#I swear... the looks Peter gives it's driving me insane

[vanalex]

[strangerstilinski]

𝙞𝙩 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙨 𝙖 𝙠𝙞𝙨𝙨

𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

word count: 2.5k warnings: none really, fluffy ending, steve is kind of a dick, mention of alcohol, gender neutral reader (pls let me know if i missed anything) based on that scene in tasm where peter spins gwen around to kiss her — with just a dash of enemies to lovers

It should go without saying that Steve Harrington is the bane of your goddamned existence. If the two of you aren't at each other's throats, it typically just means that you're both doing your best to pretend the other doesn't even exist.

And, sure, maybe it drives you a little bit insane that he seems to get along just fine with every person in your friend group except for you. It was like you pushed buttons that Steve wasn't even aware he had.

Nancy finds the whole thing amusing, says that Steve's clearly so in love with you that he doesn't know how to handle it. Eddie swears that Steve looks at you with hearts in his eyes, though any time you've caught his stare those ‘hearts’ tended to look a whole lot more like daggers. Argyle and Robin both insist that love and hate tread a very thin line, and eventually, a little push will have the two of you stumbling head over heels into each other's waiting arms. Johnathan tends to stay out of it, but then, he doesn't really need to say anything, because you've seen that look he gives you when he catches you looking a little too long at the moles dotted along the length of Steve's throat, or that stubborn lock of hair that tumbles over his brow bone, or the way his tongue pokes out and his eyes narrow cutely when he's concentrating-

You hate it. You hate Steve. Even now, you swear you hate him, regardless of the way you shamelessly ogle the curve of his bicep when he reaches across the back of the sofa to drape his arm loosely behind Robin's shoulders. You've accepted it. At this point, allowing yourself to admire his stupidly handsome physique was merely reparations for being forced to put up with him on a near-daily basis. Compensation for the never-ending bad attitude that he seemed to direct solely at you.

“Does anyone hear that?” Steve's voice speaks louder than your own suddenly, effectively cutting you off even though you'd been in the middle of a sentence. His eyes meet yours for just a brief second before his gaze is moving elsewhere, “It's like, this annoying buzzing sound?” He's sitting up a little straighter following his interruption, brows drawing together like he's listening intently for something.

His sudden line of questioning has thoroughly derailed your train of thought. The longwinded story you'd been regaling to the group about a customer at work is cut short, the words dissolving on your tongue as your try to work out what on earth Steve is referring to. Until his interruption, you hadn't heard anything.

“What are you even talking abou-”

“There!” He cuts you off once more, “There it is again! Did you hear that, Robs?” The fingers he nudges into his best friend's ribs makes her squirm away with a deep laugh.

You huff, “Are you seriously implying that I'm the-”

“God, you guys 're hearing that, right?” Steve interrupts with an irritatingly pleased grin on his face, “Like nails on a chalkboard-”

Though Robin's laughter isn't actually directed at you, your face burns hotly anyway. A pity-filled smile graces her lips when she meets your gaze after escaping the wrath of Steve's tickling, and his chuckles of amusement only serve to make you grind your teeth together in irritation.

“Real mature, dickhead.” You snap, snatching up the beer you'd set down on the coffee table when Eddie had actually asked you about your day a few minutes before. “I was in the middle of a story.”

“Yeah, no offense, honey, but I'm not sure any of us were that invested hearing you drone on about the ‘big tip’ some douchebag with a hand tattoo left you.” Steve grumbled with a roll of his eyes, “If your stories weren't so boring, maybe we wouldn't all be sitting here hoping for a hole in the earth to open up under us just so we don't have to keep listening to-”

“Steve. C'mon man-” Eddie tries, though his voice is drowned out by your own.

“Jesus, do you have to be such an asshole all the time?” You snap in Steve's direction.

“I'm just saying,” Steve shrugs, “Probably the only reason he left such a big tip was because pulled the wrong bill out of his wallet, alright? It sure as hell wasn't 'cause of your shining personality.”

“What, and just because you're a jackass, that means no man could ever possibly find me appealing?” You bite back.

“Yeah, well, your pretty face doesn't quite make up for your constant need for attention.”

“My need for attention?” You scoff incredilously, beer slamming back down onto the tabletop in front of you. The rest of your friends seem to fade even further into the background, the rest mist of your rage yet again blinding you to anything that isn't Steve fucking Harrington. “You're the one who can't stand when the focus is on me for ten fucking seconds.”

“So what, if I don't care that some prick hit on you at work-” Steve argues, “Sue me. If that makes me an asshole-”

“It does, as a matter of fact,” You interrupt easily, “Because I'm constantly listening to you whine about your conquest of the week, except I'm able to do so without acting like such a fucking-”

“Careful,” Steve hums, cocky little smirk reemerging on his lips, “You're sounding a little jealous, there, honey.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

“'S my house,” He returns just as quickly, “How 'bout you fuck off.”

The blood in your veins is full of fire. Your face is burning with rage and your eyes prickle traitorously with frustrated tears, because that customer from your story? He'd been the highlight of your god-awful day. The rest of it had been a fucking disaster.

You'd slipped on freshly mopped floors and dropped an entire table's drink orders. Subsequently, you'd been forced to finish your shift with sticky, soda pop-soaked socks that squelched wetly in your shoes with every step. Your boss had given you shit for the whole mess, even though it was one of your coworkers who had failed to put out the wet floor sign in the first place. You'd proceeded to burn yourself on a hotplate, twice. And then, after all that, you'd had little choice but to take an ice-cold shower before heading over to Steve's house, because the hot water heater in your decrepit apartment building was apparently broken. Again.

“Y'know what?” You grumble in defeat, “Fine.”

You're already rising to your feet, wiping the palms of your hands down your jeans to dry the lingering condensation from your half-finished beer. You blink furiously to push back the tears that had been pooling at your waterline, shaking your head at the ridiculousness of your own emotional state.

“Wha-” Steve is watching you with something like concern in his eyes now, “Wh-Where're you goin'?”

“I'm leaving,” You announce, gaze steadfastly avoiding where Steve has removed his arm from around Robin's shoulders so he can sit at the edge of the couch, as if he's planning to rise to his own feet at any moment. “I, um. I'll talk to you guys later.”

There are scattered protests from everyone, but you don't bear them any mind. You're already turning on your heel and moving toward the entryway with hurried steps. The front door slams shut behind you before you've even gotten your jacket all the way on. You've still got one arm struggling to find the hole of your sleeve when you hear the door swing back open behind you.

“Hey! Wait up.”

You're not sure why, but Steve's voice makes you slow where you've begun to move down the driveway, though you don't turn around to face him. He calls out to you again as he finally catches up with you. He all but throws himself into your path and at the risk of running straight into him, your steps finally come to a stop.

“C'mon, honey. Wait, wait, wait-”

You blow out a frustrated breath, your arms crossing over your chest like that might somehow put up a physical barrier between the two of you.

“I really don't want to do this with you, Harrington. Alright?” An air of defeat laces your words, one hand coming up to rub at the headache that's begun to pulse between your brows, “Just.. Not tonight.”

You move to step around him and the heel of your boots click against the pavement once, twice. But then something hooks into the belt loop on your jeans and you're tugged back. You nearly lose your footing at the unexpected shift in momentum, knees wobbling unsteadily for just a moment before you're twirled back around to face him and then your palms are meeting a firm chest.

The adrenaline has your brain whiting out for just a moment, any and all thoughts screeching to a halt. Warmth seeps into your palms from beneath the thin cotton of Steve's tshirt. The racing of your own heart in your ears drowns out the distant sound of laughter and the opening trailers of a movie rental coming from back inside the house. Your eyes are level with Steve's chin, your wide gaze locked on his lips as they quirk up at one corner with his gentle smirk. You're still standing pigeon-toed between his own larger feet, a little off balance but held firmly in place by the wide hand splayed across your waist.

“I'm sorry.” Steve says quietly — unexpectedly earnest.

It's only been a second or two since he dragged you back into his space, and to your surprise, his head dips, just a fraction. Steve brushes his nose against your own, a gentle stroke that sends butterflies in your stomach fluttering wildly. The cool mint clinging to his breath fans out over your face, smelling of the gum he's always chewing and smacking obnoxiously, but the scent this close is intoxicating. The hand he brings up to cradle your jaw is intoxicating. The loose flap of leather on his watch that tickles at the side of your throat. The way he's leaning in-

The passion he kisses you with, from the moment your lips touch, is intoxicating. It's all-encompassing. You can't think, and you're not entirely sure you're even breathing, but Steve's lips are moving in unhurried synchronization with your own. Your knees are weak. You're gripping the material of his shirt in your fists just for something to hold onto, but Steve' arm is curled tight around the curve in your spine now to hold you steady.

His tongue brushes warmly against your lips, licking softly at the seam of your mouth like he's asking for permission. The desperate sound that crawls up your throat at just that quick brush of his tongue nestles in the depths of Steve's brain where he files it away for later. He hitches his arm even tighter at your waist, pulling your stomachs flush until your chest heaves against his own.

Your head is a little fuzzy when you separate long enough for you to take a breath, and you're gasping almost comically in an effort to fill your lungs. Steve's quiet chuckle meets your ears, his hand sliding back from your jaw to cup the nape of your neck.

“You kissed me.”

The words fall from your lips in a whisper of disbelief. Your eyes are still closed, lashes fluttering against the tops of your cheeks. You’re terrified if you open them even a crack, the entire scene will suddenly fade away around you like some kind of dream. The airy cadence of your voice is partially due to your surprise, but also thanks to the far-too-easy grace with which you've been spun and manhandled and swept entirely off your feet.

“I did,” Steve agrees just as quietly, “I did do that.”

His forehead meets your own as your eyes flutter open and he simply holds you there for a moment, nose dragging across your cheek before he presses another quick kiss to your lips. His head tilts, thumb stroking soft over the side of your throat before his mouth finds yours again, and again. These kisses are different — Casual and tender, sweet and unhurried. Like he's kissing you just because he can.

“You-” Is all you manage to get out before your words are silenced by his lips slotting between your own, but you carry on with barely a pause as you click apart once again, “Y'r still doing it.”

“Mhm.” He hums easily, the sound rumbling beneath your hands on his chest.

“Why-”

Kiss.

“Are you-”

Kiss.

“Kissing me?”

Steve's breath mingles hotly with your own in the narrow breadth of space between your parted lips, “D'you want me to stop?”

“No, no, I- Hell no.”

And there's that perfect smile of his. Straight teeth make an appearance as his lips quirk up at the corner, a breathy spearmint scented laugh that sounds a little too relieved for the casual coolness that he's clearly trying to give off. His mouth opens like he's going to say something, but no words seem to come. Lips parted, throat bobbing as he swallows around the heavy silence weighing down his tongue.

He looks so pretty like this, you think. The streetlight light at the end of his driveway catches in his brown eyes, caramel sparking with flecks of gold and green that you've never noticed before, but you're sure you'll never be able to forget the sight of it now. You're still sharing breaths, faces so close that you can't avoid watching the way his full lashes blink at you dumbly. As if he isn't the one who spun you around and pulled you close and effortlessly gave you the best kiss of your entire life. As if, maybe, he didn't quite expect to make it this far, and now he's at a loss for how to proceed.

You release his shirt from your fist, the fabric crinkled and stretched with how tight you'd been gripping it, only to slide your hand up the back of his neck. The tip of his nose catches the bottom of your own, lips brushing faintly while your hand finds a new home in his hair. The soft strands tangle between your fingers when you give it a gentle tug and push up on your toes to draw yourself impossibly closer.

“If I'd known kissing you was all it took to get you to shut up, Harrington, I would've done it ages ago.” Your quip lacks its usual bite, but it breaks the silence between you, and it also seems to break Steve out of whatever spell he'd fallen under.

His tongue pokes out to wet his lips as he searches for an appropriate response, “Maybe we'll just have to keep kissing then.”

You find yourself swaying just a little on your feet at the way his eyes flick slow back and forth between your own, “Yeah.. Yeah, Maybe we will.”

When his lips descend on your own again, it's ages before he lets you back up for a decent breath of air, and even then he parts from you with obvious reluctance. You're both breathing heavy, lips a little swollen and shining wetly. Steve's expression has a warmth that you realize you've never actually seen directed at you before. Steve smiles at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and suddenly all you can think about is what Eddie has said a hundred times over.

It's like there are hearts in his eyes.

[l13]

Hi!! Would you be willing to write something about reader that’s obsessed with peter b parker’s tummy? like how he lets reader indulge in that obsession, teasing reader for how just having their face in his belly drives them wild :) a hot ending would be great toooo

sorry this kinda turned into the reader teasing peter insteadD:

cw : NSFW 18+, MINORS DNI, gn!reader, mostly fluff, established relationship, kinda sub!peter? he's whiny in this, like one mention of body hair, hints at smut but there's none:c, thick/dad bod(whatever you wanna call it)!peter appreciation<;33

Peter breathes out your name softly, and you glance up at him to find that he's covering his flushed face with an arm over his eyes, “Cut it out already,” he scolds but there's no strictness behind his tone. “I'm running late.”

“One more minute,” you say, and Peter knows you're lying but he can't bring himself to say anything when he feels you touching and squeezing his plump sides. He raises his arm a bit to peek down at you and holds his breath as you run your fingers from his bellybutton down, down to the waistband of his sweatpants, following the trail of his fuzzy hairs.

Peter bites his lip and runs both hands through his hair. He's so overwhelmed by you showering him with affection that he doesn't know what to do with himself. “You're so obsessed, it's kind of embarassing to be honest..” is what he chooses to say, his voice cracking slightly and he cringes. His heart swells when you huff out a laugh and nod, so much so that he feels it thumping in his throat.

“Promise you're never gonna get rid of your tummy? Please? 's so pretty, Peter.. can't get enough,” you talk with your cheek pressed against his belly, your words getting muffled as you turn to lay kisses across his chubby skin. Peter whines, his hips jumping up involuntarily. “M not gonna.. just... stop feeling me up or else I won't be able to go anywhere,”

You grin up at him and say, “That's fine with me,”. Your voice is dripping pure sin and it makes Peter want to scream and start running around like a maniac.

“That's fine with- Miguel will kill me if I don't show up, d'you want me dead or somethin'?”

“It's just a meeting, Peter..” you coo, shimmying your body down to straddle his thighs, humming when you spot the outline of his dick underneath those stupid grey sweatpants that he loved. They did look good on him... but the fact that he refused to put on underwear each time he wore them, knowing that it drove you insane, was absolutely evil.

You let your hand fall on his bulge, hearing him inhale sharply, and you bit your lip to try and stop yourself from smiling as you ran your hand up and down his length over the material, “Plus I'm gonna treat you so well if you stay.. I swear, baby.”

“God, you're such a -Oh fuck.. please...” Peter stutters when you bend down to bite at his chubby tummy softly, giving the skin a kiss right after.

“Please what?”

“Want your mouth on me so bad.. c'mon, I'll do anything-”

“Good boy,”

2023 © l13 | Do not steal, copy, edit, translate or re-post any of my works.

[awkward-walking-potato]

Yayy!! Requests!! Okay I don’t know if you’ve seen Stranger Things or not, so I’ll just rapid explain what I’m thinking of.

Deadpool x reader where it’s enemies to lovers. They are in the car (I see Wade being a passenger princess, so I like to imagine the reader is the one driving… your choice obvi), and they are in a full-fledged argument. Just completely bashing one another, insane insults… stuff like that. And then, Logan in the back seat is slowly losing his mind over the idiocy of these two (I like to imagine Peter sitting next to him too like in his own little world, drinking a juice box or something) before he just snaps and basically tells them what that bartender said when Wade went to recruit him earlier.

Hopefully this sparks some inspo 😁✨ if not that’s totally okay!!

(If you haven’t seen the show or the scene I’m talking about… I do highly recommend at least watching the clip. It’s actually very entertaining)

Insults on Wheels

The roar of the engine was loud enough to wake the dead, but it was nothing compared to the verbal onslaught happening in the front seat.

“You seriously think you’re the brains of this operation?” you snapped, eyes flicking between the road and the insufferable man beside you. “Your idea of strategy is just shooting everyone and hoping one of them was the bad guy!”

