Hi! Could You Repost The Blurb About The Reader Climbing Into Peter's Lap While He's Playing Video Games?

Can i request a fic were Wilson is a morning person but since reader came into his life he has been staying in bed longer or/and taking more time to have breakfast 😉

A/N: I’m so sick and tired of Tumblr making my photos so shitty 😭😭 anyways thx for the request hope this is good! Sorry if it’s short

Fluff Oneshot

⚕️Mornings with you

James Wilson x Gn!Reader

James has always been a morning person. He got dressed, ate a quick breakfast, brushed his teeth, blow-dried his hair, and then went off to work. You are not. But ever since you came into his life, he’s stayed in bed waiting for your eyes to flutter open so he can wake you up with kisses. It’s made you question your faith to the term ‘night owl’. He’s made sure you get up early enough to eat breakfast and get to work on time. To say he spoiled you was an understatement; he worshipped you. If he got up early enough, he loved to make you your favorite breakfast so he could surprise you with it in bed. He loved seeing the tired smile on your face when you woke up. Today was no different.

🔆

The sweet smell of pancakes and fresh fruit fills your lungs as you wake up. A small yawn escapes your mouth as you turn over, arms falling across your boyfriends chest. A sweet kiss is pressed to your temple in turn.

“Good morning my love.”

You groan, face buried in his chest, in response but make sure to kiss him back.

“I made us breakfast.”

“It smells good.” You mumble in a half-awake haze. James’s hands find themselves in your hair as he twirls on your beautiful locks. Despite how much you want to stay in bed with him all day, you realize you should probably get going. It was nice living with James; previously you had to set 15 dozen alarm clocks to make sure you get to the hospital on time, but now you had a live in one, one that awoke you with kisses and delicious gourmet food. You could get used to it.

One final groan pushes through your lips as you make your way off of him to go eat breakfast, your end target motivating you along with your boyfriend, who stood up with you and hugged you from behind as you walked through the house. Breakfasts for James usually meant scarfing down really whatever he could find before finishing his morning routine and leaving; but when you came into his life, his home, he wanted to give you everything you’ve ever wanted. He made sure that you weren’t stuck with shitty food or nothing at all. When you came to live with him, breakfasts now meant him waking up early to make you only the best and eating with you as you cuddled up together and watched a bit of TV, listened to music, or just talked.

You walk into the living room and take a seat on the comfy couches, one of the many things you loved about his house. You grabbed a plate and plopped down, James following, and took a bite as you leaned into him.

“Holy shit— this is so good?!” You exclaimed. Sure, you were used to the food he made being good, but today it felt like it was made with extra love. He blushed a pink hue and you find it adorable that you can make him flustered with just a small compliment.

“Only the best for you.” He hums as he smiles, taking a bite himself as you continue.

“You know, I think I’m starting to like mornings,”

“Oh yea? Why’s that?”

“because I get to spend them with the best boyfriend in the world, who makes me the best pancakes ever.”

what i want to be under vs what i am under

Here you will find all of my Gally fics.

Will be updated with every new one that comes out!

Keep reading

Y/N, Zack, and Jay are sitting on a bench

Daniel: Why do you guys look so sad?

Y/N: Sit down with us so we can tell you.

*Daniel sits down*

Zack: The bench is freshly painted.

I FINISHED THE SHOW. I AM DISTRAUGHT BUT ALSO THAT ENDING WAS SO SWEET.

Hi can I ask for a blurb where Peter accidently hits the reader while playing or something like he sometimes forgets about his super strength but fluff at the end please 🥺.

this got away from me but this was so fun and cute to write!

“I kinda want a black eye.” 

Your boyfriend slowly lowered the bag of peas on his left eye, his elbow dropped daringly, forcing you to look at the dark purple hue. 

“Oh, really?” 

You nod, “it looks gnarly but it’d be cool to have one.” 

“Baby, my heartbeat is currently taking place from my eyeball. You don’t want one.” 

Stretching across the space on the couch you raise Peter’s hand back up so he can ice the bruise some more, it does look painful. 

“I think if you loved me you’d give me one.” 

Peter took a second to see if that sentence would resonate with you but it hadn’t. 

