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twixcake · 2 years ago

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"𝕎𝕒𝕟𝕥 𝕥𝕠 𝕤𝕖𝕖 𝕞𝕪 𝕟𝕖𝕨 𝕡𝕚𝕖𝕣𝕔𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤?"

Parings: Sanji, Luffy, Zoro x f!reader ♡

A/N I was talking with my friend about a VCH piercing and now I want one-:( ♡ Don't let me write fanfiction while listening to Lotus Flower Bomb...

⚠️: Cl♡t piercing, N♡pple piercings , praise, degrading, oral, fingering uhhh you name it. Luffy a bit more mature but his character still there!

Spell check: no, might do it later ♡

𝕊𝔸ℕ𝕁𝕀

"My baby! Here you go!!" Sanji appeared behind you with a drink in hand. He stood on one knee as he held the tray up for you to take. "Aww, Sanji that's so sweet of you, what's the flavor today?" You took the drink before giving it a sip. "Oh wow" His eyes sparked when he saw you continue to down the drink. "This is so yummy! What's in it baby?" He smiled at your praise before sitting next to you on the sun chair. "I tried something new!" He said, excitedly. "It's blueberry lemonade with a hint of strawberry!" You hummed before sipping the drink more. "It's delicious, I wouldn't mind trying it again!" He closed his eyes with a smile as you rubbed your fingers under his chin before smooching his cheek. "I'd be happy to pour you another glass, my baby, I made more just in case you liked it!"

"Sure! Just let me finish this glass!" He nodded as he watched you finish the drink before taking it. "Another one coming right up!" You smiled at him before he rushed away to the kitchen. He came back five minutes later holding a very annoyed Luffy and your drink in hand. "Here you go mon doux ange." You thanked him before he went back to scolding the young captain.

The drink was delicious. Just the perfect temperature for this hot sunny day, and just the right mixture of bitter and sweet.

You couldn't lie, you were enjoying it to the point where another cup wasn't sounding that bad.

"LUFFY YOU ALREADY HAD THREE CUPS COME BACK HERE-" You giggle at your boyfriend chase your captain around while you enjoyed your drink.

You still had a bit left in your cup before you felt the cup tilt over as Luffy ran smack dead into you.

"Oh shit!" You grab the cup before more can spill out, but the damage was already done to your shirt.

"DAMN IT LUFFY" You hear your boyfriend groan in annoyance while Luffy runs away. You laugh at the mess before standing up, your boyfriend already by your side. "Are you ok? Any injuries?" He checks your face for any scars while you shake your head. "No it's ok baby,I'm ok…but I should go clean myself up" you down the rest of the drink before placing it on the side table. "I'll help you," he says softly." "Je lui botterai le cul plus tard…" (I'll kick his ass later) He mumbled while you laughed.

"It really was a waste of a good drink though…"

Sanji followed you into your room as you fumble through your clothes. "Nope- It's too hot for that…" you mumbled before pulling out a tank top. "I guess this will do.." you turn back to Sanji before silently cursing."Dammit I forgot Franky and Robin were in showers…I'll have to wait." He shook his head.

"Wait here!" He said, "I'll go get you some napkins"

You sit on your bed patiently before Sanji comes back with a few damp and dry napkins. He leans in front of your legs before gazing up at you, his cheeks a bit pink. "Uhm..is it ok if I can?" You laugh, "Sanji, you're my boyfriend. No need to act so formal, go ahead." He nods as you rub your fingers over his cheek. He lifts your shirt up gently over your chest.

"My angel…"

His eyes grew wide as he was met with your clothed breast. Your piercings poking out underneath the fabric. Juice dripping down your chest onto your stomach..

He lets out a huge gulp. He wanted to stay composed for you. But the sight of your newly pierced nipples almost made him lose control. "My baby, what's this?" His hands shyly snaked their way to your chest while you smiled down at him. "Just got them done…do you like it?" You rub his hair as he lets out a small whimper. "I-i do!"

"O-oh god…." He lifted up your bra as your breast fell out. Your nipples slightly jiggling at the new freedom. He stared at the cute heart chain jewelry before he coughed.

"Y'know…" He gently moved your body over so you laid on the bed. "It would be against my policy to waste food…let me clean you up my angel…"

He leaned down to your chest before he sucked hard on your buds. His fingers playing with the cute chain you bought just for him. You knew he'd love it…but not this much.

"Ah…m'gonna buy you so much pretty jewelry ok?" He mumbled as he licked the spilled juice from your chest. All you could do is bite your lip at the motion. Your buds still sensitive from the piercing.

"O-oh that feels good, sanji…."

He hums around your bud, his finger flicking it occasionally, leaving you arching your back. "C-can I move further?" he panted, almost out of breath as he played with your cute chains. "I need you so bad please…" He humped the bed gently, trying to get some stimulation.

You smile, "of course baby, I need you too"

He removes your skirt and underwear. His cock twitching in his pants as he sees an implant on your underwear.

"Babyyy…" He whines, "Oh god- you-"

His patience grows thin as he tears off your underwear. The chilly air brushing against your heat deliciously as he stares at your cute piercing. He doesn't even ask before his tongue is over your clit. The metal ball merges with his mouth as it gently circles around your clit. He moans softly with you as you grab his hand. "O-oh shit…" His fingers bury themselves into your heat as he fingers you.

"A-ahh~" your back arches as he eats you out. His eyes almost watering at how needy he was. His pants unbearably tight around his cock as when whines against your pussy.

"F-FUCK" you cum around his mouth while he continued to suck hard around your clit. His fingers occasionally coming out to play with the jewelry.

"Again- p-please?….wanna make you cum again angel"

ℤ𝕆ℝ𝕆

"Ok, you agreed to go all out with me" Zoro said, a smirk plastered on his face as he chuckled at your sleepy expression. "You can't back out now" You both were in his crows nest. You should have known agreeing to work out with him was a bad idea...but you wanted to see your boyfriend happy so all you could do was nod.

"You sure you wanna wear all that stuff?" He said, pointing at your hoodie and warm up pants. "We'll be doing a lot, you'll be sweatin, trust me" you shake your head with a whine as you rub your shoulders "It's cold Zoro...couldn't we have done this in the afternoon?" He shook his head and let out a chuckle. "No way! You agreed to my terms, besides" he walked behind you and gave your arms a gentle rub. "You'll warm up soon, trust me." He gave you a small smile, and you couldn't help but return it and nod. "Ok, let's get started..go easy on me!"

You both started slow, Zoro helping you with the basics. Holding your feet down while you did push ups, your lips meeting his each time you sat up. Or how he'd let you sit on his back to get that extra burn he needed while he did a surprising number of push ups.

You had to admit, it was fun.

But you were starting to get hot.

You waved your hand at zoro when he pointed to the weights on the floor. Fanning your hand over your face. He couldn't help but let out a laugh. "See- I told you to take that damn hoodie off!" "Shut up! I get it- just give me a minute ok?"

He gave you a smug grin as you walked over to the side benches, lifting the jug over your body and reliving yourself with the cold water. "Oh god yes..." you said a bit breathless before removing your hoodie. The cool air immediately brushing over your body, giving you more motivation to continue.

You walk back to zoro as he lays on the weight bench. "Think you can spot me?"

You nod and stand over him, his eyes focused on the ceiling as he started to lift the weights.

"Wow Zoro...that's impressive" you praised, as he smiles up at you. "Eh? You think so-" His eyes widened in surprise as his hand almost slips on the weight as his gaze met your chest. Tight sweaty shirt showing off your beautiful figure, and most noticeably your piercings.

"ZORO!" You grab the weight and grab his shoulders. "Are you ok? What happened?" He tried not to stare....he really did. But the way your pierced nipples poked through your soaked shirt only made the buldge in his pants grow more.

"Uhm..." He looked away from your worried gaze. "Let's end it right here ok?" You tilted your head a bit confused before he lifted you over his shoulder. "But zoro-" He ignored you as he climbed down the ladder and into your shared bedroom. He lightly placed you on the bed.

"Zoro! What the hell!? Are you ok??" You looked up to meet his gaze only to be met with a heated face. His hands grasped your sides. "When did you get those?" His fingers traced over your clothed nipples. Chills ran through your body as he stared. "Last week...." you muttered. "Damn it, why'd you wait so long to show me-" He lifted your shirt up, and workout bra before his hands started moving on their own. "Fuck...so beautiful" he squeezed gently around your piercings, the sensation making your back arch a bit. "Mmm- I-I wanted it to be a surprise" You mumbled between pants.

"I...wanna see them while I'm fucking you.." its not like you'd stop him. You nod as you bite your lip, a small smile on your lips as he pulls down your pants and underwear, while one hand stays glued to your tit, rubbing it gently between his hard fingers.

"What the fuck....?" His hand moved away from your nipple and to your legs. You smirk at his awed reaction. He pried your legs open only to be met with a shiny piece of jewelry.

"You're fucking with me.." He mumbled. His hand raises as he gives you a nice smack on your ass. "You kept this from me huh why?" He smirked at you while you gave him an innocent pout.

"Alright, I see how it is..." His finger shoved it's way into your heat making you moan out of shock. His other hand toying around the metal ball making it squish gently against your clit. "Z-zoro please" you bite your lip. "Shut up...you want to hide stuff from me? " He smirked. "Need to be tamed or something?" He mocked before sliding off his pants.

"I'll fuck you until you learn not to keep secrets from me..."

𝕃𝕌𝔽𝔽𝕐

"I got you Luffy.." your arm wraps around Luffy's side as you help your boyfriend out of his bed. His chest still bruised and wounded from his previous fight, but he can't help but give you a warm smile. "Baby! There you are!" He said cheerfully as you helped him off the bed. "Gotta any meat with you?" You roll your eyes and smack his side lightly earning a tiny groan from him. "Is that all you ever think about? YOU'RE LITERALLY WOUNDED-" he pouts. "Fine I'll go get you some meat but then you NEED to take a bath ok? It's been three days, Luffy! I don't want you getting an infection if you have any cuts!" He snickers at your annoyance before crossing his arms. "Fine…but will you come with me?" He gave you a small pout. "Of course, I need to take care of you," you gave a worried expression at his bruises. "I'll wash you ok? I'll go get the meat then we'll go bathe" you both share a smile as he nods.

"OH- BABY-" He yells at you, stopping you from leaving the room. "Bring me some hot sauce too please!!~"

"Oh my god.." you roll your eyes with a cheeky smile before you leave for the kitchen.

"Back" you walk in to your drooling boyfriend. His mouth watering at the sight of the tray of meat. "YAY! THANKS BABY! You're the best-" His hands impatiently stretch out and grab the tray from your hands before he starts gnawing at the bone.

"Holy shit why are you so hungry!" You were surprised to see the bone already. "Sanji just fed you like an hour ago!!" He laughed before taking your hand and standing up.

"You know that won't keep me full!" He patted his stomach. "Alright! Let's go take that bath kay?" You nod as you lead him to the bathroom. You run warm water before seating him in the tub. "Stay here I'll go get the soap…" you walk over to the shelf before grabbing the soap and a towel. You sit on the edge of the tub while Luffy glares playfully at you.

"What?"

"Why am I the only one bathing!??" He frowns before you let out a small chuckle. "Sorry…sorry" You grab your shower cap before placing it on. "I'll join you, captain's orders I guess" you roll your eyes playfully before getting undressed. "Happy?" You sit besides his before he lays his head on your shoulder. "Yeah should have been-" His eyes trail down to your chest as you wash his back gently. Your buds hardened and perked up…but something was different.

His hand lifts up to your chest giving your nipple a soft squeeze.

"Ee- Luffy what are you doing?!?" You almost drop the towel as you stare at your boyfriend.

"These are new!" He gawks at your cute piercings, kind of cringing at the thought of having it done.

"Did it hurt??" "When did you get them done? Can I play with them?"

He doesn't even wait for an answer until you're seated in his lap. His hands pinching and pulling at your sensitive buds. "Mhh Luffy- i-i need to wash you baby don't-"

He kisses your cheek before smiling. "Do you have any more things?"

"Things? You mean jewelry?" He nods.

"Mhm…but that's not important Luffy! Lemme take care of you ok ahh-"

You Arch your back, your protests ignored as he sucked on your chest. His hands rubbing over your sides gently as he grinds against you. "Show me." He said flatly as he pinched around your jewelry.

"Mm- no baby I need to…mhh"

His dick was hard as he rubbed himself against you. He seated you between his legs so he could grind lightly over your heat. He sucked gently on your buds before his cock rubs against something cold…unfamiliar.

"Baby.." He mumbled against your neck.

"Stand up.." You raised an eyebrow, turning around to see his love struck face. His lids low and his breath hot. His body warm against you as he tries to push you up.

"Ok ok! You're acting so weird" you say as you stand up.

"Bend over…please?" "Wanna see…"

You do as he said, your face heated.

He clings to your thighs to support you as he stares. "Woah…" He leans in close.

"Baby! How did you get this? Did it hurt baby?" He rubbed your upper thigh, the pressure from his finger making the ball rub against your clit. "Ah…"

One of his hands left your thigh as two fingers spread you open. The bathhouse air making your shiver from the breeze.

"Luffy…"

He turns you around as he straddles your hips, his face heated and sweaty.

"Baby…I need you…"

He lowered you on his dick, his pelvis hitting gently against your clit as the ball moved with his movements.

Your tips jumped up and down as he bounced you up and down on his cock, his hands gripping your hips almost painfully as he stared at your piercings. "A-ah baby…can you get some cute red ones?"

"Wanna see it while I fuck you ok ?"

You let out a whine as you nodded.

You really couldn't deny your captain's orders.

#monster trio x reader #monster trio #luffy smut #zoro smut #sanji smut #sanji x reader #luffy x reader #zoro x reader #smut #one piece smut #one piece x reader #one piece x you #♡#piercing smut

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ichorai · 1 year ago

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airbag ; steve rogers.

track one of OK COMPUTER.

pairing ; steve rogers x reader (gender-neutral)

synopsis ; five time steve tries to propose to you, and one time he actually does.

words ; 4.3k

themes ; fluff, mild angst, kind of avengers tower au?

warnings / includes ; mentions/descriptions of injury, alcohol, lots of lovesick fluff, rest of avengers are mentioned, natasha and tony Meddling, reference to spider-man & sandman :)

main masterlist.

Steve considered himself a romantic of sorts. Call him old-fashioned, but he liked bringing you flowers, he liked taking you to the theater, and he liked walking you home—all the way up to your door and listening for the lock, so he knew you’d be safe in there.

It was only fitting how cliché it felt when he realized he was in love with you. Firework-igniting kisses and butterfly-filled tummies and face-splitting grins. Everything described in those movies you enjoyed watching—but so much more.

Steve Rogers wasn’t a man to waste time. After all—enough of that had been done while he was frozen in the ice. If he was going to start something, then he was most definitely going to go all the way and finish it, too.

Almost immediately after your first anniversary, he bought a ring. It was simple and classic, maybe a bit out of style but hey, you seemed to be into that. You were dating a century-year-old.

It was December then, soft snow lining the streets and piling upon naked tree branches. During the drive to the fancy restaurant he’d found (courtesy of Tony), there were children building snowmen and sledding down shallow hills. You smiled watching them, eyes rife with fond warmth, and Steve knew then that he had to do it. He had to propose to you tonight.

Inside, you wouldn’t stop telling him how underdressed you felt, but Steve reassured you by saying a simple, “You look perfect, I promise.”

And he wasn’t lying. You did look perfect to him.

Dinner consisted of several decadent courses, with the waiters serving platters the two of you could barely even pronounce. It was delicious, nonetheless, and the chef had even come by to shake the hand of the Captain America.

During the last course—a silken slice of chocolate cake for dessert—Steve slipped his hand into his suit’s pocket, the velvet box smooth beneath his fingers. He replayed the question over and over again in his head, rehearsed a million times prior to the dinner.

Will you marry me?

And just as he was about to pull the ring box out, another diner pushed his chair back just far enough to accidentally knock into a waiter passing by, holding a plate of spaghetti. Completely sauced, to top.

