#and then I was not sure what to do with Pete's hands lol

[oflightningandstars]

They are talking about books!!!

[bookshelf-dust]

change my mind

carmen berzatto x fem!reader

gif by @emziess

word count: 1,876

warnings: swearing, sugar is still pregnant for the sake of this fic, some playful shouting/sibling behavior, clingy and petty carmy, smooching, barely proofread cuz i’m lazy lol

synopsis: carmy takes it personally when you tell him he has separation anxiety. he just wants you to stay with him all the time. since when is that a problem?

a/n: yes, this is absolutely a fic inspired by and named after a one direction song. i’m healing my inner child and this song just never, ever gets old, lemme’ tell you. with my winter break getting closer, i desperately need some clingy carmy.

————

“Natalie!” You practically screech, embracing the woman, arms strong around her shoulders but going easy with how close you bring yourself to her growing belly. She smiles and laughs into your hair. You both sway back and forth, secretly thinking how good it is to be in another sane person's presence. 

Sugar says your name in the sweetest tone, the kind that, even though she’s hugging you, gives away the grin on her face. “I’m so glad you’re here! I’ve been dying to have some girl time, I swear.”

You both turn at the sound of the door slamming shut, as though someone has kicked it closed with their heel. 

Carmy holds a tray of food up above yours and his sisters head. “Good to see you too, Sug. I’m okay with being chopped liver, it’s fine.”

You hear Pete’s voice from behind you. It echoes a little with the windows open, allowing the cool air to seep in. “It’s that girl bond, am I right?” 

Natalie pulls away and covers her hand with her mouth. Carmy snorts, patting Pete on the back. “Yeah, man. Sure is.”

Then he makes eye contact with his sister. “You know, you could’ve just invited one of us, seeing as all I’m good for is dropping off food.”

Sugar’s socked feet pad across the floor, the squishy spheres of gel sticking and unsticking with each step she takes. Her arms come up around Carmen’s neck and she pulls him into a hug before smacking him on the head. 

“What the fuck, dude?”

Nat gives him an extra squeeze and clears her throat, taking on her worst, but best, male voice. “What the fuck, dude? How could you hit me like that?”

He shoves her away, but you catch how gentle it is, considering she is carrying his niece. “I do not sound like that. And why are you wearing fuckin’ hospital socks around the house?”

“Pete suggested they’d be good while I’m pregnant since I’m so clumsy.”

“They’ve worked pretty well so far,” he chimes in, peeking into one of the trays of food you brought. You go over to him and open it fully, whispering that he can go ahead and eat, if he’s ready. To Pete, if you said it’s alright, it’s like nothing else can touch him. 

“I can get you some, Bear,” you say. “All you gotta do is ask, they’re like a dollar at Walmart.”

“Okay, let’s just eat, alright?” He fusses, though there’s that telltale dimple appearing on his face. He drags a tense hand through his hair. 

“Yes, chef.”

You’re in the first year of your masters program, and when you called Carmy a few weeks ago to tell him the dates for your fall break, you both decided you didn’t feel up to a stereotypical Thanksgiving this time around. Spending a day with Natalie and Pete seemed much more appealing than waiting for an inevitable panic attack from Carm and a full-on fight, political or not, from any given Berzatto or uncle on your mother’s side of the family. 

You’ve spent the past three nights in Carmy’s apartment, but you’re heading back to campus tomorrow morning so that you can focus on submitting your finals and tying up any loose ends. You told him ahead of time that you only planned to stay for a few days, knowing yourself and knowing that the longer you let yourself stay, the harder it would be to head back and finish up the fall semester. 

Besides, it would only be a bit longer until you could settle in with him for winter break. 

Nevertheless, Carmy was grumpy. He was trying to hide it from you because of course your decision was logical, but he is a selfish man. If it was up to him, you’d stay with him every day of the year and let him treat you like a princess. 

Each time you catch him frowning, you remind him that you’ll be coming home to him again in a matter of days. There’s a miniature whiteboard on his refrigerator that you found in the dollar section at Target. It was meant to hang on the wall, but you hot glued little circle magnets on the back four corners. Carmy laughs every time he sees it because he’s splashed something on the fridge door and needs to wipe it clean. You took the lone, failing dry-erase marker from the kitchen drawer and doodled a little calendar on it.

You drew two slightly uneven squares for your countdown. Currently each block has a number, but you know he’ll feel better when the left spot loses any number higher than 0. 

All throughout dinner, Carmy’s hand is at the small of your back, your knee, your bicep, the nape of your neck, resting on your wrist so he can feel your pulse. Like he’s afraid you are about to slip out of his grasp, only to be swept away by the current and never seen again. 

Sugar clears her throat, tucking a chunk of hair behind her ear and wiping her mouth on a paper napkin. “Someone piss in your cornflakes, Carm?”

He blinks over at her, practically jumping at being noticed. You can see his fingertips glistening with sweat under the fluorescent dining room lights. 

You have a forkful of pasta in your mouth, but you begin to chew with haste, shaking your head to try and redirect the conversation. 

You swallow, “It was me, Nat.”

“What?” she asks, voice raising a tinge. “Are you guys having a fight or something? Oh god, should I have said I was sick tonight?”

Pete coughs, his cheeks red as he fights his body’s urge to choke on the food he’s shoving in his mouth to avoid anything slightly awkward. 

The knees of Carmen’s jeans rub together when he sits back further in the dining chair, the sound of the denim, scratchy and rough, communicating his pouty demeanor as he crosses his arms.

“She’s leaving me,” he deadpans.

Forks clatter across plates. “What the fuck, Carm? Are you serious?” He laughs to himself because that vein is protruding from Natalie’s forehead. You elbow him in the ribs. 

You exhale hard enough that Pete feels it on the other side of the table.

“I am not leaving him. He’s pitching a fit because I’m going back to campus tomorrow so that I can focus on finals.”

Natalie’s eyes swing back and forth between the two of you like she’s watching a tennis match. 

“She thinks I’m a distraction,” Carmy says. 

“No duh,” Sugar laughs. “You’re the ultimate distraction. Hell, you’re made of distractions, what with all that unmedicated ADHD.”

“No duh? What are we, five? Y-you think I’m incapable of supporting my girlfriend’s ambitions because I’m some deranged, like fucking—some koala bear?”

Sugar nods once, affirmatively. 

“Yes.”

Carmy scoffs. 

You throw back the rest of your wine and put out a hand like a cop directing traffic would. “Alright, that’s enough. Let’s finish eating, okay? I’ll deal with Carmy’s separation anxiety later tonight.”

He looks at you like he’s been slapped, that crinkle between his brows forming, followed shortly by the appearance of his frown lines. “I do not have separatio—”

“Good garlic bread, huh?” Pete says, crunching loudly. “There fancy butter in this?” 

————

“I can’t believe you think I have separation anxiety!”

“You do have separation anxiety, baby.”

Carmen shrugs off his coat and tosses it at the arm of the couch, but he misses and it slides right off. What a perfect metaphor for his life right now. 

“Just because I’m sad that you’re leaving me?”

“I’m not leaving you, Bear. I’m going to campus so I can ensure I get all my shit done.”

“And you can’t do that here? You already told me you don’t have any in-person finals. You’re submitting everything online, so you don’t have to go back—not really. I must really be a bother, huh?”

He regrets it already, but his petty, pitiful brain quit thinking logically about half an hour ago. 

“Carmen. Anthony. Berzatto.”

He winces. The day Sugar told you his middle name was his last day of peace. He’d had you half-convinced he just didn’t have one because he was the baby and Donna was tired of coming up with names. 

You take his face in your hands, your grip on his cheeks much gentler than the look you’re giving him. 

“Carmen. Listen to me, alright? When I’m here with you, I’m in a state of like, pure bliss. I don’t want to think about my assignments because you make me so content and happy, and you’re so stupidly cute that I just want to look at you all day and I know I won’t be productive because of it.”

Carmy’s eyes flash. His cheek twitches under your thumb where the muscles around his mouth are fighting an involuntary smile. 

His gaze flickers down to your lips when you start grinning as you speak.

“I just want to do really well on my finals, Carm. I’ve worked so hard this semester, and I want to give it my all and finish strong, you know? It’s the fact that I have no self control and would have to pull myself away from you to get work done.”

Carmy blinks at you. “I promise I can keep from distracting you. I’ll even set you up a workspace and bring you lunch or somethin’. So you can do your shit and not be bothered. We could make Richie buy you coffee.”

You laugh. 

“I’m serious,” Carmen continues. “I can be accommodating.”

You take your hands away from his face and step back, setting your fingers against your hips like that’s going to help you think better. He’s already winning you over, but you still want to do all the responsible things. 

There’s a kind of humorous tension in the room. 

Carmy is waiting for you to speak, and you’re trying to pretend like it’s a hard decision to make. If he’s serious about helping you stay focused, there’s no reason you couldn’t just go ahead and stay. 

You inhale, just to make Carmy cringe and brace himself. 

“Baby…if you say you want me to stay, I’ll change my mind.”

“I want you to stay!” Carmy blurts. “Please. I’ll get down on my fuckin’ knees if you really want me to. Stay. I promise I’ll keep out of your hair and help you be productive.” 

You giggle, soft and slow, and it reaches Carmy’s ears, enchanting him like you’re made of some love potion, whatever ingredients you’d need for that sort of thing running through your veins. 

“I’d already pretty much decided on staying right after we left Nat’s.”

Carmy swats you playfully on the hip. “Oh, fuck off! Maybe you should go back, if you’re gonna be so mean to me.” He turns to walk towards the kitchen, glancing at you over his shoulder. 

You move quickly, launching yourself off the floor and landing on his back. He hoists you up, bursts of laughter leaving his throat. 

“You love it when I’m mean to you,” you say, and you press a kiss to the side of his neck, all warm and sickly sweet. 

————

note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!

[p3terparker]

𝗽𝘂𝘁 𝗶𝘁 𝗼𝗻 𝗺𝘆 𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗱 - 𝗽𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: peter and you argue because he loves to spend all of his money on you.

𝘄/𝗰: 0.5k

𝗮/𝗻: sorry for disappearing for a few months… again 😭 i am slowly getting back into writing so please bear with me! i saw my last fic reached over 9000 notes so that really motivated me to write something else for you guys ♡ i’m not so sure how i feel about this but i really do see peter as the type of boyfriend to blow all of his paycheck on you so i just had to write this LOL anyways i hope you all enjoy this!!

“put it on my card” you suddenly hear peter say as he pulled your earphones out, causing you to jump.

you were trying to keep yourself awake while waiting for peter to come through your window after patrolling for the night. to keep yourself occupied, you decided to listen to music and do some online shopping (which consisted of you just putting things in your cart but never actually buying anything). with your back facing your window and your earphones in, you didn’t see or hear peter come inside.

“jesus christ peter, don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“yeah yeah whatever” he says not really caring that he nearly scared the life out of you. “as i was saying before you rudely snapped at me, put your order on my card”

“i literally have over $400 worth of clothes in my cart”

“and?”

“what do you mean and? that’s expensive”

“your point?”

“that’s more than half of your paycheck”

“doesn’t matter. the whole reason why i have a job is to spoil you” he says while taking off his suit and getting comfortable in your bed.

“aww pete, you’re too sweet. but still, no. i don’t want you spending that much money on me”

he hummed an okay which led you to believe he was gonna just drop the conversation.

you were so wrong.

before you know it, he’s shooting a web at your laptop and dragging it over to him.

“NOOOO!” you scream dramatically and tackle him on your bed before he can type in his card information.

“LET ME BUY YOU CLOTHES!” he screams back while trying to push you off of him so he can grab your laptop again.

you quickly snatched your laptop from the bed and ran out of your room as fast as you could.

“GET BACK HERE!” peter shouted while chasing after you to which you just ignored and kept running away.

“you know what, you leave me no choice” he abruptly stops chasing you which causes you to stop in confusion.

suddenly, he jumped and stuck to your roof with his webs, and webbed your laptop over to him. you literally had no way of getting to him now.

“that’s no fair, you’re cheating!” you whined.

he laughed at you standing helplessly below him and finally placed your $450 order on his card.

“here you go” he smiled and jumped down from the roof, handing your laptop back over to you.

before you were about to scold him for spending so much money on you, you heard a knock at your door.

you and peter both looked at each other confused because you weren’t expecting anybody for the night. he walked to the door and opened, revealing the people you were least expecting.

the police.

“hello, we were called over here for a noise complaint. your neighbors reported screaming being heard from your apartment room and they were concerned. is everything alright?”

you did not expect to end your night by explaining to the police that you and your boyfriend were screaming over buying clothes.

[corrodedcoffins-blog]

Getting Together

main masterlist

regulus black x potter!reader universe

word count: 1.4 k

note: been sitting on this for a while lol

takes place during the marauders 6th year and Reg's 5th

Sat criss-cross on the bathroom counter, Y/n held her hair out of her face in a make/shift ponytail while she finished her eyeliner, Sirius was sat on the toilet lid while he waited for his turn with the girl’s eyeliner.

The gang™ was getting ready for a Hufflepuff party, they may be kind and hard-working students but damn that house could party. 

“I probably won’t stay long, I've got a tummy ache.” “Well, I’m sure Remus would be willing to come back here with you.” – “What about Remus?” James said, walking into their shared bathroom to brush his teeth before the party (planning to kiss Lily, though he will most likely fail once again)

“Nothing.” Y/n said casually before going back to her eyeliner, hitting her brother’s hand out of the way of opening their mirror cabinet. 

James asks, with his mouth full of toothpaste and his toothbrush hanging out of his mouth, “Are we balding?” 

