#night agent imagine

[importantstudentbusinessspy-blog]

The Night Agent Imagine

Pairing: Peter Sutherland x (f)reader

Tags: mostly fluff, slight NSFW, hurt/comfort, injury, danger

Peter was running faster than he ever had before.

Five minutes ago, his phone had lit up with your name, your nervous, frantic whisper immediately setting his pulse racing.

"Peter," you sniffled, the sound distorted over the line. "There's someone outside the safe house."

He clutched the phone tighter, his voice firm but calming as he broke into a sprint. "I'm on my way. Stay calm. Don’t hang up."

"Please hurry," you breathed, the fear in your voice driving a knife into his chest.

He forced his tone to stay steady, even as panic clawed at him. "It's going to be okay, Y/N. Take a deep breath for me."

You obeyed, the shaky sound of your inhale making his heart ache.

"Good," he said, reaching his car and yanking the door open. Sliding into the driver’s seat, he turned the ignition with a snap and peeled out of the grocery store parking lot. "Do you still have eyes on them?"

"Yes," you swallowed audibly. "They - I think they’re going door to door."

His mind raced, recalling your room number and the motel’s layout. "Listen carefully. Lock the doors to the bathrooms and closets from the inside. Just like we practiced."

"Okay." He heard the faint sound of doors clicking shut.

"Good. Now, do you remember where I hid the handgun?"

"Behind the mini-fridge," you answered quickly.

"Go take it."

A pause. "Okay… I have it."

"Remember the safety-"

"Right. Safety off."

"No—no." Peter spoke carefully. "Turn it off only if you need to use it."

"Right. Sorry."

"You’re okay. You’re doing great." His tone softened, an edge of warmth cutting through the tension. "I’m almost there, sweetheart."

You sighed, a tremor of relief washing through you. "Okay."

He pressed harder on the accelerator. "Now, the windows are big enough to fit through. There’s a small drop down to the back of the motel. You remember the route?"

You moved to the window, your breath hitching as you looked down. "Oh my God."

"Listen to me," Peter said firmly, his voice anchoring you. "You need to be brave for me, okay? I know you can do it."

"Okay, okay. I can do it," you whispered, steadying yourself.

A crash echoed from somewhere in the building, and you jumped, gasping. "Peter!"

"You have to jump. I’m almost there."

The urgency in his voice pushed you forward. Bracing yourself, you stepped out, the ground rushing up to meet you. The impact was harsher than you expected, pain shooting through your knee as it scraped against the gravel. "Ah!" Your hand shot to cover your mouth as you pressed yourself against the wall, holding your breath and scanning the shadows.

No one followed.

"I’m outside, Peter," you whispered into the phone.

"Yes!" His relief was palpable. "I told you you could do it. Now, you need to get away from there. Head west. I’m turning into the neighborhood."

Nodding, you hobbled forward, careful to keep your steps quiet despite the strain on your injured knee. Blood soaked through your jeans, and you bit back a wince.

You’d made it a safe distance from the motel when a hand grabbed you, yanking you behind a tree. A scream bubbled in your throat, but then you saw him - Peter, his index finger pressed to his lips.

Relief crashed over you, your knees threatening to buckle as you slumped into his arms.

"Are you hurt?" he whispered, his worried eyes scanning you before locking onto your bloodied knee. His jaw tightened. "Shit."

"It’s fine -" you said quickly. "It’s just a scratch."

His lips pressed into a thin line. "I’ll check it later. Let’s go."

Before you could protest, he scooped you into his arms, carrying you toward the SUV.

"You don’t have to carry me - "

"It’s swollen. You shouldn’t walk on it," Peter cut you off, his tone brooking no argument.

Gently, he lowered you into the passenger seat, buckling your seatbelt with care before rushing to the driver’s side.

The car roared to life as he drove out of the woods with practiced ease, his focus unwavering. His knuckles were white against the steering wheel, a testament to his frustration and concern.

"I shouldn’t have left you alone," he said, his voice tight with regret. “I’m sorry."

"It’s alright, Peter. I’m fine."

But the tension in his jaw said otherwise.

After nearly an hour of driving, he pulled onto a narrow road, parking in front of a modest apartment building.

"This is my friend’s place," he explained, turning off the engine. "She’s working abroad, but I have a key."

You nodded, ignoring the unexpected pang of jealousy that flared in your chest. A friend? Close enough to lend him a key? You immediately chastised yourself. It was ridiculous to feel this way. You’d known him for only a few days. So what if he was strong, protective, and impossibly kind? He was just doing his job.

Still, the thought lingered as you reached for the door handle.

"Stay here," he said, already stepping out and shutting the door behind him.

Your pulse spiked at the sudden isolation, but before you could dwell on it, your door opened again, and Peter leaned in, scooping you into his arms.

"Peter - "

"Don’t argue," he said firmly, carrying you up the stairs.

Inside, the apartment was small but tidy, the kind of space meant for someone always on the move. It lacked personal touches - no photos or decorations - but it was clean and functional.

Peter’s first move was to sweep the place, gun drawn, checking every room before closing the curtains. When he shut the main window, you caught a glimpse of the National Mall in the distance.

"We’re in the city…" you muttered.

"Hiding in plain sight," he confirmed.

You tried to take a step but winced as pain flared through your knee, a sharp gasp escaping your lips.

Instantly, Peter was at your side, his hands cupping your face. His worried blue eyes searched yours, his thumb gently brushing your cheek.

"It’s… it’s my leg," you stammered, heat rushing to your face. "It hurts more than I thought."

"We need to disinfect it," he said, his voice low and steady as he lifted you again, carrying you into the bathroom. He set you down carefully on the edge of the tub, his touch never wavering.

"If it hurts to move it, I’ll need to cut your jeans. Is that okay?"

You nodded, biting your lip against the pain. "Do it."

From the first aid kit, he pulled out a pair of scissors and began to cut, careful not to jostle you. He peeled back the fabric, revealing the swollen, bloodied mess of your knee.

"This might sting," he warned, turning on the showerhead. Warm water cascaded over the wound, and the sharp sting made you inhale sharply through gritted teeth.

"I know," he murmured, his focus unwavering. "Be patient for me, sweetheart."

His voice was soothing, grounding you as he worked. You closed your eyes, forcing yourself to breathe through the burn.

When the wound was clean, he knelt in front of you, examining your knee with meticulous care. His hands were steady, his touch firm yet gentle as he tested your mobility.

"It’s not broken," he finally declared, relief in his voice. "But you’ll need a few stitches and plenty of ice."

"Stitches?" you echoed, dread lacing your tone.

His eyes met yours, steady and reassuring. "Just a few."

"Please tell me there’s morphine in that kit," you half-joked, half-pleaded.

For the first time, Peter’s lips quirked into a small smile, a rare crack in his stoic demeanor. "It’s a gateway drug, you know?"

You groaned. "Thats fine. I’d still prefer to stop feeling what I’m feeling right now."

The morphine worked quickly, leaving you dazed and floating by the time he tied the final stitch. He wrapped your knee in gauze with practiced precision, helping you stand.

"How do you feel?" he asked, his blue eyes scanning your face.

"Better," you murmured, though the painkillers made you feel pleasantly drowsy.

"I’ll get you something to change into," he said, disappearing briefly before returning with a pair of shorts and a T-shirt - both his.

The sight of his clothes in his hands made your brow lift. He cleared his throat, avoiding your gaze.

"I figured you might be tired of wearing strangers’ clothes," he muttered.

You smiled softly. "I am. Thanks."

You didn’t hesitate to strip off your borrowed flannel, leaving it in a heap on the floor. His T-shirt was warm and soft, and you all but drowned in its oversized fabric. The gym shorts hung low on your hips, and you had to tie them tight to keep them up. They smelled faintly of him - clean, woodsy, and safe.

Exhaustion hit hard as you limped to the living room, collapsing onto the couch. The cushions were soft and inviting, and within moments, you drifted into a dreamless sleep.

When you woke, the room was dark, illuminated only by the warm glow of the kitchen light. The air smelled delicious - sweet and comforting.

Peter stood at the stove, his hair was wet, falling in messy wrinkles across his forehead, his sleeves rolled up, a spatula in hand.

