( The reader teases Peter a little too much, and things get out of hand. )
A/N: My love for Peter Parker ( and Tom Holland ) knows no bounds. And I’m still sobbing over Tom Holland. TBH if I had a boyfriend like Peter, I would tease him every moment I get. Except that I’m usually the flustered shy one. Requests are open, BTW, so send them in!
is my evac, Clint?” Your voice is tinged with irritation as you switch on your
comm-link. Breathe, (Y/n). Don’t yell. “Clint? Please tell me that you aren’t
sleeping on the job.”
heels click against the tiled floor of a long, narrow passage. You’ve disabled
the two guards stationed at the entrance of the archives before they could
raise the alarm but there’s no telling how long it would take before someone competent
realizes what’s going on.
here, I’m here. Sheesh, can’t a guy step out to get a cup of coffee for one
in the distance, an alarm erupts, screeching through the airways. Dang it. The
patrol must have found the bodies.
when I’m in blind in a Hydra facility. So
help me, Clint –”
alright, no need to get huffy with me. Besides, Spidey’s got your back.”
smile flits across your face at the mention of Peter. The awkward, adorable boy
is easy to be with, and is even easier to love, and you like him. A lot. You’re
sure that Clint can hear the smile in your voice when you say, “He’s securing
the perimeter. So no.”
in Wing C. I think.” Ripping the emergency map off the wall, you consider the
corridors and say, “Yeah, definitely Wing C. Files are with me.”
job, kid. Get to the roof, and I’ll pick the two of you up from there.”
affectionate nickname sends a wave of warmth crashing over you, and your smile
widens. “Sure. See you in ten.”
you there?” Turning off your comm-link, you pull your phone out of your pocket,
dialling his number by heart. You hope he’ll pick up. “It’s me.”
does. Peter’s voice sounds as though he’s holding his phone at arm’s length. He’s
put you on speaker too; you can hear muffled screams and thumps on Peter’s end,
but none of them sound like him. In fact, it sounds as though he’s having fun.
1 to Agent 1. Copy. Over.”
make a mental note to never, ever let
Peter watch anymore James Bond movies. His “spy lingo” is downright atrocious.
for the millionth time since the two of you had started dating, you start to
laugh. “You have seriously been watching too many spy movies. Is the perimeter
you watched them all with me! Over.”
avoiding the question, you realize, and your smile falters the tiniest bit. “Peter?”
His voice is sheepish as it floats over the speakers. “Um, yeah, it’s secure.
More or less. Over.”
less?” You ask, pinching the bridge of your nose and bracing for bad news.
as in one of the guards may have called for backup before I could stop him. So
prepare for incoming. Over.”
Spider 1,” You drawl out sarcastically, your voice rising above a symphony of
rapidly approaching footsteps. As yet unnoticed, you duck behind a now
abandoned security desk, keeping your voice hushed. “Now could you please get
over to Wing C? Our ride’s waiting.”
that. Spider 1, out. Over.”
a loud commotion. A group of men whisk past you. Six go down the hall you’d
come from, and one mutters, “We aren’t paid enough for this.” Some enter the
elevators. They’re all dressed haphazardly, as if they’ve been roused from
sleep and had had to hurry. There must be a facility close by. Like army
barracks, maybe. You’d have to be careful to avoid it.
gaze longingly at the doors to the stairwell leading to the roof.
men stay behind and assume their positions, forcing you to inch your way around
the desk to continue to hide your presence. You sit for a moment, trying to
decide on your next move.
only one thing to do, really.
to the end of the desk, you peek out around the edge, noting the exact
positions of the guards. Yanking your ICER ( ‘Incapacitating Cartridge Emitting
Raygun’ ) out of your thigh sheath, you cock your weapon and fire. Sticky
pellets containing 50,000 volts find their way into bare skin. Their bodies
perform involuntary twitching dances; they’re unconscious by the time they hit
heels click as you stride forwards, picking your way over motionless arms and
legs. The door to the stairwell flies open, a black-clad figure appears in the
doorway. Oh, well. Too late to hide
now. Shrugging, you walk closer, but no one else comes to stop you. Fixing a
pleasant smile onto cherry red lips, you ready your ICER.
baby,” The mook leers, eyes lingering far too long on your chest and legs for
your liking. “Did you come here to play?”
Gross. Your smile slips. You’ve
just taken out two of his underlings, and that’s
the best he can come up with? Forget the ICER; you’re going to enjoy beating this guy up. You aren’t
going to give him the satisfaction of a response. Instead, you tuck your ICER
back into your thigh sheath and shift into a defensive position.
funny, babe. Where did you learn that? On TV?”