“We should go to the women's shelter and spread that knowledge.” 

You scoff, “they weren't asking for it, Peter. I am.” 

Your boyfriend lowered his temporary ice pack and reached a hand out, his thumb rubbed under your eye, you almost thought he was thinking about it. Almost. 

“I’d never. I would, however, patch you up if you ever got one.” 

“Do you have a friend that could-” 

“No.” 

—------------------------------------

Oh FUCK did your eye HURT. 

It was on a level ten throb level, it felt like a ring stretching to your eyebrow and nose. You couldn’t even open it, all you could do was press your hand to it and try and stop the pressure from building, it didn’t work. 

You were able to blink it open just enough to be blinded by the living room light, you’ve never been so light sensitive. Squeezing it shut you winced, you tried to be understanding and calm; it was an accident after all. But the pain was spreading all over your face and you had a target right on the corner of your right eye, and it hurt. 

If your right eye could open it’d be shedding tears too, you had one continuance stream coming from your left eye. 

Your voice bubbles with pain, “petey, it hurts.” 

Your boyfriend couldn’t even breathe right now, he had hurt you. The one thing he swore he would never, could never do, and he did it. Panic flooded his body, panicked he’s caused serious damage, panicked you’d be scared of him, panicked you’d dump him, panicked your dad would come curbstomp him. 

“It hurts so bad,” he knows you’re calling out for him, he knows you need him, but all he could replay was the ‘whack!’ in his head. It wasn’t gentle in the slightest, you whipped away from him with a hiss, your hand immediately covering your eye. You had been okay at first but after a minute had passed it became nearly unbearable.

Peter knows how bad a black eye hurts, and he just gave you one. 

His short, barely there breaths start to stutter.  

And suddenly Peter couldn’t see because his vision was muddled by tears, he tried to blink them back but they ran. He can’t remember the last time he’s cried, but this brought him to his knees. He never wanted to punish himself more than in that second. He should’ve been quicker, he should’ve known you were behind him, he has those goddamn senses and they did nothing in that moment. 

“Peter!” A desperate cry for attention, you don’t know what to do, it hurts more than you could imagine. 

You look up at your boyfriend still standing in shock where he jumped away from you after hitting you directly in your eye. A wrestling battle, you had tried to take him down after he’d pinned you three times. In an effort of a sneak attack you crawled up the couch and tried to jump on his back where he sat on the floor. You dived and at the last moment his hand… well you don’t know what he was trying to do but it connected hard to your cheekbone. 

Your back hit the couch and you held your hand as you hissed and groaned in hurt, Peter scrambled up and backed up behind the coffee table, as if he was scared to be around you.  

He’s crying, your boyfriend’s crying. You’ve been punched and he’s crying. 

“I’m.. I’m sorr.. Fuck.” Peter snaps out of it, you need him. He crosses to the couch in two steps, his hand cupping your cheek. It makes everything in him deflate when you flinch as he touches you, he bites his bottom lip to stop a sob. “Baby, I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” 

His heart hurts as you cry, his thumb taps at your hand covering the damaged eye. The one he caused. 

“Let me see it, please?” Peter said it like a question, like he’d ever be lucky enough to have that privilege. 

You sob, “it hurts.” 

Peter blinks, more tears. He can’t believe he’s crying over this, he also can’t believe he hit his fucking girlfriend. 

“I know, I know it does, baby. Please let me see it.” 

You choke in air to stop your crying, it works. You slowly lift your hand off your eye, it’s not throbbing as much but the pressure has inflated tenfold and you couldn’t open it if you tried, it was swollen shut. You tried to gauge a reaction out of him, to see how bad it is. You forgot your boyfriend had the world’s best poker face. 

Peter wanted to curl up into a ball when he saw the damage. 

It was bruising, and swollen and you couldn’t open your eye and it was all his fault. 

His fault, his fault, his fault. 

If he was normal, if he was a normal boyfriend, this wouldn’t have happened. A normal teenager doesn’t have the strength to hold a ferry or stop a runaway bus, he does. And he used that strength on you. 

His powers, his abilities, his strength.

His fault, his fault, his fault. 