“‘We’?” She looked at him through the mirror and planned to tell him how thick-headed he sounded, but got distracted by her small bald spot. “Wait- do you’ve the same?” “Yeah,-” “I think it’s just our hairlines.” “You think?” 

Sirius may have a brother but, much to his own dismay, never had that sibling dynamic with Regulus, they loved each other but due to their upbringing they showed their love quietly. So he always found James and Y/n’s back and forth moments as foreign as the rest of the boys did since neither Peter or Remus had siblings.

-

The group of five entered the Hufflepuff common room, James immediately went to the drinks, dragging Remus with him, while Sirius dragged Peter and the girl with him to the dance floor. The two others eventually brought the rest their own cups, Y/n danced but it felt like whenever she looked up she noticed her newest roommate.

This past summer break Sirius and Regulus run away and have since been living at the Potter’s, which both twins were relieved about, they knew about the Blacks. 

Regulus was nursing his drink while leaning against the fireplace, his long fingers wrapped around the cup, mumbling some sarcastic comment to Barty, until they linked eyes through the room full of wasted students. Though it felt like it broke as fast as it formed when Sirius tapped her on the shoulder and informed her of the girl Peter was about to ask to dance, pushing him aside she began to fix Peter’s hair by brushing pieces out of his face and flattening his shirt.

“Go get ‘er, Pete!” “Okay.” She laughed at his awkwardness. Peter could always make her laugh, though that could be said about all the boys, Peter had the type of humour that even he himself didn’t know when he was being funny and the biggest laughs came when he wasn’t trying.

Overall the party went well, Sirius didn’t leave too long after that interaction, Remus going with him for whatever fake reason he gave this time, Pete ending up leaving with that girl, and James after not winning over Evans yet again, went back to the dorm no doubt unknowingly interrupting a moment between Sirius and Remus. 

But Y/n couldn’t bring herself to go back to the dorm just yet, she liked the fresh air and the time away from the boys. It was when she went farther down a trail for a smoke that she saw the black-headed boy she’s grown to know well after the summer.

“Hey, Reg.” “Hello.”

Regulus was just getting comfortable around her when school came around again, one of the many reasons it took so long to be comfortable around the older girl was since he could remember he had liked her. The summer after Sitius’ first year he showed Reg some pictures of his new friends, and the second he saw Y/n he was gone.

The girl walked closer to the bench Regulus was sitting on and sat herself next to him, neither’s eyes leaving their view of the black lake for more than a couple seconds.

“My brother and your friends just abandoned you?” “Sirius went back to the dorm, had a stomach bug and Renus went with him an-” “Those two finally?” “How’d you know about that?” “Sirius is my brother and I know him rather well.” “I guess you do… Want-?” She gestured for him to grab her cigarette, he shook his head ‘no’ which was an uncommon answer around here, but it sorta made sense that Regulus wouldn’t, she supposes he’s proper that way. 

“So what about your friends?” “Pandora doesn’t really do parties, and I’m sure Barty and Evan are off somewhere.” “Well I’m glad we both got abandoned.” She looked up to face the crescent moon, not thinking too hard about how Regulus would interpret her words. She liked when he did. All summer she had made comments like that one, she enjoyed the blush that would rise to the tips of his ears.

“Why’s that?” “I like being with you.” The boy’s head shoots up from it staring at the grass beneath their feet to look at her beside him. 

“Y-you do?” “Yeah!...” Her pause made Regulus assure that he read that ‘being with you’ thing wrong, because of course she wouldn’t date him; she’s a year older, the most gorgeous girl he’s ever seen, as well as the nicest. But in actuality, Y/n has been trying to hint that she likes Regulus since the beginning of the summer. Yet the boy was most oblivious to people truly caring about him, he didn’t believe it possible; that only made her want to show him even more.

“Reg, I really like being with you..” She said, expectantly, enunciating every word to get it through his self-loathing skull. It was when she raised her eyebrows at him that it hit him, he was not imagining it. Not at all. 

“Really? Me?” “Yes.” “Oh… I did not expect that.” Whether it was meant to be said out loud or not, it made Y/n laugh so Regulus was thankful he did, he liked her laugh. Still unmoving, Y/n makes the first move yet again.

She grabbed the end of his Slytherin tie, twirling it between her finger tips before grabbing it in a fist to pull the younger boy in. Her lips covered his own, gently they moved together, her hand went to his and placed them on her waist and then hers went to the side of his neck, all while holding her cigarette in the other. The taste of said cigarette lingered in her mouth adding to the addicting taste of her and her almost gone strawberry lip gloss.

Finally pulling back, both slightly out of breath, they took a moment to gather themselves. The Potter girl took a final drag before putting it out with her heel.

“I gotta get going, Reg.” “Oh-” “If you're free after classes tomorrow I’d love to meet back here.. We could talk, or just be with each other.” “Yeah. I would really like that.” “Good. Okay, I’ve really got to go though, James gets worried when any of us stay out too late.” 

She waited a second before turning on her heels to begin her walk, though the sound of footsteps stopped her in her tracks and Regulus came up next to her, “As you mentioned it’s late, it would be the gentlemanly thing to do to walk you to your common room.” “Well gee, what a gentleman I’ve got on my hands.”

Their conversation flowed as they walked the long walk to Gryffindor Tower. And though they got plenty of time together Y/n couldn't help the slight disappointment when they arrived at the portrait hole.

“This is my stop.” “Yes.” “I don’t feel very gentlemanly now that you have to walk all the way to the dungeons now, why don’t I walk you?” “Then I would walk you back here and we would be in a terrible loop.” “The loops not so terrible if I’m spending the whole time with you.” 

If another student were to hear their conversation, see the love stricken grin on the girl's face, and the red face of Regulus they would most likely throw up from the sheer cheesy-ness. And to make matters for the state of the blush on his face worse, Y/n placed a soft peck on Regulus’ lips one last time.

“Now get outta her, I’m not allowed to let other houses hear the password, especially not snakes like yourself.” That sentence from just about any other Gryffindor would have offended him, but everything Y/n said felt like it came from a good place.

“Okay. Goodnight.” “Night, Reg.” She laughed out, due to his seriousness. She then held on to her word and didn’t say the password until he was out of ear shot, watching him as he left.

[dontbesoweirdkira]

Can you please write for a yandere NWH Peter Parker x reader who is smarter than him? Like they knew right away he was stalking them and played along?

Also omg I can't believe we are mutuals now, I adore your page so much <3

A/N: I hope I understood your ask properly. Aww that's super sweet! I try to follow back people who interact with my content a lot and show support back! Glad we are moots too. <3

Warnings: mentions of stalking..

Masterlist

Requests: open

Okay i'm going to say on record that if I *had* to have one of the Peters as a stalker...I would want it to be his. Not because I'm a fan girl of Tom or anything but his Peter is by far the most harmless. Like if I saw Tobey's or Insomniac's spiderman stalking me, I'd be absolutely terrified. Tom's Peter is just a ray sunshine and rainbows lollll

Here's the thing, Peter cannot be stealthy to save his life. Which is rather ironic because as spiderman, he is insanely cunning...

Maybe at first he's able to tiptoe around you a little better. You might notice his presence oddly always being around,,,even at places you know he'd never go to but you brush it off. In the beginning his obsession is more like a subtle crush. He doesn't particularly act out of the ordinary when he's around you. Awkwardness, stuttering, poorly witted banter are all Peter's signature when speaking to anyone.

But you still take a mental note of his light stalking.

As he spirals deeper and his attraction towards you becomes more obvious, you know for sure that he's stalking you. It's even become more frequent. Like I said this Peter is so harmless that you just find his behaviors to be more amusing than anything. It's funny because you can tell that he thinks he's being inconspicuous but his gooey smile alone is enough to give him away. lol

You probably don't do anything about it at first, he's not really hurting you. The man just is lovesick..but maybe eventually you decide to have a bit of fun with it.

It becomes a game of making Peter as flustered as possible. Like you'll purposefully wonder into dead-ends, secluded or intimate places (libraries, locker rooms, underwear stores ect) just to catch him in the act and be like "Oh hey Pete!....whatcha doing here?" It's fun watching him freak out and created some stupid excuse. You always act oblivious and go along with his answers.

Sometimes you'll touch caress his arm, ruffle his hair, and make intentional eye contact to watch him squirm. Even choosing more endearing words that you know he'll hang on to. He's probably convinced himself that you are falling in love back. Do you understand what you are truly doing to him??

Maybe you purposefully leave your house unlocked on your blinds open to make his endeavors a bit easier. You're curious to see if he'd be willing to go far enough to actually go in your house... or photograph you from outside..

As light as he is with his steps, you can feel his presence over you as he's watching you rest...

You notice things going missing from your drawers..

It intrigues you as you watch him go from being a total creep behind you back to acting innocent in your face. He easily falls right into your traps. It's almost painful how gullible and clueless he is.

You kind of don't want to give up your act as you've become obsessed with him in your own way. Maybe not in love but just with the peculiarity of the situation... No one would believe you if you told them about this whole thing. If you weren't so calculated about it, you probably would've thought you were insane too.

It was hard not to laugh in his face when he asked for your address to pick you up for a date when you know for a fact he knows the layout of your house like the back of his hand.

Maybe you do end up giving up your cover one day. You know that he's hiding in your closet, watching you study when you finally blurt out..

"Peter, it's been months now. I know you've been stalking me. I know you're hiding in here, you can come out."

Can you imagine the pure look of fear and guilt on his face.. Peter doesn't even know how to react. Like he's fully freaking out in the closet and you can here his little curses and shuffling. He's so adorbs. "Peter...just come out" he says something stupid like "uhh it's not Peter it's...Ignacio, your....cleaning lady..??" He eventually comes out and he feels far too guilty to even look at you. If he had a tail it's be between his legs ahhh... He's completely convinced that you are going to tell him to stay away from you or yell at him.. Like it's so embarrassing how slick he thought he was.

[slutforguns]

the club spying on jerry and the girl (reader) hes hanging out with cuz i feel like jerry is the only one who could have a slightly normal relationship with a girl and the club would hate it

I wanna thank you for giving me an excuse to write for my favorite character 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

Also yeah, your right. They'd fucking HATE it lol

Teen Jerry x fem!reader || Sneaking around

Josh let out an annoyed grunt as Pete was pushed against him in the tiny bush, while Bill stayed quiet, keeping his binoculars up and pointed at Jerry's window.

"Can you tell me why we're here, Bill?" Josh complained with a slightly bitter tone.

"Shut it, fatty. We're making sure Jerry doesn't die." Bill responded, sounding a little annoyed by the, in his eyes, pointless question.

"Die? To that chick?" Pete piped up, a little confused. "Ya kidding? She seems harmless."

But Bill just rolled his eyes.

Meanwhile, Jerry sat awkwardly on his couch, the movie he put on playing in the background as he tried to subtly glance over at you.

"S-So... You into Lord of The Rings?"

"Hm?" You hummed with confusion before realizing. "O-Oh! The movie? Yeah, it's good." You said awkwardly, looking away with a slightly embarrassed expression.

"Y-Yeah, I think so too..." He said with a nervous chuckle.

His knee bounced anxiously as he looked at the TV, his palms growing sweatier and sweatier by the minute.

A few minutes of awkward and tense silence passed over the two of you, before Jerry cleared his throat to get your attention.

"D-Do you want any snacks? I have popcorn?"

You nodded quietly, still not looking at him.

Bill scowled a little. "Jesus, what is he doing?" He asked himself under his breath.

"I dunno, can I go home now?" Pete asked with a bit so pleased tone as he played.

"No, Pete, we can't! If we do, we're gonna lose Jerry to some random pair of boobs!"

Pete just rolled his eyes. "God, fine.. fuck man." He mumbled under his breath as he sunk back down into the bushes.

Jerry came back with the popcorn, and awkwardly placed the bowl between the both of you.

You looked over at the bowl, then at Jerry, then at the TV screen.

As you reached for the bowl, Jerry did as well. (Ok it's cliche, but shut up.)

Jerry jumped a little at the contact and quickly pulled away.

You frowned a little at that. You let out a small sigh and stood up from the couch.

"Y'know, this was really sweet, but I-I should get going." You said sheepishly as you rubbed your forearm with your hand, shifting awkwardly where you stood.

Jerry frowned and reached out to grab your arm. "W-Wait! I-I just-..." He trailed off, not really sure what to say.

"Oh my God, what is he doing?" Bill mumbled under his breath as he continued stalking watching the two of you from a far.

Jerry looked up at you nervously. "You... You don't have to leave, I just-... Y'know, you, uh..." Crap. He has no idea what to say.

He let out a soft sigh and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "L-Look, I know I'm not.. the best option, but I-I really like you. And I wanna prove it besides watching some stupid movie with you." He said, looking away so he wouldn't die of embarrassment. He can't believe he just called The Lord of The Rings stupid!

You looked down at him, and smiled just a bit. You reached out and cupped his face, before pressing your lips gently against his.

Bill's jaw dropped. "NO FUCKING WAY!" He shouted with rage and annoyance.

Josh looked over at Bill, and Pete woke up from the nap he was taking and shot up.

"What, Bill? What'd you see?" Josh asked eagerly, trying to grab the binoculars to see what was going on.

When Josh finally got the binoculars, he pointed them at Jerry's window, and his jaw dropped. "No way..."

Pete rolled his eyes. "Oh c'mon," he said as he snatched the binoculars, "you guys are being- holy shit Jerry's kissing her!" Pete exclaimed with a bit of surprise.

Jerry sat there frozen, before you pulled away. He was already missing the feeling of your lips on his.

