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roosterforme · 5 months

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Brighter Than a Supernova | Bob Floyd x Phoenix's Little Sister

Summary: Bob planned to simply stop by Phoenix's Hanukkah party for a few minutes before heading back home. He'd hang out with the guys for a bit, even though he never quite felt like he fit in with them, and he'd meet the little sister Phoenix often referred to as annoying. But he had no idea how bright and magical one night could be compared to every other night that had come before.

Warnings: Fluff, swearing, feeling insecure, loss of virginity, smut, drinking

Length: 9000 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Phoenix's Little Sister (OC)

This was written for the Winter RomCom Challenge hosted by @bellaireland1981! Check my masterlist for more. Beautiful banner made by @ryebecca

"Bob, you're coming over tomorrow night, right?"

When he turned to look at his friend, Bob couldn't help the feeling of apprehension that washed over him. "I think so."

Natasha sighed and reached for his hand and gave him a little squeeze. He hadn't been at Top Gun as long as everyone else, and he felt like he didn't really fit in with them. Even now, the other guys were all hooting and playing keep away with Reuben's phone while Bob stood off to the side on the tarmac.

"There's nothing to be nervous about. It's just a Hanukkah party," she whispered with a smile. She always seemed to be able to tell when he got lost in his own thoughts, and he would be forever grateful that she was the pilot he got to fly with.

He shook his head and looked over at their Super Hornet. "I've never been to one before," he muttered. "And I'll probably just end up sitting quietly all night."

Now Natasha was squeezing both of his hands. "But we already drew names for our gift exchange. And you won't be the only one newer to the group. My obnoxious little sister, Nova, is coming in from New York, remember? She's graduating from college in the spring? She hasn't met any of the guys yet."

"But-"

"Bob, I really want you to come," she said firmly, looking up at him with her dark brown eyes. He trusted her in the air, he might as well trust her on the ground, too.

"Okay. I'll be there."

But when Bob parked his truck in front of Phoenix's tiny house on Saturday evening, his hands were shaking slightly as he held the wrapped gift. He absolutely hated that he got this way around the guys. They hadn't done anything to make him feel this way, really. He just generally didn't fit in anywhere, something he was very aware of at age twenty eight. But he would do this for Natasha.

He climbed out of his truck with the gift and a bottle of wine and walked up to the front door. Should he knock? Or just walk inside? It sounded noisy even out here, so after he tapped on the door a few times and nobody opened it, he just let himself in.

"Bob's here!" Jake called out from the couch, waving him over to where he was drinking a beer while Javy tried to spin two dreidels at the same time.

"Bob!" Natasha practically shouted as she ran his way. He had to juggle the bottle of wine so he didn't drop it. "Can you help me make latkes? Nova and I have been peeling potatoes for what feels like hours, and now we're heating up the oil."

"I don't know how to make latkes," he told her, but his eyes caught on the woman standing in the kitchen laughing at Bradley. He could only see her profile, but she had long, dark brown hair just like Natasha. Only she was a little taller and a bit curvier, and when she turned to look over her shoulder, he wanted to run and hide.

"It's easy, Bob. It's just a potato pancake. Nothing scary," Natasha whispered, trying to sound reassuring. "Come meet Nova, and you can help us cook."

He swallowed hard, realizing that the brunette goddess holding a potato peeler in one while she smiled directly at him was Natasha's little sister. The one she always referred to as obnoxious and annoying. This was... decidedly not what he had imagined.

Bob didn't know where to look. Every part of her was so pretty. She was wearing black leggings and a cropped long sleeve shirt that was purple and said NYU on the front. He could see some of the soft looking skin just above her leggings, and his eyes dropped to the floor in embarrassment. She was barefoot with neon orange painted toenails that for some reason made Bob a little short of breath.

"Bob, this is my sister Nova," Nat told him, rubbing his back gently as his gaze wandered back up along her curves. His eyes landed on her face as Natasha said, "Nova, this is Bob. Please don't annoy him."

"Hi," she said with a little smirk on her face. She tossed her hair over her shoulder and reached her hand out to him. "I've heard a lot about you, Bob."

He was terrified that he would stutter or trip over his words, but he just said something stupid instead. "You don't look annoying."

She laughed as she shook his hand. "Oh, I can assure you, I am." Her eyes were the same color as her sister's, but they were looking at him playfully as she nibbled on her lip. It was easy to tell Nova and Natasha were sisters, but there were some differences, too. Bob had the fleeting thought that he wouldn't mind just looking at her all night until he identified them all.

"Feel free to ignore her," Nat told him as she went to stand in front of the stove. "I usually do."

"I don't see how that would be possible," Bob murmured, and Nova laughed again before he realized what he'd said. He could feel his cheeks flush as he tried to look at anything besides her, but as soon as he did, Bradley dove for her attention.

"So tell me all about New York CIty," he said as if he'd never heard of it before. This was fine though. Better even. Nova and Bradley could just flirt all night, and Bob could help cook and then probably leave soon. That way everyone would win.

After a few minutes, he desperately wanted to ask Natasha if they could cook any faster so he could open his impersonal gift from one of the guys and get going. But he found that making latkes was actually pretty enjoyable.

"That's too much egg," she told him, laughing at his messy hands as his glasses slid down his nose. "You need more flour." But her hands were a mess, too, and Bob was trying to adjust his glasses on his shoulder.

When he turned to the side, he saw Bradley, Mickey and Jake all talking to Nova, but she was actually looking right at him as he very awkwardly shrugged his shoulder against his glasses. "I got you, Bob," she said, closing the distance to him and helping him out. She adjusted his frames on his face, and then she ran her fingers along his hair and behind his ears. "Better?"

He watched her pull her hands away and wished she wouldn't. "Yes," he whispered. "Thank you." Then he just stared at her as she made no move to back away.

"You're welcome. Do you celebrate Hanukkah?"

He swallowed hard as he washed his hands and shook his head. "This is my... first time."

Her eyes lit up. "Oh! Perfect! You can help me light the candles, and I can teach you the prayers."

"Might as well light the menorah now," Natasha told her as she flipped some of the squishy looking potato blobs over in the hot oil. The kitchen smelled like fried food, and there was a huge box of donuts that the other guys already got into. Javy brought the dreidels into the kitchen, and he was currently spinning five at one time. This holiday actually didn't seem so bad. Especially when Nova reached for his hand.

"Gather around," she announced with the kind of confidence Bob would never have, and all the guys followed her to the other side of the island. But she kept Bob right there with her and smiled up at him. "Here you go," she said, handing him the lighter. Then she stuck some candles in the menorah.

"Don't you light them from left to right?" Bradley asked as he sipped a beer and ate a jelly donut while glaring at Bob.

"Yes!" she replied as she put the last candle in for the eighth night.

"You want me to light them for you, Bob?" Bradley asked, and Bob was just about to hand the lighter over when Nova reached for his hand.

"I'm going to say a really pretty prayer in Hebrew about how Hanukkah is a time to celebrate miracles," she told him, seemingly ignoring the rest of the guys as Jake started whining that he was hungry. But Bob was transfixed. He was suddenly dying to hear this prayer. He could see the light smattering of freckles on Nova's cheeks as he stood this close to her. He never noticed before if Nat had freckles.

It would be a Hanukkah miracle if Bob could get through the evening. When she told him to light the center candle and then pick it up, he did. And then her hand joined his as they lit the candles together, but Bob wasn't looking at the menorah. He was looking at her face and the way her lips moved as she almost sang the prayer. Then he kept his hand on hers as long as he could, the warm candlelight making her face glow.

When she dropped her hand to her side, Bob could feel her fingers kind of tangle with his, and he had no idea what to do about it. He was suddenly painfully aware that he'd never had a girlfriend before, and he almost wished she was paying this much attention to someone else.

"Latkes are done!" Natasha announced, and Bob took a step away from Nova. He cleared his throat and then turned to leave the kitchen as everyone else made a dash for the food. When he retreated for the relative quiet of the powder room, he could feel dark eyes on his back.

Bob realized he'd been in the bathroom for long enough that someone might think he was sick, but he couldn't stop splashing cool water on his face. He had been prepared for something else tonight, but not this. Maybe Nova was just an annoying little sister to Phoenix, but to him, she was exquisite. He needed to leave now before he could embarrass himself more.

After he dried his hands, he quietly opened the door, but then he paused. He could hear voices. Two female voices, and he could easily tell them apart as he stood there eavesdropping.

"Natasha, you lied to me," Nova whispered loudly. "You said Bob was kind of nerdy!"

Oh no. She must have thought Bob was extremely nerdy. Perhaps he could make a run for the front door, and maybe nobody would notice he'd gone.

"I mean, he is," Natasha replied softly.

"No, he's not!" Nova hissed. "He's hot! You know I have a thing for glasses and biceps, you rotten liar!"

Now Bob was frozen in place. He was pretty sure they were talking about him, but there was a chance he misheard.

"Nova," Natasha snapped a little louder this time. "Bob is one of my best friends, and he's very kind. Do not toy with him."

There was a pause, but then Bob heard her soft response. "I wouldn't. You can tell how sweet he is from a mile away."

He looked in the mirror one more time before leaving the powder room. It wasn't that he was bad looking, it was just that he was awkward. Compared to the other guys, he was a joke. Maybe Nova somehow hadn't noticed that yet. He forced himself out to the small hallway where the two sisters were standing close together near the kitchen, and the way Nova looked at him just didn't make sense.

"Grab some latkes," she said as he walked past. "I'll save you a spot on the couch for the gift exchange?"

Bob swallowed hard. "Sure. Thank you."

When he ducked into the kitchen, he heard her whisper to Nat, "He has nice manners, too."

Nat groaned. "I can't believe you have a crush on my WSO."

"Yeah, well, you shouldn't have kept this information from me."

Bob was anxiously piling a plate with more latkes than he could probably finish when Nova flounced into the room, picked up her half empty glass of wine along with an unused one and winked at him. "I'll be in the living room, and I have a glass for you," she said.

He looked down at the potato concoctions on his plate, and they looked good. He tried a bite, and it was delicious, but he'd lost his appetite. Nova Trace had a crush on him, and now he had to go sit with her and drink some wine without looking like a moron.

After a few more bites, he pushed his plate aside and headed to the living room where she was sitting right next to Bradley. He had his arm draped across the back of the couch a little possessively, and Bob froze, blinking at the scene before him. He had the undeniable urge to remove Bradley's arm and wrap her up with own.

"Bob," she called, scooting away from Bradley and patting the cushion. Once he squeezed in between her and Bradley, he realized he was touching her no matter what he did. And then she took his arm and draped it around her shoulders, leaning back against his chest a little bit. "It's a tight fit," she said, handing him a glass of wine.

"Seriously?" Bradley grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest and shaking his head. Bob wasn't sure what to say as he had an armful of the cute girl who was in demand. This was all new to him. So he just drank all of his wine and pretended to watch everyone open their gifts.

When he set his empty glass down on the table, Nat handed him a small box wrapped in silver paper. He didn't recognize the pretty handwriting that said To: Bob.

"Oh," Nova whispered, reaching for it. "You don't have to open it."

"It's from you?" Bob asked, and she looked up at him over her shoulder, face just inches from his.

"Yeah, but it just seems kind of dumb now," she muttered, playing with the hem of her top. "Nat made it seem like you were super nerdy or something," she laughed. "And clearly that's not the case. You're hot."

Bob chuckled; this whole entire night was completely absurd. "I've never been called hot before."

Nova rolled her eyes. "You know what? Just go ahead and open your present," she said, shoving the small box closer to his chest while she blushed.

Bob started to carefully tear into the paper when Bradley leaned across Bob and asked, "I'm sorry, Nova, but did you just call Bob hot?"

"Yes," she replied immediately.

Bradley stood and grunted while he put on the hat that Javy just gave him that said 100% Certified Fuckboy. "She picked Bob. Nice work man," he said, patting Bob's shoulder. "Who needs a beer?"

"I do," Nat told him as she eyed Bob and Nova together on the couch with curiosity. Bob wasn't sure what he should even say to her. It wasn't like he was going to date her sister or something. She lived in New York.

"Open it," Nova whispered. "Just open it so I can get my embarrassment over with."

Bob couldn't believe she seemed more embarrassed about the gift than she did about announcing to the room at large that she found him attractive. When he took the lid off the box and looked inside, it was filled with a set of sky blue dice.

"I'm sorry," she said with a laugh. "Nat said you play Dungeons and Dragons, and I found the dice and thought they were pretty, and now I'm noticing that they're kind of the same shade as your eyes." She took the box from him, put the lid on and set it aside.

"Wait," he said, reaching across her to pick it up again. "I do play. And light blue is my favorite color. How did you know?"

"I didn't," she said, cheeks pink. "It's my favorite color, too."

He could see her freckles again as she grinned so close to him. Bob suddenly realized that the living room was getting loud as he held the box between his body and hers. "Thank you. I really like them. I was a little afraid to see what the guys were going to buy for me, so I'm glad it was from you."

"Nat dropped down on the couch on the other side of Bob as she spun the keychain around her finger that Bob got for her. "Thank you," she said, kissing him on the cheek as the airplane charm hit her palm. The guys were spinning as many dreidels on the coffee table as they could while fighting over the mound of chocolate candy coins. "You know, if it's a little too loud, you could always step outside for a minute," she told him, patting his thigh before joining the guys.

"Let's take a break," Nova said as she stood and pulled him to his feet. Bob felt like Nat had just given him some sort of permission. But for what? "I could use a break as well. It's hot in here."

She opened the front door and slipped out into the darkness on the small porch, and Bob joined her, closing the door and stifling the sounds inside. "Aren't your feet going to get cold?" he asked softly, looking down at her neon toenails.

"Good call," she replied before wrapping her arms around his neck and standing on the tops of his shoes. Bob's hands went to the soft curve of her waist immediately, startled by the sudden turn of events that had Nova's body pressed to his. "Is this okay?" she asked casually, looking up at him as she let her fingers trail down his neck.

His body was throbbing in delight as his brain cried out in terror. "Y-Yes. It's... very okay. You're very pretty." His eyes went wide as she laughed, and it sounded too intimate this close. He could feel her bare skin against his fingertips, and it was so soft. Softer than anything. He couldn't help the way he let his palms spread out on her back, as he blurted out, "I like you."

He noticed her soft smile first, and then her eyes closed. Bob was admiring how her eyelashes brushed her cheeks as she said, "I like you, too." And then she kissed him. She just kissed him. It was suddenly time for kissing. And then it was over before Bob really got to enjoy it. Nova was looking up at him like she was trying to gauge his reaction, but he just stood there trying to figure out what to do next.

Her fingers stilled on his neck before she released him and tried to step away, her face falling into a much shyer look. But he kept his hands on her back. Her lips were softly parted, and Bob wanted them on his again. Even though he wasn't quite sure if he was doing any of it right, he leaned down and pressed his lips against hers a little too hard at first.

She moaned softly as she brought her hands back up around his neck, and Bob eased himself back a little bit, making the kiss softer. This felt good. She had smooth skin and eager lips, and now her fingers were in his hair as her cheek bumped his glasses. He felt like he was getting the hang of things when she parted her lips and tasted his tongue.

Bob's hands slid down to grab at her hips through her leggings, and Nova laughed softly as she tasted him again. The soft vibrations against his lips had him more aware of his body than he ever had been before, but not in a bad way. He seemed to be making her feel excited as she wiggled her curvy hips back and forth slightly in his hands.

Nova broke the kiss and raked her fingers along his forehead and back through his tidy hair. "You smell good," she told him, leaning in close again and running her nose along his neck. "Like... something outdoorsy mixed with a fried potato."

He couldn't help but laugh as she kissed the spot next to his Adam's apple. "That sounds like it would smell bad."

"It doesn't," she reassured him with a giggle. "It just makes me want to taste you." Bob had to press his lips together and count to ten in his head as Nova ran her tongue in a slow and steady stripe up his neck to his ear. When her lips met his earlobe, his hands on her hips were pulling her body closer to his as she said, "I could eat you up."

She was still standing on the tops of his feet, but now Bob had her back pressed against the doorframe. They were making out, and it was all coming pretty naturally for him. She kissed his neck and told him something sweet, so he decided to go ahead and try the same thing. "I think I love kissing you," he said, his voice raspier than normal as she tipped her head back.

Nova was moaning his name as he kissed the front of her neck, and she pressed her thigh against him. And oh no... Bob had an erection. She didn't seem bothered, but he pulled himself a few inches away from her and looked down at her pretty face. "Do you want to go back inside?" she asked, her chest rising and falling as she caught her breath.

