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#how does peter come up with this shit?
marvel-lous-guy · 2 years
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Peter: If there was a zombie apocalypse... couldn't you bite the zombie and it would turn back into a human?
Tony: ...what?
Peter: well,  if a zombie bites you, you turn into a zombie... so would a zombie turn into a human if a human bit it?
Tony: No, I didn't mean "what" as in elaborate. I meant it as in "how the fuck does your brain come up with this shit"
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scoliosisgoblin · 28 days
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doodles and some lore. I'm tired.
#Jay does this thing on second dates where he tests the other person#he wants to make sure they'd like all of him. every part of him that may throw others off or realize he's insane#Matt and Jay were friends during high school. dated in college and broke up just before finding out Jay was pregnant#they decided to co-parent Mona and just view one another as friends#Mona really likes Don and Tk. loves Peter. though dislikes Lucy quite a bit because of how much she hears Jay complain about her with Matt#Mona is very close with Jay despite living with Matt and only coming over to Jay during the holidays/some weekends#Jay moved into the complex about a year prior to meeting Peter. he's had 5 roommates since moving in#Lucy has been the worst compared to the rest but is the only one Jay tolerates (since she's young and reminds him of himself. pretransition#Jay and Don hated each other in the beginning. only really bonded over talking shit about a neighbor#and Jay saying “anyway I gotta finish watching the game.” Don saying how he wanted to too but his tv is fucked so they watch together#Tk does have feelings for Jay but Jay just can't take the hint. he simply just thinks he's making jokes and is very kind#Jay really cares about Lucy. he often checks up on her when she's out and buys her dinner if he didn't make anything for them#and she ofc tries to make his life easier by cleaning the apartment making him coffee in the mornings etc etc#also Jay and Don sometimes just talk about marriage. how both of theirs didn't work out (I headcanon that for Don)#how it'd go - Don: I just wish I showed her how much I cared... Jay: I chased mine down with a knife. didn't kill her though. I promise.#Jay also calls Don's kid (the cop) Don Jr. he doesn't mind it that much. it's mainly cause Jay never remembers his name#my art#yb peter#Yb don#Void#Jay#Yb tk#Yb lucy#none of them die btw. Peter kills some guy who treated Jay poorly#the entirety of Jay and Peter's relationship before the abduction takes place over June#I say so cause it was a bit alarming to Tk. Don and Matt how fast Jay was rushing into the relationship and such#anyway uhh idk what else to say
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dolokhoded · 2 months
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i'm supposed to be studying but i have a hot take which is that could we start again please should have been an ensemble number mostly led by mary and peter's verse should've been divided to him, john and james if not more of them
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cherrysnax · 9 months
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I love Peter Parker right? kill him. Kill him to death. let him be dead fr there is no point in continuing his story if they’re just gonna disrespect his character like this over and over again
#miles college years RISEEEEE#but also I just want peter to have a writer who does him and his side characters and the citizens of new york justice again#I put down the jms run because there is a trans misogynistic joke every two fucking pages and I want him dead for that#+ the shit with Gwen and everything leading into one more day#but the early writing with Pete being a teacher at his old school may dealing with the fact that peters been lying to her since he was a kid#mj and her career and her choices and Pete’s choices on how they wanna develop their relationship with no secrets no jealousy etc#the world felt alive if that makes sense#hell even the shit with Ezekiel was fun#despite uh everything that came from it#Pete’s little team ups with doctor strange and loki of all people felt#idk it felt real?? and it mostly wasn’t just riding on the tails of PETER OARKER HAS TO SUFFER#he was able to talk to uncle Ben for just a few minutes#when after he got his ass handed to him#and it felt good and rewarding and -_- I miss spider-man#and now that they’re banking on miles and MILES IS IN HIS BAG#it seems like the best time to just. pull the trigger#miles was one of the best things to come out of ultimate universe#abd while I have problems with it ultimate Spider-Man is a wonderful take that keeps getting fucking adapted#but still#it feels like natural progression#ditch multiverse let Peter die#BUT KEEP HIS IDENTIY A SECRET TROM THE PUBLIC#UGH#man they need to reboot or SOMETHING
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innytoes · 2 years
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21 + 46 and Reggie/Alex/Willie?
Dystopian AU + Blind Date
Anon I am so sorry but I cannot not make this pun. This is a Day of the Triffids AU. Basically, everyone who saw a mysterious asteroid shower woke up blind the next day (which is a huge portion of the population since everyone was really hyped about it). Also there's walking plants who will murder you with their tongues and then feast on your corpse.
Considering the chaotic mess the world was, they'd done alright for themselves, really. It probably helped that the band had been super tight beforehand, and that Carlos and Reggie had been super into zombie apocalypse movies. It was really not that big of a stretch to turn a zombie apocalypse plan into a 'my entire family and the whole world is blinded' plan.
In the beginning, Reggie had been the only one in their group who could see, and that was pure dumb luck. He'd forgotten what day it was, worked a full shift at the coffee shop, worked on the song he'd wanted to show Luke later, and then crashed like thirty minutes before the meteor shower was supposed to start, sleeping through all of it.
So yeah, in the beginning, it had been rough. Terrifying. Getting around as a sighted person had its own perils. Plenty of people were willing to get really violent for their chance at a sighted person to lead them around. They'd quickly worked out a system: Luke up front, Reggie subtly steering his shoulders through squeezes. That way, they moved like the others, didn't attract unwanted attention.
It was better when they'd linked up with Flynn's family. Flynn's mom was blind, had been most of her life. She'd helped the others, taught them how to get around. She's started teaching them braille. Alex' little sister, Stevie, and Carlos were picking it up quick as anything. She also loved to garden, so over the summer they'd turned a lot of the available front yard space into edible plants. Reggie's job was to do the morning patrols, finding and burning any triffid podlings that had taken root before they could become dangerous.
That's how he'd found Willie, who had been crouched in front of one of the tomato plants, shoving them in his mouth. He'd spoken before he could think about it, scolding him about not waiting until they were ripe, and Willie had shrugged and said 'they're red aren't they'. Both had realised their mistake almost immediately, but before Willie could run - or skate - away, Reggie had offered him a place to stay.
Willie fit in with their little group perfectly. He was friendly, funny, and just the right amount of chaotic. He was also beautiful, and kind, and great with kids. His laugh was the prettiest sound in the world and he knew how to get pretty much anyone out of a funk. So yeah, Reggie was smitten.
But when he’d seen Alex and Willie grow closer, of course Reggie had taken a step back. Alex deserved the world. Besides, Reggie had other responsibilities, he shouldn’t waste time mooning over some boy. He’d done it before, pushed down his crush on Alex even before the whole world fell apart, and now that was just a dull ache. In time, the same would happen with Willie, and he could move on and be happy for them.
It would be easy to hide his feelings, he figured, since only one person was around to see him. But one day Julie had followed him out during his morning patrol and confronted him about it in the most gentle way she could, and he’d spent an hour just crying in her arms. She’d urged him to talk to Willie and Alex, hinting that there might be feelings there as well, but he’d blown her off, taking her hand and describing the gardens to her while he weeded out any problems. They’d only gone back when Julie had promised his voice didn’t sound all wobbly and hoarse.
He’d forgotten to check if his eyes were still red and puffy. Because of course he had. He hadn’t had to worry about what he looked like in literal years. Which Willie of course noticed. Which had lead to the whole thing coming out anyway, Julie dragging Luke out of the studio by his ear so they could have some privacy.
They’d been dating ever since. And it was perfect. Except dates in the post apocalypse were really more ‘having dinner in the garage alone’ or ‘going to pick the tomatoes together’. It was dangerous to go outside of their little fenced off corner of the neighbourhood. It was hard for Alex to get around in the empty houses on the street, because he hadn’t memorised where everything was.
Still, on the nights the spent together on the pull-out sofa in the garage, the privacy was heaven. Curling up against Alex, playing with Willie’s hair, kissing them both without fear of being interrupted by his little brother or Luke who had an amazing song idea, it was bliss. Tonight, they were discussing things they missed from before the apocalypse. Willie missed skating competitions, and the internet. Reggie was sad they’d never make the next season of his favourite show. Alex sighed, and said he missed the beach.
Which was totally a fixable thing. It had taken them a few weeks, talking to the others behind Alex’ back, making sure everyone was okay with their day trip, preparing the safest route. Willie was the one who usually went outside their neighbourhood, scavenging and skating around. He’d mapped the safest route to the safest beach, getting rid of as many triffids as he could along the way.
But then the day had come. Ray had waited for them at the door, giving him a hug. Reggie had clung to him, nervous. He didn’t want to leave them alone. He’d been responsible for their safety for so long, it felt wrong to leave. Which was exactly why he should, Flynn’s mother had told him firmly, the week before. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?” he asked.
“I’m sure,” Ray said. “You boys deserve this. Go have fun. And Reggie...” He paused, and Reggie tensed. “Remember to wear sunscreen.” Ray winked at him, squeezing his arms before ushering him out of the door. 
The walk to the beach was long, and slightly tense. Willie had a make-shift molotov cocktail in one hand, and Alex’ hand in the other. Reggie was on Alex’ other side, quietly leading them around debris and muttering a running commentary of what he saw around them.
They set off at first light, so they didn’t really run into many people, and they were mostly able to avoid the ones who were out, only stopping to make polite conversation with a group of women lead by an old lady with a guide dog. They told them that the beach seemed to be clear today, as Rover hadn’t alerted once while they heard the waves. They even let Reggie give Rover a quick pet, and Alex joked that whatever happened, Reggie’s day was already made.
When they could hear the waves, Willie climbed one of the palm trees to scout the area, declaring Rover was right and it seemed to be all clear. As soon as they hit the sand, Alex laughed, stopping. He yanked his shoes off, and Reggie smiled, shoving them in his backpack while Willie pulled Alex towards the waves.
They played in the sand and the water for hours, taking turns floating on their backs, splashing at each other, just sitting in the surf and letting the waves crash over them. Kissing each other with salty lips. Eating the lunch that Flynn’s mom had packed them. Laying on their backs and soaking up the sun. Maybe even spreading out the big towel they’d packed and... taking advantage of the privacy they had (after they checked and reassured Alex there was nobody around, of course).
And when they got home, salty and sated and happy, they were welcomed with open arms, a home cooked meal, and a good bit of healthy teasing when the first thing Reggie said when asked how it had been was: “I pet a dog!”
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ghost-with-a-teacup · 10 months
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𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 (𝐈𝐈)
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Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader
Summary: After you reveal the truth of what your relationship really was between you and Miguel, everyone's keen on learning more. So what better way to give a little more insight than a dinner at your shared home?
Warnings: None~ Just back again with silly shenanigans and the softest of fluff :3
A/N: Hello, everyone! After the first part of 'What's In Between' blew up (you can read it here, thank you so much by the way, you're all so sweet), many people have asked for a part two, so here it is! Enjoy <3
The moment you break the news to them, the volume of the table booms to a fever pitch as everyone begins talking at the same time.
“W-WHAT?!”
“Married? No way,” Hobie says.
“How long have you been together?” Pavitr asks.
“I can’t say I saw this coming…” Miles says, eyes widening in surprise.
Miguel had been watching you the moment you snuck up on the group, but with the newfound panic from everyone he couldn’t help but make his way over to the commotion.
“You’re all being loud, what are you yelling about now?” Miguel asks, walking over and standing by your side.
“HOW COULD YOU NOT TELL US YOU WERE MARRIED?!” Gwen shouts.
“You never asked,” he blinks, “and also, it’s none of your business.”
“Miguel, as your best friend I am deeply offended that you haven’t told me after this long, does our friendship mean nothing to you?” Peter says, hand on his chest in pretend hurt.
“You are not my best friend,” Miguel deadpans.
“After I opened up to you no less, I mean, you were the first person I told about Mayday! All the details-” he continues, ignoring the comment.
“Not by choice,” he mutters.
“Does no one know about this?? At all???” Pavitr asks, “I mean, you two are married.”
“I mean, Jess knows about it,” you gesture, and she only grins.
“And now all of you do too,” Miguel sighs. “Vida mía, I thought we talked about this,” he admonishes.
“Oh, c’mon, it was cute how they were all trying to figure it out for so long. I was starting to feel bad,” you say, smoothing your hair back. He only stares at you for a moment before sighing.
“Fine,” he relents, “Can’t do anything about it now anyway.” He smiles softly at you, and the group watches in awe as their cold leader softens in your presence, but his gaze quickly grows dark as he turns back to the group.
“One word of this to anyone outside of this group,” he says with a pointed finger before trailing off, allowing everyone to fill in the blanks as to what he might do.
