#! * OH THE CLEVERNESS OF ME . ( peter )

[cult-of-dollbabies]

I do not understand the hype around that deadpool & wolverine movie. Love the characters, but come on.. movie was not that great. Let's be real

[lovvelorrn]

oh my god…. the grip the great (tv show) has on me…… unexpected + incredibly welcome

[betterto-die-thanto-crawl]

"Someone, somewhere has failed you miserably. You were supposed to be loved, protected and cared for but you never were" for Peter

Peter froze, almost glaring at Humdrum in an effort to hide the pain and nerves that appeared in his eyes at the thoughts that surfaced because of the boy's shared sentiments. "I don't know what you're talking about," he hissed. He turned away to hide the tears gathering in the corner of his eyes.

[takaraphoenix]

Oh, that Peter-Stiles dynamic is just so fascinating. Right off the bat. I remembered that it fascinated me, but I didn't remember that they are fascinating right from the start.

The tension in their first meeting at the hospital. How Peter, who has hurt or killed everyone he encountered so far, just... circles his prey until Derek gets there to defend Stiles.

The way Peter just. Tore into Lydia without a thought. But didn't harm Stiles at all.

The way Peter only bit Scott out of opportunity but wants Stiles in his pack - because Stiles is "the clever one" - and actually offers Stiles the bite. Doesn't force it onto him, fully giving Stiles the choice and then leaving without doing... any harm at all... when Stiles says no.

Obsessed with how obsessed Peter is with Stiles.

[waitimcomingtoo]

Bringing Sexy Back

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Synopsis: Peter tries and fails to seduce you

Masterlist

To kick off the summer, Tony organized a group vacation to a resort at “one of his less crowded islands”, as he put it. The team sat together on the quinjet while Tony gave out the room assignments to everyone, ending with you and Peter.

“Parker and my beloved offspring, you’re in the penthouse suit with me. But don’t worry, you guys have your own room. It’s just connected to mine with thin walls and a door I can easily break down.” Tony said with a calm smile.

“Thanks, dad.” You smiled back at him before excusing yourself to go to the bathroom. Once you were gone, Sam leaned over to him.

“Wow, I feel for you, man. You really got the short end of the stick.” Sam said and patted Peters back.

“Short? I’m 5’8. That’s average height.” Peter defended himself.

“For a woman.” Sam snorted. “But that’s not what I meant.”

“What did you mean?” Peter wondered.

“I mean you finally get to spend the night with your girlfriend and her dad is in the next room. That means the only way you’re getting laid is if you crawl up a chicken's ass and wait.” Sam replied, making everyone laugh at Peters's expense.

“Oh. That’s gotta hurt.” Bruce laughed. “It hurt me and it wasn’t even directed at me.”

“That’s called a ricochet.” Natasha said. “Also done by bullets and Taylor Swifts tears.”

“I understood that reference.” Steve chimed in.

“Did you?” Peter asked skeptically, making Steve’s smile fall.

“That’s the one that sings “Single Ladies”, right?” He whispered to Natasha.

“Uh huh.” Natasha smiled sarcastically.

“Are you gonna take that, Parker?” Bruce asked Peter. Peter noticed everyone was looking at him and blushed in embarrassment.

“It wasn’t that clever. Chickens don’t even lay eggs. Hens do. And we don’t do that so it doesn’t matter.” He mumbled. Everyone’s eyes widths they leaned forward in their seats.

“Don’t do what?” Sam asked for clarification. Peter looked around at all the peering eyes and shrunk down in his seat.

“Sex.” Peter reluctantly admitted.

“You don’t do sex?” Sam laughed in surprise.

“Have we forgotten how to speak?” Natasha asked the crowd.

“Why are you guys all looking at me the way we looked at Bucky when he told us he didn’t wash his ass in the shower?” Peter asked.

“It honestly never crossed my mind.” Bucky shrugged.

“Hold on. How long have you guys been together?” Bruce asked Peter.

“Two months.”

“Two months? And you haven’t smushed yet?” Sam gasped.

“Ew. Smushed? There’s no actual smushing involved, right?” Peter forced a laugh. No one replied and his smile fell.

“Right?” He asked seriously.

“No offense kid, but that’s a long time to keep a lady waiting.” Steve said. “You two need to do a little bit of the old how’s yer father, if you know what I mean.”

“I don’t. What the fuck does that mean?” Sam asked and pulled out his phone.

“Who are you to talk? Aren’t you a 1,000 year old virgin?” Peter deadpanned.

“100 years.” Steve corrected. “And yes. I am.”

“No he’s not.” Bucky said.

“I googled it. It was Steve’s old man way of saying putting some stank on it.” Sam read off his phone.

“Why haven’t you guys done it yet?” Natasha wondered. “It’s not like you just met. You’ve known her for years.”

“Yeah, but she’s only been my girlfriend for two months of those years. It’s a big transition. We’re waiting for the right moment.”

“So you’ve talked about it?” Steve asked him.

“Well, no.” Peter admitted. “I’m just assuming.”

“Assuming what exactly?” Natasha asked.

“That’s she’s waiting for the right moment to tell me she wants to do it. And then it’ll just happen then.” Peter shrugged.

“Hm.” Natasha said curtly. Peter noticed the look on everyone’s face and grew worried.

“What?” He laughed nervously.

“Nothing.” Steve shrugged and avoided eye contact.

“You can’t make that face and say “hm” and then not tell me.” Peter insisted.

“I think she’s ready.” Steve admitted. “I think she’s more than ready. You’re the one who’s not ready. That’s why you haven’t made a move yet.”

“She could’ve made a move.” Peter pointed out.

“No girl wants that.” Sam waved his hand. “They want their man to take charge and sweep them off their feet. You know, romance? Making her feel special?”

“She hates being lifted off her feet.” Peter insisted. “I picked her up once and she punched me in the throat and the bing bongs at the same time.”

“Hey, I taught her that move. I’m glad to see she’s using it.” Natasha smiled proudly.

“I have to agree with Sam on this one.” Steve said. “Girls like a romantic gesture. I’m not saying you have to literally sweep her off her feet, but make it clear that you want her. Or else she’s gonna start to feel under appreciated and unseen.”

“You guys don’t know what you’re talking about. We’re waiting and that’s okay.” Peter insisted.

“She’s waiting. For you. To make a God damn move already.” Sam replied.

“And you know what happens if you wait too long?”

“What happens?” Peter gulped.

“She’ll find someone who’s ready now.” Sam shrugged.

“Well what am I supposed to do? How do I make her feel special?”

“She was your best friend before your girlfriend right?” Bruce asked him.

“Yeah.”

“So she should be the person you’re most comfortable with. Just make a move. She’ll make a move in return. That’s how it works.” Bruce explained.

“Just like that?” Peter asked skeptically.

“Just like that.” Sam confirmed. By the point, you were back from the bathroom and sitting in a seat by yourself. Peter graced himself before going over to sit beside you.

“Hey.” Peter smiled at you.

“Hey Petey. What’s going on?” You smiled back.

“Nothing much. Just wanted to come sit by my lady.” He said and wrapped an arm around you.

“Aw. You’re so cute.” You smiled and leaned into him.

“You’re cute. Are these new?” He asked and tugged on the hem of your shorts.

“New to me.” You shrugged. “I stole them from Pepper.”

“I like them. They look good on you.” He said as he looked into your eyes. You smiled at the compliment and leaned in to kiss his cheek. Peter blushed and looked over his shoulder at Sam, who was nodding his head to give him the go ahead. Peter nodded back before returning his attention to you. He went to put his hand on your thigh, but since the action was unnatural to him, he ended up grabbing your thigh so quickly and harshly that you jumped.

“Oh my God. What was that?” You gasped and pushed his hand off.

“Sorry. There was a spider on your leg.” Peter quickly lied.

“And you killed it? Isn’t that like…cannibalism?” You asked him.

“No.” Peter chuckled. “Wait. Oh my God. Is it?”

“I don’t know.” You shrugged. “But thanks for killing it. I didn’t even feel it on my leg.”

“Hm. Weird.” Peter forced a laugh. He looked over at Sam again, who was shaking his head in disappointment.

“This is gonna be harder than I thought.” Peter thought to himself.

With Tony in the room right next store, Peter didn’t dare try anything while on the vacation. But once you returned to the tower a week later, it was game time.

“Peter? Are you in here?” You asked as you knocked on his bedroom door one day.

“One second, baby. I’m in the shower.” Peter called to you from the bathroom in his room.

“Okay. I’ll wait out here.” You shouted back and took a seat on his bed. Peter heard your response and thought back to what the team said about making a move. Before he could second guess himself, he called out again.

“You don’t have to do that. Why don’t you join me?”

“What? I can’t hear you over the water.” You said as you walked over to the bathroom door so he could hear you better.

“I didn’t say anything.” He lied when he felt he had failed.

“Oh. It sounded like you did.” You laughed and leaned against his bathroom door.

“That was just the sound of my shampoo bottle falling.” Peter lied.

“Oh. Okay.” You answered skeptically. You were about to go back to his bed when you heard a loud thud.

“Peter? What was that? Did you shampoo fall again?” You opened the door a little to ask him.

“No. My body did.” Peter groaned from the shower floor.

“Oh no. Are you okay?”

“Not really.” He winced. “I think I twisted my ankle.”

“Do you need help?”

“Yeah, but…” Peter began but trailed off.

“But what?” You asked.

“I’m nakey.” He said in a little voice.

“I’ll close my eyes, okay?” You laughed.

“You don’t have to. I just wanted to warn you that you’re about to see the biggest penis you’ve ever seen.” Peter said seriously, making you laugh again.

“Oh really? Is Thor in there?” You asked.

“That was hurtful.”

“You’re such an idiot. I’m coming in, okay? Hide your massive penis.” You warned as you entered the bathroom.

“I’ll try. But it won’t be easy.” Peter sighed. You opened the shower door with your elbow while covering your eyes with both hands.

“I’m here. Can you see me?” You asked him.

“Why would o not be able to see you? You’re the one with your eyes covered.”

“Oh. Right. Where are you?”

“The floor. Because I fell. That’s typically where people end up after they fall.”

“I should just leave you here to drown.” You said and turned to leave.

“Wait, come back. Please.” Peter whined. “They’ll never find a casket big enough to hold my massive schlong.”

“I hate you so much.” You laughed and came back. You bent down and helped him off the floor but grabbing his arm.

“Ah!” You screamed and dropped his arm.

“What?”

“You’re wet.” You grimaced.

“I’m in the shower.” He reminded you.

“I don’t know why but I wasn’t expecting you to be wet. Put my hand on the knob. I’ll turn it off.” You told him. Peter took your hand and guided it to the knob while you kept your eyes tightly shut. You heard the sound of the water turning off and Peter sighing in relief.

“There we go. Much better.” He said.

“Okay. I’m gonna pick you up now.” You told him and bent down to wrap your arms around his torso.

“Ah!” He screamed.

“What?”

“That tickles.” He sheepishly admitted.

“Oh my God.” You laughed. “Where’s your robe?”

“Hanging on the back of the door.” He told you. You kept your eyes shut but walked over to the door and felt around until you found his robe.

“Okay. I found it.”

“Throw it at me.” Peter said. You threw it outwards and it smacked him in the face. “You got it?”

“Yes. Ow.” Peter huffed as he put it on.

“Sorry.” You grimaced.

“Okay. You can open your eyes now.”

“Okay.” You said but didn’t open them.

“Baby. You open them.” Peter laughed.

“Sorry. I got scared.” You admitted as you opened your eyes.

“Of what?” Peter gulped, thinking you were scared to see him naked.

“Of seeing you on the shower floor and getting the biggest ick of my entire life.” You replied, making Peter laugh in relief.

“Fair enough.”

“Come on, little guy. I gotcha.” You bent down and helped him up with ease now that you could see.

“What did we say about calling me “little guy”?” Peter reminded you.

“That it’s funny and hilarious?” You asked innocently as you helped lead him out of the bathroom.

“Those are synonyms.”

“What about cinnamon?”

“What?”

“What?” You asked in reply. He shook his head endearingly as you walked him over to his bed.

“Okay. We’re here. Sit down.” You said and helped him into his bed.

“Well that was fun. And wet.” Peter said as he combed his wet hair out of his face with his fingers.

“You’re telling me.” You said and showed him your now soaking wet shirt.

“Sorry about that. You can grab a shirt from my closet.” He told you.

“Thanks.” You smiled at him before going over to his closet. You pulled out a T shirt and we’re about to put it on when you felt his eyes on you. You looked over your shoulder at him and he turned red.

“I’ll close my eyes.” Peter offered.

“It’s okay. You can watch. I don’t mind.” You smiled innocently at him before turning back around. Peter gulped as you pulled your shirt off and stayed perfectly silent. He could see your bra band when your hair moved and though it wasn’t much, it was as naked as he had ever seen you. You’d never been in so much as bathing suits around the other so this showing of skin was both unexpected but highly anticipated. Peter watched you pull his shirt over your head and fix your hair before turning back around.

“Better?” He asked in a soft voice.

“Better.” You nodded. He couldn’t help but wonder if you knew about the conversation he had had with the team. It wasn’t like you to get changed in front of him so maybe you weren’t trying to make a move as well.

“How’s your ankle feeling?” You asked as you sat on Peters bed.

“Not bad. I think it’s already healing.” He said and moved his robe to look at it.

