#peter sutherland fanfiction

[bellarkeselection]

1 - His New Assignment

Part 2

America’s Little Eagle

Tag list - send an ask to be added @fanfictionaddiction99

Peter Sutherland was sitting in silence on an airplane set by the President of the United States returning back from his last Night Agent mission.  “Agent Sutherland, we are now entering American airspace.” The pilot informed him shortly before the plane touched down on the runway and came to a stop. 

He slowly made his way down the plane steps coming into contact with a few secret security from the president that made him slightly nervous.  “Is everything okay here?” 

“We need you to follow us, sir.” One of the officers said before leading him into one of the tunnels that entered the White House.  There was silence until they reached a set of doors and he got led inside to see President Michelle Travers standing on the other side of the long wooden table.  

“Please come in, Peter.” She greeted him with her hands clasped together in front of her.  “Have a seat.  There is something I wish to discuss with you.” 

“It’s an honor to meet with you again, Madam President.” He told her sitting down across from her at the table. 

The President smiled at the man across from her.  She knew that he would carry out whatever mission he was assigned to the best of his ability.  “I know you took the job of being a Night Agent but I’d like to offer you something much bigger than that now that it has been some time since you helped Rose Larkin.” 

“What kind of offer did you have in mind, Madam President?” 

The female President slides a black file of the night agent where he reads over the title of the classified document.  “I want you to be the solo agent to protect my daughter Y/n Travers.  I want you to be her special secret service detail.  If you’ll accept the position.” 

“Doesn’t she already have her own security detail that protects her.  Why are you asking specifically for me?” 

President Travers turned her attention towards a door in the corner of the room.  “She used to until she personally requested the best agent I knew.  It was the day that you held me at gunpoint before the helicopter exploded.” Peter stared at the woman in front of him, hearing the door in the corner open and he saw a younger blonde woman come out into view.  

He would remember that day very vividly forever. 

Y/n’s pov 

Running behind my mother we were led towards the chopper with agents on either side of us until someone shoot one of them and my mom was pulled off to the side and a gun was pushed to the side of her head.  Blinking my eyes I gasped getting dragged behind one of the large crates seeing a guy with brown hair and bright blue eyes. “Listen to me! There's a bomb on Marine One! It's rigged to blow on lift off!” 

“Drop it.” One of the agents ordered. 

The guy shouted back at the agent, “Not until you kill the engine!”

“It's okay. What do you want, Peter?” My mother asked him where I attempted to peak over the crate my agents had me hidden behind. 

He told her. “ I don't wanna hurt you, ma'am.”

“Drop the fucking gun.” The black agent pointing his gun shouted. 

Peter backed further away, holding onto my mother.  “Not until you kill the fucking engines!”

“Kill the engines.” She gasped. 

“Listen to me. I'll drop the gun after you clear the helo, okay? There's a bomb on board. That agent was involved, Briggs was involved, the vice president's involved. He's trying to kill you. They're trying to kill the president!” Peter frantically explained to the agents and I felt that he was telling the truth. 

“You're holding a gun. We need you to drop your weapon.” 

Peter admitted to the agent focused on him. “I drop this, they shoot me. Please. I promise, ma'am,  I don't wanna hurt anybody.” 

“Just check the cabin.” My mother ordered them before I jumped upright and ran out into the area causing many agents to start shouting out my code name. 

“Little Eagle in enemy fire!” 

“Peter, right? Don’t worry, we'll do what you say.” Slowly stepping in between the agent and Peter, raising my hands up in surrender.  I knew if I stepped down this could turn into a gun fight. “Check the chopper for IEDs. You don't have to hurt my mother.” 

“I don't wanna hurt you, ma'am, okay? I don't wanna hurt anybody. I love my country.” Peter told my mother shifting his gaze over to me before the helicopter suddenly exploded but thankfully we all survived. 

Standing in the doorway I lightly crossed my arms over my chest scanning over the man I now knew as Peter Sutherland jr, the man who saved my mothers life two years ago.  I walked across the room pushing my hands down onto the table with my hair in its messy ponytail falling over my left shoulder.  “So you’re the famous Peter Sutherland jr or should I call you Copperhead?” 

“You know my Night Agent code name.” Peter chuckles slightly taken back by the fact that I could know something like that.  “Should I address you as Little Eagle?” 

I scoffed, taking a step backwards from him with a smirk forming on my lips.  “Not unless you can catch me first, Sutherland.” Spinning on my heels I chuckled bolting out of the room immediately running while he just sat in his chair. 

“Am I supposed to follow her, ma’am?” Peter eyed the president who simply leaned back into her seat. 

“I’ll warn you in advance that my daughter is quite the rebel.  Meaning she doesn’t do something for no reason.” 

Peter jumped up from his chair and bolted into the hallway after her.  “Shit!” This new job was definitely going to take some adjustment for him.  Y/n Travers would be keeping him on his toes every second of everyday.  

[sutherkins]

what dating peter sutherland is like part two 💌

• be prepared to have everything done for you whether you ask him to do it or not

• did you offhandedly mention the list of chores you need to do? dont worry about it, peters got it covered

• he likes to cook for you

• before he started dating you, he actually had no clue how to cook anything that wasnt super simple like boxed pasta

• in the early stages of the relationship he took cooking classes to get better and while hes not a professional, he can make you some pretty good homemade meals

• in return, you like to exercise your hobby for baking and make him a lot of sweet treats

• he loves watching competitive baking/cooking shows and no one can tell me otherwise

• you both love to watch them together and will wait until both of you are free to catch up on any episodes you missed

• he’s extremely supportive

• going to a pride parade? he’s there to support you (and everyone there) and have fun!

