#Back at it again making pete look way cooler than he is

[webbelzebub]

thinking abt this fic where pete has a permanent green streak where wiggly touched his hair...

[tgmsunmontue]

More than movie magic... 23/24

Hangster AU. Explicit (Chapter 16). Jake is a Hollywood actor and Bradley is a stunt coordinator. Jake's about to make a few self-discoveries. So is Bradley.

ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN ELEVEN TWELVE THIRTEEN FOURTEEN FIFTEEN SIXTEEN SEVENTEEN EIGHTEEN NINETEEN TWENTY TWENTYONE TWENTYTWO

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

                Bradley wakes slowly, it’s already better than yesterday morning, no incessant buzzing of a phone, no alarm at all, just the slow coming back to awareness and the feel of Jake beside him, warm and asleep, little snuffling sounds he’s sure Jake will deny ever making. They only have four hours of filming today, although it will likely stretch to six or seven given yesterday’s interruptions. He feels tender, emotionally, like he’s reopened all his old wounds and reminded of the hurt they caused, like a fresh bruise, but knows from experience that the feeling will fade away again, there until he goes and pokes at it again.

                He rolls to give Jake a quick hug, his need to use the bathroom far more pressing than anything else. He tucks the blankets around Jake to make sure he doesn’t get a blast of cooler air and pads quietly to the bathroom. After finishing and washing his hands, downing a glass of water he grabs his phone and turns it on, realizing his mistake as it starts vibrating and beeping with notifications and he quickly puts it into silent mode and shoves it under a cushion, hoping it will muffle the worst of the vibrations.

                He hasn’t looked at any social media since yesterday morning, doesn’t care for it, although he does have several accounts, some of which are necessary for promoting his work, while others are private and locked down with only a handful of people. He has a non-private personal one for work, which he has Brigham manage for the most part, posting a picture every three to four days. It’s this one which has gone nuts with new followers and notifications and there it is right at the top.

                The photo Pete took last night, his nose and forehead taking up far too much space in the foreground, but then there is Tom looking resigned and quietly happy if you know him well enough, Bill smiling slightly whereas Kaye is beaming. Bradley and Jake aren’t looking at the camera, instead looking at each other, clearly caught saying something to one another just before they turned for the photo and he wonders exactly how many shots Pete took. He and Jake looks good together though, happy and relaxed and he guesses it’s Pete’s way of approving of it and supporting it. Then he reads the caption.

                Oh. Holy shit.

                He’s tagged Tom.

                Tom who is never tagged in anything except official trailers, press releases and people trying to get his attention. Never candid shots that largely feature Maverick’s nose as a starring feature.

                Holy shit.

Delicious dinner with the boyfriend, son, son’s new boyfriend and his parents. Always humbling when you’re not the most famous person at the table. Thank you Seresin family for your warm Southern hospitality.  @TKazanskyOfficial @JSeresin @2Brad2Sad @MmmKaye

                Pete has never referred to Tom as anything more than a friend, a colleague, sometimes, rarely, a close friend. Never boyfriend. He wouldn’t have posted this without Tom’s okay, and then his conversation with Tom comes into focus and he wonders if he’s going to see a picture of an engagement ring and he frantically goes searching… nothing. Yet. Oh god. What if Pete is also planning on proposing? He wouldn’t ask or tell Bradley first, he’d just go ahead and do it. If he has any grey hairs, they’re totally because of Pete.

                This is insane, and a quick scan through the comments tells him it’s blindsided a lot of people. Not anyone close to them, though he can see a few comments from people like Natasha and Bob. He lets out a long breath, taps his phone against his forehead before sending a quick message to Tom, asking him if he’s okay, if he thinks Pete is planning anything else. Not that it matters, far too late to do anything about it now. He puts his phone into do not disturb mode and slides back into the bed, grins when he hears Jake’s little grunt of displeasure at his cooler skin, pulls him close to help himself warm up and to annoy Jake a little, kisses his shoulder and lets himself savor the moment.

                “Hey…”

                “Hi. Morning.”

                “Mmm. It is morning. A good one, too.”

                “What makes a good morning?” Bradley asks, wondering if he could maybe get another hour of sleep. He still feels tired. Emotionally hungover, that’s what his therapist would say.

                “Waking up with you and nowhere to be for a couple of hours.”

                “Mmm. Yeah. That is pretty good.”

                “And no phone calls. That’s a bonus.”

                “You turned your phone off remember?”

                “Ugh. Damnit.”

                Bradley can’t help but laugh as Jake pulls the sheets and blankets over his head, clearly refusing to engage with the real world and he pulls the blanket over his own head.

                “I’m not going to make you turn it on. We can still be asleep as far as the rest of the world is concerned.”

                “Or otherwise occupied.”

                “Yeah, that works too…”

…            …            …

                Later, after Bradley’s learnt the taste of Jake’s come, had his own come licked from his stomach, mentally thanked whoever it was that stocked extra toothbrushes, they shower and dress, stomachs grumbling at the later hour. He’s so used to eating breakfast around seven that now that it’s nine he really isn’t coping, pretty sure he has the beginnings of a caffeine withdrawal headache starting behind his eyes.

                “Coffee… and then food.”

                “Good plan.”

                They walk hand and hand to the mess hall, plenty of people are out and about and it definitely has the vibe of a small village community. Jake seems to be constantly smiling and he likes that a lot, wants him to always look happy and relaxed when they’re out together. He spies Reuben sitting beside Tom, deep in conversation; Bob and Natasha getting more coffee and they follow them back to their table with their on food and coffee, all exchanging various greetings.

                “Hey Tom. Where’s Pete?”

                “Still in bed. He and Kaye drank a lot more after you two left. They’re both now suffering the consequences of their actions,” Tom says, looking serious but the corner of his lip is twitching so Bradley knows there is more coming. “Bill thought it was a good time to chop some wood this morning and I thought I might practice the piano…”

                “You… you can’t play the piano,” Bradley states, because while Tom knows music, he’s definitely more dedicated to the strings rather than the piano.

                “I know,” Tom grins, and his grin is sly and amused.

                “You’re evil,” Jake breathes beside him, and he looks absolutely delighted.

                “I control the force known as Pete Mitchell, of course I’m evil.”

                “The fact that you think you control him is delusional, but sure…” Bradley mutters.

                “You have a valid point, doesn’t stop most of Hollywood thinking that I do though.”

                “Especially now. Boyfriend,” Bradley says with a smirk, shoving a spoonful of oatmeal into his mouth. Tom lets out a sigh and looks to the ceiling like he will somehow get strength from some heavenly body, but Bradley knows it all a front, especially considering their conversation yesterday.

                “What? What are you talking about?”

                “Have you still not turned your phone on?” Bradley asks and Jake shakes his head, expression clearly indicating that he still doesn’t particularly want to turn it on. He pulls his own phone out of his back pocket and unlocks it, opening Instagram and placing it on the table so Jake can see.

                “Oh. That’s a nice photo…”

                “Apart from Mav’s nose and forehead, sure.”

                “I meant a nice photo of you. Us.”

                “Oh. Yeah.”

                “Yes. You look sickeningly in love and the whole world can see it,” Tom says dryly.

                “I’m glad you said what we were all thinking,” Natasha says and Bradley pulls a face at her, which makes everyone laugh at him, including Jake.

                “You’re meant to be on my side,” Bradley mutters and Jake just leans against him, firm warmth and whispers I am under his breath, which gets them eye rolls and gagging noises from his friends.

…            …            …

                He doesn’t see his mom or Pete all day, which is probably a blessing, but he does see his dad and Tom puttering around, his dad using the golf cart to drive them around and he likes that they seem to get on. Probably bonding over being with over-the-top extroverts, which is something they definitely have in common. He works through scenes with Javy and Callie. Is glad that he likes them both, makes work far more enjoyable.

                They aren’t working with any horses today though, nothing more dangerous than a couple of steps and he knows Bradley is off somewhere working on something, he’d said exactly what it was this morning, but Jake had just gotten distracted watching his lips move he’d not been paying attention to what he was actually saying. He might not even be able to pay attention when Bradley no doubt tells him about it later. It’s getting hot, the afternoon heat making them all sweat and there’s only so much the wet-wipes and shade can do to help.

                “Here, got you some water…” Bradley says, walking toward them holding several bottles, cold enough to be dripping condensation.

                ‘Well, he’s certainly thirsty for something,” Callie murmurs and Jake shoots her a look, but Bradley simply looks pleased. Jake grins, reaches up to give him a kiss, ignores the little worm of anxiety and worry when Bradley pulls back.

                “You’re filming, I don’t want to mess you up. I already get enough dirty looks from makeup…”

                “God you’re perfect,” Jake murmurs, reaching up with a hand instead to brush a thumb over Bradley’s lips, smiles wider when Bradley presses a kiss to it, the worm of anxiety dissolving.

                “No. I’m not. I am really really not. At all.”

                “Hmm. Maybe not,” Jake agrees, although he’s pretty sure Bradley is perfect, as in, perfect for him, as cheesy and corny as it sounds and feels. “I know you’re not. But you are very competent. And that does it for me apparently.”

                “Does it now?” Bradley asks, stepping closer and Jake can feel the extra warmth from his body being so close.

                “Like you didn’t know that already,” Jake mutters, knows he’s flushing.

                “I can’t cook very well, and I’m not interested in learning to be better. I miss obvious things. I’m stubborn and set it some of my ways. And I have a thing for your accent…”

                “Not me all dressed up in my cowboy clothes?”

                “Nope. Prefer you naked in bed.”

                “Well, aren’t you lucky that’s exactly where you can have me every night…”

                “You do know I’m right here, right?” Javy asks, the look on his face a little horrified, bottle of water halfway to his mouth.

                “And whose fault is that?”

                “The sun shade!” Javy says, waving his hand at it with exasperation. “We’re all protecting ourselves from the sun. Unfortunately we can’t protect ourselves from you two.”

                “You want me to get Natasha over here?” Bradley asks and Jake’s eyes fly to Javy’s face, Javy’s mouth opening and closing like a fish and Jake hadn’t realized that at all, then again he’s been busy untangling his own feelings for Bradley to pay too much attention to Javy, and he’s not even been home a week.

                “You’re not that unobservant…” Jake says to him, then turns back to Javy. “Callie doesn’t seem to mind.”

                “I’m much less of a whiner,” Callie states, smiling sweetly and Jake cracks up at the indignant look on Javy’s face at the subtle dig.

                “I’ve got to go, I’ll see you later though okay?”

                “Yeah, course,” Jake says, watches a little distracted as Bradley kisses his own thumb and then proceeds to press the pad to Jake’s own lips. He smiles and kisses it, a little embarrassed, except Bradley had just done the same thing moments before, kissing Jake’s thumb rather than ruin his makeup.  Then Bradley’s striding away and Jake watches him, because it’s a nice view.

                “Man have you got it bad,” Javy says.

                “Yeah. I do. But that’s not a bad thing.”

…            …            …

                He’s walking to dinner when he gets a message, Tom’s notifications never silenced due to the fact that he never sends any type of message. Until now.

                I didn’t get to propose before he did. Check Instagram.

                He knew it!

                He fucking knew it. Fucking Pete. He looks around, steps to the side so he’s not blocking the doorway and opens Instagram. There are dozens of notifications, 99+, the little red bubble informs him and he presses on Tom’s profile, a little worried but a lot more curious. There’s another photo, Pete and Aunty Kaye sitting on the sofa, the room dark enough he kind of has to squint to see them. Pete looking very green around the gills, Aunty Kaye leaning against him but with what looks like a wet facecloth covering her face, another one over Pete’s forehead.

Someone partied too hard last night. And as of 5pm fiancé is the correct title. Because I accepted his half-assed proposal. Wonder if @2Brad2Sad is too old to be a ring bearer? What do you think @PeteMitchell?

                There are hundreds of replies, and he’d thought that Pete posting something was to take the spotlight off Jake, but he doesn’t think either him or Jake care about the spotlight anyway. It’s going to be on them eventually. He sees Natasha’s response I’d love to see @2Brad2Sad in a flower crown and he lets out a huff of amusement. Tom posting this, it’s putting the spotlight on them, but it’s not making their relationship the biggest news. He wonders if this is what they’d planned. He taps out his own response.

@TKazanskyOfficial We have a strict no returns policy.

                He slides his phone back into his pocket and heads inside, lines up for his meal and spies his friends sitting at what he now thinks of their usual table. It all feels a bit like high school, with the different cliques, except for the fact that everyone is far less precious about people mixing it up and sitting wherever that want. Tom is there though, sitting with his friends, along with Freddie, Javy and Callie. Jake is nowhere to be found, and Bradley knows he was planning on going home for dinner. The fact that Pete is also nowhere to be found makes him a little uneasy, but Tom smiles at him calmly, which helps settle the worst of his nerves and he sits down opposite.

                “I guess congratulations are in order?”

                “Yes, I guess they are. You do know him very well, but I don’t think he quite planned it.”

                “What happened?” Bradley asks, and he notices that everyone else around them has fallen quiet and is now listening, something Tom clearly also notes with a sardonic eyeroll.

                “I brought him a cup of coffee and some Tylenol. He said he loved me and asked me to marry him. So I said yes.”

                “Of course that’s how it played out. I’m betting that didn’t help his headache.”

                “Nope. He threw up.”

                Bradley snorts, feels bad, because he shouldn’t be laughing at Pete’s misfortune, except he brought it on himself. He’s sixty next year and should know better.

                “Romantic. Is he even going to remember?”

                “Why do you think I posted it to Instagram?”

                “And who helped you do that?” Bradley asks, because as much as he loves Tom, he also knows there are other reasons he doesn’t use Instagram.

                “Rueben. Natasha was too busy laughing at me,” Tom mutters, and he’s looking a bit dejected, because Natasha has never been intimidated by Tom, which he’s liked for the most part.

                “Yep. Sounds about right,” Bradley says, and Natasha appears to still be laughing. “Also, for the record, I’d totally rock a flower crown.”

                He feels a hand on his back, fingers trailing between his shoulders and he turns to find Jake there, face split with a wide grin, he leans down and gives Bradley a quick kiss, pulling an empty chair from a nearby table over so he can sit down, clearly not at the table or interested in eating, but wanting to be close.

                “Do I want to know why you’re going to be wearing a flower crown?”

                “For the wedding,” Natasha says, and Jake rears back, eye wide.

                “Pete and Tom’s wedding,” Bradley interjects quickly, pulls a face at Natasha, although she just laughs some more. Fortunately Jake hadn’t looked horrified at the idea of a wedding, just surprised and he tucks that away for later reflection. “You still haven’t turned your phone on huh?”

                “Well, I did, but only to take a video of my mom. She’s lying on the sofa and very hungover. I’ve never seen her hungover before. Dad said she’s been there all day. I’m not sure if it’s awesome or a sign of the apocalypse.”

                “Definitely the apocalypse if you don’t delete the video. Tom already posted a photo, but at least you can’t see your mom’s face and she isn’t tagged in it.”

                “Oh shit… did you really?” Jake asks and Tom nods. “Wow. I think her days of having a crush and hero worshipping you are well and truly over…”

                “Your mom has a crush on Tom?”