"Should we?" he asked softly, sliding his hands back up to her waist as she shrugged.

"Probably. But I'm sure they all know exactly what we're doing out here."

His eyes went wide. "They do?"

She smiled and ran her fingers along his cheek. "Yeah, I'd venture to guess they know we were making out, Bob."

How was he supposed to go back inside now? He thought about just leaving; his truck was parked right there on the street. But he didn't want to go without his new dice. Or Nova.

He cleared his throat. "Yeah... maybe we should go back in."

"Okay." But first she wrapped her fingers around the back of his neck and pressed one more soft kiss to his lips. "Just let me know if you want to take another break, because I'd be more than happy to tag along."

Then she opened the door, and the bright light and loud laughter coming from inside were enough to have him reaching for Nova's hand as she stepped down from his feet and onto the living room floor. She looked back at him with a coy smile as she laced her fingers with his. It was so obvious that they had been kissing. Bob knew he was blushing, and her lips looked a little puffy from the way he'd been enjoying them. When Jake fist bumped him as they walked past, Javy winked, and Bradley was on the couch with Nat pouting.

But Nat smiled and shook her head as Nova led Bob into the kitchen. "Want some more wine?" she asked, pulling a bottle from the refrigerator. There was something about the way she looked in the semi darkness as the candles from the menorah burned low. Her face was cast in warm light as well as shadows, and Bob found that leaning down to kiss her again was the most natural thing in the world.

The cold bottle was pressed to his arm, and she kissed him back. When Bob opened his eyes again, his glasses were crooked and two of the candles had burned out. The kitchen was even darker now as she pecked his cheek and then strolled out into the living room. He took a few seconds to consider that now he'd initiated more kisses than she had. The desire to follow her and kiss her again was so strong, he almost tripped when he thought about her going back to New York. Had he ever felt this way about a girl after a few hours? No. Absolutely not.

He knew he should have found another place to sit in Nat's tiny, loud living room, but when he saw the spot on the couch next to Nova was empty, he couldn't force his steps in any other direction. She tracked him with her eyes, clearly feeling no shame about what was happening here.

"How much have the rest of you had to drink?" she asked the guys. Jake was laying on the floor laughing while Javy tried to spin a dreidel on his nose. Bradley's cheeks were bright red, and he was half asleep at the other end of the couch. Mickey actually was asleep in the armchair. The only one who looked okay was Reuben.

"A lot," Javy said. "We turned dreidels into a drinking game, and clearly Nat is better than the rest of us." Nat winked at Nova who winked back. "And Mickey can't hold his liquor for shit."

Nova laughed at him in the armchair. "Is that a WSO thing, Bob? Or can you handle another glass of wine?" she teased.

"I can handle what you give me," he replied before he could consider how that might sound. She gasped softly and kind of nodded as she poured some more into his glass from earlier.

"I guess we'll find out."

She tapped her glass to his, and they joined in the game with the others. Bob had never played before, but he was a quick study. It certainly didn't hurt that Nova kept touching his hands as she taught him what to do. And two glasses of wine later, Bob felt lighter and more carefree. His right hand was resting on her lower back, and she leaned in to his side as the game progressed. And the best part was, Nat seemed more than okay with this.

In fact, as midnight was fast approaching, Nat stood and stretched. "I'm beat. I don't care who stays over, but Nova is in the extra bedroom, so the rest of you can fight over the couches."

Bradley and Mickey both snored in response while Reuben started to gather Jake and Javy off the floor. "I'll drop the two of you off," he said. "It was nice to meet you, Nova. Thanks, Nat."

"Thanks, Nat," Javy and Jake echoed as Nat waved. Nova blew them each a kiss.

Once they were gone, Nat started to gather up the empty wine bottles to take them into the kitchen, and Bob figured he should get ready to go as well. "Do you need help with anything?" he asked his friend, but she just waved him off. "No, I insist," he added.

He picked up some more of the trash the guys left, and as soon as he and Nova both stood, Bradley stretched out on the couch. "Just leave the rest of the mess. It's honestly fine. We can clean it up tomorrow," Nat said as she looked at her sister.

Nova nodded. "Yeah, I'll help you clean everything when we wake up."

They carried the trash they had already gathered in their arms to the kitchen, and then Nat hugged her sister before kissing Bob's cheek. "I'm assuming I'll see you again quite soon," she told him with an amused expression before she headed for the stairs.

Bob wasn't sure exactly what that was supposed to mean, but he wasn't going to dwell on it. Right now he had to figure out a way to say goodbye to the woman in front of him. He wondered if there was some way he could tell her that the few hours he spent with her somehow meant something to him. If she lived in San Diego, he thought he would very much like to take her to dinner. Maybe he could figure out a way to say so without completely ruining the moments they'd shared tonight.

"Nova, I-"

It was time for more kissing. She didn't hesitate at all, almost like she felt as comfortable with this as he did. Her hand found the bottom of Bob's tee shirt and eased the fabric up so her palm could rest flat on his abs. She nibbled gently on his lip before she let him taste her tongue. She was sweet like wine. Then his hands were back on her hips again as she eased his shirt up a little further.

"You had a lot to drink," she whispered with a wink, rubbing the tip of her nose against his. "Maybe you should come upstairs with me?" Bob wasn't drunk in the least, and he thought he knew what she meant. When his posture stiffened, she looked up at him. "It's just a twin bed, but we can both fit. If you want."

"You mean to... sleep?" he asked, embarrassed that he had to confirm instead of just knowing how to do things.

Her hand glided down to the top of his jeans, and she laughed softly. "We don't have to mess around," she said as she kissed his lips softly. "But I don't think I can keep my lips away from yours."

When Bob nodded in agreement, heart pounding rapidly, she took him by the hand. Mickey and Bradley were both sound asleep in the living room where Bob made sure to grab his box of dice. Then he let Nova lead him upstairs.

She looked back to smile at him a few times and tugged on his hand when he started to fall behind. Once they were in the extra bedroom with the soft lamplight and the door closed, Nova seemed a little more hesitant.

"Well, there's the twin bed," she said, gesturing toward it before putting her hands on her hips. Then she crossed her arms over her chest and laughed as she looked at the floor. "And I mean, obviously this was all a ploy to get to spend more time with you. But also, I don't think you should drive home after drinking so much wine." She paused before adding, "But mostly I just kind of thought maybe you and I could keep talking and making out."

Bob smiled when she looked up at him. "Yeah, I would like that."

She bit her lip, and Bob swore he had never in his life seen a woman who was so eager to be around him. He toed off his shoes before reaching for her hand again. And then he decided he was going to go for it. He was going to say what was on his mind as they both sat down on the edge of the bed together.

"Hey, Nova? I..." he paused as he looked at her pretty face, and he had to clear his throat before he kept going. "You're really... I like you a lot, and I just wanted you to know that if you lived in San Diego, I would ask you on a date."

She scooted a little closer and let her hand come to rest on his thigh. "Where would you take me?" she asked, pressing her lips to his jaw as he stuttered.

"I would... I'd take you to um, a restaurant that I like called Starlite. It's in the city. It's really pretty inside at night, and they have fairy lights and champagne. And I think you'd look beautiful sitting at one of the tables with me."

"Oh my god," she moaned against his jaw, and Bob had absolutely no control over how his body was reacting to her. "Tell me more."

He tried to keep talking as she moved her hand further up his thigh, but he wasn't sure he was making sense. "I'd get you whatever you wanted, of course. But the steak is really good, so I'd ask if you wanted that. And. And I'd be hoping the waiter was really slow, because you'd look so pretty with the soft lights all around you. I'd want to keep you there with me as long as I could."

"I want to go," Nova whispered, kissing his ear. "I can practically picture it."

Bob closed his eyes, willing his cock to stop having a mind of its own as her fingers went as high as the bottoms of his boxer briefs. If she kept this up, Bob would have to excuse himself, and he really didn't want to leave her right now. Then she straddled his thighs and wrapped her arms around his neck, and Bob's arms were full of her.

"I wish we could," he whispered, unsure what to do with his hands. "I'd take you there tomorrow, but Nat told me you're flying back east in the evening." He finally let his hands settle on her waist as she nodded sadly.��

"I am," she said as her lips brushed his. "But just humor me. Would you kiss me at Starlite?"

"I'd have to," he replied immediately. "It would be mandatory. All the light and shadows on your face... you'd be ethereal. And if you were looking at me, I wouldn't be able to help myself."

"Bob," she moaned against his lips, nibbling on him softly as her fingers went to his hair. "And where would you take me for our second date?"

He laughed as she licked his tongue. "You'd go out with me a second time?"

"You're joking right?" Nova asked, pulling back a few inches as she played with his hair. "This is all hypothetical, and it's still the best date I've ever been on."

"Okay," Bob replied, and he couldn't help but smile as she nodded for him to go on. "For our second date, I'd take you to the Mission Hills Rooftop Theater."

"What would we watch?" she asked, smiling as Bob let his hands drift up a little bit under her shirt.

He shrugged. "Probably a foreign film. You'd think it was cool, but I'd just be watching the way the colorful lights flickered across your face."

She squeaked softly. "Can we pretend we're at the theater now?"

"Sure," he whispered with a smile. "We're at the theater. You look beautiful, reading all the subtitles. But I lost track of the plot of the film already."

"Why's that?" she asked with a grin.

"Can't pay attention to anything except you."

She pushed on his chest until he was laying on his back, her long hair brushing the side of his face as she leaned down to kiss him. She was rubbing herself against his hard length through his jeans and making little sounds that he'd never heard before. His hands were stroking higher, and he could feel her bra with his fingertips. He didn't want any of this to stop.

"Now you seem like a respectable guy, Bob," she murmured. "Would you take me home with you after our second date or make me wait until our third?"

Oh no. Bob loosened his grip on her as he went silent. Nova was still kissing her way across his cheek to his ear when her movements slowed. She eyed him curiously before nudging the rim of his glasses with her nose.

"Bob?"

He swallowed hard and closed his eyes. "I don't know. I've never... taken a girl home before."

She looked down at him with a soft smile on her lips. "What?" she asked as she pushed her fingers back through his hair.

Bob was terrified that she would stop touching him as soon as he said the words. She was so lovely, gravitating right to him all night just the same way he subconsciously felt like he wanted to be near her. He already recognized that he could fall for his friend's little sister. Maybe he already had.

He took a deep breath as he adjusted his glasses. She was waiting for him to respond, and there was no point in lying about it now. "I'm a virgin."

Nova's brow creased, and her lips parted wordlessly. She examined his face, probably trying to see if he was lying, because there's no way someone his age shouldn't have lost his virginity by now. And it was a million times worse for a guy than for a girl. He knew that. It was all so very embarrassing.

She didn't laugh, rather she kissed the corner of his lips and simply asked, "How?"

Bob shrugged. "I'm awkward."

"No. You're hot," she replied, shaking her head. "That's not it."

He tried to turn his head and look away, but she followed his gaze until he returned her soft smile. "I'm not really sure," he whispered. "I got close a few times, but it just didn't seem right. That sounds dumb."

"No, it doesn't," she replied, surprising Bob as she kissed him again. "Are you picky?" she asked between each soft press of her lips to his.

"Yeah. Kind of," he told her honestly. "Always have been. Picky about who I spend time with.

She brushed her fingers back through his hair again, and Bob melted at her touch. "That makes sense. A guy like you should be picky."

Somehow Nova was making him feel a lot more normal about this as she wasn't shying away from him. "Picky," he confirmed. "And the timing was never right."

"That's important," she said with a smile. "You have to do what feels good to you."

Bob swallowed hard. He was picky, but he really liked Nova. And for some reason, tonight out of all nights kind of felt right. He could easily blame Nat's Hanukkah party and the soft glow of the menorah candles on Nova's face for getting him to this point. She was on top of him, still kissing him, and he didn't want this to end.

"This feels good to me," he blurted out, reaching up to push his fingers through her dark hair. "Tonight feels right."

She nodded, smiling as she crawled off of him, leaving Bob a little cold as he missed the feeling of her immediately. He sat up on the bed as she crawled up to the pillows and whispered, "Come here." She coaxed him along until she was laying on the pillows and he was on top of her, bracing himself with his arms so he didn't hurt her.

"Okay, so, we already went to Starlite for dinner and then to the Mission Hills Rooftop Theater. I'll give you until our third date to make your move," she whispered, grinning up at him as she ran he hands up his biceps. "Where are you taking me?"

He took a deep breath; now was not the time for this wave of confidence to falter. "Cliffs beach. I'm packing a picnic, and we can sit in the bed of my truck and watch the sunset while we eat."

Nova moaned again and hooked her leg around Bob's thigh, pulling him impossibly closer. "Dinner was perfect. But now that the sun went down, I'm a little chilly."

"Well, I could keep you warm." He kissed her. "I'd hold you as I tried to work up the nerve to ask you if you wanted to come back to my place."

"I'm wrapped up in your arms, patiently waiting for you to ask," she replied with a smirk.

He nodded, and he knew he was blushing. This whole thing was kind of silly, but it just made sense. "I really like you. I could probably fall for you. If I let myself," he whispered, and she whimpered softly. "Do you want to come back to my place, Nova?"

"Absolutely."

Her hands were all over his face and in his hair, and eventually she took his glasses off and set them on the nightstand. She kissed him slowly as she rolled her hips up against his, and Bob blushed as he got hard again. When she carefully pulled his shirt off, she set it next to the pillow, and then she explored his body with her hands. But as soon as she pulled her own NYU shirt off and was laying beneath him, she arched her back.

Bob reached beneath her, and he fumbled for a few seconds before he unhooked her bra. As he pulled the black lace away from her body and looked down at her breasts and her confident face, he marked this as the furthest he'd ever gone with a woman. She seemed to sense he needed a moment as she ran her fingers through his hair as he stuttered, "You're gorgeous."

Nova looked up at him with her playful dark eyes, but right now they seemed a little more serious. "I could probably fall for you, too."

Then his lips were on hers, and his hands went to her breasts gently stroking each soft handful. He could fall for this, he was sure of it. He wanted to take her on all of those dates, and he would have if he could have. He was charmed by her, and she seemed equally interested in him.

"Bob," she moaned, breaking the kiss and tipping her head back as he pushed himself against her core. He brought his lips down to taste her breasts, and soon she was rolling her hips a little faster. "That feels good," she whispered as she looked up at him. "I like that."

Nova responded just like that to everything he did. When he kissed the side of her neck, she blushed a pretty shade of pink. She shivered for him when he ran his fingers down her side. When he paused with his hand just above the top of her leggings, she whispered, "Bob, you're making me kind of crazy."

She guided his hand down a few more inches with her own, but she didn't get annoyed when he took his time pulling her leggings and underwear off. His heart was pounding as he looked at her, completely naked. Maybe she could sense his hesitation, because she sat up, too, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I'll tell you if I don't like something, okay? And you do the same?"

He nodded. "I like everything so far. I just don't want to mess this up."

"You won't," she promised, taking his face in both of her hands and kissing him softly at first. Then her lips became more demanding, and Bob wrapped one strong arm around her, pulling her on top of him. She giggled against his lips before swiping his tongue with her own.

Her fingers roamed his bare torso and found the light trail of hair below his belly button. "I'm going to take your jeans off," she whispered, carefully unbuttoning and unzipping them. Her hair was already kind of a mess, and he knew his must have been as well. But then all thoughts left his mind as she started to pull his pants down. Bob wasn't dumb; he knew he was at least average size from the amount of time he'd spent in naval locker rooms. But he was surprised by her soft gasp when she pulled his underwear down far enough that his erection sprang free. Then his jeans, socks and underwear were in a pile at the bottom of the small bed, and he was naked, too.

He grunted as she wrapped her hand around him. This was the best thing he ever felt. Until she kissed him there. "Oh god, Nova. Wait," he moaned, and she looked up at him with wide eyes. "Don't we need a condom?"

She responded by licking his length before crawling up his body to kiss his lips. "I can go ask my sister if she has any if you want to use one."

"No!" he gasped, nearly headbutting her as he sat up. "No, don't do that." Bob wasn't sure that Natasha would respond kindly to that question coming from her sister. "Please don't."

But Nova was all smiles as she straddled his waist. "Okay," she whispered as he braced himself with his hand behind him on the bed. "I won't alert Natasha to the fact that we're about to have sex."

Bob sighed in relief and reached out to push her hair behind her ear. "Actually, if you could not mention her again right now, that would be great."

Now she was laughing softly as she scooted up until Bob could feel her wet pussy rubbing his cock. "Promise," she confirmed as he looked up at her face. When he glanced down between them, all he could see was her perfect body and his cock jumping against her in excitement. "I'm on birth control anyway," she whispered, kissing along his jaw. "And I know you're a little nervous, but so am I."

