#Peter deserves to sleep damn it

[chronicallyill-nephilim]

Moment of softness in Spideypool

Peters exhausted. Finals weeks and holiday hours at work, on top of a health scare with May and being Spider-Man- he’s worked himself to the bone.

He lands, tells himself for only a minute to sit down, on the ledge.

Next thing he knows, in a blink (slow as those have gotten) Deadpool appears on the roof with him and he thinks ‘great just another thing to add to the pile of reasons he’s not going to make it to Friday’

In another energy killing blink, Deadpool’s sitting next to him, but he’s not- he’s not ranting, or singing, or trying to tell jokes/references an awake Peter only half understood. His voice rumbles low and slow as he greets the half asleep spider.

So close and so much warmer than the frigid early winter air.

His view of the city collapsed on itself as his eyes droop closed again, this time- as his masked cheek meet feather soft leather and he didn’t bother fighting to open his eyes again.

[futureplayboibunnie]

Aphrodesiacs Pt.6

Miguel O’Hara x fem! spidey! reader

You and Miguel O’Hara were bitten by the same spider…what could possibly happen?

i’m back i’m back i’m back!

NSFW 18+ as always

It was the same old story, same old Miguel falling in the continuous spiral of something that he has long past an issue. The further this continued, it felt like another mistake living deep in chest. But he knew that this was objectively the right thing to do. Miguel blocked your number and broke his phone.

His stance remained firm and exhausted in same old boyishly endearing Miguel fashion, Peter B was standing next to him or something, saying whatever remark or sly jab at Miguel’s signature silent brooding. He wasn’t paying attention, words fell on deaf ears and he seemed even more disinterested in everything that was being uttered to him. It was like phasing out was a pitiful second instinct. All he seemed concentrated on was you, your tender sighs and sweet lips he could practically feel wet as you breathed over the phone. You were very brazen that night, it was surprising and refreshing in equal tandem. He would shut your vulgar mouth with his cock instead, he’d slap your cheeks raw with it and then slap his tip against your tongue until you’re begging him to just shove it in.

“Miguel? Buddy, you listening? Are you high or something?” Peter snapped his fingers in front of Miguel’s unappeased and unkind face to drag him away from something he never thought he would be: unfocused.

“Stop bothering me. I’m busy.” He huffed in response, his body language radiating stress. He was trying to occupy himself with working on some new tech but he couldn’t get that right either. If anything, Miguel needed to be bothered. Peter looked unimpressed and continued to be a pest warmly, in true Peter quips.

“Well it’s not my fault you’re acting all floozy and whistful into the horizon. When was the last time you even left here man?” Peter groans and grabs his cheeks like a mother would do to a small child, inspecting him gratuituously.

“Peter. Come on stop it.” Miguel grumbled lowly, not wantingto snap at him at the fullest terrifying extent he knew himself to be capable of. Peter squeezed his cheeks harder.

“You’re so damn pale…you’re like a vampire.” Peter chuckled at the inside joke that everyone actually believed that Miguel was a vampire ninja, he felt himself lighten up a little at that but he chose not to show it. Peter gasps in faux horror. “That beautiful warm golden honey glow is fading away with every second you’re here in your batcave.”

Miguel didn’t know what to say, the only time he’s ever left HQ is to go home and when he couldn’t sleep, which was always, he came back. Failing himself and everyone around him miserably. His mood strayed at the thought, but it was true. He wasn’t doing any good here, he wasn’t doing any good for you but he couldn’t tell Peter that. No one knew what was happening to him, only you, Jess and Lyla.

“Listen man, you need to get out of here. And it just so happens you know a guy who is throwing a cookout at their place back on their dimension. I.E: me.” Peter crossed his arms and looked terribly impressed with himself and Miguel just raised an eyebrow already tired of his neverending theatrics.

“No.” He said simply but firmly.

“Yes.”

“No.” He said more firmly this time.

“Yes.”

“Why?” Miguel snapped his gaze back at him, looking slightly agited but Peter wasn’t the only one with balls, he groaned out frustratedly at his candor.

“The Mysterio anomaly last week took 20 years off my already fantastic life and I need a break from it, so do you man. Plus my wife is way more unkind and insistent than me so she’ll be back to pull you by the ear so consider me a friendly warning.” Peter looked irked as he tapped his foot, waiting for a response that deserved a punch in the gut.

Miguel was in a state of bewildered shock, all he could let out was an eye twitch. He was so frustrated with you, with all of this that his nerve endings were on the outskirts of thoroughly cooked and fried with boundless anger. Every day his patience was stretching and every day was starting to feel like a losing battle but he had to keep reminding himself: it’s for the best, it’s for your own good. He absolutely deplored thinking it let alone repeating it but at this point he was too far gone to not give up now. All he needed was for you to stay away from him. God knows what you’d do to each other. Peter was right though, Miguel had the same routine: HQ, fail to sleep, HQ, avoid. Was it so wrong puncturing the rhythm of this soulless cycle? If he can’t be around you he might as well distract himself im more carefree ways, and he might not even get the opportunity ever again.

Miguel let out a short agitated huff and let out a pitiful yet stern “Fine.”

“I’m so convincing, it’s actually the only thing I have in my repertoire nowadays.” Peter beamed lightly, full of himself as always.

“Wait. I have one condition.” Miguel cut him off, his face mixing between frustration and anxiety.

“Okay?” Peter said hesitantly.

“Y/N can’t be there.” Miguel gaze was peneterating right through Peter, staring daggers into his face at the mere mention of your name. When he said your name he felt his mouth drawl back some drool, even saying your name had him salivating.

“What why?” Peter looked visibly confused at something so seemingly random. “I mean that’s gonna be quite difficult because her and my wife are actually the ones that are cooking for us sooo….No can do.”

Miguel looked like he got hit in the face with a brick, he was vacant and blank yet his eyes were slowly creasing, wincing at Peter for a split second and then groaning out in frustration, he almost sounded like a pained animal. God, this sweet torture.

“Lie to her. Make something up and get her to not go.” Miguel snarled poisonously, his true ferocity only showing just a fraction as it gleamed over twice in his eyes, Peter noticed it and decided not to press him further

“Okay.” Peter said hesitantly, attempting to sound cordial but he couldn't help but still be confused. This was all supposed to be for fun, he didn't want to randomly exclude people for no apparent reason. He couldn't argue with Miguel on it anyway, once his mind was set on something, Peter knew it was nearly impossible to knock it down.

-

Miguel's mouth went dry, his lips curled down into a crooked frown when he realized what he was about to walk into. Swimming was so pointless. Why the hell was he being coaxed into entertaining such petty things? He couldn't remember the last time he had relaxed or done something remotely fun, he used to think that working on new tech was 'fun', but now it was just a distraction to suck him out of the void of desperation. Avoiding it would be even more suspicious this time though, no one had properly seen much of him recently, and part of him wanted to see how everyone was doing. How everyone was doing without him. The thought shook him up. At least you won't be there to make him feel worse or lose any form of self-control. He was hoping it would be a breather from all this torment. It would go either one of two ways: fine or the absolute fucking worst. As always he would prepare for the worst.

Miguel arrived with a grimace he was trying to conceal, his weak smile when greeting Peter at the door was absolutely endearing and he hated it. He just had to remain calm for a few hours, show his face briefly, light conversation preferably about work and not leisure, he didn't need to grin he just had to bear it. Peter's house was in a quaint little suburb, Miguel threw his jacket in the bathroom and followed Peter when he led him to the back garden he was surprised to see that the pool was big and deep. Multiple Spideys were wilding out in it, having fun for once, not burdened by the consistent pressure to be a hero...like Miguel would put on them.

He frowned. And then his heart pulsated erratically.

Shit.

Of course.

Lord above save him.

Miguel's eyes scanned wildly around and then his gaze landed on you. His living breathing torment. You. Sprawled out on a sunbed, stomach down, kicking your feet as you drank in the golden sun, liquid rays pouring on every inch of your bikini-clad skin. God, it barely covered anything. Your back dipped and the curve of your ass was on full display. Miguel's face dropped into a mindless gawk, eyes wide and mouth agape, he swallowed when he saw what MJ was doing. She was rubbing your back down with sunscreen or tanning oil or whatever, he stood there looking like a complete idiot as he stared at you. You looked so blissed out, letting your eyes flutter as a lazy smile painted your face.

This was awful.

He was lying.

This was perfect. So damn perfect. A wet dream was written out in front of his eyes

His eyes then snapped to Peter, and an anxious yet irritated glare pierced right through him. “Why is she here?” Miguel gritted through clenched teeth. Peter just elbowed him playfully.

“Get your talons out of your ass and have fun man. Does it really matter? Wait did you...You and her-? Oh, you did that's why.” Peter chided, elbowing him in the bicep as if he uncovered the truth of ali of his schemes. “Hey man, I'm not judging you.”

Peter walked away chuckling and Miguel's gawk became even more apparent when you opened your eyes and they directly met his. When you saw him, you were sure you could've finished right then and there, eyes gleaming and wide and lips instinctively wetting. Why did he have to be so insanely hot? It's cruel and inhumane. He was wearing a grey compression shirt that fit him so damn tight and some black swimming shorts that made his thighs look beefy as fuck. You didn't even think he'd come, but obviously, Peter had to lure the snake away. You hadn't talked to him since you spoke on the phone and even then you promised you would go back to avoiding each other. He was just keeping that promise no matter how much it pained him. Especially in that tiny little bikini. The gaze you shared felt like it had been going on for hours, Miguel shook his head and grunted before turning his back to leave. This was a huge mistake. You looked so incredible it was making him lose it.

“Oh, it looks like Miguel got here.” MJ teased but you didn't even care enough to listen, you panted heavily and loosened out of her hold and rolled onto the floor and scrambled yourself up and practically rushed inside.

Pathetic and desperate didn't even begin to cover it at this point.

Miguel went into the bathroom to get his jacket, mumbling with a stern look on his face, that little v forming in between his eyebrows whenever he furrowed his brows. He quickly glanced in the mirror and took a minute to contemplate his purpose, he was sweating and the hair on his body stood to attention, it was the moment before being struck by lightning but a thousand times worse. He raked his hands through his hair, rubbed his eyes, and went to leave. When he opened them you were at the doorway. Getting closer to him. And then you closed the door behind you and leaned on it. Miguel just took and deep breath and sighed once your scorching gazes connected again. You could feel your bones going limp as he practically stared a hole into your face

He could see every dip and curve of your body, the thin fabric of your bikini covered so little but he already knew what was under it. He wanted to feel it. He needed to feel it. You had this confused aloof look on your face, a pretty pink stain on your lips and cheeks, eyes sparking with a sincere desperation that you couldn't hide when you were this close.

“Thanks for getting rid of the restriction on my watch, that was very philanthropic of you.” Your lips curved into a jagged scowl as you quipped sarcastically, and you crossed your arms like you were in a huff but Miguel wasn't thinking clearly.

“Thought we said we go back to avoiding each other.” Miguel raised an eyebrow at you. You were shining under the dim bathroom lights, the tanning oil that MJ put on you causing your skin to gleam and shimmer, your scent and skin were driving him crazy but he had to hold it together. It was all he had left.

You paused, taking yourself off the door and taking a few small steps closer to him.

“You know as much as I do that I wouldn't have been able to do that.” You whisper, blinking up at him.

“Don't give me that look.” Miguel averted his gaze elsewhere to the pale walls of the bathroom but like a magnet, his eyes always drew back to you. He was staring at your lips. Sweet yet cunning. Mesmerisingly calculating.

“Does it make me a bad person that I want to see you break?” You smiled slyly at him, half joking half not.

“Today's not that day.” He smirked, almost teasing you. It was like a second instinct, to butter you up and then leave you on edge. Miguel brushed passed you and you scoffed at his reply.

“Ouch.” You giggled dryly. “Fine. Let's manage then.” You rolled your eyes and he just let out a neutral 'hmm."

Miguel's hand went to the door handle and he tried to pry it open, not thinking anything of it initially but the handle wouldn't budge. He cocked an eyebrow, confused at his lack of strength. Then he tried again. It still wouldn't move.

“Ugh, what's taking so long? Open the door.” You groaned before turning around to see that he physically couldn't open the door. It was stuck.

"No. No. This can't be happening.” He mumbled with a strain under his breath, his eyes shot open and a confused look washed over his face, then it turned to anger. White hot anger.

“Move.” You grunted and then elbowed him to the side, the small brush of skin was enough to send sparks alighting under both of you. Ignoring it as per usual, you pulled on the handle, your grip tightened and even with all vour might it still wouldn't fucking open.

"Oh my fucking God.” Miguel buried his head in his hands and paced around as you continued to try and pry the door open, groaning and failing miserably.

“We're stuck in here.”

-

IM BACK FROM VACAY MORE CHAPTERS V SOON!

-

taglist (giggles): @thel0velykey190 @scaleniusrm @drefear @imkikibtw @tbeanie3 @spxctorsslxt @saturnknows @eddiestitmiguelsbigdick @mafer383 @i-feel-violated @crowleysthings @avatar-lover @l3laze @wyvernnest @rowboatweeb @schniti-is-in-the-house @defnot-bri @awkward-d3rs3-dramer @hasai69 @unnisumi @irongardenermaker @d1lf-loverrr @iamv1n @ro99se @nxrdamp @mrssabinecallas @jesmynsjoys @spiderman2099sgf @xiylio @leahnicole1219 @reine-sans @tallmanlover @neverlandlostchild @axerrri @frieschan @plzfeedmebread @rorel1a @z0mbiekat @rey26 @stunkbiggu @leshiestybebe @honeycovered-bandaids @leviathans-fish @hearttjason @brittney69 @thyroidissues @4imhry @pinkliquor @realalpacorn @wonylvxz @dr-skazka @simoniithehomii @aisyakirmann @deezisnotreal @synamonthy @bread6069 @iite-cool @thedevax

[americas-ass-writing]

Happy Ending

Steve Rogers x reader

Words: 1.3k

Warnings: some swear words

A/N: For @fluffystevefest last day (it went by so fast)! Thank you for doing this 🥰

I wrote this on my phone so there will probably be mistakes 😅

Devider by @saradika-graphics

Happy endings were something from fairytales. The real life didn't offer this. Steve would know. Every single piece of happiness was taken from him after way too short. His dad, his mom soon after, Bucky (who luckily returned to him), his own life. After trying to reclaim what he could of his life things looked better. He had friends, a found family, a sense of purpose... only for it to be taken far too soon. After the fight with Thanos everyone went their separate ways. Tony quit to be with his family, Natasha went on a lengthy solo mission. Sam and Bucky went on their own adventures after Steve gave the shield to Sam, too tired to continue being cap. Being someone he just isn't anymore. Thor went back to new Asgard. Bruce went to California. Which leaves Steve alone in New York. Alone to pick up the shambles of his and everyone else's life. Alone.

The only social contacts he has are Peter when he needs help with his history homework, the old man from across the hall who bakes too much and gives Steve some sweet treats every sunday and the stray cats in the alley behind the building that he feeds. And theres the people from the therapy group he leads... And of course the people on the street who absolutely seem to hate him and love to let him know.

Do his neighbors to the left that constantly fight so loud he hears every word count? Steve sighs as he hears then fight once more and he isn't strong enough to hold himself back. "Fucking finally break. up! The building is sick and tired of you two fighting! Move out!" He barks against the wall. Against the picture of him and his friends... who kind of broke up. No more avengers... No more found family. Steve blinks at the picture and mutters a sorry before someone bangs on his door. Great! It's probably the asshole from next door.

With another sigh he goes to open the door. The angry gnome from next door stops in his tracks, the red falling from his face faster than his eyes grow the size of dinner plates because of all people it was the ex captain America that just told him to fucking break up. "Uh..." Steve rolls his eyes at the stammering. "Listen, sorry for the profanities but damn I'm so annoyed at your constant fighting. Keep it down or I'll complain to the building manager." He says, his tone serious and the gnome nods as if Steve just gave him an order... Well maybe he did. Steves eyes flutter to the poor girlfriend who stands in the doorframe. She's cute. "You deserve better." Is all he says before he turns around, catches a glimpse of the old man, Stanley, across the hall and closes the door. He lets out another sigh and crawls back onto the couch. Silence at last... At least in his environment..his head is loud as ever as his eyes fall back on the picture of his found family. Maybe he should go visit Tony. Or maybe Clint on the farm? Maybe he could guilt trip them all to see him for his birthday? He purses his lips and is about to text them when there's a gentle knock on his door. He swears if it's that gnome again he'll punch him into the next century.

As Steve opens the door he's met with the most beautiful woman he's every seen. His eyes grow wider and his mouth opens slightly. "H...Hi! You don't know me, I just moved in on the other side of the loud apartment... I just uh... Thank you for making them shut up?" You give him and unsure smile and all he can do is nod and stare. Which makes you nervous. "I uh... I had the night shift and I should sleep but they were so loud I couldn't. I already knocked against the wall but that didn't stop them. So thank you again!" You ramble on, nervously wringing your hands. Something makes Steve snap out of it. "Oh! No problem... They annoy me a lot too, although I don't have... work..." He offers awkwardly and then he holds out his hand. "I'm Steve" you smile softly at that and put your hand in his, offering your name. He softly shakes it and maybe holds it for a bit too long, not that any of you care.

"I should let you get back to sleep. Night shift sounds awful. Exhausting job?" He asks with an easy smile. "Sometimes? It's just exhausting when you have the night shift immediately after your move to scream town" he chuckles at your joke, which makes your insides release thousands of butterflies. "Yeah I think the building manager makes them leave for showings. They didn't scream for mine or for Stan's showing" he points to the door across from him and you immediately know that that must be where Stan lives. "They probably do or they'd have an empty floor" you joke and there's another sweet chuckle. "I uh... Thanks again, I'll leave you to it." You say before he can answer and give him a sweet smile and a small wave before heading back to your apartment. Steves heart flutters as he watches you leave. Did screaming at the gnome just introduce him to the sweetest human alive? He closes his door after you've entered your apartment. With a new pep in his step he goes to his phone and reaches out to his friends.

It's just a couple of days later when you knock on his door again. He's surprised to see you but oh so happy. "Hey sorry if I'm disturbing you" he smiles and shakes his head, urging you to go on. "I... That'll sound like I'm a creep but I uh... I saw you feed the strays and I wanted to bring you some food for them." You hold up the bag of food and Steve smiles sweetly. "Yeah... I started feeding them when I moved in. Can't have 3 cats though and I can't just take one. Would be a shame to separate them" he says as he takes the bag from you and thanks you sweetly. "Yeah it would be... They're so cute though" you gush and he smiles even more. "Hey uh... Wanna come in? Stan made too much cake and gave me like half of it... We could share?" You immediately nod and give him a shy smile. "I'd love that" Steve beams at that and let's you in. As you sit down he gets some tea for the both of you and gives you some cake.

One slice of cake turned into two. That turned into dinner and dinner turned into the two of you kissing on his couch. Kissing on his couch turned into a beautiful relationship filled with love and laughter. Steve has never been happier and he vowed to the universe to give everything in his power to not lose you. And whoever in the universe listened fulfilled his wish. A short engagement led to a beautiful outdoor wedding on Tony's property with everyone from his found family showing up. The two of you bought a house and moved in together with the 3 strays that you just couldn't leave behind. And your little family soon grew to a family of 7 when you got pregnant with twins.

Steve has never been prouder to carry a title then the title of daddy. Little chubby hands around his finger, big eyes taking in the wonder of the world and your beautiful smile as you're watching him with your little ones.

If Steve would have to describe a happy ending it would be this. You, his little ones and the 3 cats.

[captainreecejames]

Still Me Here - LN 4 smau

author's note : This has been sitting in the drafts for a while (lol) but I'm really happy with this one so I hope you all enjoy it!

summary : the world reacts to a hit album by yn ln, and also theorizes that it's about a certain mclaren driver

pairing : lando norris x EX!fem!reader

faceclaim : maisie peters

June 2023

liked by lilymhe and charlottesiine others

ynusername the good witch is finally out!! I put so much love and pain into this album that I now can share with you. I hope that if you relate to this then you'll find some peace as well because we all deserve that. let me know what your favorites are and what to put on the set list 😉💙

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ynforever AHHH OH MY GODDD FINALLY

ynwitches I've been waiting for this one turn it up

faneditsyn pleaseeeeee history of man has to be on the tour ↳ ynusername oh that one's definitely gonna be on the list ↳ Faneditsyn she responded 😳

lilymhe so far run is my favorite ↳ alexalbon what's that supposed to me ↳ lilymhe sleep with one eye open tonight ↳ ynusername stoopppp 💙💙

landonowins not lily commenting 🫣 ↳ yntruthers now we know who got who in the break up 😭

thegoodwitchyn another no skip album I fear

ynhearts hearing the screaming of her name at the end of the good witch, literal chills

landoyn4ever ynlando stans are gonna be in the trenchs again (it's me)

ynwitches I also don't move on (in my loafers (with a smoothie))

October 2023

liked by ynpartysongs and francescacgomes others

ynusername SURPRISE! The good witch (deluxe) is out now. I had more to give from the moment she dropped in June and I'm happy to share those songs with you now!

