#mj's writing corner | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bittenbyyou · 11 months

Text

Smitten

High School!AU | Peter Parker x Reader

genre: fluff

description: Just Peter Parker falling for you and coming up with the silliest plan to talk to you more.

word count: 1.8k

warnings: some Spider-Man Homecoming spoilers, Peter being a dork lol

a/n: Hello! This is my first time writing for Peter and I’m such nervous posting it, but I adore him and thought the origin story of how my bf and I got together suited Peter so well. Lol. So enjoy!

The first time Peter heard about you was in freshman year when you were ranked number one in academics, earning jealous stares from everyone. But not from him; he was rather impressed.

Sophomore year was when your name came up again through his ex-girlfriend, Liz. Turns out you were her partner for an English project, which he didn’t think much of. He was happy with Liz… until he defeated her dad, who turned out to be a villain called “The Vulture”, and she and her mom moved to Oregon afterwards…

Anyway, it was now junior year and for the first time ever, he had a class with you—good ol’ AP U.S. History.

“Dude, over here,” Ned called out from the first row of seats near the back corner. Peter smiled at his best friend and made his way over, taking the seat behind him.

“Hey Ned.”

“So glad we have another class together.”

“You said it.”

The two made small talk until you arrived, taking the seat next to Ned. He was mutual friends with a lot of your friends, so you felt comfortable sitting next to someone you were at least acquainted with rather than a stranger.

“Hi Ned,” you said sweetly.

“Oh [Y/N], you’re in this class too? Nice!” Ned gestured a hand towards Peter. “This is my best friend, Peter.”

“Peter… Parker, right?” you asked. Peter was surprised you knew his full name, but then remembered Liz. He nodded his head a few too many times, but you found it endearing.

“Y-Yeah. Hi.”

“Hi. Nice to meet you. I’m [Y/N].”

Wow. You were cute.

“Sup losers,” a deadpanned voice said from behind you. You turned around to see MJ, jumping out of your seat to give her a big hug.

“MJ! We’re in the same class, yay!”

“I know you’re not hugging me this early in the morning,” she said with her index finger raised.

“You know you love me.”

“Ew.”

She gave you two pats on the back and you let go, giggling at her expression of faux disgust. You returned to your seat, which was in the middle of MJ and Ned. MJ then quickly whipped her head around to look at Peter.

“Sup Parker,” MJ said with a salute of two fingers.

“Hey MJ.”

“You met [Y/N] yet?”

“Yeah, Ned introduced us… you know her too?”

“Met her in an elective. She looked lonely.”

“You make me sound like a loser with no friends,” you said, pouting your lips.

“I have no friends either.”

“You have me!” you chirped.

“And what about us?” Ned asked, gesturing back and forth to him and Peter.

“Whatever,” MJ brushed off. The three of you laughed while Peter watched, feeling somewhat left out even though he was mentioned.

“I’m a bit jealous. You all already know each other,” you said. Wow, you said exactly what he was thinking. They knew you, but he didn’t.

“Well the only person you don’t know is Peter and I only met him because of the decathlon. He’s really not all that interesting,” MJ said, smirking in his direction.

“Are you serious? Peter’s the coolest,” Ned said, hyping him up like a true best friend. “Peter knows Sp—”

“Dude!” Peter exclaimed, hinting at him to shut up with his deadly glare.

Ned chuckled nervously. “I mean… you’ll get to know him, [Y/N]. And he’ll get to know you.”

*Ding!*

Saved by the bell.

From that day on, the four of you grew closer. Group work was always in teams of four in that class which worked out perfectly. Peter quickly learned you hated presentations because you would freeze up and trip on your words, so he volunteered to present instead just to hear you thank him and flash that sweet smile.

At lunch, Ned always invited you and MJ to join him and that’s when Peter learned how passionate you were about food. Specifically the school’s chicken alfredo.

“It’s delicious!” you said, doing a little happy dance after eating a forkful of pasta.

“It’s gross, processed food. Do we even know if it’s chicken?” MJ asked, eyeing the meat on her fork suspiciously.

“I don’t care, I’m still eating it,” you said, enjoying the noms.

“Aren’t you lactose intolerant?” Ned asked.

“That’s not stopping me.”

“I’m lactose intolerant,” Peter said without thinking. Everyone stared at him with a variety of expressions. MJ was skeptical, Ned was confused, and you were surprised.

“I literally saw you eating ice cream yesterday,” MJ pointed out.

“And his bowels paid for it,” Ned lied. Peter let out a nervous laugh.

“Hah, yeah, I was on the toilet… for hours.” You placed a hand over your mouth, trying your best not to laugh. “But I’m fine now!”

“Are you sure you should be eating lunch today then?” you asked. “Wouldn’t want your bowels to hurt again. I’ll do the honors of reducing food waste and eat it for you.”

MJ and Ned stared at Peter. Well, MJ was daring him to eat it with her piercing eyes while Ned gave him a knowing look.

“You can have it,” Peter said warmly, sliding his tray of food over to you.

“Yay!” you cheered. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

Because honestly seeing you eat and doing that happy dance again filled him up more than any food could. You were too cute.

Peter was sure of it. He definitely had a crush on you. It took him until almost the end of first semester to realize it, but he knew now.

He liked how smart you were. The way you answered any question the teacher threw at you so flawlessly was a mystery to him because history bored him.

He liked how funny you were. The way you were passionately defending why mayo was the superior condiment against MJ and her love for ketchup made him die of laughter.

He liked how kind you were. The way you helped another girl plan a dance for her quinceanera despite having so much homework.

He liked how cute you were. The way you fell asleep in class after being the first to finish your test.

He even liked how clueless you were. The way you knew absolutely nothing about Star Wars but still allowed him to ramble on and on about it in class and listen to him with a caring heart.

Yup. He definitely liked you.

A lot.

But he didn’t know how to tell you. You two didn’t hang out outside of school at all and he was so darn shy. It wasn’t until he and MJ hung out at Ned’s place one day when an opportunity arose. You were invited to his house as well, but you declined because of some projects you left till the last minute.

The trio were building Legos and at one point Ned had to go downstairs and help his lola cook dinner while MJ and Peter remained upstairs. She was sitting on Ned’s bed while Peter was on the floor continuing to build the Lego Death Star.

“I’m going to give you some advice, Pete,” MJ started to say. Peter looked up at her in confusion.

“About what?”

“About [Y/N].”

His eyes started to wander around the room. “W-What about [Y/N]?”

“What do you think about her?”

“What do I think a-about her? What’s not to think, she’s sweet. She’s nice. She’s kind.”

“Those are synonyms.”

“She’s smart. God, she is so smart, and she gets my jokes and actually laughs at them and—”

“Yup. You like her.”

His face fell. “No… No… No~.”

“So should I call her for you?” She whipped out her phone and Peter panicked.

“Don’t!”

“Why not? You have got to talk to her.”

“I do talk to her.”

“Outside of school,” MJ specified. “I have her number if you want it.”

“No, she’ll find it weird if I text her out of nowhere.”

“So you’re going to continue staring at her when she’s not looking like a total creep?”

“I don’t… I don’t stare,” Peter mumbled. MJ rolled her eyes at his denial.

“You do,” she teased. “Look, I’m going to the restroom. Here’s my phone. Do whatever you’d like with it.”

If Peter was a creep, then MJ was a psychopath because who would let anyone use their phone so freely? He still took the device from her hands and waited until he was alone to tap your name in MJ’s messages. His heart was racing at the thought of having your number, but he didn’t feel ready for it.

So… he did something else.

5:44 PM | MJ🖤: Hey 🙂

Yikes. He really was a creep.

5:45 PM | You 😇: Hi MJ! What’s up? Did y’all finish building the Legos?

Peter smiled to himself at your enthusiastic greeting.

5:45 PM | MJ🖤: No, not yet. Ned left us to help with dinner. How are you?

Your next reply didn’t come as fast this time. Peter panicked, wondering if he said something weird. Then again, this whole situation was borderline crazy.

5:49 PM | You 😇: I’m doing my homework. It’s so boring. Wish I was with you all. 🥺

5:50 PM | MJ🖤: We wish you were here too. 💖

Peter saw the thought bubble with three dots pop up, eagerly waiting for your reply.

5:50 PM | You 😇: Hey MJ… I have a question.

5:50 PM | MJ🖤: Go for it.

5:50 PM | You 😇: Who are you? Lol.

Shit. Shit. Shit. You knew. Oh my god, Peter’s life was over. He got up off the floor and started pacing around the room in panic.

5:51 PM | You 😇: I know you’re not MJ… so either you stole her phone and I’m going to have to report you for identity theft or she let you use her phone.

5:53 PM | MJ🖤 : Okay, it’s Peter. Don’t report me. 🥺

He held his breath for your next response, facepalming himself for getting caught so fast.

5:53 PM | You 😇: Peter, why are you pretending to be MJ? If you wanted to text me, I could’ve just given you my number. Haha.

5:53 PM | MJ🖤 : Wait, really? I’m sorry. Idk why I did that.😅

5:53 PM | You 😇: Yeah. Here’s my number XXX-XXX-XXXX. Please text me as yourself. Lolol.

Peter had the biggest grin spread across his face as he fell onto Ned’s bed in relief. He couldn’t help but laugh at the situation. By some miracle he did it. He got your number… he actually got your number.

“Why are you staring at my phone like a creepy serial killer?” He looked up to see MJ leaning against Ned’s door frame.

“Uh… I got her number?”

“How?”

“... You’re going to kill me.”

#peter parker x reader #peter parker fic #mcu peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker blurb #my writing #smitten

734 notes · View notes

greensagephase · 2 months

Text

Valentine's Day (Nonviolent Communication One-Shot)

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x SpiderFemaleReader (colleagues to friends to lovers; they're currently in their friendship era, so no romance but we still have soft Miguel!) Summary: Just a rainy Valentine's Day surprising your friends with baked sweets because Valentine's doesn't have to be only about romance. Word Count: 4,311 Short A/N: This is a one-shot for my Nonviolent Communication fanfic but can be read as a standalone. As I mentioned above, they're in their friendship era, so there's no romance, but Miguel lowkey got me blushing anyway soo! Warnings: None. Just reader and Miguel being their usual sweet and caring selves to each other. Masterlist Songs inspo: "Just the Two of Us" - Grover Washington, Jr., Bill Withers (I don't know why but this song just came to mind while writing this, so just look at it as a platonic song for now :) ) Fanfic's official music playlist:

Spider webs shaped like hearts decorate corners. Holographic hearts are displayed at the cafeteria. Even some of the tables have little decorations, more than likely set up by a small group of Spider members that usually take time of their day to do things like holiday decorating within the Spider Society to make the workplace “fun.” As to the holographic hearts out and about, you imagine those have to do with Lyla, who has been all too excited about Valentine's because of her heart-shaped glasses.

You walk through the cafeteria, past occupied tables where fellow Spider members sit. A reusable bag hangs from your shoulder in which you carry baked treats. You've successfully handed out containers filled with them to the majority of your friends, with the exception of Peter B. and MJ, and Miguel. You continue to search for Peter B., certain that you’ll find him here. As you walk, your gaze turns to the windows. It’s a cold and rainy day in Nueva York, and it’s also Valentine’s Day, which prompts a memory to flash through your mind, one that you put away for now. You focus on your goal: find Peter B. and then Miguel.

You slow down as you hear Peter's voice from somewhere, so you look around until you spot him talking with another member, carrying Mayday like always.

“Alright, pal, I'll see you around,” he says with his signature smile, giving the other member a pat on the back before they part ways.

Mayday sees you first and immediately begins to wiggle around, making Peter notice you. He grins and the two of you meet halfway, Mayday already reaching for you. You smile and upon meeting them, you accept one of her hands and play with it.

“Good morning, Mayday,” you say, greeting her. She squeals in delight before repeating “morning” now that she’s speaking two-word sentences. It’s amazing how much time has passed, how much she has grown, which you don’t let yourself think too much about. Instead, you focus on her attire for the day. She's wearing pants and tiny boots, and best of all, a cute pink sweater with red hearts printed all over it, showcasing Peter's spider symbol in the center of them.

It's no longer surprising. Mayday's closet is filled with spider-theme clothes, which has made you wonder if Peter has his own merchandise creator. You feel like it would be a thing Peter B. would definitely have.

“Hey, you heard that? She said ‘morning’ - that’s another word!” Peter says happily. “Daddy is so proud of you, honey! Wait till MJ hears about this!”

You chuckle. “It’s amazing. Before we know it she’ll be speaking full sentences.”

“Okay, that just made me, like, really sad. She’s growing up too fast,” Peter says quietly, holding his daughter close to his chest. His gaze is gentle as he stares at her. “It’s part of life, I know, but…”

“I’m sorry to have brought it up,” you say gently as you give him a gentle pat on his arm. “Would some baked treats make it better?”

That seems to get Peter and Mayday’s attention. “Baked treats?”

“Brownies. For Valentine’s,” you say, pulling out a container and offering it to him. “I baked some brownies for everyone.”

“Totally feel better now,” Peter says with a grin, accepting the box.

”For you and MJ, and maybe Mayday if she can eat them,” you say. “Happy Valentine’s Day!”

“Happy Valentine’s! Hey, they’re even heart-shaped! MJ is gonna be so happy. You know we all love your baking,” Peter says as he gets one out and eats it. Once he finishes eating, he says, “So amazing!”

“Glad you like them! Make sure to save some for MJ, though,” you reply with a smile. “Have you seen Miguel?”

Peter looks around, closing the box of treats. “I saw him earlier. He was going to the Go Home Machine room to check something but he might be back at his lab already,” he responds. His gaze flickers to your bag, taking notice of at least two boxes left in there, though he doesn’t ask anything.

“Alright, I’ll go check if he’s there. I’ll see you in a bit,” you say, saying goodbye to Peter and Mayday for now.

“See ya!”

You walk out of the cafeteria and head to Miguel’s lab, reaching it in no time. You stop at the entrance and as always, you call for Lyla to have her ask Miguel if you can enter. You never walk in unannounced out of respect, even though Lyla has told you that you should stop. Even Miguel has hinted at it, at the fact that you can just walk in, yet, you do it anyway out of respect.

“Y/N! Miguel isn’t here. He’s at the Go Home Machine room. Something’s up with the machine but he should be done in a few minutes. He said you can go in,” Lyla says, appearing suddenly and floating in midair.

“You asked him already?” you ask, amused.

“Yep. I think he’s even going to send you a message because he thinks you might not believe me when I tell you he says to go in.”

And of course, right after she says that you receive a notification from your gizmo, alerting you of a new message. A message from Miguel.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes. Please wait for me * inside *** the lab.”

You smile softly at his emphasis to wait inside. He knows you too well.

“See?” Lyla says with a soft smirk. “So, come on in! I see you have the goods.”

You laugh softly as you enter the lab, carrying your bag with the last two heart-shaped containers you bought a few days ago to package the baked treats. The containers were easy to hide in Gabriel’s old bedroom, the same one that’s your current temporary room since your building caught on fire a few weeks ago. Luckily, your floor was spared but lower floors did not have the same luck. Now, the building is under cleaning and reconstruction, a process that will take at least two months to finish. Or at least that’s what your landlord said. You’ve been staying in Nueva York with Miguel in his penthouse after he offered his place countless times. He assured you that you were welcomed to stay for however long you needed to, whether that was days, weeks, or months. There was even a moment you swear he almost said years, before he stopped himself.

So, you’ve been staying at Miguel’s penthouse in Gabriel’s, a man that you never met and unfortunately will never have the opportunity to due to his passing, old bedroom. You’ve made his room yours for the time being, even encouraged by Miguel to decorate it as you wish to make it feel like home because as he said, “my home is your home.”

And so, currently living with Miguel meant that you needed to find a way to hide your little Valentine’s surprise. You thought about baking treats for your group of friends, including Miguel, last week, but you knew that you’d need to come up with a way to have Miguel out of his own penthouse in order to truly surprise him as well. You quickly came up with a plan and even got a little help from a certain AI assistant, who was all too happy keeping Miguel busy here at HQ last night while you baked. You thought about your plan well, so much that you even baked a cake and cookies as an excuse, so that whenever Miguel got home, he wouldn’t wonder why it smelled like baked treats when there were none in sight, since you planned on hiding the Valentine’s treats in your room, packaged and ready to go for today. And, it has been a success. You’ve surprised all your friends with a little something, as a gesture of how much you care about them. The only one left now is Miguel. You briefly wonder why you didn’t just give them to him at the penthouse this morning when the two of you were having breakfast. For some reason it felt right to leave his delivery for last.

You walk through Miguel’s lab, heading straight to his platform, deciding that you’ll wait for him there until he comes back. You take a seat on it and gaze around. Even from here you can hear the sound of rain, which sounds very peaceful. The silence and the pockets of darkness brings you comfort. You can’t help but find it amusing that over time, you’ve spent more and more time in Miguel’s lab. You recall the days when you hardly came in here. Those were days when Jess and Miguel called you in, usually whenever Jess was delivering a report to Miguel about a mission you and others had been on with her, asking you to go since you were her pupil. Now, you’re here every day, and not just once but multiple times throughout. You can easily spend two or three hours here while Miguel and you work on your own thing.

You smile to yourself. Life can really change.

The rain continues to go strong outside. You let it distract your thoughts for a few seconds, which reminds you yet again of a memory. Of a Valentine’s Day with your Peter.

It was the second before last Valentine’s Day you spent with him. It was also a rainy day in your universe. As always, you baked something for Peter since he loved your baking and cooking. You knew you could never go wrong with baked treats since they were his weakness. He, on the other hand, had a few plans up his sleeve. He always did.

You smile at the memory. He had planned a whole evening that included a restaurant reservation, but the day was cold and a rainy one, being February. It started raining at some point in the night and the rain didn’t stop throughout the day. There was so much rain that the restaurant had to cancel dinners due to flooding two hours before your scheduled reservation. It didn’t matter to Peter though. He asked you to get ready regardless, to take your time.

An hour and a half later, there was a knock on your bedroom door from Peter. As if he didn’t live there, or as if you didn’t share that bedroom, but you opened the door regardless with a smile.

And there was Peter, dashing as always. His eyes lit up at the sight of you, as if he hadn’t seen you a million times before, as if he was falling in love with you for the first time all over again.

“So, we had a little change of plans,” he said with a sweet smile. “But rain or no rain, we’re having a romantic dinner.”

“Don’t we always have a romantic dinner?” you asked softly.

“An extra romantic dinner, darling,” he replied, taking your hand and kissing the back of it with one of his hands.

You smile softly now as you remember that evening.

He held your hand and instead of leading you to the dining area, he led you to the small living room section of your apartment. The overhead lights were off. The only light in the area came from lamps and lit candles spread around the space. The scent of food filled the air, a sign that Peter had cooked. Soft music played in the background from Peter’s record player and of course, his choice was a vinyl of romantic songs. You had a feeling that the night would end with a dance in the living room. Your suspicions only grew as you both stepped onto a picnic blanket and found couch pillows placed around so that the two of you could sit comfortably. There was a vase in the middle with flowers and around it were things like linen napkins and utensils, two glasses for drinks, and everything else needed for a dinner.

Then, there was Peter, serving you a drink and dinner with flickering candles all around, soft music in the back as you talked. You remember telling him that his idea was lovely and sweet, that it would be unforgettable. The night did end with a dance, with your arms wrapped around his neck and his around your waist. You even remember the pit pat of rain against your apartment’s windows and how you could see the flash of lightning even through the curtains. You recall what it was like to dance with Peter. It wasn’t the first nor last time. There were times before and times after that night, all in your small apartment, the one that was supposed to be temporary after graduating from college. The two of you talked about moving to a bigger apartment, one that would be comfortable for a family, for children. Neither of you minded your apartment in the moment though.

You still don’t. Even if you’re alone now. Even if Peter has been gone for so many years.

“Happy Valentine’s,” Peter whispered that night as he held you close to his chest. His arms were warm and protectively wrapped around you, your back to his chest.

“Happy Valentine’s,” you say now.

“Happy… Valentine’s.”

You look up as you hear the voice, finding Miguel standing a few feet away from you at last. His gaze meets yours and you notice his head is tilted to the side slightly, watching you curiously. You blink, pulling yourself out of your memory and offer Miguel a small grin, one he returns instantly.

“You keep asking for permission to come into the lab. You don’t have to ask,” Miguel says as he steps closer, breaking the short silence.

“It’s out of respect. Besides, I see the way you get annoyed when members just walk in,” you reply, amused.

Miguel looks down at you with a soft frown, his lips in a small pout as if silently asking, ‘Really?’

“Yes, but -” Miguel pauses and sighs. It’s different. You’re different. You’re not just any member. You’re his friend. His close friend. His… Miguel clears his throat. “You… Are different. You know why.”

Yes, you know why. You’re friends. Close friends. He’s your… “Right, but I still like to ask. Just to make sure.”