"Why?" he asked, surprised by her words.

Nova hummed as she kissed her way back to his lips. "I want this to feel good for you." She wrapped her arms around his neck as she slowly rolled her hips against him and made the softest sounds. His heart rate picked up as she added, "I want you to think about our hypothetical dates after I'm gone."

He was sure he would be thinking about Nova for a very long time. She was all gentle fingers in his hair and confident smiles. She was beautiful, and Bob could easily get addicted to this.

She guided him to lay back on the pillows as she asked, "You ready?"

"Yeah." His voice sounded hoarse as he looked up at her and pushed her hair over one shoulder. When he let his hands trail over the soft skin of her shoulders, breasts and sides, she shivered as she kissed him. Bob could feel her hand around his length, and then his head tipped away from her as he moaned. "Does that feel good?"

Good. That didn't seem like the right word for it, but now his brain felt a little hazy. Nova's lips ghosted over his as he moaned again. She felt tight and inviting, and when she rolled her hips with him inside her like this, Bob gripped her hip a little tighter. His other hand ended up tangled in her hair as he traced her freckled cheek with his thumb. "Nova," he gasped against her lips before devouring her.

Her soft noises got a little louder, and each roll of her hips had Bob praying that this would never end. Every passing second was better than the last. Every time she whispered his name and tasted his tongue was too exciting. When she ended up on her back, looking up at him with wide eyes and parted lips, he kissed her neck and pushed himself deep inside her.

"Oh," she moaned, and he had to slowly shake his head to keep his focus. Her leg was hooked up around his hip, and he was suddenly very aware that he didn't know how to make her orgasm.

"Nova?" he gasped as she reached for his hand. But he should have known she'd be willing to help him with this as she showed him where and how to rub her.

"Fuck," she whined, taking a few gasping breaths. "That feels so good." He kept moving his hips, too, and a few seconds later, as she was nibbling on his lip and whining, he felt her squeezing around him. "Bob. Bob. Bob!"

Her back was arched off the bed, and her breasts bounced with every wild breath she took, and then he had no idea it would all happen so fast for him. He tucked his face against her neck and shoulder as he bucked into her without finesse. He couldn't control it. He came so hard, his vision looked like a kaleidoscope of colors when he opened his eyes. But she was right there, and she was perfect.

He half collapsed against her chest as she played with his hair, and it felt like it might have been a long time before he moved. Bob wrapped his arms a little tighter around her, and even though he thought he should feel timid, he didn't. He felt so relaxed and almost loved as she touched him like this. When he tipped his face up to look at her, she was smiling.

He was picky, and the timing never felt right before now. But Nova was lovely, and tonight was the right night. "My Hanukkah wish is to go on all of those dates with you," he whispered, and she closed her eyes as she blushed. "And see how pretty you'd look with the sun setting and all the fairy lights."

She leaned up slightly to kiss his lips. "I wish we could."

As she laced her fingers with his, Bob whispered, "Maybe we can trade phone numbers? And talk until you get tired of me."

She nodded and asked, "And what if I don't ever get tired of you?"

Bob studied her face as she ran her fingers through his hair and down his neck to his shoulder. "Then we'll go on the dates for real."

Eventually they fell asleep around four in the morning after talking and having sex again. When Bob woke up at nine, it was to Nova's lips on his neck and her voice in his ear. "Morning, Bob."

He just held her a little tighter. When they went downstairs, nobody was surprised they'd spent the night together, not even Nat. She greeted him with a kiss on the cheek, and he ended up staying all day, even after Bradley and Mickey both left. He just wanted to be around Nova for as long as possible, but eventually he had to leave so her sister could take her to the airport. So she could go back to New York.

"I'll miss you," she promised when she walked him out to his truck. She took his phone and saved her number for him.

"Should I text you now? So you have mine, too?"

She wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered, "Fair warning, once you text me, I'll write back and probably never stop."

Bob laughed softly and quickly typed up a text to her while she kissed his neck.

I miss you already, and I didn't even leave yet.

Then he kissed her back until her sister started yelling out the front door about going to the airport. "Bye, Bob," Nova whispered before kissing his cheek and bounding back in the house. As he drove away, his phone lit up in the cup holder with a series of texts from her, and he hoped she was telling the truth when she said she wouldn't stop.

----------------------------

Five months later...

"Are you really this nervous to see her again?" Natasha asked him as they walked through JFK airport together. "You've talked to her everyday for months. Hell, you flew out to see her for a weekend in March."

Bob blushed as he thought about those three days when he'd been here during a late winter snowstorm that kept him and Nova inside her apartment for most of the weekend. She'd hardly let him out of her bed. And while they weren't dating, not exactly, Bob knew he wanted to be.

"Yeah, I'm a little nervous. She has no idea I'm here for her graduation. Do you know how hard it was to lie to her?"

Nat laughed as they walked outside in the May sunlight to get a cab to Nova's apartment. Bob was slightly afraid she'd be upset when they got there. Or maybe there would be evidence of another guy. It might break his heart, but he'd have to accept it. But he just couldn't get past that night they spent together during Hanukkah, and he'd been falling in love with her since then. Even over the phone.

"I'm sure she'll be happier to see you than me," Nat told him. It seemed like no time passed at all before they were pulling up to the building he'd only seen once when it was surrounded by a layer of snow.

He got out of the cab and stood awkwardly on the sidewalk as Natasha got her phone out. She looked up at him with a smile as she called her sister. "I'm here," she said before looking at the blank screen. "She screamed and then hung up."

Bob laughed nervously with his backpack on and Nat's hand rubbing his arm in a soothing circle. "If she's not excited to see me, I'll just get a hotel room or try to exchange my ticket for something earlier," he mumbled.

But the next thing he knew, Nova was throwing open the door to her building. She barely looked at her sister before she gasped, "Bob!" and launched herself down the stairs and into his arms.

"Hi," he whispered as she clung to the front of him and shamelessly kissed his lips and neck right in front of her sister. "I missed you."

She moaned softly and wrapped her arms around him as she let her cheek rest on his chest. "You brought me Bob? Is he my graduation present?" she asked Natasha as Bob ran his fingers through her hair and chuckled.

"Something like that," she replied, reaching for the key that was still in Nova's hand. "I'll meet the two of you inside."

As Nat let herself in the building, Nova looked up at him. "You lied to me. You said you had to work this weekend."

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'll never do it again." She was melting into his touch as he cleared his throat and added, "I know you're still going on interviews and trying to decide on a job, but I took next week off just in case I could persuade you to come back to San Diego for a bit."

She smiled. "Now why would I want to do that?"

Bob shrugged. "I just really think we should go on those three dates before I ask you to be my girlfriend."

"Starlite. Mission Hills Rooftop Theater. Cliffs beach," she said softly.

"In that order," he confirmed. "But I'd be taking you home with me after each one."

"Then yes."

---------------------------

Happy Holidays! I'll be thinking about Bob and Nova through the New Year. Thanks to @mak-32 @beyondthesefourwalls and @ryebecca

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deadsetobsessions · 3 months

Text

Listen, I know it’s not my usual thing, but I just re-read Dark Matter by mysterycyclone (iconic, so good, incredible, I’ve reread this at least ten times) and this newer work, Help Me, I Don’t Feel Like Myself Anymore by Astra_Nova_Kat (it’s off to a really good and fleshed out, very long start- it’s like 20k for the first chapter omg).

I just. Love?? Them??? They’re both, urg, so good. The writing style, the way the story moves, the natural progression of plot and their usage of tropes are so well done that rarely does it feel awkward. Amazing. Anyways, they inspired me to put my two cents into the proverbial offering hat and while this might not ever be a realized fanfic, here it is? This will have multiple parts.

Uh, I’m basing Peter’s personality off of the really tired millennial energy Tobey Maguire gives, the awkward but well meaning disaster vibes of Andrew Garfield, and the sassy acrobatic chaos gremlin of Tom Holland. All kind of mushed together with the hyper competence and maturity of both the PS4 spidey and pretty much most spider people. He’s 22, or something but that doesn’t really matter?? Background doesn’t really matter because I’m basically making my own spider-verse. Spider… past? Eh. New Peter!

Spider in Gotham AU- Pt.1

[Pt.2]

——

Spider-Man swung through the skyscrapers of his city, enjoying the winds and sounds of New York as he kept a sharp eye out for crime.

He remembered doing this without any of the fancy tech his suit had now, when he was dressed in less protective clothing. God, 100% cotton while crime fighting? The spandex was better but god ugly.

His spider-sense blared. Spider-man quickly shot a web to the top of the building, going towards the danger instead of away from it.

He goes in feet first, years of knocking common thugs to legitimate gods to the ground making short work of the people on the roof top. He flips out of the way, dodging a blast of crackling green energy.

“Heyyyy, common robbers! What’s up with shiny lasers, huh? Breaking and entering not doing enough for ya?”

Spider-Man dodges a couple more shots, flipping again to knee a guy in the face, gently. The man goes down in one shot.

“Stay still, you motherfucker!”

“Does that actually work for you guys?? Like I’m down to get killed but, man, I’m not gonna stay still to get downed by some two bit thugs?” Spider-Man kept his words light and mocking, webbing up a laser gun and yanking it out of the woman’s hands. He punches her in the face and knocks her out, using the laser gun like a mildly bulky baton.

“Eat shit, Spider-bitch!”

“Ouch! Oh no, my feelings! You’ve hurt them!” Spider-Man shoots a web at the lady who’d shouted and yanked, before smacking her straight down to the concrete of the rooftop. His hearing picked up two people coming up the stairway and Spider-Man tossed two web bombs, the metal mechanism attached itself to the wall, waiting for their unknowing victims.

Spider-Man ducked and weaved, downing goons as they piled on him while shooting bullets, lasers, and just charging at him with a bat or a crowbar. After eight years of pretty much this exact thing, Spider-Man had gotten the science of breaking up goon dog piles without hurting them too much to an exact measurement. He quipped at them until they got annoyed, which made them sloppy. Spider-Man sighed as another guy came at him with a crow bar and a gun that he was pretty sure was still stuck on safety. He crouched, kicking out their legs and dodging a swipe of a bat where his ribs would have been and webbed the guy to the floor. Yeah, he’ll wrap this up and end patrol. Maybe he still had Mac n’ Cheese at home, or he could stop by Angelo’s for a sub?

Huh. His options for dinner was limited.

“Take this!”

Even without the forewarning of his spidey-sense, Spider-Man would have ducked out of the way regardless.

“Shouting your sneak attacks isn’t actually all that sneaky, you know!” Spider-Man kept his voice cheery and mocking.

“Get him!”

God, why were there so many people trying to break into an insurance company? This definitely doesn’t smell like a regular B&E. With the shit he’s seen in New York, if it smells like a plot, acts like a plot, then it’s probably a villain with a tragic backstory with big, annoying plans.

Great.

Oh, speak of the devil!

“Spider-Man.” His senses blared.

He couldn’t move out of the way fast enough, not without risking the life of the goon he was currently fighting, so Spider-Man took the blast the punched the breath out of his lungs. The wide eyes of the goon made up for some of the pain.

“Ugh!” Spider-Man slammed into an HVAC, denting the metal. His suit, made special polymer blend from Wakanda that he saved for months to get, absorbed some of the shock. Shit, he hoped it didn’t tear. It would be a bitch and a half to dip into the back up stock he had in his hammer space.

The goons left standing quickly rushed him and held him down to face the new boss.

“You’ve been getting on my nerves, Spider.”

“Yeah,” Spider-Man coughed out, letting the two goons think they could hold him down on his knees as he recovered his breath. “I have that effect on people.”

“But you could be an asset, if you’d join me?”

“Uh, I don’t join or sign things without knowing what I’m joining or signing, my guy. My lawyer said so.”

The villain paused, helmeted head cocking to the side.

“You have a lawyer?”

“Yeah. Kind of? He does pro-bono work for the helpless cases. You know, like, a well meaning, crime fighting vigilante?”

“…Does he do cases against insurance companies?”

“Oh man, you too? Dude, this place sucks,” Spider-Man sighed.

“You’ve had trouble too? Then you must see why I’m doing this!”

This was a bit weird, but if there’s anything that brings people together, it’d be corrupt insurance companies. He’s almost tempted to let them break in, just to be extra petty.

“Nah, my neighbor? Sweet old lady. They’re screwing her out of her entire place. I totally get it, man. Hey, if you need a referral, you can tell my lawyer that Spider sent you. He’s real good.”

“How good?” The goons release him and Spider-Man stood up, stretching his limbs.

“Like, Dare Devil good.”

“You know Matt Murdock??”

“Sure do.”

“He… he’ll take on our cases?”

“Dang, all of you?”

“Yes. We can pool enough money to pay him for one or two.”

“Nah, I’m pretty sure he’ll take you guys on for free. But it wouldn’t hurt if you all went to meet him, just so he can decide which one of you has a higher chance to win in court?”

“We will. Uh.” The villain paused sheepishly. Well, not a villain, more like an unfortunately angry and poor decision making citizen. “Sorry about… you know, the blast.”

“It’s cool. I mean,” Spider-Man gestured to the rooftop, the bodies of unconscious people kind of laying around where he knocked them down. “You guys might wanna check on them, yeah? I’ll let you go for now, but if you commit a B&E again, I’ll leave you webbed up for GCPD to find.”

“Got it. Sorry.”

Feeling good about himself, and plotting corporate espionage, Spider-Man went to help pry some people from his webs.

And of course, because Parker Luck kicks in only when Spider-Man felt like life was looking up for himself, Spider-Man’s senses blared once more as he knelt down to pull at some webbing.

“Oh, shit!” He heard, right before a cold blast of something slammed right into his head, knocking him out.

And Spider-Man

——

Larry looked at the the empty space where Spider-Man, the guy who took a hit from his boss’ blaster so he wouldn’t get hurt, used to be.

He twisted.

“Boss, what the fuck?!”

“Shit! That was accident!” Boss pulled herself up from the concrete, where she just ate dirt.

“Where did he go?”

“I don’t know, Larry! That was the experimental warped mode! Crap!” His boss scrambled with the controls, desperately trying to see if the magic gun her magician friend had handed her years ago had a reverse button. It didn’t.

“Why would you bring a test weapon into the field?!”

“I gave you all of my other ones!” She threw up her hands. “Fuck, I feel so bad.”

Larry paled. “Dude, Dare Devil’s gonna kill us.”

“He doesn’t kill!” His boss hesitated. “I think.”

Larry pointed to the empty space. “Yeah? He might start with us. Spidey was a cool guy and you just disappeared him!”

“I know!”

Larry buried his head into his hands and tried not to hate himself for the entire situation.

——

Spider-man woke up, laid flat on the grimy ground of an alleyway.

“Ugh. Just my luck.” He kept his eyes closed for just a beat longer to allow himself time before having to pull his shit together. Why was his voice high? And a bit squeaky? He pulled himself together.

“Okay.” He whispered to himself, before sitting up and taking stock of the situation.

First thing that hit him was that it stunk to high heavens. Gagging, Spider-Man looked to the right and- yeah, that’ll do it. He stood up on wobbly legs to try to move away from the overflowing dumpster.

That’s when the second, more important and decidedly more troublesome, observation hit him.

He’s short. Shorter. And his suit was hanging off of him.

He could tell he still had his normal by now physiology, with the speeding heartbeat and the feeling of super strength. But he’s shorter. With a mounting sense of equal parts dread and resignation, he pulled at the hidden seam by his nape, relying on his both his enhanced senses and spidey-sense to tell if anyone was nearby or looking at him. He pulled the Spider-Man suit off, blankly folding it neatly as he stared dumbly at his hands. They’re small too. Shit. He stumbled to a nearby mud puddle and stared down, seeing his younger face in the contaminated water. Double shit.

He’s starting to loose his composure. He’d gone through a lot of bizarre things over the last eight years. But getting accidentally Detective Conan’ed by a person he just helped was a new low.

The black under layer of his suit, a slash proof and fire resistant polymer Peter had designed himself in MIT’s lab, was in a similar state.

With one hand, Peter Parker numbly rolled up his sleeves and pant hems. Great. Okay. Now what?

Ah. Shoes. He did not want to walk around in his too-big Spider-Man boots. He looked around. Well, there’s the laces of what looked to be like a pair of dumpster shoes. “Yeah, no.”

Shit. Does he still have access to his hammer space?

