#and knowing pete he probably knew him too

[g1rld1ary]

5 people james didn't mean to kiss (and one he did) ; james potter x fem!reader

➻ first james fic!! i love reviving old fanfic trends <33

➻ word count: 4494

➻ synopsis: says it on the tin baby!

➻ warnings: swearing, allusions to sex/dirty jokes, era typical homophobia (basically nonexistent)

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James Potter was a very affectionate person, everyone knew that. His love language was absolutely physical touch — everyone knew that too. It was also assumed, therefore, that James Potter had an extensive list of kisses. That assumption wasn’t necessarily wrong, but a good chunk of them weren’t exactly what you imagined when thinking of the great James Potter kissing someone. They were often impulsive when he didn’t know how else to express his feelings. His very first kiss, for example, wasn’t exactly the cheesy, romantic soap opera that he often advertised providing for girls.

Sirius Black

The Marauders sat in their dorm room, early on in second year. While first year was packed with ridiculous adventures and the forming of their friendship group, second year brought a new awareness of girls, romance and especially kissing. That was the topic of discussion as the boys all packed into one bed, hypothesising about what it might be like. James and Sirius led the discussion with much bravado and false confidence whilst Peter looked decidedly scared. Remus, to his credit, just looked rather amused at it all.

“But where do you touch her?” James asked, eyes still wide and innocent and twelve years old, “I can’t just stand there with my hands at my sides like a twat!”

“Don’t be stupid, you hold her like this.” Sirius bent his arms in a direction that looked borderline painful. Remus huffed and climbed off the bed, pulling both the boys with him.

“If you’re gonna kiss a girl,” Remus instructed, “You have to hold her gently. Don’t push her around like she’s dead weight. James, put your arms around Sirius’ waist like that, now Sirius, you put your arms around his neck.”

“Pete’s gonna think we’re bent,” Sirius grumbled, a red hue on his cheeks.

“You are bent, you poof,” Peter quipped from his spot on the bed. He was right, of course, but that wouldn’t come to light until fourth year. James thought this was hilarious though, and began miming exaggerated — rather sloppy — kisses. And since James never failed to cure Sirius of his moods, he did the same. Remus rolled his eyes as the two boys acted out a passionate scene, loose tongues and all, until they were no longer acting.

All four boys in the dorm were frozen as James and Sirius’ mouths had accidentally connected in their stupidity, none of them sure what to do. Seconds passed as the two stood, lips locked against each other, no one daring to move. At least, until Remus let out a long, uncharacteristic wheeze, which dissolved into a fit of giggles that he would usually be mortified by, but there was no way he was outdoing the kiss anytime soon. Peter followed along momentarily, laughing so hard barely any sound actually came out, silent heaves punctuated by gasping breaths.

Released from their stupor both boys leapt apart, wiping their mouths with their forearms. Both had comical expressions of disgust, still slightly too stunned to verbalise any of it.

“We,” James heaved, “Can never speak of this again. Ever.” Sirius agreed in a heartbeat, still unable to completely wipe the blush from his pale complexion. He probably would have dwelled on those feelings if James wasn’t James, beginning to see the humour in it soon enough. By the end of the night it was an inside joke that would proceed to be referenced countless times within the walls of Hogwarts.

So although James would tell the story of his first kiss quite differently — he alleged it was with a Ravenclaw named Keeley a few weeks later, his proper first kiss will always have been with one Sirius Black in the Gryffindor dormitories on an otherwise unassuming Tuesday evening. And that secret was held onto dearly by all four marauders until, of course, Sirius’ best man speech at James’ wedding, where the anecdote received uproarious applause, loudest of all by James himself.

2. Remus Lupin

The Marauders had all known about Remus’ ‘furry little problem’ since their second year — first for the most perceptive of the bunch. Nevertheless, the group were insistent in helping Remus in any way they could, though it was a difficult task when his alter ego had no resistance to killing them. Until Sirius had come to them with the idea of becoming animagi. It was difficult no doubt, advanced magic far beyond the teaching at Hogwarts, but the four of them were exceptional wizards each in their own way, and the project seemed somewhat manageable with four brains chipping away at it over the course of two years.

When they finally did get it, hardly any of them could believe it, least of all Remus. He had never imagined that the human side of him was worthy of this much love and devotion, let alone the monster within him. However, despite how they tried to play it off, the achievement didn’t come easily to any of them. Sirius was the first to get it, big black dog accompanying the group around the castle and becoming an unexpected staple of the Gryffindor common room. You in particular liked to cuddle up with him on the couch and spoil him with head scratches when you were stressed from school — at least until the secret was revealed and you hit him upside his human head for deceiving you.

James was second to get it, though much less gracefully than Sirius. The whole group of Gryffindors had been hanging out together down by the Black Lake, enjoying the slowly warming weather after class one day. James had the misfortune of being sat between you and Lily, which made things very confusing for his hormonal body and brain. His eyes were trained on his hands, too afraid to actually talk to either of you and embarrass himself which was what usually happened. You and Lily, however, were hell bent on making that occur. While James had had a well known crush on Lily for the last few years, ever since you’d come back to school that year post-puberty you could both tell that James was both emotionally and physically confused. You both delighted in this and used it to your advantage, Lily finding him the most annoying man on earth and you delighting in his flustered expressions (secretly finding him actually pretty cute).

After thirty minutes of torture, James couldn’t take it. You’d made one too many dirty jokes directed at him and he was a blushing mess, fidgeting awkwardly between you and Lily laughing gleefully. He excused himself quickly and uncharacteristically quietly, hurrying off to be out of sight of his friends. You all laughed as you watched him go, and Remus reluctantly stood, muttering something about making sure James didn’t drive himself crazy.

Remus headed straight to the Forbidden Forest, knowing the privacy would be what James desired in the moment. Sure enough there he was, taking a moment to breathe against a tree.

“Easy there, Potter, don’t cum in your pants,” He joked, obviously amused by the whole ordeal. James turned quickly, devastated at Remus seeing him so sexually frustrated.

“Sod off, Lupin. It’s not my fault! They both just sit there looking so fucking good, talking about all these unholy things and you expect me to just be fine with it? It’s so—” Instead of the exasperated groan Remus expected, he was met with a stag standing tall in front of him. He couldn’t help his mouth dropping open, the animal far more magnificent than he could have expected out of the fourteen year old boy.

In a weird shift of figure the deer was back to boy, and James only had a moment of shocked stillness before he was whooping and yelling in the grass. Remus joined him, the two of them yelling and dancing around like idiots in their joy. James pulled him in for a hug, appropriately masculine until he pressed a kiss onto Remus’ lips, still grinning ecstatically as they pulled away. Remus scowled in a way he hoped was convincing.

“I hate it when you do that, Potter,” He grumbled as the two of them returned to their friends.

“Yeah, right,” James laughed, pushing his glasses up his nose. “It’s a blessing to be kissed by my sexy arse.”

3. Peter Pettigrew

While all four of the Marauders were undoubtedly exceptional wizards, that didn’t always translate into their grades. For example, being so ahead in the curriculum made James Potter get lazy, often submitting subpar essays simply because he figured it was already common knowledge and he was more interested in higher level magic. He always ended up with top grades from outstanding extra credit projects, but the point still stood.

Peter was similarly a great wizard. Perhaps not so much a prodigy like James or Sirius, and didn’t dominate the class ranks like Remus, but he did well for himself and was pretty exceptional in Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures. However, he was failing History of Magic. All four of them had chosen the subject for their OWLs, assuming it would be an easy O because of the ghost professor. They couldn’t be more wrong. Binns was a useless teacher and Peter especially found it difficult to teach himself the material just from the textbook, and was falling dreadfully behind, each essay earning a worse grade than the last.

James had offered to help tutor him before their exams, and the two buckled down in the library almost every day in the weeks leading up to exam season. Peter made pretty good progress, eager to catch up with his friends and prove he was on their level. Still, everyone was nervous for the test and its outcome.

When results were released, you and the Gryffindors were all together. Whilst you and the girls all got the reveal over and done with, the boys all waited with bated breaths. Most of the grades weren’t shocking — three of them knew they could easily get top grades from the little effort they put in, but they were all waiting on Peter’s History of Magic grade. The blond boy opened his paper with shaky hands, eyes scanning frantically over the information contained. Slowly he raised his head, nervous smile apparent.

“I got an A,” He said, and within an instant the boys were on top of him, congratulating him with strong hugs or by clapping him on the back. James grabbed both of his cheeks, pressing them together and pushing a kiss onto Peter’s lips.

“Prongs!” Peter moaned, pushing his face away half-heartedly.

“I’m just proud of you, Wormtail,” He cooed, appearing much like his mother whom you all adored.

“Oi, Potter,” You interrupted, waving your sheet of results around. “I got an O in Potions — where’s my kiss?” James immediately broke your eye contact, and you pretended you weren’t charmed by his embarrassed little smile. He mumbled a response that had his friends ripping him to shreds, egging him on whilst simultaneously teasing him and his alleged manhood. He pressed a gentle peck to your forehead and you raised an eyebrow.

“Not what I meant, but ok.”

4. Regulus Black

Regulus Black had a difficult relationship with the Marauders, to say the very least. By his fifth year — the rest of the boys’ sixth — Sirius had been at the Potter’s for months and Regulus was still reeling from the impact. He was noticeably quieter and more sombre than in years previous, and a dangerous resentment for his brother and his friends bubbled under his skin.

James Potter connected these dots quickly. However, he didn’t really know what to do about it. He wasn’t sorry that Sirius was living with him, but he didn’t like that Regulus was left all alone with their wicked parents, regardless of their personal differences. That brought James to you.

You sat together on the couch, his head resting next to your thighs, curls just brushing against your skin in a way that you couldn’t stop thinking about. He was lamenting about his mental struggles as you worked on your crochet, thinking quietly as he rambled on.

“Why don’t you just talk to him?” You asked suddenly, and James tilted his head to look up at you, holding back his laughter at your upside down appearance.

“What?” He asked, “I can’t talk to him, he hates me!”

“When has that ever stopped you before? Lily hates you and yet you bother her all the time,” You said, smile playing on your lips.

“That’s not true!” James protested, “I don’t bother her that much anymore!” You rolled your eyes playfully and turned back to your craft as James continued to ponder the situation.

As usual, he decided you were right. And so he sent a short letter to Regulus, asking for a meeting on the Astronomy tower at midnight. Surprisingly he’d agreed, and the two boys were standing awkwardly across each other on the tower. Regulus refused to start the conversation and so stood in silence, staring down James in an effort to scare him off. James wouldn’t be deterred.

“I just wanted to talk about what happened last year,” He said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose nervously.

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“C’mon. I know we’re not friends, but I also figured none of your friends are the talking type either. So, I thought you could talk to me — full confidentiality. I don’t know, blame me, yell at me, I just don’t want you to do this all by yourself.”

“How sweet, Potter,” He sneered, “But I don’t need to talk about any of my feelings.”

James Potter was nothing if not persistent.

“Ok, well if you don’t want to talk, how about you listen?” To his surprise, Regulus stayed. One perfect eyebrow raised, he slowly sat next to James, legs dangling over the edge of the tower. After a gesture for him to go on, James started. He began to talk about the process of having Sirius live with him, the feelings they both had about it, and the guilt they both felt about leaving Regulus alone. At that Regulus looked up, eyes pooling with hope.

Then without any warning, Regulus was talking more than James had ever heard before, spilling what he supposed must have been the younger boy’s darkest secrets and vulnerabilities. James was unprepared, not actually expecting him to engage. At one point James had put a comforting arm around Regulus’ shoulder, words failing to express any of the feelings he had inside. Regulus didn’t pull away as James expected, instead only starting to cry. James just watched in disbelief as Regulus cried into his chest. Awkwardly, James arranged himself to press a gentle kiss to Regulus’ forehead right as Regulus moved to look up and speak, resulting in a ridiculous kiss between the two of them.

They jumped apart in less than a second, both with horrified looks on their faces.

“Oh my God—”

“That was an accident I swear—”

“I’m really sorry—”

“I was just trying to comfort you—”

Both boys stumbled over their words as they clambered up to their feet, putting a strictly heterosexual amount of space between them.

“Um, I’m just gonna go,” Regulus settled on, backing up towards the door.

“I’m seriously sorry, Black. It’s just something I do — doesn’t usually backfire like that.” Regulus just nodded, leaving quickly.

“Potter?” He stopped halfway through the door and James looked up. “Thanks.” James didn’t get any time to reply as Regulus was long gone, leaving him to cringe on his own. Neither of them would be telling anybody about the incident. Ever.

5. Lily Evans

You and James had been doing your will-they-won’t-they thing for a long time. Not quite since you met, but once you’d both started to notice the opposite sex you’d been participating in a battle of who could resist the longest. Teasing and cajoling were staples of your relationship. Whilst it had started as a way to pass the time; James had been in love with Lily since second year and you just liked to tease, at some point the feelings crossed over into a real and dangerous territory. However, neither of you wanted to do anything in case the feelings weren’t reciprocated, and truthfully hadn’t realised the true depth of them.

You and James were the only ones not to see the obvious: the feelings were absolutely reciprocated. It was tearing your friends apart, trying to get one of you to finally confess before you finished school forever. There were bets in place, pep talks and everything else the Gryffindors could think of to finally cause the event they’d been hoping for. Eventually, Lily had had enough.

One day you were all hanging out in your dormitory, most of you doing your homework and Marlene fiddling with a record player, trying to get it to come back to life.

“So, what would you guys think if I gave James a chance?” Lily asked, too coy to be genuine, but you were caught off-guard enough that you didn’t notice. “I mean, I know I’ve said some terrible things over the years, but now that he’s backed off he’s actually a really nice guy.”

“But… James?” You asked incredulously, essay immediately forgotten.

“Yeah, why not? He’s the hottest guy in our year, and if all goes to shit it’s only a few months until we graduate and I’ll never have to see him again.”

“But it’s James!” The rest of the girls had caught on to what Lily was scheming and delighted in joining in.

“Why shouldn’t she? It’s not like you like him, right?” Mary asked, studying your expressions. You hesitated for a moment, trying to find the right words. And just when they thought Lily had finally succeeded in getting the ball rolling you answered: “No, of course not. You go ahead, Lils.”

What started as a ploy to get you to admit your feelings only snowballed from there when Lily realised she couldn’t just back out now. And so she hatched a plan. Everything was going perfectly; Sirius and Remus had made sure the common room was devoid of younger students so no unhelpful rumours could be spread, and Marlene had been hanging out with you all evening to make sure you stuck to the schedule she’d devised.

With perfect precision, you and Marlene entered through the portrait just as Lily came down from the dorms.

“Hey, Potter,” She called, and James looked up curiously from his game of wizard’s chess. The redhead marched over to him, cupping both of his cheeks and kissing him strongly. Your jaw dropped open. You couldn’t believe Lily was just going for it like that, but even more you couldn’t believe the sick feeling creeping up from your stomach. You looked at Marlene, who only looked marginally less shocked. A glance around the room proved similar. Although they all knew Lily’s plan, it was two entirely different things to hear about her scheme to get the two of you together and seeing Lily Evans kissing James Potter.

“I’ve, uh, gotta go,” You mumbled, somehow finding your footing to run from the room, desperate to get anywhere where you didn’t have to see that, and the subsequent (or so you believed) union of a happy couple.

Lily pulled away from the kiss, eyes immediately trying to find you and she was puzzled when she couldn’t. A look at Marlene told her all she needed to know and her heart sank; she’d failed. James was looking a little more dazed than the head girl, and suddenly looked terribly awkward in his seat.

“Look, Lils. Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t feel that way about you anymore. There’s— there’s someone else, and I, I have to go.” With that James headed up to his dormitory, and the rest of your friends stood in a thick silence for several moments.

“I think I just made everything worse,” Lily said, and then the chaos started.

“What the fuck did you think was going to happen?” Sirius asked loudly, running a stressed hand through his hair.

“I don’t know! I just figured maybe they’d have an epiphany and both realise they’d rather be kissing each other!” Lily cried, throwing herself into an armchair.

You

Lily was right, she’d unintentionally made everything worse. You were upset at what you’d seen and the story you’d attributed to it, and even more so at your terribly timed realisation of your feelings. Because of this you’d started avoiding James in an effort to get over him, which only made you more miserable that you couldn’t talk to your favourite person. James, in turn, hadn’t seen you enter the common room on the night of the kiss and so believed —and dearly hoped — that you were blissfully ignorant, and so was equally perplexed and distraught at the space between you. He’d tried to approach you about it but you evaded him or turned him away every time.

“Hey, love, can we please—”

“It’s fine, James,” You interrupted him, “It was all just a bit of fun, right? All the flirting, the being touchy. But now you’re with Lily and I’ll back off, I get it, don’t worry. I wish you two every happiness.” You tried to sound as genuine as you could while sadness bit at your heart, and left James standing astounded in the corridor. Now he knew that you’d seen the kiss the issue was obvious, but the solution remained a mystery to him.

You’d taken to Marlene to get your feelings out, and she listened patiently as you rattled off a monologue about your childish jealousy and broken heart. Luckily, she’d discussed how to handle this with Lily — who knew you wouldn’t go to her because of her alleged involvement with James, and set off (hopefully) your friend’s last attempt to get you two together. She finally shook you out of it, frustrated with the lack of action.

“They’re not together,” She said, stopping you in your tracks.

“What?”

“They’re not together,” She repeated, making intense eye contact with you. “It was all this dumb plan Lily had to get the two of you together. She thought if you saw James getting with someone else you’d finally realise your feelings for him. And you did, but you were supposed to stick around to hear Potter reject her and say that he liked someone else, you.” You were shocked into silence, what could you say to that?

“So,” You started carefully, “What do I do now?”

James was in a similar situation with the boys.

“She saw Lily kiss me and now she thinks I like Lily when I like her! Plus, she won’t even be in my presence long enough for me to explain that it’s all just this huge misunderstanding and it’s her I want to be snogging!” James lay dramatically across his bed as the boys sighed.

“Prongs, isn’t it obvious?” Sirius asked and James cocked his head to the side, looking remarkably like a confused puppy. “Do something she can’t ignore. Make a grand gesture to prove your feelings for her.” James thought about it, it made sense. If you wouldn’t hear his explanation, he’d just have to make you.

“How?”

You and James went into the following Saturday with the same goal. It was Gryffindor’s quidditch semi-final, so there was a party being held whatever the outcome. It would be the first time you’d see each other since you’d realised your mistake since training was taking up all of James’ time.

Gryffindor had won, thankfully, which had both of you in higher spirits. The party was already in full swing by the time you got there, opting for a smoke first to calm your nerves. You’d spotted James almost as soon as you entered, always the heart and soul of a party. You marched towards him with a purpose, but as soon as he set eyes on you he jumped up to stand on a table. Someone had lowered the volume of the music — not silent, but low enough so you could hear him yelling over it. He said your full name, clearly and intentionally in a way that had surrounding people look at you curiously.

“I love you,” He said suddenly. “I am in love with you, not anyone else, and whatever made you think that’s not true was just a huge misunderstanding. Because I love you so much, and all I want to do is snog you until I’m the only name you remember, baby.” You let out a short laugh at his vulgarity and the cocky smirk that accompanied it, but a cheek-splitting smile won out when you thought about the preceding words and the sincerity he’d instilled in them. Before you even knew what you were doing you were racing towards him, gratefully taking Peter’s hand to join James on the table.

You honestly couldn’t tell who had initiated the kiss, but you were suddenly so intimately joined together it was like all the air had been sucked out of your lungs, compressing your body in an effort to fuse to his. His strong arms around you couldn’t shield you from the confetti being thrown around (for the match, of course, not just your kiss), nor the catcalls of your friends. You only pulled away when you felt James’ tongue start exploring a little too far, mindful that half the people you knew were watching. You wore matching grins as you parted, foreheads still pressed together and breathing heavy.

While it might have taken four years, innumerable (accidental) kisses and one failed set-up plan to get there, you were sure in your heart that James Potter was the only boy you ever wanted to kiss. And so you did, over and over for the years to come, and you cheered and applauded enthusiastically as the seemingly never ending list of friends and family told stories of receiving a coveted James Potter kiss throughout the years, knowing you were the only one who got to be his bride.

