#peter’s coat needs a good press

[silverfoxstole]

Peter and Paul with Steven Ricks, the extremely talented man responsible for their costumes, at Comic Con in Telford back in November. From Steven’s Instagram.

[luveline]

Hiiiiii!!!!!!! I recently got back into criminal minds and devoured all ur hotch fics like a MANIAC (you write. So unbelievably well. Im also in love w ur tasm peter stuff, you are just such a good writer thru and thru) and that one request where Jack calls reader mom for the first time really stuck w me so I was wondering if maybe I could request smth of the opposite? Like not-so-single mom!reader and hotch have been dating for a while and her lil girl calls him dad for the first time :3 🖤🖤

thank you for requesting! 💌 —your daughter calls Hotch dad for the first time. fem, 2k

“Come in, come in!” Hotch says, the door held ajar by his arm, forcing you to squeeze in and save the heat. “Quickly, honey, please, get out of the rain.” 

Sarah bursts in through the door and away from the rain, her vinyl coat covered in raindrops, her boots wet with mud. “Aaron!” she says, pulling it into something softened and excited at once, though her ‘r’s are weak, closer to ‘w’s. “I missed you.” She jumps from one foot to the other. 

He makes sure you’re safely inside before he abandons you. It’s not very kind to you, but he can’t help himself. “Sarah,” he says, without your daughter’s sweetness but heavily fond, “I missed you more, honey. How many days has it been?” 

“Four!” she says, holding up four fingers as Hotch grabs her by the waist. 

He doesn’t mind her wet coat, working an arm around and beneath her to shuck off her muddy shoes. They topple to the ground to unveil damp socks. 

“Oh, no, your socks are wet. I did all the laundry while we were waiting, I have some warm ones for you in the dryer. Should we get you out of this coat?” 

“Where’s Jack?” you ask. 

“Eating. He was starving, couldn’t wait.” 

You kick your shoes off and gather them with Sarah’s to line up by the door. Hotch takes off Sarah’s coat with some one-armed manoeuvring, aware of her smiley gaze following his every move. 

“I,” you say, pressing a swift kiss to his cheek, cold lips to his rough skin, “am gonna go to the toilet really quickly. Hi, handsome.” 

He savours your kiss and watches you go. He owes you a better greeting, he missed you just as much as he missed your girl. For now, he wipes the cold from Sarah’s cheeks and stations her comfortably on his navel. 

He loves her like his own. He’s privileged to get the opportunity, and it’s hard not to feel that low level of awe whenever she’s around, because she loves him the same way. Sarah waits for him to smile before she wraps her arms around his neck, long enough to twine her fingers in the short hair she finds there. 

It’s funny to love someone you had no hand in bringing into the world, but no less real. He’d do anything for Sarah. I miss you doesn’t cover it, but it’s a start. “I missed you,” he murmurs, not well-versed in baby talk but always willing to try for his kids. “It’s so nice to see you. Jack missed you too, should we go see him? I can change your socks.” 

He ushers her back enough to see her. She has such loving eyes, not shy at all as she nods her head. “Can you make crackers?” 

He beams. “Oooh, yes. Crackers and cheese and apple slices, I know what you want, honey. It’s ready for you in the kitchen.” 

Things weren’t easy at first for either you nor Hotch. He works too much, and you both have priorities that can’t be shifted, but the connection between you was easy. Love, undoubtedly, pretty much the moment you met, even if it scared him. He never thought he’d get a second chance and he’s not sure you thought you’d find yours either, and yet loving you has been as helpless as loving your daughter. He doesn’t have a choice and he doesn’t want one. 

In this time, you’ve found routine. He’s introduced the idea of moving in together and you’re excited for it, though concrete plans haven’t been laid. There’s a lot of questions and no need to rush into answering them yet. He has no intentions of letting you go now —Hotch will do anything it takes to keep his small family. 

Today, right now, that’s crackers. 

“Sarah!” Jack says when he sees them, jumping off of his chair to climb on top of it. He holds his hands out and Hotch leans down with a loving laugh to let his son hug her. “You’re back!” 

“I’m back,” she agrees. 

“Do you want some of my sandwiches? Daddy made me two.” 

“Yes!” she says, wiggling to be put down and given what he’s promising. 

Hotch fights to take her to the sink and wash her little hands, to her horror and whining. He says, “Okay, okay, I’m sorry, sweetheart, but you gotta wash your hands before you eat.” 

He puts her in her own chair, and it is Sarah’s chair, outfitted with a big pillow so she can see the table and marked by a pink star sticker, putting a placemat in front of her. Jack quickly pushes one of his sandwiches towards her. “There you go.” 

“Thank you, Jackers,” she says. 

Hotch smiles. Despite their different interests and ages, they’re quick to get along. 

He shouldn’t pry while you’re in the bathroom, but he worries about you. “Honey?” he calls up the stairs. 

“I’m just changing!” 

“Yeah? Can you bring some socks for Sarah, please?” 

You shout back something incomprehensible. He returns to the kitchen, where Sarah looks over the chair with pleading eyes and asks, “Crackers?” a piece of lettuce stuck to her chin. 

“Ah,” he says showfully, turning to the fridge to grab the plate of crackers, sliced cheese, and apples he’d Saran wrapped an hour ago. He peels off the wrapping and places it in front of her. “Here, sweetheart. Do you want anything else? Maybe some chips?” 

She laughs and grabs a piece of apple without answering him. 

“What about you, sweetheart? Drink?” he asks Jack. 

“Yes please, daddy.” 

Hotch makes Jack a cup of orange juice and Sarah a sippy cup, hers diluted some with water. He places them down in front of the kids, crouching between their chairs, intending to stay and chat. “How’s that?” he asks, tilting his head to the side to listen for your light footsteps on the stairs.  

“Thanks, daddy,” Jack says. 

“Thank you, daddy,” Sarah echoes, reaching for him. Hotch offers his hand, startled, not quick enough to hide it. She doesn’t pay any mind to his expression, pleased to have her hand held and her big plastic plate of crackers to munch on. 

“Why’d you look like you’ve seen a ghost?” you ask, passing him Sarah’s socks, and rounding the table to stand by Jack's other side. “Hi,” you add, ruffling Jack’s hair, “look at you, gorgeous, you got your hair cut.” 

Hotch rubs Sarah���s knuckles, trying to phrase it, not sure how to tell you with the kids still there. Will Sarah feel embarrassed if he brings it up so swiftly? Will she feel like she’s done something wrong? Will you? 

“What’s wrong?” you ask. 

He decides to present you with the situation. He’s not manipulative, but clever. “Mommy got your socks, too. Can we take these cold ones off, is that okay?” 

“Yes, please,” Sarah says.

You watch in confusion. Hotch gives you a quick look. Trust me for a second. 

He eases the socks off of her feet, laughs when she laughs at his tickling, even if he’s not quite sure how to feel. Happy, he gives her toes a squeeze and bunches a sock up to pull it over her heel and up to her ankle. “One,” he says, repeating the process with the same tenderness. “Two. There we go, all warm again, Sarah.” 

“Thanks, daddy.” 

You breathe in. 

Sarah puts some cheese on a cracker and offers it to Hotch, who eats it while you summon him away with silent parent talk. He kisses her forehead and wipes it clean as he goes. 

“Did she do that when I was upstairs?” you ask quietly. 

Hotch knows you. Loves you, but knows you intrinsically. He knows just by looking at you that you’re happy, but you’re worried about something, and it’s not hard to guess what it is: he might not want Sarah to call him daddy, and telling her not to might break her heart, and yours too. 

“She did.” 

“She’s never… expressed that interest to me.” 

“Sometimes they think about things more than we know.” Jack still surprises him as he did when he was a toddler.

“She just loves you,” you say. 

“I love her. She can call me whatever she wants to.” 

You hold his wrist, taking a step closer to him. “Are you sure?” 

“Of course I’m sure.” He murmurs now you’re close, ducking his head to yours, two halves of the same heart looking at one another’s hands. “I love her more than anything in the world. I want to make her crackers for the rest of my life.” Hotch puts his index finger to the soft skin under your chin. “Maybe by tomorrow she’ll forget she called me daddy and she’ll never say it again, but… I want her to. Is that okay?” he asks. 

You lean up to kiss him and you nod into his lips, which makes it hard but not impossible to kiss back. “She loves you so much,” you say quietly. You’d only wanted a quick peck. 

He might’ve said he loves her more than anything, but there’s a level on which he holds her and Jack where you sit too. He loves you. You made Sarah who she is all by yourself, and you’re so lovable standing in his reach. You’re perfect. 

Maybe he’s feeling sweet because Sarah called him daddy. 

“I think Jack confused her,” he says. 

“Maybe. You are, you know, her dad. You do everything a dad would.” 

Hotch slots his leg between yours and leans back to force you into his favourite kind of hug. You laugh slowly, hug the same, your arms sliding up over his shoulders to wrap behind his head, your hand cupping his hair. 

He closes his eyes and feels your waist. 

“You don’t have to worry,” he says. 

“I don’t worry about you and Sarah, I know you love her. I guess I just worry about us. Not that you don’t love me, Aaron.” 

“Big changes,” he guesses in a whisper. 

“Big changes.” 

He encourages you away to hold your face. He hopes that waiting with you in quiet for a while can explain it better than words. 

Your shoulders finally relax. 

[t1oui]

@jegulus-microfic | may 3rd: rush | 727 words

“Do I look alright?” James asks for the hundredth time. His voice sounds funny. “Merlin, do I sound alright? What am I even supposed to say?”

Sirius marches over to him, forcefully grabbing his shoulders and turning him around, away from the mirror.

“You say nice things,” he says sternly. “Because he is my baby brother.”

Sirius has been very supportive, James thinks.

“Right,” he agrees. His voice sounds a bit better now. Sirius nods.

“Don’t worry, Prongs,” Remus says, wandering over from his desk by the windows. “He’s crazy about you already.”

Sirius punches him in the arm. “My baby brother,” he says, an aggressive reminder. Remus holds his hands up in surrender. He turns back to James, waving his wand to cast a tempus. “Best get going,” he says. “You don’t want to be late.”

James checks the time: 10:53. Fuck. He’s supposed to be in the entrance hall by 11.

“Fuck,” he says out loud. Remus snorts. Sirius narrows his eyes.

“You better make this good, Potter,” he almost snarls. Remus places a hand on his shoulder to calm him. Peter rolls his eyes. He’s behind them, so only James can see.

“Bye,” James calls. It’s still warm enough out that he doesn’t need a coat. A little chilly, sure, but James has always run warm. He knocks on one of the wooden columns of Peter’s four-poster. “Bye, Pete.”

“Good luck, Prongs,” he replies, not looking up from his book.

James flies down the stairs and careens into the common room. He’s halfway to the portrait hole when someone grabs him for the second time today. He whirls around to find Lily smiling up at him, one hand on his shoulder and the other holding a pink rose.

“James,” she says softly. “Hey. Calm down.” She holds out the rose, and he takes it hesitantly. “Dora brought me a bouquet the other day,” she explains. “Thought you might want one?”

James stares at her for a moment. Then he nods. “Thank you, Lils.”

She waves him off, stepping away. “Don’t mention it,” she says. She nods to the portrait hole. “I’d get going if I were you.”

