#I nearly swore there 🤣

[writing-for-life]

Dream—Mindy Lee

[madhatterbri]

Pumpkin King | Hangman A.P.

Summary: Professor Page has a little too much to drink.

Author's Note: Professor Page AU. Happy Halloween, babes. ❤️ I shot it out to @smallestsnarkestgirl and she didn't think it was stupid so I wrote it. 😂🤣

Hangman Adam Page Masterlist

AEW Masterlist

Taglist: @theworldofotps @smallestsnarkestgirl @magicalbuttertarts @new-zealand-chic

"I'm the pumpkin king!"

Y/N nearly dropped her phone to the ground when she heard her boyfriend yell that in the background of her phone call. After not being able to reach her boyfriend, Adam, she decided to call his friend John.

"John, what is going on?"

"No, listen, Adam, shut up, Alex. We are just having fun at the football stadium. Adam found a pumpkin and smashed it to the ground. He's wearing it on his head. Now he's the one true pumpkin king. He is going to steal Christmas," John answered proudly. A few of his words were slurred. Four idiots that drank too much on Halloween night.

Y/N was supposed to go out, but she had to study for her midterms. Now, she had to leave her apartment in the middle of the night to bring them back to her place. She thought dating a professor would be easy.

By the time she pulled up to the stadium, she couldn't believe her eyes. Her boyfriend was shirtless with a pumpkin on his head. He stumbled a little as three of his friends cheered him on. As she walked closer, Y/N couldn't believe what she heard.

"Adam, you are the pumpkin king, and we are the creepy little kids," Alex Reynolds insisted.

"Yes! Yes! Uno, you are Lock cause he wears a mask. I'm Barrel and you are Shock,"

"I don't want to be the stupid girl," Alex whined. "You always make me the female character in Dungeons and Dragons too,"

"It's because Shock has long hair. Come on. It's funny. Three of us and the pumpkin king," John chuckled.

"Boys?" Y/N questioned. The Dark Order looked at her. Evil Uno appeared the most drunk as he barely spoke. "Get in the car. John, you better not puke in there and don't push Alex's hair in front of him when he's vomiting,"

"I knew you did that!" Alex shouted.

"I did not! She was driving. Y/N couldn't see in the backseat anyways," John defended.

The two friends walked to the backseat of the car while bickering. Y/N sighed and shook her head. Now she had to rope one more guy into her car. Her favorite guy.

"Hey, handsome," Y/N greeted pleasantly. "You having fun with the pumpkin on your head?"

"I'm the pumpkin king. I'm looking for my pumpkin queen, but she had to study," he pouted. His bottom lip poked out. Y/N swore she felt her heartstrings break.

"Why don't we put your shirt back on?" She asked.

Y/N placed her hand on his bare chest and stomach. She reached behind to grab the shirt that dangled from his back pocket.

"No! You aren't my pumpkin queen. This is for Y/N," he spoke and took a few steps back.

Y/N sighed. "I am your girlfriend, Adam. I'm Y/N,"

"Y/N!" He called out. His light eyes widened as if she suddenly appeared. He grabbed the smashed pumpkin from his head. Some of the pumpkin guts and seeds stuck to his hair. "You have to wear this to be my queen. Don't worry. I'll find another pumpkin,"

"No! Adam put that down. We are going home. You have a midterm to administer in the morning,"

"Did you study for yours? Did you get an A?"

Y/N pinched the ridge of her nose. "Yes, darling, I did. Now let's get you dressed and back to my apartment,"

Adam dropped the pumpkin on the ground after telling it goodbye. He allowed Y/N to grab his shirt. With little struggle, his shirt was back where it belonged. "This was the best night ever. I have my pumpkin queen, and I got my boys,"

"I'm glad you had fun, baby. Let's go," Y/N insisted. Adam stumbled behind her. Their fingers interlocked. He sat in the passenger seat. Y/N made her way to the driver seat.

"Okay, boys, buckle up. We are going back to my place since it's almost one in the morning. You have to be really quiet," she stressed.

To her surprise, the boys actually listened. Not the first time she had to pick them up, the Dark Order laid in their favorite position to fall asleep. They bid their pumpkin king a good night.

Adam sat on the bed. He swayed a little. Y/N helped take his boots and socks off. His shirt was the next to go. Before she could remove all the contents from inside the pumpkin from his head, he laid down on a pillow. The seeds and guts managed to stain her white pillowcases.

She climbed in bed next to him. His arms wrapped around her. Y/N cringed at the feel of the pumpkin yet sighed. This was probably the best way she could have possibly spent her Halloween night.

[chvoswxtch]

From one court to another court

I'm sooooooo happy for you! You deserve alllllllllll the follows (and likes and comments and reblogs)!!!

For your celebration, I would like to request a margarita with Matt that uses a similar theme to Meredith Grey's "pick me" speech from Grey's Anatomy. Not sure if you've seen it, but it's pretty angsty. The line can either come from Matt or reader. Direct quote below:

Okay, here it is. Your choice, it's simple, her or me. And I'm sure she's really great. But Derek, I love you. In a really, big really big pretend to like your taste in music, let you eat the last piece of cheesecake, hold a radio over my head outside your bedroom window, unfortunate way that makes me hate you... love you. So pick me. Choose me. Love me.

But for the love of all that's holy, it needs to have a happy ending 🤣

I love and appreciate you so much! Congratulations again!!!!!!!!

ahhh my lovely court!!!❤️

thank you so much, angel!! okay this is actually hilarious bc I was OBSESSED with grey's (like literally went into college as a premed bc I swore I was gonna be a surgeon) and meredith was always my favorite and the one I related to most.

i'm gonna make matty be the one to stand in the rain and pour his heart out dramatically bc he's a lil shit and I feel like he's gotten his fair share of love confessions and honestly it's his turn to beg. there is a lot of angst, but a happy, cheeky ending!

i love and appreciate YOU so much!!!! 🥂

blurb below the cut

pick me

pick me. choose me. love me.

Matt only had himself to blame for the jealousy coursing through his veins right now. He’d had his window with you. A long, six months to be exact, wide open window to confess how he really felt. There were several times along the way he almost did, when the truth nearly slipped past his lips almost as easily as his excuses for yet another superficial injury. When your hand slipped down his arm to tangle your fingers together as you languidly strolled behind Karen and Foggy down the busy streets of New York. When you leaned closer into his side as you sat together in one of the booths at Josie’s, even though you had plenty of room. When you pulled him into a quiet space to help him calm down, being able to tell when he was overstimulated just by a simple look on his face.

When he told you the truth and you didn’t yell at him. You didn’t call him a liar, or express betrayal through verbal daggers. You didn’t question the authenticity of his blindness with the revelation of his heightened senses. You didn’t walk out on him. You stayed. 

He should’ve told you that night. 

And even though he convinced himself it was safer for you if he kept his heart to himself, deep down he knew he was a coward. 

He was scared to lose you. He was afraid that he would push you too far, ask for too much patience, or break one too many promises that he wouldn’t be able to rectify with an apology and good intentions. He was terrified that he would lose you like he’d lost Elektra. He wasn’t sure what was worse; driving you to the point of resentment because of something inside himself he couldn’t tame, or that very thing tearing you away from him for good.

But neither of those things were as bad as having to endure you being happy with someone else.

Foggy had warned him from the beginning. He told Matt from the moment he met you that if he didn’t make a move, someone else was going to. Karen had cautioned him that you wouldn’t wait around forever. They were both exhausted with the drawn out pining between the two of you, secretly scheming to get one of you to cave and confess, until Matt had snuffed out that ember of hope entirely.

Karen had set you up with a coworker of hers with the intention of making Matt finally pull his head out of his ass, but when you had asked for his advice about the date, he’d told you to go.

