#Peter Parker x Ghost!reader

[lazydoodlesandfanfic]

Haunting Him (Peter Parker X Ghost!Reader) *PLATONIC

Characters: Peter Parker X Ghost!Reader

Universe: Marvel, Avengers, Spiderman

Warnings: Being Dead

Request: hi idk if requests are open but could you write a peter parker x reader. But the reader is a ghost of the girl who died in the apartment him and May live in. she has all of the typical ghostly powers, maybe towards the beginning peter can't see her but he slowly starts to and she follows him to school and kinda all around,and just bugs him all day kind of like a poltergeist. Then he realizes that she would be a big help to spiderman so he tries to kind of recruit her. thx srry abt the details!

For a long time, you were stuck in a sort of Limbo. You knew you were dead, you remembered dying, and then it was just darkness for a very long time. A very long time. But eventually, something changed.

It was like you woke up. You woke up where you died in that apartment, and you immediately noticed the massive change in the place. The entire interior was different, your family were gone, and now it was occupied by an older woman and a boy about your age.

You were weak at first. They couldn’t see you, they’d walk straight though you, and you couldn’t interact with anything. However, as the weeks passed, and with boredom mixed with determination, you eventually gained the strength to slowly but surely move things, as well as make them feel your presence through cold spots, especially when they passed through you. You also noticed the boy- who you’d learned was called Peter- noticed your presence more, so you targeting him more.

Your presence became more and more evident to him- Peter caught glimpses of you in the corner of his eye, in the mirror and he became aware of things moving around his room, though it was mostly you playing with his stuff, bored, until he actually caught you at the end of the hall staring at him, and he stared back until his Aunt called him, and when he looked back, you were gone.

When that happened, you tried even harder, focussing your entire self onto him, and you caught him staring in disbelief several times, until he actually confronted you at school. “Who are you? How do you keep showing up at my house and then disappearing!?” He whispered at you. You were took back, but smiled.

“You can actually see me? Wait- can you hear me?” You asked, astonished, though it only confused Peter further. “I’ve been trying to get you to notice me for months!” You told him excitedly.

“Peter who are you talking to?” Ned asked, distracting Peter, and when he looked back, you were gone again, though he saw you hours later, waiting in his bedroom.

“Who. Are. You.” He demanded at you.

“I’m called Y/N L/N. I used to live in this apartment.” You explained to him. Now that confused Peter.

“How? My Aunt May has lived here longer than you’ve been alive.” He questioned you, and you bit your lip.

“Well I think she moved in after my family moved out… when I died.” You explained softly.

Now Peter didn’t believe you at first. But it all seemed to click the more he thought about it. The things moving, the cold spots, the way you just disappeared, your reaction to him speaking to you, and your clothes- they were so old fashioned. But he wasn’t completely convinced yet.

“Aunt May?” He asked one night during dinner. “Before you moved into the apartment, do you know anything about the people who used to live here?” He asked. “I-It’s just that I think I found something they might have left behind- it would be cool to track them down and give it back.” He excused.

“Well…” You thought allowed, leaning on the table. “I remember the agent had to tell me that the family that used to live here had a daughter- about your age, but she died apparently, and not long after, the family moved out.”

Okay, now he believed you, and next time he saw you, he was pale. “You were telling the truth?” He asked, and you nodded. “Why have you only just started showing up now? Has someone like, disturbed you or something?” He asked.  You shrugged.

“I don’t know. I don’t think I’ve ever been at rest. Everything was just… dark… for a really long time, and only recently did I seem to wake up. I couldn’t really do much, but when I could, I noticed you responded more to me, so I just kept trying. Now I can actually move stuff, move around.” You explained.

Any aggravation he had towards you turned into deep curiosity, and it became a sort of trade. Your link to him and his knowing of your existence meant soon you were able to exist around him without actually having to focus on him, you just had to be near him and he’d sense and see you. You would ask him questions about new things that hadn’t been around when you were alive, and in return he’d question and test what you were able to do- even trying to help you get stronger. Of course, when you’re basically stuck around someone, there was the petty arguments. You’d distract him in lesson and made him talk to thin air, and then disappear before he could blow a fuse on you, which just ticked him off further. He also threatened to call in an exorcist, or lock his bedroom off with salt. However, you also used it to help him, giving him answers to questions from the front of the class, keeping him company in detention, and you were genuinely friends most of the time.

“Is there any way you can make yourself appear to others?” Peter asked. You were both hanging out in his bedroom, him from the ceiling, you upside down on the bed. You had quickly learned of his superhero past time, helping him now and then by shoving things in front of thieves to knock them over.

“I think so. Your Aunt is aware of my presence when she passes through me, because of the cold spots. I bet if I focus hard enough I could get her to notice me.” You explained. “Why?” You asked.

“Well I was thinking… you can move things with your powers, your practically invisible most of the time… If we can prove that you’re actually here and not part of my imagination, then I guess we could find a way to recruit you?” He explained his theory.

“Peter I don’t think ‘Mr Stark’ would be willing to recruit a poltergeist that’s haunting another recruit.” You teased.

“It’s worth a shot, worse comes to worse, you can be my sidekick.” He offered, and you threw a book at him, though it missed.

“Like hell am I being your side kick you dweeb!”

“Peter, who’s she?” You shot around to see Ned standing there, holding a box with the newest Lego Star wars ship on the front, staring at you in awe. “She’s your side kick?” He asked.

“Wait, you can see me?” You asked back, and he nodded, his mouth still slightly agape. You looked at Peter, who was just as surprised. “Well uh, hi Ned, I’m Y/N, and I’m a girl who died in this apartment and now haunts Peter.”  You explained a little too calmly for Ned, who was quick to pale, and faint.

Hope you like it! If you have any questions, please send them in!

*Not my gif

TAGS:  @courtneychicken  @graysonmalfoy @bellero​ @ariennisimpressed @captain-peanut-at-your-service @sebstanchrisevanchickforever19 @imbuckypositive  @abbybills22 @waywardemo

#marvel #Avengers #spiderman #Spider-Man: Homecoming #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x fem!reader #peter parker x ghost!reader #tony stark #ned leeds #x reader #x fem!reader #x ghost!reader #reader #Female reader #ghost!reader #one shot #writing #story writing #question #request #Questions #ask me anything #ask me questions #send me questions #Please send me stuff #please send me asks

[ghostedgwen]

[1] p.parker tiktok (prank) blurb

𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾 : 𝖨 𝗌𝖺𝗐 𝖺 𝖿𝖾𝗐 𝗍𝗂𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗄𝗌 𝗈𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝖿𝗒𝗉 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗋𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗈 𝖨 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝗒 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗍𝗋𝗒 𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝖺𝗏𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝖻𝗎𝗀 𝖻𝗈𝗒?  𝗅𝖾𝗍 𝗆𝖾 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗂𝖿 𝗂 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝖽𝗈 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗂𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗄 𝗍𝗋𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝖻𝗅𝗎𝗋𝖻𝗌 𝖻𝖼 𝗂 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗌𝗈 𝗆𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝗂𝖽𝖾𝖺𝗌!

𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗉𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗄 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖻𝗒 "𝖺𝖼𝖼𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒" 𝗍𝖾𝗑𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗆 : "𝗁𝖾'𝗌 𝗀𝗈𝗇𝖾, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗇𝗈𝗐" 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗏𝖾𝗌

You were cuddling Peter when the idea struck you, you've seen the video once and you highly doubt he's seen it when your TikTok algorithms were completely different - so you were very confident you wouldn't be found out.

He's supposed to leave in a bit to start his patrol, and for now you're both killing time. You lay on top of him, your back resting on his chest, and you're both on your phones. You're absent-mindedly scrolling on twitter - already laughing at what reaction he will have.

Then it's time for him to leave. He gets up and presses a kiss to your forehead, "Duty calls." He winks and you roll your eyes at him half-heartedly. "I promise to give you flowers that are not mangled when I get back."

"If they're mangled - I accept apologies in kisses."

He narrows his eyes at you, "Now I don't know if I even wanna make sure they look presentable when I come home."

You laugh at that. Watching him strip and put the suit on, walking over to the window, and sliding it open. He turns to give you one more look before setting off into the city - "Don't miss me too much."

"I'll try." You say with a grin, and he's out the window.

You hold back your laughter, waiting for at least 5 minutes to pass so it's a little more believable. While you waited - you hurriedly changed into a new set of clothes - getting rid of the sweatpants and hoodie combo and even applying makeup.

All of that under 5 minutes was a challenge which you managed to complete - then you sent him the text "accidentally".

Peter knew the text was from you, having set a specific ringtone for your calls and messages. He would take a break from swinging and rest on a rooftop, you texting him the moment he leaves made him think he forgot something.

He pulls his phone out and frowns at the text.

He's gone, you can come over <3

Now, he would have dismissed it as a mistake - had the heart not been there. That was supposed to be reserved for him. Without even thinking twice, he is already swinging back and you set the camera up just in time that he didn't see you.

You walk around the kitchen, pulling out the wine bottle, and he squints at you from the window. He didn't wanna go in just yet, he wanted to check if you had set up some surprise - but it wasn't even his birthday.

He couldn't help jumping in through the living room window overlooking the city when he caught sight of you in that red dress. You didn't even have to act surprised because your heart leapt out of your chest at his entrance.

"Jesus christ! Peter!" You yell, almost dropping the bottle.

"What's with the get up?" He asked cautiously.

You look down at yourself and then back up at him, a look of conflict painted on your features and that's when his thoughts began spiralling.

"Oh - uhh this? I'm uhh - " There's really no need to even bother putting up an act when you're genuinely stammering, you did not prepare well for this and he caught you off guard with his entrance. "Just - uhm. . ."

"I think you sent me a message by mistake," He spoke very stiffly, like he forced those words out of his mouth. "Who's coming over, babe?"

You scrunch your nose up and take a step backwards. "No one - I was just gonna have a self care night while you patrol."

It's very helpful that he has a mask on - seeing the expression on his face would make it harder for you to keep going.

"______. Who's coming over?"

There was an edge to your voice and before this can take a darker and sadder turn, you drop the act. Bursting into laughter and walking over to your phone placed a few feet away. You made sure that it only showed you in it but Peter's voice could still be heard so you still have the reaction documented.

You grab the phone and make a peace sign at it. "My fake mistress who is tall and pretty and smart."

You can see his tensed figure ease up, he pull the mask off his face and you laughed at the look of complete relief on his face. You're still laughing even as he tackled you into a hug, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you up slightly off the ground.

"Holy shit, you scared me." He breathed out, before peppering your face with kisses and your phone has stopped recording by now.

"I'm sorry." You say through your giggles.

He kisses your cheek. "Don't." Your nose. "Ever." and your other cheek. "Do that." And lastly your lips. "Again."

"I don't know, I might - your reaction was priceless." You smirk at him and he rolls his eyes at you. This was done on a whim but you got a pretty good laugh out of it and a valuable memory that you shall hold over him forever. "I can't believe you really had to swing all the way back."