“Oh please,” Wade shot back, adjusting his seat like the passenger princess he was. “At least I do something! What’s your grand plan? Give the bad guys a stern talking-to? Maybe knit them a cozy sweater to show you mean business?”

You tightened your grip on the steering wheel, resisting the urge to swerve into oncoming traffic. “You know what, Wade? Maybe if you spent half as much time actually fighting as you do running your mouth, we wouldn’t be in this mess!”

“Right, because your brilliant move of not hitting the gas when we had the chance really paid off, huh?” Wade said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Next time, how about you just let me drive? You can stick to doing what you do best—nothing.”

“Oh, you think you could drive this car better?” you scoffed. “Last time you tried, you almost got us both killed because you were too busy checking yourself out in the rearview mirror!”

“That was one time!” Wade defended himself, slapping his hand on the dashboard. “And I looked great!”

Meanwhile, in the backseat, Logan sat with his arms crossed, a permanent scowl etched on his face. His knuckles were turning white as he clutched the seat, every muscle in his body tense. Next to him, Peter was entirely oblivious, sipping on a juice box, staring out the window as if this was the most normal day in the world.

“You’re impossible, you know that?” you snapped, shooting Wade a death glare.

“Impossible? Sweetheart, I’m the full package—brains, brawn, and a sense of humor. It’s not my fault you’re too dense to appreciate it.”

Before you could fire back, Logan let out a low growl, a warning sign that he was about to lose it.

But Wade, being Wade, just kept pushing. “You should be thanking me. Without me, you’d be—”

“DEAD! We know! You never shut up about it!” you interrupted, your patience wearing thin.

“Oh, and you’re so modest, aren’t you? Let me guess, it was your plan that got us into this mess?”

“That’s because someone had to think things through!”

“Yeah, well maybe if you weren’t so—”

Logan finally snapped. “ENOUGH!” he roared, making both you and Wade jump in your seats.

Dead silence filled the car. Even Peter stopped sipping his juice box, eyes wide as he turned to look at Logan.

“I swear to God,” Logan growled, leaning forward between the seats. “If I have to listen to one more second of this bullshit, I’m gonna pop my claws and end this car ride for good. You two wanna keep arguing, be my guest. But I’ll tell you what Weasel said when Wade tried recruiting me: ‘You two are so full of crap, you’re practically fertilizer. Now either kiss and make up or get the hell out of my bar!’”

You blinked, stunned into silence. Wade, for once, had nothing to say.

“And for the record,” Logan added, his voice a low rumble, “You both suck at driving.”

The car was quiet after that, the tension still thick but muted by Logan’s outburst. You and Wade exchanged glances, both of you too stubborn to apologize but too shocked to continue the fight.

Peter went back to his juice box, the sound of his slurping the only noise in the now eerily silent vehicle.

Finally, Wade broke the silence. “So… does this mean we’re not stopping for chimichangas?”

“Shut up, Wade,” you both said in unison, and for the first time, there was a hint of a smile tugging at your lips.

Maybe Logan was right. Maybe you were both full of crap. But you had to admit, the arguing was kind of fun.

[demxnicprxncess]

hiii, could I request “how the evans would ask/react to roadhead”? ty!

coming right up.

Taglist: @kitwalkersgfff, @ppawmpkin, @yes-divine-ruler, @quicksilversg1rl, @charsdunkie lmk if you would like to be added or removed my dears.

Warnings: isnt it obvious that its just flat out nsfw?

How the Evans, ask, and react, to the reader giving them road head.

Tate Langdon:

How he asks: It would start out as a joke, like he'd be singing a song that you'd call ass, and he would glare at you and reply with something along the lines of "suck my dick" because he's a sassy bitch. And you'd be like "We're in a damn car" just continuing with the joke but then he'd use one hand to unbutton and unzip his pants before saying something stupid like, "So? You shouldn't starve yourself."

How he reacts: He whines, grips your hair, and forces you down even more, yeah, all that good stuff. But I also feel like he'd run some red lights and even stop signs, whilst stopping at green lights, he would possibly even almost crash. So :/. The first-time you guys tried it was also the last time because you didn't want to die giving him head in a fucking car.

Kit Walker:

How he asks: He doesn't, it wasn't his idea. It was just a long ride, and he was tired, so you decided to get his blood flowing by giving him head. He'd instinctively ask what the literal fuck you were doing, and you'd be like "Keeping you awake." No more questions would be asked; However, he would want to pull over, but you'd tell him no.

How he'd react: Sketchy as fuck. Like he'd be looking around all scared that anyone would see you guys, even if you were driving. Would take time at red lights to either grip your hair or even place a hand on your boobs. He would offer once again to pull over and you hum nos against his dick driving him absolutely insane. As he's about to cum he pulls you up, and either you're at your destination or in some alley, he fucks you in the backseat. However, if you are at you r house for the destination, he fucks you in your guy's bed.

Kyle Spencer (pre-death)

How he asks: He seen it in a porn video and wanted to try one day. He was absolutely horny and couldn't do anything while driving so he kind of hinted at the idea, not fully asking. Something much like, "Hey babe my friend sent me this video... well the dude was getting something called 'road head'", he sucked at trying to drop hints, because he sounded lowkey desperate. "Okay and?" you'd reply forcing him to ask. "Can we try it? I mean if you don't want to, we don't have t-" He'd be stopped because you were already pulling his dick out of his pants.

How he reacts: He swears up and down he looked so fucking cool. He didn't. He was a whiney baby, and when he was going to cum, he had to pull over. Which he would kiss you, you'd crawl into his lap and boom. You guys are having sex in a damn Mc Donalds parking lot. Hope you're proud of yourselves.

Jimmy Darling:

How he'd ask: You'd beg him to drive your car, since it was too cold, and he said only if you'd give him head while he drove. Which you did because why not.

How he'd react: Praise, degrade, degrade and praise again and again in that order. "Fuck, you're so good with your little mouth." and then, "Fuck you're such a whore for me hm?", and then my favorite, "Such a good mouth on a slut. I fucking love you." In the end yall would make out and he'd drive you to where you needed to go after car sex, when your done with your business, more car sex. When you get to camp sex in the caravan. SEX, SEX, SEX, that's how road head goes with our darling boy Jimmy Neutron.

I will do part two with Kai, James, Alex, and Peter tmr guys im tired :/

[spidey-stark]

Peter Parker x Reader

Summary - Peter is late for yet another date with the reader and shows up to her apartment injured and finally ready to share his secret identity with them. 

Warnings - Mentions of sex, mentions of blood 

Word Count - 2,669

Authors Note - I’m still just madly in love with Andrew Garfield rn so I can’t stop writing bad one shots about tasm!Peter. 

Three hours and thirty-seven minutes. 

That’s how long I had been waiting on him. Over three-and-a-half hours of sitting cross-legged on the end of the my bed, patiently staring at the phone screen and hoping to see it light up with his contact picture. After the first hour had passed, though, that patience quickly began to morph into annoyance as I sent a somewhat passive aggressive text his way--once again getting no reply. But at least I still had some hope that he would eventually respond. However, by the time the second hour rolled around, most of that hope had been completely lost. 

Being late once or twice is one thing. Things happen and I was well aware that people couldn’t always be as punctual as I might prefer. This wasn’t the first time that Pete had left me hanging without so much as a simple text though. Hell, it wasn’t even the first time this week that he had been late. 

I stared blankly at the phone, reaching forward to tap the screen to make it light up, displaying my lockscreen. That picture was probably one of the only things that was keeping me from being totally furious with him. 

It was hard to look at the picture that his Aunt May had snapped of the two of us without having all my anger fade away just a bit. The sight of the two of us after we had fallen asleep on their couch one night--his arms wrapped around me with his mouth wide open and my face buried in his chest--made it difficult to continue being mad at him. Staying mad at Pete had always been difficult. But lately it was less about being angry with him and more about feeling hurt. 

Just as I leaned my head back slightly, my fingers pulling at my hair for probably the billionth time tonight, I felt my mattress vibrating from underneath my phone. Quickly, I snatched it off the bed, hitting the green button before it could even complete the first ring. 

“What’s the excuse this time, Pete?” I sighed into the phone. 

“I am so sorry-” it was hard to even hear what he was saying over the sound of wind blowing into the speaker, but even then it was still evident from his tone that the apology was genuine. “I swear I was going to call and let you know that I was going to be late but I just couldn’t find the time and then-” 

“Save it.” I interrupted him. “Don’t worry about it tonight, ok? I get it. Things happen.” 

“No!” Peter protested, groaning slightly. “I’m almost to your apartment and I promise that I’ll explain everything to you.” 

I pulled the phone away from my face for a just a moment to check the time. “Peter it’s already eleven o’clock! Just go home.” 

“Too late.” He stated just before the line went dead, a knock on my bedroom window causing my head to jolt in that direction. 

You’ve got to be kidding me I thought as I jumped to my feet, rushing over to the window and throwing the curtains open to be met with Peters face, displaying his typical goofy over-exaggerated grin. 

“What the hell Peter?” I pushed the window up so he could come in. “What are you doing? How did you even get here? We are literally fifteen stories up right now how the fuck did you manage to get to my window?” 

Peter chuckled a bit, his voice coming out kind of breathy, “Can’t go giving you all my secrets, can I?” 

As he went to climb through the window into my room I turned around, resting my hands in my hair once again as I went right back to nervously pulling at it. “You are seriously gonna drive me insane, Parker.” I began the anxious and frustrated rant we both knew was coming. “I mean, what, first you’re gonna scare the absolute hell out of me by showing up late as hell at my bedroom window and god knows how you even managed to get up here in the first place. And on top of that this is like-the fifth time that you have ditched me this week. Do you know how much that sucks Peter? How much it hurts? You don’t call. You don’t text. Nothing.” I shook my head slightly, my eyes glued to the ground and my back still turned to him. “Absolutely nothing.” 

Peter remained silent for a moment, knowing that any response he had to give right now likely wouldn’t make me feel any better in this moment. “I know this is probably hard to believe but I promise that it hurts me just as much as it hurts you.” 

Wrong response, Parker. 

I quickly turned on my heal, already spouting off some nonsense about how he couldn’t possibly be saying such a stupid thing to me right now when he was the one that had been ditching me nonstop lately, but before I could even make my point I stopped mid-sentence at the sight of him. This was the first time I had looked in his direction since he had entered my bedroom, the light coming from my desk lamp allowing me to see what the streetlights from my window did not. 

“Oh my god.” My voice was just barely above a whisper, my hand instinctively covering my mouth in shock as I took in what I was seeing. “What happened to you, Pete?” 

Every ounce of anger in my body vanished in an instant at the sight of him standing there, his face covered in dirt and his hand pressing tightly onto his abdomen, his shirt soaked through with blood. 

“No no-” Peter moved closer to me, lifting his hand that wasn’t covered in blood to place a finger against my lips to shush me, “Keep being angry! You have every right to be mad at me right now! So go for it! Keep screaming!” 

I glared at him. “You’re intolerable.” 

“Ah but you love that about me.” 

Usually Peter’s cheeky comments were always enough to bring a smile to my face, but right now it was impossible to focus on anything other than the idea of my boyfriend bleeding out in the bedroom. I mean, how would I even begin to explain that to my parents? 

“Please just tell me what happened to you because I am about five seconds away from having a full-blown panic attack.” I told him honestly, the shock wearing off just enough for me to come to my senses and help guide him over to the edge of the bed so he could sit down, sinking to my knees in front of him so I could look at the wound on his stomach. 

“It’s just a little cut.” Pete said casually, brushing it off like he wasn’t bleeding on my comforter. “Besides, how am I supposed to focus on talking about literally anything when you look so good on your knees for me?” 

I shot a cold look up at him, both of us knowing damn good and well that this was not the time for this. Without even acknowledging his remark I went to lift the bottom of his shirt, knowing that I obviously wasn’t going to get any answers out of him anytime soon. As the fabric lifted off the wound I heard him hiss, his teeth gritting together at the sensation shooting through his abdomen. “What the hell.” I muttered under my breath as I took a look at the gash on his side. “What did you do Pete?” 

“Look,” Peter began, losing any trace of his once cocky and sarcastic tone. “I promise that I’ll explain. Cause I know this is a lot and I’m sorry but you were the only person I knew to come to with this. So could you please help me patch this up? Because believe it or not? This hurts like a bitch.” 

“Trust me, I can believe it.” I quickly raised myself back up to my feet, “Wait here for a second.” He nodded in response as I snuck out of my bedroom door, careful not to make too much noise in fear of gaining my parents attention. I rushed to the bathroom as quickly as I could, gathering the few medical supplies we did have. Gauze, medical tape, some bandaids, and Neosporin. Was the Neosporin necessary? For something so deep? I wasn’t quite sure but I grabbed it anyways and grabbed a few cloths, dampening them before making my way back to my bedroom. 

Peter was now sprawled out across the bed, his shirt now laying in a ball on the floor. 

“Okay,” I started, swallowing hard as I once again glanced at the gash on his stomach. Maybe now would be a bad time to tell him blood makes me squeamish. “Here’s how this is going to work. I’m gonna work on keeping you from... dying. And you? Are going to explain what you were doing for this to happen.” I instructed. 

“You don’t wanna keep talking about you being upset?” He leaned back up slightly, groaning at the feeling. 

“Me being upset is actually the last thing on my mind right now.” 

With that I sat all the supplies down by his feet, settling on the floor in-between his legs once again and beginning to get to work on cleaning him up, dabbing at the blood with one of the wet cloths. “So? Get to talking, Parker.” 

“Okay-” He let out a deep breath. “Would you believe me if I told you that I’m actually a super-criminal? And I got this injury during my latest encounter with the law?” 

I stopped wiping the blood off of him, shooting him a stern look as I went to grab the roll of gauze. “No.” 

He hummed lightly, frowning a bit. “Fair enough. I would be a pretty bad criminal, don’t you think?” 

“Peter I’m being serious here.” I told him as I lightly began to press the gauze against the wound, holding it in place with one hand while I reached for the medical tape with the other. 

“Okay, okay.” He held his hands up defensively. “I’m Spider-Man.” 

I paused, my hands pressing lightly against the piece of tape that I was sticking against the gauze and his skin, my eyes fluttering up to meet his. 

“You don’t have a serious bone in your body, do you?” 

“Why do you think I’m not being serious?” 

“Pete you’re not Spider-Man.” 

“Yes, I am.” 

“This isn’t funny.” 

“Good thing I’m not laughing.” 

I narrowed my eyes at him before ripping off another piece of tape, securing it to his body to finish dressing his wound before quickly standing up. “Alright then Spidey-” I rolled my eyes as the word fell out of my mouth, “Go on. Prove it.” 

“How do you want me to prove it?” 

“I don’t know! If you’re Spider-Man then do some spider things!” I cried out, immediately regretting my loud tone as I remembered my parents who were asleep just down the hall. 

“What are spider things?” He held up air quotes as he spoke, laughing a bit too hard as he spoke, his hand instinctively gripping his stomach in pain. 

I shrugged at him. “How am I supposed to know? I’m not the one claiming to be Spider-Man!” 

Peter threw his head back. “Well I’m not exactly in the condition to be doing... spider things.” he pointed towards the window, where he had obviously sat his backpack down on the way in. “Just look in there, alright?” 

I didn’t want to be mad at him anymore. I had already spent so long tonight being pissed with him and seeing him injured at least made that problem go away for a bit, but now sitting here and watching him make this entire situation into a huge joke was just making the anger come back ten times worse than before. As I leaned down next to his backpack and began to unzip it he spoke up again, “Before you look-” I glanced over my shoulder at him, noting the look of genuine concern and... fear that painted his face. “just know that I’ve wanted to tell you about this for so long Y/N. Literally, so long.” 

I didn’t respond to him, though his words did send a wave of anxiety crashing down on me. There was absolutely no way that Peter was being serious with all of this. No way at all. And yet as I unzipped the bag I found myself unable to breathe as I waited to see what was inside. 

“Holy shit.” I breathed, eyes shifting back and forth between the contents of the bag and my boyfriend. “You...You’re not joking, are you?” 