“You need ice.” Is all that could come out. A wince wraps over your face when you nod, you try to sit up and groan. “Everything hurts. How do you do this? Pain has to affect you differently, right?” Peter ignored you as he backed away, you don’t think he’s ever been so aware of his surroundings and actions. 

He shouldn’t be getting ice, he shouldn’t be putting it in a plastic bag and wrapping a rag around it, he shouldn’t be grabbing you tylenol extra strength, he shouldn’t be icing your black eye he caused. 

His fault, his fault, his fault. 

It scared you how quiet he was, the accidental punch was just that. You weren’t upset at him or scared he would do it again, you were scared how odd he was acting. He was strangely quiet and standoffish, when he came back to you with ice and pills you watched him think about holding the bag to your eye but stopped and put it in your hand. 

He shifted his weight and looked at the couch, he stepped back and sat on the coffee table. 

Peter cried and was quiet and standoffish and scared to touch you. He was terrified of himself, you may be physically hurt but he was emotionally broken, his one major thing washed down the drain. Accident or not he gave you a black eye, and it was tearing him up inside. 

You hummed when ice hit the hot skin, suddenly it didn’t hurt. 

“Am I right, super high pain tolerance?” 

It’s like you broke through a wall, Peter looked up at you like he just found out you were in the room. 

“I hit you.” 

You would’ve rolled your eyes if you could’ve. 

“That’s a little dramatic.” 

Peter shook his head, upset you weren’t upset. 

“I hit you hard, I hurt you. I…” His hand pulled at his curls so hard you grit your teeth. “I fucking hit you,” he whispered it, like his own mind couldn’t wrap it around. 

He doesn’t pull out the fuck word often. 

You thought about reaching out for his hand, but you think that’d made things worse. 

“I’m not scared of you, petey. It was an accident.” 

“I swore i’d never hurt you, that I would never hit you and I didn’t-” 

“Mean it.” You cut him off, “you didn’t mean it.” 

Peter rubbed at his jaw and blinked, you saw tears puddling and you wanted to do nothing more than hold him. He couldn’t stop thinking about it, you lowered the bag of ice from your eye prepared to switch seats. He wouldn’t let you. 

“Ice.” Cold and hard, like you had no other option. You didn’t question him, you followed instructions. 

“Remember when you asked me to give you a black eye months ago?” 

It was a joke. Sure, you saw a tiktok with a girl who had one and you couldn’t deny it looked a little cool. Then seeing one on Peter the same night you couldn’t shake it. You were just playing around, it’s not like it was that serious. 

“I was joki-” 

“I told you I'd never, and I did. I hit my girlfriend and gave her a black eye.” 

Disgust. That’s what it was. He was disgusted with himself. 

You sat up straight, your lip curled up. 

A black eye? Sick.

“Wait, really?” 

Peter looked up at your excitement, it came from nowhere. 

“You gave me a black eye? I have a black eye right now? For real, for real?” 

This wasn’t a cute or funny thing, and he won’t let you make it be one. 

He hit you.

“This isn’t funny, I hit you and you’re happy you got a black eye?” 

“Pete, I forgive you. And not just cause you gave me a black eye, because it was an accident and you didn’t mean to and you’re obviously extremely remorseful.” 

“But I-” 

You reached out for his hand, “forgive yourself. You forgive yourself.” 

It wouldn’t be instant, until your eye healed, which would be at a much slower rate than him, he wouldn’t be able to fully forgive himself. 

“No more wrestling.” 

You scoff, “no more sneak attacks, how about that?” 

He shook his head, “I don’t want this happening again.” 

“If the situation was reversed would you want me to hold it against myself?” 

Peter scoffed, “absolutely not, but it wouldn’t hurt me like it does you.” 

“So you do have a super high pain tolerance.” 

He snapped and ripped his hand from yours, “yes, I do have a super high pain tolerance. I also have super strength and give my girlfriend black eyes.” 

You held your hand up, the other one slightly freezing from the cold but you were too scared to take it off. 

“First off, plural. Second, please stop. You’re making me feel bad, I’m really okay and I’m not mad and I forgive you a thousand million percent.” 

Peter inhaled sharply, he has to believe you. He’s more shook up than you are and he guesses he should agree with you, you were the hurt one. If you forgive him he could try and do the same.

