lomlspidey - Tumblr blog

lomlspidey · 18 days

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I LOVED THIS SO SO MUCH

peters nerdy side>>>> can we get more hot nerdy peter pretty pleaseeeee

nerdy peter makes me feral.

Peter Parker was finally rewarded for all the shit he deals with.

A teen, who was a silent walker in school, but a near lethal hero at night, one that has to deal with more stress and traumas than any other kid at seventeen. Night after night, his spirit being broken down a little more each bad guy he’s put away.

Queens see a hero that keeps the streets clean.

Sometimes, all Peter could see was someone’s dad, or husband, or son he was putting away.

All that bullshit he’s been dealt, the bullshit about power and responsibility, was washed away when he finally got something good, something he really thought he deserved.

He got you, and that’s why he’ll stop at nothing to keep you.

“You got yourself a good one, parker. Don’t fuck it all up with your nerdy shit, pretty girls hate that.”

Was it dumb to listen to Flash of all people? Maybe.

Does he know more about girls and has a better track record at keeping them? Yes.

But of course, just like how you were the one to approach him, ask him out, kiss him first and ask for him to be your boyfriend, he should’ve trusted you. Could you really blame him though, not totally trusting he can have a purely good thing with no consequences?

He couldn’t, that’s why it shocked him when you made it clear you only wanted him.

You wanted Peter Parker, however he came. Science facts, nerdy hobbies, tirades and all.

—---------------------

Have you ever built up an idea of who someone was in your head, and when you date the other shoe drops and they’re nothing like you thought?

That was you with Peter Parker.

He was adorably perfect, noticing him when sharing a history class. Peter sat three seats up from you on the left, perfect position for you to watch his habits. The shake in his leg, tapping pencils on his desk, blowing a breath every time someone answered incorrectly, sitting up and leaning over his desk when something catches his attention, chewing his bottom lip while going over notes, poking his tongue out when he takes a test.

Peter Parker was the constant subject on your mind, starting in history and causing you to look for him in other classes, you only shared one more, typing class. He was three rows behind you, there wasn’t a good way to look at him, instead having to rely on his quiet murmurs when the teacher stands behind his computer.

After two weeks of pining you couldn’t stand it, stomping over to his table at lunch you sit down right next to him. His friends paused at your sudden and aggressive entrance.

“Hi. We haven’t really talked but we share typing and history. For two weeks straight I’ve been watching you and I can’t get you out of my head, and I would really, really like to go on a date with you.”

You can see it on his face, how he goes from shock to excitement, then as he looks you over his face falls. He thinks you’re fucking with him, you don’t know how to make him believe it’s real.

“Here,” you pull at your backpack and rip the front pocket open, you pull a sharpie out and with a slight tremble you grab his arm, pushing his sleeve up you uncap the marker with your teeth. Scribbling your number onto his skin, “think about it, let me know.”

Before you lose your steam you scramble to stand and grab your bag, “okay, that’s all. Um,” you nod at his friends, silence deafening as everyone at the table takes in the scenario. “Thank you, and… enjoy lunch?” Cringing, you turn to leave, whispering an ‘oh my god,’ to yourself while pressing a hand to your cheek.

Peter is sure in that moment you were a hundred percent serious and you just mortified yourself, spilling your guts and being met with nothing.

Six steps away he calls out, “yes!”

You pause, then turn, “what?”

“Yes! I’ll go on a date with you.”

Oh, that’s a new feeling. It felt like your heart had wings, your stomach felt like you were on a rollercoaster, flutters everywhere. You couldn’t even try to play it cool, the guy you’ve been crazy about just as interested and curious as you were. A toothy smile overtook your face, eyes lit up.

Taking a few steps closer, you felt giddy.

“Really? You will?”

Peter’s smile matched yours, he laughed through his answer, he can’t believe you actually like him that much. “Yeah.” Biting your bottom lip you pull it together, “cool, text me and we’ll plan something?”

“You got it.”

Nodding you walk off, Peter’s riding on a high like never has. He’s never had such a pretty girl like you like him, want him, notice him. He felt like he’s been rewarded, that he does deserve a good thing.

Flash scoffs when you sit back at your table, immediately talking and watching faces gasp and squeal.

“You got yourself a good one, parker. Don’t fuck it all up with your nerdy shit, pretty girls hate that.”

The last thing he wants to do, before he even gets you, is send you off. So, he listens and promises to be someone that should be with a girl like you, someone that isn’t really him.

—---------------------

You figured it was first date nerves.

That or just the fact you’ve never been alone with each other, especially under the guise of a date. It wasn’t like he was weird, but he was off. The person you watched in class was goofy, using his body to express himself, confident when speaking because he could back every word up.

This Peter was quiet, guarded and almost… boring.

You tried to give him the benefit of the doubt, he just had some jitters. Maybe if you kissed him it would settle him, you could prove that you liked him and he had nothing to be nervous about. Trying to look past his awkwardness you took the night as it was, wishing he was making you laugh like he had in class, or wishing he would ramble on in a story like you’ve watched him do with his friends at lunch or at his locker.

It may have been different than you thought but he’d come around after a date or two surly, you’d kiss him and after another few dates he’ll open up and be his true self. It was hope, but you were riding on it.

Peter ended the night by walking you home, conversation slowly dwindling as you approached closer, falling flat when you were in front of the building. Waiting for a moment you looked at his mouth, he made no reaction, you hadn’t expected him to sweep you off your feet but to not offer anything made you feel unsure.

“Can I kiss you?”

It was obvious from the look on his face that he wasn’t expecting anything in the slightest, but he licked his bottom lip and nodded softly, “yeah,” leaning in you wait for a moment, he makes no move, he has to be extremely nervous, no other option. You kissed him, you pressed into him and grabbed his face, his hands gently hovered and you pulled away.

Maybe he just pitied you, just agreed because you put him on the spot.

“Um, you know if you didn’t want-”

“Can we do this again, please?”

And just because he asked, and because it seemed like he realized he acted off and he wanted another chance, and because you really do believe in first date jitters, you say yes.

—--------------

The first time you went over to his house his room was oddly clean, empty spaces on his bookshelf and shelves, almost like he’d put things away. Eyeing a bin by his closet you walked closer, “you collect comics?” Hoping you wouldn’t find, but still opening the top and starting to look through the ones on top.

Peter took a deep breath, “as a kid, kinda stupid now, don’t you think?”

You furrow your eyebrows and shake your head, looking back down at the comic in your hand. You thought when you started dating he’d open up more, instead he got more closed off.

Clearing your throat you place the comics back in, in the exact same order and putting the lid back on. “No, I don’t think they’re stupid. I was hoping you had some new ones I could catch up on, but if you think they’re stupid now I guess I’ll have to get ‘em myself.”

If he had known you like comics he would’ve never said that. It’s his fault for leaving them out, he should’ve put them away like everything else that screamed ‘nerd alert’.

“I didn’t mean they’re stupid, just you know… collecting them as an adult… is.. weird?”

The lamest excuse you’ve ever heard, but you keep your patience. It hasn't even been two weeks, he’ll come around. You know it.

—------

Surprising Peter with a hug he budged against your weight before supporting you, talking to a friend while he wrapped his arms around your back. Picking up on pieces of the conversation you nudge your head up, interested in his words.

