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empress-simps · 2 months

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Missed Hints

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Fem! Reader CW: Language Genre: Fluff Summary: Remus Lupin wanted to make his feelings known; he is trying numerous ways to tell you, but you are simply quite oblivious to the poor boy’s advances.

Note: Am I a bit too obsessed with Rems? Probably. This one's a bit shorter than the rest. Enjoy reading! Pictures used are from Pinterest, credits to the owners!

Sometimes, all Remus wanted to do was run into a wall to knock himself out.

Maybe it’ll help formulate a reason why you couldn’t pick up his signals and actions that he wants to be more than friends. Please cut this poor boy some slack; he’s literally done everything he could to hint that he likes you.

The problem is that you are quite oblivious- being as dense as the castle walls in Hogwarts. Although this hasn’t stopped Remus from pursuing you after several pitiful (also quite funny) attempts, if anything, it made him work even harder to let you know he fancies you.

“Y/n, wait up!” Remus calls out to you, leaving his mates, who were whispering words of encouragement and ‘good luck’ to him. Hearing your name made you turn around, a book in your hand, as you smiled at the taller boy. “Remus, hi!” He smiled, walking beside you and settling in at the same pace as you. Suddenly, a friend of yours piped up, “Y/n, we have to go get something in the dorms; stay with Remus, yeah?” before you could even reply, they were rushing to leave. Remus could only blush as your friends shot him a thumbs up before escaping the scene, trying to stop the giggles escaping their mouths.

It was all up to him now.

“Erm, so how were the holidays?” he asked, trying to act casually as he placed his hands in his pockets. The question made you hum, your eyes lit up. "Oh, it was wonderful! We spent the holidays in Canada, lots of snow, I made a snow man and visited some parks.” She nods, holding her book closer to her chest, seemingly lost in thought. “It was also freezing.” Remus hums in agreement. “Is that so? I’m glad you had fun.” He smiles, and you both walk towards the great hall to have dinner.

You looked up at him with a bright smile and said, “Tell me about yours, Rems! I’m sure it was also fun.” Remus blushed, hearing his nickname roll off your tongue so casually. Even after all the years you’ve known each other, simply calling him by his nickname that you specially made for him has an effect that never faded away. “Well, it was just simple, really. I just stayed at James’ and had fun.” He shrugged his shoulders, smiling at you. He could care less about his holiday shenanigans, preferring you just talk his ear off about every little thing you did, he will absorb what you say word by word, like a sponge.

"Well, James is quite an interesting person.” She hummed in agreement, Remus felt his eyebrow twitch, a small twinge similar to jealousy creeping up into him. What about him? Do you think he’s interesting too? Was Remus someone who could be worthy of your time?

“Yeah, that bloke was conjuring up some pranks to pull this year.”

You let out a small giggle and oh merlin please take the poor boy to Madame Pomfrey because he thinks his poor heart can’t handle all the feelings he has towards you. Remus Lupin is such a simp.

He clears his throat, trying to muster up some courage as he asks you the million-galleon question. “So, are you free tomorrow? It’s Hogsmeade day.” Remus smiles, thankfully, his clammy hands are kept under his pockets, making his nervousness almost unnoticeable. Your eyes lit up “Oh! I forgot, but yes, I am free tomorrow.” Remus saw his chance and took it. “Great, how about we hang out in Three Broomsticks?”

For Merlin’s sake, please make this turn into Lupin’s favor. He’s done too many ways to confess to your clueless self.

“That would be fantastic! I can bring my friends along, and you can bring James, Sirius, and Peter too!” you clapped your hands excitedly, not noticing how the werewolf visibly deflated as you exclaimed. Right, might as well reject him right now on the spot to end his misery.

He could probably shout “I love you” and stare at you directly- but you’ll just think he’s talking to someone behind you. Remus had also tried to pass you a note containing his feelings for you back then. Grabbing it without much of a thought, you passed it to your friend, thinking he wants you to give it to her, who shakes her head and sighs, looking at Remus.

The rest of the Marauders and your friends think Remus’s plans of confessing to you were a lost cause.

“Our poor Moony…” Peter frowns, as James shakes his head. “At this point, Moony should just kiss her.” Sirius sighed, feeling pity for his friend. “She would probably think it was a friendly kiss.” Peter snorts, trying to control his laughter, James glared at Sirius jokingly before pushing him. “Bugger off Pads, Y/N’s just… super innocent? I guess.” They resumed watching the two from a distance, a look of anticipation evident in their faces.

“I was kind of hoping it’ll be just us?” Remus grins nervously, sitting beside you as you reach the Gryffindor table. You took a bite out of the apple pie from your plate before replying, “Sure, it’ll still be fun. You’re a great company, Rems.” She smiles, before resuming on eating the remaining apple pie slice. Little do you know the simple compliment you made had a tremendous effect on Remus.

“Moony, your smile hasn’t left your face ever since Y/n agreed. Stop it, I’m getting scared.” Sirius states, Remus turns to look, a hint of a small dopey smile on his face. “Hm?”

“Oh merlin, Y/n broke him.” Peter blanches. They were smacked upside their heads lightly by James. “Come on now, don’t rain on his parade. Moon’s just… well- over the moon.” James laughs lightly, Sirius snorts while Peter tries to hide his smile. Remus rolled his eyes playfully, opening his trunk to pick out the clothes he’s going to wear tomorrow. “Whatever, now help me decide what to wear, you sods.”

“Rems! Over here!” You exclaimed, standing on your tiptoes, arms up and waving in his directions. Remus smiles, maneuvering through the line of students waiting to get out of Hogwarts and to Hogsmeade. “Y/n! you look… pretty.” He blushes, drinking in the sight of you. Remus could swear on his life that he saw a light shade of pink dust your cheek as you tucked a stray hair behind your ear.

“Thank you, I like your sweater. It suits you.” You said, eyes going over his body and one of Remus’s signature sweaters. You can’t deny it; you like what you see, you were pulled from your thoughts when someone spoke.

“Oi! Get a move on you half-blood and goody-two-shoes! Holding up the bloody line is what you’re doing!” Evan Rosier, a Slytherin student complained a few feet away from you and Remus, Mulciber and Dolohov backs their fellow Slytherin and friend up. He snarls, those blokes, looks like they’ll have a new target for one of their nasty pranks.

“If I were you, I would shut my mouth.” Remus warns, standing in front of you, blocking your frame from their view.

Evan raised one eyebrow, amusement swimming in his eyes. “What are you going to do? Pesky little Gryffindor like you are always running around trying to be brave.” He taunts, moving closer to their direction.

“Rems, I’m fine. Let’s go, yeah?” She gently tugs the sleeve of his sweater, he looks down at you, his expression softening. “Alright then.” He threw one last warning look at Rosier over his shoulder; that punk needs to just wait and see what’s going to come and bite his ass.

The two of you are sitting in the Three Broomsticks, talking about basically anything under the sun. Well, you mostly talked while Remus just listens, humming and sometimes sharing his two cents on the topic you are on.

“Rems, thank you.”

Remus’ eyebrows shot up in confusion, “Thank you? What for?”

“Earlier, Evan Rosier.”

“Ah, that prick. It was nothing, y/n.” He offers a gentle smile; he wants to touch your hand that was directly across his from the table but ultimately deciding against it, the last thing he wants to do is make you feel uncomfortable.

“Thank you for being my friend. You’re an amazing person who deserves the world.” She smiles, slowly taking his hand onto hers and squeezing it tightly.

He felt a crack in his heart. “Yeah, you are too.” He managed to choke out, offering a wry smile.

Friends. Is that it? Is he just one of the many friends you have in your life? Is he a friend that will slowly drift away after you graduate from Hogwarts? Merlin, he would even count himself lucky if you invited him to be at your wedding, and if he wants to push his luck then he might even be the godfather to one of your future kids.

You furrowed your brows, “Is there something wrong, Rems?” He looks at you, quickly shaking his head. “Nothing’s wrong. Why do you ask?” You hummed, “Well, you have this kind of haunted look on you when you’re bothered about something; you’re doing it right now.”

Remus blinks, even he himself wasn’t aware of that. He closed his eyes and sighed; fuck it. He’ll push his luck to the extremes by confessing his love for you. Doesn’t matter if you see him as just a friend, you deserve to know.

“Y/n, I have to tell you something.”

“Of course. What would that be?”

“Well, I don’t know how to tell you this without being upfront about it…” He starts, you urged him to continue; well, here goes nothing.

“Y/n, I-“

“Two butterbeers, correct?”

Remus wants to pull his hair out of frustration as the server walked towards them and set down the butterbeers they ordered, interrupting his speech. You smiled, thanking them before turning to Remus, who was frowning.

“What was it you were trying to say, Rems?” You asked, sipping your butterbeer.

“I like you, a lot. Ever since we met.” He simply blurts out quickly, as if he’s scared someone is going to interrupt again. You blink slowly, setting your butterbeer down gently.

“I like you too, Remus.”

“No- you don’t understand,” He shakes his head as you furrowed your eyebrows, utterly confused.

“I fancy you, love.” He emphasizes, taking both of your hands into his large ones, looking at you straight in the eyes, completely serious. She widens her eyes ever so slightly, her heart rate speeding up a bit.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I’ve always fancied you too, Rems.”

Remus felt as if the time slowed down, his heartbeat pulsing faster, eyes blinking owlishly, his jaw slack in shock.

Did he hear that right? Please tell him that he heard that right.

“I-I… I gave you hints, love!” He sputtered, “But you’ve just ignored them every single time!” She frowns, “I didn’t notice…” Remus agreed, “Forgive me, but you were quite oblivious.” A small smile was on his face.

“You could’ve just said outright that you fancy me, Rems.” She chuckles, a faint blush on her cheeks.

“If you like me too, then why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to force you.” She said, looking at the beverage in her hand. His eyes softened, “Force me? To what, love?”

She sighs, looking up at him. “I didn’t want you to force yourself to try to love me just because I feel that way for you.” Before Remus could even speak, she opened her mouth again, “I know you, Remus. You would’ve tried either way, that’s just who you are.” She chuckles, sipping butterbeer before continuing.

“You have a heart of gold, Rems. That’s one of the things I love about you.” She rubs her thumb across his scarred knuckles gently. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, the simple and gentle touch made his spine shiver.

If this was some kind of dream, then he would be more than happy to not wake up.

“Can I kiss you?” He breathes out, making you giggle. You stood up from your seat and leaned towards him, you can feel and smell his peppermint toothpaste fanning against your lips, beckoning you closer.

“You don’t even have to ask.” You closed the distance between you and sealed both of your lips with a kiss.

#remus x reader #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x reader #marauders fanfiction #moony x reader #moony #marauders #james potter #sirius black #marauders fic #harry potter #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #the marauders era

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shayyprasad · 26 days

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cool | peter parker

a/n: this concept was so sweet to me, and i had to write something for it. okay, so yeah, this is technically irondad + spiderson... but i wanted to add to it.

repost because this fic flopped with, like, 10 notes. if you look at the og, it says 700ish because of the prev notes of what i reblogged. interact with this fic, it's what keeps me going!

summary: you find that a brown haired boy is always at the restraunt you work at, covered with cuts and bruises. you're curious, so what do you do?

warnings: cursing, minor angst (not really tho, mostly fluff)

pairing: fem!reader x post-nwh!peter parker

word count: 1.5k+ words

you're working late, you don't normally. it doesn't hurt though, having a side hustle outside of college. with shit parents, community college is really all you have as an option, so extra money is welcomed.

it's 20 minutes until closing time, and you're the only one left. you've read enough articles and watched enough true crime to be at least a little paranoid. not expecting anyone else, you spray a table, wiping it down with a rag. might as well get started with cleaning, right?

so when you hear the familiar chime of the door, you've got the right to be suprised. looking up, you're greeted by the sight of a boy. he's got soft brown curls, and (you find, once you meet his gaze) matching dark, hazel eyes.

you wave at him and move behind the register. he looks harmless, but don't most men that have bad intentions? not that you think he's going to do anything.

you're just a woman. it's the way of life, this thought spiral.

"hi, what can i get you?" when he's closer, you can see the cut he's got on his cheek. it's dried blood, but still enough to make your eyebrows shoot up. in fact, he's got a bruise too.

under his left eye, and by the yellow-green, you can tell it's fresh. it's not your business to ask, well, it is... but you're only asking about his order. he runs a hand through his hair, obviously trying to tame it.

there's a leaf at the top, tangled in there. you want to take it out.

he sniffs, eying the menu. you've never seen him here before, and you've been working here for a while. now that you're looking at him, his eye looks swollen - like someone socked him. "a- a cheese-"

you're not sure where the sudden courage comes from, but you cut him off; "do you want an ice pack? or, uh, maybe frozen peas?"

he looks startled for a second, as if he were just now knocked out og this long train of thought. he pauses to touch his eye, "um," you can tell he doesn't want to trouble you, but you're intrigued now.

"seriously, it's no problem." (on the account you have frozen peas, then it would be no problem. if you didn't... a pack of cold, raw meat-?)

"sure, yeah."

"cool. er- stay right there." you go to the freezer room, rummaging around for frozen peas. it takes you a minute, and you're afraid there are none for a moment, but there are. triumphantly, you bring them back out.

he's standing in the same place, although you're not sure why he would've left. "peas!" you sing-song. handing them to him, you smile.

he throws one back, though it's forced and kind of hollow. you're afraid you've made him uncomfortable, or that you're too much. are you too much?

he squints at your nametag, "thanks, uh, gertrude?"

you're confused for a second, "oh, she's dead."

"i- sorry?" he tilts his head, now he's confused too.

"no, i mean, this isn't my nametag. it's old. like, super old. manager's dead wife. this place is too cheap to get new ones, so we, like, basically catfish people."

he nods, "okay. what's is it then?"

"huh?"

"your name."

you mentally smack your forehead, of course that's what he was asking. "y/n."

"cool. i'm peter. peter parker."

"nice to meet you peter peter parker," it's your attempt at a joke, paired with a lopsided grin. it makes peter smile though, so you consider it a win.

peter presses the pack to his eye, a wince turning into a sigh. oddly enough, it sounds sexual to you, and your face is heating up. what's wrong with you? seriously?

"okay, well, um, i assume you still wanna order something?"

"yeah. maybe just a cheeseburger and fries?"

"you got it," it's closing time, but you don't mind. peter is cute, and he seems nice as well. you're more than happy to stay around longer. "on the house," you say when he tries to offer you money, "seems like you had a rough night."

"no, i-"

"no sweat, parker."

you ring up his order, get it ready, and by the time you're done, he's settled at a table. "here you go. enjoy!"

you go back to sweeping, but you want to talk to him more. "you live around here? i haven't seen you here before."

"uh... not exactly. i don't come here often. i, um," he presses his lips together, "had a friend that brought me here. once or twice."

you frown, "oh, i'm sorry."

"what?" peter looks up from his meal.

"i just- well, you used past tense so i assumed you don't... aren't in touch anymore?" maybe small talk was a bad idea.

"oh. yeah. i guess. he's not really... around. he passed a little while back."

it's like your heart physically aches. "that's sad to hear."

"yeah. 's okay though, getting by fine. or- or better."

"mhm. it gets better. lost my sister a few a years back."

"really? i'm sorry." they're empty words, you've probably heard them a lot, he knows that. you know he knows that.

"thanks."

"yeah," it's quiet for a little while longer.

"so, uh," he pauses, taking a sip of his water, "are you still in school?"

"college," you pause, slightly embarrassed, "community, i mean."

"oh. cool. i'm at midtown. it's not, like, super fancy or whatever..."

you cut him off, shrugging, "better than community. and isn't it like so stupid, how they basically tell you that college is a must, and then have you pay all this money? 'oh, you need it for a good future!'" you mock, "aw, really? then make it free!"

you freeze, realizing you've gone on a tangent. "sorry," you say, flushing.

"no, it's okay," he laughs. "it's cool you're... passionate."

"thanks," you put the broom away. "um, i have to go take out the trash. would you mind... not stealing anything?"

"i'll try," he jokes.

"cool. i believe in your ability of self-restraint."

"cool," he says, matching your tone.

"cool."

"okay, that got weird after the, like, second time," you make a face.

"no, yeah, i agree."

"cool," you say, staring at each other in dead silence, before bursting into laughter. you hold up the trashbag, "yeah, so, one sec."

you push open the back door, tossing the bag in the dumpster.

he's so nice, you think. look at you, falling for a basically stranger. you walk back in, closing the door behind you. you notice he's done, so you throw out his things, cleaning down the table.

"hey, uh, when do you close?" peter asks.

you check the clock, "mm... 15 minutes ago."

"holy shit, really?"

"yeah. it's cool though. i was closing anyway, and the company didn't hurt. also... it looked like you needed this."

he looks down at his shoes, smiling, "yeah, no, i did. thanks. and sorry."

"like i said, it's cool."

"cool," you stop, "are you in a cult?" you blurt.

"um, sorry?"

"sorry, like, i just, you look... beat up. and i was wondering if you were in a gang... or something." you squint at the dried blood on his knuckles.

"uh... i am not."

"then how'd you get those?"

he looks conflicted, and you've probably crossed a line. "oh my god, i'm so sorry. obviously, it's not my business. i was just... curious."

you wipe down your last table, cursing yourself internally.

"no, it's cool. i'm..."

"seriously, it's not my business. don't tell me, actually. plausible deniability," you joke.

he says something, and it's so quiet, you don't hear it. "what?" you ask.

"i'm spider-man!"

"uh. what?"

"you don't know spider-man?"

"no, of course i know spider-man!"

"well, yeah. that's me. suprise." he says, doing a small show of jazz-hands.

"there's legit no way. i know i catfished you earlier, but that was on accident!"

he tilts his head, as if he's weighing his options. in reponse, you narrow your eyes at him, trying to figure out if it's one big joke. after that, it's so quick, you barely notice. something hits your hip, not harshly, and then you're spinning towards peter.

"holy-!" you look down at your side, trying to figure out what it is. you're tucked into peter, and you realize it's... a web. "no. way."

"yes way."

"why'd you tell me? now i can't plausibly deny anything! also, isn't this supposed to be a secret? isn't that the point of the mask? how do you know i won't sell you out?"

"that was a lot."

"i know. but it was very valid."

"i don't know. i just wanted to. you're nice and sweet and pretty-"

"oh, so pretty privilege?"