• a protest perhaps? he’ll stand right next to you with his own sign

• he loves dogs

• he loves being in nature

• any time he gets hurt he recites the names of his favorite basketball players to distract himself from the pain

• his favorite place to be is with you at his cabin

• he loves to give you gifts every once in a while especially if he notices that you’ve been eyeing something specific but havent gotten it for yourself yet

• staying in with you is his preferred way to have a date, hes not fond of being around people too much

• he’ll 100% take you to a restaurant, fancy or otherwise, if you want him to

• most of the time theyre diners or small businesses

• peter knows what having a panic attack is like so he for sure will help you out and have techniques and methods for you to try when you’re having one yourself

• this is inspired by @underoospeterparker wonderful period comfort fic that i requested and its that he will literally take care of Everything

• he’ll put a pad in your underwear for you so it’s all ready to go when you need it

• he’ll warm up a heating pad as soon as you ask

• buys you your favorite snacks and some extra pads or tampons (or whatever you use) when you start your period

• peter is like a human furnace so you like to lay on top of him like he’s a living heating pad for your tummy — he enjoys it very much

• he drives you to your therapy appointments and waits in the car until youre done

• he never asks what you talk about in therapy but you usually tell him anyway

• there arent really any secrets between the two of you

• there might have been some things neither of you wanted to talk about at first but eventually you both share them with one another

• peter is actually really funny and always tries to make you laugh

• playing against you is the only time he feels like he’s good at basketball 😭

• “you’re the one who didnt get into the nba!”

• “at least im tall enough to qualify!”

• he pokes fun at your short stature whenever he can

• peter is 6ft tall so he towers over you

• as hot as he thinks you look when you’re wearing his clothes he also finds it hilarious because theyre so long on you

• shirts? they reach your knees

• pants? always have to be rolled up at your hip otherwise you’ll step on the fabric at the bottom and trip yourself (you did this once and peter was very concerned but also couldnt stop laughing)

• he doesnt look after himself the way you think he should, so you’re always paying attention and making sure he’s eating/hydrating when he needs to and getting enough sleep

• i feel like one year for halloween you make him dress like spiderman because they have the same name and you dress as mary jane and do the iconic upside down spiderman kiss

• you’ve basically christened every single room in his apartment

• he might not like every single hobby you have or everything you have an interest in but he’ll always participate if you ask and you do the same for him

• you own skin safe markers and sometimes when you get bored you like to color in his tattoos. he actually really enjoys it and finds it relaxing

• speaking of tattoos

• when he realizes that you’re the one for him and that he wants to be with you for the rest of his life, he gets a tattoo of your initials on his arm

• when you find out about the tattoo you immediately book an appointment for yourself so you can get his initials tattooed on your hip or maybe your wrist

• when he sees it for the first time he thinks its so sexy that you have his initials permanently on your skin that he makes you orgasm like 5 times

• he knows you love homemade personal care products (soap, bath bombs, things like that) and will buy them for you all the time

• you always call him on your way home from work or whatever it is your doing that day and if you’re stressed he’ll set up a relaxing bath for you for when you get home

• and he goes all out

• he goes through your stash of products and even has new ones ready to add to your collection, a nice lavender bath bomb, some rose petals, ect

• he sets up a speaker to play relaxing music and even puts a small table next to the tub thats got some of your favorite snacks on it along with a bottle of water

• he loves to cuddle

• he is literally so needy when it comes to you and just wants any kind of affection he can get from you

[swabsandcream]

Peter Sutherland x Fem Reader One Shot

Summary: After having a day that seemed like it would never end, Y/N found herself in the middle of a crowded bar. Little did she know, the night would take a lovely turn thanks to the disgruntled stranger next to her. 

Warnings: Some curse words, nothing serious :)

It was one of those nights where Y/N felt like she really needed a fucking drink. After having a horribly long day at work, she decided to visit a bar she had only seen from the outside while driving to and from work every day. It was pretty busy that night with almost every table taken up, and all kinds of conversations being had all at once. Y/N observed all of this from where she sat at the countertop, quietly sipping her margarita as she observed the people around her. In the midst of her people-watching, she found herself listening in on the phone conversation the man beside her was having. He kept going on about his father being innocent and that he was going to be the one to clear his name, which then led to him cursing out whoever was on the other end and abruptly hanging up. Y/N didn’t actually get a good look at this man, just a quick glance when he had sat next to her. She figured the last thing he would want is to be looked at after a conversation like that, so she kept her head turned away from him. 

“Sorry you had to hear all that.” The man’s gravelly voice made Y/N turn her head, only slightly to where she could see him out the corner of her eye. She saw that his head was turned in her direction, but still unsure if he was speaking to her. 

“You talking to me?” Y/N turned her head towards him and put her finger to her chest pointing at herself. 

“Nah I was talking to her.” He looks up, directing Y/N attention to the small tv mounted on the side of the wall. It was an old lady in some commercial for laundry detergent. Y/N slowly closed her eyes, recognizing the sarcasm a little too late.

“Yeah, I’m talking to you.” The man chuckled as Y/N turned her head back to him, joining in on the laughter. “I know you could hear all that crap I was saying about my father and-”

“What did your father do...or get accused of? If you don’t mind me asking.” Y/N spoke quietly in effort to keep the people around them from hearing.

 She also took a brief moment to recognize the man for his appearance. He looked like he was in his mid-twenties, tall, and looked very fit in the plain black and white suit he wore. He had brown eyes, short, reddish-brown hair and a face full of freckles.  He was handsome for sure, but Y/N kept herself together as he responded.

“No, it’s fine. I just hope you’re not one of those conspiracy freaks.” Y/N was confused by this comment but gave him a little chuckle and continued listening.

“Peter Sutherland is my father and I’m his son, Peter Sutherland Jr. You might’ve seen him on the news a few years ago...or not” Peter lowered his voice and leaned closer to Y/N so only she could hear him. 