To Steve’s horror, the plate tipped, almost in slow motion, and fell with a wet, splattering noise all over your outfit. You’d let out a small yelp of surprise, the spaghetti was hot, but not enough to burn. Steve stood up a second too late, hand falling away from his pocket as he rounded the table and placed it on your shoulder, asking if you were okay.

“I’m okay,” you told him gently, reaching over to grab a few napkins at the center of your table.

You didn’t get mad, of course you didn’t—it was part of the reason Steve loved you so much—instead, you were kind and patient, reassuring the flustered waiter that it was alright. “Mistakes happen,” you said. Another waiter came by a few minutes later with a few damp cloths so you could wipe the rest of the spaghetti sauce off.

Needless to say, the chef insisted that the meal was on the house that night, much to Steve’s chagrin.

The drive back home smelled of marinara sauce and oregano, but the heavy weight in his chest at the failed proposal seemed to lighten when you joked about how the five course meal ended up being six.

Natasha knew about the ring. Steve wasn’t quite sure how—he’d never explicitly told her—but then again, he wasn’t surprised. Nat seemed to always just know things from the smallest of details. It was why she made such a brilliant spy.

“So,” she’d said once she stumbled across from Steve in the Avenger Tower’s lavish gym, a sly grin stretching over her lips, “when are you popping the question?”

There was a pause to his movements—the dumbbell he’d been curling hovered in the air, his muscles tensing. He thought about it for a little longer, considering asking her how she knew but—he seemed to sense that Natasha would wave it away with a laugh and a light, “A magician never reveals her secrets.”

Instead, he told the red-head, “I’m working on it.”

Natasha leaned against a treadmill, arms crossing over her chest. The smile on her face seemed to grow even wider. “Uh-huh. How long have you had the ring?”

Steve resumed doing his reps. The burn felt nice, even if it was only barely there. “Long enough.”

There was a soft tenderness to Natasha’s eyes, and she bumped a fist into his bicep. “Take Y/N hiking. Far away from the city, where it’s quiet.”

Again, Steve paused his exercise. Slow, he put the weights down, thinking over her words.

“That’s actually—that’s a good idea, Nat.”

“Of course it is.” There was a knowing glint in her eyes.

“Thanks, really. I just want things to be perfect.”

She dipped her head once, before climbing onto the treadmill. “Send pictures. I’ve got a bet going on—Clint would want proof.”

Steve spared her an amused roll of his eyes. With a wave and a hurried goodbye, Steve rushed out of the gym to take a quick shower. The weather app on his phone (that he took an embarrassingly long time to find) told him the skies were going to be clear that afternoon—perfect for hiking.

Maybe, hopefully, perfect for proposals.

Half an hour later, you were ready to go, too, bouncing on the balls of your feet excitedly.

“I packed us sandwiches.”

“Did you? Oh, great—thanks, honey. We could have them as an early dinner.” He rubbed your shoulder and nudged you into the car.

“I packed a bunch of snacks, too.”

Steve arched a brow. “Like?”

“Gummy worms, popcorn, chips, cookies. Oh, and Wanda actually made something for us, I’m not really sure what it is, but it smelled nice—”

Your words died away when Steve laughed, loud and chesty. Of course you’d pack just about the entire pantry. How you managed to stuff all of that into your travel backpack with room to spare was beyond him. You couldn’t help but break out into an infectious smile when he leaned forward to kiss you on the forehead.

The drive out of the city to the hiking trail was long, and you nearly dozed off if not for the road getting progressively bumpier the closer you got.

The sun was high in the sky by the time you arrived. You slipped out of the car with a pleased hum and stretched out your limbs, ready to get the hike over and done with. You might’ve been dating a superhuman, but you had no powers of your own. The pressure to keep up was something always in the back of your mind.

And that’s how the hike went—you were determined to stay on par with Steve, no matter how grueling the terrain became. Even when he suggested a break to have some of the many snacks you’d packed, you tossed him your bag and kept trekking on—you were worried that if you stopped, you would never get back up again.

Really, you shouldn’t have overexerted yourself this quickly—the two of you were barely halfway done with the trail. Your feet were starting to drag, and your pace grew staggered. Just as you turned around to face your boyfriend and ask for a breather, your foot caught on a tree root that poked up above the trail’s surface, and you stumbled forward.

Thankfully, Steve’s quick reflexes came in handy, and he darted forward to grab you before you could go rolling down the steep hills.

He tugged you close into his chest, not yet registering your wince of pain. “Are you okay? That was a close one!”

When you pulled away, you gingerly tried to test your wait on the foot, but quickly lifted it back up with a grimace. “Oh, God. I think I’ve rolled my ankle.”

Steve stiffened, glancing further up the trail. It was maybe another two hours, but that was only with two fully-functioning pairs of legs.

The proposal would have to wait another day, then.

He cupped your face, soft and gentle. “Wrap your arms around my neck from behind. I’ll carry you down to the car.”

“You sure, Stevie? I can try hopping down on one foot.” You tried to demonstrate, but nearly lost your balance again. All the jostling sent bolts of pain down your foot, which surely wasn’t a good sign, either.

He snorted, huff-laughing, other hand slipping over your waist to keep you still. “I’m sure. Come on.” He leaned down expectantly.

Relenting, you wrapped your arms over his shoulders and hooked the inside of your thighs over his waist, careful to keep your injured foot extended so it wouldn’t bump into him. It was beginning to throb.

“‘M sorry,” you mumbled, resting your cheek over his shoulder, one of your hands lifting to toy with his short, blonde hair. He began to walk down, and you tried your best to ignore the pain in your ankle. “Ruined our hiking trip. I was so excited.”

“It’s okay, honey. It was an accident! We can always go another time. Maybe a different trail, though.”

You apologized again, the whole way down, in fact, despite his assurances that he wasn’t at all tired. He really wasn’t—barely broke a sweat during the descent. Besides, he quite liked the feeling of your holding so tight onto him, your nose pressed into the side of his neck, your soft laughter brushing over his skin in one moment, your slight winces in the next.

“I love you,” you whispered, lips brushing the shell of his ear.

He felt a shiver traverse down his back, and briefly wondered if you felt it, too.

“I love you, too. That tickles, though.”

Your laugh was abrupt and ever so heart-warming. “Sorry.”

The movie, you’d told him, was a cult classic from the seventies. Steve couldn’t really remember what it was called. Callie? Cassie? It was an awful lot of blood. The arm he had wound over your shoulder squeezed you every time someone screamed in the film—which was… startlingly often.

Proposing in the middle of a gorey movie wasn’t exactly the romantic vision Steve had in mind, but since the previous attempts really didn’t work in his favor, he wondered if keeping it casual was the best way to go. So when you asked if he could come over for an abrupt movie night, he readily agreed—and brought the small, velvet ring box with him.

It was tucked safely in the pocket of his slacks, on the side you weren’t pressed up against. The weight was a constant reminder of what he wanted to ask you—occupying his mind away from the movie he should’ve been paying attention to.

He’d propose once the credits started rolling. Yes, that’d be best, right? Wouldn’t want a horrified scream interrupting his profession of undying love to you.

And so he watched. He watched and watched, absentmindedly wondering what on earth the movie was even about. He dragged his knuckles up and down your arm. When a particularly gruesome scene unfolded, Steve glanced over at you.

To his surprise, your features were softened with sleep, only barely illuminated by the crimson glow from the television, your lips slightly parted and eyes shut.

With gentle movements, Steve reached over to guide your head onto his shoulder. Your hair tickled his cheek, and he let out a soft puff of a sigh before smiling. He kissed your temple, nose resting over your forehead.

The proposal would have to wait another day.

Tony’s parties were always an affair that Steve looked forward to. He wasn’t a party-goer by any means, but he found that the grand events were a great way for him to catch up with all his colleagues, acquaintances, and work associates he otherwise wouldn’t have spoken to for months to come.

And, of course, your excitement always seemed to rub off on him. You were buzzing about the room with what looked like twenty different outfits hanging off of your arms, holding them between you and the mirror with a scrutinizing look.

“Tucked or untucked?” you asked, more to yourself than him. He wasn’t given the chance to respond, anyway, since you chucked the shirt somewhere behind you and promptly started looking for another.

When you’d finally settled for appropriately formal attire, and Steve slipped into a button-up dress shirt (which was his one and only option, much to your envy), the two of you set off for Tony’s.

The party was already in full swing by the time you got there. Steve wasn’t entirely sure what the event was for—an anniversary or birthday, maybe? Fundraising gala? A celebration of some sort of scientific breakthrough Steve couldn’t even begin to comprehend? It was always a toss-up with Tony.

You were greeting people here and there, stopping to chatter amicably about what you’ve been up to, how work was going, the latest shows you’ve been catching up with…

And then you kissed his cheek and told him you were going to go grab some drinks. Steve watched you go with fond eyes. You looked incredible tonight.

A hand on his shoulder jolted him out of his reverie, and Tony Stark’s smug face came into view.

“Enjoying the party?” he asked, sly and knowing. What did he know?

“Hey, Tony. We only just got here. What’s all this for, by the way?” Steve crossed his arms and glanced around for any telltale signs.

A smirk flitted across his expression. “Just thought we all needed a bit of social activity pumped into the team. It’s a great place to… get your courage up, hm?” Tony smiled, and Steve narrowed his eyes.

“Did Natasha tell you?”

Tony snorted. “We all know.”

“Great.” Steve slid his hand into his pocket and traced the smooth grooves of the ring box. “Is everyone expecting me to propose tonight?”

“No, pfft—we don’t want to pressure you or anything…” Tony pointedly glanced at a stage conveniently placed front and center of the room. “But if you need some, what should I call it… assistance, the stage is all yours to use.”

Steve balked. Proposing at a party was one thing, but proposing on a stage in front of hundreds of people was completely out of the question.

Or was it?

“I’m not going to propose on a stage. That’s more your style.”

With a shrug, Tony rolled his eyes. “I mean, Pepper hasn’t left me yet, has she?”

Steve chose not to grace him with a response, but frown-smiled when Tony grabbed a flute of champagne and shoved it into his hands. He was gone the next second, off to greet a new round of guests.

Thirty seconds later, you appeared by his side, positively beaming, but slightly out of breath. There were two chilled glasses clutched in your hands, almost sloshing over with how quickly you bounded to him.

“Oh, you already got a drink?” you asked, grinning. You clinked both glasses against his, chiming, “Cheers!”

And as you were downing the sugary alcohol in your right hand, Steve ran a finger along the ring box again.

Maybe… maybe it really wasn’t a bad idea. He looked back at the stage. There was a microphone stand on there. Has it been there since the beginning?

He turned his head back to you, and you told him about Banner inviting the two of you over for dinner some time. Just as he was about to reply, his phone started buzzing in his other pocket. Deftly, Steve slipped his hand away from the box and went to pick up the phone—Sam’s caller ID staring up at him.

His friend’s voice sounded strained through the phone, and Steve gripped your hand and led you to a more quiet hallway, away from the crowd and the thrum of music.

Sam hurriedly told him that there was trouble downtown—something about Spider-Man and a very sandy guy.

“Sandy?”

“Yeah. Dude’s made of sand.”

“Oh.” Steve paused, brows furrowing. “I’ll be there in twenty. Can you keep it together till then?”

“Don’t have another choice, do I, Cap?”

With that, Sam hung up. Steve looked to you, crestfallen.

“Honey, I gotta go.”

Your voice was light and airy, despite your slightly crestfallen and confused countenance. “Sam’s in trouble?”

“Yeah. I’ll—” There was an uncertain pause. Steve leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to your forehead. “I’ll see you at home. I love you.”

Your brows pulled together. “I love you, too. Stay safe, Steve.”

It was something you just had to accustom yourself to—when your boyfriend was a superhero, his priorities encompassed far more than you. But you understood, as you always did, and let him hurry away with a stiff lip.

The hospital was packed. Claustrophobically dense. You hurriedly wove through the crowd of anxious people hovering around the information desk, having already gotten the text which room Steve was in.

A few twisting hallways later, you pushed through a door and just about collapsed with relief when your eyes landed on Steve.

He was badly bruised. Hues of deep purple and faint blues were blossomed all over his face. One of his eyes was swollen, his sandy-blonde hair was tousled, and his bottom lip was split. He was wearing a hospital gown, and you felt nauseated wondering just what other injuries he was hiding beneath the fabric.

But he was alive. That was the least you’d hoped for.

Tears pricked your eyes, and you only then registered that Bucky was there, standing by the bed, expression grim and steeled. His blue eyes darted away from his best friend’s face to meet yours.

“I’ll give you two some space,” he murmured with a tight edge to his voice. Bucky patted your shoulder and whisked off before you could say anything.

“Steve?” you croaked, drawing nearer to the bed. Your throat felt tight. “Oh, God…”

Despite his entire face aching, Steve managed to tug one of the corners of his lips up into a meager smile. “Hey, honey.”

His voice sounded hoarse and overused, but was still utter music to your ears. You just about collapsed onto the side of the bed, reaching out to gently brush the back of your shaking knuckles over what little of his face wasn’t bruised.

“I heard what happened on the news,” came your tearful whisper. “I was so worried you…”

Something softened within the blue of his eyes. “I’m still here.”

You dipped forward to press a soft kiss to his forehead, and his tired eyes slid shut.

“Has a doctor checked on you yet? Any permanent damage I have to look out for?” You pulled away so you could roam your eyes over his form once more.

“Just a few bruises. Bone fractures. Nothing I can’t recover from,” he replied, though he winced when he tried to shift and sit more upright. You placed a hand on his back and helped him move, cautiously slow.

“Take it easy, old man,” you warned. “Don’t want you to pop a hip.”

Steve wheezed out what seemed like a laugh. Then, his eyes darted to the bedside table, where some spare clothes were neatly packed in a bag. Bucky had brought them, making sure to hide the ring box safely underneath a few layers.

Should he? Now, when he had the chance?

“I have something to ask you…” he began, tentative, dragging his eyes back onto you. You tilted your head pointedly, beckoning for him to go on.

Just as he was about to say the words, there were three rapid knocks to the hospital room’s doors and they creaked open immediately after, two nurses shuffling in, clipboards in hand.

“Hello, just here to run a few more check-ups!” one of them chirped. “It’s not often we get a super admitted in here.”

Steve just about physically deflated. Your brows kinked, and you patted his cheek fondly.

“I’ll come by later—gonna go see if Sam is okay. You should rest, Stevie. Love you.” With one final kiss to his cheek, you got up from his bed and made space for the bustling nurses. He barely managed to lift his hand to wave you goodbye before you hurried out of the room, back into the packed hallways.

A month had drifted by since he wound up in the hospital (and discharged the very next day). It was pleasantly breezy that day—gusts of wind tousling his now-overgrown hair and whistling sweetly in your ears.

Steve bent at the waist to place the bouquet of flowers down in front of the headstone. If it were any windier, he was sure it would’ve blown away. But it stayed put, the petals only barely swaying to and fro, and he righted himself back up.

“Sarah Rogers,” you whispered, eyes trailing across the smooth grooves of her name indented into the slab, voice thick with fondness. “What did she look like?”

Your arm wounded over the small of his waist. The two of you had visited the cemetery a few months prior, where you helped him scrub all the moss and dirt from her headstone. He told you about many of his adventures with Bucky before his time frozen in the ice, but very little about his mother.

A wistful smile touched the corner of his face. Now fully healed, much to your relief.

“She was blonde. Blue eyes. Crow lines, I think. Really faint, but they appeared every time she laughed.” There was a nostalgic warmth to his tone.

“Took after her, then.” You beamed down at the grave. “She must’ve been beautiful.”

Steve leaned into your grasp and kissed the very top of your head. “She was. She would’ve loved you, you know.”

“Yeah?”

“She would’ve thought you were perfect. She saw a lot of terrible things in her lifetime, but you—you would’ve made her laugh a lot.” A pause. The wind hummed a disjointed tune. “She always believed in me, even though she was terrified for me all the time. Worried herself sick. If only she knew I’d end up here…”

Your head landed on his bicep. “She knows. She knew from the very beginning.”

The blonde smiled at you again, and you couldn’t help but notice his crow lines, too. It was comforting to know that there was so much of his mother in him.