                “Had. I mean, maybe she still does? Pretty sure posting an unflattering picture isn’t going to exactly endear you to her…”

                “I don’t need to endear myself. It’s why I left them alone to their drinking,” Tom mutters and Bradley looks at him, raises an eyebrow. “They were talking about me.”

                Bradley’s now even more amused, because he’s heard enough of Pete’s drunken soliloquys about Tom to hazard a guess as to the nature of the talking, and if Aunty Kaye was throwing in her thoughts, okay, he can imagine why Tom left them to it and then had zero guilt about banging away at the piano this morning.

…            …            …

                He expects Bradley to be waiting for him in the trailer, but it’s empty and he goes through their last conversation, certain that they’d agreed to meet back here. Of course, if Bradley’s plans changed he has no way of contacting him, his phone is off again and he pulls it out of his pocket and turns it on.

Come by the bunk house?  -BB

                He sends back a quick message, saying he’s on his way, glad it’s only a few minute walk, taking the steps two at a time, knocking at the door even though it’s already ajar, pushes it open further when Bradley calls out for him to come in. Pushing the door open Jake looks around at the half-packed bags, reminds himself to not jump to the worst-case scenario.

                “Going somewhere?”

                “Uh. Well, I thought maybe I could move into your trailer, but then realized I should maybe talk to you about it before I just packed my bags and moved in. Ask you.”

                “Oh,” Jake says, realizing that it’s a best case scenario instead. “Yeah. That would be great.”

                “Great,” Bradley says, his smile easy. “You can help me finish packing then.”

                “Moving in together. You don’t think it’s a little fast?”

                “I can stay here…” Bradley says immediately and Jake’s gut clenches and he’s shaking his head.

                “No!”

                “Jake. This is our relationship and our timeline. I like the idea of sharing a space with you. If we can survive working together for the next couple of months and living in a trailer then… well. I was going to say this is like training wheels. But instead it’s the opposite. Trial by fire. But I am not afraid of these flames at all. Don’t feel like I’m in any danger of getting burnt.”

                Bradley has moved close to him and Jake swallows, lets his hands settle on Bradley’s hips, rests his forehead against his neck.

                “Listen to you, being all poetic.”

                Bradley scoffs.

                “I’m just… how often are we going to be working together on the same film, same location and sharing a trailer? Our future is going to have chunks apart, seems a waste to not spend every moment I can with you while I can.”

                Jake nods, breath shuddery in his lungs as he processes the words. Future. The surety and calmness of Bradley’s tone is centering and he pulls back to better reach his lips and kisses him, lets himself enjoy the scrape of stubble and Bradley’s moustache across his skin, already feeling the curl of warmth that everyone is going to know just by looking at him that he’s been kissing Bradley. A lot. It’s a gentle kiss, tender, one he feels is filled with promise and understanding rather than the desire to arouse someone. Sweet.

                “I love you,” Jake says quietly, the truth of it washing through him. Bradley’s grin is slow and Jake is reminded that while he’s mostly nothing but lovely and sweet, Bradley can also be a bit of an asshole. “If you Han Solo me right now I’ll –”

                “I love you too.”

[laurfilijames]

Even When...

Part 2

Part 1

Pairing: Pete Dunham x reader

Words: 2.1k

Warnings: Nudity. Mentions of a fever/the flu. Swearing. Mentions of alcohol.

Summary: Pete continues to look after you while you're sick, but with a match on tonight, you convince him that it's fine he goes to the pub to watch it with his mates.

A/N: Yes, I am this bitch and write myself comfort fics when I'm sick because why wouldn't you?!

---

Pete smiled when he heard the door to the flat open and close quietly again, knowing it was Dave following through on his soup delivery, and he would make sure he kept his own word in buying him his next round, or two, the next night they were down at The Abbey.

He didn't feel much like sleeping, it was still early after all, but he was more than content to lay in bed holding you, keeping a close eye on you as your body worked hard to fight off this bug that was unfairly plaguing you.

His stomach growled, reminding him he hadn't eaten anything other than the sarnie he scarfed down at lunch, and despite being hot from the amount of heat you were giving off from your fever, he stayed put.

After a few minutes, he stuck his leg out from under the covers that was closest to the edge of the bed, getting some relief from the cooler air in the room, and he reached his hand up that was wrapped around you to feel your forehead.

"Fucking Christ," he muttered, concerned with how much you were burning up.

Your skin was clammy and damp, and he tossed the duvet off of you to let some of the heat out.

"Shh, shh, you're alright," he spoke, the sudden change in temperature making you stir and whine.

You had a hoodie on, and even though he knew you would be sweating, Pete slipped his hand up under it to confirm.

"Alright, come on," he said, moving off the bed, "we need to get you in the shower, you're overheating."

He guided you up to sit on the edge of the bed and leaned down to kiss your head. "Wait here a tick, alright?"

You reluctantly opened your eyes, the pain showing in them breaking his heart, and slowly nodded yes.

As quickly as he could, he scooted through the living room to grab the soup from the door and stuck it in the fridge before running into the bathroom to get the shower running. He set two towels down on the sink so they'd be handy to grab afterward, and slipped out of his boxers as he made his way back to your room.

"Right, c'mere," he cooed, grabbing the edge of your hoodie and whisking it up over your head, reminding him how he undressed you similarly last night, only in a very different context.

"Hang on to me," he instructed, giving you a moment to wrap your arms around his neck as he lifted you off the mattress and carried you through the flat to the bathroom.

Stepping carefully into the shower, he continued to hold you until you got used to the temperature of the water, standing directly under the showerhead with you until your tight grip on his neck loosened slightly.

"You alright?" he asked, leaning his head back slightly to try to see your face.

You nodded, "Yeah, I think so."

"Right, easy now," he coaxed, slowly letting you down to stand on your own. His arms wrapped securely around your body, allowing you to lean on him completely without risk of falling, knowing you were using what little energy you had to keep yourself upright.

Your head rested against his chest, feeling the water run down your skin and his hands smooth up and down your back in a calming pattern, the surety emanating off of him giving you enough strength to make you feel like you could stay like that for hours.

The water was somehow perfect, not too hot or cold, and as you stood under its stream, you felt even more comforted as Pete slowly began to sway on the spot.

"How do you feel?" he asked after a few minutes of quiet other than the soothing sound of water.

"Hmm, better," you spoke, your voice still tired, peeling your face away from his chest to glance up at him with a weak smile.

"You want to stay here for longer?"

"Maybe a little bit," you admitted, burying your face against him again, your cheek landing on his West Ham crest tattoo that decorated the space over his heart.

"Long as you want, love."

You smiled against his skin when he kissed your head and continued to gently move with you, letting your fingertips ghost in circles on his back in a way you hoped silently conveyed your appreciation.

It wasn't clear exactly how long you had stayed there for, but eventually you sighed and pressed a kiss to his chest, "Okay, I think I'm ready now."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you nodded, your head moving against him.

Your body followed his movement as he reached forward and flicked the taps off, extending his arm even further to grab one of the towels to wrap around both of you at once. Outstretching his arms, he put it around his back and shoulders and then captured you in a tight hug again, pulling you against his warm, solid torso firmly.

His lips met with your forehead, seemingly unable to kiss it enough, and part of you wondered if it was a way for him to test your fever without being obvious.

Rubbing the towel gently over your tender skin to dry each drop of water, Pete worked quickly to ensure you wouldn't get cold now that you were out of the shower, and once satisfied, he unfolded the dry towel still sitting on the sink and covered you with it before wrapping the now-wet one around his waist.

"You're too good to me, Pete," you praised, watching a slightly bashful smile grow on his face.

"Nah, love, it's what we do," he explained, "You'd do the same for me."

You laughed lightly, "I wouldn't be carrying you!"

"What?" he said in mock offense. "You'd better!"

His laugh automatically made you do the same, and like he was relieved to hear it, he cupped your face and looked at you adoringly before leaning in to kiss you.

Parting from your lips, he took a long breath to calm himself, "Right, back to bed then, eh?" he whispered, his thumbs grazing your cheeks in languid back and forth motions while he rested his forehead on yours.

Tucked up in your bed together again, you were so close to drifting off to sleep when you abruptly opened your eyes, remembering Pete having said something about West Ham playing tonight.

"Isn't there a match tonight?"

Pete sighed, sounding as if he was about to fall asleep himself. "Hmm, yeah."

"You should go."

"'S alright, I can miss it."

"No, go. I don't want to keep you from it, you've already done enough," you insisted, tilting your head to glance up at him from your position on his chest.

He contemplated it for a minute, feeling torn what to do.

"I can't let you just lay here with me all night doing nothing and miss the game, you'll have a much better time at the pub."

You had already heard his phone buzzing over and over with text messages in the time since exiting the shower, more likely than not all from the lads, and now it was ringing, the chimey ringtone of 'I'm Forever Blowing Bubbles' carrying through the flat.

"Pete…"

"Alright, alright," he said to appease you, sitting up and stepping out of bed. "I'll go, but if you need anything," he stressed, his eyebrows raising high on his forehead, "you call me immediately and I'll come right home."

"Promise."

"I mean it."

You settled into his spot, wanting to surround yourself in his warmth and scent and keep it with you in his absence, watching as he got dressed.

"Have a good time," you wished, smiling what you hoped was convincingly.

He must have asked you at least ten times before he left if you were sure you were going to be okay, stepping in and out of the room as he put on his jumper and fetched his wallet and keys, and doing your best to seem as well as you could, you swore each time that you would be.

Pete trotted down the flight of stairs leading to the car park, having stopped twice already to debate turning back and cursing out loud each time as he forced his feet onward. He felt guilty for leaving you when you were this ill, but you were stubborn and weren't taking no for an answer, not wanting to ruin a night of footy for him.

His phone rang again, and he paused and whipped it out of his pocket.

"What?"

"Fucking hell, Pete, calm down, yeah?" Bov said from the other end. "Have you not been getting all our texts? The games about to-"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm on my way, calm your tits."

Pete hung up without saying goodbye, taking one last look up at the flat before getting in his car and driving off.

He checked his phone at every light, making sure he didn't miss a call from you, his mind worrying and second guessing having left from the moment he stepped out the door.

The short drive to The Abbey felt long, and when he finally made his way inside, he took a deep breath to grant him the patience he needed not to be pissy toward his mates.

"Eh, there he is!"

"Hi, boys," he nodded, stopping at the bar to order a round for them all before he got comfortable at their usual table.

Dave walked over, patting him on the shoulder, "How's she doing, mate? Clair said she talked to her earlier and she's having a rough go."

"Yeah, not great," Pete confirmed, a pit forming in his stomach out of sheer guilt just by saying it out loud.

"Ahh, well we hope she gets feeling better soon. Give her our best, yeah?"

"Yeah, will do, thanks. And thanks again for dropping off that soup."

Dave winked at him before heading back to the table, leaving Pete and his growing remorse behind.

He exhaled a long breath through his mouth, his leg bouncing up and down as he rested his foot up on the bar rail while Terry filled their pints, his impatience getting the better of him. He pulled his phone out of his jeans again, thinking he might've felt it vibrate, only to feel more worry wash over him when his screen was blank.

"Hey, Terry, you don't mind bringing those 'round to the boys, yeah?"

"Sure, Pete," Terry agreed, looking at him suspiciously.

Without saying goodbye to anyone, Pete moved through the crowd and out the door, rushing to get back home in the realization he never should've left in the first place.

Taking the stairs three at a time now, Pete raced up them, his keys gripped in his hand and ready to unlock the door as soon as he reached it.

The flat was quiet and the same as when he'd left with the one lamp beside the sofa switched on to provide enough light so it wasn't totally dark, the only difference he noticed being the kettle sitting out on the counter with your mug left next to it.

The thought of you standing weak and holding onto the counter as you waited for your tea to brew made him feel even worse, and he wasted no more time in getting to you as he removed his jumper and discarded it somewhere near the chair by the telly while striding through to the bedroom.

A slight bit of relief washed over him when he saw you sound asleep in his spot, but the need to be with you and feel you in his arms became overwhelming.

As quietly as he could, he stepped out of his jeans and walked over to your side of the bed, carefully crawling under the covers where he caught a glimpse of your otherwise bare body dressed in his brown Stone Island sweater.

He settled up beside you, wrapping his arm around you to tug you closer to him, kissing your head when you sighed and let out a quiet whimper.

"It's alright, darling," he whispered. "I'm back now."

Without waking, you instinctively held onto him, curling yourself into his body, your leg slipping between his to secure yourself to him even more.

He let his lips linger on your forehead, happy to feel your temperature had regulated, and inhaled deeply, trying to breathe in every part of you that he could.

"I'm sorry I left," he spoke against your skin, his hands giving you a reassuring squeeze as he closed his eyes and focused on the feeling of your soft breaths fanning out on his chest.

---

Taglist:

@stealfromthedevil @theesirenteller @inbar-thomas1980

[the-spaced-out-ace]

Lautski Week - Day 1 (Blue)

You know the au where you see in black and white until you meet your soulmate? Yeah.

Teddy had said that school wouldn't be so bad go raise some hell. Whatever that meant. And even if there were any capability of that, Pete probably didn’t have it. The idea of actually going to school with people was already scary, and the principal deciding he was smart enough to go straight into the first grade with the big kids made it worse. Everyone was going to be taller and probably meaner. He’d never deal.

The drab hall lying ahead of him went on forever and ever, or so it would seem if he didn’t at least have shadows and the room numbers to rely on. So he watched carefully for room 12. That’s where the first grade class was.

He wondered how many of the adults or even way older kids saw things way more clearly. After all, they’d be old enough to date, right? And that would mean finding a soulmate. And when people meet their soulmate for the first time, they’re able to see colors. Teddy was able to see color for a few years, before Jenny disappeared. He didn’t speak on it much. But once when Pete asked what colors actually were, Teddy had said they made things so much brighter.

Pete found room 12 eventually, though. He opened the big creaky door and walked around, scanning for the desk with his name on it. All the desks were grouped in clusters of four. Three girls were already sitting at his. One of them said “hi” to him as he approached. As soon as he sat though, something in his vision shifted. The best way he could describe it was a splash, as if the change literally rolled down like the way small waves rippled in the lake if you threw a rock into it. And then everything was different. More diverse in a way he could have never imagined before. Maybe brighter.

Oh. Oh my gosh, he thought. Are these colors?

Pete briefly glanced at the girl who’d said hi before he sensed a strange spark and looked down again. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the light, cool hue on her dress. He looked up and out the window. The sky was the same shade.

Pete quickly decided that this color was his favorite.

“What color is the sky?” Pete asked on the drive back to his parents’ house.

Teddy had picked him up. Pete noticed his car was the same color as the sky and his classmate’s dress.

“Blue,” Teddy said. “...why?”

“I think I see colors now.”

Pete knew of course, just how young he was compared to other people when it happens to them, but he didn’t fully grasp the weight until Ted pulled over at the nearest public parking lot to ask him about it, and if he was sure, and did he know who it was, and what does he think of color anyway?

Pete was fairly sure, and he didn’t fully know really because three people were at his desk group, and colors were so beautiful. He never would have imagined it was to this extent.