"Shut up."

masterlist

#ghosted blurbs #peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter x reader #tasm! peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker #tasm fanfiction #tasm fic #tasm!spiderman x reader #spider-man #andrew!peter #andrew garfield #andrew!peter x reader #andrew garfield fanfiction #andrew garfield peter parker #spider-man x reader #spider-man imagines #the amazing spider man #tom!peter #tom!peter x reader #tobey!peter #tobey!peter x reader #tom holland #tobey maguire

[bingoboingobongo]

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hiii, thank you for visiting my masterlist! if you have any questions about my masterlist and what i write, please feel free to ask or see if your question is answered in these faqs! happy reading :)

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[wizardofrozz]

Prompt 26: Ouija Board

Peter Parker x Stark!Reader, Tony Stark, Bucky Barnes, MJ, Ned Leeds, Steve Rogers

Word Count: 2,607

Warnings: swearing, slight violence

A/N: The ghost I based this off of is a specter which feeds off any grudges people hold. Also, Peter, MJ, Ned, and Reader are college age in this fic. 

The compound was quiet despite most of the team being scattered around the building. (Y/N) wandered towards the communal kitchen, scrolling through an email from one of her professors, when a sudden shadow stretched down the hall.

           “There you are,” Tony huffed, leaning against the wall.

           “Hey, dad,” (Y/N) called, not looking up from her phone.

           “Peter’s been pestering me nonstop about when you’d be back from class,” Tony sighed, falling in step with her when she passed.

           “I’m guessing he’s in the lab,” (Y/N) giggled, leaning into her father momentarily. Tony rolled his eyes but looped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer to press a kiss to her head.

           “Don’t steal him for long,” Tony grumbled, leaning his cheek against her head.

           “Fine,” (Y/N) laughed, bumping hips with Tony, smiling up at him.

(Y/N) peaked into the lab, watching Peter sifting through files on the computer’s projection, the blue lights illuminating his already bright smile. She stood in the doorway, a small smile tugging at her lips as she admired her handsome boyfriend; Peter glanced up when he felt eyes on him, catching her staring.

           “Hi, sweetheart,” Peter called, smiling wider, causing wrinkles to form under his eyes.

           “Whatcha doin’ cutie?” (Y/N) pushed into the lab, hopping up onto the table next to him, her legs swinging as she scanned the projected blueprints.

           “Making some tweaks to our project before Ned gets here,” Peter replied, closing the space between them, fitting his waist between her knees.

           “Dad’s letting Ned in here?” (Y/N) gasped, meeting Peter’s sparkling brown eyes.

           “MJ too,” Peter hummed, nodding.

           “No way.” (Y/N) gaped at him, nearly missing his hands settling on her thighs, his fingers drumming against her jeans.

           “Yes, way,” Tony snickered from the doorway. (Y/N) looked over her shoulder, gaping at her father instead. “I’ve already had both of them check out, and I figured you could use a bit of fun. College has been kicking your ass.”

           “Holy shit,” (Y/N) laughed, a smile spreading across her face. “You’re serious.”

           “Yes,” Tony sighed, wandering into the lab, pausing to smack Peter’s hands away from (Y/N)’s thighs. Peter’s cheeks took on a faint pink color, and he shuffled back some, moving out from between (Y/N)’s legs. “But they’re not allowed to just wander or bother the others.”

           “Deal,” (Y/N) exclaimed, throwing her arms around Tony’s neck, yanking him into a hug. Tony laughed against her shoulder, gently wrapping his arms around his daughter, letting his eyes fall closed to enjoy the moment.

           “And don’t destroy anything,” Tony mumbled, squeezing (Y/N) one more time before releasing her.

           “Promise,” (Y/N) giggled, winking at her boyfriend. Peter raised his hands, taking a step back and shaking his head, his eyes widening comically.

           “Yeah, right, don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Tony snorted, turning his back on the pair.

           “Come on,” (Y/N) groaned, dragging Peter towards the lobby of the compound.

           “Baby,” Peter whined, dragging his feet. (Y/N) stopped abruptly, turning on a pouting Peter; she chuckled, kissing his pouted lips until he huffed through his nose, melting into the kiss. “You’re not helping,” Peter mumbled against her lips, pulling her flush against him.

           “Get a room!” Peter and (Y/N) broke apart but stayed pressed together, turning their heads towards where MJ was standing with a mischievous grin.

           “I can’t really run off to my room now,” (Y/N) shot back, her lips twitching up.

           “Ew,” MJ mumbled, shaking her head, her smile growing. (Y/N) peeled herself away from Peter and ran for her friend, engulfing her in a tight hug.

           “Dude,” Ned started, pushing through the lobby doors, heading straight for Peter, “I can’t believe you get to work here.”

           “I don’t work for Mr. Stark,” Peter grumbled, crossing his arms. “He lets me work on projects here, that’s all.”

           “Whatever,” Ned scoffed, wandering farther into the compound. MJ and (Y/N) separated, watching Ned wander around awestruck while Peter glared at him.

           “Hey!” The four jumped, spinning on their heels towards the low voice; (Y/N) rolled her eyes while Peter, MJ, and Ned stood frozen, looking guilty like they broke in instead of being invited. Bucky and Steve moved out of the shadows, barely containing their laughter; (Y/N) crossed her arms, popping a hip out and glaring at the super-soldiers.

Bucky had started to unwind as time passed, but (Y/N) knew his part in her grandparents’ murders still bothered him. On bad days, he had a hard time looking at her without guilt nearly crushing him. Today seemed like a good day, and the brunette gave her a boyish smile, mirth dancing in his eyes to match Steve.

           “Shit heads,” (Y/N) shouted, sticking her tongue out as the pair approached her.

           “Do you hear this, Buck?” Steve gasped, clutching his chest, looking over at his best friend.

           “Vicious,” Bucky chirped, shaking his head in fake disappointment.

           “Shut up,” (Y/N) chuckled, pulling them both in for a hug. Bucky and Steve’s chins rested on each of her shoulders, squeezing her close before taking a step back; Peter had moved away from MJ and Ned, smiling at the two super-soldiers.

           “Whatcha kids doin’?” Bucky asked, clapping a hand on Peter’s shoulder, pulling him into a side hug. He narrowed his eyes at MJ and Ned, chewing on his bottom lip to hold in a smile, but from where they stood, it looked like he was glaring at them, and they stiffened.

           “Stop harassin’ them, Buck,” Steve laughed, elbowing his friend. “Ned. MJ,” Steve greeted with a smile. They sputtered, glancing at each other and (Y/N) slapped a hand over her mouth to cover her laugh, glancing at Peter still tucked under Bucky’s arm.

           “My dad told them your names,” (Y/N) provided, shouldering Steve. “Now get outta here, you two; we’re supposed to leave the team alone, and that’s kinda hard with you here.”

           “Alright, alright,” Steve laughed, holding his hands up in surrender. “Be good.”

           “Yeah, yeah,” (Y/N) sighed, rolling her eyes playfully. Steve started to walk away, and Bucky followed, dragging a stuttering Peter with him and turning his head just enough for (Y/N) to see his smirk. “Barnes, you can’t steal my boyfriend!”

           “Wanna bet?” Bucky laughed, raising a challenging brow at her. Peter stared wide-eyed at Bucky before glancing at (Y/N), looking half scared and half excited; Bucky shook his head and released Peter, turning to follow Steve. He waved without turning back, but his shoulders shook with laughter; Peter stared after him confused before stumbling back to (Y/N).

           “I can’t believe you know Captain America and the Winter Soldier,” Ned mumbled absently from behind her, watching the best friends round the corner.

           “They’re giant dorks,” she snorted, wiggling under Peter’s arm. “Come on, let’s go upstairs before any of the other team members give you two a heart attack.”

After Peter and Ned made a beeline for the lab to check on their project blueprints, MJ and (Y/N) decided to lounge around (Y/N)’s room. MJ started digging through the closet, ignoring (Y/N)’s complaining; after a few minutes, MJ sat back on her heels, holding a rectangular box against her thighs.

           “Woah,” MJ breathed, tracing letters on the smooth surface.

           “What,” (Y/N) mumbled, rolling onto her side.

           “Where’d you get the Ouija board?” MJ held the box over her head, shaking it; (Y/N) narrowed her eyes, thinking about where it came from.

           “Oh, Natasha bought it as a gag gift. She thought it would be funny to see if anything was haunting the old tower.”

           “Have you used it?” MJ asked, raising a brow.

           “Nah,” (Y/N) hummed, swinging her legs over the side of her bed.

        ��  “Want to?” MJ’s lips pulled into an evil grin as she wiggled her eyebrows; (Y/N) chewed on her lip, a small part of her brain telling her how bad of an idea it could be, but she nodded with a sigh. MJ jumped to her feet, clutching the box to her chest with one arm as she grabbed (Y/N)’s wrist and pulled her out of the room. (Y/N) prayed she wasn’t going to regret this.

           “Are you sure this is a good idea?” Peter mumbled, his brown eyes boring into the side of (Y/N)’s head. The four of them were hunched over the board on the floor of one of the empty conference rooms, their fingers barely touching the plastic indicator as they slid it towards ‘hello’.

           “A little late now,” Ned sighed.

           “Is there anyone here?” MJ asked, ignoring her friends’ protests. They all froze when the piece of plastic started to move across the board, the transparent window hovering over ‘yes’ before going still again.

           “What’s your name?” (Y/N) tried, biting her lip as soon as the words spilled from her mouth. It took a few seconds before the indicator started to move again, pausing on ‘B’ briefly before moving again.

           “You better not be pushing it,” Peter whimpered, glancing around at his friends, but they were all staring at the board.

           “B. E. T. R,” (Y/N) mumbled to herself as the little window paused over ‘A’. The movements kept getting faster, pulling the piece of plastic towards ‘Y’ before starting across the board again to stop on ‘A’. The indicator settled on ‘L’ before stopping completely; the group sat transfixed, staring at the board.

“Betrayal?” MJ muttered, lifting her head to meet (Y/N)’s eyes, but they were still cast down. Peter’s eyes flickered between MJ and (Y/N) before settling on his girlfriend, who was staring down at their hands, her expression slowly morphing from shock to something darker.

(Y/N) started to shiver slightly, her fingers twitching on the plastic indicator; Peter didn’t want to lift his fingers just yet, but (Y/N)’s shifting mood was starting to worry him. He finally caved, moving his hands away from the Ouija board, reaching for his girlfriend, but she slumped back, just out of his reach, her chin resting on her chest. Peter pulled his hand back, blinking at her before turning his gaze on MJ and Ned, who looked just as spooked.

           “(Y/N)?” Peter whispered, hesitantly reaching for her. (Y/N)’s head snapped up, foggy, unfocused eyes blinking back at Peter until she suddenly stood, calmly walking out of the room. “(Y/N)!” Peter yelled, jumping to his feet. He could hear MJ and Ned scrambling after him; he ran down the hall, cutting her off, holding onto her shoulders.