One response. A stinging anticipation
winds through you as you stalk forwards. “Why don’t you come over here and find
he makes his next move – a punch that practically oozes contempt and confidence
– you’re ready. You duck, avoiding impact, and he swipes air. You deliver a
vicious kick, buckling his knees. As he goes down with a yelp of pain, you
elbow him in the back of the head. Yeah. Forget honour. You’ll go with dirty.
attempts to rise. You waste no time in leaping onto him, planting yourself on
his neck and pinning his shoulders to the floor. As far as most deaths go, this
one isn’t all together unpleasant; at least this creep is being suffocated by the
thighs of a girl, which is more than
name is not babe. I’m (F/n) (L/n), and I am this close to crushing your misogynistic
skull with my thighs.”
face is turning a funny shade of puce. You let him suffer for a few more
seconds before you pull out your ICER and stun him.
soft, awe-filled whisper catches you completely off guard. From your place atop
of the Hydra mook, his face still crushed between your thighs, you offer Peter
a wicked grin, which makes his heart stutter in his chest. He gulps audibly, a
gesture which does not go unnoticed by you.
“Relax, Peter,” You purr, looking up at
him from under thickly dusted lashes. “How long have you been here?”
enough to see you crush him with your thighs,” Peter manages, his gaze
ping-ponging from the mook unconscious on the floor to your unconventional
seat, your face radiant and flushed and pretty. “I don’t know why I rushed over.”
you love me?” Batting your eyelashes, you smile a sweet, sweet smile, looking as though butter wouldn’t melt in your mouth. “And
your life would have a noted lack of (Y/n)
if I wasn’t around?”
to your surprise, Peter actually nods. You can’t see his face under his mask, but
you know Peter’s smiling over the blush that paints his cheeks. Huffing out a
laugh, you release the male from your clutches, straightening your skirt and thigh
highs. Unlike Agent Romanoff, who prefers skin-tight spandex during combat, you’re
particularly fond of skirts, which allow for ease of movement.
and it’s easier to take down people when they’re busy ogling your bare legs.
trying not to stare. The operative word being ‘trying’. He’s manfully covered
the eye-holes of his mask, but his fingers are splayed too widely for them to
truly be effective at blocking your figure out.
keep a neutral, pleasant smile on your lips as you stand, the one that Peter
hates because he can’t tell what you’re hiding. An idea is forming in your
head, the gears in your mind turning. You feel a bit mean for what you’re about
to do, but the desire to see Peter squirm wins out.
deliberately, you hitch your skirt up so that it settles high up on your hips,
revealing the wide gap of skin between your stockings and your skirt. Your
tongue darts out to swipe across glossy lips as you walk over to Peter, swaying
your hips strictly more than necessary.
rewarded with a strangled squeak. He’s given up his charade of “a little
peeking”, and is unabashedly staring at every shimmy and shake of your hips. You’re
sure Peter knows exactly what you’re playing at, but he doesn’t have it in him
to tell you to stop, it seems.
stammered protests are swallowed up when you push up his mask to press a kiss
to his lips. It starts slow at first, but soon speeds up into something wild.
His hands settle on your hips while yours try to tug his shirt off – only to
remember that he’s in spandex, not cotton. You groan in frustration, Peter
hastily untangles himself from you and hastily backs away.
Peter sounds scandalized as he tries to protest again, his voice dazed and
accusatory all at the same time – although he doesn’t sound all that mad that
you’d technically seduced him into an impromptu make-out session in a Hydra base.
“We’re still – We can’t!”
know, I know,” You say on a laugh,
giving him a last, quick peck on the mouth before Peter tugs his mask back into
place, hiding cheeks tinted pink. “I’m sorry! I couldn’t resist.”
your voice into a conspiratorial whisper, “I’ll take care of your, ah, problem later at home, okay?”
dance off down the hallway with a laugh, your skirt still hitched up high,
swishing around your thighs as you go. Peter groans from behind you, and you
wave cheerily at him over your shoulder.
Ruby lay with her head resting on Weiss’ chest, her partner and girlfriend working her fingers through the tangled knots of Ruby’s hair. These moments were what Ruby lived for nowadays, the quiet stillness of the pre-dawn hours when she and Weiss were the only ones awake. Getting to share this time alone together almost made the nightmares that jarred both of them awake every night worth it. Sometimes they whispered quietly, reminiscing about Beacon or chatting about small, unimportant things; sometimes they just sat in silence and enjoyed each others’ company.
Tonight fell into the latter category. Ruby had woken up a few minutes earlier, shaking and afraid from her dreams to find Weiss already awake and waiting as she always was. She hadn’t said a word, had simply gestured for Ruby to come closer, leading her to her current position. The silence between them was comfortable and Ruby let the world outside of Weiss’ arms melt away.