The Peter you like, the one that’s animated and rambling, moving his hands across your back as he talks. You place a kiss at the bottom of his neck, “whatcha talking about?” It sounded like a new program that was going to change the future of computer engineering, when you questioned he blew you off. “Nothing important.”

You had tried, you tried to be kind and patient and understanding but he just wasn’t who you wanted. You wanted that person, the person that’s excited about new technology and collected comic books.

Peter closed off when you asked, guarded back up, you wished it could’ve been different. Maybe one day he’d open up more, you didn’t want anything but his true self.

You gave it a month before you had to accept that Peter Parker wasn’t the person you thought he was, today, you had to accept that you were breaking up with Peter Parker. Pulling away you grab his arm, silently telling him to look at you.

“Can I come over later?”

“Yeah, of course. Wanna come with me after school?”

“Sure,” you wondered if he could see through your smile. It doesn’t seem like it, he leans down and gives you a quick kiss, you pull away and back away through the halls.

He has no idea what’s coming.

—------------

Gently pushing Peter’s shoulders down to coax him into sitting on the edge of his bed, you grin politely when he follows instruction. Dragging his desk chair to sit in front of him you pause to think about what you were going to say, clearing your throat you begin.

“So, I like you a lot, and I’ve enjoyed having you as my boyfriend for the past month-”

Peter’s eyebrows furrow, he holds his hand up, “enjoyed? Are you breaking up with me?”

You bite your lip and nod solemnly, “I’m sorry, Peter.”

The silence is unsettling, you look away from him, his figures deflated and his mind races.

“Why?”

Taking a deep breath and blowing it out you shrug, “I don’t want to hurt your feelings, Peter. But, uh, you’re just… not what I thought you’d be like.”

How could you not like him? He’s done everything right. He was the perfect suitor, he acted like the typical non nerd male. The kind of all american guy every girl wanted.

“I don’t… what does that mean?”

You laugh, “I have a type, and you’re not it. I like nerds, like, straight up goofy, funny guys that know something about everything and collect comic books and get excited at new, humanity altering technology. I thought you were that guy, but I guess not.”

Oh my god.

He’s fucked it all up, he was dumb enough to believe you wanted something else.

He can show you he’s a nerd, he’s been one his entire goddamn life, he’s about to nerd olympics the hell out of you.

Peter jumps from his seat so quickly it startles you, his hands come down on the armrests of your chair, the seat tilting backwards as he pushes his weight towards you.

“I’m the biggest nerd you’ll ever meet.”

Your seat jostles when he lets go and opens his closet, pulling out a box he sets it on his bed.

“This is everything I put away when we started dating,” he turns with three rubik’s cubes, each one in various sizes. “,these are my rubik’s cubes, I can finish the standard in forty three seconds, the six by six took me about thirty minutes and this baby?” he bounced the biggest one in his hold, “, this is a twenty one by twenty one, it took me about three hours.”

Peter dropped them to the bed and continued, “and this is my national championship trophy for chess club,” he shoves it in your face before he keeps digging, a small picture frames come next, “this is when I won the states most innovative science fair project,” frantic digging, “, this is a figurine of my favorite video game,” two large disc sets next, “lord of the rings and star wars,”

He spins around, flying past your body where he picks up his comic book container, “remember when I was late to our date last week? I was getting these,” three new additions of an old comic you had just started to pick up, “, and currently?” Peter moved to his desk, tapping on his keyboard until his screen woke up, code covered the screen, he pointed between the monitor and a notebook, “I’m learning to read binary code.”

You felt like the grinch because your heart grew the times the size, adoration blossomed, you could feel your chest crack and glow. The Peter you wanted, the person you thought he was from the start, was real and in front of you.

This was who he was, so why was he hiding it?

“Why did you hide that from me? Peter, that’s like, the entire reason I wanted to date you. I liked who you were, then you turned into someone else.”

Peter rested against his desk and sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. “I figured a pretty girl like you wouldn’t want some nerdy guy, it might be cute at first but when I’m stoked about something I read on wikipedia and make it my thing for a day and talk your ear off about it, you’re gonna wish you had a boyfriend that just watches sport clips for fun.”

That’s the point you were trying to make, “that’s what I want! I was literally dumping you because you weren’t that.”

“Well, I am that. So there’s no point in breaking up, right?”

You hum and spin in his chair, “I dunno… you dragged me along for a month, hiding yourself from me, making me question everything. I mean, you have a lot to make up for, parker.”

“C’mere,” you’re not given an option, he reaches forward and pulls the chair towards him and pulls you from the seat, flopping himself down and tugging you into his lap. Your stomach clenches, this was the confident Peter you wanted, it was confidence in himself.

His pointer finger taps on the monitor, “you read binary from right to left, and you separate them into groups of eight. Now the key is knowing that each one and zero mean-”

Your mouth on his, cutting his words off with a kiss, you held his face tightly, never wanting him to separate from you. Caught off guard he froze for a moment, then wrapped his hands around your middle. Pressing into him, separating for air but giving small pecks.

“Baby,” kiss, “, I’m sorry,” kiss, “, I shut,” kiss, “, you out,” kiss, “I didn’t,” kiss, “, know it meant,” kiss, “, so much,” kiss, “, to you,” kiss.

“You’re so much smarter than me,” a chaste kiss, “it’s so hot,” you look into his eyes, he’s flushed out and breathing harshly. “You’re so hot,” another kiss, Peter feels like the room is spinning, he’s never felt so wanted, so needed, the way you can’t stop kissing him, how tight you’re holding him to you, how blown your pupils are, the way you’re gulping him like water.

“I mean if you,” he grunts when you kiss down his neck, biting into his collarbone. “, if you want, I could show you how quick I can solve my rubik’s cube.” Your hands drag up his hair, gripping and tilting his head away, better access to nibble and lick the skin. “Or, recite the first seventy nine numbers of pi.”

Attention caught, “you know the first seventy nine numbers of pi?”

“Mm hmm, I could also tell you” a whimper, “, all the elements. Want me to start rattling them off?”

Kissing the middle of his throat you hum, “I’d rather you take your pants off.”

For the first time in Peter Parker’s life, memorizing the periodic table got him laid.

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lomlspidey · 20 days

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in general!!! soft sirius makes me want to scream at the top of my lungs honestly

<333 i love him! here’s Sirius asking shy!reader to go steady

Sirius asking you out on a date - that had been surprising. Hell, him noticing you at all had never made sense to you; he seemed like the type to need a spitfire, a passionate love, someone to bump heads with, and so his question now was ludicrous to you.

"What?" you ask, barely loud enough to be heard.

Sirius smiles, missing his usual confidence and bravado. It suits him just as much. "I asked you," he starts again, toying with the chain hanging around his neck, "if you wanted to be my girlfriend."

You're kneeling at one end of the two-seater sofa. Sirius sits cross-legged at the other end with his back to the arm, your paused game of gin rummy untouched between you.

You hold your pulse against your thigh, feel it beating fast. It rings in your ears.

"Is this one of your jokes?" you ask quietly.

"Sweetheart," his warm laugh, "no. Of course not."

You chance looking up and find him gazing straight at you, quickly averting your eyes back down to your legs. "I don't understand."

"I'm sorry, it's not a very romantic way to ask, but – uh. I know you're a little… quiet. I thought it might be less pressure on you if I asked somewhere private."

"You want to be my boyfriend?" you ask, more to yourself than him.

He crosses the yawning chasm between you with his ring-heavy hand, tentatively setting it down on your kneecap.