"no! no, of course not!"

"well, um," you wrap your arms around his neck, "thank you for trusting me. i won't tell anyone."

"cool."

his hands are on your hips, and he's leaning in, but you pull away, smirking.

"no kissing until the second date, i'm afraid."

"we're going on dates?"

"if you don't want me to broadcast to the world, yes."

"well, i would've asked to take you anyways."

you smile at him, enjoying the moment.

"wait, are those cameras?" there's absolute panic in his voice, and you giggle.

"those are fake. it's cardboard to scare people off."

"oh. cool."

"cool."

you end up kissing him anyways.

@whatsupstark@ell0ra-br3kk3r@idli-dosa@susvale@kdbsr-h@littlemsbumblebee @sflame15-blog @twinsunkithies @chocolateshepherddreamclod @one-piece-frvr7

#tom holland #peter parker #spiderman #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #peter parker imagine #angst

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imtryingbuck · 8 months

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I'm sorry

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

I’m sorry.

Summary: Readers the daughter of Tony Stark.

Word count: 1091

Warning: Angst, I’m sorry. Tony’s not a good dad – again im sorry. Death.

Masterlist

Being the product of a one night stand was something I was always embarrassed about. It was one night, one night he spent with a woman he barely knew or remembered the name of and nine months later I was born. When I was 6 my mum married a man who after a year gave her the ultimatum, me or him. She chose him so I had to go and live with a man I met a couple of times. I loved it at first but slowly became numb to living with him. Being the daughter of Tony Starks greatest mistake was bittersweet.

~~~

“For God sake Y/N stop asking! You know I won’t be able to. I’m busy”

“I-Im sor-“

“Get out!”

“Tony don’t shout please I’ve got a headache”

“Sorry Pep”

I ran back to my room with tears rolling down my cheeks. All I wanted was him to come to my school to watch the play I was in.

~~~

“Dad can-“

“Not now pumpkin I’m busy with Pepper”

“Bu-“

“No Y/N this is important. Go and bother Nat or Wanda”

Dejected I went back to my room to blow out the candles neatly placed on my own birthday cake I had made.

~~~

“H-hi dad I was wondering if you could come to my class to tal-?”

“I can’t pumpkin I’m going to be busy”

“O-oh okay”

~~~

“Dad can you come to my lacrosse game next week? I’ll be starting”

“Of course pumpkin, wouldn’t miss it”

“R-r-really?”

“Umhuh”

The night of the game I was ecstatic, at the start of the game he hadn’t arrived but put it down to him finding somewhere to park. I’d won the final goal, I wasn’t even bothered by my teams’ reactions, I just wanted to see my dad’s. Turns out he was busy having dinner with the team.

I gave up trying to get my dads attention after that.

~~~

Pacing the hallway of his office I gathered all the courage I could muster to raise my hand and knock on the door.

“Come in”

“Hi dad I was just wondering if me and you could go to this new restaurant in town, and well you see I need to talk to you about something important” I rushed out before he could interrupt which is something he loves to do with me.

“Slow down pumpkin, when?” He chuckles.

“Tonight, if possible?”

“Of course darling”

“O-oh okay meet you outside common room at 6?”

“I’ll be there”

For the rest of the day I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face. I cleaned my room, showed and got dressed. I made my way to the common room where I came to a halt.

“Going out with the family to have a lovely dinner at the new restaurant in town” Tony’s face was bright as he looked at Pepper, Peter and Morgan.

I was standing there watching them go into the elevator, frozen. I could feel eyes on me and that’s when I looked to see the Avengers looking at me with pity in their eyes. Before anyone could say anything, I turned on my heels and walked back to my room. I’m ashamed to admit I cried.

Months had gone by with little to no interaction with my father, the times we did talk it was awkward and uncomfortable for the both of us.

~~~

“-I’m really sorry Miss Stark-“ the doctors lips continued to move but it felt like I was under water and his words were muffled, I simply nodded along. Scrambling out of the chair I made a beeline towards the entrance of the hospital desperately needing fresh air. I tried ringing my dad but to no surprise he didn’t answer.

Numbly walking back to the tower, the realisation of how alone I truly was hit hard. And with the truth swarming around my head, I just couldn’t hold the tears at bay anymore. Maybe an hour had past when I finally wiped my tears and continued the walk back home.

There were screams of joy and excitement when I arrived, ‘happy birthday’ banners and balloons surrounded every corner of the place. Since I hasn’t even been invited to Morgan’s birthday party I headed straight to my room as soon as I hit the bed I was out like a light.

The following week past in a blur but for everyone around me they didn’t see anything different about me. Surprisingly it was Tony that realised something wasn’t quite right.

“What’s going on with you Y/N? You’ve been walking around this place like a zombie”

“Why do you care?”

“What do you mean? I’m your dad”

I couldn’t help the roll my eyes did. “Sure”