“I think you need to give me a black eye to even it out.” 

You gasp like your offended at his words, your hand lays over your heart. 

“I’d never!” 

Your boyfriend ran his tongue over his teeth and gave you a dead stare, his hands pushed him off the coffee table. His words grumbled, “toxic.” 

Sherlock being Sherlock

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Reader

Summary: Sherlock undermines Y/N’s intelligence while helping out on a case.

Warnings: none

First attempt at writing for Sherlock hope you guys enjoy! 😊

MASTERLIST

---

"Shut up would you darling. You're about as sharp as a sack full of soup when it comes to these things-"

"Sherlock-"

"And sadly I don't have the time nor patience to draw a picture using crayons to explain it to you. So make yourself useful by leaving!" Sherlock knocked all the scattered books and papers that littered his desk in frustration, they weren't making any progress in the case they were working and they had hoped that the teacher could be of use but she also hit a block.

"Sherlock! Y/N you don't have to go, he didn’t mean that." John wanted to smack his friend upside his head for speaking to the one woman that meant something to him like she's some piece of garbage.

"He does." Turning on her heels, she grabbed her bag and headed out the door and down the steps, John briefly glared at Sherlock as he chased after her.

"Y/N wait!" She looked over at him as she slipped on her coat to leave. John paused on the second step trying to come up with the right things to say to get her to not walk out the door and quite potentially Sherlock's life.

"He's an ass and says things that shouldn't be said-"

"Like implying that my IQ level is in the bloody trenches, yeah I gathered that."

"He's just Sherlock being Sherlock."

"No, that's Sherlock being an outright twit that doesn't have a filter." Before he could squeeze another word out, Y/N stormed out the door slamming it shut behind her.

"You're wasting time John, she’s of no use to us with our case. We have so much to-" John turned to look at the curly haired man that stood on the landing.

"What the hell was that?! You didn’t have to call her an idiot like that for goodness sake Sherlock, she's an incredible woman. A woman that loves and cares for you, might I add and you're self destruction is surely going to push her away."

"Oh so what?" John rolled his eyes as he stomped his way back up the stairs to their shared flat.

"You are going to apologise and fix this with her because everyone knows that there isn’t going to be another woman to put up with you and your brash behaviour. I don't even know how she's put up with you for nine months." Sherlock hung his head low, his words finally catching up to him. He knows that he did have to rectify his mistake of yelling at her and making her out to be an idiot when in fact, she's remarkably intelligent.

"I'm serious Sherlock, as soon as we wrap this up you are going to fix this."

"No, nope I need to go after her right now."

"No, if you go after her that's only going to end badly for your face."

---

The rain was pouring down on all of London at eight forty-five at night and Sherlock's pace quickened in the direction of Y/N's home. He shook off the heavy water off of his coat as he took shelter beneath the awning over her front door.

Y/N placed her bookmark in the current novel she was reading and set it off to the side. The doorbell rung again and this time she willed herself from under her blanket and off the couch to go answer the door. It's raining cats and dogs outside so whoever was at her door had to have a good reason to be.

"Hello- oh, it's you."

"Hello, may I?" As much as she would rather not let him into her home it was cold and wet outside and by the looks of it, he had walked here in the pouring rain; and she didn't want him to catch a cold. She headed back up the stairs to her flat leaving Sherlock to let himself in and remove his coat as well as his shoes.

"Why are you here, Holmes? My level of intelligence is miniscule compared to yours and I'm sure you'd rather be in the company of someone that shares your level of competence." Sherlock watched quietly as she fastened her robe to her body to cover up herself. Y/N was still angry at him for earlier and he knew that. He stood in the middle of her living space, dripping water onto her hardwood flooring.

"You know where your clothes are go change, your creating a puddle." Y/N put the kettle on to make tea for the both of them, not like he deserved anything other than a proper slap across the face. While he was changing he tried to formulate the right way to handle this without shoving his foot in his mouth.

"Could we sit down dear?"

"Nope, I'm good right where I am in the kitchen, you could stay all the way over there."

"Don't want me close to you?"