She took a moment to think about where exactly she heard that name before, then she remembered. Her uncle, now retired and no longer living in the DC area, used to work alongside a man named Peter Sutherland in the FBI. Once the story about Peter committing treason came out, her uncle wouldn’t shut up about it. He genuinely believed Peter did it, and that he was a disgrace to the country. Y/N never cared about the situation enough to form her own opinion on the matter, but at the moment she was sitting next to his son who was certain that his father was innocent. She figured that the story about her uncle would be the last thing Peter wanted to hear right now, so she kept it to herself.

“I don’t think I have, I’m sorry.” Y/N lied through her teeth, hoping that he wouldn’t be able to tell. 

“It’s fine. Probably better that way.” Peter dropped his head, feeling ashamed by the whole ordeal he’s having with a complete stranger. On the other hand, he took comfort in the idea that she had no clue about his father. “I’d hate to scare off a pretty girl like you.” He mumbled, looking back up at Y/N to see if she heard that. He watched her lips slowly curl up, revealing her beautiful smile. 

“You’re not so bad yourself Peter. I’m Y/N, by the way. Nice to meet you.” She smiled as she extended her hand out for him to shake. 

“Pleasure’s all mine Y/N.” Peter grabbed hold of Y/N’s hand and brought it up to his lips to place a warm kiss on her smooth skin. 

Peter’s flirtatious behavior was becoming more prevalent by the minute. Little did Y/N know, the seductive man had been watching her ever since she stepped into the bar. He waited to see if she had come alone before making his way over to sit next to her, and just so happened to get a phone call from one of his dad’s old work buddies. He eventually admitted this to Y/N in the midst of chatting her up and buying drinks for both of them to enjoy. As the night went on, the drinks seemed to take effect as neither one of them could seem to take their hands off of one another in the middle of this crowded bar. Y/N shamelessly stroking the tattooed arm of a man she had just met, while Peter’s touches travelled from her shoulders down to her thighs. It was like there was no one in the bar but them as they conversed and laughed throughout the night. Eventually, Y/N ended up looking at her phone while Peter went on about how the Washington Wizards and how he should’ve given basketball a real shot. 

“It’s one in the fucking morning already?” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, looking up at Peter who was also surprised.

“Guess we lost track of time. Am I really that interesting to talk to?” His dry sense of humor amused them both.

“I like you, Peter. Most guys come into a bar, get shitfaced and pull out every corny pick-up line in the book just to try and get laid. Not you though-”

“I’m not like other guys? Speaking of corny pick-up lines-” Peter laughed hysterically and Y/N joined in after playfully smacking him on the arm. He immediately grabbed his arm, pretending to be hurt.

“You know what I mean!” Y/N

“I like you too.” He reaches over to grab Y/N’s hand, looking at her intently. “I’d also like to get to know you better, if that’s ok with you.” 

Y/N felt like she had no reason to turn down his offer, despite the little white lie she told him about not knowing his father, in her eyes he was nothing like the man that her uncle described Sutherland Sr. to be. So as the night came to an end, she agreed to exchange numbers with Peter in hopes of being able to go on a date with the attractive FBI agent.

[gel-electrophoresislab]

The Gala

Peter Sutherland x reader fic

Synopsis: You are Peter’s best friend and fellow night agent. You both get invited to the presidential gala and Peter gets to see you in a whole new light.

Warnings: Kissing, a protective Peter, tooth rotting fluff :)

————————————————————————

"Hey, you ready for this?" Peter asked, his voice coming through the speaker on your phone.

"As ready as I'll ever be," you replied, glancing in the mirror one last time. Your reflection stared back at you, dressed in the elegant gown you had picked out for tonight's gala at the White House. The fabric shimmered under the soft glow of the room's lighting, hinting at the chaos of the evening ahead.

"You're going to knock 'em dead," Peter said. “I’ll see you when you get here”. Peter’s voice held a warmth that you had grown to rely on over the years of working together. Best friends and fellow night agents, you two had been through thick and thin, but this was new territory. The president had personally invited the two of you to the event, a rare occasion for agents of your caliber to step out from the shadows.

The ride to the White House was filled with anxiety. You knew that underneath the glitz and glamour, the gala was a minefield of potential threats and diplomatic tension. You also knew that no one had seen you dressed like this before. You knew how to clean up nice, but you weren’t sure what people would think of you. But for now, you allowed yourselves to enjoy the moment. The car pulled up to the grand entrance, and the doors swung open, revealing a sea of people dressed to impress.

As you stepped out of the vehicle, Peter's gaze swept over you. His eyes widened, and his voice hitched. "Wow," he murmured, the compliment hanging in the air unsaid. It was the first time he had seen you in anything other than your usual tactical gear, and you felt a blush creep up your neck. The romantic tension between you had always been there, a subtle dance of feelings unspoken.

Inside, the grandeur of the White House washed over you. Crystal chandeliers cast a dazzling light across the marble floors, and the air was thick with the scent of expensive cologne and perfume. You and Peter melded into the crowd, blending in despite the eyes that occasionally strayed in your direction. It wasn't every day a new face graced these hallowed halls.

Other agents began to approach, their gazes lingering a bit too long, their smiles a tad too eager. You felt Peter's hand gently rest on the small of your back, a silent assertion of his presence. It was a gesture that was both comforting and surprising. The touch sent a shiver down your spine, but you kept your cool, flashing a professional smile.

"I'm not used to all this attention," you admitted to Peter, leaning in so he could hear you over the din of the crowd.

"You look amazing," he said, his voice low and earnest. "But you know what? I think you're even more beautiful when you're not all dressed up."

His words resonated within you, a reminder of the friendship that had always been the foundation of your relationship. You felt a weight lift off your shoulders as you looked into his eyes, the unspoken romance between you suddenly less burdensome.

