#in 20 years it’s got to be something you can’t bring up at the dinner table without being shouted down | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fullybooked · 8 months ago

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What Are My Other Options?

Title: What are my other options? Pairing: Insomniac!PeterParker x Reader Word count: 9.6k Warnings: mentions of cheating (but Peter would never) Notes: F/T = favorite topping Summary: The reader has come to the conclusion that Peter is cheating on them. What else are they supposed to think when he’s always running off and constantly canceling their plans? That he’s Spider-Man?

It wasn’t often that you got a chance to dress up anymore. As a grad student, there was very little spare time to spend on your appearance, and when that kind of rare opportunity arose, you jumped at it. So you didn’t feel bad about spending the last hour in front of a mirror, tossing around outfits, and destroying the closet in the process.

The occasion? The New York Times Gala. You’d been working for the biggest news outlet in the state for your graduate program for investigative journalism, a spot you had fought tooth and nail for. Every News Outlet and invited celebrity would be there, the Daily Bugle, The Wallstreet Journal, USA Today, and you’d heard whispers of Tony Stark attending. You hadn’t even learned until last week that you would be allowed the attend as well. As nothing more than an intern, you hadn’t seen there being a reason.

But your boss had given you the news last Friday, and you’d practically skipped home to tell your boyfriend, Peter, about it. And that you had a plus one. He’d been almost as excited as you.

Which is why you were finding it hard to believe that he wasn’t home right now. He wasn’t getting ready with you, he wasn’t even answering your calls or texts. So while you were excited, there was a bubble of worry hiding underneath.

“Where is he?” You’re muttering to no one but yourself. The last touches of your outfit were going on, and the last train you could take would be at the station in 20 minutes. Your window was closing.

Looking down at your phone while adjusting your choice of red accessories, you start to wonder if something bad had happened to him. After all, New York was crawling with supervillains and regular villains alike. And Peter was equipped for any kind of fight he might’ve run into. Ever since you met him in your first year of college, he had been one of the most peaceful people you’d ever met.

Your red shoes rest by the door, and while pacing your living room, you decide to call his Aunt May. She would surely know if anything, bad or good, had stopped Peter from coming home on such an important night. You click on her contact, resisting the urge to bite your nails from nerves.

It’s only two rings before she answers, “(Y/N)!” she answers happily, “I’m a little shocked to be hearing from you so late, is everything alright? Isn’t tonight your Gala for work?”

Aunt May was nothing short of a saint. Kind and caring, traits she’d taught Peter as she raised him. You adored her, the two of you always got along great when you and Peter volunteered at FEAST or went over for dinner. You weren’t sure if the lack of concern in her voice should make you more worried or not.

“It is,” you tell her as you watch the clock tick on, “but I haven’t been able to get ahold of Peter all night. I’m starting to worry. Have you heard from him?”

There’s a hum of confusion on her end, “I’m afraid not, dear,” she says, “but I wouldn't start worrying just you. We both know how bad he is at keeping time.”

It was true. Peter was chronically late. Normally, it was funny, except for the few times he was an hour late to your date nights. But this was different. He knew how important this night was for you and your career as an investigative journalist.

“I know…” you agree with May, “It’s just…I can’t be late for this, and the last train is leaving in 15 minutes.”

Your phone buzzes in your hand as you speak to her, and you bring it away from your ear to glance at the screen. A photo of you and Peter in front of the Ferris wheel at Coney Island is on screen, his name appearing with heart emojis next to it. Relief floods your system.

“Oh!” you gasp and return to speaking with May, “that’s him! I’m so sorry for bugging you May!”

She chuckles, “don’t be, dear. You two have a good time!”

You hang up, immediately answering Peter’s call, “Pete! Where are you!? I’ve been calling you all night!”

“I know, I know, I’m so sorry,” his voice sounds winded and tired, like he was running, “I just…got wrapped up in something at work, me and Doc were talking about his lab and…I’m really sorry!”

“Well, where are you?” You ask. There was no point in telling him it was okay, because it didn’t feel okay, “the last train is about to leave and we can’t be late–”

“(Y/N), I don’t think I’ll be able to make it,” his voice cuts you off before you can continue your nervous ramble, “Me and Doc are still wrapped up in this lab project and I won’t be able to make it back in time for the gala. I know how important this was to you and I promise I will make up for this tenfold for the next 20 years–”

You could hear the rushing wind of New York behind the phone as he continued on an apology that you didn’t feel in your chest. He sounded sorry, sure, but you could only feel disappointment in his words. Your shoes are on your feet, and you’re looking at the clock hanging next to a vacation photo of the two of you on the beach. Your lack of response is response enough to him, but you’re too busy deciding if you should be angry or not.

“(Y/N),” he says your name, “I can’t say I’m sorry enough, but you’ll do fantastic even if I’m not there.”

“Seriously?! Of all nights, Peter, you have to pick tonight to flake out on me? You know how important this is and you can’t even look at a clock for two hours?!”

You had 10 minutes to get to the train station from your apartment, a task that would surely try and ruin your hour of work on how you looked.

“I know, babe, I’m so–”

You click the end call button before he can finish. Fumbling with your keys, can feel your cheeks warming up in a rush of emotions. First, embarrassment. A couple of people in your office had been excited to meet Peter, and now you would show up alone. Stood up by your boyfriend of 4 years. The gala would go on without him, and you would have to put on a pretty smile to go along with it.

Which is exactly what you did, barely making it on time to walk with your boss into the decorated hall. Telling your coworkers that your boyfriend had eaten some bad takeout for dinner and was at home nursing himself back to health. Hoping nobody saw how your eye twitched whenever Peter texted you before turning your phone on do not disturb.

That night, you locked the bedroom door and left a pillow and blanket on the couch.

★★★★★★

Something you and Peter had in common was your love of pizza. Both of you had differing opinions on the best pizza place in New York, but you did agree that any pizza was better than no pizza. So when you two moved in together, it was an unspoken rule that at least one night a week, you scaped whatever money you had together and ordered a large pizza.

“It’s my week to pick,” you remind him as you sit cross-legged on the couch in your studio apartment, holding the phone of power in your hand, “and I say Benny’s.”

Peter is standing in the kitchen, pulling a can of soda from the fridge, “aw man,” he says, “but they don’t have the good pepperoni.”

“But they have the Italian sausage,” you remind him, already pulling up Doordash on your phone, “and it’s my night.”

Peter looks over his shoulder, a smile on his face that always makes you blush and look away like a teenager, “you’re lucky I love you,” he says, “and I’m willing to part with the good pepperoni.”

You giggle back, “Aren’t I the luckiest? So half sausage half (F/T)?”

“It’s your world, babe,” he says as he walks around the couch to sit beside you, “I’m just living in it.”

“That’s the answer I was looking for,” you look over at him with a grin.

These nights were the ones you loved the most. The two of you in pajamas, ordering your favorite food, waiting for the newest episode of Game of Thrones to air, in the quiet of the apartment. Where the noise and air of New York felt like it was miles away, and your little bubble couldn’t be disturbed.

Peter leans down, his eyes soft when he looks at you, and he kisses you slowly. Every kiss with him, deep or small, left you with fire in your veins. Whether it was innocent or lewd, at home or in the park, an apology kiss or a hello kiss, you always felt like you were walking on the hot air of a volcanic eruption. He pulls away, smiling like he was looking at the sun for the first time.

“Hm,” you gaze back at him, “I don’t care how much you kiss me, I won’t be swayed into Lenny’s.”

He gives a dramatically fake sigh, “There went the plan of seducing you into mushroom on half.”

“Well, I didn’t say that…” you roll your eyes, still smiling. You were always smiling with Peter. Or, most of the time you were.

His phone dings on the coffee table in front of you, the screen face down but illuminating the light-colored wood around it. It caught you off guard for a moment, that his screen is face down. And that he picked it up immediately. But you didn’t let it bother you for long, deciding to order the pizza while he checked whatever notification he had.

Just as you hit delivery, Peter stands up from the couch in too quick of a motion to be reassuring. You jump slightly at his speed, looking back at him in confusion. Tilting your head, you look as he shoves his phone into his back pocket.

“Pete?” you say in an unsure voice, “is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s great,” he says. The slight rise at the end of his sentence makes you narrow your eyes, “It’s just uh…Doc texted me and uh he says he’s had a breakthrough on this project, but he needs my help with it..”

You can’t hide the disappointment in your expression as he makes a reach for his keys hanging by the door, and for his bag by the couch.

“Oh…” you say, trying to mask the sound of defeat in your voice, “right now? It’s almost nine pm.”

“Yeah, it’s just…a really important project,” he insists as he pulls his shoes on hurriedly. You would think he’d just gotten a call from the police with how quickly he was moving, “and you know Doc, he’s always rushing through the numbers, so I should just make sure he’s got them all right before moving on.”

He was rambling. His voice was rising and falling. Every tell he had that he was lying, but you didn’t want to jump to that conclusion. What was there for him to lie about? What would have him running from the apartment so late? He did care a lot about the projects he and Doc had going at the lab, he was always doing some kind of numbers crunch for his boss.

Peter slows his pace when he takes note of your expression, avoiding his eyes, “I swear I’ll be right back,” he says as he walks back towards the couch where you sat, “30 minutes tops, I’ll be here before the pizza guy, I promise.”

So it wouldn’t be a long late night call by Doc, then. That makes you feel the tiniest bit better, and you give him a small half-hearted smile. What were you supposed to say? No, don’t go to your job that you’re so crazy passionate about? Don’t go help your boss on a project that could potentially change lives? You make no move to stop him.

“I promise,” Peter repeats when he doesn’t see a lift in your spirits. He leans down, pressing his lips to yours again, lighting you on fire from the inside, “don’t start the episode without me!”

You tried to take that as a sign that he meant it. Half an hour and he would be back with the pizza still hot in the box. So you kissed him goodbye and sat on the couch by yourself in the apartment. As soon as the episode started, you hit pause and texted Peter that you had done so, letting him know that every second you were away from Jon Snow would be counted towards your next pizza night.

20 minutes passed, and the pizza showed up with steam rising from the box. His half with sausage and mushroom was untouched as you grabbed a slice from your side. Just because he said to wait on the show didn’t mean you had to wait for dinner.

30 minutes, and you figured he was fighting the night rush on the train. He didn’t answer your text message, but he probably needed all of his attention on his work right now. You don’t make a fuss, keeping the show paused.

After an hour of no response, you get fed up of sitting with just your phone and decide to unpause the show. If he came in and mentioned it, you would tell him to watch it tomorrow night while you were at work. But he doesn’t come back. Even when the episode is over, you haven’t heard the jingle of the keys in the lock.

Two hours late, as you decide to pack it up for bed, your phone buzzes on the coffee table. From the kitchen, putting the box of pizza in the fridge, you heavily roll your eyes. Your disappointment was riddled with hints of anger, but there was also confusion. Peter had always been flakey, he’d always been late, he’d always been absent-minded and forgetful, but you couldn’t stop thinking about the way he’d put his phone face time when around you lately.

It could mean nothing. In fact, it probably did mean nothing, but there was a sense of dread in your gut. You weren’t sure you wanted to face the idea that was forming in the back of your head. Because you loved Peter, you loved him so much you weren’t sure what life had been like before you started loving him. He made you feel safe and seen and understood, he made you feel like someone important in a city where nobody mattered unless they were on the front page of a magazine.

And if there was one thing you were sure of anymore, it was that Peter Parker loved you too. Nothing had shaken that fact over the last four years, and you weren’t sure anything ever would.

But you could still be upset with him when he did things like this. Like bailing on your traditional date night, like standing you up on one of the most important nights of your rising career. You picked up your phone, reading the text from Peter that had come in two minutes ago. All the lights in the apartment were off, and you were ready to tuck yourself into bed.

His message read, “Baby I’m so sorry. I’m gonna be a little while still, please don’t be too mad at me.”

The words “I’m so sorry” were starting to grow old to you. You lock your phone and leave it in the living room with the screen facing up, no response, and your chest getting heavier and heavier as you sit in the empty apartment by yourself.

★★★★★★

He’s just late, you tell yourself, like always. He’s always late.

You couldn’t even tell yourself that he’d never been two hours late befor because he had. Sitting in the corner booth of Leo’s pizza, more dressed up than you should be for a place like this, you try to convince yourself that Peter was late for a good reason.

The train broke down, he’d had his phone stolen, sandman was on the loose again and he had to take the long way here.

But the news was mostly quiet, with no attacks, and he hadn’t even texted you. Again.

You stir the straw in your soda, watching the melting ice bump into the sides of the glass as your mind runs rampant. After Peter had bailed on your pizza and Game of Thrones night, you had been angry and hurt and unable to hide that from him. His apology? Take you out to Leo’s for dinner, your favorite pizza place of all time.

There was no way Peter would stand you up for your apology date. Not even he was the absent-minded, you were sure. You’d been talking about it just this morning over breakfast in the kitchen. He’d given you free rein of the toppings, and he would meet you here after work.

Looking at the clock, two hours had become three, and Leo’s would close in one more. Sitting back in your booth seat, you swallow the lump of emotions that wanted to burst out.

“That boy still not here?” Leo, the man behind the counter, asks you.

The burly Italian man had been witness to your guys’ relationship grow. From your first date to your anniversary dates to your celebration dates. He’d seen it all from behind the counter, and you were sure he would be witness to every other milestone. At least, you had been.

Sitting in the booth alone, you were beginning to wonder if there was anything beyond these four years with Pete.

“I wish I knew, Leo,” you admit and look down at your phone.

It buzzes as you’re looking at it. But when you see Pete’s name pop up, you don’t feel any sense of relief or anger or even sadness. Maybe you just didn’t want to feel it all at once in front of poor Leo. He didn’t need to witness that part of your relationship.

Pete had said, “Where are you at? Working late?”

You couldn’t help the scoff, “he forgot about me,” you say more to yourself than anyone else.

“What was that?” Leo asks when he catches a hint of your mumbling.

You look up from the phone, tucking it away into your pocket, and give the man a tight smile, “nothing, Leo. Sorry for wasting your time.”

Pushing yourself out of the booth, you wonder how you would go about this. Peter had been bailing on you more and more these past few months. With date the gala, with date night, and not to mention the countless nights he comes home so late you think he’s an intruder half the time. Had he always been like this and you were only noticing now that you lived together? Or had you just ignored it because of how much you loved him?

“Not a waste of time,” Leo assures you as you walk towards the door, “you and Peter will come back soon, I’m sure.”

He sounded confident. But you couldn’t even bring yourself to politely agree. You thanked him again. You texted Peter back while taking your time walking towards the train station.

“Well, I was at Leo’s,” you reply, “waiting for your amazing apology date.”

Not even a full minute goes by before his caller ID appears on your phone. You answer it out of pure curiosity, too tired to be angry at him anymore or even upset with him. He’s speaking before the phone can even fully reach your ear. Pete’s voice sounds frantic.

“I'm on my way!” He insists, “just give me two minutes and I’ll be there, I swear, (Y/N)!”

“Forget it, Peter,” you hope your voice doesn’t sound as strained as it feels, “I already left. Go back to work.”

