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simpforboys · 3 years ago

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in another dimension (11)

she/her pronouns

mentions of no way home spoilers! proceed with caution!

summary: peter takes y/n to the feast shelter, where they bond with aunt may and miles

warnings: swearing, fluff

last part, next part

HAPPY NEW YEAR, AND THANK YOU FOR 1000 FOLLOWERS!! A WONDERFUL START TO THE YEAR :)

y/n walked out of the shower quickly. her and peter were already running late, both deciding to sleep in without knowing the real time.

aunt may called peter and asked if he could come in and help out at the shelter since they have been short stacked for the holidays.

“shit, peter-“

y/n stubbed her toe on the bed. she groaned in pain.

“baby- i can web sling us to the shelter. it’ll be quicker then taking the subway.”

peter, who was dressed in a sweater and jeans, said as he walked into the bedroom.

y/n sighed. she could feel peter was dying to get a kick back at being spiderman, seeing as he was being so insistent lately on his spidey-powers.

“i think there’s a spider in here, i got bit again last night.” y/n exclaimed as she showed peter her bug bites.

the man wasted no time in crawling up the wall, inspecting every nook and cranny until he eventually found a spider-web. he collected the web in his hand.

“was that really necessary?” y/n grinned as she watched him throw it away.

“yes!” peter exclaimed.

“are you saying that because you’re worried about being on time- or because you just want to swing again?” y/n cocked an eyebrow as she got dressed.

“both?” he said, although it sounded more like a question.

y/n huffed. “fine.”

peter’s eyes lit up like a kid in a candy shop. “i love you endlessly,” he blurted, rushing to get his web shooters.

y/n just grinned and shook her head.

he came back giddy, practicing webbing a painting. “alright, we ready?”

y/n nodded as peter opened their window. peter climbed out, sitting in a squat position as y/n climbed onto his lap carefully. she buried her face in his shoulder as he started swinging.

peter was having a thrill, feeling the wind rushing through his hair for the first time in months.

he loved his retirement, but he also liked being the friendly neighborhood spider-man.

he also loved how y/n didn’t stay up waiting in the hours of the night for him anymore, knowing he was right there with her. they went to bed together and woke up together.

peter’s eyes laid on the feast shelter as he zipped through the wind. “almost there, love.”

he felt her squeeze him tighter as he landed them gentle on the roof. “alright,” peter helped y/n down.

“you okay?” he asked.

y/n nodded. “yeah- i think i’m starting to get used to it,” she breathed.

peter grinned. “thank you.”

peter held the door open for y/n as they entered the building, stairs on the left leading up to offices. costumer service and check ins was located on the right.

peter grabbed y/n’s hand, leading her through the groups of homeless people.

“may should be-“

“peter! hey,” aunt may came from the kitchen. her eyes were big and bright. she hadn’t seen her nephew in awhile, only meeting y/n a few times.

“hi, aunt may,” peter gave the woman a tight hug.

“y/n, you look beautiful,” may complimented. she turned to the woman and gave her a hug.

“thank you, may. as do you,” y/n said. peter couldn’t help but smile wide. he loved when his two favorite women got along.

“alright, miles can use some help in the kitchen if you two wanna go start there.”

the couple nodded and made their way to the kitchen where, no one other than miles was there.

“what’s up, miles?” peter spoke up.

the teenager turned around with a wide smile on his face. “may asked me to make a bunch of sandwiches. wanna help?”

“of course.”

the three got to work. giggling and making jokes, all the while making over a hundred sandwiches.

y/n’s eyes focused on a mom with a newborn baby and little girl that couldn’t be older than four.

she felt her heart ache.

she knew how fortunate she was that her and peter could afford to live in new york, her getting a job at a highly paying scientific study research job.

y/n never really thought about having kids other than the time her and peter talked about it.

“you okay?” peter bumped her with his hip, snapping her out of her gaze.

“yeah,” she nodded. peter gave her a small smile.

“try not to focus so much on it. they’re the best place they can be.”

she gave him a kiss on the cheek. “man, i’m so single.”

y/n and peter laughed at miles’ joke. “your time will come.”

aunt may came walking into the kitchen.

“sorry to leave you alone. is everything ready?” she asked.

the three nodded. “perfect, thank you so much.”

the group grabbed sandwiches and prepackaged chip bags with a cup of water and began passing them out.

while most were thankful, there was a few people who snatched the food without muttering a thanks.

y/n pursed her lips together.

she approached the mom she was watching earlier. the kind woman thanked her for the food and began helping her children.

“alright, i have to go.” miles spoke up, giving peter a look that could be understood as spidey duties.

“thank you, miles,” aunt may pressed a motherly kiss to the teen’s cheek as he gave peter a handshake.

“can we offer to take you to dinner, may?” y/n asked the older woman.

“oh- you don’t-“

“we insist, aunt may.”

the woman grinned. “okay.”

taking the subway to a smaller diner, the trio talked the night away. y/n couldn’t stop laughing as she listened to aunt may tell peter’s embarrassing childhood moments.

peter was a blushing mess as he held y/n’s thigh under the table. “alright, alright, i think that’s enough.”

“i don’t think that’ll ever be enough,” y/n argued. her smile began fading as she came down from her laughing fit.

aunt may grinned.

“so, have any plans for the wedding yet? congratulations, by the way,” aunt may said.

“thank you,” they both said.

“uh, so far we have a date set and a venue. i still need to call a few places.”

“i just can’t believe peter is finally getting married. i waited a long time for this,” aunt may relished.

y/n and peter both grinned.

after making aunt may sure got home safely, the couple walked down the busy streets of manhattan hand-in-hand.

y/n clutched onto peter’s arm as they walked, the cool breeze making it chilly.

unbeknownst to them, however, was someone was watching their every step.

@uwiuwi @ashley13s @aidyslovee @heyyimlaynna @etheriaaly @plutoneu @simp1205 @bunnietoof @dnllbtrc @winterwallacehenderson @buckycuddles @blankspaceblankday

#tasm!peter parker x reader #peter 3 x reader #peter 3 #peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker #the amazing spider man #spider man #spiderman no way home #no way home #miles morales #aunt may

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hoe-doroki · 4 years ago

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steel and lace

minors do not interact

warnings: 18+, anal play, sex toys, voyeuristic fantasy, scratching, creampie

pairing: bakugou x fem!reader

wc: 3.8k

summary: The only one who manages to get Bakugou’s birthday right is you.

a/n: This is my addition to the Bakugou Birthday Bash collab (masterlist). Many thanks to @lady-bakuhoe for helping me flesh out the ideas with this story!! You were integral to this idea, love! And additional thanks to @whats-her-quirk and @therealvalkyrie for beta reading <333

edit: I no longer write x reader but here’s my old masterlist - mobile | desktop

Bakugou never took work off on his birthday.

Never. Why would he? Villains didn’t give a shit that this was the day the old hag had unceremoniously had him evacuated into a hospital room however many years ago. They didn’t give a shit that his friends—who were also heroes who should be fucking working, by the way—wanna come over to his house and surprise him. As though his reconnaissance-trained ears weren’t as fucking fine tuned at hearing idiots on the other side of the door as theirs.

What villains should care about was that he was a year older, wiser, and fucking stronger, and he was going to kick all their asses. That was what he told all his idiot friends every year when they asked him if he was going to take off work.

Every year he regretted it.

The idiots he works with really must not care about hero work, because every year they want to send him out on a field post sugar crash from some store-bought cake with his name on it. Or buy him gifts that he’ll probably toss in the trash on the way home. He’s not being rude; he just doesn’t need junk that he never would have bought himself in the first place.

Everyone is always grinning at him, wishing him a happy birthday—as though he’s any goddamn happier to see their ugly mugs flapping their lips at him—and trying to start stupid-ass conversations. If he doesn’t like small talk normally, why would he want it on his birthday?

And the singing.

If people really wanted to wish him a happy birthday, they’d find a way to do it silently while doing some respectable fucking hero work. Make his day easier.

But no, none of that was what happened. So he should have just stayed home. Let the villains have a fucking field day on April 20th, and he could have his real gift killing them all tomorrow on the 21st.

But, unfortunately, he was a dumbass and had gone to work anyway, like he’d learned nothing from the last many years of antics. And the continued antics had got him a little pissy. And when he was pissed off, his heart rate increased, his breathing grew heavier, and, of course, he sweat.

Well. Guess what happened?

“Bakugou, I am currently paying to treat burns and fractures on three villains. Care to explain?”

Best Jeanist was sitting in his office chair, blinding sunlight streaming in behind him. Late afternoon sun—darker in color but way more resentful towards human eyes, apparently. It was reflecting off of all of the neighboring glass corporate buildings, making Bakugou squint behind his mask.

Bakugou shrugged, petulant as he stood behind his chair instead of sitting in it. “Overkill.”

Best Jeanist nodded. “Did you…lose control?”

“Tch,” Bakugou scoffed. As if he ever lost control. “Villains were weaker than I thought.”

Bakugou felt the stare of that one fucking eye and stood firm. He knew he was looking at a suspension, hopefully just for a day or two. It wasn’t like he’d done anything terrible. Villains got hurt sometimes, just like pros did, and they got their care and then they got their justice. It’s not like Bakugou was violent on purpose. Anymore. And Jeanist sure as hell knew that, so it wouldn’t take Bakugou off the field for more than a slap on the wrist. He probably wouldn’t even be technically suspended. Just chained by the fucking dick to his desk with some paperwork.

“Just…” Bakugou braced for it, narrowing his eyes but keeping his snarl to a minimum. “Just be more careful next time. Shower and go home—see you tomorrow.”

Bakugou’s jaw dropped. He closed it quickly, trying not to look like Dunce Face in front of his boss, but in all that was real and true what? He was just about to say something—he didn’t know what, probably something insubordinate—when Best Jeanist took out his own paperwork and waved him away.

“Happy birthday, Bakugou.”

Oh. So that was it.

Bakugou grit his teeth. Happy fucking birthday indeed.

It was nothing. His brain told him over and over again that it was fucking nothing. He hadn’t been punished, he hadn’t even really done anything wrong; he just hadn’t been squeaky clean up to fucking code. He could still show up for work tomorrow, business as usual. He should be tickled fucking pink.

But he wasn’t. Special treatment for being the birthday boy? What was he? Five years old and given a pass after stealing the chicken nuggets off Deku’s plate? Jesus Christ.

And if he was honest, he was mostly pissed at himself. Sure, he could blame how the weather always seemed to sprint from spring to summer around his birthday every year, strengthening his quirk. He could blame the villains for being weak enough that they had no business even stepping foot in his neighborhood. But losing control of his quirk even a little—and it had been a little—was fucking amateur and he’d have to pencil in some extra time at the gym. Maybe snatch Shitty Hair for some sparring, and, unfortunately, probably nab an extra therapy session and talk about this anger thing again.

At least walking instead of sitting on that stifling, crowded train car was doing him some good. Let him cool off a bit before he got home and you saw that something was wrong. He was nearly entirely relaxed by the time he got to his building’s lobby, even having the grace to nod at the concierge—who didn’t know it was his birthday, thank God—before heading up the elevator.

When he got off on his floor, it suddenly occurred to him that you might have done something truly repulsive, like inviting his friends over. He could imagine Shitty Hair’s shitty fucking hair sticking up from behind your sofa as he tried to hide before leaping up and yelling surprise.

Well, if that was the case, then the surprise was going to be him kicking all his dumb friends out of the apartment with one foot. Ain’t no way he was going to host a party on his birthday.

It turned out his worry was for nothing, though, because when he turned the knob—fully braced to punch out some teeth with his other hand—he was greeted with a totally bare apartment.

Like barren.

For starters, it was perfectly clean. Bakugou kept a tidy house normally, but this was certainly cleaner than he’d left it this morning. But more than that, there was nothing extra lying around. No stupid friends. No presents. No cake or even the smell of one. It was almost disconcerting.

No, it was a relief. A relief because he didn’t want any of that stuff. He’d had the slice of cake at work—and was slightly hangry now to show for it—and wasn’t interested in having another. And even though you’d choose better gifts than the extras at work would, it was nothing he couldn’t buy himself. So no, this was perfect. He was absolutely not disappointed. Maybe a bit confused. But not disappointed.

He took his shoes off and set his things on the small table by the door. Then he wandered into the kitchen, downed some water, and thought about what he might make for dinner. He might have expected that you and he would make dinner together or maybe even that you would have surprised him with something, but he didn’t mind doing it alone. It wasn’t like he’d learned to cook just to find a housewife someday to con into doing it all for him.

He decided to go to the bedroom first to plug in his phone. He was just sliding it out of his pocket when he opened the door, saw you, and stopped short.

You were on the bed—not in bed, but on it—wearing a black zip up with his signature orange x over the chest. You were on your knees with your legs spread wide, looking him dead in the eye with a deadly smirk on your face, painted in bright lipstick.

“New prototype. You like?”

The two of you had met when you were scouted from his parents’ business to design the clothing for his first merchandise line. He’d sworn off dating you from the beginning, because the last thing he wanted was to give the old hag anything to say about, firstly, her being at all responsible for finding him a girlfriend or secondly, the fact that dating a fashion designer would mean he was dating his parents. He’d said fuck that to anyone who would listen.

But you’d gotten his brain from the beginning. Your designs were all sick from the sketch to mock up to the prototypes you always wore for him. Maybe he was a simple man for falling for a girl dressed in his colors, aiming to please him, but fuck it. You were talented, too smart for your own good, and pretty as hell.

So what? Now he had a dream girlfriend and one more reason to fight with his mom. Net positive for sure.

Still, that jacket wasn’t a prototype. That was from his first official line, no doubt, and he’d seen you wear it hundreds of times. He knew from here how much it would smell like detergent and how much like you.

You caught his eyes, raised your brows once, and then pulled the zip on the sweatshirt.

Underneath was nothing but lace and ribbon, contrasting the black and orange of the sweatshirt with moss green outlining your silhouette. The moss green from his gauntlets and his belt was caged around you in the thinnest strips of fabric, scraps of floral barely covering your breasts and pussy. The lingerie was an all-in-one, with the tiny bra connected to the panties by a few ribbons crossing over your belly. Not hiding a damn thing, but showing it off for all its worth.

“Fuck,” Bakugou groaned when the sweatshirt hit the bed, your arms still in the sleeves, but the look underneath now fully revealed to him. He could feel the blood going to his dick, just seeing you on display like that getting him up to half mast in seconds.

“Not a lot of coverage on this version,” you mused, sticking your thumb under a bra strap. “Maybe an edit for the second try?”

Bakugou growled, taking a step forward, but you weren’t done just yet.

“I was also thinking maybe full panties next time,” you said, turning around, sitting on your heels. The sweatshirt hung just below your ass, framing round cheeks that were caged by thin elastic crosses, and that was it. Not so much as a triangle of fabric to speak of. “Maybe write: Property of Dynamight on them? Or is that too much text?”

That was all it took for Bakugou to pounce. One arc of his fist had his shirt thrown with a smack to the floor and then his hands were on your shoulders, spinning you face up as he pushed you flat on the bed.

“You know I don’t like unnecessary words,” he growled.

