#pete's place opening night
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requested by @vellicore â§.*
it's opening night at pete's place! | â peteâs placeđ¤
#chris evans#cevans#chris evans edit#chris evans gifs#pete brenner#pete brenner gifs#pete's place#pete brenner au#dark pete brenner#pete's place opening night#lila's reqs#pete brenner smut#pete brenner fics#pete brenner events#dark au#dark verse#this may or may not have been the scene that sparked this whole ideaaaa#â lilaâs secret projectđ¤
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do u think u can do a Peter Parker x reader where reader is gone for a while and has her phone off, and Peter gets super scared only to find out sheâs alright?? I love ur work uâre the best xx
'No location found'
pairing: peter parker x reader
a/n: thank you for the request !!!! i had this written, then I decided to rewrite it lmao. I pictured college pete but Im not sure if I specified, also not sure if anyone saw my post abt writing a fic inspired by âpeterâ by taylor swift but i think im going to start working on that and that its gonna be a mini seriesđ.... so stay tuned and request something in the meantime !!
warnings: none
masterlist, requests are open !!
âThatâs not what I said!â
âOh? Well, thatâs what I heard.â
You two had been going at it for a while now. Peter had missed yet another date youâd both planned. Itâd been a while since you both spent time together, and you thought he was finally going to change that. Until he just stood you up again.Â
Youâd thought after moving in together, youâd see him all the time. The opposite was true. He was always out, either on patrol, at Stark Tower, or wherever else his Superhero duties took him. The problem was, that place never seemed to be with you.
âY/NÂ please-â
âNo, Peter! Iâm sick of it! I try to be understanding, I really do, I try to give you grace, but every time I do itâs like you just make it worse.â You sighed and ran a hand through your hair, âHonestly at this point, it feels like you donât even care anymore.â
His face fell. âCome on baby. You can't seriously think that! It was just a mistake, I won't do it again.â
You nodded, âRight. Think Iâve heard that one before.â You turned around and walked towards your shared bedroom.
âWoah, hey. Wait a minute, whereâre you going?â His voice was hurt, and you almost felt bad for turning your back.
Shaking your head and looked down at your dress. Youâd gotten all dressed up, expecting a nice dinner followed by a walk in the park. You said, âIâm tired, Iâm gonna change and get ready for bed. Sorry, but hey, at least now your schedule is freed up,â you gave him a weak smile, âYou donât have to worry about me.â
âY/N you know itâs not like that. Look youâre all dressed up,â he reached for your arm, âwe can still go out. Please, let me make it up to youâ
Looking into his eyes, it took everything in you to pull away.Â
âPeter,â you whispered, voice so quiet, yet so full of emotion.Â
âI donât want us to fight,â he begged.Â
'Weâre not fighting, not anymore. I just want to be alone.â
âOkay.â He nodded, but still kept his hand on you, reluctant to let go. âIâll sleep on the couch?â
You nodded, not trusting your voice right now.
He deflated. He wasnât exactly expecting you to object, but still. It hurt that you wanted to be away from him so bad.Â
âGood night,â he muttered, watching you walk towards the door with sullen eyes. âIâm right here if you need anything.â
You gave him the tiniest tip of your head, not even bothering to turn around, âNight.â
There was no way he was getting any sleep tonight.
You slept in that day. It was Saturday and you didnât feel like doing anything. Even after you woke up, you stayed in bed scrolling on your phone, heart pounding a little harder when you saw messages from Peter pop up, before effectively sliding them away.
After a few hours of doomscrolling, you stepped out of the room. You could see a throw blanket neatly folded on the couch, you have no idea if heâd even used a pillow. Your heart thrummed with guilt and you decided that tonight he was definitely sleeping on the bed. Or at the very least, youâd sleep on the couch.Â
Walking into the kitchen, you noticed a tray with a note sitting atop a covered plate. When you got closer, you saw that the note held a cheesy breakfast pun. So Peter.
I love you a waffle lot! With a bunch of hearts around it. You couldnât help it, you cracked a smile. He was such a dork. And you loved it.Â
You heated up your breakfast and had gotten well into eating when your phone started ringing. Was it Peter? You didnât really want to speak to him, not yet at least. Youâd kind of hoped you wouldnât have to until tonight-
You picked up your phone and almost let out a sigh of relief when you realized it was just one of your friends, Maddie. Then you felt bad for feeling relieved.Â
You answered the phone. âHey Mads, how's it going.âÂ
âHi Y/N! Good! I was just calling to see if you wanted to go out tonight? Listen, before you say no-â
âNo that sounds great actually,â you cut her off quickly, eager for an excuse to get out of the house. Youâd been canceling plans for way too long in hopes of spending even a moment with Peter, and it seemed as if even your friends had noticed. But no more.
âReally? Great! So there's this raging new club,â she went on, giving you all the details of who was going and who might be there and you listened but barely felt a hint of excitement. You werenât sure if it was because it was a frat party, and those things rarely appealed to you, or if it was lingering feelings from your argument with Peter. Which reminded you why youâd wanted to go out in the first place.Â
âWeâre gonna pregame at my place though, so stop by here and Iâll take you!â She finished, making you smile. Maddie was always sweet, a little more wild than you, but thatâs what made you like her.Â
âSure Maddie, thanks for the invite.â
âOf course, canât wait to see you, I feel like it's been forever since we went out together.â
You let out a small laugh, âI know what you mean. But weâre gonna change that tonight.Â
You said your goodbyes and hung up. You needed to start getting ready soon, despite you just eating breakfast, youâd stayed in all morning and it was pretty late already.Â
You got ready quietly, only a playlist youâd turned on droning in the background as you did your hair and makeup. You walked over to the closet to pick out an outfit and felt a little sad. Usually, Peter was here during this part, helping you pick out something, annoying you when he said you looked beautiful in everything.Â
âPeter! I need real criticism!â
âWell, I canât help it if my girl looks stunning in everything!â
You picked out a nice outfit you deemed fit for clubbing before grabbing a pair of heels and stepping out of your room. Looking around at the empty apartment you realized you should probably let Peter know you werenât going to be home tonight. You didnât feel like calling him though, and if you didnât want to open his messages from earlier either so you decided to take a page out of his book.Â
Grabbing a sticky note, you wrote down the briefest of explanations, before sticking it on your fridge and leaving.Â
He had sent texts saying Good morning!, Do you need anything?, and another explaining heâd be out for a while but heâd made you breakfast, all in hopes of you responding to him. You didnât, but that wasnât too shocking to him. It didnât make it hurt any less though.Â
He knew he fucked up. He knew heâd disappointed you again, let you down again. He knew he deserved this and more. He should be grateful you werenât giving him the more. And he was! But he couldnât help the small selfish part of him that just wished you would let him take you out tonight, or give him something else he could do to make up for it because there was nothing he hated more in the world than when you were mad at him. And he did not want to sleep on the couch again. Sure it was uncomfortable but that was the least of his worries. He hated not sleeping next to you.
That had been his favorite part about the two of you moving into your own place, that he got to hold you every night. After a rough night of patrolling, or working too long on his studies, or a new gadget, he got to go home and hold you, get lost in your touch, and that always made everything better. And it killed him to know you were just down the hall, and he wasnât with you.Â
He tried his best to rush everything, trying to get all his work done for the day so he could spend the whole night with you. He was planning a movie night, bingeing all your favorites. He was gonna give you a proper date, soon, but right now, all that mattered was you two spending time together.Â
On his way home, he stopped at a corner store to grab snacks for the two of you, making sure to get all your favorite ones. He even stopped at a flower shop not far from your apartment to grab you a bouquet and his heart fell when he realized how long itâd been since heâd done this. He definitely deserved the more.Â
He knocked on the door of your apartment a few times and his heart fell as he realized you were either dead set on ignoring him, or you werenât home. When he pulled out his keys and let himself in, he realized it was the latter.Â
Sighing, he set down the bags of snacks and placed the bouquet down as he ran a hand through his hair as he walked around. He entered the kitchen and felt a little better when he saw the dishes heâd used to plate your breakfast were washed and on the drying rack, meaning youâd eaten.Â
He was about to pull out his phone to see if heâd missed a text from you when he saw something on the fridge.Â
âWent out. Be home late.â
His brows furrowed as he read. He didnât know you had plans. Hell, he didnât even know if you had plans now, your note barely explained anything.
All he could do was wait until you came home to sort everything out.
Peter could handle the silent treatment (barely), but what he couldn't handle, was not knowing if you were safe or not. No. That wouldnât fly.Â
Heâd sent you a text when he got home, letting you know he got your note and to have fun and be safe.Â
An hour later, he sent another text. Just as a little check-in. Still no response.Â
It had been about three hours since heâd gotten back when he noticed that his messages had lost the little mark that indicated they were delivered. Weird.Â
He tried to call you, heâd refrained from doing so before because he thought he should let you have your space (which was why, he assumed, youâd left in the first place) but it didnât even ring, he just got sent straight to voicemail.Â
What made him really start to panic, however, was when he went to check your location, which he felt so stupid for not doing before, and it wouldnât load. It kept saying âno location foundâ making his heart beat harder.
This was worse. You were ignoring him, his messages and calls werenât going through. Something was wrong, was your phone off? Were you mugged? Or even worse-
He stopped himself before he could spiral too hard. That wouldnât help, right now, he needed to figure out where you were and if you were okay. He knew you werenât the kind of person who would go out to bars or parties alone. Maybe you went out with a friend? Or maybe you were at a friend's? It was a place to start.Â
He started calling your friends, people he knew you might go out with, and on the fifth call he finally got answers. OrâŚsomething like that.Â
âHello?â Maddie yelled into the phone, making Peter pull his phone away.Â
âHey Maddie, itâs Peter.â
âOh yeah, Y/Nâs dude,â she slurred.Â
âYeah, yeah, Y/Nâs dude. Hey listen, is she with you? She went out tonight but she forgot to tell me where, and now my messages arenât sending.â His pulse was racing. It sounded like Maddie was out, if the blaring music in the background was anything to go off of, and he was desperate to know you were okay.Â
âSorry Patrick, whatâd you say,â she asked making Peterâs brows furrow. They werenât exactly friends, but heâd met Maddie a few times. Enough times for her to know his name was not Patrick.
He shook his head, that didnât matter right now. âY/N. Is she with you, do you go out together?â
âOh!â She exclaimed as if sheâd just remembered something. âYeah, she is!â
Peter let out a sigh of relief.Â
âOr, she was.â He held his breath again.Â
âWhat do you mean âshe wasâ? Where is she?â
âI dunno, she left I think.â Maddie let out a little hum as if to say âtoo bad!â and Peter was sure she must be extremely intoxicated, otherwise there was no way she could be so casual about something like this. He could barely keep himself together.
He ran a hand over his face as he tried not to raise his voice. This was getting frustrating. âShe left? Whereâd she go? Where are you right now?â
âI donât knowâŚshe was bored I think. She was off today. Sâshame, she looked so hot.â
His heart clenched when he realized the reason you were off, was because of him. You didnât have fun, so you left, now he had no idea where you were and it was all his fault.Â
âWhere are you, Maddie?â He repeated.Â
âThat new club on 27th! Get down here Paul, it's so much fun!â She gushed and Peter rolled his eyes. He didnât have time for this.Â
He hung up quickly, not bothering to say goodbye before he got up to put his suit on. He couldn't stand the thought of something happening to you because you were upset and distracted because of him. That you weren't even speaking to him.
There was no way he was going to let anything happen to you.Â
You were walking outside, up and down the sidewalk. You knew it wasnât the safest decision but you didnât really care. The club was stuffy, humid, and way too loud. You just needed to breathe, and then youâd go back. Maybe.Â
You considered hailing a cab and going back home right now. Youâd send Maddie a text, but she probably hadnât noticed youâd left in the first. Sheâd been having a blast, unlike you, drinking shots and dancing with every guy she felt like. You werenât sure she remembered you stopping her to tell her youâd be gone for a bit.Â
On second thought, you were kind of hungry. You hadnât eaten anything other than Peterâs waffles for you that morning and there was an amazing smell floating from a food cart at the end of the block. You could help yourself to something before going home.Â
Before you could reach the food cart, you were flying. Or rather, swinging. You knew who it was right away.Â
Just as fast as heâd snatched you up, Peter put you down on an isolated rooftop, leaving just you and him high above everyone else.
You were about to reprimand him, about to demand an answer as to why heâd just done that, but there wasnât a chance before he was pulling you into a bone-crushing hug.
âPete?â Your voice was soft, you sensed there was something wrong and suddenly any anger or annoyance you held, from now or the night before, disappeared.
âYouâre okay,â he mumbled as if that was his way of an answer.Â
Your brows furrowed. âWellâŚyeah. Why wouldnât I be?â
He pulled away then, taking off his mask, and you saw just how terrified he looked, scaring you as well. There mightâve even been a little red rimming his eyes, making you wonder if he was holding back tears. âI came home and I brought snacks and flowers and I thought we could spend the rest of the night together but saw your note. So I texted you and I get that youâre mad at me-â
âIâm not,â you said, and you meant it. You werenât mad at him, especially right now, seeing him all shaken up like this. âBut what's wrong?â
âMy texts werenât delivering, my calls went straight to voicemail, and I couldnât track your location. Y/N, I got so scared something happened and you werenât talking to me.â He sniffled and your heart broke a little.Â
You reached into your bag and pulled out your phone, but when you tried to turn it onâdead.Â
âGod sweetheart, never do that to me again. Please.â He looked at you desperately, âYell at me. Fight with me. But please never ignore me anymore, I canât stand it.â
âIâm so sorry Petey, I had no idea my phone died. I wouldâve said something I swear. I never want you to worry like that.â Your hands went up to hold his face.Â
He brought a hand to hold your wrist. Gently running his thumb up and down your hand he said, âI always worry about you sweetheart, itâs my job.â
You shook your head, âYou worry about all of New York, I donât need to add on to that.â
âNo,â he said quickly, looking offended youâd even say that, âNo. Never think like that. You are the most important thing in my life, okay? Youâre my first priority and Iâm sorry, Iâm so sorry, that I donât show that or say it enough.
âBut Iâm going to do better, I promise. Iâm going to make it up to you because I canât lose you, I need you Y/N.â
You didnât reply, instead just smashed your lips onto his. His hands slid down to your waist, holding you tight. It was a kiss of forgiveness, of second chances, and new beginnings.
He pulled away first, but not before pressing multiple kisses all around your face. âHeels off baby,â he said as he knelt down and started working on your heel straps, lifting each foot onto his thigh before undoing each one. You didnât even realize how much theyâd been hurting until they were off. âIâm swinging you.â He picked you up swiftly, one arm wrapping itself around your ribs.
You groaned, wrapping your arms around his neck, âPeteyyyy. You know the wind tangles my hair too much.â
âDonât worry,â he said, leaning over to kiss you on the top of your head, âIâll be careful, câmon.â
You move your head to peck his cheek and then hug him tight, âI love you.â
He grinned, pulling you in closer. âI love you more sweetheart.â He leaned back and pressed a quick kiss to your lips. âHold on tight, Spider Monkey.â
You burst into laughter, âYou did not just say that!âÂ
âOh I totally did,â he gave you the goofiest smile, making you laugh again.Â
âOk, justâŚdonât let me go,â you said as you wrapped your arms tighter around him.Â
âNever,â he replied, and something in his voice told you he wasnât just talking about swinging.Â
#peter parker#writing#tom holland#andrew garfield#marvel#fanfic#peter parker fic#peter parker fluff#peter parker x you#peter x you#peter parker imagines#peter parker angst#peter parker x reader#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker writing#avengers x reader#avengers#the avengers#tom holland!peter parker x reader#mcu!spiderman x reader#mcu!peter parker#mcu!peter parker x reader#tom holland x reader#tom holland fluff#tom holland imagine#tom holland fanfiction#tom holland angst#fanfiction#tasm peter parker#tasm!peter x reader
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arguing with carmen and its big enough where you leave for the night but whatâs even scarier to him is that you also took teddy
he'd have an actual psychotic break, nervous breakdown.
especially bc i'm picturing him reverting back to his old ways. it's rare, but he slips into a full carmy (in the lock in) level meltdown. gets unbalanced and spirals further and further, and you just happen to be who he takes it out on.
screaming at you like a maniac over something stupid- you didn't wash his spare whites (he didn't tell you they needed to be washed). it's his fault, he knows it deep down, still he's losing his shit because it's the final straw.
"you stay at home all day! all fucking day and you can't do one thing!" carmen's red faced, screaming.
you're shocked, scared, on the brink of sobbing yourself. teddy's woke up from her nap, his screaming startled her. the newborn wailing from her nursery.
"carmen, you didn't tell me-"
"-i shouldn't have to!" carmen roars. "you're home all day-"
"-i'm on maternity leave. i just had a baby-"
"-oh, so. you can't do one fuckin' thing now? i have to do it all here too?" carmen is spiraling, pacing, running a hand down his face. "i get no fuckin' sleep, go work my fuckin' ass off, a-and then i come home so i can go back and work my ass off some more, and you can't help me out?"
his words sting, shock you with the weight of them. swallowing back tears, you turn, climbing the stairs to the bedroom.
carmen is scoffing, hands shaking with rage and annoyance and just overwhelmed. your ignoring him stings. makes him spiral even more. "don't go do it now! it's too late!" carmen scoffs. "i've got a fuckin' critic coming in two hours, and i'll wear stained whites. probably get a shitty review about our food being gross an-and the chef being just as bad!"
you texted pete through your tears, telling him that you were coming to stay there for a while. shoving clothes for the night in your small bag quickly, hands shaking when you zipped it up, your wedding ring flashing at you. you stared at it, a wave of tears coming over you, screwing the ring off your finger and setting it on carmen's night stand next to a photo of you two on your honeymoon.
you packed teddy and anchovy's things quickly, knowing you'd come back tomorrow to get what else you needed. just the essentials, to get through the night. anchovy in his carrier, and teddy in her's, you ignored carmen's pacing, his deep breaths and clenched eyes, walking straight to the garage.
carmen looked up at the sound of the door, standing quickly. a damning rush of horror, of realization washed over him, pulled him right out of his clouded tantrum.
"w-what- what are you- hey, what-" carmen runs towards the car door, where you're putting teddy's car seat into place, shushing the wailing girl gently.
"-don't fucking touch me." you sneer, teeth bared in primal rage, pure protectiveness.
"baby, wait, wait, ju-just hold on. where're you- hey, don't- where're you goin'?" carmen's frantic, eyes wide, stomach churning.
you shut the car door, moving past him without looking to get to the driver's side. "no, no, no, no, no. don't-baby please, don't. i-i-i'm sorry. i'm sorry!" carmen's stuttering in fear, hands shaking trying to hold the door open, keep you from shutting it.
"let go." you growl, yanking the door. "you're not going to talk to me like that, carmen. i don't care if you're stressed, i don't care. you're not going to come home and talk to me like that because you fucked up. not when i've been at home all day taking care of our- my child."
carmen feels dizzy, mouth filling with spit, sure he's about to throw up.
you slam the door, eyes watery and red and angry, glaring at him before pulling out of the driveway.
carmen's left alone in the garage, knees weak, hands shaking. his ears are ringing, head spinning, sure that he's hallucinating- that this has to be a sick sick dream. floods of realization icy through his veins.
the house is eerily quiet, so still. no teddy, no anchovy, no you.
he isn't sure how long he sits in the garage, the sun sinking in the horizon, but he stays motionless and still. richie shows up eventually, frantic and wide eyed.
"cousin! what the fuck? dinner service started a fuckin' hour ago, and we-" he stops, slowing his stride when he gets closer. carmen's vacant gaze, trembling hands.
"hey, carm, what's goin' on? you-you alright?" richie's voice dropped low and slow, like he used to with mikey. "carmen. hey, what's-"
"-she left." carmen whispered, his eyes wide in horror. "she-she left and she took t-teddy." carmen breaks, a sob choking out of his throat.
"why? why did she-" richie stops, looking at carmen. "carmen, what did you do?"
carmen sobs- no, wails. broken and terrified and horrified. full chest sobs that are more like screams. the realization of what he had done, what he had said, feeling the full weight of the consequences of his actions for the first time.
#thebearer#bearblahs#carmen berzatto#carmen berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto x reader#the bear#carmy berzatto#dad!carmen berzatto#dad!carmen berzatto x mom!reader#carmen berzatto angst
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his little superstar
pairing: carmy berzatto x reader
summary: youâre a local singer in chicago. the bear crew ends up at one of your shows, and carmy is absolutely speechless the moment he lays eyes on you.
word count: 1.5k
warnings: awkward and bashful carmy that will make you MELT
âDo we really have to go to this thing?â Carmy complained. He had been convinced forced to go out to a bar by his friends. âCâmon, you need to get out. You spend too much in the kitchen screaming at us.â Richie added. So, that was how he ended up in a line outside a bar with Richie, Sydney, Marcus, Natalie, and Pete.
âIsnât there supposed to be some singer here tonight?â Sydney asked, looking over at Nat.
âOh, yeah. I think I saw a poster that said that. I saw her here last week. This friend from high school invited me for her birthday. She was really good though. Her songs were great.â Nat started to tell Sydney.
Carmy started to zone out, thinking about all the other places in the world he could be. Once every month, Richie made an effort to drag Carmy to some party or bar. If not, Carmy wouldnât get out at all. If Carmy had it his way, heâd basically live at the restaurant.
When they finally made it inside the bar, Carmy rushed to the bar to order a drink. Heâd barely gotten his drink when Nat and Sydney pulled him over to a high-top table that they found. He was already mentally doing the math on how long he needed to stay before he could leave early.
He was brought out of his thoughts when he heard Nat start cheering. He looked over his shoulder and saw you walk onto the stage. The last thing he was thinking about was leaving early.
He didnât know what he expected, but you werenât it. You caught him by surprise, and he felt a smile slowly start to form.
Carmy didnât realize his mouth was hanging open until Richie elbowed him in the side. âClose your mouth. Youâll catch flies.â Richie teased, noticing the way that Carmy was drooling over you.
âOh shut up,â Carmy said, rolling his eyes at Richie.
Throughout the show, you made eye contact with Carmy a few times. Every time you met his gaze his cheeks instantly turned bright red.
He stuck out to you.
Most people were drinking and chatting with their friends, blissfully ignoring your presence. Some were silently swaying to the music. Not Carmy. He had his eyes glued to you.
Youâd be lying if you said you didnât playfully bat your eyelashes at him during some of the more flirtatious lyrics you sang.
