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rafeandonlyrafe · 8 months

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flashing lights

words: 2.4k

warnings: 18+ only, brief smut, p in v sex, model!reader (a bit of influencer too but primarily a model), soft rafe, marriage, pregnancy

“so thats your new girl?” topper asks, eyes on you as you twirl to the music, long legs on show in the simple black dress.

“yeah, shes here for a month on vacation.” rafes also looking at you, unable to let his gaze stray, in case a man comes up and attempts to dance with you. you may not be an official item yet, considering you only met a couple days ago, but rafe is determined to spend the entire month that you’re here with you, and not let any other men pull your focus away.

“she looks so familiar.” the voice rings out before rafe even realizes that there's other people now sat in the circle of chairs and couches, too wrapped up in you.

the girl, who rafe recognizes from high school, begins to tap on her phone. “wait, shes a model.” “yeah, she told me.” rafe shrugs it off. he could have guessed your profession anyways, with how naturally stunning you are, and your height almost rivaling his, only a few inches shorter.

“no, like really famous model.” the girl turns her phone towards rafe, and he hates having to drag his eyes away from you to look at the screen, pulled open to a google search of your name.

“holy shit!” topper says for rafe, taking the phone from the girl as he clicks the first link to open up your instagram. “she has 20 MILLION followers, rafe.”

rafe glances from the phone to you as you turn to smile at him, still dancing to the music, glad to be free of all the attention and camera flashes. its why you chose the outer banks in the first place, somewhere more tucked away to take a month away from the spotlight.

“why are you so surprised, look at her.” rafe states before standing up, tired of letting you dance alone as he joins you on the makeshift dance floor, his hands coming to your waist as you give him a dazzling smile.

-- two years later --

camera lights flash and shouts ring out, but rafe is used to it now.

he smiles and waves, shocked that anyone would care about him, a nobody from north carolina, his only claim to fame is being your boyfriend, for a little over two years now.

rafe walks inside, having enough of the screaming and crowds as he takes in the area, chairs set up along a runway, a large prada sign on the white wall. your prestige has only grown since rafe began to date you, despite coming back to the outer banks several times to take a break and visit him. since rafe began to travel with you, you’ve gone from paris to milan to new york to london, gracing the covers of magazines and walking runways.

he tries to attend every show, taking on a pseudo-management role himself. your favorite part is dressing rafe in the mornings, having received clothing from so many brands, both mens and womens fit. rafe lets you choose, knowing you have the eye for fashion, and he loves to see how happy you get when he wears your outfit.

rafe walks through the seats until he finds the one with his name on it, front row. he sits down, scrolling on his phone as people begin to file in until the room is packed full.

he waits as the show begins, models walking down the runway. they don’t shine to him, not like you do when you step out, your face blank in the typical model expression as you strut down the runway, dressed in all denim with a pair of chunky sunglasses on your nose.

rafe is in awe every time he sees you work, whether its watching your fluid poses during a photoshoot or your long legs stomping down a runway.

he waits with bated breath for your second outfit, changing into a slouchy menswear-esque ensemble, only pulled in at your waist as the fabric swishes around your ankles.

he claps when everyone steps out for the final walk, but he doesn’t cheer for the designer, even if it is prada, as he makes eye contact with you, only ever a brief glance while you're walking the runway, knowing if you look for too long you will become entranced with his handsomeness.

rafe waits for you after the show along with some of the other family members or partners of the models, long after all the celebrities have gone, either to an afterparty or on to a different show.

“hey baby.” rafe smiles when you step out, hair still slicked up in a ponytail, face caked with makeup, but now in a pair of loose jeans and a plain white crop top.

“hi handsome.” you coo, pressing your lips against rafes. “did you like the show?” “i liked you in the show.” rafe says pointedly, making you blush. “are we going to the afterparty?” “nah.” you shake your head. “i have that carolina herrera show in the morning, and i want to spend some time with you.”

“i’ll never argue against spending alone time with you.” rafe says, slotting his arm around your waist as you exit the building, surprised when photographers are still waiting outside. you wave briefly before rushing towards the car, knowing the picture of you and rafe are bound to be spread all over instagram and pinterest before you even make it back to your hotel room.

“rafe, i’ve got a question.” you hum, stepping out onto the balcony, eyes looking to the ocean. you’re on a paid for vacation by a makeup brand, simply wanting a couple instagram story posts using their products in a get ready with me. you are supposed to be relaxing the rest of the time, but you crept onto your phone to read the latest email from your agent.

“what is it babe?” rafe asks as he pulls you down onto his lap, scantily dressed in only his swimsuit, not that you have worn much other than a bikini this whole trip.

“what would you think about me doing a lingerie photoshoot?” you haven’t accepted any jobs that would call for you to show off a lot of skin or be paired with a male model since you started dating rafe, lucky to be in a place to reject jobs.

“who is it for?” rafe asks.

“calvin klein. i wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t them.” you admit. you find their style of black and white classic photos far more tasteful than traditional lingerie pictures.

“as long as i can be there during the shoot.” rafe says. he’s taken the role of your advocate and protector during photoshoots, easily able to read your face and speak up for you if needed, considering sometimes the models voice gets drowned out.

“of course.” you nod.

“then absolutely.” rafe pulls you in closer to his body. “i need a new lockscreen anyways.”

you roll your eyes but can’t help the laugh that bursts out of you as you turn towards the ocean, watching the waves roll onto the sand.

you step out behind the curtain, a tight fitting sports bra contrasting the loose jeans, slung open and zipper undone to show off your underwear as well as the calvin klein jeans.

you look over to rafe, who has his bottom lip pulled between his teeth as his eyes skate down your bare torso.

you most over to the white backdrop as the photographer begins to test the lighting, taking occasional snaps as things are adjusted.

the photoshoot is run just like any other and you’re finished faster than expected considering they’re solo shots and no change in location or background.

you keep the underwear and jeans on, simply throwing on a sweatshirt before getting into the taxi home with rafe, this time to your new york city apartment, having collected various homes and apartments around the world, depending on wherever you were doing business at the time. you consider the outer banks home though, returning every extended break with rafe.

“did you like the shoot?” you ask when you get home, rafe laying on bed while you tug the sweatshirt and jeans off, leaving you in just the calvin klein bra and panties.

“get over here.” rafe says, not caring about your question. he’s been desperate for you since you appeared from behind the curtain, not even trying to hide it as he watched the photoshoot, your eyes occasionally moving to him, giving him reassurance you were still good.

rafe makes you keep the underwear on, simply pulling it to the side once he’s got your back against the mattress to slide his cock deep inside of you. you push the sports bra up to let your breasts free, rafes palm instantly coming to cover your tit as he thrusts into you.

“i think you should do more shoots like that.” rafe says with a moan, cock pulsing inside of you.

“its nice to be back home.” you sigh, quickly applying some makeup, mostly just mascara and a glowy primer.

“agreed.” rafe kisses your shoulder, watching over your shoulder as you finish and then adjust your white dress, having decided to take a couple pictures on the beach for you to post as well as just enjoy a walk on the sand.

“alright, i’m ready.” you hum as you slip on your sandals. you lace your fingers with rafes before stepping out the back door. “you look handsome by the way.”

the suns golden light illuminates his skin. his outfit is simple, closer to what he wore before the fame. a simple white button down, loose fitting and you are sure would look delicious unbuttoned, showing off his muscles.

“thank you baby.” rafe presses a kiss to your cheek, leading you down the beach until you come across a picnic set up. you glance around before realizing its for you.

“oh my god, its just like our first date!” you gush, stepping away from rafe to look at the spread.

“before we eat, i have a question to ask you.” you turn around to realize that rafe is on one knee, a velvet jewelry box in his hand.

“oh, rafe.” you press your hand to your mouth, tears already coming to your eyes as he opens the box, revealing a sparkling diamond ring. “will you marry me?”

“how am i supposed to look good next to a literal model?” rafe asks as he looks towards the camera, looking almost nervous for once in his life.

“we’ve taken pictures together before rafe.” you roll your eyes, adjusting your wedding dress. it’s actually four weeks after your wedding, but you wanted to get professional photos done with your new husband and asked one of your photographer friends who was more than willing to let you into their studio if they could post some of the photos on their instagram and website.

“mirror selfies and shit, this is more serious.” rafe says as you tug him over to the backdrop.

“you look so handsome, babe. don’t worry.” you smooth your hands over his shoulders. “just think back to our wedding day, we took so many pictures then.”

“i was too distracted by how excited i was to marry you.” rafe says, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder, the oscar de larenta dress you ended up deciding on being off the shoulder. it was a simple dress, but the closer you got you realized how intricate the lace detail is. “you look just like you did on our wedding day though, baby. the makeup artists did a great job.”

“just tanner.” you joke, having gone on your honeymoon already.

you look as the photographer begins to set up their lens, before you turn to whisper to rafe. “you can’t tell?” you question, pressing your hand to your stomach. you know there’s no way you’d already begin to show, considering your baby is no bigger than a seed, but that doesn’t stop you from getting worried about your pregnancy being discovered early.

“not at all.” rafe shakes his head, but can’t hide the smirk that comes to his face, knowing your tummy will soon swell with his child, having made sure of it many times on the honeymoon.

“i was thinking about how we could announce the baby.” you tell rafe as you pad into the kitchen. he’s still making the decaf coffee you were absolutely craving, more syrup and milk than coffee.

“how?” he hums, glancing over at you as you lean against the counter, rubbing your stomach, bump now obvious as you’re over 6 months along. you have managed to keep it a secret so far, saying you were taking a break from modeling to focus on your new marriage. there is of course a lot of speculation that you are pregnant, but it is to be expected.

“calvin klein shoot. like before, except i’ve got a big ol’ bump.” you laugh as rafe finishes you coffee off with some whip cream before sliding the mug to you. “and you can be in it too.”

rafe rolls his eyes as you giggle. “come on! the girls love you, you’re so handsome.”

“i’m not a model.” rafe argues back, but he already knows he’s going to agree, he’d do anything for you, his pregnant wife.

“yeah, but you’re hot like a model.” you shrug, taking a sip of coffee.

“i think this is just an excuse to get me shirtless and in underwear.” rafe laughs, pressing a kiss to your upper lip, cleaning off the whip cream that sat on your cupids bow.

“yeah, and what about it?”

“you know theres some hormone to make women forget the pain of birth?” you hum to rafe, keeping your voice soft. “because if you remembered then no one would never do it again.”

“really?” rafe whispers, his voice also hushed as to not wake the sleeping newborn cuddled up in his arms, wrapped in a soft hospital banket.

“yeah.” you nod. “but i don’t wanna forget a moment of this.”

“im sure you wont baby.” rafe kisses your head as your tiny daughter squirms in his arms, letting out a yawn in her slumber. “i suppose i need to use a different name for you now that we’ve got an actual baby.”

you giggle, resting your head against rafes shoulder as you look down on your perfect little girl, already an adorable mixture of you and rafe.

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heartsofminds · 3 months

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if you could see my thoughts, you would see our faces

“I do a lot of things you don’t do. Doesn’t mean you should be knockin’ yourself out to try ‘em.” or Carmy takes an impromptu smoke break and you're begging him for a drag.

A/N: just a sweet little blurb that's been sitting in my back pocket for a while. hope y'all love it as much as i loved writing it!

Smoke breaks never last forever.

The cacophonic slam of a door, the pliable edges of a pack of American Spirits, the grooves of a lighter’s spark wheel, the mix of brisk Chicago wind smacking your face, and the heat of a silently shameful cigarette caressing it in a false sleeve of comfort – The world is silent during a smoke break.

Until the door opens and someone asks to bum a light. Or until you get called back in because everyone and their goddamn mother in River North decides to come in to try the dinner special, yet pretend like they’re actually fucking curious to know what you think the best thing on the menu is. Or until the ignored panic in the back of your mind knocks the wind out of you when taking a particularly long drag that leaves you stifling a deep and hearty cough.

The small moment of peace before it all still remains good. The moment of peace is fine. The moment of peace is all you can afford to get sometimes.

A smoke break never lasts forever, but the temporary solace it provides is enough for Carmen, whose brain never seems to stop spinning no matter how fast or slow the world is turning without him.

He’s gotten better, he thinks, about voicing his discomfort and finding ways to “cope” with his feelings of metaphysical spiraling. He’s still getting the hang of this whole “finding meaning outside of the kitchen” thing, but he figures that twenty-eight years of having your worth summed up in how well something was chopped or seasoned or sautéed or whatever the fuck is ridiculously hard to disengage from.

His therapist would kill him if she knew that he credited a portion of the advancement of his well-being to you. He can hear Erin tell him that he can’t rely on people to make him feel better; that the only person who can determine Carmen’s worth is Carmen himself, but quite frankly he doesn’t give a fuck.

And then he remembers that not giving a fuck is him making his own decision about his life (which he was never allowed to do before, which is why he thinks he was damned to hell to pick the profession he has), and his heart swells a bit with pride. He cares about something for once that has all to do with him and the meaning of life and living and being alive and in charge, and that idea is no longer a room with a false ceiling that can cave in at any moment.

He doesn’t give a fuck because he does give one, and he has never known that something as simple as being loved, fully and authentically, was something that would make all the difference.

Despite not being stressed out nor having a “real” reason to smoke (except for the fact that he’s a creature of habit, and you seem to love the word “addicted” even though he disagrees), he finds himself lifting the window near the fire escape of his apartment and stepping out onto the rusted steps that are less than functional and whips out his lighter and the red cardboard package harboring his cigarettes.

The lights are off in the apartment and the soft whistling of the heater helps him make sense of the foggy window glass. Chicago is nightmarishly cold in November, yet his body doesn’t seem to mind the teen-digited temperature that plagues the indigo-hued 1 AM sky.

Carmy loved in living in the city (and the actual city of Chicago and not Naperville or Joliet or Downers Grove like all the other self-proclaimed “Chicagoan” jagoffs that littered the outskirts of the city for sleep, but polluted it for play).

He liked living in New York City but he loved living in Chicago. New York was too noisy which, he knows, is so fucking ironic given the fact he lives in the heart of all things bustling and boisterous.

But New York had the kind of noise at night that was isolating; the sounds of cars honking and the squeal of the subway telling the stories of a million different lives of a million different people that he didn’t know.

New York City is the largest city in the United fucking States, yet a twenty-two-year-old Carmen could not have felt lonelier while he was there. New York City is the perfect city in the United fucking States to go soul-searching in, and yet a twenty-two-year-old Carmen could not have been more clueless about who he was at the time.

And he’s still figuring out this “thing” called having an identity and finding peace, and he’ll never feel like he knows a whole lot about anything, but he does know two things for certain.

He fucking loathes feeling lonely and he fucking despises feeling clueless.

Chicago is noisy, but the kind of noise that sends an irritated streak of comfort down your spine; the hatred of your twin bed and its mismatched sheets in your childhood bedroom, but the comfort of knowing a refreshing and safe sleep is to follow that night. It was the kind of noise that filled living rooms on Christmas Day or the backyard on the Fourth. It was the sound of a vacuum cleaner running on an early Saturday morning during the first week of summer break and the ticking of kitchen timers and arguments and laughter and tears of all kinds.

He was always reluctant to come back. His pride is something he holds close to his chest but wears with quiet confidence. He would rather die than it seem as if he ran away from New York back home with his tail between his legs. He would rather die than admit to himself that Chicago is where he was meant to be and where he should have always been. He would rather die than admit that through his fucked childhood and even fuck-ier adulthood (Thank you Mikey and Mom and NOMA and Chef David), the city is his safety blanket.

Carmen hasn’t been back to the house since the incident five Christmases ago. Everyone mutually (and very silently so as to not piss his mom off even more than she always perpetually seemed to be) decided that Christmas Eve dinner is much better suited for Uncle Jimmy’s house. When Natalie called on the phone to let him know about the change of venue the following year, he had known from her tone that another Richter scale meltdown had occurred once their mother found out.

From then on he found ways to stay away; to stay put and to put his life on hold and it was the closest thing he could get to not breathing with, you know, still actually fucking breathing.

And it worked for a while. It worked for one thousand eight hundred and twenty-five days, to be exact.

But then Mikey died and then there was a restaurant and then there was every relative that had ever known of his existence knocking down his door and begging him to let them in; asking him if he was okay and prodding him with questions about any and everything in between his mom driving her car into the fucking house and his brother deciding croaking was better than sticking around this hell hole.

And it’s crazy, he thinks, how him simply observing the weather and thinking about possibly smoking a cigarette before bed created this rabbit hole of what would usually be the beginning of an anxious spiral.

Fucking Christ, I need a cigarette.

His fingers create an unrecognizable beat on the package of cigarettes in his hand and he takes the first step out onto the fire escape.

Carmen’s body weight bares down on a piece of the wired metal and it groans in protest. The sounds of tires passing through slush on the road create soothing white noise for his ears. The thin blue henley shirt he has on does little to shield the wind from icing his skin, but he doesn’t mind.

He can’t chance going back inside to fetch his jacket. The coat rack near the front door lies at the end of a pattern of creaks from your apartment’s shitty floorboards. You’re not a light sleeper in any sense of the word (nor are you entirely sober right now), but he knows that he never places that one particularly decrepit plank of wood right, and the noise will jolt you out of your slumber.

His nimble fingers swiftly pull a cigarette out of the carton. He cups it with his left and uses his right to cradle the flicker of his lighter. The orange flame disappears as fast as it had been kindled and he inhales deeply and his exhale is shallow.

Carmen had been smoking since he was fifteen, but he never really had a reason to do it other than Mikey did, and it was a way to spend more time with him. It was their little secret; something that was his and Mike’s and something that seemed like a big deal at the time but would mean jack shit the second he turned eighteen. He never really loved the way cigarettes smelled. He could hardly stand the taste and the constant health class lectures about them being bad for your lungs freaked him out.

But now that he knows what it feels like to have no thoughts in his head and be left alone in the solace of smoking a cigarette in the dead of night, he thinks he gets it.

The silence is cut in half by the sound of the rickety floorboard groaning out in a warning. He doesn’t have to peek his head inside and look around to know that it’s you. You never sleep well after a night out and even though he had to carry you up the stairs, drag a damp washcloth over your face to remove your makeup, and bribe you to stand up long enough to take out your own contacts, he should have known better than to be anywhere but in bed next to you.

Your drunkenness has started to fade and you’ve gone down on the meter from “off your ass” to “slightly tipsy.” Him picking you up from your girls’ night at one of the clubs downtown was more than two hours ago, but he figured you would’ve came and found him by now.

You have such a fear of missing out and while it’s not Carmen’s favorite thing about you, it does warm his heart to know that you want to spend time with him or that you’re scared he’s doing something interesting without you around. He wishes your ‘fomo’ was based on some issue that he could tangibly fix and not on what he knows is your badly bruised self-esteem. It makes his chest heavy that sometimes you can’t see how great you are; that sometimes you don’t understand why he wants you around and loves you so dearly.

He can hear your footsteps approach the window ledge and he wordlessly holds his arm out for you to grab onto. Your fingers come out from under the blanket you’ve thrown over yourself like a shawl and grasp his like a lifeline.

Your body effortlessly molds to him; your front pressed to his back and his unoccupied arm pulling you closer like a seatbelt on your waist. The subtle pressure on your midsection comforts you and your body lodged into his helps alleviate some of the sting he’d been suffering from the cold.

“You’re mad at me,” you speak. Your voice is small and soft; gentle just in case he really is mad at you and this isn’t something your drunk mind conjured up as you lay in bed alone.

He sighs and turns his head to take another drag from his cigarette. He makes sure that your hair is out of target of his smoke exhale. A subtle whine leaves your throat as he steps away from you and he grins. Carmen loves when you’re like this; when you’re clingy and being near him is never enough to satiate you.

“M’not,” he says. You shift from one foot to the other and his eyes momentarily gaze down to make sure you put on socks before you come out here to join him.