"I’m no chef," he said, glancing at you with a small smile. "But I figured you can’t go wrong with French toast." he shrugged, bringing you a plate.

You moved, noticing the icepack on your knee. He must had placed it while you were sleeping.

Peter brought over a plate of golden-brown French toast, the faint smell of cinnamon and sugar filling the air. He set it on the coffee table in front of you, but his eyes lingered as you shifted to sit up. The warmth of the gesture made something stir in your chest - and you reverted to your favorite defense mechanism - humor.

"You didn’t have to cook for me," you said in an exaggerated tone.

He chuckled, shaking his head, biting his tongue. "Just shut up and eat your toast." His tone quiet as usual. His eyes flicked briefly to your bandaged knee, but the weight of his gaze on you lingered.

For a moment, neither of you said anything. The silence wasn’t awkward, though - it felt charged, heavy with unsaid words. You couldn’t help but notice the way the dim kitchen light played across his features, sharpening the curve of his jaw, highlighting the flecks of gold in his blue eyes.

"You’re staring," he murmured, a flicker of amusement tugging at his lips.

Heat rushed to your cheeks, and you dropped your gaze. "No im not."

"Whatever you say," he said, leaning back against the couch.

There was something in the way he said it - soft but deliberate. You glanced up at him again, and this time, he was the one staring. His eyes held yours, steady and unflinching, and you swore the space between you felt smaller than it had moments ago.

"Peter…" you started, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I was just messing with you," he said, cutting you off gently. "Trying to lighten the mood."

"You dont have to." The words slipped out before you could stop them. "I mean, I feel safe with you."

His expression softened. "Good. You should."

The air between you grew heavy. You couldn’t look away. Cursing yourself. It was just like you to develop a crush on a guy you had just met.

Your breath hitched as he reached up, his hand brushing a stray strand of hair from your face.

Fuck it, You thought. If you'd learned anything in the past couple of days is that you don't live forever.

"Peter…" you whispered, your voice barely audible.

"Yeah?"

You hesitated for only a moment before leaning toward him, your hand brushing against his arm. His breath hitched, his eyes widening slightly as you closed the distance between you.

"Uhmm," your voice trembled. "Can I...?"

God, yes. He swallowed hard, comflict evident in his eyes.

If you only knew how he wanted to kiss you. He got a total of four hours of sleep in the last week working for people he didn't even know he could trust. Hell, for all he knew, you were the only person he could trust. And even then-

You closed the gap, pressing your lips to his. "I can hear you overthinking."

For a moment, he didn’t move, as though the weight of his internal battle had frozen him in place. But then his hand found your waist, hesitant at first, before pulling you closer onto his lap, careful around your injury.

It wasn’t the desperate, frantic kiss you’d imagined in your head. It was slow, careful, like he was afraid to break you. Yet there was an intensity beneath it, a heat that built with every second as his resolve crumbled.

When he pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, his breathing was unsteady.

"This…" he started, his voice rough. "This isn’t what I should be doing."

You murrmered, planted soft kisses along his jaw, down his throat, he gasped in your ear. "You can tell me to stop, and I will."

You felt him shake his head. There was your answer.

[loolilyumm]

The night we met

[baestruly]

hi babe!! so glad I found your page bc I’ve been searching for Peter writers🤭🤭 anyway, could I request a blurb of Peter coming home after a long day and just having a quiet, cozy night in with reader?🫶

( 𝗌𝗒𝗇𝗈𝗉𝗌𝗂𝗌 )  peter sutherland x fem!reader

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ IN WHICH after a long day, you and peter finally get to see each other

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 - fluff

you sat on the couch in your apartment, staring mindlessly at pointless tv as your half opened book lay on the side table. you got home around about an hour ago, deciding to leave everything productive that you had to do for another time. 

almost dozed off, your eyelids threatening to cloud over your vision, the faint rattling of the door emits. you smile to yourself, knowing peter was home. it felt like forever since you’ve seen him even though it was just this morning. it’s been a long day. 

you feel a warm hand on your shoulder, close to the nape of your neck, peter’s lips on the crown of your head. 

“i missed you today.” he softly whispered into your hair, making you chuckle lazily. 

“every day you say this.” 

peter chuckles, coming around the couch and running the same hand down your face and tucking the messy strands behind your ear. 

“have you eaten?” 

“mhm. i left leftover pasta salad for you in the fridge.” you replied.

“i’d much rather be here.” you can hear the smile on his face, as he pulls the blanket over the both of you, kissing your forehead (again) and you hummed in response, laying your head on his hard chest and watching the mindless tv.

“what even is this?” he laughs, “here, i’ll change it for you, what do you want to watch, princess?” 

you raised your eyebrow at his nickname he rarely brought out—you turned your head to look up at him, the warm orange hues of the candle flickering around you and reflecting into peter’s eyes. his eyes shined with more than just the candle, they spoke with love and admiration as both of your eyes ran softly across each other's features. 

“i don’t care.” you leaned up, hand now on his chest as you placed a gentle kiss on his lips. 

he immediately responded, cradling the back of your head as he sits up, moving his mouth with yours softly, everything about this moment was so, so soft. you were at peace.

his thumb runs up and down your jaw before you both pull away — picking up on the fact you were too tired to even keep your head up right, and to be fair, he was exhausted too. 

you two beam at each other, laying your head back to it’s rightful spot on peter’s chest as your eyes close almost immediately, the flickering auburn light and peter’s steady breaths with the amount of head he provided for you lulled you to sleep. 

but just before darkness takes over, you hear peter whisper, his finger twirling an extra piece of hair he never tucked behind your ear, around his finger, “i love you, (y/n).”

 masterlist peter sutherland masterlist

[igotanidea]

Strictly professional: Peter Sutherland x reader

A/N: I am so - so - SO sorry for not writing the previous request, but this story has been stuck in my head since I've finished reading "the night agent" book and since I've had a literal dream about as follows!

***

He had read the case.

He had memorised the whole case, letter by letter.

And what was nothing short of shocking was that nowhere in the whole file appeared the name of the person who he was assigned to protect.

Being thorough as he always was, Peter immediately started thinking that this was suspicious, but despite his better judgement, decided to let it go. At least for the moment.

For the very short moment that took getting from the office to the so-called crime scene.

And then it all became painfully clear.

They knew.

Of course they knew.

That was why they wiped out even the single letter of her name from the documents.

Y/N.

Never in his wildest dreams, he wouldn't think that such a blessing (or a curse, or maybe both) will happen to him.

Y/N. his Y/N. The one who got away. Or - more likely - the one he let slip through his fingers despite having such intense emotions about.

Sitting in the ambulance, shaking a little from the shock, with a blanket on her shoulders and being tended to by the paramedics.

Peter was rooted to the ground, keeping the distance until he would be able to keep things professional, but even from afar he could see the scope of her injuries.

Bruises on the cheek, a shot wound to her shoulder, scratches on her arms and some cuts and minor bleedings on her legs.

At that moment, agent Peter Sutherland stopped being a pacifist.

Though he could not stand in the bushes forever.

"Agent Peter Sutherland. I will take it from here." he flashed his badge towards the paramedic but truly, it did not make the impression he was hoping for. At least not with the medic.

"Peter?"

"Y/N."

"Didn't know you''d be here."

"Well me neither. Funny huh?" it sounded way harsher than intended, definitely lacking the humor, and he flinched involuntarity as a flash of hurt reflected in her eyes. She's been through hell and he was acting like an asshole.

"Well, let the record show I did not do this to get your attention." Despite the circumstances she was still able to produce a sarcastic joke.

Peter cracked a crooked half-smile.

"It's good to see you though. In spite of -" she didn;t have to finish that sentence, and to be honest, neither of them wanted to hear the other half of it.

"How bad does it hurt?" he kneeled in front of her, cupping her chin to take a close look at her face, using one of manipulating skills to prevent her from trying to fool him. She was capable of messing around with people's heads, but he was the exception to the rule.

"I've had worse-"

"Y/N."

"I'll live."

"Not what I asked about."

"God, you didn;t change a single thing. still so dramatic--"

"How bad?"

"6/10."

"You're coming with me."

"What-- wait, what?"

"I'm sorry, sir, but we are not done with --" the paramedic tried to intervene but his will of fight suddenly decreased when Peter stood up towering over the little man.