After you finished your last song, you winked at Carmy before thanking the crowd and leaving the stage.
âCarmyâs got a crush.â Nat said in a singsong voice. Carmyâs cheeks were bright red. Richie slung his arm around Carmyâs shoulders. âOh, you totally do, cousin,â Richie said, laughing at Carmyâs embarrassment.
âYou all are children. I hope you know that.â Carmy said, pulling away from Richie and heading out the front door. He walked outside the bar and pulled out his pack of cigarettes.
He quickly lit one and tried to distract himself from the nagging that was waiting for him when he went back inside.
The stage door beside him swung open, causing him to jump backwards. âOh, shit. Iâm so sorry. I didnât think anyone would be out here.â The voice quickly apologized.
Carmy looked up and realized it was you. Every coherent thought left his brain. When Carmy realized he hadnât replied, it was too late to say anything.
You noticed how timid he was. His eyes were glued to the ground, and he hadnât said a word. âSo, did you like the show? I saw you in there.â You asked him, as though he wasnât overly aware that youâd been watching him all night.
âOh yeah yeahâ it was good. I meanâŚjust wow, you were great.â Carmy said, quickly mumbling through the words.
He was too busy avoiding eye contact to notice the smile on your face. You definitely thought Carmy was cute.
âI donât think Iâve ever gotten such a raving review before.â You playfully teased him. Carmy finally looked up at you. He was partly shocked he hadnât scared you away yet.
âSorry,â he said, sheepishly. You took a step closer to Carmy, testing the waters. He didnât move away. âDonât be. Itâs cute,â you said, subconsciously twirling your hair around your finger.
Carmy felt like his skin was on fire. You were looking at him. He felt like all of a sudden he couldnât remember how to breathe.
âIâm Y/N, by the way,â you said, sticking your hand out. He quickly switched his cigarette into the other hand, so he could shake your hand. âIâm Carmy.â He said, giving you a small smile.
âOh, shit. Youâre the guy. The Bear guy.â You said, remembering seeing his name in a newspaper. If it was possible, he started blushing even more. âYep, thatâs me. Have you been? To the restaurant, I mean,â he asked you.
He started worrying about the possibility of you having already gone to the restaurant and seeing him in one of his arguments with Richie.
âNo, I havenât had the chance yet. I donât know a lot about food. I feel like I wouldnât be able to truly appreciate it, but maybe if I had someone to teach me and explain it to meâŚâ you suggested, giving Carmy a smile.
His jaw dropped, and his cigarette almost fell out of his lips. âWaitâŚme?â He asked, feeling like he was definitely in a dream. You giggled at his shock. âI mean, you are the chef.â You said, nudging him.
âJust to be clear, like a date?â He asked.
âThatâs up to you, Romeo,â you said, brushing a piece of his hair behind his ear. You watched him shiver as you touched him.
âCan I ummâŚget your number?â He nervously asked you. You quickly grabbed a pen out of your purse. âTook you long enough,â you said, giggling at him.
You grabbed his hand and quickly scribbled your number on the back of his hand. He stared at it for a few seconds. Carmy was having trouble processing any of this conversation.
âYouâre really pretty.â Carmy said, feeling a bit braver but not a lot.
âThank you. Thatâs really sweet. Youâre also very pretty.â You said, giving his hand a quick squeeze.
Carmy dropped his cigarette and stomped on it. âI should probably go back in. I donât want to keep you.â He said, starting to walk back towards the front door.
âHang on a second, pretty boy,â you called after him, stopping him in his tracks. He turned around to face you, confused and nervous. âYou forgot something.â You said, taking a few steps towards him.
He instantly checked his pockets. You grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him in to kiss you. It took him a second to kiss you back, having to process his initial shock. Once he kissed you back, he was still too nervous to touch you.
âIâm not going to break, I promise,â you teased him. You grabbed both his hands and moved them to wrap around your waist. He tightly held onto your waist and didnât let go. You pulled him back into the kiss, letting your fingers run through his hair. He lightly hummed against the kiss, causing you to smirk.
You pulled out of the kiss. âYou better call me.â You jokingly warned him.
âDonât think I could forget if I tried,â Carmy said, as you headed back inside through the stage door.
He let out a sigh and raked his fingers through his now-messy hair. âSheâs perfect,â he mumbled to himself. He took a few deep breaths before heading back inside.
âAy, heâs back. We were starting to think you left, Carm.â Nat said, as Carmy rejoined their group.
âHoly shit,â Richie said, staring at Carmy in shock. Carmy froze, having no idea what Richie was talking about. âWhat?â Carmy asked, cluelessly.
Richie just chuckled at Carmyâs clear confusion. âWho were you outside with?â Richie asked, smirking at him. Carmyâs eyes went wide. âWhatâuhh what do you mean?â Carmy lied.
âSo, thatâs your own lipstick that youâre wearing?â Richie asked. Carmy realized what he meant and started furiously trying to wipe your lipstick off his lips, causing the whole group to start laughing. âSo who was it?â Nat asked. Carmy refused to even look her in the eyes.
Then, Sydney spotted something on his hand as he tried to remove the lipstick. She grabbed his wrist and flipped his hand over. They all saw your name scribbled on his hand next to a phone number.
âOh, shit. You got yourself your own little superstar, cousin?â Richie said, in shock.
âI donât know what youâre talking about.â Carmy said, pulling his hand away from Sydney. Carmy knew what teasing awaited him for the rest of the night. âIâm not gonna lie, Iâm impressed. I didnât think youâd be able to pull that offâ Nat teased him.
Carmy wasnât offended. He also was left wondering how he managed to get your phone number.
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INFINITELY YOU
part three // spitfire
SUMMARY - In every universe, Peter Parker seems destined to fall in love with you. And, in every universe, he realizes it too late. When universes collide and two of them are granted a second chance at rectifying their biggest mistake, neither of them are willing to let the opportunity go to wasteâeven if you end up not being the person they thought you were.
WARNINGS - 18+, minors DNI
WORD COUNT - 4.5k
// masterlist // series masterlist // send me your thoughts // no way home fan fiction // rewrite
name key: tom!peter = peter // andrew!peter = parker // tobey!peter = pete
On the walk back from Peter Panâs, it seemed as though Parker had managed to entirely escape the sputtering awkwardness that had ensnared him the night before.Â
And, after countless city blocks of listening to him babble about absolutely everything and anything, you realized that there was one very striking similarity between him and Peter.Â
Both boys had a fervent interest in all things nerd.Â
âNew Hope takes place nearly two decades after the rise of the Galactic Empire, meaning that Leia is only nineteen when she's kidnapped and forced aboard the Death Star! Which is like, absolutely insane, right? Seriously! Imagine being nineteen years old and stuck inside of something that has the potential to obliterate an entire planet!âÂ
Shoving open the lobby door to your complex, Parker hardly even waits for you to hum your agreement before continuing his retelling of the Star Wars film.Â
âAnd at the exact same time, Luke is finally beginning his Jedi training! Which, honestly, nineteen is actually super old for that, but-âÂ
Moving towards the stairs, Parker close on your heels, you cut him off with a question. âToo old? Nineteen is hardly even an adult,â you argue. âWhat age do most Jedi start training?âÂ
âAbout four or five, so obviously Luke was way behind,âÂ
Not even a full three stairs up, you come to a grinding halt, leaving Parker to bump into your back. âFour?!â You cry out, wide-eyed as you spin around to face him. âThatâs insane!âÂ
Parker only lifts his shoulders, clearly not understanding the reason for your horror.Â
Furthering your point, you add, âThereâs nothing ethical about taking a bunch of little kids and training them to be weird, intergalactic warriors!âÂ
âItâs the best way to train them!â He lifts his hand defensively, explaining, âThe earlier they start training, the less likely it is that the kids will have formed an attachment to their families! That way they learn to act out of logic instead of emotion!âÂ
For a heartbeat, youâre rendered entirely speechless by the absurdity of his claim, left to stand with your mouth agape as you blink at him.Â
âThat sounds like emotional abuse,â you finally huff, shaking your head. âActually, scratch thatâit doesnât sound like emotional abuse, it just is!âÂ
âItâs not abuse-âÂ
You hold a hand up, stopping him before he can say anything else. âGive me one good reason why a group of adults should withhold love and affection from children if they arenât abusing them.âÂ
âUh, how about the fact that love is basically what made Anakin turn to the dark side!â Parker scoffs, clearly unwilling to recognize how insane the notion he was pushing actually is.Â
âOr maybe Anakin turned to the dark side because he was indoctrinated and traumatized by some stupid space cult!âÂ
The expression on his face is downright laughable.Â
It was as if you had just reached out and slapped him across the face. His jaw went slack, his mouth hung open in blatant offense. As a sputtering noise falls from his lips, trying and failing to come up with a good rebuttal, you smirk.Â
âExactly,â you boast, taking his inability to speak as a sign of victory.Â
Twirling on your heel, you continue up the stairs, nearly all the way to the top before you finally hear him come stomping up behind you.Â
âThe Jedi Order is not a cult!â He finally shouts after you.Â
Already traipsing through the hallway, fiddling with your keys, you sing-song, âWhatever you say, bug-boy.âÂ
Reluctant to admit defeat, Parker continues grumbling under his breath as you unlock the door, spouting something off about your lack of respect for George Lucas.Â
âLook,â you tell him, pushing the door open, âif liking Star Wars matters this much to you, then Iâll gladly watch them with you.â A wry smile plays on your lips as you turn to look at him, standing in the doorway, âMaybe watching them will be enough to change my opinion on turning kids into galactic slaves.âÂ
Eyes narrowing in a playful glare, heâs only able to hold the expression for less than a few seconds before a laugh causes him to break character. âI just canât believe that Peter hasnât made you watch them already,â he admits. âI had you watch them so much that you could probably recite the scripts from memory alone!âÂ
His amusement dies off as soon as he finishes the sentence. Despite having been the one to bring it up, the mention of his world seems to cast a sullen shadow over him, ruining his sweet, boyish smile.Â
Curiosity instantly claws at you, begging you to ask him why his world seemed to have such a negative effect on him. Or, rather, why his version of you seemed to have such an effect.Â
This had happened last night too, when you had asked him if the two of you were friends in his worldâand it was because of this that you assume that youâre somehow the common denominator in his discomfort.Â
Still, you donât let yourself ask him about it. For as much as youâre starting to like Parker, you donât know him nearly well enough to try prying into his life.Â
Not yet, at least.Â
âWell, youâre more than welcome to force me into sitting through them in this world, too.â You tell him sweetly, sweeping an arm out to gesture inside of your apartment, inviting him. âItâs not like Iâve got any plans for the rest of the day.âÂ
You couldnât even remember the last time you did have plans. Life had been so quiet since that last night with Peter and Mjâthe night when everything went so horribly wrong.Â
Parker sucks in a breath through his teeth, a hand coming to rest against the back of his neck. âI should probably get back out on the streets,â he reluctantly says, sounding more like he was convincing himself of that than you. âBut, I donât know, maybe we can take a rain check on it, yeah?âÂ
Disappointment washes over you, sudden enough that youâre sure it shines through on your face. It takes a shocking amount of willpower to stop yourself from trying to persuade him to stay, wanting to remind him that two other Spider-Men were already running themselves ragged in pursuit of the villainsâso why did he have to go, too?Â
You had grown used to his constant talking, having found solace in the chatter that kept you from slipping too far into your own thoughts. Selfishly, you wanted him to stay so that you wouldnât have to be alone; so that you wouldnât have to risk thinking too long about Doctor Strange or the multiverse or constants or Peter.Â
The thought of admitting any of that out loud, however, felt incredibly humiliating.Â
âFor sure,â you force a smile, trying to ignore the many thoughts swirling in your mind. Then, eyeing the slightly too-tight Ramones shirt that heâd stolen from you, you add, âBut shouldnât you at least come in and change?âÂ
His nose wrinkles slightly as he shakes his head. âNahâI think this city has more than enough spider-people swinging around it right now. I figure we might actually benefit from one of us patrolling on the ground-level, yâknow? Maybe I can ask around for any giant lizards or blown light bulbs.âÂ
Itâs hard to tell if the last bit is meant to be a joke or not, but you laugh anyway if only to avoid knowing why you should be worried about lizards and light bulbs.Â
âSounds like a plan,â you second his idea. âWell, I guess Iâll see you later then?âÂ
A surprising sense of joy lights his eyes at the sound of your hesitance, unfitting of the simplicity of the moment, but charming nonetheless. He grinsâa wide and endearing sort of grinâas he takes a step back, âI wonât be gone long,â he promises before reminding you, âlock the door behind you, alright? And if you need anything-âÂ
He pauses, patting the pockets of his jeans only to remember that he didnât bring a phone with him to this universeâand that, even if he did, there likely wasnât a wireless plan good enough to support multiversal travel.Â
âIf you need anything, call 911.âÂ
âGot it,â you laugh, watching as he stumbles backwards towards the stairwell, cheeks red with faint embarrassment.Â
Turning to go inside, you canât ignore the warmth that now blooms in your chest.Â
You could definitely get used to having him around.Â
A peculiar sensation prickles at your skin, curling along your spine like icy fingertips.Â
Something was wrong. Very wrong.Â
The usually comfortable atmosphere of your apartment had shifted. An eerie tension fills the space, a near-suffocating feeling that has the very walls holding their breath, humming a tune of warning as you inch further into the living room.Â
Your stomach twists as the sharp tang of exhaust fumes fills your nostrils. By the couch, a faint breeze rustles the curtains of a window, wafting in the nauseating scent of the city street belowâa window that hadnât been open when you left earlier.Â
A mere foot or so away, you notice that the picture frame Parker had been fiddling with before is now lying on its face, having been knocked off the end table and abandoned. Atop the table, you notice that the lamp is sitting askew, its base just inches from tumbling over the edge and joining the frame.Â
Someone had come in through your windowâand it didnât appear as though stealth had been very important to them, given that they had clearly stumbled into the table upon their entrance.Â
Adrenaline floods your senses, your spine stiffening as you take a series of slow, quiet steps.Â
Moving towards the corner, you carefully reach out a hand to grab the metal bat propped against the wall. The bat had been an unlikely housewarming present from when you first moved in, given to you by Peterâs mentor and your own reluctant renegade, Tony Stark. For nearly two years now it had sat in this corner, unused and gathering dustâuntil now.Â
You wrap your fingers tightly around the base, wincing slightly as the rubber grip pulls at the still-healing flesh on your palm, making you curse yourself for not properly bandaging the wound last night.Â
But youâre used to painâand so youâre easily able to bite back against it as you ease through the living room, checking for any sign of the intruder's presence.Â
As you walk, gripping the bat like your life depends on it, you canât help but hear Tony Starkâs voice echo in your mind.Â
If youâre gonna live alone, then you should have some sort of protectionâhe had told you, gently placing the cool steel into your hands for the first time, a ribbon tied sloppily around itânot that you need it.Â
Satisfied with your search of the living room, you start easing towards the hall. Youâre good at sneaking around, having had a lot of practice at itâevery movement you make is calculated, every footfall so purposefully gentle that itâs nearly silent.Â
Quiet as you were, you could do nothing to ease the sound of your blood thrumming wildly in your own ears, your heart pounding against your chest.Â
The incessant beating worries youâbecause you know that there are people in the world with the unnatural ability to hear such things. Peter, even with his enhanced hearing, had to be close to someone in order to hear something as soft as their heartbeat; but you had heard rumors that there were others who could hear a pulse from miles away, others like the Devil of Hellâs Kitchen.Â
The thought makes your blood run cold, though you try to push the worries from your mind. From what you know, the Devil doesnât have a habit of breaking into apartments, nor was Queen's his usual jurisdiction.Â
Noâwhat you were dealing with had to be no more than an average burglar!Â
An average burglar who, somehow, scaled up the side of a building to break into your apartmentâŚÂ
Alrightâyou think, approaching the end of the hallâperhaps itâs a not-so-average burglar, then! Still better than the Devil.Â
Peeling one hand from the batâs handle, you curl your fingers around the doorknob to the guest room, Parkerâs room. You ease the door open slowly, trying to keep the old hinges from crying out as you peer into the space.Â
The sweet scent of vanilla is the first thing that hits you, contrasted by the subtle bite of vetiver.Â
Parkerâthe room smells of him, even though he had only been here for one night.Â
On the bed, the quilt is rumpled and thrown about, pillows strewn about. The doors of the armoire are wide open, a few old shirts hanging over the edge of one of the shelves, no doubt from when he went digging through your clothes in search of something to wear.Â
The room was messy, but empty.Â
Your shoulders sag, half-a-breath loosing from your lungs. The relief is short-lived, however; as by the time you edge back into the hall to turn towards your own door, youâre overwhelmed with dread.Â
If whoever broke in was still here, then this was the only place they could beâsave for the bathroom, though you seriously doubt any burglar would have much interest in scouring through your toiletriesâŚÂ
Easily, gracefully, you twist the knob, the metal yielding quietly to your careful touch.Â
The curtains are tightly drawn, eradicating any trace of sunlight and leaving the room cloaked in shadows. But, even in the darkness, youâre able to see the rough outline of a figure sprawled out across your mattress.Â
For a split second, you think of Parkerâs advice to call 911, the weight of your phone suddenly heavy in your back pocket.Â
You think of how you should follow that advice.Â
You think about how fast you could runâif you would be able to reach the front door before they could catch up to you.Â
But then you stop thinking, disregarding all logic and reason as you take a step into the room, as if drawn in by some invisible force.Â
Remaining mindful of your surroundings, you slowly approach the edge of the bed. Squinting in the darkness, you try to study the body laid out atop your comforter. Watching the steady rise-and-fall of their chest, it suddenly hits you that, whoever they are, theyâre asleep.Â
Slinking around the corner and coming to stand at your bedside, youâre finally close enough that you can see them in spite of the absence of light. Crimson and blue spandex clings tightly to their arms as they cling one of your pillows to their chest, and you feel your entire body sag with relief as you loosen your grip on the bat.Â
So this must be Peter 2.Â
The fabric of his mask is bunched up and resting along the bridge of his nose, which is somewhat smushed against the pillow heâs holding, no doubt leaving him to breathe in the scent of laundry detergent and your perfume.Â
Lower, you can make out the subtle contours of his jawline and the curve of soft, pink lips. Higher, youâre met with the impassive stare of then white lenses sewn into his mask.Â
The lenses shield his eyes from your view, and a curious feeling begins to tug at the furthest corners of your mind. Take it offâit seems to whisper, compelling you to move in closer, your shins pressing against the side of the mattressâtake it off.Â
You grit your teeth and try to ignore the feeling, try to ignore the velvet-voice slithering through your mind; begging you to look at him, to touch him, to notice him, to-
Pain shoots along the side of your temple, likely in response to the sudden tightness in your jaw. It distracts you enough that youâre able to shake the strange feeling long enough to regain your focusâeven if the remnants of it still linger.Â
You shouldnât be interested in himâyou should be pissed at him.Â
Not only had he broken into your house, which was already bad enough, but he had also climbed into your bed and made himself cozy! The absolute gall, the audacity he must have, has you allowing the tiniest sliver of rage to ignite inside of you.Â
Both hands still gripping the bat, you lower it from where it rests against your shoulder to swiftly jab its head into his stomach.Â
A cough sputters past his lips as the impact pushes the air from his lungs.Â
Youâre actually shocked that you landed the blowâin truth, you had expected his spider-sense to kick in and detect the incoming hit, waking him with just enough time to dodge the shot. But, apparently, his instincts had made the mistake of assuming that you were of no threat to him.Â
âMorning sunshine,â you chime, your feigned cheerfulness set off by a sneer.Â
Heâs scrambling into an upright position, knees sinking into the mattress as he presses a hand against the sore spot youâd created on his stomach. âWhat the fu-âÂ
His voice is hoarseâfrom sleep or pain, youâre not sureâand he doesnât finish the curse spewing from his mouth once his head shoots up towards you, as if finally registering the sound of your voice.Â
âI donât know what things are like in your world,â you muse, swinging your bat back to rest against your shoulder, âbut in this one, breaking and entering is considered a crime.âÂ
Heâs still catching his breath, and while those damn white lenses covering his eyes give so little emotion away, you assume that heâs going to apologize. Itâs what Peter would do, and Parker, too.Â
But not him.Â
âYour friends said I could stay here,â he defends himself. Taking another deep breath and extinguishing the burning in his lungs, the lower-half of his face transforms into a defiant smirk. âItâs not breaking and entering if you were invited.âÂ
âAnd did they tell you to sleep in my bed, too?â You shoot back, brows rising in annoyance. âWord of advice: next time youâre invited to stay in a total strangerâs house, maybe try not to repay their kindness by crawling through their window.âÂ
He mocks you without missing a beat, âWord of advice: you live in a shitty neighborhoodâif you donât want people coming through your windows, you should try locking them.âÂ
âAh, right! Cause the average person is definitely willing to scale the side of a building for the prospect of an unlocked window!âÂ
âYouâre a pretty girl in a dangerous city,â he drones, lifting a shoulder as he meets your sarcasm with purposeful calm. âYouâd be surprised what people would be willing to do for a chance at getting you alone.âÂ
The insinuation sends a shiver down your spine, but you mask your unease, flashing a smile thatâs more predatory than sweet. âAw,â you coo, âso you think Iâm pretty?âÂ
He returns the expression, skillfully avoiding your derisive question. âI think youâre irresponsibleâand a little cocky.âÂ
âBetter to be cocky than a felon,â you remark. âJust spare my neighbors the acrobatics show next time, would you? Maybe try knocking on the door like a normal person! Preferably when youâre not dressed like⌠that.âÂ
Itâs not that his suit wasnât nice, because it was. But it lacks the advanced Stark-tech that makes Peterâs suit so uniquely sleek, meaning that it was likely safe to assume that no one in this world would mistake this boy for the real Spider-Man.Â
Unless they were to catch him scaling up the side of your buildingâŚÂ
âI tried knocking.â he sounds exasperated, as if you are testing his patience. âYou werenât home.âÂ
You snort a laugh, wondering if he truly believes that is all the reason he needs to break into someone's home.Â
âThen you shouldâve waited until I got home,âÂ
âI hadnât slept in over twenty-four hours. I was too tired to wait.âÂ
âThen you shouldâve slept in the alleyway with the rest of the strays,â you hiss at him, fingers tightening around the bat as your frustration builds.Â
The sheer ferocity in your voice gives him pause, stunning him into silence.Â
Then the corner of his mouth begins to twitch upwards, lazily grinning at you as if he actually enjoys the verbal onslaught.Â
You can tell that heâs watching you through those white lenses, and his tongue darts over his bottom lip, you feel your breath catch in your throat. âFine,â amusement dances in his tone as he raises his gloved hands, âfair enough.âÂ
For a moment, no sound comes from your parted lips, leaving you to stand there gaping at him until you remember how to speak. âFair enough?â You echo, shaking your head slightly. âThatâs all youâve got? No apology?âÂ
He moves, forcing you to take a step back as he shoves his legs over the side of the bed and rises to his feet. Heâs not as tall as Parker, but he still stands an inch or so higher than you, making it hard to not feel intimidated as he stares down at you, your own face staring back from the reflection of his lenses.Â
âBetter not push your luck, Spitfire,âÂ
Heâs baiting youâhe has to be! Using a stupid nickname to get under your skin, to try and prod further at your short temper. And itâs workingâgod, you hate how much itâs working!âbecause you find yourself contemplating putting his superhuman durability to the test by whacking him over the head with your bat.Â
âBy the way,â he says before you have a chance to act on your intrusive thoughts, pointing at your hands, âyouâre bleeding.âÂ
As if his words switch a flip in your head, youâre suddenly aware of the acute throbbing in your palm. You loosen your grip on the bat, letting it clatter recklessly to the floor as you hold your hand out to examine it.Â
Unsurprisingly, the rubber handle managed to tear open the barely-healed cut on your palm, courtesy of your too-tight grip on it. You hiss through your teeth, watching as blood oozed from the cut, dripping down towards your wrist.Â
Slipping past you, the boy only half-manages to stifle his laugh. âYou should probably take care of that.âÂ
Heâs already slipping out into the hall by the time you regain enough awareness to follow after him, gritting your teeth against the pain.Â
âAnd where do you think youâre going?âÂ
âTo the other room,â he calls over his shoulder. Once heâs standing in front of Parkerâs door, he spins back around to face you, his snarky expression still in-tact. âWhere Iâm hoping you wonât follow me.âÂ
Everything about him causes your blood to boilâhis grating voice, his insolent attitude, his stupid soft lips.Â
âWould it kill you to be nice to me?â You exclaim, your voice strained with pain as you try to wrap your hand in the lower half of your shirt.Â
It takes no-time for blood to start seeping through the thin material, and you certainly donât look intimidating like thisâthe lower half of your abdomen on display as you try to apply whatever pressure you can to the woundâbut you donât care.Â
âI donât have to let you and Parker stay in my houseâIâm doing it because Iâm nice, alright? And, so far, youâve been nothing but a dick!âÂ
The thin fabric of his mask shifts, brows furrowing at the mention of Parker. Unlike Peter, however, he doesnât bother commenting on the nickname. âNice isnât exactly the word Iâd use to describe you. Especially since youâre the one calling me names.âÂ
The levity in his tone makes you want to screamâwhat was his deal?!Â
You press harder against your bleeding palm, your breathing turning shallow. Youâre not sure if itâs frustration or pain or what, but you feel like your head is spinning. âLook, I donât know you, alright? But this? Isnât gonna work,â you bark at him, chin lifted defiantly as you stare into his mask, unrelenting. âIf you plan on staying in my house, then youâll get your shit togetherâgot it?âÂ
His head tilts, curiously watching as you continue your frantic speech.Â
âNo crawling in through my windows or sleeping in my bed or smarting shit off! And take off that stupid mask!â You huff, shaking your head. âOr, I donât know, pull it down the rest of the way! Just do something because you look stupid like that!âÂ
The words are spewing from your mouth like a torrential downpour, fueled by the rage swirling in your stomach and the throbbing in your hand andâ
He laughs, a genuine laugh that isnât born of derision, and you feel your racing thoughts slow to a halt. âYou should work on your insults,â reaching for the nape of his neck, he tugs his mask off. âBecause that was pathetic.âÂ
Itâs no longer just your thoughts that have slowed, but the entire world. Everything around you feels like it has come skidding to a stopâleaving you staring up at him like a dumbfounded idiot.Â
Heâs beautifulâa commonality among Peterâs variants, it seems.Â
Heâs smirking, an infuriatingly charming smirk that lets you know he has no intention of listening to your demands for him to silence his quick wit. But youâre not focusing on thatâno, youâre focusing on the features that had been hidden from you this whole time; his dark hair, tousled from removing his mask, falls in a chaotic halo around his face, contrasting the vibrance of his eyes.Â
His eyes.Â
They leave you breathless, and you hate it. Colored with the deepest cerulean youâve ever seen, his eyes feel like staring into the depths of a crystalline ocean. You can almost feel yourself getting swept up in their tides, feel them enveloping you in a feeling of familiarity, as if this wasnât the first time you had been pulled into their ebbing waters.Â
âHave weââ your mouth has gone dry, your voice cracking. âHave we met before?âÂ
Itâs a ridiculous question, and you recognize that even as itâs spilling from your lips. You couldnât have met him beforeânot when the two of you werenât even from the same universe!Â
He seems to be thinking the same thing, and youâre already preparing to take the full force of whatever smartass comment heâs about to fling at you. âIâve met you,â he says simply, taking you by surprise. Then he inclines his head towards your still-bleeding hand, âYou should patch yourself up before you stain the carpet.âÂ
You look down at your hand, at the hem of your shirt, soaked in blood.Â
âBut just so I know,â you look back up, his body half-turned towards the door, his fingers resting against the knob, âif Peter and Parker are already taken, then who does that make me?âÂ
You have to force yourself to take a breath. âWhat did I call you in your world?â Heâs silent for a moment, staring at the floor and chewing on his lip. Then, pushing the door to Parkerâs roomâtheir roomâopen, he smiles.