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ynforever babe wake up new yn songs just dropped!!

ynwithasmoothie now why'd you drop this after our show ↳ ynusername I promise I'll come back with these!

ynfans3 brb gonna go scream holy revival

ynfans4 lando can't catch a break damn! (do it again)

oliviarodrigo girl you're making me cry over here ↳ ynusername shut up you make me cry too 😭😭

charlottesiine not the guy on a horse ↳ ynusername 🫣🫣😏 ↳ ynfans3 ex's teaming up I see, lando and Charles are going through it

March 2024

liked by ynpartysongs logansargent and others

ynusername MELBOURNE you were amazing. this was an amazing show and I'm so happy that you got to be here. to share this album and these songs with everyone has been a dream come true and it's extra special because so many close friends came out.

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francisca.cgomes girl!!!! It was so wonderful!! ❤️ ↳ ynusername BABE THANK YOU

ynausyfans you have to come back soon!

pierregasly thank you for inviting us! ↳ charles_leclerc we had a lot of fun! ↳ ynusername couldn't forget about my favorite Frenchies (and monagasque)

lilymhe ahhhhhg!!! Hearing you sing history of man live is just life changing ↳ ynusername stoopppp you're so sweet 🫶🏼 ↳ alexalbon thank you for the cake too!

ynhistoryofwitches her bringing out half the grid to sing happy birthday to Alex is just so 🤧🤧 ↳ ynusername had to show love to my good friends

georgerussell63 an amazing show! Love you YN! ↳ carmenmmundt gonna drive him crazy with how much I stream the good witch again ↳ ynusername 🫶🏼🫶🏼 babe I love you

carlossainz55 ❤️❤️ beautiful show YN

oscarpiastri 🧡🧡😏 ↳ landoyn4ever what do you mean?? What do you meannnn???? ↳ ln4eva WAS LANDO THERE ↳ landitonorris OSCAR TELL US WHAT YOU KNOW

l4nquadrants DID ANYONE ELSE SEE THAT LANDO LIKED. IT WENT AWAY BUT I SWEAR I SAW HIS USERNAME ↳ yncomingofage time to go to sleep grandma you're making up stories ↳ alltoomuchlando no I saw it too

maxfewtrell an amazing concert yn! ↳ ynwithasmoothie WHY ARE ALL OF HIS FRIENDS HERE??

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐰 || 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎’𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

part one: Love in the time of pastries // part two (this one)

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲_ after Miguel stood you up on a date, there’s bad blood. He’s crawling to have your forgiveness, you’re not taking it. Until everything turns into a secret that shocks your Spider Society’s best friends. 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬_this is long, age gap (legal), idiots to lovers, secret relationship, angst, fluff, Miguel mandilón, mentions of sex and babies, NO proofread. 𝐀/𝐍_ afterglow and superlove from my playlist<3

♪ ♫ My Miguel O’Hara playlist. ✰ Index (+ fics here)

Whoever was tapping a pen against a binder, was pissing Miguel… heavily.

He was focused to keep looking at the door. You hadn’t come in yet. And you had been out for two days.

When Miguel asked Jess, she said… women stuff.

Even if Miguel denied the gang to be his friends, to his dismay… they had split up.

After the news of the failed date between you and Miguel, there were three sides.

Peter, Pavitr, and Gwen claimed Miguel had made a mistake but deserved another chance. On the other side, Jess, Lyla, and Miles were pretty sure that you were in your whole right to feel hurt and that Miguel should stay away from you.

Finally, the third side; Hobie and Margo. The two individuals were persistent in letting time amend things.

Only that time hadn’t done much in a week.

A lot of spiders are already inside the room.

Jess and Miguel are about to give new announcements and debriefings.

His eyes landed on you. He lacked a spider-sense, but he could hear his own heartbeats thumping on his ears and stomach as you arrived.

You had your suit, but a long dark blue sweatshirt covered half of your body.

Miguel wondered why you were wearing black sunglasses; maybe she was tired, or she thinks she looks bad without makeup, he thinks. Nonsense, she always looks pretty.

Margo is seated beside you, both of you chat and you smile once in a while.

You were trying your best to ignore Miguel. In a matter of a week, you had seen a side of the man you never thought you’d see.

He called your name softly, hoping to get an answer. But it wasn’t the one he desperately needed.

Just a polite reply that seized when you understood it wasn’t related to work.

So you shut his feelings out of your life, it’s for the best.

Things were slightly awkward whenever you had to be around him and your friends. Everyone noticed it. Suddenly you didn’t know how to behave, because things with your friends were okay, but with Miguel were not.

He’s just your boss, nothing else. He never was, is, and would, never be anything related to you besides being your boss.

“Is he looking?” You’d ask Margo. And through her cool mask with a bunch of eyes, she’d shake her head.

“Nah-, oh… he is now” your heart beating faster out of nowhere. The pair of black sunglasses covering your eyes would hide everything.

“Fuck…” you whisper, lowering your head.

“He’s back at talking with Jess” Margo explains. But Peter’s voice makes you forget about Miguel for two seconds.

“What? No Mayday?” you ask in panic. The baby girl was your excuse to avoid Miguel’s gaze.

“Sweet y/n, MJ and I were lucky to make her sleep so easily” She was also your only salvation to keep a sane conversation with your friends. Or else, it would always end with the different opinions everyone had about your current relationship status with Miguel.

“Damn it, Peter. You just ruined my day” you say exaggerating. The man rolls his eyes and Margo is giggling.

“C‘mon, you’ve been in a mood since the… situation with Mig-“

“DONT-… say it” You hurry to pretend to seal Peter’s lips. He shrugs.

“You should forgive him, I’m pretty sure he never meant to “

“Peter, Miguel is not innocent, but only time can heal this…” Margo explained softly. To which Peter rolls his eyes again.

“Time will only set them apart. More than they already are…”

“Yeah, but emotions are not easy and-“ you suddenly hear them, only sinking further into the chair of the room. Which is almost at full capacity now.

“Miguel likes her, y/n likes Miguel…What’s stopping them to-“

“I don’t-“Neither of you two end your sentences, because Jess is demanding silence.

You want to say you don’t like Miguel… but you do. You did since you joined the society. Only that you ignored it because of many factors. And you never thought he would ever look down at you.

But he did, and now you had him constantly begging you.

About the meeting; the go-home machine would change its location, one of the training centers would be refurbished, your bakery would need extra staff and missions would be announced through the gizmos.

Miguel looks at you one last time; you’re giggling with some spiders that get close to talking with you. Peter is there being goofy as usual, and Margo is a good individual.

He’s going towards you, but suddenly someone pulls him from the wrist.

“Don’t go…” Jess says to him.

“Why?” The woman huffs annoyed. Miguel thinks he’s losing time.

“She’s on her period. You don’t wanna mess with her in that state” he’s near the edge of blushing. Of course, he knew about periods, but sometimes he forgot that even you had it once a month.

“Cat got your tongue?” Jess asks playfully.

“What do you want me to say?”

“Maybe you will stop chasing her and let her life like a normal young adult?” Miguel sighed.

When he turned to the door, you were gone.

Of course, he had thought about that. What if he was wrong? Liking you could be dangerous because it was very likely you weren’t even meant to be with him.

And that only made his pain bigger. Just when he had accepted that Gabriella and his late wife could be happy for him.

Still, his heart used to beat ridiculously faster just at the sight of you.

…

There weren’t a lot of bakery tools in the HQ. And you didn’t know how to move around Nueva York. And of course, you wouldn’t ask Miguel to take you on a culinary shopping trip.

So you went home to take a good amount of utensils that might be useful.

The hallways are cleared, good for the pile of bowls, spoons, and spatulas in your arms.

You want to hurry, as Pavitr and Gwen were waiting for you in the Spider’s lounge cabin bakery.

At the end of the meeting, you thought it was better to get yourself busy with the bakery rather than staying home, crying about the cramps and your broken heart.

“Shoot…” you mumble once you have stumbled into someone. Some of the spoons fall all over the floor and you have to bend to get them.

Panic assaults you. The last time you left Pavitr and Gwen in charge, the bakery was full of angry spiders demanding their orders. Cash is being thrown at the teenagers and Pavitr at the verge of tears because of the pressure. You really wanted to hurry up.

“I’m sorry…” you say, only to encounter Miguel, who’s helping you to pick up the spoons.

“It’s okay…” he replies softly, giving you a warm look that you opt for ignoring.

“Listen, y/n…” you look over his broad shoulder, encountering Miles, who was eating an empanada.

“Miles!” The boy turns and you are quick enough to secure all the utensils in your arms before sprinting away from Miguel.

He saw your hands shaking as he spoke. And it only made him sigh tired as you ran away from him. Once again…

That’s when he seriously thought about something.

The canon…

“Lyla?” He asked, and seconds later, the AI appeared beside him.

“Yes?”

“Let’s go to my office. And show me things”. He demanded.

“What thing?” She asked, painting her nails.

“Really?” Miguel was tired of the AI forgetting about all the canon events models.

“Oh. Right…”

…

“Show me y/n’s canon events.” Lyla nodded, all the webs and millions of connections appeared around Miguel.

He had never seen your fate. And to be honest, he was nervous.

But he stood rigid and stoic as usual. Until your red web appeared.

All the brothers you could ever have never survived. Your mother had spontaneous abortions, and the babies would be born sick.

All the friends you ever had, always left you. Misunderstandings, envy, miscommunication.

The only love you ever had, died in your arms. He meant to save you, and you needed to protect him, ending in a traumatic catharsis.

Miguel felt like he was seeing a mirror of himself. He was also meant to be alone. Nobody to pat his shoulder and say everything was going to be fine.

He had a brother who passed away.

He never had friends, always betrayed him.

He had a love, but it wasn’t real.

He had his daughter, probably his true love, but wasn’t real either.

“I told you…” Lyla said.

“What thing?”

“She’s meant to be on her own. And begging her will only break her model. Do you want that, Miguel?” His hands landed on his hips. A clear sign of him being stressed.

“When it’s gonna be my turn to be happy then?” He asked, sounding a little more angry than he intended. Lyla sighed, sad to see Miguel like that.

“Okay, calm down. We haven’t finished seeing her canon events” she said trying to spread some hope.

As your web expanded, Miguel saw more details about you; you were thirteen when you were bitten. You had fallen in love with your Peter Parker but he stayed with MJ. Then, at fifteen, your Harry Osborn came, and… it didn’t end well.

“Oh-, wow. Miguel…” Lyla called him. When he looked at the “future”, his jaw almost dropped.

The last line of your web slowly started to grow, and move around the Arachno-Humanoid-Poly-Multiverse.

He saw you would be a famous chef in your earth and Nueva York. But his heart stopped after that…

“No…” he whispered. Destiny could be cruel, but Miguel never believed it; until your web intertwined with his.

“Then-, ups. Guess she wasn’t meant to be on her own after all” Lyla said, but Miguel never replied. He stood there for around five minutes appreciating what just happened.

Suddenly Miguel feels he has a personal purpose.

He’s not sure how two people from different universes could be together. Maybe it was fate beating canon for once.

He’s able to have someone by his side again.

Knowing that it was you; it made him happy. And for the first time in a very long time, Miguel was ready to love again. He didn’t have to think twice, to think if it was correct or not.

“Do not tell y/n” he said to Lyla. The AI nodded.

“Actually, do not tell anyone” Miguel stated, walking out of his own office.

…

It’s 10:40pm and you’re slightly sweating. Your window is open and the air barely soothes the heat.

The module of literature class of the week was so close to being done. You wanted a free weekend to rot in your house while your parents worked.

With the earphones on and loud music playing, you don’t see some pair of your shoes and boxes levitating.

Only the bright portal opening in front of your dresser was enough to make you turn.

You weren’t expecting anyone; you had scheduled a sleepover with Gwen and Margo in about three weeks.

But oh surprise; it was Miguel fucking O’Hara entering your room.

“Miguel?…” Your anxiety levels went up, and you ran to throw your earphones on the bed and close the door of your room.

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?” You whisper-yell to him. His mask never showed any emotions, like him.

Miguel inspects your room shamelessly.

Too many books, perfumes, figures, and toys.

Unexpectedly, he found everything so interesting. Nueva York was all about the future, but here, with you… it felt homely.

“You’re lucky my parents are asleep” Since they claimed the master bedroom was too hot in summer, your parents sleep in the living room with a fan at maximum capacity.

“Oh really?” He mocks, chuckling under the mask.

You look so small and cute in a lavender shirt and pajama set. Wet hair that slowly is turning into curls and bare feet.

“Why are you here?” You ask once again, growing angry. Miguel had never ever been in your house, not even in your neighborhood.

Even if you were shocked, you hadn’t forgiven him.

“I’m not giving up. We need to talk…” After some days, you knew it would be hard to get rid of him. So if there was no turning back, you should listen. Just, maybe…

“God, you just forgot about the fucking date. It didn’t work out, just leave it” You spit as if it was a platitude.

“No. You know it’s more than that, y/n” Miguel was a man of word. And everyone knew that, so yeah… probably he wasn’t lying about liking you.

“Okay. Talk, but say it straight to my face. No mask…” he liked your words.

The mask disappeared, and as always, you weren’t ready to encounter his face.

The first seconds pass with you and him staring at each other.

Hopefully, you two would solve your problems just by looking. It wasn’t the case though…

“Can you hear my heartbeat?” He asks lowly. You are staring at his chest, probably his ribs. Because if you look straight, that’s what you see.

Until you raise your head again, to tremble because of his eyes.

You can hear his heartbeat, almost see the dopamine.

“Are you nervous?” You answer with another question. He smirks, face coming closer to you.

“No. I’m-…falling in love” your eyes shut closed. Your mind, is blank, even when your heart screams the reason you already know.

You’re falling in love too.

“No…Miguel-, you can’t because-“

“Chiquita, cállate. Por favor…” he moves, looking at your room once again.

The more he looked at your belongings, the more he was fascinated by you.

“Can I?…” you nod as he asked permission to seat on the edge of your bed. But soon your exaggeration invaded.

“WAIT!. Just-… Not with the suit on” he chuckled, noticing you were embarrassed to ask him to take off his suit.

He nods, giving a barely visible smile.

“I’ll turn around” you state, looking at your own image in the mirror.

By accident, you looked to the north, encountering Miguel’s back.

His suit was disintegrating; he was naked.

OH GOD-…

You could see his strong back. His light cinnamon skin and perfect muscles.

But as your eyes traveled across his back, your eyes landed on his ass; also naked.

Soon you remembered, he was naked. And all of the situation was happening just in seconds. Your only getaway was closing your eyes.

“You can turn now…” now in normal clothes, he had a hoodie and sweatpants. Making him look beyond desirable. And you hate yourself for thinking that way just after seeing his back… naked.

“What you’re feeling is not foreign to me, y/n,” he said, finally seating on your bed. He looks massive, yet soft. His hands holding the edge of your mattress, and he seems to be inspecting your notes displayed on the bed.

“Loving someone can be dangerous. Especially when you know you’re meant to be alone” The fact that he accepted canon wanted him alone made you feel sorry for him. But it also caused a sting in your heart, since were meant to live the same way.

“Because as much as we try to live the life we desire, we only cause chaos”

“Stop-“ you warn him. Scared to reach the subject of your Harry.

“I’m in your canon events.” In the beginning, you don’t believe him. But quickly, he’s pressing some things on his gizmo.

A quick glance at your canon events; your unborn siblings, friends betraying you, becoming Spider woman, losing Harry, having depression and surviving it, getting injured because of the Spot, and being together with Miguel. In a romantic way…

The man regrets showing you everything so suddenly because he watches you wipe your eyes with the back of your hand.

“Since when did you know about this?” You asked coming closer to him. He can see for the first time the tons of moles covering you, your lashes, and clean eyebrows. God, she’s so pretty.

“Yesterday. Lyla showed me” You nod, sighing.

He’s taken aback when you come to stand between his tights, hands grabbing his shoulders and getting painfully close to his face.

“Miguel. Every time I’ve fallen in love, it never ends well, cause-“

“Can you tell the same about me?” The trauma of losing his family was more than enough to understand him. But you’re still very scared, of losing him this time.

“I’m not gonna be able to handle a second time being stood up”

“We’re not talking about the theater anymore. Are we?” You smile, shaking your head.

“I don’t want to lose you too, Miguel”

“But you won’t. I’ll always come back… for you” Nobody would ever believe what was happening. Miles, Jess, and Lyla would be disappointed with what you were about to do.

“What about our dates? Is it going to be a thing of you to never show up?” He sighed in relief, smiling proudly.

“It was an emergency. I had to “

“Save the universe. Yeah, I know.” You interrupt him with another smile.

Again. You are just staring at each other like idiots. You don’t even remember he’s in your house. You’re in pajamas and it's the end of the summer.

“So you’re one of my canon events” he nods, confirming the news to you.

“Are we good? Are you ready for this?” His question makes you blush.

“Maybe? Yeah… I think so” Now you are free to caress his wide shoulders. He closes his eyes because it relaxed him.

“I’m sorry for the date, chiquita” You nod.

“With the news, the date is so long in the past”

“I’ll make it up to you. Now, it’s a promise” he can’t lie again. Not when canon is blessing your possible relationship with him.

You look at his lips, and the desire for him comes again.

“I’m gonna kiss you now…” you say, leaning closer. He’s eager for whatever you’re about to give him. Cause he was pleased just by you looking at him.

“Kiss me…” he accepts.

So you do it. Slowly, you melt your lips with his in a sweet kiss. His lips are soft, and his hands grasp your hips, moving you closer to him.

Probably two minutes into kissing, you start giggling.

“What?” Miguel asks on your lips.

“We can’t tell the others. Not yet…”

“I’d like to be your secret boyfriend,” he says.

“Boyfriend?” Your arched brow makes him blush.

“Well…”

“My soon-to-be boyfriend” you correct him, brushing his hair, and noticing how soft it is.

For the first time, Miguel is not afraid of showing emotions. He isn’t afraid of love anymore.

…

It’s funny, sweet, and goofy how you have to hide your new relationship with Miguel.

“Why were helping Miguel so late now?” Jess asks suspiciously.

Now, you stayed with Miguel doing everything and nothing. Mainly talking while organizing anomalies that needed to be sent home.

“I’m a coding girl. I’m being useful” You know Jess doesn’t believe you.

“I thought you were avoiding him”

“It’s been a month since that, Jess. I’m a mature woman” she giggles.

“In that case, that doesn’t explain why he was at your house the other night”

“What?”

“Gwen. You were having a sleepover and Miguel appeared out of nowhere” You roll your eyes.

“I forgot my mask, dear”

“Girl, if you’re lying to me-“

Miguel calls from your gizmo. You smile happily.

“I need help over here” he’s fighting a Mysterio on Penni’s universe. You know a date after the fight was granted.

“Duty calls…” you say to Jess.

As soon as you turn left, your gizmo is on again, calling Miguel.

“Do you still need help?”

“Not really, bonita. But what about a quick shower and we head to dinner?” You smile again.

“Sounds interesting”

“Te amo mucho, chiquita”

“Yo más, corazón” you reply feeling all the love in your chest.

Certainly, you were living a fever dream. Miguel O’Hara was your boyfriend.

“No. Yo más…”

“No-“

“Okay, enough. You, humans, get so obsessed with loving and all of that…” Lyla says appearing in your left shoulder.

“Are the hallways clear?” You ask her.

“Yep. Clear and free”

You open a portal, and since nobody can see, you head to Miguel’s place in Nueva York.

Jess saw Lyla talking to you. And she’s not convinced. And she knows who should receive an intervention.

…

Lyla was painting her nails when she was attacked by the most annoying gang; Hobie, Gwen, Peter, Miles, Mayday, and even Jess by their side.

“We deserve an explanation,” Peter says.

“Woah. What are you talking about? The AI asks.

“Miguel and y/n. Are they together?” Gwen asks now.

Lyla sighs, the little desk beside her disappearing as she descended to the gang.

“Miguel was very clear to keep his private life… private”

“So are they together or not?” Hobie asks, crossing his arms. As usual, the icebreaker was straight to the point.

“As Miguel’s second hand I-“

Someone called; Miguel of course.

“Lyla, archive today's reports and turn off the machine in my lab, please,” he says before shutting down the communication.

“Wow, he said please” Lyla points out.

“Look, location says… Tacos varios?” Miles asks with terrible Spanish pronunciation.

“It’s here in Nueva York,” Peter says excitedly, making Mayday giggle and shooting webs to nowhere.

“Let’s go!” Gwen says confidently.

Lyla only rolls his eyes.

“Crap…” she says.

“I knew you were aware of this” Jess points at the AI.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” Lyla replies pretending to be cleaning her heart-shaped glasses.

…

Miguel knows you’re not listening to him. You are distracted by the smell of tacos.

“Did you hear anything I said, hermosa?”

“Hmm?” You ask looking at another couple eating an order of tacos al pastor. The pineapple slices look so juicy, and the beef looked so fresh. Your mouth was watering.

“I said if you wanted an agua fresca”

“Oh yeah. Horchata, please. We can share if you want to” he nods, standing up.

The place was humble and comfortable, even with the line of people waiting outside.

Even with the group of spiders in disguise looking from another table. Yeah, they followed you and Miguel.

“This food is so good,” peter said with his mouth full.

“Peter, don’t talk with your mouth full” the man shrugs as he looks at his baby in Jess’s arms.

“They look… friendly,” Miles says.

“Friendly, huh?” Hobie hints at something else. No one notices.