He responded with nothing more than a tight lipped smile, the fearful expression still there. 

I reached in and grabbed the red mask, running my fingers over the white patches where his eyes would be. “This is so unfair.” I stated, my voice completely devoid of emotion. I could tell Peter was unsure of how to process my words, still obviously not knowing whether or not his admission was being taken well. “How am I supposed to be mad at you for being late if you are freaking Spider-Man?” 

Peter sighed, a small chuckle following it, clearly somewhat relieved by my reaction. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” 

I walked over to him, mask still in hand, and carefully crawled onto his lap and placed my free hand on his face. “You really should be. Being a superhero isn’t exactly the sort of thing you hide from your girlfriend, Pete.” 

Peter snorted. “How are you being so cool with this? I expected you to flip out on me or-I don’t know-maybe even breakup with me or something. But you’re just... Being... You.” 

“Ah, yeah. Well, I think I’m probably in shock from patching up a giant gash on my boyfriends stomach and then finding out that he can shoot webs from his wrists and swings around New York city on a daily basis.” 

“Ya know what? That’s fair.” Peter nodded at me, wrapping his arms around my waist. “I’m just glad that you know now. Because I have seriously hated keeping this from you so much. Plus? It’s kinda nice to have my own personal nurse.” He winked playfully, lightly squeezing my sides. 

“Yeah let’s not make a regular thing out of that one.” I replied quickly, knowing that my heart could only take so many times of Peter showing up to my bedroom window with blood all over him before it eventually just gives out. 

“No promises.” He said as he pulled me into his body, burying his face into my chest and mumbling, “So you’re sure you are okay with this?” 

I smiled to myself, running my hand through his hair. “To be honest? I don’t think I’ve really processed it yet.” I told him honestly. “But I think I can be. And at least in the future when you’re late for our dates I’ll know it’s because you’re out saving the city or something! But I do need you to promise me something.” 

“What?” He spoke, his voice still muffled with his face pressed against me. 

“It only seems fair that you make all of these missed dates up to me, right?” 

Peter nodded his head in agreement. I leaned back a bit, forcing him to move his face away from my chest so he would look up at me and once he was looking I held up the Spider-Man mask with a devilish grin. “Fuck me in the suit?” 

Peter’s eyes practically bulged out of his head at the words, his jaw falling slack and nodding rapidly. 

“Hell yes.” 

[thatredheadwriter]

All to Myself

TASM!Peter Parker x reader

Peter comes home from patrol to find his girlfriend started without him. You only hope he’ll give you the relief you’ve been chasing.

Hey everybody! So some other blogs I follow have been making me thirsty for TASM!Peter Parker and I decided to do something about it. Now, do I literally have 25+ WIPs (not including asks) rn? Yes, yes I do. But my brain only likes to work on things it wants to work on, so here’s this. Sorry if it’s trash, but I like it. Most of this is total pwp, but I have plans to do a prequel fic that is fluffy and angsty and maybe a little smutty. Btw, I kinda hate the ending, but it felt nice.

This is an NSFW oneshot for (implied female) reader with TASM!Peter Parker. This work contains smut and mature language and should not be read by those under 18 (or the age of majority in your locale). As a writer, I will attempt to make accurate warnings for each of my fics, however I cannot guarantee that I will identify each and every sensitive topic. My works regularly contain swearing, allusions to/mentions of sex, and canon level violence.

Warnings Include (but are not limited to):

Sex toys

Female masturbation

Edging

Slight (consensual in the sense that it’s a shared bedroom where they are often intimate, but its not explicitly consented to, so possibly dub-) consensual voyeurism

dom!Peter (if you squint, but you don’t have to squint too hard)

Female orgasm denial

Oral (female receiving)

Fingering

P in V penetrative sex

Unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it)

Mentions of shower sex (not really a warning, just pretty please be careful if you try it in real life, cause y’know, it’s slippery)

Please read at your own discretion and consume your fanfiction responsibly.

You pulled the silicone toy out of your aching cunt only to rub it over your clit, free hand fisting the sheets as you bit back a moan. The orgasm you were chasing was so close, you were so close to that edge. You’d been close for the last hour, but you just couldn’t reach that final peak. You huffed to blow some loose hair out of your face before moving the toy back down to your glistening hole.

Peter had been ridiculously busy between his day job and his side-gig, usually not swinging in until well after you’d gone to bed. You yourself had been occupied moving your things into the apartment and going through a million different trainings and orientations at the hospital, just so you could start working the graveyard shift full time next week.

Determined to get some relief, you imagined it was Peter playing with you instead of yourself. His cock buried deep inside you, his fingers pinching your nipples through the thin fabric of your nightshirt. The moan leaving your mouth was cut off by a dark chuckle coming from the corner of your room. Your head shot up from the pillow to see Peter leaned against the wall wearing his suit and a wicked smirk.

“You have no idea how hot you look right now,” he flashed a lopsided grin, pushing off from a stack of boxes and closing the short distance to the bed. The elastic material of his suit left little to the imagination and you could see a large and growing bulge between his legs.

“Peter, I just got so…I wanted to wait but…”

“Oh, I know. I know exactly what you were doing, sweets. Now I’m just wondering if you should keep going, or if you’d rather let me take over?”

“Please,” you whimpered, “take over. It’s been an hour and I just can’t…” your begging came out in ragged breaths, you were nearly sobbing, ready for release.

His look softened, but his eyes stayed hungry as he stripped off the top half of his suit, followed quickly by the bottom, leaving him only in his boxer briefs. He palmed himself through them for a moment before leaning in to kiss you. The kiss was a heady mixture, combining with your extreme arousal to drive you just the slightest bit insane. Your nails slid down the muscles of his back as you tried to pull him closer to you.

“Pete, please, I need you,” you whined.

“I know, I know baby,” he broke away to coo in your ear, pressing a kiss to the tender skin underneath it, leaving a sloppy trail down your neck. “I just need to taste you first. I was going to come in the front door, but then I was on the roof and I could just smell that sweet pussy. I knew you needed me, so I decided to slip in the window and see what you were up to.”

He tugged lightly at the bottom of your shirt and you sat up just enough for him to pull it up and over your head, exposing your nipples to the cool air. The corner of his lip dragged up as he took in your bare chest, a sight he swore he’d never get used to. Before you knew it, his hot mouth was back on your sensitive skin, biting and marking all over, successfully making you even more desperate for his cock.

By the time he continued his journey southward you were writing underneath him, grinding your bare slit up against his leg.

“Please, I just need you to touch me.”

“What do you think I’ve been doing, sweets?” he joked, earning him a playful smack on the chest.

“Dammit, Peter. If you don’t hurry up, I’m going back to the-”

Two of Pete’s long, nimble fingers thrusting deep into your heat cut you off, and you threw your head back in ecstasy as they expertly found your g-spot.

“What was that, baby?”

You could only whimper in pleasure as his mouth joined his fingers, sucking at your folds and sensitive clit as he worked you open, getting you ready for him.

In just over a minute, he had you closer than you’d gotten yourself in an hour, Your fingers were tangled in his chestnut hair, keeping him close. Not that he was pulling away. No his tongue was buried deep within your folds and a third finger joined the first two in fucking your cunt.

“God, Peter! I’m gonna cum,” you warned, your hips driving up to meet his thrusts.

You were there, on the edge, when suddenly everything stopped. His hair slipped through your fingers and he was no longer touching you. Neither you nor Peter recognized the noise that came out of your mouth. It was some sort of primal scream.

“Shh, shhh, baby, I’m going to let you cum, but not yet,” his words did little to calm you, especially as you finally caught sight of his leaking cock. “Want to feel you come undone around me.”

You just whimpered in excitement as he lowered his body over yours, leaning in to capture your lips in another bruising kiss. He swallowed one of your whines as he slid his tip between your folds. Slicking himself with your juices, he took his time before finally pushing into you. He bottomed out in a single thrust and you couldn’t help the deep moan that escaped.

“That’s it, baby, gonna make you cum on my cock,” Peter’s teeth scraped the shell of your ear and he began thrusting into you at an animalistic pace. One hand tangled itself in your hair and pulled sharply, exposing the skin of your neck to a fresh assault from his wet mouth. His other hand ended up on the headboard, supporting his weight and steadying it a bit from knocking into the wall.

“Oh…Peter. Fuck…I can’t. Gonna…” Peter had fucked your brains into mush, sentences were impossible.

“Come on, (Y/N). Cum for me.”

Your world fell apart in a violent explosion of bliss as your face was frozen in a silent scream. You were vaguely aware of Peter still fucking you like his life depended on it, but it felt like he was a world away. Your cunt clenched and fluttered around his length and you could tell he was close to his own release.

Just as you were coming back around to the real world, Peter pulled out of your sensitive sex and painted your chest and belly with cum. He rolled to the side, chest heaving.

Your vision came back into focus and you were greeted to the sight of post-orgasm Peter. His hair stuck out in all different directions and a permanent grin was etched into his face. One of his hands found its way to your face and he began stroking your cheek.

“Hey, sweets,” he sighed, “You still with me?”

Your own breath was just beginning to slow, so you just gave him a sleepy smile and a nod, making him chuckle a bit.

“M’sorry I’ve been so busy lately,” the rough pad of his thumb caressed your jawbone as he rolled over to kiss you again.

“I’ve been busy too, Petey,” you grinned, using the nickname you’d given him way back when you met the glasses-wearing, messy-haired little boy who had been your best friend for nearly twenty years now.

“Let’s go on a date.”

Your face twisted into one of confusion before you both burst into laughter.

“Babe, come on. You just fucked my brains out. I love you too, but maybe we should go out literally any other time,” you laughed.

“Fine, then a date-night in? I can swing out, get some dinner, maybe some of that raspberry cheesecake from Junior’s that you love so much?”

You pretended to think for a minute before answering him, “I think I’d be down for that. But I’d rather order delivery?”

“Why? I’m faster and the food will be hotter, not to mention you can tip me by doing some more of-”

You cut him off with a playful elbow to the chest. “I’d rather pay extra for delivery if it means I get to have you all to myself for the rest of the night.”

“Mmmm,” he hummed, “I guess I can understand that.”

With that, you got out of bed and made your way to the door. Looking over your shoulder you couldn’t help chuckle at Peter’s confused face.

“You order the food, I’m going to go clean up. Maybe if you hurry, you can join me in the shower for round two.”

The last thing you saw as you exited the bedroom was Peter diving for his discarded suit and the phone within, hellbent finishing the order before you finished in the shower.

thatredheadwriter’s Masterlist

[rancidpancakebatter]

Grip Tape-Chapter 13 [P.P.]

Pairings: Peter Parker x AFAB Reader

Summary: Peter offers to teach you how to skateboard and who are you to say no? This is a pre-bite fic so we get to enjoy Peter Parker in his full Dorky Display.

Word Count: 2k words

Content: MINORS DNI: 18+ Swearing, Marijana Use, Underage Drinking, Bullying

( Previous | Chapter List | Next )

Chapter Summary: Trevor's Party!

A/N: Drinking, great dad advice, please be careful when drinking lovelies

Everyone piled into the car once again. You decided to listen to early 2000’s music to get into a party mindset. You sat in the backseat with Peter once again and he sang along with you. It was a 30-minute drive to Trevor’s and your dad convinced you to be an hour late.

“Parties don’t really start on time and then you don’t have to do the weird socializing thing.” He told you. Your father was apparently quite the ‘Party Animal’ back in the day. This was both incredibly surprising news but also the most expected thing to learn about your Pops.

He spent most of the car ride giving pointers: Don’t let anyone pour your drinks, drink slow, stay hydrated, remember the buddy system, and most importantly, “There’s no shame in throwing up.”

Your Pops was trying to be really cool about the whole situation. He spent years studying childhood development. He had tried his best to let you grow at your own pace. He encouraged you to take risks and you felt safe doing so because you knew he would always be right there to catch you.

He knew that you were a good kid. But it was scary, letting you be a kid. You were honest about your intentions and what this party was going to be. You had never been anything but responsible. He had no reason to doubt you. But he would be lying if he said he was fine with his little baby going to a rowdy get-together with underage drinking and no parental supervision.

He continued to glance in the rearview mirror, examining your and Peter’s body language. You seemed comfortable in his arms, happy, safe. That made him very happy, to say the least. Peter seemed oblivious to his gaze. He seemed happy and comfortable too. But he also seemed defensive. Your father couldn’t figure out why. Did you like him more than he liked you? Was he scared of liking you? Maybe he was just anxious about the party.

When you finally arrived at Trevor’s your father slowed down, turning on his hazards. You felt your chest bubble with excitement. Your first high school party. This was insane. You couldn’t wait to blaze toward this milestone. Your father unbuckled and turned around in his seat. He was wearing a very serious expression, one you didn’t see often.

“I need you to promise me that you’ll be safe tonight.” You dumbly nodded at the man, your brain slowly catching up to the severity of the moment.

“Try to stick to Peter and if you need anything, I mean anything, I need you to promise to call me.”

You nodded your head again, before replying. “I promise Pops.”

He leaned between the seats with open arms and you embraced your father. You were growing up, and it was hard. He pulled away now looking to Peter.

“Son, please keep an eye on her. Understand, she is not your responsibility, she is responsible for herself and her own actions. But please…care for her.” Peter looked a little scared but nodded his head, glancing quikly at you. Your father made Peter put his number into his phone so he could call your Pops if anything happened.

You grabbed Peter’s hands as you made your way up the brick path to the Daniel’s home. They had a very large house, 3 stories at least. It looked very modern-colonial. You could hear the bass thumping and see the colourful lights flashing from behind the closed blinds. You stopped at the door, looking back at your father’s car still parked in the street. You smiled and you hoped he could see it.

Peter gave you a reassuring squeeze, “You ready?” For the third time tonight. You nodded your head. Peter opened the door.

It looked like almost everyone from school was there. The air was hot and sticky as you and Peter pushed your way through the sweaty teens. You made your way to the kitchen where it seemed a little less crowded. There were tons of drinks, mostly beer and wine coolers. Nothing that looked too appealing to you. You remembered then that maybe you should let Trevor know you were here. You shot him a text telling him you were in the kitchen and it wasn’t long until you heard your name loudly called from the doorway.

You turned to see Trevor in a backwards snapback, an open hawaiian shirt, and and cargo shorts. You smiled at him and he wrapped his arms around you. You froze in his embrace, awkwardly patting his back. He pulled away, his arms now on your shoulders.

“(Y/n),” He said softly, before shouting again, throwing his arms into the air, “You’re here!”

You tried not to flinch at the change in volume. You knew he wasn’t doing it on purpose, he was just a little drunk. You chuckled repeating, ‘I’m here.’ in a soft joking voice. Trevor only seemed to notice Peter standing behind you then. He took a step back and his smile seemed to falter a bit.

“Parker’s here.” He looked back at you and you felt uneasy, “You brought Parker?”

You took a step back stretching your hand behind you. Peter seemed to catch the hint and clasped it as you pulled him beside you.

“Yeah, sorry, I guess I just assumed my invitation came with a plus one.” You laughed awkwardly.

Trevor looked between you two a few times before he shrugged. “Yeah it’s cool. Hey, follow me I have a treat for you guys.” He wiggled his finger like a worm at the both of you and you followed.

It was hard to follow an inebriated teen through a crowd of more inebriated teens but you managed to cross the first floor, the second floor, and two stair cases without losing him. Trevor had led you to his bedroom. You and Peter stood awkwardly just inside the doorway while trevor dug through his (very nice, very spacious) walk in closet. You heard him cheer and he reappeared with a glass handle of Tito’s.

You clapped your hands excitedly and took it from him, cradling it like a newborn in your arms. Trevor warned you that you shouldn’t bring it downstairs unless you planned on sharing, then left dancing to the music coming from the living room.

You and Peter played rock, paper, scissors to see who went back to the kitchen to get mixers. You won and sat on Trevor’s bed, quietly waiting for him. You were delighted to see him return with two cups and pink lemonade. You asked him to make a drink for you and he happily obliged. He handed you the cup joining you on the bed. You explained that you had never had more than a sip before and Peter told you that it was only a shot of each, so you could get a taste. You clinked cups and downed it.