âPete.â
a/n - ayyy, pete's finally here! and, ofc, lots of other little important details sprinkled around as well.
also, i really wanna say thank you to everyone who has been reading and enjoying this story so far! it truly means the world to me to read all of the nice comments and to know that you guys are interested in this story! so, again, thank you đ as always, please comment/like/reblog and let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist!
part four, titled "blooms of subterfuge", to be released april 29th
#peter parker imagine#no way home imagine#peter parker fan fiction#peter parker fic#peter parker one shot#mcu imagine#spiderman imagine#spiderman fanfiction#andrew!peter imagine#tom!peter imagine#tobey!peter imagine#tom!peter x reader#andrew!peter x reader#tobey!peter x reader#peter parker x reader#spiderman fic#peter parker#mcu x reader#mcu imagines#marvel x reader#marvel imagine#marvel imagines#andrew garfield#tobey maguire#tom holland#spiderman headcanon#spiderman imagines#tasm imagine#tasm imagines#raimiverse imagine
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đ˝đđ đśđ đźđť đşđ đ°đŽđżđą - đ˝đ˛đđ˛đż đ˝đŽđżđ¸đ˛đż
đđđşđşđŽđżđ: peter and you argue because he loves to spend all of his money on you.
đ/đ°: 0.5k
đŽ/đť: sorry for disappearing for a few months⌠again đ i am slowly getting back into writing so please bear with me! i saw my last fic reached over 9000 notes so that really motivated me to write something else for you guys ⥠iâm not so sure how i feel about this but i really do see peter as the type of boyfriend to blow all of his paycheck on you so i just had to write this LOL anyways i hope you all enjoy this!!
âput it on my cardâ you suddenly hear peter say as he pulled your earphones out, causing you to jump.
you were trying to keep yourself awake while waiting for peter to come through your window after patrolling for the night. to keep yourself occupied, you decided to listen to music and do some online shopping (which consisted of you just putting things in your cart but never actually buying anything). with your back facing your window and your earphones in, you didnât see or hear peter come inside.
âjesus christ peter, donât sneak up on me like that!â
âyeah yeah whateverâ he says not really caring that he nearly scared the life out of you. âas i was saying before you rudely snapped at me, put your order on my cardâ
âi literally have over $400 worth of clothes in my cartâ
âand?â
âwhat do you mean and? thatâs expensiveâ
âyour point?â
âthatâs more than half of your paycheckâ
âdoesnât matter. the whole reason why i have a job is to spoil youâ he says while taking off his suit and getting comfortable in your bed.
âaww pete, youâre too sweet. but still, no. i donât want you spending that much money on meâ
he hummed an okay which led you to believe he was gonna just drop the conversation.
you were so wrong.
before you know it, heâs shooting a web at your laptop and dragging it over to him.
âNOOOO!â you scream dramatically and tackle him on your bed before he can type in his card information.
âLET ME BUY YOU CLOTHES!â he screams back while trying to push you off of him so he can grab your laptop again.
you quickly snatched your laptop from the bed and ran out of your room as fast as you could.
âGET BACK HERE!â peter shouted while chasing after you to which you just ignored and kept running away.
âyou know what, you leave me no choiceâ he abruptly stops chasing you which causes you to stop in confusion.
suddenly, he jumped and stuck to your roof with his webs, and webbed your laptop over to him. you literally had no way of getting to him now.
âthatâs no fair, youâre cheating!â you whined.
he laughed at you standing helplessly below him and finally placed your $450 order on his card.
âhere you goâ he smiled and jumped down from the roof, handing your laptop back over to you.
before you were about to scold him for spending so much money on you, you heard a knock at your door.
you and peter both looked at each other confused because you werenât expecting anybody for the night. he walked to the door and opened, revealing the people you were least expecting.
the police.
âhello, we were called over here for a noise complaint. your neighbors reported screaming being heard from your apartment room and they were concerned. is everything alright?â
you did not expect to end your night by explaining to the police that you and your boyfriend were screaming over buying clothes.
#peter parker x reader#peter parker blurbs#peter parker fluff#peter parker angst#peter parker smut#tom holland x reader#tom holland#tom holland fluff#peter parker#tom holland angst#peter parker imagine#peter parker fic#spiderman x reader#spiderman fluff#spiderman angst#spiderman smut#spiderman#marvel#spiderman blurbs#tom holland smut
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J U N K Y ' P R I D E
joel miller x reader
" I KNOW I CAUGHT YOU AT A NOT SO HAPPY TIME OF YOUR LIFE " ⧠⺠⺠ă°
WARNINGS: age difference (big one), pervy joel, trailer park joel, joel miller has a vintage porn collection, joel's a sad old man, video game joel was in mind when writing, joel is six foot because i say so, multi-part, smut in the next chapter because i can't write anything if it isn't slowburn
WORD COUNT: 7.7k
CHAPTER TWO
AO3LINK
CHAPTER ONEâBAD DISEASE
Static from the television set tucked in a corner, a beaten leather armchair parked in front of it and a stack of vintage, VHS porn tapes on the unit. One half of âAgent 69â stuck in the VCR, balancing on its side due to the lack of care from its owner whoâd jacked off in the very chair that towered over itâcum stained fist and a name on his lips, slipped out between plush flesh. Hand frantic, jerking in tandem with the buck of his hips as he flit his eyes between the TV and the wood-panelled ceiling, profanities spilling from his filthy mouth. Muttering to himself as pornstar moans graced his ears, words whispered into the night, stolen by the archangels and flown up to God: conspiring, scheming, uttering under their breath that he should not be allowed through the holy gates on judgement day. That the defiled Bible on his bookshelf and the cross that had been left for him by the previous owners, pinned to the trailer wall, was not enough for them to ignore the strained sentences that he spewed in a desperate bid for the Trailer Park Princess on her kneesâred nails and red lips wrapped around his cock. A ring of colour staining the base.Â
Utter filth. And Joel knew it.Â
The perversions he didnât keep to himself, laughed about bending over the pretty thing next door whilst nursing a beer on Peteâs porchâpuffing away on the cheap cigars heâd stolen from the liquor store. They tasted like shit, smelt like shit and Joel wouldâve been better without it, but it added to the image: kept Susan from asking him stupid questions like why he didnât have a woman. It was her way of flirting, bikini top displaying her sagging tits, bending over the kitchen counter whilst his buddies watched baseball.Â
âYou got your eye on anyone, Joel?âÂ
âNot really, Susan.âÂ
Then Pete interjecting.Â
âCome off it, Susan. Just cause he ainât committed donât mean that he ainât got women.â
That kept her quiet, made her slink away into the hallway, slipping into their bedroom and pulling a cover-up onâsuddenly insecure.Â
Joel wasnât a pervert. He didnât have some strange penchant for young women. They were justâŚnice to look at. Pretty and sun-kissed in the Texan heat, ass hanging out their shorts, bikini top doing much more to entice than Susanâs did. There was no harm in lookingâthey never knew. He prided himself on being discreet, nursing a beer in the late afternoon whilst Kenny Rogers lulled from the radio, flicking ash from his cigarette onto the porch floorâeyes trained on your open window, cracked just a tad to let the air through. Drapes open.Â
At times, he thinks you do it on purpose, a gentle taunt, a silent jeer: âYou can only look, perv.âÂ
If the invitation was there, heâd take you up on it. Because out of all the women heâd fucked, headboard bashing against the wall, a chip in the wood of the trailer evidence of his trysts, you were the only one whoâd worked him up to the point of no return. The only one whoâd grabbed him completely by the collar and forced him to lick your boots.Â
Like Joel said, he wasnât a pervert. You were just a fucking whore who needed to be put in her place.Â
So heâd sit there, in the white garden chair heâd snatched up from the pile of scrap that accumulated just east of his trailer, and watch. Most days, youâd be doing nothing in particular, unfortunately already dressed, dirty clothes in hand and wet hair dripping down your back. Other days, the days where Joel thought he was really lucky, where heâd stumble inside with a hard-on, sit on his recliner and hastily shove whatever he got his hands on, into the VCR, skipping over the poorly acted introductions, and pretend that the moans reverberating the trailer, were yours. Images of you slipping your shorts over your hips, swaying slightly to whatever tune you were listening to, peeling your shirt off your body. No bra. Slyly stepping towards your window, catching his eye once, a look so slight that he wouldnât be surprised if he imagined it, and pulled your drapes shut.Â
Heâd spilt all over his hand, white on his knuckles and a smile on his lips.Â
Joel would never feel guilty for wanting you, not when he had already made peace with the fact he was a deadbeat, bound to the white trash lifestyle, unemployed and living off the pills he paid for and sold for a ridiculously high price, still grieving his losses and wondering what the fuck he couldâve done differently. If he wouldâve done anything differently given the chance.Â
No, Joel was not a bad person. He just looked for her in every person, desperately seeking a will. And so far, you had succeeded in helping him remove the gun from his mouthâevenings spent in different, dangerous ways.Â
Texan summers were unlike anything youâd experienced before, the heat so incredibly stifling that your love for the sun disappeared completely. Mornings spent on the porch, soaking in the last bits of breeze before cycling your ass to work, sweating and heaving by the time you got there, in the same condition when you rode back home and locked yourself away with every window flung open before nightfall fell and you felt you could breathe again.Â
The cicadas were loud, the snakes huddled up in the shade, waiting for you to trample on them, and the beast next door, Joel Miller: terrifying, gorgeous and a fucking pervert.Â
The day youâd moved into the trailer, despairing the loss of stability, ruminating upon your desperate escape from a home now dead and lost to the prairies of your mind, heâd been there. Wifebeater stretched across his wide torso, a cigarette placed on his lips, unused as it hung there, smoking away, the grey wisps begging with each dissipation into the atmosphere: breathe me in. Heâd stared. Unable to be subtle no matter how slick he thinks he is, eyes flitting between your tits and your ass. Tits. Ass. Tits. Ass. A calculated dance that left a funny feeling brewing in the pit of your stomach, a lurch in your bowels that made nausea claw its way up your throat.Â
Tits. Ass. Then, he suddenly looked at your face, standing there on his porch, the sunrise building its way up the horizon, too early for anybody to see him looking you over like you were a dead deer heâd just shot, smirking at the notion of sawing your head off and displaying it on the wall above his mantle. Heaving boxes into the empty trailer, lot number seventeen, whilst the owner of lot eighteen wouldnât take his fucking eyes off you, was a terrible feat.Â
Once youâd shoved the last box into your bedroom, youâd shut the door, locked it tight and peeked through the window to see that he had gone back inside, retreating to the haven of steel and veneer.Â
Over time, Joel became easier to manage. After the initial, awkward introductions where heâd called you princess, babydoll, sugar (almost adding a âtitsâ to the end of the nickname before realising where he was) your stomach reeling at the monikers, time settled your unmistakable disgust for him, the universe replaced the sickness you felt when you spoke to him with another stomach-turning anxiety that you pushed down far into every crevasse and high onto every mountain.Â
You grew to enjoy the nicknames, skipping a few paces up his porch steps and ask him ever so kindly if he could come and fix the cupboard door that was swinging off its hinges, change the lightbulb because you couldnât reach the ceiling yourself, stop the leaky tap that seemed to start drip drip dripping every monthâjust to bully you.Â
Although you knew that Joel was a dirtbag, hearing him talking about the filthiest things, laughing as Pete clapped him on the back in praise and acknowledgement, knowing that he wanted nothing more than to treat you like a whore, he gave you nothing except a sly smile, a sleazy nickname and the occasional help around the house. Fixing things.Â
So, naturally, you began asking around about Joel. Susan liked to gossip. So did Lillian, a woman who had spent her entire life in the park and, at sixty-two, had no interest in leaving.Â
âI remember when he moved here,â sheâd told you one fine summer evening, when the heat wasnât as menacing and you felt content being away from the air conditioning, sipping sweet tea in Lillianâs wooden garden chairs, feet placed on the seatâchin resting on your knees. âAll stoic, wouldnât speak âta anyone. I could tell heâd gone through something bad, you know me and my sixth sense.âÂ
Sheâd paused for a moment, taking a drag, a sip, a sigh before looking at you solemnly.Â
âHe was a catch with the ladies,â sheâd muttered. âThey were all after him, even this one over here,â sheâd pointed to Susan whoâd smacked her arm, complaining about her disrespect. She was a married, loyal woman after all. âWell, itâs true. If I were twenty years younger, I wouldâve gone for him too, but it wouldnât have done much anyway cause he didnât touch anyone. There ainât many pretty young ladies round here, you know youâre the only one,â sheâd said plainly, addressing you with a hint of affection.Â
Waving her cigarette around as she relayed every single detail she knew about Joelâs love life, telling you how after a few years of moping, heâd bring back girls in the middle of the night, fuck them, and then throw them out the next day.Â
âHeâs not a romantic,â Lillian had prefaced, Susan interjecting with:
âYa think so? I think he isâŚif he just found the right woman-â
âOh donât listen to her Darlinâ, heâs a man who likes to play. He ainât lookinâ to settle, I tell you that much.âÂ
Listening to them both, their anecdotes, their stories, and their opinions, you concluded one thing about Joel Miller. He was an asshole. A man who had done nothing to better his life since he stepped foot in the trailer park ten years ago, a sag in his shoulders and an anger in his eyes.Â
You werenât sure if heâd mellowed since then, or if heâd just managed to conceal it better. Joel hadnât been angry around you, not when you knocked on his door at three in the morning, asking him if he could come get the spider out of your bedroom, not when youâd accidentally run into his truck with your bike or told him that he was an asshole when youâd caught him talking about you one day in springtime.Â
âSheâs as dumb as fucking rocks,â heâd chuckled. âBet she gets cockdrunk so easy.âÂ
Heâd grumbled out the last sentence, an afterthought that was more for him than the men he was talking to, but you, stumbling around, half-asleep after your shift, were not willing to take the degradation. Youâd berated him in front of his peers, slammed the door behind you, and regretted it immediately. Because, even though it shouldnât matter, even though you thought he was pervy and angry and wouldnât treat you how youâd been told you deserved, the last thing you wanted was for him to hate you.Â
Every time he praised you, told you that you looked good as you stepped out of your home, on your way to Lillianâs for a catch-up and the cigarettes she bought you every three weeks, just for being good and keeping her company, you felt that tingle, the synaptic transmissions running down your spine every time he stepped through your door, asking what the issue with your tap was. You shouldâve been disgusted when heâd left and youâd gone to the bathroom only to find the panties youâd left on the floor were gone, but youâd felt that same spark instead. A deep, sliding ache that consumed every part of you.Â
Luckily for you, your sink decided to start leaking again on a gorgeous Sunday afternoon. Perfect time to lure him into your trailer, grab him by the neck and ask him as nicely as you could if he could cease the pain.Â
Sip of beer, drag of cigarette, click of the remote to change the channel, repeat.Â
A usual Sunday afternoon pastime.Â
Joel wouldâve rifled through his VHSâs, find something he could jack off to whilst he deliberated whether today would be the day heâd say âfuck itâ and saunter on over to next door, hoping to god heâd get his dick wet by someone other than a whore, but he couldnât be bothered to move from his seat. It was effort enough trying to change the channel, arm aching as he pressed the button, rolling his eyes as the same boring drab illuminated his TV screen.Â
It was another one of those days. Glancing at the watch on his wrist, the broken glass, the notion that he would never fix it no matter how easy it wouldâve been to go over to Shaneâs and ask him to get it working again, all for the low price of a few pills.Â
Sheâd left him with it and he would die with it.Â
A reminder of her every time he glanced at his watch, swallowing hard as he remembered the way heâd pressed cool metal to the side of his head, a tear slipping down his cheek before realising that he never could. Because Joel was an asshole, he knew that. He was selfish and cruel and spoke about people as if they could get any lower than he already was. But more so than anything, Joel was a sad old man.