He nods, shouting one last thanks over his shoulder as he steps out. Lily shakes her head with a smile, heading back to her room.

James is going so fast that he nearly falls through a trick step. He stumbles, shakes it off, and continues running through the castle. He trips over a group of first years playing exploding snap on a landing. “Sorry!” he calls over his shoulder. The first years watch him with bewildered, confused expressions before going back to their game.

James steps into an alcove once he’s reached the bottom of the stairs, casting a tempus. 10:59. He has one minute. He flattens down his hair and regulates his breathing as much as he can before finally putting on a smile and stepping out. He spots Regulus almost immediately, standing in the entrance hall right where they agreed to meet. He’s got a book in one hand. As James approaches, he looks up from an expensive-looking watch, aristocratic features spreading into a warm smile.

“Right on time,” he says. James stutters to a stop taking him in. Regulus is wearing a dark blue button-up over black slacks and boots. His hair is neatly parted in the middle, pushing his short curls to either side of his face, hanging over his ears. He cocks his head to one side. “Are you alright?”

And it’s those three words, the way Regulus’s mouth moves around them, that inspire James to rush forward, closing the distance between them by swooping Regulus into a hug and pressing a kiss to his temple. Regulus laughs, tossing his arms around James’s shoulders. His laugh is so beautiful.

“Jamie,” he snorts. James presses their foreheads together and stares into Regulus’s eyes. They’re the color of clouds on a winter day. James could get lost in them. Regulus smiles at him. “This is a bit of a strong reaction for a first date, don’t you think?” he asks softly. James thinks. Thinks about the months of wanting, of loving, of needing. Thinks about Sirius gagging as loudly as possible when he kissed Regulus on Platform 9 ¾. James grins.

“No,” he says. “I don’t think.”

Regulus snorts, and James kisses his smile.

[srgntjamesbuckybarnes]

The List (1)

Summary: When a hit list spreads around New York, Bucky’s ex-wife is the only one with any information.

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Mafia Bucky Barnes x Ex-Wife Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: Not Beta’d. I was going to conclude this with an actual ending, but it was getting long so I’ll let the readers decide how it ends. If enough people are interested, I might do a part 2. Comment if you want a part 2.

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1

Rumors spread through the underground of New York like the plague. Four murders of New York's most elite in the past 72 hours. Floating around the city was a list of names, a hit list for anyone involved with the mafia. Bucky was no stranger to a threat on his life. Being a mob boss, he constantly walked a thin line, a trapeze artist always one slip away from falling into the hands of death. Bucky had the resources and power to not be taken out so easily. If his name was on the list, he’d be toward the end, but no one knew home long the list was or who was on it. His team had spent the past 3 days searching the city for any information on the list. He had to know who was on it.

“Mr. Barnes, sir,” Peter Parker stammered, catching his breath in the doorway. Peter was a prospect, a good kid with a good head on his shoulders. Bucky couldn't understand why such a gifted kid was so eager to join the mob. Regardless, Bucky couldn’t be happier to have such potential, but the kid picked the wrong time to join them. “We have a lead.”

Bucky’s head snapped up from his desk. He had been engrossed in his own research on his laptop that he had forgotten about his men’s quest. Peter’s spine went rigid under the mob boss’s intense stare. He had yet to get used to it. Peter was certain that was why Bucky’s right-hand man, Steve Rogers, had sent him to retrieve Bucky. Well, that or it was part of Sam Wilson’s attempt at a joke to haze the new guy. Either way, Peter had been a fan of Steve growing up. Steve usually was the face while Bucky worked in the shadows, which only made Bucky more intimidating to Peter. He respected Steve though which is why he found Bucky without hesitation.

“Follow me, sir.”

Standing abruptly, the chair Bucky had been sitting in crashed into the wall behind him with a loud bang. He smoothed his rough palms down the front of his pristine white shirt before straightening his black suit jacket. Without a word, he extended his hand behind Peter, encouraging him to lead the way.

Peter anxiously peered over his shoulder the entire way down the hall. He thought he might have been walking too fast, but Bucky’s pace never faltered. Bucky was hot on his heels, always one step behind him. Stopping unexpectedly outside of the boardroom, Bucky hissed nearly crashing into the teen. Before Bucky could reprimand him, Peter explained, “Before we go inside, Steve told me to give you a message.” Bucky’s shoulders relaxed a bit leaving Peter relieved his boss wasn’t going to chew him out. Still, his own dress shirt began to cling to him with the amount of sweat he was producing. Bucky may have relaxed a bit, but his posture was always disciplined, predatory, and intimidating.

“Spill it out,” Bucky huffed, his hands resting in the pockets of his slacks.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Peter nodded, “Right, um- He said don’t do anything stupid and that we need her.”

The jaw of the boss twitched before he stormed past a confused Peter. His hands pressed into each of the double doors using his full force to slam the doors wide open. All eyes snapped to Bucky as he strode into the room, confidence and determination oozing off of him. Peter ushered in behind him, awkwardly failing to close the doors several times before succeeding. A string of apologies escaped his lips as he stepped further into the room. The serious look Steve shot Peter had him clearing his throat and adjusting his dress coat.

Sam and Steve stood side by side on one end of the room, their arms crossed. They were cautious, guarded rightfully so. Any one of their lives could be on the line. For all they knew, everyone in the room was on the hit list. Spying the woman sitting at the middle of the conference table, Bucky stalked across from her. With his eyes trained on the floor, he dragged the chair away from the table but made no move to sit down as he stepped up to the table.

When his eyes met hers, he puffed out his chest. His arms remained at his sides, his hands burrowing in his pockets. Without so much as a greeting, Bucky began his interrogation, “Who created the hit list.”

The woman raised an eyebrow, a frown etched on her crimson-painted lips. “Right down to business, huh Buck?” A smirk replaced her frown. “I should’ve known, you never were one for much foreplay.”

Bucky pressed his tongue to his cheek. He had expected this, her teasing. It was always a dance between them, one he wanted to avoid by cutting to the chase. She always knew how to rile him up, in more ways than one.

“Princess-”

‘No,” she stopped him with her hand raised, “you don’t get to call me that anymore.”

Bucky snorted, leaning forward, “Isn’t that what you are now?”

“Who is she?” Peter attempted to whisper to Steve, but everyone heard him.

Taking pity on the clueless teen, Sam answered, “She’s Bucky’s ex-wife, Y/N.”

Ignoring the other men, Y/N flashed her diamond engagement ring at Bucky. The light reflected off of the ring making it impossible to miss even from where Steve, Sam, and Peter had been standing.

“That title is pending, followed by queen,” she sassed.

It started out as a term of endearment. Y/N always had a taste for the finer things in life, Bucky’s lifestyle satisfied that craving. He enjoyed spoiling his princess, but that was all she would be. A princess, someone no one would take seriously. It had been an ironic twist of fate that she had met an actual prince after her divorce from Bucky.

Examining the rock on her finger, her signature red nail had been replaced by a nude shade. She was no longer accepting his blood money; she had a good man and clean money now. His eyes traveled back to her face, zeroing in on her red-painted lip. Her hands may be clean now, but her lips were still tainted. The secrets she could talk about his business alone could ruin him which reminded him of why she was here in the first place.

“Who created the hit list, Y/N,” he tried once again to control the conversation.

Pursing her lips, she let him.

“I don’t know,” her gaze dropped to the table, “but I know who has it.”

Finally getting somewhere, Bucky reached back pulling the chair behind him. Once he was seated, he snapped his fingers. Not a moment later, a pen and paper were placed in front of him.

“Give me a name,” Bucky demanded, pen in hand.

Y/N raised her head, the man twirled a pen between his fingers tempting her to sign a deal with the devil. Shaking the image from her head she placed her hand over his, ceasing his movements.

“It’s not that easy. He won't meet with just anyone.”

“He?” Steve asked.

“In case you haven’t noticed, Bucky isn’t just anyone,” Sam called out.

Y/N rolled her eyes, “He may very well be suspect number one. It would be bad for anyone to meet with Bucky alone.” Feeling Bucky’s hand turn beneath her own she went to pull away, but he grabbed her hand.

“What about a future queen?”

Eyeing him beneath her lashes, Y/N pulled her hand back to her chest. Noticing the hesitant look on her face, Bucky leaned back in his chair. He wasn’t a fool to think she was here willingly. She wanted something; she needed something.

Crossing his arms across his chest, Bucky asked, “What do you want?”

Thumbing the ring on her finger, she contemplated lying. She didn’t want to need Bucky, but she did. One look at Bucky and she knew he would see through any lie she would come up with, so she told the truth, “I need protection.” Suddenly she felt exposed with everyone's eyes on her. “If my name is on the list,” her voice shook. She wasn’t Bucky’s dirty little secret. People knew she was his wife, well ex-wife. She had ties to the mob and if her name was on the list or if her fiancé found out, the engagement would be called off.

After a long pause, Bucky spoke, “Get me access to the list and let me worry about the rest.”

Relief flooded Y/N. He could have turned her away. He could have blackmailed the information out of her, but he didn’t. Bucky was a rough man, but he was also kind. She had seen it first-hand for many years. Guilt ate away at her for her earlier actions. He knew she had been engaged but she didn’t need to rub it in his face. She wanted to hurt him but only because he had hurt her. A small part of her hoped he would protect her not because he was kind but because he still loved her.

Y/N was able to request a meeting with the man not even 24 hours later. His assistant had sent her an invitation, but it wasn’t for what she had been expecting. Instead, the man had invited her to a gala. He was a businessman after all, and her appearance would be good for business. At a time when she should be laying low, she was about to attend a high-press event.

It wasn’t long after Bucky was notified that he insisted he escort her. Y/N protested but he had argued that he couldn’t protect her if she was dead. That had convinced her, on one condition, they arrive separately. She was still engaged.

The event was beautiful but high glass windows had Y/N on edge. Anyone could see her. She tried to distract herself by searching for the host. There were so many bodies and no sign of the man who had invited her. In the middle of her search, a hand circled her wrist tugging her in the opposite direction. Y/N began clawing at the man’s wrist, an attempt to pry him off. When he stopped and spun around, she crashed into his chest. With her face in his chest, the unmistakable scent of expensive cologne hit her. She shoved his chest putting enough distance between the two.

“Bucky,” Y/N hissed, “you’re supposed to be laying low.”

Surveying the crowd, Bucky muttered, “I am. It’s you who is running all over the damn place.”

Y/N shook her head glaring at him. Not only did he smell good, but he looked good too. He had shaved since she had last seen him. He had traded in his white dress shirt for a black one, forgoing a bow or tie. The top button of his shirt was open, relieving his collarbone. Instead of drooling over her ex-husband she continued to glare at him. It was easier to hate him than to pine over him.

“If someone takes pictures of us together and my fiancé finds out-”

His cerulean eyes shot down to meet her eyes, “Where is he anyway? Shouldn’t you be asking him for protection? Surely, he has the resources.”