“I wasn’t at work, I was…” He doesn’t seem to have a good answer for her, “Just give me two minutes, (Y/N) and I can still make this date happen, I promise!”

“Peter…” You weren’t sure you wanted to go back to the apartment and face the conclusion you were drawing, “all I’ve heard the past month are apologies and promises you don’t keep. It’s exhausting.”

“I know, I know, I’ve been a shit boyfriend but I’ll get it together, I know I will.”

“Even your apologies need apologies,” you sigh, rocks sitting in your chest and making you walk slower, “how many more nights are you going to stand me up this month alone?”

“None!” He insists, “It’s not gonna happen again, ever.”

“Why has it already happened six times then?” You shake your head as you reach the train station, your stomach rumbling as you regret not getting a slice of pizza to go, “and yes, I’ve counted. That’s just this month!”

There’s no immediate response on his end, and the silence makes the rocks in your chest grow to fill your stomach as well. It was like every conversation you had was giving you more reason to believe that suspicion that you wanted to forget about because it made no sense.

In the night air of New York, you can smell pizza and trash trucks littering the street. And somewhere in the distance, the sirens that were always going in this city. You weren’t sure if it was from your end or Peter’s

“(Y/N), when you get home I swear we’ll talk this out,” he finally breaks his stretch of silence, “I’ll be waiting for you, and you can yell at me for however long you need but–”

You close your eyes for a moment and grip the phone, “do not say you need to go.”

“I have to go…dammit,” he mutters the last word to himself, “I’ll meet you at home, (Y/N), I’ll be there and we can work this out.”

You shake your head, watching as a train approaches the boarding area. One that wouldn’t lead you to the apartment but to somewhere else. You step onto the nearly empty car, watching a few people shuffle out and pay you no mind.

“Don’t bother, Peter,” you say, “I’m staying with my parents tonight, okay? So just go back to whatever work is more important than I am.”

★★★★★★

A very common task given to you at work was getting coffee. Usually, it was the first thing you did in the mornings when your boss handed you a company card and a piece of paper with everyone's order on it. Sometimes throughout the day, you would be sent on other various food and drink runs, but only around meal times.

Sitting at your desk, you were looking over the files on your computer that contained a few of the articles being pitched to your boss that afternoon. Your task was the weed out the “boring” ones by trying to decide what he would deem boring in the first place. You weren’t expecting any kind of task before the meeting, so all of your attention was on the article on your screen.

“(Y/N)!” You jump nearly out of your desk chair when your boss yells your name from across the room, “We need a coffee run before this meeting!”

Your boss was not a man of patience, so you had a few seconds before he got annoyed with your lack of movement. Closing the tab on your computer, you grab a piece of loose paper and a pen and start across the room of office cubicles towards him.

“Your usual, sir?” You ask him in the fake professional voice you’d taken to using with him.

He nods his head and holds up the silver credit card for office expenses, “Yes, and an iced chai for Martha when she gets here, and a vanilla latte with soy for Marcus.”

You scribble down the other orders as you nod your head and take the card, “I’m on it, back in a jiff.”

“(Y/N)!” here it came, “can I get a lavender mocha?!”

Everyone would shout orders at you as you left when they heard a coffee run was being called. Normally, you tried to get out of there as quickly as possible before too many orders piled up. Because no one would offer to come with you to help carry them, and you could only carry so many steaming cups before you were destined to spill them on yourself.

The paper is filled before you’re in the elevator anyway, leaving you with 8 orders of coffee. You liked being at work because you hardly had time to think for yourself. Unless you were doing some kind of food or drink run, and then you had entirely too much time to yourself. And right now, you didn’t want to spend too much time in your head.

For the past three days, you had been staying overnight at your parent's place in Queens. During the day you would be at your apartment, getting ready for work or making your meals, because you knew Peter would be gone at the lab. You hadn’t come face to face with him since the morning he stood you up for his apology date, and it’s because you couldn't bear to look at him. Just the thought of confronting him with the truth made you nauseous. You weren’t sure you wanted him to say it out loud or not.

Your parents hadn’t minded when you showed up, near tears, telling them that you were at least 80% sure that Peter was cheating on you. They’d offered you their guest room and told you to think about things with a clear head. Your mother had been very adamant that you talk to him first.

But you’d been ignoring his calls and texts like the plague. Partly because you wanted him to know what it felt like to be ignored, and partly because you weren’t sure what you wanted to say to him yet. You knew you would talk to him when you were damn well ready, and you weren’t ready. Not this morning when he sent his usual “good morning” message and asked if you wanted to meet for lunch.

Maybe tonight you would talk to him. You would bite the bullet and get the truth, even if you didn’t like what it was.

As you stand and wait for your two coffee carriers, you look down at your phone and all of Peter’s unanswered texts and voicemails. He was persistent, especially when it came to your relationship. You love that about him.

Peter Parker didn’t do anything half-assed. Everything he did from school to work was 100%, and relationships had never been different. At least not until now. He’d loved you as much as you loved him, you had been sure of that until now. You just didn’t understand when that had changed. What had made him back away from you to the point of forgetting about you multiple times a month?

“(Y/N)!” You hear it called from up ahead. You look up from your phone, wondering if your order was done already. But you see a familiar face walking towards you in a grey sweater vest and a head of thinning brown hair with small glasses.

You smile and turn your body to face him, “Doctor Octavius!” You greet, “it’s been a while!”

“It has,” he agrees as he reaches out to shake your hand, “it’s so funny running into you here. I’m here every day for lunch but we’ve never run into each other.”

You shake your head politely, “this is an odd time for a coffee run for me,” you assure him, “so how are you? Things at the lab doing okay? Peter is so excited to be working with you.”

“And I’m happy to have him,” Dr. Octavius says, “he’s passionate about helping people, that boy,” he then waves a hand through the air to laugh, “if only he could be on time for once in his life! But I’m sure you know all about that.”

You give a pained smile, hoping it looked more real than it felt, “You have no idea,” you agree and then try to forget about the sore subject in your relationship, “but I’m sure he’s making up for it with all the late nights, he’s always thinking about your guys’ projects.”

Dr. Octavius laughs while pushing up his glasses, “Oh, I wish we could do late nights,” he tells you, and your heart begins to pound, “I’m afraid I don’t have the funding to keep workers past normal hours. But that’s not an issue for now, I’m glad Peter has some spare time to spend with you. You two remind me so much of me and my wife when were young…”

His word became muffled. No late nights. He didn’t have the funding for late nights. But Peter had been telling you that he was at work, with Dr. Octavius. He’d been telling you that for months. If he wasn’t there…where had he been going? Why had he been lying to you? What was the point of lying to you?

You’d never been the kind of person to tell Peter what he could and couldn’t do. It was his life, his choices, his spare time. Why did he feel the need to tell he was somewhere when he wasn’t? The weight in your chest stretched down to your stomach, and you wondered if anxiety-vomiting was a real thing. It felt like you were about to find out.

“Order for (Y/N)!” Your name breaks your trance as well as the conversation with Dr. Octavius, who was still speaking despite you not hearing it. You look up at the barista counter, where your 8 drinks are waiting for you to grab them.

“Oh, I’ll let you get back to work,” the doctor says as he hears your name as well, “I hope we run into each other again, (Y/N).”

“Me too, Doctor,” you tell him, hoping it sounded scincere, “good luck with your research, I can’t wait to hear about it!”

The doctor smiles, and he’s about to turn away when he looks back at you, “Oh, and (Y/N), great work on that Oscorp piece last week!”

Any other day, you would be ecstatic that someone had read you piece in the back of the paper and at the bottom of the website. Especially after all the work you put into gathering information on Oscorp’s underhanded carbon emissions from half of their facilities. But you didn’t feel that excitement, you hardly felt anything about it. But you thanked Dr. Octavius and grabbed your row of drinks off the counter.

Your brain was in another world entirely as you balanced everything on your hands. Peter had been lying to you for months. Maybe even longer than that. He was bailing on your dates, leaving you alone in the apartment at night to “work.” Still, you tied to put half of your focus on getting back to work in time for the meeting without spilling anything. You only took your eyes off the coffee to check your footing.

But the streets of New York were never kind, not even to those having a month full of bad days. With your eyes on the coffee, you fail to notice an incoming biker barreling down the sidewalk. There’s a ding of a bell that makes you look up, but it was to late to get out of his way without spilling anything.

What’s one more bad day, You think when you realize your situation, on top of all the others?

Still, you yelp as he barely swerves around you, your foot caught under his thin tire. When you jump from pain, your hands instinctually let go of the coffee trays. The smell of lavender and espresso douse your nice work clothes, and hot liquid burning the exposed skin it touches. You jump back from the biker, who was already whizzing past you and disappearing into the city. The edge of the sidewalk was right there, and your heel is already too close to the edge.

“Whoa! Watch out!” You hear someone calling down at you, but what were you supposed to do? You were already slipping into the road and watching as cars didn't bother to slow down.

There’s a burst of air at your side, a hand on your hip, and your feet are barely picked up off the ground before being sat back down a few feet further into the walkway. You saw the red and blue before you could process the entirety of what had just happened. Spider-Man, the walking legend of the New York streets. He was the small time hero whs ometimes got into big-time fights. Your boss absolutely loved him.

You’d never had a personal enounter with the hero before, and you didn’t think you would ever need to. But you’d heard plenty of stories from other people while working. He was a good man, someone who cared about the people of New York, even the small people like you who didn’t have their names on billboards.

“Are you okay?” He aks you.

His voice was a little distorted when you heard it, robitcally. It must be another way for him to protect his identity, you assume. Maybe his suit was more high tech than people realized. You look over at him, wide eyes, coffee all over you, your skin tinted red from the heat, and you say nothing at first. Taking in the situation. Taking in the information Octavius had given you, and the only conclusion you could draw from it.

Spider-Man tilts his head as he lets go of your waist, “Miss…are you okay? Are you hurt?”

Besides the burning coffee your arms an your throbbing foot, you shake your head. But you could feel the emotions you were pushing down starting to bubble over. A month of ignoring signs that the person you loved more than anything was cheating on you, hoping it was all some big misunderstanding. Your job piling more tasks on you because you could take it, with no breaks and hardly time to eat lunch. You just wanted a pizza night with Peter, with your favorite show and your favorite person right next to you. But he was, clearly, with someone else when he was supposed to be with you.

Your eyes start to burn.

“Okay, good,” Spider-Man says with a nod of hs red and blue mask, “that was almost bad. Do you need smeone to uh…walk you back to wherever you’re going?”

Why did he care? You were fine, just getting more upset by the second. Any minute the dams would burst and you didn’t need a superhero seeing you cry over spilled coffee. So you shake your head again, trying to wipe the coffee from your skin.

“That looks like it hurts,” Spider-Man comments when he sees the light burn on your arms, “we should get some ice on that. That coffee shop should have some,” he points to where you had just come from.

You shake your head again, “I’m fine.”

But even to you your voice sounded thick with emotions he woudln’t understand. Hell, you didn’t even fully understand them. What you understand is that Peter wasn’t going to be who you call anymore after a bad day. You wouldn’t go home to him tonight because he would be gone, tell you it was for work, and then turn his phone upside downwhen he got back.

“Alright miss, if you’re sure,” he says, “but some ice water might make it feel better. I’ve had few coffee burns before too.”

You weren’t sure what the final straw was, but you couldn't stop it anymore. The tears fell, and you drop your head into your hands to block it from anyone who walked by. But nobody in New York cared about people who cried in the street, you knew that. You just didn’t want to be the weirdo on this day who broke down in front of a coffee shop. Keeping you cries as internal as possible, you begin to turn towards the coffee shop once more.

“Whoa,” Spider-Man stops you, “Are you okay? What’s wrong? Why are you crying? It’s just a few cups of coffee, we can order more.”

This stranger sounded so much like Peter in his words that it made you cry a little bit harder. Peter was the go to for any kind of comfort. He spoke so calmly when you were loosing it that if made you feel more in control. You hated it right now because you weren’t in control of anything anymore.

Spider-Man places a covered hand on your shoulder that you’re too upset to brush away.

“It’s everything!” You sniffle on the street, people pushing around you without sparing your emotional break a glance, “I’m gonna be late to the meeting because i have to chage clothes, and now I have to get more coffee, and I think my boyfriend is cheating on me!”

Hearing the words out loud, you cries become harder to muffle and tears begin to fall onto your palms. Peter was cheating on you, you were sure of that. There was nothing else that explained his behavior and lies. Normally you wouldn’t wail about your problem to a stranger, but what could it hurt? It’s not like he knew you or Peter, and he would forget about this in an hour when he was pulling a kitten from a tree.

“Wait, why would you…” his voice sounded hurried at first before he stopped and corrected himself, “um why do you think that, Miss? That your boyfriend is cheating on you? I really doubt that’s the case, I mean I don’t know him but I think that’s way out there to assume, not that I know anything about your relationship–”

“What do you care?” You turn from the super hero and back towards the coffee shop, where you try to swallow down your cries and sniffles long enough to order your coffee for a second time.

★★★★★★

Your boss had not been happy to see you appear in coffee covered clothes with a slight limp. He’d been the slightest bit concerned when he also took note of your red eyes and ruined hair, but then told you to go home and change as quick as humanly possible.

But you didn’t move like you were in a rush. Actually, you drug your feet back to your apartment hoping that Peter would really be at work. You didn’t even want to walk into the home you shared with him knowing that he had been running around with someone else while you were there alone. But you had no where else to go and change that was within a one-train-ride distance.

You unlock the door, eyes still stinging at the corners, your clothes sticking to your body. And there was a slight sting in your skin where the coffee had hit. Maybe Spider-Man had been right about icing it. Maybe a cold shower would make you feel better physically and emotionally, but you doubted it.

You open the front door, dropping your keys in the tray by the door.

“(Y/N)! You’re home!” You nearly jumped out of your skin when Peter’s voice came from the living area, “please, we need to talk!”

You look at him as you shut the door behind you, and you wanted to start crying just seeing him. But you held it in and turned away from him.

“I don’t have time for this, Peter,” you tell him, “I’m late for a meeting and I have to shower before I go back.”

“Please, (Y/N) even just a two minute conversation, I swear,” he pushed, walking after you as you went towards the bedroom where you had a bathroom connected, “you don’t even have to talk, just listen.”

“I don’t have time for this!” You repeat, starting to get irritated in the sadness you felt when he spoke your name. You reach the bedroom and make a beeline for the bathroom, wondering if he would disappear before you got out. He follows you up until you close the bathroom door in his face. Your tears fall again under the cold water, and you hope he can’t hear it.

You showered, changed, and blow dried your hair. Not as quickly as you could’ve, but quick enough for your boss to think you moved as fast as you could. Part of you didn’t even want to go back in, but the other option was staying here and facing the music with your boyfriend.

Who was still there when you opened the bathroom door. Sitting on the bed you two shared. His side was strewn about from sleeping, his pillow crooked, the blanks tossed aside. But your side was untouched, even your half of the blankets pulled up. You were always the one to make the bed. He immediately stands up when he hears the door open, turning towards you.

His normally put together hair was frazzed. He ran his hands through it when he was upset. It was one of his tells when he was nervous and tried to hide it.

