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#specifically that time they got us kicked out of a&w

lightsoutletsgo · 1 month

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bear hugs — cl.16

pairing: charles leclerc x bearman!reader | ollie bearman x oldersister!reader

word count: 10k

warnings: mentions of food, specific clothing/outfits detailed but no specific body descriptions used, tooth rotting fluff, charles and reader being awkward and cheesy, lots of giggling, charles and y/n are just two shy babies who kiss softly, pretty emotional scene where y/n and ollie are the cutest siblings taglist: @iamapersonwholikesunicorns @arieslost @weekendlusting

You groaned as your peaceful sleep was disturbed, but by what exactly you weren’t sure. You rolled over, eyes slowly blinking at the way the morning light was pouring through the curtains. Oh. Your phone was ringing. You stretched out an arm to grab your phone from where it had been charging on the bedside table all night. Just who was calling and waking you up? You winced as your phone screen shone far too brightly for your poor eyes. Reading the caller ID you huffed and threw your phone onto the bed next to you, before throwing an arm over your eyes to go back to sleep. Sometimes your brother could be so annoying.

Your phone stopped ringing and in the silence you felt yourself gently slipping back into sleep. Until the ringing started again, growling you felt around for your phone before answering with a short tone, “What Ols? I was asleeeeep…” You whined, “Turn your camera on!” Ollie practically yelled at you. You shut your eyes with a groan, doing as he asked, “Ollie stop shouting-” “Ferrari called.” You stopped at his interruption and sat up suddenly, wide awake as you stared at your little brother, “W-wha…?” “I’m driving for them. This weekend. Carlos is sick and so I’m standing in for him.” Ollie stared at you, practically vibrating on the spot with how excited he was.

“What the fuck Ollie?!” You gaped at your phone, tears already welling up in your eyes, “Are you serious?” Your brother’s laugh rang through the speaker and you watched as he nodded on screen, “Yeah I just got the call!” “Ols this is insane…” Your voice trailed off as he beamed at you, “I’m shaking to be honest… is that weird? I feel like that’s weird-” “Uh you just got a call from Ferrari that you’re driving in F1 this weekend, I think it’s pretty normal all things considered.” You reasoned, he released a shaky exhale, “You’ll come and watch from the garage with Dad right?” “Obviously, dumbass.” He stuck his tongue out childishly as you checked the time, “I guess we’ll be there in like an hour?” You paused for a moment, “Hey Ollie?” “Hmm?” You smiled at the way his excitement was so visible, “I’m really proud of you, you know that right?” “I love you.” Was all he said in reply, “Love you too stinky, now go eat some breakfast! I’ll be there soon.” You clicked ‘end call’ and sat on your hotel bed in silence. What an insane weekend. You didn’t think you could get any prouder of him after his amazing performance in F2 and gaining that all important P1 position and yet here you were about to dress in Ferrari red and watch your brother race one of the most famous F1 circuits in the world for one of the top teams.

You fell back against the pillows with a squeal, kicking your legs and giggling in excitement. You grabbed your phone and texted your Dad,

Jumping out of bed you quickly showered before thanking whatever higher power was out there that you’d packed some cute red clothing options this time round including your vintage Ferrari jacket. You grabbed a pair of your favourite jeans and a plain white t-shirt before quickly showering and fixing your hair. After getting dressed and finishing your routine you made sure to grab your bag and you were off to the track.

❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀

You were used to being in the garages for the F2 races, you’d been to more than your fair share of them to support Ollie, but this was another level. The amount of people; mechanics, PR, sponsors, supporters, engineers, photographers. Your ears were already ringing and you hadn’t even heard the cars yet. A shout of your name grabbed your attention and you turned in the garage to see your brother hurtling towards you, “Y/N!!” You were practically winded as he hugged you tightly, “I’m so glad you’re here!” “Hey stinky.” You wrapped your arms around him, “Oooooo bear hug!” You joked. Ever since you could remember it had been a running joke in your family to call every hug a bear hug, after your last name. You often joked that no one could give hugs like the Bearman family, and only you and your family members could give a certified ‘bear hug’. “How you feeling?” Ollie stood back up straight, fixing his cap, “Excited!” “Good.” He nodded at your jacket, “Bet you’re glad you brought that now!” You laughed, “Maybe I subconsciously knew…” A cough from behind you made you spin round and you gasped as a man stood right behind you, “May I please get past you? Thank you.” You felt him skim past your back and your knees practically melted at the slight accent and lilt in his voice, your eyes followed him as he walked to the other side of the garage to talk to some of the mechanics. Ollie gave a snort from beside you, “Hellooooo? Earth to Y/N!” His hand waved in front of your face and you slapped it away, looking at him with wide eyes, “Ollie. That was Charles Leclerc. The Charles Leclerc just spoke to me.”

Charles exhaled almost nervously as he walked past you. He had no clue who you were but he wanted to find out. You’d immediately caught his eye as soon as he’d walked into the garage and now he was hooked. He turned back subtly to look at you and felt his stomach sink as he watched you laugh with Ollie. Of course a pretty girl like you would already be taken. In your Ferrari jacket his mind started racing with thoughts of how you’d look with his number on your back or on your cap. Wait what? He didn’t even know you and he was fantasising about you. Clearly you were someone important to his new junior teammate and he needed to focus on the task at hand.

“You know you’re drooling,” Your brother joked and you hissed at him, punching his shoulder, barely taking your eyes off of Charles. Ollie rolled his eyes, “In my excitement I forgot about your little crush-,” A slap to his stomach had him doubling over and shutting up as you glared at him. “It’s not a crush!” You defended, “I just… respect him as a driver.” He scoffed, “Yeah right. Well when you’re done fangirling, I need your help.” You shook your head to clear your daydreams and turned to him, “What do you need?”

Your brother beckoned you to follow him back through the garage. Weaving between people and winding your way through the halls, he opened the door of his driver’s room and sank down onto the small couch that had been placed there. You watched as for a second his excited demeanour dropped, a hint of nervousness peeking through. He fumbled with his hands, cracking and clicking his knuckles, thumb absentmindedly scratching over the back of his hand. You sat down next to him and said nothing, just let your hand fall on top of his and give a gentle squeeze, “You’ll be fine.” With that one sentence you simply sat in silence. Ollie’s head dropped to your shoulder and you rested your head on his, understanding he just needed you there. All day he’d acted like he wasn’t nervous. He’d remained cool as a cucumber in front of the cameras and media, he’d sat through interview after interview, he’d met far too many people to remember who they actually all were, he was doing his best to get to grips with a new car after just one practice session and he had still not shown any signs of nervousness where the public or potential F1 employers could see. But you knew. Here in this room he wasn’t Ollie Bearman, F1 rookie or Ferrari's weekend hero, he was just your little brother and you’d give him that safe space as long as he needed.

You weren’t sure how long had passed just sitting on the couch but the hubbub and buzz of noise outside seemed to have increased even though it was muffled by the thin walls of the driver’s room. Ollie had since shifted to half-lie on the couch and you could see he’d fallen asleep, dozing before he needed to get in the car and focus for qualifying. You knew it was your brother’s way of getting the track ingrained in his head, so you wouldn’t disturb him yet. A knock pulled you from your reverie and you were quick to head to the door so they wouldn’t knock again and wake Ollie up. You opened the door a crack and poked your head out, “Yes? Oh-” You blinked up and saw two green eyes staring back at yours, “Hi? I thought Ollie would be in here?” You heard your brother groan on the couch behind you clearly disturbed by the talking and so you quickly exited the room, making sure to quietly close the door behind you. “He is! He’s just taking a nap!” You explained with what you hoped was a friendly and not-too-creepy smile. Charles nodded in understanding, “I bet it’s been a pretty intense weekend.” You gave a small laugh, nodding, “Yeah it has been for all of us!” Charles found himself getting a little flustered at your smile. When he’d knocked the door he hadn’t expected the pretty girl he’d seen earlier to answer. It had taken him a few seconds to psych himself up to even ask you if he could pass earlier and now here he was face-to-face with you in his teammate’s room doorway. He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve this chance but he would not let it go to waste!

“How are you finding it so far?” His heart skipped a beat as your face lit up, “It’s incredible! Definitely a step up from F2.” Ah so you’d been supporting Ollie for a long time. A best friend? Maybe a girlfriend? High school sweethearts? “So not your first time at a race then?” Charles asked curiously, “Definitely not! I don’t think I’ve ever missed one of Ol’s races since he got into F2.” Charles groaned internally, clearly you were off limits, but did his best to look interested. You gave a giggle at the impressed face Charles made, “That’s certainly dedication!” You nodded, “Of course!” “It’s good you get to be here for his first F1 weekend then. You seem like a very important person to him…” Charles gave a subtle dig for information and you were none the wiser to his motives, “Well he’s my little brother so of course I would be!” Charles froze, Ollie was your what? You were his sister? Charles wasn’t sure if that thought made him more nervous or more relieved. “You’re Ollie’s sister?” He asked incredulously, “Yes…” You replied hesitantly, unsure why his reaction was so serious. Charles felt himself exhaling in relief before he looked at your face, an eyebrow raised and your arms crossed, “Is that so unbelievable? I mean I know we don't look as alike as other siblings but...” He shook his head,

“No, no!” He scratched the back of his head awkwardly and looked away, not wanting to see your reaction to his next statement, “I just uhhh, I thought you might have been a girlfriend or something…” You couldn’t help the way the laughter tipped out of you, “Ew! No way!” You held a hand out to Charles, “Hi, I’m Y/N Bearman.” You emphasised your surname and Charles felt a grin stretching across his face that matched your own, “Charles.” You sighed internally at the sight of his dimples popping out and resisted the urge to poke them. “I actually noticed you earlier and I thought you were far too pretty to be any regular garage guest.” You giggled at his bold flirting, “Well I’m glad that you noticed me back then… There was no way someone as good looking as you can walk around without grabbing attention… Especially in the red suit…” With a wink, Charles found himself speechless, not something that was a common occurrence, especially when it came to flirting and talking to women, but he loved it. “So now we’ve cleared up that little mishap, could I maybe get your num–”

The door to the room behind you opening caught your attention and both you and Charles watched as Ollie appeared, stretching and inhaling deeply, “Oh there you are.” Charles felt his stomach flip with anxiety, hoping Ollie hadn’t heard him flirting with you. That would not look good for him or help his teammate's mental state. But damn, if he wasn’t more than a little disappointed… You seemed to have recovered quite well though, brushing off the previous conversation easily, “Good morning sunshine, sleep well?” “Mhmm,” Ollie leaned against you and nodded, “I needed that.” “We all need a pre-race nap sometimes,” Hearing Charles' voice caused Ollie to wake up fully, standing upright as he acknowledged the older driver.

“You’ll be fine mate.” Charles placed a hand on Ollie’s shoulder and squeezed, “I actually came to find you, thought I could talk you through how to handle some of the corners with the steering?” Ollie gave him a look of appreciation and together they headed back towards the garage. You felt yourself melt that Charles was doing his best to help your little brother and you watched with a dopey grin on your face as the two of them made their way down the hallway, “I’m gonna go find dad!” Ollie waved at you to signal he’d heard you before he was gone.

You took a moment, going back into the room and closing the door behind you. Holy shit you’d just had an entire conversation with Charles Leclerc, he had called you pretty and was he about to ask for your number? You huffed and rolled your eyes. Your brother had the shittiest timing sometimes.

❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀

With big red headphones on, you anxiously watched the screen. Your hands were clasped in front of you and you nervously brought them up to your face, almost not wanting to watch just in case anything went wrong. You got nervous watching Ollie every time he raced, but this weekend the stakes were higher and your nerves were more frazzled. Q1 had gone well but now the pressure was on. Pace was being set and each car seemed to be lapping faster and faster. You turned to look at your Dad who didn’t look any better than you. You reached across and grabbed his hand, giving it a squeeze. He smiled at you before you both turned your attention back to the big screens at the back of the garage. As your brother set out on his flying lap you found yourself yelling encouragement along with the mechanics and engineers in the garage, despite the fact he couldn’t hear you. “Come on Ollie!” You looked at the times up on the board already and willed your brother to get even a tenth of a second off their times.

You couldn’t have cared less about his time though as long as he made it back safely. You watched your brother’s car fly across the finish line and you waited with bated breath for the confirmation of his time to come through. You felt your dad’s hand squeeze yours before you were both cursing under your breath, 0.036 seconds. That’s all there was in it. You felt your Dad wrap you up in a hug, exhaling in relief that your brother had made it through qualifying safely.

You knew he’d be beating himself up when he came back to the garage and you took the bright Ferrari red headphones off your head, “Dad, I’m gonna go and wait for him,” Your dad nodded, already in conversation with some of the Ferrari engineers about how they could make race day easier for Ollie. You headed to his room, wanting to be there when he got back and you’d barely taken a seat before the door swung open and in came a slightly tense looking Ollie. “I know you’re going to tell me I did a good job and I appreciate that but I’m almost more frustrated that it was so close.” He sighed and you rubbed his shoulder comfortingly as he took a seat next to you, “I’m proud of you Ols.” He smiled gratefully as the door was pushed open an inch, “Uh… hello?” “Charles?” You were confused as the Monegasque man’s head poked round the door and he nodded at Ollie, “Solid drive mate!” Ollie grumbled next to you and you whacked his thigh, “Ow!” He huffed at you, and you glared at him as you tilted your head in Charles direction, “Sorry, thank you Charles.” Charles gave a laugh, “It’s okay, it happens to the best of us.” Another knock sounded through the room and one of Ollie’s engineers called for him to go and discuss some seat adjustments for the race. You stood up as he went to leave, “Hey! If you think I’m not giving you a bear hug after all that, you’re very much mistaken.” Ollie laughed and turned back round, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as you wrapped yours around his waist, squeezing slightly and hoping he could feel just how proud you were, “Love you stinky.” “Love you too dummy” He pulled away and left the room, closing the door behind him,

“Bear hug?” You looked at Charles who stood there with a slight smile across his face and a raised eyebrow, “Mhmm! They’re very special and you actually can’t give them without the necessary qualifications.” “Ah.” Charles said seriously, “And what qualifications are those?” You giggled, “The Bearman surname!” Charles felt a laugh rumble up from deep in his chest at your giggle. God you were spellbinding. “Your brother did an amazing job today.” You smiled in appreciation, speaking genuinely,

“Thank you.” “What are you up to this evening then?” “Oh uhhh… well I’ve been watching a new series recently so probably just watching a couple of episodes and maybe ordering room service…” You facepalmed internally at how boring you were making yourself sound to an F1 driver, “Sorry that probably sounds kinda sad huh?” Charles shook his head and waved his hands to emphasise himself, “No, no! It actually sounds… pretty nice…” For the briefest moment you considered how to reply before your mouth was opening and you couldn’t stop yourself, “You’re welcome to join me if you want?” you froze. Oh fuck. Had you just invited Charles Leclerc to binge watch Netflix with you and eat off the room service menu while you wore sweatpants and a crusty old t-shirt? “You don’t have to-” “I would love to-” “Oh.” You nervously giggled at each other before your eyes dropped to the floor, too shy to keep looking at him. “I would love to join you… if that’s okay?” You nodded enthusiastically, "Of course!” “Give me your number and I’ll text you when I’m on my way?" He held his phone out to you and you nodded, typing your number in and handing it back to him, “Great! You guys are staying at the same hotel as us tonight right?” You made a noise of confirmation, “Mhmm, they moved us for the weekend. I-I’m in room 604” You could have sworn Charles blushed as you said your room number.

You were so flustered that it appeared your brain wasn’t working correctly, your tongue getting tied as you tried to continue the conversation, “Uh, you don’t need to bring anything, clothing is optional.” “Excuse me?!” Charles froze as he stared at you. Did you just tell him that clothing was optional? He didn’t think you were that bold, or that you had an angle. His mind drifted to the thought of you opening the door naked for the quickest second before you realised you mistake and pulled him out of his thoughts, “Fuck no! I meant comfy clothing is optional! Like you can wear whatever, like sweatpants or even pyjamas if you wanted to, or-or-or if you really wanted you uhhh you could wear no clothes I guess but- wait no this isn’t me trying to get you naked I promise!” You finished your ramble panicking just as a loud laugh burst out of Charles. Your head dropped into your hands and you whined in embarrassment as Charles' hands found his knees, unable to stand up straight at how hard he was laughing. “Fuck you’re cute.” You inhaled sharply, eyes shooting down to the floor and biting your lip softly through a smile, “Oh?” “Mhmm” You felt your cheeks heat up as it sunk in that he’d called you cute, after you’d embarrassed yourself no less! “Anyway…” Charles attempted to move the conversation forward, desperate to make you gasp again like you had a moment ago, “I’ll be there later,” He moved towards the door, leaning in as he did so “I hope clothing is optional for you too.” And with a brush of his shoulder against yours he was gone. Noise from the hallway and nearby garages poured in through the open door and you didn’t move until Ollie came back, “What happened to you?” “N-nothing! Just talked with Charles a bit.” Ollie wiggled his eyebrows and you scoffed giving him a shove, “Come on, I’m done so we’re gonna go back to the hotel! I need sleep.”

❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀

You rushed around your hotel room, ensuring any stray socks or underwear were tucked away in your case and any possible embarrassing items were safely hidden out of sight. Thankfully you'd found a slightly less crusty and slightly less old t-shirt in your suitcase and you'd thrown that on over over some shorts that were a considerably more socially acceptable choice than your tattered travel sweatpants.

Your eyes swept around the room and gave one final check. Charles had texted five minutes ago to say that he was on his way up and so you knew there would be a knock at the door any second. Grabbing some extra pillows from the closet, you placed them on the bed and pulled up Netflix just in time for the door to sound. “Coming!” You raced over to the door before stopping, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly, checking your appearance one last time in the mirror. You opened the door, “Do you have a spare toothbrush?” “Ollie?!” “Yes…? It’s me? Your brother?” Ollie looked at you suspiciously as you stuck your head out of the door and looked up and down the corridor, “Are you expecting someone?” You choked on air, “Me?! Expecting someone? Pfft, no!” Though you had been thanking those higher powers earlier in the day, you now cursed them out as at the end of the corridor the elevator dinged, both yours and Ollie’s heads snapped to look as the doors opened and there stood Charles. Ollie looked at you and gave a laugh, “Not expecting anyone, hmm?” Your eyes widened. “He’s not here for me!” Ollie crossed his arms and looked at you expectantly, “Oh no?” You felt your heart race as Charles came down the corridor. You sighed and looked at Ollie, trying to sense how he felt about it, “If it makes you mad or upset or uncomfortable then no, he's not here for me.”

Charles approached the two of you and slowed his pace, sensing a conversation was happening that he didn’t need to hear, but still he couldn’t deny that he was curious. It was obvious you were talking about him. Ollie’s arms dropped to grab your shoulders, “Y/N, you’ve already given up an insane amount for me to be able to pursue this… Why would I ever be mad about you wanting a fun date night?” You pursed your lips, “It’s not a date.” Ollie’s facial expression dead panned, “Yuh huh, okay, and I’m gonna win the race tomorrow.” You flicked his forehead and heard Charles stifle a laugh to the side. “Just wait here, I’ll get you the toothbrush.” You grumbled going back into the hotel room. Charles coughed nervously as he stood in front of Ollie. Though he was younger than Charles, he was taller and Charles found the way he was staring at him ever so slightly intimidating. “Don’t keep her up late, don’t do anything to upset her and if you make her cry I’ll turn you into the wall tomorrow.” Ollie glared at him and Charles chuckled nervously, “Noted. I would never want to make her cry,” Ollie watched as Charles stared after you with a dopey smile, “I do wanna make her smile though, her smile is pretty.” Ollie coughed a laugh into his hand, Charles was seemingly already down bad and he knew you were too. “Can I ask a question?” Ollie nodded, “Shoot.” “What did you mean by she’s given up a lot for you?” Ollie sighed, shuffling his feet almost uncomfortably. “Dad couldn’t travel with me because of work, Mum couldn’t leave our other siblings at home because they were too young so it was Y/N that moved around with me and travelled with me.” Charles nodded, encouraging Ollie to continue, “She didn’t go on dates or go out clubbing with friends or get a boyfriend because she left it all behind for me. She even decided to not go to uni... She says she doesn’t mind but…” He trailed off, “You still feel bad?” Charles finished for him. Ollie shrugged, “Wouldn’t you? She says she got to travel more than anyone else her age and got to experience tons of stuff while seeing the world so I guess to her it doesn’t matter as much.” Charles hummed, starting to understand just how close you and Ollie were. “You know when Arthur got sick last year it was Y/N that took care of him and drove him to the hospital?” Charles head whipped up to look at Ollie, “That was Y/N?” “Yep. She drove him to the hospital and stayed with him all night, then brought him back home the next day. She made him soup and helped him take all his medicine on time and stuff.” Charles found his heart growing even warmer. He’d remembered how panicked both he and his mother had been when they learned the youngest Leclerc was extremely unwell, until his mother had received a call to say someone was looking after him - now he knew it was you! Ollie smiled to himself, glad that in some roundabout way he was now able to do something for you. It was clear you and Charles were already both smitten with each other. “Got it!” You reappeared at the door and flourished the toothbrush under his nose. “Thank you!” “Mhmm! What were you guys talking about?” “Race strategies-” “The room service menu-” Your eyes narrowed slightly as they gave different answers at the same time and you looked between them, “O…kay…? Cool… Well, you need to relax.” You gave Ollie a look and he saluted, turning round and heading back to his room a few doors down, “Yes coach!” You shook your head before turning to Charles and opening the door wider, “You coming in?”

He smiled and made his way into your room, noting how you’d added a few little touches here and there to make it feel like home even though you were thousands of miles away, “Cute pictures,” Charles wandered over to the vanity where you had put up some small pictures of your family and friends at home, pictures of you and Ollie at various tourist spots round the world and a few family pets. “It makes the distance a little less… distance-y.” “I get it.” “Soooo uhhh…” You stood in the middle of the room and nervously kicked your foot into the floor, “I see we both decided to wear clothes.” Charles smirked and you couldn’t help the chuckle that burst out, “Indeed we did.” “I can’t pretend I’m not slightly disappointed…” He gave you his best attempt at a wink and you hid a smile behind your hand, “I’m still working on it…” He huffed. As he stood there pouting you took in the sight of him in front of you. Dressed in soft grey sweatpants and a white sweatshirt he looked like the epitome of cosy soft boyfriend vibes. “Are you hungry?” Charles took the lead and you were internally thankful for that. “Kind of? We could have a look and see what takes our fancy? Although I’m pretty sure that the majority of the items listed are not approved by your PT…” Charles waved you off, “We all break our diets more regularly than you’d except.” “Tell me about it… I keep having to remind Ollie that chicken nuggets are not nutritious and healthy all the time.” Charles tipped his head back and let out a laugh and you found yourself unable to stop giggling along with him. The laughter eased the remaining tension and you settled onto the bed, patting the spot next to you to encourage him to sit.

The two of you sat on the bed, perusing the menu and selecting what you wanted before he called down to order it. While you waited you talked about anything and everything. The race tomorrow, how warm it was in Jeddah, your favourite places you’d travelled to, musicians you listened to regularly. You found yourself falling into conversation with him so easily, it was difficult to remember that you’d only known each other for a few hours. When the food arrived Charles was firm in getting you to stay sat down while he answered the door, determined to treat you like a princess.

“Charles, I can walk to the door!” You giggled, “Non! You will wait here and I will go.” He bowed before he walked to the door and you rolled your eyes, a smile plastered across your face. “Here you are, madame, your food.” “Why thank you kind sir.” Taking the plate from him you fluffed up the pillow behind you, clicking on your laptop to reload Netflix. “What do you feel like watching? Drive to Survive?” You asked, doing your best to hold in your laughter when Charles’ head shot up, looking ever so slightly traumatised, “Absolutely not!” You fell into laughter as he climbed onto the bed next to you, “How about a Studio Ghibli movie?” he nodded, taking a bite of his food, “The music is beautiful! I think you’d really like it!” “Let’s do it!” You nodded, clicking on Howl’s Moving Castle and loading it up.

The two of you watched the movie in silence for a while and you watched as Charles’ fingers tapped along in time with the rhythm of the music. You felt yourself getting swept up in the story, not even noticing Charles’ eyes on you. “I love this part!” You sat up a little and Charles followed suit, subtly moving his arm to rest behind you. You glanced around to see his hand almost over your shoulder and you felt your cheeks heat up quickly. “S-sorry!” He went to move, “N-no, it’s okay…” You looked at him and moved a little closer until your thigh was touching his and his arm was fully around you. Charles smiled down at you as you settled back down and got comfy. God he could get used to this… He daydreamed for a second about getting to do this with you after every race weekend. For the rest of the film, you stayed firmly in Charles embrace, even daring to place one of your hands in his as the characters on screen also held hands. Soft smiles and shy glances were all you exchanged occasionally. You did your absolute best to fight the wave of sleepiness threatening to overtake you but with the heat from Charles’ body and the cosy bed and the soft music of the film, you couldn’t help the way your eyes slipped shut. Your head dropped to rest between his shoulder and chest as the credits rolled and Charles looked down as best he could to see you asleep. He smiled to himself, refusing to move even when his shoulder started to cramp up. He looked at the clock on the wall across the room and realised he had better sleep. After all, he still had a race to drive. He slowly shuffled, careful to support your head as he laid you down on the pillow. You sighed in your sleep and shuffled closer to him, seeking out the warmth he provided. Charles found himself facing an internal battle. Did he stay and risk you feeling uncomfortable and offended or leave and risk you feeling upset he didn’t stay? As he debated the correct answer, you made the decision for him. Half-awake you tugged on the sleeve of his sweater. “Don’t go… warm…” You whined and he completely melted, sliding onto the bed next to you and lying on his back. You felt his heart race as you cuddled into his side and rested your head on his chest. Charles gently ran his hand up and down your arm soothingly as you dozed on his chest. “Hey Y/N?” He said lowly, “Mhmm?” You blinked sleepily, “Would it be okay if I kissed your forehead amour?” You nodded, “More than okay,” With a contented sigh, you relaxed once more, Charles leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. There was a pause before he leant down to kiss your forehead again, only to find his lips against yours. The two of you pulled apart quickly, you were now wide awake and sat up next to him while he led there in shock, eyes wide. If you weren’t so surprised, you probably would have laughed at the way Charles lips almost seemed stuck in a pout before he raced to sit up and apologise, “Fuck I’m so sorry!” He cried, “You’re sorry? I’m sorry!” Your eyes mirrored his, “I shouldn’t have just leaned down to kiss you again.” “It’s okay Charles really… I…” You went quiet for a moment and he gently reached for your hand, “What is it?” You bit your lip, not daring to look at him. “I-I…” “Take your time amour.” He smiled at you encouragingly as his thumb gently rubbed over the back of your hand, “I kind of liked it…” You whispered, eyes squeezing shut, “Only kind of?” He asked, genuinely, not wanting to scare you. “C-can we try again?” You opened your eyes and felt him gently tilt your chin to look up at him, “You want to try again?” You nodded and Charles shook his head, “Non mon ange, I need to hear you say it. I’m not going to kiss you without you telling me it’s okay-” “Please. Charles. I want you to kiss me… I just might not be very good at it, you see I haven’t really had much practice so please forgive me if its bad…”

Any remaining words died on your tongue as Charles cupped your face with the hand that had been holding your chin and his other arm wrapped around your waist and tugged you a little closer to him. “Just follow my lead ma belle.” Your eyes fluttered closed as his breath swept across your lips. You expected to feel his lips against yours but you were pleasantly surprised at the feeling of his lips kissing your forehead once more. Your eyes stayed shut as he pressed a soft kiss to one cheek, then the other. A quick peck to the nose left your giggling, before he placed a kiss to your jawline that left you breathless, “Please… Charles…” His lips were almost on yours again and you felt them brush yours slightly as he spoke, “Please what mon ange?” “Kiss me.” Any little part of you that had been frustrated by his teasing only moments ago was certainly glad of it now. It made the moment his lips touched yours all that much sweeter. Any nerves melted away as he held you gently.

There was no heavy panting or biting, no licking or sucking. Just his lips caressing yours. Your head spun as he finally pulled away to let you take a breath just for a moment. You chased his lips, not quite ready to let him go yet and he let out a contented hum at the way you pressed your lips to him once more. He swore he fell even harder when you smiled into the kiss. You gasped when he pulled you into his lap and the kiss fell apart as you both dissolved into giggles. Your tummy flipped in the most delightful way as his nose gently rubbed against yours, “Was that okay?” Your hands linked around the back of his head and found the short hair there, gently threading your fingers through and twisting it round. You leaned down to whisper, “My turn…” His eyes closed, blissfully as you traced your own kisses across his face, in awe of the way his long lashes sat on his cheeks. You placed a small kiss on top of the freckle on his cheek and giggled at the way his stubble tickled your nose and lips, he opened his eyes and watched your wiggling your nose, “Tickles.” He placed his hands on your hips and softly rubbed his thumbs just under your shirt. You smiled down at him and nodded, “Words ma belle.” “Yes Charles, you can.” He smiled up at you and pouted to ask for a kiss, “Merci ma belle.” He slid his hands under your shirt to gently hold your hips and feel the soft skin there. You rested your head on his shoulder, enjoying the closeness and the comfort he was providing. “I’m so glad I asked you to come over.” A kiss to your forehead was your answer, “Me too…”

Neither of you moved for a few minutes, just feeling each other breathe. Feeling how your heart rates slowed after racing from the excitement of kissing. You hadn’t even noticed yourself getting sleepy again but Charles had. “Ma belle, I need to go…” You nodded but didn’t move, Charles chuckled, “Ma belle?” “Do you have to?” Charles cooed at how sleepy you sounded, “If I stay here I won’t sleep, I’ll just want to kiss you and hold you all night and I have a race tomorrow.” You conceded and lifted your head but remained in his lap, “That was actually my plan.” Charles head tilted, “Distract the competition so Ollie can sneak through.” Charles head dropped to your collarbone with a laugh, “So sneaky mon ange…” You nodded, climbing off of his lap and taking a seat next to him. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He stood up but found himself unable to help leaning back down to kiss you just once… twice… three times more. You pushed his chest and smiled, “Go Charles! I’ll see you in the morning.” He let himself out of your room and as soon as the door had closed you were squealing into your pillow, giddy with excitement and stomach full of butterflies.