And then he was kissing you, a hand running up the falke stockings pinned on your thighs as you pulled your arms out of the sweatshirt. One leg came up automatically to wrap around his hip, and Bakugou began rutting against your center, fully hard already. On his second grinding thrust, his pants snagged on the scrap of lace you were wearing. Wetness was already glistening on his trousers and he moved his thumb down to your core, groaning at what he felt.

“Crotchless panties?” he mumbled against your mouth. “You’re making this too easy, sweetheart.”

“Shouldn’t have to work so hard on your birthday,” you mewled.

There was a rumble in Bakugou’s throat, half scoff, half chuckle. “Yeah, remind me of that next year, will you?”

You were soaked already—the swipe of his thumb told you that much. Either you’d gotten really excited when he’d texted you that he was coming home early, or you’d…gotten yourself excited at some point after. Either way, it meant that foreplay could wait for round two.

He pulled his thumb away from your core and pressed it against your lip, smudging what lipstick had survived the kisses down your chin. You were half ruined already. You stuck your tongue out and licked at essence on his thumb before sucking it into your mouth, eyes wide as you looked up at him. Fuck, he could feel himself straining against his pants, grinding circles against your half-bare cunt for a spot of relief.

After you licked him clean, he took his hand back, leaving your mouth open and wanting as he began to fuss with the front of his pants. He caught your smudged lips again, holding your jaw with one hand as he pushed his pants down with the other. He pulled his lower half away from you, kicking off the pants—hadn’t bothered with boxers for the commute home—and let them slide off the edge of the bed.

“Ready?” he asked.

Your smile was big and you bit the tip of your tongue, nodding your head twice. That was all he needed. He grabbed his cock in his fist and slid it through your wetness just once, and then he pushed himself in.

Immediately, he felt the drag of something hard and angled against your lower wall right along his cock, pressing from tip to base as he slid home inside of you.

“Woah,” he groaned. “What the fuck?”

You giggled, the action making your walls flutter against him.

“Got myself a new toy,” you said coyly, wrapping your legs around his hips. “Promise you can get yourself something pretty on my birthday too.”

Bakugou reach a hand around your thigh, feeling the elastic garter pulled taut against the stockings that were rubbing so deliciously against his back and his hips. He grabbed a handful of your ass, and the tips of his fingers felt a rounded edge of warm metal slid just between your ass cheeks.

“You fucking naughty minx.” Bakugou grinned, showing all his teeth, rearing back out of you before thrusting back in, feeling the novel pressure of the toy on the way out and back.

No wonder you had been so wet to begin with. You must have lubed yourself up before putting in that butt plug—which wasn’t small, from what he could feel of it. He could imagine you, one leg up on the sink, ass sticking out as you fingered yourself, mouth dropping open when you inserted the toy. How cold it would have been when it first touched your pert little hole and how you’d gotten it all warm for him as you waited with your little secret for him to get home.

“It’s curved to hit prostates,” you gasped as Bakugou rocked hard, steady thrusts into you. “In case you’re interested.”

The thought, much to Bakugou’s surprise, sent a thrill right through his belly down to his dick. He couldn’t help but slam rapidly into you, making your eyes roll back. Fuck, was that something he wanted? It wasn’t something he’d ever thought about, and he didn’t have the mind right now to ponder it.

“God you feel so big.”

“You feel so tight, sweetheart,” Bakugou grunted, refusing to acknowledge the fresh heat that was on his cheeks after your previous comment. “Squeezing me from all sides.”

The butt plug left it so there was barely enough room in your pussy for his cock to pump in and out. The pressure was hard on one side, making him fucking twitch every time the head of his cock caught against it, leading him to opt for long, deep thrusts in and out of you. It was so good that he didn’t even care if the only present he got for his birthday was a little hunk of stainless steel halfway up your ass. He’d gotten home five minutes ago and already he could feel his balls tightening, threatening to bust a nut.

“Just think of it, Katsuki,” you said, your voice dreamy as he fucked you raw. “All the women wearing this set, thinking of you when they show it off for their partners. All wishing that you were the one fucking them. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, baby? But they’ll never have anything but their husband’s sad cock that they pretend is yours.”

“Fuck,” Bakugou growled, putting a hand on the headboard and nearly splintering it in his grip. You were riling him up and it made him want to press his palm flat against the burnished oak and let off his quirk, send shards flying. His hand was already drenched with more sweat than it should have been, just like with those villains earlier. Goddamn this time of year. He couldn’t help it; his quirk begged for it. He was in dire need of release of some kind, and it wasn’t like he could cum yet. He had to know how your pussy felt when it convulsed around him, ass cheeks tensing and squeezing that toy hard against his cock until he was spurting into you.

Bakugou let off a few crackling pops from his palm, moaning as relief filled him, the tension lessened for a moment. A faint smell of wood smoke spread through the room, slightly embittered by the resin blackening around his hand. One more scorch mark on the bed frame. You groaned underneath him, taken by the sight of Bakugou’s ever-tight control slipping for you. You knew he’d fuck you through the bed until the rest of the frame gave way if he wanted. You’d both be flat on a busted mattress and he’d keep going until he felt you clench around him.

“How’s that sound, Katsu?” you continued, your voice growing higher as Bakugou took his hand off the headboard and pressed four fingers, still sweaty and heated from his quirk, against the lace covering your clit. It was soaked through. “A-Ah, you’d like the idea of a woman home alone, dressed up just for you, fucking herself on the dildo she hides in the back of your closet, screaming out your name and hoping to God that her neighbors don’t hear?”

Bakugou couldn’t do the long, slow thrusts anymore. Your legs had grown tighter around his waist, your calves soft and silken against his ass as he kept his thrusts deep. The butt plug was rubbing against the base of his cock as he pounded into you, his fingers swiping over your clit with little finesse, but speed and steady pressure making up for it.

“But no matter…” you continued, the words coming out in little huffs as you panted with your head thrown back. Bakugou couldn’t resist leaning down and licking a line up the length of your neck, biting your earlobe when he got to the top, “no dildo, no matter how expensive, no matter how long and fat, will be good enough. The whole time…they’ll know they’re missing out. Oh, fuck.”

All of a sudden, your thighs were squeezing tight against his hip bones, arms thrown over his back and finger scratching hot lines that would mark him even more as yours tomorrow. Then you were gasping, walls squeezing and Bakugou fought against your grip to pull out just enough so that the metal toy was rubbing just over the cleft of his head with every convulsion.

He didn’t stand a chance. There was hardly any warning before he was cumming into you, streaks of his seed dribbling out of you. He couldn’t even pump himself through it; you were gripping him so tightly and, more than that, he didn’t want to move. Everything was white hot, so he just waited it out, barely moving save for where his hand was still rubbing over your clit.

Eventually you stopped him, grabbing his wrist just as the grip of your cunt loosened around him. Then you brought his hand, glistening with moisture, up to your mouth, and broadly laved your tongue from the base of his fingers to the tips, looking him dead in the eye. You then brought his hand down to your neck, and allowed him to streak the combined fluids across and down your décolletage.

Fuck—there was no way he was going to work on his birthday next year. He’d let villains overtake the city first.

“They’ll know they’re missing out,” you breathed, and it took Bakugou a second to figure out that you were continuing your voyeuristic fantasy from before, playing it out to the end, “They might even think they understand. But the only one who will truly know, is me.”

You smiled, your eyes and grin both heavy, sleepy, sated.

“Got that fucking right,” Bakugou said, pulling out of you, his cum already dripping down your ass. He eyed it, only catching a glimpse of the glinting metal plug before your legs fell to the bed, spread and limp. He smacked your hip lightly with one hand. “Roll over.”

In no mood to argue, you flipped willingly, ass up, plug still hidden from view. The lingerie was damp in some spots from where your wetness had spilled from your pussy. He leaned his mouth towards one of the strips of elastic stretching against the swell of your ass and bit. You gasped, back arching, and Katsuki smirked as he pulled away.

“A fucking lingerie line?”

A chuckle escaped your throat. “It was supposed to be a joke, but now…”

Katsuki pinched the elastic with his fingers and snapped it, watching the slight jiggle of your cheeks as you jolted. “No.”

“But Katsuki,” you whined.

“Mm,” he amended, as close to ‘maybe’ as you were going to get. You both could always talk about the idea—truly ridiculous idea—later. Katsuki put a hand on one cheek under the strips of lingerie and spread it.

There was the plug, a stainless steel handle. It was thin and shaped like an oblong donut, not like one of those cheap bejeweled things. This one, even just what he could see of it, screamed quality, and, for a moment, Bakugou wondered again what it would be like to wear. If you’d gotten it in, he sure as fuck could. And he did hold a certain anatomical advantage in using it.

He put his thumb and forefinger to the phalange and gave the toy a twist, pressing it just slightly deeper into your hole. You groaned, your voice low and deep in the pillow like when he gave you a back massage. He smirked and kept at it. Seemed this was a birthday gift for him after all.

“Katsu, don’t tease,” you moaned. “Sensitive.”

Bakugou, however, had no mercy. He flipped you over again, pulling a little yelp from you, and then picked you up bridal style, carrying you off the bed.

“Where are we going?” you asked, your voice suddenly much more awake.

“Shower,” he answered simply. He squeezed the meat of your upper thigh. Not quite your ass but close enough for the point to be made. “I’m not done with my present yet.”

#bakugou smut #bakugo smut #bnha smut #mha smut #tw: voyeurism #not/sfw #bakugou birthday bash

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youreyeslookliketheocean · 3 years ago

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youreyeslookliketheocean’s DSMP Fic Recs!!

Figured it was about time for one of these... :)

Mostly SBI-centric because they’re my favorite dynamic. I’ll probably add to this list as time goes on, and I also want to go back through my ao3 history and find some lesser-known fics I really enjoyed to rec them all. But for now...

* oneshot ** unfinished work

** the lights go out (my heart goes still) by curseworm

With his old home unwelcoming and his new one gone, Tommy is alone. After hours of staggering through the freezing snow, he finds a cabin.

Technoblade’s cabin.

He hides himself away in the deepest corner he can find, taking only what he needs to survive, wasting away in the cold and the dark. He’s petrified at the thought of being found out, terrified of what he thinks Techno would do to him.

When Techno finds his injured teenage brother huddled in a filthy little cave beneath his basement, the rage he feels is immeasurable. The voices demand blood, and blood he will give them. Dream won’t be getting away with this one.

(On the other side of the world, in a country that floats on a man-made lake, Philza gets himself in a bit of a pickle.)

** The hearth down under by Crystalquill

A tiny change gives Tommy the courage to flee to the Nether instead of the cold tundra, finding an unlikely ally in the midst of a fiery hellscape.

But tiny changes can alter the course of history. The SMP will never be the same.

(Lots of cool Nether worldbuilding in this one!!)

to be a wanderer, wandering by hydrangeasheart

Tommy's feet drag in the snow.

It's so, so cold. He's so cold. His toes are freezing. His exposed shins feel like they’ve been cut open-- even the one that’s bandaged. His wings have gone numb, which is almost, almost good, because now he can’t feel the shifting, broken bones inside of the left one, just under feathers and muscle.

He doesn’t know why he’s still walking.

Or, Tommy leaves the exploded ruins of Logstedshire behind, and walks until he finds somewhere safe.

And things keep going from there.

(A canon-divergent AU, splitting off somewhere around when Tommy started hiding out below Techno's house.)

that’s, like, a hundred miles by No_one_you_know (and then “as long as i’m here”, and “he’s my brother, i just raise him”)

Dream would kill him. Dream was going to kill him- he was going to- no, he wouldn’t. Dream was his friend- friends don’t hit each other- Dream was supposed to take care of him- Dream /was/ taking care of him.

It hurt to breathe. It hurt to think. He couldn’t clear his thoughts as he stumbled to the family computer, pulling up a tab on google and frantically typing the name into the search bar.

The words Technoblade Watson stared back at him, the little black bar at the end of the letters blinking slowly, mocking him.

Why, of all people, did it have to be Technoblade?

in short: the one where dream sucks as a parental figure, tommy runs away, and visits his least favorite family member technoblade.

passerine by thcscus(blujamas)

Do I really need to put the summary here? Pretty much everyone knows this fic. Also, though, if you enjoy this one you should totally read thcscus’ connected fic, “shrike”!! It’s only at 2 chapters right now but it’s already really good and has this dark, foresty aesthetic I love...

not with a bang but with a whimper by dip_dyed_ghost

He knows Tubbo doesn’t care about him anymore. He knows that. He’s been shown that. But it doesn’t stop Tommy from caring about him. He brushes the pads of his fingers over the compass’s glass and wonders how he’s doing, if he’s tired of it all yet, if he needs help. He watches the way it points strongly in the direction over the ocean. He hopes he’s alright.

Even after everything, he hopes he’s alright.

During his exile, Tommy finds a drugged and hurt Tubbo on his doorstep. He can’t not help him.

(This one has a neat take on potions, in my opinion. Also it’s only 4 chapters so it’s a quick read!)

take this compass, follow it home by lightning_anon

Tommy's a fuck up, he can't pay attention, and never sits still. He taps his hands, pushes people away, and has never had a best friend. He's a screwed up, forgotten kid lost in the foster system. He's also just been placed with a new family. Tommy knows how this goes, he never ends up staying long. After all, no one wants a fuck up like him.

Why would this house be any different?

Or: the obligatory sleepy bois foster fic, but with a focus on the neurodivergent kids that inevitably get lost in the system.

(Genuinely want to see more books like this in original fiction. It’s part of what inspired my newest og wip, “To Build a Home.” So sweet and I feel like I had my eyes opened to some neurodivergent tendencies I never knew existed. I read this in a day and can’t rec it enough.)

bloodlines by youreyeslookliketheocean

Tommy’s an orphan on the run from his previous guardian. Philza’s a king who prides himself on keeping his kingdom in an era of peace. Wilbur’s the crown prince, and Techno’s right beside him as his adopted brother. When Phil’s kingdom of Pogtopia is threatened by the bloodvines—a strange, brainwashing plant infecting many of the surrounding kingdoms—the four must work together to keep the kingdom, and their family, safe. --- A royal au sbi fic... + the bloodvines, for spice.

(Yes I’m self-promoting. But, in my defense, I’m very proud of it. If you checked it out it would mean the world to me :’))

Heat Waves by tbhyourelame

Dream has always held a gentle admiration for George, but when their nuanced friendship trickles into his sleeping mind, he awakens to a new world of conflicting emotions and longing. Lost in the midst of a heat wave, he continuously listens to a song that works itself in to the very core of his heartache. Floridian nights, unsent messages, spiraling infatuation, and terrible, terrible weather.

Another fic I think pretty much everyone knows about. Listen, listen... I was once an idiot who said “Oh no, I’ll never read Heat Waves. It’s irl, not characters, and it’s probably cringe”... No. I was so wrong. This fic is wonderfully written, with a pretty quick moving plot and great characterizations. You do need an ao3 account to access it, though. Just to let you know. (Also read “Helium”, unfinished and hasn’t updated in awhile, but it’s the continuation).

Guitar Strings and Keyrings are What it Takes to Build a Home by Anonymous

Techno was adopted by Phil when he was 12 years old.

He'd been enjoying his morning before Phil came to him asking if he would mind them taking in another kid. Against his better judgement, Techno agrees and ends up with two new foster brothers who he was determined to not get attached to, no matter what.