It tasted bitter and sweet. You could taste the liquor and the warmth it brought to first your tongue and then your throat before the fire settled in your stomach. You shuttered and Peter giggled at you. You slugged him lightly in the arm. After three more of those you felt pretty good about joining the party. Peter made you a ‘to-go’ cup and you made your way back down the stairs.

You noted that this was a different high than the one you experienced before. Weed made you feel like faries were dancing on your brain, alcohol made you feel like mermaids were swimming through your viens. You couldn’t decide which one you liked more. You grabbed both of Peter’s arms and began spinning around. He laughed at you once again and it sounded like your favourite song.

He dropped one of your hands twirling you around. You had never been happier. You felt his hand on your waist and it pulled you into him, face to face. His grin matched yours. You leaned forward, on your tippy toes, to give him a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“I wanna dance.” And dance you did. You pulled him onto the dance floor that was once a family room. You felt your heart beat with the bass. While you didn’t know the songs you jumped around as if you had the words tangled around your heart. Peter jumped around with you feeling very free for the first time in a long time.

You seemed ethereal. You made peace signs pulling them across your eyes to the beat and Peter had never felt so lucky. You were his. Or more accurately he was yours. You were everything to him in this moment, and he imaged that this moment would last a long time. He took another sip of his drink and you did the same. It wasn’t nearly as gross now that it was mostly lemonade.

You danced and danced until your cup was empty. Peter led you to the kitchen to get some water. He saw you pouting at the counter and laughed. You turned around to face him and he made grabby hands at you. You giggled as he helped you onto the counter. There you sat dangling your feet. You watched as Peter got some water for the both of you. He lacked his usual grace (not that he was particularly graceful before his 5ish shots) but you still thought he was beautiful.

He leaned against the counter next to you, passing you your cup. You took a gentle sip and he did the same, his eyes never leaving you. He wanted to confess all of his feelings right then and there. To spill his heart out to you and pray that you didn’t mind the mess. But his thoughts wandered. They wandered to his biting insecurities. Ones he didn’t like to admit he had. They wandered to Trevor.

“I think Trevor likes you.” He blurted it out before his brain could tell him not to. Peter is not the sympathetic poet that you are. His brain was too busy trying to hold itself up to be concerned with what the rest of his body was doing. You giggled at him, completely unaware of the swirling thoughts in Peter’s head.

“No, he doesn’t. Why would he like me?” You drew out the words almost comically. The thought was absolutely ridiculous. “You’re being silly. No one likes me.”

The words left your mouth and your laughter glittered with scales. You felt so weighty but buoyant at the same time. Like you were floating through the thick air. You threw your head back with laughter at such a ridiculous notion. Your body followed its lead and you began to fall back against the counter. You felt a firm grip on your shoulders pulling you forward and your head lulled in the same direction.

Peter was now standing in front of you, leaning against your knees. Scales were still falling from your mouth but the mermaids stopped when you saw his face. Peter’s face seemed angry but his eyes held great sorrow. Without the mermaids swimming around you forgot how to move.

Time stilled as Peter continued to look at you. “What do you mean?”

Your tongue felt heavy but you forced the muscle to move. “I mean…that’s silly…no one has ever had a crush on me- I’m just…I’m just me.”

You hoped that your answer made sense because you felt like nothing else did. You weren’t necessary ‘invisible’ but you were not sought after. You had survived your peers by continuing to stay a neutral threat on the radar. No one felt like they needed to attack you because you weren’t a danger to anyone else’s status.

“But...I...like just you.” Peter’s voice was quiet, barely heard over the intruding music.

You opened your legs and he fell between them. He collided with you and you wrapped your arms around him. You eventually felt his arms wrap around your waist and you let out a deep breath. Peter thought your corset was a bit uncomfortable but opted not to complain as it also pushed up your boobs and that made for a very nice pillow.

“You’re amazing. You know that?” it was mumbled but you understood him all the same. You didn’t quite know how to respond so you kissed the top of his head, hoping he would understand what you meant.

Tag List:@andrews-lovr @ilovemoonknight @l0ptlaufeys0n @negasonic-teenage-asshole @preciousbabypeter @princesskittycatofmeowland @rudy-the-winged-wolf @wannapizzamymindposts @whoreforklitz

[gallifreystands]

***Zombies, Run! Season 5 spoilers***

Okay so I ran another mission today yeah? Changes. Got to run with Peter again, had a bit of a laugh at the beginning when Janine says to make sure the Ex Moor Militia jacket is clearly visible at all times and I *had* dressed in my bright yellow jacket today because it was cold/for visibility so I really felt the part 😂 And I didn’t mind running with Peter? He seems really fun, if a little chaotic 😂 I honestly think it was the Neverwhere reference that won me over, it got a genuine smile out of me.

B u t. He has been to New Canton before, he knows Jody likes knitting, and Sam likes D&D. He seems to know Janine’s personality. The “I don’t put people at risk anymore” line made me emotional. The ice cream tower line gave Sam such pause, there’s def something up. Also??? He got?? Shot??? And they said there was a lot of blood but then he says “look, its only a scratch” and I couldn’t help but think that the other person we’ve seen demonstrate healing powers like that was Van Ark, which is *concerning*. But he can’t look like Van Ark or we’d have noticed, right? But there was this moment while I was running where I swear for a minute his voice sounded familiar, like someone I couldn’t place, and it’s been driving me insane because I relistened to the clips and now I can’t find it 😅 so I’ll just be over here with my red string board trying to figure out where we met this guy before because there is no way on earth he just got all this stuff from a “ministry report” on us. No way. So brb gonna go scour and make a list of minor characters we’ve met in the past four seasons 😂 I think the run tomorrow has him in it again and I’m hoping for more hints at how he knows us, I was so mad when Sam had to change the subject when he got the message about the fuel extraction 😂 Like no, keep asking questions, *I* want to ask questions. But I’m swayed maybe. I think I do like him, especially after the letter he gives Five at the end with the gifts 🥺

[simsadventures]

Panopticon: Chapter 27: War Path

Alpha Steve x Omega Reader

Summary: Steve is livid and tries to find you but somebody keeps putting obstacles in his way. You, on the other hand, get to meet the devils and learn some harsh truths.

Warnings: a/b/o dynamics, angst, abduction, slight mentions of torture, life in captivity, lying, swearing, mentions of violence against women, shitty people in general, loads of feels, I would hope, mentions of suicide, mentions of death

Word Count: 3800

A/N: Du dun… Who is ready for some angst? Many of you weren’t happy that we’re taking this route, but it needed to happen because the world is full of assholes who try to make people unhappy. Anyway, so excited about this one, and I can’t wait for you to tell me what you thought. Love you all!! xx

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“That won’t help to find my Omega, so no!” Steve yelled across the whole room, and even the experienced Alpha fighters gathered in the room couldn’t help but shudder at Steve’s authoritative voice. They were trying to help, coming up with new ideas to try and bring the Circle down, or at least make somebody from the inside communicate with them to tell Steve and his team the location of his Omega. But no idea was good enough for Steve. 

It had been four days. Four days without his precious Omega, and Steve felt like he was slowly losing his mind. He desperately needed you next to him, just to feel your warm, soft skin pressed against his, or to see the light in your eyes whenever you looked at him. But he had nothing. 

He often saw broken Alphas after all that went down on Earth a few years ago, and while he couldn’t really imagine what they must have been feeling at that time, walking like dead men, some of them on the brink of death because they just couldn’t handle their lives without their loved ones, Steve understood it all now. 

He knew he had to concentrate because he felt you in his veins, felt that you were alright considering the circumstances and, most importantly, that you were still alive. That was the sole reason why he didn’t end it yet. But he was hanging on a thread because each day and night he had to spend without you, his mind was going just a little more insane. He was hearing your voice and this morning, he even saw you standing by the bed. He was elated, but when he blinked a few more times, he realised that it was his brain playing tricks on him and that none of what had happened was just a nightmare. 

Moreover, he had to orchestrate a funeral for Peter and Gamora. The sadness over their loss was embedded deep in Steve’s soul, and he knew he would never get over it, even if he got you back. When he got you back, he scolded himself every time he thought of it, but it was to no avail. The desperation and pain seeped deep into his bones, and the once positive Alpha, who used to be full of life was just a walking shell of numbness. 

Sam and Bucky tried to pick up the mood in the room now and then, but they knew all too well that there was nothing they could say or do to make the situation better. The only thing Steve really needed was to get you back, and they empathised with him. Moments after the realisation hit them that you were indeed gone, they rushed to their own huts to check on their own mates. Their bonds felt fine, but the fucked-up situation got into their heads, and they needed to see their loves for themselves. Both Meera and Tina were sitting comfortably in their houses, unaware of the terror going on just mere meters away from them. They all spent the afternoon scenting and crying, their hearts clenching for their friend who was lost in his thoughts and his pain. 

But Steve tried to come up with a solution. He knew Rumlow would take you somewhere far, but not far enough not to brag about it. The circle was almost a day drive so Steve would have bet Rumlow’s hiding place was somewhere between his own house and the hell house they called the Omega haven. But that was still too much land to cover just by foot or by car, since there were so many abandoned houses and warehouses, not even talking about all the hidden places deep in the forests. So, just going somewhere blindly was not an option. 

Then, he thought of using what was left of the functioning camera system between the city and his lands, trying to see if he could pinpoint at least the direction where Rumlow and his team went. But he came up with nothing since most of the cameras had been destroyed soon after the war had started. 

Steve even thought of taking some military dogs and making them sniff your clothes to find you, but that would mean hundreds of kilometres to search, and that was just impossible. Every single thing Steve came up with was a nonsense, and the longer he couldn’t figure out how to find you, the more desperate and angry he had become. His people knew it was nothing personal, but his yelling and blaming was sometimes too difficult to bear for any of them. Steve knew he was being a dick, and he apologised every time his nerves got the better of him, but it was like he couldn’t do anything about it. 

It was when Bucky spoke up with a guilty look that Steve finally got a good idea from somebody. Not that he particularly liked it, but it was something useful at last, and Steve was actually quite angry with himself for not thinking of it sooner. The idea was to call Peggy because she was always able to find Rumlow a little easier than the rest of the world. How that worked exactly Steve never asked, because Peggy was one of those who kept their work pretty shut, and she wouldn’t brag or even talk about it, so Steve had barely any idea of what Peggy really did. There used to be times when he minded when it drove him up the wall, but not anymore. He didn’t care how she did it, the only thing Steve needed was to get you back. 

He called her almost immediately, listening to her smooth voice as she assured him that she would devote a majority of her time to help him because, after all, she still cared for him very much. Steve thanked her from the bottom of his heart and resolved to wait for her to come back to him since there was literally nothing else to do for him but to wallow in his pain. 

Surprisingly, it only took a few hours for Peggy to reach out and tell Steve that she might have found him. His heart started beating like crazy as if feeling that he might be getting you in his arms sooner than he expected. Peggy told him that she got the memo that Rumlow was hiding in an old warehouse south of the manor, around 70 kms away, and Steve just growled, knowing he was kind of right in his assumptions. He quickly gathered his team, not really speaking much, but they all understood. This was a life or death mission because most of the team was sure Steve wouldn’t survive that if they didn’t find you. 

Steve pretty much jumped out of a moving car when they neared the building, and he got to work immediately, going into the commander mode, assigning roles and talking strategy for when they would come in contact with Rumlow’s team. Everything was meticulously planned, and Steve had a good feeling about that. The only issue was that he couldn’t smell you. But he simply thought that he was still far enough to be able to do that and that they were probably keeping you in some shutoff room.

The closer to the building they got, however, the weirder the whole situation felt. No men were standing outside on the lookout, there were no specific smells to tell the team that there were indeed people hiding inside, and when they finally got in, they found the place completely empty. 

They rummaged through all the rooms, even in the basement and on the roof, but the only thing they got was some cloth lightly smelling like Rumlow, but not enough to tell them how long ago he was at the warehouse. Steve screamed in frustration because there was no sign of you, not even a hint of your smell that he so helplessly craved. 

Bucky and Sam shared distressed looks before they each grabbed Steve from one side and brought him back to the car, hollering at the whole team that the mission was over and that they needed to come back home. Steve didn’t speak the entire ride back, just staring out of the window, thinking of all the times you two would take such rides to and from the city, always discussing new books or just sharing stories from your youths. Steve now found that he took these moments for granted. He enjoyed them, sure, but not enough. There was the nagging voice telling him that he should have done more, that he ought to have taken you with him to that fucking meeting, and none of this would have happened. 

“Stop it, punk. None of this is your fault so stop with the self-blaming and call Peggy to tell you what the fuck happened that her tip wasn’t true,” Bucky interjected Steve’s thoughts, and as many times before, Steve wondered whether Bucky could just read him like an open book or if he had a direct link to his brain. Steve shook his head and dialled the number. 

“So, happily ever after?” Peggy said smugly, and if she stood anywhere near Steve, he swore he would have hit her. 

“Nothing and nobody’s fucking happy, Peggy. Nobody was there except for some piece of cloth that was supposed to smell like Rumlow. Who the fuck gave you this tip? I need to find my Omega, and I don’t have the time to drive around the city and march into every single abandoned building just because you have a hunch. I need real information, Peggy, and if you can’t give that to me, then you’re just wasting my time,” Steve said more tiredly than anything else, but Peggy’s face contorted in annoyance on the other end of the line. 

“I never waste your time, Stevie, you remember that. Look, I thought the info was top-notch, but I’ll keep looking. How about I come to your place, and we can think of a plan together?” 

“Yeah, yeah whatever, it definitely can’t harm us. I’ll be expecting you,” Steve sighed and hung up, nodding at Sam who was watching him through the rearview mirror. 

“Peggy said she’d come and help from the mansion. I mean, I’d rather have the whole fucking team together looking for Y/N, but I can’t fly everyone here from god-knows-where, so anyone who wants to join in is welcomed.” 

Sam nodded but didn’t like it one bit. He understood that Steve was desperate, but Peggy was and had always been bad news, and Sam had a hard time trusting her even back in the days when they had to fight side to side. All the secrecy surrounding her just stank, and Sam was sure he’d keep an eye on her, just in case. He wanted everything to go over smoothly for Steve, and nobody needed a sneaky bitch who would throw them under a train the second she got a better deal from the opposing side. 

You let your hand slide on the ground underneath you. It was rough with what felt like small rocks that were cutting you in the palm. You were seated, and your whole body hurt since you have been in this position for hours. Nobody talked to you since they killed your friends and abducted you. They just blindfolded you and tied you up, changing positions every few hours probably to disorient you since you doubted anybody really cared how comfortable you were. All you could do was rely on your senses and learn as much about your surroundings as you could. You weren’t even sure why you cared, but your brain couldn’t take thinking about anything related to Steve, so you busied it by making sure you knew everything you could. 

You learned that there were three places they would keep you in. You presumed that they were all in one room, but they changed whether you were sitting or lying down. You weren’t even sure what time it was and slept when they put you laid you down. Nobody ever touched you inappropriately, and that’s how you assumed not one of those people was Rumlow. 

The first place they would let you sit in was in an old crinkly chair made of rough wood as you had a few splinters from rubbing your hands against the arm-holders. It had four metal legs, and from the sounds, it made every time you shifted, you thought it was a rather old and overused piece of furniture. 

The second place was where you were sitting now. It was by the wall, which was cold and smelt of moss, and you even though you sensed death a few times, you knew that was just your exhausted brain playing games with you. The ground was full of rocks and shards of glass, so it was your least favourite place to be of the three. The ground was colder than all the other areas, and every time they made you stand up, there was a wet patch where your ass touched the ground as the coldness accumulated against your hot body, making you wish you could just change. But your abductees would never answer to your pleas, so after what you assumed were a few days, you just gave up asking them altogether. 

The third place was a makeshift bed, created out of a few pieces of wood pushed together and an old and smelly mattress. You tried to ignore all that the smell evoked in you, but you sometimes choked on your own saliva as you shifted and changed position, getting another whiff of what smelt like a hundred of butts and sweat. But it was a mattress, and you could get a few hours of sleep, so you couldn’t dwell on the details. 

