#peter parker loves cereals

[kelconfetti]

peter likes to be on thw ceiling. he often frgets hes upside down.

he tries to make himself a bowl of cereal, but forgetd hes on the ceiling adn spills the entire box on the floor.

tony comes home to fimd a comically large pile of cereal in the middle of his kitchem

#🧃 ˗ˋ ୨ zephs rambling (＞。☆) #spiderman #marvel #mcu #irondad #/silly #peter parker #spiderson #iron dad #i need this #fanfic #incorrect marvel cinematic universe #cereal #autistic spiderman #autistic peter parker #irondad and spiderson #the sillies #i love these guys #theyre autistic #new fanfic idea just dropped

[tarjapearce]

Bad Teachings (Pt. 18)

Older! Miguel O'Hara x Reader

WARNINGS: angst, parental abusive relationship, arguments, emotional distress, comfort towards the end, fluff, Soft! Miguel, Romantic and soft smut, p in v sex, oral (F! receiving) relationship stablishment.

Summary: Something is born from the chaos' ashes.

A/N: Te quiero is a softer yet still affectionate form of an I love you. (It is said in the early stages of a relationships) ✨

(P. d. Hope you enjoy as much as I did :'3)

Previous

Chapter's song:

"So, you and..." Peter cleared his throat while Miguel added a couple of coffee filters and packages into his cart. Peter secured Mayday's baby carrier and added a couple of granola in his own.

Grocery shopping proved to be as effective as a stress reliever and a multifunctional task. While both men restocked for their homes, the act of sharing secrets came in hand with it.

"What about it?" Miguel grunted as he examined the ingredients of a creamer and returned it back to the shelf to then grab a couple of cereal boxes. Granola and berries for him and almond and honey for you, something he noticed you ate ever since staying at his home.

"Oh, nothing. Just... took me by surprise to know you were back in the dating scene. You're dating right? Wait, stupid question, of course you are, you're freaking living together."

Miguel stared at him with a quirked brow and a deadpan.

"I'm more surprised you barely remembered her, when you agreed to help her out."

Petter grunted with goof chuckle, "Again, I'm sorry. I forgot about it."

"No te olvidas la cabeza porque nomás la traes pegada." (You don't forget your head cause it's stuck with you.)

Miguel's grumbles brought Mayday a giggle as she clapped at her papa getting sassed at.

The both moved to the meat section and filled the carts with an assorted selection of cuts. The background music made Mayday sway her feet and mumbling along at the lyrics.

Miguel chose between some steaks, and Peter asked for some things at the clerk.

"For how long have you been, you know, dating and all that?"

"It's recent. Almost a month perhaps."

Miguel then moved to the flours section and got some corn added to his cart, Peter in the other hand just tossed in the already made tortillas package.

"Wait... So, let me get this straight. You just recently started dating and you're already living together."

Miguel shrugged nonchalantly and sighed, "Basically. It wasn't planned though."

"Huh?" Mayday slapped Peter's face softly, trying to get his attention while pointing at a bright colored package of ice cream. He put the thing in his cart without much thought, "What do you mean it wasn't planned?"

"Long story short, her apartment flooded, the shitty man she has for a landlord never helped out, she's having it bad with her parents. Couldn't let her go back to them-"

"So you stepped in"

"That's sums it up."

A couple of emotions, crossed Peter. Surprise the main one. Everyone talked about how much he had changed ever since he got married and had Mayday, but in truth, he had also been an spectator the whole time. He had witnessed first row how many of the people he surrounded himself with had changed, Miguel wasn't the exception.

He remained ever blunt and hard around the edges, but these had softened, like him.

Was this thanks to you?

Undoubtedly. He didn't know the circumstances the sudden relationship had been born under, but his friend seemed at ease, nearly happy. It was enough for Peter. Plus he got to see him more.

Even though you were their student, he supposed that title was long left behind ever since you graduated. There were many questions that crammed up into his head but wasn't sure to ask, given Miguel's reserved nature. But as his best friend, Peter assumed being that granted him at least more trust above the rest.

"When did you started to-"

"Parker" Miguel chided and Peter huffed

"C'mon, pal. I mean, if you're gonna start bringing her around reunions and stuff, I gotta know, so I don't mess up again."

Miguel kept filling his cart with some toiletries and a couple of things that reminded him of the little things that made you, while partially ignoring Peter.

He took two pairs of dark socks for himself, but stopped in the woman's section.

"Been thinking about something actually." Miguel mumbled as his eyes darted through the array of fuzzy ankle length socks you'd probably stop to gawk at.

"And that is?" Mayday screeched as soon as she saw the socks and Peter's brow quirked when Miguel picked up a pair of black ones and purple. He ended up tossing in the purple socks with some lighter shade hearts imprinted on them, alike the ones he saw you wearing the first night you slept next to him after the incident.

"I'll ask her to move in with me."

Peter's eyes blinked, nonplussed.

Who was this man before him? More importantly, what had you done to him? How had you cracked his walls so effortlessly when he had taken years to open up to him.

"Are you...?" Inlove?

"Sure? Isn't it too soon?"

"Maybe."

He shrugged and added a couple of white tank tops in the cart.

"I know I'm serious about it."

Of course he was. If there was something Miguel was known for, was his unabashed commitment once he got into relationships, even if they failed. Tempest had also lived with him for four years. A natural thing to happen according to his brain.

But even so, something couldn't help but feel off..

"Right, but do you think she'll agree?"

Miguel's shoulders slumped, a hand passed over his wavy strands, trying to soothe the sudden doubt Peter awakened.

He wouldn't pressure you into things, but the idea had been roaming in his mind for quite a time. But solidified as a possibility that night you comforted him after that nightmare. He wanted you there, but also feared it would be too much.

Was he being too much? Even at his fourty two years of experience there were things that still made him feel like a young and coy man, unsure of his next step. He's never been good when it came to expressing himself without feeling panicky or awkward.

Miguel knew he wanted you there, with him. Attraction was undeniable between both, and there was something he couldn't put a name yet. Adoration perhaps? Love was too soon to get in both's vocabulary, even though at times he was oh so close to blurt that out because his body demanded it.

He could say Te quiero, a softer yet still version of a powerful I love you. Cause he was taking his time in enjoying you and whatever thing that bloomed between the both completely and throughly. And what a better way to do so than securing a place within his home specially just for you?

"I hope so."  Oh the mess you made out of him.

Peter's breath hitched upon his reply and exhaled deeply. But there was one little detail in the way.

"Have you, uh... Told her about Gabriella?"

Peter tried with all his might to not touch sensitive fibers that even to this day, made his and Miguel's heart splinter in many heartrending directions. Even more when he saw Miguel's shoulders tense up and his head shake softly.

"Haven't found the courage yet."

Mayday yawned and curled her head into Peter's chest.

Not that Peter blamed him, despite years parading through them both and their friendship, Miguel was unable to talk about Gabriella without turning in this blameworthy and broken man that would berate himself to death if possible.

"Well, if this is going for the long run, wouldn't it be better that you'd sit with her and talk about it? I'm not saying explain detail by detail, but just a concise thing for her to understand you a bit better. It'll make you both stronger, if that's what you're aiming for."

It was Miguel's turn to stare curiously at him. MJ had definitely been a good influence in his life.

"I'll talk to her when the right time comes."

"Hopefully your time isn't too late, pal. But in all, Hope everything works out for you both. She seems good"

"She is"

Too good for me at times.

----

You've never been one for being explosive, but this situation was purposely and constantly picking at your past wounds that scarring was proving itself tricky.

You didn't want to make Miguel concerned or upset given his sudden mood swings after that nightmare. And as much as you wanted to know, life made sure to keep you busy with a good dose of 'mind your business' in the shape of a call from none other than  mother.

Apparently Mr. Cufton contacted her since you missed a couple of calls, probably to discuss something regarding your apartment. And now, you were on the door of your old home. It felt like yesterday everything had turned so chaotic and blurry

Neither Hobie or Mrs. Brown were there to save you this time.

As soon as you reached the end of the hall, mother appeared in the elevator along Mr. Cufton.

They talked like nothing was wrong in the world, like if they had been intimate friends for quite the time, like if she hadn't mouthed him when the chaos happened. A shudder came down your spine, as nauseas fought for control on your throat. Mother settled her eyes on you, her skin crinkling as the smile reached her gaze.

Oh god...

Mr. Cufton on the other hand remained with a reserved smile, and soon approached, greeted you and opened the  door.

The smell of mold reminisced in the air despite it being long gone. The once jagged and bleeding open wall, was now immaculate and pristine as the first time you signed the lease. There was no longer that annoying drip drop from the kitchen, and the water was no longer freezing as Mr. Cufton showed you and your mother the repairs.

"I truly apologize for the silence in my end. Was doing everything in my power to get this fixed before a new administration comes up."

"It's alright." Was all you managed to mumbled as your eyes raked over the visible parts of the place.

There was a translucent plastic covering the windows and strapped at the walls. The smell of the oily paint emanated from a bucket and tools placed in the corner where you'd put your old books before Miguel assembled your favorite shelf.

Dust flowed through the void, earning a sneeze from Mr. Cufton. Your mother examined your room and every space and area your eyes were reluctant to probe yet.

"So it's ready to be occupied again?" Mom asked as you looked through the hallway, waiting for Hobie or his mom to suddenly appear and spare you from the gnawing dread clutching at your chest.

"Pretty much. Within a week you could move back in if you wanted to make it immediate. Or we could assign you another room. Some tenants didn't renovate their contract and left, and there's a single bedroom place in the upper floor if you're interested that is."

Wonder why.

Your lips pursed at the sudden thought. Another room sounded good, you had heard the upper floors had the best views and renovations. All you had to do was to pick. Yes for the upper floor or wait for a week more to move back in the place you had been calling home for the past two years.

What about Miguel?

You swallowed and rubbed your eyes while heaving a deep exhale.

"What do you pick, sweetie?"

Her voice snapped you out of the trance your brain had suddenly put you in. It was going to be a difficult talk.

"Hm?"

"Which one you'll pick?, the upper floor sounds good, unless you can wait a bit more. Wouldn't mind a bit of consideration for my knees."

Mr. Cufton and she laughed, but your mind was elsewhere. The timer had come to an end to your little fantasy and reality was dragging you down through broken glasses.

How could you explain him that you could go back? Would it change anything to be apart from him? You'd grown so used to him at this point that your nose had already memorized his smell, the exact amount of roast he liked in his coffee, his sweat after returning for his Sunday's early workouts, the mezcal he drank, the strawberry perfume that came from the black door, and the cologne he sometimes used just to have you locking your arms on his neck, and pecking his face until you got more than an airy chuckle from him.

All of that, soon gone to be replaced with the unpleasant musty and moldy smell that took you two weeks to get rid of when you first moved in and stagnant loneliness. Even though your apartment had the perfect temperature for so many things, you had somehow grown used to Miguel's cold place. A perfectly convenient excuse to snuggle against him and sleep in his arms. Not even a pillow could compare to the comfort and softness he offered.

All soon gone.

Mr. Cufton left, but your mother remained glued to the floor, the door's click brought you back to reality again

"Tell me you're staying here."

A tremor invaded your senses upon realizing a bit too late you had been left alone once more with the final boss.

"I don't know. I waited so long for this that it doesn't feel good anymore."

"You'll get used to it. I know. You're a smart girl."

"Am I?"

It escaped your mouth with such incredulity mom jarred her arms in her waist with pursed lips.

"Where have you been staying?"

There we go.

The brewing anxiety had prepared you for this kind of impacts, the more you were exposed to them, the more you started to identify the signs, the easier was to turn completely guarded. Your armor was already on and strapped, ready for the verbal spar.

"With a friend of mines." You headed for the bathroom to see how the fixer uppers worked but mom's words stopped you right in the wall's frame.

"Is Mr. O'Hara that friend?"

The implicit accusation remained there, etching at every apparent calm word that came out of her. Your name was called and your hands bawled into tight fists. Manicured nails digging in the fat of your palms.

"Is he?" Her tone demanding and severe.

"God... Yes! Okay?! Yes. I've been staying with him!"

You nearly roared as you turned around, one of your hands squeezed the keys so tight some of them indented their shape on your flesh.

The disappointment in mom's face was so familiar you had been immunized with it, leaving nothing but the urge to flee. But this time, there was no place where you could go and hide as everything was bare, stripped to nothing but the main arena you were having your match. The first punch had been delivered.

"Why..." your voice broke, "Why can't we have a conversation without ending up fighting?."

"Oh cut it. Don't give me that right now when I just found out you've been staying at your teacher's house! How indecent is that?! What were you thinking?!"

Your chest thrummed in such a violent compass you felt it growing tighter, just like the knot in your windpipe. Even though you didn't want it, life was forcing you to face this. To face her even if you screamed and begged to not.

"To run away from you! You suffocate me, alright?!" Your voice, though broken, came firm enough to have her nonplussed for a second.

"No. No, no. This isn't about me. You're... You've been sleeping with Mr. O'Hara haven't you?" Accusation was no longer able to be hidden, and this only set everything inside you ablaze, "Haven't you?!"

"What if I have? You're gonna ground me for that?"

Mother's eyes were blurred with the emerging tears.

"Oh god..."

"Oh god, what?! Mom. He has been helping me through this instead of-."

"I did not raise you to be like this." She mumbled while pacing with shaky hands on her mouth, mumbling over and over. You had to lean on the wall to gather up a bit more strength before round two happened.

"This is exactly why I don't visit you and dad. You're always at it! Always! Why can't it be different for once?!"

"'Cause apparently that's the only way you can understand!" her voice grew an octave higher

"Understand what?! That you're awful!?"

Your words managed to assert a blow on her armor.

"My goodness," She hiccuped as her hands wiped her rolling tears, "Everything your father and I have done is for you to be well! I'm just trying to protect you!"

"Protect me from what?! From someone that has been doing everything to kept me afloat?!"

"He's your teacher! Your fucking teacher! " Mom roared, "Double your age! Goddammit, your dad is just a couple of years older than him! You could have fourty and still that's inappropriate!

"And still he's a better companion that you both."

"Don't you dare disrespect me like that, young lady!" She waved an angry finger at you.

"But it's okay if you do?! It's ok for you to barge into my life, try to control everything, and decide with whom I get to sleep with? I haven't fucked him if that's you're worried about!" You seethed

"Are you hearing yourself? You think Mr. O'Hara loves you?" Her eyes stalked yours, moving her head in every direction your head moved 

"Stop." You rejected her however, trying to get to the main door and leave. But all her anger and frustration had been left out in shape of words that marred eachother.

"He just wants your body! The fucking heat you give to his sheets for him to not feel lonely at night! You're so gullible into thinking that he cares for you!"

"He cares for me more than you could ever do! He doesn't criticise me over stupid things, doesn't treat me like a stupid porcelain perfect doll, He treats me as a person! "

She took your shoulders with a surprising gentleness you weren't used to from her ad she shook you gently.

"A person that is falling into his trap! Older men are no good. He will care for you until he grows tired, until someone else amuses him. And once he gets what he wanted, he'll throw you away-"

"Stop!" you pleaded and she did, only when she saw your tears rolling down the cheeks. A sigh heaved from her lips, and you wiped your liquid pain off your face.

"I won't be there for the holidays, I'm-."

"Don't be silly. Og course you'll be there-"

"I won't. I'm done. I-I can't anymore."

Your hands recoiled from her instantly, as if you had been burned with the touch alone, you walked over the door but sensing the sudden shift in your tone, she clung to you once more, and unlike that time on the dinner, this time her sudden fear of losing you completely made her cling with all her might. But once more you managed to escape. You always did.

She begged your name but you conceded a last look her way.

"I'm... happy, dating a man that against all you've said, does care for me in ways I've never experienced before. And yes, mom. I might be whatever you weren't brave enough to call me for dating my old teacher from college, but I don't care. I... If it doesn't work then fine, that's how life is, but don't pretend to know me or him, cause you know shit about us."

Mom had to swallow a thick lump in her throat as she kept her hands to herself, "When Mr. O'Hara breaks your heart, you'll know where to find your dad and I."

You huffed while wiping the tears off your face.

"Don't worry. I've got some real friends this time for that. Take care."

You left, with a powerful slam on the door, closing that gut-wrenching chapter for good. Or at least hoped it was for good.

----

You had taken a time to properly calm yourself before driving back, but you didn't want to face Miguel yet. You needed to at least crawl up in a place where you could contain back your demons.

You didn't want to taint Miguel with them, he had been having enough as it is to add yourself as another toll.

You ended up driving aimlessly through the city, until the canvas in the sky turned completely jet black, with the moon and a few stars as the only dash of color in it.

You had stopped on a lookout, letting thr occasional intrusive thought of revving the engine alive and press the speeder. Before your mind took a dark turn, the buzz in your phone snapped your attention to the screen. Miguel's name in full display of the screen and the hour, 9:45, pm.

If you had any doubts in for how long you've been driving, the hour said it all.

I'll be home soon—

You texted, unable to properly speak. To then drive back.

-----

Miguel's nerves were set into make a disaster out of his head. Where were you? Why weren't you home yet? Were you in danger? Had you left him for good?

The door closed with a quiet click and his worrysome eyes immediately focused on you, and his brows immediately furrowed with a frown.

Your eyes were red, some areas remained puffy and swollen, and your overall aura seemed to be barely crawling to him for safety.

He didn't think it twice to standing up and cradling you so carefully into his arms before you could vanish, yet you held his cheeks and kissed him, not that he complained the way you kissed him, but how could he enjoy such thing when something was troubling you.

"Mi amor-" He mumbled but you kissed him again and pushed him towards the couch, his hands caught you, "Wait"

"Just fucking kiss me." Genuinely confused in your behavior, he sighed as he cradled your hunching and trembling form against him and put your head on his chest instead, kissing your forehead over and over while his hands rubbed in soothing circles on your back and damned be him if he didn't feel his heart break upon your meltdown.

Your hands clung to him, like the only good thing in your life, meaning he, would disappear from your fingers. Like all the words your mother said would come true.

"Wanna... talk about it?" You could sense the hesitation in his voice for such phrase. He was trying though, for you, he would.

He had prepared you a dinner to finally pop that question to make it official for you both. But hours kept ticking and ticking and he grew concerned.

And now that he had you in his arms, weeping and clinging to him, his priorities changed. His thumb wiped away the falling tears and kissed your lips gently.

"It's... alot. I don't wanna bother you."

"No no, nada de eso. Tell me what happened, please." (None of that)

With a stifled sniff you curled even more into his chest, "Mom happened. Again."

An annoyed grunt erupted in his throat and his lips puckered. The urge to keep you at his side anchored tenfold in his mind.

"She knows we're together."

Oh...

His brow twitched together. That wasn't something he expected, but as inevitable as it was, the discomfit grew. He was aware something like this would happen, but knowing your parents now knew and got defensive about it to the point of making you cry, was something completely different. But again, something less to worry about, they knowing now was better for them to find out later.

"I guess she didn't take it well."

"Course she didn't. She told me you... were just using me for warming your sheets and that youd grow bored of me... and-"

He kissed you deeply while his hands cradled the broken pieces of you. As if with that kiss alone he'd glue the most important remnants back together as his thumb caressed your cheek with such care as if you were a ticking bomb about to explode.

"Your mother needs to shut the fuck up."

A chuckle. His lips curved in a soft smile that quickly faded upon your next words

"She's convinced that you'll break my heart cause you're older and stuff."

You sat back in the couch, gaining a bit of space to exhale a proper breath. He stood squeezing his hands together to place them next on his waist. Your heart pounded in your already feeble ribcage.

"I'm sorry..." Your lips pursed upon the sudden mood swing.

"Don't move. Stay there" He quickly disappeared in the room, leaving zero time for rebuttals, to quickly emerge with a small package on hand.

"You really need to stop apologizing for everything, guapa." He handed you the printed paper bag.

"What's this?"

"Open it." He sat next to you, swallowing the rest of the space with his frame and watching you, expectant as your eyes lit up as soon as the fuzzy socks came into your view

"I..."

"Saw 'em back at the store, and thought you might like them. I'm still convinced the washing machine has the other you lost."

You half giggled half sobbed.

"Thank you" He cradled you once more and ran his long fingers through your hair, gently massaging your scalp.

How could your mother could say such things when he was proving you wrong? How could she say he was only using you when he remembered tiny and insignificant details about yourself?

The sudden truth laid bare on your tongue, hoping it wouldn't change anything between you both.

"Also... Mr. Cufton said I could go back."

His eyes softened as he took your hand and squeezed it. He had been way too caught up living the ultimate fantasy of you that forgot that little detail. Still, he gulped.

"So...You're going back to your place?"

"I... I don't know if honest. Cufton said I could take a room from the upper floor, a bit cheaper since he feels at debt

for not answering this whole time. Or I could wait a week more and go back to my old apartment."

Your throat was dry. Fingers quivered underneath him and he inched closer, gathering the courage to finally speak again.

"What if..." He passed his tongue over his dry lips and tried again, "Why don't you move in with me?"

He'd be a liar to say that he didn't melt under that surprised look you gave him. He could see your breath hitching in your throat, feel the tremor under his warm skin. You blinked. He mistook that for a hesitation.

"If you want to that is." He removed his hand to slick back nervously his hair, "I know is soon but-"

"You want me to stay?"

"Yes."

He nodded vehemently, without dither. Your hand enveloped yours in a tender embrace. He knew words didn't do the trick completely for you, so he took your feet and removed the shoes, then the socks, earning him an airy giggle from you.

"What are you doing, Miguel?"

He dressed your feet in the socks he chose for you and smiled as they perfectly hugged your feet in a warm embrace. An extension of his affection towards you.

He then cradled your face again and kissed you. His lips devoured yours like his life depended on leaving you breathless. Only to break it enough to mumble in between soft pants.

"I'm showing you."

Your skin crawled the more your heart thumped. His lips devoured you again and again until he loomed over your frame in the couch. His hands explored each dent of your body to finally hook them on your thighs and pull you over his lap.

He gently squeezed your ass, ebbing you to wrap your legs around his waist.

A gasp escaped you when his mouth donned your skin with a trail of soft kisses as his hands removed your sweater, coming in contact with a familiar yet annoying undergarment for him, to return to your lips

"Stay."

His eyes begged, his thumb pressed against your lips and you kissed it. Your fingers taunted the hems of his wool  sweater, and slowly removed it.

A big hand grazed up your spine, igniting alive a shudder to then pull you down  gently by the nape and kiss you.

He never got enough of your lips if honest. And the way your frame perfectly slotted against his, only reinforced the belief you were in the right place at the right time.