“You ready for lunch?”

“I’m starving.” you told him, before blowing a chaste kiss to the headstone. “See you soon, Mrs. Rogers.”

Steve began to lead you away, and he couldn’t seem to scratch the smile from his lips. The two of you started walking back home, taking your sweet time. You were saying something—something about a nice lasagna you had frozen in the fridge—

But Steve could barely hear any of it. He couldn’t hold it back anymore. He had to tell you now.

“I love you,” he interrupted. The words died on your tongue and you regarded him curiously, as if he’d grown a second head.

Apparently, there was a near manic look to his eye that prompted you to worriedly query, “Is something wrong, Steve—?”

Instead of answering, Steve stopped walking. He dropped down onto one knee, brandishing the ring box from his pocket, flicking it open. The realization broke across your features just a second later. Your eyes widened, and you reared back in shock.

And the words—the words just came tumbling out. Not at all what he’d scripted for months on end, but something entirely different. Something raw and unfiltered—purely from his heart. “I love you, more than I can ever put into words. You’re just—amazing, perfect in every goddamn way. I don’t want to go another day without calling you mine. I want to be yours, honey. All of me, every single bit of me, with all of you. It’s been an honor being your boyfriend. Really, it has, but I’m… I’m ready to be your husband, if you’ll have me. Will you marry me?”

There were tears pricking the corners of your eyes. You were only but a streak of color before you were yanking him forward, practically burying his face against your chest. He didn’t care that there was a rock digging into his knee. Barely even felt it.

The next moment, you were pulling away to yank him back up, kissing him like he was the very air you needed to breathe.

“Is that a yes?” he asked against your lips, slightly muffled. He was smiling, because he already knew your answer.

You nodded into the kiss, refusing to pull away. “I’d marry you a million times over, Steve. Again and again and again, until you get sick of me.”

“Could never get sick of you,” he whispered, forehead leaning over yours. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

The two of you broke apart minutes later, reluctantly, though you had permanent smiles etched across your faces the entire way back home. The ring fit you perfectly.

When the news broke to the rest of the Avengers, they all erupted into an array of groans and cheers, and multiple wads of cash were passed around. Natasha sent the two of you a pleased wink. You two just landed her a combined total of a hundred bucks, but some secrets were simply better left unsaid.

#steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #marvel fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #avengers x reader #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers angst #steve rogers fanfic #captain america x reader #captain america fanfiction #steve rogers imagines #steve rogers oneshot #steve rogers drabbles #steve rogers ff #steve rogers x you

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dwindlinghaze · 2 years ago

Text

back at you

(peter parker x reader)

summary: the five times peter stood you up and the one time you did it back.

contents: angst, hurt/comfort, fluffy ending.

　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

i. empire state building

"hi love!" peter waves at you before sitting down on the bench with his arms around you. "i miss you."

"hi pete," you say back, planting a small kiss on his nose.

"are you free tonight?"

"if i purposely forget about my stoichiometry homework then i am," you grin.

he laughs at your joke, "i want to take you on a date on top of the empire state building. we haven't been on a real date lately and i've been a really terrible boyfriend for that reason so i want to fix things up. so- er what do you say?"

"sure, i'll be there," you answered.

"no, i'll pick you up at six and swing you up there," he insists.

"i've never been swinging in a thin sticky line before. i don't know how to feel about this offer," you make a face.

"come on it'll be fun i promise! just hold on to me and i will make sure you're safe."

"alright," you smile at him under the may spring weather.

when evening came, you were picking out outfits to wear to the date. you don't want it to be too much, because you'll be swinging high up in the air. you picked a comfortable outfit, ready to wait for peter to arrive at your door.

but he didn't come.

fifteen minutes have passed and still- no calls or messages.

you began to worry, thinking he's in a spider-man trouble but you believe in him to know that he will escape any inconveniences because he's smart and agile.

an hour has passed. no calls or texts.

you felt disappointed. you were really looking forward into this because peter's life has been replaced with spider-man lately and you've been replaced by new york city.

thirty minutes later, peter called you, saying he was sorry for not making it.

"hey lovely, i'm sorry. i really am. please forgive me, there's a robbery on the subway and it took me quite sometime to beat them all up," he says breathlessly with the sound of the wind.

"oh yeah that's fine," you say, trying to hide your disappointment but he hears right through it. "are you okay?" you ask him.

even with your disappointment, you still asked him how he is after the fight.

"i'm quite alright. i can pick you up right now and we can head to the empire state building right now."

"pete, i have to finish my stoichiometry homework."

"i will do it for you."

"have you finished it?"

"no," he admits, a beat of silence filling the line.

"well, i will see you tomorrow then. good night."

"good night, i love you, sweets!"

"love you too," you say before ending the call.

ii. ice cream

you met peter two days later, his state more jagged somehow. new bruises and scars on his face. you notice how he now wears long sleeves instead of the normal graphic t-shirt he wore with a science joke screen printed on them.

"hi pete," you reach for him, taking his hand in yours.

peter smiles a lopsided smile.

"i haven't seen you since our supposedly date day," you say, "are you all right?"

"i'm sorry about that," he replies, scratching his nose which made the dried scar torn open. "ugh-"

you pull out a napkin from your bag, folding it before pressing it against his bleeding skin. "who did this to you."

"no one, i just fell while swinging," peter says, kissing your hand that rests in front of his lips.

"this is not a bruise, it looks like someone did this to you," you say.

"let's forget about this okay?" he takes both your hands. "an ice cream date tomorrow?"

"sure," you reply.

"hey you didn't sound too pleased with that," peter remarks.

"i'm just worried pete, what if being spider-man makes you dead?" you say.

"stop, i'm not going anywhere," he assures you as he squeezes your knuckles. "tomorrow at three?"

"three in the morning or evening," you ask jokingly.

"at dawn, sweetheart," peter plays along. "i'll be there tomorrow. meet me at the ice cream shop okay?"

"i will," you agree. "let's go home, it's getting late."

"i'll walk you home," peter insists, throwing his arms around your shoulders.

as the two of you walked home, peter's spidey tingles were tingling. he ignores it at first but then sirens came so he looks at you sadly. you nod, urging him to help the police.

"i'm sorry love, please text me when you get home. i love you," he yells as he disappears behind an alleyway.

"bye, i love you too," you whisper, starting to walk back home.

the next day came and you are now sitting on a booth inside the ice cream shop. the time is now three o'clock sharp and you are waiting for your boyfriend to walk through the door. your eyes are glued to the street outside, wishing every person passing by is peter parker.

three thirty, and still no peter. the waitress asks you for your order but you decline it, saying that you're supposed to be meeting someone.

three fourty five, still no peter. you wonder how pathetic you look sitting here in the warm dim light alone surrounded by sweet couples.

you start to worry about him, then you start to question yourself on why you're here alone. peter was supposed to be here forty five minutes ago. he was supposed to be here sipping milkshake and inhaling mint leaves to make you laugh.

you fumble with your fingers, heart tripping and falling with no safety net.

the waitress you talked to earlier came with a tray of strawberry ice cream with a sympathetic look on her face. "here, for free. if you were a cartoon character, there'll be a cumulonimbus cloud hovering over your head," she says, pushing the tray to you.

"oh thanks," you say tiredly, "you don't have to y'know, think i'll be leaving soon anyways."

"it's fine. my manager wouldn't be happy to see someone sitting here without ordering any of our menus," she declares.

"but you said it's for free?," you say.

"she wouldn't know. it's a gift for me to you because clearly your 'someone' is supposed to be here but they aren't. hope this makes it up."

"thank you, dorothy," you read off of her name tag.

four fifteen, still no sign of peter but the tv above the counter was showing a scene of spider-man fighting a criminal on top of a roof high up.

you sigh, eyes shooting bullets at the tv screen.

you pack your belongings before heading back to your home. once again, peter stood you up.

"oh my god," you screamed when you heard a crash behind you. you reluctantly turned around, only to see peter on the ground with his hair messy and unruly. "are you fine?"

peter stands up, shaking the dusts off of him. "love i'm sorry! i'm sorry! i'm-"

"peter, it's fine," you put on a smile, even though your intonation screams disappointment.

"it's not, just because you're smiling doesn't mean i didn't mess up," he says apologetically.

"you have your duties. i can't force you to throw it away like how you do your chores."

"don't make jokes now," peter sighs, "are you still up for it? i'll buy you every menu in there."

"i'm tired. i've been sitting inside there for over an hour i just want to go home," you admit.

"at least let me walk you home," peter insists once more.

"okay.." you start to walk away down the block.

"i'm sorry, honey. please forgive me! how about we move this to tomorrow?" he asks.

"i don't think you'll like it there," you say.

"hmm? why's that."

"because i think i fell for the waitress that was there," you try to joke around to make him feel less guilty. he already has so much on his shoulders and you don't want to be one of his baggages too.

"who? i'm not letting a stranger take you away from me," peter makes a salty face.

"secret," you giggle. peter takes your face between his hands before planting sloppy kisses around your face.

now it's like everything is perfect. peter kissing you under the sparkling lights of new york's buildings on the sidewalk.

iii. star wars marathon

"ah y/n hi sweetheart!" aunt may opens the door to greet you. "peter told me you were coming over for movies"

"hi aunt may, is he here?" you ask her as you take off your jacket and put it on the rack.

"i thought he was coming with you?"

"oh yeah! i was supposed to meet him at the skatepark but he told me to go here first," you cover up for him. peter hasn't told may about spider-man yet and you want to keep him out of trouble.

"oh alright, have you eaten dinner?" may asks.

"i'll wait for peter first, aunt may, thank you."

"you can wait upstairs, peter wouldn't mind," aunt may offers.

"i know," you smile at her before coming up the stair to his room.

you opened his bedroom door, taking in the surroundings. his room is extremely messy. like a wrecked ship. you climb up his bed, making yourself comfortable on his bedsheets.

it has been hours since you arrived and peter still wasn't here. he was taking so long to the point where you feel asleep in his bed.

you felt sick in your stomach. all you ever hope for is peter's safety out there.

you woke up when a crash was heard from his fire escape. your body jolt up, your full attention is now on his fire escape.

"oh y/n! i forgot about our movie date!" peter say once he saw your face. "i'm so sorry, please believe me. i was looking forward to it but i i got carried away! oh s-"

"pete, come here," you say sternly.

peter freezes, looking at you like a deer in headlights. he is ready for your scolding as he walks over to you but his thoughts were quickly pushed away when you rub his arms tenderly.

"what happened, darling?"

"nothing too bad," he lets out a breathy laugh. "you should see the other guy."

"no i don't want to see whoever did this to you," you say in disbelief. "stay here, i'll help you with these," you point to his new scars.

"i have super healing, it's fine, love," he assures. "just come here please. let's watch star wars together."

"um i think it's getting too late," you say much to peter's disappointment.

"what do you mean? it's only eight thirty, we can watch one movie!" he starts to replace his suit into his pajamas, ready to watch with you.

"i have to get home, my mom needs me to... uh wash her dishes," you tell him. it's not that you didn't want to watch with him. you're too moody and upset to be around him for now.

he has been absent for dates three times in a row and you feel like you were fighting alone.

you left peter alone in the bed. you can practically feel his melancholia floating through the air.

"hey aunt may, i'll be going now," you bid goodbye to her.

"oh goodbye sweetie," she says. "make sure you get home safe alright? peter should walk you home!"

"that won't be needed, i'm fine aunt may."

"all right," may smiles warmly at you despite the cold air of the night.

when you arrived home, peter has sent you twenty five messages in a row. each of them being

'i'm sorry'

'please answer me, love'

'get back to me when you're home safely."

'pls get home safe'

'i love you'

and those messages over and over again.

iv. science laboratory

since that day, peter calls you over and over agin wishing you'd pick up. and you did.

you answered his call only for him to say that he was sorry and he's going to plan a date again.

you were tired of him asking you for dates and ended up being alone. you rejected his offer, saying that you have some family stuff so you won't be able to make it.

and peter knows

he knows that you're upset he has been leaving you alone on dates.

so the only time left for him with you is for the lab homework. you two are lab partners and you had suggested to do it in your house.

firstly because you don't want to walk home alone in the dark, and secondly, you don't want to lie to aunt may again. knowing that one way or another, peter will probably get home late.

you sat on your sofa, waiting for him to knock on the door. you place out the text books on the tables, set out glasses of water, take out some snacks from your fridge. and peter is not even here.

waiting for him has got you tired so you decided to do the work done yourself.

you already got most of the answers required then peter shows up; drenched in sweat and blood at your window.

you heard the tapping from below and immediately sprint upstairs, knowing it is peter.

"hey, uh i'm sorry," he winces as he steps inside your bedroom.

"hey pete, it's fine," you say, trying to assure him. "come in, let me fix you up."

peter nods, letting you take care of him. "you sound tired," he points. "are you alright, love?"

"that question should be asked to you!" you reply. "okay, here, just sit in my bed, it's fine."

peter does as you say, "sorry about this," he waves his fingers at himself with a bitter laugh. "and also our lab work. sorry."

"it's fine," you say again as you wipe the blood off his face gently. "i've done the work, most of it. you can finish the rest."

"what?" peter asks wide eye. "i- i was supposed to do that with you!"

"pete, calm down. i will let you finish the rest here. you look terrible."

"huh," he breathes. "nothing too bad."

"are you sure you could still do the lab homework?" you say, worried.

"yes love i am capable," he puts on a convincing grin.

"okay..."

peter starts to do the work while you rub his back soothingly. "if you're tired, that's fine. take a nap in my room."

"no i'm not," peter scrunches his nose, eyes squeezing shut.

"okay..." you continue.

v. chocolate cups

that night, peter has asked you to go on a date. and you didn't have the heart to reject him in such state.

the way he smiles when you said yes can melt every butter in the world.

he planned to go to the new chocolate themed place. from the advertisements, it shows to be an ideal date place for a romantic relationship.

you waited there, on the front. waiting for him. you actually has hope this time of peter showing up.

the place was cute and warm. displaying an unreal scenery. you saw couples walking in and you smile at them discreetly. they looked incredibly happy and in love. you can't wait for peter to get here so you can have the same happiness as they do.

you stand there, in the middle of the porch. he is already thirty minutes late. you see pity looks sent to you by people around. but still had hope.

but as each second passes, your faith in him was fading. you didn't know if new york really hates you or it's just a coincidence that whenever you and peter were supposed to be on a date, the city will have something coming up.

you decide that your waiting was too long so you come home. it was humiliating to say the least. the way other people looks so happy while you were feeling crestfallen.

those pity looks didn't make anything better either.

although you understand peter, being spider-man is hard. you have to constantly push your personal life aside to save the whole city from dangers.

a part of you wishes he didn't push you aside like his other things.

vi. the one time

days after, when you are calmed down from that upsetting and humiliating day, peter told you about this dinner place that he was looking forward to trying.

he knows you love culinary and this was perfect for the both of you.

you agree to going there with him, making a promise to be there.

he promised whatever happens in the city, he's sure it's nothing the police can't control.

the day came and you we're fighting your own mind about going or not.

you believe in peter. he's your boyfriend. he does not break promises. but there's always something coming up in evenings like these.

there's always something avoiding you two to be together.

so with the conclusion, you stayed at home.

peter on the other hand was worrying on the table he rsvp-ed. not only you haven't arrived yet but also you weren't answering his calls.

the worst possible scenarios come to his head. clouding up his thought in a fog of bad dreams.

he does think that he deserves this. having the humiliating feeling of when your significant other didn't show up on a date, in a room full of tenths of people with their pitiful eyes.

he couldn't wait no more so he goes straight to your home, hoping that you were there.

it was raining heavily, his neat shirt that you had given was soaked. his hair is dirty with mud and dirt.

and you are. you were reading a book in the dim lit bedroom. he knocks on your window hastily, hoping that you can hear him outside in the rain.

"peter?" you spoke. making your way to your window, the sight that flashes before you was unexpected.

you didn't think peter would actually show up so saving your energy by staying at home and get 'sorry' messages were expected. but not this.

"peter what are you doing?"

"did you forgot?" peter asks sadly, shivering from the cold rain.