And then, as the evening unfolded, you realized that the night had only just begun. The gala was a whirlwind of handshakes, polite conversations, and the constant scanning for threats. Peter was always at your side, a steady anchor in a sea of unpredictability. Yet, amidst the glamour and the danger, there was a shift in the air—a charge that you couldn't ignore. The night was far from over, and you had a feeling that the real adventure was just about to start.

As you moved through the throng of guests, an agent you had never met before approached you with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. He was handsome, you'd give him that, but his hands were a bit too eager. He grazed your arm, and you felt a chill run down your spine. Before you could react, Peter stepped in, his eyes narrowing.

"Everything okay here?" Peter's voice was a low rumble, a warning that didn't go unnoticed. The other agent's smile faltered, his hand retreating from its unwelcome perch on your arm.

"Just admiring the company," the agent replied with a smarmy smile, not quite taking the hint.

But Peter's grip on your waist tightened, a clear message that you were not to be touched by anyone else. You felt a rush of warmth at his protective stance, a feeling that was both comforting and thrilling. "I think she's got enough admirers for one night," he said, his voice a subtle challenge.

The agent took a step back, his smile slipping into a scowl before he turned and melted back into the crowd. You looked up at Peter, your heart racing. "Thanks," you murmured, your eyes searching his for a clue to what he was feeling. But Peter's expression was unreadable, his focus on the task at hand unwavering.

As the night grew late and the gala wound down, you found yourself longing for the simplicity of your apartment, away from the prying eyes and the suffocating formality. "I think I'm going to head out," you told Peter, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I'll walk you home," he offered, his voice steady.

The walk back to your apartment was quiet, the cool night air a welcome respite from the stuffiness of the gala. You were grateful for the solitude, your thoughts racing with the events of the evening. The touch of Peter's hand on your arm was comforting, his presence a balm to the tension that still lingered from the unwanted attention.

Once you reached your building, you turned to him with a smile, your heart thudding in your chest. "Do you want to come up for a bit?" you asked, hopefulness coloring your voice. "Just to hang out, I mean. I know it's been a long night."

For a moment, Peter hesitated, his eyes searching yours. Then, with a nod, he said, "Yeah, I'd like that."

As you rode the elevator to your floor, the silence stretched out between you, filled with the promise of something more. When the doors finally slid open, you stepped into your apartment, the familiar surroundings feeling somehow foreign with Peter by your side. You offered him a drink, which he accepted, his eyes taking in the personal touches that made the space yours.

With a deep breath, you slipped into your bedroom, eager to shed the weight of the gala. You changed into a soft, oversized sweater and a pair of leggings, washing away the layers of makeup that had painted a different version of you. As you emerged, feeling lighter and more like yourself, Peter's gaze found yours. He was sitting on the couch, his tie loose and a small smile playing on his lips.

"There's my girl," he said, the words so simple, yet they hit you like a sucker punch. Your heart skipped a beat, the endearment echoing in your ears. He had never called you that before, not in that way. The warmth of his smile spread through you, chasing away the chill from the evening's tension.

"What do you mean?" you asked, trying to play it cool despite the sudden heat in your cheeks.

"You know, the one who can kick ass and take names without breaking a sweat." He chuckled, his eyes never leaving yours. "But tonight, you got to be someone else, and I kind of missed this version of you."

You couldn't help but laugh, the sound mingling with the music that played softly in the background. "I never got a chance to dance tonight," you said wistfully, looking down at your comfortable outfit.

Without a word, Peter set his drink on the coffee table and extended his hand. "Then let's dance," he said, his voice low and inviting.

You took a step closer, placing your hand in his. His palm was warm, his thumb brushing gently against yours. He pulled you into his arms, and you felt his heartbeat against your chest as the music swelled around you. The living room of your apartment was a far cry from the grand ballroom of the White House, but in that moment, it felt like the most luxurious dance floor you had ever stepped onto.

You moved in sync, your bodies fitting together as if you had been doing this for years. The awkwardness of the evening's encounters faded away, replaced by the familiar rhythm of your partnership. Your eyes met, and you felt something shift between you, a current of understanding and desire that had always been there, just beneath the surface.

As the song came to a close, Peter didn't let go. Instead, he held you closer, your foreheads touching. You could feel his breath on your skin, and the closeness was intoxicating. The silence stretched out, filled with the thunder of your own heartbeat.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the quiet hum of the city outside.

"For what?"

"For being you," you said, looking up into his eyes. "For making me feel like this."

And before you could second guess the moment, Peter leaned down, his lips brushing against yours. It was a gentle kiss, filled with the promise of more. It was a kiss that could change everything.

As you pulled back, breathless, the air between you crackled with the tension of what had just happened. But Peter's smile was soft, his eyes filled with the same affection and friendship you had always seen. It was as if he knew that this was just the beginning, and that the real dance was about to start.

Author’s note: Eeeeeep I can’t believe I’m finally posting writing. I’ve been a long time reader and enjoyer of fanfiction, but never a writer so this is all very new to me. If you have any advice or edits, please let me know!

[baestruly]

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

( 𝗌𝗒𝗇𝗈𝗉𝗌𝗂𝗌 )  peter sutherland x fem!reader

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

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 - fluff

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

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

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

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

“every day you say this.” 

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

“have you eaten?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 masterlist peter sutherland masterlist

[underoospeterparker]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[charmingwords23]

Fanfic: No Turning Back

Fandom: The Night Agent

Pairing: Peter Sutherland / Rose Larkin

Summary: When witnesses in high profile cases keep being murdered before they can take the stand, Peter is tasked with a Night Action investigation to figure out what's going on and who is behind it. He is left with one lead: the Global Technology Innovation Summit, an exclusive week-long conference for tech leaders at a high end resort in Mexico. The only catch? To get in, he'll have to attend as the guest of the one woman he never wanted to see involved in a Night Action assignment again.

Chapter: 1/15 (?)