Even though he can’t see your face, he knows that the corners of your mouth are posed in a frown. You hate it when he doesn’t elaborate. It makes you feel shut out. He’s not helping his case of denying your accusation. You may just burst into tears if he doesn’t provide more dialogue.

Your nasty habit of feeling like everyone is upset with you all the time is swelling. His nasty habit of smoking more cigarettes a day than he knows he needs is bulging.

Another drag from his cigarette. Another exhale of smoke. Another attempt at trying to be better for you.

“Can’t ever be mad at you, baby. Not with a face like that,” he croons. The words come out of his mouth so easily; endearment dipped in honey and love warmed by sunshine. Adoration is easy when it comes to you. He’s never known a peace like this.

“Sly dog,” you mutter. The brain fog from the four tequila lemonades you downed earlier makes you slow in finding a smartass thing to say. Carmen fights the urge to poke fun at you because he knows that you’ll take him seriously.

“I love you. I love you. I love you,” your words silently praise.

“You make it easy,” his hold on you acknowledges.

Your face is numb from the cold and the alcohol making its way through your system. The lips pecking a kiss against your temple can barely be felt, yet you contently hum once the damp seal of them releases the affection you’ve been longing for. He never makes you work hard for his undivided attention when he readily has it. Wordlessness crafts a cradle of comfort for you both. Soulmates in ways that soulmates usually aren’t.

Another drag from his cigarette. Another exhale of smoke. Another show of actually being better for you.

A beat of silence passes with the whistling of the wind.

“Can I try?” your voice is small with unacquired confirmation of what his answer will be.

He giggles and you’re mesmerized by the way the smoke exhales with each minuscule twitch of his chest. You turn around at the feeling and press your palms to his torso. It’s impossible not to admire him. You’re always starstruck but he makes it easy to be that way when he looks so peaceful and sweet and good.

Good for you. Good for your heart. Good for each other.

You make a mental note to tell him that he should wear this shirt more often but know deep down that you’ll forget to do so until it comes back clean in the laundry basket in a week. You need to work on that, you think; telling him that you love him when you feel it. Moments like this don’t last forever, and you fear for the day that the ooey-gooey feelings of love in its purest forms are fleeting. You know that Carmen makes it impossible, but you can never be sure. Much like he, you’re always half expecting the ceiling to cave in.

“Sweet baby wants to be a smoker?” he chides. He doesn’t feel bad when you flash him a pouty frown.

“Carm!” you gripe. Your cheek presses to his pec. You hate when he does this; when he can’t give a straight answer. It isn’t something that needs an answer, but the satisfaction of having one, of being connected to him and the inner world of his mind he tries so hard to keep from everyone, would feel nice.

Carmen’s tattooed hand snubs the cigarette out on the dish left on the ledge of the window. His fingers curl to let his knuckles brush the hair on the top of your head. You try your hardest not to melt into his touch. He’ll have a field day if you let him have the satisfaction of making you visibly weak in the knees.

“Didn’t even say no yet, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, but you’re being mean. Just tell me “no” instead of making me suffer.”

He quirks his eyebrow and brings a gentle hand to guide your chin upwards, forcing you to make eye contact with him.“Well, m’gonna if you don’t lose the ‘tude, baby.”

The shift in his tone of voice and the forced eye contact sends a beam of warmth down to your stomach. He has a way of leaving little leeway for negotiation and argument. It’s abstract to his everyday life, but that was complicated, you know. When it’s you and him and him and you, there is never a need for a fight for dominance or a clarification of authority. You both understand each other on a level that is molecular. There is never any need for guessing.

His finger flicks your lip playfully before swiping a calloused thumb gently on the plush of them. You had fought him so hard earlier when he tried to swipe the lipstick and liner you had put on earlier off with a washcloth. He finds it wild that you’re wide awake and coherent after witnessing the mild temper tantrum you had thrown about it not even two hours earlier.

Carmen spots the gentle gleam in your eyes and his heart instantly softens. He sighs, momentarily taking his hands off of you and reaching back in his pocket for his carton of cigarettes and lighter.

“Fine, but you gotta light it.”

The aforementioned cigarette sits unlit between his lips, the end sticking out like an invitation and the filter hid between his teeth like a dirty secret. He half expects you to chicken out when he hands you the lighter. You always freaked out a little about the flame being so close to your fingers. Something about feeling the heat so close to your hand made you insanely nervous and he could never seem to fully understand.

His expectations are exceeded when your thumbnail crafts friction with the spark wheel and the illuminated peach of his lighter of the month spurs to life. You don’t cup it with your hands to shield it from the wind. You let it grow and shrink as you lift it up to the unlit butt sticking out of his mouth.

Your eyes watch in childish awe as the wrapped paper gives way and reveals the hearty smell of tobacco and a sunburst of ashes upon making contact with the manufactured heat. You had watched Carmen smoke hundreds of times, but something about seeing it now right in front of you kindles a spark of curiosity deep in your belly.

“Can’t believe my sweet girl wants to puff on a cancer stick,” he says. You know that he’s joking, but his trying to get you to change your mind strikes a nerve deep within you.

“You do it so why can’t I?” you huff, agitated with him seemingly withholding the cigarette you so desperately crave.

“I do a lot of things you don’t do. Doesn’t mean you should be knockin’ yourself out to try ‘em.”

You roll your eyes. “It’s just one. Don’t be so mean.”

He pulls the stick from between his lips and creates a perfect “o” ring with the smoke in its wake. A dopey-eyed grin plants a home on his face and his eyes look deep into yours.

Fucking show-off.

“All it takes is one to get addicted,” he continues to smoke and the cigarette butt starts to diminish with each puff he takes, “You sure you wanna bite, sweetheart?”

“One won’t hurt.”

His gaze lowers to your lips and back up to your eyes. “Don’t wanna end up like me. All sad and addicted to cigarettes.”

“Carmen, please. I just want one,” you huff, lightly pushing his chest away. He moves slightly with your force and has to stifle a laugh.

“They ever show you Teri the Smoker in health class?” Carmen takes the cigarette out of his mouth and pretends to examine it, faux and forced curiosity at the cylindrical tube sitting between his lithesome fingers. He’s not giving into you on purpose, you know, and he’ll give in eventually, you also know, but him trying to delay the gratification of getting what you want is starting to annoy you more than it usually would.

“Yes? What does that have to do with anything?”

He pops it back in his mouth and takes an obnoxiously long drag. “Nothing,” he breathes out the smoke with his statement, “Just funny that you know that and here you are, damn near hands and knees, gagging for a cigarette.”

“Carmen.”

He laughs and you can’t help but love the sound.

“You know, it’s real fucked up of you to ask for a drag from my cigarette that I get with my hard-earned money,” he says and you roll your eyes, “You should know I love you too much to let you stick a cancer stick in your mouth.”

“It’s just one!” you plead.

“It’s never just one, sweetheart.”

“Well, who says’m gonna get addicted like – like you and Teri the Smoker?”

“The nicotine content on the carton. That’s who.”

He’s not paying you any attention and it’s starting to ache your heart a little. You know that he’s distracted; that he’s just trying to prevent the ashes from getting on your blanket and from getting the smell of smoke in your hair, but him biting at your insistence a little less than he was previously sends a pang of gloominess through your chest.

“You smoke all the time, and if you get a hole in your throat because of that then you’re so mean.”

His lips upturn in introspection.“M’mean?”

“Very,” you answer dryly.

“Humor me.”

“Because then I’ll have to live the rest of my life without hearing your voice again and then I’ll be so sad.”

He shrugs, half knowing that you’re joking but half expecting something more to come out of what you’re getting at. “Ehh, don’t think anyone at the restaurant would miss it.”

“I would!”

You smack at his chest again lightly and he remembers how touchy and wild you get after you’ve been drinking. It’s never bad or out of control, but you’re more affectionate than usual and less gentle than you normally are.

“Yeah, baby? Gonna miss my voice?”

“Mhm,” you purr, leaning up to get closer to his ear, “Gonna miss how you call me a good girl. And how you whine when I pull your hair and how you tell me that I’m the tightest and wettest little th-”

“Jesus,” he laughs, playfully pushing the side of your face away as your teeth nibble a tiny bite on the thick of his palm, “Fuck off.”

You like to play around, too. That’s also something he sees more of after a night out. He never indulges; knows you get too riled up and in your head when it goes somewhere he’s not comfortable with, but he loves it nonetheless. Being together has helped the other not be so scared of permanence. Moments like this confirm what he knows, and he realizes that you’re a saint and he wants to marry you.

The stuff that comes along with it has been plaguing his mind as of late, but he realizes how little it matters when he sees you all happy and grateful to be around him and doing the most mundane of things. He’ll get you that ring and that house and those babies and the happiest fucking life in a heartbeat, and he’s oddly comforted by the fact that he knows you’ll let him.

Carmen’s never been the best at not wearing his feelings on his face and you know he’s deep in thought when the banter dies and the whistling of the wind takes its place. You hope he isn’t spiraling. He tends to do that a lot. You tend to feel powerless when it happens.

Your eyes study his face; the lightness of his irises, the spiral of curls, the slope of his nose. The tequila from earlier remains in your system, but it doesn’t change the fact that you love him so deeply.

“You know, it’s bullshit that you’re giving me hell about putting a cigarette in my mouth.” Your voice cuts through the quiet and he starts to grin again.

“Hey, s’only bullshit because you’re sittin’ here beggin’ and then telling me I’m gonna have a fuckin’ hole in my throat from smoking too much.”

“I never said that it was gonna be bad, Bear. I just said I was gonna miss hearing your voice is all.”

His free hand comes out to sit on the base of your neck. A calloused thumb draws small semi-circles on the bottom of your hairline.

“You know, her quality of life was probably amazing,” he speaks, “Like didn’t she have kids and grandkids and friends and shit? Health class is fucked up for making her out to be the ‘throat hole lady’.”

“You shouldn’t say that,” you grimace and he plants his lips on your forehead.

“Yeah, you’re right.”

You make him softer. If it was anyone else, he wouldn’t think twice about how insensitive it had come off. His therapist is always saying people can’t make you better, but she clearly hasn’t met you.

“But that was kinda the whole point? You shouldn’t want to be like her?” you pause and the frown lines in your eyebrows write “pensive” on your face before you even realize it, “. . .Because she does have a hole in her throat. And her quality of life was just very. . .different?”

Carmen nods. “They’re fucked up for that.”

“Jesus, Carm. Do you think smoking is bad or not because you’re giving me soooo many mixed signals here,” you sigh, your forehead moving forward faster than you intended and hitting the bony composition of his collarbones.

He hums softly; part listening to what you’re saying and part acknowledging that he wants to move on from what you had said.

“Did you know that your life expectancy goes down by eleven minutes or some shit like that each time you smoke a cigarette?” he swiftly changes the subject.

You pick your head up and narrow your eyes playfully. “Oh, you don’t even love me enough to let me smoke one so I can be put out of my misery a whole eleven minutes earlier when you die from smoking a gazillion packs a day and leave me all lonely and wrinkly.”

“I think you’d be hot wrinkly,” he replies matter-of-factly.

“I think you’d be hot if you let me smoke one.”

“You’re probably not gonna like it.”

“Okay.”

He realizes that the cigarette has pretty much burned itself out. There’s possibly one or two more drags left before he has to ash it out completely. He debates on whether he should let you have at it or silently take the last two and usher you back inside. If he chooses the former, he knows that he’ll feel bad if you don’t like it, and he worries that your realization will kickstart the unraveling of something almost perfect he’s found for himself. He can’t bear to take another loss in his life. If he chooses the latter, he knows you wouldn’t even be aware that he had smoked it entirely by himself, and that you’ll gripe and complain for the rest of the night and table the conversation for another time when he’s in a less resistive state.

“Carm, you have to give me a puff from it,” you complain, snapping him out of his thoughts.

He’s giving in to you. He always does. He doesn’t know why he pretends like he has free will when it comes to you.

“C’mere,” he beckons your face closer, “And don’t use your hands. You have that blanket on and I don’t wanna have to call Chicago Fire tonight.”

Carmen lifts his hand up to your mouth and gently laughs when you go cross-eyed to eye the filter sitting in between his pointer and middle fingers.

“You just inhale, hold it, and then breathe back out,” he instructs. He feeds the filter to your lips before suddenly pulling it back. “Don’t choke yourself out though. That uh – that won’t be good and then you’re really not gonna like it.”

Your neck extends to get closer to Carmen’s hand and you do what he says. You inhale, hold it, and exhale. You don’t think you’re doing it right (and he knows that you didn’t, but doesn’t say anything because he knows it’ll make you whiny) but you’re satisfied that he trusts you enough to try.

“Took it like a champ, baby,” he cheers, “So proud!”

He pushes the butt of the cigarette into the dish and your blanket-covered hands come up to palm his face gently. The plush of the cover feels soft against his stubble-covered cheeks, and your gazes catch each other’s.

A moment of tranquility. A moment of peace. A moment of love.

He so desperately wants to marry you.

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thewulf · 7 months

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Not Just Pals || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: Request - Hello darling! I have a request for you if you don't mind... It's a hangman x fem! Reader pen pals to friends to lovers kind of thing. Like maybe when he was in the academy someone put his name in this program to write to college students but joke on them because he got paired with reader and they hit it off almost instantly... Read Rest Here

A/N: Whew! This one was for whatever reason really tough to write! I changed it up a little bit but I hope you guys still enjoy it. :)

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader

Word Count: 3.9k +

T/W : Self-doubt

October 9th, 2014

Hi There Y/N,

I’m not sure how you’re really supposed to start one of these things? How are you supposed to go about talking to somebody you’ve literally never met before? Although the Navy/Army pen pal thing could be interesting. I’ll be honest, my buddy signed me up and I didn’t think I’d actually write anything down but then I got the email with your name on it, Cadet Y/N Y/L/N. Consider myself intrigued.

What’s it like up in New York? Is it cold? Do you get a lot of snow? It gets awfully cold down here in Maryland, so I have to imagine how cold it gets up there. I’m from Texas so I’m still adjusting to this weather… four years later. It’s not easy. I think it’s the hardest part of living in the northeast. I’d rather run a marathon with a thirty-pound pack on than sit outside in the snow for more than twenty minutes. I hope to get stationed somewhere warm when this is all set and done.

Your ‘about me’ says you’re going into the Air Defense Artillery after West Point… which is the exact opposite of what I’m doing. Consider myself doubly intrigued Cadet. What do you do? Fire missiles and rockets at jets? That can’t possibly be as much fun as firing them when you’re in the air. It’s cool just not nearly as cool as what I do, know what I mean? Maybe a close second though.

Have you even been in a jet before? I bet you’d like it. I obviously don’t know you, but I haven’t met many people who didn’t like it. There’s something so freeing about flying 1,000 miles per hour in a tiny silver tube. You should try it sometime. If this whole thing works out maybe I’ll even take you up one day, who knows?

I guess that was my attempt at 20 questions. Hopefully you didn’t find it too annoying. Hope to hear back from you soon!

Jake Seresin

November 23rd ,2014

Hello Future Lieutenant Jake Seresin,

I’m thrilled you actually decided to write. I’m glad my name was all you needed to pick up that pen. I have to admit you made me giggle a few times. You seem effortlessly funny Mr. Seresin. Even for a soon-to-be Pilot.

I find it comical you’re asking me about the weather of all things, Midshipmen. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do on an awkward first date? But to answer your question, yes it’s cold as all get out up here. But I’m from Indiana so I’m used to it. Doesn’t mean I didn’t wish West Point wasn’t in Georgia or something. Why’d they have to put all the Military schools in the north?

What was it like growing up in Texas? Did you ever see snow? One of my favorite memories from this place is watching my roommate (who’s from Florida) see and play in snow for the first time. She froze her ass off but had the day of her life. She also hates snow now. So, it looks like you warm people have that in common.

To sum it up I guess you can say we fire rockets and missiles. My professors always say, ‘If it sounds like rocket science, it is’. Basically, we need to protect the ground troops from the flying bastards aka you. Although we do love our American flying bastards. So, I guess that doesn’t knock you down too many pegs in my book. Do you think they matched us up because our jobs are the antithesis of the other? If so, somebody had a hilarious sense of humor.

I’ve never been in a jet, and I have no plans to either. I don’t think I’d enjoy it if we’re being honest. You’re talking to the girl who gets sea-sick on cruises and had to take a motion pill if we’re going to an amusement park. My lil brain can’t handle the motion. A character flaw as they say. I also have a sense that you wouldn’t go to easy on me, being Army and all. I’ll stick to my calculations and rockets.

Don’t tell anybody I wrote this, but I do think what you guys do is so badass. I work with a bunch of jealous Cadets who couldn’t make it into the Army Aviation division, they’re just bitter. When I was little my dad used to take me to the Blue Angels shows in Chicago whenever they made their way across the States. Kind of the reason why I wanted to be in the military in the first place. But only my dad knows that. And well, I guess you now too. So, keep my secret safe Mr. Seresin.

I know the weather is less than desirable, but I do hope you’re finding things you love in Annapolis! There are some of the best crab cakes I’ve ever had there.

Thanks for the smiles after a long week!

Your New Friend,

Y/N Y/L/N

February 16th, 2015

Future Second Lieutenant Y/N Y/L/N,

That has a right to it doesn’t it? Your name sounds good with a Second Lieutenant in front of it. Sorry it’s been so long since I wrote. Getting busy with graduation coming up and practical’s and all. It’s a lame excuse I know, but it’s all I got. I hope you know how big I smiled reading your letter to me. I read it about fifty times before I could write a decent response to you. You have a way with words that I haven’t read in a long, long time.

Was your father in the military? None of my family was. I also loved the Blue Angels when they came down to Houston for the air shows. I’d always beg and plead and finally my mom or sister would give in and take me. They’re also the reason I’m here. So, I guess we should thank them that we got to meet. Neither you nor I would be in these academies without them. Your secret is locked away in the drawer and safe in my head too. It’s super safe with me.

I’ll be honest, the food here is so damn good. I sure do miss my Texas barbeque, but the spread is better up over here. Plus, the snacks? I didn’t know there was different brands sold across the states and you guys have better girl scout cookies! That’s just not fair. I could’ve gone my whole life knowing that there were two versions of girl scout cookies and I got the worse version. I’ve enjoyed the move far more than I’ve regretted it. It’s the best thing I’ve ever done for myself. It doesn’t guarantee I’ll be a pilot, but it means I’m one step closer to getting there.

What all schooling do you have to do after you graduate this spring? Are you up for deployment soon? I’ve got a lot left to go. If I get picked after I’ve got a few years of flight school ahead of me. Then I’ll really be off. Wish me luck I make it!

With Love,

Jake

March 13th, 2015

Mr. Seresin,

I was getting worried! I thought it was something I had wrote. I’m glad it’s your negligence and not mine for the lack of communication. I forgive you though. It’s been stressful up here in New York as well. I luckily don’t have any practical’s I need to worry about. Just a few nuclear engineering classes are standing in between me and graduation.

I just have a year of Officer School (if I get selected that is) after this is all set and done come June. We have to apply this April so I’m getting a little anxious about the whole thing. I don’t really have a backup plan that I’d actually like to do so I really, really hope I get selected. Enough about me though, let’s talk about you. You’re going to get picked! Don’t let any bad thoughts get in between you and your goal. I think you’ll make a fine pilot Jake. You seem to have your wits about you which is the first step a lot of people miss.

My dad was in the Navy, like you. Don’t gloat though, it’ll ruin the finely crafted image I have of you. He was a deck hand or something like that. I wish I could ask him some more about it, but he passed when I was just thirteen. I just remember he loved being in the Navy. He loved everything about it. He made it seem like anything was possible with a passion.

I’m glad you’re enjoying the food and the girl scout cookies. It took me by surprise when I got Peanut Butter Patties instead of Tagalongs when I was down south for a winter. I’m so glad I grew up where the real GSC are sold.