[faerygrant]

so much wine - carmen berzatto x reader

summary: Carmen wants to prove to you that your relationship means a lot to him, what better way to do so than introducing you to his mother over dinner.

warnings: angst, swearing, minor injury, crazy Donna Berzatto appearance

Christmas time in Chicago was indeed the most wonderful time of year, in your opinion of-course. Snow was falling, trees brightly decorated in twinkling fairy lights and colourful ornaments and most of all, it was a time for reuniting with family and friends.

The beginning of your relationship with Carmen was…unorthodox to say the least. He hadn’t asked you to be his girlfriend in the normal way most men did, it was an awkward three months into your “arrangement” of sleeping together, him being partially moved into your brownstone and being introduced to all of his staff at the Bear when you finally posed the question. What are we?

He was stunned, you were stunned and you both stood there for a good 5 minutes in silence until he admitted he thought you were already dating, causing you to let out a loud sigh of relief. You’d told him that usually one asks the other to be their girlfriend to which he just shrugged and smiled, telling you he wanted you to be “his forever.” That satisfied you.

Now meeting his family wasn’t a big deal to you, you’d met Nat only a month into the relationship, as she was regularly at the restaurant, you’d heard about what happened to his brother but never pestered him much about it, as for the rest of his family, he never spoke much about them. He of-course called Richie cousin but you were mad very aware early on by Carmen, that they weren’t actually related in any way.

It hadn’t bothered you much until one night a few weeks ago, while out with your friends, Christmas plans were mentioned, one of them asking if you’d be spending it with yours or Carmy’s parents to which you admitted you hadn’t yet met them. Most of the girls shrugged it off but Mia, your highschool friend had taken this as a red flag.

“You’ve been with him for a year, he’s met your parents, you guys LIVE together and you haven’t met his mom?” Her eyes bulged in disbelief, leading you to down your cosmo worriedly.

“I’m sure it’s nothing and if it is, he probably has good reason. He could be protecting you, you never know” Your other friend Maisie assured, ever the voice of reason. You smiled at her words. Though you couldn’t pretend that you hadn’t began to internalise what Mia had said. You knew Carmy’s dad left when they were younger, but he never mentioned his mother, ever. Unless Sugar did and he’d always step out when they’d speak about her. The only photos you’d seen of her were when you’d visit Sugar and Pete’s and even then, they were old ones.

So yes, despite the holiday being the most wonderful time of the year, the past few days the issue of Carmen’s mom had been weighing on you heavily. You’d considered prying information out of Richie, but you knew he was too loyal to Carmen, Fak would rat you out to Richie, who once again, would alert Carmen of your questions. You knew the best thing to do was either ask your boyfriend or forget about it, unfortunately your brain wasn’t going to allow yourself to do either.

Luckily for you, Carmen had noticed how out of it you’d been acting the past days and had finally had enough. So one evening after work, the restaurant closing early due to heavy snow, Carmy had approached you, ready for answers.

“Are we good?” He asks, taking a seat beside you on the bed. His tattooed arms bulging as he crossed them, adorned in a navy sweater and grey sweats. His hair was a curly mess probably from the windy evening air and he smelt of cigarette smoke and cologne.

“Wha- why wouldn’t we be?” You place the book you were reading besides you on the table and turn to look at him, feigning innocence.

“I dunno, you’ve just been actin’ kinda’ off past couple a days” he pauses, brining your knuckles to his lips and slowly grazing them with kisses. “Thought maybe you were mad at me” his tone is questioning.

“Oh Carmy, it’s not that.” You feel horrible, leaning into him to peck at his face. “It’s just that the girls and I were discussing Christmas plans and the conversation slipped into parents and Mia pointed out the fact that you’ve never introduced me to your mom, even though you’ve met both of my parents.” Immediately you see the way he tenses up, his veins appearing and his body stiffens.

“That really what’s been botherin’ you?” He asks genuinely.

“Yeah.”

“I jus- my ma’s not all there.” He whispers quietly, you notice how difficult it is for him, so you take his big hand in yours, squeezing tightly.

“Carmen I understand, it’s just important for me. If we’re going to be married one day and start a family than I’d like to meet her. The last thing I’d do is judge her.” You assure him, hopping he’d somehow believe you.

“I dunno, we’ll see.” He whispers, failing to meet your gaze.

“Alright.”

-

It was two weeks later, with lots of talking, deep heart to hearts and support from Nat and Pete, Donna Berzatto was coming to dinner at your an Carmy’s place. Carmy was a nervous wreck, insisting on working on the food in the kitchen while you just relaxed and set the table.

He warned you about her and so did Nat, you thought you had an idea of what to expect, what was to come walking through that door in a few minutes but you’d underestimated Donna Berzatto, oh how you’d underestimated her.

Carmen had just placed the braised lamb dish on the table, while you popped open the bottle of red for the night when the sound of your doorbell continuously being rung alerted the both of you. That wasn’t the only sound however, shouts of “Carmen!” Sounded from the door, along with the banging of a flat palm. Ok so maybe you knew where the night was going to be headed.

Carmen sighed, rubbing your shoulder assuringly before making his way to the front door.

“My baby boy, oh you look tired and pale, why?” You heard her fussing, her voice echoing from the foyer.

“I’m fine Ma s’jus winter.” Carmen mumbles, when finally you see her walk into the dining room. Her blonde hair is curled, red lipstick, smudged eyeliner from what you can only assume was a cry session before she’d gotten here, a bottle of whiskey in hand and long bright red manicured nails.

“Mrs Berzatto, it’s nice to finally meet you.” You hold your hand out to shake hers and she simply looks you up and down before looking to Carmen.

“Would you turn the heat up in here Carmen, I’m freezing.” She exaggerates, before taking a seat at the table, completely dismissing your introduction.

“Ma, she was talkin’ to you, don’t be rude.” Carmy speaks, already becoming frustrated with his mother. She had the audacity to show drunk and disheveled, reeking of whiskey and then act rude towards his girlfriend.

“Didn’t hear her.” She shrugs, making herself at home and reaching for the bottle of wine which she grabs, pouring a generous amount into a glass and chugging.

“It’s fine baby, just turn the heat up, I’ll serve the food.” You brush his arm affectionately. You’d try to remain composed, you’d try not to let her win, after all it was your idea in the end to have her over and you weren’t going to crack easily.

Donna had somehow settled, the three of you eating in awkward silence, the only sound being the scraping of forks and knives and sips of wine, mostly on Donna’s part.

“So Mrs Berzatto, what’ve you been up to recently?” You attempt again at conversation with her.

“Not seeing my son obviously, since you’ve got him cooped up in here, you the reason he doesn’t even bother to call his mother anymore?” She drops her fork against her plate, a loud “clank” ringing throughout the room.

“Ma you know exactly why I haven’t called, stop tryna’ blame her.”

“Oh so now I’m the bad guy for missing my baby boy?” She stands dramatically from her seat, the table shaking slightly. She’s hysterical, tears beginning to stream down her face as she points an accusatory finger at you.

“You think I don’t know what you’re doing, tryna use my son for his money and steal him away from me.” Her arms are moving wildly and before you know it, the glass of wine had swung off the table, the glass shattering onto the white tile. A large puddle of red, dripping below the table.

“Fuck, shit, fuck I got it” Carmen groans, but you push him to sit back down. You already felt guilty for pressuring him into inviting his mom over, he knew how it would go but you’d been so stubborn.

“It’s fine I’ve got it Carmy.” You try reaching for the pieces of glass while you hear Donna continuing her blabbering rant. You’re so distracted that you don’t even realise the blood that begins to pour from your palm.

“Fuck” you mumble, not wanting to alarm Carmen, however you’re too late.

“See what you fuckin’ made her do ma? Get the fuck out of our house now, I tried to give you the benefit of the doubt for her and you treat her like this? Not fuckin’ havin it, we’re done here!” He shouts and his mother is stunned.

“You’re really going to speak to your own mother like that?”

“Yes, and I’m going to show you to the fuckin’ door now”

-

“You sure you okay baby, no more pain?” Carmen asks for what feels like the hundredth time, his lips grazing your bandaged hand.

“I’m sure Carmy, thank you for cleaning me up.” He just smiles at you, resting his head in the crook of your neck.

“Carmen?”

“Hmm?” It comes out muffled, the sensation tickling your neck.

“I’m sorry for pestering you, you were right about her”

“Don’t apologise, you were curious and you deserved to know and see for yourself.”

“I know but I shouldn’t have pressed you, you were just protecting me, and I love you for that.” He removes his face from your neck, kissing you tenderly and whispering a quiet “I love you too”

-

“Can I ask you something?” He questions later while the two of you are in bed, cuddled up under the sheets.

“Anything.” You assure.

“Does this change the way you see me?”

“Never, you’re not your mother Carmy.” And those words are assuring enough to allow him to fall asleep peacefully that night.

[shayyprasad]

maybe with a missed chance | peter parker

summary: there is no one you love more than peter parker. it's too bad that there are people he loves more then you.

warnings: angst, pining, breakdowns (?), bad self-thinking/image, unhealthy eating habits

pairing: peter parker x fem! reader

word count: 2.9+ words (not proof-read)

how long had it been since you found out peter was with liz? not long, most likely. well, long was subjective, like most things.

how long is too long?

what if it’s not long enough?

it doesn’t feel long enough, the time you had with peter.

or, you know, maybe that was subjective as well. you’d known him for ages. specifically, since the 3rd grade. so, what? ten years? almost eleven? not enough time. never enough time.

if you had more, then maybe you could have mustered up some courage to talk to him. to tell him. to convince him that you were the one for him, not her.

because you were sure, more than anything in the world, that she didn’t love him half as much as you did. not even a fraction. maybe part of the reason was because your love for peter wasn’t conditional, unlike hers. it was unlimited, and you were the only person who truly understood the depth of it.

7 months, a voice rang in the back of your head. that’s how many months it’d been since they were together. at first, you were sure it was a fling.

after all, it was liz. she was notorious for those, right?

but as the days had passed, you’d realized that it was not in fact a fling. it tugged your heartstrings to watch them holding hands in halls, watching the stolen kisses.

you hated it. you hated every moment of it, knowing you could do better than her. but maybe it didn’t matter. maybe it had nothing to do with that.

she might not have known his favorite color, his biggest secret, or even his favorite delmar’s order (he got the same one every time).

maybe it had to do with her looks.

how she could look flawless, without even trying. or how she managed to keep her hair in soft, perfect waves all the time. the way her skin was milky and soft, clear of any imperfections.

maybe it was just… her.

there was never a bland moment with her. liz always knew what to say, to keep a conversation going and keep the people laughing. her flirty personality was never distasteful, not to anyone. in fact, it was appealing. even to you, you admitted.

you hated her.

no, you wished you could hate her.

but she was too perfect. too pure and beautiful, and all the nice things in the world. that was why peter fell in love with her. and could you really blame him? in what right mind would he ever pick you over her?

it was funny. you had a terrible fight with him, not too long ago. really, it was only a couple of hours before.

you looked over at peter who was tapping away at his phone, smiling softly at it. you didn’t have to look at the contact’s name to see who it was.

but you looked anyways. you noticed that she made him happy in a way you never could, in a way you wished you could.

it was supposed to be a movie night. you hadn’t had one with him in some time. from saving the city to dating liz, it seemed like you weren’t a priority.

“pete?” you asked quietly, unsure of whether you should interrupt him.

he tilted his face away from the screen, but his eyes were still fixed there. “hmm?”

“are- are you not… do you not like the movie?”

“nah. it’s fine.”

“…right, yeah. but you aren’t watching it,” you added after a moment.

“oh, yeah, sorry. uno momento,” he chuckled, but you assumed it wasn’t at his own joke, but probably something his new girlfriend said. well, not so new anymore, you supposed.

yeah, no, you weren’t a priority. but best friends were supposed to communicate, right? maybe if you voiced your thoughts to him…

“peter?” well, that caught his attention. you rarely ever called him that. it was always a nickname of some sort. he clicked his phone off and set it to the side, sensing your… sadness? was it even that? it could be, to an extent. disappointment? pain?

“sorry, sorry. i’m here," he turned to the screen, "wait, what’s going on? why is he on the truck? why is the truck on fire? why is there fire?”

finally, you blurted out, “we’re best friends, right?”

“of course. why?” he was quick to respond, but it wasn’t enough.

“i- i just feel like… we don’t talk as much as we used to. or hang out, you know?”

“oh… well, we’ve kinda changed.”

“changed? i haven’t changed. have i?”

peter shrugged, “doesn’t everyone?”

“okay, i guess. but that’s not what i meant.”

he nodded at you, urging you to go on.

“you don’t hang out with me as much,” you repeated, unsure how to express yourself. “you’re always with liz now.”

“she’s my girlfriend,” he said simply, as if that explained everything.

“i’m your best friend,” you frowned.

“but… but that’s different!”

“how so?”

“because she’s my girlfriend!”

“i don’t get it. i’m your best friend. isn’t that more important? you’ve known me for, like, ten years. and suddenly, you get a girlfriend and you’re too cool to hang out with me?”

“i didn’t say that,” peter said lamely.

“okay, but isn’t that what you’re insinuating?”

“i’m not insinuating anything. and is it really a big deal? we don’t need to hang out 24/7!”

“we don’t even hang out 3/7!” you argued back, not addressing the fact that it made no sense.

“i don’t know what you want me to say. why can’t you be happy for me? you know i’ve liked liz… since, like, forever,” he picked up his phone once more, unlocking it.

“you’ve known her for less than a year!”

“so?” he defended, “that doesn’t mean it’s not meant to be!”

“what? don’t tell me you think she’s the one,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes.

“what’s it to you?”

“a lot! you’re my best friend!”

“then act like it! why are you so pissed we’re dating?”

you stared at him. what did he want you to say? didn’t he know she wasn’t good for him? that he deserved the world, that she wasn’t it for him?

“because she doesn’t even like you like that much! she’s popular and pretty, why on earth would she go for you? don’t you think there’s a reason to that?”

the look on his face told you that you’d gone too far. and you had. you were wrong, anyways. he was everything. compared to him, liz was nothing.

“what’s wrong with you? are you jealous that you don’t have a boyfriend or something? projecting your insecurities into me? gee, real good friend you are.”

you weren’t going to act like that hadn’t stung. peter knew you had problems with your insecurities, your body-image, self-love. but you deserved it, you hurt him first. you wiped away tears you didn’t even know you were crying.

sniffling, “i’m just trying to look out for you. you can do better than her. she doesn’t love you half… half as much as…”

“as who, y/n? as who?” he looked up to meet your eyes, a scoff leaving his face. the second he saw your face, he understood.

he didn’t say another word as he left, and you didn’t stop him.

you shouldn’t have told him. you ruined everything. again.

i don't wanna talk right now i just wanna watch tv

when he left, you flicked on the tv, pretending that nothing ever happened. peter parker who? you didn’t know him. and you definitely didn’t know anything about accidentally confessing your love to him.

you kind of wanted to die. this was the worst way it could have played out, and you hated yourself for it. you should have kept your mouth shut.

i'll stay in the pool and drownso i don't have to watch you leave

you had refused to make eye contact with him as he left, simply resuming the tv. when you heard him lock the door behind him, that’s when you let yourself cry. sob after sob, wracking your body. the sound of crying as survivors played in the background. an odd mix, you’d say.

i put on survivor just to watch somebody suffer maybe i should get some sleep sinking in the sofa while they all betray each other what's the point of anything?

it was nice to see people in pain, as terrible as that sounded. people that, for once, weren’t you. someone else would feel what you were feeling, but it was a different type of pain. this one was… it was more emotional.

like thousand upon thousands of tiny daggers stabbing your heart, where every breath you took felt like glass shards dragging down your throat.

what was the point of anything? you found yourself asking that question a lot since he’d left. nothing seemed right without him. but if you were being honest, it hadn’t felt right in a long time. not since liz.

without any effort at all, she’d managed to whisk him away.

away from you. the person who loved him the most.

did he know how much easier this would be, for you and him both, if peter just realized that you were the one? not her? you scoffed a hiccup at the thought.

maybe it wasn’t meant to be. maybe you weren’t enough for him.

maybe, maybe, maybe.

all these hypotheticals, and yet you didn’t know anything for sure.

all of my friends are missing again that's what happens when you fall in love you don't have the time, you leave them all behind you tell yourself it's fine, you're just in love

you went to school the next day. you did everything like you normally would. went to all your classes, stopped by your locker.

you did everything, just as usual.

except for seeing peter. wait, no, that wasn’t accurate. you did see peter. frequently, in fact. always with liz, but that was beside the point.

you didn’t talk to him.

at least before you spoke somewhat. you got to hear his voice more… but now? not a single word. you didn’t know what to do with yourself. you hated the fact that a boy was doing this to you.

a stupid boy you’ve known for ten years and loved for six.

you used to sit in front of peter and liz, along with her friends. sure, you didn’t talk to anyone, and you had to watch them stare at each other like lovesick fools, but at least you got to be near him.

at least you had the title of best friend, which was one thing she didn’t.

or she didn’t before. who knows now?

you stood in front of the lunchroom, unsure of where to sit. your only friend was peter, really. it hadn’t always been that way.

it used to be chloe, betty, and cassie. along with peter and ned, of course.

but when peter ditched you guys for liz, you found yourself trailing after him like a lost puppy. you needed to be faithful to him. he was your best friend… or he was at some point. before.

before stupid liz, and her stupid smile, and stupid hair, and stupid… stupid everything.

love was work; you’d told yourself. maybe if he saw how you’d always be there, he’d pick you instead. maybe.

but he didn’t.

he saw liz.

he only ever saw liz.

why couldn’t he see you?

why couldn’t anyone see you?

didn’t you deserve to be seen?

didn’t you deserve something?

were you really that unlovable?

maybe, you thought, maybe.

you decided you would eat in the library. so, you went all the way into the back, and sat there quietly. closing your eyes, you let your head fall back onto the wall.

you sat on the swing, hiccupping tears to yourself softly. peter was supposed to be at math bowl practice right now, leaving you all alone. not quite knowing what to do, you went to the park. it wasn’t too late, around 5 or 6, you assumed. the sun wasn’t due to set for another hour or so.

wrapping your arms around yourself, you sniffed. the park was one of new york’s treasures, because while it was a big city, not many people knew about it. considering that, you weren’t worried about anyone else hearing you.

“y/n? what are you doing here?”

you recoiled in surprise, jumping off the swing, only to see peter. hastily, you wiped your tears.

“p-peter? what are you doing here?”

“i just asked you that. aw, are you crying?” he opened his arms for you, but you just shook your head aggressively.

“no. i’m not.”

“i can see your red eyes.”

in that moment, your eleven-year-old self hated him. how dare he do you like that? but considering that   he could see right through you, there was no point. reluctantly, you gave in, falling into his open arms. slowly, he brought you to the ground, not letting go of you.

“do you want to talk about it?”

“no.”

“did flash bully you again? i swear-“

“no.”

“okay, are you super duper extra sure you don’t wanna talk about it?”

“…no.”

“alright. i’m here whenever you want me to listen.”

“they fought again,” you murmured softly.

“who? your parents?” he asked, ever though he knew the answer.

“uh-huh.”

“i’m sorry.”

“’s okay. not your fault.”

peter pressed his lips together, thinking, “well, what if you moved in with us? you could sleep in the top bunk! or in mine with me…” he said, wiggling his brows.

“seriously,” you deadpanned.

“yep. may wouldn’t mind. she loves you more than me, anyways.”

“makes sense. hey-“ you cut him off with a laugh.

you wiped your tears, “thanks. for, you know, making me feel better.”

“that’s what i’m here for.”

“gah, but now i have a headache!” you whined.

he frowned, pulling away to inspect you, “where?”

“my- what? a-are you serious right now?”

“what? ohhh. oops.” he smiled at you, blushing lightly.

but it was different this time.

not his smile, but how it made you feel.

i'll try not to starve myself just because you're mad at me and i'll be in denial for at least a little while what about the plans we made?

it was hard taking care of yourself now. peter had always been the thing that kept you going, but now that you didn’t have him…

the kitchen seemed so far away. really, it was only a room down, but you didn’t have the energy to do anything. you could only imagine how you looked, red eyes, sunken cheeks. everything hollow from the loss of love.

it hurt. everything hurt. why couldn’t he just love you back?

you’d do anything to be in liz’s place. she had the whole world in the palm of her hand.

she had peter in the palm of her hand.

liz probably didn’t even realize how lucky she was. and yet, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t hate her.

at age fifteen, you made your favorite memory of peter.