"Is it really so surprising?" he asks, fingers spreading, rubbing a path up and down your thigh. Goosebumps rise in his wake.

You stare at his knuckles and feel weirdly far away. Then, after a moment of understanding has passed, a rush of heat spreads from his fingertips all the way to the tips of your ears. He chuckles like he can see it on your face, bringing his hand up to your chin. He takes it between his thumb and his forefinger, gently lifting your head to meet his eyes.

You feel guilty at the nervous downturn of his lips.

"Are you okay?"

You nod, smile the best you can, squinting at him just slightly. He moves his hand in answer, fingers dragging across your face to underneath your ear, the tip of his thumb pressed into the corner of your mouth.

"I have feelings for you. Multitudes. Too many," he says, tone inlaid with both humour and sincerity.

"Sirius," you chide.

He rubs a slow semi-circle into your cheek. "Let me tell you? Just this time? I won't make you suffer it twice, I promise."

You weigh your options. You nod. His grateful smile makes your chest hurt.

"I really, really like you," he confesses, almost under his breath. His voice grows louder and more confident as he continues, "You're so funny, and lovely, and pretty; you're gorgeous, doll, I mean it." His eyelashes kiss as his expression softens. "I asked way too many people how they thought I should go about this."

"What did they say?" you ask.

"A load of bollocks, mostly."

You both laugh, and his smile grows wide and bright when you curl your fingers around his forearm, holding his hand against your face. Your knees crush playing cards as you shuffle incrementally closer, leaning into his touch.

"I don't want to freak you out. We'll go slow. Nothing has to change between us.”

"Well, one thing does," you murmur.

"What's that?" he asks curiously.

"Gotta change my contact on your phone."

He smirks, all at once his usual cocky self as he pulls his mobile out to flash the screen at you. A square photo of you, candid, smiling at the bouquet in your hands. The contact name is short and sweet.

My baby

"Still works, don't you think?" he asks, smug.

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lomlspidey · 20 days

Text

something good ⋆ bucky barnes

summary: bucky is about to go to war without confessing his feelings for you. you are about to watch him leave without confessing your feelings for him. that is, unless one of you gets up the courage to do something about it...

"I...need some fresh air. I'll be back."

Steve looks like he's going to argue with you as you push the chair out, but then you glance toward where Bucky disappeared in the crowd of people dancing, and Steve's face softens before he gives you a nod.

"We'll be right here," he says, pointing to your barely-touched drink. "Be careful."

The alley behind the bar is damp and quiet, cool from the rain earlier in the day but blissfully empty. You lean against the bricks and tip your head back, closing your eyes.

Steve was wrong — you should have stayed home.

He'd begged you to come out tonight; it wasn't just the two of them, he'd said, his eyes wide with hope. A few others had been invited, too, old friends who Bucky had wanted to see one last time before shipping out tomorrow.

And girls, of course. Girls with big smiles and bright eyes, who looked at Bucky as if they were hungry and he was a steak dinner.

To his credit, though, Bucky had asked you to dance first, and you'd said no. No, because it would have been impossible to act casually around him with your hands on his chest and his on your waist.

So, yes, you’d needed some fresh air after that. How could you not, when—

"Are you mad at me?"

You turn toward the voice that came from down the alley. Even though it's dark, you, of course, recognize him instantly, silhouetted against the weak light coming from inside the bar.

"Me? No, you—I'm not," you reply, your tongue feeling like it weighs three pounds. You attempt a smile. "What are you doing out here? You should be inside, enjoying your last night, no?"

Bucky shrugs and walks closer, but only far enough so you can see each other without straining.

"I was looking for you," he says, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Steve said you'd come out here."

"I'll go back inside soon, I promise. Don't worry."

He doesn't move except to kick a loose pebble away from his toe. "Why didn't you want to dance with me?"

Your stomach plummets at the question. He sounds almost hurt, and you wish you could explain yourself to him in a way that doesn't include blurting out your stupid feelings in the process.

"Uh...I don't know, I just...well, no reason," you stumble, wishing desperately that you weren't such an idiot. "I thought I'd keep Steve company while you...you know."

"Danced with the rest of them?"

You nod silently.

Bucky makes a scoffing sound before running a hand through his hair. "They're all the same."

"Okay..."

"It's not, uh, it's not what you think," he continues, taking a step forward, then back again as if he's unsure of how close to stand. "The girls — they're nice and pretty, sure, but...they're just not... I don't think they're my type, I guess."

"Uh-huh," you murmur, turning your gaze downward toward your shoes, suddenly finding it easier to look anywhere but at him. "Yeah, well, we better get back before—"

"Is there somebody else?"

The air in your lungs vanishes at his abrupt question, and you look up as your heart starts beating out of rhythm.

"Excuse me?" you whisper, surprised that you've even found your voice. "Somebody else?"

"Somebody that you...that you're seeing," Bucky says slowly, his words strained, as if every one causes him pain.

You stare at him for a second, hoping this is a joke, that maybe Steve put him up to asking these ridiculous questions — or maybe he's been drinking too much — because, surely, Bucky couldn't possibly be trying to ask you what you think he's trying to ask you.

"Bucky, let's just go back inside—"

"It's Steve, isn't it?" he cuts you off with the most absurd statement yet. His expression softens. "It's okay, really. If you are, I mean. He's a really good guy."

"Steve?!" You actually laugh at the absurdity of it all, shaking your head until the shock fades away into incredulity. "Jesus Christ, no! I mean, Steve is...he's like a brother to me, what...what the hell are we even talking about?"

"But...there's someone?" he asks again, sounding less upset than he had a few moments ago.

"No, not—no," you say, slouching against the wall and shrugging halfheartedly. "There's no one. Honestly, there hasn't been since..."

"Since when?"

Since I met you.

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose and praying that a sinkhole will open up and swallow you whole. This has gone on long enough. "I don't know. It's...been a little while. I don't know what you want me to say, really."

"I just wondered."

"Okay, fine."

You start to walk back to the door leading inside, but Bucky moves so quickly that you run smack into his chest.

"Wait, just—"

He grabs your hand and holds it gently, thumb softly brushing along your knuckles.

Your breath hitches at the unexpected contact. You glance down at where he's holding onto you, then back up again, confused, curious, wondering if this is real and not some strange dream you'll wake up from any moment now.

You exhale with a shaky laugh when he lifts his other hand to your cheek and rubs his thumb across it, stopping at the corner of your mouth.

Slowly, so slowly, he leans in.

"Bucky," you breathe, his name soft on your tongue.

His forehead touches yours, and you reach up to rest a palm against his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart beneath your fingertips.

"Do you not want me to...?"

He's never been this close to you, but everything about the moment feels familiar — the heat radiating from his body, the light scratch of his stubble on your cheek, the smell of him surrounding you.

You lift your chin slightly. "I do, but..."

"Just..." You feel the warmth of his breath on your lips; he's so close now that they brush against yours as he speaks. "I wish I'd...said something before it came to this."

"Before what came to this?"

"That I'd have...asked you. Proper, like. Dinner, movie. You know, the way it shoulda been. Before I...before I leave."

You stiffen at the word leave, pulling back so that you can look him in the eye.

"Bucky..."

"I wish I would've asked you to dinner. Would've loved to take you to dinner," he says, his eyes searching yours. "Wouldn't that have been nice, doll?"

A small smile lifts the corner of your mouth. "It would've."