"about our dinner?"

"...yes."

"i just thought you wouldn't show up. and i don't want to be in a situation like our previous date plans," you admit, feeling guilty.

"we made a promise, didn't we?"

"yes, pete. i'm sorry. i'm just so tired of standing alone in a room. i'm not going to let that happen to me anymore. i thought something was going to come up because that's what happens in our date. every one of them."

"but we promised. you didn't trust me enough to keep my promise?" peter asks, heartbroken by the thought.

"no! that's not what i'm implying. you always put new york's happiness above mine and i just- i don't know. doesn't seem fair. new york has its own police, government, and what not but you are my boyfriend. my best friend. i miss being with you. like actually being with you."

"love, i didn't realise how much i've been pushing you aside for this city. and you're right. i am your boyfriend and i'm supposed to make you happy- not neglected. i'm sorry."

"yeah,"

"yeah, and from now on i will balance peter parker and spider-man. just call me if you need me, and i'll show you just how much i care about you. more than anything."

"even new york?"

"yes!" peter exclaims. "i guess we're even."

"no, you stood me up five times. and i only did it once!" you joke.

"well that's true," peter says bitterly.

"pete, i'm only joking. i'm happy you're here," you say.

"you told me you missed me. and i do too. so why don't we spend time together. like, right now?" peter suggests.

"yes we can."

"movies?"

"star wars marathon?"

"i'll get the snacks."

#tasm peter x reader #peter parker angst #peter parker and reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker fic #peter parker fluff #peter parker x you #spider man x you #spiderman x reader

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datsyuks · 11 months ago

Text

Dessert First

Nico couldn't keep his hands off his pretty girl.

Warnings: mostly just f receiving. Smut below the cut.

(A/N: I love Nico. That's it. More to come. Enjoy.)

“I’m so full. The seams of my dress are going to bust.” You exclaim, walking into the hotel room. You toss your purse on the couch not bothering to place it nicely in your suitcase. The bed was calling your name.

Nico let out an airy laugh from behind you. “But you still want ice cream?” He followed you into the bedroom and stopped in front of the dresser, placing his watch in its case and taking his wallet out of his back pocket.

“Of course!” You plop down onto the bed, sinking into the feather duvet, your legs dangling over the edge. “I always require a little treat after a good dinner. It’s part of my DNA!”

Nico laugh fills the room and you start scrolling through Yelp to find a ice cream shop nearby.

The dinner was delicious. It was at a place you and Nico have been talking about for weeks. The ambiance of the lowlights and cloth napkins gave you the excuse to wear your new maroon dress. The fabric went down to right above your knee, just flowy enough to where Nico could push up the hem and rest his hand on the inside of your thigh during dinner. After winning his last game and a small break coming up, you decided a little staycation was in order.

Nico's movements out of the corner of your eye snap you out of your scrolling. You watch him turn around and lean against the dresser. You pretend to concentrate on your phone and hope that Nico doesn’t notice.

His fingers move to undo the buttons on his shirt, his eyes are glued to your body. His eyebrows crinkle in concentration and lines on his forehead appear. His hand moves down to his belt and stops, “hey baby?-“ Righ as you turn your head, he unlatches his belt, swifty tugging it off in one pull. You couldn't even focus on what was coming out of his mouth.

“Baby.” Nico says, a little firmer now.

“What?” You say quickly, trying to hide the fact you just got caught.

“I asked if you still want to go in sweatpants?”

Your eyes tilt up to him then down to his hands. It was a quick move but one Nico noticed.

“Yes please.” You whisper breathlessly.

He walks over and places a soft kiss on your forehead, “Ok good.”

Nico comes out of the bathroom not even five minutes later adorning black sweatpants and a gray hoodie. You, however, are still laying half off the bed in your dress and strappy heels from dinner.

“Did you change your mind?” Nico asks, coming to stand in between your legs.

“No. I think I found a good place. It’s only a five minute walk from here.”

Nico hums in response as he kneels down between you legs. He grabs your right leg and places your foot on his thigh. His fingers move along your ankle and his eyebrows scrunched together in confusion until he was able to unclasp the buckle on your heels.

He tosses the shoe off to the side and lifts your leg up, leaving a trail of little kisses up your calve to your knee. Each kiss leaving a little trail of heat. His big brown eyes glance up at you meeting your own, he gives one small smile before placing one last kiss on your knee.

Locked on a trance, you feel every brush of his fingers, every soft breath of air coming from his nose while he kisses up your leg then places your calf over his shoulder. You don’t even notice him unclasp your other shoe until you hear a loud thud.

Your breathing hitched as his mouth continued past your knee moving to the inside of your thigh.

His arms wrapped around your thighs, keeping you still.

“Nico, what are you doing?” You ask nervously, placing your elbows back to sit up. Nicos arms tightened around your legs, halting your movements. “Hmmmm?” He hums.

“What are you-“ you were cut off when Nico pulls your lower half off the edge of bed. You squirm around trying to adjust yourself, but your lower half is now being supported by Nico.

“Oh my god!” You grip the comforter for dear life. “My hearts racing!”

Nico leans up scrunching your legs up with him. “Sorry baby,” he pecks your lips, “I just wanted to eat my dessert before we go.” Your mind whirls at his words and he pecks your lips again. “Can I do that baby? You’ve looked good all night. When I saw you come out of that bathroom earlier in that dress. I knew I was a goner. I thought I could wait until after we get back but…,” he adjusts himself back down at the end of the bed, your leg is still hooked over his shoulder, "I dont think I can."

He slides his hands up your thighs, bunching your dress up in the process. His fingers dig into the sides of your underwear and drags them down your legs.

You can feel his wet kisses lead up your inner thigh to your core. A gasp leaves your lips as Nico's arms tighten to hold you in place as he pushes his mouth further into you.

Nico wasn’t lying. He continued to lick and suck until he had your hips desperately trying to lift off the bed. He decided to give in when a whine left your lips. He nudged his tongue into you, making sure to move one hand to your clit.

“That's it baby,” he lifts his head to to peer up at your face over your bunched up dress.

His eyes grew darker as he watched your mouth fall open in pleasure as he picked up the pace with his thumb. He knew you were close.

His tongue replaced his thumb on your clit sucking hard. Two thick fingers slide into you curling into you.

He let go of your hips as soon as you released, letting you roll your hips into his mouth. He lapped up every drop, not caring his mouth would be covered by you.

Your heavy breaths filled the air as Nico finished lapping you up. He presses last kisses onto your inner thighs before he leans up to your face.

“Satisfied?”

“For now," he replies.

Nico gently places your legs back onto the bed and stands up, holding out his hands for you. "Come on, I'll help you up."

Reaching up and Nico easily pulls you up into his chest.

"Woah," you wobble on your feet, your palms rest on Nico's chest.

"Too good huh?" he cheekily grins.

You giggle. "Alright, let's get going."

"Round two after?" Nico asks, his hands slide down your sides and rests on your butt.

"Hmmm," you start to pull away with a sly smile on your lips, "buy my ice cream and i'll think about it."

Nico playfully pinches your butt in return. You giggle, breaking away from his hands and head toward your suitcase.

"If were fast enough maybe we can start in the hot tub downstairs before they close?"

"Oh my god." You pick out your clothes and move your hair to one side, ready to ask Nico to unzip your dress. But he's already behind you, carefully zipping it down.

"Maybe i can ask the ice cream shop for a cup of whip cream to go?"

Your laugh echos through the bathroom.

"Is that weird?" Nico yells back. You only laughed in response, giving Nico his answer. This is going to be a long night.

#nhl fanfiction #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier blurb #nico hischier fic #nico hischier smut #n. hischier

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heartsforvin · 6 months ago

Text

LOVE AFTER LOSS

vinnie fluff !!! hope you guys like it !!!

this might be a bit long so buckle up !!

pairing: single dad!vinnie hacker x fem!reader

warnings: lil bit of angst, purely fluff though, cussing, mentions of anxiety & depression, mentions of abandonment, use of y/n, lmk if i missed anything !!!

summary: life after his son’s mother left them has been difficult, but what happens when vinnie stumbles upon you?

vinnie had met his son’s mother two years before his son was born. they were the happiest they could be, having spent two years loving each other.

when his son wesley was born, they were both over the moon excited to become parents, even if they were younger than the average parents.

about two months into wesley’s life, his mother had struggled heavily with depression and the anxieties of being a new mother.

she couldn’t handle the pressure of motherhood, on top of the depression and anxiety, so she had written vinnie a note and decided to take off.

when vinnie read the note he was crushed, he couldn’t believe she could do this to not only him, but their son as well.

it’s been two years since then, wesley had just turned two and vinnie could not be more proud of his son.

single parenting had its ups and downs for sure, but the two were doing good for the most part, as long as they had each other vinnie knew they’d both be okay.

wesley had been talking a lot more, still not fully grasping full on sentences, but he was definitely getting there sooner rather than later.

watching his son grow and talk made vinnie more than happy. he couldn’t believe this was his life, despite everything that happened.

◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡

vinnie was currently making lunch for his son, while wesley sat in his high chair and colored on a coloring book while he waited.

light music played as vinnie finished up making mac and cheese for his son. he got out strawberries and cut them in smaller pieces for the boy to eat.

“dada, look!” wesley exclaimed as he held up the book, smiling widely at his dad.

vinnie turned around to face his son, looking the book he was holding. “that’s great buddy! gonna have to frame it.” he told his son with a smile.

wesley’s grin didn’t falter until he watched his dad turn around again and finish plating the food.

“alright bub, mac and cheese and strawberries, just like you asked.” vinnie announced as he walked over to the high chair.

he moved the coloring book and crayons out of the way making wesley whine. “no whining wes,” he said, placing the plate on the table.

“remember what i told you if you’re good and eat all your lunch?” vinnie asked, making wesley nod as he shoved a spoonful of mac and cheese in his mouth.

vinnie smiled and grabbed a napkin to wipe his sons face. “we’ll go out for ice cream after, alright?”

wesley’s smile widened as he dropped his spoon. “okay, dada!”

vinnie laughed as he watched his son quickly scoop up mac and cheese and shove it in his mouth along with strawberries. he grabbed the spoon from his grasp.

“slow down, buddy,” vinnie chuckled as he slowly helped his son finish his food. “you don’t have to finish it all, just majority, okay?”

wesley nodded his head, cooperating as his dad helped him finish up his lunch. about five minutes later, he had told vinnie he was finished.

vinnie smiled as he grabbed the plate and stood up to wipe the rest in the garbage. “good job, bubba.” vinnie smiled at his son.

he put the plate in the sink and helped his son out of the high chair. “let’s clean you up and you can go play, okay?”

wesley nodded and walked with vinnie to the sink. vinnie lifted wesley up on the counter, grabbed a wet wash cloth and wiped the boys face clean.

“all good.” vinnie said as he helped wesley down, watching him run into the living room where all his toys were.

◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡

a few hours later, just as vinnie promised, he took wesley out for ice cream. everything was packed up and ready to go.

the ice cream shop was only ten minutes from vinnie’s apartment, so it wasn’t too far of a drive.

once vinnie parked his car and shut off the ignition, he unbuckled wesley from his car set and closed the door once he was in his arms.

“what’cha gonna get, wes?” he asks his son as they walk to the ice cream shop.

wesley doesn’t reply, he looks up at the sky like he’s thinking, making vinnie laugh.

“what’s funny, dada?” wesley’s sweet voice is heard, making vinnie smile.

“you are buddy,” he says, tickling the boy’s tummy. “now, chocolate or strawberry?” vinnie asks as they enter the shop.

chocolate and strawberry are wesley’s favorite flavors. vinnie knows how indecisive his son can get when trying to pick between the two.

luckily, it don’t take the boy too long this time and he chose strawberry.

vinnie walks up to the counter and places the order for both of them. they wait a few minutes until they get their small bowls of the treat and go to sit down.

“how is it, bubba? everything you ever wanted?” vinnie asks after a few minutes.

wesley smiles, added with an ‘mhm!’ seeing as his mouth was full of ice cream.

vinnie grabbed a few napkins and wiped the boys face, ice cream getting all over his cheeks.

after ice cream, vinnie decided to take wesley to the park to burn off the remaining energy he may have.

“okay bud, i’ll be right here with water if you need it, go have fun.” vinnie smiled before his son ran off to the slide.

it was about an hour and a half before sunset, so there was enough time for wesley to burn some steam.

as vinnie kept an eye on his son playing with one other kid, he glanced over to his left and saw a girl sit next to him.

he gave her a polite smile before eyes locking on his son again.

“is he yours?” the girl asked, immediately feeling embarrassed for asking such a silly question.

vinnie turned to the girl and smiled. “yeah.” he replied.

the girl smiled and nodded. “thats my niece, she’s four.”

vinnie nodded. “my son, wesley. just turned two.” he announced.

the girl held out her hand for vinnie to shake. “i’m y/n, by the way.” she gave him a slight smile.

“vinnie.” he replied, shaking your hand.

the two of you talk, you learn he’s a single father trying to give his son the best life he could have.

you smiled at how he talked about his son, the way he loved his son was so sweet.

the sun was just about to fully set when vinnie called over wesley for the night.

“come on buddy, time to go home and get ready for bed.” vinnie called out, grabbing the water bottle and standing up.

wesley came up to his father with a pout, making vinnie give him a sad smile.

“hey it was nice to meet you, see you around, yeah?” vinnie said to you as he quickly scooped his son up in his arms.

you blushed with a nod, calling over your niece soon after and taking her home as well.

◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡

about a month had gone by and you had a feeling you’d never actually see vinnie again, until one day that you do.

you’re both by yourselves this time, surprised to not see his son by his side since they seemed attached at the hip.

you’re at a local coffee shop in seattle, one you’ve been going to since highschool.

you notice the man standing by the counter as he waits for his drink, you order and head that way.

“hey, vinnie, right?” you ask as you approach the counter.

vinnie turns around with a smile and nods. “hey y/n, how’ve you been?”

you smile as your name leaves his mouth. when you two first met it was dark, you could merely see him in the dim lighting.

now that you get to see him in daylight, you saw how attractive he was. strong features, stubble growing in, beautiful brown eyes, and blonde curls that his son had obviously taken from his father.

vinnie, was doing the same with you. it had been so hard to get over wesley’s mother, it was like she was glued to him for months.

when he met you, however, it’s like his world stopped. you were the most beautiful girl he’s seen, and he needed you to know.

“you’re beautiful, you know?” he had no shame in saying it, there was no reason to when it was obvious.

blushing, you thanked him quietly before telling him how handsome he is.

the two of you got your drinks and decided to sit together. the two of you got to know each other more and even exchanged numbers.

“you been in seattle awhile?” you asked vinnie, seeing as it was kind of an important question to ask.

vinnie took a sip of his drink quickly before responding. he cleared his throat. if he was going to tell you the answer, mind as well say it truthfully.

“i was born and raised here but moved to california when i was eighteen,” he informed, you nodded. “i met wes’ mother then, things happened and wes was born. then shit happened with her so i decided to move back before wesley was one.” he explained.

you gave him a sympathetic look with a weak smile at the mention of things going south with the little boy’s mom. vinnie however, just shrugged it off.

“how about you, though?” he asked, and you sat up a bit straighter and gave him a smile.

“i grew up here too,” you replied. “never really left other than traveling, really.”

vinnie smiled and his mind immediately started racing with questions. how had they never crossed paths until recently?

they had to have at some point. unless they lived on opposite ends of the city.

you notice his confusion in the facial expressions he’s making and you giggle. little do you know, that just made vinnies heart jump.

it’s been so long since he’s felt this way, especially this early into meeting someone.

“you’re wondering how we haven’t met until now.” he goes wide eyed at your statement, wondering how you read through his mind.

vinnie stifles a laugh, smile added to it. “gorgeous and a mind reader, you’re two for two so far.”

you smile and blush at his statement, vinnie chuckling softly at your reaction.

another hour goes by and vinnie’s phone goes off. you glance down and quickly notice the text.

“oh shit it’s my mom, hold on.” he tells you apologetically.

you nod with a small smile as you wait for him to respond to his mom.

after a second he sets his phone down, smiling at you as he takes a sip of his drink.