You looked down at him, and smiled. "There's and ice cream shop a few blocks away. You, uh... Wanna go there instead?" You asked with a slightly nervous chuckle.

Jerry nodded. "Be-de-be-de-be-de... I-I mean yeah! I think I have twenty bucks if you're up for it!"

"I'd love that, Jer."

[star-writes-fanfiction]

:: c o p y c a t :: ☆ :: p e t e r . p ::

Character/s: mcu!peter x implied stark!reader

Summary: doing the 'copying snaps' trend with Peter.

Warnings: very suggestive content, light smut [masturbation, fingering] it's also kinda short since it's not full smut and I did not proof read, like, at all. Comment if you want me to edit lol.

Request: none (based off a headcanon I wrote recently)

Other: I don't really know how snapchat works because I don't use it much, so if I've messed it up let me know. <3 also I wrote reader and Peter as college students because sexualising minors is a big no-no y'all 😐😑😐

You were laying in your bed at the tower, playing block blast to pass the time. You were meant to be studying for your massive exam coming up, but there's nothing more fun than procrastination. Besides, you had all of tonight to cram as much as possible, and you work faster under pressure.

Just as you cleared your board, you got a notification from Peter, your best friend since elementary school, and also your decade-long crush. It was a snap of him pulling the duck face captioned 'it's that snapstreak grind'. Typical Peter, you thought, going to reply. There's no way in hell either one of you would be the one to lose your streak of 2000.

You took a photo of your roof, adding the text. 'I was trying to study, p'. His cute little face popped up in the bottom left as he began to type.

Pete ❤️

Oh sorry lol

Me

It's ok im bored anyway 😭😭

Time to spam u with ridiculous photos cuz u love me

You joked, already opening your camera. You took a photo of your middle finger, leaving it uncaptioned and hitting send. A moment later Peter sent you a similar photo with the same pose.

Oh, so thats the game we're gonna play? You thought to yourself, taking a photo of your face this time, poking your tongue out.

Again, he returned the snap. "Well, I may as well use this to my advantage..." You muttered aloud as you took a photo of you doing the spidey hand. You know, where you curl your two fingers?

And Peter, being the innocent little gremlin he is, sent it in return. His arm outstretched as he curled his middle and ring fingers. God, you thought, your thighs fluttering at the sight. You took a quick picture of you just sitting up and captioned it 'silly spidey'. That would buy you some time.

Keeping the image in your head, your fingers crept down your stomach and into your panties. You deftly found your clit and began to rub in in quick circles, gasping at the feeling. Your back arched slightly as you inhaled sharply. With those same two fingers from the photo, you started to thrust in and out, curling at that spot that makes you want to scream.

But in your mind it wasn't you, it was Peter. His hands in your pants making you feel so good. "Fuck, don't stop," you whined, throwing your phone somewhere on the bed. You couldn't care less about replying anymore. It felt so fucking good.

You felt your body reacting as your neared your orgasm already, just thinking about Peter. "Fuck, baby, you're so wet for me," he'd say in your ear as his toned arms supported his weight and trapped your head in. His left knee would be holding your right leg in place as you squirmed uncontrollably.

Until finally you came, finishing all over your sheets. You let yourself lay in euphoria before remembering about Peter. You scrambled to pull your pants up and grab the phone.

Pete ❤️

🟦 sent you a snap

Hello?

No reply?

Damn I just got ghosted 😞😞

You blushed, the full weight of what you'd just done settling on you.

Me

Sorry Peter dad wanted me for a sec

Pete ❤️

Oh ok alg

What'd he need

You rushed to think of something.

Me

He needed my little fingers for something

Wow, great lie, you thought sarcastically. You were wondering if it's possible for one to think sarcastically when he replied.

Pete ❤️

U sure it isn't u who needs my fingers for smth?

You turned the brightest shade of crimson on the spectrum of colour right then. Shit, think for a response! You thought desperately. Then he sent you another snap. You hesitated before opening it, seeing a picture of his hand clenching his sheets. Fuck~ you thought as you nearly moaned at the sight. Then you read the caption.

'Want help?'

You've never seen anyone agree as fast as you did then.

Send help I love this man too much. Like and rb as always and plz leave requests!!!

- star ✨️

[supersecretventureblog]

The Invisible Hand of Fate - Pete, Billy, Hunter and Brock

ough, if things had worked out just a liiiitle bit differently for him, Pete White would be the smarmiest super villain.

like sometimes he's normal, sometimes he makes faces like that and I'm like "oooooh, oh ur a little slimey, aren't you?" luckily he's my favorite.

SHORELEAVE!!!!!!!! the later seasons still aren't on Netflix, and I've gotta be honest, I really miss Shoreleave and Hunter and also the new york arc. BLUE MORPHO???? that was some GOOD vbros. And netflix knows it's good, because look what they use as the FUCKING thumbnail for the show.

By JOVE! My goodness, that appears to be Season SIX! Hmmm, and yet,,,, netflix says this show only has.... THREE seasons.... hmmm..... curiouser and curiouser,,,,,, I digress.

Background Character OSI soldier.

I would NOT sass Brock Samson, Shoreleave is a braver man than I. He looks like he could literally eat Hunter AND Shoreleave. what the shit.

pretty sure ppl have already gotten this frame before, but I like it and I want it on my blog,

this episode is ridiculously quotable. I love saying "what is the magna carta?" "cows on my side/UNCONSCIONABLE BASTARDS!/OH OH CEMETARY! You lose all your COWS!"

ew why is he like, full of whimsy here?

I bet they didn't even get invited inside. Rusty probably shooed them away on the steps lol.

:(

dang I'm out of room again. I got like, most of what I wanted I guess, so it's fine, I'll call it for now, until I do the full episode some other time.

[melissa-kenobi]

Nerds

[PS5 Peter Parker x Reader/PS5 Harry Osborn x Reader]

A/N: just a lil blurb, super cute 🥺. FYI, Peter, Harry and Reader are in a relationship. MJ is best friends with them all. Also I'm not a science nerd, idk shit about science so this may be scientifically incorrect lol

Summary: You try to figure out the missing element.

***

"So if I multiply the radius by- " The sound of your voice echoes through the labs at the Foundation, as you experiment with the different formulas.

"Why is it still yellow?" You mutter slightly annoyed and to no-one in particular, throwing away your attempt.

"No, maybe I should try etat- no, or maybe tri- " There was a pattern to it but you couldn't see it at all, maybe you had missed something. You continued talking to yourself, jotting away your idea. Then you went back to the computer and typed away at it before putting in another trial run.

You were so into your little experiment, you hadn't realised Peter had walked in, eyes curious as he placed a hand on your lower back, "Hey, why don't you try the- "

"Ah- you scared me, Pete! But yes, that's a good idea. Maybe it'll balance the acidity of it out." You jump at his touch but suddenly jump back into scientist mode as he gives you a brilliant suggestion. "You're a genius, Pete!"

"Wait!" Peter says, but it's too late. The compounds reject and cause a small reaction. A small cloud of black fluff poofed into your face, making you blink as stared at Pete, who was trying not to laugh at you.

"Okay, maybe not." You freeze before jotting down some notes on your failed attempt. There was a little bit of smoke on your face, which Peter came over and rubbed off before kissing your cheek. "You're too cute."

"No time for cuteness, Mr Parker, onto Trial No.2." You wink at him.

***

Harry had been watching your little nerdy moment with heart eyes, and mushy feeling in his chest, and when Peter had turned up, he wasn't sure he could be even more in love with the both of you than he already was. Harry felt his heart burst with adoration, and he couldn't help but let out a little chuckle when Peter accidentally bumped into you but apologised with a little kiss on your lips.

"Hey, what you doing up here all alone?" MJ walked up as she hip bumped Harry. He let out a little laugh and gave her a hug before turning her around to see the two of you.

"Ah. Creeping on your girlfriend and boyfriend I see..." MJ teases him.

He rolls his eyes good-naturedly, "Don't they look so cute, being all nerdy and shit? I mean, look at y/n. She was so focused that she didn't even notice Peter come in.."

MJ guffaws loudly, cutting Harry off, "You are so whipped for them!"

Harry shoves her lightly, then gives her the middle finger- making MJ laugh even louder, but he continues to watch you and Pete happily.

***

Harry finally walked over to the two of you, cuddling you from being as he placed a kiss on Peter's cheek, making Peter blush deep red. You glanced at Peter, ready to tease him, but Harry placed a kiss on your lips, making you blush too.

Peter looked at you with a grin, before a look of realisation passed over him as he looked at your face, making it click for you too.

Red. It was a deep red.

"Rubidium!" The two of you chimed in response, all of it clicking together. You both pull away from Harry as he looks at you two dumbfounded.

"Of course!" You say as you looked at Peter, who made a 'doh' face and gestured that you two were idiots for not realising it sooner. You ran quickly to grab some and added it to the container. The rubidium instantly neutralised the colour of it, making both you and Peter 'woah' in sync. "It actually worked!"

"Harry Osborn, you are a genius!" Peter grinned.

"We needed our third element, didn't we Pete?" You giggled as Harry pulled the two of you into a hug, the three of you all cuddling.

"I love you, my two nerds..." Harry laughs, his smile warm and content.

***

[dreamingofmarauders]

Broken Hearts

Sirius Black x Fem!Reader

Summary: In which Y/n wakes up from a dream on the morning of Sirius' birthday that shatters her heart yet again, reminding her of the one person she can never have.

Warnings: Secret pining, Heartbreak, Jealousy

A/n: I hope you enjoy it and I do want to make a part two of this, but I just don't know when that will be happening lol.

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Part two to 'Broken Hearts'

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

The sun shone brightly down onto Y/n, the lake glistening beautifully in front of her, the birds chirping and a slow breeze blew. Y/n smiled softly. An arm wrapped around her waist, turning her around. She smiled widely.

It was the one who ruled her heart, her best friend, her companion of seven years.

Sirius Black.

He looked down at her softly, pulling her closer that made Y/n gasp at the proximity. Sure they were touchy as friends but this felt different than the others times.

Y/n gazed up into Sirius' stormy grey eyes, losing herself in the beautiful yet chaotic storm.

"I love you, Y/n." He said, making Y/n feel her world turn upside down.

"What?" She softly breathed out, unable to believe what she had just heard.

"I love you, Y/n." Sirius repeated, gazing softly down at her.

Y/n's face broke into a huge smile.

"I love you too." She replied, making Sirius' face light up even more and he leaned his head down as Y/n felt her eyes flutter shut.

His lips brushed hers when Y/n's eyelids flew open and she moved back, earning a quizzical look from Sirius.

"What's the matter, love?" He asked confusedly.

Y/n slowly shook her head, stepping back, leaving the comfort and warmth of Sirius' arms. "This isn't real." She whispered. "This isn't real."

Y/n's eyelids shot open and she sat up, breathing heavily as she looked around. Reality came crashing down on her and her heart shattered into a million pieces. Y/n threw the covers away aggressively and rushed into the bathroom, almost slamming the door before remembering her friends were asleep.

Her hands shook slightly as she reached for the cool water from the tap, splashing the liquid over her face, relishing in the coldness. Y/n looked up in the mirror, feeling her eyes tear up.

Why did it have to be her? Why did she have to be in love with one of her best friends, who would never look at her in the same way?

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

A few hours later, Y/n found herself in the seventh year boys' dormitory, awaiting the birthday boy to step out of the bathroom. She along with the boys were all hidden, and when the door opened, they all sprang out, throwing confetti everywhere and screaming together,

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY PADFOOT!"

Sirius was stunned for a second before his face broke into a grin, grabbing James and Peter into a headlock, messing up their hair.

"Thank you, Prongsie and Wormy."

He released the pair who scowled at him, to which Sirius barked out a laugh. Sirius moved over to Remus and patted him on the shoulder in gratitude. Finally, his eyes moved over to Y/n, who felt her heart flutter. He came over, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and placing a kiss on her head.

"Thank you, love."

She smiled up at him, feeling butterflies erupt in her stomach. Sirius dropped his arm from around Y/n and a coldness washed over her. Remus noticed the expression on Y/n's face and he pulled her over, wrapping an arm around her. She sent him a grateful smile. Only Remus was aware of how Y/n felt towards Sirius.

Fast forward a few more hours and Y/n along with Lily, Marlene and Alice, found herself at Sirius' birthday bash. The music blared, the lights danced off the walls, people shook it out to the beat, drinks in hand and laughs erupted everywhere.

"How's my favorite girl? Enjoying the party?"

Y/n's lips turned upwards as Sirius came into view, Remus right behind.

"Yeah, it's brilliant, considering, Jamie, Rem, Pete and I are the ones to plan it out." Y/n answered making Sirius chuckle.

"We only got a party because it's my birthday." Sirius replied, "So really, it's all thanks to me."

Y/n rolled her eyes, "Oh shut up, you big baby." She said, and Sirius put a hand to his chest.

"You wound me, darling."

Y/n only shot him a sarcastic smile before grabbing Remus' arm and pulling him to the dance floor. "Dance?"

Remus rolled his eyes in annoyance but Y/n saw how the corners of his mouth twitched upwards for a second. "Well, you've already dragged me here, so why not?"

Y/n placed a kiss on Remus' cheek, "Aw, you're the best Remmy!"

Remus placed his hands on Y/n's waist as her arms came around his neck, and the two moved along to the beat. Y/n's gaze wandered around and in the corner it landed on her three other best friends. Sirius was trying to balance a spoon on his nose, but failing miserably. He was being cheered on by Peter and being laughed at by James.

