#peter is just a sweetheart in this btw

[eyeless-jeff666]

Sketch for the role swap AU Im writing! Well its just gonna be a oneshot but atill I liked the idea.

[his-lost-one]

one thing that is way too common in ouat pan x y/n fics (in my opinion!! if you like that trope ofc i’m not judging!!) is wendy as like a spiteful love rival for y/n- bc i honestly just don’t get where that comes from- like wendy didn’t show any feelings for pan in the show?? (other than fear i guess lol) and she also never really did anything to hurt anyone (the thing i can think of is that she lied twice to benefit pan but lets be real at least the first one was definitely out of intimidation tbh and the second one i’m not fully sure but i doubt it was out of actual loyalty or anything like that).

and then again it does make sense bc if you need to fill that role in your story, then wendy is a logical character to choose to project that onto- since she *is* the only other girl on neverland (i’m not counting tink bc she basically almost never shows up in fics). what i think would be interesting tho would be a fic where felix got that role- where y/n has to be jealous of felix while being friends with wendy instead of the other way around

i’m too lazy to write that atm but maybe eventually lol

[moonstruckme]

spencer reid holding hands 4 the first time : ( 've been rewatching cm and i miss my boy sm : (( you're most recent peter fic is so sweet btw im absolutely obssessed!!!!! love you bunches

Thank you sweetheart <3

Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 665 words

You and Spencer have had a very…tentative beginning to your relationship. Normally, when you think of a first date, you’re worried about how much the other person expects. (Will they want to kiss you? Will they want more? What if you don’t want to? How do you say no without making it awkward?) With Spencer, there’s been none of that. You’re on date three, and he’s kept completely to himself the entire time. When you met up earlier in the week he’d let a hand hover near your elbow when you nearly tripped over a curb, but you’d barely felt the whisper of his skin against yours before he was putting it back in his pocket, the danger having passed. 

You’ve always thought that you’d prefer to take things slow, and Spencer seems that way too, but now you’re itching for something more. Just something tangible to show that you like him, that he likes you too, that you’re not just going on these dates for no reason at all. 

So, bold thing that you are, you let your hand hang in the empty space between you as you walk. An offering. 

The first time Spencer’s knuckles brush across yours, knobby and skimming, he almost stops talking. He’s been saying something about Alexander Pope and Eliza Haywood (and you’re doing your best to follow along, honest), but he falters mid-sentence, his hand stuttering in its movement. 

“And, uh, actually,” Spencer goes on, getting his verbal feet back under him, “it was only in the late twentieth century that her works started surfacing in academia…” 

You nod along but don’t move your hand, letting Spencer’s graze past it again. This time, you lean into the touch, pushing your knuckles into his almost imperceptibly. And this time, Spencer’s hand doesn’t continue along its trajectory. He lets it rest alongside yours, your skin brushing up against each other’s with the movement of your walking. After a few seconds, his pinkie teases yours. 

You bite back a smile, crooking your pinkie so it hooks around his. Spencer moves his hand, and for a second your heart drops, but he’s only bringing it to the inside of yours, interlacing your fingers loosely. 

“Is this okay with you?” he asks, careful and to-the-point. 

“Yeah.” You look up at him sheepishly, wriggling your fingers in his to get them closer. “I’ve been wanting to do this.” 

“Me too,” Spencer says quietly. Your heart balloons until you’re sure it’s about to float off and take you with it. 

His palm is rougher than you’d expected. Spencer comes off as such an academic, sometimes you can forget that he’s in the literal FBI. He handles guns and had to go through training, and you can feel it in the light scratch of his calluses against your palm. Slender fingers stretch over your knuckles, deft and capable. His touch sends a pleasant tingling all the way up from your hand into your buzzing brain. 

“Sorry,” you say softly. 

Spencer looks confused. His thumb runs the length of yours, a thoughtless movement or a soothing touch, it doesn’t matter. If he does it again, you’ll puddle down onto the pavement for sure. 

“What are you sorry for?” he asks. 

“I sort of interrupted you.” 

A little smile teases the dimple in his cheek. “I don’t mind.” 

You give his hand a gentle tug, feeling brazen. It cracks something open in him, and his smile comes out for real, the familiarity between you suddenly so natural. 

“Tell me about Eliza Haywood,” you urge. “Did Pope just hate her because she was a woman?” 

“That was definitely a big part of it,” Spencer allows, and his voice seems to go back into the conversation while his face stays somewhere else. He’s still wearing that smile, eyes squinted just slightly like he’s having some trouble figuring you out and it might be his new favorite game. “But also it had a lot to do with the perception of novels…”

[slytherheign]

A WALK TO REMEMBER | tasm!peter parker

PAIRING: tasm!peter parker x reader

WORD COUNT: 3.4k

SUMMARY: you take one last walk with the love of your life.

WARNINGS: illness (unspecified), HEAVY angst, insecurities, death. let me know if i missed any warnings. [⚠︎︎RATING: G]

AUTHOR’S NOTE: inspired by the movie/novel with the same title, but only slightly. THIS IS A GENDER NEUTRAL FIC BTW, but if you see something that pertains to specific gender then pls reach out so i can change it. also, i’ve planned another part for this focusing on their first walk but it’s still not finished. though when that part comes out, you can either read it as a one-shot or a prequel for this. EDIT: the prequel is out! READ HERE. again, i apologize for the lack of uploads, i just got busy with university and life in general. thank you for understanding and enjoy reading! you might want to get tissues before you proceed.

DESTINATION: Angst Avenue | GO BACK TO THE STATION. CLICK HERE FOR ALL THINGS AWTR (reviews, commentary, etc. about this fic).

The scent of the hospital permeated the room, mingling with the soft whirring of medical pieces of equipment. You were lying on your hospital bed, your frail form engulfed by the sterile white sheets. Your family surrounded you, their faces etched with worry and exhaustion.

The doctor entered the room, his expression grave. You watched him closely, a flicker of hope dancing within your eyes. Perhaps there was still a chance, a new treatment or some kind of breakthrough medication.

But as the doctor spoke, his words fell like heavy stones, shattering your fragile heart and optimism. "I'm sorry," he began, his voice laced with regret. "But it seems the treatments have stopped working."

Your heart sank like an anchor in your chest. You felt as if the air had been sucked out of the room, leaving you gasping for breath. Your family's hushed whispers filled the silence, their words a blur as tears clouded your vision. "I-I don't understand," you murmured, your voice barely a whisper. "What does that mean?"

Your mother's trembling hand reached out to grasp yours, her eyes brimming with tears. "It means we have to consider other options, sweetheart," she said, her voice breaking with emotion.

But you knew what those "other options" meant. It meant more pain, more uncertainty, and the terrifying prospect of saying goodbye. You turned away, burying your face in your pillow as a sob wracked your body.

The doctor spoke with your family and discussed the other options. You listened to his words, but they felt distant, as if they were coming from the end of a long tunnel. You knew what he was saying, and you could grasp the gravity of his words, but you couldn't bring yourself to fully process them.

“What do we think?” he asked, looking at your faces for an answer. 

If you were being honest, a part of you didn’t want to try anymore. You didn’t want any more pain. You were already tired—exhausted, even.

But then you remembered him.

You remembered Peter.

And you remembered how you promised him that you would do everything to survive. You promised that you would keep trying until all was well. 

After a moment of unnerving silence, you spoke. “I think we should do it,” you breathed out, looking up at your parents and your doctor. “The other options… let’s do it,” you smiled weakly.

So, that was what you did. You kept trying.

Peter lightly traced the lines on your hand as you waited for your order. Every now and then, he would look up and gaze at you lovingly. You couldn’t help but chuckle. “What are you doing?” you said, smiling.

“Admiring you,” he smiled, intertwining his hand with yours atop the table.

The smile left your face almost instantly. “Even when there’s nothing left to admire?” you stated sadly.

He immediately frowned at that. “What are you saying?”

“You know what I’m saying…”

“Y/N…”

“Peter, I’m not the same as I was. I don’t look like what I used to when you fell in love with me.”

“Stop.”

“No, Peter. I’m pale as snow. I look so sick, I’ve lost my hair. This—” you pointed at your head. “This is just a wig. My real hair is gone—the hair that I know you loved playing with and twirling the ends with your finger. I’ve lost a lot of weight—I don’t have the chubby cheeks you loved to pinch anymore. I-I’m so w-weak,” you sniffed. “Look at me, Pete—I can’t even stand on my own feet anymore. I have to be in a wheelchair.”

A tear fell on Peter’s cheek but he quickly wiped it when he noticed the waiter approaching. You immediately turned your face at the window, pretending to look at the parking lot on the other side so the poor waiter wouldn’t notice the emotional distress you were in.

Peter smiled at the waiter. “On second thought, can we take these out?” he gestured to the food. The waiter smiled in return before picking up your table number and taking the food back to pack it up for the two of you. Peter sadly looked at you as you continued to stare at the window. He heard you sniffing and he cursed himself for not knowing the right words to say at the moment. God, if he only knew how to take this pain away from you, he would do it right this instant.

He thanked the waiter, grabbing the paper bag with one hand and placing his other on your cheek to turn your face to him. He wiped the tears with his thumb before moving his hand to clasp yours. “Let’s go.”

“Where are we going?” you asked.

“To your favorite place.”  

He sat on the bench beside your wheelchair before opening the takeout bag and handing your food to you. The two of you ate in peace while admiring the sight of the beach in front of you, the cool breeze that swept off the ocean instantly finding its way to your bodies.

You remembered this beach. It was where Peter asked you to be his, and it was where you answered him “yes”. You remembered how it was snowing then, and how both of you thought it was weird, but beautiful nonetheless.

Moments after you finished eating and Peter threw the trash in a garbage can that was nearby, he cleaned his hands with an alcohol spray. He then went back to you, knelt down, and held your hand with both of his. “I have an idea.”

“A good one or a bad one?”

“A good one. A very good one.”

There was a glint of excitement in his eyes and you couldn’t help but laugh lightly at him.

“Well then, count me in,” you smiled.

He smirked before standing up and starting to carry you bridal style. 

“Peter—Pete! What are you doing?!”

“Just trust me, okay?”

You looked at him, searching his eye for some kind of clue to what he was planning on doing. Unfortunately, you couldn’t find a clue or anything. “Okay,” you forfeited.