I hope this letter brought you as much joy as yours brought me.

With the Same Love,

Y/N

(P.S. – Here’s my number if you’d like to text instead of write. No pressure!)

It had only been a week since you sent the last letter. Sure, you hadn’t really known the guy all too well but there was something so exciting about sending written mail. You felt like a little kid on Christmas waiting for a response from him. Who knew throwing your name in something so silly for your class would bring you so much joy.

You sat down on your desk setting your computer out front of you to study. Jake was right. It was an awfully busy time of the year. Applying for your future. Studying for you exams. When you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket you truly didn’t think much of it. It was only hours later when you finally closed the laptop shut that you went to check it that your face scrunched in confusion. You didn’t recognize the area code. It was then that it clicked that it could be him.

No pressure at all text! Hi there (it’s Jake).

You grinned reading it over and over again. That was quick! Maybe you made an impression? You sure hoped so. You hardly even knew what the guy looked like. You might’ve gone digging a little when you got his name. He was cute. Handsome even. But he seemed like that type. That arrogant pilot type. But even in just the two letters you received from him you got the hint that he wasn’t that type of guy at all.

I didn’t think you’d actually text me. It’s good to hear from you.

The messages between the two of you were infrequent at best as the semester ended. But he never failed to put a smile on your face. When you needed a pick me up you went through and read the messages that popped up.

On your graduation day you sent him a picture of you and a few friends in a cap and gown with the text: Beat you! You’re also looking at your newest Officer Candidate too!

You didn’t have to wait long for a reply. Your face only grew with glee seeing his response: Congrats Second Lieutenant. And future Captain. Knew you’d do it. You look beautiful as always.

Typing a quick reply, you hid your smile away just knowing your friends would make a stupid comment about the mystery man that always had you so smiley: You’re making me blush all the way up here in New York. I better get a picture next weekend when you do the same, future Lieutenant.

He came through on your request. When you got the text you could only smile. You spotted him in the picture immediately, your eyes drawn to him. He was so damned handsome. How lucky were you to get paired with a guy like that? Your smile grew further when you read the message: Lieutenant (and future pilot) Jake Seresin reporting for picture duty.

The messages occurred naturally between through the years as you were deployed, and he was in school. Some months you texted more and some you didn’t hear from him at all. It never bothered you. The silly little thing called life happened for both of you.

Still, the two of you often made time for phone calls when the time was right. The first time you talked on the phone you thought you were going to quite literally throw up you were so nervous. But in typical Jake Seresin fashion he made you feel cool as a cucumber. You talked and talked and talked into the morning. It felt so normal. Like you were catching up with an old friend. Jake Seresin. Who was this man that was making it hard to date? He was quite literally everything you wanted and needed in a partner. The universe had a funny way of working sometimes.

It had been six long years since you received that first letter from him. He was off on a mission now. A dangerous one he couldn’t tell you much about. But he wanted you at his arrival back home in San Diego and you promised him you’d be there. Assured him. That’s how you ended up in here pacing in the hotel room contemplating whether you should really go or not. It felt too intimate, like you were intruding. But he did say none of his family would be there, they had other things going on as the mission was a bit of a surprise to everybody. The pilots were all instructed to keep it as quiet as possible.

Your hands were shaking as you parked your car in the overcrowded lot. Gripping the steering wheel, you took a long breath in. You could do this. You had to do this. For him, for you. You stepped out of the car and made you way to the dock. The aircraft carrier was already docked by the time you got to the meeting site. You stood back and waited. Watched and waited. It felt like an eternity then finally the men and women started pouring out in their Navy Whites. You’d always thought they looked the sharpest of the bunch, but you’d never tell Jake that. He’d make fun of your Army uniforms or something like that.

It felt like both an eternity and seconds later that you spotted him amongst the crowd of sailors exiting the ship searching high and low for you. You promised you’d be there. And here you were. He either felt your eyes on him or had an uncanny sense of timing as his eyes locked with your own. His smile had melted you right there on the spot. You felt helpless as you willed your brain to move but it wouldn’t. You only began to panic a little as he moved with ease through the crowd making his way right to you.

He stood in front of you. Jake Seresin stood in front of you, much taller than you thought, “I knew I recognized you. First Lieutenant Y/L/N.” His eyebrows raised as you gaped at him with wide eyes as if he wasn’t really there. Closing your mouth, you knew you needed to pull it together but that sounded much easier said than done. Jake freaking Seresin, your pen pal was really standing in front of you in real life. He was more of enigma in your mind at this point. Somebody you could have deep life conversations with so easily but never having actually met the man it was hard for you to grasp he was really real. And standing in front of you.

“Jake.” You smiled hoping it sounded somewhat normal. He was so much more handsome than the photos he sent through the years. How was that possible? Wasn’t it supposed to go the other way? You continued once your head finally could form coherent sentences, “Well it’s actually Captain now. Got promoted a couple weeks ago.”

He turned his head to the side just slightly, “You didn’t tell me that.” Almost looking offended you hadn’t told him.

“Never felt like the right time to divulge. With this mission and all. Had to keep you locked in.” You looked up to him now studying his face as you gained more courage talking to him. He was something your dreams couldn’t make up.

He nodded not daring to take his eyes off you. He too thought you were even prettier than he could have envisioned. You’d sent pictures and he’d followed your social media, but nothing could’ve prepared him. Especially in your civilian clothes, he was a sucker already. Deep down Jake knew you were the reason he was so non-committal before. He was looking for somebody just like you and couldn’t find her. Yet here you stood in front of him. You were so funny and witty and smart, and yet he couldn’t put it all into words. You are the whole package and so much more.

“You still could’ve told me. We talked enough before I left.” He grinned seeing that the tension was already easing from your shoulders.

You shook your head, “Wasn’t about me Seresin. I just wanted you to stay focused and safe. And thank goodness you did.” You admitted a little more than you wanted, but he just made you feel so gushy. Like you were a sweeter version of yourself you could hardly recognize. And the words just kept flowing out when he gave you that look with those green eyes.

“Oh yeah?” He challenged you a bit sensing that you were starting to feel a bit more comfortable with him already, “Didn’t think you’d be so relieved darlin’.”

Ignoring the sweet term of endearment you shook your head, “And waste six years of my life on nothing? Jake that’s so inefficient. Of course, I want you safe.” The words came fast, and they were snarkier than you intended. But you truly couldn’t help it. He had you relaxed within the first five minutes of talking to him. You felt like you could just be you.

He threw his head back in laughter. That same weight had lifted right off his shoulders when you snapped back at him like he was waiting on it, “There she is. My favorite mouthy girl.”

He said it so nonchalantly you thought your heart was going to combust on the spot. Your cheeks surely gave way to your reaction to his words. His favorite mouthy girl? Christ. He was trying to send you into a coma or something! Your brain quite literally short circuited as it failed to form any coherent sentence. He only chuckled in response seeing your cheeks heat up in a blazing blush.

“It’s so nice to actually see you in person. You know I’ve always told you this, but it rings even truer even now. You’re quite a stunner, Captain.” His eyes met yours before you looked away quickly feeling as though you were going to faint at those words. You weren’t sure how this interaction was going to go initially. But you really didn’t think he’d come right out and say that he found you stunning. The occasional letter and texts in between had grown flirtier the longer you had known him, but it never crossed your mind he’d be so outright with it.

You turned away out of sheer bashfulness. Never had a man been so bold with you before. It was foreign. Not uncomfortable, no. Nothing could be with him. He made it easier than seemed possible.

“You flatter me Jake.” You grinned up at him hoping your makeup would hide the darkening of your cheeks, “I should say the same for you. Handsome as ever.”

“Now you’re making me blush, Cap.” Sure as hell the faintest pink dusted his cheek, but he seemed much stronger than you. He kept the eye contact going.

You shook your head trying to bite back the big smile you had on your face, but it showed through anyway. How was he doing this? Making you feel so giddy just by looking at him. You knew this man but for the first time it actually felt like you might actually love him. You’d had the deepest conversations with him. When you needed a laugh you texted him. When you craved advice you called him. He was the guy you turned to. And it dawned on you that he never failed to answer you. He wanted to take your calls and answer your texts. He looked forward to it. He too had fallen for a woman he’d never met before.

You needed the change the subject and fast or more words would be tumbling out, “How was the mission? Everyone make it out okay?” You asked having no idea what you were getting yourself into. Jake hadn’t told you much about what they were doing, couldn’t tell you much. But now that it was over he couldn’t wait to tell you every nitty gritty little detail.

“I’ll tell you if you let me buy you a drink?” He gave you a smirk that sent nerves racing throughout your body. Jesus. This man was something else.

Giving him a curious once over you nodded, “Shouldn’t I be the one buying you a drink sailor? You coming home and all?”

“Absolutely not. I’ll never let you buy me a drink darlin’.”

Gosh, Jake was actually going to be the death of you. He was so good making his words come off so easily. You felt terribly high strung next to him, “And why not?”

“Because I’m trying to woo you sweetheart. When I get you to go on a date with me I have to impress you. Inevitably that’ll work and you’ll become my girlfriend. And I can’t have my girlfriend paying for my drinks, no. And it’ll only get worse when I get the pleasure of marrying you. If my wife thinks she’ll pay for a thing she had another thing coming.” He gleamed at you as if he didn’t just say all of that.

You gulped before a stupid smile grew on your face. Of course, you knew he was forward but again, he just took you on an entirely new adventure with that statement, “That’s quite a bold statement Jake.”

He shrugged, “I thought I should make my intentions perfectly clear. I think you’re one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen. And you’re perfectly you. Sharp as tack. Funnier than ever. You’re you. And I really like you.”

You let out a breath not sure if you really believed all of that, “So not just pals, huh?” It was all you could think of quickly but that did it for him. Sealed the deal. He knew he was going to marry you right then and there. You’d complete him in every way he needed you and vice versa.

He shook his head taking his arm in yours, “Not just pals.” Leaning into his gentle embrace you led him to your car where he would not let you drive. He insisted that it was a gentleman’s job even if he was only running off four hours of sleep. You’d appeased the man who was on his very best behavior. Not that you minded. Nope, not at all. You were thrilled that Jake was exactly who he seemed to be. Your Jake. Not just pals indeed.

Jake Seresin/Top Gun: Permanent Taglist (If you'd like to be added to any or all works please fill out the form here: Taglist Sign Up) @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @mamachasesmayhem @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @illisea @jessicab1991 @guacam011y @dempy

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itsallyscorner · 1 year

Text

The Sour Tour | Marvel Cast

pairing: marvel cast x teen!reader

warnings: none

summary: the youngest marvel cast member goes on tour💜

a/n: this fic does not correlate with any other fics I’ve made that include the Sour album

face claim: Olivia Rodrigo

Liked by brielarson, robertdowneyjr, and 4,618,387 others

(y/n)(l/n) The Sour Tour has finally begun! Thank you (home state) for kicking it off to an incredible start! Can’t wait to see you all so soon🥹💜

view all 1,247,024 comments

brielarson my sweet angel baby

brielarson love you so much can’t wait to see you!!!!!!!!💖💖

(y/n)fan1 HERE WE GOOOOOOOOOO

(y/n)fan2 THE SET LIST??? CAN WE TALK ABOUT THE SET LIST

(y/n)fan3 HAPPIER THEN TRAITOR BACK TO BACK???

(y/n)fan4 ITS LIKE SHE WANTS TO SEE US CRYYY

(y/n)(l/n) bc I do🧍‍♀️

(y/n)fan5 WHAT THE FUCK

tomholland2013 FINNA BE IN PIT

(y/n)fan6 HE FINNA BE IN PITTTTT🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

zendaya @/tomholland2013 bro shut up

robertdowneyjr Wishing you the best of luck, see you soon bee🐝❤️

paulbettany You’re going to do great!!😃

lifeisaloha Love you fam🫶🏼

(y/n)(l/n) All the love Jacobbbb🫶

(y/n)updates I’m ready.

(y/n)fan7 you’re the harryflorals of (y/n) stans

(y/n)fan8 where’s (y/n)scloset????

(y/n)scloset I’m hereeeee🙋‍♀️

markruffalo Wishing you a FANTASTIC and safe tour❤️

(y/n)(l/n) thank you Mark!!❤️

Liked by chrisevans, imsebastianstan, and 5,293,735 others

(y/n)(l/n) North America tour dump✨🦋💜🎸🔮💿🎀

view all 3,945,824 comments

chrisevans can you just pls sign my poster?

chrisevans please (y/n) I’ve been waiting outside for 30 minutes and teenagers scare the shit out of me

anthonymackie get in line

imsebastianstan I was here first

mcufan1 ya’ll are actual children

evansfan1 @/chrisevans don’t act like we didn’t just see you and Scott going off during Good 4 u👀

elizabetholsen So so so proud!!🤩❤️

mcufan2 Lizzie these are very millennial emojis

(y/n)fan9 MOTHER

(y/n)fan10 MOTHER IS MOTHERING

scarlettjohansson You are the most incredible person I know, what an honor it was to see you live❤️

mcufan3 I SAW YOU AT THE NEW YORK SHOW!!!!!

letitiawright TO EUROPE SHE GOES!!! Can’t wait to see you💜

chrishemsworth can you please do a shoey when you come to Australia?

(y/n)(l/n) no❤️

(y/n)fan11 outta them Doc Martins?💀

(y/n)(l/n) @(y/n)fan11 I swear my feet don’t smell bad

Liked by markruffalo, anthonymackie, and 7,204,834 others

imsebastianstan ALL THE FLOWERS FOR YOU💐

tagged (y/n)(l/n)

view all 1,284,243 comments

elizabetholsen MY BABY❤️

(y/n)fan12 mother sighting

(y/n)fan13 the marvel cast is so cute

mcufan4 They really are her second family🥹

anthonymackie Wtf you went without me?

paulrudd I had a great time Sebastian🫶

paulrudd @(y/n)(l/n) you were phenomenal

anthonymackie YOU WENT WITH PAUL???

mcufan5 LMAOOOOO

mcufan6 NOT SEBASTIAN BEING UNRESPONSIVE

(y/n)(l/n) love you Paul <3

(y/n)(l/n) THANK YOU FOR COMING💜💜💜

vancityreynolds YOU BETRAYED ME.

(y/n)fan14 is his singing a lyric or is he also yelling at Seb?

mcufan7 Ryan what—

mcufan8 Seb what’s your favorite song off the sour album??

imsebastianstan Traitor and Favorite Crime

(y/n)fan15 Bucky coded.

mcufan9 i bet these are on his Bucky playlist

Chris Evans via Instagram Story:

—

Liked by tomholland2013, therussobrothers, and 6,349,934 others

robertdowneyjr You little legend you💜 What an incredible show @(y/n)(l/n) put on tonight at LA! Your talent, charisma, and presence made this such a memorable experience. This show was anything but Sour, the room was full of love and it’s all what (Y/n) deserves. Proud of you always, your Pops❤️

view all 4,248,394 comments

mcufan10 “Proud of you always, your pops”🥹

(y/n)(l/n) It meant so much for you and your family to come out tonight, thank you so much I love you all❤️

(y/n)fan16 I’m crying this is so sweet😭

therussobrothers Can’t wait to document such a legend

mcufan11 excUSE ME?

mcufan12 WHAT—

(y/n)fan17 A TOUR DOCUMENTARY???

(y/n)(l/n) coming soon on Disney+😉

Liked by zendaya, florencepugh, and 7,034,384 others

(y/n)(l/n) Quick pit stop⛽️

View all 3,493,245 comments

zendaya face card never declines

(y/n)scloset bestie where is the sweater in the fourth slide from?

(y/n)scloset unfortunately could not find it :(

(y/n)(l/n) my nana made it <3

(y/n)fan18 we love nana😌

tomholland2013 2 MORE WEEKS TILL IM IN PIT😎😎😎🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

anthonymackie shut up

zendaya you’re embarrassing me🫣

(y/n)fan19 TOM FINNA BE IN PIT YALL🔥🔥🔥

florencepugh you look better in my sunglasses than I do

(y/n)fan20 besties

(y/n)(l/n) I’ll give them back to you when I’m in London😌

haileesteinfeld my baby girlll😍

Liked by florencepugh, tomholland2013, and 8,834,238 others

(y/n)(l/n) UK BABY OI OI🇬🇧👑☕️

View all 3,204,349 comments

(y/n)fan21 OI OIIIIII

(y/n)fan22 she’s such a One Direction fan I love it

florencepugh you mystical, voice of an angel, fairy baby I love youuuu🧚‍♀️❤️

(y/n)fan23 FLO WAS AT NIGHT 1

(y/n)fan24 I CANT BELIEVE I WAS IN THE SAME ROOM AS FLORENCE AND (Y/N)

flofan1 The fact that Flo was backstage and not at the guest section🥹😭

mcufan11 WHERE IS TOM????

brielarson my cutie pie🥰

mcufan12 (Y/N) (L/N) WORLD DOMINATION

Liked by robertdowneyjr, zendaya, and 8,474,924 others

tomholland2013 told you guys I was finna be in pit😎🔥

view all 8,345,833 comments

imsebastianstan unbelievable

mcufan13 how was Tom even allowed in pit with all the fans???😭😭

chrisevans wtf bro

paulrudd OH so this is pit

mcufan14 not paul not knowing what pit is😭😭

anthonymackie she only let you into pit to make you shut up😒

mcufan15 Tom riling everyone up is hilarious😭😭

(y/n)fan25 I’m just as salty ac Mackie tbh..

tomholland2013 don’t be so jealous, there’s always next tour🤪

(y/n)fan26 was right next to Tom the entire concert and I swear I love the man, but he kept screaming in my ear💀

zendaya @/tomholland2013 can never take you anywhere man

(y/n)fan27 Tom’s just a fellow girly pop✨

#marvel #mcu #avengers #marvel cast imagines #marvel cast x teen!reader #marvel cast x singer!reader #mcu imagine #mcu cast x reader #mcu cast x teen!reader #avengers x reader #avengers x teen!reader #Chris Evans x reader #Sebastian stand x reader #Tom Holland x reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel cast fanfiction #elizabeth olsen x reader #robert downey jr x reader #scarlett johansson x teen!reader

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angel-eyes05 · 1 year

Text

a spider in the snow

pairing: fem!reader x miguel o’hara

summary: you help rehabilitate an injured miguel after he returns from one of his late night patrols…in more ways than one

warnings: nsfw, fluff then smut then fluff, handjob (both m and f recieving), blood mention, an incy wincy tincy bit of angst

word count: 2.5k

notes: heyyyyy i've come back from the dead. i don't really write a lot of one shots so go easy on me for this one. just like every horny person on the internet, i’ve fallen head over heels in love with miguel o’hara. this is me giving into my impulses lmao. sorry if i do anything thats out of character idk him that well so just work with me here. i also don't know everything about nueva york and if names are different than here or something so im just gonna pretend they’re the same. if they are, great! if not, just go with it lmao. one more thing, despite being cuban i am a no sabo kid (rip me) so i had to use a translator for some of this so apologies in advance if some things aren't super accurate. ok lets get on with the show.

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Snowy nights in Nueva York have always been one of your favorite parts about moving up north. Seeing all the lit up buildings illuminated in the snow, all the people ice skating in Rockefeller Center rink just below your apartment window, the reminders of Christmas coming soon. It kept your heart warm against the freezing temperatures outside. You also loved the feeling of being able to bundle yourself up in blankets and hoodies, a mix of yours and your boyfriend’s, having an excuse to make hot chocolate, and finally being able to use the fireplace that normally laid dormant in the middle of your living room. The one con about the snow was when it would land on Miguel’s patrol nights. Your already nervous mind was only heightened by the added uncertainty of everything that could happen while he was out there. What if he got too cold while out there and it affected his ability to fight? What if it started snowing too hard and he wouldn’t be able to find his way back to the apartment? You knew some of your concerns were probably dumb, but they felt serious to you.