Everyone’s faces pale like a sheet at the unnamed threat (well, except for Hobie, he only watches with blatant amusement on his face), but you only laugh.
“Miguel, don’t threaten the kids,” you giggle. “Don’t worry, he’s all bark and no bite,” you whisper to them with a wink.
“Hey, that’s what I say!” Peter says.
“You are his best friend after all,” you grin.
“I have never said those words a day in my life,” he scoffs, but you ignore him, eyes lighting up with an idea.
“Oh! I have a lovely idea, how about you all swing by our place for dinner later? We never have guests,” you suggest.
Gwen gasps, “Really?”
“This…maybe doesn’t seem like the best idea,” Miles says as he shrinks down in his seat at Miguel’s glare towards you.
“I have plans tonight…though I don’t think they’d mind if I cancel,” Hobie says nonchalantly, but everyone knew there was no way in hell he’d miss something like this.
“What am I, cat litter?” Jess asks. She was the only person to have been at your shared home, having joined around the same time as you, and being one of the few people Miguel fully trusts.
“You know it's not like that, Jess,” you turn to her with a grin.
“Absolutely not, it's already a liability that they know querida, now you want them traipsing into our home?” Miguel argues, and you narrow your eyes at him, never one to back down from a fight. While it got on his nerves, it's what he loved about you too. He needed someone that wouldn’t take his shit.
“Miguel,” you say, giving him a look. “All our enemies are literally in alternate universes who, aside from those small tears, have no way to go cross-dimensional, let alone find us in the expanse of a universe. Besides, I think it would be nice,” you say, and Mayday seems to agree since she climbs right up into your arms, babbling happily.
“And don’t think I don’t know you have a soft spot for this lil ragtag team,” you smile, bouncing up and down as Mayday laughs.
He huffs, “I am anything but soft, especially for them. They never listen, don’t follow protocol, are immature, and the list goes on.”
“He’s lying,” you whisper, covering your mouth from his direction as though that would stop him from happening. Mayday grabs your hand though, playing with your fingers happily. “See how his ears are turning red?”
At that, his ears turn more red and the group tries to stifle their snickers to no avail.
“Querida,” he warns. “Do you feel the need to share anything else about me? Or have you had enough,” he asks, poking your shoulder. You place a hand on his bicep with a gentle smile, and his expression softens much to his dismay.
“Honey, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you grin. “Alright, it’s settled then! You’re all coming over tonight.”
~
You hummed softly to yourself as you moved around the kitchen, preparing the food for dinnertime when everyone would be coming over.
Then, you feel the hair rise on the back of your neck as a familiar presence makes himself known, strong arms wrapping around your waist as his head rests on top of yours.
“Vida mía, the food smells good,” he says softly before sighing. “But I’m not very happy with you today.”
You let out a sigh of your own as you turn off the stove before turning around in his arms to face him.
“Miguel, my love,” you say, smoothing out the collar of the pullover he wore before looking up at him. “I know you well, don’t I?”
“More than anyone,” he says, the corner of his mouth lifting the tiniest amount as he presses a kiss to your forehead.
“Then it’s safe to assume that you’ve been wanting to hang out with more people in the Society apart from work-related things?” you ask, placing your hand on his chest.
“I can’t afford anything like that in this line of work, you know that querida,” he sighs, that familiar hardened look in his eyes for a moment.
“Miguel, your only friends can’t be me, Lyla and Jess,” you pout.
“Vida mía, you are my wife,” he says.
“Yes, and it's miracle enough that I was able to grow close enough to you to get to that point,” you chuckle, “so my existence in your life is proof itself that you are capable of growing close to people. I’ve seen you, I think you’re ready and deep down I know you don’t always want to be perceived as the cold and unfeeling leader of the Society. Why not start with them?”
“That’s not a decision for you to make,” he says, glancing away from you.
“I know, and I’m sorry,” you apologize, feeling a bit guilty that you threw Miguel into this without warning. “I should have spoken to you about it first but who knows. Maybe this is a good thing, opening your heart a little more,” you explain. “Don’t think I realize you’re the hardest on them because you believe in them,” you smile.
He huffs before pausing to think for a moment. “Sometimes I wonder when you snuck your little way into my head, querida.”
“Admit it, you’re growing soft,” you giggle softly.
“Never,” he counters, tickling your side which makes you scrunch up your face as you laugh breathlessly.
“OKAY! Okay, you’re one soft fluffy teddy bear, happy?” you say which only makes him continue with even more fervour.
“That is the most ridiculous thing I think I have ever heard you say, querida,” he snorts but finally relents.
“Yeah….I can’t even say that with a serious face,” you chuckle. “But you do have your moments, tough guy,” you smile, leaning up on your tippy toes to press a kiss to his lips.
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever,” he rolls his eyes. That’s when the doorbell rings, and immediately your eyes light up.
“Oh! They’re here!!” you say excitedly, escaping from his grasp as you move to open up the door.
“Here we go,” he murmurs to himself, and you turn to face him.
“What was that?” you ask.
“Nothing, vida mía,” he replies, and you narrow your eyes in disbelief.
“Behave, Miguel,” you tell him.
“Wouldn’t dream of anything else,” he replies, and you grin before opening up the front door.
There, you find Miles, Gwen, Pavitr, Peter (alongside Mayday of course), Hobie and Jess all standing outside, chatting amongst themselves before turning to you.
Miles almost looks like he’s in disbelief like he couldn’t really believe this was your home quite yet.
“Hi!” Gwen starts.
“Took you lot long enough,” Hobie says. “Was starting to think we'd have to build a fire and cook it ourselves.” Gwen punches his shoulder, to which he lets out a little “Ow!”
“Sorry about him,” Gwen apologizes.
You just find yourself laughing at it all though.
“No apologies needed, we were a little preoccupied. Come on in, make yourself at home,” you say, opening the door a little wider for them to make their way through.
“Not too at home though,” you hear Miguel say, leaning into the foyer from the living room, arms crossed over his chest.
“Ignore him,” you say, giving him a pointed look to which he just stares at you blankly. “Dinner will be ready soon, I just have to set the table and we can eat, alright?”
“It smells delicious,” Pavitr says, “I’m starving.”
Mayday seems to agree as she crawls up from the baby carrier onto Peter’s head, making grabby hands from the top.
“Someone’s hungry,” Peter chuckles. “Got anything she can eat?”
“I have a few things, don’t worry,” you smile.
“It really does smell really good though, but it always does,” Jess adds.
“It’s nothing special,” you say sheepishly. “Just some of Miguel’s favourites.”
You guide them all into the living room. “Settle in! I’ll be done in a snap,” you say.
As you make your way back to the kitchen (with Jess joining you to help out), back in the living room the squad of spiders settle in almost hesitantly, a watchful eye monitoring all of their reactions.
No one dares say anything, only sitting around nervously.
“So…nice weather we’re having,” Peter says, trying to lighten the mood but even Mayday gives him a deadpanned expression.
Miguel sighs. “You’re all acting like there’s a ticking time bomb waiting for you to speak before setting off,” he says, still leaning up against the doorway.
“We don’t know, mate. Is there?” Hobie jokes, but Miles’ face drops anyway.
“There isn’t, for the record. I can be harsh but I’m not evil,” Miguel scoffs before making eye contact with Pavitr who looks like he wanted to ask something but was holding back.
“One question,” he says simply with a nod.
“How long have you two been together?”
“…a little over 4 years now,” he replies.
“How did you meet?” Gwen asks.
“I said one question,” he says before your voice cuts in.
“My universe was one of the first he visited! He hated me back then, though,” you laugh as you walk back in. “Speaking of which!! I have some things you might all want to see after dinner,” you grin mischievously.
“I thought you said I was the one that had to behave, mi corazón,” Miguel says, a warning tone in his voice.
“And I am, aren’t I?” you say, poking his side playfully. “Anyway, dinner’s ready,” you say, leading them to the dining room. “I know it's not much but-”
“How in the hell is this not much??” Hobie exclaims, and you just shrug. “You should see dinner with my family, then you will think that it’s not much,” you say with a chuckle.
On the table sat a wide expanse of food, all of Miguel’s favourites from Mexico. Empanadas as the appetizer, alongside pozole, ceviche, enchiladas, and chicken with mole poblano all served with a side of rice, beans, or homemade corn tortillas depending on each person’s preference.
You can see Miguel’s eyes visibly brighten as he looks at the food, settling in at the head of the table with you by his side.
“Come eat!” As you say that, everyone sits down before beginning to eat, everyone heading straight to what appealed to them the most.
“This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted,” Miles says, eyes closed in bliss.
“Oye, don’t let your Mother hear that, kid,” Miguel says, but the corner of his lip was upturned in the tiniest of smiles. The most he would allow himself around this many people.
“Thank you, Miles,” you smile.
“This, uhh, how do you say it again? Poh-zuhl?” Gwen asks, and you laugh out loud as she turns pink, meanwhile both Miguel and Miles cringe slightly.
“I’m sorry for laughing, sweetheart. You’re almost there; it’s pronounced like ‘poh-zoh-lay’,” you say kindly.
“Ohh, okay gotcha. Pozole. It’s really good! Feels…comforting, almost,” she says.
“Yes,” you say, glancing at your husband with a soft smile, “it’s Miguel’s favourite. Says it ‘tastes like home’.” A chorus of ‘awws’ go around the table, while Miguel only holds the bridge of his nose with a sigh.
“Alright, alright. Enough with the cheesy stuff, let’s get back to eating, yeah?” Hobie says before shoving his fork back into his mouth.
~
Once dinner was finished (and after both Miles and Gwen insisted that they did the dishes despite much argument from you), everyone was settled again in the living room laughing and talking together, and while Miguel only said a few things here and there and sat by your side like a lost puppy, he did seem to be enjoying himself.
“Alright! Now, before everyone goes back home, I have one more thing I’d like to show you,” you say once it quiets down a bit. Standing up, you make your way over to a large bookshelf you and Miguel had built together when you first moved in together.
“I’ve gotten tired of having only myself to show these photos to, so this is the perfect opportunity,” you smile.
“Querida-” Miguel says, holding out a hand to block your way but you look at him with pleading eyes, and he can’t do anything but relent. He couldn’t say no when you looked at him like that.
With a triumphant ‘haha!’ you grab a photo album labelled with a date and a single word; ‘Ours’.
Everyone crowds around as you place it down on the coffee table, and you open it up to the first page.
Gwen is the one that gasps first, eyes wide with awe.
“You both look so beautiful,” she says softly.
There, front and centre was a photo of you and Miguel on your wedding day. You were smiling wide at the camera, a bouquet of your favourite flowers in hand while Miguel only looked at you with an expression so in awe it was as though you painted the stars in the sky.
“You clean up nicely, big man,” Hobie comments, and Pavitr nods.
“Weddings, my favourite,” Jess says, a fond expression on her face as she thinks back to her own husband.
“I had a bird fly into my face at my wedding…but they are nice,” Peter says, rocking Mayday gently as she naps away after the hearty dinner even despite the commotion.
You continue to flip through the photobook, pausing periodically for a little anecdote about each one. Miguel had long stood up to make room for everyone else, but he looked at you in the same way he did on your wedding day.
Like you were the light of his life, the one good thing he had amongst the millions of universes parallel to his own. Like you were his everything.
~
“Admit it, you like them,” you smile, the house finally quiet after everyone headed home. He only rolls his eyes before pulling you into his lap, his face going into the crook of your neck as he holds you close.
“There is a big difference between ‘liking’ and ‘tolerating’, sweetheart,” he says, rubbing circles into your hip soothingly.
“Yeah, yeah, tough guy. Whatever you say,” you reply, wrapping your arms around his neck and settling into his touch with a happy sigh.
You both sit there for a moment in silence, the two of you weren’t ones to fill silence with mindless chatter. If words needn’t be said then they weren’t.
“That was…nice, though,” he admits softly after a little while.
“I know,” you whisper.
~
~
~
“That won’t happen again for a long while though,” he says, pulling away to look at you, crimson eyes pleading with you wordlessly.
You can’t do anything but laugh.
Taglist (for those who requested a part two): @lotustv @mars-ifuknowmeirlplsgoaway @elliewilliamsactualgf @randomhumans-blog @iluvkonig @phillygraves @gothgirlziez
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Kinktober 2022
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Prompt: Dry Humping
Pairing: Peter Parker x afab!reader
Summary: Peter doesn’t think he could come from just dry humping, you prove him wrong.
18+ ONLY. MINORS DNI
Authors note: personally i thought of tasm!peter while writing this but any of them can work. this is basically 2am thoughts, not edited.