A deep shade of red bloomed in your cheeks as he held your body effortlessly and took you to your shared bedroom. After all, he was about to show you the meaning of everything he had said ever since the friendship's line blurred.

He laid you down on the bed, your hands reached for his face as he unbuttoned your jeans and removed them with care, eyes twinkling the more skin he kept discovering.

Your toes rubbed up and down his clothed thighs. His breath was cut short as soon as his fingers grazed your stomach, his thumb licked your skin deliberately, until the rest of his fingers  barged into the party of sensations they were about to unleash.

He had to mentally slap himself to keep those leering thoughts away. This wasn't about him and his cock, it was all about you and your pleasure. As it would be from now on.

The gaze he scrutinized you with had your chest blooming with a warm sensation you thought never in your life get to experience.

His hands roamed and worshipped every curve, bump and slope of skin in you to finally release your breast. Unlike the first time he nearly ripped your clothes off, he treated your garments with the same respect he treated you.

A tinge of flush adorned his sharp cheeks, pupils blown upon the beatific sight of your bare breast, rising and falling in a nervous tempo.

His head dipped to kiss the slope of your neck, and descended once more down your neck, kissing and tasting your skin under wet kisses. You quivered.

"Eres tan hermosa, mi amor."

He crooned as his lips inched closer and closer to your already erected nipple.

You didn't know whether to moan or gasp from the ministrations he was putting you under. Your hand immediately clutched his scalp as his tongue played with your taut peaks, but his limb made sure to remove the last bit of clothes he deemed necessary to go. The socks he just put you, were the only thing covering you against the cold temperature.

Once the panties were off your hips, his hands reached for your breast, squeezing them gently, together. His mouth tried to cup them both at the same time.

Your feet turned bold as they pushed bit by bit his sweatpants off, but they still hung on the middle of his butt, half exposing the growing erection between his own thighs

"Déjame disfrutarte, preciosa." (Let me enjoy you.)

His face once again dipped in the valley between your breasts, placing soft kitten licks down your abdomen, his tongue dangled at every contraction your torso did.

He smiled at the goosebumps erupting in your skin, but chuckled at the soft mewl you gave him when his nose nuzzled the inside of your thigh as he hooked it on his shoulder.

His thumb flicked softly your clit, then spreaded open your folds, revealing your sweetness to him, earning him a whimper.

"May I taste you, mi niña?"

Your head bobbed, light with the swirling sensations inside it.

Miguel kneeled before you and parted your thighs while pulling your hips closer to his face.

Your hands crumpled the sheets underneath you as soon as his mouth delved in your flesh.

Your hips stuttered when the vibrations of his groan rumbled in your skin. His tongue tasted and pressed against the pearly nub of nerves with such hunger his senses felt relieved upon having your scent all over his taste buds.

His tongue curled and flattened on your moist hole, slurping with gentle sucks before returning upwards with a dribble on your clit.

His name rolling of your mouth was the perfect melody for his ears. His lips cupped your mount and feasted like starving man.

The sheer though of having you completely for himself from now on ignited this urge to show you how your life with him would be.

Pleasure was one of the many things he had in store, and now that he had a complete access in your life, he was ready to prove himself the opposite of what your mom had told you.

Your toes curling in and your muffled hiccups was the cue he needed to raise on his feet once more. A frustrated whine remained in your throat while your chest rose up and down at the beat of your erratic breathings.

And by God, you were gorgeous.

He removed the last bit of clothes that imprisoned him and held him back from having you.

But as much as he wanted and ached to have you quivering, crying and biting the sheets underneath him, he'd enjoy you.

He'll teach you what it meant to be his.

Miguel cradled you once more to accommodate the pillows underneath your head, to then place you above them with the utmost care he could muster.

But you were urgent and pulled him closer, earning another soft chuckle from him.

"F-Fuck me." Pleasure had made your brain a liquid goo, swirling in your head. In truth you had forgotten what was like to be in such way with someone else. Life had made sure to keep you busy and with a constant dry spell, but as soon as Miguel came back to your existence, this close and personal, your body seemed to function again.

And what better proof of it than watch him coat himself in your drenched folds, hissing at the heat that kissed and begged to swallow him whole.

How long had it been for you? months? Years? both? You didn't know. Casual things and friends with benefits were off the list since you didn't have them neither the time for them, and for some reason your body felt off. Shut down.

But this man before you, made magic cause your body seemed entranced to the point of only being responsive to him. In the few times he had you, he had learnt all your reactions to his ministrations. He knew what you liked, what got you quivering like jelly and wet.

His hands roamed your body once more, having a proper taste of your burning heat irradiating from every pore indented in your skin. He cupped your face and leaned down to kiss you.

Soft, sweet, packed with devotion and something so scarily beautiful you refused to put a name on it yet to avoid tainting it.

What he had done out of you? What he had turned you into? All you wanted to do was drown in him and his devotion.

"I want you to enjoy it, ok?. The proper way. Can I?"

His swollen tip pushed against your folds, taunting your muscles snd waiting for your confirmation

"Can I make love to you, mi amor?"

The question itself sent a new wave of sparks soaring through your body.

A breathless yes on his mouth was everything he needed to guide his tip inside, to push in slowly but stopped upon sensing you tense a bit too tight around him.

"Fuck" He grunted at the sudden grip on him, "mfuck, Dios mio." He mumbled while squeezing the pillow underneath his hand and your head with a breathless laugh. "Relax, preciosa."

"It's been ages, sorry." You chuckled and slowly followed his breathings to ease the discomfort and relax, allowing him to push another inch inside, filling you slowly and carefully. His lips pecked your face, planting soft caresses all over your countenance, earning him a giggle.

What had you done to him? He'll never know for sure, the only thing certain in his life right now was you. You had granted him the utmost honor of being yours.

With a roll of his hips and a moan he pushed in all of him inside. The way your tightness grope and kissed him was a complete religious experience, and he wasn't precisely a devotee.

But when it came to you, he didn't mind being on his knees, worshipping and doting you like you were his salvation. His light.

The delicious whimpers that escaped you only fuelled his adoration tab higher. Your insides felt like heaven  welcoming him everytime his tip reached the hilt within.

The room's once cold temperature vanished as soon as your veneration started.

Even if his thrusts were slow, Miguel made sure for you to feel them to the fullest. Delving in and out, earning lovely whimpers and other delectable noises to his already hazed brain.

He drank from your breaths, tasting your mouth until you begged for air. Your thighs squeezed his narrow waist, and my, he had to bite his lip with enough force to remind himself it wasn't about his pleasure but yours.

His sculpted and muscular thighs separated.

"Hold on me" Miguel wrapped your trembling arms around his neck as he hooked an arm underneath you, to finally pull you upwards, towards him.

"Miguel!" Your teeth clenched as this new angle allowed you both to feel everything tenfold.

Your breast flattened against his well chiseled chest, rubbing your nipples in a soft back and fro motion, thanks to his hips.

Large and cinnamon hands squeezed gently your pair of supple glutes, guiding them ontop of himself, aiding you to properly receive his adoration.

"I'm so so close..." You breathed in between ragged and sharp inhales, kissing his lips and face over and over to then choke as he increased the pace enough to have you clinging to him and bouncing gracefully on his cock. Your face hid in the crook of his neck.

"No, no, mi amor. Mírame, por favor, mírame" (Look at me, please.)

Pleasure surely did a gorgeous display of his presence in your face. All of that perfect countenance he loved to kiss was pearled in sweat, a deep shade of red spreaded through your whole body, mouth shaped in a perfect 'o' that sometimes mutated into an 'a', breathing his air, crawling under his skin, and chipping away any last bits of his guarded heart.

There was no turning back, as the arrow kept pointing forward.

What you have done out of me?

Only he would and could provoke these things on your body. You were his.

The realization of such epiphany blurred his senses for a second he hadn't noticed he was kissing and grazing your neck with the prong of his enlarged canines.

The once forgotten taste, came flooding his memories in the shape of a whimper from him.

"Stay" He gurgled and your grip around his waist tightened. You rested your forehead against his, while the constant makeout noises from your union filled in the space around you with gentle and slow slaps.

The choke hold Miguel had into every fiber of you made you shudder and cry, drunk on pleasure.

"Please, stay. I can't-" He choked upon feeling his strength seeping away at the verge of his peak looming ominously on him, "I need you. You're-"

Another grunt that ended up in a growl as you trembled in his arms and groaned. Your nails dug on his flesh.

"So fuckin good f'me, mi amor"

His praising had sent such a powerful spark up your spine, that your body lurched impossibly closer to him, His hands immediately hoarded your wailing body, not caring much at how painfully delicious your tight walls spasmed around and trapped him in.

He laid you down and immediately drowned all of those exquisite laments with a deep kiss as his peak finally exploded within you.

His nose scrunched up and his teeth bared with the growl as he came. His back flexed and rippled at every messy and drowning breath he gave.

His hands immediately cupped your face, caressing it, letting the boiling breaths to fan each other's mouths, his forehead rested ontop of yours. Eyes ever soft and adoring at your tussled and perfect state.

"Eres toda mía ahora, preciosa" (You're all mine now)

He murmured, voice in a new tinge you've never heard before but sent happy jumps to your heart and fill your eyes with a happy glow. You just nodded, beyond enthralled in what finally laid ahead for the both, with a tired but honest smile.

"Te quiero*."

----

Taglist:

  @katitakenway @amylasagna @rositabluemoon @lyrasdrawer @plumplum2099 @damhanallagorm @chibiiichann @incustellar @taeecups @vonev @kinkybandages @del-ightfulling @tatatida @queenofroses22 @orangemango7 @migueloharastruelove @ctizu1 @vyxvi @zaddyskye69 @gejo333 @namjooningera @d1lf-loverrr @niyanispunk

@tsukkie-daisuke @brittney69 @emisprocrastinating @ednaaa-04 @cxmeiloorun7 @juneonhoth @sylveon-of-heart

@maomaimao @m4dyy @miguelbaby @mrsoharaxx @spiderpapi2099

#t writes✨ #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #miguel #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara smut #bad teachings #Spotify

[elletheactualmenace]

You Would do That for Me?

Pairing: MCU!Peter Parker x Stark!fem!reader

Summary: You hit two birds with one stone. Helping both you and Peter out in the process. Seems like a good plan, right?

Warnings: Verbal assault, Little but some physical assault, Catcalling, Bullying, annoying people just in general, swearing

Word Count: 5.04k

a/n: I tried to make this as enjoyable as I could, but some of this sucks, I tried really hard to get it to what I liked, but only some parts got there. Im hoping I’ll like the next part better. Sorry for the wait, but thanks for waiting! Also my Spanish is rusty lmk if it’s wrong.

Thoughts = “Italicized dialogue”

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3,

High school. Not the most appealing place for anyone, especially not if you are the one having to attend. You don't think there has ever been one person, that doesn't come from some high school musical bullshit world, that enjoys going to high school.

You are top of your class, and you'd think that would make it easier but that's far from the truth, specifically when you go to a school where everyone is supposed to be top of the class, or they were from the schools they had formerly attended. Smart people don't like being topped. So it isn't really personal when you get cussed out or get verbally bullied. At least you don't take it personally, not enough for people other than the ones who do it to know about it.

Today is the start of another exhausting day of school. Before you open the door to your room you once over your outfit, and mentally prepare yourself for everything that is to come. You let out a puff of air and begrudgingly walk down the hall and into the big elevator at the end of the hall.

"At least I don't have to walk down stairs," you mentally thank your father for being lazy, as you push the 'floor level' button.

"Good morning Y/n." Friday says as you walk into the kitchen. 

You mumble out a 'morning' and walk over to the pantry. You pull out a box of Honey Nut Cheerios. Then you get a bowl and a spoon, placing them on the counter next to the box of cereal.

"Hey kiddo," You hear your dads voice from behind you. You smile, turning to see him leaning against the fridge with a carton of milk in one of his hands. You chuckle, and walk up to him giving him a hug. He kisses your head while hugging you 

with just as much love.

"Hi dad." You say as he hands you the milk. Your dad gives you a look as he watches you tiredly get your breakfast.

"What?" You struggle to speak with a spoon full of food in your mouth.

When he doesn't say anything you ask again. "Dad, what is it?"

"Nothing, you just eat exactly like me." He chuckles out. And you scrunch your brows.

"Well how the hell else would I eat?" You ask. He gives you a pointed look, "I'm not going to quote any ancient museum piece but watch your mouth young lady." You put your hands up in apology.

“But It’s not even that bad of a word. S’not like you don’t say it.” You grumble slightly before stuffing another spoonful of Cheerios into your mouth.

“Although, that does sound like some old man I know, maybe I will let him know that you are finally starting to listen.” You give him a toothy grin and he shakes his head frantically.

“Don’t, please. I don’t want him to know he's rubbing off on me.” Your dad rambles out grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. You chuckle.

You both talk a while longer as you eat your cereal. 

“How’s school? Any drama I need to know about?” You roll your eyes at him.

“No, sadly, unless you consider Peter losing one of Ned's lego pieces and not talking to him for a whole four hours,” Your dad chuckles.

“I would say that's a decent amount of drama for those two,” You dad comments, and you continue your pass time chatter.

"Oh, also, sweetie, Happy is driving you to school today," You dad says as you finish up your cereal.

"But,” you start, “dad, you said you would." Your disappointed look doesn't go unnoticed even though you try to not let it show.

"I know sweetie, but I can't today, I will try to find some time this week or next to drive you, okay honey? I'm sorry." He gives you a look of pity. And he really does want to drive you, he just can’t.

You can’t figure out why it bothers you so much. It’s just a ride to school. Maybe it’s because you barely ever see him. Maybe it’s because lately he has been more occupied with work than with his own daughter.

It bothers you that it bothers you. You shouldn’t be mad at him for working, for being a hero. You should get mad because you know it's not like he wants to blow you off.

"Yeah, um, ok," you put on a tight smile as you walk over to a counter stool that you backpack is sitting on, and sling it over one of your shoulders.

"Friday," Your dad calls out, and she immediately responds,

"Yes sir?"

"Call down Happy, and let him know, Y/n is ready to head out." Your dad finishes as he walks toward the hall leading to his office. He waves you a goodbye and you give a small smile in response.

Not even a couple minutes later Happy walks in, car keys in hand. "Come on kid, let get you to school," You nod and follow him outside.

The walk to the car is quiet. And Happy is not complaining with your ‘too tired to talk attitude’. He's not one for much unnecessary conversation. That's not to say he doesn't care for what you have to say, he just likes moments of quiet. Especially during the shitty morning.

"Hey, Happy?" You ask once he starts the car. He looks up at you through the rear view mirror letting you know he's listening.

"What did my dad have to get to?" You hear Happy sigh but don't say anything.

"Listen, your dad, he's a busy man, so it could really be anything." Happy informs you with a small sad smile, trying to make you feel better. You just nod looking down at your hands, so you don't have to look at another person trying to give you pity.

——

You slam your locker shut and turn to see Ned and Peter at their lockers that are a few away from yours. You nudge MJ and she closes her locker slightly to look at you.

"Yeah?" She asks and you nod towards the rest of your friend group. Mj doesn’t like that you called yourself that but she doesn’t have a better solution so she lets it slide.

"I'm going to go talk to them, meet up later?" You ask and she nods before bidding you goodbye.

"No, no, no, Peter, listen to me, I know it isn't a scam, because my cousins, best friends, little brother also ordered from the website and it came." Ned argues with who you are assuming is Peter.

"I don't think that's a credible source, dude. Have you even met your cousins, aunts, friends, brother?" Peter asks skeptically.

"It was my cousins, best friends, little brother." Ned grumbled out with an eye roll.

“The fact that you have to correct him just proves the point more.” You state bluntly entering the very stupid, conversation.

“See exactly!” Peter exclamins in your dereliction. Ned mumbles something out but you don’t quite catch it, Peter does though and his face goes pink and he hits Ned's arm.

“My, point proven,” Ned says quietly. And you brush it off assuming it's an inside joke. The bell rings and catches your attention. 

“Okay come on you five year olds, let's stop arguing about credible sources, and whose brother said what.” You put your hands on both of their backs and push them toward your shared first period classroom.

When you walk in and find your seat. MJ is already sitting, in the seat right next to yours. And behind you Peter and Ned sit down. When the final bell rings everyone is sat down and ready for a long boring lecture.

The teacher passes out assignments and you all finish the assignment pretty quick, so, per usual, you sit around talking, or more, arguing.

“We need to agree on something and stop arguing.” MJ says calmly. You are all arguing about the movie you’re all going to watch at your house on Friday night. When someone proposes a movie, someone else always doesn't like it.

“I'm sorry MJ, but I will not watch Titanic, I can’t.” You deadpan, arms crossed over one another.

“Oh, come on Y/n! It's not that bad!” Ned tries but you shake your head with a look of utter disgust.

“It is that bad, I physically can’t watch it. I know it’s iconic or whatever, but I won’t let that movie play at my house. It’s not going to happen.” You slam your fist on Peter and Neds shared desk.

“What about Shutter Island?” Peter suggests. Looking at you for approval and you shrug. “I'm good with that.” You say.

“What's with all the DiCaprio movies?” MJ asks. And Ned groans, running his hands down his face. “So that's a no?” Ned says more of a statement than a question.

“I never said no,” She tries but you put your hand out to stop her. “You didn’t have to, it's a no.” You say tiredly.

“We have zero chance at agreeing on a movie by Friday.” Peter says resting his face in his arms that are arms crossed across the table.

“You know what else it is at zero?” Flash asks as walking past us to get to his seat after turning in the assignment. 

Before you can tell him to piss off he continues. “Penis Parker’s girl game. You have Zero chance of ever getting any girl, even if they are the ugliest thing anyone has ever laid eyes on.” Flash’s friends snicker at his words and he laughs loud at his own joke.  As he walks past other kids in the class he gets fist bumps.

You look at him unamused. And when you see the sad embarrassed look on Peter's face you want to respond to Flash by cussing him out, but MJ gets to him before you do. 

“We get it Flash, you’re taking your insecurities out on Peter, because we all know your ‘girl game’ is peaking in high school.” MJ retorts glaring at Flash. She says girl game like it’s the stupidest terminology to use, because it is.

“His girl game is just going to keep getting better after we graduate from this high school shit hole” You add huffing out in annoyance.

Flash looks around trying to get people to stand up for him. But no one does. They all just look away or at whatever they were before.

“Whatever,” You see Flash shrink in his chair as he quietly speaks. You glance over at Peter, he gives you a small smile. 

“Thanks,” he whispers. You nod smiling at him.

The rest of class he’s quiet, and you can’t help thinking that this sort of thing happens a lot. You wish you could help him more, or that you could prevent it from happening. You sigh and stand when the bell rings, the subject still on your mind.

——

“I don’t know, MJ,” You start while unlocking your locker. “I like the idea of a horror movie, but I don’t know if the boys could take it.” She shrugs,

"Well we should just make them deal with it.” You hum in consideration, “I mean come on, think about how many times Ned has made us watch Star Wars?”

You nod in agreement. She does have a point. You can’t count on one hand how many times you’ve had to sit through one of the Star Wars movies.

“Alright, fine.” You huff out, “But you’re telling them.” You poke her shoulder with your finger when you say it.

“Deal,” She takes your hand into hers and shakes it. You chuckle, shaking back.

You and MJ start heading out the front doors of the building. You spot Ned and Peter, and wave to them. Ned waves and Peter smiles.

You and MJ part ways as she heads to the subway station, and you head over to a bodega to get some food while you wait for Happy.

You cross the street walking along the white strips of color on the paved road. You pull out your phone when you get to the other side of the cross walk, to see if Happy texted you yet. 

Happy:)

I’ll be there in ten.

Happy:)

Where do you want me to pick you up?

Y/n Stark

The bodega, want anything?

Happy:)

I'm good.

Y/n Stark

Cheetos it is! See you in a bit 🫡

You turn off your phone and put it in your pocket, stepping into the bodega. The man behind the counter's head shoots up when he hears the bell on the door ring.

“Hola, pequeño Sparky,” The man says. 

“Hola, Sr. López,” You grin and wave. When you first met, Sr. López, he told you that you look like Tony Stark's daughter. But he said spark not Stark, it stuck. You never correct him, and you never tell him you are actually Tony Stark's daughter, because you enjoy the name just as much as he does. 

“Can I get a bacon egg and cheese?” You ask and he smiles big.

“Ah of course, and cheetos for Sr. gruñón?” You nod and smile. “You know it, Sr. López”

You walk over to the shelf of chips and grab the bag of cheetos. When your order is done you pay and head outside, waving Sr. Lòpez goodbye.

“Que tenga una buena tarde, Sr. López.” You say stepping out of the bodega.

When you walk out you almost trip. You look down and notice your untied shoelace. You probably unintentionally stepped on it again. When you bend over to tie it you hear something. 

More like someone. Or multiple people. You hear someone whistle, and you stand and turn around abruptly.

And that’s when you see them. The three little pieces of shit that always bother you. They are always somehow there just when you don’t want them to be. Not that you ever did want them there. They are the weirdo dickheads who never leave you alone. Somehow they always pop up out of nowhere.

The blond short kid named Derek, whistles again. Logan the tallest one begins walking over to you. The other two follow. 

You quickly begin walking past them. And you get half a block before Otis the jet black haired guy grabs you by the arm and pulls you into a small alley. Derek and Logan gather around you whistling laughing. You struggle in Otis’s grip, you’re sure it will leave a big bruise.

“What the hell do you want?” You spit out and Logan tuts shaking his head. 

“Well look at you,” He breathes out as you get out of Otis’s tight hold. “How is a pretty thing like you still so available?” 

Derek chuckles and pushes your body against the brick alley wall with his hands. 

“I have no clue, but if you want to, baby, I'm open to anything” Derek growls out, and your face turns into disgust.

“Don’t make that face, it makes you look ugly.” Otis says with a scowl.

“I have to go.” You say quietly looking down to stop your shaky breathing.

“What was that hon’?” Logan asks, leaning his face close to yours. “Couldn’t quite hear you.” You know full well he can hear you, he's just being a dick.

You snap your head up with an angry expression, glaring daggers at the boys. “I have to go.” You state firmly. You watch as their faces turn into smiles, and they begin to laugh at you.

Then you hear a ding from your pocket. Surprisingly they let you grab your phone. You wonder why until Derek snatches the phone from your hands. You try to reach for it but Otis pushes you back against the wall.

