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mysteriousrainsworld · 5 months ago

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idk how to explain how this is making me feel, it’s just… in my bones… i’m pumping endorphin… and idek what that’s actually like

just the way it is written is giving me life 😭😭 young me and now me having their favourite types of fic merged 🫶

i have so much i wanna praise and talk about but i feel like i have no words left and id have to wait for the next chapters anyway 😭🫶

i just rlly want u to know i can clearly envision everything AND I LOVE IT im gonna eat this up so bad

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏: 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞 𝟏 - 𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐮𝐞

pairing: mafia! ot8 x undercover officer! reader (fem)

genre: mafia/organized crime au, drama, angst

w.c: 3.3k

ch. summary: after countless months of preparation and ensuing anxiety, you finally revisit the infamous Black Pirates, but from the other side of the law, and it’s almost as if you’ve never left.

ch. warnings: not too many….uhhh very light depictions of violence, a bit of blood, a bit of manhandling (not the sexy kind), mingi is unhinged (?) and has a gun lmao, no smut this time but just you waittttt

a/n: hi thereeeee i cannot tell you how excited i am to share this with you all 🥹 this is my first mini series and i’ve never tackled anything this big before so please be patient with me when it comes to updates~~ (also this chapter will be the shortest of them all given it’s the intro hehe) but aaaaaaa i’m so happy we can go on this journey together >w< now sit back, relax, and enjoy ~ and if you like, please pleasee share your thoughts and feedback with me <33

song rec: scene 1 - value ~ ateez, concrete jungle ~ bad omens

fic masterlist

“Are you ready for this?”

All you could hear was your heart thumping inside your ears, unable to focus on your Commander in Chief’s loaded question, tuning into the sounds of keyboard tapping and faceless chattering about the current crimes and cases that were plugging up the figurative drain of your local prescient, rather than what he was saying to you. Were you ready to infiltrate one of the most prevalent crime families your law enforcement agency has come to know and loathe over the better part of the year? Not as their friend, but this time, as an enemy? They had half your city in the palm of their hands and were itching to take it over, pushing the drug and gun trade into overdrive, washing countless loads of dirty dollar bills, and in turn, leaving you and your agency to clean up the mess they left behind — and what a mess they always made. Bullets, bodies, and broken dreams. Crime and punishment. Officers, regulations, and yellow tape. An endless game of chess that nobody ever seemed to win. The perpetrators of this game, their faces never left your mind, etching their likeness inside the grooves of your memory even after being away from them all for so long, at least, until now — if you stopped being such a goddamn pussy and answered your boss.

“Y/N…? You can back out if you need to…” He gave you an apologetic smile. “Given your history, I know it might be a lot on you. We can always put somebody else in instead.”

“No..!” you suddenly protested, bringing a closed fist near your mouth as you forcefully cleared your throat. “With all due respect, sir, I’ve been preparing myself for this since you helped me…change course and join the academy.” Realizing you were digging your nails into your palms, you relaxed your grip, leaving red idents behind. “And, of course, when we realized what the Kim Estate was actually doing behind closed doors.”

“It certainly wasn’t tennis,” the seasoned man chuckled softly, leaning back slightly inside his fraying office chair, rubbing at his eyes from underneath his reading glasses, not aware of how prominent his eye bags were becoming. He let out a small sigh. “Y/N, I have a lot of trust in you. Going back into that world as an undercover operative is not a walk in the park under any circumstances, but this…they have proven to be unpredictable. I’ll ask you once more. Are you sure you can handle this case?”

In all honesty, you were never too sure what you could handle, both in your professional and personal life, but the uncertainty never stopped you from diving in headfirst. And this, this case, being one of the dominos that would knock them all down, well…it was simply too delicious to pass up.

You stood up, bowing your head to your superior, before giving him a knowing nod. “I’m ready, sir.”

Your closest friend back in your police academy days and fellow undercover partner, Yeonjun, was the first person you spotted upon exiting your boss’ office, well, specifically his bright red hair, slowly navigating past the maze of desks and whispering coworkers to make it over to him, privy to the looks some of them gave you as you slipped past them — though it didn’t phase you anymore. Your past did not define you. At least, that’s what your therapist had been telling you the past few years.

“Hey, partner,” Yeonjun greeted you with a smile, reaching out to hand you a paper cup full of freshly steeped coffee, leaning back to sit down on the crowded surface of his desk. “Tomorrow’s the big day. You ready?”

You took the steaming cup, your jaw tensing as the bitter liquid hit your tastebuds. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be, Choi.” You always thought of someone else when you uttered that surname. He was the complete opposite of your partner here: calm and collected, soulless when he wanted to be and full of love the very next moment, ticking back between the two like a malfunctioning metronome. You hated him for it.

“Hey, it’s just Yeon, now. Come tomorrow, I won’t be my normal sexy self.” He pulled his freshly printed fake ID out of his t-shirt pocket and held it up to your face, replicating the toothy smile he had inside the picture. “Well, still sexy, yeah?”

Chuckling, you leaned in, studying the fake ID, impressed by how real it looked. “Very sexy, Yeon, but remind me why you dyed your hair red? Is it the quarter life crisis settling in?”

Yeonjun rolled his eyes, tucking his ID back into his pocket. “Ha-ha, funny. I just thought I should look the part if I’m going in as some renowned hacker.”

You pushed a few files out of the way to lean against Yeonjun’s desk beside him. “Have you been studying up on your skills then?”

“Of course, I have. I know I joke around a lot, but I’ve dedicated my life to this, Y/N…”

You looked down at Yeonjun’s hand, the one that rested on the desk in between you, his fingers drumming against the surface. “Good, because they don’t play around…”

The drumming stopped. Yeonjun turned his head to look at you, a flicker of light inside his brown eyes, like he was trying to understand you. “Do you…ever think about your life before the academy? Before this? Do you wish you could go back?”

You bit into your lip, gazing past Yeonjun’s hand at one of the files that contained information about the very people you would be betraying. “I…just want to be good. Do what’s right…That’s why I left all of that. It’s why I’m here now.”

He leaned over slightly until his shoulder pressed into yours, using his pinky to nudge at yours. “Not many would do what you’ve done, y’know. Giving up their way of life for something like this.”

You nudged back, staring into the half empty cup of coffee you were still holding onto. “Not many people are this stupid.”

“Not stupid.” Yeonjun pretended to clink his empty paper cup against yours, giving you a soft smile. “Brave. You’re the key component of this entire operation, Y/N. That’s huge. You’ll make a difference. Isn’t that what this is all about?”

“Maybe…you’re right,” you replied softly, once again distracted by the folder from before, the one that was slightly open just enough to reveal the image of a man with slick back hair, dressed in quaint Victorian style clothes, with a big bow wrapped around his neck. Kim Hongjoong, owner of the Kim Estate and leader of the Black Pirate Organization. You knew him all too well, and all his closest cohorts. Would they recognize you? You hadn’t seen them since you were a young girl, forgotten by most and lost inside a system that didn’t care about you, except for the ambitious young man that swore he would one day be sat atop his ivory tower with those that followed his path. And now there he was, living the high life inside his big shiny mansion, sipping on fine wine, while you were still forcing down bitter instant coffee day after day, surrounded by people that looked at you, but never really saw you for what you were, whatever that was. Maybe Hongjoong knew.

“Y/N…? You’re staring off into space again…” Yeonjun whispered near you, getting up from the desk once you came back to Earth. “Anyways, it’s late, and we have a lot to do tomorrow. We should get going.”

“You’re right, we need as much rest as we can get.” You stretched out your legs before standing back up, just now noticing that you were the only two left inside the workspace, the light from your Chief’s office still peeking out past the dusty blinds. Maybe your Chief knew.

Packing up your briefcase, you smiled at Yeonjun. “Should I dye my hair too?”

Yeonjun pouted, resting his own briefcase against his hip. “That’s my thing.”

Particles of dust and dirt filled your lungs, joining the blood that you began to choke on. It hurt to breathe, but your body carried on supplying oxygen to your lungs, not giving you a choice in the matter. You rolled over onto your back to face the night sky, your teary eyes focusing on the twinkling stars and the bright blue moon that loomed over the town, storm clouds rolling past until they blocked out the pretty view. Heavy rain began to pour down, soaking you to the bone. Even though you were losing the will to live, you still held onto the silver pair of scissors that you used to prove a point, even though it might’ve cost you your life. That was still something. However, your dear mentor still stood over you, his neck being clutched tightly by his trembling fingers, crimson slowly slipping past them.

“See what happens when you bite the hand that feeds you? Ungrateful brat,” he choked out in between shallow breaths. Frustrated, he let out a gurgled growl, tossing his bloodied shank onto the dirt road beside his feet. You could’ve sworn you saw tears slip down his flushed cheeks, but then again, it was raining. “I didn’t want to do this…but you gave me no choice.”

His closest companion took a step forward to securely grasp his upper arm, urging him, “Sir, we need to get you to the nearest hideout. I won’t let you bleed out like this.”

The disheveled man’s other trusted subordinate placed a gloved hand on one of his shoulders, squeezing into it with urgency. He surveyed you past his foggy glasses, pushing them up the slope of his nose. His eyes were once filled with a sense of endearment when he looked at you, but now, they held contempt. “She made her decision, sir.”

The struggling leader turned his head to look back and forth between his dear followers, then at his men who all waited behind them, their rain-streaked faces contorted with conflicted apprehension. They stood perfectly still like statues, until the all too familiar sound of sirens rang out in the distance. That’s when they all scattered, like rats, escaping from the flashing lights and disappearing into the dark of the night.

Your soon to be killer was the last one to leave, looming over you as though he was Death himself, beads of rain, sweat, and blood dripping from his chin and down onto your face below. “Just one question, darling…” He held his neck tighter than before, growing dizzier from all the blood loss. “Why?”

A small, self-satisfied laugh painfully bellowed from your chest, causing you to grab at your stomach where it had been sliced into. “The blade cuts both ways, sir. I was just following your lead…” You weakly lifted your hand up in the air, as though you wanted to reach him, but simply couldn’t. “Why aren’t you proud of the monster you created?”

The man began to beam at you, but the corner of his lips stretched to an unfathomable degree, as though he had carved a smile into his own face. He lifted his chin up just enough to rid himself of the shadow that was cast over him, his brown eyes now void of anything, simply black. Soulless. “Oh, darling…the monster was always there. I simply dug it up.”

You suddenly woke up and sat upright in your bed, your entire body covered in a layer of sweat, leading you to desperately kick off the comforter that had trapped you inside the sweltering heat. Upon realizing you were no longer caught inside a warped memory from your adolescence, you looked down at your stomach, lifting up the edge of your shirt to see if your scar was still there, sighing softly when you saw the jagged patch of skin.

Your past doesn't define you. He doesn't define you — none of them do. And, now, you had the opportunity to create your own definition, and get a little revenge while you were at it.

“Do we ring the doorbell…?” Yeonjun asked from beside you, nervously shifting his weight from foot to foot, getting a bit dizzy from trying to take in all of the glory of the Kim Estate.

You were too busy studying the faded stains of blood left on the stone floor below to notice how out of character Yeonjun was already behaving, not that you could blame him. A similar prick of anxiety was already embedding itself into your mind, but you waved it away as soon as it made itself present. “We may be entering a lion’s den, but we won’t behave like them. I’ll knock.”

Yeonjun nodded swiftly, clutching the handle of his messenger bag tightly inside his sweaty hand. “Hopefully they don’t eat us alive.”

You gently pushed a few strands of hair behind your ear, making sure you didn’t disturb the positioning of the micro earpiece that was sitting just behind your tragus. “They won’t, as long as we prove our worth.”

You grabbed onto the obnoxious ivory door knocker, and just as you were about to make your presence known, you found yourself being yanked into the mansion by someone much bigger than you, Yeonjun’s squeaks of protest becoming background noise as soon as the man slammed you against the nearest wall. What felt to be the cold barrel of a compact handgun pressed up into the bottom of your chin with a click, your assailant’s focused, deep-set eyes boring into your own. “Is this how you welcome all your guests?”

“Not all of them…some I leave dead on the doorstep before they can even get a chance to beg on their knees,” the man muttered in a distinctly gravelly voice, a small chuckle bubbling out of his throat. Usually, the people he dealt with would be pissing themselves at this point, but it just seemed to be another day for this strangely familiar visitor.

You could almost see your partner out of the corner of your eye, already on his own knees, his distinctively red hair being held onto by a nameless man in a 3-hole knit balaclava. It was then that you angled your head up slightly to get a good look at your old friend, feeling the barrel push harder into your skin. “Every guard dog has to have their fun, right? And, if you blew my head off now, well, where’s the fun in that?”

“You’re right, doll.” The tall man’s plump lips quirked up into a smirk, slowly dragging his gun past your chin, down your neck, and along the softest parts of your body, poking and prodding at you in an attempt to humiliate you. “Should I see how many new holes I can give you? Fill them all with hot lead?”

“At least buy me a drink first,” you said through gritted teeth, trying not to show any discomfort when he pushed the loaded gun roughly into your abdomen, directly into your scar, not that he could’ve known it was there.

He seemed to enjoy your pained response, leaning his head back to let out a sudden laugh, one that was short and abrupt like a bark. “You’re one crazy bitch…” The man licked over his plump lips. “I like that.”

It was just then that somebody else entered the foyer, their presence so distinctly powerful, the lot of you couldn’t help but notice before he even stepped foot in the room. “Is that any way to treat a valued guest, Mingi? I thought I trained you better than that.”

Mingi immediately de-cocked the gun and brought it behind his back, tucking it away inside the waistline of his tailored pants. “I’m sorry, sir.”

Seonghwa patted Mingi’s shoulder with a gloved hand, giving him a small nod of understanding, before turning his attention to you and Yeonjun, the both of you cautiously standing with your backs against the paneled wall. “I do apologize for my guard dog. We try to keep him on a tight leash, but sometimes…he gets loose.” His shifting eyes formed half crescents. “You understand.”

Yeonjun glanced over at you for guidance, and you responded with a small smile, before nodding your head obediently at Seonghwa’s words, Yeonjun following your lead. “It’s not a problem.”

Seonghwa clasped his hands together, shaking his head slightly, a strand or two of raven hair falling past his forehead from where the rest of it sat perfectly still. He couldn’t seem to understand why he was experiencing a bout of deja vu. “Where are my manners?” He pressed his palm into his chest, and gave a small bow. “I’m Park Seonghwa, the second in command, if you will, here at the Kim Estate.”

Yeonjun bowed back instantly, pushing his dyed hair behind his ears as he stood up straight. “My name’s Yeon. That’s what I go by online.”

Seonghwa’s eyebrows raised up slightly. “Ah, I know you.” He chuckled to himself, glad that he was able to pinpoint the air of familiarity, but still annoyed that something wasn’t quite right. “You’re that hacker that’s going around and fucking with the local government, aren’t you?”

Yeonjun was glad he didn’t eat too much that morning, otherwise he would’ve already thrown it up by now. He brought a peace sign up to his face and smiled. “That’s me, professional shit-stirrer at your service.”

As more men began to trickle into the foyer to see what all the commotion was about, Seonghwa slowly turned his attention back to you, the true object of his frustration. It’s like he had seen you many times before, in a dream, perhaps? In the casino they ran behind closed doors? Or maybe you were one of the many playthings that were brought in to appease the voracious appetites of his degenerate cohorts. Either way, Seonghwa both loved and loathed the way you were already inside his mind, like you had already lived there, and your existence had simply been unearthed by the sands of time.

“And, you are…?” he asked in a slow, calculated manner, his head tilting to the side.

“I’m a diamond expert,” you explained vaguely, motioning to the large suitcase of supplies you were holding. “I can see the value of most things from a mile away, much like your dear leader.”

Hongjoong was already aware of your arrival. You could feel it in your bones.

Seonghwa brought a closed fist to his chin, nodding at your words, still not completely sure why he felt so uncomfortable. “But, who are you?”

Your bubbling amusement was starting to rush to the surface, unable to keep yourself from smiling. And, just like that, you reunited with your dear mentor, except on opposite sides of the chess board. You were delighted everyone was there to witness the beginnings of your awaited rematch. “Why don’t you ask him? I think he’ll have an idea of who I am,” you replied giddily, prompting you to motion your head to the man that stood above the rest of you.

You felt something stir within the men that looked at you, as though what had been hidden for so long had finally come to light. You weren’t a ghost, much to their surprise — well, at least, not yet. You were, of course, taking a gamble with your life, and your partner’s as well, but risks were meant to be taken, rules were meant to be broken, and strings were meant to be cut.

As though right on time, Hongjoong dug his nails into the mahogany railing of the expansive landing, his free hand unconsciously adjusting the bow that was wrapped securely around his neck. He understood the most out of all them. Value. You looked up to him, moving your fingers as though you were using a pair of scissors.

“Remember now?”

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fic taglist: @almightyddeonghwa @hyuckssunflower @joonhasjiminsjams @brotherughh @seonghwaswifereal @londonbridges01 @youcanstayalways @soso59love-blog @hwashua-luv @akunoeyebrows @shakespeare-in-the-park7 @potatomountain @hecateslittlewitchling @svintsandghosts @luffysbeloved @aurorajoye @sanhwalvr @zaynsfl4m3s @metalheadatiny @starboyyoongi @channietherula @affy1106 @neemaxx @apriecotte @chkchkboomm @callmeagardengnome @spenceatiny18 @atzlordz @dimeb29 @mxtzs @Krystalball83 @kejingken @alienvibecheck @star-my @jyoon-ahgatiny @hwasbestlover @itzbecka @hyunmikim @rellzibellzi @starhwas-bunny @life-is-a-game-of-thrones @engentiny @mdurir @Yoonginorout @callmecamis @prettygirlslietoo-blog @yuminhyunn @puzzletequila @flwrshwa @yofavyuki @vcutparis @chelleerss @Kayla-pfarr @hausofwoo (please check your privacy settings if you could not be tagged <3)

#omg hey red haired yeonjun #my girlie has a therapist how messed up did they make her 😭🫶#I WONDER WHO ELSE SHE IS THINKING OF WITH CHOI HMMM #nooo not the hot and cold back and forth :/#loll yeonjun wants to keep the spotlight with his hair #THE DESCRIPTION IN ITALICS HAS ME ON THE FLOOR GIRL I NEED MORE AGHHH OML I LOVE BACKSTORIES I NEED TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENED #HOW DID IT GET TO THIS OMDS #i could feel the insanity and picture the scene like a movie 😫#i’m so proud of yeonjun lmao #GURL I AM SHOOK #when they realise who she is #i will die #everything will go crazy #and does hongjoong already know who she is… or?#but isn’t that crazy how #SHES. FAMILIAR TO THEM LIKE IMA ACTUALLY GO INSANE #i am so excited for the next chapters omds #if this was an actual book i’d buy the whole thing INSTANTLY #like let me preorder the next chapters rn #i have been so deprived of this genre u are feeding me #ateez #hongjoong #seonghwa #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho

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hollowsbest · 6 months ago

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my daughter, 7 months old: mama, I can't chew this (talking about her wooden block)

me: why not?

her: because luna (dog) licked it!

me: she did?!

her: yes. she licked *everything* and now it's all yucky

me: what was Ada (my wife) doing?

her: Ada just sat there and *watched!!*

as I took this somewhat seriously, 🐝 informed me that no, this wasn't true, and she was just trying to be funny 😭

she's already so damn smart making her own lil jokes to make us laugh. hard to believe honestly. she's such a cutiepie

#🐝 tag #baby stories #kitposts #its super annoying none of my parents believe that shes talking and would prefer to believe in the nebulius psychic mother-baby connection #god rheyre fucking stupid #shes got tongue movements down jusr workin on the lips #so Im translating rhose vowel sounds. its hard but worth it. she gets so excited when I understand :3 #also I think I may be genuinely going insane a lil bc I stg I can undersrand my brothers cockatiel better now #I stg I ended up informing him (the bird) of this and I shook him so bad that he yelled WHAT and flew away and has avoided me since lol #bc I was responding to what he was saying while I pet his lil head #ie; pet me. pet you? yeah okay. yes there- slower. slower? okay there u go.#he mostly was going around saying 'say (bird whistle noise we mimic' or 'say whos a pretty boy/bird'#and did straight up respond to me asking him how he was doing with 'very well thank you'#idk. think Im going nuts from sleep deprivation. however if real. very fucking funny #🐝 says she heard him too and that hes really(x5) smart. so. idk. she also says I am a little insane lol. fair.#think beinf able to understand him comes from understanding 🐝 as I imagine the way birds of his caliber mimic human sounds is tongue stuff #like what shes doing. still though. think I freaked him out jfnfnfjf

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ambernim8 · 6 months ago

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My novel project: Follow Me

Genre: NA (new adult)

Tags: Korean drama inspired, romantic comedy, arranged marriage, chaebol (wealthy heir) main love interest, relatable female narrator, swoony Jane Austen-esque romance, complicated family dynamics, social class differences, culture shock, plot twists aplenty...

Main theme: follow your heart <3

Premise: At eleven years old Ahn Soojin is told that she can't have crushes— her future husband is already picked out for her. Single at the age of twenty-three, Soojin has given up on the idea of her mythical fiancé and has taken her fate into her own hands, daring to date in secret behind her aunt and uncle's back. It's a much needed distraction. Ahn Soojin's family orchard in Anacortes, Washington— her last tie to her late father, and the only home she's ever known— has fallen on hard times. Soojin is thrown a lifeline and through a loop when she learns her fiancé of the last twelve years is a real person, extremely wealthy, and looking for her to join him in Seoul. They're getting married in the Spring. On the precipice of losing everything, Soojin finds herself drawn into an arranged marriage, flying halfway across the world to marry a man she's never even met— but she isn't going without a plan. Her fiancé is wealthy and well connected, she can use him to change the future of her family's orchard. What isn't according to plan though, is falling for said fiancé's younger brother. Oops?

Words: (estimate) 80,000

Release date: TBD 2025

Publishing platform: Wattpad

Author's note: first, if you've read this far, hi!! I'm Amber and after writing fan-fiction since I was 10 years old, I am in the process of writing my first novel ever...from scratch! I would love to invite anyone who would like to come along with me on my journey. I don't have a formal creative writing background, but I've cut my writing teeth in some of the most amazing fandoms ever. I have been a fangirl all my life and have consumed all kinds of fantastic media. Instinctively, this has influenced my writing. I am now ready to take things to the next level. With amazing YouTube authors and writing craft books as my guide, I will be creating Follow Me from page 0 and I plan to share every step of the way with you! If you're interested in my novel as a reader, or an aspiring author yourself and curious about my approach and want to learn along side me, please feel free to join in! :)

#writeblr #writing #writers on tumblr #bibliophile #I am so nervous excited #!!!#this post is as organized as I could be at the moment with sorting the overall basics of this novel project #my brain is currently like a shook up snow globe when it comes to this novel: so many ideas/so little organization loool #but it's so fun? I'm really enjoying myself!#please come along and help me keep my sanity :)#novel: follow me

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unintentionalseductress · 10 months ago

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Prescription For Pleasure

Warnings: MDNI, sex, masturbation, medical masturbation, use of vibrators, clit play, piv sex, use of latex gloves, oral (fem receiving), some praise, kinda slow burn A/n: I am not normal about this man in any way. Not really proofread. Please do not use my banners without permission.

You’re seated in Zayne’s office, trying not to squirm as he sets up your appointment. Although this was now the third time you were seeing him for this regular inspection, it didn’t alleviate your nerves the slightest. Each month, according to the Hunter’s Association regulations, every hunter needed to be seen by their primary care physician for 3 consecutive days for their health.

And although the association deemed it a necessity, it was an embarrassing requirement according to you. The Hunter’s Association had done a survey and discovered that many of their employees suffered from high levels of stress because they were isolated and lacked much-needed human contact. To combat this, they made it mandatory to get physical contact by a medical professional every month.

But when all the fancy jargon was pushed aside, all the hunters called it the same thing - medical masturbation. It had become wildly popular amongst both men and women hunters, eagerly marking the days on their calendar for when they could come in. When you heard about the rule, you wished the earth would open up and swallow you whole. You had tried talking to Jenna to insist that you were indeed taking care of yourself in that aspect, thanks to your trusted vibrator, but she had shaken her head no.