“Good. You need it to climb walls and shoot webs out of your butt and stuff.”

“I have told you so many times.” Peter sighed. “The webs do not come out of my butt.”

“There is no doubt in my mind that you’re lying and just won’t show me. And that’s fine.” You shrugged.

“You’re ridiculous.” He laughed and took your hand.

“Yeah. Maybe a little.” You chuckled and played with his fingers. A comfortable silence filled the room as Peter started to form a plan in his head.

“So.” He laughed nervously. “Here we are. In my room. Alone.”

“I know. It’s nice.”

“You think so?” Peter asked hopefully.

“Yeah. It’s so rare we get time when no one else is around. It can finally just be the two of us.” You said and reached out to brush some hair off his forehead. Peter felt his whole face flush and scooted a little closer to you.

“I’ve actually been hoping we’d get some alone time.” He told you.

“Me too.” You smiled coyly and leaned in a little.

“Did you have anything in mind you want to do?” He asked and leaned in as well.

“I could think of a few things.” You flirted.

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

“For starters, you’ll have to lose this robe.” You said and ran your hand along the collar of his robe. Peter gulped as you got up and went back over to his closet.

“Done.” Peter nodded as he frantically started to undo the belt of his robe.

“And put this on.” You said as you tossed him some pajamas.

“Whatever you say, pretty girl. Wait, what? What’s this?” Peters smile fell when the pajamas fell into his lap.

“Pajamas. So you can get comfy and we can finally watch New Girl before it leaves Netflix.” You told him.

“Oh. Right. Pajamas. I’ll just put these on.” Peter tried to mask the disappointment in his voice as he tugged his shirt over his head. By the time you were snuggled into his side with your head on his shoulder, his disappointment was gone. He had gotten so caught up in what the team had said that he forgot to appreciate the little moments with you. He let it go for tonight and just enjoyed spending time together.

The next day, he was back on his bullshit. He found you in the kitchen with your back to him as you flipped through a magazine. Peter and wrapped his arms around you and placed a kiss on your shoulder to let you know he meant business.

“Hey you.” He said as he rested his chin on your shoulder.

“Hey Petey. What’s going on?” You smiled over your shoulder at him.

“Nothing. I just wanted to see you.”

“You’re so sweet lately. What’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing. I just really like you.” He replied and kissed your shoulder again. He decided to make a move and tilted his chin a little higher so he could kiss your neck.

“Fuck me.” You whispered as you flipped a page of your magazine. Peter immediately perked up and turned you around, thinking his plan had worked.

“What was that?” He gulped as his face burned bright red.

“Sorry. Paper cut.” You said and held up your bleeding finger. Peter took a split second to realized you were cursing, not requesting, before jumping into action.

“Here. Let me help.” He said and gently took your finger. He walked to the bathroom with you and turned on the faucet. He was about to put in under the water when he got a different idea. He looked you right in the eyes as he took your finger into his mouth and sucked the blood off of it. You watched him as he did this and gulped a little.

“Peter?” You asked in a soft voice. A hope sparked in Peter’s chest that he had successfully made a move.

“Yes?”

“Do you have any idea how many germs you just put in my open wound?” You said, making all Peters hope disappear.

“Oh. Sorry.” He shook his head in embarrassment and held your finger under the running water.

“Why did you turn the water on and then suck it instead?” You asked him. Peter thought about lying, but knew it was no use.

“I…I thought it would be sexy.” He admitted.

“You thought sucking my paper cut would be sexy? Okay, Edward.” You snorted as you got a bandaid out of the cabinet for yourself.

“Edward? Who’s that?” Peter felt a hot flash of jealousy over the mention of another boys name. He normally wouldn’t have that reaction, but he was extra sensitive after what Steve said about you finding someone else.

“The vampire from Twilight. Relax.” You laughed in surprise.

“Oh. Right.” He smiled in embarrassment.

“Peter Parker. Were you jealous at the mere drop of another boys name?” You playfully gasped.

“Is that bad?” Peter asked as he helped put a bandaid on your finger.

“I don’t think it’s bad.” You shrugged. “I think it’s kinda hot that you’re the jealous type. As long as you don’t get all possessive on me.”

“I won’t. I’ve seen enough white women with “love her but leave her wild” tattooed on them to know better.” Peter replied, making you laugh.

“Well that’s good to hear. And for what it’s worth, you’ve proven to be a lovely boyfriend so far. I’ve really enjoyed these past few months.”

“So have I.” Peter smiled softly. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss to let him know all was forgiven.

“So why were you trying to be sexy before?” You asked once you pulled away.

“I don’t know. I was just trying to make a move.” He sheepishly admitted.

“Make a move? Why would you need to do that?” You laughed. Peter could barely conceal the disappointment that he felt from your response. It seemed like the number one thing on his mind right now was the last thing on yours.

“Oh. I don’t know.” He faked a smile. You took his face in your hands and made him look at you.

“Petey, if you want me, just take me.” You said like it was obvious.

So he took you.

Peter wrapped an arm around your waist and lifted you with ease as he kissed you. You anchored your arms around his neck so that you wouldn’t slide off as he carried you to his room. Peter laid you down on his bed without ever breaking the kiss. Both of you could feel the electricity in the air and knew something big was about to happen. But before you could get too far, the door opened.

“Hey guys - stop screaming, it’s me.” Sam held up a hand when he was met with screams from you and Peter.

“We know it’s you. What do you want?” Peter groaned.

“Nothing. I’m just bored.” Sam shrugged and took a bite of his sandwich in his hand. You and Peter stared at him in disbelief of his inability to read a room while he noisily chewed his food.

“So what are you guys up to?” He asked and pointed between the two of you.

“Take a wild guess.” You said sarcastically.

“I would tell you what I think is happening.” Thor chuckled. “But I know that’s not the case since you two don’t-“

“Sam.” Peter cut him off.

“Did I say too much? Sorry. I’ll leave you alone.” Sam winked at Peter before leaving the room. The silence between you was uncomfortable as you struggled to know what to say.

“What was he about to say?” You asked an after a minute.

“I have no idea.” Peter lied. You looked at him and he knew he was caught.

“Don’t lie to me. Was he gonna say we don’t hook up?”

“Yeah. He was.” He admitted.

“You told him that?” You asked and got off his bed to put some distance between you.

“No. I would never.” He assured you. “It came up on the plane the other day. They were teasing me about you and it just kinda came out that we haven’t…you know.”

“Oh. Okay.” You nodded but didn’t seem fully convinced.

“I’m sorry. I know you like to be private.”

“It’s not your fault. I just worried that you had been complaining to them that we don’t…” You trailed off and Peter realized why you were upset.

“Honey. Never.” He assured you as he took your hand and gave it a squeeze. This seemed to ease your mind and you sat back down on his bed.

“Okay. Good.” You smiled in relief. Peter avoided looking at you as he rubbed his thumb over your knuckles.

“Does it bother you? That we haven’t done it yet?” He asked as a deep blush spread across his face.

“Well,-“ You began.

“Do you guys know the Hulu password?” Sam asked as he opened Peters door again.

“Get out!” Peter shouted and threw a pillow at him.

“I’m trying to watch Bridesmaids. Please.” Sam whined. “I’m desperate. They just added it back on there.”

“Oh my God.“ Peter groaned and rubbed his eyes, knowing the moment had lost.

“Go ask my dad or something.” You huffed.

“You guys suck. Not you, Y/n. Clearly.” Sam laughed at his own joke and left the room again. A awkward silence filled the room again and Peter felt like the worst person in the world. He knew it bothered you that he had told the team something personal and even worse, he could feel your disappointment in him.

“I’m gonna go.” You said to break the silence. You got off the bed and Peter felt you quickly slipping out of his hands.

“Wait! Don’t leave.” He pleaded.

“I have to go move my car.” You said hastily.

“Can we please talk about this?”

“I have to go move my car!” You exclaimed and swiftly left the room.

“I know you don’t have to do that!” He called after you. “We’ve watched New Girl together. I know you got that from Nick Miller.”

Peter let out a frustrated sigh and flopped on his bed. He wasn’t alone for long before Pepper and Thor knocked on his door.

“Hey, kiddo.” Pepper said kindly.

“Woah. Weird combo. Have you two ever interacted before?” Peter asked and pointed between the two of them. They looked at each other and shook their heads.

“No.” They said in unison.

“So what were you doing outside my door?”

“Not that we were listening to your entire conversation, but we were. And you guys need to talk about this.” Pepper said as she sat on Peters bed.

“We tried.” Peter sighed. “Sam kept interrupting.”

“But even before he interrupted, you weren’t really getting anywhere, were you?” Pepper asked kindly.

“What do you mean?”

“Neither of you could even say the word “sex”. How do you expect to do it if you can’t even say it?”

“I don’t know. I never thought about that.” Peter realized.

“You need to have a mature conversation with her about this. That’s the only way to know how she’s feeling and to let her know what you’re feeling.” Pepper said and patted Peters knee.

“Okay. I guess you’re right.”

“Or.” Thor began, getting Peter’s attention.

“Or? There’s another option?” Peter perked up.

“Yes. Here’s what you do. You seduce her. No words, only passion.”

“I’m listening.” Peter leaned in.

“You spray yourself with a sexy body spray. You put some sexy sheets on your bed. You lure her to your bedroom. You play a sexy song. You dim the lights because bad lighting is sexy. You light some sexy candles. You make the setting so irresistible that you won’t need words. She’ll know exactly what’s about to happen.” Thor told him.

“I think that’s a solid plan.” Peter nodded along.

“That’s a horrible plan.” Pepper exclaimed. “That is the dumbest plan I have ever heard. You clearly need to talk to her.”

“How sexy of a song are we talking here?” Peter ignored her.

“The sexiest. But don’t confuse that with raunchy. She’s not gonna get in the mood if she walks in to some degrading song. You need to pick the perfect playlist that does all the talking for you.” Thor told him.

“Or, you could do the talking for you.” Pepper suggested.

“No. I’m gonna go with Thors idea.” Peter decided.

“Huzzah!” Thor raised his arms in triumph.

“Huzzah? How come sometimes you soudn completly normal and sometimes you sound like a World of Warcraft character?” Peter asked him.

“I’m not familiar with this World of Warcraft. But if I had fought in it, I would’ve won.” Thor smiled proudly.

“Thanks for the advice guys. I know what im gonna do.”

The next day, the plan was in action. Peter found some red silk sheets from a box in Tony’s room labeled “my bachelor era” and put them on his bed. He doused himself with a cologne he borrowed from Bruce before taking off his shirt and rubbing baby oil all over his chest, leaving him in just his black boxers. He looked at himself in the mirror and flexed his muscles.

“Perfect.” He decided. Now it was time to lure you in, just like Thor told him.

“FRIDAY, play Careless Whisper. George Michael.” Peter requested.

“Playing Careless Whisper.” FRIDAY said and the song began to blast from the speakers.

“Thank you. Now dim the lights.”

“Dimming, sir.” FRIDAY complied.

“Time to lure.” Peter smiled wickedly. He pulled out his phone and tried to text you but his fingers were too slippery from the baby oil.

“Damn it. FRIDAY, text Y/n stark and tell her to meet me in my room. And say it’s urgent.”

“Texting Tony and Y/n Stark.” FRIDAY, replied, but the music was too loud for Peter to hear it.

“The trap is set. Now we wait.” Peter excitedly rubbed his hands together and turned around. It wasn’t long before he heard his door opening behind him.

“Peter? Are you in here?” He heard your voice and slowly turned around.

“Well hello - TONY?! I mean, Mr. Stark? What, uh, what are you doing here?” Peter laugh nervously and covered his crotch with his hands. You looked at his piled up body and boxers and slapped both hands over your mouth to stifle your laugh. Once you realized what song was playing, you had to turn around so your dad didn’t see you losing it.

“What am I doing here? What are you doing here? Are you covered in sunblock?” Tony asked him.

“No. It’s baby oil.” Peter sheepishly admitted.

“Was that supposed to make this less weird?” Tony asked out of the corner of his mouth.

“Why is he here?” Peter whined and looked at you.

“You texted both of us and said it was urgent. I thought you fell im the shower again.” You explained as you struggled to make eye contact because of how distracting his shiny abs were.

“Again? Peter, can’t you stick to walls? How did you fall in the shower?” Tony wondered.

“I slipped, okay? I’m only human. And a little bit spider.” Peter mumbled.

“Wait a second.” Tony held up a finger when he took in his surroundings.

“Sexy music.” Tony gasped and pointed to the speaker.

“Candles.” He gasped louder and pointed to the candles.

“Baby oil.” He gasped even louder and pointed to Peter. He then walked over to Peter’s dresser and let out the loudest gasp of all.

“Pack of extra small condoms?” He gasped and put his hand over his heart. He then looked at Peter with the rage of a thousand men. Peter looked at you, who looked like a mixture of surprise, embarrassment, and fondness.

“Um, it’s not what it looks like?” Peter said weakly. Tony threw the box of condoms at him and it stuck to Peters oiled chest.

“I knew it! You derelict. You ne’re-do-well. You scallawag. You were gonna try to sex my daughter, weren’t you?”

“Can that word be used in that way?” You wondered out loud.

“No. It’s not a verb. Your form was incorrect.” Peter told Tony, immediately regretting it.