“Don’t talk to me like tha-“

“I’m dying dad, got a few weeks left in me so just please continue to leave me alone.” The whole room had fallen silence at my confession. I couldn’t stand looking at my dad opening and closing his mouth like a goddam fish, so I turned around and walked straight out.

~~~

“Tony, Tony we found her! Hurry up” Steve was panting whilst trying to get Tony off the floor.

The jet hovered just inches off the moss-covered ground when Tony opened the door and leapt out. He ran straight to the cabin that once belonged to his father. Knocking the door down he searched the small home for his daughter, when he came to the closed bedroom door his heart hammering in his chest, his hands trembled with every breath. The team stood behind slightly to the right of him all wearing the same expression. Nervous with a slight look of hope.

The creak of the hinges revealed his oldest daughter laying in the bed. Tony was never a religious man but in that moment, he was begging to God that his baby girl was just asleep as he took tiny steps towards the bed.

The team waited with bated breath for Tony and you to emerge from the room. That was until they heard the heartbreaking cries and pleading from a broken man. They bowed their heads and wept.

It had been hours since Tony had found you, he held you close to his chest crying and begging you to wake up. “I’m so sorry I f-failed you my pump-pkin, please come back! I’m sorry. Please. I love you. I’m sorry I let you down time and time again my pumpkin”

Tony’s life was never the same after the loss of his greatest accomplishment.

~ banners credit goes to @sweetpeapod ~

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gaysindistress · 6 months

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Hey my sweet sweetheart 😘 so I'm currently sitting in the dark as the power in the whole town went down and Id have the wish to have Bucky here with me. So there's maybe this idea where they have also no power at the compound and the reader sneaks her way into Bucks room cause she doesn't want to be alone and he prepares everything with candles and blankets to have all comfy so that he can cuddle you all night 🥺 aw this makes me crave him so bad 😞

Hey hey 💕

I tried to finish this yesterday but I got distracted when I got home. Anyways here it is! I hope you survived your power outage 😉

The lights above flickered for a moment before all chaos descended upon me. The generators cry out as they shut off and even the air conditioning disappears too.

“Jarvis?” I hesitantly call for the AI that I hated at first but later thanked Tony for.

“Jarvis?” I call out again but there’s no reply.

I can hear others down the hall calling for him too but they too receive nothing. Vision waltzes through my wall and informs me that the power is out.

“Mr.Stark has yet to confirm when it will be back on. He asks that no one disturb him while he works to turn it back on,” he states before walking through my wall again.

I curse under my breath and flop myself onto my bed. I had been working on a mission report but seeing as the power is out and therefore the wifi, it doesn’t look like I’ll be doing anymore work.

Usually Tony is quick to get things up and running again however this new compound is significantly larger than Stark Tower. There may only be 3 stories to power however it spans across 15 acres, all of which contain various important power sources. I can only imagine how long it’ll take even with the help of Bruce and Peter (granted Peter may just get in the way but it’s the thought that counts.)

The reality of sitting alone in the dark for an indefinite amount of time starts to weigh on me and it’s been less than a minute. It’s not that I’m afraid of the dark, I’m just afraid of what’s IN the dark and being alone without a way to call for help isn’t where I want to be.

I slide out of bed, wrapped up in a blanket like it’s my armor and book it to the door. Popping my head out, I spot Wanda and Natasha walking towards me.

“We’re having a game night in the living room. You should come with us,” Wanda excitedly tells me but Natasha is quick to give me the answer I really want.

“He was in his room when we walked past,” she says with a faint smile.

“Thank you. Maybe next time,” I mumble to them as I dash past and towards his room.

When I come to stand in front of his door, I can’t find the courage to knock. I nervously shift on my feet as i hope the ceiling would come crashing down so i wouldn’t have to knock or survive this power outage. Voices float down the hall towards me and I know it’s now or never.

I gingerly knock, hoping that Bucky would hear and open the door before the voices see me.

The door cracks open and my savior looks at my wearily, “y/n?”

I wince at the harsh sound of his voice as the door cautiously swings open, allowing me a chance to slip in. I take it and tuck myself against the wall as Bucky turns to look at me.

“Come here,” he says in a gentler tone with his arms spread wide. When I don’t immediately take a step forward, he takes a cautious step towards me and waits. I almost knock him over from the force of me launching myself at him.

“Let’s get you into bed,” he whispers after pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

I barely nod in agreement and he’s gently pulling me towards his bed. Ever the gentlemen, he doesn’t try to remove my blanket and instead lifts his covers so I can curl into a ball under both layers.

He tucks his duvet around me before leaving and opening his closet. I can’t see what he’s doing but I can hear his gathering things and closing the door. Returning only minutes later to his position next my hunched form, he nudges my hip for me to move over. When I move, I can see that he’s lit several candles and placed them throughout the room. He doesn’t mention it as he crawls in next to me and wraps his arms around me.

“Thank you.”

“No need for that, doll. You know that.”

I move my head so I can look up at him and he does the same. I’ve always thought him to be the most beautiful men I’ve ever seen but the kindness and thoughtfulness of this moment confirms that. He is the epitome of beauty from his looks to his heart.

Bucky glances to my lips for a second and I do the same. It’s now or never.

We meet I n the middle, completely enthralled with each other and this moment. He closes the last few inches and captures my lips in a kiss. He shifts so that hes leaning over me as our lips move together, growing breathless. Pulling away, i smile at the man above me, delicate pieces of dark hair framing the face of this angel.

“You are the best thing that has ever happened to me” I murmur before my lips meet his once again. I feel him nod as our mouths part and his tongue slides against mine.

“And you are my light,” he murmurs back as we wrap ourselves up in each other.

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fic #marvel imagine #bucky barnes fanfic #request

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r0mantic-f00l · 1 month

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(sooo finally did it, sorry for posting late! just a fair warning, this is super sad, so read with discretion. also not proof read)

Just a Man

Sirius Black was pathetic.

Nothing more than a man who found delight in people's suffering.

In your suffering.

So you ended it with him. You did not know how, did not know where the strength and courage came from to put yourself first, yet you did know that the infatuation, the excitement that Sirius Black was, it faded. Like a mere illusion.

It was as if you woke up one day from a dream, or was it a nightmare? Is it possible for an experience to be both?

Every connection with him was cut off. You no longer talked to his friends, no longer possessed his shirts and vinyl albums and jewelry he had gifted you. You put it all in a box and left it outside his door.

It sounds as if it was easy, just leaving him in a heartbeat. Not loving him anymore. It was not easy, no. It was a battle. A battle with him, yes, because he refused to let go. But a battle with your heart too, because it refused to let go of him. Hope still lingered that perhaps all those things he would whisper to you in the midst of lust or drunkeness were true, were statements that he meant deeply.

You knew he didn't.

That's why you left.

But he couldn't leave you.

That is why Sirius Black was pathetic.

-♡-

The glow of the streetlight near to your apartment slid through the cracks of your window's blinds whilst you lied on your bed, reading a book that you had only begun a couple days beforehand.

Ticking of the clock that rested on your bedside table would distract you from your reading, reminding you that it was nearing midnight and you needed to get sufficient rest to make sure you would wake up the next day early enough to do everything you wanted to do.

However, the book was too captivating.

A knock on the door, followed by the shouting of your name finally dragged you away from the novel.

You knew who it was.

You hoped it wasn't him.

But you knew it would be.

You walked out of your bedroom and into the living room, where your front door was being abused by a repeated knocking.

Exasperated, you unlocked it and only opened the door by a smidge, a little crack showing two familiar faces.

Peter Pettigrew, holding up Sirius like a broken doll.

"No." You protested before Peter could even utter out a word.

The man sighed as he begged you silently with his eyes to listen to him whilst Sirius swayed where he stood.

"He keeps shouting your name."

"So?"

Peter scoffed.

"So he wants to talk to you, and he won't rest until he does."

"This is the fourth time this month, Peter." You spoke through gritted teeth, your patience running very thin.

"And it won't happen again. Promise."

It was an empty promise. Of course it was. Any promise made on Sirius' behalf always failed to come to fruition.

Yet before you could say anything further, Sirius murmured your name with his head hung low, seemingly too inebriated to recognise the door in front of him.

"I can't do this again, Peter. I want to move on." Subconsciously, you opened the door a bit further, the creaking noise gathering the attention of Sirius, who rose his head and widened his eyes when he saw your face.

He smiled widely, drunkenly, and cheered your name as if you were the answer to his prayers.

"I'll pick him up in the morning." Peter rushed his words out and left, making Sirius stumble in his footing and instead balance on the wall beside him, leaning against it as he grinned at you.

You sighed and fully opened the door, wrapping your arm around Sirius' back as you helped walk him into your apartment.

"Hello, my love." He murmured into your ear, the smell of vodka and cheap beer wafting into your nose as he leaned down to you.

You scowled and dropped him on your sofa, going to walk away to the kitchen to get him a drink of water before he held tightly onto your wrist.

"Where are you going?" Sirius pouted, like a spoilt child.

"Kitchen. Need to get you some water." You replied simply, and walked away when Sirius begrudgingly let go of your wrist.

The trinkle of water into the glass was not loud enough to cover Sirius' shouting as you stood by the sink, sighing as he spoke.

"Y-You would never beli-believed what happened to me tonight." Sirius slurred, turning around on the couch to face the kitchen.

"This girl, some random girl, came up to me and started- just started flirting!" He gasped out, shocked for some reason whilst you walked towards him with a glass in your hand.

"So, so I told her I have a girlfriend--"

"You don't have a girlfriend, Sirius." You placed the glass of water down in front of him and walked behind the couch.

The man grinned and rolled his head back, gazing at you with that typical arrogant, dangerous look.

"Yeah, but, I will do."

Your eyebrows furrowed as you crossed your arms.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Sirius leaned forward and took a sip of his water, humming as he drank it, and placed it back down as he turned to face you.

"Well, whatever thing you're going through now, you-you'll snap out of it soon." He smiled and ran his hand through his hair.

"And we'll be back together like nothing happened."

You scoffed and walked away from him, tired of his naivety.

"No, we won't."

Sirius chuckled and stood up from the couch, following after you.

"Hey, where you going, darling?"

"I'm not your darling!" You snapped, turning around to face him.

Rage filled your bones with the energy of your broken heart as you stared at Sirius, who only appeared perplexed, as if your reaction was unwarranted.

"I'm not your love, I'm not your girlfriend, I'm not your safety net to fall back on whenever you're bored and desperate and alone." You stepped towards him, watching as his eyes became clearer and his back straighter.

"I will never be any of those things ever again, because I don't love you anymore."

That hit something within him, Sirius appearing to become sober and shocked. And finally hurt by you. Finally he knew the feeling of rejection, of not being good enough.

"Y-you don't love me?"

You shook your head, willing away the tears building up in your eyes as Sirius' hands lifted to hold your face, but then staying in the air as if they did not know where to go anymore.

"I don't love you. Not anymore. Now that I know you're nothing special."

Perhaps that was too far, too cruel, but you wanted him to experience the same feelings you felt whenever he would complain about you to his friends, whenever he would flirt with other girls, whenever he would ignore you like you meant nothing to him.

You could see in his eyes that his would crumbled, could hear the shattering of his heart as he stumbled back.

"But you... you don't mean that." Sirius sniffed, chuckling dejectedly as he stated into your eyes. He half-expected you to laugh and say it was all a joke, or to beg for his forgiveness and hold him in your arms until the morning.

After all, he only came to your apartment for your warm and familiar embrace. An embrace that made him feel safe and loved.

"I do mean it. I've never meant anything more. I don't love you, and I want you to go."

Sirius shook his head, a tear slipping from his eye.

"No."

"Sirius, leave."

A sob broke out of him before he knelt on the ground before you and hugged your body, clinging desperately onto you as he cried.

"No, I don't want to leave, I-I..." He couldn't form words properly, sobbing with the overwhelming emotions of sadness overtook him.

"I can't leave you."

You shut your eyes, holding your head up as you fought the strong urge to sink to the floor and kiss away his tears.

"Please, Sirius. If you... if you feel anything towards me at all, please go away."

The man turned silent, his hold on your body slipping away slowly as he remained knelt on the floor.

The sight reminded you that he wasn't a saint, a god, a dreamer with the purpose of putting a little excitement into your life.

He was just a man. Nothing more. Nothing special.

Sirius stood up, his cheeks wet and his eyes red whilst he avoided looking at you.

He nodded, appearing to respect your wish as he began to walk away.

He took slow steps towards the door, leaving you frozen in place as you watched him walk away.

Before he opened the door, before he could go away for good, he turned back to you.

"I'm sorry."

Then the door opened, and shut.

And you cried.

You did not know why, perhaps it was the overwhelming emotions of relief and misery and love that made you crumble and cry, yet you did know that with every tear, every smile, every laugh and every frown; none of it would be as strong as it was with him.

-♡-

#marauders #marauders era #sirius black #sirius black x reader #angst #angst with no comfort #toxic relationship #Spotify

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yougavemeyourheartyouknow · 2 months

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Love me or hate me, both are in my favor (Miguel O’Hara x Fem! Reader [HS Academic Rivals AU])

Y’all ready for Miguel to finally kiss (Y/N)’s ass??!?!?!? Not proofread enjoy lol, I had a lot of fun writing this. I tried to be a bit artsy near the end it it’s too cringe I’ll probably delete it and redo it lmao.

Cursing, Miguel finally getting his shit together, lol he’s ooc but it’s okayyy lol

(Y/N)- Your name, (L/N)-Last name, (N/N)-Nickname.

Word count: 2.1k

Series Masterlist Series Playlist

Chapter 12: What a wicked thing to say, you never felt this way

—

You hated to admit it, but you kind of missed throwing away those stupid little apology notes from Miguel. Oddly enough, they had stopped appearing on your desk the day after your last little “date” with Spider-Man. Though you doubt there was any correlation, you couldn’t help but wonder why all of a sudden he would stop after what was about two or three weeks of nothing but notes after notes of apologies.

“He probably realized that you aren’t going to forgive him and decided to finally give up.” Mj’s voice sounded through your phone speaker, lying next to you as you laid on your stomach on top of your bed. Checking over your new manicure you had just received that morning, before letting out a huff as you dramatically dropped your head down on the mattress.

“Can we stop bringing him up? I don’t need reminders of his existence, not like I didn’t have enough reminders before…” You grumbled, you're sure if she was there with you she’d roll her eyes at your theatrics.

“I feel like we talk too much about you two.” She teased, the end of her sentence trailing off in a chuckle.

“Yeah because now that you're dating Peter, I can’t tease you about how you act like a nervous wreck around him anymore.” You shot back, picking your head back up and raising your brow, your smirk evident in your tone.

“Don’t be bitter that I got a boyfriend before (N/N), I’m sure spidey will ask you soon enough.” Your cheeks flared as your best friend tease, despite you starting it first you couldn’t help but feel yourself becoming a bit more shy at the mention of Spider-Man. You know not to take it to heart though as you let out a small laugh.

“Hey aren’t you supposed to be getting ready for that date right now.” You point out, having remembered that she mentioned to you during your last class together that Peter was planning on taking her to some movie after his photography club.

“Oh shit- you’re right! I got to go, I’ll text you later!”

“Okay bye have fu-aaaand she hung up, welp.” You drop your head on your bed once more after grabbing your pillow to place underneath you. Deciding taking a nap would be better than spending the next few hours doing something else, too tired from school to even attempt to watch a movie or tv show, let alone read or do homework. A sigh escapes through your nose, closing your eyes as you snuggle against the pillow, waiting to succumb to your own exhaustion. The white noise of your air conditioner running in the background lulling you to sleep.

—

“Maybe this is too on the nose…” Miguel mumbled to himself as he glanced down to the wrapped item in his hands, trying to compose himself as he stands in front of your dorm room, gathering the courage to knock.

It was almost embarrassing, that he was going to grovel at your doorstep in order to get you to even look at him again. He was already bruising his ego enough with the countless apology notes that you didn’t even bother to glance at for longer than a second before tossing them, let alone read. Still despite his… complicated feelings towards you, he’d rather you bruise his ego then anyone else.

His eyes came back to stare at your room number that was etched into your door, before nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

You were a smart girl, a very smart girl. Miguel knew that. So he knew he was potentially playing with fire with his apology gift, he knew more than anyone else how your brain worked, he knew that you could take one glance at it and all the pieces would fall in place. He just hoped that for one, he would wave away any suspicions that you might come up with. Worst case scenario you outright declare him as Spider-Man, but then what? You weren’t one to tell secrets, you weren’t money or fame hungry so you weren’t going to go off and tell the media for a check.

Miguel shook his head, trying to shake away all the possibilities that were now coming to the forefront of his mind. Close his eyes to take in deep breath before opening to them once again to stare at your door.

‘If I keep thinking about it, I’ll end up walking away, just knock damnit.’

Finally, with a sharp exhale through his nostrils, he brings up his enclosed fist to tap lightly on your door. The edge of lips pulling downward after not getting any confirmation that you heard his knocking. After another louder knock, his ears finally picking up the faintest of annoyed groans, making his tensed shoulders slip down just a few centimeters.

Miguel thanked whatever dumb constructor decided to not give the ancient dorm building doors peepholes, because if they did, he knew you wouldn’t have opened the door for him. That’s why he stuck his foot out to act as a stopper, preventing you from closing it in his face once you realized who had decided to interrupt your short lived nap.

What a relief to be able to see your face up close with the mask on to counsel his. Despite the fact that your fake polite smile quickly melted away from your face once you realized who was at your doorstep, leaving a scowl to come and take its place. Miguel barely had time to open his mouth before your frame was once again covered by the wooden door, his school assigned leather shoes certainly getting scuffed from it hitting the side of them. Not even wincing as you attempted to push his foot out with resting your weight against the door.

“(L/N), Come on. It’s been weeks, you can’t keep ignoring me. Just… I-I know I fucked up okay? You were trying to be civil with me and I… Look I’m sorry okay? I’m sorry.” His free hand came up and pushed against the door lightly, not enough to knock you off your balance or anything but enough to peak his head through the door to meet your glare once more. “You know more than anyone else that I don’t do serious apologies. Just hear me out. You’ve-You’ve already got me begging here (L/N), to just be in the same room with you so I can admit I’m an asshole. You don’t have to forgive me, just hear me out! Please-“

He was able to squeeze himself through the crack of the door, closing it before him and leaning against it as he attempted to catch his breath from his babbling, chest raising up and down rapidly as his pleading eyes turned a bit more intense, you took a step back and crossed your arms over your chest, letting out an irritated huff as you kept your eyes on him.

“Get out O’Hara-“

“I’m tired of you ignoring me, what do you want me to do, huh!? You and I are too intertwined into each other’s lives for you to ignore me forever. You know that-“

“Unfortunately.” You grumbled under your breath, rolling your eyes a bit. Miguel, now standing up straight, took a step towards you, a hand flying to his chest as usually narrowed and bored eyes suddenly turned wild and frantic almost like a confused puppy.

“I-“ he paused, letting out a huff, before lowering his voice down to just above a whisper. “I’m not going to leave until you listen to me please just-“ He stutters, taking another pause as his eyes flutter shut tightly, you haven’t even noticed that his eyes were turning glossy and red until he opened them again, had you ever seen Miguel cry before? Well if you hadn’t, this might be a first for you both. “Please (Y/N).”

The use of the first name between you both was rare, you had been in more near death situations then you’ve heard your first name uttered from Miguel’s lips. So hearing it with such… desperation… it made your heart jump up to your throat. Your eyes never leaving his as he took another step towards you and… oh my god… is he kneeling?

“Please I-“ He choked out, the wetness that was threatening to spill out from the corner of his eye finally came down, his hands reached out to yours in desperation, you were too much in shock to think about pulling them away as you blinked down at him almost stupidly. “I can't… take it anymore. I feel like I’m going mad.”

