#my fic

[theaftersundown]

the holy grail types of fanfic

[kamorbitz]

'•.¸♡ pervy best friend!choso pt2

pervy best friend!choso who thinks you're his lucky charm and wants you to sit in his lap while he plays video games. while you're perched on his thighs with his arms on either side of you, he kisses your neck and nibbles on your ear as his fingers fiddle with his controller. when he wins a game he'll turn your face towards him and give you a peck on the lips, calling it a 'celebratory kiss'.

pervy bestfriend!choso who insists on coming with you whenever you want to buy lingerie - a second opinion is always useful right? he'll pick out a set in your favourite colour and wait for you outside the dressing room. once you're out, you give him a quick twirl bending down and shaking your ass a little. he'll come up behind you to help you 'adjust your bra strap', but really it's to feel your plush ass against his dick. you know exactly what he's doing and push back against him, grinding softly against his growing erection. when he coughs out a groan, you feign innocence, asking him sweetly if he's okay.

pervy bestfriend!choso who takes advantage of the fact that you become extremely affectionate when you're sleepy. whenever you go over to his place and end up sleeping over, you cuddle him tightly, wrapping your arms around his neck and throwing one of your legs over his own. choso feels his cock strain against the fabric of his boxers as you wiggle against him in an atempt to get comfortable, feeling your tits pressed against his arm and the warmth of your pussy against his thigh.

pervy bestfriend!choso who can't believe his luck when he looks over too see that the strap of your tank top has fallen all the way down and exposed your bare breasts. He stares as your tits rise and fall as you breathe, basically inviting him to suck on them. He leans down to watch your nipples harden and his mouth is on them in seconds. I mean, how could he possibly resist? Choso's eyes are half-lidded as he swirls his tongue around your bud, his spit coating every inch of your nipple.

pervy bestfriend!choso who is too focused on your chest to notice that you've been awake the whole time, watching him groan as he sucks your nipple passionately. Choso only realises you're awake when your hand travels to his hair and you start running your fingers through his thick strands.

pervy bestfriend!choso whose face is flushed in embarassment as he tries to explain why he was latched to your nipple just seconds ago but immediately shuts up when he feels your hand start to caress his bulge.

pervy bestfriend!choso who can't believe he might actually get to fuck you.

a/n: pt 3 is out!

[pickelsx]

ᥫ᭡- sukuna witnesses you stretching one time and can’t get enough

it’s your routine that you’ve been doing far before you and sukuna got together, you stretch. it’s the late afternoon, an hour before sukuna gets home from work, the sunset spilles through the ajar window, painting your stretching form and highlighting your natural beauty.

Your favourite song echoes throughout yours and sukunas welcoming home, as you ease your self into a lunge. A groan escapes your mouth, while the built up tension in your muscles leave your body, from the hectic day you had at work .

You value this hour you have alone since your able to connect with your self and let your mind have a rest. Although, you do adore sukuna and he’s the love of your life he has no idea what you get up to in this hour .

You know theirs no need to lie, but you feel like a child again, being able to keep secrets just between you and your self.

He has asked before, what you have been doing, but a white lie never hurt anybody. You would just say simply watching a movie.

While you’re in your head performing the splits, you don’t manage to hear the front door open and sukuna come home.

as soon as sukuna enters, he finds it ominous that your favourite song is playing, curiosity instantly hits him.

He always wandered what you did in your free time without his claustrophobic presence.

sukunas makes sure to not make a racket while making it to the living room.

When he sees you doing the splits, looking calm as ever, he’s amazed all the years you’ve been together sukuna has never seen you do this.

A smirk grows on his face, he watches you for a few moments until you notice him.

when you do notice his daunting figure behind you, watching your every movement, you jump out your skin.

you look at the clock that sits perfectly centred on the wall "you are home early kuna"

he chuckles at you, resulting in you to pout as you slowly get out of the splits.

although you're shocked your body feels much better.

'' no wander I can bend you in any direction in bed " you choke on your own spit at sukuna.

''well now you know what I do in this hour'' you don't get any comment back

after that afternoon, you haven't had that hour alone again all because of sukuna

just as you're about to stretch he marches through the door early. miraculously his job lets him go early now.

due to sukuna you have been introduced into a new stretching technique and sukuna is the main object.

you stretch your leg onto his shoulder and he thoroughly enjoys it.

you're doing the stretch currently, and sukuna can't help but admire your body's flexibility, he's obsessed with It.