“peter?” you asked, lying in the grass beside him.

“yeah?”

“spencer broke up with me,” you sighed, but you weren’t too upset about it. you were just sad that no there was no one who loved you loved you like that, or even liked you.

that you were unlovable to the point where no one could love you.

“really? doesn’t he know what he’s missing out on?”

you chuckled, “not much.”

“are you kidding? you’re the prettiest, most amazing girl ever!”

“you’re saying that because you’re my best friend. it’s literally biased.”

“no! okay, well a bit. but it’s still true.”

“how’s it going with liz?” you asked, even though it pained you.

“meh. she still doesn’t know my name. but, hey, she waved at me in the hall yesterday.”

you scrunched up your nose, “i think she was waving at betty,” and after a moment added, “who was right behind you.”

“seriously,” peter groaned. “i waved back! that’s so embarrassing.”

it was quiet again for a bit.

“angel?” your heart jumped, even though he didn’t mean it romantically.

“hmm?”

“let’s make a deal.”

“what?”

“if we aren’t in love by… 30… then- then we can marry each other,” you didn’t tell if he was joking, so you turned to look at him.

“are you being for real?”

“’m bein’ so for real.”

“you know what,” your heart fluttered again, “sure.”

he put out his hand, and grinning, you shook it.

you were stupid to think it was ever a possibility.

now all of my friends are missing again 'cause that's what happens when you fall in love you don't have the time, you leave them all behind and you tell yourself it's fine, you're just in love

what hurt the most was that no one ever checked up on you or thought to spare a second to say hi. not any of your past friends, not even peter. it’d been almost a month since you’d told him, but he’d cut all contact. well, except betty. she’d text you occasionally, just to say hi. you didn’t respond that often anymore.

it was fine, you told yourself.

maybe this is what you deserved.

you watched them kiss in the halls, so full of joy. the opposite of yourself.

you doubted you’d ever move on from him. maybe it was a first love, last love type of thing. maybe.

hearing a buzz, you just barely turned around to pick up your phone off the bed-side table.

betty

you’ll never believe what i just heard

betty

peter said he used to be in love with you

betty

since like 6th grade to idk

betty

isn’t that crazy?

[astxroiid]

manhattan longing // tasm!peter parker

❥ tender hands, late nights, secrets, falling from great heights.

wc: 1.1k

navigation ✩ new york private life (I) ✩ empire state of mind (II)

Peter Parker never thought a wall looked so good to punch. Sitting backwards on your toilet while you shakily stitch up a gash on his back does that to a man.

The adrenaline from the fall wore off and Peter realized he probably didn't just land on the concrete of the sidewalk.

Plus, the glass you ungraciously pulled from his wound answered any doubt.

Speaking of ungracious, the needle in his back was definitely not forming and sort of straight lines.

Peter clutches the toilet lid like a vice. Knuckles turning white and head feeling light from how long he's been holding his breath.

"Okay, this should be the last one," the tone in your voice makes him feel awful for the pain he's feeling. He can here the sadness in your voice, how bad you feel for hurting him.

You push through his skin, pulling the stitch tight and cutting the string. Peter intakes a breath, attempting to dig his nails into the porcelain he's wrapped himself around.

You set the needle on the counter, both peter and you letting out a long awaited breath. His shoulders slump. You slowly reach up, running a thumb over healed scars, all white and jagged.

"Do you fall on glass often?" Your tone is soft and close to a whisper.

Peter turns his head to the side, looking at you over his shoulder. "No, I...." he pauses, attempting to think of a good excuse. Though, you don't know that. "I used to, uhm, box. Yeah. It was intense."

"Oh," you frown slightly, tilting ur head.

You back up, allowing Peter to stand. He turns to face you, revealing a forgotten scar on his chest.

It's long. It spans from his collar bone diagonally to the bottom of his rib cage and it's almost an inch wide.

"Peter," you whisper. "There's no way you got that boxing."

Peter quickly grabs his shirt off the counter, pulling it over his head. "That one's not, I don't really wanna talk about it."

Shame. Shame and embarrassment crash over you like a cold wave. Why the fuck did i mention it?!

You look down at your hands, digging your nails into the sides of each other. "Sorry, I didn't mean to over step."

"No, nonono, don't be sorry. It's okay," Peter smiles at you and, in one spontaneous moment, he's brushing a lock of hair behind your ear.

His heart is pounding in his chest. Fear of pushing a boundary crawling up his body.

Your cheeks are warm and before you know it, your hand is holding his against your face, thumb rubbing his knuckles.

"You're so sweet, Peter Parker."

Fucking kiss her!

You let your fingers trail along his arm, trying to give him a hint he can pick up on.

Fucking kiss me!

It's the perfect time too. God her smile. And her hands, they're so soft, and gentle. Loving in a way he never knew he needed.

"Thank you for fixin' me up," Peter gives a lopsided smile, pulling his hand back to his side.

A cold absence takes hold of where his hand once was.

"Of course," you give a flat smile. "You saved my life. It's the least I can do."

꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

You offer Peter to stay the night, again saying it's the least you can do in repayment of his heroic act.

You both end up on the couch, curled up watching tv. Again, seeing a couple embrace and feeling the same longing from the other day.

You move to lay your head on Peter's shoulder, letting his arm wrap around you, and sighing into him. Comfort overtakes your body as you sink further into him, slowly running your hand up and down his forearm.

His heart is pounding in his chest. Nerves shaking his hands and his thoughts. "y/n?"

This is it. I'm finally gonna kiss her.

"Yes?"

And with the sweet, sleepy tone of your voice he feels all his confidence start to fizzle. His brain short-circuits trying to come up with a cover up.

"D'you wanna go to bed?"

"Yeah," you yawn, pushing further into him.

Pete leads you from the living room to your bedroom, making sure to turn all the lights off along the way. He pauses once you reach the bedroom, not sure where to go.

You turn and walk up to him, grinning. You place a hand on his chest, feeling his pulse increase.

Peter has no idea what to do. His heart is in his throat, hands tingling.

You let your hand slide up his torso and to the back of his neck, getting as close as you can to him. Peter gulps, looking from your eyes to your lips then back again.

Time seems to stand still, neither of you breathing nor looking away from each other. You tangle your fingers into the brown curls and the nape of Pete's neck, twirling them.

Finally, you pull Peter down to you fully. You kiss him the intensity of the sun. He immediately reciprocates. Your bodies instantly meld into one. Finding their way to the bed and laying you down on your back.

Peter Parker is hovering above you, smiling like an idiot. The same Peter Parker that you loved way back in ninth grade. You were both fourteen, both idiots. The Peter above you now is the same one that fell off the jungle gym in gym class in second grade and blamed you for distracting him.

All the memories swell in your mind, bubbling into one thought you can't help from leaving your lips.

"I have loved you for a long time, Peter Parker."

Peter's eyes go wide, head tilting towards you. "You, what?"

"Have loved you for a long time. since ninth grade to be exact," you state seriously.

You've said it twice and yet, he still can't process it. You notice and try to help him out. You push him over on his side, moving yourself the same way.

"When we were both fourteen, we went on a school field trip to the Empire State Building. We all got to go to the top, but i was afraid of heights. So, you held my hand and told me-"

"If you fall, I'll fall with you," both of you repeat together. And in a crazy twist of fate, you both did fall together.

"I've loved you ever since then."

Peter grabs you by the back of your head, pulling you in for another kiss. Souls connecting into one like two water drops.

He can't believe it. You. You've loved him from the same moment he loved you, and after all this time, you made it back to each other. Falling harder than ever.

remember: likes are appreciated but comments and reblogs are the desire. Remember they do more for authors and tumblrs than a like ever could.

[ohtobeleah]

I’d kill for a part two of that strictly scandalous concept where Hangman fucks Mavericks daughter. Just him realizing what he’s done.

HAHAHAHA. I loved this one. Here ya go. Just because I felt this on my bones, baby. and I know I've used the callsign Iris for a blurb once but imma use it again because it suits and I like it. :)

********************

Jakes shitting himself. Imagine it though— he’s in the locker room, zipping up his flight suit when Pete Mitchell slaps his hand down on Jake’s shoulder from behind. It scares the living shit out of him when he realises just who it is standing behind him. 

“You have a good weekend Hangman—?” Mav asked as Jake turned to face him, eyes wide like he’s just been caught red handed and balls deep him Mavericks daughter. 

“Huh?” Jakes trying to formulate a sentence to reply with, but he’s breaking out in a sweat, remembering just how fucked he knew he was when you introduced yourself a Lieutenant Mitchell. Pete Maverick Mitchell’s daughter. “Uh, sorry repeat the question sir?” 

“I asked if you had a good weekend?” Pete always thought Jake was a little weird, a little overzealous and egotistical—but right this minute he could be considered a flight risk. With sweat practically dripping down his face and he looks over Pete’s shoulder to see his saving grace. Rooster. 

“Yeah, yeah nah it was average—“ If you’d call fucking his captains daughter in the back of his truck average. That was a felony around here, a career ender, an act worthy of being lined up and executed point blank. “Listen, great chatting to you, But I gotta go—“ Mav doesn’t get a chance to even register what’s going on before Jake is hightailing it over towards Bradley, dragging him around the corner of the locker room with a clenched jaw and panicked eyes. 

“Dude! What’s your problem!” Bradley’s hissing at Jake’s grip on his bicep. Being pulled away into a more discreet part of the men’s locker room. 

“I’m gonna lose my fucking job—“ Bradley Bradshaw has never seen Jake Seresin so panicked before. He’s usually in control of every situation, every aspect of his life. But this? Whatever had him spooked must have been major because Bradley could see straight into Jake's soul, and he was terrified. 

“What exactly did you do?” 

“Not a what.” Jake groaned, smashing his fist against Fanboys stupid Star Wars themes locker or whatever the hell TV show he geeked over. “More like a who—“ Bradley’s not computing what Jake is trying to tell him. Watching as Jake turns, presses his back against the lockers, and slides towards the ground in complete and utter defeat. He can kiss this promotion goodbye and he hasn’t even made it through a full day. 

“Can you be a little more specific? It’s too early to be deciphering codes.” Rooster just stands there, arms crossed as Jake lets his head rest against the flimsy doors of the lockers he’s resting up against—legs spread out. 

“IfuckedMavsdaughter—“ Jake mumbles quickly and under his breath. Bradley only just makes out what he said as his eyes are blowing out of his head in pure shock. No, no this is too perfect. 

“I’m sorry you did who?” Rooster needs to hear Jake say it clearly and as precisely as possible. “You did not!” 

“I didn’t know she was Mavs daughter Rooster! You didn’t fucking tell me who she was!” Jake was right on that front, but Bradley wasn’t in the loop, when did spilling three entire schooners of alcohol on someone equates to fucking someone. “God! Do you know what he’s gonna do to me when he finds out? He’s gonna make my life a living hell!” Jake groans as he hits the back of his head against the locker in an act of self-pity.

“You fucked Y/n Iris Mitchell, he’s gonna hang you, Hangman.” Bradley loved this probably a little more than he should have. He knew his uncle all too well and he knew how protective he was of the daughter he didn’t know he had until you showed up at his doorstep one random Saturday afternoon. “He’s gonna string you up by your big toe on the flagpole—“ 

“I should just quiet before he has a chance to—“ Jakes squinting his eyes shut tight, all he can see is you riding him like you had nothing to lose in the back of his truck. He can feel your around him still, the tightest pussy he’s ever fucked. So warm and perfect and—young. Fuck, he should have know this would have eventually. “I’m a deadman walking.”

“Does she know who you are?” Bradley’s asking as he finally takes a knee and comes to sit against the lockers with his clearly distressed wingman. “Did you tell her you’re most likely her instructor? Her Lieutenant Commander?” 

“Nope—“ Jake pops the P. ���I was just gonna see how long I could go without running into her, avoid her at all costs.” 

“Yeah something tells me that’s not gonna work.” Bradley chuckles, this is the best thing that’s ever happened to him. “But good luck man, honestly I’m rooting for you.” Rooster bumps his shoulder against Jakes as he stands. Looking down at the aviator having a clear existential crisis. “Stop sticking your dick into anything that moves at the Hard Deck—I’m honestly shocked something like this hasn’t happened sooner.” 

“Can you just promise me that if I go missing you’ll tell the cops it was Mav?” Jake is as serious as he ever has been as he looks up at Rooster. “This is partly your fault to you big flightless bird—if I had been told, I wouldn’t have gone anywhere near her!” But all Bradley can do is laugh at Jake’s predicament. 

“Sure thing pal, but she told you, you could have stopped and dealt with the blue balls—but I’m guessing the night didn’t end in the truck and you're big enough and ugly enough to deal with the consequences of your own actions.” Bradley feels like this whole situation is an early birth present. He’s beaming, smug even. Of course Jake fucked Mavs daughter, of course he did!  “I’ll see you out there.” 

“You're a bad friend!” Jakes Shouting out as Bradley rounds the corner, he’s laughing as he shakes his head and exits the locker room only to run into you in the hall. Seeing an opportunity he just can’t resist passing up. 

“Iris!” Bradley cooed, grabbing your attention as he jogs up beside you from behind, slinging a shoulder around you. “How’s induction day going so far?” 

“I just came out of a lecture about weapons systems malfunctions with Lieutenant Commander Floyd.” You explained, pretty tickled pink with excitement that you were at TopGun. Not a lot of women got to experience such a feat. “He’s pretty intelligent.” 

“Bobs great—“ Bradley had known you since you were about sixteen, but you weren’t all that close for two people who’d be considered non-biological siblings. “Hey listen, I heard you left the Hard Deck with Hangman the other night.” 

“Who’s Hangman?” You asked as you stopped in your tracks. “And how do you know I left with som—“ All things considered, when Jake had told you that if Hawaiian shirts were what you were into, you should be talking to Bradley, you could have said that you saw him more like a brother than anything else. But you didn’t, you played along and said that guys with moustaches weren't your type. “Oh—no please Rooster I didn’t.” Bradley could see the look of realisation creeping across your face. You’d fucked one of your TopGun instructors, hadn't you? “No—please it’s April fools isn’t it?” 

“It’s October Iris—“ Bradley smirked, his moustache working to devour his upper lip entirely as he does. “Mavs gonna kill him—“ 

“Fuck what Mavs gonna do to him Bradshaw! I’m gonna get kicked out of Miramar if the admirals find out what I’ve done!” You're a mess, Bradley chuckles, hey maybe you and Jake had a few things in common. Your inability to cope during existential crises being one of them. “This ain’t happening! I need to talk to him, where is he?”

“He’s probably still writing his resignation on the locker room flo—“ Before Bradley can finish your sentence, he’s watching as you make a b-line directly for the locker room he’d just come out of. 

On the hunt for Lieutenant Commander Jake ‘Deadman’  Seresin.

[impyssadobsessions]

Excerpts from my WIPS ;3 Guess Which story and when- or if its a story even up. If ya want.

----DPxDC

“Keep communication lines on, we'll be moving towards your location.” Batman had replied, which made Nightwing clicked his teeth. “How much should I bet you're not going to do that?” Dick turned to ask Jason as both of them hopped off the bike. “Do what? I didn't hear anything.” “Okay, so a hundred at least.” Nightwing hummed, as he followed Red-Hood back towards the abandon lab.

----DPxDC

"-One time she sent DASH! To babysit ME! I'm older than both of them now. Y'know how awkward that was? Though the look on Dash's face was hilarious.” Dick smirked, raising a brow. “The guy that bullied you? Why did she ask him?” “Ah, probably because he's a puppy that'll do whatever my sister asks. She knows it too.” Danny clicked his tongue as his face grimaced at the implications of it. “I may or may not have... scared him a few times. I do like a disappearing act.” Dick grinned as he could imagine what Danny meant. He did seem to take any form of “keeping tabs” on him as a challenge. Danny smirked back, a mischievous glint in his eye, before dropping his face. “Jazz was REALLY upset about it. I had assumed this was her being overbearing and protective like usual-I didn't realize how hard this was on her.” The guilt thick in his throat. “She broke down crying and.. I promised her I'll stay out of the house when she's not home. 'Cause I didn't know what to do.. or say. I just..” “Thought of the easiest solution?” “Yeah... I guess.” Danny shrugged, defeated.

---------DPxDC

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Shouldn't you be resting, sir?” Alfred scolded. A small amused smirk on his lips as he carried lunch on a tray. Bruce just made a grunt. His eyes glued to the screen of the laptop. Images, news articles, videos. Whatever he could find was displayed on the screen, while he bit at the end of his pencil. A notepad next to him. “Ah yes, very informative answer, Master Bruce.” Alfred set down the tray on the nightstand beside his bed. There was more than just lunch on the tray as it carried a medical kit. Bruce sighed. He shoved the laptop to the side and struggled to sit up more so Alfred could replace his dressing. “This whole situation just crawls under my skin.” “I say it does, sir.” Alfred's hands move quickly to help replace the doctor's handy work. “Secret government organization, children in peril, and the boarder between life and death getting thinner by the day. Certainly sounds like a recipe for disaster.”

---------BULLY

Pete glanced back up at Mr. Smith. The man was eyeing him carefully, waiting for a reply. He must care about Gary in some way to go through this much trouble, right? And... it would be easier to contact Gary's grandfather than dealing with the headmaster. Pete bit his lip as he thought. “Um, Okay. S-sure.” “Atta boy! Hahaha!” Allen laughed as he smacked his hand on Pete's shoulder, making him stumble. Pete really needed to work on not being pushed around so easily. “Though, if you can mange to keep little Garreth in line, I'll add in a little bonus for your trouble. Since you're doing more than half what I was paying this damn school to do.” “That's not-” “Some good advice. Never work for free, Pete. Consider it a token of gratitude. After all, I think we both know watching my grandson isn't an easy task.” Allen winked.

--------DPXDC

Tim had no idea how he was going to pull this off. His eyes glancing from the Fenton parents to the boy he met yesterday, Danny Fenton. He knew he was dead. At least, was ghostly in some way. Danny didn't act or looked how Greta did, but Greta was visible as Deadman wasn't. So perhaps ghosts varied drastically? Either way, Danny being dead wasn't even the part that was bothering him. It was knowing he had to pretend he didn't know- while Danny sat right next to his oblivious killers. Well, the word killer might be too harsh. Tim theorized it was an accident regarding with a portal that opened on top of Danny. Which might also explain Danny's unique qualities.

---------DPxDC

“...Danny has traces of... Lazarus pit... stronger than yours.” Tim answered, with a concerned tone. They were afraid of how Jason would take it. And Jason was not taking it well, as he felt cold rage deep in his veins. The icy chill as he acknowledged that not only was Danny his blood... he shared the worse part of his blood. The reminder that they... Had died. Those scars... that was how Danny died and so far knowing their luck, he doubted it was painless. “Little Wing? Jay bird? You there, I'm almost at your location. How's Danny?” Dick called on the comms. Jason pulled the boy more into his jacket, giving him the best attempt of a hug he could. “Better than the fuckers who did this to him will be.”

------DPXDC

Danny had made an unfortunate discovery. His powers, like all ghosts, were based on emotion. Other's emotions. Even worse, the strongest one was fear. Fear fed on itself and grew stronger and stronger. And what made him discover this, made his heart sink with dread. He was stuck powerless in Gotham as his friends were laughing themselves to death along with other hostages in the room. Danny cursed at himself for listening to Sam. He should have phased them out of there, regardless of Batman's no meta rule. Now the only fear emitting into the room was his own. They were too far from others for him to feed off of, and ectoplasm was low. No.. more like the ectoplasm was being pulled away from the ground of Gotham and seeping into some other being that was far too greedy. “Well, well, well~ Look what we have here? A little party pooper!” A man with green hair and clown painted face cackled, as he waltz his way over to Danny. The black-hair teen ripped his eyes from his friends, glaring at the man. He gritted his teeth and clenched his fist, while he stayed knelt over his friends. “Funny, most parties I've seen at least has music.” Danny was feeling sweat dripping off his face. He needed to do something fast, but if he couldn't transform.. then he wasn't sure what else he isn't able to do. Not like this man looked fit, but... Danny knew danger when he sees it. “Ah, but this is music! To my ears at least, ehehehehe!”

