[dyingswanpavlova]

"Your girl" - Part 12 | The Salesman x Reader

Summary: Things have changed between you. But you can't even tell how much.

Warnings: dead dove do not eat, kidnapping, mentions of sexual abuse and other traumatic events in the past, numbness, helplessness, violence, threatening, mentions of blood, mentions of murder/gore/death, body issues, trauma talk, stockholm syndrome, forced relationship, unhealthy relationship, depression, manipulation and low self-esteem, mentions of sexual activities, loss of identity, mentions of pregnancy, not beta-read, if I've missed any warnings or tags please tell me! mdni 18+!

"Your girl" - The Salesman x Reader Masterlist

You couldn’t tell what caused his change of heart, but you surely wouldn’t complain. Or be the first one to speak. Maybe, just maybe, your pride wasn't all dead yet.

By the time the door was pulled open, you needed a moment for your eyes to adjust to the light that flooded the cramped space. Again, you couldn’t tell how long you had been in there. A few hours? A day? Longer?

All you knew was that you were starving and your bladder hurt like hell.

And somehow you didn’t care.

You didn’t care about anything actually.

The time you spent in the darkness of the wardrobe, pressed against the wall like a caged animal, had served you to think about the mess you found yourself in. A part of you was still relieved that he didn’t kill you. Another part was strangely disappointed, angry even, that he doubted you in the first place.

You didn’t try to leave. And he didn’t believe you.

But what took far more space up in your mind, was the memory of what you said to him.

I love you.

I love you?

Were you out of your goddamn mind?

Surely, it must have been some desperate attempt to manipulate him into caring, so that he would let go. Surely. Surely.

But a part of you knew that was not the truth.

He had his hands wrapped around your neck, ready to end your life then and there and all you cared to say was I love you?

You felt…betrayed. You had betrayed yourself yet again.

Didn’t you possess any semblance of dignity? Of self-worth? Of anything of which you thought that it made you you?

But before you had the time to get even angrier at yourself, he opened the door.

You blinked slowly and looked up at him. It wasn’t the prettiest sight for sure. Your eyes were red and swollen, your face puffy. Dark marks in the form on his slender fingers decorated your neck. A constant reminder of the pain you were in, the danger. Your body was covered in marks and bruises. Like you were a blank canvas and he was a cruel, deranged artist.

You looked at him, but he didn’t look at you. He didn’t even say anything. All he did was stand there, his hand clutching the door handle tightly. You could tell he was still tense, still furious to some degree. This was far from over.

A stronger version of yourself would have tried to talk to him. To convince him. To beg him to believe you, because it was the fucking truth.

You didn’t try to leave. How could he not see it?

But instead, you carefully got to your feet. Your legs felt weak and shaky, from sitting in your kneeling position for so long. You held onto the wall and slowly stumbled out, into your room. Nothing had changed. A look out of the useless window showed you that it was getting dark outside. A day, then. It had been a day.

You sighed very softly and ran your fingers through the knots in your hair. All you wanted was a bath and a good night’s sleep. But you knew that was probably a very distant thought. Something had shifted between you, you could tell.

You didn’t get to tease him anymore, he wasn’t going to read to you either. You were back to playing games and walking on eggshells. You were back in the fangs of the evil twin.

As if to prove his point, he led you out of your room and into the bathroom, his hand hovering above the small of your back, but not quite touching you.

And then your biggest nightmare.

There was no fucking door.

Your eyes widened and your lips parted in a horrified, and yet oh-so exhausted, gasp. A part of you wanted to beg, still. At least for a tiny bit of dignity. The tiniest bit of being allowed to feel like a human being. But no. That was not what you were, right?

When he pointed to the chair in the middle of the room, you knew you weren’t human anymore.

You were a godforsaken Young-hee doll.

You looked up at him with pleading eyes, despite yourself. Despite the tiny, defiant gleam in your chest. But he still wasn’t looking at you. And suddenly you knew no amount of pleading would ever help you anyway.

You wanted to cry. You really did. But at some point in the wardrobe you had your tears run dry and they hadn’t returned ever since. There was only so much a person could cry, right?

With slow, hesitant steps you finally found your place on the chair. Your eyes were fixed on the hole in the wall where once the door had been. You asked yourself what gracious surprises were there more, waiting for you, waiting to be discovered and dreaded.

When he took your wrists in his hand and tied them together with a tight knot in a tie of his, you didn’t protest. All you did was stare straight ahead.

He needed to do this. He needed to prove to you, to himself maybe, that you were nothing. Just like he had said to you, right before you straddled him and took control of the situation in the morning. You were nothing.

Nothing, nothing, nothing at all.

But his hands were gentle. He wasn’t being cruel or forceful about it. You couldn’t tell if that was, because you were being so compliant or if there was another reason. Whatever it was, he was really gentle. Almost ridiculously so.

When you saw him reach for the pair of scissors, you closed your eyes. You really didn’t want to see it. See, what amount of hair would have to go today. In his eyes, you had tried to escape, right? But as much as you tried to tell yourself that, you were sure, he was punishing you for something else. You just couldn’t tell what it was.

“No.” He said quietly. “Open your eyes.”

Despite the way your body begged you to keep your eyes shut, you reluctantly opened them. Of course. Right in front of the fucking mirror. A crazy man and his clueless victim.

If only you had fled.

Why didn’t you? You couldn’t stop asking yourself. Why didn’t you?

And he still wasn’t looking at you.

That was probably the worst part. You felt you were in so much pain, so much horror and he couldn’t even bring himself to look at you? Was this part of the punishment?

You looked up at his face, your expression a mixture of desperation and pleading. And anger. But he never looked up. Never met your gaze. And still, you were sure, he saw you.

He kept his jaw clenched, his fingers clutching the scissors tightly.

Maybe he wasn’t even going to cut it off. Maybe he’d stab and cut you to death. Watch you bleed for his own entertainment and amusement. Maybe this was all you were to him. A cheap entertainment.

He didn’t care about your trauma, did he? Back when you told him about it. Back when you felt you nearly died, talking about it. Back then, you believed it was for some greater cause. To be his. To be free. To be at all.

Now you were sure it was all for nothing.

He took a slow breath, as if to steel himself, but then he didn’t hesitate. The sound and sight of your hair being cut off was like the final blow to your chest you needed to lose yourself entirely.

Again, he didn’t cut off an atrocious amount. You didn’t look like the scary doll yet.

But this time, he cut off double the amount he did last time. And that was nearly a third of your hair.

A few moments ago, you had been so sure that all your tears had dried out, but now you were certain they had not. The slight quiver of your lip was the warning of what was to come, right before your vision was blurred by tears. Your shoulders and your hands were shaking by the sheer pressure you applied on yourself in order not to sob.

He felt it. He wasn’t an idiot. Of course he felt it. But he still didn’t look at you.

And yet, for the tiniest, briefest moment, you were sure, you saw him hesitate.

But that didn’t stop him. He kept cutting the strands precisely and carefully, with a gentleness that was almost mocking you.

He didn’t stop until your hair decorated the floor like a silky carpet. And you felt something inside of you break. It didn’t come at once. It came slowly and stealthily. But you could practically watch in the mirror as the gleam in your eyes faded.

Who were you now? Hana, maybe?

His girl? No. The thought made your stomach churn.

His captive. You were his captive. No more and no less.

And you were sure, that was exactly what he felt as well.

The next few days passed in silence. Neither of you spoke a word to each other. He didn’t yell at you or order you around. You got to sleep in your own bed and he didn’t even try once to approach you. It was a quiet co-existence. You barely spent any time in the same room, unless it was to eat. And even then, most times he had the decency to inform you of the fact that the food was ready and then he’d leave you to it.

He'd go to work in the afternoons and come back in the middle of the night, like he usually did. He only subtly checked out if you were still there.

As if you could just go anywhere else.

But he didn’t speak.

And Hell, you were sure, you weren’t ever going to say another word to him.

The only thing that did change were the missing doors. There were no doors, except for the front door and the one in his bedroom. Of course he got to keep his fucking door. After all, it wasn’t him who got punished.

Despite it all, you found yourself longing. Thinking back to the times you had slept in his bed, felt his breath tickle your neck. The way his arms wrapped around you from behind protectively and pulled you closer to him. The way he kissed your forehead and called you sweetness.

And despite yourself, you were desperate to feel him again. Never in your life before had you ever felt this lonely. So touch-starved. So needy to be with another person. To be with him.

But you knew that was not an option. You had no idea what the situation between you was. You just knew that you hated him.

You hated him for almost killing you, for cutting off your hair. For removing all the doors and for ignoring you.

But you hated him the most, because he didn’t believe you, when you said you didn’t try to leave.

You would have understood his need to punish you, if you truly tried to leave. After all, yes, he informed you of the consequences, right? But, for God’s sake, you didn’t try to leave.

Maybe he was punishing you for the man and the way he looked at you. Like you were some beaten puppy. He had to kill him, right? If he didn’t, you were sure, the police would have flooded the apartment within the next hour.

You almost understood his motives.

And that was what scared you the most.

You tossed and turned that night, unable to find a wink of sleep. He came home later than usual and you found yourself worrying. Had something happened? Or did he finally decide to abandon you?

Maybe he’d come back when he was sure there was no more left of you than a corpse, starved to death. Or maybe he wouldn’t ever come back.

Maybe he found another obsession.

With an annoyed sigh you turned on your back and kicked the blanket away. The jealousy almost ate you up. You ran your hands through your hair and paused when you felt how it was shorter than before. Every time you felt that, you took a moment to remember it. That horrible day. It had taken so much from you. All you actually wanted was to go back in time and for things to be the way they were before. Not before he abducted you. Before that fight, before that scene. Back when he called you my love.

You sighed again and sat up in frustration. The moment you heard the door open, you exhaled in relief. He hadn’t abandoned you. And you felt bad for even thinking he would. But was it truly that unlikely?

You listened to the sounds of him coming back and going about his nightly routine. Everything stayed the same. You heard it all the better, since you had no damn door. You groaned and buried your face in the pillow. He wouldn’t approach you. He hadn’t done so in days.

He wouldn’t hold you. Wouldn’t kiss you. He was no more than a ghost in your book. Or maybe you were the ghost. You had no past, no family, nothing. All you had was him and even that seemed pretty uncertain for now.

You squeezed your eyes shut and hoped you would eventually find some sleep. The sounds of his footsteps and the microwave were like a soothing lullaby and soon you were slowly drifting off to sleep. Exhaustion got the better of you, though you didn’t really understand what exhausted you so. All you did was wander these halls, eat, sleep and read a few pages of a book every now and then.

God, your days were so empty without him.

You would have even preferred to play one of his crazy mind games. Yes, you’d even prefer him to get physical with you. At least that would have required some kind of intimacy. A slap sounded just delightful in that moment. At least he’d touch you then. Look at you. And speak to you.

You were already half-asleep, so you didn’t really hear when his footsteps approached your room. Or maybe, if you heard, you told yourself it was wishful thinking. After all, why would he come here? It was the middle of the night and you were still firmly ignoring each other. Maybe it was better that way. That way you didn’t get the chance to anger him further. Maybe that way, you’d get to keep some of your hair.

No. He had no reason to come close. But he still did.

He stood in the doorway of your room, where once a door had been and leaned against the frame. His arms were crossed and he stared down at your unmoving form. He didn’t make a sound as he stood there. A small frown on his face revealed how thoughtful he truly was and how hard it was for him to hold back. There was obviously something he wanted.

You, probably.

None of this. Whenever you were in the same room, he had this cold, this calm and collected air around him, like he truly didn’t need you. Which he obviously didn’t. After all, he almost killed you.

But in that moment he had trouble hiding it. And he was probably grateful that you didn’t sense his presence behind you. He did that sometimes. He used these soft and peaceful moments to watch over you and make sure you were still there. After all, you didn’t speak. He had to make sure that you were still well and alive somehow.

But that night was different. That night the pull was far more intense than it usually was. He sighed very softly and looked down at the blister in his hand. Only four were missing. Four of twenty-eight tiny pills.

Four days in which you took the active decision against whatever the hell that was between you. It was essential to keep consequences out of the way.

But only for four days. And now, it was the eleventh day, but only four were missing. He stared down firmly at it, before he took a step closer and carefully placed the blister down on your nightstand. With another slow step he took, he hovered right above you. You looked so incredibly peaceful. He tilted his head to the side and watched you with the same, thoughtful frown. With a slow breath that he released, he reached out a hand. It hovered right above your face, his knuckles ready to push your hair back and caress your cheek. You were still so beautiful. He knew the hair had probably broken your heart. He had seen the look in your eyes, the silent tears and the way you struggled to look at him ever since. But couldn’t you see that you were still so incredibly beautiful, so exquisite? That no amount of hair lost, that no scar or mark could ever corrupt your undying beauty?

His frown deepened. And after a breath, he pulled his hand away.

He was already about to pull back and leave, when you shifted. You were obviously deep asleep, mumbling to yourself and sighing against the pillow. Your shirt rode up the tiniest bit and it revealed the skin of your waist. He clenched his jaw. Of course he felt the familiar feeling of desire stir in the pit of his stomach. But, no. Not like this. Not ever.

Not, when you couldn’t even look at him.

The sight of your waist also stirred something else in him. The indescribable urge to murder. To murder the man who once murdered your innocence. What a coward he was. To die, before he got to put his hands on him. Gutless.

He reached for the blanket, ready to wrap it around you, when his gaze wandered to your stomach for a moment. Another feeling took hold of him, far more intense than any carnal desire ever could.

His frown deepened even more and he reached out a hand, but this time he didn’t hesitate to touch you. His fingers rested on the soft, sensitive skin of your belly. You stirred, but only for a short moment. He wasn’t afraid you’d wake up. His thoughts were running rampage and he was too focused on the image in his head. The soft curve of your belly, the life that would possibly grow inside you one day. His life. His flesh and blood.

His.

Maybe it was already there. Who could tell? He had only then found the blister. But you seemed to know for what were seven days now.

His frown didn’t falter as his gaze wandered up and down your form. He exhaled a soft sigh and tilted his head down, resting his forehead against your back. He closed his eyes and bit his lip to keep himself from doing anything more.

You hadn’t spoken in days. He couldn’t just wake you up and demand whatever the hell. Even he knew that. But he still had to hold himself back forcefully. The feel of you, the smell of your skin, it drove him wild.

He hummed softly and leaned closer, close enough to press a soft, lingering kiss against the bare skin of your belly. You stirred again and mumbled something inaudible. He took it that was his cue to leave. With a soft sigh he got up and made his way back to the doorframe. He looked back at you once more, before he left the room.

Only four days. Huh.

You truly were his girl.

_______________________________

Tag list 1:

@mitsuki-dreamfree @kpopsmutty69 @heroine-chique @vkeyy @mizuwki @blu-brrys @z0mbi345 @yourpointbreak @ayieayee @freddyzeppsworld @lola11111111 @indifitel6661 @salesmanlover08 @laurenbenoit70 @lalalaa2210 @lila-marshal @auspicious-lilana @0-aubrie0 @lovelyaegyo @theredvelvetbitch @violentbluess @muriels-lover @dorayakissu @eviebuggg @muchwita @ririgy @strxlemon @obsessedwthdilfs @kiwilov3 @misty-q

Thank you @muriels-lover for the lovely request! I loved it so much and I hope it's approximately the thing you had in mind! And also, I have your other request in the back of my mind still, don't worry, I loved that one as well!

I love you all! SO much! And I'm still working on answering all your sweet messages (which continue making me tear up, in case you didn't know!)

[greenandsorrow]

작은 빨간 모자 ~

🩸 Little Red Riding Hood 🩸

🥀 the Salesman/the Recruiter x fem!virgin!reader

Inspired by Aeseaes' cover of Sam the Sham and the Pharaohs' "Little Red Riding Hood".

Warnings: explicit/dark/adult content, no use of y/n, hunter x prey, low-key haters to lovers, mention of blood, bodily fluids, loss of virginity, emotional manipulation, possessiveness, protectiveness, sub!reader, penetrative and oral sex, unprotected sex, creampie, age gap, public setting, voyeurism, slight dacryphilia, corruption kink, consensual chaos, non-canon, made-up game, corn with plot, smut with emotion, the format is just me experimenting, my first time writing a yandere dynamic, angst, fluff, I spontaneously wrote this at 5 am so I wasn't going for perfection

The woods are alive.

Somewhere in the distance, a clock is chiming -a reminder that time is slipping through your fingers.

The game is simple: make it to the cabin alive. But no one said anything about him.

The woods are a labyrinth.

The shadows are shifting like ghosts under the moonlight.

Your lungs burn as you sprint through bushes and wild weeds. Your heart hammers painfully against your ribs each time you stumble on some gnarled root and almost fall down. Somewhere behind you, you can hear him -footsteps slow and deliberate, a predator savoring his hunt.

Hey there, little red riding hood. You sure are looking good. You're everything a big bad wolf could want...

The forest looms in every direction, vast and seemingly unending, a maze designed to disorient and devour you. You can faintly smell the sea, the only giveaway that you could, perhaps, be on an island. The red of your cape stands out against the darkness, making you an easy target.

He's here, always just behind you, close enough that his presence prickles across your skin.

"Hey there, little red", he finally speaks, voice velvety -but also mocking. You inwardly curse yourself, because your stomach doesn't twist only with fear. "You sure are looking good tonight."

Halting your sprint, your breath hitches as you turn around only to find him leaning against a tree, silhouette sharp and predatory in the dim light.

"You brought me here!" you shout, the words trembling with fury and betrayal. "You- you're the reason I'm in this nightmare!"

The Salesman steps closer, unhurried, his eyes gleaming with something dark and primal. His smirk is maddening, as if your accusation is just a game to him -one he's already won.

"You're right" he answers rather smoothly, each word dripping with false apology. "I sold you the ticket. But you're the one who took it, little red."

His gaze sweeps over you, lingering on the sweat-slicked curve of your throat and on the heaving rise and fall of your chest.

"And look at you now" he murmurs, his voice softening. "You're breathtaking when you're afraid."

You've started taking steps backwards. Your back presses against a tree as you try to catch your breath. Your clothes are clinging to your skin, your trembling fingers grasping at the zipper as if it, alone, can pull you together.

The Salesman steps in the narrow, moonlit trail, his presence overwhelming. His suit is immaculate, not a molecule of dirt on the expensive fabric. His smile -sharp, knowing, predatory- makes your heart lurch.

"You're running out of time, little one" he warns you, his dark eyes raking over your frame. "And you've caught my attention. This is a game you can't win alone."

"Stay away from me" you snap. But he doesn't listen.

"I can't" he tone more hoarse. "You don't understand, do you?"

His hand slams against the tree behind you and you flinch, your heart fluttering in your ribcage like a trapped bird.

"You haunt me" he blurts, tone raw with something you can't name. "Every time I close my eyes, I see you. I even smell you, dammit. You've driven me mad."

You swallow hard, your throat dry. "Then why did you bring me here?"

His jaw tightens and for the first time, the mask of control cracks.

"Because I couldn't do any differently. I was supposed to bring you here. But... I didn't know it would feel like this."

His gaze burns into yours -wild and consuming- and for a moment, the forest, the game, everything else melts away.

Little red riding hood, I don't think little big girls should go walking in these spooky old woods alone...

"You want me dead!" you say once you snap out of whatever trance you had gotten in, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and despair. "That's what this is, isn't it? Another game to watch me suffer?!"

His hand gently grabs your chin, tilting your face up so you have no choice but to look at him. "No" he growls, the word harsh and final. "I don't want you dead. I want you to live."

"You're lying" you choke out, your anger warring with the traitorous heat building between you. "You're a monster."

The Salesman's lips part like the word cut him. "I can't change what I've done, little red. But I can try. For you."

His thumb brushes over your lower lip and his expression twists into something almost painful. "But you make it so hard" he murmurs. "You make me want things I shouldn't. You make me weak."

The tears that have been burning your eyes finally spill over... and his thumb catches one, smearing it across your cheek.

"You're cruel" you utter softly.

"And you're perfect" he shoots back, his voice cracking like a badly tuned guitar. "So perfect it's killing me."

The sound of the clock echoing through the stillness and quiet of the night gets your attention. You have to move forward, have to locate the cabin before daylight.

The path stretches ahead, dark and winding. Simultaneously, his presence continues to loom behind you like some unbearable weight. You walk fast, your legs burning, but he keeps walking with you. When he grabs you by the shoulder, it isn't out of violence but out of desperation.

His arms wrap around you, pinning you to his firm chest as he buries his face in your hair.

"You really don't understand" he rasps. "I don't care who wins this game. I don't care about the money, or the rules, or any of it. I just need you to make it to the cabin."

His grip tightens, his hands trembling against you. "If you die, I swear I'll burn this whole place to the ground."

What big eyes you have. The kind of eyes that drive wolves mad. Just to see that you don't get chased, I think I ought to walk with you for a ways...

When he moves again, it's like a shadow, too quick for your eyes to follow. One moment, you are standing on the path... The next, he is pushing you back, his hand braced against the tree you're now up against.

His eyes lock onto yours and the intensity in them is enough to make you shiver.

"You're squirming." His voice is laced with mockery, though his gaze betrays his hunger. "Are you afraid of me?"

You want to say yes, to push him away, to fight back -but your body has other plans. The heat in his eyes and the way his lips quirk into that knowing smirk send a flush creeping up your neck.

"I can almost smell it on you" he continues, voice dropping an octave as his fingers brush along the edge of your jacket. "The innocence. The fear. You've never been touched, have you, little red?"

Your breath hitches audibly and his smirk deepens. His hand slips to your zipper, dragging it down inch by agonizing inch and sliding the jacket off your shoulders. Then, he takes off your t-shirt, pulling it over your head with an ease that makes your knees feel all wobbly.

The action is almost symbolic. Right now, you're not Player XXX. The burden of that number has been lifted. By him.

The cool air hits your bare skin, followed by the warmth of his large palm as he presses it flat against your stomach...

"You'll be perfect" he whispers, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. "All mine."

What full lips you have. They're sure to lure someone bad. Until you get to grandma's place, I think you ought to walk with me and be safe...

His mouth finds yours in an instant and it is nothing like the soft, hesitant kisses you imagined. It's raw and consuming, his lips claiming yours with a hunger that leaves you breathless. His tongue teases your lower lip, wanting you to open for him... and when you do, he groans into the kiss, needy and satisfied.

His hands roam over your body, exploring every curve, every inch of newly bared skin. When his fingers graze the waistband of your panties, you gasp, breaking the kiss.

"Shh..."

Hot lips trail down your neck, leaving a burning path in their wake. "Let me take care of you."

You whimper as his fingers slide lower, slipping beneath the thin fabric. His touch is slow, reverent, as if he is savoring every little reaction -the way your breath hitches and the way your thighs tremble as he finds your sensitive bundle of nerves.

"So wet" he growls, his voice heavy with desire. "I wanted you to want this... And how you do, little one. You- you impress me."

You shift closer to him, using his much larger frame to shield yourself from the cool night air. He gives you a smile, seemingly pleased, but even as he does so, his hands don't stop touching you -tracing the curve of your breast, your hip, your thighs.

"I'm starving for you" he confesses, his lips ghosting over your collarbone, your jaw, your half open mouth. "Do you feel it? Do you feel what you've done to me?"

You nod shakily, your fingers clutching at his suit, overwhelmed by what is happening.

"You can hate me for coming to see you here," he says roughly as his fingers find the slick, untouched heat between your thighs again.

"But maybe," he continues, his lips brushing your earlobe, "you'll see things my way before we get to the cabin."

You open your mouth to protest, but the words die on your tongue as he slips a long digit inside you. Your pussy clenches around him -tight and unyielding- and he groans, the sound low and desperate.

"Fuck" he rasps.

"You're so tight." His voice cracks with something between reverence and despair -almost concerned he won't fit. "You've never been penetrated at all, have you?"