Peter reached into his pocket, and tried to reach for a pair of normal sneakers. His shoulder slumped as he produced a pair. Fuck yes. He still has access! And shoes! They’re ones he took off of a power line for a well off kid who didn’t want it anymore. He was going to donate them to F. E. A. S. T. but he’s thanking the stars he procrastinated a bit on swinging by the center. He put them on. They’re a bit big, but it’s better than the giant-in-comparison ones he normally wears. You know, as an adult.

He hesitated with his mask. He should at least figure out where he is. He hoped it was still in the states. His mask blinked, the HUD in his lenses informing him that it was trying to find a connection. “That’s weird.” He paused, grimacing at the sound of his voice. But it is weird, because he had his mask automatically connected to the world wide satellites Tony Stark had sent circling the globe for citizens without internet access as a back up option. So either he was somewhere even the Stark Satellites couldn’t reach or…

Peter swallowed, his mask pinging as it found a connection to piggy back on. He clicked his tongue twice to activate the voice controls.

“Connect to the local maps. Where am I?”

His masked followed the order. [Gotham. New Jersey.]

Peter stared at the words, gut churning.

Good news, he was still in the States. Bad news? He’s shrunk, in a totally different state, and possibly in a different world because he’s not connected to the Stark Satellites he knew operated in New Jersey.

Peter Parker tilted his head back and allowed himself one verbal, panic level six and up, curse word.

“Fuck.”

He took off his mask and leaned against a slightly cleaner part of the wall before hyperventilating.

——

Half an hour later, Peter smacked himself on the cheeks and pulled himself together.

“You’re Spider-Man,” he hissed to himself. “Have a mental breakdown somewhere warm, you dumbass.”

Peter Parker was a champion, world class expert at compartmentalization.

He slipped his mask back on, and pulled up his “So You’re Stuck in an Alternate Universe” list he had made with Ned so many years ago when they were high school kids and going through comic books to make contingencies because Peter was a little idiot vigilante hero.

“I didn’t think I’d actually ever need this kind of thing.” Peter muttered. He slipped his black back up gloves on to connect to his mask’s display in order to type.

“Okay,” he glanced at the side by side screens in his lenses. “Money.”

Five things.

1) The emergency cash he’d stashed on him thankfull matched the pictures of cash he’d found on this world’s internet. Yay!

2) He had $1000 tucked away. Not yay. Not if this might be a long term stay before he got back to his own dimension. Not if he wanted a place to sleep.

3) Luckily, thanks to his earlier search of where the hell he was, Peter figured out that due to the high crime rates- “Dang, that’s worse than New York on New Year’s Eve,” he had marveled- Gotham was dirt cheap and that that meant 1k dollars could actually last him a while and he could afford a room for a month on $250. A whole ass apartment for $550. Peter seriously considered staying in this universe just for the rent prices. So what if there’s rampant crimes? He’d deal with it if the rent was that cheap.

4) Problem? He’s fucking tiny. Who would rent to a person that looked like child? Not anyone upstanding, that’s for sure. He’s more likely to get mugged. Counterpoint: he’s in a city where apparently shady people are all around. Also? He doesn’t have an identity.

5) If the fact that he couldn’t connect to the Stark Satellites didn’t convince him he was either in another universe or an alternate dimension, the visual graphics of the websites he visited would. It was like looking at Windows in the early way before Stark Co. bought them out and improved the design. Nauseating.

Okay, so, money’s not too urgent of an issue. Next on Ned’s list: Places of Interest.

Namely, libraries, homeless shelters, crime hotspots, and the like.

Peter snorted when he came across an opinions article talking about how Park Row became Crime Alley. And then he frowned, because that story was not painting this place to be even remotely nice. Then again, considering the crime rates and the various Rogues this place seemed to have in spades, that wasn’t much of a surprise. Peter marks the place in his new mental map of Gotham as a potential area he could either disappear to or get a new identity at. He then marked the libraries, Gotham City Public Library and its many branches all funded by generous donations from a Bruce Wayne, the Martha Wayne foundations’ shelters and charities, two supermarkets near the library, and a coffee shop he thought looked warm and cozy from the shitty pictures they have uploaded online. He needed coffee, dammit, and he needed it hours ago. Alas, he probably wouldn’t get to go to one until he secured his finances.

Well, it’s not like he doesn’t have practice being poor.

3) Which brings him up to Ned’s next, surprisingly reasonable for a teenager hoped up on a mountain load of sugar, point. Level of Tech.

Peter hid next to the dumpster, melding in with the shadows, as he continued his research.

Tech here was… well, he probably wouldn’t have to worry. The thought of not having a Starkphone, even his older model, was painful considering the new versions of these WaynePhones were really… behind. Peter doesn’t remember the last time he had buttons on his phone or let alone a touch screen that didn’t use facial tracking and biometrics or even have a holographic display mode.

“Ugh. Okay. Not the end of the world, Parker.” Peter muttered.

Now… People of Interest.

This was underlined three times with Ned’s red pens, with extensive subcategories.

Subcategory A? Villains, because “what if they put out a warning for a known villain and you get your butt kicked because you didn’t know about them, Peter? Wouldn’t that be embarrassing?”

He had replied, half focused on the list and the other on savoring the Millennium Falcon Lego set May had saved up for months to get him for his birthday, “I feel like if I was getting my butt kicked by a villain, I’d probably have better things to worry about than my utter humiliation, Ned.”

“True that,” Ned had snicked and jotted it down anyways.

And… well, Gotham had a lot of villains. The Joker (ew, that’s a crusty man in crustier face paint. This guy could learn so much from the cool mimes busking in Central Park. Like, how to do face paint. Or how not to be a massive murderous jerk. There’s Clayface, Two-Face, a bald guy in “Metropolis” (a name Peter couldn’t help but snort at because a city named city? That’s like na’an bread being bread bread. Or chai tea being tea tea) named Lex Luthor, and Scarecrow. He tabbed all of them and marked them for further perusal at a later date. From experience, he knew villains with a prominent M.O. and themes usually did more damage. Case in point: Rhino, and the million dollars of property damage the guy did everytime he escaped the Raft. Peter was seriously considering petitioning for the Raft to be placed further out just so he could have more warning the next time some assholes decided to free the prisoners and helped them escape.

He narrowed his eyes at the screen, his mask’s lenses following the movement. He’ll have to pick up a gas mask. Apparently bio-weapons are just a regular thing here and he really didn’t want to get dosed with this “fear toxin.” It’d be dangerous for everyone involved. Maybe if he gets his hands on a sample, he could build up tolerance and see how his immune system and metabolic rates affected the normal progression of the toxin. Ah, off topic. He’s gotta focus.

Subcategory B: Local celebrities.

“Why would I need to know local celebrities?” He’d asked.

“If someone came up to you and asked “Who’s Tony Stark?”, wouldn’t you clock that as super weird? You gotta blend in, Peter. Plus, you gotta keep up with the pop culture, dude. It’s important.”

“You just want alternate universe memes,” Peter grinned.

“That too. If you ever go to an alternate universe and come back, you’d better bring me a truckload of memes or I’ll never forgive you.”

Yeah. So. Wayne? Super important. Like Tony Stark levels of important. He found threads about them and the local vigilantes and their charity works. Peter’s brain instantly catalogued the info, all but memorizing the deluge of pictures he found of Bruce Wayne and his kids. Maybe the man had an adoption problem? Conspiracy threads and memes popped up alongside his research. He tabbed one on secret societies, because as Spiderman, he had fought a disturbing amount of secret societies that, on hindsight, had been theorized about on threads he’s read on his free time. Somehow, somewhere, somewhen, a conspiracy theorist could be right. Peter’s not about to dismiss that. He also saved like thirty different memes to send to Ned when he got back. If he got back.

Peter smacked that thought away. He’ll get back to his city or die trying.

Subcategory C, underlined and starred: Other Superheroes and Vigilantes.

Yeah, Peter’s excited about this one too. After Matt stopped being Dare Devil (but did he actually ever stop?) and Wade dipping in and out of NY, Peter’s gotten lonely as Spider-Man. He missed training with them. Of course, the fantastic four were still operating, but he doesn’t actually interact with them or the Avengers at all. Miles hasn’t been cleared (by his mom) to go out as Spiderman with near as many hours as Peter cleared a night. Peter stood behind that because he remembered how horrible it was to work as Spiderman and try to balance school on top of it. Also, he was terrified of Mrs. Morales and would never endanger her son more than he already does. He did wave to Black Widow from a rooftop once, spider to spider, and that was pretty much the coolest moment of his life.

So. Uh. The amount of vigilantes and heroes in this world? Amazing. In Gotham? There’s like, a whole team of them.

Batman, Nightwing (who, Username: Draken Draken had theorized, was the first iteration of Batman’s sidekick Robin), Red Hood, Black Canary, Huntress, Red Robin, Spoiler, the “day vigilante” Signal, the current Robin, and whispers of a “Black Bat.”

And their unfortunate “No Meta” rule with the singular exception of Signal. Peter figured their term of Meta was essentially the same thing as his world’s mutants. He’s not sure which term he liked more. Eh, he’ll worry about that later.

And there’s a Justice League! Which, to Peter, is just a bigger Avengers. There’s aliens on this world too. Superman. Martian Manhunter.

Peter grinned from his place crouched next to the dumpster. Yeah, this is awesome. He quickly memorized everything he could find, cross referencing posts and picking out the nuggets of truth or at least popular truth from the posts he viewed. Like, Red Hood operated in Crime Alley and was a crime boss with morals. Cool.

He’ll go down the spiral later. He mentally thanked Ned who was the best guy in the chair a teenage vigilante could ask for. He should really text his friend when he got back.

For now, he’ll head to the library and see if he could use their computers. He might need a card though… Peter quickly pulled up the search engine and found an Internet cafe. Ah, 24 hour internet cafes, the savior of his college days. There first, and then library, Peter decided. He memorized the instructions and pulled his mask off, tucking it away in the hammer space.

He walked out the alley and turned left, only to double take at his reflection in a shop window that was partially boarded up. Holy shit, he’s a baby. He’s like. 10!

Oh my god.

Peter twitched, tearing himself away from the window before the shop owner decided he was less curious and more potential mugger before promptly remembering that he looked less of a threat than ever. Mixed feelings.

Peter hurried his way to the internet cafe, paying the guy at the front a little extra so he’d ignore the obvious minor without a guardian thing Peter hasn’t gotten used to. Ugh. That was going to be annoying. He only paid for two hours and pulled up as many listings for a room as possible. By the end of it, he came out with $1 worth of fliers printed out and having funneled some billionaire’s offshore accounts into a new bank account he’d made by hacking into the bank servers. Does he feel bad about stealing? Yeah. But Peter’s a vigilante. He’s done worse than nabbing a monthly sum of a couple of hundreds from Lex Luthor’s off shore accounts. He’s not gonna get caught, and considering the guy’s rants on meta humans, Peter’s not feeling particularly guilty about it. He’ll do something good later to make up for it. Once he gets his footholds and can prepare his way back, he’ll even return to the rest of the money. Probably.

Peter left the cafe with his sheaf of flyers, stopping by an informational stand with free tourist maps and plucked one quickly from its plastic holder. He’ll pick something up from the food vendors on his way to the apartments. Peter began walking, taking in the sights of the gargoyles and-

“Nope!” He caught the wrist of a pickpocket. It’s a kid and he immediately felt bad.

“Lemme go. I ain’t done nothing to ya, ya Yorker tourist.”

“Okay,” Peter shrugged. “Don’t get caught the next time?”

The kid gaped at him. “Shi’, you must be really good at it. I’ve never been caught before.”

Peter wisely refrained from telling the kid it was due to his spidey-sense. He let go of the kid’s wrist and let a bit more of his accent out. “Why’d you need money anyways?”

“Food, duh.”

“Dude, I’m starving. Tell you what. You show me the best sub shop nearby and I’ll pay for your food. Deal?”

The kid stared at him, wide eyed. “You’re fuckin’ nuts. Why’re you being nice?”

“I’m hungry? Do we have a deal, kid?”

“… Fuck it. Fine. And don’t call me kid, shrimp. You’re like what, eight?”

Oh. Yeah. Peter’s a kid now. He shrugged.

“I’m older than you. I’m twelve.”

Peter blinked, frowning at how thin the kid’s wrists were.

“I’m Peter!”

“… Frank.”

He let Frank lead the way. Stranger danger doesn’t apply to him, he’s a grown ass man. In the body of a ten year old him, but still. A couple of minutes, four sandwiches and a load of chips later, Frank was watching wide eyed as he demolished three four dollar subs.

“Holy shit. Where are you packing that away? You’re a stick!”

Peter took a big bite of the sandwich as an answer. Frank looked down at his meal.

“Uh. Hey.”

Peter made a muffled noise of question, mouth stuffed full of steak and cheese.

“Sorry about. Uh. Trynna nick from ya.”

Peter chewed faster.

Frank continued, looking like he hated himself. “I wouldn’t… normally steal from shrimps like you but I was desperate and… really hungry, so. My bad.”

Peter finished chewing. “All good, dude. Eat your sandwich.”

Peter had the sudden urge to adopt Frank. Unlike Wayne, he’s not a billionaire, so he smacked that urge down. He could use a friend though. Now… how to be friends with a literal child!

“If you feel that bad about it, you could… be my friend?”

Peter took in the wide eyed gaze from the twelve year old in front of him. Abort! Abort! That was too direct!

“You’re fucking weird. But… okay.”

“That was easy.”

Frank scowled, kicking Peter’s shin.

“Ow!”

“Whatever, shrimp.”

Peter scowled. On his baby face, it came out as a pout.

Do not start beef with a twelve year old, Peter. You’re a grown ass adult.

“Hey, you know I’m new here, right?”

“Duh.” Frank took a bite of his food.

“Can you tell me which one of these are legit?” Peter handed Frank the flyers. He took them, an odd look passing his face.

“You’re looking for a place?”

“Yeah? Why?”

Frank stared at him. Looked back down. He instantly got rid of four listings out of the ten. “These are too close to the Alley. They’re probably traffickers.”

Peter hummed in agreement. Frank paused.

“You’re just gonna trust me on that?”

“Yeah? I can tell when people are lying.” Well, his spidey sense could, when he cared enough about the subject.

“What the fuck.” Frank shoved the rest the papers at him and guiltily munched on his food. “Are Yorkers all just like you?”

“Dunno? Probably not.”

“… Whatever. The rest of the places should work. They probably won’t ask questions.” Frank flapped a hand at Peter’s new situation. Yeah, the shortness was getting to him too.

Peter nodded. Obviously, they were the more expensive places, but considering the new found resources he’d… acquired during his time at the cafe, it doesn’t really matter.

“Cool! Wanna go see it with me?”

Frank immediately took on a suspicious glare. “Why?”

“I dunno? You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just thought since you know your way around…”

“Ugh. Fine. But if there’s anything shady, I’m fucking dipping out.”

“Okay!” Peter grinned for the first time the couple of hours he’d been trapped in this new world.

——

They’d found an apartment with a landlord that got a weird, sad face when she was talking to them about the apartment. After like, an hour of walking around and Peter’s spidey sense screaming at him not to even go near the places Frank had left in the pile of maybe’s.

“We walked all the way here. Ya not even gonna go in?”

“The vibes are off. It’s a no.”

And because Peter’s a genius idiot with no self preservation, he’d marked the places to investigate later.

Frank had blinked at him, mildly offended and nonplussed. After a while of spluttering, he just gave up. Eventually, they got here.

“I don’t normally rent to kids,” the landlord lady said. Peter immediately liked her. “But I’ll make an exception if you’ve got the cash.”

“I’d like to see the unit first, please” Peter said. He’s not stupid, and Gotham’s renting scene is both easier and harder than New York.

They toured it. Peter? He’d seen worse. He’d lived worse. Also, it had two bedroom and was $620. Yeah, Peter was really considering just staying here full time and commuting to his New York when he wanted to be a vigilante.

“I’ll take it, ma’am.” The landlord and Frank both snorted, sharing a Gothamite look.

“It’s Georgie, to you, brat. You just need the first month’s rent, since I’ll wave the deposit for you shrimps. Utilities included. Your friend stayin’?”

“No-” Frank had started.

“Yep!” Peter beamed, interrupting his new friend.

“What?” Frank turned, gaping again at this weird little kid who had enough money to rent a place and then invited a whole ass street kid he just met to live with him. “Are you stupid?! What if I rob you? Huh? I don’t need charity!”

Peter slowly looked around the empty unit.

“Uh.”

“No, that’s not the point!” Frank pointed a finger at Peter. “That’s how you get yourself killed!”

“But that’s why you should stay! I don’t know my way around Gotham so…”

Peter looked up at Frank, using his shortness for maximum devastation. “Please?”