Tommy, the damn bastard, whoâd left Joel to fend for himself while he went off with his new-found âtrue loveâ to have kids and a decent life, had sent a few thousand dollars and a pitiful âIâm sorry, Joel,â over the phone after his big brother had fucked up and lost his job. When Joel had been left penniless and broken. Nothing to fight for. No one to hold him or tell him that he was loved. Heâd spent all his money raiding gas stations for cases of beer, bottles of whisky, anything that could numb the painâchoosing the alcohol over food, over his mortgage. When heâd lost the house, he hadnât taken anything of hers. Even after sheâd died, heâd insisted that everything needed getting rid of. Her clothes, her posters, even her damn phone. Heâd slammed Tommy against the wall after realising that he was taking everything with him, that he was not doing as he was told. After that, Joel had closed the door on her bedroom and never stepped foot in it again.Â
All he had of her was a damn watch, a photo that his little brother had shoved into his hands, a harsh, âTake it, you damn bastard. Youâll regret it when you stop feeling so sorry for yourself,â on his lips, and the memory of her in his arms when heâd felt that huge heart of hers stop beating.Â
There had been many low points in Joelâs life, wandering through his existence on a tightrope that was ready to snap with every step, but none had been lower than that.Â
Not even when heâd called Tommy in the middle of the night, sobbing, struggling to breathe with a clean bottle of Jim Beam in his hands, begging him to help. Heâd lost his house, heâd lost his job, heâd lost his daughter. Where to next?Â
Tommy, all the way in Wyoming had scraped together some money, told Joel to get himself down to the mobile park and a steady job. Start from the bottom again.Â
Sometimes, Joel resented his brother for not giving him that money for a flight to the West, smiling down the phone as he informed that they had a spare room for him, his nephew cooing in his bassinet and waiting for his old uncle.Â
He understood though. When he wasnât drunk it made more sense why he hadnât invited him to his home.Â
They hadnât spoken in sixteen years. To his nephew whom he did not know the name of, he was just the deadbeat uncle who hadnât made it out of Texasâstill alive but lost.Â
Tommy wouldâve probably hated him more if he was sitting on Joelâs couch, staring at the porn and the beer, the cigarettes that his little brother knew he had only smoked when he was a rebellious teenagerâthe occasional pull never becoming a habit, especially when his daughter came along.Â
Almost certainly wouldâve despised him if he knew how he felt about the girl next door, the perverse catharsis he experienced when he took himself in hand and imagined taking care of her, shushing her whimpers, making her whine with the way he stretched her open.Â
Oh, and he was a bad man. A bad fucking man and he was the last thing you needed. Some poor, young girl who was doing her best to make it. Pay the rent on time, make sure she was kept fed, all whilst juggling the inescapable feeling that once you were in the trailer park there was no getting out.Â
Joel didnât see an end. Heâd been here for over a decade; his drug money was not for a new house or a new life, it was for whores and booze, a carton of Marlboro reds that he got for cheap from Bill, and porn. Heâd collected all the goddamn vicesâbecame a person so unlike who he was, so far from the quietly loveable single dad heâd been hailed as years ago.Â
As far as Joel now was concerned, that guy was a fucking pussy.Â
That guy would think he needed professional help for the way he thought about you, would expel every single image of you naked and writhing, tits bouncing in time with his thrusts as you lay boneless and crying in his grasp.Â
You were legal. What was the big fucking deal?Â
Joel needed this. You were not just some throwaway material good that would leave him in debt for the next ten yearsâyou were full and gorgeous, smart, quick-witted and made him harder than the oak tree that stood centuries-old just a little down the road from the old Palmer farmhouse.Â
That day youâd heard him talking about you to his friends, the way heâd lied and said that you were dumb, when youâd come storming up his porch stepsâall rage and heatâand cussed him out, heâd laughed. It didnât matter about the taunts and the sniggers he got from his buddies who he would have no issue never speaking to again. They could go fuck themselves for all he cared because you hadnât willingly thrown yourself at his feet and licked his boots.Â
Whores were easy. No challenge with a whore, no longing, no desire, just a mutual understanding that this was transactional and she was going to moan as loud as you wanted her to whether it felt good or not.Â
But you had given Joel something worth chasing. And fuck he was going to catch you, even if it meant heâd die in the chair he sat in, with nothing to show for his life except a case of Bud, an empty fridge, and a stain on his bedsheets where youâd reached for himâbegging for everything he could not give.
Something about him had you checking your appearance before you walked out the door, making your hair presentable, touching up your lipgloss, blotting the oil from your face. All for a man who saw you as nothing but jailbait
You wanted to be wanted. To be looked at with a fire, an urge to grasp you and take you fully, pull you close when you cried and kiss you when you shook with the need to run far away. You wanted to be kept, to be reminded every day that you were needed, loved and desired.
You wanted Joel.Â
Joel: the sad old man next door, the dangerously handsome figure in your life that stood six feet tall, jaw sharp and strong, muscles straining with his arms crossedâbuilt big and firm. A chest youâd very much like to lay your head on. A bulge in his pants youâd very much like to see stripped bare.Â
So when the opportunity came, you seized it, with an iron first, intent on capturing what had been yours since the day youâd moved to the free prisonâsince the day heâd stared at you, an unadulterated and irremovable, perverse desire that shook the very beings of your existence. That determined exactly who you are and how you would fall for the watchful eyes and glinting gaze that befell you every time you stepped down the rotten wood steps at the foot of the trailer entrance.Â
You stepped onto them then, Chuck Taylors strapped to your feet, laces loose and lazily tied, skin smoothed from the razor youâd pressed against it in the shower that morningâall for him. The appearance every bit of expectation you had for his fantasies and ideals, hoping that the attire would thrust him further into abandoning a morality he did not have.Â
The sun set rapidly behind you, the grass long and dry around your ankles, unmowedâas you nor Joel had ever discussed who would get mowing dutyâand a clear head. A set destination, unstifled by a long day at work, the sweat curling along your back too harsh to be ignored and the sometimes discourteous demeanour of Joelâs so powerful that you often wondered why you liked him. Why you gave so much attention to a man years ahead of you, unable to look at you without laughing at the prospect you thought you were more to him than a pretty thing to look at whilst he wallowed in his castle of self-pity heâd built for himself all these years spent trapped and lonely.Â
It all seemed insignificant that day youâd crossed the boundary between lot seventeen and lot eighteen. When youâd shakily advanced up his steps, onto the porch you grew so fond of, and knocked once, twice, thrice on the white doorâstepping back to await his welcome. Hoping to god that heâd see you and take you there.Â
The shuffling on the other side of the door raised your heart rate, a sweat forming on the back of your neck which you brushed away with a hasty hand, intimidated by what awaited you when the white disappeared and transformed into bulking arms and a firm chestâa tall body that you gazed up at with ardour.Â
When the sight appeared, you gulped away the desire to run away, to pretend that youâd just come here for the leaky tap and that there was no other reason you had bothered him on his peaceful Sunday afternoon. No ulterior motive. Not that you just wanted to see him because he had hardly been around the past couple of days and in truth you were worried about him; you wanted to make him feel better.Â
âHi.â He struggled to conceal the surprise in his voice, seemingly struggling further to keep the thickness in his throat at bay, the redness of his eyes that displayed days of restlessness and insomnia. âYou alright?âÂ
âYeah,â you murmured impassively, licking your lips, swallowing away the dryness in your throat at the state of him: burning cigarette in hand, flannel shirt unbuttoned and displaying the white wifebeater that lay underneath. The shape of his belly was visible underneath it, his belt purposefully unbuckled and hanging from the loops of his jeans. âIâm alright.âÂ
There was a twitch of his lips as he stared down at you, eyes flitting from head to toeâshameless in the way he always was. In the way you liked.Â
âYou sure?âÂ
It seemed stupid suddenly: the entire situation. The call you felt towards him, the want you had to curl up against his chest, let him hold you and tell you he was proud of you for opening up to himâtelling him how fucking much you wanted him, despite knowing exactly how it would end if you were to venture further into a relationship that surpassed just neighbours.Â
So instead of inviting yourself in, seducing him until he fell to his knees, tugged you by the waist and begged you for just the smallest piece of yourself, you succumbed to your insecurity, and retreated from the palace walls.Â
âYeahâŚyeah, itâs just that my taps leaking again.â For a split second, he almost looked irritated, eyes honing in on you, narrowing with a look of aggravationâconfirmed by the clench of his jaw. You appeased him, saying, âYou donât have to come over now. I just thought Iâd tell you,â and the expression slowly slipped away into something much more sinister: mirth.Â
âSure thing, pretty girl,â he said as he slinked away from the doorframe, inviting you into his home, coaxing you past the threshold as he fumbled about in the fridge and pulled out two beers.Â
Contemplating, you stared at him, the flex of his muscles as he uncapped each bottle, the stature and size of him as he hunched over the counters, turning around to hold out a drink to you. An invitation. One that you had expected youâd have to give yourselfâthat youâd have to kick and cry before he ever let himself find you.Â
âJust have a drink,â he soothed in that southern lull of his, the words rolling from his tongue with ease. As if he had practised the scenario before he knew it would befall him. âNo point in worrying over your tap, I canât do anything until I buy new washers. Iâm out 'cause of you.âÂ
The irritation heâd shown earlier seemed palpable nowâas if he was inviting you into his home simply to make you as uncomfortable as possible, hold you down by the hips until you promised to leave him alone. A taunt, a ploy to make sure you would never get what you wanted.Â
However, you had never stepped foot in his trailer, had only ever been on his porch and ran your hand over the chair he frequented, wondering what it looked like beyond the four walls, and curiosity prevailed as it always did.Â
Uncertainly, you stepped onto the carpet, gently closing the door behind you, and mumbled a thank you as you took the beer from his hand.Â
Almost immediately, you felt like apologising for his irrational emotions.Â
âIâm sorry,â you muttered. âI didnât mean to put you out. Iâll pay for whatever you need-â
âYou pay in ways you donât know. I donât need your money.âÂ
The cryptic way in which he spoke, the casualness as he gave you a look that hinted at something you couldnât decipher and the slow saunter to his armchair left you in a state of uncertainty. Standing there, with a beer wetting your hand, a frown on your face and a furrowed brow, you had no idea where to go next. What would await you if you questioned himâthe things you would discover that were best left in the hands of God and no one else.Â
Again, curiosity thrust its violent hand into your stomach and forced your feet to start moving towards him, hoping that heâd appreciate your braveryâyour denial of your urges to run far away. It was noted, however, that Joel Miller could care less about bravery. That the quality itself was right down at the bottom of the ladder and that he could and would not give a shit if you welcomed his advances in spite of your lack of courage.Â
Hesitantly, you planted yourself on his couch, the furniture built into the wall, curving into an L shape where you imagined heâd kick his feet up after a long day, palm the bulge in his jeans and pick from the litany of porn that you took one glance at and thought better than to stare at it too long in case he felt offended by your interest.Â
The discovery admittedly took away a little of his allure.Â
âMake yourself at home,â he insisted, taking a sip of his beer and urging you to do the same with a single nod of his head. The slight twitch of his lips when you did so caused your body to go squirming, shifting uncomfortably in your seat as the fire raged within youâunable to be sated with the way he looked at you then.Â
Just a scoff, a sip, and a glance at your lips before he turned away completely and focused his attention on the blank TV screenâ his reflection the only entertainment.Â
Silence grew uncomfortable, the bitter taste of alcohol coating the back of your throat, dripping down your oesophagus and choking any words that you wished to say. The heat emanating from him was overpowering even from the distance you sat apart, the scent of cigarettes overwhelming, so much so that you needed a distraction, anything to dull the rest of your senses from shutting downâall because of his powerful presence; the effect he had on you even when he sat still and awaited your call.Â
âWhat did you mean?â The words came tumbling from your mouth, driven by an insatiable desire and lacklustre confidence you had somewhere deep in the pits of your stomach, bubbling with the acid that nestled there until it rose to the surfaceâbile transforming into questions that could leave you in a shell of humiliation. At his furrowed brow, you expanded. âAbout me paying in ways I donât know.âÂ
He leaned forward in his seat, elbows resting on his knees. Sombre, all of a sudden. Staring into the barrel of his bottle, the brown glass reflecting like constellations on his faceâaccentuating the sharp angle of his jawline, the sunken hollows of his cheekbones.Â
When his eyes nestled on yours, burrowing right into your skull, you couldnât move. Couldnât even fathom the thought of taking a lungful of air, waiting with your breath held tight inside, for his answer.Â
âYou shouldnât go asking questions like that.â He sipped quietly, wetting his lips by flicking his tongue in and out, averting his gaze back to the shadow of himself in the television. âYouâll get yourself in trouble.âÂ
It was not the answer you wished for, eyes downcast, focused on your shaking knee as you tried to gauge some form of clarity beneath the mystery that clouded the gates to his headâwhat lay beneath his skull; what you wished to find.Â
Against your better judgment, you pressed further, keeping the beer bottle clutched between your hands and hoping it would stay cold forever.Â
âI can handle myself.â It came out more confident than you had expected, your bobbing knee ceasing its movement, your dry throat provided with moisture. A break from the anxious sweat you had broken out in. âIf you donât tell me Iâll just leave a hundred dollars on your doorstep and leave you alone.âÂ
You hoped quietly, in that stifling room, that he would make sure it didnât come to that. That he would let you pay in any way he saw fit. You hoped that the sad hulk of a man sitting in the lone chair with porn in every drawer and money set aside for whores, would let you have himâbring back a semblance of light to his eyes. Find out what kept the despondency trapped so tight around him, the crown of thorns on his head expanding until it reached his feet and kept him locked in nature's prisonâskin scratched, bloody and unable to be healed unless he found someone willing to cut through the overgrowth.Â
He seemed to bristle at your words, shoulders tightening, jaw clenching in the manner he did when he was irritated. Youâd seen it before when Dale had been drunk and had followed you home. When youâd stumbled uncomfortably to your trailer and pleaded Joel who sat on his porch, almost looking like he was waiting for you, to get him off your back. That tick, the downturn of his brow, the twitch of his lip, the look so intimidating you had rushed inside and watched through the window as Joel clapped a hand on Daleâs back and ushered him away from you.
You had no idea what heâd done after theyâd left your sight but Dale barely looked at you after. The last interaction youâd had with him was the morning after when heâd knocked on your door, timid for a fifty-year-old man, and apologised. Joel had been there, like he almost always wasâalways dancing in your peripheral, waiting for you, taunting youâwith a cup of coffee clasped between two hands and a smug look on his face when he watched the interaction.Â
âYou ainât as smart as you think you are,â he uttered, slipping you away from the vignette and shattering the memory with his simple words.Â
They stung. More than you cared to admit.Â
Men were never this difficult, never this hard to get through to, never this confusing. He had given you every possible sign, every protection, every knowing look that confessed: you are everything I wish to have.Â
It seemed every day he was further from you, every day he looked at you and thought that he was blinded by loneliness and that you were the last thing he needed to dote on.Â
With the rejection, came vexation, a rumbling little thing that forced its way into your mouthâlips parting to let it out.Â
âYouâre not as discreet as you think you are.â As soon as they fell, the rest came following like a herd of bulls, a huge red flag flying through the air, right where Joel sat. They came for him, and you didnât care enough to stop them. âIâm not stupid, no matter what you say.âÂ
The tick, tick, tick of his jaw. That subtle way his eyes narrowed, honing in on everything but the thing causing his problems, trying desperately to stop the truths from betraying his conceptions.Â
âI see you, Joel. I see you through my bedroom window, using me as your personal stripper because youâre too fucking cheap to go down to the strip club and give a tip.â The push and pull was becoming apparent, the sympathy and disgust you held for him all at once growing and growing until all that prevailed was rage. That after everything, he still refused. That he was still a fucking coward no matter how many faces he pulled at anyone who looked at him wrong. You would not be deterred by the look he gave you then: one that shouldâve made you shrink away in fear he would do something rash. âI see the way you looked at me from day fucking one. Just a pair of tits to stare at, a new young girl that you can prey on-â
âStop.âÂ
âIâm not stupid.â Your voice was rising rapidly, your lips downturned in a scowl, unable to see the danger that befell you if you continued. âI know how you talk about me to your friends, I know that you make a show of being this immovable thing that no one can ever get to because youâre so wrapped up in your own self-pity that you canât even admit to yourself that the only thing you are is a fucking pervert. And an asshole.âÂ
âYou are crossing a line, little girl.âÂ
His words fell on deaf ears, a scoff coming from the back of your throatâso many things that you wanted to say but couldnât voice. You settled for a final, blow. One that might kick him off his feet.Â
âI know you stole my panties.â Jaw ticking, teeth grinding so hard they were liable to turn to dust in his mouth. âTook them right off my bathroom floor. Could you not help yourself? Are you that sad, Joel? Are you that much of a fucking perve-âÂ
Silenced by the way he towered, standing upright, bottle discarded by the leg of his chair and fury dancing in his eyesâso apparent and profound you finally stopped and cowered.Â
âYou donât know a thing about me.âÂ
You were stunned into submission, finally on the end of his intimidationâa feat that was sure to happen sooner rather than later. You were just another Dale, just another one of his victims that he shot down with narrowed eyes and a nasty tone of voice that forced you to swallow down the confidenceâsending it right back to your stomach, and burning the false assurance away.Â
âI have been cordial with you for as long as possible.â There was danger in the way he spoke so calmly, a tremor in your hands as he stepped forward, facing you completely, and kneeled before youâeyes boring into yours, forcing you to look at him with the hand he placed on the couch beside you. âIâve tried my hardest to be respectable but you make it so damn difficult.âÂ
âIâm sorry,â you began, wishing you could take it all back, wishing that you couldâve used your boldness for better: crawled into his lap and let him hold you, sank to your knees like he and worshipped him with every bit of yourself you had.
âSh, sh, sh,â he shook his head, the hand on the couch, moving, the weight of it resting there dissipating and falling even heavier on the side of your face. âYou canât take it back now.âÂ
Nerves slipped like rapids through your stomach, the damn thing churning so much you began to feel sick with the anticipation and fear you felt being closer to him than you ever had been before. Your mouth opened as if to speak, then closed again when you realised that your throat had closed, the inside of your mouth dry and unable to lubricate your words with credibility as they fell from your lips.
âYou think Iâm a pervert?â he asked, eyes expecting an answer, eyebrows raising to help you find a response. âHm?âÂ
âYes.â The monosyllable fell shakily, unable to lie when he was looking at you so harshly, all whilst stroking your cheekbone with his thumb and engulfing the right side of your face with one, big, warm hand.Â
He nodded with knowing, his other hand falling to your bare knee. You were crowded by him, completely consumed by his presence and with a harsh swallow, you hoped that he would slip away and allow you to breatheâif only for a moment.Â
âI know,â he said with finality, your cheek whacked with cold air as he removed his hand, quickly providing you with warmth again as he pressed his thumb to your chin, holding it delicately. Making sure you couldnât look away from him. âBut you like it, donât you?â he brushed the bottom of your lip with his nail, an uncontrollable shiver running through you that he revelled in.
Heâd called your bluff entirely. Heâd locked you up in his cage, gave you the upper hand for just a second, made you believe that you could get away from him if you kicked and screamed enough, only to leave you hopeless as he twisted the key to the right, and threw the metal that granted you freedom, into the fire.Â
âIf you had an issue with me looking, youâd close the drapes. Youâre a smart girl, Iâm sure it ainât too hard for you.âÂ
His patronisation, his demeanour that consisted of arousal and determination, had a small breath puffing from your lungs, a sudden and overwhelming heat crawling from each of his hands and into your headâbreaking your rationale and leaving you pliable and willing in his grasp. Heâd got you. Right there. And if he wanted you, you would let him have you.Â
âAnd if you didnât want me to steal your panties, then you shouldnât have left them there.âÂ
It was unbelievable, the way he twisted the blame onto you, the way he made you believe in everything he was saying with a simple swipe of his thumb over your bottom lip and a look in his eyes that stopped you from questioning him.Â
âYes, Joel, Iâm sorry, Joel,â were the only words swimming through your head: words that you wouldâve spoken aloud had he not stunned you into silence, the hand on your knee sliding along your skin, up towards the hem of your shorts where he slipped his fingers under and skimmed the skin concealed by the denim.Â
âYou understand me, little girl?âÂ
âIâm not a little girl,â you managed, voice shaky as the warmth of him engulfed you entirely, wrapped up in the scent of him, the feel of the callouses along your smooth skin and the eyes piercing you. If looks could killâŚif those pretty eyes could rip you apart with the viciousness of their stare.Â
âNo you ainât,â he murmured, gripping your chin, thumb rubbing along the flesh of your bottom lip, the skin bouncing as he peeled it back and let go. âI know you ainât.âÂ
There seemed a flood came over his being, a white wave of purity dowsing him, ridding him of every adulteration and forcing sense back into his head as the hand fell from your face, the one on your inner thigh taking longer to slip away before the cloud of insensibility faded and he arrived to a semblance of morality.Â
You watched as he stumbled over to the kitchen, hand working over the scruff he called a beard and forced his eyes away from you.Â
âJoel,â you called softly, finally gaining back a little strength now he wasnât crowding you; forcing you to look at him and make the first move so his conscience could be clean.Â
âJust go.â The words were uttered much softer than before, the delicacy of his voice surprising you but the strain that coated his throat a reminder that this was still Joel Miller. Dangerously beautiful Joel Miller with a lifetime of terror stashed somewhere in the backrooms of his mind, a darkness in the depths of his eyes you couldnât help but be frightened by, and a story you wished he would tell. A story that stretched years back to the life before he crept past the opening gates of Shady Springs Mobile Park and left a life that you had no clue wether had been better or worse than his life now. âIâll come over tomorrow afternoon and have a look at that tap. You might have to get maintenance round soon though if it keeps up.âÂ
âI donât like strangersâŚin my house.â Your words trailed off at the end of your sentence, caught up in the possibilities of your words and how he would reply. If he would see right through you and clock how youâd only spoken because the tap was one of the biggest ties you had to Joel. If he would realise that youâd thought about getting maintenance months ago when it first started dripping but didnât want a permanent fix, no matter how annoying. All because of Joel Miller and the way heâd perversely captured you in the plot of some barely legal porno that you wouldâve turned your nose up at if it was anyone but him and you.Â
You and Joel.Â
The thought sounded niceâthe reality a little less nicer.Â
âYeah, wellâŚâ he leant back on the countertops, arms crossed over his chest, eyes bloodshot and bordered by blackâan undeniable piece of evidence that Joel perhaps wasnât doing as well as he made everyone believe; that there was something deeper tugging at his mind and causing such aggravation.Â
After a moments silence, when he looked at you and you looked right back at him, your head clear and working properly again, you diverted the conversation elsewhereâa ploy to hack deeper at his head and find what lay underneath his skull.Â
âAre you okay?â Simple, easy. Not difficult to ascertain the concern laced deep in your tone because you were concerned for him. The moment heâd opened the door after days of barely seeing him, time spent cursing the fact he could peer through your windows but you could not peer through his, you knew something was wrong. That there was something happening to him. Something dangerous. Your sympathy began to overtake everything else, memory shed of all the times he had wronged you and replaced with the very little he had done right. âYou lookâŚtired. Exhausted, really.âÂ
âIâm fine,â he said with finality, the rage in his eyes returning but with less power this time. The fatigue was setting in, the constant running from himself finally catching up to him.Â
âAre you sure?â
âI said Iâm fine.â It shut you up well enough, so much so that you began to lose the commiserations. You could always say you tried. âNow get out of my house.âÂ
It was the final thing he said to you before he slipped away, striding down the hallway, footsteps echoing until he reached the bedroom; the click of the door resounding throughout the trailer.Â
You stared at the spot where heâd kneeled, a finger brushing softly over your lip before shaking away the self-pity and gently placing the beer bottle on the table that sat next to his chair.Â
Looking one last time at the door at the end of the hallway, shadowed and guarded by snapping dogs, you opened the door, the damn thing creaking as if to shout to everyone within a mile radius that you had made no progress with the man you desperately wanted, and stepped out. Leaving your pride on the doorstep.Â
Š virginreprise
thanks for reading !