This was one of those nights. One of the nights where you would sit on your couch, next to the cracked window, unable to sleep until you could see him come back safe. You flipped through the channels of the tv aimlessly, trying to find something to keep your mind off of the growing cold outside. You eventually turn it off after coming across the weather channel, claiming a snowstorm would be rolling into the city in about 15 minutes. Deciding there was nothing you could do about your situation, you walked over to your bedroom and wrapped yourself in your massive duvet to shield from the cold. Worries dashed around your mind about everything that could happen. Despite being verbally supportive about Miguel and his…hobbies, you really hated the idea of him sneaking out in basically pajamas almost every night to “beat up the bad guys” essentially. Even though he had explained everything to you by this point, having been dating for about three years now, you still couldn’t quite understand everything. Radioactive spiders? Corrupt businesses? Fangs and claws? Mutations? A multiverse? It was a lot to wrap your head around. But, despite all of this, all of your worries and concerns over Miguel, you stayed. Because you knew you didn’t start dating him because of his whole superhero business or whatever. You were dating him because you loved him. The real him. The way he would always press gentle kisses into the crook of your neck. How on his days off, you would be woken up to the smell of eggs and bacon cooking in the kitchen just for you. How he would always whisper sweet praises to you while you would give him head. How easily he could be crumbled down beneath his rock hard exterior. The Miguel underneath the red and blue spandex. You dreamt of this as you slowly fell into a calm slumber. You fell asleep bundled up in all the blankets on your bed, arm outstretched to the opposite side the bed, almost as if you were reaching for something that wasn’t there.

After some time had passed, you’re not sure exactly how much, you were awoken by a thud coming from your bathroom. You lazily rubbed your eyes and grabbed your alarm clock to check the time. 3:47 am. Yeah, that’s definitely Miguel in there. You dragged yourself out of bed to help him out, throwing one of this hoodies over your tank top for extra warmth. You also liked how it still smelled like him after three times in the wash. You opened the door, eyes squinting from the bright fluorescent light. And there he was. You found it endearing. How Miguel was trying, and failing, to reach this massive scratch on his back to clean it instead of just waking you up to ask for your help. You look to the floor to find a bottle of hydrogen peroxide sitting there on the rug, probably what caused the thudding sound. You stood there leaning in the doorframe, waiting for him to notice you, even though he probably already heard every step you’ve taken from the bed up to the door now. “You need any help there?” you ask him, jokingly. You had seen him in much worse conditions, so you took moments like these to be more comedic, an attempt to lighten his mood sort of. It didn’t usually work. “No, I got it. Please go back to sleep,” he said, still attempting to wrap his arms around himself. You rolled your eyes and walked over to sit behind him, picking up the hydrogen peroxide off the floor and grabbing a couple of cotton balls from the first aid basket. “Mi amor, please go back to sleep, I promise I can do this by myself,” he argued. Before he could get another word in, you poured some of the hydrogen peroxide over his wound. He groaned in response and squeezed your thigh to help level out the pain. “That’s for worrying me all night,” you said to him, just over the volume of a whisper. As you began to dab the blood off of his cut, he responded. “You know I don’t want you to worry.” Once you could see he was turning his head around to look at you, you turned your eyes away. You didn’t really want to look at him right now. It’s not that you were mad at him. Ok that’s a lie, you were a little mad. But it was more of a helplessness you felt when you would see him like this. Beat up, cut, scratched, bruised. And there wasn’t anything you could do to help. Not until after at least. And it wasn’t like you were a trained nurse or anything. You dreaded the day that he would come stumbling through the window, too injured for you to take care of yourself. Or worse. The day he wouldn’t come home at all. “Yeah, well that doesn’t mean I don’t,” you said sort of coldly. You stood up from your position, waiting to patch up his back until after he showered. You changed your positions to sit from behind him to in front, ready to take care of his front side now. “I don’t want to talk about that right now tho-.” You cut yourself off when you finally saw his face

Cuts were scattered across his face, one above his eyebrow still dripping blood catching your attention first. He also had a bruise quickly forming on his left cheekbone. Once you moved your eyes more, you saw his nose marked with a deep cut going through the middle. His beautiful nose. It was one of your favorite parts of his appearance. Done scanning his face, your eyes moved down to his chest and his torso. His chest was marked with similar cuts to the one on his back. You kept your eyes on his chest in an attempt to hide the fact you were holding back tears right now. “I’m sorry mi cariño. I really am.” You knew he was. But sorry wasn’t going to keep him safe. This was one apology among many. It didn’t really matter. He wasn’t sorry for getting hurt again and again and again. He was sorry for the fact you had to see him like this. If you wouldn’t have seen that he was injured, he wouldn’t have said anything And you knew after this apology as well, he would go out tomorrow night and do the same thing over again. You didn’t respond to his words. All you could manage to do was pull him into an embrace and apologize when he winced from your hands hitting his cuts. You sat there for a bit, running your hands through his hair and trying to hold yourself back from crying. He nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck and planted gentle kisses there, each a little apology from him. Once you finally pulled away and wiped your face, you started to clean the scrapes on his face, this time more gentle than his back. You dabbed the cotton ball on his forehead as he held you straddled on his lap. He admired your features as you concentrated on him, rubbing your back with his fingers in the process. You didn’t say much, only a simple “sorry” if you were a little too rough with cleaning. Despite the stern face you were putting on, Miguel knew you secretly liked the way he would grab at your thighs and hips with his claws when you did something that hurt.

Once you were finished, you silently put the first aid equipment away and left the bathroom so he could take a shower. He planted a soft kiss into your forehead before you left the room. Once you crawled back into bed, you sighed to yourself. How did you end up here anyways? There’s no way you were expecting all of this when you first saw Miguel at the concert bar that day. Some days were amazing with him. Others were much harder. And while you’ve definitely had worse days with him, today was leaning on the latter option. You contemplated all of this until you heard the door to the bathroom behind you open, Miguel stepping out of the steaming room with his towel wrapped around his lower body. You were very quickly reminded of one of the reasons you’ve stayed with him for so long. The way his wet curls were laying around his head. How his chest glistened while it was damp, despite currently being tattered with cuts at the current moment. He sleepily shuffled over to the bed, dropping his towel before crawling up close to you in bed. The warmth of Miguel’s freshly showered body against yours helped to melt the majority of your worries away. It also helped that you could feel his his cock getting harder against your leg while he cuddled against you. You finally turned around to face him, cupping his jaw in your hand and rubbing your thumb across his face. He grasped your hand and pressed soft kisses into it. “I love you so much Miggy,” you finally said, breaking the silence and drawing his eyes towards you. “I really do, and I’m sorry if I ever make it seem like I don’t. You just…you scare me sometimes.” You quickly realize those weren’t the words you meant. You begin to stutter and take back your words a bit, until you see that Miguel has given you his full attention. You take a deep breath and continue. “You don’t scare me. It’s more of what you do that scares me. I never know when you’re gonna come back or if you even are. If you think I take joy in taking care of you after you come back, I really don’t. I hate seeing my boy like this. And it makes me scared that one day you’re gonna come back in a shape I can’t fix. It scares me so bad Miggy you don’t even know,” you say, choking back your tears. Once Miguel notices you’re about to start crying, he wraps his arms around you immediately. “Shhh it’s ok preciosa,” he comforts as you quietly cry into his broad shoulders. “I’m so sorry for making you worry,” he says in between kissing the top of your head. “I promise I’ll make it up to you, and I love you too.”

You pull away from his hug and stare into his beautiful crimson eyes as he wipes away your tears. You suddenly fall into the overwhelming urge to kiss him. He returns the kiss with even more passion than you put into it. You quickly found yourself exploring his body with your hands, moans escaping his lips whenever you would graze over one of his wounds. You drew yourself closer to him to absorb more of his body heat, though you were quickly reminded of his bare cock as you could feel it hardening on your leg. Your hands eventually made it down there, teasing Miguel along the way as you felt him up on the way down. You then took his hard, already wet cock into your hands, caressing every ridge you could find on it. You could hear more moans exit his mouth and slide into yours as you handled him like putty. He would let out messier sounds, even a growl at one point, and jerk forward into your hand when you would tease around his tip. “F-fuck baby. Y-you’re s-so good to me. ‘N pr-retty too,” he would blurb out Feeling his cock get increasingly hard in your hand began to make you slightly wet as well. This only increased as Miguel began to take off your underwear as well, sliding two of his fingers into your pussy and placing his thumb to draw circles onto your clit. Your grip on his length becomes lazy and sloppy as you’re stimulated as well. You’re surprised at how quickly Miguel is able to find your clit, but then again you expect him to know your body so well after three years. After both of you have been at it for a while, you’re the first one to get close to your orgasm. “Fuck M-Miggy, I-I’m gonna cum,” you manage to moan out. His kisses on you get sloppy as he reaches his as well. It’s over for you once he begins to put more pressure onto your core. You let out an inhuman noise as your stomach fills with the white heat of your orgasm, shaking your entire body. Miguel takes his fingers out of your entrance and licks your cum off of his fingers. It’s then over for him when you eventually put the pressure of your fingers onto his cock. You hand is then covered in his cum once he reaches his climax in your fist, moaning intensely into the air. While he’s in the middle of his orgasm, his claws pop out of his fingers and into your hips and underneath your thigh where his hands are placed. Then, he lets out his fangs and uses them to leave hickeys into your neck, making sure not to let out any of his poison while doing so. “Just stay here with me Miggy,” you sigh out, his fangs deep into your neck. “You don’t ever need to go back out there again. Just stay here with me forever.” He simply nods at first, still sucking into your neck. Once he lets go and and begins to calm down, he responds with “Forever and always mi corazón,” whispering the words into your ear as he lays more kisses along your collarbone and neck.

You stare outside the window at the falling snow, hoping this time he’ll keep his word, but knowing deep down that he wasn’t going to. But for now, you could just appreciate your time with him now. He was all yours right now. Everything. And that was enough.

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A/N: uhhhh sorry but i didn't feel like proofreading this cause its super late for me rn sorry not sorry lmao

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #spiderman #x reader #smut #marvel smut #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderverse

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vaultdwellerbarbie · 14 days

Text

Juno

javier 'javi' rivera/f!reader (5.2k wc)

summary it really didn't take yourself and javi very long to fall in love. or to decide to get married... or to decide that you wanted children. nothing wrong with doing things a little unconventionally.

content warnings smut, unsafe sex (w/ the intention to get pregnant), slight breeding kink i guess, vaginal fingering, oral sex

she has risen babygirl!!!!!! i'm like kinda half asleep as i'm posting this so i'm so sorry about that but i hope you enjoy this! yes, it's just as horny as the song. please listen to the song juno by sabrina carpenter.

At some point, a point that felt like an eternity ago at this point, going to Oklahoma was just supposed to be a small trip. Your friend Kate had let you know that she was going back to the place where she was raised on a whim, and you offered to go with her because you were working on a work project that would probably look a lot better if you actually knew what a tornado looked like in person, rather than just having researched them.

Kate had been apprehensive about the whole thing. She was dealing with a lot of unresolved trauma, she didn’t want to drag you into something like that. Plus, she knew that it could be a lot seeing a tornado for the first time, and she also knew that you really weren’t well versed in how to survive one. Sure, you’d researched them and you were interested in them, but no amount of research could give you that real world experience that someone who had experienced one had. She didn’t want you to be in danger. You, however, argued that you needing that real world experience was exactly why your work project was going to fail if you didn’t go with her.

Ultimately, your argument that you’d just find another way to experience one even if she wasn’t there was what made her decide that she would ask her friend Javi if it was okay. Now, you knew of Javi. You’d never met him, and you knew Kate wasn’t speaking to him because of what all of them had been through. Still, she’d shown you minimal pictures and videos of him, and you’d always found him attractive even though you kept that fact to yourself.

When he agreed, you both took the week to go to Oklahoma, and it was supposed to be just that: One week.

Technically, it was.

But, in another sense, it was the beginning of a lot more than one week once you realized that you were absolutely miserable back home.

There were a lot of factors in your decision to move to Oklahoma, and it wasn’t as though you just left everything behind and did it on a whim.

The first factor was just how much easier it felt to exist there, without the constant hustle and bustle. You didn’t feel like you were in as much of a continuous competition when you were there, especially since you had made quick friends with the people who you were surrounded by. It was nice to not feel like there was always someone there, waiting to one-up you and take away the promotion or praise that you were looking for. But, you also found that you weren’t just looking for praise. You were having genuine fun, and that was something that you hadn’t really had in a long time.

The second factor, and the most important one really, was Javi. As much as you wanted to discuss the non-male reasons why you wanted to change your entire life around - such as the fact that Kate didn’t want to go back to New York, and the fact that she was seemingly starting something new that you would love to be a part of - it was difficult for you when you found being around him so easy.

He was more attractive in person than he was in pictures, and you were pretty sure that was because you could actually see his freckles which was nice. But he was also nice to you. When he teased you, it was just him referring to you being from the North, or him making some comment about how scared you were about the tornado, or him just kind of acting very familiar with you. Certainly, he was acting the way that he was because he wanted you to feel more comfortable with him, and you did feel comfortable with him. More comfortable with him than you probably should have.

There was no debating that you fell hard and fast, but you still had a commitment to go back home. So even though you got attached, even though you gave him the tightest hug of your life when you both survived that massive tornado, even though you almost kissed him at the airport, and even though you promised to call him when you landed safely - you still went back even though you didn’t want to.

By the end of the week, you’d FaceTimed him at least as much as you did Kate, and by the second week, you wanted nothing more than to see him in person again. Truly, nothing seemed to matter more to you than being able to see Javi again, even though you had absolutely no idea when you were going to be able to do that.

It would be about two months before you finally had it in you (and had it in your bank account) to take Kate’s offer and stay at her farmhouse (really, it was her mom’s offer, but Kate was more than willing) until you found a place to stay. And, even if you didn’t find a place to stay, Kate’s mom seemed certain that something was going to come up (as it would so happen, both of them seemed intent on discussing your friendship with Javi and how it really didn’t seem like much of a friendship at all since you were both clearly enamored with each other).

The plan was simple, you surprised Javi when you got back. Kate and her mom picked you up, helped you settle, and the next day you exacted the plan. You claimed that you needed to send something to Javi in the mail, so you asked for his address. Happily, he provided the address. The next day, to add to the convoluted plan, you took an Uber to his address because you didn’t want him to recognize a familiar car. Of course, there were a few flaws.

You didn’t know if he was home, you didn’t want to freak him out, and you had to be dropped off at the end of the street because you didn’t want to startle him. Startling him really wasn’t something that you should have been worried about, because he lived in an apartment building it would seem (a much nicer one than the one that you could afford back in New York, but that didn’t surprise you). But, you still didn’t know if he was home, and you still didn’t want to freak him out. So, you were as gentle as you could when you knocked on the door, and you had confirmation that he was home from the way that his - clearly tired - voice shouted that he was on the way.

When you saw Javi, you really realized that you should have considered coming later in the day. Whether it was because he was in his pajamas, because he had adorable bedhead, or because the first words out of his mouth happened to be ‘I thought you were DoorDash’ - you definitely should have remembered that Javi wasn’t a morning person.

Regardless, the moment he actually figured out that you were standing in front of him he pulled you inside, and you pulled him into a hug, and you spent the rest of the day… well, making out, mainly.

Five months later, you’re both spending most of your time doing research. Storm season had calmed down, so you had some time in between to assess what it was that you were all going to be doing when it started up again. Since Javi was no longer working with Storm Par, and yourself, him, and Kate had begun working hand-in-hand with The Wranglers, things were going to be a bit different. The three of you were going to be added to a pre-existing team, you were going to be on camera, and Kate was going to be running her experiments to figure out if what she had done that day in El Reno had actually worked, or if it was the combination of the fire and the distance and every little other thing that had made that event so unique.

But when you’re not doing that, you’re mainly with Javi. You don’t live with him, you’re still living with Kate and her mom, but you’re with Javi more than you’re with anyone else. You spend most nights at his house, or he comes over for dinner with Kate and her mom, or you both go out somewhere. There are rare instances in which you’re not with Javi, and despite the constant stream of time that you spend together, you just can’t get enough of each other. It’s almost suffocating when you’re not with Javi, and he seems to feel the same way.

At least, you were pretty sure he did judging by the amount of texts that he had sent to you while you were on the way to his apartment this afternoon.

The moment your shoes were set into the shoe rack, he was locking the door and pressing his lips against yours. Your fingers found his hair, kissing him just as intently. You loved the feeling of his lips against yours, especially since it had been probably almost twenty-four entire hours since you had last kissed him. He tugged you closer by the hips, your hand that wasn’t in his hair moving to rest on his warm cheek.

Pulling away, your eyes were locked on his, moving down to look at those freckles that always made your stomach feel like it was in knots. The thing was, you just thought they were cute at first, but then you started wondering if his genes would really shine through and give a baby matching freckles, and then all you could really think about what how you would absolutely forget everything about working and settle down in the countryside with him and some freckled children. But… why were you thinking about that?

“I missed you.” You complained, a smile tugging at his lips as he pressed another chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“I missed you too, I told you to spend the night.” He had told you to spend the night, but you simply didn’t have that option because yesterday was your laundry day and at least half of your laundry was at the place that you were actually, technically, living and not with Javi. Plus, you hated his dryer.

“Get a new dryer, and I won’t have to burden myself with leaving you.”

He hummed in response, moving away from you so he could move over to the couch - after all, he did invite you over to watch a movie. But, Javi took note of the way that you kept an arm securely around him, your head resting on his shoulder. You were always affectionate with each other, but tonight you just couldn’t shake the feeling that you wanted nothing other than Javi.

“You okay, baby?” He didn’t seem to really mind, though. His hand moved down to capture yours, sitting down with you and instantly opening his stance so you could cuddle up to him before he put a blanket over you.

“I’m good.” You replied, though the fact that you were halfway to sitting on him with your face resting just beside his was probably indication that you were not, in fact, good.

“You know, you’re free to stay here as long as you like.”

“I know that.”

“And you also know that I never get tired of you, right?” He replied, tilting your chin up so you were looking him in the eyes.

“Pretty sure that’s why everyone gets so annoyed with us.” Everyone did get rather annoyed with you both once in a while since you could get a little bit overly affectionate, but you had been working on toning that down. “But I know that, and you know I never get tired of you, either.”

Javi’s lips brushed against yours, his movements much more gentle than they had been earlier in the day. Something about the way that he kissed you, the way that he took his time to show you with his actions just how much he cared about you, made you feel like you were almost in a daze when he broke it. Javi didn’t go far, though, his forehead resting against yours as he looked at you.

“You should move in with me,” He started, watching your eyes widen slightly and rubbing his thumb along your jawline. “You spend most of your time here, we both hate being apart. You should just be here.”

“I’ve gotta tell you, Kate and her mom have been holding bets about how long it’s going to take for me to move in with you since I mentioned wanting to come to Oklahoma.” You replied, a smile covering your lips as you looked into his eyes. There was a softness in them, a love that you were certain that you could never get from anyone else. But you didn’t want it from anyone else, you only wanted Javi. “I’d love to move in with you.”

“Which one of them won?”

“I think Kate’s mom had under six months as her bet.”

Javi’s smile widened before he kissed you again, and somehow, you tried to press closer to him even though you were certain that it wasn’t possible to get any closer to him than you already were. But there was still that feeling in your gut that you just… you weren’t sure. You wanted him closer, you wanted him to never not be close, and you weren’t sure how you had become to attached to another person but you were certain that it was an attachment that was reciprocated by the man who was pressing his hand on the small of your back to keep your body pressed firmly against his.

“I love you so much, Javi.” You finally mumbled as you pulled away, his lips chasing yours for just a moment before he accepted the distance.

“I love you too, baby, so, so much.”