Miguel comes back with two plates; your tacos a vapor and his mulitas. A big cup of agua de horchata too, which looks small in his hand even when the cup was the biggest in the restaurant.

“Do you like onions?” your boyfriend asked you.

“I do. But I’d rather not eat today, or else… no kisses for you” Miguel rolls his eyes, chuckling.

Everything was fine. You were amazing and he felt happy again.

“Fair enough…”

“Oh, hey…uhm-. My parents are going out for the weekend. Do you wanna stay with me?” You were nervous about the question. Since the relationship was new, you didn’t want to push anything.

“I could stay with you…” neither of you was suggesting sex because neither of you needed to know you were in love with each other.

“Great. We can make dinner, bake something together, and watch movies. I can show you my books while we do skincare” Again, he rolled his eyes.

But he could only think one thing; I love my silly girlfriend.

“I don’t do skincare,” he said eating his mulita.

“Don’t worry, I don’t make it annoying…” you don’t want to finish your food because you’ll likely get another order and you didn’t want to get bloated. Not during an amazing date.

“I trust you, bonita” you giggled.

The spider group was getting impatient, all you did with Miguel was talking and laughing. Jess pointed out that Miguel never shared his food, but now, he was sharing his beverage with you.

“That’s weird,” she said, but nobody was listening since Peter ordered another order of tacos de canasta. Jess only rolled her eyes and started seeing what else happened.

“Oh look, they’re going out” Hobie was so fixated on his taco that he didn’t even hear what Gwen said.

You dumped the trash and Miguel waited for you at the entrance to get out.

You took his hand and it felt so right. His fingers responded and intertwined with yours.

“What now?” He asked.

“Dunno, Is there space for something sweet on your stomach?” Miguel smirked. Of course, you would want something sweet.

“There’s a bakery at the end of the avenue” Smiling, you nodded to him.

Unbeknownst to you and your boyfriend, you’re being followed by the nosy spider gang.

“I’m going home… I bet they’re dating and… at the end, I’m happy for them” Jess said.

“Are you leaving? Really?” Peter accused her.

“I miss my baby and man. Bye…” and with that, she opened a portal and left.

The bakery Miguel mentioned was at full capacity. A little line to get inside and the order was visible.

“Get in the line. I’ll get something for you” you nod confused. Miguel leaves and it’s impossible to lose him as his broad and tall figures move across the crowd of Nueva York.

You have an eye on the piles of cannolis and cheesecakes. Miguel paid for the food, which you would spend on dessert.

You remember your debit card doesn’t exist in Nueva York, but you had some cash valid on earth- 929.

Without seeing him, you know Miguel is back with you. He kissed your head before wrapping his arms around you, and a little bouquet of poppies in front of your appeared.

“Miguel!” He chuckles, kissing your head once again.

“I wanted to give you flowers since the first time”

“These are beautiful. Thanks, mi amor” You turn to grab the bouquet and kiss him deeply. Miguel found himself surprised to see how fast he had changed.

He deepens the kiss, some people in the line might send judgmental looks at him and you. But he doesn’t care.

He’s lost on your lips, concentrated on making you feel loved and happy.

Until he listened a well-known voice.

“Thank god you two are here” Miguel and you stop kissing only to meet Lyla.

“Lyla? What are you doing here” you ask looking at the little AI. Miguel must be feeling so angry. He was always very clear to not be bothered on his free day, except in case of a real big emergency.

“Why are you here? I’ve been strictly clear about-“

“I’m sorry. I accidentally showed your location when you called and the kids heard and-“

“I KNEW IT!” You’re not understanding anything. Miguel huff annoyed and rolls his eyes at the sight of his least favorite coworkers.

“All of you! Ugh-…” your boyfriend starts, pointing at Lyla, Hobie, Peter, Mayday, Gwen, and Miles.

“Me tienen hasta la madre. What are you doing here?” Suddenly there’s only one person left after you to buy a treat. You are so confused and Miguel already is thinking of ways to apologize for another half-failed date.

“You’re dating, right?” Gwen asks covering her mouth and smiling along with Miles.

“You two have to be dating. The hands holding, sharing drinks, and that kiss. Wow, you looked so adorable holding her cheek” You’re blushing, Miguel is at the edge of being flustered.

“Peter. Shut up…” Lyla warns Peter.

“Yeah. We’re dating…We just wanted to keep it private… for a little” You can’t help to laugh when everyone starts cheering.

“But…How? After the theater thing we thought-“

“Miguel is in my canon events,” you say before entering the shop and leaving everyone in shock.

Your boyfriend only stares there, awkwardly.

“Tell Jess, I can’t believe this!” Peter yelled at Lyla, who was very nervous wondering how was Miguel.

The 6’9 foot tall man wanted to activate his suit, grab you by the waist and get you out of his earth and take you to your beautiful house.

You are paying for a little box of sweets, and he can’t wait for you to get out.

“This is amazing. I’m so happy for you” Peter pressures Miguel, smiling and caressing his shoulder.

“You two already have plans or what?…” Hobie asks for the first time.

Miguel sends him a bad look, and thankfully, you’re out. Standing beside Miguel to hug his arm.

“We’re going slow, guys. But yeah, canon indicates it’s safe for us to be together” Your touch is what is keeping him from yelling at some teenagers and an adult once again.

“Oh yeah, canon indicates that… in about 18 months, a baby could pop in from these two” Lyla spills like nothing.

“WHAT?” you basically scream in the middle of the street.

Miguel’s eyes only widened before he exchanged flustered looks with you.

A baby? In a year and a half? No way.

“Oh-, ups. I didn’t show you that part” the AI said to Miguel.

He looked Lyla like wanted to kill her. Which made the little AI disappear immediately.

A long conversation with would happen eventually.

“Well, congratulations,” Miles says giving you a hug. You accept it, but you’re still in shock.

“Mystery solved. Can we go home now?” Hobie asks sarcastically.

Miguel agrees with Hobie for the first time.

After some awkward goodbyes, you are alone with Miguel again.

“That was weird but funny. Don’t be too harsh on them on Monday, please” he sighs, following back to his place.

“They can’t simply invade our privacy and walk out like nothing, y/n”

“Well yeah, but… They are our friends and they mean well”

“Correction. They are your friends” he says opening the door of his building for you. Is a futuristic apartment complex. And Miguel owns the biggest of course.

“Deny it as much as you want, but they are our friends” Miguel shrugs.

You already have a lot of things in his place. Your parents didn’t know yet. They would likely disapprove but easily get used to it. Especially since Miguel is the best boyfriend.

And in a month, he had convinced you to love so hard again.

“Chiquita, I want this weekend to be just about us. Can we?” You nod, taking your slippers and going straight to wash your hands. He watches you put the flowers in a cup, it makes him feel like he’s achieving domesticity with you. Miguel gets some forks and plates for the pastries you bought. And soon, you are snuggling on the couch with the pastries and glasses of white wine.

“What do you think about Lyla and what she said?” You were dying to know. But too scared to actually find out.

“She’s not lying. And… if that’s our future, I’ll be happy” There’s a lot to know about each other, but you like how everything was developing.

“All those fears of being alone or losing you are over. I have you and whatever it is, it’s gonna be fine”

“Ay, Miguel. Te amo tanto, corazón” he smiles, leaning to leave his plate on the little table of the living room.

“Yo mas, mi vida” Whoever you two were in the past was gone.

These new versions were eager to be lovers.

_____________________________________________

+Next fics are_ reputation (Miguel’s version) fic and the long time waited hurt me it’s okay part two

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[gatorbites-imagines]

I recently started reading about werewolf stiles and I was wondering if you could do a werewolf stiles x male reader, please and thank you

Werewolf Stiles Stilinski x male reader

Headcanon

Ive never read too many werewolf Stiles fics, as I mainly read Spark Stiles stuff, but its an interesting idea, so I hope you enjoy this.

It’s been a while since I watched the show, so there might be parts about werewolf culture I forgot.

There are many ways Stiles could have been bitten, but lets assume its later on after everything with the Nogitsune and the chimeras. Its most likely Scott that bites him to save his life or something like that.

Because he killed people as the Nogitsune, and maybe other times I can’t remember, he would have blue eyes instead of yellow. Since he has so much experience with other people being bitten, he’s probably more on top of his own transformation.

If it was in the show, there would probably be a whole plot about Stiles becoming something else when he was bitten, because its Stiles, why wouldn’t he. But let’s just say the transformation went as it was meant to go.

Hes still is loud sassy self, but with a lot more wolf and dog jokes. You have to expect to hear the joke about you putting him in a collar at least once a week, or making him sleep in the doghouse.

Stiles struggles with his new urges and senses for a while, especially how much how loves your scent and can’t seem to get enough of you. Even before his bite, Stiles was a clingy lover, but afterwards it gets even worse.

He doesn’t even seem to notice he does it. Stiles will hang out at your place and splay across your bed, burying his face into your sheets and pillow and roll around. Or you go to his place, where he absentmindedly makes you wear his clothes to get his scent on you.

Stiles notices how he wants you provide for you more, it starts out small like bringing you small snacks or letting you borrow his jacket, but it becomes bringing you a whole ass deer after a full moon, much to the pack’s entertainment.

You are his person, if that makes sense. If he’s losing himself during a shift, he thinks about you to get himself back under control. Just the idea of hurting you makes his entire body and soul ache, and it’s the last thing he would ever want to do.

That might also result in Stiles hiding away from you the days before a full moon, just in case, as his needs and urges get stronger and stronger. Let’s just say he’s had to buy a lot of new pants as his claws keep tearing holes in his usual ones, as he has to grip his thigh from doing anything.

Has caught himself almost biting you on multiple occasions, like if you guys are cuddling or getting a little more intimate and Stiles finds himself scraping his teeth across your neck. His instincts howl for him to bite and mark you, but he’s so terrified of the idea that he almost falls out of the bed.

Stiles being Stiles would bury himself in research to try and understand why his urges are so God damn strong, as other wolves he’s met haven’t been so bad when it comes to their lover.

He ends up having to tuck his tail between his legs and go to other members of the pack with more experience, most likely Derek, or Peter, as his research doesn’t end up with much.

Peter would have a good laugh at his situation, and Derek would just raise a brow with a small “huh, makes sense” much to Stiles’s annoyance.  He ends up getting the werewolf version of the birds and the bees, and the whole talk about true mates, and he ends up sitting in his car just thinking this all sounds like one of those trashy werewolf romance books.

Assuming you are an average human, it would take a bit for Stiles to tell you, and you probably have to force it out of him cuz he’s avoiding you. Stiles again being Stiles, would feel like he doesn’t deserve you or that you can do so much better, so he doesn’t wanna force a bond on you.

He needs reassurance that you still love him, especially after he’s become a werewolf. After a long talk, Stiles returns to his lovable clingy self, but he won’t allow himself to bond you until you guys get older, even though he truly wants too.

I can imagine it gets so bad that he wears something like a tooth guard so he can’t accidentally bite your neck in the heat of the moment, cuz he wants you both to build your careers or educations before you get “wolf married” as he calls it.

During a full moon, he also always finds himself by your place, be it crawling in through your window or just hovering in the shadows nearby. You gets used to the feeling of him watching you when he’s wolfed out, and you’ll easily find his glowing blue eyes when you learn where to look.

Like I said earlier, a scent beast. You’ll cat him snuffling and sniffing you on the regular, and it probably reaches the point he can smell the changes in your hormones, so if you ever feel a little hot under the collar you just know he’s gonna smell it too.

After being bitten he also gets more comfortable with his body and appearance, since running around during the full moon ends with him naked more times than he doesn’t. The bite also made him muscle up, at least somewhat, which he appreciates too.

When his old flannels don’t fit on him anymore cuz of the sudden growth spurt, he gives them all to you to wear or do with as you please. If they fit, that’s the easiest way to make him buckle for you.

All in all, he’s still as much of a sweetheart as if he wasn’t a werewolf, now he just has a lot of new urges and instincts that catch him off guard every now and then. Stiles would always carry some guilt for mixing you deeper into the supernatural world, even if you were already part of it, but he also can’t ever imagine living without you.

So, make sure to reassure him that you love him and will stay by his side. If you end up some kind of supernatural being too, the guilt lessens, but its Stiles were talking about, he’s always got some kind of thing going on.

[apartmentlaw]

Can you write a Peter Strahm x fem reader with lots of fluff!? Thank you!!

Stay

Peter Strahm x f!reader

Summary: You bring your husband coffee at work, he doesn’t want to let you leave

Warnings: Established relationship, domestic bliss, fluff, a couple swears but that’s it

This came out shorter than I was hoping, but I’m happy with it for this being the first fic I’ve written in months. This is unedited so please excuse any mistakes 😭

Being married to an FBI agent comes with it’s fair share of drawbacks — one of which being you rarely get to see your exhausted husband. He works long days, sometimes not coming home until the sun has already set, and sometimes even going back in to do something if he’s really hooked on a case. Recently it’s been the Jigsaw case eating away at him, making him lose sleep, his sanity, and most importantly: quality time with you.

This morning Peter had woken up before the sun, trying his best to get out of bed without waking you. His warmth receding and the soft creak of the bed was enough to rouse you as you rolled over with a groan, blinking a few times to see him in the soft lamp light.

“I have to go in early today, honey. It’s alright, go back to sleep,” he cooed, urging you to lay back down. He always hated having to leave you, and your pouting eyes made it 10 times harder to walk out that door.

“It’s the ass crack of dawn on a Saturday” you grumble, rubbing your eyes. “Can’t you stay a little longer?”

Peter let out a soft chuckle at your comment, shaking his head fondly. As much as he hated having to work the occasional weekend, you hated it even more. “I wish I could, baby, but Erickson wanted me in early. I promise I’ll make it up to you tonight.” You didn’t protest when he placed his lips against yours in a chaste kiss before pulling the covers over you, letting yourself fall back asleep quickly.

You didn’t wake up until 9 AM, the sun already shining in through the slits in the blinds. It was calm, the only sound being the soft hum of the ceiling fan above and the occasional chirp of birds outside. But still, something was missing. He was missing, his scent still lingering in the sheets. You had gone about your morning normally, getting breakfast and doing a few chores before sitting down to watch TV for a couple hours, but the loneliness of the empty house was creeping in more than usual.

Fuck it, you decided, I’ll just bring him lunch.

That’s what’s led to you here, knocking on the closed office door labeled “STRAHM”. His tired voice calls out, telling you to come in. You push the door open gently, peeking inside as you step in, admiring the way Peter looks when he’s working. He’s leaned over on one elbow, looking down at whatever case file he’s been reading for the last fifteen minutes, the words jumbling on the page and becoming scrambled nonsense due to his exhaustion. He looks exhausted, and that’s exactly what he is.

When he finally looks up and notices it’s you, a tired grin grows on his face, his posture relaxing ever so slightly. “Hey hon, what are you doing here?”

“I brought you lunch and a coffee,” you tell him, holding up your offerings before setting them down on the desk in front of him. “Long day?”

He sighs, taking the coffee with a grateful nod, sipping on it before answering. “Very. This damn Jigsaw case feels like it never stops.”

“You work too hard,” you lament, rounding his desk to come up behind him, rubbing his shoulders. “You deserve a break.”

“If only that was possible,” he hums, longing for nothing more than to take a break and hold you against him for hours. He turns his chair to face you, looking up at you with tired eyes; even exhausted like this, he looks so damn handsome.

“I should let you get back to work,” you sigh caressing his cheek before you press a kiss to his lips, turning to leave. You always dread having to leave his office, knowing that the second you’re out of his company the loneliness will hit you like a truck once more. But this time, before you even get two paces Peter reaches out, large hands finding your waist and guiding you to stand between his legs as his thumbs rub circles on your hips.

“Stay.”

And goddamnit you can’t deny him when he’s looking at you with those big blue eyes of his.

His head dips forward as his arms fold behind your back, pulling you even closer to him. His head rests against your chest in this new position, and his eyes flutter shut as he finally lets himself relax, the sound of your heartbeat constant and soothing. With one hand you let your fingers run through his hair, the other hand gently holding the back of his head, keeping him pressed against you in this intimate embrace.

“God, I fucking love you,” his deep voice mumbles after a minute as he shifts, turning his head to look up at you, his chin still resting against your front.

“I love you too, Peter,” you breathe, gently pulling him back before guiding him in for a tender kiss.

[mastermindmiko]

My name

Pairing: Sirius Black + fem!reader

word count: 4417

Summary: You're James sister, and you like Sirius. He constantly flirts with you, but at the end of the night, he ends up with another girl. How much can either of you take before your feelings are out?

Warnings: kissing, pranks, poor Emma

Requests are open

Hey! If you think this didn't completely suck, feel free to check out my masterlist.

an: I've obsessed with the Sirius + James' sister thing

"I don't think this is a good idea."

"That's part of the fun." He says while we listen closely to anything that might be ongoing outside. I hear no footsteps, and I sigh deeply. I lean against the wall of the cramped broom closet in relief.

"I told you we'd get caught." I say, frustrated that I let him talk me into doing this. He grins and says, "I never said that we wouldn't be caught, I said that it would be fun and it was."

"For you maybe, I was terrified." I huffed, and Sirius continued to grin. He leans closer to my face and teases, "That's because you're a goody two shoes."

"Excuse me for caring about my education and not wanting to get detention." I retort, pushing his face away with my finger. Why did he always have to flirt like this?

Two sharp knocks echo on the door, but neither of us replies, fearing that it was a teacher. Seconds later, we hear a voice say, "You two better not be snogging in there."

I open the door, sighing, "No, James. We were just hiding from Filch."

Remus and Peter are standing beside James while Remus wiggles his eyebrows at me, but I shoot him down with a stern look. Sirius wraps his arm around my waist, and I smack it away. He says, "Would it be such a bad thing, love?"

"Yes." James replies before I could giving his best friend a look that could send him six feet under. Sirius panics, he had seemingly forgot that we weren't alone, so he couldn't pester me.

"How was it?" I ask, hoping to diffuse the situation, James looked like he was about to pounce. James laughs, and his mood uplifts in a moment. He exclaims, "It was brilliant, you should've seen it. The whole place was red!"

The prank, they had transformed the Slytherin common room red, and while I don't particularly support pranks, I was hoping for a night of fun after the torture that was last weeks quizzes.

"And their faces!" Peter said, which reminded James of the prank once more, and he burst our laughing. They continued to chat in loud voices as if they didn't know that we're well passed curfew.

I feel a hand slither around my waist midway to the way to the Gryffindor common room, and I look at Sirius pointedly while he had a smug look on his face. I push his hand away and go step beside Remus instead.

When we're there, I quickly head to the dorms to get a well-deserved good night's sleep.

A normal person would assume that Sirius Black was head over heels in love with me, but that couldn't be farther away from the truth for a multitude of reasons. He valued his friendship with James far too much than to mess it up by being with his sister. I wasn't his type, Sirius likes girls who are nothing like me.

The most important reason was that Sirius doesn't do relationships. He likes flirting, he likes the chase, he likes the sex, the relationship aspect of all that, not so much. He jumped from one girl to the next, typically in the span of the week, and I'd be damned if I was one of those girls.

***

"Go with me." Sirius suggests as soon as he plops down beside me for breakfast. I pause in the middle of lifting a spoon up to my mouth. I frown, "What?"

"The party, the Christmas party." He says, like it's obvious. Slughorns party for the members of the slugclub. I wasn't particularly brilliant when it came to potions, so I wasn't a part of the club, Sirius, however, was.

I don't reply straight away. It was odd. He always flirted, but he never asked me to with him anywhere, never actually asked me out on a date. I hesitantly ask, "As a date?"

James sits down in between both of us and asks intrusively, "Date? What date?"

"Not a date, date, but technically, she's the person I want to take to the Christmas party." Sirius stutters, and James purses his lips. James says, "No."

"James, you're not the boss of me. I make my own decisions." I say, sternly, but James rolls his eyes. Sirius perks up from behind him, and I turn him down, "That doesn't mean that I'll go with you."

He deflates while James perks up. They both start eating food together. They grab the same things at the same time and eat at exactly the same pace. It's freaky how in sync they are. They're the greatest best friends I've ever seen, doesn't Sirius know how this fake flirting thing could jeopardise it?

***

I stare back at my reflection at my mirror. I tilt my head to the side as I analyse which pair of heels would look best with my dress. Lily chimes in, "Black."

"Are you crazy? Red 100%" Alice and Lily bicker, and I chuckle, "You guys aren't making this decision any easier, really."

"You should come." I say, looking at them. They both opted to stay in the dorm studying rather than attending the party which both of them were invited to. Lily shakes her head, "It's too late now. We don't have dates."

"You could go with each other who cares about having dates, and besides, my brother would drop everything to be your date." I try to convince her, sick of hearing my brother talk about her for an entire summer again.

"I thought we agreed that your brother is an off-limits subject." Lily humms, and I lift my hands up in surrender. I look back at the mirror, then hold up the black heels. I say, "we have a winner."

Alice huffs, and I laugh at her reaction while Lily claps victoriously. I bid them goodbye and walked down the stairs to the common room where my brother and his friends were waiting for me.

"You look beautiful." Remus says as soon as he sees me, opting James and Sirius to turn to look at me. James smiles, "I don't know what you're talking about moony. That's the ugliest rat I've ever seen."