He noticed the slight pout you made and he rolled his eyes jokingly. “You really know how to get me, huh?” he chuckled. “Fine, I’ll tell you what we’re doing,” he said, starting to move his feet towards the beach. “You and I, my love, are going for a walk.”

Peter carried you as he gently walked along the sandy shore, his footsteps leaving imprints that would soon be washed away by the tide. You stared up at him, memorizing his features just like you did every time you would look at him. His hair moved smoothly with the flow of the breeze, his mouth looking perfect as he talked about something you weren’t really paying attention to because you were busy paying attention to his face. And then you wondered how a man as beautiful as him loved you. You smiled, thinking you must’ve done something really good in your life for you to have him.

Seagulls soared overhead, their cries blending with the gentle rustle of the palm trees lining the beach. The rhythmic sound of waves crashing against the shore filled the air, a poignant backdrop to the bittersweet moment you were having.

Right. This was a bittersweet moment. There was something you haven’t told him yet.

“Pete, can we sit for a moment?” he frowned but did what you asked for nonetheless. He set you down gently on the sand, sitting beside you right after. 

You sat in companionable silence, the only sounds you were focusing on now were the sounds of Peter’s breathing and your heart’s beating. With each beat, you drew closer to the inevitable. You needed to tell him what he deserved to know.

“Pete—”

“Y/N—”

You laughed. “Okay, you go first,” you told him.

He smiled. “You were wrong,” he stated after a moment. 

“I’m confused.”

“You were wrong,” he said again. “You were wrong when you said that there is nothing left to admire about you. You were wrong because there is always something to admire about you. When I look at you, I question myself if you’re even real, because surely a person as perfect as you could not exist. The way you smile at the smallest compliments, the way you tilt your head back when you laugh at something, the way your brows knit together when you’re confused, the way your tongue sticks out sometimes when you’re concentrating—everything about you, big and small, I admire them. And I love them.”

“Surely, there are some imperfections in me,” you said.

“Yes, of course, we all have them. But those imperfections are what makes you perfect.”

“But I don’t look the same as I was before—”

“And I don’t care. Y/N, you are perfect in my eyes. Listen to me, I love you. I don’t care if you lost all your hair, or if you lose your teeth, or if you lose everything you have—I don’t care what else you lose as long as I don’t lose you.”

Oh.

As long as he didn’t lose me.

Your heart should’ve leaped with joy when you heard those words. But instead, it shattered like a plate of glass getting thrown into a wall. You hated this feeling. And you hated the feeling you would soon make Peter feel.

“Peter…” you called his name. “Pete—I love you,” you sniffed. “I love you,” you repeated. “You know that, right?”

“Of course,” he nodded, a tear escaping his eyes.

“And because I love you so much… I have to tell you something.”

“What is it?”

“They didn’t work,” you cried.

“What didn’t work? I don’t understand.”

“When my treatments stopped working, my family and I decided to try the other options. Those other options,” your voice broke. “Those options didn’t work either, Peter…”

“W-What does that mean?”

“That means that I’m dying, Peter. And there’s nothing left to stop it.”

“No.”

You held both of his hands when you noticed them shaking.

“It’s inevitable,” you explained, looking at his hands instead of focusing on his face. You couldn’t look at him while he was crying. You couldn't do it. Your heart wouldn’t be able to bear it.

“No no no no no.”

“I love you, Peter.” 

“Y-you can’t—no. Maybe there’s still a chanc—”

You shook your head, lips trembling as you kissed his hands. “I love you.”

“What about our dreams, the future we would have? The family we would make? Y/N…”

“Peter, it’s getting cold,” you whispered. “We should go back.”

“But—please, Y/N. Y-You just can’t…”

“Peter, it’s getting really cold…”

“You can’t just leave me, I don’t think I can live without you. I already lost a lot of people—”

“I love you, Peter,” you repeated.

“I–I can’t lose you too…”

And in one frail movement, everything turned black.

As soon as you opened your eyes, the darkness from your eyelids was changed into the blinding white of the hospital room. To your left were machines that connected to your body, the only reason why you were still breathing. To your right was Peter, sound asleep on his chair while he held your hand in his.

If you were back in here, then that would mean one thing… you didn’t have much time left.

Your face was pale and the once vibrant eyes you had were now dimmed by the weight of your illness. Despite the pain that was evident in your features, there was a peacefulness in your expression. You had come to terms with your fate. 

You could feel it. Death. It wasn’t just at your doorstep, it was already beside you, just waiting for the right moment to touch you and consume you. You supposed you should be thankful, for the heavens did not take you yet.

If it would take you within this week, then so be it. But you hoped it would at least be merciful.

If it would take you today, then so be it. But you hoped it would spare you a chance for one more wish. 

One last wish.

To give you time. 

Not more time to live, but just enough.

Just enough time to say goodbye.

“Peter?” you said, squeezing his hand with all the strength you had left.

He woke up, eyes widening when he realized you were awake.

“You’re awake,” he smiled, you swore you saw his eyes tearing up at the sight of you.

Your features were drawn with pain and fatigue and your body was weakened by the relentless progression of your illness. But despite your frailty, there was a quiet strength in your eyes, a determination to make the most of the time you had left.

“I don’t think I have much time left,” you admitted.

Tears welled up in Peter's eyes as he stood up to lean in and kiss your forehead, his heart breaking at the thought of losing you. He sat back down again, his gaze fixed on you with a mixture of love and sorrow. He longed to take away your pain, to make you whole again, but he knew that was beyond his power.

"I'm sorry, Peter," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I wish things could have been different."

He squeezed your hand gently, his heart breaking at the sadness in your voice. "Don't apologize" he replied, his voice filled with tenderness. "You have nothing to be sorry for. We've shared so much love and memories together. Your time may be shorter than what we’ve hoped for, but I’m very lucky and glad that you decided to spend most of it with me."

A small smile played at the corners of your lips and you moved your hand to caress his cheek. "I love you, Peter," you whispered, voice trembling with emotion.

"I love you too, Y/N," Peter replied, his voice thick with tears. "More than anything in this world."

“My parents?” you asked.

“They’re outside.”

“Can you please call them for me?”

“Of course,” he said, standing up to fetch your parents. He stayed outside the room to give you and your family some privacy.

“Oh, sweetheart,” your mother immediately ran up to you, stroking both of your cheeks gently with her hands. Your father stood behind her, you could tell by their faces that they’d been crying.

God, you hated seeing them like this.

“Mom, Dad,” you whispered.

“We’re here,” your mother responded, wiping your tears with her thumbs. “We’re right here.”

Your father reached out to hold your hand. “We’re always here.”

“I don’t know w-what to say… I can’t think of words that are nearly enough to express how grateful I am to each of you,” you stated. “Thank you for everything you have done and given me since I was a child. Thank you for reading me bedtime stories when I was little, for bringing me to school and then picking me up when it was done, for cooking my favorite meals, for hugging me when I was sad, for cleaning up my wounds whenever I injured myself while playing, for being there for me through my first period, first heartbreak—I am who I am because of you.”

You glanced at your dad only to see him crying, his grip on your hand getting tighter as if trying to see if the tighter he held you the longer you would stay with them. You never saw him cry like this before.

“We love you so much,” he whispered.

“We’re so proud of you,” your mother added.

Your father agreed, nodding. “You’re the strongest person I know. You’re even stronger than me,” he chuckled sadly.

“I love you both so much,” you cried. “I don’t want to leave, but the world has other plans for me… thank you for being the best parents I could ever ask for.”

And there it was.

You could feel death’s hand slowly reach for you. You closed your eyes, it was getting hard to breathe. 

“C-Can you please call Peter?” you breathed out.

With all your might, you opened your eyes again. Peter was now beside you, holding your right hand while both your parents held your left. You stayed like that for a moment, clinging to each other as if you could defy fate itself. But you all knew that you couldn’t.

Your breaths came shallow and labored, each one a struggle against the weight of your failing body. You closed your eyes, trying to block out the pain that pulsed through you with every heartbeat. But despite your efforts, you couldn't escape the truth that loomed over you like a dark cloud.

You could see and hear them crying, the grips they had on your hands getting tighter and tighter and tighter… afraid that if they held you loosely then you would slip away sooner.

But that wasn’t how it worked. A tight grip would not save you. There was nothing they could do to change the inevitable.

As the seconds stretched into minutes, your thoughts began to wander, drifting through memories of happier times. You thought of your childhood, filled with laughter and innocence, and of the love you had shared with your family, with your friends, and with Peter.

The memories faded as soon as they came. And then you felt death’s touch linger on your skin, its distance becoming closer to you than you could ever imagine. Like a distant echo growing louder with each passing moment, the realization dawned on you that your time was running out. You tearfully looked around the room, taking in the faces of your loved ones, each one bearing pain and sorrow.

Your strength continued to wane, your body growing weaker with each second. And as you lay there, surrounded by the ones you loved, you found a sense of peace in knowing that you weren't alone.

With a final breath, you closed your eyes. You welcomed death’s touch with a smile, surrendering to the darkness that beckoned you. And as your family and Peter wept beside you, you drifted away, hoping to have left behind a legacy of love and memories that would live on long after you were gone.

7 MONTHS LATER.

Taking a walk along the beach never felt the same anymore. 

Peter concluded that without you beside him, it wasn’t as fun as it used to be. The only fun thing for him, he guessed, was the fact that with each step he walked along the sandy shore, the memories with you played in his head and he would smile as he recounted them. Sometimes, he could even feel your presence somehow.

He ditched his shoes and played with the sand with his feet. It only took him a few minutes before he decided to wear his shoes again and leave the beach.

The next place he decided to visit was the cemetery. He stood across your grave, still not believing that 7 months had passed since you took your final breath. There was not a day that passed when he didn’t miss your presence or longed for your touch. He sat on the grass in front of your tombstone.

“You know…” he started speaking. “Walking along the beach used to be my favorite. After you died and I started doing it again, I wondered why I didn’t like doing it as much as I did before. But now I know why… I realized that it only became my favorite because I was doing it with you.”

He played with the grass with his hands, picking some of them as he tried to hold back his tears. “God, Y/N,  it’s been 7 months and it still hurts the same… I miss you so so much. I miss our walks, our dates—I miss everything about you,” he cried.