“How’s this for form?” Tony asked and raised both his fists as if he was about to mollywhop Peter. You quickly stepped between them and held up a hand.

“Dad. Stop. You’re not gonna fight Peter. You’re obviously misreading things. There’s no way he brought me in here for that. Right, Peter?”

“Uhhh….” Peter trailed off and smiled weakly. Your jaw dropped for a second, but then you looked really pleased. Tony saw the look on your face and let out a loud, elongated groan.

“Goodbye. If you’ll excuse me, I have to go rinse my eyes out with drain cleaner.” Tony stared at you both in disgust as he walked out.

“Dad. You’re embarrassing me.” You whined.

“FRIDAY, add baby oil to the shopping list. Somebody used it all.” Tony called out as he left the room.

Once you were alone, you and Peter looked at each other and laughed in embarrassment.

“Did you really do all this for me?” You asked and rubbed his oiled up shoulder.

“I did. And it was incredibly stupid. I’m sorry.”

“Why did you do it then?”

“Because I wanted our first time to be special. You deserve special.” Peter sighed. You pouted and wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him closer.

“Aw, Peter.”

“I know. It was dumb.” He sighed.

“It wasn’t dumb. I think it was really sweet.” You assured him. “Just executed in a kind of terrifying way. The song is so loud that it’s rattling my bones and you look like uncooked chicken.”

“Yeah. This was Thors idea.” Peter laughed in embarrassment and looked down at his shiny body.

“Well it’s not the worst sight in the world.” You shrugged and ran your fingertips down his chest. Peter gulped and looked at you, feeling that electricity return.

“FRIDAY, stop playing the song.” You called out without ever taking your eyes off Peter. He got the hint and shot a web at the door to shut it before going to blow out the candles.

“Wait.” You held out your hand, stopping Peter.

“Leave the candles.” You told him.

“Okay. But why?”

“Well, it’s our first time, isn’t it?” You smiled coyly. “It should be special.”

Peter liked where your head was at but couldn’t go through with it without telling you the whole truth.

“They’re M&M scented candles that I stole from Morgans playroom.” He admitted. You stared at him for a long time before nodding your head.

“Peter?”

“Yeah?”

“Stop talking before I change my mind, okay?”

“Okay.” He nodded excitedly and pulled you into a kiss. You kissed him back and felt the same electricity that was coursing through his veins. Peter laid you down on his bed without breaking the kiss and you felt the red silk sheets he had put on under your skin.

“These sheets are a nice touch.” You flirted in between kisses.

“Only the best for you, baby. I took them from your dad.”

With the mention of your father, you immediately pushed Peter off and felt your entire body cringe. He had once again successfully ruined the moment.

“That’s it. I’m done.” You held uo your hands in defeat and left his room.

“Wait!” Peter called after you. “I cleaned them! I swear!”

Tag List 🏷️

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@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101

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@thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @heyheycharlatte @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie

@maybemona @alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom @xo-spidey

[ellecdc]

A Man With a Plan.5

prologue // p1 // p2 // p3 // p4 // p5 // p6 // p7 // p8

Remus Lupin x whimsical!reader - Hogwarts Era (no Voldemort) - Soulmate AU

CW: swearing, self-deprecating thoughts, James losing his ever-loving mind.

“Okay. Start again, from the beginning.” Remus heard James say as he made his way back down to the common room with the Marauder’s Map held fast in his iron grip.

Regulus sighed something that sounded a lot like for Salazar’s sake, Potter as he looked at the ceiling of the Gryffindor common room for patience; jury’s still out on whether he found any or not.

“She was supposed to meet me in the library after the game to study.” He muttered plainly.

“Right.” James said as he paced near the fire, arms crossed and one hand up near his mouth as he chewed on his cuticles. 

“She never showed at the library, but I didn’t think anything of it as she often gets-”

“Distracted, right.” James agreed readily.

Regulus had lowered his head and was now looking at the floor. “I still had her books though, so I went to bring them to her dorm, or at least drop them off for her. Her roommate-”

“Which one?” James interrupted.

“What?”

“Which roommate?”

Regulus scoffed and levelled James with an incredulous glare. “I don’t know, Potter. Why would I know her roommates? The lot of them are tosser’s anyway.”

“Did Reggie just refer to someone as a tosser?” Sirius stage whispered to Remus. 

“Was it Mary-Ella?” 

“I don’t know who that is, Potter.”

“Did she have glasses?” James tried again.

“No.”

“The red head?”

“No.”

“Okay so it was Jill, then; the blonde.”

“Fine. Yes, Jill,” Regulus started, obviously antsy to get this conversation over with. “Said she had packed a small bag and said, and I quote,” he emphasized, obviously already having gone over this with James, “it’s better that she stays away from the castle for the weekend.”

James had since stopped his pacing and stood in front of the fire as he pieced the facts together.

“Okay...” he started as he looked to Regulus again. “One more time.”

“Potter!” Regulus shouted at the same time Sirius whined “Prongs!”

“This is awful. This is just awful.” James said as he resumed his pacing.

“Okay, well, relax Potter. She’s more clever than people give her credit for – I’m sure she’s fine.” Regulus said as he rubbed his temples.

“I know she’s more clever than people give her credit for.”

“Then why are you so wound up?” Sirius asked. Big mistake.

“Because, if she’s not here, who will stop the nargles, Sirius!?” James shrilled. 

“What the fuck is a nargle!?” Sirius shouted back.

“I don’t know! All I know is that Y/N’s not here, and now the nargles are going to steal my stuff!”

Remus was fully convinced that dogs two counties over could hear James at this point.

“Guys? Has anyone seen my shoes?” Peter interjected as he stood from his spot on the carpet where Sirius had abandoned their card game. “I swear they were just here.”

“Oh gods, it’s starting.” James cried miserably.

“Oh relax, Potter. The nargles aren’t interested in smelly running shoes.” Regulus added with derision. “They’d much prefer a nice wizarding pair of dragonhide boots.”

Suddenly, realization seemed to dawn on Regulus’ face as he turned quickly and exited the Gryffindor common room.

“Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods, oh gods.” James muttered as he resumed his pacing.

“Alright, are you going to tell him? Or should I?” Sirius said as he turned his sights to Remus.

“Tell me what?” James said immediately, looking between his two friends.

Remus’ face was pale and clammy while Moony was screaming in his mind at the thought of you being gone, not being safe, being hurt, hiding.

“Tell me what?!” James asked again.

Remus just shook his head.

“Remus.” Sirius warned.

“What did you do? What did you say to her?” James accused, immediately on the offensive as he stalked towards him. Lily stood swiftly to block James’ path.

“I...I can’t...I-she’s,” Remus stuttered miserably.

“Oh, for Godric’s sake.” Sirius muttered as he stalked up to his dorm room. He returned swiftly with the book Hairy Snout, Human Heart and tossed it to James who caught it easily. 

“She is his soulmate.” He said simply.

“SOULMATE!?” Lily, Peter, and James all guffawed in unison.

“I thought that was just a myth.” Peter muttered as he took the book from James’ hand and began flipping through it.

“Apparently not.” Sirius muttered as he ran a hand through his hair. “It’s had this guy wound up for weeks.”

“Holy shit.” Peter muttered as he held the book out for James and Lily to see as well. “It’s true. It’s here.” 

“How do you know it’s her?” Lily asked Remus.

He snorted and shook his head as Moony shouted MINE.

“Just a hunch.” He muttered miserably.

“Is this why you’ve been so upset, recently?” Peter asked quietly. James scoffed and shook his head angrily.

“So upset... to have such an odd girl as your soulmate, Moony?” James spat furiously.

Remus felt the colour drain from his face as Moony started arguing angrily in his head. IS MINE. IS MINE. MINE, GOOD. MINE, GOOD. 

James scoffed and threw the book onto the table. “You know, out of everyone, Remus, I thought at least you’d be more understanding. That perhaps maybe you would know what it’s like to be different from everyone else – treated differently than your peers.”

James looked down his nose at his friend as he began to stalk out of the room. “Turns out you’re just as bad as the rest of them.”

Remus felt a tear fall as he turned back to regard his friends.

“Sirius.” He whispered miserably.

“I know, Moons. I know that’s not why; I’ll talk to him - but I don’t blame him for being angry.” Sirius offered solemnly before he followed James up the stairs.

“You know...it makes a lot of sense.” Peter mused aloud.

Lily and Remus turned to face him with matching expressions of bemusement. 

“A witch who believes in nargles ought to believe in soulmates. She’s probably the perfect person for you.” He said simply with a shrug.

Mine. Miss. Missing. Where? Mine. Moony whimpered.

James was officially missing one half of two pairs of socks, his watch, his school tie, and his new quill set that his mom had sent him.

Oh, and also his sanity if you asked Sirius. 

Sirius was starting to feel like he was losing his sanity too, between Remus’ brooding over your ‘disappearance’ (which sounded so dramatic considering you told people you were leaving and that you’d be back after the weekend), James’ (and admittedly, Regulus’) fussing over nargles, auras, and something other entity Sirius has never heard of, and Peter’s complete lack of help with any of the above. 

“All this over a bird.” He muttered to himself as he handed James one of his extra ties.

“Moony, up. We’re going to breakfast.” He barked over his shoulder. Remus just shook his head.

“Get up.” He demanded. 

“M’not hungry.” Remus muttered petulantly.

“Don’t care, Moons – we’re going to breakfast.” 

“Leave me alone.”

“Oh, for fucking fuck!” Sirius said as he stomped his feet. “Lupin, I swear to fuck if you do not get your arse down to the Great Hall right now and eat - because I know you won’t eat later and then you’ll have the moon tonight and then you won’t eat tomorrow morning which will have meant you haven’t eaten in over 24-hours – I will find your bird and bed her myself.”

Sirius felt ridiculous for a) his temper tantrum and b) threatening to steal his best mate’s girl – but it appeared to have its desired effect when Remus stood abruptly from what Sirius had officially dubbed the brooding chair with a growl and stalked out the dormitory door, shouldering Sirius as he went. 

It was going to be a long day.

Unfortunately for Sirius, it was an even longer night. 

James and Remus still weren’t speaking as the four of them made their way to the Shrieking Shack for Moony’s transformation. Peter, the poor sod, kept trying to make conversation, though it was all in vain as Remus was still too broody to engage and James just offered the occasional grunt of acknowledgement. 

And unfortunately, Moony wasn’t in better spirits.

After Remus’ transformation, Sirius – now Padfoot – had the unenviable task of watching a Werewolf in mourning.

The Wolf spent most of the night making pathetically sorrowful howls at the moon, and when he wasn’t crying, he was trying to gnaw angrily on his ankles. When Padfoot tried to get him to stop, or encourage a playful romp, Moony snapped at him.

Padfoot huffed to say “fine, you sod”, but his whimper as he laid on the opposite end of the room betrayed his haughtiness – Padfoot’s heart was breaking.

It was breaking for his Moony – his pack – and it also broke for Remus. Remus, who finally had a shot at something wonderful but let it slip through his fingers because he was too full of self-loathing to accept an opportunity. Remus, who deserves love and compassion, because lord knows he doesn’t give enough of it to himself. Remus, who found probably the most openminded and understanding person in the world. Remus...who found his soulmate. 

His soulmate.

Moony found his happy ending.

And Padfoot was not going to let him lose it.

Remus blinked against the harsh brightness of the infirmary the following morning – his body aching in ways it hadn’t since before the boys started joining him for the full moons. As he stretched, the bandages that pulled at his wrists and ankles explained why.

Moony had been angry. And he’d taken it out on Remus.

Remus couldn’t blame him. All of the floundering, grasping at ridiculous straws, the planning he’d been doing all week. For what?

To use a poor girl for sex and distractions? To cheat Moony, and himself, from what he really wanted? To fight and argue with his friends, his pack? To have you take off for two nights?

He hated himself.

He hated himself, he hated himself, he hated himself.

And Moony hated him too.

Remus groaned as he pushed himself up in a sitting position.

“Feeling better?” James muttered as he fluffed Remus’ pillow for him. His face and tone remained angry despite his kind gesture.

“No, not really...” Remus admitted.

“Me neither.” 

“James, I’m sorry.” Remus sighed as he settled back into his pillow. “I swear I...it’s not her, I-”

“It’s not you, it’s me. Really, Moony?” James sneered.

“Yes, Prongs. You know this.” Remus stressed. 

“Uhm, no. What I know, Moony, is that you are a wonderful, caring friend who loves his people so strongly, and has more love to give, and certainly deserves more love than he allows himself. That’s what I know.

“I also know that I have a very wonderful, lovely, caring friend who deserves the same amount of love she gives to everyone else, and you wouldn’t even give her a chance!”

“James. I know.”

“And anoth- what?” James stopped in his tirade. 

“I know.” Remus repeated as his eyes welled with tears. “I tried to fight it because I didn’t want to drag anyone else into my mess; I didn’t want anyone else to feel responsible for me. I’ve already damned my mum and dad, I’ve already dragged you three into this – I couldn’t do it again. I thought I was strong enough to ignore it, but I can’t.”

“Rem, you didn’t damn your parents. That’s what happens when you have a kid; the kids’ job is to be who they are, and the parent’s job is to love them regardless. And we chose to help you through this Rem – and it was the right thing to do!” James cried as he lifted his hands in the air.

“I just don’t want you guys to regret it one day or decide I’m too much. Then what would I do?” Remus admitted quietly.