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“i’m sorry, but there’s no fucking way someone could make me come from dry humping me.” peter splutters a laugh.
for the last hour, the two of you had been laughing over your tragedy of a love life.
“i mean, you totally would after a while, but he came after like two minutes of me grinding on him,” you wipes the tears from your eyes. “honestly it’s kinda flattering.” getting up to grab a drink from the fridge, peter narrows his eyes at you.
“i mean, i don’t think i could come from dry humping. like i don’t care how hot the girl is, there’s no way,” he laughs again.
“i don’t know parker,”
“what do you mean you don’t know? grinding with clothes on doesn’t even feel that good,”
“i bet i could make you come,” the room falls silent, and glancing at peter you realise his baffled look. “what? i wasn’t saying i will, i was saying i could.” you nonchalantly resume your position on the sofa, pulling open the tab of your soda
“sorry to bruise your ego, but there’s literally no way. maybe after like an hour, but i doubt you’d make it that long without begging me to fuck you,” it was your turn to be surprised. you’d never felt like this before, or at least not because of peter.
well, of course there was that time he walked out of the shower dripping, towel hung low. oh and there was that time he gave you a hickey, as a dare of course. there’s no way peter fucking parker, your best friend, was turning you on. right?
“so you’re saying, if i got on top of you right now, there’s no way you’d come.” you’re smirk was so strong it almost hurt your cheek.
“that’s exactly what i’m saying”
“then let’s test out your theory”
before he can even blink, you’ve swung a leg over his lap, now straddling him.
“you can tell me if you want me to get off.” you stare at each other, almost daring the other to break.
“i mean, if this is the only way we can see who’s right, we have to do it i guess,” his eyes are glassy and pupils blown out. beneath your cunt a small twitch bellows from beneath his pants.
you hop off his lap, shimmying down your jeans. peters look of bewilderment dialled up even more, if that was even possible.
“it’s not fair with jeans on,” you strip down to a pair of pink panties, lace trimming the edges.
“what? that’s cheating…” peter says barely above a whisper as you reach for the loop of his belt.
now both pants-less, you sit back on his lap, and he hisses as your heat sits on the thin layer between his cock
“it’s not too late to admit that you would come from dry humping” you taunt, pushing down slightly.
“never.”
you start slow, moving rhythmically along his dick, feeling every vein through the thin undergarments
peters eyes close and he throws his head back
“shit. i wasn’t expecting it to feel like this.” a particularly well placed grind makes him thrust up, hitting your clit just right
an almost pornographic moan leaves your chest, making peter moan in turn.
your grinding becomes faster, harder, and in tandem with peters thrusts
“sure you won’t come?” you trail your nails over his chest, asking for permission to take his shirt off.
he pulls it off in one swift movement before answering. “i told you. never.” his brown locks stick to his forehead, a thin layer of sweat sheathing his skin
the now accessible skin of his chest is now free real estate, and the trailing of your nails, gently drifting over his nipples down to his happy trail seems to be torturing him.
it annoys you though that he won’t look at you, opting to throw his head back, eyes closed.
it does however, give you an idea
you practically rip your shirt off, stiff nipples pointing straight up.
“pete, look at me,”
and now he can’t keep his eyes off you.
as if he’s never seen tits before, his eyes boggle as you continue sliding your cunt up and down.
a mixture of his precum and your wetness aids these movements, and peter thinks he could die happily right now.
but he remembers why this is all happening in the first place.
he can’t come
but he needs to come.
the slick, dirty sounds that come from below, the smell, the sensation, it’s all too much for poor pete.
“touch me,” you whisper, attempting to maintain dominance, but it’s getting hard to focus on anything with the coil building up in your stomach
peters shaky hands palm your tits, pinching your nipples and caressing your side.
“i can’t.. s’ too much..” he struggles to speak as your grinding gets deeper, shifting angles slightly.
“what’s too much. spit it out baby,”
“m’ gonna cum,” peters never felt this before. he’s been with girls. he’s fucked girls. and yet nothing has felt this overwhelming, this overstimulating, this good.
“come for me peter. i want you to come on my pussy.”
a warm burst hits your core as you spasm on his dick. your simultaneous orgasms hit like a tonne of bricks. the thick spurts of cum soak your underwear, more than previously thought possible.
you rest your head on peters shoulder, gasping for air.
“told you so,”
“fuck you,”
“next time.”
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l0velysmut · 5 months
Text
miguel o’hara x fem!reader
contains: short smut, jealous miguel, dom!miguel, p in v, unprotected sex, rough sex, creampie, brief breeding kink.
wc: 1.3k unedited
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Once again, Miguel has caught you in the middle of a conversation with a random Peter Parker. One that Miguel’s told you multiple times to stay away from because the man looks at you as if he’s undressing you with his eyes.
Of course, that’s not really the case, but Miguel gets in his own head and over thinks whenever he sees you talking to another man. He believes that since he’s a man, he knows how other men think.
But you’ve reminded him over and over again that no man or woman could compare to him. Nobody could make you feel as loved as he does, or make you feel as much pleasure as he does, so there’s no need for him to be jealous, but he constantly feels the need to remind you.
So that’s how you got in the position you’re currently in.
You’re bent over Miguel’s desk in his dimly lit office, legs shaking as he pistons his girthy cock in and out of your weeping hole. His legs are in between yours, keeping your shorter legs spread for him.
Your suit had been ripped to shreds for the millionth time this month, so Miguel had a clear view of his cock sliding in and out of you with ease due to how wet he made you.
Your juices are dripping down your inner thighs, and you can’t help but moan every time the tip of his cock kisses your cervix each time he thrusts into you roughly.
“You wanna act like a little slut, then I’ll treat you like one.” He says in a gruff voice, putting his hand on your head, pushing your cheek into his desk.
“Miguel!” You call out his name weakly, attempting to push at his abs which were covered by his suit since the only part of him that wasn’t covered by the impressive technology was his cock.
He groans when your walls clamp around him, nearly trapping him inside of you. He licks his lips and looks down at where you two connect, then his eyes trail up a little to your other hole which was clenching around the air.
He brings the hand that wasn’t holding your head down to your ass, squeezing the flesh in his large palm before giving it a light smack. His thumb then shifts to your butt hole, and he presses his thumb against it, making you moan loudly and shiver beneath him.
“Shit,” He mumbles. “It’s like you want everyone to hear us, dirty girl.”
He pushes his thumb in a little bit, and you try to squirm away from him. When he notices, he takes both of his hands and grabs your hips, pulling you closer to him and sinking his cock deeper inside of you — if that was even possible.
“Where you going, mami? Huh?” He growls, fucking you harder and rougher.
The grip he has on your hips would for sure leave bruises, but you didn’t have a care in the world because the way he was fucking you was turning you into a blathering mess.
You could feel your orgasm coming, and you tried to alert Miguel, but the second you opened your mouth, only a string of moans left it.
Your brain felt like complete mush, and you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t like when Miguel got jealous.
“F-Fuck! Miguel!” You practically scream, not caring who could hear you two.
He stares you down as he grinds his hips into yours. You clench around him, causing a beautiful moan to leave his plump lips.
“You gonna cum, baby? Gonna make a mess on my cock?” He teases, one hand going up to your head to tangle his fingers into your hair. “Go ahead, pretty girl, cum for me.”
You whine and reach your hand behind you to try and stop him from fucking you as rough as he is, but he just takes both of your hands and pins them above your head, his upper body hovering over you.
He presses kisses to the side of your head, moaning and groaning into your ear.
With a few chants of his name, you finally felt blood thundering to your brain as euphoria crashes over you at a high intensity. You swear that you went deaf for a moment because for a few seconds, all you could hear was your heart pounding in your ears as white hot pleasure took over you.
“Ffffuck, yeah.” He groans as you cum around him, walls fluttering and spasming around his imposing girth. A smirk spreads across his face when he sees your entire body shaking which was caused by his pace which never faltered. You thought he would slow down, but no. He just continued to fuck you as if you didn’t need any time to recover from the fierce orgasm you just had.
“This is my pussy, do you hear me?” He shouts, and then chuckles when he sees your fucked out expression. “Course you can’t. Poor baby can’t hear a single thing.”
He lifts himself slightly, his hands releasing yours and placing his hands on either side of your head. He could feel his own climax boiling inside of him as he continues to fuck you at a brutal speed.
He grits his teeth, and a groan bubbles in his throat when his cock twitches repeatedly inside of you. His balls tighten, giving you a few more thrusts before he stops, eyes rolling into the back of his head as he empties his load inside of you, painting your walls with his thick cum.
He stays still for a moment, breathing so heavily that he’s practically panting. He remains deep inside of you, making sure all of his cum was pumped into you.
You lay there with your limbs shaking beneath him, trying to take deep breaths to calm your aching body down.
With a sigh, he pulls out of you slowly which makes you whimper at the empty feeling.
“You okay? I didn’t hurt you, right?” He asks, turning your body onto your back so you could look at him.
You shake your head, and open your arms, telling him that you wanted him in them.
“You were perfect,” You say to him with a small, tired smile. “Made me feel so good.”
He puts his head in the crook of your neck, and inhales your scent deeply, his eyes briefly turning their occasional shade of ruby red.
“Only I can make you feel this good, right? I’m the only one who can make your entire fucking body shake,” He softly rubs his large hand up and down your bare stomach. “I’m the only one that can fill you to the brim.”
“The only one.” You whisper, and wrap your arms around his neck.
You two stay like that for a moment before Lyla decides it’s time to stop minding her business and remind Miguel that you needed proper aftercare.
He grumbles and lifts off of you, taking Lyla’s word and going to get you some water, something to eat, and something new to wear.
As he walks down the halls of the Spider HQ, he doesn’t miss the way people either smirk at him or give him a horrified look. And his chest fills with pride when he makes eye contact with a certain Peter Parker who looked particularly scared and immediately looked away from Miguel’s menacing glare.
When Miguel reaches the cafeteria, Jess suddenly pops up next to him with a smirk and a knowing look.
“Sounds like someone had fun. Y’know, if you two don’t stop, Y/N might end up like me.” Jess says, a hand on her baby bump.
He glances down at her baby bump, and an eyebrow quirks. Then, an image of you with a baby bump forms in his brain, and he could feel his cock hardening once again.
He says nothing to her; just grabs some water and food and treads back down to his office, his mind buzzing with an overwhelming want to breed.
The second he came back, you could see something different in his eyes, and you noticed that his mood had shifted almost drastically.
“What’s wrong, Miggy?” You ask, placing a hand on his bicep.
“How would you feel about having a few kids?”
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a/n: idk how i feel ab this so lmk if y’all like it
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ginevrapng · 6 months
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you're alone with james in his room, lying in his bed and playing with his hair while he's laying his head on you. you've always loved playing with his hair and he's always loved you playing with it, he finds it relaxing and his hair is so silky and soft.
one of the many perks of him being head boy is that he has a separate room so he doesn't have to dorm with people anymore. he doesn't think there's a problem with sharing a room with his friends but when you used to come up to his room to spend time with him someone else would always be there talking to you, stealing your attention. he could handle when remus or sirius brought people back for the night with simple silencing charms and closing of the curtains but it was a different story when he wanted to see only you and instead you included everyone in the conversations you were having, you might have even ended up on one of the others bed. he wanted you all to himself. now that he's head boy he's gotten his wish and he gets all your attention.
james is so comfortable he could fall asleep. with the combination of you playing with his messy hair, him getting to feel your warmth and your cute squishy tummy underneath his head, he's in heaven. there's no place he'd rather be than with you.
you can tell that james is close to falling asleep due to him starting to talk less and when he does he does it languidly. "mmph, you're so comfy and soft."
you giggle at that, " 'm glad to hear it jamie. y'know if you end up falling asleep i'll do the same."
as you say that you hear sirius swinging the door open, followed by remus and peter. james grumbles at the noise and turns his head away from the door so he's laying with his cheek pressed up against you and nuzzles you. "you should of knocked sirius," remus scolds him.
"oh, give over. it's not like they were doing anything," sirius retorts.
james grabs hold of your waist tightly, silently wishing for them to leave and him to be able to continue nearly falling asleep on you. "yeah sirius, next time knock." james' heart beats quickly and his breathing hitches. is this a confession? "we could of been talking shit about you or conspiring against you." james wants to feel let down that it's not a confession about how you might have been together in ways that would constitute a silencing charm and closing of curtains, but he can't, you're so cute, just so very you, he laughs and true smile appears on his face, where his eyes crinkle at the corners with cheeks raised high.