She squinted at him, glancing down at her hands, her lips twitching enough to flash white teeth before she shoved Peter aside with more strength than even he had. Peter’s back hit the wall, his head snapping back hard enough to make him see stars, his vision blurring as he watched (Y/N) stalk down the hall.

           “Peter!” MJ yelled, her blurry face appearing in front of him. “What the hell's going on?” Peter’s mind swam as he tried to get his thoughts straight again, his head falling back, leaving him to stare up at the ceiling, and that’s when it hit him.

           “FRIDAY!”

           “Yes, Mr. Parker?” the AI replied instantly.

           “Alert Mr. Stark and the rest of the team that somethings wrong with (Y/N) and keep me updated on where she’s going, please,” Peter ordered, pushing away from the wall. He stumbled a little, waving off MJ’s attempt to steady him, and shook his head to clear the black spots.

           “Miss Stark is arriving in the common room now,” FRIDAY provided.

Peter took off running, glancing over his shoulder to yell, “stay here!” before rounding the corner. He slid into the common room minutes later, coming to an abrupt halt when he caught sight of (Y/N) staring down at the back of Bucky’s head. He noticed a dark substance leaking from her ear, only making his gut-wrenching feeling clamp down harder.

           “(Y/N)? Sweetheart?” Peter called, taking slow steps closer. Her head snapped up, her eyes swirling with rage; Bucky, Steve, and Sam snapped to attention at Peter’s voice. Bucky jumped out of his chair after noticing how close (Y/N) was behind him. Tony’s voice echoed down the hall as he called for his daughter but (Y/N) didn’t seem to care as her head swiveled back to Bucky.

           “You,” she growled, stalking after the super-soldier, backing him towards the window across the room. “They’re dead because of you!” She swung at Bucky, her entire body launching forward, but he dodged it, ducking under her arm, moving away from the window. Steve and Sam started after her, but Bucky waved them off frantically, his eyes darting back to her.

           “(Y/N), what are you talking about?” Bucky tried, lifting his hands passively.

           “You killed them like they were nothing,” she taunted, closing in on him again. Something seemed to click in Bucky’s head, his face falling when he realized what she meant.

           “I’m so sorry,” Bucky croaked, his throat clicking as he swallowed again. Tony burst into the room just as (Y/N) let out a feral growl, swinging at Bucky’s head again. He smacked away the first punch, ducking and sidestepping when another followed it. “I wish I could take it back! Please know that.”

(Y/N) landed a kick to the side of his knee, sending him to the ground with a shout. “I don’t believe you,” she growled, pulling back to deliver another punch. Tony grabbed her arm, turning her to face him, his eyes darting around her face.

           “What’s wrong with you,” he gasped, his eyes zeroing in on the substance rolling down her neck.

           “Don’t make me hurt you,” she hissed, throwing Tony off with little effort. Tony distracting her gave Bucky an opening to move out from under her, stumbling towards where Peter stood gaping at his girlfriend.

           “Tony,” Steve whispered, appearing at Tony’s side, helping him to his feet. “We have to subdue her somehow.”

           “Don’t you dare hurt her!” Tony hissed, shoving Steve. He glanced over again as Bucky continued to dodge punches, gently pushing her back in an attempt not to hurt her.

           “We have to do something, Stark!” Steve barked, his jaw clenching and unclenching as his eyes followed the fight behind them.

           “Fuck,” Tony snapped, violently rubbing a hand over his face. “Barnes!” Bucky’s head snapped up, just barely getting his metal hand up in time to catch (Y/N)’s punch. “Flesh hand only.” Bucky’s brows pulled together as he shoved (Y/N) back, his eyes flickering between the two Starks as he walked backward; he blinked a few times when his brain caught up, regret already creasing the skin around his eyes.

           “I’m sorry, kid,” Bucky whispered. He jumped back to avoid another kick, pulling his right arm back in the process; he flinched when his fist connected, and she dropped to the floor. The room seemed to let out a breath when she didn’t move again, her eyes lids fluttering shut as she fell unconscious.

           “Someone want to explain what the fuck is going on?” Tony shouted, his eyes immediately finding Peter.

           “We, uh, we were…using a, uh, Ouija board,” Peter stammered, staring wide-eyed down at his girlfriend.

           “So you’re telling me she’s possessed by a fucking ghost!” Bucky panted, bracing his hands on his knees.

           “Maybe?” Peter squeaked, his shoulder coming up around his ears.

           “Great,” Tony shouted, throwing his hands up. The room fell silent again, the five Avengers exchanging worried and confused looks as they tried to make sense of what just happened. Fabric at Bucky’s feet rustled, and they all snapped into action, watching as (Y/N)’s eyes fluttered open, and she blinked at the men standing over her.

           “What the hell just happened to me?” (Y/N) whispered, her eyes quickly filling with tears.

Masterlist

Taglist:

@marvelfansworld​ 

#peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker #tony stark #stark!reader #bucky barnes #spooktober #ghost #steve rogers #mj #ned leeds #marvel #mcu #avengers compound #ouija board

[hufflepuffwritingstuff2]

Cryogenics and Kidnappings

Part 5

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3,  Part 4

Back at Y/N and her team’s base, everyone was scurrying around looking for their missing teammate.

“And you’re sure you didn’t see anything on the security cams?” Spider-Man asked.

“I’m telling you, it’s nothing but static,” Ghost-Spider answered, “whoever did this had to be a professional.”

“Are we positive she was kidnapped?” Squirrel-Girl’s tail twitched, “maybe she just went out on a snack run?”

“If she did, why isn’t she here by now?” Miles Morales challenged, “no snack run ever takes that long.”

“You’d be surprised,” Squirrel-Girl admitted quietly.

While everyone else was busy bickering, Gwenpool decided to take matters into her own hands. She jumped out of the room and landed in a world of cyberspace and code. She walked around aimlessly for a little bit, until she saw a string of code titled, “Cryogenics and Kidnappings: Some Assembly Required”. She opened the document with a touch of her finger, almost like a mouse cursor, and several words appeared. She read part one and was just about to follow the hyperlink to part two when she heard someone calling her name. Quickly, she jumped back into reality.

“Where were you?” Ghost-Spider demanded.

“Sorry, it’s just,” Gwenpool began, ‘I think I know who took Y/N. And you’re not gonna like it.”

“Who?” Spider-Man asked.

“The Avengers” Gwenpool answered.

There was a long, awkward silence that followed. At one point a teammate would open their mouth to speak, then close it slowly.

“How do you know?” Miles finally broke the silence.

“I… I just know. Trust me on this.” Gwenpool pleaded.

“Did someone say kidnapping?” An all-too familiar face entered the room, gaining a collective groan from everyone.

“Wade, what are you doing here?” Spider-Man sighed. “You’re a little old to be hanging out with us.”

“Nonsense,” the mercenary replied, “I know you love me. And this plotline looks exciting. I’m sure the author can age me down a little if it’s bothering you.”

Deadpool plopped down on the sofa. He fished something out of his pockets.

“Does anyone want gum?” He offered.

The team just stared at him in silence.

“Tough crowd,” he said, “more for me then.” He popped a stick of gum in his mouth.

“Can we get back to the main issue here?” Miles said impatiently, “If Y/N really has been taken by the Avengers, it must be for a good reason.”

“Maybe the Avengers are under mind control?” Squirrel-Girl suggested.

“Whatever the reason, we’re getting her back,” Spider-Man said, “Avengers or no Avengers.”

With that, everyone made preparations to infiltrate Avengers Tower.

Part 6

#marvel #spider-man #peter parker #miles morales #ghost spider #gwen stacy #gwenpool #deadpool #marvel fanfic #y/n #reader insert #marvel x reader

[nolaholland]

10 people, 10 fandoms!!

Peter Parker ~ Marvel

Diego Hargreeves ~ Umbrella Academy

Soap Mactavish ~ Call of Duty Modern Warfare

Jake Peralta ~ Brooklyn nine-nine

Markiplier ~ Youtube

Jake Sully ~ Avatar (2009)

Finnick odair ~ Hunger Games

Sheldon Cooper ~ Big Bang Theory

Hesh Walker ~ Call of Duty Ghosts

Jughead Jones ~ Riverdale

#marvel #diego hargreeves x reader #peter parker #avatar 2009 #hunger games #call of duty ghosts #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty #brooklyn nine nine #riverdale #big bang theory #markiplier #youtube

[darkothemapper]

Ones who dont know, I write Into the Spidervers X Male Reader story on Watpad so I was asking myself, do I every chapter of it put it here, on tumblur?

#Into the Spidervers #Spiderverse #Into the Spidervers X Male Reader #Gwen stacy x male reader #Spider Gwen #Miles Morales #Spiderman Noir #Spider-Ham #Peni Parker #Peter B Parker #Ghost-spider #Gwen stacy #Male reader #Reader

[ughseoks-main]

dancing with your ghost

peter parker x reader

summary: peter is out of your life, and you’re left dancing with his ghost instead of him

- based on the song ‘dancing with your ghost’ by sasha sloan -

word count: 850

warnings: pretty intense descriptions of sadness & anxiety for a lil bit. and a shit ton of angst. references to death if you interpret it that way

a/n: this is rlly sad. like. rlly sad dude. it’s cool tho! i’m super proud of this piece, so like, pls lmk what you think of it!!

this fic is meant to be ambiguous in the meaning! you can decide whether peter broke up with you or if he died in some sort of accident as you read. i have my personal beliefs of what happened, but i’m leaving it up to you guys to decide & interpret this how you want. let me know your thoughts!!

For weeks and weeks, you’d been yelling into your pillow, screaming at the world for how cruel it could be.

Tears would stream down your face, leaving salty streaks as you clutched the white pillow to your chest. Your heart was so heavy, you were sure that it was filled with lead. A pain tugged from deep inside of it, and waves of sadness crashed over you, leaving you helpless as the current threatened to drag you under.

Lifting your head, you gazed out of your sliding glass door, taking note of how the oranges and pinks blended together to form a smeared cotton-candy sunset. A few straggling clouds stretched across the horizon, making it look soft enough to reach out and touch.

Peter would’ve called it a heavenly view.

Suddenly, you were jerked underwater, the salty water filling your lungs as you struggled to breathe. His face haunted you behind your closed eyelids and his voice echoed loudly in your head, leaving you unable to escape the pain they both brought in their wake. A singular thought stood out amongst the chaos, blinking so brightly you thought you’d go blind.

Heaven only knows where you are now.

Your whole body shaking, you let out a scream, uncaring if you worried your neighbors. You just needed something, anything, to numb the pain of wanting him back.

Maybe you were holding on too tight to something that was hopeless; after all, it had been almost four months since Peter left your life. But what other choice did you have? It was the only thing you had left, so you clung to it like a lost child clings to their ragged, torn, and stained teddy bear, hoping it will somehow guide them home.