Y/N froze, her hands clutching the sides of her silk gown. “He doesn’t know,” she mumbled, then her voice grew. “He doesn’t know about the list, my past, or about you.” Bucky’s eyes softened. He had his doubts before, but he was certain now that she wasn’t happy. He wanted to gloat, to rub it in her fiancé’s face. He knew Y/N better than her fiancé did, and even better, she wanted to tell him. Bucky wanted to make a joke about how keeping secrets in a relationship was unhealthy, but he kept his mouth shut. Y/N sighed, running her hands down her dress to smooth out the wrinkles she had created. “He’s out of the country right now.” Her voice was barely above a whisper as she wrapped her arms around herself. His gaze dropped to the floor, but Bucky’s remained on her.

He recognized a lonely soul when he saw one because he was one himself. His lifestyle left few people he could trust. He hadn’t always been lonely though, and neither had she. Bucky’s hand twitched to reach out and hug her, but he didn’t think she would appreciate that with cameras around. He took in her appearance and couldn’t help the squeeze he felt in his heart.

“You look beautiful.”

A giggle escaped her lips, “Thanks, Buck. You don’t look too bad yourself.”

He had meant to cheer her up, but her giggle was unexpected. He missed it, he missed her. Everyone he knew in the mob lifestyle had died in the mob. It was poetic in a live by the sword, die by the sword type of way. No one got out, but she did. With his status, he’d never get out and a selfish part of him wanted to pull her right back in.

“You got out, you got away from the life,” Bucky hummed, admiration in his voice, respect.

Y/N shook her head. “No, I just got away from you.”

It was his turn to laugh, “Now if that were true, I wouldn’t be standing here with you.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. I am standing here with you, not you are standing here with me. He meant it. Even if she was here because of him, he was here for her, to protect her. He put her first.

“You of all people know once you’re in there’s only one way out.”

That was it for Bucky. He wasn’t pulling her back in. She never left. They might have been divorced but they had both meant it on their wedding day when they said, “Till death do us part.” Bucky’s calloused hand cupped her jaw just below her ear, pausing. She didn’t push him away. With both hands, she cradled his jaw pulling his face down to meet hers. Their lips brushed one another, slowly at first, testing the waters. Then his other hand slid up the length of her neck, sliding back to tangle his fingers in her hair. It was a dance they were all too familiar with.

The flash of a camera penetrated Y/N’s eyes beneath her closed lids and it was like pouring a bucket of cold water over her. Quickly, she pulled away shoving Bucky’s chest when his lips tried to follow her. She was fucked, royally.

“Y/N?”

Wiping her smudged lipstick, she ignored Bucky’s lingering gaze before turning to face the new voice. A woman in a blue silk dress approached the pair.

“Virginia?” Y/N asked.

The woman waved her hand in the air. “Please, call me Pepper. We spoke on the phone yesterday. Mr. Stark is ready to meet with you. Follow me.”

Without looking back, Y/N followed Pepper through the crowd. She knew Bucky would be right behind her. She would deal with him later. Right now, she needed the names on the list. Upon their arrival, Pepper exited the room, pulling the door shut behind her. On the other side of a glass desk was one of the wealthiest men in the world, Tony Stark.

“Did I interrupt something?” Tony asked eyes darting between Y/N and Bucky. “I swear there wasn’t so much tension before you two walked in.”

Y/N sent him a tight-lipped smile holding up her left hand. “I’m engaged.”

Tony shrugged, “What you do is none of my business. Besides, something like this would be published on the front page.” Y/N’s stomach dropped. “You know what they say, all press is good press.”

“Says the man with a new woman every week,” Bucky grumbled.

Tony smiled. “Precisely, I would know.”

“Mr. Stark-”

Tony loosened the bow tie around his neck. “Call me Tony.”

“Tony,” Y/N corrected, “so you know anything about a list?”

With a raised eyebrow Tony laughed, “If it’s a list you want, I suggest you talk to Pepper. She handles all of that stuff.”

“Not just any kind of list,” Y/N took a step forward, her hands clasped in front of her, “a hit list.” From this distance, Y/N couldn't miss the way Tony’s eyes shifted to Bucky.

“Are you looking to assassinate anybody?”

Bucky held up his hands, “I’m just looking to protect the people I care about.”

Y/N stood still, watching the intense stare-off between the two.

Eventually, Tony sighed, “I don’t want to be in the middle of any of this.” He tapped a few keys on the computer on his desk before turning the screen. “You better get out of here before your fiancé sends someone.”

“What?” Y/N gasped, blindly clutching Bucky’s forearm beside her. Both of their names were written in green on the list. Beneath them were some of Bucky’s most trusted men; their names written in white.

Tony leaned back in his chair. “Green means active. You’re both next on the list and judging by the number of cameras here, someone probably already knows you’re here.”

“You knew,” Bucky growled.

Tony barely flinched. “Your names weren’t active until recently. Other people’s lives are on the line. I can’t get to everyone in time.”

“Wait, why would my fiancé send someone, he’s not even in the country,” Y/N asked, trying to wrap her head around everything.

Tony frowned. “Your fiance is the one who put the hit list out. What better alibi for your significant other’s death than being out of the country at her time of death.”

Y/N would have collapsed if it wasn’t for Bucky’s quick reflexes. He wrapped an arm around her waist, supporting her weight.

“Why?” Y/N whispered wide-eyed.

Bucky wanted to drag her out of the building toward safety but was there even a safe place? People already knew their location.

Tony shrugged. “The New York mobs aren't the only mobs out there. They're all over the country, they're in other countries. There are some real higher-ups in the mafia in other countries. The mafia controls everything, it's one of the most powerful positions. Take out other mobs and you can control more area, more power.”

Y/N felt sick. When she said you never get out once you get in, she hadn’t realized how deep she was in life now. Turning to Bucky, he was already on his phone typing. “Bucky, we need to go.”

“No. I text Steve, he’s rounding everyone up. They’ll be here soon.”

Tony’s eyes widened, his eyebrows reaching his forehead. “You can’t be serious. There are cameras everywhere. This will be plastered on every news station.”

Bucky shrugged, lifting the back of Y/N’s hand to his lips. He pressed a gentle kiss to her knuckles, a quiet promise to protect her. “All press is good press.”

Next Chapter

[lovelettersforthedamned]

thoughts on virgin peter

minors dni, 18+ only !!!

ok, ok, ok. 

virgin peter is such a sweetheart. he’s so incredibly gentle with you, a gentleness you’ve never experienced. while his touches were firm enough to make you feel safe, they also carried a special sense of calmness and tranquility. he brought you a feeling of care that made you realize how delicate peter was. 

sure, he was spider-man, and he knew how to take a punch when needed; but deep down, he was fragile, especially when it came to romance and affection. he’s never been touched before, hell, he hasn’t been in a relationship before you came along. of course, there were flings, but this deep of a connection has never come across peter. 

when it came to being intimate with him, you took everything extremely slow. not only to make sure he was okay, but he was extremely sensitive. feather-light touches flushed his cheeks, and a gorgeous whimper left his lips. you wish you could keep that sound permanently playing in your ears. and ever since then, it’s been your goal to make him whimper and moan since. 

after months of touching him with your hands and your mouth, he told you that he was ready. you could tell he was nervous as soon as you straddled him, his cock inches away from your entrance. biting his bottom lip, his gaze didn’t leave your body. it almost looked like he was starstruck, too in awe to say anything. leaning down, you press a kiss to his swollen lips, “if you’ve changed your mind, we can stop. i don’t mind, baby.” 

and suddenly, his brain fog has cleared, a hand comes up to hold your cheek, “no, no. i’m ready.” 

you nod softly before sinking down on his cock, your eyes don’t leave each other as his eyebrows furrow in pleasure. his hand is still holding the side of your face, your own hand coming up behind you to keep his touch there. a gasp leaves your lips as a moan leaves his. 

you slowly rock your hips for the next few minutes before you both reach your peak. you sink down further at the feeling of peter coating your walls. collapsing onto his chest, you’re both breathless, a pink hue feathering over his cheeks and neck. “did i do okay?” peter asks. 

you giggle before pressing soft kisses up his neck before meeting his lips, “you did amazing, my love. how are you feeling?” 

“good…ready for round two.” 

[smuttyazrael]

Can you maybe do a smut where sirius is fucking female reader in his padfoot form while readers brother james is hilding her open and licker her up and maybe also fucking her while sirius fucks james as padfoot or in human form? Only if your comfortable

Loving Jamie

Word count: 885

Summary: James's sister loves her brother James. James wants to share that with Sirius.

Warnings: Sexual intercourse, fingering, beastiality (sorta, I don't really classify it as personally because its still a human with human thoughts even if he turns into a dog.) anal, oral, threesome, incest.

"Jamie!" You yell getting home from hanging out with your friends. Both of you are home from Hogwarts. Mom and dad are at work. Last you saw Sirius was over as well.

You run up the stairs calling his name. Your short black skirt bouncing as you go. Your tits are bouncing around your red crop top.

"In here, Y/N" you hear your brother James yells from what sounds like his room. You walk to his room and walk in. You see him sitting on his bed reading and a black dog lying on the bed napping.

"Jamie! How was your day?" You squeal bouncing on to his bed waking the dog. "Sorry puppy." You pet the dog beside you.

"It was calm. Sirius and I planned some pranks for back at Hogwarts then we talked about when Remus and Peter get here. Remus will be coming for the full moon. So you need to be good." James tells you.

"I will be. I hope Remus will be okay for the full moon." You say with a frown on your face.

"He will be, princess." James replies while getting up.

"Where you going?" You ask concerned.

"Gotta pee." James turns to tell you as he's walking out the door.

Slowly the dog starts nudging you. You can feel its cold nose press against your belly. You laugh rolling onto your back. He walks aroud the bed sniffing you will you giggling at the snorts and sniffle noises he is making.

He reaches your pussy and bats his nose against you clit. You moan. "Puppy. Silly puppy." You say patting his head thats in between your legs.

The dog shoves his nose into your pussy. You let out a gasp. The dog starts licking your pussy and this causes his nose to rub your clit. You grab on to the sheets moaning loudly.

"Puppy. You can't do that." You gasp out between moans. The dog just keeps licking and you get slick with your juice. The dog licks faster rubbing your clit faster causing you to moan louder.

"Getting your pussy licked, Princess." You hear James say. "Does it feel good?" He comes and whispers in your ear. He pulls your top above your tits and rolls your nipples in between his fingers.

"Yeah, Jamie. It feels so good." You moan out. "I'm gonna cum, puppy!" You yell out your pussy tightening over air. You feel empty as you cum squirting your juice for the puppy to lick up.

The puppy licks it up happily. James leans over kissing you. "Jamie, I need more." You beg him as he pulls away.

"You want more. Greedy little princess." James says pulling away.

He pulls his pants off. His hard cock hiting his abs with a thwack. He pushes himself in between the puppy and you. He rubs his cock around your pussy gathering you slick. He then thrusts into you. You and him both groan out. The puppy behind James. He groans out.

"Lick my balls." He says. You give him a confused look as he thrusts into you. "Puppy is licking my ass."

He suddenly moans out and you see the puppy above James's shoulders. You look down and see James's cock thrusting in and out of you and puppy's cock thrusting in and out of James. You moan. All of a sudden you see Sirius on top of James. You jump in shock. James moans as he sinks deeper into your cunt.

"Fuck James. You feel amazing." Sirius says thrusting in and out of James. "Play with her clit."