“Give it to me,” You shout. They ignore you and look at the text. “Seems like she does have to go, boys,” Logan says, tossing your phone back with an annoyed look.

“It's a shame, I would have liked to tease you more.” Otis’s comment makes you mad. You look down at your lock screen to see a text from Happy.

Happy:) 

I'm here, where are you?

The boys move to make way for you. And as you walk past them you trip over Dereks, purposefully, outstretched foot. You stumble and don’t bother to look back, so you don’t have to see them cackling at you.

You quickly scurry out of the alley and towards Sr. López’s bodega. You see Happy in a black car across the street, he sees you and waves. Nodding back you cross the street.

You open the car door and slip in. You pull the Cheetos out from your bag and reach over the divider to hand them to him. He thanks you and pulls out from the parking spot.

“Where were you?” He asks, chewing on a cheeto. You shrug, rubbing your bruised arm. “Uhh, I was just walking around waiting for you.” Its a good enough lie to get him to drop the subject. The car ride from that point on is silent, uncharacteristic for you, but Happy doesn't comment as he continues driving and you eat your bacon egg and cheese.

——

You hate it.

Feeling helpless.

How could you not when you were raised by the Iron Man, and grew up around superheros, and just strong people. So, it makes your blood boil when you think about the way you let them treat you. You know how to speak up for others, but for some stupid reason your own brain is too scared to be able to defend you.

What makes you doubly angry when you walk into your house, is thinking about the way Flash and the other kids at your school treat Peter. “What makes them think they are so much better? They don’t even compare to Peter,” you think. Peter is smart and sweet and has the kindest soul of anyone you have ever come across, so it pisses you off how shitty people can be. If only you could fix both problems.

“What’s got you so grumpy?” Pepper asks as you walk past her to your room. Her voice breaks your train of thought. 

“Everything,” You grumble out. Pepper hums in understanding. Pepper, although she's not biologically you family, you consider her your mother. She's always there for you and she watched and helped you grow into the person you are.

“Anything I can help you with?”

“Not really. Unless you can magically make people stop being jerks.” She chuckles as your shoulders slouch.

“Well, when I'm dealing with Jerks, I tell them to stop or I’ll fire them. I usually try to hit two birds with one stone to get them out of my life faster. So fire the problem not just one person.” Pepper says, trying to help. You nod. And you catch the end of a conversation when your dad and Clint walk in.

“So, no, there will be no boyfriends or girlfriends for Y/n for a long time.” Clint chuckles at your dad.

Your brows scrunch before your head shoots up and your face breaks into a grin. Pepper who was watching you smiles, confused.

“You are a genius, dad!” You shout as you rush over to him to kiss him on the check. 

“I know,” Your dad looks surprised when he says it, but smiles anyway. 

“Thanks uncle Clint,” You hug Clint quickly and he tries to hug back but you pull away before he can.

Then you run back to your mom, wrapping her in a hug, before she can say anything, or pat you back, you run off.

“Thanks mom, got to go!” You yell back to her as you rush into your bedroom.

“What was that about?” Clint asks Pepper, and she shrugs.

“I say let’s be happy, she's happy.” Tony says as he continues to walk to his lab.

When you shut the door you throw your backpack on your bed. You begin pacing back and forth in thought.

“Peter needs a girlfriend. And I need someone who can keep those assholes away from me.” You drop the pacing for tapping your foot and rubbing your chin. Your face scrunches trying to think of a solution.

“It can’t possibly be this hard to come up with something… who’s a girl who’s single, and likes Peter, or can at least tolerate pretending to like him? Who’s someone who I can have, help me?”

Your tapping gets faster as your brain works harder. “How the hell can’t I think of anything? I’m the daughter of fucking Tony Stark for goodness sake. There has to be someone-“ You cut your thoughts off and your eyes go wide at your realization.

“No.” You think shaking You head. “That wouldn’t be acceptable. We’re friends not- not…that.”

“Oh shit.” You say aloud this time. “It’s the only solution that isn’t 100% insane.” You breath out a shaky sigh. “I have to ask Peter Parker to be my boyfriend.”

——

“This is 100% insane.” You think, gripping the pole in the rocking subway cart. “I know it’s insane, he’s gonna think it’s insane.”

You got Happy to let you head over to Peters to work on ‘a project’. You do have your homework with you, but you can’t focus on anything other than the crazy conclusion you have come to. So, no homework could get done without talking to Peter.

The subway cart is pretty full, because it just hit rush hour and there’s a woman who’s standing a little close to you. You step a couple inches towards the bar.

You keep going over what you are going to say to Peter in your head. You can’t come up with a coherent sentence that doesn’t sound like you are just flat out asking him out. Well you are doing that, “but- no- not in that way” You keep telling yourself. You just have to explain the situation to him, and he’ll understand. Right?

You also have to consider the fact that no one out of school can know about it. If your dad knew you were dating someone, you think he might just kill them. You heard what he said to Clint. But what he doesn't know can’t hurt him, at least while he doesn't know. You know what the consequences are if he finds out, but you are willing to do it, for you and for Peter. 

The train car pulls to a stop, and the doors open. You hear the automated voice ring through the train station as you set out of the train car. Piles of people rush in and out of the train. You dodge the hoards by swerving and slipping past them, out of habit. Living in New York, it's impulses to walk around slow people.

You climb the steps of the train station and out into the chilly air of Queens. You wrap your arms around your body, regretting the decision to ditch the jacket.

It takes a couple minutes to get to Peter and May's apartment, but once you travel up the elevator and your hand is inches from the door, all your previous courage drains from your body. You blink harshly to shake away the fear. Your heart is pounding and you can’t breathe properly. 

“Just do it already, what are you scared of? its Peter,” You know there is lots to be scared of but you won’t let your mind drift that way. 

You lift your hand to knock on the door, but it’s pulled open before you can make contact with the metal handle. You step back startled.

“Oh god, so sorry.” The woman in front of you says with a sigh. Your heart rate begins to slow when you hear her voice.

“No worries, Miss Parker.” You chuckle. She laughs out at your words.

“Oh please, I'm not that old Y/n, just call me May, like everyone else.” She smiles politely at you.

“I'm not everyone else.” You smile back. She shakes her head with a grin. “No you are not,”

“Well, I have to go pick something up from the store, help yourself,” she gestures inside, “Peters in his room, most likely building a lego set.” She pauses, “Or looking up ones he wants.”

You laugh and nod, waving goodbye and walking in. You take your shoes off and shut the door. You’re kind of glad May forgot to ask what you are doing here, that makes this easier at least.

You huff out looking out at the tiddy cozy apartment. You have always loved it here. It is so homey and welcoming, and it always makes you feel a little more at ease. And now is no exception.

You slip off your shoes and as you walk by the coach you put your bag down to rest.

“Peter?” You ask as you walk closer to Peter's ajar door. You see the back of his head turned down, looking at some papers on his desk. You can see the white wire of his head phones sticking out from under his chocolate brown hair.

You push the door slightly and slip through. You walk closer to him, trying to keep your heart from picking up its fast pace again. You call out to him again, and this time place a hand on his shoulder.

Peter jumps up out of his chair, trying to look intimidating in a fighting pose. But the intimidation doesn't last long because he slips on a sweatshirt on the ground and falls.

You erupt into a fit of laughter. Peters just looks startled, but when his brain finally acknowledges the situation, his eyes go wide in relief. When he gets up and you are still laughing, struggling to breathe, his cheeks go pink in embarrassment.

“It's not that funny,” he mumbles out. This only gets you laughing again. He tries to hide his smile by stuffing his face in his hands.

“Ok, ok, sorry.” You chuckle trying to slow your breathing and calm down.

“You just jumped so high and then slipped on nothing.” You say rubbing your face with a grin.

“It wasn’t nothing.” He says kicking the sweatshirt on the ground further away from him and then walks to the door.

“Mhh,” you hum in amusement following behind him.

“What are you doing here anyway?” He asks as he leads you to sit in the living room with him.

“Well,” You sigh, still a little breathless from laughing. You pause, try to create a coherent sentence that won’t make Peter run and hide. You sit in the meantime and Peter sits down next to you.

“I need to talk to you.” Your face gets more serious and it worries him. “Why? Did something happen?” He asks as his brows furrow in concern.

“No, no, no, nothing happened. Or, no. More like I want to stop something from happening again.” You realize the sentence makes the situation sound different then what it is.

“Did I do something?” Peter asks his brows furrowing further.

“No. No never. It’s just,” you trail off, and before you can pull yourself together to spit it out he cuts you off.

“Did someone else do something? Can I help?” Peter's head tilts and his lips form a frown listening attentively.

“No,” you stutter out. “Just listen to me for a second Pete.” He nods with a quick apology. Then his full attention is on you. His eyes unwavering staring into yours. Suddenly you can’t breathe, but you try to speak either way.

“You know how you get-“ you pause to rephrase. “How Flash is a dick towards you?” Peter nods slowly waiting for you to continue. You hadn’t told him about the guys bothering you, and want to keep it that way.

“And how, today he made fun of you for not having a girlfriend?” Peter nods, getting wary.

“Well, I mean-“ you stutter over your words “if you want, and feel, you know, comfortable or whatever,” you swallow the lump in your throat. He nods again, smiling softly to try and ease the tension in your shoulders and urging you on. You squeeze your eyes shut and blurt it out.

“I could pretend to be your girlfriend at school and stuff,”

When you peak an eye open, you see Peter's shoulders slumped and his eyes wide. In utter disbelief.

“Then no one would ever give you a hard time,” You quickly explain so your point doesn’t come across wrong.

You wait for Peter to say something. You wait for him to tell you no, or to say yes. You wait for him to say anything at all. But he’s radio silent.

Worry begins to creep up your spine. The pit in your stomach grows inch by inch every second he’s quiet. What if this is the wrong conclusion? What if you stepped too far? What have you done?

Fuck. You shouldn't have come. You shouldn’t have been stupid enough to think this was a good idea.

But out of nowhere, as if he just realizes that he’s the person you’re talking to, he speaks up.

“You would- do that for me?” He asks as his eyes grow soft and his eyebrows raise hopefully.

“Well, I mean, sure.” You nervously chuckle out. Rubbing the back of your neck with your palm.

“And anyways, you’d keep the creepy guys away from me.” You note as Peter seems to step back taking everything you’ve said in. What if he starts laughing? What if he is messing with you? He wouldn’t do that, right?

“I- I-“ you hold your breath as he begins talking, the pit in your stomach makes you feel like you might throw up. If he doesn’t hurry up you’re sure you’ll apologize profusely and run out of the apartment before he can say anything.

“I would love-“ Peter smiles “to be your boyfriend Y/n.” 

Oh.

You let out a shaky breath. It worked. You don’t believe it. He said yes.

“Really?” You ask, a small quizzical smile on your face.

“Yeah.” He says grinning wide. 

Well shit. It worked.

Tag List:

@riordanness

@princess-ofthe-pages

#peter parker #x reader #mcu peter x reader #mcu #peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #mcu peter parker

[cockdestroyer32]

it's rotten work.

peter b. parker x fem!reader

word count: 2615

summary: Peter's been a wreck after his divorce with MJ. Thankfully, you're there to look after him.

aka me just fantasizing about taking care of peter b. parker when he needed it and giving him the love he so very deserves.

a/n: yeah I write abt this loser now

Two months. That’s how long it’s been since Peter and MJ’s divorce. Two months of countless pizza orders and late-night fast food trips. You tried your best, of course, most days making lunch and dinner for Peter, but it still wouldn’t help his insurmountable need to shove oily fries drenched in high amounts of salt down his throat. Though he would gladly take them. His hand finding yours on the table, giving you a knowing look with his sad, tired eyes that you’d gotten used to seeing so damn often on him. His own way of a thank you. Two months of coming home to Peter’s place to find him sprawled out on his couch, his head lying on his own arm and still wearing shoes. The TV would be on playing the most random channel. He’d be staring at it, but if you turned it off he wouldn’t even blink. Two months of trying your best to be there for him.

You were still getting used to the new apartment. For as long as you could remember, Peter and MJ lived in the same house for the past 15 years. You’d gotten used to it. It was nice. Two stories, wooden floors, big dining room. They’d have Thanksgivings there, it was almost a tradition. The turkey was served and everyone gathered around, talking and laughing about nothing. Peter was happy then, at least most of the time.

This apartment was none of that. It was way smaller, one small cube covering kitchen, living room and bedroom, with a room to the left including the tiny bathroom- which has a bathtub? You never quite understood that, what is it with Americans and putting bathtubs in their already tiny bathrooms?- not to mention it was unkept. The dishes practically overflowing, two pizza boxes, one awkwardly thrown to the counter, not even closed, its gaping mouth allowing you to spy the damp spots the hot pizza left on the cardboard box, and the other shoved inside the trash, which was also nearly overflowing. A barely-eaten cereal bowl rested on the sad excuse of a dining table, some colorful circles creeping out of the white liquid. It was more milk than cereal. And both ingredients also stood there, not put back on their respective places. 

Peter does not have enough money to just waste perfectly good milk. 

You grab the carton and open the refrigerator, the light illuminating the kitchen/living room/bedroom area. God, even the refrigerator was sad. An already open can of soda standing lonely to the side, feeling unsafe on the grids of the shelf, a container of cheese at the top, four eggs to the side, and untouched lettuce to the middle. You place the milk inside, now making company to the lonely soda, and shut the refrigerator door, making your way back to the couch. As you do you pass by the wall of the apartment that includes Peter’s attempt at decorating, one only possible after much pleading by you that the place might feel more like home if he did so. 

They were pictures. Pictures on the wall. Four to be specific. All taped to the wall with double-sided tape. They were all scattered like corn and asymmetrical. How and why did he manage to do that? You don’t know. Was it awful? Yes. 

But you were still excited when you’d shown up to his place and found them there. 

This was only a fraction of the pictures he had back in his place with MJ. Their old living room had once been full of pictures of them and the memories they made together. But these were the ones he took and remained. The middle picture was one of you and Peter, back when you traveled to Barbados. You stood behind him, hugging him with one arm from behind, your chin resting on his shoulder as you both smiled at the camera. The one to the side was a picture he took of you on your birthday, you wore one of those birthday headbands, a huge smile spreading across your face as you saw one of your other friends bringing you your cake. It was slightly blurry, not one you’d usually have on your wall but beautiful regardless. When you’d seen that picture, your finger reached out to touch it, surprised it was there, and you turned around to look at Peter, who refused to look at you, clearly embarrassed. The third one is a picture of May, 2 years before she died, her grey hair perfectly framing her smiling face, and the fourth one of Peter and May, sitting on her couch, his arm wrapped around her shoulder and his head on hers.

Peter sits on the couch, his ankles extended out, looking like he wanted to trip someone. He wore the same grey sweatpants he always wore, and his sweatshirt was stained. The bags under his eyes were prominent, and his eyebrows were furrowed. His gaze was fixated on the TV, but he actually seemed to be paying attention this time, so that’s progress…right?

You threw your body on the couch beside his, letting out a sigh and looking at the screen. He was watching a documentary on…pandas? You don’t comment on it. Or on his stained shirt. Or on the cereal bowl. Or on the milk. You just stare at the TV.

“I’m fine,” He says, his voice raspy.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to.”

You don’t reply. He’s used to you asking the same question, and you’re used to hearing the same answer. You both know he’s not fine, that he hasn’t been fine in a while, but that there’s not much you can do but let time pass, to let the wound heal as best as it can, leaving only a scar, that at least won’t sting as much anymore. You know Peter. You’ve known him for years. You know his moods, you know what makes him laugh, what makes him angry, his mannerisms and what they mean, his favorite foods, his favorite flavor of cake…you know when he needs love. 

Except for on days like this. On days where he’s grumpy and barely speaks at all. Days where his arms are crossed and he’s always tapping his foot. Sometimes he just wants to be left alone, sometimes he wants as much physical affection as possible. You don’t know. 

So, you leave a hint.

You place your hand next to his on the couch- they have always been so rough, so calloused, yet always felt nice- and you lift your pinky, it grazing across the back of his hand. Up, and down. You do that once before stopping it at the bottom of his hand, just next to his pinky. If he wants to take it, he can take it, if not, he doesn’t have do anything. 

You feel the back of his hand being taken away from the tip of your finger, before his palm finds yours and he entwines your fingers together, giving your hand a light squeeze. Yours is smaller than his, and certainly softer. You don’t look at each other, you don’t have to. You keep your eyes on the panda eating bamboo and feel his thumb caress the side of your hand. 

If that wasn’t clear, it’s been a rough two months. And you’ve been there for rough months. You were there for when Peter and MJ would have tough arguments, for when being Spider-Man started being just a little too much for him, for when he couldn’t save everyone, for when Aunt May died. But this? This was bad. Almost as much as May’s death. He just…fell into a hole. And you don’t blame him either. He’d been married to Mary Jane for fifteen years. Fifteen years. Having to separate from someone you spent more than a decade with must be one of the hardest things ever, and you couldn’t exactly say you understood.

It wasn’t all bad though. One time, you decided to watch a movie together. You let Peter choose the movie. Horror. You were never quite used to it, but were you gonna say no to him? No, and he knew it. About 40 minutes in, there was a scene where the main character was inspecting his house after having heard a strange noise. He walks around for a while, letting the tension build until suddenly the monster rises behind him. It’d been about 11pm at that point and you let out a loud yelp, followed by your hand slapping over your mouth as you realize what you did. You did a slow turn towards Peter, finding his eyebrows raised and his mouth slightly agape, before he burst out into laughter. The sound rang through your ears like your favorite song. God, it’d been so long since you heard that laugh. If you knew it’d happen you’d grabbed your phone and started recording it immediately. But at that point it’d been enough, and you couldn’t help but start laughing too.

Now, you feel Peter’s grip slowly loosening on yours and you turn your head towards him. His eyes are closed, and his eyebrows are more relaxed now, though he’s not asleep just yet. From this angle you could perfectly see his roman nose, the bridge sticking out in all of its wonder, and the little bend to the side, where he’d broken it so many times his healing factors had just given up. He hated it. You always loved it, and he knew it. You leaned in slightly.

“Pete…” You whisper, “Pete, let’s get you to bed.”

He murmured some nonsense. A chuckle leaves your lips and you reach for his arm.

“Pete, if you wanna sleep we gotta get you to bed, come on.”

“O…kay…” You get up from the couch and place both hands on his arms, motioning for him to get up. When he does he rests his head on yours, and you drape your arm over his shoulder, leading him to his bed. He drops his body on it and oh he looks adorable. His arms curved in front of him almost in a praying motion, and his knees slightly bent. You notice his shoes are still on and reach to take them off, he doesn’t even move as you do so, and you set them down neatly on the floor. You know what’s next, you’ve gotten used to it: you crawl on the bed beside him, and wrap an arm around him from behind, the other creeping from under his body so you can hug him properly. You bury your face on his shoulder and squeeze him tight, your legs lying just behind his. 

Peter likes being the little spoon. You wonder if he’s always been like this or if it was born out of an extreme need to receive the physical affection he lost after his divorce. Those thoughts are quickly brushed off but everlasting, you probably shouldn’t be thinking about that. This happens every night now, to the point Peter doesn’t sleep without you anymore. If you take too long to crawl into bed, he tells you in a groggy voice, “Come hereeeee…”

One time you got up in the middle of the night to drink some water, and in comes Peter, wearing his grey pajama shirt, rubbing his eyes as he sleepily asks you, “Why'd you go?”

The first time you fell asleep cuddled together was a little over a month ago. Peter’d been quiet that entire day and you left him alone, figuring he just wanted time for his thoughts, until eventually you lifted a gentle hand, resting it against his shoulder as you asked, “You alright? Wanna talk?” And a few minutes later you found yourself holding a sobbing Peter, his hands desperately clutching to your back as you rubbed his, his face pressed against your chest as his own heaved. Wet trailings ran down your body and made your shirt damp, trailings that’d grow salty and sticky on your skin, but that’d you pay no attention to. 

You don’t even know how long that lasted, you just held him for as long as he needed, until his weeping subsided and the sobs were replaced only by the shuddering breaths one gets after crying so desperately. Then even those went away, Peter’s breath completely evened out and calm. You noticed he was heavier in your arms, and whispered his name as you leaned your head down, looking for his face, only to be met with one of a sleeping Peter. His lashes were wet and eyes were shut and relaxed, as if he hadn’t just had a full breakdown in your arms. You stayed like this for a moment, wondering if he’d wake up, and knowing you didn’t have the heart to do it. Eventually you leaned back on the couch, your back resting against it as your head was placed awkwardly on its stiff arm. He slid down on your body a bit as you did, his face now at your stomach, and he tightened his grip and pressed his nose into your skin. You still don’t know if he remembered he did that.

And now Peter has you climbing into bed beside him every night, trying your best to envelop his body with yours even though your frame is much tinier.

You turn your head to him as you feel him shift and take a breath.

“I wanna…be big spoon…” You can barely make out the words due to his raspy mumbling, and before you could even process them, Peter was turning around and grabbing your arm, flipping you on your side as he wrapped his arms tightly around you. Tight as if to ensure you wouldn’t try to escape his grip.

Woah. Is this what MJ felt every night when she was with Peter? Again, probably not something you should be thinking about, but still. This? This comfortable? 

If you were MJ you would have never given up on this. Ever. No matter what.

God, he’s strong. I mean, you knew he was strong, he’s Spider-Man for crying out loud. But you’d never thought about how that came into play in moments like this, where he could wrap his arms around you with such a firm yet tender grip that it felt like absolutely nothing could tear you two apart.

Though you were still quite a bit frozen. Peter had never done that before. This was new and sudden. And slowly you could feel that information seep back into Peter’s presumably more awake mind as well, with the way he turned his head slowly to the left, and his body straightened and stiffened on your back.

“Uhh, is this okay?” He asked.

“Yeah, it’s alright,” You replied. He was probably awake right now, mortified by his own actions but too comfortable and scared to pull away. And so were you. So you placed your hand on his arm, and gently ran it back and forth, telling him you really were okay with this, and if anything you wanted him to keep it up. His body remained frozen for at least 3 seconds until he lifted his arm from under your hand, and placed his palm over it, enlacing your fingers together. He pressed your arm in the front of your body and buried his nose in your neck. It sent a few shivers down your spine, you won’t lie. But you just took a deep breath and toughed it out, closing your eyes as well and relaxing. His breath on your neck slowly lulled you to sleep.

Hopefully, this is your new night routine.