What a fucking idiot he had been. A selfish part of him didn’t think you were going to actually enjoy yourself. He certainly didn’t think you would entertain a second date, or a third. Matt knew how you felt about him. He wasn’t stupid, and you weren’t subtle. Maybe he thought because you felt the exact same way about him, you wouldn’t actually move on.

Matt wasn’t bothered by the idea of you going on a date, but he was absolutely distraught over the reality of you being in a relationship with someone else. He was devastated by the fact that you had a boyfriend that wasn’t him. That someone else was holding your hand, making you laugh, kissing you. It made him nauseous to think of what else another man was doing to you.

He didn’t think it would last. He kept telling himself that any day now, the nightmare would be over. You would tell him that it was over, and he’d have you all to himself again.

But it had been two months, and Matt was getting nervous. What if you never broke up? What if you loved him? Did you love him more than you loved Matt? Would you marry him?

Fuck, he didn’t think he could handle that. That guy didn’t love you. Not like he did. No one could ever love you like him. No one could ever protect you as well as he could. No one was as right for you as he was. You were supposed to be with him. You were meant to be with him.

Matt gripped his cane so hard his knuckles turned white as your boyfriend placed his hand on your lower back and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. He hated that you reacted at all to his touch. But a tiny flicker of hope ignited in his heart knowing that you didn’t react to your boyfriend’s touch like you did to his. He didn’t make you shiver. He didn’t make your heart race. He didn’t make heat spread across the tops of your cheeks.

Maybe he still had a chance.

The second your boyfriend excused himself to the bathroom, Matt was tossing his cane onto the nearest table and practically running towards you, gripping onto your wrist to drag you down the hall to an empty room that he barricaded the two of you in.

“Jesus Christ, Matt! What the hell? You nearly-”

“I lied.”

“What? What are you talking about? You haven’t spoken to me all night-”

“I didn’t want you to go on the date. I don’t want to just be your friend.”

Matt’s own heart rate began to accelerate hearing the way yours started to quickly pound in your chest like thunderous warnings in a stormy sky.

“Matt-”

“I love you.”

As a shaky breath escaped your mouth, Matt tore his glasses away from his face and clutched them tightly in his hand. You always told him you felt like he hid behind them, and he wanted you to be able to see the truth on his face. Taking a step back from him and placing your hand over your forehead, you closed your eyes for a moment as your hands began to tremble.

“Why are you doing this right now?”

“Because I lied to you, and I need you to know the truth.”

“Matthew-”

“Just…listen. Please.”

Matt took several steps forward until he was standing in front of you, swallowing thickly as his hazel eyes blankly stared in your direction, searching his brain for the correct formula of words that would fix his selfish mistake and make you his.

“Okay, here it is. Your choice? It’s simple. Him, or me. And I’m sure he’s really great, but sweetheart…I love you. In a…really…really…big…pretend to like your taste in music, let you eat the last piece of cheesecake, hold a radio over my head outside your window way, love you. So pick me. Choose me. Love me. Please…just…tell me I’m not too late.”

Matt tuned out every sound except for the roar of your heart thrashing in his ears, but it paled in volume compared to the silence that rang even louder. He detected a light layer of sweat forming along your hairline, and your nails were dug so deeply into your hands, he could almost feel the blood pushing against the taut, clammy skin of your palm. You exhaled through your nose in a jagged and swift pattern, and there was heat burning in your face, but Matt couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was from right now.

“S-Say something.”

“You’re fucking unbelieveable.”

Matt’s tongue darted out quickly to wet his lips as he shifted his weight onto his other foot, placing his hands on his waist while he cleared his throat and tilted his head in your direction.

“Say…something else.”

Throwing your hands up in defeat, you laughed humorlessly as you turned away from him.

“Six months, Matthew. I waited six months for you-”

“I know-”

“And God, I practically did everything but come right out and say I was in love with you-”

“I know, sweetheart-”

“And after everything, all those times you made me believe there was something more, like I wasn’t crazy and reading too much into things. You know, when you finally told me the truth I thought…I thought this is it. I thought that was the last thing holding you back from me but then-you told me to go out with him-”

“I was scared.”

Matt’s confession halted your furious pacing, and he suddenly felt nervous under the intensity of your unwavering gaze. Dipping his head between his shoulders, he let out a deep sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“People have gotten hurt…because of me. Because of who I really am. I lost-Elektra died in my arms. Twice. I thought…I thought I was protecting you. I thought not being with me…was what was best for you. But…I can’t do it. I thought I could, but I was wrong. I can’t…you can’t be with him. You don’t belong with him, sweetheart. You belong with me.”

“You are the most infuriating man I have ever met in my life.”

The anger had dissipated from your voice, but your heart’s rhythm never faltered, and a melancholic smile glossed over Matt’s lips.

“I know. You still love me?”

An exaggerated sigh flew past your lips as you settled your hands on your hips, shaking your head slowly while staring up at him.

“Well someone has to.”

Matt’s lips parted slightly, and his face morphed into an expression of anticipation feeling the edge of your mouth quirk upwards slowly. He took a cautious step forward, reaching out a hand for yours as an excited grin threatened to take over his entire mouth.

“So…it…it’s me?”

“You know for an Ivy League graduate, you’re not very bright. It’s always been you, Matty.”

The smile that stretched open Matt’s mouth would’ve made you think he had just won a contest, and he didn’t hesitate to rush forward to grab your face in his hands, pulling you in for a long overdue kiss that had you both sighing in content against each other's lips. 

“Shit.”

“What?”

“I…I have to tell him.”

Matt’s lips pulled into a mischievous smirk as he wrapped his arm tightly around your waist, pulling you closer into his chest as he nudged his nose against yours.

“Can I tell him?”

“Matthew!”

“What?”

“Don’t be an ass.”

“I’d let him down gently.”

“No you wouldn’t.”

Matt snickered as he lifted his brows slightly in agreement, leaning in to seek out your lips for another greedy kiss.

“No I wouldn’t.”

[tinyarmedtrex]

💜

This got kinda out of hand 🤣

surprise kiss / impulsive kiss

"The warp core isn't responding!" Henry shouted, grabbing onto the table as the ship tilted again, and everything not nailed down tumbled dramatically through the deck. "We have-" He glanced at the read outs then swore. "Ten minutes, Captain. And that's if we're wildly fortunate." And given the events of the day he doubted they would be.

Alex let out a string of curse words in English then a few in Spanish and one particularly impressive one in Klingon before speaking.

"Okay, I need ideas. Options." He looked around at his officers. "Anything people! I don't care how ridiculous it sounds just hit me!"

"We can abandon ship." Liam offered. "Get everyone we can on escape pods and hope that some one finds us." 

"The odds of survival are one thousand to one, and that's for the people who make it onto the pods." Nora replied curtly.

"We ram the other ship." Amy offered. "We all die but at least those fuckers die too."

"Noble but I'd love one that isn't certain death for all five hundred plus people on this ship." Alex said. "Anyone else?" His eyes scanned the small group, but no one had the strength to meet his gaze. It was a bad situation. They were on a covert mission, one only a handful of people knew about and with no back up. And they'd been caught by the very race they were supposed to avoid.  

"We can kill the power." Henry said. All the heads in the room whipped to him. 

"And then what? Suffocate?" Hunter cried. "We'd be sitting ducks!" 

"Shut up!" With some difficulty Alex walked over to him. "Officer Fox, explain, please."

Henry swallowed. He was the newest officer for Alex's crew. This was his first mission with them, but he'd admired Alex for years. And not just because of his unprecedented rise through the ranks. No, because everyone said he was a good man, a hard ass yes, but he cared about every single person who served under him and would do anything to keep them safe. 

And the fact that he was a walking Adonis helped too. Henry had barely mustered the courage to speak to him and had made a fool of himself nearly every time he had.

But now was no time for his libido.

"We kill the power but only for thirty seconds or so. Give the system time to reboot. It might fix the glitch in the warp core. We could warp away and regroup."