He was being completely truthful with that statement too. He was jealous of his super powered alter ego from getting more attention from you then he was just as himself.

You finally pull yourself back into the current moment, clearing your throat as you shake yourself to help gather your words, neither of you noticing during the whole ordeal that Miguel’s apology gift had landed a few feet away from the door. Tugging at his hands as a signal to get up and off the floor. “O-okay, okay fine. Just-get up Miguel, Jesus…”

You wanted to keep holding onto this grudge of yours, but how could you when you had brought a man who is twice your size and four times your ego down to his knees? Reducing him to nothing more than a crying begging mess. Simple answer, you couldn’t. Whether it’s simple petty or if you felt like you were truly ready to hear him out, it honestly didn’t matter to you anymore. It’s clear from his breakdown that he had suffered enough.

He let out the biggest sigh of relief, sniffing a bit as he finally brought himself back up from your floor. A large hand of his coming up to wipe away a few lingering tears of frustration once he was up on his feet again. A silence fell over you both as you gave him a few seconds to collect himself properly before he could start explaining himself. Finally, with a clearing of his throat, bloodshot eyes met yours.

“Look, I know that… we haven’t been anything more than tolerant of each other… but I should have never,” his hands went to find yours again, grasping tightly as if he was afraid that you’d disappear in front of him. “Ever. Said that stuff to you. It was… too much even for us, if I could take it back, I would. I have no idea what snapped in my mind to say such vile things to you, it was wrong, it was stupid-so stupid-and I regret it. Regret it more than anything I’ve ever done in my life. You don’t have to forgive me, I don’t expect you to. Hell, say the word and I’ll walk out of here and I’ll disappear from your life forever. “

You have honestly never felt so speechless before. Miguel has never made you feel so speechless before.

“But god do I want you to forgive, to take those words back. I'll do anything, and when I tell you that I’ll do anything, I mean anything.”

You couldn’t help the breathless chuckle that escaped your throat, uneasiness bubbling up in your lower gult, despite laughing being your first reaction, you could tell he was all but joking. Your tongue stuck out to lick your suddenly dry lips.

“I can tell you’re being quite… erm, serious, so,” you pause, inhaling the tense air in hopes it’ll help calm your nerves, “I accept your apology.” Miguel took a deep breath to keep himself from turning into a babbling mess again, he could feel that heavy pressure on his chest filling up, he could finally breathe agai-“but I don’t forgive you.” He could feel his airways clog back up, he felt like he was blue screening as his ears heard the words but his mind didn’t want to accept it. He wants to do nothing more than to grovel at your feet again for you to take those words back.

But he couldn’t, it made him a little happier to know that there is something he can build off of, still as he finally was able to drag himself out from your room after putting on the facade of countenance , he felt the need to release all his pent up emotions out. He wanted to cry till his tear ducts stopped working, sob till his throat felt raw. But he couldn’t get himself to do it, his body simply wouldn’t let him, refusing to undo all of his years hiding his emotions more than he’s already done in your room, you're the only one who could make him feel again. What was that book his class started reading last week?

He felt like he had no mouth, and he had to scream.

—

Taglist: @famouscattale @strawberryjuice9 @loser-alert @maomaimao @franceseca-the-1st @mcmiracles @mangoslushcrush @queerponcho @yournextbimbogf @tinybirdhideout @oharasfilipinawife @mxltifxnd0m @homewreckingwreck @dumb-gemini @cowboylikeevie @thedevax @codenameredkrystalmatrix @reader-1290 @laysmt (to be added click here)

#miguel o hara fanfic #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara au #spiderman 2099 x reader #astv spiderman 2099 #astv miguel #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 fanfic #miguel fanfic #academic rivals au #love me or hate me fanfic #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel ohara #miguel ohara spiderman #spiderman 2099 spiderverse

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imaginesfordifferentfandoms · 11 months

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Last Kiss

Click here for my masterlist.

Click here to add yourself to my taglist.

Prompt - ‘But I never planned on you changing your mind.’

Notes - Happy Speak Now month! Request a fic for any of the remaining Speak Now tracks, click my masterlist to see which songs are left!!💜

You could safely say that falling in love with Peter Parker was the easiest thing you had ever done. Everything about him was easy to fall for. He had been your best friend for as long as you could remember, for so long it had been the two of you against the world. He had been there for all the good moments in your life and you had been there for his.

You’d known for years you were in love with him, long before either of you confessed it to each other. You had thought of telling him for a while but every time you’d thought you’d built the courage to do it you always backed out, not wanting to ruin your friendship.

It wasn’t until nearly two in the morning on some random night in fall when you heard a tapping on your window that things changed. You awoke with a groan, not having been asleep for long but exhausted from the day before.

At first you weren't sure what had woken you up, ready to just brush it off and let your eyes fall shut again. Just as you shifted in your bed, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself you heard more tapping and sat up with a frown.

It took a couple of moments for you to realise it was coming from your window and you felt a smile pull at your lips, wrapping the blanket around yourself because the room was cold. You climbed out of your bed and pulled your curtains back to see a masked Spider-Man grinning at you.

You were quick to push the window open, smile dropping as you took in the busted lip, bloody cheek and blackening eye. Peter didn’t seem all that fazed about it as he climbed in through the window, quickly catching a book he had knocked on his way in before it could make a noise and closed the window for you.

“Fun night?” You asked as you made your way to your desk, pulling out the med kit you kept handy ever since you’d found out that the friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man happened to be your best friend.

“Yeah, it was great!” Peter grinned, causing you to wince as more blood leaked from his lips, Peter ignoring it as he relayed the events of his night, making himself comfortable on your bed.

As he spoke you gently got to work on cleaning the blood coming from the different spots on his face, knowing that his healing factor would take care of the rest and in just a few hours you wouldn’t even be able to tell that he had been hurt.

“Better?” You asked as you threw the bloody wipes onto your nightstand, along with the med kit, too tired to bother putting them away.

“Thank you.” Peter nodded, smiling softly at you before he pulled himself off the bed.

As he stripped out of the suit and opened your wardrobe for a pair of clothes you’d stolen from him months ago you fixed the blanket and settled back against the pillows, stealing a glance or two before he was dressed and climbing into bed with you.

The two of you had been sharing a bed since you were kids, back then it was fine, easy, he was just your best friend then but now, now it was different. It was harder to ignore your feelings when you were pulled against a warm chest, Peter’s arms wrapping around you, holding you close to him.

You were so stupidly in love with him that it hurt some days.

“Thank you for always patching me up.” He murmured into your hair and you smiled into his chest, smoothing your hand along his shirt.

“Somebody’s gotta watch out for Spider-Man whilst he’s saving the world.” You laughed, feeling the rumble of Peter’s chest as he chuckled.

The two of you were quiet for a while after that, your eyes had drifted back shut and you let yourself relax even more against Peter, selfishly savouring the way he felt wrapped around you, memorising the way his thumb automatically stroked soothingly up and down your hip, cherished the way you’d never felt quite as safe as you did in Peter’s arms.

“I love you.” Peter whispered into the dark, the words catching him by surprise.

He hadn’t meant to say that out loud. He hoped you had fallen asleep, hoped you hadn’t heard his whispered confession and yet another part of him wished you were awake to hear it. He wanted you to know that you were the one for him, that he’d been in love with you for longer than he could remember.

You were silent for a moment, not daring to move as though it would break the spell and Peter would take the words back, play them off as a joke. It took you a few more seconds before you were able to force yourself to move.

You shifted out of Peter’s grip only far enough away so that you could look over at him with disbelief on your face. It wasn’t that you didn’t believe Peter couldn’t love you, it was just that you had never let yourself think he could love you the way you had loved him for so long.

“Y/N/N,” Peter started, torn between backtracking or just admitting it all over again, thankfully he was saved from having to decide when you smiled at him and reached out to cup his cheek, your thumb gently brushing over his already healing cut.

“I love you too.” You whispered back to him, watching as he froze for a second as if he wasn’t registering the words before a smile broke out and his whole face seemed to light up the dark room.

“Really?” He couldn’t help but ask and you laughed softly as you nodded, Peter leaned in and pressed your lips together, both of you smiling too much for it to be more of a brushing of your lips before Peter pulled you even closer and kissed you properly, the kiss soft and slow as he cupped your own cheek.

By the time the two of you were forced to pull away for air, you were dizzy and breathing heavily, Peter resting his forehead against yours and feeling just as intoxicatingly dizzy as you did.

Your first kiss with Peter turned into two then three until you couldn’t recall how many kisses were shared on that first night alone, neither of you able to stop until the pull of exhaustion forced you away from each other and you were able to fall asleep in his arms, not having to feel guilty for how much you enjoyed it anymore.

It went on for months, you and Peter shocking nobody when you announced that you were dating. Aunt May pulled you into a hug and told you she’d been waiting for you two to figure it out since you were six years old causing you both to laugh and share smiles.

Everything was perfect. The two of you were made for each other. You weren’t surprised that nothing much seemed to change between the two of you, Peter and you were still attached at the hip both during and after school, Peter still knocked on your window more nights than not to crawl into your bed after patrolling, the only difference now was that the two of you could be open with how you felt and that you could pull him down for a kiss whenever you wanted.

“You look gorgeous, love.” Peter said as he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, resting his head on your shoulder as you looked at each other through the mirror.

Peter had never been shy with the compliments, even before you started dating he always seemed to want you to know how beautiful you were and yet somehow they never failed to make you blush.

“You don’t look so bad yourself, handsome.” You smirked, turning around in his hold to drape your arms around his shoulders, leaning in to press a kiss against his lips.

The two of you were finishing getting ready to head to Gwen’s, her parents were away for some business trips and since school had just ended it seemed like the perfect time for somebody to throw a party.

As you headed in you felt Peter’s hand resting against the small of your back. That was another thing about Peter, he seemed incapable of keeping his hands to himself around you, there was always some part of him attached to you.

You weren’t complaining of course, you loved that Peter wasn’t afraid to show you off, you loved the feeling of him close by. Peter had always felt like home, felt safe, you would never push him away.

Peter was like the life of the party whenever he walked into a room, he didn’t care who anyone was, he’d say hi to you if you were popular or not, he’d pour you a drink and hand you some snacks and draw you into a conversation if you looked left out.

It was truly a wonder how people hadn’t figured out he was Spider-Man, both of them cared so much for other people, always willing to take a hit before he’d let someone else take it, always looking out for others.

Peter headed off to get you both a drink and you found Gwen in the crowd, letting her pull you in for a hug before she immediately started talking to you. You laughed along with her, joining in with the group she was with and were only pulled away when Peter found you with two drinks in hand.

You smiled at him, continuing with what you were saying before you were cut off by Peter’s lips pressing against yours and you couldn’t help but laugh into it as the others around you cooed and giggled.

“I was talking.” You said once he pulled away, Peter grinning down at you as he passed you a drink.

“Sorry, you just look so beautiful tonight.” He told you, causing you to roll your eyes playfully even as you blushed.

A few drinks later and Peter stumbled over to you, a happy grin on his face, his eyes bright as he wrapped himself around you, nuzzling into your neck and placing soft kisses against your skin.

“Dance with me?” He whispered into your ear, placing a kiss against it.

You weren’t usually one for dancing but Peter kept pressing kisses along your shoulder and you couldn’t help but give in to him, letting him lead you to the living room which seemed to have been turned into a dance floor for the time being.

Dancing with Peter was just as intoxicating as all of thing involving Peter seemed to be, the way his arms wrapped around you, gripping your hips as he pulled your back to his chest, moving against you, his lips still mouthing at your neck whilst he nudged you to tilt your head for him as you moved to the beat of whatever song was playing.

Peter danced with you for a song or two before he was pulling away from your neck, trailing a series of kisses up to your ear.

“Let me take you home?” He whispered, his voice thick and heavy with want and you wanted him just as badly, nodding against him and letting him lead you out of Gwen’s place and back to yours.

You had noticed straight away when something shifted, Peter knocked on your window less and less as the weeks went on, the two of you were so close that you felt the loss immediately. When the two of you were together he acted differently, pulling away more and more and if you thought that was bad in public it was even worse.

Suddenly Peter, who was usually so open with his affection for you, treated you like you were a stranger. It was strange to go from having him always with you to him pulling away. You had tried to accept that maybe he just needed some distance, you did spend a lot of time together, maybe he just needed to be alone for a bit.

But after weeks passed where you would go days without receiving a reply from him, without feeling his arms around you or his lips against yours you didn’t know what to do. Something was obviously wrong but instead of talking to you about it he was pushing you further and further away.

Peter, meanwhile, was freaking out.

He had been swinging through the city, ready to call it a night as things seemed to be quiet and head over to your house when he heard somebody frantically calling out for him. His spider senses immediately honed in on the voice and he swung faster towards it, dropping into a crouch in front of a scared girl.

“What’s the matter?” He asked, scanning the scene for any danger but other than the girl's pale face and shaking hands there wasn’t anything out of place.

“Spider-Man,” she breathed out, looking at him in fear. “He told me to give you this.”

The girl held out a large thick envelope that caused Peter to frown. He hesitated for a moment before he took it off her but didn’t open it just yet.

“Who gave this to you?” He asked, watching as she shook her head.

“I don’t know, he just grabbed me and dragged me down here. He told me I had to make sure you got that or he’d hurt me.” The girl began to cry and Peter shushed her gently, pulling her up and wrapping his arm around her.

“I’m really sorry, will you let me walk you home?” He asked her softly and spent the next twenty minutes walking through New York, making sure the girl got home safely before he swung a few blocks away.

He landed on a rooftop and sat down, opening the envelope and feeling his heart stop when a picture fell out. It was a picture of you with Spider-Man and when he tipped the envelope out he saw dozens more of the two of you together, thankfully each time he was fully suited and masked.

‘The itsy, bitsy Spider-Man sure would be crushed if something happened to his little girlfriend.’

Peter’s blood ran cold as he tried to run through all the people he had dealt with recently but couldn’t think of anybody who would be furious enough to stalk him and threaten you. He had always been nervous about mixing you and Spider-Man but you both thought you were being careful.

Clearly he was wrong and now you were in danger because of him.

Putting space between you made Peter feel like the biggest jerk in the world but he knew if he told you it would cause you to panic. He didn’t want you looking over your shoulder every second of the day, startling at every sound you heard and being too scared to leave your apartment.

He was torn. Being away from you hurt but he had to protect you. He never thought he’d have to choose between you and Spider-Man, you had accepted his masked side immediately but now he had to protect you even if you never knew.

“Will you stop!” You exclaimed as you tried to catch up to Peter, the man had gotten good at avoiding you. “Seriously, tell me what’s going on!”

“There’s nothing going on.” Peter insisted as he stopped walking to let you catch up to him.

“Don’t lie to me, don’t do that. I haven’t seen you in weeks and you’re telling me we’re fine?” You cried, hating the way tears stung at your eyes but suddenly you were exhausted, being away from Peter for so long was wrong.

“Baby,” he sighed, stepping closer to you to cup your cheek. “I’m sorry, ok, I just…you’re right there is something wrong but not with us.”

“Tell me what’s wrong.” You pleaded and Peter’s own eyes filled with tears as he shook his head, leaning down to press your foreheads together and just savouring the feeling of having you so close.

“I love you so much.” He murmured, leaning down to press his lips against yours, kissing you so softly, so carefully, like you’d break if he was too rough.

“Peter, please just talk to me.” You begged when he pulled back but he shook his head again.

“I can’t baby, I can’t.” He told you tearfully, leaning in to kiss you one last time before pulling away. “Just do me a favour please.”

“Anything.” You told him sincerely, worried for him and wanting nothing more than to help him.

“Tell me you love me.” He asked, looking at you with wide, watery eyes that made your heart break.

“Of course I love you, you know that right?” You asked and he nodded at you, his lips thinning into a line as he fought back tears.

“Yeah, yeah I know that Y/N/N.” He forced his lips into a smile, taking you in before he knew he had to leave. “I gotta go baby.”

You went to open your mouth but Peter just shook his head, murmuring an apology before he raced away from you, leaving you standing in the street, watching as he blended into the crowd of strangers.

If you had known that would have been your last kiss with Peter you would have held him close a bit longer, you would have made it last until you were both gasping for breath, you wouldn’t have let him walk away without an explanation like the many years of your friendship, of your love meant nothing to him.

But you didn’t know that would be your last kiss with him, not until you got a call from Peter whilst you were in the shower. You hadn’t heard the phone ring but you smiled once you sat on your bed, changed into a pair of clothes you had stolen from Peter, to see a voicemail from him, it had been over a week since the last time you’d seen or heard from him.

“Um, hey…hey baby.” Peter said shakily and your smile immediately turned into a frown. “God, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry. I should be doing this in person but I can’t, I can’t because it’d kill me to see you cry. I…Y/N, I have to break up with you. I’m so sorry, baby but I gotta. It’s for the best.”

For the best? How was him breaking up with you for the best?

“You did nothing wrong, Y/N, you need to know that. This is all me and God, Y/N, one day I promise you, one day I’m gonna make up for all of this but right now…just know that I love you so much, baby, I really do love you.”

Tears were streaming down your face by the time the message ended and you were left in silence, the only sound was your occasional sobs as you struggled for air.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to be, you and Peter were meant to be it, you were meant to be with only each other, that’s what you promised each other. It was always supposed to be you and Peter against the world.

Now you were alone, with no explanation as to why only a promise that he would fix it one day. You weren’t sure how he was supposed to fix this when he couldn’t even stomach being in the same room as you.

You and Peter had planned a future together, it was impossible to see it without him. You didn’t want to see it without him. You weren’t supposed to have a last kiss with him, he wasn’t supposed to be something you missed.

You were so set on a future with Peter, thought he was so sure about one with you that the idea of him changing his mind had never even occurred to you. You wish it had though because then maybe you would have expected this a little bit but nothing could have prepared you for this.

You didn’t want this to be the end of your story with Peter, this was never how you’d imagined it to end and yet there was nothing you could do to change it, the only thing you could do was hope that one day Peter kept his promise and made things right again.

Andrew Garfield’s Peter Parker Taglist (Click the link in my bio to add yourself!) -

@haroldpotterson, @rottenstyx, @powerpuffluuvv, @filmsbyblair, @cinderellacauseshebroke, @black-rose-29, @chaoticevilbakugo, @ppgrayson, @onyourgoddamnleft, @divanca2006, @siriuslyfearless, @levisbloodcut, @alwaysclassyeagle, @asherhunterx, @ordinarylokix, @carmellasworld, @ellabellabus07, @lokismidnight, @maeve-7, @apolysius, @jasontoddthezombie, @qfton, @honkroselyn, @inflatabledinosaurs19, @father-violet, @rosesinmars, @mystic-writings, @izzyyy-1, @lizamango, @beaconings, @randomwriter1021, @taylordidsomthingbad, @kaitieskidmore1, @aylauwuuniverse, @hydeonysus, @freeshavocadoooo, @writeroutoftime, @mrslizzyolsen, @kosmic-klouds, @idli-dosa, @allthingsmarvellove, @inas-thing, @xxchaotic, @standarizedpumpkins, @ukai-hoe, @lucyysthings , @cwritesforfun, @siriusstwelveyears, @myguiltypleasures21, @luluwinchester-blog, @polyglot-noodle, @bubsonnobx, @heyitsaloy, @eddiefreakingmunson, @eddiefrickenmunson, @f-sant, @fairydxll, @valluvsu, @sjprongs, @uwiuwi, @ellablossom-blog, @alexparkxr, @instabull, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @momoewn, @secretsthathauntus, @clairemsworld, @psychicbouquetgladiator, @evvy96, @pedritoswife, @iluvweasleys, @navs-bhat, @nashja, @alexxavicry, @annabellefrances1, @myeyesandheartadjust, @countryday, @pretty-npeach, @harry-and-ouis28, @spideysimpossiblegirl, @definitelykyles, @handsupforamiracle, @nao1800, @imposter-27, @hoplessromantic17, @father-violet, @lunalovegood156, @lazyxsquirrel, @bitchineedfuckingtherapy, @taygrls, @keorioq, @elcve, @soldierheart @ct-0113, @orchiidflwer @libraryofsweetpotatoes, @canty0us33, @missabsey, @dunno--what-to-put-here