#virginrepriseâ˘#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#joel miller fanfiction#the last of us#the last of us 2#tlou#tlou2#joel tlou#the last of us fanfiction
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sex pollen with tasm?
Interlinked
--genre + trope: sex pollen, SMUT, fluff, nsfw.
--pairing: tasm!peter parker x afab!reader
--word count: 1.5k
--warnings: SMUT, unprotected PinV (don't even think about it), multiple orgasms, creampie, kissing, mentions of being sore, fluff at the end.
--gif credits: @tvandfilm
If you could live in this moment, you would. Youâre sitting on Peterâs bed, faint rhythms of his music playing in the background. Having your laptop open, you were able to look through the work you needed to finish before the day was done. Having Peter next to you puts you in a state of ease. You knew he was right next to you, you knew he was safe.Â
Peterâs spent the last hour or so working on new varieties of web fluid, mixing together different chemicals to see if anything would change. He already had a few things in a large beaker, swirling it around occasionally, when he mixed in a powder of some sort. The reaction caused a small ignition, causing you to look up from your spot on the mattress. âWhat was that,â you ask, looking for his reaction to gauge how severe this was.Â
He rises from his chair, âIâm not sure, but letâs open the windows.â
You climb towards the windows of his room, pulling them open to let fresh air in, and whatever was in the air, out. You werenât aware of this yet, but your skin was absorbing the particles in the air, and every breath you took allowed the unknown reaction to enter your system. And, of course, Peter was in the direct line of the reaction, causing the particles to make their way directly onto his face, the fragments fluttering onto his cheeks.Â
Peterâs heightened senses caused him to feel the effects of the reaction much quicker than you. His pupils dilated, the hairs on his arms stand, and he starts to feel warm. Stepping away from the window, he looks over at you, and suddenly, he is hyperfocused on you. The smell of the perfume you applied hours ago is now flooding his nose, your heart rate has elevated, and much to your dismay, he also took note of the growing wetness in between your thighs.Â
Youâre the first to speak up, âPete,â your voice is shaky with concern, âWhatâs going on? Why do I feel weird?â
He rubs his hands along his face, trying to come up with an answer, but the growing ache in his cock cuts him short, âBug, IâI donât know, but I need to go.â He doesnât know whatâs happening, but his now primal urge to get to you scares him. He needed to get away from you.
His answer only made you more nervous, âWait! Baby, donât leave.â You reach out, grabbing his hand. The touch between you two felt like waves of pure energy, you pulled your hand back quickly, rubbing the area that just touched him, âPlease, donât leave, Iâm scared and I donât know what to do, especially not alone.â
âIâm sorryâŚI justâIâm so confused, Iâ,â heâs cut off by a kiss.Â
You were hungry for him, your lips devouring his. Peter didnât seem to care, he needed this as much as you did. Craving more of his touch, your hands reach down towards the bottom of his torso. You slide your palms along the sides of his shirt, running them along the front of him, quickly undressing him in the process. As soon as you reached the top of his chest, you slipped the shirt over his head, tossing the garment over your shoulder.Â
He unlatches from your lips, takes a breath, and mutters the last coherent sentence said for the rest of the night, âWill you let me have you tonight?â A smirk displays itself on your lips, and an eager nod gives him all he needs at that moment.Â
Walking towards the bed, you stumble back blindly before the back of your knees are met with the bed, causing you to fall back onto the plush mattress. Peter stands above you, licking his lips as he places himself above you, caging you in his arms. Attacking your lips, Peter moves one of his hands to palm at the flesh of your hip, reaching underneath your underwear to make direct contact with your bare skin.Â
You moan into his mouth, the skin-to-skin contact igniting a wave of pleasure to flow to your core. He takes note of your increased desperation for more of his touch, moving his hand from your hip to your aching clit, making small circles on the slick skin. Arching your back into his chest, you reach your hands up to grasp at his shoulders, the sudden pleasure shocking you. Peter unlatches from your lips to look at you below him, the sight making his cock ache with need. It only takes a few more circles on your clit to make you cum, but still, you needed more.Â
You waste no time, pulling off every piece of clothing on your body, before you reach down towards Peterâs jeans, pushing them down as far as possible before Peter has to kick the rest of them off. Thereâs a silent exchange of glances before he lines up with your entrance. A quick nod signals to Peter that youâre ready.Â
Lifting both of your ankles to rest on his shoulders, he finally pushes inside of you. The world around you stops. For a few seconds, there is a sigh of relief, the ache youâve been meaning to satisfy has dissipated. You thought you found the cure, but the clench of your walls snapped you out of your relief. Peter seemed to realize this too as a moan left his lips, his head dipping forward. The desperation returned, and you needed Peter to move. âBabyâŚplâplease. Move,â you manage to mumble.Â
He starts to sink into you further, stretching you out in the process. Every movement causes you to squeeze him a little tighter, and he doesnât know how heâs going to last, especially with those whimpers leaving your mouth. He canât stand to keep moving at this pace, every second spent not pounding you into the mattress is a second wasted. He needs you, desperately. Peter pulls almost all the way out, exerting a pathetic whine from you before he slams back into your entrance. The pressure of his cock dragging along your walls made you claw at his neck, the angle of your legs pressed against your chest making you see stars.Â
Youâre not sure how long heâs been fucking you, but your hips have started to become sore, and the number of times youâve come is blurring between four or five times. The effects of whatever hit you earlier are slowly wearing off, but Peter hasnât let up. If you had to guess, you would assume that his senses and increased stamina have allowed him to feel everything you felt, but increased tenfold.Â
Itâs gotten to the point where you know that Peterâs not even trying to make you cum again, heâs using you for his own pleasure, and that in itself is enough for you to cum again and again and again. His hips stutter and his brows furrow, you know heâs right there, heâs just about to cum, and itâs killing him. Bringing your hand up to hold his cheek, he snaps his eyes open, tears are lining his waterline. You pull his face down, connecting your lips together. The extra touch of your lips pushes him over the edge. As he finishes inside of you, he lets out a grunt into your mouth, this action alone making you moan back, the thought of him cumming inside of you lights a fire inside of you.Â
Your lips detach from his, taking a deep breath before you feel Peterâs fingers reach up toward your calves, slowly bringing them down onto the bed. He guides them down, knowing that the position has led to soreness in their hips. When you feel the plush blanket touch your thighs, you finally are able to come to your senses.Â
Peter comes down to lay next to you on his stomach, looking at your side profile. Closing your eyes, you feel the weight of exhaustion finally hit you. Thereâs no way youâre leaving this bed any time soon, and Peter knows that too. You donât feel Peterâs warmth next to you anymore. Opening your eyes, you look over to where he shouldâve been, then to the doorway. There he was, holding a glass of water, walking to your side, and placing it on the table next to you.Â
Then, falling into the bed, he remains next to you. âWhatever you did for that web fluid,â your voice cutting through the silent air, âwrite it down, and make sure to put it somewhere safe.âÂ
Youâre still looking up at the ceiling as Peter grabs your hand, raising it to his lips and giving you a kiss, âI will, I will. Iâll lock it upâŚonly until you ask me to use it again.â Looking towards him, a stupid smile is firmly locked onto his lips, a hint of amusement in his eyes.Â
You shake your head in disbelief, âOh, like you wonât want to use it again next week.â
âWeâll see about that, bug.â
--author's note: this is my favorite smut trope, and i'm still awful at writing it LMAOOO. also what happened to these remaining blurbs??? my incapability to write smut blurbs is insane, but anyways i hope you liked it!!! also the gif??? i'm foaming at the mouth and ripping at these iron bars...don't forget to support your writers by liking, commenting, and reblogging!! KEEP SENDING IN ASKS!!! my inbox is open my loves! ok, bye ily<3
#andrew garfield peter parker#peter parker#peter parker x reader#marvel#fluff#spiderman#tasm!peter x reader#tasm!peter parker#peter parker smut#tasm! peter x reader#tasm!peter x you#tasm spiderman#tasm peter parker#the amazing spiderman
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Opening night at Pete's Place! 3 for 1 Shots please! Jake with a breeding kink
OOOO this hit right awayyyyy
word count: 094 | warnings: breeding kink, choking, jakes filthy mouth
it's opening night at pete's place!
''You feel me, sugar?'' Jake gasps, hand tightening around your neck as you're pulled harder, deeper against his pistoning hips. ''Feel me deep in that tight little cunt, hmm?''
You squeezed your eyes closed as his fingers flexed against your throat, pulling you upward against his chest; unable to say a single word, just melodic moans that flowed out into the room.
''Jake, please,'' You managed out. ''S'too much, I can't-''
''You can,'' Jake grunted in reply before nipping your ear. ''Gonna fill you up- gonna fuckin' breed you, sugar. Can't leave us then.''
#jake jensen#chris evans#lila answers#pete's place opening night#pete's place#jake - pete's place#these are gonna be short and filthy#i dont wanna reveal too much about these boys just yet <333#nonnie req#chris evans smut#jake jensen smut#jake jensen imagine#jake jensen fic#chris evans fic
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âA Bullseye to the Heartâ (Ch. 1)
Jake âHangmanâ Seresin x Latina Reader
Blurb: You were once the best female pilot at Top Gun. That was until a mission ended very badly. Now, 3 years later, you're somewhat healed and dating a man who takes advantage of your trauma. Now, you work at Hard Deck, the closest you could allow yourself to Top Gun, when your old friends come back... including a new guy you don't know; and to say he's intrigued by you is an understatement. But when your boyfriend decides to lay hands on you in front of him and your friends, all hell breaks loose.
Contents: Domestic Abuse, Swearing, bar fight, some fluff(??)
Word count: 3,160
I hope you all enjoy! I'll try to update it as much as I can.
Chapter 1
You never thought you would step foot in Hard Deck after everything that happened two years ago, never mind work there. It was oddly comforting and your therapist said it could help with the trauma you endured. So when Penny gave you a job as a bartender and server, you jumped at the opportunity.Â
Anything to be close to something you once loved.
Youâre in the middle of cleaning out the dirty dishes bin when you hear the creaking of someone walking into the bar.Â
âWeâre closed,â you say. âCome back at 8.â
âOh, Iâm not here for a drink,â a manâs voice says. âIâm here to see Penny. Is she in?â
You turn toward the voice to see a man in a leather jacket with multiple patches usually worn by naval aviators. His dark hair is perfectly styled and when he takes off a pair of aviator glasses, he exposes his hazel eyes.Â
âYou must be Pete,â you said with a smile. âShe told me youâd be coming around. Sheâs in the her office if you wanna go back there.â
He nods and makes his way toward the back of the bar. He stops at the entrance before turning to face you with a soft smile. âIâm glad youâre back, Y/L/N.â
Startled, you ask, âHow do you know my name?â
âI work at Top Gun. Iâve heard stories and seen your pictures all over the place.â Pete smiles before turning serious and adding, âI really am glad youâre back. Admiral Simpson told me a lot of great things when he was your instructor.â
You take a deep but shaky breath before nodding, lips pulled tight before you say, âThank you.â
You eye his jacket to see his rank and frown. âCaptain?â
âYeah, Captain.â Pete nods. When your brow lifts, he adds, âItâs a long story.â
âIâll look forward to hearing it,â you smile.Â
âI have a new class starting up today, maybe youâll see some of my guys,â he says. âYou may see some familiar faces.â
And with that, Pete walks into Pennyâs office, leaving you reeling and wondering who youâll see later.
* Â * Â *
Later that night, Hard Deck is packed with Naval Aviators and civilians. Itâs loud, chaotic, and joyful for the most part. People are playing pool, throwing darts, and having a great time getting drunk.
It reminds you of the good old days, back when you werenât traumatized and living with an abusive man.
Youâve just finished putting a couple of beers in front of a group of civilians when you hear someone call your name.Â
âY/N!âÂ
You turn just in time to see Bradley âRoosterâ Bradshaw, smiling ear to ear with his signature mustache sitting on his top lip.Â
âRooster!â You exclaim. âI canât believe youâre here!â
âYeah, Iâve been assigned here for the next couple of months, some sort of mission. You know how that is,â he drawls, smiling to himself. He looks you up and down before saying, âYou look good, y/n.â
Youâre wearing a simple black, V-neck shirt with a pair of jeans and Converse. The compliment makes you smile and wave his comment off. âIâm sure you tell all the girls that.â
âNope,â he smiles. âJust you.â
âSo whatâre you having, and how many?â you ask.Â
âIâll have seven of your lovely beers,â he chuckles. âYou should come over to the pool tables, Phoenix would love to see you.â
âMy girl is here?â You ask excitedly.
âOf course. Iâll send her over for the next round,â Rooster says, watching as you expertly open all six of the beers quickly. âWhat time are you off?â
You check your AppleWatch before saying, âIn about two hours.â
âCome meet us over there when youâre off,â Rooster smiles, pointing at the pool table across the way. âAnd Y/N, Iâm glad youâre back in some way. Weâve missed you.â
âThanks, Roo. I guess Iâve missed you.â
You watch as he walks off, noting the people he approaches. Phoenix practically breaks her neck looking in your direction, Coyote, Fanboy, Payback, and Bob smile and wave; and thereâs another guy there you donât recognize. He has sandy blonde hair, tanned skin, and an award-winning smile. From the bar, you can see his green eyes sliding over your body, checking you out. You cross your arms over your chest and cock a brow in question. When he waves at you with a cocky grin, you have to fight a smile from forming on your face.
It was cute but youâre taken.Â
Unfortunately.
Youâve been dating Nick Abernathy for the past year or two and while it was very fun and loving in the beginning, now you canât stand to look him in the eye.Â
Not after what happened the last time you were at Top Gun. And especially not after how he reacted and treated you everyday after.
Speaking of the devil, you hear your boyfriend, call out your name to the left. âY/N!â
You turn to see Nick, the man you once loved so much, smiling down at you. Heâs all blonde hair and dark brown eyes, broad shouldered, and muscules; a naval pilot.Â
Your type. Again, unfortunately.
âWhatâs my favortie lady doing looking at those aviators?â he asks. To the untrained ear, it sounds like heâs being playful. But you know the truth, and you know youâll hearâand feelâit later.
âJust some old buddies of mine,â you tell him.
âRight,â he says, eyes narrowing. He moves a hand, reaching out to grip your wrist. âIâll be waiting to take you home after your shift.â
âYou donât have to do that,â you tell him, smiling sweetly to hide the growing dread in your chest.Â
âWhat kind of a man would I be if I didnât drive my girlfriend home?â Nick seethes, looking beyond you. âBesides, I donât like the way those aviators are looking at you.â
You turn your head toward where you know Rooster and the rest of the aviator group watch the interaction. Their faces are all hard, ready to defend at your âokayâ. You send them a small wave and reassuring smile before turning back to Nick who is now practically red in anger.
âTheyâre just friends,â You tell him, fear begins to prickle all over your body. âI met them when I was at Top Gun.â
Before Nick can say anything, Penny comes into view, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. âHey, can you stay another couple of hours? Pete wants to take me out and I canât close early tonight.â
Relief fills you immediately when you reply, âYeah, I can stay until closing.â
âGood,â Penny smiles. Then, as if seeing Nick for the first time, says to him, âDonât worry about picking her up. I saw her drive here.â
Nickâs jaw clentches before he smiles, drops your arm, and responds, âOh, I mustâve gotten confused.â
He turns to you before saying, âIâll see you at home.â
Penny stays by your side until Nick finally leaves before turning you to face her and saying, âGo clock out. Iâll take it from here.â
âI thought you wereââ
âI told him that so he would leave you alone,â Penny states, rubbing your shoulder. âGo catch up with Rooster and the gang. Just stay until closing so I can follow you home.â
âThanks, Penny.â
You turn to leave, smiling to yourself and looking at the ground, when you feel someoneâs eyes on you again. You glance in the direction of where Rooster and the rest of them are to find the green-eyed aviator that was checking you out before, staring.Â
Creep.
You clock out before grabbing a beer from Penny and making your way toward the group.
âHey!â Phoenix exclaims at the sight of you walking closer. Then, pulling you into a bear hug, says, âCome here, Bullseye! Iâve missed you.â
âIâve missed you too, Nat.â You smile, smoothing her hair when she pulls away.
âBullseye?â the green-eyed aviator asks, Texan accent drawling and sending shivers down your spine.Â
âYouâre looking at the most badass female aviator Iâve ever met,â Phoenix tells him. âThe best at shooting too.â
âIs that why your call-sign is Bullseye?â he asks you.Â
You square your shoulders before smirking and replying, âYes.â
âIâll spoil it for you,â Rooster laughs. âSheâs terrible at darts.â
âFirst of all, I was drunk!â you exclaim with a laugh. âI wouldâve gotten that bullseye if you hadnât bumped into me!â
âMhmm, blame the alcohol,â Rooster teases.Â
âSo, Y/N, who was that guy you were talking to?â Coyote asks.Â
âYeah, didnât look like a good conversation,â Bob adds.Â
âUm, my boyfriend, Nick,â you respond, feeling Green Eyes stare at you. âSoon-to-be ex.â
âWhy soon-to-be?â Fanbooy asks.
âJust,â you trail off. âWe fell apart.â
âDidnât look that way from our angle,â Green Eyes mutters.Â
âIâm sorry,â You say, turning toward him. âWho are you?â
Green Eyes grins before outstretching a hand and saying, âJake Seresin, Hangman. You can choose what you call me.â
âHangman?â you ask, quirking a brow. âLike the game?â
âThe one and only,â he responds coyly.Â
âYouâre looking at the only naval aviator with one confirmed air-to-air kill,â Phoenix tells you. âHeâs also a dickhead.â
âOh, stop. Youâre being too sweet,â Hangman grins. He turns toward the bar and frowns. âIsnât that your soon-to-be ex?â
Your spine stiffens. You donât have to turn to know that Nick is standing at the bar, eyeing you from one of the barstools. Your eyes widen when you see him throw back a shot of what you know is whiskey. He turns aggressive when he drinks so this should be fun.
âYou okay there, Y/L/N?â Phoenix asks.
âI have to go,â You say, starting to walk toward him. However, you feel a hand on your arm and turn to see Rooster looking down at you, concern written all over his face.Â
âYouâre not going over there alone,â he tells you. Turning to the group, he tells them, âWeâre with her, I donât like the way he grabbed her the last time he was in here.â
The group give affirming nods, all except Hangman.Â
âIâve got this,â you tell Rooster. âHeâs harmless.â
You knew it was a lie as soon as it left your lips and so did Rooster. His dark brown eyes narrow on you before he takes a swig of his beer and says, âWeâll be close by.â
You curtly nod before cracking your neck and handing Phoenix your beer. So much for relaxing.Â
You make the short walk to where Nick sits at the bar, feeling Pennyâs eyes half on you and on another customer. Behind, you can feel the gaze of your friends as they watch you stand before Nick.Â
âWhatâre you doing?â You ask.Â
âI was about to ask the same thing,â he says. âSee, I called the Hard Deck line and they told me you had clocked out. But I remember Penny telling me that you were staying until closing.â
âNickââ
âDonât,â he orders. âWeâre going home. Now.â
âI donât think so,â You boldly announce.
Youâre just as surprised as Nick by the looks of it, so when he aggressively grabs your jaw and brings you close, you lock up completely.Â
âThat wasnât a request, Y/N,â Nick tells you darkly. His face is hard, you glance down at his hand by his hips and see that itâs clenched tightly.Â
âNick,â You start. âLetâs just go. Letâs not do this here.â
âWhy not? You don't want your buddies to see how much of a cunt you are?â he spits. âLet them see what happens when you try to act like youâre single.âÂ
âYouâre hurting me,â You softly say. Nick scoffs before frowning at something behind you.Â
Not something, but a couple of somethings.Â
âLet her go,â you hear Hangman say. His Texan charm all the way off and threatening.
âThis has nothing of concern to you,â Nick spits.
âHow about you let her go, and we wonât beat the shit out of you,â Phoenix says, her hand on your lower back in comfort.
Nick obeys, pushing you to the left and into the bar top harshly before taking a few steps toward Phoenix. You turn, watching as Phoenix stands her ground, not flinching when Nick tries too scare her by flinching forward. Rooster comes between the two of them, almost touching Nickâs nose with his own. The bar falls silent, all eyes on the interaction.Â
âRoos,â You start. âItâs fine. Iâll go home with him.â
âNo,â Rooster says to you, eyes glued on Nick. âYouâre staying with Phoenix until he leaves your apartment.â
âRooster, I canââ
âThat wasnât a request, Y/n,â he booms. To Nick, he says, âHereâs whats gonna happen. Youâre gonna leave and start packing your shit. When she comes home tomorrow, and weâll be there to confirm, youâll be out of there and her life for god. Got it?â
Nick smiles before tapping Roosterâs chest, hard. âSo you were the one she used to fuck when she was an aviator. Tell me, Rooster, do you think sheâll open her pretty legs for you again?â
Rooster only smiles back before turning to his left where Fanboy and Coyote stand near you. âGet Y/N to the pool tables.â
Before they can grab you, Nick reaches out and squeezes your wrist tight before pulling you close to him. âYouâll have to peel her off me.â
âLet her go, Iâve called the police to remove you,â Penny says from behind the bar. âYour Captain wonât be happy to receive a call from jail.â
Nick clenches his jaw before slowly letting your wrist go and pushing you an arms length away. Before you have time to run into Coyoteâs arms, Nickâs fist is flying toward your face in slow motion. When it finally makes contact with your cheek, you stumble, falling into someoneâs arms and being dragged back before all hell breaks loose.Â
The bar is filled with shouting and the sound of glass shattering. And yet, all you can focus on is the way Rooster, Coyote, and Payback block Nick from rushing toward you. Youâre so engrained on the commotion before you, you donât hear when Hangman calls out your name.