And if Charles did the same thing when he got back to his room? Well that was his business.

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“Good morning!” “You are far too happy this morning. What happened with Charles? Did you kiiiiiiiiss him?” You glared at Ollie who stood in the door of your hotel room making kissy faces at you. “Whatever happened between me and Charles is between us.” You grabbed your bag and headed towards the elevator at the end of the hallway, Ollie easily falling into step beside you, “So something did happen?” “Maybe! I don’t see how it’s any of your business anyway.” Your brother knocked his shoulder into yours, turning serious, “It’s not. It’s just nice to see you so happy.” You stood in front of the elevator doors and turned to Ollie, “Thanks Ols.” “But also I need to know if I need to crash him into the wall today.” “hUH?!”

When you reached the Ferrari garage, you were excited to support your brother but also excited to see Charles again. You spotted him not long after entering the garage, his back was to you but even seeing the back of his head was enough to send you into a smile that alerted everyone in the near vicinity that you had it bad for the man wearing number 16. One of the mechanics stood with him greeted Ollie and Charles turned round, face breaking into an identical grin at the sight of you in a Ferrari red dress. Your Dad elbowed you, “Is there something going on I need to know about? Spill the tea bestie” He wiggled his eyebrows and you snorted, leaning into him and bumping your head against his shoulder affectionately, “There’s no tea to spill dad, and Ollie, stop teaching Dad phrases you think he needs to know!” Your Dad and Ollie laughed as you made your way over to Charles, “Hi.” “Hi. You look beautiful.” Charles found himself breathless as he took in your full appearance. “Did you get any sleep?” A goofy grin crept across his face, “Filled with dreams of you ma belle, I slept wonderfully. And you?” You nodded, “Something similar I guess…” “You guess?” “Mhmm…” You gasped as you felt his hand slowly grab yours, his fingers interlocking with yours, “Charles! What if someone sees?” “I don’t mind people seeing me holding hands with the prettiest girl at the race today.” You gently tapped his chest and shook your head, “You’re so silly.” You looked across the garage as you heard Ollie’s laugh and Charles’ face turned serious, he gave your hand a gentle squeeze to get your attention, “I actually wanted to say that I totally understand that you’re here for Ollie today. It’s lovely to see you but I’m not going to take you away from supporting your brother when he needs you.” You gave his hand a squeeze back in appreciation, “Thank you Charles. We’ll catch up later though! Good luck, race safe!”

Charles felt his cheek turning as red as his car as you placed a gentle kiss to his cheek before darting across the garage with a giggle. He stared after you with a dumb lovestruck look on his face, one hand coming up to hold his cheek, “Oh my friend, you have it bad, no?” Charles whirled round to see Carlos and some of the engineers staring at him, amused looks on their faces. “I wish they hadn’t let you leave the hospital today.” Carlos laughed, wincing slightly as he did so, “And miss our little Charles in love? No way! This is more entertaining than the race will be.”

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You stood with Ollie in the garage as he waited until the last second to get in the car. “You ready?” He inhaled, “I guess we’ll find out huh? It’s now or never…” You smiled at him, handing him his helmet. You had your pre-race routine with Ollie that consisted of making sure he had one last sip of water, helping him put his helmet on before kissing where his forehead would be inside the helmet and finally a bear hug. You’d done it before every race since he was in his karting days and his debut F1 race would be no different. Charles caught sight of this and smiled. It was good that the young driver had such a great support system. In a slightly weird way he was almost envious that he didn't have someone to do those things for him. He watched as you held Ollie's bottle up to his lips before placing it to the side, buckling his helmet up once it was on his head. Charles' heart grew warm as he watched Ollie bend down so you could reach to kiss his forehead. You and Ollie were unaware of your audience, just completely in your own little bubble. "Can't believe I have to bend for you to reach my forehead now." It was a throwaway comment from Ollie but it left you with tears welling up in your eyes. Oh how he'd grown. When this ritual first started he was just a kid. Far shorter than you, almost looking too small for his kart. He had been so young but his dreams were big. You felt your bottom lip quiver as you watched your brother's dreams become reality in front of your eyes. You knew he felt guilty that you'd given so much up. "Bear hug?" You asked, holding your arms out. Ollie wrapped you up in the tightest hug he could manage, "Thank you." He didn't need to say what for. You knew. "If I had to, I'd do it all over again." He squeezed you just a little more before he was pulling away and climbing into that red car that he'd long dreamed of. You felt your dad come alongside you and pull you into his side, the two of you both misty-eyed with tearful smiles.

Watching his car leave the garage for the grid you couldn't help the way you looked around for Charles. You caught sight of him and approached him, "Are you alright ma belle?" You wiped your eyes hastily, "Yeah, just a little overwhelmed?" Charles gave an understanding nod, "It makes perfect sense mon ange." You cleared your throat, "But I have another pre-race ritual to complete." Charles eyes shot to yours, "unless you already have one and then I won't interfere-" "Please." You gave him a soft smile and took his helmet from him to allow him to do up his suit properly, "What do you still need to do?" Charles looked almost shy as he gave his request, "Could you help me put my helmet on?" Your cheeks felt warm as you nodded, gently tugging on his helmet to pull it down when he grabbed your wrists, "Wait." "What?" Your eyes searched his, worried you'd somehow hurt him or done it wrong, his face broke into a grin, "Can I get a kiss before my helmet goes on?" You looked around the garage, everyone busy with their own jobs and not really paying you much attention. "Are you sure?" Charles nodded. You looked for a small space of skin not covered by his balaclava and pressed a light kiss to his cheek just under his eye. His eyes shut as if he was savouring the moment before he nodded at you to pull his helmet down. He watched your face contort into an expression of concentration as you buckled his helmet up with so much precision and care. "What comes next?" "Help me with my gloves?" His voice was muffled through the helmet, you nodded and took his gloves from him. Helping him put one on and squeezing that hand before switching to the other one. "Can I suggest one last thing?" He nodded, "I think you should have a bear hug." You couldn't see his smile through his helmet but the way he enthusiastically pulled you into his arms told you all you needed to know. You stood there for a moment just enjoying the feeling of his arms around you. You rested your head on his chest and sighed. His hand gently caressed up and down your back before he was being called to climb into his car. You squeezed him one last time for good measure before he was gone and off to line up for the start of the race.

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Your throat was sore from all the yelling and screaming you'd done at the screen, your legs were about to give out from the adrenaline rush and your cheeks hurt from the smiling you'd done. You had tears in your eyes again as you watched your brother cross the line in 7th for his first ever F1 grand prix. Turning to hug your dad you nodded at Carlos who sat across the garage. He gave you a warm smile and a knowing wink as the garage began rushing to the podium for Charles. You were bouncing on your feet as you waited to see Ollie, Charles, either of them, both of them?

The pitlane was packed as fans, teams and reporters all swarmed down to the podium. And there, pushing his way through all of it, was Ollie. You couldn't help the scream that left your throat as you sprinted to him. Pulling him into a huge hug. "Oh my god bear." You practically sobbed, "I'm so fucking proud of you!" Ollie slid his helmet off and his face was lit up, "Oh my god that was amazing! Intense, but amazing!" You giggled as he moved his neck experimentally before wincing, "Yeah I'm gonna need a physio appointment like... as soon as possible." You let out a laugh, "Dad was already on it by about lap four don't worry!" "Thank fuck." Your brother exhaled, eyes widening dramatically. You observed the way the podium was getting increasingly busy. "Go." Ollie looked at you, "You know you want toooo..." He sang, "But..." "No buts, butts are for sitting." Ollie, closed his eyes as if he would hear no further arguments. He leant in close, "I think it would mean a lot to him too." "Ollie I can't just g-" "Excuse me, Carlos?" Ollie called to the older driver, "You're going the the podium aren't you?" Carlos motioned that he was, "Are you going to?" You looked at Ollie and he gave an encouraging nod, "Go!" You looked at Carlos, "Lead the way."

It was packed. You wondered if Carlos should really be making his way through the crowd given his condition, but they almost seemed to part for him. It certainly made things easier for you so you couldn’t complain. You stood next to Carlos right in front of the barrier underneath the podium. You were just in time. The announcer spoke Charles' name and he walked out onto the podium, he had a huge grin that stretched from cheek to cheek. He stood there for a moment before looking down at his team Charles felt his heart stop. There was no way. Was there? You were stood celebrating his podium? Charles had never wanted a podium ceremony to be over quicker in his life. He was dying to get back down there and hold you in his arms again, maybe even kiss you if he was lucky. As he was handed his trophy he looked down once more, pointing at you. To the cameras it would look like he was pointing at his mechanics, or even Carlos. But you knew. Even though he was fairly far away from you he could still see how your eyes shone up at him. The way they sparkled not just under the floodlights of the track but from the way you were just looking at him. You weren’t aware of anything around you. Not Carlos smirking at the way you and Charles watched each other, not the music, not the champagne, nor the fireworks that now exploded in the sky above Jeddah rivalling the fireworks that were going off in your tummy at the way Charles gazed at you with so much adoration.

As soon as he could, Charles was racing off the podium and Carlos led you back to the Ferrari garage where he would soon appear. You waited, almost pacing back and forth. Ollie watched you knowingly, “You really like him huh?” You froze, “Is it that obvious?!” Ollie scoffed, “Uh? Yes!” You rolled your eyes before Carlos called your name, “Y/N you can wait in his room if you want? It’s opposite Ollie’s.” You nodded and wound your way through the now familiar corridors of Ferrari’s garage. You made it to Charles' room and settled down on the couch. Now to wait.

You didn’t have to wait long before the door was bursting open and a champagne drenched Charles was striding across the room, placing his trophy down on the couch before sweeping you into his arms, nose tracing up your neck, “Ma belle…” “Charles! That tickles!” Charles laughed and your legs went weak as you felt his chest rumble against you. “Wanted to do this as soon as I got out of the car.” He mumbled. You gently held his face in your hands and brought his face up to look at you, “Congratulations handsome.” Charles smiled, leaning in before catching himself and stopping with a groan, “Can I kiss you? Please say yes ma belle… Please fuck… I need to kiss you, it’s all I've wanted to do since the race ended, need to kiss you, please?” “Yes, Charles.” “Thank you amour.” His lips met yours and you sighed as you tasted the sweet champagne from his lips. He was sticky and sweaty but he was so Charles. You hummed happily before he gently bit your lip, eliciting a whine from you. He growled a little at the sound before pulling away, “We need to stop ma belle.” “Awww…” You pouted and he laughed, poking the lip that was jutting out. “I’m not going to do this with you in my driver’s room of all places, especially when I’m sweaty and covered in champagne.” “I don’t know…” Your arms circled his neck as you leaned into him, “I think it’s a good look.” His hands found your hips and he couldn’t help the way his thumbs traced tiny circles.

“You know… I think you should come to F1 races more often…” “Oh?” “Mhmm” Charles looked at you, “I think your ritual got me my podium today.” You stared at him for a second before laughing, “You think so?” He pressed a final kiss to your lips and nodded, “Absolutely!” “Then I think I need to come and stand in the Ferrari garage more often.” Charles pulled you into a hug, “That sounds perfect.”

❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ BONUS INSTAGRAM POSTS

y/nbearman

Liked by olliebearman, scuderiaferrari and 23,196 others y/nbearman little weekend photodump ft. very on brand red outfits, the nicest hospitality and garage I've ever stood in, Ollie's first F1 race and post-race dinner and Dad's first TV interview for sky sports

View all 4,157 comments olliebearman Think that was definitely Dad's favourite part of the weekend ⤷ y/nbearman Papa bear for commentator 2025? Comment liked by skysportsf1 and olliebearman ⤷ olliebearman ICON

bearmanfan they have the cutest sibling relationship I swear 🥺 lalaleclerc PLS TELL ME Y'ALL ALSO SAW CHARLES LOOKING AT HER IN THE GARAGE ⤷ charleswifey omg yesssss 😭 he really thought no one was looking but there was a whole ass camera on him ⤷ y/nbearman wHAT? ⤷ lalaleclerc oops 🥹

charles_leclerc can't wait to have you in the garage again ma belle Comment liked by y/nbearman ⤷ y/nbearman looking forward to it handsome ⤷ f1f1fan wait. WHAT? ⤷ bearmanfam Y/N AND CHARLES?!

scuderiaferrari We're so glad you had a good weekend! Ollie is our new fave 🫶🏼 ⤷ charles_leclerc ouch ⤷ carlossainz55 I've been gone less than one weekend 🧍‍♂️ ⤷ y/nbearman you're so real for this admin I approve ⤷ scuderiaferrari ❤️❤️

charlesandcarlos I had no clue who this girl was until they said on the commentary that she was Ollie's sister, damn they have good genes ⤷ y/nfanpage isn't she the prettiest!! ⤷ olllie charles has good taste Comment liked by charles_leclerc ⤷ charlessss does anyone know what she does for a living? ⤷ bearmanfam it's actually so sweet 🥺 she gave up on going to uni and following her own career path for a while to travel with Ollie and support him in F2! she's basically his PA, manager, photographer, nutritionist, therapist, best friend and sister rolled into one ⤷ charlessss holy shit 🧍‍♀️ we STAN her

bearmanhug is it just me that thought we'd get a really mushy post from y/n like when Ollie finished the F2 season last year? ⤷ ferrarifan no same here ⤷ y/nbearman oh it's incoming don't worry 🤭 ⤷ ferrawri OH FUCK WE AREN'T READY

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y/nbearman

Liked by olliebearman, charles_leclerc and 21,874 others y/nbearman to say that I'm proud of you is an understatement. you make me proud every day no matter whether you win or lose not just on the track but off too. but this weekend I'm in absolute awe of you. the results you've achieved just show the hard work and dedication you've put into this sport. I know your passion to succeed and improve will take you far! this is just the beginning of amazing things to come. forever proud of you and I've always got your back. I love you to the end of the line baby bear ❤️❤️❤️ tagged: @.olliebearman

View all 3,562 comments olliebearman love you too sun bear Comment liked by y/nbearman

bearmanfam OH MY GOD THERE'S SO MUCH TO UNPACK 😭 ⤷ bearmanfam ollie once said in an interview that his sister always makes him smile and lights up his day and that's why he calls her sun bear! she calls him baby bear because he's younger than her ⤷ charlesandcarlos I'm pretty sure she used red hearts bc he drove for Ferrari this week 🥹 Comment liked by y/nbearman ⤷ bearmanfam omg YES ❤️ ⤷ charlesandcarlos CONFIRMED ❤️

charles_leclerc superb driving today! you should absolutely be proud. keep driving like that and it won't be long until we'll be sharing the track every week @.olliebearman Comment liked by y/nbearman and olliebearman ⤷ carlossainz55 no doubt about it!

lewishamilton amazing job today kid 💜 leclerclove The way the old photos are in black and white and the photos from the weekend are in colour like it's a new era 😭 ⤷ smoothoperatorrr omg I didn't think of that 😭😭 ⤷ charleswifeyyyy The childhood pictures are so fucking cute too 😭

landonorris great results today! can't wait to see what you do in the future! ferrariiiii "I love you to the end of the line" AS IN THE FINISH LINE?! ⤷ f1fan STOP OH MY GOD 😭😭😭 carlossssainzzz I'm not ashamed to say that I sobbed like a baby reading this post 🥹 like it's so clear that they love and support one another ⤷ scuderiaferrari we're crying too! 🥹❤️ Comment liked by y/nbearman and olliebearman

f1fannnn all the drivers commenting their support and congratulations 😭

fanoferrari "this is just the beginning" I-🥹😭 ⤷ olsbearmannn "you make me proud every day"

maxverstappen1 An amazing drive mate!

#mimi.writes #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #ollie bearman x reader #ollie bearman x you #ollie bearman fluff #charles leclerc instagram au #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 one shot #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 oneshot

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oreoluvskento · 3 months

Text

hate sex w nanami

a/n: uhhhh heres that hate sex fic i promised two months ago :D my bad yall i got really busy and lost all motivation to keep writing on here, but i'm back now :)

cw: female reader, wrote this with black reader in mind but no mention of specific race, NOT PROOFREAD, no use of y/n, cunnilingus, overstimulation, cum swallowing, brat tamer nanami, brat reader, im very horny, that should be me honestly

"fuck, what are we doing?" you ask as you and nanami kiss feverishly. he climbs up onto his desk with you, laying you down onto your back roughly.

"don't know," he growls, his hand coming up to cup your jaw as he kisses his way down to your neck. your eyes widen as he bites you, and you feel your knees go weak when he pushes his thigh against your throbbing core while sucking your neck at the same time.

"i thought you couldn't stand me," you moan, rutting yourself against him, to which he groans at. he reaches down and tugs your pants off, your legs kicking them away.

"i can't," he answers, now tossing your underwear to the side and kissing his way down your thighs.

about two minutes earlier, you and nanami were just yelling at each other about your recent mission. you had a plan and nanami completely disregarded it for it's lack of, well, planning. you were more erratic and spontaneous, wanting to go with the flow, while nanami was more calculated and careful, always wanting to stay organized.

you barged in immediately after your checkup with shoko, still fuming because he ignored you when you tried to ask him on your way back about why the plans changed. you complained to shoko about it, to which she said "instead of yelling at me, why not go yell at him," to which you took literally.

nanami didn't acknowledge you once ever since you came in, which infuriated you even further. although his face was stoic, a slightly noticeable vein was popping out of his forehead and his fingers were gripping his pen tighter.

you spun him around in his seat, still complaining in his face, your noses almost touching, which ended up being his last straw. "you are incredibly childish, irresponsible, and i simply have no respect for you at all! you endanger our lives every time we go on a mission together, but all you can think about is how much fun you're having! you're selfish, and honestly a little bit dense, and i wish you'd shut up and leave, you're disturbing my peace."

your eyes widen as he speaks, his voice barely raising but his anger clearly showing. "you can kiss my ass." you grit and the look of disgust that appears on his face makes you even angrier. before you can say anything, he beats you to it.

"please leave," he says, standing up and now looking down at you.

feeling stubborn, you stand your ground and cross your arms. "no," you childishly protest and he leans his head back with a sigh.

"leave or-"

"or what?" you interrupt, moving closer to him and something in the atmosphere changes. for you it could've been the way he looked at you with such an intimidating expression, one that made you submit almost too quickly. for him it could've been the way you were pressed up against him, your chest against his and your pelvises almost touching.

before you could process what was going on, you were sitting on his desk, his lips attacking yours furiously and you were kissing him back.

his mouth is now on your pussy, eating you out like you were his favorite meal, his anger fueling his actions. "fuck don't stop, it feels so good," you moan and nanami grunts against your clit.

"stop fucking talking," he growls, his tongue darting back out to play with your clit and you slide your hands into his hair.

"fuck...you," you respond, breathless as he continues to mercilessly eat you out. nanami sucks your clit into his mouth over and over again, essentially treating it as a pacifier, and just when you think you're about to cum, he stops and inserts two fingers inside you.

"who knew something so sweet could come out of someone so bitter," he teases, watching as your pussy swallows his digits. you're unable to speak properly, your mouth open mid gasp and your back arching off the table. nanami speeds up, the sound making him even harder, and you finally gain your ability to speak again.

"shut up and eat- oh fuck- me out," you moan, pushing his head back onto your pussy and he complies, slurping away what has been produced by his ministrations. you choke on another moan and rut your hips against his face, to which he responds by holding your hips in place with his free hand. now completely controlling your pleasure, nanami fingers you faster, the tips of his fingers constantly brushing against your g-spot and before you knew it, you were having an orgasm.

you struggle to stay quiet as your body lights up but you find it difficult as nanami refuses to let up, his fingers fighting against your constricting walls and his tongue still hard at work on your clit. as you come down, you truly start to feel the overstimulation and try to pull away. "mm mm, stay right here. you should've left when i told you to. now it's my turn," he says, muffled by your pussy and you cry out when he starts sucking your sensitive clit again.

"please, its too much, i can't," you plead but it falls onto deaf ears as he goes on. nanami adds another finger and your eyes roll to the back of your head, the stretch adding a new sensation to focus on.

"if only you were as obedient as your pussy. look at how she sucks me right in," he coos and you subconsciously get tighter at his teasing. he chooses not to say anything about it yet, and focuses on stretching you out for his dick. your breathing picks up and nanami recognizes the cues for your next orgasm so he dives back onto your clit, spitting on it and slurping it loosely.

you cum unexpectedly this time and nanami keeps fucking you through it, your body thrashing against his hold. he finally pulls away from you, sitting up to look at your blissed out face. you open your eyes when he grabs onto your jaw with one hand and prods at your mouth with the other.

"open," he commands and you do as he says, the fuzz in your brain stopping you from thinking clearly. he puts his fingers into your mouth and you moan as you suck away the mess on them. he pulls you off the desk and leans you against it, your upper body folded over it now.

he pushes his clothed erection against you from behind and groans when you push back against him. nanami thinks about teasing you some more but he has a meeting with yaga about your partnership soon and he's racing against time. he quickly pulls his dick out, the tip turning slightly red as it's been begging for attention sine he kissed you.

your head is down when he pushes into you and you snap it up when you feel the way it stretches you out. a high pitched moan escapes you and nanami slaps his hand over your mouth while pulling you up to talk to you. "shut up, i'm not even all the way in yet," he rasps and you et out a sound of desperation.

once he bullies the rest of his cock inside of you, he pulls out and snaps his hips back into yours, and if it wasn't for his hand on your mouth, the entire academy would've heard the moan that came out of you. nanami sets a relentless pace, his anger towards you growing the louder you get.

"you really don't know how to be quiet, huh?" he growls, pushing all the way into you, shimmying his hips to get deeper, and you fall over, stopping yourself from moaning this time. tears come to your eyes and he fucks you deeply, the pleasure too much for you to handle and your knees going weak. nanami realizes you effort and scoffs to himself. "so you do know how to follow directions? i knew it wouldn't take much to put a brat like you in her place," he says and nod furiously, not even sure of what he's saying.

he speeds up now, his eyes fixated on the way your ass jiggles every time he thrusted into it. your pussy begins squeezing him like it did earlier but nanami isn't having it. he pulls you up by your hair and grabs you by your throat. "you'll wait, do you understand me? hold it until i say you can cum," he instructs and you let out a whine in protest. ultimately, you listen, and although it was extremely hard to focus on not cumming, you succeed.

nanami takes the hand on your throat and begins rubbing your clit with it. "make sure you stay quiet just like this. go ahead and cum for me," he says and not even a second later your gushing all over his dick. he moans out curses as you cum, your pussy holding onto his dick and when you're done, he pulls out. he yanks your shoulder and pushes you onto the ground, and you catch on, taking his dick in your hand and stroking it.

this is your first time seeing it and god was it big. you take the tip in your mouth and bob your way down his shaft, wanting to feel it in your throat. nanami moans as you suck him off and before long, he cums in your mouth. you swallow it as it comes and when he's done, he pulls you back to your feet. he carries you onto the desk and rubs the side of your hips as he comes down from his own high, his head on your shoulder.

"i'm sorry for barging in here and acting an ass," you say softly and he chuckles, his head still down.

"i'm sorry for calling you childish, irrisponsible, selfsih-"

"alright, i get it you're sorry!" you interrupt and he laughs a little harder. he stands up, tucks his dick away, and helps you put your pants back on before giving you a bottle of water and watching you leave.

later that day, during his meeting with yaga, at which he wanted to request a partner switch, he decided on sticking with you for just a little longer.

#jjk nanami #nanami kento #nanami kento fluff #nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #jjk smut #nanami kento smut #nanami smut #nanami x black reader #nanami x black!reader #jujutsu nanami #nanami x y/n #nanami x you #nanami x reader smut

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beforeimdeceased · 6 months

Note

hey bae! if you’re still taking requests could i please have something fluffy with mean! ellie and sensitive/soft! reader. it can be whatever u want, loving the pink theme btw 🎀⭐️!

CRYBABY! - (E.W)

pairing: mean/cruel ellie x sensitive/emotional reader.

synopsis: you’ve had a seriously bad day, and now you’re stuck with the shittiest person you’ve ever met while you wait for your friends to get home.

a/n: thank u for acknowledging the theme! it took so long to put together 😭. also i really hope this fulfills your request. would you guys want a part 2 w/ smut this time?

“crybaby, crybaby. we need to cry. and if we do, i know that would be alright.” — edit

masterlist.

ellie fucking williams was an exceptional singer, guitarist, and had incredible stage presence. but more importantly: she was an asshole. a complete fucking dick, and not just the usual “too good for everyone” cocky. she was crude. she was vulgar and she knew exactly how to push people, you specifically. sometimes you thought that she walked around asking for a fight to prove herself to people. now, you think it’s so she can finally feel something. even if it’s a mind spinning jab at her face.

you did your best to stay away from her, despite you sharing friends; jesse and dina. you knew exactly how she was and you knew you couldn’t handle it. no matter how many times you tried to let her little remarks brush past you, you always found yourself wanting to go lower. and each time you were around her it got harder to bite your tongue.

today was a bad day. a shit day. one of your worst. you found fraudulent activity on your bank card, got hit with a frustratingly large and urgent bill, and your washing machine broke. all in the span of an hour. the customers at your job had been extra rude and to make matters worse, your manager yelled at you for a mistake you didn’t even make.

all you wanted to do was go over to dina & jesse’s and eat brownies while they treated you like the child they’d yet to have. dina rubbing your back and reassuring you that everything will be okay while jesse threatens to beat all your enemies bloody. you use the spare key you have to their apartment to messily trudge in, kicking your shoes off at the door and smiling as you open the fridge to find dina’s special 1,000 hour brownies.

“i keep telling her she should put weed in those.” echoes behind you, causing you to pause mid bite. there she is, leaning against the counter. eyes smudged with her signature stage eyeliner, sweat glistening on her skin, a tank top and her stage cargos sagging on her waist. gargling down a plastic water bottle that had definitely seen better days.

“where are dina and jesse?” you furrow your brows closing the fridge. you grab a napkin to place the brownie on, and move further back near the door away from her. just in case.

“they went to go grab some groceries, but they told me to stay here and wait for you.” she answers, finishing the bottle off.

fuck. how long were they going to be gone? you couldn’t imagine spending more than 2 minutes alone with this loose lipped devil. her eyes narrow as she looks you up and down before smiling. here she goes.

“bad day? cause it looks like it.”

“well it definitely isn’t going to get better with you around me.” you snap back.

“ouch. i’m hurt.” she laughs. deviously. a hand over her chest as she pushes off the counter to chuck the empty bottle into the trash can.

you move over to the living room, sitting yourself on the couch. maybe if you ignore her she’ll get bored and leave you alone? maybe she’ll get so bored she’ll actually leave. god, please get the fuck out of here.

she follows you though, sitting way too close for comfort and turning on the tv. you pull your phone out, immediately opening tumblr and mindlessly scrolling. hoping that dina and jesse will be home soon.

“d tells me you stopped showing up to gigs because of me. is that true?” she breaks the silence between you two. you shrug her off. “you’re not the easiest person to be around, williams.” you state.

“so what’s wrong with me? i’d love to hear it straight from the horses mouth.” she scoffs, scooting closer. when you attempt to ignore her she pulls your phone out of your hand. staring into your eyes with her very own. piercing through your soul for a response. “is it because i called you an idiot?”

“among other things, but it doesn’t surprise me that that’s all you remember.” you reach for your phone but she pulls it back. this causes you to pinch her, and she smacks your hand away still holding your phone back. “remind me then.”

you feel her taunting tone. her want— need to push at you. to push your buttons and boundaries until you break. it’s like a game to her, and you certainly weren’t in the mood for it today.

“can you give me my phone so i can find out when dina and jesse are coming home?” you sigh. her behavior reminded you of a customer you’d had earlier who’d treated you like garbage because you weren’t smiling. you felt tears welling up but pushed them down. you never cried in front of ellie. because of her, maybe, but never to her face. you’d never live it down.

“can you answer my question? so i can apologize or whatever. d is really on my ass about it.”

you scoff. “ofcourse you aren’t genuinely sorry. you probably don’t even remember all the fucked up shit you say and do to people. half of the time you ignore me and the other half you treat me like i’m a burden. do you remember when you guys had your first real show? i told the security i knew you and you pretended like i was a stranger.”

“jesse was sooo pissed you didn’t show up.” she laughs. “did he yell at you?”

“yeah. thought i was lying because you told him i was. called me a shit friend and a liar until i showed him proof. why am i the only one you treat like this?”

“you’re definitely not the—“ you reach for your phone again, but she’s quicker than you. pushing you away and laughing at your lockscreen, which was a picture you’d taken of yourself. one you felt incredibly confident in. all of that confidence was withering away slowly and you could guess it’d only been 10 minutes. “only one.”

“that’s so much worse. seriously, i don’t have time for this today. i’ll just go home.” you sniffle and fail to hide it. the tears were in the back of your throat and you felt like her personal rag doll all over again. what you’d finally gotten away from the last week was haunting you all over again. her taunting, her rudeness. she knew what she was doing and she didn’t even care.

“are you gonna cry? am i making you cry?”

you gulp, biting your lip to fight the shakiness in your voice. “just give it back.” is all you can muster up. her arm stretches up and as you reach for it she tucks it in her back pocket and sits on it.

you feel the tears begin to spill out of your eyes and you quickly turn around and lean into the couches arm. hands over your face as you pathetically attempt to calm yourself. you feel a hand on your shoulder and you push it away before realizing it’s ellie handing you back your phone.

it takes you a couple blinks, convinced the tears have obstructed your vision. the very same ellie who’d tripped you in front of a crowd of people last month, was being nice? her face has softened, genuine concern replacing the taunting gaze she previously had. she places a hand on your back and shushes you.