When you found out everything there was with your surroundings you tried to pay attention to your abductors. And while you couldn’t say precisely how many there were, you had a pretty good idea. As you were an Omega, blindfolded and cuffed, they always came alone, and you recognised each of the people by their steps. There were four of them, each of them having differences in their weight, the length of their steps and the carefulness with which they handled you. That’s how you came up with the number of four. 

Number two was by far your favourite. They (you assumed it was a he but you couldn’t be sure) would always leave you alone even when you needed to use the bathroom. You knew they were in the room, but they had the decency to at least not physically touch you, and, in your mind, you created this picture that the person even turned around to leave you to do your business. They would also give you the biggest amount of water, seeing how you were parched because number four was a complete asshole and would always allow only a gulp before he drastically took the cup away from your mouth. 

And that was your days, filled with diverting your brain from thinking about the graver questions, like where were you, would Steve ever find you, what did they want from you, etc. Every time any of those popped up in your head, you choked up, and had to start touching your surroundings or else you’d have gone insane by now. 

It was when number three was supposed to come and let you sleep that you heard it. It was faint, but your ears perked up at anything that wasn’t your own breath or the sound of boots of your abductors hitting the ground. And this was neither. These were human voices talking about something behind the door. Your heart-rate picked up immediately because, while you hated the routine of four guards and three positions, you also knew that routine was good. Anything that was out of the routine could possibly mean death to you, and you tried to do anything to avoid that. The voices grew nearer, and you shuddered involuntarily, bracing yourself. 

When the door opened, the cold air hit your face, and you hid it between your shoulder blades. 

“Well, well, well, here is the famous Omega the world is searching for. You look so pathetic, it’s actually quite funny,” you heard a female voice say, and your brows knitted together. You heard it before, you just couldn’t place the voice for the life of you. 

“Yeah, well, the sooner she stops pining for that pathetic excuse of an Alpha and becomes mine, she will look much better. I mean, not that anybody’s gonna see her since she is just an Omega pussy, but she is my Omega pussy, so,” the man trailed off, and you didn’t have to think to place this voice. This voice haunted your worst nightmares, so you were pretty familiar with it. 

Rumlow

“Whatever, Rumlow. All we need is to get rid of her mating mark, and we’ll be good. Steve called me and found the warehouse where I sent him empty, and I, as a devoted friend, told him I’d help him from the mansion so I’ll have easy access to him and I will divert him from here if need be. You just need to do what you must so that I can have him back,” the woman spat, and it was as if a light bulb switched on. God, you felt stupid for not suspecting she had her ugly fingers in this. Fucking Peggy who obviously wanted Steve back even when she visited him all those months ago. 

And while it was nice that Steve didn’t feel the same, this woman was clearly a maniac, and she wouldn’t stop at anything to get what she wanted. 

But, there was one more thing that caught your attention. They wanted to get rid of your mating mark, and the thought paralysed your whole body. There were only a few ways to do that to any mated couple, and none of them was humane or accepted by most people. You’ve heard of Omegas trying to sever their bonds as they didn’t like who chose them, and so they cut a clean line across their mark, but even then the bond couldn’t be severed completely. There was also the option of just biting an Omega hard enough where their mates’ mark was, and trying to beat mark with a mark. 

You also heard that true mates were inseparable, and while Bruce told you that you were true mates, you could never know for sure. The inseparableness of true mates could just as well be some old maid tales, it was one of the things your mother used to tell you, but you had no idea where the truth was. 

The only thing you did know was that however they wanted to do it, you would go through hell, both physically and mentally, and that there was a more than likely chance that you would die in the process. 

“You’re not afraid she’ll die on you?” Peggy asked more curious than concerned because, for her plan to work, your ties with Steve had to be cut. She would have preferred killing you since it was easier, quicker and with long-lasting results. But Rumlow had been obsessed with you ever since he lost the fight with Steve back at the Circle. When Peggy heard about it, she just scoffed and told him he was an idiot, because if he would have called her, she could have just snuck you out without anyone knowing and they wouldn’t have been in this mess. 

“I mean, there’s always the possibility, but I’m not letting her run around with his mark. I wouldn’t like pounding a pussy marked by somebody else. Besides, she’s stronger than she looks, isn’t it right, pussycat?” Rumlow asked, for the first time addressing you. But you knew better than to talk, so you just remained quiet, and from the low hum coming from his mouth, you assumed it was a good decision. 

“And what if that bullshit about true mates is real?” 

“Oh, please, not you too. Nothing like true mates exists, Peggy, I told you. Some just smell nicer to particular individuals than others, that’s it. I don’t even know why we’re losing time talking about this. Go and do whatever you want with Steve and his estate and I’ll just do what I want with this one,” Rumlow rumbled, and the next thing you heard was the clicking of high-heels against the hard floor, leaving you alone in the room with the devil. 

“Now, sweetheart, I think we should begin, hm?”

“Oh, Stevie, you don’t look good. Here, let me bring you to your bedroom so you can rest and the team and I will search for your mate in the meantime, hm?” Peggy suggested nicely, and Steve nodded, happy there was somebody who could possibly save you. But before she put her claws on his arm, Sam appeared out of nowhere and stopped her hand. She hissed like a cat and Sam gave her an are-you-fucking-kidding-me look. 

“I think it would be better if you stayed down here, Peggy, as you said, you are such a valuable asset to this team that I wouldn’t want to you to waste your time by going with Steve here. I will accompany him to his bedroom so that he can get some sleep, and, meanwhile, you can work with Bucky,” Sam smirked but didn’t wait for her response as he led Steve towards the staircase and up to his bedroom. There was no fucking way in hell Sam would let Peggy be with Steve alone. And since he shared his worries with Bucky, there were two of them looking out for their best friend, which left Peggy in a tough position. 

She watched Sam and Steve leave the room, and Bucky would laugh hadn’t it been such a delicate situation, because Peggy really looked like the Goddess of Revenge. That just further proved Sam’s theory about Peggy being fishy, to say the least, and Bucky was starting to question whether she didn’t have something to do with your disappearance. 

Peggy saw right through them, and she smirked to herself. If they wanted to play games with her, so be it. She would get Steve alone and inject the serum in him she had been making for so long, and they would finally live happily ever after. Just like they were supposed to. All she needed was to stay close to Steve for a couple of days, get him alone enough times, and he would be all hers. 

/ Next Chapter > 

Tags will be in reblogs xx

[openforjean]

bunny 🐰💗

bucky barnes x fem!reader (this fic is dark)

warnings: +18 only, manipulation, stalking, teasing, praise, mentions of sex, mentions of male masturbation, language & angst 

a/n: pls reblog with your thoughts!!! feedback is appreciated!!!!

I’m being watched. 

Someone is watching me. 

Right now. 

“Are you dating Bucky?” Peter whispers. 

Shit, okay, it's just Peter.

What? What makes you think that? I look at him, he’s coming closer to me with his rolling chair. “No. Why?” I ask. Peter looks around, and finally looks back at you. “He’s always talking about you, I hear him say your name a lot to Steve. I was just curious,” he says. 

Where do you start with Bucky? He’s just a friend... but there’s more than friendship, now that I think about it. For goodness sake, I slept with him. Okay. So, not really friends. 

“You want to fuck me?” I ask, gulping. Being under him is so overwhelming. His body is so big, and his scent is prominent. It’s like he planned for this to happen. Well, why else did he come to the club with me? 

“Yes,” he breathlessly says. Your lips connect to his. His tongue dives into your mouth as he looks for an empty bathroom stall, he spots one and carries me to it. He sits me down on the sink, continuing to kiss me. His fingers toy with my dress, raising it up. He picks me up again and places me on my feet, facing the mirror. 

I face the mirror, as Bucky pulls his pants down behind me. 

“Do you still want this bunny?” He asks. “I do,” I responded. 

“Good little bunny, your pussy is so wet. Don’t tell me a kiss did all that?” Bucky says, running his fingers along my core. 

Oh yeah, bunny. Why did he call me that? I didn’t hate it, I just wasn’t expecting that. He usually just calls me by my first name at work. I wonder what he told Steve. Does he really like me? 

“Does anyone else know?” I ask Peter. “No, he only talks to Steve. But, from the looks of it. He probably is interested in you Y/n,” he finishes. 

Peter is right. Right? Why else would he call me bunny? 

He loves me. Bucky loves me. Bucky loves me. He loves me. 

Days went on smoothly, knowing Bucky has feelings for me. 

“Hey, Steve. Do you think we should stay in or go out tonight?” Bucky asks Steve. Steve spins in his office chair, “I don’t know, when was the last time you went out?” Steve asks. 

“Three months ago.” 

“Good God, you need to get out. Why haven’t you gone out?” Steve says. 

Bucky hasn’t been out since that night in the bathroom. For some reason, he just didn’t go back. You’ve been on his mind since, to be honest. That’s probably why he didn’t go back. 

“I haven’t been able to get Y/n off my mind. It’s insane,” Bucky admits. 

“You need to talk to her today. Tell her how you feel, don’t be scared of her Buck.”

I’m not scared of Y/n. 

My hand is getting cramped up from all this writing. I should take a break and search for some cute outfits for Easter. 

Bucky is coming. Behind you. Act normal. 

“Hey, can we talk?” Bucky asks. He looks nervous, is this what I think it is? Is he going to confess? 

I follow him to the break room, he sits down and I do the same. He looks at me and gives me a nervous smile. My heart starts to race. 

“Listen, since that night I haven’t been able to get you off my mind. I need to tell you that, okay,” he says. “You’re driving me crazy, please stop. Leave me the hell alone, I regret sleeping with you. If I could take back the night I would,” Bucky says. He’s angry. With me. 

His bunny. 

Bucky stands up and leaves. 

There is no way he means that. 

9 pm - Bucky’s apartment 

Bucky stares down at the shower drain, watching the water swirl. His head is drowning in thoughts about you. Was he too harsh? No, he wasn’t. You were basically stalking him, at work and his home. He swears he saw you in public a couple of times. He can’t believe he actually liked you. 

Bucky exited the shower and got ready to go out with Steve. He said something about going to a strip club, not really sure. He’ll like whatever keeps him distracted. 

He’s now headed to the subway to meet Steve. Bucky is dressed in black. He’s wearing a leather jacket, black skinny jeans, with his hair loose behind his ears. He boards the train car. It’s empty, which is a bit strange. He sits down next to the doors and gets lost in his phone. The lights flicker, but it’s nothing out of the ordinary. He sets his phone down next to him, and Bucky just lays back. He’s beginning to feel relaxed for once. 

Next stop approaching. 

“Only one more stop Steve, just wait,” he says to himself. Bucky’s phone begins to ring and he quickly picks it up, assuming it’s Steve. “Hey Ste-” 

“This isn’t Steve.” 

Not you. 

“What you said earlier was really hurtful. You should apologize to your girlfriend.” 

“You’re not my girlfriend,” Bucky says. Bucky looks out the train windows, and sees something bright pink, standing alone and still as the train moves. It looks like a reflection from something behind him. But he knows it isn’t real, it can’t be. The train slowly comes to a stop. 

“I am. You love me. Please, you love me. I’m yours and you’re mine, Bucky.” 

You’re there. Waiting to come on the train. 

You smile at him, through the window. He stands up, holding onto the bar above. His face has fear written all over it. You enter, wearing a short pink dress, with bunny ears and a tail. 

Bunny. 

“Do you like it?” You ask. Bucky gulps. He can’t function. “I can tell you do, you don’t need to answer,” you tease. You take his shoulders and sit him down, you lean over him. “I’ve seen you, Bucky. I saw you jerk off to my pictures, I’m not mad about it. I like it. Because I love you, you’re my world. I know you love me too, just accept it. You’re fucking crazy about me. I am all you think about, I am your favorite bunny, right?” Bucky’s lips part. “Why are you doing this? Why won’t you escape my mind?” He screams. 

“Believe it or not. I’m everywhere, Bucky. I’m in your head, your dreams, and your heart. I’m also around you,” you say. “You think there’s only one of me? I can make ten more.” Duplicates of you start to appear from behind you, surrounding him. 

“Say you love me.”

I am scared of Y/n.

note: pls this story is purely for entertainment purposes, dont take it too seriously. thank you. also sorry if its so choppy and fast. its supposed to be really fast and short.

[spiltscribbles]

Worth It

~Notes: Oof, I know I have so many prompts in my inbox and I appreciate them so much! But I wanted to write something after dinner in dedication and a gift to the lovely Remus-John-Lupin!!!!!!!<3<3<3 I love you RJ and I appreciate you and your friendship so fucking much, so this is just a strange little gift from me to you in thanks for how kind you’ve always been to me since I joined this crazy fandom, ILY and you’re my favorite slag!!!!

.-

Sirius silently reminds himself that he in fact likes Lily, he thinks she’s a total knock out and is happy that his brother is finally getting to date the girl of his dreams. He likes her damn it,! And one does not commit battery to folks that they like.

Assured that his pure irritation won’t bleed through his words, Sirius tries again in his most charming of inflections. “All I want is his number.”

“No,” she repeats, casually steadfast while poking at her salad— Not even bothering to flick her gaze up at an increasingly irate Sirius.

“Why are you being so fucking difficult!”

“Why are you still bitching about this,” she counters, finally giving him her undivided attention, even if it’s her glaring at him like she’d like to skewer Sirius on a stick.

“Hey guys, let’s chill.” James tries to mediate, laughing awkwardly between the pair of them, hand raised in concession and glasses going a bit skewed.

They promptly ignore him.

“I like him. What is so difficult to understand Evans? Aren’t you like supposed to be some brainiac or some shit?”

“It’s been like two months Black,” she says pointedly, grip on her fork tightening while her mouth curls unpleasantly. “That’s way past your ordinary infatuations, so why the hell do you still even care.”

Sirius bares his teeth, pinning her with a glower that once made an old school yard bully of Regulus’s actually piss his pants. So of course Lily doesn’t even flinch. “He’s cute.”

“You’re a dog.”

“You’re being a total ass.”

“And you’re a bastard.”

“But you love me though.”

“Just barely.”

“So you’ll give me Remus’s number?”

“Dream on.” she says with a lofty sniff and haughty flip of the hair, discarding her barely eaten lunch before swaggering over to where a group of her friends from the STEM club are sat, including Alice Flores and Dorcas Meadowes. 

“Guess you’re back to square one Pads.” James says, unhelpful as fuck, so Sirius only flips him off before snatching back his calculus homework from a pitiful looking Peter.

“Fuck this.”

.-

Sirius thinks of himself as a reasonable sort of guy.

He isn’t one for holding grudges or obsessing over perceived slights. He’s brilliant whether he’s playing linebacker on the field or taking a exam in class.

For fuck’s sake, Sirius  can be plumped down in any and all social situations without warning, and can have the room eating out the palm of his hand within the first five minutes.

In layman’s terms, he’s decent and driven and downright charismatic. Mix this all together, and well Sirius thinks he’s a pretty fantastic fucking package— if he does say so himself. He can have his pick of the lot, truly. Especially when walking down the halls flocked by his best friend turned second brother on one end and little Petey, who’s a great hype man, on the other. So its only poetic justice that the one person who’s been able to swallow up all his attention is the one person who doesn’t even give him a second glance most days.

And that’s fucking ridiculous.

This is ridiculous! He is fucking ridiculous! No, record scratch. Remus fucking Lupin is the most ridiculous part of this all!

Remus lupin with his delightfully disheveled hair the color of gold and his crooked grin that’s everything darling in the world, and his big doe eyes that sometimes flare with green specs when he’s especially passionate in class or when he’s chatting with Lily in the halls. Remus lupin who’s only just moved here to Murray Hill from a small town in southern Illinois and who toppled Sirius’s world upside-down while he was at it. 

The first time they met was completely on accident.

It was the week before classes began, and Sirius had only just come back from his family trip to their villa in Rome, and he was only meant to meet James at the coffee shop that Lily was working at now. They were suppose to head to the city and go out drinking to celebrate the start of their senior year.  Sirius was suppose to find a nice, college aged girl to fuck because he’s given up on the boring lot that infests Hogwarts these days. It was suppose to be easy and fun and he was suppose to stay stringless and unattached as ever.

But that didn’t happen.