Wiping the snot and tears from your face, you picked up your phone and slid it open, typing out yet another text message for Peter. If someone were to slide up in your message history, they would see countless texts with no responses, pleading for him to just say something.

But you didn’t care.

“Baby, why’d you go away? I’m still your girl.”

Regrets crowded your mind as you hit send, sobs continuing to wrack your body; they screamed at you in anger, shaming you for everything you didn’t do.

If only you’d gotten to say your last goodbye.

You knew you had to move on, but it hurt too much to even try. Would you ever love someone like you’d loved Peter? Would you ever trust someone like you trusted him? The connection that the two of you had would forever be unparalleled, and that terrified you. What if you never found someone like him again?

Eventually, your tears dried, leaving you drained. A hollow feeling was spreading throughout your chest as you rubbed your red eyes, wanting to take a twelve hour nap. But, despite how tired you were, you knew you’d be up all night.

Ever since Peter left, you’d been staying awake until you could hear the birds chirping, only managing to catch a wink of sleep when your body couldn’t handle another second without rest.

You would feed yourself lies in an attempt to feel better, constantly trying to convince yourself that you were alright. Friends and family would check in on you often, and understandably so; they were worried for you. But you’d always tell them that you were fine.

After all, Peter wasn’t gone… he was just harder to see than most.

Right?

Day after day and night after night, that’s what you’d repeat. It was your mantra, and the only thing keeping you from losing your mind. He wasn’t gone. He just couldn’t be.

So, instead of confronting reality, you would put on an old record, waiting for your and Peter’s song to play. You’d bought the record at an old thrift store on a rainy afternoon, and to this day, you could still smell the wet pavement that you’d splashed across with him.

When the song’s soft, comforting melody finally floated throughout the apartment, you would stand up and spin around the room, letting the music guide you. Your steps were light, but the weight on your shoulders as you twirled made it feel like you would surely crash through the apartment floor.

The power of the music would course throughout your body all the way down to your fingertips, reminding you of how you and Peter would dance like this when he was still around. He would have placed his hands on your hips before giving in and wrapping his arms around you, holding you tight to his chest as the two of you swayed together. He would have kissed you gently on top of your head, whispering how he was the luckiest guy in the world.

But he wasn’t here to do any of that now, and the only thing you were dancing with was his ghost.

taglist;

@minnie-marvel @magic-marvel @quxntumvandyne @imnotbitter-anna @cynicallystiles @laurfangirl424 @misslunala @secondsineternity @galaxy-parker @peterpcrker @signed-potato @lokiislowkeyhot @highlady-ofthe-summercourt @veryspectacularspiderling @delicately-written @thefallenbibliophilequote @jupiterparker @buck-ets @newtimewriter @thedaughterofdawn @lltrashll @paradoxparker @propertyofmarvel @sagebrandy-loves-pancakes @flaminghottaquito @marvel-galaxy​ @laureharrier @futzingclint @lokiismischief @whycantwebefriendz​ @hedwigthelegend @yellowkenyon97 @casuallytumblingdownthestairs  @yelyahryan​ @em-aesthe​ @ @smexylemony​ @watermelonfruitsalad​ @thewildheroine​ @s0cial-retard​ @awkwardfangirl2014​ @nobelwarriorheroes​ @holland-haven​ @moonpadillaa​ @lesbianismybitchname​ @kingccbsblog​ @death-by-viola @marvellousparkerpeter​ @softrdj​ @marvel-carol-danvers​

peter parker taglist;

@lostnliterature  @johnmulaneyslut @irxnspxder @lovinnholland @peterparker-glee-other @whorecruxs @peterswetsocks @talk-geek-to-me @house-arya @hayadora @awokenfandoms @tulipwj @laic2299

masterlist | join my taglist

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker reader insert #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker blurb #peter parker fic #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker imagine #peter parker oneshot #lainey writes #fanfiction #reader insert #xreader #spiderman x reader #spider man x reader #dancing with your ghost #angst

[neighborhoodparker]

Ghost Of You

Summary:

Peter Parker, a high school junior, has done his best to manage his secret identity and school work. He had a healthy system set in place that somehow, miraculously, helped him manage everything in his life. At least he did until he runs into you one night while out prowling the streets for criminals. Your hands are buzzing with electricity, and the joy spread out across your face at the mere thought of helping make the streets safer is alluring. He vows to get to know you - to know everything about you. Something inside him is telling him that you’re the one person he knows he’s not afraid to unmask himself to. In his determination to learn everything about you, he ends up discovering a fatal secret that he’s not sure he can save you from.

Chapters:

Prologue

Extra Scenes:

Inspired Works:

Song Inspiration

#peter parker #spiderman #tonystark #peter parker x reader #peter x reader #peter parker imagine #peter imagine #peter parker fanfiction #ghost of you #marvel #marvelimagine #neighborhoodparker

[thewildheroine]

Meet Me In Between |Part One| (Infinity War Spoiler Story)

Warnings: Blood, explosion

Word Count: 2152

Pairing: Ghost!Peter Parker x Reader

A/N: OH MY GOSH GUYS I’M SO FREAKING EXCITED FOR THIS SERIES. I’ve been thinking about it since I saw Infinity War and I’m happy to have finally gotten a chance to publish it. This is a spoiler story though so please, Please, PLEASE, if you haven’t watched Avengers: Infinity War yet do not read this story. The biggest motivating/plot point is the most heartbreaking scene in the movie. I hope you guys enjoy the first part of Meet Me In Between!!!!!!

(Muy Importante endnotes at the bottom!) 

|Masterlist|

|Intro and Summary| |Part Two|

I stare out the window of the classroom. The early morning sun comes in thick rays past the skyscrapers. Our teacher drones on at the front drones on at the front of the class about the civil war or something close to that at least. My attention is on what is happening outside though. The sound of cars and people racing to get to work reverberate all the way from the streets and up into the class.

Abruptly I feel something brush against my elbow as though whatever it is is trying to grab me. I wave my hand around so people just think I’m discouraging a fly. Most of them already know the truth anyway. Well, they think they know the truth. Every single day I’m bombarded with questions about my ability to “see ghosts” and every day I try to explain to everyone that that isn’t how it works. Most of the time the inbetweeners that find me don’t actually mean to. In the between, the space I call that is stuck in the middle of the living and dead and world, people who have been lost for God knows how long meander around not knowing what is going on and occasionally bumping into me. I avoid them. At least I would if I could see them.

Whatever my gift is doesn’t allow me to use it to its full capability. I can only feel the inbetweeners. Their emotions as well as their bodies. Ever since I began high school I honed my ability to zone them out so I wouldn’t be called a weirdo.

The thing is, people did find out but they didn’t see me as the peculiar ghost girl. They adored me actually. I guess I have the Avengers to thank for that in a way. Because of them, my ability is seen as just another cool quirk rather than a curse. It’s made me popular in my school and people idolize everything about me because of the fact I can enter the in between.

Again, the invisible in-betweener bumps into my shoulder, and I shake my hand at them more so I can push whoever it is away. I ignore the transition when I go from the living world to the in between. Like always the empty class is covered in cobwebs. The world is dimmed by an eternal twilight that watches me nefariously. Instead of being able to see whoever is bumping into me I just see a warped space in the air that looks like a veil that is rimmed with a blurred rainbow.

I sigh and drop my head into my hands, willing the in-betweener to disappear. When he continues tapping my shoulder though I growl and look up at him or where I think he is at least. The tapping then stops and I can feel the glimmer of fear flowing through my head. The bulwark that guards my mind rises defensively, shutting off the emotions he has managed to force into my head.

“Y/N,” a voice next to me says. It isn’t his though. “Hey, adventurer lets go. If I’m late to astronomy again Ms. Hurley’s going to give me detention.” The in-betweener flickers away from my vision, reminding me of a dying light bulb. Once I return back to my world I have to let my eyes adjust to the amount of light pouring in through the windows. My eyes blink hard as I look up at Lily who taps her foot at me to show her sarcastic impatience.

“Sorry,” I shake my head and grab my backpack from the ground. The nearly weightless item hangs loosely on my figure as I stand and start walking out of the class with my friend. A crowd of people waits conspicuously outside, stalling to see the so-called ghost girl make her way to class.

“Move it, kids,” Lily hisses at them so that the crowd splits in half. “The adventurer isn’t doing interviews for underclassmen today.” I shoot each of them an apologetic smile before glaring back at my friend.

“I’m not doing any interviews for anyone ever,” I retort frustratedly before aggressively tearing my headphones out of the phone jack. Lily fakes disappointment while we begin mounting the flight of stares to astronomy.

“Awww,” she bemoans, randomly leaning against my body to be dramatic. I have to grab the metal railing for support. “Come on adventurer. Not even for those boy toys always checking you out?” I scoff and roll my eyes. My hand twists around my back and shoves the headphones into my back pocket.

“First of all I hate being called ‘the adventurer’,” I emphasize my point by mimicking quotes with my hands. “I don’t adventure. Sometimes I’m in the in-between and sometimes I’m here and also there are no guys checking me out.” Lily stops at the top landing, leaving me to push her away so we don’t block anyone's path.

“Oh, come on Y/N!” she chuckles loudly. I close my eyes, not wanting to acknowledge all the eyes locked on us. “Eli has had his eyes on you since sophomore year,” I smirk and nod, almost able to find her ignorance humorous.

“Yeah,” I drone and turn towards our class. “Wonder why that is?”

“Don’t pull that Y/N,” Lily groans as she follows me into Ms. Hurley’s class. The entire ceiling is a window shaped like a dome which allows us to use her giant telescope. Thousands of dollars of the school budget had to have gone into this room alone. I wouldn’t expect less from a Montessori school. Especially one located in Manhattan.

“Don’t pull what Lily?” I ask placidly, honestly too annoyed at this point to react with any emotion.

“That whole, oh my life is so hard. No one really likes me as a person and they only want to hang around me because of my weird gifts.” I watch, bemused at how she slouches her shoulders and whines in a high voice to imitate me. I blink hard and shake my head, still wondering how that impression even resembles me.

“I am nothing like that,” I reply calmly. Lily straightens herself, brushing the invisible specks of dust off of her dress before grinning ear to ear.

“That is totally like you,” she smiles smugly. I open my mouth to begin arguing but the door shuts behind me loudly, signaling that Ms. Hurley just entered the class. My eyes stay pointedly on Lily for a moment more before I slump into my seat. Our teacher clumsily approaches her desk while trying to balance a mug of coffee in her hand. Much to our relief, she sets it down on the wood before any of the contents has a chance to spill over the edge.

She sighs tiredly before pulling up something up on her laptop. I half listen to her as she begins informing us about our class agenda. Just like in history class, my attention is dragged over to the window. My eyes stare out of it expectantly. Something pulls at my heart suddenly and I know that for the first time in a very long time it is my own heart speaking to me.