Tommyinnit’s unbeatable method of avoiding sudden death by eneliii

“I uh,” Tommy starts, not knowing how to break this to the hero lightly. He hates to be the bearer of bad news. “I think your powers are broken? It’s not a bad thing of course, but like, I swear you tried to mind control me and it like, totally failed. Which is fine, honestly, don’t feel insecure. Everyone’s power stop working sometimes… I think.”

Sheesh, this is very awkward. Why is no one else talking? Why is Philza looking at him like he grew three heads? Why is the Blade staring at him so intensely? Why is Willow still frozen?

“Did I, did I hit a nerve? Yikes,” Tommy hisses, “Well um,” He steps back, bracing his legs and bending his knees, “This was like super fun, but I’m - I’mma head out.”

or,

in which Tommy manages to annoy the hell out of Phil, Techno and Wilbur by being both impossible to catch and irritatingly endearing.

or or,

a crack fic where Tommy is a vigilante and Phil, Techno and Wilbur are the heroes hunting him down.

(Feel like I am obligated to say how incredibly funny this fic is. Seriously. I have a distinct memory of sitting on my neighborhood park’s swing, giggling hysterically, while reading this. Well...until the end... but we won’t get into that...)

** bones in the ocean by bunflower

“Your reputation precedes you, y’know.”

“Does it, now?” Philza watches him coyly from where he’s now leaning against the wall, arms folded around his chains and gaze half-lidded, his lips curled in an arrogant, cat-like smirk.

“The Angel of Death, the ferryman of the Styx, the terror of the western seas. One of the most feared captains ever to sail, and yet, I have to wonder… how did a man like you end up all on his own? We searched the area where you were found—not another soul in sight. So,” He fixes him with a long look, allowing the silence to hover like a dark cloud, the words rolling off of his tongue with all the venom and smugness he can muster, “—tell me, Philza. Where is your crew?”

OR: Technoblade is a naval captain, and Phil his unwilling prisoner. Somehow, they manage to come out of it as friends in the end.

(Is this fic considered popular like passerine/Heat Waves now? Cause I feel like it’s reputation precedes itself, at this point... Pirate au.)

****

Okay! That’s it for now. Like I said, though, I want to add to this over time and also dig back for some older things I’ve read. Also, if you have any recs feel free to send them in! I’m about to go back to school and therefore might not have time for reading fun stuff, but whenever I get the chance I’d love to check them out!!!

Happy Reading!!

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miss-may-i · 3 years ago

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Reminiscing about The Sims

📷 Share how you discovered the sims franchise & the very first sims game you played (e.g. ts2)

I was tagged by @sheepiling so thank you!

The first Sims game I played was, well, The Sims. I had two older sisters that bought it and shared a computer and even though I was really little, they’d help me play. I couldn’t have been more than 3 or 4 at the time so I didn’t know how to spell. They’d put in the rosebud cheat for me and help me name my Sims. My oldest sister really loved building houses for me so I’d always watch her do that. Now that I think about it, that was the only thing us three sisters ever did together as kids.

I was six when the Sims 2 came out, so a little older. My middle sister had lost interest in the Sims by then so it became my oldest sister and me sharing a copy. And by “sharing” I mean most of the time she would play and I would sit there and watch. But once she started going to college I had more time to play Sims 2 by myself after school. Seriously, the second I would get off the bus I would go right to Sims 2. My childhood sucked and the Sims was a great way to drown out my parents constantly fighting.

For the Sims 2, I would always make my own neighborhood. Driftwood was the templet I always used and would build it from the ground up. I would use a few community lots, but for the most part, I made all the sims and the houses. And my little town expanded further and further as expansions came out. My favorite Sims 2 expansions were Bon Voyage, Apartment Life, and Pets.

Finally, I was 11 when the Sims 3 game out, and I didn’t even know that it did until I was at Game Stop with my mom getting a birthday present for my brother and I saw Sims 3 for sale with World Adventure. I had a good bit of money saved up from things like babysitting, lawn mowing, selling cans and I never wanted to buy anything, but I did decide to buy the Sims 3. The first time I played it, I HATED it. It was so different from the Sims 2! I couldn’t make a blank world, only Sunset Valley. So I actually bulldozed all the houses and kicked all the Sims out. As you could imagine, it took a long time to completely rebuild Sunset Valley. But then it was finally time to play. Except, when my Sims started aging up when I wasn’t playing them, I pretty much had a mental breakdown. Like all the work I put in was for nothing. After that, I actually didn’t play the Sims 3 for a couple of years and returned to Sims 2.

One day I was talking to my brother about the Sims and I mentioned how I wishes Sims 2 had an open world like Sims 3. So he asked, “why not just play Sims 3 then?” and I said that I didn’t like how the sims aged without you playing them. And well, that’s when I learned you can turn off aging. I’ve been playing the Sims 3 ever since!

For the longest time I didn’t have a set family to play with. The cycle was that a new expansion would come out and I would make a single Sim, playing her until the next expansion came out and I would make a new one. It wasn’t until long after the Sims 3 series ended that I made Julian. The resort feature that came with Island Paradise was one of my favorite things the game ever added. I, of course, would make beach resorts. But then I’d start making bed and breakfasts, cheap motels, and eventually cabin lodges. That was when Julian was created and eventually Miss May I would be born!

Sims 4 we don’t talk about on this blog.

I’m tagging @wannabecatwriter @desimetto @lumminade @whyhellosims @

#Reminiscing about The Sims #sims #ts #simblr #ts3 #ts3 simblr

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jean-kayak · 4 years ago

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Sweet Treat

Summary: Who knew brownies could get you the best dick of your life

Pairing: Ojiro Aran x black!fem!reader

Warnings: (smut 18+!!), unprotected sex, fingering (f.receiving), oral (f.receiving), ass smacking, little bit of dirty talk

Word Count: 2012

A/N: I had this come to me randomly, and I have enough things in my head so enjoy some Aran smut

You were back home, a newly graduated college student working on finding a job, so you were mostly at your parents' house, findings jobs for babysitting or dog sitting to pass the time.

You currently scrolling on your phone, laying on the couch on your back when your mom comes into the room, and you look up from your phone. "Are those brownies for me?" you ask playfully as she stands at the end of the couch, rolling her eyes.

"They're for the neighbors," she says, and you frown at her. "They moved in a little while before you came back home. I want you to go take it to them."

She holds the pan out and you sit up. "Why do I have to do it?"

"To welcome them to the neighborhood, of course," her voice telling you that there's no room for argument, and you sigh as you stand, shoving your phone into the back pocket of your shorts.

You walk over to her, and she hands you the pan with a loving smile on her face and you return it with a sarcastic one that makes her laugh. You make your way out the door, grimacing slightly at the sudden heat on your skin as you make the short walk next door.

You knock on the door before shifting your weight onto one foot as you sigh, realizing that you don't even know if they're actually home. Luckily, you hear the lock being turned, and once the door starts opening, your brain is on autopilot as you hold the pan out slightly, the words like clockwork to you.

"Hi, welcome to the..."

You trail off as your mouth falls open, your arms dropping slightly as your eyes take in the hottest guy you've definitely ever seen in your entire life. Your eyes run down his ridiculously fit torso, his hands in the pockets of his shorts that are totally too small for the size of his thighs.

"Well, hello to you, too." His voice makes you jump, realizing that your eyes were just roaming over his body, and your face flushes warm in embarrassment, and your body follows when you see him doing the same thing with a smirk on his face.

You hold your arms out, lifting the pan his way. "Uh, brownies. My mom made, um--to welcome you to the neighborhood." It's not normal for you to struggle to find your words, but you expected an older couple, maybe, but not a fucking supermodel.

He huffs softly at you, his smirk turning into an easy smile as he takes the pan from you. "Thank you so much. Brownies are my favorite."

His voice is so smooth, deep, and it literally feels like it's running over you as easily as water. When he grabs the pan, his bicep flex, your eye is drawn to it instantly as you chew your lip softly.

"Yeah, no problem," you say, your voice a little louder this time even though you're still not over the initial shock of how good-looking he is.

He gestures his head inside. "You wanna split these? I can't eat 'em all by myself."

"Oh, no. It's fine. You're probably busy or..." You trail off as you wave your hand, and you find yourself already giving in when he chuckles.

"Seriously, it's cool. I'm not doing anything," he reassures, and you respond with a nod as he steps to the side to let you in. You hear the door close behind you, and he's walking past you towards the kitchen, and your eyes start to shut at how good he smells, but then they narrow in on his back, which is nothing but muscle.

"The name's Aran," he tells you as he pulls the tinfoil off the pan, and oh right. You're having not-so-mature thoughts about a complete stranger and you didn't even know his name. "So, what else are you doing besides trying to stay cool during this hot ass day?" he asks after you tell him your name, his question making you chuckle lightly.

"Well, I just graduated college, so I'm working on finding a job right now," you answer, and he nods as he takes an already cut piece out.

"Same here. My parents run a convenience store, and I help out sometimes." He breaks the piece in half before placing them on a napkin. "I'm pretty sure I could get you a spot there," he adds as he turns around.

"Oh, you don't have to do that," you reply as he hands you a piece.

"It's no big deal. Think of it as thanks for the brownies," he offers with a wink, and you respond with a soft smile as you accept the piece.

You notice that he's a lot closer than you remember, and you're surprised you're not drooling over him. Granted, you probably are, but you can cover that up with the baked good.

You eat your half, your eyes staying on his as you watch him eat his half. You find yourself taking a deep breath to compose yourself when he moans around the brownie that he's chewing. "Oh my God, this is amazing."

You chuckle softly as you chew on your piece with a nod. "Yeah, my mom always makes them really sweet," you add, and you gasp softly when he moves closer to you, his arms caging you between him and the counter.

"They are, but," he starts, his voice low as he tilts his head down. "I bet you'd taste even sweeter." Your mouth drops open, your legs squeezing together subconsciously. You can barely find a response but then he's speaking again. "You wanna let me find out?"

His voice seems to be even deeper than before, and you find yourself nodding without even realizing probably still trying to relish in the fact that there's a crazy hot guy standing in front of you, and he just asked if he could eat you out.

You're soon knocked out of your trance when you feel his lips on yours, but your lips are molding together instantly. His hands move from the counter onto your hips before they slowly slide under your shirt, his huge palms warm against your stomach.

You guide his hands down to your shorts as he deepens the kiss, his deft fingers quickly unbuttoning your shorts and working them down your thighs. You're quick to hop onto the counter, and he's tearing your shorts off your legs before pushing you down so your back is flat against the cold surface.

You don't if you jump because of the sudden coolness or the fact that he's already slipped your panties down your legs. He takes a good look at your dripping pussy, spreading your legs a little before diving in.

His tongue is flicking through your folds with tenacity, breathing in deeply before groaning loudly. His eyes stay closed, savoring your taste as he sucks at your clit, bringing his fingers up to slide into your hole. "Fuck, you taste sweeter than candy, baby," he moans, continuing to lick through your folds and at your clit as he thrusts his fingers in and out of you at a quick pace.

You can barely comprehend what he's saying, your legs closing around his head when he aggressively pushes on your g-spot, your hands weakly attempting to find something to hold onto as your back arches. You don't know how much time has passed, but you're pretty sure this is the fastest you're about to cum.

"Aran--fuck," you try and tell him, but you can't even speak, and he pushes your leg to the side.

"Come on, baby girl, I want it all," he says against your folds, the vibrations only taking you higher. One more push at both of those bundles of nerves, and your back is arching further off the counter as you cum, Aran making sure he gets every last drop.

Your body wants to go limp, but he keeps going, addicted to the way you taste, and your body trembles at the overstimulation. You whine softly, and he finally relents. "Sorry, sweetheart," he starts with a smirk. "You just taste so good."

You huff softly as you look at him, and when he stands up straight, he beckons you towards him with the curl of fingers that are coated in your wetness. You slowly manage to lift yourself on your elbows, and he helps you the rest of the way.

He guides his fingers to your mouth as he licks around his to taste more of you while you lick his fingers clean, yourself the only thing you can taste. "You taste sweeter than those brownies, don't you?"

You nod softly, and he's grinning at you as he pulls them from your mouth, stepping in between your legs again, his face inches from yours. "You gonna let me fuck this sweet, little cunt of yours?"

Your nod this time is quicker. "Yes, please fuck me," you beg, and he's pulling you off the counter, your eyes zeroing in on the massive bulge in his shorts before he's turning you around and pushing your front half flush against the counter.

He pushes his shorts and underwear down his thighs, rubbing his head at your folds as he rubs your back softly. "You ready?" You're nodding quickly, turning your head to look at him, but your eyes are soon closing as you feel him stretching you out. "God--you're so fucking tight," he groans, and he steadies his hands on your hips as he pushes the rest of the way in.

He doesn't move as soon as he bottoms out, but he doesn't deny you when you start bucking back against him. One hand grips your hip while the other twists your hair into his grip, and then he's pulling out until only the tip is in before slamming back into you.

The sound of your moans and skin slapping together filled the kitchen, and he delivers a few smacks to your ass before gripping the flesh in his palm, moving it so that he can watch himself stretch out your cunt. He bites his lip when he sees his dick shiny with your juices, all of it starting to accumulate at the base of his dick and dripping down his balls.

This is the most stretched out you've ever felt, feeling every thick vein rub against your gushy walls just the right way, your legs threatening to buckle. The closer you get to your climax, the more you clench around him, and he abandons the grip on your hair to grab at your other hip, thrusting into you with more enthusiasm.

He throws his head back as a guttural moan leaves his throat, his orgasm building up at the base of his spine fast. "Jesus, baby, I'm close," he rasps, taking another look at your ass jiggling every time his hips meet yours, and he interprets your incoherent moans as you saying you're close too, and he reaches under you to rub wet, quick circles at your clit.

"Go ahead, baby girl, let that sweet cunt milk my dick," he growls, sweat dripping down his brow as he looks at you, and he rams into your g-spot a couple more times, and you're screaming against the counter as you cum hard, your pussy clamping around him so hard, it triggers his orgasm.

He fucks you through your highs, his seed coating your walls before he slowly stops. Your heavy breathing is all that can be heard as he leans down over you, giving you soft kisses as his hands move up over yours, lacing his fingers with yours.

You chuckle softly when he pulls away, still dazed from your mind-blowing orgasm, making him follow. "You okay?" he asks, his lips brushing against yours.

"I'm more than okay," you muse, your breathing still a little ragged, and he smiles widely before kissing you again.

"So," he starts. "You wouldn't happen to have any more sweet treats, would you?"

Fun fact: I have two drabbles planned that take place in the same timeline as this lmfao

Tags: @iwascrybaby, @mxhriii, @cinnitsuki

#aran ojiro #ojiro aran #aran smut #aran ojiro smut #ojiro aran smut #ojiro aran x black reader #aran ojiro x black reader #aran ojiro x reader #ojiro aran x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #hq!!#hq #haikyuu smut #haikyuu!! smut #hq!! smut #hq smut #🛶.hoarny

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bbydclls · 3 years ago

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rayne here again !! with my other muse who has also been hidden away in my brayne . there’s a lot of work and development that she needs to go through and i’m super excited to have that happen for her through willow !!