----------CAMP CAMP

“Ah. Smell that, Gwen?” “Smell what.” “That fresh breeze! We had gone a full twenty-four hours without a single camp activity catching on fire.” “Huh, I guess you're right! This camp only smells half as shitty-” “Where's Max?” Both Gwen and David utter out in realization as it had dawn that neither of them had seen the troublesome trio since breakfast. --- “Don't worry Max! We'll save you once I finish chewing off my leg-” “Nikki! DON'T!” “Well... I'm fucked.”

[justabigassnerd]

The Talk

Pairing - Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell x daughter!reader, Bradley Bradshaw x Mitchell!reader

Word count - 2,701

Warnings - mentions of sex, lil' splash of angst, fluff

Summary - you and Bradley near the next step in your relationship, however, you worry about it

Sequel to - 'Overprotective Aviators'

A/N - what is up y'all? I appear once more to offer y'all a fic that was a lovely anon request! I had so much fun writing this and I hope I did the idea justice! I won't ramble so as per y'all, please send in requests, feedback and enjoy!!!

It had been almost one year since Bradley asked you out on a date and your relationship was still going strong. It took your dad a good week or so to actually process the fact you were dating his best friend’s son but after a long talk with Bradley which ended with Bradley ensuring he’d do his best by you and wouldn’t break your heart; your dad accepted it. Though it didn’t stop him from insisting you kept your PDA to a minimum when you were in his immediate vicinity.

The further into the relationship you got with Bradley, you started to get more intimate, lingering touches lasted longer than usual. You hadn’t had sex with Bradley, but your mind was screaming at you that you were getting clear signs you were nearing that step in your relationship. You were sure Bradley had much more relationship experience than you. He had girlfriends before he got with you, but Bradley was your first relationship. You had never been massively popular in high school so many boys didn’t look your way. Even if you did have boys throwing themselves at your feet, you were sure your dad would’ve chased them away sharpish.

Carole had quickly caught onto the changes that happened with you. She noticed how you and Bradley were more touchy than usual. How you often went off seeking privacy with him more often than not. She knew Maverick and Goose hadn’t picked up on the changes. She loved the two men dearly, but she knew there wasn’t a thought that occurred in their heads most of the time. She also knew that she should have a conversation with you, woman to woman.

One day, when Bradley was out with Maverick and Goose, working on repairs on the P-51 Mustang Maverick had found himself in possession of, Carole had headed over to your house, knocking on the door and greeting you with a smile.

“Hey, sweetie. Could we have a chat?” Carole asks as you invite her in, following you into the living room and sitting on the sofa as you nod.

“Of course. Is everything okay?” You reply, sitting down on the sofa, leaving a little gap between both you and her as your mind begins to race with worst-case scenarios.

“I just wanted to have a chat with you, woman to woman.” Carole says softly, taking one of your hands in hers and squeezing it softly. You remained silent, confused about what she was getting at.

“Now, sweetheart, I’ve noticed some changes with you and Bradley, and something is telling me you two are nearing that step where you are going to have sex for the first time.” Carole says, getting straight to the point as you feel your face get hot very suddenly.

“What? Carole, I don’t-”

“y/n, don’t bother denying it. I have eyes you know. It’s okay if you want to take that next step together.” Carole says, not letting you try and hide behind a lie. You remain silent for a moment, processing her words and thinking about your own doubts.

“I’m scared.” You admit quietly, dropping your head as Carole squeezes your hand softly, getting you to look at her.

“What are you scared of, sweetie?” Carole asks softly, her gaze never leaving you. She was all too aware that you didn’t have any kind of maternal figure in your life, so she always did her best to be a trusted woman in your life, especially since your dad had a tendency to sleep around and never get in a relationship.

“Bradley’s been in more relationships than me. He probably knows what to do and what not to do with things like that. I’m scared I’m not good enough for him.” You confess, blinking back the tears that threaten to spill past your defences as Carole coos quietly, bringing you into her arms as she rubs a hand up and down your back as she holds you tight.

“Oh y/n/n. You don’t need to worry about that. Bradley is most definitely head over heels for you. I know taking steps like this is scary, but communication is key in relationships, sweetie. Goose and I have to have conversations about things. Every couple needs communication, it’s what keeps relationships afloat. You don’t even need to have the conversation the next time you see him if it doesn’t feel right. Just make sure you do talk about it. I’m sure if you spoke to him, he’d understand. If he doesn’t then just know he’d have some hell to deal with because I did not raise him to be that way.” Carole says, pulling away and grinning when she notices the small smile creeping onto your face. You knew she was right, that relationships required communication and if you just spoke to Bradley, you were sure everything would be okay. Before you could say another word, you hear the front door unlock and Maverick announce his return with Goose and Bradley entering behind.

“Honey, what are you doing here?” Goose says the moment he sees Carole in the living room, immediately sweeping her up into his arms and pressing a delicate kiss upon her lips.

“Just wanted to keep y/n company while you men were gone.” Carole says, grinning up at her husband with loving eyes. Bradley then squeezes past his parents and sits alongside you, pulling you into a quick kiss.

“Hey, don’t push your luck, Bradshaw.” Maverick scolds as you and Bradley pull away from the kiss, smiling softly at each other.

“Dad.” You mutter, glancing over at Maverick who holds his hands up in mock surrender.

“Let’s go sit in the garden, the weather’s beautiful.” Bradley says, tugging you to your feet and leading you to the back door to head out into the garden as the adults watch with soft smiles. The second the two of you are out of sight, Carole turns to Maverick.

“Mav, we need to talk. Alone.”

“Wha- don’t you want to include me in this conversation too, honey?” Goose splutters, looking between Maverick and his wife.

“Nick, honey, I love you, but this is a Maverick thing. Besides, I know he’ll tell you the second the two of you are left alone.” Carole says, looking up at her husband and patting his cheek lovingly as he pouts lightly. Carole then grabs Maverick’s wrist, tugging him into the privacy of the kitchen and turning to face him the moment she hears Goose turning on the tv to occupy himself.

“What did you need to talk about, Carole?” Maverick says, leaning back against the kitchen counter with folded arms.

“You need to speak to your daughter.” Carole says bluntly looking at Maverick who blinks in shock.

“I literally spoke to her a minute ago.” Maverick starts, confused as to where Carole was going with this conversation.

“No. Your daughter is growing up Pete. And growing up means that when she gets into a serious relationship, she’s going to take that big step when she’s ready.” Carole says, watching as Maverick’s eyes narrow in confusion before widening in realisation.

“You don’t mean…” Maverick starts, knowing where Carole was going but hoping he was wrong.

“Sex? Yes, I do mean that.” Carole says as Maverick glances out the kitchen window, seeing you and Bradley curled up together in the hammock.

“I- are you- how did you find out?” Maverick manages to force out, looking back at Carole who bites back an amused grin at Maverick being rendered almost speechless for the first time in his life.

“I spoke to her, woman to woman. I gave her a little advice, but her dad needs to give her the rest.” Carole says, watching as Maverick’s shoulders slacken.

“You’ve given her some advice, why can’t you give her the rest? I’m not a woman.” Maverick says, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

“Pete, I may be a woman but you’re her father. You’re the only parent she has, and she needs her dad to talk to her about this whether you like it or not. She needs you to teach her how to be safe when it comes to sex. I know it's an awkward conversation, believe me, I know. How do you think Goose fared when we gave the talk to Bradley? He couldn’t get a full sentence out, I think he stopped functioning altogether. I know it’s tough when you realise your kid is growing up, but they still need our love and support regardless of their growing independence. Just talk to her Mav.” Carole says, resting a hand on Maverick’s upper arm as she gives him a soft smile. Maverick sighs lightly, but nods his head regardless, looking down at the tiled kitchen floor.

“I’ll talk to her.” Maverick says as he shifts his gaze to look back up at Carole who pats his arm.

“Good. Now, let’s get back to Goose, he might go insane if he’s alone any longer.” Carole laughs lightly, turning around and opening the kitchen door and heading into the living room while Maverick remains rooted in place for a moment, thinking over how to approach the conversation with you, re-joining Carole, and Goose once he had collected his thoughts.

That evening, after the Bradshaw’s had headed home for the night, Maverick was sitting alongside you on the sofa as you watched the tv. Carole’s words echoed around Maverick’s head as he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. Without warning, Maverick grabbed the remote and muted the tv, ignoring your protests.

“y/n, we need to talk.” Maverick starts, and you immediately have a feeling that you know where this is going.

“Did you speak to Carole?” You ask, fiddling with your fingers as you look down at your hands.

“I’d say she cornered me into the kitchen and spoke to me. But yes, we spoke.” Maverick says after letting out a weak chuckle.

“Dad, I-”

“Squirt, you’re going to need to let me talk, okay?” Maverick politely interrupts, shuffling around to face you properly.

“Carole told me that you reckon that you and Bradley are nearing that next step in your relationship. I need to make sure you know how to be safe when you do make that step. You need to know you have the right to say no if you don’t want to have sex. Don’t let yourself feel pressured into saying yes if you don’t want to. As long as you’re safe and know you have the right to say ‘no’, you’ll be fine. I just want you to be safe.” Maverick says, making you look up at him before he offers you a soft smile before he reaches out, wraps an arm around your shoulders and tugs you into his side.

“Bradley won’t force me to do anything, will he?” You ask, looking up at your dad who softens.

“No, sweetheart. As much as I like to pretend that he annoys me because he’s dating you, I know he’s so in love with you and Goose and Carole raised him to be nothing but respectful. It’s just important that you know that you can say no if you don’t want to have sex.” Maverick assures, rubbing a hand up and down your back before pressing a kiss to the top of your head as you nod against his side.

“I really love Bradley. I’m scared I’m not good enough for him because I don’t have as much relationship experience as him.” You admit quietly, curling further into your dad’s arms like you were little again.

“Oh, y/n/n. Like I said, Bradley is hopelessly in love with you. He’s as in love with you as Goose is in love with Carole. You have nothing to worry about.” Maverick reassures, squeezing you lightly.

“Carole said a similar thing.” You say as you laugh lightly to yourself as you remember Carole’s words from earlier. Maverick didn’t reply, opting to stay silent and relish the feeling of you curled in his arms. He knew you were growing more independent by the day, and that you would reach a point where you wouldn’t want to find solace in your father’s arms anymore, so he relished any moment he got with you.

“I love you, dad.” You mumble, smiling to yourself when you feel your dad press another kiss to the top of your head.

“I love you too, y/n.” Maverick whispers as you return your attention to the muted television, planning on how to approach Bradley with the conversation.

The time for you to speak to Bradley came a couple of days later, Maverick and Goose were at Top Gun, teaching, and Carole was out visiting some friends, so you had gone around to Bradley’s house. The two of you were upstairs in his room and sat on his bed as you kissed each other passionately. As you pulled away, resting your foreheads against each other, Bradley’s hand brushed against your thigh as he moved to set it on your hip. You tensed up at the contact and Bradley noticed, immediately pulling away and looking at you worriedly.

“Are you okay?” Bradley asked, his eyes searching yours as you silently scold yourself for flinching at Bradley’s touch. You’d never flinched at his touch before, but you knew why you had done so. It was time to have the conversation you were most fearing.

“Bradley, I feel like we’re getting close to that step in our relationship where we… you know… have sex and I’m going to be honest; I’m terrified I’m not going to be good enough for you. You’ve been in relationships before, and I don’t know how well I measure up to old girlfriends you had.” You ramble, opening your mouth to speak more but being stopped by Bradley gently resting a finger on your lips to silence you.

“Honey, let me talk for a moment, okay? It’s okay if you don’t have much relationship experience, we all start somewhere. I don’t know everything about relationships. I love you, and there’s no rush about anything. We don’t have to have sex or anything unless we’re both ready. There’s no rush for anything. Yes, we’re getting a bit more intimate but that doesn’t mean we have to be leaping into anything if we’re not ready. We can take it slow, that’s more than okay.” Bradley says, his gentle smile never leaving his face as he speaks, his finger moving from your lip so he can cup your face gently, his smile widening as you leaned into his touch.

“I love you too Bradley. Sorry for blurting all that out, I’ve just been panicking for a couple of days.” You apologise, attempting to bury your face in his palm. Bradley carefully removes his hand so he can see you properly.

“There’s my beautiful girl. It’s okay. I’m glad we talked about this. My parents always tell me that communication is important. I also want to be sure you know you can always come to me to talk if you need to.” Bradley says softly, leaning in and pressing his forehead to yours as a smile breaks out across your face.

“And you can always talk to me if you need.” You say, quickly leaning closer to press a quick kiss to Bradley’s lips. Just as you pull away, Bradley grabs your waist and pulls you back in, kissing you again as you bite back a giggle at your boyfriend’s sudden movement.

“Is this okay?” Bradley asks as he pulls away, his eyes flicking down to his hands before looking back up at you.

“More than okay.” You confirm, kissing him once more until the need for air becomes too much.

“As much as I’d love to keep kissing you. I had a date idea. There’s that new mini-golf place that has just opened along the beach. I was thinking we could go there and test it out, a bit of fun and competition.” Bradley says after pulling away and a cheeky smile crosses his face.

“I hope you’re ready to lose Bradshaw.” You say, a smirk covering your face.

“In your dreams, Mitchell.”

[storiesforallfandoms]

favoritism ~ pete davidson

word count: 2171

request?: yes!

@absstark​ “Hi! Ik your requests are closed atm but if u are able to, would you please be able to write me a Pete Davidson x female reader where they are dating and she’s a writer at SNL? Thank you 😊”

description: in which he’s dating one of the writers of his show, so the cast often jokes about her favoritism for him

pairing: pete davidson x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two, three)

It was actually quite ironic how everything started.

Pete was out at a bar with a couple of his SNL friends when he noticed a pretty girl sat by herself. He didn’t want to seem like a weird guy by just staring at her, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away. She was breathtakingly beautiful.

He felt someone nudge him and he looked up to see they were all looking at him. “Sorry, what were you guys saying?”

Colin smirked at him. “Go talk to her/”

“What? No, I can’t.”

“Why can’t you?” Michael asked. “She’s alone over there.”

“For one, we don’t know if she’s actually here alone. She might have a date who’s in the bathroom, or she’s waiting for him to show up. She might even have a boyfriend who’s not here. And two, girls don’t like being approached by strange men in bars. She’ll probably think I’m a fucking creep.”

They were all giving him a similar look before Devon grabbed his shoulders, turned him towards the bar, and gave him a shove. He stumbled slightly, almost bumping into another person along the way. He regained his footing and glanced over at the woman to make sure she hadn’t seen. With the encouragement of his friends, he took a deep breath and made his way across the bar.

“Hey,” he started, very lamely. She looked up and gave him a polite smile. “I’m sorry if I’m bothering you, but my buddies kind of peer pressured me to come talk to you and I’m mainly doing this to get them off my back. If you just want to reject me, I’ll happily back off.”

She chuckled and glanced over Pete’s shoulder. “Are they the group very obviously staring at us right now?”

Pete followed her gaze to see his friends watching them like a pack of hawks. They didn’t even have the decency to look away when they were caught. Colin even smiled and waved his fingers at them.

“Yeah, those are my asshole friends,” Pete confirmed.

She smiled and waved at the group before turning back to Pete. “Here, sit with me. Give them something to talk about.”

Pete pulled up a stool next to her. He extended a hand towards her. “I’m Pete.”

“(Y/N). Nice to meet you.”

They talked at the bar for hours. They hardly noticed the other patrons starting to clear out or the blaring music starting to die down as the bar did its last call. Pete didn’t even notice his friends had left until the bartender had come to give them the last warning before closing. Before they parted ways, (Y/N) gave Pete  her number and told him to text her the next day.

“Just so I know you’re actually interested,” she had said before walking away.

And he had. The moment he woke up, he texted her, “Hope texting you this soon doesn’t seem to desperate, but I’m very interested - Pete.”

Near seconds later, he got a response. “I’d be a hypocrite if I called you desperate. I’ve been waiting for you to text me since I woke up.”

They texted back and forth all day. Pete was almost late to work because he was too busy texting to realize the time. When he arrived on set he was radiating with happiness. He hadn’t felt hits way in a long time. He had a really good feeling about this one. A strong feeling he hadn’t had before in any of his relationships. There was no doubts this time around.

His castmates noticed his good mood and asked what was up, but he just responded with a shrug and played it off. The guys who had been out the night before knew exactly where his good mood was coming from, but Pete decided to keep it to himself. He didn’t want to get too ahead of himself and tell everyone about (Y/N) just yet.

“Hey, Pete!” Lorne called as he spotted Pete making his way to set.

“Hey Lorne,” Pete said. “What’s up?”

“I wanted to introduce you to our new writer. She’s starting today, so try not to scare her away just yet.”

Pete chuckled, but it died off when Lorne stepped aside and gestured to the newbie. “(Y/N)?”

Her eyes widened, too. “Pete?”

“You two know each other?” Lorne asked.

“We met last night,” (Y/N) responded.

Lorne looked between the two of them. “You...met last night?”

“Not like that,” Pete assured him. “We met at a bar and just talked all night. We exchanged numbers, that’s it.”

Lorne had a skeptical look on his face that made Pete’s heart drop to his stomach. He knew how this was about to go: he would have to delete (Y/N)’s number and their messages, and he’d have to forget their would be romance before it even started. It was a HR issue, one that they would definitely not be allowed to explore.

This was the quickest broken heart he had ever gotten.

“You know, technically I should be sending you to HR to discuss this,” Lorne started. Both (Y/N) and Pete winced at the idea. “But that’s a lot of time and paperwork, and all that bullshit. So, I’m going to take both of your vocal promises that whatever this is will not interfere with either of your jobs.”

The two of them happily agreed. Lorne nodded and muttered something about leaving before he witnessed something he shouldn’t. That left (Y/N) and Pete alone, a slightly awkward tension in the air.

“You didn’t mention that you’re working for SNL,” Pete said. He meant it to come out lighthearted, but he winced when he realized how accusatory it actually sounded.

“I...actually didn’t know you were on the show,” she admitted. “You never mentioned it. You just said you were an actor.”

Pete chuckled. “Okay, we were both a little untruthful. Maybe we start over on the introductions.” He held his hand out to her. “Hi, I’m Pete. I’m a main actor on  Saturday Night Live.”

(Y/N) giggled and shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, Pete. I’m (Y/N), and I just got hired to write for Saturday Night Live.”

“Well, congratulations. And good luck on it. I heard the cast are all assholes, except for that Pete guy. So make sure you give all the funniest jokes to him.”

(Y/N) giggled again, looking down at the ground between them shyly.

It was the start to an amazing relationship. Pete could honestly say he hadn’t felt this happy in a very long time. They kept their personal lives separate from their work lives, which seemed to be the big key to making things work. Nothing was ever discussed about the show unless they were on set, and the minute they walked on the lost their relationship was put on the back burner until they left.

But the moments they had outside of work were some of the best moments of his life. He loved being with (Y/N) and spending most of his free time with her. He was trying not to go too fast with their relationship the way he had in past relationships, but it was hard not to be a bit optimistic with how well things were going.

Of course, dating a co-worker came with some teasing from other co-workers; especially when the other co-workers were fellow comedians. The main joke that the cast liked to tell was that Pete was getting favoritism from (Y/N) when it came to being given the best jokes.

It started during the table read for a skit. They were about halfway through when Punkie cut Pete off mid-joke to proclaim, “No fair, he’s getting the best jokes!”

Everyone stopped to look at her in confusion. They couldn’t tell if the look on her face was serious or not, so Pete asked, “Excuse me?”

“Your jokes here are so much better than mine,” Punkie said. “Must be nice sleeping with one of the writers.”

Punkie laughed, but Pete looked horrified by her “joke”.

“(Y/N) didn’t even write this sketch,” Kenan pointed out.

“That’s a very serious accusation, Punkie,” one of the producers commented.

“Come on, guys, it’s just a joke,” Punkie said. “I’m not mad. Just keep reading.”

Once they finished the table read, Pete decided to approach Punkie himself. “Hey, Punkie, listen. I know what you said was a joke, but...can you maybe be mindful of the way you say it? You could get (Y/N) into a lot of trouble if the wrong people heard what you said.”

“Pete, I didn’t mean it. Everyone knows (Y/N) isn’t actually giving you favoritism in the sketches.”

“I know, I’m just saying to work on your delivery. I really don’t want to have to deal with HR.”

“Okay, I get it. I’ll try to be more funny about it next time.”