I really like this one. I have so many fics that I want to write it’s just laziness as the moment

it’s like a slice of life 🤍

[warmfrequency]

the 141 aren’t stupid -- they wouldn’t carry a photo of you in their vest or helmet. no name written anywhere, nothing on their body that could potentially trace to a woman back home.

but they all carry something.

simon has a hair tie on his wrist. black, cheap, the kind you buy in packs of fifty and lose all over the damn flat. it sits under the cuff of his glove, biting into his skin, reminding him exactly why he needs to make it home. it always smells like your shampoo for a bit before it starts to smell like his own sweat, he finds himself a new one on the bathroom floor before each deployment.

price wears a watch. it’s not the watch that’s about you, really. it’s that he started setting the second time zone to match yours. he checks it more than he should, especially at night when he can’t sleep and it’s three a.m where he is and eight a.m where you are. he’ll think: ‘she’ll be making coffee, i wonder what she wore to bed’ and that’s the closest he lets himself get to mixing you with work.

kyle wears a bracelet. it’s thin braided yarn, the kind of thing you learned to make as a kid at camp. you made it on a slow sunday afternoon while he was half-asleep on your thigh. he said ‘oh, that’s sick, darling. ta!’, put it on and hasn’t taken it off since. it’s absolutely filthy these days. and when it starts to fray, he simply keeps re-knotting it, sometimes johnny has to help get it tight.

johnny carries a folded square of paper that’s gone so soft it feels like fabric, he keeps it safe in a zipped pocket on his kit. it’s a grocery list in your looping handwriting that you’d left him on the kitchen counter one morning. eggs, soy milk, the good butter, berries, your stupid crisps, wine (red). it’s got a small heart in the corner -- that’s the most worn bit because he brushes his thumb over it every night.

[raveninrouge]

“Why is she here again?” you muttered under your breath as the influencer clomped through the mud in tactical boots cleaner than your mess kit.

“For PR,” Soap whispered, like it was classified intel. “And because someone hates us.”

The influencer—Tiffany or Tiff or whatever—gave Ghost another lingering look like he was a shirtless firefighter in a calendar. “Ghosty, can you show me how to hold the big scary gun again? Pretty please?” she cooed, doing something horrifying with her eyelashes.

Ghost didn’t look up from checking his gear. “No.

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing. She turned her death glare on you like you'd just stolen her ring light.

During drills, she "accidentally" pushed a duffel into your path. You tripped, took a dirt dive, and landed face-first in gravel. “Oopsies,” she said, not sorry at all.

Price barked at you in front of the squad. Ghost glanced your way, jaw tight. You grunted and kept walking. You’d live. Probably.

It wasn’t until the field op that things got serious. A misfired flare caused a small explosion, splitting the team. You and Ghost ended up holed in an abandoned barn with limited comms and nightfall closing in.

“You alright?” he asked, checking your shoulder where shrapnel grazed.

“I’ll live. You?”

“Better now that she’s not here,” he muttered.

You chuckled, the sound low and tired. “You know she sees me as a rival?”

“Figured. She stares at you like she wants to murder you with a glittery bayonet.”

A silence hung between you, thicker than smoke. Then—

Ghost reached out, his gloved fingers surprisingly gentle as they hooked under your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. The harsh shadows of the barn softened around him, and for a second, the chaos outside completely faded.

With his free hand, he reached up and slowly pulled the edge of his mask up just past his lips. Before you could even register the rare sight, he leaned in, his breath warm against your skin. He pressed a soft, lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth, tasting faintly of mint and rain, sending a sharp jolt of electricity straight down your spine.

He lingered there for a heartbeat, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone, wiping away a streak of dirt. "I've been wanting to do that since you took that dive earlier," he murmured, his voice a low, rough purr right against your ear. "You look devastating when you're angry."

You could feel your heart hammering against your ribs, your breath catching in your throat as you wrapped a hand around his wrist, pulling him just a fraction closer. "Is that a confession, Lieutenant?"

"It’s a promise," he breathed, his hand shifting to cup the back of your neck, you could feel the heat radiating off him. "When we get back to base, I'm showing you exactly what you mean to me. Understood?"