“i’m sorry to cut this short, much rather spend a whole day than an hour with you,” he chuckles. “but wes comes first, and if we’re gonna continue to see each other, even if this is our second time meeting, i need you to know that.”

you take his words seriously, understanding completely that him being a father to his son comes before any woman he may want to see.

you nod. “of course, i understand.” you say as you stand up, he follows.

“you have my number, gimme a call when you can. might not be the most romantic, but bring wesley too if you want, maybe ill have my niece over.” you say with a smile.

vinnie smiles and goes in for a hug. you hug him back and pull away, grabbing your purse from the seat.

“i’ll call you.” he says with a smile before saying goodbye.

months go by and you and vinnie continue to see each other the best you can considering his schedule. he even properly introduced wesley to you, the boy being hesitant at first, but warming up to you quickly.

vinnie had told you he wants to take things slow, you were completely on board with that and honestly wanted it too.

you’ve been to his place a lot more in the past few months, even spending nights there sometimes. vinnie still hasn’t asked you to be his girlfriend, but it doesn’t bother you.

you know what he went through with wesley’s mother, the hurt it put him through, you don’t want to rush him into something.

the two of you are sitting on his couch watching a movie as wesley’s playing with his toys on the coffee table in front of you.

his arm is around your waist, he kisses your head before pulling you into him. you lay your head on his shoulder as you watch the boy in front of you play with his toy’s, along with the movie.

you feel vinnie lean in so you feel his breath on your ear. “you’ll be my girl one day, just gimme time.” he whispers.

you smile, tears threaten to spill from your eyes at the confession. you feel vinnie kiss your cheek as you continue to watch the movie.

vinnie never thought he’d be here two years later, but here he is, and he couldn’t be happier.

GIRLLLLLLL I LOVED THIS and i hope you all did too !! this is for the nonnie who asked for more vinnie fluff

tags: @cosmicanakin , @anqeliclust , @native2princess , @bernelflo , @visualbutterflysworld , @slvthrs , @0strawberrysorbet0 , @lovingsturniolo , @laylasbunbunny , @defnotayonna , @leqonsluv3r , @supabhad , @kriissy4gov , @kayleighh , @violet0182 , @hallecarey1 , @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom , @jpg3 , @khxna

#vhackerr #vincent hacker #vinniehacker #vvhacker #vinnie hacker smut #vinniehackerfanfic #vinnie hacker blurb #vinnie hacker fluff #vinnie hacker imagines #vinnie hacker #vinnie x reader #vinnie x y/n #vinnie hacker headcanon

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lostintransist · 1 month ago

Text

Seamstress | Part 9

This story is almost over and I have never had a better time wrapping up a story. These two make me so ridiculously happy.

Part one is found here. AO3

CW: Mentions of off page sex and fluids

For as long as John had been living in your flat this had to be the first properly labeled ‘date’ between the two of you.

John is driving and has arranged the whole evening. You tease him about the suit not fitting quite right, and that you might need to fatten him up before he goes back on jobs. He laughed and kissed the back of your hand, fingers threading between yours as he pulled into traffic.

“How were the guys about you being back on base today?”

John rolled his eyes even as he answered, “You would think I had just gotten blown up yesterday by the way they tip-toed past my office. I could time them by the end of the day. Simon came by every hour and would refill my coffee every three. Johnny and Kyle alternated every thirty minutes but never on the hours as that is when Simon would check on me. Gary camped out in my office and kept me fed.”

“They love you, John,” you can’t help but smile as they had all kept you informed about how he was doing all day.

“They sure do love to annoy me,” John muttered under his breath.

Before you could retort John pulled the car to the valet. Stepping from the driver’s seat he leaves the keys in the ignition. He claps a hand on the shoulder of the young man in red. He has a quick conversation that doesn’t translate past the door of the car and then John is at your door, opening it and helping you out. As if taken from a black and white film he tucks your hand into the crook of his arm. Greeted by a stiff-looking maître d’ that matched the reflective marble flooring you hold tighter to John. This building must ache under the weight of its years. The faint clinking of silverware on plates and the mummer of voices echo around the space.

“Name?” Stiff bespectacled man asks.

“Price,” John replies succinctly.

Behind the podium, the man scans his tablet looking for John’s information.

The confidence with which he knows that his name will appear on the list tickles you. You love it when he is bashful with you, but you adore confident John. Confident John is the one who charmed you, though delusional John is the one who offered you 150,000 dollar bucks to see you naked. That still makes you laugh when you think about it.

When he peers down at you with a brow lifted you assume he must have heard the quiet chuckle bounce off the walls or the floor.

“Sir, if you will follow me this way?”

You both look to the maître d’ already three steps ahead. John winks as you as you start after the man on. The bump to your hip nearly causes you to trip and hold tighter to John’s arm. Shooting him a glare he only gazes at you as if you are the most precious thing in the world. When the maître d’ begins to weave through tables John lifts your hand from his arm and leads you from behind. The tables are close together. Intimate lighting and long-reaching table-cloths topped with taper candles and intricate candle sticks.

The maître d’ leads you beyond them all, past a wall decorative of cutouts to a large circular room with five other couples seated far enough apart to not overhear one another’s conversations. Once you settle into the table and the waiter has appeared, disappeared, and reappeared with the wine John lets his attention fall to you.

“Why the laughter as we were waiting to be seated?”

The blush must be stealing across your cheeks the way his smile warms.

“I was thinking about all the sides of you I have seen,” you lift your thick linen napkin from your plate and place it on your lap with a flick.

You might be avoiding his eyes but he won’t call you on it.

“Do go on my love, what about me?”

Glancing up you find John resting his chin on a fist as his elbow sits on the table. You look away as fast as you can, cheeks heating to an uncomfortable level.

Tonguing your teeth you aim for honesty as you direct your answers at your plate.

“Well, I was thinking about how I love when you get bashful. Then I thought about how confidence looks sexy on you…”

“And?” he prompts. His eyes are still on you. The trail of gooseflesh across your chest and peeps of cleavage confirm it.

“And then I thought about how a delusional side of you,” you flick your gaze to his now to drive the point home, “Offered me 150,000 dollar bucks to see me naked.”

It’s John’s turn to blush. He straightens, both hands disappearing below the tablecloth as he adjusts his pants.

“Don’t regret the offer. I would offer more if I thought you might accept it,” he grumbles.

Before you can respond the waiter reappears.

“The chef welcomes you tonight to this one-of-a-kind experience.”

He goes on, explaining each step of the five-course meal. John must have pulled out a black card for this date. You sent him sly looks as the waiter went on. He would have paid you the money offered to see you naked.

Dinner goes on and on, nearly a three-hour event. When you can tell it is starting to wrap up, the chef is making rounds to the tables greeting each couple in turn, John catches your eye.

“Can I offer you 150 to get out of here?” He waggles his brows slightly.

The confusion on your face must show as John is concerned until your mind clicks the pieces together. 150. He is asking to take you home and see you naked. The sultriest of smiles morphs his lips as he watches you comprehend the offer.

“Let’s finish meeting the chef and I’ll take your offer. I’ll only charge you 100.”

His boisterous laugh makes an appearance, bouncing around the space until every set of eyes has touched your table. Hiding your own giggles behind your napkin, you focus on being presentable again. You and John barely make it through meeting the chef before leaving the restaurant, your body tucked as close as can be managed with his hand resting at your waist.

Contact is maintained the entire drive home. Sometimes it’s John’s hand resting on your thigh or your lips pressed to his knuckles. He lets you lead as you enter your flat. After locking the door you tug him into the bedroom, soft lighting from your fairy lights and a spare candle you light.

Like everything before it sex with John is sweet, full of laughter, and fulfilling in a way that nothing else could broach. The night moves slowly as John is often frustrated with his lack of stamina as he is still recovering. You enjoy the prolonged amount of time to explore his body and commit it to memory. Not that you would ever let him leave after offering so much money for the privilege of your skin.

When morning crests it finds you both covered in various fluids and achy and in need of pain meds, coffee, and a shower though not specifically in that order. Life with John is more perfect than you could have asked for from a genie. Even him leaving on jobs again does not diminish the love that waters the well of your soul.

Part 8 | Part 10

Seamstress Masterlist | Masterlist

@madsothree

#lostintransit #lostintransit writing #cod #fanfiction #cod x reader #price x reader #john soap mactavish #john price x reader #captain john price #simon ghost riley #gary roach sanderson #kyle gaz garrick #fluff #johnny soap mactavish

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cameronspecial · 1 year ago

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/cameronspecial/730937552404627456/let-me-protect-you-angel

can you tell use more about rafe’s rules for the reader, pls and thank you lol 👀

— @cantstoptheimagines

Let Me Save You, Angel

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Uncomfortable Because of A Pervy Misogynist

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.2K

A/N: This is a continuation of Let Me Protect You, Angel.

Masterlist

Some of Y/N’s favourite rules for being Rafe’s girlfriend are the ones that show her that he cares. She didn’t need to look at the napkin anymore to remember which rule was which number because she had them all memorized since they wrote them down on that napkin during their first date. Numbers Five and Six often happen in tandem and show Rafe’s caring side. She hasn’t seen Rafe in almost five days, which is quite obvious to the whole campus as Rafe always gets more on edge when he doesn’t see her. However, she finally gets to see him again and follows Rule Number Six. The door to Rafe’s room has a code, which beeps its little song as she punches in her birthday.

Her thoughts are focused on taking her stuff out of her backpack, so she is genuinely surprised by Rafe’s arms wrapping around her waist. “I’m so glad you could come over tonight, Angel. I was scared we were going to break our streak,” he declares, pressing his nose against the skin of her neck. She brings her hands up to wrap them around his neck and looks up at him, “It would be a shame. I’ve slept over at least once a week since we started dating. That’s a hundred and four-week streak.” Rule Number Six: Sleepover in Rafe’s room once per week whenever possible.

He moves them over to lie down on his bed with his head resting on her breasts. She can feel his soft breath on her skin as he talks. “Rule Number Five, Angel.” She draws patterns on his back, letting out a big sigh, “It was stressful. I had a lab and I couldn’t find my notebook with all my notes for this week’s experiment. And then I got caught up in the cafeteria line at lunch so I was late for my meeting with my academic advisor. This whole week has been so busy.” She feels his fingers start to trace tiny hearts on her bicep. “I’m sorry things have been so hard and I couldn’t be there for you, Angel. I hate that I had to go away for my football game,” he grumbles. The fact that his mouth is pressed against her skin turns his words into raspberries and it makes them both laugh.

“It’s okay, I’ve been pretty busy, so I probably wouldn’t have been able to come over anyway. How was your day, Rafe?”

“It was okay. Same as always. The only eventful thing that happened was that Topper accidentally wore my underwear. That was weird. But it got so much better when you walked through the door though, Angel.”

“My day got better when I walked through the door too.”

He lifts his head and gives her a sweet kiss on the lips. Rule Number Five: Always tell each other how your day went, no lying. Even if it has to be over the phone, through a text, in an email or in a written letter.

——

Y/N remembers how ridiculous she thought Rule Number One was when Rafe wrote it down on the napkin. “Come on, that’s never going to happen,” she proclaimed, tilting her head upright after reading the words. Rafe shook his head, underlining a specific word of the rule, “You don’t know that. And, god forbid if it does, then I want you to let me save you, Angel.” She could see he was serious and concerned about the possibility of something happening, so all she could give him was a nod as a promise.

Right now, she could not be more glad that her boyfriend is always thinking ahead on how to protect her. She didn’t know how she got into this situation. One minute, she was by herself in the lab looking over the work she did for this week's experiment and the next, Terrick was in the room with her. He has every right to be in the room; he is also in her class and pays for tuition. However, she always feels a little unsettled by him. The way he looks at her makes it obvious he is objectifying her. The way he speaks makes it clear that he was not taught to respect women. The way he stands too close to her makes her stomach drop. She wants to walk out of the lab right now so she isn’t alone with him, but he is blocking the doorway. “And the bitch got my name wrong too. Like sure, get my order and my name wrong,” he starts ranting. “I don’t understand how a girl can screw up my drink order. Aren’t you guys made to do that type of stuff?”

Y/N doesn’t know what to say. His frustration at something so trivial causes fear to flash through her and she is scared of what might happen if she tries to leave the room. Thankfully, as if Rafe had spider senses, she gets a call from him. She gently lifts a finger up to tell Terrick to give her a second, “Hi, Rafe. What’s wrong?” “Nothing, I was just wondering what you wanted me to bring over tonight. I’m at the store, right now,” Rafe asks, placing his pre-workout into his cart while his phone is wedged between his shoulder and ear. Y/N flashes Terrick a tight-lipped smile as he impatiently waits for her to get off the phone, “I’m actually craving some pie. Could you get me a coconut pie?” Rafe immediately stops what he is doing and moves his phone to his other ear. “Are you sure you want coconut?” he presses, already returning the stuff he was going to get onto the shelf.

“Yes.”

——

They stayed on the phone for the whole time it took Rafe to get back on campus, pretending that he needed a detailed account of every single item Y/N needed from the store. When he walks through the door, Y/N feels her heart rate start to slow down. “What are you doing here?” Terrick snides through his teeth, looking at her boyfriend in annoyance. Rafe immediately puts himself between Y/N and the other man, “I realized that I am so clueless that I need Y/N to come to the store with me, so I came to pick her up. Are you ready to go, Angel?” The last part is obviously directed toward her and she is quick to get her backpack so she can weasel her way under Rafe’s protective arm. “Yep. Bye, Terrick. Great talk.”

The couple makes their exit in each other’s hold with Rafe keeping an eye on Terrick. Once they are out of his earshot, Y/N lets out a sigh of relief. “Are you okay?” Rafe worries, looking her over for any indications that Terrick touched her. She gives a small nod, “Yeah, he didn’t hurt me. I don’t think he was going to. I’m sorry I used the code word, I probably shouldn’t have if I didn’t think he was going to do anything.” He stops their journey towards the exit and swings himself so he is facing her. His hands find weight on her shoulders and he lifts her chin up to look him in the eyes. “I don’t care if you use the code word for me to come kill a spider. If you feel the slightest bit uncomfortable or scared, you tell me coconut pie and you let me save you, Angel. Do you understand?” he brings her into a hug and kisses her temple. “You have to trust your instinct. Your safety is my number one priority.”

Rule Number One: Say coconut pie if she needs Rafe to save her.

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ddejavvu · 1 year ago

Note

mei! can you write a little hangman trying to corral and take care of his drunk gf?? im a lil tipsy rn and thinking abt it

tw for mentions of getting sick

"Bradshaw," Jake taps his fellow aviator on the shoulder, two beers in hand, "Where's my girlfriend?"

"Phoenix took her to the bathroom," Bradley informs Jake, "She was feeling a little queasy, I think."

"Shit," Jake groans, shoving both beers into Bob's unsuspecting hands. The WSO blinks bewilderedly, but passes the drinks to Fanboy and Payback when they invite him over to the dartboard.

Jake shoulders his way through the crowd, beelining for the women's restroom and slapping a hand over his eyes before pushing the door open.

"I'm not trying to see anything," He calls out, standing in the doorway, "I just want to know if my girlfriend is in here."

He hears a distressed groan from you to his left, and Phoenix calls out, "It's just us, Hangman. You can come in and open your eyes."

He does as instructed, finding you crouched on the floor inside the third stall. Phoenix is behind you, your hair gathered back into her hands as you hover expectantly over the toilet.

"Nothing yet," Phoenix fills your boyfriend in, "I think it's less about the booze and more about the bottomless fries."

"Gotcha," Jake nudges her away to take her place, swooping your hair up again when it falls over your face, "You've been snackin, huh baby?"

"I didn't eat that many," You swear, but Jake knows practically any amount of the bar's greasy french fries can be vomit-inducing, "I want- I need water."

"I got it," Phoenix heads for the door, "Don't let her eat any more, Hangman!"

Jake's confused until you reach for your purse and retract a napkin stuffed with fries.

"Hey- hey! No," He takes them before you can eat any of them, chucking the handful into the toilet to deter you, "Baby, what are you doing? Those made you sick."

