I'm Going To Level With You, Some Of You Are VERY Confused About The Difference Between "being A Hater

The most gorgeous besties

𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐆𝐮𝐲

Parings → Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings → nakedness, suggestive, 18+

Summary → Peter gets really giddy when he sees your boobs.

A/N - was inspired by @webslingingslasher 's this little blurb

You stepped out of Peter’s bathroom, towel in hand as you gently dried your hair, water droplets still lingering on your skin. The air in his room was warm, comforting, and the sound of a movie quietly played on the TV. You stood by the edge of the bed, your eyes naturally drifting toward the screen where Peter had his focus locked—well, until he caught sight of you in his peripheral vision.

He shifted slightly, trying to refocus on the TV, but his mind couldn’t quite settle. His gaze kept pulling toward you, and you noticed how his eyes flickered in your direction, widening for a moment.

“What?” You asked, confused but amused as you caught him staring out of the corner of your eye.

“Nothing,” he stammered quickly, eyes darting back to the screen. But his mind wasn’t there at all. Not when his peripheral vision picked up something else—a peek of skin, the curve of your boobs just barely in sight as you moved to grab something from his nightstand.

Peter turned his head, and in that instant, his brain short-circuited. You weren’t wearing a shirt. In fact, you weren’t wearing anything at all.

"Whoa—" His voice cracked a little, and his whole body froze in place.

You didn’t seem to notice at first, casually sitting down on the bed next to him, stretching out like it was the most normal thing in the world.

"Is this... are you asking for sex?" Peter blurted out, his face already turning red as his eyes stayed glued to you.

You laughed softly, looking at him like he was overreacting. "No, just hanging out, why?"

His eyes flickered down to your chest, then back up, his mouth slightly open. "Your boobs are out. Like, I’m looking at them."

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head with a playful smile. "Peter, I’m literally butt-ass naked."

"Yeah, I know! But like—" His hands gestured toward your chest, unable to look away. "Your boobs. They’re just out right now."

"And? You’ve seen them a million times!"

Peter was quiet for a second, clearly struggling to process the situation. "Yeah, but… they’re just there. And you’re chilling, like, I can just look at them."

"Peter," you chuckled, giving him a light shove. "Stop acting like a child."

"I did nothing today, and I’ve been rewarded with free boobs," he continued, not even hearing your words at this point. "Holy shit, I’ve never been luckier than this moment right now."

"You're such a dork," you said, shaking your head with a grin.

Peter blinked, eyes wide, his voice barely more than a whisper. "Is this a thing? Are we doing this now? Like, am I lucky enough to get this for the rest of my life?"

You laughed, rolling your eyes but secretly loving how giddy he was. "Oh my god, Peter."

He finally pulled his eyes away from your chest to meet your gaze, his expression still one of awe. "Seriously, I’m the luckiest guy ever. You don’t even know."

"Peter," you said, raising an eyebrow, "I’m right here. I think I know."

But Peter was in his own world, his grin wide and goofy. "I mean, I’ve loved you for a million reasons, but this—this is just the cherry on top."

You snorted, giving him another playful shove. "Okay, calm down, Parker."

Peter scooted closer to you on the bed, still unable to hide his amazement. "Are you sure this isn’t some weird trick to get me to do something?"

You laughed again, leaning into his side. "No, Peter. Just hanging out."

He let out a sigh of relief, but his eyes flickered back down, unable to help himself. "God, I love you."

"You love my boobs," you rolled your eyes.

"That too!" Peter admitted, leaning in to press a kiss to your shoulder. "But I love you way more."

You felt your heart swell at his words, but you kept the teasing grin on your face. "Better."

Peter laughed, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, his hand resting lightly on your arm. "Seriously, though. This… this is the best day ever."

You rolled your eyes again, but you couldn’t help the warmth that spread through your chest. Being with Peter, even in these silly, casual moments, made everything feel perfect.

"You're ridiculous," you said softly, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.

Peter leaned into you, still grinning like he couldn’t believe his luck. "Yeah, but you love it."

Peter bit his lip, trying to contain his excitement but failing miserably. His wide, boyish grin returned as he looked at you. "Can I… massage them?"

You raised an eyebrow, smirking as you leaned back slightly, crossing your arms. "You're just searching for a reason to touch them."

Peter chuckled nervously, shrugging his shoulders like he was caught red-handed. "No.... okay yes, but… you can’t blame me, right? I’m only human!" His eyes darted between your face and your chest, barely able to keep still.