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62977264/chapters/161279341

I needed to write something to follow up Season 2 since it ruined me!! I hope it ends up bringing someone out there as much comfort to read as it's bringing me to write. :)

[miniwhisk]

Universal Distress Signal

If Peter was going to keep Rose safe, she had to forget him. He made her promise to leave him behind, to go live her life and try to heal from all of their hurt, to stop running. And she did, standing completely still and holding his watery gaze through Catherines window as he was driven away from the hotel - to where, he didn’t know. 

She promised him that she would forget him.

He never said anything about forgetting her. 

——————————————————————————————————

“Ad Verse is a company that I, along with my esteemed colleagues, have worked tirelessly to build with the highest possible level of transparency and accountability - our privacy is extremely valuable in today’s day and age, but we can work with stakeholders rather than against them to reframe the business-consumer relationship to one built on mutual trust and understanding.”

Peter’s coffee was getting cold. He told himself he liked it better that way, that since he had gotten used to the hardships of field work he was above everyday luxuries like a hot drink. The truth was, he missed the little things like that- waking up with the sunrise, long walks around the Washington Mall - or did he really just miss the person he remembered, that he dreamed, of enjoying those things with?

After glancing at the door as its bell rang, he let his eyes go back to the tv in the corner of the cafe where news coverage of SXSW was playing at a barely audible volume. Thankfully, the captions were on, so he could keep track of what was happening without appearing too interested. A recap of the Women in Tech panel was just ending, and he wasn’t going to miss a single second of her.

She looked good, he thought. More than good. She’d cut her hair into a choppy bob, framing her eyes and giving her an air of sophistication that he’d never gotten to see her with before. She wore a green blazer over dark jeans, her legs crossed and to the side as she leaned toward the interviewer. And those boots. Those stupid ankle boots.

“So, Ms. Campbell, are there any people who helped you along your road to success?”

Peter bristled at the insinuation that Rose needed anyone’s help - she was brilliant, strong, resilient. She didn’t need anyone anymore. Including him.

Rose smiled shyly. “My aunt and uncle, before they passed, made me believe that I could accomplish anything I set my mind to. My first computer science professor, Dr. Lang, encouraged me to stick with it when I felt like a total fish out of water.”

She paused for a moment.

“And my friends. They looked out for me, were there for me when things got tough. I want them to know that I wouldn’t be where I am today without them.” 

She looked away from the interviewer and into the camera then, and Peter gave himself one small luxury - the delusion that she was somehow, someway, looking at him. God, if all he ever got to do was look at her one more time…

“Thank you so much, Rose! We know you have a busy schedule and rarely get to be the face of all your hard work, and we appreciate you being here! Best of luck to you and the rest of the AdVerse team!”

Rose stood then, shaking the interviewer’s hand and looked out to the applauding audience. She waved as she walked to exit, but turned her body at the last second back towards center stage. 

Peter watched on as she zeroed in on the camera, waved once more, then held her hand still, palm outstretched, before folding her fingers down over her thumb. She waited only a moment more, then turned quickly on her heel and exited the stage, out of view.

He must be seeing things. After 48 hours with no sleep, he couldn’t trust his own senses to know whether or not that had really happened, if that meant what he thought it meant. But no, they had talked about it when they went to Sloane’s suite all those months ago, trying to get to Markus before it was too late.

The universal distress signal. 

Peter was frozen, but his mind was going a mile a minute. How could he get to her without putting her back on Monroe’s radar? He had just started to climb the ranks and build trust, if you could even call it that. Why was she in danger? Where was she now?

Then everything stopped. In a moment of clarity, all Peter could think, could feel, was that Rose needed him. He had to find her, to help her, and to get her out of whatever situation she was in. 

He had done bad things to save her before. He would do much worse if he was too late. 

The bell on the door cracked against the wall as it swung out of his way. 

[misscongeniality18]

Masterlist !

Requests are open, use this guide to help you if you’re stuck!

* Smut (18+ Minors DNI)

The Night Agent 

Go Ahead and Watch My Heart Burn - The Night Agent Still Falling For You - Peter Sutherland x fem!reader Part One     Part Two Photograph - Peter Sutherland x Reader Nervous - Peter Sutherland x Reader I Do - Peter Sutherland x fem!reader Perfect - Peter Sutherland x fem!reader Keep Holding On - Peter Sutherland x fem!reader Anything Could Happen - Peter Sutherland x fem!reader Fallin' For You - Peter Sutherland x Reader

Shadow & Bone / Six of Crows

* Movement - Kaz Brekker x fem!reader Arms - Wylan Hendriks x male!durast!reader x Jesper Fahey

[allthetreksfanfics]

Night Action

Fandom: The Night Agent

Pairing: Peter Sutherland x Female Reader, Explic*t, 18 plus, read tag warnings

Synopsis: While on the run, Peter and reader spend the night together in Jim’s basement…

Words: 1525

Link (Archive of Our Own) - Night Action

[daydreamgoddess14]

Valentine's Lovebomb Prompts 💘

Doesn't it feel like I did this not so long ago for Christmas?! 🤭 Well, I'm back on my bullshit and ready to shower you all with love!

I am a Valentine's baby so I wanted to share the birthday love with you all 💕

Usual (no)rules apply - pick your prompt/s, character/s, and add a sprinkle of anything else you fancy. Send it over to me, and sometime around Valentine's Day, you will be lovebombed!

1. Navigating a long-distance relationship on Valentine's Day 💕

2. Accidentally getting double-booked on Valentine's Day 💖

3. Searching for love through a series of speed dating events 💘

4. A secret admirer leaving anonymous gifts leading up to Valentine's Day 💌

5. A pair of exes who still have feelings for each other running into each other 💜

6. Two co-workers who secretly have a crush on each other, revealing their feelings 💗

7. A group of friends playing a daring game of Truth or Dare on Valentine's Day, leading to some unexpected revelations 💞

8. Someone unexpectedly finds themself in a steamy encounter with a stranger on Valentine's Day 💝

[letthewhumpbegin]

My next writing project: Bad Things Happen Bingo!