"you may have forgotten prongs, because obviously i so rudely interrupted you, but we've got a prank planned with snivellus right now," sirius looks at you both and smirks.
"i thought you've been more careful with your pranks recently guys. why are you pranking snape?" you sit up and look at them all.
"because, my dear, snivellus deserves it," sirius replies leaning against the wall. james narrows his eyes at the term of endearment sirius called you, it went unnoticed by you but sirius noticed and smirked again.
you roll your eyes at 'snivellus deserves it', snape always deserves it but james said he'd try and be more careful this year since he's been appointed head boy and remus is a prefect as well. they said if they're going to be pulling anymore pranks they'll be more discrete but you don't think it will be discrete with the way sirius is talking.
"it was james' idea actually," remus adds on.
james sits up and he comes to his own defence quickly, "he a thousand percent deserves it this time."
you cross your arms and look at him annoyance, "you're not going to tell me why this time are you?"
"no, but you'll have to believe me on this." you grab hold of his arm and pout before dramatically falling back on the bed. james grins again as he takes that as a yes and pulls you back up. "are you gonna stay here until after 'm back?"
you shake your head and shuffle closer to him, " it's getting late jamie, i'm going back to m' dorm."
he thought you'd say that but he also had hoped that you'd stay and he'd come back with you asleep in his bed. "alright love, see you tomorrow morning?"
you nod you head and kiss his cheek before getting up, "night everyone, night jamie. please try not to get into any trouble tonight."
"can't make any promises," sirius tells you before remus whacks his arm.
"we'll be fine," peter reassures you.
"yeah, i'll keep everyone in check," remus tells you.
they successfully carried out their prank that night without getting caught. that morning you see snape with bright pink hair and the marauders grinning brightly. james grins the most, payback for calling my best friend someone you wouldn't touch with a ten-foot broomstick when rosier asked if you liked her and were friends. like she'd ever, EVER want to be friends with you, like she'd ever, EVER even tolerate you.
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patscorner · 2 days
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FAMILY DINNER
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Summary: Chris joins your family for dinner for the first time and it does not go as planned
Tw: Swearing, narcissistic dad, verbal arguing, panic attack mentions of alcohol use, mentions of ed(NO DETAIL), lmk if I missed something
______________________________
"Baby, it'll be fine. I'm sure they're not so bad." Chris spoke. It was 6:45, and you and Chris were heading to a family dinner. After you and him had started dating, him, his brothers, and your family have been begging to meet one another.
But you knew better. You knew your dad couldn't hold his tongue, and you knew your mom couldn't hold back her comments about how you sat, how you spoke, how you looked. You knew your brothers and your sisters knew how to mess with you, not enough to make you cry, but just enough to piss you off.
"Chris, you have no idea." You say, leg bouncing nervously as you both sat in the back seat of the van. You only agreed to go if Matt and Nick came with, knowing that Chris wasn't going to be able to keep his temper in check.
"Don't worry, y/n, it'll be okay. It's not like any of us are gonna provoke them. They don't have any reason to hate us." Matt chimed in from the drivers seat. Chris squeezed your thigh reassuringly.
"It's not you guys that I'm worried about." You muttered, biting your nails. You just hoped your dad didn't have much to drink tonight.
"Plus, we're youtubers, a little back handed comment isn't gonna affect us." Nick smiled triumphantly.
Boy, were they in for a treat.
____
After what felt like 2 minutes, Matt parked the car in front of your childhood home. You've dreaded this moment ever since you and Chris started dating. You knew the time would come, but you just ignored it and pushed it back as far as you could. But eventually, everyone became impatient, and you were pushed out of your comfort zone.
Chris wasn't prepared. None of them were because nothing could prepare them for what they were getting into. Growing up with 2 older brothers, a younger brother, and 2 younger sisters, you knew just how quick it could turn hostile. You knew how it could be peaceful one moment, and the next, 2 people are driving off, 3 are crying, and one is smashing plates.
It could get ugly quick. Mostly, you were able to hide most of your family troubles from Chris, only occasionally giving him bits and pieces. This was completely different. This was a full view of what and where you grew up, and if anything was off or revealed, Chris would be there to see. That scared the shit out of you.
And Chris knew that, so he didn't push, no matter how eager he was. He never pushed you to do anything that made you uncomfortable. This, though, meant a lot to him, so he did voice his opinion.
So here you were, standing outside of the home you grew up in, with your boyfriend and his triplet brothers. You take a deep breath before knocking.
Here we go.
You lean back into Chris, who's hand found home around your waist, squeezing gently. He kissed the crown of your head, whispering, "Relax, baby, we got this."
You nod as you hear the lock turn and the door open. Your oldest brother, Peter, who was 26, stood in front of you. He looked much different from the last time you'd seen him, which was like 2 years ago.
Last time you two were together was at Christmas when your dad decided to get plastered the morning of Christmas and destroyed everyone's presents. Thousands of dollars down the drain. You swallowed at the memory.
"C'mere kid." Was all Peter said before engulfing you into a long needed hug.
You melted into your brothers touch. "It's been too long. Way too long." You mumble against his chest.
When you pull away, you see tears in Peter's eyes. You slap his chest playfully, "Oh, you big baby, don't cry."
He laughs, shaking his head and rubbing his eyes. You laugh and hold his hand.
Nick clears his throat, bringing your and Peter's attention to the three same face boys.
"Oh! Yeah, Peter, meet my boyfriend, Chris, and his older brothers, Matt and Nick." You say, moving out of the way for the men to exchange greetings and hand shakes.
"I'd like to apologize in advance, I'm definitely gonna have trouble telling you guys apart." Peter laughs.
"Oh, don't worry about it. It happens all the time." Matt reassures. Nick and Chris nod in agreement.
"Okay, well, Dad's at the store - thank God -" He interrupted himself, putting his hands together and looking up, earning a chuckle from you, "but everyone else, excluding Cam, is here."
Your heart drops at his sentence. Your second oldest brother, Cameron, hadn't been to a family gathering since he moved out. You can't say you blame him, knowing your family, you wish you'd had the heart to leave too. It was still disappointing, despite how much you understood. Cam and you had always been the closest growing up, and your heart ached, knowing the rest of your family ruined that bond for you two. You and him were only 2 years apart, him being 22, and you being 20.
You knew you shouldn't have expected him to magically appear, but you were hopeful.
"That's okay. Let's go inside, I want them to meet the rest of the dumbasses." You say, trying to hide the disappointment, and it mostly worked, but when you turned around, you knew Chris knew.
He always knew.
You smiled at him and grabbed his hand, leading him into your house, gesturing Matt and Nick to follow.
Peter leads everyone down the hallway, the sound of playful yelling sounding from the living room. Peter took a left, walking into the room, smiling widely.
"Guess who's here!" He says happily, turning around to you, who stands in the doorway, smiling widely.
James, Maya, and Julia, your younger siblings, looked up and smiled widely.
"Y/nnnn!" Maya yelled, getting up and hugging you tightly. "Woah! Hey, hi baby." You say, smiling into her head.
Maya was the youngest, at 11 years old. She was the peacemaker, no matter how demanding, she probably had the best communication skills out of everyone. Which is saying something, she's 11.
"Alright, alright, save some for us." You look up and see your youngest brother, James, standing next to Julia, waiting their turn for a hug.
You let go of Maya and walk over to the 15 year old twins and embrace them tightly. God, how you missed them. This hug was shorter, only because your mother spoke up.
"Well, finally! What took you guys so long?" She asked, rolling her eyes. You break the hug, sighing heavily.
"Hi, mom. I'm happy to see you, too. Uh, this is Chris and his triplet brothers, Matt and Nick." You say, lifting your hand, gesturing towards the three men.
You smile as your siblings exchange greetings with the triplets, just as Peter did, happy that they were in a good mood. You turn back to your mom, who has a strange look on her face.
"What?" You ask, confused, sitting down on the couch next to her. "I thought you were only bringing your boyfriend? Or are you dating all three?"
Your eyes shoot to hers, a look of disgust covering your face. "What-Mom, no! Matt's talking to someone and Nick..." You cut yourself off, debating whether or not telling you mom about Nick's sexuality. It's not that your mom was homophobic, she just wasn't exactly open to it. You knew that if you told her, she'd figure out a way to make an untimely and out of pocket comment about it.
"Nick...?" Your mom gestures you to continue speaking.
You open your mouth to speak, but you hear the front door open. Oh shit. The party has started.
"Dad's here!" Maya shouts, running to the door. Chris sat down on the couch next to you, Matt and Nick next to him.
You notice Nick talking to Julia about her favorite music artists, and it looks like their having a good time. Peter and Matt seem to be getting along, while Chris and James talk about the most recent Celtics game.
Despite all the calm conversations going on around you, you can't help but feel nervous. Your dad's here, which puts everyone, at least on your side, on high alert, making sure they tiptoe on their words.
Chris notices you tense up and place his hand on your thigh, which you reach and squeeze his hand, not for his sake, but for yours.
Your dad walks in and freezes for a moment. It was a long moment, long enough for everyone to notice his presence and get silent. You and him stare at each other, not breaking eye contact for a minute.
Finally, after the deafening silence, you decide to speak. "Hey, dad." You breathe.
His shocked face turns into a soft smile. "Hey, kiddo, c'mere." You smile softly, cherishing the peace while it lasts. You stand up and walk over to your dad and embrace him. You knew what he was capable of, but you also knew how much he loved you and your siblings.
You could be mad at him all you wanted, but he's still your dad. "I missed you, y/n." He mutters into your head. You smile into his chest because as much as you hated to admit it, you missed him too. When he wasn't drunk or being an ass, he was a pretty awesome person.
You pull away, and he kisses your cheek before gesturing to the audience behind you. "And who are these fine gentlemen?" He asked.
You smiled. "That one's Chris, my boyfriend, and those are his triplet brothers, Nick and Matt." You say, gesturing to the boys, who wave as their introduced.
"Nice to meet you all, especially you, Chris." He smiles sarcastically. Here we go.
Suddenly, his demeanor changed. His shoulders tensed, and his fist clenched. You look at him curiously and wonder what flipped the switch, what pissed him off this time.
Chris smiles kindly. "Nice to meet you, too, sir."
Your dad nods before glancing at you and looking up again. "Dinner should be ready. How's everyone feel about spaghetti?" He clapsed his hands together.
He earns a collective 'yes' from everyone before picking up Maya in his arms and carrying her to the kitchen. Everyone stands up and begins to follow, except for you and Chris. He grabs your hand and pulls you closer to him.
"You okay, ma?" He asked. He must've noticed your demeanor change from happy and cheery to suspicious and confusion.
You nod your head hesitantly, still thinking about how quickly your father changed his mind about being kind. "Uh... yeah, yeah, I'm okay." You say softly.
He looks at you curiously. "Are you sure?" You nod again. "Yeah, let's go eat."
____
Quiet chatter amongst the families began at the dinner table, after everybody had gotten food. You noticed your anxiety seemingly grow stronger as the dinner continued. Nothing had happened yet, and that's what scared you.
Your leg bounced under the table, and despite Chris's attempts to soothe you by rubbing your thigh, nothing seemed to work. Even Chris's touch seemed to be too much, too overwhelming.
You feel your breathing catch in your throat, and suddenly, the gentle chatter becomes too overwhelming. The scraping of the forks echoed loudly in your ears as your hands started to sweat.
You stand up abruptly, catching the attention of all three triplets and James.
"Excuse me." You muttered before rushing to the bathroom and closing the door.
You curl into a ball, breathing heavily as tears fall from your eyes. You weren't having a panic attack yet, but if you didn't get your breathing in check, you'd get one soon.
You list off things in your head, things that make you happy. Sunshine, Chris, dogs in clothes, Chris, Sour Patch Kids, Chris
Speaking of which, you hear the door open, and you force yourself to look up, seeing your loving boyfriend. He got down on your level, taking your hand and putting it on his chest.
You catch on quickly, taking breaths that match his, well, kinda. Yours are shakier, but you're getting there. "It's okay, baby, you're okay. Shhh.." Chris whispers, his other hand rubbing your back.
You sigh as you finally take a deep breath of air, leaning your head against Chris's shoulder as he hands rub shapes on your back.
"It's okay, baby, you're stressing yourself out. It'll be okay." He whispers as he stands up and pulls you up with him.
He embraces you once again as you sniffle into his hoodie. You pull back and wipe your face aggressively, laughing quietly.
Chris cups your face, wiping your tears before pressing a kiss so soft, it was almost ghostlike, on your lips. You smile at him.
"Thank you, baby." You say rubbing his bicep in appreciation. He smiles down at you, kissing your forehead. "Of course, baby. I love you. Are you ready?"