Javi brought you back into a kiss, following your lead as you moved to lay against the couch. He moved his arms so he was caging you in underneath him, his lips not parting from yours for a second as he kept you close to him. Technically, you were supposed to be here to watch a movie with him. But, for some reason that didn’t seem to be something that either of you were really planning on doing right now.

“Did you just come over to make out with me?” He teased, his hand pressed against your cheek as you looked up at him. A smile was still spread across his lips, and you were certain that your face matched his expression.

“Maybe a little.” You replied, trailing a hand over his arm. You didn’t just come over to make out with him, you came over to spend time with him. You always wanted to spend time with him, though. “We could be doing more than making out, you know.”

“At least let me cook you dinner first.”

“Javi, that could take hours.”

“So?”

He gave in when you started pouting at him, his lips pressed against yours again as his hand slipped under your shirt for just a moment. The feeling of his hand against you caused you to arch against him, but he quickly pulled away from you and stood up. His outstretched hand told you that he was going to bring you to the bedroom, a place that you were more than happy to accompany him to.

The thing was, you were both always very touchy with each other. The moment that you spent more than a few hours apart, you typically had to make up for it in some way. That way typically ended up being sex, if you were being honest, but it was still just some way for you to make up for the lost time. But, you’d both been a bit more reckless with sex as of recent. When you started sleeping with each other, which funnily enough somehow wasn’t even immediately, you were incredibly careful. There was always protection, even though you were taking a pill at the time. Recently, you’d both just kind of… forgotten… a lot of things. Javi was the one that drove you to the pharmacy to get your pills, but neither of you had really been reminding the other that you should probably been doing that. The last couple of times that you’d had sex, he had pulled out, but he certainly hadn’t used a condom.

Truthfully, you were probably both pretty conscious about what you were doing. You were just not willing to actually speak about what you were doing which was for sure not the correct way to be handling things. But, how could you talk about it? Neither of you planned on quitting your dangerous careers, and even though you were more used to office work and you honestly would be fine with doing something less strenuous for a little while since you were certain that the team needed some more behind the scenes people since you currently, truthfully, didn’t really have many - you also new that Javi was going to be at risk. Ever since what happened to him and Kate, the idea of not being in the action has been an issue for him. Were either of you comfortable with having a child under that pressure? Especially since you’d only been together for like… five months? Maybe. You weren’t sure. But talking about it would be a good thing, probably.

His hands against you distracted you from your disastrous train of thought, allowing him to pull the shirt that you were wearing up and over your head.

It struck you, as you looked at him, that you really didn’t want anyone other than him. You’d been on numerous failed dates, gotten to know people who ended up being into you and even tried to see if that was something that you were interested in. You were never interested in anyone more than you were interested in him, and you had certainly never remained so invested in someone for as long as you did with him.

“What’s that look on your face?” His tone was soft, his hand delicately running along your arm.

“I just really love you, I’ve never really felt this way about anyone else.”

His eyes were just as soft as his tone was, watching you as he pressed a kiss to your lips. It wasn’t rushed and sloppy like the ones that you’d been having with him. He took his time, and happily accepted you wrapping an arm around his neck to pull him closer.

“I’ve never felt this way about anyone else, either.” His admission was incredibly quiet, but you’d heard it since his forehead was pressed against yours. Some part of you wanted to have a deeper conversation about that, and you were certain that you would as soon as you left this room, but for the time being, you really just wanted to have him as close as possible. You had all the time in the world for talking, but right now you just kind of wanted to show him just how much you loved him.

Your fingers played with the hem of his shirt, and Javi got the message and removed it. You’d always loved running your fingers along his skin, feeling him below your finger tips. One of the things that struck you about Javi was that he looked so cute, but he really did keep up his physique. You sure that had something to do with the line of work, considering the fact that he needed to be pretty in shape to be constantly outrunning tornadoes and since he had been in the military before that.

Javi didn’t waste much time in getting you on the bed, though you did stop him so you could quickly remove your pants - it was always easier than taking them off while you were in bed with him. He didn’t object to that, and decided that he would take things a step further and remove the bra that you were wearing as well. Before you could reach for his pants, he had his lips against your neck and you at the head on the bed.

Typically, Javi took a lot more time than he was taking right now, but he wasted very little time in removing he panties that were on your hips. His lips trailed down your body, your eyes locked on him as he moved to part your legs. There was a nagging feeling in the back of your head that you just wanted him inside of you, that you didn’t want him to spend any more time not being inside of you, but that nagging feeling was pretty effectively silenced by the feeling of his tongue against your clit.

Javi always seemed to enjoy the feeling of your hands in his hair, and he always really did take his time - he liked to tease you, to warm you up before doing anything with you, mainly he just liked to make you needy; he really seemed to enjoy it when you begged for him. But right now, it was something entirely different. Maybe it was because you had agreed to move in with him, or maybe it was because you both knew that you were going to have a long conversation about things later, but all you knew was that he was being a lot quicker than he typically would be in a situation like this.

That’s not to say that you were complaining, because you were thoroughly enjoying the way that he had two fingers pressed inside of you, his lips wrapped around your clit and his eyes periodically glancing up at you just to make sure that you were definitely enjoying yourself. He was a giving lover, you knew that from the moment that you started doing this with him. But, right now it just seemed like his sole motivation in life was making sure that you felt pleasure. Mainly, though, you were pretty sure it was showing you how much he cared about you.

His fingers curled a bit inside of you, pressing against spot that made eyes fingers tighten in his soft hair. He knew how to bring you to the brink just as quickly as he brought you into his room. But right now, all you could really think about was how good he was making you feel, how good he always made you feel. How it felt when he made a slight noise against you, the reverberations sending shockwaves through - a reminder of who it was, and a reminder of just what kind of noises that you were going to hear coming out of him in just a few moments.

Ultimately, it didn’t take you very for your cunt to squeeze his fingers, for your orgasm to wash over you like it always did when you were with Javi. You always felt on top of the world, partly because you were convinced that he was the most beautiful man who you had ever seen. But, also because he really did have a way of playing your body like he was a genuine professional at pleasing you specifically.

As you came down from your high, Javi slowly crawled up the bed to you. At some point, a point in which you must have not been paying very much attention, Javi had removed the rest of the clothing that kept you from seeing him fully. He let your hands trace his warm skin, his face level with yours and his curly hair hanging slightly in front of his face. His was a sight to behold, and sometimes you weren’t so sure how you got so lucky to be with him in the first place. You really couldn’t get enough of Javi, and you were certain that he knew that.

“Do you want me to use a condom?” His voice was gentle, he did try to ask for your permission each time he chose not to. Typically, the only times you didn’t talk about it were when you were both desperate and in a time-crunch.

“I want you to cum inside of me.” You replied, not really thinking about what you were saying until it had come out of your mouth.

Javi’s eyes widened slightly, but a smile covered his lips as he looked down at you. “Oh, I can do that.”

Javi pushed into you rather quickly, moving his head down so he could bring you into a bruising kiss. Your body arched into his, the warmth of his chest pressed against yours made you sigh. You loved having this close, you wanted to have him this close forever. You loved the way that he felt inside of you, the way that he fucked into you like he’d never have the opportunity to do so again, even though you were both well-aware that you were going to do this over and over again for as long as you possibly could. It wasn’t like you had a shortage of sex in your relationship, but it also certainly wasn’t the only thing that you had in your relationship.

Javi followed your lead as you softened the kiss, our fingers tangling in the back of his hair to keep him close. You couldn’t help but think about how much you loved him, how much more you loved him than you’d ever loved anyone else. It was honestly slightly concerning just how much you loved him, because you weren’t sure if it was even possible before him. But you knew that he felt the same way, and a large part of you knew that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him.

“Javi?”

“Mhm?”

“You should keep doing it inside of me.”

His breath stuttered for a second, but his hips didn’t. You could feel his hand squeezing your hip, the way that he seemingly started pounding into you harder than he was before. There was a slight overwhelming quality to it, but it was overwhelming in the best way possible. He felt so good, and he always hit that spot inside of you over and over again as though your bodies were made to be together.

“I-If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you want something from me.”

“Yeah, your cum.”

“Mhm. Something more, though. Something… around here?” He trailed a hand to your stomach, the feeling of your cunt squeezing around him making him let out a particularly vulgar moan following by a grin on his lips. “You want me to knock you up, hm? Is that what you want?”

“Please-” Your request came out as more of a whine, your eyes locked on his for just a moment but trailing down his face. A baby with his freckles was all you could really think about, a life with him. Some part of it was about possessiveness, you wanted him to mark his territory, and you wanted to mark yours. To be with him, and he clearly wanted the same thing from how his forehead fell against yours as he brought his hand down from your stomach to trace circles around your clit.

“Fuck, I’ll give you anything you want.” He always got a bit more vulgar with his language as he got closer, but he was always honest - Javi hadn’t done anything dishonest in the entire time that you’d known him once he stopped working with Storm Par. “Gonna put a ring on that fucking finger, you know that?”

That was what sent you over the edge, your brain turning into mush as you reached your peak. Javi wasn’t close behind, his hips stuttering as the feeling of his orgasm filling you made you let out a series of unintelligible words. You’d never felt fuller, but you’d also never felt better. The idea of being with him forever was definitely more than an idea, at this point, it just felt like a promise. But you wanted that with him, you wanted it with him more than anything you’d ever wanted before.

When you had both come down from your high’s, Javi took the time to push his come back inside of you with his fingers, a whine leaving your throat upon feeling the slight overstimulation.

It didn’t take you both very long to clean up and get back into the couch, the couch where you had started to begin with. But now, he just had you wrapped up with him in a blanket. The sound from the television was definitely hitting your ears, but it was going in one and out the other. All you could really think about was Javi, about what had just transpired - mainly, about how you didn’t regret any of it.

“Do you really want to get pregnant?”

“Do you really want to put a ring on my finger?”

“That wasn’t how I meant to ask you.” He replied, his voice soft. He almost seemed embarrassed that it had come out that way. “If it’s alright with you, I want to wait to ask you for a little bit, just because I had a plan that… you deserve. You deserve a real engagement story. To, you know, tell our kids. Can’t really tell them that I proposed during sex.”

Just the idea of sitting around telling that kind of story with children, your children, made your heart feel a bit warm. “You know, I wasn’t even sure if I wanted that kind of life before I met you.” Your head was tilted up to fact him, the movie forgotten. “But I do, even if I have to take a break from the field.”

“And won’t you be worried about me?” These were all things that you needed to talk about, things that you probably should have talked about before you just decided to go ahead an do it.

“I’m going to be worried about you anyway, Javi.” You replied, moving up so your head was resting in between his shoulder and his jaw. He simply held you tightly, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. “But, yes, I was serious. I think a kid with your freckles would be just about the cutest thing.”

You could tell that made him a little sheepish from the way that his skin heated up, and it definitely worsened it when you moved to press a kiss to his cheek. But, he was only sheepish from the compliment, not from the nature of what you were saying to him.

“I don’t know about that, but I do know that I’d love to see a mini-you running around.” He replied, resting his chin on your head as he turned back to watch the movie.

There were some logistical things to work out. Things regarding work, things regarding maybe getting married before having a baby just so it didn’t look like you were having a shotgun wedding. You knew that you were going to have to probably move into a house together at some point, rather than an apartment with only one bedroom. Those issues were going to become more pressing as time carried on, but for the time being, you both knew that what you wanted was either other - that all you truly wanted was each other and a life together. That was all you truly wanted - or needed - to worry about for the time being.

#twisters x reader #twisters fanfiction #anthony ramos x reader #javi rivera x reader #javi x reader

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hellsburners · 1 year

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best mistake

summary: you're new york's hero: spider-man. your roommate peter is the brains behind it all and the love of your life and he doesn't even know it. pairing: tasm!peter parker x male reader word count: 1.6k warnings: unprotected s3x, blowjobs, casual hooking up. a/n: i'm back? (based on this amazing prompt)

masterlist | more peter parker

Peter hears a loud thud from his window. It was dark outside, the clock on his desk reading past midnight, the city more quiet.

He peers on the glass, a dark figure resting its head on the pane. He gently lifts the window, your body slumping on his arms, your face bruised and bloody. He carries you to the bed, your suit all tattered and dirtied. Peter runs to the bathroom to get a basin of warm water and a towel.

He takes his time to wipe the blood from your face, gently wiping it on your soft skin, and brushing your hair away from your face. His eyes wander to your face, a familiar one, a face he’s seen ever since he was a kid, but now much older.

He takes the medical kit under his bed, gently moving you so he can remove your ruined suit. His calloused skater hands brush your chest with the damp cloth, scrubbing away the dried blood crusting your wounds. He applied a salve on some of the cuts to prevent infection, the bigger gashes he stitched.

The two of you have been doing this for eight years now. You, the web-slinger, protector of the city, while Peter, the brains behind your crusade. He came up with the idea of making the web-shooters, his bio-engineer degree with your experience as a research scientist in aerophysics helped hand-in-hand in keeping the city safe.

You turned in your sleep, groaning from the pain. “Hey, easy up tiger your wounds are still fresh,” he said, helping you prop yourself up on his bed.

“How long have I passed out?” you said, noticing your suit was pulled down to your waist.

“Just a couple of minutes,” he said. “Saw you on the TV.”

“Yeah, that Electro guy short-circuited my web-shooters,”

“About that, I sketched up a new prototype that could be resistant to his attacks,” he said, gesturing at his messy table with his new creation. “I also made some tweaks on the web fluid, I increased the tensile strength so they can withstand greater velocities.”

Peter’s eyes glimmered as he talked about the new shooters. Your mouth lifted into a smile as he continued to ramble. “What do you think?” he said, “Did you even listen?”

“Yeah—increased tensile strength blah blah,” you uttered. “How’s the job hunt by the way?”

“Terrible. I did sell some pictures to the bugle,” he said. “Jameson gave me $350.”

“$350? That’s not even enough for groceries and the electricity bill.”

“Well it’s better than nothing,” he said, taking his glasses off. “I saw Gwen earlier.”

Oh. Peter’s high school ex. You diverted your gaze away from his, finding the city lights outside the window was a distraction. You felt your chest tighten, your heartbeat much louder.

For the fifteen years you’ve known Peter Parker, you’ve also fallen in love with him. The two of you have shared some casual encounters here and there but you knew it was never serious. So the idea of him meeting his greatest love made you uncomfortable.

Peter noticed the way your attention left his, your eyes hooded as you stared far away. He noticed your hand clutch on the sheets, your jaw clenched. “She got engaged recently,” your muscles relaxing. Oh, you said. “Yeah, to some rich socialite from the Upper East Side.”

“Good for her,” you whispered.

“Have you thought about something like that?”

“Marrying a rich man?” you chuckled.

“No, just marrying,” he uttered, the corner of his lips lifting north. His fingers trace your skin, drawing circles. You let him.

“Not at all. I guess I’m gonna be broke my whole life,” you try to get up, your back betraying you. You stagger for a bit, your hand finding Peter’s shoulder for stabilization. He stands as well, his large hands around your bare waist.

Your breaths were close—too close. You could feel his heat, his warm musky scent, his brown eyes set on yours. He bends his spine so he can reach your face closer, his pink lips hovering off yours.

You pull back, clearing your throat in the process. “I’m gonna go get a drink.”

“Yeah, sure,” he coughs.

You walk to the kitchen, holding onto your wounded torso. Peter’s eyes dropped to your underwear-clad ass, his cheeks blushed from the shame. Stop ogling your best friend Peter.

You find the fridge bare of any beverage, you turn your head back to see Peter staring at your ass, his face absent of any expression.

“Stop staring at my ass!” you shouted, throwing a kitchen cloth at him. “Plus, where’s all the beer.”

“I was not!” he shouted back. “And I think I drank all of it.”

You let out a sigh. You found a can of Coke on the bottom shelf of the fridge. You jumped to sit on the kitchen counter, your legs dangling off the linoleum countertop. The liquid sizzles as you chug it, the brown syrupy consistency dripping from the side of your mouth to your bare chest.

Fuck it. Peter walks to the kitchen, joining you. “If you want to seduce me you could just say it.”

“Seduce you?” you laughed. “And why would I do that?”

Your legs wrap around his waist. He takes the can from your hand, drinking the rest of it before placing it on the counter. “Because you’re like that, always making sure I can see that ass around,” he whispers to your neck.

Your head falls back from his kisses, your hands spread behind you for stability. He pulls your underwear off, your erection pointing north. He licks a strip underneath, you shudder from the sudden sensation.

He wrapped his long fingers around it, stroking it with his saliva, the only thing you could let out was a moan. He lifted you up the counter so your legs were mounted on his shoulders. He takes his digits inside his mouth, lubing it before pressing it into your hole.

“Fuck,” you moaned.

“Feel good, huh?” he said. His fingers curl up inside you, teasing your sensitive spot. Your body winces from the sensation, your legs automatically closing on his head. He strokes your erection again, simultaneously stimulating your prostate. The combined sensation made your legs weak, and your arms almost collapsing. “To be honest, you’re the only one I do this to, Spidey.”

“Liar,” you let out a groan. “I know you kicked yourself over and over for not bagging Gwen.”

His grip on your cock tightened, his fingers went deeper. “Aw, are you jealous of her?”

“You lost your virginity to me asshole,” you whimper. “I get to ride that dick, not her.”

“Ride?” he chuckles. He pulls back, his hands wet with spit. “Go at it then. Ride me.”

The two of you were in his bed now. Peter sitting on the bed as you sucked him off. His hand found your head, running it through your hair. “Fuck baby,” he moans.

Your head bobs on his tip, your tongue licking around his head as you take him in. Your free hand was stroking his length, it was long enough that it was actually difficult to take him all in your throat.

“Fuck the blowjob, just ride me please,” he whimpers.

“I was preparing it you dick,” you said. “I can’t fit all that without some lube.”

You straddle his legs, aligning his tip against your hole. Your hands find his broad shoulders for support. The two of you moan from the contact. You hole slowly taking his length in. Peter shuddered from the warmth enveloping his erection. He cursed, he could cum from this alone.

You looked beautiful, Peter thought. Your hips moving against his sex, your eyes lidded, and your mouth agape, the sweetest moans leaving your lips. It was a sight he could look at forever. He takes your faces to his lips pressing them together. You let out soft whimpers, Peter blushes from the sounds.

“It’s too fucking big,” you groan.

“You can take it, baby, please, do it for me,” Peter moans.

He was a mess, you thought. All sweaty and red. He didn’t have the enhanced stamina you had. Your hands fall on his toned abdomen, your fingers finding the ridges underneath his shirt. You moved your hips up and down his length, your brows furrowing from the amount of pressure on your behind.

Peter stroked your erection as you continued riding him. His mouth was agape as your eyes locked on each other. You pulled him to you, your arms around his head as you quickened your pace. Your hips gyrated on his cock with such swiftness Peter’s cock felt like it was being bombarded with so much stimuli he could combust into flames.

“Shit, I’m close–”

“Me too, Peter,” you moan. “Cum in me.”

“You sure?” he said. You nod against the whimpers.

Peter rocks his hips against your ass, gripping onto the mounds of flesh. Your body draws out the pleasure from him as you move your hips. He could let out curses, pleading for release. From the same beat of your movement, the two of you let out your climax, your own release covering his torso as he filled you.

You lay in bed catching your breath. “This was probably bad for your stitches,” he said, his brown hair drenched.

“Yeah, I think I tore it again,” you breathed heavily.

It was probably a mistake. For you to continue this charade with Peter. To exchange bodily pleasure knowing your heart beat only for him, but it was a mistake you were ready to commit over and over again.

interactions are greatly appreciated btw if u liked this fic and want more send me a prompt and i'd gladly make something from it :>

#peter parker smut #peter parker x reader smut #peter parker x male reader smut #the amazing spiderman #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker x male reader #tasm!peter parker x male reader smut

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astrogurudeva803 · 2 years

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Consult Astro Guru Deva Ji and Get your love back in North York, he is a most reputed and well-known astrologer in Canada, who helps you to get love back, in a perfect manner. Astrology is one of the best ways to get your love back and solve love troubles. Get in touch with Astro Guru Deva Ji and get the most effective astrology solution for your love life. For more visit the website.