“We need documentation. I’m subject to it, and so is everyone else in my order.” Defeated, you’d walked out of Jenna’s office before remembering another mortifying fact with a jolt. Your primary care physician was Zayne.

Your childhood friend, your trusted cardiologist, stoic and calm, who remained reserved during your general checkups, was going to be your medical masturbator. You had almost turned yourself into a ball on the floor, tweaked out at the insanity of it all. Although Zayne was your general physician, you had a separate gynecologist, and apart from asking if you’d had your annual PAP smear, Zayne had left that part of your anatomy unquestioned. It didn’t help that you were attracted to him, and sure, if he’d asked you out on a date, you would have been more than happy to let him inspect you all he wanted down there.

But this clinical setting, enforced by your organization was a little too much to bear. Wondering how to tackle this situation, you wander over to Tara who was humming as she made her medical bookings on her phone app. “Isn’t this exciting?” she squeals as she sees you. “God knows the dating pool is thin right now. This is just what I needed!”

Tara’s primary care physician was a woman, and you wondered if that was a pro or a con. On the one hand, dropping your panties for a woman doctor seemed less unnerving than for a man. But if you had a preference for men, would it work against your arousal? You shook your head at your ridiculous musings and focused on talking to Tara. “Are you really that excited about this?”

“You have no idea!” Tara taps her feet as she talks to you.

“And you’re ok about having a woman stimulate you?” You probe, trying to gauge Tara’s reaction. Tara giggles and lightly pats your shoulder.

“I don’t know but the idea is kind of hot. I mean, getting it on in a doctor’s office? Besides if I don’t like it, I can change the doctor the next time.”

Her words hit you like a ton of bricks. “You can change your doctor?”

“For this yes, the app gives you an option since it involves showing off a lot of intimate areas. You have to be able to trust your doctor right?”

You logged into the app, finding the little button to request a change in doctors, but for some reason, the page kept refreshing and crashing. With a sigh, you decide to get the worst of it over with and call Zayne, hoping he can make the change for you on his end. His voice is cool and professional when he answers your call.

“Yes?”

“So, you must have heard about…the new regulation?” you had put forth nervously.

“I am aware of it, yes.”

“Well, for obvious reasons, I would like a different doctor.”

Zayne smoothly says, “Of course. Patient comfort is always first. Do you have a doctor in mind?”

“Maybe my gynecologist? I tried doing it in the app but it keeps crashing.” There’s a moment of silence and you can hear Zayne’s fingers tapping away at his keyboard before a low hum leaves his end of the line.

“There appears to be a problem.”

“Problem?” you’d parrotted back.

“Yes. Because so many people are booking appointments at the same time, most of the available doctors are already taken. Including your gynecologist.”

It felt like watching a bird crashing into a window in slow motion, that brief moment of hope that it wouldn’t hit the glass shattering in an instant. “Oh.”

There’s a pause before Zayne delicately says, “I’m sorry but it looks like you will have to make those appointments with me for this month. 3 of them according to the regulation. Hopefully, you can make the change for next month.” His voice sounded slightly apologetic.

“Won’t it be weird given that we know each other personally?” The question had fallen from your lips before you could stop yourself.

“I promise not to treat you any differently than any of my other patients who are coming in for this inspection. I understand this may be a little unexpected, but I assure you I did a term of gynecology during my internship.”

A tinge of mirth carried over in his voice and you can’t help but make a noise of embarrassment. “Zayne, please!” His laugh was dry but not unkind, and you can’t help but want to hide your face even though he couldn’t see you.

“Don’t worry too much. But I do advise you to make the appointments soon. My schedule is filling up rapidly.”

With those words, he’d disconnected the call and you were left wondering if an unknown god from another planet had cursed your existence.

And changing doctors had proven to be more difficult than you’d thought. The entire organization seemed to be having a single thought. They had made appointments in the app almost halfway into the year, essentially blocking you from being able to do anything about your situation. Now on your third month with Zayne, you watch as he checks his notes from your last session, feeling like you want to scamper from the room.

The last two sessions had been incredibly stimulating, your arousal heightened by the fact you were attracted to Zayne. You’d never considered having someone watch as you touched yourself but found that you’d enjoyed it, at least, when it was him. He had remained professional, but you’d avoided him these last two months, save for when you had to get your monthly cardiac profile. He reads his notes from his computer as he prepares for your session.

“Preferred device for stimulation still a vibrator, with a large, rounded, flexible head?” His eyes remain on his screen and you’re grateful for him giving you this smidgen of privacy.

“Yes.”

“Preference for the doggystyle position still?”

Your face burns. “Yes.”

“Still consenting for verbal stimulation?”

You nod your head.

“And still consenting for internal vaginal stimulation?” You make a noise of consent, squeezing your thighs together, your panties uncomfortably chafing against your already swollen pussy.

“All right, I have everything I need.” He logs off and removes his lab coat, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, revealing his well-corded arms, and your mouth almost waters at the sight of them. Clearing your throat, you shyly reach into your bag and pull out the vibrator in question, which he takes from you and clamps into a stand, adjusting it over the examination table you’d be on. A bottle of lube awaits on the tray next to the table and you swallow as he finishes the setup.

“Whenever you’re ready,” he says in that deep voice, and feeling like your fingers are wrapped in thick woolen mittens, you reach behind you to untie the hospital gown you’re wearing, and it falls to the floor with a swoosh, your nipples pebbling under the sudden chill. A small set of sensors were taped to your chest and on the sides of your forehead, essential medical devices to ensure your orgasm was satisfactory. Unperturbed, Zayne gestures to the table and you make your way onto it, letting your feet settle in the stirrups as he settles on a stool between your legs, pulling on latex gloves before gently spreading your folds apart. You stare up at the ceiling as he does his initial checkup.

“Labia look healthy, no signs of trauma or abnormal discharge,” he murmurs, then runs a finger down the edge of the fold that separates your inner and outer lips, causing your core to clench involuntarily. You hold still, knowing very well he saw the action, holding your breath, letting out a little sigh as he lets go.

“Normal reaction to stimuli, already semi-aroused,” he says, trashing the gloves and making another note on his computer. He glances over at you, leaning back uncertainly on the table. “You may begin.”

You swallow, then carefully turn onto your hands and knees, crawling towards the head of the table, grabbing the bottle of lube and squeezing the viscous liquid onto the head of the vibrator, avoiding eye contact as your breasts sway under the motion, nipples painfully hard from anticipation. You could feel Zayne’s gaze but can’t bring yourself to look up. Even though this was the third time, it hadn’t gotten easier, stripping naked and pleasuring yourself in his office.

Once the rounded head of the vibrator is slick, you turn, the chill of the lube against your heated membranes causing more blood to flow into your already engorged nub, and run your moist slit across the surface to spread the liquid onto your slickened folds. Your hand fumbles for the little remote control and with a buzz, the vibrator turns on at the lowest setting. You click the button a few more times until it gets to the speed you liked, then fail to hold back a moan as the sensations pleasurably begin to take hold in your clit.

The first time you had done this, nervousness had made you set the vibrator on the highest possible setting hoping to get a quick orgasm and sprint out of the office. Unfortunately, the sensors relayed this information into Zayne’s medical record that your climax had been unsatisfactory, and you had endured being lectured by him with the medical gown loosely draped on your body, your rear open to the cold office air.

His tone wasn’t unkind but it hadn’t helped you feel better either. “It helps neither of us if you rush this. The whole purpose of this examination is to ensure you’re relaxing. I know it’s embarrassing but if you fail to have a proper orgasm, I’ll have to make you repeat the process until I get data that says otherwise.”

“The sensors are-”

“The only way to measure anything. Without involving another person anyway.”

His words had left you gobsmacked and your retort had died in your mouth. After that incident, you had learned. Even with the chagrin of having him watch you, you had learned to take your time and let the feelings build, leading to incredibly savory climaxes that made your body squirm from the aftershocks.

Your hips sway, setting up a rhythm to brush your sensitive slit onto the head, letting it vibrate from cunt to clit, the lube aiding the frictionless sliding and making your core drip. Quiet noises of pleasure leave your throat as help yourself, arching your back and changing the curvature of your ass to maximize the sensations, then when the perfect pattern emerges, you let out a keening sigh, and try to remain still, letting the vibrator work its magic.

Zayne, who has been quietly observing the computer this entire time, observing the spikes relayed from the sensors, asks, “Have you found your optimal pleasure form?”

“Yes,” you gasp, the timbre of his voice sending an arrow of lust into the deepest parts of your clenching core. You knew what was about to come next. The sound of Zayne’s desk chair moving, followed by the snap of latex gloves as he pulled a fresh pair onto those beautiful hands. He approaches the examination table and takes the bottle of lube you had set aside earlier, a wet squelching noise issuing from it as he squeezes it over his gloved hand, gathering the fluid on his index and middle fingers. He leans over to whisper in your ears; the verbal stimulation has begun.

The humiliating reveal that you had a heavy praise kink had come up during your initial session and despite your insistence that it wasn’t necessary, Zayne, the ever-diligent worker, had made a note in your profile, and he’d been fulfilling it each time. A tickle of hot breath near your ear, before he murmurs, “Are you enjoying yourself?”

The hum of the vibrator in the background coupled with his voice makes your breath catch in your throat. You nod, knowing you didn’t have it in you to form coherent words.

“That’s a good patient. Good patients listen to their doctors you know. And you’re doing a wonderful job.”

Your hips snap back to push your clit against the rubber pad, letting out a whimper of pleasure, the action pushing your ass up higher, revealing your pathetically drooling cunt, fluttering with the dissatisfaction of being unfilled.

“Are you ready?” He waits for your consent and you manage a husky, ‘mm hm’.

“Good girl. Take a breath.”

You inhale, trying to relax, then let out an uninhibited moan as Dr. Zayne inserts his middle finger into your needy cunt, the ring of muscles offering no resistance to the probing digit. He gently thrusts a few times, before curling the tip of his finger up into the delicate patch of nerves on your upper wall, the smooth come hither motion awakening a new level of pleasure in your body. Your fingers tighten on the edges of the table, sobbing, trying not to scream at the feelings that threatened to explode from you. He keeps up the gentle assault before asking, “Are you ready for another one?”

“Yes…” your voice comes out shakily, knowing you desired more than just his fingers, but that you would never get to experience it.

“Perfect. So well behaved, taking exactly what I give you.” Zayne’s sensual voice floods your ear before his index pushes into you, the thickness of both his fingers sending you into overdrive. Your walls clench welcomingly around him, inciting an exciting pull of liquid heat in your abdomen, the muscles tensing in anticipation for the exquisite release you knew was about to occur.

Feeling your inhibitions abandon you as you are stroked closer to orgasm your self-control slips and his name falls from your lips as he pushes over the edge.

“Zayne…” some partially functioning confine in the back of your brain registers what you had just involuntarily purred, but the spasms rocking your core, those gratifying waves of delight flooding your body made it easier to ignore it as your being is reduced to a pliant mess of pleasure. His fingers ease up as the fluttering in your pussy calms down, your clit pulsating weakly as the final vestiges of pleasure are wrung from your body.

With a wet noise, his fingers leave your moist hole, the glove coated with your juices and the lubricant. Awareness finally comes crashing around you as you realize what you had uttered in the throes of passion.

“I…I didn’t…I wasn’t in control…” You try to find a way to explain, to let him know you had very little choice in the matter of sobbing his name as you orgasmed, but everything feels flat, almost on the fine line between explaining and insulting.

“There’s no need.” Almost as if he’s read your mind, Zayne matter-of-factly redirects the conversation. “It’s not uncommon to blurt out things during climax. Some people swear, and others call out names. It was a very normal reaction considering I was the one in the room with you.”

He throws the gloves in the trash and goes to check the computer, to ensure the sensors had given him the information he needed before starting the second round of the appointment.

“Oh.” You say quietly as he sits at his desk, feeling dejected. Although relieved he wasn’t making a big deal out of it, you can’t help but feel disappointed with his reaction. Shouldn’t a man be flattered when a woman cried out his name when she came? Maybe he really was treating you strictly as a patient. And here you were, pussy exposed and spread after being probed by his dextrous fingers, mooning over him like a high school girl. Perhaps the limit of your relationship with him was in fact, doctor and patient, the childhood friends aspect fading.

So there was no romance here at all. You had a crush on him, and he was doing his job. Reality sucks. You sniff and suddenly feel cheap, and get out of the doggystyle position and try to find the hospital gown to preserve some of your modesty. Zayne glances over at your sudden movements.

“Are you cold? I can get you a blanket.”

“I’m fine.” You try to sound normal.

“Your records show that you usually rest about 10 minutes before you are ready for the next round. Do you feel like that will be the case this time too?”

You find the gown and drag it up to your chin, covering your body as you lay back on the table. “Yeah. Actually a little sooner today maybe. I have somewhere to be.”

“You can’t rush these things. Your body will cum when it wants to. A forced orgasm doesn’t promote anything beneficial.”

“Well can we find a way for this to happen quickly and in compliance with the sensors?” You’re trying not to let your frustration show, the pleasantness of your orgasm fading. “I don’t think I have the patience to do two more rounds.”

Zayne listens to you impassively, but those amber eyes flecked with green had an underlying intensity you couldn’t place. “You don’t have the patience to do two more rounds?” He gets up and comes over to you. “You want to just leave then?” He approaches the edge of the table and there’s tension in his jaw. Perplexed, you look at him, his reaction unexpected.

“No, I’m sorry, I know I can’t leave because of compliance and all that.”

“Compliance,” Zayne mutters under his breath before grasping your chin and forcing you to look at him, a gasp leaving your throat.

“You’re getting frustrated because you have to do this a few times every month while being supervised? Do you have any idea what I have to do before you come in for these sessions?” His voice is a growl and you clam up, shocked by this aggressive display of expression from him.

“Every month I have to remain professional as you come in, pleasure yourself, and then leave. I have to endure seeing your beautiful body bare in front of me and control all my impulses to touch you, to not overstep my limitations as your doctor. I pleasure myself remembering the noises you make and ensure I’m well spent before coming in to do your appointments. You sit there, acting like it’s hard for you, but do you have any idea what you do to me?”

One of his knees is on the table, and he’s looming over you making you feel like a tiny animal caught in his fury. “It’s torture, to watch you. You’re not like the other patients I see. You never have been. Because with you, I always feel like I’m on the verge of losing control. Do you know how difficult it is to not do things to you that aren’t specified on your medical record? To have my fingers so intimately inside you, feel every little drop of pleasure clenching around my fingers, knowing at the end I can’t have you to myself? To hear you call my name and know that you only see me as your doctor?”

Your face is a bright shade of red but you can’t look away from his face. His teeth are gritted, and when you dare to glance down, you see the noticeable bulge that has formed between his legs. He follows your glance and clicks his tongue, letting go of your chin.

“I know I crossed a boundary today. It’s all right. You can go. I’ll reschedule you with another doctor. I know you didn’t want me in the first place.”

Your mind is a blur as you quickly reach out to grab his hand, your heart hammering wildly in your chest. His admission was like a prayer answered, and you weren’t going to meek about this. His breath hitches as he feels you pulling at his hand and gives you a look of uncertainty. Your lips part but the words you want to say refuse to come out.

“Damn it,” he whispers ferally before his mouth captures yours in a rough kiss. It was wild and demanding, a contrast to the reserved, patient man he usually was. You’re swept up in the feeling of his mouth on yours, the taste of his tongue, and the softness of his lips. When you break apart, his hand cups your cheek, his eyes searching your face.

“This isn’t just because of the session right?” He asks keenly and you realize what he’s asking you. He’d been aching for you before this whole stupid policy came into place. The same way you’d been longing for him.

“No, it’s not. I had a crush on you back when you became my doctor to check on my heart condition.” A sigh of relief leaves him before he tenderly presses his forehead to yours, and you’re caught up in the sweetness of the moment.

“I just had to be sure.”

Boldly, you raise your head, delighted when he meets you, pulled back into his kiss, your tongues sliding over each other, your fingers tangling into his hair, scratching the nape of his neck, pulling him closer to you.

You gasp as he breaks the kiss to drag his tongue down the column of your throat, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses to the heated flesh, your blood humming in your veins as your eyes flutter closed. He pulls away the gown and pulls your perked nipple into his mouth, and you revel in the jolt of pleasure it brings you, each suckle felt in your clit which had already swollen up again in need. His fingers capture your other nipple, softly tweaking and pulling it and drawing little whines of desire from your throat.

Your hand finds the junction between his legs and cups the heavy bulge, drawing a groan from him, palming him through his slacks, feeling it grow and tent the fabric under your ministrations. A low guttural sound leaves him and he gets off the table, and you almost protest until you see him dragging the small wheeled stool from earlier towards the table. He settles down on it, looping his arms around the tops of your thighs and pulling you closer to the table's edge until your feet find the stirrups again.

“Stay open for me darling,” he instructs, his eyes glittering and you shiver as you feel his breath against your swollen folds. You squeak as he pushes your folds apart with his nose, inhaling your scent, his eyes growing dark with lust. “You smell delicious. I always wondered. Had to stop myself from sniffing my gloves after you climaxed. Not professional you know.”

The musky tang of your pussy fills his senses, and his tongue darts out and dips into your slit, finding the swollen bud and licking it with just the right pressure that makes your toes curl and stars pop into your vision.

Your hand rests on his head, tugging his beautiful dark locks, his name falling from your lips without barriers. Your hips rock against him, moaning, then let a sob as his lips suction around your clit. His fingers, free from the gloves at last, probe your entrance, scissoring inside to prepare you for what was to come before they curl up into that gummy patch that he knew too well.

The sensations flood you, and the sheer knowledge of knowing you had Zayne touching you this way, unbound by the usual rules was sending you into a frenzy. Incoherent noises leave your mouth, crying out hotly as he teases the orgasm from you, your body shivering from the intensity.

He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand and takes in your appearance, so soft and satisfied on his table, a dreamy look in your eyes.

“Are you prepared for the after?” he asks, you nod, more than eager to experience him. A sly smile crosses his face before he reaches over into the little chest of drawers by the table and pulls out a condom.

“Hospitals have free condoms. It would be impractical to not use one when it’s on hand.” He explains seeing your questioning look and stands to undo his pants. You watch curiously as his cock is finally freed, eyes widening as it faces you, so impressive and veiny, standing proudly with a slight curve in its length. His pubes were neatly trimmed at the base, ebony curls visible behind the shaft. As he starts to roll on the condom, you feel your whole body heating up in anticipation.

He leans down to kiss you before taking your feet and resting them on his shoulders, his cock at the perfect angle to enter you. As he sinks into your welcoming heat, you let out a sigh of longing, feeling the delicious stretch of muscle as he pushes up inside you, gasping as you feel his full length sheathe itself. As he bottoms out, his eyes close in bliss, hardly daring to believe that after all this time, he is finally getting to fulfill this private dream.

Each stroke has him brushing against your gspot and kissing your cervix as he paces himself, feeling the primal urge to take you roughly and selfishly calling at his self-control. A growl leaves his throat as you whimper, straining towards him as the both of you struggle to keep a grip on reality. He feels the seductive way your walls clench around him, hears the soft noises you make, sees your face contort in pleasure with every roll of his hips.

“Oh you feel so good,” he pants hotly, glasses askew, almost at the tip of his nose as he thrusts. “Clenching me so needily. Gonna milk me dry.”

Your response is a shuddering whimper, your back arching greedily to feel all of him, creating the perfect curvature to brush your clit against the base of his erection with each push of his hips. He feels the little bud on his heated skin, your combined fluids dripping onto his shaft, slickening the bundle of nerves with each stroke.

“Be a good girl and cum on my cock the way you do on my fingers.” Zayne’s voice is husky as he tries to hold on, damned if he came before you. “I know you want to. I can feel the way your walls are spasming. They always do this pattern before you orgasm.”

The fact that he had memorized this knowledge of you was too much and you let go, your voice filling the room as you climax. Zayne’s hips stutter as he feels you around his length, pussy fluttering so him. His pace quickens, the sound of slapping skin becoming more and more urgent, his balls hitting your ass each time as he chases his orgasm.

A shiver passes through his body as it happens and he buries himself in your warmth. You hum in satisfaction as you feel his cock twitch and pulse inside you as he spills his load. He pants, sweat on his forehead as he bends down to kiss you again, carefully lowering your legs which burn from the stretch as they settle on the stirrups.

Threading your fingers through his hair, you brush your noses together, smiling shyly at him as he smirks, his eyes closing as he catches his breath.

“Can I see you outside of my office sometime?” he asks and you laugh at the invitation.

“Are you asking me out on a date after having sex just once?” you tease as he grips the base of the condom and slides out, your pussy feeling the loss keenly.

“I have been wanting to for a while. I was just wondering if I was misreading the signals. But I think I have a solid answer now.” He helps you sit up and cradles your body against his, idly stroking your skin, before gently removing the sensors off your body.

“Let’s get dressed,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead after a moment of cozy silence, and the both of you hunt down your clothes. As he fixes his tie, Zayne passes by his computer and lets out an amused huff.

“Something funny?” you ask as you button your blouse.

“The sensors definitely gave enough information to make anyone’s head spin.” You walk over and snort as you see the window, full of sharp spikes.

“Well, at least I am guaranteed you had a good time.” Zayne’s eyes sparkle mischievously as he pulls you in for another kiss.

“I’m not changing my doctor,” you reassure him as you pull away. There’s amusement in his gaze when he replies.

“Oh, definitely not. I think if the Hunter’s Association ever sees this record, they’ll heavily advise you to remain with the same healthcare professional.”

13K notes · View notes

mcrdvcks · 2 months ago

Text

— it's brutal out here

chapter summary: Peter's class is going on a field trip to Stark Industries. The catch? No one believes he's an intern at SI and no one knows he's dating Tony Stark's daughter—other than Ned and MJ. Surely nothing will go wrong, right? word count: 14.7k+ pairing: Peter Parker (MCU) x fem!stark!reader notes: i've said it before, peter parker goes on field trip to SI is one of my favorite tropes ever. but what else is? reader being tony stark's daughter and dating peter. so i thought i'd combine both for the ultimate self-service. it's my first time writing for peter, so feedback is appreciated. enjoy! <3 warnings/tags: avengers are a happy family because i say so (includes bucky!), fluff, peter parker goes on a field trip to stark industries, tony is your biological dad, pranks, slight bullying, reader is a genius (she's a stark after all)

“Alright, before the bell rings I have something important to say!” Mr. Harrington announced, stopping most of the students from packing up.

“I swear, if it’s another—” Peter mumbled before Ned cut in.

“Dude, what if it’s a parental consent form for a movie? Or an experiment? Or—”

"—Or it's just Harrington being overdramatic. Again," MJ added in dryly, not looking away from her book.

Peter snorted softly, shaking his head. "Yeah, you're probably right."

Mr. Harrington cleared his throat dramatically again, pushing his glasses back up his nose as he lifted a stack of papers from his desk. "We will be taking a field trip next week, and it's not just any field trip."

"Oh no," MJ deadpanned, flipping another page of her book, "his voice cracked. That means it's big."

Peter chuckled quietly, looking at Ned with an amused smirk. "Ten bucks it's another 'groundbreaking' planetarium exhibit."

Ned shook his head quickly, grinning. "I'm holding out for something good this time, man."

Mr. Harrington began passing out the papers excitedly. "Next Friday, this class will be touring none other than Stark Industries!"

The room erupted in surprised chatter, excited whispers filling every corner.

Peter froze, eyes wide. "Wait—what?"

Ned's mouth fell open, equally shocked. "No freaking way!"

MJ lifted her gaze from the page for the first time, eyebrows raised as she leaned slightly toward Peter. "I take it back. This actually is big."

"Not again," Peter muttered anxiously, voice strained. "The tower? Seriously?"

"What's the problem, Pete?" Flash's voice rang out smugly from across the room. "Afraid they'll realize you're not actually an intern?"

Peter frowned, shooting Flash a glare. "I am an intern. I've been telling you guys this for literally two years."

Flash scoffed loudly. "Yeah, sure, Parker. And I'm Thor's favorite chess partner."