Georgie leaned back on the heels of her feet, silently laughing. It’s not every day she sees a Gothamite street kid get out stubborned by an outsider, but she knows better than anyone that Gotham is weak to genuine kindness. And this Peter kid, the one that reminds her so much of her own? He’s practically filled with it.

“Yeah, kid,” she said to Frank, snickering. “Look at him. He’s gonna get mugged two steps into the Alley. Or anywhere.”

Frank flailed, but eventually, Peter handed over the money to an amused Georgie who gave them two keys in return and a move in gift of a pot pie.

“I gotta. Uh. Go get my stuff.” Frank had mumbled, dazed at whatever the hell just happened.

“Okay! I’ll see if I can go get furniture!”

“And lift them with your shrimpy arm? You wish.”

“I can use a cart.”

And really, he could, because Gotham had a lot of abandoned carts laying around. Like a concerning amount.

“Can you even reach the handle?”

“I’m not that short!”

Frank snorted, Georgie’s own chuckles following a beat after. Peter scowled at them.

“Be right back,” Frank promised, holding the key like it was treasure. He had been homeless for two and a half years now, so in his eyes, that key was as good as gold. He had somewhere warm to stay. Trying to pickpocket Peter was the best mistake he’s ever made in his short life. But he didn’t want to take advantage of that, well, no, he did want to, but he doesn’t want to take the genuine kindness for granted so he’ll see if there’s any street furniture he could haul back on his way.

“Okay!”

Georgie watched him go and turned to Peter.

“If you need stuff, there’s a thrift store and a grocery store that way.” She gave him the directions.

——

As soon as Frank and Georgie left, Peter immediately left his new place (and holy shit, he really didn’t expect things to be this easy. In New York, he had to spend at least a week checking out places because he had to figure out whether the problem that cause subtle twinges with his spider sense was worth living with. Here? It’s too obvious.) to buy supplies. He had $400. Until his new card came in, at least. He’d put his new address into that bank account addressed to a “Anthony Benjamin” before ordering a “replacement card.”

Peter ran to the thrift store, hurrying before the last traces of the sun dipped below the smog of Gotham. A frankly absurd amount of blankets, towels, pillows, clothes, packaged boxers, socks and shoes around his size went into the cart. To his chagrin, Peter couldn’t actually see much over the cart. Why the hell was he such a short ten year old? He blasted through the store, also guesstimating Frank’s sizes. He tossed in curtains, a used set of glow in the dark stars, and a lamp.

He also grabbed mismatched mugs, bowls, a bundle of cutlery, and a dented microwave he casually pretended to struggle getting onto the bottom part of the cart. It’s like lifting grapes for him, but he looks like a ten year old so…

He, guiltily, bought a mildly fancy camera in a set, with two separate lenses, even if one was cracked.

Not bad, for $150 total. Peter is going to definitely seriously consider commuting to New York. They didn’t even care when he walked out with the cart! Well, that might be because of the cashier who gave him a pitying glance.

He stopped by a general store on the way back, parking his cart in a rapidly shadowy alleyway. He swung by the new section of the store that reminded him of a Dollar Tree and got cleaning supplies, toiletries, and two pans and a pot. He grabbed some canned food and a couple of frozen meals in the back. Seasonings, ramen, general pantry staples went in. A role of paper towel. Nice. Venom would have loved this store. With half of his budget blown for essentials, Peter quickly cut his spending off and

He quickly gathered his stuff and went back to the apartment, using his strength a bit to lift the full cart up the stairs at the front doors and into the elevator. It creaked like the first time they used it to go see the apartment, but it worked. Peter set everything up in the living room, pillow and blanket wise, and put everything in its proper place. The lamp was put up, giving more light than the old bulb in the ceiling light.

All Peter wanted to do was pass out, but since his dumbass took in a child, he couldn’t sleep until this place was relatively fit for a kid to live in. He also wanted to wait for

So, that’s what he did. Taking a sponge and the cleaning supplies he’d picked up earlier, Peter tackled the living room, scrubbing away at old stains and spraying mildew. He marked trouble spots- like that splinter worthy piece of floor next to the doorway leading to the hall between the bedrooms. Then the kitchen. By the time Frank cautiously peeked his head in from the front door, Peter had already finished scrubbing the over.

“Hey.”

Peter turned, grime on his face but grinning. “Hey!” I bought some stuff!”

Frank snorted at his face before glancing around the living room, eyeing the cart parked neatly on the side.

“So you did. Didn’t get mugged, did ya?”

“Rude. No, of course not.”

Frank gave him a… frankly… unimpressed look and dumped his bag next to the pile of blankets and pillows Peter had piled onto the floor. Sue hi’, they didn’t have beds yet.

“Got somethin’ for ya,” Frank said neutrally before dragging in…

“A coffee table!” Peter bounced towards Frank, hugging him before lugging in the heavy wooden table in. “You’re the best! Where’d you find it?!”

The tension, anxiety about Peter’s reaction, in Frank’s shoulders relaxed and the kid grinned. “Alley. Some asshole just left it there for anyone to hit with their car so I took it.”

“Nice! We can eat on this!”

——

When they were getting ready for bed, Peter insisting on showers for both of them, Frank had reared up at the clothes Peter bought for him. Peter pretended like he didn’t see anything and shove a whole tube of toothpaste and a new toothbrush at him.

“Ew. Do I have to?” Frank asked, wrinkling his nose but taking the items anyways.

“Yeah.” Peter said seriously. Frank gave a moment to wonder why he was taking orders from an eight year old before shrugging. He could brush his teeth in exchange for a roof over his head, food, and clothes. It’s not even a fair trade, for Peter, anyways. Frank was enough of an alley rat to take advantage of that.

——

When Frank passed out, Peter couldn’t sleep. He’s exhausted, but he couldn’t sleep.

So he took his new camera and climbed the fire escape to the roof top.

An hour later, he met his first vigilante.

“Hey, kiddo. I’m gonna need you to back away from the edge.”

“Woah!” Peter startled, jolting slightly off of the ledge he was balanced on. He twisted around to see Red Robin, hand outstretched and panicked look in his eyes.

“Dude. Warn a guy!” Peter said, even though his spider sense warned him of an approaching person that was actively watching him.

Red Robin held his hands up. “My bad. Would you- uh, not be on that ledge?”

“Yeah, sure. My bad, bro.” Peter obligingly stood up and stepped away from the ledge. Red Robin relaxed then did a double take. Peter frowned. Is there something on his face?

“What are you doing up here, kiddo? It’s late.”

Peter decided to scope out the vigilante. “Couldn’t sleep,” he held up his camera. “I’m taking pictures.”

“Oh. That’s cool! Can I see?” Red Robin approached warily, but relaxed when Peter didn’t spook and try to take a shortcut to ground floor.

“Sure! It’s a new, well, not new but new to me, camera so I haven’t had all that time to mess with the specs but the pictures turned out pretty good-”

“Oh, woah. This one’s great. That composition? Amazing. You caught the light perfectly,” Red Robin complimented. Peter brightened, knowing a photography fan when he hears one.

“Photography buddy!” He cheered.

They talked for an hour after that, but Red Robin quickly sent him to bed once he remembered the time.

“Ah, shi- crap. It’s like 2AM. You’ve gotta go to bed.”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry if I interrupted your patrol, Mr. Red Robin!”

“No problem, kid.” Peter slipped back down the fire escape, not caring if the vigilante saw where he lived.

——

Up on the rooftop, Red Robin pressed a hand to his comm.

“Red Robin to Nightwing.”

“What’s up, Red?”

“Do you have a kid you don’t know about?” Tim said, bluntly.

“… What?”

“Oracle, can you share my cowl footage?”

“Copy. Oh, that kid…”

“Looks exactly like Wing?” Tim said, peering down at the empty fire escape. “Yeah. Talked like him too.”

“Oh my god, he’s adorable.” Oracle said. Tim agreed. That curly hair? Baby face? Adorable. A bean. “Did you get DNA?”

“Ah, shit, I knew I forgot something.”

“Do not break into his place and nab a hair,” Nightwing reprimanded, but his voice sounded distracted.

“Holy shit, you guys nerded out about camera placement and lighting for an hour?” Hood piped up.

“Get some rest, Red Robin. You’ve been working too hard,” Batman grunted through the comms. Awkward… but he’s been getting better at communicating his worry for his kids.

“Sure thing, B. Heading back to the main cave. Red Robin out.

——

Peter: lay low and get home

Also Peter: talks to a vigilante

None of them think Peter’s Nightwing’s yet. Peter will know before them… eventually. Once this world’s version of him gives up his memories to be absorbed by AU Peter.

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murdrdocs · 10 months

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ethan landry is so fall boyfriend :(

holding hands when walking to and from class, usually a meetup then a split with the difference in majors. he wears one of his jackets that you love to steal, not nearly thick enough for new york weather but for now it works. you make a comment about him needing to get a puffer jacket soon and he sighs, thinking about the expense, until he looks over at you, smiles, and suggests making it a gift exchange sort of thing. because even though you'll still end up spending the money, at least it goes to each other.

spending so much time in the library studying together. or your favorite little study spots that you find around campus or the city when the stuffiness of the library becomes too overwhelming. trying new coffee orders each time, because ethan needs to get away from the energy drinks and he found himself sipping your sweet drinks more often than not so you just convince him to start trying some with you. he always picks them up, while you pick up the snacks, and you two meet and exchange. playlists are exchanged, too, usually a bit of a mystery element to it so you both can look up when a delightfully unexpected song starts playing, a grin on your lips to replace the frown previously directed to the difficult material.

movie nights are a given. cuddled up in one of your dorm rooms, tucked in the corner of the twin XL bed that has more blankets and pillows on it than it usually does. sharing popcorn that almost burned, and candy bars from the vending machine downstairs while you argue over what movie to watch (either a 'halloween' rewatch, or watching a newer indie film). and after the horror elements of the autumnal based films have mushed your brains up, you watch a disney channel original, usually 'halloweentown', until you fall asleep. these days are especially better when it's raining, and it usually becomes a group element sort of thing then, overnights spent at the carpenter-bailey residence while sharing a couple of pizzas and a few beers courtesy of sam.

outfits that accidentally match, mostly because you have a habit of stealing ethan's clothes and he has a habit of stealing your style. earth tones, sneakers, scarfs when it gets colder, new jackets, and a cup of hot chocolate or an insanely sweet coffee. kisses taste like the sweets of the season, makeouts taste like the treats, hugs are cold then warm, and silences are appreciated more than ever as a time to let your brains rest from all of the cramming.

#ethansworld!#ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x you #ethan landry fluff #ethan landry #scream 6 #celeste writes scream #scream 6 x reader #scream 6 fluff

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hexagon-club · 3 months

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I'm going to try and put together a list of youtube channels of detransitioners. I'm going to try to include an archive of all these channels. Because I've seen quite a few channels like this disappear. I should add that this is not necessarily an endorsement of all the content on these channels or the political and religious views of these people. I've cast a pretty wide net here so there's a range of different personalities and beliefs. But I have tried to limit it to channels that actually talk about detransition rather than ones that just so happen to belong to people who have detransitioned. This isn't an exhaustive list, but I'm going to try to fit in as many channels as I can think of right now.

Female detransitioners:

Chloe Cole/ChoooCole:

Probably the most prominent detransitioner I can think of right now, or at least the most prominent one to have their own youtube channel.

KC Miller/Kacey Emerick/dyke_in_denial:

You might remember KC as that woman who Hasan Piker made fun of when she made her first video about detransitioning. More recently she was in the New York Times.

Alia:

Elle Palmer:

Jade Martin/jaderants/atreuz:

I think she uploads her newer videos to twitter/x and tiktok and not youtube. Still, here's her channel anyway. Jade almost died as a result of 3 years on hormones. If her twitter is anything to go by she is still dealing with health problems, even though she has been off HRT for a few years.

#detrans #detransition #trans #transgender

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reasonsforhope · 6 months

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I keep seeing news about charges and what-not being piled onto Trump, and all I can keep saying to myself is "but is he going to experience one (1) single consequence of this?" So... is there any iota of a hope that something could come of this circus that will make the slightest ding in his capacity to run in 2024?

So, the answer to this is a bit complicated - partly because there are a lot of factors and a long time scale, and partly because it depends on how you define "consequences"

If you mean "any serious consequences at all," good news, that has already happened!

If you need to catch up on the whole "cases against Trump" situation, read this: The Cases Against Trump: A Guide. Via The Atlantic, November 1, 2023

1. The New York Fraud Case

A judge has ordered that the Trump Organization must be dissolved in a ruling that is being widely described as a "corporate death penalty." This is an incredibly rare ruling, and a huge deal.

The details will take a while to hash out - currently, Trump's kids are in the middle of testifying in a trial for this fraud case, but it's not to determine whether he's guilty - only the extent of the damages and the outline of how the org will be dissolved. It's extraordinarily unlikely Trump will be able to get out of this one. And high up on the list of things he's probably going to lose? Trump Tower itself.

Now, admittedly, this actually isn't because of, you know, the whole attempted coup thing. It's because the Trump Organization's finances were built on decades of absolutely massive fraud - including the very wealth that Trump lied about in order to explain why people should vote for him.

Oh, and let's not forget that in this case, Donald Trump spent weeks absolutely shit talking the judge to try to "poison the jury pool" (make sure that people on the jury would go in with a negative opinion of the judge already). ONLY TO FIND OUT THAT THERE IS NO JURY IN THIS CASE because his attorneys forgot to request one, so the sole arbiter of his fate is the judge he just spent weeks absolutely slandering in an attempt to win over the jury! And all else aside, judges very infamously do not like being insulted

Oh yeah, and the prosecutors are seeking a permanent ban on Trump doing business in the state of New York

Fraud trial explainer (New York Times, no paywall) Sources: x, x, x, x, x, x, x, x

2. 14th Amendment Lawsuit

Okay so I did all the other sections first, then came back and wrote this one. It's shorter because of that, and because this issue is a lot newer and doesn't have nearly as much legal stuff or investigations going on yet.

What's happening here is that several states have people who are filing petitions and lawsuits to try to get Trump taken off the ballot for the 2024 election, under the 14th Amendment, which was passed in the aftermath of the Civil War and bars anyone who has committed insurrection from holding office.

So far (as of the first week of November, there are cases to kick Trump off the ballot in about 20 states. Oral arguments have started in Colorado and Minnesota.

Basically, my take on the short version is that this could happen, but we'll have to wait at least a few more months to see how likely it is.

However, even if it does go through, Trump would only be kicked off the ballot on a state by state basis. So, if Colorado kicks him off the ballot, he'll still be on the ballot in the other 49 states, and the process would have to be repeated in each one. Still, even if it was just one state, that could be a big deal, voting-wise - and if he gets kicked off the ballot in more than a couple states, he might not end up being the Republican nominee anymore, given the size of that disadvantage.

Correction, 6 min after posting: It's expected that if Trump DOES get kicked off the ballot in any state, the Supreme Court will hear the case and weigh in. The decision would be binding for all states. Supreme Court probably unlikely to ban Trump from the ballot since they cheated their way into a conservative supermajority and 3 of them are Trump appointees

Explainer: Trial to kick Trump off the ballot in Colorado Explainer: Strengths and weaknesses of cases to kick Trump off the ballot Sources: x, x, x, x, x, x, x

3. The Classified Documents Case

So, the fraud case above is actually a civil case (that is, not a criminal case). The classified documents case, however, is a criminal case, and it's arguably the one most likely to lead to legal and political consequences for Trump, in large part because everything's very clear cut.

Like, Trump has literally admitted he retained classified documents on purpose - which is super against the law! Trump is just arguing a variety of nonexistent technicalities for why that law doesn't apply to him. But he did it! We know he did! We have photos of classified documents stored in the Mar-a-Lago bathroom! We have testimony from the employees he ordered to secretly move the boxes before the FBI probe. We have records proving he asked Mar-a-Lago's IT guy about erasing the surveillance footage of the move! We even have proof that a) he stole nuclear secrets, and b) a recording of him waving around the "plans of attack," bragging about them to other people!

All super damning.

(Post continues below, at length; sources at the end of each section.)

And another thing that's extremely key: Trump is charged in this case with violating the Espionage Act. And the Espionage Act explicitly does not give a single fuck about why you retained documents, or whether there's any proof you intended to show anyone. Any and all hoarding of national defense documents is illegal under the Espionage Act - EVEN if they're not classified, which is great since "I declassified them with my brain" (not how it works) is Trump's main defense here.