Alex's eyes narrowed. "Odds?" He barked, his eyes not leaving Henry's.

"865 to 1." Nora replied hesitantly. "Roughly." 

He watched as Alex considered it. Another blow rocked the ship and all of them grabbed hold again.

"Do it." Alex declared. A few protests rose up but he stopped them with a raised hand. "Unless any of you have a better idea I don't want to hear it."

"I need to go to engineering." Henry said, taking a few shaky steps towards the door. To his shock Alex followed.

"I'm not making you do this alone." He said to Henry's surprised expression. The door opened and Alex yelled over his shoulder, "Everyone else! Keep trying to signal for help. Maybe we'll get lucky. And keep thinking up ideas. If anyone comes up with one with better odds tell me immediately." 

And then they were in the hall. Things were even more chaotic there, with people running to and fro and others on the floor, injured or just scared.

As they walked Alex kept barking orders, telling people to keep working, keep trying. It took Henry a moment to realize that he was giving them something to do besides panic. 

"You really are an amazing leader, Captain." Henry said as they jumped off the narrow ladder onto the lower level. "I'd be huddled in a corner with my dog." With a pang of regret, he wondered how his beloved pet was faring, locked in his room with no idea what was happening.

"David. Terrible name for a dog."

Henry stopped and stared. "You know his name?"

"You're an officer Fox, it's my job to know."

"Henry, please."

Alex flashed him a smile. "Only if you call me Alex."

Despite everything, the smile made his heart flutter. "We're here, Alex." He said, enjoying how the name rolled off his tongue. Alex seemed pleased too, a smirk appearing on his lips.

They stepped inside engineering, which was as frenzied as the rest of the ship. Henry quickly explained his plan to the highest-ranking officer. He was nervous she was going to refuse, tell him that it was a ludicrous idea, but she only nodded, pointing to the off switch.

Henry flipped the glass cover and was about to flick it when Alex's hand covered his. "Let me. I'm the Captain. If we all die, better that they find my fingerprints on it."

"And here I thought you liked my plan." He muttered but removed his hand.

"Darling, I hate your plan but it's literally the only one we've got."

Then he flicked the switch. Immediately everything went dark, and the air drained from the room. Gravity ceased and both had to scramble to grab hold of something. in the dim emergency lights Henry could see Alex holding up his fingers, silently counting to thirty before flicking it again. 

Henry took a gasping breath then listened as the ship listed the systems coming online. The warp core was one of the last and he held his breath as the ship said, "Warp Core- Partially Operational."

"Fuck yes." Alex said, turning to Henry with a giant grin. 

And Henry couldn't stop himself. He grabbed Alex's face and kissed him, startingly them both equally. The kiss was over as quickly as it began. Henry sputtered out an apology and Alex gave him a sympathetic look before shouting orders into coms, telling them to warp as far away as they could and demanding more in-depth status reports. Henry listened as he strode out of the room, his face bright red and palms sweating. He heard Alex calling for him, begging for him to stop, but Henry ignored his captain's orders and instead went to his room. The ship may have been saved but Henry was certain his career was destroyed.

List is here, if you want to send one!

[rookthorne]

THERE IS A FUCKING SEQUEL

But Steve...Steven Grant Rogers was a shitstigator. You, and your body, knew that well. Bucky knew it well, too. Which is why you had no idea how he kept getting goaded into playing these sexual games. Then again, you let yourself get caught up in it. Safe to say you were feeding the monster and he was feeding you right back.

IS THIS WHERE THE TERM CAME FROM YOU MENACE?! 🤣

“I just wanted to see my best girl,” he said innocently enough. 

liar

You found time to bake for them and Steve, the little shit, turned it into part of his game. “Delicious. Almost as sweet as her pussy. You know, she screams louder with me. Remember last time? I thought her lungs would give out.” You made Bucky feed you a brownie after he nearly destroyed you.

"Why not?" he asked. You didn't have to see his face to know he was pouting. And he was likely staring at you with that kicked puppy expression. You thought you were strong, but those eyes always got you. It wasn’t fair that he used them against you. So you had to keep looking forward.

*bangs the table*

turn a-round, turn a-round, turn a-round

"And the only job you need to worry about is keeping your voice down while I stretch that tight, little hole of yours. Darling, please. I’ll be good,” he swore as he helped you up.

jfc jfc JFC

You raised an eyebrow, not sure if you should believe him. The idea was tempting. “I HAVE to finish.”

“I’ll make sure you finish...your report, too,” he said, his tongue immediately slipping past your lips when you opened your mouth.

YOU CHEEKY SHIT

"...It feels better than Bucky. It feels so good. I need more," you moaned.

"You hear that, punk? Told you I have the better cock."

STEVEN GRANT ROGERS

YOU FUCKING SHIT

"Something wrong, Steve? I thought you liked playing games. You sure as hell don't mind dishing it out. But you can't take it...can you? Oh, she was dripping. Thought she was gonna leave a puddle right here."

“Never swore in Romanian for me,” Steve grumbled, fucking into you like he had something to prove.

“Must not be doing it right, Stevie,” Bucky smirked. “Or do I need to teach you how to fuck a dame again? You can take notes in your sketch pad.”

fucking- where do I go to sign up for this?

I am in fucking love, I love Steve being a brat and Bucky was FINALLY able to dish it, oh my god. 😍

Continuing Orders

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader x Steve Rogers Summary: Steve still runs his mouth, but Bucky dishes some back. Word Count: Roughly 3,042 Warnings: Explicit sexual content, cockwarming, spitroasting, possessive behavior. It’s porn. 18+ Please!!! This is not beta-read, so any and all mistakes are my own

Sequel to Following Orders. Steve is still a troll. Bucky throws some shade back his way. Reader gets wrecked in the process. Enjoy!

You yawned a bit as you typed out your report. It was a bit unnecessary to use one of the conference rooms for that, but you were avoiding your super soldiers. You loved them so much. You really did. But you had to get your work done without any distractions.

Keep reading

[reidsaurora]

"If Loving You Is Wrong" ~ A. Hotchner

Summary: When Y/N has a one night stand with her best friend's boss, she realized just how wrong things are. Lucky for her, the man she slept with doesn't want to be right.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 943

Content Warning: sexual themes throughout (no actual smut though), one (1) explicit swear word, light mention of going to a bar, lmk if I missed anything!

Genre: Smut? Fluff? Aftercare? some weird mix of those three, i honestly don't even know 😭🤣

Extra Notes: N/A on this one

Based On the Prompt: Character accidentally had a one night stand with a reporter… pillow talk causes some problems.

Originally Written: 06/23/2022

Criminal Minds masterlist can be found here!

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Hands tangled up in dark black hair, skin against skin as their senses went into overload, tired moans escaping both of their lips as Aaron kissed his way up her thigh for the umpteenth time that night.

Y/N blinked herself awake as flashbacks played in her head. She rolled over to face the man who kissed every crevice of her body the night prior. She admired the way his tousled hair looked in the light rays of the six o'clock sun.

"Hey," he smiled lightly, like this was something he did often. "How'd you sleep?"

Y/N swallowed hard, trying to hold back the guilt she felt. "Fine. Why?"

"Just asking," he chuckled, his hand moving to her exposed shoulder.

She nearly shivered as his fingertips glided across her skin. "No," she stopped herself. She wanted to tell him to leave, to find some way to convey how wrong this was. Instead? She came back with, "Don't act so innocent when we both know where your mouth was last night."

He chuckled, a deep chuckle she recalled thinking she'd like to get used to. "You're right," he chuckled again, rolling over to hover above Y/N. "I can't help you made me feel like a kid again."

Y/N sighed, trying to think of the right words to say. She turned away, only for his thumb to tilt her head so he could look at her. He glanced over every feature on her face: from her rose-stained lips, to her furrowed brows, to those eyelashes that were as soft as fresh linen.