Y/n felt herself smile at the sight. She loved her friends so much. Her eyes went back to the grey eyed boy, who had now given up his efforts and was instead laughing. Y/n admired him. The way he threw his head back, his hair framing his face, the joy on his face.

"Y/n, how long are you going to keep this up?"

Y/n tore her gaze away from Sirius to Remus who looked down at her with concern.

"You know Rem I can't tell him, it would ruin everything."

"It wouldn't, Y/n. Trust me, I'm his best friend as much as I am yours, I know everything about the two of you." Remus answered sincerely.

Y/n frowned slightly, "Please don't give me false hope, Rem." Y/n looked back to Sirius and felt her breath catch in her throat when her eyes locked with his grey ones. "You know it's not just a simple crush, I've fallen for him." Y/n said, while she kept her gaze on Sirius.

Meanwhile, Sirius was being told the same thing by the remaining two Marauders.

"Padfoot, just tell her already."

Sirius broke his eye contact with y/n and turned to look at James who had just spoken.

"She doesn't feel the same way. It would only destroy what we already have, and I can't afford to lose her." Sirius replied, his heart tugging at the very thought.

He watched her and Remus sway together, a smile on her lips and he felt himself melt. However that moment didn't last, as someone else came along, her eyes set upon Sirius Black.

Meanwhile, Remus had managed to at least make y/n think over about telling Sirius. Not only that but he had lit up a hope in her heart. Y/n excused herself to grab a drink to quench her thirst, and her eyes flitted to the corner where the boys were. Y/n felt her heart clench like it always did when she saw another person with Sirius. The girl pressed her lips to his and y/n looked away, her heart shattering for good.

Tears pricked her eyes and her hands shook. Her mind flashed back to the dream she had earlier the same day, which worsened the pain. She could not believe herself, couldn't believe she saw the truth in Remus' words. She hated herself, hated herself for falling in love with someone who would never return her feelings.

After all, a love kept like this would only ever result in broken hearts and nothing more.

[lambicpentametre]

kiss me hard before you go

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62194219

T | 1/1 | 2.2k

The only thing that Ice wants is to sleep off his fourteen hour transport before he sees Maverick on Saturday. But Maverick needs him now, and he never could turn her away. or: Pete is uncertain what the future holds, so Ice kisses her about it.

A/N: “You are capable of writing a prompt fill that is 700 words or less,” I told myself, like a lying liar who lies. “Surely this will not be more than 900 words, and it definitely will not exceed 1300. You’re just making them kiss!” lol. lmao, even.

Title from “Summertime Sadness” by Lana Del Rey.

Iceman’s barely been home for three hours when Maverick turns up on the doorstep of his base housing, shivering in the evening air.

She bangs on the door like she’s trying to wake the dead—which he may as well be, after the fourteen straight hours of transport it had taken to get him back Stateside.

He’d told her he was coming back, but he’d thought he would see her for breakfast on Saturday, like they’d planned. Life is already hard enough in the Naval Air Force for the cocksure daughter of Duke Mitchell, and Ice has no desire to make things worse by allowing gossip to spread about this new relationship between them.

Maverick had agreed with him, had kept to writing him a letter twice a month to not draw any attention as to why Lieutenant Commander Mitchell, recently of Miramar, was regularly corresponding with Lieutenant Kazansky, somewhere out in the Pacific Ocean. She had agreed to seeing him only after things had settled down: breakfast on Saturday like two classmates catching up.

It had been too easy; she had been too reasonable. It hadn’t been like Maverick at all.

It’s not a surprise that she couldn’t hold out and ended up outside of his shitty little one bedroom, in only her customary white t-shirt and a worn pair of denim jeans. Her father’s jacket is nowhere to be seen, and her bike is on the street.

What the hell is she doing, riding in the evening without a jacket?

“Maverick?” he asks, unsure and a little annoyed for having been woken up from his nap.

It all evaporates when Maverick looks up at him, her hair wild from whipping in the wind on her bike, her teeth chattering, her eyes puffy.

“Hey, Kazansky,” she greets, but her voice is shot and stuffy. Something has made Maverick cry and made her desperate enough to seek him out.

Ice moves before he registers it, hauling her into a hug and shutting the door behind them. The moment he’s got her face tucked in the crook of his neck, Maverick winds her arms around him tighter than is comfortable, and she cries thick and gasping sobs that wrack through her whole body.

He puts a hand on the back of her head, stroking her hair, and gently maneuvers them to the couch so they can sit. As soon as he’s down, Maverick is climbing into his lap, like she’s trying to burrow inside of him to hide.

She hasn’t let go of him for a second since he opened his door.

He doesn’t know what else to do; he doesn’t know what could possibly have made Maverick this upset. And without knowing that, there isn’t much that Ice can do to help her. Then again, it might not be help she’s looking for, if the way she’s clinging to him is any indication to what she’s actually after. He leans back into the cushions, careful to keep Maverick steady as he goes, and holds her as close as he can.

It takes longer than he’d like for her to settle. She’s still hiccuping little cries, but she doesn’t have any tears left. Her fingers are twisted in collar of his shirt while her thumb absentmindedly runs over his collarbone. Once he’s sure her breathing has evened out enough, he presses a soft kiss to her temple, taking in the sunkissed-jet fuel-danger-leather-want smell that follows Maverick wherever she goes.

“Hey,” he whispers, resting his forehead against hers. He doesn’t want to break the quiet calm that’s fallen between them. “Are you okay?”

She whimpers, and then she’s tightening her arms and taking in a stuttering breath, and it’s all Ice can do to keep her from falling off of his lap and onto the floor. He grabs her by the waist and adjusts their positions: one of his arms around her back, the other twined around her front, hands clasped together so she can’t move away again, so she’s nestled into his side, her legs thrown over his lap, her head on his shoulder, her arms around his neck.

He tucks her head under his chin and rubs his thumb in a circle, just below one of her ribs.

“Maverick, I’m here. You’re okay. I’m not gonna let you go.”

“Ice,” she croaks. He pulls away enough to look at her, and the sight of her nearly breaks him. She looks worse than she did after Goose died, like the life and spark and everything that made her Maverick has been carved out of her with a rusty blade.

He pulls the arm around her front free and brushes away the tear tracks that run across her cheeks. He kisses her forehead, her brow, then both of her eyes, slow and steady like the Iceman always is, until she finally levels out and they’re breathing together.

Maverick reaches under his collar and pulls his dog tags out, her fingers tracing over the pressed letters that spell Thomas C Kazansky. The tension starts to bleed out of her until she’s all but melted against him.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks softly.

She squeezes her eyes shut. “No. I don’t want to talk about it ever again.”

“Okay.”

Maverick threads the chain of his dog tags through her fingers and tugs. He knows her well enough to not look at her; it’s always been easier for Maverick to say the hard things when she doesn’t have to meet his eyes and see whatever it is she’s scared she might find there.

“Carole called me this morning. Told me she’ll be dead by Christmas.”

Shit.

“She’s writing up her will. Fuck, she’s barely older than my dad was when—”

Maverick chokes on the end of her sentence, but he hears it anyway. She’s barely older than my dad was when he was shot down, when he died, when he left me alone.

“Ice, she wants—she said—” Maverick inhales deeply, sets her chin, and starts again.

“She’s leaving me custody of Bradley when she’s gone.”

Fuck.

“Mav—”

“I don’t want to do this, Ice,” she cuts him off. “I never wanted this.”

And this thing between them is so new, so untested… Ice doesn’t know what she means. They had never talked about this before he’d left on his deployment. Kids had always been something Ice left to figure out in the future, a decision he could make later as he climbed the ladder to the top of the Navy. It’s a choice he’s been happy to kick down the lane. Flying is, was, and has been more important to him than talking about some faceless children that he hadn’t even decided he was having, and Maverick had been the same.

Or, he’d thought she was. He has no idea if Maverick wants kids at all. He’d never asked Maverick if she wanted children some day.

“Mav, you love Bradley with all your heart, I know you do—”

“It’s not a question of if I love him enough!” she snaps, but the fight burns out of her as quickly as it came, and she’s back to grasping at him like he’s the only thing shielding her from certain death. She tucks her face into the crook of his neck again, and he feels the little puffs of breath against his skin more than he hears her whispers.

“I don’t know how to be his mom. My mom died when I was so little, and I never had a mom, I’m gonna fuck it up, I don’t wanna fuck him up, I can’t do that to him too—”

She’s spiraling again, and Ice knows she’ll be in pieces in the morning if he can’t get her out of the spin now.

“Maverick, Maverick! Look at me.” He tilts her face up, his hand under her chin, until their eyes meet. He can see the abject terror and guilt in her eyes.

“You would never hurt Bradley. You’d never let yourself, and I wouldn’t let you either,” he tells her.

“You can’t know that,” she gasps, wrapping her fingers around his wrist and gripping hard enough that he’ll have bruises in the shape of her hand in the morning.

“Yes, I can.”

Maverick opens her mouth to argue with him, but he presses his thumb into her lips to silence her. He feels her breath hitch in her chest. He lets his eyes flick down to her mouth, then meets her gaze again. Her eyes are clearing, and Ice knows that Maverick is coming back to him, and following his gut here is the right thing to do.

Slowly, so slowly that he can hear Slider calling him a glacier in his head, slowly so that Maverick can read the path he’s taking, so that she can stop him if she wants to, he closes the space between them until their lips are almost touching.

“Ice,” she whispers, his name falling from her lips onto his.

Before she finishes, he pulls her the last bit into him and kisses her. She sighs, then she surges to meet him, her hands flying up from the nape of his neck to thread her fingers into his hair.

Kissing Maverick is like going Mach 2 on a clear day over the Pacific. It’s passion in his heart and fire in his touch. It’s the familiar back and forth of arguing with Maverick because she wants to wind him up, then catching her sly smile when he’s crowding her into a wall, just like she wanted. It’s every dream and wish he had for ten months at sea. It’s better than he could imagine, sweeter than he’d hoped.

Maverick pulls away first, though he chases her to steal one more kiss before he lets her go. They’ve ended up sprawled across his couch: Maverick caged underneath him, their legs tangled together, her hands caught in his hair.

He looks down at Maverick, the spitfire pain-in-the-ass that he’s realizing he cannot live without, and sees the uncertainty that forces a little line to scrunch in her forehead. Ice shifts his weight to one elbow and uses his free hand to massage the worry away.

“I need you to be sure,” she admits quietly. She puts a hand over his heart. “I know you care about me, and I know you understand that Bradley is a part of my life, but Ice—”

The words catch in her throat. She swallows thickly and looks up at him, bare and exposed, like she’s taking the words out of a hole in her heart.

“If you’re going to leave, I need you to do it now. I can’t, I won’t survive it if you leave me after. I’m going to be responsible for a kid who’s not old enough to shave by the new year, and that’s... It’s not what you signed up for. I understand if that’s not how you saw this going between us, and I won’t be mad at you if you want to leave. But if you don’t— If you can’t— If you think that’s not for you, I need you to go now.”

Maverick bites her lip. It takes a considerable amount of effort to keep himself from kissing her until she stops.

“I’m not going anywhere, Maverick,” he says. “I told you I was your wingman, and I meant it. Even if—” Even if you decide you don’t want me like I want you, if you don’t love me the way I think I love you—

“If things doesn’t work out between us,” he settles on, “I would still be there for you. And being there for you means being there for Bradley. I knew that when we started. I’m not in the habit of saying things I don’t mean. I promised you twice that I would be at your side if you needed me, and I want to be here.”

“I’m not gonna let you take that back, Kazansky,” she warns him. The words may be intended to pick a fight, but her tone is more wary than combative.

Ice opens his mouth to argue with her, because didn’t he just say he wouldn’t take it back, but he decides it’s much easier to show Maverick than to tell her.

Maverick responds best to action, not to words. He can say everything he needs to tell Maverick in a kiss, and she’ll take it better than she would if he said it out loud to her face.

He lets some of his weight drop to his knees until he’s just resting above Maverick. He doesn’t bother telegraphing his intentions this time and goes straight for a kiss. He nips at her bottom lip until she opens her mouth for him, and he eats the moan it earns him.

He pours everything into it.

Let me stay, let me be here, I want everything you’re willing to give me, I signed up for you and everything about you, I could never imagine leaving you, don’t send me away—

I want the chance to love you, please let me have it.

He pulls away first this time, and he’s pleased to see that he’s left Maverick breathless. He cradles her face in his hands, and Maverick looks up at him with a smile teasing at the corner of her mouth, the same way it had when they’d met on the deck of the Enterprise after she saved his life three times over and said she’d let him be her wingman.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he repeats. “I won’t leave you.”

She smiles.