“I want to love walking along the beach again, but I know I only loved it in the first place because I was with you,” he continued. “To be honest, I don’t think I’ll do those walks again, at least not now… I don’t know… it’s just, without you, I can’t—”

Something just crawled and bit his hand. “Shit,” he swatted the spider, before facing your grave again.

“Anyway, I just want you to know that I will forever treasure those walks that I did with you,” he smiled weakly but genuinely, wiping his tears. “I will never forget them.” 

Especially that last one.

That last walk.

That was a walk to remember.

SLYTHERHEIGN TAGLIST: @writingstoraes @joshiiieeenesx @checo2011

TASM!PETER PARKER TAGLIST: @mymilkducts @i-am-woman-strong @lauraneedstochill @jeanettexkillian @ms-mandalore @enaraism @alessandralol @sad-darksoul @sincericida @mentallystablepotato @mich0731 @logolepsic-insomniac @k0miiki @dreamsarecloserwithyou @jumilzzz @primroseparker @preciousbabypeter @myheartonthemove @rebecca-johnson-28 @silkholland @ellievickstar @okkulta @geekygamerchick @starqwerty20 @the-quiet-observer @softiepeterpan @willowhaired @sflame15-blog @pompeygirl89 @remuslupinsdocs

[thollandneedy]

hiii can you make something inspired by the video of tom protecting zendaya from the paparazzi

Worthy- Peter Parker

A/n: Peter being protective, ugh (give it to meeeeee). Btw, thank you for the request babe 🥰

Warnings: Mentions of death, swearing, mentions of vomit, anxiety attack symptoms and aggressive approach

Don’t forget to share, like, comment and leave your ideas here

Bellah’s Masterlist 🪻

It was no surprise to anyone that Peter Parker was dating Tony Stark's daughter, but it was the first time they had appeared publicly at an event together. After some catastrophes caused by the Avengers after their last mission in Berlin, in order to redeem the act of motivating violence towards young people, Stark decided to hold an event to fund social support groups.

Y/n was used to having the eyes of the media, mainly because of her beauty, but Peter hated the media. As well as distorting many of Spider-Man's actions, calling him irresponsible and selfish, there would always be people who would point out the slightest of his mistakes in order to get 'likes'. The girl, on the other hand, had several controversies involving her name, but she never let that get to her. Her father had taught her to always ignore people who spoke badly and pointed out mistakes, because if they were strong enough, they would talk in person rather than hide behind a screen in a dark room with a deplorable life.

“Aren't you nervous?” Peter asks, finishing lacing up his black shoes.

“No. I just didn't want anyone coming up to me asking me about my sexuality again because I said in an interview that I'd kiss Madison Beer.” Y/n says, looking at herself in the mirror as she finishes fixing the pair of earrings on her ear.

“What if they ask me something? What do I say?” The brunette gets up from the cream recliner at the end of the king-size bed in his girlfriend's room, heading towards her.

“Just be yourself, love.” The girl turns to her boyfriend, who places his warm hands on her waist, pulling her close in one smooth movement. The girl opens an affectionate smile, allowing her pink lips to meet Peter's. “And don't get involved in any controversy. It's not enough that people suspect you of being Spider-Man. My father will kill you if anything happens, especially during the party.”

“You look beautiful, you know that?” The older man commented, looking at the girl from head to toe with a sideways smile. The dress was tailored, with long sleeves that were almost transparent and her body shaped by the wine velvet until it dragged on the floor with a small neckline, but one that emphasized her breasts.

“I know it.” Y/n laughs, making Peter roll his eyes and walk away.

Two knocks on the white door are heard, drawing the attention of the young couple who head towards where the sound was coming from, then open the door. The image of Pepper in a black dress comes into view, apparently impatient with how long they were taking in the room. The blonde put both hands on her waist, saying:

“Really? 10 minutes to put on an earring and get your bag, Y/n?”

“We're ready.” Peter defends. “Come on, sweetheart.” The dark-haired man in the black suit and gray tie holds out his hand to the younger woman.

“But my bag.” Y/n turns her body to the side, looking out of the corner of her eye for her bag, which had mysteriously disappeared.

“This one?” Peter holds out his other hand with the handle of the white bag positioned on the tip of his index finger, drawing a surprised smile from the girl.

“Come on, you two.” Pepper warns, stepping into the middle of the couple and closing the door behind them.

(…)

“How many minutes until we arrive?” Y/n asks the driver, at the same time as his eyes are focused on his cell phone camera so that his gloss doesn't get smudged in the photos that will be taken later.

“Less than 5” he replies, looking at her through the rearview mirror.

“Do you want me to go out holding your hand or do we go out one at a time?” The brunette asks, swinging his legs as a way of relieving the anxiety trapped in his chest.

“Relax, Pete. Let me go out alone first. I know some of my followers will want to take pictures with me since I told them I'd be at the event.” Y/n says, closing the transparent gloss and putting it in her handbag. “I don't want the same thing to happen that happened in January.”

“You turned down photos because you had a viral infection and put your organs out in the back of the car in that KFC bowl” Peter reminds her, placing one of his free hands on the girl's back.

“And they still called me an unsympathetic diva,” Y/n mentions, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes to catalyze the feeling of discontent after remembering the hate the media threw at her.

“We're here, Miss Stark,” the driver warns, opening the automatic door and showing the group of fans and paparazzi who were waiting for the couple at the entrance to the event.

Peter got out of the vehicle, being called by several people and blinded by the flashes of the paparazzi who insisted on putting their cameras in his face. The men with their caps back and big cameras asked

“Are you really Spider-Man?”

“Does Stark approve of your relationship even though you're poor?”

“Is it true that Stark Enterprises is related to the death of your parents?”

Peter clenches his jaw, takes a deep breath to himself, and walks past the men with his face closed as he hears these questions. Y/n, on the other hand, got out of the car with a smile on her face like a princess. The girl put her hair back and got out of the car without the protection of the security guards who were at the door of the event. The group of followers who were waiting at the railing to take a picture with the youngest girl held out their cell phones so that she could take a picture with them. Y/n waved to the fans who were a little further back, allowing them to be noticed too. The girl took the cell phones, snapped the photos and thanked them with a smile, and this was the key to the paparazzi taking advantage of the situation to punch her with questions and photos that were too close.

“Are you dating Peter Parker out of pity?” One of the men asks.

“I'm not,” she replies, as she takes pictures with the people clinging to the low railing.

Peter stands in the doorway, watching from afar how his girlfriend will react. Thanks to his powers, he could hear Y/n's heart and sense when she was threatening to have an anxiety attack. Her mouth might lie with a smile, but her eyes would never lie about her being. The brunette turned on his heel as soon as he heard the first question, turning back the way he had come.

“Do you regret realizing that what happened in Berlin wasn't deliberate? The damage was done by your father's group. People died.” Another says.

The group of photographers was getting too close.

“I have no regrets. That's why my father is promoting the event. To help those who are hurt.” She replies, finishing taking the last photo.

As soon as she lowers her head so that she can go to meet Peter, she is cornered. Several white lights take over her vision, and she finds herself dazed by so much movement. Her frightened eyes searched for Peter, but she couldn't find him. Everything around her was getting too hot from the sweaty bodies that were increasingly trying to get in touch with the girl in the red dress.

“Your father killed innocent people.”

“We already knew she'd be just like her selfish father. She's just a good girl in disguise.”

“Did you cheat on your boyfriend with actor Drew Starkey at your best friend's party in Los Angeles last month?”

“She looks like she'd do that.”

Peter stepped into the middle of the paparazzi, pushing them hard with the sides of his body, throwing his cameras to the ground every time he saw one of them being placed in his girlfriend's face. The older man seemed to have fire in his eyes, even capable of burning someone with his fury. The girl's heart was racing, and then a strong hand found her, pulling her close and taking away the whirlwind of questions and comments spewed at her. Her chest was heaving, feeling her lungs regain air, and pressing her hands against her chest. Peter hugged her close, running his hands down her back and directing her towards the door of the event decorated with gold, white and red balloons

“She always does that. Leaves when she can't answer something we ask. Classic spoiled bitch.” One of the men picks up his camera from the floor, wiping the lens on his gray blouse.

At one moment, Y/n was standing next to Peter, and the other she was being abandoned again at the door of the large party building. With strong, hurried steps, Peter spins his body around to throw a powerful punch at the man who made the comment, causing him to fall against the other gossip channels who were on duty at the scene to capture any slip-ups. The photographer grumbled, putting his hand to his lip and realizing that blood was coming out. With a startled look on his face, he glares at the brunette

“Call my girlfriend a bitch one more time, and I'll make you swallow your fucking tongue.” He says through his teeth, stepping out of the crowd again and into the building with hurried steps.

Y/n had her hands over her mouth, stunned by what Peter had just done. Her heels tapped against the lobby floor as her boyfriend patted her shoulder, trying to comfort her from what she had just been through. Parker was followed by two security guards, who, only after seeing the situation, decided to protect Y/n.

“You irresponsible bastards. Stark will find out about this.” Peter says loudly to the two men in black, who were now following them to the elevator.

“My father!” Y/n says in astonishment. “Peter, my father's going to find out about the punch you threw at the guy outside! Fuck, we're fucked. He's going to kill you. Shit.”

“Don't worry, darling. Anything to protect you is worthy.” The brunette pressed the elevator's ‘up’ button, hugging his girlfriend tighter against his chest.

[rosamariaa]

I've been thinking a lot about a remus/sirius Ministry of Magic office AU..

Often I see ppl talking about what would Sirius work with if there wasn't a war going on and he could just live his life in peace and one of my favorite headcanons is that he would be an 'Unspeakable'. Those are the ppl that work in the department of mysteries, that by itself is one of coolest things in the wizarding world, according to me. The department of mysteries is responsible for confidential studies of death, love, time etc (A lot of crazy things that honestly no one should have to mess with but obvs they do anyways...) It's high-level security place, no one besides the researchers are allowed in those chambers. No one even knows who are those researchers and what they do, actually.