Jake was a lot of things, but a hero was not on his roster. As soon as he saw Nick hit you, he went into full-on hero mode, pulling you into him and rushing you both to the pool tables. The look of shock paints your face as he watches you stare at the commotion before you.Â
Iâm in deep shit if she wants to go over there because Iâm not letting her out of my arms.
âHey,â Hangman soothes. âY/N, was it?â
You snap your head toward him and he has to fight to keep from sucking in a breath. Up close, you were gorgeous, even with that shiner growing on your left eye.Â
âAre you okay?â he asks.
âIâm fine,â You say, realizing who youâre sitting on and then standing from his lap. âI have to get over there.â
Hangman knew youâd say that so he stands with you, and shakes his head. âNo, I donât think Rooster would like that very much.â
âWell, itâs a good thing Rooster isnât here,â You tease before breaking for a sprint. Only, you donât go far because Hangman has his arms around your waist in seconds.Â
âYouâre a slippery one arenât you?âÂ
âI just want to get Nick out of here,â You whisper.Â
Hangman searches your eyes, sensing every ounce of truth radiating from them. Matching you, he whispers, âRoosterâs got it handled.â
âAre you okay, Y/N?â You both hear Rooster say it but you donât dare turn your heads toward him. Hangmanâs eyes search yours again, wanting you to say something.
âI can take you to my apartment if youâd like,â Phoenix says to you.Â
You finally turn away from Hangmanâs intense gaze and push away lightly. âYeah, I think that would be best.â
âPenny said to leave your car here by the way,â Bob says, looking between you and Hangman.Â
âSounds good,â you respond, turning to walk away with Natasha, arms linked. Before you both completely walk out of Hard Deck, you turn around to see Jake already staring with longing eyes.Â
Something about it makes you shiver and pull Nat closer.
* Â * Â *
Jake watches as you turn back around and smile at something Phoenix said, wondering what it was that made you smile. He turns to Rooster, whoâs givinghim the most sly grin heâd ever seen.
âYou like, Y/N,â Rooster states.Â
âYouâre not wrong,â he admits. âShe seems so familiar. Have I met her before this?â
âYouâve probably seen her picture all over Top Gun,â Coyote tells him.Â
âWait where?â
âOh, you know, the main entrance,â Bob says. âLiterally in the classrooms⌠do you not pay attention to the walls?â
âSheâs been through a lot,â Fanboy mutters before taking a sip of his beer.Â
âWhat do you mean by that?â Hangman asks. When he sees the others give warning looks, he adds, âWhat happened?â
Rooster sighs before taking a swig of his beer. âYou remember that aviator that went missing a few years back?â
âThe one they found half dead?â Jake asks. âYeah?â
âThat was Bullseye,â Bob quietly tells him.Â
âShe wasââ Jake had to stop himself from speaking. Anger and sadness filled is chest at the thought of what may or may not have happened to you.Â
âYeah man,â Payback says, clapping Jakeâs shoulder. âThat anger you feel right now? That was us when we found out it was her.â
âSheâs never told us what happened, not even Nat.â Rooster tells them. âItâs like she just shut that out. What we do know is that she never stepped foot on a tarmac ever again.â
âShe couldnât bear to sit in the box again either,â Coyote adds. âShe had a full panic attack as soon as the glass went down. Rooster here had to carry her out.â
Rooster nods. âSo whatever youâre thinking of doing with her, donât.â
At that, Jake recoiled and frowned. âWhat makes you think I wanted toââ
âCâmon, Jake. I saw the way you look at her when she and Phoenix walked out,â Rooster drawls. âY/N is the closest thing I have to a sister, so just please. If you do try to get with her, donât. And if you manage to actually succeed, donât push her. Sheâs strong but she can only take so much.â
Jake only nods.Â
His mind is swirling with questions heâs too afraid to ask.
What happened to you that made you so terrified to be in the box? Why were you with that asshole if you had so much trauma? Was Nick just a coping mechanism of sorts?Â
When was he going to see you again? And why does the though of seeing you again make his heart warm?
Hangman didn't know the answers, but he damn sure wanted to find out.
Next part
#glen powell#jake hangman seresin#jake hangman fic#hangman x reader#hangman x latina reader#latina reader#glen powell x reader#fanfic
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widow's mark
cw smut (love bites & grinding) pair tasm!peter parker + gender neutral!reader sum the two of you explore the nature of spider bites. a/n not long, i've been busy, but idea given to me by my best friend.
your eyes shut with satisfaction as peter deepened his kiss and held your face, leaning into your touch and smiling against your lips. "you just got home, pete, c'mon.." he kissed you in between your sentences, cutting them brief with his greedy taste.
you sat against his headboard and as he closed in next to you, peter huffed and shoved whatever papers were on his desk. he helped you off the bed and set you on the desk, standing to feel his lips back on yours. "i've been thinking so much, baby," he began, holding your waist and kissing up your neck to your jaw.
peter placed one hand on your waist and the other on your thigh. "about?" you ask, looking down slightly at the bulge in his suit.
what he said next caught you off guard, but it intrigued you.
"like.. how hard?" you mumbled against his soft skin as he trailed his kisses down. he nuzzled against your collarbone and smiled stupidly, feeling your hand mess up his dark brown hair. peter grew into a lovey daze; his autumn eyes darkened and his hands snaked their way down to his bed sheets.
peter's lips parted, leaving open kisses on your neck and nipping slightly with his teeth. what would happen if i bit you? he had questioned before; you didn't think much about it. being bitten by a spider changed him, it wouldn't happen the other way around.. right?
as he bit you, the muscles under his teeth tensed and you held onto his back as his cock hardened under his suit. "oh, fuck-" you mumbled softly.
his leg lifted to slide under yours and help your straddle his lap. you tilted your head and allowed him to mark your neck, leaving small red bruises what would darken later that night.
peter hushed you as you whimpered in his ear, blowing over the harsh marks and kissing your cheeks when he was finished.
dt @bulllsseye @earth2lua @ohgodimgoungtodie @khoatic-with-no-energy
#peter parker#tasm peter parker#andrew garfield#spiderman#spider man#the amazing spider man#tasm#tasm!peter x reader#tasm!peter parker#peter parker x reader#peter parker smut#kinktober 2024#kinktober#marvel#marvel comics#mcu#marvel cinematic universe#marvel smut#marvel mcu#mcu fandom
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Mommy needs her rest
đ¤Pairing: Husband! KĂśnig x Wife! Reader
đ¤Pronouns: She/Her
đ¤Warnings: EXTERME fluffy, language, KĂśnig being a helpful husband, children, mention of some insecurities, L word, kissing
đ¤Summary: Y/n just gave birth to hers and KĂśnigâs baby boy and she needs the most rest she can get
ââââ
ââââ
Y/n waddled around the house still in pain after giving birth to hers and KĂśnig baby boy Leon.
Leon laid in his crib for his nap. He didnât sleep at all last night KĂśnig and Y/n both were constantly getting up every 10 minutes because he didnât want to sleep.
Their daughter Heidi would call Leon an annoying baby because of his crying and screaming.
Y/n leaned against the kitchen sink splashing water onto some dirty plates before loading them into the dishwasher. Sheâs done so much for the past 9 months but she still canât seem to relax, she feels like she needs to be up and moving around constantly.
Heidi came downstairs holding a coloring book and markers before sitting at the counter and dumping the markers all out on the counter top.
Y/n looks behind her shoulder to see Heidi coloring and humming a soft tune, well at least she seemed like she slept well.
Y/n faced the sink again and her eye lids became heavy. She forced them back open quickly and saw that some of the water from sink was on the floor.
âDammit,â Y/n mumbles as Heidi giggles to herself.
âMommy, you spilled water.â
âI know baby, I see that,â Y/n was trying to not sound annoyed or anything.
Y/n placed the dirty rag in the laundry room and came back to the kitchen leaning on the sink again, taking some deep breaths and holding her stomach.
Her stomach has gone down just a little big but she wants to completely gone.
âMama, why isnât Leon sleeping at nights?â
âIâm not sure, Heidi. He might not be use to the transition from hospital to home just yet.â Y/n says pouring herself a glass of water and chugging it.
Y/n has also been a bit stressed because of Heidi's school, since Y/n had Leon (which was a week ago), Heidi has been staying home a bit more often than usual. So, she has a meeting with her teacher and the schools principal at the end of the week.
KĂśnig says he'll do it but the school simply requested for Y/n. The school is a little terrified of KĂśnig.
Y/n placed her hands on her forehead as Heidi looked at her mom a bit worried now.
"Mama?"
"I'm home!" KĂśnig's voice boomed through the house. Heidi got off the bar stool and ran to KĂśnig pulling his hand into the kitchen, he thought it was cute how Heidi was pulling on him, but his smiling face dropped when seeing his wife on her knees crying.
"Liebe! What's wrong?" KĂśnig asked, getting on his knees next to her, holding her hand and helping her up off the kitchen tile.
"I...I feel weak," she says, it's hard for Y/n to say that because she was strong she carried a baby in her stomach for 9 months for Pete's sake.
"Liebe...maybe you should rest."
"But I want to help."
"I know you do, but you need your rest, you just had a child a week ago, you need to be in bed resting..." KĂśnig's hand went to the back of her head pulling her close and kissing her forehead as Y/n cries into her husband's chest.
"If I go to bed...do you have everything under control?" She looks up at him.
"Of course. I'm a parent as well, I got everything under control, go take a rest." He kisses her forehead again.
"Okay," she looks at Heidi and bends down kissing her forehead and heading upstairs.
"Daddy, is mama okay?" Heidi asked, looking up at her father who removed his black mask showing off his scarred face.
"Yeah, yeah, she just needs some rest," he says, bending down to her level. "Now, what are we going to play?"
---------
As Y/n made it upstairs, she gently pushes open Leon's nursery door seeing him peacefully sleeping. She smiles to herself before closing the door and heading down the hall to hers and KĂśnig's shared bedroom.
She pulls the covers back and rests her head on her pillow.
--------
KĂśnig smiles at his daughter as she was telling him stories between her Barbies.
"This is Stephanie and she is married to Henry, but Henry is cheating on her with Martha."
"The one married to the baker or the one married to the Stock Broker?" Konig asked his daughter.
"The Stock Broker."
"Ah! Okay, got it." KĂśnig was a little concerned on how Heidi knew about cheating or what a Stock Broker was.
"Daddy, is mama really okay?" Heidi asked him one more time as she drops her Barbies.
"Yes, baby, you know how we went to the hospital and she gave birth to Leon?" She nods in response. "Well, she became...not weak but tired all the time, she carried Leon around in her belly for 9 months, she was so strong during that time, but she just grew so tired," he tells her.
"But when she is asleep, she'll be okay?"
"Yes, baby. When she sleeps, she'll be strong again and will feel so much better," he smiles. "She just needs to heal, and she'll be just fine."
Soon loud cries filled the household, KĂśnig shot up like a meerkat coming out of his home. Heidi watched her father run up the stairs and saw Leon's nursery door opened.
"No, no, no," KĂśnig says as he opens it and he knew it. "Liebe-"
"I'm sorry...it was like an instinct to come and get him," she says, walking to him and giving Leon over to his father.
"Liebe, go rest, I got this okay?"
"Okay...he's hungry by the way."
"Okay," he chuckles at her. He puts his hand on the back of her head and pulled her closer to his and kissed her forehead.
KĂśnig goes back downstairs and opens the freezer and saw packs of frozen breast milk. He grabs the oldest one and putting it in the microwave for some quick seconds.
"Leon, is so annoying," Heidi says.
"Heidi," he gave her a warning tone.
The microwave beeps and he pulls the pack out pouring the milk into a bottle and placing the bottle into the little bottle warmer machine. He bounces up and down and gently patting Leon's back making his cries soften.
Soon the machine beeped and he takes the bottle upside down and lets the milk drip on his skin to see if it was too hot for his son, but it was just fine.
He takes Leon to the couch, he sits back and lays Leon on his back in his arms and brings the bottle to his lips. Leon soon attached himself to the nipple of the bottle and starts drinking it.
Heidi get off the floor and comes over to her father and baby brother. She leans over KĂśnig's arm to look at Leon suckling on the bottle. His tiny hands holding onto KĂśnig's big fingers.
"You want to hold him, baby?" He asks his daughter.
"Not really...what if he poops on me?"
"He has a diaper on," KĂśnig chuckles.
"What if he throws up?"
"We have a washer."
"No, I don't want to hold him," Heidi says shaking her head and backing up from her father.
----------
Y/n laid on her back looking up at the ceiling, she feels like 30 minutes have passed but truly it was an hour and she hasn't slept. She just wants to hold her baby boy, spend time with her daughter and love on her husband.
She moves the covers off her body and gathers her thoughts and bearings before walking to the master bedroom door. She opens the door and hears giggling from Heidi, KĂśnig's voice and hearing Leon soft giggles which makes her heart clench in her chest.
She comes around the corner and saw her husband holding her daughter by the ankles upside down hearing her joyous laughter and sees Leon on his back on his playmat Heidi above him.
"Rawww~" KĂśnig yells. His daughter laughing and his son giggling kicking his feet.
"I'm Spider-Man!" Heidi yells.
Y/n leans on the doorframe and smiles at her husband and children. She took the courage and went back upstairs, she tries to be quiet and heads to bed, she gets under the covers and closes her eyes.
-----------
8:00PM
Y/n yawns and sat up in the bed. She rubs her tired eyes and looked outside, it was night time. She smiles knowing she was finally able to get some sleep without getting interrupted.
She moves the covers off her body and walks downstairs, she sees KĂśnig asleep on the couch, Heidi on his left side, her head on his lap and Leon was being held in his right arm as the TV was on playing a cartoon called Bluey.
Y/n turns off the TV and Picks up Leon from KĂśnig's arms. She gently shakes KĂśnig, his eyes fluttered open.
"Liebe."
"Good morning, handsome," she says, kissing his lips. KĂśnig stretches up and picks up his sleeping daughter. "How long was I asleep?" She asked him.
KĂśnig looks at the clock. "I guess about 5 hours." He smiles.
"Wow." She says. "I need to sleep more often."
"Well, when's the last time we both got some good sleep?"
"When we didn't have kids," Y/n says.
"True," he says, leaning down and kissing her lips. "I love you."
"I love you too...thank you for being a good husband and father."
"Of course, liebe," he smiles down at her, kissing her again.
#cod modern warfare#cod mw2#cod mwii#cod x reader#fandom#fanfic#call of duty#mw2#cod#kĂśnig modern warfare#kĂśnig mw2#kĂśnig x reader#kĂśnig cod#kĂśnig call of duty#kĂśnig fanfiction#kĂśnig#konig x you
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đđđđ!đđđđđ đđđđđđ đđđ đđđđđ.
written for my old blog but never posted!
pairing(s): tasm!peter parker x reader
words: 926
warnings/tags: established relationship, r is implied to have a period â however, not ultimately gender specific.
it had been early evening, the sun setting across the horizon of new york, a faded orange hue emitting in the small apartment window of your kitchen as you stand by the stove. youâre scrolling through your phone, trying to relocate the recipe with your ingredients waiting by the countertop.
however, from the moment you pour water into the large pot atop the heating hob, you jump at the sound of a tapping window. turning your head, youâre met with the masked face of spider-man, a dorky wave sent your way.
leaving your things to the side, you wipe your hands across your apron before walking towards the tiny window to push open, allowing peter to stumble into the room. âhey, baby,â his adorable voice starting as he tugs the backpack from his shoulders to place on the wobbly kitchen table which tilts upon impact, âstill need to fix that,â peter notes to himself while pulling his mask off.
his spikey hair flops in front of his eyes as he discards the mask to the side, facing you with open arms who smiles at him warmly with the most beautiful eyes heâs ever seen. peter places a kiss on your head as you melt into his chest.
âthought iâd find you in here at this time.â
âyou know me too well,â you reply, mumbled against peterâs chest. he smirks, hands trailing up and down your arms softly while looking over your head to the array of ingredients, âwhatâs for dinner tonight?â.
pulling away from him, you walk towards the kitchen counter and back to the food ready to cook, allowing peter to follow you like a lost-puppy, arms swivelling so he can cuddle you from behind.
ânoodles with veg, going to make some curry sauce,â peter hums approvingly, against your head. âthat time of the month?â asks peter, knowing theyâre two of your comfort foods merged together.
âyeah.â
âwell, perfect timing, because in that caseâŚâ peter trails off, arms dropping from your side and allowing you to start cutting some spring onion, curiously listening for him to continue.
usually on days like this, he would stop by your apartment before going on patrol, leaving a bag of fresh clothes to change into when he would return to your side for night-time cuddles. however, tonight he has a thicker bag containing more things.
âwhatâs that, pete?â you ask curiously when the shuffling from behind stops, you turn your head to catch a glimpse of his face. he holds up three books under his chin with his eyes squished into an innocent, happy smile to show off.
âgot you these,â his voice a murmur as his gloved hands moves the books into a tower while returning to your side to show you. cheesy romantic stories, laced with fake dating tropes or colleagues to lovers because it became a tradition to both read the same clichĂŠ books and talk about the scenarios afterwards.
you knew while he got you these, it was partly because he loves those categories himself and knew it would be up for grabs once youâre done. plus, you had little space left around the house for your endless books, mainly bought with or by peter himself, feeding the addiction.
but ever since dating you, finding your love in books appeasing and was able to take the time he lost when becoming spider-man to start reading again. your favourite date with your spider-boy being reading days in the cafĂŠ or under a tree during a warm summerâs day.
âthank you but you know more than anyone that i donât need more books, pete,â you giggle and glance up at his proud and giddy expression as he dismisses your comment to show you the cover to the second book. âthis cover reminded me of you, i really liked the purple background and illustrated flowers, plus this is also fake dating!â
you watch the way peter gushes, unable to look at the covers as you mainly focus on his reaction to his gestures so sweet but he considers casual. âare they all fake dating?â you ask with a grin, peter checking the third book before meeting her eyes, flitting between each one with his dorky smile matching yours.
âyup,â a pop in the âpâ while he responds.
âdo you sometimes wish that you fake dated me first before we fell in love?â you ask in a teasing tone, watching as peter leans closer, nudging your nose as he shakes his head lovingly. âyou didnât give me time to, by the time you spilled the coffee on me i was already head over heels,â you scrunch your eyes at his response before he continued, âwhich is the clichĂŠ romantic meeting iâm more than happy to claim, weâre our own romance book, baby.â
with a kiss upon your lips, peter begrudgingly moves away with a displeasing groan while placing the books beside his bag, âgotta go on patrol, iâll be back later, âk?â. you nod with a smile, turning back to the counter but watching peter as he moves to the open window, mask in hand.
âiâll leave you some food in the fridge.â you comment as he slides the mask back over his face, leaning out the window but willing to respond normally, âthank you, baby. i better come back to you asleep with one of your new books.â
âyou bet. be safe, spidey.â you reply, watching as he gives you a thumbs up before shooting a web at the building across, shouting while he jumps, âlove you, baby!â
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Rocks Are Allowed to Crack, Stars Are Allowed to Dim
pairing: jake 'hangman' seresin x fem!pilot!reader
characters: jake seresin, y/n nivans, the daggers, pete mitchell, penny benjamin, diego and benny harding (oc father and son)
warnings: 18+ MDNI, angst, language, ptsd, description of accident, panic attack, injuries, descriptions of scars, flashbacks, fear of death, familial death (mentioned), crying, bottling up feelings, please please let me know if i missed any
word count: ~8.0k
a/n: this has been sitting in my docs and on my wheel for at least a year (please forgive the awkward moments). so i figured i'd take a sliver of the wheel and make him a little lighter! i've also been in a funk lately, so i thought getting something out there might help!
quick summary: everyone deserves someone to comfort them in their time of need, even the ones that always lend their shoulder
Ah, yes, dogfight football. Maverickâs way of creating a team. You play offense and defense at the same time. Tackling each other into the sand, sometimes into the water. It may be chaotic, but itâs fun and a great team building exercise.
Which is why you hated that you were running a little behind.
You sighed as you got out of your car and walked over to where Penny was sitting at the table.Â
You placed your aviators on your head, âIâm not late am I?â Penny chuckled and shook her head, âJust in time. Want a beer before you go?â You shook your head, âNah, Iâm okay right now. Care to watch my stuff?âÂ
The brunette gestured to the items in front of her, chuckling, âIâm watchinâ everyone else's. I donât see why not.â You chuckled and sat your wallet, phone, and keys down, as well as your sunglasses. You slipped off your shorts, folding them and laying them down.
âNivans!âÂ
You turned at the call of your last name, brows raised in curiosity.Â
 It was Maverick.Â
âHurry up and get down here!â
You turned to Penny, âThis is gonna be fun.â You both laughed before you jogged across the sand to meet everyone by the water.Â
âSorry Iâm late, Mav.âÂ
Maverick shook his head, âYouâre not late, Rockstar. Canât be late for fun.âÂ
âNot gonna take your t-shirt off?â Phoenix asked when you stood beside her. You shook your head, âNah, Iâm good.âÂ
Hangman sighed, âThatâs a shame.âÂ
You chuckled at him and bent down to throw a handful of sand at him.Â
âWatch it, Rockstar,â Hangman said, his voice light as he glared at you playfully.
âOr what, Hangman?â You challenged, eyes narrowed but a smile pulled at your lips.
Now, you and Hangman joked like this all the time. You considered each other best friends, which confused everyone else on base.Â
Jake Seresin was an asshole. He was cocky and arrogant. You, Y/N Nivans, were not an asshole. Quite the opposite, actually.Â
You were humble while still knowing your worth, but also showing anybody up if they proposed a challenge, and not being sour when you lost.Â
Jake went out looking for competition, you let it come to you.Â
You were also probably the sweetest thing to walk the planet. Most certainly the sweetest to walk the airstrip.Â
You were nice to everyone, always giving someone the benefit of the doubt until they truly proved they were an asshole.Â
You also took care of your team, they were your family. You always had the door open if someone needed to talk. Your arms were wide open when they showed up in the middle of the night because they had a nightmare and couldnât shake it. You were their rock.
So, when you walked into the Hard Deck that first day of the Uranium Mission and hugged Hangman, everyone was confused â except Coyote who knew you from a year prior. But they didnât verbally question you, choosing instead to ponder in private.