He kissed her lips for the millionth time, tasting the remnants of her lipstick from the night before. He swore he could feel her eyelashes brush against his cheeks as they kissed again. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"This, Aaron," she finally stated.

"What's so wrong about it?" he inquired, kissing her once more. "We're two consenting adults."

"You don't see any problem with having a one night stand with your colleague's best friend?" she asked point blankly, guilt coming across her again.

"Not when her best friend is as beautiful as you."

Y/N thought about Emily, about how she'd told Emily that she needed some fresh air. About how she just left her best friend, sitting there at the bar, while her back was arched against the headboard of a hotel bed. About how her stomach churned with the thought of her best friend finding out that she'd slept with her boss.

"This is wrong, Aaron. You know that," she told him, almost like an instruction. Almost like a demand for him to be mad at her.

"Well, if loving you is wrong," he paused, bending down to graze his lips against hers again. Fuck, did she love the sound their lips made every time he did that. "Then I don't want to be right."

She sat up, forcing him to move back to his original position. She looked him dead in the eyes, curious as to how he'd take her next demand. "Ask me a question."

"What?" Aaron's eyebrows wrinkled in perplexity.

"Ask me a question. Anything."

He sat up, leaning back against the headboard. "Pfff," he let out as he tried to find a question. "Uh, what's your favorite color?"

Y/N rolled her eyes. "Not that kind of question. Something deep," she explained her game.

"Seriously though, what's your favorite color?" he asked, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

"Yellow. What's yours?"

"Red," he answered. One of his eyebrows raised in sarcasm as he figured out which direction this conversation was going.

"Exactly! Yellow and red look awful together," she rebutted.

He wrapped her arms around his midsection before lifting her chin. "That's a personal preference," he mumbled, peppering kisses along her jawline.

"Aaron." She tried to squirm away, but the more she wriggled, the tighter his grip around her waist became. "OK, what's your favorite song?"

He rolled his eyes, but obliged. "While My Guitar Gently Weeps by The Beatles."

"See, I've never even heard a song by The Beatles," she admitted.

"Well, I can change that," he chuckled, kissing her forehead.

Suddenly, she stopped as the most telling question she could think of popped into her mind. "What's your biggest priority?"

Without any hesitation, Aaron answered, "My son."

Y/N looked down, the guilt from earlier rising up through her stomach once again. "Aaron," she hesitated, "That's why this is wrong. You have a son—a son that you love, a son that, if you're a good father, you put first and foremost. I-" she stopped abruptly, the guilt almost completely taking over her stomach, "I've always been focused on work. I don't have kids. I've never wanted kids. This isn't right, Aaron. Your son deserves a good woman in his life. Not me."

Aaron rolled over again, hovering above Y/N once more. "Well, as I said before," he bent down, their lips stroking together once again.

She hated him, how he made just one simple kiss change her mind. She hated that she agreed with the end of his statement, before he'd ever even finished it. Most of all, she hated that she loved him, even though it was wrong in every meaning of the word.

She locked eyes with him, longing for their lips to connect again, though they'd just parted. One of his hands moved to her neck, his thumb delicately rubbing the skin where he'd bruised it the night before. "If loving you is wrong," he paused again, kissing the sweet spot on her neck, just hard enough for a moan to escape those pretty, little lips of hers, "Then I don't want to be right."

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I'm so excited to finally share my entry for @imagining-in-the-margins Forbidden Love Writing Challenge!

also yeah, i'm with you guys. i didn't think it was gonna turn out to be this smutty either but here we are. i also didn't expect it to be with Hotch either but yk

Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed! I'm really proud of the way it turned out! ❤️

also imma apologize for the weird formatting again, tumblr is still refusing to fix this issue lol

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☆𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒☆

[cevans-is-classic]

Spring Flowers

The third installment of the flowers series I didn't mean to start 🤣

18+ only, please. Language, mentions of anxiety, and Chris being the sweetest.

My Masterlist and Chris list

Autumn Flowers - Winter Flowers - Summer Flowers - Autumn Vows

The chair squeaked when you propped your feet up on the patio table, head tipping back, a soft breeze making your hair brush off your forehead. Chris lifted a brow when you lifted your bottle of water. “No help at all?” He moved further down the row, digging the trowel into the dirt. 

You hummed, “It’s my day off.” 

Chris throws a hand full of soil at you, making you sputter with indignations nearly toppling your chair backwards to wipe the dirt off, “How dare you!.” 

He was laughing hard enough to shake his body, his thighs burning where he leans back, hand coming up to his chest. You huffed, grumbling under your breath about germs and new pairs of leggings, making Chris laughed even harder. 

“Oh ha ha, Evans, you’re hilarious.” You’d sat back down, still wiping your hands down your chest, over your shoulder, checking that your hair was free of the mess. 

He grinned with his teeth. “You’re the one who loves me.” 

The water bottle hit his shoulder before he realized you’d throw it at him, the cap off letting water spill over his arms and chest, “Oh come on!” 

He chased you around the yard, grabbing at you when he got close enough and evading your elbows as you wiggled free to run towards the sliding door. Oh no, you weren’t getting away that easily. He jumped over the pots of flowers, leaping over the chair you’d pulled behind you and caught you around the waist. 

You yelped when he lifted you into the air, spinning you around and around until you were shoving at his shoulders and laughing his name out. Chris kept going, lifting you higher, your legs coming up to wrap around his middle, your head shaking with laughing shouts, “Okay! Okay, you win!”

Your hands were around his neck when he lowered you back down to your feet, his arms still wrapped around your waist. He grinned into the kiss you pressed onto his lips, your own smile causing your teeth to clash together. It was a messy, horrible kiss; he loved it. 

“Finish your garden.” You pulled back, “I’m going to start lunch - oh wait, shit no I have to go to the store.” 

Chris frowned. “I thought you were going to make the chicken you bought the other day?” He brushed his lips over your forehead, you hummed; arms tightening around his neck to pull him closer. 

He ducked his head to kiss you again, savoring the warmth between you two, the easiness that loosened his shoulders and had him melting into your arms. When you patted his shoulder, stepping back with a rueful smile, he ducked his head onto your collar, “I started craving something with broccoli. It’ll be new to try to make.” 

“You know, when we first met you swore you never cooked.” 

Another quick peck before you headed towards the house again. “I want me man well fed, Lad?” He shook his head at you.

-

He had the rows he wanted to get done today finished. He’d showered, changed clothes and taken Dodger for a walk by the time you’d returned from the store. The door closing with a slam that had you shouting an apology. Chris finished typing up the email he’d started, checking it over before he closed the laptop and looked up as you came in. 

You held a bouquet in your hands. 

“Sweetheart.” It was beautiful, bright, the pinks and blues accented by yellow daises and green poms he rubbed his thumb over. 

You lifted it up to let him breathe in the floral scent. “I know I got one last week, but I saw the daisies in the window of Carol Ann’s and had to bring them home. I figured they’d make do until your own grow big and strong.” 

Chris took the vase from you, placing a kiss on your hairline. “I love them.” He sat them down the table from the original ones. The color schemes played well together, one blue and pink and the other soft yellow and white. He wondered if he should move them to the living room, sit them on the coffee table for other to see when they came over. 

“Oh! I got a call from my publisher.” Your voice sounded further away and Chris followed it toward the hallway where you’d left the groceries. Dodger was nosing into a bag. You scratched his head, bending down to kiss between his ears, grabbing two of the bag, and motioning for Chris to help with the others.

“About what? Don’t you have another few months before your bit is due?” The frozen food was put away first, then the ones that went in the fridge and Chris helped you shift the contents of the cabinet around to check for outdated items. 

“Its is, but he wanted to talk about me doing an interview for Writer’s digest.” He stopped with a box of macaroni in his hand, turning to watch you clean off a bushel of broccoli. 