"From what I see, she is all patched up. And from what I can judge, the last thing she needs is a fuss being made over her. I'm taking her with me."

"Peter, what-"

"Seriously, Y/n/n, we don;t have time for this. Now, are you coming or would you rather expose yourself to the FBI vultures who are just waiting to pounce on you asking for details of the events?"

"Aren;t you the FBI vulture as well?"

"No."

"No? So you won;t be asking me every detail I might have noticed?"

"I will. But with me, you won;t be locked in the deposition room."

"Tempting."

Peter barely held back from rolling his eyes.

"Ok, enough, you jokester. Up."

"You cannot command me and - Peter!"

"Sir! Careful! her injuries-"

"I got her."

He picked her up effortlessly, like a kid and carried back to the black SUV, placing on the passenger seat, fastening the belts, letting his fingers linger by her waist for a moment too long.

"So much for being discreet, right?"

Peter did not respond, taking the driver's seat and kicking the engine. His eyes were focused on the road and the surroundings making sure that whoever hurt her - whoever stalked her - was not in sight. The only sign of emotions buzzing in him were slightly clenched jaw and hands squeezing the steering wheel.

"Peter-"

"Don't.

She sighed. So many unspoken words were filling the space between them that it became almost crowded.

But what was to say?

Nice to see you? I missed you? We made a mistake?

God knows they both did miss each other, but admitting that out loud was way too dangerous given the circumstances.

It was like giving the greatest asset out to the enemy, whoever the enemy may be.

"Where are we going?"

"My place."

"Your place?!"

Mistake. Her little outburst made him turn his eyes on her and just for a second she saw a little too much than needed and wanted. Just for a brief moment, before his eyes lost the vulnerable, adoring gleam and became sharp and focused again.

"Yes. You got something against it?"

"What? No, no, not a single thing. Good as any other place, right?"

It wasn't like every square inch of this apartment was filled with memories of them.

This was going to be a long, long night.

And a long, long time since this case would be over.

but this was not a romcom.

It was scrictly professional, with no feelings involved.

At all.

to be continued

[jks1uv]

𝐴𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝐻𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠 ; peter sutherland | one-shot |

summary: the hours after peter's night shift are definitely better than the hours during.

pairing: shygf!fem!reader x teasingbf!peter sutherland.

trope: established relationship.

genre: fluff + romance.

warnings‼️: suggestive (kissing, making out, touchy feely while kissing, etc.) but still sfw.

word count: 1,149.

random disclaimerrr: been on this train since 2023 😝 HE GOT EVEN FINER HELP 😭😛 he got me jumpin’ like boom shaka-laka boom shaka-laka ohhh 😛 happy reading! ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ ♡ © 2025 @jks1uv

You’re in that baby pink silk set he likes. It’s nothing fancy; just a spaghetti strapped cami top with a lacy outline and a pair of matching shorts.

He likes it because of how you look in it.

The baby pink brings out your skin, makes it appear glowy. Your eyes pop out and contrast with the shiny material nicely.

All claims of pure flattery but it’s all for you.

Color theory is real and Peter is living proof of that.

You lean against the doorframe with your arms crossed, watching your boyfriend wearing that outfit you like.

A tight-fitted navy blue long-sleeved shirt paired with the softest grey sweatpants ever.

His hair is dried up from the shower he took earlier and you can still smell the hotel citrus mixed with hints of his Polo cologne.

You think about how good he looks; a clean shave giving him the softest, smoothest face. He's currently manspreading on a chair, looking over some documents placed in his lap.

His biceps entice you to look, to stare and admire.

His strength has always captivated you. The attraction is deeply rooted in the way he makes you feel safe.

The tattoos decorating his arms fuel your fascination.

His sleeves are pulled up a bit, revealing a taste of his forearms and its veins. Peter rakes a hand through his hair and rubs the back of his neck, deep in thought.

The muscly arms make another appearance and you can't take it anymore.

You walk over and hike yourself up on the table, right beside his pile of papers.

“I was wondering when you were gonna stop staring at me creepily and say what’s on your mind.” He comments without looking up from the file.

You look down and play with the hem of your top, growing shy at his observation. A small smile lines your lips and you don't dare meet his gaze when he sighs and sets the file down beside you.

He stares at you for a moment before continuing. “Penny for your thoughts?”

“I'm good on pennies, actually. But, thank you.” You murmur.

Peter slides his chair in front of you and you don't miss the way his legs are still far apart, like he's expecting you to step down and sit down any moment now.

He’s leaned back all nice and comfortable, watching your every move.

He notices your eyebrows twitch up a bit when he fills your line of sight. He doesn’t miss the way you’re still fiddling with the hem of your top, trying to occupy your mind. Peter sees the way your wandering eyes light up when he’s giving you attention.

He decides not to tease you anymore and leans forward. His hands are on your knees, pushing them apart so he can stand in between them.

Your spine straightens itself and you slowly breathe in when he brings his face closer.

You’re acutely aware of his hands being on either side of you, caging you in.

You blink up at him and meet those chocolate eyes.

“Don’t go all shy on me now.” He’s soft with his teasing.

You smack your teeth and can’t help the grin that graces your lips. Your head tilts back a bit but he’s persistent; he tracks its movements.

Peter bumps his nose into yours, provoking you to meet him all the way.

You want to kiss him but you’re too shy to make the first move.

If only you were a telepath.

“You gonna kiss me or what?” He’s bold with his demands.

You pretend to mull over the thought, shrugging slightly and humming in uncertainty.

“Uh huh.” He says, obviously not buying it.

Testing the waters, Peter leans in just a bit to keep you guessing.

You have your gaze set on his plush lips and you think about how soft they look. Inviting, too.

You lean in thoughtlessly and he can’t find it in himself to deny you.

He finally kisses you and you sigh in relief.

You blindly wrap your legs around him and pull him in, your fingers run through his hair and he groans at the contact.

The vibrations make your lips tingle a bit and you meekly chuckle, breaking this kiss.

“I can’t stand you.” Peter breathlessly admits.

You both know he’s all bark and no bite but you’re curious.

“Why not?” You ask.

“You’re so…” He looks back and forth at your eyes and is captivated by your honey flavored lips.

“Distracting.” He settles on this but you are, and you know it.

“You’re wearing that set that you know I like,” He rubs the soft material against his thumb.

“And the chapstick.”

“What about it?”

It’s a Burts Bees moisturizing lip balm but with a new flavor: honey. You knew he’d like it but you didn’t expect this reaction from him.

“It’s nice.” He whispers before pressing a chaste kiss to your soft, sweet lips.

He grips your waist and lifts you up, you resume your previous position and wrap yourself around him; cocooning your body into his.

He steps backwards and plops down on the bed, worshipping you.

His touch is electric, fingers dip under your shirt and sprout goosebumps in their wake. His knuckles gently caress your hips before squeezing them with affection.

Your heart flutters at his actions and you’re putty in his hands. Your eyes close involuntarily and you sigh and gasp as the last bits of consciousness whither away at his touch.

His forehead presses against yours and you feel his silent notions of care and adoration for you. Peter kisses down your jaw and can’t control the sparks of devotion that lick into your skin.

You’re overwhelmed with emotion by his affection, by his kisses. By him.

It’s as if a heavy weight is set on your chest and can’t be lifted unless you speak.

You take charge of the moment by tilting your head back and angle his face away from your neck.

His pupils dilated to the max combined with his rosy cheeks makes for a pretty sight.

“What’s wrong?” He whispers.

Peter adjusts you in his lap and the way he handles you with such care and strength has you craving for more.

“Nothing, I just…”

You leave the ghost of a trail on the apples of his cheeks and his warm hand comes up to envelop it. He kisses the side of your palm and it makes you giddy inside.

“I just really like you. A lot.”

He blinks as a warm smile spreads over his face. He stares up at you for a second before gently pushing you down onto the bed.

Your excitement shows in your squeals and giggles as he leaves kisses all over your face and holds you close to him.

The hours after his night shift are the best hours of his life, he thinks.