Miguel’s frown deepens, he raises an eyebrow almost in annoyance, yet he can never be annoyed with you. Ever. “Right, just to make sure,” he repeats, raising his hands in surrender, giving up and realizing there’s no changing your mind about this. At least not now, Miguel thinks to himself.

“Anyway, I brought you something,” you say, standing up at last from his platform. His crimson eyes immediately fall upon your bag. He’s been too busy thinking about how you always ask for permission to walk into the lab that he failed to see the reusable bag near you. You close the distance between the two of you, stopping just a few feet.

Miguel wonders what exactly you’ve brought him but he doesn’t have to wonder for long when you pull out two small containers, pink and heart-shaped. You hand them to him with a warm smile.

“I baked a few treats for everyone. Happy Valentine’s Day!”

Looking at the small containers, Miguel accepts them. He can’t help but feel a little awestruck for a few seconds. When was the last time someone gave him anything on this day? He hasn’t celebrated in years. It was so long ago.

“I hope you like them. I baked a little special thing for you. It was my first time baking them but I think they turned out well,” you say, bringing Miguel back to the present. “Go on,” you tell him gently, excited to see his reaction to the second box’s contents specifically.

He nods and opens the first one. Heart-shaped brownies in the size of your palm greet his eyes. He can’t help but admire how you arranged them with cute baking parchment paper, going the extra mile to make him and your other friends feel special today. His lips curl into a soft smile and he feels a wave of heat rush to his cheeks. You baked brownies for everyone and you included him. A warmth spreads through his chest at the thought, the realization.

You stare at Miguel, his smile and blush not going unnoticed. The sight makes you smile.

“Thank you,” Miguel says as he keeps looking at them, the amazing smell reaching his nose. He already knows everything you baked will be amazing. It always is. His mouth waters just at the sight.

“Check the other box!”

Miguel grins at you and nods, closing the first book even though he wishes he could go ahead and eat one of the brownies, but your excitement over the other box deters him. He wants to see what has you so happy and anxious for him to see, so he opens the next box. His lips part and eyebrows raise in surprise for a few seconds when he sees the contents before he happily smiles at you.

“You made conchas! Heart-shaped conchas! You… I’ve never seen conchas shaped like this before, not even at the panaderia. When did you even bake them?” Miguel asks, staring at you with amazement before he lifts the box to his face, inhaling the sweet scent of fresh conchas. His mouth waters even more, thinking about how good these will go with a mug of café de olla.

You chuckle softly, pleased with Miguel’s reaction. “Last night. Before you arrived from HQ. The cake and cookies were just a distraction so you wouldn’t see them and the brownies. I wanted to surprise everyone, including you. So, I recruited someone’s help,” you say with a soft shrug of your shoulders, prompting Lyla to appear.

“That would be me,” Lyla says with a soft grin, arms crossed over her chest. “I had to keep you busy, Miguel.”

Miguel scoffs playfully as he realizes and remembers the previous night. “That’s why you kept messing up the anomaly datasheet.”

“And why I kept moving your tabs around,” she replies, which makes Miguel frown for a few seconds.

“That, too. Not appreciated,” he mumbles.

“I had to do what I had to do, to ensure Y/N’s mission was a success, which it was,” Lyla says smiling.

Miguel shakes his head at her but he’s not even slightly upset. Instead, he’s highly amused that you recruited Lyla’s help to keep him occupied at HQ, all to surprise him with these lovely and delicious baked treats. His cheeks feel even more hot now.

“They smell amazing. I’m not even going to lie, my mouth is watering,” Miguel admits quietly as he nods to the conchas. “Thank you.”

“Always,” you reply softly. “I bet… They’d be really good with café de olla.”

Miguel grins. “Is this your subtle way of saying you’d like café de olla?”

You shrug. “I’m just saying, heart-shaped conchas and café de olla sound like a good combination to me. I think, it would be quite an experience. I mean, you’re saying you’ve never seen heart-shaped conchas before so… I was just thinking, you know?”

“Oh, yeah, right.” Miguel gives you a soft smirk before he grabs one of the conchas. You can’t help but notice how small it looks in his hand as he holds it up, as if showing it to you. “You were just thinking,” he says, still smirking, raising his eyebrow as he looks at you.

“It’s just a thought,” you reply, smiling softly. “Something to think about.”

“Definitely something to think about… which means you have more at home, yes?”

“There might be more conchas at the penthouse, yes.”

“I see,” he replies. “I guess cafeteria coffee will do for now.”

You tilt your head to the side in curiosity. “For now?”

“There might be café de olla in the evening.”

“I see,” you reply with a smile.

“I hear it might be quite an experience.”

“I have to agree with whoever said that,” you say.

“You know, I do, too,” Miguel responds, still smirking softly at you.

Lyla hovers between the two of you, glancing from you to Miguel. “Great, so there’s gonna be conchas and café de olla,” she says.

You both turn to look at her. Right, Lyla is there.

“I’ll go get some coffee,” Miguel says as he places the concha back in the box, making sure to close it correctly.

“Alright. I’m going to go ahead and start on the report. There’s still so much to do,” you reply heading to the desk you always work on, the one that Miguel set up for you many months ago once you started helping him with the weekly reports.

“Sounds good. I’ll be back,” Miguel responds, placing his baked treats on his platform.

“Don’t worry Miguel, I’ll look after them,” Lyla jokes seeing how careful he has been with the boxes, as if they are precious to him. The teasing tone makes Miguel frown but he doesn’t respond as he heads out of the lab to grab coffee for the two of you.

_♡_

You sit in Miguel’s living room many hours later. The time on your tablet reads 7:16pm. Lamps lit up his space and the fireplace is on, warming the entire penthouse. Soft music coming from Miguel’s record player, the one you gifted him for Christmas several weeks ago, plays in the background.

You sit on one of the couches, a blanket over your legs as you work on the report from your tablet, the same one that Miguel gifted you for Christmas. You sit alone now since Miguel excused himself about twenty-five minutes ago, saying he needed to get something done. You didn’t ask what he had to do, not wanting to intrude on his privacy. You told him that you’d be in the living room. You only realized he was in the kitchen because you heard the opening and closing of drawers, but other than that, you have no idea what Miguel has been up to. Besides, you’ve been caught up working on the report, trying to finish it so it’s ready for scheduled meetings later this week.

You move your pen around your tablet’s screen, fixing something with a frown. Your concentration comes to a halt as a shadow covers the lighting. You look up, only to find Miguel carrying a tray that he sets on the console table that’s placed between the two long couches. It doesn’t take long before the lovely scent reaches you. Café de olla.

You glance at Miguel as soon as you recognize the scent, his crimson eyes meet yours and there’s a soft smile on his face.

“How about a break from the report?” he asks, taking a seat on the floor, clad in his lounge clothes.

You smile softly and nod, quickly placing the tablet away and joining him on the floor. It’s then that you see everything that’s on the tray.

He sets out the mugs with the hot and rich liquid, careful not to burn himself or you. He places three dessert plates out. One with brownies, another with conchas, and finally one with bimbuñuelos, a sugary pastry similar to the buñuelos you’ve had before, his personal addition to the sweets. You realize he bought them earlier when he arrived with a pastry box an hour later after you. You smile softly as you look at the sweets, finding it cute that everything is heart-shaped.

“So, there was café de olla,” you say, looking at him, still smiling.

“And there were more conchas,” Miguel replies as he hands you a clean plate to eat, smiling.

You chuckle softly before the two of you dig in, savoring the freshly made coffee and baked sweets in his dimly lit living room. Outside, Nueva York continues to have rain. Flashes of white lit up the sky every now and then due to lightning.

The two of you engage in conversation as you eat, enjoying each other’s company. And while you reply to something he said, a brief thought crosses his mind. This has turned out to be “quite an experience” as you said, but it isn’t because of café de olla or even the delicious heart-shaped conchas you baked that make him want to sigh in delight with each bite he takes. No, this evening has been “quite an experience” because of you alone. His close friend. His best…

Miguel grins at you as he focuses on your response, always wishing to give you his full attention, before he replies, continuing the conversation.

You take a drink from your mug, noticing a gentle but sudden flush on Miguel’s cheeks. Your gaze flickers to the fireplace for a second, unbeknownst to you that a certain realization of Miguel’s is the true culprit for the rosiness that now cover his cheeks.

♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡ Translation for Spanish words: Conchas - Mexican pan dulce, pastry; word translates to "seashell" because the pastry is kind of shaped like one Panaderia - bakery Café de olla - coffee made in a pot Bimbuñuelos - fried dough sprinkled with sugar; similar to buñuelos Buñuelos - fried dough fritter: typically a Christmas dessert _____ A/N: Happy Valentine's Day! Miguel got me giggling and kicking my feet here! Why is he not real? Anyway, I had this little idea earlier in January and then @heyohalie asked me a while back how reader and Miguel from "Nonviolent Communication" would celebrate Valentine's (if they even did celebrate, since they're currently just friends), and I decided I needed to write it! So, here it is :) Thank you for reading this far and I hope you enjoyed it!!

173 notes · View notes

captainkirkk · 4 months

Text

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.

Spider-Man

if you wanna be my lover (you gotta get with my friends) by mindshelter

MJ still remembers Ned’s initial disbelief when Peter—infamous for missing class back in sophomore year, suspended for two weeks freshman year—finished his bit of the group write-up four days early. The work was perfect, and so was Ned's chemistry grade. After that it was Peter this, Peter that, Peter parted the Red Sea, it’s true, MJ, I was there; I saw it. MJ, hey, are you listening?

Then Ned says, “We should invite Peter to join AcaDec.”

or; peter isn’t rock bottom on midtown’s social ladder; he’s underground. friendless, rumoured to get into street fights. ned declares him bestie material anyway, and mj catches feelings.

she also meets tony stark(?) in foodtown, of all places, and makes a spider-man(??) sighting.

M!ik

law of insomnia by thewunderkind

אנחנו נפגשים שוב” "I'm sorry, I do not understand," And then Iruma lowers himself, getting on his knees and bowing until his forehead meets the ground.

Or the one wherein they're soulmates and only Alice is aware of what is happening.

how's it go again? by timdrakesuperspy

Tim Drake's universe is falling apart. He's surprised when he doesn't fall with it, due only to Mr. Mxyzptlk's misplaced feeling of debt. He's even more surprised when the imp crash-land him in the middle of the Wayne family's dinner.

OR: After Tim fails to bring back enough proof that Bruce isn't dead, his life sucks. So of course the universe falls apart. So of course a nosy interdimensional imp decides to intervene and send Tim to a universe unnervingly off from his.

the back corner booth by destiny919

"Hey, Hood," Rhys says seriously. "I've got something for you, but it's a little outside your usual service range."

Jason raises his eyebrows under the helmet. He never gets kids from outside the Alley, if only because they have no way of meeting one of his liaisons, or any reason to trust the Red Hood. "How far outside?"

Rhys smirks. "Not too far. Just Bristol."

Jason really, really hopes his appalled expression is coming through the helmet.

SVSSS

to find an intended (a bit unintentionally) by nyoomerr

It takes about five minutes after they first meet for Shen Yuan to start flirting with Luo Binghe. Aggressively, too, in a way that even some of Luo Binghe’s most frequent bed partners wouldn’t dare to. It’s shocking and infuriating and, unfortunately, Luo Binghe finds himself charmed.

Too bad Shen Yuan doesn’t actually know that his actions come off as demon-flirting in the first place.

Clone Wars

an ill-advised gift by S_C_G

The Senate tries their hand at some regime change in the Mandalore sector.

It doesn't go well.

The Senate tries their hand at sending a gift to better relations and buy some time.

They couldn't have made a worse choice.

Or, the Senate gives the Mand'alor a child. This, quite predictably, backfires.

let me lie with you by MadMothMadame

The War is over. With the Sith conspiracy uncovered, and Sepratists suing for peace, Obi-Wan knew things would not be the same as they were before. Some changes would be for the worse, but when he thought about Cody, and all they had the potential to become now that rank and the weight of war no longer had to stand between them-

Well, some change could only be for the better.

He should have known better.

#i thought i uploaded this WEEKS ago #my bad everyone #at least i posted it before 2024 #happy new years ig #weekly fic round up #my posts #fic recs #svsss recs #sw recs #marvel recs #m!ik recs #dc recs

222 notes · View notes

casuallyawkardd · 9 months

Note

Hi dear, how are you?, could you write a imagine where reader offered to be a nanny for mayday and the newest member of the HQ, jess's son, and when Miguel arrives home, he can't take his eyes off reader as she puts the children to bed slept. And I couldn't get out of Miguelito's mind when he wants to put a baby in you, please.

Hello! I am well! Just got some good news in my personal life so even better than usual 🥰 Anywho I think this idea is so cute so let's dive in

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x AFAB!Reader

Warnings: fluff, established relationship, suggestive themes but mostly PG, not fluent in spanish so plz correct grammar/spelling errors

"What the hell is this?"

Your head whips around to see your husband's figure in the entryway of the apartment. Miguel had just gotten off work, it had been a long day and he was hoping to just spend the rest of his afternoon at home; followed by curling up in bed with his arms wrapped around you. Maybe even do a little more than sleep once the two of you got under the covers.

Instead, he comes home to find you sitting on the floor surrounded by baby blocks and plastic animals. Miguel immediately recognized your little guests. Mayday, who was currently crawling her way over to greet him, and Gerry, Jess's new baby, who you were burping over your shoulder.

You, having ignored Miguel's initial comment, somehow made it to your feet without using your hands, which were occupied with Gerry, taking a few steps in his direction. "Jess and Peter stopped by and said they needed a sitter while they were training," you explain like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Last I checked, they were both married," Miguel's arm scooped up Mayday, who had already crawled halfway up his leg, "Can't MJ or Jess's husband watch them?"

"I don't know, I saw cute babies and said yes," you shrugged simply. The deadpan look Miguel gives you makes you chuckle softly, "C'mon, don't be like that. It's only for a few hours. Besides, it'll give you some practice."

"Practice for what?" You roll your eyes at his stubbornness, planting Gerry on one hip to make room for Mayday on the other, taking both babies to the kitchen for a snack. "....¿Mi amor?"

It took some convincing, but eventually Miguel was aboard the babysitter train. In a way, you felt like it was like you were playing house with him, a few hours of simulated family time. Playing pretend with the little toys Peter had brought with him, bouncing the little ones in your lap and pretending they were flying as you maneuvered them through the air. Something about the domesticity of it was charming to you, watching Miguel trying to fetch Mayday after she had crawled up onto the ceiling. She didn't make it easy for him, but seeing your husband's face shift from annoyed to amused once she fell into his arms warmed your heart.

The four of you were now sitting on the couch. It had gotten late, the two little ones having fallen asleep while watching some random kids movie you had thrown on. You looked between the baby boy in your arms and your husband, who currently had Mayday passed out on his chest.

"This is nice," you say, Miguel glancing at you once you have his attention. It makes you suppress a giggle, knowing he's probably trying to move as little as possible so as not to wake Mayday.

"S'pose it is," he begrudgingly agrees. looking back at the television. "Although, the science in this movie is completely unfounded. I don't think you can bring someone back from the dead with the power of love."

His commentary has you scoffing, "It's about the message, Miguelito, not the science."

"...Well it's a pretty shity message."

"Are you saying you don't think love conquers all?"

"Ye-" the words die on Miguel's tongue when he notices how your eyes narrow and the corners of your mouth turn down, "No? No. I'm not saying that."

Your expression softens, but only slightly, turning your attention to Gerry who's tiny hand is wrapped around your pointer finger. "I love baby hands. They're so chunky and small," you voice your thoughts, absentmindedly pressing down on Gerry's hand with your thumb, "Aww, squishy, little humans."

"Oh, you've got it bad," Miguel chuckles, the sound rumbling in his chest, "Cómo se dice...oh yeah, baby fever." How do you say...

You shoot him a smirk, sitting a little straighter, "Maybe I do, what about it?"

Something in the way he looks at you shifts, the glimmer of admiration turning into something much darker. The kind of look that makes you hot under the collar, "Maybe I'll have to find the cure."

A knock at the door pulls you from the conversation, face red as if you just got caught doing something you weren't supposed to be doing. There's an internal sigh of relief when you see it's only Jess and Peter coming to pick up the kids. In all honesty, you only half pay attention to the small talk that ensues, your answers simple and brief when they ask how the kids were and if they had gotten dinner.

As the door shuts, the three of you exchanging your final farewells, a familiar arm snakes around your waist, pulling you into your husband's firm chest. His lips tickle your ear, making you jump as a chill goes down your spine.

"Let's go to bed, mi amor. I think I know just the thing to make you feel better," he's uncharacteristically playful with his words, adjusting his hold so his hand rests on your stomach. "te verás tan bonita con mi bebé dentro de ti." You'll look so pretty with my baby inside you.

Tags:

@prettylittlebrowngirl @khaleesihavilliard @leahnicole1219 @edgycatx

#miguel o'hara #reader insert #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara headcanons #miguel o'hara x you #spiderman 2099 x reader #lovely anons #anon ask

386 notes · View notes

melissa-kenobi · 4 months

Text

Which One?

[PS5 Peter Parker x Reader]

A/N: hii, i know I've been so inactive on here :( and I'm sorry anyways I absolutely adore PS5 Spidey and have been wanting to write for him, so here we go xx

Summary: Peter is forced to make a choice.

***

"MJ! Where's-? Harry..." Peter says breathlessly as he watches MJ sat opposite what used to be his best friend. Her face scared for whatever it was Harry had planned.

"Pete... you look tense." Harry smirks as he reaches out with a tendril. "Coffee?"

"We need to talk." Peter says as he glances between MJ and Harry.

"Ah-ah, not yet. We're still waiting on one more person. Your girlfriend." Harry says your name with a grin on his face. A tendril sneaks around MJ, pulling a seat out for Peter to sit down. "Sit. She's not here yet."

"No. Harry, you leave her out of this!" Peter says, fists clenched, but takes a seat. "She's got nothing to do with this. It's between you and me. Let her and MJ go."

Harry ignores Peter. "You must get tired, making the world a better place every... single day! But I can help. All you have to do is let me."

MJ glances at Harry, her face worried for her best friend, "Harry, this isn't you!"

"Wrong! This is the real me." Harry says almost comically, his eyebrow furrowing as he looked at Peter. He stands up, pushing the table away as he looks at Peter with fury.

The keys in the door rattle as it squeaks open and you walk in, face flushed almost as if you'd ran over here. "Hey Pete- I got your text, what hap-?" You were cut off as you took in the scene before you.

"Harry?" You say equally shocked and surprised that he was here. "I- I didn't know you were back- Pete you never mentioned it."

You quickly scan the room as you notice MJ sat in the corner. Peter, in his Spidey suit, sat next to her, jaw locked in anger as he looked at you hopelessly. MJ looked scared out her mind as she looked at you, then back to Harry, praying you would help them.

"Coffee?" Harry asks as he walks over to you, gently guiding you to sit next to him as he pours you some coffee. "We were having a lovely little chat about Peter sharing some of the load."

Peter's fist clenched in anger as he watched Harry touch you. "Don't do this Harry."

"Do what Pete?" Harry asked, lips turning into a smirk as he raised an eyebrow curiously. His hands placed on your shoulders as he gently pushed you to sit down. "I'm making her a coffee. Sugar, darling?"

"Oh, no thank you." You say, making eye contact with Pete opposite as you gently lifted your taser to show him. You watched as Peter's eyes widened and he tried to shake his head. Harry stands behind you, hands on your shoulders as he speaks. You shuffle forward awkwardly feeling very uncomfortable but Harry pulls you back gently.

"Peter, I finally have the power to realize our vision. Are you... giving up on me?" Harry says he tilts his head, eyes watching Peter as he stood up. Peter's eyes flicker between you and Harry.

"Harry..." Peter begins slowly, "We have to get that thing off you-"

The table in front of you snaps in half as you watch MJ shriek, standing up next to Peter. You breathe heavily as you watch the black tendril enlarge on the table, your eyes widen as it slithers over your body and back to Harry. Peter looked to MJ, to you then to Harry.

"Do not." Harry growls, both hands turning into black tendrils, holding the back of your chair tighter. "Call us a thing."

You whimper as the tendrils move closer to your neck. You clutch the taser tightly as you look at your boyfriend, "Peter..."

Within seconds, you rip out of the tendrils grip, out of Harry's grip, and shove the taser into his abdomen, activating it. You felt the buzz of it rebound as Harry and the Symbiote screech in agony.

The gun drops to the ground as you watch the Symbiote hiss. It's slimey tendrils grab the chair and throw it in the air in anger, before reaching for you. In an instant, Peter throws his webs out, pulling you to him just as the chair breaks where you previously were. Peter holds you against him, clutching you tightly as if his life depended on it.

"Harry..." Peter begins.