[soupbitch-moneybitch]

comprehensive list of how ofmd characters would fare if tasked with destroying the ring of power in the fires of mount doom

would be immediately corrupted by the ring:

badminton twins

prince ricky

would use the ring for evil and/or chaos for fun:

calico jack (and it would get Weird(tm) )

spanish jackie (jackie loves her some eternal power over all living creatures in middle earth)

roach (love the guy, but the chaos would be too enticing)

ned lowe (duh)

anne bonnie and mary read (sometimes you gotta spice things up. god forbid women do anything amirite)

evelyn higgs (god forbid women do anything x2)

pre-stede, peak blackbeard era ed (his heart wouldn't really be into it, but it would be expected of him, and he'd do it for the image more than anything else)

would make an attempt to get to mordor but wouldn't make it:

pirate queen zheng (has too much power already, she'd pull a boromir, or more likely, pull an aragorn and accept that she can't be the one to take it, and instead would take down saruman and lead the battle outside the black gate)

ivan (has good intentions, but is too much of a traditional pirate and would inevitably get corrupted)

the swede (he would give it the ol' college try, but would get lost, and fall into the dead marshes, or get stepped on by a tree ent or something)

ed and stede (they would try, but would 10000% lose the plot, probably as early as rivendell when they start dicking around dressing up as elves and pretending to be elven royalty, and then, through a series of wacky misadventures, would somehow end up opening an inn in the shire and being completely unaware of the fact that all the hobbits really don't love having men living among them, but they sell cheap drinks and good food, and that's all hobbits really care about so they let them stay)

wouldn't go to mordor in the first place:

lucius (um, that sounds like a LOT of walking, and he has much better things to do)

pete (would volunteer, but it would be unanimously decided that "maybe you should sit this one out, bud")

wee john (the ring is too basic and tacky and wouldn't go with his Look(tm), and also he'd prefer to stick to what he's good at: napping, sewing, and arson)

archie (would be prepared to go, but the second she gets her hands on it, she would start using it as a party trick like, "lol, look guys, i'm invisible!" and then would inevitably get murdered by ring wraiths)

could go to mordor and destroy the ring, but wouldn't:

auntie (she could definitely destroy the ring, but she's too busy making sure the red flag stays afloat, and keeping the pirate navy in check--she doesn't have time for petty concerns like "the fight between good and evil")

buttons (mad galadriel energy--would be able to refuse the ring, and this would then elevate him to the next phase of his transformation into an all-knowing, all-powerful being, who is also probably a bird)

would make it to mordor but wouldn't destroy the ring:

frenchie (he gets to the fires of mount doom only to realize he dropped the ring somewhere along the way and has no idea where it is)

mary (could make it to mordor, but the feeling of power for the first time in her life after years of being subservient in a shitty society would make the allure too strong in the end)

jim (would probably become corrupted if they were the one carrying it, but could 10000% act as a cutthroat body guard throughout the trek)

would make it mordor and would be able to destroy the ring:

oluwande (the purest of heart, perfect cinnamon roll, too pure, doesn't know how to pronounce "china"--he would never become corrupted)

doug (he would be the sam to mary's frodo, but in a very casual chill way, like "oh, you're being corrupted? no worries, babe, i got it")

is gollum:

izzy hands

my assessment is perfect and correct, but feel free to add your thoughts if you think i'm wrong (but i'm not)

[lunapwrites]

Segment: Like the last one, but different lol

(edit: this is a mostly-duplicate of segment 4 that was posted accidentally but I'm keeping it for reasons.)

Looking back, James thinks some days should come with a warning label. Something to say: maybe stay in bed today. Try again tomorrow.

But that morning, he didn’t suspect a thing. Had no way of knowing.

He met with Lily first: their usual rendezvous point at the old bridge, legs dangling over the edge as they shared the last of his cherry PopTarts, the last of her cigarettes, the story of how the big news had gone over with their parents.

“Could have gone worse,” Lily said, sighing. Pursed her lips to wiggle her septum ring. “Mom cried a lot, Dad left the house, Petunia called me a slut… so, you know, normal Friday night.”

He winced. “If it helps, first thing my mom did was ask when you were moving in.”

Lily huffed out a laugh, flicking ash. “I love your mom. What’d your dad say?”

“Not much, really.” James shrugged. “He was happy for us, though.”

What his dad really had been was quietly disappointed, though he’d still offered to help out while they got their feet under them, offering them both jobs at the office because you can’t support a family on a musician’s salary, Jamie.

Which was currently true, yes, but it didn’t mean he didn’t have PLANS, okay?

Lily nudged him. “When’s the gig?”

“Uh, I think Pete said doors are at six? Sooo…”

“Five, got it.” She stood, brushing off her dark leggings. “Remus isn’t driving again is he?”

James suppressed a shudder; Remus was barely able to fit them and their gear in his beat-up Ford as it was, but adding in his habit of speeding and general disregard for traffic rules… "God, no. Pete's got the van back from his dad. No more TARDIS."

"Thank fuck."

They finished their cigarettes in companionable silence, stubbing the butts out in near unison. Lily held her hand out for his, tucking their discards into an old Altoids case she kept for just this reason, slipped back into the pocket of her hoodie. She stared down at her own body like she could memorize the shape, burn it into her brain.

James took her hand. "You gonna be alright playing tonight?"

"Yeah." She managed a brave smile. "I'll be fine."

She probably would be. Lily was tough like that — tougher than him at any rate.

He was about to ask if she wanted him to help her pack when something behind him caught her attention, green eyes widening in alarm.

She smacked his shoulder. "James, look." Pointed towards the other side of the bridge — or past it, rather, down to the riverbed below. "Do you see that?"

And yeah, he did.

Looking back, he's not sure what made him jump down there. A hunch, maybe. Instinct. But what he was sure of was the fact that when he reached the body that had washed up on the riverbed, legs still floating in the freezing water, that body was still somehow alive.

Lily called for an ambulance, put the dispatcher on speaker so he could walk James through CPR — just keep going till they get there — and he kept time by singing Another One Bites the Dust under his breath. Black humor if he'd ever heard it, protocol or not. He studied the boy's face, deathly pale as it was, framed by half-frozen ringlets of black hair, marred by a hellish bruise on his left cheekbone. A trio of tiny moles curved along his right. Familiar.

The paramedics came, got the boy stripped down and wrapped up in one of those little tinfoil blankets, looking more like a burrito than a maybe-corpse. But he was alive — for now at least. James hoped he'd make it.

The cops hung around, poked around the riverbed. Asked James and Lily for their statements, and no, never seen him before in my life.

It was Lily who voiced the thought nagging at the back of his brain, as he walked her home. "God, he looked just like Sirius, didn't he?"

-

They agreed not to talk about it for now — not because the cops had asked, but because it was bad enough half the band was involved to begin with. No need to freak everyone out over nothing. Because it was nothing. Probably.

Lily packed a few bags and passed them out the window to him, trying to get as much out as they could before her dad came home from work, and he squirreled them away in the spare bedroom across from his. Not because his parents had any puritan ideas about them sleeping in the same bed — no point now, anyway — but rather because he thought she'd like her own space, separate from his.

Pete picked them up at four, Sirius with his feet up on the dash, Remus half hanging out the window behind them like a lanky sheepdog with his stupid shaggy mullet and even stupider mustache that no one — literally no one — could pull off but him. He drummed his hands against the side of the door, grinning.

"Hurry the fuck up, Potter! Things to be, people to do—"

"I'll fucking bite you," James growled, staggering slightly under the weight of half his drum kit. Sirius jumped out of the front seat, coming round to take the cases out of his hands and shouting at Remus to get off his ass and help (which he did, swatting Sirius firmly on the ass as he passed.)

The gig was at some little dive bar in the city — one of those ones that actually had a stage in the back, not like the last time, Pete swore. They’d been stuck in a corner awkwardly for that one, like what the fuck is up Dennys kind of awkward, playing asses to elbows. They couldn’t play like that — Sirius, especially, needed room to breathe.

If you asked any one of them what they played, you’d get a different answer. Sirius would say what if jazz had teeth? Remus would give you about fifteen different subgenres no one’d ever heard of where one would suffice — like, seriously dude, what the fuck is Djent?. Lily would leave it at shit, I dunno, metal I guess. Peter called it progressive if people didn’t know genres, math rock if they did.

James just called it music.

They’d all been band nerds, and later jazz ensemble nerds, and most of them played five or six different instruments except for Remus, who played guitar. And anyone could be forgiven for thinking that made him the weak link of the band somehow — I mean the rest of them could all switch instruments at the drop of a hat, and did sometimes just for shits and giggles. But the truth of it was that they were all just dressing on the sides: Remus was the meat and potatoes. He worshipped at the altar of Tosin Abasi, studied John Petrucci til his fingers fucking bled. Sirius and Lily played guitar; Remus was a guitarist.

This wasn’t to say that they couldn’t keep up, of course. But no one was under any illusions. The crowds they’d been attracting came to watch Sirius and Lily because they played well and they were both insanely hot. But they came to watch Remus to see the face of God.

And sure, Remus could get a bit pretentious about music in general, but he never hogged the stage. Never tried to run away with songs, just kinda grooved in place and let Sirius live out his virtuosic wet dreams in the spotlight, let Lily prove that yes, bass does deserve to be heard, #justiceforjason. They were loud and brash and percussive and strangely symphonic. And James got to accompany them, got to sit there behind his kit and somewhere between the double bass and the high hats would find himself slipping into a rhythm with them as they just fucking jammed. For two hours.

The ride home was quiet, Lily dozing in the front seat with her head against the window. Sirius lay across the backseat, Remus standing in for his pillow, James his footrest. Neither of them minded.

"You've been quiet today," Sirius observed, eyes closed. James still knew it was directed at him.

"Yeah. Long day."

"Wanna talk about it?" he asked.

James caught Lily's gaze in the mirror. She sighed, leaning back against the headrest.

"I moved in with James today."

"I thought you wanted to get your own place first," Remus asked, frowning.

"I did," she allowed, "but I didn't really feel like growing a whole ass person by myself, so…"

The whole van went dead silent as three sets of eyes snapped to her face, Pete whipping around in his seat to gawk.

"Wait, what—?"

"Dude, eyes on the fucking road!" Remus shouted, kicking the back of the driver seat just in time for the rumble strip to prompt Peter back into the correct lane.

Sirius had taken the opportunity to sit up, pulling himself forward by the backs of both seats. "Hang on, are you really?" he asked her, wide-eyed, gasping as she nodded. He turned to look at James, beaming. "No shit?"

"Yeah," James said, suddenly feeling a bit shy.

Remus shot him a wicked grin. "Swim team captain, huh?"

James kicked him in the leg, earning a sharp jab himself, the two of them continuing to trade blows around a cackling Sirius until Pete let out a sharp whistle.

"Yo!" he snapped. "Keep that shit up and I'll turn this car around."

"We're on a bridge," Lily pointed out, laughing.

"Off the bridge then, I'm not fucking picky."

"Oooh, maybe we'll end up like that kid they fished out of the river earlier," Sirius said, stretching out on his back.

"Nah, he wouldn't kill us," drawled Remus, "right Petey?"

"Debatable."

"He wasn't dead," James muttered, shooting a dark look at his friends.

Sirius scoffed. "Yeah, okay. It was freezing this morning, no fucking way he survived."

No, he did," Lily agreed.

"How do you know?"

"Because James and I found him."

The questions came rapid-fire after that: when and why and what happened and yeah I guess you did have a long day, holy shit — you okay?

He didn't know, truth be told.

But he and Lily took turns telling the story, and James described the boy’s face, the way that, for a moment, he’d thought he’d dragged Sirius out of the river. And Sirius sat up straight at that, something fierce and hungry in his face that James didn’t recognize.

“Three moles along his cheekbone, like this,” he clarified, tracing a small triangle in the exact spot. “You’re sure?”

[rentumblsstuff]

Back to the NPMD x Monster High AU, a couple more things:

I would like to rescind my Werecat Brenda in favor of Nighthawk Harpy Brenda. Yes, I know I made Kyle a werewolf to parallel Brenda being a werecat but I also have a better offer for Kyle too: Yeti, which is why he still holds a grudge against Max for wrecking his dad’s ski-doo.

I have so many thoughts on Vampire Grace. She was born a normie and is a recently turned vampire (maybe even a vampire hunter that failed on an outing and was turned by her prey). She’s having trouble coping with her religion now that she’s a monster and constantly wears turtlenecks like the one she wears in Perky’s Buds to cover up her bite marks. She tried still wearing her cross necklace as a show of rejecting this new form, trying to embrace the pain of having the cross so close because she thought that loving Jesus even when she’s a form of half-demon would make herself better than other Christians, but it hurt way too badly for her to handle so now she just says she wears it underneath her sweater. Jason was born a vampire and wants to help her through her dysphoria but Grace won’t accept anyone treating her like she’s a vampire (even though she is). She does like the part about eating flesh and drinking blood- it’s what Jesus says to do with himself, so in a way, she’s making everyone she eats a little more Christ-like. That’s her thought process, at least. She also still pretends to be human around her parents and normie best friend Gabe. Gabe may or may not know that she’s a vampire though and wants to seduce her so she can turn him too.

In High School is Killing Me, the lyric is now changed to “Fuck you, biteology.”

Max’s Jekyll form is human (Max), but his Hyde form looks like his ghost (The Jagerman).

Stachie is soooo canon because Richie loves swimming but as a werecat Stacy refuses to get in the water and they feel like their romance is especially forbidden because of it. If Richie didn’t love the water so much, he’d wish he was a werecat too because he also wants to be a pretty little kitty meow meow

Ethan, Lex, and Hannah also went there obviously and Ethan was a ghost á la Jonny Spirit and Lex and Hannah are both spider people. You know tf why lol

Ruth is a lot like Frankie Stein in that she flirts with a lot of people but they Do. Not. Flirt. Back. Rather than solid stripes, her sweater looks more like lightning bolts and the mushroom design is a little creepier than just an Amanita.

A lot of the smoke club are also nighthawk harpies (because they like eating the weed) (including Deb) and so a lot of people assume Brenda is also in the smoke club. She isn’t. Monster high typical speciesism mixed with Hatchetfield High typical bullying regardless of social hierarchy.

The Woodwards are flytraps and that’s why Alice doesn’t smoke- plants don’t do that to other plants. This is often a point of contention between Deb and Alice even though they try to pretend it isn’t an issue

Steph’s secretly embarrassed about her decay so she always makes sure her wraps are FRESH, but the rest of her outfit is always her jagged hand-cut crop tops and ripped jeans. Her decay spread to her scalp and forehead and everyone knows better than to say something about the wraps on her forehead or how she always wears a beanie but Pete accidentally tells her he thinks it makes her look even cooler. Swooning ensues because nobody dares address her flaws, much less say she’s cooler for having them.