( coco jones , female , she / her , twenty one ) $$$ — i'm pretty sure i just saw DESIRÉE MONET headed out of the estate . it's weird though … i didn't see them with their DISPOSABLE CAMERA . i didn't know they left the house without it . i feel like i can never catch them ; they're always so busy … guess that makes sense since they're a YOUTUBER - STREAMER / INFLUENCER . have you met them yet ? they live in JUNIPER DRIVE , so you might've missed them . i think you'd like them a lot , actually . i swear their aura is PINK , and that seems like your vibe . maybe you'll get lucky and run into them sometime . i can always tell when they're coming up the hill ‘cause they're constantly blasting BABYDOLL by ARI ABDUL … it's pretty much their anthem at this point , so if you hear it , you'll know they're around . y'know , the other day , i saw a tabloid with them on the front page that said " FROM FANDOM TO FAME : HERE'S DESIRÉE MONET'S THREE TIPS ON FOLLOWING YOUR DREAMS “ … do you think that's true ? guess we'll see what the neighborhood watch thinks !

、 ⠀ ་ ⸼ ⸒ ✴ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 ›

full name : desirée lorraine monet

nicknames : dez , dezzie

age : twenty - one

occupation : youtuber ( vlogger ) + occasional streamer & influencer

birthplace : LA , california

orientation : pansexual

lives in : juniper drive

、 ⠀ ་ ⸼ ⸒ ✴ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 ›

first things first , desirée is the youngest of the three monet sisters with charlotte being the middle and yvette being the oldest . and they grew up as quite a trio .

with her dad being a cop and her mom being a nurse who never knew how to say no when asked to come in , it was no wonder the sisters grew close over their years spent together growing up . it was the three against the world .

they practically coddled her when she was younger . being a kid growing up with parents who were always gone and with one who always had his life on the line ( because you never know what could happen in the blink of an eye ) , des was always a little anxious , a little paranoid . her sisters had to reassure her that everything was fine & that their parents would always be home in time for dinner .

unlike her two older sisters , she had never come face to face with their dad’s tough way of loving them . she was the youngest after all , the baby , and that just seemed to make her perfect in the eyes of her father .

their mother swore up and down that she didn’t have a favorite out of her three daughters and it was easy to see that she meant it but with their dad ... he could say he didn’t have one but he never was good at hiding that it was a lie .

she grew up being able to do no wrong . it didn’t get to her head . she really was a good kid growing up . too scared of her dad being mad at her for getting bad grades so she always kept them up , loved by her teachers , not quite the straight A student but a few B’s here and there weren’t the end of the world .

her teachers did have to have a few conferences with her parents to discuss her bad habit of talking with her peers in class when she should’ve been paying attention . but what can you do ? she loved to talk

and more than that , she loved to gossip .

that’s exactly how she met her high school best friends and they were the ones who had her kick off her youtube career . well , technically it was their youtube career . yknow , as a collective .

it started off with her and her four friends venturing abandoned buildings and haunted locations which she had been absolutely crazy about . but as all good things do , it fell apart after they all graduated and went their separate ways . she kept with making videos though .

with both her sisters being incredibly creative individuals she fell into the habit of comparing herself to them . she couldn’t paint or draw like yvette could and she definitely wasn’t as good at singing ( or writing music ) as charlie . she felt like she was at a standstill with her lack of talents and their multitude of them . so she kept with making videos .

whatever she thought of to film she did --- makeup reviews , clothing hauls , she even had a couple videos of her judging met gala outfits ... she gained a following at a fairly quick pace .

her all time favorite video that she’s ever done though was when she interviewed her sister charlie . i mean , charlie is her all time favorite person in the world . wouldn’t you be stoked to interview your role model after looking up to them for so long ? i mean like yea it’s different since they’re literally sisters but that doesn’t change the fact that it meant everything to her that she got to make that video with her sister .

now with quite the number of subscribers and one hell of a following on tiktok , desirée can safely call herself an influencer .

her favorite thing to do though with her career is interview other people . she even has an entire channel dedicated to interviews . and ! she’s even in the midst of starting her own podcast . because let me tell you , this girl truly does love to talk .

、 ⠀ ་ ⸼ ⸒ ✴ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 ›

honestly desirée’s personality can be summed up into two words : she’s sweet .

if you need someone to talk to about anything , she’s your girl . she’s probably one of the least judgmental people you could ever meet because she knows better than to judge people when it’s not her place to .

she likes to talk . not like , love . you could get her going in any conversation and she’ll take you down a rabbit hole until you’re talking about something so far from the original topic you had .

literally she’s just an extremely friendly person . her biggest fear is knowing there’s people out there that don’t like her because she really does try her hardest to be nice to everyone she meets . even if they don’t deserve it .

not to say that she’s nice all the time --- she’s only human , of course she has her bad days . she’ll snap at you if you catch her on one but i promise you she’d apologize immediately after .

i wouldn’t say she’s a flirty kind of person but she can be quite the romantic if she wanted to be . her standards are high from years of watching cheesy romcoms with happy endings + she grew up with parents who always seemed very in love whenever they were together . can you really blame her for having high standards ?

she’s not the type to actively search out for romance , she just likes being friendly with people yk ?

and to go along with friendly her love languages are acts of service and gift giving so don’t be surprised if she shows up when you’re doing something just to help or do it for you , with a complimentary coffee in her hand for you .

、 ⠀ ་ ⸼ ⸒ ✴ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐬 ›

i know it deep down in my heart that desirée has a pet hamster . i feel it in my bones and it feels right . and he’s named something stupid : hammy ( short not for hamster , but for hamburger )

the one thing des will never walk out of her house without is a disposable camera . she loves taking pictures when she’s out and about because , usually , she’s out with friends not by herself . she always wants to be prepared to catch important moments .

and she’s in the influencer house here in juniper lane . so like there’s that LMFDSKLJF

#◟ ⋆ 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐥 › about !#now that's a lot of words #i'm never doing this much again #but probably will add more later

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stackthedeck · 3 years ago

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Tell me about that house. Their kids, their cats, their lizard. What kind of lizard is it? Does Aunt May watch the kids on date night? Have they been given the most heartmeltingly ridiculously nerdy names? What is MJ up to?

listen here's my lukewarm take but Peter Parker just wants to be normal. He's not a hero because he's looking for glory or praise, he's doing it because he can and therefore should. Spider-Man is not a career, it is a hobby and he's going to settle down one day if he can

So maybe in some universe, Norman doesn't turn himself into the green goblin, maybe Harry goes to therapy and lets someone else run Oscorp. Idk how it happens but Harry and Peter get married and buy a little house in Queens not far from Aunt May and Uncle Ben's place because that neighborhood has always felt more like home to Harry than whatever stuffy mansion Norman raised him in. Harry just adores that there are people present in his life. No matter how late he has to stay up, Peter always comes home to him. He never has to worry about if he's measuring up because Harry will always be enough for Peter.

Now I think Harry Osborn is a cat person and I don't think anyone is going to argue this point. Harry can be outgoing, but he prefers that quiet one on one time. Like people with daddy issues get cats that's just the rules of life. They get the dumbest cuddliest orange cat they can find and they name it flash. I can't explain it, but Peter Parker has reptile person energy. Guys that are into very specific sciences and are genuinely good people have some kind of pet reptile, I've never been proven wrong. I think they'd have a crested gecko because they're relatively low maintenance and they're busy people but they're also so sweet once they're comfortable with you. Also, they love climbing and jumping and I think it'd be really cute if Peter and this gecko just hung out on the ceiling together. Harry tries to get Peter to name it Curtis, this is soundly rejected. They decide to name her Lex after the girl from Jurassic Parker because I don't care what time period the spider-man story is set, Peter is a 90s kid.

Also I think they'd adopt older kids. Because Peter is out here doing superhero shit and every other hero has the heartbreaking backstory of dead parents and being tossed around the system till they get powers or are sponsored by a billionaire. But how many kids are in the same situation but don't get powers or are drawn to the dark side instead of the good guys. And like yeah, Peter started doing superhero shit too young as well, but as he gets older the grim reality of that hits harder. So Harry and Peter foster and obviously they can't adopt every kid that passes through their home, but they want to give them everything they need to build the best life they can, even if it's just for a little bit. The kids they do adopt are already too old to change their names, but they ask for suggestions for their middle names, or maybe their trans and want to change their first name too and Peter suggests Ben and May (obviously) but also just the names of fallen heroes and just normal New Yorkers that have helped Spider-Man throughout the years. Harry is the best dad ever even though is terrified that he's going to fuck up the kids. He's constantly scared of acting out like his father, but he's always there for his kids and they feel comfortable telling him anything and he listens. They have enough money from Harry's trust fund and Oscorp that they're comfortable and finally Peter doesn't have to worry about money, but they don't spoil their kids, mostly because Norman used buying things for Harry as a way to skip actually showing affection. They're an "only getting gifts on birthdays and holidays" family. Peter is a "do your homework" kind of dad and Harry is an "I don't feel like going into the office today so you're skipping school and we're going to the zoo and getting ice cream" kind of dad. Also, Harry is the king of the PTA, he only brings the finest homemade baked goods to the school bake sale. And obviously, Aunt May watches the kids, she comes over uninvited (well, she's always invited of course) to hang out with them and the kids agree, Peter's aunt is way cooler than him.

MJ in this universe is still close with Harry and Peter and you know I'm not opposed to a polycule but maybe she didn't have time to settle down. Maybe her own parents' constant fighting just put her off the idea of marriage and commitment. And of course, she loves Peter and Peter loves her, but they just couldn't mesh like that, but they're still friends. MJ pursues her dreams to become a Broadway actress and she is an absolute star, Peter and Harry go to see her opening night of every show. Eventually, she decides she's meant for bigger and better things. She writes and directs her own plays and musicals, she's the biggest name in the industry and she writes a Spider-Man musical and it's a smashing success. And maybe she and Gwen Stacy have a thing since we're just creating the perfect universe. They all meet up for drinks at least once a month if not once a week. And sure, Harry and Peter are married, but they're friends first and Peter has built a family out of his friends and when he has Harry, MJ, and Gwen all together, everything is perfect.

#asks #I just want them to be happy #and like obviously the white picket fence life doesn't make everyone happy #but Peter wants that apple pie life so bad

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leewritesstuff · 4 years ago

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Keeping Up With The Hollands | 02

Summary: You and Tom were offered to document your life since you are both famous in the entertainment industry. Now as you got older you left the entertainment industry and head for the medical field. How difficult can it be? Also, did I mention that you have kids?

Previous | CHAPTER 02 | Next

Series Masterlist

VIDEO: The Return of Superman (Triplets Special)

WORDS: 3.0K

WARNING: [ narrator thoughts/edit ] , {scene switch/confession}

Was supposed to be uploaded yesterday but because Tumblr was being an ass, it deleted 2K OF THE FUCKING WORDS. Had to start over.

[ 1 , 2 , 3 , 4 + 1 (adult)]

Tom got off the bed and sat in the middle, watching his four boys sleep. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he leans down and gave each of the boys a kiss.

"They're angels when they're asleep, but once they get up its chaos.."

He heads straight to the kitchen to prepare their breakfast, wasting no time. He stood in front of the fridge trying to figure out what they could eat. He decided on simple eggs and sausage.

{switch}

In the other room, whines could be heard, Tom heard the noise and enters the room quietly, trying not to wake the others

"Pa, Pa!"

He picked up the boy, give his cheeks a kiss and head to the kitchen.

"Where is Maxton?" Tom asked making the child smile.

"Here"

{switch}

Maxton Rolland Holland: 27 months old

Youngest of the four

The shyiest but artistic one out of the group. Can always be found painting or drawing.

"Here, here I am. Pa"

Max notices the camera in the house, watching them with a curious gaze. He poked his father's back, trying to gain his attention.

"What's that?" He questions, Tom looks around and smiled at what he was pointing at. "Not sure bub, what do you think it is?"

"Dinosaur~"

Tom laughed at that, he put the boy down and watched as he runs to the camera, he watched as Max licked the camera, "Oi, don't lick that. It's not to eat"

Nodding towards his father, he went to poke it instead. Maxton was amazed by the camera.

[ There are so many dinosaurs...]

Max went to the other end of the room and played with the other set of 'dinosaurs'. When the camera moved, Maxton froze, wondering if he was seeing things. He was surprised. He carefully studies the 'dinosaur' He moved around and watched as the camera moves with him.

Feeling a bit scared, he goes to the joint kitchen, to stay with his father. He goes to his high chair and climbs on it. He watched as Tom prepares the food.

"You hungry?"

"Yes"

As Tom scrambles the egg, Max started singing, "Food, food, food, food~"

{switch}

Hearing Maxton's loud singing, Chase got up from his sleep. He sat on the bed, watching the room.

Chase Spencer Holland: 27 Months old

Eldest of the four

The most bold and athletic one out of the four.

Tom came into the room and picked him up, giving him a good morning kiss on his cheeks. "Chase is up"

He carried the boy to the living room watching as Maxton run past him. Chase grabbed the vacuum cleaner from the living room and handed it to his father, he jumped when Tom put it on.

"Let's catch Chase," Tom said as he ran around trying to catch the boy with the vacuum. The loud screams woke up Edward who was now standing by the fence. Realizing that no one is paying attention to him, he shakes up the fence making even more noise.

"Papa! Papa! Papa, open!" Tom quickly goes to the fence and open it, releasing the boy.

Edward Hunter Holland: 27 Months Old

The second child of the four.

The strongest and musical one.

He watched as Edward runs to the camera. Being the mischievous boy he is, he knocked on the camera lens.

"Hey, hey! No. Don't do that" He cheekily smiled at Tom then ran away.

{switch/confession}

"I'm really not sure how Y/N did it...it's only 7:30 and I'm tired"

{switch}

Hearing Tom's yell woke up the last sleeping child. Jacob walked quietly to the fence and stood there watching everyone playing.

Jacob Jaxton Holland: 27 months old

The third child of the four.

The outgoing one, always ready to talk to people.

He watched as his father ignores him and goes into the kitchen.

[ Someone notice me please... ]

Chase, while he was walking he notices his other brother behind the fence. He runs into the kitchen and grabs Tom's attention. He grabbed his hands and carried him to the fence.

"Ah, sorry. I told you to let me know if you're up okay?"

Tom grabbed his four children and carried them to the kitchen so that they could have their breakfast.

After eating, Tom tried brushing the boy's teeth, keyword tried. Maxton and Jake didn't like brushing their teeth. Tom had to lock Maxton between his legs, trapping the boy in order to brush his teeth.

When the boys were dressed, Tom heads into the kitchen to clean up the mess they had made. his room to change into his outwear. While he was doing that, Chase, Ed, Jake, and Max was in the other room playing with their toys. Chase and Jake were in the corner playing with the building blocks while Maxton was in the folding mat laying down. Edward, being the mischievous one, took the end of the mat and flipped it over, turning Maxton over. He then stands on top of the mat, crushing his brother.

Hearing Maxton cry, Tom enters the room and frowns at the scene. He grabbed Edward's hand and pulled him off of the mat, then with his free hand, he went to pick up the crying child.

"Ed, Ed. Stop picking on your little brother. Go hug him, now" Seeing that the boy didn't want to listen, he pushed the two boys together, trying to make them hug. That made Ed cry, not wanting to cooperate, Tom took him into the other room, excluding him from the playroom and put him in the corner.

"Listen. you can not be bullying your little brother. That's not what brothers do. You wouldn't like someone doing that to you right?"

"N-No..."