"We are not Harry." Harry growls, as his body begins to transform. The tendrils swirl around him, enveloping his body as he begins to grow. Harry's body gone as a menacing creature took its place, a creature manifested with a fanged mouth, teeth as sharp as blades and a tongue that looked as grotesque as the rest of it.

You could hear MJ's heavy breathing as her eyes grew at the sight of the Symbiote.

"We. Are. VENOM."

Harry's voice was mixed in with the symbiote before it completely took over. The Symbiote snarled as Peter pushed you and MJ behind him, arms out to protect the two of you. MJ grabbed your arm in case you needed to run.

Venom aimed a tendril at Peter, hitting him straight in the chest as you and MJ failed to pull him out the way. The three of you flew into the kitchen, Peter stuck in the wall, MJ on the table and you sprawled on the floor. You heard Venom's footsteps move closer as you crawled on the ground trying to find a weapon or something but was pulled back as Venom grabbed your leg, pulling you towards him.

You screamed in terror for Peter as you were dragged across the floor. Venom held you in the air by your leg before going after MJ.

"No!" You screamed as you tried to punch Venom, your attempts futile as he wrapped another tendril around your arms, holding you by your throat as you screamed, "Pete!"

MJ screamed as Venom went after her, grabbing her by the neck and holding her in front of him just as Peter burst out of the wall and screamed your name.

"Y/N!" Peter ran into the living room, his eyes landing on yours as he saw you and MJ on either side of Venom, both being held by your throats as you squirmed in his grip. "MJ!"

Venom snarls as his tongue swirls around your face, mouth widening in a mocking grin.

"Don't." Peter warns as he listens to the sound of yours and MJ's terrified screams.

"Choose..." Venom hissed as he squeezed MJ's throat tighter, making her scream.

"MJ!" Peter called out as he took a step forward only to have Venom growl lowly at him to keep back.

"Is that your choice? You'd let your girlfriend di-"

"No!" Peter screams in agony, arms reaching out to try and grab you. "No- no, don't do this! Don't make me choose- please?"

The Symbiote snarls in annoyance, "Pick. Now!"

"Take me, take me instead. You want me, not them! Take me! Let them go Harry..." Peter's eyes dart between the two of you, not wanting to lose either of you.

"You won't pick? Fine. I'll do it for you." Venom snarls as he throws MJ to the ground, engulfing her in his black tendrils. Her screams muffled as she is transformed into something else.

"Let her go!" Peter demands but MJ is already under his control, MJ now gone and another Symbiote in her place,"MJ!"

"Show him what he's missing..." Venom smirks as he takes a step back to admire his work.

"Peter!" You scream as Venom wraps his arms around you, gripping you against his chest as he holds you tightly.

"You can't have them!" Peter screams panicked as he throws a web to grab you but is cut off by MJ, who jumps in and rips it away, grinning at Peter.

"Too late! He's already got us." MJ snarls as she signals to Venom to go. Venom takes one look at Peter before jumping through the roof, taking you with him.

"Pete- Peter! No! No-" Your voice drowns out as you watch Peter's attempts to save you fail, as MJ thrawts each one.

"Y/N!"

***

Pt 2???

169 notes · View notes

forever-rogue · 9 months

Note

Hello there Bee, your writing for Miguel O'Hara was perfect, thank you so much for it 🫂

I was wondering if you could do one where he's so deeply in love with her but doesn't want to tell her because he's afraid of being rejected, he wants to protect her so they always go to missions together until one day she gets hurt and because he's afraid of loosing her, he finally tells her how he's been feeling for a long time

Thank you so much c:

AN | It’s been a minute but here we are with some more grumpy x sunshine! I hope you enjoy 🥰

Warnings | Nondescript mentions of violence, Language

Pairing | Miguel x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 3k

Masterlist | Main, Spider-Man

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Inhale. Exhale.

That's what you kept repeating to yourself as you approached the front doors to the Spider Headquarters. Your heart beat around your chest but you tried to push away all your worries and insecurities.

Well - the one major worry you had anyway. Most things didn't scare you anymore, you were well past that point in your life. It was one singular person that made you nervous. Miguel O'Hara.

The man that appeared to hate you more than anything or anyone else. You weren't even sure what you had done to bring on the hatred but it had appeared slowly at first and then all at once. Now you just tried to avoid him as much as you could, but in the event that you were faced with him, you tried to be as kind as possible. There was no reason to be mean, right? You hoped that one day Miguel might get that memo as well.

When you got inside, you looked around and tried to see if anything seemed out of place or…if there was some sort of chaos. But it all seemed utterly normal so you walked towards your little desk area.

"Hey there!" You startled at the sound of Peter's bright and happy voice, spinning around in your chair to find him watching you with an overly cheery smile, "how're you today?"

"I'm just peachy, Pete. What's going on?" The man's face flushed and you knew immediately that something was going on. He was so easy to read despite his best efforts.

"Umm…well," he waved his hands around for a moment, stammering nervous as you just stared at him, "well, I don't…your day might get worse."

"Oh?" You leaned back in your chair as you raised an eyebrow at him, "and just why is that? What do you know that I don't?"

"You're supposed to be partnered with…Miguel today," he said it so quickly that you almost didn't catch it. But the name stood out so clearly that you were immediately able to figure out what was going on, "just so you know, you know?"

"How do you know that?"

"Word spreads fast around here," he volunteered lamely, as you sighed at him, "and ugh, it might be my fault."

"What?!" He was afraid of exactly this reaction and flinched slightly, "Peter - why?"

"I have to be home today," he cleared his throat, "big family thing with MJ and Mayday. So…you know."

"Fine," you pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration, "fine. Only because I love your wife and daughter as much if not more than you."

"I am so sorry," he grimaced, "I'll make it up to you somehow."

"It's…it's fine," you swallowed the lump in your throat. It did suck…but you'd live and would just be as kind as usual. And it would be over before you knew it, "this is going to be…fantastic."

“Just don’t kill each other and it should all be fine,” Peter kept taking a few steps back, creating a further distance between the two of you, “and then we can all resume our normal programming next week!”

“I don’t hate him,” your voice softened as a frown tugged down the corners of your mouth. You truly didn’t hate him and you hated the idea that people would think you did. You always tried to treat everyone with the same kindness and you were known for being a ray of sunshine, “I think… I think he might hate me.”

“He doesn’t hate you,” Peter shrugged slightly as you sighed lightly, “he’s just that way with everyone. He’s a huge douche, you know that.”

“As much as I appreciate your opinions Parker,” both of you froze at the sound of his voice. He sounded just as annoyed and frustrated as ever, “I believe you were supposed to leave already to get back to your wife and daughter, no?”

“Uhh, yup…that’s…gotta go!” he looked between the two of you before offering you a small grimace and turning to basically sprint away. You bit the inside of your cheek before turning your attention to the man in question.

“Miguel, I-”

“Get suited up,” he didn’t even spare you an actual glance. He merely caught your eye before turning around to leave again, “we’re leaving in twenty. We’ve got a job to do.”

“Miguel.”

“Don’t be late,” he was already walking away again and all you could do was sigh, “or I will leave with you.”

Yeah, okay, cool, cool, cool. This apparently was going to be the absolute worst; part of you was almost tempted to be late just so you wouldn’t have to go. You weren’t feeling very welcome but at the same time, your duties were important and you weren’t about to let him go alone.

“Well then,” you attempted to psych yourself up, “let’s do this…and get it over with.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Miguel had been silent, to the point of it being almost eerie, besides giving you some instructions and directions. You'd tried to make some small talk at the start but the only responses you received were grunts or scoffs. It had definitely deflated your mood and after a while you gave up and remained silent.

"Hey," Miguel waved his hand in front of your face as you snapped back into attention. You hadn't realized you'd spaced out so much, "are you even paying attention?"

"Y-yeah…yes," you offered him a tight smile as he hung his head with a heavy sigh, "sorry. Could you just run that by me again?"

"I need you to focus," he caught your eye and there was a dangerous glint to him that caused you to swallow thickly, "otherwise I'll send you right back and this is the last time you'll get to go on a mission."

"That's not fair!" You hadn't meant to sound like a petulant child, but at least you hadn't also stomped your foot. His jaw twitched as he glared at you, "you've never said that to anyone-"

"Morales."

"He's a child," you ran a hand through your hair in exasperation, "this isn't fair, Miguel and you know that. Why do you hate me so much?"

If you'd been looking at his face you'd have noticed the way his face fell momentarily. You swallowed the lump in your throat and tried to control the squeaking and stop the tears that threatened to well up.

"You're also so mean to me!" Alright. Maybe you were already sounding hysterical but it was a lot of emotions at once, "its always me! I try to be nice, Miguel. I don't like not being nice, it's just…not in my nature. But you make it so hard. A-and I'm not asking for anything spectacular, just a hello once a while or at least don't totally ignore me when I'm talking to you!"

“Are you finished?” his tone was the same as it always was: cold and calm and calculated. You tried to blink away the burning of your eyes.

“No,” you put your hands on your hips and stared him down, “if you’re going to be mean to me or act like I’m the worst thing in the world, can you at least tell me what I did to offend you so much? I mean - why even have me working with you and the rest of the team if you don’t trust me or think I’m worthy of being here! If I’m such a horrible person, just cut me loose and let me go so you never have to see me again!”

By the time you were done, angry tears had run down your cheeks which you hastily brushed away. You felt like you had just put your heart and feelings on the line and he didn’t seem phased. He looked at you with a raised eyebrow before sighing heavily, “if you’re done, we’ve got some bad guys to catch.”

“Y-you’re not even going to say anything to what I just said?” your lip trembled with effort not to cry further. He’d already turned his back to you and started to walk away. Only this time, you didn’t run after him to catch up, “fine! You know what? I quit! Do this yourself!”

You didn’t even wait for a response before turning on your heel and walking in the other direction. You were already out of sight by the time Miguel turned around and realized that you’d been serious. He ran a hand over his face in exasperation before stomping after you, muttering under his breath. He hadn’t wanted this at all; especially because this meant that he couldn’t keep any eye on you.

“Hey!” you’d been walking around for a bit when you finally heard the angry voice. Your shoulders stiffened when you realized that Miguel had found you. Instead of giving him the satisfaction of falling back to him, you kept walking with your head held high. But then you felt a harsh hand wrap your bicep and pull you back.

“What the f-”

“Finally,” oh. That voice definitely wasn’t Miguel. You slowly turned around and found yourself with…well, the bad guy. He looked at you with a wicked smile that caused goosebumps to well up all over your skin, “I’ve been looking for you, little Spider. Only I was hoping you’d be with that big, dumb guy.”

“Listen buddy,” you tried to pull out of his iron grasp to no avail, “I’m already having a shitty day and I don’t need you making it worse. The big dumb guy isn’t around, it’s just me unfortunately. And I recommend you let me go before I make you regret your decision.”

“You’re so funny,” he leaned closer so he was almost face to face with you. He smelled terrible and looked even worse; the worst realization of all was that he was a murderer…and you were alone with him, “you really think you could stop me all by yourself? So cute.”

He reached out and ran his hand along your jaw, instantly making you feel disgusting and gross. Your heart started beating rapidly and you willed yourself to regain your muster and strength. It should have been so easy to overpower him, but he was surprisingly strong. That was one of the worst things about dealing with other powered beings…someone always had the upper hand.

“Let me go,” you hissed through gritted teeth.

“Why don’t we make a deal?” he took your jaw harshly in his hand turned your face to his, “help me catch Miguel O’Hara and I’ll let you go.”

“Nope,” you might not have been in the Miguel fanclub at this point but you weren’t about to betray him or put anyone else at risk. You figured that the longer you were able to stall, it might give Miguel more time to get to you and take him. You’d never hear the end of it, but it was better than nothing, “sorry buddy.”

“Bitch!” he let go and pushed you back before striking you across the face, causing you to stumble and trip over your feet. You feel onto your backside with a groan before touching your stinging face, “it could have been so easy! We both want the same thing - to get rid of the Spider!”

“I don’t want to get rid of him,” you tried to scramble to your feet as he loomed over you but your hope was quickly starting to dissipate, “he-he’s fine! The only person I want to get rid of you is you!”

“Too bad,” he cackled before shrugging his shoulders, “I hate to break the news to you, but you’re not getting rid of me. I’ll be getting rid of you…and eventually that big idiot will come looking for you and then I’ll have him too. A two or one deal - can you imagine? What a dream!”

“Hate to break it to you,” your hands before getting scraped up as you tried to pull yourself out of his reach, “but he’s not going to come looking for me. He doesn’t care that much.”

“Don’t kid yourself,” you couldn’t hold back the scream that escaped your lips as he stepped on your ankle and crushed it under his boot, “you’re a pretty face, that’s enough for most men to come running. It’s almost a shame to kill you but-”

The next thing you heard was a sickening crack before the pressure on your ankle was gone. You opened your eyes and looked around the alley, only to find your would-be murderer on the ground and bleeding. A choked up sound escaped your lips as you looked up to find Miguel standing over you.

You prepared yourself for him to begin yelling but, to your immense surprise, it never came. Instead you watched dumbly as he bent down and scooped into your arms and stood back up with you clutched to his chest.

He studied you for a moment before tenderly wiping away the little bit of blood that had trickled down from the corner of your mouth. You had never realized that he could actually have such a gente touch.

For a few moments he walked in silence before letting a heavy sigh and shaking his head, “I don’t hate you. I never did.”

Your brow furrowed in surprise but you remained silent. Your head felt foggy and you weren’t sure you wanted to push anything just yet. All you wanted to do was go home and get some rest.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A few days had passed since the incident with Miguel and you felt well recovered, except for the faint bruising that remained on your face. Really, though, that was the least of your worries. Ever since then, you’d been trying your best to avoid Miguel, while continuing to be surprised that he hadn’t booted you from the team yet.

“Hey,” you froze at the sound of his voice and turned around to find Miguel standing at the edge of your cubicle space. You swallowed thickly before squeaking out a response that made you cringe internally, “can we talk?”

“Umm…yes?” you looked at him and waited for him to make the next move. He turned and motioned for you to follow him. It felt like some sort of walk of shame as you trailed after him like a puppy. He didn’t stop, ignoring the whispers and titters from the other Spider-People as he beelined for his office. You kept your gaze trained on your feet and almost ran into him when he suddenly stopped, “oof.”

“Sorry,” you’d never heard him apologize before. Odd. He closed the door behind and leaned against it, “listen, I think we need to clear some things up.”

“We do?”

“Mhmm,” this time he found it difficult to look in your eyes as you hopped up and sat at the edge of his desk, swinging your legs, “I just…I don’t want you to think that I hate you know or ever hated you. It’s never been like that.”

“Could have fooled me,” you shrugged slightly, already having made peace with his dislike of you.

“I know, I…fuck,” he ran a hand over his face in exasperation, “It was supposed to be easier this way.”

“What way?”

“If you hated me,” he finally managed to get out as you blinked at him owlishly, “then it would have made it easier for him to keep my distance.”

“But I don’t hate you,” you shook your head, “I don’t hate anyone…and I could never hate you.”

“Even now?” he chuckled harshly, “when you definitely should?”

“Even now,” you confirmed you heard his small exhale of relief, “now I just…I guess I’m just confused as to how you do feel about me.”

“When you left me and I couldn’t find you and then…when you’d been hurt…I thought…” he trailed off, clearly at a loss for words. You let his words sink in and tried to process the meaning behind him, “I didn’t know what I would do if anything had happened to you. All I could think about was beating that bastard to a bloody pulp.”

“Oh,” the gears were definitely turning as you came closer and closer to your conclusion. And then it hit you all at once and your entire face turned warm. You looked over at Miguel and could see that his cheeks were a darkened pink, “oh.”

“Umm…yeah,” he scratched at the back of his neck nervously before nodding slightly, “I just never know what to do or say. I-I’ve never been good with words. Keeping people at a distance makes things easier. If there’s no attachment then there’s no room or heartbreak.”

“I understand that,” you agreed softly, “but that’s no way to live.”

“I’m starting to see that,” he allowed himself to meet your eye and the two of you exchanged shy smiles, “so I guess I just wanted to say sorry.”

“Is that all you wanted to say?” you felt a little bolder now, nerves buzzing with everyone he had said and things that were left unspoken.

“No,” he agreed, “but it’s a good starting point, I think.”

“Yeah,” you nodded softly, “I think so too.”

“Cool,” he ran a hand through his hair nervously, “cool. Listen, I…want to do this right. So can I umm, do you want to-”

“Yes,” you slid off the desk and almost skipped over to him, “I’d love to.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive.”

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara one shot #spider man 2099 #oscar isaac #spider-man

352 notes · View notes

shawnxstyles · 2 years

Text

ten times faster

DATE: JULY 29, 2022

summary: as the gang hangs out at your place, peter and you get into an argument about if a guy knows a girl’s body more than her own. when you tell peter that you can come better alone than with him, he decides to prove you wrong.

words: 2.3k

song: A Kiss- the driver era <3

warnings: SMUT (f- receiving [nipple play, fingering] hair pulling, dirty talk?) language, way too much dialogue to deal with

note: this is a random thing i found in my notes and i actually had time to finish it?? i love smut, but let’s be honest, i’m not that good at writing it. but here’s this. frat!peter x female!reader

gif is not mine!

—

“i mean, i think the girl would know her own body the best, i’m just saying,” you stated, sipping on your cheap wine as you laid against the couch. you rested your hand on the arm and crossed your legs. you and your friends were having a night in, discussing topics that were anything but age appropriate.

“girls never get to finish anyway,” betty adds and ned looks at her with the most shocked and hurtful look known to man, “hey! that does not include me. i finish every time. if not more.”

we all gag and pretend to throw up while ned whispers a thanks, babe to betty behind it all. you roll your eyes, ready to move on when mr. thinks-he-knows-it-all-just-because-he-gets-good-grades steals the spotlight (clearly you have some frustrations with school and he does not help).

“i mean, i’ve never been with a girl who hasn’t finished,” peter arrogantly voices with a small smirk curling on his face. you didn’t even know girls slept with him (don’t lie, he’s mildly cute. even attractive at most. okay, he’s very attractive. better?) you almost didn’t say anything.

“what is that even supposed to mean?”

“it means the guy knows his girl’s body more than she knows her own,” he shrugs as if he has said the most simplistic thing in the world. peter tilts his beer bottle as he empties it. he makes an overly exaggerated ahh sound of relief as he downs the liquid. it makes you even more irritated.

“how does that even make sense?! just because you’ve had sex with a bunch of girls doesn’t mean you know their bodies. let alone, made them come,” you bit at him, sitting up in your seat. you were no longer at peace with your wine and the couch wasn’t as comfortable as it had been. even though he is one of the smartest people you know (but you would never admit that), sometimes, peter’s stupidity surprises you.

and to note, it was no doubt, blatantly obvious, and super clear— that peter was your least favorite in the group. you could bet he thought the same towards you too. you two were never really “friends”, but are somehow forced to be together every time if you want to see your actual friends. so that’s how mutual friends were created. don’t you love them?

you don’t. at least not this one.

“princess, you don’t need to be jealous of other girls. if you wanted me to help you out—”

“jealous? how conceited are you? you think i want to sleep with you so you can ‘help’ me? please, i know for a fact i can make myself finish ten times faster and stronger than you ever could,” and with that you snatched the bottle of wine and poured a large measurement into your glass. you chugged a good amount and while doing so, you saw peter’s infamous smirk taunting you from the corner of your eye. you set down your nearly empty glass and excused yourself to the bathroom.

“i love watching two people fight over something exhaustingly stupid. it’s entertaining,” mj says as she sips her tea because she was the driver for the night, “this is going to be very interesting.”

—

as the night comes to a close, you hug and wave off your friends. you say goodbye to mj, betty, and ned and realize peter wasn’t around. you close the front door with a confused look on your face. when you turn around to clean up the wine glasses, peter comes walking into the living room.

“they left, you know,” you say as you bend down to pick up all the glasses, wrappers, and bottles.

“i’m aware,” peter replies as he follows you into the kitchen. you dump all of the garbage in the trash can and wash your hands.

“then why are you still in my house?” you wit, drying off your hands. without looking, you hear peter’s footsteps getting closer to you in the small kitchen.

“i thought we could test your little theory,” he whispers just over your shoulder and it gives you an odd, unwanted sensation down your spine. you turn your head slightly towards him, so you can see him from the corner of your eye.

“which theory? the one that proves how big of a dick you are?” your chest gets tighter with close proximity, but you still have your wits with you. peter puts his hands on the counter, blocking you from leaving.

you hear him chuckle darkly behind you, which causes you to turn around fully.

“you know what i’m talking about.”

your tailbone is pushed against the edge of the tiled counter when he takes another step toward you. you didn’t even think it was possible to be this close to someone.

there was a heated feeling in your lower belly that you knew all too well, but it was a little different. it’s a lustful feeling, but somewhere inside of you knows that you shouldn’t do this. the wrongness of doing this just makes you want to do it more.