Without explaining myself, I stand from my chair and walk towards the glass. Everyone stalls for a moment, curious about what the hell I’m doing. Finally, Ms. Hurley calls for me to sit back down. Instead of listening to her directions though, I keep approaching the window. I’m barely able to breathe once I reach the glass. My heart palpitates too fast.

Reluctantly, I look up as much as I can, silently dreading what I may see. At first, I find nothing but the warm blue sky. A few birds coast on the wind but there is nothing extraordinary about what I’m looking at despite the feeling that still rages inside of me. My eyes stay on the sky though, not hoping but preparing for what will come. Finally, I see what was calling for me. Right when it enters our atmosphere it just looks like a black streak heading towards New York. The normal person wouldn’t think much of it. I’m anything but normal though.

“Get down,” I whisper while backing away. Whatever is up in the sky doesn’t slow down and I begin fearing the absolute worse. I turn around to see all my shocked peers staring up at me, probably thinking I may have just looked at a ghost. My eyes meet Lily’s though and she automatically knows that it can’t be that.

“Guys,” my voice raises from my panic. “You need to get-”

I don’t even get the chance to finish my sentence when the window behind me is blown out. My body flies forward before meeting the ground harshly. Luckily my arms wrapped around my head right when the impact happened, keeping me a little safe while I skid across the floor. I slam against the leg of a chair that was left in a hurry.

As I pull myself up I hear the screams of my classmates as they rush out of the door to escape what had just happened. I look up, the black spots getting in the way of me seeing all of what just fell to the Earth. Gusts of air keep entering the school as I stand.

Right outside of the class is a giant thing of metal. Mechanisms work together to keep it up in the air and off of the Earth’s soil. Not giving it a second thought, I step towards the ship, the cord connecting me to it taut and basically begging me to investigate. The wind being emitted from the growling circle of metal blows my hair around my face but I’m too focused on what I’m seeing to keep the strands from disrupting my line of sight.

The ship fills up the whole entire street. Debris fly around Greenwich wildly. Pieces of newspapers even manage to float up and into the classroom. I crouch to the ground instinctively, preferring not to risk capture by what may be inside.

“Y/N!” Lily shouts for me. I stand and turn around to face her as she sprints into the classroom. Her hands immediately rise to check my face for any injuries. She swipes her fingers at the cuts I hadn’t even known existed since I was so infatuated with the ship. “We need to go,” she gasps breathlessly while staring behind me. I glance away from her and watch in complete awe as the debris in the streets floats upwards. Before I can figure out how Lily pulls at my arms. She struggles as I drag my feet into the linoleum flooring. Only when she starts imploring me to run do I turn away from the catastrophe that is New York and out of the messy classroom with her.

Lily keeps leading me even when we get to the bottom floor of our school. Her hand stays on mine as she tugs me away from the front door where I can hear the sounds of a fight beginning. We run through the cafeteria, which may very well be the only room in our whole school that wasn’t destroyed by the ominous ship.

Finally, we exit the building and pant. Lily laughs, relieved by how she made it out of there alive. I know how much that means to her. She and I went through the original attack on New York together with our mothers. It terrified her even to this day. I, on the other hand, am anything but relieved.

I still hyperventilate fearfully as though there is not enough oxygen in the world to support every cell in my body for even a moment. My hands run themselves through my tangled hair, tugging out strands as they move across the scalp mercilessly. Again, I look up to the sky, still hunting for something that I don’t know.

Then I see him swing overhead. His red and blue suit is just a blur against the monochromatic backdrop but I recognize him in an instant as the Spider-Man. My heart falters when I realize he is rushing towards the invader. A tear falls from my eye when the superhero disappears behind our school, leaving me alone with my confusing emotions.

“Please don’t go,” I mumble, not knowing why I would say it in the first place. Even Lily looks at me strangely as I collapse to the ground in an emotional heap made of tears and blood. I wheeze against my hands that were nicked by the glass when the window shattered. I wish that it was someone else’s emotions in my head. An in-betweener who is still in shock from arriving in the new domain. It’s not though. The heartbreak I feel comes from my very own heart and soul and I don’t have any idea if I’ll ever know why.

A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed the very first part of Meet Me In Between but I do need to let you guys know something. With finals approaching along with the end of the year I’m super stressed (especially since I have two really low B’s. Oof.) Seeing that that is the case I’m going to be posting my stories less frequently. If anyone would like to share any preferences they have my ask box is always open. I was thinking I would post Fly Away Wednesdays, Meet Me In Between Fridays and any one-shots, requests, or challenges during the weekend. I’ll probably begin this schedule after this week.

If you would like to be tagged from now on in this story please leave a comment or send me a message via ask/chat box. Requests are open as well!

#peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker soulmate au #tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #spiderman x reader #spider man x reader #readers perspective #spiderman #spider man #spiderman imagine #spiderman fanfiction #spider man homecoming #peter parker ghost #ghost!au #ghost!peter parker #ghost peter parker #ghost peter parker au #the avengers #the avengers infinity war #the avengers infinity war spoilers #infinity war spoilers #infinity war #infinity war fanfic #aiw

[peterthepark]

off the table

pairing: tasm!peter parker x ex!reader

tags: NSFW, breakup angst, sadness, graphic smut, alcohol use, mentions of wounds from a fight, exes, drunk!peter, ex!peter, slight choking

summary: ever since the breakup, peter hasn’t seen you in months. when he drunkenly shows up at your door, the two of you realize that there’s some things that haven’t been addressed.

notes: this fic became longer than i expected so enjoy almost 6k of pining, miscommunication, and smut!!! based off of the song “off the table” by ariana <3

missing out? ➤ my masterlist

Peter Parker doesn’t believe in the right person at the wrong time. He grew up with the knowledge that if someone was right for his heart, then the timing could never be wrong. Everything would fall in line just how it was destined to be, like it was meant to. If one chapter closed in his life, then another one opened. Yet Peter believed in second chances, especially for those he loved. No matter how unsuitable a person could be for him, he always held onto the silver lining that circumstances could become better — that a person could become better and he wouldn’t have to close a chapter.

Peter isn’t ready to close yours.

But you weren’t just a simple chapter to him. You were an entire novel, interwoven with stories and quotes and unspoken dialogue that would live in the wrinkles of his brain. Your love lingered in the cracks of his lips and the insides of his palms from the nights he couldn’t stop touching you, and the nights you couldn’t stop moaning his name against his own mouth.

God, he missed those nights.

Peter could still memorize every mole, freckle, and scar on your body. He could still recite every one of your favorite lines from that rom-com you used to watch together. Everytime your song came on, he found himself singing along to the lyrics as if you never left.

As if you were still together.

He doesn’t know how he got here. The smell of liquor is pungent on his clothes as he sniffles into the air. Peter usually never drank, but there was something about today that made him want to drown his sorrows away in the least responsible manner. Because with great responsibility comes — wait, what was it again?

The right side of Peter’s body harshly collides into the wall with enough impact to create a dent. His footing is messy and he can barely hold himself up as he sways lazily in the hallway to find the familiar apartment.

“Fuck…” Peter murmurs to himself as he hears your laugh echo from outside your door, causing him to clumsily stumble onto his knees. “Get it together, man.”

He pulls himself to his feet, using the ground for leverage before his forehead is leaning against the coolness of the white-colored door as Peter attempts to remember the whole speech he had planned out in the haziness of his mind. With an uncertain hand, he knocks. There isn’t an answer until he decides to knock again, to which he then hears the chirpy sound of your voice shouting ‘coming!’ from the other side, followed by the sharp clacking of heels against the floorboards.

He’s leaning against the wall by the time the door swings open and his breathing becomes ragged at the sight of you.

You, in a sequined dress, something he thought would be too short and flashy for your own liking. You, with your hair up and freshly-done makeup that reminds Peter of all the times you’d gotten dressed up to see him. You, staring at him, as the smile fades from your lips like you’d seen a ghost.

“Y/N.” Peter exhales with a lopsided grin.

“Peter,” You stare at him with wide eyes in disbelief. You stick your head outside of the door to glance at either end of the hallway for anyone else. “What are you doing here?”

He laughs tiredly and runs a heavy hand down his face. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t like — I couldn't find my way back home and I think I lost my phone somewhere.” He chuckles, pointing at you. “Did I… um, are you gonna leave? I’m sorry, I dunno how I — dunno what I’m doing, Y/N.”

You smell it then — the alcohol. And it makes sense. You’re unsure how to approach him, because you hadn’t seen Peter in several months ever since your breakup halfway through college. He continues to mumble under his breath; the sight of his disheveled appearance makes your heart ache, which only makes you feel sorry for him.

There’s a discoloration of purpled blues and bloody reds by his eyebrow that you hadn’t noticed before.

“Are these bruises? Oh, my god. Peter, I’m gonna call you a cab.” You tug your bottom lip between your teeth. He instantly grabs your wrist before you can turn away from him, then your head snaps to look at him.

“No, no need. Can‘t do hospitals, remember?”

You swallow hard. “Yeah. I remember.”

You don’t miss the way his thumb rubs your skin in the silence.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I’ll go.” Peter starts to lose his footing. Your hands instantly find his shoulders to steady him before he can fall over, sighing as he tries to apologize. “I’m sorry. I didn’t have anyone else — I don’t know… I don’t have anyone else.”

You screw your eyes shut in a mix of pity and frustration.

“Oh, fucking hell. Come inside, Peter.”

You guide his tall frame into the apartment as you shut the door behind you, carefully watching where he walks as you lead him onto the couch. He plops down onto the pillows with a lack of grace, and his eyes glaze over the exposed skin of your thighs.

You pad towards the bathroom, rummaging for the first aid kit that you hadn’t used ever since Peter had lived here. There’s a distance in your gaze as you return to the living room, setting bandages and towels on the coffee table before you’re kneeling in front of Peter.

He then sees that the apartment looks different. Any trace of himself was obviously gone, replaced with pictures of people he couldn’t recognize and replaced with stuff that he doesn’t remember buying for you. The whiteboard on the fridge that Peter used to write notes for you is now filled with a schedule, reminding him that his presence was causing a disturbance to the peaceful night you were going to have.

“I’m so sorry for bothering you.”

“Leg.” You motion, holding his calf as you pull his shoe off.

“You look beautiful, by the way.”

“Other one.”

“Why are you all dressed up?”

“Peter, I need you to put your leg up.”

“You look so pretty. Is it a date? Are you still…” He huffed with a short laugh. “… are you dating again?”

You chase the frown off of your face with a shake of your head, trying to level your patience. “It’s my birthday tomorrow, Peter.” Realization flashes across his features. You interrupt before he can speak. “I was headed out for drinks with friends. I’m not dating anyone.”

“Oh.” He scratches his nose. “Right, yeah.”

You shrug. “Yeah.”

“I’m sorry for ruining your night.”

You set his shoes aside and sit by him on the couch, taking the first aid kit into your lap as Peter gazes at you longingly. “S’okay, didn’t wanna go out anyways.” Your knee brushes against his thigh as you survey the blossoming bruises on his face. Your fingers ever-so-slightly twitch as you reach for him. “May I? My hands are clean. Just wanna put a bandage over it.”