"Good, now I want you to go inside and say you're sorry" Nodding his head, Ed grabbed Tom's hand and they both head back to the playroom. Tom watched as Ed runs up to his brother and hugs him. Maxton being the soft one out of the four, returned the hug and kissed his brother.

Before closing the gate, Tom turned towards his sons and said. "Don't fight okay?"

Jake slide halfway on the slide while Chase pushed the toy slide, showing off how 'strong' he is. Maxton goes to the corner to play with the stuffed bears they had. Ed was in the corner, playing with the building blocks.

Chase climbs up on the steps of the slide and plays with the buttons on the walls. Jake noticing came and asked him what he was doing but he was ignored. His eyes widen when he saw that Chase was playing with the remote.

"Put it back" Ignoring his brother, Chase kept on playing with the remote. Having enough, Jake climbs the steps and grabs the remote from his brother. Not liking that, Chase grabbed it back which started an argument between the two. Ed watches the two play with the remote.

"You'll get hurt, put it back!" But Chase ignored his brother's second warning. Maxton came over, holding one of the stuffed toys in his hand, climbs the steps, and stood with his other two brothers.

"Bad boy. No no"

Feeling anxious at how quiet the room is, Tom went to check on them. When he saw what they were doing he yelled

"Hey, hey, hey, hey! What are you doing?" The three boys froze, not expecting their dad to come in. "You naughty boys!" Tom pushed back the slide to the corner of the room.

After putting on the other three hat's Tom was feeling frustrated with his second oldest. Ed thought his father was playing with him, so every time Tom would try to put the hat on his head, the boy would move, giggling. Having enough, Tom put the boy flat on the ground and strap him down, locking him, he raised the boy's head and slipped the hat on. Feeling satisfied, he got up, grabbed all of their hands, and headed out the door. They followed their father like little ducklings outside towards their vehicle.

Tom walks out of the house rolling the car train with, Chase, Ed, Jake, and Max on it. He sat on the bike and peddle his way.

"Wow, this is a good workout!" He exclaimed peddling around the neighborhood, he talked about the colours of the grass and the different types of cars.

Tom put all four of his kids in the toy train seats, in order of Chase, Ed, Jake then Max, then he put himself on the bike and peddles away.

As he peddles, he was showing them the different types of objects around the area. Everyone was mostly hearing the yells of Jake and Edward.

{confessions}

"Since I'm an actor and I would need to be um fit for the roles, I'd need to go to the gym, but I have four kids, and it would be difficult trying to take them to the gym, plus it isn't safe, so I had to find another method. This seems to be easier."

{switch}

Tom peddles quickly, feeling the breeze dry his sweaty forehead. He peddles by a bridge that's connected to the park, he slowly rolled up on the bridge then went down quickly, hearing the joyful screams coming from the back.

"Again! Again!" He turned and looked at Ed who had his hands in the air, smiling at the boy he turns around and peddles back on the bridge but this time feeling the pain, panting loudly. His action was gaining people's attention.

Soon they made it inside the park where the bathing fountain was located. He takes out three of the boys and removed their helmets, then handing them a ball to play with. A few fans walked up to him and asked if they could get an autograph.

Chase quickly takes the ball out of his brother, Jack's hand, and runs to the fountain, loving the feeling of the water on his back. Runs Ed and Jack following after.

When he takes out Maxton, he realizes that the boy's diapers were full, "Oh my god, seriously?" He holds the boy and grabbed the diaper bag and heads to the male's washroom.

While he was changing Maxton, Jake ended up wandering off on his own. Chase somehow removed his clothes and was bathing naked, Ed, who didn't want to get wet, came over, trying to sheld his brother's nudity from people.

While Jake was wondering, he ended up talking to a few people, making him laugh at how cheerful and energetic he was, but because of his socializing, he got himself lost.

"Pa?" He questions, he walks to a tent filled with people to see if he was there but got sad when he wasn't, he counties looking around for him.

Tom came out with his youngest son, he looked around as to where his other sons were. He found Chase and Ed together, he quickly grabbed the boy, trying to cover him. When he realized that one of his children was missing he started yelling. "Jake!"

The said boy heard his name and came running towards his father, he fell but got back up and kept running. Seeing his son running, Tom, (also holding Chase) ran to the child, he grabbed him and carry the two back to where they originally were.

He put Jake down who went by Max and started playing, he put Chase on his lap, trying to put on the boy's pants for him. "Keep your clothes on" Nodding his head, he gave his father a cheeky smile.

He put the boy down and took off his socks and shoes he went by Ed who was standing on the side, grabbed the boy and carried him to the fountain, realizing that his son was scared of the fountain, he tried his best to make him feel safe.

He goes and picks up, Chase, the trio were playing until Max came, wanting to be picked up as well, Tom feeling unsure, although he struggled, he picked up the three boys. Then Jake came to him, "You want a lift?"

Nodding his head, he made grabby hands at his dad. Feeling Chase move to his back, Tom picked up Jake amazing everyone around him, started taking pictures of the family.

After a while, it was time to change. Tom took off Maxton's shirt while he was doing that, he noticed that Jake wasn't there. "Jake! Jake!"

The camera switches to the boy, holding a ball running to the girl's washroom. He watched the girl's smiling at them, he smiled back. While changing Max, Chase decided to follow his little brother. They both entertain into the girl's washroom, smiling and talking to them.

Max was changed, then Tom quickly went and change Ed, after changing him, he straps the two on the train then heads off to find his other sons.

"Chase! Jake! God these two will get me old quick. Chase! Jake!"

When the two saw their dad running towards them, they went back into the girls' washroom but were stopped by one of the mothers. Tom thanked them and walked away with his sons, trying to change them as quickly as he can.

After having lunch in a restaurant Tom took his ducklings home and changed them for the evening. Night came and it was almost their bedtime. In the playroom, Tom took out a toy goal post

"Okay so this is a goal post, you kick the ball in it" Ed took the ball and push it in the goal post, screaming happily.

Tom chuckled at the boy's silliness, "No Ed, that's not how you do it bub"

[Tom tries to show them how to play football, for the first time]

He took the ball and ut his foot on it. "You don't use your hands, you use your feet, now look at daddy" Tom starts to dribble the ball "I'm dribbling the ball. Gosh, it's been a while." But he notices his sons weren't paying attention, instead, they were more paying with the goal post and spare ball. When he did try to get their attention, he tried to shoot in the goal post.

He failed.

The only one who really understood the game was Chase since he kicked the ball and it went in the goal post. He patted the boy on his head, then he watched as Max and Ed push the ball in the goal post.

Feeling tired, Tom laid on the ground trying to take a small rest, but that was soon ended when Ed throws himself on his dad's stomach. He covered his head when Jake went to sit on his face. "You guys are hurting daddy, he needs his face"

Feeling a bit annoyed, Jake and Ed went to the camera dinosaur.

[If you won't play with us the dinosaur will]

Max laid his body on Tom's chest, slowly falling asleep to the breathing of his heart. He got up slowly and put Max into his bed, he picked the other three boys from the ground and carried them to their room.

Tom goes to call his wife girlfriend on the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hi love"

"How was it? Taking care of them I mean?"

"Ah it was decent, good actually"

"Tom..."

"Alright, so it was a bit difficult but we had a good day today, we went bike riding."

"Okay, is that all?"

"No, you know the park with the fountain? Chase seemed to love it too much. We gotta get that boy to keep his clothes on" You laughed at that, already imgaining Chase running around in public naked.

"Ed didn't like it at all, kept screaming. Jake made a few friends today. Maxton mostly made mud pies for me."

"Really? I expected Ed to be the one to love it, huh."

"I know. I was really shocked."

"Did you put the waterproof diapers on them?" Tom's eyes widen at that.

"What?"

"I bought waterproof diapers to use in the pool."

"That's a thing?!"

"Yes Tom, I told you this before. If you wanted to take them to the pool you could use-don't tell me you use regular diapers?!"

When you didn't hear anything you laughed at him, not surprised that Tom would do this.

"Okay well, next time use them. Hey, I have work for 7. I love you alright?"

"Love you too, sleep well, bye" He hangs up the phone and stared at the picture on his phone screen.

{confession}

"I'm honestly amazed at my wife. When we found out that she was having quadruplets, the doctor strongly suggested that it would be good for both my wife and the babies...if we let two of them go. It was hard. They said it would pressure her heart if she didn't. I couldn't tell her no but.. I didn't want to lose any of them. She said she was going full out, that she wasn't going to give up, so one day I came home, I think we had a month or so left and she was standing there crying. Full-on tears. So I asked her what's wrong and she goes 'It hurts to walk' So..."

Tom had tears in his eyes, he wiped them and continued "I had to pick her up. We cried together. In the car. She was in so much pain, her legs and face were swollen...so many unexpected things happen, I kept asking the nurses if she was going to be alright. They were born a few weeks later, they didn't need to go into this incubator. I'm so proud of my girlfriend. I hope later on I could call her Mrs. Holland" He let out a laugh and smiled at the camera.

T A G L I S T

@webmeupspiderdaddy @runawayolives @nerdy-collector-festival @hopelessromm @bi-lmg @speedyhandsbonkpalace

(If you see this then I couldn't tag you)

Want to be added? Then message me!

#tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #x reader #tom holland angst #tom holland masterlist #masterlist #fanfiction #pregnant #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland #dad tom holland x reader

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laineystein · 3 years ago

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40 little things I love about Israel (AKA the Israel the media won’t show you):

1. Beach libraries! Bus stop libraries! Colorful, well stocked, pop up libraries everywhere!

2. In Israel, the swings at a playground are spaced in a circle (instead of a line) so children can look at one another. It encourages interaction and community - very Jewish!

3. There were mice/bird issues in Israeli neighborhoods so the government released cats to combat the issue. When they realized it had gotten out of hand, vets started spay/neutering and vaccinating all of the stray cats so they’re all well taken care of.

4. There are flowers everywhere!

5. Beautiful graffiti! A lot of it uses the natural texture/shapes of structures to make art. So colorful!

6. A lot of neighborhood streets are themed. There’s a neighborhood in Ashdod that is named after strong Israeli women - my favorite!

7. The respect for the military. We give to those currently serving, we have holidays for those who have fallen in service, and our rehabilitation centers for those injured in service are top notch.

8. There is art - sculptures, mosaics, paintings - everywhere! We even turn useful things (benches, trash cans) into art. Or exercise equipment…like outside…at the beach. All art.

9. Makhtesh! (Mountains that were washed over with water causing them to collapse into themselves, causing massive crater-like valleys)

10. Trees! Someone is born? Plant a tree. Someone passes? Plant a tree. Just want to plant a tree? Plant a tree.

11. Promenades! Also referred to as “teyelet” in Hebrew. Pedestrians, bikes, flowers, cafes. Not sure where to go? Find the promenade and start walking. You’ll figure it out.

12. Jews are from all over the world - and they bring their food with them to Israel. Moroccan? Italian? Yemeni? Russian? Syrian? Slavic? Polish? German? French? Brazilian? Spanish? We have it ALL.

13. Similarly - Kosher? Pareve? Vegetarian? Vegan? Gluten-free? Israel’s restaurants typically have options for each and/or are very amenable to making changes when they can.

14. Super diverse geography! Mountains? Deserts? Beaches? Forests? Cold weather? Warm weather? YUP.

15. Public transportation is very efficient. You really don’t need a car. It’s also extremely affordable so there’s really no reason *not* to use it.

16. This one will blow your mind: religious tolerance! Does Israel have a lot of Jews? Sure! It also has Muslims, Christians, Atheists, etc. Israel prides itself on being very knowledgeable/aware/respectful of different religions and beliefs and caters toward each in the government, education, military, etc.

17. Museums! So. Many. Museums. Indoor, outdoor, UNDERWATER. All the museums!

18. Free in vitro-fertilization programs! (Healthcare in general is amazing)

19. There will be rosemary and sage that just grow wildly near the road? And you can pick it and cook with it? And we do? Often.

20. Such varied communities of Orthodox Jews. Hasidic Jews are such a small subset in the Orthodox community. They all have different traditions and appearances. It’s really wonderful.

21. Simchat Torah is a party in the streets. Honestly, all Jewish holidays just hit differently in Israel.

22. Salads. Colorful salads! Savory salads! Sweet salads! For those of you who are weary of Salad culture, Israel will change your mind. We eat salads at nearly every meal.

23. We have the best coffee. That’s it. We just do. (Our coffee and cafes are so good that Starbucks doesn’t survive in Israel. Who needs it?)

24. Lemonana. Or lemonade with mint. Just trust me.

25. The Dead Sea. Come see it/experience it before global warming makes it disappear!

26. Prisoners can vote in elections! We even have polling places in prisons to facilitate this. We actually put polling places in many places to ENCOURAGE voting by all Israelis.

27. The siren on Yom HaShoah. How the entire country of Israel comes to a stop no matter what they’re doing.

28. The views. There’s always a mountain you can stand on to see the ocean, the skyline, the desert.

29. There’s always new and old parts to cities and they somehow blend together really well. Israel is full of so much history and the Israeli people continue to build on that without disrespecting the past.

30. Sheirut Leumi AKA an alternative to compulsory military service that allows young Israelis to serve Israel in different ways ie. working at Independence Hall, explaining Israel’s history to tour groups, and any other visitors.

31. So many options to volunteer! Food pantries, hospitals, nursing homes - giving back to the community is a key tenet in Judaism and is common in Israel. (Our bus stops have monetary donation boxes!!)

32. The shuk aka the massive open-air market in Jerusalem. Google it. It’s magical. (There are a lot of shuks throughout Israel but the most well known and largest is in Jerusalem.)

33. Banks are like works of art? They’re architecturally stunning? It’s like being transported back in time. Even newer banks are built in older styles.

34. So many parks and botanical gardens. And they’re all FREE!!!

35. Halva. I could eat pounds of it.

36. The sunsets. Nothing compares.

37. Universities are fun to visit? All are welcome. They often have tours open to the public and they’re designed with that in mind.

38. Our money has braille on it! And we have a theatre that is dedicated entirely to the deaf and blind communities. How cool is that?

39. Light shows. We like to light up buildings and we hold events showcasing lit fountains and other light adorned structures. I don’t know but it’s a big thing.

40. Kosher everything! Kosher glue on stamps! Kosher food fed to animals at the zoo! Kosher McDonalds!

#Israel #Jerusalem #Tel Aviv #Judaism #Jumblr #Ashdod #Israel things #this is everything off the top of my head #trust me when I say that it’s a wonderful country and it has so much to offer #I’m sorry the media has lead you to believe otherwise #Israel is my home and I will protect it until the day I die #so I get I’m a bit biased #but read this and tell me it doesn’t sound magical #my heart my home

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spices-and-cherries · 4 years ago

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Don’t make me wait (James Bond x Reader)

This was a request by the lovely @iamcavainna! I’m so sorry it took so long, but life was being a bit rough. I also wanted to at least try and make this good, so I thought that it would be better if I took some time with it... There is a fluffy ending!

I did not reference race, gender, sexuality, or physical appearance. If I missed something, please let me know so I can change it!

Warnings: drinking wine, a gun, angst, anxiety, mentions of potential accidents that could happen in a snowy mountain

It’s not uncommon for your partner, James Bond, to be traveling abroad for weeks on end. While it can get lonely, he does try to call regularly from whichever hotel he’s staying in. After a while, you became used to it. Why? Late or not, he always kept his promise:

I’ll be back.