I poke my tongue out at him, annoyed, and Remus holds out his arm for me to take. He says, "Thanks again for agreeing to come with me."

"You don't need to thank me, Remus. We're friends." I reply with a smile. Remus wanted to attend the party, but didn't want to go through the hassle of finding a date, so he asked me.

"I know, I'm just sure that I wasn't your first choice when it comes to dates. You might've wanted to go with someone else." Remus says, and I finally look at the boy who was my first choice.

He had his hair looking perfect as always, and he had on an elegant that fitted him perfectly in every way, and he an odd look on his face than prompted me to say, "Are you okay, Sirius?"

He doesn't reply, but he gulps loudly. His eyes trail down my body slowly, and it makes me feel self-conscious. He snaps his eyes back to mine and he says, "Wow...you look stunning."

I blush a deep shade of red, and I look away from him. This was different from how he usually flirts. It felt like there were actually some emotions behind those words.

"Hey! Mate, stop drooling all over my sister, and let's go." James says, snapping his fingers in front of Sirius' face. Sirius replies, "But she's not here yet."

"Who?" Peter asks

"My date." Sirius says, and he rubs his face with both his hands. He mumbles, "I just can't remember her name..."

Just like that, all the positive feelings were gone because all I could think of was me someday bring that girl whose name he couldn't remember. I snap, "You shouldn't invite a girl out on a date if you can't remember her name."

"I-"

"There you are! I've been looking all over for you." A girl says as she walks down the dorm stairs and goes to Sirius. She goes to hug Sirius, pressing a kiss on her cheek, and when she can't see his face, he sends a panicked look to Remus.

Remus rolls his eyes, but when the girl backs away from the hug, he puts his hand in front of him and says, "Hello, I'm Remus."

"I'm Emma." She replies, shaking his hand with a smile. I offer my name and so do the rest of us. Sirius' shoulders drop from relief and he says, "Well, now that Emma's here, we should really get going."

I roll my eyes, and James snorts from beside Sirius. We start walking towards the party, and I mumble under my breath, "When is he going to grow up?"

"When are you going to admit your blatant feelings for him?" Remus whispers right next to my ear, and I flush. I snap my head towards him and snap, "Could you blame me for not wanting to? He couldn't remember the name of the girl he was taking on a date!"

Remus shrugs his shoulders and I know that he's convinced. I see the door to the party and feel Remus say something to me, "But the girl he's taking isn't the girl he likes."

"Bold of you to assume that he has the ability to have feelings for someone." I say, and as much as it hurts me to process the fact, I know that it's true. Remus counters, "Well, no someone has ever been you."

"I know that Sirius is your friend and everything, but you really need to screw your head on better." I snort, and give a fake smile that surely looks just like it is. The room is filled with music, and people are dancing all over the dance floor. I can hear Professor Slughorn's loud voice all the way from here.

Sirius already whisks Emma away to dance and her giggling echoes through the room. I realize that maybe coming to the party wasn't one of my best decisions. I feel a hand on my shoulder, and James says, "You okay?"

"I'm fine." I reply and James says, "It's really no use of lying to your brother."

"Come on, I know what'll cheer you up." James says, and he grabs my hand and drags me to a table, and I drag Remus along with me. James sits down and he pulls out a deck of Muggle cards and starts shuffling them. James smirks, "So, what are we betting on?"

Remus gives James a disapproving look, but sits down. I pick the seat that makes me unable to see Sirius. We start playing and mid-way through our third game, I pause and say, "Isn't this sort of...weird? We're at a party and we're playing cards."

"We're at a party a teacher hosted, we're not exactly the coolest right now either." James retorts and hands Remus all of his 3s, and Remus grins. James laughs and he looks at something behind me. He says, "Looks like our Padfoot has already scored."

I don't bother looking behind me, I already know what's happening. It's been happening every year since 3rd year. I sigh, and press my lips tightly together. Remus places a sympathetic hand on my thigh and I give him an appreciative smile.

"I think I'm gonna go..." I stand up and start to put my things back into my purse, leaving my cards on the table. I run a hand through my hair and say, "I forgot that I've got a Muggle studies quiz tomorrow."

"But we don't have-" James begins, but I've already turn and made my way to the door. The door slams unintentionally behind me, but I know that it doesn't matter, the noise of the chatter and music drowning it out.

I can't believe that I let this happen, and I can believe that I'm hurt and surprised every time it does happen. I feel straw tear fall from my eye, and I wipe it away. It doesn't help that I hear him jogging after me, and saying, "Hey! You left-"

He stands in front of me and places both his hands on my shoulders. He stops me from walking, and I barely have time to put my hand down before he notices my red eyes. He pauses before whispering, "Were you crying?"

"No, allergies." I say, before stepping away from him and trying to keep on going back to the dorms. He stops me again, and he says, "You can tell me."

"No, go back to the party, you're date's waiting." I snap, and try to walk away, but I get forced back into place. I try to move away with more force, but it shots me back harder. I almost fall, if it wasn't for Sirius who stabilized me.

I begrudgingly looked up, and dreaded what I found. A mistletoe, hanging from the archway that we were both under. I rub my hand frustrated over my face, and say, "I'll remember the spell that I'll get us out of this, wait..."

I huff as the spell completely escapes my mind. I try to think harder to one of the charms books I read with Remus a few years ago. Sirius squeezes my waist, and I didn't even realize that he had his hand there. He says, "We can just-"

"No! I'll remember." I say, sternly and push his hand off my waist. He waits patiently and I get more and more frustrated at my weak memory. I snap my fingers as I try to remember, "I read it at the table near the window, in the library...with Remus, in fourth year..."

"Fourth year! You can't remember that." Sirius says, incredulously. I have to admit, it was ridiculous that I believed that I'd be able to remember a spell I once read, three years ago, but I couldn't kiss Sirius. I huff, "I will."

"We'd sooner die, than you'd remember that spell."

"Just wait." I say, as my eyes scan everything around me, trying to remember that stupid spell. Sirius places his hand on my chin, and makes me look into his eyes, the most beautiful mix of grey and blue that I've ever seen. He whispers, "Is kissing me really that bad an option?"

No, it's not, it really isn't, but I can just imagine how it would go. I'd kiss him, I'd get all those fluttery feelings in my stomach, and I wouldn't be able to stop kissing him because finally it's happening. Sirius would keep kissing me until neither of us could anymore. I'd fall in love all over again.

Then, the next morning, he'd act like nothing happened. I'd go to breakfast and find him sitting next to some girl that he's going to be giving all his attention to for the next week with his arm around her shoulder. I would die inside and be miserable until he'd break up with this girl, and I would believe that it's finally my turn, but then he'd find another girl instead.

I'd be even more miserable until I got over him which is unlikely or when he realized that I should be his girlfriend not a fling a girlfriend, which is even more unlikely, and so yes, my answer is yes. I say just that, "Yes, it would, now stop pestering me, so I can think."

"Love, you're never going to remember it."

"Yes, I will." I snap back at him, and he seals his mouth shut. At last, a moment of peace. I try to think, but it wasn't coming to me at all. I tried to think of alternative spells, and I was grateful that Sirius decided to stay calm.

At least I thought so, until he places his fingers on my chin once more, and quickly tries to kiss me. Panicked, I yell, "Bombarda!"

I point my want to the ceiling and the archway, comes crashing down along with the mistletoe, the spell breaks and we escape before the archway falls over us. In hindsight, this wasn't one of my brightest ideas.

"Are you crazy?" Sirius shouts, and he's right, but no way I'm going to tell him that. I look away from the pile of rubble, and brush off the dirt from my dress, and say, "I got us out, didn't I?"

"You almost squished us." Sirius complains and I roll my eyes. He continues, "And you destroyed a piece of the castle."

"As if Dumbledore can't rebuild it, besides, you've done more damage to the school." I say, and Sirius runs a hand through his perfect hair, making it the slightest bit messy. He says, "That's not the point. You were willing to almost kill us both than have me kiss you. Do I have bad breath or something?"

"Did you forget that you were going to kiss someone other than your date tonight?" I say, trying to remain calm, while Sirius keeps on getting more heated up. Sirius replies, "It's not like I'm cheating or something, she's just a date!"

Exactly my point, she's just a date, he couldn't even remember her name, but he still kissed her, and who knows what they'll be doing tonight. I add, "Did you forget that you're going to be kissing your best friend's sister?"

"It's just because of the mistletoe- James would've killed me, I know, but you're not just his sister, you're more than that." Sirius says, and he looks down at the ground, and I feel my heart rate pick up, despite not wanting it to. He adds, "You're my friend too."

The feeling's gone. I scoff, and leave.

***

The next day was more chaotic than last night. I'm sitting at breakfast, trying to convince James that I'm alright because of the way I abruptly left the party last night, while also trying to apologize to Remus for also leaving him abruptly last night.

"I promise you it's fine." Remus

"Unlike you, last night." James

"I swear to Merlin, James. If you don't shut up, I will murder you, and Remus, are you sure there isn't any way I can't make it up to you." I say, turning to Remus, voice switching from stern to soft. Remus slips up, "I'm sure you've suffered enough for your mistakes."

"Suffered? What does he mean?" James interrupts, and I pause. I knew what Remus meant, I heard it, he heard it, the entirety of Gryffindor tower heard it, it being Sirius and Emma having fun this morning in some sort of hidden part of the tower.

Echoes of laughter are heard through the Great Hall, and we all turn to see, Sirius walking in with neon yellow hair. James bursts out laughing, and Peter joins him. I try to hide my snickers behind my hand, while Remus smiles. Sirius huffs and sits next to James, opposite to me.

"What happened, mate?" James asks, trying to contain his laughter. The great hall soon quiets down, and everyone goes back to their own lives. Sirius doesn't say anything as he begrudgingly stuffs his mouth with bread.

No one says, anything but James and Remus try to figure out spells to return Sirius' hair color back to normal. James says, "I'll just use a counter-jinx-"

"That wouldn't work because we need to know the jinx that caused it." Remus explains, and he turns to ask Sirius, "Did you hear the jinx?"

Sirius shakes his head, and I notice him avoiding looking at me. James suggests, "If you tell us who did this, we'll just force it out of them."

Sirius shakes his head again, and we notice Emma walking in shooting glares at Sirius. Remus whispers, "Did something happen with Emma?"

Sirius grumbles something under his breath, and proceeds to stuff his mouth full of food again. James exclaims, "What happened?"

"I-uh..." Sirius trials off, and James chuckles. He slaps Sirius' back and jokes, "What? Did you forget her name again?"

The boys laugh at the idea, but they stop when the notice that Sirius isn't laughing with them and instead turn bright pink. Peter gasps, "You didn't."

"I didn't." Sirius defends quickly, but then sinks back in his chair. He purses his lips, and Remus inquires, "What did you do?"

An angry Hufflepuff comes marching behind Sirius, and tugs on his hair. He yelps and turns around to look at the red-faced girl. She shouts at him, "If you're going to try to sleep with my best friend, then have the decency to say her name."

She shoots me a glare, and then walks away back to the Hufflepuff table where Emma has a sorrow look on her face. Sirius sinks further back into his chair, and Remus exclaims, "You called her the wrong name!"

"It was an accident okay?" Sirius defends himself, and I find myself confused why the girl would glare at me instead of Sirius, unless...no way! No way! He wouldn't...would he? Sirius avoiding looking at me, her glaring at me, it all adds up! I flush a deep shade of red at the thought.

"Who's name did you say?" James asks, and Sirius starts to stutter. He grabs a piece of bread and shoves it in his mouth, and motions to it, as if to say that he can't reply at the moment. He chews very slowly, and the bell rings, signifying that there's only five minutes left till class.

Remus stands up and hauls Peter and James with him. Sirius begrudgingly stands up, trying to ignore the pack of Hufflepuff girls shooting him glares. The great hall's nearly empty by the time, I grab Sirius' hand to stop him from leaving.

The action catches my brother's eye, and I say, "We'll meet you there."

James looks at us both skeptically, but Remus grabs him by the collar, and pulls him towards class, along with Peter. Remus has had years of experience and knows that this is the only way to get the boys to class. James shouts behind his back to us, "If you're late, I'll come find you."

"Ow, ow, ow, Moony." James exclaims, as Remus grabs his ear and tries to stop him from staying behind with us. Once they're an appropriate distance away, Sirius asks, "What is it?"

"First...let me." I say, before bringing out my want from my belt loop and waving it over his hair, turning it back to the perfect jet black color that it was. He grins, pulling some of the strands over his eyes, to see the familiar shade of black. He says, "Thank you-"

"Why did you do that?" I interrupt him, exasperated. Sirius turns red, taken aback, and he avoids looking at me again. He stutters, "What are you talking about?"

By now my assumptions have been confirmed, and I feel my heart rate pick up as I say, "You said my name, why did you say my name?"

"I thought, I've been obvious, I like you." Sirius says, seeing no use in denying it, and running a hand through his hair. I bite the insides of my cheek and sigh, "No, you don't."

"I do, a lot." Sirius says, and he takes a step closer to me, the same step that I take back, pushing me to the wall. I say, "You just want me because you can't have me, but once you do, you'll lose interest."

He shakes his head, and he purses his lips before saying, "It's not like that-"

"If you really like me, why were you with those girls?" I ask, and I'm afraid of the answer. I fiddle with my fingers anxiously, and he says, "Trying to get over you."

He takes my hand in his, and I sigh. For so long, this is what I've wanted, he's the one that I like. I look into his eyes for any signs of anything other than sincerity, but there weren't any.

He leans to try to kiss me, but I stop him with a finger on his lips. I take in a shaky breath and say, "If you do this...If you kiss me, I want you to mean it. I want you to kiss me because you like me, not because you're bored or because you want to sleep with me. I can't be just another notch on your belt, I-I'm in this if you are, but if you're not then stop now..."

I trail off, and look back into his eyes, to find him looking at me with an expression I can't place. Butterflies shoot up and down my stomach. I expect him to leave, to turn around and head to class, but he doesn't.

He presses his lips to mine, and I let out a soft gasp. He holds me tightly to his chest, and he grasps at my waist. He kisses me once, twice and a couple more times. He doesn't stop until, he can't breathe anymore. He rests his forehead to mine and I pant, "You kissed me."

"I did" Sirius replies, and he smiles. I can't help, but grin myself. He holds me tighter, and I find myself smiling even wider. I say, "James is gonna kill you."

"I know." He shudders and I see the panicked look behind those grey eyes. I worry that it's going to stop him from being with me. Maybe he didn't even mean to kiss me, maybe he tripped. I ask, "And that doesn't deter you at all?"

"It does" He replies, and I feel myself getting anxious. Sirius values his friendship with James above anything else, they were brothers. I know that he'd be terrified to put it in jeopardy. I add, "Does it scare you?"

"Yes" He says, and I purse my lips before tentatively asking, "Then why aren't you backing away?"

"Because I can't really think about James murdering me when I really want to kiss you." He says, and I smile, maybe he didn't trip. I ask, "Again?"

"Multiple times, yes" He teases, and I smile. It's me who leans forward this time to capture his lips onto mine. He's grinning against my lips, making a proper kiss impossible to achieve. He pushes me against the wall, and keeps kissing me till all the oxygen is out of my lungs.

"GET OFF OF MY SISTER, BLACK!"

[tyrantisterror]

At Sea Without a Map Pt. 22

As you continue your dinner, you're struck with a desire to take things further, to explain that friendship isn't the only thing you want from Calibani, to finally hold her close and kiss that fish on the lips...

...but are those feelings real? Do you actually want a romance with this sea monster, or are you just some lonesome soul stuck at sea who got infatuated with the first human-ish being you've met? You spend so much time doubting yourself and your intentions, and of course whether your crush would even be reciprocated, that before you realize it Calibani has finished her meal and left the table to sort her new sweaters.

So fuck it, you decide to gorge yourself. You fought a storm and a sea serpent woman, ran from a stork, and stabbed the living shit out of a nightmarish hodgepodge monster made of rotting faces, it has been an EXHAUSTING three days and you deserve to let loose and eat your damn fill. Who knows what bullshit tomorrow will bring anyway.

Eventually you fill your belly and decide to spend a bit of time going over those papers in the Spindle, Inc. briefcase, but it's more or less a waste of your time - try as your might, you never manage to get much more than a quarter of your mind to focus on the task, and eventually you decide to just hit the hay and sleep.

~ ~ ~

The next morning you wake up to calm seas. With Calibani at your side, you take your boat out of the ship graveyard and set out in search of "Captain Peter," whoever that might be. Your fishy companion has a warm smile on her face, and as you put the graveyard behind you, a trickle of hope finds its way into your heart. Maybe it'll all be alright.

Then you look back, and see a fin sticking out of the water.

Your heart races. It looks like a shark fin - the assassins of the sea! If what Calibani said about this place (and what the past three days have shown you) is true, then any shark you'd meet out here would probably be some hyper-aggressive monster straight out of Jaws or a bad Sci Fi channel movie. You will your boat to move faster, hoping to put more distance between you and the shark.

But then its head crests out of the water, and you realize it's not a shark at all, but a dolphin, the clowns of the sea! It even opens its long jaws to let out an iconic dolphin giggle, a sweet and musical sound that speaks of a mischievous and good-natured soul! You feel your heart rate return to normal as this harmless-

The dolphin surges forward, making you realize it's a LOT bigger than it first appeared, and leaps out to smack headfirst into your boat, rocking it hard with the blow before disappearing below the skin of the water with a malicious cackle. You can see the dark shape of its body moving beneath the waves, and soon enough that dorsal fin crests out on a collision course for your boat. It's time to take action, so you consult your compass.

[inneedofsupervision]

The Big Bad Wolf And The Itsy Bitsy Spider

As you can read above, I've got a prompt. I took the liberation to alter it since I'm not comfortable writing "reader insert" fics, so here you go with some Bucky, Steve and Peter being dorks and bonding over snow I guess?

Summary: It takes some level of boldness to attempt a snowball assassination of Captain America and the former Winter Solider, but someone has to be the one to throw the first snowball and step onto the thin line that divides braveness from recklessness.

(Or, how Peter thought it would be fun to annoy two super soldiers)

Read on Ao3

"On your left!"

"You've got to be kidding me."

Bucky grimaces at Steve's voice penetrating his ear, breaking the peaceful silence. He blinks a straying snowflake out of his eye before glaring at the back of Steve's head. When did the punk catch up to him? He doesn't try to suppress the urge to roll his eyes at his friend speeding up to jog a few meters ahead, shoulders shaking in poorly hidden laughter. Bucky should have shoved Steve out of the cold and locked the door like Sam suggested when the other asked if he wanted to join him on the running track. The snow-covered running track, he might add. Bucky effortlessly catches up to Steve and shoves him, snickering as it causes the other to stumble, clearly unprepared for getting hit in the side by solid vibranium. Steve huffs, quickly collecting himself before starting to level up from his jog to straight-up running, passing Bucky but not without pushing him in retaliation.

Yes, they are very mature for their age.

"I liked you better before the serum. You've become a show-off, Steve!" shouts Bucky after him before he starts falling into a faster pace. 

"Someone's gotta keep you in check, Buck," answers Steve, and Bucky frowns at the smug grin the blond's carrying. It is just like back then, Steve acting like a little prick. Not that he wasn't happy he could actually go for a run with his friend without the anxiety of an upcoming asthma attack sitting in the back of his mind. Steve just got a little too overconfident for Bucky's taste. 

"Like the little punk he is," mumbles the man as he watches Steve running, probably sporting a grin like usual when he gets to pass Bucky. He played with the thought of running up and shoving the man into the piles of snow lying next to the running track. He decides against it. Being friends with the man for years, Bucky figures it would end up in petty revenge plotting, and he didn't want to spend much more time in the snow than he needed to.

"You're not sleeping, are you, Bucky?" teases Steve, still running in front of him. They are reaching the end of the track when Bucky feels the overwhelming need to throw a snowball at his friend's head. Bucky bends down mid-run and collects a handful of white fluff from the ground, skillfully forming a dense ball. He was acting childish, but damn it, his toes felt like they froze off. Steve deserves at least that for dragging him outside at six in the morning at 24,8 Fahrenheit. Just because he was frozen once doesn't mean he enjoys staying out in the middle of winter in the daytime when the sun decides to grace the horizon. The man straightens up, hand drawn back and ready to smack his little work of art against Steve's back of the head when someone beats him to it. 

The ex-assassin's eyebrows shot upwards as he only caught the movement from the corner of his eyes. Before he could call for Steve to watch out, the snow projectile already hit its goal, the force great enough to let the ball crumple into pieces. Bucky grimaces in sympathy as a fair share of snow runs down the blond's neck and into his sweater, probably completing its mission to soak the backside of his shirt with icy water and causing it to stick against his skin in the most annoying way possible. 

A thick silence settles onto the running track as Steve's hand slowly reaches upward to get the snow out of his hair and off his skin. Blue eyes cold as ice pin Bucky in place. Bucky finds himself backing away slightly.

"So that's how you like to play, sore loser," says Steve, but the glint in his eyes betrays the soft tone of his voice. Bucky let out a short cough. Not because he was trying to buy some time and avoid answering Steve. 

It's not like he was intimidated by that punk or anything. 

Bucky inconspicuously glances towards the compound, measuring the distance between himself and the entrance. He drags his eyes back to the blond.

"Steve, I swear that wasn't me."

Steve gives him a pointed look.