So, this case is basically the surest criminal conviction - and the most likely to have electoral consequences. Partly because Republicans, as few issues as they care about, generally are security hawks - "Trump stole nuclear secrets and showed them to people" is giving Repubs pause in a way that the insurrection just isn't, probably esp in the military and ex-military demographic.

Trump could also serve jail time if convicted in this case (which again he probably will be).

However, violating the Espionage Act doesn't ban you from running for or holding public office, which imho seems like a pretty major oversight.

Classified documents case explainer Sources: x, x, x, x, x, x, x, x, x, x

4. The Insurrection

So, this is where things get really complicated, because the case is complicated and so many things about it are so unprecedented.

There are two different cases here: a criminal case in the state of Georgia and a federal criminal case (that's the one run by Special Counsel Jack Smith, who is also running the classified documents case).

I definitely can't summarize all of this huge situation here, but here's some key points re: whether there will be legal consequences:

I actually have a pretty high level of trust in Jack Smith, in large part due to his record: he's serving as special prosecutor while on sabbatical from his normal job of prosecuting war crimes at the Hague. And he's specifically been prosecuting war crimes from the wars and genocides in former Yugoslavia in the 80s and 90s. That specifically gives me a lot of confidence because - as someone whose family is from the region - I think it's a really strong demonstration of his abilities. It means he has a lot of experience prosecuting high-level government and army officials, in a complicated, multi-year, multi-war conflict, where there were way more sides and factions than we have, along with way less documentary evidence (bc 90s), and a lot of history of political corruption and coverups. I find that really reassuring, especially the "experience prosecuting high-level government and army officials" thing in a situation with, shall we say, extremely contested and variable national leadership, during the course of multiple civil wars

"Schwendiman compared it to prosecuting Kosovo’s equivalent of Benjamin Franklin and Alexander Hamilton. “If you indict these people, you’re saying, ‘The founding fathers of Kosovo have committed atrocities, and I’m ready to prove it, in an independent court, with independent judges and rules that apply to everyone.’” And that was Kosovo's founding president. So yeah, I think Jack Smith can handle Trump. Source

Okay now to the points you might have actually heard of lol

The Georgia case is a state level case, which means that no matter what, Trump can't pardon himself in that case

The Georgia case is also charging Trump under the RICO act - aka the rackeeting act, usually used to prosecute organized crime. And convictions under the Georgia RICO Act come with MANDATORY jail time

I think the evidence here is pretty compelling, see: the congressional Jan 6 hearings

There is a pretty high chance that, in a massively unusual step, filming will be allowed inside the trial/hearings. This is HUGE, especially because Trump supporters would actually be watching it too (unlike, generally, the congressional hearings), and that evidence all laid out looks really goddamn bad

Also, if yesterday's fraud trial testimony is any indication, Trump is likely to end up yelling and screaming at the judge, etc. in the trial, which is going to look wildly unprofessional

The federal trial will be taking place in Washington DC, where it should be very doable to get a jury that isn't stuffed with Trump cronies (unlike, say, if the case was brought in Florida)

Trump has attempted witness tampering on a lot of occasions, and tried to poison the jury pool, and he got caught so now he's under a gag order that restricts what he can say re: both of those.

Important note: Jack Smith has brought the narrower of two possible cases against Trump. He's filed against Trump with several conspiracy charges, including "conspiracy against rights," which was historically created to prosecute the KKK for racial terrorism

However, Jack Smith did not actually charge Trump with inciting an insurrection. There are a lot of possible reasons for this, but it mostly boils down to the fact that "inciting an insurrection" is significantly less objectively provable, in this case, esp since "insurrection" isn't actually defined in the relevant law

So, Jack Smith has traded a broader case (the one including insurrection charges) for a case that is much simpler and quicker to argue, and that he's sure he can prove

Jack Smith absolutely knows that he has an effective deadline of November 2024 (aka the next election, because a Republican president would shut down the investigation immediately), and he's planning accordingly

Look. Federal prosecutors - and the prosecutors in Georgia and the other NY case, for bribery of porn star Stormy Daniels - would not be bringing these charges if they did not feel sure they would win. Democracy aside, if any of them lose their cases? That is almost guaranteed to end their careers. So they have a very vested self-interest in only taking on what they are absolutely sure they can prove

The judge in the federal Jan 6 trial is the judge who has given the harshest sentences against any of the Jan 6 rioters, and she is the only judge to have sentenced rioters to more time than the prosecutors asked for

Jan 6 charges against Trump, explainer Sources: x, x, x, x, x, x, x, x

A Very Hot Take: It might not be a bad thing that Trump is still allowed to run

So, this is my personal take on the situation - I acknowledge that it's a very hot take on the Left, and that I might well be wrong about this. I might be totally misreading the field here. But I genuinely do think that Trump being the Republican candidate for president could be a good thing, and in fact I'll genuinely worry significantly more if Trump isn't the Republican nominee for president.

The why all basically comes down to this: I think Trump will be easier to defeat in the 2024 general election.

Again, look, I may totally be misreading this, and that would be really bad, but here are my thoughts:

Trump is super popular with the far right base - but that same strength makes him a huge liability in the general election. You CAN'T WIN a presidential election without the support of independents and moderates (including "moderates"). This is a really common problem for Republican candidates, actually: the more they move to the right to win the core Republican base, the more they risk hurting their chances in the general election

Independents and moderate Republicans - again, who Trump needs to win with to get the presidency - are significantly more likely to care about, you know, all the stealing classified documents and committing treason things

I can't think of anything that will guarantee people on the left get their asses to the polls better than "Vote or Trump is president again." A lot of the time, with someone who hasn't been president before, voters can lie to themselves and go "Oh it won't be that bad once he's in office," esp among moderates. But now we have proof that isn't the case!

Look, I don't know if Trump is getting dementia or what, but his faculties really do appear to be declining. They'll likely be significantly worse in another year - his speeches are already way worse than there were in 2016. He just can't track what he's saying well enough anymore. This makes it harder for him to make his case to the electorate

He's also the only actual Repub candidate that's about the same age as Biden - which will do a lot to stop the Right from using Biden's age as an effective weapon to get a Repub in office

Honestly, my biggest worry is that DeSantis will be the Republican nominee. I am way more scared of Biden vs. DeSantis than Biden vs. Trump.

Reasons I would absolutely rather Biden face Trump than DeSantis include: DeSantis is way younger and he has way less baggage. Because he hasn't been president yet, voters can do that self-delusion thing that he won't be that bad - that he'll be better than Trump - and that unlike Trump's, his plans will work. People on the left and in the center often don't know who he is yet, and there's not such a huge current of electoral energy to get them to the polls. And most of all - unlike Trump, DeSantis is actually smart. And as part of that, he is capable of a deep and absolutely premeditated cruelty that Trump just doesn't have the attention span or the patience for. Biggest example: actually literally kidnapping undocumented immigrants and sending them to Martha's Vineyard, and all the awfulness that went along with that, including the part where he started a goddamned trend.

Nikki Haley I'm less worried about because her core support base - conservatives - is also the country's core support base for misogyny. I hate to be glad about misogyny, but it genuinely would make it harder for her to turn out ultraconservative votes, especially evangelicals.

Sources: x, x, x, x, x, x, x, x, x, x, x, x

So, yeah, all told I don't actually have "Trump still gets to run for president" super high on the list of things I'm worried/mad about.

Also worth saying that we don't want just being indicted (aka charged with a crime) to disqualify people from running for office, because then all Republicans (or anyone) would have to do to disqualify an opposing candidate is find literally any excuse to charge them with something

But back to your original question! I genuinely DO think he'll face legal consequences, and I genuinely DO think he'll probably face jail time. Which obviously I am rooting for very hard

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hometoursandotherstuff · 2 years

Photo

Welcome to the stunningly beautiful, but abandoned, New York City Hall station.

Abandoned for more than 70 yrs., it had chandeliers and beautiful leaded glass skylights.

But, by 1945, the newer, longer subway cars could no longer fit on the station’s curved tracks, so it was closed.

The City Hall station was designed by the architects Heins & LaFarge, notable for their work at the Cathedral of St. John the Divine.

Today, the ticket booths and wooden benches are gone, and many of the skylights are broken or still retain the tar that was used to black them out during WWII.

In addition to the Transit Museum’s tours, (you have to be a member and tickets sell out quickly), you can catch a glimpse of the subway station if you stay on the downtown 6 train after it leaves the Brooklyn Bridge station, as it will loop through the City Hall station to head back uptown.

They were going to widen it, but ridership fell off (well, of course it did, it was closed. Duh!)

The entrances underwent a $17K cleanup.

And are still there.

https://www.6sqft.com/nyc-city-hall-subway-station-tour-history/

#abandoned city hall station nyc #abandoned nyc #abandoned places #beautiful city hall subway station

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fruity-mega-coconut69 · 11 months

Text

A Car?!

[Pairings]: Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader.

[Summary]: It's Tara's 20th birthday and you might have gone a little over-board with her gift.

[Warnings]: Fluff? , shitty ending, My writing

A/N: Sorry, it's short.

------------------------------------------------------------------

“I can’t believe I’m going to miss it!”

You mutter to yourself as you look out the window of your father’s private jet. It’s your girlfriend's, Tara’s, birthday today and you haven’t bought anything for her, and as a matter of fact, it’s possible you are not going to arrive home before later tonight.

But, luckily, you were wrong and you arrived back in New York at 4pm. You were so happy, you practically ran out of the jet when it landed and immediately went to search for something to buy for Tara.

And now, you’re walking the busy streets of New York, looking for the perfect gift. You feel exhausted and tired as you haven’t slept in more than 24 hours, but your feet kept moving until you finally found just the gift for Tara. Your face lights up as you stop in your tracks in front of a car shop and you grin, doing a small dance before going in and looking around.

About half an hour later, your eyes widen and get stuck on a specific car that’s just Tara . You look at the label and see its price, ‘ $63.300’. You smile and turn to the worker that has been showing you around. He smirks and comes closer.

“Ah, a BMW Z4. It’s one of our newer cars. You said it was for a special someone, hm?” You nod and she looks at you. “Well, then, it’s perfect.” You nod and reach into your bag for your wallet, pulling out the money needed while the worker stares at you with a wind mouth and eyes. You smile and hand it to him. He stands there for a minute before mumbling something about bringing some papers.

After signing everything needed, you walk out of the shop happily. Then wait until they bring the car out. After they did, you thank them and immediately speed towards Tara’s apartment building. When you arrive, you get out of the car, now feeling slightly nervous.

What if she doesn’t like it?

Is she going to be mad at me for buying something for her again?

You shake your head and go inside, running up the stairs and knocking on her door when you reach it. Only, it’s not Tara’s cute face that welcomes you when the door opens and instead there is a woman with a big scowl on her face, clearly annoyed. You look down and start to fidget.

“Uh, h-hi. I-Is Tara…here?” You stutter out as you feel small under Sam’s gaze. Although you and Tara have been together for several months, you never had the time to meet her friends and sister who she always told you so much about. All this due to your parents bringing you to every business trip they go to, which is a lot.

You look up again and see that the older Carpenter is about to say something when Tara’s sweet voice can be heard. “Y/N?!” Then loud footsteps and soon Sam is pushed aside and Tara takes her place, immediately smiling at you and not wasting any time before she hugs you tightly. You smile and inhale her scent that you had missed. Tara pulls back only to lean up and give you a sweet kiss that doesn’t go unnoticed by Sam as she gasps.

She doesn’t understand, Tara has been sad all day and Sam and the others have been desperately trying to cheer her up as it is her birthday and she should be happy. And all it takes for that to happen is for some complete stranger to show up at their door?

Tara has a love-struck smile on her face as she pulls back from the kiss and grabs your hand, dragging you inside. There, you see two other people, who you are guessing, are Mindy and Chad. You wave at them awkwardly and sit down on the couch. Sam grumples and closes the door. Tara sits beside you, close. You decide to look around the apartment and smile as you take in the coziness of the home and a warm feeling erupts in your heart when you feel Tara lean into you.

Then, your eyes land on the kitchen table and you notice a bunch of crumpled wrapping paper and some items on the table, like a phone case, a sweater and some chocolate. You gasp and grin.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” All of them look confused as you hadn’t introduced yourself. You grin and pick up your bag, searching for the key to Tara's car. When you find it, you let out a sigh and your hand goes behind your back when you turn back to Tara. She is smiling, but is visibly confused. You blush and show your hands, the keys dangling from them.

“Happy Birthday!” You smile.

Tara’s eyes widen and she gasps, hand flying to her mouth. “You bought me a car?! But, honey! You didn’t have to! Why-?”

She was cut off by Sam as she steps closer to you, eyeing you. “So what? You just come here, not even introduce yourself, kiss my sister and buy her a car? Who the hell are you?”

You look down. “UH, he-her girlfriend, ma’am.” Then you glance at Tara. “And I'm sorry if you don’t like it. I-I can take it back?”

Sam stands still, shocked while Tara smiles wildly and shakes her head. “No, it..it’s perfect! Thank you so much! “She giggles and hugs you, planting a small kiss on your lips. You bite your lip and nod. “But also, what have I told you about buying me expensive stuff for no reason?”

“But! It is for your birthday! “ She laughs and rolls her eyes.

“Oh, you goofball.” Then grabs the back of your neck and kisses you deeply. You sigh into the kiss and wrap your arms around her shoulders. You break apart and she looks down at the keys.

Suddenly, Chad shouts. “Oh! Let’s see the car! I wanna see the car! “He smiles excitedly.

All of you laugh, but Sam keeps staring at you suspiciously as all five of you leave the apartment building and in front of it, is parked the BMW Z4. Tara’s -and everyone else’s- mouth is agape as she stares at the car.

You walk up to it and lean against it, trying to look cool, but failing as you trip and almost fall over. You clear your throat and straighten up as the others chuckle. “So? Wanna take this baby for a ride?” You cringe almost immediately. “Ugh, never saying that again.”

Tara smiles and walks up to the car. “Sure thing, Darling. Let's ride.” And she gets into the driver's seat. You laugh and get in too. Tara puts the key in and turns it, the engine roaring. She leans forward to look at the others. “See you soon, my friends!” She waves at them and pushes her foot on the gas.

A couple of minutes later, the roof is down and the wind is blowing through you guys’s hair as the two of you laugh and talk. There is a beat of silence between you two, only the sound of the engine and the whooshing of the wind can be heard-as well as the other cars around you-. Then, Tara turns to you.

“I love you”

You blush and look at her. “ I…love you, too.”

She giggles and puts a comforting hand on your knee. “So, should we heat things up?” She asks and before you could answer, she steps on the gas and you are speeding through New York. Your heart is racing as you laugh and admire the view of the city in the dark of the night, and of course, Tara’s beauty.

#jenna ortega x fem!reader #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega #tara carpenter x you #scream fanfic #jenna ortega x you #tara carpenter #scream vi #jenna ortega x reader #scream franchise

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florencemtrash · 8 months

Text

Hummingbird: Chapter Five

Miguel O'Hara x Reader

What if the Earth-1610 (Miles’s universe) version of Miguel’s wife was actually Miles’s AP Art teacher?

Masterlist

Warnings: Violence and injuries

You blinked back into your apartment at the end of your nightly patrol, swearing out loud as you began the arduous process of peeling your suit off your sweaty body. Bruises in all stages of healing littered your body like a Pollock painting - purple, blue, yellow, and pink marks spreading up and down your skin like they were living creatures.

You sighed in front of the bathroom mirror, waiting for the shower water to heat up enough to loosen your tight muscles, and twisted your body, looking and pulling at the marred skin.

Miguel wouldn’t be too happy about this… not that he would ever have a reason to look at you naked. The thought alone made you blush furiously.

Miles had been away touring colleges across the Northeast and left you with the task of managing his Spider-duties. It hadn’t been so terrible the first two nights - the minor criminals of New York City were hardly prepared to handle anyone with your powers (like the armed robber who was shocked beyond measure to find his gun had disappeared from his hand). The following nights not so much. Word had gone around that Spider-Man was MIA and criminals minor and major jumped at the chance to unleash their plans. Coffee and spite fueled you through the following week, but there was only so much coffee you could consume in a day after averaging 2 hours of sleep a night.

You would have asked Miguel and the others for help, but there was a strict no interference policy when it came to non-anomalies. Sure, Miguel would have bent the rules for you, but it wasn’t anything you felt comfortable with. Everyone knew he treated you with a special care that sometimes warmed your heart and sometimes set you on edge - always visiting you in the med bay for the most minor of injuries, finding some excuse to track you down in Spidey HQ when you visited, and even going so far as to ask the cooks to add a special edition item onto the regular menu after you’d gushed about it to him at lunch (Peter was the one to tell you).