Steph secretly wishes Pete had a corporeal form because her love language is physical touch and she’s sad she’ll never be able to hold him. (Kind of like how Cleo is sad she’ll never get to look Deuce in the eyes).

Sophia/Spitfire as a background character fire elemental is a MUST.

The janitor is a crazy man who lives in the catacombs under the school and is possessed by what the student body can only assume is a goat demon and Peter Geist feels weirdly like he knows him.

Rosary as Claire Rosary as Claire Rosary as Claire-

Pete has also died recently as one of The Jagerman’s attacks when he was out of control, and he’s new to the school along with Grace. He’s stuck in this dorky outfit he wore so he wouldn’t get bullied and can never change clothes, but at least he’s impossible to punch unless if another spirit tried to attack him. As opposed to Grace in life, he was very interested in the supernatural (one of his special interests) so he knows quite a bit about monster types but is always hungry to learn more about the new world he found himself un-living in

[mrs-weasley-reid]

BUBBLEGUM BAIT

Aaron Hotchner x undercoveragent!reader

Sypnosis: Aaron goes undercover to rescue you. Turns out, you were already planning your escape. WARNING: curse words, violence, sexual advances, and innuendos (and more, tell me if you spot them) A/N: this is my first Aaron Hotchner post, have mercy lol.

Derek whistled, a mischievous grin plastered on his face. "Old money, hot daddy."

Emily burst out laughing, throwing her head back against her seat. David gave his best—he really didn't—to fight the chuckle threatening to rattle out of him, settling for a tight-lipped smirk.

"I was going to say that!" Penelope argued, turning to Hotch with a huge grin on her face. "Them ladies are 'bout to get an extremely Hotch meal."

Aaron depressingly placed a hand over his forehead, weighing all his options and regretting all his decisions. His ears glowed bright pink.

It wasn't like he had never worn a suit before, but this suit wasn't particularly the same as the ones he wore every day. This one smelled strong and titillating, radiating opulence and grandeur.

His hair was out of control as if he was a rabid man. The cologne that laced on the sides of his neck was reminiscent of asshole and arrogance. It would've been fine if he was still in college, but he was four decades into his lifetime, for Pete's sake.

He felt a hand squeeze his shoulder, turning to find the culprit of his demise. "You don't have to do this, Agent Hotchner." The woman with salt and pepper hair gave him an apologetic look.

— ✦ — ✦ ✦ — ✦ ✦ ✦

"We're still working on identifying the victim. It's like she never lived here." Penelope stated as she pressed a button on the remote control.

"That's because she didn't." They all turned to find a woman in her sixties, accompanied by a younger man half her age. She stepped inside the conference room, "Jeanne Renaud, chief of the Lyon Interpol Headquarters."

Aaron stood up, offering a hand. "Aaron Hotchner." He gave her a curt nod. "I didn't get any notice about your arrival. We're unfortunately about to work on a case."

A tight-lipped smile ran along her lips, motioning for the man behind her.

The man began to distribute folders around the table just as she started to speak once more.

"The victim is Liliane Zairsev. She's from Paris and a suspected victim of sex trafficking. A month ago, we found out that this organization was moving here to America. One of us was tasked to work undercover. We haven't heard from that agent in a week. Three days later, we heard the news about dead women who had the same victimology as the ones in the file Liam handed out." She breathed deeply, crossing her arms close to her chest.

"Thirty-two victims?" David raised an eyebrow. If three was a horrifying sign in their line of jobs, he couldn't imagine the terror of the number he just mentioned.

"We need our agent back, Agent Hotchner. We need your help." Jeanne pleaded, worry flickering in her eyes.

— ✦ — ✦ ✦ — ✦ ✦ ✦

"The night starts with auctions. There are two types of categories, dine in or take out. We're not sure which one she's in. We don't even know if she really is there. No matter what, once you find her, fight for her worth." Liam explained, checking the wires that hung like vines around Aaron's body.

Aaron kept silent, running every possible outcome in his head. He wasn't new to auction events, but how would he show eagerness rather than desperation? How was he going to save you without everyone figuring out that he was a federal agent and possibly risking both of your lives?

Liam straightened himself, signaling to Aaron that he was done. "Dine in or take out. As long as you choose an exclusive package deal, they will grant you a private room. That's where they would possibly prepare her for—" He paused, clenching his jaw.

As your close friend, he wasn't comfortable talking about you in such disrespectful ways. But Liam knew how vital every single piece of information he gave Aaron was.

"—your pleasure... She will likely be sedated, but she fights like a lion. Just calm her down and get her out of that hell hole."

It didn't take a whole team of profilers to know that Jeanne and Liam didn't merely take this mission as part of their job. It was personal. It was family. You were their family, and they wanted you back.

"I'll get her back." Aaron promised, earning a nod from the younger man. He plugged the earbud that Liam handed him.

Everyone waited for Aaron in front of the building. Some of them, Penelope and Derek, have yet to fade their teasing smiles.

But JJ was the one who had an encouraging smile, "You look good." She said as she dusted the lapel over his shoulders. "Take her back home to her family."

David threw a set of keys in his direction, "Don't hurt her. She's the only wife that stayed for more than ten years."

Aaron let out a small chuckle, eyeing a 1984 black Cadillac Eldorado Biarritz convertible. "I'll bring her back by midnight." He got in the driver's seat, feeling the texture of the wheel.

If only David had the kindness to whip his vintage cars out every case, Aaron would've loosened up the lines on his forehead.

"Always remember, we're inside your head." Emily pointed at her ear, creepily grinning at him

"We'll be following you too, of course. We're going to surround the place, so don't hesitate to call us in." Derek added, chuckling at Emily's words.

Aaron nodded, taking a deep breath. Now or never.

— ✦ — ✦ ✦ — ✦ ✦ ✦

"Struggling will only make it hurt more." The man with sculpted arms growled, glowering at your smaller body compared to him.

Cuffs bit the skin around your wrists and ankles. Cold hovered all over your exposed skin. With the little amount of coverage on your body, naked was the closest you could describe yourself.

The man held you by the neck, treating you like an animal for exhibition. He was getting off your winces. How a small whimper would shiver out of your lips when he dragged you too fast. He thought he could do them to you just because you were sedated.

If he only knew how much you wanted to smash his face on the wall. But you had to keep an act.

Besides, that was all he could do. Watch. Because you were for other people to ogle at. For disgusting, cowardly men who couldn't make their wives cum, much less you, even if you tried.

You were a new addition to their attraction. Tonight was your first night. And you planned for it to be the last.

A woman who was trying her best to avoid eye contact with you walked the opposite way of where you were headed. She carried a tray, where a small letter knife sat seductively.

Half of her face was lined by a scar, dragging diagonally across her left temple down to her right cheek. Although the scar was visible, you couldn't help but notice how beautiful her eyes were. They were of bright grey-blue.

Without missing your chance, you purposely bumped into her, falling on your feet. "Sorry," You weakly smirked, swiping the knife in a blink of an eye.

"You fucking bitch! Look where you're going, you ugly shit!" The man shouted at the woman, kicking the tray in the middle of her picking it up.

You drilled in your head how many times you would apologize to her when you managed to escape the place and watch it crumble down during your arrest.

"It was my fault," You defended timidly. Despite the mental promise of keeping an act of being sedated, you couldn't just stand there and let her take all the blame.

The man glared at you and swung his arm. You prepared for the harsh impact, but another guy called out his name.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing? Are you fucking stupid?!" The other man yelled; he had blonde hair and an awful beard.

You took that chance to slip the knife on your back, strapped under your bra's band, hiding it beneath the cascade of your hair. You bit your bottom lip, your movement causing a slight sting to shoot down your spine. At least you were certain that the knife was sharp.

The blonde man yanked you to his side protectively, as if what he was about to do was going to be a god-like behavior. "She's a new attraction. No one would pay if she's damaged. A bruise would lose us thousands of dollars, you stupid fuck." He lectured the other, nudging you to move.

— ✦ — ✦ ✦ — ✦ ✦ ✦

Aaron immediately felt dirty just by standing amongst the men that impatiently waited for some tits to jiggle or ass to bounce across the one-way mirror.

Each of them either held wads of cash or a glass of their chosen drinks. Most of them were wealthy nobodies, but Aaron recognized a few politicians from distant cities.

He lifted a glass close to his lips. Aaron has been catering the drink for a good two hours now, sipping little drops to keep himself sober and alert.

So far, he hasn't seen you. There just might be hope that you were simply in hiding but safe regardless. He has seen fifteen women being shown off like antiques, the men screaming for their high prices. If he could only buy all of them to safety, he would. But Aaron was there for you and you only.

"Gentlemen! Here's our special and last beauty of the night! She's new! Fresh! And untouched! She is available for dine in to the highest bidder!"

Aaron's grip on his glass tightened.

— ✦ — ✦ ✦ — ✦ ✦ ✦

Jeanne slid a picture of you toward Aaron. "She's a brave one." Her breath hitched, fighting the urge to cry in front of profilers.

Your hair was tied up away from your face, revealing all your beautiful facial features. You were no doubt a gorgeous woman.

But besides your attractive face, Aaron's eyes were drawn to the gold necklace that sat on your chest. It was a gladiolus flower. A hidden smile spread over his lips.

It symbolizes strength and power. He immediately knew you were someone who always put up a fight.

— ✦ — ✦ ✦ — ✦ ✦ ✦

Your hair almost hid the beauty of your face, but Aaron recognized the necklace around your neck even from afar. It was you.

"$20,000!"

"$50,000!"

"50! Anyone want to top that? What? I heard $80,000!"

"100,000 dollars!"

Aaron stared at your dagger, glaring eyes. He let a smirk twitch his lips.

You knew.

You knew where you were. You knew men were fighting for you. You knew. Which meant, you weren't sedated at all.

"Smart girl," He mumbled to himself before announcing, "Five billion."

The crowd went quiet. And if Aaron had been honest, he would've paid more because you were worth more.

Sadly, the bureau had a budget. He had to limit himself to 500 thousand and could move to 1 million if needed, but he'd explain his actions in the privacy of his office later on.

In that moment, he only needed to rescue you.

The announcer grinned maniacally, hitting the gavel against the sounding block. "One night dine in with this beauty, sold!"

— ✦ — ✦ ✦ — ✦ ✦ ✦

You weren't sure what type of man was unlucky enough to buy your time tonight. You bet he wouldn't expect a violent woman like you.

In spite of your display earlier, you were now clothed with more fabric. Lace to be specific.

They made you change into a black lace set. The bra pushed up every tits you could offer. A cheeky underwear that made your ass rounder. A garter around your waist that hooked on your black stockings that hugged your thighs deliciously.

You moved the letter knife on your right thigh. Easy access under the short black satin nightgown. You were prepared for battle.

The door swung open and came in the blonde man who seemed to keep his eyes on you. "Sit on the chair." He demanded.

You internally protested but obliged. He placed back your handcuffs, bringing your wrists together. In his mind, there was no other way for you to escape but the door.

"This guy paid a lot for your time. Don't mess up. Or I'm going to make you regret it." He threatened before leaving the room.

— ✦ — ✦ ✦ — ✦ ✦ ✦

The payment process was crucial. Money was an immediate factor, and Aaron mentally apologized to David for using his card and for memorizing his bank account information.

They led him down a hall filled with private rooms. Pornographic noises echoed as they passed each door. Most were from men. And if the voice of a woman managed to vibrate across the walls, they were a plea to be let go.

Aaron swore his ears were bleeding with disgust.

"This will be your room, Sir. Enjoy." The man excitedly said. He leaned a little, placing a hand on the side of his mouth to hide the words he was about to say, "I say you get the best out of this one. Everyone's dying to get a taste."

He managed to hold his fists back, urging a smug smirk to roll over his lips. "Then, I suggest you don't disturb us," Aaron stated before watching the man nod and walk away.

Aaron held the knob with hesitation. He wasn't sure of what he was going to be met with. He took a deep breath and twisted the knob, pushing the door open.

There you were, sat on a chair, patiently waiting for him.

The image was to be treasured, but Aaron had to remind himself that he wasn't any similar to the men who frequented that place.

A spark flickered in your eyes. Your lips slowly curved onto a smirk. "Hey, old man." You started in a teasing tone. "You can't just stand there and keep the door open."

Aaron's eyebrows knitted, but closed the door nonetheless after checking that the coast was clear from listening ears. "I'm Aaron Hotchner—" You cut him off.

"Strip." You casually ordered, taking him by surprise.

He studied you for a moment, keeping his mouth from any type of noise. Were you sober? Was his first question.

"What are you? A cop? Fed? It's fine. It doesn't matter. Now, Aaron, strip. They're watching." Your head motioned towards the direction of the camera in the corner of the ceiling.

He took off his jacket and then began to undo his tie. "Fed. How did you know? We were thorough on my... disguise." Aaron couldn't believe he was referring to his appearance as a disguise.

You rolled your eyes, "A fine-looking man like you doesn't look the type to wear a wrinkly shirt. You're obviously wired." Your voice echoed in a matter-of-fact tone. "You took your first step with your left foot when you got inside the room, but it's clear to me that your dominant is your right. You have a gun. Which I think is pretty impractical. Come closer, you're here to fuck me, remember?" Your brows were raised, impatient for him to move.

Aaron would be lying if he said your words weren't affecting him. "You have a good eye." He stood before you, glowering down your face.