“i’m sorry. i’ve never made you cry before, i’m sorry.” she speaks softly. she almost seems…confused? is this what it takes to get her to realize that what she does actually fucking hurts you? for you to break down in front of her? for her to get a peek at the silent nights you’d spent sobbing over another one of her “jokes”? all this time?

you wipe your eyes and begin to laugh, which startles her and causes her to lean back. “you’re such an ass, ellie. god, you’re such a fucking dick.” you shake your head and breathe. she doesn’t respond, just stares at you with concern. brows furrowed as she concentrates on your body language. the way you’re leaning closer towards her.

“today was such a bad day.” you cry out in frustration, dipping your head into her lap. you just lay there, sobbing. she doesn’t move you, but instead rubs your back. shushing you. whispering that it’ll be okay, and you’d never admit it because it was coming from her, but you really needed it in that moment.

she pulled you in closer to her, turning you onto your side so she can rub her thumb across your cheek. wiping some of your tears away. you begin to cry even harder, but she doesn’t push you away. even when her pants are soaked and snotty. she lets you lay there, and cry into her.

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gender-trash · 3 months

Text

(i am seriously late in posting about this due to The Problems BUT whatever! its here now!!)

somewhere around late november 2022, i asked my dad "hey are there any out of print technical books you'd like a reprint of for christmas?"

he linked me to a dubious black-and-white pdf of Foundations of Mechanical Accuracy. now, i wound up checking out a copy through link+, and the original edition is a really nicely put together book! the chapters are themed around various types of measurements (length, angle, etc), and they all have these cute little diagrams which the endpapers reuse in a lil repeating pattern... the image captions are done in this really lovely dark red that did not scan for SHIT... tons and tons of diagrams and illustrations and images (both color and b&w)... just, all around, a fucking nice book!! (see also @morrak's post about it here.)

and that made me feel kind of bad about the crappiness of the pdf, which is where the Problems began. i used my phone to take pictures of all the photos and color diagrams in the original and went about replacing them in the pdf, using what turned out to be the world's worst pdf editing software (i also got through replacing all the image captions in chapter 1 of 5 before my dad convinced me to give up). i did NOT finish the pdf editing before christmas 2022 (i was going somewhat off the deep end, because both my housemates were away visiting family and i had zero external structure in my life so it was just me and my cat and this stupid FUCKING pdf wrecking my sleep schedule together); i poked away at it for most of the rest of my time off and then got so goddamn sick of it i put the project away for months. "it'll be a birthday gift instead", i said optimistically (my dad's birthday is in april! it should have been enough time!)

gentle readers, i did not finish the pdf editing by april. mostly because it was such a miserable slog that i put it off until the last possible moment and then tried to make up for it with another death march.

hating both myself and the project again, i decided i was Not going to let myself typeset Anything Else before it was done, and then took a break to bind my immortal (using the renegade publishing typeset! i didn't do any typesetting!!). SURELY, i said, i can finish this in time for christmas 2023.

i'm sure you know where this is going.

in my defense i DID finish the pdf editing by christmas, despite first doing every other possible procrastination project (including a second edition of the little second century warlord book), because by this point my dad had managed to convince me to lower my standards. on the evening of the 22nd i kicked off the print job and said to myself "this will finish printing overnight and then tomorrow i can work on sewing the textblock!"

late on the 23rd, after lots of babysitting and using at least one cartridge of every color ink in my printer, the print job was finally done. (my sweet and lovely cat wants SO BADLY to hunt and stalk the printer while it is printing -- more specifically, the printed pages, i think because they tend to make noise and move and then STOP moving. for this reason, the printer is kept in the craft room, because the cat can be shut out of the craft room and thus prevented from chewing on the pages when i have an all-day book printing job going. unfortunately the craft room was also being pressed into service as a guest room at the time so 80% of the floor space was consumed by an air mattress which i had to repeatedly trip over in order to reach the printer and replace the ink cartridges.)

then i went to my parents' house on the 24th and 25th and apologized to my dad (again) for not having the book finished. but this worked out well because we finished putting together my awesome new book clamp:

(the feet still aren't done being painted so they're just dry-fit on for now but you can still clamp books in it and that's what matters!!)

i came home, sewed the textblock (french link stitch over four linen tapes, with sewn endbands made of variegated embroidery floss over linen cord, and kozo paper glued over the spine)

... and promptly realized i SHOULD HAVE PUT IN MORE OF A GUTTER because some of the text was getting reeeeeeal close to the spine. "it's fine!" i said. "i just have to make sure it lays flat!! what better time than to try out K118 binding, a technique i have literally never done before and which people on the bookbinding discord notoriously have a hard time pulling off first try! i even have tyvek tape for it!"

so it turns out that tyvek tape isn't actually tyvek with glue on it, it's tape FOR attaching pieces of tyvek TO EACH OTHER, which maybe i could have guessed if i'd done even the slightest amount of research or planning. at this point i think it was the 27th and i was still angling to get this thing done by new year's, so no time to order Actual Tyvek.

fortunately, i had ALSO received An Package in the mail with yarn for a totally unrelated knitting project... shipped in a tyvek envelope.

i peeled all the shipping labels and stickers off my tyvek envelope, cut that shit up, and glued it on there.

and THEN it was time for gluing on covers, which i thought was going to be easy because i had actually thought ahead and ordered materials (specifically acid-free museum board), except when i cracked open the box of museum board i decided i Didn't Like It because the surface was too soft and easily dented, so i glued onto it the too-thin board material i'd previously been using (so that the cardboard goes on the outside of the book). this worked super well (the cardboard stuff has a tendency to curl up from the glue moisture, but the museum board doesn't!) and i'll probably use it on other stuff in the future.

i thought the blue bookcloth i used was kind of boring but i showed my dad the available cloth options and he really liked it, so... what do you know? i cut the piece i used on the back cover very slightly too short but it wound up being covered by the leather, so you can barely tell.

and the leather... a scrap just baaaaarely big enough from my bag of leather scraps from discount fabrics... and this the first time i'd ever attempted to put leather on a book... AND YET the only complaint i have is that i didn't manage to put an even amount on the front and back. it's reasonably square and straight!! amazing!!

i am super super happy with how this project came out (especially given the number of problems i encountered) and oh my god check out how much the spine bends

AND, AS A NEW YEAR'S PRESENT, I FINALLY MANAGED TO GIVE IT TO MY DAD

#and promptly got sick after i got home from my parents' house.#which is part of why this post was so long delayed #the trashcan speaks #devil venerable also wants to exploit the memoir class for evil purposes #bookbinding

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feelbokkie · 8 months

Text

Things SKZ does when you're pregnant

☀️Feelbokkie M.list☀️

genre: fluff

pov: 2nd person

description: just cute things skz would do while you are pregnant

pairing: bf!skz x reader with a uterus

warnings: swearing

word count: 1,021 (unedited)

방 찬 (Bang Chan)

Plays Music for Your Bump

he bought one of those headphone sets that you can use to put on baby bumps the second he found out they existed

it's basically a Channie's room (rip Channie's room)

he's prescreening all the songs beforehand though

got to make sure they're baby appropriate

plays a few skz songs

red lights and drive are hard passes

plays a wide variety of music

he's trying to create a musical genius at this point

with his genes, it's very much possible that this might happen

takes the baby's suggestions every seriously

"The baby kicked," "They must really love this song," "Or they hate it," "...Hey, if you like the song, kick. If you hate the song, stay still!" "Chan, don't confuse the child." "Hey, maybe they're a dancer like their uncles."

이 민 호 (Lee Min-Ho)

Making All of the Food You're Craving

yes, even the bat shit insane ones like pickles and peanut butter

he knows that it's 50% his fault that you're hungry and want specific things and that you're doing 100% of the work so the least he could do was make you what you and the parasite baby want to eat

the first time he did it, you were talking to yourself about something you were craving, not thinking he was paying attention

you were debating if you should order it or go out and buy some and take it home

he immediately went into the kitchen and made it without a second thought once he realized that you were probably craving it because of the baby

he came back some time later and just placed the food in your lap

you legit cried

blame the hormones

one time you asked him directly make you something and he jokingly said no

you cried again and he felt so bad that he made it and got your favorite dessert

서 창 빈 (Seo Chang-Bin)

Lifts Your Bump

definitely feels guilty and responsible for you being in this situation

i mean he partly is to blame but you were there too

so he will constantly just come up behind you and lift up your bump to get your back a break

and he'll stay there for a while

and if you two go to the beach for whatever reason, the first thing he's doing is digging a bump shaped hole so you can lay on your stomach comfortably

buys that bump comfort tape and helps you tape your stomach to give you some relief throughout the day while he's out working

did research to make sure he was doing it safely of course, he doesn't want to hurt you or the baby

helps you do some exercises and stretches to ease your pain too

황 현 진 (Hwang Hyun-Jin)

Paints You and Your Bump

the second he found out that you were pregnant, he got several ideas of things to paint on your stomach

started earlier than he probably should have

but when you started getting bigger and more self-conscious, he decided to paint a portrait of you and your bump

and he makes you look like some sort of angel or divine being

you almost don't believe that he painted you

hangs it where he knows you'll see it often

greatly boosts your confidence

will also play on it constantly

"how are my muses doing today?"

also paints a mural in the baby's room in his free time because he can

한 지 성 (Han Ji-Sung)

Tells Your Bump Stories

more specifically, he's giving the baby a detailed play-by-play of whatever show he's currently watching

you bought one of those mics you can attach to your stomach so you could talk to the baby and it is almost always in his hands

"...and their dad is kind of an asshole--you don't have to worry about that, your dad is cool as fuck" "Jisung, language," "if we normalize swearing when they're young, we won't have to worry about them having the mouth of a sailor like Felix. I read it in a book" "...I don't think they mean while the baby is still in the womb,"

reads them them manga too

if he's watching tv and you're sitting next to him, he's pulling out the mic and narrating everything that's on the screen

will sing every once in a while, have to prepare the baby for the rest of their life now so they're not shocked once they're born

이 용 복 (Lee Felix Yong-Bok)

Massages and Foot Rubs

he massages you and gives you foot rubs anyway, especially if you ask for them

but when you told him you were pregnant, one of the first things he did was research how to safely massage you

secretly practiced on the boys so he wouldn't hurt you or the baby until he was confident enough to massage you

still was nervous to actually massage you

rubs your feet more often than the rest of you because it's safer

once you're towards the end of your pregnancy and increasingly uncomfortable from all the added weight you're carrying, he gets over his fears and massages you to give you some relief

Will cuddle you after too while resting his head on your bump

김 승 민 (Kim Seung-Min)

Talking and Singing to Your Bump

this man has been talking to his baby the second he learned that their ears are fully developed

and he's talking to them like a normal person, not baby talk

full conversations too

he'll come home for a long day of work and come tell both of you about his day

often comes and lays his head on your bump and sings to it

just little songs mostly

also sang songs in his JYP voice because why not

whenever you express discomfort, he is lecturing the poor unborn child

"Seungmin, they're not even born yet." "Y/n, please, I am having a private conversation." "Sorry, my bad."

양 정 인 (Yang Jeong-In)

Weekly Progress Shots with Your Bump

mostly, he's having fun taking pictures of how much you're growing each month

every week without fail he is pulling out the camera and harassing you to take the picture

will style you and get props so you can have fun with it

one of the more common props is whatever food item the baby is the same size as

makes a video with all of the pictures and finishes it with the last photo of you holding the baby where the bump was

he's already planning the baby's month photoshoots

—

Buy me a coffee?

—

Permanent Taglist

Red means that it wouldn't let me tag you (either at all or properly)

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the-kr8tor · 2 months

Note

Reporting for duty Captain!

A tasm Peter Parker request for a shy reader who likes Peter but backs out when she wants to talk to him or- OR, (more like and) a reader with w rizz who's known Peter since forever and ever. Who has the same interest in photography as he does?? Works in a photo store??

Cook chef!

*gasp* a peter parker request?! Got you, my love 🫡 happy to oblige.

Pairing: TASM! Peter Parker x fem! Reader/ TASM! Spider-Man x fem! Reader

Tags: use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader, CW food mentions, Love struck Peter, Fluff.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

Peter doesn't need to ask around campus for you, he already knows where you are, a perk of knowing you since grade school. He evens his breathing when he finally reaches the worn out doors.

The bells jingle as he enters the old store, yellowed wallpaper greeting him and drab shelves lined with rolls of films, the vintage cameras make up for the boringness of the gray shelves. Ancient posters of movies lined the walls, a time capsule of the early eighties. It's silent inside, no other customer than him.

His sneakers squeak on the linoleum as he walks towards the cashier, expecting to see your smile, your hands occupied with whatever book you're currently (hating) reading. He finds it empty.

Peter's spidey senses don't tingle so he can relax knowing that you're in the back of the store. He jumps over the counter effortlessly thanks to his abilities. Knocking on the door, he hears the muffled sound of your speaker.

“Y/N?”

“In here, Pete—! Wait!!” With a creak, Peter opens the door without skipping a beat. The light from the store filters through the dark room, white covering and filtering out all the red. “No! Close it quick!”

“Oh shit!” He shuts it quickly behind him, too fast and harder than he thought, the wood almost cracks at the sheer force. Wincing, you both mirror each other's expression.

“Pete…” you sigh, closing the distance to check the door, you can't afford to lose a chunk of your paycheck for repairs. But you don't blame him, it's hard to stay mad at Peter especially when he's looking so apologetic at you, almost like a kicked puppy. “You got too excited to see me huh?”

He shuts his eyes with a smile, head falling down, chin atop his chest. He looks exasperated but he did it to hide the blush on his cheeks, hoping that if you manage to glimpse it you'd think it's from the red light.

This won't do, you thought. You missed him too much today just for him to hide his face from you. To remedy the feeling, you grasp his cheek, thumb gently placed right under his eye.

“There you are webhead,” your voice is saccharine, the ruby light bouncing off your face, illuminating your features perfectly. Peter thought he'd melt right on the spot. “Missed me?” In truth, you're the one who misses him most.

He wants to say yes without a second thought but knowing you, you're already aware of his answer. Even though you refuse to acknowledge it. Under all the teasing exterior there's shyness underneath it all, with just one flirty comment thrown your way you'd probably collapse.

Peter finally meets your smiling eyes and for a moment you're the only thing that matters.

With classes and spiderman responsibilities, hanging out with you has been scarce, he needed a fix right away, that's why he came sprinting towards the store immediately after a three hour class and after swinging across town to your favorite deli with his wind swept hair and shirt that definitely needs ironing.

“Not really.” A lie, an awful lie on his part.

“Aww,” you dramatically clutch at your chest, hand leaving his skin to his dismay. “Hear that? You just broke my heart, Parker.”

“D’you even have one?”

“Hey!” You playfully punch his shoulder. “You're the one who ruined my pictures.”

His eyes flick towards the clothesline filled with pictures that just screams ‘you.’ “I can see from here that they're not ruined.”

You click your tongue, hands on your hips, you walk back towards the table. “What are you doing here then, webhead?” Lowering the volume of your speaker, you decide to shut it off when his voice is a much better alternative.

“I feel like I should be offended by that.” Peter stands beside you, hip to hip, arm brushing along yours.

Placing his hand on the small of your back casually, he loops his thumb around your belt loop, pressing softly on your skin. He's done this a hundred times during your friendship but it never fails to wake up the butterflies in your stomach.

“I've called you that numerous times.” Holding the tongs, you carefully place the developed photo in the chemical mixture in the basin, eyes watching the picture pop up slowly.

“Stop being mean, I've come bearing gifts from the deli you like.” His voice is quiet, soft just for you.

“The one that's on the upper west side? Peter, that's really far away.”

“I don't mind, that's what web swinging is for right?”

You scrunch up your nose, Peter has the best seat in the house while he admires your expression.

“And here I thought it was for fighting crime.” You chuckle, pushing the paper further down in the basin. His deep chuckle stops abruptly at the sight in front of him.

Peter's own smiling face greets him and your charisma cracks.

“Oh” you manage to let out with your dry mouth.

You can hear him shudder a breath next to you. The picture is framed perfectly, his face centered in the middle amongst the crowd, zoomed in more like. You clearly avoided having other people in the frame, your main subject was him and him alone.

“...Good picture.” He slaps himself mentally.

“Yep, one of my best, I think.” You say quietly, too quietly. Clearing your throat, you avoid his eyes, “why don't you ready the food? Outside, please?”

Peter shakes himself awake. His skin feels like lava, there's a bead of sweat rolling down his temple. Hands clammy, he nods wordlessly. He awkwardly pats your back before leaving your side.

Walking towards the exit, your back turned towards him, shoulders slouched and tensed. He turns towards you before exiting, “looks like you missed me more, sweetheart.” He's called you that millions of times, all filled with more affection than the last but this one, oh this one he added with so much love that it could stop your heart.

And you think it has.

Peter hears you squeak, a sound he hasn't heard you make since high school when he asked you to dance during the winter formal.

You whirl around, catching sight of his Parker smile, charm oozing out of him that's already gone before you could admire him in the crimson light.

He leaves, shutting the door quickly. Laying his sweaty forehead on the door, he tightly closes his eyes again, feeling like a lightning just struck him and adrenaline coursing through his veins, needing to swing off the extra energy.

Blowing hot air, he takes his clammy hands off the doorknob to take out the food he bought, grinning through it like a mad man.

Meanwhile, you clutch the table with a grip, heart threatening to jump out of your chest, heat in your cheeks as the photo of Peter smiles at you.

Laughing to yourself, you take out his picture to clip it on the clothesline next to the other pictures. You have no idea what to say to him once you leave the room, or do you just stay in the dark room forever? Either way, you're absolutely fucked.

#request done #peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker x you #peter parker x fem!reader #tasm peter parker #tasm peter parker x reader #tasm imagine #tasm fanfic #tasm x reader #tasm!peter x reader #peter parker fluff #spiderman x reader #spiderman x fem! reader #cw food mention #fanfic #the kr8tor's creations

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ratcash-wasgud · 4 months

Text

Hii! Okay, I haven't wrote anything since I was like 12, but I had to try again since I'm going insane because of this show. I have like...a very specific story in mind, so sorry if not everyone will be able to identify w the reader lmao. I'm gonna use she/her for both Mizu and the reader. Anyways, enjoy.

Like swimming in the sunset...

It was cold, and it was all Mizu could register at the moment. The last thing she remembered was falling into the icy river with Fowler, but after that...not much. She was swinging between un-and-consciousness for a while, and through all those moments, her teeth were clenched, and her face scrunched up into a frown.

The only thing flooding through her mind was...a period from her childhood. She was around 12-14 years old back then, still living with Swordfather, being sore everyday from training, learning how to hide her chest, the taste of roasted fish and...

Knock knock knock...

Swordfather only nudged towards the door in silence, and that was enough for Mizu to get up and open it. She expected another mountain like swordsman, here to ask for a sword made by Eiji's hands, but no. It was you... a little girl, soaked, tired, and probably about to freeze, in dirty clothes and covered in bruises.

"Grandpa Eiji...I'm looking for Grandpa Eiji." The little girl croaked out, her voice hoarse and quiet. Mizu just looked at the girl with wide eyes for a moment or two before stumbling away from the door, looking at Eiji with a slight panic and confusion in her eyes. Eiji just whispered your name which gave you a permisiion to run to him. You fell at his feet, sobbing.

Mizu was stunned. She just quietly closed the door behind you, keeping the roaring winter out.

"Grandpa Eiji...I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I...I cannot go home." You sobbed, bowing your head to the ground. In response Swordfather hummed. He reached out to place his palm at the top of your head. "Please...I know it's so much to ask, but please...let me stay here."

"Calm down, Child." He said, his tone quiet, almost gentle, but he didn't say anything else for the following seconds, maybe even minutes. He then took his cane, and lightly tapped his teacup which was lying near. It seemed like you quickly understood, as you got up and started making tea withouth a word.

Mizu just stood there, near the door, taking in what just happened...Did Swordfather just get a new apprentice? Was she old news now? Will he kick her out? What will she do if he--

Her train of thought were cut off by Eiji ligtly tapping her head with his cane which earned a little "ouch" from her. "Why are you standing around? We will need wood to feed the fire." He says casually, and starts walking to the door. Mizu's eyes lit up a little, and she hurried after him to collect firewood.

Later that night, when after the tea was gone and the moon was shining ever so brightly, Mizu stared at your back as the two children sat on the porch, accompanied by the white scenery and the peaceful night.

"You are," Suddenly you spoke up, making Mizu almost flinch. "Grandpa Eiji's apprentice?" You ask quietly.

Mizu nods quietly and lowers her gaze, and in response, you send a small smile her way. You murmur your name then look at her expectingly.

"...Mizu." She says, still keeping her gaze down, but she ocassionally glances up at you, as if to check when you're attacking.

Then a silence falls onto the two children, both looking away, not sure how to interact with the other.

"Let's...try and get along." You finally say, offering another small smile, though, this time, it somehow reaches your eyes too.

Mizu huffs a little. "Yeah...like that's how it works." She then looks straight at you, her gaze sharp.

Your eyes widen, and you thin your lips. "I...I said try." You murmur and end it with a quiet chuckle, while looking into her eyes. "I don't want Granda Eiji to go through hardship because we argue." You says, tilting your head a little.

Mizu huffs again, turning her head away once more, but then, after another deafening silence... "Alright. I'll try." She says, glancing back at you, and she's met a with a smile. A sweet one at that. One that she herself never produced. She can't help but relax her tense shoulders, and let her jaw also loosen.

"Thank you." You says, and glance at the sky before you get going. She wants to say somethig too, but eventually she gets quiet as she sees you head inside.

The next couple days were spent with only a few words exchanged between the two children. You did the housework, like cleaning, making tea and preparing a meal, while Mizu helped Eiji with his work, getting firewood, and blending metals. Glances although were exchanged. Whenever Mizu looked your way, and you caught her, you simply offered a smile before you went along with what you were doing. You did that everytime, even if you never got one back.

One night, you stayed up later than usual, and caught Mizu training outside, alone. You kept quiet, and just watched in silence as she fell multiple times, but got back up again and again, and hit the bamboo poles harder each time. After she managed to slice every pole in half, and she stood there, panting, you clapped quietly. Mizu's head jerked back to see you, wearing that same sweet smile, and gently clapping.

"Why are you here?" She asked, looking away. "Here to mock me?" She asks, looking at the dirt on her shoes with an angry frown.

You're eyes widened in confusion then you shook your head. "That was really cool." You say softly. "You seem strong." You say, shifting your weight from one feet to another.

"I'm not strong enough." Mizu spats, and starts setting up new poles. You walked closer too, picked up some poles and helped her set them up. Mizu looked at you, squinting her eyes in confusion, but you just focused on the task ahead. "Why are you like this?" Mizu asks, snatching the pole from your hand. "You don't have to pretend. You don't have to play nice." She says, throwing the pole at you. "You see what I am! So go on, say what's on your mind instead of acting like you're not disgusted by a monster like me!" She shouts, a little louder than she intended.

Mizu felt frustrated, angry even. Back then, she herself didn't even know why. She expected you to to spit in her face, call her a dog then go on your day. That's all she knew, but she at least understood that...so this confused her. And her confusion lead her to anger. To try and defend herself against something that isn't attacking.

"I..." Your eyes widened once again, in shock and you took a step back. "I..don't think you're a monster." You say, gathering all your courage and balling your hands into fists at your sides. "I never once considered that! So don't go and make assumptions about me, like I never did about you!" You stomp your foot a little. "You're different, I can see that, yes...but you never onced attacked me, nor gave me a reason to fear you! You are just shut off! You're not a monster, you act more like a grumpy old woman!" You yell back, huffing, and storming away, like a child your age would.

That leaves Mizu...stunned. She stands there, wide eyes and her lips parted in surprise. She expected a lot of things but...that. You looked...hurt? Maybe that's the way to describe it, maybe frustrated, maybe even mad. She doesn't really know what to do with that, but deep inside, she feels a little...relieved. After you're out of her sight, she can't help but let out a small chuckle.

The next day, as you were cleaning a fish that you were planning to prepare for dinner, you heard quiet footsteps from behind you. You decided to pay no mind to it, as you were still a little frustrated from last night, and kept pulling off the scales from the fish with a knife, just a little more aggressively. Then, out of nowhere, a hand reached over your shoulder, placing a small piece of candy next to your hand. You looked at the candy as you wiped your hand in your clothes, then finally picked it up, and turned around to face Mizu.

She had her gaze lowered and her she was chewing on the inside of her cheek. You couldn't help but crack a small smile. Then you broke off half the candy, took his hand and placed it in her palm. Mizu's gaze perked up, and her blue eyes met yours as you popped your half of the candy in your mouth.

Mizu felt her chest thighten and it was like her blood started to flow faster through her veins. She clutched the piece of candy in her hand and agressively shoved it in her mouth. That drew a chuckle from you...a sound that tickled Mizu's ear. It confused her so much, but she decided not to care. She sat down next to you and watched you as you prepared the fish.

The days were much more pleasent after that. Mizu talked to you everyday, even if it was short, and only about how she can help, she tried. She even enjoyed the silence between you and her, when you two just stared into nothing together. It was nice not being alone. You even watched her train every night, and softly clapped everytime after she finished a move you'd call "cool". It made her feel warm. Not in a way that she'd feel next to a fireplace, but...in a way that it'd feel to swim in the sunset.

You never once spoke about why you suddenly appeared, but she never pried in exchange for you not asking about her past. And somehow, you haven't discovered that she is a woman yet. It was strange, growing so close to someone who she didn't know too much about, and someone who didn't know much about her but she felt like she knew enough. She knew how you prepared a fish, knew how you giggled when she got tapped on the head by Eiji, and the sound you'd make when it happened to you too. She knew the face you'd make when a blug landed on your face, and the one you'd make when you saw the flowers freshly blooming.

Mizu haven't even noticed when a couple years flew by, and you two started to grow up together. But, before either of you could reach adulthood...

Knock knock knock...

Mizu was helping Eiji with hammering a blade while you sat in the corner and tried to wash a stain out of one of Eiji's clothes. Withouth a word, you stood up to get the door, and you were greeted with...a tall man with a sword at his hip. A usual looking customer at this place, but when you uttered "...father?" Mizu's blood ran cold. The next thing she heard was a scream as he took your arm with force, and lifted you by it.

"So this is where you were hiding?" The man sneers, and Mizu can see Eiji's eyebrows scrunch up. She looks panicked, and reaches for a sword and starts to run towards the man, but is stopped imidately with a kick. She flies back, clutching her side. The man, as if paying no mind to her, turned his face back to you.

You were shaking with tears in your eyes. "Father...please..." But the man didn't care. And with that, the door shut closed...and you were gone. Mizu whispered your name in pain, before yelling it out. She felt...hopeless. You came suddenly, and you disappeared just as suddenly. She hated that. She finally found someone who would accept her, and a child her age too...someone with such a sweet smile...But she was too week to save you. Your scream echoed in her ears, and tears gathered to her eyes.

After so much time, Mizu cried again, for the first time in ages. Eiji just sat there, clutching his cane so hard his fingertips turned cold...but he stayed quiet, and just looked ahead. That night Eiji lit a icense stick and whispered your name, as if you were dead already. Mizu hated the feeling that took over her. It was just like when she saw the fire those years ago...Grief.

Mizu trained harder everynight, swearing that nothing like this would every happen again...when she turns out to be too weak. She trained until her palms bled, and until she couldn't stand anymore.

But why, were those moments flashing in her head again? Her eyes slowly fluttered open as your scream echoed in her head once again and she took in what's happening to her. She saw Ringo's back, as she was getting dragged on a wooden plank, with Taigen on her left. She saw Swodfather's house, and she heard his voice...and for a brief moment, he heard your voice too before she fell back into unconsciousness.

#blue eye samurai x reader #x reader #blue eye samurai #mizu blue eye samurai #mizu x reader #bes x reader #bes mizu #fanfic #fanfiction #fem reader #mizu fanfic #angst #flashback #netflix blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai x you

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partycatty · 2 months

Note

you write for mk11 gramps johnny? have serious brain rot for him

if so could you write a fic of him dicking us down for being a brat? u can make up a plot or not i just need it and need him. love ur writing either way!!

- 💙

alright, im using this ask but i have a very specific image for this rn. this is gonna be a meaty post so hear me out

older!johnny cage > waste ur time

this is based off of the song WasteUrTime by Kevin Walkman with some lyrics (in pink) sprinkled in. you and johnny have a clear age gap, trying to avoid giving into desires, but 3am rolls around and you consider the idea of having a late night visitor.

warnings: smutty, age gap, ur both horny demons, virgin reader, i dont know how military ranks work, affair, sonya never gets Rocked

notes: this is going to be a little more artsy that what i usually do, so apologies if the format change is not ideal. this is more of an actual fic than bullet points. also the lyrics are out of order and not all included, so you don't need the song to enjoy this!

word count: 2.6k

[ masterlist ]

give me a glass of your innocence.

training was hard, your skin glistening with sweat and your face flushed from overexertion. the task was relatively simple; to climb up a deeply sloped wooden platform using nothing but your grip and momentum. your comrades were cheering you on, including briggs, commander cage, her mother, and her father. straining yourself to grip the ledge of the platform, you finally hoist yourself up and stand upright, not before doubling over to pant.

the others applaud and surround you with cheers. a firm hand finds its place square on your back, rubbing in circles.

