Tony gets clingy after Peter comes back. He’s drifting between consciousness and drug-induced sleep after each surgery, and he’s so out of it he can’t tell the difference from Peter disappearing and him closing his eyes.
He keeps reaching out with his good hand, keeps muttering “you’re coming back, right?” and “Pep, don’t let him wander off, just give me a second,” and “don’t go anywhere, wait for me.”
And Peter’s sitting at his bedside in the hospital. He’s smushed in a seat with a little girl he doesn’t know that propped herself up on his lap and promptly called him big brother. Pepper’s beside him, and they’re all weepy, and he doesn’t even feel like he really belongs there, but Tony is adamant that he stays.
He’s trying not to think about how he’s the first thing Tony looks for in the room when his eyes open. He’s trying to convince himself he’s not all that important, here, because maybe it’ll make it hurt less if Tony doesn’t end up pulling through.
when i’m looking through the for you page and i suddenly get bombarded with fics of fandoms and characters that i have never read or shown ANY interest in
contains: Johnny Sinclair × fem!reader, mention of smoking weed (Johnny and reader), talks of sex, snapchat hate (I am right in my beliefs.), Johnny texting like a teenage boy :/, Johnny's side of this is casual by Chappell Roan, fem reader in male dominated fields, swearing, the gifts are based of what I'd wanna receive/spend Sinclair money on, DL yearner!Johnny, VERY brief smut, fingers in his mouth friday!!, riding/cowgirl position, author's first time writing smut/moaning so...I'm sorry, swiftie!Cady and Mirren agenda being spread, bits of angst, 1358 wc
There was no shortage of people bragging they hooked up with Johnny Sinclair. All true or not, the guy clearly didn't think about the fact he was famous and that'd become his very public reputation — something anyone could see the Sinclairs cared deeply about keeping pristine. Like their appearances.
And maybe it was the fact you didn't care about the attention that Johnny kept seeing you.
Sharing a blunt at a party invited shotgunning, then making out, which became what Johnny called the best sex he's ever had.
You rolled your eyes, swinging your legs off the bed to stand.
"Hey! Wait, can I get your number?" he requested, reaching out for you causing his bare torso to stretch over the side of the mattress you just laid, looking wide eyed up at you. Would he probably never use it? Yeah. Would he probably have to block it after monday when his teammates hyped him up for another body, meaning you'd blabbed? Yeah. But Johnny wasn't going to miss an opportunity to have sex like that again. "Please?"
You smirked, hips shimmying as you pulled back up your underwear, "only because you asked for my number and not my snap."
"Yes!" he celebrated with a discreet fist pump, moving to retrieve his phone out of his jeans discarded on the floor.
Waiting that entire week for gossip that didn't come, Johnny messaged you.
"have u told anyone we hooked up?"
"no
have you heard otherwise?"
"no just wondering
u free tonite?"
"yeah wanna come over?"
"whats your address?"
He was there on the dot.
He usually was, making a habit bringing you something too.
It started small with flowers, that became your favourite flowers when Johnny learnt what they were, then other little items you mentioned liking in conversations you had pre and post sex, or that he gathered you liked by your room.
Finding a vase for another bouquet he'd brought you, you told him he didn't have to give you a present every time you hooked up; the sex was enough.
Johnny shrugged, hand sliding into his pockets, "Sinclairs come bearing gifts."
"Do Sinclairs do sneaky links?" you playfully questioned in return, messing with how the flowers sat in the holder.
"We're more friends with benefits people," he insisted.
You nod, "ahh, so we're friends now?" turning to face him.
"I mean, we're friendly..."
"We're friendly 'cause we're fucking, Johnny!" you laughed, and he forced a chuckle out too. "I do appreciate them, but it's a little funny, like offerings for pussy; if I'm satisfied with what you get me, you get laid."
"Oh we both know I get that from you for free," Johnny quipped, coming to stand closer to you.
"Yeah?" He nodded, self assured.
"I just a great guy on top of that," he unseriously gloated, hands running up your sides.