Before anything else could be said, the door burst open. Tiffanie stood there, red-faced and holding her phone.

“I demand to be extracted! This lighting is heinous, and nobody told me there’d be spiders!”

Ghost pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Ma’am, calm down—” you tried.

“I knew you’d sabotage me! You’re just jealous!”

And that’s when she grabbed your vest.

You sighed, pulled out your taser, and shot her square in the thigh.

She collapsed like a diva in a soap opera.

Ghost looked down at her twitching body. “..You didn’t even hesitate.”

“She’s lucky I didn’t set her eyelashes on fire.”

Ghost stared at you, then nodded. “I’ll back your report.”

You shrugged. “Self-defence.”

Then you looked back up at the team who flooded in right at the moment, spoke deadpan. "You saw Nothing".

The squad looked anywhere but at them as the sky suddenly was a lot more interesting. "Must have been the wind.", they said in unison.

[alrisyl]

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧?! 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐨𝐥!

pairings: homecoming! peter parker x fem! reader

summary: You go to Peter’s expecting a normal hangout, only to accidentally discover he’s Spider-Man… and react way more excited than he was prepared for.

warnings: use of y/n, fluff, friends to lovers, mutual crush, identity reveal, humor, mild suggestiveness, awkward nudity (non-explicit), aunt may interruption, chaotic reader, peter parker being a mess, first kiss, light teasing, lower case intended!

notes: reader is said to have hair.. sorry if you're bald! slightly proofread!

word count: 3.9k

you were sitting cross legged on Peter’s bed, absently flipping through a worn comic book, the pages soft from being read a hundred times over.

the oversized Spider-Man top you borrowed from peter.. and maybe planned on never giving back, slipped slightly off one shoulder, your pajama pants loose and comfortable against your legs.

every now and then, you glanced toward the door, listening for footsteps.

ned had bailed last minute, something about his grandma needing help “cleaning spider webs off the ceiling,” which sounded completely made up but you hadn’t pressed.

honestly… you didn’t mind.

if anything, it made your stomach flutter a little.

because now it was just you and Peter.

you tried not to smile at the thought, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you turned another page without really reading it.

you’d been looking forward to this all day, telling yourself it was just a normal hangout, nothing special but the quiet would feel different without Ned there filling every silence.

your eyes drifted around peter’s room, the scattered school books, the cluttered desk, the half finished projects and you couldn’t help but feel a little fondness bloom in your chest. It all felt so… him.

and maybe just maybe you liked him a little more than you should.

okay, a lot more.

but it wasn’t like it was one sided… right?

you bit your lip, staring down at the comic in your hands, though your mind had completely wandered.

the way he looked at you sometimes, the way his voice softened just a bit when he said your name…

or how he’d glance at you first when something funny happened, like your reaction mattered more than anyone else’s.

or the way he’d get just a little flustered when you stood too close, like he didn’t quite know what to do with his hands, or his words, or himself... it had to mean something.

a small smile tugged at your lips as you hugged the comic a little closer to your chest.

yeah… you were pretty sure peter liked you too.

a sudden thwip at the window made you jump.

the comic in your hands slipped slightly as your grip tightened, eyes snapping toward the sound.

the window.

something had hit it.

another faint creak followed, the soft rattle of glass shifting in its frame, like something or someone was right outside.

for a split second, everything stilled, your heart kicked hard against your ribs.

peter wasn’t home yet.

and may was downstairs.

so… who?

you slowly sat up straighter on the bed, pulse thudding in your ears, every instinct suddenly on edge as you turned your head and stared at the window, waiting for something, anything to move.

a small tug, so quiet you almost thought you imagined it but no, the bottom edge of the window shifted, just barely, like something was pulling at it from the outside.

the latch gave with a soft click, your fingers curled more on the comic book, gripping harder while your eyes stayed locked on the window as it began to slide open a few inches on its own.

cool air slipped into the room first, brushing against your skin, lifting the curtains just enough to make them sway.

your heart was pounding so loud you were sure may could hear it from downstairs.

the window opened wider.

the outside noise crept in, distant traffic, a horn somewhere far off, the hum of the city.

a slow, creeping chill ran down your spine as something moved around outside of the window.

you couldn't move or speak, it was like you were frozen in place.