James reaches down flicking your little bean and sucking on your tit. Your nipple rolling between his teeth. He switches sides. Causing you to clamp down on him cumming hard with a scream. He yells out cumming deep into you coating your walls in his cum. Sirius groan cumming with him, into James's hole.

Sirius and James roll off of you. James pulling out of you. You whimper missing the feeling. "You want Sirius's cock baby girl?" James asks panting beside you looking into your eyes. You nod.

Sirius climbs over James and flips you over. He lifts your butt so it is in the air and thrusts into you in one hard thrust with his wet cock. He pounds you into the mattress. Your tits bouncing with every thrust. Your clawing the mattress moaning like an animal. He reaches down and rubs your clit. You feel the coil in your belly tighten. Your moans become a higher pitch. Sirius just smirks at James. You cum clamping down on him milking him as he cums. He groans and pulls out after. He rolls off of you into the spot James just vacated.

"How was that princess?" Sirius asks you while panting still.

"Thank you Siri." You say cuddling up to his chest. Not having anymore energy. He wraps his arms around you.

"Lets all get some sleep we need it." James tells you all.

You just nod against Sirius's chest. Closing your eyes and falling asleep almost instantly with Sirius's and James's cum dripping out of your pussy. Sirius rolls you two over so he is spooning you. He plays with your tits as you sleep, helping him calm down enough to fall asleep as well.

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

Can I request scratching Peter quills back during sex and leaving a bunch of marks 🤭 Thank you so much have a great day :3

hii!! sorry this took longer than I planned, been ill the last week so haven’t been able to write, but on the plus side, I got REALLY into writing this🤭 maybe too much. thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

markings

Peter Quill x fem!reader

wc || 888

warnings || 18+ only sexually explicit content (implied oral at start (f receiving) mention of a stomach bulge, lots and lots of dirty talk, praise, p in v) minors dni

masterlist + taglist

"You ready, hm?" Peter hazily questions between your thighs, looking up at you as he swipes your cum from the corner of his lips, rubbing your juices on the back of his hand. "Ready for me now, baby?" he asks, kissing a slow trail up your stomach.

You hum, fervidly nodding as your fingers eagerly knead into his swole shoulders, urging him back up to you. 

"Yeah?" he coos, watching the desperation in your eyes. His head hangs low, looking down at you with a patronising glimmer as he cups your jaw. "Tell me you want me? Go on, honey. Tell me with that pretty little mouth of yours," he whispers against your lips, lightly nibbling on the bottom one.

"I want you," you rasp, your words muffled against him. Your tone was pathetic, utterly pathetic— just desperate and needy, and Peter loved it. He loved the effect he had on you. How he could get you to say anything he wanted in times like this, get you to do anything he wants. 

"Aw," he coos once more, bruising your lips with a harsh kiss. "I know, honey," he cockily grins, sitting up and kneeling between your thighs.

He wraps his rough palm around the base of his cock, rolling over his hardened length as his eyes dart over the beauty of your body below him. Gazing over your stiffened nipples, goosebumped tummy, eager eyes, everything— staring over you like he was mesmerised. 

His hands hook around your waist, dragging you along the mattress so you're almost touching, so close. He slides his leaking, swollen head through your folds, pushing his tip past your lips to collect your arousal around his head. He coats himself in your flavour, using you as lube. 

He slowly guides his cock in, poking his tip into your pretty pussy, gingerly sinking into your warmth. "Fuck—“ he groans, cutting himself off with a harsh exhale. "You can take it, you can take it," he whispers, sliding further into you. "That's it— god, that's it... such a good girl, hm?" he praises, feeling his head press up to your cervix, bottoming out.

You melt over him with his praise, wrapped tightly around him, almost like you were hugging his dick.

"Aw, look at that," he says, his words hoarse as he rubs over the stomach bulge, teasing his head through your skin. "Takin' me so well," he grins, sliding his hands to your waist. He pulls you closer, just a bit closer, like he wanted— needed even more of you. "Yeah— yeah, that's it," he smirks, grazing his palm over your public bone, itching his thumb to your clit, thumbing over your nub at the speed that matched his steady thrusts. 

It all begins to feel like too much, it's like he knows all of the ways to get you off, and he's doing it all simultaneously, like he was purposely trying to consume you. Your urgent hands grip his forearms, holding him as if you were seeking comfort, like you need to feel him, tenderly touch him. 

"Please?" you mutter amongst a whimper, sliding your hands up and to his biceps, pulling him down to you. You didn't even know what you were pleading for or what you were asking. It was just all you could muster. His chest is flush with yours as he works into you. You nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, moaning half swears against his skin as you enwrap yourself around his body. Knees snuggled to his hips with your arms wrapped around his torso, your hands kneading into the back of his shoulders. "Fu—" you cry out against his chest, your teeth grazing his skin as your fingernails drag over his back, marking him. 

"God— fuck, honey, you feel so good," he rasps below your ear, sloppily kissing the skin. "Feel so good around me, baby— so fuckin' good," he murmurs, his words falling past his lips in a drunken haze as he continues to rut you in the way you both need, fucking you into the mattress. "I'm almost there— I'm right there, shit. You gotta cum first. I can't if you don't," he gushes, speaking with desperation as he works into you, his balls heavy as they slap against your ass. "Be a good girl and cum around my dick. You want to be a good girl for me, don't ya? Don't you? Yeah, that's it— god. Doing so good,"

Your nails dig into Quill's back, scratching and dragging, leaving a trail of pink markings over his skin as you reach your high, convulsing and clamping around him with your release. His face is pained as he holds himself off, bottom lip clamped with his teeth as he halts his release, waiting for you to finish yours.

His jaw is slack, and his breathing staggers as he drags his cock from you, rolling over his head as he spills his load over your lower stomach, twitching in his fist.

“God, fuck—" he groans, flopping beside you almost as if his body gave out. 

"Sorry about your back," you chuckle, breathing heavily. "Got carried away," you sigh, rolling over to rest on Peter's chest.

"Don't be... I liked it," he boyishly grins, kissing the crown of your head. "Liked it quite a lot."

taglist- @annielr @ugh09876554444 @spacetalbot @bubblezuku @idontknowwhattohaveasmyuser @queerponcho @selfryed @traiitorjoe

[crimsonbubble]

cw. nsfw, afab!reader, threesome, double penetration, overstimulation, praise, creampies, manhandling, masterbation, voyeurism of sorts *not proofread, just pure horny

[I wrote this on an empty stomach so I hope it feeds all of you 🥹🥹] I literally couldn't figure out how to end this (i haven't eaten yet, it's 7pm and i am tired beyond belief)

MINORS DNI!!

you feel like you're tearing at the seams. every touch leaves your skin hot, coated in a sheen of sweat.

Miguel's fingers are digging into your thighs as he holds you open. Peter's hands clutch your hips as he tries to push in alongside Miguel. the burning stretch became an afterthought as Peter brought a hand down to rub circles into your clit.

"there we go, honey. being such a good girl, taking us so fucking well." Peter caressed your skin while Miguel tried to hold back his grunts. Peter glanced over at him, leaning down to land a quick sloppy kiss on his lips. "let me hear you. both of you."

Miguel felt warmth flood his face, looking away bashfully. Peter pushed his hips further, softly shushing you as he bottomed out. Peter throbbed at the sight of your slicked cunt and swollen clit, his eye fluttering as he peeked up at you and Miguel. you placed your hands over Miguel's, your pussy tightening around them.

Miguel took the chance to give an experimental thrust, enduring a full body shiver when your cunt tightened around them. Peter let out a mirrored gasp of your own; the shallow thrust brushed Miguel's cock against his and grazed your sweet spot. you moved your hands to hold onto Miguel's wrists, using him as leverage to shift your hips.

"fuck it." it was a brief whisper as Miguel slowly pulled you off of him. he glanced at Peter, eyeing your hips. in an unspoken command, Peter pulls you back down onto them. the slow push of Miguel lifting you to the swift motion of Peter tugging you back down, has you throwing your head back against Miguel's shoulder. the method of push and pull was quickly abandoned as the need for a release took over.

they both clutched and groped your body harshly, no doubt leaving bruises that will show up later. the room now felt too warm surrounded by strong bodies. you moved a hand to Peter's side, pulling him closer. he all but melted into you, kissing you like you'd disappear if he doesn't. Peter's eyes screwed shut as you pulsed around him. your juices made a mess of all of you and the bed.

"shit, I'm not gonna last-" you quickly pull him back into the kiss, a mix of tongue and teeth. Peter's body shudders as his release washes over him, his grip tightening on your hips as he pressed deep into you. your orgasm followed not too long after, your body tensing and then going slack against Miguel. Peter carefully pulled himself away from you, wincing as he pulled out of you.

Miguel quickly tugged you off of him, before flipping you over on him. as quickly as he pulled out, he pushed back in. you balanced yourself with your hands in his chest, grinding your hips down on him as he fucked up into you. "take it easy, cariño. I've got you."

he sealed his words with wet kisses to your neck, his hands engulfing your hips as he moved you to his pace. there's a sticky mess of cum leaking out of you as Miguel pushed deep, incessantly pressing against your sweet spot. your body writhed on top of him, your nails scratching down his pecs with each bruising thrust. Peter groaned as he felt his blood rushing again. taking his cock into his hand as he watched the scene in front of him like a pervert.

- tag list-

@fuckedeath @tamashiiraiden @chshiresins @waltzthegenderfluidpan @lucyisdoingfine @islanderr @j-natsuka @petri-chor-bb @adamsbbg

[webslingingslasher]

hiii, could you please write a peter fic based on you are in love by taylor swift??

*cleaning out my inbox*

‘One look, dark room. Meant just for you, time moved too fast, you play it back.’

Your eyes danced across the room until you found Peter’s, he was on the opposite wall but connected eyesight when you did. Neither of you blinked or tilted your head, just a single glance and you both knew what it meant. 

Peter politely ended his conversation and you wrapped up yours, there wasn’t a reason to look back for him. You met him at the front door, it took you back to the first night you met. A party a friend threw, he was a friend of a friend and wasn’t even supposed to be there, but fate aligned. 

You locked eyes with him across the kitchen, it was instant, you both moved in tandem until you met in the middle and talked for hours. 

This time, he’s your boyfriend. 

“Ready?” 

“God, yes.” 

—-----------------------

‘Buttons on a coat, light hearted joke. No proof, not much. But you saw enough.’ 

You hadn’t expected much, he had seemed nice but so had every other guy you tried to date. It always started with them as  prince charming but then after a few dates you realized why you were single. 

Until the sixth date with Peter, you keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. But it doesn’t seem like it will, what started as a lunch date bled into the evening, currently sitting on the green of central park looking over the playground. 

You smile and banter back and forth with Peter, you don't remember the last time conversation flowed so easily between you and a suitable dater. 

The air started to drop with the threat of fall approaching, you hadn’t planned to spend the evening talking with Peter in the outside air but you couldn’t bring yourself to stop, everything new you learned about him made admiration blossom in your chest. 

You’re shivering but haven’t noticed, Peter had. 

While you’re in the middle of explaining your favorite book plot he drapes his jacket over your shoulders, it makes you stop talking. The warm wool eloped your shoulders, you were about to ask but he stopped you. 

“I need you to stop chattering your teeth if I want to hear how this ends.” 