Buut, its sirius we are talking about and the guy is a genius but also can be pretty reckless and, in this specific scenario, I think he would be a borderline "crazy scientist" so. He fucks up down the line. I don't know what he does, exactly, but it's something that put his and others researchers' lives at risk. Bc of that, he is sent to work in a waaay more mundane department: Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. It's a cool department!! Remember that first poa scene where harry turns aunt marge into a balloon etc? well those are the guys who they call to fix that. They even have a Obliviators division, responsible for changing Muggles' memory in case they are exposed to accidental magic. Those guys are full of themselves and annoying as hell, btw.

and I see Sirius being sent there, after The Accident. It's cool in theory, but most of the time it's puuuure paperwork and it bores sirius to no end.

well, guess who works there as well. Our guy, Remus j. lupin.

Remus isn't one to do field work so he mostly works in the Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee division (god I love those long ass names). Basically he comes up with stuff to excuse magic happening in the muggle world etc. like when peter killed a bunch of muggles and the muggle paper said it was a "big gas explosion". Pure paperwork. Boring as hell.

Anyway, Sirius turns up there out of nowhere and he is the office sweetheart. It fucking boggles remus mind, like. Sirius always goes to the office parties and seems to be friends with everyone but no one knows anything about this guy. He just gets there, a almost 30 yo with a bunch of obscure work experience and no one knows what he did before that, who his family is, where he is from and how the hell does he knows the stuff that he knows.

Sirius is great at field work, he mostly works directly in the Obliviators division and remus is really great with the paperwork stuff sooo they get paired up a lot. At first, they are a bit annoyed by each other (my fav wolfstar flavor). It's funny because they actually agree with almost everything but they just approach things veeery differently and so they are bickering all the damn time. And Sirius is a Certified Little Shit™ and is constantly doing things that drives remus a bit crazy. Once they had a case of a water fountain exploding bc two wizards were fighting in a public park and instead of obliviating the muggles into believing it was only a piping problem or whatever, he went out of his way to turn it into a sort of elaborate flash mob that went viral on tiktok. Remus spent the night awake documenting everything. He wanted to strangle sirius that day.

between late nights working and lots of crazy field work (thanks to sirius) those two end up getting closer and closer. Remus still thinks Sirius is a bit insane, but now in a I-want-you-to-fuck-me-into-this-desk type way. Sirius, on the other hand, doesn't let go of his previous research. I think that back then he would, specifically, study and experiment a lot with Love, in special familial love (yep.) The thing about those confidential dept. of mysteries' experiments is that they can be pretty... unethical. And that's the break point of their story: Remus finding out about Sirius research and finally wondering at what lengths did sirius went to understand something as complicated as Love and what the fuck he did to get banished from the department back then, and worse: if he ever used remus in those experiments. and even more worse: The fact that remus doesn't stop loving him even if he did.

A last fun fact is that they, at one point, would have an inside joke about that "MIB: man in black" movie, they watched it together one late night and sirius kept referencing it when he went to obliviate muggles and remus thought it was the funniest silliest thing ever

[crimsonbubble]

cw. nsfw, afab!reader, slight brat!reader, soft dom and brat tamer!peter, fingering, overstimulation, oral, praise, creampie, cum play, it's sickening how in love with him I am *not proofread, just pure brainrot

[special tag for @smmy-winchster <33] btw this is the idea I got at 2am 🤧

MINORS DNI!!

peter could handle you mouthing off, throwing him snarky remarks, and giving him the cold shoulder.

but over the course of two days, you’ve barely talked to anyone but when you did it always came out a lot meaner than it needed to be. you rarely left your lab, only for food and handing in reports, but even then you cooped yourself away from others for hours.

peter was just on his way to you before he bumped into you coming out of your lab. “there you are, sweetheart. I’ve been looking all over for ya.” you quickly brushed him off while letting out a huff, attempting to push past him. "not now, peter." you mumbled.

peter caught your arm and pulled you back to stand in front of him. he kept a firm grip on your arms, his eyes narrowing slightly as he traces your features with his eyes. "is everything alright? you haven't been acting like yourself lately." you bite your cheek, swallowing a lump in your throat.

you've been so harsh on him and the other spiders. your voice wavered and shook as you tried to speak, tears collecting in your eyes rather quickly. "nothing has been going right." peter's eyes softened immediately before they widened as you burrowed yourself into him.

you're hurting, so peter has to distract you somehow. he wants and needs to take the pain away, and he knows just the way to do it. with swift hands placed under your thighs, he lifts you as he walks into your lab. he locks the door behind him as he sets you atop your desk.

you're still clinging to him, your tears soaking into his robe. peter's quick to remove it and drape it over your slumped figure. he ushers your arms through the sleeves and tugs the fabric up around your neck.

"it'll happen sometimes, cupcake, but it's nothing to beat yourself up over. we all have our bad days and sometimes the best thing to do is power through it knowing that it does get better." peter wiped the tears from your face, peppering kisses along your jaw.

peter plucked a tissue from your tissue box, holding it up against your nose. you took the tissue from him and cleared your nose. you tossed it into the garbage can, wiping around your eyes of the excess wetness from your tears. you peered up at him with puffy eyes and a gentle smile.

"there she is, there's my pretty girl." peter smooshed a wet kiss against your cheek, smiling against your skin. you laugh with him, looping your arms around his neck. he finally lands a kiss on your lips, leaving you hazy and warm. you're quick to pull him back down for another kiss, letting his presence consume you.

you missed him; missed how he loved you, how he touched you. you needed him more than ever. the soft kisses slowly turned rougher and more passionate, more breathtaking. peter lays a hand over your hip and the other against your lower back to pull you into him.

"I've got ya. I'm right here." his hand made quick work of your jeans button and zipper. though he didn't bother with pulling them down just yet, opting to delve his hand under your panties. he rubs his fingers through your folds, his lips kissing along your neck as he pushes his palm against your clit.

he slips his fingers into you as you gasp, your hips bucking up against his hand. "atta girl, just like that. relax for me." he pumped his fingers in and out at a harsh pace, his fingers curling against your sweet spot. peter quickly works an orgasm out of you, his pace quickening more as he pushes you to another blissful release.

"so proud of you, honey." you're thrashing against him, your thighs clenching around his hand. his thumb presses tight circles into your clit, and your body squirms and shakes as he wrings out another one. "god, you're so fucking good to me." peter removes his fingers from you, harshly ripping your pants and underwear down your legs.

he just mutters out a sorry as you hear threads popping. "one more for me, baby." you don't have time to dwell on him ripping your jeans, as peter sucks your clit into his mouth. you lean back onto your desk on one elbow, your other hand moving to tangle into peter's hair. you're torn between pulling him closer and pushing him away as the constant pleasure makes your body burn hotter.

peter pushes his tongue into your sopping cunt, his nose bumping into your clit. he moves his mouth to focus on your clit, sucking and swirling his tongue around it before slipping his fingers into you again. he immediately curls his fingers, pressing insistently against your sweet spot. he pulls his mouth off your clit, keeping a steady pace with his fingers as he helps you ride out another high.

"stay with me, honey." it's easy to slip his suit down, tugging your hips to the edge of the desk at the same time. peter nudges his cock between your folds, rocking his hips to bump your clit. he slides his hands under your thighs to hold your hips, keeping your wet cunt pressed into him.

"there ya go. take it all, nice and easy." peter's nails dug into your skin as he forced himself to not immediately start moving his hips. you push your hips down against his, the pleasure and lust clouding your vision. peter nearly curls in on himself as your pussy tightened and clenched around him.

his pace starts quick, his hips smacking into the backs of your thighs. peter can't help but focus on the noises your wet cunt makes as he pistons his hips. your thighs tremble as your core tightens again. "c'mon baby, one more." he slips a hand down to thumb at your clit, feeling it twitch under his touch.

as your pussy tightened and gushed around him, his pace falters. his eyes are nearly rolling back into his head as he comes. it's thick, warm, and leaks out of you as he pulls out. as you lay back on your desk, chest heaving with each intake of breath, peter trails his fingers over your shaking thighs.

seems as though he's not done just yet as his fingers push the leaking come back into you. "just relax for me, honey. I'll take real good care of you."

[mllersjoel]

could you write a matt murdock x reader one shot where the [reader] is spider-man’s cousin, is a doctor in hell’s kitchen and has a thing going on with daredevil.

Then one night after patrolling Spider-man brings DD to meet his cousin after the two get into a fight with baddie of the day but Spider-man doesn’t know that’s the two know each other and just starts going on and on bout how brilliant his cousin is to DD. After their meeting [Reader] wonders when they should tell the poor teen that they already know each other.

haven't you heard?

Pairing: Matt Murdock x nurse!gn!reader

Wordcount: 748

A/N: such a fun ask!! i love writing these guys :D writing comms are open btw :3

***

“Hey, sweetheart,” Matt says, voice barely above a whisper as he clambers through your window. Your head immediately shoots up from where it’s lying on the couch, an episode of an old sitcom playing forgotten on your TV.

“Matt, hey, are you okay?” You ask, rushing to him. You try to hold him at arm's length, to see his injuries, but instead he pulls you in. He hugs you close to him, cradling your head and holding you tight, breathing in your comfort. You instinctively put your arms around him, laughing lightly as he walks your bodies towards the couch. He uses his leg to make your knees buckle, and you let out a light ‘oof’ as he falls on top of you (gently, always gently).

“What’s up with you?” You laugh, scratching at his scalp at just the right way to make him melt into you. He pushes his mask off, settling into your arms, like an extremely touchy weighted blanket.

“Hard day. Tired,” he mumbles, pushing his face into your neck, his stubble tickling you. 

“Any injuries?” 

“Not that I know of.”

“Matthew.”

He sighs. “A small cut on my abdomen. That’s it.”

You run your hands down his sides, trying to feel for it, when he takes your hands in his and holds them to your chest. He lifts his head, giving you a soft kiss. “Five more minutes,” he whispers, “then you can patch me up.”

You never could say no to him. “Fine. Five more minutes.”

***

Matt’s ribs hurt. His hands hurt. He’s pretty sure even his teeth hurt. He heard Peter (Matt figured out his identity pretty quick, he doesn’t even try to mask his voice) get hit a lot harder than he did, but the kid won’t stop talking. It would be endearing, if he wasn’t annoyed.

“—and when you grabbed his arm? I mean, even I didn’t see that coming, and I can see!”

Matt hums, trying to find a way to leave and go to you. He’s pretty sure he has some bones that need to be set back into place, and sure, he could do it on his own, but he really wants you.