"But they're so good," You lament, "Jake, they've got the garlic salt on 'em, and- and I want more!"

"But they're too greasy for you to handle right now," He smooths a hand down your back, "Baby, you can't eat those when you've been drinkin', that's why we're in here. You can have some on Friday night, m'kay? You can be DD."

"I'm not even sick anymore," You grumble, all of a sudden struggling to your feet. Jake backs out of the stall so that you can stand, but your drunk mind seems to envision a velcro patch covering Jake's chest, and you stick your own matching one to it to throw your arms around his neck.

"I want food," You inform Jake, and he leans in to kiss you despite your beer-breath, "I want something big, and- and greasy, and meaty, and-"

"How about pancakes?" Jake offers, ringing his hands around your waist in case you decide you're going to lean your full weight on him, "We can head to Denny's, it'll only be a five minute drive."

"Do they put garlic salt in their pancakes?" You wonder, gazing at Jake like he's a prophet. He's not, but he thinks he knows the answer anyway.

"Uh," He chuckles slightly, glancing at the door when Phoenix returns, a glass of water in her hands, "I don't think so, darlin'. Here, drink that," He pats your back, releasing his hold on you so that you can take the cup from Phoenix, "All of it, honey, then we'll head for Denny's. Okay?"

"Mhm," You nod around the rim of the glass, the sound echoing slightly as you gulp down the water.

"Takin' her for pancakes," Jake locks eyes with Phoenix, "I'm gonna go get her purse, can you supervise?"

"Hurry up," She nods towards the door, "Fanboy's a nosy drunk, I'm pretty sure he already rooted through her stuff and found a tampon."

"Christ almighty," Jake scoffs, storming out while you chug down the rest of the water in your glass. He does, in fact, find Fanboy seated by your purse, inspecting a plastic-wrapped tampon with bewildered eyes.

"It comes out of the plastic, dipshit," Jake demonstrates, popping the applicator off and stuffing it back on after they've gotten a good look, "Phoenix was right, you are nosy. You wanna inspect her lipstick, too?"

"Oh please, we see that all the time." Rooster drawls, yanking at Jake's collar and revealing a deep pink kiss mark against the base of his neck. The pilot grins beneath his mustache, collecting the coins from your wallet that Fanboy had counted to occupy himself and handing them off to Jake, "Just be lucky he didn't go through your wallet, Hangman, he would have found those nudes you keep in there."

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ebodebo · 8 months ago

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Forbidden Fruit

NSFW CONTENT

—you and ghost had a relationship before you went off to college for your master's and he comes back for your father's and his bestfriends, captain price, party he’s hosting.

—dbf!ghost x f!reader

—1.6k+

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"So, what are you celebrating anyway?" you ask your dad as he stands in the kitchen frosting cupcakes while you sit on the counter half-assisting him.

"Uh...nothing in particular," Price says as he carefully frosts a cupcake. "I just thought it could be nice since everyone's in town."

"Mhm," you remark as you stick your finger in the frosting. He stops frosting and stares at you. "Oh, come on, my hands are clean, plus no one has to know."

"I would know," he earnestly says, half joking, half serious. "And I'll tell everyone, you stuck your finger in the frosting. You might as well stick your finger in their mouth."

"Oh my God, you are so dramatic!" You exclaim, laughing. His laughs follow yours until you begin talking.

"So, who's all coming anyway?" You question finally picking up a cupcake to begin frosting it.

"Uh...just the usual." He continues. "Kate and her wife, Johnny, Gaz, and Simon." Your eyes dart up. "Simon?" He sets the frosted cupcake down. "Mhm—oh damn it." He says, as he spills some of the frosting on his shirt. "Why?" He questions as he reaches for a paper towel.

"Uh...no reason. I just haven't seen him in a while." It had been a while or so since you last saw Simon. And saw him you did.

"I guess it has been a while. Well, you two can catch up. Talk to him about college." You half smile.

"I should go change," you say, sliding off the counter and heading towards your room. Your mind is clouded with thoughts of Simon.

These are mainly thoughts of the way he left before you went back to college to pursue your master's. You confided in him, cried to him, embraced him, and even loved him.

He said he would keep in touch, but that had been all of five years ago. You had not spoken to or seen him in five years. Of course, your father had no idea of the sentiments you and Simon shared. He could never know.

You had sat in your seat for almost forty minutes. You were busy conversing with Laswell, mostly about college. You were just glad your dad answered the door for him.

Your goal was not to look in his general direction for the rest of the night, but your dad forced you to greet him. It's a good thing his greeting is pretty much always serious and to the point, so it wasn't odd to John that his daughter and Simon shared only one word.

However, then your dad had the grand idea to play a board game, which would force you to look at Simon. This would not do. You were looking for any reason to leave the table, to leave Simon.

Thank God Kate spilled some of her wine on the table. "No problem. Let me go get some napkins," your father chimed as he stood up.

"I'll get them." You stood quickly, heading to the shed before anyone could object.

You make your way outside to the shed to grab the napkins. You open the wooden door, which is surprisingly quiet, and step inside.

"If I were a napkin, where would I be." You whisper to yourself as you rustle around the knick-knacks crowding the shelves.

With no luck finding the napkins on the lower shelves, you investigate the higher shelves. You notice the familiar shade of white on the top shelf. "Bingo," you proclaim, but soon discover it would be impossible for you to reach. You scope around, noticing an old wooden box.

You drag the box in front of the shelves and stand on it, slowly extending your arms higher and higher until your finger grazes the napkin packaging. However, you feel the box holding you up starting to tilt—just your luck.

"Fuck!" You squeal as you feel your body falling, though you never do hit the ground. Instead, a force holds you up. You open your eyes to see Simon's eyes peering into yours as his arms encapsulate your body.

"You should be more careful," he gruffly states as he gently puts you down. You narrow your eyes at him. "What are you doing out here?" you question, irritability lacing your words.

"Price asked me to check on you," he says. “You were taking a while." You turn towards the napkins again. "Well, tell him I'll be out in a minute." You step onto the box and are expecting Simon to leave, but to your dismay, you turn your head to him in the exact same spot.

"This is usually the part where you turn and walk out the door." You chime as you place your hands on your hips.

He stayed stationary, no words coming out of his mouth. You narrowed your eyes again at his lack of action. "Simon," you annoyingly said as you impatiently tapped your foot.

He should most definitely not be thinking about you the way he is at the moment. You aren't just his boss's daughter; you are one of his best friends' daughters. It's unforgivable. You were off limits, forbidden fruit.

Forbidden fruit Simon Riley wanted to take a bite out of.

"Whatever." You scoff as you begin to reach for the napkins once again. "Stop." He bluntly says. You don't stop, though. You were going to get these God damned napkins one way or another.

"Y/N." He began, his voice becoming increasingly annoyed at you blatantly ignoring him.

You still stretched your arms, finally feeling the plastic bag holding the napkins between your pointer and middle finger.

"Enough." He sternly said as you stalked up behind you and roughly grabbed you by the waist, pulling you off the box.

"I almost had them." You breathed out, seething with anger. Though you were safely planted on the floor, Simon didn't let go of your waist. His hands stayed on your body.

Your eyes were staring into his. Your breath synchronized with his shallow breaths. "Let go, Simon," you breathlessly said, breaking the silence as you felt his hand grip tighten.

"No." He gruffly says as he brings you closer to him.

No, no. He wasn't just going to come back after years of ignoring you and years of your yearning for him.

"Your parents didn't teach you any manners?" It was a low-blow and you knew it, but you were furious. You didn't know the ins and outs of Simon's relationship with his family, but you knew there was some deep-rooted trauma there.

"I guess not." He plainly states, bringing his hand up to cup your face.

"Go figure." You whisper as you feel his hands on your face.

"Now that we know it's not my fault, can I kiss you?" He leans down, bringing his face closer to yours, his lips hovering over yours.

You are a weak woman, and you know it. It was just one kiss. That didn't mean you forgave him. I mean who are you to deny him one kiss?

You answer his question by hungrily connecting your lips. One of his hands slips into your hair while his other hand slides down to your waist.

Your hands instantly connect with his hair, slightly tugging at his roots and eliciting low grunts from him. He carefully slips his hand under your pale yellow sundress.

"We shouldn't be doing this," you whisper as he kisses your neck, moving to your collarbone. "What if someone finds us? My dad?" you question, worry coating your voice.

"You want me to stop?" He questions, slowly pulling his hand out from under your sundress. You eye him before grabbing his hand and placing it back under your dress, causing him to let out a gruff laugh.

"That's what I thought." He cockily says as he slowly rubs through your underwear, causing you to let out a moan.

"You've got to be quiet now." He continues rubbing light circles. "We would hate to have your dear old dad come in, wouldn't we?" You raise your hand to cover your mouth.

He shakes his head. "Move your hand." He commands. You hesitate for a moment. He raises a brow. You finally oblige, and as you uncover your mouth, he shoves your underwear aside and sticks his finger inside you. Making you open your mouth wide, but he is quick to slam his mouth onto yours, preventing the sound from escaping.

You bring your hands up to lock around his neck for support as he glides his finger in and out of you. He picks up the pace, grunting into your mouth as he feels you tighten around his finger.

"Gettin' close, huh?" He whispers into your mouth. You frantically nod your head. He curls his finger inside you, finally making you release.

He holds you up while you ride down your high, legs too shaky to stand up straight. "You know I'm still mad at you." You say as you place your hand on his shoulder for extra support.

"I know, sweetheart." He nods.

Your legs finally stop shaking, and you are able to stand without his support. Your eyes widen in horror. "What are they going to think? We have both been gone for a while." You start pacing.

"Relax." He gently grabs your shoulder. "They won't know a thing." He assures. You skeptically look at him. He tilts his head.

"You'll be fine. Come on." He guides you to the door and opens it for you.

"So, now what?" You question as you make your way to the backdoor of the house.

"Tell me about college." He says as he opens the door to the house for you.

Even though you were still furious with Simon for essentially ghosting you, you couldn't help the small smile on your lips at the thought of regaining the relationship you once had with him.

"Got a boyfriend yet?" He cheekily says.

Baby steps, you remind yourself.

reblogs & comments are encouraged!

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veronicaphoenix · 2 months ago

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zutto — chapter thirteen | wc: 6k | series masterpost | prev. chapter

Chapter summary: Noah and Lia spend the day in Tokyo and visit a certain exhibition that leads to steamy things once they're back in their room.

Reading time: 25mins. aprox.

Tags and trigger warnings: talks/depictions of rope play and mentions of war and torture (related to historical events), wet dreams, explicit sexual content including teasing, dirty talk, Lia wearing a choker, Lia on her knees, oral sex (Noah receiving), p in v (protected and unprotected), praise kink, “good girl”, Noah restraining Lia’s wrists, slight dom/sub dynamics if you squint, fluff. Let me know if I missed sth.

Say thank you @bluestdai because the wet dream scene was inspired by her fanart of Lia and Noah. 💞

I wanted to post this before I leave on a roadtrip, so I didn't have much time to really revise it. Sorry for any typos or mistakes you might find.

General trigger warnings: this work addresses and depicts issues related to addiction, abuse, & violence, contains explicit sexual content, and explores themes of childhood trauma. Reader discretion is advised. +18

“Will you stop looking at me like that?” Lia demanded, her cheeks tinged with a rosy hue as she struggled to speak around a mouthful of her fourth tamagoyaki of that morning. Her hand hovered in front of her mouth.

Noah’s grin widened. “No.”

A crease formed between Lia’s brows as she swallowed. She licked her lips before retorting, “It’s making me uncomfortable.”

“Is it?” Noah asked, his tone playful as he arched an eyebrow. “I love watching you eat. You look adorable. I can’t help it.”

Her face grew even warmer.

“It makes me self-conscious,” she mumbled, glancing at the empty plate in front of her. “That was my fourth tamagoyaki...”

Noah, who had finished his breakfast minutes earlier, continued to watch her, his elbows resting on the countertop of the kitchen isle. Grandma, ever busy, had flitted off to another part of the house barely five minutes ago.

“Want another one?” Noah asked.

Lia’s eyes widened in alarm. Before she could reply, he raised both hands in a gesture of surrender.

“I’m not teasing! I’m serious! I love the way you enjoy food. That’s all.”

Lia hesitated, her eyes darting to the tray where the remaining tamagoyakis were arranged in two perfect rows. Temptation gnawed at her, but her stomach was already satisfyingly full.

“I’m good,” she said, brushing her fingers on a napkin. She made a mental note to ask Grandma for the recipe before returning to the States. No Japanese restaurant back home could replicate the unique taste of Grandma’s cooking, and she was sure neither could she—nor Noah, for that matter. But she was willing to try.

Just then, Hana bustled back into the kitchen, her white hair neatly gathered into a bun. She carried a pile of freshly washed kitchen rags that she quickly stored in a drawer.

“Why don’t you take the rest with you?” she suggested, gestuing toward the food tray and already pulling a plastic container from the cupboard. “You’re spending the day out, right?” she asked, glancing between them.

“Yep,” Noah confirmed.

“Better to have something on hand,” Grandma insisted. “Just in case.”

“We’re planning to eat out,” Lia pointed out, standing from the stool.

“For later,” Grandma said with a knowing smile. Without waiting for further protests, she began packing the tamagoyaki along with a couple of small juice bottles.

Lia shrugged, catching Noah’s amused expression. Despite herself, she couldn’t hold back a grin.

As Grandma finished packing their food, Noah and Lia headed upstairs to change out of their pajamas. Today, they were planning to explore Tokyo on their own after spending most of their stay so far indulging in Grandma’s company and taking her to places.

They made the bed together and Lia opened the balcony doors to let some fresh air in. While Noah was checking his hair in the bathroom, Lia stepped out and leaned against the railing of the bedroom balcony, dressed in black leggings, a white shirt, and a soft denim jacket that would later pair with her boots. She took a few deep breaths and admired the beauty of the scenery before her before plucking her phone out of a pocket and moving her fingers deftly over the display, the cold morning air tinging her nose pink as her eyes scanned the information.

“Lia, you ready?” Noah’s voice called from behind.

“Yeah.” Lia turned to face him, hesitating for a moment before adding, “Noah?”

“Hm?”

“I found this exhibition...” She waved her phone slightly, her expression both eager and uncertain. “I thought we could go.”

“What kind of exhibition?” Noah asked, crossing the room to get a closer look at her phone screen.

“It’s a... Shibari exhibition,” Lia explained with a casual tone. But her gaze was watchful, eyeing Noah and unsure of what his reply would be.

Noah’s eyebrows lifted.

Before he could say anything, she quickly added, “I’d like to see it.”

For a moment, Noah simply studied her. Then, with a shrug and an easy smile, he spread his arms. “If you want to go, I’m in. Where is it?”

“Not far from Tokyo’s center,” Lia added, relief evident in her voice.

“Then let’s do it,” Noah said. He extended his hand toward her. “Shall we?”

No matter how full they still felt after the hearty breakfast at Grandma’s, the bustling energy of Tokyo’s center and the amount of cafés was enough to draw them in for another warm drink—and Lia’s fifth tamagoyaki of the day—. After stepping out of the cab and strolling through narrow streets lined with shops and neon signs, they stopped at a cozy café. They talked idly as the indulged in steaming sencha tea and they watched the city’s rhythm outside the window. Lia connected her phone to the café’s free Wi-Fi and googled their way to the exhibition venue. The map showed it was only a fifteen-minute walk, so they set off and managed to make it there without stopping in too many stores.

The venue was tucked away on a quieter street north of the city center, its sleek modern exterior standing out against the older buildings nearby. The gallery’s enormous windows offered glimpses of the artwork inside, making Lia and Noah pause by the first window, leaning close to peer in.

The gallery was expansive. The walls they could see were adorned by vintage, A4-sized photographs. Beneath each image, a foam block appeared to hold neat inscriptions in Japanese and English, perhaps with details about the photos. Deeper inside the venue, Noah and Lia caught flashes of different lights, red ropes and abstract installations.

Lia turned to Noah, biting her lip briefly but eyes sparking. She grabbed his hand and tugged.

“Let’s go.”