But the presents got grander (you guess Sinclairs couldn't help it), and that should've been your sign this was becoming more to him, going from small collectables to medium sized lego sets, to concert tickets for your favourite artist.
They were so not Johnny's scene, but he bought two tickets with going alongside you in mind, even if he didn't intend to say that when he gave you them after another hook up, following you noting he didn't bring you something this time.
"Oh yeah, almost forgot I got us these," Johnny replied, grabbing his wallet and the printed tickets out of it to hand you. He clenched his jaw at his Freudian slip, but you didn't seem to pay it any mind, too busy freaking out and thanking the fuck out of him. He couldn't help but smile at seeing you so happy.
"Is this just some expensive way to take me out on a date without asking me out on a date?" you teased.
"It's not a date," Johnny claimed. "Just as friends."
"Friend who fuck each other," you corrected, shuffling to get comfortable.
"Friends who have really great sex," he agreed, arms accommodating you lying back against him.
You tried to give him a rundown of the artist's lore while getting ready, Johnny having asked why you got him to wear what he did, but all he could think about was the likelihood of people seeing you together, holding hands to not lose each other in the crowds.
Some hundred photos — and a concert — later, he's telling you his parents are visiting family out of town, and his little brother's at a sleepover, so you wouldn't have to sneak in and out, or be quiet, which entices you the most, loving the sounds Johnny made since you'd encouraged him to be more vocal, one of the many things you'd taught him.
Like using his large hands to his advantage, thumb able to reach and rub your clit while holding your hips, as he was doing currently.
Your fingers in his mouth wipe saliva down his throat and onto his chest, needing to change your hands' positioning for better support with your impending climax.
"Oh my God— Johnny! 'gonna cum!—"
"Fuck!— use me to get yourself there," he responds, free hand helping you keep the rolling of your hips fast amidst his occasional jerky buck.
Johnny's eyes sweep up you moving on top of him, and your hands come to cup his face when you make eye contact, both deliriously close, mouths open with pants and moans. The intense intimacy makes his head fly back into his pillow, eyelids squeezed shut as he nearly shouts through your repetition of his name, "I love you! I love you!" cum shooting and filling up the condom wrapped around him inside you. You topple over the edge without a second to react, gasping half from pleasure, but mainly shock. "Holy ffuuuccckk I love you..."
Don't make him feel embarrassed is your main priority now, so you roll off of him and curl up to his side, pressing kisses down his chest before resting your head.
Then neither of you speak for too long.
"...I should probably go before I fall asleep and your family comes home to a girl in your bed," you express, already moving to get up.
"You don't have to," Johnny says, arm extending to rest a hand on your back.
"I know," you nod, standing to pull your underwear back up, and Johnny's eyes dip to see the string of your thong disappear between your cheeks. "Just, while your bed is really comfy, and so are you to cuddle with, I want to shower and sleep in my own bed tonight," you reason.
"Alright..."
Johnny is silent as you redress, head loud with "who the fuck says I love you to a friend they're fucking, during sex?!"
He has to say something to get himself out of it, "you had fun tonight, right?"
"Of course! So much fun," you answer, sitting back on the bed edge to put on your shoes. "I don't think I'll ever be able to say how grateful I am," you add, leaning back and pecking his lips. Johnny's hand holds the side of your head to prolong the kiss. "And thank you for coming with me and dressing how I told you to," you mumble against his lips.
He hums, "anytime."
A sharp pain shoots through Johnny's chest when you return up right and continue slipping on your other shoe.
"Hey, about...what I said," he starts and you're lucky your back is facing him so you don't have to hide your reluctant expression. "It was just like, a really...like, passionate—"
"Johnny, you don't owe me an explanation or your feelings," you interrupt. "It's not like we're dating."
"Right..." he accepts, then bitterly, "I'm yours but you're not mine, got it."
Your brows knit and you look at him over your shoulder.
You're sure you'd heard that line in a song before, but, unable to name it, you let it slide.
"Excuse me?"