And that was truly the wrong thing for Pete to say; for him to agree that if it was clearly said as a joke, that it was fine to say that (Y/N) favorited him. Because once he made the distinction that it was okay to do it in a joking matter, it was like the entire cast had decided they wanted to joke about Pete and (Y/N). It wasn’t anything new for the cast, they joked around with each other all the time. They were all friends, and you had to have a sense of humor if you were gonna be on SNL.

But man, after some time, Pete found it so much more annoying than his castmates meant it to be. He was trying so hard to separate his work life from his personal life, like Lorne had wanted, but now it was like his personal life was open season for all of his friends.

And it was definitely something (Y/N) had noticed. The jokes were never made to her face the same way they were to Pete’s, but she heard the whisperings or the aftermath of certain jokes when approaching Pete. She never said anything at first, which made Pete hope that maybe it didn’t bother her as much as it bothered him.

But one night, as they were leaving set, Pete noticed that (Y/N) seemed distracted. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close to him as they walked through the doors onto the lot.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” he asked.

(Y/N) nibbled on the inside of her cheek before she spoke, “Do your castmates really think I favorite you when writing?”

Pete stopped walking suddenly, causing (Y/N) to stumble a little. He turned to face her and she did the same.

“Baby, of course not. They’re only joking when they say that shit. No one actually believes it,” he assured her.

She shrugged. “I guess, but they say it so much. I’m starting to worry that they actually mean it but don’t want to say it, which could get us both in a lot of trouble if it ever comes back to HR.”

Pete put his hands on her shoulders. “Baby, I promise they do not mean it. If it ever got to HR, they would all swear up and down that they’re joking. They just like to poke fun at me because I had to fall in love with a new writer on set, out of all people. But it’s not serious, I can promise you that.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “You fell in love with me, huh?”

Pete couldn’t help but smile too as his hands ran down her arms to take hers. “I would think that’s pretty obvious by now.”

“You haven’t said the big L word before,” she said. “So, I don’t know, I thought maybe this was all just for fun.”

He chuckled, knowing that she was joking about the last part. They both knew they were in this relationship for the long run. There was nothing “just for fun” about it.

But she was right in saying that he hadn’t said the big three words to her yet. Although he knew deep in his heart that he did love (Y/N), he hadn’t been ready to say the words to her just yet.

That big L word was out there now, though. So, realisitically, he was part way there.

“I love you,” he said.

He didn’t think the smile on (Y/N)’s face could get any wider, but it did. She lit up like Times Square and leaned closer to him.

“I love you, too.”

They closed the gap between them to kiss. It was meant to be a sweet, romantic moment for the two of them, but it was quickly cut off by someone calling, “Get a room you two!”

They pulled apart, chuckling at the reaction, before deciding to go home and do just that.

[suzukiblu]

Ko-fi thank-you sentences for an anon; the Gotham Kid. Cut for length.

“Get out of the way, kid,” Pete says, stepping up behind Lily’s perch below the narrow barred window above the doors. She stares down at him warily, then flicks her eyes to Kid. He nods, because it’s a risk, but it’s a risk that needs taken right now. 

And more importantly, because it’ll get her to leave the door so she’ll be out of the splash zone if shit does go down. 

“Yer funeral, dumbass,” she says as she flashes Kid the sign for careful, then hops down and runs off. 

These kids are way too fucking good for this bullshit, Kid thinks, his chest squeezing painfully. 

Superman could do more for them than he can. Even Clark Kent could. 

Kid . . . Kid can just chase them away from where he thinks the splash zone’s gonna be and hope it works out. 

He feels all of the guys outside lift a hand at once, though only one of them actually knocks on the door. Doesn’t bode great for them not being Clayface, he thinks. Or Hatter victims. Or something equally fucking horrifying.

Could always be a total unknown, of course. Could always be that. 

“Who’s there?” Pete calls, sounding oddly . . . grim, almost. Or maybe . . . wry? 

Some part of Kid expected him to say it jokingly, for some reason. Like a knock-knock joke, or . . . like he was mocking or teasing the problem, showing off sly humor and casual confidence. Not . . . 

Why did he expect that, he wonders? 

No–why did Superman expect that? 

Because it was definitely Superman’s memories that expected that. 

“Open up,” the man who knocked drones, which is notably not a response to what Pete said. All their bodies still feel too dense, but the knocker’s built a little different from the others. 

Meaning, his body has enough in the way of lungs to actually speak. 

Fuck, Kid thinks, tightening his hands into fists. 

He knows ASL because Superman has an eidetic memory and has been slowly but surely making his way through learning the basics of as many languages as he can, for crisis situations and the like. Or at least, he knew enough ASL to get by, and he’s taught himself a little more since then. Except it’s only enough to “get by” when there’s someone else around who knows it, and he doesn’t know how to relay anything about how wrong all these fucks’ bodies feel to a bunch of strangers who probably don’t know any sign at all. 

Though even if he did, he’s not sure he wants to play that card either. 

But if it might get the others hurt . . . 

Kid hesitates, then reaches out for Pete’s sleeve. Pete jerks his arm out of the way without looking, the reaction an obvious reflex, then stares blankly back at him over his shoulder. 

“This really the time, kid?” he asks. 

Kid . . . hesitates, then points at the door. Then he fingerspells n-o b-r-e-a-t-h-e, hoping maybe the guy at least knows the alphabet. He doesn’t want to get into the whole total lack of lungs and other vital organs issue, for obvious reasons. Nobody in the neighborhood would question him saying something like that, at this point, but he doesn’t know if Pete’s gonna listen to even this much. Assuming he’s even understanding him right now, anyway.

Pete . . . tilts his head. 

“Boss?” one of his guys says, eyeing the door warily. 

“Hm,” Pete says, then looks up at the window above the door. “Wait here.” 

“Wait for–” another one of his guys starts to ask, and Pete jumps up, grabs Lily’s abandoned perch, and pulls himself up onto it all in one swift motion. The move looks smooth and effortless, and Kid might even believe it was if Superman didn’t know damn well exactly how much effort it takes a human to move like that.

At least the unenhanced ones, anyway. 

Kid remembers how green Pete’s eyes are again, and just . . . wonders, a little. 

Pete peers through the window above the door, then grins. It’s a mean, merciless one. Not the one Superman’s memories expect. 

Kid doesn’t know quite what those memories do expect, though. Just that it’s something else. Something . . . different.

[mitchellpete]

Kinktober Day 12 - Voyeurism

pairing: tom “iceman” kazansky x f!reader (x pete “maverick” mitchell)

cw: penetrative sex, voyeurism, could count as cucking?, brief icemav implications but if you squint you can ignore it

word count: 1386

kinktober masterlist here.

18+ ONLY | MINORS DNI

-

Maverick immediately knows what’s going on the moment he steps through the door, the noises loud and clear. His brows immediately knit together in confusion, in surprise, at the absurdity of the situation. The front door to your house had been unlocked, for starters, and you’re somewhere inside, and he can hear you moaning and what sounds like shit being knocked around. 

A scowl meets Maverick’s knitted brows as he shuts the door and immediately makes his way down the hallway. 

He doesn’t know what he’s doing; he’s certainly not gonna barge in and ruin your fun but Christ, is there any indication on who you’re with right now? He needs to know. And maybe he suddenly regrets everything you promised one another—that you wouldn’t catch feelings, that this fling wouldn’t last past his time at Top Gun—but maybe he actually did like you, and you just ruined it all the moment his hand turned the knob to your door. 

Maverick gets closer to the noises, a mixture of panic and intrigue seeping through him when he realizes the door is cracked open. Just enough that when he reaches the frame, he sees you. 

You’re laying on your side, a big body behind you, long strong legs and a sharp snap of hips meeting yours. An arm around your torso. A hand propping your leg up for easier thrusts, a blue Academy ring tauntingly sparkling at him.

And then his eyes catch the head of spiky blonde.

For fuck’s sake. 

For a moment, Maverick is almost blinded with anger. His heart stoops down to his feet and all he can think of is betrayal. How sick you are for doing this to him. 

You’d been fucking each other for weeks. Had made a comfortable situation out of it, and came to terms with the fact that it probably wouldn't last. But Maverick was sort of on top of the world right now, getting to fly with his best friend, competing for the Top Gun trophy, being the best possible pilot he could be up there. Taking his chance to prove himself once and for all. And Maverick is always all or nothing, and if he knew that this would backfire on him, then he’d shoved it to the deepest corner in the back of his mind and chose to go through with it anyway just for the fun of it. And now he’s paying the price, and the promises he made you don’t mean anything anymore. How could you? Yeah, yeah, you’re not together, you’re not in love, you’re certainly not chained to one another, but why? 

Iceman of all people.

That’s gotta be a personal fucking vendetta you’ve got against him. 

God, and he really did like you..? By the way..? No matter how many times he told himself he didn’t..? Fuck that. He does. He did. He decided the moment he stepped inside your house. And now all of it is fucking soiled. 

He considers running out, slamming the front door for effect and mounting his Kawasaki and taking a long drive out of here. Giving you the silent treatment the next time he sees you. Maybe finally punching Iceman in the fucking face the second he hears that irritating voice sound out his name in the locker room, just before going on a tangent about aircraft safety and some other bullshit Maverick never pays attention to. 

But he does not move.

And he realizes a little too late how entranced he is at the sight in front of him.

Maverick’s eyes roam, but they settle right at the junction between your legs. His lips part at the sight of Ice’s cock ramming into you. You’re so wet, he can see it pooling with every slippery thrust. The sound of skin on skin brings a heat to Maverick’s cheeks, his own cock twitching in his pants. 

Your moans are loud and repetitive, cries of pleasure he’s heard many times before.

Iceman’s pace is relentless, quick and hard and perfect. Even in the shadows, Maverick is slightly intimidated. 

Maverick doesn’t avert his eyes, lets out a stifled groan at the feel of his hardening cock in his tight jeans. It all worsens when he hears Ice moan, the sound prettier than he’d like to admit. It stirs the desire in him, flushes his entire body in heat. What he would do to be in Ice’s position right now, fucking into you like his life depended on it, sliding in and out of that tight, wet heat over and over. He knows how good you look; he can imagine how good Ice feels fucking into you like this. 

As if on cue, “You like to watch, Mitchell?” that familiar voice sneers at Maverick from behind you. 

Maverick flinches, unintentionally takes a step back, but it’s no use. Ice is hovering over the side of your body, angling his hips to find a better spot. He’s got a shit eating smile on his face, staring right at Maverick, and it’s then that Maverick realizes. 

It wasn’t you. None of this was you. Did… did Iceman know? Did he leave the door open for Maverick to find? He fucking would. And Maverick would get angry again if he wasn’t so turned on out of his mind. 

You continue moaning, in a hazy state of bliss, but your eyes flick over to the doorframe at the sound of Ice’s voice. Maverick stands there, watching with a fiery gaze.

“M—Maverick,” you cry out, an arm absentmindedly reaching out in his direction. Your brows furrowed together, you hope he realizes you’re inviting him in; that just the sight of him almost has you keeling over and letting go. You want him in the room, but he doesn’t budge, remains in the shadows of the hallway, so you moan out again, “Please.”

Ice chuckles behind you, giddy. You’re amazed at how composed he is, how his thrusts haven’t even begun to falter. You’re so close to your orgasm, but he seems to be doing fine still. 

“P–Pete,” you gasp a third time, and then Ice hits a very sensitive spot inside you. “Oh, fuck, Ice!”

The heat of Ice’s body pressed to yours, his tight grip on your torso and the force of his thrusts are dizzying enough, but it’s even beyond that when the door creaks a little wider. Maverick hesitantly steps inside, though his eyes remain glued to you. Leaning against the wall right next to the door, he watches as Ice’s hand clasps around your breast, roughly kneading at it. 

“Knew you liked to watch,” Ice remarks, but he’s not looking at Maverick anymore. His eyelids are lidded in pleasure, lips parted as he nears his own orgasm.

Maverick’s stomach flips at Ice’s words, but he doesn’t respond. He focuses on you and how high pitched your moans sound, knows very well that that’s an indication that you’re cumming soon. 

“Ice,” you sob, your hand reaching for his and then clawing at the skin of it. “I’m gonna cum.”

Ice leans in to press his mouth to your ear, teeth lightly grazing the skin of it. “Cum for me, baby,” he rasps quietly. 

Mouthing at your neck, Ice’s eyes flick over to Maverick again, whose gaze has gotten wider. His entire face is painted crimson, eyes roaming at the sight in front of him, wanting every detail of your incoming release. Are you gonna cum for Ice the way you do for him? Let out that gorgeous sounding moan, long and lengthy when you start to shake? 

You do. 

Maverick bites his lip at the sight and sound, has to palm at his cock through his jeans to ease the ache a bit.

He watches intently as it takes Ice too, his thrusts finally sloppy, his body going slack next to yours. Ice groans out loud against your skin, his grip around your body loosening. 

The sensation breaks your haze, and you throw your head back against the mattress as it sinks in. Finally making eye contact with Maverick and his flushed face, you bite back a smile as you try to figure out how you’re gonna explain the situation to him. Maverick is wondering what he’s gonna do about his fucking hard on. Ice is just sliding out of you with a laugh.

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

A 1k fic prompt for you! How about Ed being really sure that his "punishment" when he gets back to the ship will be way worse than just the crew making him wear a sack and a bell, and Stede being sad that Ed was willing to come back even with the assumption that he was going to get, like, keelhauled?

Oh this one is JUICY, I love it. Ed baby please accept that you don't deserve to be hurt

--

The room was empty when Ed woke up.

He tried to let himself drift back to awareness slowly. He felt better than he had since he’d been dead - something about being back on the Revenge, everyone properly together again. Something about having Stede with him again.

They’d fallen asleep in the bed together. Stede had insisted on it, since Ed was hurt and all. They’d been proper gentlemen about it, fell asleep with just their little fingers linked.

The crew hadn’t objected when Stede had turned back up with Ed in tow. They’d been expecting it, actually, it looked like, and that was…troubling.

Stede had said he would talk to them when he got up, to discuss their conditions for allowing Ed back on the ship. He must have wanted Ed to be able to sleep in a bit.

Ed was grateful for that. He didn’t know how well he’d be able to sleep for the next…little while. Depended on how angry they were at him, he guessed. He got up slowly, reminding his sore body that these aches and pains would probably feel like heaven compared to how he’d feel tomorrow.

The crew had been expecting him back. He’d hurt all of them. They would be wanting revenge, naturally.

Ed tried not to worry too much about it. He’d been through floggings before, those rarely killed you. Keel-haulings didn’t kill you all the time. Chopping off his gun hand, or a leg - that was something you could live through.

“Oh, Ed, good morning!” That was Stede, poking his head in the door, and Ed gave him a tight, nervous smile. “Just been talking to the crew. Jim and Frenchie were voted to be the ones to deliver your conditions, does that sound alright?”

Ed nodded bravely. “Sure.”

“Great.” Stede gave him a quick smile. “We’ll get this business sorted, and then we’ll have breakfast. Be right back!”

Stede was, Ed thought, being very optimistic about Ed’s ability to eat breakfast once all was said and done. Great, now he had to worry about disappointing Stede if he was hurt too badly to keep anything down.

Ed folded his hands in front of him as Stede led Jim and Frenchie into the cabin, trying to look appropriately cowed.

“Right.” Frenchie’s polite smile did not reach his eyes, and Jim was glaring at him.

This did not bode well.

“We just have a few big things, really,” Frenchie started.

“And a lot of little things,” Jim said. “Like no shooting anyone, or pointing guns at anyone, including yourself, and -”

“Ed knows all that stuff already,” Stede interrupted mildly. “You don’t have to tell him the little ones, he knows.”

“The big ones, then,” Frenchie said impressively. “One: for the duration of your probationary period, you have to wear a sackcloth.”

“The ancient symbol of penance.” Ed nodded seriously. He could accept that with grace.

“And you can’t be sneaking up on people,” Jim added. “So you have to wear a bell.”

“Pete already found you a little kitty collar,” Stede said helpfully.

“No, yeah, I can do that,” Ed said. “Sackcloth. Bell. Got it.”

Here it comes, he thought nervously.

“And finally,” Frenchie said seriously, “you’re on potato-peeling duty. All week.”

Ed stared. “That’s…it?”

Jim shrugged. “I think some people also wanted a public apology? So that too, I guess.”

“No, I mean…” Ed shifted nervously from foot to foot. Maybe he was just being stupid, and they assumed he already knew the flogging was coming? “How many lashes do you want? Fifty? A hundred? Because if it’s more than that, I -”

“Ed,” Stede interrupted, and Ed realized that Jim and Frenchie were just looking at him blankly, and Stede looked absolutely horrified. “Good God, Ed, no one’s going to beat you.”

Ed looked at Jim and Frenchie for confirmation.

“No, yeah, absolutely not,” Frenchie said. “We’re not doing that.”

“Yeah, no,” Jim agreed. “I mean, I’m still pissed at you. Shitty captain. Shitty behavior.”

“Yeah, I know,” Ed mumbled, looking at the ground.

“But,” Jim shrugged, “like, listen, man, when you’re about to beat someone’s head in and they say finally like you did, you don’t feel good about that, y’know? I already beat you to death once. I don’t wanna kill you.”

“Yeah, mostly we kinda just want to make sure you’re not going to go all crazy on us again,” Frenchie added.

Stede was very quiet as Jim and Frenchie brought Ed the sackcloth onesie Wee John had prepared for him and a collar with a bell on it. Like, yeah, this was kind of embarrassing, but compared to what he’d been expecting? Fuck, he’d take the sackcloth any day.

“Here, let me.” Stede had given Ed privacy as he got changed, but he stepped up close to him to fasten the collar around his neck. Ed tilted his chin up, baring his throat to him without even hesitating.

The collar was tight but not horribly uncomfortable, and it made a merry little jingle every time he moved. Ed thought he’d keep it, even after his probation was over. For…reasons.

“Hey.” Ed frowned as Stede pulled back, concerned by the downward slant to his mouth. Ed was feeling positively jovial; Stede just looked upset. “What’s the matter?”

Stede shook his head minutely. “You agreed to come back,” he said softly, “even though you thought you were going to be hurt?”

“I mean, yeah.” Ed frowned. “Kinda deserve that, anyway -”

“You do not,” Stede said firmly. “You don’t deserve to be hurt. You’ve been through enough, for fuck’s sake. You deserve to feel safe.”

“I do,” Ed promised, a bit surprised by how much he meant it. “I’m just surprised they don’t…you know, they don’t hate me.”

“They never hated you,” Stede promised, giving the bell a little flick with his finger. “Not at all, Ed. You broke their trust, but that’s it.”

Huh.

Trust was something that could be won back. Ed liked the idea of that.

[shayyprasad]

skittles | peter parker

summary: peter likes to pick on your size.

warnings: ...short... shaming...? idk it's supposed to be an attempt at fluff

pairing: peter parker x short!fem!reader

word count: 0.67k+ words

peter parker loved you, no doubt, and he also happened to love making fun of you.

"ughhh, peter just give it to me!" you whined, reaching for the remote he held way up above you.

"what do we say when we want something?"

"give it to me or i'll snap your neck," you said, despite the fact the both of you knew it wasn't possible. but, hey, we're all for empty threats.

"mmm, close. but no."

"give!"

"being tall is so much fun."

"you've stooped down too far to be considered tall now."

"awww, wittle y/n is angwy!"

you gave him a warning stare, and he grinned in response. whining again, you tugged at his shirt. peter had the most smug look on his face, and you just wanted to slap it right off, "beg, shorty."

you gasped, "no! and i'm not that short! i'm- i'm... just below average."

"okay, okay. you're not short. you're," pete paused, thinking, before his eyes lit up, "you're fun-sized!"

"i'm sorry, what? how is that any better?!"

"aw, c'mon, that's adorable!"

"fun-sized!" you repeated, frowning. "how on any earth is that any better?"

"no, no, it's better! like- like... skittles!"

"...skittles? the candy?"

"well, yeah."

"the candy? did you just compare to to candy?"

"i guess. but, wait, if it's any consolation, you totally taste better."

"peter!"

"what?"

"give me the remoteeee. i wanna watch gilmore girls!"

"you've seen it a million times."

"boo-hoo. it's my turn."

he tsked, "okay. but you gotta get the remote first."

"peter, i swear i'll end your supply of kisses. for a lifetime."

the boy gasped, "you'd never, skittles."

"no. i don't like that name. i like 'angel'. call me that. not skittles."