#peter b parker #peter b. parker #peter b parker x reader #peter b parker x you #peter b parker x y/n #into the spider verse #across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderman #spider man into the spider verse #spider man itsv fic #spider man x reader

[maple-the-awesome]

It's Over? ||

Pairing: (any) Peter Parker x Reader

Words: 3,728

Overview: (Loosely based on this) After overhearing your conversation on the phone, Peter begins to worry about the status of your relationship and a miscommunication over text only makes matters worse.

Marvel Masterlist 🖤 Fandom Masterlist 🖤 Requests

Peter Parker's such a terrible boyfriend.

...Okay, so maybe you've never said that to his face, but he's convinced it's true and he's also certain you agree. He's been a massive idiot lately which is a realization that makes him sick with worry and rotten with guilt.

Peter feels no hesitation with his feelings towards you and has always put effort into proving it: he gets you hand picked flowers collected during his patrols, writes loving messages for you with webs outside your window, and even texts you pictures of sunsets from the best views in New York, wishing you could be there in person with him because he absolutely treasures you, counting himself lucky every single day solely because of the fact that he can call himself your boyfriend.

Unfortunately, he fears that the title might change here soon because no matter how boundless his love is for you, he's done a real shitty job of showing it - at least in the ways that really count the most.

Originally, Peter didn't notice the flaws to your relationship and even when he did, he foolishly brushed them off. Once your smile began to fade little by little each time he returned home wounded, he reminded you that you don't need to stay up waiting for him every night and can go to sleep earlier if you're just going to be tired and annoyed with him when he gets home. He didn't mean to word it so harshly. He was worn out himself and didn't take the time to consider that you wait all night because you're worried about him.

Your complaints about him returning from work without getting any groceries would simply be met with new promises to do so after patrol. If there was no food in the fridge for dinner, then he suggested ordering take out. As a man who could easily survive months on Top Ramen alone, he didn't think you'd mind Chinese food two days in a row.

Even when you'd beg him to stay home for a date night because you haven't had one in weeks, he'd push you away, insisting he needs to protect New York without once stopping to wonder how his priorities might translate in your mind: 'I need to protect a city of strangers as I do every single night, so no, I can't spare a few hours for my girlfriend'.

Throughout every sigh to part your lips, Peter turned a blind eye to it all. Sure, the two of you argue, but all couples do, right? He still loves you and you love him, it's just...a little rough dating a superhero is all, however you'll both get through it together, he was so sure - and that's the key word: Peter 'was' sure, but after your fight today and the self-reflection he's done since, he's not too confident anymore.

It seemed so minuscule this morning. He was eating a bowl of cereal when he heard you huff from the other room. Upon investigating, he found you holding a red and blue shirt in hand, frustration written all over your face. It was your favorite shirt and it definitely wasn't supposed to be that color. Of course, the reason for its unplanned dye job wasn't difficult to guess.

Peter apologized while explaining he was really tired the night before and must've thrown his suit into the wash without checking the other items first; an "honest mistake" he called it with a shrug. Once again, you huffed, throwing the shirt back into the hamper in clear defeat which only made him press further about your suddenly foul mood. From there, the situation only escalated into raised voices ending in you slamming the door directly in his face when he tried to follow you into the bedroom.

Looking back on it now, Peter realizes his apology came off as halfhearted as he merely continued to stuff another spoonful of cereal in his mouth in between sentences and he probably should've stayed at that locked door to give you a proper apology, yet regrettable that's not how it played out. Instead, he purposely sighed as loudly as he could, asking why you "act so bitchy anymore" before stomping off...Not the greatest way to resolve an argument.

Unfortunately, Peter can't say that was the first fight he's merely walked away from with you. You would think Spiderman would know better, but alas, he's an idiot. In his own immature mind, he didn't see anything wrong or unhealthy with this strategy of simply dropping 'unfavorable conversations', after all, it seemed he had a fifty-fifty chance of you either getting angrier or never bringing the topic up again, the latter of which has been occurring more frequently lately. It wasn't until this morning that he realized just because you don't bring it up again, doesn't mean it isn't still hurting you.

When Peter went back up to the bedroom door, prepared to tell you he'd be leaving for work soon, he heart shattered upon hearing your silent sobs from inside. You were crying because of him. Your tears have always been his weakness, but it was in that moment that he learned there's something else that can deal even more damage to his sorrow and that's the broken words you sniffled to presumably MJ on the phone:

"I-I just can't do this anymore! It doesn't matter what I do! I've tried to not be clingy. I've tried to give him space and let him do his thing, but he never comes back to me! I don't even remember the last time we've gone on a date. It's always New York this, Daily Bugle that. Hell, he volunteered to work a few extra hours the other day yet can't be bothered to stay home just to eat dinner at the table with me! It's like I'm last to everything else in his life even when I put him first in mine!"

The thought of your relationship ending turns Peter's nerves to mush. How could he be so stupid? So ignorant? Such an asshole when he has the perfect girlfriend who has kept putting up with his bullshit for all this time? You don't ask for much in return; you never have. You ask him to help with small chores in your shared apartment. You request that he texts you regularly throughout the night not because you need attention, but because you need to know he's safe. You want date nights every once in a blue moon because he's your boyfriend, goddammit! What's the point of saying you're dating if he feels more like a lazy roommate than an equal lover?

You're slipping right through his fingers and he has no one to blame except himself. He knows that now and he's been spending the entire day thinking about it along with some way to apologize properly.

Part of him wishes he would've just pulled himself together and done something right then, bursting into the room with the promise that he can change - that he will change. Hell, he'd burn his suit in front of you if it means you'll give him another chance - if you'll believe for a second that the relationship is worth saving...But alas, he couldn't bring himself to interrupted your call, feeling it would only betray your trust if you knew he had been listening to a private conversation.

Instead, Peter sat like a statue on the couch, waiting not so patiently for you to leave the room on your own accord. When you did, he leaped up only for you to walk directly past him while sternly reminding him you have work. Of course you had work and, no matter how far he followed you through the apartment, begging you to listen to him for even just a minute, you wouldn't so much as glance his way...The karma he deserves.

While you may not have given him any time to explain himself this morning, hope is not completely lost. Shortly after your departure, Peter came to the realization that his nerves will last all day if he doesn't do something about your earlier argument, thus he decided to text you:

Your final text hadn't come until ten minutes after his, but at least he has a chance to plead his case which he doesn't plan on letting go to waste. He's practiced his apology about a hundred times each hour, engraving the thought-out speech in the deepest corners of his mind despite none of it sounding quite right. Of course none of it sounds right! You sounded so convinced on your phone call - like your mind is already made up on ending the relationship. What if you can't be swayed? What if you don't love him anymore? It did take you ten minutes to text those words back. Maybe you weren't even wanting to say them to spare you both the extra pain at noon.

It may seem hopeless, as Peter worries, however he refuses to give up. Too tense at home, he took to swinging around New York while sometimes reciting his speech aloud. He's tried his best to predict any possible response you may have so that a counter argument can be prepared. He wants to show you that he means this - that he's confident in his ability to fix your crumbling relationship. He's even picked up a nice bouquet of flowers at the corner store, ignoring the weird looks the florists gave as Spiderman dropped from the sky just to nervously request the best flowers to avoid a break up.

Needless to say, Peter's heart nearly jumps out of his chest when his phone alarm finally rings at noon. By this time, he's already sitting on the rooftop of your workplace, waiting nervously for your call while reviewing everything he's prepared in the meantime.

Bad boyfriend or not, Peter still knows you. He knows you find the break room too crowded, so you prefer to grab your lunch and take it back to your desk to eat. That's when you'll likely call him. The plan is then for him to pour his heart out into his speech before hanging upside down outside your office window with the flowers. Sappy, yes, but it's the best a desperate wreck like Peter Parker can think of!

His focus is glued to his phone screen while waiting, only shattered by the sound of sirens nearby. Lifting his head, Peter's heart drops at the sight of several cop cars racing down the street to a location he's learned all too well throughout his time as Spiderman: the damn bank. Of course, someone has to rob the bank now! Crime has been quiet all day, but the one time Peter needs it to be so, it decides to be blaring loud instead!

He curses under his breath when standing only for his ringer to be the new sound in his ears. You're calling now! You're calling and there's a bank robbery a few blocks down! Why does the universe hate Peter like this?

"Hello -"

"- Hey, (Y/n)...Sweetheart - Listen, I'm, um," he bites his lip, watching a few more cop cars zoom by in the company of a firetruck," I am so sorry, but I'm gonna have to call you back, okay? There's a robbery at the bank and I -...I promise I'm going to call you back before your break is over. I promise."

You don't respond too quickly much to Peter's concern - as if you already know to start weighing the worth of his promises. When you finally sigh, you sound just as tired as this morning, "...Sure, alright. Just...be safe, Peter, okay?"

"I know, I will be! I promise I'm going to call you right back so just hold tight!" Swinging into the air, Peter holds the phone to his ear with his shoulder, soon removing it with his hand but pausing to say before hanging up: "Have a good lunch, I love you!"

"...I love you, too..." Another delayed response, one Peter barely hears before pressing the little red button on the bottom of his screen.

He's dealt with lots of bank robberies before. He can make this quick. Swing in, keep the sass to a minimum, web up the badies, save the hostages, and return your call with plenty of time remaining for your break. It'll definitely work out that way, no sweat!

It didn't work out that way...No, of course it didn't, this is the life of Peter Parker; a man the universe just seems to hate most of the time. Forty two minutes; that's how long it took to deal with the whole fiasco at the bank. The robbers were armed with homemade weapons each packing a punch which are already annoying to deal with on their own, but sided with the worry of hostages and his already stressful day, the fight wasn't as easy as Spiderman had planned.

Nevertheless, no matter what the universe decides to throw his way, he has gotten good at recovering. Yet again, the bad guys were defeated and left webbed up for the police, however Spiderman had no time to deliver a clever pun before his exit. Instead, he disappears the second the threat is gone, his phone already in hand as he prepares to face another:

"Shit, shit, shit!" Peter curses, pacing across the rooftop he lands on while frantically texting you back:

Swinging a bit further, Peter begins his way towards your work with his phone balanced against his ear. He mumbles desperate pleas under his breath as he listens to the seemingly endless ringing before, to his relief, your voice finally picks up on the other side:

"Yeah?"

"Oh thank god! I didn't mean it's over as in 'I'm over with you and our relationship', but over as in 'I got the robbers'. I'd never break up with you especially over text, I swear - Listen, I really need to talk to you, but in person. Are you still at work?"

"Whatever it is, can't you just tell me now? I have that meeting in like ten minutes."

"No, I need to tell you in person. I need - I have to make sure that we're okay...I want us to be okay..." He's nearly in tears which is obvious to you by the sound of his voice.

"What are you talking about?"

"I really don't want you to break up with me. I know I've been a terrible boyfriend lately and I know I've made you feel like shit so I probably deserve to be dumped, but I swear I never meant to and I want to fix everything - I will fix everything, I swear! You're the most important person in my life - okay, maybe second to May because she's my aunt, but compared to everyone else! I love you more than Spiderman or the Daily Bugle or - or even those super good sandwiches at the corner deli!"

"Peter -"

"- My point is I can do so much better! I'll start doing all the chores, I'll take more days off from the Daily Bugle and I'll even stop being Spiderman if it means you'll be happy with me, I promise! Just please give me one more chance -!"

"- Peter, hold on!" He instantly shuts his mouth under the strictness in your voice. You hesitate on the other end before a sigh can be heard, "...How quickly can you be here?"

"Give me two minutes tops!"

"...Alright. Meet me on the rooftop - and don't be late. My manager's already an asshole as it is, so I can't be late to this meeting."

The sound of Peter landing on the roof causes you to turn around, yet you have no time to say anything before he's running towards you with his mask already crinkled in his hand as well as a few measly roses with broken stems in the other, "(Y/n), I’m sorry. I promise I’m sorry.”

“Peter, your face…” Perhaps it’s just instincts and routine at this point, but the first thing you notice is the nasty bruise already forming under his eye, not that he’s the slightest bit concerned about that, in fact he doesn’t even acknowledge your comment.

“Please give me another chance. I’ll fix everything!” When Peter officially reaches your side, he moves to hug you - desperately wanting to do so, however he stops himself with his hands on your arms, having no more confidence to push his luck. You could shove him away at any moment, after all, “Like I said, I’ll do the chores, I’ll go on as many dates as you want, and I’ll stop being Spiderman even -”

“- You wouldn’t stop being Spiderman. You’d never stop being Spiderman,” contrary to his expectations, rather than being angry, you run a hand through his hair, your voice a soft whisper, “You love being Spiderman too much, Peter.”

He bites his lip and bows his head in shame. You’re right. He doesn’t want to stop being Spiderman, but…

“...But I love you more…”

“...Peter,” your heart swoons. Brushing his bangs away from his face, you tilt your head to get a good look at him, “I know you love me and I love you, too. That’s why I could never ask you to give up something as important to you as Spiderman.”

“I thought…” He trails off.

“You thought what?”

He glances at you quickly before directing his eyes away, “...I thought you were mad at me because of Spiderman? Because I spend too much time working - that’s why you want to break up with me, right?”

You blink in surprise, “Huh? Why would you think I want to break up with you?”

“I accidentally overheard you talking on the phone,” now it’s your turn to look away in shame, “You said you couldn’t do this anymore…That you were pretty much fed up with me which you have every right to be. I’ve been a terrible boyfriend lately -”

“- You’re not a terrible boyfriend -”

“- I am, though!” Peter cries, “It’s like you said! I leave you second to everything else - I don’t mean to, but I made you feel like you’re not as important to me when you really are. You’ve always been important to me, yet I’ve been ignoring your feelings and I pushed you to the ledge -”

“- Peter Parker,” you move your hands to his cheeks, moving him gently to look at you as you speak quietly yet sternly, “...You’re right. You haven’t been the most ‘attentive’ lately and yes, it really hurts to be tossed aside compared to everything else. I know deep down that you don’t mean it and I know you love me. I love you too - sooo much which is why I really don’t want to break up…It’s just…Something needs to change.

“That call you heard - I was only ranting if anything because honestly, I haven’t felt like I’ve had anyone to talk to lately,” you squeeze your eyes shut, blinking back the tears, “I’ve been so worn out with it all. Work’s been crazy lately with my manager constantly up my ass for reports and then when I go home wanting nothing more than to spend time with the one person who makes all that stress go away, you aren’t there. I’ve…I can’t keep that up.

“...What’s important right now is that we both realize that. I don’t want you to give up being Spiderman, but you could take a night off once in a while, right? There’s like a zillion superheroes in this city, after all. Make the Avengers handle it or - I don’t know, that devil dude. Take a break not just for my sake, but yours, too” you let your hands fall down to Peter’s, holding onto them with a sigh, “...You’re not the only one who needs to change, though. This is partly my fault, too -”

“- It isn’t your fault. Why would it be your fault?” Peter interrupts with concern, yet you shake your head.

“I should’ve communicated to you that I was upset. I should’ve made sure you actually understood how I was feeling instead of just assuming or expecting it. Clearly, you care about us as much as I do and you want to make fixes now that you’re aware of the problems. If I just would’ve said something sooner, it wouldn’t have had to get to this point. It isn’t fair for either of us to suffer without the other’s knowledge nor is it healthy. We shouldn’t have to get pushed to the ledge or worry about a break up before ever once sitting down to actually talk about our concerns like grown ups…That’s what we’re supposed to be now, right?”

“I think so, although it’s not that easy, is it?” Peter mumbles then throws his head back dramatically with a groan, “Ah, May and Ben made it look sooo easy!’

You chuckle, resting your forehead against him, “I’m sure they had moments like this…We just have to learn, is all.”

For what feels like the first time today, Peter smiles and breathes his relief, “How about this: I’ll promise to start spending more time with you and doing more chores around the apartment if you promise to start telling me when you’re upset. Even if it’s something that seems totally stupid, okay? I won’t walk away anymore. I’ll sit and listen and if I don’t, you have my permission to call May on me.”

“It’s a promise,” you press your smile against his for what you intend to be a quick peck, however his arms finally wrap around your waist, pulling you closer into a longer kiss he’s been dying for all day.

“I love you,” he whispers once pulling away.

“I love you, too,” and there’s no hesitation or delay to your response this time.

#spiderman x y/n #spiderman x reader #spiderman #the amazing spider man #x reader #reader insert #peter parker x reader #peter+parker+x+reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker #tobey maguire #andrew garfield #tom holland #mcu spiderman #sam raimi #marvel x reader #marvel one shot

[jackfrombaskinrobbins]

baking contest w/ the avengers!!

type of writing: headcanons / scenario

word count: 1k

request: yes / no

original request: OMG CAN U PLS DO THE AVENGERS IF THEY HAD LIKE A COOKING OR BAKING CONTEST?

dynamic: avengers x teen!reader (teenage avenger series)

characters: reader, scott lang, nick fury, clint barton, harley keener, peter parker, miles morales, tony stark, pietro maximoff etc

a/n: HECK YEAH I CAN!!!! i loved this idea sm i was so excited to get this request :D i'm getting back into writing so sorry if it's a lil bad lol. also guys i'm gonna open requests again so feel free to submit!! i have a lot of muse for spiderverse stuff atm hehe so i may post again today!! tysm, hope u enjoy!!!

taglist: @shefollowedthestars @thecloudedmind @ayohitmanddaeng

(fill out this form to be on my taglist!)

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so there’s this thing that the avengers do

in order to do team bonding

they’ll assign partners in the beginning of the year

& each month, a new set of partners will choose something to do

and it’s always super fun

like that’s how u ended up at the trampoline park last month

& how scott ended up with a broken arm rip king

so this month had to be something a little less dangerous

kinda funny when u think about it like it’s literally the avengers they’re in dangerous situations all the time

and while you wanted to do something different, certain ~forces~ kept preventing that

like y’all were watching a movie a couple weeks ago

and fury came on the screen 

how he could hack into it idk hes nick fury dude he can do anything

but he just looked at the camera and said “no more dumbass trampoline parks”

HAH

so yeah it had to be something tame 

anyway so this month was you and scott!!!!

best duo ever!!!!!!

so you had to plan what to do

& scott refused to go skydiving bc that was your first choice

smh scott it would be so fun!!!!

his arm was still broken & he said that was why he wouldn’t go but like…. scott we know ur a scaredy-cat

anyway you were trying to decide when suddenly he was like

“y/n!!!! i totally forgot! the great british baking show just premiered and i promised clint we could watch it together!”

and that gave you an idea

scott LOVED it

but y’all needed a couple things before 

first of all, u needed baking supplies

when i say baking supplies i mean BAKING SUPPLIES

there’s like a thousand avengers at this point bruh :’)

scott almost got one of those instacart orders for it but u hated the thought of an instacart person getting ur crazy order

so it was store time :D 

let’s just say tony’s credit card was used very well that day 😛

then it was time to pick teams

not everyone had to participate

wanda said she wanted in

so pietro joined too which was slightly concerning

the man literally burnt a bowl of cereal once

and ur probably thinking “how—”

EXACTLY

only you and harley saw it and honestly it rendered u both speechless

tony joined too

but you and scott made sure he knew that there could be NO robots 

vision asked to be a judge

scott said “vis, we really appreciate that but… uh… don’t you like not eat?”

“ah! you are correct, scott. i do not consume food in the traditional way. however, given my vast knowledge & global database, i do believe that i would be a very good judge of presentation and overall ingredient chemistry.”

“alright, you do that buddy!”

also off topic but why do i just know that tony would give vision the nickname “chat gpt”

 sorry i had to get that out ANYWAYY

you got a few more people to participate 

sam and bucky wanted to be a team, and harley peter & miles wanted to be a team too

yknow what that was fine by you

so the day came.

you had turned one of the empty conference rooms into a crazy kitchen setup

thx party city for the confetti & balloons!!! ;)

in came your loyal hosts, scott & clint

(clint begged you and scott to let him host, he kept using a british accent until you said yes & just trust me it was good that he finally stopped)

you, natasha, and vision were the taste & presentation judges

you surveyed scott’s & your work, pretty proud of how it turned out

“ALRIGHTY THEN, READY, SET, OFF THE BLIMEY!!”

vision shot you a quizzical look, but you just shook your head.

scott & clint rly were a…. hosting duo

yep, the most… hosting duo of all time

the hostiest hosters to ever host

omg the funniest thing was that they kept eating the cookie dough from harley peter & miles’ station

they literally had to push them away

peter & miles webbed their hands shut HAHA

everyone else seemed to be doing pretty well though

aside from their usual arguing, bucky & sam seemed to actually be making something good

wanda was perfect as per usual

and pietro was zipping around the kitchen, causing tony’s flour to rise up in his face

steve came over, blowing a whistle and pointed at pietro

you and scott had enlisted him to be the referee

yes, cooking shows don’t normally have referees, but think abt the ppl we’re dealing with here 😀

anyways finally time was up!!!

but you and scott still had a trick up your sleeves.

“and now presenting our special guest judge… GIVE IT UP FOR NICK FURY!!”

yes that’s right, he had said yes to this

after you promised to finish a mission report for him

and bought him some new eyepatches

which was why he was wearing a navy blue one complete with rhinestones

pietro was up first, and he placed four slices of chocolate cake in front of all the judges.

“i gotta say p, this actually looks really good!” you spoke, and he beamed.

natasha didn’t look so sure

“as y/n says, it does look alright on the outside. however, it does seem like there’s some sort of… strange ingredient in the chemical makeup… i am going to analyze for a moment.” said vision

“aw, let’s just eat the damn thing already!” fury spoke, and so you all did.

“mm, it’s good!!” you said, and natasha nodded in agreement.

but did not have the same reaction. 

he had stopped chewing, and his eye had narrowed. he was giving pietro a death stare.

“uhm… fury? what is … jolly wrong with you?” scott asked, his british accent wavering.

“yeah… guv’nr?” said clint.

“who the hell puts hot sauce in a damn chocolate cake. you better start runnin’ maximoff, because i’m comin’ for you!!” fury spoke, getting progressively louder.

“that one was supposed to be for y/n- i mean vision! yeah! oops. um…” pietro spoke, before disappearing from the room in a quick streak.

after that, fury left. 

and that's why now cooking/baking competitions are banned on the premises of SHIELD!!

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#mcu headcanons #marvel headcanons #marvel #mcu #mae's requests #avengers headcanons #bucky barnes #sam wilson #steve rogers #tony stark #pietro maximoff #scott lang #clint barton #nick fury

[softtdaisy]

EVERY BREATH EVERY HEARTBEAT

DESCRIPTION I when gwen has to leave, she asks peter to come and take care of you. there is just one problem: you hate peter parker.