“Oh man, you’re looking rough,” Peter says, stopping mid-ramble to take a good look at him. 

“It’s okay, I know—”

“We should see my cousin!” Peter almost yells, enthusiastic. “They’re amazing. Did you know they’re a med student? Top of their class, about to start their residency. And when they help set my bones it doesn’t hurt as much. I swear, they have magic hands or something, everything heals faster when they help.”

Matt snorts. “I’m sure your healing ability also has something to do with it.”

He hears Peter shrug. “Sure, but they also make me hot cocoa if I’m really injured, which has to help in some capacity, right?”

Matt sighs, scrubbing a hand over his jaw. Should he just run? Just make a break for it? No, he shouldn’t. Peter might follow him and find you. He wants to have something just for him. So, with a weary smile, he turns his head in Peter’s general direction. “Where’s your cousin located?”

Peter excitedly leads him in a seemingly random direction, and Matt blames his injuries on why it took him so long to realise they were going to your building. What are the chances that Peter’s cousin and his doctor live in the same place?

Then Peter swings to your window.

Wait.

Your window?

He throws it open, calling out your name. Matt scrambles in after him, and sure enough, you’re there.

“Matt?” He hears you say, confusion laced in your voice.

The tension bleeds out of his shoulders as he awkwardly gives a half-hearted wave. “Hi, sweetheart.”

“Wait, you two know each other?” Peter asks, head swiveling. “Also, sweetheart?”

You rush over to Matt, leading him to your kitchen island and lightly pushing him to indicate he should sit down. “Long story short, Petey, this is the guy I’m seeing,” you tell him sheepishly. Before you can run off to grab your first aid kit (which is really a mini pharmacy, at this point) Matt grabs your hand and gives you a light kiss.

“Ew, gross,” Peter says, almost absentmindedly, “why didn’t you tell me you were seeing the Daredevil.”

“You never asked,” you chuckle.

Peter sputters. “I didn’t know it was an option!”

As you leave for your kit, Matt smiles at Peter. “I agree, your cousin’s pretty great.”

[magicaloneandmystery]

random mob!TASM Peter headcanons I have

warning: none!

he does not hesitate to use a bit of his... influence in finding out your likes and dislikes before your first date. he planned it perfectly.

you always wondered how he got it so perfect, pulling out all the stops. well, now you know.

he even knew the right flowers to buy you, and every week since your first date you have received the same flowers. they have a permanent spot in your apartment, and he likes to smell them every time he comes over.

nobody would ever guess Spider-Man was, you know, also a mobster. except you, and the first time you present this theory he almost chokes on his drink.

"why do you think that, love?"

"ain't no way a regular dude is getting all that money to upgrade his suit to the best technology, it's so expensive, Peter!"

that was your third date

and you weren't wrong, either.

and his NICKNAMES

there are so many

his favourites include, but are not limited to: love, bug, sweetheart

but mostly love

it weakened your knees

on your fourth date, he forgets to change his shirt and there's a splatter of blood on his cuffs.

lest you get into a panic mode, he had to explain everything to you, and all you could think of was how your mom always said to ask for a man's job on the first date. you wondered what he would've replied had you asked him on the first date

you voice your concerns

"that's your first question after I just told you I had to beat up a guy to keep my workers in line?"

"curiosities," you shrugged

he tells you he would've told you he's a businessman

that checks with all the suits he wears - in which he looks delicious, btw - and how busy he is. that's what you thought he was until a few moments ago

I mean, it's not exactly wrong

so you ask him if he kills people, and a dark shade takes over his eyes

"not good ones," he had replied, voice an octave lower than usual, making a chill run down your spine

that date was, at your request, cancelled and the two of you instead went to his home so you could take care of Peter after he winced when you hugged him

there were so many bruises

and he got a good enough lecture about taking care of himself

and he was so sure he had already fallen in love when you were lecturing him about self defense

obsessed with mob peter might make more fics about it. comments and reblogs are much appreciated, thank you for reading!

[aew-regression-cove]

caregiver charles xavier headcannons

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･💭 regressor reader

He would use so many nicknames!!! (Things like Darling, Sweetheart, Angel, Little one)

Charles is good with routines, he's a professor so he's used to routines.

The two of you make set rules together for you when regressed. - it's on a piece of coloured card!!! 😌

Would make sure you are always safe!!!

He will always make sure you know it's okay to be vulnerable around him, he trusts you completely.

Would let you sit on his lap whilst he's in his wheelchair!!! 🫂

Hank is his go to babysitter (and Jean pre-dark phoenix). If Hank can't look after you he would trust Logan, Raven or Erik (depending on what terms he's on with him at the time 😶)

He's so prepared and ready for anything. Plasters? He has some. Ear defenders? He's got those too.

^ would carry a stim toy for you!!! <3

Playdates with Peter, Kurt and Jubilee!!!

He would get you this plush (I want this plush and ever since I've seen it I've thought about Charles idk why 🫶🏻)

He's really good at helping with big emotions!!!

Movie nights with the X-Men!!! So many cuddles!!!

Gives the best hugs!!!

Would teach you to play chess!!! → You and Charles team up to beat Erik!!!

He would wear jumpers that he knows you like the material of and is happy to give you them!!!

Keeps (and frames) any and all art work you give him!!!

Has a picture of you and him on his desk :3 (he also has group photos of the X-Men team btw <3)

If you slip during a class he makes sure to catch you up on whatever you've missed!!!

Has such a soothing voice and most definitely would read you books to help you sleep!!!

He isn't someone that just tells you no without a reason, he thinks it's important for you to understand why he's saying no to something!!!

Has a supply of crayons on his desk for you.

If you ever don't want to/can't communicate he has previously spoken to you about reading your mind so he can help in that situation.

Can help calm you with his mutation.

Forehead kisses >>>

Likes spoiling you!!!

ⓘ if you want to reblog, let me know and I'll decide to temporarily unlock the post or not <3

[misscongeniality18]

Hi! I'm the anon of "Still Falling For You" and I just want to say thank you. Yo do such an amazing job and I really loved the part 1..BTW I'm so glad that you liked the idea and can't wait for the next part!

It is my pleasure, dear anon! I didn't expect that I would love this idea so much, so I had to limit myself to making this a two-part fic.

Still Falling For You, Part Two - Peter Sutherland

Synopsis ! Peter meets another agent assigned to protect Rose, and to his surprise, it's his high school sweetheart--you. (Time skip to the fight on the beach.) Pairing ! Peter Sutherland x fem!reader Genres ! Friends-to-lovers, (sort of) enemies-to-lovers Warnings ! Angst, fluff, language, violence, innuendos, kissing, no use of y/n Disclaimers ! Everything I know about the FBI is from TV shows, so this might be an unintentional crossover with Criminal Minds? Idk, it just happened Word Count - 1857

" It took us a while Because we were young and unsure With love on the line What if we both would need more But all your flaws and scars are mine Still falling for you " - Still Falling For You, Ellie Goulding

Masterlist Request Guide Part One

The car ride to the hotel had created a frostiness between you and Peter. In fact, you weren’t sure how this ‘partnership’ would work with the amount of tension brought up. But once you’d gotten to the hotel, you both went into FBI autopilot when you saw that the Secret Service agents that were supposed to be in the lobby were gone.

Your introduction to Rose was brief, but once you’d managed to actually take a breather and talk to her, Peter’s suspicion turned out to be true. You and Rose became fast friends, and yes, the two of you would become huge pains in his ass, which would spark up heated arguments and playful banter between you and Peter.

But even through all of that friction you had fallen into the easy rhythm you’d once had with Peter years and years ago. The feelings you had thought you’d pushed deep within you had been stirred up like dust on a bookshelf, and the novel you’d picked up was one you were revisiting. Was it because it was familiar and comfortable, or because it was one that you’d never gotten over and still continued to love? Or maybe, just maybe, that story wasn’t finished yet.

Perhaps it was all of the above.

Peter had changed over the years, not just physically but mentally. He was no longer the goofy boy gazing at you with puppy dog-heart eyes. He had grown up and was a full-blown golden retriever, protective and loyal to a fault. You knew his past with his father, and you’d also heard about the accusations against him for the metro bombing one year ago. You didn’t purposefully keep yourself aware of what was going on in Peter’s life, but a supposed terrorist attack in DC made the news—with Peter in the headlines. You’d heard the rumors of his involvement, but you didn’t believe them. The Peter you knew would never do such a thing. The Peter before you now wouldn’t either, no matter what he’d gone through.

His perseverance was what you had always admired most about him growing up; Peter had never let the negative affect him. His first year of high school, he didn’t make the basketball team, so for the next year, he worked even harder to improve his skills. You had even helped him, not that you were much competition.

Then Peter’s father was arrested, and his whole world turned upside down. It was a new kind of negative, one that Peter didn’t know how to handle. It had taken him down a dark path, but he emerged into the light as an FBI agent, hoping to do some good for his country.

If you were being honest, discovering how much Peter had accomplished in his life had wounded your pride. It might be petty, but it had hurt to know that he hadn’t needed you to support him and cheer him on during the ups and downs of his life. You had thought that you would always be there for each other. You thought that because he didn’t need you, you didn’t need him either.

So you worked endlessly to become a lawyer, and then you switched career paths and joined the BAU in Quantico. It was the FBI like Peter, but at least you wouldn’t have to interact with him.

Until there was a request from the White House for an agent who specialized in behavioral analysis, and your boss recommended you.

You had never thought you’d run into Peter, and when you did, you deflected and tried to keep things professional and distant between you.

But spending time with him again—even through the absolute shit show going on—you could see that the Peter you’d known, your Peter, was still there, and it hit you like a pile of bricks.

You discovered this when he left you and Rose at the Georgetown library. When Rose mentioned that she didn’t get into Stanford, Peter brought up the fact that you had, and then he’d begun to tease you about “knowing absolutely everything because you went to fancy-ass Stanford.”

That had been it for you. That was the moment you realized that your love for him had never faded, and you were desperate to tell him.

You wanted to tell him that you had never loved anyone as much as you loved him, that there had been nights where you would dream of him and remember how he had made you quiver beneath him, that he could still make your knees go weak just by smiling at you.

You wanted to tell him everything.