Thank you so much for reading!💜

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book-place · 1 year

Text

Gift Giving

Warnings: mentions of explosions, let me know if I missed any :)

Pairings: Avengers x reader platonic

Request: Hello! I have a (small) request to make! So avengers x teen! Reader who I super shy and jumpy but super laid back and calm at the same time. They had joined the team a month ago and they've barely made any progress in getting to know the team. They (the team) have tried before but it's hard to have a conversation when only one person is talking (it also makes u super nervous and they don't wanna scare you). Anyways, it's ur first time spending Christmas with them and you wanna be nice and buy all of them presents. But there's a problem; you barely know these people and you don't want to get them anything they don't like. So you end up building up some courage to talk to Peter about what you should buy them. Tbh you just found him less intimidating. He helps you out with it eventhough he doesn't know much about them, he tried his best. And you both bond in-between the one week you spent you spent together buying the team gifts

Request by: @ladyagagaslefttoe

*not my gif*

Summary: You seek out the help of someone unexpected for advice on a certain holiday problem you were having

A/N: Welcome to day 5 of Book Places 12 Days of Christmas Celebration

Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work

Eleven words, that’s it. That’s all you needed to say. It wasn’t a big deal, you just needed to suck it up and do it.

You’re an avenger for gods sake, how could you go out into the world all the time, fighting off literal threats to civilization, but you couldn’t even muster up enough courage to ask the least intimidating member of your team a question?

You had been apart of the team for about a month, and despite their various attempts, you had barely said anything to them unless absolutely necessary. Every time they tried to have a conversation with you, you would shut down, get nervous.

To your surprise, they hadn’t even seemed a little discouraged by your actions, if anything, they tried even harder to bond with you.

You supposed that was why you found it vital to get them gifts for the upcoming holiday, becuase they hadn’t given up on you.

It wasn’t like you didn’t want to talk back and get closer with them, you did, but you supposed you were just too shy. It was no fault of yours, though, it was just the way you were, and you could tell your team was beginning to realize that.

Sucking in a sharp breath, you reached your fist up and knocked on the door twice before you could lose whatever little courage you had been able to muster up.

There were a few sounds of crashing coming from within the room, causing you to flinch slightly, only for a disheveled looking Peter to swing the door open a moment later.

He was looking over his shoulder at the what looked like a science project gone wrong as he began speaking, “Sorry about that,” He breathed out, “I think I used the wrong chemicals-“

He cut himself off suddenly as his gaze finally met your nervous one, and his eyes went wide.

“Y/n.” He breathed out before immediately moving to the side and extending an arm out, “Come in, come in,” He rushed out.

After only a small amount of hesitation, you stepped past the boy and entered his room, glancing around guardedly.

“What can I do for you?” Peter asked after a moment of awkward silence, rocking back and forth on his heels as he clapped his hands together once.

You cleared your throat a little bit, trying to get out the dreaded eleven words, “What… what do you think I should get the team for Christmas?”

His mouth snapped shut, all the reasons he thought of that could be an explanation for why you were there flew out of his mind, “You- you want to get them gifts?” He softened at the realization.

Slowly, you nodded your head, cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

He smiled gently, “I can go shopping with you, if you’d like.” He offered quietly.

Your head snapped up and your eyes went wider than you thought was possible at his suggestion and you choked on air a little bit, “You- you mean it?” You asked.

Peter nodded his head as an excited grin grew on his face, “I mean, I don’t know very much about them myself, but I would love to help still.”

Your cheeks grew red with gratitude, “Thank you,” You whispered, staring at your shoes that you were shuffling back and forth.

“What’re friends for?” He asked with a grin.

“F-friends?” The word slipped past your lips in astonishment.

His smile only widened, “Of course,” He said.

For the first time since you entered the room, a small, ghost of a smile graced your lips.

-•-

The elevator door dinged, and everyone looked up, expecting Peter to step out alone. Imagine their surprise when you walked out right next to him, looking more confident then they had ever seen you.

The small smile that you wore on your face immediately disappeared and you seemed to fold back into your shell when you saw all of them staring.

“Hey, Y/n,” Clint greeted from where he was lounging on the couch.

You gave him a small nod in return, turning your uncertain eyes to Peter, who gave you a smile and nod of reassurance, putting a hand on the small of your back and leading you to stand in front of all of them.

Nat and Steve extachanged a curious glance before turning their attention back to you.

“What’s up?” Tony spoke aloud what everyone was thinking.

Peter cleared his throat, gesturing towards you, “N/n has something for you.”

Everyone’s eyebrows shot up at the nickname, but turned towards you expectantly nonetheless.

“I-um-“ You stammered and Peter reached out to squeeze your hand gently, causing you to take a deep breath to ground yourself once more, “I got you all something for Christmas.” You spoke with more confidence then they had ever heard from you.

A couple jaws dropped in shock as Thor choked on his drink before grinning, “Presents?” He asked in childlike giddiness.

You nodded holding up a shopping bag before scurrying around to each of your teammates and handing them things that you had bought specifically for each of them.

“Oh, Y/n,” Nat breathed out, looking down at fuzzy socks that were her favorite color, “Thank you.” She said genuinely.

You only nodded your head meekly before moving onto Thor, to whom you presented a box of pop tarts, and he nearly wept with joy.

On it went for each of your teammates, them being so greatful for the thought out gifts you and Peter had gone out of your way to get for them.

“I don’t think I’ll be doing this again, you guys are hard to shop for.” The teasing words slipped out of your mouth without even thinking about it.

Everybody’s jaws hit the floor.

“Did…” Tony choked out, “Was- was that a joke? Did you just make a joke?”

Your cheeks automatically flushed in embarrassment, but before you could shy away again, large grins broke out on everyone's face, “It suits you,” Steve said softly, “You should do it more often.”

Peter came up behind you and rubbed your shoulder in congratulations, “Merry Christmas.”

Everyone echoed it back to him, even you as you reached up and squeezed his hand once in appreciation, knowing that things would be different from now on because you were now comfortable around your team.

We Are Groot 🤎- @lovanitu @jvdethirlwall @ineedmorefanfics2 @sambucky8 @spidyyparker @irethepotato @femalemarvelself @mukbee @its-hell @ip747 @i-writes-things @popfishjr @mitsuki-murakami

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parkerpeter24 · 1 year

Text

bloody love . part 1

pairing ➳ peter parker x reader

warnings ➳ hanahaki!au, unrequited love, no happy ending, heavy angst, mentions of blood, mentions of vomiting, fluff if you squint really hard, please read at your own discretion.

w.c. ➳ 2k

summary ➳ who said love couldn’t kill?

what is hanahaki!au? “the hanahaki disease is an illness born from unrequited love, where the patient’s lungs will fill up with flowers, they will then proceed to throw, and cough up the petals.”

idk if i really wanted this fic to be tasm!peter or mcu!peter but hey there’s gwen in it, so maybe let’s go with tasm sksksks

part 2 | part 3 | part 4

peter never thought he’d get bitten by a radioactive spider.

he never thought his life would come spiralling down to this. he’d met gwen stacy when he was a sophomore in highschool and now that he felt like he was almost in a place to start a relationship with her, he started to notice how you had distanced yourself from him. he saw you less and less as the days passed by. you were not at the basketball practice, he never saw you during lunch, or in the library, despite it being your favorite place.

it was as if you’d disappeared from the school.

or worse, from his life.

he came to your window after a long night and knocked just for silence from your end but as expected, the window was open, and you were familiar with him barging in at unusual times.

peter entered the room and slid the window to a close. He took off his mask and threw it over to your bed, waiting for you to enter your room any minute but the next thing he noticed was a drop of blood.

and another. and another. a whole trail of tiny droplets of ruby red leading up to your bathroom and peter’s own blood ran cold. once again he was alarmed, thinking of the worst possible scenario as he followed it up to your bathroom.

wrapping his hand around the metal knob, peter turned it as quietly as possible. and it opened up to one of the most horrific scenes he would have probably witnessed throughout his lifetime. you were hunched over the toilet, coughing wildly. there were the same droplets of blood over the toilet seat, a few bloody petals fallen over the purple carpet of your bathroom.

“y/n?” he called out in horror as you breathed out a deep sigh. you had emptied out all contents into the toilet but even with shaky hands you scrambled to grab the petals and throw them in the water before you flushed it all down.

“peter, what uh, what are you doing here?” you said in a quiet voice, going over to the sink.

“y-you had blood, on the floor, on the toilet, o-on your shirt” the brunette pointed out. you could see the look of concern etched onto his face and you looked away as your heart fluttered in your chest. you didn’t need that right now, “what’s happening?”

“it’s nothing. i just want some water.” before you could make any attempt to leave the washroom, peter was on his toes.

“i’ll get it for you! warm water, that’ll help you feel better,” peter said, walking out quickly, “while you should change and get into bed.”

peter never thought he’d be able to muster the courage to talk after he’d seen you like that. you looked in so much pain. he wondered what could it be as he let the water boil for you. he brought you a glass of lukewarm water and pulled your study chair so he could sit beside you.

you were now sitting on your bed, back against the pillows supported by the headboard and sheets pulled up over your leg. you sipped on the water silently, hindering peter’s questions.

“you never answered my question.” you were, however, the first one to break the silence.

“you never answered mine.” peter countered, his voice low, worried. you couldn’t meet his eyes even if you tried because you knew the concern in them would break you.

“you’re wrong. i told you it’s nothing.”

“y/n, i-”

“i’m fine, peter.” you declared before he could even finish his sentence.

“i haven’t seen you in school for a whole week.” the brunette opted for a change of topic when you seemed unwilling to talk about yourself. another wave of silence settled in the room as neither of you knew what to say next, that is, unless peter did, “a-are you sick?” his voice came in as a soft whisper, as if he was afraid to speak.

“i don’t know.” you gulped, breathing almost normally now. peter didn’t know if he was supposed to overlook those blood stains covering your carpet, “it’s complicated.”

peter moved swiftly, sitting down close to the edge of your bed, “make me understand, then. please.” his hand went and placed itself over your knee. your eyes flicked up to catch his, chocolate brown irises swimming in concern.

“peter i-it’s not that easy.” you pleaded, unable to peel your eyes off of his.

your caring best friend didn’t need to know that your little problem had started almost two months back. although you had known peter since sophomore year, you realized you were in love with him when he offered to drop you home after the halloween movie night had ended up being a little too scary. he waited until you were inside the safety of your room and waved him goodbye through your window.

but two months ago, you felt a sting in your chest, it didn’t feel like a big deal but over time, it started getting harder and harder for you to breathe. when you told your mom that you couldn’t breathe, she rushed you to the hospital.

the doctor had said it was a rare condition and the first thing your mom asked was if it was genetic. she told the doctor she’d been through the same thing and later when you asked her what had happened, she told you about how she had found a guy whom she really liked, but when she told him that, the response she found was anything but nice. she suffered for a long time until she finally decided to get surgery.

“but it must’ve still hurt?” you asked her, eyebrows furrowed

“i’d never have to worry about him anymore, because with the flowers gone, all the feelings are gone too.” she told you with a smile, thinking she was helping your case.

“but i- i don’t wanna forget peter.” you said, voice shaky as tears pooled in your eyes.

your mom wiped away the tears that slid down your cheeks before giving you a sad smile, “i’m really sorry, sweetheart. and it’s not that you’ll forget that boy completely. you just won’t feel the same for him.”

“but what about our friendship?”

“you can always re-establish a friendship.” she said, helping you sit up over the almost too tiny bed for dinner.

“it won’t be the same though.”

the next day, the doctor had told you to rest and take some time to figure out if you were ready for a surgery, which led you to this moment.

“i have all the time. i miss you, (y/n/n). please tell me what’s wrong. don’t cut me off, please.” each word out of peter was cutting through the wall you’d tried to build around yourself.

“i’m not cutting you off, peter. i was gonna join school from monday, next week.”

“oh. really?” peter asked, leading you to nod your head in response. he gave you a little smile, though not really convinced, “i was just really worried about you.”

“don’t be.” you returned his smile, “i’ll see you tomorrow?” you asked.

peter found himself getting off your bed, not having anything else to continue this conversation with you. he really wanted to ask you what was the fuss with all the blood but you wouldn’t answer him.

“i’ll see you.” he nodded, starting to walk away, but something stopped him in his tracks, as if he’d forgotten something. he made a swift move back to your side, leaning down and catching you by surprise when his lips met your forehead. the touch seemed to linger a moment before he moved back, just enough to look you in the eyes, “i’m sorry i’ve been a shitty friend. i’ll make it up to you, i promise.”

your entire face was feeling warm with the proximity and all you could do was nod.

peter gave you a smile before rushing off to your window and swinging away from you.

the next day you met peter with a smile, as if nothing was wrong. he returned your smile, wrapping his arms around you.

“it’s awesome to finally have you back!” ned chimed in from behind, causing the brunette to pull away from you, “me and peter were starting to think we’d just have to finish the lego death star without you!”

you chuckled, “there’s no way i would’ve let that happen now is there?”

for a moment everything was starting to feel alright as your two friends helped you catch up on everything that happened for the week you were gone. even flash was acting nice around you for some unknown reason, you thought it was probably because he too– just like peter– thought you were sick.

your happiness was short-lived, though, because as soon as you reached the homeroom, your trio found gwen at the door, “hey, guys!” she smiled and you tried your best to muster half of the one she gave you.

ned pulled you inside, leaving peter with the blonde girl, “come on, let’s let the love birds chat.”

you tried to act normal, ignoring the sting of pain that shot through your chest.

the first few classes weren’t as terrible as you’d imagined. peter had promised you that he would make up to you. you just wanted to look forward to that and not worry about two teenagers, spotting whom could lead you to throw up a garden of blood.

“i’m not gonna lie though, peter kept buying chocolate milkshakes everyday for you, it was driving me crazy.” gwen rolled her eyes sarcastically, making you and your friends laugh. her wonderful nature only made it hard to be mad.

somehow you kept circling back to yourself as the root cause of your situation. you should never have fallen in love with peter parker.

if only you’d never fallen in love with him, you wouldn’t have to suffer the pain everytime peter and gwen’s fingers brushed over the table. you tried to take a deep, shuddered breath, playing with the peas on your plate. your appetite dissolved further as the petals multiplied in your lungs.

after the last bell, you and peter were walking towards the exit when gwen called out his and your name, rushing over to the two of you. peter grinned and asked her what was up. the two of them laughed and talked while you found yourself standing in the corner.

“hey, maybe i should get going.” you suggested to peter, tugging at the straps of your bag.

“oh, no, no, wait just a minute. i will stop hogging him from you, don’t worry.” gwen chuckled, returning her attention to peter.

you just stood there, looking around, not focusing on their conversation really. you stopped listening after you heard gwen invite peter over for dinner over at her place. it was getting harder to breathe but you gulped down the feeling, just wanting to reach home and empty your lungs.

the chain of thoughts was disrupted when your eyes caught another sight of your two friends. gwen leaned up, placing a gentle kiss on peter’s cheek and air got stuck in your lungs, it suddenly became very hard to breathe. your throat filled up as you coughed, feeling that familiar coppery taste on your tongue.

“hey, y/n, you okay?” you heard peter ask but it was too late, blood was everywhere, in your mouth, thrumming through your ears.

uh oh.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

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two-red-lungs · 2 years

Text

I'll See You (In My Dreams) Pt. 2

Eddie x Fem!Reader NSFW (hurt/comfort, resolution)

Part 1: X

Summary: Okay, so he’s alive. Eddie Munson is fucking alive.

...So now what the hell are you supposed to do about it?

Word Count: 5.6K

Song Inspiration: X

Dustin Henderson knew exactly where you would be. It was 7pm on a Thursday night, after all.

He popped the kickstand on his bike outside the new Munson apartment and jogged up the two staircases in the near-dark, purplish twilight. Sound filtered from the window, from the ajar screen door: conversation. Laughter. He paused. He hadn't heard that laugh in ages.

Mustering his courage, he knocked. Wayne answered, looking down at him with a comb in his hand and a tired smile on his face. "Well, hey. If it ain't the kid."

"I thought I was the kid!" Dustin heard a voice inside complain sarcastically.

"You're both kids, to me. Come on in, Henderson." Wayne held the door open wider and Dustin slithered in with a weak, watery grin. He was already sweating. Nerves.

There you were. Eddie's girl. Smiling at him from the kitchenette and waving fingers in his direction before going back to grating cheese and liberally dispensing it over a full casserole dish. The tiny living space already smelled like a home, again: the tang of a preheating oven, burnt tobacco, steamed broccoli. Such a sharp contrast to the empty, dusty bite it had months ago. Back when Wayne could barely get out of bed most days.

"Glad you're finding a use for that stuff." Wayne said to you, shrugging on his work jacket by the door as Dustin sat uncomfortably on the couch.

"Hey, don't knock government cheese. It might be rubber, but it's good rubber. And I make a mean broccoli and cheese casserole with it." You joked. With a grunt you heaved the glass dish off the counter and slid it into the oven, shutting it with your hip and turning the timer dial towards sixty. "I'll babysit it until it's done and then I'll pop it in the fridge. I'll lock up when I leave."

"I don't know how I survived without you, kid." Wayne said. With a huff he tightened his boot laces and hauled open the door. "You take care, alright?"

"I always do, Wayne. I always do."

And then he was gone, the uncle with the tired, sad eyes tromping down the uneven metal stairs to the courtyard and out to the parking lot for his night shift.

You rested your forearms on the counter. "So what brings you to chateau de Munson, Dustin?" Even from across the room, you could see the way he was shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Sweating buckets. Round face pale. "...Oh man. What happened? Are you okay?"

"Nothing happened. Nothing!" Dustin said quickly.

"Bullshit, man. You look like you're about to testify in court. Spill."

"I have to tell you something."

"Oh my god. You have cancer."

"I don't have- jesus, I don't have cancer!" Dustin squawked. "Can you just sit down? Please?"

Warily you slid into the loveseat opposite him, glaring daggers at the young teenager. His curls were sticking to his forehead and he wrung his hands like a guilty man. He took a deep breath. Steadying himself.

"They day of the earthquake," he began quietly, "a lot of... stuff, happened. More than just earthquakes."

"Yeah. The whole-" You gestured with your hands, "-alternate dimension thing. I try not to think about it too hard."

"And you know how Eddie died."

You went quiet. A brave sacrifice is what Dustin had told you, shaking and dirty and soot-smudged. He was the only reason Steve and Robin and Nancy got a shot at Peter in the first place. When he had told you about the bats.... jesus. Jesus. You were thinking about it. You squeezed your eyes shut. How many times had you imagined it, already? Blood? Fear in those big brown chocolate eyes? You banished the thoughts back to the dark corner they came from.

"Uh-huh." You croaked.

Dustin pressed his lips together. Hands clasped so tight in his lap they were bloodless. "Steve, uh... Steve and the gang helped me bring Eddie's body up through the portal a few minutes... after. A bunch of government people were already there, to study it, and they, um. Caught us. They had big vans, full of emergency stuff. For the people they were gonna send through the gateway." He blew out air between his lips. "Like, um. Bandages and blood and defibrillators. They took Eddie away from us, and I... I stayed. I didn't want them to just disappear him, you know? Like he didn't matter. Because he mattered."

You stayed dead-silent, watching him over hands steepled by your face. eyes wide. They had his body.

"But they didn't bag him. They, uh... they brought him to a van. He was just... covered in wires, and tubes, and stuff, and... they shocked him. I watched them. And they, um..." He was speaking like every words was painful. "They got his heart going again."

What?

The clock on the wall went tick-tick-tick. A car passed on the road far away. Dustin shifted in his seat, staring at you nervously, picking at his nails.

“He’s, uh. He’s alive.” He said quietly.

“Eddie’s dead.” You breathed.

Dustin shook his head. “No, that’s no-”