"atta girl," the voice leans into your ear with an audible grin. "knew you had it in you."

your head turns to thank the disconnected voice, but out of your fuzzy mind, the realization pulls through that none other than your superior, johnny cage was the one congratulating you so intimately. his praise makes your cheeks flush even darker and your gaze averts, too afraid of such direct appreciation which johnny notes. you weren't used to compliments.

this is my creation, here's your invitation.

you knew something intense was brewing with each lingering stare or gentle squeeze to your shoulder. how intense exactly, you couldn't pick out. with minimal experience with others lusting for you, it didn't register in your head at first just how hungrily he gazed at you. not that you were complaining necessarily, he was part-time action star, part-time military leader. he was built, charismatic, and a family man. it felt impossible to not feel weak in the knees around him.

johnny knew he had an effect on you, as he did most others. despite watering down his hollywood charisma, he couldn't bring himself to deny how sexy he was at his older age. something about a buff salt and pepper man telling you what to do had you following commands like a dog, doing anything it takes to have him praise you more.

even still, you couldn't do anything about it. johnny was a married man. his family was your coworkers, hell, it was their job to command you! the guilty thoughts would creep up on you no matter how badly you wanted to avoid them. couldn't you have chosen a more... single man?

you seem so damn nervous.

"how can i be of service?" johnny asks, leaning his front half forward ever so slightly to show you he was interested in every word that dripped from your lips. your vision was too blurred from anxiety to properly articulate what you needed from him, so you nervously swirled your drink. damn the special forces and their free alcohol parties.

"how do you do it?" you ask with a stammer. "earthrealm, netherrealm, tarkatans, ninjas, thunder gods. it all feels so unreal. how do you stay so calm?"

"mm," he hums, lowering his own glass after a brief sip. "well, you get used to it. turns out i was born to a mediterranean war cult's gene pool. watched my daughter kick an elder god's ass while i got maggots down my throat. went face-to-face with younger me. there are just some things that are too damn ridiculous to ever fully understand, so i accept it for what it is. when you're my age, fighting for all of these otherworldly things, most of the little things feel like a walk in the park."

"don't get me wrong, sir, i'll fight for earthrealm, but this is all so... dizzying."

johnny visibly tenses up at 'sir.' "tell you what," he grabs his drink napkin and opens a sharpie with his teeth. "you ever wanna talk about it with someone that's seen everything, you come to me." he writes his personal phone number on the napkin and places it in your palm with a smile.

you fidget with the paper before pocketing it, worried you'd pick at it too much and rip it to shreds before you could save the digits. the most you could bring yourself to do was half-bow, half-nod before scurrying away to the bathroom to cool your hot face. johnny could only chuckle to himself with a shake of his head.

long walks of shame look so good on you.

a long time was spent staring at the new conversation on your phone. despite your inexperience, there was a simmering feeling that johnny didn't just give you his number to let you vent. he wanted to talk to you outside of work. the thought makes you sweat.

why would he want to talk to you? if he wanted conversation, he would reach out to his wife and kid. he had it all, and yet he still wanted to put everything on the line for you.

you're moving fast, and i'm into it.

"lieutenant. it's reader," you shoot a simple text out, lying to yourself when you justify texting him for the sake of him saving your number. it was late, too late to be texting your superior. another lie you told yourself: i'll just send the message now so he sees it in the morning! your shameful justifications are ripped from you when you receive a reply, almost immediately.

"couldn't it have waited until the morning?" he replies bluntly, and you're ready to type out a spew of apologies before a second text comes through. "i'm teasing. johnny, by the way. no need for titles."

"sorry." you try to remain professional with your response, fingers dancing wildly across your keyboard. your eyes flicker up to the clock in the top corner, realizing it's well into the night. "didn't expect a response so late. have a good night, lieutenant."

you're ready to throw your phone out of the nearest window out of sheer embarrassment, but you stop when you feel another buzz come through. your stomach flips.

"johnny. you usually stay up late?" he texts, drawing the conversation out much to your surprise. "it's 3:30 in the morning."

"my day's been so boring," you decide to lean into the more casual chat, hoping to find a softer side to your boss. you should feel disgusted, repulsed, put off. he was double your age and then some. but dear god, his attention on you was hypnotizing even if it was just words on a screen. "hoping to waste some time before tomorrow comes. lots of training."

johnny's reply takes a suspiciously long time to come through, his bubble appearing and disappearing. just before you thought you lost the conversation, a photo comes through. johnny's laying in bed, hair ruffled and shirtless. his eyes have a soft, pleading look to them and his lips are curled into a pretty smile. the tiniest glimpse of his chest tattoo pokes through the bottom of the image, and you had to make a conscious effort to swallow your drool and close your jaw. you almost don't notice the text attached.

"maybe i could waste your time?"

you choke on your saliva, glancing off to the corner of your room as if an invisible camera was perched there. this man held zero shame, that much was true. you suppose it's from his age. there's only so much time in one life, so he's seizing every moment. it terrified you, to the depths of your core.

"i don't follow," you text back, playing dumb. this was genuinely unbelievable to you, you needed to hear more from his perspective to make sure you weren't actually dreaming or reading too far into his offer.

"come on, girl," he teasingly responds. "don't play dumb. i may be old, but i'm still sharp." another photo slides into the chat, the same idea s his previous one but now fully displaying his torso. his broad chest with his name painted on it was now boldly on display. his hand laid flirtatiously on his abs, fingers spread out. at the very bottom, you could make out the beginning of a thick tent in his pajama pants. it was like every inch of this man was maximized. you'd seen his shirtless form in his old movies, but seeing it now... it was personal. that photo was for you. "i know you're still fucking with me. i see how you look at me." you bite your lip, wondering if maybe sonya was sharing the other side of the bed. your stomach churns.

"i mean..." you leave the text at that, rapidly typing and deleting. you're not quite sure what to say, how to carry this now heated conversation. you'd never... had to before. "if i may state the obvious, you're... older. and my boss. and married."

his replies stop for a good couple minutes. you wonder if maybe he was regretting his advance. you hoped not.

"is it something that you'd mind?" johnny asks, hesitation in his words as he breaks away from his flirty comments. his question makes you ponder. you were a virgin at your age, holding onto this trait longer than almost everyone at a similar age to you. work was your priority, never giving yourself enough time for a serious commitment. but here you were. johnny was throwing something onto the table that you never expected to happen. were you going to pass this up and stay a virgin forever? hell, no!

"sent you my location. let's try something new, lieutenant."

"johnny." he corrects you one final time before falling completely silent on his end. your stomach twists and churns wildly, realizing you have opened the flood gates to a hookup with your boss. you throw your pajamas off and replace them with a cuter, coordinating pair. you brush your teeth again and try to fix your hair into a neater updo, not impacted by the friction of your pillowcase. shoes and various discarded belongings are shoved under the bed and into the closet. you hadn't had male company, well, ever. you had to come off as somewhat decent for him.

jesus christ, your mind grows dizzy. you were going to lose your virginity, now, or in however long it takes for him to arrive at you apartment. you're not far from work, and even still the time it took for you to hear footsteps in the hallway must have been a century at the minimum. you were seriously going through with this because it was about damn time you enjoyed yourself and spiced shit up.

the heavy footsteps come to a halt, the shadow overtaking the faint hallway light glowing. a part of you wants to hide, maybe jump out of your fire exit. your nerves were blinding, and taking the steps to the entrance felt like an olympic sport. that is, until a new text appears.

"let me inside."

do you open the door? leaning against it, you can smell his musk just through the crack alone. damn his hypnotic... everything. if you open the door, his entire career, marriage, and life could be over. that is, if you spill. you wouldn't.

keeping shit a secret fits you like a glove.

you slowly open the door, hand frozen on the doorknob as you're met with your boss towering over you with a heavy look in his eyes. it's hard to avoid his own hesitation too, but his hard breathing betrays his morals. he looks ready to pounce at any given moment. johnny's mouth opens first, but you beat him to it.

"i'm a virgin," you blurt, mind too empty to feel embarrassed at the fact. you felt the need to tell him now, before he was on top of you and you laid there like a fool.

johnny's brows raise up ever so slightly. "what?"

the heat of the admittance catches up to you, and you twiddle with the hem of your shorts. you repeat yourself meekly, letting the predicament set in between the two of you.

"that's..." he trails off, glancing into your room. "um."

"i'm sorry-" your face heats up, your eyes pricking with tears at the awkward air. "i just... i didn't want you to be surprised, because i don't know what i'm doing."

something new stirs in johnny's core as he understands the weight of the situation. his fists clench and he takes a lumbering step toward you. you back up on instinct.

"that's alright," he purrs, voice hitting a new low, one that's far away from his professional volume. "'cause i'll take care of you. i've got you."

he stands up straight, scratching the back of his neck.

"if you'll have me... i guess that speaks for itself. i'm here, aren't i?"

you nod with a nervous chuckle. your bodies move in sync as you figure out where to put your hands. they settle on his neck, wrapping your arms around him to pull him in. his hands hold your waist. jesus, his hands are big. you'd kissed before, so this is familiar territory.

"i'll take that as a yes," his eyes flick to your lips, visibly restraining himself from fully taking advantage of you. he leans in for a tender kiss, your lips and his moving together. it turns heated quick, with his tongue darting out to get a taste of your mouth which you accept gratefully.

johnny's hands trail down to your ass, cupping the underside as if his hands were destined to fit there. he tugs upward, and you understand what he's trying to do. you jump up and break the kiss momentarily so your legs trap his waist. in between make out sessions, you guide him through your apartment to the bedroom. his lips taste bitter like alcohol but cleanly sweet. exactly how you imagined.

your mind is hazy with lust, your pussy clenching around nothing as you envision taking a monster like him for the first time. a part of you wonders if it's even possible. instead of throwing you onto the mattress, he lowers you like a princess, supporting your head and back with each hand which does nothing to help your aching wetness pooling between your legs.

johnny's lips dive to your jaw, sucking and biting tenderly. you wince, but replace the noise with a lustful gasp as he soothes the pain with his hot tongue. you want to clench your thighs together to relieve the throbbing pressure, but johnny's hands pry your legs open as his hips fit perfectly between them. like a forbidden puzzle piece. you feel his cock rub through your pajamas, and your mouth gathers drool.

johnny finds any possible plush flesh of your neck to take in, kissing wetly as he gently ruts into you, not even realizing he's doing it. he needed to explore every inch of this new body, this new lover... his mistress.

if you were to start praying for forgiveness, it'd be now. you internally cursed sonya for getting her hands on him before you could. your chest burned with jealousy and desire. he was so evilly delicious, and every inch of him needed to be inside before you'd start sobbing. your hands fly forward and tug him forward by his waistband.

"need you," is the most you can coherently ask for, blinded by your horniness. johnny pulls away from your collar, panting in your face. he can't bring himself to look directly in your eyes, your wet, pleading eyes.

"you..." he swallows thickly, brows knitting together. he frowns. "you can't tell anyone. you know that, right?''

you nod with a small whine. you wanted him to just shut up and fuck you.

"hhh - won't say anything," you huff back, gliding your dampened bottoms across his dick with need. he groans, and buries his head in your neck, a deep sigh sending goosebumps across you skin.

"atta girl..."

so hit me up when you feel down i'll make your ass stay 'til sundown i understand what you've been through 'cause I'm a sorry sucker too i know you're scared and that's alright just let me love you for the night

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #johnny cage #johnny cage x reader #johnny cage smut #mk11 #mortal kombat smut #marley writes ☆

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lovelybunn · 10 months

Text

human!wally darling w/ u wearing apple scented perfume…

warning(s): reader being a socially awkward loser, flirty wally

author's note: the main reason i clairified that he was human is bc a puppet isnt anatomically allowed to do most of what hes doing here lmao + i love melanated wally 🩷 (lowkey got ooc on last paras, we don't talk about it...)

Wally places gentle strokes against his canvas, his mind and body completely relaxed. Just as he finishes the final touches, he feels a presence behind him. He smiles, “Hello, neighbor.” He swivels around in his stool to face the figure. “Hey Wally! What is that your painting?” He looks over his shoulder back at his work. He shrugs. “No clue. I just paint how I’m feeling.”

He crosses his legs and places his cheek in the palm of his left hand. “What brings you here to visit little ol’ me, neighbor?” His eyes lidded while he bats his long lashes. You grin sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck. “Well... This may be a little random, but I’ve bought this new perfume, and I wanted to hear someone else’s opinion on whether it flattered me or not.”

He purses his lips and tilts his head in bewilderment. “Why did you come to me, specifically? Personally, I would’ve asked Julie, she’s very skilled in these kinds of things.” You nod, “Yeah, but you’re more, how do I say this? … Blunt, then she is.” He laughs in response, a noise almost like a broken record. “Is that so?” He uses two fingers to gesture you to come forward, “Then come here, darling, if you want to know what I think.”

You step closer to Wally and give him your hand. He takes it, observing the delicate lines of your palm before carefully pulling it to his nose. He breathes in deeply, taking in your scent. His face contorts, trying to recognize the fragrance.

With a flash of dopamine, his pupils dilate intensely, the black shadowing over the natural color of his irises. “You smell absolutely astonishing, (Name). This perfume is the absolute most.” He returns your hand, it slowly resting back at your side.

Your eyes avert as your cheeks warm up to a fresh shade of red. It slightly reminds Wally of a bright red apple ripe and plucked right off the tree. “I’m glad you like it so much, Wally.” You stammer; he smiles gently in response.

“I think I’m starting to understand why you asked for my view on this, (Name).” Wally looks straight into your eyes. He has read you like a book. “It’s apple scented. You knew I would love it, neighbor. My reaction got a kick out of you, didn’t it?” His words flow like velvet off his tongue.

You quickly scramble out an apology, “I'm so sorry, It's just that I–” Wally cuts you off by caressing your hand again, this time placing a sweet peck on its surface. “You're adorable, neighbor. If anything, I'm flattered for you wearing this, to get a reaction out of me." He pulls away, his eyes never leaving yours. His smile grows, canines flashing welcomely at you. “I think the way you smell has worked up an appetite in me.”

He hops off his stool and offers you his right arm, “Why not we go and do some apple picking, neighbor?” You take his arm, but pause to glance at his unfinished work. “Sure, but what about your painting?” He shrugs, “Well, I didn't know what it was to start with. It'll be fine.” Wally's expression beams with giddy intent, “Well then, neighbor, let's go! The apples are delicious this time of year.” His head turns to you. “I'm so excited! I hope I find one that tastes as sweet as the perfume you have on smells. I doubt it, though. After all, you are the sweetest apple of my eye, my darling.” Wally playfully winks as the two of you head off to the apple orchard.

#welcome home #welcome home arg #welcome home x reader #welcome home x you #wally darling #human wally darling #wally darling x reader #wally darling x you #drabble #fluff #cutie patootie #yes he has fangs bite me #first fandom post #imagines #wally the rizzard of home

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 3 months

Note

I'd like to request a ShinyHunter!Reader giving their epilogue friends Pokemon they caught during their adventure (can be traded or gifted), with handwritten notes carefully taped inside their Pokeballs kinda explaining the meaning behind them:

Carmine - Authentic Polteageist

"I came to Kitakami as a stranger but left as your friend. It's my hope that this Pokemon and your beloved Sinistcha can be good buddies just as we are now."

Kieran - Roaring Moon / Iron Valiant

"I wanted to give you something that's just as rare, powerful, and wonderful as you are. Just as you found yourself through the darkness during the excursion in Area Zero, so too did I find this Pokemon."

Arven - Arcanine

"I wanted you and Mabosstiff to have a loyal, strong companion by your side, someone who will be by your side no matter what happens in life."

Nemona - Whatever the reader's starter was

"I wanted you to carry a piece of me in your party, since you've been the first friend to support and encourage me on my adventure."

Penny - Either Espeon or Glaceon

"I know you love a certain type of Pokemon, and I hoped this one would find belonging with your team - just like you've found it with me, Team Star, and the others."

Ik we can't trade shinies but damn it if gamefreak won't let us,,,we writers WILL make it happen

........

Carmine

One of the first things she learned about you during your trip to Kitakami was your obsession with shiny-hunting. You've done it all your life, with your first ever starter pokemon being a shiny, too!

You literally spend hours at a time running around different places, looking for Pokémon that either have a darker/lighter hue to their colors or looked incredibly different.

Tbh wonders if this is some Paldea craze bc no way could she see herself wasting so much time...

Despite that, your team of shiny 'mons had great stats and kicked her team down pretty good.

For a while she thought you were being the biggest show-off.

But after everything that happened with Ogerpon, the Loyal Three, BB Academy, Kieran, Terapagos, Pecharunt, etc..Carmine becomes one of your closest friends, learning to accept and support your passions for shiny hunting.

When she decides to trade you a Poltchageist, you surprise her by trading back a Shiny Polteageist with the authentic stamp, having found it by sheer luck.

Inside its pokeball, she discovers a note carefully taped within, and you assure her she can read it in front of you.

"To Carmine: I arrived to Kitakami as a stranger, but left as your friend, and I'm glad our bond has grown stronger. It's my hope that this Authentic Polteageist and your Sinistcha can become good buddies just like we have -[Y/n]"

She was so close to tearing up until she reads the word "authentic" and wonders how tf you managed to find such a specific Pokémon (especially a shiny authentic Polteageist).

"Well I had to set up a camp near Alfornada and then-" You almost start infodumping your hunting strategies, but she stops you with a hug instead.

"I promise they'll become the best of friends, and if not....then I'll...I'll make them be friends!" She huffs, while you just smile and hug her back, glad she appreciated the note.

Kieran

In Kitakami, he was always fascinated by your team of shinies, and at dinner he gawked when you brought up tales of your harrowing adventures in trying to find them.

For instance, you nearly got beaten up by some Mankeys before finding a Shiny Primeape somewhere nearby--but talked about it so casually. Like it was just another normal day for you.

You're not only strong, but very brave too..and he admires those traits.

Although when you two meet again at BB, it's just more fuel added to his jealousy of you. And he even comments about whether you wasted more time shiny hunting or training.

In the underdepths, you found a Shiny Carbink, and he tries catching it first---only for it to break out of the pokeball, and he scowls when you capture it without much trouble.

But after reconciling with each other and resolving the whole mess with Pecharunt, Kieran decides to trade you an Applin (after hyping himself up to ask you ofc).

You considered trading him one as well...

But you thought of something even better that also held special meaning:

A Shiny Paradox Pokémon you found when you returned to Area Zero to capture the alpha 'raidon.

More specifically, it was [Roaring Moon/Iron Valiant], and he was absolutely stunned when the creature pops out and greets him, unable to believe his eyes.

"W-Wowzers, you're actually gonna let me have one of.....huh?" It presents him with a note, handwritten by you.

"To Kieran: I wanted to give you something that's just as rare, powerful, and wonderful as you are. Just like how you've found yourself through the darkness back in Area Zero, I too found this Paradox Pokémon waiting for me. May it be your guiding light to future victories -[Y/N]"

He doesn't realize he's crying at your touching message until he sees several teardrops staining the paper.

How did he get so lucky to have such a caring and forgiving person like you in his life?

Arven

He knew about your shiny hunting hobby, although at times he thinks you're nuts for willing to risk life and limb for a slightly differently colored Pokémon.

You have notes about how you found a Shiny Garganacl, Copperajah, Gabite, Houndstone, and even an Iron Bundle--all down in Area Zero.

You explain that sparkling sandwich recipes make them show up more often, and he tries it out and is stunned when he finds a Shiny later on.

Ofc you take a little pride in teaching him something new.

When he visits the League Club and decides to trade Pokémon with you, it wasn't that hard to figure out what to give him.

He's stunned when it's a Shiny Arcanine with a note taped within the pokeball, addressed to him.

"To Arven: I've helped you and Mabosstiff before, and I will do so again. So here's a Pokémon who will be forever loyal to you both. No matter what curveballs life may throw at you, Arcanine will never leave your side -[Y/N] (PS: I've been calling this one Mustard, but you can give it a new name if you wish).

He laughs a little at the end of the message, as it brought a huge smile to his face.

"Not a bad name, buddy! Thank you..truly. I think Mustard and Mabosstiff will get along just fine."

Nemona

She'll thrilled you've found your calling as a shiny hunter during your Pokemon journey, but always reminded you not to forget about being her "rival for life", too.

When all is said and done, you invited her to the clubroom at the BB Academy with an idea.

Since she was the first person in Paldea to give you the encouragement to start your Pokémon journey, you wanted to give her something extra special to show your thanks.

Although first you had to pull her away from Kieran (who was startled by her demand for a battle) and distract her by proposing a trade.

Turns out she planned to do that exact same thing when she arrived....but got caught up in meeting a fellow champion and totally forgot in her excitement.

Anyways, you finally did a trade and Nemona's amazed when you give her a shiny version of your starter Pokémon (meanwhile, your fully-leveled starter ace is standing beside you, looking proud).

She's so hyped to rush outside and train it that she doesn't even see the note you left in the pokeball until the shiny gives it to her.

"Huh?? Oh! How could I have missed this??" She gasps dramatically before sitting down to read it over.

"To Nemona: You've always supported and encouraged me since the start of my Pokémon journey, and I couldn't be more grateful. So as my first friend and rival here in Paldea, I wanted you to carry a piece of me in your party. May you both grow stronger together -[Y/N]"

Her heart is just full as she reads the sweet note, before jumping up to crush you in a hug.

This really meant a lot to her--more than you ever know considering you've been her #1 source of encouragement, too.

Penny

Tackling all the Team Star bases definitely gave you an excuse to do some shiny hunting on the side, and you soon come across an Eevee.

It had a lonely/timid nature when you caught it, feeling like a misfit despite being in your party of shinies.

You weren't sure which form to evolve it into, as it didn't seem interested in any stone or in becoming your friend.

After helping Team Star and Penny redeem themselves and resolve the mess with Pecharunt, you have a small chat in her dorm room about Shiny Eeveelutions--to which she remarks her attempts to collect them, yet is having terrible luck so far.

She's well aware that Flareon, Glaceon, and Leafeon shinies look painfully similar to their counterparts (having slightly different hues) and expresses her frustration in the fact she could have seen one but didn't realize...

Later, you find Shiny Eevee digging through your bag, and you wonder why until it pulls out an ice stone.....and it finally occurs to you that it heard your conversation with Penny.

Seems like it finally made its choice.

So when you invite her to the League Club, you trade her a Shiny Glaceon, to which she just gawks like "are you fr???? I can have this one????"

Then she sees the note meticulously taped inside and reads it to herself.

"To Penny: I know how much you love a certain type of Pokémon. So I entrust you with this Glaceon, a true Shiny. I hope it finds belonging in your team, just like you've found it in me, Team Star, and all the others -[Y/n]."

She can't help the smile growing on her face, taking off her glasses to wipe at her eyes, all while Shiny Glaceon smiles and comforts her--proving that it's ready to be her new companion.

#clanask #anonymous #pokemon x reader #pokemon sv x reader #pokemon scarlet x reader #pokemon violet x reader #pokemon carmine #pokemon kieran #pokemon arven #pokemon penny #pokemon nemona #shiny pokemon #headcanons

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sameschmidtdiffname · 2 months

Text

And now, for some shit ain't nobody asked for... *drumroll please...*

Fanboy Futturman Headcanons That Hardly Make Sense Unless You're Deranged

(because it's fun)

Tags: just rawdog it bruh, idk what this is. I got fucken murmed.

Notes: Special thanks to @luverstream for going insane with me. This list is based off of our oddly specific thread. Love you pookers <3

°☆>》¤●¤《<☆°

• 100% started writing fanfiction for 'Biotic Wars' because there was only two works in the whole fandom and they were both illiterate/ooc

• It started as a challenge because he likes writing as a hobby so he made a random account on Tumblr and wrote a one-shot from Tigers POV just for shits and giggles

• He didn't expect literally anyone to read it, maybe a couple notes

• Then around his lunch break the next day his phone won't. Stop. Dinging.

• Long story short, he ends up with an account with like. 1.1k followers

• Once he realizes he has a serious reader base, he takes his blog seriously

• He spends a weird amount of time perfectly curating his blogs aesthetic with mods and whatever extentions he can find

• Personally commissions other fans for his fanfic borders, proper gifs, etc. He has one fanfic actually illustrated for Kinktober and it stays at the top of the 'Biotic War' tags for months

• Speaking of Kinktober, literally will not make plans for October/late September because he knows he's gonna aim to post everyday

• Will stay up for days writing when he gets hyperfixated

• Hates posting short fics. If the number doesn't end with a .k he doesn't post it until it does

• Also has a bunch of Easter eggs from his favorite movies and such in his works as well

• Knows an insane amount of copywrite laws because he's had to deal with people illegally selling his works/uploading them on other platforms

• When he eventually gets a partner he initially lies and says he wanted to become a lawyer when he was a kid, thus why he knows so much

• That works for about 12 minutes before he finally breaks down and tells them the truth, then offers to show them his work because he's told literally no one in his personal life about it

• His partner eventually becomes his editor and co-author on certain works (mainly smut)

• Half the time when he's actively working on smut he's gotta stop midway to "test the accuracy" w/ said partner

• Writes OUTRAGEOUS smut that makes him unable to look in the mirror while he's writing it

• Deadass hides under his blankets in total darkness with tape over his computers camera because of the shame

• Has a collection of proofreaders/consultants because his first smut included cervix penetration and he got dragged by basically everyone on Tumblr for it

• Had a work get popular enough one time one of his friends sent it to him because they figured he'd get a kick out of it

• Which made him panic and stop writing for like a month to lay low

• Has a completely different Spotify account for writing because his mom uses his "normal" account even though he has a family plan (side note: they make little playlists for each other :))

• Has like 50 different playlists dedicated to his fics that's available for his readers to listen to

• The artists all range from Deftones to dodie depending on the work

• His top artist is Ayesha Erotica with 2000+ minutes spent on 'Yummy'

• (Also has an impossible amount of hours logged on said Spotify account)

• Has a whole panic attack when he leaves his phone in the 60s because he had a whole new chapter ready to publish in his 20 part hurt/no comfort/slowburn fic that was over 10.k words in his notes app

• Wolf finds his Ao3 account one time and becomes... concerningly obsessed with Futturmans work without realizing Futturman is the author

• It gets to the point Wolf will legit go on 30+ minute rants about the stories while Futturman is just hyperventilating in the corner because he doesn't know how long he can keep up the facade

• It gets worse when Wolf makes an account and starts actually commenting on the works

• However he ends up getting impressive tips from the rants and ends up incorporating his suggestions into his works

• Wolf never stops bragging about this

• His most popular work/series follows a female oc that originally started as a one-shot request for a oc x Wolf fic (which Wolf hates because he says it's OoC. Futturman does not agree nor care.) But ended up getting popular enough there's well over 20 parts

• At some point he, Wolf and Tiger get into a massive argument because he finds a bound copy of all of his works amongst their supplies and no one will confess who's it is and keep blaming each other

• (It's Tigers)

• When he gets to his final timeline he manages to get his all of his drafts back through Susan (who had a lot of questions, and was given no answers) and just publishes his work as an original series since Biotic Wars no longer exists

• "Orginial series" gets insanely popular and now he has like five burner accounts so he can read fanfiction of his own fanfiction

• Writes fanfiction for his own series purposely to fuck with the fanbase

• Usually will make it ooc but well written, but once in awhile comes up with a "headcanon" that will come true in his next book so he can watch the readers implode

• And last but not least

• He casts his other self in the final timeline as the male lead in the eventual movie adaptation. Because of course he would

(Bonus: in the OG timeline when Futturman ends up disappearing, his biggest series ends up never being finished, nor his blog updated. Leading to a weirdly thorough four hour video docuseries made by Wendigoon about the rise and disappearance of the mysterious author and how the 'Biotic Wars' fandom eventually finished the fic themselves and created their own spinoffs, leading the work to get more popular than 'Biotic Wars' ever was and like five different people falsely claiming they wrote it, only to be disproven within an insanely short amount of time. Yeah, kinda a full on My Immortal.)

>¤》○《¤<

Don't ask me what this was, I think I got possessed. Anyways, bon achoo sweet.

Taglist:

@cassiecasluciluce @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 . Thank you for your support pookies!!! <3

•▪︎Masterlist▪︎•

#josh hutcherson fanfic #josh hutcherson #jhutch #josh hutcherson fluff #josh hutcherson imagine #jhutch1992 #josh futturman #josh hutcherson x reader #josh futturman headcanons #josh futturman smut #josh futturman x reader #josh futterman x reader #josh futturman x y/n #jfutz #future man 2017 #future man hulu #future man

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sugawhaaa · 3 months

Note

food for thought xh catches you reading a smut about them and they do exactly what the smut says and more.

OMG HOW DID I NEVER THINK OF THIS OMG IM WRITING SO FAST RN ✍️✍️✍️✍️

XH REACTION

Catching you reading smut about them

Pairings: ot6 x fem!reader

Warnings: smut

A/N:: SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG IM SORRY BUT I HOPE IT WAS WORTH THE WAIT

Genre:fingering, oral (fem receiving){o.de} choking (?) {Junhan} oral (m receiving) {jooyeon} collar {jungsu}

Gunil

-you were in your bed late at night. Gunil was on the other side of the bed facing his back to you as he snored quietly. You bit the tip of your finger as you continued to read the fanfic about him. Yes, you were going delulu for your own boyfriend, kicking your feet and blushing while you scrolled through. The fanfic was rather suggestive and slowly turned more and more smutty as you continued to read.

You felt your cheeks heating up as you imagined him doing this to you. Hitting all of the most sensitive parts of your body, his soft hands running along your body. The main theme of this fanfic was him experimenting with you. Specifically using a vibrator on you for the first time.

Just then the lamp next to your bed clicked on. You rolled over and saw Gunil now sitting up. Did you somehow disrupt him?

"Your still awake?" He said as he rubbed his eyes. You look at the time on your phone and notice it's 1 am.

"I guess I am..." you sighed as you still thought about the fanfic you were just reading. "That shirt looks good on you," you gestured to his white shirt before sitting up with him. Your phone still unlocked.

"Thanks," Gunil chuckled in his sleepy voice, "you do look sexy but you shouldn't be wearing your bra to bed like this," He sighed. "It's not good for you," he said as he held one of your hands, rubbing it gently with his thumb.

"I know I was just...hoping maybe you'd take it off," you said as you snuggled next to him.