“i have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“really? well, let me show you.” he doesn’t wait until you take a deep breath, he just kisses you with hunger and lust. one of his hands from the counter lifts up to caress your neck roughly. you tug at the baby hairs on the back of his neck and you feel him groan in your mouth. one of his fingers gets caught in your hair and he snags it out, but you accidentally moan out.

“oh? you like that?” he releases from the kiss with a smirk, as you try to keep a straight face. he slips off his t-shirt quickly watching your brain rack.

“no—” he lifts you onto the counter and immediately goes back into kissing you with no hesitation. you absentmindedly feel up his body. you’ve never seen him without a shirt on and you would’ve never guessed he was this ripped. you know he saves people for a living, but c’mon on? he gets to be hot too?

what?

okay, you can’t even lie about that. peter IS dangerously attractive whether you hate him or not. it’s a scientific fact in society.

his fingers twists the ends of your shirt and you break the kiss to take it off. you don’t hesitate to get rid of your bra either as you quickly unhook it blindly. peter kisses down your neck harshly as you whimper, trying to keep your moans in. he tugs your hair, now knowing you like it and you can’t help but moan for him. you don’t want him to know how good he’s making you feel, especially when he has barely done anything.

you bit your lip as he kneads your right boob and sucks on your other one. peter sucks around your nipple, pulling and pinching the other one. he spends a good amount of time on your breasts, and if he did it any longer, you sadly might be able to come from just that.

“so i take that you’re a boob guy?” you yank him off of you by his hair. peter groans at the loss of control, so you let go of his hair.

“so you liked it?”

“i never said that—”

“but you never said you didn’t. imagine what it would be like for me to eat you out. may i?” his hand goes straight to the drawstrings on your sweatpants, but you don’t know what he was asking. was he asking if he would take off your sweatpants or eat you out? yes, all of the above is what you wanted to say. oh my god yes a million times yes also came to your head, but that sounds like an agreement to marriage, so maybe not.

“whatever floats your boat, captain,” is what you actually said and you’ve never wanted to hide under a blanket more. embarrassment flows through your veins. however, you stick with it because you can’t change what you said now.

he chuckles with a shake of his head as he slowly tugs your sweatpants down. once they’re off, he pushes your knees to spread your legs and he sees that wet patch of arousal on your panties. peter smirks and you swear you see his brown eyes darken.

“so i take that you’re a boob girl?” he kneads your inner thighs as you huff in frustration.

“shut up and do something,” you roll your eyes.

“aye aye, captain.”

before you could shout and cringe at him, peter’s hands finally go to rub your panties. you whimper as his thumb circles perfectly slow on your clit. you hold his shoulders for balance as you involuntarily move your hips to create faster friction. peter grabs your hips to stop your movements and you whine out.

“more,” you huff, getting wetter and wetter, but aren’t as close to finishing as you can be. he’s deliberately going slow, so you can be tormented.

“tell me what you want, y/n. i’ll probably give it to you,” peter smirks as you looks at you. he removes his hand from your hip to tilt your chin to face him. his eyes are dark and so beautiful it kind of hurts. how can someone so attractive be such a dick? you debate on telling him that you want everything. his mouth, his fingers, his dick. it’s all sounding pretty good right about now.

“dick,” you mumble at him because of his arrogant attitude.

“you want my dick?”

“i—no, i mean yes! but i want your fingers right now,” you squeeze your eyes shut at your neediness and stuttering words. you may be a confident and strong person, but when it comes to sex, you’re the queen at obeying.

“just say please and they’re yours.”

“ugh, you’re such an asshole,” you growl as he flicks your clit three times and you yelp. that little action made you much wetter and he can probably feel that. you are beyond turned on right now and you need him so bad.

“fine! please peter, just do something already!” you grip his shoulders out of irritation and he smiles before yanking your panties down your legs. he rubs you bare for a few moments before he slips two fingers straight into you. you instantly moan out (embarrassing loud), and you can practically feel his ego rising. peter takes his unused hand and pulls at your nipples again. that familiar heat in your belly becomes tighter and tighter as he strategically moves his fingers. peter curls his fingers and twists in a way that’s just so intoxicating and so good that it clouds your mind with lust. you clench around his fingers when he touches a spot deep inside of you.

“you’re so wet. are you going to cum? hmm?” as he talks, his thumb brushes your clit again and you moan again, not trying to hold it back this time.

“peter yes, yes!”

“am i going to make you cum ten times faster and stronger than you can?”

“try me.”

taking the challenge, peter rubs your clit again, while you involuntary open your legs wider, letting him access you deeper. he lowers his head so he’s closer to your ear.

“c’mon love, i know you want to.”

his raspy voice makes you clench around him again and the tightening in your belly finally releases. peter sloppily kisses your neck as you come down from your high.

“good girl,” his deep, sensual voice almost makes you want to do it again. actually, everything he did makes you want to do it again. peter rubs you slowly, drawing your orgasm to a close. he rips off some nearby paper towels and wipes the mess you made. or he made, you should say.

when you go to talk, your voice comes out squeaky, so you clear your throat and try again.

“i still think i can cum faster alone, just so you know,” peter throws the towels in the garbage. you lightly leap off the counter and nearly fall to the ground, but you survive with a little balancing. you bend down to pick up your panties, but they’re gone. you swear you just saw them right there.

“peter—” he turns around with a smirk and your panties twisted around his finger. you gasp, spinning around and grabbing his shirt and throwing it on. you eye him heavily.

“give them back, you dick.”

“or what?”

“or i’m not giving you your shirt back,” you scoff as you cross your arms. his shirt was a bit big for you. meaning, it went down to your mid thighs.

“oh please, keep it. it looks better on you anyway,” he smirks again, looking you up and down and you punch him in the chest. he never has a different expression on his face; just smirking, smirking, and more smirking. “but seriously, i’m keeping these.”

“but why? i really like those ones, asshat! oh my gosh, you probably collect them. you’re a panty collector! i knew you were a weirdo, but jeez, peter,” he coughs looking down, trying to add a comment to your crazy assumption.

“um no. i need to keep these, so when i start telling mj, ned, and betty that i made you cum ten times faster and stronger than you can yourself, i’ll have some proof,” peter winks and starts to walk away. you pinch your face together.

“what are you talking about? you’ll never tell them about this because it never happened! got that?” you shout as he goes across the house. why is he walking around my house?

“whatever floats your boat, captain!”

oh fuck. you’re never living this down.

—

thanks for reading!! 😊

#shawnxstyles #peter parker x reader #peter parker #tom holland spiderman #spiderman #peter parker au #peter parker smut #tom holland smut #peter parker fanfics #peter parker x you

2K notes · View notes

webslingingslasher · 2 years

Text

Do you remember?

Fun fact, I have been writing this piece off and on for about a year now. The fact I think it's finally done and ready to be shared is insane.

Pairing: MCU! Peter Parker X Stark!Reader

Genre: Fluffy, some angst.

Word Count: 6K

Summary: You told Peter you love him, he's not sure you understand what you said. You're acting like you didn't know what you said. Do you remember what you said?

Warnings: mentions of sex while intoxicated, not hammered but tipsy. no assult here baby, not on my page! also, not really stark! reader, her dad is Tony and thats it.

Peter loved and hated working with Tony alone.

Tony was the best mentor Peter could’ve dreamed of but ever since he started dating you time alone with Tony always felt off. Peter was his protege but when he became your boyfriend Tony wanted to test him further, that because his daughter had feelings for him, it was his fault. Not that he’s complaining because thank god you did but Tony didn’t have to ask questions about your relationship and back Peter in a corner with certain questions and take pride when he falters.

So when Tony told him about the sudden three day trip and they would have to do an entire suit reset and build it made him want to stomp in the lab with lead filled boots. To make matters worse he knew it would be an all night thing and you weren’t going to be around.

Tony was on one side of the lab at his own station working on the new Spider-Man suit upgrade hunched over a table, he turned every so often and would grunt at Peter looking for his approval. Peter sat on the opposite side of the lab at his own station tinkering with his web shooters, he was helping Tony update the technology with each suit upgrade; the suit got taser webs so did his shooters.

It was nearing midnight, he had been hiding in the lab for half the day with Tony. He had come over after a quick after school patrol knowing he wouldn’t be able to go out later that night. Peter showed up with a giant Delmar’s sub, the kind he could only get with a hookup. He had splurged knowing it would most likely be the last time he saw you this evening. His half of the sub had extra pickles and yours had onion, he did surrender to your request of keeping it unsmooshed. One time you gave into his claims of it being the superior way to have a sub but gagged when you told him that you “hate to break his spirits but that’s sog heaven.”

You, on the other hand, had plans with MJ to go to a small bar to watch a band play tonight. Not your style but the headliner was MJ’s favorite and she had no one else to ask. Ned promised he would have gone but bars downtown gross him out. (When MJ pointed out he had never been to a bar downtown he blinked at her and said “yeah, because they’re gross”)

When 9:30 rolled around you made your way into the lab to say goodbye to your boys. Adorned in a mid length dress to help you look a bit older than what you were, you paired it with some small heels.

“Bye Bye, I'll miss you.” You walked to your boyfriend, when he looked up from the screwdriver and disc in his hand, eyebrows furrowed, obviously not happy with his task being more frustrating than he had hoped, had smiled when he saw your face.

“Bye Bye, I’ll miss you more.” He leant up and puckered his lips and you met his mouth quickly. “Call me if you need me,” he mumbled when he pulled away, pressing two more pecks to your sticky lips.

“Bye father, love you.” You called behind your shoulder already walking towards the glass door.

“Bye daughter, be safe.” Tony shot back, not even looking up.

Then called out to you, “Heels in a bar isn’t a good idea.”

Peter smiled and watched you pout, you held a foot out and wiggled an ankle before leaving the room, definitely on your way to change into actual shoes.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Then sometime around 11:40 Peter's phone rang, your contact photo popping up across his screen. A small smile involuntarily creeping unto his face

“It hasn't even been two hours yet!” He laughed into the phone, “Peter? It's MJ.” She didn’t laugh at his joke, his heart already speeding up. “Where’s y/n? Is she okay?” His response was quick, Tony looking around his shoulder at the kid sitting straight in the office chair.

“Yeah, sh-“ MJ couldn't even answer his question before he heard a loud voice in the background, “Is that Peter? Tell him I miss him! Where is he? Peter, where are you?” MJ pulled the phone from her ear slightly “Hold on, I'm asking him.”

“Peter!” he heard your voice cut back in whining.

“Y/N!” MJ hissed at you so you would be silenced for a moment.

“Is she-“ Peter began to form the question, MJ beating him to the punch

“Drunk? Yes. Very.” She turned to make sure you were still next to her, you twisted from side to side playing with a stand of hair mumbling to the cover song that a band was blasting through the bar rattling both of your chests.

“Peter, some men kept buying me drinks and wouldn’t take no as an answer so I need you to come save me.” You shot into the phone, tired and annoyed you just wanted your boyfriend with you.

“She kept asking for you. I gave it an hour before I called, she’s pretty drunk.” She sighed into the phone a little disappointed she wouldn’t see the last performance.

“I'll be there in 10 minutes. Wait outside if it’s safe.” He instructed MJ before hanging up and standing on his feet.

He looked at his mentor and girlfriend's dad who was already staring at him. “Y/N got drunk at the bar and wants me to come get her.” He filled Tony in so he wouldn’t panic like Peter had.

“Like father, like daughter.” He chuckled before turning back around to get the update time on the suit and sighed at the estimated time.

“I'm going to get her and help her to bed then we can finish, okay Mr Stark?” Peter asked his boss.

“Get her home in one piece.” He waved him off.

------------------------------------------------------------

“How long is ten minutes?” You asked MJ.

You were sitting outside the small bar, vines pressing into your backs where they were growing up the wall, dust settling into your bare thighs.

“Ten minutes”. She quickly replied

“Oh. Okay.” You swept your hand over some dirt in the concrete. You were silent for less than ten seconds, “It hasn’t been ten minutes?” You scrunch your face.

“It’s been-“ She pauses to look at your phone, “Seven minutes.” You nod.

“You know one of the things I love about Peter is that he’s very punctual.” You gave MJ a knowing look, “when he actually shows up I mean.” She nodded knowing what you meant.

“He's still a really good boyfriend though.” You begin plucking weeds growing between the concrete cracks.

“I miss Peter, has it been ten minutes?” You went to look at MJ once more when you heard

“I missed you too, and it’s been nine minutes.” You gasped at the boy in front of you, surprised as if you weren't aware he’d be showing up.

You looked at MJ next to you and slapped her arm, “See! what did I tell you, punctual!”

You raised your hands palm up gripping at Peter so he could help pull you up. Once you were standing he pulled you into his side tightly placing you under an arm so you wouldn’t wobble when he offered his hand to MJ.

Before all three of you could walk away from the bar you looked at Peter “I missed you. Can I have a kiss now please?” you already had your mouth in his face, not really giving him a choice but he laughed anyway and gave you three quick kisses.

You pulled back looking at your boyfriend, a lust driven haze swallowed your eyes “Can we have sex when we get home?” You asked. Peter choked on his air and MJ busted out laughing, your eyes swept from MJ to Peter not understanding the joke until Peter said “not in front of our friends.”

Peter gave MJ the car to get home and walked you the shortest distance home, figuring the walk would help sober you up.

“And then I told him I was only a baby and he was still buying me drinks! I was okay with one or two but then he wouldn’t stop telling me to drink and I was wasting alcohol and then I got really scared.” You were explaining the night to Peter, talking with your hands, watching your face shift into a million emotions.

“Is that when MJ called me?” Peter continued to learn the story

You nodded frantically, “Yes. Thank you for saving me.” You smiled at him before interlocking your hands and swinging them.

“I love dating Peter, don't get me wrong but I like when I get to date Spider-Man too.”

“Can I piggyback?” You huffed in the middle of the street, annoyed with walking.

Peter knelt down in front of you and hooked his hand around your knees to help push you around his back, the perks to a super strength boyfriend- they can carry you for miles.

Resting a chin on his shoulder you had your arms wrapped around his neck one hand loosely pointing at objects and giving them a life story, “and that lamp post Petey, imagine the things it’s seen. Imagine how long it’s been there!”

Talking to him about the things you saw on the way home from “way up here!” and a small game of i-spy you kept losing because you kept forgetting what color Peter said he saw.

“Can we have sex?” You whispered in his ear, cautious to look around you to avoid the embarrassment he had the first time you asked.

“Let me get you home first and ready for bed.” He replied sternly before lifting you higher on his back.

“Okay!” You took that as a win, and settled back into his shoulder.

----------------------------------------------------------

“Are you hungry?” Were the first words Peter asked when you walked into the kitchen.

“Oh my god, I was just about to say I was starving.” Your eyes widened at him, “We are seriously made for eachother.” You clapped him on the chest before asking him for a bowl of cereal.

Two bowls of Coco Pops later, Peter had finally gotten you upstairs in your room and had helped you undress.

“What pajamas do you want?” He stood in your closet waiting for you to tell him what shirt.

“Yours!” You yipped back.

“Mine what?” He looked down at himself, he was wearing a normal outfit. Jeans, shirt, hoodie.

“Shirt.” You pointed at his shirt, and so did he. “The one I'm wearing?” His girlfriend nodded her head enthusiastically, taking her bra off as he shrugged his shoulders and gave her what she wanted.

“Wash your face, brush your teeth.” He instructed her next. He watched her stand in the mirror for a minute, “do you need any help?” she shook her head.

“I'm going to go update your dad, I’ll be right back okay?” He waited for an answer before leaving, zipping his hoodie over his bare skin.

----------------------------------------------------------

“Y/N‘s okay.” Peter knocked on the glass next to him so he wouldn’t sneak up on Tony.

“Good, is she in bed?” He was ready to finish for the night, they were set back a good thirty minutes to an hour now.

He shook his head, “She’s brushing her teeth and wants me to stay with her until she falls asleep. It won’t be long though.” He promises.

“Take care of her.” The elder Stark waved him off once more.

------------------------------------------------------------

“Okay I read this at least four times in the mirror,” you turned when you saw your boyfriend reappear behind you. “And I still don’t understand what it means.” You were referencing the shirt you were in. It had a science joke on it, or maybe math.

“It says find x, and the x is circled.”

“oooooh,” You dragged out. “I knew that.” You quickly added.

You stepped in front of him and gave him a hug, holding on, you looked up “teeth brushed, face washed, can we have sex now?”

Peter brushed some hair from your face, “are you okay?” He asked quietly.

“Are you asking if I'm sober?” You kissed his palm.

“What's the last ten letters of the alphabet backwards?” Peter asked, holding your hand with one and scratching down your back with another.

“z,y,x,w,v,u,t,s,r,q” You replied

“Who won the 2016 presidential election?”

“Don’t make me say it.” You bit back.

Peter muffled a laugh, “How many fingers am I holding up?” He lifted his hand in a peace sign, you squint your eyes and concentrated, “Twelve.”

“Seems sober to me.” He told you.

“Sex time?” You looked up at him.

“Sex time.” He deadpanned.

“Fuck yes! You’re the best boyfriend ever. I love you.” You squealed and pressed a fast kiss to his mouth before you hopped into your bed, fixing the pillows.

Peter stood solid in the ground. He wasn’t sure if you were so sober now, his heart was suddenly red hot and he felt like he needed to lay down. Those words had never come from your mouth before and you shot them with such ease it almost unsettled him.

He loves you. He knows that for certain, he just didn’t know you did. And he’s not even sure you understand what you just said because his ears are ringing and you're humming on your bed kicking your feet.

“Y/N?” he cautions your name, before he goes forward with the kisses and coos he wants to be sure they’re on the same page

“Peter!” You call back.

“Are you gonna get me naked or am I gonna get me naked?” You asked him before he was able to say anything more to you.

Peter started to unzip his hoodie, he figured if she was playing dumb so would he.

Drunk words sober thoughts rant in the back of his head but he pushed that to the back of his mind. He could analyze this another day, as of right now his beautiful tipsy girlfriend was begging him for sex and he wasn’t going to let her down.

Walking his way towards you he bent down to kiss you before getting on top of you, not missing the loud squeal you produced when he ran his hands under the shirt you were wearing preparing to take it off.

He pulled back slightly looking down at your wide eyes sparkling in the moonlight creeping between the cracks in the blinds.

Your cheeks flushed and a cheek hurting smile adored your face, he’s never loved you more in this moment but instead of filling you in on his thoughts he whispered a “Shhh..” before placing his lips on yours delicately.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Watching you sleep on Peter's chest has never felt like this before.

He’s always thought you were beautiful, and he always thought he loved you but having your weight on him, soft snores coming from your mouth while his hands ran down your naked back he felt different.

When you told him you loved him, intentional or not, something changed. He felt it immediately.

Peter had always been caring and would stop at nothing to keep you safe but after tonight the feeling deepened. It went from keeping you safe to a sense of protection, he felt like it was his personal duty to harm whatever came in your path.

He moved a piece of hair from your face as it dawned on him, he told himself “I would kill for her.” He felt his heart get loud in his chest and ears and felt his feet clam up, he hadn’t felt like this before.

It’s never been so black and white, he knew at that moment had everyone ever tried to hurt you he would do anything in his power possible to keep you safe and protected.

And suddenly he had to leave. He didn’t like that feeling. He's a good guy, he’s the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, he keeps the city safe. So the idea of him being so okay with hurting anyone who ever tries to touch you scares him.

He was thinking like a villain; heros will protect the many at the cost of one but villains protect one at the cost of many, and he would destroy New York for you.

Gently removing himself from the bed he slowly gets dressed before heading back to the lab with your dad to finish the nightly task before the early morning.

Sliding back into the lab he threw himself down into the chair focused on his web shooters.

“Are you okay?” Tony asked the protege already sensing something was off, standing to his full height and turning to Peter directly.

Peter didn’t look up but responded, “She said she loves me”

Tony's eyebrows went up, “Did you say it back?”

“No. I don't even think she realized she said it.” He twisted the screwdriver in his hand.

“Is that why you're upset?” Tony asked back, arms crossed over his shoulders.

“No.” Peter shook his head, he didn’t want to have this conversation with his girlfriend's dad but seeing as he was also a superhero he was probably one of the only people that could truly understand it.

“She was laying on top of me just sleeping, and this feeling came over me and sent me into a panic. I always thought I would protect my friends and May the best I could but just seeing her tonight I realized that I would die for her.” He paused, “I would kill for her.” Peter finally looked up and locked eyes with his mentor and girlfriends father hoping he would understand

He nodded, letting him continue “I've never felt that way before. I feel responsible for keeping my city safe but I've never felt responsible for another person before.”

“And it’s fucking terrifying.” He let out in a breath, his chest already feeling lighter. “I really love her, Mr. Stark.” His eyes started to sting, whether it was from tears or exhaustion he wasn’t sure.

Tony nodded his head before coming closer and sitting across the bench from him.