“Don’t need to ask me.”

You gingerly tilt his head back with a hum, “I do.”

“You always asked.” Peter sucks in a breath as you dab at the small cuts with a gauze pad. “Every time I was hurt after patrol and needed you, you’d ask. As if you hadn’t touched me before.” He studies the flicker of nostalgia on your face. He talks as if the words are meant for himself more than you. “No other person cared for me like you did.”

In a sick way, him being here feels like home again.

Guilt sinks into you as you turn away from him. You and Peter never had a proper conversation about what happened between you two. People grow apart. People lose interest. People find somebody else. But none of that ever happened, and the reasons for your break-up were never addressed which is what made his comment sting harder than it should have.

You pat a warm towel against his cheeks and neck, wiping away the sweat and the stench of the bar from his skin. With steady hands, you rip the small band-aid open, placing it over the surface wounds on his eyebrow.

“What kind of trouble did you get yourself into, spidey?” The timbre of your voice is gentle as you look at him, eyes wandering over his face in sympathy.

He shifts in his seat. “Just some assholes who drank too much.”

“Sounds familiar.”

Peter chuckles at your remark, head lolling to the side. “Is that what you think of me right now? Asshole who drank too much?”

“Maybe just the ‘drank too much’ part.”

“Personally, I was hoping you’d say I’m an asshole.” He scoffs, cradling his own cheek.

A sad smile falls upon your lips as you gaze at him. “Hm, why’s that?”

“Would be easier to know you have some semblance of hatred for me.”

The declaration feels like a punch in the stomach, and you find yourself at a loss for words when Peter’s fingers nudge against your hand. You close your eyes when you feel his pinky curl against yours. Unable to look at him, you sit forward on your elbows, hunching over in your lap.

“You’re drunk, Pete.”

The nickname makes him weak.

“Tell me you hate me.” He leans over to you, his breath fanning over your shoulder. You feel tears prickle in your eyes. “Please, Y/N.”

Your voice is muffled as you cover your face. “I don’t hate you.”

“I want you to.”

“I couldn’t — I couldn’t possibly hate you.” You cross your arms over your chest. He lingers over your back. He wants to kiss the softness of your skin, to remember how you tasted, how your body reacted to him and him only. But Peter knows better than to chase the old life that you had shared together. “Nothing you do is worth hating.” You can feel him inhale your perfume, and you don’t move when his chin settles in the curve of your shoulder.

The action is one of longing, one that tells you that Peter hadn’t stumbled at your door for no reason, one that whispers ‘I miss you, do you miss me?’ in every language, and every iteration of each wordless apology that refuses to leave him.

A sob rustles through the air.

“We were so good together, and you left.” The boy whispers brokenly. “I loved you and you left.”

“That’s not fair.”

“What about this is supposed to be fair?”

“I left because I loved you too much.” Peter feels the drunkenness fade from his body at the sight of tears on your face, heightening his powered senses. “I loved you more than I loved myself. I loved you to the point that I’d actually allow you to destroy yourself as Spider-Man, because I know I couldn’t stop you. What kind of person does that?” You sit up, interlocking your hands behind your neck as an overwhelming wave of emotion hits. “How could I just — just stand there and support you knowing that you could be gone at any moment? That it would ruin me and I’d be okay with it because you would be doing the very thing you loved to do?”

The space under Peter’s eyes is stained with tear tracks, sniffling loudly at your thoughts. “Is that not what love is?”

“To watch a person ruin themselves?”

His eyelashes flutter against your jawline as he leans into your neck. “To be so selfless, that you’d put someone’s happiness over your own, even if that meant losing them.” He trembles. “Y/N, I wish you’d talked to me.”

“We’re talking now, aren’t we?” You feel the clenching of his jaw. “Suppose it’s different now, yeah?”

“It’s never different with you.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ll always love you. I never stopped.” He finally presses a chaste kiss of longing to your clavicle. “You were my girl.”

You hold back tears. “Is this really you talking?” Peter notices the sputter of your chest, your throat threatening to let a sob wrack through your body.

He turns you towards him, letting his hand dip down just above your hip. Your distressed eyes search his face for an answer as your bottom lip quivers in visible heartache. He takes your hand in his free one, kissing the pads of your fingers before he places them over his heart. “This is me sober.” He kisses them again. “This is me in love.” Another kiss. “This is yours.” He runs your hand over his chest, up his neck and then his cheek with wet lashes. “I am yours. Everything I am is yours. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.”

Your lip juts out in anguish when Peter’s tears fall against your skin. You shudder. “I think you should go.”

He’s all over you. His scent. His eyes.

“I’ll never love anyone the same way I love you.”

You feel like you’re suffocating under the colossal weight of his poetry.

“Peter, I can’t do this tonight.”

You’re moving to get up, until his arms wrap around your legs. He keeps you there — unable to move, stagnant, and unchanged like you had no choice but to endure this. His head rests against your abdomen while you fight to stand straight, refusing to give in.

But it’s so difficult.

It feels like betrayal as you watch him cry into the material of your dress, whispering chants of ‘don’t go’ in the same manner as a broken record. You hold your chin up high, ignoring how empathetic tears of your own trail down your face at the sounds of his whimpering.

“Y/N.” He hisses through teeth. “Y/N, please.”

The crack of his voice injures your conscience.

“I tried for you.”

Peter’s hands cup the backside of your thighs as his words stumble over each other in a hurry. “So try again with me.”

Your hands subconsciously entangle in his hair before you slowly bend down to plant a wistful kiss to the top of his head — more of a sob than a kiss, but Peter feels relief at the sensation of your lips on his body anyhow. Your fingers knot through the chestnut strands as they drift past the nape of his neck.

His hair smells like your old shampoo.

“Oh, Pete.” You sigh, allowing him to pull you into his arms. His hands are large against the curvature of your back, and he’s feverishly grasping at your skin under the touch of you.

The crushing embrace is one of love and yearning, but there’s an underlying heat in the way Peter takes you into his lap. Your arms are slung around his neck as his face buries itself beside your ear. The hitching of his breath reminds you that this is real — that you’re in his arms and he still loves you in a way that such words cannot describe.

“It’s not like this with anyone else.” He whispers, causing the wetness of his lips to transfer onto your skin. The peak of his nose drags against your cheek as his breath ghosts over you.

“Peter…” The name heeds as a warning when his lips come dangerously near yours. His eyes dance across your features; his heart shrivels at the sight of your cries and the shaking in your arms.

“Why are you scared?”

“If you kiss me, I’m afraid I’ll tell you all the things I never got to tell you.” You whimper when he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You can tell me anything you want.” He speaks breathily as his lips follow along your jaw. “Tell me you miss me.” Kiss. “Tell me you hate me.” Kiss. “Tell me you need me, or you don’t.” Kiss. “Tell me you love me, Y/N. You can say anything and nothing will change.”

Peter gazes up at you. His eyes are glassy, and the loving brown hue of them is suddenly darker than you remember. You shake your head at him without a word, unable to talk with how your throat bubbles in rehashed misery. The brunette leans into you as you gently cradle the side of his face. You hesitate, and he catches it. His forehead presses up against yours. “You don’t need to do anything unless you want to.”

Peter’s comment causes a tear to slip out from the corner of your eye. A whine eases between your lips as you pull him closer towards you until your noses are touching.

He surveys your next move.

He prays you aren’t ready to close this chapter.

Peter loses any and all sound of mind when your lips clash against his. It’s hurried and messy, teeth bumping into each other with a clicking noise, accidental moans escaping your mouths. His hand softly holds you by the neck, while the other travels to the suppleness of your bottom to hold you up.

Your breathing is noisy, and Peter feels like he’s burning up a fever when you bite at his bottom lip. He doesn’t hide the aching groan that leaves him.

Nothing about the kiss is smooth.

Nothing about the way Peter touches you is innocent.

He’s completely sober at this moment. Any ounce of alcohol left in his system has faded as a result of how his body functions, and because Peter really wants to make the effort to remember this — you. He wants to savor every bite, every moan, every whisper of his name, every drop of you and every tear that leaves your eyes.

“I haven’t…” You pull away from him for relief. “… you know… in months.” Your tone is shy. The embarrassed blush on your cheeks makes Peter weak in the knees.

Peter nods in understanding. “Neither have I.” He plants a kiss on your sternum. “It’s okay.”

Your gaze doesn't leave him when his hand reaches around to hold your ponytail. He takes the band around your hair, gently tugging it out of place while being careful not to hurt you. He slips it around his wrist as messy strands fall around your face, cascading and framing each detail of you.

He runs his fingers through your part, humming at the way you shut your eyes. He sits forward and wraps your legs around his waist before he stands effortlessly; Peter’s strength makes you feel miniscule in his grasp until his lips find yours again and suddenly you can feel the fire within you growing.

Like second nature, Peter navigates your bodies to your bedroom, hoping that it is the same as it once was. The room is dark, and neither of you care for lights when Peter tenderly lays you out on the bed.

His lips leave yours and now he stands over your body.

You admire his face.

“Are your bruises okay?” The whisper melts into the heavy silence.

“Bruises have never stopped me when it comes to you.” He runs his hands down your legs before he’s kneeling on the floorboards, pulling you closer to the edge of the bed. He rids you of your heels, softly kissing the tops of your feet as he makes his way up your legs. “God, you’re perfect.” His mouth is wet on your skin and the saliva glistens in the shadows.

“Pete…”

“I need you, Y/N,” He whispers, fingers kneading at the flesh of your thighs, “Christ, all of you.” His nails are digging into you. His grip is rougher.

“Stop teasing.” You nudge him with your foot.

“Oh, baby, it’s not teasing.” Your eyes meet his brown ones in the dark as he slowly hikes your dress up your stomach, revealing your underwear. His laugh comes out as a scoff. You instantly pick up on the way his voice shifts to a lower tone, accenting his words as he takes off his sweater. “I can show you what teasing is if you want.”

Fuck.

“I missed you.” You confess. “I missed this.”

“Keep talking to me.” His breaths are ragged as he kisses the skin around your core. He’s pulling your knees apart, nibbling on the insides of your thighs as his chest hits the frame of the bed. “Work for it, Y/N.”

“Haven’t been touched like this. In a while.” You sit up on your forearms to watch Peter’s reaction. “Haven’t touched myself since we were together.”

He moans sinfully at the remark, moving to sit beside you with an amused chuckle until he’s pulling you into his lap again. His chest is flush against your back as he spreads your legs for you.

The mirror across the room is enough to tell you what he’s thinking.

“Is this what you were afraid to tell me?” His nose buries into your hair. He’s exhaling into your skin, jaw slack as he helps you push your panties down your thighs. You can only nod as you study your reflections in the glass. “That you can’t get off without me?” You let your head fall against his shoulder, sucking a mark on his neck. His throat flexes at the motion. “What do you want me to do with you?”