After completing my current pending requests, my next writing "project" will be trying to complete my Bad Things Happen Bingo Card!

Most of the prompts have already been requested for, but the final few will be decided by poll who / which fandom I'll be writing them for.

So, here is the first one:

[sutherkins]

what dating peter sutherland is like ! 💌

part one because i have a lot of thoughts about what dating him would he like

• loves calling you cute pet names (pretty girl, sweetheart, princess, angel, baby are his top 5)

• he has insomnia and has a hard time falling asleep

• he accidentally stays up all night sometimes to make sure you’re okay if you have a scary encounter that day

• hes so protective of you, he asks you if you need him to beat someone up, you think hes just joking but he’s being completely serious

• he likes to lay on your lap while you play with his hair, it relaxes him so much that sometimes he falls asleep

• very handsy but like, in a respectful way

• he knows your boundaries whether you’re in public or at home and wont cross them

• you first met when you moved in next to him and eventually you’re at his place so often that he just asks you to move in

• he loves holding your hand, it grounds him

• when you moved in you practically forced him to let you keep your giant clawfoot bathtub and he finds that he likes it too because that means theres room for both of you and if you think peter likes cuddles he loves wet, naked ones

• speaking of wet and naked

• he’s really good at eating pussy. dont ask me how i know, i just do

• he’s super attentive and rly takes his time getting to know your body and the certain things that make you tick

• he loves when you’re on top

• you both have a praise kink which works out because you both love praising eachother

• he can get kinky but he really isnt into anything too crazy

• i know we all want this man to top us but lets be real if he had to choose he’d be on the bottom because he loves looking at you and he thinks its hot having you on top and being controlling

• if im being like, completely honest and faithful to the character, id say his kinks are as follows

• praise kink, light bondage, i think he’d be open to being blindfolded and doing the same to you, is lingerie kink a thing?

• any kink that could hurt you is pretty much off limits

• he tries some light breath play on you when you ask him and he finds that he actually doesnt mind it as long as its nothing crazy

• if hes not being submissive hes being a very very gentle dom. as much as i’d for him to dominate the hell out of me its just not the way his brain is wired

• most of the time you’re both on a level playing field though

• he likes slow, sensual, hard and soul crushing sex

• he can go fast if you want him to but he likes to savor the moment and drag the pleasure out for as long as he can

• and even though he isnt a rough guy in bed, he still takes the best care of you afterwards

• he cleans you up, brings you water or juice — maybe a snack too

• makes you drink and eat before reminding you to go to the bathroom

• while you’re in there he gets ur pjs and anything else u need ready (medications and whatnot) and helps you into them before laying back on the bed for you to curl up in his arms

• he kisses your head softly and murmurs “love you, pretty girl” before you settle into sleep

[mariablakesworld]

Can someone please write a Peter Sutherland smut and tag me in it PLEASE

[gel-electrophoresislab]

The Icy Pond

Peter Sutherland x Reader

Warnings: Icy pond, non sexual nudity, Kissing, minors dni

————————————————————————

The wind whispered a warning through the leafless trees as we approached the pond. It was a cold, moonless night, the stars above shivering in the inky sky. Peter and I, two agents of the night, were tailing a target that had led us on a merry chase through the quiet suburban park.

"Remember, Y/n," Peter had said earlier that evening, his breath frosting in the frigid air, "the ice isn't thick enough to hold us. We stick to the path."

I nodded, my eyes gleaming with the thrill of the pursuit. Peter's words echoed in my mind, but the path was longer, and every second counted. The target was slipping away. We had to move fast.

Crunching through the snow, I spotted a shortcut—a frozen pond, glistening under the distant street lamps. It was a risk, but one I was willing to take. I knew Peter would follow.

Without a second thought, I bolted onto the ice. It groaned under my boots, but held firm. The cold bite of the wind stung my cheeks as I gained ground. The target's footsteps grew clearer in my mind, the thrum of my heart drowning out the creaks of the ice beneath me.

But the universe has a cruel sense of humor. Just as I reached the pond's center, the ice let out an ominous crack. I felt the world tilt, and suddenly, I was plunging into the icy abyss.

The cold water slapped me like a giant's hand, stealing the air from my lungs. Panic swirled through me, thick and paralyzing, as the freezing water closed over my head. I thrashed, my legs kicking uselessly, searching for a foothold that wasn't there. The world was muffled, my thoughts racing like a rabbit in a snare.

Then, a hand—warm, strong, and reassuring—closed around my arm. Peter. His face was a blur through the water's surface, but the fierce determination in his eyes was clear. He'd seen me fall, had rushed to my side without hesitation. The ice creaked and groaned, but he didn't care. He was going to pull me out.

My teeth chattered as he hoisted me onto the unsteady ice. It took everything I had to roll away from the treacherous edge. The cold seeped into my bones, turning them to lead. I gasped for air, my breath coming in ragged puffs that painted the night air white. Peter knelt beside me, his own breathing heavy, his eyes searching my face for any sign of injury.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice tight with concern.

I nodded, my voice lost to the cold. My body trembled violently, and my teeth chattered so hard they hurt. Peter peeled off his own winter coat, wrapping it around my shivering frame. His warmth seeped into me, bringing a semblance of comfort.

"We need to get you warm," he said, his voice gruff. "We can't risk hypothermia."

He helped me to my feet, and we stumbled back to the path, leaving the pond and its treacherous embrace behind us. The chase was forgotten for the moment, overshadowed by the stark reality of survival. We had to find shelter—and fast.

As Peter scooped me into his arms, the warmth from his body was like a beacon of hope in the frigid night. He began to sprint, his long legs eating up the ground as he carried me away from the icy trap. Each step felt like a small victory, a defiance against the biting cold that threatened to claim me.