[underoospeterparker]

peter distracting his princess while shes trying to study for an exam. needy peter basically

i think this is for peter sutherland but i thought it would fit peter parker too so you can read it for either <3

"baby," peter whined softly, turning your chair to face him. "you've been studying for ages. can we cuddle?"

you giggled, cupping his face in your hands. "are you four?" you asked, half joking and half serious.

he pouted. he literally pouted and you burst out laughing; a loud, wheezing one that made your boyfriend's face brighten.

"just a little longer. please?" you gave him your best puppy dog eyes and he finally relented.

"fine," he said, pressing a kiss on your forehead. "come outside in 20 minutes."

an hour later, your boyfriend slammed open the door again. you pretended like you didn't notice peter glaring at you from across the room, and you stayed silent until he gave up.

he closed your laptop lid with so much force you thought it would break. "have you seen the time?" he asked you angrily.

you lifted your eyes from your closed laptop to his face, eyes slightly watering. at this, his entire demeanour shifted, face softening and eyebrows creasing, a look of worry prominent on his face. "what's wrong?" he asked, panicked. "did i do something? sweetheart, i-"

your face betrayed you, lips curling into a smile at his concern even though nothing had happened. your giggles turned to screams as peter picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder.

"peter!" you shrieked, still laughing. "what are you doing?"

"kidnapping you," he grinned. "you've been studying for so long, i think you've gone a bit mental."

[theosphobia]

rlly bad doodle based off dog bed caboose hc...

[promptsforiinspo]

someone pls write a fic where the reader and peter were together when they were younger but grew apart bc peter distanced himself (maybe after his dad's death he shut her out?) she was never told why he just disappeared from her life with no explanation. A few years down the line, she's the one who rings night action - maybe a slight lovers to enemies to lovers.

Maybe the reader being reluctant to go with peter because he broke her trust, but having no choice in the matter as its an order from the president. Following on from the car chase scene, the reader tries to patch up the cut on her forehead bc she's too stubborn to let peter do it. My mind is going crazy with ideas, feel free to message me and I can help with ideas <3

[ice-man-goes-bwoah]

1K Celebration 🎉 Mini Drabble Game!

I can’t believe we hit 1,000 followers—thank you all so much for the love and support 🥹💖 To celebrate, I’m doing a short & sweet drabble game!

Thank you so much for getting me to 1k I have a few others posted mood board celly sleepover celly faiths mini games celly faiths smut mini Drabble celly

📩 How to Play—

Send me—

➡️ A number from 1–330

➡️ A character (or ship) of your choice

➡️ Male reader/Female reader/gender neutral reader/autistic reader

➡️ [Optional: a vibe or emotion you’d like to see!]

Each number corresponds to a surprise prompt (from fluff to angst to maybe a little spice 👀), and I’ll write a mini 100-500 word drabble for your request!

💌 Example: “#4 from General Romance/Fluff Prompts with Carlos Sainz!”

🌸 Fandoms: [Marvel/formula one/hockey/the night agent/Sinners/Smallville/supernatural/WWE]

Let’s have some fun 💫 and thank you again for being here with me!!

➡️ Asks are open now!

Just use 🎉 in your message when requesting so I know it’s for the 1k celly

💕 General Romance/Fluff Prompts

“I missed you.

Caught in the rain

First kiss

Jealousy, badly hidden

Holding hands under the table

“You make me nervous.”

Forehead kisses

Falling asleep together

“Are you blushing?”

Sharing a hoodie

“Stay with me tonight.”

Accidentally falling asleep on the other’s shoulder

“You remembered?”

One of them taking care of the other while they’re sick

Tracing the other’s scars/freckles/tattoos with gentle fingers

Slow dancing in the kitchen at midnight

“You talk in your sleep.”

Kissing their knuckles one by one

“You make me feel safe.”

Helping the other with a tie/jewelry/hair

“Come here, let me fix that.”

Nose kisses that end in giggles

“I didn’t know where else to go.”

Tucking a blanket around them when they fall asleep

Making each other laugh during a serious moment

Soft, sleepy morning cuddles

“This reminded me of you.”

Sharing a bed for the first time

Wearing each other’s clothes

“Can I kiss you?” whispered like a secret

👫 Friends to Lovers – Romance/Fluff Prompts

“I missed you.”

“You make me nervous.”

“Are you blushing?”

Jealousy, badly hidden

Falling asleep together during a movie night

Sharing a hoodie “because you’re always cold”

Helping them get ready for a date… with someone else

One of them confesses by accident—and immediately panics

“You’re the most important person in my life.”

One bed. Two friends. One night.

Waking up cuddled together after pretending to be “just friends” for so long

A drunken “I’ve always loved you” confession

“Why does it matter who I date?” “Because it’s not me.”

Realizing they’re in love while watching the other laugh

Bandaging their wounds and whispering, “Don’t scare me like that again.”

“Have you always looked at me like that?”

Slow dancing at a wedding—pretending it doesn’t mean anything

Friends pretending to date… but one of them catches feelings

“You always know exactly what I need.”

A forehead kiss given “as a friend,” but it lingers too long

“You never told me you had feelings for me.” “You never asked.”

Shoulder touches, lingering glances, almost-kisses

Falling asleep on their lap and waking up with a blanket tucked around them

Getting caught in the rain and laughing like idiots—until the moment turns serious

A shared look across a crowded room that says everything

“You’ve ruined me for anyone else.”

Accidentally calling them “babe” and trying to play it off

One of them almost confesses… then chickens out

The other finally confesses—and it’s everything they wanted to hear

“I think I’ve been in love with you this whole time.”

😢 Hurt/Comfort & Angst Prompts

“Don’t leave.”

Bleeding and still trying to smile

“It’s not your fault.”

Silent tears

A hug after a fight

“You’re all I have left.”

Bandaging wounds

Nightmares and comfort

“I’m so tired.”

One last “I love you”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were hurting?”

Shaking hands hidden beneath a table

“I didn’t think anyone would come for me.”

Holding them through a panic attack, whispering them back to reality

“I’d take your pain if I could.”

A tear-soaked shirt and arms that never let go

“I’m not okay. I just didn’t want to make it your problem.”

Stitching up their wound while trying not to cry

“Please don’t pretend you’re fine. Not with me.”

Rocking them gently while they fall apart

“Even when it hurt, I never stopped loving you.”

Collapsing into their arms after holding it together for too long

“I thought I lost you.” “You almost did.”

Whispered apologies in the dark

“Stay with me. Please. Just a little longer.”

Carrying them home after they pass out from exhaustion or injury

“You saved me. Even when I didn’t want to be saved.”

Crying in the shower so they don’t hear—until they do

“You don’t have to fix me. Just… stay.”

“I would’ve given anything for one more day with you.”

“You don’t have to pretend with me.”

Cleaning blood off their hands while they tremble

“I didn’t mean to make you feel like you were alone.”

Breaking down in the middle of a sentence

“If you walk away now, don’t come back.”

“You said you wouldn’t leave.” “I didn’t think I’d have to.

Finding them crying in a place they thought was private

“How long have you been carrying this?”

Holding hands under a hospital blanket

“I don’t deserve your forgiveness.”

Voice cracking in the middle of “I’m fine.”

Rocking them back and forth, repeating, “You’re okay. You’re okay.”

“You didn’t see what I saw. You didn’t feel what I felt.”

Bruises in places that shouldn’t be visible

“Why didn’t you fight for me?”

“Do you regret us?” whispered into the silence

“I’m still here. You’re not alone.”

Coming home to find their things gone

“I never asked you to fix me—I just needed you to stay.”

Reaching for their hand and finding nothing there

“You left, and everything got quieter.”

Kissing their forehead while they sob into your chest

“I thought I was doing the right thing.”

Reuniting with them in a hospital bed after thinking they were dead

“Please don’t make me say goodbye.”

“I wish I hated you. It’d be easier.”

Clutching their shirt while whispering apologies

“It’s okay. You can break in front of me.”

Hearing their voice on a voicemail they forgot to delete

“Every time I close my eyes, I see you leaving.”

🌙 Soulmate AU-Themed Prompts

First words on your skin

A countdown to meeting them

Matching birthmarks

“I dreamed about you before we met.”

Feeling their pain

Shared thoughts

Color returns when they meet

“You’re my soulmate?”

Reunited in another life

“It’s always been you.”