PAIRING I tasm!peter parker × fem!reader

WORD COUNT I 5k

A/N I a massive thank you to my lovely @burnthoneymint​ who accepted to beta read this story. She made it so much better, thank you so much ily 🥺  this story contains a toxic relationship, if you’re in one and you need to talk about this, you can send me a dm I know what it’s like 🥺💛

WARNING I tw toxic relationship tw anxiety

You hated Peter Parker.

A fact that made the whole cohabitation thing rather difficult.

It was either that or Gwen not accepting her dream internship offer in London. And there was no way you would prevent your best friend from living her dream. You tried to convince her that you didn’t need a babysitter to take care of you while she was away. You weren’t a baby, for God’s sake!

But your nightmares were saying otherwise. So, when she had told you she found someone to stay in her room while she was gone, you had no other choice than to accept. You thought it couldn’t be that bad to have another roommate.

You had no idea that Gwen would ask the only person you couldn’t bare being in the same room with to look after you and of course, she didn’t tell you that Peter was coming. Not even before she left. You found out the next morning, when you woke up and saw him sitting on your couch. Eating breakfast.

“What the hell.”

Those were the first words you said to Peter in years. He looked up at you with a big smile, his mouth full of cereal. You didn’t give him the chance to talk to you before heading straight to the kitchen.

Gwen had a ton of friends. She could have asked anyone. But she decided that it would be better for you to confront your feelings instead. And you hated that.

You could see Peter from where you stood, your kitchen being open to the living room. You couldn’t believe he looked exactly the same. It almost felt like he graduated from high school yesterday. He still had the same messy brown hair that he kept running his fingers through. Now that you took a closer look maybe he was a tad bit more muscular– Who were you kidding, you knew he was. He definitely didn’t have those perfect toned arms back then. And thanks to the white shirt he had so casually thrown on, you could clearly tell that his chest and back had increased in muscle mass too.

Of course, he still had this sarcastic look lingering in his eyes that drove you mad just like the old days. Peter Parker was still the same person he was in high school.

And you still hated him all the same.

“So, it’s you.” You put yourself right in front of the TV to block his line of vision. Despite that his smile never wavered.

You couldn’t believe you had to live with Peter for weeks. How were you not supposed to burst out in a fit of rage when he just sat there? Eating his dumb cereal with that dumb look on his face?  When he didn’t answer you and simply went back to eating his cereal, you knew this was going to be a living hell.

“I can’t do this.” you added, breaking the silence and leaving the room altogether.

You didn’t leave your room all day, not caring about what he might be doing all alone in your apartment. You even pretended that you didn’t care if he brought someone here or not. You just didn’t care. You were going to ignore Peter just like you did all those years ago.

Or at least you thought.

It was 1 a.m. and you couldn’t sleep. Every time you attempted to close your eyes, you were trapped in a nightmare. It’s been going on for weeks now and you were about to reach your limit and start to hit your head against the wall to finally knock yourself unconscious to get some good night's rest. You hated the fact that you’ve become so fragile and broken, but it wasn’t your fault. How could you ever blame yourself for meeting such an awful person?

Just as you closed your eyes for the nth time that night, you heard a massive explosion in, you assumed, your living room. The loud sound was followed by a ‘Holy fucking shit’. You jumped immediately, shaking from the fear of having someone in your apartment. How did he come in? What was he going to do? Unknowingly you grabbed the sheets so hard that your knuckles had turned white. This couldn’t be it– You almost had a heart attack when your door slammed open. This was the end.

You were 100 % sure your ex was there, ready to exact his revenge on you.

Turned out it was just Peter, in his Star Wars shirt and boxer.

He immediately ran to you and grabbed your face with his hands. The inside of his palms were damp, he must’ve just washed them before rushing here, you loved the feeling of  water against your skin. Especially now when your face was burning, it helped you calm down. Peter was absolutely frantic about what just happened.

“Are you alright?” he asked over and over, until you finally nodded, realizing that Peter was talking to you. “I heard you scream, I thought something happened.”

You didn’t notice you were screaming. It wasn’t the first time. At least that was what Gwen told you. At that moment you realized that she had stopped telling you about it so you wouldn’t feel bad and not because you stopped screaming bloody murder in the middle of the night.

When one of Peter’s hands slid down your arm, you didn’t hesitate and nuzzled close.  You needed to feel safe and convince your brain that it was only Peter. Not somebody else.

Peter was confused at first. You haven’t spoken to him all day and now you were in his arms? It wasn’t part of the plan. Well, there wasn’t exactly a plan per se,  only Gwen telling him that he needed to stay here and take care of you. He slowly placed his hand on your back to steady your body against his. You were still shaking, and it was quite devastating for him to witness. Peter always saw you as this strong girl that could punch a guy without hesitation. He never saw you cry. The worst part of this all was that he knew you would hate yourself next morning for crying in front of him.

But he would gladly accept this hate if it made you feel better.

“Let’s go back to sleep, okay?” he whispered in your ear. He didn’t let you answer before slowly laying you back on your bed. You were still pressed against his chest. Since you weren’t trying to escape his arms, Peter thought that you didn’t mind. His free hand ended up on your hair, brushing it slowly to help you relax. He had no idea what you liked. He wished he did.

You never imagined you would fall asleep in Peter’s arms. But you had to admit it was pretty reassuring. His arms felt strong around your body, and you could feel the heat of his chest against you. You had a hard time being close to anyone like this, except for your best friend. But weirdly, being with Peter right now felt right.

Falling asleep, you remembered the days when you were sitting next to him in class. You had no idea if he was using the same kind of shower gel, but he smelt just like he did back then. Suddenly you were a teen again and your problems all disappeared. The only person in your world was Peter Parker.

Peter slept a good hour in your bed. He didn’t even realize he was until he woke up and felt your breath against his neck. That was definitely not what he had planned when he came here. It took him a few seconds to remember why he was even in your room. You were more relaxed now from when he came in. He hesitated between staying here to make sure you would be alright or leaving. But Peter thought you would be mad at him if you woke up together the next morning. So, after he gave you a forehead kiss he couldn’t resist, he got up and went to his bedroom. And his bed never felt emptier.

When Peter woke up the next morning, you were already in the living room. It was a sight he had to get used to: your computer on your thighs and a coffee cup next to you. You didn’t even look up.

You were ashamed that out of all the people in the world, Peter Parker was the one who saw you at your lowest. Moreover, you were ashamed to hate him so much when he hasn’t been anything but nice to you last night. He could have left you alone. You wouldn’t even have told Gwen if he didn’t take care of you. You weren’t expecting anything from Peter. Even less for him to kiss your forehead so softly. You weren’t sure it actually happened. You just felt it. But when he entered the room this morning, it was like your whole body was screaming; it happened girl!

You appreciated that Peter didn’t say a single thing about last night. No “you’re feeling better?” No, “you slept good?” No, “so you slept in my arms, hm?” Peter acted like it didn’t happen and it was exactly what you wanted. Maybe you should work on that hate after all.

Or maybe not. Working next to him was worse than you imagined.

“Turn off the TV.” You hissed between your teeth.

Peter was clearly playing on your nerves and he knew what he was doing. You could tell from the mischievous smile spreading across his face. He propped his legs above the table and crossed them as if he owned the place.  You were going to kill this man.

“Come take the remote if you want to turn it off so bad.” He finally answered, his eyes glued to the screen.

He wanted to play, did he now? Fine, you were a good player.

You put your computer to the side and started prowling towards Peter to grab the remote he held tightly in his hand. The same hand that was moving as far away as it could from you. His laugh echoed alongside your annoyed groans, you almost thought of placing a right between his legs to shut him up but decided against it. Why were you stuck with the worst human on earth?

You almost grabbed the remote when your phone started ringing. And suddenly, it was as if the world stopped. You couldn’t hear the TV nor Peter’s voice who was asking about the caller ID. You couldn’t tell who it was from there. But you were too scared to see. He couldn’t call you, Gwen had taken care of that by blocking his number, but you knew he would use private numbers to reach you.

It wasn’t until your phone stopped ringing that you sat back and finally looked at the caller ID. “unknown.” Of course. You had no idea how long you stood silently still, looking straight at the wall, trying to calm yourself down. When you felt a hand on your thigh, you almost jumped despite knowing it was Peter. But his hand didn’t slide to your inner thigh, not like your ex used to do. You knew you were safe.

“You want to talk about it?” he asked in a low voice.

Peter knew that sometimes it was terrifying to talk about issues. Because actually voicing them out made them feel more real r and it forced you to face them. He didn’t want to force you. Not when you couldn’t even look him in the eyes if it’s not to insult him. But right now, he seemed to be the only person around you. And he wouldn’t wish on his worst enemy to stay silent for weeks.

“What did Gwen tell you exactly?” you shifted your gaze to face Peter.

One thing you remembered about the past was that he was incapable of lying when he was face to face with someone. He could, of course. But it didn’t work when the person he was lying to knew how he wetted his lips again and again as he tried to find the perfect lie. The perks of seeing your best-friend with her boyfriend all the time.

“Not much.” He shrugged. “She said that you needed someone to stay with you while she was away. When I asked why you couldn’t stay alone, she said that you were not at your best and that she didn’t like the idea of you being lonely. She probably thought she wasn’t the one to tell me what your problem was, and I respect that.”

Peter’s eyes couldn’t leave yours; it was like he was afraid to disturb the moment. When Gwen told him that she didn’t want to leave you alone, he really thought she was messing with him. Why would you need someone? Now he understood that Gwen was sincerely scared for you and Peter could now see why. “I also respect it if you don’t want to tell me either. I’m good.”

“I dated my ex, Sam, for about a year. If you ask Gwen, she’ll tell you she knew from the very beginning that something was wrong with the guy.”

You laughed about it, it was a bitter laugh. Deep down you wished you had listened to her when she told you to be careful about Sam. When Peter took your hand, you realized you were scratching your skin. Something you do every time you start to talk about the whole situation.

“Everything was fine between us. But he started to change in the last couple of months, he became more…possessive. He wanted to see my phone all the time to make sure I wasn’t texting another guy. He kept it with him when we were hanging out, so he knew I wouldn’t be talking to anyone else. Not even Gwen. I was supposed to be completely focused on him.”

You could almost hear him say you’re my girlfriend, I’m the most important person in your life. Not anybody else. A shiver climbed up your spine.

“He had the passwords to all my social media, in case I was trying to hide the affair that I wasn’t having. Sometimes he texted me if he saw me online, to know who I was talking to. I could barely go out without him because he was so sure I would find another man. I had to text him all the time to convince him that I wasn’t cheating.” You rolled your eyes at this, trying to make it sound less pathetic than it was to you.

But in the end, you did feel pathetic agreeing to all of this from the start. And you thought Peter was probably thinking the same. Fearfully, you looked at him, you noticed the change in his expression. He looked angry, frustrated almost. He was gritting his teeth so hard that you wondered when he would start to bleed.

“One day I tried to break up with him, I couldn’t deal with all his possessiveness anymore. But…he threatened to jump off the window. He literally sat on the border, ready to jump if I left him and I… I couldn’t have his death weighing on my conscience!” Your voice broke at that moment. You had to bite your tongue to silence your sobs. “After that I started becoming more scared and stressed about him. I was scared about what he might do if I left him… If he didn’t hurt himself, who was he going to hurt? Me? The person I’m seeing? One night he came here, and Gwen noticed how anxious I was about it. When he refused to leave, she called the police.”

You could almost hear Gwen again, how she told you that she would have been more careful about him and how she was going to beat the hell out of him if he ever came back.

“They put a restraining order against him. Which is already a good thing but it’s not like I have a police officer in front of my door 24/7. Well, I had Gwen, it’s quite the same.” You laughed a little but clearly Peter didn’t find this humorous. You might’ve regretted this later on, but you placed your hand on top of his. Trying to convince him that it was fine. But you had to convince yourself first which was even harder. “It will get better. Don’t worry about it.”

Since Peter wasn’t answering, you decided to leave the room. You grabbed your computer and locked yourself in your bedroom. You didn’t need Peter’s pity. For a few minutes, you forgot about your hate for him.

Or more exactly, the reason why you hated him.

The next following days were quite confusing for Peter. He almost didn’t see you at all since you were leaving your bedroom only to get coffee in the morning or to take a shower. Something that you did either early in the morning when he was still sleeping or late at night when you heard his door closing. He understood it the first night. He still didn’t want to confront you about your feelings, so he accepted that.

Yet, Peter Parker wasn’t a doll you could play with. He was still living here. And he’d hate to leave the place without being on good terms with you.

So, one night, he waited for you. He closed his door and stood in the hallway; his arms crossed against his chest. When you left your room, you were definitely not ready to come across Peter. You jumped at the sight of him and cursed under your breath.

“What are you doing here?” you knew you sounded silly, complaining about your roommate being outside his bedroom.

“Why do you hate me?” he sounded more confused than he wanted to. But he couldn’t help it. No matter how hard he tried, Peter couldn’t put his finger on the thing he did that made you hate him like this.

You were caught off guard by his unprompted question and tried to escape the whole situation. There was no way you would admit it, especially not to him. But whenever you tried to move around him, he stopped you. It was getting on your nerves.

“Leave me alone.” You mumbled but when he grabbed your wrist, you knew you were doomed. Peter was way too strong for you to escape and you would either hurt yourself or him if you tried. And the whole temporary-roommates situation would be ruined.

“Fine, you want to know?” you snarled, venom in your voice. “It was because I loved you, Peter!”

You looked Peter straight in the eyes. If that was what he wanted to hear, fine, you were playing into his little game. Peter’s silence wasn’t the answer you were expecting. You never thought confessing would actually give you some kind of relief, getting drunk on honesty, you started to spill your guts.

“I was head over heels in love with you back in high school. I was so used to getting my heart broken by assholes that suddenly, seeing you, the nice and discreet guy next to me in class was like a dream come true. But I was too scared that you wouldn’t want me back. Nobody knew about it. Not even Gwen. She only knew I liked a guy from school and one day she said I should write you a letter. I didn’t want to. But guess what? I did. I fucking did Peter.”

You inched closer to him and placed your first against his chest. You could see the confusion in his eyes, but it didn’t matter. You were back in high school with a broken heart and false hopes.

“The very same day I put the letter in your locker, you started seeing Gwen. I felt so stupid, I didn’t want to break up her new relationship. All I wanted was to take it back. I thought that the day you would come talk to me about this, we would have found a solution.”

You lowered your gaze to the floor. You remembered waiting every single day for Peter to say something. Anything. Analyzing every look he gave you. Hoping that the two of you would at least be able to act like nothing happened. For some reason, you kept having hopes that he would say he loved you too even if it wasn’t fair to Gwen.

“The worst thing about this was that you never acknowledged my feelings. I was nothing to you Peter and it was probably worse than you just rejecting me.”

Peter, ever so slowly, hooked a finger under your chin and pushed your downcasted gaze up to meet his gaze. You frowned but only for a few seconds. His subtle touch had managed to calm you down. Peter felt like he was in another universe. Everything you had just confessed seemed so unreal.

“I never got your letter.” it was barely a whisper, as if he was scared you were going to run away the second you understood what he was saying. And when you parted your lips, he didn’t hesitate to push a finger against the to silence you. “If I did, I would never have ignored you or your feelings [y/n]. Even if I was with Gwen. I would have preferred talking about this a million times than seeing you avoiding me like I killed your whole family.” When you rolled your eyes, he pressed his finger a little bit harder on your lips, smiling. “You know it’s true.”

“That doesn’t tell me where my letter is.” You finally said as Peter moved his finger away from your lips. But it was a question Peter didn’t know the answer to. He was curious to know how it could have disappeared from his locker. Nobody had access to it except him…right?

“Do you mind letting me take my shower now?” you asked, and moved out of your way, still slightly dazed. So, you’ve been in love with him all this time. Maybe everything wasn’t lost for him.

Peter suddenly moved past you and entered your room, you stared at him in complete shock, mouth ajar as he looked around.

“You know what’s funny…” he began, moving towards the bed.

You were definitely going to kill Peter Parker in his sleep.

“You hated me because you loved me.” Now he was sitting on your bed, his back pressed snug against the wall and his legs dangling off of the side.

He looked comfortable and you had to stop yourself from joining him on the bed. How many times did you dream of Peter being in your room at night? You slightly shook your head, trying to empty your mind as you attempted to shoot your best glare at him.

“So, you found it so funny that you decided to stay there?”

“No, I have another question for you.”

You sighed and decided to not look at him anymore. Ignoring him was maybe the best idea, you just had to do your thing. That was what you had been doing all your life anyway so why stop? You just had to keep ignoring him.

“Can I stay there tonight?”

You dropped everything you were holding to the floor, you definitely heard that wrong. There was no way.

“What did you just say?” you turned around to look at him. You were so sure that he would have this smug expression that you were almost surprised when you saw actual sincerity.

“I’m not playing with your feelings; so please stop any plans you’re working on to kill me. I heard you crying the night before and…you seemed to sleep well when I was here so…”

He looked down, playing with his fingers. Peter didn’t mean any wrong, he really wanted you to feel better. You slowly started to realize that you’ve been misjudging him all these years. He was probably right; he never got your letter and that was the reason why he never said anything. Maybe Peter Parker was a good guy in the end.

You simply nodded to accept his request. You noticed the smile on his face before he went back on his phone, waiting for you. Neither of you said a word until you were both laying on the bed next to each other.

He was right, you were more reassured when he was around. He was laying on his back, and you were on your side, looking at him. He put his arm around you naturally, like you’ve been doing this all your life.

“This doesn’t mean I still love you, Peter.”

“Sure” he laughed before kissing your forehead. This felt so right that you couldn’t help but dream about a life where you never met Sam and Peter was all you’ve known, that he was your boyfriend since the beginning. Your life could’ve been so much better if you had the courage to say you love him back then.

Or even now.

When you woke up the next morning, you were alone in your bed. Well, except for the little piece of paper that said, “went to the grocery store, I can’t with Gwen’s gluten free stuff anymore.” You laughed, not surprised but also grateful that he left when you weren’t awake. He was trying his best with you, and it’s been a long time since a man tried.

You wished you could spend your morning in this good mood. Just hoping for Peter to come back so you could see how this new friendship would work.

You were still making coffee when you heard a loud banging against the door.

“[y/n]! I know you’re in there! Open up please!”

Your mug slipped from your fingers and crashed against the floor, shattering into a million pieces. You recognized Sam’s voice. He had no right to be here. But he probably knew you were alone. You froze in the middle of the kitchen. All you could hear was your name being shouted for all to hear, he continued to knock on the door, loud bangs echoing within the apartment and making you tremble. You were so scared that he would break it and come in to get you. You were actually living out one of your worst nightmares.

When you started to calm down, breathing in and out, you ran to your bedroom. You had to call the police. But you were shaking too much, you couldn’t even keep your phone in your hands. Just before you dialed the number, you heard a massive crash. You closed your eyes, ready to see Sam coming here and grabbing you.

But instead you hear Peter’s voice, even from here.

“Get out of here shithead.”

Peter couldn’t care less about the grocery bags he dropped to the floor. The only thing he focused on was the man in front of the door, screaming out your name. It didn't take him long to guess who this obnoxious man was. Lunging forward, Peter grabbed him by the collar and shoved him against the wall.

“You’re not welcome here, in case you didn’t notice.” If he could hear himself, he probably wouldn’t recognize his own voice.

“Who the hell are you?”

Peter hated the arrogant smile on this guy’s, Sam’s, face. How this asshole felt superior in front of him. When Peter imagined all the awful things he did to you, he didn’t hesitate and crashed his fist against Sam’s face. Peter couldn’t believe he was the reason you were so scared of leaving your house. This man deserved to die or to go to prison. Or to die in prison. But not to be around you, that was for sure.

Sam was now on the floor, groaning in pain, Peter grabbed him by the collar again, making sure he was listening to him.

“You have no right to be here. So, you have three choices. Either you leave now, or you stay, and I call the police. Or I beat the hell out of you so hard they won’t recognize you in the street anymore. Which one do you choose?”

Peter wasn’t amused when Sam pursed his lips and spitted on his face, he responded by hitting him again, this time square on the jaw. The shy and discreet Peter Parker was long gone when the people he cared for, especially you, were in danger.

“Fine. I’ll leave.” the man groaned, rubbing his jaw. Sam staggered as he got up, Peter was trying hard not to hit him again. “But if this bitch decides to…”

He never got to finish his sentence. Sam only managed to take a couple of steps forward before Peter tripped him and watched him falling to his knees.

“You should leave. Now.”

Peter stayed in front of the door until he was completely out of view. But before he could actually open the door you beat him to it.  

“You heard everything, right?” he asked, his back still facing you. Instead of answering with words, you wrapped your shaking arms around his body and pressed your face against his back.

“I did. Thank you.”

What surprised him more was when you gave him a little kiss on the neck. Peter immediately turned red, but he wasn’t ashamed to show you the effect you had on him.

Peter turned around and cupped your face between his hands, like he did the first night.

“I guess you don’t hate me anymore.”

He knew you didn’t. Or at least he hoped you didn’t. But looks didn’t lie and by that he knew he was right.  

Your eyes were shining looking at his beautiful face. The face of a man that proved to you that love wasn’t that bad and that maybe, just maybe, you could trust someone new.

“I can work on that.” You simply replied before hugging him again.

You used to hate Peter Parker. Now his arms were the only comfort you needed.

#tasm!Peter Parker x reader #tasm!peter x y/n #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!Peter Parker imagine #Peter Parker x reader #Peter Parker imagine #Peter Parker x you #Peter Parker fic #Peter Parker fanfiction #Peter Parker x y/n #tasm!Peter Parker x y/n #tasm!Peter Parker fiction #tasm!Peter Parker fic #tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter imagine #tasm!peter fic #andrew garfield x reader #Andrew Garfield #andrew garfield x you #andrew garfield imagine #peter parker #tasm!peter parker #the amazing spiderman #my writing

[emberfrostlovesloki]

Spider-Man(?) [Hotch x Reader]

Photo credits: Left (@rebecca--barnes) Center (google) Right (@hotchs-big-hands)

Prompt: Aaron hires the reader to come and be Spider-Man at Jack’s fifth birthday party and ends up offering the reader some comfort and advice at the same time. 

Pairing: Aaron x fem!non-BAU!reader. The reader uses she/her pronouns 

Category: fluff/comfort 

Word Count: 6.1K 

Content Warnings: drinking [light], some sadness / depression, tension [slight (Haley and Hotch)], mention of breakups [Haley and Hotch], if I missed any, please let me know.