“Writer’s Digest! Baby, that’s amazing!” You were blushing, ducking your head down as you turned the water off. He knew you were trying to play it down. If you’d wanted it to be a big deal, you would have told him over a mini celebration. Chris knew the hold of your shoulders though, knew you were nervous about the news. 

He wrapped his arms around you from behind, places a kiss on your shoulder and holding you against his chest, “Baby,” You nodded to let him know you were listening, “I’m proud of you.” 

A squeak had him shaking his head at you. You’d covered your face with your hands, turning around to hide your face in his chest. Chris chuckled, lifting a hand to cradle the back of your head and sway the two of you back and forth. 

He was proud of you — knew you’d worked hard at getting to where you are now with your journalism and when you’d published your first book last year, he’d been the first one to buy a copy. 

“I could have given you one.” You’d said when he asked you to sign it. 

He’d wiggled the book until you grabbed it, flipping the cover open and signing the dedications page. “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I had you just giving me stuff?” 

A sarcastic tone slipped into your words, “Yourself.” 

You had a point then. Even if it’s small, you gave Chris something. You’d bring home little trinkets, patriots merch you knew he didn’t have, or a book you thought he’d like. If it wasn’t flowers, then it was chocolate he wouldn’t buy himself or a gift for Dodger that had him playing catch with his best buddy for hours. When Chris was away or you were using your office space to write, you brought him origami hearts, boxes, cranes, and once an entire bouquet that gave you more paper cuts than you've ever had before (your words.) 

God, how did he get this lucky?

He loved you so much. 

His mind started firing off an idea that blossomed his love for you in his chest. 

“Come on, let’s get lunch started and then we can watch Netflix.” You pushed him back with renewed vigor and turned back to the food. 

-

They made the interview for the end of April and the closer it got the more you panicked. Chris had seen you at your worst, sick, stressed and feeling like the sky was weighing on your shoulder, but seeing you pacing up the hallways with your headphones in at odd hours of the night — it kept his own nerves in check. He had to make sure you were okay. He had to be the one to take the reins and hold your hand when you needed it. 

He knew what would help when the day came and he’d been preparing for the last two weeks. On the day you’d went for a jog with Dodger, kissing Chris goodbye that morning and taking off with a nervous smile. 

His mom came over as soon as you left, her car packed tight and a bounce in her step. “Lets do this.” She called out. 

Heres to hoping it does what he hopes it will. 

He crossed his fingers that you kept your jog routine the same. The run is interspersed with walks that cleared your mind. Chris knew you’d take Dodger to your favorite trail to walk along the lake. The breeze would keep you calm and grounded even with nerves piercing your stomach. He counted on you following the path from start to finish, then taking your time before coming home to let Dodger rest and grab a protein shake. 

By the time you’d texted asking him if he wanted anything before you headed home, Chris felt thankful that his Mom came over to help. Between the two of them, he had the living room just right and set out your favorite snack to keep you relaxed during the interview. 

He hugged his Mom goodbye when he knew you were ten minutes out. 

“I’m happy you found them.” His mom kissed his cheek, patting his shoulder as she got into her car and buckled up. He jogged back to the house when she drove away and took his place at the kitchen island, tea steaming in your favorite mug and his phone out — he had to play it cool.

Time to put all those acting skills to use. 

The door opened and closed, your called out for him and Dodger trotted into the kitchen — and Chris felt his stomach coil tight and he knew he was going to give everything away if you walked into the kitchen.

This was a bad idea. Chris couldn’t keep a surprise from you no matter how hard he tried. 

“Hey do you remember where I put my laptop? It’s not in the-” You stopped talking and Chris’s shoulders stiffened. Here goes nothing. 

When he walked into the living room, you were standing in the middle of the room, your hands covering your mouth and tears steaming down your face. Chris stood behind you watched you walk towards the flowers he had on every available surface. Purple orchids and snap dragons sat in front of the television, yellow tulips and pink pansies sat on both sides of the couch. You touched the petal of white and pink Lily of the Valley that lined the back wall. When you moved back to the couch, you reached out to grip your red plaid blanket he’d draped over the back of the couch. He heard the choked sob you let out when he you saw he’d replaced the regular throw pillows with your Halloween ones. 

He knew you found comfort in soft items, that you had to have something in your hands when you were nervous and he made sure that a few fidget toys were close at hand. You laughed a shaky laugh at the freshly baked chocolate chip cookies on the coffee table and your Iron Man tumbler filled with your juice. 

He cleared his throat when you sat down on the couch. 

You were crying, a smile brightening your face. You opened your arm towards him and Chris crossed the length of the room, dropping to his knee to fall into the circle of your arms. 

“Oh, Sweet boy.” You nuzzled your face in his neck. “Thank you. No, that doesn’t convey how much this means to me. Nothing could express how much I adore this and you.” 

He didn’t even need to explain what it was for. You knew he’d made this up to help ease you for the interview, to keep you calm when you’d been nothing but nerves all month. Chris moved to sit on the couch and pull you onto his lap. 

“You do so much for me.” He kissed your nose, “This is the least I can do.” 

You tucked his hair behind his ear, flattened the cowlick at the crown of his head and kissed the space between his brows, “Fucking sap.” 

Chris laughed.

Someone knocked at the door and you stiffened, “Come on,” He lifted you up, easing you down until your feet touched the rug, “Let's show off how good of a writer you are and how good of a trophy boyfriend I am.” 

“The best.” You grabbed his hand and walked to the door.

@xoxoloverb @bolontiku @stephv213

I should be asleep for my interview tomorrow but nope I'm writing this

[bookersebastien]

hmmm hello?? for the cliché prompts: 44 for joe x nicky if it speaks to you 😊💜

brielle ty so much for the prompt!! this was so fun to write! i did change the prompt slightly because i ran with the idea before double checking the prompt. hope you like it! also this got lost in my drafts for a bit so yes i know this was from soo long ago 🤣

44. i’m your new neighbor and i got locked out, help! 

Yusuf could think of nothing else other than his painting. The soft brushstrokes, the feeling of the bristles gliding across the canvas as the colors blended together at the tip of his fingers, the idea in his mind slowly taking the shape of something complete, something real, something magnificent.

Or it would as soon as he got up these fucking stairs.

Three days he'd been holed up in his apartment working on a new project, sudden inspiration chaining him to the easel and he was all too willing to let it hold him captive, the paintbrush cuffs around his wrists. He was utterly and completely consumed by it, to such a degree that it was all he dreamed about during the few hours his eyes managed to slip shut despite his best efforts, and all the coffee in his apartment.

Then right as he could practically see the finished product before him, it was missing something, a very specific shade of green so perfect in Yusuf's mind he spent two hours attempting to bring it to life. Paint tubes littered the floor around him, half empty and some dripping onto the ground in what he took to be a mocking manner as he failed each time to make the color he could see so clearly in his mind.

Three art stores later and he could only pray that this time he could create the green he so desperately sought. His fingers were itching to get ahold of his brush, his feet bouncing quickly up the last few steps, once again cursing his decision to live on the third floor of a building with no elevator. But the view of the nearby park could not be beat.

He was in such a hurried daze coming up the stairs that he ignored the noise across the hall from him, juggling armfuls of supplies because even if he was just there for paint he could not let the sale on canvases go unnoticed, nor the new clay glazes they got in.

His breathing was nearly ragged, his hands patting down his pockets, only finding his wallet and not the telltale jingle of his keys. His movements became so desperate he let his stuff come crashing down to the floor, his knees coming down right after, his hands searching inside the bags but the keys were still nowhere to be found.

Now the noise got louder across the hall, he could hear some people talking before he caught sight of someone walking towards him from the corner of his eye. He let his head hang in his hands, mumbling to himself that he swore this wouldn’t happen again after the stairs incident of 2015. 

The stranger approached him and spoke with such sincerity that Yusuf froze in place.