You shake your head, a moan escaping you when he begins to move, and then when he adds a second finger, moving them slowly, stretching you, coaxing you open for him.

Gonna keep my sheep suit on,'til I'm sure that you've been shown that I can be trusted walking with you alone...

His lips make contact with your temple, the touch so soft, so fleeting. "Let me try", his free hand slides down to rest against the hollow of your throat, where your pulse roars beneath his fingertips. "Let me prove I'm not here to hurt you."

When he lowers himself on his knees, the sight alone is enough to make your head spin. His strong hands grip your thighs, pulling you toward him as he presses a kiss to your inner thigh.

"You smell like heaven" he says, almost teasing you. "And I'm going to devour you."

His tongue latches on your folds and the sensation is so overwhelming -wet, hot and utterly consuming. You cry out, your hands tangling in his dark locks as he works you over with a practiced precision. Every stroke of his tongue, every gentle scrape of his teeth, sends a jolt of pleasure through you, building and building until you think you might shatter.

He lives for the sounds you make for him. The mewls, the moans and the pathetic whimpers... Let alone how the tags you give his hair send shockwaves straight to his loins.

When he finally rises, his eyes are wild, his lips glistening with your juices. He undoes his belt, letting the tension build as he takes his time.

He unzips his slacks with the same deliberate slowness, as if making sure he captures every little thing with his mind's eye, to remember it afterwards.

What a big heart I have. The better to love you with. Little red riding hood, even bad wolves can be good...

When he frees himself, the mere sight of him makes you short circuit. The size, the way it throbs with need and the raw hunger in his eyes as he watches you take him in... You've never seen a man like this, let alone touch one and the sheer weight of the moment sends a flush to your cheeks -red riding hood for sure now.

Part of you wants to look away, but you simply can't. More heat pools low in your belly, a mix of curiosity, fear... and undeniable arousal leaving you reeling.

He grips himself, stroking lazily as if to show you. "This is what you do to me" he murmurs, his gaze holding yours like a hostage.

All you can do is swallow hard, your thighs pressing together as a deep ache blooms within you.

Your gaze flickers nervously between his face and the hard length in his hand -stomach churning with a mix of hesitation and that primal curiosity.

He is thick, the kind of girth that would make anyone stutter, the veins prominent along the shaft, pulsing faintly under his slow strokes. The head is a deep shade of pink that glistens slightly. You can't help but wonder how it'd feel in your hand, or in your mouth, even as the thought sends a wave of embarrassment rushing through you.

Your fingers twitch at your sides, a silent betrayal of your restraint. He notices -of course he does. His gaze is sharp, like a predator catching the subtlest sign of his prey.

"Go ahead" he encourages, voice low and inviting.

"Touch me."

Your hand moves before your mind can catch up, shaking as you reach out. When your fingers finally brush against him, he exhales sharply, his cock twitching under your tentative touch. It's hot, smooth yet firm beneath your palm and the weight of it makes your cheeks burn.

You glance up at him, unsure, but the look on his face -part restraint, part unfiltered need- makes something inside you snap. You want to know more, to feel more, and the sudden boldness startles you almost as much as it does him.

His breath hitches audibly the moment your fingers wrap around him, his hips jerking forward almost on reflex. "Fuck" he hisses and his hand shoots out to grip your wrist -not to stop you, but to guide you, as though he can't bear it if you fumble.

Every little shift of your touch draws a new sound from him, low groans that reverberate through the air.

"Just like that", his jaw clenches tightly, holding himself back. His head tips back slightly, exposing the line of his throat, his Adam's apple bobbing.

His grip on your wrist loosens as you grow more confident, your hand sliding along his length in slow, experimental strokes. The way he twitches in your grasp is sending thrills of power through you -this man, so composed and intelligent, is unraveling under your touch. His lips part, a string of curses tumbling out... and his eyes, half-lidded with lust, find yours again.

"You don't know what you're doing to me. Not the extent of it." He moans, his voice thick with desire.

He stares down at you like you're something he can't live without. "You're driving me insane."

His hand moves from your wrist to your shoulder, fingers curling, anchoring himself, desperate to keep from losing control. You can feel the tension radiating off him, every muscle in his body coiled tight as if it takes everything he has not to push you further, faster.

"Your hand is so... soft" he groans, voice breaking as your thumb brushes experimentally over the swollen head, smearing the bead of precum there. His reaction is immediate -a sharp inhale through his teeth and hips jerking involuntarily.

"Keep going-" his voice is a low plea now, though his body tells you he's already on the edge, trembling under your touch like a taut bowstring. His grip on your shoulder tightens and he leans forward. "Do you even know how long I've wanted this?"

The admission makes your heart race, the weight of his hunger pressing down on you like a physical force. His eyes lock onto yours again -blown wide with lust- and his mouth falls open as another ragged groan escapes him.

"Fuck, sweetheart" he mutters, his tone barely coherent, his restraint unraveling with every deliberate stroke of your hand. "You're destroying me..."

When his forehead drops to your shoulder, his breath hot against your neck, you feel it -a shudder rolling through him, his entire body quivering as he fights not to cum.

Your gaze drops down to the weight of him and curiosity burns way hotter than your initial nervousness.

Tentatively, your free hand moves lower, fingers brushing against the fullness of his balls. His reaction is visceral -a strangled groan tearing from his throat as his hips buck forward.

The Salesman's hand flies to your wrist again, but he still doesn't pull you away. Instead, he shows you how to cup him, how to roll the sensitive flesh between your fingers.

"There- fuck, just like that" he says desperately.

The atmosphere feels electric and for the first time, you find the courage to speak.

"I'm ready" you whisper, your voice shaking, but the conviction in your words is undeniable. His eyes snap open at your admission, the hunger in them blazing even brighter. For a moment, he just stares at you, as though trying to convince himself he heard you right.

"Are you sure?" he rasps, voice strained, his hands trembling where they rest on your waist. His self-control is slipping away more and more, the tension in his body coiled so tight it's a miracle he hasn't already taken you, but still, he waits, giving you the chance to pull away.

"I want this" you muster, cheeks flushing crimson as your gaze drops shyly. "I want you."

A low growl rumbles from his chest, his hand lifting to cradle your face, tilting it up until your eyes meet.

"There will be no going back" he whispers, his voice thick with desire... and something dangerously close to guilt. "Once we start, I won't be able to stop. You-" his voice cuts off while his thumb brushes tenderly over your cheek. "You deserve more than this. More than giving your innocence away in the darkness of the woods, propped up against a tree trunk."

But your hands, shaky yet determined, slide up his shoulders, grounding him from whatever delirioussness has gotten into him.

"I want you" you repeat, more firmly, your lips brushing against his jaw as you lean in, sealing your decision. "Please. Please have me."

Whatever superhuman restraint he's been clinging to, snaps. With a deep groan, he surges forward, capturing your mouth in another searing kiss, his hands gripping your hips, kneeding the flesh there.

"I will be gentle" he reassures you, speaking against your lips. "I'll take good care of you."

Still, the way he presses against you, tells you just how much he's holding back -for you, for your sake.

"And you'll only ever be mine" he says, his voice low and possessive as he guides himself to your entrance. "No one else will ever touch you like this."

He lines himself up with you, his hand stroking soothing circles along your thigh as he pushes forward, the pressure building steadily until the head of his cock breaches your entrance. A sharp sting blooms as he stretches you open, your body unused to the intrusion.

You can't hold back the whimper that escapes your lips at the new sensation. He freezes immediately, his forehead creasing with concern.

"Just breathe. I'll go slow."

You nod -trusting him- and he resumes his careful movements, inch by inch. The sting gives way to a deep, aching fullness and though it is overwhelming, it isn't unwelcome.

The stretch only gets more intense, the burn almost too much, but he is patient, giving you time to adjust. His forehead presses against yours as he sinks into you a little more, his breaths ragged -almost like he's sharing in your pain.

His hands tremble as they run over your body frantically, his lips trailing soft kisses down your neck and across your collarbone.

When he shifts, it's to guide you to lay back on the forest floor, using his suit jacket to cover the damp grass bellow.

His frame is hovering over you now and you let out a little moan.

"You'll tell me if it's too much..." Even though his voice is husky, it's also laced with care, his forehead pressing into yours again. He seems to like the closeness this gesture provides.

"I will" you gasp.

Your body is already arching into his, silently pleading for more.

"So tight" he groans, his jaw clenched as though holding himself back is pure agony. "You feel… Ah, you feel perfect."

When he's fully seated, his hips flush against yours, he stills again, his whole body trembling above you.

A faint sting remains and you can feel the faint, sticky warmth of blood, but it's overpowered by the way he fills you completely, as though he is made to be inside you.

"You okay?" he murmurs, kissing your temple.

"Y- yes" you breath, a soft moan escaping as you shift experimentally. "You can move."

He obeys, drawing back slowly before pushing in again, the movement of his cock against your walls igniting something primal inside you. You're opening up to him after all.

His head falls on your shoulder. "I'll ruin you, but I will never let anyone else have you."

Each thrust is measured and cautious at first, but it's not long before his restraint begins to fray completely. His movements quicken, his hips snapping into yours... and every ragged moan and growl he lets out makes the coil in your belly tighten.

"I can't look away" he pants, his eyes locked on where your bodies join. "You're taking me so well... It's beautiful..."

Your nails dig into his back as your own pleasure builds up to a breaking point -your moans growing more incoherent and high-pitched with each thrust. The forest around you seems to fade, the world narrowing down to just the two of you, the wet sound of your bodies meeting and the rasp of his breath in your ear.

When you climax, your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, your body arching into his as you cry out in ecstasy.

He isn't far behind, if anything, he was holding back his load, wanting you to finish first.

His thrusts grow more erratic than before.

Suddenly, he buries himself as deep as he can, a guttural half-moan, half-groan ripping from his chest as he spills inside you. The warmth of his release floods you and he stills, blissed out and tangled up with you.

He stays there, still buried inside you, his forehead resting against yours as his hand cups your cheek. "You're mine now" he declares, but there's a softness in his eyes that belies the ferocity of his words. "And I don't let what's mine slip away."

Little red riding hood, I'd like to hold you if I could, but you might think I'm a big bad wolf, so I won't...

When he sits up a little, his eyes rove over your spent body, drinking you in, lingering too long on the curve of your hips, the flush of your stomach, the trembling rise of your chest.

He gasps when he pulls out his barely softening member, covered in both of your releases and your virgin blood.

The air is heavy with the scent of pine, earth ...and what you have just done. Your body aches in unfamiliar places and you continue feeling exposed even after you pull your clothes back on.

"Mine" he repeats and kisses you. "You'll always be mine."

It's almost like he says it in order to soothe himself more than convince you. Almost like he can't believe you wanted him to be your first. Almost like this is a dream, too good, too pure, too tender to be part of his reality.

I'll try to keep satisfied, just to walk by your side. Maybe you'll see things my way before we get to grandma's place...

As you both stumble through the dense, dark green, his hand -large, warm and steady- wraps around yours.

"Why are you still here?" you snap, glancing over your shoulder.

You sigh and yank his hand away -even though part of you was comforted by it.

"To keep you alive" he replies simply.

You still don't trust him fully, not even after what you did, yet his presence alone is oddly reassuring. When your steps falter on the uneven ground, his hand is here to steady you. When you hesitate at the edge of a stream, he crosses first, testing the stability of the rocks.

After some minutes of silent walking, you stop in your tracks, your fists clenching. "This is insane! You can't possibly care if I make it to the cabin. You only care about yourself. And now, you have taken what you wanted."

He steps closer, the moonlight casting sharp shadows on his handsome face. "Maybe that was the case at first" he admits, his voice low. "But things change. You changed me."

"You think I'll forgive you for recruiting me?! That I'll see things your way, just because you're helping me now?"

His lips curve into a faint, humorless smile.

"No" he begins. "I do not expect you to forgive me. But maybe, you'll finally understand."

"Why?" you demand, your anger bubbling to the surface. "Why me? Why bring me into this hell?!"

His expression darkens, his brown eyes impenetrable in the dim light. "I was obligated to recruit you, as I've already said."

You scoff.

"You're everything I shouldn't want."

You try your best to not react to that statement.

The cabin can now be seen in the distance.

"You made it", his voice is soft and filled with unspoken pride.

His fingers find yours again, tightening their grip immediately, pulling you closer as you near your destination.

"You're stronger than you think, Red."

There is something really tender in his tone, something almost protective, as though he wants to shield you from everything that awaits inside the cabin and then forward.

You don't respond at first, your mind still reeling from the chaos, the tension, the fire between you. His touch has been both a curse and a lifeline, his hunger for you undeniable, but his promise now feels like something more... something real.

Little red riding hood, you sure are looking good. You're everything a big bad wolf could want...

When the door finally creaks open, the warmth inside the cabin wraps around you like a comfort you didn't realize you needed. The rustic furniture, the faint smell of pine wood burning, it all feels like a world away from the horrors you have faced so far.

You're the first to have made it. Even before sunrise... And you are accurately aware that it's because of him.

He closes the door behind you, his back leaning against it as his eyes study you, dark with something more than desire.

"I know what you're thinking" he starts. "You think this is just part of the game, don't you? But I can assure you it's not."

Your heart skips a beat at the sincerity of his words "What do you mean?" you ask quietly, eyes wide and uncertain.

"I'm getting you out of here" he promises, tone filled with unshakeable resolve. "I don't care about the rest of them, little one. I care about you."

Walking up to you, he reaches for the column of your neck, his thumb gently caressing the soft skin there... For the first time, there is no manipulation in his touch -just raw, honest tenderness.

You feel your heart flutter, the truth in his words sinking in as you look up at him.

The man who has played the villain, the one who has pushed you into this game, is now the same man promising to protect you, to pull you out of it. His eyes soften as he stares down at you, his hand now resting on your waist as he pulls you gently into his arms.

"You'll get through this, saranghae. You have to." he murmurs, his lips brushing against your hairline, inhaling your natural scent. "And I'll make sure you do. Just trust me."

His embrace tightens around you.

And for the first time since you have arrived on the island, you feel safe.

When he finally lets you go -your lips swollen and your innocence irrevocably marked-, you're full of a new kind of motivation to survive.

His final words stay with you as he exits the cabin.

"Keep running, little red riding hood."

Thank you so much for reading ❣️

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~ masterlist ~

[greenandsorrow]

Looking forward to writing for this lovely psychopath again!

[thyfairmaiden]

Pray for me

Pairing ✵ Gwayne Hightower/Niece!reader

Warnings ✵ Hotd season 2 spoilers, incest, littleee bit of crybaby!reader, smut (frottage, oral F receiving, fingering, and slight dacryphilia), and religious themes

Word count ✵ 2.5k

Summary ✵ Your uncle Gwayne arrives from Oldtown at your brother's call, and pays a visit to you while you pray.

"Your mother told me I might find you in here,"

You whipped your head around to see the source of the voice that disturbed you from your prayers and saw none other than your uncle, Ser Gwayne Hightower. He had finally come from Oldtown, answering your brother's call for assistance in his war.

"It is the seventh day, I thought I ought to pray. Especially now..." You explain with a small smile. You stood from your kneeling position on the cold, unyielding sept floor so you may look upon him. Your face twists into a cringe as you feel the bruises from kneeling for so long begin to form on your knees, and you are sure they'll be an ugly purple color later. Relaxing your features, you finally turn on your heel to face your uncle. It has been so long since you've seen him.

Too long.

He's as handsome as you remember, with his auburn hair, pale blue eyes, and the faint freckles that dust his face. How you wished you could map kisses along those freckles, connecting them with a trail of where your lips had been. But your faith and virtue prevent you from giving in to the desire. Besides, you are sure that if he ever found out you ever thought such things, he'd look at you with such revulsion that you'd crumble to the floor in shame.

He steps closer to you, tucking a stray hair behind your ear tenderly. "You have your mother's beauty, but your father's features," he hums, tweaking your nose playfully before wrapping you in a firm hug. It is not lost on you the slight curt tone his voice took on at the mention of your late father, but you dismiss it.

"And tell me, how have you been fairing during these trying times, hm? Don't tell me you hole yourself up in this sept all day." He teases, bringing a feeling of embarrassment over you for he had guessed correctly. Recently, you do spend the brunt of your days at the sept, praying to almost every facet of the Seven for mercy, strength, wisdom, and safety. Today, you were praying at the statue of the Mother, and after you lit a candle for her altar, you prayed for mercy and protection for your family members. It is one of the few things that brings you comfort nowadays, your faith in the Seven who are One.

"Well, there isn't much I can do," you shrug, letting a small frown tug at your lips. "It's not like I can sit in on a council meeting, and mother refuses to let me on my dragon. She seems perfectly content in keeping me idle and useless," you remark with a tone of annoyance, one that draws a low laugh from your uncle.

"Your mother means well, sweet niece. You're better suited here, getting favor from the gods as opposed to being in the midst of battle. Believe me, it is a bloody, nasty affair, and you are far too delicate to join in," he grips your chin in between his forefinger and his thumb, keeping your lilac gaze trained on his ocean-blue eyes.

You cannot even think of a response to his dismissing words, as you are too busy trying to push away the familiar ache you get between your thighs. It always comes at the most inconvenient of times, like when you watch the men in the training yard move, sweaty and shirtless, or when you spy on your brother coupling with a serving girl. All you know is that it persists for ages, and no amount of praying stops it.

But you can only try.

"S-Shall we pray, uncle? So that the Mother may grant us safety, of course," you propose, shifting nervously on your feet. Perhaps it is the light flush that has appeared on your face, or how you try to discreetly press your thighs together for some form of relief, but Gwayne knows. He always knows.

To save yourself some embarrassment, you resume your kneeling position before the statue and altar of the Mother, clasping your hands together in the standard praying position. You expect your uncle to kneel beside you, or just leave the sept all together, so you are quite surprised when you feel him loom behind you.

His firm chest swiftly presses against your back, and his larger and calloused hands come to rest over your softer ones, and you find yourself trapped in this embrace. Whether it is to your delight or misfortune, you cannot decide. You squeeze your eyes shut and silently beg for forgiveness for the unseemly thoughts that run through your brain at his actions. 'Who thinks such perverse things in a holy place?' you think, mentally chastising yourself.

"Well, go on then, sweet one. Pray for me," he whispers, and you can feel his breath fanning against the shell of your ear. Gwayne is enjoying this, enjoying this little game of denial you two play. Of course, it is wrong for him to want to take you in the lewdest positions, to have you scream his name so everyone knows who is fucking you so good, but he has restrained himself all this time. Patience is a great virtue, yes, but he wishes to reap his reward for remaining ever so patient now.

"M-Mother Above, have mercy on us all. I beg you for your protection, and for you to-" you cut yourself off with a gasp as your uncle buries his face into the crook of your neck, and gently nips at the soft skin there. He begins pressing himself against your ass, making your cheeks flush even more.

Noticing your sudden pause, he pulls back to look at your blushing face with a devilish smirk. "Well? Go on, don't mind me," he says before going right back to nipping and sucking at your neck. It is impossible for you to stay concentrated on your prayers as he continues, and you resign to praying in your head as your words fail you.

Your prayers only falter as you feel something hard poking against your backside, prodding and bumping against you relentlessly. Gwayne begins peppering kisses from your neck and to your jawline before tugging your head back gently, and letting his lips brush against yours. He only pauses as you tilt your head a little bit away in reluctance.

"U-Uncle, this is wrong. N-Not here, we cannot do this-"

"Shh, enough with that. It isn't wrong, not in the slightest. It's not wrong, not when you're meant for me. Surely even the gods will understand," he mumbles against the softness of your lips. You feel in that little moment of pause that his are a bit chapped, most likely from days of riding on horseback and camping in the wilderness. But it matters little then.

Once his lips are on yours, you cannot help the cascade of little moans that leaves you. His mouth is overwhelming and easily overpowers your rather inexperienced one, and you feel his hands move from their position over yours. One hand moves to your neck, and the other to your breast, fondling it through your dress as he continues humping you from behind.

You are thankful the sept is empty today. If word of what you do now reached your mother, of the depravity you partake in with her own brother, you're sure she'd have you sent far away to become a septa.

With a final peck to your lips, your uncle stands. He drinks in the sight of you like this; cheeks flushed, hair a bit messy, clothes rumpled, and swollen lips, all from him, of course. He swears then and there he's never seen a more beautiful sight.

"Up you go, princess," he mumbles, before picking you up with ease and setting you to sit on the edge of the altar. He messily pushes away the candles and various offerings left there to make room for you, and you cringe at the disrespect, disrespect born from lust and hastiness.

The new position allows for you to be relatively level with his face, and he soon hikes your dress up and stands between your parted thighs. As he begins to rub his erection against your clothed cunt, you grab onto his forearms to ground yourself.

His erection rubs against your dampened smallclothes, brushing against your bud and your folds. With each grind of his hips, you feel something like a fire burning through your bones. But with your clothes acting like a barrier, and the slightly awkward angle, it's not enough for you. Even with your unfamiliarity to such actions, you still know it is not enough.

"M-More, more. Uncle, I need more." you whine, pulling him closer by the laces of his breeches, eliciting a sly smirk from him.

"Well well, I never thought I'd see the day where my own niece was begging for me like a whore." he teases, making you frown at the crude and cruel word.

A cruel word indeed, and you feel the familiar sensation of your eyes watering, and your nose instinctively sniffling. Gwayne's smirk falters for a moment as he watches little tears spill from your eyes, but only for a moment.

"Aw, come now sweet girl, don't take offense. It was all in good fun, yes?" he coos to you, and you feel him begin to lick your tears away, catching the salty evidence of your crying on his tongue. "But oh, darling one, how pretty you look when you cry. Are you gonna cry more with what I do to you, little princess?" he asks with a mocking little pout, before kissing back down your neck.

You've always been a bit of a sensitive girl, everyone knows this. The smallest hint of frustration or anger to you, or even words spoken to you all in jest send you easily into tears. What you were not expecting was for them to be met with something other than the typical annoyed shushing you are used to receiving when you begin to cry.

Soon, Gwayne is kneeling before you, and pulling your wet smallclothes down. His lips pepper light kisses along your soft inner thighs, teasing you once more. "So wet...all for me, little princess?" he asks before nudging his nose against your bud, making you jolt with pleasure. He inhales your sweet scent. 'The scent of a wet virgin', he thinks crudely to himself.

You keep yourself propped up with your arms, and you look down at him between your thighs. Both of your legs have been thrown over his shoulders, and the instinct to wiggle your core closer to him grows. With a knowing gaze, Gwayne looks up at you with a smirk, before his tongue darts out and he dives in.

He eats you like a starved man.

His tongue licks stripes along your core, lapping up your arousal hungrily. His mouth works expertly, and all you can do is sit there helplessly and moan. Your little squeals and high-pitched whines sound adorable to him, and he laughs against your cunt. The vibrations, of course, make you jump again.

"My my, little niece, aren't you quite the sensitive one? Is your cunny as sensitive as your heart, hm?" he teases, as he continues to lick and suckle you. You cannot respond, too incapacitated by the pleasure his mouth brings you. It is nothing like you've ever felt before. Even your pillow or your hands don't feel as good as this.

"U-Uncle, uncle Gwayne, it feels s'good," you practically babble out as the lewd sounds of him slurping against you echoes around the sept. Your hand comes down to grip at his auburn hair, tugging him closer to your cunt. You care not anymore if this depravity is sullying a holy place, or if the gods watch with disapproval. There's always time to repent, after all.

The little pain you yanking his hair brings him makes him groan against your puffy folds, adding only to the stimulation you feel. "Yeah? Feels good? Oh, baby, you have no idea..." he murmurs, leaving you a little confused at his choice of words.

But you soon find out what exactly he means.

His mouth moves to focus only on your sensitive bud, sucking on it gently while he introduces two fingers to your wet folds. His fingers dance along your slit, dragging up and down in a slow, almost torturous manner.

You cry and squirm against him, greedily pushing his face right against your cunt. He heeds your signal, and finally pushes his fingers inside your velvety walls.