"It could've been nice, you and me."

"I think it could have been."

"Yeah?" he chuckles quietly, lifting your hand and bringing it to his lips. He presses a kiss to the back of your fingers, then your palm. "I think it can still be. You see, I'm quite selfish. I'd like to go to war with something good to think of. Something — or someone — to come home to. That'd be worth coming home to."

"Like...Steve?"

It's a joke, of course, and Bucky, to his credit, does laugh, too. Then, he slips a finger under your chin and tips your face up toward his. You hold your breath as he dips his head to place a gentle, barely-there kiss on the corner of your mouth. "Not like Steve. No."

The music from inside the bar becomes louder, a woman's voice singing softly, sweetly. Stars fading, but I linger on, dear...

"I..." You clear your throat nervously, fiddling with the collar of his jacket. "You better come back to me in one piece."

"You gonna be waiting for me?"

You smirk. "I mean, I already waited this long, so I might as well—"

The rest of your words disappear into his kiss. You gasp at the sudden, almost desperate press of Bucky's lips on yours, but then he brings his hands to the sides of your face and kisses you more gently, more slowly, more purposefully, as if he has a lot to say to you in this moment but words fail him and the only thing left to do is this — to kiss you, over and over, again and again, to say, with his lips, with his hands, with every inch of himself...that he'll come back to you.

You whimper as Bucky's teeth catch your lower lip and tug before letting go. He pulls back far enough to look at you, to see your swollen lips parted. "So...that means yes, right?"

"Yes," you murmur. You slide your hands over his shoulders and into his hair, pulling his mouth back down to yours. "It means yes."

#my heart 😭😭😭

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lomlspidey · 23 days

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FANGTASIA. send in a character from my guide + one of the prompts below for a drabble!

OK LAST ONE I PROMISE. but you know I had to send in a theseus request so … theseus + "You think I like being like this? Every time someone fucking touches you I want to rip their hands off!" teehee 😋

'𝗖𝗔𝗨𝗦𝗘 𝗬𝗢𝗨'𝗥𝗘 𝗝𝗨𝗦𝗧 𝗔 𝗠𝗔𝗡 (𝗜𝗧'𝗦 𝗝𝗨𝗦𝗧 𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗧 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗗𝗢)

theseus scamander x fem!reader

summary: 1.7k

“I can hear you sulking over there. C’mon,” you urge as you watch him out of your periphery. He closed his eyes before he exhaled slowly. Deeply, forcing all of the air out of his lungs in the hopes that his foul mood would exit with it. He didn’t want to be like this. He didn’t want to hate your secretary, to be the possessive guy that never let his partner speak to another man, but it was starting to eat away at him. It was a lot easier to lose you when he didn’t fully have you, yet.

or the one where theseus can't stand your secretary.

warnings: none that i can think of, semi-possessive theseus?

masterlist

He was just your secretary. That’s what you keep telling yourself. And Theseus. All he does is your filing and allow people entry into your office. And bring you your morning coffee without you needing to ask for it, with the exact amount of cream and sugar you take without you ever having told him in the past.

Of course, this was just him being excellent at his job, it was why you’d kept him on for so long. There was a quick turnover rate for secretaries at the ministry. A year or two, at most, before they were either fired by their respective bosses or they left to pursue a field they were actually passionate about. But not Richard. No, you’d been working with Richard for the better part of five years. Long before you’d ever met your now boyfriend–if you could even call him that, only having been on a dozen or so dates at this point. Not that the question hadn’t been on the tip of his tongue since the first time you batted your eyelashes at him.

That didn’t stop Theseus from clenching his jaw every morning when he stopped by to say hello only to find your secretary to have abandoned his post outside your office in favor of holing up in your loveseat and carrying on with whatever annoyingly dull topic of conversation he’d chosen to occupy your time with. It didn’t stop him from rolling his eyes at the way his hand lingered over yours as he dropped off the accounts you needed that afternoon during your lunch break, little more than a glance cast askew at him as he sat beside you. It didn’t stop him from biting his tongue so hard it bled each time you brought Richard up in the evenings when he walked you out of the building.

No, it didn’t matter how long you’d worked with the man. Theseus knew a crush when he saw one.

“What’s wrong, love? You’ve been tense all day,” you say, gently placing a hand onto his shoulder. He’d been sitting in your office for a little over an hour, his work day having already drawn to a close but you’d had to finish up a last minute assignment your boss had thrown on your desk fifteen minutes before you were supposed to leave. Theseus hadn’t minded waiting.

“Nothing,” he clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. Richard had been especially irritating that day. He’d barely had five minutes alone with you before you’d forced your secretary to go home once the clock hit six.

“It’s nothing, lovely. Promise,” he says. At the very least, having this time with you was beginning to dull the headache that had formed earlier in the day. He thinks it started when Richard had once again waltzed into your office during your lunch hour with the hopes of taking you out to the bakery a couple blocks away.

“Okay,” you drawl, eyebrows drawn together.

It’s then that Theseus notices the parchment stuck to your desk lamp. It was a charmed doodle, one that poorly illustrated a man with smoke shooting out of his ears sitting at a desk played on a loop. To keep you company while you work - Rich. Of course.

“You ready?” you ask, shuffling around documents and files on your desk to deal with on Monday when you return before grabbing your bag off the ground and slipping your coat on. You circle around the furniture in your office to stand in front of Theseus. He ran a firm hand across his brow bone as he stood to meet you. He leans forward to place a chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth as he nods.

It’s hard to ignore how stiff he’s become.

“Are we still good for dinner at yours tonight?” you ask.

“Of course,” he hums. He wasn’t going to let this ruin the one of the few evenings a week he got to spend with you. Or, at least, he was going to try to not let it ruin it.

Once he was sure you’d both collected the remainders of your belongings, he takes your hand in his to apparate the two of you to his flat. Since you weren’t going back to your place, he didn’t feel the need to walk the two of you all the way across the ministry just to disapparate from there. He only did that to spend a couple extra minutes with you, anyway.

It’s only the second time you’ve been to his place, but the short wave of nausea prevents you from feeling too overwhelmingly nervous about it. You set your bag beside the door before you move to the kitchen to sit and let the urge to vomit begin to dissipate. Theseus smooths a palm over down your arm as he slides up behind you.

He leans down to whisper in your ear. His nose brushes against your cheek. “Can I get you anything?”

“Maybe a penny…” you trail off.

“A penny?” he huffs amused.

“For your thoughts,” you say.

“I told you it was nothing.”

“Darling, I know something’s wrong. I want to help if I can,” you say, tilting your head back enough to look at his face. He bends again to kiss your forehead. It’s tender, sweet. Nearly domestic.

“It’s just work stress, I guess,” he says. He wasn’t technically lying.

“I’m sorry,” you hum, bringing a hand up to smooth across his cheek for a second. “Do you want to talk about it? It might help if you get some of it off your chest.”

“I wouldn’t want to burden you, love,” he says as he begins to move away from your chair. He meanders around the small kitchen as he starts to gather the things he needs to cook dinner. You hardly notice as he charms the cutting board to dice vegetables for him.

“It wouldn’t be a burden. Richie’s always telling me about the kinds of things that bother him at the office,” you say. Theseus’ jaw clenches. With his suit coat already having been slung across the couch in the living room, he’s quick to roll his button-down sleeves up to his elbows.