Pete shut his locker, already so ready to just get to lunch. If he did, that would be the day’s halfway point, and after enough taunts from Jagerman, he was more than ready to go to Beanie’s like every other day.

Sitting comfortably in his place in the woodshop, Pete went over the sketch of the third stupid bird house he’d be making this year. Hey, Mr. Houston never told him to stop making them, and it was a bit more complex than two separate cutting boards, and since he was here to learn different techniques (even if Mr. Houson almost always gave an A anyway), then he was making progress.

Steph Lauter sat next to him. She’d been speaking to him more and more this year. And every time, it seemed less and less like a prank.

Until today, anyway.

“So,” she said nonchalantly, “Can you see the colors?”

His mind suddenly reeled. No one had ever asked him that. It really wouldn’t matter to anyone else anyway. He knew his soulmate had to be someone in his grade, of course, but who would want to be stuck with him? He truly felt bad for his soulmate, knowing they’d likely be cooler in every capacity. 

Especially Steph. 

So why was she asking him?

But Pete nodded. “Y–Yeah. I can. Since I was a kid.”

“So you’ve met your soulmate, then?”

“Logically, yes.” Pete looked down, trying to concentrate on his work. “Didn’t ever figure out who it is, though. Someone in our grade, that’s all I know.”

Sometimes part of him hoped it was her given how fluttery his mind could get when she spoke to him. Then he’d always remember, he was a loser, and she was Stephanie Lauter. What kind of match made in heaven would that be? Maybe yet another prank pulled on him, this one by the universe itself.

He eventually spoke up again “...can you?”

“See color?”

He nodded. She did too.

“Cool,” he said quietly. “...do you know who yours is?”

“Nah,” she said. She looked at him, smiling. “But I’ve got a good guess.”

Pete could feel himself going warm. He wrote and rewrote his measurements for his draft even more furiously. But he couldn’t ignore her forever. He sighed. 

“Y’know something?” he said. “One of the first things I saw after it happened was this dress you were wearing, because we were in the same class. It was blue. Then when I saw the sky I thought to myself, ‘if anything can be the same color as where outer space is, it must be good.’ Blue’s been my favorite color ever since.”

She stared at him, still grinning fondly. “Pretty clever for a kid, huh?”

He shrugged. “I still think it’s the prettiest anyway.”

The conversation started to fade there. The implications did not take much a further hold in Pete’s mind. It wouldn’t matter forever. Soon enough the universe would give him another chance to make it click for Pete, just how much that day in school when she wore the blue dress mattered to Steph, too.

[ptergwen]

hear me out 7, 14, 17, 19 with peter

ask box |  blurb masterlist  |  main masterlist  |  taglist

w/c: 777

warnings: a teeny tiny bit of suggestiveness

a/n: loved this :,) prompts are linked at the end again & off topic but i’ve been thinking of writing for nate drake and maybe a few st characters so lmk if y’all would be down! other than that happy reading

you and peter are spending the day at the beach. you found the perfect spot, somewhere not too crowded or far from the water. peter is setting up your chairs while you apply sunscreen. you strip your clothes off, revealing a bikini that clings to you in all the right places.

peter immediately stops what he’s doing to check you out, and he likes what he sees.

“is that a new swimsuit?”

you’re rubbing sunscreen into your arms, a smile of feigned innocence stretching across your lips.

“yeah, i bought it the other day. thought it was cute. you like it?”

“it’s…”

peter all but drools when you bend over to reach your legs.

“woah.”

you chuckle at your boyfriend’s reaction and squirt more sunscreen into your hand.

“you’ve always had a way with words. now, lemme do you.”

you reach out to put the sunscreen on peter’s face, but he ducks away.

“no thanks. i don’t need it. i’m trying to tan, remember?”

“that’s not how it works, pete. even if you’re tanning, you still need to protect your skin. the knowledge you lack in skincare is concerning.”

“but, babe. i’m so pale.”

“and if you don’t use sunscreen, you’re gonna burn like a crisp.”

“i’ll take my chances.”

peter smirks and pecks your cheek, continuing to set up your stuff. you sigh and take a seat in one of the chairs. you watch as peter tries to stake an umbrella in the ground. he mutters in annoyance to himself, muscles flexing with each movement. you thoroughly enjoy the view of him shirtless and sweaty, hard at work.

“phew, got it.”

peter falls into his chair, raking his fingers through his frizzy curls. you pass him a water bottle from the cooler.

“good job, pete. hydrate, it’ll come in handy.”

“you’re such a mom.”

“you love it.”

“i do, and i love you.”

peter gulps down the cool water, laying back in his chair and extending his legs in the sand. you grab a drink for yourself with a grin.

“love you too, dork.”

you read a novel you’d recently picked up while peter works on his tan. it’s painstakingly hot out, but the shade from the umbrella helps. you reapply sunscreen every once in a while, and although you offer it to peter each time, he’s adamant on not needing it.

you’re too invested in your novel to notice the change in the weather. the sun has gone in, hidden somewhere behind the clouds. it’s not until a raindrop lands on the page you’re reading that you realize it’s raining.

“pete? did you feel that?”

he doesn’t answer. you fold the corner of the page you’re on and close the book, squeezing peter’s shoulder.

“peter?”

peter jolts up in his chair, pushing his sunglasses onto his head.

“huh? i fell asleep.”

you pull down your sunglasses to get a better look at him, mouth hanging wide open. peter makes a face.

“why are you looking at me like that?”

all you can do is point at his chest. peter follows your finger, his eyes nearly popping out of his head. his skin is completely red. he feels his face, and it’s burning, his nose and cheeks the same shade as his chest.

“i should have worn sunscreen.”

“you think?”

the rain starts to come down harder. peter blinks roughly when a few drops get in his eyes.

“is it raining?”

“yeah, i was trying to tell you. we should get going.”

you begin to pack up. peter kicks back in his chair.

“nah, i wanna stay.”

“but it’s raining.”

“so? we’re already here, and it feels kinda nice. let’s just stay a while.”

you have to admit, the rain is refreshing after being in the heat all day.

peter gets up and walks over to you, grinning.

“c’mere.”

you drop the cooler you were packing and let peter take you into his embrace. you hold onto his shoulders, careful to avoid his sunburn. peter loops an arm around your lower back, thumbs hooking into the straps of your bottoms and chin resting on your shoulder. he sways you two side to side, leading you across the sand, following his own beat.

“what’re you doing?”

“dancing with you.”

peter holds out one of his hands for you to take. you laugh and lock your fingers together, now in the proper position. water droplets drip down your skin, and peter’s hair is soaking wet, but that doesn’t stop him from swaying your body close to his.

“you’re such a cheeseball.”

“you love it.”

you kiss the tip of peter’s red nose, dancing around in the pouring rain.

summer prompts

tags: @mystic-writings @just-lost-inbetween-worlds @lnmp89 @jenoslov @kayasholland @yourlocalomlette​ @starlight-starks

(join my new taglist!)

[purlturtle]

Shoot your shot!

"Holy smokes, Mykes, d'you see that hot lady at the fountain?"

Myka blinked, looked at Pete, craned her neck to look around herself - but there was just the one fountain; this had to be the one Pete meant. And there was only one person busying herself at said fountain.

Helena.

Myka knew Pete thought that Helena was hot - of course she knew; everybody knew. Pete was... pretty indiscriminate with his attributions of hotness. Steve got them, Claudia got them until she put a stop to them (and good for her, Myka thought), Myka herself had gotten them. And okay, right before going on that runway in New York she'd needed it, but after that? She'd put the kibosh on that pretty quickly. Steve was too polite to comment, and Helena?

Myka would bet a pretty penny, or a cleanly handsome twenty dollar bill, that Pete was scared to bring any potential attributions of hotness he felt for Helena to Helena's attention.

So why had he-?

He was grinning, and mugging furious, nodding his head towards Helena in... encouragement?

Myka looked back towards the fountain; Helena had finished refilling her water bottle and was now drinking from it. Head tilted back, one more shirt button open than strictly necessary (as per usual), one hand elegantly holding the stainless steel bottle, the other stemmed at her waist, she cut a- yes, a hot silhouette, Myka had to admit. The way Helena's throat moved as she drank, the fact that a droplet of either water or sweat was making its merry way down her cleavage-

"I'm gonna ask her on a date," Myka said decisively, then gave Pete a grin halfway between triumphant and nervous.

"Atta girl," Pete exclaimed, and held up a hand for a high-five. "Go shoot your shot!"

Myka made her way over to Helena, not caring to quieten her approach. When she was only a few steps away, Helena let the bottle sink, turned to Myka, and gave her a very slow, very appreciative once-over.

"Fancy meeting you here," she drawled, corners of her mouth twitching as she suppressed a smile, but otherwise the picture of ardent interest.

Myka did her best to play along, but pickup lines had never been her forte. Then again, she knew for a fact that Helena liked a direct approach. "You're really cute. Wanna go out with me?"

Helena's eyebrows rose, and so did the corners of her mouth. Again, her gaze trawled lazily down and back up Myka's body. When her eyes met Myka's again, the smirk persisted. "Happily," she replied, head cocked in invitation.

Myka couldn't help the smile that bloomed on her face. She quickly schooled her face back into a cooler mien; it wouldn't do to appear too eager - but then, eager she was, charade or not. And Helena knew it, but still. It didn't really fit the scene, did it.

"I'll pick you up at-?" Myka left the question hanging; she might not have the best pickup lines, but once communication was established, she was usually good and smooth.

"Five," Helena replied immediately. "I'll be done at five."

"I'll be there," Myka nodded, and gave Helena the smile she knew Helena liked so much; the one where she lifted just the one corner of her mouth. Bingo, she thought when she got a smoldering smirk in return.

"Until then," Helena nodded, twisted the cap back onto her water bottle, and headed back into the stacks.

"Ayooo, Mykes!" Pete shouted, grinning like the blazes and both hands up for more high-fiving. "You got game, lady!"

Myka hooked her thumbs into her belt loops and sauntered back to him. "I know," she drawled, in her best Leia Organa imitation, and then gave in to the high-five invitation.

"You'd never know that was your wife."

She socked him for that, but she grinned while she did so, and so did he.

Helena was her wife. And Myka had a date with her after work.

Life was good.

-_-_-

insp.

[free-pool-trash]

dancing with our hands tied - peter maximoff

here it is you guys... the ✨very spicy✨ sequel to delicate which can be read here <3 (had to keep the rep song title theme going here)

please for the love of god let me know how this is I’ve never written smut before so please go crazy with the asks/comments/reblogs on this one I’d really appreciate it😩😓

word count: 4k 😳 (it’s not all smut dont get too excited)

warnings: +18 content, sexy times, unprotected wrap it before you tap it, swearing, i tried to keep vulgarity on a low level but i decided to just commit towards the end lmao, insinuation to sex from the beginning , some fluff and a tiny bit of angst sprinkled in there too, wandavision spoilers

You can definitely read this as a stand alone but it’ll make more sense if you read delicate first !! enjoy <3

masterlist

The days you spent in WestView had been tiring. Wanda seemed to be losing her composure with each day that passed, you watched how she became more and more skeptical of Peter and found yourself growing all the more anxious with the situation you’d run head first into. But, you were with Peter, your mind and his mind were free of Wanda’s influence and she’d been kind enough to appoint the pair of you your own house in the neighbourhood, a few doors down from her own, so, you couldn’t complain too much.

Today was a relatively quiet day, but you had a feeling that just meant you were in the calm before the storm. Tonight was, apparently, Halloween. Despite the fact that it was nowhere near October, you were more than happy to play along with Wanda’s over the top festivities.

Peter and Tommy had just zoomed into your and Peter’s bedroom, sporting matching outfits and excited expressions as they looked at you expectantly, “Well? What’d ya think?” Peter asked, motioning between himself and Tommy. The littlest speedster awaited your answer with wide, hopeful eyes, wanting validation from his cool uncle’s even cooler ‘friend’.

Yeah, you’d made out on Wanda’s couch but you still hadn’t addressed the question of where exactly your relationship stood. It felt as though the pair of you were both actively avoiding the awkward conversation, opting instead to simply fall into bed together every single night and completely disregard the boundaries of friendship in favour of hearing each other moaning until the early hours of the morning.

With a smile you let out a low whistle, “Looking good boys. I gotta say, Tommy, I think you’re outshining your uncle right now.”

You had to laugh when Tommy smirked triumphantly at Peter, “I told you she liked me more than you.” He boasted proudly and your laughs grew louder when Peter huffed angrily. He crossed his arms over his chest and jutted his bottom lip out childishly.

“Y/n, tell him you like me more.” Peter demanded, again, childishly.

You only grinned, “No comment.” You told him airily, making your way to your closet and hesitantly pulling out the latex costume Wanda created for you off of the rail, holding it by the hanger skeptically.

It was Peter’s turn to let out a whistle when his eyes scanned the skimpy looking leotard suspended by the hanger. The fabric mimicked the design of Peter and Tommy’s outfits although it seemed Wanda had gone out of her way to make yours ever so slightly sexier. The leotard was strapless with a sweetheart neckline and a silver lightning bolt ran through the light blue material. The only saving grace was the silver tights that hung from the hanger as well, at least you’d have some kind coverage. With one last peek into the closet, your eyes landed on a pair of white, knee high gogo boots.

“Christ…” You muttered, eyebrows furrowing at the thought of wearing the ensemble out in public, if it was cold tonight Wanda would be in for an aggressive telling off. With a deep sigh you turned to the two speedsters who were both staring at you, waiting for you to say something. “I guess we’re all gonna be matching tonight.”

“Sweet!” Tommy exclaimed while Peter only smirked. Peter, with a lot of effort, moved his attention from your costume to his nephew.

“Why don’t you go hang out with your brother for a while? I gotta talk to Y/n for a sec.” Tommy welcomed the suggestion, only nodding his head before he had sped out of your house and back to his own.

A gust of wind hit your face as Peter sped himself in front of you, the man didn’t hide his intentions as he gripped your hips and pulled you flush against him. Swaying his body against yours and bringing his lips to the exposed skin of your neck. He trailed his lips up your neck, sucking and nipping, smirking when you let out small noises of approval. When his lips reached the spot behind your ear, he gave a final, harsh suck which had your breath hitching and whining when he pulled away.

To be honest, you’d love to be able to call him your boyfriend and be certain that he thought of you as his girlfriend, but at the moment you were perfectly happy with whatever the fuck the two of you had going on if it meant you could keep feeling him against you like this.

“I cannot wait to see you wearing that.” He all but groaned against your ear, his voice deep and gravelly. The butterflies in your stomach went feral at his words and you had to pull your bottom lip between your teeth to keep from letting out a moan from his tone of voice alone, not to mention the fact that his crotch was pressed up against yours, he was excited to say the least.

Your hands slid up his chest and settled on either side of Peter’s neck, you gently pulled his head out from the crook of your nape and teasingly raised an eyebrow at him, “Maybe later I’ll let you help me get out of it.”

A wicked grin spread across his lips, he squeezed your hips in response, tugging you into him even further for some kind of relief then pressed his lips to yours briefly, murmuring against them, “That’s definitely a plan I can get behind.”