The stretch and feeling of something penetrating you are new and utterly foreign, but with the added stimulation his mouth still gives, the uncomfortableness of it all soon washes away to make room for pleasure. He begins pumping his fingers in and out of you slowly, careful to not hurt you as he works you open.

Once he is sure you are ready, only then does he move his fingers faster. Your thighs squeeze around his head with the intensity of it all, and he has to wrench them back apart. "I can't move if you're trying to block me, sweetling," he chuckles, earning a sheepish "sorry" from you.

As he continues his ministrations, his fingers finally brush against and find that spongy sweet spot hidden up you. He begins to nudge against it with his fingertips, making you gush your arousal all over his face. You've never felt such an intense and yet wonderful feeling in your life, and soon you find it all beginning to build up and crescendo.

His free hand massages and strokes your hips gently, and rubs circles over your belly a little, just to soothe you. He can feel your walls tightening up, and how your thighs tremble and shake around his head. "You can do it, baby, you can do it. Go on, sweet niece," he coos, finally sending you over the edge.

With a loud cry, you tremble and feel such intense pleasure crashing over you like the waves during a tumultuous seastorm. You chant his name, worshipping him as if he were a god.

Once your peak washes over you, you slump against the base of the statue of the Mother. Gwayne promptly stands, his mouth and chin dripping with your juices. "You're the sweetest thing I've ever tasted. Perhaps I should have you every night instead of wine." he smiles, before thumbing stray tears that rest on your flushed cheeks away.

He wipes his mouth with his forearm, before kissing you once more. You can taste yourself on your tongue. "I have to go now, sweet one. Pray to the gods for me, will you? And when I come back, we can pray together again. Wouldn't you like that?" he grins, cupping your face in his hands.

A knowing smile forms on your kiss-swollen lips as you understand the insinuations of his words. As he rides off to fight your brother's war, you will remain praying in the sept, longing for the day he will return and come to pray with you again.

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[sapphiressmoke]

Outlander I

Summary: She doesn’t know how it happened but they were calling to her to come closer. Touching it was never suppose to uproot her life and transport her somewhere she never thought she could see and witness. She has to try her best to survive if she wants to get back, right?

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen X Modern!Reader.

Warnings: Nothing as of now but angst, romance, smut

Word Count: 2.6K

Next Part

2024 AC Kings Landing

So this was the magical Kings Landing? Once the vast and lively city was now a place of desolation, solitude and history. It had been like this ever since the burning in 305 A.C between two Queens. You read about how it was a horrible event, many innocent people lost their lives… Even the two Queens. Since that moment, no more Targaryens roamed Westeros. It was now a place of history and learning. Most teachers brought their students here to see what they were being taught. Some parents dragged their kids here to learn of their heritage.

You were here for the first reason.

Being in your second year of Vale University, you were studying History and Literature. What were you going to with that degree? You have no idea but at least you were enjoying yourself… For the most part. “The Red Keep took many years to complete. Three reigns to be exact. What started on Aegon’s High Hill names Aegonfort. King Aegon the First used this fort as his seat during the conquest, housing the impeccable Iron Throne. Though it was destroyed in the battle of Kings Landing, paintings portrayed this throne as huge and intimidating.” Your group followed your professor as she guided everyone at the base of what the humongous Keep used to be. You looked around, red brick scattered over the floor. You mind raced as you thought of how these bricks were over 2000 years old, millions of people have touched them and now they were scattered all over the dirt floor. “It isn’t said when but at some point after the Conquest, the King ordered the destruction of the Fort and the construction of the Red Keep began. It was said that Aegon requested the castle be built with red rock to remind people of the fire he roasted and the blood he shed of his enemies, so whenever King’s Landing looked up they’d see the price of defiance.”

Your professor continued to talk but the sound of nature around you drowned it out. The sound of buzzing getting louder in your ear, getting louder and louder. “Ugh! You don’t hear that?” You brought your finger to your ears and tried wiggling it around to see if there was anything there.

“Hear what?” Your friend, Talia, said as she leaned in.

“That stupid buzzing sound. It won’t stop.” You groaned as you continued with your ear.

Your friend gave you a weird look. “I just think you’re going crazy. There is nothing.”

The buzzing softened and turned into a soft whisper, softer than wind. “Y/N… Darling… Y/N.”

You whipped your head back, trying to find the source of the noise. “Please told me heard that!” Before Talia could respond, your professor spoke faster. “Is there something you would like to add, Miss Y/N?”

Your face went beat red from embarrassment. “No ma’am… Sorry.” You said sheepishly.

“Thank you. Now where was I? Ah yes. The start of the fall of the Targaryens, it started when…” You started to zone out and looked back behind you, trying to figure out where the whisper came from. From the bottom of the hill, you spotted a man sporting an eyepatch, long silver hair and cladded in leather. He had his arm extended out towards you, as if he was waiting for you to come and grab it, calling you to run away with him but just as fast as you spotted him, he disappeared.

You felt your arm being grabbed and a hand stroke your upper arm. You turned towards Talia, who wore a worried look. “Is everything okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

You shook your head and ran a hand through your hair. “Yea… Yes. I’m good.” You grasped her hand that was on your upper arm. “Let’s just get this tour over with. It’s giving me the heebie jeebies.”

“You got that right.” She agreed. “But I heard that the Kingswood, which is just behind the hotel, is just as creepy. Maybe even haunted!”

128 AC Kings Landing

“Mother, please tell me I do not need to go to this hunt. There are better things I can do with my time.” The One-Eyed Prince has been trying for days to stay at the Keep, not wanting to waste a morning travelling to the Kingswood just for a hunt that he did not want to participate in.

The Queen sighed at her son, pushing a silver strand away from his stoic face. “Aemond… ‘Tis for Jaehaerys and Jaehaeras name day. Your brother wants to do a grand celebration for them. Especially for Jaehaerys.”

He rolled his one eye. “We all know that it’s an excuse for him to drink away… With reason this time.” He looked up at his mother. “Will father be coming?”

“The Maesters will assess The Kings health before letting us know but I do doubt that he will be able to join with the amount of pain he has been in.” The Queen replied. It has been no secret that The Kings has been declining the past couple of years. Decaying flesh, rotting teeth and constant pain. Drunk day in and out on milk of the poppy.

“If he does not go…” He tried to think of a reason to stay but was stump. “If he does not go then I shall stay here and watch over him.” Lies.

Alice by let out a chuckle. “You are quite the convincing liar, Aemond, but the Maesters will be here to aid your father in anything.” She walked away from her son and looked at the window, looking upon the people of Kings Landing. “I know you would much rather be here, reading in the library and training outside but it will do you some good to be away for a bit. Breath the good air of Kingswood.” She turned around to face her third child. “Plus, Ser Criston Cole shall be joining us if you ever do need to scratch the intense to train.”

Aemond rubbed his face and groaned. “I guess you are right, mother. But I will not ride with Aegon in the carriage. He’s an imbecile and will most likely throw up from all of the wine he has drank.”

“Thank you.” Alicent smiled. “You may ride with with me and Ser Criston. Halaena will be with the children and nurse while Aegon rides with Ser Arryk and Erryk as it seems they are the only ones that can deal with his shenanigans.”

“As I mentioned before… Imbecile.”

The night passed swiftly and once the sun started to rise and was on the horizon line, the Royal Family begun their travels to the Kingswood. Even though Aemond was never a talkative person, worsening after the incident with his eye, he seemed even more lost in his thoughts than usual. He stared out the window, sitting across from his mother who watched him intensely. “What is on your mind, sweet son?”

Aemond continued to look outside the window but sighed. “I had this weird dream. Was just flashes of images. Nothing clear. There was this woman… She seemed lost, searching for help. It sounded like she was calling out to me but the way she dressed did not seem normal.”

The Queen stayed silent for a moment before speaking. “Are you a Dragon Dreamer now?” She joked, causing a small smile to break on the princes face. “Dreams have many meanings. Perhaps it’s just a bad dream from the stress you put on yourself. Free your mind for the next couple of days. Perhaps even participate in the hunt.”

The hunt that went on in the Kingswoods happened every couple of years, usually to celebrate a names day for a royal child. The White Hart was usually the main goal of the hunt but any animal was game. “And if I were to meet the White Hart, would that not be a sign that I should be the King over my buffoon of a brother?” It was quite well known that Aegon did not desire to be King, fought against everything Even fighting with his Grand Father and Mother saying that it was his Half Sisters birthright but all of his complaints were going to a deaf ear. Aemond wished to rule. He was fit to rule and it was simple: he rode the largest dragon in all of Westeros, he excelled in combat and studied on the history and politics of his family and of Westeros but it would not go to him unless everyone in front of him died.

This was a conversation he had with his mother too often but his question was answered with silence. That was how the rest of the carriage ride went. Silence. The dream kept replaying over and over in his mind. Who was this girl? What was she doing? Who was she to him?

Within the next couple of hours, Lords and Ladies and the Royals arrived in Kingswood. The air still cold with the mornings breath. Everything was set up for them to place clothing, tables… Everything. The children were running about, screaming playfully with each other. Jaehaerys and Jaehaera came running towards Aemond, crashing into his legs. “Hi Uncle Aemond!” They squealed.

He looked down at his niece and nephew, rubbing the back of their heads before pushing them back on their way. “Hello you two.”

“Time travels back and is protected by the White King.” Helaena whispered into the cold air of the morning, staring at Aemond from across the way.

Aemond looked up to make eye contact with Halaena, seeing her lips move but not making out what she had said. He cocked his head to the side, deciding to walk towards his sister to see what she had said. She didn’t seem to realize that Aemond was by her side before he squeezed her hand. “What was that, good sister?” Helaena looked up at him and gave him a small smile. “Only Time can tell you… Only Time.”

The rest of day went on eventfully. The men prepared for the hunt while the women gossiped as they ate cake. Of course Alicent chose not to participate in the gossip. She could not bother to hear anymore about Rhaenyra, her bastard sons and how great they are. She decided to watch her grand-children run about. Aegon was nowhere to be found, most likely already drunk in his tent, Helaena chose to rest in her tent as the carriage ride took a lot out of her and Aemond sat with Criston Cole as they sharpened their swords, getting ready for the hunt. She stared around her and for a slight moment, she would think her life was perfect. She had her children and her grand-children around her but then she remembers that she is practically ruling the Seven Kingdoms, her husband was dying and she was alone in the world.

2024 AC Kingswood

You slipped on your black slip dress, continuing to argue with your friend in the hotel room. “You don’t get it, Talia! There is something calling to me out there. I’m not insane. I’m not crazy. It’s been going on ever since we entered Kings Landing.” The buzzing was constant, the whispering was constant and the flashes of that man were at every corner.

Talia sat on the bed, her eyes following you as you continued to pace around the room. “I’m not saying you’re crazy but you sound crazy, Y/N. A silver haired man with only one eye? Listen to yourself!”

You groaned and you pulled yourself into a ball. “I know what I sound like!” You stood back up and waved your arms around. “But this… This place is weird. There has been so many deaths and apparently fucking magic. There is something going on.” You grabbed your black shawl from your luggage and pulled in over your shoulders. “And I am going to figure it out.” You pointed to the woods. “I’m going to go in those stupid woods and try to find something. I don’t what I will try to find but I will know what it is when I see it.”

Your friend gave you a shocked look, standing up quickly and grabbed your arm. “Okay now I’m saying that you are crazy! There’s boars… Bears in those woods! You could die! What would your mom do if you die?”

You ripped your arm from her grasp. “Well she always knew I would die in a stupid way. Tell her I love her. And before you ask, no you can’t come. You’ll be the person to let the teacher know that I’m gone. If I’m not back before the next tour tomorrow morning, you can go all out and tell everyone I’m missing. Okay?”

You saw the perplexed look she wore in her face before answering. “Fine. Fine! If you die… Ugh!”

You put on your pair of shoes, grabbed your flashlight and placed it your bag before heading out. You stood in front of the forest and sighed, were you really this stupid? Yes, yes you were. You took one last look at the hotel before you made your way into the dark, insect infected forest… Gods you were dumb.

It had already been a few hours at this point, you were tired, you were hungry and you still had no idea what you were looking for. You kept hearing animal noises surrounding you and you were terrified. What if a wild boar chased you or a bear mauled you to death? What if you died of dehydration. How many days does it take to die or dehydration or hunger?

Suddenly the aura around you shifted and the whispering begun again. ‘You’re so close, Y/N. Continue.’ It was a man’s voice. It was so clear. ‘Continue straight, My Love, we’ll be together soon.’ The buzzing began and it only got louder as you continued walking straight. The further you walked, the higher the grass got. It was tickling your calves. It was as if a flash of light opened your eyes when all of the sudden a bunch of tall stones stood tall in front of you, being illuminated by the direct moonlight. The aura surrounding it was calling to you to come closer. “This is what I’ve been looking for.” You beamed with excitement.

The buzzing only got louder as you approached the Stones. The high grass tickled your calves, leaving tiny water droplets on your skin. The buzzing sounded as if it was whispering your name, soft as wind. “Y/N… Y/N…”. It only drew you closer.

The Stones had this silver and golden aura surrounding it. Were you the only one that could sense it? Were you the only one that could hear it? See it? Your thoughts were racing as you stood in front of the tall Stone. You raised your right hand to touch it, as if that was what it was telling you to do. The only thing you could do. For a moment you hesitated, wondering what you were doing, why were you here but it just kept calling out. “Y/N… Y/N…”

You let out a long breath and pressed your palm flat against the rough texture. Within the moment, all sound seized to exist around her, life was dark and as soon as it disappeared, everything reappeared.

128 AC Kingswood

You blinked your eyes fast, letting out a shaky breath. You stumbled backwards and the world wasn’t as you just saw. There were more trees surrounding you. The woods seemed to be more lively than before. “Oh Gods, what did I do.”

From back at the camp, Helaena felt the shift in the air. “Welcome home, Time.” Helaena smiled.

———————————————

SOOO what do we think? It’s only getting started and I’m so excited to see where this goes.

[sassysaxsolo]

Lads.... shaking as I type this..... I saw Ewan Mitchell's PEE PEE

[beautifulsweetschaos]

Is he Benji or David??? WHO THE FUCK IS DAVOS??? Surely he’s Benji? I mean Kieran literally posted fanart labelled ‘Bloody Ben’ TWICE???

[b00kdiary]

Beautiful creature (Part II)

Aemond x Plus size reader

Aemond and the reader are in a game of cat and mouse, where predator hunts prey. He doesn't care who she is, or where she is from, he doesn't care what anyone else thinks. He wants her.

Warning: swearing, violence, depictions of sexual assault, body issues, and sexual content (mature 18+)

Part I here

Part II

Part III

Masterlist (Aemond Targaryen)

Y/N entered the Great Hall beside Princess Helaena, her head low and body hidden allowing her friend the space for the Lords and Ladies to be in awe of her.

They descended the stone steps, Y/N holding the feather-soft silk of her cream skirts, the material so luxurious it felt almost criminal for her to touch it. The Tyrells were not poor by any means, in fact, they had full coffers and were privileged as Highborn but Y/N had never worn something so fine.

She lifted her gaze as they neared the end of the staircase, and was surprised to find more than one pair of keen eyes intently upon her. She gaped as many men, and women, stared at her, veiled appreciation shining in their eyes as they took in her attire and appearance.

Her stomach twisted at that attention and only as her eyes swept over the crowd, searching and finally met that one-sapphire blue orb, did she exhale.

Aemond was watching her, his face pulled up into a lazy smirk and his eye shone with awe as he beheld her. She blushed under his gaze and felt her skin grow clammy as he took in every detail.

His eye washed over her dark curls, pinned behind her head into a classy updo with two soft ringlets framing her bright face. He took in the dark kohl that lined her eyes and the soft pinch of pink that coloured her cheeks before finally his gaze stopped at the blushed rose of her plump lips. Y/N nearly shivered at the want that shone in his eye.

She straightened her back as he transcended like a cool wind down her neck and chest, feline satisfaction lighting his features at the pendent he’d gifted her still laying between her lifted breasts, outlined by the sweetheart neckline and lace.

He took a leisurely sip from his cup as if needing to quench his thirst as he took in the tight and shaping bodice that cinched her waist and flared out her shaped hips, leaving little to the imagination before the silks cascaded to the floor in layered waves embroidered with silver.

After what felt like an eternity, his gaze lifted back up to her face, that feral lust and appreciation shining as he swiftly placed down his cup, stalking over to her. She braced herself as he weaved through the throng of people.

And within moments she saw him up close.

Y/N’s body shivered as she beheld the Prince in his finery.

No longer adorning his usual leathers, Prince Aemond wore a dark green topcoat that hugged him perfectly, expanding over his broad shoulders and then tapering around the v-line of his waist. His white undershirt peaked through and in the gap lay a thick silver chain, stark against his pale smooth skin. Her eyes waved across the rings adorning each long and thick finger and how he wore a cloth, a token, around his wrist.

A gift from his sister not too long ago.

“Lady Tyrell” His voice broke her trance and she started as her eyes lifted back to his. He chuckled, brow lifting as he gave her a knowing smirk and Y/N could barely contain the heat that coursed through her.

“My Prince” She bowed, tilting her head down slightly, her eyes remaining locked on his. “You look very dashing tonight,” She said softly and his eyes darkened at her tone.

“Thank you, Lady Y/N “ He smiled, his eye slowly falling over her figure once again as he stepped closer “But I don’t imagine anyone in this room looks quite as breath-taking as you” He muttered against her ear, his hot breath snaking over her cheek.

She blushed, ducking her head at the compliment before lifting her eyes hesitantly to him. “Thank you, the dress is beautiful-“

“You are beautiful Y/N,” He cut me off, his tone intense “You’re body, those god damned curves fill that dress out like perfection, nothing else could compare.” Y/N shook her head bashfully, even as her heart warmed at that unwavering look in the Prince's eyes.

She parted her lips to speak, her throat tightening and eyes stinging with emotion, and concern flashed across his face but before either could speak, Helaena was rushing towards them yet again, pulling on Y/N’s hand to drag her away.

She gathered herself and nodded goodbye to the Prince, even as her body yearned to be back beside him and his tight jaw and thinned lips expressed a similar sentiment.

Helaena and Y/N crossed the room, the polite and social Princess greeting and laughing with many of the Ladies and Lords throughout the next half an hour and Y/N stood beside the Princess, a pillar of strength so that she may feel comfortable enough to actually engage with her people.

Y/N would smile occasionally, or nod along to whatever the conversation struck but her mind was jumbled, still twisting and turning over her interaction with the Prince earlier in the day and then how he’d looked at her tonight.

His look made her feel as if she were the only woman in the room.

Her eyes would continually wander throughout the night and as she turned her head, she’d instantly find him within a throng of gathered men.

His eyes were already upon her.

She’d smile nervously at having been caught looking for him but he would merely smirk, throwing her a wink that had her turning red. He didn’t dare look bothered that she’d caught him watching her, not once as the moments ticked by.

Y/N and Helaena soon found themselves sat at the head table, the former attempting to stop her own wondering eyes as the latter drank slowly from her cup, smiling occasionally at the people who passed and bowed.

“That pendant is beautiful” Helaena suddenly said and Y/n froze at her words. She swallowed and with guilty eyes looked towards her friend. But Helaena was the picture of kindness, with nothing untoward or suspicious in her gaze.

“Thank you” Y/N replied softly, fiddling with the eye “It was a gift from… someone dear to me.” Helaena grinned, joy spreading across her face at her words.

“Good, I’m happy for you” She began but suddenly stuttered, her body jerking slightly.

“Helaena?” Y/N asked with immediate concern, leaning forward and bracing a hand on her arm.

“Beware of the stag that hunts, for fire and fury will claim vengeance in your stead” She uttered sternly, her eyes wide and back pin-straight, the words spilling out like an endless monotonic jumble.

Another warning, Y/N realised.

She furrowed her brows as she stared at the girl, “What stag? And vengeance in fire for what?” She asked, though Princess Helaena merely frowned slightly, her body now mobile and relaxed as she looked back at Y/N with confusion lacing her pretty face.

“What do you mean, Y/n?” Helaena asked, Y/N shook her head, exasperated, but before she could speak, a male figure began approaching.

“Princess Helaena” He greeted and she smiled sweetly in return.

Y/N’s eyes traced over his features, the dark short cropped hair, the cloudy brown of his eyes and the youthful soft skin that had no marring. He was at least her age, if not a little older and smiled and moved with the grace of a pampered and privileged Lord.

“Brandon” Helaena greeted, standing to allow him to kiss her hand. The boy's eyes shift to Y/Ns and he grins as he caresses her face and figure in an obliged nod.

“Brandon Baratheon, My Lady” He greets and as Y/N placed her hand within his and he runs his lips across the back in a charming caress, she smiles hesitantly.

“It’s a pleasure Ser Baratheon, I am Lady Tyrell” She replies, bowing her head slightly, her hand pulling back quickly from the softness of his warm hands.

Soft and unmarred, opposite to the calloused roughness of Prince Aemonds.

She mentally scolded herself for the comparison and instead looked towards the Ser before her. He beamed at her and with grace and agility, shifted his body to the side and placed a hand before her in invitation.

“I was hoping that the Lady would be inclined to join me for a walk?” He asked softly, his keen eyes doting on her. She baulked at him, her skin prickling as she stuttered out in surprise.

“Oh Ser, that is very kind but- The Princess” She laughed nervously “I am here to accompany Helaena for the night.” He frowns slightly and looks towards the more still Princess beside them, silent as she beheld their interaction.

“I am sure she can handle a few moments without you” He persists. Y/N swallows, uncertain as her gaze flickers to the Princess in question, though the look she gives back signals autonomy in whether she wants to join the young man or not.

“Of course” She nodded turning back to him, smiling slightly as he gripped her hand gently. They moved away from the table and through the crowds gathered, some eyes glancing at them and scrutinising her as they passed, their whispered words and giggles echoing off the walls, threatening to suffocate her.

She imagined the sight was bizarre- Brandon Baratheon was attractive, strong and of good breeding and in comparison, she was sure she looked far inferior, unbecoming by his side.

They manoeuvred down the open path and as they got closer to the doors leading to the garden path, Y/N shivered, feeling the weight of heavy eyes upon her. She gulps as her eyes glance from left to right and her chest seizes at the eye that watches her.

Unparallel fury coated every harsh line and bone of the prince's face.

Aemond’s body was rigid as a bow and his jaw clenched and eye lit with anger as he stared behind Y/N, the ire within him scorching through the hand that was held by the Baratheon boy.

She baulked, exhaling sharply as they rounded the corner and she lost sight of the Prince. She sighed as they silently made their way down the marble path towards the garden, her body quacking slightly at the cold wind that brushed over her, pebbling the soft flesh.

“You’re cold?” Ser Baratheon asked and Y/N nodded softly, her hand coming up to rub at her arms, needing the extra warmth. He nodded and led her toward the lit fire lanterns adoring the wall, stopping in the alcoves gap.

The hallway was empty, the distant rumbling of the party a few hundred feet away the only sound filling the space between them as they stood by that small flame, the heat emitting from it a welcome source of warmth.

Brandon Baratheon looked towards Y/N, his gaze unwavering and an unfamiliar expression fleeting through his features as she breathed unevenly, eyes flicking back and forth at the uncomfortable silence.

She was not accustomed to this kind of male attention, never before had a man asked to walk with her, and never before had she been in such close proximity to one without any other present.

Beside Aemond.

But this did not feel like that moment with the Prince.

Not at all.

His observation didn’t relent upon her as he eyes subtly over her face and figure, and her body iced over, not just from the cold but from the untamed expectance that shone in the young man's face.

“Ser Baratheon, perhaps we should return to the party-“

He cut her off with a hand rising and settling beside her head, trapping her in front of him and leaving no escape to get back to the party. He grinned as he beheld her flinch and the way her eyes had widened and her body had pressed into the cold brick of the wall, desperate to bring space between them.