“When Y/N was born, after I held her for the first time I told everyone I was going downstairs for coffee but I actually went into the garden and just cried because I had never had a feeling like that before in my life.” He spoke softly but sincerely.

“When Y/N told me how much she had liked you before she even told you I immediately felt a pressure coming off of me, because I knew no matter what she was always going to be safe and cared for with you.”

“It’s scary to feel so strongly about someone else but seeing it recipucated makes it all worth it, and super powers or not Y/N would die for you too. Not that you’d ever let her.” He laughed at the end, but meant every word. His daughter was one of the strongest people he knew.

Peter smiled at that.

“I know.”

Tony slapped his hand on the table, “Now how about you say we finish this up and get a few hours of sleep in before the trip tomorrow?”

-----------------------------------------------------------

About an hour later you woke up, groggy with a pounding headache and an empty bed. Pulling yourself to the bathroom to pee, you put Peter's shirt back on and some slippers before making your way to the lab.

Walking in Peter's head looked up at you before clicking his tongue at you, “What are you doing up?” he joked.

“What are you not doing in bed with me?” You asked back before sitting down on his lap, your head falling into his neck.

He wrapped his arm around you holding his web shooter in one and screwdriver in the other still trying to piece them back together.

“How much longer?” You asked huffing at the fluorescent lighting.

“Maybe 10 minutes.” Peter replied softly knowing you're still on the brink of sleep.

“I have a really bad headache.” He could feel you frowning in his neck.

Pausing his hand movements he pulled you tighter “Do you want me to get you some medicine?”

You nodded but tightened your hold on him when he went to stand up, “you can finish first, I’ll just sleep here.” You snuggled deeper into him finally finding the perfect position that blocked all the lights out.

Peter went back to working and sure enough felt your body get heavier and a bit more loose as you actually dropped back to sleep.

Ten minutes ended up being almost twenty five but once he was done and Tony left the lab with a “Goodnight, be ready by 7:15,” He had started to run his hand down your back trying to slowly wake you back up.

“Let's go to bed, okay?” He whispered in your ear.

Still more than half asleep, you nodded but kept your eyes closed and pressed yourself to Peter so he would keep you balanced while he walked you to your room.

Stopping at the kitchen to get you a water bottle and some pills for your headache and then finally back to your room to cuddle for the night.

When you finally laid back into bed with him you shoved your face into his bare chest, your legs intertwined with his, you grabbed onto his hair with one hand too tired to scratch at it. He nudged you anyways and you started to run your fingers through his curls and he gave a contempt sigh, you shuffled your hips closer to his and pressed around his body tighter.

You broke the quiet moment with a whisper.

“You’re not allowed to leave.”

Peter laid his head on top of yours.

“You know what I hate about Spider-Man?”

No. He never talks bad about his alter ego, always going on about responsibilities and stopping bad things from happening, he has never complained or ragged on him. You shook your head into his chest, your hand still reached over your head, still dragging fingers through his own.

“I hate we’re two people in the same body. Sometimes when I take off the suit I wish I was actually taking it off. Like, I lost all responsibilities and I was just Peter Parker. A normal 18 year old, about to graduate having a dope ass intern gig and dating Tony Stark’s daughter and not sharing that with Spider-Man. I wish it was a switch I could turn on and off, and when I'm with you, I really hate having to leave to go be, him.”

He sighed and you tugged at his hair to show you were listening and waiting for more.

“Sometimes, it just feels,” Peter stopped when his voice cracked. You knew that was a warning sign from Peter, he was about to cry. He laughed to hide a sob, he stayed quiet. You stayed on his chest, you turned your mouth in to press three small kisses, “Feels like what?” You whispered against his skin.

He shook his head, if he stayed silent one more time you knew he was already crying but trying to hide it. “Petey?” Your head bounced from his chest when he let out a sob, his breathing getting loud, you sat up to face him watching him hold a hand over his mouth as another one was on his chest trying to ground his breaths. Tears were flowing down his cheeks, he choked out another sob on his hand, you tried to pull his head to your chest but he pushed you away.

"It just feels unfair."

You’ve only seen him this bad once before, it was after a mental breakdown, similar to this one. It was just a combination of everything happening at once.

He and you had a fight, May was mad about something, he was getting his ass beat nightly and couldn’t even catch the guy and couldn’t get Tony to help because he pissed off his girlfriend, and therefore Tony was pissed at Peter.

And he was trying to study for the upcoming SAT while trying not to think of you being mad at him and how he was going to fix that, while also thinking about that guy still kicking his ass and his suit tech failing after various beatings but he was banned from the tower until he made up with Y/N, per word of her father.

And, trying not to think about May being pissed about something still, and not remembering what it was but it was probably a big fuck up on his end and reached his breaking point while in this spiral May came through his door and asked him “Why haven’t you taken the trash out? Or brought the laundry down? Or wash the dishes? Or anything I asked you?” Her tone was bitter, she sure was pissed.

Then Peter turned his head to his desk, saw his phone resting on his PSAT workbook unlocked with your messages open but with nothing new. He snapped the pencil in his hand and sobbed. He cried so hard and suddenly May ran to him to grab him from dropping to the floor, “Peter?” He wouldn’t stop, he was babbling between not being able to breathe, his sobs were full of chokes and coughs.

“Sorry-” “Tired” “Y/N” “Fight” “Banned” “Stressed” “Sacred” Were bits and pieces of the words May heard from him, sorry was a favorite he was using on loop. “Peter, what can I do? You need to calm down.” She was rubbing at his chest like she did when he was a baby, it would always calm him down. Sometimes she would catch you doing the same thing, “Y/N” He nearly screamed it with his cry, “I can call her, I can call her,” May fumbled for her phone in her pocket.

You looked at your phone light up with May’s contact photo, your brows furrowed. She never calls you. Texts, sure. But Calls? No. You almost thought it was Peter but you didn’t block his number or anything so there was no reason.

“Hello?”

She heard cries and heaving breathing in the background

“Y/N, you need to come over right now.”

May was quick to the point. You heard a chorus of ‘Sorry’ in the background and coughing and sniffles.

“Is he okay?”

“No.”

Your heart hurts. You’ve never heard anything like this from him.

“I’m on my way. Can he hold the phone?”

You heard May ask the question, a shuffling sound played, the trading of hands.

You knew Peter was on the phone, the sobs ceased but he still couldn’t catch his breath, you heard sharp quick intakes every few seconds, no doubt tears still falling down his face.

“Peter? Petey, listen to me. I’m on my way to come see you, okay? I need you to catch your breath, can you do that? I’m coming, Peter. I promise.”

“M’ Sorry.” His voice was squeaky, he was forcing the words out.

“I’m not mad. I’m not mad I promise. I just miss you and want you to be okay. I’m on my way right now.”

“Okay.”

“Okay? I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

He pushed the phone back to May and she ended the call. His crying stopped, his breathing slowed. He was calm for a couple minutes. Then he remembered the fight, again. And about the SAT’s and how he’s still not done with that guy from three nights ago and started all over again.

You remember how broken he looked then, how stress piled on him and crushed him entirely. His plate was so overloaded it cracked the glass. You sat next to him on the floor and straddled his hips, you pressed yourself to him and repeated ‘I’m here’ over and over.

But tonight he was rejecting your help.

“It just feels so unfair”

He felt so shameful using these words. It was his secret, he always thought about it but there was nothing he could change about it so why complain?

“It is unfair, Pete.”

“It’s really unfair,” You added. “It really sucks you have to miss out on things in your life to do things in another life you didn’t ask for. It’s actually kind of shitty, I don’t know how you don’t complain more.” You were honest but you got a laugh from Peter and kept going, you were slowing his brain.

“Seriously, babe. Could you imagine if I had powers? Do you know how much I would drag on about it? ‘Oh my god, I had to, like, save a child today. Ugh,’ Or, i’d be like, ‘bro they asked me to hold a ferry together, ME!’” You smiled at Peter’s face brightening up. “I would never shut up about it. You’re braver than the marines for never talking shit on the web man.”

“Web man?” He gave a guttural laugh

“You’re a good person and you don’t deserve half the shit life throws at you.”

“What’s the other half of shit I do deserve?”

“Me.”

Peter sighed and laid on you this time. He kissed your temple, they didn’t need to say anything more. He was soaking up this moment, in just five hours he would be up and on a quinjet to a top secret location he would find out on the way, and be missing your warmth for three days. He would normally tell you he would never deserve you but he let you win tonight.

“Good night, baby.”

“Good night, Petey.”

Peter woke to Tony pushing on his shoulder, “Get up kid, let’s go.” He lifted his head from his girlfriend's shoulder and turned towards Tony and gave him a death glare.

He removed himself from the bed with a groan when Tony left the room. Peter watched your body lay unmoving and moved around the room silently collecting his things. He pulled on his suit and folded up his clothes on the floor and grabbed his phone and the small bag he would be taking with him on the trip.

He moved to your side of the bed, you were still squished in as if Peter’s weight was still resting on you, soft snores billowed from your mouth, hair combed around your face and he moved his hand across your forehead to clear it. When he moved his hand across your face you lent into it, a subconscious movement that had you leaning into his touch. He sighed and felt upset to be leaving, it would only be two nights away, he could deal with that.

“Hey baby?” He lent down to kiss across your face, trying to wake you to say goodbye always hurt him.

You whined and pressed your cheek further into the pillow. Peter kissed the cheek facing him a few times before he tried again.

“Baby, I’m leaving. Give me a kiss before I go.”

Your eyes opened for a moment seeing your boyfriend sitting over you, his red and blue suit contoured to his body. It was too early for him to be Spider-Man.

“It’s too early for Spidey.”

“I know. It’s a good thing he can sleep on the plane.”

You opened your eyes again, awake for now. You studied his face, he looked okay.

“I thought we said you were staying home.”

“Next time,” he smiled.

He would’ve added a ‘promise’ to it but he wouldn’t make a promise to something he knew he couldn’t keep.

You make a ‘psh’ sound, “Yeah, right.”

“Two minutes, Underoos.” Tony’s voice belted from the hallway.

“C’mon. One kiss, and I’ll be back before you miss me.”

You leaned up to kiss him. It was a soft kiss, a goodbye kiss, an I’ll miss you kiss, an be safe, I need you kiss.

He pulled away and turned to leave when you called from the bed,

“I love you, Peter. Be safe.”

His head never whipped around so quickly, his face with a smile you’ve never seen before.

“You remember!”

He wanted to tell you those words last night so badly but was terrified you said it in a moment of recklessness and wanted to make sure they counted when he said them.

He jumped full force onto the bed barely catching himself before he flattened you. He was pressing kisses all over your face while you were giggling trying to push him off, “I love you, I love you, I love you,” was thrown with each kiss to a new spot.

“Of course I remember! I love you and I want you to know it.”

“I love you too, and I want you to know it.”

Tony interrupted the moment,

“Now. Spider.”

He nodded at you, “Be careful when I’m gone Y/N. You need either one of us just call, we’ll be around. I’ll see you in three days, okay?”

“Okay. Bye dad. I love you, be safe.”

Tony looked to Peter for him to follow him out of the room.

“I love you Petey.”

“I love you too.”

#peter parker blurb #peter parker smut #peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader #peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker angst #peter parker x stark!daughter #peter parker imagine #peter parker mcu #peter parker #my writing

1K notes · View notes

indestructibleheart · 6 days

Text

I was tagged by the lovely @myheartalivewrites, @kiwiana-writes, and @cha-melodius this week.

And I actually have seven+ sentences? In this economy? I know. I can't believe it either. MJ is working on A Thing and discussing that with him got me opening up my Doctor Who AU doc again... and this scene spilled onto my phone at 8AM this morning for no reason.

Here's just a few more than seven:

“You haven’t just met tonight, darlings.” Pez pauses. “Well, technically, you did—but tonight isn’t the first tonight you’ve had. Based on the time energy wafting off you, I’d venture you’ve had quite a few.” “Quite a few…” “Hundreds,” Pez says. “Quite a few hundreds, I’d say.” Alex wants to argue. He wants to say that’s impossible; he met Henry less than an hour ago. Except, when he looks into those vivid blue eyes, he knows—like a word on the tip of his tongue, a memory that he can’t quite place, an itch at the base of his skull. He can see it: the peeling corner of the wallpaper. All he needs to do is pull.

Tagging some lovelies under the cut. If you have not been tagged and you want to be, consider this your tag!

@anchoredarchangel, @barbiediaz @cha-melodius, @cricketnationrise, @firenati0n,

@guillermosfamiliar, @hgejfmw-hgejhsf, @hippolotamus, @inexplicablymine, @itsmaybitheway, @jettestar,

@junebugclaremontdiaz, @lizzie-bennetdarcy, @missgeevious, @mulderscully, @ninzied,

@nontoxic-writes, @notspecialbabe

@priincebutt, @rmd-writes, @rosedavid, @three-drink-amy, @treluna4,

@vanillahigh00, @welcometololaland

@orchidscript, @ships-to-sail, @stereopticons

#m:wip #series: aotash?

53 notes · View notes

jhilsara · 2 months

Text

I Can See You

Pt. 1/ Pt. 2/ Pt. 3/ Pt. 4/ Pt. 5/pt. 6/Pt. 7/Pt. 8/Pt. 9/ Pt. 10/

Pt. 11/ Pt.12/Pt.13/Pt. 14/Pt.15/Pt.16/Pt.17/END

Mariana Jimenez-Watson or MJ works in a normal pub living life paycheck to paycheck. Nothing exciting happens to her except the occasional drunk getting thrown out. She's 24 working away and finds a wrench thrown into her very boring life. His name is Hobie and she thinks maybe, a little excitement isn't awful. In fact she might start to crave some change for once.

Small moments of Hobie meeting his world's MJ. AKA I made an MJ variant and I think she's neat.

Characters are completely aged up and this takes place after what will happen in beyond the spiderverse. I just made a little MJ variant and I think she's neat. I've been writing standalone scenes of her life after meeting Hobie and my friends really liked it so I thought I'd polish it up a little and post it. Nothing serious just some silly fun. (also I'm sorry I'm just not a y/n person, I just want to make characters who are developed and can have their own distinct personalities.) My MJ may not be for everyone but I hope you give her a shot.

Can also be read on Ao3 X

Chapter 1

She’s wiping off the counter and looking over at the small dodgy stage the pub has in the corner. She’s surprised the thing hasn’t collapsed in on itself. It has a couple of the instruments set up already for the band tonight. She feels someone bump her hip and she looks over to see her coworker raising a brow at her.

“Why don’t you wrap up early? You’re meeting your friends, right?” Andy asks her smiling.

MJ shrugs, “It ends in like fifteen and the band doesn’t start for another twenty. It’s fine, I don’t even think they've walked in yet.”

“Go on, grab a good spot at the front. I got it back here.” Andy encourages.

MJ rolls her eyes and keeps cleaning, “No seriously. I don’t even know who this band is. My friends want to see them. I’ll wrap it up in ten and look for them. I need to change out of these clothes anyway.”

“Whatever, you know half of the girls in here are already buzzin’. They’ve been drinking for the past hour looking for a shot of courage.” Andy says laughing.

MJ nudges her letting some giggles out too, “Stop, Andy! Leave them alone, they’re barely old enough to get in. They just want to see some hot musicians.”

“Who’s gonna tell them that most of the musicians are indeed, not hot, when they do small pub shows like us?” Andy says starting to pop open a beer for a customer.

“Oh, come off it, apparently this band does everything and anything. Good too, at least my friends say.” MJ says handing Andy another beer for the same group.

“You better clock out, you’ll miss your window to not be trapped back here.” Andy tells her looking at the clock.

“Oh shit, thanks!” MJ quickly dodges around the bar to get to the back so she can grab her bag and change.

She rushes into the bathroom and quickly changes into something a little cuter than her pub shirt and black slacks.

She pulls her rosy pink slip dress out and easily slides it on. Shoving her other clothes into her backpack. She adjusts her necklaces and looks into the mirror, checking to make sure her hair’s still passible. She adjusts the twin buns but just shrugs a minute later. It’s a punk show it doesn’t matter if she looks nice. She checks to make sure nothings on her and makes her way back out.

She throws her bag back where her other belongings are and wades through a decent sized crowd. She can’t find her friends but does make her way to the front. She checks her phone and sees that her friends had texted and canceled coming last minute. She groans in irritation, and turns to try and leave but the crowd has gotten thicker and she’s stuck. She’s jostled into someone who grabs her waist and she whips her head around smacking the hands.

“Hands off!” she growls looking up at the man. He throws his hands up but his grin is slimey. MJ keeps her glare.

“You bumped into me sweetie.” He chuckles.

She rolls her eyes, “Doesn’t mean you get handsy with me.” She mutters turning back to the stage.

She sees her coworker Lars come out to push the crowd back, she feels a little better knowing she has an easy escape if she needs to. He settles in the corner of the stage, watching the crowd. Within a few seconds the band comes out and she settles a bit. She might as well enjoy the show.

She feels someone sidle up to her side, pressing into her, and she turns her head to see the same man from before smiling at her.

“Back up. I don’t play this game.” She hisses out shoving him off of her.

“C’mon, not a big deal, it’s a massive crowd in here. It’s tight is all.” He says slurring his words.

MJ puffs her cheeks in irritation and points her finger into his chest, “Do not fucking touch me again.” She flashes her eyes over to Lars and he nods his head, acknowledging her.

The guy takes a step back but is still looking at her in a predatory way that makes her skin crawl. She turns to the stage to try and pay attention to the band.

The music’s loud, booming, and it has her moshing with a small group near the front. She’s having a blast for the first few songs, then she feels it.

The guy that’s next to her starts to grab her bum. She turns around and slaps the guy across the face, “I said to not fucking touch me!” She shouts at him. The music’s too loud, the lights are in her eyes, and her bodies hot with rage and adrenaline. She turns to try and spot Lars but the man grabs her by the arm tightly, pulling her closer.

“C’mon I know a slag like you when I see one,” He starts to say, mouth too close to her face so she can smell how intoxicated he is.

She reels back her free arm, hand curled into a fist, but before she can deck the drunk someone else does.

She sees combat boots fly by and her eyes widen as she sees the guitarist drop kick the guy who’s grabbing her.

Her jaw falls open in shock as the man lands perfectly fine in front of her. His guitar strapped to his back is all she sees as he stands between her and the man he just sent to the floor. She for the first time in a while, is stunned speechless.

“Mate, I don’t know who raised ya, but we don’t touch people without consent at my shows.” The guitarist says, voice deep and his face hard as he glares at the man on the ground.

The man tries to crawl off the ground, the crowd around them parting to see what’s happening.

“She’s with me man! What’s your problem?” the man tries to defend pointing at her.

Her anger continues to boil and she opens her mouth to defend herself but the guitarist responds first.

He nudges his head back to her and gives a bitter laugh, “Ya need a better lie cause she’s with me.” He tells him.

She shuts her mouth, looking at him like he’s mad for only a second. She most certainly is not with him but she sure as hell will act like it. She doesn’t want to spend the rest of the night with some creep touching her.

Her eyes flash to the other guy who’s face pales, “Sorry, sorry!” He throws his hands up in defense laughing, “Didn’t know she was yours!”

The guitarist shakes his head and crosses his arms tsking at the man. “Wooooooooow,” he drags out exaggeratedly. “She doesn’t belong to anyone.” He says, and gives a small chuckle.

The other guy is looking at him, a little in fear, as he tries to laugh along with him. The guitarist quickly stops chuckling and throws a quick but hard punch to the creep’s face.

“Apologize to her.” The guitarist demands voice harsh and cold.

The man’s holding his bruising cheek, looking at her eyes filled with fear, “M’sorry alright! I won’t touch you again I swear!” he shouts rushing through his words.

The guitarists steps forward getting closer to the guy at eye level, “For the record, it shouldn’t take me lying about us being a couple for ya to respect her.”

The second he steps back MJ sees Lars come through and grabs the guy dragging him off. He tries to fight against Lars but that man is bigger than most and he works in security for a reason.

“You alright?” The guitarist asks his voice much softer, turning around to face her.

She’s stunned for a moment and just nods her head, “Uh yeah, yeah, thanks.” She says shocked.

“No problem.” He grins and jumps back on the stage.

She’s a little floored at what just happened but she looks around her and the crowd has closed in again, looking back up at the stage.

“Sorry for the delay there, but a not so friendly reminder, don’t act like a prick and touch people without consent ya? You will not be escorted out without a black eye.” One of the other band members says addressing the crowd.

The crowd roars with cheering as they start up another song, MJ really can only laugh and just rolls with it. The whole time making intensely too much eye contact with the tall guitarist whose wicks frame his face as he vibes with the music.

By the time the shows over, she’s able to wiggle herself out with the help of Lars. A lot of the crowd stays, still high off the show.

“Great save back there Lars, maybe we should hire that guy when people get handsy with the staff.” She jokes smacking his chest.

“Piss off MJ, I was gonna throw him out after you clocked him but, well, I didn’t have to.” He laughs holding the door to the back open.