“Peter…” you sigh as he gets up to follow you from the bedroom, “please, not now. I have a lot to do at work, and I don’t need to be thinking about this while I’m there.”

“You won’t come home at night,” Peter says behind you as you reach for your shoes by the door. They still had coffee marks on them, “you only come back when you know I’m at work, I don’t know when we’ll be able to talk aside from showing up at your work. Which I have thought about, believe me.”

“Then just wait until I’m ready to talk,” you tell him, “what’s wrong with that option?”

“Because I really want us to go back to normal, (Y/N). I want you to come home, and I want to see you next to me in the mornings, and I want to hear about your day–”

“We can’t go back to normal, Peter,” it looks like you were doing this now. There was no way around it anymore. Part of you was relieved, “not after this. I don’t even think there can be an us to go back to.”

“Please don’t do this, (Y/N),” he pleas, approaching you but keeping enough distance between you that you didn’t feel trapped here, “I know…that…I know you think that I’ve been doing something, I know what you think and you have to know–”

“How would you know what I think, Peter?” You ask him, your throat threatening to close, “you’re not around to hear what I think anymore! You’re never here, you’re running out in the middle of the night, you’re lying about where you are!”

“I know that I’ve made some stupid mistakes this past month,” he insists, “but I can fix it all, I swear, and you’ll never have to deal with those problems again.”

Fix it all. He couldn’t fix this. He couldn’t fix the fact that you didn’t believe a single word he said now. Or that you would always wonder if he was looking at someone else when you went out on dates. But you still looked at him and you loved him because you knew what it felt like to be loved by him at one point. When had that changed? When had he stopped loving you? Was it so quick you only noticed now, or had it been so slowly you hadn’t noticed at all?

“Just…” you inhale deeply and try to keep your breathing steady, “tell me the truth…please. Are you cheating–”

“No,” he shakes his head before the question is even out.

“--on me? Are you seeing someone else?”

“No,” he repeats, “I am not, have never, and will never cheat on you, (Y/N), I promise.”

“I don’t believe your promises anymore, Peter.”

“I love you,” he takes a few steps to close to distance between you two so he’s standing directly in front of you. He reaches down for your shaking hands, like he wanted to steady to flurry of emotions you were feeling, “I love you so much, and that is a promise I have never broken. Why do you think that? Why would you ever think I would chose someone over you?”

You pull your hands away from his, sick at how at ease he could still make you feel when he spoke with such a calm voice. You didn’t want to be calm or sad. You wanted to be angry. But his brown eyes only left you feeling small and defeated.

“What else am I supposed to think?” you shake your head and take a step away from him, “what are my other options? Of course there’s someone else–”

“There’s no one,” he presses, “You’re the only person I’ve ever loved like this.”

“So you leave me at a table by myself at Leos?” You ask with a disbelieving headshake, “and tell me you’re at work when Dr. Octavius says he can’t keep you after hours? If you’re not cheating, Peter, then why all the lies? Give me the truth, or I don’t think I can handle being loved like this anymore.”

He doesn’t say anything. Your shoe are on, youre reaching for the doorhandle, and you don’t think he’s going to stop you. That hurts more than anything. Or mayb all of the hurt was piling up and you didn’t know what was the most painful anymore. You couldn’t look back at him for fear you would crack and beg for an answer.

Your hands on the door handle, you want him to stop you, but you refuse to beg him to choose you.

There’s a thwipp sound behind you, and then something cold has your hand pinned to the doorknob. Unable to turn it. You look down at it, and a pile of white spiderwebs is covered your hand entirely. Looking back at Peter, his hand is out and pointed in your direction. His eyes are wide, like he can’t believe what he’s seeing either.

“I-I’m sorry,” he says and takes his hands through his hair in distress, “I didn’t want you to find out like this, but I couldn’t let you walk away thinking that I had cheated on you.”

Your head was going a mile a minute, probably not even on Earth anymore, and you were staring down at the webs covering your hand. Your first coherent thought was that it was Peter you had cried in front of an hour ago, crying about your cheating boyfriend. The second thought was that this also made sense for all the lies and the leaving.

“I’m not gonna stop you from leaving me,” He’s rambling behind you, “even though I’m ready to get down on my hands and knees and grovel for one more chance, but if you need to walk away from me then please just know the truth when you do it. I love you, (Y/N), and that is the only thing I’m sure is true anymore.”

You sniffle, your tears having run dry, “Peter,” you say in a dull and emotionless voice, “can you come get this shit off my hand so I can go back to work?”

★★★★★★

Needless to say, you didn’t get anything productive done after that encounter with Peter. It wasn’t hard to come to terms with the fact that he wasn’t cheating on you. You’d been looking for a reason to do that for a month now. But the fact that he was Spider-Man?

Your Peter, who hated violence, who was as peaceful as a butterfly, who didn’t even like watching MMA fights, was a crime fighting superhero? With powers? And you’d been living under the same room as him for a year and had never noticed?

Your brain was connecting the pieces of every time thing that had happened. Like when the sink handle had broken off one morning in Peter’s hand when you’d first moved into the apartment. You’d laughed about it, thinking about what a funny stroke of bad luck he’d had. Or when he’d come home bruises along his back and say he’d fallen while trying to get work on time. It had sounded true at the time, but Peter wasn’t the clumsy type. Now you knew why. He was coordinated enough to fight super villains.

None of what you needed to get done happened at work. You could hardly process any words you read, and any conversations went in one ear and out the other. Your boyfriend was Spider-Man, you were still grappling with that revelation by the time you got off.

You decided to go home. Now that you knew Peter wasn’t cheating on you, it felt like you could at least see the place again. However, on your walk to the train station, you were hyper aware of every se of sirens that went off somewhere in the distance. Which was every three seconds in New York, and the worry you felt knowing he could be at any crime scene was arguably as bad as the anxiety you’d felt all day.

Of course you could text him. But after ignoring him for three days, it felt only right to talk in person. You hoped you would be home when you arrived, but if not, you would have to wait. It would give you time to think of what you were going to say. Of how you wanted to go about things now that you knew the truth.

You unlocked the front door with anxiety running through your veins. On the other side, the remains of his webs from earlier were still hanging from the doorknob. He’d cut you free with his house keys, and you’d left before you could see the webs closely. When he wasn’t inside, you looked at them a little closer. They were as thin as real spider webs, but you’d felt how strong they were when holding your hand down. Peter was genius enough to make these himself, that’s for sure.

The apartment was empty. You didn’t hear any sign of Peter. So you place your keys in the tray by the door and take a seat on the couch, letting things slowly settle in your head.

You sent Peter a text, “I’m at home. We should talk.”

You honestly weren’t expecting a reply, so you set your phone down and decide to find something to eat. As you silently open the fridge, your options are slim. There’s one can of Dr. Pepper, left over pasta, and a container of uncooked mushrooms in the drawer. Peter clearly hadn’t been shopping while you were gone. You reach for the left over pasta, figuring it was your only option that required minimal cooking tonight.

“(Y/N),” your name makes you jump a mile in the air, a yelp leaving you. Spinning around, you see Peter.

He’s sitting on the edge of a newly opened window that led to your fire escape. In a familiar red and blue suit with a web design on it. The mask is crumpled in his hand, like he didn’t want you to panic when you saw him. His hair is a frizzed mess, and his eyes are staring at you like he was shocked to find you standing in the kitchen.

“You’re here,” he says as you place a hand on your chest to feel how hard your heart is hammering.

He steps into the living area, and you can see the suit in clear lighting. He came in so easily and with skill. Like he’d done it a million times before.

“That’s how you get in without setting off the alarm?!” You ask him in disbelief.

He looks back at the window for a second, and then back at you, “Yeah,” he confirms, “It doesn’t wake you up, and it’s less stairs.”

“Less stairs,” you repeat and nod your head, setting your cold pasta on the counter, “yeah, makes sense, sure.”

Peter puts the mask on the coffee table beside your phone, “you want to talk?” he asks, as if confirming it was you who sent the text message, “I wasn’t sure you were ever coming back, if I’m honest.”

“Well I did ask for the truth,” you tell him, leaning back against the, “I can’t be mad that I got it.”

There’s silence on his end. Like he wasn’t sure what to say next. But you weren’t either. A few things came to mind, but you didn’t know where to start. So you decided on the first thing that came up when you opened your mouth.

“I’m sorry,” you land on, “for thinking you were cheating.”

Peter looks up, eyes wide, clearly not having expected that, “what? Don’t apologize, I’m supposed to be apologzing.”

“Yeah, well, I figured I owe you one too.”

The space between you two felt like miles, but it was only feet. And the apartment felt cold, like you were both avoiding making the first move. You wanted him back at your side, as close to you as he could be. You wanted to sit on the couch with Peter as your peasonal heated blanket, listening to his heartbeat as you fell asleep.

“I owe you about a million more,” Peter shakes his head and finally breaks the distance separating you two, “I never should’ve even let you begin to think that I would pick someone else over you. I should’ve told you the truth years ago, I should’ve told you the moment I realized I loved you, I’m sorry.”

He’s maybe a foot away. He’d closed the distance up until now, and you decide to close the rest. Your hands reach out, the feeling of the suit alien under your fingers, but his warmth reminds you that its him. Pulling him forward, he practically melts into you as you wrap your arms around him. Burying your face into his neck, feeling his hair between your fingers. It was Peter, your loyal and loving Peter.

Peter holds you back. Now you know that the strength he’s holding back is because he doesn’t want to hurt you. How could Peter ever hurt you? He loved you, and you loved him. After too long thinking that that was a lie, it was a relief to know it was still true. Keeping this kind of secret couldn’t have been easy for him, just as it hadn’t been easy for you to think he was being unfaithful.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You ask him as he leans his body against yours, his face buried in your hair in relief, “it’s been years, Pete, you could’ve trusted me with this…”

He lifts his head, only enough so he could press his forehead to yours, “I do trust you,” he says, “but I also love you more than life itself, so I have to protect you above anything else. There’s a lot of people out there who wanna hurt me, and I will not let them use you to do it. I can’t do that to you.”

“Pete trusting me with something like this isn’t damning me to being a damsel in distress,” you inform him carefully, using your hands to gently swipe his messy hair from his eyes.

The apartment was dimly lit, something you’d always complained about, but you could see his face clear as day as he clung to you in the kitchen light. His brown eyes glossy with tears, the freckles dotting his cheeks that you counted when you couldn’t sleep. You though your knew everything about him, every part of him, but he had been hiding an entirely differen life from you. A life that couldn’t have been easy to shoulder all on his own. You couldn’t bring yourself to be mad at him for hiding from you only to protect you.

“I couldn’t risk it,” he admits, his voice as soft as the light above you, “but I also couldn’t stand the thought of you thinking that I didn’t love you with every cell in my body. I needed you to know the truth even if you still left.”

You shake your head against his, “this isn’t going to drive me away, Pete,” you assure him, palms coming to a rest on his cheeks, “what’ll drive me away is the lies. Promise me no more lies, Pete, please.”

He’s nodding his head before you can even finish the sentence, “No more,” he says, “no more lies or secrets, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.”

You believed him. Not just because you wanted to, but because you could feel that me meant it. Every doubt that you’d had in your head is flooded away as you make the first move to kiss him. His lips were as soft as they always were, his movements just as gentle. He was still your Peter, the same guy you fell in love with over Leo’s pizza. He leans forward, pinning you against the counter so he get a solid grip on your waist.

He hoists you up with one hand, and you can’t help but gasp as he lands your butt on the counter without blinking. He chuckles at your reaction, settling himself between your knees in your shock.

“You’ve been hiding this the whole time?” you ask, now more interested than anything else. You lock your legs around his hips, “Pete, we could’ve been having some real fun with this.”

Peter grins, “Trust me, I know, I’ve had a few dreams about it.”

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s4pphicb1mb0 · 2 months ago

Text

Swept Away - Sevika

Part 3

Warnings: 18+, choking, rough sex, sevika acting like a womanizer, pussy eating, strap on use, overstimulation, cheating etc...

AN: the smutty chapter muehehehe

A few days passed. You decided to extend this trip. You've not been talking to your husband for a few days, fuck him. The beach (beach= Sevika) is much better than him. You and Sevika got close. She taught you a few surfing tricks and the basics of how to float. You called your mom & dad to enjoy the beach. But both of them got seasick. And left two days later. They offered to take your daughter with them.

At first, you were hesitant because you've never been without her, but your mom insisted you needed a break after that fight with Nate, and Coco seemed happy to go to Gramma's house.

And now you were alone.

It gets boring.

But your boredom doesn't last long.

Sevika, of course.

How could she let you be bored?

Sevika is a buff, tall, and tan woman, girls practically throw themselves at her. But why would she go for the easy ones (very womanizer of sevika i know) when she could have the prize. The golden badge of honour. A married mom of a 4-year-old girl. She could tell everyone how she scored you, how she seduced you and lured you.

But you were harder than she thought. She could tell you were stubborn. Your husband was an asshole, yet you were determined to stick to the good housewife image, and sevika’s only goal was to ruin it.

To ruin you

So now here you are. Sunburnt, or rather healing from them.

How did you get them? Sevika pulled you out of bed straight up while you were asleep, refused to put you down, and threw you into the cold, salty water at 9 a.m.

You were depressed and mulling over Coco leaving, and well, Sevika only knew tough love.

You then got busy chasing Sevika around for payback and got sunburnt.

You were in a cotton shirt, with a towel wrapped tightly around your waist, because any other item of clothing was too harsh on your skin. You were sitting on the couch, watching some local soap opera, the fan was on and was creaking and squeaking as it was spinning. Sevika was out on the beach surfing with the boys, who actually were not as big of dicks they were when you first met them. All of them fell in the 16-20 age range. You didn't want to entertain their ideas of you having chances with them. You confronted them, and they backed off (well, sevika MADE them). Now they bring you milk or the newspaper in the morning, and set up your spot with an umbrella and towel laid out, oh and of course they're your personal waiters too.

You insisted that Sevika sleep in the room next to yours because it was scary being alone on the ground floor. She gladly obliged. But jesus fuck.

She's loud.

You can hear her snoring (wait what did you think?) loudly in her sleep. It's impossible to sleep. So you started eating dinner early and getting into bed before Sevika returned home from the beach.

Sevika is confused. Why are you avoiding her? Was she doing something that you didn't like? Did she cross a boundary? But then you acted normal during the daytime, but you were actively avoiding her at night. Was she making you feel too objectified or unsafe?

Today, you took a nap in the afternoon, which made you lose your sleep for the night. You were tossing and turning in bed. You heard the door open and heavy footsteps on the floor. Sevikas home. Forget sleeping.

You peek through the hallway and see Sevika silently eating dinner on a plate, sitting alone at the table with slumped shoulders. It hits you—this is how she's been eating alone all those days? Guilt gnaws at you as you slowly step out of the room and walk over to her.

“Heyyyy…” you say, unsure and awkward.

“Oh… you’re up?” She looks you up and down, wary of your approach.

“Yup, I took a nap, and now I can’t sleep,” you reply.

“Huh… that explains it.” She watches your movements as you sit down across from her.