"What?" He sounded genuinely confused.

"I thought we'd have some fun tonight but I-I don't know," you laughed awkwardly and shrugged. Gunils eyes then fell upon your phone.

"What are you reading?" He said as he picked up your phone innocently. You panicked as his eyes scanned the phone. "Oh~" he smirked as he continued to read. Your face turned red and you tried to snatch the phone out of his hands but he lifted it out of your reach. "You're dirty~" he smirked.

"Gunil stop!" You cried as you tried to reach your phone. He then set it aside and pinned you to the bed.

"Do you like role-playing?" He asked with a little smirk.

"W-What?" You blushed.

"Because I think it'd be fun to reenact that little story. Make it a dream come true," he smirked as his hands went up your stomach seductively. "Maybe a wet dream,"

Jungsu

-the fanfic that was presented before you was world-changing. Jungsu in a collar. Like a cat. But not in a weird way. But in a weird way. You were home alone reading your kinky fanfic by yourself while you touched yourself. Your fingers teasing yourself as you rolled them up and down your folds. That was until Jungsu came home. He opened the door with a smile.

"Y/N-ah! I'm home...." his jaw dropped as he saw you pleasuring yourself. You blushed and closed your legs. He closed the door and set down his bag. He sat next to you on the bed.

"Jungsu?" You blushed. He hadn't said a word since he walked into your room. He crawled on top of you and you covered your face with your phone. He picked up your phone and looked at it, expecting porn or something but he was surprised. A fanfic. About him. He was intrigued by the prompt.

"So you want to see me in a collar?" He asked with a smirk and set your phone by your bed. You blushed but didn't answer. "Lucky for you, we have one. Wait here princess," he told you to stay as he got up and left the room. A few minutes later he came into the room with a collar on his neck with a chain. He gave you the end of the chain, which had a handle. You blushed as he started taking off his clothes. He was so obident and just accepted his fate.

"Now what?" You blushed as he took off his pants.

"Now you take control of me," he grinned as he laid down.

Gaon

-Gaon put his chin on your shoulder as you were through scrolling your phone. His arms secured around your body. His soft, half-opened eyes, followed your screens movements. He then saw a notification. Something from Tumblr. He pretended his eyes were closed when you looked at him but he opened his eyes right after you opened the notification.

It was the next chapter of the fanfic you were reading about...maybe your own boyfriend. He was just on tour right now and this little sip of delulu medicine was what you needed.

His eyes followed every line as the story got more and more intimate before there was a full on sex scene in a car. You looked over at Gaon to find his eyes opened, he was fully awake. His jaw was on the floor as he stared at your screen.

Your jaw also dropped when your eyes met his. You turned off your phone, set it to the side, and covered your face with a pillow. Your cheeks grew hot and embarrassed. He crawled over to you, still without saying a word, and hugged you. Nuzzling his nose into your neck. You set the pillow down and looked at the floor.

Gaon leans back and tilts his head. His hand reaches out and he kisses your cheek.

"Don't stress about it. I know how lonely you get~" he teased as he hugged you from behind. "Is that how you like it?" He asked while playing with your hair.

"W-what!?" You said shocked by his reaction.

"I noticed a lot of praise mentioned in the fanfic along with a specific position. I'm curious if that's what you prefer in bed?" He smiled innocently as your cheeks heated up.

"W-well I guess so..." you blushed.

"Then let's try it," he sat up and took off his shirt. Once again you were shocked by his reaction.

"Right now?" You said as you sat up.

"Why not right now?" He smiled as he held your waist. "I know you want to~" he smiled cutely and you rolled your eyes, caving into his charms.

O.de

You should've known you'd get caught. You were reading late at night while o.de slept after a long day of practice. You could hear him breathing calmly but you, on the other hand, were freaking out. You were reading a very dirty fanfic of o.de, basically smut with no plot. You rubbed your thighs together as you bit the tip of your finger as you read. The fanfic was centered around seungmin eating you out and it had you craving your boyfriend even more.

After his practice today you were hoping to have some fun with him but he seemed so tired you just let him be. That was until now. You were so horny you felt like ripping your hair out. You then decided to roll down your pajama shorts and slide your middle finger down your folds as you continued to read. You then felt O.des hand on your thigh. You jumped and turned to him.

"I-I didn't know you were still awake," you blushed but O.de just hushed you softly. His eyes were half-open and he looked like he had just woken up from a 300-year-long nap. His hands went between your thighs as he shifted in the bed sheets. "S-seungmin...what are you doing?" You blushed as his lips got closer to your aching pussy.

"You're horny," he said simply.

"Y-Yes but you're so tired," you said worriedly. He groaned in his groggy voice. He pushed one of your thighs up and he licked up your folds. You jumped and felt your legs jump.

"I don't care. You taste too good," he chuckled and you could feel his breath against your sensitive clit. "I want to get drunk off your cunt,"

Junhan

Junhan's head rested on your thighs as he played his acoustic guitar. He always loved to lay on your squishy thighs and play his guitar with you. He was in his own world so you decided to do some reading. About...your boyfriend. You couldn't help it. When you opened Tumblr the first thing you saw was a fanfic of Junhan and the cover and prompt looked so good.

The fanfiction's main theme was choking. But not like to the point where the reader couldn't breathe but more as a place for Junhan to rest his hand as he pounded into you. The fanfic was very well written and contained a lot of stuff that TURNED YOU ON. including hair-pulling, cuffs, and so much cum.

You then noticed Junhan's guitar stopped playing. You then noticed his eyes on your phone. His cheeks were a bright pink and his eyes were wide. You blushed and pulled your phone away. "I..." you didn't know what to say. He then put his guitar on the edge of your bed and leaned forward, pinning you to the bed. He tilted his head, his long dark hair going through his eyes. You blushed and hid your face.

He lifted up his hand and looked at it.

"Do you really like being choked?" He asked curiously as he looked at the metal guard on his finger. You blushed and nodded.

"To an extent," you looked up at him as you felt your thighs rub together subconsciously. He chuckled as he noticed what you were doing. He then put his hand around your neck and the other went to the waistband of your pants. You jumped and Junhan grinned. One of his long cold fingers slid down your folds. You moaned louder than you wanted to admit.

"And I thought I was sensitive~" he smirked as he inserted a finger that had a metal guard on it. You jumped as the textures of the ring stimulated your walls. You grabbed onto the bed sheets and Junhan looked at you through hooded eyes. "Such a pretty little slut,"

Jooyeon

You sat on your bed while Jooyeon played his bass guitar on the floor beside you. Unbeknownst to him you were reading the most vile fanfic to exist which was about him. He looked up at you innocently with his circle glasses and hair messily tied up. Your cheeks were pink and Jooyeon got suspicious. He worried that maybe you were cheating on him.

He visibly pouted but you were too busy reading about him fucking you senseless. That was until you had to use the bathroom. You turned off your phone and got up to go to the washroom. While you were gone Jooyeon did what he swore he'd never do. He picked up your phone and opened it. Your lock screen was a photo of him. He smiled and blushed but remembered his goal here. He unlocked your phone and saw the fanfic.

The first words he saw were "Yes, Mommy ~" and his face turned bright red when he saw his name after it. He continued to read on and found out you were a very kinky girl. You then opened the door and Jooyeon jumped.

"How do you read this without getting a heart attack when people enter the room!" He shouted as he turned off your phone and threw it on your bed. You blushed and he covered his mouth.

"We're you reading-!" You said as your jaw dropped.

"I-I thought you were texting another guy and I know I shouldn't have but I checked and then I...yeah," he blushed and tucked his legs behind him. You slapped your forehead. "You're into very different stuff than I thought," he said without looking at you as you stood in front of him. You stood in front of him with a hand on your hip. I'm sorry he bowed to you in respect before he looked up at you to see under your skirt.

You frowned at him and raised an eyebrow. He sat up and moved back before hitting in head on your bed frame. "Ah-" he groaned as he rubbed his head. You kneeled down to him and grabbed him by his shirt kissing him.

"Get on the bed," you said straight forward. He blushed and got on the bed. You pinned him to the bed on all fours. His arms were above his head and his hair flowed out. His glasses were crooked as his big eyes looked up at you. You noticed his boner and you grinned. Your hands went to his belt and he jumped.

"P-please be gentle," he blushed as you undid his jeans and pulled his boxers down to his knees. He blushed and squirmed beneath you. Once his length was free you licked all along one of the veins. Jooyeon whimpered and covered his mouth.

#xdinary heroes #xdh imagines #xdh smut #xdinari hero fanfic #xdinary heroes fluff #skz #skz fanfic #xdh #xdh fluff #xdh x reader

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shy-urban-hobbit · 1 month

Note

"wait...is this a date?" with Husk & Angel please :3c

Slight C/W for typical Val behaviour

Angel kicked his feet idly where they hung off the arm of the lobby sofa as he scrolled through his socials. He'd only just been able to start moving around without a limp that morning after Val had damn near broken his leg and while he was happy for the break (hah!) from work, he was now starting to go slightly stir crazy after being housebound for two days after Val had decided he was useless while one of his legs was twice the size of the other.

He scowled to himself as he shifted around slightly. He was pretty sure that was a spring digging into the small of his back but he couldn't muster the energy to rectify it - as Hell's most famous pornstar, he'd been in way more uncomfortable positions - he could live with something that wasn't a dick poking him in the back until someone or something gave him a worthwhile reason to move.

"Hey, Legs."

Angel yelped and cursed in quick succession as the sudden appearance of the hotel's resident cat demon made him promptly drop his phone onto his face.

"Asshole." He grumbled, rubbing the bridge of his nose, "First ya ditch me, and then ya make me injure myself. I should make ya kiss it better."

"It's not ditchin' ya if it was work." Husk answered as he placed the new bottles on the bar top, "As for the other thing, can I substitute one of those cups of sugar masquerading as a drink?"

Angel sat up to peek over the back of the sofa. Sure enough Husk was stood holding out a hot pink frappe from his favourite coffee place, an eyebrow raised as he shook the cup slightly, enticingly, "Well?"

"I've told ya you're my favourite, right?" Angel asked, making grabby hands until Husk handed it over, the smell of artificial raspberry filling his nose. "What's in the other bag?"

"Nothin' much. You wanna hang out in my room for a while?"

Angel blinked, finger still in his mouth as he paused in licking off melted whipped cream from where it had run down the side of the cup, "Ain't we got another redemption exercise or hugging circle or some shit in like, 5 minutes?" Not that Angel was complaining; Charlie had used his unexpected freetime to really double down on his possible redemption. Whatever had been said in that meeting with Heaven making her more determined then ever and if he had to look at one more crayon drawing or diagram he was going to start tearing his hair out - he may or may not have played up the whole wanting to rest up and heal thing once or twice, just to get her to leave him alone for 5 minutes (and God bless Vaggie for having his back on that one, even if the look she threw him told him she knew he was exaggerating and even though the princess was always quick to comply with minimal fuss and puppy eyes ever since the whole 'boundary crossing' thing).

Husk shrugged, holding out a hand, "Talked to Charlie earlier, we've both got a pass on this one."

"Fine." Angel took the hand without even thinking about it, gingerly testing his leg after laying down for so long - it still ached, but he didn't end up face planting or anything, "But if we end up having to do some weird extra credit thing later on, I'm blamin' you."

"Noted." Husk chuckled as he grabbed the mystery bag and headed upstairs, Angel's hand still in his.

Angel had only been in Husk's room a handful of times but he'd made a game of trying to see if anything was new or even remotely out of place whenever he entered. The small space was so uniformly neat and organised it was almost like a display rather than an actual living space. Part of Angel wondered if it was a control thing - he used to seek some semblance of control over what entered his body and when and what he'd remember through drink and drugs, why couldn't this be Husk's way? It seemed kind of funny now that the old him probably would've purposely moved things around or hidden something, just to fuck with the other.

"Sooo.... anything specific in that fuzzy head or ya just wanna bask in my presence?"

"So fucking humble." Husk opened up a laptop Angel hadn't noticed sat on the bed before now, "And I was thinkin' a movie. You in?"

"Sure. Surprised Al lets ya have one a those. Y'know, with the whole hatin' any tech after the 40's schtick." Angel said as he settled at the head of the bed, using one set of arms to attempt to plump up Husk's measly excuse for pillows.

"Borrowed it." Husk answered, not giving any details about who from (although Angel had a pretty solid idea if the rainbow and heart stickers were anything to go by).

"Oh my fuckin' God. How dense is this broad?" Angel laughed, throwing his head back against Husk's shoulder after having decided the cat was comfier to lean on than his flat pillows, Husk's arm resting on the low headboard behind them, "The guy's been pining since like, day one!"

"I think the dialogue's maybe one step up from the shit they have you spewin' and that's a low fuckin' bar!"

"Hey, it's all in the delivery, an' I got toys that ain't as stiff as these two." Angel crunched on a strawberry lollipop as the two protagonists acted out yet another 'cute' encounter like they had a gun pointed at their heads, "Y'know I'm surprised ya agreed ta this one. I didn't think it'd be your kinda thing."

"It ain't, but the fact it's so bad it's funny is makin' it bearable."

Angel hummed in agreement, snuggling further into Husk's chest fur as the female protagonists stereotypical gay BFF was laying the truth out for her in that the casual 'not a date' had totally been a date.

"Girl, he invited you over, made sure you weren't going to be interrupted, got you your favourite foods -"

Angel snuck a glance at the various wrappers covering the bed after he'd finally been given permission to dump out the contents of the bag.

"Jeez Husk, you raid a candy store an' just grab anythin' pink?"

"...no."

"Oh my god, you just grabbed anythin' pink!"

"I didn't know what you'd like. Seemed a safe bet."

"Well, well, ain't we the cocky one? Ya that sure I was gonna say yes? And ya bet payed off, just so ya know."

"-sat through something he knew would make him want to gouge his eyes out 'cos he knew you'd like it. How many more clues do you need?!"

Angel blinked, this insult to romcoms suddenly feeling a little too on the nose. Husk clearly felt the same if the way he was suddenly showing great interest in the acid rain falling outside was any indication.

"Wait...Husk, is this a date?"

Husk's tail twitched as he bought his attention to the other demon, cheeks slightly pink under his fur and ears dipped slightly, "It can be, if ya want. Or it can just be two friends hangin' out, rippin' a terrible movie to shreds. Your call."

Angel moved slowly, partly because of his leg and partly because he didn't want to spook the other as he sat himself in Husk's lap, mindful not to let his expression slip into the lewd mask he usually had to wear when he was practically straddling someone on a bed as he cupped Husk's jaw so the cat couldn't look anywhere but at him, "Yeah. I want."

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #huskerdust #hazbin huskerdust #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin angel dust #husk #angel dust #angel dust x husk #angel dust/husk #husk/angel dust #husk x angel dust

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rustys-lodge · 5 months

Note

hi love, can i request a Shelby sister fic where she’s kind of like sandie (last night in soho) where she dreams of making it big as a showgirl and she meets a man who promises her the world kind of like a pimp. she gets caught up in that showgirl life and her brothers do everything to stop her and she like loses it basically the plot of last night in Soho pretty much (re writing it cause i keep checking!)

Warnings : physical violence, prostitution, blood, murder, basically all the stuff that goes on in the movie.

A/N : i wrote half of this in class lol, i wish i could have posted it when you sent the request again but i had lots of homework. Anyways, i hope i didn't dissapoint. ❤❣

------

"Close your eyes."

You can't. they're going to be looking back.

"Y/n, close your eyes!"

You can't.

"I said, close your fuckin' eyes."

"I fucking can't." You hurl the words out of your mouth like a rabid dog's bark.

You can't close your eyes. All you see is their faces. The faces of the men that used your silence for their own selfish pleasures. You couldn't close your eyes because all you could see was their slashed faces, more specifically, the blood gushing out, their irises wide, your own disgusting reflection firing in their terrified eyes and those tears that never seemed to dry.

---

A few days ago, you were at your last straw, you were fighting that urge, that last one, the one that needed to go the most.

You hurried up the stairs, the soles of your feet stinging with every step you took. your hand took ahold of the handle, enhancing your balance and so, propelling you forward,helping you gain a few more crucial seconds, you hurried to the room, shutting the door closed just in time for him to get to you. You locked the door and pressed your back against it.

A loud bang vibrated the door you were leaning against. Startled, your heart thudded every time his fist collided with the wood.

Another bang sounded...And another one.... relentless and eager to get you to die. Your body shook to your core and you squeezed your eyes tight, the blue and the red lighting of the bistro still seeping through your shut eyelids.

You needed an escape. You needed to-

"Open this fucking door, you whore. You know you did this to yourself, now open this fucking door."

You needed to kill him. That's it.

You marched to the bed, tucking your hand under the pillow to retrieve the knife you so long hid under there. Your little protector. Your fingers tightly squeezed the handle and you walked back to the door, your hand eagerly pushing the handle down.

That's it. I'm doing it. I'm killing him.

As the door frame swung open, your agent, Jack, stood at the door, only his silhouette was apparent, his head was cocked to the side, he stared at you. Although his eyes were shadowed by his propelled brow ridge, you knew that he was staring. because you knew him. And you held the knife even closer to you. And you would've used it, if he hadn't barked at your face.

"You know you deserve it, slut."

You froze at the comment, not that it's the first time you heard it, it's the shock that comes with it every time, the sudden realization of your current situation, where you'd gotten and where you w-

A sudden ache etched from your jaw when Jack's palm violently made contact with it, snapping you out of your thoughts and sending you backwards, with a sudden rush of adrenaline.

You were more than ready to fight. but you needed not to die first.

You shifted away as Jack stormed over to you, bending down swiftly take ahold of your footbut your good reflexes were even faster, you kicked him backwards, hard. Hard enough to have him staggering.

"Stop it, slut." Jack's hand swung again, grabbing your ankle, hindering you from kicking again.

"Leave. Me. Alone." Your hand scrambled around for the knife that fell from your hand earlier but you got interrupted when jack's body suddenly jolted forward, crashing over your own body, squeezing the air in your lungs shut.

"I got him."

A voice that sounded like a divine presence spoke and you recognized it right away, hoarse and angry. You just couldn't bel-believ-believe....Or brea-breathe..

As the man's doubled weight got lifted off of you, you drew the deepest breath in, still unable to process or comprehend what had just happened.

"It's okay, sweetheart, we're here now."

Your eyes followed the voice, and figures of the Shelby brothers seemed to stand by the door, like angels guarding god's little creatures. One of them, Tommy, who reached his hand out for you. But still frozen, you didn't take it.

"It's okay, honey, he's gone." As you were unresponsive, He scooped you up from the ground you laid on.

"It's okay, honey, he's gone."

From the corner of your blurred eyes, you saw Jack's cadaver being kicked and spat on. You'd smile. But your jaw was too numb.

"It's ok-"

"it's okay, Sweetheart."

Your eyes roll to the back of your head, and you turn the other way, facing away from him.

A very frustrated sigh leaves his lips. He's still calm, though. "I told you i won't let anything like this ever happen to you again, sweetheart. I'm here now."

A second later the bed frame roars and Tommy is hugging you from the back;

For a very quick second you're about to startle, but Tommy proceeds by softly whispering into your ear first, "It's okay. It's just me." His arm envelops your chest, sending the warmth of his body vibrating into yours.

"I see them too. They may not be the same people but i see them too. Im here.".

-----

Hello, yall, i will be changing accounts soon. I'm going to start writing on the other one, if yall have any requests, please go on that one. ❤️❤️❤️🥀🥀🥀

#shelby sister #peaky blinder imagine #tommy shelby x sister!reader #shelby sister!reader #shelby tag #tommy shelby x sister #thomas shelby #peaky blinders #peaky blinders sister #peaky sister #late night in soho fic #sister!reader #sister x brothers

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t-lostinworlds · 1 year

Text

I Spy, No Spy | Peter Parker

》 PAIRING: peter parker x avenger/secret agent female!reader

》 TROPE/GENRE: friends to lovers; fake dating-ish; fluff

》 SUMMARY: You're a trained spy, Peter was not. But you two ended up on a mission together where he was needed to be less of the chatty superhero in red & blue tights and more of a debonair undercover agent in a suit & tie. It shouldn't be too difficult, right? No mask, no web shooters. Just you and him pretending to be fiancés, hiding and making out in a closet to avoid getting caught—simple. Unless he included his overgrowing feelings for you, of course.

》 WARNINGS: peter being down bad & horny™️ for r (my fave genre of peter by the looks of it), slight self-deprecating peter, pet names (darling, my love, babe, angel), peter x suit x glasses (a dangerous combo), mediocre spy-ish stuff, canon typical violence (i.e. guns, knives, fighting, ass-kicking), slight jealousy/possessiveness (both parties), slight pettiness from r, closet make-out, little peter got excited (idk why i said it like that lmao it’s just a boner), cuddling w/ boob grab (not sexual lol).

》 WORD COUNT: 21.3k+ (is anyone still surprised)

✘ MOODBOARD

A/N: this idea has been in my drafts since sept or oct 2020? I think? basically i plotted this a decade ago a.k.a this happens after Endgame but before...anything else (NWH who? lol) this is more an alternate universe tho. i honestly have no idea how i feel about this but i did enjoy writing it. a pretty tame, fun lil spy au fic so nothing groundbreaking sksks anyways! i hope you enjoy!

📍 BLOG NAVIGATION ✩ PETER PARKER MASTERLIST ✩ MAIN MASTERLIST ✩

⊱ ─────.⋅♚ *｡･ﾟ.★. *｡･ﾟ✫*.

The sun rays that leaked through Peter's bedroom window tickled his eyelids, making them flutter open as he yawned.

A tired smile curled on his lips as he buried his nose into his pillow. It was rather comforting, hearing the faint chirping of birds, the soft rustle of the tree just outside his room, and hell, even the chants in the far-off distance of people training.

It was a peaceful Saturday morning, and Peter really liked that.

To top it off, summer had just begun, so no college work to worry about in the meantime. He was finally having a much-needed break from obligation and responsibilities—well, not entirely since the superhero gig didn't really have actual breaks. But he was hopeful that today was a quiet day, at least.

There were plenty of activities that could take up his whole day. He could start with a morning run around the large stretch of land, maybe pack up some breakfast and eat it by the lake, located at the edge of the area. He didn't mean to sound like some guru, but he could really use being one with nature for a little bit. Maybe he could meet his friends for lunch if any of them were free, or maybe he could spend the afternoon relaxing by the compound's private pool—

"Good morning, Peter."

Peter jumped with a squeak, limbs tangling with his sheets, making him fall off the bed with a loud thud. Groaning, he slowly sat up on the floor, rubbing the back of his head to soothe it.

That was certainly one way to get the sleep out of your system.

"Emergency meeting in conference room A-One in ten minutes."

Well, so much for his plans to relax.

"Got it, FRIDAY."

It was still a bit odd hearing the A.I. as an alarm early in the morning most of the time. She was certainly very helpful though. From scheduling to reminders, simple google searches to more complicated equation-solving whenever he would need help.

FRIDAY was like the compound's own Alexa but much, much more advanced. Well, she certainly wasn't meant to be used as such but nobody could truly blame him for not taking the perks for granted.

And there were a lot of perks living in the place—the Avenger's compound, to be specific—and despite being here for almost a year now, Peter still hadn't gotten used to its extravagance, much less exhausted all its resources.

It was a drastic change from the little apartment where he and May used to live, and he wasn't talking about the size alone.

She was living with Happy now, Peter visiting over for dinner whenever he could. She was a bit reluctant to let him move out at first. It was expected when they'd practically been living together for a good chunk of his life. But he was grown now, so wanting to dabble into independence shouldn't come off as a surprise.

Sure, it was more him being available and closer to saving the world type of independence, but independence, nonetheless.

Plus, Peter simply wanted to give them as much privacy as he could.

Happy and May were like teenagers in love and the things he heard despite the thick walls thanks to his enhanced abilities…he'd rather not think about it. His super hearing definitely helped in making the decision.

He still hadn't stopped patrolling New York, of course. If it was a quiet day on earth—more so, the universe—he still swung about the city, stopping any petty crime he would come across. But when an Avenger's level threat would arise, Peter was now only a couple of doors down, equipped and ready to join the mission.

It was difficult to juggle: his normal life, attending college, being Spider-Man on top of being an official Avenger.

Nonetheless, Peter wouldn't have it any other way.

Maybe it was because he enjoyed the thrill of taking the superhero gig to the next level. Or maybe it was because he was granted the opportunity to live lavishly in the compound. Maybe it was the sheer feeling of accomplishment and pride to be able to save the world.

Or maybe it was because he got to see you every day.

You, who Peter has an insanely huge crush—no, who he really, really liked.

He might even go as far as to say that he was falling for you.

The two of you had moved in at the same time.

He could still vividly remember how he'd just placed the last box on his bed when the building shook. He peered out his window to see what the commotion was about, just in time to catch the Quinjet landing on the well-kept grass. His brows had furrowed in curiosity when the door opened, watching Sam and Bucky come out first, then a third figure trailing right behind them.

Peter didn't really believe in love at first sight, but God did it feel like that when he first saw you.

Okay, maybe it wasn't exactly love—or maybe it was, who knows—but he really couldn't deny how intrigued he was of you, intimidated even. And that was when you walked into the common room in simple jeans and a pink hoodie.

He swooned the minute you smiled at him when you introduced yourself, his knees wobbling the minute you shook his hand.

It was later on that he found out that you were a former (more like forced) member of HYDRA, abducted at a young age, trained to be one of their elite spies, and brainwashed to do their bidding. Which was why it made so much sense how the one and only Bucky Barnes had a soft spot for you—quite surprising for someone who was known to be a huge grump.

You actually came from Wakanda that day, to erase whatever it was HYDRA planted into your brain. Now, you were a recruit on the team, willing to do good with the skills you now had.

You and Peter were around the same age—part of the young ones, as Bucky pointed out—so it didn't really take long for you to become friends.

Well, a friend he kept ridiculously fawning over, a friend who made his heart race whenever you were nearby, a friend who Peter didn't really want to remain as such.

He was thankful though, being your friend was better than being no one to you at all.

But still, it was difficult to suppress his feelings, especially when you were one of, if not, the sweetest and kindest person Peter had the pleasure of knowing.

Whenever he would stumble into the compound late at night, all badly beaten and bruised, somehow, you'd be the only one awake, helping him up to his own room where you'd then clean his wounds for him.

The first night it happened, you had said FRIDAY alerted you of his presence. You had rushed as fast as you could when the A.I. mentioned he was injured. After that, it simply became a routine for you both.

It was like an unspoken rule around the compound, how you were always the one who'd patch Peter up after missions—unless you weren't present, of course. There were even a handful of occasions where Peter would be the one patching you up, a rare instance where he'd be home from campus while you'd come back from an intense mission that rewarded you with fresh bruises and cuts.

He was convinced you were simply being nice to him, though. You did consider him as your friend and you were kind enough to help with an ailment or two. You were such a caring person overall. He was sure if it was any other person, you'd do the same. So, Peter wasn't exactly special in that regard.

But then you got assigned to help him train every weekend, which only made his overgrowing crush for you, well, grow some more.

It was a new requirement for recruits, learning how to fight without much use of technology.

From the wise words of the new captain: Gadgets and tech should be there as extra sets of tools, not as a replacement for your arms and limbs. If you rely on them too much, they're going to become crutches.

Bucky stared at Sam funnily at that—since his vibranium arm was both a tool and a replacement of his limb—but everyone got what he meant. Being able to take down bad guys with only your bare hands was definitely more helpful than not.

Peter didn't know if someone was secretly spying on him, or had overheard him gushing about you to Harley—or if said friend himself had ratted him out—that led to the two of you being paired together.

Bucky said that you were the best woman for the job to help improve hand-to-hand combat or overall fighting skills. You'd been training since you were young after all, and that was saying something. Peter was probably still learning his additions and subtractions while you had already mastered the art of jiu jitsu. Wanda added that the two of you were already close hence why you got paired together, simply to skip through that awkward phase of introductions.

Peter had a feeling the two were playing matchmaker. But he chose to ignore it.

Either way, it certainly didn't help his predicament.

Being so close to you in that regard, with you wearing those tight leggings and tank tops, grunting and sweating, your bodies getting tangled and just…yeah.

Training with you was enough to make his head—both heads, if being honest, but he'll keep the other one to himself—explode.

You were incredible.

So it didn't take much for him to get distracted by you during your sessions, either.

More often than not, Peter would find himself watching you in awe rather than trying to dodge your punches. You called him out on it a few times, and each time he'd turn pink, the tint on his skin turning darker when you'd order him to do push-ups as a means to discipline. You were strict at times, but he was still so lucky that you were also being patient with him when he couldn't get it quite right the first few times. Although, you being in command and in control only added to his endless list of things he was swooning over you for.

It was admirable the way you would have him so out of breath after a spar and he was the one with superpowers. You were being smart with it, tactical with the when, where and how to hit rather than just throwing a punch for the sake of it. You'd dance around him, gracefully, swiftly, strongly, each move precisely choreographed to outmatch him as if you'd already looked into the future to know what he was going to do next.

Peter was a goner the minute you pinned him down on the floor for the tenth time in that one session.

He didn't know if it was the smug smirk on your face, your knees on either side of his hips, the way you had his hands above his head, or everything all at once. But Peter's blood was definitely boiling with every touch, rushing up to his brain that quickly turned it to mush—or maybe it was rushing down. He really couldn't tell where the pulsing was coming from. If it was his heart or some other organ that gets filled with blood.

By then, he couldn't stop thinking about you, couldn't stop talking about you, head over heels like he was living and breathing for you.

Ned and Harley said it was an obsession at this point but in his defense, you were way out of his league.

And he hadn't even taken into account how you felt about him.

Sometimes, Peter would have an inkling that his feelings were reciprocated. With the way you'd smile at him, the way you'd say sweet things to him, and the lingering touches from time to time, how could he not?

But, what if that was his rose-colored glasses making them seem like something they're not? Was it truly acts of affection and adoration or was it Peter's brain just romanticizing the shit out of simple kind gestures done for a friend?