Instead, Sirius walked into the Howling Moon  and was met by the sight of the most lovely, most gorgeous boy he’s ever met. Hand to God, it felt like one of those slow motion moments in a Romantic Comedy when the disgruntled, wayward lead first sets their eyes on that love interest— the one to out shine all others, the one  who turns everything inside out and makes it all glitter gold.

“Hey there,” Remus had grinned like the fucking sun, slipping the pen from his ear and hand poised over the cups lining the counter. “What can I get ya?”

“Oh, erm— Yeah. Just a caramel macchiato, iced.”Sirius’s ordinarily smooth baritone almost fucking cracked while ordering, and Remus’s beautiful eyes had glittered.

“Would’ve taken you for a dark roast sort of guy.” He said, and Sirius swears that it was playful and flirtatious and a little mischievous too. 

Sirius was in love.

“I’ve been known to partake in sweets, you know, if they catch my eye,” he replied, eyes lingering meaningfully up and down Remus’s slighter frame.

“What a come on,” Remus had laughed, head thrown back to show off his long neck and Sirius was so fucking gobsmacked at how it quite literally sounded like all the most splendid instruments woven together.

He had ducked his head, so unordinary bashful but so beyond pleased. “What can I say beautiful, you bring it out of me.”

“”Cute.” Remus had chuckled, cheeks going a fetching red and scribbling down the order. “Definitely one of the more interesting one liners I’ve gotten today.”

Sirius ignored the flare of jealousy over that, considering that he hasn’t gotten to even kiss him yet, and he should probably take this slow if he doesn’t want to screw it up. “Has anyone of those bastards mentioned how your eyes put the brownies on sale to shame?”

“No one as hot as you if I’m being honest,” Remus retorted, ringing him up and sinking his teeth into his plump bottom lip. And fuck, Sirius knew he was in trouble from then on.

They had talked for over half an hour about nothing at all in that tiny bistro while Remus was busy exchanging the coffee pots for a fresh batch and rearranging the baked goods, and it was amazing.

 Sirius has always been someone who couldn’t sit still, who had to be fluttering all over the place to feel like he was actually headed somewhere, like he was getting something finished. But for the first time in too long, just sitting there, still and silent and besotted while Remus chatted about his hometown and moving half way across the country and his eccentric mother— Well Sirius felt completely balanced, completely calm. He felt like just as long as Remus was their chatting with him and smiling in that beguiling way of his, that Sirius could actually breathe without pressure. Like he knew what it meant to have a center.

So of course, right when he decided that he was going to snatch him up— to ask him out on a date before anyone else from their shitty class filled with degenerates and dick heads could— Lily of all people  had swaggered in, and gave him a caustic sort of glower that plainly said, keep the fuck away.

Ordinarily Sirius would’ve completely ignored her warning, would’ve unashamedly and excitedly chased after the cutest fucking boy he’s ever laid his eyes on with an absurd sort of zeal. But he under estimated just how much sway Lily was able to cater with Remus in the few weeks they worked with one another before he had met him. So instead of starting off the year with a brand new, insanely pretty boyfriend wrapped around one arm, Sirius has just spent the past nine weeks pining like a fucking love sick loser. Like he was starring in some cheesy John Hughes movie from the damn 80s!

And this will not do, this is not all right, not okay at all.

Sirius needs to figure out a way to get close to Remus, and outside of Lily’s overbearing claws. Something that only Remus likes, that Sirius can partake in to prove himself worthy.

As he promenades down the hall towards his free period, Sirius creates a mental check list of the things he knows Remus enjoys.

Remus enjoys poetry, and Sirius knows that he’s part of the school’s award winning Forensics team. But they meet during the football practices so Sirius couldn’t even try to impress him in that arena until the spring. He also knows that Remus likes history, that he’s going to end up majoring in classics in University, but Sirius really doubts his ability to memorize the Iliad in the matter of a few hours— He’s good, but not that good.

“Jesus fuck is this hard,” he mutters nastily to himself, tugging at the ends of his dark hair before ramming straight into a display outside the southern wing of their preparatory school’s building.

He winces, not so much for the throbbing in his toes, but because of Marlene’s snappish attitude when he makes it so that the table shakes.

“Keep your head out your ass Black,” she scolds before going back to filing her nails. And Sirius is about to snipe right back at her— That is until he catches on the bright poster adorned with small rainbows and the words, GSA FOOD DRIVE spelt out in large lettering.

And oh!

“Eureka!”

“Pardon?” Marlene asks, nose wrinkled indelicately as she eyes him like he’s about to puke on her brand new Doc Martens again like last weekend. Holy shit, she should really get over it by now.

But Sirius is smart enough and tactful enough not to mention his thoughts on the matter, only smiles down at her with pure elation. “Marls, what if I said I had a brilliant idea to help our lovely GSA.”

“I’d accuse you to only doing it to try and get in Lupin’s pants since he’s our new VP.”

Sirius grapples for his chest, feigning indignant. “You pain me my old friend.”

Marlene snorts. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

“That’s neither here nor there.”

“So are your chances with Lupin.”

“You’re a sick fuck McKinnon.”

“What do you want from me you gnat.”

“Let me help with the fundraiser.”

“What’s in it for me?”

“I’ll tell Lily to get Meadowes to notice you?”

Marlene glares at him now. “We’ve been fucking for like a month you prick.”

“Oh— Erm, then for some of that good old Bi unity?”

Marlene suddenly looks so very shrewd and Sirius hates how every fucking woman in his life could eat him whole for breakfast. “Absolutely not.”

“Fine, what the fuck do you want.”

“You cover Fabian’s costs for the goods  when we go to that rave for 2KBABY in January.”

“Eh, didn’t you guys use to fuck?”

“Yes. But I don’t see the connection?”

“He won’t even give you a discount on the good shit?”

“Oh he does,” she leers, blue eyes glinting wickedly in the hallway light. “But I’d rather see you pay full price for’m.”

Sirius glares down at her, and repeats himself.  “You. Are. A. Sick. Fuck.”

Marlene just lies back in her seat and returns to manicuring her nails. “Well if cheekbones isn’t worth the bother?”

“Fine,” Sirius all but growls out. “But we do this my way.”

“Scout’s honor handsome,” she absolutely beams, and Sirius reminds himself that this is all for Remus and that’s worth it at the end of the day.

.-

It’s a week later, right before Thanksgiving break hits, and Sirius is sat in front of the cafeteria, smirking at the line of mostly pink faced girls and a few others amongst their midst, who have all queued up in front of him. A dollar in each of their hands, though he does see that a few have fives and even tens or more, and he doesn’t know how to subtly tell them that all he’s promising is a quick peck of his lips, and absolutely no other groping— including of his legendary ass or admittedly perfect abs.

“You’re just really enjoying yourself, aren’t you.” James hisses besides him after the latest girl— a blonde sophomore who’s decked out in Lulu Lemon for their only non uniform day of the week— scurries off. “Just a ego trip.”

“Jealous Jamie darling?” Sirius boasts, tipping back on his chair while Marlene collects the cash from the next five in line so that they can clammer closer towards him.

“I can’t believe all of them want to kiss you,” Peter marvels, round eyes completely in aw. 

“I can’t believe you think this is how to get Remus’s attention,” Lily interjects huffily, lips set in a moody pout while perched on James’s lap to Sirius’s left.

“I bet you would’ve been in line if you weren’t dating Jamie here.” Sirius counters, smug as all get out, and laughing when all Lily deigns as a adequate response is her middle finger.

Sirius is on cloud nine. He can’t believe he didn’t think of this sooner! Remus loves all this shit, from the club to the charity. This is perfect! This basically guarantees that he’ll finally get a good smooch on him. And once their lips finally  touch, Remus will surely feel the swarm of butterflies in his gut just like in those Harleyquin romance novels his cousin Narcissa would always read with a dreamy look on her face during their various Family vacations.

“You’re not gonna get him this way.”

“He’s not gonna know what hit’m Evans,” Sirius retorts, completely self assured.

.-

One should never bet against Lily Marie Evans.

Sirius knows this now. But he still hates it with the passion of a thousand burning suns.

By the end of the lunch hour, Sirius’s earned over sixty bucks to the GSA’s fundraiser fund, and absolutely zero potential boyfriends who look like golden angels and make Sirius’s knees weak.

“I told you,” Lily says in that sing-song sort of voice that is so not appreciated right now. “Remus is not the type to kiss you in front of a huge crowd and after like a bunch of others. That’s not his style.”

Sirius is moody as all get out, and he’s irritated that he’s just wasted five dozen perfectly fine kisses on folks who aren’t Remus, so he doesn’t bother to hide his irritation when he gripes back at her, “Then tell me what the fuck is his style.”

Miraculously, that actually proved enough to get Lily to slow down her stroll, and cock her head curiously at him. “You actually care.”

“What the fuck have I been trying to tell you Evans!” He nearly shouts.

“I just thought— You know. That it was a game.”

Sirius’s face goes stoney, and he juts his chin away from her. “It’s not always a fucking game, all right. It’s not a game with him— I like him. I like Remus.”

“Oh,” Lily says very quietly, her face pulled in a thousand different directions before settling on something akin to solemn. “You should go to the music room for your free period today.”

Sirius quirks a brow at her, frowning while he asks, “Why?”

“Just trust me S,” she says, reaching over her hand to squeeze his forearm.

Sirius watches her walk off, hand in hand with James, and he feels a strange twisting to his heart when he imagines a very similar image— only with him and Remus and punctuated by plenty of kisses to the cheek, and jawline and lips too.

.-

The music room is towards the back of the school, in a separate building along with the theatre and main auditorium.

The early autumnal chill lashes against Sirius’s face while he makes the track to the room, continuously chanting to himself that he actually trusts Lily and this is gonna be worth it if there’s a merciful God up there.

Once Sirius clammers in doors, he rubs his cold hands together, and shakes out his hair. 

The first thing he hears is the soft strumming of a guitar, and finds himself in front of the music room after following its melodic toon. 

Through the window he can spot the form of Remus bent over the instrument, his thick curls getting in his eyes and his steady hands plucking a few chords as he sits cross legged atop the piano.

Sirius feels his heart lodging in his throat at the sight of him, so beautiful and perfect and warm looking in that scarlet sweater. And he knows in his bones that this is some sort of unspoken blessing that Lily’s given him, so with a deep breath, Sirius opens the door and strolls in.

Remus starts slightly, going flushed once his eyes catch on Sirius’s own.

“Oh Sirius,” he greets, the corners of his mouth tipping into a smile that doesn’t ring true. “You pulled away from the haram?”

“That’s a bit much? Calling them a haram,” Sirius says cooly, hitching up besides him and swinging his long legs. “I just did it to help you.”

“Oh— Yeah,” Remus nods. “The GSA appreciates all the help we can get.”  His words are quiet, and he’s rinsing a hand through his curls, so Sirius can tell that he’s a bit nervous. And it’s impossibly cute, but also not on. He doubts that he’ll ever get his kiss if Remus won’t even look at him in the eyes.

Gingerly, Sirius sets the pad of his pointer finger beneath Remus’s chin, lifting his gaze upwards. “Not the GSA— Though I appreciate the club’s work and your part in that.”

“Oh,” Remus says again, lips pursed and his throat pulsing when he swallows down. “Then—“

“I did it for you Remus,” Sirius repeats heatedly. “I did it because I’ve been mad for you since ever meeting you in August, and I can’t get your fucking face or name or lips or ass out of my head. And I thought that if maybe I pulled a dumb stunt like that, you would actually kiss me along with the lot of those idiots who can’t even hold a candle to you.”

“M—My ass?” Remus questions, voice going pitchy and face bright with emotion. 

Sirius laughs, booming and bombastic. “You have the best ass I’ve ever seen Remus Lupin and it’s really obscene.”

Remus shoulder checks him, looking down and then back up through his lashes at Sirius and it’s a sight Sirius wish he can keep with him for the rest of his days.

“So you thought I’d want our first kiss to happen after you’ve just made out with half the school?” 

Sirius grimaces, bending down so that their lips are only inches apart. “Listen, I can be a complete dumb ass on occasion.”

“Don’t forget arrogant.”

“Okay, fair.”

“And brash too.”

“Right.”

“Also you tend—“

Sirius places a soft hand over Remus’s supple lips, glaring teasingly at the other boy, who’s grinning like the cat who’s caught the canary, his eyes teeming with laughter. 

Remus Lupin is going to be the death of  him, Sirius knows it.

“Listen Lupin, I’d like a shred of self respect here, so I can actually muster up the courage to ask you out on a proper date already.”

Remus perks at that, so Sirius moves his grasp.

 “You wanna ask me out?”

“Depends…. You wanna continue that little rant until I’m blue balled and  gutless.”

“Hmm,” Remus inches closer, setting his hand over Sirius’s on the piano. “Nah, I think I’d rather do this.”

He leans forwards and Sirius barely has enough time to gather his bearings when he feels Remus’s mouth over his own and it’s literally every starlit promise and sugar burnt secret and sunlit afternoon all rolled into one. And Sirius feels his heart thud an uneven staccato when he grabs for either end of Remus’s waistline and plunges his tongue into his own and he lets himself get lost in the overwhelming feeling of it all.

[the-young-and-forgotten]

Gingerbread and Mistletoe

Ficmas Gingerbread House - @wonderful-writer 

Warning/s: tw food mention, tw swearing

prompts: 

4) “Will you make a gingerbread house with me?”

25) “You’re already under the mistletoe, so will the two of you stop stalling and kiss already?”

Prompts will be in bold

It was a couple of weeks into the Christmas break. Your friends had all gone home for the holidays. You had nothing to do but look out at the raging blizzard happening outside now that you were stuck like a schmuck at Hogwarts. You had absolutely no one to hangout with. Or so you thought. 

Of course, Sirius had to be annoying you every second of the day, not that you minded all that much. The two of you had known each other before you had moved to Hogwarts and he had taken it upon himself to annoy you with every step within this castle. 

You had met him a couple of years ago while he was on vacation in America. He and his family had been visiting your state and you might have run him over in the street with your bike. After rushing him to a doctor, you also might have developed a slight crush on him (I mean who wouldn’t crash their bike after seeing him?). You were only too happy to bump into him again the next day to hear that he wanted to “hang out with the girl brave enough to make his proud family introduce themselves to a muggle doctor.” He introduced himself as Prince Sirius Black, succumbed to a life of misery and riches. You had discovered that while you went to Ilvermorny, he went to the highly praised school of Hogwarts Witchcraft and Wizardry. 

Then, about 3 months ago due to some issues, you and your family were driven out of America to England. It took much persuasion, but your parents finally let you enrol in Hogwarts. Which brought you to the present. 

You were glad to see Sirius again… sort of… You had a fair idea of how annoying he could be but his constant presence and prying questions was driving you insane. You had wondered how his friends coped with it. But after a day of observing, you included they were all equally insane as him. Well, the exception being the scarred boy. He just looked like an exhausted mother on her last cup of coffee. 

Unfortunately, the school transfer did bring back that old crush you were sure you had got rid of. Obviously you hadn’t quite squashed those feelings enough. The only one in this school who knew about your crush on Sirius was James and you had sworn him to secrecy. He knew if he told anyone or did anything to push it along, he’d be instantly dead. 

But, no matter how insane Sirius seemed you could deal with it. After all, this wasn’t the first time. But one thing you couldn’t handle was the throngs of girls that nipped at his heels and hung onto his every word. You knew he was good-looking, but did he deserve his own cult? The girls aggravated you so much, making you wish violent thoughts on them and causing a pang of jealousy in your heart. 

A few days with those fangirls was okay, but when you found out this happened everyday, you could now understand Remus’ constant look of aggravation and the quiet sighs from Peter and James when this happened. 

But today was worse than usual, due to the quidditch game he’d won a couple of days ago, girls were swarming him. You snuck away to the library, before the jealousy caused you to act rashly. You hid amongst the Divination books, hoping he and his herd of girls wouldn’t find you.

But to no avail. “What a boring section to hide in, love.” A cocky voice called out. Sirius walked out between two stacks of books a wide smirk on his face. “But then again, you and I had never seen eye to eye on everything.” He picked up a book with an eye on it and tapped it, his smirk somehow stretching wider. 