“Listen, I just—”

“Is there something—” you both start at the same time.

“You first—” you both say in unison. Sevika smiles and gestures at you, “Ladies first,” which earns you a slight snort. But you speak first anyway.

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry…”

“For what?” She raises an eyebrow and looks at you.

“Oh, you know, I was… sleeping early and avoiding you, and you had to eat dinner alone.”

“…” She stays silent, continuing to eat before she speaks up again.

“Why were you avoiding me?” she asks without making eye contact.

“Huh?”

“Don't play dumb, doll… you've clearly been avoiding me,” she says with a tired huff. Just get it over with.

“No offense, but…” Sevika braces for whatever you’re about to say.

“Sev… you snore too loudly. I just— I can't sleep, and I tend to get into bed early before you do. I’m sorry, that was rude. I know, but seeing you eat alone today made me feel really bad.”

Sevika’s eyes widened. That’s it? Is that the problem? Jesus Christ. She assumed much worse.

“Good god, I'm so offended that you don't find my melodic breathing pleasant. I thought I was the next Oprah,” she says with a chuckle.

“Oprah? She doesn't sing,” you say, confused about how Oprah is mentioned

“Yes she doesn't, there's a whole ass genre after Oprah's singing” she says.

“OHHH, you mean opera?” you chuckle and inquire.

“Yeah, yeah, same thing,” she says and looks away, embarrassed by her slip-up.

You laugh, and she joins in, too.

Eventually, this turns to you venting about your husband with your head on her lap while you both relax on the couch.

You both fall asleep peacefully, not bothering to switch to a more comfortable place.

“HOOOLY SHITTT, YOOOO STEVEN, COME LOOK.”

“OHMYGOD COACH SEVIKA IS SUS”

The first thing you hear as you wake up. Your eyes open, and you see two boys, Steven and Jack, standing in the doorway with their hands on their mouths. It takes a while to register that you are asleep in Sevika's embrace.

When it hits you, you aggressively shake Sevika and get out of her arms, and Sevika wakes up and looks around, puzzled.

“Huh?” her groggy voice choked out.

The boys give each other a look and laugh.

“You two- better not open your mouths or I swear-” but sevika cuts you off.

“Hey hey hey what's the matter what happened?” Sevika asks, sitting up as she gains some consciousness

“SEVIKA, ARE YOU KIDDING ME? OH GOD. Wait. It's nothing. It's nothing. Yeah, yeah, we were talking last night and fell asleep on each other. What's the big deal? Have you both never seen friends? Are you that scared of being vulnerable with your friends, HUH?! Well, bad news, NO, NO good news. Sevika and I are healthy friends, so do not come at me with that ‘sus’ or whatever.” You rant and rave and pace around the room in circles. The boys shut up and just look at you, amused. Sevika rolls her eyes but lets you go on.

You huff and sit down.

“Boys, today is Sunday. What are you doing here?” Sevika asks them

“Well, we are hosting a bonfire tonight. we wanted to ask if you guys wanna come?” Jack tells you.

“Aight, we'll be there. Now go on, let me rest on Sunday at least.” She dismisses them and turns to you.

She smirks and looks you up & down.

“You don't mind sleeping on me, huh?” she says, pulling you on her lap, making you gasp.

“Sevika- put me- what are you doing?” But you don't struggle or anything.

“Just what I've wanted to do all these days.” Her eyes lock onto your lips, and her hand tightens around your waist.

Your heart skips a beat, you sort of know what is about to happen, and your voice trembles a bit as you speak. “Oh? And what's that?” you ask, and sevika chuckles.

“This,” she whispered before leaning in and placing a soft kiss on your lips. She presses her knee to your core, making you gasp, and she takes the opportunity to push her tongue in, claiming your mouth completely.

“Sevika….” you whisper, pulling away a bit to breathe

She pulls away but doesn't lose her grip on you

“Yeah?” she asks, her voice low and husky

Your hand drops from being wrapped around her neck; you didn't even realize when you did that, and they drop down to her biceps, and you look up at her.

“This is crazy,” you whisper

She grins

“I know,” before pulling you into a kiss again. Then she gets up and looks down at you, bamboozled on the couch.

“You have horrible morning breath,” she says

“What!? No, I didn't- and despite that, you kissed me,” you scoff

Sevika gris again

“You loved it, didn't you?”

“Shut up.” You cross your arms and look away

“Oh, you freak”, she says as she starts walking away

“Wait, where are you going?” you ask her. She can't just kiss you like that and leave you.

Later, at the bonfire. You were sitting on a log next to Sevika, the waves crashed in the distance, and it was fairly cool outside even with the bonfire. The boys and sevika laughed and talked, but you didn't participate much, just enjoying the ambience. Then Jake brings up how he saw you both earlier, and Sevika speaks up.

“Well, what can I say? This one's hard to resist and easy to score,” she says with a smug tone, and wraps an arm around you and pulls you close.

Something about being called ‘easy’ didn't sit well with you

The night goes on, the boys leave, and you and Sevika are picking up the empty soda cans and cleaning up. Then you bring it up,

“Hey Sev, what did you mean by calling me easy?” you ask

Sevika smirks. "What about it? You're an easy score. I knew you'd come around eventually."

Your eyes flash with anger. "Excuse me? Easy score? You think I'm just some kind of conquest for you?"

Sevika shrugs, "Well, aren't you? You're attracted to me, and I'm not exactly known for my subtlety."

Your face reddens. "You're so UGH!, Sevika. You think you can just waltz in here and call me easy like a whore!?"

Sevika raises an eyebrow, "Whore? Maybe. But you're fuckable. And I'm not afraid to say it."

Your anger boils over, "How dare you! You think you can just reduce me to some kind of...of...fucking prostitute?"

Sevika steps closer, her voice low and husky, "Oh, you. I think you'd love being my plaything. And I'd love playing with you."

You stood up, your eyes blazing with anger. "I've had enough of your games, Sevika." You stormed off toward the beach house, leaving Sevika sitting alone by the bonfire.

Sevika watched you go, a sly smile spreading across her face. She got up and followed you, her footsteps quiet on the sand.

You didn't notice Sevika behind you until you reached the beach house. You spun around, your eyes flashing with anger. "What do you want, Sevika?"

Sevika held up her hands. "Hey, I just wanted to apologize. I didn't mean to push your buttons."

You crossed your arms. "Save it, Sevika. I'm not buying it."

Sevika took a step closer, her eyes locked onto yours. "Come on, you. Don't be like that. I know you're attracted to me."

Your face reddened. "That's not the point."

Sevika took another step closer, her voice low and husky, "Oh, I think that's exactly the point. You want me. And I want you.”

You shook your head. "No, Sevika. I don't want you."

Sevika's smile never wavered. "Don't lie, you. I can see it in your eyes. You're dying to give in to your desires."

Your eyes flashed with anger, "You're cocky, Sevika. You're so fucking cocky."

Sevika's eyes glinted with amusement. "Maybe. But I know what you want, you. And I'm going to give it to you."

Your face twisted in anger. "No, you're not."

Sevika's smile never wavered, "Oh, yes. I am."

And with that, Sevika reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair out of your face. Your eyes flashed with anger, but Sevika just smiled, her eyes locked onto yours...

She picks you up bridal style, carries you to your room, and throws you on your bed.

“Tell me if you wanna stop. Safeword is marmite ‘kay?” she says and wraps her hand around your throat and squeezes and pulls your head closer.

“Jesus fuck, ive been waiting to get inside you” she says and kisses you roughly.

You let out a whimper, which fuels her further.

She takes off her pants and, in a frenzy, tosses them away to some corner of the room, revealing the strap-on she'd been wearing.

“Y-you had that all along?” you ask.

“Fuck yeah, i was just waiting pretty girl, gosh youre so….fuck” she rasps out and spreads your legs and leans down and kisses down from your stomach.

She reaches the elastic of your panties and dogs her teeth into it and tears it off, the elastic digging into your skin a little painfully before the cool breeze hits your cunt.

She takes a long whiff and presses her tongue and takes a good hard lick and digs into it like her last meal.

Your brain has gone completely numb, you can only whimper, whine, writhe, and dig your hands into the bedsheets. She reaches for your outstretched hands and brings them behind your back and keeps them there, the other hand gripping your hip as she ravages you completely.

“FUCK FUCK….MmMh god” you rasp out struggling to catch a brak.

She can feel you are close, her attention goe to your clit as she gives you a few licks and as soon as you're about to release, she pulls away.

“Not so fucking quick baby” she grunts and slaps your pussy with her strap on and rubs t between your folds. She does this a few times before pushing all the way in, making you cry out loudly.

“This is a beach cottage baby, no ones gonna hear you, fuck…..youre perfect” she pounds into you and you feel the silicon kiss your womb. She presses down onto your lower stomach, making you grunt loudly and arch your back. She pins both your arms above you and aggressively pounds like there's no tomorrow.

You swear she could get you pregnant with like 100 babies.

With the way she was thrusting into you and her lewd moans and grunts made your eyes roll back. She then releases your hands and holds them together with one, and the other one goes to your throat as she tightens her grip, and you can tell she's close by the way she's getting off with the pleasure of seeing you wrecked.

“Fuck..gonna….mmh-...such a pretty pussy, all mine, all mine to fuck and use. That useless dick you call a husband could never take you so well” she grunts into your ears, her drool dripping on your earlobe, making it tickle.

“Sev…Sev,” you cry out.

“Gonna cum? Gonna cum over my dick?” she asks, not stopping the assault on your pussy

“Yes…yes please,” you cry out, but she doesn't stop.

“Go on, cum for me baby” she says as her thrusts turn deep and slow

You release and you swear your whole soul left your body, you tremble and your pussy spasms around her faux cock. She pulls out but the way your pussy was sucking her in, she had to do it slowly. She pulls out with an obscene squelching sound before she laps up at your juices; even that felt heavenly.

“Fuck so delicious” she says before giving your pussy a kiss and lays on top of you, squishing you down beneath her musculr frame. You huff and bury your face in her neck and wrap your arms around her waist.

She then gets off from on top of you and pulls you in like her little spoon. You pull the sheets over yourself and her and fall asleep after an exhausting day.

This was the best sleep of your life.

divider by: @anitalenia

tags : @djstinkyfartz @sevikalover824 @daughterofthemoons-stuff

comment to be added to the taglist

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eli0004 · 1 year ago

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Thinking about University AU with Eren x his friend’s hot older sister.

⚠️ nsfw warning ⚠️

Implied age gap, but Eren is 21 and reader is only older by 2-3 years.

You two meet when he’s on spring break. You and a couple of your friends are doing a bonfire on the beach. It’s supposed to be a small thing, to hang out and smoke and have some drinks, listen to music to kick off the start of warmer weather.

Your younger brother Jean asks if he could come and bring a couple of his buddies. You say yes, assuming it will actually only be a few.

It was more than a few. Actually “a few” would be the biggest understatement of the year. Needless to say, you were pissed.

It turns out, Jean intended for in to be just him and 5 of his friends. One of those friends, none other than Eren Jeager, happened to text some of his friends, who texted their friends, and so on.

You’re standing by the fire, yelling at Jean for fucking up your function, while he’s trying to explain what happened, but you’re not having it.

Jean stomps off to go find Eren, and tells him he needs to come apologize to his sister because she’s pissed and now he won’t be able to smoke anymore since she supplies him. His broke ass can’t afford the good weed she’s got.

Eren’s like “woah man…don’t worry, I’ve got this.”

But when he walks over and sees you standing there, he loses his footing in the sand and trips over his flip flop, stumbling to the side like an idiot, and he realizes he absolutely does not got this.

How has he never noticed what a great body you have? Was your hair always this perfect? Why are you so hot when you’re angry?

When he approaches you, you raise an eyebrow at him, and he scratches the back of his neck.

“Hey, you’re Jean’s sister, right?” He glances to the side, scanning for him. You nod.

“Yeah, and what about it?” You ask, rolling your eyes at the question. You’re used to your little brother’s dumb friends trying to hit on you by now.

“Erm…I just wanna apologize for inviting so many people. I didn’t think they would all show up…and uh- please don’t take weed privileges away from Jean.”

You can’t help but laugh at that last part, finding it endearing that he was stumbling through an apology to save his friends ass, when you didn’t even expect to even get a “sorry”.

“Whatever man” you shrug, slowly turning away with a smile and waving him off. “I’m gonna go get a White Claw”

Since then, Eren couldn’t get you off his mind. He knew it was stupid, it’s not like you two had a moment or something back there, but it was just something about the way you looked at him after he apologized.

The next time you see each other is on Jeans birthday. Your parents are hosting a dinner party for him, family and a few of his friends.

Eren happens to be there, and they’re all downstairs in the basement playing pool.

You’d be lying to yourself if you said you hadn’t thought Eren was cute. The whole night you’d been smiling and throwing looks at him.

Then, you happen to be walking to your bedroom as Eren is exiting the bathroom, bumping into each other. He stumbles back in the dark hallway.

“Shit, sorry” he reaches out to steady you. “Are you ok?”

“Better than i was a second a go” you grin, eyes twinkling. Eren’s brain just kinda…goes blank.

…

About 20 minutes goes by and you’re sucking him off against the door of the bathroom you two are locked in. One of his hands is tangled in your hair, the other is gripping the granite countertop like his life depends on it.

He doesn’t dare look down or he knows he’ll cum too quick. You’re older, more experienced, and it’s obvious you know what you’re doing. He’s never had a blow job like this in his life.

He feels like his soul is leaving his body, head thrown back against the door as he lets out soft whimpers between heavy pants. He knows he can’t be loud, but you coerce the sounds out of him with every slurp around his cock.

The fact that he’s getting blown off on his best friends birthday by his big sister is something he doesn’t know whether to be turned on by or ashamed of himself, but he’s filthy and he doesn’t care.

His abs tense and his hips buck slightly as he feels himself getting dangerously close.

“Fuck, fuck i’m close..I’m gonna cum.” He hisses, trying to pull back on your hair so you don’t have to swallow.

But you push his hips back against the door and move your head faster, hollowing your cheeks. His legs nearly give out underneath him as he cums hard, spilling into your mouth.

When you stand up, look him in the eyes and swallow, wipe your mouth with your sleeve and push him aside, leaving him there with his dick out and soft, he knows he’s in love. Perhaps obsessed is a better word, but Eren is a hopeless romantic. He’d rather call it love, if love feels as invigorating as your mouth all over him.