You let out a light laugh, shaking your head at how easily flustered he got around you, even after all this time. "You are so predictable, Pete."

"Hey, in my defense," he said, sitting up straighter, "you’re literally naked, and I’m trying to be a good boyfriend here by, you know, helping you relax. Massages are relaxing!"

"Is that so?" You teased, leaning a little closer to him, watching as his eyes widened at your movement. "So you're offering to help me relax, huh? Not just trying to cop a feel?"

"Totally!" Peter grinned sheepishly, clearly knowing you saw right through him. "I’m all about helping, nothing else."

You playfully rolled your eyes, leaning back against the pillows, still not entirely convinced. "Uh-huh, sure. What kind of massage are we talking about, Mr. Parker?"

His eyes brightened instantly, and he shifted on the bed, eager to make his move. "Like, a really good one! I’ve been practicing my technique, you know. I could help with any tension you’ve got—neck, shoulders, or… y'know… boobs"

"Peter," you laughed, raising a hand to cover your face, "you really are something else."

"Come on, please?" He practically begged, his face adorably eager as he reached out his hands, hovering them just above your chest as if asking for permission. "You know it'll feel amazing."

You sighed dramatically, though a playful smile tugged at your lips. "Alright, fine. But if this is just a clever excuse to—"

Before you could even finish, Peter’s hands gently cupped your breasts, his touch tentative at first as he gauged your reaction. The second you didn’t protest, he relaxed, his grin widening.

"Okay, this is awesome," he whispered, his hands moving carefully as he started massaging your skin in soft, slow circles. "I swear I’m being professional about this."

"Uh hu, sure you are," you said, but you couldn’t help the soft sigh that escaped your lips as his warm hands worked their magic. You hadn’t expected him to actually be good at it.

"See? Told you I’m good at this," Peter murmured, clearly pleased with himself as he gently kneaded your skin. "I mean, I could do this all day."

You chuckled, feeling his excitement through his careful movements. "Yeah, I can tell."

Peter leaned in, his breath warm against your neck as he spoke. "Can we make this a regular thing? Like, I get to massage you every night?"

"Now you’re definitely pushing it," you teased, swatting his arm.

"But I’m serious!" He insisted, his grin still in full force. "It’s a win-win, right? You get a massage, and I get—"

"To touch my boobs," you finished for him, smirking.

"Exactly!" Peter said, nodding as if this was the most logical argument in the world. "Everybody wins."

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head at his adorable persistence. "You're lucky you're cute, Parker."

"I know," he whispered back, his grin softening as he leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your lips. "I’m the luckiest guy in the world."

His hands continued to move slowly, more focused now as he massaged your skin with just the right amount of pressure. You felt your body relax under his touch, your playful banter giving way to a comfortable silence.

"Okay, okay," you finally murmured, your voice soft as you melted into the pillows. "You might’ve been right about this massage thing."

Peter chuckled softly, leaning down to kiss the top of your head. "Told you."

You closed your eyes, letting yourself enjoy the moment. His hands were warm, gentle, and filled with affection. This wasn’t just about him copping a feel—it was him loving you in his own silly, adorable way.

"Fine," you whispered, a smile tugging at your lips, "maybe we can make this a regular thing."

Peter’s eyes lit up with excitement, his grin spreading wide as he kissed your cheek. "Best. Day. Ever."

‎∗ ࣪ ˖༺ 𓆩☆𓆪 ༻˖ ࣪ ∗

Just watched episode 100

no one talk to me for several hours

I LOVE applying for jobs as a dissabled person!! Its SO fun!!!

(Why does everyone want a damn drivers license for remote work & remote training fuck *off*)

I scrolled through 100s of jobs and qualified for about half, but they all require a drivers licence for no reason!!!

“english isn’t my first langua—“ say no more.

I cut back to S1 whoops

No im maeves arc again

Hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Fuckin

Fucks sake

We do but the crippling pressure to perform to the highest standard we set for ourselves keep us inline

Eldest daughters have the potential to be the biggest menaces to society

Try and change my mind

This next spencer reid fic

I put reader thru it

Whoops

pretty isn't pretty

Summary: Your BAU coworkers throw you a surprise birthday party, but it triggers eating problems from your past. 

Pairing: Emily Prentiss/Reader

Word Count: 1889

TWs: disordered eating, body shaming, panic attacks 

Ao3

Your surprise 30th birthday party was scheduled the day before your birthday.