a blur crossed your line of sight, and before your brain could catch up, a figure swung through the opening with impossible speed, landing inside peter’s room in one smooth motion.

a quiet thud against the floor, crouched perfectly, like they had done it a thousand times before.

you watched, breath trapped in your chest.

the figure stayed crouched for a second, one hand pressed flat against the wall, the other steadying them on the floor.

muscles coiled, alert, like they were listening for something outside.

oblivious to the fact that someone was already in the room.

then slowly, almost cautiously, they straightened. The light from the window caught the fabric of the suit, and suddenly the details came into focus.

your stomach dropped, 'No way.' you thought to yourself.

standing in the middle of peter’s room was spider-man.

the suit shimmered faintly under the sunlight, all red and blue. Then, almost hesitantly, they reached up and pulled at the mask.

your eyes widened, jaw slowly falling open as the mask came off.

peter parker’s face was revealed, messy hair falling across his forehead, eyes wide and frantic, cheeks already pink from exertion.

peter, unaware that you were already there, exhaled shakily and began loosening the suit.

first he tugged at the shoulders, peeling them down slowly, you stayed silent, captivated, every muscle of your body tense as you watched.

he slid the sleeves off one by one, then slowly reached for the zipper at the back of the suit, sliding it down just far enough to reveal the top of his chest.

then, sliding the arms down, revealing his pale, toned arms that flexed with each subtle movement.

his breath was heavy, his movements were careful, as if he could feel the tension in the empty room even though he thought he was alone.

your eyes, though you tried to look away, betrayed you.

they lingered, dragged along the lean lines of his arms, the curve of his shoulders, and then his back as he slid the suit down further.

and then, without warning, his eyes flicked to the bed.

you. sitting there. watching. silent. time seemed to freeze.

peter froze mid motion, hands clutching the suit at his waist, face flaming red. “y-y/n…” he stammered, voice breaking slightly.

“peter.” your voice came out breathless, barely a whisper at first, then louder as realization hit. “you… you’re… spider-man?!” eyes still tracing him, but now in full realization. “It’s you… the whole time… it was you?”

“how’d you get in here i-“ he spoke, tilting his head before you cut him off.

“may let me in..” “wait… wait… wait!” you shrieked, springing upright. “you’re spider-man?! are you kidding me?! that’s insane! that’s so cool! i can’t believe it’s you!"

peter froze, muscles tensing, eyes wide. “I… I didn’t.. uh…”

you stood up on the bed, jumping around, hands flailing, pacing in excitement.

“this is unbelievable! you’re swinging around the city, saving people, and i had no idea it was you! oh my gosh, peter, i can’t even.. ”

in his panic, flustered and overwhelmed by your energy, peter tugged at the suit’s zipper again. “I... I can’t… just...” he yanked the rest of the spider-man suit off in a desperate attempt to explain, revealing his bare chest and toned torso. by the time he realized it, he was down to nothing but his boxers.

you thought for a second, then pointed a finger at his chest, heart still racing from your excitement. “wait- why didn’t you tell me? why didn’t you tell me it was you this whole time?!”

peter’s mouth opened and closed, cheeks bright red. “I… I… I didn’t… I didn’t think… you’d.. uh…” he scrambled, trying to cover himself with his hands and the discarded suit.

and that’s when it happened, the door swung open.

“peter? Y/N? are you-”

it was May and both of you froze. Your finger was still pointed at his chest. Peter was frozen mid cover, boxers on, red-faced beyond belief. You were half standing on the bed, still vibrating with excitement.

may’s eyes went wide immediately. The image of you two looked… wrong. Very, very wrong.

peter groaned, pressing a hand to his face. “May! I… it’s not what it looks like!”

may blinked at the two of you, clearly mortified herself. “I… I’m going to… give you two a minute.”

and just like that, she spun on her heel and walked out, shutting the door behind her.

the sound of the click echoed in the room.

you blinked at Peter, who was still hunched over, trying desperately to cover himself with the suit. His ears were red, his chest rising and falling quickly.

“well… that was… something,” you said, a grin tugging at your lips, still vibrating from excitement.

peter groaned again, flopping onto his bed beside you, pulling the suit over his lap. “I… I hate you right now.”

you laughed, now sitting, eyes tracing his bare chest. “I love you right now. This is amazing.”