"Dude," Ned whispered urgently, "this means the whole class is gonna see you with—"

Peter nodded nervously, his voice hushed. "—Y/N. They're going to see me with Y/N."

MJ leaned in slightly, giving Peter a knowing look. "You're worried they'll find out you're dating Tony Stark's daughter?"

Peter's cheeks flushed pink. "I'm not worried, I just... it's gonna be weird."

"You've literally fought aliens, and you're worried about your classmates finding out you have a girlfriend?" MJ remarked flatly.

"It's not just any girlfriend!" Ned argued, waving his hands excitedly, "It's Y/N freaking Stark, MJ! The Y/N Stark!"

MJ rolled her eyes slightly, suppressing a smile as she glanced back at Peter. "So what, you two just gonna pretend you don't know each other?"

Peter hesitated, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "I... haven't exactly figured that out yet."

Across the room, Flash continued loudly boasting, "Maybe I'll even get to talk with Tony Stark himself. I've got some great ideas I wanna pitch him."

"Oh, yeah, great," Peter mumbled under his breath sarcastically, "that'll go well."

Mr. Harrington clapped his hands to regain everyone's attention. "Make sure you have these permission slips signed and returned by tomorrow. This is a rare and exciting opportunity, people!"

Peter slumped slightly in his seat, sighing heavily as Ned gave him a reassuring pat on the back.

"Relax, man," Ned said confidently. "It's gonna be fine."

MJ shrugged, eyes back on her book. "Or it'll be an entertaining disaster. Either way, I'm looking forward to it."

"Gee, thanks," Peter muttered, giving MJ a pointed look.

She simply smirked without looking up. "Anytime."

Peter stared down at the permission slip in front of him, anxiety swirling through his chest. Next Friday was going to be interesting, to say the least.

---

“—but, there was always… Y/N? Hey. Hey!” Steve snapped his fingers as you slowly looked up.

"Huh? Sorry, I fell asleep to your boring recollection of the battle of… whatever," you said, leaning back in your chair dramatically with a loud yawn.

Steve crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow as he stared at you. "Y/N, we've literally been covering World War II for months. It's the battle of Normandy."

"Oh, right." You sat up again, blinking sleepily at him. "You know, Steve, when Dad said you'd be teaching me history, I figured we'd cover a little more than just your glory days."

Bucky snorted from his spot on the couch, not even bothering to hide his grin. "See, Steve? Told you even your own niece would get tired of hearing your stories eventually."

Steve shot Bucky an annoyed look. "Not helping, Buck."

You laughed lightly, swiveling your chair toward Bucky. "Honestly, Barnes, your lessons are more interesting. At least when you teach, I get to hear the real stories, not the G-rated, Captain America-approved versions."

Bucky smirked proudly, leaning back comfortably. "That's because I tell you all the gritty details your dad specifically said you shouldn’t hear."

Steve sighed heavily, shaking his head. "You're both impossible."

"And yet," you shrugged innocently, reaching for your phone on the desk, "you still insist on teaching me."

"Because," Steve began firmly, taking a step forward and pointing toward your textbook, "you still need to actually learn this stuff."

Bucky chuckled softly. "Yeah, kiddo, just pretend to pay attention for a couple hours so Steve doesn’t cry himself to sleep tonight."

You bit back a smile, dramatically nodding at Steve. "Alright, alright. Battle of Normandy, June 1944. Got it. Continue, Uncle Steve."

Steve narrowed his eyes suspiciously at you, slowly returning to his spot by the whiteboard. "Right. So as I was saying—"

Your phone buzzed suddenly, and your attention immediately snapped down to it. Peter’s name lit up your screen, making your heart flutter as you quickly picked it up.

"Hold that thought, Steve," you said distractedly, swiping open the message.

Steve paused, arms crossed again with an exasperated sigh. "You're texting Peter again, aren’t you?"

You gave him a guilty smile, fingers flying rapidly over your screen. "Sorry, but it's important."

Bucky raised an eyebrow curiously, leaning toward you. "What's got Parker worked up this time?"

You bit your lip, chuckling softly as you finished your reply. "Apparently, his class is taking a field trip to Stark Industries next week."

Bucky laughed, leaning further forward. "Oh boy, Pete must be freaking out."

"He absolutely is," you confirmed, still texting quickly. "He's worried everyone will figure out we're dating. And, you know, that he's actually an intern there."

Steve looked thoughtful. "Peter's classmates still don't believe him?"

"Nope," you shook your head, grinning slightly. "They all think he's making it up."

Bucky chuckled again. "Poor kid."

Steve tilted his head curiously. "What’s the plan, then? Are you two just going to ignore each other?"

You sighed, setting your phone back down on the desk as you looked at Steve seriously. "Honestly? I have no idea. Peter’s a little nervous."

Bucky gave you a playful smirk. "Well, it's about time the kid stepped up. I mean, he's Spider-Man, he can handle a few high school kids."

Steve nodded in agreement. "Buck's right. Peter’s faced much worse. A field trip can't be that scary."

You smiled slightly, glancing back down at your phone as Peter's next text popped up. "You'd be surprised."

Bucky leaned back again, smirking knowingly. "You’re both being way too dramatic. I say just act normal. Who cares if people find out? You've been dating for a year."

"That's what MJ said," you replied thoughtfully. "Maybe I should just show up and embarrass him."

Steve chuckled softly, shaking his head. "That's your father's influence talking."

You flashed a grin, leaning forward eagerly. "Speaking of Dad—"

"Nope," Steve interrupted quickly, pointing at the textbook. "Lesson first, gossip later."

You groaned dramatically, slumping back again. "Fine."

Steve turned back toward the whiteboard again, writing quickly as he resumed. "Alright, moving on. Now, the invasion began in the early hours—"

"Wait!" you suddenly interrupted, lifting your hand in the air.

Steve turned back again, eyes narrowed. "What now?"

You smiled sweetly, fluttering your lashes playfully. "Can I bring Peter lunch when his class comes next Friday? Like, surprise him?"

Bucky nodded approvingly, clearly entertained by the idea. "I think that's an excellent plan."

Steve gave you both a stern look, though you could see amusement hiding behind his eyes. "That's something you should ask your mom or dad."

You pouted dramatically. "But you're my favorite uncle, Steve."

"Hey!" Bucky protested loudly, placing a hand over his heart with mock hurt. "I thought I was your favorite uncle!"

Steve chuckled, crossing his arms. "Nice try, Y/N, but I'm still not falling for it."

You grinned cheekily, shrugging your shoulders lightly. "Worth a shot."

Bucky smirked, giving you an amused nod. "I'll talk to your dad for you. I'm always up for helping embarrass the kid."

You beamed at him. "I knew you were my favorite."

Steve groaned quietly, shaking his head again. "Alright, enough distractions. Back to Normandy."

You sighed dramatically again, leaning your chin on your palm with a small smile. "Alright, Uncle Steve. Back to Normandy."

Bucky chuckled, giving Steve a playful smirk. "Better make this interesting, pal, or else she's definitely texting Parker again."

Steve rolled his eyes, finally giving up and laughing softly. "You two are going to be the death of me."

You smiled innocently, eyes sparkling with amusement. "We know. But you still love us anyway."

Steve smiled softly, his voice warm as he nodded slowly. "Yeah, I suppose I do."

---

"Uncle Bruce? Have I ever told you that you're my favorite teacher?" you asked sweetly, giving him your most convincing smile as you leaned eagerly across the lab table.

Bruce raised an eyebrow, his glasses sliding down his nose as he peered skeptically over them. "Ah, yes, Y/N. I believe you mentioned that just last week when you wanted help avoiding Steve's history lesson."

You laughed softly, shrugging innocently. "Well, this time I really, really mean it."

Bruce chuckled, shaking his head lightly as he placed down the tablet he'd been holding. "Alright, what's going on?"

You sighed dramatically, propping your chin in your palm. "Peter's class is coming here next Friday for a field trip."

Bruce looked thoughtful, nodding slowly. "Ah, that's right. Tony mentioned something about that."

You perked up immediately, sitting straighter. "Dad talked about it?"

"Well, mostly just to warn everyone," Bruce said with an amused smile, taking a seat across from you. "Something about trying not to embarrass Peter too much."

You groaned, dropping your head onto your folded arms. "Ugh, I know! He keeps saying we should just act normal, but—"

Bruce tilted his head curiously, smiling warmly. "But you're worried about embarrassing him?"

"Or maybe myself," you admitted sheepishly, peeking up at Bruce through your fingers. "I don't know. The whole class will be here, and they don't even believe Peter actually interns here. Let alone that we're dating."

Bruce chuckled softly, leaning back in his chair comfortably. "Teenagers can be brutal, huh?"

“Exactly!” You agreed. “Uh, wait, actually I don’t know. The only experience I have is Peter telling me about classes and Mean Girls. Do girls really make Burn Books?”

Bruce chuckled, shaking his head lightly. "I think that's more Hollywood drama than reality, Y/N. At least, I hope so."

You sat up a little straighter, eyes wide with genuine curiosity. "See, that's exactly why I'm worried! I'm totally clueless about how high school works outside of movie clichés and Peter's crazy stories."

Bruce gave you a reassuring smile. "You’re smart, Y/N. I'm sure you'll navigate it just fine. Plus, you've got Peter. He's probably more nervous than you are."

You sighed dramatically, sinking down slightly in your seat. "Yeah, he's pretty worried. I keep telling him it'll be fine, but deep down, I'm just as nervous."

Bruce tilted his head thoughtfully. "Why don't you just be yourself? Your relationship with Peter isn't a secret among the Avengers. You've got nothing to hide."

"But it's different," you argued, fiddling nervously with a pen on the table. "I mean, it's one thing for the team to know. But an entire class of high schoolers? That’s scary."

Bruce chuckled softly, adjusting his glasses again. "Trust me, most of them will probably be too busy being star-struck by Stark Industries to notice much else."

You gave a half-smile, eyes flicking up to meet Bruce’s. "You really think so?"

He nodded reassuringly. "Absolutely. Teenagers aren’t all that complicated—most of them are too wrapped up in their own worlds to pay close attention."

You exhaled softly, leaning back with a little more ease. "I guess you're right."

Bruce smiled warmly. "Of course I am."

You smiled sheepishly, biting your lip in thought before glancing up again. "Do you think it’d be weird if I just... showed up? You know, say hi, maybe give Peter lunch, see how he’s doing?"

Bruce grinned knowingly, leaning forward slightly with amusement in his eyes. "I think that sounds very sweet. Peter would appreciate it, even if he’s embarrassed at first."

You laughed lightly, your face brightening with relief. "Yeah, well, a little embarrassment never killed anyone, right?"

Bruce chuckled again, shaking his head. "Definitely not. And, frankly, you might actually enjoy it."

You smirked mischievously. "Maybe just a little."

He leaned back again, crossing his arms over his chest comfortably. "Just be prepared for some teasing from Tony afterward."

You groaned playfully, rolling your eyes dramatically. "Ugh, Dad's already been dropping hints. Like, ‘don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.’ Which isn't comforting at all, considering it's Dad."

Bruce laughed, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, I think Tony’s probably the worst person to go to for dating advice."

"Tell me about it," you muttered dryly, smiling fondly. "Mom tried to give him a crash course on subtlety the other day. It went about as well as you'd expect."

Bruce grinned warmly. "Your mom is a saint for even trying."

You chuckled, nodding enthusiastically. "I know, right?"

Bruce paused thoughtfully, giving you a gentle look. "Seriously, Y/N, don't overthink it. Peter cares about you. His classmates might be surprised at first, but they'll get used to it quickly. Trust your instincts."

Your smile softened, comforted by his sincerity. "Thanks, Uncle Bruce. I needed to hear that."

He smiled back softly. "Anytime. Now, do you still want to help me with these calculations or are you too busy plotting your field trip takeover?"

You laughed, rolling your eyes slightly. "I think I've done enough plotting for one day."

Bruce chuckled warmly, pushing the tablet toward you gently. "Alright then. Let's get back to work."

You nodded eagerly, reaching for the tablet with newfound confidence. "Right. Work first, world domination later."

Bruce grinned playfully, shaking his head. "You've definitely spent way too much time around your father."

You smirked mischievously, eyes sparkling. "Guilty as charged."

He sighed in mock despair, though his eyes shone with affection. "The world isn't ready for two Stark geniuses."

"Probably not," you replied with a dramatic sigh, then flashed a bright smile. "But that's their problem."

Bruce laughed heartily, pushing his glasses back up his nose again. "Yeah, it definitely is."

You smiled warmly, picking up your stylus and focusing back on the calculations. Bruce was right, after all—you had Peter, and you knew that was what really mattered.

---

During lunch, you sat in the common kitchen eating a sandwich. Your phone was propped up against your water bottle as you pretended to watch it while in reality, it was filming.

You had set up a prank in your head while Steve went on about whatever battle he was talking about, and while making lunch, you put your idea into action. Now, you just had to wait for Sam and Clint to get back from going over the training room schedules.

A few minutes later, you heard familiar footsteps and quickly sat up straighter, looking innocent as you pretended to watch your phone. Sam and Clint walked into the kitchen, mid-conversation.

"All I'm sayin' is, why do you get first dibs on Wednesdays?" Clint complained, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge. "Maybe I like to train mid-week too."

Sam raised an eyebrow at Clint as he opened the pantry. "Because, Barton, last time I gave you Wednesday, you used your slot to watch reruns of 'Golden Girls.'"

"Hey," Clint pointed defensively, "those ladies are legends, and you know it."

You bit your lip to suppress a giggle, silently pressing record on your phone. "Sounds intense, guys," you teased, making sure you sounded nonchalant.

Clint looked over at you, shaking his head with a grin. "You have no idea, kid."

Sam smiled at you warmly as he grabbed some chips. "How was your lesson with Steve?"

You sighed dramatically, rolling your eyes. "He spent two hours telling me about the Battle of Normandy. Again."

Clint groaned sympathetically. "Oof, you okay? Need medical assistance?"

You laughed lightly, waving your sandwich at him. "I survived, thanks. Barely."

Sam chuckled softly, shaking his head as he started to walk towards the cabinet to grab a bowl. You held your breath, waiting eagerly for what would happen next.

Right on cue, the cabinet doors flew open, and a burst of confetti exploded outward, showering Sam and Clint in bright, glittery colors.

Sam jumped back with a yelp, dropping the bag of chips. "What the hell—"

Clint let out a high-pitched, startled squeak, nearly tripping over his own feet as he stumbled away from the sparkling confetti shower. "Holy—"

You burst out laughing, unable to hold it back anymore, tears forming at the corners of your eyes as you captured their shocked, glitter-covered expressions on camera. "Oh my god, your faces!"

Sam turned slowly, still blinking confetti out of his eyes. He shook his head, pointing at you accusingly. "You are evil, Y/N Stark."

Clint brushed glitter from his hair, eyes wide in disbelief. "Seriously, kid? Glitter?"

You shrugged innocently, giggling uncontrollably. "Well, technically it's biodegradable confetti, but yeah."

"I don't even wanna know how you pulled that off," Sam muttered, shaking confetti off his shoulders with an annoyed expression. "Did Tony help you with this?"

You grinned mischievously. "Nope. All me. Consider it payback for your air horn prank last week."

Sam groaned dramatically, looking up at the ceiling. "Oh, c'mon, that wasn't even my best work!"

Clint was still laughing softly, brushing sparkles from his sleeve. "She got you good, Wilson."

Sam scoffed, pointing at Clint's glitter-covered shirt. "You don't exactly look untouched yourself, Barton."

You giggled again, ending your recording as you spun around happily in your seat. "This footage is gonna look amazing at the next family movie night."

Clint narrowed his eyes playfully at you. "You're lucky we love you, kid."

"Seriously," Sam agreed, finally breaking into a smile. "I oughta put glitter in your training gear."

You gasped dramatically, placing a hand over your heart. "Sam, you wouldn't."

Clint grinned evilly, leaning over and whispering conspiratorially, "Don't give him ideas, kid."

You smirked playfully, standing up and putting your plate in the sink. "I'll be ready. Bring it on."

Sam shook his head, chuckling softly as he grabbed another bowl, cautiously opening another cabinet. "At least let me have lunch without another attack."

You held your hands up innocently, giving him your sweetest smile. "I'm out of glitter bombs. For now."

"Why do I not believe you?" Clint asked skeptically, side-eyeing you as he finally sat at the table with his water bottle.

"Because you're smart," you teased, winking at him as you started walking toward the kitchen door. "Better watch your backs!"

---

“Can’t you teach me Latin instead? Latin is cool,” you said to Natasha, leaning your elbows on the kitchen island dramatically. “You promised you would when you pretended to be Dad’s assistant. Or… whatever happened.”

Natasha sighed, rolling her eyes affectionately as she set down her mug of tea. “Y/N, for the last time—I was undercover, not just pretending. And I distinctly remember saying maybe. Besides, you're already learning Russian.”

You waved your hand dismissively. “Da, da, ya znayu. Yes, yes, I know. Russian is fine, but I think Latin would be more fun.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, folding her arms and giving you a skeptical look. “Fun? Y/N, Latin is literally a dead language.”

“Exactly!” You pointed at her excitedly. “Dead languages are cool, Natasha. Think of how impressive it’ll sound when I can insult Clint without him even knowing it.”

Clint turned his head quickly from his spot across the kitchen, eyes narrowed. “Excuse me, Stark Junior?”

You grinned sweetly, fluttering your eyelashes innocently. “Nothing, Uncle Clint. Love you!”

Clint narrowed his eyes suspiciously, slowly returning his attention to his sandwich. “Yeah, sure you do.”

Natasha chuckled softly, shaking her head as she returned her focus to you. “Look, Y/N, as entertaining as it sounds, Russian is actually useful. Latin—not so much.”

“Useful?” You scoffed playfully, leaning back slightly on your stool. “Nat, I already speak fluent Spanish and Chinese. I literally don’t need Russian. Did you know Chinese is gonna be the most spoken language by 2050? So, really, teaching me Latin would at least be interesting.”

Natasha tilted her head, looking mildly impressed despite herself. “You’ve really done your research on this, haven’t you?”

You nodded enthusiastically, smiling confidently. “See? Genius. I rest my case.”

Bruce chuckled softly from across the room, glancing up from his own notes. “She’s got you there, Natasha. You might want to reconsider.”

Natasha shot Bruce an amused glare before sighing softly, shoulders slumping slightly in resignation. “You really won’t let this go, will you?”

“Absolutely not,” you replied immediately, beaming brightly.

She shook her head again, giving you a reluctant smile. “Fine. How about this? You ace your Russian exam next week, and I’ll teach you some Latin. Deal?”

You perked up immediately, eyes sparkling. “Deal! Wait—exam? Since when do we have exams?”

Natasha smirked knowingly, sipping her tea calmly. “Since right now.”

You groaned loudly, slumping forward dramatically. “Ugh, betrayal.”

She laughed lightly, reaching over and ruffling your hair affectionately. “You’ll survive. Now, stop complaining and study. Latin’s waiting for you.”

You grumbled softly under your breath, sitting up straighter and nodding reluctantly. “Fine. But when I ace it, you better be prepared to teach me every Latin insult known to mankind.”

She rolled her eyes, lips quirking up slightly. “I’ll do my best.”

“Thank you,” you smiled brightly again, grabbing your notes dramatically off the counter. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have an exam to crush.”

As you hopped off your stool, Clint gave you a teasing grin. “Hey, when you learn all those insults, teach me a few so I can use them on Stark, yeah?”

You smirked mischievously at him, giving a playful wink. “Oh, definitely.”

Bruce chuckled softly again, shaking his head fondly. “I think you two underestimate Tony’s ability to insult in any language.”

Natasha smiled knowingly, eyes glinting with amusement as she watched you head toward the elevator. “He does have an impressive vocabulary.”

Clint sighed dramatically, finishing off his sandwich. “Great. Looks like I’ll have to learn Latin too, just to keep up.”

You grinned from the elevator, waving your notes cheerfully at him. “Don’t worry, Clint! I’ll give you a discount on lessons!”

The elevator doors closed on Clint’s amused laughter and Natasha’s fond shake of her head. You leaned back against the wall, flipping through your Russian notes with renewed determination. The promise of Latin—and a wealth of creative insults—awaited.

---

You were in your lab going over your Russian notes when Peter entered, backpack slung over one shoulder. You looked up from the tablet immediately, giving him a bright smile. "Hey, you made it!"

Peter chuckled softly as he dropped his backpack by the door, coming over to lean against your lab table. "Yeah, finally. Subway was packed, and some guy spilled coffee all over my shoes. So, great afternoon."

You bit your lip sympathetically, glancing down at his slightly stained sneakers. "Aw, Pete. I'll clean them up for you later."

He smiled gratefully, looking down at your notes curiously. "Is this Russian? I thought Natasha already said you're fluent."

"I am," you sighed dramatically, leaning your head back against the chair. "But apparently Nat thinks my Russian still needs work. Something about ‘too much slang’ and ‘not enough proper grammar.’"

Peter laughed lightly, shaking his head. "Well, she's probably right."

"Not helping," you muttered playfully, poking his side with your stylus. "I'm bribing Nat with my language prowess so she'll finally teach me Latin."

"Latin?" Peter asked with surprise, lifting his brows. "Why?"

You gave him a cheeky grin, eyes sparkling mischievously. "So I can insult Clint without him understanding me, obviously."

Peter laughed again, leaning a little closer. "I thought Clint was pretty used to insults by now."

"Yeah," you agreed with a grin, nudging his shoulder gently. "But I bet he doesn't know many in Latin."

Peter smiled warmly at you, his eyes softening as he watched you continue scribbling notes. After a moment, you noticed him staring and tilted your head curiously.

"Everything okay?" you asked softly, reaching out and gently touching his hand.

Peter nodded, a faint blush tinting his cheeks. "Yeah, it's just—I guess I'm still a little nervous about the field trip next Friday."

You softened immediately, putting your notes aside and squeezing his hand reassuringly. "Pete, it's gonna be fine. I promise."

He sighed anxiously, running a hand through his messy curls. "Yeah, I know. It's just weird, you know? Flash was giving me crap again today, and everyone else just thinks I'm lying about my internship."

You frowned slightly, reaching out and tugging Peter gently towards you until he moved around to sit on the stool beside yours. "Well, Flash is an idiot. And honestly? Who cares what everyone thinks? You're amazing, Peter. Let them doubt. Next week, you'll prove them all wrong."

Peter smiled softly, relaxing slightly as he met your reassuring gaze. "Thanks, Y/N. You're the best."

"Obviously," you teased lightly, nudging his arm again with a playful smile. "But, um, speaking of next week—I sort of had an idea."

He lifted a brow, his expression wary but amused. "Should I be scared?"

You laughed, shaking your head quickly. "No, I promise! Nothing embarrassing—well, maybe slightly embarrassing—but in a cute, sweet, romantic kind of way."

Peter chuckled quietly, rolling his eyes with affection. "That doesn't exactly make me feel better."

You grinned sheepishly, leaning closer to him excitedly. "What if I brought you lunch? Like, showed up during your tour, surprised you in front of your class?"

Peter stared at you, eyes wide with mild panic. "Wait, Y/N, I—I mean—"

You bit your lip softly, suddenly nervous. "Unless that's too much. We don't have to. I just thought it'd be nice—"

"No!" Peter quickly interrupted, placing a gentle hand on your arm, voice softening immediately. "No, Y/N. I like the idea. I really do."

You raised your eyebrows skeptically, watching him closely. "Are you sure? You kind of look like you just swallowed a spider."

He made a face at the analogy, chuckling nervously. "It's just—you know, people are gonna freak out. And Flash is definitely gonna say something stupid."

You smirked, eyes sparkling mischievously. "Oh, I hope he does. Then I can watch him shrivel under the power of my infamous Stark glare."

Peter laughed softly, visibly relaxing now as he shook his head with amusement. "You really have spent too much time around Tony."

You flashed a proud grin. "Can't help it. Stark genes."

He smiled warmly at you, eyes lingering fondly as he squeezed your hand gently. "But seriously, Y/N. I'd love for you to stop by. And screw whatever Flash thinks."

You grinned happily, excitement bubbling up in your chest as you leaned forward, pressing a quick, affectionate kiss to his lips. "It's a date, then."