You cross your arms in mock anger but you couldn’t help smirking at his pun and seeing that he didn’t have any desperate girls tagging along. “That pun was lame and you know it. Plus, no one likes Divination so I figured this would be the best place to hide.” He plonked himself down on the boxes beside you. His smile stretched even farther, irritating you slightly. 

“Pretty obvious spot though. People would expect you to hide here. If I were to hide, I would go to the Transfiguration section, it's a painfully obvious spot, but no one expects it. So you failed.” “It didn’t fail if it means there were no brain-dead bimbos following you here.” You snap at him.  “Ahhh, so you wanted to be alone with me.” He leant in close, making your face light up like a lava lamp. 

You turn away and stand up, trying to distract yourself. “C’mon, Y/n. Is it that hard to believe I just want to do something fun with my friend! We have a lot of options! Afterall, it's Christmas time!! We could go sledding, sneak out to Hogsmeade or we could-” His eyes light up. “Will you make a gingerbread house with me?” you turn to stare at him in disbelief and scoff. “A gingerbread house?!” He nods his head comically “Sirius, you haven’t even touched any baking ingredients, how will you know what to do?” 

He picks himself off the boxes and grabs your arm. He pulls you out of the library and towards the kitchens. “It’s called an adventure Y/n, search up the definition.” “I’ve done enough crazy shit with you to know what an adventure is.” You grumble under your breath. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The two of you stood at a counter in the kitchen, the decorations and gingerbread house pieces spread out around you. “Right… so what's next?” Sirius asks, the confusion prominent in his voice. You pull all the pieces towards you and start filling him in on what's happening “Luckily, the house elves were nice enough to get us the muggle pieces which are already pre-made, so we just have to decorate it.” 

Hearing no response, you turn towards him, question on your lips. You stop short and stare at him. He was leaning on the counter and staring off into space. Doing nothing but continuously eating the bowl of lollies in front of him. You slap his hand away, startling him. “Those are for the house! Not you!” He lowered his head looking awfully sheepish. You relented. “Okay, maybe a few.” You wink at him and pop a few into your mouth. 

“Right!” Clapping your hands together you turn back to the gingerbread house pieces. “Let's get into it!!” 

Long story short, It was messy work. The sides fell down about a dozen times,causing a lot of anger. The two of you alternating between eating the lollies and putting them on the house. Luckily for the two of you, the house elves had endless amounts of sweets so you never ran out. 

Adding the icing with Sirius was extremely aggravating for you. He couldn’t seem to get the hang of the piper and was putting it everywhere. But he kept on persisting that he could do it. After he had covered practically the entire bench with the icing you snatched it off him. “Oh, just give it here you incompetent pureblood.” It took a bit of time, but you finally finished decorating and icing the whole thing. 

When it was finished, you were positively bursting at how great the gingerbread house had turned out. Reaching over you, Sirius picked up the tray and started out of the kitchens. Turning back, he smiled at you. “Lets go share this with the boys, I know they’ll want a bite.” 

“Wait up!” You run after him, trying to grab the tray from him, but he just pushed ahead faster and faster. “Slow down!” you shout desperately trying to catch him, weaving between random students. “Why do you have to be so goddamn fast?” You said, with a slight whiny tone. But he just laughed and ran on. 

When you guys finally arrived at the Gryffindor Tower, you were panting for breath. Several people had been pushed over along your run. You had certainly made your presence known in the hallways. Taking a deep breath, you walk up to Sirius who was standing a little way away. “Can I hold the house now?” You whine. He rolls his eyes at your tone of voice but hands it over to you. 

He turns towards the Fat Lady and gives the password. As it swings open, he holds it open long enough for you to walk through. You stumble on the threshold but Sirius catches you before you or the house falls. You blush furiously as he helps you right yourself. The two of you look away from each other, the air now extremely awkward. 

You hear an ‘ahem’ from the corner of the common room and look up to see the rest of the arauders there. Peter had a sly grin on his face, Remus was giggling and James looked extremely aggravated. You knew straight away that knew where you had been. James stared you down before throwing his hands up in exasperation. “You’re already under the mistletoe, so will the two of you stop stalling and kiss already?” Gaping in shock, you look up and see he’s right. You hear Sirius groan and bury his face in his hands as you glare back at James. ‘You’re dead’ you mouth. He just smirks and points to the mistletoe. “Get on it” he shouts. 

You reluctantly look back at Sirius. Much like you, he was a blushing mess. You had never seen him look this hesitant about anything. He seemed to weigh something in his mind before leaning toward you. 

Due to the huge gingerbread house in your arms he had to awkwardly lean over it, which made the situation 100% more weird. Hesitantly, he placed his lips on yours. 

The kiss was sweet and short but it might as well have lasted a lifetime. He gasps in shock, and you knew he had felt the same thing as you had. The two of you pull away giggling, blushing more than before. 

You hear the shouts of joy from the boys and you remember James’ betrayal. “Wait here, Sirius. I need to kill your best friend.” You transport the gingerbread house to Sirius’ arms and run towards James, the boy's laughter echoing in your ears.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

taglist: @just-a-belgian-girl @loonyvee @kashishwrites @lilgoddesshines

[kaiparker-avengerssmut]

Our Doll 6// Not Happy About It

B.Barnes x S.Rogers, B.Barnes x Stark!Reader, S.Rogers x Stark!Reader

Series Synopsis | After the events of the horrific past, y/n Stark, Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes have finally admitted their feelings for each other. But is life as an avenger whilst dating two super soldiers any easier than anything y/n’s experienced in the past?

sequel Series to Their Doll

Series Warnings | smut, violence, torture, swearing, threesomes, drug usage/substance abuse

Chapter Summary | steve and y/n argue. Bucky and y/n fuck.

Warnings | smut, vaginal sex, oral (f recieving), fingering, kissing, Bucky in a towel, Steve being a bit of an asshole

A/n | This is a sequel book/series to my fic Their Doll! This book loosely follows the mcu timeline, starting in CAWS in book one and starting just before AOU in this book. Bucky had been recovered and is safe, and Peter was taken under Tony's wing when he was much younger.

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Shaken, dazed and scared. The mood in the quinjet was far from jovial or triumphant as it glided across the clouds, Clint taking the controls as Bucky comforted me. Steve stood starting out the front window, hands on his slim hips and a scowl settled over his face.

"Somewhere safe." I caught the end of Clint and my dad's conversation, but my attention was captured along with Bucky's when Steve cleared his throat.

"We need to make another stop first." Steve cut in, captain America voice heavily put on.

"And where would that be, Cap?" Tony sassed, spinning to face the super soldier. Steve glanced over to me before looking back to Tony, a sigh on his lips.

"To take y/n someplace safe. Maria said she has a job y/n could help with, out of harm's way." Steve explained.

"What? No! I'm fighting with you guys!" I protesting quickly, lurching out of Bucky's embrace as the brown-haired super soldier tried to grab after me.

"The hell you are." Steve said authoritatively, blonde brows pulling together. "Do I need to even explain why with what just happened?" Steve asked rhetorically, taking a hand off his hip to gesture towards the direction of where we had taken off from.

"So I'm just some baby, now? Come on, Steve! I'm not the only one that was affected, so if you're going to use that as your argument half the bloody team should be bunked off!" I retaliated, looking to Bucky for back up. But my super soldier simply gave me a pitiful smile before shrugging.

"I'm sorry, doll. We just want you to be safe." Bucky said softly. Steve sighed, putting his hands on my shoulders as pulling me into his firm chest. His nose was buried in my hair, and he took the time to take in my scent.

"Do this for me, sweetheart. For us. Just listen to me for once." Steve pleaded, eyes falling shut as he fought the urge to cry. I let out a huff, finally letting my arms wrap around Steve's waist as I leant my head on his chest.

"Okay." I mumbled into his suit, a small smirk playing on my lips despite my defeated tone.

"Thank you, doll." Steve mourned into my hair, placing a loving kiss there before pulling away. I hid my smug expression, knowing full-well I'd be there for that fight.

...

"Y/n?" Steve called, a frown heavy on his brows and question in his tone. "What are you doing here?" He continued as y/n got closer, stopping a few feet away from her boyfriend. "You're supposed to be with agent Hill, safe." He hissed through gritted teeth, letting the axe in his hands fall down harshly, splitting through the block of wood effortlessly before tossing the tool aside.

"I'm trying to figure out why to still treat me like a...like a baby, Steve! I'm here to help!" Y/n exclaimed, a scowl on her face as she sighed exhaustedly. Steve shook his head, hands on his hips.

"It's too dangerous, y/n. And you're going to get hurt." Steve declared, tone unwavering. The girl rolled her eyes in a huff, her arms folding over her chest. "We've discussed this, we've talked about it."

"We didn't discuss anything, Steve! You decided! And as if I can't fight my own battles? Come on, Steve!" Steve exhaled deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose as he turned away for a moment. Y/n opened her mouth to speak again, but he beat her to it.

"And what if Ultron hurts you, y/n? Huh? Or worse, what if he kills you?" Steve demurred, voice breaking, and she shut my mouth, stunned into a momentary silence. "What then?" His voice was quieter now, broken.

"You know you need me, Steve." Y/n testified, frustration lacing her tone icily.

"We're supposed to fight so we can go home. So I can come home to you." Steve reminded, voice raising as he took a few strides towards y/n - closing the gap between their bodies.

"When are you going to stop being so- so old fashioned?!" She insisted, breathing heavy as it mingled with his as Steve stood barely a few inches away from her. His hard gaze stared down on y/n, blue eyes clouded with an angered concern. "It's my life, Steve! It's my choice what I do with it, and I want to fight!" Y/n lamented, eyes downcast as she muttered the last of her words, "and do you know why I want to fight, Steve?"

"And why's that, doll?" Steve spat, voice unforgiving and hard. Y/n looked back up at steve through her lashes again, a tear pricking at her eye.

"Because I'm terrified that if I let you go, and I'm not there to- to save you, you won't come home to me." Y/n sobbed, voice crackling with the remnants of her injury but urged on by the girl's sadness. Steve let out a long sigh through his nose, eyes falling shut with guilt. "And that thought, that thought haunts me - it keeps me up at night, Steve. I can't lose you, or Bucky, I can't."

"I can't lose you either, doll." Steve finally admitted after a moment, pulling her into his arms and resting his head atop y/n's.

"So you'll let me fight with you?" She mumbled into the skin of his neck, a smile curling her lips. Steve scoffed a sigh, rolling his eyes - although y/n couldn't see that.

"Fine. But I'm not happy about it." Steve finally caved, letting me go and picking up the axe. "Come on," he gestured to the house with a tilt of his head and okay begun to scramble after him, "I heard Laura's making pizzas."

...

"Doll?" My head snapped up to see Bucky saunter into the room via the adjoining bathroom, towel handing low on his hips as he used another to wring his hair dry.

"Hey Buck." I smiled, pushing my hair over my shoulder.

"What's got my best girl so down, hm?" The nickname made me tingle - it was something he'd never referred to me as before and I very much liked it.

"I had a...disagreement, with Steve." I gritted out, and Bucky gave a knowing nod in return.

"I knew the punk wouldn't let you fight with us without some form of resistance." Bucky smirked, dropping the towel he was using to dry his hair on a chair in the corner of the room and turning to face me completely.

"You knew I'd be coming?" I asked, and Bucky almost chortled.

"C'mon, doll. You wound me." Bucky chuckled, placing a hand over his heart in mock-hurt. "Of course I knew you'd find a way; you always do. And besides, the face you made when Steve first said you wouldn't be coming gave it all away. I've never seen you so offended in my life." Bucky jester, sitting himself down beside me on the bed. "And anyway, I'm happy you're here. I really think we're gonna need all the help we can get with this fight." Bucky admitted, face dropping as his tone became serious.

"I'm glad to be here too." I mumbled, acutely aware of how we were both subconsciously leaning into each other more.

Suddenly our lips were moving against each other, lust and desperation pouring out of us into the kiss. His metal hand cupped my cheeks, titling my head so that he could deepen the kiss further.

Bucky's tongue smoothed over my bottom lip and I granted him access, feeling his tongue snake its way into my mouth. Our tongues fought for dominance before he won, his tongue now free to explore every inch of my mouth and so it did. I let out small moans into the kiss as he swallowed them, his fleshing hand inching up my thigh and making my core clench around nothing.

"I need you." He breathed in my ear and I let my hand rest over the bulge in barely concealed by the towel he still wore. I smirked into the kiss as Bucky growled against me, low and rumbling. Before I could tease him further he was lowering my back to the bed, letting the towel drop before was was laying on his stomach between my legs.

His breath was hot against me as he spoke, making my walls flutter and a pang of arousal to dance down my spine.

"Take that shirt of for me, darling." He cooed and I reached down to tug the bottom of my shirt up and over my head, discarding the love of fabric across the room as Bucky eagerly pulled the tactical pants from my legs. He bit his lip seeing my near-bare breasts and soaked panties. Bucky's hands rested on my thighs and parted my legs wide, keeping his hands there to give himself better access to my core.

"Hmm, lace." He hummed, swiping his fingers over the soaked fabric as I shivered and nicked my hips up into his touch. "You know how much I love lace."

He hooked his fingers into the waist-band of my baby blue lace panties and tugged them down my legs. He balled them up and leant over me, shoving them in mouth mouth before whispering, "The walls are thin here, and I'd hate for us to get caught before we get to the good bit."

Bucky kissed down my body until he got to my dripping core and placed small kisses on my thighs, making sure to drive me insane before he went any further. He held eye contact with me as he licked the inside of my thigh, cleaning up a trail of my dripping juices. His hands held my thighs apart as he licked a bold stripe up my heat, from my slit to my clit. He kitten licked my nub in little flicks, driving me insane, and I tangled my fingers in his long, damp hair. Bucky groaned as I tugged at the hairs at the base of his neck and enveloped my bundle of nerves in his mouth. I moaned out and he nibbled on my clit gently before dragging it out with his teeth and letting go of it before repeating the action.

Bucky's tongue ventured down to my slit and teased my entrance, making my toes curl and my legs tried to snap shut, but his grip was strong - strong enough that there'd surely be bruises in the shape of his fingers tomorrow - so they didn't budge. His tongue delved into my core and started poking in and out. My moans were muffled and he pulled away slightly, spitting on my clit and rubbing it with his fingers.

"You like fuckin' honey, I swears." He moaned before diving back in again. I started to thrust my hips against his mouth as my back arched but he used his metal arm to pin me to the bed, stopping me from thrashing beneath him, the cool metal a vast contrast to my flushed and hot skin. I started to moan louder and Bucky hummed into my core, sending vibrations through me and causing more arousal to pool at my entrance. His tongue and fingers switched places and he thrusted two into me the whole way, while my clit was taken back into his mouth. His lips puckered perfectly around it and I new if I wasn't gagged I'd be screaming his name right now.

"Come for me, doll." He mumbled against me clit, the vibrations of his words pushing me over the edge. The knot in my stomach released and my toes desperately curled and uncurled. I gripped the sheets and shook above Bucky as he smirked at me.

As I came down from my high he pulled out his fingers and licked them clean, still keeping my eyes prisoner with his. Bucky claimed up over me, spotting a leg between mine as I reached down to wrap my hand around his cock. He grabbed my wrist before I could do so, a little wine emitting from my throat.

"Don't worry about it, doll. I just want to please you." He whispered before tugging the balled-up lace from my mouth and crashing his lips to mine again in a hungry kiss. His tongue smudged saliva over my lips, pushing its way into my mouth and massaging mine.

Bucky teased my entrance with his tip before sheathing himself inside me in a slow thrust. The air was knocked from my lungs, a hoarse moan trying to escape my mouth but was muffled by his lips. He picked up a slow but hard pace, making me feel every inch of him as he thrusted in and out of my slick cunt. The second was passionate - and I couldn't help but feel like it was a 'just in case we die' gesture.

"So tight around me, shit." Bucky murmured against my lips, the sound of skin on skin like music to my ears. Bucky reached up, intertwining my hands with his as he held them either side of my head, resting more of his weight against my as his head dropped into the crook of my neck. His pelvis was grinding against my clit, my teeth calming down hard on my bottom lip to keep from crying out.