“Fucking Richard,” he mutters. It’s so quiet you almost miss it. Your brows raise. He runs a palm over his jaw, resisting the urge to bite down on one of his fingers.

“This is about him?”

“What?” he asks as he turns away from you to grab noodles from his pantry. The first time he’d asked about Richard had been harmless. A one-off question at the end of your evening when he’d been walking you back to your flat. A question you’d answered simply. He’s just your secretary. Then he’d asked again. A second and a third time.

“This. Your… mood. It’s about him, isn’t it?” you ask. You’re attempting to sound understanding, but you know there’s an edge to your tone. He doesn’t elicit an answer. “I thought I told you he wasn’t anything to worry about. He works for me.”

“I know,” he grumbles.

“Then what’s this about, hm?” you ask, standing from your chair and moving into his space.

“It’s just.” He’s cracking, slightly. He hates that he’s allowed himself to get affected by something so trivial. “He’s always there.”

“You’ve got yourself in a fit because my secretary comes into my office during work hours?”

“It’s the way he is around you, you know? He’s always around, always touching or trying to touch. You should see the way he looks at you,” he huffs. The box in his hand drops onto the counter suddenly, his hands following as he pushes his weight against them.

“Thes-” you start.

“You think I like being like this? You think it’s something I want? To be so angry and aggravated about something that I can’t control? That you can’t control?” he asks. “Everytime he touches you I want to rip his fucking hands off.”

You step behind him, winding your arms around his middle until he’s stood straight again. His hands find yours and interweave between your fingers.

“It’s not you,” he sighs. “Well, I mean, it is you. I don’t see how there isn’t a single man left in the world not wrapped tight around your finger.”

You press a kiss between his collarbones. He relaxes into your hold.

“I don’t want Richard,” you say.

“I know.”

“I want you.”

“I want you, too, darling.”

“But I also want you to talk to me,” you say as you urge him to turn to face you with a tap of your fingers against his torso. “I’ll talk to him. I can’t say I haven’t noticed him being a little closer to me than some of the other secretaries have been with their bosses, because I have. So, I’ll talk to him. But, I need you to talk to me, too.”

His forehead falls forward until it’s pressed against yours.

You continue, “I need you to tell me when stuff like this bothers you. You can’t just be all angry at the world and do nothing about it and expect it all to change. Okay?”

“I can do that,” he hums.

“Good,” you nod.

“Good.”

“You also need to remember that I’m a grown-up and I can handle myself, too, right? Just because another man may or may not have his eyes on me doesn’t mean I’m going to go running off into the sunset with him,” you say. A soft laugh rumbles in his chest, his eyes crinkling with a soft smile at the sides.

“Alright,” he says.

“Now,” you say. “What’s for dinner?”

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lomlspidey · 24 days

Text

katsuki comes back first, just as the atrium roars with applause.

it’s a good enough distraction to return to, the sharp sound of hands echoing in his eardrums, bringing him back to the here and now. there’s enough sweat coating his palms to make him nervous and he’s thankful for the dimmed lighting, at least, so that he can stick to the shadows as he wipes them on his slacks.

someone passes by with a drink tray and—he’s fucking thirsty. always is, after stuff with you. doesn’t matter how much goddamn water he drinks, it’s all gathering at the small of his back and behind his knees and in the crease of his elbows. good thing you convinced him to bring the fucking jacket.

god, hopefully he doesn’t stink.

katsuki isn’t a fan of the bitter, sharp taste of alcohol, but at least it’s something; downing a flute of champagne in one go probably is a mistake, but it’s not his first bad decision of the night and with you around—as a little fucking minx—it’s not bound to be his last.

he feels gross. he really, really does. call it post-nut clarity or whatever the fuck, but—he goddamn knows better than this. what a great headline that would make, catching him with his pants down at the fucking hero summit. adding lecher to the list of shit the media has against him already. public indecency charge at the least, not to mention the shit storm that would hit you, too.

he should have waited until you were both home; hell, in the car in the driveway, at the very least. thank fuck nobody walked in or saw you coming out of the same place, like horny teenagers in a public goddamn bathroom. gross.

—so why the fuck is his dick still throbbing in his pants?

it’s infuriating, to realize he’s just as much of a pervert as kaminari denki.

who, of course, is the first to notice his arrival back at the table, swinging his own glass precariously as he calls,

“yeah, kacchan!” the celebratory tone in his voice makes katsuki’s stomach flip, and all his sweat runs cold. “let’s get fucked up!”

katsuki’s a terrible liar and he knows it, but he still tries to feign indifference, reaching for a cup that is most likely kirishima’s. “ain’t drinkin’ that shit, i just want water.”

“pfffft, lies!” denki spits all over the tablecloth. “i saw you down that champagne back there!”

“why the fuck are you watching me?”

“are you okay, man?” kirishima asks, frowning as he eyes katsuki up and down. “you’re sweating.”

“yeah, i—fucking do that, numb-skull.” katsuki chews an ice cube between his teeth, trying to remember how his hair looked before he left the bathroom. fuck, did he even check?

denki laughs. “yeah, dude, that’s his thing!”

katsuki’s nose wrinkles, suddenly offended. “it’s not my thing to just sweat, asshole. there’s a lot that goes into this shit that you couldn’t even comprehend—”

“dude, are you sure you’re okay?” kirishima asks again, and then his eyes go wide, like he’s figured something out. katsuki hopes not. “did something happen between you and—”

at the very mention of your name, katsuki’s stomach tightens and bullets slide down his temple. he can’t even think about you right now, because it only reminds him of how much of a scandal this could have been, how badly he wants to take a shower after having his ass out in that bathroom. probably needs to torch these pants.

he can’t even think about you right now because—he’s never gonna get the image of your face in the mirror out of his head, the way your dress looked bunched up at your hips. how smudged your lipstick got and the imprint it left on his thigh. how fucking wet you were over this perverted shit and how much he liked it—

“dude?”

katsuki snaps, slamming his hand on the table hard enough that the glasses shake. his voice is too breathy when it comes out. “don’t fucking worry about us!”

“about who?”

all of katsuki’s blood sings—violently—when you run a hand across his back, leaning into his arm as you shuffle to get into your seat. he can tell you’ve reapplied your perfume because his mouth waters immediately, like he’s going to be fucking sick, though the tension in his balls says otherwise.

kirishima eyes you warily, jumping back and forth between the two of you. “everything okay?”

“with us? oh, yeah,” you lean into the table, trying to catch katsuki’s attention though he keeps it zeroed in on a wrinkle in the tablecloth. “we’re great, right?”

from his peripheral vision, he can see the swell of your cheeks from your smile. it matches the even, light tone of your voice, painting you as the picture of fucking innocence even though you were just in the public fucking bathroom asking to get railed.

“please,” you said, with your big, pretty eyes, which gleamed in the hall light. and you don’t ever ask, because you don’t fucking have to, but you asked then and—how the fuck was he supposed to say no?

katsuki finally glances at you and—he needs another cup of fucking water. you look goddamn perfect, perfect, like nothing ever happened, except that there’s this little glow surrounding you. some bullshit aura of happiness because you got what you damn wanted.

you smile at him, bright and coy, as he looks at you, and when you pull your lip between your teeth, katsuki nearly sinks his teeth into his fist. underneath the table, his body directly disobeys him.

“yeah,” he rasps, eyes returning to his empty cup as your hand rests near his knee. “we’re peachy.”

wasn’t his first bad decision of the night, and it’s not bound to be his last.