“Oh, for- You know what, Lupin? Only way you’re getting rid of me is through death. Got it?” James said with all the sternness he could muster.

Remus huffed a laugh and nodded. “Okay Prongs.”

James deflated and offered a curt nod. “Good. ‘Cause I need your help finding Y/N. I cannot risk losing another one of my quills – my mom is going to kill me.”

Padfoot felt like he may have scrapes on his nose from how long he’s been out here following your scent. But he knew it would be worth it when he found you and got you back to Moony.

His ears perked up when he heard movement, but he swiftly hid behind a large oak tree when some Centaurs stepped onto the path.

“Now, if you continue West from here, you should find the rest of your path to Hogwarts unhindered. Stepping off the path brings the chance of new adventures and grave danger.” A centaur proclaimed.

“Thank you very much, Firenze. Best of luck on your search for the Snidgets.” An airy voice called back. 

Padfoot knew that voice! That was Moony’s soulmate! Padfoot tried to hide his excitement (i.e., he tried to stop his tail from wagging) until the centaurs all left.

Suddenly, Padfoot shifted and bolted out from behind the tree to stand in front of you.

“Y/N!” He shouted as he grabbed your upper arms in his hands, scanning you from head-to-toe for any signs of injury. 

You seemed surprised by his appearance, but not startled. Sirius figured you probably should have been startled – it was a pretty startling thing for him to do.

You had no injuries, but a few branches and leaves were caught in your hair and on various parts of your body. You were also not wearing shoes.

“Well, hello Sirius. It’s very nice to see you.” You said plainly.

“Nice to see me? Are you- where are your shoes?” He decided to settle on first. Not the most important question – but it took priority in Sirius’ mind.

You looked down at your feet like you weren’t fully aware they were bare. “You know, I’m not quite sure. Not to worry, though; I’m sure they’ll turn up. Lost things often have ways of finding their way back to us, if not always in the way we expect.”

Sirius had no idea how to respond to that – so he didn’t. “Do you have any idea how worried everyone has been?” He sputtered at you.

Your eyebrows furrowed at that, and you almost seemed upset as you responded, “Oh dear, I didn’t mean to concern anyone.”

Sirius immediately regretted saying anything; now he could see why James was so sweet on you.

“Well, let’s go to the castle and tell them all that, then.” He acquiesced as he hooked your arm in his and began the path back to Hogwarts. You did not seem concerned nor feel the need to object to his manhandling you. But Sirius knew he would not be letting go of you until you were back in the castle – maybe not even then. He was not going to deal with Remus, James, and Regulus like this again.

“Regulus was perhaps most concerned.” He lied, knowing very well he was far from the most dramatic through all of this. “Very worried about the nargles in your absence.”

You hummed in acknowledgement. “As he should; they’d be quite interested in his dragonhide boots.”

“You don’t say.” Sirius murmured, unadmittedly becoming increasingly concerned with the state of his beloved Doc Marten’s stowed in his school trunk.

“Better hurry then.” He said as he all but dragged you up towards the castle. 

Remus tried not to get too caught up on the fact that he was sitting in the infirmary with James and Regulus Black of all people as they scanned the Marauder’s map for any sign of you. He also pretended he didn’t notice the fact that Regulus was holding a duffle bag that appeared to have everything he owned jammed inside it.

“She said she’d only need to stay away from the castle for the weekend, right?” James asked as he continued to scan the parchment.

Regulus rolled his eyes. “Yes, Potter. Like I said.”

“Okay, I can’t look at this anymore – I’m going cross-eyed.” James moaned as he leaned away from the map and rubbed his eyes from behind his glasses.

Remus felt awfully guilty. He didn’t know how you would know - though he wouldn’t put it past you at this point - but he didn’t think it was a coincidence that you left for the full moon. He doesn’t think he’d ever forgive himself if something happened to you because of it.

“Oh, thank Godric.” James finally breathed as he stood from his chair.

“Godric had nothing to do with it, Prongsie.” Sirius called out as he waltzed into the infirmary – your arm in his. 

James all but shoved Sirius aside as he enveloped you in his arms. “Where have you been!?” 

You smiled sweetly – that damned dimple making an appearance to taunt Remus – and patted your friends back.

“Oh, I wasn’t far Jamie.”

Sirius let out a pfft from where he was now leaning against the wall at the end of Remus’ bed. “Not far she says. I found her with a herd of centaurs.”

“CENTAURS.” The three other boys shouted, earning them a dramatic shushing from the matron.

“Y/N, centaurs are very hostile towards wizard-kind.” Regulus spoke severely, albeit more quietly for Madame Pomfrey's benefit. 

“I don’t agree.” You said simply as you turned to look at Remus. “Are you feeling much better?” You asked him.

Your voice was so tranquil compared to the conversation with the boys, and even with Madame Pomfrey – Remus was sure if he was hooked up to a muggle heart monitor, his blood pressure would be dropping just from listening to you speak.

Keep smiling at him like that, though, and it might pick right back up.

“I am, Y/N. Thank you.”

You sighed in relief as you sat on the edge of the foot of Remus’ bed. “Oh good. I figured it’d be easier if I was gone.” 

Sirius and James’ necks looked like they might have snapped as they turned to look at you. The room fell painfully quiet as Sirius, James, and Remus all looked at each other and then to Regulus. 

Regulus seemed to understand his intrusion. “Uhm, right. Well, Y/N L/N, you are to never take off like that again without informing me. Got it?” He said severely. Remus is sure most people would have cowered, but you smiled sweetly and brushed his cheek.

"Okay, Reg."

Regulus offered you a curt nod and left the infirmary. Remus supposed that was likely as loving as Regulus Black could ever get. 

“What would have been easier if you were gone, Y/N?” James asked quietly.

“Well, the moon, of course.” You responded.

That muggle heart rate monitor? It’d be showing no signal at this point.

“I’m terribly sorry if your bond to me is causing you problems, Remus.” You offered solemnly. Remus thought this might be the most emotion he’d ever seen from you.

“It’s...it’s not your fault.” Remus croaked.

“Y/N, how much do you know?” Sirius asked.

You considered Sirius for a moment before responding. “About what?”

Sirius looked between the you and Remus before arching his brow at the latter. Remus grimaced and leaned forward to tap his finger against your hand that was closest to him to bring your attention to him.

“How much do you know about me?”

 “Well, I know your name is Remus Lupin. You’re from a town outside of Cardiff. You’re a Pisces, a Gryffindor, a werewolf, and a prefect. And you have a magical connection to me, it seems.” You said all too simply, head tilted as you searched his face for something.

Remus’ mind was reeling; it was reeling that you apparently knew he was a werewolf, and it was reeling at the fact that in a list of things you knew about him, that fact fell between him being a Gryffindor and a prefect and was not as important to you as his birth sign. 

“What’s his name?” You asked suddenly.

Remus shook his head as if to wake himself up. “I’m sorry?”

“The Wolf; what’s his name?”

Remus looked to Sirius who was staring at you with a terrified sort of awe, and then to James who looked both proud and smug that you’d figured it out.

“It’s Moony.” Remus whispered.

You smiled greatly at that. “A wonderful name.”

Sirius smirked at that – clearly chuffed his hard work was appreciated. 

“It’s fitting too – should have seen him mooning over you this weekend – this month even!” James said.

Remus threw a chocolate wrapper at him from his bedside table.

“I’m sure it’s difficult, feeling tied to someone so odd.” You offered quietly, and any friendly banter drained from the boys immediately.

“Y/N, that’s-” James started, but Remus interrupted.

“I’m so sorry to have made you believe that Y/N, but it’s just not true.” He said emphatically.

You tilted your head at him in intrigue. “No?”

He shook his head. “No. I was trying to keep you away from...Moony, from my infliction.” He admitted shamefully.

“Hm. Well, that didn’t work very well.” You said plainly, causing Sirius to bark a laugh.

“Most of his plans don’t, dollface.” He said through a chuckle.

“Oh, plans aren’t always a bad thing: it’s good to be prepared. But it’s important to plan to be spontaneous as well.”

“Plan to be spontaneous?” James asked incredulously.

“Oh yes,” you said severely. “I get my best work done that way.”

James seemed to consider this as Sirius sighed. “Yes, and, if you plan too much, auror’s throw around words like premeditated.”

You nodded in comradery. “Very true, Sirius.” 

Continue to chapter six here.

Taglist: @hanniejji, @y0urm0m12, @c0nsc10usworld, @aphrcdites, @starsval, @thepunisherfrankcastle, @anuncalledbridge, @unstablereader, @rai-strangebr, @klazina-couch-potato, @cancelledkaley, @fandom-crashlanding, @ttulipwritezz, @boo8008, @daisiesformylove, @frostooo, @myriadmoons, @aremuslupinsimp, @simars3, @stargurl99, @dreamingofts18, @iwannabeinthesequalmrghostface, @agent-tempest, @xxrougefangxx, @serenadingtigers, @adhxmoony, @spokenfolk, @hufflepufffangirlqueen, @thebiggestnaturaldisaster, @urmomw4ntsme, @b4tm4nn, @jamieolivia27, @stqrgirlies-blog, @loving-and-dreaming

[erinwantstowrite]

HELP??? PETER BLOWING UP HIS GRANDPA????

peter: hai pop pop :3

bruce: you blew us up

peter: oh yeah, my bad b, but maybe you shouldda moved out the way

bruce:???? you took out a whole block????

dink: dont get mad at my little boy! hes just a baby

peter: yea im just a baby >:3

HAHAHAAHAAAAAA THIS IS SO FUNNY 😭 it's more like:

bruce: you are too young an inexperienced. is catwoman even teaching you how to defend yourself properly? you are wearing absolutely nothing that can protect your-

peter, not paying attention and doing smth in front of them: uh huh

damian: father

bruce still lecturing: -vital organs. you need someone to have your back if you insist on continuing on as a vigilante. you're clever but you're going to get yourself killed-

damian: father

bruce: are you even listening to me, young man?

peter, holding up his hand to show what he's made: i have a bomb :)

[widowbitessting]

The Devil is What You Drink - A Sugar Mommies Drabble

Word Count: 2110

Rating: General with fluffy scenes. SFW!

Dom!Natasha Romanoff, Dom!Wanda Maximoff, Dom!Carol Danvers x Sub!Reader

In retrospect, ringing one of your doms when you’re extremely tipsy and walking home alone at 1am, really isn't the best idea. 

But with the wine running through your system, it really doesn’t bother you. 

Natasha picks up after the first ring, voice heavy with sleep and it makes you grin broadly; almost jumping up and down on the spot with excitement. 

“Hi, Natty!” 

“...baby, hi.” She inhales deeply and you can picture her rubbing her eyes. “What time is it? Where are you?” 

“Oh, y’know me and MJ had that friendaversary didn’t we! Five whole years, Natty, can you believe it? How I haven’t killed her yet, I don’t know.” 

“Breathe, love.” 

“So I got home from class and MJ really wanted to go out for a drink and I was like, sure why not! So we went to that cute bar I took you one time - I got that cute flower in my drink, remember it, Natty?” 

“Yes, baby, I remember.” 

“So we went there and we wanted to be fancy again and got wine. Now I know, I know, wine is evil but it tastes so good so it can’t be that bad, eh? So we had like…two…maybe three bottles and just talked about all the stuff we’ve done together, cos’ like, five years is super long, isn’t it, Natty?”

“Yes, baby.”

“And then -” You boot a stray beer can with your foot and send it soaring into a nearby wall. It’s loud, especially in the quiet area you’re in and it immediately catches Natasha’s attention. 

“Baby…I haven’t heard MJ speak the entire time you’ve been on the phone to me…normally she pipes up…where is she, darling?” 

“Well she got picked up by Peter about fifteen minutes ago and the bar isn’t too far from home! So I thought I’d go on an adventure and - ” 

“Stop.” A deep, low voice, commands. 

The order comes so suddenly that it catches you off guard. You cease all words and movements as your inner submissive drops to her knees.  

“So you’re on your own?” Natasha asks. 

“...maybe…I just thought the fresh air would do me good..walk off the alcohol. Clever right?” 

“Y/N, you tell me right now if you are on your own walking through the dark. It’s 2am!”

After hearing your full name you can’t help but bite back a little with sarcasm.

“Well yeah, I - I have to get home somehow duh. I can’t afford a taxi and it’s only around the corner.” 

You hear Natasha rummaging around through the phone as you twirl a loose strand of hair around your finger. 

“Look around, tell me where you are.” 

You do as you’re told. 

“Hmmm…well I see black ‘cos it’s dark…”

“Y/N.”

“Again with the name, gah! Erm, I dunno, I took the shortcut and -”

“You have to the count of fucking five to get to the nearest streetlight, I swear to God.” 

“But it’s all the way over there!” 

“5.”

“I can make it there before you get to two!” 

You take off sprinting, giggling gleefully as you go, one hand pinning your cell to your ear as your other arm sticks out to keep your balance.

Only, it’s you. In heels. In the dark. 

You take the grand total of seven steps before you go crashing down, ankle bending at a near 90 degree angle as gravity takes you to the cement. You scrape your knees and your palm, squeaking upon impact.

“Detka, did you just fall?” 

“Mhm, running in heels is not the way to go. Ouch.” 

You’re lucky there’s no glass.