You’d never particularly enjoyed celebrating your birthday, for no other reason than you were less than comfortable being the center of attention. Having all eyes on you brought pressure and self-consciousness rather than joy. But when your girlfriend Emily asked for permission to plan something special for your 30th, you couldn’t exactly say no.

Ultimately, Emily made the mistake of asking Penelope for help with planning, and that’s when she came clean with you about the surprise party.

You were grateful for the heads-up—you’d never had a surprise party before and weren’t sure how you would’ve reacted under that pressure. But when you stood in front of the mirror, appraising your appearance, you debated making up an excuse to get out of going.

You’d decided on a short black dress that hugged your frame and simple black heels. The dress made you feel confident when you purchased it, but you hadn’t worn it out yet. Now, it felt like it was suffocating you and highlighting your every flaw. Your eyes ran over every imperfection, each appearing more glaring than the last.

“Ready, love?” Emily asked, stepping out of the bathroom and into the bedroom you shared.

Your heart stopped at the sight of your girlfriend. Her raven hair was curled, and she was wearing a tight red dress that took your breath away. You couldn’t help yourself—you found yourself envying her seemingly effortless confidence.

Even more so, when you saw the hopeful smile on her face, you knew you couldn’t back out.

“I’m not sure,” you said, squirming. “That this outfit is right. Do we have time if I change?”

Emily frowned. “We can be as late as you want; nothing starts without you. But are you sure? You look beautiful.”

You turned to the mirror again, as though her words were enough to make you change what you saw. Your heart sank when you realized they weren’t, but you also didn’t want to have to explain to your friends why you were late.

Forcing a smile, you turned back to Emily. “You’re right; let’s go.”

*** The ruse behind the surprise party was that you were dropping something off at Rossi’s that he’d left at the office, and you were supposed to be on your way to dinner with Emily. But even though you were prepared for what was waiting for you on the other side of the door, you couldn’t help yourself from clinging to Emily’s side.

You braced yourself as you approached the front door, hand in hand with Emily, and rang the bell.

“Come on in!” Rossi called from the other side of the door.

“Ready?” Emily whispered.

Not trusting your voice, you nodded.

Emily opened the door to reveal complete darkness. When she hit the light switch, the entire BAU jumped out and yelled, “Surprise!”

Despite knowing this was coming, you still jumped.

“Happy birthday, love,” Emily planted a kiss on your cheek.

“It’s not even my birthday yet,” you said, hoping you sounded surprised enough to fool a room full of profilers.

“That’s part of the surprise,” Penelope sang. “When Peaches told me we were planning a party for your birthday, I knew we had to go all out.”

You turned to Emily, who whispered, “Sorry.”

Well, that explained the extravagance, at least. You were grateful your girlfriend knew you well enough to warn you ahead of time.

Rossi’s house was almost unrecognizable. A fact that, based on the scowl Rossi couldn’t keep off his face for long, he wasn’t thrilled with. You threw an apologetic smile his way, and he winked in reply.

Streamers and balloons hung from the light fixtures and along the ceiling. You followed them into the kitchen, where a full bar and spread was waiting.

“Guys, this is too much,” you flushed.

Spencer stepped forward. “You know, by the time you’re 30—”

“Drink, Y/N?” Morgan interrupted.

You chuckled. “Please. Wine would be great.”

Hotch, JJ, and Rossi wished you a happy birthday on their way to the food. Emily, knowing what you needed, wasn’t far away.

Morgan handed you a Moscato and Emily a cabernet, which you took gratefully, before he made his way to the food as well.

“Can I get you a plate?” Emily asked, resting a hand on your lower back.

“Maybe in a bit,” you said, your appetite dissipating. You’d been unable to eat anything all day due to the nerves, which had caught up with you on the drive over. But now that you were here, the sight of food was enough to make you nauseous. “But you go ahead.”

Despite your insistence, Emily stayed by your side. Gradually, the group made their way out to the backyard, where string lights cascaded like rain.

“Penelope,” you breathed. “This is beautiful.”

Your friend blushed. “Oh, it’s nothing.”

“No, it wasn’t,” you argued.

“No, it wasn’t,” she agreed immediately with a giggle. “But it was worth it to see that look on your face.”

“Speaking of…” Emily said, sliding over to your side and nodding toward something behind you.

You turned to find Morgan and Hotch delicately balancing a three-tiered cake, lavishly decorated in pastel frosting and delicately placed flowers, with what you assumed were thirty candles lit at the top. All around you, your friends burst into a slightly off-tune rendition of “Happy birthday,” but all you could focus on was the pile of sugar beelining in your direction.