"Or you're just a bad undercover." You smirked, "What are you waiting for? Kiss me."

A silent huff escaped your lips when he froze. You stood up and began unbuttoning his shirt. "You're very quick to have cold feet, Agent Hotchner." The way his name rolled off your tongue was distracting.

"Hold my waist—" You swiftly grabbed his hands and placed them on your sides, "—once you have a character to play, you embody it. Because it'll get us both killed if you don't." You kissed a little of his exposed chest and looked up at him with a hairpin stuck between your lips. "Now, kiss me." You repeated in a muffled sound.

Aaron finally caught up with your plans. He leaned down and owned your lips, kissing the pin from you. With one hand, he took the pin and reattached your lips together as he began to unlock your cuffs from between your bodies.

You pulled him closer, tugging his belt loops. You led the two of you on the corner of the room, under the vision of the camera. And just as your back made contact with the wall, you felt your hands free.

You pulled away with a gasp of relief, "Thank god, I thought I had to fuck your brains out before you could even understand." You heaved, rotating your wrist to let the blood circulate once again.

Aaron looked away, "Sorry." He couldn't help but notice your closeness.

"Mhm, must be that old-fashioned you've been sipping like coffee."

His gaze shifted back to you. The taste might've been lingering on his lips, but the action he took? How did you know he was taking his time with his drink? Aaron would think that you're a profiler if he didn't know any better.

"You owe me a bubblegum," You exclaimed, pulling him back from his trance. "I prefer a proper old fashioned. Whoever made your drink was pitiful."

Aaron raised a brow, "I'll pay you a box of bubblegum just for that statement." His eyes were drawn to your purple wrists. "Did they hurt you?" He asked, fanning his breath on your skin.

"They wouldn't even if they wanted to. My beauty has never failed to save my ass." You chuckled, getting a whiff of his scent. Your nose crinkled, "Who made you wear that nasty cologne?"

He chuckled at your expression, "Jeanne."

Your face softened, nodding. "Makes sense. She has bad taste in men."

Aaron was having too much fun, when a voice echoed in his head.

"Hotch, are you there? If you don't answer, we're going to barge in."

He pressed the microphone, "We're fine."

"We?" Derek questioned from the other line.

Aaron told the team that he'd found you, using your first name with such gentleness in his voice. "We're about to make our way out." He announced, still flushed against you, caging you in his build.

"[Earlier, she was just 'the victim,' but now, you're on a first-name basis?" Emily teased, which Aaron rolled his eyes on.

Your brows knitted, confused by his expressions. While he busied himself chatting with whoever was speaking in his ear, you began climbing on him like he was a ladder.

You fished your knife and cut the wire of the camera. Aaron's height was a huge help for you to reach such a high place.

He helped you get down, gently holding your waist to guide you. "Don't tell me you were already planning to escape?" Aaron was filled with amusement.

"I was going to kill you if you weren't a fed." You shrugged, walking out of his body cage. You picked up his jacket from the floor, "Mind if I borrow this?"

"It doesn't suit me anyways," Aaron kidded, earning a soft smile from your still plumped lips.

"[Oh, really?]" Derek taunted in his ear. Snickers rang through the speaker, and Aaron was thankful that you couldn't hear anything.

You glanced back at him, "Tell your friends we're on our way out. They should meet us halfway. The guys outside are not skilled in combat, but they have guns. We'd be dead before they can even shout 'hallelujah' if they don't move now." You slipped your arms inside the sleeves of the jacket.

The jacket could almost swallow your whole body. You rolled the sleeves up a little, allowing yourself some movement. Aaron couldn't take his eyes off you. He loved the way his clothes looked way better on you, even if it wasn't his in the first place.

"Did you get that?" Aaron spoke to his ear, nodding when he got a confirmation. He glanced at you with a stern look, and you two would never admit the small tug on his lips. "Let's get you out of here."

You scoffed, "Your help is just a bonus. I'm saving myself out of this hell."

With silent agreement, you opened the door, immediately greeted by two men who were about to check on your state.

"Hey—"

You didn't give one of them a chance to finish shouting when you kicked the protrusion on his neck straight into the center of his throat.

Aaron's eyes widened. Did France Interpol really need the BAU's help? You definitely didn't look like you did.

You took the two men all by yourself, stepping on someone's back as you placed a hand on your hip. You stared at Aaron with disbelief. "You just gonna stand there?"

Before he could even respond, Aaron saw a man about to attack you from behind. He pulled you by the waist with one hand and punched the man with the other.

"You okay?" Aaron twisted his neck in your direction, hand still on your waist.

A wide grin swiped over your lips, adrenaline pumping through your veins. And your body moved like it was dancing to upbeat music.

The two of you fought your way out of the hallway. It made every second of waiting to escape worth it.

By the time the team met you, you and Aaron had beaten up about half of the men in the place, minus those who were merely guests.

— ✦ — ✦ ✦ — ✦ ✦ ✦

Jeanne attacked you with a tight embrace, cutting your air supply. "I'm so glad you're safe! Oh, mon dieu!"

Next came Liam, punching your arm. He offered a welcoming smile. "I told you to always keep your tracker with you." He scolded lightly.

"I did!" You reasoned, a playful smile over your face. "I swallowed it, but I didn't expect to shit it out and flush it down the toilet." If you were lying it would've been way easier, but you weren't.

The BAU team introduced themselves one by one. You flashed them the same sweet smile you had on your picture.

"Behavioral analysis unit..." You nodded in thought. "Sounds real." You added with a teasing smile.

Their eyes couldn't help but notice how Aaron's jacket still sat around your shoulders. They weren't so slick as they thought, "It's collateral." You lifted your shoulders.

They looked at you with narrowed eyes. A chuckle coming out of your lips, you motioned your head in Aaron's direction where he was talking to Jeanne and a short-haired, dirty blonde woman.

"He owes me," You announced playfully.

Spencer was the first to furrow his brows closer than it already was. Why would their boss owe you? Aaron saved you. If anything, you owe his unit chief.

"I can hear you judging me, Dr. Reid." You said without moving your gaze onto his. "Is that a side effect of being a genius?"

Emily's mouth flung open, "How'd you know he's a genius? He looks like one, right? Right?" She was friendlier than you had concluded.

You smiled, glancing at Spencer. "I've been an undercover for sixteen years. Reading someone became my second nature. I suspect it's the same for all of you since you can't stop knitting your brows as if you're reading a difficult textbook."

"Sixteen? How old are you?" Derek had a great estimation of your age; everyone did.

"She's thirty-six. So old, right?" Liam wrapped an arm around you, grinning.

"You started when you were twenty?" Spencer curiously asked. An underlying question in his mind. How?

You pursed your lips, a small pop echoing between all of you. "You know those movies where the character was raised to her parents' trophy?" They nodded simultaneously, like children eager for their mother's story. "My life was kind of like that." You explained carefully.

The others joined you, making short eye contact with Aaron. Jeanne stood next to you. "And we're sad that she's retiring." She announced lightly.

JJ looked at you in awe. You were only a few years older than her. It was inspiring to hear your story. "What are you gonna do after you retire?"

"Find a job that's less undercover work, but still occupies most of my days. Old habits die hard." In short, you didn't have a plan. All you knew was that after the case, you didn't want to work as undercover anymore.

"Come work with us!" Penelope blurted, earning everyone's attention. She glanced at Aaron, "We have an opening. Right, Hotch?" A sly smile decorated her cheery face.

Aaron raised his eyebrows, then met your gaze. He still owed you a box of bubblegum if he remembers clearly. And seeing your gorgeous face and watching you take down unsub more often didn't sound like such a horrible idea.

He bit the threatening smirk on his lips. "Yeah, I think we do."

[the-winter-spider]

The View Between Villages: Part Three

Word Count:3.9k

Pairings: Bucky x reader, TASM!Peter x Reader

A/N: I changed the title, it use to be ‘Love You More’ but this felt more fitting because well multiverse lol

Master list

Part One, Part Two,

———

“You’re so cool,” Peter 3 grinned, his eyes lighting up like a child on Christmas morning. A warm sensation spread through you at his enthusiasm.

“I mean, you have ‘superpowers’ too,” you replied.

He nodded, still beaming. “Yes, but yours are better.”

You allowed a genuine smile to form. “Well, too bad we couldn’t swap for a day to put that theory to the test.”

“Crazier things have happened,” the older Peter added from the corner of the room.

“Yeah, what’s going on?” you gestured between them.

“Well, I can’t tell you the full story from your Peter’s side, but I was just doing my nightly patrol when suddenly it was daytime, I was here, and it wasn’t my New York anymore.”

You turned to the older Peter. “About the same for me. I wasn’t on patrol, though. Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” he replied.

“Do you know how time works here? Because I have someone back home—in my universe, and it’s always been almost a full day.”

“A full day? You’ve been here twenty-four hours already?” He looked alarmed at your tone.

You stood up, clutching your side as you walked toward the window. The two Peters exchanged frantic glances, as if they had just realised something critical.

“H-he tried to call you earlier, but we told him n-not t—”

You glanced over your shoulder. “Lying for him already, Parker?”

“W-what? No!” Peter 1 stammered.

You struggled to open the window because of your wound, and tall Peter hurried over to assist. He leaned against the window sill as you stuck your hand outside, closing your eyes. “Time moves faster here. A minute there is an hour here, vice versa.” Your eyes shot open, glowing white.

“Holy shi—” The Peters exclaimed in unison, their voices blending together as you reached out to the universe you came from.

The door burst open, and your Peter rushed in, followed by Ned and MJ. His senses were on high alert. “What’s going on?!” he asked, his eyes zeroing in on you.

“We don’t know. She wanted the window open, then she stuck her hand out, closed her eyes, said something about time here, and then—boom—her eyes went white,” Peter 1 explained.

Your Peter moved toward you carefully, shaking you gently. “Y/n?! Y/n?! What’s happening?”

You could hear the chatter around you, making out sound waves but not fully understanding the situation. You sensed the anxiety in the room but stayed focused. You saw it—the multiverse breaking apart, tearing at the seams. Each crack in the timeline was visible, coming from your universe, with Peter playing a role in delivering the final blow.

A small voice pierced through the chaos, your Peter’s voice. “You’re scaring me, Y/n. Please stop.”

You closed your eyes and opened them again, focusing on everyone in the room. You struggled to keep your balance.

“What was that?” Peter asked quietly.

“The multiverse is shattered,” you replied.

Your Peter placed his hands on his hips. “Well, yeah,” he gestured to the other two Spider-Men. “That’s why they’re here.”

“No, Pete, that’s not what I mean,” you ran a hand through your hair. “God, this is so bad. Have you heard from Strange?”

Peter turned to Ned and MJ. All three wore guilt on their faces. “About that…”

“What did you do, Pete? I need the full story now. This is so bad.”

Peter 3 stepped forward. “I hate to interrupt, but you’re bleeding. You must have ripped your stitches.”

You glanced down and noticed blood seeping through the bandages. “Screw this,” you muttered, ripping off the white wrap and starting to pull out stitches.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, no!” Fluffy-haired Peter started waving his hands.

Your Peter put a hand out to stop him. “No, she’s going to heal them.”

“How is that—” Peter 3 pointed at you pulling out the final stitch, “—going to heal them?”

“Just watch.”

They all did. You closed your eyes, a soft humming emanated from your throat, barely audible to those with heightened senses. A glow began to illuminate from your hands, your skin around the claw marks glowing as it mended back together.

Your Peter moved closer, knowing you would be exhausted afterward. He had seen you nearly collapse after healing Tony.

“Holy shit,” Peter 3 breathed.

“Yeah, what he said,” the eldest Peter agreed, stunned.

You opened your eyes and began to lean back, but Peter caught you. “Thanks, Pete.”

“Let’s get you to the couch. I have a lot to tell you.”

“That you do,” you replied, sinking onto the couch.

“That was so cool, Miss. Y/L/N!” Ned said, awe in his voice.

You chuckled. “Thanks, Ned.”

“So, start talking.”

And he did, recounting everything in a jumbled sentence. You had known Peter long enough to piece together the story.

Rubbing your temples “You're telling me Strange, our Doctor Strange cast a spell for you, because everyone knows who you are and you couldn’t get into MIT because of it? And everyone that knows Peter Parker is Spiderman from other universes, is here?”

He nodded. “I know it’s so bad.”

“Wait, so where is Strange?”

“Well, um, I kind of left him in the Mirror Dimension.”

“I can’t believe this.” You placed your head in your hands, shaking your head.

“I know it’s bad, Y/n. I messed up so badly, but I’m going to—”

You stood up, heading toward the door. “Y/n, please don’t go. I need your help. I do—”

“I’m not going to leave you, Pete. I promise. I just need a minute. This is a lot.” You squeezed his shoulder gently. “Plus, you need to get them”—you pointed at Ned and MJ—“somewhere safe, and that isn’t here.”

MJ shook her head. “No way. We’re staying right here.”

You glanced over his shoulder. “Unless either of you have superpowers or abilities I’m not aware of, then you go. I’m not going to be responsible for someone else’s death.” With that, you shut the door behind you and headed for the roof.

“She’s so cool,” Ned whispered in awe.

MJ turned to him. “She just kicked us out.”

Ned nodded vigorously. “Yeah, we just got kicked out of an Avenger safe house by an Avenger. So cool.”

MJ gave a small smile. “Kinda cool.”

Peter 1 turned to them. “She’s right, though. You should go somewhere far from all of this.”

“I can portal us to my Lola’s,” Ned offered.

MJ lifted up Doctor Strange’s box. “But we’re taking this with us.”