"And what's that?" the other asks, nodding towards him. Bucky looks down and draws his eyebrows together as he catches sight of his hand still holding onto the snowball. 

Well, that certainly looks misleading.

"I know how this could come off as, but-"

"Good, we are on the same page then, Buck." interrupts Steve.

Bucky swallows as the blond starts pulling his sleeves up and going as far as to crack his knuckles. Oh, that dreaded smile. That smile tells you Steve Rogers wouldn't let go of this. Why did he have to befriend this punk again? If anyone asks, Bucky denies having taken a step back. He tries again to reason with his friend, squinting his eyes as Steve bends down to grab a fistful of snow.

"Steve, I didn't throw that thing."

"And I'm not about to push you face-first into the snow."

Bucky let out a frustrated groan. Steve was already closing the gap between them, and he wasn't close to taking a listen to his reasoning. It leaves Bucky questioning, where did that snowball even come from?  

Bucky was too old to wrestle in the snow. Literally. Why did this kind of thing have to happen to him? The man holds his hands up in defense, ready to go and push the other off if he needs to, when another snowball flies at the pair of super-soldiers.

This time, it hits Bucky.

Right in the face.

The explosion of ice transforms into cold wetness trickling down his jaw, chin, and neck before sickering into the fabric of his training shirt as the snow melts instantly on his slightly above-human-average heated skin. 

Without a word, he slowly reaches upwards and wipes the snow that has begun to melt out of his eyes. His face turns into a deep scowl as Steve's hearty laughter carries over to him.

"Stop laughing. I swear, I shove this in your face, Steve!"

Bucky narrows his eyes at the blond, still holding onto the snowball and contemplating throwing it in the blond's face but deciding against it. Before that, he has to figure out who would dare to throw a snowball at him. Bucky had to give the silent shooter credit. It took him a few moments to spot him. If it weren't for the slight color difference of the light gray accent on the guy's shoes, he wouldn't have spotted him in his thoroughly white outfit, blending in quite well into a blanket of snow. Successfully creeping up and keeping out of sight from not one but two trained super-soldiers was not an easy feat. Steve is busy chuckling when Bucky slowly puts a finger to his lips, signaling him to be quiet. Steve raises an eyebrow, and Bucky slowly turns his head, jerking it towards their silent visitor. His friend catches on quickly, and Bucky can tell by the minimal widening of Steve's eyes that the latter has spotted the hidden shooter. The two soldiers held a wordless exchange of glances and came to a silent agreement before Steve let the snow fall from his hands.

"Let's go back inside. It's too cold if we're only standing around."

"Sure. Wouldn't want you to turn into Stevie the Snowman."

Steve rolls his eyes before walking up to Bucky, sending him a silent nod. 

They start walking, pretending to end their little workout, and leave the running track. Steve's eyes hang on the lump of "snow" lying next to the track as they approach from the side. When the two reached the same high as the uninvited visitor, Bucky's left foot took a side step, shifting as he twisted his hip, repositioning his body weight. In a split second, his metal arm shoots forward, throwing the snowball with all his might at the person lying in the snow. The two men watch with more fascination than surprise how the well-camouflaged figure rolls to the side with a shriek, snow-projectile hitting and leaving a rather impressive hole in the snow pile where the person's head had been a moment before. The previously silent attacker is quick on his feet. His move to the side brought a small distance between him and the soldiers before coming to a halt in an uncannily familiar crouching pose. The person who had successfully kept their identity hidden until now slowly raises their head. Steve's lips twitch upwards on instinct while Bucky narrows his eyes at the sight of brown curls hanging over equally brown eyes that sparkle in a mix of unmistakable mischief and amusement. 

"Hey, Steve. Hi Bucky."

Peter has the nerve to give a small cheeky wave in their direction, still crouching and looking not an ounce apologetic. The two adults watch, with slight confusion, how the teen's positive expression changes into a frown, leaving the two adults confused about what could have caused the sudden change in Peter's mood. Bucky watches him slowly straighten from his position on the ground. He wants to roll his eyes as he feels Steve twitching next to him, the worry-wart. He can sense Steve's need to ask the kid what was wrong. Peter surprises them by drawing closer to them, towards Bucky, to be more specific, a frown still present on his young face. Before Bucky can react, Peter stands on his tip-toes and reaches his hand out to carefully peel a crumble of snow out of a stray set of Bucky's dark hair. Brown eyes narrow at the sight of the snow in his hands before they settle on Bucky. The teen tilts his head to the side, almost as if he were confused if it weren't for the minuscule twitch of his lips, giving his poorly hidden amusement away.

"Sorry, you've got some snow there. Steve got you good, huh?"

Bucky's fists clenched at the sound of suppressed laughter from the blond to his right. He elbows Steve in the side before he glances back, only to meet the face of a mischievously grinning Peter Parker. He swears that kid is full of shit. But Bucky will be the last to laugh today after he shoves that kid in the nearest snow pile. He feels a grin tugging on his lips at the panic taking over the teen's features as he strides forward, right into Peter's personal space, ready to grab him.

 

His plan doesn't work as the teen, in one swift movement, manages to dive under the incoming metal arm that took a swing at him. With ease, the vigilante emerges behind the older man, a winning grin painting his features. But the euphoria of escaping a pissed-off Bucky Barnes lasts only a moment. Bucky grins as the teen lets out a shout of surprise at the pair of very fleshy and muscled arms, almost tackling him to the ground. 

The ex-assassin turns around, a taunt for the Spider sitting on his lips, but the words couldn't leave his mouth quick enough before the kid began moving again. Steve didn't know what was coming for him, as from one moment to the next, the Spider-Teen vanished from his vision by jumping up. Peter skillfully escapes the bear hug about to send him to the ground by leaping and pulling his feet up to his chest mid-jump, feet hovering over Steve's head for a moment. Steve grunted in surprise as a foot set down on his shoulder, and he could only glance up, catching a smug grin that the teen had to have learned from none other than Stark himself. Bucky could only watch how his best friend gets abused as the kid's personified springboard, Peter setting a foot down on Steve's shoulder and pushing himself forward to perform a neat somersault over the blond's head. The sheer force of the jump is enough to send Steve tumbling. While Steve takes a dive face-first into the snow, the teen lands with practiced ease on the balls of his feet, a self-satisfied grin on his face.

That little shit. 

Peter's smug expression switches into shock-widened eyes and a surprised squeak getting pushed out of the teen as a metal arm slings around the back of his knees before a shoulder crashes into him. Gloved hands flail around before finding hold of the thick textile of Bucky's jacket as Peter tries to push himself off where he got thrown over the man's shoulder. A laugh escapes the teen, the latter involuntarily rendered in watching the world from upside down. Bucky unconsciously grins at the sound before he lets go of Peter's legs. He grabs the teen's jacket with both hands, ready to haul him into the snow. His hands are firmly on the teen's waist, pulling with strength, but, for some unexplainable reason, Bucky couldn't lift the boy. The body on his shoulder wouldn't move an inch, only shifting slightly along with the movement of his jacket. A short moment passes before Bucky tilts his head to get a look at Peter's face, eyes squinting with accusation. 

"Are you sticking to me?"

The disgust in Bucky's voice sends Peter into a laughing fit, not having expected the sheer horror in the man's voice. He couldn't even form a coherent sentence from how much he was cackling while hanging over Bucky's shoulder, the latter still glaring at him. It wasn't easy to get a genuine reaction out of Bucky, the ex-assassin carrying a neutral expression most of the time if he wasn't scowling at someone or showing a smirk. The surprised tone of the super-soldier's voice, mixed with a spark of horror and disgust, had caught Peter off guard.

Bucky and Sam always reacted rather strongly at the display of Peter's most spider-like trait. Solely for that reason, he used his ability more than once just out of spite to annoy them. Their reactions are hilarious, and although they tell him to keep the "freakiness down a notch" while putting a hand over their chest in Sam's case and accusing him of trying to give them a heart attack, Peter finds himself not minding the teasing. As the youngest of the group, he often has to live with the jokes thrown his way. If sticking to the ceiling at three a.m. is a way to hand back some of their medicine, Peter gladly let go of the chance to get some sleep. The teen made it his challenge to get the two men used to his abilities, and if that meant he had to freak them out until they grew used to him sticking to stuff, then that's what he calls a win-win on his side. 

"You, Peter Parker, aren't as innocent as you pretend to be." 

That's what Mr. Stark had told him with an amused tug of his lips as he had to call someone to repair the hole in the living room, a keepsake from Peter's last little prank on Bucky. 

Peter is still hanging over Bucky's shoulder, clinging to him with his hands efficiently sticking against the man's clothes. The latter can feel the teen shaking from laughter and shakes his head at the teen's antics with a little grin. "I'll get you off. Just wait, Parker," threatens the man playfully as he gives the body on his shoulder another experimental tuck. As expected, Peter wouldn't budge an inch, shaking his head at Bucky's words. Bucky rolls his eyes, having caught a glance at the large grin plastered over the teen's face. The kid was enjoying this way too much.

"Steve, get your frosty butt up. I need a little help here."

As soon as the words leave his lips, Bucky can feel the body on his shoulder stiffen. The man quickly fastens his grip on the teen. And he did so not too late because just a moment later, the struggle began. Bucky laughs. "What? Now, you don't want to stick close?"

He smirks as he hears Peter groan at his bad joke, the movement halting for a moment before it picks up again. Peter is pushing his hands against Bucky's back, trying to lift himself off. His movement grew more erratic, and Bucky raised an eyebrow. One glance at Steve gives Bucky an idea of why Peter's effort to escape is increasing tenfold. Steve frowns at the pair as he runs a hand through his short golden hair, wiping ice water and snow off. The blond had managed to climb out of the snow but gave off a comedic picture. Captain America covered from top to bottom in white, an unamused expression on his face. 

"Do you want to go first, or should I?" asks Bucky Steve, his grin widening as he feels the kid's fingers curl into his jacket, holding on for dear life and probably fearing Steve's revenge. Knowing Steve, the latter would, despite getting kicked into the snow and laughed at, go soft on the teen but said teenager didn't know about that. Steve playfully scowls at Peter, hands on his hips and giving him the disappointed-Captain-America-PSA-look that the kid had probably seen too often during school. 

"Hand the Spider over, Buck."

To the untrained eye, Steve looks convincingly pissed off, but Bucky could see past the stern facade. Steve is successfully messing with the kid. Said kid is easily fooled and starts pleading, nervousness dripping from every word, and Bucky notes with amusement that the hold on his jacket grows even tighter. The teen wasn't even realizing that clinging to Bucky wouldn't help him in any way. 

"Steve? Come on, that was not that bad, right? You were frozen before. Stuck in a bit of snow is nothing new to you."

Steve wears an incredulous look on his face as he raises an eyebrow at Peter's words. He glances at Bucky, silently asking the man if he misheard or if Peter just added fuel to the fire. Bucky shrugs his shoulders. Peter seemed to realize that his nervous stumbling over words wasn't helping him out of this mess. Bucky has to put some strength into his hold on the teen, throwing Steve an amused grin at the teen wriggling like a worm. 

"Whatever you're thinking of, please don't do it. Steve, I'm serious. Steve, no. Stop right there! Don't come closer!"

Despite his words and the evident panic in his voice, some nervous giggles are slipping between the teen's words. Bucky shakes his head at Steve, the latter wearing a stupidly wide grin as he draws closer, clearly amused by Peter's panicked rambling. 

"Stay away, Steve!" shouts Peter as the blond reaches out for the squirming teen, ready to fling him into the snow. It's a good thing they are at the compound, far from the eye of the public, because the scene unfolding on the Avenger's training grounds would have drawn various headlines in the news. It was quite a sight, the former Winter Soldier holding an unknown teenage boy captive while Captain America tries prying said teen off of his shoulder. 

"You're one sticky punk, aren't you?"

"Language, Bucky."

There is no real bite in Steve's voice, the blond too busy trying to avoid getting hit by a lanky arm that flails around while Peter tries to hold onto Bucky and simultaneously tries to push Steve away. Peter keeps shouting at Steve to leave him alone, threatening to stick to him if he gets too close, all the while laughing. His threats only last for so long before Peter lets out a yelp in surprise. His fingers let go of Bucky's jacket that was now lying on his lap, and he stared at it for a few moments, a puzzled look on his face. Peter slowly lifts his head, sitting on the snow-covered ground, dazed. His eyes fall onto Steve's and Bucky's faces. He swallows as the men smirk while looking down at him. In a blur of motion, Peter throws the jacket at its owner, successfully covering his head with it and earning a colorful curse. He uses the few seconds where Bucky is occupied with taking the jacket out of his face and tries dashing between the two men, choosing the fastest way back to the compound. 

The empathize is on trying. 

Steve stepped forward, grabbing the teen by the waist before Peter could run off. Peter let out a grunt as he was successfully tackled to the ground by a body twice his weight.

"Let's see how much you like playing in the snow."

Steve grins down at the teen pinned under him who, despite his earlier panic, throws back a challenging look at the super soldier. Steve raises an eyebrow, surprised at the smugness on the teen's face. It was typical for Spiderman to act confident, but he hasn't seen that look much in Peter Parker. It suits the kid. 

Steve's eyes widen in surprise as a small hand clamps around his wrists. With one powerful tug, their positions reverse, and the blond finds himself pressed into the ground, one arm pinned above his head. Peter leans over him with a wide grin on his face. Steve notices the teen's free hand has grabbed a good amount of snow, and it doesn't take a genius to guess what the kid was planning to do. The teen opens his mouth, probably to throw some witty remark at him, only to wipe his head to the side so fast it nearly causes Steve to flinch. He catches the widening of Peter's eyes.

"Don't!"

The command hits deaf ears, and before Steve knows what happens, he's not looking at a grinning Peter but at the cloudless sky above. He turns his head towards the noise on his right, and a grin spreads onto his face. Steve watches a ball of limps rolling a few meters with a chuckle. Bucky had successfully tackled Peter off of him, and he and the kid were now fighting for the upper hand. Steve grins at his best friend grumbling about hyperactive teens and Peter trying to shove the man off him, laughing at his complaints. He laughs as Peter lets out a shriek of protest when the older man starts to put snow into the opening of his jacket. 

"Stohohop, it's cold!"

"That's the point, punk."

Peter trashes under Bucky, who had made it to his challenge to shove as much snow as possible under the teen's clothes. Peter tries prying the icy fingers of his skin, laughing but shuddering at the coldness running through his body. Steve walks over, amused by his friend playing around like a kindergartener, watching the spectacle for a few minutes. In the beginning, Peter had been fiercely fighting back, but after some time, Steve noticed the teen growing tired. If it were anyone else, Steve wouldn't have wondered about giving up against the strength of a playful super-solider, but this was Peter. Spiderman doesn't grow tired this easily.

"Peter, are you alright?"

Steve's words cause Bucky to stop wrestling with the kid. He also had noticed the teen's movements become sluggish, but Peter hadn't earnestly told him to stop, and the older man hadn't put much thought into it. Now that he hovers over the teen, not holding him down anymore, he notices the complexion of the kid's face as unusually pale. Brown eyes glance up at them, a sheepish grin on the teen's face, and if Steve didn't know better, he would say the teen looks almost embarrassed.

"Too cold. Can't thermoregulate."

At Peter's words, Bucky turns his head at Steve, raising an eyebrow in silent question, hoping his friend knew what the teen was talking about. Steve wears a frown on his face, telling Bucky without words that his friend feels as much out of depth as he does with the short explanation. Peter must have caught their troubled expression as he tiredly tugged on Bucky's sleeve, gaining his attention.

"It's because of the spider DNA. I cannot regulate my temperature. My body struggles to create body heat like yours does. If it gets too cold-"

"Your body grows weak because it needs a certain temperature to function," finishes Steve Peter's sentence while looking down at the teen, the latter looking out of it but still nods at him with a small smile. Steve shakes his head at the teen, and Bucky doesn't feel like smiling at all, scowl deepening at the sight of a bluish hue on the boy's lips.

"Damn it, Peter, why didn't you say anything sooner?"

Before the teen could justify his lack of explanation, he finds himself bundled up in a jacket three sizes too big, the initials S.R. adorning the front. Not taking any risks of the teen being out in the cold for much longer, Bucky, despite the weak protests from Peter, throws the boy over his shoulder.

"Don't think we are letting you off the hook that easily," mutters the man under his breath as he carries the teen towards the compound. The automatic doors of the entrance already stand open when Bucky walks in. He kicks his running shoes off mid-step and hurries into the joint room. Despite his grumbling, the older man carefully puts Peter down on the couch. He straightens up, looking down on the freezing teen with a frown. Peter is cold, but the lack of shivering was a bit off-putting, giving little clue about what stage of hypothermia they are dealing with. 

The absence of shivering must have to do something with being unable to thermoregulate. Bucky had to ask Banner about that, not trusting the kid to give him all the information. 

"Friday, can you tell us Peter's body temperature?"

"Mr. Parker's body temperature currently lays around 94,64 °F. I recommend taking measurements to get the temperature up. It is beyond his average. A long-term drop in body temperature could cause health concerns, Mr. Rogers." 

"Thank you, Friday."

Steve turns towards Bucky, who controls the urge to roll his eyes at the kicked-puppy stare his friend is wearing. "He'll be fine, Steve. Go search for a blanket and make some tea or something. I'll take care of him."

Steve sends him a small smile. "Thanks, Buck."

Bucky shakes his head when his friend walks out of the room, not liking the guilty-ridden expression painted on the blond's face. Knowing Steve blames himself for not noticing something was up sooner was typical of the man. It made Bucky want to beat some sense into his best friend. He faces Peter again, the latter, at least looking relatively more aware of his surroundings thanks to Friday having raised the room temperature. He watches the teen fumble with the zipper of his jacket, a frown drawn on his youthful face as his fingers wouldn't work how he wanted them to. Peter stares at the metal hand popping up in his vision and pulls down the zipper he struggled skillfully. His jacket gets peeled off of him the next moment before a gruff voice causes him to lift his head. 

"Arms up, punk."

"Hmm?"

Brown eyes throw him a confused look, and although Bucky would have teased the teen for being not quick to take on, he swallows the comment. He had time to make fun of the kid after he got rid of the blue on his lips. 

"You need to put on dry clothes. If you get sick, Stark will throw a fit."

That coaxes a reaction out of the teen. 

"Not keen on Mr. Stark threatening to take your arm off?" asks Peter with a little smirk. 

Oh. Bucky grins. Seems like the teen isn't that out of it after all. He flicks Peter's forehead, earning a glare.

"I'll hear that every day. His threats don't work on me. Now, arms up."

Thankfully, Peter wore snow pants, which are relatively easy to pull off the teen. The thick sweatpants he wore under his outdoor clothes were dry, but Bucky couldn't say the same about the kid's socks and shirt. The gray shirt is soaked, sticking to Peter's skin all around. Thankfully, Steve wasn't here to see this, or Bucky would get an earful again. The soldier watches as Peter tugs at the front of his shirt, grimacing at the feeling of the wet fabric pulling off his skin, only to stick back when he lets it drop. 

Maybe he went a little overboard with the snow. With a sigh, he bends over and gets a hold of the end of the wet shirt. Peter made a noise of protest as Bucky pulled the undesirable article of clothing over his head, leaving him in nothing but his pants, but at least he was left with only dry clothes on his body. Bucky scans the room in search of the blankets he had seen other members of the compound use before the voice in the ceiling spoke to him again. 

"If I am allowed to interfere, Mr. Stark has arranged a range of special clothing for Mr. Parker in cases of a temperature drop."

"So Stark is aware of this problem of yours," says Bucky, glancing at the teen. Peter caught him looking and nodded.

"It wasn't fun when he found out. Mr. Stark caught on mid-February with winter almost over." The kid's expression is solemn as he talks. Bucky almost reaches out to ruffle his hair, amused by the seriousness with which Peter was telling him this as if it had been one of the worst days of his life and not his mentor being rightfully concerned. Instead, he gave a little shake of his head, a corner of his lips tugged upwards while walking over to a closet. He hears some shuffling behind him as he pulls out a set of blankets, almost throwing them at the kid in frustration as he sees the teen has stood up.

"What do you think you are doing?"

Peter sighs as he gets pushed back to sit on the couch with Bucky standing before him, sternly looking down on him. A person shouldn't be able to look as intimidating with an armful of baby blue blankets. 

"I was about to get the shirt Friday told you about."

"You will sit here and wait while I get that shirt. It's in your closet?"

Peter nods while pulling the blanket around his shoulders but not without rolling his eyes, letting out a small yelp as Bucky flicks a finger against his forehead. The teen glares up at him, but Bucky merely raises an eyebrow at him, a silent dare. Bucky gives him one last glance, checking that the teen is bundled up tightly and behaving, not wandering around on his own before he retreats. With Stark's AI speaking to him and giving directions, it is relatively easy to find the clothes despite the chaos in Peter's room.

"This looks pretty tight."

The man eyes the almost plain-looking textile in his hand. Bucky wasn't sure what he had expected, but knowing Stark, he thought whatever this was, it to be more eccentric as he took in the dark gray clothing. Maybe the billionaire held back on his desire for extravagance to accommodate the young vigilante's preference for simplicity. He had noticed that aside from throwing in some colors and graphic shirts, the teen likes to dress easy on the eye.