“Ser, this is highly inappropriate, if anyone were to see-“

“You’ve been the talk of the night” He cut her off sharply, his gaze trained upon her as he leered down. His breath was hot and Y/N stilled as the familiar waft of wine invaded her senses.

How had she not noticed that inebriation before?

“All night I’ve heard endless talk from the Lords of how bedding you would be wonderful and the outraged whispers of the ladies at how a simple Lady in waiting was able to acquire such a magnificent dress” He frowned, his lips inching to brush lightly against her cheek. “Though I think that in a dress like that, your body on display like that… I scarcely imagine that this is the first inappropriate situation you have found yourself in.”

Y/N’s stomach caved in as he smirked, her face contorting with both wrath and fear “How dare you?” She exclaimed and pushed against him once to dislodge him from her space “Remove your filthy hands off of me Ser, I want to return-” She hisses sharply, horror lining her body as he grips a tight fist of her hair, ripping her head back against the brick.

“Shut your fucking mouth, whore” He spat lowly, his eyes darting behind the wall to ensure that none had come outside at her outburst. Y/N cried slightly, her head ringing in pain.

“Filthy?” He snapped rhetorically, sneering as he leered down at her.

 “You should be glad, grateful that a man as powerful as me, as fucking handsome and noble as me would even look in your direction. You may wear expensive silks, Lady” He mocked “but every single hefty, large, heavy-skinned part of you is still there, you trick no one by mimicking the beauty of other thin and attractive ladies, you are the obvious imposter in that room, Lady Tyrell” He spat the words like venom.

Y/N bit back her sob even as tears began leaking down her cheeks and her body began to burn with humiliation and horror. He laughed in dark amusement, his other hand coming down to grip harshly against her breast, yanking the material to partly expose her to the thin air and his cruel gaze. She sobbed out, shutting her eyes at the inevitability of what was about to occur.

“Were it not for these fucking tits that you so brazenly flaunted, I would not have stooped to your level, not even for a fuck. But alas, it seems that boasting of my enjoyment with the prize of the night shall be my reward for this charity.”

She wailed like a banshee for Aemond as he bit down onto her chest, filling her with agony at the brutal penetration of teeth into the soft flesh. He ripped back, blood coating his teeth as he swore and slapped her with a dizzying blow across the face, her mind spinning and metal filling her mouth as she slumped back against the wall.

Y/N was disorientated, her eyes blurring as he wrapped a large hand around her windpipe and squeezed. She coughed, gasping as the air began to dissipate from her lungs, Y/N’s eyes swelled with tears as she desperately clawed at his grip, feeling herself drift away as he dragged her higher onto her tiptoes, pushing her closer to that fatal edge.

Her eyes began to flutter shut as she slowly and agonisingly choked, her hands falling limp to her side and face turning purple from asphyxiation.

She would die soon, she knew it.

Her lids drifted shut as that pain began to disappear and her body began to go limp and she welcomed death- if only it meant being free from this torment.

Suddenly, her body collapsed against the floor and her back hit the wall as she fell. Air rushed into her lungs in one full wave and she choked, hand instinctively gripping her sore throat. She panted, desperate and greedy for air as she braced herself upon her arms and heaved. Her head was practically exploding with pain and her eyes were fluttering, bordering unconsciousness.

She lifted her heavy head at the sound of grunts and cries and as her foggy eyes adjusted, she beheld the horrific sight before her.

Aemond Targaryen sat astride over the Baratheon boy, his back facing towards her as his hands did god knows what in front of him. She cringed at the muffled and gurgled sobs and pleads and stared with a sick stomach as Brandon writhed and bucked in desperation against the Prince.

Aemond’s growls and threats filtered to her as Y/N heaved, shifting to the right and vomiting up bile onto the stone beside her. She gagged and heaved and choked as she vomited again and again, cries escaping her lips at the burn of her throat.

She jumped with a start as a hand gently touched her back but sagged in relief at the sight of the Prince's worried face before her. He knelt beside her and she beheld the blood coating his hands as he pulled a cloth from his pocket, slowly wiping at the blood and vomit that coated her lips.

“My love” He whispered softly, pain etched onto his features and she instantly fell apart. He snarled quietly as he grabbed and held her into him, her body shaking and sobs wrecking through her as she laid her cheek on his neck.

“You’re safe” He whispered, hand brushing into her hair, soothing over the spot that ached so dearly and rocked back and forth. “No one else will hurt you, I promise you are safe.” The words came out in desperate grits as he gripped her tightly and she slowly calmed down, her sobs lessening into pained whimpers.

After several moments, the Prince pulled back and silently placed a hand under her skirt, hooking behind her legs and the other gripped behind her back as he lifted her off the ground. She gasped at the movement, even more so at how easily and unbothered he had been in carrying her.

As if she weighed nothing.

Through puffy eyes she raised her face, taking in the tight lines contorted across him and how that one eye seemed to seethe in fury and wildfire.

 Not at her, she realised, but at himself.

He began walking down the pavement and Y/Ns eyes dropped curiously to the floor as they passed, a dry gasp escaping her at the body she saw there.

The Baratheon heir was missing several fingers as if cut off when attempting to shield himself from the Princes rage and his eyes were split into two different positions, expertly done and meticulous carvings. But the most disturbing sight was of the man's tongue, which now lay severed beside his head, the red pooling on either side of his neck indicating he died choking on his own blood.

She shivered, her eyes shifting quickly from the sight that would haunt her nightmares and she knew that Aemond was watching her, scrutinising her reaction, waiting for her outrage and disgust. But instead, Y/N whimpered, tucking her head tightly into the Prince's chest, inhaling his scent like he was exactly what she needed.

His body trembled under her at that comforting action and Y/N swore that she could feel the Prince's heart hammering madly in his chest.

They moved swiftly through the halls away from the party and up the stairs, not being met by a single person as Aemond marched through the Keep with unrelenting focus. Soon they were on a much higher floor and as Aemond shoved open a heavy set of mahogany doors and stepped inside, Y/N knew that the Prince had brought her to his chambers.

With a swift kick of his foot, the door was slammed shut behind them and the Prince was taking her over to his large bed. A protest raised in her throat as he placed her against the cloud-like pillows and she sunk into the softness of the mattress, but only a cough escaped her as she tried to speak.

He alerted at that rough sound, jumping up and rushing to the side of the room to fill a cup with water. He returned like lightning, not handing Y/n the cup, but instead he brought it up to her lips himself, guiding her to slowly take a few sips.

She relaxed as she drank, the aches in her body more prominent now as the silence of the room drew in and the adrenaline of the prior events died down. He took the cup back, placing it on the side table within her reach before his grave expression came back to her.

“Thank you” She croaked out softly, and Prince Aemond’s eyes shuttered with hurt at the difficulty she had, and as he lifted his gaze back, his eyes filled with wrath and sadness at the harsh bruise that was surely gathering around her neck.

“I’m sorry, my love” He croaked out, his voice cracking. He sat beside her on the bed now and his head was hung in shame. Y/N frowned her brows furrowing as she beheld him.

“For what, My Prince.” She asked shaking her head “You saved me.”

He scoffed, his eyes full of self-hatred as he took in her violated appearance. “I got there too late,” He hissed, rubbing his face aggressively in contempt “My stupid insecurity and jealousy kept me from immediately following you out like I knew I should have done. I should have protected you not come late to stop him from-“.

He cut off harshly, a fog transcending over his eyes that had her heart shattering into pieces. She exhaled shakily, shaking her head in disagreement as her hand reached up and he allowed her to cup his cheek, pulling him closer to her embrace.

“My Prince, you saved me” She lamented again, surer, slower, with her eyes bright with resolve.

She sniffed, tears beginning to well in her eyes and he groaned at the sight “ He would have- he wanted to… I was welcoming death, so long as it meant that I would not be alive to endure whatever else he planned to do to me” She choked out and Aemond’s fingers tightened against her wrist, still clutching her to his face.

“But then you came” She smiled, even as tears leaked down her cheeks “You came like I knew you would like, I prayed you would and now I’m safe.” She panted as she leaned forward, resting her forehead against him. “I’m safe.” She reaffirmed, echoing back the words he had said to her.

He exhaled unevenly, his face scrunched with emotion as he nodded once, kissing her wet cheek sweetly, adoringly, his hand holding her like he feared he’d lose her if he let go.

“You need medicine” He stated in remembrance, clearing his throat and straightening his back as he stood.

“I can return to my own chambers My Prince, I do not wish to burden you” Y/N stated, her voice cracking, but the Prince didn’t even glance her way, he ignored her thoroughly as he yanked open the cabinet draw and pulled out a tin and vial.

She observed in silence, biting back her cringe at the ache that spread through her whole body as he went to the basin, quickly washing off the dried blood coating his hands before filling another bowl and grabbing a cloth.

He came beside her again, discarding all his necessary equipment and objects on the side table, and before he sat, his muscular body clenched and moved with grace as he slowly unbuttoned and removed his topcoat.

At any other circumstance, his actions would have been wonton and lewd, filling her with baseless desire.

She controlled her breathing as he took the cloth, and dipped it into the water bowl, rinsing it out. “I can do that myself-“ She stopped at his harsh glare, his unwavering expression definitive in helping her.

She exhaled, leaning her sore back onto the pillows beside her and fiddling with her cracked fingernails.

Silently and meticulously, the Prince brought the cloth to her face and with such gentleness, it broke her heart, he wiped and cleaned off the dried blood and dirt that stained her. He went around the corners of her head and then her nose and then finally, he patted the damp cloth at the corner of her lip, where she knew blood stained after that brutal slap she’d taken.

Her breathing stuttered at the memory and she barely contained the sob that was lodged in her throat. The Prince’s face stuttered and wordlessly, he ran his rough thumb over her lip, the caress a reminder that he was there.  Her heart pulled at the action and he smiled slightly in warmness when she looked up at him in gratitude.

The silence stretched on as he placed down the cloth and picked up the salve, his fingers making quick work of opening and smearing a healthy amount of the mossy mixture of herbs onto his fingers and palms to use.

Y/N braced herself for the pain and his solemn face and tight jaw told her enough of the discomfort that was to come. She hissed as his fingers grazed the column of her throat and tears began to leak as he smeared the healing mixture over her bruised and purple skin.

He halted at the sight of the wetness on her cheeks, agony lining his face as he moved to pull away but Y/N shook her head, her hand guiding him to finish “It’s ok” She reassured quietly, nodding gently “It’ll make me better.”

He swallowed deeply, his hands trembling slightly as he continued applying the salve, flinching, actually flinching, each time she hissed or whimpered in pain. But with quick efficiency, he managed to cover her neck in the healing ointment and the cool press of it already eased the ache there.

Prince Aemond paused, his eyes meeting hers with uncertainty and worry as he fidgeted with the slave tin in his hand.

“My Prince?” She asked slowly, caution in her eyes.

“I-“ He cut off, exhaling sharply as his eyes dropped to her chest “The wound on your chest, may I… is it alright for me to apply the salve there?” He asked so gently, so much hesitation and worry marring his face as if he feared she’d fling herself away in horror at the thought.

Her lip quivered at the thought and she nodded, shaking her head up and down so hard her head ached, but she didn’t care, she needed him to know that she trusted him. “Yes, of course, it’s a yes.”

He relaxed at the words and with a more controlled hand and eyes so full of emotion and care, he slowly brushed two fingers against the exposed front of her breast, the material ripped away long ago. He covered the two punctured wounds there that were now stained black and purple heavily with the salve, and the pain that lanced through Y/N made her grit her teeth.

Anger filled her, ire flooding her bones that this moment, the moment she had been longing for of his hands finally on her being ruined by that bastard, that cruel bastard.

Aemond’s gaze was respectful only looking at her long enough to apply the salve before glancing away, back to the salve he now closed and put away.

“Thank you,” Y/N said again and he shook his head dismissively, not needing her appreciation.

“Milk of the poppy,” He said, opening the cork of the vial and handing it to her “ It will help with the pain and allow you to sleep properly tonight.” She nodded, a small grimace gracing her lips as she took the vial from his unsteady hands and quickly drank the bittersweet formula in one go.

He took the vial from her, tossing it into the waste bin with unnerving accuracy and suddenly, the room felt unbelievably quiet.

“It is late,” He said suddenly, standing beside the bed and Y/N gasped as she beheld the sheet of darkness outside, nodding her head, knowing that she did indeed need to get back. She swung her legs swiftly, readying her strength to stand when his alarmed voice reached her and his hands grabbed her arm halting her movement.

“What are you doing?” He demanded with a wide eye. Her eyes raised to his, her brows furrowing.

“Returning to my chambers, I have burdened you enough tonight-“

“You will do no such thing” He cut her off, shaking his head sternly as he lifted her legs back onto his bed “You are in no position to be moving around, never mind going down three flights of stairs and I am not willing to let you out of my sight, not when you’re in such a condition.” His voice wavered on the last few words and her face softened.

“You’ll stay here, in my bed” She baulked at the words but he quickly continued “Do not worry my love, the bed is yours. I will take the couch for the night.” His words were firm as he moved back from the bed, already shifting towards the sofa.

Y/N frowned, already cold from his missing touch.

“Wait” She grabbed his warm hand, feeling his body tense as he stopped, his weary eyes flickering back to her. “Stay” You whispered and his face grew weary, unsure that she was not speaking out of deliriousness.

“I don’t want to take advantage, you aren’t thinking properly-“ He shook his head gravely, his body still a distance away as she gripped his hand for dear life.

“Please” She choked, tears filling her eyes “Don’t leave me.” His face melted at that, his eyes softening into sadness and pain as he sat beside her again, kissing her hand repeatedly in reassurance.

“Never, my love. Never shall I leave you” He swore, his eyes relentless and zeroed in on her and she felt her heart stutter in reply at the sincerity.

He stood, moving to his wardrobe to shuffle through before pulling out a black undershirt and returning to her side. Slowly, he reached it toward her in questioning and she swallowed once, nodding as she took the soft and large material in her hand.

He turned from her, his back towards her as he moved to the candles lighted around the room. As she shifted her hands back and unlaced her dress, a dull ache filling in her body from the movement, Aemond blew out each and every candle.

 Deliberately slow and body averted as to give her space.

Y/n eventually managed to bring the dress down her shoulders, past her tender breasts before yanking the ruined material down her legs and kicking it to the end of the bed. She swiftly tugged on the top shirt, and as it hung a little loose around her, she knew that Prince was considerate enough to have given one that was not so tight-fitted.

Only the candles beside her remained as she crawled under the covers, adjusting her pillows and leaning back. Tears pricked her eyes as she beheld that dress again, the blood and grime now staining that once beautiful and luxurious cream.

She didn’t notice the Prince coming to sit beside her on the open expanse of the bed until he spoke, unbelievably soft.

“I will buy you another,” He said, taking the dress and throwing it to some forgotten corner of the room. His eyes darkened as he met her teary gaze, “I will buy you a million dresses and necklaces, or whatever pleases you. So long as that light does not disappear wholly from your eyes, my love.” She chokes on a sob at his words and he pulls her to his chest, allowing her to soak endless tears into his shirt.

They remain held together for what felt like hours, her head buried in the crook of his neck, his hands, one in her hair, the other wrapped around her waist clinging her to him, as if he needs her comfort as desperately as she needs his.

They lay back together, that candle flickering out and encasing them in darkness. Aemond pulls the satin cloth over Y/Ns body, cradling her head and body against him as her breathing begins to even out and her body relaxes.

He sighs, pressing a long and despairing kiss to her forehead, entwining their bodies into one as he too falls into peaceful oblivion.

His love, safely by his side.

[whitneyyy369]

Looking for Hobbit fanfic on AO3

It was a Thorin x original female character where he teaches her about sex/pleasure. It starts off at Beorns house I believe. It was superrrr smuttty

[aaustinbutlerr]

thinking thoughts

[secretaccountlol]

"Sex pollen? Nah sex gas, er liquid..?"

Hi, I'm back to give you new fanfic, I'm really happy with this one.

this was written with no pronouns (other than 'they' obvi), for the smut I do use female anatomy.'

This is based off of tasm and comicverse spiderman :)

Anyways! this 18+ but, the sex is like waaaayyy down the line, I'll even mark when the smut starts so you can skip the sex if you'd like :)

Okay CW time!: Swearing, drugging? (the sex pollen lol), mention of Gwen's death (gotta add that angst), praise kink, lil teasing, pet names n nicknames wounds/blood mentioned (not graphic!), switch peter, switch reader, mention of loving boobs.

Summary!: After you and spidey try to figure out how to reverse the effect of a new gas goblin has created but things go south.

She's a loooong one!! (forgive me if there are some mistakes, one-man band)

3,856 WORDS OF PURE WHOLESOMENESS (and smut) BABBYYY

As always please comment, reblog, and like! I might write a sequel if you do!

your journey awaits my love <3

You twist the knobs on the microscope, and carefully notes are scattered around the walls of your lab. “Ah? Busy bee hmm?” You shriek, tripping over your chair, and you embrace for a hard fall. “Shit shit shit- I am so sorry, I did NOT mean to scare you like that!” you look up, The masked hero cradled you in his arms, his white lenses widened in horror. “I-it’s okay!” You leap outta his arms dusting yourself off. “Just been a Lil jumpy since the villain kidnapped me and all, haha..” you turn away from the costumed man. 

The whole reason you and spidey became friends recently is that you were kidnapped by Doc Ock. Somehow he got hold of some old studies of yours and thought he could use “another brilliant mind” of course you said no you weren’t gonna help with his evil conquests and then, well he kidnapped you, forcing you to help him kill Spider-Man. Then Spider-Man saved you but pretty banged up in the process, you felt pretty guilty so you decided to help him with his gear and occasionally with taking down criminals- with science of course! 

“Right right, sorry again..” you shrugged, still not facing him, pretending to be busy scribbling away so he won’t see your flushed face. A light thud hit the table, “I bought us tacos from your favorite place” you smile, you only told him about that place when you were trying to keep him from passing out from blood loss. You had read somewhere that you should keep talking to a patient to keep them from flatling, you were surprised he still remember considering he was fading in and out of consciousness. 

You turn to face him, “You only buy those when I’m gonna have to do extra hard work” you bite your lip as you speak, if he didn’t have a mask on you’d swear Spider-Man was checking you out. 

“I-uhm! Yeah haha, I do actually have work for you” he pulls out a vial from behind his back (where the fuck did he even hide-?) handing it to you, and you examine it holding it up to the light. “What is it?” 

Spidey tsked, pulling himself up on your desk to sit while pulling his mask up to chomp on a taco. “Well, it’s a liquid version of a gas the green goblin used today on a crowd of people when we were fighting.” He stated, swallowing a bit of taco. “Once they were sprayed they became incredibly violent. It took me 2 hours just to web everyone down!!” Your eyes widen and you put down the vial cautiously in a container. “It wore off after a while but, I think we should try to reverse engineer it, perhaps even make a calming spray to combat it..!” He pulls down his mask and dusts off his fingers. “Ready to get to work?” His white lenses half-lidded in question, you nod. “But first lemme eat some tacos I’m starving!”

-

You stretch, looking at all the progress you and the spider made. He had stepped out to do patrol, but he helped you make a lot of progress with the serum. Who knew he was so smart? You kinda assumed he was a jock, not like dumb, but not genius smart. You chew on your pencil, enough about Spidey, focus on the task at hand, Y/N. You stare blankly into the microscope again, the red liquid turned into a delectable bubblegum pink now. You and Spider-Man figured out a way to make the serum “attack” Serotonin receptors, effectively making it, well, a stronger “happy gas” to combat Goblin's next attack. 

You fall back into your chair sighing heavily, and you stare at the ceiling. You wish you could talk to him more, spidey only really came when he needed to pick your brain, “because two geniuses are better than one!”. You chuckle to yourself, It’s almost been a full year of knowing him now, your eyebrows knit in the thought of the times you had to patch him up at the lab and occasionally at your house. It took a while for you to open up to him, considering he’s a superhero they tend to attract trouble so you tried not to be TOO involved, strictly business on your side. Of course that didn’t last long, he was too sweet for you to keep playing coy. Yes, the time you spent with him was little and far in between but every laugh and stupid story he told in that short time made you fall more and more.

you liked him, like like him. 

You drag yourself up from the chair, scribbling the results of the serum before pouring the serum itself into a vial, sealing it. Not too long after you hear a THWIP! As you turn your head to face the masked man. “Hey look what the cat- holy shit are you okay?!” You run over to check on the wounded spider, you’ll never really get used to seeing him in pain like this. “D..Don’t worry, still kicking” he kinda groaned out as you helped him into the chair you were once sitting in. “Please don’t joke at times like this. Here sit like this it’ll keep pressure on your wound...” you quickly dismissed his remarks frantically looking for your first aid kit on your paper-filled desk. You could hear him shuffle a bit, you turn quickly to stop him, “Nononono don’t move if you do you’ll stop the pressure-!” Spider-Man pouts “You’ve patched me up before, I know” You lean on your desk about to scold him again when you lose your grip. 

Suddenly Spider-Man lunges towards you, you instinctively close your eyes, you hear a crash, and suddenly you feel a cool liquid drip down your back. “Shitshitshit!” You open your eyes to see a terrified spider-man, no, you didn’t- you couldn’t have, shit the happy gas- Well liquid? Fell on you! You get knocked out of your state of shock by Spider-Man’s groans again, gripping his side. You rush over to him, “I’m fin- healing already, it's just a flesh wound.” His hands whip towards you pressing his hands on your arms with a crushing force. “Weneedtoworryaboutyouthehappygasgotyouwhatare-” spider speaks faster than you can keep up. You try to calm him down by gripping his shoulder.

 “Spidey, sh. I'm fine! See??” You stood up quickly dusting yourself off, you helped him back on his feet as well. 

“God, this is all my fault. I should have been fast enough to catch you, I’m sorry” The masked hero ranted to the ground he was too ashamed to look in your eyes.

“It’s not your fault I’m clumsy, Webhead” you sighed, and looking back at your research, one test tube survived the fall. “Plus, I’m fine!” You gently grabbed his head lifting it to look into the white eyes (soulless) eyes. 

“See?” You start doing the robot dance, it was something he did when you were sad and always made you laugh. You get a small chuckle from the sad man, You pause carefully before continuing. 

“Spider, please be honest with me..That- catch me comment, that wasn’t really meant for me was it?” You're coaxing the answer out of him slowly, as he looks back at you and then back to the ground. 

“I- yeah.” He sighs, you don’t remember grasping his hands but somehow he holds your hand in a vice grip. “My, uhm. First love.. she died- I wasn’t fast enough to catch her, she-“ he stops himself, you from breaking away from his bruising grip to hug him pulling him to your chest. 

“It’s okay, we don’t need to talk about it anymore, okay?” He nods as steps away from you. “I’m sorry about- I shouldn’t tel- I don’t know why I-“ You put your hand up “Nope! We express our emotions here! You should never apologize for that. Especially considering all you do for this city.” You could tell he was smiling, even if you couldn’t see it. 

— (smut starts here)

You rush to get your feet to touch solid ground as Webhead gently sets you down on the fire escape, you’ll never get used to soaring through the sky. “T-thank you” you grip his chest, and his logo twists as you bunch it up, god you fucking hated heights. “I would open my window but I'm a little scared to move haha.” He exhaled through his nose, snickering. “Hey, hey I got you” he bends down as he pulls it open, you sit on the window seal and slide in, thankful to touch actual solid ground. Spiderman turns to leave but you grab his hand, “I-uhm.” Shit, you really didn’t have a plan to make him stay. “I- should check your wounds to make sure they’re okay.” He laughs.

“I assure you I’m fine, honey.” You felt a zing through your body straight to your clit, you have to stop yourself from moaning. God, keep it together! 

“I-uhm still would feel better if I check” you fiddle with your clothes letting go of his hand.

“Mm, I think it’s something else.” He sits on your window seal, and you step back. 