You nod, and Chris opens the door, hand in yours as you all walk back into the dining room. Most conversations continued, but you noticed your dad and mom talking quietly amongst themselves, and it didn't look pleasant.
Your dad's eyes shoot to yours as he chuckles darkly.
Fuck. This can't end well.
"And what the fuck were you two doing?"
You smile, trying to swallow your fear. You notice Chris squeeze your hand, and you squeezed back in reassurance.
"Just had to take a breather. It's all good now, though, don't worry." You say as you and Chris sit down. You hope it's enough to satisfy your dad's curiosity, but unfortunately it's not.
"So you and him didn't just fuck in the bathroom." You freeze. Every conversation stops immediately at those words, as he wasn't quiet about it.
"What- dad, no. Why would you say that?" You sputter as a pink hue comes over your face. You glance at Chris, who's just as shocked as you.
"Sir, I'd never do that, especially here." Chris says calmly, but you can tell that one comment pissed him off completely.
Your dad stares at you both as a silence covers the room like a weighted blanket. Just when the tension seems to reach its peak, your dad speaks up.
"Good. Now, let's eat." He says, passing the food to you.
Jesus, this is gonna be a long night.
______________________________
Part 2 is coming soon.
@sturnioloblogs @y0urm4m @sturniolosmind @thenickgirl @muwapsturniolo @matthewsmocktailss-deactivated2 @breeloveschris @worldlxvlys @freshloveforthefit @miloisdone1 @vanteguccir @annamcdonalds67 @freshsturns @rootbeerworshiper @matty-bear @orangelala
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cosmal · 1 year
Note
✪ — sender  is  found  drunk  by  receiver, ❛ i just wanted to make sure you’re okay. ❜
tequila makes me sleepy
summary — pete comes to find you at a party after you call him.
content — tasm!peter parker x fem!afab!reader, drunk!reader, metnions of gross guys sexualizing reader
Peter doesn't have his mask on. He's been swinging about Queens trying to find the party you're at and he hasn't thought about how he's recognisable the entire time.
He thinks about how tired you'd sounded on the phone. How you'd begged him to stay on the phone so you wouldn't fall asleep. Thinking about it more makes him panicky, but he can't help it.
"Tequila makes me sleepy, Parker."
"Yeah? Where are you, honey?"
"Some party. Stay on the phone? Don't wanna fall asleep."
Eventually, he finds the party. In the back of his dizzy mind, he remembers you mentioning it on Tuesday when you were over at his apartment. He remembers how excited you were about it and how upset you were because he wasn't coming.
He lands in the alley beside the building and wastes no time in pushing through the front door. He stands in the front entranceway and starts to get frustrated. Most of the time, he hates his enhanced senses. Even more so right now because he can't hear you.
He blames it on the crowd. There are way too many people here for him to be focusing on just one. But it's you. He knows more about you than he does himself and he can't fucking hear you. He hopes that he's too overwhelmed. The reason why he can't hear you. Not because you've left and you're somewhere, drunk and unsafe, where he can't find you.
"Hey," he grabs the arm of some drunk guy, "where's the bedroom?"
Pointing down to the left with a wobbly arm, "Down that hall," he slurs.
Peter doesn't say thank you. He drops his arm and heads In that direction. Avoiding PDA and more rowdy drunk guys.
The relief he feels when he pushes open the door only lasts a few moments. He finds you, on your stomach with your face smooshed against your arm, asleep. Your sparkly dress rides up your legs to reveal enough bare skin to make Peter feel uncomfortable. He's grateful he's here right now.
The mattress dips down where he sits down by your head, and can't help himself from pushing your messy hair from your face.
Your lips parted, you wrinkle up your face when you start to rouse. Peter is selfish with his hands, squeezing at the fat of your shoulder, running a knuckle down your soft cheek. Slowly, you come to, blinking away your fatigue. Peter, and he's super sorry for it, thinks you're adorable.
"Hello," he says softly. He doesn't know why, but he feels guilty for waking you.
"Peter," you say, lips sticking together with blotchy gloss, "Pete, hey." This time when you say it, it's just understandable. He appreciates the fond hum to your words nonetheless.
"Hey," he says and pushes his thumb into your cheek. You groan because he's a nuisance but he doesn't care because you're okay.
You sit up on your elbows and he can tell you're trying not to wobble. He wants to stable you but doesn't know how to in your position. You seem as dizzy as he'd expect because you always are when drunk. You have the scars on your knees to prove it.
"What are you doing here?" you mumble, scratching at your face with a flippancy he hates.
He catches your hand and rubs your face for you. Gently, because he's not mean, he smooths the back of his hand down your cheek and pushes his fingers over your eyebrow and into your hair.
"Just wanted to make sure you were okay," he tells you. "You sounded bad on the phone, honey."
"Shit, I'm," you hiccup and he panics for a moment. "Shit I'm sorry, Pete, I didn't mean to scare you."
"It's okay," he says honestly. You did scare him but it's okay now because it was reasonable. And you're okay.
You sit up and swing your legs over the edge of the bed and he stables you with a hand on the bottom of your back. Pulling your dress down your legs, he frowns when you shiver.
"You cold?" he worries.
Nodding, you clearly regret it with a groan. "A little. This dress is horrible."
"You think?"
"Yeah, it's itchy and-" you're hiccuping some more and he hopes you don't make yourself sick, "it's too small. The guys here- they, they're gross."
Peter goes rigid. "They didn't do anything did they?"
You shake your head and there's a timidness to you that Pete wants to capture and keep forever. You, an image, rumpled clothes and droopy eyes. Despite how worried he'd been only ten minutes ago, he thinks you're amazing. It's terrifying, honestly.
"No, they just look at me..." you trail off and look at the wall over Peter's shoulder quickly, "They look at me like I'm a piece of meat."
Peter doesn't know what to say. He feels queasy.
"Well, they don't look at me like you are right now."
"Like what?" he lets his tongue catch up to his head.
"I don't know." You shrug and look at your lap.
Peter can't help himself. "I hope they don't look at you like I do. Like you're the prettiest girl in the room. If they do, they need to find someone else."
You let your head fall against his shoulder. "Pete..."
"It's true."
"They don't." He can hear your smile.
"They don't?" Peter now sounds half-offended. "Who else are they looking at like that? You're the prettiest girl in the room."
You have the decency in you to scoff. "You're unbelievable."
"I know," he says when you yawn. "I know. C'mon let's get you home."
3K notes · View notes
trash-king18 · 8 months
Text
miguelxpregnant!reader drabble
————
im so sorry but i can just imagine miguel laying his head on his wife’s stomach as he often does to get her to play with his hair because he’s a big baby and after laying down for a second he shoots up looking like he can’t believe something just happened
“ay miguel wtf”
he just shushes you and puts his head back to your stomach and when he looks up at you he has the biggest smile you’ve ever seen on his face
“oh my god what is wrong with you”
“mi vida… you’re pregnant”
“..what? no baby im not”
he looks like it’s christmas morning “yes cariño you are”
“how do you know” you’re assuming he was gonna say that he had a feeling
“i can hear it” you look at him like he’s gone insane
“hear what?”
“a heartbeat”
“uh yeah.. mine?”
he rolls his eyes “no.” his hands come to the sides of your waist and he just stares in wonder at your belly
“there’s another one. it’s small but it’s there”
“migs..” you place a hand on his face, you feel bad
“i know you want it to be true but i think i would know if i was over a month pregnant” (heartbeats develop around 35 days)
he just brings your hand down gently still smiling like a madman but then he looks at you very seriously “baby when was your last period”
you think about it for a second. you’ve been literally so wrapped up in work you hadn’t even noticed. your hand comes up to your mouth
“oh my god.”
he’s practically beaming at you but you.. just feel nauseous. “holy shit”
you spring up and run to the bathroom and lock yourself in. you hadn’t told him but you’d stashed a couple tests under the sink. you pulled every single one out and used all three.
he’s outside the bathroom door knocking repeatedly begging you to come out or let him in but you just sit on the floor too scared to look.
“bebe please come out”
“no”
“mi amor i will break this door down”
“don’t you dare”
you heard him sigh and slide down the wall to sit on the floor outside the door.
you wanted this. eventually. you were sure of it but you had expected it to be planned, you weren’t even off the pill yet.
your hands were trembling as you finally picked the test up and flipped the first one over.
and then the second
and then the third.
you sat on the floor a while longer to process. a few minutes later you finally open the door and his head turns to you, face full of concern. you put your hand on his shoulder so he doesn’t get up. you take a shaky breath and hand him the test
he takes it from your hand gently. his eyes widen as he reads it. he looks back up at you. your eyes are puffy you’d clearly been crying but before he can say something like “we have other options” “we don’t have to do this yet if you’re not ready” (which is exactly what he was about to say)
you look at him dead serious and threaten “if you baby me or smother me or try to keep me from working i will make you wish you were never born” but he isn’t even listening he just throws the test aside and pulls you down into his arms. you feel his shoulders shudder slightly
“miggy are you crying?”
he sniffles and looks down as you tip his face up with your hands
“aww mi cielo why are you crying”
“i just never thought i’d get another chance”
you wipe the tears from his face with your thumbs gently.
“well i guess we’re gonna have six kids now”
“six?”
“yeah”
he rolls his eyes even as another tear sneaks it’s way down his cheek “the spider teens are not our children”
“really? because we’ve essentially adopted all five of em”
“speak for yourself”
“oh come on migs i know you love em, even hobie”
“no.”
“mmmhm. i think i’m gonna ask him to be the godfather oo or maybe peter b”
his voice is firm but his face is soft and his eyes are still staring at you like you’re a real life angel he shakes his head gently “you will do no such thing cariño”
“don’t tell me you were planning on asking lego spider man”
“i-“
“god the attachment you have to that piece of plastic is concerning”
“don’t disrespect him like that”
————
the ending was not planned but it made me giggle and i hope you enjoyed
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dolokhoded · 3 months
Text
simon peter is the funniest apostle to work with because in theory he's the most loyal, most by-the-book of the apostles so you'd expect him to be the most logical and collected one but 80% of his concerns (pre crucifixion then everything went downhill and they all died) are that he has a crush on every person he encounters
#🧅#im not religious just insane.jpg#true poly disaster. funniest shit ever.#cause yknow simon p's a fisherman he's married he's a very poster family man#and he loves his wife he really does. im not gonna make the only guy who's married fucking Hate his wife and want to like. go have gay sex#instead cause mlm good mlw bad. but he does have his. Issues. concerning how he views women#he's gonna work on that though i'm not leaving him like that don't worry. peter already knew the torah by heart probably for peter turning#to god meant learning how to respect women. and yknow people he considered 'ungodly' in general. to respect humanity as he respects god.#tee hee i love this arc. i love all of them but i dont ever rlly talk abt this one.#but anyways yes he does love his wife.#then some strange guy shows up while he's fishing and he's like follow me son of jonah i will make you a Fisher Of Men. and peter's like#TEE HEE OKAY JESUS i will come fish men with you.#which......okay....simon....... interesting that u wanted to do that..... with zero context....#and then cue weird thing with magdalene. which. they don't end up together by Any Means.#they hate each other. they have not spoken in a civil manner once. but they do have a weird bond between them than only aromantic people#can understand.#WHICH BTW i already knew there's a thin line between polyamory and aromanticism. but it really showed when while trying to#explore how peter experiences polyromanticism i found myself projecting a lot of my own aromanticism on him#(is polyromantic a correct term? i'm not sure these terms really confuse me especially considering the time period cause like. polyamorous#describes a relationship with multiple people which peter obviously wasn't in in 30 AD. but he Did have romantic feelings for multiple#people so is that polyromanticism? or is that a completely different term? idk. bare with me.)#very interesting. anyways yeah there's that. magdalene is aro also to me. so yeah this is one of the most fun dymanics i have in this lore#cause like. polyromantic person and aromantic person somehow having the same mutual not platonic not romantic but a secret third thing#connection with each other. i love thinking about them
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theplumsoldier · 8 months
Text
loverboy
summary: carmen makes a move on you while you think he's still got a girlfriend. could've gone smoother but you end up inviting him
pairing: carmy berzatto x afab!reader
word count: 4,2k
warnings: insecurities, self-doubt, small lies (carm makes you believe he lives closer to you than he does), vulgar language, mention of "setting boundaries" of a not-yet-existing-fwb-relationship, 18+ MDNI; smut, unprotected sex, semi-public grinding, oral (f&m receiving) soft!carm, idiots in love, friends to lovers!!