“Get up for me, can you do that? Are you okay?” When you reply, she continues, “now walk slower to the streetlight. And please don’t fall over any more twigs as you go.”

“That was one time!” 

“One time too many.” 

Limping and grumbling as you go, you manage to get out of the alleyway without any more injuries and cross over to the streetlight. 

“Natty, there’s gum on it. Gross.” 

“Don’t eat it. Don’t touch it.”

You drop your hand. 

“Fiiiine.”

“Where are you now?”

“I dunno, outside?” 

An exasperated sigh reaches your ears. 

“Tell me exactly what you see, Y/N. Be specific.” 

A car door slams shut through the phone as you glance around.

“I see trees…houses…oh the moon! Woah, pretty.”

“If you’ve somehow managed to get to the moon, Y/N, I will lose my shit.” 

“If I take a picture will you see it? It’s so pretty! Carol loves the moon.” 

“Baby, what else do you see?” Natasha gently reminds you. 

“Erm…oh! Oh, a restaurant! Can we go Natty? It looks nice!” 

“What’s it called babygirl, gimme a name.” 

Natasha’s car roars to life. 

“Why don’t you just stalk me, hmm? Be quicker.” You let out a giggle. 

“Because then I’d have to hang up, so no.” Natasha is silent for a second, waiting for your giggles to calm down, knowing her reply just fell on cotton filled ears. “Are you finished?” 

“Maaaaybe.”

“Now,” she warns, “I want you to listen to me because you only have one last chance, Y/N. Give me the name of that fucking restaurant before I spank your ass into next week.” 

“M-Mama’s…” You squint at the flag. “Oh! I think it’s Jamaican, I love Jamaican food!”

“Mhm, I know you do. Do me a favour? Have a look at the menu? Pick something you'd think we’d all like.” 

“Really? Even something like curried goat?” You scurry to the lit up window, eyes taking a second to adjust to the bright lights coming from inside. “‘Cos I had that once and I thought there was a fruit loop in there but it wasn’t - there’s a cat! Hi cat!” 

“NO!” Natasha practically deafens you. “Y/N, do not follow that cat!” 

“But he’s so fluffy! He’s got a big tail, hi baby!” 

“Y/N, it’ll have fleas, no! Do not touch it, stay where you are!”

“But Hedwig -” 

“Isn’t Hedwig from Harry Potter?” 

You stop walking, ashamed that those words even came from her mouth. 

“I let you fuck me with that mouth. Yes! It’s Hedwig! Harry Potter’s owl!” 

“Do you want to watch it when we’re home?” 

“Yes! Yes! Yes! Can we really?”

“Only if you choose something really yummy from that restaurant then, baby girl. C’mon, Harry Potter is on the line here.” 

“But -” 

“Say bye to Hedwig.”

“...bye Hedwig.” Your voice is tiny and it breaks Natasha’s heart. “Safe travels! Drink milk and eat tuna!” 

“God, you’re so fucking cute, baby.” Natasha mumbles. You, of course, miss it, far too busy waving the black cat off. “Now pick us something to eat, we’re so hungry.”

“You got it, boss!” 

“Good girl, baby. You’re doing so well for me. What do you see?” 

You peer close to the menu, bumping your nose against the glass. 

“Hmmm…” You don’t even hear her as the car rolls up behind you. “I dunno yet but I might get served right away, Natty, it’s empty inside. How lucky is that?” 

“So lucky baby, who’d have thought a Jamaican restaurant would stay open until 2 in the morning.” 

“I know right? But I’m not sure what to get! Maybe I should ask someone.” 

“Y/N -” 

You ignore her and go to the door, pulling it with such a force that you don’t expect it to not open. Your grip slips and you stumble back.

“Wha - hey. Daddy the door is stuck!” You go back and try to push it this time, coming to no avail. “My food! Excuse me? I can’t get in!” 

“Y/N, tone your voice down, darling.” 

“No, the food! I can see it!” You actually have tears forming in your eyes. “I want my dumplings! No! Daddy, I need you. Help me open this stupid door!” 

“Daddy’s here, baby.” 

When Natasha’s hand gently takes you by the wrist, you look at her with a pout, unphased that she’s even there. 

“Dumplings, daddy. They’re there, see!” 

She doesn't even look away from you. 

“Yes, baby, I do. But you’re shivering. Let’s get you into the car, hmm? Get all warm before you eat dumplings.” 

“...make sure you tell them they need to fix their door…that’s so bad for service…” 

You all but sag into the redhead as she carries your exhausted body to the car. 

“You’re getting sleepy now, huh?”

“Mmm, so sleepy.” 

Natasha takes her sweatshirt off and before you can even protest, shoves it over your head, enveloping you in her scent. If you hadn’t been so tipsy, you might have clocked her sweatpant and sports bra combo sooner. Perhaps even have drooled. 

You’ve been in the car for five minutes when you finally realise. 

“Woah,” You can’t help but stare at her abs. “I could eat a six course meal off there.” 

“You’ve licked whipped cream off them before, detka.” 

“Yeah well - I - you’re just, damn.” You force yourself to blink. “Someone get me a glass…I’ve just found me a tall drink of water.” 

Natasha rolls her eyes.

“Smooth, darling, smooth. Hitting on me with Disney.” 

“Did it work?” 

“No. But A+ for effort.” 

“Dang it.” 

You pass out for a few minutes, after humming a song from Tangled to yourself. You’re warm. Cosy. Wrapped up in a Natasha scented burrito and it lulls you to sleep. Jerking only slightly when the car door opens and the cold wind hits your body. Natasha - because of course she is that strong - scoops you up effortlessly into her arms and easily moves you both to the elevator. Your neck drops back, a small snore escaping you. 

She has you. You’re officially asleep, safe and sound. Punishment already thought and saved ready for tomorrow. All she has to do is carefully place you on the bed, sneak out to get water and slide in next to you. 

Only, the second your head touches the pillow, your eyes fly open and Natasha’s soul almost leaps from her body.

“Jesus fuck!”

“Dumplings! Daddy, we left my dumplings!” 

Besides you, Wanda stirs. 

“No way, close your eyes and go back to sleep, Y/N. C’mon, You were snoring.”

You pout, tears once again forming in your eyes. 

“But - ” You hiccup. “They’re lonely! They saw me, they knew I was there to eat them and I left them there!” 

“Tomorrow, darling.” 

“No, now.” 

“I will get you all the dumplings in the world tomorrow, if you will just-go-to-sleep.”

You ponder, glossy eyes looking into Natasha’s stressed ones. 

“...that’s a whole lot of dumplings, daddy. Bit excessive actually.” 

“Detka, I swear to God -” 

“Deal!” You giggle. “God I love dumplings. Got a dumpling shaped hole in my tummy as we speak. Riiiight here.” You point to your stomach and Natasha has to stop herself from laughing. 

“Go to sleep and you will get them faster.” 

“...dumplings? What? What’s happening?”

It’s like you forgot Wanda was even there, reacting like a child of Christmas morning when you register she’s right next to you; auburn locks a wild mane around her head. 

“Hi!” 

Wanda’s scream of shock is muffled by your shoulder and you both end up rolling into Carol. 

Who isn’t impressed. At all. 

“Separate bedrooms, Romanoff. I told you.” She glares at the red head who has her face in her hands. “Why the fuck have I been woken up by Y/N talking about dumplings?” 

“She’s drunk.”

“Tipsy!”

“Oh I love tipsy, baby!” Wanda snuggles into you closer. “Hi tipsy baby.” 

“Hi none tipsy mommy!”

“I cannot - ” Carol jumps up out of the bed just in time to avoid being flattened by the two rolling bodies. “Nat, what?”

“It’s a long story.” 

“Tell me tomorrow. You’re on your own.” The blonde walks past Natasha and kisses her before vacating to the safety, and peaceful, spare room. “If you can’t control them, you know where I am. They’ll tire themselves out eventually.” 

“Or order enough dumplings to feed 5,000 people. Get off your phone, Wanda!” 

The other woman looks at her a little sheepishly. 

“But dumplings sound so good right now.” 

“Have fun babe!” Carol shouts. 

Natasha sighs, watching as you and Wanda roll around the bed excitedly. You’re part way through telling her about your adventure, far too sleep deprived to notice her dommy side appearing when you tell her you walked by yourself. It’s quickly squashed down when you mention Natasha’s brave and daring rescue and you mount her legs to stare into her eyes. 

“Dumplings, mommy. We need to get them.”

“We really do.”

With an over exaggerated eye roll, Natasha slams her head on the bedroom wall. 

“I give up.”

[aloysiavirgata]

Loved your Skinner POV. I am the ultimate sucker for a Margaret Scully POV. Do one? *doe eyes*

Cancer. How can it be cancer, how can Fox already have been at the hospital, how can they plot and whisper and conspire; how can Dana have cancer?

Margaret is so angry and so afraid. So, so angry.

Terrified.

She has the wild, insane thought that Dana is too beautiful to have cancer, as though Melissa hadn’t been too beautiful to be casually murdered.

Fox looming and lurking in hallways and corners and sunsets and pre-dawn stillness. Like a grim guardian angel, like the beautiful statue of Lucifer Bill once took her to see at Liège.

Margaret sees Fox kiss her daughter’s bright hair one night, kiss her daughter’s sad, smiling mouth.

She doesn’t know what she wants for them. She crosses herself and walks away.

***

She doesn’t understand the situation with Emily, not really. She listens to everything Dana says about induced hyperovulation and surrogates and she nodded, dutiful, because she can hear Dana’s throat so tight, trying not to cry.

Emily is very sick, Dana says. The courts have no precedence for this, Dana says. I want to help her, Mom.

If Emily is Dana’s, if she really is, then she’s Margaret’s granddaughter and Margaret, to her shame, doesn’t want her to be.

Fox stands in the corner of the room, staring out the window at nothing, his jaw hard as stone. He radiates a quiet steadiness and Margaret feels her strange, lovely daughter draw strength from it, like a solar panel on a bright day. Are there lunar panels? Mulder’s eyes are nothing like the sun.

He radiates a cold fury and Margaret almost has pity for the target of it.

“When I was abducted by Duane Barry,” Dana begins, her voice mostly steady. “Wherever he took me had some kind of program where-“

Fox slams his fist into the windowframe and Margaret jumps, gasps. “Fox!”

“Mulder…” Dana breathes, her eyes closed.

He stalks from the room like a panther. Like an assassin.

***

“I’m pregnant,” Dana says, a little blushing laugh. Her hand splays over her flat belly.

Margaret surges with such piercing love for this incomprehensible child she birthed. “Oh honey,” she breathes.

Dana drops her head to the side, cheek to shoulder. “I’m so tired already,” she confesses. “I don’t know how you had four with Daddy away.”

She reaches for her daughter’s slim fingers. “I wanted five. Eight, if we could have. Three miscarriages after Charlie and then….” she is appalled at herself. “Dana, I’m so-“

Dana squeezes her mother’s hand. “Miscarriages aren’t some kind of thought virus, Mom.”

Margaret squeezes her hand back. “I know, I know. It just feels like bad luck. And Fox, will he be….?”

Dana looks up, a flush high in her cheeks. “Why are you bringing Mulder up?”

Margaret rolls her eyes. ““I’m a Vatican I Catholic, Dana. Not an idiot.”

Her daughter has the grace to look away. “He wants me to marry him,” she murmurs.

Margaret loves Fox. She loves him the way people love barn cats and funny cock-eared dogs and every pied beauty. But all of a sudden it’s Fox at Thanksgiving, Fox properly at Christmas this time. Uncle Fox, wedding-anniversary Fox, Fox calling her…what? Mom? Surely not Mrs. Scully still.

Margaret knows her children have done the math on her oldest son’s birthday, that he was mighty hefty for a “preemie.” She knows her latest grandchild deserves to be born in wedlock, she knows every Catholic from Father McCue back to Saint Peter would be absolutely appalled with her.

“Be sure of what you want,” she says to the chestnut tree just past the living room window. To Saint Mary Magdalene, to all repentant sinners.

***

William, six. William clever and tall for his age and gingerbread-colored like his father, with his mother’s round lapis eyes. Fiona, four, happily squirting colored water into a large plastic bin of shaving cream. The twins - Silas and Clara- are nearly three and getting bathed in the sink by their father. Dana, a tenured professor, lolling on the couch. Dana pregnant with number five.

Dana yawns like a cat over some tedious medical journal. Dana ever rail-thin since her cancer. Dana still looking depleted of essential nutrients. Phosphorus? Zinc?

But Dana is still a doctor, so Margaret is silent.

“Are you all right?” Margaret asks her irritable daughter. She beams at Clara, absurdly chubby, with her Aunt Melissa’s coppery curls. Clara with her plump hands like little stars. Silas, rosy and dark-haired, howls in general indignation. Silas with his father’s fairy-forest eyes and impossible lashes. Silas who loves to pat his grandmother’s cheeks.

“Mother I’m FINE,” Dana sighs. “Sy, hush. It’s only warm water.”

Margaret watches her son-in-law for a time, watches his long hands and his furrowed brow as the twins laugh and splash and protest in the deep farmhouse sink. Her Bill could never have done what Fox does.

“Loretta Lynn said she stopped having babies when they started coming in pairs,” Fox observes, sluicing water over his anguished twins. Clara laments pitifully. Silas has a broken air about him, weary as his mother.