“okay… okay,” you said, leaning back on your hands, still grinning, heart racing. “Seriously… does anyone else know? Like… Ned? MJ? Anyone?”

peter’s eyes went wide. His cheeks flushed deeper, and he shook his head quickly. “N-No! Nobody knows. It’s just… you. You can’t tell anyone. Not Ned, not MJ, not anyone. Promise me.”

you nodded. “Don’t worry… your secret’s safe with me.

you sat up a little straighter, your eyes still on peter. “…What?” he asked cautiously, already suspicious.

you clasped your hands together, leaning forward. “Okay. Hear me out.”

“No.” “I didn’t even say anything yet!”

“I know that tone,” he said, pointing at you.

you grinned. “I just think… hypothetically… as your very trustworthy best friend…”

“Uh-huh.”

“…I should get to try the web shooters.”

peter laughed in disbelief. “…Absolutely not.”

your jaw dropped. “What?! Why not?!”

“Because they’re not toys!” he shot back. “You could, like.. stick your hand to the ceiling! Or your face! Or something worse!”

“That sounds awesome,” you said immediately.

“That sounds like a hospital visit,” he corrected.

you scooted closer, grabbing his arm lightly. “Peter, come on. Just once! I won’t even aim at anything important. I’ll aim at, like… your chair.”

“My chair is important!”

you groaned dramatically, flopping back onto the bed. “You’re no fun.”

“I am fun! I just don’t want you accidentally webbing May to the wall!”

you snorted. “Okay, first of all, I would never...” There was a pause. “…Okay, maybe a small chance, but still!”

peter shook his head, trying not to laugh. “No. Not happening.”

you sat up again, closer this time, closer than before.

"I’m getting dressed. This conversation is over.”

“Please?” you said, softer now.

he hesitated, big mistake because you noticed immediately.

“Oh my god, that almost worked,” you whispered, eyes lighting up. “Peter.. ”

“Nope,” he said quickly, standing up. Peter was shaking his head, pacing a little now, running a hand through his already messy hair.

“No. Nope. Bad idea. Terrible idea,” he muttered. “You with web shooters? That’s statistically a disaster.”

you followed him with your eyes, arms crossed, trying not to smile. “You’re being dramatic.”

“I am not being dramatic. I have experience with these. You don’t.”

you slid off the bed and stepped closer. “Then teach me.”

he stopped pacing. “…Teach you?”

“Yeah,” you said simply. “You said they’re not toys. Fine. Show me how to use them properly.”

he hesitated. you could see the argument forming, the refusal right there. Then he sighed, a long, defeated sigh.

“…One shot,” he said, pointing at you. “One. You aim at something harmless. You listen to everything I say. And the second it goes wrong, I take them back.”

your entire face lit up. “Wait... really?!”

“I’m already regretting this,” he mumbled.

“Peter!” You grabbed his arm, practically bouncing. “You’re the best!”

"Yeah yeah." He said, as he turned around, walking toward his closet where he tossed his suit in.

you watched, very much not looking away this time, as he hurriedly grabbed a pair of plaid pajama pants.

he glanced back at you, feeling your eyes on him. "Turn around!"

you didn’t.

you just raised an eyebrow.

“Y/N.”

“Peter.”

“…Please.”

you hum as if in thought, but finally turned around, holding your hands up. “Fine. I’m being respectful. Look at me, respecting your privacy.”

“I don’t believe you,” he muttered, scrambling behind you.

you could hear the quick shuffle of fabric, the thump of him nearly tripping, a quiet “ow.. ” under his breath.

“…You okay?” you asked, trying not to laugh.

“I’m great,” he said, very obviously not great.

a few seconds later, “Okay. You can turn around.”

you did, he was in plaid pajama pants, a lightly wrinkled t-shirt and his hair was even messier.

“…Wow,” you said, looking at him like you were seeing him for the first time. “You clean up nice, Spider-Man.”

he groaned. “Please don’t call me that.”

“No promises.”

he moved to his desk, grabbing one of the web shooters. When he came back, his expression was serious, focused in a way you hadn’t seen before.

“Okay,” he said, gently taking your wrist. “Hand out.”

you obeyed immediately, he slid the web shooter onto your wrist, his fingers brushing your skin as he adjusted it. “It fits… okay, I think.”

your breath hitched just a little. “Feels… cool.”