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"You know, I don't think I've said this." He hadn't. "But I'm-I'm really—we're all really glad to have you here."
He was nodding to himself as he said it, and he hoped you didn't notice the hesitation. Carmy wasn't for a second doubtful that they were happy—he was certainly happy that you had joined the crew during the hectic weeks prior to The Bear's opening.
It was just that now, here, sitting alone with you in the back alley of the restaurant, sharing one of the bottles of expensive-as-shit Coup Beaujolais, he was getting unsure of himself. On whether he had completely misread your banter. He wasn't very good with that, flirting—never knew when someone was hitting on him and always double-checking whether he himself was, in fact, hitting on someone. Richie had said the chemistry between you guys was more dangerous than Fak recalibrating. Fucking stupid, he thought, but it made him think.
And then Carmy realized he had been flirting with you, in his own stupid fucking way which he worried you hadn't picked up on. Shit, he hadn't noticed it before Richie told him. Now that he sat there, with you, alone, he wondered if Richie had been fucking with him again.
Carmy wanted to know how you felt about him, but he didn't want to fuck up as was his specialty lately—didn't wanna make you uncomfortable, didn't wanna make anything weird.
"Yeah, uh. Thanks, chef," said you, chewing at your bottom lip to ease the tension. Carmy had a real habit of making situations awkward. "I'm glad you'll have me."
Phrasing.
Carm nodded, the persistent way he does whenever he's turning words in his head. You could almost hear the gears scraping.
"You always seem so cool—about everything. Like, even though we're jumpin' off the fuckin' walls, screaming n'shit, you'll just—you're collected. S'a real good quality, you know?"
You grinned, thinking of those exact memories, some just a couple of hours old. "Yeah, well—I'm sure it's more hectic n'the kitchen, right? Like there's, open fire, sharp knives and shit. Gotta be jumpin', like, all the time, yeah? To avoid the obstacles n'stuff."
"Yeah," he chuckled. "Peter Parker-type shit."
"Yeah."
You held the plastic cup out and he poured you another one.
"Anyway, keeps me sane, you know? I think—I think at some point you made me realize that—that, you know, it's not normal to fuckin' scream all day. Like I didn't even realize I got fuckin' migraines 'til it was quiet, you feel me?"
It made you bubbly, to hear that Carmen did in fact appreciate having you be a part of the team.
You just sat there, quietly watching him. His bicep popped when he poured a slob into his own cup. You watched as his tongue darted out to wet his lips before taking a sip.
You sat like that, speaking mindlessly for a while, sharing experiences and goofing around. You loved this, getting to know him better, but when you suddenly found that he had sought closer to you, you felt your heart leap.
His body was so close you could feel the heat of his body radiate. It was intoxicating, more than the wine and though your subconscious reminded you it was wrong to lean into his welcoming touch, you couldn't help but forget what was right and wrong.
His crystal blue eyes caught the light from the street lamp, and you were mesmerized as he looked into your soul. You felt vulnerable but safe in his company.
Though there had been much lead-up, it seemed to come out of the blue. Carmy leaned in, and his eyes were fixated on your lips. Before your lips touched, your senses returned and you moved back against the fence.
"Yo, what the fuck are you doing?"
Fuck.
"Wait—I'm sorry! I'm sorry."
"You have a girlfriend!"
Oh.
"Wha—no, no—shit, that's not—" he stumbled back, running a hand over his dazed face, dragging the expression down with it.
Fuck—fuck! Carmen thought he must look like a fucking jagoff.
He stood with his back to you, but you could see the way his broad shoulders heaved with every.
You pushed, not appreciating the silence. "Yeah, no—her name is Claire. You've been dating her a couple months now and known her, for like, forever. That ring any bells?"
When Carmen turned around to face you, he looked defeated. He then crouched down beside you again.
"We broke up."
What?
Carmen told you how he had had an existential crisis during opening night, how he had thought he vented to Tina while stuck in the walk-in, and Claire had heard everything he had said. You could sense the sadness in his voice, but there was no regret. It spread a warm feeling in your chest, and you immediately felt a pang of guilt. When you had first met Carm, he had been with Claire and so the immediate attraction you had felt—well, you had obviously tried to suppress that.
"—I guess I just... I realized I can't both manage a—a restaurant and a relationship. I—I don't know, it don't come natural to me."
Your brows were furrowed, mixed feeling prickling at your skin. "So... why'd you try to kiss me just now?"
Again, he looked despondent.
"I—fuck, I don't know, I've—I guess I've just been feeling this for a while now, with—with you and I dunno. Richie's been getting in my head and I had a stupid thought and figured fuck it, you know?"
It wasn't a question but he was looking for an answer on your expression. Carmen feared you had stopped him from kissing you, not because you thought he had a girlfriend, but because you didn't want to kiss him.
Carmy watched as you looked thoughtfully at the ground, his hands fidgeting as you did the same.
Fuck.
It's over, he thought to himself.
Battling the voices in your head telling you not to, you said: "You know, it's not that the thought of kissing you, like, disgusts me."
His head tilted upward, hope in his sorry eyes.
"No?" he quizzed sheepishly.
"No," you chuckled. "I mean, I've thought about it before."
Carm lit up. "Ye—yeah?"
"Yeah," nodded you, wetting your lips as you recalled your fantasies. "It'd probably be stupid though, right?"
"So stupid," he agreed, nodding vigorously as if trying to shake the thought. It would be fucking stupid. He knew it. But it didn't deter him. Carm wanted to take the chance. He shouldn't, after all, he broke it off with Claire because he "wasn't ready". Why would he be ready now? "Still want to, though."
So badly. It felt more like an urge; a need rather than a want.
"So do it," you finally tested.
If you didn't, you were sure you'd back out, run into the kitchen with your tail between your legs. But you would regret that, you knew it. You tried to convince yourself you shouldn't back away. You wanted this—had for a while. Carm was the one who should second-guess himself, not you. He had ended a relationship because he couldn't dedicate himself and now he wanted to give it another shot. With you. It made you desperate, knowing he wanted you like you wanted him. Still, you worried he would kiss you and regret it immediately, confirmed in his suspicions—he didn't have time for romance. Keep your eye on the price.
"Fuck it," breathed he, putting aside an internal battle and leaned closer, knocking aside the bottle of wine as he pressed his hungry lips to you.
Your lips felt plump against his, chewed with anticipation and soft with spit. You tasted like a perfect dessert.
Lost in the growing heat, you cradled his face, swiping your warm tongue over his needy lips and Carmen did not hesitate to grant you entrance. A desperate although soft whine escaped him and you swallowed it down, living for the way he desired you.
Without interrupting the dance your tongues twirled, Carmen's large palm grasped your hip and pulled you into his lap. Automatically you ground down on him and moaned at the sensation of what you did to him.
You'd thought about how he would feel against you. From behind the bar, you always had a perfect view of his station and often got distracted by the way he moved—the way his mouth curled when he would scream commands, the way his arms would flex as he worked. It was a surprise nobody had filed a complaint against you. On more than one occasion you had mixed the wrong drink or spilled liquor because you just couldn't keep your eyes off of him. It was unprofessional, but he was mesmerizing like a starry sky; the longer you looked, the deeper you fell into the abyss.
Carmen mumbled a curse under his breath as he broke the kiss, breathing heavily as he ground up into your clothes sex.
"Do—doesn't feel so stupid, huh?"
You grinned and shook your head lightly, pressing your forehead against his.
"If we're gonna fuck we should probably talk about it," you said blatantly. "Set some ground rules."
Carmen was caught off guard for a second. He knew what he wanted but when you said it so casually it made something twitch in him.
His eyes were attached to your lips. They looked so delicious, kissed rough and he pulled at your bottom lip with his thumb before he even registered it.
"Probably," he breathed even though he wasn't quite sure what your words actually meant. He was quite literally thinking with his cock.
Carmen clashed his insatiable lips to yours again, but the second he did so, the back door to The Bear clicked open and Marcus appeared, garbage bags in hand. By the time you looked up at him, you had clumsily shuffled off of Carmen, sitting awkwardly with your legs to your chest. You weren't sure what he'd seen nor what he made of it.
"Hey," he hummed, moving to sling the plastic bags into the container.
"Sup, bro," acknowledged Carm, putting his hands on his hips, suddenly standing up, playing it cool.
"Imma call it a night," Marcus said. "See y'all tomorrow."
"Yeah, uh—good job t'day."
Marcus disappeared and Carmen looked back down at you, holding out a hand to help you to your feet. The interruption had broken the spell.
"Can I walk you home?" he offered. It made more sense to him, taking you home. He wasn't about to violate health code on the kitchen floor of his own restaurant.
"You live close to Maygrey?"
No.
"Yeah."
The walk might do him some good, he figured. Perhaps the chivalrous gesture would help him get lucky tonight, and even if you decided you were not about to fool around with him, he could at least say he had done a good deed today.
Carm hadn't realized you made a twenty-minute walk every night, and although he often did the same, it bothered him a great deal. He hadn't had any uncomfortable encounters himself, but he knew Sugar had. One time when she had been late to dinner at his place because of some creep bothering her on the street, and he had asked her why she hadn't called him (he would have picked her up), she told him it was not a first nor was it a last. It angered him, knowing it was not unusual for a woman to feel afraid when walking alone.
Carmen recalled your mention of ground rules, but you didn't once embark on the topic. Instead of talking about sex, you joked as if you were friends and nothing more. It made him wonder if you regretted kissing him.
Of course you invited him up. How could you not?
Carm looked dubious suddenly and you raised a brow, giving him a soft smile.
"I won't be mad if you turn me down now. No hard feelings."
He realized you were just a pair of self-doubting idiots—none of you wanting to pressure the other into something you might regret. And Carmen knew he might just do that—not because he was unsure whether he wanted this with you (he hadn't wanted something this much in a long time), no—he feared he would find himself in the same emotional clusterfuck he had with Claire.
Something about you made him want to throw caution to the wind and become the loverboy he so pathetically wanted to be for you.
How could he ever turn you down? A simple kiss in a back alley had dragged him in too deep.
You stood atop the staircase and watched curiously as Carmen closed the space. His hand cradled your face and he planted a soft kiss on your lips, not as vigorous a kiss as earlier that night, but just as hungry, just as passionate.
He then gave you a reassuring look and you knew you had it bad cause you could've sworn you fell in love with him just then.
Grabbing his hand you dragged him along with you, eagerly pulling him up the steps to your apartment, not wasting a goddamn second in connecting your lips again.
Carm chuckled against your lips as you pushed him into the door, closing it with him as if locking you away from the outside world. It was just the two of you.
Carmen was too far away to realize you had undone his belt until the familiar clinking sounded. He was so fucking hard by now, aroused by your eagerness. It was almost mortifying.
He composed himself. "Where's the bedroom?"
You gave him a look. "It's a one-room apartment, Carm."
For the first time, he looked around and got the message. The kitchen was awkwardly lodged into a small corner of the living room and the living room was also the bedroom. There was a door three feet ahead but he was unsure whether it was a closet or a bathroom.
"So when I fuck you on the couch I'll also be fucking you in the dining room?"
You looped your arms around his front from behind, pointing to the corner of the room. "Yeah, n'the trashcan over there's the bathroom."
He spun around, placing his large hands on your hips to keep you close. "Cozy."
There was a glimmering to his eyes, and his contagious charm infected you with an enticing smirk. You leaned in, cradling your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent.
"So you gonna fuck me Carmy? Or are ya just all talk?" teased you, planting wet kisses against his throat, sucking the place below his ear. That's the spot.
In a flash, he hooked your legs around his waist and you would've been embarrassed by the stupid fucking giggle escaping you if a low moan hadn't interrupted you. His restrained cock felt even bigger now, pressing up into your clothed crotch.
You could hardly wait to see his weeping head.
Carmen straddled you on the couch, breaking your lips apart to shift his focus. Peppering kisses down your neck, your chest heaved with a shaky breath, whining for him. You wondered if he would flip you over and fuck you roughly if you asked nicely.
Another time you told yourself. Tonight, you were too ecstatic as he worshipped your body like the prettiest fucking tenderloin he'd ever seen. The thought made you smile into your arm, gasping as his hot breath swept over your belly.
"So fuckin' beautiful," he murmured against your skin, tongue poking out to taste the flesh.
Writhing beneath him, you tugged at his curls, and he swore he was about to bust right there, with your glossy and dazed eyes blinking down at him. Fuck, Carm wanted to hear you beg for him.
"What is it, baby girl?" he taunted, looking curiously at you while he peppered kisses across the skin he exposed by lifting up your shirt.