Dana laughs, sweet as communion wine. “Stop knocking me up, then,” she grins, hand over her enormous belly.

“Not until you marry me,” Fox replies, thumbing Silas’s fat cheek. Kissing his darkly curled head.

Fiona on the carpet, giggling as William makes farting sounds in his armpits. Fiona with the blackest hair and the bluest eyes and the most perfectly sprinkled freckles like her Uncle Charlie.

William like a wood-elf, so tall and bright.

Dana laughs again. “No priest would ever, would they, Mom?”

Margaret, exhausted and happy, sighs at the pair of them.

In the oven, turkey tetrazzini from the Thanksgiving leftovers. Potty-training sticker charts on the fridge. Will’s perfect math homework, Fee’s wobbly I LOV YU!! above a careful crayon drawing of her family.

Margaret could have never predicted this, could never have seen Fox in sweats and baking Texas Sheet Cake for the PTA. Fox staying home and juggling nap schedules so that Dana could tell anecdotes about maggots to her adoring students.

Fox has a blog, which is Quite The Thing nowadays. Fox is a bestselling author. He’s made the talk show circuit and the girls from bunko send her newspaper clippings.

Fox towels off his exhausted babies. He diapers them, dresses them in fleecy pajamas. They look at him with enormous, reproachful eyes. They pout.

Margaret holds her arms out, draws them in when they toddle over.

The babies nestle, nuzzle, make sweet baby sounds as the sink drains away. Their little mouths pop open, lashes curled on their flawless cheeks. She’s never expected Dana, of all of her children, to be living this life. Cold, prickly, distant Dana with her lunatic partner and her brain cancer and her dead little girl.

“There are infinite infinities,” William tells Fiona. “But some infinities are larger than others.”

[citrusy-lemons]

meet-cute

tasm!peter x reader (university au)

summary: you're late to your class and someone's left a skateboard on your path. the owner of the skateboard has very brown eyes.

w/c: 0.8k

author's note: um, hi. this is the first thing i've written for peter parker (i know, shocking, i mostly read about him) so i'm not sure whether i've captured his essence, but i tried. also i know it's a bit cringey but i started writing it in the reader's pov and i couldn't change it to peter's in the middle like i wanted to so, i guess, next time. i hope you like this! constructive criticism is encouraged, please be nice :)

you had not imagined your first day of university to go this way. it was a cloudy day, pleasant and not too windy. you were hoping to make it to class a few minutes early and have everything set up before the professor arrived. 

but instead, you were late, you were not organized at all, and you were panicking. all because your stupid alarm hadn’t gone off. why? because you’d forgotten to change the timezone in your phone. moving to the new city had not been easy and now you were super late for your class.

cursing yourself for your stupidity, you were hurrying across the campus, you weren’t sure where your class was, but you were hoping that you’re walking in the right direction. 

checking your bag, hoping to god that you’d grabbed the right books on your way out, with a cup of coffee in your other hand, you awkwardly jogged across the campus to the building where you hoped would be philosophy by mr. jackson. 

you were in the midst of congratulating yourself on successfully having the correct textbooks in your bag when the earth shifted. 

okay maybe that was a bit dramatic but that was what had happened to you. the earth hadn’t shifted, but you’d fallen on your butt because someone had left a skateboard lying in the middle of the walking path. 

thankfully, your coffee hadn’t spilled but your books sure had. looking up you found a brown-haired boy bashfully kneeling down and start collecting the books, profusely apologizing.

"-really sorry, are you okay? did you break anything? i broke my ankle a couple of years ago but i was just being stupid, oh god did you break your ankle? i hope you didn't, that hurts a lot. i'm so so sorry, are you okay?" he finished, turning his brown eyes on you in concern.

he looked very... soft. he was wearing a brown jacket and a navy blue zip up over a light blue tshirt. his headphones were hanging out of the neck of his tshirt. he looked like he smiled a lot. his brown hair was ruffled, his brows furrowed and you realized he was still waiting for your answer.

"i dont think i've broken my ankle if that's what you're worried about," you sat up. your butt was sore, but other than that you were okay.

"okay, that's good, that's a start, anything else broken?" he bit his lip, and you tried not to stare at it.

"no, doesn't feel like it," you took a breath, and looked away from him, towards the guilty board, "why don't you explain why your skateboard was just lying there?"

he helped you up, your coffee was still intact, you dusted yourself off.

"oh, uh yeah, again, i'm really sorry, i was checking my schedule on whether philosophy was right now or in an hour and i didn't realise it had rolled away from me," he did look very guilty, his frown saying as much.

he returned your books and you stuffed them in your bag which was lying on the ground. he was still looking at you.

"be careful then," say something clever, why wasn't your brain working?

"i'm really sorry," he offered, why was he still looking at you?

he picked his own bag up from the ground and looked away, grabbing his skateboard too.

you blinked.

"i think philosophy is right now,"

he looked at you again.

"which reminds me," you walked past him, fast. almost running, looking straight ahead.

philosophy is right now and you are very late.

"um, hey!" you heard him call out and turned around, still walking. he was facing your direction, looking at you again.

"philosophy by mr. jackson?" he asked, his skateboard in one hand and his brown bag slung across his back. did he really like the color brown?

"yeah," you called back, hoping he didn't have the same class as you.

"his classroom's that way," he pointed his thumb behind him.

goddamnit.

you stopped and started walking in his direction and he joined with you as you went past him. he took the hint that you were late and didn't really feel like making conversation. you tried not to visually show your panic but he seemed like a good observer.

you both reached the classroom (it was the first room in the building how could you have missed it?), and saw that yeah, you guys were very late.

the classroom was full, and a middle aged man was already talking to the students. professor jackson noticed you both before you had a chance to say anything.

"ah late on the first day, not making a good impression mr. and miss...?"

"peter- uh parker, peter parker," the boy next to you said.

you introduced yourself and mr. jackson let you both get to your seats without further embarrassment.

you sat down, pulled your textbook out and tried listening to what the professor was saying.

you looked for him and found peter parker's brown eyes already on you.

[the-golden-comet]

✨⛵️Story/WIP Tour Tag ⛵️✨

Oh, what a fun concept! Thank you for tagging me, @theink-stainedfolk !!

I’m not sure I can convince you about the lovely landmarks in Peter Hart , but— there’s a rope around me. Oh. We don’t have a choice in this adventure, do we?

Peter: Clever. You catch on quick~!

Ahoy, mates. Captain Hart at the helm now. I’ll be your tour guide for the voyage. Please keep your arms on the deck at all times. Do not lean on the railing; if you go overboard we’re not coming to fish you out….unless you’re Benjamin.

Benjamin: HEY!! 😡

Right, let’s get started:

✨🇬🇧Port Mayor🇬🇧✨

On your left, you will notice we are passing by Port Mayor, Great Britain. A lovely fishing port run by an absolute bastard of a person. Make sure on your stop you steal a hearty handful from the Royal’s pockets, and try their regional specialty: Port Plum Pudding. Great for the season.

🌋Isle of Talon Rock🌋

Oh, this one’s a lovely sightseeing adventure! Talon Rock is an inactive volcano in the center of thick jungle. Do watch your feet for snakes; they are quite venomous here. The igneous walls of the lava tubes are home to a variety of rich gems, but make sure you vacate before high tide if you don’t want to get your clothes wet.

✨🇬🇧Portsmouth🇬🇧✨

We arrive at another port. Excellent tailor at this location; this is where I picked out most of Benjamin’s fashion.

Benjamin: I didn’t ASK for—

—You’re welcome. If you get a chance, make sure to piss in the rose garden of the sovereign that governs this port.

✨🪨Echoing Cove🪨✨

This one looks deceptive at first glance, but a trove of valuables rests deep enough inside the many underwater cave systems. You’ll have to do a little spelunking, but if you reach deep enough the treasures are ripe for the taking~

Benjamin: Peter…why do I hear voices?

—AAAAAAAND we are getting the fuck out of here~🏴‍☠️✨

✨🇬🇧Port Florence🇬🇧✨

Aye, Florence. Another posh port with a castle loaded in riches. A very prosperous port town with a king that is all too eager to throw lavish parties and get drunk off of centuries aged wine.

Benjamin: You’re one to talk, captain…

They hold a Regal Ball every year, with a dance competition. The winners take home 50 grand. Ah, a great memory indeed~

Benji: (blushing furiously)

😏

☠️🩸Bloodwater Bay🩸☠️

….Oh shite. This place. Right, well…..some more dense jungle, a thin strip of beach, the waters are red, but don’t be too alarmed…Davey tells us that’s the iron deposits that give more of that rusty hue. There’s a tall waterfall in the center……

Benjamin: …..Peter? Peeeeeeeter?

O-Oh! Well, moving right along…don’t want to linger in this wretched bay….

✨🇮🇪Gregory’s Point🇮🇪✨

Another lovely island between the mainland and Ireland. This is a developed hotspot, turned into a small port town where all are welcome. Pirates, naval officers, merchants, the like. Between the two main countries, this place has its own governance. So, you better have a good reputation if you don’t want to be murdered in your sleep ✨

Benjamin: you say that so nonchalantly, Captain

Mmmmhm. Also home to one of the best doctors this side of the equator. So, if you get wounded, make sure it happens close to Gregory’s Point.

✨🐋Giverny Gulch🐋✨

Another island made of basalt, home to a naval shipwreck. Do watch your step for broken glass, sharp rocks, reanimated corpses—

Benjamin: —I beg your pardon?

—fish and shark carcasses….oh right. Lots of sharks. Be careful of those.

Benjamin: ….Do I hear a whale?

✨🇫🇷Lorraine🇫🇷✨

We’re arriving near France! Jacques: lead us in the singing of the French National Anthem

Jacques: Oui, oui, Capitaine~! ✨

✨🎵 Allons enfant de la patrie,

Le jour de gloire est arrivé! 🎵✨

Benjamin: 😑

✨🎵….Contre nous de la tyrannie,

L'étendard sanglant est levé

L'étendard sanglant est levé

Entendez-vous dans les campagnes

Mugir ces féroces soldats?

Ils viennent jusque dans vos bras

Égorger vos fils et vos compagnes!

Aux armes, citoyens! (Formez)

Vos bataillons!

Marchons! Oui, marchons!

Qu'un sang impur

Abreuve nos sillons! 🎵✨

🏔️Arctic Archipelago🏔️

……

Benjamin: …..Peter?

…..Let’s be off…..I wish not to be here too long.

✨🏝️The Caribbean🏝️✨

Ah, much better~! A nice, warm climate. Benji, love, remind me to acquire a bottle of Ron de Barbados 🇧🇧✨

Benjamin: Trust me, Captain; you won’t forget.

We’ve reached our final stop, but we have a whole tied-up tour group of witnesses. Mmmm…Right, I got it! Men, start hauling them over the rail—

Benjamin: —PETER!!

I’m joooooking~. Start untying them and drop ‘em off at the next port. Thank you for….“choosing”….The Golden Phoenix as your cruise. I’ve been your captain, and have a magnificent stay in Barbados. Jones knows I will~

Benjamin: P-PETER!! 😣

Leaving this open because man I had a lot of fun here ✨

✨👇Tag list for writing snippets below DM me if you want to be added 👇✨

Tag List for writing tidbits (lmk if you want + or -)

@clevah-girlboss , @glasshouses-and-stones , @tragedycoded , @deanwax , @honeybewrites , @drchenquill , @paeliae-occasionally , @kaylinalexanderbooks , @katenewmanwrites , @fantasy-things-and-such , @billybatsonmylove , @madi-konrad , @houseplantblank , @far-cry-from-finality , @froggy-pposto , @fractured-shield , @avaseofpeonies , @topazadine , @thecoolerlucky , @willtheweaver , @somethingclevermahogony , @noxxytocin , @addicted2coke-theothercoke , @ominous-feychild , @yourpenpaldee , @moltenwrites , @pixies-love-envy , @davycoquette , @writeahurricane , @nczaversnick , @greenfinchwriter , @oliolioxenfreewrites , @aintgonnatakethis , @pluppsauthor , @michellekarnold , @flurrysahin , @authorcoledipalo , @jadeglas , @spookyceph , @48lexr , @agirlandherquill , @saebasanart , @leatafandom , @pippinoftheshire , @badscientist , @dearunreliablenarrator , @worlds-tallest-fairy , @rhikasa , @swordslord

[tayloralisonswift]

What are some of the songs you think are most likely about Karlie?

Ooooooooooh i love this question sm! thank you 🫶

i’m gonna break it down by album ! this is gonna be a long post lol. disclaimer that this is my interpretation of the songs and if it's not yours, that's ok! but this is my post.

also disclaimer i'm gonna use the term 'motif' loosely.