"Do you need some help?" His voice was calm and unbearably soft as he spoke, an Italian accent heavy on his tongue. Yusuf let himself laugh a bit at himself, because even if he wanted to say no, anyone could see that he needed it. After a moment he let himself glance up at the stranger who was looking down at him with concern. He just stared for a second before remembering you were typically supposed to answer when someone asks you a question.

His face was shadowed as he leaned down over Yusuf, but he could still admire the strong shape of his jaw that sloped down to impossibly broad shoulders.

"I uh-seemed to have forgotten my keys." He could barely manage the words, his breath stolen by the stairs and captured by the man before him. A man he realized he'd never seen before. "I'm sorry, who are you?"

He took a look at Yusuf's door before answering, "I'm your new neighbor it seems. I'm Nicky." He sticks his hand out and Yusuf takes it, suddenly remembering he's sitting on the floor as he reaches up.

"Yusuf. Oh sorry--" he pulls back quickly once he sees his hands are still coated in paint, his mad dash out the door didn't include washing his hands first, "--I'm in the middle of a project."

"You are an artist then I assume? Or is there some other use for all the supplies?" Nicky asks eyeing the, quite frankly, ridiculous amount of supplies scattered on the floor around him. Yusuf stood up, suddenly feeling mildly embarrassed as he tried to put everything back in the bags with as much dignity as a man in his position could muster.

"I am, or I guess was trying to finish a new piece I started, hence-"

"Forgetting your keys?" Nicky laughed and Yusuf's heart skipped at the sound. "I can't say I've done the same for art supplies, but I understand feeling when I'm cooking. Can I ask what it is?"

"I don’t usually like to discuss my pieces until I'm done," Yusuf replied before he even realized what he was saying. It’s not like it wasn’t true but the last thing he wanted was to come off as rude to his beautiful new neighbor. He smiled awkwardly as he finished grabbing his things; never one to be nervous he found himself double checking the paint lids with painful slowness before setting each one back in the bags and leaning them carefully against the wall. It felt like it took him hours while Nicky watched.

"It's fine. But I would like to see it when it's done if that's alright."

Yusuf just nodded. He realized his desperation to get back into his apartment had paled now, pushed into the back of his mind as he spoke to Nicky, feeling something stir within him. There was an earnest calm about him, words careful and eyes searching, posture tall though his frame shortened by the breadth of his shoulders.

"Would you like some coffee while you wait for a locksmith?" Nicky offered and Yusuf was in no position to refuse, not like he would anyway but that soft Italian voice pulled at his chest in a way he didn't think he could refuse if he wanted.

"Yes, that would be nice. Thank you...," he whispered, words trailing off when Nicky bent down to help him with his bags, his face catching the sunlight from the window as he stood. His cheekbones complimented his strong jaw, his nose so perfectly highlighted by the light it's as if he was looking at a painting. But it was his eyes that Yusuf could not look away from. A soft green, the color of the shallow waters of the Mediterranean, of sea glass, of the moss that covers the forest floors.

The perfect shade of green.

[mistavybe]

Go-to drink order 🍺🍸🍾🥂

If i’m having a beer, then it’s almost always a Stag - usually at a Carnival fête (for you foreigners, that’s what we call our outdoor Carnival parties / Soca concerts). Just FYI, Satg is my personal preference of the of two locally brewed Trini beers: Carib and Stag. Most Trinis will debate Carib vs Stag heatedly until their dying breath lol)

Back in the day my go to hard liquor was Hennessy... usually with an energy drink as the chaser. Hennesy and Monster or Hennessy and Red Bull etc.

But then I had an unfortunate incident that led to me projectile vomiting what seemed like gallons of Hennessy, Puncheon Rum, Red Bull and whatever I had for lunch that day all over the all white leather interior of an acquantiance’s Escalade in Brooklyn, NY circa 2003 lol. So now I can’t even stand the smell of Hennesy without getting nauseous. 🤷🏾‍♂️🤦🏾‍♂️

So nowadays, my go to hard liquor is vodka. Preferably Grey Goose or Ciroc. Never ever Smirnoff (swore it off forever after a super bad experience following a performance in St. Vincent circa 1998 😳). I’m over Absolut now too, having drank wayyy too much of it back in the very early ‘oughts lol. 🙄🙈

I also had a brief Hpnotiq dalliance somwhere in the late 90’s / early ‘oughts before the Hennessy thing even began. ☺️

Oh, and I nearly forgot to include the year or two in the early 90’s when all my boys and I drank was gin and orange juice, thanks to Snoop Dog 🤣 🍊 🥃

Overall though I have to say my absolute top choices for drinks right now: a good pinot grigio, white zinfandel, rosé or just classic champagne. 🍾🥂

Moët is my go to champagne and rosé. And if I start to list white wines I like, we’ll be here all day lmao.

Me coming to this point in my late 40’s is kind of full circle really, given that wines and champagne were the first alcohols I was allowed to imbibe back when my parents threw their now-infamous dinner parties and house “limes” back in the day. (“lime” = Trini slang for “hanging out”).

Bartender... lemme have a bottle of rosé and two champagne flutes!

[queenscharacters]

“You better not be laughing!” Farrah to Dustan (like ok they’re leaving for their destination wedding tomorrow and she just took a pregnancy test 🤣) (she will be laughing)

Dustan was not laughing. No, Dustan was on the brink of tears. Happy tears, sure, but he was trying his best to obey his fiancee’s wishes and he was absolutely shaking trying to contain himself. He knew if he opened his mouth, he wouldn’t just be laughing. He’d be howling.

This really was the best news ever in his eyes - almost more exciting than their upcoming wedding, even. The only reason he was losing it was because he literally predicted this happening (after all, they clearly weren’t the most careful) and Farrah insisted it wouldn’t. Swore up and down that their third child would be conceived after they got married. Dustan didn’t care one way or another, but he had just rose an eyebrow at her at the time. Hell, he even tried to be better with throwing on a condom.

“I-“ Just as he predicted, the second he spoke, several giggles left his lips. His fiancée tried her best to pretend glaring at him, but she broke immediately, dissolving into her own laughter. He couldn’t finish his sentence for nearly a minute, they were both laughing so hard. “Okay,” He wheezed, “I don’t even feel bad saying I definitely told you so!”

Farrah playfully swatted him, still laughing herself. They were literally in hysterics. Finding out she had been expecting Penny was nerve wracking for both of them. When it came to Dusty? They were blissfully happy, but still shook to their core. This child, though? They were absolutely losing it in the best way possible. He could only imagine his family’s reaction when they broke the news to them.

When they finally calmed down, Dustan wasted no time in scooping Farrah up into her arms, crushing her body to his while he still could. “Good thing we’re finally getting married, huh?” He mused teasingly, pressing a kiss to her forehead, the tip of her nose, then her lips. “I honestly didn’t think this week could be any more perfect, but like always, I’m stood corrected.”

[marveladdictt]

You walked up your stairs and down the hallway to your apartment, fumbling while trying to find your key. Your eyes drooped as you opened the door and were met with a cold chill causing you to shiver, but you brushed it off and walked into your room. You sat your bag down and brought out your computer and notebook, placing them on the desk. You had just got back from the campus library that was supposed to be open 24/7, but apparently even they have to close for some reason. So now you're stuck having to study for your class in your own home. You only had one test to study for—a quiz that your professor so graciously implied—then you could sleep for as long as you would like.

How kind of your professor.

“Love, you need to go to bed, you're stressing too much and it can’t be healthy.” His hand reached down to your arm as he lightly tried to pull you up. But you were too stubborn.

The video was long enough for the sun to rise before it finished. You were barely keeping yourself together. Constantly pausing it and slowly writing down the same notes which you swore you already wrote, your eyes were barely able to stay open for long.