Then came the thought that you were sweet and kind to everyone. It was just who you are, a ray of sunshine through and through—a ray of sunshine that could kick your ass ten times over but still. He'd rather not give himself too much hope. It was safer to assume that you were only seeing and treating him as a friend and nothing more.

Besides, it was too far-fetched, someone like you feeling something for someone like him.

You'd walk down a hallway with your head held high, while Peter would keep his eyes trained on the tiles. You'd stare your enemy down with no hesitation, your presence commanding, threatening, both words and actions carrying that certain chill that would make anyone second guess crossing you. While Peter would dance around them to avoid proper confrontation, going for silly jokes and sarcastic quips to mask any nervousness he would sometimes feel.

You're one hell of a powerful, strong woman and that's without any enhancements or superpowers involved.

While Peter…well, he's just your dorky, other times clumsy, friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.

As he said, you were way, way, way out of his league.

So he really couldn't do much but admire you from afar—or up close, but discreetly—until he would grow the extra set of balls needed to actually do something about his feelings for you, especially with the possible outcome of rejection.

He'd like to believe he'd grown quite a bit of confidence after entering college. It was a slow progress but he did manage to break out of his shell. With the number of parties Harry Osborn had managed to drag him into, how could he not? He was quite glad that now, he was able to talk to pretty girls without much stuttering and blushing involved.

But somehow when it was you in front of him, he would suddenly revert to his old high school self again. His cheeks would either be red or pink, barely able to get his words out as he would sometimes stare at you for longer than he should, all awestruck and dazed with admiration.

Peter's point was painfully proven right once again when he saw you down the hallway.

You were wearing black leggings and a black tank top along with your favorite running shoes. It was your usual getup whenever you would train or workout. Yet no matter how many times Peter had seen you in them before, it never failed to make his heart skip a beat. It was nothing fancy at all, but God did it look stunning on you.

It was mostly unconscious, and well, his rational brain did sometimes take a backseat when it comes to you. But his eyes drifted over your body, from your exposed shoulders to your collarbones, flitting momentarily on your chest, before they went to your legs, your tight leggings leaving so little to his imagination as they hugged your thighs. He tried to move his gaze back up to look at you more appropriately but simply got stuck on your hips. There was a slight sway in them as you walked—in slow motion, he was sure of it—with such confidence, and the way you held yourself with power and poise was breathtaking.

Shit. Did the AC malfunction? Why is it suddenly so hot—

"Hi, Pete."

Your voice snapped him out of his stupor. But your bright, beautiful eyes and your so-goddamn-pretty smile all while you stood right in front of him was more than enough to have him swooning again.

"H-Hey," he squeaked, painfully aware of how hot his cheeks had gotten. Add the fact that he hadn't been out under the sun much, he was sure you could see how pink it was. That knowledge alone probably made it a shade darker. Then came the fleeting thought that you might've caught him practically eyeing you up—

He quickly cleared his throat, keeping his head down to hide his blush as he opened the door to the conference room.

"After you."

"Thank you," you hummed, reaching a hand out to squeeze his arm before you moved past him.

It took a lot for his knees not to wobble at the gesture, even more, when he caught a whiff of your shampoo…or was that your perfume? But if you had just gone on a morning run and taken a shower—no, that wasn't your body wash. You didn't look like you'd just got out of the shower, so maybe it was just your scent. God, you always smell so nice.

"Holy—get your shit together man," he grumbled to himself, hastily wiping his sweaty hands on his jeans, fixing up his hair before entering the conference room.

It was relatively empty—well, the whole compound was given that the rest of the Avengers weren't at headquarters in the meantime, caught in other obligations whether personal or otherwise. The only other person in the room was Wanda, sitting across from you.

"Pete," you called, tapping the chair beside you before he could even choose a seat to take. There were plenty of vacant ones. Trying to calm his raging heart, he walked over to your side and sat down. But each beat only grew faster when you tilted your head at him with a smile. "Did you go on a run this morning?"

"Oh—uh, no, not yet," he said, trying his best to keep his eyes on yours rather than let them wander, like…down your lips. Shrugging to seem unbothered, he added, "FRIDAY announced the meeting just when I woke up."

"I haven't either," you hummed. So, it was just your scent earlier, the same one that was filling up his nostrils now as you leaned a little closer to him. "Maybe we can go—"

"Another day, another robbery," Sam cut you off as he and Bucky entered the room.

You moved away from him then, leaning back on your seat, attention now on the captain. An unconscious frown made its way onto his lips, because yes, he was slightly—greatly—annoyed at the interruption.

"Only this time, it calls for a national emergency," Bucky added, taking the seat next to Wanda.

"Global, if we don't stop it in time," Sam sighed, connecting a flash drive to one of the USB ports installed on the table.

"Oh no, did they steal the president's nudes?" Peter joked, immediately shrinking in his seat when the two men shot him a look. "Sorry, sorry, bad joke and definitely not the time—I'll shut up."

"That was funny," you whispered, flashing him a smile and Peter's face immediately burned. He wasn't given much time to respond when Sam cleared his throat.

"As much as that would be horrifying, it's something much worse." He pressed a button on the table that made the hologram come to life. There was only one item shown, a rectangular, gold-colored device, probably the size of a credit card but thicker by half an inch. Sam pointed at it and said, "The Gold Codes."

"The Gold Codes?" Peter muttered, brows furrowed in confusion.

"The president's nuclear launch codes," you answered, always willing to help him out on things he wasn't too well versed on.

"Oh." Peter nodded, smiling at you appreciatively before his face fell, eyes widening in realization. "Oh. That's definitely worse than his nudes."

You laughed, and it made Peter's heart do flips.

"And of course, its partner, the nuclear football. But instead of it being a whole briefcase, it's been reduced to this—" Sam flicked through the hologram, a black device coming up beside the gold codes. It looked like a plain external hard drive, roughly the same size as a pocketbook. It wasn't that big so it was definitely easy to carry around and, by the looks of it, easier to steal.

"Technology advancing sometimes isn't the best," Bucky grumbled.

You sat straighter in your seat, forearms resting on the table as you eyed the devices. There was a furrow between your brows, lips pursed as you tilted your head.

Peter couldn't stop his smile.

He always found your thinking face adorable.

You turned to Sam after a moment and asked, "Don't they change the codes every day?"

"Yes, but as our hundred-year-old resident said, technology is advancing so the card automatically syncs up to any changes made," Sam explained.

"That's the stupidest thing ever," Wanda scoffed.

Peter nodded in agreement. "Why did these even get stolen in the first place?"

"The one who was carrying the nuclear football was a double agent," Bucky said.

"Classic," you scoffed. "And have we found where it is?"

Sam nodded at Bucky, the super soldier rummaging around a bag that Peter just noticed he brought with them. He slid across a black envelope with gold detailing, your brows furrowing as you took it in your hand.

"Oh wow, an invitation to a charity gala tonight at The Aces," you gushed, scanning through the glossy, black paper before you turned to look at Peter. You probably saw the confused look he wore because you offered him a sweet smile before explaining, "It's one of the fanciest ballrooms in New York, most of the galas they hold are very exclusive for the rich and the rich-rich, like filthy 'I can end world hunger but I'm an asshole so I won't' rich."

"Thanks," Peter hummed, smiling.

"I got you." You bumped his shoulder with a wink, which quickly made him blush.

"But it's a smokescreen," Sam continued. "The real party happens later in the night."

"That's what she said," Bucky interrupted enthusiastically, earning a heavy eye roll from Sam and laughs from you and Wanda. The technically old man looked around the room. "What? Did I say the joke wrong?"

"You got the spirit," Peter chuckled.

"As I was saying, they're holding a black market auction later in the night in the small underground theater a floor beneath the building." Sam continued, swiping up the hologram until it showed a floorplan of a theater along with a couple of photos of high-tech armor, guns, and a whole bunch of things Peter couldn't exactly name. What stood out the most to him, though, was the logos: Stark Industries, Oscorp, Pym Technologies, Sable International, and the likes. "Stolen technology and weapons being sold to anyone who has the money to buy them."

"So, it's like the dark web, but fancier," Wanda quipped.

"Stealing items and then selling them to the highest bidder," Peter hummed. "Sounds like the British."

You snorted, quickly covering your mouth when everyone turned to you with raised brows.

"Sorry," you mumbled, kicking him under the table playfully, probably as a warning to stop making you laugh. Peter only grinned proudly in response. He always felt proud whenever he made you laugh.

"Anyway, the nuclear football is easier to find. It's locked in a room along with the other items they're planning on selling," Sam started, flicking through the hologram to show a floor plan of the whole building. He circled the large room in the middle before tracing a pathway leading up to another, much smaller room. "It's located on the east wing, right side of the main ballroom. It has double doors so you wouldn't miss it, especially with the armed guards."

"And the card?" Peter asked.

"Would be much more difficult to retrieve. It's going to be with the person who orchestrated this whole thing. The problem is—"

"You don't know who it is," you finished.

Sam nodded grimly. "Whoever is the mastermind of this grand scheme has been quite good at maintaining anonymity. The only time they're going to reveal themselves, along with the codes, is during the secret auction, which you can't get into unless you're chosen to be there."

"If you think the gala was exclusive, the auction is on a different scale," Bucky explained.

"We don't know what code or secret handshake will be needed to be able to attend the auction. Our best course of action is to attend the gala, scope the scene, and hopefully, get intel on how to join the auction without much breaking and entering involved," Sam said. "I had Harley tap into the security system of the building and guess what?"

"You found an even bigger problem," you and Peter said at the same time.

Sam nodded. "The whole building is now armed with sensors fit to detect every single Avenger's superpower, any Stark-grade weapons and also, vibranium. Bucky's metal arm, Wanda's magic, my wings, so on and so forth. Neither of us could simply swoop in because the second those silent sensors go off, or any commotion will start, poof goes the codes along with our criminal."

Bucky shifted in his seat. "Even if we discard all of that and try not to use it, going in there as, quote-on-quote civilians won't work either because—"

"Everyone would immediately recognize who we are," Wanda finished.

"Since there are only two people here whose faces aren't known publicly"—Sam looked between the two of you—"Peter and Y/N, you two are going to be the ones to retrieve the codes and the football."

"W-What?" Peter choked, eyes wide as he stared at the captain. "Don't they have my powers in the sensors?"

"They only have it for your web shooters and suit, and as far as I know, both are detachable."

"But that's me, that's how I operate," he stammered. Going out there as himself wasn't part of his skill set. He'd feel too exposed without his suit. Not to mention he was going with you. Which of course wasn't a bad thing at all but it only added this pressure to not mess things up. He couldn't live with himself if he'd fail this mission, fail you—or worse, have you get hurt because he wasn't capable enough. "How am I supposed to be Spider-Man without those?"

"You have to give yourself more credit, Pete," you said, placing your hand over his own, the one resting on his thigh. Peter's eyes followed your touch before he met your gaze again, his blush prominent, heart thumping so loud he was scared you might hear it. "You're more than just a suit. And you need to remember how you've managed to make your synthetic web in the first place. So I'm sure you'll do fine with your brain alone. Even then, you still have other abilities, and you have me."

Peter looked at you fondly, a smile curling on his lips as he turned his hand so your palm was over his, squeezing it to silently say thank you. He wasn't even aware of what he was doing, not until he saw your smile turn slightly shy. It was the quick glimmer in your eyes that made him realize he was absentmindedly stroking the back of your hand with his thumb.

"Seconded." Wanda smiled at the two of you, chuckling when you and Peter jumped slightly away from each other. You pulled your hand away, Peter frowning at the loss of contact. But he shook his head, turning his focus back on the mission.

"Y/N here also said you'd gotten really good at your hand-to-hand combat skills," Bucky said, an all-knowing smile on his face as he glanced between you two. "So, I don't think you'd need your web shooters as much if ever it comes to a fight."

"Which we hope won't result in that," Sam quickly added with a reassuring nod. "The plan is simple: scope and mingle, assess the scene, try and get some information as to how to get into the auction. Once you've done that, sneak into the vault to retrieve the nuclear football. I've already assigned Harley to make a duplicate device to swap with the real one so it won't trigger the alarm.

"Then, you sit at the auction and wait until the codes come up. I'm sure it will be presented by the anonymous seller so by then, we will be able to put a face on the mastermind. Our agents should already be blocking every single exit of the building by that time so all you have to do is to retrieve the code calmly. Try and ease your way into the main stage, charm and persuade, or whichever way works. Any more questions?"

You and Peter looked at each other, before you both turned to Sam, shaking your heads.

"Good. We've already set your fake identities up, google searches running for miles, the last thing we need are photos, together, individually, candid and professional which would only take a few minutes. Your fake names are already on the guest list, your outfits and everything else you need will be waiting for you at the hotel you're getting ready at as part of the whole ruse," he instructed. "You two are the best and only shot we've got in this. Plan your moves wisely and rely on each other. We can't afford to lose those codes."

"Yes, Captain."

•••

The hotel suite was fancy.

Peter had never been in one this expensive-looking before.

It had its own living room, a minibar, a huge bathroom, a king-size bed, and then a massive window that overlooked New York City. He definitely indulged himself with their complimentary champagne, and given the fact that he couldn't get drunk, he mostly did it for the taste—which was flavored expensive, to those wondering. Hell, even the chocolate they had tasted expensive.

Then again, the two of you were undercover as a rich, engaged couple so it was part of the whole thing. You never know whose eyes and ears were for who in these types of missions.

But still, it was quite the treat and he'd be stupid not to make the most of it—without getting too distracted, of course.

Peter was now all suited up, not in spandex this time. It was a crisp, black, formal suit made with fabric he wouldn't dare guess the cost and a brand he couldn't even begin to pronounce. He had a white dress shirt underneath, paired with a black tie. The one he was currently having a hard time doing as he stood in front of the floor-length mirror in the living room.

He groaned in frustration when he once again messed it up. He didn't wear this kind of clothes often, so he really didn't have much of a reason to learn to master the art of…tying?

"Need help?"

Peter turned around, the breath knocked out of him once he saw you come out of the bedroom.

Wow.

Oh wow you looked gorgeous in red.

It was an off-shoulder, long-sleeved dress, your arms covered in lace as the fabric hugged your figure. The skirt was long as it fanned onto the floor with a really high slit on your right leg to show off the silver heels you were wearing. Your hair and make-up were done to marry the whole style, all while enhancing your natural features rather than covering them. Your red-painted lips though—

"Wow."

"Yeah," you laughed softly, your gaze falling over yourself as your hands smoothed the fabric of your dress. "I don't know who picked it but it's really pretty and it fits really nicely. Perks of having body scans for our suits, I suppose."

"You look beautiful," Peter breathed out, still frozen in his place as he stared at you in absolute awe.

"Thank you," you said, your sweet smile turning into a smirk as you eyed him up and down with a nod. "You clean up nice, too, Parker."

"Oh—uhm, t-thanks." He blushed, shaking his head before gesturing both hands at you. "But you, I—wow, you look, wow."

"Shut up," you laughed, your dress flowing as you moved closer to him. "Here, let me."

Peter wasn't even given much time to recompose himself when you once again took his breath away by simply standing so close to him. Every inhale was just filled with your scent, his heart skipping a few beats as he scanned your face, only a couple inches from his and God did you look even more beautiful up close.

His blush deepened when you reached for his tie, your brows furrowed in that adorable way he'd come to familiarize as you slowly did it for him.

Peter honestly didn't know what to do with his hands, yet there was some sort of pull that he couldn't resist, like an instinct as he gently rested them on your waist. He was distracted by how close you were, but not enough to miss the way your breath hitched at the contact. Testing the waters, he squeezed it gently, biting his cheek to stop his smile from growing when he saw your fingers falter.

But oh did the pride bubble in his chest.

You shook your head, finishing up his tie with a smile. It was Peter's breath that hitched this time when you smoothed it over his chest, your palms flat against the muscle, touch so sweet, skin so warm. You looked up, your smile faltering when your eyes met his.

He didn't know how long you stared at each other. He also didn't know who moved a little closer first, but he definitely wasn't complaining. Not when he was so close that he could count exactly how many eyelashes you had. And he gladly would've if your voice hadn't snapped him out of the trance that nobody could ever put him under but you.

"We should get going," you whispered, but you still lingered for a few more seconds, more than enough for his brain to run its course, thinking that maybe, his feelings for you weren't as unrequited as he thought.

It was the sound of a beeping alarm that broke you two apart.

"Come on, we can't be late," you said after a breath, flashing him a sweet smile before going to grab your things.

"Wait," he cleared his throat, patting around his pockets before finally retrieving a velvet box. You turned around just as he'd opened it, showing you the ring that resided inside.

Your eyes widened, lips opening and closing as you gawked at the sparkling diamond for a few seconds before you met his gaze. "Peter—"

"Oh shit! It's not what it looks like!" he panicked.

Peter did always find himself daydreaming about you often, and he would be lying if he said he hadn't already pictured something similar to this moment. But even he could recognize how many steps he'd basically jumped over by showing you a diamond ring. And as much as he would love to fast-forward to that part, he'd also like to take you out on a date first. Well, if he'd even get the courage to ask you that, anyway.

"I-uh, you know, us, covering as an engaged couple? So, of course, uhm, you'll need an engagement ring?"

"O-Oh," you fumbled, nodding quickly before you offered him your left hand. "Yeah, of course."

Peter took it in his delicately, fingers running over your knuckles before he carefully slipped the ring on. Squeezing your hand, he reluctantly let go.

"Did you pick this?" you asked, bringing your hand up to your face, fingers wiggling as you admired the ring.

Peter nodded. "Yeah, I did—well, Bucky helped."

"It's beautiful."

"It looks even more beautiful on you."

Your eyes snapped up to look at him, your smile growing as you hummed, "Charmer."

"It's the expensive suit." He shrugged, a teasing grin with a blush to match.

You laughed that lovely laugh of yours, adoration and pride swelling in his chest.

"Oh, Harley asked me to give you this," you said after a moment, pulling out a familiar pair of glasses before handing it to him. "He said it's all you need to do your magic."

"Nah, it's just a little tool kit I put together, really, kinda like a small computer so nothing magical about it," he chuckled, waving the glasses before putting them on. "It's carbon-based nanotech, passable through metal detectors. I've managed to look up what security system they had installed in the safe and there's sort of a minicomputer inside so it should be easy to bypass the system. I already have the program in here that would run through all the probable security codes so all I need to do is activate the glasses and it would automatically unscrew everything and connect to a hopefully pre-existing female micro-USB slot with the male counterpart in this old thing and—" he paused, face heating up as you gazed at him with a twinkle in your eyes. "What?"

"Nothing, just—you're amazing," you sighed, smile widening before you nodded. "Let's go?"

Peter ignored that way his whole body tingled at your praise and offered you his arm.

Not like it was a new reaction whenever he was around you, anyway.

"Let's."

•••

"Mr. Reid, the car is already waiting for you."

That was the first sentence Peter heard when you reached the hotel lobby. He looked behind him before looking at the man in a suit, pointing at himself in confusion.

"I'm not—"

"Lucas, honey, come on," you cut him off, slipping your fingers in his. You flashed him a knowing smile, squeezing his hand before you tugged him along as you followed the guy.

Right. Fake identities.

"Woah." Peter gawked at the car in front of him, leaning closer to you as he whispered, "Is that a Rolls Royce? Like, the new one?"

"Sort of. It's the Phantom Extended." You nodded with an amused smile. "The best way to blend in with the rich, don't you think?"

Peter was about to open the door for you but then the butler—at least, he assumed that was who he was—beat him to it. So, he opted on helping you with your dress instead, making sure it didn't get caught on anything as you settled inside.

"Thank you, my love," you giggled.

My love.

Peter luckily didn't slip on the expensive lambswool floor mat as he got into his seat.

It's pretend. Get a grip.

Once the car started moving, you pressed a button on the center console, the clear glass that separated the front and back immediately turning into an opaque white, completely secluding the two of you from the driver. He looked at you curiously, nervous—okay, and maybe a bit excited—as to why you decided you suddenly needed privacy. Peter had heard a lot of stories about what goes on in the rear cabin of expensive cars, especially with the partition up, so could it be—

"Did you get to read about our fake identities? The one Sam sent?"

Thinking with the wrong head again, aren't we, Parker?

"I, uhm, no, got too preoccupied with the ring and getting dressed," he admitted, looking at you guiltily. The mission had barely started and he was already messing it up. "I'm sorry."

"Hey, no, it's okay," you reassured with a smile, hand on his thigh, squeezing for good measure. He wasn't able to relish in the warmth of your touch for long as you shifted in your seat, turning around to face him. "I mean, everything is very last minute. I'll just tell you about it.

"Lucas Reid, the young 26-year-old and dashing CEO of Reid Enterprises. You inherited the company at nineteen when your father died of illness," you started.

Peter scrunched his nose. "So, basically, I'm a trust fund baby?"

"Sort of, but you do prove that you did the work," you said. "Company sales skyrocketed when you took the seat."

"What about you?" Peter gestured at your ring, blushing. "Well, apart from being my fiancée."

"I run my own fashion company." You shrugged, winking at him as you added, "Can't be living in my future husband's shadow now, can we?"

Future husband.

God how Peter wished for that to be true.

He shook his head, hands rubbing on his thighs. "Do we have a backstory? Like, as a couple?"

"Not much. Five years ago, we met in Milan during fashion week—"

"Let me guess, sparks flew right off the bat?" he chuckled.

"Love at first sight, obviously," you scoffed, rolling your eyes teasingly.

Not too far off from reality.

"Besides that, it's all the basics from there. Dates, extravagant gifts, and then two months ago, you proposed."

"Right," he started, bumping your knee with his lightly. "So, when's the wedding?"

You laughed, "We're not sure yet. Too busy."

"Of course," Peter sighed, rolling his eyes playfully. "Can't get me out of my office, now can you?"

"I have my ways," you hummed, wiggling your brows at him.

Peter was so sure his face had gone so red.

"You always do," he chuckled shyly, shaking his head before smiling at you. "Can we go over the plan real quick?"

You smiled. "Of course."

Peter knew what to do, obviously. He'd already gone over the plan probably a hundred times in his head. But he simply wanted to make sure he wasn't missing anything, especially something that could potentially jeopardize the whole mission. He couldn't afford even one single misstep, not when you and your safety could be put at risk—and the millions around the world that would suffer if those weapons got into the wrong hand, of course.

"We're almost there," you said once you've gone over the plans twice, eyes scanning across the windows. "It's just on the next turn."

Peter's heart quickened.

He didn't even notice that his emotions had gone evident on his face. Not until you squeezed his arm.

"You okay?" you asked, brows furrowed in concern.

"Yeah! Yeah, of course," he said quite unconvincingly. It was when he heard the ticking of the turn signal did his nerves shift to overdrive, his eyes wide as they met yours. "Shit, I don't think I can do this. I mean, I'm not usually out there with my face showing, you know? And I'm so so so not James Bond, I'm the farthest from James Bond I'm like, Lame Bond. I'm not smooth o-or charming or suave enough to be a spy—oh no. No, no, no, what if they find me out right away? I'm going to mess everything up and this is going to go horribly wrong and—"

"Hey!" you interjected, hands cupping his face, squishing his cheeks slightly as you pulled him closer, eyes boring into his with determination. Peter didn't know if it was the proximity that shut him up, or if it was your scent that overpowered his senses—probably both. "You're going to be fine. You've got this."

He gulped, nodding before letting out a shaky breath.

You smiled reassuringly, thumbs brushing over his cheeks, his skin turning redder with each caress. "Be observant, you don't have to talk. With this kind of crowd, trust me, the quiet ones are the most intimidating. If there's anything you feel like it's a bit off, trust your gut, and let me know, okay?"

"Okay," he breathed out, nuzzling into your palm absentmindedly, finding a sense of comfort from your warm touch.

"And if it gets overwhelming, just follow my lead."

•••

Peter got out of the car, nodding curtly with a tightlipped smile at the driver who opened the door for him.

He decided at the last minute that Lucas Reid was going to be a stoic, passively quiet CEO with a resting 'serious' face that only means business.

Peter straightened up his suit before he offered you his hand, the huge rock on your finger glinting underneath the city lights as your palm met his.

He gently guided you out of the car, helping you fix up your dress before offering you his arm. Your fingers curled around his bicep as you kissed his cheek with a soft thanks. Peter smiled at you warmly, pulling you closer to his side as you made your way inside the building.

Stoic and passive except towards his lovely fiancée, of course.

He might or might not have stumbled upon a few Mobster Spider-Man fanfictions on some website not too long ago. And he might or might not have taken some inspiration from it.

"Please take a basket to put your phones and any other electronic devices in and step under the detectors one by one," one guard instructed.

Adjusting his glasses, he pulled out his newly upgraded phone. It was sponsored by the Avengers obviously since he couldn't exactly rock up with his old, cracked one, with him being rich and everything. He smiled at the lock screen photo—it was of you and him, your lips pressed against his cheek, taken just a couple of hours ago to have photos to make this engaged couple gimmick believable—before he placed it in the basket you were holding up for him.

You smiled reassuringly before you stepped under the metal detector first, Peter following just closely after.

He let out a nervous breath when he saw how heavily armed the guards were. A variation of M17s and a couple of AK-47s were in the hands of fully uniformed men from head to toe. They look like your typical SWAT team, but Peter knew they were more dangerous than that, especially when their morals were as corrupted as he'd presumed.

He was an enhanced superhero, yes, but he sure as hell wasn't bulletproof. And as much as he could probably dodge a few shots, he would rather not take the gamble of finding out exactly how many he could avoid.

That wasn't what he was worried about, though. Because as he felt your fingers slip back into his, he was reminded of how vulnerable and defenseless you were. No superpowers, no bulletproof vests, still an amazing badass who without a doubt could take on two guys in a fight and win, but still a human who could get badly hurt by a simple pull of a trigger.

There were only so many bullets he could jump in front of you for.

"We're going to be fine," you whispered, squeezing his hand as if you could sense his worry. "I got your six."

Peter squeezed back. "And I've got yours."

The two of you stayed close to each other, arms linked as you headed towards the ballroom. But once the huge archway came into sight, you leaned closer to him.

"You go ahead," you whispered in his ear, squeezing his bicep. "I need to go to the bathroom."

Peter nodded.

He knew that some agents had already hidden some of your equipment hours before. Well, he hoped they successfully did, anyway. If not, then, you both might have to compromise.

Peter didn't know what exactly he was expecting when he entered the ballroom but it definitely wasn't as fancy as this.

The ballroom was grandiose in itself with its ornate marble columns and crown moldings, complementing the beautifully impressive murals that covered the ceilings. Even the red curtains that draped along the walls seemed far too luxurious for the mere fact that they were curtains for crying out loud.

Peter had never seen so many chandeliers hanging all in one space, not to mention, ones that seemed to be decked out in gold and crystals…or were those diamonds?

Everything was decorated with a color scheme of cream, black, silver, and gold, from the round tables and accompanying chairs. To contrast were various glass structures illuminated by some kind of light as they glinted and shimmered even from the corner of his eye. There was an open bar in one corner, a long table of finger foods and various desserts, and live music coming from the string quartet on a rotating, circular stage right in the center of a—is that an indoor fountain?

"Wow," you gasped as you appeared beside him, your eyes twinkling underneath the chandeliers. "It's gorgeous."

"Yeah," Peter sighed, eyes trained on the way your face glowed in awe as you admired the space. "Gorgeous."

Your smile brightened as you tilted your head, gaze meeting his. Then, your brows furrowed, stepping in front of him and eyeing the top of his head. "Come here. I need to fix up your hair."

Peter ducked his head without question, hands around your waist as he let you settle the mess of his windswept curls. He found the furrow of your brows absolutely adorable, but the way your tongue slightly poked out of your red lips made him want to just pull you in and kiss you senseless.

You tucked a few short strands behind his ear, gently pressing your thumb into his concha, the earpiece fitting snugly before he heard a faint crackle and then a deep voice.

"Parker, can you hear me?"

"Aye, aye, Captain," he muttered.

He heard a few snickers in the background followed by Sam scoffing sarcastically.

"My, aren't you two cute."

Peter's brows furrowed, confused eyes meeting yours. "What does he mean?"

"I answered the same way," you giggled, shrugging as you smoothed over his tie and buttoned up his suit jacket.

Peter's heart fluttered at that.

"We'll be on the line listening. Be discreet. Only communicate what's necessary."

You and Peter shot each other a look, grins widening into a knowing smirk.

"Aye, aye, Captain."

"Jesus Christ."

The line went quiet, presumably Sam muting their end until further notice.

Peter shook his head, chuckling before turning to you. "So, what now?"

"Scope," you said, waving back at a random woman who was making their way over to you both. You turned to him with a smile. "And mingle."

•••

Peter was so far out of his element.

He was already a terrible liar when under pressure, stuttering and blubbering until he would end up telling the truth. And that was around people he got along with.

Now how was he supposed to make small talk with the rich all while pretending to be rich himself when he clearly was not?

His best course of action? He didn't talk.

It fit well with the persona he'd created, anyway.

He was mostly following your advice—well, more like literally following you around. He was like your trophy fiancé in some way, and honestly, Peter wasn't opposed to it.

You were taking charge, and all he had to do was scope the scene, nod and smile whenever he was acknowledged while mostly speaking only to you.

From an outsider's point of view, he probably looked like such a puppy for his girl, only meeting your eyes, hovering by your side, his attention and touch always on you. A hand on the small of your back, an arm around your waist as he hung onto every word that slipped past your beautiful red-painted lips. For them, he was simply a man completely enamored by his soon-to-be wife. So it definitely sold this whole fiancé gimmick you two got going on.

Then again, it wasn't like he had to pretend that much, either. It wasn't hard to act all smitten with you because he already was. And, okay, he was playing it up a little. Peter would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy acting like you were his and he was yours, even if it was only for a mission.