1989 /

welcome to new york (the beginning of the new york motif; you can want who you want)

you are in love ("on the way home" caption; beginning of the best friend in love motif)

new romantics (switch sides like a record changer; uses the same plural first person pronouns as wtny)

now that we don’t talk (totally influenced by a fic i read last night that said the 'do you feel anxious though, on the way home' was about being anxious that people saw them together; can't pretend it's platonic)

reputation /

end game (joe didn't have a big reputation before they met. he just didn't)

don’t blame me (daisyyyyy; is it a sin to love you motif; everyone thinks that they know us but they know nothing motif)

so it goes (cages motif! gold motif! wear her like a necklace!)

king of my heart (boys never did it like you did motif; trying on clothes; love is a secret)

dancing with our hands tied (this could be about dianna, too - it's about a relationship that's over now imo, ripped apart because it's queer)

dress (best friend motif; everyone thinks they know us motif; so much secrecy and pining)

lover /

cruel summer (unsure if karlie is the devil or the angel but she's present in this for sure; love is a secret)

paper rings (i'd marry you with an imaginary ring, i'd choose you in every lifetime including the one where our love is a secret)

cornelia street (new york motif!!!!!!!!)

false god (new york motif!!!!!!!; it's a sin to love you motif; everyone thinks that they know us motif)

it’s nice to have a friend (best friend motif)

daylight (i don't think daylight is DIRECTLY about karlie. i think it's more a coming out song, even if it's a coming out to yourself song.)

folklore /

the 1 (rose flowing with your chosen dinner with the kushners)

cardigan (gold cage motif; you broke me worse than they did)

exile (like he's just your understudy???????)

my tears ricochet (wedding motif; about karlie's betrayal; you broke me worse than they did)

august (other woman motif)

illicit affairs (other woman motif)

peace (love is a secret)

hoax (you broke me worse than they did, new york motif)

evermore /

champagne problems (i personally think this was written from karlie's pov. taylor was putting herself in that perspective to better understand it imo) (all of this is imo)

gold rush (gold motif; hair falling into place; it just is about karlie this is a fact)

happiness (hope you and your baby are happy motif!!!!!!! it happens twice but i'm calling it a motif anyway)

coney island (failedcomingoutlor, apologizing to karlie)

ivy (other woman motif; cheating on a male partner; it's about gay sex)

cowboy like me (another one that could be about dianna too - definitely a girlfriend)

closure (oh she was mad mad)

right where you left me (hope you and your baby are happy!!!!, hair pin drop????????)

it's time to go (the twin lyric hits hard after down bad)

midnights /

maroon (best friends motif; new york motif; lips so scarlet?????)

bigger than the whole sky :(

paris (where the culture's clever???)

glitch (best friends motif)

hits different (boys never did it like you did motif, the karrrrr lyric that exists only in my daydreams) :(

ttpd /

my boy only breaks his favorite toys (best friends motif; boys never did it like you did motif)

down bad (LIKE I LOST MY TWIN?? also everyone thinks that they know us)

loml :(

imgonnagetyouback (closets? bubbly? this one could go either way - karlie or matty - but i prefer the kaylor interpretation)

thank you aimee (explanation here)

i look in people’s windows (secrecy and pining) :(

peter (secrecy and pining, reference to dwoht with 25; closets mention)

[betterto-die-thanto-crawl]

Oh, the Cleverness of Me!

Peter was bored. The Lost Boys were boring now, and Ernest was no fun, so he knew he would have to make his own... or find it. And as fun as all of Neverland was, there was nothing more exciting or fun as the pirates... So the Jolly Roger it was!

She was never hard to spot from the sky, especially when the sun was shining bright with Peter's cheery and excited mood, and the same was true today as he soared high above Neverland, looking... looking...

Aha! And there, at the helm, was the dread captain himself

He gave a happy laugh and turned in the air, doing a flip just for the fun of it (as there was no one to show off for), before soaring down to the ship to land silently in the rigging right above the helm. He gave a quiet laugh, thinking about calling out to the man, but that wouldn't do. Instead, he crowed as loud as he could, hand cupped around his mouth, all while watching him from above.

Peter Pan had come to play.

@w-o-r-d-s--f-a-i-l

[takaraphoenix]

The Clever One

(this is a sneak peek for the Steter fic I'm currently working on, where Stiles realizes in season 1 that Peter's canon behavior toward him is strange, how he never hurts Stiles, never tries to kill him, offers Stiles a choice. He comes to the conclusion that he's Peter's mate. So he sets conditions for Peter, leading to a season 2 rewrite with Alpha Peter. and Alpha Mate Stiles, rebuilding the Hale Pack together.)

--

Stiles walked into the broken, burned out husk of the Hale House like he owned the place. Just to be stopped by a hand on his chest and blue eyes flashing at him from Derek’s annoyed face.

“What are you doing here, Stiles,” Derek growled.

“I’m here to talk to your glorious Alpha,” Stiles tilted his head with an uncaring air.

He was not going to let Derek threaten him. Sure, in the past his heart would jump and he would be afraid, even if he still helped Derek out. Right now, Stiles was fully confident in his own safety. Derek narrowed his eyes in irritation, smelling or hearing that Stiles wasn’t intimidated.

“You fought him, in the hospital. You fought him to protect me,” Stiles argued with a frown. “He killed your sister, Derek. Why did you join him?”

“You wouldn’t understand,” Derek was close to snarling.

“Try me,” Stiles threw up his hands. “I understand a lot more than you think.”

This time, Derek did snarl. Just to receive a warning growl from upstairs. A cocky grin spread over Stiles’ lips. He’d known the Alpha was here too. He’d known that as long as Peter was close by, Derek wouldn’t get to do any threatening or bodily harm. The beta ground his teeth and stepped back. Hah. Oh, Stiles was absolutely going to revel in the fact that he now outranked Derek. Alpha Mate beat out the Alpha’s right-hand. His grin turned a note of shit-eating.

“He was in a coma for six years. Slowly healing. Aware of everything around him. You couldn’t understand what that is like for a wolf, especially…” Derek swallowed hard, looking away. “Everyone was dead, me and Laura were gone. He was alone with it all.”

“He went insane,” Stiles nodded. “I feel like we established the insanity part in the hospital. You fought him in the hospital. I want to know what changed since then.”

“He’s still healing,” Derek’s voice dropped even more. “He wasn’t fully healed when he killed Laura, he was… feral. Acting on instincts. Seeking to get better. Becoming Alpha… did that.”

Stiles could hear it. He could hear the despair in Derek’s voice. Stiles closed his eyes and heaved a soft sigh. Asking Derek was useless, Derek desperately wanted to believe this. Because what was the other option? That his only living family had willingly, or even joyfully, murdered Derek’s sister? No. Of course did Derek cling onto the hope that things could get better now.

“Okay,” Stiles sighed. “You can go now, Derek.”

The beta stared at him incredulously. “You don’t tell me what to do, Stiles. Werewolf, human. We established this. Why do you think you can tell me what to do, in my own home.”

With all the confidence he could muster did Stiles raise his head, not cowering, holding Derek’s gaze with a calm pulse. “Because Alpha Mate outranks right-hand.”

And oh this felt good. Stiles smirked cockily. Even as a not werewolf, he could feel the tension in the air. The shocked look on Derek’s face – genuine shock, meaning Derek hadn’t put it together yet and Peter hadn’t told him, oh damn, Derek hadn’t even known. A laugh barked out from upstairs.

“I knew you would figure it out on your own. I didn’t think so soon though,” Peter sounded both amused and nearly fond. “Leave us, Derek.”

Grounding his teeth together, Derek shot his uncle one last look before he headed out. Peter only walked into view at the top of the stairs after they could hear the Camaro roar to life and drive off.

“Tell me that he’s right,” Stiles ordered, crossing his arms over his chest. “Tell me that you are still healing. Getting better. Because, you know, the bit where you mauled one of my best friends-”

“She was all over you,” Peter growled, his eyes flashing red. “You were all over her.”

Stiles swallowed, the cockiness cracking some. Not because the growling and red eyes intimidated him, but because of how much they turned him on. No one had ever been possessive over him. Heck, no one had ever been interested in him. Sure, Lydia had gone to Homecoming with him in the end, but that had been more coercion from Allison and pity than Lydia actually wanting him. Lydia still wanted Jackson. Still loved Jackson. Might always love Jackson.

Peter cleared his throat, all calm and professional again. “I am still healing. The outside heals the fastest, it’s… the inside that needs more time, even with wolf-healing. A large part of me is still very… feral and reduced to base instincts. I attacked her because my inner wolf felt threatened by her, threatened by the way she was making advances on my mate.”

Stiles’ heart jumped a little at that. So he had figured it out, but actually hearing himself referred to as Peter’s mate was something else entirely than figuring it out on his own, for himself. Stiles bit down on his cheek, his arms tightly crossed in front of his chest. Part of him was grateful Peter was still at the top of the stairs. Physical distance between them. This whole conversation was a lot. Though Stiles had come to the realization that he was Peter’s mate, he had not fully come to terms with that fact. He didn’t know what to do with it, or what it could or should or would mean.

“I’m not going to do anything to you,” Peter’s voice was soft, which might be the weirdest part of this entire conversation. “Or with you. Not yet. You’re more child than man, Stiles. But I can already tell why my wolf chose you as my mate. You are clever. Brilliant. Tricky. Manipulative. Cunning. Quick-witted. All the qualities I cherish the most.”

Stiles couldn’t help but flush at that. “Yeah, well, don’t make it sound like that’s your grand gesture there, I am not exactly tripping over myself trying to get into your pants either. You turned my best friend into a werewolf, without his consent – even though you proved that you are capable of asking for it when you asked me if I wanted the bite – and you mauled Lydia. I’m not considering you Prince Charming. And from what my research showed, a werewolf mate-bond is something that strengthens and grows over time. So, I guess, you still have time to prove yourself.”

Peter quirked his lips, looking absolutely amused by him. “Prove myself, mh?”

“Again. Maiming and mauling of people I love,” Stiles narrowed his eyes. “You say you don’t want anything romantic or sexual with me yet, but this mate-bond thing is a life-long bond. At one point, you will. Because you’re the wolf here. You can feel it. So, if you want me to be on the same page by then, you better prove yourself to me.”

The grin on Peter’s lips looked near amazed or excited and Stiles didn’t know what to do with that. It was like the Alpha enjoyed being challenged, enjoyed that Stiles wasn’t just swooning at the prospect of having a soulmate, but gave Peter conditions to earn it. Weird.

“You’ve seen what I’m capable of,” and it was clearly implied here that Peter didn’t just speak of his werewolf abilities but morally, the depth of the things he was willing to do. “So tell me then, what do you think you can demand of me?”

“What I think I can demand of you? Pretty much anything, as long as it’s about me,” Stiles huffed amused, cocking his head. “You can’t hurt me. I mean, physically can’t. And I think that… even emotionally, you couldn’t, not intentionally. Heck, part of me thinks that you turning Scotty was for me, in a twisted, weird way, because your wolf could smell me all over him, thought it would appeal to me if you had my best friend in your pack. And Lydia. You attacked her irrationally, feral and threatened, but when I asked you to let someone come and help her, you agreed. Because you saw how much her condition was getting to me. I think I can ask pretty much anything of you.”

“Manipulative,” Peter pointed out, and he sounded proud and impressed and pleased. “Well, then.”

“You will never lay a hand on anyone I love again,” Stiles eyes were hard and his voice was cold, his body-language conveying how serious he was. “Not my dad, not Scott, not Scott’s mom, not Lydia. Reign your possessive wolf instincts in. She’s not interested in me anyway. If you ever hurt any of them again, I will put a wolfsbane bullet in you myself.”

“Threatening,” Peter smirked. “Cute.”

“I’m not joking,” Stiles frowned annoyed. “I’m the sheriff’s son. I know how to use a gun. And I know where to get wolfsbane bullets from.”

The playfulness left Peter when he realized that Stiles needed to be taken seriously here. “Okay. Noted down. I don’t plan on hurting my pack anyway. Of which Scott is a part of now, whether he likes it or not. And Lydia, well, the cuts were deep so who knows if she will end up joining my pack too. Your father is safe, I promise you that.”

There was still quip and snark in his voice, but that last sentence was spoken with sincerity and Stiles nodded pleased. “No more turning anyone without their consent. Scott hates this, hates being a werewolf, if he’d had a choice he would have said no. I get that a pack of three isn’t going to do you much good, I know you’re going to turn more people, strengthen the pack. But everyone you bite will first be informed of both the good and the bad, they will be given a choice, and that choice is going to be respected by you. The way you gave me a choice, and respected it.”

“I have no problem with that condition,” Peter waved a dismissive hand. “Scott is more trouble than he is gain to me, as is. A beta who doesn’t want to be a werewolf is not an asset to the pack. Betas who are loyal to their Alpha, who will be willing to listen to their inner wolves, will be assets. I only turned him out of instinct, the need to strengthen my pack while not being… mentally there enough to actually think things through. Believe me, I will plan out my pack in the future.”

“Our,” Stiles corrected unflinchingly. “Alpha Mate. Makes this my pack too, doesn’t it?”

The look on Peter’s face was nearly smug with delight. “Our pack.”

[foursaints]

PETER LOCKDOWN PETER LOCKDOWN LETSGOOOO (peter character study when?)

🐀 character study here and here and here (!!)

oh he's getting the saints treatment. to me the popular interpretation of peter as “funny fat friend” sometimes comes close to just another flavor of stereotyping... and it diminishes (forgive me) the sheer nymphet cunt coquetry of building an entire identity around seeming rosy & harmless & innocent. 

he's a mousy schoolboy with bandaids on his knees, smiling placidly. he's a teenage boy with that specifically gryffindorish flavor of smugness, content to play the bumbling sidekick to his friends because he's quietly keeping a list of those who wronged him. he knows that he's extremely fucking socially clever.

peter is such an observer. he's the master of a guilt trip: he would never SAY he's upset, but he'll make a perfectly sympathetic passive-aggressive little comment about everything he DOES for his friends, and the marauders suddenly feel like villains.

because that's our darling peter petrovich! he's perhaps manipulative, but those flashes are fleeting. he's supposed to be the sympathetic marauder! the friendly, relatable one! the hapless soviet sweetheart bundled in a woolen overcoat and cheerily looping his arm through james's like a girl might :) cracking mean jokes and lending him cigarettes :) the marauders like him specifically because he is slightly antisocial, because he sticks out from the hogwarts population as different. they love him for it.