“Don’t get used to it,” he said quickly, he lifted your hand slightly, guiding your fingers into position. “Alright. You press here, but only when you’re aiming. And you have to flick your wrist like this...”

his hand wrapped around yours to demonstrate, for a second, neither of you spoke. Then you whispered, “You’re, like… really good at this.”

he huffed softly. “I’d hope so.”

you glanced up at him, your faces closer than you realized.

“…Okay,” he said, clearing his throat. “Target. Uh.. chair. You said chair.”

you nodded, forcing yourself to drag your eyes away from him.

“On three,” he continued. “One… two…”

you didn’t wait for three.

thwip!

the web shot out, sticking perfectly to the chair across the room.

both of you froze, then your eyes went wide. “I DID IT?!”

peter stared at the web, then back at you. “…You actually did it.”

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

you were still buzzing.

like, actually buzzing, pacing a little, shaking out your hands like you’d just had ten cups of coffee.

“I can’t believe that worked,” you said for what had to be the fifth time, staring at the web still stuck to the chair. “I mean.. I can, because I did it but also, I can’t.”

peter leaned against his desk, arms crossed, trying very hard to look unimpressed.

“Beginner’s luck,” he said.

you spun toward him immediately. “Excuse me?!”

“I’m just saying,” he shrugged, failing to hide a small smile, “first try? Suspicious.”

you narrowed your eyes. “You’re jealous.”

“I am not jealous.”

“You are. You’ve been doing this for, what, months? Years? And I nailed it in one shot.”

“I was bitten by a radioactive spider,” he shot back. “You had a tutorial.”

“Still counts.”

he huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “Okay, well, tutorial’s over. Hand it back.”

you immediately clasped your hands behind your back. “No.”

peter blinked. “No?”

“One more.” “No.” “Peter.” “Y/N.”

“One more,” you repeated, stepping closer, your voice dropping just slightly.

he shook his head, but he didn’t step away. “I said one shot.”

“And I listened. I did everything right.”

“That doesn’t mean you get unlimited turns!”

“Not unlimited,” you said quickly. “Just… one more.”

“No.”

you tilted your head, studying him, before you stepped even closer, close enough that he had to look down just slightly to meet your eyes.

“…Are you really gonna take it away after I was that good?” you asked, softer now.

he hesitated again and you saw it again.

“Oh my god, you’re thinking about it,” you whispered, a grin tugging at your lips.

“I’m not...” “You are.” “I’m really not...”

“You are,” you insisted, gently catching his wrist. “Come on. I won’t mess it up. I promise.”

his gaze flicked down to where your hand was touching him, then back up to your face. “…One more,” he said finally, like it physically pained him. “And that’s it. Seriously.”

your face lit up instantly. “Yes!”

“I mean it.”

“I know, I know,” you said, already holding your arm out again.

he sighed, but stepped in, adjusting the web shooter back into place on your wrist. “Okay, same rules.”

“Same rules,” you echoed.

his fingers were slower this time, more careful, like he was suddenly very aware of every point of contact.

“Alright,” he said quietly. “Focus.”

you nodded, but your attention drifted the second he stepped in closer behind you, closer than before.

his arm came around yours again, guiding your aim.

“Target,” he murmured. “Desk.”

“Mhm.” “Wrist straight.” “Mhm.”

“Focus,” he murmured again.

you tried, you really did but it was a little hard when you could feel him this close.

“…Peter,” you said softly.

“Yeah?”

“I forgot what I was aiming at.”

he let out a quiet, breathy laugh. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Your fault,” you said. “You’re distracting.”

“I’m distracting?”

“You’re the one hovering.”

“I’m teaching!”

“Mhm.”

“…You gonna shoot?” he asked, voice quieter now.