Other than that, he also quite enjoyed indulging in the food and beverages that were paraded around by the waiters. It tasted so good, so obviously made with high-quality and expensive ingredients, but most importantly free. Could you blame him for taking advantage of it?

He was being an opportunist, he was well aware, which was why he didn't think much about downing the very tasty champagnes they offered, especially when he was free from any consequence that the drink brought—well, one of the consequences.

Because as much as he was immune to the buzz of the alcohol, he couldn't say the same for the effects it brought on his bladder.

It didn't really expand when his abilities got enhanced.

With how utterly gorgeous you looked tonight, it shouldn't have surprised him that the second he left your side, some men in this gala would take his absence as an opportunity to make a move.

He might've been acting like a guard dog, he admits, glaring at anyone who dared to glance at you wrongly. You were "his fiancée" after all, he was simply playing the part of your possessive protective husband-to-be.

That was what he told himself, anyway.

But still, when he came back after his little bathroom break, Peter wasn't too keen on what he saw.

You were talking to some dark-haired man wearing a bold, fully gold-colored suit and an even bolder beard. He didn't look old, but he didn't exactly look young, either. Or perhaps his facial hair played a part in that regard. He was—as much as he hated to say it—well-built and good-looking. If Peter was to guess, he was probably in his early 30s.

The interaction looked innocent enough, and Peter wouldn't have found it a big deal if this guy wasn't eyeing you up like you were a piece of meat.

"Amelia Devonché," the man greeted, his French accent thick, his flirtatious tone, even thicker.

So that's your fake name.

"The one and only," you said, smiling as you tilted your head. "Although I don't think we've been introduced."

"Halbert Auclair," he said, bowing as he held out an open palm.

Halbert? What kind of name is that?

"Pleasure to meet you," you hummed, slipping your hand into his.

"Pleasure's all mine. You look quite lovely tonight, mademoiselle," he crooned, bringing the back of your hand to his lips and kissing your knuckles.

Peter's jaw clenched, an intensely heated emotion boiling his blood, only relaxing slightly when he heard your fake giggle.

He'd heard your real one enough to differentiate the two.

"Why, thank you, monsieur."

Clouded by his emotions, Peter took long strides towards you, swiftly wrapping a possessive arm around your waist and pulling you to his side, kissing your temple and then, without thought, near the corner of your mouth.

Your eyes snapped to meet his, a fleeting look of surprise on your features before you quickly masked it with a smile. "This is my fiancé—"

"Lucas Reid, one of the youngest yet richest CEOs here today," Halbert interjected, offering his hand out to shake.

"Hmm," Peter said with a curt nod, his grip a little tighter when he shook it.

"Man with few words, I see," Halbert chuckled dryly, flexing his fingers once they were free from his hold.

Peter bit his cheek to stop a smirk, pushing his glasses up before slipping his hand into his pocket, looking at you with a much more relaxed smile.

"My fiancé isn't great with crowds. Always stuck in his office, he is. The only thing in his mind is the business, and well, me," you gushed, resting your left hand on his chest, tilting your head to flash him a smile. "Am I right, handsome?"

"Very much so, darling," Peter said, unaware of how his voice sounded. He was still running on jealousy that he couldn't help but gently take your hand from his chest, bringing the back of it to his lips and then kissing the diamond ring on your finger. He smiled at you sweetly as he ran his thumb over your knuckles. "You still owe me a dance, my love."

You blinked a few times, lips parting before you shook your head with a soft laugh, "Oh, yes! How can I forget."

"Have a lovely night, madem—"

Peter didn't even wait for him to finish his sentence as he gently ushered you towards the dance floor, just in time for the string quartet to play their version of Quando, Quando, Quando.

So…he didn't quite think this through.

Peter had no idea how to dance.

His boiling jealousy was quickly replaced with nervousness and dread as you guided his hands, one on your waist, the other curled around yours.

You were so blatantly staring at him that his nerves could only grow tenfold. It was only a matter of time before you realized just how jealous he acted. Hell, he only just realized it after the emotion had left his system. And despite avoiding your eyes, he could still sense it, how you were trying to figure out why he'd done what he just did.

Peter cleared his throat, "Something wrong?"

"Are you okay?" you countered, placing your hand on his shoulder before moving to the music.

He didn't know if he should be thankful or slightly embarrassed that you were the one leading the dance. But then again, there probably would never be a time when Peter wouldn't follow your lead—dancing or otherwise.

He'd follow you to the ends of the earth if he could.

It was working, though, bodies synchronously swaying to the sound of strings as if you'd done this plenty of times before. It was either a testament to how good you were at basically everything—a quick learner, a leader, a teacher and hell, a dancer—or just how well you two complemented each other.

Peter believed it was both.

"Yeah," Peter chuckled timidly, eyes trained on the ground to avoid your eyes and to make sure he wouldn't step on your foot. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"You just seemed…" you paused, hand squeezing his shoulder lightly. "Angry."

Peter blushed.

Jealous. Not angry.

"I'm not," he brushed off, shaking his head. "Got nothing to be angry about."

"Right," you hummed, and it sounded like you didn't believe him at all.

"Did I mess up?" Peter sighed, worried eyes finally meeting your curious ones.

"What? No. You just came off as quiet which isn't a big deal," you reassured, smile widening with amusement. "Where did that South London accent come from, though?"

"Wait." Peter blinked, frowning. "I did an accent?"

"Yeah, you did," you laughed. "Which I didn’t even know you could do."

"I guess I was too nervous to even realize," he admitted, chuckling. "I've been binge-watching The Great British Bake Off lately, maybe I just picked it up."

"So nervousness makes you do accents," you hummed, smiling. "Interesting."

"What?" He narrowed his eyes at you teasingly. "Don't tell me you like a British accent too, like, half the world apparently."

"It's cute," you admitted with a shrug. "But I like your accent more."

Peter blinked. "Really?"

"Yeah, I like the kid from Queens," you said nonchalantly.

Peter almost stepped on your foot. If you weren't a trained spy with quite good reflexes, you might've gone home with a bruised toe.

You shook your head, giggling as you pulled him back to the rhythm of the dance. "You're going to have to keep the charade if you speak to other people, now, though"

"Yeah, didn't really think about that." Peter scrunched up his face, clearing his throat before he looked at you shyly. "I really don't dance."

"Well, you're doing great so far," you hummed, pulling him closer as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

Peter secured his on your waist then, both of you gliding across the dance floor to the symphony of the strings as you held each other's gaze. It was impressive, really, that this was the first time you both danced together, but danced like two spiders spinning their silks in a synchronized choreography to create a large heart-shaped web.

Then, he felt bold, confident.

He didn't know if it was from that same pull from earlier tonight, his senses being muddled by your overpowering presence, your warm body pressed so close against him, or the sweet lure of the music that added something to the air.

Perhaps it was everything all at once.

But Peter couldn't help but lean even closer, the tips of your noses just a hair's breadth away.

"You are so beautiful," he whispered, his gaze fluttering across your face before meeting your eyes.

Peter reveled in the way your smile got shy.

"You've said that already."

"Once will never be enough."

You shook your head with a giggle, eyes twinkling, "And you said you aren't smooth."

"Like I said," he started, lowering his voice, shrugging with a teasing grin, "It's the expensive suit."

Peter's heart warmed at your sweet laugh, that certain pull growing stronger at the lovely sound. He dipped his head, noses touching before he pressed his forehead against yours. He squeezed your waist when your breath hitched, warm and inviting as it tickled his lips, tempting, oh so close—

"Ahem."

You both jerked back, eyes wide with surprise.

"Sam! You've ruined it!" Peter heard Wanda hiss through the earpiece.

"He was finally getting somewhere!" And that was Harley.

Peter's whole face grew hot with embarrassment, squeezing your waist, still keeping you close as he looked away.

He completely forgot about the comms being live and open to everyone back at the compound.

Then again, all of them had been suspiciously quiet until now.

"Well, damn, I'm sorry? But this is an important mission, not a radio drama?"

"You just had to cockblock—"

"I'm surprised you even know what that means, you white fossil—"

You cleared your throat, smiling at Peter shyly. "Any intel?"

"I think that French dude is our bad guy," he answered swiftly, ready to change the subject or else his knees might go out.

"Auclair?" You raised a brow at him with a smirk. "How so?"

Peter might sound like he had a vendetta against the guy who shamelessly flirted with you. But, he did have a few points to back his claim.

"It's kinda weird how quickly he knew about us. Unless he stole the guest list and researched every single one of the names or he's the host. Also, he really made a point in stating how rich I am. You only do that when you want money for the auction. And if that's not proof enough—" Peter pulled a black and silver playing card out of his pocket, the same one Halbert gave to him during the handshake. "Seven of hearts, well, kinda. It's more arrows than it is hearts. All of them are pointing downward no matter which way you turn it. Look—" He turned the card, an almost holographic effect as the arrows remained south. "That's not how normal playing cards are. So I assume it means downstairs to the secret auction. And we've got about an hour max until it's seven. And if that's not obvious enough—" Peter showed you the back, tilting it to the light to expose the words 'Big Toys, Bigger Guns' in the middle in gold lettering.

"Cheesy, but it works," he finished.

"That's a really good catch, wow," you praised, grinning proudly. "Someone's getting the hang of this already, huh?"

"Watching those James Bond movies finally paid off, I guess," he chuckled, nodding at you. "Plus, I got a good teacher."

You smiled. "Keep a careful eye on him," you instructed, snorting a little when he all but glared when he found the man. You squeezed his slightly tensed shoulders. "Subtlety."

"I don't think I need to be subtle because he keeps eyeing you like he stands a chance as if the rock on your finger isn't big enough. You're my fiancée. So me glaring at some guy with too much beard who looks at you far too long for comfort let alone appropriate isn't out of the ordinary," he grumbled, shaking his head. "Men are pigs I tell you."

"Someone's committed to the bit," you teased, smiling far too bright for it to be innocent. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're jealous."

Peter quickly snatched a champagne flute from the tray when a waiter walked past, handing it to you with a small curtsy.

"You look parched, my darling."

You rolled your eyes but took the glass anyway, your grin telling him that maybe you like the accent more than you were letting on.

But she likes your accent more.

Peter couldn't stop his heart from melting at the thought.

He was also glad that his distraction worked, his jealousy hopefully forgotten as he guided you toward the bar once the song finished.

"Door's unguarded," you murmured against the glass, sipping gingerly before you handed it back to him. "Stay here and keep an eye out. I'll find us a key."

Peter nodded, sitting on one of the stools as he carefully and deliberately followed your movement. Not that he thought you couldn't handle yourself, but an extra pair of eyes will always be better than none. Also, he was being observant of his surroundings, his enhanced senses helping in making sure there wasn't anything suspicious going on, keeping him on high alert in case he needed to jump in.

He watched with pride as you slyly stole a keycard from a gullible enough guard who was too distracted by your flirting. It was an impressively swift sleight of hand that if he wasn't paying attention enough, he would've missed it.

Still, Peter couldn't help but roll his eyes at how stupid and easy these guards tend to be, any focus and rational thought out the window all because of an alluring smirk, a teasing touch and a glimpse of skin—the simplest seduction from one gorgeous woman.

But then again, he wasn't exactly one to talk. Because as innocent as a bright smile from you, Peter would literally do anything you ask him to.

He was far too focused on you that he didn't even realize that someone had replaced your seat, not until he heard his name—well, the fake one.

"Lucas Reid."

Peter turned, eyes landing on a woman wearing a gold dress, curled, long hair framing a somewhat familiar face. Peter wasn't blind, he could see she was objectively pretty. But she simply could never hold a candle next to his gorgeous fiancée—fake or otherwise.

"Greta Auclair," she said with a smile, holding out her hand.

Peter didn't miss the flirtatious undertone in her actions. How could he when she was so adamant on fluttering her eyelashes at him, or the way she wasn't subtle at pushing up her chest, the low-cut top doing so little to hide…it? Them?

Not that he was looking. It was simply in his line of sight.

"Auclair," he hummed, shaking her hand briefly as he tried to make sure his accent didn't sound so forced. He honestly didn't know why he decided to make things harder for himself. "Any relation to Halbert?"

"Twin sister," she waved off, flipping her hair to one side.

Peter nodded without another word, attention swiftly shifting to search for you in the crowd.

"I must say, I've heard a lot of things about you," she hummed as she leaned forward, fingers curling around his bicep, gold-colored, manicured nails glinting underneath the light as she squeezed the muscle. "Apart from being a quiet man, of course."

Peter's resolve faltered a little, the gesture completely catching him off guard.

What's up with this family and overstepping personal space?

"Good things, I hope." He smiled tightly, crossing his arms over his chest, subtly shaking her hand off.

"Oh yes, very good things," she giggled, hand on his thigh as she leaned forward with a smirk. Winking, she added, "Naughty ones, too."

Peter gulped as he leaned back.

"O-Oh, uh—"

"Lucas."

He quickly spun around on his stool to the sound of your voice, facing you fully. His eyes widened in surprise as you gently nudged his knees apart but he didn't even hesitate to make room for you to stand in between. He placed his hands on your hips when you pulled him closer, your arms snaking around his neck.

Peter didn't know exactly what was going on, but he certainly wasn't complaining. Besides, like he said before, he would always follow your lead.

Yet still, he looked up at you in both curiosity and confusion, trying to gauge what was going through your mind. But you certainly were better at reading people than he was. Or perhaps that was you simply being a master at masking your emotions. Because apart from the slight edge on your smile, he was coming up empty.

"You must be Amelia," Greta interrupted.

Your grip on Peter's shoulder tightened, eyes rolling with a scowl before you turned to Greta with a forced smile. "Yes, hi."

Peter's brows raised at your uninterested tone, even more when you didn't even bother prolonging the conversation as you turned back to him, body leaning closer.

Interesting…

"Can you help me find the bathroom?" you purred, tone seductively sweet to match the implication of your words. You pressed your chest against his, faces only inches apart as your fingers played with the hairs on the nape of his neck.

Peter short circuited.

He merely stared at you in awe, blood growing hot, heart pumping erratically as his grip on your waist tightened.

Peter would be lying if he said he wasn't at the least bit turned on.

"Please?" you added with a pout when he didn't manage to speak for a good few seconds.

It was the slight pinch on his skin that snapped him out of it.

"Of course, my love," he said, clearing the lump in his throat as he hastily stood up.

Peter wasn't even given the time to get his bearings straight when you immediately took his hand in yours, pulling him away from the bar and down the hallway. He squinted at the sudden brightness of the ceiling lights, greatly illuminating the cream wallpaper with intricate gold-colored patterns, similar crown molding from those in the ballroom, and various paintings hanging on the walls for guests to admire. The space was obviously still for public access, but it was relatively empty.

Once you two were alone, you didn't bother hiding your emotions. And Peter could clearly tell that you were angry.

It was making him slightly nervous.

"Is everything okay?"

You ignored him.

Peter frowned when pulled your hand from his and put some distance between you. He watched as you tensely opened a metal door, entering in haste without looking back. He ran after you to avoid getting locked out, the two of you entering another much smaller hallway that could only fit one person at a time. It was more of a tunnel, to be honest.

He never liked it when you were upset, especially during a high-risk mission. But most of all, he hated disappointing you, and with the way you were acting, he could only assume he'd done something wrong.

Peter was hot on your tail, carefully watching your every sharp turn, just to make sure he wasn't going to lose you. Though, it wasn't long until you two emerged into a hallway that was similar to before.

You were staring straight ahead, heels clicking angrily as the skirt of your dress rapidly swished with every harsh step.

Oh you were pissed.

"Did I do something?"

"You shouldn't be distracted on the job," you said, tone clipped.

"But I wasn't distracted," he defended, his frown deepening.

"Flirting, distracted, same thing," you scoffed, rolling your eyes. "It's not the time to woo girls. This is not a frat party."

Flirting? Woo girls?

"But I wasn't flirt—wait," he paused, his smile breaking out as realization dawned on him.

He could be quite oblivious sometimes, but he was not dumb. This wasn't going over his head, not when the way you were acting looked far too familiar. He'd seen the same thing happen only a couple of minutes ago, after all.

Because you weren't angry.

Much like how he wasn't angry moments before your dance.

Peter stopped, looking at you carefully with arms crossed over his chest, smirking as he quoted your words,

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're jealous."

You halted in your tracks, shoulders straightening with a huff before you continued walking.

It told Peter everything he needed to know.

He couldn't wipe off his smirk, pride bubbling in his chest, confidence boosted that little bit more as he jogged after you.

"There's going to be two guards at the door," you instructed monotonously once he reached your side, eyes avoiding him. "I'll distract one. You take care of the other one."

Peter stood straighter with a salute, still grinning from ear to ear.

"Yes ma'am."

You rolled your eyes, but he didn't miss the way the corner of your lips quirked up.

•••

"Excuse me, ma'am, this area is restricted."

"Oh, dear! My apologies, is this not where the bathroom is?" you gasped, and Peter was impressed at how clueless you sounded. If he didn't know you beforehand, he never would've guessed that you'd be one of the most elite and smartest spies there ever was. "Would either of you fine gentlemen guide me to where it is?"

Peter heard the two guards grumble before one spoke up gruffly, "Go. I've got this covered,"

"Yay!" you giggled, clapping your hands excitedly. "Thank you so much!"

Peter couldn't stop his grin at how cute you were.

When you and the other guard were out of sight, Peter made a run for it. Guard Two only caught a split-second glimpse of him before his fist harshly connected with their jaw, wincing when he heard a faint crack.

"Sorry," Peter whispered with a grimace, standing straight and adjusting his glasses. "Didn't mean to hit that hard."

He quickly turned towards the sound of grunts and hisses, fists colliding against muscles and then a body falling onto the floor. He rushed towards where you disappeared, entering the hallway just in time to see you fixing up your dress. Your eyes met his when he walked over to you, your smile sweet yet proud.

"Need a lil help carrying this guy," you said, gesturing behind you.

He nodded with a chuckle, eyes trained on your face once he reached your side before his brows furrowed.

"You got a little—" Before he could think about it, he reached a hand up, thumb rubbing over the corner of your mouth, attempting to get rid of the smudged lipstick.

He couldn't help but stare, easily putting him in a trance as he smoothed his thumb over your bottom lip, pulling it away slightly before letting it plop back, your warm breath tickling his skin when your lips parted.

Your little outburst of jealousy earlier might've boosted his confidence a lot more than he'd initially let on.

"Peter," you murmured. "The guard."

"Oh! Right," he cleared his throat, moving over to the unconscious guard, hauling them over his shoulder effortlessly as if they weighed nothing. He walked over to the second guard, doing the same over his other shoulder. When he turned around, he saw you standing there, brow raised. He shrugged, smirking. "Super strength."

You shook your head, rolling your eyes, "Show off."

Peter laughed.

After carrying both guards into the room—unlocked thanks to their keycards and fingerprints—you busied yourself with their weapons.

Peter was looking through the various crates and boxes, all labeled with familiar and not-so-familiar logos, some in different languages, while others were completely blank. Some items weren't hidden at all, from high-tech guns in glass displays to alien guns in wooden crates, various iterations of vibranium shields, and holy shit, is that a Wakandan spear?

"Where the hell did they get all of these? This is so much ammo in one room—"

Peter's words died in his throat when his eyes landed on you.

You were leaning over, one foot resting on one of the boxes on the floor, your fingers grazing your leg as you carefully pulled your skirt up inch by tempting inch until your thigh was exposed to him. Your gun holster later came into view, the straps squeezing the supple flesh tightly and fuck—

Peter had never wanted to be an inanimate object so badly ever in his life.

He quickly averted his gaze when you pulled your skirt back down. He pretended to read the labels on some crates as he cleared his throat, tugging at the collar of his shirt because Jesus it's getting really hot in here.

"Take this," you said, walking over to him with your hand extended, your fingers curled around the barrel of a gun.

Peter's eyes widened as he looked at the gun and then at you. "We haven't gotten to this part of my training yet."

"Come on, you've seen some movies."

"Since when did movies become tutorials?"

You stared at him for a moment, shaking your head with a chuckle before holding up the gun before him to demonstrate.

"Safety on when you don't want to shoot, safety off when you want to shoot," you said, flicking the pin on the side of the gun. "Cock it only once. It's semi-automatic so after that, all you need is to pull the trigger for continuous shots. Grip with two hands, dominant hand tight around it, other hand on top. Don't try to be arrogant by holding it with only one, especially when you've never fired a gun in your life. Point and shoot, simple. Make sure you aim at the bad guy, though."

You took his hand and placed the gun in his palm, smiling at him sweetly as if you hadn't just given him a loaded weapon.

"Got it?"

Peter stared at you dumbfounded, gulping as he held it to his chest, "That's definitely not all there is to it when using a gun."

"Hey, don't worry," you said reassuringly, squeezing his shoulder. "It's just for precaution. You might not even need to use it."

Peter nodded with a sigh, staring at the gun in his hand before he slipped into the hem of his pants, snuggly kept there by his belt.

Rookie mistake.

"Make sure the safety is on before you put it there, wouldn't want an accident to happen."

Peter froze before he quickly pulled it out, aiming the barrel as far away from him as possible.

He groaned in utter embarrassment when you laughed.

"Can you just carry it for me?" he asked, pouting for good measure. "Please?"

"You're fine," you giggled, gesturing at your leg. "And I only have one thigh holster."

Yeah. I saw.

"I really don't want to shoot myself in the balls," he said, physically shuddering as he screwed his eyes shut. "And I think you're aware of how clumsy I get sometimes."

You laughed out loud, shaking your head as you moved back toward one of the unconscious guards. Peter watched you curiously as you started checking their suits, a faint 'aha!' leaving your lips before you started taking one of their jackets off.

Peter's brows shot up. "What are you—"

"Jacket off," you interjected, showing him a shoulder holster. He did as told as you walked back to him. You helped him slip the harness on, clicking buckles and adjusting the straps before taking his gun and slotting it in soon after. You tilted your head as you smooth it over him. "Better?"

"Much," he breathed out, smiling at you gratefully as he slipped his jacket back on. "Thanks."

You returned his grin, patting his chest before you went and looked for the safe.

Which didn't take too long.

"They could've at least made it inconspicuous, shit's too easy," you scoffed, gesturing at the safe that had a huge American flag on it, stars and eagles, too, as if it wasn't obvious enough. You looked at him with a knowing smile. "Do your magic."

Peter squatted in front of it, taking his glasses off and twisting the nose bridge. There was a soft whirring sound before the glasses turned into a mini, android spider.

Carbon-based nanotech will always impress him. Imperceptible to metal detectors all while never losing its function and durability.

"Of course it's a tiny spider," you muttered, delight laced in your tone.

"What?" He looked at you over his shoulder with a teasing pout, holding up the spider in his palm. "You don't like him?"

You purse your lips, shaking your head before meeting his eyes. "He's cute."

"And hopefully he works, too," he said, turning back to the safe before carefully placing the little guy on the keypad. It took a few moments for the mechanical spider to do its thing. Peter let out the breath he was holding when the safe opened without a hitch. He looked at you with a grin, gesturing at the device inside. "Voilà."

You scrunched up your face. "And that proves that you can't be good at everything."

"Hey!" he gasped. "It wasn't that bad."

"Just leave the French accent alone," you teased, though your eyes were shining with admiration. "But that brain of yours is definitely something else."

Peter blushed, waving your compliment off, "Nah, it's just—"

"Shut up, Parker," you scoffed playfully, but your smile was genuine. "You're incredibly smart and annoyingly amazing. It's not up for discussion."

"Thanks," he chuckled shyly, cheeks turning redder. He gestured at the nuclear football, before looking up at you. "You have the decoy, right?"

"Oh, right." You nodded, reaching into the neckline of your dress before you pulled the rectangular device out, showing it to him with a proud grin.

Peter stared at you, mouth agape.

"What?" you snorted, shaking your head at his surprised face. "I don't have pockets!"

"You could've asked me to carry it."

"I can't exactly bring you with me into the ladies' restroom now, can I?" you said, shrugging. "And I couldn't just hand it to you in the middle of the ballroom with all those people."

"Touché," he hummed, taking the device from your hands. His brows furrowed as he turned it in his palm. "Is it supposed to be warm?"

"It's been with the girls in the past hour or so, of course it's going to be warm."

"Jesus Christ," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head as he tried not to let his curious thoughts wander.

He was failing, though. Miserably so.

Because holding the device when it's been in your boobs made him wonder exactly how warm your boobs would actually feel if it was direct contact, right in the palm of his—

"What?" you asked, none the wiser, briefly. Because then it was immediate, the realization crossing your face, probably noticing just how red his face had gotten. "Oh my god—Peter!"

"Sorry!" he squeaked, hurriedly turning his back on you, focusing on the task at hand.

"My boobs are clean, by the way."

"That wasn't the route my thoughts went to," he grumbled.

"Yeah, I figured," you giggled. "Just wanted to confirm."

He rolled his eyes even though you couldn't see him.

Focus. You got this.

But just as he was about to switch the devices, you moved closer to him, bending over until you were at eye level with the safe, your scent overpowering to the point of being distracting.

"Y/N," Peter sighed, head hanging low as his hand fell onto his sides. "You're making me really nervous when you're breathing down my neck."

"Sorry! Sorry," you laughed, heels clicking as you moved further behind him. "I'll just…step back."

With bated breath yet careful fingers, Peter swiftly switched the devices, blowing out his cheeks in relief when nothing happened.

"Great job, Pete."

He shot you a smile over his shoulder and closed the safe, letting his spider friend reverse its steps before taking him off the safe, pressing its tiny tummy for it to turn back into glasses.

Peter put it back on, running his fingers through his hair before turning to you.

You beamed and held out your palm.

But just as he was about to hand you the device, he quickly pulled it back with narrowed eyes.

"Are you putting this in your boobs again?"

You stared at him in amusement. "I didn't grow any pockets at the last minute, so yes."

"Don't you think it's dangerous?" he reasoned, carefully waving the device to get his point across. "I mean, this is the real thing."

"It's not radioactive," you chuckled. "It's not going to suddenly blow up."

"We don't know that—"

"Hey, don't worry," you hummed, your reassuring smile turning mischievous. "I'll still have my boobs at the end of this mission."

Peter rolled his eyes. "I'm concerned about you, like, as a whole person."

"Yeah, I know, and that includes my boobs."

He groaned, "Is this becoming a thing?"

You shook your head, laughing, "No, no, I just didn't think I'd find out that you're a boob guy, during a mission, no less."

"I'm not a boob guy," he scoffed.

Peter was a you guy, to be honest, as in you as a whole person—eyes, boobs, lips, butt, thighs, everything included.

And personality, obviously.

You laughed, leaning close to kiss him on the cheek, throwing him off-guard that you were able to take the device from him without breaking a sweat.

Peter sighed in defeat.

He really wasn't any better than any of the guards in this building.

"Come on," you called, hands now free, the device properly hidden with 'the girls' as you opened the door for him. "We need to get going."

•••

You both were navigating your way back into the ballroom when the hairs on the back of Peter's neck stood up.

"People incoming," he warned, grabbing your hand as you pulled you down a hallway. His enhanced hearing just about picked up the sound of guns being loaded. "Armed."

"How many?" you asked, your free hand picking up your skirt as you walked even faster.

He tried to listen closely, calculating the footsteps that echoed down the hall sans both of yours

"Four," he confirmed, brow raising. "Maybe Five."

"That's too many. The minute they'll see us, they're going to get suspicious. It's going to be too late for both of us to take all of them down without at least one sending a signal," you rushed, testing out every door down the halls in hopes that you'd get lucky. "We need to find a place to hide."

"Shit," Peter cursed, looking from left to right of the hall. "They're coming from both sides."

"In here!"

He wasn't given much to process your words when you all but grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket and pushed him inside a room. The space was quick to grow smaller when you followed suit, your dress knocking over a broom on your way in.

Of course it had to be a janitor's closet.

As if his life wasn't already filled with enough clichés.

Peter grabbed the handle to pull the door close, darkness swallowing you both as it clicked shut. He felt around the metal knob only for his fingers to fall on an entirely flat surface.

"There's no lock," he said, so deathly confused. "What kind of door has no lock?"

"Quiet!" you hissed, pressing your palm over his mouth.

Peter stared at you wide-eyed, his pupils slowly adjusting to the lack of light that he was only now able to gauge just how close you two were.

"Listen," you whispered.

He nodded, closing his eyes as he concentrated on distinguishing the voices.

"The guards have been knocked out."

"Nothing is missing in the room."

"Still, check everything. Be on high alert for anything out of the ordinary."

Peter's eyes snapped open, panic settling in as he heard the footsteps growing nearer.

"Shit, shit, shit!" he cursed, voice muffled by your palm. You removed your hand, eyes confused yet expectant. He explained in hurried whispers, "They're not suspicious of anything being stolen yet but they're coming this way. If we get caught, they're going to immediately find out what we're up to and we're doomed."

Peter watched as your face went through different types of emotions. First, it was worry, a flicker of panic crossing your eyes only to be replaced by something else entirely. The crease between your brows deepened, lips pursed as you tilted your head.

It was that all too familiar thinking face he'd grown to adore.

A second later, your brows shot up, eyes wide, and—if he didn't know any better—twinkling as if a light bulb lit up on top of your head.

"Not unless we make them believe we're just some couple needing a quick fix."

"What?" Peter asked, confused.

You only gave him a sheepish smile and a barely-there whisper of,

"I'm sorry."

Peter wasn't given the time to ask what you were apologizing for when you suddenly grabbed him by the nape of his neck and crashed your lips against his.

He stumbled, his back hitting the shelves. Although the way his head was spinning was definitely not because of the impact.

Peter groaned, kissing you back immediately and with fervor, his hands gripping your waist, head tilting as he pulled you closer.

He shivered when your hand moved down his chest before moving inside his jacket, only realizing that you were slipping the nuclear football between the holster, tugging the straps a little tighter to stop it from slipping out.

Then, you guided his hands, much like with your dance earlier. Yet this time, one landed on your exposed thigh as you hiked your leg against his waist, placing the other on top of your ass.