The sound of stifled moans and skin slapping against skin filled the room and the knot in my stomach began to form again, the metal of his hand starting to heat up against the skin of my palm.

"Fuck I'm gonna come." Bucky groaned and fastened his pace, trying to push me over the edge too. My breasts bounced in my bra and my walls clenched around him again, triggering his release. "Fuck, y/n." He moaned as he came inside me, his orgasm causing mine.

I squeezed his length with my walls and came all over him before he slowly pulled out and flopped on the bed next to me. I rolled onto my side to look at him, a blissed-out grin finding my face. I watched as his own pink lips curled into a boyish grin, blue grey eyes alight with the afterglow of sex. He stopped staring at the ceiling and turned his head to face me, his lips clamped between his teeth.

"We should probably shower again, right?"

[everywhereallofthetime]

Some Girl ... Part 3

Word Count: ~1.7k

Warnings: None.

// * // * //

Mason smoothed Sebastian’s thick, silky hair and then offered his hand to Shawn. Shawn reached out to shake it, completely caught off guard by what Charlotte had said, although trying not to show it.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Mason said with a cautious smile.

Shawn only nodded his head in response.

“He’s a little nervous about meeting everyone, so why don’t you give us a few minutes.”

“Of course. I’ll bring Bash in,” he said, taking the stroller from her hands. “Take your time.”

Shawn reddened more and more with every step Mason took toward the house. The moment he shut the door behind them, Shawn turned on Charlotte, understandably upset.

Before he could even open his mouth, Charlotte held up her hands in a placating manner. “I swear, I had no idea I was going to say that, and I’m sorry. I wouldn’t blame you for storming off right here, right now, but please, just hear me out.”

He didn’t respond, but he also didn’t walk away, so she continued. “You’re going through some shit right now, right?” she said, rhetorically. “Just come in and forget about everything for a few hours. You can snuggle Bash, have a few drinks, eat some fantastic food, - better than you can find in any restaurant, I swear, - play some cards, watch the game, or swim.”

She could see him defuse right before her as she talked.

“We have a pool table, air hockey, and darts, too.”

There was still a tinge of panic in his voice, when he said, “What if they know who I am?!” Wait. Was he honestly considering this? He had wanted more time with Charlotte and Sebastian.

“I would be surprised if they did. Valerie and the twins definitely would have, but they’re not going to be here tonight. Try to avoid playing the guitar or singing, just in case,” she smirked, trying to lighten the mood.

“I haven’t picked up my guitar or have had any reason to sing for a while.”

Her heart plummeted. “Shit. I’m sorry, Shawn,” she said softly. “I didn’t mean to be insensitive.” All she wanted to do was hug him.

So, she did.

He didn’t pull away. Instead, he returned the embrace. She felt and heard him sigh deeply in her arms.

When she ultimately eased away from him, he met her eyes and asked quietly, “What was that for?”

“It looked like you needed it.”

He had. He really had. He didn’t know just how much he had needed it before it happened. He was again surprised at how well she seemed to read him.

“I really should have thought before putting you in this situation. I’d still like you to consider it, as off the wall an idea as it is. I could introduce you with a different name. And if anyone grows suspicious and says to me, ‘he looks like Shawn Mendes’, I’ll just say, ‘I know, eh? Why do you think I let him into my bed?’”

He laughed then. It was a beautiful sound.

“You don’t really look like the Shawn the public is used to anyway.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“I don’t mean that in a bad way,” she reassured him. “You’re usually a little more...polished. Clean-shaven, perfectly coifed hair, except for maybe that one stray curl that drives all the girls wild,” she teased. “Personally, I find the darker, slightly longer hair and the stubble terribly sexy.” That earned her a little smirk.

Charlotte’s eyes met Shawn’s with as much warmth and hope as possible. “Things will get better, Shawn. It may not feel like it right now, but it will. I promise.”

She reached out to tenderly cup his cheek. “Having your heart completely destroyed fucking sucks, but it will heal, and things will get better.”

Shawn had gone through a myriad of emotions and feelings in the past hour. From apprehension to delight. An unburdening and acceptance. A spark of anger. Surprise, sadness, comfort. A moment of joy, a moment of indignation. And altogether more compassion than he’d gotten from anyone outside of his family and friends.

He hadn’t felt much of anything except devastation and anxiety since he and Camila had split. To feel so much more, so many positive emotions, within such a short amount of time, was invigorating. He stood straighter; his heart felt lighter.

“So, what do you say?”

He licked his lips and bit softly on the bottom one.

“Nobody is going to expect anything of you. They’ll just want to get to know you. I never talk about Booker, - I don’t believe I’ve ever even said his name to them, - so you can say whatever or be whoever you want.”

“They’re going to hate me for not being around for Bash.”

“If it even comes up, tell them you didn’t know until recently, right now even. We ran into each other at the liquor store and, ‘hey, remember me? Surprise, you’re a dad’.

“My family is amazing, I promise. And they’re all starting to gather in the doorway and at the windows,” she laughed. “We should probably head in, if we’re going to.”

He looked toward the house and took a deep breath.

“This might help to get you out of your head.” Before he even comprehended what was happening, her hand was at the nape of his neck and her mouth was against his; a quick, startling press of her lips. Just as his shock melted into response she was pulling away.

“I kinda wanna do that again,” he whispered. It was Charlotte’s turn to be surprised when suddenly he was kissing her back, open-mouthed, and soft-lipped.

Shawn hadn’t felt any sort of spark with anyone since his heart had broken. It felt good, exceptionally good, to kiss and be kissed again.

Their eyes met and they both smiled.

“Come on,” she said. She slipped her hand into his and led him up the front walk.

// * // * //

Stepping through the front door Charlotte called out, “Everyone, this is Peter.” She already expected that Mason would have told them all that he was Sebastian’s dad. “Peter, meet...everyone.”

She met the eyes of her family members, one by one. All eleven of them had gathered in a relatively small area. “I told him you were amazing; don’t prove me wrong. Be nice. He’s actually a really great guy. Now go. We’ll make the rounds. Don’t overwhelm him.”

Most everyone scattered throughout the house, a few spilled into the backyard. Elisa, with Sebastian, Jack, and Mason were the only ones who still stood before them.

“You met Mason outside. He’s my cousin, but he's more like an annoying little brother,” she smirked. He gave her upper arm a gentle shove.

Charlotte introduced Jack next. “This is my uncle Jack.”

“There won’t be a test, don’t worry,” Jack smirked, shaking Shawn’s hand.

“He’s the closest thing I have to a dad, so he may grill you a little.” She looked pointedly at her uncle. “Go easy on him, Jack...

“And holding Bash, of course, - she has trouble sharing him, - is Elisa, my aunt, my second mother.” Elisa smiled and her eyes sparkled. “Yes, he is insanely attractive, but your husband is standing right beside you, so behave.”

They all laughed at that. Shawn blushed, which only made him more appealing, and his heart had flipped a little when Charlotte had said he was ‘insanely attractive’. Okay, so there was a spark on her end too, apparently.

But he wasn’t ready for a new relationship, he reminded himself.

Surprising everyone, Sebastian reached for Shawn. He almost fell out of Elisa’s arms doing so. Shawn caught him easily. “I’m sorry,” he automatically apologized to Elisa, pulling him close and holding him secure. He instinctively dropped a kiss on top of his little head. Sebastian grasped Shawn’s necklace and started babbling happily.

“No honey, you don’t have to apologize,” she said rather dazed and amazed.

Charlotte looked in awe at her son in Shawn’s arms. She missed the look that passed between Elisa and Jack.

To break the hush that had fallen, Jack asked, “So Peter, how do you like your steak?”

“Medium, medium rare.”

Jack clapped Shawn on the shoulder. “Good man.” He then disappeared into the kitchen, Mason following.

“Charlie will show you around. Make yourself at home,” Elisa smiled softly before heading off to the living room.

Charlotte linked her arm through Shawn’s. “Why don’t I get you a drink before you meet everyone else.”

“That sounds like a great idea,” he chuckled and allowed her to lead him further into the house.

// * // * //

By the time the steaks were ready, Shawn had also met Beth and Lyle, Annie, Will and Diana, Josh, Doug, and Rob.

Annie and Beth were Elisa’s best friends. They had also been the best friends of Charlotte’s mother, Emily. The four of them had been practically inseparable their whole lives. Lyle was Beth’s husband. Will was Charlotte’s uncle, - Elisa and her mother’s older brother, - and Diana was Will’s wife. Josh and Doug were Will and Diana’s sons, and Rob was Doug’s best friend.

“I’ll help you remember,” Charlotte whispered to Shawn.

Shawn had thus far had a beer and a shot of tequila. The drinks had helped him relax, but he was taking it easy. He might let himself get pleasantly buzzed later that night, but he didn’t want to get wrecked in the presence of Charlotte’s family.

He may not have been Sebastian’s dad, but he wanted to make a good impression on the people who thought he was, and who had welcomed him into their home.

// * // * //

Dinner was unbelievable, as Charlotte had promised him it would be, and he was satisfyingly full.

The questions that had been asked of him throughout the evening were unobtrusive and considerably basic in nature. Again, as Charlotte had said, they just wanted the chance to get to know him. And like Charlotte, they were easy to talk to. Conversation was fun; he found himself smiling and laughing more than he had in a while.

He noticed Charlotte watching him, and when he smiled or laughed there was a look of pure happiness in her eyes. It made his heart flutter.

// * // * //

Part 4

[dotsayers]

20 Questions: Writer’s Edition

tagged by the beloved @myrmidryad 

this is a LONG one so here’s a cut to avoid do you love the colour of the sky syndrome

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

101 after a recent purge... no one may know about my Past

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

329004! used to be about 350k but again... purge

3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

on ao3 i’ve written for (chronologically) doctor who, skyfall, discworld, les mis, star trek, lord peter wimsey, marvel (various), in the flesh, red vs blue, roosterteeth rpf, check please, hockey rpf, star wars, daredevil, rivers of london, dishonored, emmerdale, dirk gently, holby city, hot fuzz, kj charles, guardian, the covert captain, taskmaster rpf, good omens, ghosts, roswell new mexico, leverage, schitt’s creek, the magicians, 9-1-1, it chapter two, the magnus archives, the old guard, the mandalorian, the ritual, the locked tomb

way back on the pit of voles i wrote for twilight, harry potter, hetalia and xmen first class. and on the newsround chatrooms i wrote exclusively harry potter fic about my oc neville and luna’s daughter

as you can tell i am not prone to staying in one fandom writing wise, i tend to end up with one complete fic and seven abandoned wips concealed deep in my google drive

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

finally see what it means to be living (captain marvel, carol/maria, i really hit the zeitgeist with this one i think i was something like the fifth fic in the ship tag)

do whatever you think (the magnus archives, this series is actually #2-7, then #8 #9 and #11 for me so i’m going to cheat a bit)

standing in a world of my own (daredevil, matt/foggy/karen, another zeitgeist hit! really miss writing for daredevil actually... it’s a perennial fave)

a winding road that stretches towards the truth (iron man, tony/rhodey, i STILL don’t know when this got so many kudos. i swear i looked away when it was at 100 and suddenly it ended up here)

where the long shadows grow (star trek aos, kirk prime/spock prime, thank god some people are checking the prime kirkspock tag is all i’m saying!)

5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

i don’t really Do angsty endings... possibly a blanket of stars just because i ended it on something of a cliffhanger and then completely zoned out of rnm for long enough that i forgot where i was going with it. there was definitely the intention of fixing things but then i just... did not do that. and now the show is on s3 and i’m over a season behind! life comes at you fast

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

where the long shadows grow, because it reunited kirk prime and spock prime and they DESERVE TO BE HAPPYYYY. i’m a complete sucker for presumed dead/back from the dead stories, actually, so on a similar theme i have two (TWO) daredevil fics which follow the trope, one about ray coming back post-s2 (might never be normal again) and one about foggy and matt reuniting post-endgame (in the corner, taking up space). this is the only time i will ever acknowledge endgame ever again

7. Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you’ve written?

i do write crossovers! in fact i am often roundly mocked by my friends for the increasingly esoteric nature of my crossovers. way back in secondary i wrote a twilight/labyrinth crossover where angela was sarah and jareth’s daughter  because i had a massive crush on a girl who liked both twilight and labyrinth. however, since that has been comprehensively scrubbed from the internet, i think my craziest crossover is probably part three of ‘traced upon the skies’, already an esoteric crossover of rivers of london and hot fuzz, when i added in a crossover with the horror movie ‘the ritual’ just because i wanted rafe spall’s character to be happy 

8. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

EXTREMELY rarely and only with extreme embarrassment. i will not be any more specific than that

9. Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

i used to really struggle with doing this, to the point that i had over 300 comments just. lingering in my inbox unanswered. so i decided to give those up and just commit to answering them from then on, which has been working fairly well for about a year and a half now. i love getting comments but i get overwhelmed really easily and struggle with replying in a way which feels meaningful without getting in my head about it! 

10. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

yes lmao it was for a harry potter fic on ff.net where harry got sorted into hufflepuff instead of gryffindor. it wasn’t a very good fic but i think the fact it was clearly written by an 11 year old should have scared off at least some of the less flattering comments.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

i don’t... think so? i don’t know how i’d find out to be honest, my vanity googling is rarely very effective

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

yes! as bronze may be much beautified (skyfall, mallory/bond) got translated into chinese, i was extremely pleased. i think it’s mandarin but the ao3 page for the translation doesn’t say and my mandarin is.................. extremely poor

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

also yes! me and jess little-smartass have written a lot together, although only our star trek/les mis series has been published, more’s the pity. we spent a lot of les mis fandom time workshopping aus and we were always extremely correct about all of it, imo

14. What’s your all time favourite ship to write for?

oh god. i think probably kirk/spock, although there’s some recency bias to that since i reread space manhattans recently and was reminded of my love for them. i really like writing jon/martin but i’ve mostly done that from outsider pov which is a bit different to writing shipfic, i think. joe/nicky from tog was also something i really liked writing but i struggle with plotting longer fic with them

15. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

i recently went through my abandoned fic folder so i actually have a few options for this. the obvious choice would be ‘any of the hockey ones’ but i did delete most of those just for my sanity. more recently i started writing a vaguely smutty pre-the thing mac/fuchs fic for alex @milkdrinker5000 which i really WANT to finish but am struggling with. most obscure answer (even beyond the thing) and most likely to remain unfinished is the insanely in depth post-tog booker/copley fic i had planned out back in about october. i wrote a good 6-7k of that one and then i realised it was going to be, like, difficult, and decided if i was going to put that much work into something it may as well be the novel im meant to be writing

16. What are your writing strengths?

once a friend told me i had an excellent facility for dialogue and ive thought about it every time i write ever since. i love writing dialogue and i think i’m good at knowing what sounds ic and what is right out. 

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

one of the things i struggled with for a really long time, and honestly still have trouble with, is depicting action in words. once i wrote a hockey fic which featured multiple hockey games and i spent probably four times as much effort editing those to make sense and be interesting that i’ve ever done on a talkier scene.

18. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

i’ve done it but only when i knew more or less what i was talking about - i did italian at school so i felt confident using it for nicky in something particular and real. i try not to italicise when i drop in words from other languages, which is what i usually do when i’m using a language i haven’t studied in depth (for example, joe’s use of arabic in some of my fic), and to only use words which i’ve heard used by native speakers in that context. i think if you don’t feel confident using another language, generally speaking, you shouldn’t do it. and for god’s sake don’t use google translate for a full sentence

19. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

harry potter on the newsround chatboards. ariana lovegood-longbottom my sweet child

20. What’s your favourite fic you’ve written?

this used to be an easy question because hands down the fic i was proudest of on posting it was i’ll be seeing you. i spent a year and a half on research and writing! but these days i do cringe a little at my hockey fic, and i think i’m prouder of some of my shorter works. let’s do a curveball and say layer on layer, down on down, which is my favourite of my rnm fics and the one i like most from a narrative voice perspective. getting michael right was stressful and i’m still proud i got it down for a TIME LOOP FIC, my absolute favourite trope

tagging @little-smartass and @leescoresbies just in case they want to try this