A/N: Hi loves! Here is another fic based on the amazing @imagining-in-the-margins January/February Writing Challenge. The prompt this was based on was “Characters change career paths with a very different job.” I wrote this because sometimes I feel stuck in my life (even though I love my job), but sometimes I wonder if things could be different. So I wanted a bit of encouragement from Aaron. So this goes out to anyone who just feels a bit mheh right now. I wrote this as a platonic fic but read it how you like. If you enjoy this fic, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! I hope you’re having a great start to your week and thanks for reading. Love Levi - ❤️

List with all stories 

_y/n_= your name 

_y/l/n_ = your last name 

_y/f/d/p_ = your favorite Disney Princess

_a/t/y/k_ = any tricks you know

Aaron was doubtful as he called the final number on his list. The name already wasn’t promising, and he was trying to find any way to make sure Jack had what he wanted for this fifth birthday party. Hotch had never really been someone who had been interested in superheroes. The most exposure he had to them was the Batman comic strip that ran in the Sunday paper when he was a kid, and even then, the story always took too long to unfold to keep his attention for more than a few weeks in a row. Then when he was older, and the Marvle boom had hit, the movies that were coming out had no real appeal to him. However, Aaron had become a fan of superheroes for Jack’s sake. Jack loved to watch the Amazing Spiderman cartoons on Saturday morning with a bowl of cereal in his little hands. Aaron would often watch along with his son for some quality time before he got picked up by Haley. Aaron had come to love those moments of quiet, watching his boy’s eyes light up as Peter Parker fought off one villain or another. Jack wasn’t old enough yet to get the romantic problems Spider-man had, but Hotch knew that one day, they’d have that conversation, and he’d feel old giving it out. Aaron already could see Jack growing into his own person with his own opinions and friend groups. It was because of this, the fact that childhood was so fleeting, that Aaron wanted to give his son the perfect birthday party. 

Hotch had been searching for a Spider-Man to make an appearance at the party for an hour or so. He’d coordinated with Haley, and she’d gotten a superhero-themed cake and she agreed to let someone come and cosplay for Jack and his friends. But the search so far had been unsuccessful. He heaved a sigh and dialed the last number. If Party Princesses Inc. didn’t have someone who could do it, he wasn’t sure what he would do. Aaron made a fine Santa at Christmas time, but he was no Spider-man. The phone rang three times before someone picked up. The woman on the other line sounded tired as she said, “Party Princessess Inc. How can we help make your party magical?” Hotch let out a breath and replied, “Hi, I was wondering if you had someone who could be Spider-Man for a party three weeks from this Saturday?” There was a brief pause before the lady said, “Let me check the schedule for that Saturday, Sir.” Aaron nodded and waited for a few minutes. When the woman came back on the line, she said, “Sir, none of our guys are scheduled for that weekend, but we have a girl that can pull off Spider-Man pretty well. She does crossplay or whatever that is.” Hotch hesitated for a moment, He wasn’t sure about this, but at least there was an option, even if it wasn’t a great one. As if the woman could sense his hesitation, she said, “I know it might not be ideal, but _y/n_ is convincing. There are pictures of her on our website as Spider-Man so you can see them. I wish he had more guys on the team, but we don’t get that many requests for male characters at boys' parties. This is a party for a boy, right?” Aaron replied, “Yes, it’s for my son. If I did want to book the person you’re talking about would that be through the webpage or somewhere else? I don’t see a form online.” The woman clicked on a keyboard for a second before saying, “We’re currently updating our website, so the form is temporarily down for the public, but what I can do is give you _y/n_’s number and if you decide you want to book her, she can fill out the form from her end and email it over for your records.” Hotch replied, “Alright. Could you give me _y/n_’s last name and number, please?” The tired assistant relayed the information and Hotch hung up shortly after that. He then opened his laptop and looked up _y/n_’s profile on the Party Princesses website. As unconvinced as Aaron had been, the photos of the young woman were pretty convincing. She made a good _y/f/d/p_ but also passed off as a Spider-Man, Captain America, and Luke Skywalker. She was so convincing that Aaron might have believed _y/n_ was a guy if it wasn’t for the softer curves of her hips and shoulders. Jack wouldn’t notice, and even if he did, it would be a good learning opportunity for his son to realize that not everyone felt like just a boy or girl, and people could look however they liked if if made them comfortable. Hotch felt relieved that he had persisted because it looked like he was going to be able to give Jack a big surprise at his party. He quickly dialed the number the woman had given him because he didn’t want to risk having his only option get booked for another party. 

A bright and chipper voice answered saying, “Hey this is _y/n_ with Party Princesses Inc. How can I make your party magical?” There was a large contrast from the woman at the agency. Hotch cleared his throat and said, “Hello. My name is Aaron Hotchner. I was told to give you a call if I was interested in booking you for a party in three weeks.” There was a shuffling on the other end of the line and _y/n_ said, “You are correct, Mr. Hotchner. Please give me one second and let me pull up my calendar and the form I need to fill out for you.” Aaron waited patiently for _y/n_ to come back. When she did, she started by asking, “Alright, sorry for that wait. What day and time would you like me?” Aaron provided those details, and then _y/n_ asked, “Alright, and how long were you wanting me and in which character?” Aaron replied, “Could you tell me about your rates before I decide a time? I didn’t see them on the website. And I was looking for Spider-Man if can do that.” There was a soft chuckle before _y/n_ replied, “I can somehow still manage to pull off Spider-Man, shockingly. And about the prices. I charge a flat rate of $25 for thirty minutes or $45 for an hour. If you want me longer than that it’s an additional $25 for each thirty minutes after that.” Hotch was surprised by the rate. He thought it was low for the type of service being offered. He wondered for a second who set the prices. He didn’t elaborate on that question though as he said, “Could I book you for two hours from 1:00 to 3:00?” _y/n_ responded quickly, “Absolutely. If you could give me an email address I will send over this form and ask you a few questions like the address you’re holding the party at and parking and such. Also if I could get your cell number as well, just in case I run into traffic or there’s an emergency or something.” Aaron nodded and said, “Right. A good email is [email protected] and a good number is 215-359-0075.” Hotch heard as _y/n_ typed in the information and said, “Perfect. I just want to let you know that because I’m not a guy I won’t be able to take off the mask in front of the party guests, and that the company requires you to pay me in either cash or check at the end of the allotted time. Does that work for you, Mr. Hotchner?” Aaron nodded. For the first time, a small note of discomfort could be detected in _y/n_’s voice. Again, Aaron didn’t question this as he said, “That checks out with me. Thanks so much for taking this, I was getting a bit desperate.” That soft chuckle from _y/n_ came back and Hotch couldn’t help but smile slightly. From _y/n_’s tone and energy, he wondered how old _y/n_ was. _y/n_ replied, “Well I’m happy to help Mr. Hotchner. I’ll send over that email in a few minutes and then I’ll see you in three weeks.” With that, both parties hung up. Aaron couldn't help but smile himself for being able to do this for Jack, and he couldn’t wait to see the look on his son's face when Spider-man showed up at his party. 

The weeks that led up to Jack's big day went quickly. There was one long case that took the team away for seven days, but that didn’t stop Aaron, and especially Jack from getting excited for the party. Jack had invited all of his preschool class as well as a few friends from soccer. Aaron spent some time getting some last-minute gifts for Jack and making the final arrangements for food and balloons. They were holding the party at Rossi’s because neither Aaron nor Haley had the indoor and outdoor space to hold eighteen kids and their parents. Hotch was incredibly grateful for his friend and his team, as they all loved Jack so much. The BAU was going to be there on Saturday. He was grateful for this because it would be the first time he met Haley’s new boyfriend since the separation. He was happy for Haley, of course. He wanted her to be content and find someone to love, but that didn’t take away the sting that he still felt at how things had ended. He prayed that it wouldn’t be an awkward situation when he met her new boyfriend. For his part, he was going to make it as easy as possible, and that was going to be aided by having his support system behind him. After all the day was about Jack, not him and Haley’s relationship. On Friday that week, he left the office at five. He stopped off at Rossi’s office to hand off his gifts for tomorrow. It wouldn’t be much of a surprise if he took them in the car with Jack tomorrow. After Dave had the presents on his desk, Aaron said, “ Thanks for everything, Dave. I really appreciate you.” Rossi laughed and said, “Well don’t thank me yet, we still have a party to get through tomorrow. Now if it goes well, then you can thank me with a bottle of that whiskey I like.” That got Aaron laughing. Hotch straightened up and Rossi asked, “Did you tell Spider-Man about the parking and the surprise entrance?” Hotch nodded and said, “We got it all cleared. Now let’s just pray for a clear day.” Dave smiled and replied, “Don’t worry, Hotch. It’s gonna be perfect. Now go and get Jack. You don’t want him waiting at school the day before his birthday.” With that statement of encouragement, Aaron left the office and waved bye to Emily and Spencer who were still in the bullpen. Both agents told him that they’d see him tomorrow. 

Aaron drove to Jack’s preschool and parked. On Fridays, when Hotch had Jack for the weekends, his son stayed after school at a reading program. The extra half-hour gave him time to get from the office and to the school. Aaron hopped out of the car and moved inside. He signed Jack out and the coordinator of the program sent Jack out to his dad. Jack’s face lit up, as he ran on small legs to hug his dad. Hotch accepted the gesture happily and said, “Hey bud! You’re looking sharp today in your button-up. Is that new?” Jack nodded happily and said, “Mhm. Garret got to for me as an early present.” Aaron smiled and replied, “Well it looks great son. How about we go home, maybe stop at the park on the way there?” Jack nodded giddily and started toward the door excitedly. At the park, Hotch played with his son on the playground and ended up pushing him on the swings higher and higher into the air. Aaron didn’t make any more comments about the fact that Haley’s new partner was getting his son clothes. It was a nice gesture, but it made Hotch wonder if the man was trying to buy his son’s affection. He didn’t want to read into it too much, but he couldn’t help do it a little. After the separation from Haley, things felt different. Of course, they did. But Aaron hadn’t expected it to be so difficult. Sometimes he felt like he was walking on eggshells around Haley, and now Garret. He didn’t want there to be any tension, especially for his son’s sake. It made Aaron feel like a normal human having to deal with these kinds of situations. Not that he thought he was extraordinary or anything, just that profiling usually allowed him to read situations better. In the case of his personal life, he wasn’t succeeding in it well. When the park became boring to Jack, and Aaron made sure his son had gotten some of his extra post-school energy out, they headed for home. In the car, Jack asked, “Daddy, can we get pizza tonight?” Hotch smiled in the front seat, looked at Jack in the rearview, and said, “Not tonight. Remember that we’re having pizza at your party tomorrow and I don’t want you to get tired of it before your big day.” Jack sulked in the back. However, he quickly turned around and asked, “What are we having then?” Aaron smiled and said, “It thought maybe some chicken nuggets and Mac and Cheese?” Hearing this, Jack smiled, but it fell when Aaron added, “And some peas and carrots.” Jack made a gagging face at the mention of vegetables and he replied, “You know we gotta eat those veggies to have the good stuff kiddo.” Jack continued to sulk but knew that this was a rule for both Dad and Mom’s house and as much as he fought it, it was what they’d set up. 

The rest of the night went by quickly. Jack ate his dinner with little fuss, and after a bedtime story, he went to sleep excited for his birthday tomorrow. Once Jack’s night light was on and he was tucked in, Aaron moved into the kitchen on soft feet. He poured himself a glass of white to relax for the rest of the evening. He moved to the couch and grabbed the novel he was currently reading. He was trying to relax more for himself and Jack’s sake. He knew being stressed all the time was bad for his health and given how his father had died young, he wasn’t planning on repeating that for Jack. Of course in Aaron’s case, he was happy for his father to be gone. It was a blessing more than anything else. The relief he felt at his father’s passing was something he still hadn’t processed, but for now, he was fine. He had to be fine for Jack and the team's sake. Aaron pushed the thought aside and dove into his book and let the night slip away like sand in an hourglass. 

In the morning, Hotch took his normal long Saturday run at 5:00 a.m. The pounding of his feet on the pavement was a great way to get the stress out for the day ahead. Running had become therapeutic for him as it gave him something to do in the early hours of the morning when he naturally woke up and had nothing to do to fill the space before Jack woke up for the day. They had been even longer runs before he and Haley had set up the visiting schedule with his son. But now that it was sorted out, and they were doing their best to co-parent, things had finally slipped into place a bit more. When Aaron got home, he started some coffee on the machine and moved to his room. He stripped off his sweaty shirt and pants along with his briefs. He threw them all in the laundry basket in his closet. Once the shower was suitably warm, he stepped under the flow of the water and let his muscles relax. He played through what the day might look like and remembered that he’d have to text _y/n_ about where the gate to Rossi’s backyard was for her surprise entrance. This thought came to him as he was rinsing the suds out of his short hair. He tipped his head back a little more so no soap got in his eyes. He was at the age in his life where a warm shower could just make the morning and this one was doing just that. Even after he was clean, he stood under the water for a few minutes more. When he was content, he stepped out and dried off. 

When he had his clothes on and teeth brushed, Hotch moved to Jack’s room and woke him gently. Jack turned on his side and opened his eyes slowly. He smiled up at this dad and said, “Hey,” in a sleepy voice. Aaron knelt near his bed and said, “Morning Buddy. Happy Birthday.” It was like Jack had forgotten it was his birthday and sat up and said, “It’s my birthday!” in an excited voice. Hotch gave a little laugh and said, “Yup. It’s a big day for a big boy. Now how about you pick out an outfit for the day and then come into the kitchen? We can grab some breakfast and watch cartoons until we need to head to Uncle Rossi’s?” Jack nodded excitedly as he scrambled out of bed. Aaron watched with a smile as Jack got some clothes from his small dresser. Hotch moved back to the kitchen and got his first cup of coffee and a bowl of cereal for his son. By the time Jack was out of his room, Spider-Man was on the TV and they settled on the couch near the screen and ate their breakfast. Jack was wearing jeans and his Spider-Man t-shirt that Aaron had gotten him last month. At around eleven, Hotch looked down at Jack and said, “Alright bud, I think it’s time that we head over to your party. How about that?” Jack nodded and moved off the couch for his shoes. Aaron turned off the TV and grabbed his jacket, keys, and wallet. The drive over to Rossi’s was filled with some music and Jack’s excited feet kicking up and down in his seat. It didn’t take long to get to the site of the party and Hotch recognized Derek and JJ’s cars on the street already. He smiled as he and Jack moved down the sidewalk and to Rossi’s large glass door. Dave opened the door for the birthday boy, and he gave Jack a big hug which was then increased as Derek, Spencer, Penelope, and JJ, came into the entryway. There were greetings on all sides, and the guests started to arrive. As the party picked up, the kids started playing some games inside. Haley, who had shown up with a big pack of guests was mingling with the other parents and making them feel welcome. Aaron was telling the parents where to put the gifts while Haley was telling the adults where the grown-up drinks were and where the kid’s drinks were. Once all the parents had been greeted, Hotch walked over to Haley and gave her a light hug asking how she was doing. She replied, “Oh I’m doing good. Work is a pain like always, but when isn’t it? How about you? Any pressing cases right now?” Hotch nodded no and replied, “Thankfully not, but now you’ve said something about it Strauss will probably call me right now.” Haley let out a laugh and said “Well if that happens I’ll be happy to throw your cell out the window for you.” Now Aaron laughed. As worried as he had been, now that he was here, everything felt okay for now. He was glad that he and Haley could still have a relationship, a friendly one, after everything they had been through. He cleared his throat and said, “We’d better go and talk to some of the parents. Dave loves mingling, but not that much.” Haley smiled and nodded, and they both moved to the kitchen and living areas to talk and watch the party. 

After a few minutes of party games and Aaron circling around and saying special thank you’s to the team for coming. The pizza arrived and Aaron, Haley, and the rest of the parents made sure that the kids stayed at the kid’s tables set up in the kitchen to stop any mess from spreading into Rossi’s living room and white couches. After everyone had had a slice or two of some good old-fashioned pepperoni or cheese, Hotch suggested that the kids go out and play a round of soccer on the lawn. He’d made sure to bring along a soccer ball for this exact occasion. He also made sure to text _y/n_ that the birthday boy would be outside in a moment. _y/n_ responded that she was ready whenever the kids came outside. Initiating the plan, Aaron tossed Jack the soccer ball and opened the door for his son and his friends. A few of the parents moved out with their kids. Jack ran around marking the goalposts and while he was very interested in setting a stick down for the middle of the backyard to mark the middle of their make-believe field, _y/n_ slipped in the back gate. Hotch and a few of the other kids noticed and cried out in excitement with little screams of happiness. However, Jack was too obsessed with his game to notice. Aaron let out a little laugh and approached his son. He tapped Jack on the shoulder and said, “Hey, buddy, I think someone’s here to see you.” Jack looked up at his dad who was kneeling on the grass. The little boy looked over to where Aaron was looking. Hotch watched as Jack’s eyes went wide and he whispered, “Spider-Man?” And then more enthusiastically, “Spider-Man!” Jack ran over and gave _y/n_ a tight hug around her legs. Aaron was surprised how convincing _y/n_ looked in the costume. He chalked it up to youth, and again, he was incredibly grateful he didn’t have to don the costume himself because heaven knew he wouldn’t look like that. 

_y/n_ smiled as the little boy sprinted over as quickly as he could. She knew it was the birthday boy because his dad, Mr. Hotchner, had described him and told her his name was Jack. Before the little boy had noticed her, _y/n_ watched as, who she assumed was Jack’s dad, kneeled near him. The man was strikingly attractive. Mr. Hotchner had sounded nice on the phone. He had a deep, rich voice that carried well over the line, but _y/n_ hadn’t expected him to look as nice as he sounded. It was a rarity for the dads to set up this kind of thing. It made _y/n_ respect the man who clearly understood what his kid enjoyed. _y/n_ snapped out of her thoughts and looked at Hotch when Jack made contact with her legs. _y/n_ knelt and gave Jack a hug. The little boy asked in awe, “Spider-Man, what are you doing here?” _y/n_ smiled under her mask and said, “Well I was swinging around the neighborhood and someone spilled that it was your Birthday, so I thought I’d have to come by and say Happy Birthday!” Jack’s eyes stayed wide and he said, “Who told you?” _y/n_ looked over to Aaron who was standing now and was looking at the pair with a stunning smile. Jack followed her gaze to his dad. Jack’s jaw dropped and he said, “Daddy knows Spider-Man!” _y/n_ put her finger to her lips and made a “shhh-ing” sound before saying, “He does, but we can’t let anyone else know. You know how those villains get when that kind of information gets out.” Jack closed his mouth and nodded solemnly. _y/n_ didn’t want to keep Jack away from his friends for too long and noticed the soccer ball and said, “Hey how about we play some soccer with your friends?” Jack nodded enthusiastically and moved toward his friends excitedly to tell them that Spider-Man was going to play with them. The kids and _y/n_ spent about twenty-five minutes playing. _y/n_ made sure the ball stayed almost entirely with the kids and Jack and cheered when anyone made a “goal.” _y/n_ looked over at Aaron for a second and noted that he was now talking to a woman and another man. _y/n_ wasn’t close enough to hear what was being said, but even with the mask on, Mr. Hotchner didn’t look too comfortable. _y/n_ didn’t have a chance to question it too much as one of Jack’s friends approached them and said, “Can you show us some of your moves!” _y/n_ let out a laugh and said, “Well I can try, but I’m a bit sore from fighting Doc Ock a few blocks over, so let’s see what I’ve got.” The boy called out that Spider-Man was going to do some tricks and that got the attention of most of the kids and some of the parents, including the trio, that included Hotch. _y/n_ moved to the open part of the yard and did a cartwheel into a superhero pose and all the kids cheered, _y/n_ kept doing _a/t/y/k_ for a few minutes. When _y/n_ was all out of stunts, she asked, “Now how about y’all? Do any of you have any superhero moves?” A hoard of hands went up and _y/n_ organized an informal competition for all the kids to show off there summersaults and jumps and kicks, all of which were ten-out-of-tens! After a few minutes of judging, the woman that Aaron was talking to came up to her and said, “Sweetheart, why don’t you take a quick break inside? You must be baking in that costume. Jack will keep you here all night if you let him.” _y/n_ smiled and nodded saying, “Thanks, that would be nice. I can be back out in a few minutes.” Haley nodded and said, “Take your time. I can handle them for a few minutes.” _y/n_ nodded again and moved into the fancy house for the first time. 

The open doors lead to a nice open kitchen with marble countertops and brass barstools. Once _y/n_ was sure none of the kids were watching, she stripped off the mask covering her face. _y/n_ took a deep breath. Not that the mask was hard to breathe in, just a bit claustrophobic. The woman who had offered her a reprieve had been right, _y/n_ was very hot in the form-fitting costume. _y/n_ assumed the blonde-haired woman was Jack’s mom. For some reason _y/n_ started to wonder if she and Mr. Hotchner were still married. From the way Mr. Hotchner had been standing uncomfortably, it seemed that perhaps there was some tension there. _y/n_ cursed her brain that saw things that weren’t probably there and found anyone older than her attractive. This wasn’t why she was here. This was the furthest reason she was here. Thankfully _y/n_ was pulled from these thoughts when someone said, “You’re really good at this; you know that, right?” _y/n_ turned around and saw a pretty brunette woman who was moving toward the bar with an empty wineglass in hand. _y/n_ smiled and said, “Thank you. I’m still kind of new to this, so I’m happy to hear I don’t look like a complete fool out there.” The woman smiled and said, “Far from it! You’re doing awesome. I know you’ve made Jack’s day.” _y/n_ smiled and said, “Thanks. He seems like a great kid.” The woman smiled and stepped forward with a hand extended. _y/n_ took it and the woman said, “Emily, Prentiss.” _y/n_ smiled and said, “_y/n_ _y/l/n_. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Emily smiled and said, “Same here.” _y/n_was very happy she’d taken this job now. She was rarely acknowledged by anyone at parties, and at this one, she’d been offered a break and someone had noticed her existence. It was a nice reprieve as _y/n_ had been questioning her life choices recently. 