Peter smiled shyly, cheeks turning bright pink as he squeezed your hand tighter. "Yeah, definitely."

Just then, footsteps echoed in the hallway, and you both turned toward the door as Tony strode in, a pizza box balanced in one hand, and the other covering his eyes.

“I’m giving you 15 seconds to get situated from whatever teenage shenanigans you two were up to. I better not see any clothing articles on the floor—”

"Dad!" you groaned loudly, cheeks immediately flushing. You quickly jumped away from Peter, nearly stumbling off your stool in embarrassment as you hurriedly fixed your hair. "We were literally just talking!"

Peter awkwardly cleared his throat, face equally flushed as he stared down at the floor, nervously scratching the back of his neck. "Uh, hi, Mr. Stark."

Tony finally lowered his hand from his eyes, giving both of you a deeply amused look as he walked further into the lab. "Relax, kiddos. Just making sure. Can't be too careful, what with teenagers being teenagers and all."

"Dad, seriously," you mumbled, trying to fight the burning embarrassment still flooding your cheeks. "I'm pretty sure the last thing on our minds is doing anything weird in my lab. With you literally two rooms down."

Tony smirked slightly, placing the pizza box on the counter beside you. "Hey, I don't judge. Hormones are unpredictable."

"Oh my God," you muttered, covering your face with your hands, hoping the ground might spontaneously open and swallow you whole. "Why are you like this?"

Peter laughed nervously, shifting uncomfortably as he glanced between you and Tony. "Um, sir, we—we were really just talking about the field trip next week."

Tony raised a skeptical eyebrow, glancing sideways at Peter. "Sure, Pete. You don't have to worry about me, though. I trust you. Mostly."

You let out an exaggerated groan, slumping dramatically against the lab table. "Please, Dad. For the love of Thor, stop talking."

Tony chuckled deeply, flipping the pizza box open casually. "Speaking of the field trip," he started, pulling out a slice, "I've been thinking about how we should handle this whole thing."

You sighed softly, finally looking up at him with a wary expression. "Handle it?"

Tony nodded slowly, taking a casual bite of his pizza. "You know, introductions, awkward teenage social dynamics, maybe a strategically embarrassing slideshow detailing Peter's intern duties—"

"Mr. Stark!" Peter interrupted quickly, looking mortified. "Please don't."

You shook your head vigorously, narrowing your eyes firmly at Tony. "Absolutely not. Dad, you promised you'd behave. No embarrassing Peter, remember?"

Tony pouted dramatically, sighing deeply as he looked between the two of you. "You're no fun at all. You know how much prep I've already put into this presentation?"

Peter paled visibly, shifting anxiously on his stool. "Presentation?"

Tony smirked mischievously, leaning forward slightly as he took another bite. "It's titled 'Peter Parker: Spider Intern or Spider Imposter?' Thought it had a nice ring to it."

You groaned again, burying your face in your arms on the lab table. "Peter, I'm so sorry."

Peter chuckled nervously, shaking his head as he glanced over at you. "It's fine. I mean, how bad could it really be?"

Tony grinned widely. "Oh, kid, famous last words."

"Dad," you finally lifted your head again, giving him a pleading look, "can we please just have a normal field trip? Without your involvement? At all?"

Tony raised an eyebrow, looking dramatically offended. "No involvement? I'm hurt, Y/N. This is literally Stark Industries. Emphasis on the Stark."

"Exactly," you pointed out firmly, crossing your arms. "Industries. Not Tony Stark's Personal Embarrassment Tour."

Peter nodded quickly, clearly hopeful you’d convinced him. "Please, Mr. Stark. I promise I'll make sure my classmates behave."

Tony tilted his head thoughtfully, still chewing his pizza. "Hmm. Alright, Parker. I'll consider scaling back my incredible plans. But only because you're looking at me like a kicked puppy."

Peter relaxed visibly, sighing in relief. "Thank you."

You let out your own relieved breath, reaching over to squeeze Peter's hand gently. "You okay?"

He nodded slightly, squeezing your hand back as he gave you a small smile. "Yeah, thanks. Just, you know, mild panic attack."

You chuckled softly, giving him an affectionate look. "I promise, it'll be okay. We can handle Dad."

Tony rolled his eyes dramatically, finishing off his pizza slice. "I'm literally right here."

You grinned cheekily at him, shrugging your shoulders. "We know."

Tony chuckled lightly, shaking his head fondly at you both. "Alright, alright, I get it. I'll behave." He turned his attention back to Peter, pointing a stern finger in his direction. "But you'd better make sure those high school gremlins don't touch anything. Or breathe on anything expensive. Especially Flash."

Peter nodded quickly, looking relieved but still a bit nervous. "Yes, sir."

Tony sighed dramatically again, reaching for another slice of pizza as he shot you both a teasing smirk. "Honestly, I'm pretty sure running an Avengers-level security detail was less stressful than hosting a bunch of teenagers."

You laughed softly, shaking your head at him. "Relax, Dad. It'll be fine."

"Easy for you to say," Tony grumbled playfully, giving you an affectionate smile. "You're not the one dealing with liability paperwork."

Peter smiled slightly, visibly calmer now as he relaxed next to you. "I promise, Mr. Stark, we'll be on our best behavior."

Tony smiled knowingly, pointing at him dramatically. "Good. Because if not, I'm blaming you directly, Parker. And then—"

"Tony," Pepper's amused voice suddenly cut in from the doorway. You all turned to see her leaning against the frame with a fond expression. "Don't threaten Peter. He's nervous enough."

Tony grinned sheepishly, shrugging at his wife with a playful pout. "Hey, someone’s gotta keep the kid on his toes."

Pepper rolled her eyes warmly, walking toward you and Peter with a reassuring smile. "Don't listen to him. You'll both do great next week."

You smiled gratefully at her, relaxing further. "Thanks, Mom."

Pepper gently squeezed your shoulder, giving Peter a comforting look. "It'll be fun, Peter. And don't worry, Tony will behave himself."

Tony scoffed loudly, crossing his arms indignantly. "I'm literally standing right here. You people act like I'm the teenager."

You smirked cheekily, tilting your head. "Well, Dad—"

He quickly held up his hand, shaking his head firmly. "Don’t. Finish. That. Thought."

Pepper laughed lightly, patting Tony's shoulder affectionately. "Come on, Tony. Let's leave the kids alone."

He sighed dramatically, moving to follow her but turned at the doorway to give you both a mock-stern glare. "Door stays open, kids."

"Dad!" you groaned again, flushing furiously as Tony chuckled and finally followed Pepper out, the door staying conspicuously wide open.

You sighed deeply, slumping slightly as you turned to look at Peter. "Sorry again. He's… a lot."

Peter laughed softly, relaxing completely now as he smiled warmly at you. "I’m used to it. Besides, I think your dad's threats of embarrassment kinda prepared me for this stuff."

You grinned gently, leaning toward him again. "So, still excited for Friday?"

He gave you a nervous but sincere smile, nodding slightly. "Yeah. As long as you're there, I'll be fine."

You felt your heart flutter warmly, squeezing his hand again as you leaned in, gently pressing your lips against his again. This time, without any interruption from Tony.

Peter smiled softly against your lips, pulling back slowly and meeting your gaze warmly. "Thanks, Y/N. For everything."

You smiled gently back at him, your eyes full of affection. "Anytime, Pete."

Peter chuckled softly, shaking his head slightly. "Honestly, compared to being Spider-Man, dealing with your dad isn't so bad."

You laughed, giving his hand another gentle squeeze. "I'll remind you that you said that next Friday."

He sighed dramatically, grinning playfully. "Great. Can't wait."

You smiled warmly, knowing that despite Tony’s teasing, next week really was going to be great—because you'd be together, and that was what mattered most.

---

“Did May sign the permission slip? It’s due today!” Ned asked Peter as they walked down the hallway to Mr. Harrington’s class.

“Yeah, barely,” Peter laughed nervously, tugging his backpack higher onto his shoulder. “She got home late from her shift at the hospital, but I practically shoved the pen in her hand this morning.”

Ned chuckled, shaking his head knowingly. “Man, I still can’t believe we’re going to Stark Industries. Like, the actual Stark Industries. You think they’ll show us the Iron Man suits?”

Peter smirked, glancing over at Ned with amusement. “Probably not the real ones. Knowing Mr. Stark, he’ll probably have holographic decoys or something.”

“Oh, totally,” Ned agreed excitedly. “Wait, do you think the Avengers are gonna be there? Y/N did say the team all lives there.”

Peter bit his lip nervously, glancing around to make sure no one overheard them as they walked. “Yeah, I know. And that’s kinda what I’m worried about. Can you imagine how Flash is gonna react if Thor casually strolls by during the tour?”

Ned laughed, clapping Peter’s shoulder reassuringly. “Hey, just let Thor pick Flash up one-handed—that’ll shut him up real quick.”

Peter chuckled despite himself, shaking his head. “Yeah, tempting as that sounds, I promised Y/N we’d all behave.”

“Aw, man,” Ned teased dramatically, pretending to pout. “You guys are no fun at all.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Peter rolled his eyes affectionately, nudging Ned’s shoulder gently. “Just help me make sure MJ doesn’t instigate something. She’s been weirdly excited about this.”

Ned snorted loudly, nodding vigorously. “Dude, MJ told me she’s bringing popcorn to watch the chaos unfold. I think she’s secretly hoping Flash embarrasses himself.”

“Great,” Peter sighed, running a hand anxiously through his curls. “Just what I needed.”

“You’ll be fine, Peter,” Ned reassured gently, lowering his voice slightly. “Besides, you’re literally Spider-Man and dating Tony Stark’s daughter. Honestly, if Flash knew the truth, he’d lose his mind.”

Peter laughed quietly, shaking his head slightly. “Yeah, well, let’s hope he doesn’t find out like that. Flash losing his mind is the last thing I want.”

Ned laughed again, giving Peter another reassuring pat on the back as they approached the classroom. “Relax, dude. It’ll be fine. Besides, Y/N’s coming, right? She’ll probably have your back.”

Peter smiled softly at that, nodding slowly as he walked into Mr. Harrington’s room. “Yeah, she will.”

They found their seats, and MJ looked up from her sketchbook as they joined her. “Morning, losers. Permission slips signed, or are you both gonna have to sit this one out?”

“Very funny,” Ned said dryly, showing her his slip proudly. “Signed, sealed, and delivered.”

MJ smirked, lifting an eyebrow as she glanced at Peter. “And you, Parker?”

Peter waved his permission slip dramatically, giving her a mock-serious look. “Relax, MJ, I’ve got it covered.”

“Good,” she replied casually, returning to her sketching. “Because if you missed this, I was gonna have to record Flash embarrassing himself and send it to you.”

Peter smiled faintly. “How thoughtful.”

“Always,” MJ replied without looking up.

The bell rang, and Mr. Harrington quickly stood, adjusting his glasses and collecting the slips eagerly. “Alright, everyone! Permission slips, hand them in now, please! Stark Industries awaits!”

Peter handed his slip to Mr. Harrington, heart thudding slightly in his chest as he felt reality sinking in again. As Mr. Harrington counted the slips, Flash loudly leaned toward Peter from his seat.

“Better be careful, Parker,” Flash whispered mockingly, a smug grin plastered across his face. “You wouldn’t wanna embarrass yourself in front of Tony Stark by pretending to be his intern, would you?”

Peter sighed deeply, not even bothering to look over. “Thanks, Flash. Really appreciate the advice.”

Flash scoffed arrogantly, crossing his arms as he leaned back. “Just looking out for you, Parker.”

MJ shot Peter an amused, knowing glance, mouthing silently, “Ten bucks says he cries.”

Peter stifled a laugh, relaxing slightly. Maybe Ned was right—Friday wouldn’t be so bad. Especially since he had you.

---

Meanwhile, at the tower, you were currently scribbling equations onto the large whiteboard in your lab, muttering softly to yourself as you worked through a particularly challenging formula.

“You know, most teenagers prefer sleeping in, Y/N,” Rhodey’s voice suddenly teased lightly from the doorway.

You spun around, smiling brightly as you spotted him leaning casually against the frame. “Yeah, but most teenagers aren’t Stark geniuses.”

He chuckled softly, stepping into the lab and glancing at your equations curiously. “Impressive as always. New project?”

“Sort of,” you admitted sheepishly, tapping your marker against your chin thoughtfully. “Peter and I were talking about his web-fluid yesterday, and I think I found a way to improve its tensile strength.”

Rhodey raised an eyebrow, impressed despite himself. “Tony’s gonna be thrilled. Speaking of Peter, how’s he feeling about Friday?”

You sighed softly, leaning your back against the table. “Honestly? He’s nervous. Like, really nervous.”

Rhodey smiled knowingly, tilting his head sympathetically. “Poor kid. High school drama, huh?”

“Exactly,” you replied with a small laugh, shaking your head slightly. “It’s just… it’s frustrating. He’s incredible, you know? But he still worries what people like Flash Thompson think.”

Rhodey nodded understandingly. “Well, Flash Thompson’s an idiot.”

“That’s what I said!” you exclaimed immediately, grinning widely.

Rhodey laughed warmly, squeezing your shoulder gently. “Look, just remind Peter that he’s got nothing to prove. He knows who he is. You know who he is. That’s all that matters.”

You smiled softly at that, feeling warmth spread through your chest. “Thanks, Uncle Rhodey. I’ll make sure to remind him.”

He smiled back warmly, eyes gentle. “You two are good for each other, Y/N. You’ve always balanced each other out.”

You blushed slightly, nodding shyly. “Yeah, we do.”

“Alright,” Rhodey stepped back with an affectionate grin, “I better get to that meeting. Just wanted to check on you.”

You smiled warmly, giving him a grateful look. “Thanks, Uncle Rhodey.”

“Anytime, kiddo,” he replied gently before disappearing back into the hallway.

You turned back toward your equations, mind drifting again toward Peter and Friday. Despite all your reassurances, you knew exactly why he was nervous. Peter had always preferred blending in quietly, and dating Tony Stark’s daughter certainly wasn’t the way to keep a low profile.

But you’d made a promise to yourself—you would be there for him. No matter how awkward, how nervous, or how many snarky comments Flash made. Peter was worth it. Besides, you thought with a soft smile, you could handle a bit of embarrassment. Especially if it meant making sure everyone else knew just how amazing Peter Parker really was.

Smiling gently to yourself, you turned your attention back to your calculations. Friday couldn’t come soon enough.

---

Soon, Friday arrived and the bus to Stark Tower was overwhelmed with chatter and excitement.

"Oh my god, we're literally almost there!" Ned practically bounced in his seat, gripping the seat in front of him excitedly. "I'm actually going to see the lab where Iron Man makes his suits."

MJ rolled her eyes slightly, flipping casually through a book she'd brought along. "Please don't faint when you meet Tony again, Ned."

Ned frowned, looking mildly offended. "I didn't faint last time, MJ. I just got a little… dizzy."

Peter chuckled nervously from beside them, fingers fidgeting anxiously in his lap as his leg bounced rapidly. "Guys, please try not to draw too much attention today? Please?"

MJ lifted her gaze to Peter, arching an eyebrow skeptically. "You're dating the daughter of a billionaire superhero, Parker. I'm pretty sure attention is inevitable."

Peter groaned quietly, sinking slightly lower in his seat. "I was afraid you'd say that."

Flash loudly cleared his throat from across the aisle, leaning over with a smug smirk plastered on his face. "Parker, remind me—do interns at Stark Industries actually get to meet anyone important, or do they just spend the whole time fetching coffee?"

Peter sighed, closing his eyes briefly. "Flash, I've told you a million times—I'm an intern. I work in an actual lab."

Flash snorted dismissively. "Yeah, sure you do. We'll see about that."

"Ignore him," MJ muttered calmly, returning her attention to her book. "He's just jealous because his dad couldn't buy him an internship there."

Ned snickered softly as Flash huffed indignantly, turning away again.

Peter's phone buzzed suddenly, and he quickly glanced down, seeing your name light up his screen. He smiled slightly, quickly opening your message.

You: Hey Pete! Just checking in—are you still alive? Ned didn't faint yet, right?

Peter grinned, quickly typing a reply.

Peter: Barely hanging on. And Ned’s still conscious. For now.

You: Good. Can't wait to see you.

Peter's heart fluttered at that, fingers hesitating over the screen before he sent back his message.

Peter: Me too. Miss you.

"Aw, Peter's blushing," MJ teased flatly, smirking without looking up from her page.

Peter flushed deeper, quickly pocketing his phone and stammering awkwardly. "I—uh—I'm not—"

"It's cute, man," Ned reassured, giving him a gentle nudge. "Besides, you're gonna be fine. Y/N will make sure Flash shuts up."

Peter sighed softly, leaning back against his seat. "Yeah. Hopefully without giving him permanent emotional damage."

MJ shrugged nonchalantly. "Either way, it's a win for me."

Peter chuckled softly, shaking his head as the bus finally pulled up in front of Stark Tower. The entire class erupted in excited chatter, students pressing against windows to get a better look at the imposing glass building.

Mr. Harrington stood from the front of the bus, trying to speak loudly over the chatter. "Alright, class! Remember, this is a rare and special opportunity. So please—please—try to behave yourselves."

Flash scoffed loudly from his seat. "Relax, Mr. Harrington. I'm sure Parker here can use his imaginary connections to keep us in line."

Peter bit his lip, clenching his fists tightly to prevent himself from saying something he'd regret. Thankfully, MJ was quick to respond.

"Hey, Flash," she called dryly. "Maybe Stark Industries will have an opening in the mailroom for you after graduation. Aim high."

The class laughed quietly as Flash’s face turned red with embarrassment. Peter gave MJ a grateful look, smiling slightly.

They filed off the bus and gathered at the entrance, Mr. Harrington attempting to count heads. Peter’s nerves spiked again as he glanced up at the glass doors. He swallowed anxiously, realizing in just moments, the quiet corner of his life he’d worked so hard to keep separate was about to collide spectacularly with his classmates.

"Relax, Peter," Ned murmured reassuringly, patting his shoulder. "You got this."

Peter smiled weakly, nodding slightly. "Thanks, Ned."

MJ looked up from her book again, giving him a tiny smirk. "If all else fails, just have Tony Stark kick Flash out of the building."

Peter laughed softly, feeling some of the tension leave his shoulders. "Good idea."

Before he could reply further, the front doors opened, and Peter's heart skipped when he saw Happy Hogan step through.

"Welcome, Midtown," Happy said loudly, in his usual deadpan voice. "My name is Happy Hogan. I'm head of security here at Stark Industries. I'll be taking you to the conference room, and we'll begin the tour shortly."

Flash's eyes widened, whispering excitedly to his friends, "That's Stark's security guy! You know he's gotta know Iron Man personally."

Peter smiled slightly at Happy, trying to catch his eye. Happy's gaze finally landed on Peter, giving him a small, knowing nod.

"Keep up, people," Happy said impatiently, already turning around and leading the class toward the elevators.

Peter felt the butterflies in his stomach grow heavier with every step they took. His breathing quickened slightly, heart pounding anxiously in his chest as he glanced at Ned, whispering nervously, "This is it. Oh god."

Ned squeezed his shoulder again reassuringly, giving Peter an encouraging smile. "You're gonna be fine, Pete. Just breathe."

MJ smirked faintly as she walked beside them, glancing sideways at Peter. "You look like you're about to faint, Parker."

Peter forced himself to chuckle, nodding weakly. "Yeah, no kidding."

Finally, they reached the massive conference room, and Happy gestured inside impatiently. "Sit down and don't touch anything. We will be passing out badges that you will need during the tour. There are different levels for different roles in the company, and badges are never reprinted unless lost. Because apparently I’m the only here who takes security seriou—”

“Ah, son of Hogan!” Thor boomed, standing in the conference room door. “You wouldn’t mind going out and getting more Pop-Tarts, would you?”

Happy closed his eyes and took a deep breath, visibly counting to ten before turning slowly to face Thor. "Thor, we've discussed this. I'm working."

Thor smiled broadly, completely unfazed. "Ah, yes, Son of Hogan, but this is an emergency. You see, I ate all the strawberry ones, and now Banner refuses to share his."

Happy sighed deeply again, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Thor, please—just wait until I'm done here."

Thor's eyes drifted curiously to the classroom full of wide-eyed teenagers, offering them an enthusiastic wave. "Greetings, young scholars! Welcome to Stark's domain!"

Flash’s mouth fell open in shock, eyes wide as he grabbed his friend's shoulder. "Dude, it's literally Thor!"

Peter shrank slightly in his seat, cheeks flushing as he fought the overwhelming urge to bury his head in his arms. Ned elbowed him excitedly, whispering, "This is already the best day ever!"

MJ's smirk deepened as she leaned closer, murmuring softly, "At least Flash finally shut up."

Peter chuckled weakly, glancing nervously back at Thor, who had taken it upon himself to stride confidently into the conference room. Happy followed quickly, irritation clear on his face.

"Thor, I swear, if you break something—" Happy muttered sharply.

"Nonsense," Thor boomed cheerfully, placing his hands confidently on his hips as he smiled warmly at the stunned class. "These fine young Midgardians deserve the full Avengers experience."

Happy groaned softly, rolling his eyes upward in defeat.

Flash finally found his voice, practically vibrating in his seat. "Mr. Thor, sir—do you think we could, uh, maybe see your hammer?"

Thor chuckled heartily, shaking his head good-naturedly. "I'm afraid Mjolnir is resting securely, but perhaps another time!"

Mr. Harrington cleared his throat nervously, stepping forward to address Thor with an awkward smile. "Well, thank you for the unexpected introduction, Mr. Thor. We, uh, appreciate the warm welcome."

Thor beamed brightly, clapping a heavy hand onto Mr. Harrington’s shoulder, nearly knocking the teacher off balance. "Of course! I bid you farewell, small ones. Enjoy Stark's sanctuary!"

With a final dramatic wave, Thor exited the conference room, leaving a stunned silence behind.

Happy exhaled deeply, glancing around the room again. "So that's Thor. Please, no more interruptions. As I was saying before our surprise guest—badges. You'll each receive one based on your level of clearance."

He began passing out badges, placing them carefully onto the table as he spoke. "Blue badges grant general access for today. Do not lose these, do not trade them, do not sell them online. Trust me, we'll know."

Flash eagerly grabbed his badge, practically cradling it in awe as he turned to whisper excitedly to his friends. "Guys, this is legit Stark tech!"

MJ rolled her eyes slightly, carefully clipping her badge onto her shirt. "It's literally a laminated card, Flash."

Flash scowled at her, but Ned cut in excitedly before he could reply. "Hey, Peter, your badge is different. Yours is red!"

Peter flushed, awkwardly reaching out to take his badge from Happy, who gave him another subtle, reassuring nod. "Yeah, uh—it's an intern badge. It gives me access to the labs."

Flash's eyes widened again, looking sharply at Peter. "Wait—Parker actually has a legit badge?"

Peter sighed tiredly, clipping the badge onto his hoodie. "Yeah, Flash, that's what I've been trying to tell you."

Flash narrowed his eyes suspiciously, clearly skeptical but momentarily at a loss for words. Ned grinned proudly, nudging Peter excitedly. "Told you they'd freak."

Peter smiled weakly, glancing anxiously toward the doorway as Happy finished handing out badges and returned to the front of the room.

"Alright, people," Happy continued in his deadpan voice, "we have a lot to cover. I'll be taking you through the lower-level labs, public spaces, and exhibits. You'll be staying together and not touching anything unless explicitly instructed."

Mr. Harrington quickly nodded, his eyes wide with mild panic as he gestured toward the class. "Yes, yes—everyone, please listen carefully to Mr. Hogan."

Peter took a slow, steadying breath, trying to quell the anxiety that bubbled within his chest. MJ leaned slightly toward him, murmuring dryly, "Relax, Parker. You've survived alien invasions. You can survive a high school field trip."

Peter let out a shaky laugh, nodding weakly. "Yeah, you're right."

Happy motioned impatiently, waving everyone toward the door again. "Alright, follow me closely. We're heading down to the exhibit hall first."

Peter stood slowly, falling into step beside Ned and MJ. Flash followed closely behind, loudly whispering to anyone who would listen, "I bet we'll get to meet Tony Stark himself."