Then Peter had to go talk to Diane Farr, so he dropped you and Rose off at his friend Cisco’s place. You didn’t get the chance to talk to him in private. When he got back, you promised yourself, you would tell him.

But of course, everything had turned to shit again.

Peter had discovered that Farr was in on everything, so he told Cisco to drive you and Rose to the pier, but the maniacs out to kill Rose were following you. You thought you had ditched them, so Cisco dropped Rose you and off so you could get away.

When Peter finally made it to the beach and killed the man who’d shot at your group of three in the hotel ballroom, he realized that you weren’t there. Rose told him that when Cisco dropped the two of you off, the hitman had found you, so you split up to try to lure him away. Your training and experience at the BAU led you to believe that the hitman wouldn’t stray from trying to kill his target, so you told Rose to run as you started firing your gun at the hitman. You led him down a different path than the one Rose had taken, and the last thing Rose had heard was several more rounds of gunshots before the hitman had found her again.

Clutching the knife wound in his side, Peter tried to stand and Rose had to help him up. He was frantic, calling your burner until his own went dead, and then he couldn’t breathe, his words coming out in stutters and pants.

“I have to find her, Rose. I—I can’t lose her again, I have to—“

“Peter!”

Your voice broke through the darkness of Peter’s mind and the night surrounding him, and when you ran out from the tree line onto the rocky shore, it was as if everything was clear again.

You were a bit disheveled, a bloody gash on your forehead, and you were limping from graze from a bullet on your leg, but nothing was broken or seriously injured. Rose helped the two of you to a vehicle and drove to where Peter’s godfather kept his boat.

It was after Rose helped you and Peter clean your wounds when the three of you heard on the radio that Cisco had been killed and Peter was being framed for kidnapping the Vice President’s daughter. For years, Peter had worked so hard to make a name for himself that didn’t connect him to his father and his supposed crimes. And with a single message to the public, Peter was back at square one.

You and Rose had left Peter to himself on the deck of the boat as you sailed out over the water, but after a while, you decided to join him to see if you could bring him some comfort.

Peter had thrown Kevin into the water, and you sat next to him, the two of you dangling your legs over the edge of the boat.

“I’m so sorry, Peter,” you hummed, “For everything.”

Peter sighed. “The world is so fucked up right now.”

You nodded, hesitant to continue where you wanted to go. “It is, but I’m also sorry about what happened between us…back then.”

“Oh,” he said, turning to you from looking out upon the water. “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

You shook your head. “Yes, there is. I was still holding something back, and I guess I wanted to prove something to myself, that I didn’t need you, because you managed to make something of yourself and I wasn’t there to witness it, I—“

You let out a groan, frustrated with how your words were coming out wrong and not making sense.

“I’m sorry,” you sighed. “I’m not blaming you. It’s me and how I’m stubborn and defiant, and I always try to prove people wrong even though they have nothing against me. My boss says that’s why I act before I think, like running headfirst into danger without a second thought.”

Surprisingly, Peter chuckled at that. “I can get that. You trying to distract that maniac at the park? It was completely reckless. I wanted to throttle you, you made me so worried.”

 “Damn, Sutherland, I didn’t think you’d be so worried about me,” you joked, nudging him with your shoulder.

You watched the expression in his eyes turn from light and playful to serious and passionate.

“Fuck,” Peter swore, muttering your name under his breath as he pulled away and began to pace despite his side bleeding. “Of course I was worried. I will always worry for you. I didn’t know what had happened, and when Rose told me that you’d split up, I was about to search every inch of the park in order to find you. I wouldn’t rest until I got you back.”

You took in the intensity of his eyes, and you knew he was serious. “Peter, you were hurt. There’s no way you would’ve—“

“It wouldn’t have mattered!” He interrupted, his voice now close to breaking. It shocked you, how concerned and emotional he was.

“Peter, what are you—“

“Damn it,” Peter cursed, turning to face you and cradling your face in his hands. “I could be missing all four of my limbs and I would still find a way to get to you.”

You closed your eyes, your skin remembering the way his touch felt. It was like cool water quenching your thirst, and nothing had ever felt so good. “God, Peter, you still know how to make me fall for you.”

When you opened your eyes, Peter’s face was so close to yours, you could make out every freckle on his skin. You glanced down at his lips, then back to his eyes, a brown as rich and delectable as chocolate.

Peter kissed you then, and it was as if the world was suddenly set right from being upside down and misaligned for so long. The way his mouth moved against yours sent tingles down your spine, and he still tasted sweet and fresh, like taking a bite out of a ripe, red apple.

It made you crave more.

You ran your hands over his shoulders, and he gripped your waist tightly, lifting you to move and straddle his lap. Peter held you close as the boat rocked with the waves, kissing you until you were breathless, and you knew that the two of you would never let each other go again.

The way I could've written an entire book with this idea, my God. Omg, should I?

[peaky-shelby]

Define Me | Neymar x OC [6]

Summary: Famous Singer and Actress, Gabriella Hamill, travels to Qatar after being invited on live television by her favorite player, Lionel Messi. Despite the invitation, Ella tries to avoid the cameras and hide in plain side, wanting to enjoy the games without the chaos that comes with being in Public places and it all seems to be going well until she meets Neymar Jr. in this bad boy meets good girl story, the definition of good and bad is lost between the lines and redefined by the past and future.

« Previous chapter

Chapter 6: regretful by definition

Chapter summary: I'll let this one be a surprise 👀

Writer's note: as always please reblog and most importantly comment so i know y'all are still reading and i can write most chapters. There are probably only four left in the series btw.

Taglist: @xngelsau @sirensanction @reneyahh @thegrinch101 @geekwritersworld @chaotic-taco-collector-blog @blondedjoys @maneaterss @inthemoonlightblue @iluvneyney @woozarts @missamericana69 @bjoriis @marialikescherries @measimp @morganadpl @neymarloverxxx

Ask anyone in the business and they’d tell you that Peter Evans and Gabriella Hamill were the IT Couple of Hollywood. Long time friends before they were actually a thing and when they became a thing the internet went wild. Both at their high of their careers, with Peter taking over Marvel Studios and Lily with her own TV show and a fresh Oscar win. America’s sweetheart was dating Captain America himself and they seemed more in love than anyone and It was true they were. Paradise lasted for a year before it turned to the typical one-sided relationship in which both partners go on and on about their wants and their needs but neither of them seems to listen meanwhile the pressure of the media was always there, pressuring them to get married, to start a family to become a Hollywood royalty. Peter wanted that, she didn’t.

“Peter, I’ve told you before- I can’t do this!” she yelled, while making her way to the kitchen, trying to avoid him but he followed behind her like an angry dog.

“There’s difference between can’t and wont Ella!”

She turned aggressively back at him, pointing with her finger “I was honest with you from the start! I told you I didn’t want kids, not for a long time-“

“That was two fucking years ago, relationships evolve!”

“There has not been a day in this fucking relationship that you haven’t pressured me about it!” she said louder. “All your fucking jokes on interviews, talking about how much you want to be a dad, throwing shots at me whenever- it is in fact exhausting-“

Their fights would usually end nowhere good but at least most of them were at home, where no one else could hear them or record, meanwhile they’d play the happy couple on the carpet. Until it exploded in their face.

January 7, 2020 – One Day Before A Concert, Greece

“I’m tired of you pretending that we are fine, we are not fine Peter!” she screamed in between her sobs.

“Maybe it’s because you were fucking your fucking guitarist a moment ago-“ he mumbled, standing in front of the wide window from were he could see Acropolis. The hotel room was small, so small that it could easily turn into a war zone in just a few seconds. Gabriella watched him with her eyes wide open.

“You think I’d do that to you?” she asked, her voice cracking. She wiped her tears with the back of her hand. “no” she shook her head “You’re just looking for a reason to blame this on me, so you won’t blame yourself- its what you’ve always done!”

He turned to face her, his expression blank, his t shirt wrinkled. “It’s not my fault you can’t have any kids, it’s yours, isn’t it?”

To that she didn’t respond but if there was a sound to describe her heart breaking it would be the cold sigh that escaped her lips. She had never felt this pain in her chest before, the man she loved most in the world stabbing her with words she had only ever trusted him with. A part of her wanted to find an excuse, to blame it on the drinks he had before he came to her hotel room but another was sick of the gas lighting and the manipulation and being distracted like that.

“How dare you?” she whispered. He avoided her eyes, looked anywhere but her. He rubbed his face while she got closer. She hit him on the chest, slapped him repeatedly until he grabbed both of her hands and dropped them. He walked away from her, grabbed his jacket from the bed and put it on. Gabriella watched him leave and when he opened the door, she grabbed the nearest glass she could find and threw it at him on the hall, yelling every curse word she could think of. Everything else from that night was a blur, she knew people had seen her in the hallway in the hotel. She locked herself in her room, drank every bottle of alcohol she could find and woke up in the shower, while Maggie was throwing water in her face. Broken glasses and broken bottles covered the floors, which she must have stepped on and fallen on repeatedly because she had was bleeding from multiple scars. Next time she opened her eyes, she was in a hospital room, everyone wondering what the hell had happened to America’s sweetheart.

It wasn’t long before she fell back in her old habits, painkillers and sometimes heavy drugs. That addiction had started when she was 20. Only Maggie and Chris knew why, only Maggie kept the secret because on November 1st, just a few days before the election the whole world found out about the “Abortion of the America’s sweetheart”. She never thought she could be used as a political weapon, until she watched republicans yelling on TV about how the “democratic” actress and rolemodel would ruin their daughter’s future. She didn’t think she could ever love anyone after that until now.

But he didn’t kiss him. Although his lips hovered over hers for what felt like hours, she didn’t kiss him. She walked out of the car and walked back home, keeping her head down as she thought about kissing him and what it would mean. Ask her why she didn’t and she wouldn’t give you a straight answer because the truth is she didn’t know. She didn’t even wait for him to come after her like they did in movies and grab her in the most romantic way before putting his lips on hers. She was a lonely, scared, defensive idiot that couldn’t allow herself to fall in love with anyone and she really thought she had succeeded for the last 2 years in doing that. She really hadn’t fallen in love with anyone, anyone she’d kiss would be a fling, burnt out by noon and yet Neymar was a fire, and she hadn’t even kissed him yet.