Noah smirked, charmed by her enthusiasm, and let her take the lead.

At the entrance, they were surprised to learn there was no fee. The receptionist, a woman in her forties with kind eyes and a nice smile, welcomed them. She handed each of them a brochure and explained the exhibition’s layout: the first section showcased historical photographs from the Edo period. The following ones contained suspended rope installations, live demonstrations, and at the end they would find a workshop space for learning basic knotting techniques, and even a literary and philosophical corner for quiet reflection. Souvenirs, books, and rope could be purchased at the store located at the very end of the exhibition.

“Feel free to explore at your own pace,” the woman added. “There’s a live demonstration that will start in about thirty minutes, near the back.”

Lia clutched her brochure, her eyes already scanning the gallery, while Noah gave the receptionist a polite nod before following Lia inside.

Initially, the vastness of the gallery and the weight of the artwork’s themes made Lia hesitate. She lingered near the first exhibit, a collection of photographs depicting the use of rope in Edo-period hojojutsu, a martial art once used for restraining prisoners. The photographs were stark and evocative, showing the artistry that elevated the utilitarian knots into something symbolic.

Lia felt Noah stiffen slightly beside her, adjusting his black cap, his posture reserved. She glanced up to see his brows furrowed in concentration, perhaps grappling with the unfamiliar context and maybe wondering the repercussions of someone spotting him there. Wanting to reassure him, she reached for his hand, intertwining her fingers with his.

Their eyes roamed over the photographs, analyzing the intricate interplay of shadow and light that emphasized the delicacy of the knots. One picture captured a prisoner kneeling with a calm expression, their arms bound behind them in an arrangement so precise it resembled a lattice of branches. Another photograph showed a ceremonial display of knots, the prisoner’s posture one of poised dignity despite their restrained state. Each knot seemed to convey a story of its own, involving control, power, but also elegance and care. It was strange and yet, fascinating.

“Look at this one,” Lia murmured, pointing to an image of a woman dressed in a kimono, her hands tied with a flourish that mirrored the folds of her garment. “It’s beautiful.”

Noah nodded, his brow still furrowed. “It is,” he admitted, his voice low, almost reluctant. “But looks complicated.”

They moved into the next section, where the gallery shifted from history to abstract art. Ropes hung suspended from the ceiling, looping and twisting in gravity-defying arcs. Some installations were simple, resembling waves or vines, while others were chaotic tangles that seemed to pulse with energy.

Lia stopped in front of one particularly piece—a massive web of crimson rope that seemed to expand and contract with the airflow in the room. At its center was a suspended a gold ornament, bound so intricately that it seemed to hover like a captured treasure.

“How the hell did they do this,” Noah muttered to himself, his curiosity breaking through his earlier reserve. He stepped closer, crouching slightly to observe the knots securing the installation to the floor and ceiling. “It’s flawless. If you pull at one knot, the whole thing would collapse.”

“Kind of like trust,” Lia said thoughtfully.

He glanced up at her, caught off guard by her comment.

“Yeah,” he said after a pause. “Like trust.”

They lingered for a few moments before following the signs toward the live demonstration. The corridor opened into a large space with seating arranged in a semicircle around a low platform. A few people were already gathered, chatting quietly or flipping through their brochures.

On the platform, a man and a woman prepared for the demonstration. The woman was standing in the center, barefoot and wearing a beige tight bodysuit. The man was dressed in simple black clothes. He was arranging coils of rope on a low table beside him.

Noah and Lia found a spot where to stand on the side, close enough to see the details but not so close as to feel conspicuous. Lia noticed Noah’s posture relax slightly as he leaned forward, his cap shielding his face from view momentarily as his arm rubbed at Lia’s shoulder.

Moments later, the room quieted and the demonstrator stepped forward, bowing slightly before addressing the audience.

“Thank you for joining us today. What you are about to see is a traditional art form that blends discipline and creativity. It requires trust, communication, and respect between the participants.”

A mix of curiosity and reverence settled over the room.

As the demonstration began, the audience watched. The demonstrator moved with a calm, rhythmic precision, guiding the rope around his partner’s arms and torso in fluid motions. Each knot was a statement, each loop a deliberate choice.

The demonstrator began with a length of smooth, red rope, holding it as though it were a living thing. He stepped behind his partner and guided her hands together at the small of her back. With a single motion, he looped the rope around her wrists, his fingers dancing as he secured the first knot.

The room had grown so quiet that the soft rustle of the rope against the woman’s skin was audible, every sound amplified in the stillness. The demonstrator wrapped the rope twice more, forming clean, parallel lines that looked as though they had been measured with a ruler. He paused briefly to check her posture, a silent exchange passing between them before he resumed his work, the ends of the rope weaving into a decorative knot that held the arrangement in place.

Lia felt her breath catch as she watched. The movements were hypnotic. She could feel Noah’s steady breathing behind her, as well as the way his chest rose and fell a little more deeply than before.

As the man finished securing the final knot, the woman flexed her fingers, the subtle movement testing the hold. The demonstrator stepped back, bowing slightly to acknowledge the completion of the first step. The woman returned the bow, her restrained hands adding an unexpected grace to the gesture.

The audience remained silent. The room felt charged, as though everyone was holding their breath in unison.

Lia shifted slightly, and that was when she noticed how close Noah had leaned in. She could feel the faint warmth of his breath near her ear, each exhale brushing softly against her skin. His heartbeat was steady but insistent, a subtle rhythm she could sense through the proximity of his body.

For a moment, the gallery and the audience faded away. All she could focus on was the quiet intensity of the scene before them, mirrored by Noah’s quiet intensity beside her. The blend of concentration and restraint in his posture made her wonder what he was thinking—if he was thinking the same things she was.

Lia felt her own pulse quicken, her fingers tightening on the edges of her brochure. She didn’t say a word, afraid that even the softest whisper might shatter the spellbinding stillness of the room. Instead, she turned her attention back to the platform, where the demonstrator was already preparing for the next sequence. But the sensation of Noah’s presence intensified.

“Do you find that interesting?” he murmured, his voice low and velvety so that only she would catch his words.

Lia, so absorbed in the intricate process before her, missed the subtle suggestion in his tone. She nodded earnestly, her eyes never leaving the scene. Behind her, Noah smiled, a sly curl of amusement tugging at his lips.

The rigger moved smoothly, his hands working with practiced ease to loop the red rope over the woman’s shoulders and around her chest, framing her torso in a symmetrical pattern. The interplay of rope against skin, the way it both restricted and enhanced her form, was mesmerizing to watch.

Noah, however, had shifted his focus to Lia.

His fingers slid down her arm, brushing her wrist lightly before curling around it. With deliberate slowness, he brought her hand behind her back. Lia hardly noticed, her attention still on the stage, until she felt him take her other wrist and guide it to meet the first.

Her breath caught in her throat.

The brochure dropped to the floor silently.

Noah’s chest pressed closer, his body shielding hers from the view of the other spectators. His hand, large and strong, held both of her wrists in a resistant grip. The grip wasn’t painful—just firm enough to keep her still, to make her heart skip a beat.

She tried to look back at him, but her cheek met his.

“Imagine we’re in the bedroom,” he whispered, his voice dipping into a husky timbre that sent heat pooling low in her belly. “And your hands are tied at your back. Like this.”

To emphasize his point, he tightened his grip just enough to make her gasp softly. The edge of sweet discomfort prickled through her awareness, and she was acutely conscious of how exposed they were.

“Can you picture it?” he asked.

“Yes,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Noah’s grin deepened, his teeth grazing the shell of her ear.

“Good. Would you be willing to do anything I say? While you’re tied up? Like her?”

“Yes.” Her answer was quick and breathless, her heart hammering in her chest as his words wove a spell around her.

His lips brushed the corner of her jaw, his breath hot against her skin.

“Can I be honest? I can picture it, too” his tone was so seductive that Lia had to press her thighs together. “I’ve pictured it so many times already. I’d make you get on your knees...” With his thumb he traced circles on the inside of her wrist. “And after that, I’d do whatever I want to you, with the only intention of pleasuring you. How does that sound?”

Lia’s pulse quickened, her lips parting.

Before she could speak, the rigger on stage gave a gentle tug to the ropes, shifting the model’s position. The sudden movement pulled Lia’s attention back to the demonstration, her cheeks flushed with both excitement and awareness of the people around her—and at the hard thing pressing against her back.

Back to her senses, she muttered, “you’re getting a boner, Noah.”

She was not facing him, but she could tell he had looked down at his own pants.

“Yes, I am. Shit.” He released her fast and adjusted his trousers, taking a single step away from her and looking around coyly.

Lia looked at him over her shoulder and nearly snorted. Noah send her a playful glare.

“Don’t worry,” he told her. “We’ll have time to finish this.”

As he stepped back slightly, giving her space, Lia felt the loss of his warmth but couldn’t quite shake the lingering heat of his words. She tried to get her attention back to the stage, trying to refocus, but her mind was already far away, spinning with possibilities Noah had just whispered into existence.

The demonstration ended and everyone clapped. A couple of minutes later, Noah and Lia walked hand in hand to the workshop section, where they tried to learn the basic of knots and ended up cracking up at clumsiness they both showed at it. Lia had stayed frozen for a full ten minutes trying to understand where the teacher had instructed to pull the rope through, and Noah had at least tried, only to get his own hands tangled in the mess of rope. Lia teased him about not having learnt anything from the book he had at home. He was quick to retaliate, stepping closer to nibble playfully at her ear, whispering that he hadn’t had anyone to practice with before.

“Now I have you,” he said, “and I plan on getting really good at it.”

At the souvenir shop afterward, they made a donation to support the various artists who had contributed to the exhibition. Lia bought a history book, paying for it along with a set of black-and-red cotton ropes that Noah dropped onto the counter.

“They might not let us take a katana home, but I’m sure there’s no problem with a few ropes,” he stated.

The day in Tokyo was eventful. They walked a lot, saw a lot, laughed a lot and shared plenty of kisses in hidden corners of the big city. They returned home with their hands full of bags and their feet aching, though the discomfort was soon forgotten when they sat down in Hana’s tea room. They enjoyed a quiet conversation with Grandma, recounting the things they’d done and seen—leaving out a few details, of course—as they sipped lukewarm tea before heading to bed.

Upstairs, with most of the lights in the house off and their shopping bags piled on the desk, Noah changed into his sleep shirt and sweats and waited for Lia to finish brushing her teeth in the bathroom.

He was about to flop on the bed when she called out to him.

“Noah, could you grab my sleeping shirt?” Lia’s voice came from the bathroom.

“You mean my shirt,” he replied with a hint of amusement, moving to her suitcase and rummaging around to retrieve it.

“It’s been mine for years now. You lost your chance to reclaim it long ago—” Her words trailed off as she entered the bedroom, only to freeze in place. She stood there in her bra and panties, and Noah, instead of holding her shirt, had something else entirely in his hands: the pair of kitty ears and the choker she’d impulsively bought in Osaka.

One in each hand, he lifted them slowly, inspecting them with raised brows.

“What... is this?” he asked, looking up at her, intrigued.

Lia’s shoulders slumped, her cheeks flushing.

“You weren’t supposed to see that.”

“Oh? And why not? What exactly are you planning to do with it?” He cocked an eyebrow, studying her reaction with growing interest.

She stepped forward, reaching to snatch them from his hands, but he quickly tucked them behind his back, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “Did you buy these for me?”

She huffed, barely hiding a reluctant smile. “Can you just forget you ever saw them and put them back, please?”

“No chance.”

“Noah!” she exclaimed, her tone halfway between a scold and a plea.

“I think I need to see you wearing these,” he murmured, lifting the kitty ears in one hand, his eyes then drifting to the choker in the other, as though savoring the thought.

Lia gave him a pointed look, her lips pressed together to hide her amusement. “You will. One day. But not here. Now, please—put it back?”

“Put it on.”

“Noah…”

He paused, then added with a gentler tone, “Alright. Then, let me put it on you.” His voice softened, but his eyes held a playful gleam that made it impossible to deny him.

She took a slow breath, biting her lower lip as she debated. Part of her wanted to let him have his way, but they were at Grandma’s house, of all places. However, she couldn’t deny how his expression—the mix of pleading and challenge—made her pulse quicken.

“You’re trouble,” she finally said, her tone half-resigned, half-amused.

Noah smirked, tempted to raise his fist.

“Turn around,” he commanded, his voice dipping into a more serious tone that sent a shiver down her spine.

Obediently, Lia turned. She started to lift her hair, but he was quicker, his fingers brushing along her nape in a deliberate, lingering caress. Her breath hitched as he fastened the choker, slipping it around her neck. His arms grazed her shoulders as he clasped it, and he gently tugged her hair free to let it cascade down her back.

When she turned to face him, her heartbeat thudding, she saw him struggling to maintain his composure. He handed her the kitty ears with a quiet intensity in his eyes. She took them, placing them on her head, pushing her long hair back with a shy smile.

As she stood there, arms falling to her sides, he took a step back to take her in fully. His gaze fell on the choker, and she saw the way his playful smirk vanished, replaced by something deeper, something raw.

“Fuck.”

There was a beat of silence. Lia blinked as she read his expression, then her eyes dropped to the bulge that had appeared down his front, and she felt a surge of power curse through her.

Yes, she thought. Fuck it.

Her hands went to the laces of his joggers, and the sudden motion snapped Noah out of his trance.

He caught her wrists. “No.”

She froze. She waited, her breath catching. Then he continued, his tone dropping lower, dripping with command.

“Get on your knees.”

Her stomach flipped. Oh, God.

Slowly, she sank to her knees, the soft carpet on the wooder floor brushing her legs as she looked up at him with brown doe eyes. Maybe it was a risk, but she took her hands back to his laces, and this time, he didn’t stop her. He let her undo them and pull his sweats down as he peeled his t-shirt off quickly, discarding it onto the floor. Lia pushed his underwear down, his cock springing free, thick and hard.

“You’re gonna suck me, right?” he asked with strain. “I need you to s—”

Lia cut him off by wrapping her fingers around the base of his length and lifting it slightly to drag her tongue along the underside. She started at the base, tracing the thick vein that pulsed beneath her touch, all the way to the head.

“Lia… Fuck.”

She took her time, savoring the weight of him in her hand, her tongue exploring every inch. When she finally began to bob her head, his sharp inhale was all the encouragement she needed. Everything that came out from his mouth after were moans and praise.

“That’s it. God,” he murmured, “the mouth you have…”

The pride that filled her was electric, and it must have shown in her eyes because Noah’s lips quirked into a grin even as he struggled to maintain his composure.

“You like that, Lia? You like sucking my cock?”

She couldn’t say yes—not with her mouth full—, so she doubled her efforts, hollowing her cheeks and taking him deeper. His features contorted as though caught between pleasure and pain, and she felt his fingers move to her head, his hands tangling in her hair as he helped guide her movements.

“Keep going, baby.” His words were choked, punctuated by grunts. “Just like that. Yes.”

He looked down at her again, thinking he must have done something extraordinary in his life to deserve this—to have such a beautiful girl on her knees with her mouth full of him. On top of that, her desire and enjoyment were palpable in every moment. Knowing he was making her happy by having her at his mercy ignited a possessive thrill that rushed through him.

His hands caressed her scalp, guiding her motions. Lia closed her eyes, her tongue working with deliberate twists and touches. She tried to take him deeper, twisting her tongue to draw more sounds from him, her confidence soaring with each groan that escaped his lips.

Then, with that voice of his, that low, deep tone that never failed to leave her weak, his hands tightened in her hair as she murmured, “You’re such a good girl.” The praise was so raw it almost undid her. Heat flooded her body as she thought she might come just from his words alone. “You look so pretty on your knees, baby.”

One hand slid from her hair to her chin, his touch gentle despite the fire in his eyes. He tilted her face upward, and as her lips released him, his cock slipped out of her mouth, a string of saliva connecting them. Her tongue darted out to lick it away before she bit her lip, wanting more.

“You’re driving me crazy,” he admitted, his voice rough as his dark gaze trailed to her neck and the baby pink collar still snug there. “I’m never letting you take that choker off.”