Hangman sighed, âCome on, Rocky. You're giving your enemy the advantage.â He tugged at your shirt and pulled you into his arms.Â
You laughed and pushed him away by his chest, âYouâre gonna have to catch me first.â Hangman cocked his head to the side, âOooh, thatâs how it is?â You nodded, a smirk playing on your lips, âThatâs how it is.âÂ
You panted as you used your shirt to wipe the sweat from your face.Â
When you let go of your shirt you raised your arms, calling for the ball. They threw it to you and you took off for your endzone.Â
You felt the sand shift and you knew Hangman was behind you. You had to get rid of the ball, so you called out to your teammate, âPhoenix!â She ran ahead of you and you threw her the ball.
As soon as the ball was out of your hand, Hangman tackled you to the ground.Â
You laughed as you laid on your stomach, arms out in front of you.Â
âWhat was that about âcatching youâ?â Jake grunted from above you.
You didnât have to look at him to know he was smirking. âHaha, very funny Hangman. Now get off, youâre heavy.âÂ
âFirst, ouch. Second, nah, youâre comfy.â You laughed and shook your head, attempting to push off the ground and basically buck him off.Â
But, Hangman wouldnât let you, laughing as he moved and made you fall back down.
In this new position, Hangman was putting pressure on a certain part of your back and panic shot through you.Â
âSeriously, dude, get up,â you tried to say with a laugh, not wanting to sound rude or like you were mad at him. He just smiled and rested his chin on his hands.Â
You closed your eyes and tried to control your breathing, but the waves hitting you pushed you over the edge.Â
âJake, get the fuck off me.â You didnât mean to sound harsh but you were panicking.
Jake was surprised by your tone, along with the use of his first name. He immediately got up and held out a hand for you to take but you just got up and ran to the table.Â
âRockstar, where you going?â Maverick asked. You called out while still running, âI need a break for a minute.âÂ
You got to the table, âIs it unlocked?â Penny nodded, âYeah, why?â âBathroom break.â Penny just nodded again and watched you take your sunglasses with you as you jogged inside.
Rooster ran over and hit Jakeâs arm, âWhat did you do, Hangman?â Jake shook his head, âIâm not sure.â He put his hands on his hips and watched you disappear into the bar.Â
He felt bad, he wanted to chase after you and apologize but he didnât know what he did.Â
âWell, you seemed to piss her off,â Phoenix said, shoving the ball into his chest.Â
Maverick looked at Penny but she just shrugged, meaning you didnât say much.
You ran into the bathroom, throwing yourself into a stall. Â
You leaned over the toilet and waited to throw up. Tears had started running down your face the minute you stepped in the bar. You coughed and sobbed lightly as you tried to control your breathing.Â
After a few minutes of that, the nausea subsided and you slowly stood to go to the sink.Â
You turned the cold water on and splashed your face.Â
âShitâŚâÂ
You closed your eyes as the tight feeling in your chest loosened. You let out a shaky breath and looked in the mirror, cringing at the puffiness around your eyes. You grabbed your sunglasses and slipped them on before leaving the bathroom.
When you stepped outside you saw Maverick and Penny talking, and when you sat down they stopped talking and looked at you concerned.Â
âYou alright? Gave Hangman quite the scare for a second,â Mav asked, squaring his shoulders to you. You nodded, resting your forearms on the table. âYeah, Iâm fine.â You rubbed your forehead, âHey Pen-âÂ
Before you could finish your sentence, a beer was sat in front of you, causing you to giggle, âRead my mind.â
As he continued to play, Jake still couldnât get over the fact that you called him âJakeâ during a day out.Â
It wasnât that you never did, but it was rare that you called anyone by their first name.Â
But it wasnât just that, it was the way you said that really made him worry. He had never heard your voice sound like that before.
He looked at you from his spot on the beach, noticing you didnât come back to join in the fun.Â
Hangman walked up to Phoenix, worried that he had really upset you and wanted help from the girl you were closest to. âYou donât really think I pissed her off, do you?âÂ
She sighed, âI donât know, Hangman. Even if you did, I doubt she could stay mad at you for long. She can't be mad at anyone for very long.â
Jake nodded and watched you stand up from your spot at the table.
You finished your beer and stood up, âIâm gonna head out.âÂ
Maverick frowned, âYou sure youâre okay, Y/N?âÂ
âYeah, Iâm okay. I just really need to shower. Iâve got sand in places sand shouldnât be,â you said with a light laugh.Â
âOkay, drive safe. Iâll see you in the morning.âÂ
âYes, sir.â You collected your stuff and headed to your car.
Jake noticed you leaving and tilted his head, âHeyâŚâ He patted Coyote on the shoulder. âIâll be right back.âÂ
He jogged up to the table to ask Maverick if he knew anything.
âIs she okay?â Hangman asked as soon as he came to a stop. Maverick shrugged, not looking up at the pilot, âShe seemed okay. Said she needed to shower.âÂ
Jake let out a breath, âSo she isnât mad at me?âÂ
âI didnât say that. But as far as I can tell, sheâs just tired.âÂ
Jake licked the sweat off his upper lip, putting his hands on his hips as he looked down.Â
âHangman, honey, just go talk to her. If sheâs upset with you, sheâll be honest about it,â Penny encouraged, giving Jake a small smile. He nodded and jogged to go find you before you left.Â
You were standing by your car, the door opened as you moved to get in when he approached.Â
âHey, Y/N,â Jake called as he walked over to you. You smiled, âHey, Hangman.âÂ
Jake swallowed, âLook, Iâm sorry about earlier. I was just messing around. I did-âÂ
You held your hand up, cutting him off, âJake, Iâm not mad at you. I know you were just playing. But your tackle jump started my bladder and I wasnât kidding when I said you were heavy.â You giggled a bit to show him you were teasing.
Hangman visibly relaxed at the sound, âOkay, good. I know I like to get under everyoneâs skin. Sometimes I donât know when to knock it off. IââÂ
You held up your hand, cutting him off. âJake, I can handle your teasing. Yeah, you can get a little mean. But I know itâs all a big show. Come here,â you opened your arms and made grabby hands at Jake.Â
He just shook his head and chuckled, pulling you in by your outstretched hands and letting them find their place around his built torso.Â
He rubbed his hand on your back, nearly missing the slight tensing right beneath your shoulder blades before they relaxed. His brow furrowed but he didnât mention it, thinking that maybe it was you tightening your arms around him.Â
He kissed the top of your head before you pulled away.Â
âGeez, Jake, youâre sweaty.âÂ
âYouâre not too dry yourself, Rockstar.â You laughed and playfully shoved him away. âIâll see you tomorrow, Y/N.â You smiled and slid into your car, âIâll kick your ass tomorrow Hangman.âÂ
He scoffed leaning on the roof of your car and the open door. âSince when did you get so cocky?âÂ
You smirked and placed your glasses on your head, forgetting that your eyes could still be red and puffy from earlier. âItâs not cocky if itâs the truth.âÂ
Jake shook his head and looked back to the shore. âUh-huh. Weâll see.â He leaned back and patted the top of your car. âDrive safe.â You nodded, and he closed your door.Â
He watched you start it up before driving away.
Jake shook his head and made his way back to the group.
Speaking of the group, they had all noticed the change in Jake when you showed up at the Hard Deck a few months ago.Â
While he was still his cocky self, having no shame in bragging and trash talking, he seemed to tone it down when you were around.
They also noticed how he always made sure to find you in the crowd, keeping an eye on you. Coyote joked that you had Hangman wrapped around your finger, that he would be at your side with a simple look.Â
Jake was painfully aware of the effect you had on him.Â
When he met you a year ago, he was starstruck by your dazzling smile.Â
So, naturally, in true Hangman fashion, he flirted with you.Â
With a toothpick between his perfect white teeth and his bright green eyes shining under the yellow lights of the bar, he walked up to you.Â
âI sure hope no one left you alone.âÂ
When you turned, eyeing him up and down to take in the uniform, beer bottle popping as it left your mouth, his breath was ripped from his lungs.Â
âWell, youâre here now. Iâm not alone.âÂ
Seeing your smile up close caused Hangman to blush, and leaving him thankful that his tan could somewhat hide it.Â
âWell, ainât I special.âÂ
You nodded, giggling while looking down at the bar, âThat you are. But, before this can go any further, Iâm gonna be honest, Iâm more dedicated to my work than anything else at the moment. And I have to be up by 5, so Iâd hate to lead you on.âÂ
Jake shook his head, but you continued, gesturing around the bar, âIâm sure there are plenty of girls here that would love to get attention from you and give you attention.âÂ
Jake smiled ânot smirked, smiledâ while leaning on the bar, âWell, the only one I want attention from is you. Plus, I canât stay out too late either. Gotta be at work early too, so I guess weâre both clocking in early.âÂ
None of the feelings that day had been one sided. You also had been starstruck by Hangman.Â
He was broad shoulder, tall, tan, and had a voice that could make a girl swoon in a second. But you knew he was a pilot, his uniform gave it away, and you knew how they acted. Except, you liked Jakeâs company and decided to talk all night with him.Â
Ironically, what you both did for work never came up.
So, imagine the look on Jakeâs face when he saw you the next day in your flight suit.Â
âYou didnât tell me you were a pilot.âÂ
You smirked, âYou didnât ask.âÂ
He shook his head, biting his lower lip to hide his smile but failed.Â
You nodded to him, âWhat do they call you?âÂ
âHangman. What about you?â You smiled, âRockstar.âÂ
You were able to peg why he earned his callsign very early on but he couldnât seem to figure yours out.Â
Until he had a close call and couldnât shake it.
The last day of training had just ended, tomorrow you might not come home, and to say you were nervous was a major understatement.Â
As you changed to get ready to go out with the squad, you couldnât stop shaking. You knew you needed a drink⌠okay a couple drinks.
While you changed, Hangman was walking around, looking for you.Â
When he walked past the locker room, he caught a glimpse of you reaching to pick something up.
He turned to walk in, but stopped when he saw that you only had your pants on. But, before he could stop himself, his eyes trailed up your back; starting from above your waistline on your pants and going up.Â
Then he stopped, his eyes widening when he saw the large scar that looked fairly new â maybe a year or so old. It spanned from the middle of your left shoulder blade to nearly below your ribcage and was positioned diagonally across your back.Â
Jake quickly looked away, realizing that you must have not wanted anyone to see it if you hadnât told him.Â
His brow furrowed as questions ran through his mind. Was that why you freaked out during dogfight football, the other day? Why you always tense up when you get an unexpected touch there?Â
Shit⌠He thought, feeling like a horrible friend for never noticing and never asking.Â
Jake took a deep breath and walked away, choosing to approach the locker room differently and pretend he never saw you.Â
He put on a smile and walked back towards the locker room, âHey, Rockstar! You almost ready?â He stopped just short of the door, leaning his back against the wall.Â
Your head jerked up as you pulled your t-shirt down. âUh, yeah, Hangman. Iâll be ready in a second.âÂ
You finished getting ready and walked out, jumping slightly when he pushed off the wall.Â
âGeez Hang, donât do that!â You punched his arm.Â
âGosh, I forgot how hard you punch.â He chuckled and rubbed the spot on his arm as you both walked to the parking lot.
You all sat in the Hard Deck, drinking and playing pool.
âDude, sheâs kicking your ass!â Payback laughed as he clapped Hangman on the shoulder.Â
You were, in fact, kicking Jakeâs ass in pool. You couldnât help the giggle that escaped as the blond narrowed his eyes at Payback.Â
âYeah, you feelinâ okay? Youâve been off your game tonight Bagman,â Rooster commented, smirking as he drank his alcohol.Â
Instead of clapping back at the jab, Jake just rolled his eyes and lined up his shot.Â
That made you frown, Hangman always had a comeback. Always had sarcastic quips to embarrass the other person. But he was silent.Â
You made eye contact when he stood, silently asking if he was okay. He just nodded and moved to sink another pool ball.Â
You didnât want to drop it, but you did for the sake of having fun before facing the chance of death tomorrow.
Sometime later, after a few rounds of pool and drinks, you all stood around and just talked.
âHey, did you guys hear about that one pilot that saved her WSOâs life when they got shot down?â Bob asked, looking around the group.Â
You clenched your jaw slightly, but not enough for anyone to notice.Â
âBob, that happens all the time. Itâs kinda what we do,â Phoenix said, squeezing his shoulder.Â
Rooster stood up and sat his beer down. âNo, not the way this pilot did. Bob, I know who youâre talking about. I read the mission file, the only thing that was classified was the pilot and WSOâs names.âÂ
You swirled the beer in your glass, not looking up from the amber liquid. âDid the pilot survive?âÂ
When you finished asking, you looked up, trying to ignore the watchful eyes of Hangman as you met Roosterâs eyes.Â
The latter nodded, âUh, yeah. Yeah, she did. But she had a pretty serious injury. Iâm not sure if she was ever clear to fly again.âÂ
You nodded and looked back down at your glass.Â
âAnd the WSO?â Jake asked, eyeing you as you downed the rest of your drink before looking at Rooster and Bob.Â
âHe survived. But I donât know if he still flies,â Bob answered.Â
âWell, thatâs good that they both survived,â you said, your smile returning to your face.Â
Rooster shook his head a bit, âYeah, but that pilot pulled a risky move. Saving some like thatâŚâÂ
Your smile dropped a bit, âPeople have their reasons.â You raised your glass, âIâm gonna go get another drink.â
Hangman watched you leave as the conversation changed into something more light hearted.Â
Jake took a step to go after you but Coyote caught his arm. âHey, come on. Play me in a round of pool. Letâs see if you still got your game.â Jake looked from his friend back to you and saw you laughing with Penny and Maverick at the bar. That allowed him to relax a little bit.Â
âOh, I still got my game. Letâs see if you found yours,â he smirked. âThere he is!â Coyote laughed and clapped Jake on the back.
As Jake played pool with Coyote, you talked with Penny and Maverick.Â
âAre you serious?âÂ
You nodded, laughing at Pennyâs reaction to you telling her how you and Jake met.Â
âPen, why are you surprised? Hangman flirts with every girl,â Maverick said, using his hand to point the direction of the mentioned pilot. You and Penny both nodded your agreement.Â
âSounds familiar,â Penny says, a playful grin on her face making Maverick roll his eyes.
You had become so invested in your conversation with Penny and Mav, that you missed Rooster coming up behind you.
He placed his hand on your back, right on your scar, making you tense and jump in surprise.
âSorry, didnât mean to scare yaâ Rocky,â he took his hand off and leaned on the bar.Â
âYou doinâ okay? You seemed a bitâŚâ He glanced back at the group, thinking of the right word. â...tense a minute ago.âÂ
You bit the inside of your lip, had you really been that obvious?Â
Still, you nodded and gave him your best smile.Â
But to him, he could see that it didnât reach your eyes. He may not have been your best friend, but he had seen plenty of your genuine smiles and this one did not make your eyes shine like the others.Â
Bradley decided not to press, âOkayâŚâ He turned to Penny, âPenny, could we get another round?â The bartender nodded, âOf course, but youâre reaching your cut off.âÂ
Penny had set a cut off for drinks for the pilots not wanting them to go into this mission hungover. You chuckled and glanced back at the group, all of them messing around and having fun. âYes maâam.âÂ
You turned to Rooster and then back down to your empty glass. Penny hadnât refilled it yet, having started a conversation with you as soon as you came over.Â
You glanced at your watch, seeing that you had been there for a couple hours.Â
Penny sat a tray down, placing the full glasses on top. âThere you are, Rooster. Whoâs tab?â
Rooster opened his mouth to tell her to put it on his, but you beat him to it, âPut it on mine Pen.âÂ
âYou got the last round, Rockstar,â Rooster argued. You shrugged, âI donât mind. Plus, Iâm closing my tab for tonight.âÂ
âWhat? Youâre heading out already?â You nodded, sliding Penny your card, âIâm hitting my limit, Roos.âÂ
Bradley searched your eyes for a moment, looking for any indication that something was wrong.
You were usually the one that made sure everyone was okay to go home and if they needed rides; so leaving early rung bells in Roosterâs head.Â
Penny gave you your card and receipt, âThank you.â âThanks Pen,â you gave her a smile before turning back to Rooster.Â
âTell âem Iâm heading out. I know if I do it I wonât be able to leave.â You gave him a one armed hug and turned to Maverick, âSee you in the morning, Captain.âÂ
âSee you in the morning, Rockstar.âÂ
Penny gently squeezed your hand, giving you a small smile as you slid off the bar stool and walked out.Â
Rooster, Maverick, and Penny watched you leave the building before turning to each other, concern written all over their faces.Â
âIs she okay? Sheâs been acting a little off ever since dogfight football the other day,â Penny asked the two pilots.Â
They both shrugged, Bradley looking up at her. âI was about to ask you the same thing.âÂ
âIâve noticed, but I thought it was just because Harvard and Yale had to eject the other day,â Mav admitted. âWe were all a little shaken up by thatâŚâÂ
It was silent for a minute.Â
âYou know⌠if one person knows anything, itâd probably be Seresin,â Penny said, pointing over to the pilot, who was very invested in the game he was winning, and basically suggesting that they talk to him.Â
Bradley sighed, knowing that Penny was right and if anyone knew you the best, it would be him. He grabbed the tray, thanking Penny and walking over to the group.
They all cheered when he sat the tray down, taking a glass for themselves.Â
Jake noticed that there was an extra and he frowned in confusion before he realized it was for you.Â
He looked up, eyes searching for you in the crowd, panicking a little when he couldnât see you, âWhereâs Rockstar?âÂ
Rooster sighed, âShe closed her tab and left. Said she reached her limit.âÂ
Fanboy frowned a little bit, âWhy didnât she just tell us herself?âÂ
Rooster shrugged, âSaid if she did it would take longer for her to leave.âÂ
âDoes she seem different to you guys?â Coyote asked, finally voicing his concern that had buit up over the last few days.Â
The group shared a look before making small noises of agreement.Â
âI mean, sheâs still the same Y/N. Still lighting up a room and being there for us like she always has been⌠I just⌠I donât know.âÂ
Rooster looked at Jake, âHangman, youâre like her best friend, do you know anything?âÂ
Jake shrugged and shook his head, âAll I know is sheâs nervous for tomorrow and the accident the other day shook her up a bit, but she hasnât said anything else.âÂ
He took a large gulp from his beer, hoping to swallow the confession of seeing your scar that he wanted to bring to light. You trusted Jake and he wasnât about to ruin that by telling the squad what he saw when he wasnât even supposed to know it was there.
Meanwhile, you walked the beach, taking in the fresh and salty air. You just needed the quiet time before you went home.
You sighed and pulled out your phone, seeing a text from Hangman and laughing slightly at the message.
Hangboy: Hey, I get that I kicked your ass those last few rounds of pool, but you could have told me you were leaving. I would have walked you out. Text me when you get home.Â
Also, there was an extra beer. I assume it was meant for you, but you left so I drank it. Donât worry though, I can handle it.
You shook your head and opened your phone, but not to text Jake.
You went to your contacts and pressed the caller ID, putting the phone to your ear as it rang.Â
âHey, Rockstar, what's up? Itâs been awhile.âÂ
You smiled, sighing, âSure has been, Tundra. How are you? Howâs the little one?â âIâm good. Ben is great, he wants to know when youâll be by again to visit.âÂ
You giggled at the fact the 6 year old wanted to see you. âSoon⌠hopefully.â âY/N, I know that voice. Is it happening again?â You shook your head, despite the fact that Tundra couldnât see you.Â
âNo, no. Well, sorta, but this is different Diego.â You heard him shift, presumably crossing his arms. âWhat do you mean?âÂ
You sighed, remembering that you couldnât share all that much about the mission, even if he was former Navy.Â
âI donât know how much I can tell you. But I got called back to TopGun, and I could be flying out on a mission tomorrow. A dangerous one.âÂ
âY/N, do they know?âÂ
You shook your head again, this time to fight tears. âNo, but Iâm scared that mid air, Iâm gonna freeze. I donât wanna freeze, Diego. I havenât frozen since our incident. But I donât know whatâs been wrong these past couple of weeks. I canât seem to shake off this dread⌠this-this fear. I do-donât-âÂ
He cut you off, âHave you talked to anyone recently?âÂ
You were silent and he took that as a no. âY/N, you have to talk about it if you ever want to move past it.â âI did though. I had mandated therapy for my entire time in recovery.â âAnd have you been since you recovered?â
You threw a hand up, frustrated, âI thought I was past it! I hadnât had an attack in a year, not until we were playing football. I-I thought it was just a one time thing, and then something happened during training and I just-âÂ
You were cut off by a small, tired voice.Â
âIs that Aunt Y/N?âÂ
âIt is. Do you want to talk to her? I think she needs to talk to you.â âYes, please!â You smiled as you heard the phone go to speaker and then be passed to the little boy.Â
âHey, Aunt Y/N!âÂ
You smiled, tears finally falling, âBenarino, hey buddy.â âI miss you. When are you coming to visit?â You wiped at your eyes with a shaking hand. âSoon, buddy. Really soon,â you sniffled.Â
âAunt Y/N, why are you crying?âÂ
You laughed, coughing a little at the end, âI just really miss you Benny. I canât wait to see you.âÂ
You looked back at the Hard Deck, seeing your fellow pilots laugh and sing.Â
âIâm gonna bring a friend too. If thatâs okay with your mom and dad?â âThatâs alright with me, Rockstar. Iâm sure Lila wonât mind.âÂ
âWho is it?âÂ
You brought playfulness into your voice, âYou remember the pilot I told you about? The one that thought he could fly better than your Aunt Rocky?âÂ
The little boy giggled, âYeah!â âWell, I think itâs about time you brought home the boy that stole your heart.âÂ
âDiego,â you hissed. âWe are just friends.â âMhmm, sure.â You scoffed, rolling your eyes, âYou should probably get Ben to bed before Lila wakes up.âÂ
You heard Diego grunt as he picked up his son, âGoodnight Benny Boy.â âGânight Aunt Y/N.âÂ
âCall me when you make it back.â You nodded, hand sliding into your back pocket, âYeah, of course. Night Tundra.â âNight Rockstar.âÂ
The call ended and you slid your phone into your unoccupied back pocket.
You took in a deep breath, trying to relax again. In through the nose, out through the mouth. In, out.Â
On an inhale, the scent of smoke filled your nostrils and it made you hold your breath.
Quickly looking around, you spotted a bonfire a couple yards away. Realizing it was harmless, you let out the breath and tried to relax your shoulders.
But, despite knowing it was completely harmless, your body went into a state of panic. Your chest tightened, limbs went numb, pain spread through your back, and tears filled your eyes.Â
You held a hand to your chest, the air stopping just before it made it to your lungs, and stumbled to your car as fast as you could, hoping you werenât seen by your friends inside the bar.