Peter's pulse quickened nervously at the mention of Tony, stomach twisting anxiously at the thought of just how close his carefully separated worlds were becoming. MJ glanced at him knowingly, giving a subtle smirk.

"You know," she murmured casually, "if Flash annoys Stark enough, maybe he'll ban him from the building."

Peter chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Yeah, let's hope so."

They reached the elevators, and Happy quickly keyed in a security code, herding the group inside. "No pushing, please."

The elevator descended smoothly, opening into the exhibit hall. The entire class gasped, excited murmurs filling the air as they took in the massive display cases of Stark tech, holographic screens detailing various inventions, and impressive Avengers suits lining the walls.

Ned’s mouth fell open, eyes wide with awe. "Peter, this is insane!"

Peter smiled faintly, glancing around nervously. "Yeah, it's pretty cool."

Happy cleared his throat impatiently again, gesturing toward the displays. "Feel free to look around. No touching the glass. You break it, you buy it, and trust me—none of you can afford it."

Flash immediately moved toward the nearest Iron Man suit, practically pressing his nose to the glass as he marveled at it.

MJ leaned toward Peter again, speaking quietly. "You know Flash is gonna touch something eventually, right?"

Peter smiled slightly, nodding in resignation. "Yeah, probably."

“Spider-Man has his own display!?” Flash exclaimed, practically rushing toward the exhibit. He pressed his hands against the glass excitedly, ignoring Happy’s warning glare.

"Dude," Ned whispered to Peter, trying and failing to hide his grin, "That's you!"

"Shh!" Peter hissed nervously, glancing around quickly to ensure no one overheard. "Not here, man."

MJ chuckled quietly from beside them, arms crossed as she casually took in the spectacle. "So, this is what a secret identity crisis looks like."

Flash’s voice rang out loudly again, clearly trying to impress his small gathering of friends. "I mean, Spider-Man’s cool and all, but he's no Iron Man."

Peter felt his face flush slightly, resisting the urge to say something back. Ned, noticing his friend’s tense expression, quickly nudged Peter gently.

"Just breathe, dude," Ned whispered reassuringly, eyes sympathetic. "He doesn’t even know who he’s talking to."

Peter sighed softly, smiling weakly at Ned. "Yeah, you're right."

Flash continued his monologue to anyone who would listen, motioning dramatically to the display. "Spider-Man's alright, sure, but he's probably just some random guy who got lucky. Stark Industries just felt bad and threw him a bone."

"Wow," MJ deadpanned softly, eyebrows raised as she looked at Peter pointedly. "Are you gonna tell him how you single-handedly stopped a flying bird guy and an army of drones, or should I?"

Peter bit back a laugh, shaking his head nervously. "No, MJ. Please, no."

Meanwhile, Happy loudly cleared his throat again, clearly irritated. "Hey! Thompson, right? Keep your hands off the glass."

Flash pulled his hands back immediately, looking sheepish but quickly regaining his confidence. "Sorry, sir. Just admiring Spider-Man’s, uh, impressive suit."

Happy raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "I'm sure he'd be thrilled."

The class snickered softly at Flash’s embarrassment, and Ned leaned closer to Peter, whispering excitedly, "Oh man, I wish Y/N were here. She'd totally roast him right now."

Peter chuckled softly, nerves easing slightly at the mention of you. "Yeah, I know. She's definitely better at handling Flash than I am."

MJ smirked faintly, eyes sparkling with amusement. "You mean scarier."

"That too," Peter admitted with a slight laugh, shoulders relaxing a bit more.

Happy guided them further into the exhibit hall, pointing out various pieces of technology as the class followed excitedly behind. Ned eagerly snapped photos with his phone, whispering excited commentary to Peter, who smiled and nodded distractedly, mind clearly elsewhere.

They stopped again in front of a sleek glass display featuring the nanotech suit Tony wore during the battle against Thanos. The entire class gasped softly, and even MJ looked up from her book, clearly impressed.

"This," Happy announced seriously, motioning toward the display, "is Mr. Stark’s most advanced suit to date—fully integrated nanotechnology. It saved his life multiple times."

Flash stepped forward again, looking star-struck. "Is this the actual suit Iron Man wore?"

Happy sighed softly, nodding reluctantly. "Yes. And before you ask, no, you can't touch it."

Flash stepped back quickly, holding his hands up innocently. "Just checking."

"Wow," Ned breathed softly, glancing at Peter excitedly. "Dude, you've literally helped Mr. Stark build stuff like this. That's insane."

Flash overheard Ned's comment, quickly scoffing dismissively. "Oh, come on, Leeds. Stop believing Parker’s ridiculous fantasies. Like Tony Stark would ever let him near something important."

Peter felt his jaw tighten slightly in irritation but forced himself to remain silent, refusing to engage. MJ, however, tilted her head calmly, offering Flash a dry, unimpressed look.

"You're really embarrassing yourself right now," she stated bluntly, returning her attention casually to her book.

Flash opened his mouth to respond, clearly flustered, but Happy quickly interrupted before he could.

"Alright, moving on!" Happy called loudly, gesturing impatiently toward the next exhibit. "We still have a lot to see."

Peter felt a tiny bit of relief as Flash was forced to follow along silently, though his anxiety only grew as they continued deeper into Stark Tower. With every passing moment, they were closer to crossing paths with the Avengers—and, of course, with you.

The group turned the corner, approaching another expansive hall. Happy motioned toward the collection of Captain America’s shields mounted on the walls.

"And here," Happy said flatly, "you'll see the various prototypes and completed designs for Captain America's shield—vibranium alloy, nearly indestructible, and incredibly dangerous when wielded by literally anyone else."

The class laughed softly, admiring the impressive display. MJ glanced casually at Peter, raising an eyebrow with mock seriousness. "Cap's still your favorite Avenger, right?"

Peter chuckled nervously, shrugging slightly. "Uh, I dunno… they're all pretty cool."

Ned rolled his eyes dramatically, nudging Peter again. "Come on, dude. We all know your favorite Avenger."

MJ smirked knowingly. "Y/N doesn't count."

Peter flushed bright red immediately, stammering awkwardly. "I—I mean—she’s not technically an Avenger, so—"

"Uh-huh," MJ replied flatly, returning her focus calmly to the displays.

Flash scoffed softly from behind, overhearing their conversation. "Please. Like Parker even knows Y/N Stark. He probably doesn't even know what she looks like."

Peter's cheeks grew even redder, fists clenching nervously at his sides. Ned quickly placed a reassuring hand on Peter’s shoulder, shaking his head slightly.

"Just ignore him," Ned murmured softly, eyes sympathetic.

MJ rolled her eyes dramatically, glancing back at Peter calmly. "Seriously, Parker, you need better taste in friends."

Peter smiled weakly, trying not to let Flash’s words get under his skin. But as the tour continued, he felt increasingly anxious, dreading the inevitable moment you’d show up and his carefully guarded secret would be spectacularly shattered.

The class moved forward again, following Happy toward another part of the exhibit hall. Ned continued chattering excitedly, pointing out different displays to Peter, who smiled and nodded distractedly, heart racing anxiously in his chest.

As Happy stopped once more in front of a display case showcasing Hawkeye's various trick arrows, Flash loudly cleared his throat again, arms crossed smugly.

"Honestly," Flash announced loudly, addressing the entire class dramatically, "I'm surprised Stark even has this many Hawkeye arrows on display. I mean, he's basically useless compared to literally anyone else."

Peter frowned slightly, jaw tightening again in annoyance. He knew Clint well enough to appreciate just how skilled and important he truly was.

MJ, however, remained unimpressed, tilting her head calmly toward Flash. "You know Hawkeye could probably take you down with a single paperclip, right?"

Flash scoffed arrogantly, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, right. The guy shoots arrows for a living. Big deal."

From just behind Flash, a familiar voice suddenly spoke, casual but amused. "Actually, paperclips are a little boring. Give me some dental floss and a rubber band—now that's interesting."

Flash turned quickly, eyes wide with shock as he realized Clint Barton himself had silently walked up behind him, a mug of coffee in hand and a relaxed, amused smile on his face.

"Oh—um," Flash stammered awkwardly, cheeks flushing with embarrassment as the entire class watched eagerly. "I—I didn’t mean—"

Clint chuckled softly, taking a casual sip of his coffee. "Relax, kid. No offense taken."

MJ smirked faintly, clearly entertained by Flash’s embarrassment. "Nice save, Flash."

Clint turned his gaze casually toward Peter, eyes sparkling knowingly. "Hey, Pete. Good to see you."

Peter flushed immediately, suddenly aware of everyone's eyes on him. He quickly waved nervously, voice slightly strained. "Uh, hey, Clint."

Flash stared wide-eyed, completely speechless now, as Clint simply nodded, clearly entertained. "Enjoy the tour, kids. Try not to break anything."

With that, Clint casually continued down the hallway, leaving stunned silence behind him.

MJ looked pointedly at Flash, raising an amused eyebrow. "Still think he's useless?"

Flash remained silent, cheeks burning with embarrassment as he quickly averted his gaze.

Peter exhaled slowly, heart still pounding anxiously in his chest. He glanced nervously toward the door, knowing that with Clint’s appearance, it was only a matter of time before the others arrived—and before you showed up and inevitably turned his entire world upside down.

And that moment came sooner than expected. As Happy led the class to the end of the exhibit hall, Vision phased through the wall, looking politely inquisitive as he hovered just slightly above the ground. "Ah, Mr. Hogan. I need to know where there’s extra sugar. Y/N asked for tea, and I'm 0.05 grams short."

Happy took another deep, exhausted breath, closing his eyes briefly in annoyance. "Vision, you're literally a supercomputer. Can’t you calculate your way to the pantry?"

Vision tilted his head thoughtfully. "I did, indeed. However, the pantry appears to have been relocated to accommodate Thor’s snack preferences. This requires manual intervention."

From the back of the group, Flash practically squeaked, whispering excitedly to the person beside him, "Holy crap, that’s Vision! Actual Vision!"

MJ glanced sideways at Flash, deadpan as always. "You sure? Might just be some other floating, vibranium-infused android phasing through walls."

Flash glared at her, crossing his arms tightly. "Shut up."

Peter swallowed nervously, feeling Ned elbowing him excitedly in the side. "Dude, this is literally the coolest day of my entire life."

"Yeah," Peter mumbled, feeling anxiety bubble up again at the mention of your name. His heart pounded quicker, wondering if this was the start of your inevitable appearance.

The elevators at the end of the hall opened as Wanda walked out. “Vis, you didn’t need to come all the way down here for sugar. I had found a new bag underneath the sink right when you left.”

“Yes,” Happy said, “thank you, Wanda. And Vision, I doubt Y/N would notice a difference if you were 0.05 grams short.”

Vision tilted his head thoughtfully, completely unfazed by the class of teenagers staring at him. "I suppose. But as she tells me, I make it perfect every time. I'd rather not disappoint her."

Wanda smiled softly, gently placing a reassuring hand on his arm. "Trust me, Vis, Y/N will survive a slightly imperfect cup of tea."

From somewhere behind Peter, Flash whispered excitedly to his friend, voice shaking with awe. "Dude—Scarlet Witch too? This is literally the best day of my entire existence."

MJ glanced sideways, raising an unimpressed eyebrow. "I'm glad witnessing you reach the peak of your existence is just as disappointing as I imagined, Flash."

Ned elbowed Peter again, practically bouncing in place. "This is insane, Pete! Wanda, Vision—who's next? Black Panther? Captain Marvel?"

Peter chuckled nervously, shifting anxiously on his feet. "Let's hope not."

Happy sighed deeply, giving Vision and Wanda a pointed look. "Alright, could you two maybe move this conversation somewhere else? I'm trying to give an educational tour here."

Vision nodded politely, still hovering just slightly above the ground. "Of course, Mr. Hogan. My apologies. We shall return upstairs."

"Thanks," Happy muttered flatly, clearly counting down the seconds until his tour guide duty ended.

Wanda turned her attention curiously to the class, smiling warmly as she noticed Peter. "Oh, Peter! Hi. How's the tour going?"

Peter flushed again immediately, awkwardly waving at her while feeling every single pair of eyes in the room shift to stare at him. "Uh, hi, Wanda. It's going good, thanks."

Flash stared wide-eyed at Peter, visibly baffled. "Wait—Parker knows Wanda Maximoff? What?"

MJ didn't look up from her book, lips quirking slightly. "If you'd listened to literally anything Peter said in the last two years, Flash, this wouldn't be surprising."

Flash opened his mouth to argue, cheeks flushed, but Wanda simply smiled gently, clearly amused by the drama she'd accidentally caused. "Well, I'll let you get back to it. Have fun, everyone."

With a polite nod, Wanda and Vision left quietly, leaving another stunned silence in their wake.

Mr. Harrington took a shaky breath, clearly overwhelmed by the day's surprises. "Well, this is certainly more exciting than I anticipated. Mr. Hogan, should we continue?"

"Please," Happy agreed impatiently, already walking ahead. "Next up is our robotics lab. Follow closely."

As the class began moving again, Flash stepped quickly beside Peter, clearly desperate for answers. "Okay, Parker, what's going on? First Clint Barton, now Wanda Maximoff knows you? How?"

Peter shrugged awkwardly, avoiding eye contact as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh, I mean—I told you, I work here. I'm an intern."

Flash shook his head skeptically, narrowing his eyes. "No way. There's gotta be something else."

MJ sighed dryly, clearly losing patience with Flash's stubborn disbelief. "Yeah, Flash, it's almost like Peter has an actual life outside of school. Wild concept, I know."

Flash huffed irritably, quickly walking ahead of them with a muttered, "Whatever."

Ned snickered softly, grinning at Peter triumphantly. "Finally! Flash has no idea what's coming next."

"Yeah," Peter chuckled weakly, heart racing anxiously again as he glanced around nervously, half-expecting you to pop out at any moment. "I'm terrified."

MJ smirked knowingly, nudging him gently. "Relax, Parker. This is honestly the best entertainment I've had in weeks."

They entered the robotics lab, a spacious room filled with advanced machinery, holographic interfaces, and several scientists and engineers quietly working at various stations.

Flash immediately rushed toward a particularly impressive robotic arm on display, eyes wide with awe. "Whoa, check this out! Do you think it's remote-controlled or something?"

Happy shot Flash an annoyed glare. "No. And again, Thompson—don't touch."

Flash quickly withdrew his hands, sheepishly stepping back again.

Peter lingered nervously near the doorway, fingers twitching anxiously at his sides. He glanced around the familiar lab, memories of working alongside you and Tony flooding his mind.

"Peter!" Bruce's cheerful voice suddenly called from across the room, causing Peter to jump slightly. Bruce walked over quickly, smiling warmly as he adjusted his glasses. "Good to see you, kid."

The class immediately quieted again, eyes once more shifting curiously toward Peter.

Peter flushed again, offering Bruce a shy, awkward wave. "Hi, Dr. Banner."

Bruce chuckled lightly, gently squeezing Peter's shoulder reassuringly. "You nervous?"

Peter forced a small laugh, scratching his neck nervously. "A little."

Flash stared open-mouthed, clearly unable to process yet another Avenger casually acknowledging Peter's existence. "This is not happening."

MJ smirked faintly, casually flipping another page in her book. "Honestly, Flash, your denial at this point is almost impressive."

Bruce glanced curiously at Flash, tilting his head slightly. "Is everything alright?"

Ned eagerly jumped in before Flash could respond, grinning broadly. "Flash just can't handle the fact that Peter actually interns here. He's been convinced Peter's lying for two years."

Bruce raised his eyebrows, clearly amused as he glanced back at Peter. "Really? Two whole years, huh? That's dedication."

Peter smiled weakly, shrugging again. "Yeah, it's been… interesting."

Bruce chuckled again, patting Peter reassuringly on the shoulder. "Well, don't let them get to you. You're brilliant, Peter."

"Thanks, Dr. Banner," Peter murmured shyly, cheeks pink again.

Flash stood completely silent, glaring at the floor in embarrassed frustration. Ned and MJ exchanged amused looks, clearly enjoying the drama unfolding.

Bruce smiled warmly again before giving Happy a quick nod. "Alright, I'll let you guys get back to the tour. Enjoy yourselves."

As Bruce returned to his workstation, Mr. Harrington cleared his throat nervously, trying to regain control. "Thank you, Dr. Banner. Class, shall we keep moving?"

Flash walked ahead quietly, clearly still stewing in confusion and embarrassment. MJ smirked triumphantly, looking pointedly at Peter. "See, Parker? Told you today would be entertaining."

Peter chuckled softly, still anxious but slightly less tense now. "Yeah, you're definitely right about that."

---

Lunch finally rolled around as the group was led to the mess hall, which was filled with at least a dozen small restaurants and cafes. The students murmured excitedly, marveling at the sprawling array of choices.

"No way," Ned breathed in awe, looking around eagerly. "They literally have everything. Pizza, sushi, burgers… is that a taco stand?"

Peter chuckled softly, his nerves easing slightly as he watched his friend practically vibrate with excitement. "Yeah, Mr. Stark doesn't really do subtle."

MJ raised an amused eyebrow, smirking faintly. "Gee, I couldn't tell. It's not like we've spent all morning touring through his personal Disneyland."

Flash scowled slightly from across the table, clearly still irritated by the earlier embarrassment. He crossed his arms defensively. "Big deal. My dad's company cafeteria has pretty much all the same stuff."

MJ tilted her head calmly, unimpressed. "Yeah, but I'm guessing your dad's cafeteria isn't visited by literal superheroes."

Ned snorted quietly, quickly covering his mouth as Flash's face reddened again with annoyance.

Peter shifted anxiously in his seat, scanning the room carefully. He could feel the familiar flutter of nerves again, anticipation building in his chest. He knew you'd be coming by—he just wasn't sure when.

"Dude," Ned whispered, leaning toward Peter eagerly, eyes darting around the bustling space. "Where's Y/N? She said she was bringing you lunch, right?"

"Yeah," Peter admitted quietly, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "Maybe she's running late. Or forgot."

MJ rolled her eyes, clearly unbothered as she calmly continued sketching in her notebook. "Parker, you're literally dating the human equivalent of a supercomputer. She didn't forget."

Peter flushed faintly, smiling shyly. "Yeah, you're right."

From nearby, Flash turned sharply, overhearing the tail-end of the conversation. He leaned toward them, voice thick with disbelief and mockery. "Wait, hold up. Did you just imply Parker's dating Y/N Stark?"

Peter swallowed nervously, looking away quickly. "Uh—"

MJ calmly met Flash's skeptical glare. "Do you need a dictionary to understand basic English, Thompson? I thought it was clear."

Flash scoffed loudly, folding his arms with an arrogant smirk. "That's hilarious, even for Parker. There's no way Stark's daughter would look twice at him."

Peter clenched his fists tightly beneath the table, irritation flickering in his eyes. Before he could reply, a familiar voice rang out clearly across the crowded mess hall.

"Peter!" your voice called happily from near the doors. Peter's head snapped up quickly, and he felt his heart skip anxiously as you stepped through the busy cafeteria, smiling brightly and holding two bags in your hands. "Sorry I'm late! Dad wouldn't stop talking about something I was working on, and—"

Your voice trailed off when you noticed everyone staring at you, a hush of surprised whispers quickly spreading through the crowd. You hesitated slightly, your cheeks burning as you realized the entire Midtown High class was openly gaping at you—Flash included.

Peter swallowed nervously, heart hammering in his chest as he slowly stood up, forcing a shy, awkward smile as he walked toward you. "Hey, Y/N."

Your eyes softened immediately at the sight of him, relaxing visibly as your lips curved into a gentle smile. "Hey, Pete."

Flash stared open-mouthed, frozen in shock, his voice coming out as a stunned squeak. "No freaking way."

You glanced sideways at Flash, arching an unimpressed eyebrow at his disbelief before turning your attention fully back to Peter. You held out one of the lunch bags, offering a sheepish smile. "I brought your favorite sandwich from Deluca's. And some cookies Wanda and I made last night."

Peter relaxed slightly, unable to suppress his shy grin as he gently took the bag from you. "Thanks. You're the best."

You smiled warmly, reaching out to gently squeeze his hand. "Obviously."

Behind him, Ned coughed pointedly, grinning eagerly as he waved at you. "Hi, Y/N!"

You chuckled softly, stepping around Peter and walking over to greet Ned and MJ warmly. "Hey, Ned. MJ."

MJ nodded calmly, lips quirking faintly. "Nice entrance."

You laughed softly, glancing around the cafeteria again with mild embarrassment. "Yeah, that wasn't exactly intentional."

Flash finally found his voice again, sputtering incredulously. "Hold up. You're seriously dating Parker?"

You glanced over at Flash, raising your eyebrows calmly. "You say that like it's surprising. We've been dating for a year."

Flash gaped openly, completely baffled. "But—but he's Parker! How?"

MJ tilted her head casually, voice dry and deadpan. "Generally, Flash, people date because they like each other. I know, shocking concept."

Peter flushed faintly, gently nudging your side as he leaned in closer. "I'm so sorry."

You grinned mischievously, eyes sparkling playfully as you glanced back at Peter. "Why? This is kind of fun."

Ned chuckled softly, shaking his head fondly. "You're terrifying sometimes, Y/N."

MJ smirked knowingly, still sketching calmly in her notebook. "That's why I like her."

You laughed lightly again, quickly leaning in to press a gentle kiss against Peter's cheek, making his blush deepen even further. "Anyway, enjoy your lunch. I'll see you after the tour?"

Peter nodded shyly, smiling softly at you. "Yeah, definitely."

Flash opened his mouth again, clearly still confused, but Happy suddenly appeared near your shoulder, arms crossed impatiently. "Alright, kids. As amusing as this drama is, lunch break's almost over. Finish eating, and we'll continue the tour."

You smiled sheepishly, giving Peter one final, affectionate glance. "See you soon, Pete."

Peter smiled warmly, heart fluttering softly as he watched you walk away. "See you."

As you disappeared down the hallway, Flash shook his head, muttering softly, "This is literally the weirdest day of my entire life."

MJ didn't look up from her book, casually replying, "Glad I was here to see it."

Ned grinned broadly, happily returning to his sandwich. "Me too."

Peter sighed quietly, finally relaxing fully into his seat again. He carefully opened the lunch bag you'd brought, smiling fondly when he saw his favorite sandwich and cookies neatly packed inside.

"You good, Parker?" MJ asked calmly, glancing up from her book briefly.

Peter smiled softly, feeling warmth spread through his chest as he nodded gently. "Yeah, I'm great."

From across the table, Flash silently stared at Peter for several more moments, clearly processing everything he'd witnessed before finally clearing his throat awkwardly. "So, um—do you, like, know Tony Stark, then?"

MJ rolled her eyes slightly, shaking her head with a faint sigh. "Flash, seriously."

Peter chuckled softly, finally feeling a little more confident. He glanced calmly toward Flash, shrugging lightly. "Yeah, Flash. I work with him pretty regularly."

Flash sat back heavily in his chair, looking thoroughly humbled. "Wow. That's… that's really cool."

MJ smirked faintly, muttering quietly enough for only Peter and Ned to hear. "And it only took two years to get through to him."

Peter smiled shyly, shaking his head slightly. "Better late than never, right?"

Ned chuckled warmly, raising his sandwich slightly in a mock-toast. "To Peter Parker—Stark Industries intern, Spider-Man, and boyfriend of Y/N freaking Stark. Dude, your life is insane."

Peter laughed softly, feeling a content warmth spread through him as he took a bite of his sandwich. "Yeah. It definitely is."

---

The rest of lunch passed quickly, and soon Happy returned to gather the students again. He stood at the head of the table, hands on his hips, clearly eager to finish his unofficial tour guide duties.

"Alright," Happy announced gruffly, looking around impatiently at the group. "Lunch break's over. Everyone, up. We're heading up to the R&D floors next."

Ned quickly stuffed the last of his sandwich into his mouth, scrambling to his feet eagerly. "R&D floors? Oh, man, I can't wait to see that!"

MJ calmly put away her sketchbook, casting Peter an amused look. "Try not to pass out from excitement, Leeds."