“Night Lars, seriously though, thanks for taking the guy out.” She laughs going to grab her backpack and head back home.

He shakes his head at her and steps back helping to pack up the band’s equipment.

“Oi! Hey,” The guitarist from before comes up to Lars, “Is that girl here? The one who had that prick touch her? I wanted to talk to her.” He says.

Lars looks over him curiously raising a brow, “Oh, no she left. She works here if you wanted to try to find her.” He offers casually.

“No, no, just wanted to know she’s okay.” The guitarist replies shoving his hands in his vest pockets.

“Oh, I promise she’s fine, takes a lot more than that to shake her.” Lars chuckles. “She gave me a warning look and I was ready to grab him when he put his hands on her.”

“Good, good.” The guitarist nods in approval. He starts to walk back towards his band, who’s packing up the last of their stuff.

He keeps the name of the pub in the back of his head with the image of a pink girl with maroon colored hair.

Two weeks pass and MJ’s behind her bar working on a few drinks when she sees a seemingly familiar face plop a seat.

She gives the person their drink and turns to address the new face, when she’s met with a familiar voice. “Hey stranger.” The guitarist from before greets cheekily leaning into the bar top.

She beams at him, “Hey! Lars told me you were asking around for me after the show. Sorry I didn’t stay.”

He just shrugs nonchalantly, “No biggie, just wanted to know you were fine is all.”

She gives a soft laugh shaking her head, “Trust, I’m good. I was gonna clock him and let Lars handle him but…” She trails off giving him a pointed look, “You handled it just fine.” She teases.

“Oof, I woulda loved to see ya give him a mean right hook though.” He chuckles.

She shakes her head in disbelief, “Maybe next time.” She smiles softly.

“Oh? Already planning the next time we’ll hit someone who’s being a sexist prick?” he smirks leaning closer to her on the bar top.

She gives him a genuine laugh, loud and it shakes her body. “Absolutely.”

A beat of silence passes between them before she decides its time to do her job, “So, what can I get ya?”

“Your name preferably.” He replies easily flashing her a smile.

Genuine surprise flashes across her face and then a hot flush across her cheeks.

“Depends,” She fires back, teasingly. He raises a brow at her.

“I’m MJ to most people, especially the ones I’ve just met.” She says easily. Grabbing a clean glass.

Something lights up in his eyes for a split second, like he’s found something he’s been looking for.

“I like that, what’s it short for?” He presses.

“Mmmm, I don’t know, you are asking for my government name and I don’t even have your first name.” She says playfully tilting her head.

“Hobie, Hobie Brown.” He says without giving it a second thought.

She bites her lip, hesitating, but caves under his warm eyes. She feels a pull towards this man, and maybe she’s just projecting because he stuck his neck out for her, but she feels pulled to him none the less.

“Mariana Jimenez-Watson.” She gives him.

He grins so big it could almost split his face, “I like Mariana.” He tells her softly.

Her face warms up again and she turns to fill the glass with water. “Let’s settle for MJ alright?” she says.

“Alright.” He murmurs.

#my art #spider man: across the spider verse #hobie brown x oc #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown #across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv #atsv hobie #MJ Watson #spiderman fanfiction #spider punk #spiderpunk

78 notes · View notes

mj-iza-writer · 3 months

Text

Because I read about a defiant Whumpee earlier and I want to write one now. -MJ

Caretaker rolled his eyes as Whumpee tore off the blanket and crawled into the corner of the room.

"Okay, you're right, I overstepped by covering you up", Caretaker sighed, "the blanket is yours, if you like, you looked a little cold."

Whumpee buried their face partially into their arms and glared at Caretaker.

"Or not", Caretaker frowned.

"Alright I'm going to get some work done in my office, if you need anything let me know", Caretaker turned to leave.

"Okay", Whumpee finally uttered.

"It's not you or them, it's the trauma", Caretaker whispered to themself as they walked to their office, "there is nothing you can do about the trauma, you can only show them they're safe, that's it."

Whumpee's eyes wandered the room, they didn't see any threats, but they knew to be on the lookout. They couldn't rest, no, something would happen if they let their guard down.

Whumpee hadn't slept in days, after Caretaker would leave the bedroom Whumpee would sit up. They would quickly lay down and fake sleeping if Caretaker came in.

'Why won't he just do it and get it over with. Beat me up or something', Whumpee would often think to themself.

Whumpee's eyes grew tired, they shivered a little.

'The blanket is right there', they thought to themself, 'you can't chance getting comfortable though. You'll let your guard down.'

Whumpee felt their head fall a couple times, they were getting so tired.

Whumpee jumped when a loud bang shook the wall.

They let their guard down. What was happening?

Lightning lit the room they sat in.

"No, no, no", Whumpee panicked, rain started to pelt the side of the house.

They covered their ears before more thunder could crash. Still shaken as it rattled the wall they sat beside.

Rain poured outside now.

Whumpee cautiously looked out the window when another flash of lightning lit up the sky.

They dunked under the blanket they had abandoned earlier and waited for the loud boom.

A small yelp escaped their lips as the floor shook with the thunder.

They used the blanket to wipe a tear before getting up and wrapping the blanket around themself.

Another flash of lightning warned of the incoming thunder. Whumpee quickly ran to get away from the window.

Caretaker looked up in shock as Whumpee hurried into the room, and shut the door behind them.

Whumpee turned to Caretaker, they made a petrified face.

Whumpee tripped and fell to the floor when a long-winded thunder shook the house.

Caretaker quickly got up and went to help Whumpee get back up.

Whumpee cowarded away from his hand and lifted their arms in defense of their face.

More thunder and Whumpee wrapped the blanket around their head.

"Please make it stop", Whumpee finally begged, "I'll do anything, please."

Caretaker watched in shock as the most difficult case they had ever had shook under the blanket.

"Okay, uhh", Caretaker panicked and realized suddenly that Whumpee was actually asking for help, their help. This never happened, "I can't make the storm stop, but I can make it quiet for you."

Whumpee uncovered their face and looked at Caretaker, "wh-what do you mean?"

"I need to go grab something. Can you wait right here?", Caretaker went to the doorway, "I'll be right back."

Whumpee made a fearful expression and almost felt like reaching their hand out. They gulped and nodded yes.

Whumpee looked around the room, their was no way of seeing the lightning in here. They could still hear the thunder and rain though.

Caretaker came in carrying a pair of headphones. He was adjusting the sides when he showed Whumpee.

"Wh-what is it?", Whumpee shook.

"These are noise canceling headphones", Caretaker moved them around for Whumpee to see them, "they cancel out noise, you won't be able to hear the thunder with them on."

Whumpee looked at Caretaker weirdly, but quickly grabbed them when another bang shook the house.

"How do they... how do they work?", Whumpee whispered with a shaky voice. Their throat felt dry and tight from trying not to cry.

Caretaker gently grabbed the headphones and placed them on Whumpee's head. He adjusted them to where they covered Whumpee's ears comfortably.

"Can you hear me?", Caretaker watched Whumpee as they realized they couldn't hear anything.

"Huh?", Whumpee lifted one side off their ears.

"I was asking if you could hear me", Caretaker grinned, "you can use them, I didn't know you were afraid of storms. I apologize for that."

Whumpee nodded, then put the part back over their ears.

"I don't like loud sounds", Whumpee finally admitted.

Caretaker nodded.

Caretaker cautiously reached for Whumpee's shoulder. They wanted to help Whumpee off of the floor.

Whumpee gave a weird look and pulled away, but then they looked at Caretaker.

Caretaker gave an understanding smile, it felt like they had finally gotten somewhere with Whumpee.

Whumpee looked down and nodded, letting Caretaker reach for their shoulder again.

Caretaker gently led them to a chair.

Whumpee looked at the chair worriedly, then at Caretaker. They had never been allowed to sit on furniture until Caretaker started taking care of them.

Caretaker patted on the chair inviting Whumpee to sit.

Whumpee looked at the chair and gulped as they went to sit down.

The chair reclined back, making Whumpee jump and knock the headphones off their ear.

"It's okay, the chair reclines. You can sit here and relax. I won't leave you alone", Caretaker promised before readjusting the headphones.

Whumpee watched silently as Caretaker took the blanket they had had and covered Whumpee up.

Caretaker grabbed Whumpee a water and a snack before they went back to where they were sitting.

Whumpee watched Caretaker for a while until they started to feel their eyes get heavy again.

They were thankful for the noise canceling headphones. The house shaking occasionally was the only way they knew the storm was still going on. This room had no windows.

Whumpee fought to stay awake for a few minutes before letting their head fall to the side.

Caretaker looked up when they saw Whumpee's head fall.

Caretaker sighed in relief, "finally", Caretaker looked back at their work, "I can't imagine what happened to make you scared of storms and loud noises."

Whumpee sighed peacefully.

"You actually let me take care of you", Caretaker smiled.

The next morning, Whumpee woke up they slowly looked around. They jumped when they saw Caretaker sleeping on the couch nearby.

Caretaker opened their eyes and smiled when they saw Whumpee looking at them.

Whumpee cautiously pulled part of the headphone off their ear.

"It's no longer storming", Caretaker spoke above a whisper, "there are no loud noises."

Whumpee took the headphone off.

"Wh-why are you sleeping on the couch sir? That doesn't look comfortable at all", Whumpee watched Caretaker sit up and stretch.

"To be honest, it's not, but it wouldn't be the first time I slept on this old thing", Caretaker chuckled, "I promised you I wouldn't leave you alone."

Whumpee felt their hard exterior break a little.

"Plus, I know you haven't gotten any sleep since you came here", Caretaker grinned, "you're not that great at faking, and you can't hide those dark circles around your eyes. I didn't want to disturb you finally getting some sleep."

"Why didn't you out me for that, I would have been badly punished if my abuser found out something like that", Whumpee looked at Caretaker with frustration, "why aren't you like them?"

"I'm not like them Whumpee, I'm here to take care of you and protect you", Caretaker stood, "you have been through a lot. I know you're angry, you're hurt, you're scared. It's understandable that you would have a hard time feeling comfortable."

"It will take time for you to feel comfortable around me and this house. Easy or not, it is my job to show you that you are safe", Caretaker sighed as he stretched more, "you can keep those headphones with you if you like."

Whumpee looked down at the headphones, "this last week I've been on edge. I've been waiting for you to hurt me, to do something. I didn't want to be hurt", Whumpee looked back up.

"I know you were trying to push me away, hurt me before I could hurt you", Caretaker stepped closer, "I'm just going to get closer to you, don't worry. Honestly, you've been one of my harder cases, but you've also seen the worst out of all the others I've had."

Whumpee breathed out the frustration, "but you've never lost patience. I've been so mean. How come you've never even threatened to hurt me?"

"I'll be honest. There have been times this last week when I questioned if I was going to get anywhere with you, I wondered if you would feel comfortable with someone else", Caretaker admitted, "sometimes certain patients might not match up right with a caretaker, and a different one might."

"You deserve the best services I can offer you", Caretaker smiled, "you deserve my best. I would never threaten you."

Whumpee looked at the headphones, "I'm sorry... for how I've been acting."

"No need to apologize, you were in survival mode. That's how you've had to be for a long time. I didn't expect you to be easy, I didn't expect your trauma to go away the minute I started taking care of you", Caretaker now crouched in front of Whumpee, "I will work to gain your trust, maybe then you can relax more and not be on edge."

Whumpee listened quietly as they fiddled with the headphones.

"Is that possible?", Whumpee sighed.

"I'm sure it is, in time at least. That is my job as your caregiver though", Caretaker smiled, "I don't ask for your trust, I work for your trust. I have to earn that from you. Okay?"

Whumpee whimpered as crying was becoming harder to hold back.

"I know this will be hard for you. We will work slowly until we get you more comfortable", Caretaker patted Whumpee's leg, then stood, "if you don't like something, then let me know, okay?"

Whumpee nodded trying to hold back crying.

"Okay I can see you are having a hard time with emotions, and you don't like to show those yet", Caretaker started toward the door, "how about breakfast?"

Whumpee nodded, then got up. They clutched the headphones close to them as they followed Caretaker to the kitchen.

Taglist: As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all. @villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived @sacredwrath @porschethemermaid @monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz @bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13 @notpeppermint @cyborg0109 @idontreallyexistyet

#whump community #whump stuff #whump writing #whump ideas #whump #whumpee #whumper #whump scenario #caretaking #oc #caretaker #caretaker and whumpee #defiant whumpee #trauma

90 notes · View notes

jinxedmuse · 8 months

Text

고갤 들어 헤매다 꽃은 피어

🌒 purple rose — yoon jeonghan 윤정한

🎵 all night - beyoncé, bartender - lana del rey, kiss me - cassie, fantasize- ariana grande, girls need love (w/ drake) - summer wlkr, so anxious - ginuwine, like i need u - keshi, tumblr girls - geazy, next to you - bryson tiller, 7 exp ver - jk

in which: you find out that your cranky boss at your bartending job turns out to be quite the mischievous co-host of an exclusive bdsm club. not wanting to back down, you try to ignore this new found info when at work. but once blurred lines are already crossed, can they really be forgotten?

authors note: hiiii! im kinda proud of this:?/! (spoiler i hate this rn) this is part 1 of 2. started writing this 4 days ago after watching thing 1 & thing 2 & developing a filthy jh brain rot >< not proof read (clearly , ew) but enjoy plz & ty :,)!!

warnings: fem biology, v frequent cursing, absolute filthy smut (bdsm including but not limited to: degradation/praise, oral/cunnilings, raw sex,consented force, restricting toys, & etc) angst (?), alcohol, use of mj, pet names; princess, darling, slut

tags: 25 y/o bartender!reader x 27 y/o boss!jeonghan — boss/subordinate to fuck buddies to lovers (?)

friday 5:48pm kst

you exit the employee break room after hearing some frustrated curses and grunts. to no surprise, you see your boss yoon jeonghan, struggling with something up front.

you approach him cautiously, “you okay boss?” once you’re by him, you see clearly what he’s struggling with; the tap handle.

shit.

you were supposed to tell him about that problem like an hour earlier.

“no. it’s this stupid fucking lever that won’t go down and when i try-“ you listen to his complaints silently, biting your bottom lip. a habit you’ve formed whenever you get anxious.

he realizes how quiet you suddenly got and he pauses, looking at you with a slightly raised eyebrow.

“why do you look like you know this already?”

fuck fuck fuck.

you let out a stale laugh, jokingly slapping his back. “haha what? no way, is that the tap handle? yeah so about that, i meant to tell you earlier but i forgot because i was busy with the..?”

the? the? the absolutely nothing. the truth is you forgot all about the stupid, useless lever as soon as your boss walked into work. his sleeves rolled up, his first two buttons unbuttoned and his semi-long hair pulled into a ponytail.

he takes a step back from you, putting his face in his hands and taking a deep breath. he drops his hands, putting one into his pocket and taking his other hand and poking your shoulder back with every few words he said up until you were completely back up unto the wall behind you.

“the first thing i asked you when i walked in here, was if there was something i needed to know. cat got your tongue staring at me or what?”

your head hit the wall slightly. not enough to hurt but enough to make your breath hitch. you were starting to get aggravated with the demeaning tone he constantly had with you.

you muster up your best apology, wanting to get this over with as soon as possible.

“i really am sorry. won’t let it happen again boss.”

he lets out a sardonic laughter before completely turning his back to you and garnering attention from the rest of the team.

“when i ask you if there’s something i need to know, you tell me immediately. not less than an hour before opening, yeah?” he says clearly and sternly. eyes going cold for a moment.

they all nod their head in compliance, looking at you from the corner of their eye. some out of pity and some annoyance.

almost as soon as it was there, his mild scowl left. replaced with his notorious, easygoing smile. he claps his hand before looking at his watch. “great. everybody take positions, we open in 10 minutes.”

saturday 12:39 am kst

“i’m seriously, seriously, so fucking over him. as soon as i rack up enough money for a new apartment elsewhere, i’m quitting this job,” you say with a huff, falling back into your reclinable chair.

your best friend, hae won had picked you up from work after your 8-hour shift and brought you home. you both were currently on your patio as she let you vent your heart out into the night.

she lays out a blanket over you and goes to sit down across from you. “babe, you say that after every shift.”

you set down your drink in exasperation. “you don’t know what he’s like. he’s so fucking passive-aggressive- scratch that, just aggressive. only towards me!” you complain while flailing your arms.

she looks at you, amused by your expressive way of telling stories and the reactions that match them.

“and you think he’s singling you out?” she asks raising an eyebrow.

“he might as well be! dude, i fuck up once in a while and it’s like i’m begging on my knees to keep my job, meanwhile that jisoo guy- which i’m sure they’re friends by the way, could sleep on the job and he’d probably get a raise. it’s like they’re evil twins!”

hae won lets out a sympathetic laugh before speaking. “hm i would’ve never thought he was like that. he’s hot. like, beautifully hot. especially when he has his long hair?”

she lets out a cat call-like whistle into the air and you both erupt in laughter.

“i mean, i guess he is,” you say as y’all simmer down, agreeing with her comment. to deny it would be a blatant lie. if there’s one thing yoon jeonghan, it was beautiful.

his hair is always perfectly styled. he had these intense eyes when he was focused on working. he’d roll up his sleeves and sometimes stand behind you, instructing you how to work something with a low voice.

she interrupts you out of your thoughts, eyes scheming with a look that says she has a plan.

“you know what you need?” she asks getting closer to the table. you look up at her desperately. eager to hear what it is she has to say this time.

“to get laid. like some mind-blowing sex that distracts you from all this work bullshit.” she deadpans.

you let out a stale laugh, not taking her seriously. “right, and where am i gonna find the time for that? and don’t say a dating app because i’m cursed with those things.”

her face remains serious, a glimmer of mischief in her eyes.

“wanna know a secret?” she asks while scooting her chair closer to yours. you lean into her, slightly curious at what random, outrageous plan she is cooking up.

“i have a club i go to,” she says simply. you back up & look at her perplexed; was this the big secret that she was supposedly hiding?

you pick up your beer, taking a sip. the cool foam hitting the back of your throat before the actual drink does. “what club? did a new one open in Hongdae?”

she takes a sip from her can, a non-alcoholic beer, while slightly shaking her head. “no, not that type of club. they’re having an event this weekend, come with me on sunday?”

now you’re skeptical, had your best friend been lured into something? “this better not be some cult shit, i already deal with enough of those recruiters on the way to work.”

hae won loosens up now, returning to her playful nature and laughing at your claim. “it’s not. i promise, i’ve been there before.”

you thought this through for like half a second. you had work on monday but so what? you haven’t made an impulsive decision in a while.

“alright, why not.”

hae won claps in excitement, eyes practically beaming with delight. she had finally roped you into her plan.

she finishes up her drink and starts getting up while speaking.

“good! wear all black, doesn’t matter what and make sure it’s ‘accessible’ if you know what i mean.”

grabbing her coat and purse, she winked and left. heading home for the night.

sunday 10:15pm kst

your rush up to your best friend's car while pulling down your mini-trimmed black skirt. it had paired up well with an off-the-shoulder, see-through, black button-up shirt that you were wearing with no bra.

you had decided against safety shorts after thinking about it for like 5 minutes in front of your mirror before just saying fuck it.

a big regret.

“get in, we’re already kinda late.”

you get into the car, close the door, and start zipping up your black, knee-high, faux leather boots. “well hello to you too, princess” you say jokingly.

she was wearing almost the same thing as you but instead of a top and skirt combo, she had opted for a sheer, slightly see-through, button-up mini-black dress with thigh-high boots.

“oh and put this on once we reach” she hands you what seemed like a masquerade mask. it had a gold band with cute gold fringes and small cat-like ears at its peak.

that didn’t stop you from being completely thrown off guard though. “dude what type of fucking club is this?”

she puts a finger on her lips before starting the engine and pulling out of the lot. “shh just trust me, this shit is gonna rock your mind”

10:28 pm kst

when you finally arrived at the destination, you looked through the car window and your mouth immediately dropped.

undoing your seatbelt, you got out of the car with your best friend who was taking quick and hasty steps towards the front door.

you follow her and find yourself standing in front of the giant double doors, practically in a state of shock. “why are we at a mansion right now?” you ask while trying not to freak.

hae won looks at you, smiling before pulling her mask up to her face and ringing the doorbell once and then knocking on the door twice. “nice, right?”

“yeah but where is the club? you know what—fuck this, i’m out” you start walking away but your best friend tugs you back and quickly hands you your mask once more.

you give her a stern look but the door starts unlocking and you find yourself immediately putting on the mask.

the guy that opens the door looks like he came straight out of a dream. he was large with broad shoulders and muscular arms almost as big as your thigh. his hair was blonde and kinda of long, stopping right by his ear, styled perfectly. his eyebrows dark and prominent.

he was wearing a black and red masquerade mask with emerald green accents. he opens the door wider and with a deep husky voice, he finally speaks up.