“No. He’s dead. Dustin. You told me. You told me, they never recovered the body, and he died there, in that fucking- that nightmare land, you told me he was fucking dead-” Your mouth was cotton, heart racing in your chest, sweat prickling your skin. God. Oh god. “Why would you- why would you lie to me, I’ve grieved for him already, he’s not alive.”

“He’s alive. God. Shit, I’m so sorry, man, he’s alive. He’s alive.”

Dustin looked like he was bracing to be punched. Bracing for you to unleash a torrent of fury and resentment on him. He went stiff when you launched across the room and pulled him into a tight, shaking hug instead.

What was a word for what you were feeling? Relief? Awe? Incredulousness?

Maybe there were no words for this. It was too big.

And just like that, you were crying again. Mashing Dustin’s curly head into your shoulder, holding him like a brother. He wrapped his arms back around you. “Thank you,” you babbled, short-circuited, “Fuck, thank you for telling me, oh my god- oh my god.”

“I didn’t want to keep it from you.” For a second, Dustin sounded his age. 14 years old. Far too young to have been keeping this weighing so heavy on his shoulders. No kid should have to hold a secret like that. “Nobody’s supposed to know. Nobody. I wasn’t even supposed to tell you.”

With blurry vision, you pulled back, unable to keep that stupid grin off your face. Giddy, almost. Maybe god was a merciful entity after all, because this was the best gift you could have ever gotten in your life. “Who else?” You said in a wobbling, tear-soaked tone, wiping your cheeks. “Who else knows?”

“Uh, a government team. Task force, I guess. You. And me.”

“...Not even Wayne?”

“Not even Wayne.”

He hauled the whole story out again, in full detail. How Eddie was hospitalized. How an agent came to his door, in person, to tell him Munson was being moved into witness protection, under the watchful eye of Big Brother. The least they could do, really, after handling everything so poorly. And it’s not as if they could clear his name in any reasonable way, anyway. He’d get a new name, in time. A new identity. A new life, far away from the Satanic Panic and fabled Munson Murders.

Eddie was in fucking Washington state. Across the country, in Rockport: a little logging village with one main street and a population of three hundred. The safest, most obscure place he could be.

You stood, when you heard that. You already knew what you needed to do. It was manic and impulsive and stupid, but it felt like a fucking magnet, a mystical force, tugging at your gut. Hauling you out the door.

“You can’t go there.” Dustin said immediately. “Dude, no way.”

“Just try and stop me, Henderson.”

Dustin’s mouth shut with a clack. He paused. Fidgeted. “...Will you tell him we miss him? If you do find him?”

You fluffed Dustin’s hair with a hand, heart more at peace than it had been for nearly half a year. “Of course, little man. Of course. Now. Held me find a goddamn duffle bag.”

The duffle went in the front passenger seat of your beat-up Honda. It bulged with stuff pilfered from the few cardboard boxes of Eddie’s belongings Wayne kept morosely in the closet: his favorite black dice, a few well-worn band tees, a rolled-up Dio poster. His battle vest, folded neatly on top. Your own luggage was in the trunk.

When you rolled out of the parking lot with a paper map on the dashboard, a full tank of gas, and a big plastic bag od road snacks, the universe finally felt right again. Fiery determination sitting heavy in your gut. Was this short-sighted and idiotic? Yeah.

Were you going to find the love of your life because you'd realized losing him once already had been one time too many? Absolutely.

It was a thirty-three hour drive from Hawkins, Indiana to Rockport, Washington. You cranked up the scratchy radio and got to it. When the “You are now leaving Hawkins” sign passed, you flipped it the bird.

Endless roaring highway. Scattered trees and cornfields, city skylines and rural towns. Your fingers, numb on the wheel. Only stopping for gas, wobbling out on tired legs and stumbling into convenience stores for a bathroom break and more pretzel rods. Taking washcloth baths in the sinks at rest stops. Sleeping in the back of your car, across the seats, rolled sweater serving as a god-awful pillow.

Highway 80. Highway 76. And then Highway 90, for miles and miles and miles.

It was surreal, finally encountering the mountains of Washington. They rose, thick with evergreens like shaggy hair, into the sky, far taller than anything you’d ever seen in your life. Snowcapped peaks and underbrush so thick with ferns it was unnavigable. The highway wound and twisted with the steep, verdant landscape. It was only when you passed the sign “Entering Skagit County” that it really hit you: you were here. So was he. Somewhere. Somewhere.

“Three hundred people. Close knit community.” You muttered to yourself on your last trip leg, when the highway exit ramp finally gave way to narrow asphalt backroads. “How hard can it be?”

When you entered Rockport, a sleepy place that barely had enough buildings to even really count as a place, it felt dreamlike. Car engine off, parked in front of the single diner. Strange birds calling in the air. A cold mountain breeze drifting down the street and cutting through you.

You took a deep breath of the foreign, pollen-laden air. It smelled like pine and lumber. And then you shoved your hands in your pockets and slunk into the diner. The bell over the door rang, and four heads turned in unison to oogle you. Three rough, lumber-hauler looking types, and one elderly waitress behind the counter.

It was all too easy to flop down on a barstool at the counter. “Coffee, please.” You said weakly. She side-eyed you warily but nodded and headed to the pot. You knew how you looked: circles under your eyes like bruises, messy hair, chip crumb-covered jacket. A total mess.

“Rough day?” The waitress asked you, setting down a steaming white mug in front of you. You eagerly wrapped cold fingers around it. Autumn in Washington was achingly chilly.

“Rough three days, actually.” You rubbed a hand down your face: mmm, nice and warm. “I just blew in from Indiana.”

Her eyes widened. “Indiana, really? That’s one helluva trip. You headed for Bellingham?”

“Nope. I’m, uh. Right where I wanna be. Destination: Rockport.”

She laughed and wiped her hands on her apron. “Never heard that one before. Only people that come to Rockport are through-travelers and lumber workers. And you certainly don’t look like a log-yard gal. So. What brought you in?”

You took a long draught of the coffee. Old and stale, but infinitely better than the warm soda that had sustained you thus far. “I’m looking for someone. An... old friend.”

She raised her eyebrows questioningly.

“Moved in a few months ago, I think? I don’t, uh, have his address. Probably keeps to himself?”

She pursed her painted lips. “We haven’t gotten any new residents for a good decade, hon. Maybe you have the wrong town.” She tapped her fingers on the plastic counter, thinking. “Hey, Thompson?” The waitress called to a booth with an older bearded man nearby. “Have you heard of anyone moving in in the last year?”

“Nope.” He said gruffly. The man leaned back against the vinyl of the booth and stroked his wild gray beard. “...Well. Someone did buy up the old Merryweather place, ‘round five months ago. Come to think of it, I’ve seen a man at the general store couple ‘a times. Big, mean lookin’ fella with a holster. Buzzed hair. Not the friendliest.”

That was distinctly un-Eddie, but distinctly agent-like. You cleared your throat, clutching the coffee mug. “...The Merryweather place?” You hazarded to ask.

He nodded. “When the Merryweathers passed away, they left their home open. No next of kin, poor bastards. It’s just been sittin’ empty for what, five years now? It’s out west, end of the road, up the left backtrail.” He glanced out the diner window at your car. “Wouldn’t try and drive on up there in that, though. Terrain’s pretty rough. Might wanna to walk.”

Your chest was vice-tight. You barely got words out. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

With that you drained two more cups of coffee, scarfed down a slice of pie, and with well-wishes from the waitress and a handful of crumpled bills you hauled your bags out of the car, slung them both over each shoulder, and started down the narrow main street. Following the setting sun Westward.

There it was. Exactly where he said it would be. Nestled between high trees, deep in the woods, at the end of a long winding dirt road that left you panting and sweaty with the steepness. A ramshackle house with dusty windows and a rotting wood deck.

Your mind raced. Was he... was he there? Really? In there? Or was he somewhere else? What if Dustin had bad information? What if he wasn’t there, and you had come all this way for nothing, and you never found him ever again-

You squeezed your eyes shut. Willing the thoughts away. You were here, weren’t you? You at least had to try. Your shoes crunched on the gravel driveway, every step leaden. The house looked cobwebbed and uninhabited. No lights on.

Footsteps on creaking wood. Your body cast in shadow under the mossy eaves. The door, inches away.

“Just... knock.” You told yourself. “Just knock.”

You raised a fist. You knocked.

Silence.

You knocked again.

“...Hello?” You called. “It’s, uh. It’s me. Anybody home?”

More silence. And then, just when your lower lip was starting to quiver, a muffled thump inside. Running footsteps.

Several clicking locks unlatched, and then the door was thrown open with a gust of wind.

And there he was.

Eddie Munson stood in the doorway, chest heaving, chocolate eyes wide and mane of hair wild. Mouth hanging open like he was seeing a ghost.

You dropped the travel bags and then you were on him. You collided with him with an oomph, and god, he was solid. Tangible and real. How many times had your dreams taunted you with this? But now he was here, muscles warm under his loose black shirt and smelling like salt and sweat and old beer.

“Oh my god. Oh my god.” Was all he could say, and jesus christ had you missed that voice. Sweet, raspy, edible as caramel. Long, sinewy arms clasped you back, scrabbling at your body, pulling you so tight to him your ribs creaked. Eddie’s hair tickled your forehead and you mashed your face against his neck, already laughing: a giddy, stupid, incredulous laugh.

It was relief. Cool, gentle relief, like a clear babbling stream on a hot summer day. You could hear his wild heartbeat, feel his chest expand with each breath. You stumbled together into the darkness of the house and its cool wooden interior.

Eddie pushed away, grabbing you by the forearms, ducking his head to just look at you. “You’re here.” He repeated blankly, brows so high they disappeared behind his fringe. That big, pretty, megawatt smile on his lips. “You’re fucking... you’re here. You’re here.”

“I’m here.” You grabbed his face with both hands. Soft. Stubbly. Exactly how you remembered it, aside from the knots of pale scars dancing across his lower left jaw. “I’m here.”

And then you kissed him, and everything was right again. Sweet saliva-slick lips, his wet mouth, the tang of burnt tobacco. Eddie melted into it, a keening, hurt, hungry noise in the back of his throat. He pressed to you, bending his tall self down over you, shaking hands grabbing and touching and roaming over your hips, your shoulders, your arms, like he was trying to convince himself you were really real.

You couldn’t keep yourself off him: arms firmly encircling him, trying to press as much of yourself to him as you could, trying to fucking meld with him if possible.

“Missed you so much.” You breathed against his lips, between kisses. “Missed you every goddamn day, Eddie, so much.”

He made another noise like you’d fucking stabbed him. “I wanted to tell you. Wanted to call you so fucking bad. Sometimes I’d, fuck-” He gasped shakily when you pressed a sloppy, wet kiss to his neck, roving skin you had been without for so long. “-I’d get so fuckin’ drunk and just... stare at the phone. But they wouldn’t let me.”

You pushed his words to the side, hushing him, fingers dancing across his collarbones. “Whatever, whatever, Eddie, whatever, I’m- I’m here now, okay? It’s whatever.”

He pushed his head forward and kissed you again, and you sighed, soft and content. Kisses like fucking medicine for everything that ailed you. Eddie’s hands held your hips tight, keeping you chest to chest with him.

“You know,” He said, words puffing against your face, “If I’d known a fuckin’ confession would make you hunt me down, I’d have done it five months ago.”

“A confession?” You asked breathlessly, kissing him over and over.

His lips paused. You opened your eyes to see that watery bambi gaze looking down at you. “...Shit.” Eddie said. “Dustin didn’t tell you, did he.”

“Tell me what?” When he stayed silent, you rolled your soft body against his and he swallowed hard, throat bobbing. “Eddie, tell me.”

A beat of silence.

“I’m so fucking in love with you.” He blurted. Voice breaking. “Like, holy shit. I’m so... jesus, babygirl, I’m so in love with you it drives me crazy.”

Your heart did a kickflip in your chest. Those words were like butterflies. Like summer fireworks and cotton candy and orgasms and jager and the best top-quality weed all rolled into one. Maybe you were dreaming. Maybe this was a coma.

And if it was? You didn’t want to fucking wake up.

“Eddie. I love you.” Was all you could get out, throat so tight, eyes so fucking full they threatened to spill any second. “God. I love you too.”

He seemed hypnotized by the need, the want in your voice. All at once Eddie was on you again, wet, sloppy kisses across your lips and cheeks like he couldn’t kiss you fast enough, a big broad hand coming to cup the back of your head and tilt it up towards him. Your words were a babbling mix of pleas and his name and he caved so hard to it, body vibrating.

You were so focused on him, touching him and stroking his hair and nuzzling into his face and chest and neck that you barely registered him even picking up the bags and the two of you stumbling through the tiny house, across the wooden floorboards, into a bedroom. Setting sunlight cut dusty, bright slats of light across it.

When the back of your knees hit a bed your hungry, euphoric hindbrain took over and you grabbed Eddie’s shirt with both hands and hauled him on top of you, falling to the bed in a jumble, him dropping the bags with a grunt of surprise. God, his weight felt good on you: warm and heavy, your own personal blanket. Eddie laughed breathlessly, using a forearm to prop himself up over you. Pulling away from your hungry mouth to just stare.

“Hi.” He said warmly. His eyes sparkled and his hair made a curtain that separated you and him from the rest of the world.

“Hi.” You replied.

“I love you.”

“Love you back.”

The metalhead wasted no time digging fingers under the hem of your shirt, hauling it up and over your head, groaning when he saw your breasts. “Hello to you too, ladies.” He muttered with a snicker, nuzzling his nose against them. The sight made you cackle, affection so warm in your chest it was addictive. The warm affinity sparked to something hotter when you felt his jean-clad pelvis rock against yours, lovely perfect heavy friction over your crotch.

“Oh.” You gasped at the sensation. It felt good. Your sex drive had all but disappeared for three months, and for the past two all you had been doing was miserably getting off by yourself a few times a week.

You wanted more. Wanted him.

When you tugged at the hem of his shirt he put a hand over yours, pausing his slow rutting. Eddie licked his lips nervously. “I, uh...” He voice lost its bravado. “I don’t know if you, um. Wanna see all of that. Right now.”

The scars. Your eyes widened. Without even thinking you pressed a feather-soft kiss between his eyebrows, staring him down. “Edward.” You said seriously- well, as seriously as you could with your legs practically wrapped around his waist. “I’d love you even if you looked like the one-eyed, one-horned, flying purple people eater.” When he hesitated, you doubled down. “Seriously. You really think I’ll be scared off by a few battle scars?”

He smiled tightly. “It’s more than a few.” Despite his unease, he let you slowly pull his shirt off, over his head.

Your breathing stilled. “Oh, Eddie.”

His torso was a patchwork. His body was a patchwork. The knot of scars on his jaw paled in comparison to the swaths of carnage across his left pectoral and most of his lower abdomen: pale pink, white and red whorls of scar tissue, indentations and suture marks. A large tear, healed messily, on his inner right arm. You ghosted fingers over the sites: the skin was tight and shiny.

“I know what you’re thinking.” He said nervously. Trying to play it off with humor. “Those bastards took one of my nipples.”

“The scars are bad-ass, Eddie.” You replied quietly. “Very metal.”

“Y’think so?”

“Yeah.” You pressed another kiss to his forehead. “I do.” And then you rolled your hips up against his soft, half-ready erection and he huffed, his own hips jerking automatically in response. “Touch me?” You begged.

That pink tongue appeared between his plush lips, his pupils blowing wide. “Uh-huh.” He replied dumbly. “I can, uh, I can do that.”

Eddie was roving hands and roving kisses. Wet lips on your breasts, mouthing at your nipples over the fabric. Clever fingers snuck under your waistband, wriggling your pants off, undoing his own even while his mouth continued to roam. You got a handful of his hair, sighing and letting your head fall back against the covers when his tongue dragged across your lower stomach.

“Ohhhh man. Fuck.” Eddie hissed out when he ran fingers over your underwear. “Had so many wet dreams about this. Missed it so bad.”

You thumped against his head. “If you don’t touch me now, motormouth, I can’t be held responsible for what I do.”

“Pushy, pushy.” He said, pressing a kiss below your bellybutton. You could hear the smile in his voice. He dragged his lips down, following every inch of skin he exposed as his fingers slowly pulled down your panties.

“You don’t have to-”

“Lemme have this, baby.” He said over you. Another kiss, this time to your pelvic crest, his long hair tickling your sensitive abdomen and making your skin jump. “Lemme have this.”

Eddie’s furnace-hot mouth on your pussy wiped every logical thought from your mind. You let out an animal noise, completely out of your control: fuck, it had been months. His wet lips and flickering tongue dragging between your folds was euphoria. You could feel the sharp stubble of his chin dig into you when he lapped his tongue at your opening, spreading you open with clever fingers.

You were so sensitive, so alight, your stomach muscles were contracting involuntarily. You cried out, hissing and panting and sighing, hands woven into his wild head of hair, pressing his face deeper. So many memories, the good ones for once, came floating back: your long, sloppy makeouts in the back of his van. Picking up Eddie from school and kissing him hard in front of the other high-schoolers as if to say yeah, that’s right, he’s got a hot college girlfriend, motherfuckers. Eddie eating you out in the backseat of your cramped car, fogging the windows. Slow-fucking in his twin bed, Metallica blaring, the cold of winter storming outside the trailer.

“Fuck, Eddie, your mouth.” You whined into the open air when he suckled on your clit, tip of his tongue drawing maddening circles. One of his fingers slipped into you, easy and perfect and wonderful in your sloppy, aroused wetness. He crooked it. Your hips jerked.

Eddie looked at you from under his eyebrows, face already shiny with slick. Keeping his gaze locked on you while one finger turned to two and he pumped you, eating you like a man starved. “So pretty.” He moaned against your pussy.

Pleasure coiled in your gut, running down your thighs and up your back like superheated glass. “Stop.” You gasped, pushing at his head. “Stop, ‘m gonna cum, Eddie.”

He groaned again, directly against your clit. Jesus, he looked a sight, rutting against the mattress between your legs, sunlight turning his hair into a halo of dusty brown. “Mmm, want you to.” He said hoarsely. Those long fingers rubbed encouragingly at that perfect spot inside your pussy.

Christ, you were gonna cum. It was gonna hit you like a fucking freight train. “No, please-” You hiccuped out, nearly blind with pleasure, legs squirming. “I want-” You collected your thoughts when he lifted his mouth, looking at you. “Want us to do it together. I want you inside me.”

Eddie looked stunned. He dropped his forehead against the inside of your thigh and laughed incredulously. “Fuck.” He rasped. “You always know exactly what to say to me, huh?” He was off the bed so fast it made the mattress wobble, his cock bobbing and weeping in the air- jesus christ, you wanted that in your mouth- and he was hunting through your long-discarded jacket. “Do you still keep...” He rooted through the inside pockets. “Yeah. ‘Course you do.”

He held up a shiny condom package.

“Old habits die hard.” You replied sheepishly.

He jumped back on the bed, hair fluttering, ripping it open with his teeth and rolling it down over himself, blowing air between his lips as he touched his dick. The latex was bring and shiny, tight around him. You couldn’t help yourself: you scrambled forward and wrapped a hand around his length. Heavy, hot, throbbing. Just like you remembered.

“Ah. Shit.” Eddie whimpered, hips snapping up into your fist, fucking your grip. “I’m so fucking close, I’m... I can’t hold out, baby.”

“Don’t want you to.” You said. You crawled over him, shivering at the heady, addictive sensation of skin on skin, bare thighs pressed together, bare hands touching bare flesh. You handled his cock, flicking the head over your wet folds, back and forth. Eddie looked you were trying to exorcise him.

“I love you.” You said in a small, soft voice. “Love you.” And then you sank down, slow, so slow, adjusting to the white-hot breech, the throb, the perfect fullness. When you got down to the hilt on Eddie’s lap, legs wrapped around his torso, you started to roll your hips.

And it was good. So good. He reached so deep inside you, always did, mushroom tip pressing so perfectly against that soft spongey patch that sent lightning bolts down your legs. Your pussy clenched around him, his wiry, arousal-wet hair scratching at your clit.

He made an animal noise. A weak, broken, relieved cry: like he’d been waiting months for this. Eddie wrapped you in his arms and pressed you to his chest, thrusting up into you as best he could with you in his lap. His heart thundered against yours, separated only by a few inches of blood and bone. Pleasure spread like wildfire over your skin.

“-love of my fucking life, goddamn angel, jesus christ-” He was babbling against the crown of your head, squeezing you so tight in those arms you could barely breathe. The two of you moved in tandem, rabbit-fast thrusts wild and wet, skin slapping lewdly against skin.

You were going boneless. “’M cumming.” You barely got out. More of a cry than a sentence.

It did hit you like a freight train. Like a goddamn mallet. Wiping your world away, breaking everything down to just this, to his cock pressing up into you, practically kissing your fucking cervix, his heart thundering by your ear. Eddie jackhammered you through your orgasm, and just when you were starting to fucking writhe with overstimulation and ecstasy he followed you over the edge, foreheads pressed together, his entire body going rigid.

The universe, finally, after a half year, was right. And it was just you, and him, and sunlight.

Ten minutes later you were tangled together again, freshly showered. You couldn't keep the smile off your face while you toweled off his hair and pressed a kiss to his hand. He was so handsy: hungry for contact and reassurance, which you gladly gave him. You laid together under the bedsheets, naked and soft and vulnerable. You played with a lock of his hair. He looked at you with an arm tucked under his head like you were the center of the goddamn universe.

“Hi.” He said again, for the fifth time that hour.

“Hi.” You replied dreamily back.

“I really didn’t know if I’d ever see you again.”

You hummed, fingers drawing patterns on his hip under the sheet. “I already lost you once, Eddie. I wasn’t gonna let you slip through my fingers again.”