“I-well” you rock back and forward on your feet. 

“If you want me to stay, you don’t have to make an excuse y’know” you look up, his head is tilted at you, he hops down and closes the window. 

“Now what should we do now?” He clasped his hands together, you smiled so big your cheeks hurt. 

His hands landed on your shoulders squeezing you, and you felt that zing again. “Fuck” you muttered, you definitely have a waterfall in your pants now. What the hell is going on with you right now? Yeah, spider is hot but you’ve never been this horny over just his touch. 

“Hmm? What’s up?” spidey eyes quirked, and his hands slid down to your arms. You moaned, FUCK you moaned. You instantly pull away from him, “ IAMSOSORRYIDIDNT-ITI-“ you rushed out as many words as you could as he stood in bewilderment. 

“Hey, are you okay?” You tilt your head, and you rub your arm anxiously. “Y-yea uhm why wouldn’t I be haha..” you stutter out, he walks closer to you. “Your...eyes are very dilated.” He tries to take a step closer but you move back, this continues until you fall on the bed. 

“Gotcha! Now for the love of god just- please stay still” you fidget as he comes closer to examine you, you hear him mutter some mental notes to him before he slowly attempts to put his hand on your cheek, you immediately flinch and move away. “D-don’t touch me! ” you did not want another waterfall to happen tonight. You bit your lip, why were you acting like this? This is definitely not normal.. that’s when it hit you. The liquid, you and spiderman thought you only neuralized the angry effect on the liquid which is why nothing happened to you after it fell on you. I guess you could check that theory off, clearly, something was happening. 

“Spider-Man, the serum..I think it’s affecting me. When you touch me I get ..hot..” you could barely get words out.

“You- you should leave spidey, this could be dangerous, even contagious.” You hug yourself, the heat was getting unbearable but you couldn’t undress in front of him, that was a line you aren’t willing to cross, yet. You also needed to run a few tests on yourself to make sure this- sickness wasn’t permanent. 

“No! I don’t wanna leave you like this, this is my responsibility too. Let me help you” he held your face gingerly, and you bit your lip to keep from whimpering. “You feel so good on my skin..” you mutter to him. Wait- did oh god you said that out loud, that wasn’t supposed-.

The wall-crawler's eyes widened, “Oh?” You nodded “I’ve always wondered what you’d be like in bed, spider.” What the fuck are you saying?? Why can’t you control what’s coming out of your mouth?! 

“I-is that so?” He was strangely quiet. You move your head and give a lick to one of his digits, he makes a strangled groan. “I shouldn’t- you're sick..serum must be making you a-act” he moves his hand away but you grab his wrist before he can. “I’ve been liking you for a while now, Spiderman. I’ve just never had the guts to say it, this serum is giving me a boost in confidence, let’s say” you were so clear and concise, you couldn’t stop the words flowing from your fault. 

You could see Adam's apple move as he mulled it over, you crawled towards him, reaching for his mask. “Ah- wai-“ he grabs your hands at lighting speed. “Don’t worry spidey, I just wanna kiss you.” You whisper “Can I at least have that, hm?” You were gone, the you knew was locked up, the new you came out to play, apparently, they were very dominant and flirty.

 The masked hero nodded slowly, you slipped your hands under his mask pulling it lightly. His hands are still tightly banded around yours. You push a kiss lightly to his lips, and he drops your hands instantaneously in favor of putting them behind your head to deepen the kiss, soon you’re full-blown making out. 

He pulls away first, panting. “Shit.” His hands travel to your waist, and you shiver. “You were definitely right about this being contagious..” his hands roamed your body as he took you all in. 

“Mm, you are so beautiful like this. You were so cute asking me to stay earlier, I couldn’t resist teasing you about it.” 

Spider-Man’s voice was low and raspy as he pushed you down on the bed. “If I knew you wanted me to, I would have fucked your brains out 20 times by now, honey.” You moan as he unbuttoned your top. “I love the nicknames you give me, mm..” His hands glide on your skin. “Oh? Mm, you’re too cute” he chuckles. 

Suddenly you were back, well back to normal. “S-Spidey, god I’m so sorry I didn’t-“ you yelped as you felt teeth on your neck. “Hah, cute reaction.” Holy shit.. Spider-Man, New York’s friendly neighbor Spider-Man was literally on top of you, giving you a hickey. 

“Sp-spidey I- mm” his tongue traveled lower to your breast. “This is in my way” you hear a snap as your bra is ripped off you, and you gasp covering yourself immediately. 

 “Hm? What’s wrong you were so into this a minute ago?” He sat back a bit to look at you, you squirm under his eyes, he thinks. “Tsk. Oh, I see the serum made you have a pseudo personality to make you get laid then you revert back to yourself when the process is put in motion..” he stated you cocked your brow. “You thought that up in 30 seconds?”

 He nodded. “Well I am still Spider-Man, consider me to be his ego.” He dips back down to kiss your neck, as he pries your hands off your boobs. “Mm- Wait-! what if he doesn’t want this?” Spider-Man pulls back to hover over you, and he smirks. 

“Really? Do you truly think he doesn’t want to fuck you? He’s literally had a thing for you since you met. Sweetheart, I can’t make this body do anything that it doesn’t. I’m a reflection of his desire.” You feel like a hot coal, and he’s the fire. “Oh..but- why haven’t you changed back yet?” Spider-Man groans. 

“God you ask a lot of questions, I guess that’s partly why he likes you..Mm, basically I have the controls now, and mm I don’t wanna give it back, quite yet .” He pauses to give you another hickey, on your breast. “Give you a spin before I do, darling. Now enough talking.” 

Spider-Man hand slips in your underwear, and arch your back. Your senses are still very heightened, “Aw, I have even started rubbing your clit” he kissed the side of your mouth. “P-please.” You whisper to him, “please make me feel..good, spidey.” You could feel his dick harden more in his spandex. 

“Fuck, you have no idea what you do to me.” He frantically pulled his suit as you do the same to your pants. You looked at each other, his body was insane, he was beautifully sculpted, and you gulped. “Did I-? Wha-oh god.. I thought I was just dreaming again.” Spider-Man quickly covered his very large cock you giggle. “ You dreamed about fucking me?” You tease. “I-I mean- sometimes but like not in a weird way I would never-..well..uh..shit” he rubbed his head sheepishly. 

You both stare at each other before you speak up again. 

“Well, we-.. should finish what we started d-don’t you think?” You spluttered out. 

“Are you sure..we..I-“ His lips were moving but nothing was coming out. God, at this point you just wanna get laid. 

“Look! We both know what we wanna do to each other!! We basically confessed already!! Let’s just.. fuck already!” He looked at you stunned before, slowly getting back on the bed with you, laughing. “Mm, I guess you know what you want huh?” He teased you. “Well..I had some time to figure it out..” you flushed. His hand hovered over your breast, and you nod. He knead your beast softly, as he licked and prodded them. “So beautiful. I love them, I love you” he looks at you through his lenses, you could feel the love. “I love .. you too, though I’ve never seen your face. But I guess that proves I do love you for you.” You whisper, as he sits up, he stares at you for a moment before ripping off his mask like a second skin. 

In front of you is this gorgeous man, with slightly long brown hair, delicious chocolate eyes, and the cutest nervous smile. 

“A-are you okay? You’re being very quiet.” His voice was small. “Oh! I-I’m perfect, you're perfect.” you caress his cheek, and he closes the distance as he slips his hands down. You moan in his mouth as he toys with your clit, you buck up grinding against it, “Can I eat you out?” His voice was light, and you nod. “Honey I need verbal communication.” He moved down your body as he spoke, opening your legs but not keeping his eyes level with yours. You squeak a bit “Y-yes, please eat me out, spidey” you covered your face with your hands looking through the cracks of your fingers. “Actually, my name is Peter, Peter Parker .” You beam, “Well hello Peter, nice to meet you.” You chuckled, ruffling his hair as he softly lowered himself down, you jumped as he licked one long stride up. “You taste wonderful” before you could reply he sucked your clit. “Oh god, Peter!” You threw your head back, “Shit- you’re so-Mm” you tugged on his hair as he buried his mouth deeper into you, that’s when his fingers felt his fingers fill you with a delicious ache. 

“Oh my god- Peter!” You thrashed around, Peter put his hands on your legs to keep you in place. “Wai- I’m gonna cum, S-Stop!” He pulled away, a string of cum and saliva stuck to his mouth, he grins his eyes low. “Well that’s the point, It’ll make it easier for you cum later on my cock.” His fingers started pumping and curling into you again, you threw your head back again, whimpering, and you whining his name. “It’s okay, let it go” his voice soothes your burning soul, and you unconsciously ball up. “Shh, that’s it come on” you couldn't even moan, you just shuddered as you finally came. He lazily kissed your lips as you recovered. 

“I-I think I’m ready for you, n-now” you stare at him, and he smiles back as he leans back rubbing your pussy, to get some of your juices to pump his cock with. He lines himself up with yourself. He slowly pushed himself into you, His moans were delectable, and his hands found yours as he leaned over you. “Move, plea- god.. please move.” You groan, and he obliges. 

“Fuck, I feel like I’m gonna cum already. You feel amazing. My god, you know that? You're amazing, y’know?” He rambles, you mewl. “You are too, spidey- mm. God you’re- so so good at th-this. I-I'm -fuck.. I’m gonna cum a-again.” You seize up, Peter rubs your clit in circles and you buck against it, whining harshly. “P-Peter! Please- t-too much” you come feel yourself go numb. “Shh baby, just feel it.“ your eyes closed as you came again, and you pant. 

“I’m not done with you yet, Hold on just a little more baby.” His voice was husky. You chuckled and nod “You and your inhuman st-stamina” Peter smiled touching his nose with yours. “Hey love, uhm- are you on? “ you snickered “Yes I’m on birth control. No worries, don’t wanna have any mini spideys around here” he chuckles as he starts Impaling you once more, and you gasp. “Holy fuck you’re so big-“ you gasp once more, gripping his arms. “Mm s-sorry” Peter groaned. “N-no it’s a good thing, oh-!” You start seeing stars as he slams into you once more. 

“Good, mm- I’m almost there-“ he was breathless, your hands rubbing through his hair. “I-I can take it, p-please. Cum in me please, Peter.” Peter replies with a guttural moan as he pounds into you. You finally feel it, as his seed fills you, you see white, gripping his shoulder as you cum again. 

(Smut ends here)

You jolt up, promptly regretting it as your sore body compels you back down on your bed, you grunt. You look down, an arm wrapped around your waist. What? Whose? How-? The mystery figure groans. Oh shit- you fucked Spider-Man last night. Well, Peter, he said his name was Peter. 

“Morning love” you cast your eyes down again, He looked like a god with the sun rays on his face. His hands brushed against your face, “Morning Peter” 

“So- I.. wanted to take you on a date to this coffee shop around the corner.” He traced circles on your skin and you hummed at the sensation. “Mm yeah that sounds nice, I’d love to go on a date with you.” You laugh. “Plus afterward, we can figure out how to not make a powerful sex potion.” He poked your nose, snorting at your joke. “Mm, I dunno I thought you liked it?” His eyes crinkled as you covered your hands up with your face. “God Peter no more teasing I’m already still cringing from what I said last night!” Both of you burst out laughing. 

“Come on, let's go get some breakfast.” He sat up. “Check in the drawer I have some guy clothes in there from an ex a long time ago.” He nods that you're thankful he didn’t ask questions. You do the same, putting on some clothes. 

You two hold hands as you both step outside, “Ready to face the world again, Spider-Man?” Peter nods. “I am when you're by my side.”  

[marinas-dumpsterfire-deactivate]

Yep, here’s the indulgent early 1950’s Elvis Electrician Fic all of six people begged for…

Summary: I adore the notion that Elvis Freakin’ Presley himself might have shown up at your doorstep to fix your electrical problems in the early 50’s. The concept that all that untapped charisma and talent and beauty could be found just going about his business, helping housewives with their glitches…well, this came out of the imagining of what one such call might look like. And if it devolved into poorly written Southern Gothic literature, blame Eudora Welty. 🥰. Also, A Streetcar Named Desire may have influenced my artistic choice of copious descriptions of a sticky southern summer and the feelings they can provoke. This hasn’t been proofread by any eyes except my own exhausted ones. Cheers.

Summer in Memphis is a sticky, windless, oppressive thing, only relieved by the occasional swim, creaking fans and a chilled beverage held to the throat. The ice box is revered as a savior during these months and those nights the electricity shorts out due to the thunderstorms rolling across the Mississippi are spent in anxious fretting that it would turn on again by morning. But by ten o’clock this morning there’s no such luck, even though the lines have been fixed you’ve been told it’s a problem closer in.

Probably in the house.

Exactly the sort of problem your Billy would have solved himself with no extra cost but the odd washer or wire.

But Billy’s not here so instead you’ve got Crown Electric sending out whoever they deem expendable enough to waste on fixing a housewife’s ice box.

If it’s Marvin they send, you just might flip -you appreciate the man but haven’t any patience for that or him. Not today, not on top of milk going rancid and your baby girl having a pathetic breakfast before school. You can’t mend Marvin’s pants any faster for all that he mows your lawn. The lawn you pay him to mow. The lawn he owns as your landlord anyhow -oh and there’s the sound of the Crown truck coming to a stop on the drive.

You acknowledge that staring at the ice box won’t do much good so you go to the screen door in time to see a whole lotta leg swing out from the drivers seat.

You’re not sure you’ve ever appreciated a pair of legs so much as you do this blazing morning, and as they stretch out you have an epiphany of sympathy for the wolf whistles you yourself have received on windy days.

This pair goes on for miles, and they’re owned by an eager, doll-faced boy.

Heavens, is this his first job? At least it isn’t Marvin and you won’t be pestered about rent or mending, but wether or not a man who favors pink socks under his drab olive work-suit can fix a problem that’s befuddled many a handyman before him -well, that remains to be seen.

He’s halfway up the drive when he catches sight you of behind the screen door, his face animates and he jogs up the rest of the way. Taking the front steps two at a time.

You push the door open.

In the shade of your doorstep his complexion looks softer than any of your sister’s and you’re greeted by the same expression you see each morning when you wake your young daughter up -a desire to please. The effect is a little unsettling on a grown man, so obviously well proportioned, towering over you and decked out in a rough handyman’s attire.

“They said you’ve got an outage ma’am?”

“Yes, couldn’t fix it with the lines apparently.”

“Probably just the lightening shorted somethin’ out.” He assures you, voice going ever so gentle, like he’s comforting someone deeply bereaved.

Like he’s gonna fix all your troubles by turning the ice box and fans back on.

That won’t cure all your troubles, but it would be a start, a way for you to handle the rest.

“May I come in?” He adds softly when you say nothing.

You’re still standing in the doorway, unconsciously guarding it as you’ve been doing since you got that wretched telegram in ‘44. Nine years ago. Nine years and no one but relatives and Marvin when collecting the rent have crossed the threshold since.

Certainly no long limbed boy with hair as black as Billy’s and the intention of helping you around the house. Fixing the house, rather. No, damn it, just the electricity like it’s his job to do.

Just as Billy would have done if Billy were here.

This ain’t Billy, Billy had an earnest, sweet face and none of this boy’s ripe prettiness. Billy never talked softly either.

“Yeah, yeah, of course, right this way -what’s you’re name?”

“Elvis…Presley, ma’am.”

“Welcome to the oven, Elvis.”

The house has become a swampy inferno and though the windows are open the curtains hang limp, there isn’t a breeze between all these houses packed close together. It’s stifling under the low ceiling and whatever fresh look he had maintained flying down the road in his aired-out truck is melting now.

“Downright nasty in here.” He comments, and then he grins at you as the sweat begins to collect atop his cupid’s bow. “No wonder you’re out of sorts.”

“Yeah that’s gotta be it.” You manage to return the grin, ignoring the insinuation, “And spoilt milk always makes me testy.”

“You kept your ice box closed?”

“Sure have.”

“Then it might be alright. Only been off a few hours, right?”

“Since midnight.”

“Well, then, should be fine.” He’s got that comforting voice going on again and you reckon that either there’s an old soul in that daisy fresh face or else he’s spent most of his young life reassuring somebody. Reassurance flows from him naturally, and for once, you don’t feel like shrugging the comfort off.

And there’s a strange clench in your heart at how long it’s been since you let someone metaphorically pat your back and tell you everything will turn out right. You’ve got lots of relations and a few friends who busy themselves and you with worrying about how you’re gonna manage to raise your daughter, earn a living and climb far enough out of the fog of widowhood to be considered socially acceptable again. It’s nice that some boy who’s never had his guts ripped open overseas wants to restore your ice box to you and make everything alright again. It’s precious that he thinks that’ll do it.

You’ve been pondering too long and now you’ve got a frog lodged in your throat and it ought to be awkward but he doesn’t look away, he just shyly peaks down at you under copious lashes and smiles encouragingly. “The electrical panel is in one of the bedroom closets, I’m guessin’?”

“In the Master.”

“Alright then.”

You usher him back to the stuffy little room that's glowing orange from the drapes trying to block out the noonday sun.

You’d pulled some clothes out of the closest beforehand to make it easier for him to reach the panel. When you’d done that you were imagining Marvin or man of his stubby frame working on it, but Elvis is unfazed, he just gracefully folds his long limbs into a squat in the tiny cubby and cranes his neck until he level with the panel. He’s got his tool kit balanced on one thigh and he gives you a thumbs up to suggest your presence is no longer needed. He is starting to look as miserably sticky as you feel, his black hair turning somehow darker with sweat.

His lips pucker up as he starts unscrewing a bolt. It’s rather obscene.

“Would you like some lemonade?” You’re offering as you need some yourself.

He looks startled you’re still standing there but after a minute’s hesitation he asks: “is it pipin’ hot?”

You laugh and he immediately looks pleased with himself. Damn, he’s so young. “I’m gonna crack open the ice box” you explain.

His humored look flees and earnest blue eyes go round in protest. “Ma’am I haven’t fixed this yet! I just got in here!”

“I know, silly,” you swat the air at him, “take it as a sign of faith you’ll manage it.”

He grins back, and a man squatting in a sweltering closet oughtn't to look that alluring. You assure yourself it’s just the domesticity of the whole thing. Billy changing a bulb or scrubbing a dish or hanging Christmas lights that one Christmas you had him to yourself -that’s the stuff that made you throw yourself at Billy in the mid afternoon of a balmy work day.

Raven haired young Elvis might work for the electrical company and be earning a commission with each moment of his work day you waste but if you squint a bit, he could be a beautiful boy who wanted to wife you up and give you babies and rub your feet when you’d been on them all day.

Lately you’ve gone out of the habit of assuming someone who looks as fresh as he does would be eyeing up a sweat soaked war widow, but young Mr. Presley had either never been shamed for his lack of subtly or never bothered to hide it because while his looks were tender, they weren’t respectful in the proper sense. You only wished you could see his revering expression as you sauntered away from him back into the kitchen.

The ice box was tolerably cool for having been kept shut. The milk was safe for now but would spoil sooner for the dip in temperature. That waste didn't rankle you as much as it had an hour ago. The thought “that’s alright” actually made it past your lips for the first time in months and you couldn’t help but marvel that you might have lost a bit of your cantankerous streak on the front steps.

With a sudden swoosh and rattle the small pedastol fan on the kitchen counter top buzzes back to life, and the light in the ice box clicks on.

You whoop: “you’ve done it!”

Heavy footfalls come out of the back bedroom and Elvis comes into view with a bewildered look on his face: “You haven’t got a A.C. unit ma’am?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Oh you should!” He warms up to the argument, “They make the air crisper than anything, sucks the river mist right out the air.”

“Not gonna be able to manage that on a war widow’s pension.” You retort nonchalantly, handing him a glass of chilled lemonade which he took slowly and carefully, eyeing you over the rim.

“So that’s what happened.” His voice goes soft again.

“What do you mean?”

“You seem so sad. That’s what started it?”

If he stays this empathetic for the rest of his life he’ll end up burned out and hollow before he hits fifty. He has no business looking out to solve every hurting person’s problems, not when he is so obviously lost himself.

“Three days into the Normandy campaign, at least that’s what they told me.” You've explained your husbands absence many times in the same way, but you aren’t sure you ever had a more sympathetic audience than this boy who is pressing the beaded lemonade glass to his cheek and looking at you like he knows exactly what it’s like to have your sweetheart get burned up by a nazi flamethrower. He doesn’t say a word of comfort on the matter, he doesn’t need to, his eyes show it all and his lips part and he murmurs:

“But he gave you a child?”

“He sure did, bless him. Her name’s June,” your lips quirk up just at the thought of her “my baby girl. She’ll be turning nine, day after tomorrow.”

The sorrow has gone off his face and he looks like he’s scheming now, and somehow that’s the most alarming expression to yet grace his features. He leans in across the kitchen counter, all familiar like, and that’s worse than anything: “Tell me, Mrs. Cartwright, yeah, see I caught your name in the directory -but, tell me, does your June like to swim?”

“Loves it almost as much as watermelon.”

You know you must look wary, but the last time a man leaned over a bar and eyed you up in this way you ended up married to him. Actually, scratch that. Billy was a darling and a delightful flirt but he didn’t have one ounce of the raw, unconscious danger this boy holds in his pinky finger alone.

“I’ve got a heap of cousins,” he begins quite randomly, “ranging all ages, and we’ve got a watering hole we found just south of town where the trees keep it all cool and the farmer doesn’t mind us so long as we don’t upset the cows. And I’ve got a truck, you see, and I was thinkin’ when you needed to cool off you could come join us. My mama would love to make a picnic out of little June’s birthday, I just know she would. What do you say to that?”

“Mr. Presley, I don’t know you nor your cousins. And I’m sure your mama is real nice but-“

“Right, because I reckon otherwise you get out a lot these days.” You hardly expected that amount of snark coming from so earnest a face, and it takes you aback.

You try a different route. “Why?”

“Because I’d like to see you smiling and wet from something besides sweat.” It’s a sweet sentiment, if it didn’t come from a man eyeing you up like he had been these past five minutes.

“I don’t know about her birthday,” you give in a little, “my parents always like to be around for it and she likes them to be.”

“Of course, of course” he nods. “And she doesn’t know me.”

“No she doesn’t.” It kills you to turn this down but you aren’t one to go do things your child isn’t interested in in her name.

“Tell her about the swimmin’ hole, then” he says all easy and confident as he straightens himself up from the counter and chugs the lemonade down, “and I’ll be back day after tomorrow with an extra valve so this don’t happen again. No need for it going off every time the rice fields get some rain.”

You’re clutching your glass to your chest and not even the icy chill against your sticky breast can make your heart stop thumping. “You’ve gotta come back?”

“I suppose I could ask Marvin to come instead.” He shrugs a tad too nonchalant, and looks away from you as he maneuvers around you to place his glass in the sink like the good, house tamed boy that he is. Except you’re very afraid you’ve miscalculated and welcomed a wolf in when you thought you were entertaining a lamb.

“How do you know about Marvin?” You demand.

“I work with him?” He replies hesitantly, brows and lips drawn up and eyes glittering with concern at your tone.

“No, no” you smack him lightly on the bicep and realize your mistake when he breaks out into a dimpled smile, “I meant why did you smirk when you said that he could come instead of you?”

“You’d rather your landlord come by and see your still in the back?” He’s cocky now, a hip jutted out against the cabinets.

“How the hell did you notice that?” You cried out, half laughing, half outraged, “You weren’t back in that bedroom longer than ten minutes.”

“I’s just curious what type of moonshine you were makin’.” He mutters, smirk barely wavering. “I’d never judge nobody for how they make ends meet.”

“Alright, you can come back.”

“Marvin talks about you, ya know.” He tosses this piece of information out there real cooly. You nearly get whiplash from how fast he changes direction, “Told me you’re a marvelous woman who takes care of the whole block but won’t let no one take care of you.”