I feel like we've all been in this situation a few to many times...🤧

Peter groaned and reached his arm out in your bed in search of you, trying his best to snuggle closer to you or pull you closer to his chest. But when he found nothing but your soft pillows and cold bed sheets, he lifted himself up by his arms, trying to find if you're here with sleep filled eyes. But when he didn’t find you snuggling next to you, he started to panic.

Why is this part so sweettt?!! 💕

He huffed and just started poking your cheek, doing it until you started groaning slightly moving. “Good morning my love.” Peter smiled and kissed you on the corner of your lips.

AAAAANSJSS I can just imagine a cute lil Peter poking your cheek tryna get you to wake up 🤣 🥺

“Hmm,” Peter hummed and checked your computer screen for the time. “Nine in the morning. Now, I wanted to make some pancakes-”

I'll take the pancakes Pete... 😢

“What do you mean ‘this’?” Peter asked, slowly guiding you to the bed to sit on while pressing the spider symbol on his suit, causing it to fall off. He headed over to the bedside table and picked up the lighter, carefully starting to light the candles. “I thought it's what you've been wanting to do all day.”

He's so innocent i can'ttt

“I don’t really want to have sex and I kinda wanna take a nap on your bed cause your bed is really comfy-”

“What?!” Peter jumped up, nearly dropping the lighter that was still on. “I-I wanted to take a nap with you ‘cause you were tired and I was worried about you! I don’t want...that now--I kinda just want to cuddle with you since we couldn’t last night.”

Pfffff lmao! How'd he miss that, but hey, props for not dropping the lighter 💀💀

“You like rose petals and the candles are the ones you said were your favorite.” Peter held up one of the candles. “We got a ton last year from that sale from Bath and Body works, and you didn’t have enough storage for all of them so I took some and I figured I’d use them now and light them so it looks all romantic an--oh.”

Oh, Peter, sweet, naive Peter *smh*

Peter smiled and gave you a quick kiss on the neck, regaining his confidence. It was you after all. He doesn’t need to feel flustered like that when he’s with you. “I wanted to do something for you. You’ve been so stressed out and I just wanted everything to be perfect.”

This is so pure 💞💞

He can look at you with admiration in his eyes as he is just bewildered by you. Not only in the way you look but the way you hold yourself, so effortlessly you. He can hold your hand at any time whether it’s on the streets of New York or at one of your places, simply snuggling on the couch and watching a movie. He can come to yours and even stay over if you were okay with it after patrols. It helps to get those dark thoughts out, just spending time with you, knowing that you’re okay.

Couple Goals.

“Good, and I was thinking about also getting some of their potstickers too—but if I’m honest I don’t really know the difference between dumping and potstickers—”

.... You're ruining the moment Peter.

THIS WAS SO CUTE!! I love Peter in thisss 💖

Sleep

Peter Parker x reader

summary: You overexert yourself studying, and peter just wants to help out

(this was a request but i accidentally deleted the ask 😭)

warnings: one innuendo

w/c: 2.8k

masterlist

You walked up your stairs and down the hallway to your apartment, fumbling while trying to find your key. Your eyes drooped as you opened the door and were met with a cold chill causing you to shiver, but you brushed it off and walked into your room. You sat your bag down and brought out your computer and notebook, placing them on the desk. You had just got back from the campus library that was supposed to be open 24/7, but apparently even they have to close for some reason. So now you're stuck having to study for your class in your own home.

You only had one test to study for—a quiz that your professor so graciously implied—then you could sleep for as long as you would like.

“Y/n? What are you doing? It's after midnight, ” Peter called from climbing through the window. Taking off his mask and pressing the spider emblem on his suit making it fall off. A usual occurrence, but watching you sitting up at your desk is a new thing at this time of night. Normally you are reading or on your phone, or maybe even sleep depending on your day; but you were always in your bed.

“I’m doing some late night studying for my test tomorrow.” You answered. “Have a shower and then I’ll meet you in bed in a little.” You promised as you wrote down notes from a video you were watching.

Peter just nodded as he walked over to the dresser and took out a fresh pair of boxers, then walked over to you and kissed your cheek before heading to the bathroom. You heard the shower turn on and then went back to focusing on the video. Writing down any information that may be useful for the test.

You’ve spent the whole day studying for the exam, and honestly it felt as though you couldn’t recall a single piece of information. Everything felt like it went in one ear then out the other and you couldn’t risk not doing well, not if your professor keeps surprising quizzes on you.

So staying up all night seemed like the perfect solution.

It's not something that you were unused to. You’ve had your fair share of sleepless nights, working on caffeinated drinks and doing your best not to think about how tired you are during the day. Some of your dates with Peter even consisted of studying and coffee.

You didn’t even realize when the shower stopped, too engulfed into your work and writing notes. “Hey, are you sure you’re gonna be okay? You should probably go to bed.” Peter's voice caused you to jump. You paused the video and spun in the chair to face Peter. He didn’t look too beat up from patrol tonight. He didn’t need any stitching or medical help which was always a good sign, although he did have a small dark purple bruise on his lower stomach that would probably be gone by morning.

“I’m fine Peter, I just need to know a couple more stuff then I’ll be done. You go ahead and sleep though.” You responded, about to spin back to face the desk but Peter’s arm on the chair prevented you from doing so. “What?”

“Love, you need to go to bed, you're stressing too much and it can’t be healthy.” His hand reached down to your arm as he lightly tried to pull you up. But you were too stubborn.

“Peter, how many times have I let you stay up at the lab or out on patrol, or what about your tests last week, hm? I let you stay up cramming.” You pointed out. “So why can’t I?”

Peter gave a heavy sigh then leaded in and gave you a sweet kiss on the lips. “Fine, but please don’t stress yourself out even more. You’re already smart, and some test doesn't determine that.”

“Awe, Pete.” You cupped his cheek with your hand and he leaned into it, smiling and putting his hand to cover yours. “I won't, don’t worry.”

“I’ll always worry.” Peter admitted, causing you to sarcastically roll your eyes but his little comment made your heart flutter. You knew Peter would always worry about you--not to mention you always worried about him when he was on his missions. You let go of Peter and spun back to the desk. You heard Peter shuffle under the covers. Normally after patrol he passes out right away. But tonight you noticed he took a little longer to fall asleep. He kept moving back and forth, switching from laying on his back, then on his stomach, and then on both of his sides. Eventually, though, he must’ve been able to fall asleep; you heard soft snores and saw his stomach going up and down.

Turning your attention back to your studies, you resumed your earlier position and got back into your studying groove. Pausing and starting the video over and over again, writing down your notes in your notebook. After your video ended you looked down to your notes and tried to make sense of them but you had no luck. Your handwriting was illegible, even with your own eyes. You sighed and tried to recall any information from the video but it was no use. You were completely blanking on everything. You restarted the video and turned to the new page, throwing out your old pen that is now empty and grabbing a new one. You leaned back in the chair and started rewriting your notes.

The video was long enough for the sun to rise before it finished. You were barely keeping yourself together. Constantly pausing it and slowly writing down the same notes which you swore you already wrote, your eyes were barely able to stay open for long.

Peter groaned and reached his arm out in your bed in search of you, trying his best to snuggle closer to you or pull you closer to his chest. But when he found nothing but your soft pillows and cold bed sheets, he lifted himself up by his arms, trying to find if you're here with sleep filled eyes. But when he didn’t find you snuggling next to you, he started to panic.

He threw himself off the bed which caused him to take a tumble and face plant onto the ground. He hoisted himself up and saw you sitting at your desk, video still playing, and your eyes closed. He meekly smiled at the sight of you, he was glad you were sleeping, but he doubts you’ve gotten much.

The position looked painful, your neck was landing on your shoulder that Peter was sure going to leave you with an ache. He walked up to you and kissed your forehead, trying to calmly wake you up. But when that didn’t work he pursed his lips, a little annoyed but still persistent. He lifted up your hand and kissed your knuckle, still no response.