“Because you looove me.” He sing-songed with an airy chuckle, brown eyes crinkled, so so utterly fucking pleased. A cat with cream.

“Because I looooove you.” You called back. You pressed soft kisses to each other’s lips, little pecks. After a minute of the pleasant, tactile silence, you asked him another question. “How long do you have to stay here?”

“Mmm. Till they say I can leave. Some lady told me they’re getting me a new, fuckin’, entire identity, or some shit? New name, new backstory. The works. Like something out of a TV show.” You kissed him again and his pretty eyes fluttered. “Uh... so probably like, another six months.” He finished weakly. Distracted by your mouth.

“Hmm.” You were back to playing with his hair, extending a curl out and back again. “That’s enough time for me to finish up my two-year degree.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I can get my diploma...” You snuggled closer to him and draped an arm across his side. His eyes were wide and wonderous in the pale evening light. “... Then I can come pick up my boy in my Honda. And you’ll have a new name. We can go anywhere we want.”

“Anywhere?”

“Anywhere.”

“California.”

“Sure, Eddie-bear. California.”

He pulled his head back, hair rasping on the pillow. “Is this your way of asking me to live with you, babygirl?”

You swallowed your sudden cluster of nerves and covered it with a scoff of bravado. “Not an ask. A demand. I gotta keep my eye on you, Munson. You have a bad habit of slipping into other dimensions.”

He nodded somberly, jokingly. “Ah. Yeah, understandable. Who am I to contest the will of my good lady?” He pressed forward again, a kiss to your left cheek, then your right, and you heart felt like it was going to fucking explode when he tangled his fingers up with yours. “We can get a real shitty apartment. Nice and cheap. And you can be a cute barista that I can hit on while you work.”

“And we can go to the beach, after our shifts.” You added to the fantasy.

“You know, I’ve always wanted to get high on a beach.” He said matter-of-factly.

“Really?”

“Yup. Always wanted to see the ocean, too.”

You touched his face, fingers on his cheek, laid parallel to the scars. “We can see the ocean.” You said softly. “Together.”

“Hmm. I’ll hold you to that.” He hummed against your skin. His mouth started to roam again, and you were relaxing and shutting your eyes, falling into the sensation, when he nipped at your neck and you squealed over his cackle. He stretched.

“Hope you like spaghetti-o’s, babygirl.” He grunted as he sat up, scratching at his bedhead. “Cuz that’s all we have till Mr. Angry Agent comes back.”

“Oh, love them. Who needs fine dining when you have Campbell?”

Eddie cackled, and there wasn’t a better sound in the universe. After all: who needed dreams, when you had the real thing?

#not pictured: eddie's agent bursting through the door because it's unlocked and finding them cooking together #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #stranger things s4 #my writing #minors dont look

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whatstruthgottodowithit · 1 year

Text

The Price of Loving Elvis Presley

Fandom: Elvis Presley, RPF, American Actor

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Female Reader

Characters: Elvis Presley, Female Reader, Tom Jones, Jerry Schilling, Sandy Schilling

Word Count: 2256

Rating: Mature

Summary: The whole town is talking, they're callin' you a fool, for listening to his same old lies.

Tags/Warnings: Established Relationship, Love, Implied Cheating, Implied Sex, Cold Shoulder, Arguing, Angst, Fluff, Tom Jones, Vegas Residency, Tom and Elvis, Las Vegas, Reader’s Outfit , It Hurts Me // Elvis Presley

Notes: Hope you like it! I also love the irony that Elvis sings ‘It Hurts Me’ like he isn’t it to a T.

Elvis Tags: @literally-just-elvis-fics @caitlin1996 @notstefaniepresley @18lkpeters

Request by @elvispresleyxoxo - that’s ok , please could it be elvis and reader are making love and elvis calls reader a costar or another girls name she blows up and basically just gets angry doesn’t speak to him for days does stuff to make him jealous but eventually forgives him xx

I could hear him. He was pacing just outside the door no doubt building up the courage to come inside. Or rather wondering what reaction he was going to receive. I had to admit I’d given myself whiplash with the number of emotions I’d been feeling since yesterday. Not that it wasn’t justified. A couple of days ago my moods had been just peachy. Elvis was finally going to be done with his most recent stint in Vegas and had flown me and some of the girls out to meet them. He’d been happy to be almost finished with it which in turn had meant everyone had been in a great mood and he’d been particularly thrilled for us to be reunited.

Or so I thought.

We’d made it one night. In between shows he’d been all over me like a rash which I had missed. I’d even been the one to suggest we head back to the room right after his midnight show was over as our actions were getting all the more amorous. We’d barely made it back to the room before we were all over one another.

Then it happened.

She happened.

In my arms he had called out the name of another woman. Safe to say the mood was well and truly ruined. He had tried to shrug it off as though I had misheard him but that had only angered me. Our loving reunion devolved into screaming and crying (mostly mine) and eventually petered out to us spending the night apart.

That was where I was now, where I had spent the majority of the day. Away from him. My anger hadn’t subsided but I didn’t have the strength in me to argue and since he never wanted to admit he was in the wrong all communication had stopped. Until now.

I’d seen him of course. It never failed to surprise me how the man who could avoid anyone he wanted suddenly popped up whenever I was mad at him. He had made an appearance at breakfast, something that almost never happened as he preferred to rise well after noon. And then whilst I had been enjoying an afternoon with the girls by the pool he had chosen to go for an afternoon dip, his gaze falling on me at the end of every length he did, not that I took him on much.

Now he was pacing outside my door. Well, the door of my friend Sandy who had been kind enough to let me crash with her for the night since I didn’t want to go back to the suite. As I waited for the knock I blotted my lipstick, realigned my cleavage in my dress and ran my fingers through my hair to make it fall just right.

Then it came.

‘Come in,’ I said refusing to get up and let him in. As the door unlatched I busied myself with tidying away the makeup laid on the table in front of me not even looking up as he entered the room. After a moment of silence, he cleared his throat forcing me to look at him.

He looked gorgeous. He was wearing a crisp high collared suit with a white scarf that contrasted his tanned skin perfectly. In the low lamplight, his blue eyes looked electric and his supple lips looked like they needed to be kissed. Any other time I would’ve done so.

‘Hey,’ he said as I stood up and grabbed my purse off the bed, ‘wow, you looked stunning.’ ‘Thanks,’ I said with a sarcastic smile that made his fade as he realised it wasn’t going to be as easy as he thought to win me round. ‘Uh, I came to see if you’re coming to dinner…I wasn’t sure,’ he said rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. ‘Of course I am,’ I said tucking my clutch under my arm, ‘you got a problem with that?’ ‘Of course not,’ he said hurriedly. I nodded and moved past to stand by the door leaving him watching me with a confused look on his face. ‘Are we going or not?’ I asked. He nodded and rushed into action, opening the door so I could walk out. Though he led the way I could feel him glancing at me every so often unsure of how to take me.

We’d argued before of course and he was so stubborn I was normally the one to cave first but I wasn’t feeling it this time. Though the indiscretion could be seen as a minor one, well compared to some of the others, it didn’t feel like it. I always suspected other girls. They were part of his lifestyle. But for one of them to make their way into our bed. Our life. It seemed to hurt more than the rumours ever could. So I wasn’t going to let him off the hook easily. If he wanted forgiveness he was going to have to work for it.

We met some of the boys downstairs and headed across town to where we would be spending the evening. As Elvis was shepherded through throngs of fans, signing autographs and having pictures taken, I wandered towards the girls who were congregated waiting to go in, a fact that I knew would annoy him. He liked to have me close by in incidences like this should anything go awry. When we finally walked into the venue he appeared beside me, his large hand grasping mine tightly as he led us to our seats. He didn’t say anything but I smirked to myself at how much I was getting under his skin.

Throughout the show we didn’t talk much. Our booth was made up of just Jerry, Sandy, Elvis and I with the boys and the girls on either side rather than couple by couple. As he chatted to Jerry about how impressed he was by the act I spoke to Sandy in hushed whispers. He was right. The act was quite something, a phenomenal voice and charisma on stage yet that wasn’t what had got me and Sandy giggling like schoolgirls. He was attractive too. Not as much as Elvis but definitely rugged and handsome. Elvis seemed to notice it too, his gaze flitting to the stage as I mocked fanning myself with a napkin to make Sandy laugh. When our eyes met across the table I could see his jaw clench earning a smile from me.

When the set was almost over a stocky gentleman I had never met before appeared leaning over the booth as he spoke, ‘Sorry to bother you, sir.’ ‘It’s no problem,’ Elvis said politely, ‘what’s the matter?’ ‘Nothing’s the matter it’s just that Tom would like to offer his thanks for you attending tonight,’ he said, ‘he’ll be off stage in a minute if you’d like to come backstage and meet him.’ ‘Sure,’ Elvis said but as he glanced across the table and noted my excited expression the clenched jaw returned, ‘you girls wait here okay?’ ‘ ‘Oh no they can come if they want,’ the man said, ‘Tom won’t mind.’ ‘Yeah baby,’ I said grabbing my purse off the table as I feigned the most innocent expression I could muster, ‘unless you have a problem with me and Sandy coming?’

He glanced at Sandy and then Jerry before his gaze landed back on me. Not only did he hate having to jump through hoops for forgiveness he hated fighting in front of other people. If he agreed he’d be conceding to jump through even more hoops. If he said no he’d be the asshole. He was stuck.

‘Why would I?’ he said with a tight smile. ‘Great,’ I said, ‘then let’s go meet Tom Jones.’

✵✵✵

The night was almost over and though I had enjoyed myself I still wasn’t happy. From the moment we had landed in Tom’s dressing room, Elvis had shifted into entertainer mode. He and Tom had had pictures together and spent ages talking about performing and how they admired each other as entertainers. We’d even headed to dinner with Tom and some of his entourage. And to anyone else, we seemed like a perfect couple.

He was so good at pretending everything was normal I had even started to doubt myself. Was I being unfair? Was I overreacting? It was one measly name. And after all, I had spent the night flirting with Tom freaking Jones to try and get a rise out of him and nothing. Maybe it was time to give up the ghost. Wave the white flag.

I had excused myself to the bathroom, not bothering to ask Sandy to come as she was too enamoured with Tom to leave. Once I was done I gave myself a once over in the mirror and tried to plaster a smile on my face though the feeling of futility never left me. It looked convincing enough though, so I exited the bathroom with every intention of heading back to the private function room we had been in though my path was blocked as Elvis appeared the minute I stepped out of the ladies, grabbing my arm as he steered away from peering eyes towards the end of the corridor.

‘What are you doing?’ I asked, wrenching my arm from his grasp though it was pretty fruitless. I was trapped between him and the wall, I couldn’t go anywhere even if I wanted to. That thought was also made clear as I peered around his shoulder and found a couple of the guys blocking this end of the corridor off. Instead, I watched his flaming blue eyes look down on me. ‘Conceding,’ he said with a small smile. ‘What?’ I asked incredulously as he pulled back, his hands going to my waist. ‘You win,’ he said. ‘Oh I do, do I?’ I asked folding my arms across my chest, ‘and what exactly am I supposed to be winning Elvis?’ ‘Me, admitting I was in the wrong,’ he said unfazed by my coolness as he moved a strand of hair off my face. My resolve crumbled a fraction as he smiled down at me. Only he could admit to his shortcomings and still seem so attractive. ‘You realised that huh?’ I said scrambling to keep the upper hand though it was slipping through my fingers by the second. ‘I knew from the moment I did it,’ he admitted. ‘And yet it took you a day to admit it,’ I grumbled pulling away from him to lean against the wall. Elvis stroked his chin with his thumb as he watched me.

‘Don’t pretend you haven’t enjoyed putting me through the wringer Mama,’ he said. I tried to protest but he raised an eyebrow, ‘the dress, the cleavage, the fawning over Tom.’ ‘He is Tom Jones,’ I said cockily. ‘Are you telling me you’d have paid him half as much attention if we hadn’t been fighting?’ ‘Maybe,’ I said feeling my cockiness crumble, ‘okay probably not and anyway it’s not like you even noticed.’ ‘What because I didn’t whip out my pistol and shoot him? Baby I noticed every time you looked at the goddamn man,’ he said pulling me to him, ‘the way you put your hand on his knee, the way you laughed at all his jokes.’ ‘Didn’t call out his name in bed though, did I?’ I said. It was a last-ditch attempt at winning and we both knew it. Though the way he sighed made me feel as though it had had some impact.

‘No, you didn’t,’ he said finally meeting my eyes, ‘but like I said. I’m conceding. You were right to be angry…I’m sorry.’ ‘Why didn’t you just admit then and there?’ I asked. ‘I don’t know. Stubbornness? I didn’t want to ruin our night…I’d just got you back.’ ‘It ruined it anyway,’ I grumbled. ‘I know,’ he said placing his hand on my neck as his thumb stroked gently across my jawline. ‘You really hurt me E,’ I admitted feeling whatever resolve I had well and truly disappeared when I heard the vulnerability in my voice. ‘I know,’ he said, ‘sometimes I feel like it’s the only thing I do well…that’s why seeing you with him like that hurts so much.’ ‘Why?’ I asked. ‘What if you realise you wanna be with someone like him? I couldn’t blame you for that.’ ‘But I don’t love him,’ I said, ‘I love you.’ ‘Foolish really,’ he said with a sad smile. ‘Probably,’ I agreed placing my hands around the scarf he was wearing so I could pull him towards me. ‘What if I can’t stop hurtin’ ya,’ he murmured sadly. ‘If that’s the price of loving you I’ll pay it.’ ‘I’m lucky you still do,’ he said.

He leant down, brushing his lips against mine for just a moment before pulling back. He was right. It probably was foolish of me to love him given all the hurt he put me through and yet I couldn’t stop. Even if I had to put him through a couple of hoops before I could forgive him I never stopped loving him. I would never be able to stop because the price of loving him didn’t take away the fact that to be loved by him meant everything. And that was something I couldn’t lose.

#my writing #request #requested fic #the price of loving elvis presley #elvis x reader #elvis x female reader #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley #elvis #elvis presley fic

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eebydeebyderby · 2 years

Text

I Missed You

A one-shot in which Egon struggles to express his feelings after Reader returns from a month-long absence.

Based on this request sent in by @saltedtoast about 49 years ago.

General info:

Egon x fem!Reader, fluff, confessions, no content warnings

~3.1k words

The lab had never known loneliness until it felt your absence.

Egon peers into his microscope, adjusting the focus on a newly prepared slide of Xylaria polymorpha he recently cultivated. This was a particularly hard specimen for him to raise in captivity, and he feels a sense of pride that it was doing quite well under his care. He tries to focus completely on his work, but a sense of emptiness tugs on the back of his mind, threatening to once again disrupt his work flow. It’s an internal struggle he’s been wrestling with for a month now. He'd grown accustomed to the solitude of the lab for the first few years before your hire, and he was quite content with just his own company. In all honesty, he initially found the idea of sharing his lab with someone full-time quite disdainful. He was distant, almost cold for the first few weeks as you settled in, but he quickly became used to your company, even looking forward to seeing you in the mornings.

He sorely misses you. He's clung to every ghost of your presence during your month's absence, finding your lingering influence in its tasks, its equipment and daily rituals. You’re due to return tomorrow, and he can’t deny the nervous excitement that built up over the past few days.

Rapid footsteps descend down the stairs, breaking into his thoughts. He groans a bit and scowls, not looking up from his microscope. Every night, Peter barrels into the lab to pester him for the purpose of extorting a candy bar from the sweets’ drawer in exchange for staying away from your things. Tonight more than ever he’s not in the mood for Peter’s antics a second time. The footsteps hit the basement floor and he rises to his feet, still adjusting the focus on his microscope. “Venkman—"

“Egon!”

The sudden sound of your voice nearly makes him jump out of his coat. He turns around just in time for you to fling your arms around him, nearly knocking him off-balance. Your familiar scent floods his nostrils and his mind blanks. For a split-second, he’s absolutely intoxicated.

“I missed you.” Your grip is so tight that he almost struggles to draw breath, and he finds himself quite flustered. By the time he summons the courage to reciprocate, you pull away.

You drop your bag at your desk, which Egon had vigilantly kept free of Peter's grabby raccoon hands. "It's good to be back in our lab."

Our lab. He preens. “It’s good to have you back.” He clears his throat, hoping the heat on his face isn’t too visible. “You’re a day early.”

“Yeah, the travel schedule changed a bit.” You rummage through your bag and offer him a chocolate bar—an old favorite of his not found in New York since his undergrad.

“Oh. Thank you.” He’s pleasantly surprised at the gesture; in his entirety of knowing you, he’s only mentioned it once. He reaches out and grabs the treat, but is met with a sudden resistance when you don’t release it from your grip.

“What happened?” you ask quietly. He follows your gaze to the burn seared across the back of his hand from last week’s neutrino malfunction, scarred and scabbed, but mostly healed over.

“It’s nothing,” he says reflexively.

You raise an eyebrow. Anyone unfamiliar with you would read your expression as credulous, but he knows you come from a place of concern. Still, he’s grateful that you release him and don’t prod further into it. “How’d you manage to keep Peter out of my stuff?” you ask, granting him the mercy of a changed subject.

“Bribery, threats, extortion, canned cat food laced with children’s Benadryl.”

You laugh, a familiar sound that fills his chest with a bubbly warmth, something sorely lacking in the lab for the past month. Oh, he missed you terribly.

And yet, something’s off.

He ponders for a second. There’s the slightest drop of tone in your voice, an almost undetectable droop of your eyebrows; your limbs are drawn in, your arms wrapped tightly across your middle.

You look sad.

“You look sad,” he blurts, and he immediately regrets it. It was the truth, yes, but he could have worded it much, much more eloquently. Still, Peter was always telling him to speak his mind, to stop overthinking the simple things.

He has trouble reading your face in reaction to his comment, and for a moment he fears he stumbled into offensiveness.

You shrug. “Just a little homesick, I guess. It’s been an intense adjustment, this past year,” you say. He sees the sadness settle back into your gaze, the uncertainty. “I’ve been away from home for so long that things felt a bit weird and off when I went back, but I also feel like I don’t quite belong where I’m at. I missed home for so long, but when I was back there I missed being here. No matter where I’m at, I feel like I left something behind.”

He awkwardly reaches forward and places his hand on your shoulder. “I’m not going to tell you that those feelings will get better or easier, because there’s no guaranteeing the truth in that.” He swallows. “What I can guarantee, however, is that you may openly confide in me anything and I will do my best to offer full support.” He pauses for just a split second to keep the quake in his chest from reaching his voice. “I wish for this to be explicitly known.”

You smile warmly, melting the icy pit forming in his stomach. “Thank you. Likewise.”

His nerve depletes and he withdraws his hand, failing to notice the disappointment on your face. His mind scrambles a bit for a plausible escape route and quickly settles on, “I believe a hot beverage is in-order.” Before you can reply he stuffs his hands deeply into the pockets of his lab coat and quickly makes his way to the kitchen stairs. He feels your befuddled gaze burning into the back of his neck and he doesn’t dare to turn his head until he knows he’s well out of sight.

The privacy of the kitchen allows his mind to unclog itself of its anxieties, to idly keep his hands busy and get a bit of respite. He sighs as he makes his way to the cupboard, pulling out various ingredients. He wants to pretend that he doesn’t know why he’s so nervous, but there’s no plausible deniability that he can convince himself of.

Tonight. He’s going to tell you tonight. For the past month he’s been trying to force himself to build up a sort of courage to be ready upon your return, but it crumbled away in an instant with just the sound of your voice. He’s completely disarmed and wants to give it up for another day like he’d done countless times before, spending weeks and weeks building up his nerve only for it to once again disappear when he tried calling upon it.

He absentmindedly shakes his head a bit, as if to shoo away the thoughts. For now, he just chooses to focus on his kitchen activities.

He’s memorized your nighttime beverage preferences down pat: how hot you like it, how sweet, what consistency, how the time of month and weather off-puts typical preference. He knows several small inclinations of yours, things that he’d never openly admit for fear of coming off as disconcerting. Peter tells him that he never speaks up enough, but will say in the same breath that Egon easily falls into saying far, far too much. He sighs. Human courting rituals, and all that. No matter how many times he consults with Janine or one of the boys, he’s always left horribly befuddled.

As if on cue, Winston walks into the kitchen with a mug of tea and a newspaper. “Heyo, doctor,” he says pleasantly.

Winston’s sagacity commands an air of respect without compromising the lax energy that his presence brings about. Already Egon feels some of the tension unwind in his stomach as Winston settles himself at the table. Now more than ever he feels the need for a confidant and Winston, the youngest of the four men, has a level of emotional intelligence that far exceeds that of most anyone Egon knows. He’s also the person in the firehouse who’s known you for years longer than anyone else, even being the original advocate for your hire.

“YN’s back a day early. Did she go down and say ‘hi’ to you yet?”

Egon nods. “She’s in the lab.”

Winston raises an eyebrow. “First thing she said when I asked her about her trip was that she missed you,” he says wryly, swirling the tea in his mug. "So, why are you up here?"