You aren’t sure you’re comforted by the fact his tender smile is still in place. But you’re glad that he doesn’t seem to taste an awkward moment when it smacks him in the face. You find you like talking with him about these long neglected subjects.

“Marvin’s alright.” You concede. “He helps me out plenty. And now there’s you. And I thank you for fixing my fans.”

To prove your point you turn from him and rest your elbows on the countertop, leaning to push your face up to the blast of the little pedestal fan, letting your hair fly wildly around you.

Somewhere behind you, you can hear him chuckle. It sounds alarmingly close. “It’s made my day.” You say, voice distorted by the force of the whirring blades.

That’s when you feel him drape himself over you, his chest a centimeter away from your sticky back and an elegant hand on each side of yours against the counter. His voice warbles just as funny thanks to the fan when he says: “Mrs. Cartwright, I’m gonna get you a Chrysler air cooling system, just you wait and see.”

Presumably he’s draped himself over the length of you to get in the direct line of the fan’s breeze, but you doubt there’s any other man at Crown Electric who’d dare act on that impulse as he has.

“Oh are ya now?” You don’t even have to try to sound incredulous. You are incredulous he’d dare do this, that he’d read you so well to know you’re starving for a little closeness in this soggy kitchen. “Well, that’s real sweet of you, Elvis. How on earth are you gonna manage that?”

Why he, a stranger, would buy you such a thing is left unasked. Again, it feels domestic and you want to hold onto that fuzzy feeling for a moment longer. Also, you’re desperately trying to keep still, one tiny shift or move and you’ll brush up against some part of him, and at this point you’re not sure there’s an inch of this man that’s benign. Playing along seems safer than trying to disentangle.

His head dips down and the strands of his hair tickle the tips of your ear as his voice drops low:

“I’m gonna make a lotta money, ma’am.”

“Oh? Is there any money left in Memphis?”

He giggles then, and he never sounded more boyish than when he did that, his voice bouncing off the tinny fan. “Dunno how I’ll manage but it’ll involve singin” he takes one hand from the countertop and pats your hip familiarly, and right then any bit of deniability on your part goes out the window because you don’t correct him for it.

“‘Cause we’re so short on singers in Memphis?” You tease instead, wishing you sounded less interested. Less gasping.

“Yeaaaaaah baaaaaaaaby” he hollers above you into the fan, laughing again as it spooks you and you jerk back, right into the lanky breadth of him.

There’s a brief wrestling match after that involving you trying to get away from his lithe limbs as fast as you can and him trying to keep you from toppling over by wrapping his lean arms around your shoulders.

That stills you.

No one’s rested their chin atop your head in nearly a decade, and you could sob in frustration that it’s that little motion of his that makes you hungry and angry all at once.

You coulda had this. You had it for one good year. You could have it again if the whole block wouldn’t gape at the fact you were robbing the damn cradle.

Young Mr. Presley seems to have a taste for housewives pushing towards thirty and you aren't too proud to deny you’ve suddenly grown an attraction for earnest boys who just wanna make life sweeter. You two could write a gentle fiction, however brief.

“I wanna see you happy,” he mutters soft in your ear, “tell me you’ll let me come around again. I want some of that moonshine at the very least.”

“I’ll tell you what, Elvis,” you place your hands atop his forearms, leaning back, “you come around, meet my June, fix that washer business and I’ll feed ya a good meal while you tell her ‘bout that watering hole.”

“Really?” He’s beaming and you crane your neck back further so you can see it clearly. It’s a sight to be admired. “Day after tomorrow, that’ll work?”

“Yeah it’ll work.” His unabashed joy gives you the upper hand for a moment and you do the safe thing, pulling away and giving him a once over. “Tell me, does that nice mama of yours know you go round putting moves on widows?”

He has the audacity to blush at that, looking down at the floor, abashed for the first time since this shameless encounter. “She worries they’ll be the ones putting the moves on me.” And he rolls his eyes as if that sensible woman were delusional. “She taught me to try to bring people joy.”

“Can’t imagine why she’d worry.” You say dryly. “Now, you scoot, I’ve got mending to do.”

He wakes up at that, grabbing his tool kit and ducking his head not to hit the low ceiling as he makes his way to the front door. You trail after him enjoying the view of something so virile and alive in your house.

“So, see you day after tomorrow?” He looks more vulnerable outside, not so sultry in the glow of blazing sunlight, and the anticipation of somebody wanting to see you puts a pep in your tone, brightens your face -you can feel it, and see it mirrored in his.

“Yeah,” you lean against the frame, “and after that…”

“Yeah?”

You let him fidget for a moment, “after that you’ll show me how you plan on getting me that A.C. Unit.”

He snaps his fingers and points at you, “I’ll bring my guitar then.”

“Oh yes, you’d better.”

He’s halfway back to his truck when he spins around and takes a few steps back towards you, “Say, d’you play anything?”

It’s been awhile and you’re rusty but you reckon you’re about to begin indulging in many long abandoned pastimes so you tell him: “Harmonica.”

“Ah,” he sways back on his feet, going back to his truck only to turn, one foot on the runner boards, looking at you admiringly. “You’ve got the lips for it.”

[xxbunny-luv]

The Actor & I - Masterlist

This is the masterlist for a very long, SLOW BURN series on Austin Butler and a Production Assistant on set of Elvis (2022). The plan is to follow our main character and Austin through the production of Elvis up to the film’s release. So buckle in, it’ll be a long journey! It’s my first time writing fic, so apologies if it’s not the best!

In first person perspective! Character’s name is Anastasia (goes by Ana) and is starting a new job at Warner Brothers the same time Austin Butler is cast in Elvis! The fic will follow Ana as she navigates her new job and new feelings for Austin. Anything italicized is main character’s thoughts! Warnings: Starts out just Fluff w/ mild language! Eventually warnings will include: Spoilers for Elvis (2022), language, smut, jealousy, possessiveness, dirty talk (Will turn very NSFW! Will add more warnings as it gets there 🤪 (If i missed anything, please comment so i can add!) Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven Part Twelve Part Thirteen Part Fourteen

Moodboard 1 Moodboard 2 Moodboard 3 Moodboard 4 Moodboard 5 Moodboard 6

Current schedule will be two posts a week unless my IRL job gets in the way! If you’d like to be on the tag list, please just let me know and I’ll add you! I’m so excited to see anyone enjoying this! Please, if you like this, share it, comment, like it and enjoy! xx

[dilfbuckymyhips-deactivated2023]

p*rn linkssss (stranger things)

includes: Jonathan Byers, Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington and Billy Hargrove

18+ minors DNI pls <3

Warning: Cumplay, creampie, overstimulating, Gagging, squirting, choking, exhibitionist kink. anything that I'm missing pls comment below <3

THANK YOU !!! ENJOY <3

‐------------------‐------------------‐------------------‐------------------‐-------------

Eddie Munson

dom!Eddie fucks you infront of mirror

riding Eddie until he cums inside you

dom!Eddie Wax play and Knife play

fucking yourself on Eddie's cock

Eddie bring you to a squirting orgasm

Steve Harrington

you and Steve make each other cum

Steve feeling you up

jerking off Sub!Steve

Calling your bestfriend while Steve is fucking you

Billy Hargrove

Dom!Billy absolutely ruining you

Billy using your throat as a toy

Teasing Sub!Billy with your pussy

Billy cumming into your mouth

Jonathan Byers

Jonathan fucking into you

Jonathan teasing you with the tip of his cock

squirming as Jonathan eats you out

Overstimulating Sub!Jonathan

<3

[natti-ice-deactivated20221207]

Stranger Things porn links!

2k followers special!

Thank you so much for 2k, I literally don’t know what to say because this is totally insane! I’ve gained so much attention recently and I can’t thank you all enough! I will be doing a SFW celebration as well!

Male character edition! Female characters here!

Warning: all links contain porn!

Includes: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Argyle, Billy Hargrove, Jim Hopper, Dmitri “Enzo” Antonov, Peter “001” Ballard

Navigation

Steve Harrington:

Looking into Steve eyes while he fucks you

Riding Steve on a chair

Bestfriend!Steve fingering you

Making Steve cum without fucking him

Eddie Munson:

Eddie fucking you in a skirt

Making sub!Eddie cum on himself

Riding Eddie in a field

Eddie fucks you while watching hentai

Argyle:

Argyle pulling your hair while he fucks you

Fucking Argyle on the beach

Argyle fucks your soaked pussy

Dealer!Argyle fingers you

Billy Hargrove:

Billy cums on you

Enemy!Billy fucks you in a headlock

Dom!Billy smacks you around Tw:spitting & face slapping

Billy fingers you in the car

Jim Hopper:

You and sugar daddy!Jim make the bed squeak

Sucking off coworker!jim at the office

Riding on Jim’s face

Jim makes you squirt

Dmitri “Enzo” Antonov:

Rubbing your pussy on BFD!Dmitri

Thigh fucking Dmitri

Dmitri fucks your titties

Dmitri chocking you while pounding you

Peter “001” Ballard:

Boyfriend!Peter’s dick makes you shake

Peter throat fucks you

Enemy!Peter fingers you hard

Face riding sub!Peter

Tags: @angelzone @residentmattysimp @dammit-rafa @rayzerzs @lazydreamer19 @s111ut @rileyssideblog @imabee-oralizard @clandestine-nerd @hellotheregeneral222 @bleuatlas @amylavin32 @crabat-the-queen @blueberrymxchii @lagataprrr @ireadstoriesnotmakethem @whatinthefreshhellisthis @strangerharrington @stevieswhore @littlemisstrouble @candiceyau @axxochiisstuff @gsoyj @maddie77777 @jjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjsstuff @haiishodenki

[whitneyyy369]

Tear In My Heart Chapter Three

My take on The Amazing Spider-Man 3 :TASM Peter Parker x MJ

This is set before NWH

Warnings: slight age gap, eventual smut, violence, language, eventual NWH spoilers, poor attempt of slow burn

Word count: 4,691

Inspired song for chapter: Life Goes On - Fergie

“ life goes on with or without you

It’s up to you what you’re gonna do

You could go or you could stay

Who cares anyway”

CHAPTER THREE

*okay so I’ve been trying to think of how MJ looks and when I think of it, I think of her face as Emmy Rossum with her hair curly hair

(MJ with hair up)

(MJ with hair down)

“Okay so we should meet up the afternoon before the party so we can do makeup and hair,” Jenny clapped her hands together enthusiastically, “I’m glad you’re coming, MJ.”

MJ gave a nervous smile back, “It’s been a while since I went to a party.”

“It’ll be fun, MJ, I’m just proud you’re going to attempt it,” Jenny said, her smile she wore gave MJ even more courage to go

It wasn’t that MJ hated parties. They made her a little uneasy, but every time she’d go, once she had a drink or two she could unwind and have fun. It was the initial thought and arrival that she dreaded.

“You’re right, Jenny, I need to be more..out there. I’ve been isolating myself too much,” MJ admitted, while tugging a curl on one side of her head.

“We used to go out all the time, until that one night right after graduation when we snuck out,” Jenny said softly looking down.

MJ flinched.

Jenny looked up carefully at her friend, “I really am sorry about that night, I shouldn’t have encouraged you to sneak out-“

“No,” MJ forced out, “It’s not your fault, please don’t blame yourself on how my asshole of a father reacted, it’s all in the past anyways.”

MJ stared upwards at the darkening sky above them. The two girls had both had Saturday off and decided to go to Jenny’s house for dinner. After dinner they went to sit outside on her patio to enjoy the city lights, and crisp breeze that swept over New York.

Jenny reached over to squeeze MJ’s hand.

“I know it’s in the past, but do you?”

MJ sighed while looking back down to meet Jenny’s spirited blue eyes, “What do you mean? It is in the past.”

“You say it’s in the past, but you haven’t moved on. For things to be in the past you have to move forward.”

“Jenny I’m fine, it really doesn’t affect me anymore.”

Jenny gave a huff, “MJ, you and I both know you haven’t moved on. You’re stuck. What happened when we were younger still affects you. You don’t have that…light in your eyes anymore. You’ve just been trying to ignore it all, and it’s not healthy.”

MJ felt her eyes sting as they welled up slightly. Breathing deeply, she took her hand from Jenny, and brought her thumb to her mouth and bit it slightly. She had always done that to stop the tears, it always worked.

“Have you heard from your dad?” Jenny asked timidly.

MJ gave a shaky laugh, “No, and if he’s smart enough he won’t ever try to reach out to me again.”

Jenny gave a soft nod, before reaching for the wine to refill both their glasses, “I’m sorry, I know it’s hard to talk about, I just worry about you sometimes.”

“I know, and I do appreciate that, I really do,” MJ responded as she took a big gulp of her wine.

Jenny looked over at MJ once more, studying her, and then gave a long sigh before smiling slightly.

“What?” MJ asked.

“Nothing it’s just I’ve been noticing you wearing your hair down more often, it looks nice.”

MJ flushed, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Jenny rolled her eyes, “MJ you’ve literally been wearing your hair up every day for years.”

MJ tugged at her hair, her cheeks burned, “well maybe I’m just trying to listen to you more.”

“Oh yeah?” Jenny laughed, all previous tension had slipped the room with that laugh, “Couldn’t be because of a guy, right?”

MJ’s mouth dropped slightly, “What? No way.”

“And this said guy's name wouldn’t happen to rhyme with Beater Barker, would it?”

MJ tugged at her hair again, heat spread from her ears all the way to her neck, “Peter and I are just friends Jenny, you know that!”

“Aww so that did bring Peter to mind?” Jenny teased.

“Yeah, totally, couldn’t be the awful rhyme you did.”

“MJ you can’t tell me you aren’t attracted to him, he is cute.”

MJ covered her face with her hands, “Yes, he is extremely attractive, anyone with eyes could see that.”

Jenny tilted her head, “Girl, you’ve met him two weeks ago, and since then you’ve meeting up at the library with him-“

“We've only met up four times since then, he’s helping me with math and science,” MJ interjected, while peeking through her fingers.

“Is that why the two times I’ve crashed your “study sessions” you two are all giggly and being cute together?”

MJ threw her hands up, “He’s just my friend!”

“Luke says Peter’s been mentioning you an awful lot,” Jenny said while inspecting one of her hands with a smirk crossing her face.

“What?!?”

“Okay, I admit I exaggerated, but he did mention you twice!”

“Jenny with how much you’ve been mentioning him, maybe you have a confession,” MJ snarked back.

Jenny rolled her eyes, “Hmm he’s cute, but awkward geeky boys aren’t exactly my type.”

“You’re literally dating a geek.”

“You’re saying Luke acts like Peter?”

MJ thought about that, “Okay, no he doesn’t.”

Lucas Burr was extremely smart, but when you looked at him you wouldn’t assume he was a science major. He seemed very much like a stereotypical jock, but once you get to know him you realize he is not. Sure he enjoyed sports, but he somehow balanced it with his deep love of science. Everything about him was balanced. It was one thing that drew Jenny in. Among other things.

He treated Jenny better than anyone. He was her number one supporter, and he would do anything for her. They also looked incredibly good together. When together, based on looks, they gave off Ken and Barbie vibes. But with intellectuality.

“Luke even thinks you two would be great together,” Jenny said while sipping her wine with a wink.

MJ groaned, “Please don’t play matchmaker with me, with Luke. It was bad enough with just you, but adding Luke in makes it somehow even worse.”

“We’re just looking out for you!”

“You better not make things weird,” MJ glared at Jenny, “He’s just my friend.”

“But you’re compatible!”

MJ shook her head laughing, “Please tell me your not talking about horoscopes.”

“He’s a leo, and you’re a Gemini,” Jenny waved her hand, flipping her golden hair behind her.

“Okay?”

“According to what I read, and yes I read up on your compatibility for you, since he’s a fire sign, and you’re an air sign it makes you both passionate. They say your signs together are one of the most romantic signs together,” Jenny explained, a eager smile spread across her face, “Just accept fate, you’re meant to be.”

MJ gave a heavy sigh, and reached for her glass, but to her disdain it was empty.

“Want a refill?” Jenny smirked.

MJ rolled her eyes, “Give me the damn bottle.”

Jenny passed the bottle across the small patio table, “You know it says your signs are so compatible that you have passionate, hot sex.”

MJ’s mouth dropped as she opened the bottle, “Jenny!”

“What?” Jenny asked innocently, “I bet he’s good in bed. You know what they say about tall and skinny boys.”

MJ took a deep breath before taking a big gulp straight from the bottle.

“Mary-Jane Watson!” Jenny threw her head back, her laughter filled the night sky.

MJ blushed, setting the bottle down, “Can you blame me?”

Ding

Both girls looked at MJ’s phone.

MJ shot her hand out to grab her phone, but Jenny was faster.

Jenny squealed, “It’s Peter!”

“Okay? Big deal he texts me sometimes,” MJ tried to reason

Jenny rolled her eyes, before handing MJ her phone back.

Peter Parker

What did the coffee lover name her son?

MJ felt a smile across her face as she read the message. Peter had been making it a point to tell her a cheesy joke every day since the day they exchanged phone numbers, they primarily were coffee jokes, and even though they were extremely cheesy it still didn’t stop a smile from coming to MJ as she read them.

MJ

Hmmm Bru?

“What did he say?”

“He sends me a joke everyday,” MJ replied, while shrugging, “They kinda make my day sometimes.”

Jenny scoffed, “So Peter does make your day better?”

MJ threw her hand up, “There’s no winning with you.”

“Just admit you have a crush.”

“I don’t! He’s just a friend, besides I don’t even really know him. We just met.”

Ding, ding

MJ flashed her eyes down to her phone.

Peter Parker

Joe, obviously 🙄

Peter Parker

But that was a good try ;) better luck next time

MJ

Look Tiger, how do I know you didn’t just change the answer?

“Whatever you say MJ,” Jenny threw her hands in defense, “Do you want me to pour you another glass?”

MJ began to shake her head before she changed her mind, “Actually yes I would like that.”

Jenny looked up in surprise, “You sure?”

“Yeah, I don’t work until late tomorrow, and I think I deserve to unwind for once.”

“Okay, but you’re not getting hammered, not tonight at least, you are not walking home drunk.”

“I’m not going to get drunk,” MJ rolled her eyes, holding her glass out for a refill.

Jenny reached across to MJ’s glass, filling it halfway, “Okay, Miss Lightweight.”

“Lightweight?”

Jenny gave MJ a bewildering look, “Are you being serious? Or is the alcohol already getting to you?”

MJ winced, “Okay, so maybe I am a lightweight.”

Jenny gave a short laugh, “Exactly why I’m cutting you off after this.”

MJ looked up at Jenny with a smile, “What would I do without you?”

Jenny crossed her arms across her chest, “Probably die of loneliness, well maybe, after all you do have Peter now,” Jenny finished her sentence with a wink.

MJ took a small drink ignoring her friend, “How is it nursing at the hospital?”

Jenny gave a shake of her head, her hair flying around her, “Long!!”

Jenny had been working as a LPN at one of the hospitals near their school the last few months. It was nice for her, but kept her working longer hours at night.

MJ gave a look of sympathy at her friend.

“You really should consider coming to work a few shifts, I know you’ve been talking about getting another job to help with money. We do offer some classes to teach on the fly, we have a few more openings.”

It was true, MJ had been considering getting a night job just a few days a week to help bring in extra money. Living in the city could be a bit more expensive, and it would help with school.

“I don’t know if I’d be any good,” MJ admitted sheepishly.

“I think you’d be pretty good, and think of the things you’d learn! It’d help build up tolerance, make you think quicker, and be more flexible.”

“And add stress.”

“Okay there’s that, but you’d only be doing it like what, two or three nights a week?”

“Okay you’ve got me there,” MJ laughed, “I guess I could always just try the classes.”

“Yes!!” Jenny clapped her hands together, and bounced in her seat, “And think of it! We’d probably see each other more.”

MJ doubted that. The hospital was bigger and she’d be training a lot at first. Jenny was more experienced, but who knew, maybe she could help train.

“I could sign you up for the class on Monday,” Jenny offered, “Just come to the first one, if you don’t like it you don’t have to continue.”

MJ gave a thoughtful nod, “Okay yeah, go ahead. I’m off on Monday anyways, so that’d be perfect.”

Jenny gave a shout of excitement, “It’s going to be fun!! And you’ll look so cute in the uniform!”

“Wow that’s a definite compliment, not many can pull off the scrub look, and coming from you is the ultimate compliment,” MJ jokes, taking another sip of wine.

Jenny snorted while taking a sip with MJ, “Consider yourself blessed then.”

Ding

MJ checked her phone, and once again felt a slight blush come across her.

Peter Parker

Again with calling me Tiger? Should I feel flattered?

And for your information that was the punchline, you’ll have to just trust me…RAWR ;)

MJ

I mean if it makes you feel good about yourself go ahead and take it as flattery 🙄

You know when I met you, I thought you were some cute shy boy, I was obviously misinformed

Once MJ hit send she winced, she just told Peter she thought he was cute. Maybe she had drunk too much wine.

Ding

Before MJ could check her phone again Jenny had reached her manicured hand across, “Um you’re not even paying attention!”

MJ winced, “Sorry! I was uh-“

Jenny rolled her eyes, “Texting Peter? Seriously once you admit you like him maybe you’ll feel a bit better.”

MJ grumbled as she got her phone back.

She checked it one more time.

Peter Parker

Cute, huh? My dear lady, are you flirting with me?

Ding

Peter Parker

And actually according to you, if I am indeed a Tiger, I’m not cute, I’m fierce (;

Ding

Peter Parker

Okay that sounded better in my head, ignore that second text :/ and honestly that means a lot coming from you

MJ grinned at her phone as she tapped her finger against the side of the phone thinking of a response.

MJ

Easy there Tiger, didn’t mean to make you feel questioned about your manliness ;)

MJ set her phone down, “So you were saying what?”

“I was saying we should go shopping for the party, I know it’s in a few weeks but, there’s some pretty good deals going on at my moms shop.”

MJ nodded, “Okay, sounds good to me, besides I’m dying to see your mom.”

Jenny’s mom Teresa owned a little clothing shop in the city, and she gave both girls pretty hefty discounts, and sometimes free clothes that were going to be trashed. It really helped MJ out in school after her own mother died. Her father hadn’t been the best with taking MJ shopping, or really anything that required him to be a father.

Honestly Teresa had become a mother figure for her. Teaching her how to use makeup, periods, boy problems, girl issues. Any sort of questions MJ had she could always go to Teresa.

“Ironically, mom has been bugging me about when you would be coming by,” Jenny laughed, while throwing her hair back.

“She’s sweet,” MJ smiled, graciously.

“When you’re not on her bad side,” Jenny joked.

“Like sophomore year?” MJ asked.

Both girls kept quiet for a moment, reflecting on that, before busting up in laughter.

——————————————————————

MJ walked through the quiet street back to her apartment. The evening had gone fairly well for her, she hadn’t realized how much she needed to relax and unwind. Jenny had always been good about helping MJ with that.

MJ paused for a moment and glanced up at the sky. She had always loved looking at the stars, her mother would take her on top of their complex they lived in when she was younger to gaze up at the stars. They would name off constellations, well primarily Madeline, Mary-Jane’s mother, would. MJ would listen to Madeline’s words and bask in the passion that exuded her mother from talking about the stars.

MJ’s mother had always loved science and astrology. She had even studied it in college, but after she got married to Philip Watson she dropped out of school.

From what MJ had learned from other family members over time is that Madeline had met Philip in college. He charmed her instantly, and they fell madly in love. He had a slight drinking problem, but it could be controlled, Madeline helped control it. They had been ecstatic when they found out they were pregnant with Mary-Jane. MJ had actually been a miracle baby.

Right before getting pregnant, Madeline had gotten a job at a research facility. They were testing the limits of radiation. Right before Madeline found out she was pregnant, they had a radiation explosion where not only her, but many of her coworkers were exposed to high doses of radiation. When taken to the hospital, the doctor notified Madeline and Philip that she had been actually pregnant. Medical doctors didn’t expect Madeline to carry full term due to radiation exposure, but somehow she did. It was pure luck.