Someone else came into the room and looked at Emily and _y/n_. The bearded man looked at _y/n_ and asked, “You want a drink, kid? I’d say you’ve earned one with how happy you’ve made Jack. We’ve got wine and beer in a cooler if that’s more your thing.” _y/n_ smiled and replied, “Thank you for the offer, but it’s company policy that we don’t drink on the job. I think one or two Elsa’s had one too many and caused some problems, thus the policy.” _y/n_’s candidness had Emily almost snorting out her wine while she laughed hard. The man also chuckled and said, “You sure, we have plenty.” Prentiss composed herself and said, “Oh come on Rossi, we don’t want to get her fired.” _y/n_ smiled and said, “I appreciate it, but I really shouldn’t. I have another party after this one. If I didn’t, I’d be tempted. You’re a very kind host.” Dave gave _y/n_ a soft smile. Shortly after, Aaron entered the room and said, “I think the kids are going to come in to do cakes and presents, so you might need to put the mask back on?” _y/n_ nodded and adjusted her wig cap, holding all her hair at bay before slipping the mask back on and zipping it up the back. _y/n_ joked and said, “Ready for duty Mr. Hotchner.” Aaron nodded and said, “Please, just call me Aaron. Now let me see if I can wrangle Jack and his friends in here.” The next half hour was spent with cake, singing, and presents. Jack tried very hard to offer _y/n_ some cake, but _y/n_ adeptly replied, “Well, I’d love some, but if I take off my mask, well everyone would know who I am, and you know that can’t happen.” Jack nodded again like he was fully in the know of his favorite superhero’s life and problems. After the presents, _y/n_ took pictures with Jack and anyone else who wanted some, which was almost all of the kids. The two hours went by more quickly than usual and as some guests started to leave the party, wishing Jack the happiest of birthdays, Aaron pulled _y/n_ into the entryway and wrote out a check to _y/n_. He added a nice tip and said, “Jack had had a blast to have Spider-man at his party.” _y/n_ had taken off her mask and gloves again and when Hotch handed her the check she said, “Thanks for asking for me. I had a lot of fun with Jack and his friends today. He’s really lucky to have a dad like you.” Hotch’s cheeks took on a tinge of color at the compliment. Half of the time he felt like he was doing the parenting thing all wrong, so it was nice to come from such an unbiased source. He cleared his throat and said, “Thank you. You really made Jack’s day special.” _y/n_ smiled and said, “Tell him I said happy birthday again, please.” Hotch nodded and _y/n_ moved out the door because if she didn’t, she felt like she could stand there in her costume forever just looking at Aaron. 

Outside, _y/n_ felt a wave of disappointment at herself. The sadness wasn’t from the party, perhaps it was leaving a party was where it was coming from. It was so clear that the person being celebrated was loved and cared for. Someone who had a community around them. This job was great, but _y/n_ saw a lot of sad kids and it made her sad too. It didn’t help that working for a knockoff princess company was never on her life goals list. _y/n_ swallowed back emotions she had not been expecting when that soothing warm voice called out behind her. _y/n_ turned around and wiped her eyes before saying, “Hey Aaron, did I forget something in there.” Hotch tipped his head to the side, slightly confused why _y/n_ seemed to almost be in tears. He nodded his head no and said, “No, um, Jack insisted that I bring you out a piece of cake.” He held up a plate covered in plastic wrap. _y/n_ could see the vanilla cake with red and blue frosting beneath the plastic, and _y/n_ gave a small laugh. She looked over at Aaron as she reached for the plate and said, “That was nice of him, and you. Thank you.” _y/n_ turned and put it in the passenger seat of her car, but Hotch continued to stand there.

Finally, Aaron asked, “Are you okay, _y/n_? You seem upset. Has something happened.” _y/n_ didn’t know why, but talking to Hotch felt safe, and she sniffled and said, “Did you ever feel like you took a wrong turn in your life somewhere? Like it’s going in the wrong direction or nowhere at all?” Hotch furrowed his brow at the existential question. He slowly said, “I have. Are you feeling that, _y/n_?” He was concerned for _y/n_ now. She was young and had so much life left to live. Questions like these could weigh heavy on someone. _y/n_ sighed, leaning against her car, replying, “I guess so. I just feel kind of lost. I never saw anything like this in the cards for me.” Aaron nodded and wanted to reassure _y/n_ that life could get better. He said, “I’ve felt that way before. I’ve seen dreams of mine fade away, or realize that my dreams weren’t dreams at all. I’ve felt the same thing with a job. I had to be forgiving of myself. But it got better with time. I promise you things can get better with time, _y/n_.” _y/n_ was crying now and said, “You say that. You’re an actual hero, I heard Emily and Derek talk about the fact that you’re all in the FBI. Look at me, I just play at one. I thought I had my whole life planned out. The job I did before this was nothing like this. I feel embarrassed for being so wrong. So naive.” Hotch moved forward and put a hand on _y/n_’s shoulder like a father might. He looked into _y/n_’s eyes and said, “Listen to me. Today you were a hero to my son. You were his idol and he was so happy to have met you. And so am I. Just because I do a hard job doesn’t make yours any less worthy. Even if it’s just temporary.” _y/n_ wanted to believe him and nodded softly, still sniffling. Hotch moved closer and gave _y/n_ a hug. Something to reassure her. _y/n_ leaned into the embrace and listened to Aaron repeat himself, “It gets better if you can give yourself time.” _y/n_ nodded into his chest which was like a shield against the rest of the world and her own thoughts. _y/n_ pulled away eventually and she said, “Thank you for talking to me, Sorry to pull you away from the party.” Aaron gave her a gentle smile and said, “I think you needed to let some things out. I’m happy to listen. If you’re ever feeling terrible, you could call me. I might not pick up right away, but you can call.” _y/n_ nodded, and suddenly felt like she was part of Aaron and Jack’s community too. 

After saying thank you again, _y/n_ got in her car, and Aaron moved back to the house. As _y/n_ drove toward the next party, the fact that her life hadn’t panned out the way she planned suddenly didn’t feel so shameful. Maybe if she tried to give herself time she could figure out what her real passions were and how to take the next step forward. For now, she could be someone’s hero, even for just a few hours. And if she couldn’t, she had one very loving father in her corner. At least there was that.

______________________________________________________________

Tag List: @tgskitten @geminitapestry

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#ssa aaron hotchner #aaron hotcher #aaron x y/n #aaron x reader #hotch x y/n #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x you #reader insert #criminal minds #fanfiction #cm #aaron fluff #aaron comfort #hotch fluff #hotch comfort #hotch drabble #hotch blurb #fem reader x hotch #fem reader #jack hotchner #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #comfort fic #hotch being a dad #emily prentiss #david rossi #Aaron and haley are still friends post breakup #fluff #comfort #spiderman

[starksvinyls]

Title: A Bad Day Rating: Teen+ Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Tags: Non-Sexual Age Play, DDlb, Diapers, Wetting, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort Summary: Peter has a bad day. Notes: for @ageplay-may and the Sugar prompt for day 3: "a bad day" AO3 Link

Peter woke up with a wet pull-up, that was how it all started. Daddy had said that if he went one whole month without waking up wet, then he could go to bed in his big boy undies. It was day 23. He had been so close and Peter wanted to cry at how unfair it was! 

When Daddy came in, it only took one look at Peter’s tear filled eyes for him to know what had happened. 

“Oh, honey, it’s okay.” Tony came over and unlatched the side of his baby’s crib and helped Peter to climb out. “We’ll get you all cleaned up.” 

Since he had just taken a bath the night before, Daddy let him get in the shower and helped him to just wash off his peepee and his thighs. After, he was dried off and dressed in some shorts overalls and a Star Wars shirt, and then it was time for breakfast. 

Peter loved breakfast! Daddy always bought him Lucky Charms - his favoritist cereal. A bowl was set down in front of him once Peter had sat down at the table and he dug in, milk dribbling down his chin that he wiped away with the back of his hand. Daddy chuckled and came over with a paper towel. 

“So messy,” He teased, wiping Peter’s chin. 

Giggling, Peter went back to his cereal, but the bowl was suddenly tipping, spilling milk and cereal all over the table, it running towards him. Daddy quickly pulled his chair back to avoid any of the milk getting on Peter, and then went to pick up the bowl. He didn’t understand what had happened, had his spoon hit it?

Tears began to well up in Peter’s eyes. “‘M sorry, Daddy!” 

“Oh, sweetheart, it’s okay,” Daddy assured. “Accidents happen.” 

Daddy was kneeling on the ground, wiping up all the spilled milk that had dripped into the floor. Peter just sat in the chair, out of the way like Daddy always said. Peter wanted to help, but he usually just ended up making the mess messier. Once it all was all cleaned up, including the table, Peter got up to push his chair back over to the table and then pouted at Daddy. 

“Can i have some more cereal? Please?”

“Sorry, bud, we’re all out, that was the last of it.” Daddy said gently. “How about I make you a fried egg and bologna sandwich?”

Peter nodded dejectedly. He liked fried egg and bologna sandwiches, but it wasn’t his Lucky Charms. 

—-

By the afternoon, Peter had had enough of this day. After breakfast, he had lab time with Daddy where he burned is finger. Then, during lunch, Peter accidentally bit his cheek while chewing. During coloring time, his favorite green crayon broke, and then the pink one did, too. 

It was nap time, now, and Peter had to be put into a pull-up. He hated that, even though Daddy said that wasn’t a nice thing to say. But it was true!  Peter stomped into his room, Daddy calling after him. 

“Hey, no heavy feet, mister!” A second later Daddy appeared in the doorway of his room. “You know better than that.” 

Peter did know better than that, he knew stomping around wasn’t going to make him feel better; he and Daddy talked about that sometimes when Peter was upset. He had done something Daddy said he shouldn’t do and he was thinking mean thoughts and nothing was going right today! Before he knew it, Peter burst into tears, head thrown back as he wailed. 

“Oh, honey, hey!” Daddy rushed forward, cooing. “It’s okay, Daddy’s not mad, I just don’t want you to stomp around, okay?” 

“D-daddy! I can’t wear my big boy undies and the crayons and the milk and my finger and my cheek, Daddy! And it was the green and pink crayons and…” Peter cried harder, bringing his hands up to rub his fists over his eyes. 

“You’re having a bad day, huh, bud?” Daddy coaxed Peter over to the corner where the rocking chair was. 

Peter climbed into Daddy’s lap the second he was sat down. He tucked his face into Daddy’s shoulder, his own shaking with his hitched breath as he continued to cry. 

“Shh, honey, it’s okay.” Daddy rubbed his back. “It’s been a bad day, and you’re tired, I know. But everything is going to be okay.” 

They rocked for awhile, Peter’s tears slowly drying up as he began to drift off to sleep. Before he could get too far, Daddy gently helped him up and guided Peter over to his crib. Once nice and cozy inside, his favorite bear tucked under his arm, Peter was finally able to slip off into dream land, and with it all his icky moments from the day disappeared. 

#agepl4y may 2023 #starker #ironspider #starker fic #starksvinyls fic #*ageplay

[anotherfuckingmarvelfanaccount]

His Hoodie (Peter Parker x Reader)

This whole fic is based on this ask from @nana1000night. I did change it a little because I haven’t seen NWH yet, and reader doesn’t have specified pronouns, so anybody can read this. Y/S/N is Your Superhero Name, because everyone wants a different one, so think about yours. 

Warnings: Peter being more adorable than ever, reference to Thanos, the snap, and Mysterio; fluff, like lots of fluff. 

Word Count: 885

You were dating Peter Parker, aka Spiderman, and had been for the longest time. You were also a superhero, Y/S/N, and were also snapped in the events with Thanos. Your parents didn’t know about you being a superhero, unlike Peter and Aunt May, but May knew about you and would cover for the both of you when something happened. 

Just after the events with Mysterio, your parents were very angry that you hadn’t told them you and your best friend were running around the city as superheroes, and even angrier you hadn’t told them you were dating Peter. So, now you were sleeping at Peter and May’s apartment, sneaking back into your apartment about once a week to grab new clothes and anything else you could carry. May allowed you and Peter to sleep in the same room, provided you didn’t have sex when she was home, which neither of you would even consider. Especially since neither of you wanted May walking in on you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One Saturday, which ended up being laundry day for the three of you, you woke up with your head on Peter’s chest. And for once, Peter wasn’t awake and waiting for you to also wake up. You realized that you had worn your last clean shirt yesterday and were going to have to figure something out, since you couldn’t just walk around shirtless. Looking around still, and trying not to wake Peter, your eyes landed on his desk chair. Peter’s Midtown High hoodie! Yes! You could wear that until you were done with laundry today.

You carefully untangled yourself from Peter, took a quick and quiet shower, so as to not wake anyone else, changed into a pair of sweatpants and Peter’s hoodie, and went into the kitchen to grab some breakfast.

“Sweetie, is that Peter’s hoodie?” May whispered softly.

“Yup,” you replied at the same level, pouring yourself a bowl of your favourite cereal. “I ran out of clean shirts again, so I’m wearing this until we’ve done laundry.”

“I hope you mean ‘drowning in that’, sweetie. You could curl up in a ball, pull the hood up, and be completely covered by the entire hoodie.” May pulled the milk out of the fridge and slid it across the counter towards you.

You grabbed the milk and poured it into your bowl. “I know, that was also kinda the point. Plus, it smells good.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Half an hour later, you were dozing on the couch while watching TV when Peter came out of your shared his bedroom, and saw you laying on the couch. “Angel? Are you alrigh- is that my hoodie?”

“Mm, yeah.” You said, sitting up and rubbing at your eyes with the sleeve of the hoodie. “Is that alright? I can go chan-” You didn’t get to finish your sentence because Peter kissed you.

“I love it. It’s like you’re drowning in me. God, angel, I never wanna let go of you again.”

“Well, you have to let go a little, honey. We have to do laundry today, I ran out of shirts.”

“Nope, irrelevant. You are never washing another shirt, you can wear my stuff forever. I love this. I love you.”

“I love you too. I guess that we can snuggle for a bit, since you’re giving me those big doe eyes. But we have to do laundry at some point this weekend because I won’t have shirts for school on Monday.” 

“Nope. You’re wearing my clothes forever. This is my new favourite style. You in my clothes is officially the best thing ever.” Peter told you, pushing you back into the couch and resting his head on your chest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

May walked in with a basket of laundry half an hour later to find Peter cuddled into your chest and your fingers playing with his hair. It was nice to see the both of you so relaxed after the Blip, restarting your school year, and then the whole Mysterio thing. “Are either of you gonna help with laundry? Y/N, I know you’re out of shirts, sweetie.”

“Peter said that I’m not allowed to wear my own shirts ever again since this is officially the best thing ever. So, yes, I’d love to help, but Peter said no.” You told her.

“Peter.” May chastised playfully.

“What? Y/N looks amazing!” He said, nuzzling further into the front of your hoodie. 

You chuckled, rubbing one hand across his back while the other stayed playing with his soft, brown curls. “If I had known you would go this crazy over me, I would’ve stolen your hoodies sooner. Why are they so much more comfortable than mine anyways?”

“I’m not sure, angel. I’m not sure.”

“You will have to do laundry eventually, you know?” May asked Peter.

“Yeah, you can’t get mad at me when you run out of clothes because you won’t let me wear anything but your shirts.” You told him, poking at his cheek.

“We can do laundry later, but right now I wanna stay snuggling with my angel.” He said, interlocking his fingers with yours. “I wanna see you wearing nothing but that hoodie, I swear.” Peter whispered into your ear.

“Give me 5 minutes to get out of here, Jesus, Peter.” May said, grabbing her phone and leaving. “And use protection!”

I hope I did okay, I didn’t really know how to end it, but I love soft Peter, May and Y/N. Even the fact that wearing Y/N wearing Peter’s hoodie drives him crazy. Ugh, I love Peter. Seriously, does Marvel ever let him stop crying? Since all my friends tell me that the answer is ‘no’, we need more Peter fluff where he gets to be happy. 

#asked and answered #peter parker #aunt may #reader #readers pronouns are never mentioned #peter parker x reader #fluff #tagging is the hardest part of my fics every time #except maybe peter in this case #he went crazy for the reader in his hoodie

[ciaossu-imagines]

I know it’s not a super popular fandom but, for a Spider-Man nerd like me, the Disney XD cartoon Ultimate Spider-Man is one of my favourite things to just zone out and relax too! So I love writing about it too and it’s just a very chill experience! I hope you all will enjoy these headcanons from this prompt here for some of the characters!

Peter Parker

When you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk?

He’s definitely a more milk than cereal guy. The bowl gets filled about half way with cereal and then about full with milk and he actually enjoys letting the cereal sit for a second until it’s at that half-soggy stage (the only exception to this being Rice Krispies because those things just taste like cardboard if they get soggy at all). He is a little bit of a food-waster in that he doesn’t really drink the milk afterwards.

Do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day?

Not really. I’ve always had this strong headcanon that Pete actually has mild rosacea. He doesn’t have flare ups often, but the cold wind will trigger them more often than not.

What random objects do you use to bookmark your books?

Peter doesn’t actually own too many bookmarks. He’ll snag a free one from the library every now and then, but he tends to lose them pretty quickly or leave them in his library books when he returns them. He tends to bookmark using anything that is handy because of that, like old receipts that he has in his pocket, a paper clip, or he’ll rip off a part of empty scrap paper he has at hand. He’s even occasionally guilty of the ‘sin’ of dog-earing his pages if he really doesn’t have a bookmark or anything available to use as one. I can really easily picture Amadeus yelling at him whenever he does.

How do you take your coffee/tea?

Sweet, honestly. Peter doesn’t actually drink a lot of coffee or tea, preferring soda for a caffeine fix and hot chocolate for a hot drink. He’s more of a fan of coffee over tea, unless it’s iced sweet tea with lemon. I feel he’d be really into coffee drinks like Frappuccino’s and the other Starbucks fancy coffee drinks that’s mostly coffee flavoured sugar than actual coffee still though.

Are you self-conscious of your smile?

Peter does have a lot of issues with being self-conscious about a lot of things, but the actual appearance of his smile isn’t one of them. He’d worry more, if someone seemed to be put off by him smiling at them or stared at him weirdly when he did so, that he had something stuck in his teeth because that is legit a small, weird fear he has.

Danny Rand

Do you keep plants?

Yes. So much yes. Danny is really in tune with nature, and he likes bringing nature inside. I think that he’ll have a few houseplants and that he will name them. He’s also probably quite into the idea of having a little indoor garden, either an herb garden or a few plants, like tomatoes, that can grow well in smaller, indoor spaces.

What artistic medium do you use to express your feelings?

Danny, of course, meditates every day but I also feel like he would keep a journal. It’s not a rigid type of journaling…he doesn’t do it every day, even every week. It’s not bulleted or formatted any particular way every time but he journals whenever he feels the need to, in a very stream of consciousness sort of way.

Do you like singing/humming to yourself?

Danny definitely hums along to music, either music actually playing or just whatever is stuck in his head because he is really, really susceptible to earwormy type songs.

Do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach?

Danny’s a back sleeper to start with. He falls asleep on his back, hands loosely at his side and legs slightly apart. He uses the ‘jello game’ to fall to sleep, where he starts at his toes and imagines them just turning to jello, just becoming all relaxed and substanceless. He’ll move his way up towards his head, imagining each of his body parts and his muscles doing the same thing and he’s always asleep before he reaches his head. He does move a bit in his sleep but mostly just to change positions, not in a tossing and turning way.

What’s an inner joke you have with your friends?

I feel like Danny’s underwear is still an inner joke he has with the original team and something they’ll still occasionally tease him about.

Ava Ayala

What’s your favourite planet?

Ava’s favourite planet would probably be Earth, just because it’s home.

What’s something that made you smile today?

Her friends make her smile every day, even if they are idiots most of the time.  But I also feel like Ava sets aside time to read her favourite trashy romance novels every night right before bed, because those just really make her happy, and it never fails to make her smile as she gets ready for bed, just because she is looking forward to it so much.

If you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like?

Clean. Ava tries really hard to live properly and, while she does want sometimes to just be messy and gross, she does need that clean, orderly space. She’d think less, other than that, about what the place looks like and more about the actual function of the space. I feel like it would matter to her that there are separate bedrooms because she’s not a huge fan of sharing a bedroom with anyone, and she cares whether the plumbing is good, whether the appliances are in good working order, whether the water pressure is decent, and things along that nature.

Go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is!

I think the weird space fact that Ava knows by heart and would pull out the most is the fact that Uranus spins sideways. She learned it while doing research on a school project in elementary school and it’s just always stuck with her.

What’s your favourite pasta dish?

Ava loves a lot of Italian food but her favourite is ravioli, especially freshly made.

Luke Cage

What colour do you really want to dye your hair?

Luke actually feels no need or want to dye his hair. He keeps it really short or shaves it completely because it’s less work to take care of, so he just doesn’t see the point of him dying the inch of hair he’d keep.

Tell us something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up.

Luke sleep talks…like, he will carry on full conversations with people while he’s asleep, but they’ll make no sense to the other person. While living with the others, he woke Sam up once. Luke was fully asleep, but he just kept saying Sam’s name and Sam couldn’t see so well in the dark to know that Luke was just sleep talking, so Sam’s asking what’s going on and Luke just keeps telling Sam that he needs to go get a garbage bag. Sam, of course, groggy and a little annoyed at being woken up wants to know why they need a garbage bag at 2:34 in the morning, to which Luke tells him that it’s because the bunnies are coming. Like, they’re everywhere, man, we need to trap them in these bags. Sam did not sleep for the rest of the night and Luke couldn’t even recall what he said or what he dreamed about when he woke up.

Do you keep a journal? What do you write/draw in it?

Luke isn’t someone who would keep a journal. He’s not good at putting words to a lot of what he thinks and feels and having to keep a journal to do just that feels like more of a chore or an English assignment than something enjoyable or helpful.

What’s your favourite eye colour?

Luke really likes green eyes, especially those people whose eyes fall more towards the green-grey end of the spectrum instead of more towards the green-brown end of the spectrum. He just finds them really pretty and he doesn’t see many people with that particular shade so it instantly makes a person a little more unique looking.

Sam Alexander

Are you a morning person?

Not really, no. Sam’s naturally more of a night owl, though his schedule doesn’t normally allow him to be. He just finds he has more energy later on in the day and during the night than he tends to have in the early morning hours and, ideally, he’d sleep more from 3 a.m. to about 10 or 11 a.m. instead of the typically bed before midnight, up by 7 or 8 in the morning.

What’s your favourite thing to do on lazy days where you have zero obligations?

He definitely sleeps in. Other than that, Sam is an extrovert, and he definitely prefers company to being alone on his days off. He’d like to hang out with friends or visiting people he cares about. He likes to try to indulge his hobbies on his days off and probably has recipes bookmarked on his phone or a tablet/computer that he wants to try out on his days off. I could definitely see him inviting people over for supper because that is the best of both worlds to him – he gets to sleep in, he gets to have time for hobbies, and he gets to spend time with people he might not get to see as often as he’d like to.