Flash lingered quietly near the back of the group, clearly still subdued by the earlier revelations. He offered Peter a small, somewhat awkward nod of acknowledgement as he passed by, clearly at a loss for how to handle the newfound information.

Peter smiled faintly, feeling slightly bad for Flash despite everything. He offered a small, friendly nod back before following the group toward the elevators.

As they gathered around the elevator, Ned practically bounced in place. "Dude, the R&D floors must be where all the top-secret stuff happens, right? Like experimental suits and nanotech?"

Peter chuckled quietly, nodding slightly. "Yeah, Mr. Stark keeps most of his really cool inventions there."

Happy ushered them inside impatiently, quickly pressing the button for one of the upper floors. "Stay close, please. And for the love of everything, do not touch anything."

The elevator doors opened, and the class stepped out into a large, open area filled with workstations, holographic projections, and advanced machinery. Several engineers moved around busily, immersed in various tasks and experiments.

Ned stared wide-eyed, quickly glancing at Peter in excitement. "This is so freaking cool!"

MJ arched an eyebrow slightly, looking mildly impressed despite herself. "I'll admit, this actually is impressive."

Flash stayed quiet, eyes carefully scanning the room, clearly wary of embarrassing himself further.

Happy cleared his throat, motioning toward one of the larger workstations. "Here at Stark Industries, our engineers develop cutting-edge technology daily. Everything from advanced energy solutions to prototype armor upgrades are created in this very room."

From the far side of the room, Tony Stark himself suddenly appeared, clearly engrossed in conversation with a technician. The class collectively froze, whispering excitedly as they recognized him.

"Dude," Ned whispered loudly, grabbing Peter's arm excitedly. "That's literally Tony Stark. He's right there!"

Peter smiled slightly, feeling his face flush again. "Yeah, Ned. I've seen him before."

Flash watched nervously, clearly intimidated. "Wow, it's really him. Like, Iron Man himself."

MJ sighed softly, rolling her eyes. "Congratulations, Flash, you have functioning eyes."

Tony glanced up briefly, eyebrows raised slightly as he noticed the group of teenagers staring at him. His lips quirked faintly in amusement as he spotted Peter, stepping closer casually.

"Peter," Tony greeted calmly, eyes sparkling knowingly. "How's the tour going? Still alive?"

Peter smiled weakly, scratching his neck shyly. "Barely, Mr. Stark."

Flash stared wide-eyed, completely silent again, visibly stunned.

Tony turned slightly, addressing the group with an amused smirk. "Hello, Midtown students. Hope you’ve been treating Peter nicely. I’d hate to revoke your guest privileges."

Peter bit his lip nervously, quickly shaking his head. "They're fine, Mr. Stark. Really."

Tony nodded casually, glancing back at Flash knowingly. "Good. Because someone around here owes my daughter an apology."

Flash flushed brightly, quickly looking away in embarrassment.

MJ smirked faintly, clearly entertained. "Nice going, Thompson."

Tony chuckled lightly, patting Peter gently on the shoulder. "Anyway, I’ll leave you all to it. Try not to break anything expensive."

"Yes, sir," Peter murmured quietly, cheeks flushed but unable to hide a small smile.

Tony gave a casual wave, already moving back toward his workstation. "Enjoy the rest of the tour."

As Tony walked away, Flash looked toward Peter sheepishly, clearing his throat awkwardly. "Hey, um—sorry for… you know, everything."

Peter smiled faintly, shrugging lightly. "It's fine, Flash."

MJ arched a calm eyebrow, offering Peter an amused glance. "You're too nice, Parker."

Peter chuckled softly, shaking his head slightly. "Yeah, probably."

Happy cleared his throat impatiently, motioning toward another workstation. "Alright, moving along. Lots to see, people."

They soon made their way to the Avengers gym. Through the soundproof glass they could see Natasha practicing her shooting, Bucky cleaning his metal arm, Steve hitting a boxing bag, and Sam and Clint preparing their own weapons.

“—well, Tony supposedly improved my exploding arrows.”

“Yeah, well he also upgraded Redwing.” Sam countered.

Clint narrowed his eyes at the mention of Redwing. "Look, Wilson, we all know Tony loves his robots, but arrows take precision and skill."

Sam scoffed, checking over his wrist controls with a confident smirk. "Oh, please. You can’t even hit a target without your fancy exploding arrows."

Clint frowned, quickly grabbing an arrow and notching it firmly. "I bet I hit my mark faster than you can get that toy of yours airborne."

Sam grinned sharply, raising his wrist confidently. "Deal, Barton. Count of three?"

"You're on," Clint shot back, aiming carefully at the target. "One... two... three!"

He fired the arrow, watching proudly as it sailed perfectly into the bullseye. But nothing happened. The arrow simply embedded itself, utterly anticlimactic.

Sam laughed loudly, shaking his head. "Well done, Barton. That’s impressive."

Clint stared incredulously at his arrow. "What the—these were fine yesterday! Stark must’ve given me defective ones."

Bucky snorted softly from nearby, polishing his metal arm casually. "Pretty sure Tony doesn't make anything defective."

Clint shot him an annoyed glare. "Yeah, well, I guess today’s his first."

"Watch and learn," Sam said confidently, activating Redwing from his wrist pad. The drone immediately sprang to life, hovering briefly in the air—before suddenly sputtering out with a pitiful beep and dropping uselessly to the ground.

Bucky raised an amused eyebrow, smirking faintly. "Problem, Sam?"

Sam stared open-mouthed at Redwing, quickly fiddling with the controls in frustration. "Aw, come on, not you too! Redwing was perfectly fine this morning!"

Clint rolled his eyes, quickly grabbing another arrow from his quiver, carefully examining it with suspicion. "Maybe the lab just had a glitch or something."

Steve paused his boxing practice, turning to watch them curiously. "You sure you two aren’t doing something wrong?"

Clint scoffed, rolling his shoulders irritably. "I've literally been doing this for decades, Steve. I think I know how to shoot an arrow."

"Alright," Sam announced, tapping at his controls again with determination. "Let's try this again."

"Second time’s the charm," Clint agreed dryly, pulling back his bowstring confidently. "Ready, Wilson?"

"Do it," Sam replied sharply, flicking his wrist pad once more.

Clint released his arrow just as Sam activated Redwing again—and chaos immediately erupted.

The arrow exploded dramatically with a loud pop, showering Clint in a thick cloud of bright, glittery red powder. At precisely the same moment, Sam’s wrist pad burst open, coating him in an identical sparkling mess.

Clint yelped loudly, stumbling backward as glitter settled over his hair, clothes, and face. "What the—oh, no, no, no! What is this stuff?"

Sam sputtered furiously, shaking his wrist uselessly and only spreading glitter further across his shirt. "Oh, you gotta be kidding me—Stark!"

Bucky started laughing immediately, clutching his sides as he watched Clint frantically try to wipe the glitter off, only succeeding in smearing it deeper into his clothes. "I stand corrected. Maybe Tony does make defective gear—on purpose."

Steve chuckled softly, shaking his head in disbelief. "You two might wanna clean that up before—"

"Too late," Natasha chimed in smoothly from across the room, carefully reloading her weapon with an amused smirk. "I warned you both about letting Thor and Loki visit Y/N."

Clint stopped his frantic glitter-rubbing, eyes narrowing suspiciously at Natasha. "Wait. You knew about this?"

She shrugged innocently, lips twitching upward. "Maybe."

Sam groaned dramatically, dropping his head back in annoyance. "Great. Loki glitter."

Natasha nodded knowingly, offering a small, sympathetic smile. "Sorry, boys. But I did warn you—multiple times."

Clint threw his hands up in exasperation, sending a fresh cloud of glitter into the air. "Why do we keep trusting Y/N when Thor and Loki are involved? Have we learned nothing?"

Bucky smirked faintly, leaning back comfortably in his seat. "Apparently not."

---

Outside the soundproof glass of the gym, Peter’s entire class stared in wide-eyed disbelief, clearly stunned by the spectacle they'd just witnessed.

Ned turned slowly toward Peter, whispering in awe. "Dude, that was the single greatest thing I've ever seen."

Peter shook his head slightly, trying not to smile as he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Yeah. Definitely a Y/N special."

Flash blinked rapidly, clearly still processing everything. "Wait, hold on. Y/N did that?"

MJ raised an eyebrow calmly, clearly entertained. "If you'd ever actually met her, you'd know that's practically her signature."

Peter chuckled softly, finally relaxing slightly as he nodded. "Yeah, she’s, uh... really into glitter-based revenge."

Flash let out a small, disbelieving laugh, shaking his head again. "This day just keeps getting weirder."

MJ smirked slightly, lips quirking upward in amusement. "Best day ever."

---

Inside the gym, Clint desperately tried wiping glitter from his face again, glaring toward the window suspiciously. "I swear, if Y/N is out there filming this—"

Bucky laughed again, shaking his head fondly. "Oh, I'm sure she’s got at least three different angles recorded by now."

Sam groaned loudly again, slumping down in defeat. "This glitter’s never coming off, is it?"

Natasha shrugged lightly, clearly unbothered. "Loki’s magic glitter? Probably not for days."

Steve smiled faintly, turning back to his boxing bag with an amused shake of his head. "Maybe next time, you'll both think twice before messing with Y/N."

Clint sighed dramatically, glaring down at his glitter-coated clothes. "Lesson officially learned. Never again."

Bucky chuckled knowingly, leaning back comfortably. "We both know that's a lie, Barton."

---

Happy turned from the gym window with an exhausted sigh, rubbing his temples tiredly. "Alright, kids, show's over. Let's move along before they decide to drag us into this glitter war."

Peter smiled faintly, glancing back once more at the glitter-covered scene inside the gym before following Ned and MJ down the hallway.

Flash walked quietly beside him, clearly still processing everything he'd witnessed. After a long moment, he finally spoke, voice hesitant. "Hey, Parker? Uh, your life is really weird."

Peter laughed softly, nodding gently. "Yeah. You have no idea."

Ned grinned broadly, nudging Peter playfully. "Best day ever, man. Best. Day. Ever."

MJ sighed dramatically, casually flipping open her sketchbook again. "Let's hope glitter removal isn't contagious."

Peter smiled warmly, finally feeling fully relaxed for the first time all day. Despite the chaos and embarrassment, he had to admit—today was definitely turning out better than he'd expected.

---

Back in your lab, you sat back happily, giggling softly as you watched the live footage on your tablet—Sam and Clint still frantically rubbing at the endless glitter.

Tony walked casually into the room, raising an eyebrow knowingly when he noticed your mischievous expression. "Let me guess—glitter?"

You grinned innocently, turning your tablet around to show him proudly. "Magic glitter. Loki’s specialty."

Tony laughed warmly, shaking his head fondly. "Nice touch, kid."

You beamed proudly, giggling again as you glanced back at the glitter-filled chaos. "Best prank yet."

Tony chuckled softly, squeezing your shoulder gently. "Just promise you'll give them a break tomorrow?"

You tilted your head thoughtfully, smirking slightly. "We'll see."

Tony smiled fondly, rolling his eyes warmly. "Alright, evil genius. I’ll leave you to it."

You grinned mischievously again, settling back comfortably in your chair. "Thanks, Dad."

As Tony walked away, you returned your attention happily to the glittery chaos on your tablet, already mentally planning your next prank. Life in Stark Tower was certainly never boring—and you wouldn't have it any other way.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #spiderman x reader #spiderman x you #spiderman x y/n #reader is tony stark's daughter #peter parker goes on a field trip to stark industries #avengers fix-it fic #avengers #iron man #tony stark #spiderman #peter parker’s field trip to stark industries #abby's works ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

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bizarrelovetriangel · 30 days ago

Text

company.

they're busy with something so you decided to give them some company, along with a little motivation to finish faster.

mdni. 18+ only. cockwarming. that's it that's the plot.

- sylus -

He has a new fancy toy that he'd won from an auction, and now you have a rival that you must fight for his attention. At the moment, you're absolutely not winning.

Sylus is polishing a gun while admiring every aspect of it, his eyes practically twinkling with excitement.

You're starting to get impatient and maybe just a little jealous. After all, he promised you that you'd watch a movie together once he's done.

It wouldn't hurt to give him some... encouragement to hurry up, right?

and so, you sat on his lap.

"What are you doing?"

Sylus questions you despite doing absolutely nothing to stop you from taking a seat on his thighs. In fact, he welcomed you by opening his arms wider just so you could have more space to be more comfortable.

"Nothing, just wanna watch you assemble~"

He took note of your tone and immediately grew suspicious. "What are you scheming, kitten?"

"Nothing, I said." you grabbed his chin and gently nudged his face so that his gaze returns to the disassembled gun on the desk in front of him. "Don't let me distract you. Just pretend I'm not here."

He narrowed his eyes at you for a second before continuing his work, humming a song and bopping his head while doing so.

You smiled as you listened to him, beaming his reflection on the shiny silver gun.

You leaned forward closer to the surface of the desk so that you could get a better look at the details of the weapon that he's so infatuated with.

You shifted your weight a little to the left so you could study the complex engravings at a better angle.

After moving around to observe the other angles, you realized that it's most likely part of a vintage collection. Its charm is indeed worth all the money that Sylus casually spent it on.

"...Enjoying yourself, sweetie?"

For a moment, you'd forgotten why you were there in the first place. It wasn't until you heard a grunt from behind you that you were reminded of your little evil plan.

"I am, actually."

As you replied, you subtly pressed down your ass against his crotch, earning a sharp breath out of him.

Sylus paused on polishing his weapon.

"What's wrong?" you asked, feigning innocence. "You still have a lot of parts to polish. Hurry up already."

"If you need something from me, don't hesitate to ask." he tells you in a low voice, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "I'd gladly give you want you want."

"No no, it's fine. You should finish what you started. You said you want to use it tomorrow, right?" you waved a hand dismissively. "I want to watch you polish and assemble this. Like I said, just pretend I'm not here."

Sylus shook his head, already catching on to your grand plan.

But he's absolutely not complaining.

You sitting on his lap while he fiddles with his new weapon? It's certainly not the worst thing in the world. He doesn't mind multitasking.

Taking advantage of your gracious offer, Sylus proceeds with his work.

You continued to grind against him, doing your best to be subtle.

It wasn't long until your seat becomes uncomfortable due to a stiffened bulge in his pants.

His warm, ragged breath hits your neck as he takes a moment to collect himself, hands slightly wavering as he puts down his tools before reaching for you.

One hand settled on your stomach while the other caressed your right thigh. As you leaned back against his chest, you were surpised as he captured your lips with his.

Your right hand went up to his jaw to keep him in place as you kissed him back with twice the force, inviting him to meet your tongue.

He groans inside your mouth as your ass once again brushed against his clothed cock, twitching and demanding for your attention — so you give him what he wants.

You unzip his pants and stroke him through his boxers, emitting a moan out of his parted lips. Sylus pulled away from you and rested his forehead against your own, briefly brushing his nose against yours.

"Should we take this somewhere else?"

His eyes caught the grin that appeared on your face and he just knew no good would come out of your pretty mouth.

"But you still have to finish fixing your gun. Just....keep going..." you pressed a soft kiss underneath his jaw. "I'll...keep you company."

Sylus knew exactly what you meant when your hand tightly wrapped around his cock, now leaking with desire for you.

As if in a trance, he watched you pull down your shorts up to your knees and moved your panty aside before brushing his cock against your folds.

His hold on your thigh had become tighter as soon as you fully took him inside you once you sat back down on his lap. Sylus closed his eyes and lightly nipped your shoulder to suppress a groan out of pleasure.

Even though this feels like some sort of punishment, he'll be lying if he says he's not enjoying it. As long as it's you, he'll gladly do anything you want and take anything that you offer.

Returning your grin, Sylus redirected his focus on his weapon. If he wants to move in the bedroom and properly take you, he has to work faster.

But it was a lot more difficult than he realized.

Sylus can't help but thrust into you as he became desperate for friction.

You're squeezing him so tightly.

He needed to move so badly.

"Sweetie...." beads of sweat appeared on his forehead and neck. "Are you sure you're comfortable here? Wouldn't you want to move somewhere else?"

"I'm fine."

Of course you aren't fine.

You're just as impatient as him, and it's taking all of your energy to appear nonchalant just like he is. You've become so wet that you're oozing out even with his cock in you.

But you really did want him to finish polishing his gun now so that you can have the rest of his time.

"Just hurry up already."

Sylus almost laughed at how whiny yet demanding you sounded just now. He would've teased you if only he wasn't just as needy.

All he could do was nod and rush his work, while simultaneously making sure the quality of his weapon is sufficient.

After polishing every piece, Sylus expertly put everything together. He might've slowed down once or twice as you'd clench his cock and his vision would blur as he'd lose his focus, but he managed to power through until the end.

And once you finally made it to his bedroom, Sylus' patience ran out as soon as the door was shut and locked.

He gently nudges you against the door and kisses you deeply while his hands caresses your body. He unbuttons and unzips his pants before pulling it down along with his boxers to reveal his reddened cock that's even bigger and harder now than before.

You eagerly got rid of your shorts and underwear. Before you could remove your shirt, Sylus latched back into you, spreading your legs and wrapping your thighs around his hips before thrusting back and forth.

Noticing the loud noises that the door would make as he pounds into you, he took a few steps back from it before bouncing you up and down his cock.

You cry out with pleasure, throwing your head back as he hits the deepest part of you, over and over again, making your insides clench and pulsate.

He lightly sinks his teeth into the nape of your neck as he reaches his climax, with heavy cum spilling out of you and staining the floor.

Your own release followed a few seconds later, soaking his thighs as he brings you over to his bed. He positions himself between your legs, aligning his mouth in the middle of your thighs.

"Since you were so thoughtful in giving me company while I worked...." he pauses to playfully flick your forehead. "I'm yours for the rest of the night."

- zayne -

Poor Docctor Zayne is stuck in his home office, finishing up a report for his latest research project.

You also have a report to do for the Association, so you decided to join him just so he could have company. After all, you haven't seen each other for two days now.

"Zayne, I got you some snacks."

As you arrived, you set some food and drink on a separate table specifically used for snack breaks.

Zayne's eyes lights up as soon as you walked in. He grabbed your hand and pulled you down so that he could give you a kiss on the lips.

"Is it okay if I join you here? I also have work to do." Being around Zayne might motivate you to finish faster, or at least procrastinate less than you usually do.

"Of course."

It's not the first time you worked with him in his office, so there's an extra chair just for you to use; however, Zayne realized just now how far away it is from him.

It's placed behind his other desk that he rarely uses, perpendicular from the one he's currently using.

Not even five minutes after you started typing, Zayne called out your name.

"Why are you sitting so far away? Scared I'll look at your screen? I promise I won't copy from you."

You laughed and scooted your chair next to his. "I don't mind letting you copy from me, Doctor Zayne."

Soon, the two of you fell in a comfortable silence except for the sounds of your fingers clicking against the keyboard, as well as the pages of Zayne's books being turned occasionally.

Sometimes, you'd mumble something as you're typing, and Zayne would smile in amusement, fond of the way you're fully immersed in your work.

After a decent amount of time has passed, you cheer as you concluded your report. "All I have to do is edit it for the final draft!" you got up to stretch and stopped in front of Zayne. "What about you? Still have a lot to do?"

"I'm almost done as well. Just reviewing a reference before I get to my last page."

Zayne pauses from his work as he noticed how close you are.

He rested his hands on your waist, urging you to face him. "Why don't you move a little closer?"

"Huh? But my chair's already right next to yours—"

He then gently nudged you forward and adjusted your legs so that you're sitting on his lap and facing the computer.

"Let's just stay like this for a while."

You softened as Zayne embraced you from behind and rested his chin on your shoulder. He took your laptop and placed it right next to his so that you two can continue your work.

You suppressed a smile, realizing that he wants cuddles.

You'll never deny cuddles from him.

"Okay!"

About halfway through editing your report, you realizes that there was something hard growing behind you.

"Zayne..."

You look over your shoulder and spotted his flushed expression, with his red ears being the biggest giveaway.

"...sorry, I was just — "

He couldn't help himself.

Having you so close...

His mind started to wander not long after you sat on him. Images of the last time you were on his thighs flashed through his head, and his body reacted immediately.

"No need to apologize."

You run a hand down from his chest and down to his crotch. Zayne closed his eyes and sighs softly as you palm him through his pants.

Then, your hands come to a halt and he gives you a concerned, questioning look.

"You still need to finish your work."

He chuckles and shakes his head. "You're right. Can't get distracted..."

You grinned at the disappointment that briefly flashed through his eyes. "I'll just... make you feel good while you work, so stay focused, okay?"

"Wha — nggnnh!" Zayne's reply gets cut off by his own moan as you grind your ass against his cock. His chest pressed against your back and his hands darted to your thighs, encouraging you to keep going.

His fingers made their way to the zipper of your pants, silently asking for your permission. In return, you held his hand and assisted him in pulling your zipper down and undoing the button right above it.

You lifted your hips so that he could pull your pants down before unzipping his own pants to free his cock from his boxers.

Kissing his lips, you moved his hands back on the desk before slowly sinking down on him, his cock nestled deep inside you.

Zayne groans at the tightness that enveloped him. His forehead rests on your back while he takes a second to steady his breath.

"Zayne..." you moved his hands towards his keyboard. "Keep working, you're almost done~"

He narrowed his eyes at your sly grin. "You..."

You only patted his cheeks in response before putting your attention to your own laptop to continue editing your work.

You heard a defeated sigh before Zayne continued with his research paper.

You made sure to move your hips every once in a while, drawing out moans and sharp breaths out of him. You enjoyed the way his hands would freeze every time you grind yourself against his cock, which would then twitch in response.

Only after a few minutes, Zayne's typing increased speed. You're impressed with the way he never mispelled a single word.

His focus intensified by a tenfold.

Not once did his hips move.

Not until he was fully done with the report.

Only after he closed his laptop did he touch you.

He stood up and put you down on he desk after moving everything aside.

"Now that I've finished my work early, don't you think I deserve a reward?" he asked, running a hand from your knee to your thigh.

You smiled and pulled him closer, clutching the collars of his shirt. "Of course. Anything you want."

"In that case..."

His mouth devours yours and he parted your legs wider before standing between them. He stroke his cock a few times, spreading his pre-cum on the rest of his length before aligning his tip with your core.

Before pushing himself in you, Zayne rubbed the tip of his cock against your clit, causing you to mewl against his tongue.

Zayne didn't waste much time after gently easing into you. His hips began to move back and forth while his hands grips your waist, making sure your body doesn't get pushed back from how hard he was thrusting.

Your hands are pressing down on his shoulders, eyes on his chest that you exposed after partly unbuttoning his shirt.

You fixed his the glasses that threatened to fall from his face before his lips dove to your neck to leave a trail of hot, wet kisses on your skin.

His pace picks up by the minute as he grows desperate for release. Sweat drips from his forehead and neck as his movement loses control. You were gasping for air as he thrusted harder, knocking down a few trinkets on his desk.

Zayne suddenly pulls out right before ropes of cum splashes you in the chest. His hand rubs his sensitive cock as he continues to empty himself out, hips stuttering while he grunts loudly, unable to hold himself back, especially when your own climax came not too long after.

As the two of you took a moment to catch your breath, Zayne took your hands and gave your knuckles a soft kiss.

"That was... quite a special way to encourage me to finish my work faster, although I can't say it wasn't effective. I'll make sure to remember your technique so I can do the same to you next time."

"...what did you say?!"

Zayne smiled and pecked your forehead. "Shall we go take a shower before dinner?"

- caleb -

Usually, he'd drop whatever he's doing and give you his undivided attention — but not today. In his living room, Caleb is assembling a complex model for a newly designed plane.

It's not like you had any plans in particular, so you didn't mind. You're quite intrigued with the way he's so focused on putting the figure together.

The tiny pieces give satisfying clicks as Caleb attaches them together, all while his eyes are narrowed and brows are furrowed. You always love at his concentration face.

Though, you've broken his concentration for a second as he briefly paused to face you. "Bored, Pip-squeak?"

"Not really. I like watching you build your little plane."

Caleb laughs as he's reminded of the past. You always did have a habit of observing him whenever he's building something, whether it be legos or school projects.