The world is black and white until they touch

Hearing each other’s heartbeats across any distance

Names or dates that appear on skin when they’re close

Only being able to lie to everyone except your soulmate

“Every time I looked in the mirror, I felt like something was missing—until you.”

One sees dreams of past lives with the other—and remembers them all

Each time you die, you find your soulmate again

“I didn’t think you were real.”

They feel a physical pull whenever they’re near each other

One can’t say their soulmate’s name until they meet them

“You were the voice in my head my whole life.”

Writing something on your skin shows up on theirs

The first time they lock eyes, time literally stops

One remembers everything; the other doesn’t know they’re soulmates—yet

“We always find each other, no matter the life.”

Soulmates can hear each other’s music tastes like an internal playlist

When you touch your soulmate, an old scar glows or vanishes

The stars align—literally—when soulmates kiss

“I’ve been waiting for you in every version of the world.”

Your soulmate’s last thought before dying appears on your skin

You see the world in black and white until you touch your soulmate—then color floods in.

Only your soulmate can see your true eye color.

Their voice is the lullaby you’ve heard in your dreams since childhood.

Your soulmate’s first words appear on your skin—and they’re terrible out of context.

You can’t see your soulmate’s face until you fall in love with them.

Your soulmate feels every emotion you try to hide.

“Why do I feel like I’ve known you forever?”

Each life, you die before you can tell them you love them—this time, you’re determined.

Every lie you tell leaves a mark on your soulmate’s skin.

Their touch is the only thing that calms your nightmares.

You can borrow time from your soulmate—but it always comes at a cost.

When they cry, it rains wherever you are.

You start dreaming of them years before you meet.

“I’ve been drawing your face since I was a kid. I didn’t know you were real.”

Soulmate scars — you share every injury, new and old.

One of you dies young every lifetime—but this time, the cycle is breaking.

Your soulmarks glow when you’re in danger—and only your soulmate can see it.

Only soulmates can hear each other speak in a secret language.

“Every story I’ve ever written had you in it. I just didn’t know your name.”

Your soulmate’s favorite memory plays in your mind when you touch.

You can only see the stars when your soulmate’s alive.

The closer you get to your soulmate, the louder your heartbeat becomes.

You can’t dream until your soulmate is born.

One of you remembers past lives; the other doesn’t believe in soulmates.

“Even if you don’t remember me—I’ll find you. I always do.”

You hear your soulmate’s laugh in every life—even before you meet.

You both have the same scar — even though neither of you remember how you got it.

You physically ache when your soulmate is upset.

You write letters to your soulmate without knowing if they’ll ever read them—until one day, they write back.

“This mark? It’s always burned when you were close. Now it’s on fire.”

🌴 Vacation / Summer Romance Prompts

Sharing a bed in a too-small hotel room

Sunscreen smudges and flirty touches

“Let’s sneak out tonight.”

Watching the sunrise together

Getting lost in a foreign city

A kiss under fairy lights

Beach day chaos

Poolside flirting

Ice cream kisses

“Let’s never go back.”

A heatwave forces them to stay inside with nothing but a fan, board games, and lingering glances

Slow dancing barefoot on the beach at night, music playing from someone’s phone

The rental car breaks down and they have to hike the rest of the way—sweaty, annoyed, way too close

A thunderstorm ruins their plans, but they end up talking for hours on the balcony instead

Skinny dipping under the stars and a near-confession

Buying matching tacky souvenirs “as a joke”—but keeping them forever

Getting tipsy on fruity cocktails and admitting too much

“There’s only one towel. Guess we’re sharing.”

Heat-induced nap in a hammock—waking up tangled together

“You’ve got sand everywhere.” “Then help me get it off.”

Sunburn care turning unexpectedly tender

Carnival lights, spinning rides, and the kind of kiss you only get when you think the world’s paused

Pretending to be a couple to get a free room upgrade—and then questioning if it’s still pretending

“I can’t believe I’m spending my dream vacation with you.” “You love it.”

Falling asleep on their shoulder during the long bus ride back

Getting caught in the rain in light summer clothes—laughing, soaked, then suddenly serious

Unexpected midnight swim and soft confessions

“We’ll probably never see each other again, huh?” “Unless we make sure we do.”

A local thinking they’re a couple and they don’t correct them

That bittersweet last night—when no one wants to say what they’re really feelin

🌺 Summer Whirlwind Romance with a Stranger Prompts

“I don’t even know your name—but I know I’m going to remember you.”

Meeting eyes across a crowded beach… and not looking away

A shared cab from the airport that turns into a full-day adventure

“Want to ditch this party with me?”

Finding each other again after a lost phone number and one unforgettable night

Running into them every day in the same spot until you finally talk

“This doesn’t feel like a vacation fling.”

Waking up next to a stranger… and not regretting a single second

Dancing barefoot in the sand with someone whose name you just learned

“Let’s just pretend we’ve known each other forever.”

Missing your bus/train/flight—and ending up spending the night with them instead

The bartender who keeps slipping you free drinks and secret smiles

They speak a different language—but you understand each other perfectly

“We said no promises—but I don’t want this to end.”

Watching fireworks next to a stranger you kissed two hours ago

A chance photo taken by a stranger… and they’re in the background of all your favorites

Sunburns, shared smoothies, and slow-spoken confessions

“We have three days. Let’s make them unforgettable.”

They leave you a note at the front desk of your hotel

“I know we said it was just a summer thing, but I don’t want to go back to normal.”

A secret shared under starlight that you’ve never told anyone else

“Kiss me like we have forever—even if we don’t.”

The same playlist looping between your speakers while you drive through a sunlit coast

Accidentally booking the same group tour—spending the day side by side

“We met by chance. But this? This doesn’t feel like a coincidence.”

You save their number as “Summer Stranger” — but you keep texting them long after you leave

“I never do this. I don’t just… fall for someone.”

Leaving with sand in your shoes and a heart way too full

“Let’s pretend we’re in love. Just for tonight.”

Seeing them again one year later—in the same place, like fate never let go

☀️Fluff + Light Angst Prompts

Post-race hugs

“You’re the only one who believed in me.”

Getting caught on camera

Protective driver boyfriend

“Come to Monaco with me.”

Jealousy at the paddock

Making out in the driver’s room

Late-night Facetimes before a race

Wearing their team gear

Even if I lose, I still win if I get to come home to you.”

“I could hear your voice in the crowd—and that’s what kept me going.”

Wiping sweat from their forehead post-quali, fingers lingering

Arguing over safety risks after a bad crash scare—because you’re scared, not angry

A quiet kiss behind the garage before lights out

“I don’t care about the podium. I just needed to see you.”

Sitting on the pit wall, watching them race with your heart in your throat

“Tell me you’ll still love me when I lose.”

Sneaking into their hotel room after media day just to fall asleep next to them

Their hand slipping into yours during press chaos—gripping tighter than necessary

“I’m not afraid of the speed. I’m afraid of something happening to you.”

Helping them out of their race suit while they vent about a frustrating P6

“It was supposed to be fun—but it’s hard watching you hurt.”

Them snapping at you post-race, then pulling you into a quiet apology hug

Teammates teasing them for “softening up” since they started dating you

“You’re the only thing that feels real when everything else is noise.”

A kiss through the helmet visor

Being the first person they look for in parc fermé

Watching a highlight reel where the camera keeps catching them looking at you

“Don’t wait for me at the finish line if I don’t finish.” “I’ll wait anyway.”

Crying into their chest after a DNF—whispering, “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

💥 Rivalry & Tension Prompts

“You look good in red… but I hate it.”

Post-race argument turns into something more

“I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Enemies-to-lovers pit lane vibes

Accidental hand brush

“Just admit you like me.”

Caught in a rain delay together

Heat of the moment kiss after a win

“Still think I’m just your rival?”

“Hate me all you want, but don’t lie to me.”

“You only beat me because I let you.” “You wish.”

Training together turns into pinning each other down — neither backing off

“One day, I’ll make you beg.” “Try me.”

Tension snapping during a press event — whispered threats in close quarters

“You drive me crazy.” “Good.”

Getting paired for a team-building exercise, forced to cooperate

“If I kiss you, will you shut up?”

That moment when silence falls after yelling, and they realize how close they are

Wounded in the same accident, stuck in the med bay together

“You’re so damn irritating.” “You’re obsessed with me.”