“Finger me, Peter.” You breathe out, caressing his jaw. Your lipstick stains his chin. “Please.”

His finger dips down between your folds. A mocking chuckle leaves him as you sigh at the feeling of him touching you. He toys with your clit, rubbing gentle circles against the nub.

“Just as beautiful as the day I met you.” He gazes longingly at your desperate state in the mirror, spurred on by the visual of your head thrown back in helpless desire. “Look at yourself. So needy, aren’t you?” The tip of his finger prods at your entrance. “Fuck, Y/N.” His other hand wraps around your throat, pressing on your pulse point.

His middle finger enters you, slowly curling inside you until he’s pumping the digit in and out of you. You can hear the sounds of your wetness accumulating around your folds, and it’s even dirtier now that Peter can see it in the mirror. His jaw hangs open in a ‘O’ as you shut your eyes, sighing against him as he adds another finger to fill you.

“Oh, Peter…” You whine, nearly closing your legs at the sudden feeling. You use your own fingers to touch your clit, moaning as the heel of Peter’s palm presses against your mound. “Fucking… god, it feels so good.”

“Yeah?”

Peter’s erection strains against the denim of his jeans, and you use your free hand to reach behind you to grasp him through the material. He moans raspily at the touch, eyebrows furrowing in satisfaction.

“Take your pants off.” You mutter into his lips as you eye him through heavy lashes. The ache between your thighs doesn’t go unnoticed, but getting Peter off was just as pleasurable as his fingers inside of you.

He smirks, “Yes, ma’am.”

You crawl off his lap, laying on your stomach as he rids himself of his underwear and jeans. You rest your chin in the palm of your hand as you watch him, licking your lips when his cock comes to view. He scoots closer to you, letting you take control as you wrap a fist around his length. Your dress rides up your backside, giving Peter a chance to gaze at the curve of your ass as your legs cross innocently in the air. His nostrils flare into a deep inhale as you take him into your mouth, suctioning your lips around his tip.

He controls the urge to snap his hips into you, wanting to bask in the feeling of you sucking him off. Your lips pepper the underside of his cock; your stare never leaves him as you peer up doe-eyed and trusting.

“So big,” You mumble before your head bobs down and takes him fully into your mouth.

“Jeez, Y/N.” Peter can see the outline of his tip from the bulge in your cheek, and he chuckles shakily when your hand splays out onto his stomach as you squeeze your lips around him. “God, fuck, y-your mouth…” He’s throbbing and his voice comes out broken and needy. “Oh, baby, so good.”

Baby.

The pet name makes you clench your thighs together.

A string of saliva connects your lips to his cock when you pull off for air, nearly gasping as your throat opens up again. There’s tears in your eyes from the way his girth filled your mouth. Peter doesn’t hesitate to wipe them away from your face, cooing softly as your mascara stains your skin.

“I got you, Y/N. I got you.” He shushes you, rubbing your back as you cough. “Hey, don’t tire yourself.”

You rest your cheek against him, lazily pumping his length in your hand as you shake your head. “I’m sorry, wanna make you cum.”

“I’ll cum when you do.”

You chuckle in reminiscence. “Always a giver, Pete.”

“Well, only for you.”

“Hm, really?” You pump him at a slow pace. He hisses audibly with a wordless nod of his head. You can see the yearning on his face. “I want you inside me. Would you give me that?”

“I’ll give you anything you want, Y/N.”

You sit up on your knees, hand leaving the warmth of his cock as you grab onto his shoulders. Your lips drag down his face, capturing his mouth into a clumsy kiss that causes your limbs to tangle with one another. He carefully rolls you back onto the bed so that he’s on top, and he takes advantage of the moment to slip your body out of your dress.

Peter caresses your bare tits, burying his face in the valley of your breasts as he leaves a trail of hickies across your chest. He pins your wrists above your head with one hand, his other fingers rubbing your clit between the mess of your bodies.

“Tell me where you want me again.” His dilated eyes search yours hungrily while he grinds against you, awed by how your face contorts into pleasure. “Inside you?” You nod rapidly. “Stretch you out? Are you sure you can take me?”

“I’ve taken it before.”

He grins. “Good girl.” Peter runs his length down your folds, teasing your entrance with newfound patience that rattles you. You shut your eyes to focus on your breathing, until anxious thoughts make their way into your brain.

“Peter, wait.”

The boy stops immediately.

“What’s wrong?” His voice is soft with concern. He worriedly cups your face. “Did I hurt you? Are you okay?”

Your eyelids open reluctantly. With a rough gulp, you blink weakly at him. “If we have sex, what does this make us?”

He opens his mouth, yet nothing comes of it. You see the reality of the situation fall upon his features.

“Can’t I just have you for tonight?”

You feel a rush of tears approach. “And what about tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow, if you’d let me.” He kisses your nose. “And then the next day. And the day after. A week from now. A month.” His fingertips ghost over your ribs. “Take me back anytime you want, whenever you want. No matter how long it takes, I’m yours.”

You nod. “Okay.”

“You’re alright?” Peter pushes your hair back.

“Mhm, yeah.”

“Say yes for me, baby.”

“Yes, Pete.”

He looks at you one more time before his gaze shifts between your legs. Carefully, he pushes into you. You hold back a groan as your body adjusts to him. The sting hurts in a good way, and the aching of your core continues to build as Peter’s pelvis touches yours.

“Is this good?” He leans over, one hand on the bed while the other holds the back of your head. You moan in approval. “Can I move? Is that okay?”

“Y-Yes, thank you.” You hold his waist, mouth falling ajar as he pulls his cock back and thrusts in again. “Holy fuck, Peter.”

“Tell me if it hurts.”

“No, it feels good.” You bite his shoulder. “It feels so good.”

His strokes quicken, and Peter can’t take his eyes off of you when you moan wanton into his mouth. He does the same, teeth clashing against yours as your body jolts at his thrusts. He pushes your knees to your chest, pounding deeper inside you.

“Y/N, god.” He huffs, head hurting at the overwhelming feeling of you clenching around him. “You’re so tight.”

“It’s yours.” You smile at him.

“Say it, Y/N. All of it.”

“My pussy is yours.”

“Oh. Oh, baby.” His skin slaps against the back of your thighs. In the darkness, you see the sweat trail down his forehead and the need for release is written all over his face. “Fuck, Y/N, feels so good when it’s you.”

Peter’s eyes remind you that you can trust him.

“Hey, I love you.” You kiss the corner of his lips. “Look at me.”

He glances up at you to reassure himself that your words are real. “Again. Do that again.”

“I love you.”

“Say my name.”

“Peter, I love you.” He moans blissfully. It’s loud and gruff, but the sound reminds you of all the nights from before. The pit in your stomach finally drops when Peter grips you by the throat, thrusting into you rougher than before. “I’m gonna… baby, I’m gonna cum.”

“C-Can I cum inside you?” He pleads as you grip onto his wrists.

“Please.”

The choked statement of desire sends him over the edge, and the bedroom is filled with a song of your moans and grunts as you cum around his cock. Peter follows quickly, unable to fathom the sensation of you squeezing around him like you wouldn’t ever let him go. A whimper escapes him as he finishes and lets his body collapse on top of yours.

“Holy shit.” He laughs against your neck, peeling his fingers away from the stickiness of your skin. “Are you okay?” You nod with a satisfied expression, motioning for him to pull out.

The ache in your core is replaced with emptiness from the lack of Peter, and he hums apologies as his cum begins to leak onto your bedsheets. “S’okay.” You assure him, arms reaching for his tall frame as he finally lays beside you.

“Y/N...” He turns to you.

You wave him off sleepily. “Peter, we’ll talk in the morning.”

“Okay.”

“Promise when I wake up you’ll be here, yeah?”

“As long as we don’t end up yelling at each other.”

You laugh at his comment, but part of you is fearful. “Peter, I’m serious.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’ll be here.” He kisses your cheek without second thought, inhaling the scent of himself on your skin. “Promise.”

-

The chirping of birds draws you out of your sleep. The sunlight is bright, yet the bed feels oddly cold. Your throat feels sore, and there’s an unmistakable smattering of familiar fingerprints on your body as you open your eyes.

Peter.

Your hand instinctively reaches for the space beside you.

“Peter?”

The side of his bed is empty. The duvet is pulled away messily, but the indent of his body is still clear as day in the mattress. Your pillowcases smell of him and sex, and you frown at the lack of his presence. Reluctantly, you get up, ignoring the soreness between your thighs when your feet touch the hardwood floor. You slip on the nearest shirt, shivering from the cool air with a frown on your lips.

He promised. He fucking promised.

You feel the build-up of tears in your eyes as you step into the hallway.

Disappointment. Anger. Hurt. Betrayal?

There’s a humming that comes from the kitchen.

“Peter?”

Silence. Then, a loud clatter.

“In here!”

The raspiness of his voice puts you at ease. Your shoulders relax at the familiar sound, and you level the pace of your breathing as you head into the other room. Peter stands by the stove, an apron around his sculpted chest as he focuses on the pan in front of him.

“You found it.”

“Found what? Also, you’re welcome for — for the cooking by the way.” He gestures at you with a spatula, wagging it at you jokingly.

“You found my apron.” You approach him with short strides, wrapping your arms around yourself as you snap out of your trance. “And thanks. Sorry. I thought…”

“You thought I left?” He glances at you with raised brows. “Have at least a little faith in me.”

“Sorry. I just — you know me, overthinker.”

You notice then that the apartment looks different. There’s stringy cobweb garlands on the ceiling, connected to the little hanging lamp above your dining table.

A long banner made of web that reads ‘Happy Birthday!’ sits above your front door.

Oh.

Peter takes advantage of your silence, coming to hold you by your waist as you stare dumbfounded at the decorations.

The room doesn’t feel so empty anymore.

“Happy birthday, by the way.” He kisses your shoulders, cradling your face in his hands as he bumps his nose against yours.

“Peter…”

“I know, I didn’t have to.”

“But why…” You puff your cheeks.

“It’s the least I could do since I ruined your girls’ night.” He clears his throat. “And for having sex with you.” He looks away in embarrassment, gazing at the ceiling as if he was talking to himself. “When clearly we’re exes.”

You squeeze his side as you blurt out, “I wanna try again with you.”

“You know, it’s completely fine if you wanted a one time thing like…” Peter still doesn’t meet your stare, clearly unaware that you’re even talking to him. “I mean, I had fun and — and I know I said some stuff and — like I was pretty sober for most of it so you know if I rehashed things…”

“Pete.”

“And I’m sorry for being such a shitty ex like…” You press a hand over his chest, hoping to catch his attention. “I didn’t show up just to have sex or — or hookup.”

“Peter.”

“I’m serious that I want you back—“

You shake his shoulders. “Peter Parker, will you just listen to me?”

He finds your eyes in the chaos of his words. “Sorry.”