The radiation exposure was what doctors assumed contributed to the cancer Madeline ended up having. Madeline held on strong for a long time, but eventually her body couldn’t take it anymore.

Madeline’s death affected MJ and Philip greatly.

Philip held it together strongly at first. Prepping the funeral, and the first month or so afterwards. After the funeral he began to look at MJ in a bitter way, and when MJ got older she realized why.

Philip was upset that MJ was born healthy even after radiation exposure, but Madeline had been affected so badly. The realization of that had brought a feeling of guilt, so powerful, that washed over MJ. That guilt still stuck with MJ even now, and she knew it would be there forever.

Without Madeline, Philip relapsed into alcohol harder than ever which strained the already fragile relationship between the father and daughter.

Ding

MJ’s notification shook her out of her thought

Maybe it was the stars, the wine, or the previous discussion of her father that made her reflect on the past. Thinking of her father left a bitter taste in her mouth.

MJ shook her head before looking down to read her notification.

Peter Parker

Hey I noticed you’re not home yet, everything okay?

MJ gave a soft chuckle as she read the message. It was odd having someone other than Jenny concerned about her well-being, but it was also comforting. It caused a feeling of warmth to spread through her chest.

MJ

Keeping tabs on me, Parker? You might give someone the wrong impression

It only took a few seconds for another ding, to ring out in the night. Another ding followed after the first one.

Peter Parker

Now don't let it go to your head bunny

Peter Parker

Seriously tho, is everything okay? You’re not stuck somewhere are you?

“Bunny?” MJ thought aloud, as her eyebrows furrowed.

MJ

Bunny? Do I even want to know what brought that one up?

And yes I’m okay, I’m walking home now, was at Jenny’s hanging out, that is okay right…dad? (;

Ding

Peter Parker

It’s fitting for you. After all, you're so tiny and cute. Besides, you couldn’t even harm a fly…like a bunny (;

Well be careful plz, I don’t need my friend to be mugged or anything

MJ blushed while reading the top of the text. She could never mention that to Jenny, she’d freak out.

MJ

Careful, Tiger, someone might think you’re flirting (;

MJ smirked as she stole what he had said earlier, morphing it slightly to fit her. She clicked send and shoved her phone in her pocket, and continued walking home.

The apartment complex came into eyesight for MJ just as her feet began to feel tired from the walk.

“I’m so ready for a shower, and to lay down,” MJ thought to herself, gleefully.

“Hey sugar!”

MJ jumped at the voice right behind her. She quickly looked over her shoulder and noticed a man walking up briskly towards her. She stiffened slightly but kept walking forward trying to ignore the man coming up behind.

“It’s rude to ignore people,” the man slurred behind her. It was apparent he had, had a few drinks. And it became even more apparent, as he walked up right beside her, from the smell of alcohol that filled her nostril.

MJ continued to ignore him, but her hand began to slowly reach inside her bag to grab her pepper spray.

The man whistled at her, and brought his hand up to grab her shoulder.

She whipped around to face the greasy man, “Don’t touch me,” she cautioned.

The man laughed, “Or what?”

MJ narrowed her eyes, “I don’t think you’ll like the answer, back off.”

The man’s eyes gleamed as he stumbled up towards her, his face in hers.

“You gonna wrestle me? If so, I know some moves you’d like,” he replied in a lewd voice.

The feeling that washed over MJ was instantaneous.

She wouldn’t lie, men made her uneasy, but she had her reasons. Sure she could overreact at times, but then there were times she was completely justified by her actions.

Just as the man started to attempt to back her up to the wall of the building they stood in front of, she whipped her pepper spray out spraying him in the eyes.

The man instantly dropped to the ground yelling, while clutching his eyes.

“Yeah go ahead and try to rub it out, it’s not going to work buddy,” MJ snarked, while putting her pepper spray back in her bag.

Just as MJ began to walk away the man began to reach his arm out to grab one of her ankles, but a web swept by sticking his arm to the building behind him.

MJ jumped at the abrupt movement and sound of the web sticking.

“I may be crazy, but when a woman pepper sprays you, it usually means they’re not interested, man.”

MJ froze as she realized who stood in front of her.

Spider-Man.

The drunk man instantly turned into a blubbery mess of pleading for forgiveness, and trying to come up with a way to get out of all of this.

“Wow chill man, what’s done is done. You’ll be free to go in,” Spider-Man looked at his watchless wrist, “four hours.”

“Four hours?!?”

“That’s what I said,” Spider-Man replied, even with the mask, the smirk was heard from his voice, “That’s when the web will dissolve.”

“I can’t wait here for four hours!”

“Um you can and you will. You kinda deserve it, man.”

MJ stood watching the exchange. She eyed the man in tights closely. She’d never seen him this close before.

“Are you okay, ma’am?” Spider-Man asked, turning to face MJ.

“Uh yeah,” she stuttered, eyes widened.

She tugged at one of her curls, as they studied each other. It felt tense and awkward.

“Thanks Spider-Man,” she added after a moment of silence.

“It’s no problem, anything to help save a pretty girl like you- uh not that I wouldn’t save no one else, I just mean, uh.”

Spider-Man was cut off by a snicker. He whipped his head to the culprit, the man.

“You can’t even talk to a woman? This embarrassing for even m-“ the man was instantly cut off by a web to the mouth.

“Before you ask, oh wait you can’t,” Spider-Man retorted, “That’ll dissolve in four hours as well, at least your arm will dissolve first so you can walk home in silence.”

The man tried to argue back but his voice was muffled.

MJ looked between the two of them, and eyed the web in wonder, before shaking her head.

“Um thanks again Mr. Spider-Man, but I’m going to have to go, once again thanks for everything,” she turned towards the creep, “and I hope you go to hell.”

MJ began to walk towards her building.

“Hey wait, um do you want me to swing you home?”

MJ stopped mid step, “Huh?” She turned to look towards Spider-Man again.

Spider-Man reached a hand up to rub the back of his neck, “I just figured you’d want a ride home, I can get you there quick, you look uh tired.”

MJ scrutinized Spider-Man, “I look tired? Is that your way of saying I look bad?”

Spider-Man guffawed, “what?? No!! I just, you look, I uh-“

MJ snickered, “I’m teasing web-head, thank you for the offer but I’ll have to pass this time. I’ve had a few drinks and I don’t think it’d go over well for both of us if I allowed you to swing me. Besides I just live over here,” she pointed at her complex building.

Spider-Man analyzed her.

“What?” She laughed.

“You know people would die to be in your shoes, or begging me to swing them, you’re calm and-“

MJ cut him off again, “What? I treat you like a person, is that what you’re trying to say?”

Spider-Man cocked his head before giving a loose nod, “Actually yeah.”

“You are a person though, under the mask, is just a man.”

Spider-Man gazed at her through the mask.

MJ stared back, her green eyes cut into him.

“Wow thanks, that’s really nice, and, hold on! Did you call me web head a minute ago?”

MJ mentally face palmed, “Yeah I did.”

Spider-Man stood silently for a moment before responding playfully, “That was a good one.”

MJ smiled before pointing her thumb behind her, “Seriously though, I’m going home, thanks for everything.”

Spider-Man gave a wave before shooting a web and swinging off into the night sky.

MJ smiled following his figure before turning to give the creepy man a hard steel glare, “I better not catch you around here again, understood?”

The man groaned while shaking his head.

MJ gave him a once over again, and threw him the finger before walking off to get to her complex.

——————————————————————-

MJ stumbled up to her door, sparing a glance at Peter’s door. She considered for a moment to go over to his door and knock. To tell him about her evening, to tease him, to talk, but she went against it.

Dragging herself inside she slammed her door shut, and threw her purse on her small loveseat.

“Ugh a shower will make things a lot better,” she said aloud, as she trudged into her bathroom.

She let out a sigh as the warm water hit her back.

“I can’t believe I met Spider-Man tonight.”

He really was out there helping people. With both little and big problems. And the important thing was, that he was just a person under the mask. A man who was human, just like her and everybody else. It was refreshing.

After her shower she threw herself into bed sinking into her mattress. She grabbed her phone off her night stand to shoot Jenny a message to let her know she was home safe. She left out the whole interaction she had on the way back. She’d wait to tell her in person, and not at night. She didn’t need Jenny freaked out.

A smile spread across MJ’s face as she read her last message from Peter.

Peter Parker

What if I am flirting? 😎

Please let me know you’re home safe, plz

MJ blushed before typing her response.

MJ

If you were flirting, I suppose I’d tell you, you need to work on the flirting game. It was poorly executed (;

And yes I’m home safe, and you wouldn’t believe what went down outside this complex

Ding

Peter Parker

Ouch. I’ll remember that bunny….idk if that properly fits you anymore. Maybe kitten is better, matches your claws better…

Good, I’m glad, I was worried.

What happened??

MJ

Kitten?!? 😐

I pepper sprayed this creep and he tried to go for a round two fight, but Spider-Man intervened.. it was definitely interesting

Ding

Peter Parker

You pepper sprayed someone???

Wow you really are like a kitten

And you met Spider-Man??

What did you think?

MJ bit her lip as she typed her response out, laughing slightly.

MJ

I sure did, so watch yourself Parker ;)

Whatever, you think what you want…Tiger

He’s definitely pretty interesting, kind of a smart ass, but in a…good way? I’ll explain better later. I’m going to bed, after today, I’m going to need that sleep. Lol!

It took a few minutes for Peter’s response, and by the time he had, MJ had already fallen asleep.

Ding

Peter Parker

Weird, who knew Spider-Man could be that way??

I’ll talk to you tomorrow bunny, sweet dreams :))

[whitneyyy369]

Tear in my Heart Chapter Two

My take on The Amazing Spider-Man 3 :TASM Peter Parker x MJ

This is set before NWH.

Warnings: slight age gap, eventual smut, violence, language, eventual NWH spoilers, poor attempt of slow burn

Word count: 5,429

Inspired song for this chapter: A-O-K by Tai Verdes

“Hey little lady, I know you’re feelin crazy

All your other friends are busy makin them babies

Been out in the real world, don’t like how it’s tastin”

Chapter Two

Ring, ring, ring

MJ squinted, as she reached for her ringing phone in the darkness of her bedroom.

“Shut up,” she mumbled to herself, as she pushed the off button.

MJ laid back on her bed throwing her hands above her arms stretching, before letting herself relax allowing herself to wake up.

Five minutes passed before her second alarm rang, signaling that it was time to actually get up to prepare for her day.

MJ slung her legs over her bed. Her sock covered feet hit the ground, she could feel the coolness, of her hardwood flooring, seeping through them.

MJ groaned as she stood up, stretching once more before bending down to fix her left sock as it drooped to her ankle.

MJ walked to her small workspace desk, to grab the thin, pink, tattered robe that laid across her chair. She ignored her mess of sketching material while pulling her robe on as she walked out her bedroom.

She made her way to her small kitchen where she had already prepped her coffee for the morning. After turning it on she made her way into her bathroom.

MJ’s bathroom was actually quite a good size for the price she was paying. It was something she was proud of, and teased Jenny about. Jenny, who always took so long in the bathroom getting ready with her face and makeup, had a tiny bathroom compared to MJ.

MJ sighed as the hot water poured down her back. She stood under the shower letting the water pour over her. She hadn't gotten much sleep. She had stayed up late sketching, as usual.

Sketching had been an outlet for MJ, but lately it had been a cause of her not getting sleep.

MJ let her mind wander, as the hot water soothed her. Her mind drifted to the man she had met last night.

Peter Parker.

He was cute. Had soft brown hair that was messy. Big brown eyes. Tall. Lean. But also slightly muscular. He seemed really down to earth. But he had a light in him that didn’t seem really…bright. As if the light had been demolished.

He had talked as if he had already lived a lifetime, but he couldn’t be older than 25.

He carried himself in a way that reminded MJ of..herself.

Maybe he could be a potential…someone. Maybe a friend.

God knew MJ needed more in her life.

“Come on MJ, you don’t have time for this,” She thought to herself, as she determinedly grabbed her shampoo.

MJ gingerly stepped out of her shower, wrapping a towel over her slender figure. She stood in front of her bathroom mirror, inspecting her appearance.

Mary-Jane Watson knew she was not ugly, by any means, but she couldn’t help but feel extremely average, and unproportioned.

She wasn’t very tall, only about 5’3 or 5’4 (depended on who you asked). But she had wiry arms that were long. Which came in handy for when she played volleyball in high school. Her hair came to about her armpits, which always started down in the day, but always managed to be in a bun by middle of the day. Her heart shaped face was lightly dusted with freckles specifically across her small button like nose.

One thing she had, that she didn’t really care for, was a bigger bust(which could, at times, bring unwanted attention) . But the downfall, to her, was she was endowed up top, but not so much at the bottom. Something her mother used to innocently tease her when she was little.

The one thing she liked about herself was her eyes. They were a green color that had a dark ring of green on the outside. She had her mothers eyes.

MJ padded through her hallway back into the kitchen to grab herself a mug of coffee, before getting ready for another uneventful day.

After throwing on a pair of skinny jeans, MJ reached inside her dresser to grab a tshirt, when her fingers grazed over a button up flowy shirt that Jenny had gotten for her, for her birthday last year.

Yanking it onto her body, MJ stood in front of her small body mirror in her room, doing a small circle.

“This will do,” she nodded at herself, before grabbing her converse and pulling them on while standing. But in true MJ fashion, she fell forward, hitting her knee on her hardwood floor.

“Damnit!“ she shouted as she rolled onto her bottom rubbing her knee aggressively.

She grumbled as she shoved her feet in her shoes from the ground, and winced as she stood up. She walked into her bathroom gripping the counter as she brushed her teeth, slightly aggressively.

“Okay so classes at 7 until 12, then study/homework until 2, meet with Jenny at 3 for lunch, close at the cafe,” MJ listed in her head. She wasn’t sure why she even listed, it was essentially the same list she had for every Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday.

MJ rushed to the kitchen counter grabbing her cardigan that was carelessly thrown over the chair in front. But one look at the clock on her microwave threw her off. Her eyes widened as she saw what time it was.

“No!!” She had 15 minutes to get to the subway which typically took her 25 minutes. She really needed to get a car, or even a bike.

MJ rushed out the door glancing down the hall where Peter resided. She knew he said he went to the same school she went, and she couldn’t help but wonder what classes he took.

MJ shook her head, as she rushed down the stairs of her apartment. Not even realizing she had left her phone on her kitchen counter.

——————————————————————

By the time MJ reached her first class, ten minutes late, she knew today was going to be a long day. Even longer when she realized she left her phone at home. Somehow even longer when she realized she left her hair tie at home.

She had never been late to class before. She focused on her feet as she rushed inside her class. She had always been one of the first in, and one of the first out. And she knew Professor Williams was a stickler for those who were late.

The professor stopped teaching as he glanced at the door MJ entered in, “Miss. Watson, I hope you have a good reason for being late today.”

MJ sheepishly looked up before clearing her throat getting ready to speak up, before she was cut off.

“Don’t even bother with excuses, take a seat, and do not be late ever again.”

MJ nodded, as her cheek flushed brightly as she tried to avoid the stares of her classmates. She walked up the stairs of the classroom taking a seat in the first chair she found.

“Anyway, as I was saying..” the Professor trailed off, onto his lecture.

MJ groaned inwardly, as she sank into her chair. Her knee was still throbbing slightly from falling, and all the running.

“Today is going so bad.” She thought, shakily running a hand through her mess of curls.

Even with a rocky start the class still went by relatively fast, for MJ at least. Once class was dismissed MJ gathered her sloppy mess of paperwork and pencils and started shoving them into her bag ungracefully, not caring about crumbling the paperwork.

“Hey MJ!” A voice called out behind MJ, as she stood to leave, “Crazy morning for you?”

MJ groaned, before turning and placing a polite smile in place, “Oh hey Brad! You have no idea.”

Brad Watson. The boy from history. The boy from the failed date. The sexist boy.

Brad was attractive, but he was the definition of looks aren’t everything.

He had blonde hair and blue eyes, the kind you could get lost in. At least until he spoke and ruined the trance.

“Hey, listen,” Brad began, wetting his lips in a way that had MJ cringing inwardly, “I know that maybe the last date didn’t hit off that well, but I figured I’d give you another chance.”

MJ froze.

Brad saw that as a way to continue, he placed a hand on her shoulder, “Let’s hang tonight, just you and me. At my place. My roommate will be gone,” the innuendo didn’t have to be said to read into it.

MJ took a deep breath, getting ready to brutally destroy the man verbally before she was cut off, but by someone she was not expecting at all.

“MJ!”

She whipped her head around fast at the sound of the voice.

Peter Parker walked over placing himself next to her.

“Peter Parker!” MJ gasped.

“Hey!” Peter beamed, “Did you forget that I was going to walk you to class?”

MJ squinted at Peter, her mind drawing a blank. Before she could respond, Peter beat her to it.

“Hey sorry, man, Bruce right?” Peter asked, a teasing glint in his eye.

Brad gaped, “Um no it’s Brad.”

“Oh, Bryce?”

“No, it’s Brad ma-.”

“Sorry Bryce, MJ and I got class, catch you later? Or not?” Peter snarked, as he wrapped an arm around MJ’s shoulder casually, “I can’t believe you forgot!” Peter continued as he walked MJ out of the class.

Once they exited the class, Brad still stood on the stair gaping, Peter removed his arm, “Sorry, I hope I didn’t freak you out, you looked like you needed help.”

MJ shook her head, “Uh no, not at all,” she lied casually as she continued walking with Peter.

Peter grinned down, “I can’t believe I never noticed you in this class before!”

MJ nodded as she tugged at one of her curly brown strands, and laughed nervously, “Me either!”

They both stopped once they entered outside the halls. MJ clutched her shoulder strap to her as she gazed up at Peter, “Thank you, by the way, I really appreciate what you did.”

Peter laughed sheepishly, as he raised a hand up to nervously rake through his messy hair, “It’s no problem! My Aunt would kill me if I left a girl like that.”

MJ narrowed her eyes, “Are you saying that because I’m a girl I can’t handle myself?”

Peter's eyes widened as gulped inwardly, “What? No, I was just, you know, uh-“

MJ stopped Peter with a snicker, “Hey, I was just kidding.”

Peter stopped taking a deep breath before releasing a breathless laugh, a grin spread across his face.

“Seriously thank you, and thank your Aunt for me.” MJ responded, while playfully nudging Peter’s shoulder with her own.

Peter gazed at MJ curiously before teasing, “You know, from what I got from you yesterday, was that you were a timid shy girl, but I must’ve miscalculated.”

MJ rolled her eyes, “Consider yourself lucky to see this side of me.”

“I hope to see this side of you and more.”

Both adults stopped at the words that fell from Peter.

Peter guffawled as his own words hit him, “I am so sorry, sometimes I don’t know how to speak.”

MJ nodded, “It’s okay, I understand.” She could since his sincerity that radiated off him. It put her at ease.

“So, we have history together!” Peter responded as silence lapsed between the two of them, “That’s awesome!”

MJ nodded enthusiastically, as she agreed, “Yeah it is, really. You have no idea how I need more friends…I mean if you want to be friends.” She trailed off.

Peter glanced down thoughtfully, “I know what you mean, I need more friends as well.”

MJ thought the word friend sounded foreign falling off Peter's lips.

“Do you study here at all?” MJ tilted her head, her curls falling off her shoulder.

“Sometimes,” Peter rubbed the back of his neck.

MJ felt a wave of courage rush through her, “Well if you want, I’ll be in the library at 12 to study, if you wanted you could, uh, study with me.”

Peter’s soft brown eyes met MJ’s bright green eyes. A softness that Peter hadn’t felt in a long time ran through him, “Actually that would be nice.”

A big smile ran across the man’s face. MJ returned the smile.

“I’d offer you my phone number so we can contact each other in case something pops up, but I kind of forgot my cell at home,” MJ admitted sheepishly.

“Guess that means neither of us can back out, right?”

MJ beamed, “Exactly.”

“So meet up at 12, at the library?” Peter confirmed.

“12 at the library,” MJ responded, still beaming.

“I’ll see you at 12, then.” Peter responded, teasingly, before making his way down the same hall they had just come from.

MJ let the conversation fall over her.

“Take that Jenny, who said I can make other friends!”

MJ almost skipped to her next class, as excitement radiated from her.

“Maybe today was going to turn around.”

—————————————————————-

MJ’s next class dragged by slower than her last. Then again it was biochemistry. A class she couldn’t believe she chose to take for her journalism major.

MJ glanced at the clock on the wall.

11:45.

Fifteen minutes left. Then she’d be free to explore this new friendship.

Jenny would squeal when she found out, but since Peter was a guy, that would mean Jenny would be pushy about her dating this potential friend.

That caused MJ to inwardly groan, wasn’t it possible for a girl to have a good guy friend?

Sure Jenny and Luke started as good friends, but it was something everyone saw from the beginning. Lucas could handle Jenny in a way no one could dream of. Jenny had a wild card, and it was if Lucas was the only one to tame it. They were an end game. Soulmates.

MJ sighed, sure she was slightly envious of that. Sure she longed for a relationship like that, but only time would tell who her match in life would be. For now potential friends would suffice MJ.

MJ sighed as she glanced at the clock, only five minutes had passed. She blew a strand of hair out of her eyes.

“I hope Jenny has a hair tie.”

MJ tried to concentrate on her Professor's closing remarks for the day, but it was proving to be useless.

“-We’ll touch base later on this next week. Oh, and remember to submit the essays by Friday. Have a nice day.”

MJ gathered her school supplies in a rush, making a dash to the door.

As she neared the library, her thoughts made her falter.

“What if Peter isn’t there, or what if he didn’t actually want to study together. I mean I did kinda coerce him into meeting.”

Just as she was about to chicken out completely, a friendly hand on her shoulder shook her out of her thoughts completely.

“Hey, are you ready to study, neighbor?” Peter beamed down.

His touch and soothing voice calmed her, almost immediately.

“More like I was born ready,” MJ joked weakley.

Peter grinned as he nodded his head towards the door, “Ladies first.”

A smile grew across MJ as she led the way to the library. The weight across her shoulder lifted with every step towards the entrance. Reassurance filled her to the brim, and filled her with a warmth she didn’t know she needed.

The pair made their way home inside the library and chose a table close to the back.

MJ made a move to sit in the chair that faced the door, before a hand stopped her.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I kinda like to sit facing the doorways. I know it’s weird,” Peter laughed half-heartedly, while rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

MJ stopped, and moved to sit on the other side, “Oh, no it’s totally fine, whatever is more comfortable for you.” She smiled reassuringly at Peter.

MJ reached inside her bag and placed her biochemistry book in front of her.

She glanced up at Peter through her eyelashes, as he dumped his school work ungracefully in front of him. She eyed his homework. It looked like mostly science or math work.

“He does seem like the smart type,” she thought to herself.

“Oh you’re taking biochemistry?“ Peter asked, as he eyed her biochemistry book, “Well I mean obviously you’re taking the class since you have the book.”

MJ winced inwardly, maybe Peter was slightly more awkward with human interaction than herself.

“Yeah, I am,” she laughed, “Honestly though, it’s kicking my ass.”

Peter tilted his head, “Oh, what part of it is doing you over?”

MJ flushed slightly, “All of it. I don’t even know why I took this class, I guess I just thought it’d be easier.”

“Maybe I can help you understand it better,” Peter offered, with a kind smile.

MJ tapped her pencil before jokingly replying, “You can try, but don’t be disappointed when I prove to be a difficult student.”

Peter reached a long arm across the table pulling her folder of biochemistry homework, “Let’s see what we’re dealing with, huh?”

MJ nodded graciously, with a smile that could warm the entire room.

“Okay, so it looks like….” Peter began.

Over the next hour Peter gave it his all to teach his hallway neighbor all he could of the homework. MJ was actually a little astonished by how well he could simplify the work.