You feel warmth hit your cheeks but you shake your head softly and pick up where you paused.

—----------------------

‘Small talk, he drives. Coffee at midnight.’

“I’m going to fail this test and then I’m going to fail the course and then I’ll have to drop out.” You sigh heavily and frown at your laptop, “there’s no other option.”

Peter’s trying to think of something quick, he only has one idea. 

“I can think of another,” you peer at him and find yourself being tugged up by his outstretched hand, following him without another question. You watch Peter move around the kitchen, his task revealed quickly. 

“It’s midnight! You should go to bed and leave me to suffer on your futon.” Peter has none of it, spooning coffee grounds into his french press. You complimented it the first time he made you breakfast the morning after, he told you it was less about being fancy and more about being poor. 

There’s been more and more of those lately. You wouldn’t change it for a thing. 

“I’m craving coffee, that’s all.” You know him enough to know he doesn’t really like coffee, but struggles through a cup just so you don’t feel guilty about him making only you a cup. 

“I think you’re lying about that. I actually think you lie about liking coffee.” He’s been caught, the look on his face says it all. He’s amused, he likes that you’re figuring him out as much as he is you. “I like that it gives me something to do for you.” 

You bite back a smile, you haven’t felt this good in awhile. 

—------------------

‘You keep his shirt, he keeps his word. And for once, you let go. Of your fears and your ghosts.’ 

“Good morning.” You wash your eyes over his skin, you’re so thankful for last night you ignore his greeting to move around his kitchen counter for a kiss. Peter’s hands scrunch the fabric of his shirt over your waist, “nice pajamas, are they exclusive?” 

You nod and give a chaste kiss, “designer exclusive. They came from this super hot guy I’ve been seeing.” 

Not talking, not hooking up, not friends. Seeing. You can’t remember the last time you’ve said that, or the last time they were spoken proudly. Peter’s eyebrows raise, “you’ve been seeing someone? Do I need to fight him?” 

You can sense it before it happens, your hands clutch his over your hips. “I’m not wearing underwear!” Peter gives you a funny look, you squeal when you’re picked up and set down, your feet lightly kicking cabinets. 

“Good thing the guy you’ve been seeing doesn’t mind.” You lick your bottom lip, last night wasn’t enough, you need his morning too. “Then I’m sure he wouldn’t mind giving me a kiss.” Your knees push open when he rests between them, you lean up into his mouth, and gasp when his hand pushes up your thigh. 

Slow kisses, he presses into you. A hum pulls from the back of your throat when his trailing hand finds-

“Fuck. Peter, the toast is burning!” 

—-------

‘You kiss on sidewalks. You fight, then you talk.’ 

Peter pulls you closer, you think it’s less about safety and more about keeping you next to him. You wonder if he still thinks about last week, you still do. You couldn’t admit the truth, the whole reason you pushed him out. 

But you can now, and it’s at the tip of your tongue and you can’t hold it in any longer. 

“It scares me how much I like you.” Quiet. You assume he didn’t hear you, it’d be the only reason he didn’t respond. You almost say it again but that much admission scared you. A kiss to your forehead. “It doesn’t scare me.” 

“It doesn’t?” Not even when you pushed him away? Not even when you shut down? Not even when-

“Not even a little.” 

—-------

‘You can hear it in the silence.’ 

A bowl pushed into your hands, you’ve refused to speak to Peter for three hours and he doesn’t mind one bit. But he still made you dinner. 

‘You can feel it on the way home.’ 

A dozen kisses, “let me know the second you’re home, okay?” And you felt each one on the way. 

‘You can see it with the lights out.’ 

It’s the middle of the night and you’re tugged into Peter’s chest after a slight rumble from the sky. You said once that you were scared of thunder as a kid, but he’s taking no chances and letting you know he’s there and you’re safe. 

‘You are in love. True love.’ 

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

feeling like shit rn, can you please write pete teasing his drunk baby and cleaning her up, holding her hair back when she pukes, she's like "i'm a mess, how can you love me" and he's kissing her face, that kind of fluffy shit <3

this is so stinkin cute

YOUR GIRL- P.B PARKER

Pairing: Boyfriend! Peter x Girlfriend! Reader

Word Count: 843

Warnings: some swearing, and vomiting ofc. but petnames and lots of fluff:))

"carry me to my bed, lay me in a pillow town kiss me on my head and remind me of the way we will not know

i wish i was your girl..."- your girl, lana del rey (unreleased)

“M’Peter I’m done. No more.” you moaned, your body feeling weak and achey as you leaned against your forehead against the toilet seat.

You felt like you were being punched in the gut, pins and needles pricking your clammy skin as the world began to spin again. The booze was rushing to your head, and you started to regret drinking so much.

Actually, you started regretting it nearly half an hour ago, the cool bathroom tile becoming an secret oasis for you as you heaved up sweet coolers and warm shots of fireball.

“No, no baby you gotta get it all out. You’ll feel so much better.” he cooed from above you, hand holding your hair back, the other stroking your back in small, soothing circles.

You were jealous of how much better he could handle his alcohol. You were jealous of the fact he didn't have the taste of sickly sweet six percent on his teeth, mixed with the taste of faint vomit.

“I’m not feeling better. M’feeling worse. You’re lying.” you stated, groaning as you felt the contents in your stomach roll over like a tidal wave.

“I never lie sweetheart, you know this. Stop being mean.” he laughed, watching as you weakly attempted to reach behind yourself to swat at him. Before you could make another sly comment back, it was too late.

“Oh g-god-” you hiccuped, leaning further towards the toilet bowl as you felt the room start to spin.

“Oh, there she goes. Atta girl, let it all out.” he winced, patting your back as you heaved everything up, feeling as if you'd choke.

“Good girl. See? It’s better.” he said, reaching over to grab the damp cloth he had been using to help clean you up, so you’d stop (attempting) to use the back of your hand as a means of getting the puke off your lips.

“No not better. You’re better.” you moaned, not relaxing your words had made no sense.

“I am better. Now look up for me, good girl.” he smiled as you obeyed, makeup slightly smudged as he wiped the warm facecloth across the lower half of your face. Leaning down, he scattered kisses across your face, leaving you giggly as his lips brushed every inch of skin, tickling your eyelashes.

“I’m a mess, how can you l-love me?” you slurred, hearing the toilet flush before he helped you stumble upwards to stand.

“You’re not a mess. You’re beautiful.” he shoke his head, and you reached for the edge of the counter to help steady yourself.

You felt awful. You knew tomorrow morning would be hell on earth, and you already could predict the amount of tylenol and gravol you’d have to down with lots, and lots of water. It seemed like a chore, so out of reach as you felt yourself being guided towards the bed.

You couldn't even remember whose bed it was. It certainly wasn't yours.

“Do you wanna try and get out of these clothes?” Peter asked, to which you could only nod. Exhaustion washed over your bones, and you felt weak and nimble as thread as you swayed in place.

“I need them off. They’re sticking to me.” you complained, feeling like a rag doll as he moved your limbs to better suit his needs, lifting your arms up to slide your shirt off.

“I wish I was your girl. I wanna be your girlfrienddd.” you blurted out, slouching back on the bed, head pressed against the crisp sheets and you breathed them in. They were coated in the smell of Peter, and a sigh of relief escaped your lips as you realized you were safe in the comfort of his bed.

You could hear his laughter, though it sounded slightly muffled and distant as he unbuttoned your jeans, sliding the deminum down your legs and letting them plop onto the floor with the rest of your garments.

“You are my girlfriend silly. And I wouldn't have it any other way.” he hummed, shuffling you around so you were vertical, head collapsing on the pillow.

“Really? That's so sweet.” you smiled, content with the idea that the two of you were together (despite being a couple for over a year), as you always wanted.

“Lets just stay here. We can stay here all night.”

“We are staying here all night. And all day, most likely. You’re not moving in this condition.”

You smiled. “That means more time to cuddle.” you giggled, and he leaned over to kiss your forehead before turning away.

“W-where are you going? I thought we were going to cuddle, cause you’re my boyfriend and that's what they do!” you pouted, reaching aimsley for his hand in an attempt to keep him from leaving you.

“We will cuddle baby I promise. I’m gonna get some stuff like meds and a bucket okay? I’ll be right back.”

You nodded, letting your hand fall limp against the sheets. Before you could stop them, your eyelid started to droop, the world turning dark as you dozed off into dreamland.

[frankenkyle19]

couldn’t get this out of my head and as I laid down to go to sleep I bolted upright to write this- sorry not sorry-

Imagine: Peter Maximoff, sexually frustrated and his hand just isn’t doing it for him in the moment, so he just fucks the shit out of his pillow. Yeah. That’s literally it. Hehe :)

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Peter groaned in frustration, his hand falling away from his cock as his head fell back against the pillows of his bed, a defeated sigh leaving his lips as he thought of what to do. He was so hard, he needed this so bad but he couldn’t get himself to just fucking cum. 

He was too lazy to get any of his toys out of the boxes hidden deep  in his closet away from his mother so he was really at a loss for what to do here.

Go to sleep with a hard on or find a way to get himself to cum. Well… one of those options sounded much better than the other. 

As his head was resting in his pillows, trying to figure out what to do, he paused. He shifted his head a few times, feeling the way the pillow morphed to its shape before biting his lip. Should he? Fuck it…

He took the pillow from under him, rustling around on the bed before he was on his hands and knees, pillow folded in half under him, cock twitching as he gently let his hips grind against the pillow.

Soft, sweet heaven. God it had to be one of the best things Peter had ever felt and realistically he knew that it wasn’t that good, but couldn’t find it in himself to stop.

He pressed the leaking tip of his cock against the pillow, moaning softly before pressing himself into the makeshift sex pillow contraption whatcha-ma-call-it he’d created.

His mouth dropped open, the feeling of the soft fabric sliding against his cock so much better than his hand and he couldn’t figure out why. Maybe it was just because he was desperate and it was something new. Who knows, but he wasn’t going to sit around trying to figure it out.

His length slid between the cushiony sides of the pillow, pre-cum wetting the fabric in little droplets.

He began to increase his speed after a while, bed creaking as he fucked his cock into the pillow. His hands were gripping the sheets so hard his knuckles turned white as he humped the pillow, eternally grateful that he was alone and it was night time, no one to interrupt him from his jerkin’ session, if you could even really call it that.

“A-ahhh f-fuckkkk” He slurred out, silver hairs falling in front of his eyes as his mouth dropped open, slobber drooling from the corner of his mouth. He looked a mess and he relished in the way his body felt, on fire with pleasure.

“Fuck pleaseee please I’m so close please please please-“ He begged to the empty room, the only other sounds the creaking of the springs on his bed as he fucked the pillow harder, using his speed to increase the feeling.

“Fuck- gonna cum- gonna cum-“ And for some reason the only thing he could think about when he came hard against the pillow… Was you. He imagined he was cumming deep inside you, coating your walls in his hot seed, fucking it so deep inside of you… 

He was too tired to clean up, collapsing against the bed as he panted, worked up but thankfully satisfied now. The only problem he had now was wondering why the only thing he could think about was you… But, that was a problem for another day. Right now, he wiped his sticky cum onto the covers, a problem for future Quickie to have to deal with and clean up. 