"Unless you want to be bashed in the head with this kettle I think it's best if you stay far away from me." Sherlock brushed off her bluff, closing the distance between them with his long strides. Crossing her arms over her chest, she stared into the pair of blue eyes she's grown to love as he stood mere centimeters away from her.

"I'm sorry."

"For what exactly?"

"For losing my temper, yelling and for saying something I didn't mean. I didn't mean it when I called you useless or made a comment on your intellect, it was the spur of the moment. I was frustrated and I took it out on you when you were only trying to help." Sherlock brushed his knuckles against her cheek and she instinctively leaned into his touch bringing a smile to his face.

"I get that you were frustrated but that isn't a valid excuse Sherlock. You called me darling and a useless idiot in the same breath."

"I know darling and I promise it'll never happen again. Allow me to make it up to you." The towering man kissed the crown of her head, cheek and bridge of her nose making her heart flutter at his affection.

"You've got your work cut out for you Mr. Holmes because I'm not going to make it easy for you and your astonishing brilliance."

"I do love a challenge."

"I know." Sherlock finally pressed his lips against hers in a gentle kiss which was cut short by her kneeling him in the groin. He grunted in pain and stumbled back, holding his crotch in pain. Y/N smiled watching as he doubled over still groaning in agony.

"I deserved that."

---

Honestly don't know if I'll keep writing for Sherlock but we'll see.

Honorary tags:

@sketch-and-write-lover @blackcat420

canon garrett

just rewatched the episode where hotchner ran in the fbi triathlon and boy was he looking hot 🔥 I’d love a blurb where maybe the reader goes to support and the team finds out that Aaron is dating her. it would be so cute if she was hotch and jack’s little secret

A/N: i love me a fit and sweaty man.

“Who are you looking for little man?” Derek asks as he watches Jack’s eyes dart up and down the spectator line.

“It’s a secret.” Jack grins, wide and toothy, and it earns a ruffle of his hair from Derek.

“Alright kiddo.”

“Hey look, there’s your Dad!” Dave’s voice sounds out, and all heads in the group swivel just in time to watch their unit chief dash across the finish line.

“Dad!” Jack runs forward, the paper sign in his hand flapping alongside him.

“Hey buddy,” Aaron smiles, as Jack drops the sign, engulfing his father in a hug. “You’ll get wet.” He warns, dripping with water from the swim, and sweat from the cycle and run.

“I don’t care, you’re the best!” He shouts out, and Aaron hoists him up in his arms, dark patches of water already dotting Jack’s shirt.

The team approaches to extend their congratulations, and Jack cups his hand against Aaron’s ear just before they step into hearing distance, unknown words being whispered for his dad’s hearing only.

“I think she’s right back there.” Aaron points, and Jack cranes his neck, just as you walk into view.

“(Y/N)!” He shouts, wriggle free of his father’s embrace. Aaron drops Jack feet first to the ground, and the little boy is sprinting towards you. You open your arms just in time, to catch him, swinging him around in a circle, before he wraps his arms around your neck, snuggling his head onto your shoulder.

“Hi.” He beams up at you, and you feel yourself melt.

“Hey buddy.” You squeeze him tighter, rubbing your cheek against his forehead as Aaron approaches.

“You’re wet.” You tell him, and don’t miss the slight flare of his nostrils as he catches innuendo, tamping it down only because Jack is with you both.

“That I am.” He says, a glint in his eyes as he extends his arm. You shriek, attempting to side step the span of his arms, but to no avail as he crushes both you and Jack into his embrace.

“Aaron.” You half whine, half chastise as you feel flecks of water and sweat against your skin. “At least you still smell kinda nice.” you grumble, to which he laughs.

“Dad, Aunt Pen is staring.” Jack announces as he peers over Aaron’s shoulder. It makes Aaron chuckle, as he releases you both from his bone-crushing hug to reveal a blonde, and four others staring at the three of you mouth agape.

“Hi.” You grin, somewhat shyly, before you exchange a look with Aaron.

“Aunt Pen, this is (Y/N)” Jack carries out the introduction on behalf of you, “she’s my favourite person in the whole world.”

“She’s mine too.” Is what you hear Aaron say, as he plants a kiss to your temple. You swear you see five jaws drop an inch further.