My eyes fell shut as the world spun, the only thing anchoring me to reality was Peter's steady breathing and the rhythmic thump of his heart against my chest. I could feel the heat of him seeping into my frozen bones, a gentle warmth that spread through me like a balm.

The jolting motion stopped, and I heard the crunch of snow underfoot followed by the sound of a door opening. The sudden influx of warm air was like a warm embrace, and I was vaguely aware of Peter carrying me into a dimly lit cabin. The scent of pine and woodsmoke filled my nose, a stark contrast to the icy pond.

He laid me down on something soft—a couch, I realized as it creaked beneath my weight. The heat from a nearby fireplace wrapped around me like a warm blanket. I couldn't feel my hands or feet, and my teeth chattered so badly it hurt to breathe. Peter's eyes searched my face, a mix of fear and concern.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice gruff and low. "I've got to get these wet clothes off you."

With trembling hands, he began to unbutton my shirt. I tried to help, but my fingers felt like they were made of ice. He peeled the soaking fabric away, revealing my shivering skin. He worked with a gentle urgency, his movements precise and efficient. His eyes never left mine, seeking silent permission.

As my clothes came off, the warmth of the room began to seep into me, but it was a battle against the icy grip of the water. Peter's touch was firm, yet tender, as he stripped me of the sodden layers. Each piece of clothing that fell away was a victory against the cold, but the process was painfully slow.

"Thank you," I managed to murmur through chattering teeth.

"It's okay," he said, his own teeth clicking together. "We've got to warm you up."

Without a moment's hesitation, Peter removed his own shirt and wrapped it around me. It smelled faintly of gunpowder and mint—his scent—and was surprisingly warm. He hovered over me, his own breathing ragged, his eyes searching my face for signs of improvement.

The warmth began to spread through my body, chasing the cold back into the shadows. I felt a surge of gratitude for his quick thinking, his selflessness. Peter had always been like that—reliable, strong, and unyielding. But now, in this moment of vulnerability, I saw a different side of him. A tenderness that made my heart ache in a way that had nothing to do with the cold.

The cabin was small, but it was a haven. Peter had lit a fire that roared in the hearth, casting a warm glow across the wooden walls. He crouched beside me, peeling away my frozen boots and socks, his eyes never leaving mine. He rubbed my icy feet with his calloused hands, trying to bring the feeling back.

"You're going to be okay," he said, his voice steady and calm. "Just hold on."

He pulled me closer to him, his bare chest pressed against my icy skin. His warmth was like a beacon, a lifeline that I clung to desperately. His heart thudded against my ear, a reassuring rhythm that echoed the promise of survival. His arms were a warm cocoon around me, his chest a furnace that chased away the cold.

"I'm sorry," Peter whispered, his breath warm against my cheek. "This is the best way."

He began to rub my arms and legs vigorously, trying to generate heat. His skin was like a warm embrace, and I could feel the chill retreating from my body inch by inch. The warmth grew, spreading through me like a wildfire. The tremors in my body began to subside, the cold receding from the fiery warmth of his touch.

"Your core temperature is dropping too fast," Peter said, his voice tight with worry. "We need to warm you up."

With a gentle yet firm grip, he turned me onto my side and began to rub my back. The friction created a delicious heat that spread through me, thawing the ice that had taken hold of my very essence. His touch was sure and methodical, each stroke bringing a little more warmth to my frozen limbs.

As the cold loosened its grip, a new sensation began to creep in—pain. It was a dull ache at first, a distant whisper that grew louder as the blood returned to my extremities. I winced, but Peter didn't miss a beat. He simply tightened his grip and continued rubbing, his eyes never leaving mine.

"It's okay," he murmured. "You're safe now."

The pain grew, but so did the warmth. I focused on Peter's eyes, the way they crinkled at the corners when he was worried, the way the firelight danced across his features. His touch was a promise, a silent vow that he'd never let go. And in that moment, I knew I could trust him with more than just my life—I could trust him with the secrets of my heart.

The chill of the night was forgotten, replaced by the warmth of Peter's arms. His skin was a lifeline, a bridge between life and the cold embrace of the pond. Each rub, each press of his hand brought me back to the world of the living. I could feel my heart slowing, the panic of the fall receding like the tide.

"You're okay," he said, his voice a gentle rumble. "You're going to be okay."

I nodded, the tremors in my body slowly fading away. The cold had been vanquished by his warmth, his care. We sat there, wrapped in the warmth of the cabin and each other, the fire crackling a comforting lullaby.

For a moment, the world outside ceased to exist. There was only Peter, his warmth, and the fierce beat of his heart—a rhythm that matched my own. And in that moment, I knew that no matter what the night had in store for us, together, we could face it.

The chase was on hold, the mission forgotten. Our priority was simple: stay alive and warm. And as Peter's hands continued their tireless work, as the warmth of the fire wrapped around us like a comforting blanket, I couldn't help but feel that for the first time in a long while, we were truly alive.

"I'm sorry," Peter said again, his voice thick with apology. "I know this isn't the time for it, but I had to get you out of the cold."

He was apologizing for invading my space, for the intimacy of his actions. But all I felt was a profound sense of gratitude. Without him, I'd be lost in that icy embrace, my life snuffed out like a candle in the wind.

"Don't be," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "I'd do the same for you."

His eyes searched mine, looking for the truth behind my words. I held his gaze, willing him to understand. The bond between agents was unbreakable, a silent vow to have each other's backs. And in that moment, as I sat there shivering in his arms, it was clear that Peter took that vow to heart.

He nodded slowly, the tension in his jaw easing slightly. "If anything had happened to you..." His voice trailed off, the unspoken words hanging heavily in the air.