When you ground up your hips to show him where you wanted him, he kept you pressed against the cushion. You cried out.
"Carmy!" you mewled, helplessly thrashing.
After removing your shirt, he praised your patience: "you're so good for me," he said and unbuttoned your jeans. "Tell me what you want, sweet girl."
You threw your head back into a pillow with a thud, wanting to both strangle and fuck him (which you had wanted many times already since you started bartending at The Bear) as he pressed teasing, open-mouthed kisses by the seams of your panty line.
"Just—mpff! Fuck me already, Carm," you whined.
His face tilted up and you wanted to slap the smirk right off of his sly face. "In a minute, baby."
As he moved back a little, you thought he was finally going to give you what you wanted, but when you arched your back with need he used your movements to flip you onto your stomach. He roughly placed you as he pleased, propping you on your knees, and slid in under you.
"Just a quick taste, baby," he drawled.
Realizing he was gonna eat you out, you melted completely, seated perfectly on his face as was his wish. You barely managed to get comfortable before he hooked a finger through the leg of your underwear, the cold of his ring making you shiver and he dug in like a man starved.
A sound bordering on a thirsty moan and a dry cry escaped you. Carmen looped his arms around your thighs. His tongue explored the nooks of your lips, lapping slick from your folds and into your pussy.
A string of curses left your lips as he relished your juices, groaning into your cunt. He couldn't help but relieve some of the pressure on his impossibly hard cock by palming himself through his jeans.
He had lost himself for a moment there and when he looked up, he became doe-eyed with adoration. You had removed your bra.
His hand left his cock and slid up your curves, palming your breast instead and the other went to deftly work your clit. He elicited a muffled shriek from you, obviously surprised by the sudden added sensation to the delicate bud.
"Carmy," you panted, grinding your hips against his mouth, all of it seeming both too much and not enough. He was going to ruin you and you would let him. "Fu—fuck! M'gonna come, Carm."
Your confession merely made him more eager, more hungry and he concentrated on bringing you closer, encouraging each wave of your hips with a low moan. Carmen let you fuck his face, rolling and grinding on him to persuade your release closer. You grabbed at his curls to steady yourself as it came in euphoric waves, moaning, crying, whimpering, and grinning as he lapped your cum, savoring every last drop. It quickly became too much though, and as his nose tickled your sensitive clit, you fell apart, tilting over and crashing above him.
"Ho—holy fuck," you panted and he stood up from the couch, ridding himself of his clothes until there was nothing but a gold chain gleaming at his chest.
Still recovering from your orgasm, you gaped at his size. The head was red and strained, pre-cum beading the slit making it look like it was crying. The shaft was long with protruding veins drawing purple along the length and he was thick, too thick to fit in the circle created when you connect the tip of your index with that of your thumb.
He was perfect.
Carmen looked a bit flustered from your shameless gawking but you couldn't help it. "You're beautiful, Carm."
He grinned sheepishly down at you, grasping your legs, pulling you to the edge of the couch, resting your calves on his shoulders.
"You are," he insisted, pressing his lips to yours in a feverishly soft kiss as he aligned his head with your folds.
Gasping, you took a second to relax around his head, knowing it would sting painfully if you didn't. You wouldn't let anything ruin this moment. Not with his eyes gazing so intensely down at you; not with saliva connecting your mouths with a string, not with him before you like this, looking like he was carved by fucking Donatello, nothing hiding an inch of his tantalizingly soft skin bar the gold chain dangling from his neck.
You instinctively edged closer, putting a hand on his shoulder to guide him into you. He eased into you as he kissed you hungrily—insatiable, always needing more of your taste.
Carm held his breath as he bottomed out, finally exhaling a shaky breath. He couldn't believe how good you felt around him, hugging—no squeezing the life out of his cock as you desperately clawed on his back, feeling every cleft and hill, moaning into his mouth. He hoped your nails would leave marks on his skin.
With your forehead pressed against his, you looked down with hooded eyes and watch as he slid in, devastatingly slow, inch by inch. Carm followed your gaze.
"God, look how good you're takin' me, baby. Doin' so well f'me—doin' so good," he groaned, head digging into your neck, licking, sucking, biting.
He commenced a thrusting-grinding pace, reaching every crevice inside you, tickling all the right places. You cried out, a mixture of pain and pleasure so delicious as he poked and prodded places untouched. He felt unreal.
Soon Carmen drilled into you like a madman, steadying himself against your hips, rutting into you at a bruising pace. You'd feel him long after he was gone.
You held him close by his neck, securing him by threading your fingers through that damn sexy gold chain and the locks of his hair. His brows were furrowed, concentration and bliss evident in his expression.
You begged him to go faster, harder—before you knew it he granted your wish and his hand had returned to your poor clit, and you grasped whatever you could, the armrest, cushions, him.
You chanted his name, exchanging your vocabulary for his name so that he was all you knew. Carm fucked you through your orgasm, chasing his own as you cried his name. The combination of your moans, your begging, and the vulgar sounds of your skin slapping—it made him fucking delirious.
His bicep flexed delectably as he put all his weight on his right arm, making a considerate pause for a sweet but overwhelmingly intense kiss, only to thrust impossibly deeper.
Feeling his consistent pace become erratic, you begged him. "Please, please, Carm—fill me up."
You could feel your frantic pleas going straight to his cock as he twitched inside you, groaning—but fuck it sounded like a frail whimper.
The furrow between his brows deepened, a red blush painting his face and chest.
"You're fuckin' unreal," he manages, shaking his head.
Carmy's pace became sloppier and more desperate, cursing into your mouth as he stuttered, a strangled moan signaling his high.
He filled you up, squirting white ropes of velvety cum into you. You felt his seed trickle out as if there was not enough room for his generous load. Then he collapsed beside you.
You lay still for a minute or so, chests heaving in unison as you came back down to Earth.
"Fuck," he said after some time, pronouncing the cuss as if he had just learned the word.
You chuckled, agreeing. "Yeah."
"Shit, lemme get ya somethin' for the—"
"No, no—don't worry," you stopped him, already getting up before he could do much. He watched you go, admiring your naked body. You reached between your legs, feeling his cum trickle down your thighs. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck."
Carmy laughed when he realized what was going on, a sort of childish grin he couldn't hold back from rumbling in his chest. He hadn't felt this comfortable in a long time.
You disappeared out of sight. He heard water running splash and he figured you were cleaning yourself. Carmen wondered if he would get to fill you up again—preferably sometime soon.
You returned with a damp washcloth, your feet padding softly against the floor as you approached him. Carm couldn't help but smile endearingly as he went to move to free up space for you, but you placed a soft hand on his thigh as if telling him to lie still instead.
"Oh—" he began when he noticed the washcloth, but to his surprise you wrapped your lips around his cock, earning a strangled moan from him. Your warm tongue licked him clean and you hollowed your cheeks around him as if vacuuming his mess.
The pleasure turned into a ticklish feeling and he felt like grinning and kicking his feet suddenly. You looked up through your lashes, and he felt as if his eyes had remolded into heart shapes.
He brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, looking at you with such tooth-rotting affection it made him wonder if he loved you. In this situation, it felt natural to say to you—it felt easy and welcome, right on the tip of his tongue.
You offered him an enchanting smile and took his large hand to your mouth, kissing his knuckles, then began cleaning his cock with the washcloth.
Carmen's head dropped back at your touch and he exhaled deeply.
A smile danced across his face and he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand; the one you had kissed.
What am I going to do with you?
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gh0stsp1d3r · 10 months
Note
Could you do a part two for whipped but like it is after the baby is born and we see Miguel hold a meeting but he has to take care of his kids cause mama is having her self care day and like he has the baby strapped on to him as their daughter climbs and runs around. And what if the baby is like a mini miguel and does similar faces or interrupts him with their own babbling!
AWWW. Part 1-
Whipped pt 2
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“Uh, yeah, yeah, it’s fine, but I really have gotta start a meeting today-“ he said, when you asked him to watch both the baby and your daughter.
“Just take them with. Or get someone else to watch them.” You said, as you put on your shoes.
“Alright. Yeah. I got it. I’ll see you later. Have fun.” He said, not wanting to make you upset. You deserved a day off, especially from the baby. Your 6 month old baby had been annoying you, a lot. He could tell, no matter how much you tried to put on a front.
“I love you.” You kissed him, your daughter said ew to the both of you, you laughed and walked out the door.
“Alright, guys. C’mon.” He said, holding the baby as he looked back at your daughter.
He opened up a portal, your daughter going first, and then Miguel and the baby.
“Wow! They’re so grown up.” Lyla said, appearing out of no where and looking at them.
“Yeah, yeah, is everyone in the meeting room?”
“Everyone but Hobie.”
“Of course.” Miguel mumbled.
“I wanted to go over everyone’s performance.” He stated, still holding the baby. Your guy’s daughter was looking around and running around the large room.
“Ignore my children…” he said, embarrassed slightly.
“Anyways, mostly all of you have been doing great. Except for Hobie.. who’s never at these meeting. We have some new recruits, and I hope that you’ll all accept th-“
The baby started to babble, and someone snickered. Then he made a face that looked too similar to Miguel. Three people laughed at that.
“Anyways, as I was saying-“
“Bah-bah. Bah-bah.” He started to flail around in his arms.
“Okay, okay. Can you hold your brother for a second?” He looked at your daughter.
“Sure…” she said, and held him while they spoke nonsense to each other.
He talked for a while, and then finally
“Finally, if I see one more person miss a meeting, unless your dead or dying, you’re off the damn team. And quit eating on missions! You can do that after, can you not?”
They all nodded and packed up their stuff, leaving.
“Fucking Hobie.” He mumbled, when he saw both his daughters leave to go to the man.
“Uncle Hobie!” Your daughter said, going up to him.
“Hey!! There’s my favorite people. You both are so big now!” He looked at the baby in her arms.
“I know! Mama says that soon enough-“ she went on and on. Hobie laughing and smiling as she talked.
“Hobie.” Miguel said.
Hobie looked at him as he picked up his baby from his daughters arms.
“If you miss another meeting, you’re out.” Miguel said.
“Fine by me.” He shrugged, and continued to play with the baby, who really liked him.
“Alright, I’ll see you both later.” Hobie said, when Miguel grew impatient.
“C’mon.” Miguel said, baby in his hands as your daughter followed.
—————————————————————
��How was work? Were they good?” You asked when you both finally got to lay down.
“It was.. alright. They were fine.” He said, looking at you as you changed.
“That’s good.” You smiled.
“Yeah, yeah.”
“Well, maybe you could take them next time too.” You joked.
He laughed “If it means that you’re not mad every time I come home, gladly.”
“I’m not mad when you come home!”
“Yea you are.”
You feigned offense. “Oh shut up.” You hit his chest.
He laughed again. Then he realized. ‘Oh shit. Peter was right. I am whipped.’
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togrowoldinv · 9 months
Text
Best Closers In The City
Lawyer!Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader
You are an associate to some of the most successful attorneys in the city. You’re invited to a special dinner with the partners. What happens when one of them asks you to be her mentee?
Warnings: Smut! 18+ please! Kissing, cursing, very muscular Natasha, degrading, overstimulation (sorta), strap on sex, oral (N receiving)
Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 1, Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 2, Main Masterlist
When you got the job at Romanoff Danvers & Maximoff, you had no idea what to expect. Everyone said it would mean working over 40 hours a week without much praise, but you didn’t care.
You wanted to work for the best law firm in New York City.
You met Danvers, Carol, first. She is alluring, no doubt about that, but she is also brilliant. The woman has a reputation for cleaning up messes quickly and keeping the city safe.
You met Wanda Maximoff second. She oversees the associates, so you see a lot of her. She has the kindest smile you’ve ever seen. Despite being one tough litigator, she is genuinely kind and always asks you how you are doing. Not in a way to make small talk, but like she truly wants to know.
And that leaves Natasha Romanoff. You have seen her around the office, usually early in the morning or late at night, but you haven’t spoken to the woman. There is a sense around the firm that you don’t speak to Natasha unless you’ve made partner or she speaks to you first.
But you really want to talk to her. She is the managing partner, something you long to be one day. Plus, she is gorgeous. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about her in a slightly less than appropriate capacity.
Sometimes she would leave the office with a man or woman waiting for her outside. It was never the same person twice. You wondered what it was like to be them.
When you get to work today, Wanda waltzes into the bullpen with a notepad in hand. She prefers not to use technology.
“Good morning! As you all know, tonight is the annual partner dinner. Carol, Natasha, and I have been observing you all for a while now, so we would like to formally offer the following list of you an invite to the dinner,” Wanda announces.