She laid on her bed, staring at the ceiling. At some point she fell asleep and her mind started wandering in her darkest memories, reminding her of all the reasons she didn’t kiss him, all the reasons of her disappearance. When she woke up in the morning she had her coffee alone on the balcony, she didn’t even open her phone to see how the game with France ended. Maggie didn’t even try to begin a conversation; she knew better than that. And the whole day seemed to be going as silent and as that until she heard the doorbell and it was weird because every inch of her body wanted to be Neymar. She opened the door hopeful and was met by the kind smile of Antonella. Holding a bowl of Ice Cream on her hands. “Mama said it can freeze away any worry.” Gabriella couldn’t help but smile and let her in, leading her outside on the balcony where they both sat, eating from the same bowl.

“Did you see the game?” asked Antonella, taking a full bite of ice cream.

“No, I was too busy regretting all my life choices” she said, swallowing the ice cream.

“It’s fine the English seemed to be doing the same thing-“

Gabriella left down her spoon, surprised “England lost?”

“Hmm” nodded Antonella “France is on the semi finals.”

“France against Portugal then?”

“Oh no!” Antonella said quickly raising her finger “Morocco”

Now she was in real shock, she laughed, covering her mouth “Are you kidding?”

“Nope.” She smiled “Hakimi showed Ronaldo how it’s done.”

Gabriella shook her hand and reached for the phone on her pocket, finally opening it. All the texts that had been sent overnight while she had it shut down, reached her, beep after beep and she ignored them all until he name popped on her screen. Her expression fell, her eyes closing.

“Estas Bien?” Asked Antonella. Gabriella left her phone on the table and leaned back on her chair, letting out a deep huff “No, no I am not.” She said quickly “Think I’ll spent today regretting all my life choices as well.”

“You could do that.” Antonella reached for bowl, digging in her spoon until she was satisfied “or you could make some new choices.” She added, eating from her spoon.

Gabriella glanced up, raising her eyebrows “What is that a Spanish saying or something?”

“I mean I could say it in Spanish if it makes you feel better.”

Gabriella sat better on her chair, looking at Antonella like a kid. She hesitated but then- “Can you please?” she asked. She wanted to hear the language, she wanted to pretend it was her mother across from her for a while. Gabriella smiled and pulled the chair closer to Gabriella, reaching for her cheek. “puedes pensar en las elecciones pasadas o puedes ir y hacer nuevas y buenas elecciones.” She leaned closer as she said it and perhaps it was an automatic response but Gabriella threw herself on her and hugged her as tight as she could, hiding her face in her hair. “está bien chiquitín! ¡no te preocupes” whispered Antonella, rubbing her back while she sobbed in her arms. “Hey- hey, ¡Oye! Mírame.” She asked, and Gabriella obeyed, looking up to her. Antonella wiped her tears away quickly “Fue él quien me dijo que viniera a verte. Estaba muy preocupado.” Gabriella knew she was referring to Neymar. He's the one that called her to come, something along those lines. Antonella was quick to translate it to English “He called me and told me he was worried because you weren’t answering” Gabriella felt immediately bad, she sniffed back her sobs. “Leo had an advice too.”

“Leo knows about this?” she asked, feeling embarrassed.

“Of course, he does. He wanted to come but he had training.”

“What’s his advice then?”

“cuando tienes el balón, marcas. Sólo pasan unos segundos antes de que llegue alguien, te lo robe y te placen mientras lo haces.”

Gabriella smiled. She got a few words, something about scoring when you have the ball otherwise you will get tackled and broken before you even know it. “It’s always about football with him, isn’t?” she laughed in between her sobs. Antonella nodded, smiling.

“You learn to get used to it.” She said and hugged her again, holding her close to her chest.

NEYMAR’S APARTMENT – NIGHT

Outside it was raining. Inside Kylian Mbappe was making most of the noise, yelling at the screen whenever he’d miss a chance while playing fifa. “Hey! Wake up!” he yelled looking at Neymar, who was barely playing. Kylian paused the game, throwing the control on the couch and then grabbing a pillow and throwing it on his friend’s face.

“HEY!” Neymar yelled back at him “what the fuck?” he asked, holding on the pillow.

“You wanna focus on the game?”

“What does it matter, it’s just a game isn’t it?” he mumbled, throwing his controller on the table.

“Is this about brazil loosing?”

“What else would it be about?”

“I don’t know mystery girl aka Gabriella Hamill possibly.”

“No.” Neymar answered quickly, leaning back at the couch. He could feel Kylian staring and it was in fact getting annoying “Maybe it’s both.”

“Maybe.” Kylian mocked, laughing. Neymar got up and headed straight for the table with the drinks.

“I think I’ll leave tomorrow. Head back to brazil-“he said while pouring a drink for himself. Kylian watched him from over the couch, shifting his body to look at him.

“You just rented this apartment.”

“They’ll get their money. It’s fine. I wanna go back home…”

“Or get away” mumbled Kylian under his breath, sifting his body to look back at the screen.

“What does that mean?”

“Come on Ney. You always run away when things are hard, it’s your thing, either that or you get it out on the referees.” He laughed, Neymar got an ice cube from the bowl and threw it at him.

“HEY!” He yelled rubbing his head and looking back at Neymar who sat back to where he was sitting before, taking a sip from his fresh drink. “Didn’t even make me one?”

“Shut up.” Mumbled Neymar as a thunder sounded from outside the house. Just a few seconds later, the door bell rang, startling both of them. If someone had recorded their reaction it would have gone viral, Neymar jumped so abruptly he spilled his drink on the floor and Kylian cuddled himself on the corner of the couch. Kylian kicked Neymar.

“Don’t open the goddamn door. I’ve seen horror movies starting like that-“

Neymar took a few breaths to relax and completely ignored his friend. He got up and walked to the door. Looking at the camera screen, first. He couldn’t believe his eyes. He opened the door quickly, her small figure standing in front of him. Covered just by her hoodie which was completely wet by now, he stared down at her, now knowing how to act or what to do.

“hey.” She whispered, coughing.

“Hi.” He responded. The tension between them raising until-

“Bonjour!” jumped in Kylian, getting Gabriella’s attention who let out a small laugh when she saw him. She covered her mouth quickly.

“Bonjour Kylian.” She said from behind her hand. Neymar smiled at the way she was blushing.

“Are you going to invite her in dude?” he asked, reminding Neymar his manners. Neymar motioned for Ella to get in and closed the door. “Ms. Hamill, enchante” he said sitting up on the couch.

“Comment ca va Kylian?” she asked, while Neymar unzipped and took of her wet hoodie leaving her with just her t-shirt.

“Tu parle francais?” he asked surpised and got up to walk closer to her.

“I’ll get you another one.” Said Neymar quickly, running to his bedroom to get another hoodie. Meanwhile Kylian seemed to be enjoying the awkwardness.

“En peu.” She answered his question, narrowing her eyes “felicitations pour la victoire!” she added, smiling up at him. Neymar sprinted back to her with one of his hoodies, helping her wear it. After that he just kept staring at her and she at him, while Kylian was staring at both of them.

“Kylian.” Neymar addressed him without even looking at him.

“Hm?”

“Get the fuck out.”

“it’s raining.” He smiled, looking at Gabriella now.

“thankfully you’re not made out of sugar.” He answered quickly.

“What if I get hit by a thunder.”

“Kylian.” Repeated Neymar, this time more as a warning.

“Yes of course.” He nodded and ran to get his shoes, putting them on quickly and returning to where his was before. He took hold of Gabriella’s hand and kissed it, smirking at her. “You be good kids.” He added before leaving them alone.

When he shut the door both of them seemed to relax.

“You want a drink?” asked Neymar, moving to the table with the drinks.

“Yes please.” She asnwered, following behind him, slowly. All while he was pouring the drinks, she was staring at his hands, tracing the tattoos on his skin, the ones she could see, with her eyes. She was still staring when he turned back to her to hand her drink and she made sure to touch skin as he took the glass in her own hands. Her gaze slowly lifted to land on him. There was something about her eyes, he hadn’t noticed before, lust. The way she looked at him like she was promising a future, like she was begging for one. She got closer and Neymar actually felt his heard beating faster, he was anxious. He was never anxious. She let her glass down on the table, there was so much silence he heard the glass settling on the silver, like a warning. He took another sip while he watched her and he would have taken another one if she hadn’t reached for his glass, taking it away from him, leaving it next to hers while her eyes remained on his. Then she held on his shit, pulling him down to her.

“I stopped you last night.” She said in a whisper. He was stepped closer, his confidence returning, he gently rubbed his nose against hers. “Would you accept my apology?” she asked, their lips inches apart. He smirked.

“Depends. What do I get in return?”

She looked back and forth between his eyes and his lips, her face serious, sexy, her expression hypnotizing. “Me.”

He crashed his lips on hers without sparing even a second. Taking in her taste, her smell, everything she could give him in that moment and if you asked her, she’d tell you that she would give him anything, anything he wanted as long as he asked her for it. He lifted her up in his arms, almost like he wanted to make sure she was real and not just a fantasy. His kisses trailed down to her chin and then her neck as she leaned her head back, she he’d have better access, a soft moan escaping along with her breath. That was enough to give him all the confidence he needed for the whole night. “me” she said to him and he would take all of her as if her life depended on it. He carried her to his room, laid her on his bed as he took of his shirt, showing her every single tattoo all over his body. He hovered above her, balancing his arms on the bed. He started from her neck, leaving a mark on her skin as a reminder in the morning and then her ear, biting it slightly.

She grabbed his face in her hands, pulling him down to kiss her lips instead because that’s what she wanted most, to taste him, to keep kissing him until her lips were dry and she had no air left in her lungs. He pulled of his hoodie from her and just a second later, he took off her t-shirt, kissed her breast while she let fingers get lost in his curls. She reached under his chin, to make him look up at her. He smirked again, leaning his head down to her ear.