"It is, but it does a good job. Mr. Stark made several of these. They are great. Maybe you could ask him to make some for you and Steve too?"

Bucky refrains from telling the kid that he and Stark weren't on the level for him to ask the kid's mentor any favors, although the hopeful sparkle in the kid's eyes tells him that Peter thought about that matter differently. Shrugging his shoulders, he skilfully avoids giving him an answer. The man stretches the sleeves to form an opening and holds it out for Peter. 

Peter tilts his head to the side, his eyes wandering up to meet Buckys, giving him a look before settling back onto the clothing held out for him, confusion evident on his face. Feeling merciful, Bucky takes Peter's wrist. "You do have to put this on to work, you know?" teases the man while pulling the teen's hand through the sleeve, noticing with a smirk how a hue of pink spread over the teen's ears. Maybe he should start acting more like this if it's this easy to make the kid sputter around in embarrassment. Oh, he has to tell Sam about this. The kid tugs at his wrist, checks growing red as Bucky tries to pull his other hand through the second sleeve. When he was about to pull the shirt over Peter's head, the teen had enough. He pushes the hands away, sending a frown at the man.

"I can do this on my own!" 

Catching the smirk on Bucky's face, it dawns on the teen that the ex-assassin was doing this on purpose. Peter quickly realizes that protesting wouldn't work on the man. Bucky had the mission to embarrass him, but Peter wouldn't let that happen. He was Spiderman, for crying out loud. Peter was perfectly capable of dressing alone. Getting cold slowed the process down, he had to admit. But still, Peter's sixteen years old. 

He knows how to wear a shirt. Not planning to play along with Bucky, the now slightly frustrated teen leaned back into the couch and slid down to avoid the hands pulling further on the long sleeve. He uses the new-won distance to roll to the right, trying to make a run for it.

"Get back here, punk," scolds Bucky, but the playful twinkle in his eyes betrays the stern tone of his voice. 

"I won't let you mess with me."

It would have sounded more convincing if Peter wasn't kneeling at the end of the couch, both arms stuck into the shirt but glaring instead of pulling it over his head, wearily observing what the man a few feet away from him was planning to do. Bucky crosses his arms over his chest, amused.

"Doesn't look like you do a good job."

Peter squints at the words.

"If I pull this over my head, are you leaving me alone?"

Humoring the kid, Bucky acts thoughtful before grinning a shit-eating grin that Peter has seen too often. 

"Why should I do that? I've got to make sure you are wearing it correctly. I cannot trust you to keep yourself warm."

The teen deflates at the words, almost sounding petulant now.

"I would have told you and Steve! Sooner or later..."

When the man raises a single eyebrow, the teen huffs in frustration. But he is not making a move that shows he agrees to let Bucky help him. The tension hangs thickly over the room as the two hold a stare-off. Both are waiting for the other to make the first move, Bucky watching the teen with rapt eyes while Peter's muscles are bulging under his sweatpants, ready to jump over the couch at any second. Bucky was the first to move. Without looking, his arm shots to the side, grabbing a hold of a stray pillow and throwing it at the teen while rushing forward. Thanks to the room's raised temperature, Peter wasn't as sluggish as before but still nowhere near his usual speed. His spidey sense prevents him from being hit in the head, raising his arms along with the thermo-shirt around his wrists to block the flying pillow. Peter's brows draw together in confusion as his spider sense still acts up, even after keeping the pillow from colliding with his face. 

"Holy-"

The rest of his sentence gets lost in a high-pitched squeak as a metal arm wraps around his middle, tackling him successfully into the couch. Dark strands fall onto Bucky's face, the man grinning down at the teen who glares up from his position under him. It's a little insulting how easily he got him pinned on his back, straddling him by sitting on his tights and throwing him a winning grin that irks Peter just by looking at it.

"Get off," whines the teen and is about to push at Bucky's chest to shove him off, but the older of the two catches the shirt hanging between Peter's wrists and presses it down, forcing Peter's hands away. 

"You're not in the position to make claims, kid."

While forcing the teen into the shirt, Bucky grins, an occasional chuckle leaving his lips at the glares sent his way. By the end of the ordeal, Peter let his head fall back onto the couch in defeat, looking absolutely done with everything. His hair is a tousled mess of brown curls hanging in his eyes, the tips of his ears red again from embarrassment. The teen rolls his eyes at Bucky when the latter asks if he is still feeling cold with a mild dose of sarcasm. The man catches Peter's expression, poking him in the now finally covered stomach. "Don't get sassy, punk," he threatens with a grin promising no good. He is about to poke Peter a second time, for good measure, when his hand gets caught in a firm hold. Peter lifts his head, sending him a glare.

"Don't."

Bucky raises an eyebrow.

"What? You're ticklish?

When the teen doesn't answer immediately, Bucky pokes him again, this time in the side, eyes trained on Peter's face. Peter's jaw is clenching under the pressure of trying to keep his facial expressions under control, but the unmistakable nervousness creeping on his face is almost too easy to detect. Without batting an eye, Bucky frees his hand out of Peter's hold, ignoring the confusion written all over the teen's face as he places his hand over the teen's middle. He just let it hover there, a few inches over the teen's tummy and not moving, never taking his eyes off the teen's face. Peter glances from the hand up to Bucky's face and back to the hand, eyes widening as he sees a single finger twitch. He observes with the morbid curiosity of someone watching a horror movie how the rest of Bucky's hand stays motionless while one finger moves as if independent of the rest of the body. Peter wasn't sure if it was because of the prosthetic, but somehow Bucky managed to wiggle just one finger, then two, and then three, while the rest stayed static. Under other circumstances, he would be fascinated by this observation. In this instance, it merely serves to freak the hell out of Peter. All of the vibranium fingers are moving now in a manner that only indicates one specific outcome of what happens next, and he is not ready for it. 

When the hand starts to descend, he breaks. Before the wiggling finger could close the gap, Peter loses his will to pretend to be tough in front of Bucky. 

"Okay, okay, I admit it. I'm ticklish, alright? You can stop now. You don't have to prove anything!"

Bucky merely raises his eyebrows in amusement at the panicked words stumbling out of the teen's mouth, accompanied by a pair of hands gripping his wrist, hindering his hand from moving further down. 

"After your stunt from earlier, I'm not sure to believe you. Better check this out myself, just to be sure."

"You don't have to do tha-AHAHA! NOAHAHAH BUHUHUCKY!"

"I'm not convinced, Peter. Does this count as ticklish?"

A grin grows on Bucky's face as he watches the teen under him squirming like a worm on a hook. He had not even touched the teen before nervous giggles slipped out Peter. As soon as his fingers actually dug into the flesh of the kid's stomach, Peter's resolve had broken. He didn't try to hold his reaction back, fueling Bucky's curiosity to see what other noises he could coax out of the teen. His stomach has to be a rather good spot by the way Peter threw his head back as Bucky focused his wriggling fingers to dig into the sides of his tummy. Slender hands tried to catch his, but it was too easy to bat them out of the way to get back on skittering his fingertips over the smooth material of Peter's shirt. The shirt clung tightly against his lean body, making it very easy for the metal digits to glide over the middle of Peter's tummy, earning him little jumps whenever he traveled towards his belly button or his lowest rib. 

"Is that a bad spot?" The answer was obvious, but it was too fun to pass the opportunity to watch Peter struggling to answer. Bucky grins as he watches the teen trying to form a coherent sentence between his laughing fit.

"Yes, yes, yes, yehehehes! It's sohoho bahad, it's bahahahad Buhucky!"

"It's that bad?" asks Bucky, acting surprised as he sends ten fingers onto the small patch between the teen's waistline and belly button, feeling the muscle contracting under his fingertips as the teen tries to curl into himself with a shriek but is unable to. His hands get shoved off by flailing arms.

"It's that bad," confirms Peter with a glare, taking the chance to catch his breath while the super soldier had mercy on him.

"That's too bad. I like that spot," muses Bucky as he looks down on the said spot, catching the nervous look Peter throws him out of the corner of his eyes.

"Don't you dare," warns Peter, failing to sound intimidating while grabbing onto Bucky's wrists. 

"Oh, scary," mocks the man before letting himself fall forward. Peter lets out a panicked squeal and throws his hands up to catch the heavy body that's about to collapse on him. Bucky lessens his fall just in time with one arm probed against the back of the couch while using the chance to get a hold of the teen's arms with his free hand, wrestling them over Peter's head and pinning them there. Brown, wide-blown eyes stare up at him before Peter shakes himself out of puzzlement. 

"You tricked me!" 

"I thought you're smarter than that."

"And I thought you don't use dirty tricks."

"Seems like you've got some things to learn, punk. Now, where were we?" Bucky asks with a grin, challenging a Cheshire cat as he wriggles his fingers in Peter's face before focusing on the teen's stomach. 

"No, nohohoo, Bucky pleahesehe, anywhere but there!" begins the teen to plead, tugging at his captured wrists, lifting his head, and trying to see what the man was doing. Bucky grins.

"You want me to try a different spot? Sure."

"NO! Thatahat's not what I mea-AHAHAHAH STOHOP! YOu know thahahat's nhohot whahat I meant! You ahahre suhhuch ahahahan. Suhuch ahahan-NO! DOHOHON'T!"

Peter's legs hammer down on the couch behind Bucky's back. The ex-assassin worries for a short moment if the furniture would withstand the constant abuse of a spider-kid kicking his legs around uselessly. His focus is back on Peter when he hears a high-pitched squeal escape the teen before a wave of hysterical cackling fills the room. Bucky raises an eyebrow at the reaction, concluding that he found the second worst spot on the teen. His right hand hovers between Peter's armpit and highest rips, fingers digging into the place with vigor. 

"I'm almost convinced you told me the truth about being ticklish."

"Almohohohst? Whahahat do yohohu mean almost?"

Bucky stops tickling, eyes trained on the red-faced teen who tries catching his breath, body shaking when occasional after-giggle slips past his lips. 

"Just saying, when I do this," he pinches Peter's hipbones, earning a full-body jump and a cackle, "or this," Bucky claws his free hand between Peter's ribs and let his fingers skim over the space between the bones to send the teen back into a high-pitched giggle fit, "I would say you are ticklish."

"Are you kidding me?" asks Peter. He wears a bewildered expression. "I've told you from the beginning, I'm ticklish!"

"You could have been lying," retorts Bucky. 

"Are you seriously not believing me anymore because of earlier?" asks Peter. The man had another teasing remark already sitting on the tip of his tongue but halted as he caught something akin to hurt playing on the teen's face. Bucky feels thrown off. He knew he should do something, but looking at Peter's face and seeing the wounded expression, he caught himself out of depth for a second time that day. That's why he needs Steve. Steve is better at this kind of stuff. 

Peter is still looking at him, but as the man above him doesn't answer, the younger man's expression turns hard. Bucky's eyes widen as he gets shoved off, unable to withstand the power behind the thin arms that were now easily pulled out of his grasp. It seems that the spider-kid had his full powers back in play. Watching the kid silently collect his belongings, Bucky blinks slowly before getting a hold of himself. As Peter was about to walk out, he called after him.

"Peter, please wait!"

Whatever the teen heard in his voice, it had to be convincing enough for him to stop in his tracks and turn around to send him a questioning look, daring him to give a good explanation. 

"Can we sit down and talk about this?"

Bucky nods at the couch. There is a spark of hesitancy flickering on Peter's features, and the teen is about to open his mouth to answer when Steve walks into the room. Steve glances at his friend standing behind the couch. Something must have happened for Bucky, who looked troubled with his eyebrows pinched into a frown, and Peter, the latter holding his wet-dripping clothes in his arms, wearing an expression far from the cheerful smile Steve is used to seeing on his face. 

"I made you some tea, Peter. Would you like to sit down with us?"

Steve watches Peter throw a glance at Bucky, the latter having not moved from his position behind the couch before letting out a small sigh that Steve wasn't sure he was supposed to hear.

"Okay," mumbled Peter, sounding defeated, but walks back to the couch, leaving his wet clothes on the floor next to the couch table. 

Steve throws Bucky a questioning glance before putting the tray on the table and handing Peter a cup of tea. 

"I also found these," Steve said and pulled a bundle of fuzzy Captain America-themed socks out of his pants pocket, letting them drop on Peter's lap.

"Nice try, Steve, but I won't wear these around the tower. I like the lab privileges."

"Could have worked," says Steve and slaps his knee in faux disappointment to lighten up the mood. Peter's lip twitches at the reaction before he takes a small sip of his tea. "It's good. Thank you, Steve."

"I'm happy to hear that, Peter."

While Peter takes another gulp of his softly steaming mud, Steve subtly nods towards Peter, telling Bucky to fix whatever he has done. Bucky rolls his eyes but gingerly sets his cup of tea down and leans his forearms on his knees before addressing the teen sitting between them.

"Peter, I want to apologize. I was worried about you earlier, but I wouldn't stop believing you because of what happened, even if I were still upset about it. I meant to tease you a little, but I overdid it. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings or make you believe I don't trust your words. I'm sorry." 

Bucky glances at Peter, who sits still, looking at the cup in his hands with a thoughtful look. "I guess I should have told you about this earlier," began the teen, cutting both soldiers off when they opened their mouths to protest. "I trust you to have my back. It's not like I believe you would use that information against me. We are a team, after all," Bucky watches Peter's thumb absentmindedly running along the edge of his cup, halting as the teen continues. "I guess I was too embarrassed to tell you."

"Embarrassed?" asks Steve, head tilted to the side in confusion. Peter nods before directing his eyes at him, a shy smile tugging on his lips.

"Isn't it kinda silly? I've got all these powers through the spider bite altering my DNA, but when it gets too cold, I become fatigued. Meanwhile, you are this strong, and the cold doesn't bother you two.

 

I know you can't compare the changes of the serum with my enhancements, but sometimes I think about it and, you know, feel kinda useless." 

Steve hums, fingers drumming against his leg as he thinks about Peter's words. Before he comes to voice his thoughts, a voice on his right beats him to it. Bucky's eyes are trained on the young vigilante sitting between them. 

"You will never be able to beat that flaw of your powers, but stressing about it will get you nowhere." Steve frowns at the harsh words, but when he glances at Peter, he finds him paying close attention to every one of Bucky's words. The latter puts his hand over Peter's knees, hovering there before putting it down, giving it a short squeeze. "Knowing your flaws is one of your biggest strengths. Just keep that in mind." 

Peter sends the man a soft smile. 

"Thanks, Bucky."

Bucky glances at him from the side, the corner of his lip tugged upwards. 

"Don't mention it, punk."

[comfycuddles]

You know what I think...

It's time we start talking about Peter Capaldi.

When we talk about Doctor Who and our favourite modern doctors, we always go round and round in the same circles:

"David Tennant is the greatest Doctor!"

"No way! Matt Smith brought this goofy nature to the character, while maintaining the Doctor's eternal darkness!"

"Please! Nine was funny and sassy and just overall great. He deserved more credit. Eccelston was the best Doctor!"

And sometimes even a:

"I think that although she had to endure poor writing, a female Doctor was refreshing!"

I agree with this of course, and every Doctor brings something with them, you know who we don't post enough about? Or even generally talk about enough?

Peter fucking Capaldi. I seriously think he might be one of the most underrated Doctors of the modern era and It's a WASTE.

From the very beginning he was just amazing. "Do you know how to fly this thing?" ICONIC. His first episode was pure crack in the very best way. (The way he flirted with the dinosaur, anybody?)

Capaldi had this amazing connection with Jenna as Clara (Although I am a Clara stan idc so I might be a little biased about that) and their dynamic was so much fun to watch.

Not unlike David Tennant Peter is such a fan of the show. (As was confirmed by Jenna) But is also nice about it too. He doesn't go around just correcting everyone, but he wants everyone to know what an amazing show it is and wants people to love it just as much as he does.

Also 12 was so iconic??? Fighting fucking Robin Hood with a spoon? Awesome! Rolling into the middle ages on a fucking tank, calling people "Dude", making puns and dumb jokes and above else SLAYING that guitar?! Yes! A thousands times Yes! Just the best space grandpa ever!

Capaldi is so unhinged and has this chaotic energy while still appearing as the sanest person in the room. Just look up some stories about him fucking around on the set.

It was also very refreshing to see an older Doctor. I mean, I think Capaldi wad the oldest guy to play the Doctor since HARTNELL. He still had this youthful energy, but he just seemed so DONE with everyones bullshit. 12 handled things with a certain maturity that I kinda loved.

Like he has life experience, he KNOWS what his actions will cause and that's GOOD to see of the Doctor. And at the same time he's also forgiving himself for all the things he's done, which is even BETTER.

And don't even talk to me about his relationship with his companions and Missy. First of all the latter gives me life. And his relationship with Bill was so good y'all. I mean, he punched a racist in the face for her. (ICON!!!!) And were just adorable.

And my final point, the biggest point: Peter Capaldi is just an AMAZING actor. We all love "Heaven sent" and It's just the greatest episode EVER and this is party because Moffat wrote it so beautifully, but also because of Capaldi's Jaw dropping performance!!! If he wasn't SUCH an amazing actor the episode would have never worked. And I am certain of this fact. He did that y'all! HE. DID. THAT.

Capaldi gave some of the best speeches and performances in Doctor Who history. And everyone sleeps on it, and I say "No more!" Also his line. "Do you think I care for you so little that betraying me would make a difference?" DONE, SOBBING ON THE DAMN FLOOR. I need to say with this that I'm NOT an emotional person at all. But somehow that line hit me right in the feels and never stopped.

So yeah

Eccelston was hilarious and fun and amazing

David was awesome and I think It's definitely deserved that he goes down in history as one of the greatest Doctors.

Matt had some heartwrenging moments that I'll never get over, was as cool as bowties and just lovely

And Jody was unique and ADORABLE!

But y'all are SLEEPING on Peter Capaldi and 12 and that is SO undeserved.

Mister Capaldi Sir, if you ever see this, (You probably won't, but that's okay. I hope it does though) just know, that I love and adore you so much and think you are one of the greatest actors and human beings in the history of everything. And you DESERVE to know that. I will forever be proud to say that 12 that is my favourite Doctor of all time. And I say this without half a doubt in my mind. I'm a proud Peter Capaldi stan until the end of time. And just know that I and so many more people along with me have so much LOVE for you. (Most of us not in a creepy way though) and you are CRIMINALLY underrated.

Thank you so much for reading my rant.

This has been a Peter Capaldi/12th Doctor appreciation post. And I invite you to reblog this and show your love for the best Doctor. Only positivity though, stay nice.

[respectthepetty]

Pit Babe Colors Ep. 6

I'm challenging myself with this show and seeing how good my color skills really are, so I'm doing my normal thing of watching it double-speed on mute, but now, the captions are off also. It's just colors and vibes here.

I found out Charlie and Way's superpowers last week from the tags on my post, so let's pray those blue gloves Babe just gave Charlie stop him from -redacted- and lying.

Wait a minute! I thought that was a flashback. Barbara is racing too?! Now, I'm confused about the plot because I thought the team needed to fill Babe's spot, but . . . they need a third racer? Is this you rethinking the plot, Barbara? Or did your special superpowers heal you already and you're thinking about letting Charlie win? But you didn't have superpowers last week. What is happening?

Dean, I know you are going to screw everyone over because you now have to race Charles AND Barbara, but you are already sitting in the red. Damn, sir. No need to spoil the plot development.

Babe won, so what was with all those *looks* from him? And I want to hate Way, but he is the only one who is feeling like me as Charlie's RED IS EXPOSED! Dean, go ruin everyone's life. You have my permission.

Alan, you have tattoos, and you are the only man I trust in life and love, so I'm gonna ignore these red gloves. Not every show can be Wandee Goodday and get color-coded boxing gloves.

Charles wore Babe's black in episode three after sleeping with Babe, then Babe got the picture of Charles getting into the red car. I want to trust Charles and this color exchange, BUT HE IS LYING!

I wish the cards could have stayed in Thai. I did not need to know Alan was apologizing to Jeffrey as he sits there in blue, with that red bag and red smoothie (it's pink, but I'm seeing red, dang it!). Don't throw out those cards, Alan. Jeffrey is gonna need them when he has to apologize for LYING all this time!

CHARLES AND THAT DAMN RED!

Barbie. Stuck between the blue and red. He deserves better.

You know what makes a sky look purple like that? Blue and red. Which is really odd, SINCE BOTH OF YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO BE BLUE, CHARLES!

It's turning pink! STOP HURTING MY FEELINGS!

No. Putting Barbie in glasses will not make up for the pain I just suffered.

To go from that locker room scene to Waymond looking so sad only for PETER TO BE WATCHING HIM IN THE PINK TOO! I knew they were gonna be an item, but Peter, my man, have you loved Waymond for a while?! Did you know him before you shook his hand and that's why you hesitated? Patricia, I have questions!

Yellow is my favorite color, but, Sonic, why can't you wear blue? I know you like North. You are protecting him right now. But just wear more blue beyond that small stripe on your shirt, so I can trust you!

Jeffrey is back in the red, Alan. Get out now or he'll take you "home" aka Big Red's house that he doesn't know how to get to without the GPS because it's hard for liars to keep track of all their lies.

I won't be crazy and mention the red house showing through the window behind Charles. No. Never.

What do you see, Jeffrey?! That your roommate is gonna break Barbie's heart?!

My God, this episode is laying it on thick with Charles constantly in the red. I get it! He is lying! I KNOW!