#get your love back in north york

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im-sleepdeprived · 3 months

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Seasonal • Pt. 3

pairing: peter parker x reader

summary: inspired by the taylor swift song ‘peter’ where you and peter discover just how hard it is to hold on to something from your past, no mater how much you love each other

a/n: SHITS STARTING TO GET REALLLL (you’ll see) next part is gonna go soooooo hard omg, i already have the beginning of it written (pls don’t hate me after this btw☹️)

warnings: angst, lying, things have to get worse before they can get better, alcohol n stuff

masterlist, read part 1, part 2

Summer break rolled around faster than you could blink and before you knew it, your first year at college was over. Though it was a bit of a long adjustment period, and you were certainly going through some things in your life, it was amazing. You couldn’t wait to come back in the fall as a sophomore. This time, your place on the paper was secure, you’d probably get a good topic for the first edition when you get back (or better than last year's at least), and you actually had friends now.

You and Alyssa had agreed to rent out an apartment for the next school year and you were excited to be living with one of your closest friends. You’d picked out the place together, it was near campus, small, cheap, and perfect for just the two of you. You’d be moving in a week before school started back up.

You were going to be spending the summer back home with your parents, a lot of your friends from Columbia were staying in the city so you’d be able to hang out all through break. You’d checked and (subtly) made sure with Ned that Peter wasn’t planning on coming home during break.

On a phone call a few days after your last day, you and Ned were congratulating each other on getting through the year and he had mentioned something about Peter receiving some award from some science club. You asked him if he was going to be seeing him over the break to which he’d replied with ‘Peter’s stuck down in North Carolina but I was thinking about catching a flight and spending a few weeks with him.’

You hadn’t talked to Peter lately, since last winter actually. You had stopped reaching out first, deciding that if he wanted to talk to you, he would. Apparently, he didn’t want to.

You hadn’t received any texts from him since that night you’d caught him walking the streets with May after he’d told you he couldn’t make it back to New York. It was obvious he’d lied but…you just weren’t sure why.

After all, he’d been the one to reach out that time. He’d been the one to initiate everything, so why would he lie about it? You didn’t know but you were willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. Because…this was Peter. He literally saved lives in his spare time. It was hard for you to wrap your head around the fact that he would go out of his way just to hurt you.

After wishing Ned a great break you’d called your Mom and confirmed your summer plans with them. She was more than happy and told you you could just pop in unannounced and she wouldn’t mind one bit.

Now you were looking at all your boxes shoved in your childhood room. You’d moved all of your things out of your dorm but you and Alyssa weren’t moving into your apartment until the end of summer so until then, you were stuck here. In this room that felt a little too nostalgic for your liking, feeling like you’d lived a thousand lifetimes since last year.

Something sparkled in your peripheral vision, making you turn your head and— oh. The gift you’d bought for Peter sat perfectly wrapped, much to your dismay, in one of your boxes. The minimal light that filtered through your window had managed to hit it just right, where it was stuck between a few other of your belongings and you wondered what kind of sick sign that was.

Sighing, you made your way over to the box, fished it out, and shoved it into the back of your closet. The little tag where you’d written his name with a small heart beside it stuck out and you pushed it right back in.

Maybe you should just get rid of it. No, you should just get rid of it. It wasn’t as if you were still planning on giving it to him or seeing him at all. And yet…you held on.

“May’s coming over for dinner! Is that…okay?”

Something you were hoping to work on this break was spending time with your old friends. You remembered thinking last year that you’d fight to keep your friendships intact and you hadn’t done the best job with that lately.

May was one of those friends. And since you didn’t have Peter pushing the two of you together like he once did, and you didn’t have the advantage of living across the hall from each other, it’d been a while.

You wished you could say it was just the way things were. That life had gotten in the way and it wasn’t on purpose but…it kinda was.

You weren’t exactly avoiding her but you also weren’t going out of your way to see her again because you knew it would’ve been easy to just pop in on a random afternoon and say hi. Or have dinner together with your parents.

After the breakup, losing Peter hurt, but you’d expected that. What you hadn’t expected was losing May. It was an easy thing to overlook but it hit you like a ton of bricks. The two of you had become really close during your time with Peter, hell she was half the reason you were so excited to see them during winter break, and you were sure your relationship extended beyond him but…you were scared. You were scared of being wrong.

“Of course it’s okay,” you said to your Mom, who stood nervously at your door. You tried to keep your voice light, careful not to let it betray you and indicate the immediate nervousness you felt at her words.

“Are you sure sweetie? I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Mom,” you rolled your eyes, “it’s May. We’ve known her for forever, your best friends. I’m fine. I actually…I really miss her.”

She smiled at you, “She misses you too honey, she’ll be so glad to see you.” You shot her a smile and she returned it with a pair of thumbs up before scurrying off.

You tried not to stress yourself out too much, because it was exactly as you’d told your mom, this was May. She’d known you long before you and Peter were a thing, and you hoped now that you weren’t a thing things could still be okay between the two of you.

It wasn’t long before you heard a knock on your door. “Sweetie, could you get that? Your Dad’s out and I’ve got my hands full,” your Mom yelled from the kitchen.

Your heart fell a little and you mentally scolded yourself for feeling that way. You made your way to the door and opened it with sweaty palms. May stood before you, holding a bottle of wine, and sporting one of those beautiful, mood-changing smiles of hers.

“Y/N!” She barely got out before she was pulling you into one of those warm hugs you’d missed so much. No one could give a hug quite like May Parker.

You felt relief flush through your system, and suddenly, all your worrying from before seemed so silly. Of course she wouldn’t hate you.

You held her tighter, “Hi May.”

“Oh my goodness,” she pulled away and smiled at you, “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

“I know right? It’s just been a lot, with college and…stuff.” She gave you a bittersweet smile. “I get it.” You both knew what she meant and her voice was so genuine you could’ve burst into tears right then.

“Here let me take this,” you grabbed the bottle of wine from her, “come in, take a seat, I’ll pour you a cup.”

You ran into the kitchen, “May’s here,” you informed your mom as you grabbed a wine glass and moved to open the bottle.

“Oh great, did she bring that,” she pointed towards the bottle in your hands. When you nodded she grabbed it from you along with the cup, “Don’t worry about it sweetie, I’ll open this, I need you to take those though.”

She nodded towards a tray of cheese and crackers which you grabbed and made your way back to the living room. Your mom followed with the wine, which she set on the table so she could pull May into a big hug. “I know you live right across the hall but I feel like I barely even see you!”

After they exchanged pleasantries, they started chatting as they ate the appetizers and drank their wine. A few questions were thrown at you, about school, summer plans, and other things. You answered as best you could, but there was something still plaguing your mind.

“I’ll go get dinner on the table, Y/N will keep you company.” Your mom said as she stood up and made her way back to the kitchen.

You had barely registered what she'd said, too busy looking around the living room and recalling the last time May was here. Or at least, here at the same time as you. It was your high school graduation, you and Peter had been shoved into a corner while she and your parents fawned over the both of you. It was hard to believe that was the same day everything changed.

As if reading your mind, she started talking, “I know things are different now.” She got up from her chair, sat beside you on the sofa, and grabbed your hand, “But they don’t have to be. Not for us.”

You squeezed her hand and smiled at her, “Good because I don’t want things to be different between us.”

“Me neither,” she grinned and pulled you into another hug, which you gladly accepted.

“Y’know,” you mumbled into her hair, “I was kinda scared you hated me now.”

She laughed as if you’d just told the world’s funniest joke. Pulling away, she smirked at you and said, “For someone smart enough to get into Columbia, you're kinda stupid.”

You laughed loudly, “Okay, fair.”

Suddenly, your mom called out, stating that dinner was all set up and ready. “Come on,” May stood up and held her hand out for you, “we can talk more about this later, I’m starving.”

Grinning, you accepted her hand and stood up, “Good, because we made your favorite.”

She gasped, hands flying to her mouth, “The tacos?! With the sauce?”

Laughing, you nodded, “Yup, just for you.”

“Oh my god,” she squeezed your arm, “If I did hate you, which I absolutely don’t, this would be your redemption moment!”

“Come on,” you dragged her to the table. Dinner went well, it was amazing to spend time with May again and your heart ached when you realized how long you’d spent away from her. You’d have to fix that, maybe she’d be open to going out for brunch together on weekends.

Some time into the conversation, Peter was brought up. May had said something or other about one of his classes and your mom asked how he was doing down at Duke. As soon as the question had left her mouth, both pairs of eyes were bearing down on you.

You smiled softly and rolled your eyes, “You guys, don’t make it weird, because it isn’t.”

They didn’t say anything which made you hold up your hands, “Do you want me to leave? Cause I’m fine with talking about him, but if you aren’t-”

“No, of course not!” May rushed out.

“We just don’t want to make it weird!” Your mom tried.

“But it isn’t! Weird, like you said. It isn’t weird.” May stumbled, and it made your heart clench when you realized how similar it was to Peter when he was doing that nervous rambling thing of his you used to love so much. Maybe it was weird. But you didn’t want it to be.

“It isn’t,” you smiled again. If you wanted a relationship with May, of course, there’d be talk about Peter. The sooner you get over it, the better.

“Okay…good.” Everyone was quiet for a moment, so you decided to speak up for both of them. “So May, how was Peter’s first year at Duke?”

“Good, good.” She nodded. “He started his break around the same time you did, but he’s in some science program? I’m not sure, he’s told me all about it but you know that boy, he talks like a scientist already, I barely understand anything. Sometimes it’s like a whole other language.” She and your mom laughed and you let out a small chuckle as well. “But anyway,” she continued, “he’s staying there until next semester starts. They do special research and stuff over the summer,” she waved her hand dismissively, “Or something like that, but you get the idea. And he loves it.” She smiled proudly.

You were happy for him, you really were. Sometimes it was the only thing that gave you peace about him being so far away, the fact that you knew Duke was perfect for him. It had everything he could ever want, the perfect environment for him to thrive in, and from what you’d heard from Ned (and now May) that was exactly what he was doing.

But no matter how much you knew you should be proud and happy for him, and only proud and happy, you couldn’t help the twinge of bitterness that wormed its way around your ribs and squeezed tightly every time you heard just how great he was doing at his new place. So great, that he’d left for there early. So great, that he wasn’t even coming home for summer break now.

It wasn’t fair, not in the slightest bit, but no matter how much you tried to brush it off because you knew how ridiculous you would sound to anyone else, it was there every time he was brought up in a conversation.

That was another thing. everyone seemed to know everything about him at all times and it felt like a slap to the face every time someone brought up something that, if it were to have happened last year, you would’ve been the first to know.

You’d lied before, things were weird. They were weird and you hated it so much you were willing to ignore it so you didn’t have to acknowledge it. You were hoping the weirdness would just grow a pair of legs and walk away because you weren’t quite sure how to face it. Your lives were so intertwined that no matter how much you ignored it, ignored him, it was bound to be brought up again and you’d be stuck with that same gross, sticky, squeezing, feeling.

Your mother and May had switched topics, apparently, they hadn’t noticed you drifting off into your head and you were glad for it. Soon, dinner was over and you and May were doing the dishes and talking about your current TV shows, while your mom cleaned around and got dessert ready.

“I’ve been on a Modern Family kick lately,” she told you as you rinsed a plate and handed it to her to dry.

“Classic,” you stated, washing another pate, “the Thanksgiving episode is my favorite, you know, with the suitcase turkey and the backpack turkey.”

“Oh my god,” she laughed, “I love that one.”

“Actually, I really miss New Girl, I’ve been wanting to rewatch that one.”

“Remember when we used to quote Schmidt all the time?” She laughed and leaned against the countertop. “You and Peter would run around yelling ‘Youths!’?”

“Oh yeah,” you grinned, “and when I used to say ‘Are you the criminals? From the statistics?’ Every time he talked about catching someone on patrol.”

“Yes! I know he’d act annoyed, but he definitely found it hilarious.”

“Oh for sure,” you nodded.

May let out a sigh and turned her body completely towards you. “For what it’s worth, I think he’s a total dumbass.”

You shook your head as you said in a gentle voice, “Weren’t we just saying over dinner how smart that boy is?”

“That’s not what I meant,” she looked at you knowingly. “Peter is smart, but sometimes I wonder if that kid has a brain at all.” You huffed out a laugh but she grabbed both your soapy hands before she continued, “I mean it Y/N, I’ve never seen him care about anyone the way he cared for you. And he’s an idiot if he thinks a couple hundred miles are going to change things between you both.”

You refrained from saying he was the one who changed things while he was still across the hall from you. You knew she was only trying to help but you really thought this was making you feel worse about it. “It’s okay,” you said in as calm a voice as you could muster, “It was what he wanted, and from what I’ve heard he’s doing amazing over there, I’m happy for him.”

She looked as if she wanted to protest your little facade and you really hoped she wouldn’t push. You didn’t think you could get through this without tears. Suddenly, as soon as she opened her mouth, your phone started ringing. You looked over the counter to see it was Alyssa calling.

“I’m really sorry May but this is my friend I’m moving in with next semester, she probably wants to finalize some things,” you grabbed your phone and gave her an apologetic smile.

“No worries honey, go ahead.” She smiled at you and you thanked her before running to your room to answer.

Turned out Lyss just wanted to check in on you, claiming she missed you and you told her how unintentionally perfect her timing was. She laughed and said she was always happy to help. The two of you talked for a few minutes before she had to go again and when you stepped out to see May, she was getting ready to leave.

“So soon,” you asked with a frown.

May nodded and gave you a small smile. “Yeah, I‘ve got to be up early, we have an order coming in at the community center and I’m supposed to sign off on it.”

“Oh, well,” you cleared your throat, “it was really nice to see you May, like, really nice.”

“C’mere honey,” she held out her arms and pulled you into a hug.

“Thank you,” you murmured, though you weren’t quite sure what you were thanking her for. For not hating you, for being so understanding about avoiding her, for what she’d been saying earlier even if it had sorta broken your heart.

“You don’t need to thank me, but I would really like to see you more often,” she squeezed you more time before letting go.

“Definitely,” you agreed.

“We’ll set something up then,” she grinned and said one last goodbye before making her way across the hall.

You put on a cute outfit, feeling extra excited about today. You and MJ had finally made plans to get together. You reallyneeded this, you hadn’t spent proper time together in a criminally long time and you were hoping to make up for that.

She’d been away visiting her girlfriend’s family for the summer and now there were only a couple days before you were supposed to be moving in with Alyssa. You’d made her send you her travel itinerary so could out your day together, from start to finish.

The two of you were going to hit all your favorite spots. First, you were going to grab coffee at your favorite spot, after that you were going to hit some bookstores, some were your old favorites you used to visit together in high school and some were new ones you’d sent to each other in hopes of trying out together. Then you were planning on hitting The Met and finding the funniest pieces there.

“Hey,” you said as you picked up your phone when you heard it ring.

“Hey loser, I’m downstairs,” MJ’s voice rang through your speakers making you squeal with excitement.

“I’m on my way down! Just one second I need to find my shoes,” you shoved around your closet, frustration growing by the second at the minuscule task keeping you from seeing your friend.

“Calm down Y/N,” she laughed, “I’m not going anywhere.”

“You better not,” you grumbled. “It’s been way too long. Oh my GOD! I just had these dumb shoes—” you paused, “Wait never mind, I found them. I placed them by my door.”

MJ cackled on the other end, “Good, now put those bitches on, and get your ass down here Y/L/N, I miss my best friend.”

You felt giddy at her words, “Ok, ok I’ll be right there.”

“I’ll be waiting.” She hung up and you raced to shove on your shoes so you could get down there as quickly as possible. Once your shoes were on you were bounding out the door, down the stars, and out another door before you could pull her into the biggest hug.

“I missed you so much,” you mumbled against her shoulder.

“I missed you more,” she admitted.

“Come on,” you grinned at her, “we’ve got a long day ahead of us.”

“And I can’t say anything 'cause it’s just not my place, y’know?”

“No, I totally understand,” you nodded even though she couldn’t see you. MJ was currently on the other side of the shelf you were browsing and she was telling you about Laura’s family (you’d called them her in-laws and she’d threatened to punch you). Apparently, Laura had a little sister who MJ had found to be extremely obnoxious and arrogant.

You were currently on your third bookstore and the cup of iced coffee in your hand was now more of a cup of melted ice which was making your hand numb. You looked around and spotted a trash can in the corner of the store. As you were making your way over there, MJ continued her little rant, “Don’t even get me started on the way she talks to Laura, it’s just so fucking disrespectful. Honestly, I wanna smack some sense into the little brat.” She said the last part a little quieter but you still heard her.

Dumping your coffee into the trash bin, you walked over to the side of the shelf she was occupying, leaned against it, and frowned. “I’m sure she was a pain in the ass MJ, but really? That bad?”

She stared you down.

“Alright,” you held up both your hands, “that bad.” She merely nodded as she kept browsing. You both held bags in your hands filled with your previous finds, MJ’s slightly bigger than yours.

“Oh and I didn’t even tell you about the time that she—”

“Can I help you ladies with anything.” You jumped at the voice behind you. You turned around to see a kid about your age and judging by the name tag and the outfit, you were pretty sure he worked here.

“Um,” you snuck a peek at MJ who had gone stone-faced, not planning on acknowledging him at all, then turned back to the man before you. He looked to be about your age, with rusty blonde hair and light blue eyes. Despite addressing the both of you, he was looking at you expectantly.

“No, we’re fine thank you,” you gave him a close-lipped smile, to which he returned with a full grin. “Alright, well if you change your minds I’ll be right over there.”

You waved at him and he shot you a wink as he walked off. when you turned to continue your conversation MJ was smirking at you.

“What?” You asked her confused.

She just shook her head and smirked, “Nothing,” she grabbed your arm and tugged you beside her, “Come on, I’m just getting this,” she held up her book. “Did you like anything?”

You shook your head, “Eh, I have most of these.”

“Alright, well I’m gonna go check out, wait for me?”

“Of course,” you offered to hold her other bag while she went to pay for her new book and you stood to the side scrolling on your phone while you waited for her.

“Hey,” you looked up to see the guy from earlier.

“Hi,” you weren’t sure what he wanted, you weren’t even browsing anymore.

“I didn’t catch your name earlier.”

“Y/N, and you?” You asked politely as if you couldn’t read it on the right side of his chest.

“Isaac” he grinned and held out a hand for you to shake. You accepted and smiled, “Nice to meet you, Isaac.”

“It was really nice to meet you, Y/N. Hopefully, we can meet again,” he held out a slip of paper

“Oh,” you spoke dumbfounded. He shot you a wink and stalked away while you stared at the paper as if it could speak.

“Are you seeing something I’m not?” MJ asked. You hadn’t even realized she was done checking out, too busy staring at the little slip of paper in your hands.

“He gave you his number Y/N, stop acting so surprised.” She rolled her eyes but you just furrowed your brows.

“Come on,” she led you to the front of the store and held the door open for you as you walked out. “Aren’t you gonna ask me what I think?” She said once the two of you were on the sidewalk.

“Oh…yeah, of course.” You weren’t planning on bringing it up again at all, actually.

“I think you should call him.”

“Wait…what?” You stopped your walking, not bothering to hide the confusion in your tone or your expression.

“You heard me,” she stopped as well, staring you down. “Why wouldn’t you go out with him? He looks good enough, he’s clearly into you, and he works at a bookstore. All good things.”

You stared at her for a moment. Everything she was saying was valid but all you could think about was—

“Don’t think about him right now, you broke up over a year ago.”

Ouch.

“I’m not thinking about him,” you lied, “I’m sure he’s out living his own life.”

“He is,” she said seriously.

Wait, what?