Giving him one last kiss, you pried his hands from your hips and pushed him away, “Alright, get lost I need to get ready.”

“Meet me at Wanda’s?” You nodded at his question, letting out a deep sigh you hadn’t noticed you’d been holding when he finally sped out of the room.

After a second of cooling down, you pulled on the outfit and you’d be the first to admit; Wanda knew what she was doing with this one. You looked incredible, albeit a little stupid in the costume, but still incredible.

When you made your way over to Wanda’s to meet up with the others, you let out a laugh seeing as Wanda was essentially wearing the same outfit as you, only with the added extras of a cape and gloves.

“Hey! Why are you dressed the same as Uncle P and Tommy?” Billy asked you curiously, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he glanced between you and Peter for answers. The speedster in question was smirking proudly, his arm finding a spot wrapped around your shoulder.

“Because she’s totally obsessed with me.” He lied with an over dramatic sigh, causing Tommy to laugh.

You rolled your eyes, elbowing him in the ribs playfully before focusing your attention onto Wanda, “I think it’s safe to say that Wanda and I will be winning best couples costume.” Wanda gave you a knowing grin and a not at all subtle wink in response to your statement.

“Only the best for the best.” She replied, walking forward and linking her arm with yours, stealing you away from Peter who whined in protest, “Oh hush, you can have her back later.”

Telepathy definitely had its perks, one of those perks being you could tell there was more to Wanda than just being an evil puppeteer. The two of you got along extremely well, you were actually growing to see her as a friend. It helped that you knew her story, though. You sympathised with her, knowing full well that if you lost the love of your life you’d probably create a false reality to be with him too. You’d already followed him into a fake reality so you supposed it wasn’t really too much of a stretch to imagine yourself in Wanda’s position.

As the night went on, yourself, Wanda and Peter were sitting around in town square, the twins having run off somewhere. Tensions were high between the interreality siblings at the minute, Peter seemed to be having the time of his life getting on Wanda’s last nerve, poking and prodding at her lifestyle choices.

“Lay off, Pete.” You warned quietly, your stare serious as you felt Wanda becoming impatient with the mutant. Your breathing stopped for a moment and you let put a horrified gasp, your hand clapped over your mouth as you stared at the image in front of you.

Peter’s skin was grey, his eyes were milky and he was littered in what you could only assume to be bullet holes- he was dead- no, you realised as you caught Wanda’s pained expression, he was Pietro.

Wanda regained her composure after a few seconds but the sight of Peter dead was enough to shake you to your very core and you found yourself shaking where you stood.

You didn’t even have a chance to regain your composure before shit had hit the fan. It had happened in a blur, Billy and Tommy were frantic and worried about Vision being in trouble and next thing you knew Wanda was sending Peter flying with a ball of energy after he made a smartass comment about Vision not dying twice.

Quickly, you ran to Peter’s side, he was groaning in pain and looking up at you through squinted eyes, “What the hell was that all about?” He grumbled, hiding his head in your lap when you got down on your knees beside him.

With a sigh you let your body fold against his, wrapping your arms around him and letting your head rest against his shoulder, the image of him bleeding out still too fresh and real in your mind. You could berate him for his brash behaviour another time, for now though; you just needed him close.

“Come on, dumbass. Let’s get you home before you decide to cause more trouble.” You mumbled, pulling him up with you. Ignoring his whining while you led him home, your arm remained firmly around his waist the whole way despite the fact he’d recovered from the blast Wanda dealt him after only a few minutes.

When you got back to the house that Wanda had deemed yours upon your arrival, you finally allowed yourself to breathe. Peter was staring at you with a guilty expression as you released a heavy breath through your nose and shuffled into the kitchen, the heels of your boots scraping on the hardwood as you walked.

Like a lost puppy, Peter followed you. Once he reached you lent against the sink he wrapped his arms around you from behind. He knew you weren’t angry at him by the way your arms immediately moved to grip his and tug them tighter around you.

“You know, her real twin- Pietro… he died,” Peter’s face contorted in confusion when you began to speak, he listened with concern as he could already hear your voice beginning to shake, absentmindedly he caught himself tucking you closer against his chest. “For a second… you must have said something that hit a nerve but for a few seconds…” Your voice hitched and you shook your head in an attempt to knock the image out of your mind, though you had a feeling it would haunt you for as long as you lived. When Peter noticed you’d started chewing at your bottom lip, as you always did when something was causing you anxiety, he gently turned you around in his arms so that he could look at you, his arms remaining firmly around you, yours finding a place resting against his chest.

“What happened, sweetheart?” He cooed, his eyes very much alive and staring into yours.

Swallowing thickly you answered, “You looked like him. You were dead.” You told him quietly and he was sure the look of grief on your face, brought on by the thought of him dying, would haunt him for a lifetime.

Your eyes watered as you took in his face. Scanning every part of it, his brown eyes that made you melt, the dimples that could still be faintly seen even when he wasn’t smiling, the lips that took up the vast majority of your thoughts and that tiny furrow between his brows as he looked down at you with worry.

You loved him.

Of course, you’d known this for years. But you needed him to know, and even though you were already well aware the overwhelming feeling is mutual, you needed to hear him say it.

His thumb running under your eye pulled you from your thoughts, “I’m not going anywhere, baby.” He whispered softly, his hand cupping your cheek as his thumb ran back and forth over your cheek bone. Your stomach flipped at the pet name and you nuzzled against his touch.

“Good. I don’t want to lose you ever again.” You confessed, looking up at him through your lashes fondly as his lips formed an almost sad smile.

Gently, he brought his lips down to meet yours, pouring his heart into the kiss, hoping it would make up for the turmoil he felt responsible for causing you. Too soon, he pulled away.

“Believe me, I’m never leaving your side. I mean come on, I’m without you for like three days and I end up being mind controlled by my sister who isn’t even my sister.” He chuckled out, a grin growing on his face as you began to smile too. He let his eyes close blissfully when you brushed your nose against his, a toothy smile on your face.

“You, Peter Maximoff, are completely hopeless.” You whispered through your smile as he opened his eyes to look at you. His own face sporting an adoring smile.

Your heart skipped a beat the second his next words passed through his smiling lips, “Without you, Y/n L/n, yes I am.” Within a second your arms were around his shoulders and your lips were moving frantically against his. Peter’s hands wasted no time in sliding down to your thighs, gripping them and propping you up onto the kitchen counter.

Your legs automatically wrapped around his waist and your hands got lost in his hair, keeping him as close as humanly possible while his lips migrated to your jaw.

An appreciative hum left your throat as he lapped at the underside of your jaw, leaving a mark before trailing his lips back to your mouth. His tongue licked at your bottom lip as he kissed you, moving it into your mouth the first chance he got. Peter moaned into your mouth when you gave his tongue a light suck.

You grinned at the sound and leaned your weight forward so you were primarily resting against his body, your arms and legs wrapped tightly around his body, your ass barely resting on the counter by that point. Welcoming your movements, Peter’s hands glided up from your thighs to grip your ass and pull you from the counter completely.

He carried you clumsily through the halls of the house, bumping into furniture and pausing to press your body against walls, his eyes closed and lips never separating from yours. You were about a foot away from the stairs when you felt your back make contact with the plaster behind you, your chest heaving when Peter abandoned your lips in favour of littering wet kisses across your chest, no doubt leaving a trail of hickeys in his wake.

You let your head fall back against the wall, enjoying the sensation of Peter nipping and licking at your skin, the man diving back to your neck as soon as he realised that your head thrown back made it entirely exposed to him. You released a breathy moan when his lips ghosted over a sensitive patch of skin, he moved his tongue frantically and you shuddered at the feeling of his hot breath hitting your bruised skin.

“Peter…” You whined when he pushed his crotch up against yours, pressing you further into the wall smirking against your neck when you called his name.

“Yes?” He asked teasingly, rutting his hips against yours once more, deliberately attempting to pull another moan from you, he obviously succeeded. His smirk broadened when you let out a huff and tugged his hair so he’d look at you.

Peter swore he was in heaven when his eyes met yours again, your face was red and your eyes were half-lidded, pupils blown wide with lust as your chest heaved. He could’ve exploded on the spot when you tugged your bottom lip between your teeth and looked at him innocently, all the while grinding your hips slowly and firmly against his. Peter clenched his jaw and let his eyes fall shut, his hands gripping your hips so tightly that you were pretty certain the area would have bruises come tomorrow. You were struggling to care about that though, focusing your energy on the man who had you pinned against the wall.

You brought your lips to Peter’s neck, repaying the favour, not detaching until you left a dark, albeit small, purple bruise on the underside of his jaw. Deciding to prolong the teasing for a little while longer you moved your lips up and let them hover by his ear and you began to let out soft little moans in response to his grinding, the action caused Peter’s movements to become more frantic and your lips to form in a smirk as you felt him hardening against you.

His breath was laboured when he murmured, “Let’s take this upstairs, yeah?” Before you could even answer he had sped the pair of you to the bedroom and you let your feet return to the floor.

As he stood in front of you, you took him in, swollen lips and Halloween hair completely tossed, not to mention the tent in his trousers that was very visible despite the layers of his costume. When your bodies collided again, it was a frenzy of hands, the both of you practically tearing the fabric off the other until you were in nothing but your underwear, kissing sloppily and stumbling towards the bed.

Peter’s lips attached to your chest again the second your back hit the mattress. He groped at your right breast while his tongue sucked on the other, swapping over before you pulled him back up to you.

The way he slotted between your legs and how his forehead rested on yours felt so perfect, you couldn’t help but grin.

“You’re gorgeous, sweetheart.” He muttered between kisses against your lips, his hands kneading your breasts as he did.

You were practically dripping by the time his hand slid down your stomach and under the band of your underwear. For someone with super speed he was moving agonisingly slow at the moment, his hand rubbing languidly over your wet core while he swallowed your moans.

“Fuck- God, Peter please.” You whined, your hips bucking into his hand, desperate for more friction than he was giving you.

The sound of your voice, so needy for him, was all he needed before he was pulling your underwear off, tossing the thin material over his shoulder haphazardly and shimmying out of his own boxers, clumsily kicking them away from his ankles, earning a giggle from you.

When he kneeled on the bed between your bent and separated knees you sat yourself up, sliding one hand up his bare chest and resting it against his shoulder while the other slid downward, only stopping once it was wrapped around his shaft. Peter sucked in a harsh breath when your began pumping him softly, the man completely losing it when your thumb swiped over his tip collecting the precum that had gathered and using it to wet the length of his dick as you continued to fuck him with your hand.

As much as Peter was loving the image and feeling of you jacking him off, he knew if you carried on he wouldn’t be able to last much longer. Still, he didn’t have the heart to pull your hand away when you were making him feel so good. His head found it’s favourite spot in the crook of your neck and he groaned out against the skin that was littered with little purple and red marks from his earlier work, which he’d be sure to admire later, “Shit, Y/n-“ He croaked through a moan, hands gripping your hips as he fought the urge he had to thrust into your hand, “M’not gonna last much longer if you keep doing that.” He groaned out, almost reluctantly, not truly wanting you to stop while simultaneously craving more.

You stopped your motions at his statement, giggling when he let out a strangled noise of disappointment at the sudden lack of pleasure. Doing the honours, you lined him up with your entrance, letting him take over when his lips connected with yours.

Peter gently pushed you back until your head was resting against your pillow and your back was flush with the mattress. His lips continued to mesh with yours as he pushed into you inch by inch until he bottomed out. The deep groan he released was music to your ears and your hands gripped his biceps when he began to thrust in and out.

A symphony of moans filled the room as Peter had managed to set a steady pace, trying his best not to let his mutation get the best of him, as much as he wanted to just go to town he was determined to make you feel as good as you made him feel and judging by the way your head was thrown back and his name fell from your lips like a prayer; he guessed he was doing an okay job.

In only a few minutes Peter had you gasping and clutching onto him like your life depended on it as he picked up speed, one of his hands reaching down between your bodies to rub your clit, his hips snapping against yours. Soon enough, you felt the pressure in your stomach release, your walls clenching around Peter’s dick as your back arched and you released around him. After only a few more staggered strokes, Peter moaned your name against your lips, finishing inside of you and thrusting lazily, riding out his high and subsequently helping you ride out yours.

You let out a blissful sigh when Peter pulled out and rolled over to lay on his back beside you, his chest heavy and his blonde hair sticking slightly against his forehead.

“That- that was awesome.” He mumbled, intertwining his fingers with yours, holding your hand by his side.

Over the last couple of nights you and Peter had, admittedly, ended up in a similar position but neither of you intended for it to happen. It’d usually start off innocently enough, with cuddling or just talking and then one of you would move in just that little bit closer and things would escalate. But there was something about this time that felt a lot more emotional than the few times before. “It was.” You agreed with an airy giggle, squeezing his hand affectionately.

A gust of air shook you from your haze. Peter had taken it upon himself to clean up the mess the pair of you had left between your legs, a pair of his boxers and one of his t-shirts now adorned your body matching him as he wore the same.

He was on his side facing you, his arms holding you against his chest securely the same way they had the night you’d shown up in WestView and urged him to kiss you. When he took you in, he kicked himself for missing out on so much of you for so long.

He was certain, one of these days he’d actually speak the three words that followed him around whenever he thought about you, but as he watched your eyes flutter closed, he decided the words would be best spoken some other time. He was well aware you already knew, just as he was well aware that you loved him, it needed to be said. Eventually, but not quite yet.

[hangovercurse]

The Things We Can’t Tell Pete About

Pete invites you to meet his friends from The Dirt and makes you promise not to flirt with any of them, which is a lot easier said than done, especially when Colson Baker acts like that.

Request: “Hey so I love all your writing and I just thought you should know that! But also I’d your requests are on still would you mind writing a youre Pete’s little sister but kells got a crush xx”

Colson x reader

Warnings: Drug use, Cursing

A/N: I know, Dom (Yungblud) wrote the song, but also I am the writer and I say that Y/N wrote it :) Anyways, enjoy. This is only part 1 of what is probably going to be a fun, cute lil series. Also thank you to the anon who sent this! You made my day(s)

Word Count: 2411

| ii | iii | iv | v |

masterlist

New York was lonely without your brother. He had been filming in New Orleans for the past three months, leaving you alone. You had some friends, but Pete was your best friend. You were only eight months younger than him and practically attached at the hip. You supposed going through trauma together would do that to people.

He facetimed you all the time from set, updating you on things in his life, showing you cool stuff from the set, and introducing you to his castmates. You had kept him updated on your music, playing him demos of songs you were writing and getting his opinion on them.

Him being away wasn’t the worst thing in the world, but it definitely sucked for you. So, when Pete texted you that he was having a few friends from the movie over the night he got back, you were ecstatic.

Before you left your apartment to walk to his, he texted you.

You’re not allowed to flirt with any of my friends

You rolled your eyes as you locked your door, preparing a response.

I’ll try my best

Your phone buzzed seconds later.

I’m serious. I don’t trust any of them with you.

And I don’t need that kind of awkwardness in my life

Like if you date one of my friends and it goes badly

I don’t wanna deal with that shit

You chuckled at his chain of texts.