“Apology accepted.” He whispered and made sure that night he’d take exactly what she promised him… her.

dw the steamy part is not over, just wanted to let you look forward for the next chapter. As always please please comment, it's very important to keep my going. I love you all xx comment what you like so far. How do you think this will end? Will they just be happy for the next 4 chapters? Or is there another storm coming 👀👀

[elysianymph]

The Jegulily Band Au? 👀

hehehe the jegulily band au started on this post made by archie ( @aithusarosekiller ) and it hasn't left my mind since. go look through the reblogs bc it's a wild ride. pretty sure both of us have most of the posts related to it tagged as jegulily band au on our accounts so go look through it to see us losing our minds

it's shared project so nothing is set in stone but here are my current ideas for it :D

lily and regulus are high school sweethearts, they met bc they were both in the school band and hit it off from there. lots of teenage shenanigans ensue and lily and regulus end up forming a band with barty, peter and remus. it's nothing serious they just kinda get together once in a while to have some fun playing random songs. they continue this after high school as they're all going to college and everything is normal UNTIL sirius brings along his friends (james and marlene) to one of their band get togethers.

james (who is an amazing producer btw) immediately falls for regulus and lily despite them being already in a relationship and he's like so smitten it's adorable honestly. he starts talking to them and once he finds out they would love to make an album and try taking this band thing seriously he immediately offers himself up to help them make music. and he brings marlene (who is a social media manager) into it like "yeah she'll help you manage all of it" (she has no idea he's doing any of this)

idk how they would actually get together but it doesn't matter rn what does matter is that their silly little band debuts and they go viral bc their music is amazing ofc. they make more albums, their music videos get millions of views, they sell out stadiums, life is great.

everyone knows that regulily are dating bc they're so public about it, but no one knows that james even exists (apart from him being credited as their producer) let alone that he's dating both of them. james, being the rockstar gf he is, constantly posts pictures from their concerts, always with romantic captions or wtvr bc he's a lover like that. the comments on his posts are always split between "this guy is delusional" and "how tf does he manage to get the tickets for EVERY DAMN CONCERT??"

after lots of back and forth, regulus and lily finally get james to star in one of the music videos for a song that lily wrote specifically about their relationship. they tease the song for months, posting snippets and strange photos with captions that don't make sense unless you're following james and you can see that the captions are all connected. everyone just thinks james is delulu

a week before the music video drops, the band's official account posts like a 10 second teaser and it's of lily and regulus doing couple shit BUT there's another guy there with curly hair and round glasses and everyone is going insane bc WHY DOES THAT GUY LOOK LIKE JAMES POTTER THE CRAZY STALKER. jegulily are having the time of their lives watching the fans go crazy, meanwhile poor marlene has to deal with the aftermath

this au is just a bunch of crazy stuff honestly i had so many ideas for it but i didn't write any of them down so i'm stuck with what i can remember off the top of my head </3

oh and also peter/remus/sirius are all dating and sirius is a famous model and he just randomly appears in the band's music videos and all the comments scream "WHAT IS SIRIUS BLACK DOING HERE" like sirius doesn't regularly post selfies with both of his boyfriends 🙄

[silverzoomies]

ask of the day (night, its nearly 1am) bc i actually wont get out ur inbox ur the realest peter fan

FIRST OF ALL. he SO would watch weird little nostalgic kiddy things with you, catch me and peter working through my hello kitty dvds and my road runner dvds. (he loves looney toons)

SECOND. ive said it before and ill say it again i need it ENGRAVED in everyones minds. he IS old 5sos (personality wise) i said to dawn about the how did we end up talking in the first place one. DONT STOP? please. KISS ME KISS ME? SHE LOOKS SO PERFECT? it'd probably be his star wars boxers or smth rather than american apparel underwear BUT PLEASE HES SO 2014 5SOS.

Also, as a primarily dc girl, its time to point out to the public ur fav in xmen is peter, ur fav in titans is gar. Silly, cute sweetheart gamer nerd collector gar who uses his powers to steal shit. sound familiar? i dont make the rules if peters ur fav then gar is ur fav

I ALWAYS APPRECIATE YOUR LIL ASKS RI !! NEVER GET TIRED OF DISCUSSING MY BOY !!!🩷🩷🩷

i think about him watching classic cartoons all the time !! looney tunes, ninja turtles, hanna barbera, especially shit like thundercats and he-man !! if he watched hello kitty or strawberry shortcake cartoons with you, i bet my left foot he'd make unnecessary commentary the whole time. crackin' jokes. riffing. i'd love for him to riff,,

I GOTTA BE SO REAL WITH YOU BTW HONEY...I'VE NEVER LISTENED TO 5SOS A DAY IN MY LIFE !!! so i really have noooo idea where you're comin' from here !! but i'll def give 'em a listen now !! god you're absolutely right about the star wars boxers tho kdsjghdsjkgdsg

ive also nEVER SEEN TITANS !! the only dc stuff ive ever taken an interest in is batman (batman forever being one of my top five fav movies. i watched gotham back when it aired too !!) but if one of the characters is anything like peter in personality, you do have my attention👀 i also just realized that explains the source of your username lmao

[whumpbug]

Hi Whumpbug I'm the same anon who asked the question about Sylvia and Clint, and I'm only disclosing that because I wanted to say that when I said "I'm sure I don't speak for everyone," what I meant was "I'm sure I speak for everyone"

so. oops

Anyway

Out of curiosity, how does Archie feel about superheroes? Partially as a vigilante (like, does he think their portrayal in media is realistic to the superpowered crimefighting experience) and partially as a fan (is the genre super cool)

Also, does he take inspiration from any of them? You've mentioned that he banters with his enemies while fighting and smiles at the people he saves, which is very reminiscent of Spider-Man to me (one of my very very favorites) so I'm wondering if he does that on purpose or if he's just a sweetheart who wants to dissolve the tension for the people in danger and it leads to him acting like that

HI YES OKAY. i was hoping someone would ask this because archie is based off of so many different superheroes... i am a dc nerd and also a mild marvel fan so. YIPPEE!!

(also youre totally good anon i didn't even notice the typo!)

✮⋆˙

so i want to start by saying that archie is like. well he's kind of meant to replace spiderman and/or daredevil in this universe. its hard to explain. like i'd like to think he lives in a universe where no other well-known comic book superheros actually exist and they are all fictional in his universe.

if that makes sense.

i feel like im getting really into the meta here but to put it simply, archie's story takes place in new york (which means archie has a new york accent btw). he's like an alternative universe spider-man/daredevil combo (if you look at his powers specifically) so those characters no longer exist but every other comic book character exists as fictional characters. especially dc because the cities in dc are mostly made up.

SO back to the question at hand.

i think archie sees their portrayal in comics as a bit dramatic. like batman is always brooding in his little cave and archie is like "yeah right." i feel like he's amused at when superheros get injured in comics because hes like "that guy would NOT be doing those flips after breaking three ribs and getting a severe concussion. i'd know."

BUT he does enjoy the comics anyways. he thinks they're very entertaining and hes just a Nerd so he looks past all the inaccuracies for a good story!

i feel like the character he identifies the most with is nightwing (my beloved) because hes a vigilante working on a small scale and he likes how silly he is. he looks to him for the most inspiration because he loves how down to earth he is with civilians. he also related to having his World Rocked at a very young age

and as for who my (author) inspirations for him were, it's a combonation of 3 main ones that i've already mentioned but i'm going to briefly explain why/how:

peter parker/spider man - this one is kind of obvious. archie is this sunny, quippy, young guy from new york who goes around at night beating up bad guys and buying hotdogs from the hotdog vendors.

matt murdock/daredevil - i took this man more for the concept of having an accident happen to you as a kid and gaining enhanced abilities from it. obviously archie is not blind, but he does have heightened senses and operates in kind of the same location and on the same small scale as daredevil!

dick grayson/nightwing - tbh i included him because i love him and i modeled archie's sass on him. he's different from peter parker becasue he's older and so is archie, but the similarities also come in their humor and quips! the vigil suit is also vaguely inspired by nightwing's suit

all three - all of these guys have a (sort of strict) No Killing Rule and i'd like to think archie does. he'd never killed anyone, ony beat them up quite badly, and he wants to keep it that way

✮⋆˙

THANK YOU FOR THE OPPURTUNITY TO RAMBLE ABOUT MY FAVORITE COMIC BOOK CHARACTERS YIPPEE!! this was so fun to answer archie is So Special to me

[underoospeterparker]

hie !! m sorry ab the typhoon :// i'll tell it to come faster tehe !! anyways i have this funny req for peter sutherland or james potter ! so basically i am liek the biggest ever taylor swift fan , and im also a huge crybaby lol!! so imagine if peter comes home 2 reader sobbing her eyes out to dear reader or my tears ricochet or something with a blanket wrapped around her and like over her head and he's just so concerned😭😭 ik he'd be so cute tho and such a good listener<3333 ilysm bb ty !! and ofc u don't have to write this if u don't want mwah !

we got to skip school today so we get a long weekend!

anyways back to the point i love this! i'm choosing jamie bc i haven't written for him in a while hope that's okay! btw i don't know my tears ricochet (sorry swifties!) so i did it for cardigan, a classic

-> note: this is kinda all over the place lol

you pulled the covers tightly around your head, tears falling down the apple of your cheeks.

and when i felt like i was an old cardigan, under someone's bed

"you put me on and said I was your favourite," you sung, totally off tune as you sobbed to taylor's lyrics.

the loud music you had playing from the speaker all but muted the sound of james entering the apartment and his soft, 'baby? you there?"

"a friend to all, is a friend to none," you screamed, almost collapsing onto the floor. "choose two girls, lose the one."

when you are young they assume you know nothing

"princess?" your boyfriend called, spotting you on the sofa, sobbing your eyes out. "shit, sweetheart, are you okay?"

you rubbed your eyes and gave him a small smile, a hiccup escaping from your throat. you laughed wetly as you turned off the music.

he made his way over to the sofa, kneeling down in front of you. he cupped your face in his large palms, thumbs wiping away the tear tracks that had stained your pretty cheeks. "again, huh?" he asked, chuckling softly. "why's it always cardigan?" he murmured under his breath.

"because it's amazing and emotional," you shrugged, clinging to his neck and pulling him over to sit next to you.

he wrapped an arm round your shoulders, bringing you close enough to press a kiss to the top of your head. "i love you, baby. even when you're being a complete pyscho."

you turned around in his arms, taking his face in your hands and giving him a peck on the lips. "i love you too. thanks for dealing with me, jamie." you whispered, giggling softly.

he smiled against your lips, murmuring, "wouldn't trade it for anything in the world."