“Good idea,” Peter 1 said, nodding. “Let’s go.”

As they left, Peter 1 and Peter 3 exchanged a worried glance. They knew the situation was dire, and you needed all the help you could get.

As Ned and MJ left the safe house, you took a deep breath on the roof, trying to steady yourself. The cool night air helped clear your mind, though the weight of the situation still pressed heavily on you. You closed your eyes, focusing on the soothing rhythm of your breathing, and tried to gather your thoughts.

A moment later, Peter joined you on the roof, his presence a quiet comfort. He stood beside you, looking out over the city, the lights below flickering like a sea of stars. “Y/n, I—”

“Don’t,” you interrupted, holding up a hand. “We’ll talk about it later. Right now, we need a plan.”

Peter hesitated but then nodded, taking a deep breath. “Okay. But we need to figure out what to do next. Strange said we have to fix the multiverse before it collapses completely.”

You turned to him, determination steeling your gaze. “Yes. We need to find Strange and fix this mess. But first, we have to deal with the immediate threat.”

“Right,” Peter agreed, though the worry in his voice was unmistakable. “But how are we going to do that? We don’t have a lab or anything… I don’t even know how we’re supposed to send the other Peters back.” His voice began to rise in panic.

You stepped forward and grasped his hands, grounding him. “It’s all going to be okay, alright?”

He searched your eyes, his own filled with uncertainty. “H-how do you know? How can you be so sure?”

“I’m not,” you admitted, pausing to let the weight of the situation settle between you. “But this isn’t the craziest thing that’s happened. And we figured it out all those other times.”

Peter took a deep breath, your words offering him some comfort. “You’re right. We’ve been through worse, and we’ve always managed to pull through.”

You gave him a small, encouraging smile. “Exactly. So let’s focus. We need to gather everyone and come up with a plan. We may not have a lab, but we have each other—and that’s more important.”

Peter nodded, the panic in his eyes subsiding as resolve took its place. “You’re right. We’ll figure it out together.”

As you both turned to head back down from the roof, a sudden thought crossed your mind. “Peter… this time, no one goes off on their own, okay? We stick together.”

Peter glanced back at you, his expression serious. “Agreed. No more solo missions.” He started to head back down but paused when he noticed you weren’t following. “Are you coming?”

You clutched your phone, feeling the weight of the moment. “In a minute, okay? I just need a minute.”

Peter’s gaze softened as he glanced at your phone, understanding dawning in his eyes. “Okay,” he said quietly before jumping down, leaving you alone on the rooftop.

—

Flashback: The Safehouse

The rain poured heavily outside, drumming a steady rhythm against the roof of the safehouse. It was late—everyone else had already gone to bed. Steve was sprawled out on the couch, his face turned toward the back cushions as he tried to catch some sleep. Sam and Natasha were in the tiny bedrooms, their doors closed but not locked, ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice.

You sat at the small kitchen table, nursing a mug of tea. The flickering candlelight was the only illumination, casting a warm glow across the room. You were exhausted but too wired to sleep. The constant worry, the fear that at any moment the government would burst through that door and take away your friends—no, your family—kept your thoughts racing. Only a handful of people knew about this place, and three of them were fugitives in hiding. You were the fourth, and Fury and Tony were the other two. Signing the Accords had been a difficult decision, one that left Steve more than a little pissed, but you had seen the bigger picture. You needed to stay on Tony’s good side to protect Bucky and Steve, and when you helped Steve break everyone out of the Raft, bringing them here was the only option. The relief you felt when your access code worked after Steve’s and Natasha’s were denied still clung to you. But now Tony knew where your loyalties lay, and you knew you would have to make it up to him somehow.

A soft creak came from the hallway, making your heart skip a beat. But then, Bucky appeared, his silhouette barely visible in the dim light. He looked like a shadow of the man you once knew, but there was something about his presence that always brought you comfort.

“Couldn’t sleep?” you asked softly as he stepped into the light, his hair still damp from his earlier shower, hanging loose around his face.

He shook his head, the corners of his mouth turning up in a faint smile. “You either, huh?”

You shook your head and pushed the chair out with your foot, offering him a seat beside you. This Bucky wouldn’t just sit unless asked. “Want some tea? It’s chamomile.”

Bucky sat down next to you, his metal hand brushing lightly against your arm as he did. “Sure, if you don’t mind.”

You poured him a cup, the steam rising between you like a curtain. He took it, wrapping both hands around the mug, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence was thick, filled with all the unspoken words and shared pain that neither of you knew how to express.

“I’ve been thinking,” Bucky said finally, his voice a low rumble that matched the thunder outside.

“About what?” you asked, glancing up at him. His eyes were distant, lost in thought, but he was here, with you, and that was all that mattered right now—that’s all that ever mattered to him: you.

“About how different things could have been… if none of this had happened. If I hadn’t—” He trailed off, his gaze dropping to the table, as if the weight of his past was too much to hold.

You reached out without hesitation, placing your hand over his. The metal was cold, but you didn’t mind. “You can’t change the past, Buck…none of us can, but you’re here now, and that’s what matters.”

His blue eyes softened as they met yours. “I don’t deserve this… Any of it. Steve… you… keeping me safe when I’ve only ever brought trouble.”

“You’re not trouble, Bucky… You never were, and you never will be. Those things that they did... You’re just a man trying to make things right, and you don’t have to do it alone.” You squeezed his hand gently, hoping he could feel the sincerity in your words.

He looked at you for a long moment, the storm raging outside forgotten as the warmth of your hand seeped into his cold one. “You always knew… know what to say, don’t you?”

You smiled, a soft laugh escaping your lips. “Not always, only with Steve and you, but I’ve had a lot of practice when it comes to you.”

Bucky’s expression softened even more, and for the first time in a long while, there was a hint of peace in his eyes. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, doll.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the nickname you hadn’t heard in decades. “You don’t have to find out,” you replied, your voice tender. “We’re in this together, no matter what happens, you always have me, Buck.”

He nodded, setting the tea down and reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. The gesture was so gentle, so intimate, that it made your heart ache. “You’re too good to me, too good for me. You always have been.”

“And you’re worth it,” you whispered, leaning into his touch. “You always will be.”

For a moment, the world outside ceased to exist. The rain, the fear, the constant running—it all faded away. There were just the two of you, sitting at a small kitchen table, sharing a quiet moment in the midst of chaos.

Bucky’s hand slipped from your face to your shoulder, and he gently pulled you closer until your head rested against his chest. You could hear his heartbeat, steady and real, a reminder that despite everything, he was alive. You both were.

“Thank you,” he murmured into your hair, his voice so quiet you almost missed it.

“For what?”

“For being here, for not giving up on me.” His arms tightened around you as if he feared you might slip away.

“I’ll never give up on you, Bucky. Not ever.”

And for the first time in what felt like forever, he believed you.

—-

Present

Your finger hovered over Bucky’s name, but before you could press the call button, the screen lit up, displaying all the missed calls from him—each one a silent plea. The last one was over a week ago, and your voicemail was full. A sinking feeling settled in your chest; this fight might be your last.

The phone started ringing again. You hesitated, your breath catching as you debated whether to answer. On the second ring, you gave in, pressing the phone to your ear. The sound of banging and a door slamming filled the silence before Bucky’s voice broke through, desperate and familiar.

“Doll? Is that you?” His voice was hoarse, tinged with panic and uncertainty.

Your throat tightened, the words trapped inside you. You couldn’t find your voice, couldn’t push past the fear and doubt gnawing at you.

“P-please say something. Anything,” he pleaded, his voice cracking under the weight of his worry.

You tried to speak, but nothing came out. Your mouth opened and closed, but still, the words refused to form. You hadn’t thought this far ahead, hadn’t prepared yourself for this moment.

When he began to say, “I love—” you ended the call abruptly, your heart pounding as the silence that followed pressed down on you. You cursed yourself, frustration and regret tangling in your chest.

Two steps forward and one step back. But did you even take those steps forward? It felt like one giant leap backward, and now, you were left standing on the edge, unsure of where to go next.

The night buzzed around you, oblivious to the turmoil in your heart. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the weight of everything—the missed calls, the unspoken words, the looming threat—pulled you down.

After a moment, you forced yourself to move, standing up and putting your phone away. There was no time to dwell on what you couldn’t change. The fight was far from over, and you had a promise to keep—no more solo missions.

With that thought, you stood up, ready to head back down, when you felt someone approaching from behind.

“Hey, are you okay?” Peter 3 asked, his voice gentle. “I know we don’t know each other well, but I felt like I needed to check on you. Peter—your Peter—said he didn’t want to pester you, but I told him I didn’t mind because, well, this isn’t my universe, so it didn’t matter.”

You slipped your phone into your pants pocket and offered a small smile. “Wow, you really are the same, right down to the rambling.”

He laughed, his head tilting back slightly. “Y’know, I’m gonna let that slide because you probably—no, most definitely—could kick my ass.”

You shrugged. “You said it, not me.”

Peter’s expression turned thoughtful. “I’ve been thinking about the multiverse and how it works. You seem to know more than me, obviously, and I was wondering if you knew anything about, like, cosmic connections. It’s weird—we don’t have a you in my universe, at least I don’t think so—but I still feel this trusting, comfortable vibe with you.”

He looked at you with a warmth that starkly contrasted with the cold night air. There was a kindness in his eyes that reminded you of your Peter, but there was something different about it—more tangible, more urgent.

“It’s because of Peter,” you said softly. “He and I were close, and even though we’re from different universes, I feel like that connection is still there.” You thought about the countless universes out there, somewhere you got to live peacefully, where you had a happy ending with Bucky, or where Steve didn’t leave.

Peter nodded slowly. “Makes sense. When I lost Gwen, I hoped that if there were other universes, one where she was okay and happy, even if it meant I didn't get that happiness, yknow?”

“Maybe you just haven’t met your ‘MJ’ yet,” you suggested, thinking of how the other Peters had found their own versions of happiness.

Peter’s eyes brightened with hope. “Maybe, i hope so.”

You managed a small smile. “I’ll manifest it for you, Parker. You deserve your happy ending.”

“We all do,” he agreed. He paused, then asked, “You never answered my question—are you okay?”

A shaky breath escaped you. “Honestly? I don’t think I’ll ever be okay. I’ve been trying to do good, to save people, but it feels like nothing changes. I’m tired of giving and giving—I just want to take something for once.”

Peter’s gaze softened, understanding written all over his face. “I ask myself that all the time. It should be enough, but sometimes it just isn’t.”

You nodded, feeling tears well up in your eyes. “I’ve been asking that question for years.”

Peter smiled gently. “You deserve so much more. You’re amazing.”

A shiver ran down your spine as a gust of wind blew by. You tried to shake off the cold, pulling your jacket tighter around you.

Peter chuckled softly. “Was that you?”

You laughed lightly. “I don’t know what Ned told you, but our world can still make gusts of wind without my help.”

Peter’s cheeks flushed the same colour as his suit. “Sorry.”

“You’re forgiven—just this once,” you said with a teasing smile.

Peter’s eyes lit up with curiosity, and you could see the inner turmoil in him, the battle between wanting to ask more questions and holding back. To save him the struggle, you took a deep breath and decided to share more of your story.

“I was born on June 3rd, 1920, in New York. I met Bucky and Steve in 1930. We were inseparable. When Bucky and Steve went off to war, both were declared dead—but obviously, that wasn’t true.”

You left out the more painful details, not from mistrust but from fear of reliving them. “I found out in 1945, about both of them at the same time. I don’t remember much—it was overwhelming.” You paused, looking at Peter, his brown eyes full of reassurance. “I ran to our spot and cried for hours. I must have fallen asleep because the next morning, I woke up in 2012.”

Peter’s eyes widened in disbelief. “And your powers?”

“I woke up with those too,” you explained. “Bruce said I must have been born with them, but something in my family’s bloodline and the trauma triggered them. Nature thought I needed to be protected, that what I have is sacred, or that I wasn’t needed yet. Everyone has a purpose, and this was mine.”

“Like destiny,” Peter murmured.

“Something like that.”

Peter leaned forward, intrigued. “So, you, your two best friends—all born over a hundred years ago—got superpowers and crossed paths again in the 20th century?”

You nodded. “Yep.”

Peter made a gesture as if his mind had just exploded. “My universe seems so mundane compared to yours.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” you replied, a hint of a smile on your lips. “I’ve seen your villains. It’s far from boring.”

Peter reached up to scratch the back of his head, looking sheepish. “Yeah, um… sorry about that. So, where are your other two, hundred-year-old friends?”

You shifted uncomfortably. “Steve went back to the 1940s to be with Peggy. Bucky’s still here, but… we don’t really talk much anymore.”

Peter’s expression softened with sympathy. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine” You shrugged

“You say that a lot.”

“Because everything is fine,” you replied, though the words felt hollow, less true with each passing day.

“You deserve more than ‘fine,’” Peter said quietly.

“Hey, are you two coming? I have a plan!” Your Peter’s voice called from below, interrupting the moment.

Peter 3 responded, “Yeah, we’re coming.”

He looked back at you with a curious expression. “How did you even get up here?”

You grinned. “The air?”

“The air?”

“Yeah, like this—” You floated him briefly before setting him back down gently.

Peter looked astonished. “Holy shit.”

You laughed, feeling a lightness you hadn’t in a long time. “You’ll have to see more sometime.”

Peter extended his pinky, a playful glint in his eyes. “Promise?”

“I promise,” you said, linking your pinky with his.

As you both stood up and prepared to join the others, a small spark of hope flickered in your chest. Maybe, just maybe, things could turn around after all.