"but it's so cute! and it fits!"

you simply glared at him. "so does angel!"

"meh. and it is," peter insisted.

"it most definitely is not."

"well, of course you don't like it. you're fun-sized."

"not. fun-sized. that's so much worse then being called half-pint! or oompa-loompa! actually, is it bad that i prefer pee-wee? or stumpy?"

"no, i think i like skittles."

"peteeeee. babyyyy."

"yes?" he asked, teasing.

"give me the damn remote," then after a second, "please?"

"hmmm-"

"you know what?" you said, tossing your hair over your shoulder, "no kisses."

"nah, you'd-"

"they've been revoked."

"but-"

"re-voked."

"ski-"

you snapped your head back at him, raising an eyebrow.

peter smirked, "skittles."

true to your word, you'd refused to kiss him the rest of that day and into the next. unfortunately for you, he was taking it great.

peter seemed to really like that nickname, but it didn't matter. you'd break him.

probably.

"skittles!"

you groaned loudly, muttering curses under your breath. from across the hall, you could see peter, a bright grin on his face. shoving things in your locker, you refused to give him any good attention.

who's skittles?

"not me," you muttered under your breath.

"hi," peter said, leaning in for a kiss, which you dodged. peter pouted, "still?"

"yes."

"oh, well. hey! i got you something!"

"ooh, really," you asked, breaking character.

he chuckled, "peace offering." peter tossed something at you, which you managed to catch. looking down at it, you groaned once again, glancing back up at his stupid face.

"seriously?" you asked.

it was a pack of fun-sized skittles.

"you likey?"

"no. me not likey." but since you were hungry, you tore the bag open. before you could get any, he grabbed some.

"hey! those are mine!"

peter plopped them in his mouth, "i gave them to you."

"exactly, so they're mine now!"

he opened his mouth, sticking out his tongue, "want them back?"

"ew, no!" you crossed your arms, "i'm telling may."

"oh, yeah? what'll she do?"

"ummm.... ground you."

"she can't ground me. i'm spider-man."

you smirked, eating an orange skittle. "remind me again, does she know that?"

"no- hey!"

"that's right." you stood in triumph, closing your eyes briefly. in that moment, catching you off-guard, he kissed you. forgetting momentarily of what you said you wouldn't do, you kissed him back, smiling lightly.

pete smiled, "tastes like skittles."

[jessicaloons]

Chapter 41:

I like shiny things, but I’d marry with Paper Rings…

Masterlist - Previous - Next

TW: spicy, adult content, 18+

Info: to fit my story line I swapped Austin with Mexico, the triple header will then be Mexico, Austin, Brazil

I stirred in the bed, the sunbeams sneaking through a gap between the curtains woke me up and I yawned.

"What time is it?" Charles whispered next to me and I turned a little, checking the time on my phone.

"Too early to be awake…" I mumbled, turning back, snuggling into him.

"Yeah? Then let’s sleep for a little longer." he kissed my forehead as I laid my head on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat.

"Sounds like a plan." I whispered, closing my eyes.

"Why is your heart racing like that?" Charles asked after a while and I opened my eyes "Are you okay?" he turned his head, looking at me.

"I think so…"

"You think so?"

"It’s nothing, let’s just sleep…" I closed my eyes again, but he put two fingers under my chin, tilting my head up.

"What’s wrong?" he asked gently and I sighed.

"Last year here in Mexico…" I said quietly.

"That’s on your mind?"

"A little? I mean when we did the track walk and we walked past the spot where it happened… I don’t know, it’s just felt weird and I thought back to when I was in the garage and- and I thought you were dead…" my voice broke and Charles pulled me closer into him.

"But I was okay. I am okay. It’s just a bad memory, nothing else! Don’t think about it anymore, it’s not good for you, especially not when you have to focus on the race ahead!" he kissed the crown of my head and I slowly nodded.

"Can you just promise me that you take care out there today?" I whispered after a while and heard him sigh a little.

"I can promise you that I will try. You know that’s all I can do…"

"I know. But please try to."

"I promise that I will."

Unfortunately keeping his promise was harder than it sounded like, when I watched the RedBull and Ferrari sandwich in front of me, sending Checo off track and Charles losing the lead to Max. I took a deep breath and focused on my own race which I ended in the same position as I started in.

"That’s P4. Good job." Pete radioed and I sighed a little.

"Yeah, it was the best I could do I guess. Good job on the team’s side, our pit stops are getting better with every race!"

"Team effort."

"Team effort."

Austin next started out strong. A good quali and sprint race were making me feel optimistic for Sunday, the race didn’t bring the same result tho, with a P7 but it was the best we could do. I finished my interviews when I saw Charles looking frustrated, shaking his head.

"What’s going on?" I asked and he sighed.

"The FIA checked the planks on some of the cars… Lewis and mine apparently didn’t comply the technical regulations, so there’s a hearing."

"Are they for real? That was probably because we had two races at one weekend! Of course there’s some high wear on the skin pads! This track is fucking bumpy and with the stupid sprint race there’s not enough time to check it properly?" I said loudly and some people looked.

"Lizzie…" Julie warned and I sighed.

"Let’s go…" I grabbed his hand and lead him away, back to his hospitality "I would wait with you, but I’m not allowed in there…"

"Let’s go to Audi, I don’t want to wait alone…" Charles shrugged and I nodded.

"Okay." we walked back and waited, but I had a bad feeling and when Mia said that the final decision was made, I already knew by the look on her face what it meant.

"I was disqualified, right?" Charles voice was trembling.

"Yeah… you and Lewis…"

"Lewis as well? That means…"

"Carlos will move up into P3…" Mia said and Charles laughed.

"Of course… but hey, Lizzie, congrats to your P5 now." he patted my arm.

"Charles…" I began but he got up.

"No, it’s fine. It’s like this. Whatever. We can’t change it now anyways. I go to my race debrief, what’s there to debrief anyways but yeah… you go to yours. I see you later." he kissed me briefly and walked off.

"Can you please make sure that he’s okay?" I asked Mia and she nodded.

"Of course…" she walked off and Julie sighed.

"What a day…"

"What a day indeed."

"I don’t know if that’s a good idea…" Charles mumbled and I rolled my eyes a little.

"Oh come on! After that race? You deserve a little fun!" I said.

"Yeah but… I have to make some points in Brazil! I can’t mess this up!" he sighed.

"You won’t mess it up! It’s all going to be fine! We’ll be in Brazil right in time for the media day. It will be fun, you’ll see!" I smiled and after a while he sighed.

"Danny Ric and his ideas."

"It will be fun. Come on now, costumes!" I smiled excitedly but I didn’t like the look on his face "Why are you looking at me like that?" he just chuckled and I punched his arm "I swear, if you picked a slutty nurse or house maid costume… I’ll cut off your ba…" I began but got interrupted by his hysterical laugh.

"Oh cara mia, although I would love to see you as a slutty nurse or house maid, I wouldn’t want 500 other people to see that, too, there are parts of your body only I get to see… no, I picked something better!" he said and his little possessiveness made me blush.

"Alright. Then I’d say let’s exchange the costumes and get going?" I said, trying to contain my grin.

"Oh, what have you done?" Charles asked, voice laced with a tint of worry.

"You’ll see…" I chuckled and grabbed the garment bag "I’ll go to the bedroom."

As I zipped the bag open I sighed and took the costume out, now I preferred a slutty nurse or house maid costume. I googled for make-up and hair ideas when I heard steps coming my way and the door flying open.

"Absolutely not! No! I’m not wearing that!" Charles cursed and I looked him up, from head to toe.

"Holy shit, you look hot… umm… I’m… umm…" I was at a loss for words, he looked amazing. Hot. Sexy. Dangerous. Wearing all black.

"I’m not wearing a Mercedes race suit as a costume! Ferrari will kill me!" he groaned.

"Then I’m not wearing this…" I said and pointed at the costume on the bed.

"Fine. If I lose my job, it’s your fault!" he sighed and I chuckled.

"Oh come on, if anything it will only make them draft your new contract faster!" I said, still ogling him up and down. My insides began to stir and I was feeling hot, flushed "Go now, please. I have to get ready." my voice was raspy.

"Maybe I should talk to the design team and ask for an all black suit next season?" Charles chuckled and I shook my head.

"Go. Now. Thank you." I pushed him through the door and sighed "Slutty cheerleader here I go…"

Charles POV:

I watched how Lizzie danced with Kika, having fun, laughed.

"It’s been a while since I saw her this carefree?" Pierre nodded towards our girls and I smiled.

"Yeah… this whole thing with Diaz, then with Sainz, Singapore and the m…" I stopped abruptly and Pierre cocked an eyebrow.

"What happened in Singapore?"

"I mean, she could’ve won that race, silence the media who were slandering her again and again…" I lied and he nodded.

"Yeah, that’s true, it was a shame, honestly."

"It was. But look at her, she’s happy. That’s what’s most important."

The two girls pulled us on the dance floor and Lizzie threw her arms around my neck.

"Are you having fun, Charlie?" she asked swaying and I smiled.

"A whole lot… my beautiful cheerleader is here dancing with me after all." I replied and kissed her.

"Mhh me too. It was a good idea that we came here… alright your costume…" she mumbled against my lips and I tilted my head a little.

"What’s with my costume?"

"I don’t like how all the girls are staring at you because you look so devilishly handsome in this black race suit." she pouted and I had to laugh "That’s not funny!"

"Cara mia, you chose the costume!" I said matter of factly.

"I know… but still…" she groaned a little and I pulled her closer, kissing the corner of her mouth, down her jaw, feeling her squirming in my hold.

"Don’t worry, pretty girl. They might see me in the suit… but you’re the only girl seeing me out of it…" I whispered in her ear and I felt her shuddering.

"Let’s get a taxi…" she rasped out and I grinned at her like a devil "Now."

She clung to me, her arms around my neck, hands carding through my hair, leaving hot open mouthed kisses along the column of my neck, my jaw, my throat. My hands gripping her waist, pulling her close into me, fiddling with the fabric of her skirt, hiking it up her thighs. As soon as the elevator door opened I pushed her out, walking us fast toward our door, prying my hands from her waist, lifting my head up to see the security panel of the door. Lizzie looked up at the loss of my arms around her and the sudden movement of my head.

"Pretty girl, I have to open the door… stop pouting…" I groaned as she began suckling at the sensitive skin just below my ear.

"Hurry up…" she whined, pulling my head down, clashing her hot, wet lips onto mine, making me taste the sweetness of the cocktails she drank earlier. The door opened with a simmer and I tapped her thighs, making her jump a little, wrapping her legs around my waist on instinct. I walked inside, kicking the door shut with my foot. Holding her up at her thighs, massaging them, distracted by her kisses and licks around my neck I stumbled into the bedroom, where I dropped her on the bed. She tilted her head up, eying me from head to toe, hungry look in her eyes.

"You look so devilishly hot in that suit… mhhh why don’t you screw Ferrari and go for Lewis seat instead?" she said breathless and I slapped her thigh "Was that supposed to be a punishment? Try again…"

I chuckled and leaned down, holding myself steady above her, ghosting my lips over hers before I kissed the corner of her mouth, then kissed a line to her ear, breathing out, hot and heavy against it, making her moan a little.

"I think you would much rather enjoy a reward…" I whispered, gently biting down at her earlobe.

"How do I earn it?" she whispered back, her voice trembling with anticipation.

"I’m a Mercedes driver… I want to be cheered on by my personal cheerleader…" I grinned at her and she put one hand in my neck, pulling my head close.

"I can do that…" she breathed against my lips and nibbled at my lower lip before she pushed me off of her and got up, she then turned around and I sat up. She unclipped the Pom Pom’s from her waist and began to do a cheer routine.

"I love seeing you wearing my logo… it’s like I marked you… for everyone to see…" I muttered and she smiled seductively "But right now I wouldn’t mind seeing you out of it…" Lizzie understood the hint immediately. Throwing the Pom Pom’s my way. Sliding her hands up and down her sites, before she hooked her thumbs under the hem of the top, pulling it slowly over her head, revealing a dark red lace bra, making me choke up. I loved seeing her in red. And she knew it. She gently cupped her breasts before turning around, bending down, shaking her behind a little to reveal the sight of the matching slip underneath her short skirt. I felt how the suit got tight around my crotch, too tight, and threw my head back, closing my eyes. My breathing hitched when soft fabric hit my face and I opened my eyes, looking down at Lizzie’s bra in my lap. The second I looked up I lost all restraint and jumped up. Backing her up against the wall, making her whimper as the rough fabric of my race suit dragged along her bare skin, when I pressed my knee between her thighs, pushing up her skirt. I kissed her, rough and deep, almost frantic as the sweetness of her lips and tongue engulfed my senses. Sensations of heat, lust and love rushing through my body. I felt my growing bulge against her thigh, making her moan and me taking a deep breath. Lizzie’s hands began to fiddle with the zipper of the suit and she whined desperately as it wouldn’t budge.

"Don’t be so impatient, pretty girl!" I grinned and helped her, pulling the zipper down, letting her strip me off of it, the suit pooling around my waist, before pulling my shirt over my head. She pressed her firm breasts into my chest and I could feel her pebbled nipples against my skin as we moaned in unison. I pushed her skirt further up her thighs, exposing the dark red, lazy slip, cupping her heat with my hand, rubbing once. She bit her lips, suppressing a moan and I felt her knees buckling so I grabbed her thighs, hiking them around my waist, pushing her further into the wall. She let out a surprised huff and locked her eyes with mine, before she captured my lips in a searing kiss, it was sloppy, messy but above all desperate. It was suffocating and hot in the best way possible, but my growing bulge pressed against her hot core made me pull away, trying to catch my breath. Lizzie made a little sound of protest, before gripping my neck again, trying to pull my lips back to hers.

"Charles…" she whined and I pushed us off the wall, carrying her to our bed, falling back down on it, Lizzie above me. She blinked and sat up, straddling my hips, and I felt my heart palpitating, lungs clenching, as I saw her naked frame, looking like a true goddess. I put my hands on her waist, rubbing circles on it and with one swift move I turned us over, hovering now over her. Her hands shot up, tangling in my hair and pulling me closer. I only gave her a soft kiss on her lips before I started my way down, kissing her throat, collarbone, leaving tiny marks. My hands pushing her skirt down her legs as I kissed down the valley between her breasts, locking eyes with her, hungry and full of lust. I kissed my way further down, nibbled at her stomach making her clench it in the process. As I arrived at her core I kissed it above the fabric, making Lizzie bucking her hips, I gently laid one hand on her stomach and pushed her back into the mattress, waiting a moment for her to calm down, then I hooked my thumbs under the band of her slip and pulled it down with one smooth move, throwing it together with her skirt behind my back. A soft thud telling me both clothings landed on the floor.

"Ready for your reward?" I whispered and looked up at Lizzie, who nodded slightly, and I grinned, devouring her. Caressing her soft skin, making her moan, gripping my hair, pulling me closer to where she needed me the most.

"Don’t stop…" she whimpered as I stole the air from her very lungs, making her puff out a long breath "Close… so close…" she mumbled underneath her breath. After a short while, she arched her back, grinding her core into my face, whining and moaning in ecstasy, as she reached her climax. I let go of her, looking up at her gorgeous face, eyes closed, blissful smile on her lips, chest heaving with every breath she took, beads of sweat glistening all over her beautiful body. Her hands let go of my hair, searching around until they found mine, still holding her waist down. She intertwined our fingers, gently pulling me up and I obeyed, leaning down over her face, looking at the pretty girl underneath me, my pretty girl. She slowly opened her eyes, still out of breath.

"Hi…" she whispered, all of a sudden shy again, cheeks slightly blushing, as she looked at my face, bottom half glistening with her essence and she closed her eyes again, groaning quietly.

"Hi pretty girl…" I answered, gently nudging her nose with mine. She bit her lip and looked up at me with hooded eyes, then she leaned up, pressing her lips on mine, tasting herself on them. I had to grin into the kiss and she slowly pulled back, licking her lips. She pulled our intertwined hands to her lips, kissing my knuckles gently. Smiling her most gorgeous smile, falling back even more into her shy demeanour, she still wore at times. As I adjusted my position above her, my straining crotch, still covered in the race suit, brushed against her heat, and her breathing hitched. She looked down and gulped audibly.

"Take it off…" she said in a hushed tone, her fiery gaze burning a hole in my middle, before she put her hands on my hips, pushing the suit down herself. I helped her, sliding it off, letting it fall onto the floor. Her eyes found mine and she cupped my cheek with her hand, gently caressing it "I love you…" she purred softly and I laid a feathery kiss on her lips, getting more heated with every moment that passed and in that I could feel her soft core beneath my skin. She grabbed my hips, pulling me flush against her, an impatient whine on her lips as she greedily captured my bottom lip between her teeth. I felt my heart racing, my body buzzing all over with anticipation and locked eyes with her, gently freeing my lips from hers. Littering her face and jaw with tiny kisses, as I sucked on her collarbone she arched her back into me and with one last look in her eyes I let my arousal take over, making her moan loudly as our body’s melted into one.

"I love you too…" I muttered out, moaning as her heat clenched around me.

"We could’ve chartered a whole plane for all of us…" Pierre chuckled as I watched almost half the grid settling into their seats, occupying the entire first class.

"True that!" Daniel laughed, plopping down in his seat.

"Just so you guys know I want silence the next 10 hours. Utter and complete silence." Lando groaned and put a sleeping mask and his headphones on.

"And it’s all too much for little Lando Norris." Daniel imitated Crofty and we all laughed.

"I said silence." Lando murred and I cuddled back into my seat.

"Comfy?" Charles asked after a while and I shook my head, taking his hand and cuddling it to my chest.

"Better." I closed my eyes and heard him chuckle.

"Silly girl. Sleep now, we have a hectic day ahead of us." he said, kissing the crown of my head.

"Hectic weekend. And did you see the weather forecast? Damn…" I whispered.

"Yeah I saw it…" Charles said and I felt him tensing up a little.

"Hey, it will be alright, don’t worry, we’ll have a good weekend, you’ll see." I kissed the back of his hand and he smiled a little.

"I hope you’re right." he said and I sat up.

"Forget about Austin. It’s in the past. You’ll do amazing! So come on. Have a little nap with me." I smiled and Charles sighed. I could literally see the wheels turning in his head with how hard he was thinking about the weekend ahead.

"It’s just… I need to proof that I’m better. John Elkann will be in Brazil… he wasn’t supposed to be there, he planned to come to Vegas. But now he’s already in Brazil? What if it is to tell me that they’re not happy with my performance? That they won’t extend my contract?" he whispered and I sat up.

"Stop it now, okay! Why would they do that? They’re not stupid! Austin wasn’t your fault! Stop this nonsense now! He’s coming to Brazil because he wants to, there’s no reason behind it. Period." I looked at him determined and after a while he smiled a little.

Maybe you’re right." he leaned back, taking my hand in his again "What would I do without you?"

"I answered that question before, so you know the answer." I leaned into him, my head on his shoulder.

"I might sink and drown and die."

"Exactly."

"Was that Fred that I saw earlier?" I asked Charles when we walked to the car, late at Saturday night.

"Yeah… he’s here…" he opened my door and I looked at him "He said he wanted to talk to me after the weekend…"

"About what?" I waited for him to get in the car as well.

"He didn’t say about what. Just that we need to talk." Charles looked worried. I saw how he clenched his jaw, his hands gripping the steering wheel so tight, his knuckles turned white.

"It’s going to be okay, you’ll see." I pried his hands away from the steering wheel and made him look at me "Fred loves you. Whatever is going to happen, it’s okay!"

"I hope so." he mumbled and started the car.

We drove in silence but I felt Charles’ anxiety radiating off of him, the tension in his shoulders visible. And although I tried my best to soothe his worries, to calm him down, he was as nervous as ever when he got into the car on Sunday. I watched horrified how he flew off in the formation lap and my stomach was in tight knots the whole race. As soon as I was out of the car, I was looking for him, but he was nowhere to be found.

"You text me as soon as you see him, okay?" I said to Andrea and he nodded, walking back into the Ferrari garage.

"Lizzie, we really have to go now… come on." Julie urged and I followed her to the media pen, where I gave my interviews in the fastest way possible and Julie chuckled when I looked at her after the hopefully last one "Okay, okay, we’re done! You can go and look now for Charles!"

"Thank you!" I almost sprinted away, looking for Joris and Andrea.