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lomlspidey · 24 days

Text

in a way that i think katsuki can be flustered by intimacy, i think shouto is just plain as day curious.

situations like when you're pressed up against each other on a busy train car, leaning into a familiar touch rather than the unknown, i think shouto has no qualms about being so obvious. you glance up at him shyly, heat burning down your chest, and he's just looking at you, open and unashamed.

so close that you can see him catalogue you, explore in ways he maybe never has before; eyes flitting over the width of your nose and the curve of your lips and your each individual lash. just learning, in the most innocent and interested manner, the new bits of you he'll think of when you're not together.

i think in moments like this that could be deemed romantic—two people in their quiet corner, staring so deeply into the other's face, a breath apart—he's easily engaged, but i don't know if he realizes the significance of it. why it means what it means and why it will affect him uniquely, later on. all the lines you're crossing.

that's also why being kissed by him comes as a complete surprise to you, because i don't think he's planning any of it. he just wants to know, is all, and there's plenty to figure out, with you.

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lomlspidey · 28 days

Note

please please i’d like to request a carmy blurb with the dialogue prompt “Don't go on that date” ❤️

Divine Timing.

carmy berzatto x female reader

warnings - cursing

written for my 5k celebration - post here, masterlist here. inbox here.

He’s in a bad mood.

Technically, he’s always in a bad mood. But this is the worst you’ve seen him in a long time.

He’s screamed at Richie, belittled Marcus and pissed off Tina in the span of approximately five minutes, and everyone is tired. So, they enlist your help.

You speak fluent Carmy, Syd had said once. You’re the only one he listens to.

So, the next time he shouts, you shout back. Louder.

“Sydney, what the fuck are you doing?” he yells bitterly.

“Carmen, if you don’t stop fucking screaming, I’ll smack you so hard in front of everyone - I swear to fucking God.”

You yell back at a volume that shocks even Richie. The Beef stands still, everyone too afraid to move. Carmy is startled, stuck in place.

“We’re taking five,” you tell him, linking your fingers into his. “Come on.”

You drag him outside, sitting him down in his usual spot. You grab a water bottle and throw it at him, raising your eyebrows in a gesture that says drink it or else. He does as he’s told.

You let him wallow in the silence for a while, calming down slowly but surely. You look over, expecting to see him still angry, or frustrated. Instead, he just looks sad.

You move to sit next to him, turning your body so you can see his face clearly.

“What’s the matter, Carm? What’s got you so riled up today, hmm?”

“Nothin’” he replies, kicking his shoe into the ground. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Does matter. You can’t take your feelings out on everyone in the kitchen, you know. It isn’t fair.”

“I know.”

Your phone make a noise, and you check the screen quickly before shoving it back in your pocket.

“Anyone important?”

“Nah. Just the guy I’m meant to be seeing later, checking in to see if I’m still good.”

Carmy tenses, whole body going rigid beside you. You feel it, brows furrowed in confusion.

“Listen, Carm. If you don’t wanna tell me what’s bothering you, then fine. But you’ve got to work it out in your own time - not in the fucking kitchen. Got it?”

He’s quiet for a moment, deep in thought. Finally, he speaks.

“Don’t go on that date.”

Your head whips around in disbelief.

“What?”

He ducks his head, willing the ground to swallow him whole.

“Don’t go on that date. Please.”

“Is that… is that what’s got you all upset?”

He scoffs and immediately regrets it, looking at you with softness in his eyes that’s rare as diamonds.

“Yeah.”

“Carmen… why?”

He takes a deep breath, gaze never leaving yours.

“It’s been eating me up, the idea of you going out with some guy. I wanted to tell you how I felt, but… I didn’t want it to be awkward, when you didn’t feel the same way. We work together, we see each other every day, and I didn’t wanna fuck up our friendship.”

“So… you took your anger out on everyone else?”

“Yeah, fuck. I didn’t mean to. Think I just bottled up my feelings too much.”

“Who says I don’t feel the same way?”

Carmy chokes on his breath, staring at you in disbelief.

“You… wait- what?”

“Anyone can see that I like you, Carm. I have since the day I met you and you flashed me one of those million dollar smiles of yours.”

He gives you one now, all bright and bashful.

“This is the last time anything like this happens, you hear me? From now on, you talk to me. And I’ll talk to you. It goes both ways.”

He nods, agreeing wholeheartedly.

“Here’s the deal, Berzatto. You go in there and apologise individually to each and every person you’ve been a dick towards today, and I’ll cancel my date with the douchebag I didn’t wanna see anyway.”

“And you’ll date me instead.”

You laugh, head thrown back and eyes crinkling.

“Fine. But only if the apologies are super heartfelt.”

He shakes his head, chuckling from deep within his chest. Wrapping an arm around your shoulders, he presses a kiss to your temple.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For yelling at me back there. I needed it.”

You smile, leaning into him.

“You’re so welcome.”

“It was super hot, too.”

“Shut up, Berzatto,” you chide, but you can’t fight the grin that etches itself on your face.

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lomlspidey · 28 days

Note

hii congrats on 5k!! i love your writing ! if you’re still celebrating could i request a carmy blurb where maybe you’re syd’s besite and carmy has this biggggest crush on you (im talking this mf is Yearning) and she gets on him sooo hard about it like teasing him and reader and him end up together ? TIA <3

Not So Secret.

carmen berzatto x female reader

warnings - cursing.

written for my 5k celebration- post here, masterlist here, inbox here.

“You’re gonna stare a hole through her fuckin’ head.”

“Shut up.”

Richie laughs, following Carmens eyeline to where it’s fixed on you.

You’re stood in the restaurant with Sydney, both of you giggling at something she’s showing you on her phone. When you look up, you smile at Carmy, all soft and sweet and like butter wouldn’t melt. He almost melts, a puddle of yearning on the kitchen floor.

Sugar appears next to the two of you, holding out a piece of paper.

“This is a really rough draft of what we kind of want them to look like. Obviously you have full control, but this is kind of the vibe?”

When Carmen mentioned wanting a more personal touch on the menus, Sydney quickly offered your services. You’re the most artistic person she knows, gifted with naturally gorgeous handwriting that almost looks like calligraphy. Plus, she knows how much everyone at The Bear likes you, having been a part of their transformation. It’s a win - win.

“Yeah, I get you. So you want the title words like Dessert in more of a cursive, and then the actual dishes and descriptions in a typeface?”

“Yes! Do your thing. We trust you.”

She gives you a side hug, careful not to hit you with her bump.

“I’m gonna need some nice paper, and probably a new calligraphy pen so I can start from scratch. I’m gonna head to the craft store, and I’ll be back.”

“Carmy will go with you!”

Richie shouts it from the doorway, where he’s been not so subtly watching the conversation. Carmy blushes, clearly caught off guard.

“He needs to go to the craft store too, right Cousin? Good. Go. Bye!”

Carmy’s practically being pushed out the door, uncomfortable and flustered. You smile reassuringly, grabbing your bag and walking over to your car.

“You’re okay with me driving?”

“Course. Shouldn’t I be?”

You laugh, and he can’t help but grin, the sound settling nicely into his ribcage to warm him up.

“I’m a good driver, I promise. Despite what Sydney might say.”

He looks worried but gets in anyway, ever trusting you and anything you do.