"Why don't you come over here and help me with it? Once we're finished, we can go to the park and have that basketball shooting challenge that you insist we have. Then, we can go eat after. Deal?"

You grinned and sat next to him, kneeling down on the floor and facing the center table. "Deal."

"Not there."

Caleb wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you right on his lap.

"Here is better."

The way his lips brushed against your ear as he whispered caused your face to heat up but you kept your gaze on the figure.

"Wait, you've been doing this with no instructions?!" you looked around the table and saw that there's a folded paper still inside the box that the pieces of this figure came from.

"Oh, I forgot about the instructions." Caleb uses his evol to summon the paper and place it in front of you. "That would make this waaay easier. Good idea, Pip-squeak."

"Hmph. Assembling this thing without instructions.... what a show-off."

Caleb chuckles. "I'm used to building plane models, that's all. Even though this one has a different design, the base is still pretty much the same."

"Show-off."

You moved your hips a little so that you could be more comfortable as you start to lock in for the project.

You're not a genius like Caleb, but at the very least, you can assemble pieces of a spaceship. It's just like playing with legos, but for adults. How hard could it be?

Three minutes later...

"This looks just like that other piece!"

"That one goes to the left wing. It's three millimeters smaller than the other one, which goes on here instead."

Caleb leans forward, chest pressing against your back so that he could help you with the pieces that you were getting confused with.

"Tch. Show-off."

Five minutes later, you're getting the hang of it. Of course, you're following every step of the instructions, while Caleb continued to assemble without it.

Although, just now, his hands suddenly froze just as he picked up a piece for the plane's tail.

At last, you caught him struggling.

"Heh. Does the genius need instructions now?"

You smirked as you looked over your shoulder, only to see his face flush and forehead slightly sweating. His lips are parted apart, taking quiet deep breaths, and his eyes have darkened as his pupils dilate.

"Caleb? Are you — "

"Ngggnnhh... don't... move..."

"What? Why?"

Twitch.

You got a respond not from his mouth, but from another part of his body down below, right where you're sitting.

"Oh."

Caleb embraces you and buries his face against your neck while he slowly moves his hip upwards, desperate for friction.

You grind back to him and reached a hand back to feel his hardened cock through his sweatpants. He lets out a quiet whine and slides his fingers to your thighs, sneaking up your soft skirt.

As he whispers your name, Caleb's finger toys with the fabric of your panty that's covering your core, making your insides clench with arousal.

You kissed him softly while he pulls down your underwear, hiding it in his pocket rather than letting it fall to the carpet.

You then take a moment to tug on the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers. Caleb lifts up his hips so you could remove them, though he gave you a questioning glance when he noticed that you didn't fully get rid of them.

"Caleb..."

You slowly caressed his face and gave him another kiss before taking his cock and sinking down on him.

Moaning against your lips, he didn't waste a second before thrusting up, sliding in and out of you while holding onto your hips.

"Wa — ah, wait, Caleb..."

He stops immediately. "What's wrong? Did I hurt you?"

"No, no not at all". you gave him a reassuring smile, which soon turned into a grin that had him gulping nervously. "I was just gonna say... we should finish assembling your plane first."

"What...?" he looks at you with disbelief. "But..." his cock twitched once again, reminding you of his current state. "You..... are doing this on purpose...." he spoke slowly, breath hitching as he tries to restrain himself from rutting into you. "Teasing me like this...."

"I don't know what you mean. I just want you to finish your super cool model."

He detected the playfulness in your tone. "Just wait till I'm done..." he warns in a deep tone before his hand goes back to the separate pieces of the model.

He grunts under his breath as he feels you clenching on his cock, which was growing while buried in you.

"You're not... making this easy... at all..."

He's using up all his strength to not move, meanwhile you're torturing him by shifting ever so slightly once every few minutes.

You bite the inside of your cheek to suppress a grin as you watch Caleb mess up a few times, mind clearly frazzled.

"You can do it~" you cheered with encouragement, wrapping one arm around his neck.

Caleb lets out a shaky exhale as you once again rock against his thighs. "I thought you were supposed to be helping me so we could finish faster, Pip-squeak?"

"I'll let you take over and do the easier stuff. I'm... busy."

He lets out a noise that was a mixture of a chuckle and a scoff, something that you hear often whenever you're teasing him.

Caleb continues to mess up a few more times as he hurriedly puts the pieces of the plane model together.

But once he puts the final piece, he lets out a sigh of relief. "Done."

You patted his head. "Good boy."

Not a second later after your praise, you felt his cock twitch again.

Caleb re-adjusted your figure and urged you to turn around and face him, all while remaining on his lap.

"So, do I get my reward now?"

"And what does my genius pilot want as a reward?"

He wrapped his arms around your back and held you close. The bridge of his nose brush against yours as his lips hovered on your own. "Just you."

You closed the distance between your mouths and let your tongue collide with his while your hips began to move in circles.

"Ah — slow down.... I'm gonna — "

Caleb ended up coming quicker than usual, shooting all of his cum inside you.

He was already close to exploding just having you sit on his cock, so as soon as you started to move, his body couldn't take it.

But he's not done with you yet.

Caleb carried you over to the couch and got on top of you before getting rid of the rest of his clothes. He stroke himself while gazing at you, cock stiffening again.

Without giving himself much time to recover, he entered you and pounded hard. His hands slipped inside your shirt to pull it up and remove it off you, then he unclasped your bra and slid it to the floor before putting your left breast in hie mouth.

His tongue flicks against your nipple before giving the same attention to your right breast, groaning against your mounds as a wave of ecstasy struck him, causing him to pick up his pace in going in and out of you.

Your body arches as the tip of his cock hits the deepest part of you. Hissing with pleasure, your hips stutter and your legs tightened around his hips right before reaching your climax.

Caleb didn't dare to slow down.

He's close.

So close.

Just a little more...

You shut your eyes and gasped for air, feeling as if you're drowning as he hammers into you. As your cunt tightened even more, Caleb pulls out and his orgasm splatters all over your stomach, crying out with pleasure.

Caleb's face drops down to your chest and listens to your fast beating heart as the two of you catch your breaths. His body relaxes on top of yours, and you enjoy the feeling of his weight pressing down on you.

Your left hand brushes through his hair on the back of his head.

"Wait, are we still gonna play basketball?"

Caleb laughs at your sudden question. "As long as you don't use any.....unfair techniques again.... then yes, I still plan to beat you in basketball. Need to remind you that I'm still the best Forward."

"Heh. Show-off."

- rafayel -

Rafayel pouts as he's forced to finish a painting that he promised Thomas would be done over the weekend.

It's not that he dislikes the painting, it's more so that Rafayel prefers to take his time, as he loves taking breaks in between work. This time, however, he realized that there's not much room for breaks if he wants to finish by the deadline.

Luckily, he has his beloved to keep him company and make the work more tolerable.

It doesn't matter what you're doing. Rafayel is just happy that you're there with him.

Whenever you ramble about random things, he listens and asks for more details.

Every time you sing a song while cleaning around his space, he enthusiastically sings along with you while tapping his toes.

When you watch him work, he tells you all about what he's doing; why he chose those specific colors, and why his brush moved in a certain way.

Just now, you're arriving from work with snacks to share, knowing that he most likely hasn't eaten lunch yet. You managed to convince him to take just a few minutes off so he could eat properly — or else, he'll pass out and his painting would absolutely not be done on time, you told him.

Once he's finished eating, you walked him back to his working station before announcing that you'll be gone for a bit to wash the dishes.

You took no further than a single step before arms wrapped around your waist and you're embraced from behind, with Rafayel nuzzling his face on your lower back.

"The dishes will be fine on their own for now. Me, on the other hand... I might need to be supervised. Or else...."

"Or else what?"

"Or else..... I'll be kidnapped by seagulls."

You laughed at his excuse, failing to resist cupping his face. "That's true, they would want to steal a lonely delicious fishie in distress. I better stick around and keep them away."

Rafayel beams and pulls you onto the stool chair with him.

"Wha — Rafayel! This chair's not big enough for both of us!"

"I know, cutie."

Rafayel sat you right on his lap.

"Much better."

"You won't be able to paint properly like this!"

"Oh yeah?" Rafayel grins and twirls the paintbrush he held between the fingers of his right hand. "Challenge accepted! I'll give you a masterpiece! Just you wait!"

You were getting ready to let out the most dramatic and obnoxious laugh as soon as you see him looking silly and struggling to move, but you never got your chance.

Somehow, he still managed to look elegant while painting with you in his way. One hand working, and the other is resting on your left knee.

He truly is a man of many talents.

Since you're there, you might as well enjoy the show. You always find it satisfying and relaxing to watch Rafayel work.

Every graceful stroke of his brush and the way colors smoothly blend together on his canvas is something that you could watch for hours.

You were so entranced that you ended up in a daze not a few minutes later.

You only snapped out of it when you heard a moan from behind you.

Before you could turn your head, Rafayel's hand on your knee moved up to your thigh and his grip on his paintbrush tightened.

"You're not....distracting me on purpose, are you?" his warm breath tickled your neck as his lips brushed against your ear.

You were confused for a second, then he stirred his hips and that's when you felt how hard he is.

"Rafayel..."

You raised a hand to caress his red, warm face and traced his soft lips before giving him a lingering kiss.

He sighs with content against your mouth as he leaned in for more, eyes closed as he cherishes the taste of your lips.

Then, you suddenly pulled back and he looks at you with a pout.

"I wasn't trying to distract you before but now I really am distracting you. You have to keep working if you want to finish on time, Raf."

He groans and rests his forehead on your shoulder. "I knew it. You hate me."

You laughed and squished his cheeks. "Not at all. It's the opposite." one of your hands went to his chest and slid down to his stomach, then to the button of his pants. "I'll stay here and keep you company while you work, okay?"

His breath hitches as you start to unbutton and unzip his pants. "Okay."

You pulled your pants down and moved your panty aside before sliding his cock into you. You let out a gasp as it slipped in so easy, due to his already soaked tip.

Rafayel grunts as his cock settles into your pussy. His body burned with the need to move. His left hand was enveloped with yours, resting on the side of the stool. You then took his right hand, which was still gripping the paintbrush, and held it up to his unfinished painting.

"Keep working."

Rafayel gulps before moving the brush.

Just after a handful of strokes, his cock stirs inside you and a low groan escapes from his mouth.

"I need you. Can I — "

"You have to finish this first. Then, you can move as much as you want, how fast you want."

He throbs at your words.

With his body ignited, Rafayel finds the energy to continue working at a faster rate.

Despite being on the verge of losing control, his hand movements remained steady. Although, he can't help but pause once every while, as you'd clench around his cock and send him farther on edge.

You lost track of time for how long you two were in that position, but Rafayel didn't finish the painting until the sun had gone down and it's dark outside.

The waves outside of his house crashed loudly, and the cold breeze has breached the room, though you could barely notice it as your body is being warmed by Rafayel's.

"It's beautiful!" you exclaimed, admiring his mostly finished artwork.

He said it still needs some final touches, which has to be done tomorrow once everything dries up, but for today, his work is finished.

"Now that you're done, do you wanna eat din— "

Rafayel suddenly stands up but kept an arm around you so that you two don't separate.

Your feet touched the floor and Rafayel slightly bends you over, with one hand on the small of your back and the other on your hips.

"I was promised something once I was done working. Don't you remember, my beloved?" he whispers against your ear before pressing his lips on your cheek. "You offered me yourself."

Your insides tingled at his tone, your core burning up with excitement.

"I can move how much I want, and how fast I want." he repeated your own words back to you. "I'll be taking my gift now."

Rafayel pulls out of you, only to come back in slowly, inch by inch until all of his length is in you. He repeats a few more times before gradually picking up his pace and strength, while his hands hold your hips to keep you steady.

He echoes your erratic gasps of pleasure, sweat glistening on his skin as his body rocks against yours. The sound of his hips snapping against your flesh gets lost in the waves that grew stronger and louder as they reach the shoreline.

You cry out his name as you feel yourself nearing your climax. His chest touches your back and his left arm supports your stomach before going even harder.

Soon, your knees buckle and your hips stutter before coming as he was still fucking you. Rafayel groans as he continues to push himself into you over and over, finding it difficult to slow down.

Then, he explodes inside of you.

And still, he continues to pound you.

The two of you hiss as your sensitive bodies reaches their limits, yet neither are pulling away.

Rafayel didn't stop until the two of you came for the second time. Only then, did he pull out of you.

But still, he wasn't finished.

Rafayel sat you down on the stool chair, then he got on his knees and parted your legs.

"How kind of you to bring me my dinner, my beloved~"

- xavier -

Xavier was in the middle of playing a videogame when you entered his apartment, though his eyes are halfway from closing and the controller on his hands are on the verge of slipping to the floor.

You snuck up towards him so you could give him a jumpscare.

"Boo — whaaa!!"

Without even glancing your way, he suddenly raised his arms and captured you in between them, without even letting go of the controller.

"Hi, doll."

"I wasn't even making any noise and you were half-awake. How did you know?" you sigh, falling limp with your stomach onto his lap.

"You can call it an extra sense."

"Pfft. Okay, Spider Man — oops, I mean Lumiere — "

You were forced to stop talking as Xavier bends down to cover your mouth with his while playfully nipping your bottom lip.

"No Spider Man or Lumiere, just your Xavier."

You were left dazed and speechless from the kiss, so you only stared at his pretty face that wore a half-smile that was proud of the reaction he got out of you.

Xavier casually resumes on playing his videogame, acting as if he didn't die at least seven times just now while he was distracted.

You shifted slightly as you remained lying down on his lap, finding him just as comfortable as his bean-bag chair, where your propped elbows are resting as you lean on your right hand to watch the screen.

Using you like a pillow, he rested his wrists on your ass while his fingers continue to fiddle with the controller.

You didn't mind it at all and shifted even more so that you could be even more comfortable.

As Xavier advances to upper, more difficult levels of the game, he becomes more focused and you become fully immersed in watching him fight enemies.

You didn't even realize until after a while that Xavier is moving an awful lot while just playing a game.

He seems to be squirming under you.

"Xavier... are you good?"

"Mhmm... 'm fine..."

That sounded like a moan just now.

You narrowed your eyes as you turned your head to face him. Sure enough, his face is flushed. You're more than familiar with that look.

Before you could ask any further questions, you felt a stir beneath your hips.

"Heh."

You pushed yourself up and sat on his lap properly with your thighs on the sides of his hips while facing him. Then, you put your hands on his shoulders and leaned forward.

"You could've just asked me to move for you." you grinded your hips against his crotch, making sure to brush against his hard-on.

Xavier lets out a shaky breath before dropping the controller on the floor and putting his hands on your hips, urging you to keep moving.

You swayed your hips until his cock was straining against his pajama pants, until his tip was leaking from desire.

And then, you stopped.

"What — what's wrong?" Xavier looks at you worriedly, eyes still half-lided with lust.

You tugged on the waist band of his pants and pulled it down along with his boxers. Xavier moves to help you get rid of it, then he sighs with pleasure as your hand touches his aching cock.

You stroke him a few times before easing him into you. Xavier grips your hips and nudges you to move, but you stay still despite your insides clenching with need for him.

You slightly bent down backwards to pick up the controller he dropped and put it back in his hand.

"You gotta keep playing, Xavier~"

"What?"

"You wanted to finish this level, right?"

His brows furrowed with confusion. "You...want me to keep playing? Right now...?" His cock twitches, reminding you of your current positions. "But..."

"It'll be fine! I'll cheer you on!"

Xavier then realized what you're planning and lets out a low chuckle before tightening his grip on the controller.

"Fine, but... don't move until I'm done. This won't take long."

Now you wished that you'd faced the other way so you could keep watching him play. Looking over your shoulder to see the screen is uncomfortable, so you just rested your face on his shoulder.

You had no idea what was happening in his game but the fast clicking sounds of the buttons of his controllers made you want to laugh with amusement, knowing he's probably speed-running the level.

But then, you heard a sound that told you that his character just died, and it was followed by Xavier cursing under his breath.

To say that it didn't turn you on would be a lie.

And Xavier picked up on that too when he felt you clench around his cock.

Suddenly, everything darkened around you.

"What?!"

All the lights in the room just went out.

"Looks like the power went out." Xavier murmurs before letting go of the controller. "I can't play now. Too bad."

Xavier's hands made their way back to your hips.

"Gotta find something else to do."

He starts to gently push your hips back and forth, emitting a soft gasp out of your lips, which was muffled as he kisses you deeply.

You nudged him back so that his back could rest on the spatious bean-bag chair, then you put a hand on his chest and bounced on him harder, drawing out erratic groans out of him.

Sweat drips down your bodies as you grind against each other, and yet you couldn't slow down as you feel your insides tingling.

Unable to stay still, Xavier started to thrust his hips upwards to meet you half-way, going even faster than you are, all while his hands are tightly clinging onto yours.

Along with your cries of pleasure, the pitch black room is filled with the sounds of your bodies crashing as you chase your high together.

While Xavier pounds into you uncontrollably, your legs shook as you reach your orgasm, which dripped down to your thighs and onto his skin.

Xavier doesn't stop nor slow down as he feels his climax coming. He sat back up and continued to push his pulsating cock into you until he finally bursts and fills you up with ropes of cum.

He then wrapped his arms around you to hold you against him, with you still on his lap and his cock still nestled nside you.

He buries his face between your breasts, enjoying the way your hand softly combs his hair while you catch your breath.

"Hey, what's that?"

You squinted your eyes to observe the speck of light from his gaming console.

"It's...still on...."

You blinked as you realized what Xavier had done.

"The power never went out... you used your evol to get rid of all the lights?!"

Xavier yawns. "I'm sleepy. We should take a nap."

"Hey!"

3K notes · View notes

dazevi · 6 months ago

Text

baby, can i? | vi x fem!reader, fluff, smut (18+ mdni) wc: 6k

synopsis: vi guides you through your first time. | masterlist

content warnings: modern au!, tiniest mention of hockey player!vi, virgin!reader/inexperienced!reader, experienced!vi, soft top!vi, needy vi, nsfw/smut; consent is sexy!!!!!!, kissing/making out, little bit of perverted vi, soft sex, fingering and oral (r!receiving) slight overstim, bit of praise kink for both reader and vi, a little sappy tbh

note: ok wait this actually is really sappy/cheesy/whatver ummm but i hope u like it (also i might be on a writers high a little bit > got a request for bartender!vi andi am very excited to write about it)

It was all innocent at first—a movie you chose playing on the TV in Vi’s apartment, her chin resting lightly on your shoulder, her thumbs gently brushing circles against your sides, and ever so often, her lips grazing the top of your head in fleeting, soft kisses. You were tucked between her legs, your back resting against her chest, and her arms were securely wrapped around your waist possessively, not wanting you to move away from her.

You were watching the movie—or at least, you were trying to.

But Vi wasn’t making it easy.

She’d been unusually affectionate all evening, her hands sneaking under the hem of your sweater to rest directly on your skin. They weren’t wandering; she wasn’t teasing you like she sometimes did.

No, this was different.

Her fingers were just there, pressed against your stomach as if she needed to feel the warmth of you. She was quiet, which wasn’t unusual when she was in one of these soft, clingy moods, but you could feel her every breath against your back, her chest rising and falling steadily. In different minutes, she would shift slightly, her legs tensing around you as if she were adjusting, but really, you knew it was just an excuse to pull you closer.

“Comfy?” she asked after a while, voice soft in your ear.

“Mhm,” you murmured back, turning your head slightly to look at her.

She only smiled.

“What?” You smiled back, a soft giggle falling from your lips.

Vi shook her head, placing a tiny kiss to your shoulder, “Nothing.”

She was so close, her face inches from yours, her eyes glinting in the flickering light of the TV. There was a small smile tugging at her lips, and when she caught you looking at her, she tilted her head, her expression softening in a way that made your heart flutter.

Vi had been head over heels for you from the start, though she’d never admit how fast it all happened.

She prided herself on being smooth, confident, and a little cocky—someone who always knew how to flirt, how to charm, how to make the girls swoon. And it worked for her, for the most part. Vi had never struggled to get attention; her charm, confidence, and maybe sometimes even her muscles, did most of the talking before she even opened her mouth.

But none of that prepared her for you.

When you first started dating, Vi tried to play it cool. She told herself she’d keep it casual, keep things easy. But then you smiled at her like she’d hung the moon, and that was it. Vi fell hard—headfirst, without a parachute—and it terrified her.

She couldn’t stop thinking about you, couldn’t stop replaying every moment you spent together like they were the best scenes in a movie she never wanted to end. Every time you laughed, her chest felt too tight, like her heart was trying to claw its way out of her ribcage just to reach you. She didn’t even realize how deep she was in until one day she caught herself thinking about you in the middle of practice, her teammates yelling her name because she’d missed the puck for the third time.

She told herself it wasn’t a big deal. People fell in love all the time, right?

Right?

And that scared her more than anything. Because Vi wasn’t used to feeling this vulnerable. She was used to being in control, to calling the shots, to knowing exactly where she stood. But with you, she felt like she was walking a tightrope, one misstep away from falling so deep she might never recover. And yet, she couldn’t bring herself to care.

Because as much as you terrified her, you also made her feel alive in ways she never thought possible.

And for the first time in her life, she wasn’t afraid to admit that someone else had her completely, utterly, helplessly wrapped around their finger.

And, truth be told, you’re not exactly experienced when it came to sex.

The first time you told her, it took Vi by surprise.

She had been getting touchy one day, as she always did when she was around you, teasing you with little brushes of her fingers against your skin, her lips grazing your neck as she whispered something playful in your ear. She could sense the way you tensed up, not in a way that made her think you were uncomfortable, but… uncertain.

“I—uh, I’m not really… experienced with all this,” you had admitted, your cheeks flushed a deep shade of red, eyes glancing away, as if you were ashamed to even say it aloud. “I’ve never… done it with someone before.”

Vi froze, her breath caught in her throat.

She hadn’t expected it—hadn’t thought that you might be nervous about something so natural to her. Vi had been with plenty of people, experienced in more ways than one, but she’d never really stopped to think about someone who was new to it all, someone who might feel hesitant or unsure. She paused, but then the softest smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she looked at you softly.

“Hey,” she said gently as she cupped your face with her hand, guiding your gaze back to hers. “You don’t have to be embarrassed, okay? I’m not in a rush. We’ll go at your pace, baby.”

You swallowed hard, the knot in your stomach still there, but hearing her words made it feel a little easier to breathe. She didn’t judge you. She didn’t make you feel small for being inexperienced. She understood your vulnerability because, in a way, she felt it too.

“I’m really into you,” Vi had said. “All I care about is being with you. So, if we go slow—if you need time—then we go slow. I’m not going anywhere.”

She kept her word.

She let you set the pace, kissed you slow and gentle, her hands always asking for permission before they moved anywhere further. When you’d get nervous, when you’d pull back, she’d smile at you, brushing your hair from your face, whispering how beautiful you were, how much she liked being close to you. She was kind of shocked herself. She had the patience to listen, the kind of patience she’d never thought she’d have for anyone, but for you? She’d have it for a lifetime if you needed her to.

But god, sometimes, it was really fucking hard.

She wanted to fuck you so bad.

Vi was, above all else, just a woman—a woman with desires that had been left unchecked for far too long. Everything you did made her heart race, made her head spin. You were so fucking pretty. It was almost unbearable. Vi wanted to get lost in you, wanted to feel her lips all over your skin, wanted to explore every inch of you until she knew you as well as she knew herself.

And she respected your boundaries more than anything. She wanted you to feel safe with her, to feel cherished, to feel like there was no rush.

But god, it was hard.

Every time you turned to her and smiled that soft, shy smile, when your fingers brushed against hers so innocently, it felt like you were silently asking for more—though you weren’t. The way you looked at her sometimes, the way you held her gaze when your lips brushed against hers, made it nearly impossible to keep herself in check.

In different situations, at a party, or even just in her apartment or yours, she’d excuse herself for a moment, retreating to the bathroom or something, just to compose herself. She’d close her eyes and huff a hard and heavy sigh, shamelessly picture it all in her head until it drove her insane. Then, she’d go back to you, a bit more touchy and loving, standing even closer than before, unable to get her eyes to look away from you. She’d smile that charming smile of hers when you turn to look at her and tell you it was nothing—even though it wasn’t nothing. Not when her eyes would keep falling to your soft lips, her hands itching at her sides to touch you in places people aren’t allowed to see, and her jaw clenching at the sight of you in such a pretty dress or whatever outfit you decided to put together that day.