"He’s here." the latter said when I stopped in front of the Ferrari hospitality.

"Is he okay? He didn’t answer my texts…" I was slightly out of breath from running.

"He’s umm-… he’s in a meeting with Fred… and I think I saw John Elkann with them as well…" Andrea said slowly and my heart began to race.

"Okay- I mean… I guess I wait then?"

"That’s all we can do now." Andrea smiled at me when I saw Silvia coming our way.

"But you know what? I can wait at Audi as well…" I walked off before the evil witch of the easy reached us, making my way to wait for Charles.

The debrief felt like a whole eternity and when I finally left I saw a text from Charles, saying that I should wait at the car for him. I had a bad feeling and said good night to everyone, walking to the parking lot. My heart was hammering in my chest when two arms engulfed me from behind, but just a second later I relaxed, feeling it was Charles.

"Hey cara mia." he kissed the side of my head, spinning me around.

"You’re smiling?" I asked cautiously and he nodded.

"I’m smiling." he smiled, kissing me.

"What does that mean? Is everything okay?" I asked and he pushed me against the car, kissing me again "Charles!"

"More than okay. Brilliant actually… but I can’t tell you for now. It has to be secret until it’s officially announced…" he smiled brightly, opening the door for me, pushing me inside.

"And what? You think I will spill the beans?" I pouted, right when he closed the door and walked around the car to get in "Am I not trustworthy en-…" he silenced me with another kiss.

"Fred will become team principal next season. My new contract is already drafted…" he began and I squealed.

"Mattia is gone?" I asked and Charles nodded.

"Mattia is gone… well next season…" he said and I did a little happy dance.

"Does that mean that Sainz will be gone as well?" I asked big Charles shook his head.

"They didn’t mention him. And I honestly don’t care. Since Fred joined it was planned for him to take over. That’s why he was so highly involved in the making of next seasons car. It’s his car. And he said it’s the car to win the championship with… or at least he hopes so." his most beautiful, dimple showing smile was back.

"Charles Leclerc, world champion 2024. I called it first." I said happily and he shrugged his shoulders.

"We don’t want to get ahead of ourselves now, cara mia." he chuckled, starting the engine.

"Maybe you don’t… but I will! Mark my words, world champion of 2024, Charles Leclerc, my gorgeous boyfriend." I smiled "Now I’m even more happy for our trip to LA."

"Yeah, me too, it will be great."

Charles POV:

"What are you doing?" I plopped down next to Lizzie on the sun island and she showed me her iPad.

"These are the three options for the kitchen… I love them all, but the third one is my favourite. I always wanted to have an all white kitchen with black hardware but the kitchen island in all black? Waterfall edges of this beautiful white granite with black veins? The same we use for the countertops? Damn Carla really had an amazing idea here."

"That was Carla’s idea?" I asked and she nodded "I have to so, they all look stunning, but yeah, the black island really stands out? What tiles? The other options had tiles."

"I was honestly thinking to use the same granite as backsplash? Like a big fat slab of stone… here…" she tapped on the display and the model changed.

"Yes. 100 % yes. It looks amazing! Wow. Send it to Léon That’s our kitchen." I saw how happy and giddy she was about this decision and kissed her cheek "What else? Tell me you have more!"

"So, we already decided for the guest bathrooms and both powder rooms… but do you want to see my vision for our bathroom?" she asked and I nodded "Okay, here. I saw this bathtub and fell in love. Look at the size of it! Here’s the layout." she showed me the bathroom, the shower, big enough for a handful of people, the two vanities, a dressing table in between and the huge bathtub. It looked perfect.

"Perfect… like honestly! Lizzie you outdone yourself." I pulled her into me, smiling at her blushed cheeks "I can’t wait to move into our home together. It’s going to be so perfect. You are so perfect."

"Oh stop. I had a lot of help from Carla and our mum’s…" she almost whispered and I tilted her head up.

"Yeah but it’s your vision they help you with. You make this place our home." I kissed her, feeling her melting under my touch.

"Oh for fucks sake! Take a room! Ugggghhhh… I’m leaving!" Andrea groaned and I laughed.

"Wait for me, I’m not staying behind with these two lovebirds! Let’s go to Six Flags alone!" Joris said, following Andrea.

"Noooo! Wait for me!" Lizzie scrambled off of me and I huffed.

"Excuse me?" I looked at her.

"Wait for us?" she said meekly and grinned.

"Exactly. Wait for us!" we got up and followed the guys outside.

"I heard you’re excited for all the roller coasters." Lizzie teased Andrea and he laughed nervously "It’s okay. I’ll hold your hand when it get’s scary."

"I can also just wait for you guys…" he began but Lizzie shook her head.

"Nope. You’re coming with us on the rides! It will be fun! Believe me!"

It was fun. For Lizzie. For me. Not for Andre. Also not for Joris. Lizzie made her puppy eyes and made us ride everything there was and the colour from Andrea and Joris’ faces drained with every new ride more and more.

"Cara mia, I think you’ve exhausted them…" I whispered when we drove back to our Airbnb in the evening, the two guys half asleep in the backseat of the car. Lizzie turned and looked at them, one paler than the other.

"I’m sorry boys…" she chuckled, smiling apologetic.

"No you’re not!" Joris groaned.

"I can’t wait for when it’s time to go racing again!" Andrea sighed, leaning his head back "Thank god we’re leaving in two days, before you kill us."

"I’m definitely not getting paid enough for being tortured like that by your girlfriend…" Joris murmured and I had to laugh.

"Oh come on! It wasn’t that bad!" I said and they both looked at me pointedly.

"Your girl is a crazy spitfire and you know it!" Andrea said and I turned to Lizzie, grabbing her hand.

"That she is." I kissed the back of her hand and watched her blush "My girl."

"Coming to you Lizzie, what do you think of the race weekend here in Las Vegas?" Tom Clarkson asked and I looked over at Max, who looked just as disinterested as I felt.

"Honestly? Max said everything there is to say, I don’t have much to add. It’s all a big show for nothing. It’s turning into a circus, gets bigger and bigger when we all come here for one reason only: we want to race. We don’t need all of this stuff around. Events left and right. The sport itself is interesting enough. We don’t need all this bullshit around we get to see here." I said and Max nodded laughing.

"Alright, thank you, Lizzie. We open the floor now for some questions."

I didn’t listen to most of the questions and the ones for me were basically all the same, how I liked it here, what I expected from the race. When I walked out with Max and Charles, Max and I couldn’t even stop shit talking the whole event, leading to Charles rolling his eyes, saying that we were too dramatic.

"No Charlie boy, we’re not dramatic. We want to race. And not get paraded around like a freaking attraction…" I sighed.

"Listen to your girlfriend mate!" Max chuckled as our ways parted and he walked towards the RedBull hospitality.

"You should stop being so negative! Maybe the weekend will be great! I know, the opening ceremony was maybe a little bit too much, I agree but overall? The atmosphere is amazing, don’t you think?" Charles nudged my shoulder.

"Yeah maybe… let’s see how the racing is, you know? Racing? The reason why we’re here?" I looked at him and he pinched my side.

"You’re so funny… not… you’ll see! The racing will be great! How often do we get an entire new track just like that?"

"Umm- just last year in Miami?"

"Oh for fucks sake, Lizzie! Come on! It will be fun! You’ll see!" Charles rolled his eyes.

But what I saw was a messed up Friday on a track that had to be checked entirely for its drain covers and made us wait for for what felt like a whole eternity to come back for free practice 2.

At least the Saturday started better and when Charles made it on pole, a big smile on his face, I decided to swallow down my grudge against the track, because it looked like he was really enjoying racing here in Vegas.

"So? What do you say? Will you be the first winner of the Las Vegas GP?" I asked Charles when we were walking back from the national anthem and he laughed.

"I sure hope so, but you never know, Max is right behind me, then you, Checo… it won’t be easy!"

"And don’t forget Danny Ric! He made it just in time to be ready to race here in Vegas! And he’s starting on P6!" I said right as said driver pushed his way through us.

"Watch it lovebirds…" he chuckled and I slapped his arm.

"Oh you better stop, I saw you yapping all over my sister just an hour ago…" I said and he shrugged his shoulders.

"Don’t know what you’re talking about."

"Yeah yeah, whatever!" Charles laughed and kissed my cheek "Good luck, cara mia, Daniel. Let’s have some fun out there."

Fun? No. Crazy? Yes. The start already saw 4 cars retiring with Checo, Lewis, Norris and Sainz all out of the race. The red flag was waved and George, Oscar and Alonso all had to get some new front wings and tyres. As the race re-started it took only three more laps for the next yellow flag and safety car, Alonso being the fifth car to retire.

"It’s crazy! How many cars are out already? 5?" I radioed.

"Yes 5. Don’t make it 6, focus on your race, please." Pete replied and I chuckled.

"Yeah, yeah…"

I continued, watching Charles and Max battle hard for the race lead.

"Lizzie, red flag, Magnussen out. Careful, there’s a lot of debris." Pete radioed right as I drove over said debris.

"Fuck, I think I’ve damaged my floor. Is Kevin okay?"

"He’s okay. Return to the pits, we need to check your car."

As soon as I was back in the pits and saw Matt’s face when he got up from the floor I knew it was over. I had to retire.

"I’m sorry, Lizzie. It happened so fast, I couldn’t warn you any earlier." Pete apologised as soon as I was out of the car, taking my helmet off.

"It’s alright, it’s not your fault. It sucks but it’s like this." I patted his back.

"Oh wow, Charles 2.0…" he chuckled and I laughed, right when Liam appeared out of nowhere.

"I’m sorry Lizzie." he hugged my waist and I ruffled his hair a little.

"It’s okay, now let’s watch Charlie and Daniel, shall we?" I picked him up and he nodded.

"You have to go the interviews first…" Julie reminded me and I sighed.

"Alright, I’ll be back soon Liam." I kissed his cheek before I put him down on the stool in front of dad, while mum hugged me.

"I’m sorry…" she whispered.

"No, I’m sorry! The first race in a while that you attend and I bottle it."

"You didn’t bottle it. You were unfortunate!" Dad side hugged me and I sighed.

"Yeah, maybe… now let’s hope that Charles wins it and Danny keeps his podium." I shrugged and followed Julie to the media pen.

The interviews were quickly done and on my way back I watched Shima and Joris all cozy in the almost empty Ferrari hospitality. When they saw me they pulled away from each other and I had to laugh. It seemed like she wasn’t here just to see me after all. I walked back into our garage, just in time to see the final lap, Max winning the race, followed by Charles and Daniel.

"He almost won." Liam sighed and I nodded.

"He did. But he had an amazing weekend, just like Danny, we can be proud of them!" I said and he nodded, playing with something in his pocket.

"Can we go to the fence? I want to congratulate them!" Liam said and I smiled.

"Of course, Bubba, let’s go."

I sat Liam on the fence and we looked up at the podium, where Max, Charles and Daniel were spraying the champagne and having a party of their own.

"It’s been a while since I saw him that happy!" Sissy said and I looked at her.

"Oh come on! That’s just a teeny tiny bit more than when he’s with you and Liam!" I said and bumped her shoulder.

"Believe me, that was a mask for a long time… losing his seat was the worst thing that could’ve happen…" she almost whispered it as she looked up again, tears in her eyes. As if Daniel felt that she was looking he turned around, forming a little heart with his fingers and sending it to my sister "Look at this dork!"

I smiled as I saw how my sister blushed. The truth was I’ve never seen her more happy than with Daniel. And with Liam loving him wholeheartedly as well, I knew that she finally found the one. The one that was now approaching us, with the biggest grin on his face, scooping up Liam and whispering something into his ear, the little lad nodding excitedly and handing him something. Daniel handed him over to Charles, who made big eyes as Liam whispered something into his ear. I watched how Daniel swooped up Sissy, twirling her around, saying something to her.

"WHAT?!" she exclaimed loudly and Daniel only nodded and kissed her, then sat her down looking in her eyes "You‘re kidding, right?"

"Hell no! Let’s do it tonight!" he said and took her hand and I almost choked as I saw him slipping a ring onto her finger "Everyone is here! I don’t want to wait a single day! What are you saying?"

"I-I umm…" she looked frantically around, Charles sat Liam down on the ground and he ran up to her.

"Say yes Mummy! YES!" he was overly excited and Charles hugged me from behind, watching what was happening.

"Yes. YES!" Sissy said and Daniel kissed her, before he scooped up Liam and hugged them both.

"What did just happen?" I whispered and Charles kissed my temple.

"Danny Ric just happened." he chuckled and I smiled.

"I don’t even have a dress? This is crazy! Why are we doing this? I mean… come on! We could wait! How are we supposed to plan a wedding in what? 12 hours? It’s the middle of the night? What are we doing?" Sissy was pacing back and forth while Mum, Shima and I just sat there, listening to her rambling.

"It’s Vegas! I think finding a dress won’t be too difficult? Shima’s here, she can fix anything you find into something great! Maybe not your dream wedding dress, but a beautiful one nonetheless? And again, it’s Vegas! This city never sleeps! Planning a wedding shouldn’t be too hard? I mean we are in one of the fanciest hotels already? Let me check if they have a nice location where we can celebrate? Finding a chapel won't be too hard either…" I chuckled and Mum nodded.

"Yeah and it’s not like we’re a whole lot of people? It's doable, maybe it's not the wedding of your dreams… bute he’s the man of your dreams, or not?” she looked at Sissy who smiled.

"You're right! Let’s plan!" she said and sat down.

“Alright, first things first. Guests, I need to know how many people we are to find a location… you and Danny and Liam, his family, that’s 5, us, that’s another 5. Wait I text him if he wants to invite any of the other drivers… alright, let’s talk dresses, Shima that’s your part…" I made a note on my phone, then looked up, Sissy and Mum looking at me with big eyes "What?"

"Nothing… you’re doing great, can I go to bed and you do the rest?"Sissy chuckled and I laughed.

"Nope. You figure out what colours you want, what flowers and stuff like that, while I… oh Danny texted… okay, small wedding, only Max, Christian, his wife and Pierre with Kika… that makes… 18?” I checked my phone and wrote down the names.

"Joris?" Mum said and we all grinned at Shima.
"Yes!" Sissy looked at me and I wrote them down.

"I don’t know why you’re looking at me like that…" Shima mumbled and I laughed.

"Oh shut it… you think you’re subtle, but let me tell you, you’re not… whatever is going on with you and him… we know… so 19."

"Whatever… dresses… I know some designers from here, I text them, let’s see what we can organise? I mean, it’s 2am they won’t answer until the morning, but yeah…" Shima began typing away on her phone.

"Alright, I need a time, when do we start?"

I looked at Sissy and Mum.

"Umm-… maybe 6pm? So everyone can have a little sleep, maybe? I mean, it won’t be a big and long ceremony? It’s Vegas, after all it’s going to be fast and funny?" Sissy said and I nodded.

"Okay… so we are… 19 people? Yeah? That’s doable I guess. I go downstairs to check the front desk… ask them if they have like a little ball room? I don’t know? Something fitting for a wedding? You think about dresses and I don’t know, colours? Food? The other stuff…" I got up.

"What other stuff?" Mum asked and I shrugged.

"I don’t know, you’re married, you planned your wedding, so you know what to do…" I left the room, right when Charles called.

"Hows the wedding planning going?" he asked and I laughed.

"I’m on my way to the front desk, asking for a room and someone who can marry them…"

"Elvis might be a good option." Charles laughed.

"Very original- ha ha… no seriously. Maybe they offer like an all inclusive last minute deal? I don’t know… we’re roughly 20 people, it should be organisable, no?" I sighed a little, leaning against the elevator wall "When are you coming back?"

"Soon, we’re just trying on some suits, Danny found a tailor that’s still open, Vegas, I swear… is the dress shopping also this easy?"

"Shima knows some designers from here, she contacted them, but yeah, probably the real process starts in the morning, but it’s fine, we get there." I yawned a little, entering the lobby "Text me when you’re in your way back, I’m at the front desk now."

"Alright, cara mia, see you later!" he hung up and I walked up to the front desk.

"Good morning, Miss Doetterer, how can I help you?" the lady said and smiled at me.

"Umm- this might sound crazy… but I need a room, location, whatever to held a wedding. Ceremony, reception, party all in one place would be amazing. For around 20 people, today at 6pm?" I said cautiously, expecting the blondes smile to drop.

"Oh believe me, this isn’t even close to the craziest things I’ve been asked for in the past… this is Las Vegas after all, planning a wedding in less than… 15 hours? We can do that." she said, her smile got even brighter "Is it for you and Mr. Leclerc then?"

"What? Oh no- no! It’s for my sister and Danny Ric… umm Daniel Ricciardo." I said hastily and she nodded.

"Very well, let’s plan your sister’s one of a kind Las Vegas wedding then."

"Man, I love Vegas. Let’s plan!"

As I watched my sister and Daniel share their first dance as husband and wife I had to smile. We did it. We planned an amazing wedding. The room looked elegant and classy. The cake looked delicious. The flowers were beautiful. But above all Sissy looked stunning. The dress Shima organised and altered here and there was simple, classy and timeless. Liam in his mini suit running around, looking adorable as ever was just the tip of the iceberg.

"Did I mention before how beautiful you look? That dress is just… wow… what a nice little black dress." Charles whispered in my ear, spinning me around, standing behind me.

"You look not to bad yourself, handsome." I chuckled and he hugged me from behind.

"I’m proud of you. You did all that in less than what? 12 hours?" Charles said, putting his chin on my shoulder, swaying us a little.

"The hotel did most of the job, I told them what we wanted, Sissy said the colours and flowers, Shima took care of the dress and Mum took care of the menu. Given all the input to the hotel, they did the biggest chunk of work." I shook my head a little.

"But you were managing it. And you did amazing. It’s a beautiful wedding. Makes me wonder-…" he stopped abruptly and I turned my head a little.

"Makes you wonder what?" I looked at him.

"Makes me wonder how our wedding will be one day… when you have time to plan it for weeks… considering what you did in a couple of hours."

"To find that out, you need to ask me to marry you first." I chuckled.

"Oh, don’t worry cara mia… I’m planning to." he kissed my cheek and then winked at me, before he left, picking Liam up who tried to have a go at the cake "Little munchkin, you have to wait!"

"But I want now some cake! It looks so fluffy and yummy!" Liam pouted.

"You’ll get your slice, don’t worry! You just have to wait a little!" Charles laughed and Liam sighed.

"Okay… but cakes are the best thing at parties, we should eat them first." he grumbled and walked off, climbing in dad’s lap, probably lamenting his suffering.

Liam was right, the cake was just what he said. Fluffy and yummy. After his second slice and some more dancing mum and dad, bid their farwell, taking Liam with them, right when some waiters brought in a couple of new bottles of champagne.

Daniel grabbed a bottle and began shaking it, before he banged it on the table

"I’d say, let’s party!" Danny popped the bottle and the night began with champagne showers.

Pain. A mind-numbing, throbbing pain. Like someone was scratching at my eyeballs from the insides, a jackhammer doing its worst inside my brain. My stomach began to churn and I groaned, trying to untangle my legs from the sheets and Charles legs, his arms holding me tight around the waist.

"Charles… let go of me…" I whispered, a loud snore my answer "Charles I’m serious… I have to…"

"What is it?" he groaned.

"Have to… throw up…" was the only thing I could manage to breathe out when he let go of me immediately and I stumbled out of bed, tripping over something on the floor "Fuck." I crawled to the bathroom, making it just in time to empty my stomach into the toilet.

"Lizzie? Are you okay?" Charles hoarse voice wafting through the fog in my brain.

"Peachy. Just peachy." I mumbled, slowly getting up from the floor rinsing my mouth "I need…"

"What do you need?"

"I don’t know…" I splashed cold water in my face, feeling some short lived relief from the drumming inside my head "I need pain killers…" I grabbed two hand towels and soaked them in cold water, wrung them out and stumbled back to bed, tripping again over something on the floor.

"What the fuck…" I groaned.

"What the fuck…" the something hissed.

"Pierre?" I sat up, blinking

"Yeah?" he mumbled and Charles switched on the night stand lamp.

"What the fuck are you doing on the floor? In our room?" Charles asked, his voice groggy.

"Don’t know. Don’t care. Switch the light off." he turned away, pulling his blanket over his head.

"There’s a couch. Sleep there!" I whispered but saw how he shook his head.