Is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets?

It’s not one particular person, but two. I feel like May gets more of Sam’s emotional secrets but, because he wants to protect her, she doesn’t know about all of his superhero type secrets or what actual situations he gets up to. Rocket knows more about Sam’s superhero life, his thoughts on it, his frustrations with it.

What’s the weirdest place you’ve ever broken into?

Hey! He doesn’t break into places, not really. It’s always been because of missions and stuff, so like, he was doing the right thing by breaking in even if he was.

What are the shoes you’ve had for forever and wear with every single outfit?

I headcanon that Sam still has a pair of ratty, red, dirty old high-top sneakers in his closet. He hasn’t been able to fit into them in years and they’re battered, and most people would think they look gross. They’re the last thing he bought with his parents though, and his mom helped him decorate them with fabric markers because he thought it was the coolest thing to have your sneakers all marked up at the time. He knows he should throw them away…having the sneakers won’t bring his parents back, after all, but he just can never bring himself to do so.

Nick Fury

What’s your favourite bubblegum flavour?

Nick likes Thrills gum. He doesn’t know why, because they weren’t lying on the advertisement or package when they said it tastes like soap, but it still tastes strangely good to him.

Sunrise or sunset?

He’s seen so many of both that neither really affect him anymore and it’s not often that he’ll stop to really take in either one. But, when a particularly beautiful one strikes him just the right way and he does take those couple moments to really marvel in the beauty of the universe, it tends to be sunsets that get him.

What’s something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing?

Nick Fury will never outright praise someone or tell them verbally how much he appreciates them, and he’d definitely never call someone cute or endearing. He does keep people at arm’s length and any compliments really have to be earned. That being said, he appreciates Coulson and his loyalty to both Nick and S.H.I.E.L.D. as a whole more than the other man will ever know and is one of the few people Nick actually trusts pretty completely.

Think of it: have you ever been truly scared?

Yes. He’s not ashamed of admitting it. There is no shame in feeling fear, only in how you react to that fear.

What is your opinion of socks? Do you like wearing weird socks? Do you sleep with socks? Do you confine yourself to white sock hell? Really, just talk about socks.

White socks are hell. He is really actually very particular about socks because, yes, white socks are hell but so are those garish, patterned ones that people like to give him as gag gifts. Socks have to be black crew socks, normally Dickies brand.

Jack Russell

Do you like keeping your room messy or clean?

Jack’s room is messy but not gross messy. He’s really sensitive to smells, so there’s no food just casually left out or dirty dishes hiding in there. Dirty laundry is brought out regularly to avoid the stink or just left in the laundry room for the same reason. It’s just messier in that it’s slightly cluttered and he’s not that into the whole ‘everything in its place’ type of living.

Tell us about your pet peeves!

As mentioned above, Jack has a really keen sense of smell so scented products really annoy him. He really wishes he could walk around without having his nose assaulted by a million competing perfumes, body sprays, scented candles, body lotions, heavily scented shampoos, or laundry detergents, etc.

What colour do you wear the most?

He tends to wear cooler colours, usually in the blue or green family.

What’s the last book you remember really, really loving?

Jack doesn’t get a lot of time to read and it’s not something he does a lot of. When he does though, he tends to stay away from fantasy or supernatural type stories because they do hit just a little too close to home and he’s reading more for an escape. I think he doesn’t mind horror novels though, and he recently read My Best Friend’s Exorcism, which was pretty decent.

Flash Thompson

Do you have a favourite coffee shop? Describe it!

Flash is actually kind of a basic bitch in this regard. He doesn’t really go looking for new coffee shops or little local ones because gas station coffee or Starbucks, occasionally a Dunkin Donuts, is where he gets his java fix most of the time.

Who was the last person you gazed at the stars with?

I feel like it’s either Ben or Peter. They’re the people Flash feels most comfortable just sitting and being quiet with, without him feeling awkward or like he has to entertain them or be this big-shot, cool guy around them.

When was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything?

This, I think, is kind of the feeling he gets when he’s fighting. When he’s fighting, even if there’s a hint of fear, he at least knows what’s going on. Everything makes sense and he knows what he’s supposed to be doing and what is going to largely happen. It just is a very mentally safe place for him, if not a physically safe place.

Do you trust your instincts a lot?

Yes. One hundred percent of the time, Flash is always going to trust his instincts and is very much a believer in gut feelings or ‘heart over head’. If his gut is telling him that something is off, even if there’s no logic for it, he’s going to go more with what his instincts tell him.

Tell us the worst pun you can think of.

I was going to make myself a belt made out of watches, but then I realized it would be a waist of time! (Honestly, puns have to be really simple and obvious for Flash to get them.)

#disney's ultimate spiderman #headcanons

[euphoricdreamsidreamabout]

Act like a barrier (Peter Parker X reader )

Summary: Tony doesn’t like how you and Peter are always so close, he will do anything to separate you both.

Warnings: fluff, curse words

—

The milk poured into the bowl as you looked at Peter across the room.

"Hey babe we don't have fruit loops so you will have to work with lucky charms. " You told him.

"What, why? " He whined. "Isn't your dad like a billionare or something? Can't he get various types of cereals!"

You chuckled and shaked your head at your boyfriends childish manner. You walked over to him in front of the couch and kept the bowls on the coffee table. "So what did you choose?".

"Well i was thinking we can watch Star Wars. " He said looking sheepishly.

"Honestly i should have known, why'd I even ask? " You said and sat down beside him.

He put his arm around you while you kept your head on his shoulder.

"I wish we had more days like this. " Peter sighed and kissed your head.

"Like what, us on the couch?" You asked.

"No, I mean days where its just like us having fun together and chilling and you know just you and me." He explained waving his hands around and looking at your eyes.

"Well I'm here too,kids." You heard Nat say making you jump.

"Where did you come from?” You asked confused. “Anyways we were having our moment I mean he was gonna kiss me. Seriously Nat?” You exasperated.

"Aren't we together? " Peter looked at you confusingly.

“We are but every kiss matters. " You said and pecked him on the lips.

“Ok you guys are cute and all but this” she pointed her finger towards you both and continued “is too much PDA for me.”

You watched Nat go to the coffee machine and make her coffee. As she turned around you flipped her off .As a response she flipped you back. You smiled and went back to watching the movie.

—

The next one hour was chaos. It consisted of snarky comment from Sam and Bucky about you two, Steve telling you stories about how he was in love with Peggy like Peter is with you , wanda constantly saying how cute you guys we're and Thor asking you how to use the remote.

It would be a lie if you said that you understood the movie. With the avengers’ constant bickering you both turned the T.V off and decided to just cuddle.

You started treading your finger through Peters hair when you a heard a slight scoff. You turned around and saw your dad with a not amused expression.You knew what was gonna happen.

“Uh uh this is not happening in my house kiddos.” He said looking at you both.

“Oh ! Good afternoon , Mr. Stark.”Peter stuttered

“Really dad? We have talked about this so many times. We're just cuddling and Peters a nice guy . AlsoI’m 18 so I’m pretty sure I can date someone.”You reasoned.

“Well I didn’t have a relationship when I was your age.” He said. You raised your eyebrow at him.

“Well of course you didn’t date someone, you were too busy bringing different girls home every night.”Dr Strange said smirking.

"Ok why is the magician here? " Tony said rolling his eyes. Strange winked at you while smiling and left the room with his breakfast.

Tony walked around the couch and came in front of you both and looked at you two. After a moment of silence he came and sat between you both.

"So what are we watching?" He said turning the T. V on.

You looked at Peter behind your dad's head and pointed your head towards the hallway. Since your dad had the remote he was probably gonna watch something of his choice while sitting between you both so why not go to your room.

You stood up from the couch and began walking away towards you room.

"Hey where are you going? " Your dad asked.

"Well i have to go soon so well probably complete some work" Peter said.

"Are you though? I know you guys aren't gonna do anything" Your dad smirked.

"What that's not true. " You said with faux offence.

"Well i don't want to walk in your room and see you both smooching each others head off. "

"Dad!"

_

You were just finishing up your work when you heard peters phone ring.

"looks like i gotta go babe. " He said getting up from thr floor.

"Aw so soon. Can i convince May to let you live here?" You chuckled.

"Well I'll meet you tomorrow at college" Peter said rubbing your back and smiling at you.

You both walked outside and went to the front door of the tower.

"Bye then. Stay safe, I love you. " You said kissing his lips.

"I love you too. " Peter said.

You guys kissed each other for a sec after pulling back.

"Underoos I told you not to kiss my daughter! " You heard your dad scream and watched how Peter opened the door and ran away.

"Love you, Y/N !" Peter screamed.

You chuckled and shaked your head watching Tony chase him.

--

[spider-jaysart]

Are you a tea, coffee, hot chocolate, chocolate milk, or straight milk person?

I associate you with Jon Kent and Peter Parker.

You are so much fun and so very kind.

Would you rather have to never go outside in the day or have to never go outside at night?

@adalineozie

Hmmm, well I'm not really a big fan of chocolate milk, so I like having regular milk. I'm not able to really drink milk pure since I'm lactose intolerant though, but I do usually like to have it with my favorite cereal Rice Krispies and vanilla milkshakes as well when I go out! :D

Cool! They are my favorite boys!! (Don't worry, Damian, I love you the same too lol💖)

Awwww thank you so very much! That is very nice to hear!💙💗💙

Never have to go outside at night, since it's not always so safe to be out that late, so I'd love to just always go out in the day instead, especially since that's usually my favorite time of the day and because I love seeing the happy, beautiful sunshine of the sun and hearing the liveliness of the people during the day!💖💙💖💙💖

Thanks for the ask, adaline!💖 :D

#spider-jaysart asks

[lemonlillybee]

Whumptober Day 28

Title: It’s Just the Tip of the Iceberg 

Prompt: Headache @whumptober

Fandom: Spider-Man (MCU)

Word Count: 913

A/N: I also used this tumblr prompt and will be expanding this drabble to a longer story that will be posted next month

Read on AO3

It’s not all bad, at first.

At first, becoming Spider-Man is the best thing that’s ever happened to Peter Parker. He doesn’t hate his life, but he doesn’t love it, either, and when he gets bitten by a radioactive spider and gains the ability to climb walls, he feels like he maybe finally has a purpose beyond getting stuffed into his locker on a daily basis. 

The strength alone is both incredible and dizzyingly terrifying. He knows what kind of  things he could do with this kind of strength, and it doesn't seem like a high schooler should really have that kind of power. He likes the power, though. The spider bite does things to his body that make him feel powerful, and alive, and when he starts to use it to help people in his neighborhood it makes him feel as if he can finally see a future for himself that doesn’t depend on how much money his aunt doesn’t have.

It also means that he has to keep secrets from his aunt and he’s always cold and he gets beat up at school by Flash and also at night by thugs in dark alleyways when he makes a mistake. It means he has to sneak around at school to make web fluid and hide stab wounds and pretend like he can’t do push ups in P.E. It means he has to constantly eat food to fuel his new body. 

It takes him a while to adjust to his new metabolism. 

May can’t afford to feed a regular teenager, let alone a superpowered one, so he tries to get by on cheap ramen and dry cereal and canned vegetables and goes to bed so hungry his stomach feels like it’s trying to eat itself. 

Sometimes, he gets free food from people he helps when he’s Spider-Man. Today, he gets a hotdog and a bag of chips from a man who dropped his keys into a storm drain and he swings home to eat the meal. He can hear May out in the kitchen as he shoves the food into his face and quickly changes out of his suit.

“Peter? Is that you? Are you home?”

He dashes out of his room and finds her packing her bag for work.

“Hi, May,” he greets her, and she pulls him into a quick hug, kissing the side of his head and laughing when he rolls his eyes and ducks away.

“I’ll make you something for dinner before I head out,” she says, going to the pantry and rummaging around for a moment. Peter knows there isn’t anything in there though, because they haven’t gone grocery shopping for the week yet. 

“I already ate!” He says, and May pops her head around the pantry door to raise an eyebrow at him.

“When?” 

“With Ned,” he says, and it isn’t a complete lie because he sat with Ned during lunch earlier at school. 

May nods and looks like she might say something else, but then she checks the time on her phone and grabs her bag and kisses Peter’s head again and he calls out “I larb you too, May” after her as she leaves and it’s the exact same conversation they have every day.   

Every day, for six months, he marvels in his new powers and helps people in the city and tries to eat enough food to not pass out. 

And then, Tony Stark comes into his life.

After Germany, he starts to patrol more. He burns more energy. And Tony Stark– Iron Man– feeds him. And at first, it’s great. It’s perfect. It’s exactly what his body needs. He gets whole pizzas to himself and he finds snacks in his backpack and there’s suddenly money in his lunch account at school. He has a few bumps in the road, sure, and makes a few mistakes, but being Spider-Man is the best thing that ever happened to him and he wouldn’t trade it for anything. 

Then, the headaches start.

One year into being Spider-Man, Peter starts to discover the bad things. Keeping secrets starts to get messy. Ned finds out, and he doesn’t tell anyone about his secret, but he does start to ask questions and Peter doesn’t know if he wants to share all of the answers.

Some days, he skips lunch and some days, he eats enough food to feed an army and it still isn’t enough, and every single day he’s just really, really fucking tired of having to think about food all the time. He gets a headache when he doesn't eat enough. He gets a headache when Tony makes him eat every few hours. 

When May finds out about Spider-Man, and about his metabolism, the guilt is almost too much for Peter to take. She tries to get a second job. She and Tony argue for hours on end about who should pay for the food Peter eats. They scream at each other. Peter screams at them both, but they don’t listen to him. He just has to listen to them. 

If he has to listen to May or Tony or even Ned nag him about eating one more time, he’s going to explode. 

So, Peter does what he does best. He hides as much as he can. He hides injuries. He hides how weak he’s starting to get. He hides the headaches. He lies about eating. 

He tries not to explode. 

He’s one meal away from exploding.

#whumptober2022 #no.28 #headache #implied eating disorder #food issues #spider-man (mcu) #drabble #metabolism #peter parker whump #whump

[arachnidiots-a]

CHARACTER QUIRKS & HABITS -- liam & peter BOLD  what  applies. ITALICIZE  what  sometimes  applies.  STRIKE  what  doesn’t. REPOST  &  DON’T REBLOG.

liam kaz

likes  artificial  watermelon,   sleeps  in  what  they  are  already  wearing,   eats  their  cereal  with  milk,   listens  to  music  with  earbuds,  hates  the  summer,  can  recite  past  the  first  four  digits  of  pi,  eats  frosting  out  of  the  jar ,   doodles  on  their  notebooks,  can  bake  cookies,  has  a  garden farm,   has  had  a  snowball  fight,  eats  pancakes  without  syrup,  prefers  shorts  over  pants,  can  name  more  than  ten  superheroes,  has  a  plan  for  the  zombie  apocalypse,  uses  the  same  password  for  everything,  can’t  hold  their  breath  for  more  than  fifteen  seconds,  watches  anime,  hasn’t  read  harry  potter,  can  say  ‘  i  love  you  ‘  in  more  than  one  language,  prefers  mechanical  pencils,  thinks  space  is  cool,  takes  personality  tests  more  than  once  to  make  sure,  can’t  tie  their  shoelaces,  has  a  purse,  likes  salads,  likes  cool  colors  better  than  warm  colors,   knows  how  to  braid  hair,  reads  biographies,   can  ice  skate,  knows  their  mbti,  reads  astrology  charts,  prefers  the  star  wars  prequels  to  the  original  trilogy,   plays  video  games,  reads  the  newspaper,   likes  chocolate  ice  cream  best ,  doesn’t  cuss,  memorizes  song  lyrics,  collects  coupons,   has  a  preferred  order  at  starbucks,   likes  movie  theater  popcorn,   has  seen  a  play,  listens  to  music  with  headphones,    owns  a  hoodie ,   would  rather  own  cds  than  online  copies,   has  written  a  poem,  can  shuffle  cards,  subscribes  to  a  magazine,  double  dips  when  eating,  drinks  directly  out  of  the  milk  container,  keeps  a  journal.

peter parker

likes  artificial  watermelon,   sleeps  in  what  they  are  already  wearing,   eats  their  cereal  with  milk,   listens  to  music  with  earbuds,  hates  the  summer,  can  recite  past  the  first  four  digits  of  pi,  eats  frosting  out  of  the  jar ,   doodles  on  their  notebooks,  can  bake  cookies,  has  a  garden farm,   has  had  a  snowball  fight,  eats  pancakes  without  syrup,  prefers  shorts  over  pants,  can  name  more  than  ten  superheroes,  has  a  plan  for  the  zombie  apocalypse,  uses  the  same  password  for  everything,  can’t  hold  their  breath  for  more  than  fifteen  seconds,  watches  anime,  hasn’t  read  harry  potter,  can  say  ‘  i  love  you  ‘  in  more  than  one  language,  prefers  mechanical  pencils,  thinks  space  is  cool,  takes  personality  tests  more  than  once  to  make  sure,  can’t  tie  their  shoelaces,  has  a  purse,  likes  salads,  likes  cool  colors  better  than  warm  colors,   knows  how  to  braid  hair,  reads  biographies,   can  ice  skate,  knows  their  mbti,  reads  astrology  charts,  prefers  the  star  wars  prequels  to  the  original  trilogy,   plays  video  games,  reads  the  newspaper,   likes  chocolate  ice  cream  best ,  doesn’t  cuss,  memorizes  song  lyrics,  collects  coupons,   has  a  preferred  order  at  starbucks,   likes  movie  theater  popcorn,   has  seen  a  play,  listens  to  music  with  headphones,    owns  a  hoodie ,   would  rather  own  cds  than  online  copies,   has  written  a  poem,  can  shuffle  cards,  subscribes  to  a  magazine,  double  dips  when  eating,  drinks  directly  out  of  the  milk  container,  keeps  a  journal.

𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦: @taissakingston 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠: i stole it so you should too!

#PBP. STILL TURNING OUT / headcanons #LK. BELIEVE / headcanons

[aidendh]

Incarnate Ideas p1

RAU = Incarnate from birth

REAU = My heroes reborn

Haikyuu! RAU Tsukishima

My persona / Aiden

Pink eyes, stubborn, loves his brother

Kei Tsukishima

Akiteru Tsukishima(brother)

Talks brother into cheering team on together

'Short Cut' unconscious teleportation

Bnha REAU Sero

Error / Erratum

mentally unstable, magic, refuses to take part in fights unless life or death, possessive over friends,hates being touched, loves chocolate

Bnha REAU Kaminari

Clef RWBY oc

Bnha REAU Kaminari

Meliodis /, SDS

Bnha REAU Kaminari

Mentei Fuantaru / Asylum Monoma AU

Bnha RAU Shoto Todoroki

Ban /, Sds

Bnha REAU Mashirao Ojiro

Chujitsu Tsubasa / EWP AU

Bnha REAU Katsuki Bakugo

Katsuki Bakugo / EWP AU

Bnha REAU Shoto Todoroki

Unstable! RAU! Dabi/Toya

Bnha REAU Hanta Sero

Peter Parker / Spider Man

Bnha REAU Neito Monoma

Discord /(camp) mlp

Bnha RAU Neito Monoma

Often predicts things

Knows a lot

Suspected of traitor but not

Sometimes booted from lunch table

Mutuals with Hitoshi as ↑ lunch buddies

BSD RAU Kenji Miyazawa

Brown tuft?

Takes life or death seriously (dasi won't suicide talk around him again)

BSD RAU Junichiro Tanizaki

BSD RAU Chuya Nakahara

Dasi knows he's an incarnate but neither have said it out loud

When Dasi leaves the Port Mafia, Chuya joins him

Often teased for being girly

Gay bean

BSD/Bnha RAU! Junichiro → Midoriya

Memory vauge until 5

Late bloomer; Light Snow

Protective of mother

BSD! REAU Shoto Todoroki

Osamu Dazai (burned to death)(out of control suicide)

Ability doesn't work on Quirks, but on stuff like

BSD! RAU! REAU! Toshinori Yagi

RAU! Fyodor Dostoevsky

Won't attack those he sees as his children

REAU Todoroki/Clawacorn

went through the stages alone and was absent for 2 days, keeps fighting style but needs to unlock Todoroki soul magic and ask Momo for 2 sword

REAU Todoroki/Nastu

went through the stages with fuyomi and was absent for 2 days, stuck with previous life persona as dominant, still can stomouch fire

REAU Sero/Sans

REAU Bakugo/Chara(misunderstood)

REAU Kaminari/Kirito

REAU Kirishima/Killer Mage

Enjoys causing pain, fear of hurting others, Bakugo reminds him of past sister, watched his family tourchered and was then killed, only calmer around Bakugo

{MAKE INTO OC ↑}, black or red hair in low ponytail, earth dragon slayer magic(former/emergency's) and dark magic

REAU Kirishima/Sadao(Satan) DIAPT

REAU Bakugo/Kyo Sohma (Fruits Basket)

cat curse, still has beads, closer to Koda and Kirishima, more affectionate towards family as curse is excepted, told no one about monster/beads

REAU Iida/Aren

Nanbaka! RAU! Uno

CSD! RAU! Crackle/Graham

- Only looses memories of time at VILE but not the show

Or

?Only gains memories when the erasure happens?

CSD! RAU! Player

REAU! Izuku Midoriya

RAU! Chuuya Nakahara

Argue with Bakugo

SF 1) 1st cos ability 2) 1st Untouched in air

3) vs HS) "I'M 5CM'S TALLER!" W,

RAU! Junichiro → Asahi

No memories

Persona

Locked ability

RAU! Byakuya Togami

Gay, but hides it bc upbringing

Suke Harris//Akutagawa → RAU! Byakuya Togami

Left family

Ultimate Cosplayer

Real Name, Byakuya Togami

Uses fake name

OC! Hesko → Gundham Tanaka

REAU! Shoto Todoroki

(Isaac 'Zack' Foster)

Gets Zack's urges

Pyrophobia

Doesn't want to be a hero

¿Transfered to gened?

Still eats soda with cereal in dorms

'Homeless' bc 'flame' hero

Mina/Rachel (Camp)

Targeted at camp to be kidnapped

At Kamino, Mina saves him and gets Momo to make a scythe

Kills Shigaraki

Mina and Shoto are now on the run but still leave hint for their friends

Mina now has the dead eyes but still likes to emote

Allmight isn't alowd around Shoto (Smiles)

#aiden's aus #rau #reincarnation #oc #incarnate ideas #my heroes reborn