Vi wasn’t perfect. Sometimes, she was just someone who wanted to touch you, to hold you, to feel your body pressed against hers. Every time you looked up at her, those soft eyes that sparkled when they met hers, she couldn’t help but think how much she wanted to kiss you, to make you feel as good as you made her feel.

But she holds herself back every time. And she’s quite proud of herself, actually.

Tonight, though, something felt different.

Vi couldn’t put her finger on it, but she felt it deep in her bones. It wasn’t just the heat in the room or the way the soft glow of the TV flickered against your skin. It was the how you’d been leaning into her a little more tonight, just enough for her to notice the subtle shift in your body. And it wasn’t like before, when you’d shift away slightly or look at her with wide, hesitant eyes, unsure of the closeness.

Tonight, you didn’t do that. You leaned in closer.

Vi’s heart skipped a beat as she felt the warmth of your body pressing against hers. Her breath caught, the movie fading into the background as her attention narrowed to you. To the way your body fit so perfectly against hers. Her hand, which had been lazily resting on your waist, hands underneath your sweater, now slid lower, just a little bit—no big deal, just a gentle touch—but the way you didn’t flinch, didn’t pull away, made her pulse race. You didn’t look uncomfortable.

In fact, you looked like you were… waiting. Like you wanted her to touch you more.

Vi wasn’t one to back down from anything, but she had always been patient with you. Yet tonight, she felt the urge to push those boundaries just a little. Her fingertips slid from your waist to your hip, feeling the curve of you, the warmth of your skin beneath the soft fabric of your shirt.

Your breath hitched slightly, but you still didn’t pull away. Instead, your back arched just enough for her to notice, and your eyes flickered up to meet hers. That same shy smile of yours tugged at her heartstrings.

You didn’t seem to mind. In fact, Vi could swear there was something more in your gaze—something that matched the heat she felt rising inside her.

She could feel her chest tighten with as thoughts of you—only you—filled her mind.

She wanted you. So badly.

Her breath came out in soft, breathless whimpers, and your name—your sweet, simple name—fell from her lips like a prayer.

“Baby…” she whispered against you, closing her eyes and letting out soft sigh.

It was so desperate, so soft.

There was no mistaking the need in her voice, the way her breath quickened, the raw hunger she was trying so hard to control, to be gentle with you, but it was obvious to you now that she was practically using every bone in her body to stay patient.

You could feel it in every inch of her, in the way her hands trembled just slightly, in the way her breath hitched as shelingered just out of reach of the place you both knew she desperately wanted to touch.

She dropped her head to your shoulder, her forehead resting gently against the soft curve of your neck as if she was trying to hide her feelings, to keep herself under control, but you could feel it in the way her body tensed, in the way her hands hovered close to you, shaking with the effort of keeping her restraint. She was trying so hard to stay composed, to be gentle, but it was clear she was on the edge, barely holding it together.

She wanted you. Needed you. And her restraint was slipping away with every passing second.

“Vi…”

At the sound of your voice, so soft and gentle, Vi’s gaze snapped up to meet yours. Her eyes were wide, waiting, like she’d been waiting for this moment, for you to say something—anything—to pull her back in. She looked almost like a puppy, the look on her face soft and eager, her lips slightly parted as if she were holding her breath, waiting for you to speak again.

She searched your eyes desperately, wanting to know what you were thinking, what you wanted, because nothing else mattered more.

“I’m here,” she breathed out, barely more than a whisper.

She wanted you to know she was all in—her mind, her body, her heart. She was yours. And in that moment, it felt like nothing could tear her away from you.

“What do you need, baby?” she asked, the words falling from her lips desperately. “Tell me… please.”

Vi’s breath caught in her throat the moment you turned to face her, your eyes locking with hers as if everything else in the room disappeared. The movie was long forgotten by now and for a split second, Vi forgot how to breathe. God, you were so fucking pretty. She couldn’t help but melt as you reached up to gently brush a strand of her hair from her face.

She swallowed hard, fighting the urge to let out a shaky breath as you leaned in, your lips brushing against hers in the softest kiss she’d ever felt. It was sweet, but there was something more beneath it—something deeper.

You pulled away just enough for Vi to feel the coldness of the space left between you, and she immediately chased after your lips like a starved thing, her breath coming quicker, hands gripping your waist. Every inch of her body begged for you, aching to feel you pressed against her, to get closer, to melt into you until nothing else existed. She wanted more—needed more.

And then, your voice, soft and quiet, broke through the haze of her thoughts.

“I want you, Vi…” you whispered.

Your words were soft, almost shy, but they sent a wave of heat crashing through Vi’s chest. Her breath hitched at the sound of your voice, her heart racing even faster.

It was all she needed to hear.

She was lost in you, in the way you made her feel. She melted against you, her hands roaming up your sides, pulling you closer, her lips finding yours once again. This time, it was deeper, needier. She wanted you, more than she’d ever wanted anyone before. Every kiss, every touch, felt like it was both too much and not enough. Vi pulled you closer into her lap, her arms wrapping around you tightly as if she never wanted to let go.

“Fuck,” she whispered, voice shaky, a low groan escaping her throat as she pulled you even closer, her hands cupping the back of your head, deepening the kiss.

You could feel it—the heat building low in your stomach, the wetness pooling in your panties, spreading through your body in waves with every touch of Vi’s hands on your skin. Her grip was firm, her fingers tracing the curve of your waist like she was trying to memorize you. You gasped softly as she shifted you higher in her arms. It was impossible not to react to her—the way she looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered in the world, the way her voice dropped low and raspy when she whispered your name.

Vi couldn’t focus on anything else but you—your soft breath against her lips, your body pressed so close to hers, the way your fingers brushed against her skin. The movie was nothing but background noise now, and all she could think about how you felt, how you tasted, and how much she wanted you.

Without even realizing what she was doing, Vi pulled you closer, your legs straddling her waist. She could feel the weight of your body, the warmth of your skin, and the softness of your touch. You were everything she wanted and more, and Vi’s breath caught as she watched your eyes flicker with the same heat, the same desire that had been building for what felt like forever.

“Need you…” she whimpered, low and needy, her hands already moving to settle more firmly around your waist.

She didn’t give you a moment to think before she stood up, lifting you with ease, her strong arms, muscles flexing, supporting you as if you weighed nothing, as if she’d done this a thousand times before.

You instinctively wrapped your legs around her waist, your arms around her neck, and the heat of your body pressed against hers, the way you fit perfectly, like you were made to be in her arms. She could feel your pulse against her chest, your body trembling just slightly as she carried you through her apartment, heading toward the one place that she knew would be safe—her bedroom.

Vi’s hands moved carefully as she gently laid you down against her bed, her touch lingering on your waist for just a moment longer than necessary. Her body hovered over yours, but she didn’t lean in right away. She paused instead, pulling back slightly to look at you. And god, the way she looked at you—it was like nothing else existed in the world except for you.

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks under her gaze, her eyes roaming your face. Vi wasn’t in a rush now, even if her body ached for you. She could feel her heart pounding, her breath uneven as she just… stared. You looked so fucking pretty, she thought, her lips parting slightly as if she wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.

Her hands moved absently as she tugged at the hem of her own shirt, a random band tee she got on one of her birthdays, pulling it off in one quick motion and tossing it to the side without a second thought. Her toned body caught your attention immediately, and you felt your breath hitch as your eyes lingered on the taut muscles of her arms and the faint scars across her torso. But Vi didn’t even notice… not when her focus was entirely on you. She leaned back slightly, giving herself just enough room to drink you in.

“You’re so beautiful,” she murmured quietly, like the words weren’t meant for you to hear but spilled out anyway.

She reached for you again, her hands sliding over your waist as her thumbs brushed over your hips, thumbs tugging slightly on your shorts. Her mind was spinning, her heart hammering in her chest as she hovered over you. The reality of the moment hit her hard, making her stomach flip over and over.

Is this really happening? she thought, her hands trembling slightly as they rested on either side of your waist. Her throat tightened as she struggled to process it all. You’re really going to let me do this? You’re really trusting me like this?

She swallowed hard, her cheeks burning as her eyes roamed over your face. You were looking up at her with so much trust, and it was almost too much for her. Her chest ached in the best way, and a nervous, breathless laugh almost bubbled out of her throat. Vi was confident—she always had been—but this? This was something else entirely. This was someone she adored more than she could put into words, giving her something so special, so intimate, that she started to question if she even deserved it.

What did I do to deserve this? she thought, her mind racing. What did I do to deserve her?

Her palms grew clammy, nervous, and for a split second, she wondered if she was going to pass out from sheer excitement. Her head was spinning with a thousand thoughts—how to take her time, how to make it perfect, how to make sure you felt as loved and cherished as you deserved, as you made her feel.

“Vi,” you whispered softly, and she blinked, her trance breaking for just a moment as her eyes locked with yours.

Your breath caught as you reached up, your fingers gently brushing against her cheek. And as she dipped her head down, her lips brushing against yours in the softest kiss, you knew you were ready.

Vi’s fingers trembled slightly as they toyed with the hem of your shirt as she pulled back from the kiss for a moment. Her eyes darted between yours and the fabric she was clutching, her lips parted as though she was trying to find the right words.

Finally, she managed to ask, her voice low and almost shy, “Can I take this off?”

The eagerness in your nod made her breath hitch, and a soft, breathless laugh escaped her lips, sounding almost disbelieving.

“Okay,” she muttered under her breath, her cheeks pink and her grin wide as she tugged at your shirt gently, pulling it over your head.

“Oh, fuck,” she whispered as her hands came to rest gently on your waist again.

And she… stared again. Here eyes traced every curve and dip of your exposed skin. Her lips parted as if to say something, but no words came out. You blushed hard as the seconds pass, squirming slightly under her gaze, biting your lip as you glanced away, feeling shy.

“Vi… Stop looking at me like that,” you mumbled, but Vi didn’t listen.

Instead, she laughed, lie and warm, and dropped her head to your shoulder. Her strong arms wrapped around your waist as she held you close, her breath warm against your skin.

“Sorry, baby… Can you blame me?” she murmured, her breath tickling your neck as she continued, “I’ve got the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen… looking up at me… waiting for me…”

Her words sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn’t help but smile, even as you playfully shoved at her shoulder.

“Shut up,” you teased, though your voice betrayed the way your heart fluttered in your chest.

She smiled cheekily and lifted her head just enough to press a quick kiss to your neck, her lips lingering for a second longer than necessary. Her hands moved with softly as they slipped to the waistband of your shorts, her fingers brushing against your skin so lightly it sent shivers up your spine. She paused for a moment, as if giving you the chance to stop her, her gaze flickering back up to meet yours.

When you didn’t protest, only nodding softly with a nervous but eager look in your eyes, Vi let out a small, breathy laugh, the sound filled with both excitement and disbelief.

“Wanna make you feel good,” she murmured, more to herself than to you, and then she began to tug your shorts down your legs slowly.

Her calloused fingers grazed against the soft skin of your thighs as she worked them down. She didn’t rush, like she wanted to savor the moment, the sight of you beneath her, the way your breath hitched every time her fingers skimmed too close. She let the fabric fall to the floor before leaning back slightly, taking you in with wide, almost awestruck eyes.

“Perfect,” she whispered. Her hands rested on your knees, gently spreading them apart just enough for her to slip between your legs.

Her breath hitched as her eyes lingered on the damp spot on your panties. Her lips parted slightly, her tongue brushing over them. Her hands trembled just a little as she reached up, fingers grazing the straps of your bra.

“Let me,” she said.

You nodded, cheeks flushing as Vi carefully unhooked your bra and helped slide it off your shoulders. She tossed it aside, but her focus stayed entirely on you. Her gaze roamed over your tits, her hands smoothing up your sides. She leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your chest, then another lower, and another, her lips trailing down the valley between your breasts.

“My beautiful girl,” she whispered against your skin, her voice filled with awe and something deeper—something that made your heart race. Her kisses became firmer, needier, and you felt her nose nuzzle against the swell of your tits as she breathed you in, the pads of her thumbs softly rolling over your hard nipples.

You couldn’t help but let out a soft sigh, your fingers threading through her short pink hair as her mouth moved lower, leaving hickeys as she went. Vi looked up at you briefly, her cheeks flushed, her lips parted as though she was about to say something. But instead, she simply smiled—soft and a little smug—and leaned back in, pressing another kiss to your lips that made your toes curl.

Vi’s voice was barely above a whisper, warm against your skin as her fingers toyed with the hem of your panties.

“Can I?” she asked, her thumbs hooked around the waistband, tugging gently, as though she was testing your reaction before going any further.

Her gaze flicked up to meet yours, her blue eyes searching, waiting for your answer. You nodded slowly, the movement almost shy, and Vi let out a soft, shaky breath, her lips curving into the faintest smile.

“Yeah?” she asked again.

“Yes, please…”

She smiled and hummed, leaning down to kiss your lips softly. Her fingers moved carefully, sliding your panties down your hips and over your legs, and the moment they were gone, she tossed them aside, her eyes never leaving you.

“I love you…” she murmured so quietly as she leaned back in, her hands settling on your thighs, pushing them apart to get a better look at your pussy. “So pretty…”

She pressed a kiss to your inner thigh, her lips lingering, her breath warm against your skin. Her hands, strong but gentle, rested on your knees as she eased them further apart, creating even more space for herself.

Her lips lingered just above your skin, her warm breath fanning against you as she whispered, “You’ll tell me if you need me to stop, okay?”

You looked down at her, her face framed by the dim light filtering in, her pink hair tousled and her eyes staring with need and want, waiting for permission.

“I will,” you murmured, your voice barely audible over the sound of your own heartbeat. Your fingers instinctively moved to thread through her hair, pulling her just a little closer. “I trust you, Vi.”

Vi smiled softly at your words, and the sight made your chest tighten.

“That’s my girl,” she whispered, her lips brushing your skin again, and then she kissed you, slow and deep, as her hands moved to hold your thighs, her thumbs tracing lazy circles over your skin.

Her breath hitched as her fingers dipped lower, finally brushing against the wetness that had been teasing her imagination all night. When she felt just how slick you were, her chest rose and fell with a shuddering sigh, her lips parting in awe.

“Fuck…” she whispered, her voice breaking softly as she let the sensation sink in.

Her forehead rested briefly against your thigh, and you could feel the way her breath trembled, betraying just how much she’d been holding back. You squirmed beneath her touch, your breath catching at the slow pressure of her fingers as she explored you. She looked up at you then, her eyes heavy-lidded.

“You’re so wet,” she whispered.

Her fingers teased along your folds, and when she finally slid one inside, the quiet, shaky groan that escaped her lips sent a jolt of heat through you. Your soft moan filled the room, and it sent a shiver straight down Vi’s spine. The way you reacted to her touch, the way your body seemed to move with hers—it was intoxicating. She couldn’t stop herself from curling her finger inside of your pussy, and the sound you made in response nearly undid her completely.

“Tell me how it feels,” she said softly, her eyes searching yours as her finger moved slowly, her thumb grazing over your skin. “I wanna know… everything.”

Your voice came out in a shaky breath, soft and airy as you tried to keep up with the overwhelming sensations.

“F-feels good, Vi—” you managed to whisper, your hands gripping at the sheets beneath you.

Vi’s breath hitched at your words, a flicker of pride and hunger lighting in her chest. She wanted to do good. For you. She paused only for a moment, her eyes never leaving your face as she carefully added another finger. The stretch was new, different, and it made you gasp sharply, your body tensing for just a second before melting into her bedsheets.

“Yeah?” Vi asked, raspier now, almost shaking with how much she wanted to do this right, to make you feel good.

Her lips brush over the soft skin of your inner thigh as she fucked her fingers deeper into your pussy, curling just right. Your moans spilled out, filling the room, and Vi felt her entire body tremble with excitement.

“God, you’re so tight,” she groaned, her movements growing a little more confident as she found a pace that made your hips buck and your head fall back.

She quickened her pace, completely entranced by you. The way your face twisted in pleasure—cheeks flushed, mouth parted with those soft moans—sent a bolt of heat straight through her. She couldn’t look away.

She whimpered softly as her thumb circled your clit, drawing a sharp gasp from you that sent a wave of pride through her. But what really did her in was how fucking wet you were, the way it coated her fingers, the lewd squelching sounds filling the room with every thrust. Her mouth went dry, and her stomach flipped as she watched her fingers disappear inside you over and over again.

“Oh, fuck,” Vi murmured, her voice husky and low, almost as if she were talking to herself. “You’re so—so wet… baby, I—”

She cut herself off with a groan, unable to even form a coherent sentence, too lost in how good you felt clenching around her fingers. Her thumb pressed harder against your clit, rubbing slow circles that had your back arching and your hands clawing at the sheets.

You looked so fucking pretty, it made her head spin.

Vi’s breath was shaky as she moved her fingers faster, desperate to pull you over the edge. Her thumb never faltered, pressing and circling your clit with just the right pressure.

She leaned closer, her forehead brushing yours, her voice soft but needy as she whimpered, “Tell me how good it feels, baby. Please… I need to hear you.”

Your moans spilled from your lips like music to her ears. She couldn’t stop herself, couldn’t slow down—not when she felt the way your wet pussy fluttered around her fingers, not when she could see how close you were.

“It’s so good, Vi—oh my god, it feels so good,” you managed to gasp, your voice breaking as your hips bucked against her hand.

Her focus entirely fixated on you, on the way your body responded to her touch. Her biceps flexed with every thrust into your pussy, the veins in her arms standing out as she poured herself into the task of making you fall apart. She groaned softly as she watched her fingers disappear into you, only to reappear glistening and slick before plunging back inside. The sound of it—the wet squelch—had her nearly delirious.

“So fucking pretty like this, baby.”

Her pace quickened, her fingers curling with precision, hitting that spot that had your back arching off the mattress. Your moans grew louder, less controlled, and Vi swore she could feel your body trembling as your thighs quivered against her.

“V-Vi! I-I’m gonna… cum! Gonna cum—“

“That’s it, pretty girl,” she rasped, her lips parted as she leaned closer, her forehead brushing against your stomach. She looked up briefly, her eyes dark as she took in the sight of you. “You’re so close—I can feel it. Cum for me, yeah? Please, I need to feel you.”

And then it happened.

Your body arched, your moans spilling out in broken cries as you clenched tightly around her fingers. Vi groaned loudly, the sound guttural and needy, as she felt you come undone around her. But she didn’t stop—not yet. Her fingers kept moving, her thumb circling your clit as she worked you through every wave of pleasure, desperate to draw it out for as long as she could.

“Fuck, that’s it,” she whispered, “You’re so good for me, baby. So, so good.”

Vi let out a breath, a soft sigh of disbelief, as she pulled her fingers from you slowly after she let you ride out your high, her gaze never leaving your face. Her fingers were glistening with your cum, and she couldn’t help but stare in awe. The way you looked—completely undone, lost in pleasure—had her feeling like she was floating, the reality of what had just happened still sinking in.

Blue eyes traced the curve of your body, watching the way your skin glistened with sweat. She couldn’t help it—her mind blanked, a single thought echoing through her: God, she’s so fucking pretty. She was overwhelmed, feeling like she could never get enough of you, of the way your body responded to her, how perfect you were in her eyes, like you were made just for this. Every movement, every little breath, it was all just… mesmerizing.

She brought her fingers up and slid slowly them into her mouth, her gaze never leaving you as she savored the taste of you on her tongue. Oh, fuck! She needed more. Without thinking, her hands moved quickly, spreading your thighs further apart and her voice came out in a soft, needy whisper.

“Gotta taste you… just real quick,” she murmured so quietly, you barely heard it.

A gasp escaped your lips before you could process anything else, your body already reacting before your mind caught up. Instinctively, your fingers tangled in the strands of Vi’s pink hair, pulling hard, making her groan right into your wet pussy.

This was when you learned that Violet was a messy eater.

Her tongue pressed against folds, inside of you, occasionally sucking around your clit, the feeling of her mouth, wet and needy, sent a shiver through you. You couldn’t help but notice how she lost herself, her sounds louder and messier than you’d expected—like she was devouring you. She slurped everything up and you could feel yourself dripping and soaking her bedsheets beneath you.

God, her tongue felt so fucking good. It was almost too good. Fuck, she’s so good at this.

“V-Vi—” you cried out, your voice trembling, but she didn’t seem to hear you.

You tugged at her hair to let her know you were close, that you were going to cum again, and she didn’t slow down. If anything, it only spurred her on, her mouth sucking and slurping more and more, faster and harder. You cried out, the tension building in your lower body, and before you could even process it, she quickened her pace, her hands shifting from your thighs to intertwine with yours. The way she gripped your hand made you feel like she was holding you in place, ensuring you couldn’t pull away, even if you tried.

“I-I’m cumming again—Fuck—Vi-Violet!”

With a final gasp, your body tensed, waves of pleasure crashing over you. The wave hit you all at once, and you came right on her tongue, your breath ragged, moans slipping from your lips uncontrollably. Vi held you through it, her grip on your hand tightening, her tongue slowing down on your pussy.

After a while, she finally lifted her head up and looked at you, her eyes half-lidded and hazy with exhaustion, a satisfied smile tugging at her lips. Her face was flushed, her skin slick with sweat, and her chin glistened with your cum, like she was wearing it with pride.

She moved slowly, her lips trailing up your body. Her kisses were gentle at first, but the further she traveled, the more urgent they became, each one pressing deeper against your skin, right over each mark and hickey are left behind earlier. She kissed your stomach, your ribs, each kiss a little firmer, a little more hungry, until she reached your chest, her breath mingling with the heat of your skin.

When she finally reached your neck, she paused, her breath shaky against your skin, and you felt the faintest tremor under her fingertips. Then, without warning, she was kissing you again, her lips pressing against yours with a hunger that mirrored the one she’d just left between your legs, whimpering and moaning right into your mouth. You could taste yourself on her lips, a faint sweetness that made your pulse quicken all over again.

When the kiss broke, both of you were breathless, your lips swollen and tingling. Vi pulled back slightly, her eyes heavy-lidded, a soft smile playing on her lips as she gazed down at you.

“I love you,” she said.

You barely caught your breath, the lingering aftershocks from everything that had just passed through your body.

“I love you, too,” you managed to say, words coming out breathlessly.

Her smile softened, her gaze melting into something tender as she stared down at you.

She bit her lower lip nervously before asking, “Did I do okay?”

You couldn’t help but smile lovingly at her, your heart swelling with affection. Without a word, your hands reached up to brush the mess of pink hair from her face, the softness of the gesture grounding you both in the moment. Her hair was tangled, strands sticking to her skin, but she was beautiful—more than beautiful, especially in this moment where everything felt real and raw.

“It felt… so good, Violet… You were perfect,” you whispered.

She held your gaze, her eyes flickering relief and pride. You leaned up slightly, brushing your lips against her forehead in a tender kiss, as if to reinforce what you’d just said. Perfect. In every way.

Vi’s lips curled into a smug, satisfied smile as she heard you, and you couldn’t help but notice the gleam in her eyes—proud, almost playful, like she knew exactly what she had just done to you. Without missing a beat, she leaned down, pressing soft, teasing kisses along your neck. She let herself collapse on top of you, her body heavy and warm, her big, strong muscles wrapping around you firmly. She nuzzled her face into your neck, her breath warm against your skin, close to your ear.

“I… I’m gonna let you rest, but…” She said quietly, almost shy. She paused, just for a moment, before continuing, her words sending a thrill through you, “I wanna go again...“

You looked up at her, eyes widening slightly as you tried to catch your breath. Your arms wrapped around her loosely around her neck, your fingers brushing the hairs at the back of her head. Vi sighed at the feeling, closing her eyes for a brief moment before opening them again to look at you, to plead with her eyes.

“Can we?”

That playful, confident side of her was back again, and you knew then, with absolute certainty, that you were in for a very long night.

thank u for reading :) | masterlist

#b’s writings #vi <3 #vi x reader #vi arcane #arcane x reader #league of legends #fanfic

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