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I was on the phone with him a couple of weeks ago and he was going crazy trying to decide what to wear. And there was a girl knocking on his door, telling him they were expected at some restaurant and they couldn’t be late.”

“Well…how do you know it was a date?” You tried to reason before you lost your mind.

She rolled her eyes, but then her expression softened, “He was getting dressed up Y/N, like, date dressed up. And I looked up the restaurant after I heard the name, definitely not a casual place. He’s dating again, probably has been for a while.”

No. Oh no.

Your head was spinning. There was no way this could be true. Right?!

MJ went on about how it wasn’t right you were waiting around while he was doing whatever he pleased and how she didn’t like to see you so mopey but you could barely comprehend what she was saying.

You felt all those gross feelings from all the other times Peter’s wonderful life at Duke was mentioned, wrapped around your ribs, your chest, and squeeze, except this time it didn’t fade.

The bitterness, the jealousy, the feeling of being pushed aside, all of them so big, so huge, you could barely keep track of your thoughts. But there was one particular thought sticking out, how you’d never imagined Peter Parker, your first love, the only boy you’d ever loved, would ever make you feel this way.

“I’m really sorry Y/N,” MJ said genuinely. “I just thought you deserved to know. I know you have this fantasy that the two of you might end up together again but…I don’t think he feels the same.”

“Don’t be sorry,” your mouth felt dry. “We broke up, he’s free to do whatever he pleases.”

“Maybe,” she sighed, “but he’s such a dick Y/N, please don’t let it bother you. He’s not worth it.”

That’s where you thought she was wrong, he was worth it. He was worth everything to you and the thought of him with someone else was making you feel sick. You couldn’t do this here, in the middle of the street, in front of MJ. As much as you loved her, you didn’t think she’d really understand. Plus, it was true, you had been waiting for your day together all summer, and you weren’t going to let this ruin it.

“Forget about him, I’m not gonna let him ruin our day. He’s not here, he doesn’t matter.” You could wait until you got home to freak out.

MJ seemed to love your response. She nodded, “He’s not here, he doesn’t matter.”

If only it were that easy.

You couldn’t seem to get your mind off of Peter all day. It was like the breakup all over again except, this time, it was worse. At least during the breakup, you’d held on to the fact that he did want to be with you, and he would if he could, it was your lives just taking different courses at the moment and you’d find each other afterward. But apparently not.

You’d done a good enough job at keeping up a cheery disposition for MJ, not wanting to ruin your day together just because the guy who’d broken up with you over a year ago was dating again. Even if you had felt your heart shatter at her words.

The two of you had gone to The Met and grabbed some dinner afterward before going your separate ways. By the time you were walking back to your apartment, the sun had already started its descent. You paused for a moment, lowering one of your newly purchased books you were skimming through as you stared at the ever-darkening sky. You wondered if there would ever come a time when you would see the stars and not think of him. Hell, you couldn’t even see the stars right now and you still thought of him.

Your mind wandered to when he’d taught you about seasonal constellations and you started to wonder if that’s what you were, you and Peter. Something temporary, a fleeting moment in time. Sure, he’d told you that the stars were always in the sky, and it was only a matter of light and location that determined whether or not they shone. But as you stared at the sky, you wondered how that was even possible. How it could look so clear, so empty, and yet, you knew they were there.

The stars might always be there, but you weren’t guaranteed you’d see them. Just like the way Peter’s effect on your life would always be present, there was no denying you wouldn’t be the person you are right now, hell you might not have even been going to the school you went to if it weren’t for him. But that didn’t mean the two of you were guaranteed a future.

Maybe the two of you would never get the right light or location to shine again. Maybe you were more of a Halley’s Comet, a once-in-a-lifetime thing.

And maybe you were a fool for holding out hope this long.

You tried to ration it out with yourself. When he’d said that thing about ‘growing and earning perspective’ you’d always thought of it in an academic/life sort of way. As in, you’d establish yourselves in your fields, you’d take opportunities, focus on your studies, and learn as much as you could, about school and about yourselves.

But maybe…maybe Peter had meant something else, something more..intimate. Your stomach churned at the thought. Had he really just broken things off with you so he could go to college and fuck around freely? You supposed it was better than him fucking around while you were together but still, you didn’t feel any better.

You knew you were probably being too dramatic about it, after all, you weren’t together. End of story. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought of him with other girls, you weren’t expecting him to shun all romantic endeavors for you but…you weren’t expecting it to happen so fast.

MJ had been the one to tell. For her to already have known, it must’ve been serious. You knew Peter cared what she thought (she was always sort of the critic of the group, you all valued her opinion) so he wouldn’t have told her or let her believe it if it was just a simple thing. The thought hit you like a knife to the gut. Peter was moving on.

Why shouldn’t you?

You slept in the next morning, trying to enjoy your days before school started up again, and maybe because you were still mopey about Peter. You didn’t want to be, but you couldn’t help it.

It wasn’t until you got a phone call from Alyssa that you actually sat up straight. “Hey Lyss, what’s up?”

“Hi Y/N! Can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”

“Me too,” you smiled. She always had a way of cheering you up, finding out about Peter right before you moved in with Lyss was probably a blessing. “Not gonna lie though, I’m staring at the boxes in my room and I’m already tired thinking about moving them all tomorrow,” you laughed.

“Oh my god same! But I’m not worried too much about it anymore, James and some of his friends offered to help us.”

“Oh, really?” You hadn’t heard about that. “That’s really sweet of them.”

“I know right? Well, technically James offered for them to help, as soon as he heard. But he said he talked to them afterward and they were okay with it.”

“That’s cool,” you’d have to make sure to thank James when you saw him again.

The two of you talked about when you’d be ready tomorrow and when you’d have time to go grocery shopping to buy the basics. You’d spend tomorrow afternoon moving your things in and you'd probably barely be done by nightfall.

You had set an alarm to wake you up early and you’d be packing your things into your parent's car, which you were borrowing. And you were going to try your very best to not think of Peter Parker.

Moving was a pain.

You were exhausted. Your back hurt, your arms were sore, and you resented yourself for being a bookworm now more than ever. Books were heavy.

Now you, Alyssa, and James were lounging on the floor of the living room having drinks in your first official apartment. To say you were excited was an understatement.

“I can’t believe we’re finally done,” Alyssa groaned as she threw her head back. James’ friends had left after you’d finished with the major things that needed to be brought up and you were eternally grateful they were there to help at all. You weren’t sure how you and Lyss would’ve handled chairs and couches by yourself.

“I can't believe we have our own place,” you grinned. James grinned right back and held up a hand for you to high-five, which you gladly accepted.

“Yeah, nice going you two,” he looked around and nodded, “this is a pretty good place. And what makes it even better, I’m just a couple of blocks from here.”

“Does that mean we’re going to be seeing more of you?” Lyss wrinkled her nose in feigned disgust and James flipped her off, making you laugh.

“Hey, you’re supposed to be thanking me right now,” James narrowed his eyes at her and she scoffed.

“I have thanked you dumbass, multiple times. And so has she,” she jutted her thumb at you.

“One more time wouldn’t hurt.”

“Seriously James?” He didn’t budge. She rolled her eyes before reluctantly saying, “Thank you so very much, we appreciate your help.”

James grinned widely, “Anything for a couple of pretty ladies,” he winked at you. “And I’d never miss a chance to get in a favor with the editor-in-chief.”

“Right,” you said, “you're in charge of assigning the articles when we get back, right Lyss?”

She nodded but she and James exchanged a look that gave you the feeling there was something you weren’t privy to, like there was something else he wanted from her.

“So Y/N,” he turned to you suddenly, ignoring Lyss’s prying eyes shooting at him, “excited to be back on the paper? Hopefully, you’ll get something better than some lousy bathroom renovations this time.”

You nodded, “‘Course I’m excited. And I don’t mind what I get, I’m alright with writing whatever, I’m just glad to be a part of the paper in general.” It wasn’t an easy task, getting on the writing team, but you’d done it and you’d always be grateful.

“Oh don’t be humble,” he rolled his eyes playfully, making you laugh, “I’m sure Lyss will give you something reallyjuicy.” There it was, another look exchanged between the two of them.

Alyssa turned towards you and smiled “Do you know that annual photography competition?”

“Oh yeah, that’s a big thing isn’t it?” It was major, from what you’d heard.

“Yeah, it is, and so is the article that needs to be written.” You tried to hide your grin but she didn’t bother hiding hers. “I don’t think I’m supposed to tell you this, but what the hell,” she shrugged carelessly, “it was rescheduled. So instead of it being held at the start of the fall semester like it usually is, it’ll be held a few weeks after we all come back for the spring semester. And you’re getting the article.”

That got you to sit up. “Are you serious,” you gripped her shoulders and shook her slightly. “Lyss, that’s amazing! Holy fuck,” you laughed breathlessly.

“I’m sorry about the wait, I didn’t know about the postponement until after I’d chosen you,” she shot you an apologetic look.

You shook your head quickly, “Are you kidding? This is amazing!”

“Congrats Y/N,” James grinned at you and pointed his bottle at you before bringing it up to his lips.

Before you could thank him, Alyssa spoke up, “He knew about it. Actually, he advocated for you to have it.”

Your jaw dropped as you stared at the two of them, “Are you serious?” You repeated.

James glared at her before returning his gaze to you and chuckling slightly, “Well she definitely wasn’t supposed to tell you that, but yes I did. You’re a great writer Y/N, you deserve it.”

“Thank you, James,” you said sincerely, “that—that means a lot. Thank you.”

“Of course.” He shot you a smile that felt different than any you’d ever seen on him, it was genuine. It wasn’t a cocky smirk or a cunning grin, it was a real smile and it warmed your heart.

“It’s not until next semester of course,” Alyssa’s voice cut in, catching your attention again, “and you’ll be getting stuff now, when we go back, duh. But I just wanted you to know,” she smiled at you.

You leaned over and pulled her into a hug, “Thank you.” You shot a look at James, “and thank you too. Thank you both,” you pulled away.

You don’t need to thank us Y/N, you’ve earned it,” James said genuinely. You shot him a soft smile and stood up. “I’m going to use the bathroom and when I get back, we’re toasting to this.”

“I’ll open you a bottle,” James promised and you thanked him before walking down the hall and opening the door to the bathroom. You were buzzing, this was an amazing opportunity, so many people were involved in that photography competition, and so many people read that article. It was always on the front page!

You couldn’t fight your smile as you left the restroom and you were so ready to thank them again for—

“Get a favor in with me my ass,” Alyssa hissed and you stopped in the hallway to listen to them. You knew it was wrong to eavesdrop but you could’ve sworn you’d heard your name a couple of seconds ago. “We both know why you reallywanted to help with the move.”

“You need to butt out Lyss,” James whispered back.

“Butt out? What do you mean butt out, you were just asking me to be your wing woman!”

“That was before you ratted me out for suggesting her for the photography article.”

“Oh please,” you heard her scoff and you could practically hear her rolling her eyes, “if anything, that totally worked in your favor.”

James grumbled something you couldn’t make out and you were about to step out when you heard Lyss speak up again, this time in a more gentle voice, “Look, you really like her, I think you should do something about it.”

You froze in your spot. “I thought you were the one who told me to take it slow, or back off completely.” James shot back.

“I know, but last year she was going through something. Now, I think you have an actual shot.”

Your mind flew back to MJ and what she’d said a couple of days ago outside that bookstore where the guy had given you his number. Everything about Peter and you moving on…

What if this was your shot?

You turned the corner, stepping out of the hall as if nothing had happened. “Got my bottle for me,” you smiled at James.

“All ready,” he held it up for you and grinned. You grabbed it and fell back into your spot on the floor, a little closer to James this time.

“Y/N we were just talking about—” Alyssa had started but her phone started ringing. She looked down and murmured a little curse. “Sorry guys, I have to take this, it’s my mom and she gets so pissed if I don’t answer her.” She grabbed her phone and stood up. You could’ve sworn you saw her glare a bit in James’ direction.

This was your chance.

Alyssa stepped away and you heard her voice fade as she moved further into the apartment. James leaned back, lifting his arms over his head, and stretched. You watched as his shirt lifted slightly and you looked down, feeling your face flush.

He took a swig of his drink and when you realized he probably wasn’t going to start any conversation, you cleared his throat to catch his attention. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

He smirked, “Why’re you asking?”

“Well…you flirt a lot and I guess I was just wondering if that was your personality or—”

“Or if I’m into you?” He finished and you nodded. “And what if I was into you?”

“Then I’d ask if you wanted to go out sometime.” You sucked in a breath. You’d never done this before, asking someone out. It was nerve-wracking.

“Are you asking me out on a date Y/L/N?” He smirked at you and you rolled your eyes, not appreciating the blush flaming on your cheeks.

“Depends…would you say yes?”

His smirk turned into a grin, “Yes. I would.”

“Cool,” you nodded, taking a sip from the bottle in your hands and looking away from him. You weren’t quite sure what to do now.

He laughed before leaning closer to you, “You have my number saved, right?” You nodded. “Good. I’ll text you the details.”

“Okay,” you said in a low voice. There was no need to speak up, he was right in front of you, and you found yourself stricken, not for the first time, by how beautiful his eyes were. Like vibrant lily pads floating across a pond on a warm spring day.

“Okay,” he repeated, matching your tone. The two of you stayed like that, staring at each other, neither of you speaking. You hadn’t even realized how close your faces had gotten until Alyssa stepped back out.

“Sorry about that, she just wanted to know how the move went.” You jumped back and James straightened back up. She eyes the two of you suspiciously before taking a seat.

“Did you tell her it went well?” He asked her.

She nodded and her gaze flickered between you and James. “Anything I missed?” She asked lightly.

You and James stared at each other for a moment, your mouth falling open yet you couldn’t bring yourself to speak. Thankfully, James was quicker, “Not really, Y/N was just telling me how excited she was for the article.”

“Yup,” you nodded quickly, “sooooo excited.”

“Okay,” Alyssa grinned wide as if she could see right through your bullshit, “alright.”

James stood up and groaned as he stretched out his arms and legs. You felt a pang of guilt run through when you realized that after everything he’d done, he sat on the floor. That couldn’t have been comfortable.

“Well, I’m gonna head out,” he said, grabbing his jacket from the coat hanger by the door and swinging it on. “Thanks for the company, and you’re welcome for the help."

“Bye,” Alyssa sang out.

“Bye,” you waved at him and smiled, “thanks again for everything.”

He grinned, “Bye girls,” he said, but his gaze was on you. He grabbed his bottle and opened the door to leave.

As soon as the click of the closing door sounded, Alyssa was turning toward you with a huge grin on her face. “I give it a few weeks and you’re exclusive.”

Of course she knew.

“I’ve got Professor Bell this semester.”

“Oh I know him,” you said. “He’s the one who’s never got a completed syllabus, right?”

James rolled his eyes. “Yes. The dude’s not that bad honestly, but he can't teach for shit. He’s absent for half the class, it’s like he forgets he’s a professor or something. And he’s always disheveled like he just got laid in his car.”

You laughed out loud. You and James went out after that night when he’d helped you and Alyssa move into your apartment. He’d planned a date and picked you up and the two of you really hit it off. He was different than you in a lot of ways and you supposed that’s part of the reason the two of you worked. Alyssa had been right, it wasn’t long before the two of you were exclusive.

He’d gone home to visit his family in Long Island for the first week of winter break and he’d invited you to go along, but you’d declined, claiming you had to spend the holidays with your family. He’d understood and was back in the city shortly after. He’d surprised you by showing up to your parents’ apartment unannounced and he’d brought flowers and gifts. After that, you thought you kinda had to meet his parents, so you took a short trip with him shortly before break ended. You’d had a good time and they were sweet people

It was spring now and Columbia seemed to bloom just as much as the flowers planted around its campus. It was gorgeous really, the trees were a vibrant green after looking so dull in the winter, the grass was luscious and perfectly cut, and the students were glowing after their long break. You were only a couple of days into the new semester but you were already feeling better than you were at the start of the year.

“The photography competition is coming up,” James stated as you passed a lamppost that had a flyer taped on it as you walked together to the newsroom, his arm draped around your waist.

“I know,” you grinned, “Lyss sent me links to the past few articles online, dating back at least 8 years. I’ve been reading up on it so much I think I know everything there is about the thing, and photography in general.”

James smirked, “Well look at you. I knew you were the perfect girl for the job. Are you taking a date to this thing?”

You grinned, “Are you offering?” It was pretty fancy, held at a venue close to the school, the winner received a cash prize and an internship with whichever newspaper or magazine was sponsoring it that year.

“Offering to go to this upscale party thing with the prettiest girl on campus? I’d be honored.”

“Great. Dress up, this thing has a dress code.”

“Will do. Can’t wait to look at some lame photo with you all night.” He leaned down to kiss you.

You laughed as you tried to kiss him back, “It’s actually really cool! These kids are super talented and they come up with wonderful ideas. One year, a kid submitted a photo of a broken camera, but the screen was still on, and on it was a picture of his childhood home. Photography is a chance to see the world through someone else’s eyes for a change, and it’s amazing what you could learn about someone if you just pay a little bit of attention to their photo.”

He chuckled, “It’s cute how much you care about this.”

You frowned. “Yeah, well it’s really interesting,” you shook your head, “you’ll see what I’m talking about when we go.”

He clicked his tongue, “They’re just pictures babe, what’s the big deal? I could take one right now.” He held up his phone with his free hand.

It wasn’t right, you knew that, but you couldn’t help the little whisper in your brain that said Peter wouldn’t act like this. Peter loved photography, you wouldn’t even need to explain to him how special it was, he already knew.

Seeing the flyers all around campus had been a little off-putting at first. Sure you were excited to get the front page topic, but all you could remember was last year, when you’d seen the flyers and took that as a sign to reach out again.

Not that it had gotten you anywhere.

You tried to shove the memory away. It wouldn’t do you any good dwelling on him right now, you had James in your life now, and you were happy. Or trying to be. You reminded yourself of the words you had told MJ that day at the end of summer.

He’s not here, he doesn’t matter.

And as if the universe were playing the biggest joke on you, as if all the stars in the sky had gathered around to play one big, cosmic, prank on you, you heard the very last voice you ever expected to hear. Ever.

“Ace, is that you?”

read part 4 here

'seasonal’ taglist: @keira-kaz2y5 @imafangirlofeverything

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jocelynscrazyideas · 4 months

Text

Just friends? pt. 2 | Matt Rempe x Reader

pt. 1

Summary: making your way up to your dream job was difficult, but leaving it may be harder that ever.

Warnings: language, small portion of smut, eating, THE NOTEBOOK IS MENTIONED😛🥲

A:N- it’s really short but yuhh

━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━

It’s been a good month of dating my bestfriend. I’m just scared that if anything goes wrong, that we wouldn’t be the same.

I’ve understood that when or I should say, If we breakup, we of course won’t be friends, but I wnat to talk. Keep up in life. Support him.

Matt has made it clear that it’s me, and only me. I know, dating an nhl player will be hard, because there is always someone out there thinking your boyfriend is cute.

“Dumper?” Matt calls out for me. I’m getting ready in his bathroom. Today, it’s the first day in off season. The rangers had won the third round of playoffs, but we didn’t make it to the end.

You might be wondering why Matt calls me dumper. It’s a long story, taht im glad to walks down with you.

~memory~

“Matt!” I groan as he thrusts into one last time. He releases into me, I feel I’m going to cum as well.

“You cum dump.” Matt laughs out. He cleans us up, and stands up to throw the tissues he used to clean up away. “I do not!” I yell out, I know I do. It makes sense to me.

Why would I cum in like five different times if I feel I’m going to release at one time?

Matt comes down onto me and kissed me from my knee up. He hits my neck and sucks down until I feel nothing.

“Nice hickey.” He chirps at me.

“Oh yeah? I wonder wher i hit it from.” I sarcastically joke with him. He gets hurts from that and lays down on my bare chest.