Hotch and Morgan set the cake down on the table nearest you, and you felt the blood drain from your face as you fought to keep a smile on it.

“Happy birthday to you…” The group sang, holding out the last note.

Your heart hammered in your chest, and you closed your eyes to fight the tears that were brimming in them, as you pretended to ponder your wish. When you felt composed enough, you opened them just enough to get a peek of where you were aiming and blew out the candles in one fell swoop.

Your friends erupted in cheers, and Hotch started plucking the candles out and placing them on a plate. Morgan picked up the knife and began cutting out slices for everyone, and you couldn’t take your eyes off the large slices he prepared.

Despite your best efforts, past comments from your mom rattled around your brain.

Are you going to eat all that?

You need to watch your figure.

No one will love you if you keep eating like that.

As if knowing your doubts and wanting to combat them, Emily reached out to hand you a piece of cake. “First piece for the birthday girl,” she sang, leaning over to kiss you on the cheek.

You glanced from the dessert to your girlfriend’s eyes, which were filled with love. But your heart hammered in your chest—what if it was just for show? What if your mom had been right all those years ago?

“Are you okay, love?” Emily lowered her voice so only you could hear.

No one will love you if you keep eating like that.

“I’m just not hungry,” you said, cursing your voice for shaking. “I had a late lunch today.”

Across the room, Spencer frowned. “Weren’t you guys supposed to be on your way to dinner?”

You clammed up. “Um, yes, but—”

“C’mon, Y/L/N, you can’t pass up at least one bite of your birthday cake,” Morgan teased.

Though you knew it came from a place of love, it felt like mounting pressure weighing on your shoulders. And with each passing moment, another one of your friends looked in your direction, and you couldn’t take the attention.

“I’ll be right back,” you whispered, pushing past Emily and back into the house.

Tears blurred your vision, and your chest felt like it was caving in. You weren’t sure how you were still breathing.

The first door you reached, which you were sure was a guest bathroom, you threw yourself inside it, only to discover a pile of coats waiting on the other side. You wiped your tears away to discover you’d thrown yourself in a closet, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

You collapsed to your knees, letting your emotions take over. What was wrong with you? Why couldn’t you enjoy the birthday party your friends threw for you without ruining it?

Why couldn’t you just eat the damn cake?

You cursed your mother, whom you’d stopped talking to the moment you turned 18 and moved out, for still holding such power over you and your inner thoughts. You knew what she said was wrong, but in moments like these, her voice was louder than your own rationale.

When the closet door cracked open, you clamped a hand over your sobbing mouth to muffle the sound. The last thing you needed was for anyone here to see you like this.

But it was Emily’s face that peered down at you. She slipped through the door and closed it behind her, taking the space next to you on the floor.

“What’s wrong, love?”

She offered you her arms and you collapsed in them, letting her embrace you.

“It’s my mom,” you hiccupped through your tears.

“Did she say something?” The instantly fierce, protective tone in your girlfriend’s voice filled your chest with warmth. Emily was no stranger to the issues with your mother, and faced similar issues with her own mom. It was one of the things that bonded you together at the beginning of your relationship.

“No, not recently. It’s just… things she’s said before all came rushing back. And the idea of eating that cake, with everyone staring at me, was just too much,” you whispered.

Emily cursed under her breath. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I should’ve thought about that before letting Pen plan this whole thing. Do you want to leave? I can sneak us out of here; you don’t need to see anyone else tonight if you don’t want to.”

You smiled into her shirt, your tears slowing. It was a tempting offer, but you knew what you needed to do.

“No. I can’t let her have that power over me. I just didn’t expect it all to bubble up like this.”

Emily rubbed circles on your back, and you focused on the sensation, letting your breathing return to a normal rhythm.

“Take as long as you need. We’re not in a hurry.”

You wanted to ensure you wouldn’t fall apart in front of your friends again, so you gave yourself a minute to collect yourself. Just as you were about ready, Emily whispered in your ear.

“Who would’ve thought? The two of us, back in the closet together.”

You coughed out a laugh, surprising yourself with it. Emily joined in and the two of you fell against each other, letting the giggles ride out. When you were ready, you kissed your girlfriend gently, and she helped you to your feet. She always knew what to say to make you laugh.

“I love you,” you said.

“I love you, too,” Emily replied, taking your hand. “You ready?”

“Yes. But if Spencer tries to make another comment about being 30, I might kill him.”

Emily squeezed your hand, kissing the back of it. “Don’t worry, I’ll help.”