Lia thought he would let her finish him, that she’s have him falling apart in her hands—and mouths—but Noah had other plans. Taking himself in his hand, he helped her rise to her feet. His hands cupped her cheeks, pulling her into a kiss that stole her breath. He didn’t give a fuck about tasting himself on her lips.

The kiss was all-consuming, leaving her dizzy as he walked her backward toward the low bed.

Once her knees hit the mattress, he guided her down, his hands slipping to the waistband of her panties.

“Take off your bra.”

She obeyed without hesitation—she was Noah’s good girl—, unhooking the clasp and discarding the thin bra next to her. Noah tugged her panties down, tossing them aside before covering her body with his. He trailed a path of kisses from her lower belly to her chest, kissing and licking her nipples and then sucking at her neck at the same time his cock made its way inside of her, making her gasp and grab onto his shoulders.

With the friction of the bodies moving, the movements sent the kitty headband on her head slipping back. With a quick hand, Noah removed it, letting it rest on the pillow next to Lia’s head.

“The choker stays,” his voice declared against her ear. His voice was low, possessive, and his words were followed by another murmuring that sounded very much like a “you’re mine”. He buried his face in her neck and thrust into her again and again.

“Open your legs wider, Lia,” he urged. “That’s it. Good girl.”

She moaned in response.

“Say my name.” Noah instructed. It was a command, a desperate one. There was something raw in the way he said it—a need he couldn’t suppress. He needed to hear his name on her lips. Over and over and over.

“Noah, please.”

“Yes, Lia,” he groaned, his pace quickening. “Say it again. I’ll give you anything you want. Anything you need.”

“More, Noah. Please.”

He would give her more. He would give her everything.

“Lia.” His voice was a mantra as his lips found hers again.

“Noah,” she moaned, her eyes fluttering shut as her body surrendered.

“Lia,” he repeated.

“Yes,” she breathed. She was barely present, her words more a reflex than conscious thought.

“Lia, open your eyes,” he said, his voice softer now.

Her eyes fluttered open, and the world shifted.

Darkness enveloped the room, and her breath caught in her throat. Noah wasn’t on top of her anymore. He wasn’t naked—and neither was she.

He was lying on his side of the bed, propped on one elbow, his expression etched with concern as he patted her cheek.

“Lia,” he said softly. “Are you okay?”

Oh, Jesus…

“Were you having a nightmare?” He asked.

Lia’s hands shot to her neck, only to find there was no choker clasped around it. Her movement didn’t escape Noah’s notice, and his gaze narrowed suspiciously.

“Was someone hurting you?”

“N—no, nothing like that,” she stammered, shaking her head.

“That’s what I thought,” he added, his voice turning into something more of a tease, “because you were moaning my name.”

Lia froze. Uh, oh.

So… She had been having a wet dream.

And Noah knew.

“Wanna tell me what you were dreaming about?”

Before she could respond, his hand slipped under the covers and under the waistband of her pajama pants and panties. His fingers grazed her, and he cursed in surprise as they came away with slick.

“What the hell was I doing to you that got you this wet?” he asked, his voice rough now, desire flooding his tone.

Lia could only close her eyes, her lips curling into a satisfied smile as his fingers began to circle her clit.

“You’re not going to tell me?” He pressed.

She shook her head, biting her lip to suppress a moan.

“Maybe I won’t let you come, then,” he threatened, his tone playful but edged with real intent.

Her eyes flew open, shocked, and her hands moved instinctively to his wrist to keep his hand in place.

“It’s a surprise,” she said, her voice breathy as his fingers circled her clit again. She moved her hand to his crotch, then, where she was met with his obvious erection, cock straining against the fabric of his sweats.

“A surprise?”

“Yes,” she confirmed. “I promise to tell you once we’re back home.”

“And why can’t you tell me now?” His voice dropped, his curiosity turning almost predatory.

“Because if I tell you, I don’t think you’ll be able to keep it together. And Grandma is a few doors down.”

That obviously only heightened his interest, his eyes darkening with frustration and amusement in equal measure. But he trusted her. She was smart, and her reasoning—even if infuriating—was probably sound. He could still have her anyway, and he’d be content by just being inside of her and barely moving.

“Fine,” he relented, but a low escaped him as he added. “You’re lucky I’m a patient man and you’re adorable when you’re having wet dreams.”

That only made Lia blush harder as she playfully pushed at him.

His hands moved quickly from then, tugging at her waistband as she helped him out of his clothes. Pajamas and underwear were discarded with a shared urgency, their hands brushings and lips touching as they worked together.

When the last clothing barrier was gone, Noah retrieved a condom from nearby and rolled it on with ease. He settled himself between her thighs and under the quilt. His weight against her was always comforting, grounding.

The way he looked at her, like she was his entire world, made her pulse race.

“I’ll take this,” he murmured, “but you’re telling me everything as soon as we’re back in the States.”

And with that, he surged forward, capturing her lips in a kiss that silenced any response she might have given, the night stretching out before them in whispered sighs and muffled moans.

At the first stretch, Lia gasped. The first thrust never failed to make her brace herself against Noah’s shoulders, her fingers clutching for stability as she adjusted to the feeling of fullness. She had learned in their short time together as a couple that Noah always watched her intently in this moment. His expression conveyed so many emotions. His jaw was tight. There was a small wrinkle between his brows, and a dark unrelenting hunger in his eyes that contrasted with the careful gentleness of his love for her.

As he began to move, her body relaxed. It was a dance, a symphony of shared breaths and whispered sighs, their connection running deeper than just physical pleasure.

One of Noah’s hands slid to cradle the side of her head, his thumb brushing her forehead tenderly. With the other, he gripped her wrist and pinned her arm above her head. Lia let out a soft exhale and moved her free hand to rest beside the one he held captive, silently asking him to hold her completely.

Understanding, a cheeky smile curved Noah’s mouth. He pressed closer to her, meeting her yearning expression with one of his own before he dived to kiss her, teeth and tongue and all.

It was slow, but it spoke louder than words. The eye contact making both weak in each other’s arms. Not even five minutes into it, Lia wriggled her wrist and Noah released her hands. Her finger found Noah’s face, and she dragged a finger along his lips, wet from her kisses. He caught it between his teeth with a teasing bite before letting it go, his features contorting with rising pleasure.

“I’m not far,” he whispered, his voice tight.

“Me neither,” she managed. “Can you…?”

“Yeah.”

He knew exactly what she needed.

His fingers found her clit, rubbing as he increased his pace. He was tempted to cover Lia’s mouth with his other hand, but instead, he let it be, allowing the tension between them to coil tighter and tighter, their breathing growing ragged.

When Lia’s orgasm took hold of her, Noah thrust one last time, making her back arch even more. A loud sob escaped her lips, and that’s when Noah did cover her mouth, muffling the sound as his face buried itself in the curve of her neck. His body trembled with his release, spasms overtaking him as he spilled into the condom.

Lia’s body shuddered beneath him, her legs locking around his waist as she bucked against him, riding out the last ripples of her pleasure.

In the stillness that followed, Noah’s weight pressed her into the mattress, and she kept hugging him tightly, not ever letting go. For a long while, neither of them spoke.

Noah’s mind wandered, and in the quiet of the night, with Lia’s heart beating against his own, he reflected on their past and every step, every scratch and heartbreak that had led them inevitably to this moment.

Feeling more settled and thankful than ever, he whispered against her skin, “All my life, I was waiting for you without knowing it.”

Lia blinked, adjusting to the darkness in the room to find his eyes. Her fingers traced his face, her touch reverent as she admired the man he had become. “All those years,” she replied softly, “you deserved a better version of me.”

“It doesn’t matter what version I deserved,” he replied, his voice filled with conviction as he touched her pink cheek with the bend of his index finger. “I had you. I have you now, and I’ve loved every version of you.”

Her eyes welled with emotion as she leaned up, brushing her lips against his as she promised, “You’re mine, Noah.”

— prev. chapter | chapter fourteen

Taglist:

@somebodyels3 | @respectfulrebel | @thecoyotescry | @bluestdai | @lma1986

@sweetwombatpizza | @missduffsblog | @shilohrosechicken | @jilliemiw86 | @alwaysfightforwhoyouare

@chey-h | @ferduttini | @dominuslunae

#the inevitability of love at second sight #noah sebastian #noah sebastian fanfiction #bad omens #noah x lia #noah sebastian x ofc #noah sebastian fic

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kairiscorner · 2 years ago

Text

when grump meets grump <3

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

miguel x grumpy reader

now if there was anyone else feared upon in the spider society that wasn't named 'miguel o'hara', it was you. the moment you joined the spider society, everyone had a new face to fear.

every day was a challenge for the rest of the spider society, even jess and peter b couldn't go to your quarters without knocking and stating their name and business for coming there. if they wasted your time with an easy picking mission, or a bad joke, or at worst... a childish prank, they'd be squishes spiders in the next minute–or make that in the next five seconds.

you were serious about your job, no nonsense was allowed on your watch. you reminded everyone of a certain leader who was very particular with how things were run at HQ, and how fun was virtually dead when he was doing things his way.

but surprisingly...

"i hate him." you seethed as you clenched your fists, your eyebrows were furrowed as you scrunched up your nose, gritting your teeth. peter b spit out his coffee all over the table by accident, jess fetching a few napkins to clean it up.

"you... you hate miguel?" peter b asked, exasperated and... bewildered, if anything else. you nodded, slowly, as your eye twitched just the slightest at the mention of that damned man's name.

"he thinks he's the shit. honestly, what's wrong with him? why does he make everything about him? you've seen how he plans out the missions, he always delivers the finishing blow. he never lets anyone else do the work, it's always him, him, him!" you exclaim as you got up and threw the table down out of rage.

peter b yelped as jess grabbed him and brought the both of them to the side. they were... extremely surprised you didn't see eye-to-eye with miguel. they always believed that if they weren't miguel's closest allies, you'd be. but no. your rage and hatred for miguel subverted their expectations.

"so glad i never let them hold mayday..." peter b murmured. "well be glad if they don't hear you right no–" jess was telling him, until you turned your head with a scowl at them. "i could hear everything you two were saying, y'know." you warned them, which was their cue to leave.

you cooled down after a few hours, beating anomalies without anyone else holding you down or telling you what to do always hit the spot. but soon, the dreaded hour came.

a holographic image of miguel appeared on your watch, you tried your hardest not to look angry nor disgusted at the sight of him, even when masked. "report back to my office at HQ, we got a situation here." he said curtly, and before you could even ask what was so important that he had to call you, he hung up immediately.

you sighed and groaned in frustration as you opened up a portal to head back to HQ. the moment you stepped back into HQ, you were in miguel's office. you crossed your arms over your chest and raised an eyebrow.

"talk to me." you said in a monotonous voice as miguel turned around to look at you, confused. "why're you here?" he asked. you looked at him in disbelief. "o'hara, don't fuck with me. you called me earlier, dumbass." you reminded him, getting a little pissed off at him playing dumb.

miguel looked at you now in disbelief, turning around fully to face you as his platform slowly descended. you tapped your foot impatiently like a cartoon character. "last time i checked, you weren't from earth-8311. what's got you so impatient over nothing?" he asked in a tired voice.

you groaned. "you. you called me? jeez, i thought you of all people would know it's not hilarious to waste another person's valuable time with such stupid, insipid little pranks!" you exclaimed, angry, and a little embarrassed because miguel really did seem like he didn't know what you were talking about. could you have been wrong, for once in your life?

miguel put a hand up to stop your fuming self from framing him from any more allegations of him summoning you to his office. "i didn't call anyone, i was out fighting more variants of the vulture with jess and a new recruit. i didn't call for anyone else, except... dammit." miguel breathed out as he put a hand to his side and pinched the bridge of his nose with furrowed eyebrows.

"lyla!" miguel called for the ai assistant in an irritated voice. lyla showed up a little disheveled, she soon refreshed herself and came back looking more presentable. "what?" she asked as she looked at miguel, who looked at her a little... desperately.

"did you... did you call them?" miguel was asking lyla in a hushed voice, almost as if he did not want you to hear what they were talking about even if it concerned you.

lyla looked at miguel, then at you, then back at miguel, then back at you, then she smiled. she shrugged. "i did." she said in a cheeky, unenergetic voice.

miguel rubbed both of his temples and shut his eyes when lyla admitted she called you. you pit your hands on your hips and raises an eyebrow, still unsure of what was going on.

"but why?" miguel asked in a slightly nervous tone. "you know never to call their line unless... it's absolutely necessary." he reminded lyla, who laughed a little at that.

"i was just doing what you told me to do, test out your automated answering system for video calls. it was arbitrary, just so happened to call them with an automated response. no biggie." she said with a smile and a shrug as miguel looked like he was about to combust out of frustration towards her.

"so what is it? why'd you call?" you asked in an expectant voice, looking at miguel who tried to appear brave, but instead, appeared remorseful.

"i... i didn't call you here." he admitted, looking at you then back away. "lyla was testing out the beta stages of a project i have, um, it was an arbitrary choice, really, just so happened to call you by accident and didn't get to tell you it was a beta test. i'm sorry, for wasting your time and energy for coming here." he apologized.

your eyes widened as you looked at him. "you... apologized?" you asked with a tone of surprise. "you, miguel o'hara, apologized to me?" you asked incredulously as lyla was taking videos of this moment.

miguel put his hands to his hips, hung his head, and nodded. "yeah." he said with a click of his tongue as he looked back up at you. "i'm sorry." he said, and though it was hard to distinguish it from sarcasm or sincerity, miguel really was being sincere with his apology for wasting your time.

you stared at him, you refused to believe he was being honest. "and why would you apologize? i thought everyone here was expected to bow down to you, mr. o'hara." you asked, putting up your cold front.

"well... if you must know, um..." miguel stuttered, trying to find the right words, when lyla finally spoke up on his behalf. "your badassness scares him shitless. he hates having to piss you off because he wants to keep living." she said, and as miguel lunged forward to shut her up, lyla moved from one side of his to the other. "that, and he thinks you're super hot, so there. toodles." she said as she logged off as miguel was going to lunge at her again. he cussed under his breath as you took in what lyla said.

"is it true?" you asked him, your tone softening. he turned around to face you, and looked at you with a nervous expression. "do i... scare you?" you ask miguel as you approached him. he loomed over you, but you always found ways to subdue your opponents–miguel never wanted you to see him as one. in fact, he wanted you to look at him as the complete opposite, really.

"um... yes." he admitted, looking down at the ground. "but, you also find me attractive?" you ask, which sends a warmth through miguel's cheeks. "i... i kinda do." he mutters as he looks away from you.

you put a hand on his chin as you made him look at you, gently turning his face to look at you. "oh, well don't just look away from someone after you confess to them, that's very rude." you said with a joking air.

miguel looked at you, his eyes wide as he saw, for the first time, a playful look on your face that had no malice, no anger, no... grump in it. "i may be grumpy and serious, but that doesn't mean i'm heartless." you tell him as you squeeze his cheeks together.

"man, who'd've thought a big, commanding man such as you was actually scared of little old me? now that just makes me blush." you said with a small laugh as a rosy blush slowly appeared on your cheeks, miguel's blush deepening.

"so, do you... do you feel the same way?" he asks you, pretty hopeful of your answer. you shrug. "i did just admit to jess and peter b how much i hated the way you made everything in missions about you... but maybe you did that because you hate having someone telling you what to do. i hate that too, actually." you say with a grin.

"i kinda like the cut of your jib, o'hara. maybe... maybe you and i can come around to a compromise on our, well..." you trailed off as you searched for the right words.

"attitude problems." lyla chimed in as she disappeared just as immediately as she came in. miguel groaned as you chuckled. miguel smiled up at you. "yeah, maybe we can... take a break from being such grumps." he said.

"hey, you're the grump–i'm always the right one, you know that." you tell him as you give him a sly look.

"is that right now?" miguel asked sarcastically as he smiled at you.

maybe both of your grumpiness would only be a sometime thing now, hopefully.

tags!! @miguelswifey04

#atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara fanfiction #spider man 2099 #atsv spiderman #atsv #atsv imagines #atsv x reader #atsv x y/n #atsv x you

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