Jake looked at his phone as he left the bar. You hadnât texted him, and by now you definitely should have been back to your on base bungalow.Â
Hangman wasnât going to panic, he knew you well enough that you would have texted or called him if something bad happened. Of course he felt anxious, who wouldnât, but he was going to remain calm.Â
The reason you hadnât texted him when you got home was because the moment you fumbled yourself into your place, you booked it for the bathroom.Â
Your knees smacked into the tile and you threw up whatever alcohol you had consumed before the strangled sob ripped itself from your throat. You crumbled to the tile as your chest refused to let air in.Â
Your skin felt hot and sticky, sweat coating it as you laid on your bathroom floor. It wasnât helping you, your damp, hot skin sending you back to one of the worst days of your life.
So, in a frenzy, you ripped off your shirt and kicked off your shoes and socks before yanking your pants off, not even loosening your belt.Â
You crawled over the tub wall, too dizzy to properly stand, before fumbling with the knob to turn the water on.Â
Once you got it turned on, you jostled the faucet switch, a desperate sob escaping as it kept falling down before it finally stuck, turning the shower on and drenching you in water.
And that was how Jake found you.
Jake decided to stop by your place and check on you, that being his only option to get his anxiety to go away.Â
When he pulled up to your place and saw your car there, he let out a breath of relief.Â
He parked his truck behind your car and ran to your door, his chest lighter than before.
But his chest became heavy again when he made it to your door only to find it unlocked. You rarely left your door unlocked, if ever.
He cautiously pushed it open, looking around to see if anything was out of place.Â
Your keys were on the floor, your phone and wallet not too far from them.Â
Jake walked further in, making sure to close and lock the door behind him.Â
He held his breath as he looked for you. But his search was cut short when he heard the shower running.Â
He exhaled and had to take a minute to calm the drumming in his chest.Â
He cautiously walked to the bathroom, making sure to knock before walking in. He kept his head down so he didnât see anything he wasnât supposed to⌠again.Â
âHey I was-âÂ
The door stopped, hitting something on the floor.Â
Hangman squinted his eyes in confusion. It was your shoe. He kicked it out of the way and pushed the door open enough for him to just step in and close it.Â
He stopped with his hand on the door, realizing that the room didnât feel like a sauna. There was no fog covering the mirrors and steam wasnât filling the small space. You always showered hot, and right now the bathroom was freezing.Â
Jake finally looked up and saw you curled in the shower, the water cascading from the faucet and hitting your back. It was obvious you had been there for a while because you were shivering.Â
Jake sat on the edge of the tub cautiously, not wanting to startle you.
His heart broke at the sound of your quiet crying and the puffy redness of your eyes was a sight Jake never wanted to see again.
The eyes that usually held the brightness of the stars and a kindness that was unmatched, were now red, distant, and constantly filled with tears that fell over and mixed with the water drenching you.Â
He hated it.
Jake held his hand under the water and recoiled at how cold it was.Â
âShit,â he cursed as he quickly turned it off.Â
When you didnât react, he knew you truly werenât in this reality.Â
âY/N,â he spoke gently and touched your arm. He sharply inhaled when he discovered how cold you were. âY/N, darlinâ, we need to dry you off and get you in some warm clothes. Youâll get sick.âÂ
Jake wasnât sure if you heard him because you just stared ahead, biting on your nail. He sighed and pulled your hand away from your mouth.Â
He moved to pull his hand back but you grabbed it, your freezing cold hand latching onto his warm one. âPlease donât⌠Jake, please donât leave.âÂ
Your voice was quiet and broken, raw with fear. And he was sure that sent a shiver up his back.
Jake quickly shifted to kneel beside the tub, his thumb rubbing back and forth on your hand. âIâd never leave you hanginâ.âÂ
He looked you over, âCan I pick you up?â You nodded, letting his hand slip from your grip and feel it wrap under your legs.
He awkwardly shifted to lean over and pick you up, grunting a little as stood up. He was too pressed about his clothes getting wet, heâs sure heâs got pants somewhere around here.
Jake managed to open the bathroom door and walked to your bedroom.Â
He sat you on the bed and quickly grabbed the towel on the back of your desk chair.Â
Wrapping it around you, Jake kissed the top of your head. âYouâre okay. Youâre safe,â he spoke gently against your hair.
He pulled back and watched you bite your lip to keep your tears hidden.
You avoided his eyes, looking at your shaking hands.Â
âIâm gonna get you some clothes, okay?â You slowly nodded, lip trembling before you bit down on it again.
Your eyes didnât follow him as he walked around your room, but your ears were very aware of Jakeâs noises; everything from his footsteps to his mumbling.Â
In under five minutes, neatly folded clothes were placed beside you and Jake kneeled in front of you, his large hands resting on your biceps gently.Â
âDo you want me to stay while you change?âÂ
It took you a second to register what he had asked, but he was patient and rubbed reassuring circles on your arms with his thumbs.Â
You inhaled, the familiar scent of his cologne calming you down a bit.Â
You were tempted to say yes, you didnât want to be alone but you also didnât want Jake to see you any more vulnerable than he already has.Â
You shook your head, unconsciously pulling the towel tighter around you.Â
Jake noticed it and nodded, âOkay, Iâll go tidy up your bathroom and throw some blankets in the dryer to fluff them up and get âem warm.â He gave you a small smile and stood, leaving the room and the door open just a crack.
You managed to peel off the wet bra and underwear, drying off before changing.Â
That simple task was exhausting. It felt like your bones had turned to rocks and your muscles no longer existed. But eventually, you did it.
You haphazardly dried your hair, basically just dry enough to where it wasnât dripping, and walked into the small living room.Â
You sat on the couch, deciding to occupy your hands with your oversized shirt while you waited for Jake.Â
Minutes later he was on the couch beside you, wrapping you in the fresh-out-of-the-dryer blanket.Â
âThank youâŚâ Your voice had a rawness to it that made Jake shiver, something was really wrong and he didnât know how to help.
He nodded and rubbed your upper back, âOf course.â
He sat there for a moment, just listening to your sniffles and weeping exhales, before finally turning to face you.Â
âWhatâs going on? âCause this-â He gestured to you and your current state. â-is way more than just nerves for tomorrow.âÂ
âIâll be-âÂ
âIf you say âfineâ, I swear,â he sighed to control his volume. âY/N, you are not fine.âÂ
âJakeâŚâ
The blond pilot took a deep breath, looking at the sliver of couch cushion between you. âI saw itâŚâÂ
If you werenât going to be honest, then he needed to be. Maybe what he saw is connected to what was shaking you to your core all of a sudden.
He finally looked up at you and watched your breathing halt as fear filled your eyes.Â
Jake continued, making sure to keep his tone even, âI didnât mean to. I was just looking for you in the locker room today and I-â He stopped talking when you choked out a small cry.Â
He immediately pulled you into his lap, one hand going to the back of your head and the other arm wrapped around your lower back. âI got you⌠I got you.â
Jake closed his eyes and rocked you a little as his mind went back to the day these roles were reversed.
Jake had sat in the locker room, flight suit half off and tied around his waist. His knee bouncing as his eyes went in and out of focus.Â
âHangman!â You called as you ran down the hall. But he couldnât hear you with the blood still rushing in his ears.Â
âHangman! Hang- There you are!â You jogged to him and saw that his emerald eyes were blank, not the playful or confident eyes you normally saw. âHey, Hang- Jake whatâs wrong?â You knelt in front of him, putting a hand on his bouncing knee to stop it.
Jake looked at you, the concern swimming in your eyes breaking whatever resolve he had left.Â
The tears he tried so hard to hold in finally spilled down his cheeks.Â
You instantly cupped his face in your hands, wiping them away, âWhatâs got you so shaken up? Iâve never seen you like this.âÂ
He shook his head, pushing your hands away as he sat up and leaned against the locker. âYouâre not supposed to.âÂ
You sighed and leaned back on your heels, âWhat happened up there?âÂ
Jake wiped the still flowing tears, shaking his head, âI donât know. I guess- Fuck I donât know, Rockstar.âÂ
You stood, âTalk to me, Jake. Please, Iâm your friend and I want to help.âÂ
Your tone was desperate and worried. This was a new version of Jake that you would have never seen if you hadnât followed him off the tarmac.
Hangman finally got the guts to grab your hand and squeeze it. He took a deep breath as he tried to collect himself.Â
âI almost lost you up there. Youâre one of my closest friends, weâve only known each other for a few months and I feel like weâve known each other forever. I never let myself be that close to anyone, but you made it so easy.âÂ
His voice was raw and shaky. He was scared, but you couldnât blame him. What just happened to you both was really intense and it was scary. But you were both okay.
You squeezed his hand back, giving him a soft but encouraging smile.Â
âCan we just- Shit this is gonna sound so weirdâŚâÂ
You knew where he was going, so you straddled his legs and wrapped him in a hug. âI got you Jake, I got you.â
That was when Jake realized the backstory to your call sign. You were everyoneâs rock. You kept everyone sane, even at the expense of yourself.
Which is why you were currently shaking and sobbing in his arms. You never sought out comfort for your problems, a bad habit you picked up in high school. You always put everyone first, and you had it in your head that you couldnât be vulnerable.Â
You pulled away from him, not meeting his eyes, âIâm sorryâŚâÂ
âWhy the fuck are you apologizing?âÂ
âBecause I-âÂ
âBecause youâre being vulnerable in front of someone?â You nodded, unconsciously playing with your fingers. âLook at me, please.â You did, biting your lip to hold your tears in.Â
âYou are allowed to be vulnerable. You are allowed to cry. You are allowed to be scared. You shouldnât have to hide your feelings from your friends. Iâm sorry if we ever made you feel like you couldnât talk to us.âÂ
You nodded, staying silent, focusing on how Jake had moved his hand from the back of your head to your cheek to rub his thumb back and forth on your cheekbone.Â
Your silence broke his heart a little bit, making him think you didnât trust him. But he knew he had to be patient with you.Â
He goes to move his hand away but you hold it there. âI thought I was over itâŚâÂ
âOver what, Sweetheart?âÂ
âThe accidentâŚâÂ
Jake pushed some hair behind your ear, âWhat accident?âÂ
You took a deep breath, closing your eyes as a few tears rolled down your cheeks. He wiped them away as he spoke softly, âTake your timeâŚâ You nodded, swallowing as you tried to catch your bearings.Â
âA year before I was stationed with you, I was flying a mission. It was dangerous, but still fairly routine. On my way out, I got hit. It completely destroyed my weapons system. Before I could get back up, I was hit again. This time it took out my engine.â You took another deep breath, looking up at the ceiling.Â
âWe were dropping altitude fast and my WSO and I had to eject. We landed on a beach, we unbuckled so fast,â you chuckled, remembering the relief you and Diego felt before the shit hit the fan.
Jake smiled a little bit at the sound, but dropped it when you started talking again.
âHowever the jet had also crashed onto the beach too. The fuel had leaked and caused an explosion. I covered my WSO, and a piece of scrap metal lodged itself into my back.âÂ
Jakeâs eyes widened, more dots connecting in his mind, âYouâre the pilot the squad was talking about at the barâŚâÂ
You nodded, wiping your eyes, âJake, Iâm sorry I didnât tell you sooner. Itâs just⌠when I was in recovery, if I wanted to fly again, I had to go through therapy. And I havenât had an attack in a yearâŚâ You got choked up again, hot tears rolling down your face, âHang, Iâm so sorry.âÂ
He shook his head, using both of his hands to wipe your face, âHey, donât be sorry. Do I wish you would have told me sooner? Hell yeah, but I understand why you didnât.â You just nodded and relaxed into his hands.
âWhat happens when you have an attack?âÂ
You took a sharp inhale through your nose before sighing it out, âIt depends. I sometimes get flashbacks of the beach, everytime I close my eyes I just see fire and itâs fucking terrifying. Other times, when it gets really bad, I can feel pain in my back, but thatâs rare.âÂ
You bit your lip a little as you looked away, and Jake knew, âThat happened tonight didnât it?â You nodded, coughing a little bit, âYeah, uh, yeah it did.âÂ
âWas it because we talked about-âÂ
âNo," you said quickly. "W-well, I mean kinda⌠yeah. But there was a bonfire happening on the beach, and just the two things⌠my brain went into panic mode. Before you ask, I donât really know what triggers it. But during dogfight football-âÂ
Jakeâs eyes widened and he dropped his hands, âFuck, Y/N, Iâm so sorry. I had no idea.âÂ
âExactly, Jake, you had no idea. Itâs not your fault. It was just the pressure on my scar made me panic, and I was back on that damned beach. But Iâm not mad or upset with you because you had no idea. So donât beat yourself up, please.âÂ
Jake nodded, bringing you into a hug again, being mindful of the scar. âJake, you can touch it. I know Iâm safe.â He said nothing and brought a hand to run over the covered scar before tightening his hug.Â
âCan you tell me about him? Your WSO?âÂ
You nodded, âDiego Harding, call sign Tundra. He has a wife and a son.â
âThatâs why you-âÂ
âYeah, thatâs why I covered him. He had a family to go back to.âÂ
âWhat about you?âÂ
You sighed again, using Jakeâs shoulders to sit up, âMost of my family served. My dad was killed in action when I was young. My mom died when I was a teenager, leaving Piers to raise me for a little bit. Then Piers goes and sacrifices himself⌠so I didnât have anyone to come home too.âÂ
You shrugged and got off his lap, but snuggled into his side.
He rubbed lazy circles on your bicep. âWell now you do.â You looked up at him confused, âWhat?âÂ
âYouâve got me to come home to, and Iâve got you.â He placed a chaste kiss on your forehead. âDonât get sappy on me, Seresin.â He just chuckled.
It was silent for a moment.Â
âPromise me that youâll do your best to fly back to me,â he asked in a hushed whisper as if he were telling you a secret.
âOnly if you do,â you whispered back.
He held out his pinky, âI promise.â You nodded, interlocking your pinky with his, âI promise too.âÂ
âCanât break that now, you know,â he chuckled, squeezing your pinky a little. You giggled a little before yawning, âI know, cowboy.â
my little cassettes <33: @els-marvelvsp @kmc1989 @criminallyhamilfan13 @lynnevanss @lovinglyeternal @desert-fern @startrekfangirl2233 @bradleybeachbabe @sebsxphia @mamachasesmayhem @hangmansgbaby @teacupsandtopgun @luckyladycreator2 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @horseshoegirl @dakotakazansky @djs8891 @nobody7102 @bobby-r2d2-floyd @mongoosesthings
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#rocks are allowed to crack stars are allowed to dim#jake hangman seresin#jake seresin#top gun maverick#jake seresin x reader#jake seresin x pilot!reader#jake hangman seresin angst#jake seresin angst#hangman angst#hurt/comfort#sarahsmi13s
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It Was You
pete âmaverickâ mitchell x reader
summary: when maverick knocks on your door, your true feelings emerge.
warnings: friends with benefits, student/instructor dynamic, age gap (not mentioned), language, drunkenness, make-out session
wc: 823
a/n: based on this request! not necessarily exactly like the song but thereâs angst. hope you enjoy!
It had been almost two months since you broke things off with Maverick.
Not that the two of you were really dating, it was more of a friends with benefits type relationship, but after a month you realized how bad of an idea it was to fuck your instructor.
You were doing well, but whenever you passed Maverick in the halls on base, he would give you puppy eyes, like he was trying to apologize for something.
One Friday night, youâre at home watching a movie with your new fling. Heâs nothing to write home about, but you needed someone to get your mind off of Maverick.
Suddenly, thereâs a knock on your door.
âIâll get it,â you say, standing up from the couch and heading to the front door.
When you open the door, your smile fades.
âWhat are you doing here?â
âI miss you,â Maverick mumbles. You can smell whiskey faintly on his breath.
âMaverick,â you sigh. âYouâre drunk. Please go home.â
âNot drunk,â he continued to mumble.
âMav, this is embarrassing, please go.â
Ryan walks up behind you. âEverything okay?â
âYeah, he was just leaving, right, Pete?â
The use of his name over his call sign stings not just Maverick, but also you.
Maverick nods, and stumbles off your porch.
âWait,â you call out. Maverick stops, back still to you.
You turn to Ryan. âI need to get him home before he does anything heâs gonna regret in the morning. Iâll be back soon, okay?â
âHow do I know youâre not gonna do anything?â Ryan asks.
âTrust me, nothingâs going to happen.â
Ryan stares at you for a moment.
âIâll be right back,â you mutter, stepping across the threshold.
Maverick is still waiting at the bottom of your steps.
âWhy did you come here?â you hiss.
âI miss you,â he repeats, looking at the ground.
You grab his arm and start to lead him to his house.
âMav, I told you.â
âYou donât look happy with him,â Maverick frowns.
âThis is not your place to tell me who I can and canât date,â you quip.
âGimme another chance,â he pleads.
âWe canât, Pete. Youâre my instructor. There are rules.â
âFuck the rules.â
âNot these rules. You can do whatever the fuck you want up in the air but we have to follow these rules, Mav.â
You guide him up the steps to his house.
âWe were good together,â he mumbles.
âDonât do this, Pete,â you say, feeling your throat close up and tears forming in your eyes.
Maverick looks up at you with sadness in his eyes.
âI wonât, Iâm sorry for knocking on your door,â he says, suddenly stone cold sober.
âI need to go before I do something stupid,â you say, turning away. âGoodnight, Mav.â
âGoodnight, y/n,â Maverick whispers.
You go back to your place, where Ryan is still waiting.
Later that night, as you lay in bed with Ryan, you canât stop thinking about how youâd rather be next to Maverick.
You spend the weekend with Ryan, but your mind is filled with Maverick. As Ryan walks you to your door Sunday night, you find some courage.
âRyan, I donât think this is working for me,â you say.
âWhat?â he asks you.
âI wanted to make this work, but I just donât have the same feelings that you do for me.â
âItâs Maverick, isnât it?â
âRyan, IâŚâ
âNo, I get it. Goodnight.â
Ryan turns on his heel and walks away. You watch him walk out of sight and you walk to Maverickâs house.
You knock on his door, and he answers almost immediately.
âY/n,â he says softly.
âYou were right, Mav,â you say, on the verge of tears.
âWhat?â
âI miss you. I couldnât stop thinking about you after Friday night.â
Maverick doesnât say anything.
âIf you changed your mind and donât feel the same anymore, I get it and Iâll leave if you tell me,â you say, rambling.
Maverick leans in and kisses you, hard. Your arms wrap around his neck instinctively, and you push him back inside his house, kicking the door shut behind you.
He pushes you up against the door with a thud. Maverickâs tongue eagerly swipes against your lips, wanting in.
Of course, without any hesitation, you part your lips for him, his tongue moving in and swiping against yours.
A moan slips out of your mouth and into his, and he sighs happily.
âYouâre the best thing thatâs happened to me,â Maverick tells you.
âYouâre the worst thing thatâs happened to me,â you tease.
He smiles. âI know you donât mean that.â
You giggle and kiss him again, happy to be back in his arms.
âIâm sorry I walked away, I was scared,â you say softly.
âDonât be, y/n,â Maverick reassures you, pulling you in for a hug. He kisses the top of your head.
âMav,â you sigh, squeezing him tighter, never wanting to let go ever again.
#tom cruise x reader#tom cruise imagine#maverick x reader#top gun x reader#pete mitchell x reader#pete maverick mitchell imagine#pete maverick mitchell x reader#pete mitchell imagine#requests
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Would you be open to headcanons whit agere logan cg wade? Mabye padded logan
BABY LOGAN đŁď¸đŁď¸đŁď¸đŁď¸ You can fit sooo much baby in that little guy :(
Regressor!Logan & Cg!Wade Headcanons
đžâď¸Logan doesnât like to admit heâs a little so Wade just kind of had to figure it out.
đžâď¸He figured it out when he found Logan in the kitchen in the dead of night shoving bedsheets into the washing machine
đžâď¸The poor little guy was frozen in place when he saw Wade there watching him
Could probably write a one shot abt thisâŚwould you guysâŚwant that.
đžâď¸Anyway đ
đžâď¸Wade is overjoyed to take care of little Wolvie!!
đžâď¸He just loves fussing over him and running his fingers through his little kitty cat hair
đžâď¸Course Logan loves hates it
đžâď¸Along with not being a fan of admitting he regresses Logan is also not big on admitting he needs padding or needs it changed
đžâď¸Which leads to accidents, lashing out, tears and then apology cuddles
đžâď¸He prefers medical and non patterned padding but on occasion he doesnât mind the odd animal or circus themed dip
đžâď¸Prefers to put them on himself because he likes to feel independent still, even while small
đžâď¸If heâs particularly small or sleepy he will let Wade change him though.
đžâď¸If theyâre out at the store while Logan is small Wade will constantly offer to buy him stuffies and things
đžâď¸Heâll groan and say no but eventually give in.
đžâď¸Heâs got loads of stuffed animals shoved in his closet because Wade just keeps getting them for him
đžâď¸He has one particular one that he sleeps with 24/7 though
đžâď¸He has a birthday bear from the Care Bears
đžâď¸He hides it under his pillows so no one else sees him
đžâď¸Wade has a big collection of toys himself cause heâs just a big kid, heâll happily lend any Logan wants to play with
đžâď¸I feel like Logan prefers things like Legoâs and just general wooden building blocks that he can build big towers and knock them down
đžâď¸Play-Doh too, I think it took him awhile to get round to the idea of it but he ends up loving it
đžâď¸Logan really likes Sylvanian Families (Calico Critters)
đžâď¸He really likes the Walnut Squirrel Family cause of their bushy tail and the Latte Cat Family cause itâs kittiessss
đžâď¸Heâs got a bunch of the play sets too, the bakery, the houses, the cars, the doctors
đžâď¸He loves em
đžâď¸Wade loves playing toys with him too
đžâď¸Logan spends a lot of his regressed time in his pyjamas or just a shirt and his diaper
đžâď¸Heâs not a big fan of tv while small, he prefers books but he loves Garfield and Pete the Cat
Thatâs all I can think of for now :3
#age regression#sfw agere#agere#deadpool and wolverine#Deadpool and wolverine agere#agere blog#agere community#age regressor#!!! <3#headcanons#fandom agere#regressor wolverine#little wolvie#xmen agere#regressor logan howlett#logan howlett agere#poolverine#Deadpool 3#hugh jackman#ryan reynolds#agere dips#padded regressor#xmen age regression
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