Their name in your mouth — venom-laced, or something softer?

Jealousy rears its head when they see you with someone else

A bet made in the heat of competition that leads to a night neither of you forgets

“You think you’re better than me?” “No. I know I am.”

Realizing they’ve memorized every one of your tells — and using it against you

Being caught by surprise when they actually defend you

“Why do you hate me so much?” “Because I don’t know how to want you quietly.”

Grabbing them by the collar — not sure if it’s to punch or kiss

“You think I don’t notice the way you look at me?”

That one moment their hand lingers a second too long… and neither of you moves away

“I’ll never forgive you — but I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Arguing over who’s more stubborn — and realizing you’re both equally impossible

“You’re impossible to hate when you look like that.”

Forced to share a hotel room and trying very hard not to fall asleep in the same bed

The accidental “I love you” that slips out during a fight

“You’re the only one who can call me out and still get away with it.”

Training sessions that end with bruises — on bodies and hearts

“You’re driving me insane — and I don’t want it to stop.”

Pretending to dislike each other in public but stealing private moments

“Why do you always show up when I’m at my worst?”

“I hate you.” “Yeah? Then why won’t you leave?”

When their cocky smirk starts to feel like a challenge you actually want to accept

“You’re a distraction I didn’t ask for — but I’m glad you’re here.”

An argument that ends with them kissing you just to shut you up

“I can’t decide if I want to punch you or kiss you right now.”

Competing to see who can hold their gaze longer—and losing every time

“You’re my biggest rival—and my biggest weakness.”

Secretly memorizing their schedule just to ‘accidentally’ run into them

“I want to hate you. I’m just not very good at it.”

When a casual insult turns into a flirty dare

“If you ever leave, don’t expect me to come running.”

Holding onto their jacket after they storm off—smelling like them

“You think you can win me over? Keep trying.”

Tension-filled silences broken only by the scrape of fingers on a table

“I can’t stand you… but I can’t stand being without you either.”

Late-night texts that start as insults and end with confessions

“You’re the only person who sees through my act.”

A fight that reveals just how much they really care

“Why do you make this so hard?” “Because it’s worth it.”

When your rivalry becomes the only thing keeping you both sane

[all-that-jazz-93]

Oh my god guys I can't believe Dottie Underwood killed Casey McCall

[lovelytsunoda]

misc. masterlist

instagram au masterlist

f1

violent delights have violent ends (mick schumacher, daniel ricciardo, pierre gasly, nico hulkenberg) 🌹

mick, danny and pierre knew they would need to fight for seats in 2023. they just didn't know that otmar szafnauer was going to take it literally.

the motorsports fiction recommendation list (part two)

the cedric diggory f1 driver au that nobody asked for but i wrote anyways

f1 drivers as characters from the magic mike franchise

tokyo drift

the day you kissed a writer in the dark ,, han lue 🌹🍑🌩

she's stood by his side for years. his loyal mechanic, the brains behind his brawn. but she'd be lying if she said that it didn't hurt to watch him flirt with those other women in his club, when he came home to her every night in secret.

see also: proud mary ( han lue ) from tina!: the series

the night agent

take one down ,, francisco jenkins 🌩

the fix-it fic we all deserve, and the ending that cisco should have had.

top gun (1986)

tell me something girl (are you happy in this modern world) ,, tom kazansky 🌹🌩

after thirty years of marriage, heather kazansky reflects on the time she spent and the love she shared with tom as she prepares to write her eulogy and say goodbye to her husband.

take my breath away ,, tom kazansky 🌹

temporarily stationed in nevada, tom and heather decide to take a weekend in las vegas to see their favourite new wave band. all the while, all tom can think about when to ask heather to be his wife.

top gun (2022)

sunday in heaven ,, jake seresin 🌹

jake’s favourite afternoons were spent with his fiancée and his dog, with hot drinks and a good book. nice and calm, different from his every day. but tell anybody that and he’d have to kill you.

uptown girl ,, mickey garcia🌹

she would do anything for her nerd boy. except maybe meet his friends in a crowded bar with a pool table where she can make a fool of herself in front of all of her boyfriend's friends. it's a good thing that mickey is a good teacher.

the sixth sense ,, jake seresin (cosy collection 2024)🌹

after a car accident totals her car and leaves her with the ability to see ghosts, an anxious police desk sergeant learns to live with the ghosts haunting her home, and the crush she has on the hot pilot who lives next door

beautiful girl (stay with me) ,, jake seresin (kinktober 2024)🌹🍑

the three lit jack-o-lanterns in their bay window shouldn't have been the lightscape to their sweetest, purest intimate moments, but hey, what happens on halloween stays on halloween.

love, actually ,, robert floyd (the christmas collection 2024)🌹

recently appointed admiral robert floyd feels overwhelmed in his new position, and unprepared to fill the shoes of the late admiral thomas kazansky. when he inherts the job, he also inherits tom's old secretary. cue the romance. inspired by hugh grant's storyline in love, actually

birthday girl ,, mickey garcia (smutmas 2024) 🍑

used to feeling like an afterthought on her birthday (mostly due to its proximity with christmas), mickey sets out to make sure that his sweet lover girl feels treasured and loved

love is a losing game ,, jake seresin (SERIES) 🌹🌩

When her old boss from homicide shows up on her doorstep and tells her that her husband may be involved in multiple ongoing homicide investigations, Jessica Seresin realizes she might have to fight tooth and nail to keep her life from falling apart.

let me go ,, jake seresin (the coastal collection 2025) 🌩

jake is twenty years old and about to ship off for his first assignment in the us navy. he thinks his girlfriend deserves better, but she's here to tell him just how wrong he is

marvel

you've got me under your spell ,, eddie brock (the cozy collection 2024) 🌹

the then's and now's of halloween in the brock household.

shake it! ,, holland!peter parker (the coastal collection 2025)

dc comics

don't let the sun go down on me ,, bruce wayne (bale!batman)

usually she's the one begging bruce to take a break. not tonight, though. tonight, bruce thinks mrs. wayne deserves to rest

[ivyflowers13]

Want some?

[princenasim]

“My Secret Agent Husband” but make it Winteriron (or SteveTony) 🙂‍↕️

[baestruly]

the difference between calls ━━ peter sutherland

( 𝗌𝗒𝗇𝗈𝗉𝗌𝗂𝗌 )  peter sutherland x fem!reader

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ IN WHICH there’s an obvious comparison between peter’s first call from you and a call he receives when you are together. when it comes to your safety, peter doesn't play.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 - hurt/comfort, panic attacks, kidnapping, reader is rose's sister

𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 ━━━━━━━━

Peter sat at his desk, the pen tapping rhythmically against the worn wood. A mountain of paperwork loomed over him ━━ shit, he was behind on that, he never got much sleep, figuring it could wait as he stared blankly at the moving pen. 

The sharp sound of ringing made his heart skip a beat. There was no covering the fact peter strived and wished he had a little more than just a desk job ━━ answering calls, more specifically ━━ he lived for the thrill. It was evident from his heart thundering in his chest. answering the night agent's phone was a step up from being a 911 operator, at least. 

Until━━ 

“Go ahead.” He said smoothly, his pen turning in the same hand as he rested his elbow on the desk. 

“Um━━uh, night action! night action━━” 

The frantic voice on the other end made Peter stiff. The pen stopped twirling between his fingers. 

“Yes, hello. Code, please.” He replied, like countless times before. Peter grabbed his binder out from under the desk on the shelf and opened it in front of him, flipping through the pages with his one free hand. 

“Please, you have to help up━━oh my god, my sister━━me━━they’re coming after us!” If even possible, the voice was more frantic, gasps heaving in and out from what Peter recognized as a panic attack or something along the lines. 

This didn’t seem like his usual business toned atmosphere once he answered. It sounded like they had got the wrong number, he never dealt with situations like this, especially from people who didn’t seem like they knew what to do with the number and him across the line.

“Ma'am, if you don’t have a code━━it seems like you have the wrong number━━” 

“No! I have ur flippi━━I have the code gimme a second.” The girl spat. Peter bites his cheek as he hears whispering on the phone━━likely the woman’s sister.  “Okay! It’s table, clock, water, fire. You got it, did you━━” 

“Yes, I got it.” Peter interrupted, eyes flying through pages in a matter of seconds. Settling on the 80th page, he looks at the code that was given to him. “Is this Benwire or Ramese?” 