Don’t flirt with your friends because they’re dicks, got it

Don’t worry bro, I know the sibling code

 You came to find out that that was a lot easier said than done. When you walked into his place, everyone in the room turned to look at you. You recognized most of them from your facetimes with Pete, but you doubted they remembered who you were. One who did remember you was Colson, Pete’s new best friend. He made eye contact with you from across the room, a sly grin on his lips. You sent him a small smile, Pete’s text running through your head briefly.

You found your brother lounging on the couch, a huge grin on his face. He was definitely tripping on mushrooms. “Y/N!” He yelled. “This is my baby sister, everyone.”

You rolled your eyes, walking further into the room, grabbing a drink from the cooler, and taking an empty seat on the opposite couch. “I’m less than a year younger than you, Pete.”

You heard a snicker from the one of the guys, looking over to see Colson covering up the smile on his face. “But you’re still younger than me so it counts.”

Everyone went back to their own conversations, which you were thankful for. “Y/N, you remember Colson, right?” Pete motioned to the blond guy.

“Yeah.” You nodded, looking him up and down. His muscle tank exposed the sleeves of tattoos, which seemed to cover every inch of his skin. “Your hair was different, but yeah I remember you.” You opened the beer on the coffee table, taking a swig.

“You’re the musician, right?” He asked you, leaning back onto the couch.

You nodded, “Aspiring musician but, yeah.”

“Oh, she’s great. You should hear her sometime.” Pete butted in, grinning like an idiot at you.

You rolled your eyes but had a smile on your face. “I work primarily as a songwriter and editor right now, but I’m trying to work on putting out some of my own stuff.”

You felt a little intimidated talking to Machine Gun Kelly about music, seeing as he was one of the best in the industry, but he seemed to be genuinely interested in your work. “Well, if you ever want some help or someone to listen to it, I’d be willing.” He flashed a smile, his bright blue eyes sparkling.

“Thanks, that’s really cool of you.” You bit your lip slightly, trying to hide the fact that you were totally breaking Pete’s rule.

Pete sent a glare your way to which you raised your eyebrow. You weren’t really flirting; you were just… making connections. “Anyways,” he cleared his throat, “I’ve been working on this sketch idea, Y/N, and I need your opinion.”

You nodded, letting him talk. “So, I was thinking like, there’s this guy with posters all over his wall. Like life size posters of a bunch of different people. And he falls asleep while doing homework and he dreams about them coming to life. And it plays out like one of those really bad commercials that encourage kids to stay in school and shit. Like the posters are telling him to study for his test, but then there’s this one poster that’s like, very sexy. And she’s just like, talking about hot dogs and everyone else gets really sick of it and one of the other posters tries to like, tear down her poster or something.”

Throughout his description, you got more and more confused. “Pete, that’s not funny that’s just fuckin weird.” His mouth hung open in shock. “Dude, seriously? The big punchline is the playboy poster girl talking about hot dogs until the other poster people get tired of it?”

“Yes.” Pete said, as if it were obvious. “That’s hilarious.” You glanced at Colson with a questioning look on your face. He seemed as unsure of the joke as you were.

“Pete, man, that’s not your best work.” Colson clapped him on the shoulder and you giggled at Pete’s disappointed expression.

“You guys are mean.” He pouted and you two laughed. “Ok, well, how would you make it funny?”

“I don’t know if you can, bro.” Colson’s laugh was contagious. When he laughed his whole body shook, his feet stomping and everything.

“What are the other posters?” You asked, trying to be supportive but knowing this wouldn’t turn out very good.

“Well, I was thinking maybe one is like a video game character. Like that lady from Wreck-It-Ralph. The mean one. And then like a snowboarder who is definitely high, and someone else, I dunno.” He shrugged, taking a hit from the joint in his hand and passing it to you.

“Okay…” You trailed off, looking at Colson for support. You brought the blunt to your lips, inhaling the smoke and bringing it down, letting the smoke leave your mouth slowly. You passed the joint to Colson, who gladly took it, a smirk on his face.

Pete looked between you two at the small interaction, a frown. “So, the posters,” he brought your attention away from the man again, “they’re all really serious about teaching this dude math. But the hotdog girl just keeps talking about hot dogs in like this really high-pitched voice.”

You watched the smoke fall from Colson’s lips, not fully paying attention to your brother.

“Yeah man, I think that sounds funny.” Colson told Pete, his eyes lingering on you for a little longer than they should have. “It could use some work but if anyone can make it funny, it’s you.” Colson punched your brother on the shoulder, but the look he sent you said the exact opposite.

You held in your giggle, taking another sip of your beer.

The rest of the night followed a similar pattern, you and Colson flirting and Pete trying to get in between you two. At one point, after a few more hits of weed and a couple more drinks, Colson brought out a guitar, insisting you play something for him. Where he got the guitar from, you had no idea, but you didn’t ask questions. Instead, you rolled your eyes, insisting that “if I have to play something, so do you.”

Everyone was too caught up in their own conversations to care about the noise, or too drunk. You started strumming, trying to remember the chords to a song you had started writing a few days ago. “There’s no lyrics yet, just a melody I came up with.” You blushed, feeling very self-conscious suddenly.

“Guess I’ll just free style to it then.” He chuckled as you started to strum, your fingers working the strings like they had your whole life.

The blond man closed his eyes, head nodding as you played and thinking of what to rap.

“Watch me, take a good thing and fuck it all up in one night. Catch me, I’m the one on the run away from the headlights.

No sleep, up all week wastin time with people I don’t like. I think, somethin’s fuckin wrong with me.

You smiled as he sang, watching his expressions change as he tried to think up the next line.

Drown myself in alcohol, that shit never helps at all

I might say some stupid things tonight when you pick up this call

I be hearin silence on the other side for way to long, I can taste it on my tongue, I can tell that somethin’s wrong.”

He opened his eyes, looking rather proud of himself. “I had some of those lyrics already, but I just changed ‘em a little. I really liked that.”

You nodded, “That was impressive.” You smiled, looking back down to the guitar when something hit you.

You began to play the same melody but pitched higher to fit your voice.

“Roll me up, and smoke me love

And we could fly into the night

You take drugs, to let go, and figure it all out on your own

Take drugs, on gravestones, to figure it all out on your own.”

You looked up to Colson, watching his expression change, his eyes wide. Pete had a proud look on his face.

“Pete, you are a sucky hype man. You did her no justice.” Colson hit Pete on the arm.

“Whaddya mean, I told you she was great.”

Colson looked over to you, a stupid smile on his face. “Seriously, that was fucking amazing. Like, we gotta write that shit out some day.”

You bit your lip, trying to stop the blush from reaching your cheeks. “Yeah, that’d be cool.” You were trying your best to keep your cool as Colson kept his gaze on you, but you were completely freaking out on the inside.

A little while later, almost everyone was gone except you, Pete, Colson, and Douglas Booth, who joined your conversation not long after your jam session. Pete let out a yawn, directing your attention to the time.

“Jesus, it’s already 4am?” You asked, a frown on your face.

“Why, you got somewhere to be, darling?” Douglas asked you, your face scrunching up from the nickname.

“I have a writing session at 11 am tomorrow. Or, today, I guess.”

Pete reached out to hit you in the head, playfully, which you dodged. “Go to bed, dummy.”

You shrugged, “I’m gonna be dead at it anyways, might as well keep the party going a little longer.”

Douglas rolled his eyes, patting your shoulder. “Be that as it may, I am ending this party and going home. Goodnight, guys. It was nice meeting you again, Y/N. Good to see you guys.” Douglas and the guys did that little hand slap and hug thing before he left.

“I love you both, but I will also be going to sleep. And you should too.” Pete stood up, stretching his arms out before giving Colson a fist bump and leaving to his bedroom.

Once your older brother left, Colson moved to the couch you were on, his arm falling over your shoulders. You looked up at him, raising an eyebrow. “And how can I help you Mr. Kelly?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m assuming Pete gave us both very similar talking to’s, given the glares you’ve been receiving all night.”

“You mean the “don’t flirt with my friends” talking to or the other one?” You tilted your head, a sly look on your face.

“That’s the one.” Colson laughed through his nose, an adorable smile on his face. You were both considerably high, but you still knew exactly what you were doing.

You moved closer to Colson’s body, “Well then I guess we’d better not do this.” You said quietly, leaning into him. “Or this,” You grabbed his jaw, inches from his face.

“Or this?” He whispered, connecting your lips. You smiled into the kiss, tasting the weed on his tongue. You adjusted your body so you were facing him, his arm that was once around your shoulder now wrapped around your waist.

His other hand grabbed your leg, pulling you up so you were straddling his lap, and your arms wrapped around his neck. His lips seemed to fit perfectly around yours, and you did all you could to keep yourself from moaning into the kiss as his hand began to travel up your leg.

Realization hit you like a brick wall, and you pulled away, your breathing heavy. “Sorry,” you muttered after a few seconds. You climbed off his lap, smoothing out your shirt. “We shouldn’t do that. I shouldn’t have done that.” You smiled awkwardly down at him.

He nodded, the same realization hitting him. “Yeah, that’s not the best idea. Sorry I wasn’t really thinking.”

You shook your head, cheeks still very red. “No, no, no don’t apologize. It was fine, it’s all fine.”

He nodded, looking down awkwardly. “I should get going.” He stood up, landing a little too close to you.

“Why don’t you just sleep here? Pete won’t mind and it’s a lot easier than going home.” You bit your lip awkwardly, taking a few steps back.

Colson scratched the back of his neck. This was a very different demeanor than he had before, and you found it very cute. “Are you sure?”

You nod. “I’ll get you some blankets and pillows.” You moved towards the guest bedroom, a guilty smile on your face. You moved your hand to your lips, feeling where Colson’s lips had graced you minutes before.

You came back to find Colson laying on the couch, one hand behind his head. “We don’t have to tell Pete about that, right?”

You shook your head, a small smile still playing on your lips. You put the pillow behind his head, watching his eyes as he watched your lips. “Stop looking at me like that or I’ll do something else we can’t tell Pete about.” You said quietly, watching him grin. You pulled the blanket over him, leaning down to be level with his face.

“I kind of like the things we can’t tell Pete about.” Colson chuckled, leaning forward to connect your lips again.

[theconstantsidekick]

Do you like it here?

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Stark!Reader, Tony Stark x Stark!Reader (siblings)

Genre: Fluff town, mostly.

Summary: Morgan has a question while the whole gang (her, Y/n, Bucky, Sam, Harley, Peter, and Steve) are visiting the aquarium.

Warning: None? Unless you count someone mentioning Tony a warning then yes, that.

Based on a suggestion given by the great @siwiecola I really appreciate the support, thank you so much!

a/n: not really proofread lol. Annie is Morgan's nickname for Y/n cause she's also an orphan, lol. And Tinman is her name for Bucky, but I think that was pretty self-explanatory.

sidenote: Join my damn discord server, we talk about random shit like how we can tie Static Verse into canon after whatever happens in Spider-Man No Way Home!

Bucky Barnes, The Boyfriend (other one-shots) | The Falcon, The Winter Soldier and Static | Static: Get, Set, Glitch | Static Verse Masterlist

“Uncle Steve?”

“Yes, Morgan?”

“Do you like being here?” she asks, licking her ice cream cone. She notices Uncle Steve’s eyebrows go all scrunchy. He looks funny, she thinks. It makes her head fall to the side as she lets out a giggle.

“At the aquarium?” He asks her.

She shakes her head. “No. Here,” she points to Annie with Tinman and Uncle Sam as they scold Harl for something as Pete snickers next to them. “With us.”

Suddenly Uncle Steve stops walking, now her brows are all scrunchy.

He picks her off her feet and into his arms. She goes willingly because Uncle Steve is tall and everything looks cooler from up there, but she remembers to take care of her ice cream. She doesn’t want any to spill.

“Why wouldn’t I like it here?” Uncle Steve asks her, licking on his own ice cream. He’s got the strawberry one. She kinda wants to steal it.

Morgan might be young, she knows she’s young but she’s four and a half now and that’s more grown up than she was last year. So, yeah, she’s young but she is growing up. And as she grows up she notices things. She notices that sometimes Uncle Steve looks at Annie the way Tinman looks at Annie and he looks sad. But other times, he looks at Annie and Tinman smiling at each other and then he smiles too.

She knows she’s young but she likes Uncle Steve, he’s tall and he always throws her really high up in the air and catches her. He lets her play with his hair and put make up on him and he never complains. She really likes Uncle Steve. She doesn’t want to like him too much if he is going to leave again. And she knows he will leave again if he doesn’t like it here.

“Cause you left here,” she answers, waiting patiently as she watches him breathe out. He looks… Well, he looks like he does when Harley calls him a bad word or Annie talks about dad. He looks upset. But he also looks like she does when Tinman catches her after she’s eaten a juice pop after he told her not to.

“Well, Morgan,” he begins in the voice that all grown up use on her when they are about to say something stupid and act like it’s not stupid but very smart.

“No.” She doesn’t wanna hear stupid stuff that they think is smart. She wants honest stuff.

“What?”

“No,” she says again. “You were gonna lie.”

Uncle Steve opens and closes his mouth a couple times before replying, “I wasn’t going to lie. I was going to be diplomatic.”

“Don’t want di-p-o-ma-tic. ”

He smiles. “Alright. You want honest?” She nods. “Honestly? I left cause I thought I’d be happy if I did.”

“Were you?” she asks.

He looks off. He looks like he’s thinking, remembering maybe? He looks like Annie does sometimes, when they are all hanging out and Morgan says something. When she asks Annie about it, she tells her that it reminded Annie of her dad.

“Not as happy as I thought I would be,” Uncle Steve says after a minute.

“What about here? Are you happy here?”

Uncle Steve looks down at her in his arms, and then back at Harl, Pete, Uncle Sam, Tinman and Annie. And then he smiles. “Very,” he answers.

“Hey, punk!” Tinman calls out when he spots her and Uncle Steve. “Where the hel—heck is my ice cream?”

“Oh, they ran out of chocolate and I know you hate all the other flavors so...,” Uncle Steve tells him but Morgan knows he’s lying. He didn’t even ask if they had chocolate. He just didn’t buy any because he’s still mad at Tinman for stealing his favorite jacket and giving it back without the left sleeve.

“Is that so?” Tinman asks, but he sounds like he doesn’t believe Uncle Steve either.

“Yeah,” Uncle Steve replies, like it’s nothing. “Ask Morgan.”

Tinman looks at Uncle Steve like he wants to punch him but then he turns to her. “Is that so, princess? They ran out of chocolate?”

She shouldn’t lie but it’s always fun to watch Tinman get annoyed, so she nods.

But then Tinman rolls his eyes. “Y/n! Rogers is teaching my princess how to lie,” Tinman calls out to Annie behind him.

Annie looks over at them and then her eyes meet Morgans. “I swear to God, the amount of Tony she’s got in her is so astounding, I don’t think Steve even needs to try that hard.” She walks over to her, stealing him away from Uncle Steve’s grasp and putting her on her own shoulders. “You lying again, pumpkin?”

“No,” Morgan answers, trying her best not to giggle.

“That smile’s saying otherwise, princess,” Tinman teases.