It also didn’t escape your notice that he kept you from the most dangerous missions, or waited until the last second to call you in for help.

Terco idiota.

You groaned when you stepped into the steaming shower, grateful for the hot water that ran rivers down your back and swept away the exhaustion the night had brought. When you were finally clean and comfortable in your pajamas you sank onto the floor in your living room, pulling the battered and familiar sketchbook forward on the coffee table. One of the many benefits to being an honorary Spider-Person was that the physical exhaustion of superhero duties helped quiet your mind enough to consistently finish your art projects. And every alternate dimension you visited opened up a whole new world of creative possibilities - quite literally. Still… you’d caught yourself drawing the same thing (or rather person) over and over again recently.

You worked for a couple of hours, one ear honed in on the stolen police radio propped up on your tv stand alongside your suit. Mercifully, even criminals needed sleep and you drew uninterrupted until the first rays of dawn started to spill over New York, skyscrapers casting long spindly shadows over the grid.

When morning came you finally dragged yourself into bed for a few hours of blissful sleep leaving behind the soft images of Miguel littered on the coffee table. One day he’d just entered your life and never left, slowly invading every corner of your mind until a week without him felt like a shoe that didn’t fit.

Miguel’s eyes flickered over to you when you blinked into existence beside him, empanada in one hand and a water bottle in the other. His heartbeat picked up, then slowed down, relaxing into the newer, steadier pace of life that you brought him.

“¡Buenos díaaaaaas!” You said in a sleepy singsong voice, dropping the empanada into his lap and jumping on the desk. It wasn’t uncommon for you to stop by his office and make sure he was eating regular meals, although sometimes you would just blink food onto his desk with a post-it note affectionately commanding “Come, pendejo” whenever you visited Spidey-HQ.

“You look tired.” Miguel said, smiling softly as you took your usual spot. He allowed himself to sink into his chair, gazing at you with a love neither of you had the courage to talk about yet.

“So do you.”

“Yes, but I always look tired.” He said with a slight quirk of his lips. You made a little hmmmph sound in agreement, taking a deep sip of your drink.

“Miles is away so I’ve taken on his patrol shifts. I don’t know how you Spider-people manage to do this AND still have full time jobs. I feel like I’m barely keeping up.”

Miguel perked up. You hadn’t told him that you were expanding your superhero duties in Miles’s absence.

“When will he be back?” His eyes focused on you, taking in the faint bags beneath your eyes and the droop of your shoulders with concern. He stood up and moved closer to you, leaning down on arms that bracketed your crossed legs. The smell of coffee and cream was bitter and sweet in the space between you, mixing with Miguel’s own spiced cologne. It warmed you up from the inside out until you wanted nothing more than to fall asleep in his arms.

“Next Sunday.” You groaned and settled for leaning your forehead on his shoulder as you tried to ignore the pounding of your heart, “It’s probably a good thing. If he ends up leaving New York for school, I’ll have to pick up his duties.”

The stolen look of adoration he gave you was replaced by one of confusion and surprise. He’d forgotten that Miles would be graduating next year and going to college.

A New York City without Spider-Man seemed so… wrong. Across countless universes it was always New York City, or some version of it, and Spider-Man. NYC and Spider-Man, Spider-Man and NYC.

You sat patiently, waiting for Miguel to shuffle through his thoughts like he always did, carefully organizing them with the precision and practice of a scientist.

“I could… I could help out if you ever needed it.” He murmured softly, leaning into you and finding comfort in your closeness.

You jerked up so quickly you nearly smacked into his nose, “Did I just hear the Miguel O’Hara suggest breaking protocol?” You teased, poking at his firm chest.

“Well, I-” Miguel lost his words and his cool, color faintly brushing against the tan of his cheeks. He liked having you sit so close to him, no trace of wariness in sight. In the months you’d gotten to know and work with one another you’d learned to grow around each other as tightly as two plants climbing a garden trellis until he didn’t know where he started and you ended.

Memories, painful and sharp, slammed into him - the last kiss he’d given his wife before he ruined everything. The look of terror on Gabriella’s face before she splintered into nothing. And here he was again, jumping at the chance for a future with someone he didn’t deserve. Had he learned nothing after losing everything?

“No,” He shook his head, “You’re right. It was a stupid idea.” He said stoically and stepped away.

“Hey,” You whispered, grabbing his hands when he pulled back. He was entering that dark place again. He hardly talked about his old life except as a warning to Spider-Society members. He believed he was a walking, talking cautionary tale - nothing more than a sense of duty kept him from spiraling down into a sea of terrible memories that would tear him apart.

“It wasn’t stupid. It just means you care.” You said, and felt some relief when Miguel squeezed your hand back, “I can handle it, Miguel. I promise. You won’t be able to get rid of me that easily.”

Miguel’s breath caught in his throat. He knew you meant it jokingly but the words still hit a sore spot.

He didn’t want you to go. If he had control over the powers that governed the multiverse he would ask that you stay with him here forever. He would court you properly instead of dancing around the issue of your growing feelings for one another. He would hug you and kiss you and ask you to spend the nights with him…

Al carajo. He swore and gave into one of his safer desires.

Without warning he closed the distance between you two, slipping into the space between your legs and pulling you against his chest in a bone crushing hug. It was the most contact you’d had with each other since the collider explosion. You melted into his touch, gripping him almost as tightly and getting lost in the smell of coffee and cinnamon.

“I’d like to have you around if that’s alright.” He said softly into the crown of your hair.

You smiled, “Yeah. That’s alright with me.”

“Hey Miss Y/n?” You jolted awake at your desk where you’d drifted off during free period.

Miles smiled apologetically from the door with Gwen at his back who waved and grinned at you.

Oh thank god he was back. You thought to yourself, running a hand through your hair to fix it.

“You know you’re allowed to call me by my first name, right?” You said with a stretch of your back - the sound mimicked a glow stick so much you were surprised you didn’t begin to shine with neon light.

“Yeah, but it’s weird to call an old person by their first name.”

Gwen smirked at Miles as he dropped his bag off at an empty desk.

“Old?!” You said incredulously, “Miles, how old do you think I am?”

He froze like a cat that had just knocked over a glass cup, “Uh…….”

“Oh this should be good,” Gwen quipped, sinking into a chair and propping her feet up on the back of Miles’s chair.

“I-I mean,” Miles stuttered, “Like forty-”

“FORTY?!”

“Thir-Thirty-Thirty-three?” He stumbled over his words, heat rising into his cheeks and coloring them a deep plum.

“I’m twenty-eight!” You said, throwing your hands up dramatically.

“Whoops.” Gwen chuckled. You tipped your head back and laughed, momentarily forgetting the last two weeks of crime-fighting exhaustion.

“How were the college tours? I want to hear everything. Was Princeton all you hoped for?” You leaned forward in your seat, propping your chin up on woven fingers.

“Princeton was fantastic!” Miles said, dragging his chair over to sit closer to your desk, much to Gwen’s chagrin as she lost her footrest, “It looks like something out of a Harry Potter movie. And their engineering building was just-” Miles continued to gush over the schools he’d seen, pulling up photos on his phone of Princeton, Harvard, Columbia, Brown, URI, BU, Northeastern, and a slew of others.

You hung onto his every word, his excitement so infectious that even Gwen abandoned her spot to share Miles’s seat and hear the stories she’d no doubt heard before.

“I loved Berklee,” Gwen jumped in, pointing out a photo of her and Miles smiling in front of their admissions building.

You tilted your head to the side, “You visited colleges in this universe?”

She blushed, “Miles’s parents let me tag along for part of the trip so I had to pretend like I was looking at colleges myself.”

“That makes sense.” You said, noting their closeness and the stolen glances they shared when they thought you weren’t paying attention. “Well, I’m glad the trip was a success!”

“I actually wanted to ask you something, Miss Y/n.” Miles said nervously, straightening up in his chair, “Would you be willing to write me a recommendation letter? I know you’re busy and all but-”

“Say less!” You said with a glowing smile.

“Really?!” He brightened up.

“Of course! Who else would be better suited to the task than me?! I mean, probably someone with more writing experience, but I would be happy to do it.”

“Thank you so much!” He quickly pulled out a resume from his backpack and a list of schools he was planning to apply to, sliding them across the desk with relief now that the anxiety of asking had fallen off his shoulders.

The three of you dove into a conversation about college (you had MUCH wisdom to bestow upon them… art college had taught you many lessons), Spider-duties, and life in general. At the close of the school day, Gwen followed you home, a regular occurrence after you’d offered up your apartment for her to crash in whenever she visited your dimension. She always had a change of clothes folded in your dresser and a toothbrush in your bathroom.

You groaned when you were shaken awake from a deep sleep. Gwen hung upside down from your ceiling already in her spider-suit, pink-tipped hair tickling your nose.

“What-what the- JODER!” you shouted, blinking off the bed and landing on the floor with a groan. There were still moments where you didn’t have complete control over your powers. “¡Carajo!” You hissed in pain and picked yourself off the floor, “Gwen, what the hell?”

“Anomaly in Times Square. Miles is already there and needs backup.”

Shit shit shit. You slapped yourself awake and scrambled to grab your newly mended suit from the closet.

“What are we dealing with?” You shouted as you ran out of your bedroom, slapping on your watch and hearing Miles’s voice ring out from it.

“Dude’s sparkling like a firecracker on Chinese New Years!” His panicked cries rang out, “He’s going after-” Miles’s voice cut out after a strike in the chest fried his watch.

From your apartment window you could see the lights of the New York skyline flicker and crackle like tv static.

“You ready, Gwen?” You asked, holding out a hand.

Gwen ignored the hand and jumped onto your back, wrapping her lean arms around you for dear life, “Oh god I hate this so much.” She said, squeezing her eyes as you teleported them all the way to Times Square.

It was always harder blinking with a passenger in tow. The collider explosion had changed you on a molecular level in such a way that blinking through space felt as natural as passing through a doorway… for others not so much. Traveling across New York City with Gwen felt like dragging a thick strand of yarn through a tiny needle.

Bright lights exploded out of billboard signs, cascading over you in a burning rain of color. You threw an arm around Gwen as she reoriented herself, pushing her down behind a flipped cop car as a bolt of electricity sailed past your ear crackling with heat and energy.

“You don’t remember me do you, Spider-Man? Not important enough for you?” A voice boomed out, tinged with the power you felt during thunderstorms.

“For the third time, I have literally never met you in my entire life!”

“You’ll remember me. They’ll ALL remember me when I’ve taken everything from them.”

“Shit.” You and Gwen said in unison before leaping into the fray.

You made quick work blinking the few people who remained huddled in buildings and under rubble to safety a block away.

“Sorry, sorry. Sorry!” You apologized as people dropped to the floor after being blinked, unused to the feeling of teleportation.

The lights blinded you constantly, blue electricity zipping across the ground like animals on the hunt. You teleported across Times Square, narrowly dodging lightning strikes that raised the hair on your head and arms and teleporting buses, cars, and concrete over the man’s head. He kept up with your attacks, jumping to safety or simply blowing the vehicles up with his power.

Maybe this was what having a Spidey-sense is like? You thought to yourself as you knocked Miles out of the way of a well aimed strike, using the taste of metal in the air as a sign that he was powering up.

A bolt caught you in the chest, sending you crackling through the air. You landed in a smoking heap by the gutter, groaning as your watch smarted and burned on your wrist. You wrenched it off with pain shooting up the side of your ribs.

So much for calling for backup. You swore inwardly as Gwen cried out, tossing her own smoking watch onto the ground as she picked her way out of the rubble of broken billboard screens. There would be no calling Miguel until this was over and done with… if you ever got a chance to call him. The safety net you’d always had fell away from your feet, leaving you buzzing with anxiety.

“Throw the cage!” You screamed at Gwen. She jumped and arched through the air, throwing a device no larger than a coin and watching it stick to the ground beneath the man’s feet.

He thrummed with the energy of New York City’s power grid, drinking it in through his skin like a sponge. The shield sprang to life, closing in on him with precision and accuracy. You let yourself breathe a sigh of relief as he quietly looked at his new cage. The high strung buzz of power in the air dissipated, no longer called to him from behind the holographic barriers.

The man quietly pulled off his hood, revealing blue skin cracked with the movement of electricity shooting through his veins like blood.

“Wait, NO!” Miles shouted, “It’s not going to work!”

“You really think this can hold me?” He grinned, white eyes haunting, “Think again.”

He pressed the palms of his hands against the barrier and you all watched in horror as it blew apart in his hands.

“SHIT!” Miles yelled, throwing his hands up to block the light that exploded outward.

You ducked down behind an overturned bus, feeling the sharp pricks of debris falling down on your back and singeing the fabric.

Times Square was once again alight with electricity and light, and the electric man stood at the center of it all, drawing in power and watching with delight as block after block of neighborhoods went pitch black. Helicopters flew overhead, spotlights zigzagging over the ground. You watched, powerless as he aimed one finger at a helicopter and shot it down to the ground. Miles and Gwen lept into action, working in tandem to weave a net strong enough to catch it as you continued to distract the villain. But you were slowing down, exhaustion creeping into your bones.

Another shot to the shoulder slammed you into a brick wall, body flickering in and out of existence as you struggled to blink yourself away. You fell to the ground in a crumple of limbs.

A boot pressed down between your shoulder blades, heavy and bruising. You screamed when a burning hand grabbed you by the back of your suit and hoisted you into the air. Blue eyes, cold and unfeeling bore into your own.

“You didn’t need to get involved.” He said, his hands beginning to light up dangerously. “I’m sorry this has to happen. But you’re not going to stop me. No one is going to stop me.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that before.” You said through gritted teeth.

Every dimension was different and every dimension left its mark on its inhabitants like a key to a home or a postal code. It was how the Go Home Machine was able to send people back where they belonged.

“You think you could ever do that?... I think you could.” Hobie had said about the Go Home Machine. You’d scoffed and brushed it off at the time but… there was no time like the present.

You squeezed your eyes shut and grabbed a hold of his arm.

You drew on every inch of your power, searching throughout the multiverse for something that felt like home to this person until…

You got a match.

“What-what are you doing? WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” You opened your eyes and gasped. The man’s body was slowly breaking apart like the static on old distorted TVs. He tried to get away from you, struggling against your iron grip as you held on for dear life, pouring your power into the action of forcing an unwilling person across the multiverse.

“Get. Out. Of. My. Dimension.” You growled, finding yourself back on solid ground as his legs went, then his lower torso. His face and arm were the last to go, mouth frozen in a silent scream, leaving you clutching empty air.

Miles and Gwen gawked at you from twenty feet away as the lights of the city slowly shuddered back to life, a stillness and unnatural quiet falling down on the city that never sleeps.

Your knees buckled beneath you and they shouted your name.

The last thing you saw were the blurry outlines of Miles and Gwen running towards you before your head hit the ground and the world went black.

<- Previous chapter Next chapter ->

_________

Author's note: Annnnnnnd here's Chapter Five! Thank you all for reading and sticking with me and my chaotic posting schedule. I hope you enjoy!