#attack on titan #aot #aot smut #aot x reader #aot headcanons #aot x y/n #eren yeager smut #eren jeager x reader #eren jeager smut #eren smut #eren aot #eren x you #eren x reader #eren jaeger #eren yeager #eren x y/n #sub!eren #sub!eren jeager

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fryingpan1234567 · 1 year ago

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listen I knowwww Roach should be British. he was on a British task force. he’s got the flag on his uniforms. but when @fixfoxnox said southerner Roach I just couldn’t not love him okay leave me alone

anyways. southerner Roach shenanigans

(I guess you could call this a Something in the Orange fanfic since he’s besties with Jackson in this scenario as well as dating Ghost and Soap……… but it’s general enough it’s probably fine ANYWAYS)

Roach’s accent, while it normally only lightly flavors a few of his words, gets considerably thicker when he’s visiting home

I mean like he does the thing southerners do where they somehow mash entire sentences into one word and the others are just like “……….what” but Jackson is nodding like he understood

Like. They’re all at dinner together somewhere. Somebody brings up the rodeo at the state fair. The Europeans have no idea what they’re talking about. Roach just goes “y’ain’tneverheardadat??” and Soap nearly has a stroke trying to figure out what he meant but Jackson continues to eat soundly like he didn’t hear anything wrong

COWBOY👏 HAT👏 RULE👏

HELP

No no no they go to some random dive bar for one of their birthdays. It doesn’t matter whose. Jackson and Roach both have cowboy hats because OBVIOUSLY and like. They exchange this look that the others can’t figure out whenever one of their boyfriends steals their hat via flirting

(They tell them later and then can’t stop laughing while Soap and Ghost and Gaz are just sitting there like uh oh)

After that the hat stealing is very much purposeful

Square dancing to fucking Timber by Kesha and Pitbull in said dive bar because that’s just required idk what to tell you

Soap and Ghost seeing Roach ride a horse for the first time and visibly bluescreen

Roach recognizing people from high school in his hometown even tho he hasn’t seen them in like 20 years

He likes Taylor Swift but only her old country-adjacent stuff

Ghost and Soap couldn’t figure out his aversion to any kind of substitute milk until he took them home and they found out it’s because he grew up drinking milk that literally came from the cows he has in his backyard. They own two cows. And a few chickens. Very resourceful

Jackson and Roach dragging the 141 to Roach’s family’s Super Bowl party one year because in the southern states it’s a huge fucking deal

The Europeans being like “………this is quite possibly one of the dumbest things I’ve ever seen in my life” but their boys are having fun so it’s okay

God help the rest of them. Jackson and Roach are rooting for opposite teams.

There’s screaming, there’s wrestling on the living room floor, there’s spilling food and beer everywhere. The amount of rubbing it in after a touchdown lands is fucking crazy, and they’ve shouted about stabbing each other every single time

Eventually, maybe with a bit of googling, the others get into it. Soap hasn’t stopped shoving Mrs. Roach’s buffalo chicken dip in his face since he’d discovered it when they’d arrived, and Ghost was letting the kids use his tattoo like a coloring page while he chatted with Roach’s dad and brothers. Gaz kept getting elbowed in the ribs whenever Roach and Jackson tousled on the couch, and a couple times he was asked to hold Jackson’s beer so “I can kick some sense into this dipshit,” usually followed by Roach’s maniacal cackling. Price was banging around in the kitchen with Mrs. Roach. Nobody knew how he’d gotten dragged into that, but he seemed to be enjoying himself

On the topic of bringing the boys home to the fam oh my GODS thanksgiving

Ghost is not a dessert person. He’s never been a dessert person. But he had four slices of Mr. Roach’s apple pie, so,,,,,,,,, apparently he is actually a dessert person

Obvi Roach is good with all guns, but he was hunting with his dad and brothers by the time he was like six. He knows how to work a shotgun like he breathes

(Ahem being southern is why he’s so fucking stubborn btw if anyone was wondering)

Roach and Jackson both are religious Dolly Parton listeners

“DID U GUYS KNOW SHE WROTE JOLENE AND I WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU ON THE SAME DAY—“

Ghost and Soap wake up one night because there’s a weird noise outside. They poke Roach awake like “???? what was that??” and he was just like “oh yeah the woods make noises sometimes. don’t worry about it. if something actually wanted to kill you, you wouldn’t hear it coming” and promptly passed back out

“Yea I’ve seen a skinwalker before” “FYM YOU’VE S E E N O N E ? “ “It was in my backyard?? Relax it just wanted the coyote that always tries to kill our chickens. I didn’t really mind”

Gaz suggests investigating a weird figure he saw in the woods. Roach laughs out loud and Jackson smacks him in the back of the head like “that’s how you fucking die you idiot”

“Y’all’re lucky we’re here to stop you from doing somethin’ stupid. Fuckin’ city slickers” “What did you just call me”

The deafening sounds of crickets and locusts puts Roach to sleep almost instantly every night. Ghost barely sleeps every time they visit.

”IT IS SO FUCKING LOUD IF ONE MORE BLOODY CRICKET—“ “Simon not everyone needs literal dead silence to sleep—“

No matter how many pillows he stacks on top of his head he can’t escape it

Oh. Oh. The Europeans CANNOT do southern heat. They’re passed out on the porch while Jackson and Roach and Roach’s brothers play football in the front yard

Roach makes killer lemonade and iced tea nobody talk to me

He has a rusty blue ancient pickup that he says is his baby. One of the wheels is misshapen and the bed squeaks dangerously every time they hit a pothole, but he won’t get rid of it EVER

Roach introduces Soap and Ghost to catching fireflies in jars with his nieces and nephews. They are. So in love with the concept.

It gets turned into a competition, because of course it does, and it looked like Ghost was going to win— but then the youngest of the participating children silently held up a jar that was too bright to look at and audibly buzzing from the amount of bugs inside of it. They cut their losses and embrace the fact that they’ll never be That Good

Southern👏 sunsets👏 there ain’t nothing like it

Soap has a sketchbook dedicated entirely to doodling Roach doing farm things

Roach had a horse he took care of in high school. Her name was Peaches and he literally cried when he found pictures of her in his room

Ghost LOVES the sweet old border collie Roach’s parents have. That dog has seen many a stampede, and he’s herded just as many. What a man. Ghost does not leave him alone Ever

gods fuck me bro I could literally talk about southern Roach F O R E V E R (idk if you can tell from the long ass post Jesus Christ)

good morning/ night/ 4am lmk if you want more of this

#cod #tf141 #simon ghost riley #gary roach sanderson #john soap mactavish #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #paul jackson #something in the orange #kind of #soapghostroach #ghostsoaproach #southerner roach

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ncity-agere · 5 days ago

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(sfw) how you spend easter sunday with stray kids:

sorry, this is really bad! i wanted to make something kinda cute for today… happy easter for those who celebrate! i grew up religious, so this is based on kiddie activities i did when i was younger!!

Bang Chan: Chan wakes up early and tells you to put on your best, most prettiest outfit because today’s a special day. He’ll help you change if you need help and will even tie your bows and button your buttons (but you’ve got to remember your manners and say “thank you”, okay?). He’s going to try his hardest not to work too hard today and if he’s got to go into the studio for the day, he’s bringing you with him.

And when you both return, he’ll try his hand at cooking Easter dinner too! Though, if he messes up then… takeout, anyone?

☆ If you’re religious at all, he’ll probably come up with a clever little craft activity for you both to do (like those little resurrection bread-thingies where the Peeps marshmallow disappears and represents Jesus? yeah, that).

Lee Know: Minho’s been placing plastic eggs all over the house after you went to bed last night, but didn’t tell you. So, when you find one of the hidden eggs and come running to find him, he can’t hide his smile.

“Whatcha got there, baby?” He asks, watching you waddle up to him with a yellow egg in your hands.

“Egg!” You cheer, giggling a little bit. “Egg! Foun’ egg!” Minho nods and holds your hands, pressing your thumbs against the plastic line on the egg.

He smiles. “Very good! There’s something in there, go ahead and open it.” His voice is soft and as you gasp and open the egg to find a piece of chocolate inside. You’re absolutely beaming and he wishes he could take a photo of this moment to have and hold forever.

Changbin: “Easter Bunny!” You giggle, tugging on Changbin’s pajama shirt as he walks around and gets ready for the day. He’s just woken up and completely forgot it was Easter, so imagine his surprise when you start asking him where he hid the eggs.

“I don’t have any eggs, y/n.” He tries to explain, but you don’t wanna hear it. If he’s not the Easter Bunny, then why’s he so big and bunny-like? Checkmate.

The both of you spend the day having a picnic in the park, basking in the sunlight, running around, and playing fun games before going back home (and if Binnie hides a few plastic eggs around the house without you noticing, shhh…)

Hyunjin:

☆ He doesn’t care if you’re religious or not, he’s asking you to come to church even if he doesn’t go regularly because it’s a special occasion.

☆ If you’re not religious, he’s bribing you to attend with the promise of ice cream later.

After changing out of your stuffy, formal clothes though, I think Hyunjin would sit down and paint eggs (yes, real breakable eggs) with you outside. He’d take his painting skills really seriously and try his hardest not to get irritated when yours is more scribbly than neat.

And when you’re both done with your eggs, you sit outside do a while together and let them dry. You spend the morning babbling and sitting in the warm grass with him, having a peaceful and blessed Sunday.

Han: Found bunny ears lying around somewhere and somehow convinced you that he is the Easter Bunny and not your caregiver. And goodness gracious, you believe it wholeheartedly. Unfortunately for Jisung, that means piggyback rides, coloring books, and candy and treats all day. Not like he minds, though >:)

(He also probably makes a 4/20 joke this year, but realizes you’re too little to get it and tells you not to worry about it when you ask)

Felix:

☆ If you’re religious, he’s taking you to Sunday service.

Either way, he’s going to have fun when church is over. Dyeing eggs (and getting brightly colored dye all over your fancy clothes… oops!), baking sweets, and reading books together makes this Sunday one of the best days in a while. And who better to spend it with than you’re sweet-as-sugar caregiver?

Seungmin: Just takes it as a lazy day to eat chocolate and stay in. I don’t think he’d really care that it’s Easter, he’s just kind of chilling like it’s any other Sunday.

He might buy you a brand new stuffie as a gift! Maybe like, a bunny rabbit or a ducky or something Easter themed, you know?

I.N: “Hi, sweet baby! Good morning! Do you know what today is?” He asks gently, brushing your hair as your eyes flutter open from a good night of sleep.

You babble and hold onto Jeongin’s face. “Ba!”

He nods. “It’s Easter! Come on, Papa’s gonna doll you up and get you all pretty! Yes, I am!” He cooes, smiling at you and scrunching up his eyes and nose a little.

Even though you’re feeling really, really little today, he’s having fun dressing you up in your Sunday best. It’s like a little fashion show of pastels and ruffles and soft fabrics -what’s there not to love?

☆ If you are religious, Jeongin will remind you every so often what Easter’s really about (but lets you have your fun with eggs and candy as well). You’re too little right now to really understand what’s he’s talking about but you know that it’s good in your heart, so you giggle and nod anyways.

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littleadaline · 1 year ago

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I Didn’t Know Where Else To Go [P.G6]

Warnings: Reader is unwell?? Angsty on the readers side??

Word count: 2.03k

A/N: wrote this while dealing with stomach flu, so it may be inconsistent or unpolished, sorry about it!!

A/N: Ramadan Kareem to all who partake in it!! May this Ramadan heal our hearts and bring our souls some much needed peace xx.

———————————————————

18:00

You had just gotten off the phone with the agency you had landed an internship with. After countless interviews and days of going back and forth to establish a schedule, you had finally received the green light for your internship. Grabbing your cat in your arms, you twirled around, letting a shriek of excitement.

“We did it Lucía!!” The ping of your phone stole your attention. It was Aurora.

[From Roro ✨🌸]:

Any news about the internship? I got a response for mine!

[To Roro ✨🌸]:

OMG RORO I GOT THE INTERNSHIP!! I CAN’T BELIEVE IT 😭 HBUUU?

[From Roro ✨🌸]:

ENHORABUENA AMIGA!! I GOT MINE AS WELL!

[To Roro ✨🌸]:

I’M SO PROUD OF YOU AURORA! I can’t wait for us to celebrate xx Is tonight any good??

[From Roro ✨🌸]:

Me too! Tonight is no good :( How about tomorrow?? I’ll ask Gavi to drop me off after his physiotherapy appointment.

Your face soured at the mention of Pablo. Pablo Páez Gavira was your friend’s little brother, and despite being the same age and having similar interests, you guys hated each other. You were always bickering, exchanging snarky and sarcastic remarks about one another. Pablo’s parents were deranged by their son’s behaviour, but Aurora saw something beyond the sarcasm and lack of agreement. She often teased the two of you, pushing you to at least pretend to like each other.

“If you end up even getting along with each other, you each owe me 20€.”

“Never.” Pablo responded, shooting the basket ball into the net.

19:00

In need to contain your excitement, you put on your shoes and left the house for a walk. Strolling around the neighbourhood, you admired the early sightings of springs; people keeping their windows open, the sound of music escaping onto the streets. The smell of dinner was not unfamiliar to your nose. You realized were near Pablo’s neighbourhood when you heard the ping of your email. The smile you had harboured for the last hour was quickly wiped away as you read the title of the email.

[Termination of your internship]

Dear Y/N Y/LN,

It has been brought to our attention by our hiring committee that it will be impossible for us to accommodate your personal schedule into the internship schedule. As such, due to the late application date and your uncooperative schedule, we are forced to rescind our offer for the internship. We wish you the best in your academic and professional career,

The Agency.

Your eyebrows knitted in confusion. “Uncooperative schedule”? You knew your schedule was rather complicated, but at no point was the hiring committee bothered by it…nor had they said something either. You and the agency knew the weight this internship held for your final project this semester. If you couldn’t land an internship, you wouldn’t be able to hand in a project, and you’d automatically fail the class. Failing the class would mean you wouldn’t obtain your degree and your graduation would be delayed by a year as this class was only given during the winter. Something wet rolled from your cheeks and onto your phone screen. You didn’t know if it was tears or rain. You let your back slide against the street wall, an uneasy feeling taking over. You were hyperventilating, a million thoughts rolling in. Unable to think clearly, you ran to the only address you knew in this neighbourhood. Making it to the front of the house, you pounded at the door.

“Pablo? Pablo are you here? Please! Anyone?” You begged, sliding your body down the door as you cried uncontrollably. Your body was soaked from the rain, shivering as the wet clothes clang to you. 3 minutes had passed before rapid footsteps were heard and the door was opened in a hurry. You didn’t have the time to turn to look at whoever had opened the door before a pair of arms dragged you inside.

“Who’s that?” Pablo’s mom said, running into the entrance, apron still on.

“Y/N, what’s going on? Hey, hey, deep breaths. Look at me.” Aurora said, taking off your coat and shoes. Your chest was falling and rising at an alarming rate. Your sight was hazy as you fought tears.

“She’s freezing.” You felt Pablo’s mom dragging you to the bathroom upstairs, tears still streaming down your face. You were unable to stop. Aurora was behind you, frantically removing your soaked clothes. Pablo was following, still perplexed as to what had brought you to his house.

“I’ve got it from here,” Aurora held her hand in front of Pablo’s face. “Go get some towels and put them in the dryer for 10 minutes. Pablo do as I say or so help me God you won’t live to see another day. Now is not the time for your rivalry.” Aurora scolded her brother.

Pablo bit back his tongue, swallowing the comments he had. He obliged, rapidly jogging to his laundry closet before grabbing his fluffiest towels, and chucking them in the dryer. No matter how far back your rivalry went, he couldn’t help but feel worried about you. Your soaked clothes clinging to you, your face covered in a mixture of rain and tears, your sudden zombie-like state.