He can’t help but sneak glances at you as you drive. You’re completely focused on the road in front, bottom lip pulled between your teeth as you concentrate. Carmy feels heat bloom across his chest at the action, wishing he could reach out and release it for you before you draw blood.

A text chimes through the air, startling you both. You press the button on your steering wheel so your car can read the message out loud.

From Sydney: Carmy. Tell her immediately or I’ll lock you in the walk in freezer. Sick of you acting like a lovesick puppy. This is your chance. Don’t blow it, asshole. We’re all tired.

Both of you freeze, your hands tightening on the wheel. Carmy wants to throw himself out of the moving car, but decides against it at the last minute.

You pull the car into the craft store parking lot, choosing a space and yanking the handbrake on. You turn to him, looking at him for the first time since the bombshell.

He’s blushed all over, chest heaving and bottom lip pulled between his teeth. You almost want to reach out and release it for him, before he draws blood.

“Carmy.”

“I think, uh, yeah, I just - that was clearly sent to the wrong person. Not meant for you.”

You laugh, suddenly, and it spooks Carmy so much that he jumps out of his skin.

“Yeah, Carm. That I figured.”

He laughs with you then, unsure and nervous. You reach out and place a hand on his knee, trying to calm him down. It just makes his heart lurch.

“What’s Syd talking about? Tell me what?”

He looks down at his lap, hands knotted together.

“I think you know.”

“Wanna hear you say it,” you whisper.

He finds the courage to meet your gaze, taking a deep breath.

“I like you. So much. I can’t stop talking about you to anyone and everyone that’ll listen - to the point that everyone at The Bear gives me so much shit for it. Sydney won’t get off my back, either. She says I’m ‘yearning’.”

You chuckle, rubbing patterns into the material of his jeans with your thumb.

“They’ve all made bets,” he continues, “about if I’ll ever tell you or not.”

“Who bet on you? And who against?”

“Syd and Richie against me. Marcus too. Tina and Sugar are on my side. Not sure why.”

“Wanna make Tina and Sugar some money?”

He quirks a brow questioningly, eyes going wide when you lean over the centre console and plant your hands on either side of his face. You’re so close to him that your breaths tangle together, one set of lungs working overtime.

“Kiss me, Carm.”

He doesn’t think twice, closing the gap and pressing his lips to yours. You tangle your fingers in his hair, trying to pull him impossibly closer. His hands find your back, tugging you into him as much as the limited space allows.

You whine when he bites at your lip gently, and he has to pull away to take a steadying breath before he passes out.

“You should get your eyes checked.”

He tries to process for a moment.

“Huh?”

“You must be blind if you can’t see how much I like you, Carm. How much I’ve always liked you.”

He grins at you, bright and white, and you shake your head before leaning in to kiss him again.

When you don’t make it back into the restaurant that day, everyone has never been happier to not see the both you.

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lomlspidey · 29 days

Note

croissant - send me a sfw request!

omg would you want to do “kissing after conversations about how they’d be better as friends” from this prompt list with any character of your choosing !🫶

a/n: i am on my bucky brain rot these days, so i can't resist giving it to him

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist | join my 10k celebration!

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” you breathed, yet your face still didn’t move back even an inch as you shared the heated air in the sliver between you two, “it would be a bad idea to start something…”

“Really bad…” Bucky’s eyes flickered down to your lips, “really fucking bad.”

And before you could even suck in your next breath, he’d seized the back of your head and pulled you in for a kiss so hot it nearly scorched you.

“It would just be way too messy,” he murmured in between pecks as his steely fingers twirled in the hair at the base of your neck, “if we gave us chance.”

As your leg swung over his form and you slid into his lap, “we’d just be better off as friends,” you sighed shakily as his lips began to wander down the length of your neck and over your thrumming pulse, “just friends.”

“Yeah,” he found your hazy gaze as his broad palms began to slide down the curve of your spine, “just friends.”

#🫣🫣🫣💗

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lomlspidey · 29 days

Text

[ sakusa kiyoomi ]

komori knew you both had a crush on each other.

it was evident to him since you both were kids. maybe he was a little stupid, but he wasn’t blind. he was the way sakusa actually chuckled at your jokes, he saw the way you smile at sakusa when he isn’t looking, he saw the way sakusa plays better the second he sees that you were present, and he saw the way sakusa accepted physical touch when it was you.

he was also present for the say sakusa decided to apply the same university as you, even though it was never one of his top choices.

he, however, never prepared for the day that the two of you finally admit your crushes to him.

or the fact that it would be in the same day, with just a few minutes apart.

or the way it would go.

komori gaped openly at sakusa, who was blushing. his cheeks were red and his lips were pulled up into a small smile as he looked away, eyes soft. komori leaned closer, and if it wasn’t for the table between them, he would have grabbed his cousin’s shoulders and shook them intensely. “what?”

“i like [y/n].” sakusa admitted, turning to him, and his lips twitched up further when he saw the shock on his cousins face. “they’re just so… i like them a lot. they make me happy, and i have never felt so comfortable with someone. their smile alone makes me feel like everything is going to be okay.”

“i’m not surprised you like them.” komori muttered, still in shock as he pushed his hair back, eyes wide. “it’s been obvious for years. i’m more surprised you’re openly admitting it to me… and smiling…”

an alarm on sakusa’s phone rang before he could answer, and sakusa shrugged, pushing himself up, his smile still present. “i’m just glad that when my heart chose, it was them. see you later.”

with that, he grabbed his backpack and walked away, leaving komori to simmer in his own state of shock.

however, before he could even register what just occurred, you appeared in front of him, seeming very distressed. you sat across from him, wordlessly dropping your bag on the table between you two before you buried your face in your hands.

somehow, before you could even speak, he knew it was about your crush, too.

and he was very glad no one around was present to witness the following events, because before he could even question it, you let out a loud, muffled scream, and he gaped at you.

“what the hell is wrong with you?”

“oh, god, why?!” you cried out, finally dropping your hand off your face. “what the fuck? why me?! this is the worst thing that could happen to a human being!”

komori held his head, staring at the table with intense confusion on what he just witnessed. “did they switch bodies?”

“this is awful!” you banged your head against the table loudly, and he jumped, wide eyes turning back to you as you groaned. “why me? why must this tragedy fall on me? why must i develop feelings?”

then, your head snapped up to him as if you found the solution, and with no hesitation, you speak. “komori, you need to kill me.”

“i am not killing you.” he deadpanned flatly, eyes set on your forehead. “your forehead is red.”

you paid no attention his second remark, still staring blankly at him. “i have feelings for for a guy. this is the end of the world.”

komori snorted. “this is not the end of the world.”

“this is the end of existence.” you continued, ignoring him despite staring straight into his eyes. “kiyoomi will find out and think i am weird and reject me and i will lose my best friend and die.”

“you’re so overdramatic.” komori stated flatly. “none of this will happen— are you even listening to me?”

“no.” you mumbled flatly, then pushed yourself up. the stress dressing your features was so evident that it actually almost made him feel bad for you. “let’s go. you’re buying me a coffee for the inconvenience.”

his jaw dropped. “i am literally the only person who has nothing to do with this!”

“you introduced us.”

komori blinked once, then twice, then sighed, pushing himself up. “fine.”

a few years later, komori got to fondly recall this day in his best man speech. you ignored the way your now husband stared at you in offense, your cheeks heating as you sipped on your drink silently.