“Not lying!” she says again.

And then Tinman, being Tinman, grabs her ice cream out of her hands, handing it over to Harl and then he begins to tickle her.

“You sure about that, princess?” Tinman says.

“I’d be honest if I were you, pumpkin,” Annie adds on.

Giggling loudly, Morgan finally gives up. “Lying! Uncle Steve was lying!”

As Uncle Steve pretends to be hurt over Morgan telling everyone the truth, Tinman picks her off Annie’s shoulders and brings her into his arms. “This is why you only lie for people who’d defend you, princess,” he whispers into her ears.

“Like you?” Morgan asks.

“Only me!” Tinman exclaims. “Now come on! Let’s go get some more ice cream! And unlike Uncle Steve over there, who’s a big meanie, I’ll share with you.”

tag list: @aryksworld @freeflyingphoenix @arikarapli @jakey-stan @justab-eautifulmess @agent-laufeyson @agentmstark @ceo-of-daichi @jn-wolf @eccentricxem @asimovethroughthisworld @paintballkid711 @starkleila @heyitsmereading @fairlygothparents @goldenflickerx @itspetitfantomestuff @ironmansuucks @elsiesjeans @intothesoul @rue331 @thisisparadisemylove @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @geek-and-proud @jesuswasnotawhiteman @fckdeusername @bduchrnskei @mini-kunoichi @mischiefmanaged71 @third-broparcelicito @learning-howto-be-myselfx3 @haleybutnotthecomet @mvaldez7821 @siwiecola

Read the previous installment to this story here.

Find other one-shots here.

Find other Static Verse works here.

please feel free to send me an ask or a dm to be removed from or added to the tag list.

[oopsitsstella]

In Louisiana

Sam Wilson x Reader, Peter Parker x Mom! Reader

Fandom: The MCU

Parker-Wilson Family Masterlist: More stories in the same universe

Summary: Sam Wilson makes a layover in Louisiana after a mission, and and is met with a surprise

Warnings: Tired Sam, much fluff

Sam Wilson was tired.

The mission had been more taxing than he had expected, and now, all he wanted to do was get home, and get a hug from his fiancé and step-son.

Unfortunately, they were in New York, and he was much farther south in the country. During a phone call with his sister just a few minutes earlier, she had managed to convince him not to start the incredibly long road trip back to New York today, because ‘c’mon Sam, you sound about ready to drop’, and convinced him to stay the night with her and the boys.

So now, he was walking up the driveway to the house, heavy duffle bag slung over his shoulder, ready to finally call Y/N and assure her he was okay, when he noticed something.

Alongside the usual truck standing outside the house, there was another car. One he recognized very well.

With quicker steps, and thoroughly confused, he walked up to the porch and opened the front door.

The first thing he noticed when he entered was the suitcases standing at the bottom of the stairs. That immediately made his suspicions even stronger. Then he heard the laughter coming from the kitchen, and he knew he had been right. Sam Wilson could recognize that laugh from a mile away.

His bag fell from his shoulder, and landed on the floor with a heavy thud, making the women in the kitchen turn to look at him.

“Oh, look! You finally made it!” Sarah said, stirring a pot on the stove. “Was wondering what was taking you so long.”

“Cut me some slack, I’m exhausted.” Sam replied, walking further into the kitchen and coming to stand by Y/N’s chair at the dinner table. “What’re you doing here?” He questioned, looking down at her.

“Well, since we were already planning to come down here to visit, and I knew you’d most likely crash here when you were done with the mission, we took the liberty to show up a little early.” Y/N said, smiling when Sam leaned down to kiss her. “Don’t worry, we brought your stuff with us too.”

“I’d sure as hell hope so, or we might have some problems.” Sam replied, before looking at his sister. “So this was why you were so adamant about me staying here.”

Sarah simply shrugged.

“Wanted to spare you the extra trip to New York. You’re welcome.” She said, and Sam rolled his eyes.

“Where’re the boys?”

“Outside.” Sarah said, nodding towards the back door. “AJ and Cass desperately wanted Pete to show off his web slinging abilities.”

Sam nodded, pressing a kiss to Y/N’s forehead, before heading out to see what the boys were up too.

When he got out there, he saw AJ and Cass sitting on a large hammock made entirely out of webs, and Peter helping them swing back and forth.

“What are you boys doin’ back here?” Sam called, leaning against the railing and looking at them.

Peter's head quickly snapped around to face him, a massive grin on his face.

“Hey dad!” He called, and Sam’s heart warmed at the word. Peter had been doing it for a while, but he still hadn’t quite gotten past the pleasant feeling it gave him whenever Peter called him dad.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Sam said, moving to join them.

“Pete made us a hammock.” AJ said, looking rather pleased about the situation.

“I can see that.” Sam said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Don’t tell me he’s taking my place as favorite.”

“Never!” Cass exclaimed. “Falcon’s always gonna be the best.”

AJ, however, didn’t agree.

“No, no he’s not.” He said pointedly. “Spider Man is way cooler.”

“Nah, you’re wrong. I mean Falcon can fly, come on!” Cass said, sounding appalled at AJ’s words, and his brother shrugged.

“Spider Man is still cooler.” He said, causing Peter to give him a high five.

“Do you boys wanna stop arguing maybe? Dinner’s ready!” Y/N called from the porch.

AJ and Cass immediately hopped off their hammock and ran for the house, Peter following close behind. Sam walked rather than sprinted, wrapping an arm around Y/N’s waist, who was still waiting for him on the porch.

“How’s our baby doing, by the way?” He asked, his eyes meeting Y/N’s baby bump.

“They seem to be doing fine so far.” She replied. “I had a doctors appointment like, a day after you left, and everything seems to be in order.”

“Thank god.” Sam breathed out, entering the house again, where the boys were just seating themselves at the dinner table.

“Relieving isn’t it?” Y/N asked, and Sam could only nod in agreement.

“It’s gonna be a bit weird having this without wine.” Sarah said absentmindedly, placing glasses on the table.

“You can have a glass if you want, Sarah.” Y/N said, grabbing herself a serving of the food, and Sarah immediately threw her a pointed look and pointed a finger at her.

“If the smell of wine makes you wanna puke, I’m not gonna drink wine when you're around.” She said. “Your comfort is more important than me getting one of my guilty pleasures. You’re too selfless for your own good.”

“She has a point.” Sam spoke up from his place at the stove.

“You shut up.” Y/N said, pointing at him.

“Yes Ma’am.”

“You gotta teach me how to do that.” Sarah said.

“With how stubborn he is, I’m amazed it actually works,” Y/N replied, sitting down at the table.

“I can still hear you!” Sam called.

“We know!” They called back in unison, making the boys laugh.

[patgill-fanclub]

An explanation for why I am the way I am:

   (monster factory quotes that I actually say or think about on a regular basis)

brothaaaaahhhhhh

I'm gonna put a looot of stink on this one

he's my good good ladder boy

this far no further, a-scrrratch

Ho. Lee. Shit.

just call on me brother, I'll mop up your piss- we all need!

you done did it again

ginuwine wrestle boys

Rock the Dwayne Johnson

ah hayte im

JACOB -- WQILUIUZDCOIAWB

take a trex bite... outta crime

sherlock star benedict "shelf throat" cumberbatch

chop that ass apart gonna chop that ass apart

youre comin with me clow-dius

garbageboy stinkman belongs in the toilet

daddy like a pretty baby!

fucking look AT her

I'm obfuscated by my reticle!

he cool, he cool

I do this

hellll..... NO

this game has taken EVER-Y-THING from me

this is gonna get us looking SO crisp

I gots to go do that to a human

yay! I hated that leg!

nice clipboard, I take

this is my sisyphyian curse

uugghhh I can see his gummy works

HERE COMES SUCCOTASH

CAHTON

this is a easy game made for children

youre bedevillin me!

come on peyto

this fuckin idiot game

guess what justin..............bastard.

peter...peter...pete...pdog...puffy...p...popcorn pete...popcorn pete...popcorn pete...popcorn pete...peter...pepperoni pete...

this ones called blaaazze......

jolf? thats not even right...

i swon de john

no bud. no bud. No Bud. NO BUD

these are both exqueezit

you do the crime, you get the crime

SOMEBODY COME FUCK THIS

do em dirty in fronta they dad

look at that dog shaking that festive lil tuchus

buckets! kobe! jordan! kobe! kobe! kobe! ko... Kobe! buckets! jordan! kobe! kobe baby! kobe beef! kobe! buckets! jordan! jordan! buckets! scottie pippin! scottie pippen! charles barkley! larry biiiird...larry bird.

you know whats cooler than making a horse fall a million feet? making a horse fall a billion feet.

WHY IS EVERYBODY ALWAYS PLAYING STACK EM' BRICKS

Thank you for being a bear, you're a bear and a bear also--and if you were bear, invited all the forest creatures you knew, you would see that I would eat all the honey and the card attached would say thank you for being a bear

profoundly anime bullshit or complete disgrace

cmon ref, letem play!

kiss that egg

daaaaad I made you a botion

can you smeeeeeelllllllllll what the rock is ACOOKIIIIIIIIINNNNN

I wanna be either a human, a numan, or a duman

I look just like a reglear man!

its this its this its this (its that its that its that)

todd please....todd PLEASE... TODD

they apparently have to go in boobs first? cuz theres like resige jiggle, its the worst

I must have him. I must collect him.

its like rich kid grime? if you remember that? or um. Tall kid ska.

the clothes... are... poppin! the clothes are poppin!

the absolute madman is at it again. THE ABSOLUTE MAD LAD

I know where the gun live

did I nick my own... did I sorta doink my own... I worry that I doinked my own...did I doink my own?? listen, they would not have let me back in the dugout if I had doinked my own

is that what you think of west virginy-i-ans?

TODD DAMMIT!

somethin juuuuust got me odell, the tip o that juuuust got me

hair toss, check her nails, baby how you feelin? SKREEEEE

you know, skin? like skin? from skin??

we squeqflurvians are known for our holes

im gonna need a different chair. IM GONNA NEED A DIFFERENT CHAIR.

WE'RE SCREAMIN NOW

lets start with nahnci boudeen

now lets talk about your halloween... presents??

(clap x9) big hat!....ah!! (clap x9 but faster) little hat!!

gender change changes the change

Nice Try, Idiot

Feel free to add your own!

[inkdemonapologist]

Been a lot of emotions in recent BatIM Call of Cthulhu events!!

Prophet Sammy slipped and sank into the mud in the swamp and immediately went into DROWNING FLASHBACKS from his inky death back in the Star Pools. Stunningly, panicking and thrashing around did not help and in fact only got him more stuck.

Henry was the one to pull Sammy out, which is a bit weird, because the Prophet didn’t actually... expect them to... want to help him??? Henry was also leaking gold blood out of his face from doing some intense magic (???), it’s fine, don’t worry about it.

Prophet Sammy ran out of ink, which he has to drink periodically to keep himself from changing back into normal Sammy, and JOEY... GAVE HIM SOME OF HIS OWN INK SO HE COULD HAVE A LITTLE MORE TIME???? Both me and the Prophet were absolutely flabbergasted.

We rescued Jack’s old boyfriend Peter, that newspaper editor guy from before! He was trapped in another world and Jack managed to guide him back to this one and we all pulled his reflection out of the Lake and fought off the eldritch horror that tried to follow him out to our world! THERES A LOT HAPPENING IN THIS GAME

As always Boo has the summary posts for a more detailed description of events, but if you’re here for out-of-context quotes IVE GOT YOU COVERED, here’s some quotes from Session 7:

[Sammy is played by me, Joey is played by Boo (inkyvendingmachine), Henry is played by Maf (inkcryptid), Jack is played by Mochi (whatyouwantedmetosee) and Thren (haunted-hijinxer) is our GM!]

[Henry] *rolling dice* Some nice dice clacking for the auditory experience, [Sammy] Call of Cthulhu ASMR [Joey] Some clacking dice, some screaming,

[GM] But you are on the shallower end of it, so you're not sinking. You are SUPER muddy. [Joey] That's fine-- [Jack] Noooo!! Jack's sweater!!!!!

[GM] Jack's turn! Make a luck roll, Jack! [Jack] *rolls terribly* ...hrrMMM... [GM] Okay. We'll just. We'll just keep that. For later. :)

[Sammy] Sammy is scrambling and panicking and yelling! [GM] Make a strength check! [Sammy] Cool, I'm good at those. *rolls* Success! [GM] You strongly thrash yourself about waist-deep in the mud. [Sammy] [Sammy] OKAY, um, [Sammy] That is. Uh. Worse. Than it was previously, yes? [GM] Yeah. :) [Sammy] OKAY, COOL,,, JUST CHECKING,

[Sammy] I don't think it's good when the GM says "Fun!" I think that's bad.

[GM] *flipping through notes* Where are your stats. Where are your stats, sir. [Sammy] "Young man, where are your stats?" [Jack] If he didn't do his homework, then all his stats are zero.

[Henry] Nope. I'm gonna accept my fate. Henry's goin' to space. [GM] The angel doesn't try to claw Henry, but it does pick him up! He's in the air. [Henry] Bye guys!

[GM] A gunshot does come from the brush also, and it hits the angel next to the one that's got Henry. [Henry] (Thanks, Norman!) [Jack] Does Norman have a gun??? [GM] Norman's not going to go into a cult swamp without a gun! What kind of crazy person would do that?!

[Sammy] I'm sorry if we lose your hat, Jack. [Jack] D: Nooo it's not his hat! [Sammy] Yeah I know, well I'm sorry if we lose it. [Joey] Yeah, sorry. [Jack] Noooo he needs to give that back! [Joey] well then he should wAKE UP!!! [Sammy] Love the idea that Peter later comes through here and finds his own hat discarded on the ground and is like, OH NO, JACK! [GM] Make another luck roll, maybe it's still on. [Jack] Okay dice! This is the ONLY thing I need you t-*sound of dice bouncing off the desk* whoOPS--

[Henry] *still held aloft by eldritch horrors* I'm guessing I don't hear anything either [GM] No, you're just having a nice little roller coaster ride.

[Joey] Ohhh... I guess we wouldn't need to breathe in space, huh. [Joey] ...AM I BREATHING???

[Joey] What time is it... are we at like, 8:30, 9ish? [GM] Well that's highly specific! What happens at 8:39?!

[Joey] Joey's still not willing to let random cultists carry Jack, unless they can do something to convince him??? [Sammy] I feel like the main convincing tool at this point is GUNS? Pointed at us. I think that's the main thing.

[Jack] I guess Jack is the imposter, since he's not doing human things like "breathing"

[GM] And shove all of you into a hut! With Norman-- no, that's right, he didn't get caught, I keep forgetting, his Hide skill is higher than I thought it was. Norman's still at large! [Jack] NORMAN, IS LOOSE, IN THE SWAMP [Joey] What crimes will he commit!

[Jack] This is why you don't smear your weird glowing blood on symbols that are known to watch!!!

[GM] They probably did take away a lot of your cooler stuff. [Sammy] I didn't have any cool stuff. I just had a coat. [Joey] You had ink. [Sammy] *muttering* I wasn't going to mention that that was in my coat.