The last time he had called, he had said that he wouldn’t be able to contact you for a week at most due to a strenuous business conference at a ski resort in the Alps. Seeing as this was normal routine for him, you thought nothing of it and just reminded him not to accidentally hurt himself (yet again).

But today, you’re worried. In fact, you’ve been worried for five days straight. It’s been over a week - eleven days to be exact - and now you feel as though something is off.

Had he flown off the side of a cliff? Did he get lost? Was he trapped under an avalanche of snow?

James had given you an address to go to in case of emergency, but would this be the right time to use it? How can you be sure that you’re just not being paranoid? And if you did go, what would you say? James has never taken you to his place of work and barely talks about his colleagues, so who would you even be speaking to?

Hundreds of panicked questions circle your mind as you pace around your living space, phone in one hand and address in the other. You had barely slept the night before and hadn’t eaten all day.

You missed James. He’s been gone for almost a month now and no number of phone calls could replace the feeling of his warmth on his side of the bed. His laugh, his miserable cooking, his rough hands... You needed all of that and more back at home next to you. So you had to go.

You check the time. It’s just before four o’clock. If you hurry, you just might catch someone on their way out.

---

Without a second thought, you slip on your coat and hurry to the closest bus stop. The trip there was a bit of a haze, between the times you were navigating and transferring. The haze dissipates pretty quickly as you walk up to what was supposed to be some office building and not a glamourous apartment complex with a Rolls Royce being unloaded in front of the main entrance.

You have to double and triple check the address written down and your GPS on your phone. It seemed to be the right place...

Tentatively, you walk into the lobby, feeling very out of place and small. The floor looks like it all marble and there’s a little fountain in the middle of the space.

Anxious, you manage to sign yourself in at the front desk. There were some complications due to your ID, but after a quick phone call, it was sorted out and you were free to go up. You speed-walk to the elevators, feeling like someone was watching you. Looking around, you didn’t see anyone but the uptight attendant you had just spoken to making another call. The elevator doors open and you walk in.

As you get closer and closer to your destination, you feel more anxious and your palms start to sweat. You furiously try and dry them as the doors open into what looked to be someone’s home.

And that someone was straight in front of you.

“Who are you?” She was an older woman with short, salt-and-pepper hair and a fitted pantsuit.

“Uh...” You hear the elevator doors close behind you. There’s no escaping now.

“Well? I don’t have all day, you know.”

“My name is (Y/) (L/N)... I think my husband works for you.” One of her eyebrows raised. “Uh, he said that in case of emergency that I come here...” You pull out the piece of paper and she takes it. “I don’t really have anything urgent, but he’s unusually late in checking in and I-”

“Good lord.” She muttered furiously after scanning the note and crushes it.

“Pardon?” You ask, somewhat alarmed by the unexpected response.

“Please, have a seat.” She waves to a chair and you comply.

“Do you know-”

“Your husband? Yes. He’s one of my men.”

“Men?”

“...Well I can see that that fool did follow my order for once, not that it makes much difference...”

“I’m not sure I understand...”

“Normally, you wouldn’t have to.” She sits down across from you. “What is it that Bond told you about his job?”

“...Well, he’s one of those people who are the intermediaries between large company deals...?”

“Close. In reality, he’s the exact opposite.”

“I don’t-”

“Bond is an agent trained in the art of infiltration in order to stop certain kinds of ...businesses from expanding more than they already have. In short, your... husband... is an international spy.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“But that is not the issue here.” She stares at you with eagle eyes. “The issue is this address. Did Bond give it to you?”

“Yes!” You squeak - to say you’re terrified would be an understatement. “He said to come here in case of an emergency while he wasn’t home.”

“And the emergency is?”

“It’s been over a week since he last called. He promised that he would contact me once the week ended. He’s five days late. He’s never late for that long!”

“Right.” She rests her head in the palm of her hand as if she were dealing with some trivial issue. “Has anyone seen this address or followed you here?”

“No one has seen it and I don’t think so?”

“You don’t think so or you don’t know?” She snaps, but her face softens after seeing the look on your face. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Do you - do you know where James is?”

"...We know just as much as yourself. It seems the only thing that man is good for is causing me trouble.” She was standing up again and pacing.

“Is there anything I can do to help? I have this awful feeling that something happened!”

“I am afraid not. We are already doing all we can.” She sighs. “...Did he tell you anything last time he contacted you?”

“He said he was going to a ski resort with a client in the Alps...”

“Nothing else?”

“Not that I can remember.” She takes a good look at you, then turns away.

“We were told the same. Any longer and we’ll may have to consider him MIA.”

“MIA?” You feel slightly faint. “Is - is he in danger?”

“If he wasn’t he wouldn’t be doing his job.” You slump back into your seat, unsure of how to take all this information in. Not only has your husband lied to you about his profession, but that profession is putting him in danger!

“Is there anything you can tell me?” You start fiddling with your hands. “I don’t think I caught your name...”

“That would be because I didn’t tell it to you. You may call me M.”

“Right.” You nod awkwardly. “Seeing as all this is top secret and I’m-”

“A civilian.”

“...What’s going to happen to me?”

“That would be for upper management to decide. Though it shouldn’t be anything too harmful. Bond was the one who brought you into this, after all.”

“Will he be fired?” Alarm rushes through you at the thought.

“Oh no,” M looks at you with surprise. “James has done much worse than this. They’ll just give him a light spanking and send him off. He’s too good to be let go of.” She looks at you with a penetrating gaze. “Too damn good.”

“Well, that’s a relief.” You smile awkwardly. “In all honesty, this whole situation is a bit much for me.”

“I can imagine.”

“Does this happen with James often?”

“Missing a check-in or finding out about secret marriages?”

“Missing check-ins?”

“Yes, yes it does. Although it seems as though he contacts you more than us. It’s been two weeks since he last called in. It does seem like he’s taking longer than usual...”

---

Out of supposed security concerns, M told you to stay with her until James comes back. As a compromise, she sent some people to keep surveillance in your neighborhood and on your flat. Of course, this meant a couple of days (or more) living with this mysterious woman. M never talked unless necessary and most certainly did not bring her work home. While she trusts you enough in her home, she cannot afford anything leaking out, no matter how harmless.

That being said, she did try to update you on any word (or lack thereof) from your husband. The more time past, the more anxious you became. You could no longer sleep and M would find you in your room just staring at the ceiling. You had confided in her just once about how much you were missing him when you had one too many glasses of wine. Despite your loneliness, you really did try and keep strong. If the two of you were eating together, you’d ask her questions about your husband’s job. M couldn’t answer more than half of them, but did try to help shed some light on this new side of James.

She couldn’t go into a lot of details, both due to how classified it all was, but because she thought that James should be the one to explain everything.

On the third day, M had informed you that James had sent a message. It was short and didn’t disclose his whereabouts, but you were so relieved that your knees just about gave out from underneath you.

He was safe.

He was safe and that was all that mattered to you. Several more days would pass before you’d be reunited.

---

It was the dead of night and, like usual, you couldn’t sleep. M wasn’t home - she said that she would be late - so you had eaten by yourself. While her suite is beautiful, you can’t help but wish that you were home in your little flat. You used to be annoyed about how much the building settled or your neighbors snoring during the night. Now, the lack of noise unsettles you. However, every noise you do happen to hear makes the hairs on your arms stick up.

Especially when you hear the elevator open awfully early in the night.

Somehow, you knew that it wasn’t M. Maybe it was because you didn’t hear her toss her handbag on one of the chairs or that her usual heels didn’t sound like they should. Either way, you had to make sure that everything was okay. You quietly get out of the bed and grab an empty wine bottle.

Carefully, you slowly twist the doorknob to ease the door open by just a crack. You can just make out a figure that was much bigger than M shuffling around her desk. Unsure of what to do and not wanting to blow your cover immediately, you stay right where you are. He - for it was most definitely a man - straightened himself out and proceeded to make himself comfortable in one her chairs with his back towards you.

Why would a burglar make himself at home?

As he begins to pour himself a glass, you gently open the door wide enough that you could slip through it. You bless your lucky starts that it doesn’t squeak.

One, two, three, four steps forward when suddenly two unexpected things happen at the same time.

The man had gotten up, spun around and pointed a gun at your head.

The elevator doors open to reveal M.

“Good heavens! What is happening?” You watch M hurry in, throwing her bag on a chair. “Bond! Put the gun down!” Your head snaps back around. The look of surprise and alarm was reflected in your husband’s bright blue eyes. You drop the bottle and it shatters. His gun was swiftly tossed aside.

“James.” You choke back a sob as you run into his arms. He hugs back just as fiercely.

“(Y/N).” He softly tucks your head into his shoulder and seems to relax in your arms.

“I missed you.”

“I know.”

“While this is awfully touching, you have a lot of explaining to do, Bond.” James lifts his head when he hears M say his name.

“Ah. Yes. I forgot you were here.” You didn’t need to see M’s face to know the look of annoyance she was most likely sporting.

“Just sit down.” M snaps, but you can tell that it’s half-hearted. James lets go of you, but grabs your hand as he sinks down into the couch. You curl up on his side, his hand still in yours.

You would never know what it was that the two talked about after that because you had fallen asleep as soon as your head settled on his shoulder.

When you woke up, it was bright out and you were on the couch. Your pillow shifts, making you do a double take. Your pillow was in fact an arm. You shift to your other side and find yourself face to face with your husband’s sleeping face. Gently, you caress his face then plant a kiss on his cheek.

“That’s hardly what I would call a good afternoon kiss.” James smirks, suddenly wide awake.

“Afternoon?”

“It’s just after one.” He gently pulls you closer to him. “Now, don’t make me wait more than I already have...”

“That makes two of us, doesn’t it-” You kiss him squarely on the mouth then pull back - much to his obvious displeasure. “-Mr. Secret Agent?”

Needless to say, the two of you would take the time to talk things out and bring everything (that’s not classified information) into the light.

I tried really hard with this one, so I hope you all enjoyed it! I kinda feel like the start and the end were rushed... I plan on doing some Jake Lonergan headcanons this week, so that will be fun. Please feel free to send me ideas or requests! It might take a while for me to finish it, but I’ll try my best!

- Simpy

#james bond x reader #james bond #x reader #daniel craig #007 #M #established couple #married couple #top secret #minor angst #fluff #request #angst to fluff #kisses #romance #fanfic #fanfiction #ian fleming #everyone is welcome

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pascalpanic · 4 years ago

Text

Cigarette Daydreams

Pairings: young Javier Peña x young f!reader

Inspiration: Cigarette Daydreams by Cage The Elephant

Summary: Javier drives all night in the rain, wondering what went wrong and where. How he lost you, the one woman he’d ever loved.

W/C: 5.4k

Warnings: language, talk of death, lots of talk of sexual content but nothing explicit, lots of angst, emotions are running high here, talk of poor mental health. this handles some heavy topics so please be warned. set in the 60s so there’s a really brief mention of being drafted.

A/N: So this is a song I like but it’s really emotional, as is this fic. I just wanted to explore what Javier would’ve been like when he was young. It’s not necessarily all in chronological order but I kind of think it makes sense... let me know if it doesn’t. thank you to all my friends/beta readers who helped me with this one, like @leonieb, @feelingmadclever, @theteddylupinexperience, and a bunch of others :)

Javier smoked his first cigarette with you. It would become a lifelong addiction: the cigarettes, that is. You, on the other hand, were a yearning he could never satisfy. An addiction is something you can feed; you can dull it by giving it exactly what it wants. Javier wanted you, still wants you desperately. The difference is that he cannot have you.

It’s been years since he last saw you. Since he last heard your enchanting laugh, smelled the warm scent of your hair product as he kissed the top of your head. He thinks about you all the goddamn time. What life would be like now if you hadn’t gone your own way. He misses you like hell, but he’s sure you’re off and married and conquering the world in your own way. He’s never tried to find out. He’s too scared it’s true.

Laredo was more of the place you told people you hailed from. The name was recognizable, easily: oh, you’re from the place where A&M’s other campus is located? Exactly, you’d respond, and it was much less of a hassle. In reality, you and Javier both grew up in a small community out in the farmlands near Laredo.

You’d grown up with him. Everyone in the town knew you, and they knew Javi equally as well. He was an interest of your community: from the day you took those standardized tests in second grade, everyone knew that Peñita was going places, but his temper held him back. His emotions consumed him.

He was blonde as a baby; you’d seen in photos, scattered around Chucho’s house. His hair gradually grew darker as he grew older, and your classmates all teased him. You didn’t remember a time where his hair was lighter than a dark blonde, being a child yourself. But it was an evolution that matched him, you had come to realize in your adult years.

Not only was he smart, he was a born athlete. Javier was always a bit smaller than the other boys, but damn was he quick. He could run and run and no one could match him. That’s what made him so successful in early football training. From the start, Chucho enrolled him in football, despite Alejandra’s weak protests. She gave in when she saw her baby in a helmet and massive shoulder pads, grinning at her with one front tooth.

You and Javier were not in the same circles as children. He played with the boys on the field, always the running back when they played football or the offense when they played soccer. He had a temper, though. If there was ever a scuffle on the soccer pitch, you could bet Javier was one of the fighters. You, on the other hand, sat in the shade of the elementary school building, reading book after book.

His mother was beautiful. She had long dark hair that smelled of something exotic and warm, and she had a smile with a dimple in one cheek. She brought treats to your class on his birthday, which was in November. She read books to your class on her assigned story days, Javier cuddled into her side. He adored her.

Alejandra Peña died when you were in sixth grade. You can remember the way the class was silent the next morning, Javier’s desk empty. You nearly threw up from the emotion when you heard that she was gone. Your eyes blurred with tears. The loss was inconceivable to your twelve-year-old brain.

You rode your bike past his house that night. There was a lamp on in the room you knew to be his. His silhouette paced back and forth through the small, second-floor bedroom. You didn’t know what you could do or say, and so you rode off through the neighborhood.

His hair grew even darker after that. What had been a dark blonde became a light brown as middle school progressed. His anger flared up. He would throw punches when the kid acting as referee made a call Javier deemed to be bullshit.

You were something different. Javier found you fascinating the first time you truly interacted, seated together for a class. You were fourteen then, his face just starting to grow a bit of dark hair on his jaw. You were absorbed by your books, hardly talking to anyone and even sneaking it under the table during lectures.

One day, he called your name to catch your attention. You didn’t notice it, lost in your own world. He snatched the book from your hands and slammed it on the table. “Hey. Princesa, we got work to do.”

You frowned. “Give it back, Peñita.”

“Only after we finish this assignment. I don’t want homework tonight.” He stuffed the book in his backpack and tossed you a pencil.

“I won’t do it until you give it back,” you bartered coolly, crossing your arms and sitting back in the chair. “And I have more willpower than you. That’s a fact.”

He glared at you for a moment, the both of you staring the other down. It lasted quite a while, more than you expected. Javier broke first, handing you your book and grumbling over the worksheet.

You became better partners after that. Javier even apologized for it two weeks later. You forgave him, and something about his smile made your heart flutter around in your ribcage.

That started the friendship. You’d walk together in the halls, chatting about your parents and sports and homework for the night. Then middle school became high school and things changed between you, even though nothing you did was different.