He huffed and just started poking your cheek, doing it until you started groaning slightly moving. “Good morning my love.” Peter smiled and kissed you on the corner of your lips.

You grumbled and stretched your arms, blinking and trying to rub the sleep out of your eyes. You smiled when you saw Peter but then groaned again when the crick in your neck that made sure you were definitely awake. Peter immediately noticed and supported your head by cupping your jaw.

“Good morning Petey.” You leaned forward and kissed Peter on the lips. “What time is it?” You groggily asked, running your hand through his soft curls that always make him look adorable.

“Hmm,” Peter hummed and checked your computer screen for the time. “Nine in the morning. Now, I wanted to make some pancakes-”

“NINE?!” You jumped out of the chair and went to your closet. You quickly put on a sweatshirt overtop of your short-sleeve top you were wearing and came back out, grabbing your school bag and putting in your laptop and phone. “My test is in a few. Today at your place, right?” You asked as you put your shoes on, balancing yourself using the wall.

“Yeah, but are you sure you are up to it?” Peter asked. “I don’t think you got a lot of sleep last night, and it’s not a problem to do date night here or to not have date night at all.”

“I’m fine, I just really have to get to class.” You rushed out the door before Peter could protest. He let out a heavy sigh, knowing full well that there isn’t much use running out and stopping you. All he could do was be there when you would undoubtedly be half-asleep after the test.

So, he got to planning.

The next hour and a half, Peter was planning what you would do when your test was over. And after everything was set up, he went to pick you up.

And when he says pick you up, he means literally.

Putting on the spidey suit, he jumped out his bedroom window and into New York. The city’s loud noises filled his senses, but with being able to take a quick deep breath he was able to focus on the more important things: the annoying itch on the back of his head that wasn’t going away, trying to avoid the thrill-seeking birds that always flew a little too close to him, and you, of course. You definitely are the most important, but he didn’t want to pick you up with bird residue on his suit. He tried once, but you insisted on walking home while calling him with your phone to give him an earful on how he should clean the damn suit.

You sighed as you turned in your exam at the professor's desk, making sure he heard the annoyance in your sigh. You exited the lecture room, pulling out your phone so you could tell Peter you were on your way over to his place. Once the text was sent you pushed the heavy door open and was met with a cold draft in the air, then a rush of cold air.

You clenched your fists on Peter's shoulders, slightly pinching him as a small punishment for not letting you know about his plans. You had your legs wrapped around his waist and his left arm was supporting you, giving you a hug and pushing you a little closer to him.

You never expected that this type of air travel to be as pleasant as what it is. It was terrifying at first—and sometimes when you get picked up by surprise—but as Peter took you on little dates on roof tops more and more, you got used to it. It was quite a thrill, feeling the air rush in your face would be such a calming yet exciting feeling.

When Peter arrived at his fire escape, he started to hold your bridal style. He carried you in through the window and put your bag on the ground. Peter took off his mask and kissed you lightly, a small peck on your lips. It made your heart flutter more than any swing through the city ever could.

“I planned a little something.” Peter smiled cheekily. Just standing there, having that loving look in his eye… it made you go crazy for him, or as crazy as you could go while being half asleep and practically brain dead from all of the cramming.

But you weren’t sure how much you were up to for tonight.

Peter slowly dropped your legs but still had one of his arms wrapped around your shoulder, allowing you to lean into him and hold you close, while also allowing you to admire his work. His work being a clean room aside from the candles and flowers that littered the room, but more specifically, his bed.

Now, Peter isn’t the one to imply things, per say; and he's also pretty good at reading people's emotions, so you were just confused on why he would think this is something you would want to do now, after being up for too long and exerting too much of your energy into one fucking test.

“Hey Pete, I’m not sure if I’m up for anything really, if I’m honest I’m having trouble just keeping my eyes open.” You told him while stifling a yawn.

You looked up on him and he had a raised eyebrow. “I know… that’s why I did this.” He gestured to the neatly made bed and smiled proudly. “I knew you probably didn’t want to go out for that walk and picnic in central park like we planned.”

“Pete, I don’t really want to do this now.” You yawned this time, not being able to hold it in and you rubbed your eyes too.

“What do you mean ‘this’?” Peter asked, slowly guiding you to the bed to sit on while pressing the spider symbol on his suit, causing it to fall off. He headed over to the bedside table and picked up the lighter, carefully starting to light the candles. “I thought it's what you've been wanting to do all day.”

“I don’t really want to have sex and I kinda wanna take a nap on your bed cause your bed is really comfy-”

“What?!” Peter jumped up, nearly dropping the lighter that was still on. “I-I wanted to take a nap with you ‘cause you were tired and I was worried about you! I don’t want...that now--I kinda just want to cuddle with you since we couldn’t last night.”

Now that sounded more like Peter. But you were still confused about everything he was saying and doing. “Then what's with the cheesy room?”

“You like rose petals and the candles are the ones you said were your favorite.” Peter held up one of the candles. “We got a ton last year from that sale from Bath and Body works, and you didn’t have enough storage for all of them so I took some and I figured I’d use them now and light them so it looks all romantic an--oh.”

Peter had a look of terror on his face, his eyebrows scrunched and his teeth gritted a little, almost like he was cringing at himself. “Did it just hit you?”

“Yeah. B-but I promise that was never my intention-”

“Pete I know, I know.” You stood up and took the candle from him, placing it on the bedside table. You gave him a soft peck and held his hands. “But how did you not see it before?” You lightly laughed, causing Peter to do so too.

“I think I was trying to sort everything out before your test ended and I got a little blindsighted.” He sighed and put his head in the crook of your neck, trying to avoid looking at you from embarrassment.

Peter smiled and gave you a quick kiss on the neck, regaining his confidence. It was you after all. He doesn’t need to feel flustered like that when he’s with you. “I wanted to do something for you. You’ve been so stressed out and I just wanted everything to be perfect.”

“But Pete everything is perfect when I’m with you.” You smiled and ended up holding him a little closer. “I was just confused because you also started to strip in front of me-”

“Can we take that nap now?” Peter asked, not wanting to go into how oblivious he was anymore. You nodded and quickly went to change out of your clothes that you’ve been wearing for far too long. Peter tucked himself in bed in just his boxers--why he so nonchalantly took off his suit without any indication of getting clothes--and pleasantly waited for you.

He thought it was weird to be in love, the way he didn’t even need to think about what to do with your tiresome behavior and just knew, granted, he could have presented it a bit better but still--it counts. It was intimacy he craved ever since he met you; the stolen glances, the wishing that your hands would brush up against his again, the way he would visit you at the end of patrol just to talk to you.

Now he can do all of that.

He can look at you with admiration in his eyes as he is just bewildered by you. Not only in the way you look but the way you hold yourself, so effortlessly you. He can hold your hand at any time whether it’s on the streets of New York or at one of your places, simply snuggling on the couch and watching a movie. He can come to yours and even stay over if you were okay with it after patrols. It helps to get those dark thoughts out, just spending time with you, knowing that you’re okay.

You came out of the bathroom in one of Peter's tops and flopped yourself onto your side of the bed. Peter wrapped an arm around you and pulled you closer, a perk of the spiderbite, and held you close.

You sighed contently as you let your eyes drop and be engulfed by the warmth that was Peter. “I got a coupon for that place with the good dumplings if you want me to pick some up later?”

Snuggling a little closer you smiled. “That sounds real nice, Pete.”

“Good, and I was thinking about also getting some of their potstickers too—but if I’m honest I don’t really know the difference between dumping and potstickers—”

“Pete?” You struggled a bit away from him to get a better look at him.

“Yeah, lovebug?”

“I love you, but please shut up.” You said in a soft voice, kissing his nose lightly, then resting back onto the bed.

“Yeah, okay. Love you, too.”