“You talk in your sleep, you know,” Weiss said suddenly.
Ruby looked up at her, confused. “I do?”
“It took me forever to get used to at Beacon. Some nights I wanted nothing more than to smother you with a pillow.”
“I’m sorry,” Ruby mumbled, feeling heat creep into her face. “That must’ve sucked.”
Weiss chuckled. “You know, sometimes I enjoyed knowing what you were dreaming about.”
Ruby grinned. Hearing Weiss talk about their relationship at Beacon never failed to be absolutely adorable “Hoping to hear your name?”
Weiss nudged her playfully. “Shut up, dolt.” Then, after a pause, “You used to talk to Summer a lot in your dreams.”
Ruby nodded silently. Her thoughts had a habit of turning to Summer at night, thinking about what she would say about whatever particular problem Ruby was struggling with at the moment.
“Tonight you were crying. You didn’t say anything, you just…cried.” Weiss continued. Ruby stiffened as she thought about the darker places sleep had taken her lately. “Do you…do you wish to talk about it?”
Ruby realized suddenly that she did, even though it would shatter the fragile sense of peace they had created. She wanted nothing more than to spill her heart out to the girl who held her. “I dreamed I was home, in Patch,” she began, hesitantly. :”Except our house wasn’t there, there were just ashes and somehow I just knew everyone was dead. Dad, Yang, Blake, you. And I just sat there as it sunk in that I was going to be alone for the rest of my life.” Describing it, Ruby felt numb. She didn’t cry, she didn’t waver, she just felt cold and empty. Was that worse? Maybe. She was too tired to care.
Weiss’ grip tightened around her “Ruby, that sounds just awful. I’m so, terribly sorry.”
Ruby sat up, twisting so that she was facing Weiss before kissing her softly. Warmth and love flooded in to drive off the hollowness inside her chest. “It’s okay. They’re just dreams, Weiss, and I don’t want to think about them. I want to think about you.” She planted another quick peck on Weiss’s nose before settling back down against her shoulder.
Silence fell again, but it wasn’t the same as before. The real world had crept back in. “What are your nightmares about?” Ruby finally asked.
Weiss was quiet for so long that Ruby thought she had fallen asleep, but finally she spoke. “They used to be about my father’s mansion. I’d find myself back there and realize this had all been a dream, or he’d found me and dragged me back there. But now…” she trailed off.
Weiss’ reply was barely audible. “My nightmares are usually about losing you.”
Ruby snuggled closer to Weiss, hoping it would comfort her. “You aren’t gonna lose me. I’m right here.”
“I have watched you die every night in a hundred different ways. Waking up and getting to hold you like this feels like a miracle,” Weiss murmured, burying her face in Ruby’s hair.
“Oum, imagine your past self looking at us now.” Ruby tried to lighten the mood, desperately wanting to move on from all the talk of dying and gloom.
Weiss giggled in a very un-Schee-like way. “I would have thought we’d both gone mad. I think you would have been even more disgusted.”
Ruby snorted. “Are you kidding? I had a massive crush on you ever since the moment you saved me from that nevermore.”
“And what about now?” Weiss’ voice was low and full of amusement. “Am I still your crush?”
“Nope.” Ruby turned to face Weiss, grinning. “Weiss Schnee, you are the love of my life.”
Request: Can you please write a fanfiction about Tony being in an abusive Relationship and Clay is oblivious about it at first, not seeing the signs and changes. Until one day Tony doesnt come to school because his boyfriend beat him so bad he ends up in hospital? Something angsty with hurt/Tony in it, thank you. Of course i can understand if you dont wanna write about such a topic. It is definitely not an easy one to write about :(
Word Count: 1.6K Warnings: crude language, sexual implications, warren making daddy jokes haha A/N : Fake Relationship AU with Warren Also idk how I feel about this so plz send feedback
Warren turned on his heels about ready to bolt straight out the door when he felt your hand trailing up his bicep, cupping his shoulder and spinning him to face you. He blinked, too shocked to move and too slow to escape,
“Warren pleaseeeeeeeeee” You begged your e/c eyes pleading with his gorgeous blue eyes. He nearly let out a whine as he starred down at you; batting your lashes at him your lips puckered in a pretty pout.
“please angel, for me…” You smirked as you watched his cheeks grow pink at the childhood nickname.
He coughed awkwardly before puffing out his chest and rolling his eyes again, “Y/N I don’t understand why this is so important to you! Just go out and find a real boyfriend, it really shouldn’t be that hard for you I could think of like at least 5 guys just off the top of my head who would-”
“No Warren! it has to be you! You are Scott’s roommate and he absolutely despises your influence on me!”
“What kind of influence? What do I do to you, baby?” He winked leaning closer as his eyes trailed over your body.