Javier had always been a good athlete. He became the first-string running back for the high school, leading them to state his freshman year. When you walked together in the halls now, there was an expectation from the others. Boys and girls only walked together if they were couples, and a star football player was a coveted date.

You’d explained that to him. “Javi, as much as I love you, and you know I do, people are gonna think we’re together. I don’t want you to have to deal with that,” you’d pleaded. “I’d be ruining your chances. I think it’s better if we walk separately now.”

Javier nodded. He had to play along. He couldn’t let you know that in the past few months, he’d begun to feel things for you he’d never felt before. He had dreams about you at night, the kind where he’d wake up to damp sheets. He’d noticed your body changing, and his changed too. He thought about you when he’d lie awake at night, his hand in his boxers. The hormones were beginning to pump through Javier’s blood in a way that may have never really ever stopped.

From then on, you’d walk alone in the hall. Your nose was buried in a book at first, navigating it alone. Then you’d made friends, and you’d talk with people as you slammed your locker shut. You’d give Javier a wave, leading him to be roughhoused by his teammates who took him in as one of their own.

You became different from him. You were known for being an artist and a writer. You embraced the loving spirit of the 60s’ culture and made warm oil paintings of fields and flowers, wrote poetry that won awards, and even wrote a collection of short stories. You weren’t a hippie, but you were artsy. Javi became a bit of a jock.

The pressure grew to be too much in the middle of Javier’s junior season. It was the end of fall. You were both 17. You’d stopped maintaining a friendship now, far from as close as you’d been in the earlier days. You waved at him in the hall and that was it. It changed when the stress of being an athlete pushed on Javier’s brain until it popped. He quit the team, spending his time after school in his bedroom at home. He no longer proudly wore the team’s t-shirts or his letter jacket.

You heard about it through rumors. You didn’t talk to Javier. He kept his head down in the halls now. There were dark circles under his eyes. He’d sit in the library for hours, forcing himself to cram knowledge into his brain. If he wouldn’t be going to college for football now, he figured, he’d better get smart fast.

You’d sat at a table across the library as you worked on your chemistry homework. You glanced up. Javier looked down. He’d been looking at you. You stared at him until he looked up again. “Can I sit with you?” You’d mouthed, and he nodded. A small smile graced his face.

Packing up your textbook and papers, you dragged a chair over. “Hi, Javi,” you said. Your voice was quiet and painfully soft.

He smiles a little. “Hey, princesa.”

It’s quiet for a moment, the both of you staring at your papers and pretending like you were working. You weren’t. “I missed you,” you finally admitted after the silence passed.

His heart skipped a beat. “I missed you too. Probably more than you missed me.”

You shook your head. “I was wrong. I liked walking with you in the halls. I miss that, I miss us,” you admit, your hand resting over his. He looked up at you with the big brown eyes you’ve always loved, and your smile softened. “Your hair is so dark now, Peñita.”

He nodded a little. “It just keeps going. I don’t know if it will ever stop.”

“You’re funny,” you chuckled and retracted your hand. “How have you been? I heard about the football thing.”

He sighed softly. “It was too much. Not me, not anymore. I hated it.”

“Who are you now, then?” You asked quietly.

He looked up at you. “I don’t know.”

You’d smiled. “I can help you find out.”

That’s how your friendship began again.

It wasn’t a friendship for long, not with how you noticed Javier had changed. His hair was that warm, dark, chocolate color, his nose finally fit his face, he’d grown stronger and leaner and taller. He’d acquired a different sense of confidence, a different posture and walk. But it was clear: he was still your Javi. The one who stole your book all those years ago.

You’d grown even more beautiful over your time apart, he noticed. You’d become self assured and confident too and it showed. You had a little mean streak, and Javier loved it more than life itself. He got a little weak at the knees when you’d tease him.

He’d become a social outcast, essentially abandoning his place in the social hierarchy that high schools provide. When you knocked on his door a few days later, Chucho answered, slightly confused. “Hello.”

“Hi,” you said, smiling apologetically. “I’m a friend of Javi’s, I’m here to study with him.”

The older man was a mirror of Javier many years from now. He had a strong nose too, and a worn face. It made lines when he’d smiled. “I didn’t know Javi had many friends anymore.”

You shrugged. “Well, I think you’re right. But… I’m here.”

Javi jogged down the stairs, frowning when he saw his father at the door. You came inside and studied and Javier couldn’t help but to beam at you. Studying wasn’t much of studying. As you’d sidetracked the work and started conversing, Javier leaned in as if he was going to kiss you. You stopped him, but kept his face close. “Not now, Javi. I want it to be perfect. But I do want to kiss you.”

He’d panicked when you’d stopped him, but your words reassured him, and he breathed a chuckle. “Sneak out with me tonight.”

You agreed.

12:30 A.M. rolled around. You pocketed a pack of your dad’s cigarettes and a lighter and rode your bike to the pond nearby.

Javier sat there waiting. He was wrapped in a leather jacket, jeans covering his long legs as he sat by the side of the pond. Crickets chirped and birds called and when he looked at you, your heart fell apart in your chest. It never really glued itself back together. Not even to this day.

You sat next to him, and he put an arm around your shoulders. You couldn’t wait any longer, and you leaned in and kissed him and he was absolutely perfect. His soft lips pressed back against yours, those hands buried themselves in your hair. You broke away a second later and both of you grinned at each other. It was only seconds more before he pulled you in for the second kiss you’d ever had in your life.

That night was not only Javier’s first kiss but the first time he smoked a cigarette. You pulled one thin stick from the pack and placed it between his lips, lighting the end.

He was a natural at it, unlike you, who’d tried before and choked and spluttered on the smoke. You were better at it now, able to handle yourself. He breathed in and out and passed it to you, and he looked so effortlessly cool and sexy and beautiful that you didn’t take a drag, you grabbed his face and kissed him again.

You were so many firsts for Javier. His first kiss, his first cigarette, his first fuck. You’d done it in the back of his truck, on a hot night where you parked in a field far from the town and rolled all of the windows down. You finally got to feel his strong body, got to feel his passion for you as he tugged on your lip with his teeth and pushed inside of you. It was sheer bliss for both of you, even if he never made you orgasm that night.

It didn’t take long for the two of you to figure that out. Javier was a natural, his hands wandering and feeling everything your body had to offer until they found just the right spot to make you cry his name into the hot Texas night. You snuck out with him often, smoked and fucked in his house when Chucho was gone, or by that pond.

You talked a lot after. You were the first he opened up to about his mother. He missed her like hell. He told you that he wanted to work in some kind of law enforcement. He thought drug enforcement might suit him. You opened up about your own trauma to him, and he held you as you cried into his body. He’d kissed your forehead and told you he promised that nothing would ever happen to you when he’s around, and it was completely believable because Javier was like some deity to you. He was strong and warm and loving and kind and beautiful and you thought, truly, that he could do no wrong.

He never betrayed that trust either. Javier was a wonderful boyfriend to you in the daylight hours too. You’d study together, go on bike rides or just drive around in his truck. You spent almost every weekend with him. Chucho adored you too, loved your humor and kindness and most of all, your love for his son. Your family didn’t like Javier much, so you simply avoided your house with him.

Javier was so proud when he first pulled up your driveway in his truck soon after you began again. He worked for the Villafañes down the road as a farmhand, a summertime assistant to the aging man who lived there. He saved his earnings all summer and split the cost with Chucho. He’d had it for 8 months and it had been on the verge of the junkyard the entire time.

It was a piece of shit, and you both knew it. It was a deep red, rusty and broken down. The shocks were terrible and made it bounce like a bull in a ring. It didn’t matter, because it was his.

He’d pick you up in that truck and drive all night. The two of you sang along to the radio, then would talk, then make out in the backseat and drive again. You loved Javier, and you admitted it quickly. He said it immediately after you.

People looked at you like you were crazy when you held Javier’s hands in the hall. Wasn’t he a mental case? Who would give up something like he had, and for no apparent reason? You didn’t give a shit, even if your friends told you Javier was no good. They didn’t know him, didn’t know that his middle name was Fernando and he hated it and that his mother’s favorite gem, ruby, was yours too, that Chucho told you Javi wanted to marry you someday or that Javier loved to nudge your neck with his nose after sex, both of you warm with the hot Texan air flowing through his open windows.

You told them they didn’t get it, and they said you were the one who didn’t. You’ve got everything going for you. Why risk it with the nut job?

Javier remained a pariah, an outcast, but you didn’t give a shit. You called out his name in the hall and waved, sat with him at lunch and laughed until you choked on the terrible school meal. You were loud and affectionate, and it brought Javi back from the fringes of high school society he’d been banished to.

Javier worked in fields and barns to earn money, building his muscles. You worked in customer service, building your restraint. Your town had opened a drive-in restaurant a few years before, complete with roller-skating waitresses. Being a skilled skater, you signed up.

It was fun, but a pain in the ass some days. Customer service was rarely enjoyable.

The highlight of the summer after your junior year was Javier pulling up to the restaurant every few days. “Peñita!” You’d squeal and put in an order for just what he always wanted- strawberry milkshake, double patty cheeseburger, large fries.

“Hey, Princesa,” he’d mumble back with a small smile, leaning in for a kiss. He looked like a Texan James Dean, white t-shirt cuffed and worn jeans. His dark hair was gelled back, though much of it fell loose from his long day of hauling crops for Don Villafañe. This coolness was contrasted by his shitty truck, dust caking the windows, and the fact that he was far from blonde now.

You’d fold your arms over his open window and kiss him, tripping over your skates in your excitement. He’d laugh and tease you, and he’d always give you the cherry off the top of his milkshake. You began telling your coworkers to put two cherries on top, so that he could have one too. He still gave both to you.

During your senior year, Javier gave you his class ring. It was large and bulky on your fingers, thinner than his, but it made you beam with pride as you walked through the halls. You’d cried when he gave it to you, promising he’d replace it with a diamond someday. You knew it would never last that long.

Senior year was uneventful. You went to prom with Javier, wearing a peach colored dress. Javier wore his father’s tuxedo with a tie to match your color. The photo was awkward but sweet, the two of you clearly in love. You graduated equally uneventfully, and the two of you spent the night in his truck, out in a field, promising sweet nothings through the sound of skin slapping skin. “Here’s to the class of ‘66,” Javier murmured into your neck.

You had big dreams, and Javier’s were far different. He planned on attending Texas A&M, not far away. You’d earned a fantastic scholarship at a small liberal arts college in Upstate New York. You both knew these things, but Javier seemed determined to make it work. He knew the two of you loved each other; shouldn’t that be enough?

You felt guilty the entire summer. You had anxiety attacks quite a bit, felt that you were leading Javier on. Then, another part of you thought, he must know. He must not believe you could pull off a long distance relationship with only letters and phone calls.

Javier passed the summer blissfully unaware. He was young and in love: he thought there was nothing that could go wrong. You still spent time together, more than you ever had, in fact. Something gnawed away at your insides as the time passed.

On the rare days neither of you worked, you’d find somewhere deserted and sit with your legs dangling from his tailgate. You’d nick liquor and cigarettes from your parents and share them, laughing and talking. Planning a future you knew wouldn’t come.

The day before you left, you spent the day with your boyfriend. You had a picnic dinner, complete with some stolen beers from Chucho’s refrigerator. You sat on a blanket in a nearby field, watching as the afternoon dwindled down to an orange-hazed sky.

As the sun set, tears formed in your eyes. “Javi?” You asked him softly, your voice cracking.

“What is it, princesa?” He returned, pulling you closer into his side. The tall grass swayed around you, and you bit your lip to stop from choking out a sob.

“I love you, Javier. And I always will.” But as you said the words, your actions said otherwise. You removed your class ring from your finger, placing it in his palm. “But, I think… I think we need to be our own people for a while. Maybe someday we’ll meet again. Maybe things will be different, but I’m going to New York and you’re staying here. Fuck, you could be drafted, and I-“

Javier stopped you, pulling away and looking at you in the face. His eyes showed his heartbreak. “I thought we were gonna get married, be together forever.”

You choked out a sob. “Javi, I want to. I do. But I can’t. I can’t live that kind of life.” You wanted to travel, to do things, to live freely and be whoever you wanted. Javier wanted to stay in Laredo and work in law enforcement. The two weren’t compatible.

“There’s nothing stopping you,” he begged, taking your hand in both of his. “Please, I’d move to New York with you, or you could go to A&M with me, please,” he asked, his eyes welling with tears. “You’re the love of my life, baby.”

You couldn’t look at him. The emotion was too much to bear. “Javier,” you whined and pulled your hand from his. “Please don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

His heartbroken stare makes you cry harder into your hands. You stood, ready to find your way to the road and walk home.

Javier caught you by the waist, then removed your hands from your face. “I-I understand. I do. But… kiss me one last time?”

You stared at him, tears staining your face and his cheeks equally damp. You nodded and Javier cupped your face, kissing you slowly and lovingly. It was tender and bittersweet. It was not the way you’d kiss him at the drive-in restaurant or in the back of his truck. It was not the way you’d sneak a kiss goodbye in front of Chucho. It was desperate. You both knew what it meant. Maybe that’s why it lasted so long.

You broke away and pressed your forehead to his before finding the dirt road and beginning the walk home. You needed to finish packing, and was getting dark. You didn’t dare to ask Javier to drive you home. You feared you might change your mind if you were around him a second longer.

Javier never saw you after that. It was partially serendipitous and partially out of effort.

When he returned home on winter break or for Thanksgiving, he contained himself to Chucho’s house, or he’d see one or two friends he still had. That was about it. If he knew you weren’t in town, he’d go out and have a good time. It would all go downhill if you were there, and he knew it, so he resigned himself to long nights with his father.

You wanted to see him again. You drove past his house many times when you were home from New York, seeing the light on in his old room again. Every time, you stopped just a little longer than you should have at the stop sign yards from his house. You contemplated pulling into the driveway and begging him to take you back. It never happened.

Once or twice, you even caught a glimpse of dark-chocolate hair through the front windows of the house. It made your heart stop and your eyes tear up.

You moved out of town when you graduated. You started a career near your college, far from your hometown that was almost considered Laredo. Your wish was fulfilled.

Javier’s was too- well, only partially. He stayed in Laredo. He worked in law enforcement there for a while before he got picked to work with the DEA. It didn’t matter what kind of job he got. He didn’t have you, and that made him miserable.

You’d been the one to save him. Now he didn’t even know if you still had the same last name you did when he slipped his class ring onto your finger, when he murmured your full name and promised one day that he’d get you a gorgeous ruby and diamond band instead of that class ring and he’d change that last name to Peña.

Javier got a new truck recently. It’s nice. The first car he ever bought that wasn’t used, actually. It’s a deep red, the same color of his first car. Ruby, he named it.

He thinks about you all the goddamn time. Nothing could change that, not time or hookups. He sighs as he thinks about the years since you’ve seen him, while he drives around in the pouring rain. Why? How?

He never slept around in college, too lovesick and still hoping you’d call and want to meet with him, would want to rekindle what you’d had.

He forced himself to get moving after that. He had a few girlfriends when he worked for the Webb County Sheriff's Office. He even got serious with one.

Lorraine was beautiful and kind and funny. He loved the way she’d shotgun a beer and then kiss him, her lips tasting of the fermented liquid. She was a good time, a great partier. He asked her out and things went well, he supposed.