[k-n0-x]

༺ ♱✮♱ ¨:·Something Stupid-Chapter 3·:¨ ♱✮♱ ༻

A/N: Hii everyone! Sorry this chapter is a little later than usual, burnout happened, school happened, the whole shebang! This chapter is a doozy though, hope you all will love it <3

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꧁🥀☽💫✶♛🦢♕✶💫☾🥀꧂

The sun rays peek through your window and the birds’ chirps awake you from your slumber.

Or maybe it’s the snoring of a drowsy Adam, who was lying beside you, though you’ve inured yourself to his unconscious noises for ages.

You get up from your bed, just to almost have your legs give way under you, thanks to the fact that you had to be pounded by your husband, as you promised to him.

Last night felt like a chore. You feel really bad for thinking it, but it really did. 

You’re not an expert, but sex should feel enjoyable, by all sides involved, but with Adam, it feels like an obligatory activity.

You spend the next 25 minutes brushing your teeth, showering and getting ready for the day. Since there’s nothing to do at home (well, there’s nothing to do at home) you decide that this is a good time to be productive.

You head into the kitchen and scrutinise each and every ingredient that graces your pantry.

“Hmm, maybe this would work…”  You grab flour, eggs, milk and a frying pan…

꧁ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ꧂

The smell of buttery pancakes drifts throughout the kitchen. You sit down in your chair and take a bite of your breakfast.

The pancakes themselves were lovely; the consistency was just right and the flavour was something to die again for, courtesy of Heaven’s always perfect ingredients.

Heaven…. 

‘Perfect’ Heaven.

Up until a few weeks ago, you would have believed that sentimental saying that you hear being thrown around on multiple occasions, but now, those words seem like direct opposites of each other, an oxymoron even.

The mere thought of it sets an uneasy feeling in your stomach.

You shakily finish one pancake, and neatly leave the rest in the microwave. 

You have more pressing matters to get on about today, and pancakes aren’t one of them, though you want it to be. 

꧁ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ꧂

“Welcome to Heaven, how can I help?” The Saint looks up from his logbook with a face coloured with surprise when he recognises you.

“Y/N! How’ve ya been?” 

“I’m doing good,” you smile up at the angel behind the pedestal.

“So, what can I do for the wonderful wife of Adam, hm?” St. Peter clicks his tongue and finger guns.

“Well, Peter, is there a chance you could show me the list of Heaven’s recent residents? There’s a certain person I’m looking for…” Realisation hits you like a truck. Would this information be classified? You wouldn’t know until-

“Yeah sure, here!” The Saint passes you a page with written names and dates.

“This is a list of  Heaven’s newest angels from up to a month ago. I hope you find who you’re looking for!” 

“Thanks Pete, you’re a Saint,” 

“Well, I am Saint Peter after all, ah bye-bye!” 

Well that was easier than anticipated. 

Now you need a private place to mull it over…

You walk through the brightly lit heavenly streets and bump into someone, sending you and your papers flying.

“Oh my, misss, I am ssssso ssssorry,” The person bends down to collect the papers.

“No, no it’s fine, sorry-” your voice gets stuck in your throat. You take a close look at the person collecting your papers.

The person, or, you should say snake, was sporting a smart coat, top hat, and eyes in his hair?

He was familiar. Where have you seen him before?

Your eyes dilate in recognition.

He was pixel perfect to the mural that Charlie showed you the other day.

“Excuse me for asking, but are you Sir Pentious?” 

The snake demon, or angel, looks around before leaning in. 

“Depends on who’sssss asssking,”

“Oh uh,” you think for a moment. How do you explain that you know he was a demon, without seeming like a stalker of sorts. 

Clearly, this isn’t the subject to have casually in the street.

“Here, let me explain over tea and cookies, hm? My treat!” You grab the hand of Pentious gently and head to the nearest café.

꧁ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ꧂

“And ssso, thisss Adam guy just sssnapped me out of existence, and now I’m here, but without my egg boisss,” Pentious explains while indulging himself with a Pain un Chocolat, eyes welling while doing so.

“Huh, I see. So Charlie’s plan does work,” you mumble to yourself. “And I apologise for my husband, by the way,”

The snake pales, his skin now ashy.  “He’ssss, your husssband?” he instinctively pushes away from you in his seat.

“Yes, but don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you. I just promised Charlie that I would help her with the hotel and redemption and all that…”

“Oh I sssee. Here’ss my card if you need anything more,” He produces a card and hands it to you, and you accept it graciously, despite it having a slimy residue on it. 

“Great! I have to go now but it was nice meeting you,”  you shake his hand and leave the café.

꧁ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ꧂

“So, what’s it like having sex with the first man? What are your orgasms like?”

“Angel, don’t torment the poor girl,” 

“Whaat? Just askin’” Angel groans and puts his phone on the countertop of the bar.

Apparently, Charlie has gone AWOL, along with Vaggie and Lucifer, the three people that deserve to be the first people aware of the gratifying information you are holding.  

This tension is getting you antsy, but you answer your newfound bestie’s question.

“Overrated to be honest. Not meaningful in the slightest,” Your blunt answer stuns Angel and Husk for a moment.

“What’s this about orgasms?” You turn back to the entrance of the hotel.

Shit. 

The one person whom you didn’t want to hear you say that, was standing in front of you, holding about 10 shopping bags, his daughter and his daughter’s partner  following suit.

God, what must he think? You want to slam your head into the table, but you refrain yourself.

“Uh Dad?” Charlie taps her dad’s shoulder.

“Maybe let’s refrain from talking your way into the sex life of guests? Anyway, how are you, Y/N? I hope everything’s alright?” Charlie inadvertently snapping you out of your apparent embarrassment.

“Oh yes! Not just alright; absolutely amazing actually. I have important information to tell you so forgive me for my impromptu visit, but it clearly cannot wait,” you practically jump out of your chair, bursting with energy. 

My, you haven’t felt this emotion since…

Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.

“Well, I did some digging and…” you grab the crusted card from your bag.

“Well, congratulations to you, Miss Charlie Morningstar, Princess of Hell, because your dream is a reality!” You flourish the card to Charlie, and she takes it.

She blinks. 

Everyone else blinks.

“Uh, what is this exactly?”

You groan. Fun police much? 

“Sinners can be redeemed, I found Sir Pentious in Heaven just this morning,” you concede, impatiently tapping the card.

“Wait really? You aren’t just messing with me?” Charlie’s eyes practically shone with stars.

“Angels aren’t known for that darling.” 

As soon as you say that Charlie squeals and jumps up and down, ecstatic.

“Thankyouthankyouthankyooouuuuuu!” She gushes and hugs you extremely tight, constraining your lungs, but you really don’t care.

“This is a pleasant surprise,” You pull away to have Alastor behind you, with that ever-so-familiar-yet-unpleasant grin. 

When did he get here?

“Seems like out little Morningstar is becoming quite the entrepreneur,” Alastor places a hand on Charlie’s shoulder, as though they are father-daughter.

Father-daughter, where the daughter’s biological dad is directly beside them. 

“Hey, hey now, get your slimy claws off of my daughter, would ya?” Lucifer asks the Radio demon, half laughing.

“Oh? The same daughter you’ve abandoned for countless years on end? The same daughter who had to build this establishment by herself, with no support. The same daughter I’ve been faithful to, in comparison to you? I’ve stuck through thick and thin with her. Hell, I probably fit the Dad position by definition,” 

The room is loud with silence; you could probably hear a pin drop.

Alastor’s voice carries those words in a seemingly defensive manner, but you can tell that those words don’t hold any meaning to him.

It seems like you’re the only person to realise that, because with the slam of a door, Lucifer exits the room, leaving an aura of pure anger and jealousy behind.

“Dad!” 

“Charlie, maybe you should give him a breath of fresh air-” Vaggie tries pulling her back.

“No! Vaggie, he needs someone to be there with him. God knows what he will do and what if-” Charlie is in a craze to get to the door. 

“I’ll go,” you say abruptly. Without question, you go through the door.

꧁ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ꧂

“Hey, it’s really hot out here, you know,” you stand at the garden door, as the king gazes out on Hell’s not-so-perfect landscape depressingly.

Silence. 

“Alastor was just pulling your leg back there, he just wanted to piss you off,” you stand beside him, keeping an appropriate distance.

“I know. That’s not the problem. The problem is that-” his voice hitches.

“Go on,”

“The problem is, is the fact he’s not even wrong; I left Charlie with nothing, she had to support herself before help came along, I barely was there for her throughout all of this, until the very last moment, when she didn’t even need me anymore,” The King of Hell rambles, and fidgets with a small yellow thing in his hand. A bird of some sorts.

A duck? 

“I can’t do anything right,” he continues.

Okay, you have to stop getting sidetracked by meagre things. 

“Lucifer, listen. Yes, you may not have been there for her before, but you’re here now, and you are ready to help. Yes, I know it’s scary, yes I know it’s hard, but I have an inkling that Charlie would love to start having a bond with her father again. Also, you know her and how she is; she isn’t the type to shut you out. Just try to put some work into it, okay?” 

That felt like more of a ramble, than advice, but it seems to suffice for the King of Hell. 

“Thank you. I really know why Charlie has taken a liking to you…” he trails off, continuing to fidget with the rubber duck. He squeezes it, and it plays a short, spunky tune. 

“And see? Atleast you’re doing something small for now, you should take it easy. By the way, that’s the most adorable rubber duck!” You gush at the plastic fellow, earning a smirk from Lucifer.

“Oh? Changing the subject are we?” The fallen angel teases.

Well, that was out of nowhere, but you just go with the flow.

“Yeah, and what? That’s a fuckin’ cool duck, so I apologise for acknowledging that fact,”

“Ah well, I have better. By the way, why are you talking about orgasms to that porn star- I mean Angel, back there?” 

Oh yeah. That happened. 

“Gee, why does everyone want to know the juicy details of my life? But really,he was just interested in my sex life, that’s all,” 

“Interesting. You know I slept with 2 of Adam’s previous wives?”

“Don’t even try,” you give him a playful shove.

“Eh, worth a shot,” 

꧁ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ꧂

You and the blond-haired demon go back inside, giggling about some disastrous function you went to when you were younger, and how you may or may not have been the leading cause.

Thankfully, the only person in the lobby was Charlie, who jumped to hug her father the second she saw the two of you, making them both cry and profusely apologise to one another.

Yeah, maybe it’s a good time to go. Maybe quietly too this time. 

You open the portal, and you are back in Heaven again, in front of the pearly gates of the place you call home. 

As you open the door and turn into the living room, you nearly jump out of your skin.

“Hey,” The sound of your husband’s voice rings through your ears.

“I ate your pancakes from this morning,” 

“Alright. I’ll make dinner soon, but I’m tired right now,” you pave your way to your bedroom, when Adam pulls you back.

“Where were you even?”

“Places,” you try to pull away, but the First Man doesn’t relent.

“Where? You weren’t in Heaven, were you?” 

“Alright fine. I was in Hell, cleaning up the mess you and your little play soldiers made by the way,” 

“Were you not there the other day? Why are you so attached to this-” Cogs turn in Adam’s head.

“You were with him, weren’t you? You fucking slut,” Adam’s hand swiftly slaps you across the face. A small cut of golden blood streaks down your face.