The fire crackled and spit, casting flickering shadows across the cabin. The warmth was finally reaching my core, and with it, the realization of just how close I'd come to the edge. Peter had saved my life. He'd risked his own to pull me out of the water, to warm me up, to keep me alive.

"Nothing happened," I said, my voice a little stronger now. "You're here, and so am I."

He offered a small, tight smile, his eyes never leaving mine. The room was quiet except for the hiss of the fire and the sound of our breathing—his steady and warm, mine still ragged from the cold. The weight of the night's events began to settle over us, the gravity of the situation sinking in.

We sat there, wrapped in the warmth of the cabin and each other's presence, until my shivering had ceased and the color had returned to my cheeks. The fire had turned from a ravenous beast to a gentle companion, licking at the wood with lazy tongues of flame.

"We should get you some dry clothes," Peter said finally, his voice still low.

He rose, the movement sending a shiver down my spine despite the warmth of the room. He moved to a closet in the corner and rummaged through the contents, his back to me. He returned with a pile of clothes—sweatpants and a thick sweatshirt that looked like they'd swallow me whole.

With shaking hands, I took the clothes from him, our fingers brushing in a way that sent a jolt through me. He turned away, giving me privacy, as I slowly changed, each movement sending a fresh wave of pain through my frozen limbs. The clothes were too big, but they were warm, and that was all that mattered.

When I was dressed, I looked up to find Peter watching me, his expression unreadable. He handed me a mug of steaming tea, the warmth of it seeping into my cold hands.

"Thank you," I said, my voice a little stronger now.

He nodded, his eyes never leaving mine. We sat in silence for a while, sipping our tea and watching the fire. The night outside was still and cold, a stark contrast to the warmth of the cabin. But we were safe, at least for now.

As the warmth of the tea spread through me, I felt the last of the chill retreat. The tremors in my limbs subsided, and the ache of the cold was replaced by a gentle glow. I leaned into Peter, my head finding a natural resting place on his shoulder.

He tensed for a moment before relaxing, his arm slipping around my shoulders. "You scared me," he murmured.

I knew he meant more than just the fall into the pond. He'd seen the recklessness in my eyes, the thrill of the chase that had led me to ignore his warnings. But I had trusted him to save me, and he had come through without a second thought.

"I know," I said softly. "I'm sorry."

He didn't respond, just held me tighter. And in that moment, I knew that our friendship had shifted, had grown stronger in the face of the cold.

Then, without warning, Peter's hand cupped my cheek, turning my face towards his. His eyes searched mine for a second, looking for permission, for reassurance. And when he found it, he leaned in and kissed me.

It was gentle, a soft press of his warm lips against mine. The kiss was filled with all the unspoken words of the night—his fear for me, his relief at finding me alive, his concern as he warmed me up. It was a declaration of more than friendship, a promise of protection that went beyond our job descriptions.

I leaned into the kiss, the warmth of his mouth a stark contrast to the icy water that had tried to claim me. His arms wrapped around me, pulling me closer, and suddenly, the cold was forgotten. The kiss grew deeper, more urgent, as if we were trying to banish the chill that still clung to my skin.

Our breaths mingled, hot and desperate, as we broke apart. Peter's eyes searched my face, looking for any sign of doubt or regret. But all I felt was the warmth of his kiss spreading through me, thawing the last of the ice that had lodged in my heart.

"Y/n," he said, his voice raw with emotion. "What are we doing?"

"We're alive," I replied, my voice just as shaky. "And I'm not going to let this moment pass without telling you how I feel."

His thumb brushed my cheek, wiping away a tear that had escaped my eye. "I've felt it too," he confessed. "But we can't let it interfere with the mission."

I nodded, understanding the gravity of his words. Our job was dangerous, and distraction could mean the difference between life and death. But in the quiet of the cabin, with the fire whispering to us in a language of warmth and comfort, it was hard to remember the world outside.

"I know," I said, my voice a little steadier. "But we're not on the job right now. We're just Peter and y/n."

He took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling against me. Then, with a nod, he leaned in for another kiss. This one was slower, more deliberate. Our tongues danced together, exploring each other as if for the first time. The kiss grew deeper, more urgent, until it was all I could feel.

The world outside the cabin walls faded away, and all that remained was the warmth of Peter's body, the scent of mint and pine, and the steady rhythm of his heart. His hands roamed my back, tracing the curves of my spine, sending shivers down my body that had nothing to do with the cold.

We pulled back, both panting, our eyes locked. The tension in the room was palpable, a living thing that crackled in the air like static. Peter reached out, brushing a strand of wet hair from my forehead. His touch was feather-light, but it sent a jolt of electricity through me.

"We can't," he said, his voice strained. "We have to focus."

I nodded, reluctantly breaking the spell. The mission was important, and we couldn't afford to let our emotions cloud our judgment. With a deep sigh, I leaned back into the couch, the warmth of the tea and Peter's body a comfort against the cold that still lingered in my bones.

"You're right," I said, taking another sip of the tea. "But for now, let's just be Peter and y/n."

He nodded, his arm still around me, and we sat in silence, watching the fire. The flames danced and played, casting shadows that painted our faces in a warm glow. It was a brief reprieve from the world of espionage and danger that we both knew was waiting for us outside.

As the warmth of the cabin seeped into me, I felt the weight of the night's events begin to lift. The chase, the fall, the kiss—it all felt like a dream, a moment out of time. But Peter's arm around me was real, his heartbeat a steady reminder that we were in this together.

We had survived the pond, and we would survive whatever the night had in store for us. The mission would go on, and we would be stronger for it. But for now, we were just two people, finding warmth in the cold embrace of the night.

Author’s note: Eeeeeep I can’t believe I’m finally posting writing. I’ve been a long time reader and enjoyer of fanfiction, but never a writer so this is all very new to me. If you have any advice or edits, please let me know!

[cozypancakes]

when you’re furiously writing a fic and realize at some point you switched from past tense to present tense -_-