"Floor is cold. Good for my head." he mumbled and I sighed.

"Alright…" I slowly scrambled back to the bed and climbed in, letting the cold towel

flop on Charles face, he flinched but chuckled a little.

"Thanks, cara mia." he moved over and kissed my cheek.

Half sitting, half laying I rummaged through my bag on the nightstand, looking for some painkillers and popped out a pill as soon as I found them, swallowing it down with some water.

"What happened last night?" I whined, lying back, covering my forehead with the cold towel.

"Your sister and Danny Ric got married." Charles yawned.

"Fuck yes they did!" Pierre laughed on the floor.

"And why are we half dead?" I asked.

"Because none of us knows their limit apparently…" Charles groaned.

"Nope." Pierre half laughed half snored "Can we now maybe be quiet for a bit? My head hurts…"

"Here…" I grabbed the painkillers, popped another pill out and threw the blister then at him, followed by a bottle of water rolled over the floor.

"Ouch!" Pierre whined, when the bottle was stopped by his head "Thank you…"

"Here, for you…" I handed Charles a pill.

"You’re an angel." he kissed my cheek and turned around, grabbing his water.

"What are you even doing in our room, Pierre?" I asked, watching him all sprawled out on the floor, cheeks smushed into the cold marble floor.

"I don’t know… we were at the wedding. We were gambling… we were drinking… we were at a club… we were drinking… we were gambling… I remember In’and’Out Burger and then this cute little white house where we took some pictures. And I swear Elvis was there as well…"

"I wouldn’t say no to a burger…" I whispered and Charles chuckled.

"You get one as soon as we get up…" he kissed my shoulder "Which will be soon… our flight is in a couple of hours."

"How much time do we have left?" I yawned.

"Wait… our flight is at 4… and now it’s… it’s almost 12!" Charles sat up and I flinched "Fuck… sorry, cara mia. But we have to pack, get ready and…"

"For fucks sake! We have time! Shut up now…" Pierre groaned.

"Not agreeing how he said it, but agreeing with what he said…" I shrugged, pulling the blanket over my head "30 minutes… come on…"

"30 minutes! Not one minute longer!"

I sighed contently and closed my eyes. Feeling the throbbing in my head subsiding slowly as the cold towel did its job. The loud snores from Pierre were the only disturbance and as I turned to grab one of the pillows beside the bed to throw at him, I touched my phone the screen illuminating half the room and my look fell on the time.

"FUCK! FUCK!" I shouted, Charles and Pierre both flinching and sitting up "We overslept! It’s almost 2!"

"FUCK!" both boys exclaimed.

Pierre scrambled up, trying to stand looking around like a lost puppy.

"Where is my keycard? Why am I even here." he groaned, searching through his pockets "Fuck."

"Call Kika!" I suggested and Pierre took out his phone, calling his girlfriend.

"Okay, let’s pack…" Charles mumbled, opening up our suitcases, throwing in everything he could find "Here…" he threw one of his hoodies at me, while I grabbed some fresh clothes "Get ready in the bathroom, I handle this mess…"

"Hey! I’m no mess!" Pierre looked at him and I chuckled, disappearing into the bathroom.

My vision was still blurry and I sat down on the bathtub edge, brushing my teeth. I stripped off my clothes, put on some socks and leggings before I washed my face. As soon as the second wave of cold water hit my face and I wiped my eyes I looked in the mirror, my eyes immediately falling on the ring on my left ring finger.

"What the fuck…" I gulped, starring at the silver ring.

"Yeah… what the fuck…" Charles walked slowly inside, holding up his left hand, the same ring adorning his finger.

"What the fuck happened last night…"

Chapter 41 - I hope you guys are feeling as hot after reading, as me when I was writing it 🤭 the infamous Las Vegas race giving us really everything there was to get, including one (two?!) wedding(s) … 👀

Please leave a comment/ like/ reblog/ message and tell me how you liked it! I'm dying to hear your thoughts!

If you want to be added to the taglist, drop a comment!

Last but not least, English is not my first language and although I tried my best: please excuse any mistakes I made!

Taglist:

@silkenthusiasts @eugene-emt-roe @sunny44 @itsjustkhaos @glitterquadricorn @aundercover @kakorrhaphiphobia @alittlebitofbooksandmagic @ru-kru @shimmermotorsport @janeholt3 @kahhorri @18754389 @chiliwhore @hellowgoodbye @queensassybitchsworld @harrysdimple05 @skynel09

[clean-bands-dirty-stories]

Theoretically ~ P.P.

A/n: And another request!!

Request: “Male reader x Andrew Pete, After a long day of thinking about it and wondering if he and Peter were ready, reader proposes?” By anon

Word Count: 1800+

MASTERLIST

It had started slowly, but Y/n had realized after it had been going on for a while so it had felt sudden and startling.

First there had been the exact moment kisses between them had become casual. They weren't startling and didn't make him jump, heart racing. Peter would be on his way out the door and would say goodbye, leaving a kiss on Y/n's mouth very quickly before dipping. And that felt right. He'd sink into the feeling, his chest warm, but it wasn't buzzing and burning like it used to be.

Then it was the increased PDA. Peter had always been repressed and reserved, hating attention and confrontation unless he had his mask on. But they'd gotten slowly into the habit of having little to no personal space, and being generally touchy. One day, Peter didn't take Y/n's hand just "to show him something" and then drop it when someone looked over. Another day Y/n stared lovingly as long as he wanted and Peter never made a joke about it. After that, Peter lay his head on Y/n's shoulder on the subway and sighed, relaxed. When they kissed, grinning, on the side walk waiting for the light to change for them Y/n knew it was okay to do that more often.

Those were followed by the casual way Peter referred to Y/n as his boyfriend. Even spoke about "his boyfriend." Before he'd said "partner," brushing it away that he was dating someone of the same gender. He wouldn't use Y/n's name even when people knew who he was talking about. And then one day he introduced Y/n as his boyfriend - something he'd heard later from MJ.

The day it clicked was when Peter got caught up in an especially rough back and forth with Doc Oc, who had kidnapped Y/n in an attempt to hurt Peter. It wasn't the first time it had happened, and the panic afterward had been tangible, but Peter didn't implode like he so often had. He was focused on Y/n, tending to him and reassuring him he was safe. And he didn't blame himself or hate on himself or push Y/n away. It was... startling, honestly, when Peter wrapped around him instead and whispered a simple, "I'm sorry this Spider-Man stuff caught up to you."

Y/n ran his hands through his boyfriend's hair, and realized that he was home to Peter, the same way Peter was home to him. That they couldn't have denied each other even if they wanted to. Even if they'd have tried. They both knew it.

And he smiled, realizing that maybe they hadn't said it yet, but this probably meant they were in love after all. And they'd been in love for a while, so much more than a young romance. They'd be together for a very long time.

"I knew what I was getting into, Peter," he reassured softly. "I know we'll always figure it out. Together." He sighed. "Plus, now you know how I feel every day."

Peter nodded. "That's fair."  And that was it. No argument, no anger, no spiral.

The confession of love had followed soon after.

When Y/n got a succulent and Peter started calling it Jimmy, and referring to them as Jimmy's dad, something settled deeply into Y/n's chest. He wanted to do this forever. He wanted to be with Peter for the rest of his life.

That was a terrifying thought.

Peter had been getting better. A little more grounded, and much more experienced. Every day he was softer with himself. Every day he opened up more, and let Y/n help when he could. Every day he smiled more, laughed more. Every day he showed Y/n off more, being proud they were together and being loud about it too. They moved in together, and after that everything was theirs - not individually Peter's or Y/n's. Like they never had to worry about moving out or going separate ways or breaking up. Like this space was theirs and it always would be, even it it was a different space.

It was the teasing look in May's eyes as she grinned at Y/n over the cup of tea she was drinking that was the last straw. She put her cup down and in a gentle voice, began, "You want to ask me something?"

Y/n blushed. "You saw through me then."

May raised an eyebrow, her smile teasing. "In the years you've been with Peter, your worst fear as been time and again proved to be imposing on me. You only ever come by when I invite you, with Peter, or explicitly to help with something. I've never seen you ask to come over completely unprompted with nothing else in mind but spending time together." She leans back in her chair. "Not that I'm complaining."

Rubbing the back of his neck, he got sheepish. "I'm sorry May. I don't mean to be around so little."

She waves her hand back and forth, and if to scatter the words in the air. "Don't he silly. I don't take it personally. You should come over more often though." She took another sip of her drink. "But that's not what you're here to talk about."

Y/n swallows hard, interlacing his fingers so he can hold onto something as he begins. "You know Peter so well," he began. May nodded; Y/n had come to her asking advice several times now. "I was thinking... maybe..." He cleared his throat, nervous. Once he said this to May it was in stone. Was he ready? Was Peter? "Do you think Peter is the marriage type?"

May froze, eyes wide. Y/n went solid and still as stone, only breathing again when May's shock flipped to glee. "You're thinking of proposing."

Okay. This was a good sign. "I was thinking about it," Y/n said slowly. "But I don't know if Peter would... want to. Or if it's too soon. Or if there's too much going on already with the whole Spider-Man thing." He shrugged, running his hand through his hair.

May nodded again, mulling Y/n's concern over. Every day Y/n thanked god she actually considered things rather than just jumping to "I want to see my boy married" like some aunts had before. It was a relief to know he could trust what she would say next.

"Have you talked to him about it?"

And sometimes Y/n wished she wasn't quite so good at what she did.

"Well-"

May cocked an eyebrow, her expression turning into something akin to 'you know what I'm going to say.' And it was true. Y/n did. He let her say it anyway. "I can't speak for my nephew, Y/n."

"I know," he sighed. "But I don't want to go in blind or jump the gun or scare him away-"

May chuckled. "That boy has seen more than I could even imagine." She paused for a second. "Normal things do scare him more than any villain in a suit could. But he's better about it than he used to be. And if you eased him into it, or took your shot, and we're ready for some possible rejection and not take it personally, it could be fine."

And there it was. The real reason Y/n was stressed. Because sure, Peter might not be ready, but if he wasn't and he ran and Y/n was crushed it could lead to the end of their relationship. They could both react very poorly...

This would mean Y/n would have to do it somewhere privately. It would have to be very low pressure, open minded. Understanding. Gentle. And it was a little heartbreaking that was the case. Y/n wanted to be a little loud, a little dramatic. And he would have to let that go.

May reached over, taking Y/n's hand. "It also doesn't have to be now. It should be when you're ready. The moment will come, and you'll know. You should only do it then." Her gaze was so soft and patient that Y/n could only absorb what she was saying directly into his soul. "Don't try to make a perfect moment. Let one come."

That advice stayed with Y/n until the moment came. He thought it had a few times but then it wouldn't quite pan out, or something would interrupt them or they'd need to stopper what they were doing and table it for later - when they moment was gone. But one day they were laying in bed, out of breath and grinning after Peter had stolen Y/n’s favorite jacket and Y/n had tried to take it back by force. Peter was much stronger than Y/n of course, and had plenty abilities to overwhelm him, but decided to play fair and shenanigans had turned into raucous laughter that had stolen both of their breath away.

Y/n looked at Peter and something warm and sweet touch him. May’s words came back to him full force in that moment and he was stunned to realize-

This was the moment.

“Will you marry me?” Peter turned, eyes wide, and immediately Y/n panicked. “Maybe not know. We don’t have to say now. But maybe one day.” His voice got dry when suddenly Peter took him by the face, kissing him.

The kiss was king and deep and passionate. Y/n felt something wet ion his cheek and realized Peter was crying.

When it ended, Peter pressed their foreheads together. “You’ve been so patient with me. I know you have. I know I’m not… easy. But I’m yours, and that was always enough for you.” He chuckled, seeming near giddy. Y/n felt his throat close with how much hope swelled in his chest. “I would love to maybe you. We can figure exactly when and how. Is that okay? If we don’t know exactly when?”

Y/n melted, raising a hand to run over Peter’s jaw. “I would marry you anywhere, any day, in any way that we could muster. Even if no one was there. Even if no one knew.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “You cheese ball.”

“Your cheese ball.” Y/n beamed. “For the rest of our lives?” It was timid, hopeful.

Peter sighed. “For the rest of our lives.”

Neither would ask more than that.

-

Male Readers: @ravenpuff-oli @sortzz @fadedver

[topguncortez]

Ice comforting gooses sister after his death. Maybe with a touch of people blaming him for the accident

- @topgun-imagines

When We Were Young | | T. Kazansky

Masterlist | Iceman Masterlist

synopsis: Tom Kazansky isn't a man who lives with many regrets. . . but this has to be one of them, and sadly, you get wrapped up right in it.

word count: 2.1k

warnings: character death, tears, depression, angst, probably grammar and spelling errors.

note: maybe possible blurb night?? I don't have to work tonight and I actually feel inspiration:) i also did just hit 5.3k:)))

Ice felt like the weight of the world was on his shoulders.

He knew what he did. He knew that he should’ve gotten out of there when Maverick told him. He knew that he didn’t have that shot lined up, but there was just something about Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell that got into his head and made him act reckless. And because of that, Iceman had to hold you up from crashing to the ground as you got the phone call from Carole that your brother was dead.

Ice knew that the two of you had an unbreakable bond. Your mother had passed when she gave birth to you, and your dad was in no shape to take care of you. So, it all fell onto Goose, who was just eight years old at the time. I’ve had always wished to have the type of brother-sister bond that you and Goose had. I’ve hated his siblings and wanted nothing to do with them.

Ice knew the moment that he watched Goose’s early ejection that he gone, but he didn’t have the heart to tell you. He wasn’t even sure if it would’ve been easier to hear it from him or not. Your knees had gone weak and sobs racked your body as you begged Carole to tell you that it wasn’t true. That somehow, someway the Navy had gotten it wrong. That they called and told the wrong Carole Bradshaw that the wrong Nicholas ‘Goose’ Bradshaw was dead.

When Ice decided he had enough of you sobbing uncontrollably on the kitchen he floor, he walked over to you, and gently put a hand on your shoulder.

“Baby, you need to breathe,” Ice said, as he gently pulled the receiver from your hand. Carole had long since hung up and the dial tone “C’mon, let’s get you to bed.”

He picked you up like you were nothing, carrying you with ease to your shared bed room for the time being. He changed you out of the clothes you were wearing, and slid on one of his Navy PT shirts, that was more of a dress than a shirt on you. He held you tightly against his chest, feeling the wetness from your eyes hit his skin. Ice ran circles up your back until the sobs faded to quiet whimpers.

--- --- ---

“They said it was quick.” Carole’s voice was barely above a whisper as you sat next to her in the day room of the barracks.

It hadn't even been twenty-four hours yet, and she had invited you to come with her to gather Goose's things. Carole wasn't sure that she could keep up a brave face in front of Bradley by herself, but you weren't sure if you were going to be much help either. It had only been about three hours since you had your last cry sesh, and you were feeling that all too familiar burning sensation in your chest again.

"I guess that's good," You muttered, looking over at Bradley who was flipping through the pages of some magazine which you weren't all too sure wasn't a Playboy.

"He was gone before he hit the water," Carole scoffed, "You know he always had a fear of the ocean ever since that trip to-"

"I know."

You didn't mean to cut Carole off, but you couldn't sit here and tell happy stories while your brother's best friend was collecting all of his things to give to his widow.

Hell, it didn't even feel right to call Carole a widow. The woman had barely turned 30.

It was silent for a moment, before Carole spoke up, "How was Ice last night?"

The sound of your boyfriend's callsign from her lips caught your attention, as you looked up from Bradley.

"Why do you ask?"

"He was in the air with Mav and Goose when. . . when it happened."

Now this was news to you.

But then you realized, you hadn't even bothered to see how this was affecting your boyfriend. Goose was the one who introduced the two of you back when he was at the academy. He tried doing the whole "older brother, stay away from my little sister" bit, but it was no use against Tom Kazansky's killer smile and your soft baby cow like brown eyes. Tom "Iceman" Kazansky was smitten from the moment he laid eyes on you and it had been history ever since.

"Did he say something to you?" You quietly asked Carole.

"I. . ." Carole started, and then sighed, "Maverick said something when he came and saw us. He said it was a mistake, that it was a stupid error. That he should've known-"

It was as if he knew they were discussing him, Iceman pulled the door to the day room open, standing in the doorway. He was dressed in his service khakis, ribbon rack and gold plating all perfectly shined. But you weren't looking at his perfectly done dress uniform, no, you were looking at the sad look in his baby blue eyes.

"Tom," Carole greeted, standing up from her chair. If there was one thing about Carole Bradshaw, it was that she was a hugger. It didn't matter if she was literally going through hell, she was going to hug you either way.

"Hi Carole," Ice greeted the woman, giving her a quick squeeze, before releasing her, "You guys been here long?" He was looking right at you, but you weren't sure what to even say to him. It had been a game of Tom Talks and you just look at him for the past couple days.

Carole looked between the two of you, before clearing her throat, "No, not long. Maverick is just gathering Goose's things," She turned to look at Ice again, "You should wait with us," She said softly to him.

Iceman nodded and walked over to where you were sitting with Bradley. The little boy smiled and reached for the man he considered another uncle. Usually, the sight of Iceman and Bradley made your heart do jumping jacks, but right now, it was as if a boa constrictor had found its way around it.

The four of you waited in painful silence, you staring at the silent movie playing on TV, until the door opened again, and Maverick stepped inside. Carole had managed to keep her tears at bay until she saw her husband's best friend.

Maverick, for lack of better words, looked like utter hell. His green eyes were full of sadness and guilt. He looked as though he hadn't slept a wink in days, and was about to collapse on the spot. In his hand, he held a simple copy paper box that had been filled with the rest of Goose's stuff. A Naval Officer had come by the day before and took all the things that rightfully belonged to the Department of the Navy.

"God, he loved flying with you, Maverick," Carole said, her voice cracking. You and Ice stood up, as Carole got out of her chair to greet him. She wrapped her arms around him, giving him a tight hug. You couldn't help the pang in your chest as he handed Carole the box.

"But he would've done it anyway... without you," Carole sighed, "He'd have hated it, but he would've done it." Maverick nodded. Carole gave him one more hug and a kiss on the cheek, before turning around and holding her hand out to Bradley, who ran to his mother in an instant. Her blues eyes looked up at you, and she gave you a sad smile, "We'll wait for you."

All you could do was nod. Leave it to Carole Bradshaw to know that you needed the truth more than anyone in this room. Once the door was shut and Carole was out of earshot, you looked at the two men standing in the room.

"What happened?" You asked.

"Baby, I already told-"

"No," You cut Tom off, and looked over at Maverick, "What happened?"

The brunette man gulped, looking quickly at Ice, before looking at you, "Ice was trying to take a shot on a boogey, but he was taking too long to get missile lock on it. I had the perfect shot lined up, but Ice needed to move out. I kept telling him to take the shot or move, but he wouldn't. And when he finally did, it was too late. We were in his jet wash. I lost control, went into a flat spin. . ." Maverick shook his head and looked at his shoes, "The ejection failed. Goose hit his head on the canopy. Killed him instantly."

Your brown eyes were filled with tears as you turned to look at Tom, whose jaw was clenched tightly, his eyes filled with regret and guilt.

"It was an accident-"

"If that's what you choose to believe," Maverick spat, "I think you were trying to teach me something and you got my best friend killed."

"I had the shot!"

"No you didn't!"

"Maybe, if you hadn't been flying so god damn close and not trying to swoop in and-"

"Oh piss off, Kazansky, you've been waiting for your moment to-

"Enough!" You yelled. Both men looked at you shocked that you had raised your voice. Compared to Goose, you were always the quiet one, sticking to stay in the corner while Goose liked to bet he center of attention.

"Baby, let's go-" Tom reached out to you, but you pushed away from him, "Y/N. . ."

You couldn't say it out loud, you were afraid of your heart would break in your chest. Instead, you shook your head and turned to Maverick.

"Take me home?"

The brown haired pilot nodded, putting his arm around your shoulders and ushered you out of the room.

Ice couldn't help the burning sensation of tears that welled up in his throat. He had heard the whispers of his fellow classmates for the past couple days. He knew what they were thinking, but to hear it said out loud, in front of the one person he didn't want knowing about what had happened that fateful day in the air, broke him. Tom knew he was already branded as ice cold, and now he was sure that he would never escape it.

Ice stood in the silent room for a moment, before turning on his heel and going back to work.

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