Waymond just had to remind me his ass is red too. You're lucky Peter has been in love with you for a minute apparently because I like Peter. But you, sir, are on thin ice.

Did Charles post that picture?! (Sonic, wear blue damnit!)

Barbara, you're fucked up. It's clear that Waymond loves you, and you pull stunts like this. Rude. Selfish. Let the boy brood in peace. You make me feel bad for him, and I don't want to feel bad for him because I know his superpower now, and he keeps trying to touch you.

Every now and then, the show must remind me that Barbara was originally red.

Are you conflicted, Waymond? Because this purple is telling tales that you are in-between the two. Where do you stand, Waynette? Blue or red? TELL ME RIGHT NOW!

Wait a minute!

Before he was a Slut for Christ, Barbara gave you the steering wheel necklace?!

Fuck! Waymond, no! Turn away from the red, bruv! DON'T GO FULL DARK SIDE!

PETER LOVES YOU!

But eff Charles!

Jeffrey has red on again. Someone is dead under that car, so since he is talking to Charles and there are only two drivers now (is Babe still driving or no?), I'm hoping he saw Charles dead and not Waymond. Can I get a Christmas miracle?!

KIMBERLY, MY BELOVED! Please go collect your husband, Kenta, and fuck Big Red up!

In short,

I'm conflicted about Waymond.

I want to know how long Peter has loved Waymond.

I need more of the Kardashians, Kimberly and Kenta.

I still hate Charles because the show is constantly telling me he is red.

I'm happy there was no Whiny Winifred.

I'm okay if Dean messes up everyone's day.

I need Jeffrey to grovel to Alan when his time comes.

[thestarkerisobvious]

What No One Tells You About The End Of The World

What No One Tells You About The End Of The World 

Is

…you still have to eat once in a while.  You still have to shit.  You still have to lay down and sleep and then, eventually, you have to get up the next day.  You think you will just stay in bed forever - but I promise you can't.  You will have to get up.  You’ll get bored.  You’ll realize you haven’t bathed in a while.  And eventually, you’ll have to eat.

At least he has something to eat.  Peter reminds himself, sometimes, that he still has electricity and hot and cold running water.  He may live completely alone in a world where the human race has forgotten his name, but at least he has something to eat, and someone to eat with.  Not everyone does.

And Peter does have someone to eat with.  And someone who, on occasions, asks him if he’s eaten today.  Asked if he was getting enough rest.  “Not that I’m one to judge,” that someone would joke mildly, and then some conversation about night-owls and insomnia would follow, but still.  It was nice to be asked.  Such a tiny little kindness that really hit home when the whole planet has magically forgotten your existence.  

Although his older lover might be amused if Peter ever described him as “kind.”  “Infuriating” would be more accurate.  “Maddening.”  Both by day and by night.  Maddening by day (that ego was NOT an act, and sometimes difficult to live with behind closed doors.)  Maddening by night (that scrape of beard on the back of his neck, making Peter crazy…)

What no one tells you about the end of the world is that you will still wake up with morning wood. And that maybe… even though you are sure you don’t deserve it… maybe you still get to feel good.  Sometimes.

(And sometimes… maybe  more than just good.  Maybe a lot more than good.  Like when he strongarms you to face the wall and presses it in inch by inch, forcing you to take it slow, forcing you to wait.  You’re stronger than him, obviously, it’s not like he’s wearing all his fancy clothes right now but how are you going to fight him?  Not when your cock is in his expert hand and the scrape of that damn beard against your neck is making you insane…)

He apologizes for being an asshole sometimes.

Which… kind of hurts.  Because he never apologizes to the world for being himself… he just is.  That’s what Peter admires about him.  He is completely and utterly himself… doesn’t seem to doubt himself.  Not like Peter at all…

(Also, he never referred to himself as an asshole until they went to bed together.)

Not that Peter can complain.  Having this older man for a lover… this older, arrogant, infuriating man… well…

It gets lonely at the end of the world.  Especially when you’re surrounded by people walking past you, walking to and from work every day and every night, not knowing that your world just ended.  You think you won’t need companionship after your whole world falls apart but, oddly, you do.  Existence has ended, but you’re still human.  Apocalypse is now and passed, but it’s still good to have a conversation about that crazy thing you saw on the street today.

And if you have that conversation while laying side by side in this ridiculous bed, letting the sweat dry off your bodies as you catch your breath and marvel at what you’ve just created together, well…

…who knew you could still laugh after the world has ended?

Laugh, or chuckle, or maybe roll your eyes or maybe even growl a little in frustration at the one man in the world who knows your name.  Maybe even fight a little… maybe even quarrel.  You think you don’t care about anything any more… what else is there to care about at the end of the world?  But you are still a human being.  You still have edges.  And sometimes yours bark up against his and you feel yourself bristling…

…but all of that melts away at when Peter finds himself melting in that man’s iron arms.

His lover is an older man  - he never lets Peter forget it - and he loves to point out that, as an older man he is just not as interested in his own climax as he is in other things.  Peter’s lover is a scientist at heart.  And he is often at night he seems more interested in certain scientific experiments on Peter’s willing body than he is anything else. 

How many times can Peter come in one evening?  How long can he wait, held gaping there on that silver razor edge, waiting for release?  

Who knew, here at the end of the world, that you could still be surprised?

And so Peter does just that.  Gets up in the morning.  Eats.  Shaves.  Shits.  Teases his lover gently about how long he spends looking in the mirror every morning, meticulously plucking his face to maintain that signature facial hair.  There’s more and more gray appearing in that hair now than ever before, but Peter just uses the term “silver fox” and kisses his lover before going out into the world.  Out into the world to try to find some kind of meaningful thing to do.  Then comes home (he gets to think of it as “home” now - that is such a relief) and lets his older lover take control again.

And you might as well.  Let him take your jaw in an iron grip and turn your head back for a demanding kiss as he slowly moves inside you… holding your breath in hopes to hear those tiny sounds that he makes, those noises that mean he can’t hold back much longer.  No matter how much he brags about not caring about his own climax.  There, on the edge, if you can keep from keening and begging, you can hear him too.  Those sounds he makes when he’s no longer able to remain dignified…

And that's when you realize the hard ugly truth - the world has ended, but you are still alive.  And you DO have a few blessings to count.  You have a place to sleep.  You have hot and cold running water, electricity, and food to get out of bed for.

And someone to go to bed with.

Someone you are actually starting to care about.

And that is the problem.

Because, much to your surprise, here at the end of the world, you are not alone.  And now you’re almost feeling like you might want to get up in the morning?   like you might want to go out into the world and see what’s in it? because you know when you get home at the end of the day, there will be someone to… to talk to about it?

And yes, okay, that someone is a little hard to live with… yes okay maybe he is the best in his field and maybe it isn’t pride if you know you are the best but still…

But maybe… maybe that man is being a little different now.  Maybe he’s making a lot more references to things that happened “before you were born” or even “long before you were born”  which you KNOW is a subtle way of reminding you that the gulf between your ages is huge, and it won't exactly get smaller over time.   

But there’s no point in thinking about the future.  Why think about the future when the world has already ended?

And maybe that's the key to it all.  There is no future.  There is no past…

…okay there is a past.  There is a whole hell of a lot of past… but now days it feels, to Peter, like it all happened to someone else.  Some other kid, someone he had been close to.   Someone who also had lego sets and also had one close friend that shared his obsession.  Some other kid who got the quiet anti-social girl to become his best friend and share a million crazy life experiences, including that first kiss, with each other.  Some other person that saved the  world alongside Tony Stark.  

Some other person that watched him die.

That other kid would never have… well he certainly would have dared to go to 177A Bleecker Street and demand to talk to Stephen Strange.  He would have done that.  When he just couldn’t take it any more.  Couldn’t stand to live in a world that had no idea who he was.  That kid would have dared to explain it all to Stephen Strange.  That other kid might have even accepted the apology, and offer of accommodation, from Steven Strange.  

But would that other kid have gone to bed with Stephen Strange??  Would he have even taken that risk?

But he did.  THIS Peter Parker did.  This Peter Parker had taken that risk because, let's face it, what else did he have left to lose?  

And now, whatever else Peter had, he had another man to talk about the End Of The World With.  Another man who, kind of, understood.

Another man who just might have some good advice.

“Look out there, kid,” he said one evening, bringing Peter, clad only in his boxers, to that large ornate archaic window at the far end of Stephen’s large ornate archaic bedroom.  The window of the Sanctum Sanctorum  was currently looking out over the street of Hong Kong, not Greenwich Village, but still, Peter got the point.

“The world ended out there, too.  I guarantee you - someone out there on that street is watching the people walk by hating them.  How can they keep walking, how can they keep going back and forth, how can they keep going to work?  Don’t they know it’s the end of the world?  I guarantee you’re looking down on the end of the world right now.

“The world ends for people every single day…” Stephen was murmuring now.  He was standing close behind Peter, his strong hands on Peter’s hips.  Peter resisted the urge to close the distance between them, to press his ass against Stephen’s erection, to distract him and end this conversation.  It wouldn’t be the first time, certainly.  Sometimes a cold part of Peter complained that he wanted Stephen Strange for distraction, NOT for advice.

“But you, you keep going out there.  You  KEEP going out there and you KEEP helping other people.  Because you know the truth.

“What no one tells you about the end of the world is that - enhanced or not - magic or not - special or not - 

“You are still human.”

“And humans keep going.”

   amazing moodboards by @mrstarksbaby

------------------------

This has been a #MrStarksBabyIsObvious production. Follow the tag #MrStarksBabyIsObvious Production to see what else we've cooked up together.

[flowerpotmage]

Tight Grip, Broken Dam (6)

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You don’t question it anymore, when Miguel appears in your bed at night. He’s not there for sex, no, you’ve never even kissed—though you would be lying if you said you weren’t open to the idea of kissing him. He’s there for comfort. For rest. If only it could stay so simple.

Pair: Miguel O'Hara & GN!Reader

Notes: for series: slow burn, ambiguous relationship, found family dynamics, reader is in their late 20s. for chapter: miguel being... well. if you're here you're familiar with his shit. references to offscreen deaths. panic attacks and grief

Word Count: 3.5k

Read this chapter on Ao3 here. If you like my work, please consider leaving kudos there as well! You do not need an account to do so.

Author's Note: hiii!! you must be thinking "wtf, it's not monday/sunday where tumblr user flowerpotmage is?" and you'd be correct! i'm posting this chapter on my sunday before my night shift, as i'll be away from my laptop on monday/tuesday while i visit my mom.

i'm a little nervous about this chapter for some reason, so i rly rly hope you like it <3

Miguel does not think he’s catastrophizing.

He’s sure that Jess would disagree, if he confided in her what he was thinking. Scratch that, he knows she would if she knew any of what he was doing.

Peter probably would, too. Shocking Peter. If Miguel knew how many shocking Peter Parkers he’d have to deal with on a day to day basis he probably would have thought twice about inventing the damn multiversal watch.

So, as of now, Lyla is the only one saying anything about his behavior. She’s the only one who knows.

“I think you’re catastrophizing, boss.”

“I am not.”

“And I think you owe them an apology.”

Miguel doesn't disagree, but... “What do you know, Lyla? You’re a LYrate Lifeform Approximation.”

“A very good one with a deep understanding of human relationships and emotions since you lifted me out of being locked to your apartment and got me that upgrade from your old friend, Miguel.”

He huffs.

“I think you're self sabotaging out of a PTSD induced fear of loss.”

“Dios mío, Lyla, okay, will you just let me out of this damn bathroom?!”

Lyla does let him out, eventually (despite his growls of “Vete a la chingada!” when she initially refused), but it doesn't mean she leaves him alone. It's not that she keeps pestering him directly on the subject, but rather that she pokes at it around the edges, a toothpick testing the crust of bread in the oven. Little comments about how you would have been the perfect backup for this or that anomaly event, (“They’re benched until they’re healed, do not ping them.”) or randomly wondering aloud what you might be up to when he’s in the kitchen rinsing a plate (that immediately breaks under his abruptly tightened grip).

And his sleep is terrible. It's been a week and a half since he stepped foot in your dimension, longer since—

He tries not to think about it.

“You know, I can think of something that would help with that,” Lyla practically taunts him late at night when he's trying in vain to relax enough to find sleep

“No.”

The thing is, he shouldn't have gotten so used to it in the first place. Shouldn't have become dependent on you for a good night's sleep. Because how shocking embarrassing, crawling into your comrade’s bed like a child who can’t sleep without their parents.

But it helped. And Miguel had never been the best with impulse control.

Dana was proof enough of that, even before everything changed.

And now Gabriella, too.

He lets his mind wander to her, far more willing to linger on the ache of grief and well-deserved guilt than any fresh hurt. A reminder of why he does the work he does, validation for why he keeps everything where it is, why he tries not to let the other Spiders get too close.

He’s royally shocked that last one up, that's for sure.

You hear about the new Miguel before you see him from small group passing you in the hallway where you’re waiting to ambush Peter and chew him out for yesterday’s antics. Secretly, you’re also there because you're curious about this other Miguel and want to get a look at him when he arrives, mostly because of your Miguel having been so firmly against you joining the recruiting team.

So you’re waiting, casually, just past the opening where the lobby opens out into the larger HQ, when you overhear them.

“He’s so much friendlier,” comes one Spider-Woman’s hushed voice.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen our Miguel smile so much,” a Spider-Man replies. “Even if it is with closed lips.”

They pass by, off to wherever they’re headed, and then you hear Peter’s voice approaching just around the corner.

“Yeah, whoever designed the place had a real one for architecture–”

You push yourself off the wall, turning on the ball of your foot to stand in the doorway and block his path.

“Peter.” You greet him with a raised eyebrow and crossed arms, feet planted shoulder-width apart. You vaguely register Jessica Drew and the very, very tall familiar figure beside her, but you have your sights forcibly fixed firmly on Peter for now.

Play it cool.

“Oh, there’s Garden-Spider!”

“It’s just Spider,” you suppress a smile, rolling your eyes. “He likes to call me that because I have so many pla…” You turn your gaze to the new Miguel, voice dying in your throat.

The first thing you notice about the new Miguel is how similar—no, nearly identical he looks to the one you already know. His hair is slightly different, a lock of it falling across his forehead instead of pushed back. His suit is darker, more matte and black instead of blue, and he’s wearing sunglasses even though you're all indoors.

But none of that is what killed your sentence dead in its tracks. Because the second thing you notice is how when he sees you, he looks like he’s encountered a ghost.

Peter, of course, goes to introduce you two, waving off your comment about his nickname for you. “New Miguel, this is–”

New Miguel whispers your name in what can only be utter disbelief.

“Oh boy,” Jess says.

“Um,” you say dumbly, the confidence in your posture going a bit slack.

To his credit, the new Miguel seems to pull himself together fairly quickly. He closes his mouth, and you recognize a familiar twitch in his jaw muscle just before his throat bobs in a nervous swallow.

“Sorry,” he says. “I just—didn’t expect…” he gives an apologetic, borderline sheepishly wry smile, and you see a glint of sharp teeth—of fangs—and suddenly you understand his slight mumbling, why he doesn’t open his mouth too wide. “Figures that there’d be a version of you that’s the hero out here in the multiverse.”

You give a nervous, forgiving smile and hold out your hand. “Sorry. Earth-7723,” you introduce yourself.

He looks at your hand, eyes glancing back up at you behind his tinted glasses before he accepts it with his own.

“Miguel, but I’m guessing you already know the other me I’m hearing about. Earth-209.”

“Earth-209 in the year 2099,” you quip. “Fun.”

He lets loose the barest chuckle, more of an amused huff really, as if the tension in his body won’t let him laugh properly. If you weren’t so familiar with your Miguel’s body language you probably wouldn’t have even noticed. It feels strange, being able to read a complete stranger so well. You wonder if he’s having the same experience, and how well he knows the you from Earth-209—because clearly he does know another version of you—and you also wonder if it’s as strange for him as it is for you to see such a familiar face on a stranger.

“Yeah,” he agrees, letting go of your hand; his own falls to his side. “Very fun.”

“We should get you to the Boss’s lab and introduce you,” Peter says after glancing between the two of you.

Jess nods. “I agree. You probably have questions.”

“You’re not off the hook,” you say to Peter with a pointed finger, trying to dredge back up your earlier determined mischief, doing your best to set aside the dizzy surrealism and unbalanced feeling from the brief interaction with Miguel 209.

“What did I ever do to you?” Peter says as the group begins to pass.

“Oh, don’t play innocent after that stunt yesterday.”

“What stunt?” Jess asks, raising an eyebrow, starting to smile.

“Oh, he knows.” You mirror her expression with your own raised eyebrow.

“Nope, I don’t. Bye!” Peter waves, hurrying the group along.

“No, I wanna know what's got Garden-Spider out for revenge,” Jess says even as she walks off with the two men, giving you a wave and a smile.

You watch them go, your arms now more wrapped around your middle than crossed. The new Miguel, Miguel 209, turns to look at you over his shoulder like he needs to check that you’re real.

You give him your own small smile and lift a hand in your own little farewell wave—one that he returns with a matching and equally small smile and the ghost of something sad in his brow as he turns back to watch where he’s walking.

The circumstances under which you had met your Miguel were much different. Part of your story was actually quite similar to Gwen’s, and many other Spider-People: hiding your identity from those you love, balancing the two worlds until one encroached on the other, a full scale incursion that ended in more than one life ruined and at least one snuffed out. An unavoidable event by all accounts, according to Miguel’s theory of canon events and every article about grief and guilt and control that you’ve read since.

It turns out that when you have great power, and a great deal of self-appointed responsibility, the guilt stage is hardest to overcome.

Then your dimension had its first anomaly. A copper steam-powered Rhino had wreaked a path of destruction through the underground subway. It was a miracle that nobody was killed. Well, more accurately it was because of him that people were able to walk away with their lives.

Once the scene had cleared, the panic hit you, raw and fresh as the cracked rubble. Damaged walls brought to mind an image of an entirely different event featuring more structural damage and death. As a result, when he went looking for the Spider he had helped in order to invite them to join his effort to keep the worlds intact, he found you where you were crouched behind a cracked pillar. Your knees were to your chest, your head in your hands, and your breath ragged.

“Hey,” he said, voice low as he knelt on one knee in front of you, barely more than a foot and a half away. “It’s okay. You did it.”

You looked up at him, your hands still cradled your head and your eyes now wide under your mask.

He had a hand held out to you, stretched out in an offer to help with standing up.

You glanced at it, at him, back at the hand. With a sharp movement that seemed to startle even his apparently cool and collected self, your hand darted out and grasped his, squeezing tight. He began to stand. You shook your head, and he froze.

“Sorry,” you managed to gasp out. “I ju—“ a desperate gasp for air interrupted your words, but you managed to continue: “I just need a second.”

He settled back down onto his knee. His hand adjusted to hold yours more gently.

“Breathe,” he said gently.

You did. And then you said: “You have a cool suit. What’s your deal?”

“I— what?”

“Your— your suit,” you said with a shaky, breathy laugh. “I like it.”

He hummed, a quiet thoughtful sound. “Thank you.”

“What’s your deal?” You asked again. “You’re… like me. But I haven’t seen you before.”

Then he gently squeezed your hand, letting go to rest his arm on his knee.

“I’m from another dimension.”

You linger around Earth-928, wandering and pacing the criss-crossed beams of Spider-HQ, exchanging polite hellos with other Spider-People.

Word about the new Miguel—Miguel-209—the one you can only refer to with clarifiers in your head because he’s not your Miguel and you need to differentiate or you’ll feel even more off kilter than you already do, has spread fast.

“I can’t believe there’s going to be another Miguel around.”

“Do you think he’ll co-lead?”

“I wonder how similar they look.”

“I bet he’s just as serious.”

“Do you think he’s as much of a leader type, or nah?”

“I heard he’s just as built–”

You swing up to one of the little used alcoves, a little space that feels like a cozy waiting room or one of those places in that mall you had found yourself in when you visited California as a child, styled with almost too firm armchairs and potted plants that gave the quiet corner the illusion of being shielded from passersby.

That’s where Jess finds you, strolling into the space like her belly has no impact on her.

You offer her a slight smile and a glance in greeting, shifting in your window seat to face her better when she takes a seat across from you, hand resting on her stomach.

“I think you need to talk to Miguel.”

“Which one?” you can’t help it, your mouth quirking up at the corners.

She chuckles. “Well, probably both at some point. But I’d give the new one some time to… adjust.”

You nod, then nod again at her belly. “Looks like everything’s still going well?”

She nods, smiling. “Last check up went great. Ten fingers and toes, two eyes, the whole nine yards.” (You hold back the impulse to quip ‘Wow, that’s a big baby.’) She pauses, and then sighs. “Listen. I’m sorry about the meeting yesterday.” When you look at her with a questioning frown, she elaborates: “Peter told me you hadn’t gotten the schedule.”

You look down, picking at nonexistent dirt on your suit. This one is new, a remake after your previous one had gotten shredded in the road-rash incident. “It’s fine, really. Miguel probably assumed I was still on… medical leave.” The last two words come out more bitter than you had intended.

Jess just watches you. “Your hands doing okay?”

You shift slightly, pulling off your gloves to present your palms to her, and she leans forward to look properly. The skin still has a slight irregular shine from the fresh scars, but only if you know what to look for.