^ except peter is doing this internally at all times 

[promptthebear]

Peter Pevensie x F!Reader

Summary: You end up stranded in Narnia after a routine errand with your family goes awry. The Pevensie siblings take you on an outing to a nearby lake to help pass the time. Chaos ensues. Fem!Reader, set during The Golden Age, written in 2nd person with reader referred to as "you"

A/N: So...this is also using the prompt "Oh look, my will to live, it's gone" bc the anon who sent it also requested Peter and after I did the Tormund version I couldn't get this idea out of my head so...Peter anon wherever you are. Enjoy.

The whole thing was, as usual, Edmund’s fault.

You and your parents had come to pay the Narnian royal family a visit. It was meant to be a quick trip, your father only wanted to petition King Peter for some rights to more farmland when the simple errand was waylaid by a broken carriage wheel. Thankfully, the accident had happened just outside city limits but had left you with an injured driver and no way home.

Since then, you had all been guests at the Cair for nearly three weeks while a solution was found. Under normal circumstances, being stranded anywhere would’ve been tedious at best, with nothing to do but wile away the long days in some dusty inn. You instead found yourself quite enjoying your little detour, given that you were of an age with King Peter and each of his siblings give or take a couple years. They hadn’t hesitated to bring you into the fold, filling your waking hours with various distractions and excursions.

Today’s particular trip had been to the lake, a pleasant little spot with a pebbly beach, calm green waters and a dock for fishing about an hour’s ride from the castle. While Narnian summer wasn’t quite in full swing, it was still a much hotter country than you were used to and you appreciated the cool breeze that danced across the water and gently caressed your skin.

“Do you swim, my Lady?”

At the sound of Peter’s voice, you turned, and gave the King a shy smile.

“I’m afraid not, Your Majesty. Ettismoor is a frigid land, barren and mostly made of mountains. There aren’t any lakes that I’m aware of, so I never really had the means to learn.”

“Pity,” Peter replied “These waters are perfect for it.”

“We could always teach you, couldn’t we Peter?” Lucy piped up from where she was skipping rocks along the shore line “You’re practically part fish, yourself. Everyone always says so.”

The tips of Peter’s ears suddenly turned red, though whether that was from heat or something else, you couldn’t say.

“You and Susan might have to do the teaching, Lu.” he said, clearing his throat “I don’t think our guest is quite ready to have me prancing about in my smallclothes just yet.”

Lucy let out a giggle, before turning back to searching the ground for flat rocks.

“I suppose you’re right. I’m so used to all of us swimming together, I forgot we aren’t exactly dressed in “proper” clothes when we do.”

You quickly ducked your head, and stared fixedly down at the water. Whether you had wanted it to or not, your mind had snatched up the idea of Peter in a state of undress and run with it. The more you tried to push it away, the more insistent the idea became and the hotter your face grew.

What would he look like, you couldn’t help but wonder, stripped of his doublets and tunics? He’d be well muscled, certainly. You knew he was strong, the other day he’d lifted you onto the back of your horse as easily as someone else might lift a cup of tea. The question was whether that strength was in his arms alone, or if he’d been blessed with a wide chest and chiseled stomach as well? And would he be smooth skinned under his clothes? Or would he have a healthy dusting of hair across his torso, not unlike the reddish beard that adorned his face?

“Penny for your thoughts, my lady?”

The sound of Peter’s voice made you start slightly, and you turned to him, hoping you didn’t look as frantic as you felt. You longed to come up with something witty and clever, something that would make him laugh and flash that devastating smile your way. Though, given that your heart was pounding so loudly in your ears you could hardly think, perhaps coherent was a better choice.

“I-”

A sudden, loud shriek from the general direction of the shore saved you from having to answer. Thankful for the distraction, you glanced over your shoulder and were surprised to see Susan running towards you at full pelt, with Edmund hot on her heels.

“Edmund! You get that disgusting creature away from me, this instant!” the young queen shouted, all decorum forgotten in her panic.

“Oh come on, Sue, it could be a prince! Why don’t you kiss him and see?”

As the two came closer, you glimpsed something small and greenish clutched in Edmund’s cupped hands. You knew right away it was a frog, and shuddered sympathetically on Susan’s behalf. You didn’t much care for the beasts either. Their wet skin and bulging eyes made your stomach turn.

“Will you behave yourselves?” Peter bellowed, his voice taking on a distinct kingly quality “For Aslan’s sake, Ed, we’re not children anymore!”

Neither Susan nor Edmund paid any attention to their brother’s admonishing. Instead, they kept on their chaotic race, down from the grassy shore, across the beach where pebbles flew in their wake and right onto the little dock where you and Peter currently stood.

“Edmund, I’m serious, if you don’t stop it this instant I’m going to thump you so hard-”

“Pucker up, Susan! You don’t want your betrothed to think you don’t like him, do you?”

“Oi! Watch out!”

You’d taken a step backwards to try and escape from the fracas, only to find your boot sinking through thin air rather than onto the dock like you’d planned. All too quickly, the rest of your body followed suit, sending you backwards towards the water, shrieking and flailing like a windmill.

The cold hit you first, making you feel as though someone had just dumped a bucket of ice over your head. You opened your mouth to scream again, perhaps on the slim chance someone would come to your aid, only to have your nose and throat immediately fill with water. Now the cold was inside of you, clawing into the pit of your stomach and freezing your bones in place. You could feel your body tensing with shock, making your feeble attempts to swim to the surface all the more impossible.

Then again, what difference did it make if you tried or not anymore? In order to get to the surface, you needed to know where it was and after being tossed and turned around in this frigid, murky nightmare you weren’t even sure which way was up anymore. The fact of the matter was that you were going to drown, your young life cut short all because you’d never learned to swim.

With your lungs burning and your heart pounding in your ears, you closed your eyes and let your body go limp. Once you stopped fighting, the water seemed to respond in kind. For a moment, you felt strangely peaceful, as though the lake was cradling you in its embrace. You allowed the weight of your shoes and dress to pull you down further into the darkness, imagining you were snuggled deep beneath the blankets on your own bed at home. You were going to die anyway, so why make your last moments fearful ones when you could simply…let go?

You had no sooner accepted your fate when you found yourself suddenly being wrenched in what you assumed was an upward direction. Someone, or something, had managed to hook itself beneath your armpits and was tugging you free of the water with a surprising amount of strength.

Faintly, you recalled that there were merfolk living in Narnia, though the idea only confused you further. Surely if there were such a people, they would be living in the oceans by the coast? And not in some little lake way off in the forests? Whatever this thing was, it seemed determined to save you, and who were you to be ungrateful?

All thoughts of mermaids and otherwise vanished as your rescuer finally brought you to the surface. The moment your face broke through the water, you took deep gasping breaths even though each one stung as though your lungs were filled with angry hornets.

“Are you alright, my lady?”

You tried to place the source of the voice, though when you looked up you could see nothing more than a hazy silhouette, haloed by the bright afternoon sunshine. The shape was human enough, but aside from that there was nothing human about it.

Where people were made of flesh and blood, this being was made of diamonds and spun gold. Nothing in the mortal world could be this beautiful. You reached up to touch your rescuer’s face, your addled mind convinced that if you could just make contact with them somehow, then all that goodness and beauty would flow into you and make your head stop aching so abominably.

It was only when your fingers brushed against the curls of a beard that you finally clued in.

Peter.

“I’m okay!” you all but shouted, sitting up so quickly you nearly smacked your head off the King’s chin. He had been kneeling over you, almost cradling your body within the frame of his arms as he’d inspected you for damage. It actually would’ve been rather nice, were it not for the fact that you were utterly mortified.

“Steady,” Peter said, bringing one of his hands to rest against the small of your back “You don’t want to move too quickly, my lady, otherwise-”

Right on cue you began to cough, your lungs rejecting all the water within them as a fish’s gills reject air. You clung to Peter’s arm for dear life as your body trembled with the effort, your fingers tangling in smooth silk of his sleeve.

The King sat with you while you shook, his blue eyes clouding with concern as he rubbed your back soothingly and murmured faint words of encouragement you couldn’t quite hear. When the spasms had finally run their course, he slipped his arm around your middle and gently guided you to your feet. The simple act of standing made your head spin, and you clung to Peter all the more tightly, far less worried about propriety than you were about not falling back in the lake.

“I’ve got you,” he said softly, adjusting his hold on your waist before rounding on his siblings.

“Are you happy now, Ed? Now that you’ve nearly killed someone? I hope your foolishness was worth it.”

“I’m sorry,” the other king mumbled, his expression of boyish contrition making for a strange contrast with his manly features “I wasn’t thinking.”

“Why am I not surprised? Could you perhaps try and look at her when you apologize? I think you owe her that much, at least..”

“I’d…I’d rather not.”

Peter’s brow creased, the eyes beneath them flashing with rage. He was no longer a King, but rather an exasperated older brother, just like a hundred others in his kingdom.

“Ed, of all the disrespectful-first you practically drown the poor girl and now you don’t even to have the decency to look her in the eye when you-”

“Peter.”

Four heads, yours, Edmund’s, Lucy’s and Peter’s, all turned towards Susan. The young Queen’s face was serenely calm, which was at odds with her bright pink cheeks. Susan didn’t strike you as the type to get embarassed or angry often, so what exactly was it that could have her in this state?

“Peter. She’s…she’s soaked.”

You stared at Susan, equally as puzzled as her brother. Of course you were wet, you’d just gone for a surprise dip in the lake. Why was that such a cause for concern?

Unfortunately, you and Peter happened to glance down at the same moment. Your pale green, silk dress, which had seemed like such a clever choice this morning given the heat, was sticking to you like a second skin. Every part of your body was visible, from the divot of your navel to the outline of your breasts and the curves of your thighs and ass. For all the good your dress was doing you, you may as well have been standing there as naked as the day you were born.

“Oh look,” you said to no one in particular as you brought your hands up to preserve what little modesty you could “My will to live, it’s gone.”

“Damn it all” Peter said, flushing red to his hairline “Come here, let’s get you sorted.”

No sooner had the words left Peter’s lips then you became aware of movement from the corner of your eye. You stole a glance up from your feet, and were surprised to see Peter’s fingers flying down the length of buttons on the front of his shirt. With each one opened, another inch of the King’s skin became visible, and as much as you hated yourself for it, you couldn’t help but stare. Was this really happening?

Your fantasies hadn’t been too far off. Peter was strong, the muscles in his arms flexing as he shrugged his shirt from his shoulders. A dusting of curly, reddish hair adorned his chest and stomach, growing in thickness and darkening in color the closer it got to the waistband of his pants. He was also covered in freckles, which spread across his shoulders like a cloak and most likely went down the length of his back.

If Peter noticed your staring, he thankfully didn’t seem bothered by it.

As soon as he’d removed his shirt, he was draping it over your shoulders, guiding your arms into the sleeves and doing up the buttons as though you were a child. You stood, dumbfounded, your mouth dry and your throat tight. The shirt still held the warmth of Peter’s flesh, and smelled faintly of soap and sweat.

“Thank you, your Majesty.” you said, your voice noticeably hoarse.

“You’re welcome.” Peter replied, giving you a warm smile and placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. He seemed far more comfortable now that you were covered.

“I think it’s time we head home, don’t you?”

This was from Lucy, who had been rather silent throughout the whole debacle, but as always had a keen knack for jumping in with the perfect suggestion at the perfect moment.

“High time,” came Edmund’s answer, and he quickly turned heel and started walking back towards the shoreline, as though if he ran quickly enough he could outrun the fact that he caused this mess in the first place.

The other Pevensies followed suit, Susan going after Edmund, Lucy following Susan and you and Peter bringing up the rear. Much to your surprise, the King was holding your hand, gently guiding you back towards shore, as though he was afraid you’d drift off if he let go.

As you walked, your eyes were drawn to the lines of Peter’s back, hungrily tracing his shoulders and the slant of his waist like you were trying to commit them to memory. Much like you’d thought, his back was covered in freckles, the faint dots forming constellations across Peter’s smooth, tanned skin. You wanted nothing more than to reach out, wrap your arms around his middle and plant a kiss between his shoulder blades.

“You sure you’re alright?”

Peter was still walking, but he’d turned his head to the side so he could glance at you over his shoulder. The sight of his blue eyes, looking at you so intently, made your pulse quicken.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” you said, hoping against hope he hadn’t felt your stare.

“Good. I’m glad to hear it. I’m sorry Edmund is such a prat. We’ve been waiting for him to grow up for ages, but somehow I don’t think it’s ever going to really happen.”

“No harm done, your majesty” You replied, keeping your eyes trained downwards so you wouldn’t slip on the rocky shore and make yourself into an even bigger fool “Thank you, for rescuing me, and for loaning me your shirt.”

Peter chuckled softly, and shook his blonde curls from his eyes before speaking.

“You’re welcome. I actually think it suits you better than me, anyway.”