“Wow, Peter, I hope whatever you’re majoring in has something to do with this stuff or some sort of sciencey stuff. You really know your stuff,” MJ praised Peter, as she shoved her finally finished homework in her bag.

“Thanks, MJ,” Peter flushed, as he tapped the end of his pencil on his own homework.

“I wish I could repay you with homework help, but I’m afraid that probably wouldn’t work judging from the looks of your homework.”

Peter laughed in amusement, “Actually, this is enough to repay it all.” Peter gestured between the two of them, “Having actual human interaction other than my aunt and one friend is enough for me.”

MJ scoffed, “I know what you mean. My friend has been pestering me about meeting and making new friends since she got a boyfriend.”

Peter rolled his eyes, “Same! They obviously don’t understand how hard this can be. It's not often a broken elevator brings two people together.” He laughed earnestly.

MJ laughed along with Peter. It felt refreshing. Usually when she was around others her laughter wasn’t even remotely genuine.

“So you say you’re a junior, right?” Peter asked, curiosity gleamed in his eyes.

MJ gave a brief nod, as she interlocked her hands on the table in front of her.

“So that makes you what, like 22 or 23?”

“Actually I’m turning 22 this year in August. I got to start school a year early because of my birthday.”

“You’re like a baby!” Peter teased, as he gestured at her dramatically.

“Please, what are you? Like 24?” MJ mumbled, as she crossed her arms across her chest.

Peter put his hand to his chest, “Thank you, child you make me feel good. I'm actually 26, but I’m flattered by your judgement.”

MJ rolled her eyes, “Wow, steady there tiger, wouldn’t want that to go to your head.”

Peter guffawed, “Tiger?”

MJ flushed, turning her head to the side, “Shut up, maybe kitten is a better nickname for you, since you’re trying to act all big and bad.”

“No, no I actually prefer tiger, over kitten, no offense,” Peter winked at MJ, a mischievous smirk crawled across his face.

MJ groaned, slapping her hand on her forehead, “I’m not going to live this down, am I?”

Peter shook his head in amusement, “No way.”

MJ laughed in disbelief as she stared at the man in front of her. When he laughed he looked…more youthful. It suited him.

“So, MJ, does your family live around here?”

That sentence was the equivalent of dousing her in cold water.

MJ stiffened.

Peter instantly sobered, noting her reaction, “Hey, sorry I didn’t mean to pry or anything.”

“No you’re totally fine,” MJ blurted, “My mom, uh, she died when I was younger, and I don’t keep in contact with my..dad.”

A look of understanding flashed across Peter, “I understand, I lost my parents when I was younger. My aunt and uncle raised me. I really didn’t mean to pry or make you uncomfortable.”

“It’s fine. It’s just a little compli-.”

“Mary-Jane!” A voice cut off MJ.

MJ jumped, as she whipped her head around. Peter peered around her.

“Jenny!” MJ stammered, “What are you doing here?”

Jenny made her way over to MJ, her hands shaking as she gripped the brunette's shoulders tightly, “I’ve been trying to contact you for the past hour, why didn’t you respond..” Jenny trailed off as she noticed the guy sitting across from her friend, “Who is this?”

MJ winced at the tone in Jenny’s voice, “Jenny this is my new friend,” MJ emphasized the word friend, “Peter, he just moved into the complex a few months ago. We just met officially last night.”

Jenny nodded, not taking her eyes off Peter, “Right, friend.”

Peter waved a hand at Jenny, awkwardly, “Yeah, um my name is Peter Parker.”

Jenny's eyes widened, and then snapped her manicured fingers together, “Peter Parker? Do you happen to know Lucas Burr?”

Peter blinked before jerkily nodding his head, “Yeah, we both help out at the lab here, and we work together at the-“

“The Daily Bugle, right?” Jenny enthusiastically asked.

MJ glanced between her two..friends, “Wow what a small world, huh?”

Jenny looked down at her friend, “No kidding!”

“I take it, you know Luke?” Peter asked, carefully.

“Yep, I’m his girlfriend. Jennifer Rentz.” Jenny beamed.

Being the extrovert person Jenny was, she grabbed Peter's hand, shaking it enthusiastically.

“Luke talks very highly of you!” Jenny said, still shaking Peter's hand.

“Same to you,” Peter replied as he gingerly took his hand away. He sent a side eye to MJ. To which MJ giggled, she was used to seeing this between people Jenny interacted with.

“You know, MJ is trying to intern at the Daily Bugle next year.”

Peter’s eyes widened as he glanced at MJ, “Oh really?”

MJ flushed, “Yeah, I’m majoring in Journalism. I’m planning on turning in my resume in a few weeks when the job opens up.”

Peter smiled warmly at MJ, “I’ll put in a good word for you.”

MJ felt herself grow even warmer, “Thank you, Peter.”

“No problem.”

“Anyway,” Jenny whipped her head to MJ, “ why haven’t you been responding?”

MJ winced as she nervously tapped her nails on the table, “I left my phone at home.”

Jenny raised her eyebrows, “You’re usually really organized, rough morning?”

MJ gave a slight glare at Jenny, “Yeah, I had a lot on my mind.”

Jenny smirked, “I’m sure you did.”

MJ huffed, “Jenny! Please.”

“Sorry,” she apologized.

MJ eyed her friend hard, she didn’t seem really sorry. She should’ve known this would happen, especially after Jenny had been pestering her about dating the previous night.

Jenny studied MJ for a moment before lifting her hand to touch MJ’s curls, “You should really wear your hair down more often, it’s cute!”

MJ groaned, and snuck a glance at Peter, his head rested in his hand, a soft smile covered his face as he watched the two girls interact.

“Anyway, Jen what’s up?” MJ tried to change the subject.

“Well I got out of class early, and was trying to see if you wanted to get lunch early.”

“Well I could meet up in a little bit, I don’t want to leave Peter-“

“No! Peter could come as well!” Jenny proposed eagerly, as she bounced her feet.

Peter laughed nervously, “No, I wouldn’t want to, uh impose or anything.”

Jenny answered for MJ, “You would not at all, trust me!”

Ding, ding, ding

Everyone turned their eyes to Peter’s pocket.

Peter quickly ripped his phone from his pocket, “Oh, uh I'm actually going to have to head out, I gotta take care of this,” he explained, as he shoved all his school work in his bag.

“MJ why don’t you give Peter your phone number, that way you can meet up…since I am stealing you anyway,” Jenny smirked.

MJ flushed once again.

“Oh Jenny,” she thought to herself.

Peter glanced up from his phone, “That’s actually a good idea, what’s your phone number? I can text you later.”

Jenny stepped behind Peter and gave MJ a thumbs up while jumping up and down silently.

MJ mentally face palmed before giving Peter her number.

“Thanks, we’ll definitely have to do this again, or go get coffee or something one day,” Peter grinned at MJ.

MJ felt butterflies in her stomach, “Yeah, totally!“

Peter flushed before giving MJ a wave, and giving Jenny a nod.

“I’ll see you later!” Peter told MJ while typing away at his phone, grinning slightly.

MJ gave Peter a wave as he dashed out the door.

“Pinch me!” Jenny exclaimed, “I can’t believe you made a friend with such a cute guy!!”

MJ blushed, “Jen, please!”

“What?” Jenny asked, innocently throwing her hands in surrender.

“You probably embarrassed him,” MJ mumbled, shoving her face into her hands.

“He didn’t seem to mind it at all,” Jenny placed a hand on her hip, “Listen to the person who can read body languages.”

MJ scoffed, “Right.”

“Come on, let’s go get lunch, we obviously have a lot to talk about! Luke isn’t going to believe this!”

MJ groaned as she placed her homework in her bag.

—————————————————————

Lunch with Jennifer passed pretty quickly. Which had been surprising for MJ, she had dreaded what would come out of it with the whole library interaction.

MJ had slight difficulties paying attention to everything Jenny talked about, her mind kept drifting towards Peter.

She hadn’t met someone other than Jenny where she just…clicked with. Especially in such a short time. Maybe it had to do with Peter’s charisma, but he had something about him. Like his awkwardness, but he did have a lot of comebacks, kinda like MJ. MJ could see a friendship growing between them, and she looked forward to it.

“I don’t know how you weren’t absolutely swooning, MJ.”

MJ rolled her eyes, “I just met him, Jen. Besides, he doesn't seem like he’s looking for a relationship either. He seems like he just needs a friend, kinda like me.”

Jenny groaned, “But MJ, I saw the connection between you two! What’s his zodiac sign?”

MJ laughed, “Oh my God, I have no idea Jen. I didn’t ask, and I’m not going to ask.”

“MJ you’re no fun!” Jenny threw her hands up, “Wait, I’ll just find out from Luke!”

MJ rolled her eyes, “Fine, but leave me out of it.”

Jenny smirked as she took a long drink from her sprite, “We’ll see about that.”

MJ groaned as she leaned her head back, blowing another strand out of her eyes, “Do you have a hair tie?”

Jenny shook her head, “No, and if I did I wouldn’t give it to you. I don’t know why you don’t wear your hair down more often, it’s so cute. You know a lot of girls would die for hair like yours.”

MJ scoffed, “So they want messy hair? I think that’s debatable.”

Jenny shook her head again, “I wish I could show you what we all see when we look at you, you’re beautiful MJ.”

MJ flushed, “Don’t bother because I do see myself, pretty good actually, and I’m average. Especially compared to you,” MJ mumbled the last part.

Jenny’s blue eyes softened, “Oh, MJ, you’ll see one day.”

Jenny’s phone ringing broke the conversation, “It’s time for me to head out for work,” Jenny groaned, “I really don’t want to go in.”

“Neither do I,” MJ agreed, as she placed some cash on the table.

“Hey, someone turn up the TV!”

Both girls glanced up at the TV, as one of the waiters turned it up.

It was Spider-Man.

“This just in, at Time Square, reports of Spider-Man stopping a burglary at the Bank of America…” the reporter trailed off, giving a run down of the incident. The screen cut off to show Spider-Man webbing one of the burglars to outside of the bank, before swinging off, giving the police a tip of the hand.

“Wow he’s amazing,” Jenny whispered in awe, “It’s gotta take a lot of guts to do that, and look at his ass!”

MJ rolled her eyes, “I thought you preferred Luke’s ass over all other asses?”

Jenny winced, “Don't repeat that.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” MJ replied in amusement, “I wonder what made Spider-Man want to do this all, I mean something must have happened for this to happen, and how did he even get his abilities.”

“Aww here comes reporter MJ to the surface,” Jenny joked as she playfully shoved the other girl.

MJ giggled, “It’s a serious question.”

Jenny’s phone ringing once more ripped them from their thoughts, “Hey MJ, I really gotta go, text me when you get home!”

MJ nodded in agreement, as she slung her bag over her shoulder and waved goodbye to her friend as she rushed off.

Sadly the walk to work for MJ went by extremely fast. And it only got worse as it turned out to be the turn of the evening. Usually it was dead, and it started that way, but a large family came at the last minute putting a large order in.

Then to make matters worse one of the family members accidentally dropped their hot latte on the counter, causing it to splash all over MJ. Hot coffee did not feel good on skin, and it did not look good on clothing.

“I’m so sorry!” The family apologized once more, as MJ led them to the door so she could shut down.

“No it’s fine!” MJ tried to reason, wincing as the mother put a hand on her burnt arm, “It was an accident, and believe it or not it happens all the time.”

“Here at least take this tip, please,” the mother forced $20 in MJ’s apron pocket, before heading out the door.

MJ sighed as she reached inside her pocket gripping the bill, maybe the evening would turn out okay.

“$20 is $20,” MJ reasoned mentally.

After cleaning up the mess from the large family, MJ rushed out desperate to be home. She wasn’t going to risk the evening turning out worse.

“What if I run into Peter?” MJ thought to herself, flushing lightly.

Thinking of Peter made her wonder if he did text her. It definitely gave her more willpower to rush home to see.

Entering the apartment complex, she sighed in relief at seeing the elevator without the out of order sign hung on it.

After exiting the elevator, she forced herself not to look over at Peter’s door.

MJ slammed her door shut, and ripped her ruined top in her living room, before heading to her bathroom to take a quick shower, not bothering washing her hair. The heat of the water made her wince, when it hit her arm.

After taking her shower, she threw her hair up in a bun and wrapped her pink robe around her body.

Grabbing a pop tart and her phone that still laid on her counter she made her way to her bedroom.

She sighed heavily as she laid on her bed, all tension leaving her. Today had proven to be quite interesting.

“I wonder if he messaged me.” MJ thought to herself as she glanced at her phone, “Don’t get your hopes up, who knows, what if he was busy, and I mean it’s not like he had to text me.”

MJ took a deep breath before tapping her phone.

There were several messages.

Most were missed calls from Jenny. Which reminded MJ to shoot her a quick text to let her friend know she made it home.

Then there was one more text. From a random number.

“Hey I had fun studying, you weren’t even as difficult of a student as you said you would be….and btw I liked your hair down :)” after the smiley face, it read “from yours truly, Peter” and the cheeky boy added a tiger emoji at the end.

A deep blush crossed MJ’s cheeks as a big smile stretched across her face. She hugged her phone to her chest.

Maybe the day wasn’t so bad.

[whitneyyy369]

TASM Peter Parker x MJ

This is a new idea I came up with. I’m still trying to get the hang of the beginning, but I’ve got some big ideas for the future. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the first chapter. And if anyone has any feedback please feel free to comment it or DM me. I’m also interested in looking for a beta reader 😊😊

My take on The Amazing Spider-Man 3

Tear in my Heart

“Tear in my Heart” by Twenty One Pilots is what kinda inspired me to right this fic. I’m also going to try and put other songs that inspire me for this story.

This is set before NWH, about a year or so. College Peter and MJ.

Warnings: slight age gap(Peter is older than MJ, I can’t stop doing age gaps 😬), eventual smut, violence, language, eventual NWH spoilers, attempt at slow burn.

“But it takes someone to come around and show you how,

She’s the tear in my heart, I’m alive,

She’s the tear in my heart, I’m on fire,

She’s the tear in my heart, take me higher.”

Chapter One

MJ sat behind the counter, resting one of her lightly freckled cheeks in the palm of her hand. She checked the clock on the wall in front of her, it read 7:00 pm.

It was a typical, uneventful Tuesday evening at the Aroma Mocha.

It was a small cafe that was slow on weekday evenings, but made up for it on the weekends and mornings. MJ had the honor(insert eyeroll) to work the evenings every Tuesday. Most Tuesday’s remained so dead she ended up closing by herself, which only caused the evening to drag even more.

“Only two more hours,” she sighed, blowing a reddish brown curly strand of hair that had escaped her messy bun, out of her face.

MJ had been hoping after this semester of school she’d be able to finally drop this job, and do something else. However, it was hard to find a job where she could balance school as well.

The bell to the door rang as it opened for the first time in an hour.

“Don’t look so excited, MJ, you may chase people away!“ a playful voice teased her.

MJ lifted her head up to smile, “Oh shut up Jenny, you know as well as I do, I’ll probably get maybe two or three more customers tonight.”

Jenny laughed, looking around the vacant coffee shop, “True that!”

Jennifer Lynn Rentz had known MJ since they were children. They had gone to the same school since Preschool, and stuck together since. They had been there for each other. Like when MJ’s mother passed away from Pancreatic cancer when she was in second grade. Or when Jenny’s parents had split up in middle school. They had been tied together.

“What brings you in, on this fine evening?” MJ snarked, “Would like a cup of burnt coffee, or would you prefer some stale doughnuts?”

“Oh, I’ll have to pass on that this evening,” Jenny rolled her eyes, as she moved to stand across from MJ at the counter, “I just came to pop in and say hello to my best friend before I head out for my hot date tonight.”

MJ grinned at her lifelong friend, “Where’s Luke taking you this time?”

Jenny sighed dreamily, “He’s taking me to that Italian restaurant that I really liked.”

“Oh, Cara Mia?”

“Yes,” Jenny beamed, “For a guy, he knows how to read me well.”

“I can tell,” MJ smiled, “You two are just too cute.”

Jenny laughed softly, “You know, it would be better if we could have a double date one day.”

MJ scoffed and rolled her eyes, “We‘ll see about that.”

“It’d be fun!”

MJ rolled her eyes, “First, I’d have to find a willing participant to go.”

“Pretty sure it’s called “date”, not a participant.” Jenny laughed, “maybe that’s why you have such a difficult time finding one.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” MJ scoffed.

“You’re never interested in dating, you don’t even try!”

MJ tapped her fingers on the paint chipped counter, and looked down, “I know, I just-“

“You know not every guy is a dick, right?” Jenny asked, softly, “I wish you could see that, and one day you will.”

MJ continued to tap away at the counter, “I know, it’s just, it’s just complicated. I’ll work through it eventually, and I have gotten better.”

Jenny threw her head back, laughing, “Better? Define better.”

MJ threw her hands up in the air, “I mean I went on that date with Brad, from English.”

Jenny squinted her eyes, “Yeah, and then you proceeded to dump your drink on him..on purpose.”

MJ looked down, “He was sexist!” She defended herself, tugging at her long sleeve shirt.

“Okay, you do have a point,” Jenny snorted, “But it also wouldn’t hurt for you to get more friends.”

MJ knew that was true. Jenny had Luke, and therefore her time was divided between the two. It did get pretty lonely when MJ third wheeled.

“I know, Jenny.”

Jenny’s eyes softened, and just as she was about to reply her phone went off.

“That’s probably Luke, wondering where his girlfriend is,” MJ teased, lightly, trying to lift the mood.

Jenny smiled slightly as she answered the phone, “Hey Luke! I’m on my way, just stopped by to see my girl, MJ.” Jenny leaned away from the phone, “Luke says to tell you he says hi.”

MJ smiled, “Tell him I said, hello, and that I’m sorry his girlfriend sucks at meeting people on time!”

Jenny rolled her eyes, “MJ says hello right back to you.”

MJ laughed, while shaking her head.

“Okay, okay, I’ll be there in 5 minutes,” Jenny pleaded playfully, “Alright, I love you too.”

Jenny beamed as she put her phone in her purse, “Listen, I gotta go, try not to suffer too much here without me. And I’ll see you tomorrow. We’re still meeting for lunch right?

“Yes, Jenny!” MJ replied, drawing out her yes, “Now go before your date cancels on you,” MJ teased.

Jenny gave a playful glare before waving at her friend and heading outside, “I’ll see you tomorrow!”

MJ sighed when Jenny was out of sight. She was right. MJ needed to go out on dates or make more friends. It wasn’t healthy being this alone. Isolating herself.

It wasn’t that she didn’t notice attractive guys. She just didn’t know what to say, and being around men did cause some uneasiness.

Besides, not many guys noticed her. At least, not like her friend, Jenny was the type of woman all men wished they could have. From her voluminous blonde hair, glowy tan skin, big blue eyes, her perfect hourglass shape. It truly wasn’t fair.

MJ wasn’t necessarily ugly, but she was…average, compared to her friend.

She had a mess of curly, brown hair that she normally threw up in a bun. Her milky skin had no glow to it at all, it was just dusted in freckles. There was one thing MJ did like about herself, and that was her green eyes that she got from her mother.

And getting more friends was easier said than done. Jenny had been the one to come up to MJ, to coax her out of her shyness. Jenny had basically taken MJ under her wing.

Ring

The bell to the door rang once more, shaking MJ from her thoughts. Throwing on a smile reserved just for work, she took the order from the customers.

——————————————————————

The next two hours flew by pretty fast for MJ. After the couple left she had no one else that walked in, leaving her time to work on her homework that was due at the end of the week.

Finally her phone beeped letting her know that it was time to close up.

Since Tuesdays were fairly slow in the evening, MJ could keep up with cleaning very easily. Therefore, she could get out fast.

MJ walked into the small office in the back to grab her purse and keys. She left a little note on the small desk, for her manager Albert, on how the day had gone, and headed out.

After locking the outside lock of the coffee shop, MJ turned to look around. The evening crowd had slowed down quite a bit, leaving a peaceful quietness in its wake.

The walk back to her apartment was fairly short, just a 10-15 minute walk, depending on her pace.

Her apartment was interesting. When Jenny had found out MJ was planning on moving into the complex she nearly had a conniption.

Despite its looks, the apartment wasn’t ALL that bad. At least that’s what MJ constantly told herself. It had a certain charm to it, and the most important thing was that she didn’t live at home anymore.

But after a long day, seeing the same on the elevator that seemed to be on it every other week, weakened MJ’s optimism.

“Out of order, again?” MJ groaned as she walked to the elevator.

“They really should put some money towards a new elevator,” a voice laughed quietly behind her.

MJ turned to meet a pair of deep brown eyes, matched with hair just as dark of brown.

She had seen the guy around lately, he had just moved in on the same hallway as her about two months ago. His name was Paul or Peter. She couldn’t remember, but she also wasn’t about to make a fool of herself guessing.

“No kidding,” MJ responded as she tugged on her purse on her shoulder, “they could probably put the money they get to a lot of use around here…if they tried.”

The man smiled at her, but it didn’t remove the hollow and dull look in his eyes.

A brief pause passed over the two adults as they observed each other.

He was attractive.

He was tall and lean, but with close observation MJ could make out the slight definition of his muscles along his arms.

MJ felt a flush run over her, as a feeling of awkwardness filled her as she realized she had openly checked him out. It didn’t help that she wasn’t always the best at talking to new people. Once she opened up she could actually be quite talkative, and even a bit bubbly.

“Say something idiot,” MJ thought to herself.

“Soo, you’re new to the building right?” She asked, “I think I live in the same hall as you.”

“I saw you too,” he said, before adding, “not that I was watching or anything, it was just an observation…and I'm just going to quit talking now.”

MJ laughed as she nervously tugged on one of her curls that had once again fallen from the bun on top of her head.

“Are you heading up?” She asked.

“Yeah I am,” the man replied, “and, you?”

MJ nodded before nodding her head to the stairwell, “Do you want to walk up together?”

MJ flinched inwardly, “Way to sound like some awkward teen.”

The man laughed before making his way to the stairwell, and held the door open, “After you.”

MJ gripped the strap of her purse tightly before heading up the stairs.

The stairs barely fit the two of them together at the same time, but they managed. Both were conscious enough to stay as close to opposite walls to maintain space.

The sound of their footsteps echoed in the stairwell.

“Are you from around here?” MJ tried to make conversation.

The man glanced over at MJ, and nodded, “Yeah, I grew up in Queens, and decided to move here to be closer to school.”

“Oh, do you go to school at Empire State University?“

“Yeah, I do,” her nameless neighbor responded, “do you go to school there?”

MJ nodded, “Yep, I’m a sophomore.”

The man smiled before jokingly replying, “Ah I remember being a sophomore once.”

“Oh yeah?” MJ rolled her eyes, “Must have been a lifetime ago, old man.”

“What if it was,” he snarked back.

“Well then I must say your..well preserved for such an old man.”

The man laughed, and when he did, it warmed MJ’s heart.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

They reached the stop of the stairwell, and the man grabbed the door open, and nodded his head towards MJ.

“Well, I guess this is it, neighbor,” MJ grinned, nodding towards her door, “This is me.”

“And this is me,” the man nodded at the door that was a few doors down from her.

The two stared at each other before MJ tore her eyes away from the deep brown eyes that belonged to the man in front of her.

“Wait!” The man spluttered.

MJ turned towards her hall neighbor.

The man reached out a hand, “Um, my name is uh Peter Parker.”

Peter Parker. MJ thought to herself. The name somehow suited him.

MJ placed her hand in his hand and shook it gently, “My name is Mary-Jane Watson, but people just call me MJ.”

Peter smiled, a small spark in his eyes shown.

MJ didn’t know it yet, but it was a spark she’d long to see in the future.

“It was nice to meet you, MJ.”

“Same to you Peter Parker.”

With that the two made their way to their own doors. They gave each other one last smile before parting ways.

Let me know what you guys think!! Or things you wish could happen, I’m open to many things :)