“so, what is it tonight ladies?” he asked while holding up a variety of different colored wristbands.

your best friend speaks up for the both of you, knowing you were still shocked. “both single, both bicurious.” she rushes out.

she then takes your hand in hers and walks through the door, standing in front of the man.

he lets out a genuine laugh. skies above, it was so sexy. he then closed the door, taking two pink wristbands and wrapping them around both your wrists.

his big hands were warm and scruff but clean, it was obvious he worked out. yet he was being gentle as if we were delicate flowers.

he looks up, accomplished. “right all set, follow me.” before we gave a reply he already turned his back towards us, heading deeper into the mansion.

the further in we went, we started hearing low r&b music, like some actual baby-making music. there were all types of girls and guys and people in general of different heights, wearing different clothes, and in different masks, each with a different colored wristband.

he stops in his tracks and you almost bump into his large back, smack dab with what seems like a tattoo peeking out from under his collar. he turns around, holding you steady.

his touch was warm and stern and very caring like a worried leader. he rubs your shoulder before dropping his hands and speaking up once more.

“alright, ladies. drinks are to your left, rooms are upstairs, enjoy yourself” and with that he walks off, heading to a group of guys, all seemingly just as attractive.

you finally turn towards your best friend who seems to be just beaming under her mask, taking in her surroundings.

“okay, now fess up. what is this place?” you ask in a hushed whisper. she looks up at you innocently.

“let’s just call it a bdsm castle, yeah?” she says all too casually.

“oh. you’re fucking joking.”

“nope” she pops the p and scans the room some more before looking back at you.

“and you’ve been here before?” you ask, wide-eyed.

“yes, well once with that one ex that was an investment banker.” she then takes your hand and starts walking with you, going further into what seemed like the lounge room.

you were nervous, super nervous. you wanted to bail and quite frankly you should’ve but behind your already jarred morales, your subconscious was screaming “why the fuck not” and to be honest, you were intrigued.

“what the hell am i supposed to do here?” you ask curiously

“what the hell else? mingle, fuck, have fun. seriously anything.” she starts. she then nods her head towards a group of people that are standing by a piano, drinks in hand while in deep conversation. “you see those people with the white wristbands? they’re observers.”

squinting your eyes in their direction you could see their white wristbands. you turned towards her, curiosity growing by the second. “observing for what?”

“means they’re not here to have sex. just here to watch people have sex. voyeurism or some shit, at least for today i guess.” she says quickly before moving on.

“pink means single and willing to get laid basically and red means in a relationship but willing to get laid.” she further explains.

you look at her perplexed. “so cheaters come here to get their dick wet?”

hae won laughs at your remark but shakes her index finger signifying no. “mainly means that they’re polyamorous and looking for a third or fourth or whatever it is they’re into.” she breaks down.

the essence of this place was starting to make sense. you nod, showing your comprehension and edging her to keep talking.

“oh, and you’re not allowed to say your name. you don’t need a code name or some shit but usually, these things are exclusive and private ie: CEOs, your local librarian. anyone could be here and unless you decide you want to sleep with them, which is the only time you can take off each other's mask, you can’t ask for their name.”

you look at her with a sly smile. “you know for someone who's only been here once you sure do know a lot.”

“oh, did i say once? I thought i said twice. i’m thirsty, are you thirsty? i’ll go get us a drink” before you could reply she was already making her way to the bar.

she orders the drinks but lingers, it seems like she is flirting with the bartender who has dyed hair. he was wearing a slightly orange and silver mask with pointed cat ears. he was tall and lengthy, his movements clumsy yet still confident as he made the drinks.

you rolled your eyes in adornment, looking around. your feet were hurting, they were low-heeled boots but still. you sit down on a lounge couch and roll your ankles slightly.

“you okay there?” a voice asks in a dialect you aren’t quite used to. it sounded more like an accent from elsewhere. their voice was smooth.

you look up and a slim and tall man has come up to you. he has multiple earrings and fiery red hair styled nicely. he had on a green mask with gold lining. he was holding a drink in his hand, which seemed like some type of wine and you noticed that his nails were clean and painted.

you smile before remembering your mask. standing up, you approach him and stretch out your hand to shake his. his hand meets yours, a white wristband around his small wrist.

“here to watch?” you ask. he leans in closer to you, your hand still in his. his voice was low and smooth, yet full of personality.

“that’s only if you allow me,” he says, tugging you slightly closer to him. his actions were bold, making your face heat up almost immediately but he radiated a type of calmness to him that you rarely saw in men nowadays.

just as he’s about to whisper something in your ear, someone else joins you too. slinging an arm around his shoulder and pulling him back away from you.

“aw not fair man, you know i called dibs.” said the new man.

dibs?

now he was a sight for sore eyes. even the bunny-shaped white mask couldn’t hide the fact that there was certainly a handsome face underneath.

his almost jet-black hair was long and had a sheen to it that made you know he took proper care of it. it hung over his face, well mask, with only one side tucked behind his ear. his eyes through the mask were mischievous and his tone playful. he was wearing a prada suit with its tie lazily undone, barely holding it together.

the guy in the green mask let out a small laugh. “i was only introducing myself” he said, keeping his eyes on you.

“yeah well introduce yourself elsewhere. besides, your twin asked me to call you over.” the mysterious man said, nodding his head towards the bar.

mr. green mask looked back and you followed his gaze. sure enough, you saw the guy with oreo hair waving him over. your best friend looking up at him lustfully.

he cleared his throat, biting the inside of his cheek at the sight. he slowly stirs his wine, taking the last sip while not breaking eye contact with them. he looks back at you swiftly, excusing himself before walking over to them.

you were now alone with the guy wearing the bunny mask. he approached you confidently, taking 3 long strides towards you but he didn’t stop there. he kept going until you fell back onto the couch. both of his hands were at your side, keeping you in place. the move felt eerily familiar to your boss.

nope. you weren’t going to do that. think about your boss on a weekend? you refused.

you finally spoke up to him directly, even leaning in slightly, not backing down from the confident man.

“someone seems interested.” you tease all whilst maintaining eye contact.

“oh trust me, very,” he replies back before you can even finish your sentence. he then takes a hand and brings it up to your face. you flinch, not scared of him but about your mask.

“relax darling, in due time,” he says. he leans in closer, your face now practically inches away from each other. he then raises a leg, putting his knee in between your legs. once positioned, he straightens himself up, now looking down at you.

with one hand now in his pockets once more, he uses the other to gently cup your face; his slender and cold fingers slightly squeezing your cheeks. you felt like a doll under his touch, your face gradually growing warmer.

“hm someone getting hot, huh? you interested?” he asks, not breaking eye contact. still cupping your face, one of his fingers, his thumb specifically, grazes over your now pouted lips underneath the mask.

you nod, almost too frozen to speak but he shakes his head, kissing his teeth.

“c’mon darling, we’re grown. use your words.” he insisted, cupping your face a bit tighter now. this makes you respond almost immediately.

“very interested.” you manage to get out.

he laughs at you. “atta girl” he says, as if he knew full and well the effect he had on you. a familiar heartbeat appeared in your cunt, you could already feel it getting warmer as you got more excited.

he lets go of your face and backs up from the couch. he straightens himself up and slightly cracks his neck, relieving the tension from looking down at you.

he then offers you the palm of his hand. you look at it for a second but he takes it as hesitation.

“don’t worry, i don’t bite; that is of course unless you want me to.” his voice sounded like a trance, you could tell he was the type to be able to convince someone to walk off a cliff if he truly wanted to.

you take his hand and he jolts you up, pulling you into him. he catches you effortlessly, wrapping an arm around your waist lazily. he gets closer to you, his cologne smells good, probably expensive.

he whispers in your ear as if no one else in the room full of other people who had the same plan, needed to hear your intimate conversation.

“let’s go find ourselves a room.”

11:16 pm kst

the masked man walks you to a secluded area of the house. stopping right before a door that seemed to have a keypad instead of a keyhole.

he looks back at you once more, raising an eyebrow . “not backing down?” he asks, tone hopeful that you say no.

honestly, this wasn’t your style. sure you’ve had a one night stand before but this whole bdsm castle thing? you felt like a virgin all over again.

yet there you were, anticipating for this masked man to fuck you funny. your cunt already slick with wetness, his actions from earlier had a strong effect on you and you wondered just if this man could truly satisfy you.

you nod, stepping closer to him and the door. “not backing down.” you say firmly, keeping direct eye contact.

with that, he punches in some numbers and the door clicks open. he leads you in and you have to mentally stop yourself from your jaw-dropping. the room was huge, all the furniture black and the bed could easily fit at least six people on there.

you stepped closer, taking it all in. at the head and feet of the bed, there were stainless steel handcuffs. at the foot of the bed, there was a thick rope lying on top of the bedroom bench.

you touched it gently, tracing a finger along it’s rigid and dry nylon. was he planning on using this on you? and almost as though he read your mind, he kept up behind you, leaving no space for imagination.

his hard cock twitching against your ass, his chest against your back. he brought down his still-masked face into the crook of your neck, pulling you into a back hug, arms wrapped around your waist.

“you wanna use that tonight darling?”

his voice rose the tiny hairs on your arm, your cunt now pulsating in an almost painful and steady beat, asking, no, begging to be used.

“i’ll do whatever it is you want me to,” you replied, voice shaky, heavy breathing.

with that, he faces you towards him. your back to the bed before he pushes you onto it softly with one finger.

he crawls on top of you. both thighs at your side, knees dug into the plush and satin bedding. “now i warn you, i have a slim frame but i am a bit sadistic. scratch that, extremely sadistic. is there anything you’re uncomfortable with?”

you thought about it for a moment. aside from your ex and that one, one-night stand, you haven’t been sexually involved with anyone else. you weren’t too sure about the entire bdsm world. you’re old enough to get the gist but you weren’t sure how far you could go, how much your body could take.

“hm, i don’t mind spit but i’m not sure about it in my mouth. i’m not a fan of the butt stuff and i think that’s it? we can try anything tonight, i’m willing.” you consent. he laughs at your eagerness, finding it cute. finding you adorable.

he then brings a hand up to your hair, stroking it gently. “once i take off these masks, if, by some off chance, you ever see me outside of these mansion walls, know that i don’t know you and you don’t know me. strictly pleasure okay?”

his words weren’t harsh but it still made you flinch. it’s fine, he was simply being direct. you’re both consenting adults for a fun night, no need to turn this into something more and complicate things. besides, seoul was huge. no way you’d see each other outside of here. slim to none chance.

“yeah i’m cool with that, strictly pleasure,” you repeat back, anxious as ever.

“you wanna have the honor or may i?” he asks, finger slung into the string of your mask, slowly teasing it off.

you give it a split second thought before reaching for his. “let’s do it at the same time.”

he laughs, amused at your suggestion. “ i don’t see why not.” he holds your mask as you hold his and you both take them off.

the mask comes off and it seems like someone just knocked the wind out of you. no fucking way.

absolutely no fucking way.

“what the hell.”

it was non other than your boss. yoon jeonghan.

you must have upset the universe somehow, your shakras aren’t aligned, SOMETHING, because there is no fucking way your boss you had to meet at work on monday was getting you dripping wet on a sunday.

he smirks, dropping your mask and letting out an amused laugh.

“now this, this is interesting.” but he doesn’t back up, instead he keeps on getting closer and backing you up onto what seems like a dozen pillows.

“i should’ve known something was off by that voice” you murmur, no longer maintaining eye contact yet still trapped beneath him.

“awh c’mon, i’m not that bad,” he says in a low and husky voice. he licks his lips slowly, almost in a circular motion while eyeing yours. he then brings a hand up to your neck, pulling you closer to his face before he lets go, hands at your sides again.

he drops his head onto your shoulder, into the crook of your neck before letting out another laugh.

“ahh, what should i do? i really want to fuck you right now.” he says this casually, as if it’s a random daily thought.

it makes you instinctively clench your throbbing pussy. his words weighing more now that you were out of the confines of your job.

jeonghan then backs away from you and sits at the end of the bed, he opens up a drawer at the table side and pulls out a case of joints. he brings one up to his lips before looking over at you.

“want one?” he offers, the joint going up and down as he speaks.

you hesitate, observing his face. were you really about to fuck your boss. should you? i mean this was the same guy who usually gave you hell on earth while at work.

he puts down the spare joint as if coming to a realization. “ah, i probably shouldn’t be offering my employee weed huh?” He’s about to put it back and away into case when you suddenly stop him. your hand grabbing his wrist.

“yeah, i want one.” if he was going to be casual about this, why couldn’t you?

“hm. okay. grab a lighter from the left nightstand. It’s in the top dresser.”

you nod and open the drawer, sure enough, there are a few lighters. you grab a random one and hold it up to him but you realize he had put away the case of joints and was staring at you curiously.

“where’s mine?” you ask, still holding up the lighter.

he shakes his head, a sly smirk on his face. he then comes closer to you once more, joint still in his mouth. he points it out so you can light it.

you flick it once, it buffers. the second time, a dim flame comes out of the lighter. as you’re sparking the joint, he’s not breaking eye contact. finally he drags in a puff, holding it for a second.

“so, what’ll it be? are you gonna give me the honor of fucking you tonight?” he asked while inhaling smoke, eyes glued on you.

you knew it was wrong. it’d be awkward at work and you hardly even like him. but you were already in too far and honestly it had been so long since you slept with someone. to say you were touch starved would be underwhelming.

“yes.” is all you simply respond, now staring back at him with the same intensity.

he studies you for a few more seconds before holding out his pinkie, “no strings?”

you look at it and intertwine your own with his, then connect your thumbs. “no strings.” you repeat.

with that, he pulls you in roughly, exhaling smoke into your mouth. your eyes get watery but you successfully hold back a cough. he turns the shotgun into a kiss, wrapping his cold hand around your throat and brushing his tongue against your bottom lip, asking for access.

as soon as your part your lips open, he glides his tongue against your own, taking it roughly yet passionately. soft groans leaving his mouth. He laid you down on the bed, not breaking the kiss and the harsh movements caused you to moan into his mouth.

his other hand finds itself at your waist, holding you firmly beneath him. fingers digging into your skin as if there was still too much space between you too. it didn’t seem possible but the kiss deepened as he fully put himself on you, his body pressing hard against yours. his hardening crotch rutting against your core, eager for some kind of friction, eager to make you feel good.

you bring down a hand, starting to palm him through his once smooth slacks and almost immediately he moans into your mouth, shuddering at your touch.

he pauses, pulling back from the kiss with haggard breathing, you chase after his mouth. already missing it’s warmth on yours.

he giggles, almost too cutely for such a vile scene. “aww, you like my mouth that much princess? i can do much more with it.

“let me serve you,” he says this almost desperately, hands roaming your body.

your back arches at his touch, your cunt leaking wetness unto the satin sheets underneath you. “please, i need your touch.” you say between anguished moans.

he cocks his head to the side. “such a needy girl huh?” he was enjoying the view of you pathetically rutting yourself against the satin sheets. your fist gripping onto them.

he gets up and takes off his tie, he then takes one more puff of his joint before tossing it back on the nightstand. you were still on the bed, your core wet and aching badly. you needed him to do something to you soon or you would practically go crazy.

he smirks, pleased with simply seeing you shift uncomfortably. you can tell he wanted you just as much. his hardening cock making a very apparent dent in his pants.

“strip,” he demands. his voice broke you out of the strange of looking at his crotch, you didn’t even realize you were still fully clothed.

you complied almost pathetically too fast. taking off your mini skirt and your sheer shirt. immediately, the cold air hit you. your nipples getting instantly hard at the feeling.

his eyes dropped to your body, a lustful gaze with something so much more. as if he would spend the rest of his life admiring your body if he could. “fuck, you’re beautiful.”

he watched almost in awe, gently patting your hair before roughly pulling you closer to his face. he started kissing you once more, tongue eagerly greeting yours as if he couldn’t go another second without your mouth.

it was a sloppy kiss, just needing to feel each other. mouths desperate and far too eager to worry about presentation. he pulls back again, a string of mixed saliva breaking off between you too.

you moan dissatisfied as he pulls away, looking up at him with confused doe eyes.

“lie down.” he ordered, the lustful glimmer returning to his eyes.

“yes boss.” is all you can pull together, it was small and measly but he heard it.

fuck. you were so used to saying it out of habit at work you didn’t even realize it slipped out until he had gone silent.

too scared to look at him, you kept your head down. ashamed you could’ve fucked up that bad. instead, you feel his cold hands lifting up your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“i like that.” is all he says before he nods to the bed, signaling you to continue lying down.

you obeyed him and he found himself at your sides again. taking his hand towards your warm and soft body. he dragged a delicate and icy finger along all your curves, minuscule and large. just needing to feel the touch of your skin beneath him.

he drags it back up, reaching your plump breast and he starts playing with the bud of your nipples, making you wince at the feeling, back arching at his touch.

“fuck that feels so—ngh shit.” you tried to string some words together but all you could do is whimper pathetically.

his dick was practically begging to get out of his boxers, hell, even just his pants. at every pretty moan, you let out, it twitched, your lewd noises already having control over it before you had even touched it.

“mhm what did i say about using our words princess? since you’re so bad at following instructions, i’ll have to punish you like the perfect slut you are for me, eh?”

you look up at him weakly, eyes beaming with anger. he already had you pathetically curling over at his simplest touches, how did he plan on punishing you even more?

“wrist or ankles?” he asked while pointing at the cuffs at the top and bottom of the bed. before even thinking it through you said wrist.

he then briefly got up to tie your left wrist to the left bed pole and your right wrist to the right one. the handcuffs were cold and firm, the type that you could only imagine cops used but it felt like a slightly different material. it felt safe.

he then took the keys and gently grazed them over your nipple bud, earning another breathless moan from you.

he shuddered at the sound of you. one part of him wanted to release a full load right into you but the other wanted to make this last as long as he could.

after all, how often was he going to have his back-talking employee with such lush lips, underneath him? mouth slack, pathetically begging to be touched by the boss you claimed to hate.

“p-please boss, ah fuck- c’mon, just ngnnh fuck me already” you yelp desperately, head was thrown back, no longer able to take the teasing while your cunt wanted to be rammed into harshly.

you could tell he liked seeing you like this. squirming in pain did nothing but make him smile.

“in due time my pretty, pretty princess.” he placed the cold small key on your stomach and then kneeled at the foot of the bed. he trailed both his hands up and down your thighs, your core throbbing harder by the second.

“how bad do you want my mouth?” he teased, kissing your thighs and going higher and higher until he reached your dripping core, it’s heat practically begging for him.

“so-ngn, so bad so so fucking bad please— fuck i can't take it anymore.” that set him off, blowing cool air onto your clit before pulling you towards him.

the action caused a tug on your handcuffs and wrist, causing you to cry out in pain but it quickly turned into pure bliss because not even half a second later the flat of his tongue was on your heated core.

it was like he was on death row and you were his final meal.

his soft and pink tongue delving deeper and deeper into you. even kissing your folds every once in a while. he then took a hand off your thigh and spat on two of his fingers before roughly inserting them into you, curling them slightly so they hit the g spot that made you a moaning mess all while giving you kitten licks on your clit.

the feeling of both his fingers sliding in and out of you at a rapid pace tied with his excruciatingly slow licks, even sucking on your clit harshly every time you moaned out an excruciating “boss.”

your stomach tied in knots, your heat clenching around his fingers that were now wet and covered with your fluid. it felt so good how he was ramming his fingers into you, the palm of his hand slapping onto your core and hitting your clit at a rapid speed.

you swore you could see actual stars.

he moaned into you pussy, barely able to contain himself. “fuck baby you’re making such a mess.”

his praise makes you jolt your hip forward, being met with his eager tongue, “mnnhmgmm it’s all because of you boss, hmhm i need you so fucking bad-d.” you dragged out.

jeonghan couldn’t help himself. using his other hand, he started palming himself through his slacks, desperate for some kind of relief, some kind of touch.

“mhm fuck just like that, keep talking to me baby.” he egged your own, getting drunk at the sound of your messy moans and the squelching sound your cunt made every time his fingers went into you.

you kept praising him, saying anything that came to mind so he wouldn’t stop. your words almost coming out as gibberish because his fingers alone were clouding your thoughts.

“ah-shit, boss just like that, please keep going,” you begged and he abided. he took out his finger and went to work with his mouth again, his tongue harsh and fast, licking your folds and going as deep inside you as he could.

you were so close to an orgasm. your vision getting blurry by all the tears brimming your eyes. he felt the tightness of your cunt around his tongue and fingers.

“tell me when you’re about to come okay baby?” he asked in a haggard voice, pre cum oozing for his tip already.

“ah mgh— y-yes boss im so close” you breathed out.

while he was eating you out, he took the hand he was fingering you with earlier and started rubbing your clit slowly; giving it small slaps that made you squirm around the bed, unable to move much because of the cuffs.

your stomach hit a specific knot and you knew for sure you were about to come undone within the next few seconds.