Peter felt like he was about to faint.

But with every bit of respect he had for you—which was a lot—he still hesitated.

He was unsure as to how far he was allowed to go, deeply worried to cross the line of no return. He didn't want to make you uncomfortable by pushing your boundaries.

He also didn't want to ruin everything he had with you. Whether that was you being his friend or you being his teammate, he really didn't want to lose any of it.

Peter didn't want to lose you.

"It's okay," you whispered against his lips, probably sensing his inner turmoil. "Touch me, Peter."

That was the last thing that made any sliver of his self-control snap.

He growled, squeezing your ass and your thigh simultaneously, pulling your body flush against his as if you could go any closer.

Your gasp was met by a low groan, your hand fisting his jacket as the other took home in his styled hair.

The door swung open, a momentary stream of light illuminating the tiny room. There was a disgusted growl before the door slammed close, darkness covering you both again but neither of you stopped.

Peter gripped your hips, pushing you back slightly until you were the one pressed against the closed door. He cupped the back of your neck, arm curling your waist as he slotted his thigh in between yours in a desperate need to be inhumanly closer.

Your soft moan just about made his knees buckle.

It also made him feel daring enough to gently tease his tongue against your bottom lip. You let him in with his ease, both of you moaning as your tongues did their own dance inside your mouth.

It was intoxicating.

The faint taste of champagne mixing with the taste of you.

It was something that Peter probably spent a great amount of time thinking about yet nothing in his imagination ever came close. No matter what his brain had conjured in the past, it could never do you justice.

It was addicting.

Your pretty little sighs in response to his soft groans, how you were everywhere, your scent, your taste, your overwhelming warmth engulfing his very being. Peter was drowning in all things you, the very thing that could make him breathe again.

It was too much, yet he needed more.

You were so close, but not close enough.

Peter's hands glided down your body until he was cupping your ass, their warmth settling on each of his palms. But just as he was about to tell you to jump up into his arms, you placed a firm hand on his chest.

Your lips detached with a soft pop, the back of your head softly thumping against the door. You gasped for air, hands fisting his jacket before you rested your forehead against his.

He really needed to remember the fact that he could hold his breath longer than any average human could.

Peter put his hands back on your waist, fingers squeezing as he nudged your nose.

"Y/N, I—"

"Like you, too."

Peter's eyes widened, head pulling back as he stared at you in shock. Whatever confession he had left his brain, a lump caught in his throat, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water as he failed to string any letter into words.

Oh boy he was flustered.

The thought of you, you, someone so confident, someone who is way out of his league liking him back, him, little nerdy, dorky, stumbly old Peter Parker, it made his heart soar.

"I'm a trained spy, Pete, I know how to read people," you giggled when he stayed silent for a few seconds. "It's written all over your face. You really haven't been subtle about it the whole night, either."

"I don't think subtlety is my specialty," he whispered, a shy smile growing on his lips as he pressed his forehead against yours, the tips of your noses brushing in the sweetest of ways.

"It really isn't." You nodded in agreement with a wide smile of your own.

"So I don't think I need to be subtle about this," he started, gaze holding yours. He was nervous, but if he didn't say this out loud, he might just explode. "I'm falling for you."

"You're so cliché," you giggled, his cheeks growing hot, his whole body melting, his heart jumping out of his chest and landing straight into the palm of your hand when you added, "I'm falling for you, too."

"Really?" he asked, surprised yet his voice came out a little shy.

It was obvious enough. The words had been said. But he wanted to make sure because this just seemed like one big lucid dream and he'd actually die if he were to wake up any moment now.

"I mean, I haven't been subtle about it either," you giggled, kissing him briefly yet sweetly, brushing your nose with his as you breathed out, "But yeah, I do. I feel so strongly for you Peter that I just—I feel nervous, I feel giddy, I feel safe and appreciated and I just feel so, so happy whenever I'm around you and I just, whatever I did in the past didn't matter because you accept me for me and I trust that you've got the best intentions, I trust you with my life, and you're just the sweetest most thoughtful and I'm just glad to have known you and—" you paused, shaking your head with a soft laugh, "I'm such a sap."

God this felt like a dream come true.

"I like you being a sap," he chuckled shyly. "But I'm just…me, though."

"Exactly," you confirmed, smile genuinely laced with pride. "You're brilliant, Peter Parker. How can I not fall for you?"

Peter's cheeks were starting to hurt with how wide his smile was, but he sure as hell wasn't complaining.

"You're so way out of my league," he whispered, arms wrapping around your waist.

"I could say the exact same thing to you," you giggled, pecking his lips. "But let's debate about this another time, yeah? We still got some codes to find and a bad guy to catch," you said, turning around swiftly to face the door before he could even have a chance to stop you.

"Wait, don't—" Peter sucked in a sharp breath, his grip on your waist tightening as his face landed on the juncture between your neck and shoulder. Your back was against his chest, bodies pressed up far too close. "—move," he lowly groaned against your skin.

"Oh."

Peter felt his whole body heat up from embarrassment. Because he knew you could definitely feel it behind you. He could hear the fast pace of your heart, and if that wasn't a tell-tale sign, he didn't know what was. And no matter how much he tried to pull away, even just slightly, the small space of the closet wasn't letting him do so.

"I'm sorry, I am so, so, so sorry, I didn't mean for that to happen I—"

He tried to move away from you again, but clumsily elbowed the shelf on his right instead which made a few empty buckets topple over from the top. He quickly pulled you back to avoid you getting hit by the falling cleaning supplies, but in turn, it made your ass press against him a little harder.

"Fuck," he groaned, body going rigid when you gasped. You probably think he was a proper pervert now. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to do that either. And I tried to control it I swear but it's just—my senses are enhanced and you're so close and that kiss was really hot and you're even hotter and your ass really feels nice in my hands—shit! I shouldn't have said that, I should not have said that. I mean not! Not that it's untrue, it's very, very true. You've got a really pretty and nice ass and I should really shut up goddammit—"

You cut him off with a giggle, head tilting to the side as your fingers reached up, burying it in his now messy brown hair.

"I feel flattered that a kiss got you this excited," you teased, earning a soft whine from him.

"It's not just a kiss when I've been wanting to do it for so long," Peter confessed, kissing your shoulder softly before he mumbled, "And it's not my fault that you're out here looking like a goddess."

"Look at you," you giggled, squeezing his forearm that was wrapped around your waist. "That expensive suit is really doing wonders with your smoothness, huh?"

"It brings out the suave in me," he hummed, grinning. "Makes my eyes pop, too."

You let out a sweet, hearty laugh.

Peter chuckled, heart warming as he buried his face into your neck.

"How about you take this because I really don't want to accidentally drop it," he started, pulling the device out of his jacket and handing it over to you, kissing your shoulder with a deep breath, "And just give me a second to calm down."

You giggled.

But what you said next did anything but help.

"Yes, sir."

•••

It was quarter to seven when you both made your way down to the underground theater.

There were fewer people this time around. Peter supposed it was expected. What, with a secret auction selling dangerous weapons, you simply couldn't hand out invitations like it's free candy. It could land in the wrong hands—well, right hands, in this case.

He fiddled with the card inside his pocket, free fingers pushing up his glasses, eyes narrowed at the guards by the entrance.

"Shit," he cursed under his breath, noticing how they were ushering people into the theater individually. "I think it's a card for each person and we only have one—"

Peter stopped when he found no sign of you.

"You're not supposed to disappear without letting me know," he said through his comms.

He heard you giggle in response, "I was supposed to be back before you even notice."

"Point still stands," he grumbled. "Where are you?"

Peter grinned when he felt a familiar warmth behind him, your arms wrapping around his waist as you rested your chin on his shoulder.

"Hi."

"Hi," he chuckled, taking your hand to pull you by his side. He circled his arm around your waist, brow raised. "Where'd you go?"

You smiled innocently, yet the proud glimmer in your eyes was unmistakable. You held a hand up, a black and silver card pinched between two fingertips.

Always ten steps ahead of him.

It made him want to push you against a nearby wall and kiss the living daylights out of you.

"Now, how'd you get that?"

You winked. "You know I have my ways."

Before Peter could respond, everyone suddenly turned around to the sound of a commotion.

"Sir, you're not allowed without an invitation," one guard said.

"But I had it!" a man with a stark white beard exclaimed, patting around his pockets, "It was here!"

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave, sir."

"Well, you just lost your highest bidder!"

Peter turned back to you, impressed. "You need to teach me how to do that."

"I can't teach you all my tricks—" your laugh died once you walked by a lamp, illuminating both your faces in this otherwise dimly lit entry hall. You pulled him back under the light, your eyes widening. "Oh shit."

"What?" he asked, worried. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, it's just—" you snorted, gesturing to get him to come closer, hand cupping his cheek. "There's lipstick all over your mouth."

Peter blushed, chuckling, "Would it be so bad to just leave it?"

"You look like you just ate a can of tomato sauce."

Peter pouted.

You shook your head with a laugh, thumbs brushing as much lipstick stain as you could. Just when he thought you were done, you cupped his face, pulling him closer to kiss him firmly on the cheek.

"There," you hummed, giggling, "Since you want my lipstick on you so bad."

"It's hot," Peter shamelessly admitted with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes but grinned anyway, taking his hand and pulling towards the entrance.

"Come on. Let's go spend the millions we don't have."

•••

It took a few more minutes for everyone to settle in their seats. You and Peter choose the front-right corner. It was near the stage but not at the center of attention.

As the clock struck seven, the main stage lights lit up. There were a couple of marble statues littered across—for decoration he assumed—and vases filled with wildflowers he could never name. Right at the center was a white podium, a huge projector screen behind it.

Then, a flash of gold appeared on the stage.

Peter immediately knew who they were.

"Welcome, everyone," the Auclair twins said in sync.

"Why is it always evil twins?" he said.

Obviously, he knew about Halbert, he was the one who gave him the card. But he didn't expect his twin sister to be in on it, too. But then again, the guy seemed to be all beauty with no brains.

And no, he wasn't biased.

"I knew there was something off about her," you scoffed, arms crossed over your chest, pout prominent as you glared at the stage. You were starting to look like you were throwing a tantrum. But Peter decided not to say anything.

Yet.

"I think you all know why we've gathered here so I won't bother you with unnecessary semantics," Greta started, waving her hand at the projector, now showing a live feed of the room you broke into earlier. "Any or all of those high-grade toys could be yours tonight, if you're willing to empty out your pockets, of course. But, to lift everyone's spirits up," Greta paused, giggling wickedly as she dug her fingers into the neckline of her dress, procuring the star of the night, and the bane of yours and Peter's existence.

"The Gold Codes and the nuclear football, available for bidding at the end of the night," she purred, waving the card around as if it wasn't one the most dangerous items on the planet. "We have to save the best for last, of course."

"So hiding things in your boobs is a common thing then," Peter said, catching the sour look on your face from the corner of his eye. He was trying really hard to bite back his smirk.

"So you found the codes before anyone else did."

"What?" Peter looked at you confused. "But I didn't."

"You did," you said, jaw ticking. "You just didn't know you were already looking at it."

It took Peter a moment.

"I was not looking at her boobs."

"Sure you weren't," you scoffed, rolling your eyes.

"Darling," he drawled teasingly, playing up the accent, the fire in your glare unmistakable as you met his eyes. He pinched your chin between his forefinger and thumb with a grin. "You've got nothing to be jealous of."

Huffing, you pulled your face off his grasp, "Shut up."

"You know," he started, daringly throwing his arm over your shoulder. You were never one to cross when you were angry. But Peter simply wanted to have some harmless fun. After all, this was the first time he'd ever seen you like this. "I still haven't decided if you're cute or hot when you're jealous."

"Don't tempt me to punch you."

He chuckled, leaning to press his lips against your temple. His smile widened when he felt your whole body relax beside him.

"So, what’s the plan?" he murmured against your skin.

You shifted in your seat, resting your head on his shoulder.

"We wait until the codes and the football are up for bidding," you mumbled. "Then, I'm going to be a show-off, placing a higher bet over anyone while moving closer to the stage. Once I'm in good proximity, cause a distraction and I'll swipe the codes."

"Got it," he confirmed, flinching in his seat when he heard the bang of a hammer.

"Your numbered paddles are under your seats. Now, let's begin."

Peter had only seen auctions in movies, and they always seemed to be the most boring thing ever.

He never expected them to be as anxiety-inducing as this one.

It was probably the fact that these were dangerous and deadly weapons, carelessly sold to anyone who had the money to buy them.

His heart would sink every time he'd hear that fucking hammer.

Peter was fidgeting with the bridge of his glasses, eyes sharply trained on the stolen Chitauri gun being wheeled off the stage.

"Relax," you whispered, hand on his knee to stop it from bouncing. "We've got backup near the premises. Once we secure the codes, they'll immediately interfere. None of those weapons are getting out of this building."

"They're buying it like it's candy," Peter grumbled frustratingly. "As if lives won't be put at risk if it gets out there."

"Next up, Oscorp's drone satellite," Greta introduced excitedly. "Bigger, better, deadlier than the one by Stark Industries."

Peter's fist clenched. "Why do they always find the need to one-up each other?"

"Egomaniac billionaires," you supplied, hand curling around his fist, bringing his knuckles up to your lips before you intertwined your fingers together.

It helped him calm down a little.

"Things are starting to get boring, don't we think?" Greta laughed, waving around the controller. It was either she wasn't aware of how dangerous the device in her hand was, or she simply didn't care. Her wicked grin told Peter it was the latter. "So how about we do a little test run?"

"Shit," he cursed, sitting upright. "That's not part of the plan."

"You're the faster one," you said, tone calm as you tugged your skirt discreetly and pulled your gun out. "When I give the signal, immediately run towards her and secure codes."

"What signal?"

You stood up, gun raised.

Everyone froze as you shot at the wires that held the scaffolding that was hanging on top of the stage. It immediately gave way, dropping onto the wooden stage and blocking both exits on each side.

Chaos erupted then.

The people running towards the small entryway made it difficult for the guards to get in right away.

But Peter was still staring at you in shock.

"Go!"

He snapped out of it, taking long strides towards the stage, reaching the twins just in time before they could even manage to escape.

"Mr. Reid," Halbert chuckled darkly, pushing Greta right behind him before pulling out a revolver. "You should've bought a gun."

"Well, good thing I did," Peter quipped, reaching inside his holster only to find nothing. He looked up, eyes wide. "Shit. I dropped it."

"Oh my God—" Peter heard you groan in disappointment, and he could practically hear that eye roll.

He would've found the time to be embarrassed if Halbert hadn't started shooting at him. He dodged every bullet easily. His enhanced reflexes paired with how inaccurate this guy's aim was, it wasn't really much of a challenge.

And no, he wasn't showing off.

Okay, maybe a little bit.

Peter couldn't stop his chuckle when he heard the familiar clicking of an empty cylinder.

"Well, looks like I didn’t even need one," he bragged as he stalked towards Halbert, yanking the gun out of his hold before hitting him on the side of the head with the butt of his own gun, rendering him unconscious. He turned to Greta with a mocking tut, "Your twin isn't the wisest, isn't he?"

"No," she scoffed, smile widening as she glanced over his shoulder. "But he bought us time."

Peter saw the entryway clear of civilians, the armed guards swiftly invading the theater.

"Shit."

A flash of red caught his eye, your sharp heels clicking rapidly before you slid on the floor, picking up the gun Peter dropped. You knelt on one knee, gun in each hand, aiming it toward the guards and raining hell on them motherfuckers.

You didn't miss a shot.

He shook his head in awe, "And you said to hold it with two hands!"

"I've fired guns since I was twelve!" you said, tilting your head to throw him a smirk. "I think I can be an exception."

How could he argue with that?

Peter swerved to the right, heart thumping as the glint of a knife covered his periphery. He grabbed their wrist, pulling him forward in one swift motion and throwing the culprit towards the seats.

"Who brings a knife to a gunfight?" he huffed as he kicked away the knife that fell out of their hand.

Peter's attention got stolen by your growl.

His eyes landed on you just in time to see you grab a man's forearm from behind, using all your body weight and the right momentum to throw him over your shoulder, a pained scream when you undoubtedly dislodged his arm, the knife clinking onto the floor. You kicked the guy on the head, his eyes rolling back as he turned limp. You stepped on the knife's handle to fling it into the air, catching it with your left hand before flipping to your right, holding your skirt taught before cutting a new slit on your skirt. Then, you spun, red dress flowing with the motion as you kicked the guy running towards you on the side of his throat.

If Peter wasn't in love before, he sure as hell was now.

"What?" you panted when you caught his gaze, brows furrowed.

"That was so hot," Peter breathed out, your eyes rolling for the umpteenth time before they suddenly widened.

"Down!"

He ducked as you threw the knife, the blade soaring past him and landing into the guy's shoulder, the gun that was aimed at Peter's distracted ass dropping onto the floor.

He looked back at you in absolute wonder.

And did his pants grow a little tighter?

"Will you marry me?"

"Jesus—focus!"

"Is that a 'no'?!" he called out teasingly, elbowing one guy on the chin before hurling his unconscious body toward his allies. He called it the bowling move. Taking a gun from the floor, he turned to you with a pout. "Can't believe you'd reject me, babe!"

"Kinda in the middle of something here!" you yelled back, shooting a guy on the leg before knocking him out with the butt of your gun. You stood straight with a deep breath, tilting your head with your lips pursed before nodding behind him. "How about you help me get those codes first?"

Peter turned, seeing Greta dragging her twin towards the side exit.

"Oh yeah, right," he chuckled sheepishly before going after her. "My bad!"

Fully catching him off guard, Peter flew forward and landed on his chest when Greta swiped his legs. He rolled onto his back, narrowly avoiding the six-inch heel she dug into the floor where his head was supposed to be.

"So you can fight," he breathed out, doing a kip up to get back on his feet.

"I bite too," she hummed, winking. "And I've been wanting to sink my teeth into you, pretty boy."

"Uh, thanks?" he chuckled dryly, face scrunched up. He swerved the knife she threw at him, looking back only to see she got two more, one on each hand. He sighed, "Great. You throw knives."

"What?" she asked, tone mocking as she flipped one in the air, catching the blade in between her fingers with ease. "You don't like knife play?"

"That doesn't sound like fun," he grumbled, running towards her, swiftly ducking as she kicked her leg before grabbing her by the ankles.

Greta fell on the floor with a thud, yet she was quick to kick his knee with her other foot, Peter hissing as her sharp heel dug into his skin. She used this slim window to pull her leg forward, dragging Peter with it and making him land right on top of her.

"Quite a handsome face. Maybe we can go out for dinner sometime," she purred, running her tongue over her lip as she traced his jaw with a knife, sharp tip teasing his throat. "The real party happens later in the night, of course."

"Yeah, no thanks," he breathed out, pulling his head back and quickly grabbing her arms, flipping her onto her stomach in one swift motion. Peter pinned her down using his body weight as he knocked the knives out of her hands. He pulled her wrist towards her back, his knees tight on either side of her hips as he sat up. Holding her wrists with one hand, he undid his necktie with the other, tying her up securely before letting go.

"Kinky," she huffed out a giggle.

Peter rolled his eyes, pulling her up by the shoulders until she was seated on the floor. He walked around, dusting off his suit and adjusting his glasses—they got sticky tape on the sides to not let them fall off during fights. He thought about this ahead, thank you very much—as he stood in front of her.

"I guess it's true what they say about the quiet ones," she said, head tilted as she shamelessly ran her eyes down his body before meeting his eyes. "You're a different kind of man, Lucas Reid."

"The name's Parker," he said with a deep voice as he buttoned up his jacket with the utmost seriousness on his face. "Peter Parker."

You scoffed loudly.

Peter immediately spun, his landing eyes on your figure standing behind him, your jaw tight, arms crossed over your chest, a scowl on your pretty face with that fiery glare to match.

Oh you were pissed.

But Peter had a feeling it wasn't at him.

"You've been itching to do that the whole night, have you?"

"Maybe," he chuckled.

You rolled your eyes, nodding towards Greta.

"Just take the codes."

Peter stared at you like you'd grown a second head.

"What?" you asked, voice taut, so clearly getting annoyed.

"You take the codes."

"Why can't you do it?"

"Because I respect women?"

You blinked a few times before dropping your head with an exasperated groan.

"What? You know where it's hidden!" he exclaimed in defense, gesturing towards the bound woman. "I'm not just slipping my hand in there!"

"I have a feeling she won't mind," you muttered to yourself, but thanks to his enhanced hearing, he heard you loud and clear. "You've practically been humping each other."

Peter decided to keep quiet, scared that you'd actually punch him this time.

Though the glare you shot him was proof that you knew he heard you.

You shook your head, another eye roll before you walked over to Greta, bending at the waist until your face was level with hers.

"Let’s make this quick. Left or right?" you asked.

"Dégage, salope," she hissed.

You gasped, hand over your mouth in feigned shock. "Now, that's not nice."

"Wait, what did she say?" Peter asked as he stood by the sidelines, not too close but not too far. He was giving you the space to do your thing.

"She called me a bitch," you cooed, pouting condescendingly. "Fine. Since you don't want to make this easier for us—"

Before Peter could even question what you were about to do, you stomped on a knife, catching the handle mid-air and straight up slashing the blade in front of Greta.

"Woah!"

Peter downright expected you to have chopped her whole head off—okay, maybe slit her throat because the knife wasn't that big.

But nothing happened.

No chopping, no slicing, no blood, nothing.

Well, not until a split second later when Greta gasped, the top half of her—really expensive, he assumed—dress sliding down her body.

Peter looked away immediately, face hot as he screwed his eyes shut, turning his back on her for good measure.

"Jesus Christ, Y/N," he muttered, taking his glasses off to rub his face with his palm.

But he couldn't wipe his smile off.

Peter knew you could take the codes without having to cut her dress. You were simply being petty. And it was safe to assume it had something to do with the way Greta had been shamelessly flirting with him for the whole night.

Your jealousy fed his ego a little bit.

"You can look now," you said, tone low. "She's covered."

"Are you sure?"

You scoffed, "It's not like you don't want to see it, anyway."

Peter swiftly turned, only catching a glimpse of Greta now wearing Halbert's jacket with the matching gold tie gagging her mouth.

He immediately turned to you who was standing to the side, looking anywhere else but at him. He walked over, rubbing up and down your arms until you uncrossed them. He pulled you closer by the waist, nudging your nose while mirroring your pout.

"Don't be mad."

"I'm not mad."

"Then why did you do that?"

"I had to get the codes."

"Yeah, but it didn't have to involve boobage exposure."

"Boobage exposure," you snorted, the corner of your lip twitching as you finally met his eyes. "I feel like that's something you enjoy."

"I didn't even look!" he defended, his smile widening when you tried your best to hide yours. "I promise. I didn't want to, either."

You shook your head, sighing, "You're such an annoying dork."

"Your annoying dork."

That made your smile appear.

"My dork, huh?" you hummed, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

Peter smiled, pulling you closer, tip of his nose brushing yours. "Well, if you'll have me, that is."

"Have you as what, exactly?"

"Your boyfriend," he said, slightly surprised by his own boldness. But then again, you two had already established what you felt for each other. The fear of rejection wasn't there anymore. Shaking his head with a smile, he added, "Wait, answer that on our date this Friday?"

"Love the newfound confidence, Agent Parker," you said, giggling. "And yes, to both questions,"

"I really like the sound of Agent Parker," he hummed, wiggling his eyebrows at you. "Am I a certified spy now?"

"Eh, if you don't drop your gun next time, then sure."

"Come on," he sighed, pouting. "I could use a name change, you know, like Spy-Dork-Man."

Peter burst out laughing when you physically cringed.

"Tell me one good reason why I shouldn't kick you because of that god awful pun."

"Because I'm your dork now, bad puns included, so you're going to have to get used to it from early doors."

"Touché," you laughed.

Peter looked at you adoringly, but just as he was about to kiss you, a sudden ruckus of applause made you both jump, stance on defense reflexively.

It was the team, right in front of the stage, clapping and wolf-whistling like a bunch of assholes.

Peter groaned, hiding his face in the crook of your neck as he wrapped his arms around you.

"About time you two solved this…tension you have," Wanda said as she reached the stage, gesturing at the two of you before she held her hand out to Bucky. "Hand it over, Super Soldier. She technically kissed him first,"

"Maybe I shouldn't have held Sam back from unmuting the line in the closet," Bucky sighed, pulling out his wallet and handing over twenty dollars.

"You had a bet?" you gaped at the two of them.

Peter turned to Sam. "You tried to interrupt us again?"

"I wouldn't have to if you guys didn't constantly forget that your comms aren't reserved for the two of you only," the Captain chuckled.

"You guys were so cute, though," Wanda said with a smile.

"The smooching sounds were a bit much." Bucky grimaced.

"Don't forget the abundant talk about boobs and ass," Harley laughed, appearing from behind everyone with a bag in hand. "Good thing you finally grew those balls though, Parker. I've grown really tired of hearing you whine about your obsession—sorry, I mean, crush on her."

"Shut up, man," Peter groaned, burying his face back on your shoulder to hide.

"Leave him alone," you laughed, rubbing his back in comfort.

"I wished I could've hacked the cams earlier so it would've been like watching a James Bond movie meets rom-com live," Harley said. "But the audio was good, popcorns still definitely enjoyed."

"Lives were on the line and you guys enjoyed popcorn," you deadpanned.

Sam laughed as he patted both of your backs. "Nah, we just knew you two got it handled."

"What are you guys doing here then?" Peter countered, glaring at them.

"Clean up," Wanda said, cracking her fingers before adding, "I also need to erase your faces off of people's memories because blowing your covers wasn't exactly part of the plan."

"And this guy practically gave out his real name," Bucky chuckled, patting Peter's shoulder before moving over to the unconscious men lying on the floor.

"I couldn't let the opportunity slip!" Peter protested. "It's probably going to be my only James Bond moment, I had to take it."

"That was pretty stupid," you said, scrunching your face at him with a laugh.

"I know that now, thanks," he grumbled.

"Here." Harley tossed him his web shooters and mask, and Peter felt a sense of comfort as he snapped them onto his wrists.

"Pete, you think you can swing us home?" you asked, slipping your fingers into his.

"Yeah, of course," he chuckled, squeezing your hand. He could definitely get used to feeling your affectionate touch constantly.

"Right, we're going to leave this to you guys, now bye!" you called out before you all but dragged him towards the exit, Peter's groan and your laugh echoing down the hall when Sam yelled,

"Use protection!"

•••

You both were honestly too tired to even attempt and continue what started in the closet.

Well, you did try to.

When you landed back at the compound, you both decided to go to your separate rooms and take much-needed hot showers first. But getting to your quarters in itself probably took around ten minutes, all because Peter simply couldn't help but stop every couple of meters down the halls, pressing you against the nearest wall to kiss you senseless.

It took you shutting the door on his face for you both to finally wash off the sweat and grime of the day.

After he was all cleaned and clothed, he didn't waste any time making his way out of his room. But when he opened the door, you were already standing there, fist in the air, mid-knock.

Peter chuckled as he grabbed your waist and pulled you into his room, giggles and satisfied sighs bouncing off his walls as his lips covered your own. He grabbed the back of your thighs and lifted you with ease, a murmured comment from you about him showing off his super strength as he carried you to his bed.

But the second you both hit the mattress, it was simply far too comfy and soft that the intense heat of the kiss gradually simmered into a mellow warmth. His body was covering yours, fingers intertwined, lips moving slowly, lazily yet just as sweet.

And after a few more moments of you two languidly kissing, you ended up settling with cuddles for the night.

Now, here you were, being the little spoon with your back pressed against his chest, limbs tangled, bodies warm and snug under the covers. He was drawing lazy circles on your stomach, his eyes growing heavier with each rise and fall of your chest, the steady beat of your heart lulling him.

Peter thought you were already fast asleep. And he was just about to follow suit until you spoke up,

"Are your hands cold?"

"Not really," he murmured, voice a little rough. "Why?"

"You can always use my boobs in case you need to warm them up."

He groaned, burying his face onto your shoulder. "Are you ever going to let this go?"

"What?" you giggled softly. "You just seemed so interested in their warmth earlier. I'm allowing you to quell your curiosity."

Peter lifted himself a little, just so he could get a clear view of your face.

"Is this a genuine invitation for me to cup your boobs?"

"Only if you wanna," you said, turning to him with a soft smile, eyes half-lidded. "No playing, though."

He nodded with a laugh, settling behind you and gently sneaking his hand under your shirt, no pressure or anything so that you'll be able to move away whenever you wanted to. Then again, you were skilled enough to break his wrist, anyway.

But you didn't do that, not at all.

Instead, you shifted in your place, providing more space for his arm to fully wrap around your torso until he was cupping a boob in his hand.

You sighed, body melting into the mattress even more, your back warmly pressed against his chest as you nosed his pillow.

"They are really warm," he hummed, his whole body relaxing as he let his hand just…be there, without any malice whatsoever. "This is oddly comforting."

"Yeah," you mumbled, a loud yawn following suit. "Like stress balls."

Peter chuckled, "That's one way of describing it."

You hummed, yawning out a soft, "Good night, Pete."

Peter smiled. "Good night, angel."

The next response he got was your soft snores as you finally drifted off to sleep,

Peter didn't expect his night to end with you sleeping in bed with him, all cuddled up in his arms, let alone, with him cupping your boob—which he surprisingly found comforting and adorable rather than anything else.

But he did expect to fall asleep with a huge smile on his face.

And then later in the morning, the thing that would wake him up wouldn't be the sunlight anymore, it'd be your warmth, tickling his skin as you cuddle closer to him. A tired, yet satisfied smile would curl on his lips as he would bury his nose into your hair, breathing in your sweet scent. It was much more comforting, hearing your little snores and sighs, or even your occasional mumbles about whatever it was you were dreaming about.

It was new, but definitely something he could get used to.

It was going to be a peaceful Sunday morning with you, and Peter really loved that.

✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ♛ *.

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