“Pablo? The dryer’s been done for 2 minutes now.” His dad’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

He grabbed the towels and ran upstairs before softly knocking on the bathroom door. The door opened slightly, enough for him to peak at your slumped figure on the bathroom floor, still stuck in a zombie-like state. You were left in your bra and underwear as Aurora and her mom worked tirelessly to calm you down. Pablo’s heart broke at the sight of you. He just wanted to take away that pain.

“How’s she-”, he mustered up to say before the door closed back on his face.

“Vale, hija, respira.” Pablo heard his mom softly say from behind the door. Defeated, he walked back to his room and rummaged through his drawers. As fun as the rivalry was, the current sight made him want to burn the entire world. He dug through his clothes until he pulled a matching sweatpants and sweater set. He put the set in a basket, heading to the guest room where he grabbed the fluffy socks he kept. He grabbed those before heading down to his laundry room and putting them in the dryer to warm them up. While waiting for the dryer to finish, he walked back to the kitchen where he poured you a bowl of soup, previously made with care by his mother, and boiled some water for tea. The dryer had been done for a few minutes now when he heard the sound of the bathroom door open. He ran, skipping steps, to hand the clothes to his sister. Aurora took the clothes without hesitation, simply thinking Pablo for his actions. Gavi knew you were soon going to come out of the bathroom, so he left the food and tea on the guest bedside table. Soon enough, Aurora helped you get in bed. You had regained some colour, your hair now clean and in a braid. You were wearing the set Gavi had warmed up, the clothes baggily hanging around your body. Gavi’s inner self breathed a sight of relief seeing you settled in bed, a more peaceful look on your face.

“I’m gonna help mamá clean up the bathroom. Make sure she stays warm and at least drinks the tea or eats the soup.” She patted him on the back before closing the door behind her. Gavi simply nodded, feeling the need for rivalry fading away.

“Vale…” Gavi awkwardly sat on the edge of the bed. “Do you want the tea?”

“Did you poison it Gavira?”

Gavi chuckled, taking your sarcasm as a sign of wellness.

“No, I didn’t. Tea or soup?” He tried to sound annoyed, but his newly found care for you betrayed him.

“Soup smells delicious. I could recognize your mom’s soup from miles away.” You laughed weakly.

Gavi grabbed the tray with the bowl of soup and approached the bed. He sat on the corner before bringing a spoonful to your lips.

“Mhhh…” you moaned in delight. “Gimme more.” You felt your body slowly regaining its strength. You sat up on the bed, Gavi feeding you one more spoonful of soup.

“Y/N, what happened? You had us all scared.” Pablo confessed, setting aside the bowl of soup.

You sighed, debating telling your newfound friend the truth.

“I…um. You know that class Aurora and I are taking? The one where we need to intern with a company related to the theme assigned to us? Well, if we don’t land an interview by the deadline, we automatically fail the class. And up until,” you checked your phone. “2 hours ago, I had an internship. Until I received an email telling me that they had to rescind their internship offer due to schedule issues. And if I don’t pass this class, I have to wait a whole year to retake the class. Which also means my graduation is delayed.”

“I don’t get it… How could they do this?” Gavi angrily asked. “What theme were you assigned?”

“Gavi… I’m not sure you can help in this situation…” Gavi’s eyes pierced through yours, desperately trying to uncover your secret. He had this kindness in his eyes, something you had never noticed before…. Maybe because you were too busy being at each other’s throats.

“What theme were you assigned?” He asked a second time.

“Media in sports…”

“You’re doing it with us and that’s final. I’ll contact the media department first thing in the morning. They don’t have any interns for this term, they should be able to accommodate you. I may have to twist Xavi’s arm for this, and sprinkle in some emotional manipulation, but you know the mister, he can’t say no to these puppy eyes.” He bragged.

Gavi fed you a new spoonful of soup, slowly taking more space on the bed.

“What brought you here?”

You almost chocked on your soup, the brutality of Gavi’s question taking you by surprise.

“Oye Gavira, are you trying to kill me with your brutal questions?” You heard Gavi laugh, something you never dreamed you’d be able to hear coming from him. “Since you want to know, I went on a walk to contain the excitement of the news, and I made it to your neighbourhood when I received the email. I guess my instinct just kicked in, and I ran to your house. I’m sorry, I didn’t know where else to go…” you said, defeated.

You heard Gavi put down the bowl on the tray before he shuffled closer, pulling you into a hug. Shocked, you simply laid there, your arms laid on your side. Your body turned on auto-pilot and you hugged him back. You didn’t know Gavi was capable of such signs of affection, especially not with someone he’s been bickering with for the last decade. On the other side of the interaction, Gavi’s mind was rolling at 200 km/h. *What are you doing cabrón? You’re supposed to hate each other. Let her go! Push her away! Wait, this feels natural, almost meant to be…*

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry this happened to you. Aurora was boasting about how happy she was you obtained the internship with this agency. I can’t imagine how it must feel.” He whispered. You both stayed in a comfortable silence until he spoke up again. “You look tired, do you want me to leave?” He slowly got off the bed, but you pulled him right back down.

“Stay. Your presence is somewhat comforting. I don’t know what your mom put in this soup, Gavira, but it’s making you less… annoying.”You sighed, your eyelids growing heavier by the second. You heard Gavi laugh, a low but subtle chuckle, and smiled to yourself. Gavi was lying on his back, his arms crossed on his chest.

“Can I… Can I lay my head on your chest?” You asked him, your voice growing shy at the request.

Gavi was slightly taken aback, but nonetheless nodded, his heart fluttering at the thought of you being so close to him. He heard the sheets shuffle before he felt your head snuggle in on his chest. He swore right away in this moment that he was done with the animosity, the backbiting, the jokes. He was going to let you in. He was going to properly love you. He was going to cherish you. And in that split second, he realized he owed Aurora 20€, not that he minded anymore.

“Sleep tight nena.” Gavi’s hand found your hair, slowly stroking it.

#fc barcelona #pablo gavi #gavi x yn #gavi one shot #gavi imagine #gavi x reader #pedri #ferran torres #fermin lopez #la masia #Barcelona #gavi

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rolfedewolfefan16 · 2 months ago

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Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing:

VILLAIN ROLFE AU OFFICIAL STORY

Chapter 1: “And you better stay out of here! I don’t want you in this house ever again!” Shouted his mother, as she grabbed him by the collar and threw him out the door along with a suitcase.

“I won’t! You’ll see, one day I’m gonna be rich and famous and I won't need your help!” Rolfe shouted back.

Rolfe always knew he wouldn’t stay in that house for long. Ever since his father got murdered, Rolfe’s family went into deep financial troubles leading to his older brother, Raul, to be the man of the house. Raul being 8 years older than Rolfe he thought of himself responsible for everything that went on at home. Raul took a habit of selling newspapers in the mornings, heading to school for a good 5 hours before leaving early to wash cars all afternoon. Rolfe took the role of cleaning shoes.

Raul would constantly give him a slap across the head for “not gaining enough money”. They’re mother worked as a waitress and would bring leftovers for dinner. The family of 3 had a system so it all seemed to work out. Raul was forced to grow up early and Rolfe never had a childhood. One day while cleaning shoes, Rolfe spotted a puppeteer out in the streets. He watched a crowd of smiling children and elderly couples gather around and laugh, tipping the man handsomely for his performance.

Suddenly Rolfe had an idea. He raced home and took a pair of old socks out of a drawer. He stuck googly eyes on them, drew on some mouths and stuck bunches of yarn on their heads. He took it upon himself to name them Sam and Sally. Now, everyday, Rolfe would come home and practice skits with them. In no time he took his acts to the streets.

“Knock Knock!” He made Sally ask.

“Who’s there?” asked Sam.

“Says,” said Sally.

“Says who?” Sam asked.

“Says me, moron!” Sally yelled. There was a good amount of laughter from the small crowd.

“Here ya go kid,” A middle aged man said, handing Rolfe a 20 dollar bill. Rolfe couldn’t believe it! With that amount of money he could easily buy more supplies for his puppets. But his moment of joy was quickly interrupted by a demanding voice.

“Rolfe! What the hell are you doing here!?” Raul asked, storming angrily towards him.

“Raul! Nothing I was just-” Rolfe began. Raul reached out and snatched one of his sock puppets.

“What is this?! Are you…doing gigs?” Raul asked.

“Is that why you're not bringing in enough money home!?” Raul snapped. He snatched the 20 dollar bill out of Rolfe’s hand.

“Hey, that’s mine!” Rolfe whined. Raul held the money up, far from Rolfe’s reach.

“Nah, I think it's better if I hold on to this. As for you, just you WAIT till we get home!” Raul snarled. He grabbed Rolfe by the wrist and dragged him along the sidewalk. Once they arrived, Raul threw Rolfe in the middle of the living room and began to scold him.

“What the hell is wrong with you!?” Raul shrieked.

“I just wanted to…I don’t know what I was thinking,” Rolfe sobbed.

“I’ll tell ya what you wanted. You wanted to make a fool of yourself and dishonor your family! Don’t you realize that without Dad we’re broke? Do you even have the slightest ounce of empathy towards mom?! Mom busts her back working day and night for us to have something to eat, I work my ass out and sacrifice my education for us to afford rent and buy clothes and drink water, and you, who’s only responsibility is to clean shoes, CLEAN SHOES! Can’t even do that without messing things up!” Raul screamed. Rolfe whimpered.

“I’m sorry Raul. But I’m only 8. I can’t do as much work as you can,” Rolfe explained. Raul scoffed.

“Oh yeah? Well I was only 11 when Dad died, and I had to sacrifice everything just to take care of you and mom! I’ve been working everyday since, so don’t you start complaining because I’ve given you everything, Rolfe!” Raul hollered. Rolfe sniffled.

“I just… I want to be a ventriloquist, Raul. It's my dream,” Rolfe blurted out. He quickly shut up as soon as Raul gave him a look of disbelief.

“Are you kidding me!? What didn’t you understand!? Your stupid dreams shouldn’t be an excuse to neglect this family! God you are so stupid! You wanna know something, Dad probably wouldn’t be dead if you were never born! All you’ve done was make my life and mom’s life harder! If you weren’t sick, Dad wouldn’t have had to come home early from the studio! That gang that murdered him wouldn’t have spotted him! Hell, we’d probably be rich right now! You're a walking mistake, Rolfe,” Raul roared, slapping him across the face with angry tears. Rolfe was now on the ground, weeping.

“ I HATE YOU!” Rolfe screamed! Raul grabbed him by the arm.

“Don’t you talk to me about hate, you little shit! Now go to your room and think about what you’ve done! And by tomorrow I expect all the money you owe us on the table!”

“What!? But where am I going to get all that money from?” Rolfe asked, wiping heavy tears off his face.

“Figure it out! And you better not use those ridiculous puppets to gain money, because that ain’t work!” Raul screamed. Rolfe slammed his door and began to cry. Rolfe knew it was wrong but perhaps the whole puppet thing could work after all. Rolfe took a notebook and began to write down his ideas. The following days, Rolfe has gained a handsome amount of money, sparing some for himself secretly, and handing the rest to his mother. Raul became jealous of Rolfe’s success, growing suspicious of his sudden luck. Rolfe kept his puppeteering acts a secret for years. Rolfe has managed to hide his hand made puppets in an old floor board and performed in various places like schools and hospitals.

“It’s Rolfe! It’s Rolfe!” Some kids cheered. Rolfe has become great friends with the many sick patients and insisted he’d do the acts for free but got paid anyway. Part of Rolfe liked the attention and the money, the other part felt guilty because he was still abandoning his duty for the sake of his potential career. But in his mind he thought it was fine as long as it got money on the table. Rolfe began to notice another thing. Rolfe’s mother would use the money to buy alcohol, cigarettes and pills. Rolfe tried his best to dump them all but his mother would storm around the house, looking for them in an anxious manner and throwing tantrums. His mother also stopped working all together and stayed at home sleeping while Raul took on a mechanics job. There was a lot of negative tension between them now, so Rolfe didn’t bother staying home much and instead spent his days at puppeteering or going to dance clubs to entertain himself.

“Hey! This is my favorite song! Wanna dance?” A hound asked Rolfe as she put her arms around his neck. Rolfe shoved her slightly.

“I’m not really in the mood…” He said, taking small sips of alcohol from a cup. The hound frowned.

“Oh, alright then. Are you okay?” She asked. Rolfe shrugged.

“There’s a lot of things going on right now at home and my brother is– Oh my god! My brother! He should be home by now! I’m going to get in so much trouble. I have to go!” Rolfe said, tossing the cup and struggling to grab his things. Before the hound could say anything else, Rolfe dashed past her and ran home. Rolfe found a pounding on his chest. His lungs burned and his legs felt heavy.

“Please don’t be here. Please don’t be here!” He begged racing to his house. But as soon as he saw his brother’s car he knew it was too late. Rolfe spoke a silent prayer and walked inside. He could hear Raul yelling at his mother.

“Where the hell is Rolfe!? He asked. She slurred her words.

“I don’t know…who’s Ralph” she spat.

“Damn you, you stupid bitch! You’re so drunk you can’t even remember who your own son is!” He snarled. He turned to look at Rolfe with vicious eyes.

“You! Where were you!?” Raul stopped short when he saw a puppet on Rolfe’s hand.

“You’re d…this whole time…the money you’ve brought home was because of-that?” Raul asked, a look of shock coating his face. Rolfe took a painful gulp and backed up.

“You sore gyp!” Raul yelled. Raul was about to hit Rolfe but Rolfe grabbed his fist.

“ I did what I could for this family! It’s not my fault that our sot of a mother chooses to stay home! And unlike you, Raul, I have a life and I choose to be the person I sought to be rather than stay in this dump of a house any longer!” Rolfe growled. Rolfe's mother got up and ran towards him and pushed him.

“How dare you abandon me, WolfMan!?” She cried, shaking Rolfe by his shirt tightly.

“Mom…my name’s Rolfe. It's me, your son or tell me, do you not remember who I am?” Rolfe asked, appalled.

“I- I don’t remember!” She sobbed, falling to her knees and crying. Rolfe gave Raul a worried look.

“I tried…to stop her from taking them…” He admitted, looking down shamefully. Rolfe managed to collect himself and walked to his room.

“Where are you going!?” His mother screamed. Rolfe darted her a look of surprise.

“To my room. I’m going to pack a bag and stay at a hotel until this mess sorts itself out,I’ve had it!” he bickered. She ran up the stairs and grabbed him by the ears.

“You ain’t leaving me! Not again! You have a family! How could you abandon your own wife!?” She squawked, drooling everywhere.

“For the last time, I’m not him! Let go of me!” Rolfe demanded.

“Fine then!” She said, She got his suitcase, threw whatever clothes he had laying around and dragged him down stairs.

“Wait, my puppets!” Rolfe exclaimed, trying to go back up stairs.

“You don’t need no damn puppets!” She scolded, taking the one he had in hand and ripping it to pieces. Rolfe let out a gasp and jumped at her.

“You witch! You ruined my life!” Rolfe snarled. Raul pulled them apart and opened the front door. Rolfe’s mother threw Rolfe out along with his suitcase.