She wanted different things from Javier. He’d been starting to grow restless, wanting to leave Laredo. Lorraine, however, wanted to settle down. She wanted the whole thing: a big ranch-style, a fireplace in the living room, four or five babies with Javier’s brown eyes, running around and laughing.

As much as he wanted it, he couldn’t. He nodded along and played the game, telling her that he’d do that for her. He’d provide for her and give her all the kids he wanted. He’d be a good father and a great husband and everything would be good.

It was more to himself that he said those things. He wanted to believe they were true, really, but he had the feeling you’d had years ago. He wanted her, wanted such a calming life, but at the same time, he didn’t want it. He wanted to get out and do things and feared being fenced in.

He proposed to Lorraine. Got her a nice diamond ring and everything. She’d cried and kissed him and he’d forced himself to smile but it wasn’t genuine. At least she didn’t know that.

The wedding was planned. It was going to be a grand affair for the town, nearly everyone invited. Everyone was like family to the members of the town. Lorraine got an expensive, fluffy white dress and Javier bought a tuxedo.

The ceremony was supposed to start at 5:00. Everyone sat patiently as the clock ticked past it. They didn’t know a thing. They didn’t know Lorraine was pacing the church basement, her heart clenched in fear. No one had seen Javier. Not even the groomsmen.

Then it became 5:10, 5:30. At 5:45, Lorraine’s mother began to quietly tell the church that the ceremony wouldn’t be happening today. The disgruntled attendees left, wondering what happened.

Javier had ran. He drove out of Laredo, straight for Dallas. He wanted out. He’d left early in the morning, not even saying goodbye to his father. He was already on a plane to Washington D.C. when the bride realized she was no longer getting married today.

He got a job working for the DEA. They’d offered him one a few months ago, but he’d declined. He wanted to stay in Laredo with Lorraine, he’d bluffed. Things hit the fan when he began training for the new job.

He fucked every woman in sight. He didn’t care who they were: if they wanted him, he wanted them. He never stopped smoking, developed a love and almost dependence on whiskey. When he went to Colombia, he paid for his first ever escort.

It was what he deserved, he told himself. The one woman he’d ever loved left him. He had left the one person who ever gave a shit about him. Ruined her life and left her with a sense of anxiety whenever she was in that church’s basement as she remembered.

He doesn’t deserve attachment. He doesn’t deserve someone caring for him. That’s why he sleeps around. That’s why he’s left so many lovers in the dust.

Stop thinking about that, Javier tells himself. He whips a U-turn, opening the window and hanging a hand out of it. It forces himself to return to reality, to get out of his goddamn head and to not crash this new truck. The rain pelts his skin and he frowns. It never rains around Laredo, and it’s the one night he’s in town.

He pulls into the old drive-in restaurant, thinking back to the happy days. He can still see your baby-faced grin as you skated over to him, long legs pushing you along. He could nearly taste the strawberry milkshake on his tongue. It’s closed for the night, since it’s in the early hours of the morning now.

He jumps as a car pulls into the spot next to him. He looks down, knowing that whoever it is will likely recognize him. Everyone recognizes him around here. He’s not in the mood to talk.

“They’re closed,” a voice calls out from the other car, and Javier’s heart stops. He’d know that voice anywhere, even if it spoke a different language.

He looks up and his eyes meet yours for the first time in twenty years. They’re still just as beautiful, still glimmering. “Peñita,” you breathe out as it clicks in your mind.

He’s aged beautifully. His dark hair is neatly pushed back, though it’s a little shorter than he used to keep it. His face has lines now, heavy from the stress of his job. His eyes look weary and tired.

You get out of your car. Javier does the same. You look at him, standing there, with a new truck that’s the same color of his very first piece of shit pickup. “Nice truck,” you comment.

He smiles softly. “Thanks. It’s new.”

You walk around the front of your car, eyes wide in disbelief. There’s hurt on his face and you know you’re the cause of it. “Javier… I missed you.”

He looks down at you, now standing right in front of him. “I missed you more.”

You throw your arms around him and hug him tight. Your eyes water with tears as you squeeze him, wishing this moment would never end. He hugs you back, those arms still strong and protective.

He presses a soft kiss to your head. He mutters his nickname for you quietly. His voice is different now, huskier and deeper. It’s a beautiful sound. His lips are buried in your hair but you can hear it all the same. “Princesa.”

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ptergwen · 4 years ago

Text

you’ll still have me | p.p.

w/c: 2.4k

warnings: angst, mentions of death and a toxic living situation

summary: in a life filled with uncertainty, peter is your constant

a/n: the idea for this was sitting in my mind and writing it out made me feel better about some stuff? i hope it does the same for all of you <3

════*･ﾟ✲

you were only kids the first time you and peter met. it was the summer before fourth grade. you’d just moved in to his building because your parents wanted a fresh start. new neighborhood, new school, new family. the last one didn’t work out. they fought about the same old things in an unfamiliar apartment. you were really hoping something would change.

anything to make them go one night without a screaming match.

your mom and dad never had a great relationship, but they used to at least tolerate each other. or, they pretended to for you. you picked up on it as you got older. they also stopped hiding it as you got older. the place and people you used to call home became unlivable. you were tired of being forced to choose sides. you couldn’t take the tension between everyone.

so, you’d sit on the steps outside your apartment until the yelling stopped. sometimes, you cried. you usually brought headphones to drown them out. there were also the occasional times you roamed the hallways of your building. your parents never showed you around it like they said they would. you might as well have given yourself a tour.

may found you one day walking around her floor. she was never one to pry, but she couldn’t ignore a kid in distress. you were frowning at a wall when she came up to you. “hi, what’s your name?” she asked sweetly. you glanced over at her. “y/n.” “y/n, huh? i’m may.” there was a beat of silence that you didn’t fill. the fight your parents were having that day was worse than usual. it was about you.

“what are you doing up here all alone?” may furrowed her eyebrows, pushing her glasses up on her nose. tears filled your eyes before you could explain. her heart broke for you. she waited until you calmed down to ask what happened. you told her everything the best you could. she couldn’t let you go back home after knowing what was going on there. she invited you over to her apartment.

“you’re the same age as my nephew,” may told you on the way over with a small smile. you perked up a little. “i think you’ll like him.”

she knocked on peter’s door and said he had a guest. peter closed the book he was reading and told her to come in. when he saw you standing behind her, he gasped. a girl? in his room? he’d been shy about these types of things his whole life. may quietly filled him in on your situation, and his look of terror became one of empathy. he cleared his throat.

“do you like legos?”

the parker’s became part of your life after that day. may, ben, and peter. you met ben the next time may took you in. he was really funny and helped you and peter make ice cream sundaes. being with the three of them made you forget about your problems for a little while. they were the family you wished you could go home to.

peter eventually started inviting you over himself. you went to different schools, but you got out at the same time. he’d walk you up to your apartment. if the two of you heard fighting, he’d ask if you wanted to come upstairs. you didn’t even have to tell him yes.

may was right. you did like him. you became friends fast, and he was one of your first in the neighborhood. he had this lighthearted and happy kind of energy that rubbed off on you every time you came over. he’d cheer you up right away. you two laughed all afternoon long at whatever shows were playing on nickelodeon. peter made weird faces to get a smile out of you.

he really enjoyed spending all this time together. he didn’t see you as some random girl to feel bad for. you were his friend.

you got your own key to his apartment when you turned thirteen. he convinced may because you were “already over all the time. she basically lives here.” she couldn’t argue with that. plus, she loved you like her own. why shouldn’t you let yourself in?

ben’s passing changed everything.

you came over after the funeral. peter and may were still dressed in black. the air felt heavy. she kept on a brave face for him, even when you hugged her tight. you said how sorry you were, how incredible of a person her husband was. peter couldn’t do the same. he broke down the second you took him into your arms.

he hid his face in your neck, his tears dripping down your shirt. it was you who cried on his shoulder all these years. now, the roles were reversed. the sob he let out made you tear up yourself.

“he’s gone, y/n. he’s gone.”

there was nothing you could say. all you did was hold him close. you knew peter never had it easy. he lost his parents, then his uncle. it wasn’t fair. he had to grow up when he was little.

you both did.

high school was a blur. you barely spent time at home anymore, either busy with clubs or over at peter’s. you liked it that way. your parents were fighting with each other and now you. they were on you about never being there, saying you broke this family. you just took their shit, then let peter make you forget about it later.

peter turned from an awkward little boy to an awkward young man in front of your eyes. he learned to cover up his sweat stains with body spray. his voice dropped a bit. he’d actually managed to ask a girl out at one point. they went to homecoming together.

you helped him get ready. you found yourself having to choose support over jealousy. why you were jealous, you didn’t know. peter asked if you wanted to come, but you said your school was having a dance next week. that was a lie. it had already happened the day before.

you also found yourself relieved when he said there wasn’t going to be a second date. again, you had no idea where this was coming from.

it didn’t seem like it was only on your end. peter had started keeping an arm around your shoulders when you watched movies. he added your favorite snacks to the grocery list every week. he gave you his hoodies, and didn’t care if you took them home.

the gestures were sweet. sudden, but sweet. you appreciated him more than he probably knew. one day, it all just becomes too real.

“you know what i realized?” peter asks you, hanging upside down on the top of his bunk bed. you’re on the bottom. you poke his shoulder with a pencil. “don’t fall.” he rolls over with a huff, then hops onto the floor. he sits down perpendicular to you. smiling smugly, you close your notebook. “you know what i realized?” he asks again. “what?” peter turns his head to look at you.

“we’ve known each other for eight years, and we only hang out here.” you purse your lips. “so?” peter furrows an eyebrow with a curious smile. “isn’t it kind of weird? like, i never see you outside of this building.” you’d never thought about it before. now that you are, it does seem strange. “i guess, but we’ve never had anywhere else to go.” he looks you up and down. “not true.”

something tells you you’re not going to like what he says next. it’s getting too serious.

“i was thinking, maybe we could go for dinner?”

the corners of your mouth twitch into a frown. peter doesn’t realize. he keeps going on. “on a date, i mean. i saw this place the other day that you-“ you put up a hand to cut him off. “i can’t, peter.” he shrugs. “it doesn’t have to be today. whenever you’re free.” your throat feels tight. you start getting your things together. “no, i can’t go out with you. i... i’m sorry.”

you hurry to the door. peter shoots up from his bed. “it’s fine. we don’t have to, y/n. please stay.” a hot tear streams down your cheek before you can blink it back. you turn around and grab the handle. “i have to go.” “y/n-“

you’re out the door. he wants to go after you, but it doesn’t feel right. you need some time alone.

the second you get into your bedroom, you burst into tears. your breathing is heavy and fast. if only peter was here to hug you through it. but, that’s the whole reason you’re crying. you wish you would’ve said yes. you’d be trying each other’s food or holding hands down the street.

only, it’s not that easy. what you have going would never be the same. peter is the stability you’ve always longed for, the safe place you could always go to. you can’t lose that. even if things worked out between you two, you can’t risk it. you can’t lose him or may. a night out isn’t worth that. he’ll never be in your life the way you want him to, but at least you’ll still have him.

you haven’t been over to peter’s in weeks. you’ve thought about texting him, explaining why you said no. that never happened. you bump into may sometimes in the mailroom. she offers sad smiles, which you awkwardly return. peter must have told her.

there was one time he saw you wandering around his floor. it was like you were kids again, peter shy around a girl and you feeling lost without him. he tried to talk to you, but you were down the stairs before he could say hi.

he’s had enough. he needs to understand what he did. he needs to fix this. forget the crush, you’re one of his closest friends. he misses you.

you open your door after three knocks. you’re not sure who it could be. your parents aren’t exactly well liked around here, and you’d never invite someone over. peter is standing outside getting ready to knock again.

he lets his hand drop, clenching his jaw out of nerves. you only poke your head out. “um, hey.” his voice is soft, high. you squint at him in confusion. he takes that as his cue to keep talking. “i haven’t seen you in a while. thought i’d check in.” “yeah, i...” your eyes drop down to his feet. he’s shifting his weight. “i’ve been busy.” “everything okay over here?”

he thought maybe your parents got that divorce you were always suggesting. that would explain why you’ve been home more. you nod quickly. “it’s just me right now. i’ve been going to the library after school.” so, they didn’t. you’re just avoiding them and him. he tries not to sound hurt. “oh, okay. can i come in?”

peter can count on one hand the amount of times he’s been over. it was usually to pee or get a snack on your way up to his place. you’ve never spent much of your time here.

“uh, sure. they’ll be back soon, though.” you pull the door open fully, stepping aside so he can come in. you’re still not looking at him. “this won’t take long,” he tells you lowly.

you’re in your room. you on your bed, peter standing in front of you. you finally meet his eyes. they’re glossy. he wants to say something, blurt something out. you can tell. the longer you look at him, the closer he gets to coming out with it.

“i’m sorry, y/n. i put you in a weird place,” peter gets out, eyes pleading with you. you rub your arm distractedly. you don’t say anything. “i thought... i thought you liked me back.” shaking your head, you take in a breath. “it’s not about that, peter. i do.” “then what is it? what did i do?” he’s on the verge of tears. you can hear it in his voice, see it on his face. you have to look away again.

“nothing.” peter closes his eyes to keep the tears in. his lip quivers. “n- nothing? i don’t understand.” “what if...” you let out a shaky breath. “sit.” he takes the spot next to you. he’s not sure if you want him too close right now, so he leaves space between you two. “what if we do end up dating, and one day we break up?” you give him a knowing look. “i think that’s how relationships work,” he murmurs.

“but we’re different, peter. i’d... i’d have no where to go.” your voice gets quieter when you say the last part. he’s confused for a second, then he realizes what you’re talking about. he instantly grabs your hand. “you never have to worry about that. no matter what happens between us, you’ll still have me. may, too.” a hopeful smile pulls at your lips, but it doesn’t meet your eyes. you’re scared.

peter squeezes your hand once, then again when you turn away. he moves closer to you so your legs are touching. you need him. you drop his hand so you can wrap your arms around his neck. he holds you close, arms around you as tight as they can be.

“promise?” you whisper, your chin on his shoulder. he nods and pulls you into his chest. “i promise, y/n. i’m not going anywhere.”

four years later and he hasn’t broken it. you both stayed in the city for college, and now you’re moving in together. it’s your last year.

this wasn’t easy for you at first. you kept getting the urge to leave, to end things before they got messy. peter was patient. he reassured you whenever you had your doubts. he made sure to kiss you a little harder if you hadn’t seen each other for a while. he cuddled a little closer to you after the rare fights you had. you eventually started to believe it. peter loved you, and the bad days wouldn’t change that.

you’ve never felt more at home than in your cute little apartment on the upper east side. the two of you decorated it the way you’d imagined as kids when you played with barbies. only, your dream house was smaller. smaller, but definitely you and peter. may is your first guest. she brings you a cactus as a housewarming gift, which goes right by the front door. your friends and peter’s come over the next few weeks.

you don’t need to escape to peter’s place anymore, or spend every night listening to muffled yelling from your kitchen. you’re safe in his arms forever. he’s so happy he gets to hold you.

they say everyone needs a place to live, but love is what builds a home.

#tom holland #peter parker fluff #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker angst #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland imagine

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