“…Maybe,” you said, but you didn’t move your hand.

instead, you turned your head slightly.

he was right there.

close enough that your noses almost brushed.

his breath hitched and for a second, he didn’t move.

you glanced down at his lips before your eyes met his, watching him as he slowly leaned in, closing the gap.

the kiss was soft at first, a little tentative, like he was still catching up to what was happening but it didn’t stay that way for long.

his hand shifted slightly against your arm, steadying you as you kissed him back, the was kiss a little more sure this time, a little less hesitant.

the web shooter was completely forgotten.

when you finally pulled back, your lips still tingling, you smiled faintly. “…Okay,” you said softly.

he blinked. “Okay?”

you lifted your wrist up in front of you again, the web shooter still snug against your skin. “Now I can focus.”

it took him a second, then his eyes widened just a little. “Wait..”

thwip!

the web shot out clean and fast this time sticking to the edge of his desk with a soft tck.

you gasped, eyes lighting up all over again. “I DID IT AGAIN!” You laughed, pure excitement bubbling out of you as you grabbed his arm. “Twice! That’s not beginner’s luck anymore!”

“Okay, okay,” he laughed, shaking his head. “Maybe you’re a fast learner.”

“Maybe I’m just that good.”

the web hung forgotten across the room on the edge of his desk.

your hand slowly slipped from his arm to his hand instead, fingers brushing against his.

“…So,” you said, a small smile tugging at your lips, “does this mean I get promoted to… assistant Spider-Man?”

peter groaned, but didn’t let go of your hand. “Absolutely not.”

you grinned. “We’ll see."

[michaelsmelodie]

drabble. ꨄ︎. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝗎𝗌𝖻𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗀𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗌. fluff , 𝘀𝘂𝗴𝗴𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗲, 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀. 🪽 𝗺𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲 𝗵𝘂𝘀𝗯𝗮𝗻𝗱. 𝗺𝗶𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗲𝗹 𝗷𝗮𝗰𝗸𝘀𝗼𝗻 × 𝗳!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿. ˙𐃷˙ 𝙬𝙘. 𝟯𝟬𝟬. & nicknames. 𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗉𝗅𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝖼.

𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙙𝙞𝙚'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙨. ౨ৎ mature michael ouufff 👄👄 posting more ab him soon. cs this is lwk ass.. anyways lmk <3

𑣲. 1 AM - 2002

Michael hated wearing his glasses in public.

Said they made him look “old.” Or “strict.”

Which only made you love them more.“Baby, stop starin’ at me,” he mutters from beside you on the couch. You grin immediately. “Can’t help it.” Late night movies played softly in the background while you heard the rain tapped against the apartment windows. Michael sat comfortably beside you one arm stretched behind your shoulders, reading some ridiculous tabloid through his thin glasses.

And goodness... He looked devastating. “What are they saying now?” you ask, leaning against him, Michael snorts quietly while flipping the page. “Apparently I’m secretly livin’ in Switzerland with an alien wife.”

You gasp dramatically. “You didn’t tell me I was extraterrestrial.”

“Mhm.” He glances down at you over the rim of his glasses. “Thought you knew.” That look nearly kills you. “Oh Wow,” you whisper. “Do that again.”

“What?”

“The glasses thing.” Michael immediately gets shy, ducking his head slightly while smiling. “Baby…” He says shyly.

“Love, come on you look so handsome.”

“Oh do i?”

“No seriously, you look so hot.” Your fingers slide gently along his jaw. “It’s unfair.” Michael laughs softly under his breath while trying to keep reading the magazine.

Trying..

Because every few seconds you keep staring at him instead of the movie.

“You watchin’ me more than the film.”

“The Movie ain’t wearing glasses.” You said quickly. That finally breaks him, Michael folds forward laughing while you smile proudly against his shoulder. “You’re impossible, such a greedy girl huh.” he murmurs. “Yep.” Eventually he tosses the tabloid aside completely and turns toward you fully.

“C’mere then.” You melt instantly into his lap while Michael’s hands settles against your waist. The glasses are slightly crooked now from laughing too much.

So cute.

You kiss him first, Michael hums quietly against your mouth, smiling into the kiss while his fingers brush along your back beneath your shirt. “You know,” he murmurs between kisses, “you get real hungry when I wear these.”

“Because you look hot.” Michael actually chokes on a laugh. “Hot?”

“Yes.” You bite your lips. “In glasses?”

“Especially in glasses.” His cheeks turn hot. Still shy after all these years. You kiss him again before he can hide his face, fingers carefully adjusting the frames back up his nose. “There,” you whisper. “Perfect.”

Michael smiles softly against your lips. “Lovely,” he murmurs warmly, “you make me feel prettier than anybody ever has.”

© 𝙢𝙞𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙚𝙡𝙨𝙢𝙚𝙡𝙤𝙙𝙞𝙚