"I meant it, okay?" Johnny snaps. "And if your response to that is to remind me I'm nothing but a dick to you, then yeah, I think you should go."
a/n: they went to an ethel cain concert and they dressed up as ethel and willoughby (reader said it was just because he's blond!) and they filmed tiktoks together with him facing away from the camera. they're casual guys totally casual
naw my baby boy ☹️☹️☹️
I'D NEVER TREAT YOU LIKE THAT JOHNNY
if this has any errors or is just straight ass towards the end (or all the way through) like i really don't know what to say.
I'm sorry.
also this is how i want to format fics (currently at least) but couldn't find an image I liked of Johnny that suited this fic, so I just picked that one
JUST LIKE YOU <3
contains: teen parent au, reader's parents totally aren't based off mine..., brief talk of bad parents and traumatic/abusive childhoods, Eloise's appearance is going to be inconsistent (depending on my mood tbh) for diversity purposes, FLUFF!!!!, wrote this while listening to sienna by The Marías and honeybee by O.R so blame them for the sappiness, 424 wc
Neither of you liked the parental relationships you grew up around, but you couldn't fathom just how ill-fitting it was that they had kids together until you became parents yourselves — as teenagers at that! When everyone assumes a person would take the worst care of a child!
You both just internalised it was a thing that parents didn't like their child being reminiscent of their partner over them. It wasn't like you were short for examples of such: your father scaring all of your mother's trait out of you, Johnny's dad hitting him because he was Carrie's — not his — son, your mother trying to make you her mini me in an awful attempt of coping with what she chose as the father for her child.
But not once did either of you look at Eloise, a perfect mix of you two, with resentment.
If anything, it made you love her even more, because you loved everything about what made her.
She had your hair and eyes, but Johnny's face, and mannerisms.
You had a whole folder on your phone (some you printed for collages so Eloise's childhood photos weren't just digital) of them embodying the phrase 'like father like daughter.'
One of your favourites was a video you caught while out in public, Johnny sitting with his arms crossed, mean mugging, and Eloise looking at him with a tiny head tilt before copying the pose herself, sat right beside him. The moment didn't last long, Johnny's arms unfolding to wrap around Eloise, deadpan expression changing for something theatrical to "attack" her with kisses while she giggled, "daddy!" and he scooped her onto his lap, but it was an adorable case of monkey see, monkey do.
Others showed Eloise sprawled out on her back, asleep on Johnny's chest, as he was knocked out and sprawled out the same way, or the two yawning at the same time mid tennis match.
And Johnny adored every piece of you he found in her.
Her laugh, her smile, how she expressed dislike in a food or drink he got her to try, hand already cupped under her chin to catch the semi-chewed up spinach leaf; her love for reading and learning, her little hands finding their way into daddy's hair like she saw mommy's always did, and when he reminds her to use gentle hands, her attitude replying, "I knnooww," all thanks to you, and he made a point of displaying that appreciation.
Carrie and Ed said that's how you know you had a kid with the right person.
a/n: sorry not sorry for the spinach hate...IT WASN'T ME! IT WAS ELOISE!!
omg johnny would so use eloise as an excuse. but in an unserious way. like he fucks something up, and when reader rhetorically questions who did it, he points to a literal sleeping infant.
"Johnny...she's a baby."
"That's how they trick you!"
As Eloise grows up, and they're messing things up together, they both point to each other, and Eloise gets offended, then puts on her puppy dog eyes, "daddy's being mean to me, mommy..." and he knows he can't fight against that.
naww, my bebies
ALSO IS THIS THE FIRST FIC (drabble...) I'M POSTING WHERE ELOISE IS OUT OF THE WOMB?!?!?! YYYIIPPPPEEE!!!!! BE KIND TO HER WORLD!!!! or I'll find you. I don't play about my baby girl.
areudirty
pixelskylines
tangentwithtanner
discoholicmusic
titsay
romaincrisis
gummygunk
turnnoffyourmind
stormborns
gracieabrams
theartofmadeline
yousharknotpass