“Looking good,” she says, leaning back into her seat.

“Do you wanna get some food?” you blurt.

She raises an eyebrow, and then laughs in pleasant surprise. “Sure.”

You’re closer to Peter than you are to Jess, but it’s still nice to spend time with her outside of meetings and anomaly wrangling. She’s telling the story of when she first met Gwen.

“I can’t believe she called him ‘Dark Garfield,’” you laugh. “How have I not heard about this before?”

Jess laughs and shakes her head, adjusting her grip on her burger. “I’m as surprised as you are. I guess Gwen tries not to brag, or something.”

You nod. “She’s a great kid.” You sigh. “I worry about her sometimes, honestly. I can’t imagine being Spider-Woman, or man, or any of it, so young.”

Jess sombers. “Yeah. I know what you mean.”

Miguel wonders how all the Peters do this, how they’ve all adjusted to being surrounded by alternate versions of themselves when it felt so strange for him just to be face to face with one of his own. It’s not that he didn’t know, not that he wasn’t aware of the other versions of himself in the multiverse. 

He just didn’t expect to actually come face to face with one of his variants like this. One that was living. One that was also Spider-Man.

Miguel-209 had just left the lab with Peter following the latter's offer of a tour, leaving him alone in his lab with Lyla. He stands, hands braced against the console, head hanging low from his shoulders.

He pretends his chest doesn't feel tight.

“Do you think any other Miguels also-?”

“Lyla, please,” he cuts her off.

For once, she listens, falling silent.

Miguel takes a deep breath, pushing himself up on the exhale. “Did you add it to his file?”

“I did.”

Miguel nods. “Lock it.”

He doesn’t look at Lyla when she crosses her arms, creasing her brows under the pink glasses.

“It’s locked.”

He nods again, turning away further. One arm crosses over his chest, and much like when he paced the corner of the medical room a week ago, his elbow rests on his crossed arm and his fingers rest on his lips.

“They’re going to find out.”

“I know,” he says. “I know. And they should. But only from him. And I don’t need anyone else…” he trails off, unsure how the sentence ends. “It’s clearly private. For him,” he adds on at the end, gesturing his hand and resting his fingers back on his lips.

“And you trust Jess and Peter not to say anything?”

“Run daily reports,” Miguel says, changing the subject, lowering his arms to perch on his hips.

“You got it, boss.”

It had taken some very light convincing on his part (a portal) to get you to believe his story, and only slightly more after that (basic info on the multiverse and what he was aiming to do) to get you to join the Spider-Society.

Parker had been one of the first to welcome you, eventually dubbing you Garden-Spider when he visited your dimension and saw the greenery of your city, and more specifically, your apartment.

Then you hugged Miguel in his lab.

You still get embarrassed when you remember how the rest started. Another panic attack. More tears. You’d found that person’s shirt in your storage closet, and with nobody to call in your dimension who knew about both your lives, your first thought was him.

So you called. Not to ask for anything really, you’re not even sure why you did it. You suppose, if you think about it, your brain picked him as the most recent example of comfort and sympathy you’d experienced—though in the first month while getting to know him, those wouldn’t have been the words you would pick to describe Miguel O’Hara, even if they were now.

So, in a desperate grab for a lifeline, part of you had reached out before your conscious mind could stop the taps of your fingers.

“Is everything alright?” He asked when he answered, a holo-bust of his suit popping out of your watch.

“I—“ you gasped, trying to speak through your choked lungs. “I—“

“I’ll be right there.”

Not even fifteen seconds later a portal opened in your bedroom and Miguel stepped through. He crouched before you. “Are you injured?”

You shook your head, buried your face into your hands. “Sh-shit, n-no,” you managed to get out, and tried not to look at his thighs and the shape they made where they sat right in your line of sight. “I—Sorry—“

He didn’t say anything more, just moved closer and offered a hand as his mask receded. You nodded, and he rested it on your shoulder, eventually pulling you into a somewhat stiff hug, like he was trying to remember how they worked. Eventually he let go, once your breaths and tears had calmed.

“Can I get you anything?”

“Water,” you’d whispered, beyond mortified now that you had calmed down. “I can-“

But he was already up, leaving your room to find a cup for you. It took a minute, while he figured out your kitchen cabinets, but he returned with what you'd asked for.

“Peter’s right,” he said when he passed the cup into your hands. “You have a lot of plants.”

You laughed, then turned quiet, shy. “Thank you, Miguel. If… if you ever need…”

He nodded. “I appreciate that.”

It surprised both of you that it wasn't long before he called to cash in on your offer.

“Are you… Do you mind returning the favor again?” He asked through your watches, quoting you indirectly.

“Oh, yeah, of course,” you’d replied after a millisecond of surprise. “I can be there in–”

“No. I mean–” he huffed a sigh. “Is it alright if I come there?”

Another second of surprise. “Oh, of course,” you repeated.

“Thank you.”

That happened a few more times, the two of you ‘exchanging favors’ of comfort and rest between regular days around Spider-HQ and missions across the multiverse.

Until one mutually grueling day came around and the exhaustion was too much for even your super-powered bodies, and Miguel had helped you home from a mission.

“Shock, I just–”

“Yeah. I need to fucking lay down,” you’d laughed tiredly, and eased yourself down onto your bed. You didn't even take your suit off; still smeared with soot and grime and a little bit of someone else’s blood.

He chuckled at that, running a hand over his hair. “Yeah.”

By then you had gotten halfway decent at keeping your eyes to yourself, glancing away from the muscles of his arm and the way they moved.

“Come on,” you sighed. You patted the space on the bed next to you, exhausted and already melted into your bed. “You look like you need it too.”

Even with your eyes closed you felt him hesitate. But you left it alone and folded your hands over your stomach, one ankle over the other, letting him decide for himself what he wanted to do.

The soft sound of your floor creaking let you know he was walking around to the other side of your bed. The gentle dip of the mattress let you know when he was sitting, and then the weight next to you accompanied by the sound of fabric told you that he had laid down by your side.

His quiet sigh when he had gotten comfortable told you that he had, in fact, needed it too.

That was the best night’s sleep you’d had in months.

It was for him too.

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[aanoia]

can I request a Remus Lupin imagine to Lover by Taylor Swift

happy to oblige, hope you love it!

Lover

Remus Lupin x reader words; 1,428 song; Lover by T Swizzle warnings; none i dont think my masterlist hehehe he's so cute i'm gonna be so fr with y'all, writing is the only thing keeping me from having a big mental breakdown so smiles :) if you love a song, the marauders, and my writing, request a song fic and your wish shall be my command. ENJOYYY

We could leave the Christmas lights up 'til January

And this is our place, we make the rules

“It’s closer to Easter than it is Christmas, why is your tree still up?” Lily asked, eyeing our cat who was playing with the bells hanging on the lower branches of the Christmas tree.

“Because Christmas is superior and deserves recognition all year.” I explained, glancing at my boyfriend who laughed with his friends. “And it makes Remus happy.”

And there's a dazzling haze, a mysterious way about you dear

Have I known you 20 seconds or 20 years?

“Oh, and I got you multiple candles because I know how much anxiety you get burning candles because you don’t wanna “waste” them, so I bought like, five so you didn't have to worry about that.” Remus said as he unpacked the grocery sack, pulling out the assortment of candles he bought.

I looked at Remus with a lovesick smile, “I’ve never told you about that.” I said quietly and he paused to look me in the eye.

“You didn’t have to. I know you.”

Can I go where you go?

Can we always be this close forever and ever?

“Okay, Moony, are you ready to g- what the fuck?” James said as he walked through our apartment door, Sirius and Peter trailing behind him.

“Oh, wow, Moons, looks like you got a leech.” Sirius commented, walking into the kitchen and raiding our cupboards.

“I was ready, but then she attached herself to me and she won’t let go.” Remus explained, rubbing my back softly as I clung onto him.

“You can’t take him.” I mumbled, my voice being muffled by his shirt and James laughed. “I’m serious, I need him.”

“Actually, I’m Sirius.” Sirius said, walking out of the kitchen with a spoon and a jar of peanut butter.

“Fuck you.” 

Sirius scoffed, “Rude.”

“C’mon, love, it’s only for a weekend.” Remus said and I just held on tighter.

“Nope. I’m a crazy obsessive bitch and you can’t go.”

“At least she’s self aware.” Sirius said as he left the house, stealing our peanut butter.

And ah, take me out, and take me home

You're my, my, my, my

Lover

“Sh, you’re okay now.” I soothed gently as Remus panted, the cuts across his body red and angry. I carefully wiped away dirt and blood and bandaged up his words, all the while talking quietly to him to calm his mind. “It’s all done, Rem, you’re okay.” I whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead, he closed his eyes and almost instantly let sleep take over. I sighed and walked into the living room. “Rough night?” I asked the three boys and they nodded.

“It’s been getting worse lately.” James said, revealing the large cut on his upper arm.

“Well, everything will be alright. Let’s not worry him.”

We could let our friends crash in the living room

This is our place, we make the call

“Take your shoes off on my damn couch, Sirius Black.” I scolded as I walked out of the kitchen, a bowl of popcorn in my hand.

“My bad, your majesty.” he said and took his shoes off, throwing them at my legs.

“I don’t like you.”

“You love me.”

“Nuh uh.”

“Hello, love.” Remus interrupted, grabbing the popcorn from me and placing a kiss on my cheek.

“Hello, Rem.”

“What are we gonna watch?” Peter asked from his fort on the floor and James stuck his head out of it, opening his mouth and signaling Sirius to throw him a piece.

“Ooo!” I said excitedly, turning to Remus who already knew what I was going to suggest. “Can we watch-”

“Love and Pain and the Whole Damn Thing?” We said in sync and I laughed with a nod.

“We’ve watched literally every time we’ve had a slumber party.” James said with a frown and his wife threw a pillow at him.

“It’s a great movie, James.” Lily scolded.

And I'm highly suspicious that everyone who sees you wants you

I've loved you three summers now, honey, but I want 'em all

“Six, oo, seven.” I counted quietly and Remus snorted.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

“Counting, duh.”

“Well, yes, but what are you counting?”

I glanced at Remus, “The amount of people who look at you and do a double take, which obviously means they think you’re cute, which I wouldn’t blame them to be honest.”

“That’s cool. Sucks for them though, yeah?”

“Why?”

Remus paused and grabbed my arm, making me come to a halt. He smiled and pressed a soft kiss to my lips. “Because I’m all yours.”

Can I go where you go?

Can we always be this close forever and ever?

“Y/n, you are the love that came without warning; you had my heart before I could say no.” Remus recited to his friends.

“That is the cheesiest thing on Earth.” Sirius commented but James hit his arm.

“I think she’ll love it, and that makes it even cheesier.” He said with a nod and Remus smiled gently.

And ah, take me out, and take me home (forever and ever)

You're my, my, my, my

Lover

“Will you marry me?” Remus asked, finishing his speech that brought wet tears to my eyes.

“Yes, Rem, yes I will. Of course I will.” I whispered and he put the ring on my finger before standing up and throwing his arms around me. He spun me around in the air and set me down to plant a fat kiss on my lips, joy radiating off him.

Ladies and gentlemen, will you please stand?

With every guitar string scar on my hand

I take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover

“Do you, Y/n, take this man, Remus, to be your lawfully wedded husband?” The priest asked and I smiled at Remus, wiping a stray tear off his cheek.

“I do.”

“And do you, Remus, take this woman, Y/n, to be your lawfully wedded wife?” 

Remus nodded, “I do.”

My heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue

All's well that ends well to end up with you

Swear to be overdramatic and true to my lover

The priest nodded with a smile, “You may kiss the bride.” Whoops and hollers filled the air as our lips met, the loudest coming from Sirius, James, and Peter who were off to the side. I smiled into the kiss, happy to finally be tied to Remus - which also means his best friends - for the rest of our lives.

And you'll save all your dirtiest jokes for me

And at every table, I'll save you a seat, lover

“Y/n/n-” A small voice said and I looked down to see a five year old Harry pulling gently on my dress.

“Ah, my favorite boy.” I said and bent down to pick him up. “How are you, little man?” 

“I good.” He smiled wide, placing a wet kiss on my cheek and I laughed. “Uncle Remmy said to give you a kiss.”

I looked up at my husband who winked at me with a smile, “How kind of him. Can you go tell him it’s almost time for cake?” I said and Harry nodded as I set him down. He immediately began running to Remus as fast as his little legs would let him, an angry expression on his face with his teeth bared and little growls coming from his throat. 

Remus laughed as Harry whispered in his ear. He stood up and immediately made his way over.

“I assume you did not tell Harry that you wanted to meet me in the bedroom?” He said with a smirk and my eyes widened.

“What?!”

Can I go where you go?

Can we always be this close forever and ever?

And ah, take me out, and take me home (forever and ever)

“Ah, Paris, the city of love.” I sighed dreamily and Remus laughed.

“You are my city of love.” He said and I furrowed my brows.

“That makes zero sense.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“It makes sense to me.”

“You’re weird.”

“Are you sure?”

“Extra positive.”

You're my, my, my, my

Oh, you're my, my, my, my

Darling, you're my, my, my, my

I smiled at Remus and looked in his eyes as we laid together on the bed.

“You’re beautiful.” He whispered and my smile grew.

“You’re beautifuller.”

“You’re beautifulest.”

“You’re beautifullerest.”

Remus snorted, “That’s definitely not a word.”

I winked, “I’d beg to differ, Mr. Beautifullerest.”

Lover

taglist (if u wanna be added comment);

@loving-and-dreaming @1lellykins @poetrypirate

[firstfirerebel]

𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕨𝕠𝕞𝕒𝕟

Sumary: You've always been the other woman. Your whole damn life. Always the second choice, and when you finally had hope, it broke into a million pieces.

Pairing: Peter Parker/Spiderman x fem! reader

Warnings: heartbreak, being the second choice (kind of), sad, implied depressions, implied bullying, self-hatred (you are a wonderful person, don't let someone say otherwise 🫶)

Okay, Tom Holland is definitely NOT my type (my type just happens to be the old grumpy black pirate 🫠😂), but he was the only character that came into my mind to this scenario (cause I think in Star Wars this scenario would be either too cliché or unrealistic). And I'm somehow in a phase where I write about characters I'm not into, idk why.

Here you were again. After you've sworn yourself, not to be here again!

By now, you were used to being the second choice of someone. It has been like that since you can remember.

In kindergarten, your best friend preferred to play with another kid and ignored you every day it was there.

In primary school, you didn't fit in any clique. And the kids who did like you had happened to belong to that clique with a mean girl who just couldn't stand you. Those kids seemed to prefer belonging into a group and ignored you as well.

In high school, you hoped things would get better, but no. Instead, you got bullied.

Constantly, people around you gave you the feeling of being unwanted and unnecessary, so you tried your best not to annoy them and just stay quiet. The problem was that your simple presence annoyed them.

So, you did what they wanted. You stayed away from them. Being all alone was so typical by now. Still, you found yourself crying to sleep every night 'cause it hurt so bad.

Changing other people was impossible, but no matter how many times you tried to change yourself, they still found something to despise you more. So, staying in the shadows became easier and less painful. But, hello cliché, then you changed schools and met Peter and Ned, both nerds and idiots to be honest, but they were nice and funny, and your idiots.

At first, you planned not to speak to anyone. In order not to annoy them. But then the first lesson ended, and Peter and Ned introduced themselves to you, offered you to show the school, and even asked if you wanted to have lunch with them. You were shocked. No one has ever been that kind to you, nor has offered you to spend time together.

The few friends you had in the past used you and threw you away once they didn't need you anymore. And of course you thought that it was all your fault.

So it was all new to you. Friends, hanging out, being nice to each other. All of that always seemed to be something for the others and not you. For a long time, you thought your life purpose was to do everything people wanted. Even if you didn't like it.

Your classmates wanted you to stay away, so you did it. Someone wanted help with something, so you helped them. If one wanted to punch something out of anger, you would have been their punching bag. Just so you did something good, something that lowered your sin of being born. If there was a heaven, you believed it wasn't made for you. Hell, you even thought that serial killers were good persons compared to you.

You couldn't remember when you started to despise yourself, but you soon realized that it lowered the pain in you when someone picked on you again. Sounds weird, but that's how it felt. Knowing that there was at least something that you and the others had in common made you happy. You weren't completely opposites cause you, and they hated the same. Yourself. That soul that lived in your body. Everything that had to do with you. Except your family. Poor family, got punished with a daughter like you..., they did not deserve that.

In your head, there were two parts. One was you, and the other one was that girl back in primary school. She constantly told your mind what you did wrong, that you were ungrateful, selfish, not worth to even live, a problem that couldn't be repaired.

But back to Ned and Peter.

You three soon became a trio. Students liked to call you the Golden Trio of Harry Potter. But since Peter preferred Star Wars, he referred you as Anakin, Ahsoka, and Obi Wan. To be honest, you thought the 'Golden Trio' fit more.

You were an introvert who loved books, and you were that type of student who got stressed at 16 points out of 17. Clearly, you were Hermione.

Ned was a bit clumsy but always a faithful friend that you could tell everything. He always asked if he could copy your homework, and he was always hungry like Ron.

So Peter would be Harry. He lost his parents like the boy who lived did. He was clever and knew what he wanted and how to achieve it. And he had a big heart.

At this time, the part of your head that was ruled by the mean girl of primary school was almost completely quiet.

But as always, life had other plans for you.

You didn't want to, but you started to fall for Peter. His sweet and kind nature made your heart melt every single time. The sometimes clumsy and shy behavior did the same to you. It wasn't because he was good-looking. You loved the person inside him. His character and his actions proved that he was a good guy and that he cared for people.

But, of course, he started to talk non-stop about MJ at the same time. The beautiful, cool MJ. You couldn't blame him, though. She was perfect. Her flawless skin, her beautiful curly hair, and her dark eyes.

When you were with Peter and Ned, Peter told you two about how he planned to confess to MJ. Luckily, you were a great actress and smiled even though you wanted to cry.

And then there was that voice again...

𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡 ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢? 𝐿𝑜𝑜𝑘 𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢, 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑑𝑜𝑒𝑠𝑛'𝑡 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑣𝑒 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑠!

Her. It was her voice again...

After school ended, you couldn't just hang out with your friends like normal. You felt pity for them. Someone like you being their friend? Those two were just too polite to tell you that they couldn't stand your guts. So you said that you had an appointment and went for a walk.

How selfish of you. Ruining their lifes so you didn't have to feel so alone! Before you could stop it, you felt tears running down your cheeks.

But suddenly, there was a loud groan, and a huge stone creature was breaking houses in the streets. You just stared at it, around you all citizens screamed and ran away, but you didn't move an inch.

If he would crash you, everything would be over...

All the pain would just fade away!

But before the monster could hurt you, you were pulled off the ground by a man in a red spider suit. It was Spiderman, you knew him from the news.

"I'm taking you home," you heard him say.

"Don't you have to fight against that monster?"

"No, the Avengers will be here any second. They got everything under control,"

Since you forgot to close your window this morning (you live in a high building), the superhero just flew through it and put you down.

"May I ask why you didn't move when the monster was near you. You know you could've gotten seriously injured, maybe even worse,"

You looked onto the floor. After all, he was still a complete stranger, even though he just saved your life.

"I know you don't know me, but as someone whose identity is a secret, I wouldn't even be able to tell anyone. Please, I just want to understand," he said in a soft, comforting voice.

You sighed and sank onto your bed.

"I hate myself. That would be the short awnser. But the long one is worse,"

"I got enough time. Like said, the Avengers got everything under control. They don't need me. But why do you hate yourself? You seem like a nice and beautiful girl,"

"I wish I felt that way. But since primary school, I was bullied by my classmates. In high school, it got so worse that I had to change my school. There, I hoped I could just live an invisible life, but instead, two guys became my friends. Peter and Ned are the best things that have happened to me. But since Peter constantly talks about a girl, my self-hatred returned. I tried everything to erase it again, but it just won't go away. I feel like they just became my friends because they felt pity for me, and now they are too polite to tell me they can't stand me," you didn't even notice that you started to cry again.

"I don't know these guys, but I think they are your friends because they like you. You know, just because your friend is in love at the moment doesn't mean he wants to get rid of you. Why don't you talk to them?"

"To be honest, I'm in love. I fell in love with the first guy who was nice to me. All the girls in my class are only caring for looks, but I didn't fall for him because of his look. He is generous, nice, sweet, and a little bit clumsy sometimes. He makes me laugh and cares about others. I don't even consider him liking me. I just want his best, but all the friends I had before were better off without me. They literally told me that. So I better back off of him. I don't want his life to be bad because of me,"

What you didn't know was that under that mask was the boy you loved and that he had tears in his eyes, but he didn't even know why. Was it because you were in love with Ned? He should be happy for his friend, shouldn't he. You were an amazing girl. Ned and you would be a cute couple, but why didn't he like the thought of it. Was this the feeling you had when he talked about MJ? Was this jealousy?

"Please tell your friends about how you feel about yourself. If they don't care, they don't deserve you. And also tell them about your fear of them not liking you. I'm sure they will tell you how they feel. Good luck, beautiful lady,"

With those words, he was out of your window.

As Peter swang back home, his thoughts were only about you. How bad did your old classmates treat you that you think so less of you? At that moment, he promised you that he wouldn't let you down. Never!