“What? What even is that?” A pause followed, filled with nervous energy. “They just told us to tell you the code; I don’t know who these people are?” 

More whispering ━━ frantically. Peter’s chest tightened as he heard sobbing in the background. This sounded like something 911 would have to deal with. 

“What street did your friend Morsese live on?” 

The question just seemed to make the hyperventilating worse. 

“Maam, are you okay? I can dispatch you to 911 if you’re in any dang ━━ ” 

“No, they told us to call you ━━ this number, they made sure of it! God knows they’re probably fucking dead.”

“Whose they?” Peter sat up straighter, urgency sharpening his instincts as he abandoned the paperwork 

“Our aunt and uncle, Emma and Henry. Campbell. Emma and Henry Campbell.” 

Peter bit his cheek more, holding the phone in a wave of silence. It was clear this girl was probably on the brink of passing out; she wasn’t breathing right. But she wasn’t the only one clueless, Peter had no idea who she was talking about either. 

Peter always had his protective instinct towards others in danger ━━ it came in hand with him working in the FBI. If this girl's aunt and uncle told her to call the line it could have some relevance in later reports━━but he wasn’t going to hang up on her yet. 

“Hello━━?” 

“I’m here. Run me through what’s happening, who’s after you?” Peter asked, his tone less harsh, preparing to do what he thinks he’s always done best ━━ just like on the metro ━━ save people. 

𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 ━━━━━━━━━

There was something Peter should be used to ━━ but now, with you in his life ━━ he never could be. It was the constant stress he was under, with you being associated with him and not knowing the minute something could blow up and ruin everything. 

Ruin your life. 

It’s why Peter has such a hard time leaving you in your guy’s apartment every day so he can go to work. In that shitty basement when he would much rather be spending every growing second by your side, ready to jump at anything that could put you in harm's way. 

Everything in the white house was total shit ━━ no one could trust anyone. But it’s been a few months since the attack at Camp David. Peter was offered a job as a night agent to serve in the field ━━ but decided to keep it safe, taking smaller jobs in the white house assigned by the president after what seemed like an ongoing thank you ever since he helped save her from the bombs. 

But he had no complaints ━━ and neither did you. He’s looked happier than he ever has, coming home and wrapping his big arms around you was his favourite part of the day, inhaling the soft vanilla scents of your (y/h/c) hair, bringing him to the present and the reality of it all, how the world brought him to you ━━ even in the worst circumstances.

Peter had no idea that these circumstances would repeat themselves.

After kissing you goodnight, he headed out, waiting the usual time he did outside the office door as the clock hit midnight. 

Peter nodded to his coworker in a firm greeting before entering and closing the door. He wasn’t sure how much time passed once he sat in that seat ━━ but the calls were quiet as they had been for the past few days. He didn’t work as much time on the phone as how Diane assigned him ━━ he got to get out a bit and work on other things, too. 

Then, after not hearing the old ━━ but familiar ring for a while, Peter’s head snaps towards it as it shakes once. He grabbed it quickly, unable to stop himself from imagining he could be on the other end. 

“Hello━━” 

“Peter Sutherland.” 

Peter’s brows snap together in alert and confusion, blinking a few times before shifting and resting his elbow on the table. 

“Code, please.” He’s said it many times before. 

“This is going to go very differently.” But he’s never heard that.

There’s a muffled scream. 

Or that. Was it━━ 

Fuck, he was not doing this, not today. Immediately, he jumped up, his chair flying back and almost hitting the back grey wall. 

“Who the fuck are you ━━ if you do anything to her ━━” 

“Yes, yes, I've heard that line many times before, during your whole night agent spiel a few months ago…you guys are really cute, the perfect partners in crime.” He laughed, it sounded awful, painful even. Peter’s head was racing, which seemed to match his heart. “Even recognized your scream right away, isn’t that right, sweetheart?” 

That was it. Peter pushed the chair out of his way as he paced around the room, fists balling together. He could hear your cries in the background, and his mind brought him back ━━ when you had been so scared, being prone to panic attacks under stress. 

And he couldn’t do a single fucking thing right now because he wasn’t already there. 

“Just tell me what you know about what happened with your dad, and then━━” 

“Fuck you.” Peter spat, hands angrily raking through his hair ━━ he hated how the caller knew how to get under his skin but he wasn’t going to let his guard down when it came to you, he needed to think ━━ he had to. 

“Ooh! we’ve got a bite. That’s not what the lovely lady wants to hear as her last words, I'm sure.” 

There's more shuffling. 

“Peter━━Peter,” your voice cracks, twisting into a desperate whisper, raw and fractured. “Please come back.” 

Peter’s heart stops hearing your voice in such a state, eyes widening with stress and concern. He can’t even picture you right now or he might have to sit down. He knew he could stall the caller to buy them some time so they could get to you without alerting him. 

“Hey ━━ hey, baby, it’s okay, you’re going to be okay. I’m right here, and I'm going to be there, you gotta hold on for me, I know you can.” Peter abandons his usual name for you after that sick man used it as a taunt towards you, he couldn’t cloud your vision and get his voice mixed up with the callers in your already jumbled brain. He knew how terrified you were because he’s seen it through the countless sleepless nights and panic attacks. But it was all coming true, and Peter wanted to curse himself for letting this even happen, your worst nightmares that he promised so deeply to protect you from. 

A sniffle escapes from your end, the silence hanging heavy, a chilling agreement that doubles as a ticking clock. Peter thinks before hearing an even quieter whisper, barely heard.

“He’s got a gun━━took down both guards, but I think he’s planning on jumping out the big window, his buddy is coming in his truck.” 

Your voice is extremely shaky, but Your words shake him to his core. Peter steadies himself, whispering, “Okay.” Stopping his frantic pacing, he speaks as clearly as his racing heart allows. “(y/n), we’re coming for you. The FBI will surround the house, but I need to hang up and alert everyone. Just nod like you’re still on the phone with me until he takes it, alright, baby?”  

Your voice quivered in return with a sniff, yes. Peter squeezed his eyes shut and slammed the phone down without a second thought, running to the conference room to get someone to immediately track the call in case he kept the phone on him if they got to the truck ━━ shit ━━ before they could. If anything, they could trace the calls or texts he’s made to his buddy.

He was running like a madman ━━ alerting the night agent team members. It was all a blur once he grabbed his gun and vest and drove out of there, police sirens going off everywhere and other agents' SUVS speeding close behind him. 

Peter jumps out of the car, barely having time to slam his car door closed as he’s already looking at the fifth-floor windows ━━ wondering what the fuck you meant by jumping out the fucking window into his buddy's truck? Because if you had anything to do with being entangled in that escape, this man would never see the end of it. He would hunt him down ━━ but he wouldn’t kill him. He’d make him live with horrible bruises and broken bones, and once he goes to the hospital, he’s taken to jail for not only assault but for interfering with private information and everything that happened with his father. 

This man would never see the fucking light because of how many times Peter would knock him flat out. 

Raising his gun, he carefully follows behind many other agents dressed in all black, whipping his gun in all open doors as he runs down the hallway and up the flights upstairs ━━ orders being yelled in the background.   

His legs were outrunning his brain, screaming at him to stop running because of how exhausted he was ━━ but finally, he reached the door. “FBI, OPEN THIS DOOR━━” 

“Peter!” Your panicked scream breaks through the noise, the sound driving him to force the door open, gun at the ready, prepared to confront whatever horror lay inside.

But then he sees you. 

In an instant, his gun drops to his side as he looks down at you, arms tied around the banister in the middle of the kitchen and living room. You know you must have looked like total shit as he abandons any proper FBI protocol and falls beside you, concerned eyes locking with yours as if they’re holding onto you for the only source of comfort while his hands untie yours quickly. 

Your glossy eyes, stinging with tears and probably drugs from how drowsy you were feeling for the past hour, started pooling with tears. It definitely wasn’t because of the drugs. 