Taglist: @geraskier-thots @howabouticallyou @sweetheartlizzie07 @dont-mind-me27 @omg-edzia-stuff @sarcastically-defensive17 @trouble-sistar @saltyluminaryvoid @lunablue001 @sadslasher13 @yas-v @thel0v3hashira143 @trishuh8 @vague-flying-shape @tiana76 @dinuxia-bhm @mxtokko @devilsrose666@natbratty @zettoaizawa-shusband @dorck26 @notasadgirlipromise @niyanispunk @thecraziestcrayon @athenxt @imnotyourbcbe @jannajuju @lunamoonbby @elle-19 @aces148 @sseleniaa @elaineiswithyou-blog @summerli-u @rattlethemskulls @sunseekerlove @bubbabobabubbles @loonalockley @aleombre @littlelilies@07-bilin @nerdalicios @insanely-creative-things @enby-rising @nataliahemsworth @coralineyouareinterribledanger @louderfortheback @damnzelsoul @enheduannasposts @bontensbabygirl @mynameiswilliamblake

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #atsv x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x wife reader #miles morales #gwen stacy #peter b parker #miguel x y/n #miguel x you #miguel o'hara x you #across the spiderverse #into the spider verse

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stevethehairington · 1 year

Text

begin again au where eddie is a singer songwriter who moves to new york with his singer songwriter boyfriend, who recently got "discovered" when his song was put in a movie.

said boyfriend has an affair with someone on his team from the label, and eddie dumps him on the spot and stays with chrissy for the night because he has nowhere else to go.

chrissy drags him to a local dive bar for an open mic night, and she pushes him to get up onstage where he sings one of his newer songs.

it gets a lukewarm reaction from the crowd, barely any reaction actually, but eddie doesn't care. it's whatever.

except, as he's slumping back onto his stool, he's approached by this guy. this beautiful beautiful guy who sort of looks a little worse for wear and absolutely, definitely is drunk because he starts going on and on about how incredible eddies song was and how great his voice is and how he hears things, hears whole arrangements, and that's what he heard with eddies song. he tells eddie he's a music producer, that he wants to sign eddie.

eddie doesn't believe him. tells him he doesn't want to be signed anyways.

this guy — steve, his business card says — accepts the rejection, and leaves. but then when eddie himself finally decides to leave the bar, steve's outside, like he was waiting for him. here he admits that he couldn't actually sign eddie even if he wanted to, and explains how he basically just got fired from his label and that's how he ended up at the bar, drinking himself into a stupor.

they hit up another bar together, and get to chatting some more, about music, about their careers. and at the end of the night, steve proposes signing eddie again, tells him he can make it happen if he really wants it. eddie makes a promise that he'll call steve the next day to let him know what he decides.

the next day rolls around and eddie calls. he tells steve's he's in. so steve picks him up and steve takes him to his label and he has eddie play for his boss — who tells steve he's just not into it. steve pitches they get eddie in the studio, get him some back up instruments to really get the full vision he heard in the bar, find someone who will produce it and then give it a new listen with fresh ears. his boss tells him they don't make demos, so come back with a real one yourself and we'll talk.

steve's disappointed by that, but he's not going to let that discourage him. he and eddie get coffee after and steve's thinking a mile a minute, tells eddie fuck that they don't need a demo, they don't even need a studio. all they need is eddie, his guitar, and the city. they'll record outside, right here in the city — a whole album, every song in a new location.

and eddie — he fucking loves the idea.

they get chrissy to help with the recording, and they comb the city for musicians. they find gareth on the drums, jeff with his bass, archie with his guitar. lucas with his cello, erica with her violin. robin with her trumpet. dustin with his keyboard. one by one they fold them into this project, add them to their band.

they record in alleyways, on rooftops, in parks, in the subway, all over the city. they use the background noise to their advantage. they make fucking magic with it.

along the way, of course, eddie and steve fall in love.

when they finish the album, they meet with steve's old boss again, who loves what they've done. eddie demands he give steve his job back and for a bigger share in the deal. but steve's boss isn't down for that, as great as their album is.

when all is said and done, eddie decides he doesn't care if he's been signed or not. he decides to distribute the album online for $1. steve calls in a favor from an old friend, an old journalist friend who's known for her honest music reviews, who has a pretty big following because of it, and she — nancy — helps promote the album. she gets the word out, and they release the album.

and it does fucking incredible.

and it's all thanks to steve. and the beautiful record they created together. the beautiful journey they went on together.

in the end, eddie doesn't care that this whole thing didn't work out the way he'd hoped it would at the start of this all because, well, he's had the fucking time of his life making this album, and he's made so many friends along the way, and he — he's fallen in love. and it's the best thing thats ever happened to him. steve is the best thing that's ever happened to him.

he couldn't be happier.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #begin again au #i fucking LOVE this movie and ive been thinking about steddifying it for AGES

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kyotosworld · 9 months

Text

undercover, in more ways than one

pairing: steve rogers x reader

summary: you and steve hate each other but are assigned onto an undercover mission that involves a fake marriage.

warnings: none i’m pretty sure

word count: 2.8k

For as long as you could remember, you and Steve have always hated each other.

You joined the avengers a bit later than everyone else, so you were a newer member. Regardless, it didn’t justify Steve’s hatred towards you.

When Tony introduced you to everyone for the first time, you instantly felt comfortable. Everyone was so nice; Natasha welcomed you with a warm smile, Bucky and Clint nodded at you, Bruce awkwardly smiled, Thor hugged you, and Sam and Wanda immediately offered to cook for you—because they are excellent cooks.

However, the only person who didn't make you feel welcome was Steve Rogers. He simply frowned at you without saying a word.

You had heard a lot about "America’s golden boy" and had expected a warmer welcome. It’s not like you wanted him to kiss your feet, but a little acknowledgment would have sufficed.

As you got to know everyone more and more, you and Steve still couldn’t get along. You don’t know what you did to make Steve hate you but if he does, then you’ll hate him right back.

Since then, you guys avoid talking to each other unless absolutely necessary.

So, that’s why when given the details of an undercover mission where you have to pretend to be Steve's fiancée, you do all you can to prevent being sent on that mission.

You and Steve are supposed to spend a night at this hotel near the target’s potential base.

Since in the next few days, they are planning to drop a bomb that would take out all of New York. You are meant to go to a party tomorrow night, where the leaders of target will be, and gather any information that could point you in the direction of their base in order to find and destroy the bomb.

"Uh, Tony. Tony," you repeat when he doesn’t answer the first time.

"What?" he replies, annoyed, already knowing what you’re going to say.

"Why do we have to be the couple?" You wave your hands between you and Steve. "Couldn’t anyone else do it? Like Nat and Steve?" You plead, "Even Steve and Bucky would be more believable." You almost beg.

Steve doesn’t say anything, but you know he agrees from the small nod you notice out of the corner of your eye.

"I already told you that Natasha and Bucky are with Sam on another mission right now, and we can’t wait for them to get back." He sighs, "You two are the only ones available for this kind of job right now, besides you’re skilled enough for this job."

You groan and close your eyes as you slowly accept your fate. You know Tony’s right, so you're just going to have to get through it. It can’t be that bad…right?

"Fine." You reluctantly agree.

"Okay." Steve says at the same time as you. You both glare at each other, annoyed that the other had spoken over them.

"Good." Tony exhales, relieved to be done with this conversation. "You’ll leave first thing tomorrow morning." He says before exiting the room.

You and Steve walk out of the room at the same time, accidentally brushing the backs of your hands against each other.

You move your hand away as fast as you can, trying to ignore the fluttery feeling you get in your stomach or how Steve didn’t seem to mind your closeness just now.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

It's the next morning, and you're kind of freaking out. It's not like there's anything to be nervous about. You know Steve.

Sure, you might not get along, but that doesn't mean this mission has to be the worst thing ever. Nonetheless you have to admit—never to Steve of course—that you find him a little bit intimidating, making this undercover mission that much more difficult.

And the ring, omg the ring. Tony got it, so of course it had to be the biggest and shiniest ring he could find. You almost felt embarrassed wearing it around Steve. You didn't fail to notice the way his eyes widened when he saw it for the first time.

You texted Nat last night to tell her the dreadful news, and she just laughed, saying that it was "the perfect opportunity for you and Steve to settle your differences." You simply rolled your eyes in response, cursing Natasha Romanoff in your head.

Now both you and Steve are in the Quinjet on your way to some fancy hotel in complete silence. There’s been unintended eye contact here and there, but no words have been shared as you both come to terms with the fact that soon enough, you’ll have to be all lovey-dovey with each other.

You hate Steve, but you can try to hide that hatred, at least for a little while, until the mission is over.

"We’re landing in T-minus 2 minutes, get ready."

You side eye Steve, "You know I don't know what that means. In English, please."

He rolls his eyes while hiding his amusement, before repeating, "Two minutes till we land. Better?" He teases.

"Much." You sarcastically smile before walking away to "get ready" so you don't notice Steve chuckle. In reality, you just need time to mentally prepare for what’s about to happen.

You walk into the hotel, and it's like you're completely different people. You’re both smiling and walking close together—something you never thought you’d be doing with Steve Rogers. You get to the counter.

"Hi! We’re here for our honeymoon." You say to the receptionist with the brightest smile you can muster.

"Welcome, and wow, what a ring!"

"I know, he’s the best." You smile extra big and hold onto Steve’s arm for good measure, not missing how he tenses a little.

The receptionist smiles and asks, "Can I get a last name?"

"Smith." Steve answers with your undercover names before wrapping his arm around your waist. You try your best to act natural.

"Oh right, I see your name here." The receptionist smiles. "You are booked for our honeymoon suite. It has the best view…and bed." She winks and gives you your key cards.

Of course Tony had to make sure you kept up the image of a married couple by booking that room.

Steve looks down to hide his blush as you awkwardly laugh before heading off to the elevators.

As soon as the elevator doors close, you guys distance yourselves from each other, acting as if nothing happened, and ride up the elevator in silence. Not addressing the elephant in the room; there’s only one bed in a honeymoon suite.

Once you get to the room, you throw all your stuff down, which is a lot—it turns out an undercover mission requires a lot of different outfits.

You guys still haven’t talked, but then Steve breaks the silence saying, "Look, we don't have to talk, just make sure you’re ready for the party by 7:00."

"Got it." You sigh slightly dejected, not missing the fact that he would rather not talk to you right now.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Once you’ve gotten ready for the party, wearing a dark red slip dress that hugs your body just right, you meet Steve outside of the hotel room.

Steve, who is in a blue suit and tie, and doesn’t have any effect on you at all.

When he sees you, you think you hear a hitch in his breath, but you choose to ignore it.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You question.

“Your dress it’s…you look...” He never finishes his sentence and looks away instead.

“Thank you?..." You squint your eyes. "Anyway, you ready?" You ask.

He clears his throat and continues to look anywhere but you. "Yeah, let’s go."

Once you arrive at the bar where the party is being held, you and Steve walk in side by side. Almost too close, but you do have to sell this whole engaged thing.

It’s crowded and smells like a mixture of alcohol and sweat.

"Alright, try to blend in, but keep an eye out." He mentions discreetly, without looking into your eyes.

"Aye aye captain." You smirk and head straight for the bar.

Steve gives you a small glare before walking away.

You guys split up because you figured it would be easier for you to attract men when they didn’t see you with another man, or in this case didn’t care regardless of the huge engagement ring on your finger.

The whole engagement ploy was there to fall back on in case you needed to get away from one of them without blowing your cover.

Turns out you didn't have to work very hard to ‘keep an eye out,’ seeing as the man you were looking for was walking up to you right now.

"What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?" He asks after sitting a bit too close to you.

You try not to roll your eyes and giggle instead, "Looking for a drink."

"Let me buy you one." He says instead of asking.

"Sure.” You answer anyway. “Sooo, what's a guy like you doing here?" You ask flirtingly.

"Work thing." He seems secretive about his answer, so you try to pry more out of him.

“Oh, really, me too!" You fake enthusiasm. "I work at an office that requires we go out for," you put up air quotes, "office bonding every year." You roll your eyes. "Is that why you’re here too?"

"Uh…yeah, basically. My job’s pretty private, so I can't tell you much."

You pout and move closer "Oh come on! You’re not a spy, are you? You can tell me."

The man somewhat breaks, "Fine, but you have to meet me on the floor under this later tonight, that’s where my coworkers and I hang out. Then I’ll tell you what I do. Okay sweetheart?" He holds your chin.

You try not to cringe, "Okay, see you then."

He walks off, and Steve immediately shows up.

“What’d he say?”

You grin, "The guy’s a dumbass, he practically gave me all the info we need. He said to meet him in the basement where he and the rest of his group ‘meetup’ often."

You watch as Steve finally pieces it together and then says, "It's here. We’re in Mime’s base."

"Yeah." You nod. "We’ve just never thought to look in the basement of a dingy bar."

Steve nods and looks genuinely impressed that you figured that out in just the few minutes you talked with him.

You inwardly beam at the thought of impressing Steve.

"I noticed some of the members walking around the room earlier, we should go now before they meet up underground." Steve says.

You two leave right away and covertly in search of the explosive in the basement.

You are searching every room in that basement, behind every door you come across, only to be surprised when you see guards heading your way.

“Sorry. Can I kiss you?” Steve asks almost too quickly for you to understand. You nod anyway, putting complete trust in him.

You freeze, and before you know what’s happening, your back’s against a wall and his soft lips are against yours. Steve is kissing you. OMG, Steve is kissing you. After getting over the initial shock, you reciprocate.

You're not even aware that the guards have left until Steve pulls away. Breathing heavily, you gape at each other before awkwardly returning your attention to the mission.

Right, the mission. That’s the only reason Steve kissed you—to make the guards unsuspicious. You ignore the bad feeling that leaves in your stomach and instead get back on track.

"Found it! Deactivating it now," Steve yells from across the room before you catch up to him.

Steve successfully deactivates the bomb and you both let out a deep exhale, pleased that everything was over. At least that's what you thought.

Out of the corner of your eye and behind Steve's back, you see a man with a gun. Without thinking, you push Steve out of the way, barely evading the bullet yourself, and run up to knock the guy out before he can think to pull the trigger again.

You turn around to see Steve on the floor, panting with a surprised look on his face.

"Get up. We need to go before the rest of them find us." You say quickly, helping Steve up and running out of there.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

After debriefing with Tony over a call and deciding that it was too exhausting to fly back to the compound tonight, you both choose to stay at the hotel. And nothing has been said since.

Steve is mad at you—well, more than usual. He’s been quiet, too quiet. Plus, he’s distancing himself further from you by staying on the couch without even discussing who gets the bed.

You honestly don't know why it bothers you so much. You thought you would enjoy Steve’s silence, but after the day you had, his silence only makes you nervous.

Not that you expected him to say thank you for saving his life, but once again, some sort of acknowledgement would have been nice.

He’s on the couch while you're sitting up on the bed, pretending to watch whatever's playing on the tv.

You try to think of something to say, but only come up with: "Is everything okay, Steve?"

He lets out a scoff, and you're tired of his scoffing. How dare he be annoyed with you when you haven't done anything to deserve this treatment?

You get off the bed in frustration, crossing your arms, "What? What is it?!"

Steve‘s eyebrows are raised when he looks up at you, having never seen you this angry before, but he quickly adjusts his expression to appear unaffected.

"I don't know what you’re talking about." He mumbles in an attempt to avoid having this conversation.

Now it's your turn to scoff. "I helped you out there, and I can’t even get as little as a nod," You explained with lowered brows.

Steve sighs, "Don't act like you did that to help me. You wouldn't care if I got injured. What you did was reckless, you could have gotten seriously hurt." He argued.

You can’t believe what you’re hearing. "Are you kidding?! You could have gotten seriously hurt." You throw back at him. "I was only trying to help, like any teammate would," Your arms come up before dropping in exasperation.

His jaw tightens, "I would heal. You wouldn’t."

"You might be a super soldier, but you still hurt." You whisper the last half of the sentence. And that seems to change things because Steve’s eyes soften. Look, I know you hate me-"

"What?" Steve interrupts, hurt that you could say that.

You sigh and look straight at Steve, finally asking what you’ve been too scared to for the longest time, "Did I do something wrong? Why do you hate me?" You ask, trying not to get emotional.

Steve gets up from the couch with a wounded look on his face and takes a step towards you. "How could you think that I hate.." He breathes out before continuing, "You didn't do anything wrong. I did." He looks down.

You furrow your brows, and Steve explains, "I don’t hate you. It’s...the opposite actually."

Now you’re even more confused.

He finds it hard to look at you when he says, "I’ve liked you since the day you walked into the compound. You made me feel a way I hadn't in a long time, and I didn't know how to deal with that. So instead, I distanced myself from you, hoping this feeling would go away, but it didn't. It hasn’t."

Your eyes widen, not knowing what to say.

He looks back up at you and takes another step forward. "It’s only intensified, and I soon realized that I wanted to get to know you. Except I thought you hated me, so I gave up on that idea."

“But now I know you never did, I just made you hate me back.”

You stand there, speechless, and with your eyebrows raised. Steve held your eyes with his as he confessed, "I'm sorry for ever making you think you did anything wrong and for treating you so horribly. I’m so sorry." It’s only then that you notice how close Steve has gotten. His clean and beautiful scent flooding your senses.

You softly gasp when he takes both your hands in his and whispers, "I could never hate you."

Your heart beats so fast in your chest as you stare deeply into each other’s eyes before he moves one of his hands to hold your face, and you hold his.

You move even closer together, “Can I kiss you?” he whispers.

You nod before feeling the soft warmth of his lips embrace your own. It was a gentle kiss that communicated things your words couldn't.

When you both finally pull away, you just stand there for a moment, foreheads touching, breathing heavily, unable to open your eyes for a bit. Basking in the warmth of being near each other.

“I like you too, Steve,” you finally say and he only responds by kissing you again.

"Plus, I couldn’t stand Sam and Bucky's teasing if they knew how much I liked you." Steve jokes when you pull away again.

You laughed softly. Maybe Nat was right, this was perfect.

Guess the room having one bed isn’t a problem for you two anymore…

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