“i’m—fuck, about to come,” you whine out pathetically, your eyes closed, chasing the high towards the climax.

right as you reach your peak, he pulled away from you.

your eyes immediately snapped open, wide and frustrated that the knot in your stomach was left unsatisfied.

you looked at him, heavy breathing, hair stuck to your face due to sweat. he simply smiled and licked your wetness from his lips and fingers, not wasting a drop.

“why?” was all you managed to whine, practically on the verge of tears at the loss of contact.

he shrugged, a satisfied smirk on his face “the only time you get to come is when i’m fucking you raw princess, simple.”

your eyebrows knit up in confusion.

“so fuck me.”

his eyes went from playful to lustful in an instant at your words. in a swift motion, he undoes his belt and drops it onto the floor. with one hand, he unzips his pants, they hang loose a few inches, showing off his prada briefs. his curved length pulsating underneath.

he then gets back onto the bed, discarding his shirt and revealing a slim but toned body. his arms slightly flexed as he threw the shirt onto a nearby couch.

jeonghan then positions himself on his knees, hair falling unto his face. he looks back up at you, eyebrows knitted with a now unfamiliar expression. he seemed needier as opposed to the hungry mess earlier. “touch me.” is all he says in a low voice.

you crawl towards him yet you feel like a prey being stalked by a predator. you take a nail, trailing it up his thigh, earning a slight grunt from him. your finger stops right above his length, twitching in eagerness. its pink hue apparent from underneath the white briefs.

monday 12:58 am kst

you both fall back onto the bed, worn out and still coming down from the high after exhausting each other to your limits.

he looks at you as if to say something but stops himself. you wanted him to say something. make one of his borderline rude yet sly remarks but he is silent. the sound of both your heavy breathing starting to calm down in the still bedroom.

“uh, is there a bathroom in here?” you ask, refusing to make eye contact with the main that had just fucked your senseless.

he brings up a limp arm, hand pointing to a door by the right nightstand. you get up cautiously, wrapping one of the sheets around your body. you make your way to the door and go through. the bathroom was big and spotless as if it had been cleaned just recently.

outside you hear some faint movement. a dip in the bed followed by careful footsteps. you had a clue you knew what was happening but a part of you wished it wasn’t so.

you use the toilet, never losing your habit of peeing after having sex and then you get into the shower. needing to get the remnants of tonight off your body.

monday 1:47 am kst

you get out of the shower, feeling refreshed and squeaky clean. you use one of the clean guest towels to dry your body and wrap it around yourself.

you reach the bathroom handle, hand hesitant on the nob. unsure if you were ready to face the scene or potentially a person outside. in a swift motion, you open the door and exit the bathroom.

you look to your side unto the bed just to find it neatly made but with no one in it. no scattered clothes lying around, instead it seemed he took his and even folded yours, putting it in a bag on the nightstand with clean oversized clothes next to it.

you were relieved to not have to face your boss after fucking each other for what seemed like two hours but there was a pang in your heart at the fact that yoon jeonghan didn’t even bother at least mention he was leaving.

you dressed yourself in the new clothes and put on your mask once more. as you were finishing up, there was a knock at the door.

“boss?” you called out. no way, he had the code right? you walk towards the door, your belongings in hand and open it. sure enough, your best friend standing at the door.

“oh, it’s you,” you say casually, giving a faint smile.

“damn bitch can you be less excited pretty please? you’re overwhelming me.” she teased sarcastically. she was wearing a change of clothes too but she still had on her mask.

“you’re done right? your bunny boy told me you would be up here.”

you let out a dry laugh. so he could tell her but he couldn’t say anything as he was leaving? you know what, fuck that. you can be super casual too.

“yup!” you say popping the p, you exit the room and close the door behind you. your best friend takes your free hand and you both walk down the steps together.

you quietly dip out of the mansion through the front door, making your way to her car.

“can you drive? i had drunk earlier and i still feel kinda dizzy” she pouts.

“yeah, toss 'em,” you say about the keys and she does. you unlock the car and head in, making your way home as your best friend sleeps in the passenger seat, adamant about sleeping over at your house.

monday 4:50 pm kst

on her way home from work, your best friend picked you up and dropped you off at yours. you stopped in front of the bar. it’s large and luminescent name shining above, “purple rose.”

you felt queasy, nervous, nauseous, and anxious all at once. yet you also felt excited, a newfound secret to keep as yours. you entered through the front and made your way to the back, the employee room to clock in.

your fellow bartenders were gathered at the front. some sleeping on the table, others talking behind the bar.

“good morning guys!” you say in a more chirpy voice than usual.

no way you had become one of those people who finally get laid and suddenly you’re ms sunshine walking on a rainbow.

they noticed the slightly higher octave, raising an eyebrow but nevertheless, they said their fair share of greetings.

you start heading to the break room when one of the workers stops you. a slightly concerned look on her face.

“i wouldn’t go in there if i were you, boss is in a bad mood,” she whispered the last part, clicking her tongue.

what the hell could’ve happened in the last 12 hours since you had sex that had the whole bar walking on eggshells?

you smile at her warning but disregard it. not to see him, you say to yourself, but because you needed to clock in any way.

you open the door and are immediately met with a pacing jeonghan. he looked disheveled, handsome, but still disheveled. as if he didn’t get a wink of sleep.

he sees you by the door and motions you in.

“what took you so long?”

what was he talking about? you looked at the clock and you were exactly on time.

“i’m here on time, what do you mean?” you asked while setting down your stuff.

the atmosphere was tense as if you had truly done something wrong. jeonghan pauses in his tracks and starts walking towards you. he was unreadable, you couldn’t tell what he was feeling at all.

“being on time is being late,” he answers, eyebrows furrowed, breathing haggard. he was a couple of inches away from you, far more than what was appropriate at work. his eyes fell to your lips before begrudgingly looking back up.

“so, what do you have to say for yourself?” he ask, almost in pain.

you were truly lost. was he seriously mad because of the time? he pulls you out of your thoughts, hand slamming on the desk behind you.

“i asked what you have to say for yourself.”

now you were seriously annoyed, what the hell was his problem? you answer, tone curt and firm. no longer wanting to indulge in this conversation or his presence.

“my apologies boss, it won’t happen again.” you spat out, tone laced with venom. you said it formally, not missing any honorifics and he caught this. gaze going cold before breaking out a smile.

he hung his head low, muttering a curse before looking back up at you. the night you spent together, the line that was crossed, almost as though it never even happened.

a mere figment of your imagination. ha, if only.

“it won’t happen again? we’ll see about that. come back out immediately after clocking in, you have front duty again today.”

and with that, yoon jeonghan, no, your boss left the break room.

leaving you in a complete state of confusion.

129 notes · View notes

cvrnelians · 11 months

Text

if the fates allow - chapter one

dark!bucky barnes x reader: As could be expected, you were just a tad upset about having to spend Christmas in a mental health facility. On the brightside, you didn’t have to spend it alone. Your friendship with Bucky Barnes, another patient on the unit, brought you a certain level of comfort during your stay. When you are discharged from the hospital shortly thereafter—and Bucky is forced to remain—you promise him you’ll be his pen pal until he gets out, after which, you’ll meet for coffee and catch up.

But when things don’t go quite as well as Bucky had hoped, he takes drastic measures to ensure that you remain the integral part of his life he always envisioned you to be.

warnings: stalking, kidnapping, suicide attempts, and non-con elements. proceed with caution.

(gif is not mine)

chapter two // chapter three // chapter four // chapter five

chapter one: losing time

music

🎄DECEMBER🎄

“So. I got you a little something.”

Bucky smiled at you expectantly, clearly very eager for you to investigate further. You raised your eyebrows at him. It was just so ridiculous. What could he possibly have gotten you, a magic marker from the craft room? A rogue oreo from the kitchen? There weren’t many gifting options to choose from. But then again, maybe he had a creative capacity you were unaware of.

It was only seconds later that you were presented with an origami folded together on the cheapest construction paper known to man.

“Is that…oh, it’s a dog!” you said, carefully picking it up out of his palm.

“A wolf,” he corrected you. “See how it’s howling at the moon?”

That it was.

“That’s actually pretty impressive.”

Bucky looked at you sheepishly. “I can’t exactly take credit for it. I asked MJ to make it for me. I tried to do it myself, but well…”

He motioned towards himself. You didn’t know the specifics of what happened to his left arm, just that there was an accident while he was deployed overseas. He was hesitant to be fit for a prosthetic even years later. He said he had a bad experience with the first one he had tried, that he felt like he hadn’t healed quite well enough to be fitted for another one just yet.

“…you get it.”

You hated that Bucky was so diligent about letting you know what day it was. You already knew what day it was, but you figured if you pretended that you didn’t know it was Christmas Eve, then you wouldn’t feel so sad. So there you sat, side-by-side with your backs pressed up against the radiator in the group room. You were trying to derive as much heat as you could from that ancient radiator, but you knew Bucky was only sitting there for your benefit. It had to have been uncomfortable for him. He was always warm.

He just didn’t want you to feel alone.

“I didn’t get you anything, Buck. I’m sorry.”

He shrugged. “You can make it up to me one day.”

The gesture was sweet, so sweet that it almost made you tear up. You tried your best to ignore him as he observed you, shifting your focus towards the inflatable Christmas tree in the corner of the room. You were amazed that MJ hadn’t tried to pop it yet. She had been particularly bothered by the “tree” when she discovered it that morning. At first glance, she greeted it with a cheerful “what the fuck is this?”

You glanced up from your sketchbook (which wasn’t really a sketchbook. It was a marble composition notebook that you and Bucky had both been sharing for the last two days to write each other notes and play tic tac toe) and raised your eyebrows. “A tree apparently.”

“No, it’s not,” she said flatly. “Why can’t we have a real tree?”

Bucky sighed. “Isn’t it obvious? They’re afraid we’ll try to hurt ourselves with the glass ornaments or the branches or something. So we get whatever this is.”

“Come on, guys,” Sharon, one of the psychiatric technicians chimed in. “I think it’s cute. Cleaner than a real tree, too.”

“Sharon, seriously?” MJ scoffed. “This is insulting.”

At first, you thought the hot mess of a “tree” was actually kind of funny. But looking at it now—cheap and partially deflated with stickers and paper ornaments plastered all over it—you would have to agree with MJ. This was a downright shameful excuse for a Christmas tree.

All of it was shameful, really. Here you were, scratching away in your notebook with yet another dull pencil, trying as hard as you could to distract yourself from yet another painful wave of emotions. The “tree,” the “sketchbook,” the pencil. They all looked almost about as pathetic as you felt.

Almost.

Bucky was eyeing you carefully, just as he always did. You had a few friends in the past that were pretty empathetic. Bucky, though…

He was on a whole different level.

He was particularly perceptive when it came to picking up on others’ emotions, namely yours. When you first arrived on the unit, you felt an instant kinship with him. You weren’t sure what he was like with people on the outside, but any time you were together, you felt like the only person in the room. It was equal parts comforting and unnerving. He shone a light on things you weren’t willing to say, things most people preferred to ignore. You wondered if that sense of intuition had anything to do with his military training, with his PTSD. It had to have been. Or maybe he was just always like that and those things amplified what was already there. You would never know for sure.

Sharon sat on the bench nearest to the door, fully absorbed in her sudoku book. You turned to look out the window, slowly clenching and unclenching your fists as you tried to hold back tears. It was snowing outside. Not the ugly kind of snow, either. It looked soft, like it would be easy to shovel or build a snowman with. Was it sad that you would be more than willing to shovel the parking lot just to have an excuse to go outside?

Tomorrow would mark six months since your mother passed away. Half a year. You hadn’t seen or spoken to your mother in half a year. Worse yet, tomorrow was her birthday.

It should’ve been, anyway.

Before you could stop yourself, you let out a sob that clearly startled Bucky. Your voice sounded strange and shallow, and as you continued to cry, you began to breathe faster and faster. It didn’t take long before tears were streaming down your face uncontrollably.

“Hey, hey, no! Come on, don’t do that,” Bucky said, turning to face you. “Hey, come on. Don’t cry.”

You shook your head, raising both hands to cover your face. Your notebook slid to the floor, the pencil rolling across the room until it bumped up against the inflatable tree. The notebook and your new gift fell to your side. You felt resistance against your fingers, like Bucky was trying to pry them away from your eyes, but you kept leaning further and further away from him. You curled yourself up closer into the corner of the wall, pressing your forehead up against the cool glass of the windowpane. Your chest was starting to hurt from the hyperventilation.

Bucky closed in on you, his chest pressed up against your back as he rested his chin in the crook of your neck. He had never been that close to you before.

Shannon immediately perked up. “James, back up right now. Don’t touch her.”

Bucky ignored her, hooking his arm around you and squeezing onto you even tighter. “Shhh. Come on, cheer up. It’s not so bad.”

After a great deal of squirming, he finally managed to pull your hands away from your face. You turned your gaze towards him and he nodded towards the window.

“See, you’ve got the nice view of all the snow out there, you’ve got your new Christmas present, you’ve got your book here.”

“Our book,” you corrected him, your voice thick and pitiful.

“Ah, there she is,” he chuckled. “Our book. And, uh, you’ve got the…you’ve got the tree.”

You let out a sound that was halfway between a sob and a laugh. You felt unbearably hot, and Bucky was only making it worse with his warmth. Somehow, though, you didn’t mind. You clung onto him even tighter, a wave of exhaustion rushing over you. You wanted to melt into that exhaustion, into that warmth.

“You’ve got, uh…”

You suddenly felt pressure against your arms, someone’s fingers pressing into them. They were attempting to shake you away from Bucky’s grasp, but he wouldn’t budge.

“James, get off her now!” Sharon yelled.

“Sharon, h-he’s fine,” you stuttered, clutching onto his shirt. You were coughing, struggling to breathe as she yanked on your arms. “Seriously, he’s—”

“No, he’s not. Boundaries, James!” she shouted. “We’ve talked about this! Scott, get in here!"

“Let’s see what else,” Bucky continued, his voice low and soothing in comparison to the yelling reverberating off the walls. “We’ve got Sharon over here, our babysitter.”

Maybe it was the way he was joking around with you, maybe it was his warmth, maybe it was finally getting the chance to experience intimate human contact in such a confined, depressing place. Maybe it was the intention behind it all, a genuine attempt at comforting you. The concentrated effort to get you to stop crying. You weren’t quite sure. But in that moment, you were struck by something you thought had withered and died in you long ago.

The eager and persistent desire to live. To be alive. And not only that.

To be wholly, completely, fully alive.

“And I’m here. You’ve got me. See?” he mumbled. He was so close his lips were almost pressed against your neck. “Nothing to worry about.”

For just a split second, you actually believed him.

It didn’t take long for reality to set back in.

Sharon started violently pulling on Bucky’s arm. At a certain point, he chuckled and rolled his eyes, shifting away from you. Even with one arm, he was still ridiculously strong. He let his limbs go slack and allowed her to pull him up with one quick tug. Her eyes widened, perplexed by his sudden obedience. He rarely, if ever, did what anyone told him to do. You partially wondered if that was why he had been there for so much longer than everyone else.

Staff rushed into the room, followed by a few nosey patients. Once they entered, Bucky raised his hand up in front of his chest defensively, meandering towards the doorway as if nothing had happened. Much to your chagrin, he would probably be monitored more closely when he was around you now.

They couldn’t stop you from talking to each other, though, could they?

Right before he was escorted into the hallway, he looked over his shoulder at you and winked.

“Merry Christmas, doll.”

❄️JANUARY❄️

You hadn’t composed a handwritten letter in a very, very long time. You had a penpal when you were growing up, a boy you befriended at summer camp. From what you could recall, it had been a fun experience. You loved the anticipation of waiting to receive another letter, and the rush of excitement you felt when it finally arrived. The writing part was fun, too. You loved the process of filling Peter in on whatever was going on in your life at the time.

You would never forget how sad you were when Peter stopped writing back. You sent him three letters in a row before your mom finally convinced you to give up.

“He probably just moved away and doesn’t remember our address,” was her explanation. “Or maybe it got lost in the mail. He’ll get back to you eventually.”

You were all too happy to accept her version of the truth back then, delusional as it was. Every once in a while you wondered what Peter was up to nowadays. You once even considered looking him up on Facebook or something, but then you realized how psychotic that was and refrained from doing so.

As you stared at the little origami wolf sitting on your dresser, the prospect of writing to Bucky felt a lot less joyous to you. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to hear from him. You did. It just hurt you to think that he was trapped in a hospital during the most depressing month of the year. It was just so unfair. You had only been there for a few days, and you got to leave before he did. Granted, his situation was much more dire, and perhaps he only had a few more days left before they were going to let him out.

Likely not, though, based on the fact that he asked you to send him letters. That implied that there would be ongoing correspondence between the two of you, meaning he somehow knew that he’d be there for a while. You just wondered for how long. He probably wondered the same.

He was a “repeat offender” in that particular hospital, meaning he wound up there following a suicide attempt more than once. He had been a prisoner of war, and with that came severe PTSD. You would never be able to forget the sound of him screaming in the middle of the night, waking you up out of a dead sleep from several rooms away. Out of everything he endured, all of the symptoms he had been living with on a daily basis, he always said the nightmares were the worst.

“Hey, on the brightside, they let me have the room all to myself this time,” he had said the morning after one particularly rough night.

Bucky had been suffering so much, and for so long. He didn’t deserve to be under anyone’s control anymore. He hadn’t deserved it to begin with. However, you knew that his physical safety took precedence over everything, and if he posed a threat to himself, maybe it was better that he was there—as upsetting as it was.

To get yourself in the spirit of writing, you had purchased a set of multicolored gel pens. You sent three to Bucky and kept three for yourself. Yours red, orange, and yellow, and his green, blue, and purple. You thought he might get a kick out of them. You hoped he would, at least. When you were in a place that was so bleak and void of color, it was the little things that stuck out to you. They were ballpoint pens, not exactly sharp and lethal instruments, so you were hoping the staff wouldn’t intercept them.

You kept your first letter short and sweet, just so he wouldn’t feel any pressure to write you a mile-long response if he was tired or disinterested. You felt awkward and self-centered writing him a three paragraph update on your life, so you ended it with some questions about how he was, what he had been up to. That was what you really wanted to talk about.

As you went to put his name on the envelope, you stopped yourself short.

Bucky

Sgt. James Buchanan Barnes

You received a reply in less than a week. You were delighted to find that your wish had come true. He had been allowed to keep the pens. Not only that, he had used them to write to you. You thought your decision to give Bucky the cool colors while you kept the warm colors for yourself was an apt one. When you were in the hospital, he was always wearing dark colored sweaters, most of which were black and gray. He told you that when he was first admitted, one of his friends had stopped by and dropped off a bunch of clothes for him to wear. There was one blue sweater he owned that you particularly liked. You weren’t sure why he didn’t wear it more often.

He looked nice in blue.

Hey dollface,

Sergeant Barnes, huh? And here I thought we were on a first name basis!

How are things on the outside? Miss me yet?

I can’t even begin to tell you how much I appreciate you writing me this letter. Not sure if you’ll think this is pathetic or not (and even if you did, you probably wouldn’t say anything, would you?), but it gives me something to look forward to. I was having a pretty horrible day—and let’s be honest, every day is a horrible day in this place—but when Sharon told me I had mail from you, my mood was instantly lifted. It reminds me of when my pal, Sam wrote to me back when I was in basic training. That feels like a lifetime ago. It kind of was.

God, I feel so old lately. And I’m only getting older. I’m becoming more and more aware of that with every minute I spend here, the fact that I’m losing time. Wasting time. My sisters came to visit me the other day. I haven’t seen them in a while, probably a good year or so. You’ve only ever known me with long hair, but they were shocked when they saw me. They were absolutely relentless about it. It was strangely comforting.

Sometimes I wish I would have met you when I looked the way I used to. Back before all of this happened. Way back, before I was ever deployed. I was a completely different person then.

Although maybe you wouldn’t have liked me so much back then. I was much more sure of myself. Probably too sure of myself. I had a lot to learn.

You seem to like the person I am now.

I’m not so sure I agree.

I’m slowly but surely getting better. At least that’s what everybody is saying. I’m feeling a bit calmer, less jumpy. Even Dr. Banner can see it. I think the meds are working. They have to be at this point, right? The nightmares are still there, of course. Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever stop having those.

Oh, before I forget - MJ won’t admit it, but I can tell that she misses having you around. She made a little sketch of everyone on the unit the other day, and she included you in it. I might miss you a little bit, too.

Come visit me sometime, won’t you?

James

P.S. - Ever seen a decorated soldier write a letter in purple gel pen before? If I could roll my eyes in writing, I would.

Only for you.

this is a reupload of a story i wrote over a year ago. it's good to be back on this hellsite lol. thank you for reading 💌

#yandere bucky barnes #yandere bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader #yandere marvel

257 notes · View notes