“What the fuck? Of course Lucifer is gonna be there, you dumbass?! Why do you think I’m gonna sleep with-” You dodge a flying porcelain jug that was headed in your general direction.

“That fucking demon, thinking he’s hot shit and- and all, just fucking whoever he wants-” The Angel starts storming around the living room, just throwing random shit about, like a kid having a tantrum, making colourful insults while doing so.

You sigh and go into the kitchen to make dinner; hopefully Adam would have blown off enough steam by then.

“Oh and- You better not go back there again, you got it?” 

“…Fine,” You slam the door behind you.

Clearly, you have to be more furtive about your visits to the underworld.

For now, maybe you should cook some dinner, and a warm bath.

Your back really hurts.

꧁🥀☽💫✶♛🐣♕✶💫☾🥀꧂

Word count- 2264

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@dionysusismypatrongod

[lovelytsunoda]

you’re on your own, kid // mercedes

summary: to quote her mentor, it’s been a shit fucking day at the office. she doesn’t want to go home alone, and needs a few shoulders to cry on.

pairing: platonic!mercedes amg f1 team x female reader

warnings: *existential crisis intensifies*. talk of loneliness and romantic problems, anxiety. y/n is very emotional and sensitive. I do a lot of projecting because I just want to be comforted. we jokingly bully paul aron a little bit.

author's note: the only explanation i have for this is sad girl fall

"mr. bonnington?" she shouted, dashing across the factory floor to catch up to the race engineer, a stack of papers in her hands.

peter bonnington smiled at the young intern, taking the sheaf of papers patenting the new suspension system being used in the silver arrows for next season. "mr. bonnington was my father. please, y/n, call me bonno. everybody else does. you're one of us now."

"am i? i just work in legal. i don't even get to travel." she said it jokingly, but it was another reminder that she didn't truly fit in with the team, that nothing she did would make her good enough.

"yeah, and you don't get the stress and jet lag that goes along with it." bonno looked at her knowingly. "you're going to do great things here. just you wait and see."

but y/n didn't fully believe him. she wasn't even a proper lawyer, just the clerk. the glorified errand-girl.

she carried that bad feeling in her stomach all day. while she was sitting at her desk typing reports, watching through the windows as the engineers laughed with each other. while she sorted contracts and blueprints and watched the drivers talking with each other on their way to the simulator room. the junior drivers, kimi antonelli and paul aron, one a year younger than she was, the other two full calendar years and three months. just kids, already more successful and well known than y/n would ever be.

and she realized that she never truly felt like she fit in, and then she was going to go home and sit alone with her feelings over a frozen dinner.

as soon as the clock hit five, she grabbed her backpack and her coat and she was out of the office in a flash, headphones in as she bit back tears.

she made it to the edge of the parking lot before she started crying, sitting down on the edge of one of the decorative rocks. the tears ran down her face and she knew she looked like a fool sitting in the parking lot and bawling her eyes out, but her mother always told her that emotions were better out than in.

she didn't know how long she had been there when something brought her back to the present moment. the press of a paw on her leg, a deep bark that cut through the music she was listening to. the gentle pressure of a hand on her shoulder.

she looked down, taking out one of her earbuds as she reached down to scratch roscoe hamilton behind the ears, turning her head to see the bulldog's owner, the one and only lewis hamilton, standing next to the rock where she was sitting.

"are you alright, y/n? you look upset."

she shook her head, wiping her eyes and trying to regain composure. "you know who i am?"

"of course. we met when your lawyer did that tour of the factory floor."

"i didn't think the higher ups would remember somebody like me."

lewis smiled, taking a seat next to her on the rock, lifting roscoe up so she could hold the bulldog in her arms. "do you want to talk about it?"

"it's been a day, lewis. it's been a day. i'm struggling to fit in here, even though this field placement is literally the dream to me. i've loved this team since before i could walk, and i feel like an outsider every time that i walk through the factory doors."

lewis comfortingly put his hand on her arm. "what can we do to help?"

"i don't know. i think that i'm the problem, lewis. i don't know how to talk to people, and i always think they're judging me behind my back. i'm not a people person, and i think it's just as simple as that."

roscoe whined in her lap, nudging his head into her stomach. she laughed scratching the bulldog behind the ears.

"roscoe seems to like you. and if roscoe likes you, you can't be that bad."

"i'm just lonely, lewis. it's my first year away from home, and i've never been alone for this long before."

lewis was about to say something when another voice cut through the air.

"oi, lewis, mate, what are you doing out here in the cold?"

they both turned around. lewis waved the other man over, and soon enough, george russell was sitting on her other side, a concerned look on his face.

"are you alright, love? you look like you've been crying."

"thanks for the reminder." she sniffled, wiping at her eyes with the cuff of her sweater. "i'm y/n, i work in legal."

"nice to meet you, y/n. i'm george, but you know that already, i bet."

lewis patted her gently on the shoulder. "y/n was just saying that she doesn't feel like she fits in here."

george's eyes widened. "that can't be true. come on now, we aren't that bad company, are we?"

y/n laughed, shaking her head. "i've just always struggled with the social aspect. and now i get to go home and be lonely over a good book and a frozen dinner from sainsburys."

lewis raised his eyebrows. "really? a pretty, bright young thing like you must have someone to come home to."

"you know how it is. you grow older and you lose touch with friends, they move away destined for better things and you're still stuck in the same place that you were before because your anxiety is so bad that you can't bear to move away from home and leave behind everything you thought you knew. this is my first time living on my own. i moved out of my parent's house and into a small little flat that i can barely afford."

she stopped and took a deep breath.

i will not cry in front of the most important members of this fucking team.

"with every day that goes by where i don't meet that person, that person who's going to love me unconditionally, that person who's going to tell me i'm gorgeous and kiss me softly and want to spend the rest of their life with me, i get scared that it's never going to happen for me. i'm scared of being alone."

"woah, is there a party out here that i wasn't invited to?" nyck de vries was bundled up from head to toe against the british fall, the wind ruffling his hair as he shrunk his already small body back into the down jacket that swamped his body. "room for one more?"

"if you can fit on the rock, you're welcome to join us." y/n smiled, grateful for the company as she shifted to create room for the reserve driver.

"nyck'll fit, he's tiny anyways." george laughed as the dutch driver joined the trio.

"fuck off, russell. we can't all be tall. being short is awesome anyways, i don't know what you're talking about. so, what are we talking about? boys? inter-office gossip?"

"how about the ever present fear of dying alone having never experienced being in love." y/n said shortly, pulling the sleeves of her sweater over her knuckles. "yeah, it's a heavy one."

"i'm sorry, how old are you?"

"almost twenty."

"that's way too young to be having an existential crisis like this, mate. you have your whole life ahead of you."

"it will happen when it's meant to. the world has a funny way of working in the ways you least expect it." lewis said gently, taking her small hand in his larger one. "and in the mean time, you have the three of us."

"i can set you up with some of the f2 guys." nyck suggested. "i mean, it's been a while since i was a part of that world, but there's got to be a few of them left around that could help out."

"absolutely not. i'm not sicking an f2 driver on the poor girl." lewis laughed. "you of all people should know how wild they are."

"would you rather i set her up with a formula e driver? i'd say that they're worse."

"what about clement?" george suggested. "i think you'd love novalak, he's a riot."

"he's friends with lando." lewis reminded his teammate.

"right, maybe he's not the best fit for someone so sweet and quiet. paul, maybe?"

"paul is eighteen years old, george." y/n reminded through a laugh. "i'm not dating a literal child."

"what's this about dating?"

at the sound of the team principal's voice, all conversation ceased as the drivers turned to look at their boss. "hey toto." they chorused in almost terrifying unison.

"your drivers are trying to find me a boyfriend."

toto raised his eyebrows. "and they suggested paul? i wouldn't wish that boy on anybody. his brother might be a good fit though. a nice boy with a respectable job on the pit wall."

"leave the poor girl alone, toto." susie laughed, smacking her husband on the arm. "me and angela are the only people allowed to send her on dates, you hear me?"

"yes, susie." the three drivers said in unison, laughing among themselves.

y/n already felt better.

"hey, y/n," george offered. "we were all about to go for a night out, lewis was taking us bowling, we were probably also going to get some pizza or something. did you want to come with us? i'd hate for you to go home sad."

y/n smiled. "actually, yeah. i'd like that a lot."

"come on, then!" susie smiled, helping y/n up from the rock and putting her arm around the younger girl. "you look like you need some girl time."

"oi, susie!" nyck shouted with a laugh. "don't go stealing her from us now!"

and suddenly, even if it was just for a night, she felt like things were going to be okay again.

maybe she wasn't as lonely as she thought she was.

maybe she wasn't on her own after all.

[blooming-violets]

Ik this is a dark ask but you said that you enjoy angst...What if Peter was suicidal? Couple years after Ben & Gwen and he generally just doesn't want to live anymore thinking it would be best if he just died? If he did have a significant other would she have to talk him from of the ledge once or twice? Again you really don't have to answer this if you don't want to. I'm not trying to glorify suicide or depression at all. I think you're a great writer and would be the best equipped for this type of subject matter

I don't think it's too dark! Not for me, at least. This is right up my alley and very much something I believe Peter would be going through with his guilt. Talking about and writing about suicide and suicidal tendencies and depression in fiction are not glorifying the topic. You're allowed to express yourself and write/read anything you please, no matter the topic. Don't forget that!<3

Trigger Warnings: this is a short angst drabble about depression, self harm, and suicidal tendencies, mentions of self harm include (burning self in shower, standing under freezing shower, cutting skin, burning on stove), gory details about Gwen's death are described

The water scalded his skin. 

It was as hot as his apartment shower would allow it to go. 

His palms were pressed against the wet wall in front of him in a braced stance with his head hung low. He held his back under the liquid fire through clenched teeth. 

Feel the pain. Consume him. Until there was nothing left. 

Let it burn through his flesh, let it melt away his muscles, and dissolve his spine until he was nothing but a steaming pile of visceral, bloody goop. 

What’s the point of anything? 

Peter’s pale skin turned red under the water. The bite of burning agony was everything he wanted. He could stay here forever to let his skin slowly melt from his body. 

And he did. 

At least, until the hot water ran out and ice replaced the heat. It was then that he allowed himself to lay down. Curled up under the stream. Cocooned by the dirty tub walls. The change of temperature sent his body in shock. Pools of icy water sloshed around his body. This hole in the wall apartment never had good drainage. It was filthy and broken just like him.

The cold overtook him much like the heat had. It held a different kind of burning bite but one he relished in. 

It numbed his blistering back until he felt nothing. There was no more pain. His mind slowed to a sluggish pace. His blue lips trembled along with his chattering teeth. 

His eyes closed. Here in the shower, he could find a peace he never could outside of it. 

“Peter!” 

The water halted. 

A towel was being thrown over him. Stealing him from his safety. He was so close. Just a little longer. That’s all he needed. Just a little longer and he could finally be free. 

“What are you doing?” 

She knew what he was doing. It wasn’t the first time she had found him in some sorry state. Whether he was beaten to a pulp and laid out on the street, slicing off parts of his flesh with a rusty x-acto knife he stole off some petty thief, holding his hand over the open flames of his stove, or teetering off the edge of a skyscraper. She knew exactly what he was doing. 