She is met with chatters of excitement from all of you young, aspiring attorneys. None of you knew when this day was going to come, but here it is. Your chance for a seat at the table.
“I know, I know, it’s very exciting,” Wanda says, a chuckle escaping her lips. “Now here are the associates that will be joining us. Peter Parker, Kate Bishop, and Y/n y/ln.”
You fight the urge to stand up and do a happy dance. Instead, you share a smile with your fellow invitees and accept congratulations from others.
“See you all at 8!” Wanda says. She leaves the bullpen.
“I wonder which one of them picked which of us,” Peter says once the woman is out of sight.
“What do you mean?” You ask.
“Each partner picks an associate. At least that’s what Mr. Stark told me,” he explains.
“Oh, I hope Natasha picked me,” Kate comments. You all laugh.
“Natasha doesn’t speak to any of us, and Carol doesn’t either for that matter. I bet Wanda picked all of us,” you reason.
“Just wait and see where we are placed to sit tonight,” Peter says. “I bet I’m right.”
You forget about the dinner mostly as you dive into your work for the day. But what Peter said does linger in your mind as you gather your bag before walking to the car that is taking you all to dinner.
You figured dinner would be at some restaurant, but the car arrives at a house. A huge one with glorious architecture. There are lions on either side of the entrance. A dark wooden door is up the stairs.
“Holy shit,” Kate speaks for the group as you walk to the door together.
Peter rings the doorbell and the door opens almost simultaneously. Carol is on the other side, a glass of wine in her hand.
“Hello! Come on in,” Carol greets the three of you.
“This is a very nice home you have here, ma’am,” you say.
“Oh, I wish I could take credit for this place. It’s Natasha’s,” Carol explains. “Follow me and we’ll go into the dining room.”
You follow the blonde. Your eyes wander around the house as you admire how perfectly put together the house is. There are very few personal decorations, but there are so many objects that you can imagine have meaning to Natasha.
When you enter the dining room, there are place cards at the table. One for each of you. You sit in your assigned seats and Carol scurries off to the other room to gather her fellow partners.
They file in one by one. Carol sits across from Kate, offering her a smile. Wanda sits across from Peter. And that leaves the seat across from you open. If Peter was right, then that means Natasha chose you.
She is last one to walk in. She sits in the chair across from you and looks up at you through her eyelashes. The woman is even more beautiful up close. Her red hair cascades over her suit lapels and her green eyes shine in the dining room lights. You wonder what that jacket is hiding.
You are admiring her when Wanda begins speaking, “Thank you all for joining us tonight for this very special dinner. And thank you to Natasha for graciously letting us have the dinner at her beautiful home.”
Natasha offers Wanda a nod and a soft smile. One of which Wanda happily returns.
“It’s truly a unique and sought after experience, so I do hope the three of you leave tonight with more knowledge about your chosen career. We picked you from the fine cloth of other associates,” Carol explains.
She looks to Natasha to continue the spiel. You all watch her intently and wait for her to begin.
“Yes, as Carol and Wanda said we invited you three here for a reason,” Natasha says. Her voice is velvety just as you hoped it would be. “It should also be noted that while we all are going to speak to each other tonight, there is also another element to the dinner.”
Subtle glances are shared between you, Kate, and Peter.
“We have decided to improve the tradition and give you each full access to us. You’re sitting from across from the partner that has chosen you to be their mentee, if you so choose to agree,” Natasha explains. She looks you directly in the eye as she says her next words. “And you will agree.”
There is a certain harshness to her tone that you don’t know if it turns you on or scares you deeply. You think it’s both.
Soon, the food is served and the group talks intently. Things about the firm come up, but you find that the women don’t only want to talk business. You see the way Natasha does not offer as much personal information as the others, but she throws in a couple of comments here and there.
After dessert, you are practically itching to ask when you get to learn more about the mentor and mentee relationships. Carol puts you out of your misery when she announces that that part of the night begins now.
“We’ll go to my study,” Natasha says to you. She stands up from the table and leads the way. You can’t help but notice the way her pants hug her backside.
When you enter the room, she closes the door behind you. You take a look around. The walls are lined with bookshelves except for one area where there is a stained-glass window. Pink roses are painted with a landscape of green around them.
Natasha notices you admiring it. “It’s one of a kind,” she says.
“It’s beautiful,” you comment.
“Thank you,” she says. She walks to her desk and gestures for you to sit in the chair on the other side.
You sit, but she remains standing as she takes the suit jacket off. You notice the way the buttons strain against her chest, and her arms are noticeably toned even through the mid length sleeves she is wearing.
“You might want to stop staring,” Natasha says, pulling you out of your trance.
“I’m sorry,” you rush out the apology.
“Mhm,” she hums. You can’t read her, so you don’t know if she was flattered or upset by your stares. Your nerves are at a high. “So, y/n, what are your career goals?”
“I want to- um- well- I want to make partner one day,” you say.
“That sounds reasonable,” Natasha remarks. She stands up from her desk and walks around to your side. Her hands grip the desk and she leans against it. Once again, your eyes rake over the tight-fitting shirt. “Why family law?”
“It seemed like the path where I could do the most good,” you explain.
“And that’s what you want to do? Good?”
“Yes ma’am,” you say. “Why did you-”
“I’m asking the questions, y/n,” she interrupts you, standing at her full height again.
“I’m sorry,” you say.
“You’re too quick to apologize,” Natasha scolds you lightly.
You don’t know how to reply. She walks to her drink cart in the corner and pours herself a shot of what you presume is vodka and she swallows it quickly. You watch her every moment before she turns back around. You avert your gaze.
“Y/n,” Natasha says. She invades your space, her hand gripping your chin to force you to look up at her. “Do you know why I chose you to mentor?”
You try to shake your head, but her grip is too firm.
“No, I don’t,” you speak softly.
Natasha grins wickedly as she keeps her hand on you. Only she moves it to the side of your face, her fingers arching over your neck and touching the base of your hairline.
“I chose you because I think you’re intelligent. And you’re capable and hard-working,” Natasha explains. You feel your cheeks burning from the compliments. “But you’re also naïve, and you’re a bit of a pushover.”
Oh. There it is. Your eyes burn as you fight back tears, cursing yourself for being unable to handle criticism.
“I don’t tell you this to upset you, y/n,” Natasha says, her voice softening just a hair. “I can help you be better. You have the instincts. It’s just that someone needs to toughen you up.”
“Okay,” you say. “How did you- nevermind,” you remember you aren’t the one asking the questions.
“How did I what?” Natasha inclines you to continue.
“How did you even know all of this? You don’t speak to us associates.”
“Oh, I may not speak but I’m always listening,” Natasha says. “And trust me, sweetheart, I see everything.”
You shiver at her words. Everything means that she might have seen you watch her leave all of those nights. You avert your gaze, and her hand grip strengthens again.
“Tell me, y/n, have you been watching me?” She knows the answer, so she doesn’t bother waiting for you to speak. “Since you have been, maybe you would like to see more of me?”
“I- um-” you can’t formulate words.
Natasha releases you from her grasp and steps back so you can see all of her. She starts slow, unbuttoning her shirt. Each button strains and your eyes follow her movements. Her hands are deft as they move against her shirt purposefully.
When she gets to the last button, she looks you directly in the eyes and pulls the shirt away from her body. That uncovers her chest and her arms. Your eyes don’t know what part of her to look at first.
“Don’t just sit there,” Natasha says sternly.
You stand up quickly and she takes your hand. She brings it to her abs. Your other hand follows. You brush your hands over her abs, an undoubtable eight-pack, and she smirks. You move further up to her abdomen to her rib cage area and run your hands over a couple of tattoos.
Natasha didn’t seem like the type to have these, but they make her impossibly hotter. Your hands skip over her bra-covered chest and move to her biceps. The woman flexes her arms, and you feel weak in your knees.
“Do you like what you see?” Natasha asks, her voice is deeper than usual.
“I do,” you say. “Can I?”
She knows what you mean, and she reaches behind her own back to unhook her bra. The garment falls to the floor. You take one breast in your hand as you move your mouth to the other. You look up at Natasha as if asking for permission. She nods and you place your lips around her nipple.
You suck thoughtfully and lick around the perky buds, switching between breasts. Natasha makes beautiful sounds as you do so. When you kiss down her abdomen, she lets out a gasp. You fully intend to worship her entire body.
“Take off my pants, baby,” Natasha instructs you.
Your fingers work to unbutton and unzip her suit pants. Kneeling in front of her, you pull the pants down her legs. For some reason, you expected her to be wearing panties, but she is wearing black boxers. Her thighs are muscular and your urge to be between them increases when you notice the bulge in her boxers.
“Fuck Natasha,” you mumble. She lets out a chuckle.
“Did my good, sweet associate just say fuck?” She teases.
You answer by pressing kisses against the skin of her thighs that are revealed. Nat gets impatient and pushes her own boxers down her legs. All that she’s left wearing is a strap.
Natasha takes it in her own hand and directs it towards your mouth. You comply quickly and suck the cock. She moves her hips faster with every passing second, loving how you take the thick length.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” she says. “God, I’ve wanted to have you kneeling for me since the first day I saw you in the office.”
You groan at her words and continue your ministrations. That is until Natasha needs more, and she pulls you up by your shirt collar.
“Take off your pants,” she tells you. “Now.”
Nat doesn’t wait for them to reach the floor before she has you bent over her desk as she enters you from behind. It’s easy from how wet you are from the entire evening.
“You take my cock so well, baby,” she says, her mouth right next to your ear. “I know you’ve imagined this too.”
“I have,” you admit, your voice broken from the pleasure she is bringing you. She moves in and out of you, hitting you right where you need her every time. Her arms hold you tightly against her.
When Natasha places a few kisses on your neck, you whine, and her grip tightens.
“I’m gonna- fuck Nat- I’m gonna come,” you say.
“Come for me, sweetheart,” Natasha says. “Tell me how good it feels.”
You groan out a string of incoherent words as you come for Natasha. She feels the slick against her strap as she continues to take you from behind.
“Too much, Nat,” you mumble when she still hasn’t stopped her movements.
“Come on, baby, you can take one more,” Natasha says firmly. “You want to be good for me, don’t you?”
“Yes- fuck- yes ma’am,” you reply.
It doesn’t take long for you to come again. This time she relents and pulls out of you. Your head is fuzzy from the overstimulation, but you’ve never felt so good.
Natasha releases you from her grasp and you turn around to face her. She has an almost goofy grin on her face, and you know she is pleased with her work. But you remember she hasn’t come yet.
“May I take care of you?” You ask her, reaching for the strap again.
“I think you’ve earned it. Go ahead,” she says. Nat takes her own initiative to take the strap off of her hips.
You once again kneel in front your mentor, but this time you waste no time burying your face between her legs. You collect her wetness with your tongue and make quick work of finding her clit.
“Fucking good,” Natasha mumbles as you lick and suck. She holds onto your shoulders as you continue. It feels good to make a woman so strong feel weak in her knees.
You hum against her, and she is almost over the edge. All it takes is for you to add one finger to work in tandem with your mouth and she is coming hard against you.
After cleaning her up, you stand up to face her again.
“Come here,” she says, pulling you by your hips into her hold.
She kisses your lips slowly at first. Her tongue brushes against yours. But she picks up the pace and you’re left breathless from your first kiss with the woman.
“So, what did you think?” Natasha asks.
“I think I want to do that again,” you say, dumbstruck from the events.
“In due time, y/n. Right now we need to get dressed and say goodnight to everyone,” Natasha says.
She turns to look for her shirt and it’s then that you notice the tattoos on her back.
“Roses,” you say aloud. Your eyes glance back towards the window.
“Roses,” Natasha turns back to you and says. “You wanted to ask why I chose family law.” She puts the shirt back over her arms and back.
“I did.”
“My sister,” Natasha says. “We were separated as kids. I am still trying to find her. In the meantime, I can help other people.”
“And was she named Rose?” you ask, hoping you aren’t pushing.
“Her name is Yelena. But she loved roses, so I guess it’s my way of feeling connected to her.” You haven’t seen her speak this softly about anyone.
“That’s really beautiful, Natasha,” you say.
“Yeah,” she says. “Do you maybe want to stay for a little while after everyone leaves?”
“I’d love to,” you say, a smile on your face.
“Good because I want to snuggle,” she admits. You share a chuckle and finish getting dressed together.
You leave her study and everyone goes about their way except for you and Natasha. You stay at her house and learn everything about her. Talking all night, sharing kisses, and a couple more rounds of intense sex, you have a perfect time with her.
This isn’t what you expected out of working for Natasha Romanoff, but you will take it.
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