[Joey] Joey is going to grab Sammy's face... and give him some of his ink. [Sammy] *stunned* Oh...! [Joey] We don't need a passed out Sammy!! [Jack] Only ONE unconscious man in this party!

[Jack] How has Cthulhu AU made "Joey feeds Sammy ink" wHOLESOME in some way?!?

[GM] They've got him in a robe now, and they've painted that yellow sign on it -- possibly in Henry's blood, because why not! [Joey] Excuse me, you did not get license to use that; I'm going to sue you in court now, [Jack] Unethically sourced! [GM] ...Did you just call Henry's blood your IP?

[GM] *startled laugh* my husband just said "Intravenous Property,"

[GM] The other prophet guy seems to be having a grand old time. It is even-odds whether he might just look over to see if Sammy's looking, just to smirk at him. [Sammy] oHHHHHH BOY. I hate this guy! I hate him. [Jack] Okay, well, I wanna-- [Sammy] *still going* I know who I'M sacrificing. [Jack] --Sammy, no. [Joey] You want to make a GOOD sacrifice, not give him trash. [Sammy] ...*sighs* Yeah, yeah, you're right... [Jack] You don't want to give the Masked Messenger a McDonald's burger.

[GM] It's Pete! [Sammy] Oh! Sammy vaguely knows who this is. [Henry] I'm gonna make a check to see if Henry recognises this guy, in the heat of the moment. [Jack] In the Pete of the moment. >:3c [Sammy] *groans* Why would you do this. Everyone was being so well-behaved.

[Sammy] I'm gonna... I'm gonna wait. Gonna be actually, a little bit smart. Trying out this new thing.

[GM] One of the angels is definitely heading your way. [Jack] Oops. [Sammy] ...what if we just... close the door.

[GM] And a sanity roll from Joey and anyone else that is watching this. [Sammy] *sarcastic deadpan* Oh No. I'd Better Look Away. *scoffs* Why would I NOT want to watch my lord work?

[GM] It does a d8 + damage bonus, which, I don't think Joey has one. But it does a d8. [Joey] Does Bendy have one? [GM] No! Bendy's damage bonus is NEGATIVE TWO because he's a tiny cartoon character! You don't want his damage bonus. [Jack] You attack and there's a squeaky hammer noise,

[GM] Peter doesn't seem to have a reflection. [Sammy] ...Do we? [GM] Yeah [Sammy] Okay. That's cool, that's nice, luv 2 reflect. [Jack] *whispering* Peter vampire???

[GM] Sammy thinks this is a spawn of the Yellow King, something that happens to people who dabble too much in his worship. [Sammy] Again, MORE reason why this guy is an idiot and trusting the wrong god! [Sammy] ...Sammy knows all this stuff and is still like "yeah, but the Masked Messenger is cool! I'll definitely be rewarded for my service!"

[Jack] Jack didn't learn how to ASTRAL PROJECT for Pete to get eaten by something!!

[Sammy] Did they steal our ink??? [GM] Looks like they poured it out. [Jack] Pour one out for their FAKE LORD,

[Jack] Rescued. From a cult. By a second, different cult! [Joey] Our cult is COOL, though. [Henry] the coolt

[creacherkeeper]

The bad kids meet the dream team

(i am only halfway through s2 no spoilers please)

kugrash takes one look at riz and is like ???? son shaped??? son. son shaped. and riz is like cool i already have a dad. but he's also like. desperate for paternal attention. so they end up going around and talking to all of kug's people and riz learns a lot about information networks but also realizes kug is like. way cooler and kinder than he lets on. and also they find some super trashy food and have a blast

kristen meets pete and is like oh? cool queer adult? it is fine that he is slightly a mess actually because so am i and people who are not slightly a mess are generally off-put by me. they vibe very well. the convo turns to tracker and after that somehow lands on priya and they kind of lament relationship woes but kristen like ?? actually has some smart things to say and pete is like. okay stop being 17 and better at this than me

kingston brings fabian to a family dinner and it literally blows his mind. cause there's like?? a ton of people and like. they're so familiar with each other and friendly and loud and loving and he doesn't even mind that he totally gets his ass kicked at dominoes cause this is a totally different way of having a family than he ever experienced. they actually end up staying up very late talking, and fabian Talks About His Parental Trauma and it's extremely cathartic for him. and kingston wonders if, in another universe, he could have had a son like fabian

ricky and gorgug end up playing video games because neither of them want to admit they dont know how to play video games but they both assume the other one does. they don't know enough about anything to realize how bad the other one is doing. gorgug talks about how he took a level of artificer to talk to his girlfriend and how he can heal his friends now and ricky is Very Moved. gorgug meets esther and is Very Polite And Respectful and afterwards both esther and ricky are like. holy shit do we want to adopt

adaine meets iga and gets a reading done and is like TAROT IS BULLSHIT??? and iga is like. yes. of course it is? the point isnt to be truthful its to make you think about stuff?? so they do it again with that in mind and adaine gets a card pertaining to family and iga notices that she goes very quiet at that. adaine ends up opening up a bit and iga, who is very much about family, ends up taking adaine back to meet her kids and its very cute and nice. they have a sleepover and iga teaches adaine how to make borscht bites

i dont know what to say about fig and sophia other than they bond about multiclassing into warlock too hard and very nearly burn down multiple buildings. a time is had by all. they get along ... way too much

[sunflowergirl522]

Stuck in Westview

Pairing: Peter Maximoff x Reader

Request by Anon: Okay, okay, so I had an idea and idk you'll do it but it's worth a shot. Plant mutation reader x Peter where they both get stuck in Westview? I haven't really thought about it past that, so the rest is up to you!

A/n: The more I wrote this one the less I liked how it was turning out but I didn’t want to leave you hanging so I tried my best. I hope you like it.

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 2689

Masterlist

You didn’t remember much when the two of you first arrived in Westview. But you were with Peter and he seemed to know where he was going so you felt fine about it. You were ecstatic when the two of you walked up to the door and Wanda answered it. You’ve always wanted to meet Peter’s sister and now that you were, you felt like you were in a dream. Actually the whole time you’ve been in Westview has felt like a dream.

“You alright baby?” Peter’s voice breaks you out of whatever trance you were in and you look at him.

“Yeah, I’m good just lost in thought I guess, sorry.”

“You’re fine dear.” Wanda speaks as Peter wraps an arm around your shoulders and Vision comes down with a blanket and some pillows. “I uh, hope the couch will be fine for the two of you. The spare room still isn’t ready; we weren’t exactly expecting company.”

“The couch will be just fine Wanda.”

“Yeah sis, just gives us an excuse to be pressed against each other all night.” Wanda scoffs at Peter before bidding the two of you a goodnight.

“She’s nice.” You tell Peter as the two of you settle down to sleep.

“Yeah. I’m glad the two of you get along.” He yawns and kisses the top of your head as he pulls you into his chest.

In the morning you wake up well before Peter like normal. Though it was more the afternoon than the morning, you may always wake up before your boyfriend but you did end up adopting his poor sleep schedule. You lay next to him relishing in his warmth for a while before getting up and making your way into the kitchen for some cereal. Tommy comes down first and heads to the kitchen before Billy comes down dressed in a costume. 

“Halloween’s a magical holiday. All about family, friends, and the thrill of getting to be someone else for a day.” You think that he’s speaking to you at first but very quickly realize it’s like he’s talking to an imaginary audience. Your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion as you watch him from your spot on the couch at Peter's feet. You shake your head assuming it was just a kid thing and pick up your bowl to put it in the sink. “Where’s your costume Tommy?” 

“This is my costume. I’m the cool twin.”

“Then what does that make me?”

“Hmm, a dorkasaurus rex.” You hold in the chuckle that wants to escape as the joke seems to fly over Billy’s head as he tells his twin that it's not a real dinosaur. You high five Tommy when Billy leaves the kitchen with a smile before he follows his brother. The two of them bicker about Billy being scared of Peter not realizing that they’ve woken him up. 

“Blood is thicker than water! I show you!” You laugh as you watch Peter chase the kids around from the kitchen doorway. When Wanda comes down the stairs complaining about the noise you walk over to them and take your place next to Peter, who immediately wraps an arm around you bringing you closer to him. 

“I’m a Sokovian fortune teller.”

“Wow. That is so…lame.” You elbow him in the ribs when his statement causes Tommy to change his own from rad to lame. 

“I think you look great! If you didn’t have a husband I’d leave this doof and try getting with the better twin.” Wanda blushes slightly and laughs at your words. 

While Peter and Wanda talk about old Halloween’s you follow the twins to the couch to play video games with them. When Billy starts to talk to the invisible audience once more you look at him confused again before looking to see if Tommy noticed it too but he’s either too focused on the game or doesn’t see anything weird about it. Peter makes his way over eventually chuckling at something that happened. You give him your spot on the floor and sit behind him on the couch. 

“Hey babe you wanna go get 4 sodas from the fridge and we’ll teach these rugrats how to shotgun?” You just shrug and nod before getting up. “Get out of here, get out of here.” Peters trying to slap Tommy’s controller out of his hands to distract him as you juggle the four cans to the couch. You hand them out to the three boys before taking your spot again. Peter makes the holes in the bottom of their cans so they don’t hurt themselves trying and goes to do it for you just to find yours already done. “Alright when I give the signal you bring the hole to your mouth and open the can.” He makes sure they understand before exclaiming a ‘go’. Wanda and Vision soon start to fight and Billy once again speaks to the audience and Peter and you share a look after he scrunches his eyebrows up and looks to see if Tommy’s reacting. 

You must have zoned out after that though because the next thing you know Peters scaring Wanda at the door and Visions gone. When did they talk about shaving cream in water balloons you find yourself wondering as you overhear the conversation. It must’ve just happened when you were in your head again. 

“You don’t even have a costume.” Peter scoffs and then speeds off somewhere with Tommy to return in matching costumes that go with his power perfectly. “If I see any funny business, I am going to magic you into a pickled herring.” 

“Y/n I got you a costume too!” Peter speeds in front of you and drops a bag in your lap.

“What is it?”

“Just go put it on.” He pulls you to your feet and starts to push you towards the stairs. You can’t help but laugh after you get into the bathroom and open the bag up to find a Poison Ivy costume. Once you finish putting it on you notice part of an ivy plant still in the bag with a note from Peter reading ‘To make it more realistic ;)-P’. 

“Are you boys ready?” Wanda’s voice greets your ears as you make your way back downstairs.

“Yeah mom.” The twins speak at the same time and rush up to their mom who places her hands on their shoulders. 

“Pietro, you better not be bringing any shaving cream filled water balloons!” You don’t dwell long on the fact that Wanda’s been calling him Pietro, he’s already told you that when he and his mom moved to the states she had him start going by Peter. And now only his family really calls him Pietro even though they’ve gotten into the habit of using Peter instead.

“I’m not! See empty handed.” The sound of your laughter as Peter appeared in front of the family holding his hands out as proof drew all of their attention to you. “You look great babe. I dig the crown thing you’ve got going on.” You had decided to grow the ivy around your head and then around the rest of your body randomly from there.

“Thanks.” You blush a bit at the attention as you join the four of them in front of the door. 

“Woah aunt Y/n, who are you supposed to be?” Tommy asks as he takes in all the green.

“Have you guys really never seen a Batman show or read the comics? She’s Poison Ivy also known as Mother Nature, it fits Y/n a lot considering her power.”

“Her power?” Wanda asks as Billy asks you what it is.

“I can control plants.” You shrug it off because it’s not a big deal, there were plenty of cooler mutations than yours anyway (even if Peter would yell at you for thinking that).

“That’s so rad!” Peter high fives Tommy in agreement excited that his nephew likes it as much as he does.

“How did you get it?” Before you can tell Wanda that you were born with it, Peter gives her some bogus story that’s really similar to Poison Ivy's origin story. You’re confused because it doesn’t make sense for him to lie about it but you don’t have a chance to correct him before he’s taking your hand and pulling you out of the house to ‘get this party started’.

You watch smiling as Tommy and Billy race from house to house to see who can get the most candy and tune into what Wanda and Peter were talking about in time to hear him say she’s testing him. Why would she be testing him, for what?

“Hey, it’s cool. I know I look different.”

“Why do you...look different?” Look different? You turn to really study and look at Peter to try to see what she means. The only thing that’s different is that his hair is more blonde but that’s about it, it’s not some major change or anything. When the twins come back ready to keep moving down the street Peter brings you into a side hug and places a kiss on your temple before running with them to get more candy. Though you notice that Billy holds onto Tommy and Peter doesn’t even try to hold onto the backs of their necks. What happened to whiplash? 

As everything starts to feel off to you and you try to figure things out your head starts to feel hazy and it’s like your body goes on autopilot as you strike up conversation with Wanda. It’s like an out of body experience as you basically just watch the conversation happen without knowing what’s being said. You feel so lost and empty right in this moment and it only fades a little when Wanda starts to talk to someone else. You don’t fully snap back into it until Peter laces his hand in yours again.

“Pete,” you say to him when Wanda and the kids walk ahead of you, “I feel strange.”

“What kind of strange?” He places a hand on your forehead to check if you’re warm. “You don’t have a fever. Are you queasy? Do you wanna go back to the house?”

“No, it’s not that I feel sick. I just, I don’t know how to explain it. I feel like a prisoner in my own body.”

“I think I know what you mean. It happens very suddenly right? And then something snaps you out of it and you feel better?”

“Yeah that’s it.”

“Uncle P are you coming?” Tommy’s voice pulls the two of your attention to them and Peter plasters a smile on his face.

“Sure am little dude, just had to tell your aunt how hot she looks again!” He pulls you behind him as he catches up with his family. The five of you make your way to the town square scare as it starts to become night.

“It’s so lame that you’re making them return the candy.” Peter says after a moment of silence passes from when Wanda scolded the twins for stealing it in the first place.

“I can’t believe what a bad influence you are?” You start to think about her words, you know it’s been a while since they’ve seen eachother but surely this is what Peter acted like growing up. It’s definitely how he’s acted the whole time you knew him.

“It’s what you wanted isn’t it?”

“What happened to your accent?”

“What happened to yours?” You watch as they seem to have a mini showdown challenging the other. “Details are fuzzy, man. I got shot like a chump on the street for no reason at all and next thing I know I hear you callin me. I knew you needed me.” His words don’t sit well with you, they don’t sound right but something in the back of your head makes you trust them.

“Uncle P, guess what?” The twins run up and semi break the tension in the air with their excitement.

“They’ve got full size candy bars a few blocks up. Can we go Mom?” Tommy then speeds away and comes back with some of the bars in his hand. You and Peter look at eachother shocked and you can see the excitement on his face that his nephew has the same power as him.

“Right on, little dude! Chip off the old Maximoff block. You got super speed!”

“I do?”

“Yeah!” The two of them high five with big excited smiles on their faces and you stand back with an adoring one. Peter may be a bad influence but he’s really just so good with kids. When Tommy starts to speed around whooping in joy you step closer to Peter and wrap your arms around his stomach smiling up at him.

“If you’re gonna break the sound barrier at least take your brother with you.”

“Really?” 