“did this really happen?” kiyoomi whispered that night, later after everything had ended, eyes curious, and you blinked blankly at him.

“i can still feel my forehead hurting.”

he blinked back once, then twice, then sighed, lifting your connected hands to his lips to place a gentle kiss. “i am so glad i married you.”

-> drabble bc i feel like im neglecting u my babies. also sakusa isnt ooc bc this literally happened with me and him so dont worry about it (this is fully inspired by a tiktok audio i heard)

#SOBBING

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lomlspidey · 1 month

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bf!steve who likes you threading your fingers through his hair when he kisses you, when he's got you sitting on his dresser and he's standing between your legs, lightly scratching your nails along the back of his neck, tugging at his loose curls, when you're both trying to pull each other closer and closer, his hands on your waist almost slipping you off, but he'd never let you go, you both can just never be close enough, who hates showering alone because when you're there you wash his hair, you kiss his back, you let him touch and kiss every inch of your skin, he likes how domestic showering together feels when it's completely innocent too, just the both of you taking turns under the hot shower, sharing soap, giggling and being soft with each other

who likes watching you read with your legs thrown over his lap, hand tracing up and down your thighs while he just contently watches you read every word, only stopping to tell him when something really good happens, he adores when you do that, when you get all excited to tell him something, some twist or line that you just have to share with him, who stays up and talks with you after sex, your both a little flushed and tired but he loves how sleepy you sound, how you rest your head on his shoulders, how neither of you have bothered getting dressed yet, he likes telling you how pretty you look right now, he likes brushing his fingers over your stomach and kissing your neck

who loves hearing all your gossip but hates if anyone is even slightly to cold to you, it's okay stevie I don't think they meant to be mean- let me find their number and show them what mean really is, I was a bitch in high school, I know what I'm doing, who gets protective over you, in silly ways like making sure you're never cold even if it means he's shivering because he gave you his jacket, throwing his arm around you when anyone else flirts with you and kissing you stupid in front of them so they get the hint, you're his, his pretty girl, his sweetheart, who kisses you all sweaty after he's gone running, because you said you didn't mind, you said you kinda liked it, so now the first thing he does when he gets home is finding you and covering you in sweaty hot kisses <3

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lomlspidey · 1 month

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jade baby I was wondering if you could do a hurt/comfort with Steve, but the reader comforting steve while he deals with his hearing loss after all the times he got beat up and stuff? Maybe he’s frustrated and she makes him feel better:’)

ty for requesting <3 fem, 1k

Steve’s eardrum was weakened after multiple traumas to the side of his head, but it’s the strangulation of vines in the Creel house that finally gives him permanent hearing loss in his left ear. Matter of time, the doctor said.

He pretends it doesn’t bother him. He doesn’t wear the hearing aid he’s fitted for, he doesn’t go for his follow up appointments. Steve acts like he got better just like everybody else did (sort of). He doesn’t care about taking his shirt off at the pool, ‘cos you all have scars from your time in the upside down, but he doesn’t talk about his ear.

“Woah, that kid can make a wave,” he says, squinting against the sunshine, his legs still wet from swimming.

In the pool, Dustin and his friends play an aggressive game of Marco Polo. Max sits on the side with her feet in the water shouting Polo’s that only serve to confuse him, Lucas beside her laughing and trying to curve his own shouting with his hand. Dustin throws his arm out at them and soaks their swim shorts in retribution.

“He’d be winning if they stopped messing with him,” you say, sitting on the lounger next to him and passing him one of the drinks from your bag. It’s still cold. “When’s Robin getting here?”

“Uh, she’s with Nance.”

“Oh, gotcha. When is she coming?” you ask, a little louder.

He must have missed a couple of words and assumed you asked where she was. He frowns, turning the can of original coke you’ve given him over in his hand.

“Steve?”

He looks up, turning himself to you more squarely. “Yeah?”

“Do you know when Robin’s gonna be here?”

He presses a finger to his ear. “You just asked me that, huh?”

“It’s okay. I’m just wondering.”

“Uh.” He ruffles his hair, face angled down to the floor. “I don’t know. Half an hour?”

Steve isn’t easy, he’s not promiscuous (anymore) (and who cares if he is?) but he loves flirty attention, and he’s a friend in need. Also, you have a huge awful crush on him even if you won’t admit to it.

You put your hand on his knee. “Half an hour for you to kiss me stupid, then.”

He lifts his head. “You wish.” He smiles at you all smug as he covers your hand with his. “Half an hour? I could rock your world.”

You both laugh and move your hands back to your sides. Your skin feels warm where he’d held it, you can’t help smiling, but it’s obvious it hasn’t really taken his mind off of the problem. Your ruse ran out of steam too quickly.

Steve looks down at his chest. “I’m sorry. It must be annoying, repeating what you’re saying all the time.”

“It’s not.”

“Come on, I know it’s the worst.”

“Steve, it doesn’t bother me. You need me to repeat what I said, or you need me to talk louder sometimes, so I’ll do it. It doesn’t matter.”

“It does,” he says, “I should just wear the– the hearing aid,” —his voice goes low with embarrassment— “and stop inconveniencing everybody.”

“You’re not an inconvenience, Steve.” You tilt your head gently toward your shoulder, palm up on the chair between you. “Steve, I think everybody would agree with me when I say that we don’t mind. It’s up to you. If Max doesn’t wanna use her cane, you don’t care, do you? You just let her use your arm. It’s the same thing. Or, it feels like the same thing for us when you don’t use your hearing aid.”

He winces.

You really don’t like the look of it, unsure if you’ve said the wrong thing. “Well, I could learn sign,” you say.

“What?”

“Sign language? We could learn how to sign, and then you don’t have to wear the hearing aid, n’ you don’t have to worry I’m repeating myself.”

“You’d do that?”

“Yeah,” you say, smiling in bemusement. “Of course I would. And it would help anyways in places like this.” You gesture to the tens of kids shouting and splashing in the pool. “There’s so much noise. I can barely hear myself sometimes. And imagine the shit we could talk at the movies–”

“Thank you,” Steve says, surprising you with his arms suddenly reaching out. He kisses your cheek as he pulls you in, and he rubs your back gently, his face pressed to your hair. You hug him back and his arms tighten around you.

“You’re welcome,” you say. You haven’t even done anything.

“Seriously,” he says, giving your back a good scrunch with his hand.

It’s worth it for the scrunch alone, but you really mean it. Of course you’d learn to sign for him, you’ll do anything he needs you to do if it’ll make him more comfortable with coping with this new change. You smile into his naked shoulder, the smell of sunscreen under your nose, his hair tickling your ear.

“Oh, god, are you guys serious?” Robin asks. “When’s the wedding?”

“Should’ve started with the joke,” Steve says, putting his chin atop your head rather than pulling away. You turn just enough to see Robin from the corner of your eye.

She raises her eyebrows. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing, just swapping out best friends for the better model.”

“I resent that, Steve, but I choose to forgive you because I’m in a good mood and Nancy made sandwiches.”

“My mom made them,” Nancy says from behind Robin's shoulder, looking down at the brown paper bag she’s carrying.

They turn away from you to call the kids in for lunch. “What did she…” Steve says.

“Her mom made sandwiches. I’ll get you a PB and J before Mike claims them all,” you promise.

He smiles a line, nodding at you appreciatively. When you turn away, he brings a hand to his ear, and he doesn’t hate himself for something he can’t help.

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