You choked out a sob, one that's been buried in your chest for what feels like forever, as you startled into a coughing fit once Peter immediately wrapped his arms around you, staying kneeled on the ground because you had no energy to even attempt to stand, you were too shaky and would probably collapse the moment you put any weight on your legs. 

“You’re here; you made it back.” You whisper into his shoulder, already soaked with tears, breath hitching as your body trembles against his.

You could feel Peter’s relieved smile. “I know, I’m here. I’m so sorry this happened sweeth━━” 

He paused as if something shocked him. 

“Peter, it’s okay━━” 

“No ━━ no, it’s not.” He was still knelt, now facing you once you pulled away, hand rubbing his temples. “You’ve been traumatized enough, and me not taking the night agent job ━━ I could’ve been here, protecting you. But I left you, now he’s messed with your head, I can tell.” 

You shut your eyes tight, a quiet sigh escaping you, and that sigh only serves to unleash a fresh wave of tears, cascading down your cheeks. Despite Peter’s stressed state, he softly wiped them away. 

“You’re perfect. Your head, how you think ━━ everything about you, (y/n), and when somebody messes with that, it messes me up because I cannot physically allow myself to let that happen to you.” He takes your hands in his gently, turning them first and looking around your body for any signs of harm. You hated how he beat himself up for not being able to protect you. But he did help, he found you, and his idea about staying on the phone bought the other agents some time to track him down. 

You wince to yourself upon noticing he’s looking at the ━━ what are probably now ━━ agonizing bruises on your jaw and throat. You’ve taken punches before. It wasn’t anything new, they hurt like a bitch, though. 

Peter’s thumb glides against the tender, purple skin as his other fingers come to the back of your head in your hair, just behind your ear, and you lean into his comforting touch. “I’m sorry.” He wretched, keeping his hand in your hair and bringing your head to his chest. 

The two of you sit just like that, grounding yourselves through each other's mangled breaths. 

The right people can cloud right judgement is what Peter’s father always said. It makes your job harder when you have someone to lose. Peter made a promise to himself that night as you both lay under the covers, his thumb running circles over your knuckles. 

He promised himself he wouldn’t work behind that shitty desk again. 

Then, he would visit that sick man behind bars.

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ty for reading!

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Too easy : Peter Sutherland x reader

Part 1 : Strictly professional

Any other person in the car and they would probably feel the awkwardness sipping through every pore. Instead however the feeling that seemed to be suppressing any other was … a strange sense of peace. Almost as if the attempted murder  didn’t happen. Almost as if the bad breakup, the past 3 years and multiple mysterious hung up phone calls evaporated.

Almost.

She was putting on a brave face, looking outside the window, doing nothing to fight his iron decision to take her to their his place, but once more falling into the same trap of thinking she could fool him.

If anything, it was the other way round.

There was no option to hide her pale face and slight trembling and the fact that she closed eyes to not let him see the vastness of emotions behind them. 

“So-“

“Don’t.”

“Fine.“

And so they drove in silence. Two stubborn people, bound by circumstances once again.

And fate is a twisted invention indeed.

***

Nothing has changed in his apartment.

Well maybe except those slightly dried plants, since obviously he didn’t put much effort into watering them since Y/N left.

But other than that, not much was different.

Even that stupid charger she was looking for, for a few weeks before finally giving up and buying a new one.

Even the framed photo of them at the fair, eating candy cotton and having stupid fun. A picture that brought a little smile on her face.

“I didn’t have time to clean up.” He muttered, seeing how her eyes moved across the all too familiar four walls. Shockingly when it came to him, those words came out as more of an justification rather than simple statement.

“Sure.”

“Do you want to-“

“I’m tired. I don’t want to talk.”

“Not what I was going for.” Peter moved to the wardrobe and throw her a towel and his old hoodie, knowing well enough she’ll catch it.

“Isn’t it a bit cliché?” she rolled her eyes, seeing his choice.

“I don’t know, Y/N. Is it?”

“I swear to God, you should change that FBI job. 3 years later and you’re still answering the questions with questions. Agency looks freaking good on you.”

“It’s simple fact stating. You’re here and you have none of your stuff, so unless you’d rather sleep naked-“

“Bet you’d hate that wouldn’t you?”

Peter shrugged, being way to well trained to not show even an inch of an emotion, even if behind the indifferent surface there was like a volcano of them.

“Just go take a shower, Y/N. And for god’s sake stop pretending. You’ve been through a lot tonight, you are allowed to feel weak.” His hand found a way to her shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly, in a way a friend would.

“Allowed? Well, thank you very much for such generosity….” Her voice actually came out weak and vulnerable.

“Sure.” Peter smiled with that little smile that may have been hard to notice for someone who didn’t know him that well, but also the one that lit up his eyes. “Now go, I’ll make something to bite.”

“Since when do you cook?”

“Since now. Now go.”

***

It wasn’t cliché.

It wasn’t awkward.

It felt… safe.

Standing under the warm spray of water, washing away the fear and pain and knowing in the back of her head, that Peter was just a wall away, ready to break down the door If she did as much as call his name.

Just like the old times.

Even that stupid bathroom carried memories and shadows of the past. It was like Y/N was simultaneously in the two time planes, both having a shower and laughing with Peter while brushing teeth.

Reliving one of those rare moments when he wasn’t sitting by the phone in the literal basement of the white house, waiting for the call that was better not happening at all.

Waiting for his chance to prove himself and actually do something substantial and worthy of his skills and instincts.

Dear God, she was always too invested in this relationship from the very beginning and it looked like it didn’t stop even after the breakup.

And worse – she was now trapped in a glass cage build on the debris of something that was once so precious and sacred. Hence those feelings was about to haunt her at least till the morning.

No way to get out.

***

“No way to get out.” – Peter thought, trying to keep his thoughts occupied with the simple act of making sandwiches and prevent them from drifting to the woman in his bathroom.

Standing in the same kitchen he was preparing sandwiches for the last three years without such treacherous ….. forming in his tired brain.

Funny how one second in a life can act in a way similar to asteroid that once hit the earth and changed the course of a history just because of an almost non-existent change in the angle of flight curve.

Lost in his head, he didn’t miss the silent sound of opening and closing the bathroom door, followed by the scent of the body wash hitting his nostrils like a smell of a burning wood and having almost the same effect on his mentality.

“You need help with that?” she appeared behind him like a ghost, almost trying to not occupy to much space and shrink herself without causing disturbance. She knew he really didn’t want her here and she was nothing more than a job that was supposed to be performed well to please his superior and maybe deserve a gold star  next to his name.

Once a scout boy, always a scout boy.

The reason of the downhill their relationship went.

People pleaser! The harsh words, he didn’t deserve echoed in her head, making her lose her usual sarcasm and attitude, becoming a little softer, calmer.

Cause he may not want her here, but still did the right thing, be it from duty or the actual care.

“I’m done.” His response was calm, slightly reserved but deprived of hardness and it took her a second to figure out he actually meant the sandwiches and not everything including the situation they found themselves in.

“Oh.”

“Come on. Sit. Eat.”

“Thanks…”

Y/N instinctively took “her” place by the table, accidentally bring out another wave of memories. She had been sitting on the chair, swinging legs back and forth, sipping her tea and cracking jokes, trying to provoke him to laugh, doubling and tripling the efforts, agitated by the poker face he seemed to kept at all times.

Though it was all in his eyes that were the first sign of affection and attention and actual deep feeling.

“You uped your game.”

“Hm?”

“With the sandwiches.”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“Told you it’s cliché.”

“You just have to have the last word, don’t you?”

Y/n rolled her eyes and actually chuckled, throwing crumbs around.

“Messy.” He pointed out

“As if this place could get any worse-“

“not when you’re here.”

Oh.

Oh, wow.

Those words were one hundred percent real and one hundred percent honest, cause if anything Peter Sutherland never in his life had said anything that wasn’t well-thought.

“Peter-“

“I mean it. Don’t go overanalyzing it. It’s just better for my head knowing you’re being kept an eye on and not running around, bumping into accidental criminals.”

“Peter Sutherland! Did you just crack a joke!?”

“You’re a bad influence.” Right corner of his lips lifted and she responded with the same.

It was almost easy.

Too easy for it to not come bite them both in the asses.

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Hear me out. Secret Service Peter Sutherland and Metro Tim Bradford.