“Yes really. And please just remember-”

“Don’t go past Ellis Avenue. We know mom.” After the twins run off and Wanda yells after them to be careful the three of you continue on your way to the town square where kids are running rampant and hay bales have been set up.

“This is so nice.” You say as you look around.

“Isn’t it?” Wanda responds and smiles over at you.

“Damn it, if Westview, New Jersey isn’t charming as hell.”

“I know that you guys must think that I’ve gone full soccer mom. But it really is nice right?” The three of you sit down on one of the hay bales in the center of town square. You smile and agree with her as Peter brings your legs over one of his and squeezes your thigh.

“I think mom and dad would’ve loved it.” You want to speak up and ask if Wanda knew about Erik but suddenly you couldn’t speak, it was like your lips were being forced closed. You started to feel that sense of being a prisoner again and as if he could sense your panic Peter squeezes your thigh again as he and Wanda talk about the kids in Westview. “I’m impressed seriously, it’s a big upgrade from giving people nightmares and shooting red wiggly woos out of your hand.” Leave it to Peter for being impressed when his family members do something people consider wrong. “I’m not some stranger, and I’m not your husband. You can talk to me, and Y/n too. She’s one of the kindest people I’ve ever met.”

“I don’t know how I did it. I only remember feeling completely alone. Empty. I just...endless nothingness.” She looks away and sniffles a bit before looking back over and gasping while covering her face.

“Are you okay?” You finally find your lips free in time to worry about Wanda and ask if she’s alright.

“I’m fine.”

“Uh huh.” Peter glances over at you as he hums not believing her.

“Mom!” The twins then rush over with Billy yelling for her over and over again.

“What is it Billy?” 

“I hear dad in my head. He’s in trouble. I don’t understand. What’s happening to me?”

“I think Billy might have powers too.” You whisper to Peter as the two of you get up and walk over to the trio. 

“Where is he? Where’s your dad?”

“Hey, don’t sweat it sis. It’s not like your dead husband can die twice.” Wanda’s quick to force him into the fake graveyard after he speaks.

“Oh my god!” You run over to Peter as Wanda’s attention goes back to her kids.

“God why did I say that?” Peter’s rubbing his head when you make it to him.

“Peter, Peter I think we should go.” You see Wanda getting ready to use her power again before looking back at Peter. “Now!” He grabs onto you and runs back to Wanda’s street. The hold that was in your mind is gone now and you can remember getting pulled into this city before not remembering anything. “Shit, Peter I don’t think we belong here.”

“I think you’re right baby. Let’s find a way out of here.”

Taglist: @amourtentiaa @simpforquicksilver @loveyou3000-mcu @quickparkers @buckysbeloved @elaineygrace @practicallylivesonline @stars-of-clarke​ @b3d0fr0s3s​

[petesvodka]

stop thinking

summary - you meet pete at a seven eleven

word count - 1.2k

warnings - suggested underage drinking

authors note - i don’t really know where this story came from, but im contemplating whether or not i wanna write a part two. if you have any thoughts on this story, feel free to share them with me! thanks for reading :)

It’s 2 am at your local seven eleven and you’re just there so you can buy bread. You need fucking bread to make some fucking toast because your stomach will not stop rumbling and you cannot keep anything else down.

Bugs flicker in the yellow lights as you pull up, vision blurry and tired. You’re hoping you won’t run into trouble- you usually avoid seven elevens at this time of night because of the trouble they cause. Especially this one. It’s too close to the college campus for your liking, but the one by your house is closed. Of fucking course. 

Slamming the car into park, you stumble out of the car door. Sweat sticks your hair to the back of your neck and your mouth is bone dry. Bread. Fucking bread. That’s all you need.

Before you can stumble through the doors, a voice calls out to you from the shadows. “Kid,” it slurs, ”you ‘right?”

“Yes,” you breathe and pull on the handle. It’s locked, and you can feel dread building in the pit of your stomach. 

“Waddya need, kid?” A man- a boy, really, although he's tall, you can tell he’s not much older than you- steps out of the shadows. His eyes are dark, heavy, as they trace down your body slowly. You feel exposed. 

“Jus’ need some bread,” you mutter, jaw clenched. 

“Bread?” He laughs, approaching you slowly. You tug on the handle. 

“Love, that door ain’t gonna open. Those cashiers’re screwing in the back room and they don’t give two shits about your… bread.” He tilts his head back, dark eyes glinting in the low light.

 “I’m, uh, I guess I’ll just go home then,” you say quietly, hand dropping from the cold metal handle as you turn to your car. 

“Woah-ho kid, where you going?” The boy asks, leaning against the brick wall. He tilts a bottle to his lips, spilling some of it down his chin. He doesn’t seem to notice. “What’s goin on?”

You shrug, watching him carefully. “Don’t feel so good.”

“Don’t feel so good?” His bright red lips parted into a smile, “Y’know what’ll fix that?” 

Shaking your head, you look at the ground. You’re not sure what he wants, but it can’t be good. 

“Here, take this,” he says, thrusting the bottle towards you. You flinch back, eyes growing steely. “Woah there cowboy,” he says, chuckling. “It’s just vodka.”

You stare at the bottle and the clear liquid inside, a headache pounding its way into your skull. “Uh- no thanks-“

He rolls his eyes, still with a smile. “It’s not drugged. I just took a swig of it, ya saw me.”

The orange lights flicker over his face. 

He doesn’t look as scary- maybe twenty-two at most, and his lips are cracked and raw. His eyes are ringed with dark circles, but they’re not the narrowed predator’s eyes you've seen before. Just glazed, slightly red, and unfocused. His hands shake slightly and his left shoe is untied, dark locks of hair wild around his head.

 “Here, take it,” he says, holding out the bottle again.

Hesitantly, you grasp the cheap plastic in your fingers. He looks at you expectantly. “Drink it, yeah? It’ll help your stomach.” 

It burns your nose and mouth when you bring it to your lips, taking a huge gulp. It stings as it falls down into your stomach, and you're sure you've made a mistake. “Jesus,” you gasp, coughing.

He takes the bottle back, a frown playing on his features. “Christ, kid, big gulp. You drink?”

You nod, willing your stomach to be strong. You clutch it, hoping you won’t puke all over the sidewalk in front of the convenience store. 

“Goddamn,” he laughs, throwing his head back and swigging the vodka. “How old are ya? Seventeen, eighteen?” 

You don’t answer, just stare at the ground as the warmth starts to flood through your veins. Vodka always burns your skin up- it makes your tongue swell and the tips of your ears red and hot.

At least your stomach feels a bit better. 

“I’m Pete, by the way,” he says, sticking out a hand. You ignore it. He thinks, then asks, “want more?”

You take the bottle from his large, outstretched hand. The vodka burns your lips this time around, and your head is spinning a little faster, the shadows surrounding you starting to become long and weird.

You stare at your hands- Fuck. You can’t fucking drive. You start towards your car, still clutching the bottle.

“Woah, woah, hold on,” he says, stumbling after you. “You jus’ had a couple a’ shots of vodka. You are not driving any fuckin’ car.”

“Watch me,” you snarl, getting in. 

“Hold on-“ he says. “Just stay here.” You shake your head and slam the door shut behind you. Stepping on the gas, you accelerate out of the parking lot- and right into a concrete divider.

The impact slams your head to the side, worsening the dark ache in your head to one that is now intense and bright. “Shit!” You bellow, slamming the steering wheel with closed fists.

Pete is there in an instant, still holding the bottle. “Told you,” he says, smiling.

“Fuck off,” you growl through gritted teeth, and then your life flashes before your eyes. 

DUI. MIP. Car accident. Money. Your parents are going to fucking gut you. Tears slide out of your eyes and onto your red cheeks. 

“Hey, hey, hold on,” Pete says. “Stop. Stop it. Stop thinking.”

“W-What?” You ask, sniffing.

“Don’t think about that shit. I saw you doing it. It’s not a fucking problem. Now, you can wait until tomorrow. Tomorrow is a good time to deal with this. Right now?” He shakes his head, glancing around. 

“No. Now is for getting as drunk as you can, so you don’t have to think about it.”

You can’t argue with his logic, so you follow him slowly out of the smashed car and back to the convenience store, where the two of you sit on the curb. An ice cooler runs next to you as you pass bottles back and forth, numbing your mind and tongue.

Pete, as it turns out, is simply fascinating. Not just because of the stories he tells you, but because of the way he tells them and the way they make you feel. He shares these glimpses into his life with you in such a way that makes you feel as though you were there with him making these memories, as though you knew him from long before. You wish you could talk to him forever. You spent the entire night with him, shoulder to shoulder, talking.

Slowly, you woke up, the ache in your skull acutely painful as you squint your eyes in the bright early morning sunlight. And after a moment, you saw them. Your parents, standing over you like vultures.

Shit. You crashed a fucking car at the seven eleven while you were drunk. You look around for Pete, for his support- but he’s gone. He probably left when the sun rose. 

All that’s left is a number scribbled on a small piece of paper and an empty vodka bottle at your side, which you can’t even hope to hide.

[food-in-your-mitch]

Heat Wave

My first of hopefully many Ronstadt fics!

It’s a damn hot day in LA and Ronstadt is having trouble beating the heat. Then Gus stops by for a visit...

Suggestive but sfw

~~~

Good lord, is it hot in here...

I wipe the sweat from my brow with the back of my hand. I’m sure by now I’ve left a Ronstadt-shaped sweat stain on my couch, and the box fan positioned on the coffee table isn’t doing jack squat for me. The a/c still isn’t fixed and the air is nauseatingly stagnant outside, so no breeze to flutter in through my window. So I’m sitting in the dim stillness of a living room with all the lights turned off, downing glass after glass of water to replenish my sweat tanks.

I think there’s some weird irony in sitting by yourself in a dark living room. What living can I possibly be doing?

Suddenly, a loud crash pulls me from my revelry. Whatever it is, it shakes the floor beneath my sweaty feet and makes the box fan wobble on its base. I’m about to make myself more alert, shaking myself out of my heat-induced stupor, but the crashing sound is quickly followed by a shout. A shout, then a whoop, then an exclamation of success. It’s just Gus. I settle back into my sweat stain.

Either Gus doesn’t feel the heat the same way that I do, or it’s magnitudes cooler in his garage than it is here. I don’t even have the time to ponder before I hear his footsteps thundering upstairs to my door. I peel myself off of the couch and open the door before he can get in his first knock.

“Hey, Ronstadt!” He greets me cheerily and lets himself inside. I sigh and steel myself; I’m not exactly in the mood for company. I gesture languidly to his arm, where he has a box of something tucked under his pit.

“What you got there?”

His friendly smile morphs into a mischievous grin. “Well, remember that mini fridge I told you about?”

I nod.

“And how I had so much shit buried in front of it that I couldn’t even open it?”

I nod again. “Yes. I remember the mini fridge.”

“Well,” he continues, interrupting me just quickly enough for me to bypass it. “I got to the damn fridge and look what I found!”

He slams the box down onto my coffee table.

“...Beer?” I ask quizzically. That’s what he was making such a racket about?

Gus smiles brighter. “Not just any old beer, Ron.”

I grimace at the nickname.

“In this box right here are two whole cases of genuine Cold And Lonely Mountain IPA.”

He says that as if it means anything to me.

“Knew I still had some laying around somewhere.” He continues and squats down beside my coffee table to open up the pack of booze. “Last place I had to look was that mini fridge! They’re nice and cold from bein’ in there for so long, figured I’d share.”

He hands me a can that’s dappled in condensation, and the feel of it in my grip is like heaven on earth. I resist the urge to rub the can on the back of my neck like a girl in a cheesy porno. You know the ones. The girl’s car breaks down on a hot day by some spooky old gas station and she spends her remaining quarters on a cold can of pop, but instead of drinking it like a normal person she rubs it across her chest and the gas station owner catches a glimpse of her and... well, I’m sure I don’t need to spell the rest out for you.

Instead, I press the can to the insides of my wrists.

“Ah, I’m not really a beer drinker, Gus.” I say, trying to let him down gently. What I wouldn’t give for a mai tai right now, but the thought of dragging my sweat-soaked body down to the bar makes me feel lightheaded. Gus just waves his hand like he’s swatting away an invisible fly.

“Just try it, for Pete’s sake. C’mon, they’re ice cold!” He cracks open his cold one and settles himself into my sweat stain before I can stop him.

I shrug and pop open my can as well, seating myself down on the opposite side of the couch. He’s already crumpling up his can in his fist before I’ve even taken my first sip.

When the beer hits my tongue, it’s like the Mojave meeting the pacific. The room temperature water I’d been chugging all day has nothing on this, even if it isn’t a mai tai. I hum in appreciation.

“It isn’t bad... thanks for sharing.” I say, and take another sip.

“No prob, bob!” He shoots back at me with a grin and a click of his tongue.

In about ten minutes, we’ve both downed four cans and I’m feeling the buzz that comes along with drinking on an empty stomach. So is Gus, if the way he’s made himself comfortable on my couch is anything to go by. He’s spread out like a drunk starfish, and I reach out to the table to grab two more cans and I pass one over to him. He grins his thanks, all sharp teeth and smarm.

He pops the can open lightning fast and tips his head back as he drinks. His throat bobs as he gulps and I can very clearly see the rivulets of sweat slide down his long neck and disappear beneath the collar of his shirt... an undone button-up, obnoxious and garish with its bright blue and palm tree print, and a gray tank underneath, and the neck of it is darkened by his sweat-

I shake my head to get those thoughts the hell out of there. The heat must be driving me crazy. I pop my can open and take a sip, content to just lean back and watch Gus. I don’t feel too bad, he likes to be watched. I’d know, I’ve seen Get A Room.

I don’t recommend it, by the way.

The way he smirks at me over his now empty can doesn’t go unnoticed. I feel myself flush like a virgin schoolboy when he pokes his tongue out to lick the beer off the lip of the can.

“Don’t think I don’t notice you staring at me, Ronstadt...”

God he even sounds nice. Maybe it’s the four and a half beers in my system talking, but his voice sounds gravelly. Husky, like he’s trying to talk quietly. Rumbly like it’s an earthquake rising up out of his chest.

Sexy. It sounds sexy.

I really should just kick him out, he’s invading my space.

But the way he darts his tongue out to swipe quickly across his top lip has me second guessing myself.

Has me wishing I was one of his old hotel guests.

Shit.

“Ronstadt...?”

His timbre breaks my focus. I can hear the dammed grin on his face before I even look at it.

“Yeah...” I say, like an idiot. Gus just gets up and tucks the half-empty box of beer back under his arm. He pats my cheek twice with his free hand and I resist biting him like an angry chihuahua.

“I’d better get goin’, anyway...” he says, unprompted, like he’s trying to get me to make him stay. I’m not falling for it.

“Yeah, guess you’d better.” I crunch my empty can in my fist but I only succeed in making Gus laugh.

“I’ll see what I can do about that damn busted A/C. See ya, Ronstadt...” he clicks his tongue at me again and I throw my beer can against the door after he clicks it shut.

If I thought I was sweaty before, that was nothing compared to how wet I am now.

Whatever. I’d consider it a blessing to die of heatstroke with my hand down my pants. Or at the very least, it would be an appropriate way to go.