“GET OUT!!!” She screeched….and that was how Rolfe got kicked out. Rolfe was now homeless, friendless and pretty much broke. What was he going to do, now?

#showbiz #rolfe dewolfe #rock afire explosion #villian au #alternate universe #short story

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chvoswxtch · 1 year ago

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Hi,

I had a request… I’m currently obsessed with Frank Castle (he’s just so 🥵) and had an idea, it’s not super original so I understand if you don’t want to write it!

A non-binary (they/she) character who is plus-sized and younger than him (in their mid-20s) taking him home to meet her family for the holidays. And she is very insecure and worried about how their family will react. Maybe while there, a family member says something hateful about her weight and/or being non-binary, and Frank goes to comfort/reassure her, and maybe even gets mad and defends her to her family?

Can be smut or just fluff (or both!)

I just thought it would be cute to see his more protective/caring side, mixed with his possessive and angry side. I love that dynamic (:

hello my love!

so i'm not sure if you've watched the bear (i'm still working through it myself) but there's a scene where jon flips a table and goes on a rampage and I just thought that was super fitting for this prompt so I drew a lot of inspiration from that & I hope you enjoy!

I also hope you're having a wonderful day or night wherever you are and that the holidays are being kind to you 🖤

warning: swearing, frank being frank word count: 1.5k

dessert.

It was so quiet in the cab of Frank’s truck, you swore you could almost hear the delicate noise of fresh snowflakes carelessly colliding with the windshield over the dull roar of the heat coming through the vents. The holidays were always a complicated time for you with your family. In the earlier months of the year, there was a welcoming sense of freedom to be exactly who you were without judgment. But when the colder weather started to seep in, so did the impending dread. All you had wanted to do was introduce your family to the man you had fallen in love with, and celebrate your first holiday together in a special way. You had anticipated a little bit of uncomfortable tension, prepared yourself for a few tasteless passive aggressive comments, but you didn’t think it would be this bad.

Bringing Frank home to meet your family hadn’t been the mistake. It was underestimating his protective nature and forgetting the caliber of his restless temper.

Things had already been off to a rocky start as soon as you walked through the door. Everyone’s eyes seemed to be shamelessly sticking to the way your outfit clung to the soft and full curves of your figure. The same outfit that had Frank nearly pulling over to the side of the road impatiently because he couldn’t keep his eyes ahead was currently the topic being whispered about by your aunts. However their attention was quickly stolen as soon as Frank walked in behind you. Their hushed gossip rang loudly in your ears, causing the confidence Frank had built up within you to fizzle out into insecure embers.

He’s so…normal looking. What’s he doing with her?

She’s not a her, remember? She’s…oh I forget what it’s called. Another complicated thing these kids have come up with. I swear it’s something new everyday. I can’t keep up.

He seems much too old for her, and look how fit he is. They seem way too different, there’s no way they’re actually dating.

It only got progressively worse from there. By the time everyone sat down to have dinner, it was like you weren’t even there. Everyone asked Frank a million and one questions, but no one asked you a single thing. No one asked how you were, or how the new job was going that you were so excited about. No one asked how you and Frank met, or how long you had been dating for. Everyone seemed to be trying to figure out the puzzle of what Frank was doing here with you, and eventually, you found yourself trying to solve that exact same riddle. It was almost incredible how your family managed to ruin all the trust and love that the two of you had built up over the past few months. All the promises of reassurance that flowed so easily from his lips seemed to vanish from your memory, and the quieter you got, the angrier Frank became.

He was polite at first, answering the simple questions with appropriate responses, but the more they tried to exclude you from the conversation, the more he tried to aggressively incorporate you into it. His frustration was evident in the way his voice became more rough and coarse, a detail only you were able to pick up on. That should’ve been the first warning bell in your head. But you were so wrapped up in your own insecurities that it didn’t occur to you to reach for his hand under the table to calm him like you normally did when he got worked up. Frank was doing his best to contain his rage at the way your family treated you, but one hateful comment from your alcoholic of an uncle about your weight caused him to erupt.

It all happened so fast, that you were stunned. Your uncle was in the middle of following up his weight comment with an insult about your non-binary identity when Frank suddenly stood and flipped the table out of his way so he could rush forward and strike his fist across your uncle's face. In a split second, everything had descended into chaos. Your mom and aunts were screaming, your father and uncles were trying to pull Frank off your drunk uncle, but they weren’t a match for his strength and tenacity. It wasn’t until you fought your way through them and tugged at Frank’s shirt in a panic that he finally relented and let you drag him out of the house.

For the past fifteen minutes, the two of you had been sitting in his truck where it was parked in front of your family’s house, both of you attempting to calm down. Frank was trying to quell his anger while you were coming down from the shock of what had just happened. The longer you sat in silence watching the waves of snowflakes caress the glass of the windshield, the more uneasy Frank became. Letting out a deep exhale through his large nose, he finally couldn’t take the quiet anymore.

“Look I…I didn’t…m’sorry, alright? Can you just…will you please say somethin’?”

“I can’t believe you flipped a table.”

Frank blinked in dumbfoundment a few times, his dark brows pinching together in the center of his forehead. He was expecting you to yell, to go off on him, maybe even break up with him right then and there, but not to hear you sound so amused about his explosive behavior.

“Huh?”

“That was ‘real housewives’ of you.”

When you finally turned to face him, he noticed the faint smirk on your lips, and that one little gesture eased all the anxiety that had been building up within him for the past fifteen minutes. He let out a puff of air through his lips, looking ahead as he shook his head slowly and glanced at his side mirror while trying to fight the crooked grin that threatened to spill across his lips.

“Yeah well, dinner was dull. Thought I’d spice it up a bit.”

“I’d say you spiced it up a lot.”

Frank turned his head to look over at you, and you could see a faint apologetic twinkle in his eye from the glow of the street lamp above.

“You mad?”

It was your turn to look at him in dumbfoundment. Arching one of your brows, you let out a soft laugh while tilting your head to the side in slight curiosity.

“Am I mad that you stuck up for me?”

“I coulda handled it better.”

Scooting over to the middle seat of the cab, you brought your hand up to gently caress his jaw while staring into his warm brown eyes with a soft smile.

“No Frankie, I’m not mad. I promise.”

Leaning in, you pressed your lips to his in a gentle kiss, letting him feel the sincerity behind your words. You weren’t mad at all. No one had ever been so protective or defensive of you before, and while some would’ve thought his reaction was a little extreme, you knew it was just Frank’s way of showing you how much he loved and cared about you.

“Thank you.”

“For ruinin’ the holidays with your family?”

“Baby, they were ruined before we even got here. And honestly, this is the best holiday season I’ve ever had, thanks to you. You made it special for me. It was probably a bad idea to come here, but I just wanted to show you off. Show them all how happy I was. I thought they would be happy for me-”

“Hey, to hell with ‘em. They don’t deserve to see that pretty smile after the way they treated you. That asshole’s lucky I don’t go back in there-”

“Frank.”

Letting out a soft laugh, you redirected his angry glare from your family’s house back towards you as you pulled him in for another soft kiss.

“Let’s just go home. We can order something in.”

Frank took one last irritated look at your family’s house, letting out a soft grunt of disapproval.

“Goddamn chicken was dry anyway.”

For some reason the frustration coveting his sharp features and the grumpy tone of his voice just made you laugh. Giving his thigh a gentle squeeze, you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek and smiled adoringly at him.

“We can have something else for dinner.”

Frank turned his head to look at you, his gaze wandering slowly up and down your figure before settling on your eyes once more. The ravenous look reflected back at you simultaneously sent a shiver down your spine and filled your lower half with a sense of heat. He reached out to place one of his large hands on your thigh, giving it a firm squeeze as his voice dropped to a husky whisper.

“Think I’m ready for dessert, sweetheart.”

tags: @day-dreaming-goddess @kdogreads @heimtathurs @mars-rants-a-lot @casa-boiardi @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @hazallem @avencol @neverlandcity @charmedkim @queenofthenoobs @stilldreaming666 @mattymurdock1021 @bubuslutty @ninejlovebot @purrrfect @pennylovey @firesunflamed @oscarisaacsleftknee @ameliaswife @vane28282 @kmc1989 @messymissy @dark-academia-slut @strawberry1042 @utterlynuts

#frank castle #frank castle x you #frank castle x reader #frank castle x nonbinary!reader #frank castle x nb!reader #frank castle fic #the punisher #the punisher request #the punisher fic

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aclowntiny · 2 years ago

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🎉Your Birthday With Seventeen🎉

A little special post I wanted to make for my special day! Where my fellow 10/20 babies at 😎 (Warnings: a few make suggestive implications because I think some members would be more inclined towards certain birthday ‘celebrations’ 👀😅 Also 노래방 = karaoke btw!)

S.Coups

He isn’t the type to surprise you- instead he tells you to get ready for a great day! He takes you shopping first, letting you fill your bag to your heart’s content and practically stopping you from putting anything down unless you insist you don’t actually want it. Books, clothes, collectibles, you name your favorite, Seungcheol buys you plenty more for your collection. You basically live out the Anakin and Padme meme when you ask that this is your gift, right? Nope, that’s the matching jewelry sets he got you because you said you’d wanted couple items! Since you guys spent the afternoon out anyway, it’s easy for the day to melt into a dinner together, the two of you holding hands across the table and reminiscing on memories that led to your latest year of life. Seungcheol wants to ring in your next year right, even if it means staying up all night!

Jeonghan

The party can be later- this day is all about keeping you to himself! Jeonghan can hardly keep his hands off you as he brings you to the living room where lights and blankets are all set up, all of your favorite movies laid out for your choice. You grin, but before you can sit down and get wrapped up he presents you with the beautiful bouquet he bought you, some of the most gorgeous flowers you’ve ever seen. Some extra decor, he explains to you with a satisfied grin that only grows wider as you pull him in for a kiss. Then it’s finally movie time, all your favorites and if they’re movies that make you cry, tissues at the ready on the coffee table. You better believe Jeonghan got you the cutest cake he could find for later in the day, one perfectly sized for the two of you since the next day you’ll have the big party cake! The cake is practically the one thing that distracts him from holding and doting on you to your heart’s content, hehe~

Joshua

Decides to throw you a surprise party just to see the look on your face when you walk in! He tells you where to come meet him to celebrate together, completely omitting the fact that all his bandmates and every friend or family of yours he could get over will also be there. In typical fashion, everyone exclaims ‘surprise!’ the moment you set foot in the room, and even if it gives you a heart attack at first you can’t help but beam at the effort Joshua put in to decorate the room, coordinate with everybody, and get your favorite snacks and meal to lay out for the party- all for you! You immediately pull him into your arms and thank him for going to the trouble, trouble he reminds you again and again was worth it. Just to hit home how thoughtful your gentleman is, he gifts you a matching bracelet alongside that one thing you’ve been hinting about wanting for a couple weeks!

Jun

Did somebody say themed party? Because Mr. Wen Junhui did! All of Seventeen’s antics over the years have taught him a thing or two about sticking with a concept and he can’t help but laugh at the mental image of you walking in on him and your friends dressed to match your favorite show or movie. Ok, not full cosplay, but something you’ll be sure to recognize from his clothes. He gets a cake with your favorite characters frosted on it and a plushie of something cute from it to have hold your flowers! The way the rest of Seventeen play along at his behest is heartwarming too, most of the members trying their best to be in character and do bits you’d recognize, all of performance line especially hamming it up for you! You get the most memorable pictures from it, especially when someone gets a piece of cake smashed in their face! All in all, you and Jun are laughing all night, your head falling to his shoulder and his hand taking yours and occasionally bringing it to his lips.

Hoshi

The moment he sees you you’re getting wrapped up in his arms, tumbled around or falling backwards if you’re on or over your bed or couch or spun in the air if you’re standing. His hand closes around yours and then you’re off, getting led on an adventure. Not a second is going to go by without love and fun, whether you guys are checking out the art popup that coincided with your special day or when you hit the slick track where he might just let you win because you’re cute! Soonyoung keeps talking about how your next anniversary or birthday you guys should go skydiving, only coming back down to earth from his reverie if you’re really scared by the idea! After a wonderful dinner, you two rent out a 노래방 and belt to your hearts’ content, swaying with arms around each other and singing a ballad as goody as you can together then getting completely sidetracked in the middle of the next song because you’ve started making out. Soonyoung is so the type to make sure you know that it’s your special day and you get him all to yourself allll day if you’d like 😘

Wonwoo

During the day, you guys can do whatever, but at night? It’s Wonwoo’s plan and he’s spoiling you! He got reservations to one of the nicest restaurants in the area and a new outfit for you to dress up with him- one that perfectly matches his suit, in fact. No expense is spared, candles faintly illuminate the table and you get everything you want to try even if you protest that it’s too much. Not today, Wonwoo reminds you. Normally your boyfriend isn’t one for PDA, but since it’s a special occasion he’s feeling the merriment, eyes extra loving as he gazes into your eyes, leans forward to press the occasional kiss to your cheeks. Beneath the table, his hand finds its way to your knee, idly tracing patterns as you enjoy the fine dinner and dessert. Wonwoo also has a gift waiting for you because, in his words, you’re a gift to him! But that you’ll have to wait until you get home for because it’s a two-part gift- one a bit more for him and one for you since he bought you a game you said you’d like to play together, but also got something you’d had your eye on for some time to make up for any bias in the first one!

Woozi

On your birthday, he wants to wake up next to you, so you stay together the night before- however that looks to you 😉 He doesn’t want to wake you, you look so beautiful even resting, but finally your eyelashes flutter as you wake, smiling at the sight of him and the way he tells you happy birthday in a low voice. He does all the things you normally do for him, gestures like getting breakfast ready and making the bed. There’s something symbolic, poetic even, about being in nature on a day of birth, so he’s keen on taking a walk or even a hike if you’re down to just admire any leaves or blossoms that are out or what endures strongly if it’s winter, comparing those things to you. Jihoon just can’t help himself, singing softly to you as you walk hand-in-hand, his eyes never leaving you. He tells you again and again what you mean to him as someone who lights him up after a long day, takes care of him and encourages him, and earnestly wishes his gifts to you will reflect that. It takes him by surprise when you pull him in for a kiss beneath one of the largest trees, but you can feel his little gape melt into a smile against your lips.