Egon sighs again. If he really wants to seek advice, there’s no point in giving Winston anything other than the truth. “I can’t seem to shake myself from mental paralysis. I’m unsure that my timing is optimal, that I’m not risking her comfort, that we would still function as coworkers in the event that the approach is negatively received. I’m not even sure what parts of our correspondence have dissolved in her absence and which ones were preserved.”

“I getcha.” Winston takes a drink of tea, giving himself a moment to formulate his thoughts. "Sounds to me like you're stuck between wanting things to go back to the safe old dynamic, but also wanting to change it to something more romantically inclined. Being apart for so many weeks created a sort of split limbo in your relationship, and now it’s up to you to reestablish what sort of dynamic you want to pursue. Choosing to pursue one has a very real chance of dooming the possibility of later pursuing the other. This is a risk of any courtship. You’re never gonna be sure about any of it.”

“I’m just…uncertain about how to go about it. Every time I formulate a dialogue in my head, it dissolves the second I call upon it.”

“Mm.” Winston sets down his tea. “I know you love your disquisitions, doc, but you’re just making it hard on yourself. Two simple rules are all you need: Be honest. Keep it simple. Easy.”

Egon scoffs, pouring two mugs of steaming cocoa. Easy, he says.

Peter trots up the stairs. “Spengler?” His voice carries an edge of irritation. “What the hell are you doing up here?”

“He’s just grabbing a little treat for himself and YN,” Winston says as he scribbles in the newspaper’s crosswords.

“Oh, good. I thought he was up here hiding because he choked trying to get himself to talk to her again,” Peter says flatly.

Egon ignores his comment and averts his gaze as he gathers up his mugs and begins to depart.

“Hey, wait.” Peter firmly plants his hand on Egon’s shoulder, halting him. “Believe me, Egon. You know we wouldn’t jerk you around with something like this. She’s really got something for you. She has for a while now. God only knows why. Now," He rips the newspaper from Winston's hands and smacks Egon over the head with it. "Get going!”

"Ah!" Egon instinctively moves to flinch, but stops with the weight of the mugs in his hands. "Venkman! I'm holding hot drinks!"

Peter smacks him again and again, knocking his glasses askew. "Go! Git! Git!" he shouts, corralling Egon towards the staircase. "It’s now or never, Spengler!” Peter calls out as Egon descends the stairs. “Now or never!”

He’s thankful that two sets of stairs separate the basement from the kitchen, making it nearly impossible for you to hear Peter’s shouts. You’re peering into his microscope when he returns to the lab. “Xylaria polymorpha,” you say as he approaches you. “Said to spawn in spots where the Welsh gwyllgi takes rest beneath forest trees.” You rise to your feet and take the mug he offers you. “Thanks, Spengs.” You take a sip and savor the rich flavor as it spreads across your tongue, warming your entire being. "Nobody makes it the way you do.”

He takes a sip of his own drink. It’s alright. Stock flavor composition from a standardized corporate formula meant to chemically stimulate basal taste receptors. He only modified it very slightly with a few pinches of additional ingredients. “It’s nothing special,” he says.

“It is when you make it.”

Heat rises to his face.

“Hey, I know it’s late,” you say, “but do you want to go up to the balcony? Get some air? I want to see the city lights again.”

The winter air is bitingly cold as he steps onto the roof behind you and he tightly clings to his mug, grateful for its warmth radiating through his hands. He fleetingly considers going to fetch you one of his spare coats, but you seem quite unbothered by the cold. You lean on the banister, scanning the horizon with an almost hungry fascination, your eyes flitting between countless small flashes of movement from the city below. “I almost forgot how lively it always is, no matter what time it is.”

Egon stands next to you. “The city that never sleeps.”

“The city that never sleeps,” you repeat vacantly, “and the scientist who follows suit…” You turn to him, tiredness weighing heavily in your own eyes. “Since we are open to confiding,” you say slowly, trying not to tread on any sensitivities. “I worry about you. You never get enough sleep and I feel like there might be something bothering you.”

He’s fascinated by how easily you can oscillate between idle observations and deep-seated feelings, how you and so many others manage the balance between aloofness and oversharing, when he himself often veers too far towards one or the other. He decides to fall back to one of Peter’s pre-approved conversation topics. “How is your return to New York so far?”

“Yeah, it really is.” You laugh, and he doesn’t know if it’s from derision, genuine amusement at your own comment, or an incomprehensible mixture of both.

The cryptozoologist acting cryptically. There’s something so obviously fitting about that, and yet it’s a thought that’s never crossed his mind. A smirk creeps along his face, the half smile you so commonly reciprocate. It’s just another one of your many small charms that he finds himself so spellbound over.

You take a final swig of your drink and set down the empty mug. “How have you been this past month?”

Be honest. Keep it simple. “I missed you.”

Your mouth splits into a bashful grin and you turn your head away from him for a very brief moment, as if to hide your face. You move closer to him and press yourself against him. He nearly jumps when he feels your touch, your warmth in the frigid night air. His heart flutters in his chest and in a sudden burst of confidence he puts his arm around you to pull you closer.

Your shoulder stiffens beneath his arm.

For a split second his soul runs icy and his heart drops into the pit of his stomach, fearing that he’d breached your comfort, but he’s pulled out of his dread when you lean into him.

You close your eyes and rest your head on his chest. “I missed you, too. I mean, yes, I missed everyone, Janine and Dana and the boys, but I really, really missed you from the pit of my gut.” You sigh contentedly. "It's good to have you back."

Blood pounds in his ears. Now or never. He swallows. Now or never. “I’m in love with you,” he blurts.

You pull away and lock eyes with him. Your face is completely unreadable to him and panic bursts in his chest. “I apologize if I’ve offended you,” he stammers rapidly. “It was never my intention to put you in an uncomfortable position and if I’ve in any way compromised your sense of safety or well-b—”

“Egon.”

You reach up and put your hands on either side of his face, silencing him. “Relax.” Every thought in his head grinds to a halt as you gently guide his head forward and press your lips to his. Instinct takes over and he tilts his head slightly, bringing his hand up to delicately cup the side of your face.

After a few seconds you pull back a bit, your lips just grazing his, your breath hot on his face, sending chills down his spine. A sweetness lingers behind, the taste of your drink he made for you. “I love you, too.” Your voice is low and breezy, calming to his wildly beating heart. You stand on the tips of your toes and gently tilt his head downwards to plant a light kiss on his forehead. "It took going away for an entire month and missing you so badly for me to realize it."

For a moment he remains quiet, blinking rapidly. Then the entirety of his face lights up in a bright grin and he chuckles deeply in the back of his throat. He pulls you in for another kiss, savoring the softness of your lips against his, your warmth in the frigid night air, your presence that he’d missed so sorely for an entire month. The kiss breaks and he pulls you into a tight embrace, cradling you to his chest and resting his cheek on top of your head. You let out a contented sigh and lean further into him. The vibrations of his deep voice resonate in your chest as he hums a nonsense tune under his breath and absentmindedly sways with you in his arms. He doesn’t know how long the two of you just stand there, but he’s more than happy to stay here with you for the entire night if you let him.

You stretch your jaw into a wide yawn. He feels the fatigue settle into you as your grip around him gradually relaxes. “Tired?” he asks.

“No,” you say thickly, struggling to suppress another yawn bubbling in your throat.

He snickers and tilts your chin up. Exhaustion is written plainly on your face, but there’s a defiant gleam burning in your eye. You don’t want to leave just yet, you want to stay up here as long as you can. He feels the same, but he knows your stamina is depleted. He presses a kiss to the bridge of your nose. “Let’s get you inside. You need rest.”

You frown. “Just a little longer?”

He finds it almost uncanny how quickly your gaze melts away his resolve, staring up at him with your big, soft eyes. He pulls you back into his arms and you settle in nicely. “Just a little longer.”

#egon spengler x reader #egon spengler #ghostbusters egon #ghostbusters fanfiction #ghostbusters imagine #one-shot #oc #egon x reader #egon #ghosbusters x reader #@saltedtoast #sfw

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imajinxnation · 1 year

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Always One Step Ahead - Peter Hayes x Reader

REQUEST: thank you. ive always wanted to see a peter hayes x reader where she’s a dauntless born and she’s better than him and is always 1 step ahead of him in initiation, and it really pisses him off cause he likes her, and when he finally works up the courage to tell her she’s just like “yeah i know” and he’s a little embarrassed but doesn’t care cause she admits she likes him back @fay-stark33

Never realized how much I love writing fight scenes until now lmao

Sorry if this is a bit short!!

FEMALE!READER

WARNINGS: Fluff, Suggestive, Peter gets his ass beat, and Reader is a badass

"Admit it, Hayes, I'm better than you! I mean, why wouldn't I be? I am Dauntless born, after all," you smirked.

You looked down from the board, your name at number one, only to look at Peter who had a look of annoyance on his bloodied face. Eric had wanted to do an experiment, the toughest Dauntless born initiate against the strongest non-Dauntless initiate. Needless to say, it was allowed and you and Peter put each other through hell, and when you wouldn't let up, Peter lost due to exhaustion, plus a little "nudge" by you. And by "nudge" I mean knocking him out cold.

When he finally woke up in the medical centre, he was dissoriented and absolutely pissed that he had lost. And, not that he'd ever admit it, a little impressed, and slightly turned on.

He glared at you, looking you straight in the eyes. If looks could kill, there'd be a thousand knives in your body. The staring competition went on for a few more minutes before Peter got flustered by your unwavering smugness, and by how beautiful your (e/c) eyes were, especially with the amount of pride he saw in them.

"What? You can't even look a girl in her eyes, Hayes? Never took you as the shy type when it came to girls!" You laughed.

Peter's ears were burning at the thought of you thinking he was weak and shy. Getting frustrated by his reactions, the only thing on his mind was having a rematch, and one that he would win, that'd show you that he's not weak when it came to girls!

"The results can't be right, you cheated didn't you?! I want a rematch!" He demanded through clenched teeth.

You raised a brow, a bit impressed at his persistence to try and beat you, "Alright, but I'm warning you, this one might put ya in a coma," you winked.

After talking about a rematch with Eric, he was immediately down to see someones ass get beat, so there was no hesitation in letting you beat the shit outta each other again. You swaggered, confidently, over to Peter, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him to the sparring room. Eventually you let his arm go, assuming he could come the rest of the way without being dragged, but obviously not since he was just standing in the doorway, looking as if you had offended him.

"Well come on, Loud Mouth, I ain't got all fuckin' day! This was YOUR idea after all, so don't get cold feet now!" You yelled from the middle of the room.

Peter didn't wait to be told when to start the fight, he just straight up ran right at you, full force. You jerked out of the way once he got close enough and kicked him in the back of his knees, bringing him down to the ground, but before you could kick the rest of his body to the floor he swivelled around on his knees and hugged his arms around your waist and brought you down with him.

You took the chance while your lower body was trapped under him to kick his nether regions, which immediately brought his grip away from you and to his crotch. You got a quick punch or two on his face while he was crouching in pain, and quickly made a move to get behind him and kick his full body to the ground. He was in so much pain, you felt bad about it, but your pride in victory won you over, so you did what any winner would do; keep the loser on the ground by sitting on his back

"There, now you know I wasn't cheating, I'm just that good, now don't ask me to fight you again, I don't like hurting the person I like," you sighed.

"....What?" He asked.

"Oh shut up, you heard the the first time Peter, so are you gonna ask me out or not?" You snapped.

Peter twisted his head, trying to see your face, but couldn't, due to the fact you were literally sitting on his back.

"You knew this whole time that I like you?" He asked, his ears burning up in embarassment.

"Yeah, I've known for awhile now, but obviously you needed a push to ask me out. So, here it is; I like you too, so ask me out before I change my mind," you deadpanned.

"Okay, but first can you get off my fuckin' back so I can say it to your actual face and NOT the floor?"

At that, you immediately leaped off of him and sat in front of him on the cold concrete floor.

Peter cracked his neck and massaged his sore body before anything.

"So, you wanna get outta this place and get some food, or not?" He said, trying to hide his flustered state.

"Of course, Peter. But first, I think we should stop by the infirmary, cause I really did a number on you," you laughed, nervously.

He let out a small laugh too before standing up and walking with you out of the room.

#divergent preferences #divergent headcanons #divergent fanfiction #divergent #divergent imagines #divergent imagine #peter hayes headcanons #peter hayes x reader #peter hayes imagines #divergent peter hayes #peter hayes imagine #peter hayes #peter hayes fanfiction #x reader #x female reader

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misscongeniality18 · 1 year

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Hey girl! I cannot tell you how happy I am that you are taking requests for Peter Sutherland. I feel like I’ve already read everything on the Peter Sutherland x reader tag 😭 I am yearning for some fluff. Could you write a fic where Peter and the reader are neighbors and although Peter is really into her he’s super nervous to ask her out. Then a package for the reader is accidentally delivered to Peter and when he knocks on her door to return it he finally works up the courage to ask her out? Or you can absolutely change it up, I just want some sweet and shy Peter. Thank you, you’re doing god’s work ❤️

This is adorable and so in-character for Peter, I love it!

Nervous - Peter Sutherland

Synopsis ! (In request above) Peter is hesitant to ask you out but is forced to take action by his annoying best friend and a package delivered to the wrong door. Pairing ! Peter Sutherland x fem!reader Genre ! Fluff Warnings ! Some language maybe, Peter being an absolute fluffball of adorable-ness, Cisco being Cisco Word Count - 1481

" I get a little bit nervous around you Get a little bit stressed out when I think about you Get a little excited Baby, when I think about you " - Nervous, Shawn Mendes

Masterlist Request Guide

Peter wouldn’t call himself a stalker, but Cisco definitely would.

You had moved into the apartment across the hall from him nearly four months ago. The first meeting between you and Peter was while you were carrying one too many boxes, and the top one fell over. Peter just so happened to be in the hallway and came to your rescue. He offered to help you with bringing up the rest of your stuff, which you gladly accepted.

Cisco happened to be there as well, and he knew just by the look on Peter’s face that the boy had completely fallen for you, and you’d only exchanged a few sentences.

Since you’d moved in, Cisco knew whenever you were in the hallway because of how Peter would suddenly perk up and glance at the door; he knew the sound and rhythm of your footsteps whenever you were walking down the hall.

Peter also knew your schedule. He knew that you would always start making dinner right after you got off of work, because he could smell whatever you were cooking while he was just waking up for his shift. You liked to take walks in the evening, just before sunset, because that was when he left for work. And he knew that you had a yoga or pilates class early in the morning (your pink mat gave that one away), because he would walk past you in the hallway when he got back from work.

Well, whenever he got home. He would stop and get food and actually go the speed limit after leaving the White House. Sometimes he would even take the stairs in order to waste time so he could walk past you in the hallway. He always looked forward to see you smile at him in greeting, even if you were only being polite.

Okay, maybe he was a bit stalker-ish.

But Peter always respected your boundaries and privacy, though. If he had an extra muffin from the coffee shop, he wouldn’t ask you if you wanted it, because what if you were allergic walnuts or couldn’t eat gluten? When he saw you struggling with your groceries, he offered to help you carry them up (which you accepted gratefully) but he never followed you inside your apartment without an invitation, because that was having proper manners. And he never ran to the peephole in his door whenever he heard you walking by, because that was just plain creepy.

He did want to talk to you more though.

Yes, there would be the occasional small talk, and he would say hello whenever you passed by him, and you would reply, bright and sweet, “Hi, Peter,” which gave him a serious case of butterflies.

Peter wanted to ask you out, but he was a coward. He could manage to stop a train and evacuate everyone before a bomb went off, but he couldn’t ask you out to coffee or lunch?

God, he was pathetic.

Cisco liked to give him shit about it every time he came over, and tonight was one of those nights. It was Peter’s night off, and Cisco came over to watch an MLB game and drink a couple of beers.

“Come on, man, you’ve gotta rip the band aid off sometime. I know it’s only been six months since Zoe left, but—“

Peter, from his spot on the couch, held out a hand to stop his friend from saying any more. “This has nothing to do with Zoe. I just…haven’t found the right time yet.”

“If I had a dime for every time I’ve heard that one, I’d be a rich man,” Cisco replied, taking a sip from his beer.

Peter furrowed his brow. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“People always come to me for relationship advice—“

“What people would do that?”

“Shut up and let me finish,” Cisco scolded. “Most of the excuses about why someone doesn’t follow through with anything is that they ‘haven’t found the right time,’ and it’s complete bullshit. You have to take charge with what you want, man. If you want this girl, you have to ask her out. You can’t keep watching her from afar, it’s sketchy.”

A knock sounded at the door, and Peter got up a little too quickly, desperate for the conversation to be over.

Waiting on the ground in front of the door was a package. Peter picked it up and went back inside, and as he read the label, his heart began to pound. It wasn’t his name on the box.

It was yours.

Cisco could easily see the panic in Peter’s expression. “What is it?”

“It—it was delivered to the wrong door. It’s hers.”

When Peter began to stutter, Cisco knew who he was talking about. “Where’s the package from?”

Peter glanced down at the from address. “None of your business.”

“It’s from Victoria’s Secret, isn’t it?”

That was met with a smack to the side of the head.

“Okay, okay, sorry. But you have to talk to her anyway, so why not ask her out now?”

When Peter said nothing, Cisco began to realize how nervous he was.

“You really like her, don’t you?”

“I do. Well, so far, I do. I’d like to get to know her more.”

Cisco clapped him on the shoulder. “Then go get her. I’ve got faith in you, brother.”

With a deep breath, Peter opened his door and took the two steps to reach the other side of the hallway. He lifted his fist, package in the other hand, and knocked.

“Just a second!” He heard you shout from inside.

A few scampering footsteps later, you opened your door, and Peter felt his breath catch. Damn, you were beautiful. You had your hair piled up on top of your head, a few strands having escaped. Your cheeks were flushed, and an apron was laying over an old t-shirt and a pair of sleep shorts. The smell of something baking came from the kitchen, cookies maybe.

Just the sight of you made Peter forget why he was there, until the weight of the package in his hand reminded him. “Hi, I think this is supposed to be yours.”

You glanced down at the package. “Oh! Thank you so much!”

Peter handed it to you, your fingertips brushing. His skin began to tingle from where you touched.

“No problem,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets. “What are you baking?”

“Brownies. They’re for a co-worker’s baby shower. We’re having a party tomorrow. They’re turning out a bit more fudge-y than they’re supposed to.”

Peter grinned. “Those are the best kind, aren’t they?”

“I guess you’re right,” you smiled back. “Would you like some?”

“As long as you have enough, sure. Thank you.”

“Wait just a second, I’ll be back,” you said before dashing into the kitchen.

Peter began to wait patiently, something he could do only for you. He’d wait forever if needed. He’d—

“Dude!”

Peter spun around to see Cisco poking his head out from his apartment.

“What are you doing? Ask her out already!”

“Would you—get out of here!” Peter sputtered, anxious to get his dumbass best friend away before you came back.

“Hurry it up, then!”

Cisco disappeared behind the door just as you came back with a paper plate full of brownies cut neatly into squares. “Here you go,” you said, slightly out of breath from rushing.

“Thank you,” Peter replied.

“Let me know how they are; I don’t trust my judgement of my own cooking,” you laughed, and it was one of the most beautiful sounds Peter had ever heard. “Well, thank you for the package. Have a good night.”

Stunned, Peter started to turn away, but then he turned back, calling your name. Your door was just starting to close, but you opened it back up, eyes wide and curious. “Yes?”

Peter began to worry that his words would come out in stutters if he tried to talk, so he hesitated, pressing his lips together. “Um, would you want to get coffee sometime? Or maybe dinner?”

Your eyes warmed then. “Yeah, sure. How about dinner on Saturday? Six o’clock?”

“Yeah,” Peter blinked, slightly in shock that you accepted so quickly. “Yeah, that works for me.”

“It’s a date, then,” you said, grinning at him before closing your door.

Peter pumped his fist, his lips widening into the biggest smile possible as he turned back to his apartment.

You leaned against your door, sighing in relief and trying to contain your giddiness. You’d always hoped that Peter would ask you out, but you weren’t sure if he liked you.

When you heard his door open, followed by two pairs of excited whoops, you couldn’t hold it in any longer. You laughed, happy to know that Peter was every bit thrilled as you were for this date.

#peter sutherland #peter sutherland fanfic #the night agent #peter sutherland x reader #peter sutherland x you #gabriel basso #fanfic

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