His brown hair all over.

It’s dark. Bedroom lights are off and the only thing lighting the house is the stars.

He cuddles into me for a few hours while I talk and yap about school, and when I should get my job.

“Where are you?” Matt yells for me.

“Bathroom! I have the interview today!” I let Matt know that I’m fully booked, and don’t have time for him.

“Well can we watch a movie tonight? Play some uno!” Matt asked me as he walks into the bathroom. His warm chest connects like a puzzle into my back. He leans into me and kissed my neck. He lays his fluffy hair into the crook of my neck. “I love you.” Matt whispers into my ear.

“Three months.” I say. I pushed him off my shoulder and cussed at him.

“Hey shithwsd?” I laugh at him.

“Hm?” Matt moans in his sleepy voice.

“Go shower. I’ll drive you down to the office.” I follow up. Matt has locker clean out today, many last minute interviews and press conferences.

I dropped Matt off at the arena and sat in my car.

Maybe he’s the one for me. The one guy that I won’t mess up with.

“Hey baby! How was the interview?” Matt asked me as I walk into the kitchen. Matt is cooking us some dinner and I set my purse down. I fall on the couch.

“That bad?” Matt questioned.

I felt my heart drop. How do I tell him, “No it was good… it’s the fact they don’t have an official employment spot for me here in New York. If I took the job, I would have to move to Wyoming.”

Yeah, no.

“Um, it went pretty well.” I replied, my high pitched cracky voice squeaked out. I think Matt knows I’m stressed. I’m sure I have actual sweat droplets swimming down in my face.

“You’re lying.” Matt looked down at me. He standing above me form the couch.

“No im not.” I laugh out. I stand up and dance with him back to the kitchen.

“Oh my love. My little baby.” I say as I rest my head into his chest. He smiles down at me and he picks me up.

“Give me.” Matt gestured to my foot as he set me down on the counter top.

I eye the stove that he left on. “What are we eating tonight?” I ask him. I try to distract myself.

God. Maybe I shouldn’t take the job.

He looks back at the side over his shoulder, and continues to take off my left shoe. My right foot is hanging and I kick him.

“Oh, uh I made some eggs, just so we could eat some toast and eggs. I was lazy, sorry.” Matt explained. He turned red in embarrassment.

“No. It’s perfect.” It’s the little things. I have to take things into consideration, not just the fact he does big gestures. He does this small thing that matters to me. Like, cooking dinner every night. Or just listening to me talk. Even if he doesn’t care, or deep down isn’t listening, he still looks like he cares.

Matt smirked and he dropped my left foot, only to un tie my right shoe. Once he finished he picked me up and kissed me. “What movie?” Matt asked me as I sit in our couch.

He plates everything into a large bowl and hands me a few slices of apples. “You’d be such a great dad.” I muttered.

“I’m sorry. A father?!” Matt exclaimed. He looks me up and down, smirking. Teeth out. His eyes look at me, I feel him leaving closer.

He grips onto a blanket as he sits down on the couch right beside me.

He turns the TV on to play the notebook.

I cried at the en of the movie. Matt holds me as he sleeps in my arms. He snores and he shakes as I weep and cry.

Matt looks up as his head rested on my breasts. “Are you okay? Why are you crying?” Matt mumbled. He rubs his eyes once he kissed my left boob.

He gets up and puts out dishes away. He cleans up the couch, and picks me up. “The movie that sad?” Matt asked me. I understand this season was hard so I let him sleep during the movie.

“You’ve never watched The Notevook?” I inferred, I look outside our window and Matt sets me down.

“I have, but I always fall asleep.” He looks at me and he pulls his clothes off. He’s left in his under set and I do the same. I unclamp my bra and lay in bed. I slide my panties off and lick them to the floor.

Matt fliers with me and he tightens his arms around me.

“I love you.” Matt reminded me, for the hundredth time.

“I have to move, if I take the job.” I let out.

Matt loosens his grip and he breaths in. “So take the job.” He said.

“It’s hard, but we can always fly out together.” Matt implied. We lay in bed. Not thinking about anything, well other than the fact I could leave.

Right when life gets good.

#jocelynscrazyideas #hockey #nhl #matt rempe x reader #matt rempe #new york rangers #ny rangers #NYR #nhl fic #hockey blurb #🍇🍇🍇

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the-heros-sidekick · 4 months

Text

❝ went looking for a creation myth, ended up with a pair of cracked lips. ❞

He feels it first at the back of his neck. A buzzing, like the crackling of electricity underneath his skin, reverberating against the hollow of his skull. Something is knocking, making its presence known: A particular kind of evil that had snuck into Stiles’ mind once already, stealing away control over his body. Condemning him to sit back, trapped in his own mind, rendering him powerless. Doomed to watch in horror as his blood-stained hands wielded sharpened blades against those he loved. They’d gotten him out, though nearly at the cost of his own life—a sacrifice Stiles had been more than willing to make, so long as no one else would get hurt because of him. And yet something must have stayed behind, lodged into the membrane of his skull like a shard of glass. For the longest time he’d managed to keep the horrors contained to only haunt him in the dead of night, leaving him sleep deprived and wrung out, every nerve ending scraped thin. But now, even the light of day no longer offers refuge for Stiles to feel safe. Long gone is the once obnoxiously loud, carefree kid—left in its stead is a man carrying himself with caution, treading quietly across the space between other people’s reality and what lies beyond. He knows there are demons out there listening, waiting for an opportunity to exploit any sign of weakness—a door left slightly ajar, perhaps, much like the door to Stiles’ mind they’d never managed to close. The feeling of impending doom crescendos and Stiles, feeling sick to his stomach with fear, clings desperately to the words he repeats to himself like a mantra. "Nothing gets in unless you let it.” But the words turn to ash in his mouth, memories of past experiences proving him a liar.

an exploration of Teen Wolf's 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐊𝐈 who, after leaving Beacon Hills behind, settled down in New York where he's now considered the FBIs golden boy ― crafted for @fakevz. following canon events of the show with additional headcanons. low activity & very crossover friendly. minors dni. this blog operates in english only. est. 2014 ♗ ©

𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐘 𝐈𝐍: loss of innocence ⊹ comedic sidekick ⊹ overcoming demonic possession ⊹ a morally gray world ⊹ undying loyalty ⊹ survivor's guilt ⊹ agent of chaos ⊹ deflecting with humor

I think I've loved you since I met you. I just mistook it for curiosity.

Ever since I first laid eyes on you, I felt this unquenchable need to know you.I blamed it on ulterior motives, justified it because I needed something from you, because you held the answers I was looking for, because no one else was able to help but you. Looking back on it now though, I'm starting to think that maybe some part of me knew right from the start, that first night I stumbled upon you in the woods, what took me years to see: Maybe my heart recognized that it was going to love you right away, and I spent the years to come catching up with what it knew right from the start. That it was always going to be you. How could it ever have been anyone else? Through mayhem and bloodshed, through fear and loss, through grief and sleepless nights, you were the one constant that remained. When I lost sight of everything--first myself, then reality, then hope--you were the one guiding my way like a beacon, or a north star. If I've ever known peace, it's in all the moments that your hand has touched mine and that your arms have held me tirelessly, putting your body like a shield between me and every inkling of danger. Of all the late-night wonderings of trying to make sense of the last decade (and failing), what remains is this singular thought: At least it was you. At least it was me. At least it was us, together. I'd bear it all a million times over if it meant I got to hold your hand at the end of it all. You are the moment of quiet at the end of a long day, you are breathless laughter, you're the patch of sunlight filtering in through the window that I stand in to warm myself. You are everything good in this world and living proof that there is hope despite it all, and I love you beyond measure.

#thank you @theallegedsourwolf for this amazing edit <3 #it gets sappy under the cut. read at your own risk #modern setting #supernatural #english #r: engaged #f: teen wolf #he/him #editsfakevz #userfakevz

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melodygatesauthor · 1 year

Text

Always Yours, Never Mine

Yandere Miguel O'Hara X f!Reader

Universe One - The Original

Series Masterlist - Beta Read by @campingwiththecharmings

Summary

In every universe there's a version of you that exists. In some of those universes, you're in love with me; in others, you don't even know my name. None of it matters though, because when I find you, I will have you, I'll make you love me, and I will never lose you again.

Inclusivity

Reader is not race coded, reader lives in New York in North America but isn't necessarily American, reader is not religion coded, reader is smaller than Miguel but like so is almost everyone, reader is female.

Tags/Warnings

NSFW, dub-con due to identity issues, non-con, rape, obsession, Miguel is not Spider-Man, does NOT take place in the MCU, Miguel is a physicist, Miguel needs therapy, smut, violence, blood play, yandere, protective, obsessive, possessive, murder, suicide, drunk driving, anal sex, oral sex, major character death, romance, angst. - Some (not as triggering) tags were left out in order to avoid spoilers.

Word Count: 2.6k

It was a morning like every other.

You opened your eyes, taking in your surroundings, feeling the stirring of Miguel while he snored against your chest. Looking over at the clock, you noticed it wasn’t quite seven yet, and it would still be a few minutes before your alarm sounded, signaling it was time for you both to get ready for work. He shifted a little, smacking his lips together before going back to his mouth-breathing slumber. Precious.

You’d only been married for a year, but it was a perfect year. It was a year filled with tear-inducing laughter, eating takeout on the couch, and afternoon naps when you and Miguel both managed to get the day off together. You couldn’t ask for a better way to spend your forever, and you knew he felt the same.

You carded your fingers through his dark hair as you lay there, enjoying the scent of his shampoo and wondering if you’ll ever get tired of it. Something about it made your heart swell, and it reminded you that you were home. He rolled his cheek into your torso more, mouth still open and creating a dark spot on your shirt where drool spilled out. A sharp snore erupted from him as he stirred, startling you. You giggled, feeling silly for jumping so suddenly.

That sound – He loved that sound.

Your sweet little laugh that permeated through everything, that woke him out of the deepest sleep, that brought him back to the present every single time he heard it. He looked up at you, his breath always catching in his chest at the sight of you, so beautiful in every single way; nothing could change how you made him feel.

“Good morning handsome,” you said, laughing and wiping a bit of spit from his stubbled cheek, “you were out. Having a good dream?”

You started to slide out of bed, but he caged you in with his ridiculously strong arms, keeping you in place and mumbling something incoherent against your stomach.

“Baby, we have to get going. I have that big meeting today with the art director at the firm, and you have to pitch your idea to the board,” you said, tapping his shoulder.

He looked up at you again, eyes still hooded from sleep. He sighed, leaning up on his elbows and pressing his lips against yours hungrily. Miguel seemed to growl sometimes when he got in the heat of passion with you. His massive hand grabbed your hip and pulled you under him further, while the other cupped the back of your head to make the impossibly deep kisses even deeper.

“We have a few minutes,” he insisted, reaching between you both to pull his sweats around his thighs.

You moaned, another sweet sound you made that Miguel could record and listen to on repeat for an eternity. Such a simple noise and yet it made a shiver run down his spine almost every time he heard it. He brushed the head of his cock against your inner thigh, making your skin slick with his precum. He pulled aside your panties, not bothering to take them off; he wanted you now, and removing them would take too much time.

No matter how long you and Miguel had been together, and no matter how many times he split you open, you never quite got used to the stretch. You gasped, arching your chest into his with that first thrust, giving him the opening to wrap both arms around your back and pull you close. You loved the sound of his fast and desperate breaths while he huffed in your ear, chasing his release, and trying to make sure you got yours too. He knew exactly how to position himself to ensure he hit all the right spots, not that it would be difficult given his size; he hit almost every spot.

“Oh, hermosa, always so tight, so wet…” he grunted as he slid forward again full to the hilt.

“F-fuck, Miguel!” You dug your nails into his back, putting your lips against his chiseled chest.

“Use your teeth on me, baby, give me something nice to look at when I change out of my lab coat tonight,” he said playfully before feeling your teeth latch onto his tanned skin.

He let out a low groan, enjoying the combined pain and pleasure. He snapped his hips forward and you cried out. He buried his face into your neck, pulling your mouth off his chest. He wanted to smell you; in an almost feral way, Miguel wanted to pull you close and devour you. He sucked on your neck, drawing some of the tender skin into his mouth, nipping and licking while you turned into a gasping, writhing mess beneath him.

“So perfect, honey-fuck—“

You gasped as he started fucking you faster, driving his cock deep into your fluttering cunt. You felt like you were going to rip in half, as you often did when he was inside of you. He cupped the back of your head and looked into your eyes. Fuck he loved you. With other guys you’d dated, there was always an air of doubt, but never with Miguel.

He kissed you, tangling his tongue with yours. You whined into his mouth, he loved the way he could send you reeling with his cock alone. You took him so well, you were perfect.

“I could fill you up forever, you know that?” He asked before bottoming out in your warm channel once more. “Could spend a lifetime stuffing you with my cum and it wouldn’t be enough, hermosa.”

Miguel always knew just what to say to make you come undone. You felt the heat pooling in your core, the sensation he’d given you time and time again. Your body was both vibrantly alive and tingling numb all at once. You dug your nails into his shoulders once more, he winced and hissed.

“Oh shit, baby—ah!”

Miguel’s pace slowed but he didn’t stop the rocking of his hips as he pumped you full of hot cum. You felt it spilling into you, painting your walls white while he fucked you through it. You helped him along as you reached your own climax, your tight cunt milking his cock for every last drop it could give you. Your screams filled the house, as they always did when he made you lose your mind.

He always felt like he had to use every ounce of his strength to avoid crushing you underneath his mass after he was spent. You kissed his cheek, like you always did when the two of you were done being intimate. He chuckled before pulling out of you and getting off the bed. Miguel went to the bathroom and cleaned up before tossing a towel your way.

“Honey, a couple girls from the office wanted to go out for drinks tonight so I think I’ll join them, that okay?” You finished cleaning yourself up before making your way to the bathroom where he was brushing his teeth.

“Who’s going?” He spit in the sink.

“Stacy and Mira.” You finished using the toilet before starting the shower.

“Those two? Really?”

He wiped his mouth and turned to you while you stepped into the shower. Miguel didn’t consider himself the controlling or possessive type, but those two had a tendency to be wild and unpredictable. He wasn’t going to tell you no. He didn’t get a woman like you by treating you as though you were his property, but he was going to make it known that he wanted you to be careful.

“I know, I know,” you said as you started washing yourself, “I’ll be careful, daddy. I’ll be home at 10:30 on the dot.”

He chuckled, “you know if you keep calling me that, I might have to take you back to bed, hermosa.”

You laughed and continued getting ready. You knew he wasn’t a fan of your work friends, but that wasn’t going to stop you from going out anyway. It’s not that you were a party girl, in fact your idea of a good time was curling up on the couch with Miguel and a good movie. It was just nice to get out for a little while and forget about the struggles of life.

Miguel always -always- kissed you goodbye before you both left for work. Even if you’d had an early morning disagreement, leaving you both pissed off and ready to ring each other’s necks, he made sure to kiss you.

“Adiós, mi vida,” he pressed his lips to yours just before you got into your car.

There were so many things that he would spend his life wondering, like: did you know you weren’t ever going to step foot in that house again? Did you know that was the last time you would ever get in your car to go in for another mundane day at work? Did you know that would be the last time you’d ever kiss your husband?

Probably not…but he would never forget.

Miguel was woken at 10:53pm that night out of a dead sleep to a knock on the door. He jumped up, noticing immediately that you weren’t in the bed with him. There was another knock, louder this time.

He knew. Deep down he knew that something had happened to you. With a shaking hand, he opened the door. You weren’t dead, and with that he found some relief, but your odds of survival were slim. Three dumb girls left the bar that night, one of which was too drunk to drive, but you let her drive you anyway. Only one of you had survived the accident, and it was you.

Miguel didn’t care that your face was disfigured, or that you were missing five teeth. He didn’t care that you weren’t going to be able to walk again, or that you might need him to spoon feed you for the rest of your lives together. He only cared that you were still breathing, even if it was labored and sounded like someone sucking the last of their beverage through a straw.

“I got here as fast as I could,” your step-sister, Emily, arrived at the hospital just an hour after Miguel had.

She put a hand on Miguel’s back as she sat next to him in the waiting room, seeing how distraught he was. With a heavy sigh, she brought both hands together and held onto her coffee cup as though her life depended on it. He could see her shaking, but he was still too angry for empathy. In fact, he thought to himself that he was glad the other two women had died, because if they hadn’t…he might’ve just killed them himself.

“How’s she do–”

“Not good,” he snapped, looking over at her.

“Oh, Miguel…” she wiped a tear from his face, “she’ll pull through, she always does.”

Except this time, you didn’t. You lived for forty-two more painful hours before your lungs collapsed and there was nothing any of them could do to save you. It was like his heart had been ripped out and trampled by a stampede.

Mi vida.

He thought about killing himself that night; considered taking the gun out of the safe he kept in the closet, holding the barrel to his skull and pulling the fucking trigger. There was nothing -nothing- that mattered to him more than you, and nothing that ever would matter more than you.

He didn’t though. There was a nagging in his head that told him not to do it, and so he put the gun back in the case and closed it, replacing it in the closet. He helped your step-sister, step-father, and your mother with funeral arrangements, but he hardly participated. Was he really supposed to give a shit what the flowers that surrounded your casket looked like? Fucking stupid.

Nothing felt the same after you were gone. Coffee didn’t smell the same, and food didn’t taste the same. He even had to start going to an actual hairdresser to get his hair trimmed because you weren’t there to do it for him. He was lost without you, in every way.

Months went by, and he’d hoped it would get easier, but it hadn’t. He still saw you in every aisle of the grocery store, picking out your favorite snacks. He still woke up in the night in a sleepy haze, reaching to wrap his arm around your torso, but he never found it. Miguel would sometimes still accidentally pour two cups of coffee on Sunday morning, forgetting that he’d be sitting alone on the patio.

“Dr. O’Hara!”

He jumped, looking up from his notepad to see his boss, Dr. Carleton Drake. The man looked down on him where he sat. He put a hand on Miguel’s broad shoulder.

“I know you’re still going through a tough time here, but we’re on the forefront of a scientific breakthrough and I need you to be present, alright?” He raised his dark eyebrows at Miguel. “I need that brain of yours on this project. I need you to get it together, big guy.”

The breakthrough in question was something right out of a science fiction movie. Miguel had always scoffed at Drake’s overly ambitious dream of traveling the multiverse, assuming the multiverse even existed. Truth be told, he’d thought it was all hogwash, but the idea that struck him that day gave him hope…hope that he might see you again.

It took three more months of sleepless nights, tireless tinkering and research for him to make something that worked. Drake was beyond impressed with the initial test, sending a rabbit from their universe to another and bringing it back with a camera attached to its collar.

“Someone dispose of the carcass,” Drake said, pulling the camera from the creature.

Miguel felt like he had a new purpose, a new reason for living. He needed to find a way to make the device work. It became his mission, because he knew once he figured it out, he would finally see you again.

It was a year and a half after you’d passed on the dot that the device was ready, as ready as it would ever be. He’d made it compact and sleek. It looked no different than a watch, and he could hide under a sleeve if needed. The most recent rabbit they’d sent out lived, but only as long as it didn’t come back. Every specimen sent out seemed to perish on the journey home.

Miguel understood that the device was flawed, and far from perfect. Having a watch that could take him to any universe imaginable, but couldn’t return him to his own, didn’t matter to him though. He didn’t want a world without you in it, and he had no intention of coming back once he left.

Miguel returned home, grabbing some essentials, not knowing where the watch might bring him, and he put the items in a small knapsack for the journey. There was a single photo, one of the two of you that he wanted to take as well, so he could always remember the original you, for what it was worth.

When he fired up the watch, he let it choose a destination at random. He didn’t know where he would end up, all he knew was that he would find you, no matter what universe you were in, and that he would make sure he never lost you again.

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Miguel O'Hara Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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