It’s going to be a party all day! Seokmin plans the cutest day, taking you to the amusement park and taking literally every photo op he can. Backgrounds, photo booths, props, even paying for overpriced ride photos. Why, though? Because part of your gift is an adorable, sticker-laden scrapbook of your days together that fills your heart with joy just to look at! Next step is going out with friends for dinner, drinks, cake, the works. It’s a whirlwind of thrill rides, merry-go-rounds, and songs sung with all your favorite people, and all spent in your boyfriend’s loving arms, his smile wide and proud of one of the most wonderful additions to his life so far. Even at the end of it all, you can see how glad he is to have you back one on one because he’d been feeling a bit too shy to give you your big birthday kiss in front of everyone ❤️

Mingyu

Mingyu CANNOT STOP taking pictures of you all throughout the day, just giving you heart eyes at everything you do during your little day on the town. He tells you he can see why that outfit is your favorite, it looks so amazing on you. This guy is also soooo the type to take you all around and make sure to get a few smooches in when people are looking, too- that’s right, you’re his person! Cannot go .01 seconds without telling someone it’s your birthday so they congratulate you, whether it’s a waiter or the person ringing you up for the jewelry he buys you or who he gave the phone to to get a picture of you together. He just chuckles and pulls you in close if the attention embarrasses you, telling you with excitement that it’s your special day, so everyone should be celebrating you! But, he’s quick to remind you, none of them are going to celebrate you quite like he is later 😁

The8

He wants to start the day with you at sunrise, unless you really protest that you are not a morning person! On your birthday morning, you won’t have to lift a finger: Minghao is making you breakfast and tea, draping you in a cozy robe to come sit outside and enjoy it together beneath the rising sun. As you’re sitting there, he tells you all the things he appreciates most about you and wishes upon you for your new year. After that, he draws a bath for you guys before you get ready to tackle the day- whatever you would like that to look like. At the end of it all, he presents you with your birthday cake and gifts, your favorite of which is a gorgeous painting he made and framed just for you! He knows your favorite colors, subjects, what would match your home, and so he nails it. Speaking of nails, he practically has to physically restrain you from breaking out a hammer to hang it up right then and there, telling you in that soothing, seductive voice not now, love, tomorrow. We have plenty else we can do to enjoy your birthday tonight, right? You pout a little at that and all he can do is giggle and kiss you.

Seungkwan

He’s been hyping up your special day now for a while, hinting at a trip, so when you wake up the first thing out of his mouth beside ‘happy birthday’ is encouraging you to pack with wide eyes glittering full of excitement. Your destination, you learn, is Jeju, both of you having been missing the sea and yearning for a break from the city scene. Seungkwan knows all the best places to eat, the most beautiful spots to take pictures and see the water, so every moment takes your breath away, not to mention how sweetly he holds and caresses your hands and how passionate every kiss he gives you is. You stay the night right on the water, no expense spared even toward your night on the island together, however you’d like to spend it 😘

Vernon

Texts you or wakes you up at midnight if you’re together to give you wishes for the day the moment it starts and not a minute sooner. Since it’s your day, he really wants to take care of you, so you find Vernon being a lot more doting than usual, putting music on and taking the initiative to care for you in the bath or shower and do your hair. If you like painting your nails, he does yours and even lets you do his because hey, it’s your birthday what the heck? What a good excuse to have you be holding hands longer. You lay against his chest as he reads to you to while the afternoon away before your evening dinner and movie night, a classic date ending in a late-night drive where he pulls a cake out, lighting a candle for it and sharing it with you beneath the stars. His gift to you is a new pair of headphones, the best he could find, one of those necklaces with the position of the stars on the day you met, and roses cast in resin so they’ll never die, just like his love for you.

Dino

This man is going to whisk you away on a whole birthday trip, like you’ll practically have to stop him from buying plane tickets to fly you guys to Paris. In order to maintain some semblance of practicality, you talk him down to a getaway somewhere more accessible like a road trip or island feery. Wherever that lands, Chan walks you around with an arm around you, showing you off with a proud grin. Every ounce of his demeanor and high head says ‘look at my beautiful significant other’. He’s going to take you out for nice meals and dance with you on a bridge in the dim of night and put just a few too many candles on your blazing cake, making you laugh and capturing that photo before the one of you blowing them out with a wish in your heart and love at your side.

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floralcyanide · 2 years ago

Text

˚₊✩‧₊◜kinktober 2023! ―

― day six ⛧ degradation

Sub!Jonathan Crane x Dom!Reader

Jonathan is starting to think he's on his high horse too much. He smarts off at you, making a big mistake. You take advantage of degrading and belittling Jonathan, and his ego is brought down to shallow depths.

warnings: smut, degradation, spitting, finger sucking, insults, dom/sub, sex toys, anal sex, anal fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), face-riding, cum eating, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, touchless orgasm

word count: 2208

author's note: yayaayay day six!! I love writing sub men especially sub jonathan ugh. please. my weakness. anyway, I hope everyone enjoys (; remember to read the warnings carefully before proceeding. (:

kinktober masterpost | kinktober taglist form | main masterlist | main taglist form

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ��ᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

Jonathan has noticed that lately, he’s been a little snarky and bitchy- more than usual, anyway. He was bratty by nature, but he’s had an ego boost since snagging you. You’re perfect to him, and the fact he has someone as unique as you really gets him going. But it’s starting to exhaust him and cause issues at work, especially with colleagues. And the situation with this Rachel Dawes girl. Jonathan is sure he sent her to her death at the hands of Falcone and realizes that maybe his ego needs to be deflated. Especially if he feels challenged by a 20-something-year-old woman. Being in his thirties, Jonathan clearly knew better, especially as a professional. He brainstorms all day at the asylum, thinking of how to calm himself down and make his ego bruised to bring him down a notch. But he hits a wall, unable to come up with anything worth his time.

When Jonathan gets home, he’s frustrated with himself. He usually has great ideas, especially when it comes to degrading others and making them scared. But he can’t seem to come up with anything for himself. He grumbles as he hangs up his coat, tossing his keys into the dish by the door. He spots you curled up on the couch, reading a book. Jonathan notices the dishes you've yet to do in the sink from last night, and he rolls his eyes.

“I thought you were going to do the dishes today,” he frowns at you.

“Sorry, hon. I got invested in this book and haven’t thought about them,” you say sheepishly, “I’ll pop the dishes in the dishwasher after dinner tonight, okay?”

Jonathan doesn’t say anything and instead sits on the couch on the opposite end of you, flipping open his own book. You stare at him momentarily, waiting for him to say something. When he doesn’t, you clear your throat and resume reading. After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, you finally sigh.

“Are you okay, Jonathan?”

“I am perfectly fine, dear,” he replies exasperatedly, with a hint of sarcasm.

You purse your lips, becoming slightly impatient with him.

“You don’t seem fine, but alright.”

Jonathan looks over at you with a sassy look on his face before he turns back to his book. You raise an eyebrow.

“Did I do something to piss you off, mister brat?” you ask snarkily, closing your book and crossing your arms.

“Of course not,” Jonathan says, more sarcastic this time.

You huff, snatching his book from his hands and slamming it onto the coffee table.

“Watch your attitude,” you say blatantly.

“Or what?” Jonathan scoffs, yanking his book back with an attitude in his movements, “You won’t do anything.”

“Says who?” you chuckle darkly, crawling onto Jonathan’s lap and straddling his hips.

“Says me,” Jonathan gives you a closed-lip smile, “Now hop off. I’m trying to read.”

You scoff, tossing his book on the side of the couch where you were previously sitting, “How about you lose your attitude?”

“Or what?” Jonathan asks sassily, tilting his head.

You reach a hand up and grip his throat, your thumb and fingers pressing into the sides of his neck as you lean close to his face, “Or I’ll fucking make you.”

Jonathan gulps, unsure of how to react. You’ve never taken control before. You have a dominant side to your personality, but you’ve never dominated him sexually. Maybe Jonathan being dominated would knock him down a peg?

“Oh really?” Jonathan breathes, “You won’t.”

You growl, shoving two fingers from your other hand into his mouth, squeezing his neck a little harsher to prove your point, “Shut up, little boy. You’re nothing but a brat, you know that?”

Jonathan says nothing and willingly takes your fingers into his mouth, sucking and licking around them with doe eyes. You thrust your fingers in and out of his mouth, glaring at him as he hollows his cheeks, the sound of him suckling your digits a delight to your ears.

“Now, be a good boy and lay on the couch, then take off your pants and underwear. I’ll be right back. Don’t touch yourself,” you threaten, climbing off Jonathan’s lap.

Jonathan nods, scrambling to lie on the couch, moving his book. You hurry upstairs to grab something and return to the living room. Jonathan is lying on the sofa, his legs spread to reveal his hardened cock and his plump balls to you. You smirk as you put your toy on the coffee table, Jonathan’s eyes widening a little at the item. You resume your place on his lap, opting to sit on his bare, milky thighs. You give his cock a few pumps, spreading the leaking precum around his tip.

“So worked up from just me shutting you up, huh?”

“Sure, we’ll go with that,” Jonathan gives you a closed-lip smile, and you lightly slap him across the face.

“Don’t be rude,” you scold, “Or I won’t touch you at all.”

“No,” Jonathan says quickly, “Please touch me.”

“Why should I? What do you have to gain from it, hmm?” you slow your pace of moving your hand along his shaft.

“Because I’ve been bad,” Jonathan says bashfully.

“You’ve been a little bitch is what you’ve been,” you chuckle, “And little bitches get fucked until they learn their lesson.”

Jonathan gulps as you reach for your vibrator and sit it beside you, planning on using it later. You trace Jonathan’s face with a light finger before moving it to his lips, prodding them open to put your fingers back inside his mouth.

“Suck. And get as much spit on them as you can,” you demand, pumping Jonathan’s cock faster with your hand tight around his length.

Jonathan nods vigorously, lapping his tongue around your digits and coating them with his spit. But it’s not enough.

“Open your mouth,” you say, removing your fingers.

Jonathan obeys, and you gather your own spit in your mouth before you spit it onto Jonathan’s tongue. He twitches in surprise but graciously accepts your saliva before you shove your hand back to his lips, letting him cover it in your added spit.

“Good boy,” you whisper in awe at the sight of him closing his eyes as he bobs his head along your fingers.

You climb off his legs, shimmy off your shorts and underwear, and sit back down on his pelvis. Nudging one of Jonathan’s legs off the couch, you push his leg up and outward, “Grab your thigh, Jonny. And hold it open for me, okay?”

Jonathan follows your instructions, and you rub your clit to make yourself a little wetter in order to take him without a hitch. You grab his length and guide it into you as you lift your hips, moving them to suck him in to the hilt. You moan at the feeling of Jonathan filling you up, and you start riding him slowly. Spit still on your fingers, you circle Jonathan’s entrance slowly and daringly, turning around to gauge his reaction. His eyes are fluttered shut, his mouth agape as he breathes heavily. You circle his puckered hole faster, teasing it with the tip of your finger. Gently, you coax his asshole open with your index finger, pushing it in very slowly. Jonathan whimpers from behind you as you continue to slowly bounce on his cock. With your free hand, you massage his balls as your finger sinks deeper inside him. He squirms slightly, letting himself clench around your finger.

“Taking my finger like such a good boy,” you praise, “Can you take another?”

Jonathan mewls, “Give me a second,” he gasps as you hook your finger slightly.

“Take your time,” you say sweetly, stretching him softly with your digit, pushing it in and out of him.

Jonathan moans as you fuck him harder with your soaked cunt, slowly entering another spit-coated finger into his tight ass. You manage to push it all the way in after a few moments, Jonathan a mess underneath you as his hips stutter.

“So good,” you say, pussy clenching at the sight of Jonathan taking your fingers so well, “Finally shut you up, hmm?”

Jonathan moans in response, and you slowly hook your fingers inside him, scissoring your digits apart to stretch him out. Your boyfriend whines under you, his cock twitching pitifully inside your cunt. Grabbing the vibrator from next to you, you stick it in your mouth and suck it, letting your saliva coat it graciously. Pulling your fingers from Jonathan, he cries out from the lack of fullness. But you’re quick to press the toy against his hole, pushing it in slowly.

“Fuck,” Jonathan moans pornographically, and you push it further inside until it hits his prostate.

You fuck him with it gently, letting him get used to it before turning the vibrator on. Jonathan yelps, his hips bucking into you harshly. Rocking your hips at a quicker pace, the sensation of the vibrator filling him up, as well as you fucking yourself on his cock, sends Jonathan reeling. He’s an absolute mess beneath you, wishing he had kept his sassy mouth shut because of the overwhelming feeling of pleasure. But also, Jonathan doesn’t regret the dramatic death of his ego right now. In fact, he’s relishing it.

“How does it feel to be fucked by me?” you ask, breathless as you watch the vibrator go in and out of Jonathan’s tight hole, “To be humiliated and used like a little slut?”

“S’ good,” Jonathan manages to make out, bearing his hips down on the toy as you fuck him with it with vigor.

You turn up the vibration setting two notches, and Jonathan twitches inside you, cumming hard and suddenly. His cum paints your puffy walls, filling you up. You turn off the vibrator and remove it from Jonathan, and he groans at the loss.

“Bad, bad, bad,” you shake your head, tutting at your boyfriend, “I didn’t say you could cum.”

“I’m sorry,” Jonathan says quietly, tears pricking his eyes from the intense orgasm and the shame of cumming so soon.

“Now, you get the pleasure of me riding your face until I cum. Since I didn’t get to cum around your poor little cock,” you mockingly pout, pulling yourself off him and watching Jonathan’s cum weep from your pussy, “You’re gonna eat your own cum and like it. How does that sound?”

Jonathan wordlessly nods, unable to form a coherent thought in his head at the moment.

“Use your words, Jonny.”

“S-sounds good,” he says meekly.

You slide upward to rest your cunt on Jonathan’s face, and he immediately attaches his mouth to it, lapping up the mixture of your arousal and his cum with his tongue. He circles your clit, suckling on it as you let out a soft moan. You buck your hips to establish a rhythm with Jonathan’s tongue as he fucks it inside you. Jonathan starts to grow hard once more, and you watch as his length becomes slowly erect against his stomach.

“Aw, is Jonny getting hard just from eating pussy? How cute,” you coo, “I bet you’re gonna cum all over yourself like the pitiful thing you are.”

Jonathan moans into you as a bead of precum leaks from his tip. You ride his face faster as the familiar warmth of pleasure spreads throughout your belly. You grasp your breasts, tweaking your nipples as your boyfriend skillfully nibbles your bundle of nerves.

“Just like that, fuck,” you praise, tugging hard at your sensitive buds as your orgasm creeps on you, “Gonna make me cum after all, baby.”

Jonathan hums, the vibration sending you over the edge. You cum all over his face and tongue, and to your surprise, Jonathan’s cock spurts its own hot white load all over his stomach and chest.

“I can't believe you just cum without me even touching you,” you chuckle, “How pathetic.”

You lean over and lick up his mess, playfully licking and biting his hardened nipples before dismounting his face. You take a deep breath before gathering the toy and telling Jonathan you’ll return in a second. When you return to the living room, Jonathan still lies haphazardly on the couch.

“Are you okay?” you ask, picking up your underwear and sliding them back on.

“Yeah,” Jonathan sighs, “I needed that.”

“I can tell,” you smirk, “You’ve been a dick lately.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he says, “I was thinking about it earlier and couldn’t come up with a solution to bring me back to earth. But it seems you came up with a solution on your own.”

“Sure did. Been thinking about doing this for a while anyway.”

“I didn’t know you were into being dominant,” Jonathan raises his eyebrows, and you offer him his underwear to put back on.

“It’s not something I do a lot, but yeah. I think it’s hot,” you grin, sitting on his lap.

Jonathan exhales through his nose, studying your face. He smiles briefly before stroking your cheek, “How about we take a bath and go to bed, hmm?”

“Sounds good,” you say, “Gotta get your bitchy self all clean.”

Jonathan snorts at that. Dinner and the dishes are long forgotten, and a nice, warm bath is drawn.

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