He was forcing his body to reflect the pain he felt on the inside. 

Because when he looked in the mirror, his reflection didn’t speak the truth. He looked too whole. His body was intact. It wasn’t broken or damaged like he felt. It was lying to him. 

When he closed his eyes, he saw her blood still coating his hands. It had soaked through the Spider-Man gloves. It had sunk into his skin and dried in cracks along the lines of his palm. He didn’t need a palm reader to know that he was cursed. There was blood on his hands. Blood that could never be washed off. No amount of showers could erase her from his skin. 

It didn’t stop him from trying. 

The tender break in her skull haunted him. He had pressed his hand against the back of her head like he had held her so many times when she was alive. His fingers had sunk into the fragmented hole in her skull, accidentally coming in contract with the fleshy softness of her brain. Her beautifully, intelligent brain. Smartest woman in his class. Future scientist, Gwen Stacy. 

Gwendolyne Maxine Stacy, deceased. 

Cracked open her skull and spilled her brains across the ground because he was too slow. Neck snapped by his own web. Spine severed in two. He had failed her. She trusted him. She believed in him. And he had let her die. 

He didn’t deserve to live. 

“Peter, get up!” 

She was leaning over him, her sleeves were getting soaked in the pool of ice water around him as she tugged at his arm. 

Get up. 

Gwen never got up. Why should he be allowed to get up? 

This was where he belonged. Naked and broken. Surrounded by ice. 

“Peter, please…stay with me…Peter! Please! I can’t…I can’t live without you…get up…don’t you do this.” 

He could hear the tears thickening her voice and choking back sobs. He knew those words. He knew those cries. Pleading. Begging. 

He couldn’t let her feel like him. He couldn’t do that. He knew this pain too well. He couldn’t spread it forward. It was his to keep. His to hold onto. He couldn’t let it slip out of his grasp to someone else. Not to her. 

That’s why he never finished the job. 

He could push himself right to the edge but never take that final leap. It was his selfish burden to bear. He would carry it until the end of time. 

He opened his eyes.

For her.

Because he had already ruined one lover's life. 

Because he couldn’t ruin another's.

If you liked this and want more of this topic, I think you would really enjoy my one shot Nicest Thing.

[ggensblog]

Hiya! How are you? Could I request a fluffy fic with James Potter please? Maybe the reader ismt used to being loved, comes from a broken home, and everything James does flusters her while melting her heart. Like them sitting in the common room with friends but all James can think is to make sure the reader feels good and even braids her hair whilst getting teased by Sirius

damn y'all know how to tug on my heartstrings, I hope you enjoy ! thank you for the request <33

word count; 645

this is a fem!reader with hair about long enough to be braided

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It had been a long day of classes. Why you had so many in one day was a mystery to you but it didn’t matter anymore cause you were finally done. The halls and stairs seemed to be never ending as you made your way back to the Gryffindor common room. You wanted nothing more than to change into sweatpants and curl up in bed, maybe with James. 

When you finally made it back to the common room you found said boy and his friends sitting around the fire. Some of them studying, others very blatantly playing cards or talking to one another. You grinned at the sight. Hogwarts had become more a family to you than you expected, and it was a well needed family compared to what you were coming from.

James was really the only one that knew the extent of your issues back home, but never brought it up unless you wanted to. Everyone else just assumed you weren’t one to talk about your past.

You set your bag down at one of the tables and made your way to the group. Your bed could wait a little longer. It was almost like James could sense your presence without so much as looking up because before you knew it he had met you halfway and was pulling you into his arms.

You wrapped your own arms around his waist and let out a relieved breath. James’s hugs were nice, full of love, sincere, he-

“Everything alright lovely?” You look up at your boyfriend and smile softly.

“Yeah, they are now.” your arms move from his waist to hold his hands. James presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Alright we get it you’re in a loving relationship, Prongs are you in for the next round?” You could hear the playful eye roll in Sirius’s voice. He liked to tease the two of you, mostly because James was the only one you were affectionate with in public, but partly because he had no idea the way Remus looked at him when he wasn’t paying attention.

You and James walked back over to the couch, James settling on it, and you opting for the ground in front of him. It was almost immediately when James started to brush his fingers through your hair.

Physical affection you had learned was his love language. It was admittedly hard to get used to at first, but you knew every caress, every hug, every kiss, was always full of love.

You watched Lily and Sirius play cards, Peter sitting by and trying to play but ending up on the losing end of the game. Remus was scribbling something down on parchment, looking up every once in a while to see how the game was going.

James began to braid your hair back. Nothing major, just a simple braid, but it was exactly what you needed for the end of your day. Lily had taught him how to braid one day in potions when they were partners and her hands were coated in blue sludge. It turned out to be more in your favor that he knew how. Though it didn’t always turn out to be the prettiest braid, you appreciate his effort.

James tapped your shoulder and you handed him one of the hair ties on your wrist. You laughed as Lily took the round and moved to sit on the couch with James.

“Wanna talk about your day?” James shifted so you were laying with your head on his lap. You shook your head in reply, much more content and comfortable than you had been 20 minutes ago. James smiled and nodded then looked back as Sirius began to demand a rematch. Poor Peter had basically given up by now, but it remained all in good fun.

You couldn’t imagine a better way to end your day.

[frost-queen]

Claiming what is mine again (Reader x Peter Parker) TASM

Requested by: anon, Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex–awesome–22 @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco,   @subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine

Summary: You are an intern at Oscorp where you somehow surprisingly catches Peter. Your ex, due to an argument over Gwen things ended. In the elevator there is an awkward tension between you two. When a small confession has been made, it brings you back together.

You took a deep breath, waiting for the elevator to get on the right level. In the elevator was a mechanic as well. He tapped his finger against the toolbox he was holding, watching the numbers go up. The elevator reached its level, announcing it with a loud ding. You moved further back, noticing the man had come to the front. The doors swished open. He tapped his working hat, saying goodbye. You smiled politely back, watching him step out.

There was no one waiting for the elevator, so you decided to speed up the process and close the door. Pushing the button as it set them in motion. Setting your nameplate right, you took another deep breath. The elevator went further up. You stroke your lab coat to remove any wrinkles when you were close to the level you needed to be on. Ding.

The doors swished open as you got out. Two ladies passing you as they entered the elevator. You went straight on, passing by other scientist at Oscorp. Moving into the open space, you lifted your head up with a nod, noticing one of your partners wave at you. You quickly made your way over to her. – “Good to see you Y/n. Do you have the report?” – she asked, pushing her glasses further up her nose.

“Good to see you as well Rose.” – you answered, laying the file you had been carrying around on her desk. – “Straight from the boss himself.” – you said tapping the file with your fingers. Rose smiled taking it from under your hand. She sniffed it making you chuckle loud. – “It smells like excellence.” – Rose stated, hugging the file.

You placed your hand down on her shoulder. – “I am glad this report gives you much comfort Rose.” – you answered. Rose placed the file down. – “Of course.” – she turned more towards you; hand pressed on her desk. – “It is the very essence of our work. If I lack the data and numbers, we will get nowhere. Reports are the base of any good scientific discovery.” – she explained so passionate.

Smiling at her, she opened the file, reading through it rapidly. Absorbing as much information as she could. Pulling a stool back, you went to sit down on it. – “If there is anything uncertain, let me know so I can communicate it to our boss.” – you told her. She quirked her eyebrow up. – “I don’t know how you do it. Working for mr. Osborn so closely. I’ve heard he can be a difficult man.” – she told you.

You hummed softly. – “Under stress he can be, but Harry is not difficult to work with.” – you answered. Her eyes widening with twinkles. The way she stared at you, weirding you a bit out. – “What?” – you asked. She came rubbing her shoulder against yours. – “You called him by his first name. Sounds special to me. Is something blossoming between you two?”

You laughed loud. – “Me and Harry?” – laughing once more. – “No, nothing happening. I simply get to call him by his first name since we work so closely besides…” – you continued, attention drifting away to the people in front of you. It appeared they were giving another tour of the lab. – “Besides…” – you repeated trying to remember where you were going with your sentence. – “Besides?” – Rose said after not receiving more intel from you.

Eyes suddenly widening as you spotted a familiar face through the tour guests. Heart beating just a little bit faster at old memories. – “What is he doing here?” – you blurted out. – “Who?” – Rose questioned, getting on the tips of her toes to look around. You did not expect at all to see Peter Parker walk among the guests. Reminded clearly of the history you had with him.

He still hadn’t spotted you and that was good. Till. Gasping loud, you ducked down. – “Y/n? What are you doing?” – Rose asked, lowering herself to look under her desk for you. – “He saw me.” – you whispered out in a panic. – “Who?” – Rose asked confused. – “Peter.” – you told her. Rose gasped loud. – “You mean Peter as in Peter Parker your ex Peter Parker?”

“Yes!” – you groaned out. Rose looked back up, smirking. – “I’m sure you wouldn’t mind then that he is coming over.” – she said. – “What?” – you called out, bumping your head against the desk from being too startled. Rose waved flirtatious at him, luring him over. – “Rose, no!” – you shout-whispered not wanting to be discovered. – “Hi.” – you heard Peter’s voice nearby, making you panic. – “Is Y/n here? I saw her dive down.” – he told Rose. You couldn’t take it anymore, taking a run for it.

You moved from under the desk, running away towards the elevators. – “There she is.” – Rose laughed out, pointing in your direction. Peter saluted her, going in pursuit. You were desperately pressing the button for the elevator to come down and open. – “Y/n wait!” – you heard from behind. Attacking the button, you nearly broke it from being too desperate. The doors opened, two men getting out. You squeezed yourself through them, jumping into the elevator. Turning around you saw Peter move closer, calling for your attention.

Face contracted with panic; you started molesting the close button. Begging for them to close before he could reach it. The doors started to close, making you exhale loud. Body falling against the back as the tension faded out. Inhaling sharply through your nose, you couldn’t believe Peter jumped in between the doors closing just in time. You tried to head for the panel to open the doors once more, but he was standing clear in the way.

The elevator moved, making you nearly stumble to the ground. No escape now. You moved to the side, avoiding him. Peter came standing beside you, taking a deep breath. He tugged his hands in his pocket, looking up to the ceiling. This was awkward. This was so awkward. Swallowing nervously, it felt weird being in his presence. You noticed him glancing your way, making him immediately look away.

Peter cleared his throat awkwardly as the tension was too embarrassing. He focused on the numbers going down. Taking a deep breath, he decided to cut through the silence. – “I…I’ve missed you, Y/n.” – he told you, scratching the back of his head nervously. He quickly looked away, too bashful to look at you. You swallowed, thinking back of the stupid arguments you had with him about Gwen.

“I’ve missed you too Peter.” – you answered, pushing back the memories. That was all in the past now. The present was right in front of you at this very moment. Peter smiled softly, taking his hand out of his pocket. He subtilty moved closer to you. Your eyes widened briefly when he took your hand in his. You didn’t even protest once. Both watching the numbers of floors go down till you were close to zero.

Peter took a deep breath as the elevator reached level zero. Ding. He turned round, holding your cheeks, pressing his lips on yours. The doors opened, making those who were waiting to enter, stumble back in surprise. Peter smiled against your lips once you had kissed him back. The doors slowly closing once more.

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