“I want you, too.” You purse your lips. “I’m sorry, I should’ve told you how I felt instead of running away. I was just scared.”

“If anything, I’m the one who should be running away.” Peter rests his chin on top of your head, embracing you against his chest. “Every second I spend with you…”

“I don’t wanna hear it.” You smile sadly. “I know what I got myself into.”

He ignores the pang in his heart at the thought of losing you again, but in worse conditions. “I meant it when I said I love you. With you, it’s — it’s different.” He takes your jaw, pulling your face up to look at him. “I like it here with you.”

You grin against his lips. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Is it just me or is something burning?”

“Fuck, sorry!”

Peter supposed that maybe your chapter together did end at one point. He supposed that maybe it was time for those old pages to be tucked away, for the whole novel of poetry and conversations to turn over into memories and merely live in the cracks of his heart where it could never be opened again. But Peter realizes that there was a reason your relationship ended — to make room for another book, another chapter, a sequel.

Maybe you were always the right person and it was always the right timing. Maybe the two of you just needed to rewrite your story.

Peter knows to finish a book before starting another one.

He can’t wait to see what this new novel holds.

-

#peter parker #peter parker oneshot #peter parker imagine #peter parker smut #peter parker angst #peter parker fluff #peter parker x f!reader #peter parker x fem!reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker x reader #tasm peter x reader #tasm peter x you #tasm peter parker #tasm!spiderman x reader #tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter angst #tasm!peter fanfiction #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fanfiction #tasm andrew garfield #andrew garfield

[dirtychocolatechai]

murphy’s law | p.p

🍵pairing | peter parker x f!reader

🍵wc | 4.8k

🍵warning(s) | 18+, smut; sex pollen, mild dub con cuz pollen, dirty talk, handjob, frottage, needy/desperate Peter, slight sub Peter, age gap (reader is a few years older), loss of virginity

🍵request | sex pollen peter but instead of him staying sweet it makes him dirty

🍵notes | this took me like 3 years to write, no joke 🙃 Anyway, hope it was worth the wait, babes! Sorry for anyone who saw this already, there was an issue with the tags hoping they’re fixed now 👍 Peter is always 18+

🍵tag list: open | requests: open | masterlist

(gif credit @/tomhollandbr)

It’s been 16 grueling hours since everything that could go wrong did.

Avengers be damned, you’ll ghost their asses if you have to suffer through another 16. You're not an expert, but they should have come up with something by now.

Seriously, what’s taking so long?

Not only has Parker suffered enough mortification to last a lifetime, it’s dumb luck he’s still breathing, albeit on borrowed time. A high stakes race against the clock. The eleventh hour is nigh. There’s no overtime, and it’s not just Parker’s dignity on the line this time.

Soon, there won’t be any other choice.

He’s already wound tighter than an old rubber band. His self control is impressive, but even their Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man has his limits.

No doubt, he’s going to snap once the pollen reaches its zenith. All the sticky fever dreams, all the sweat and regret - it’s going to be a cakewalk compared to the hunger that’ll raze through his system like liquid fire, leave him desperate and dripping for a release that’ll never come.

The tension between you mounts with every sneaky touch, each stolen caress bolder than the last. It’s so obvious how badly he aches to reach out, to touch, anticipation hiding in the hunch of his shoulders and the shift of his legs.

Stomach swooping at the sound of his low groan, you beat back the urge to glance up and frown down at the magazine in your lap. “Parker?”

“...”

“... Parker?”

“H-nm?... Oh, uh - what’s, uh, what’s up?”

“Are you --”

You scoff, tucking your elbows into your sides and hunching your shoulders. “My eyes are up here, you little perv.”

Parker jolts, his head turning to face the wall with a sputter. “I - I’m… sorry, I just…” He trails off, the silence dragging on as he gets lost in his head. “Oh my god, why is it so - it’s really hot in here, isn’t it?”

“No, it’s just you, Parker.”

“Huh?” The eyes of his mask click with every slow blink as he sways on the spot. “Really…”

“Yes,” you say. “Really.”

Frustration throbs in your temple, a sharp pain lancing through your skull with every beat of your heart and your jaw worked into a painful knot.

Your nails nearly rip through the glossy page with how forcefully you turn it, the article staring up at you nothing but blurred letters.

“Who knows,” you shrug, “Maybe if you wouldn’t sit so close to me…”

You let the words hang in the air, gauging his reaction.

Only it’s as if he’s woken from a fever dream, his voice slow to come and fraught with heat when he asks, “Can I — please, let me touch you?”

The unexpected request knocks you for a loop; echoes in your ears until you can’t make sense of the words, thoughts thick as mud.

“What?”

Heart thudding in your chest, you peek at his profile from beneath your lashes. It’s harder to breathe, the air sucker punched from your lungs in a shaky exhale. Heat settles into the apples of your cheeks.

“I- no…”

His expression is inscrutable - hidden behind a sea of scarlet fabric. You’re stuck tracking the subtle twitch of his shoulder, the twiddle of his thumbs, as he processes your response.

You wish - not for the first time - Parker wasn’t wearing his mask.

“Please,” he says. “It’s so hot.”

Instead of waiting for you to reject him again, Parker squirms closer and tugs the mask up over his chin. The fabric exposes the lower half of his face, bunching under his nose.

Your eyes follow the line of his jaw to the tender curve of his mouth. And then your attention snags and refuses to budge, your mind conjuring up many scenarios wherein you bite his lips red and raw yourself.

Ignore it, ignore it, ignore it.

Honestly, this entire situation is cruel - to the both of you. Parker, for obvious reasons, and you - well… You haven’t felt this wound up since you were a teenager, your restraint stretched bow string taut.

“I won’t do anything weird, I just — can’t take it anymore. Need to touch you.” Parker draws in a shuddered breath, a hand scrubbing over the nape of his neck. His voice cracks, low and desperate, “Please, it’ll help… I think…”

Any response you had turns to ash on your tongue at the flash of his tongue whetting his lips. Curling through your mind is a far-off dream better left between the sheets; the image of his head buried in your thighs - his curls tickling your skin and his mouth sugar-sweet on your cunt.

Almost as if he hears your thoughts, his wide jaw flexes and his nostrils flare. A thrum of molten heat bubbles to life deep in your belly, bolts of arousal hooking behind your navel and tugging at your edges until you almost crack like fine china.

Thighs clenched, you choke on a sigh of appreciation when your gaze wanders to the erection stretching out the front of his suit. You rip your eyes away as quickly as they settle, but any hope that Parker didn’t notice where your attention strayed goes out the window when he clears his throat and covers himself with a hand.

Before you can apologize in some awkward, roundabout way, a wide palm wraps around your wrist. He traces shapes into your skin, fabric catching on your pulse point with every pass of his thumb.

“Please don’t make me stop.”

“... Parker…”

Huffing, his hand cups your shoulder, his fingers tense as it seems to do little more than frustrate him.

“--It’s not working. Off, off!” he hisses. “Hn - need’ta get this stupid,” he yanks off his mask and tugs at the torso of the suit, “thing off.”

After a quick smack of the spider emblem affixed, his suit pools around his hips in a puddle of red and blue. The firm planes of his chest glow gold in the dimmed light, the glitter of sweat enhancing the cut of his torso.

Shoulders, broad and capped with thick muscles, melt into a trim waist. Goosebumps burst across his forearms as everything rushes in all at once with nothing to filter the excess stimuli.

Parker flexes his hands, your attention dragged to the constellation of freckles dotting his abs, and oh...

Shit. Lids half-mast, you suck your teeth and pinch your thigh. Remember, no touching.

…Even if you want to map that pattern out with your lips, carve their paths with your tongue. It’s like you’re noticing him for the first time, your head spinning with the realization that as much as you poke fun, he’s not much younger than you.

You’ve always thought of him as a little brother, attractive in that charming boy next door way - all strawberries and cream. And now the urge to nibble on the jut of his hip makes your mouth water, your teeth ache.

It’s as you’re reaching out to see for yourself if his skin is as soft as it looks when he breathes your name. A breathy, awe-filled exaltation that shatters the trance, his eyes wide and eager.

Freezing, you swallow rough and exhale slow. Bite down on the inside of your cheek to keep you grounded. And when your hands don’t stop shaking, you sit on them. That was way too close for comfort.

“What’d you think you’re doing, Parker?” you ask.

Only it’s more like sharing breath, your voice hushed and far too intimate - an open wound that exposes all your raw nerve endings. You’re too afraid to break the strange tension electrifying the distance between you.

Shuffling closer until his knees dig into your thigh, Parker tucks his ankles under himself and reaches out. His eyes beg for relief, pupils blown wide. “Just let me…”

Bridging the gap, his palm settles on you without a barrier for the first time. A deep groan punches out of his chest, his fingertips digging into the meat of your upper arm. His eyes slam shut, his mouth dropping into a slack o.

Awareness sizzles at the points of contact, his hand sliding back over the curve of your shoulder. Even through your shirt his palm is unnaturally warm and clammy. Shivers branch through your limbs when his knuckles stroke over your fluttering pulse.

“Parker -- Peter.”

Your calls for attention go unheeded, the web slinger pushing until you find yourself sprawled across the couch with him on top of you. Torso plastered to yours, his body is a too warm weight as he buries his nose in the crook of your neck.

His next exhale shudders from him.

Parker sighs. “Mm, you smell really good.”

Content for the moment, he traces the line of your throat and ends behind your ear. Puffs of moist breath tickle your skin as he breathes you in; your scent a cooling balm that tames the blood boiling in his veins, albeit temporarily.  

“Like really, really good,” Parker slurs, low and punch drunk. “D’ya know that?”

Patting the back of his head with a chuckle, your own falls back in defeat. This is so not how you expected to spend your day off, swallowing down all the inappropriate feelings welling up in the face of Parker’s inability to keep his greedy hands to himself.

“Thanks, kid.”

You throw out the nickname in an attempt to pump the brakes, give yourself time to muster up some semblance of self control. He’s already got a crush on you the size of the moon - there’s no reason to give him false hope.

His face is burrowed in the side of your neck so you can’t see his expression but when he responds, there’s no mistaking the petulance threaded through his words, “Don’ call me that.”

You hate how endearing that is.

“‘m not a kid…”

“Yeah, uh-huh. You’re not a kid.”

“‘m not.”

You leave him to his sulking, pleased this is helping even if it’s awkward. It’s going to be weird after this, but you’re sure things will return to normal. The dynamic will repair itself and you can go back to pretending you don’t know how Parker feels about you.

You fall into a rhythm, occupying yourself by running your fingers down the back of his neck. Smothering a smile at the hum rumbling from his chest into yours, you drag your nails along the pink skin.

Parker shudders in your arms. Lips glide over the sweep of your jaw.

Mouth opening, you start to protest when he ducks down to skim his lips over yours, the kiss petal soft.

His chest heaves where it’s pressed to yours, his hips flexing against your thigh in little aborted thrusts. A damp patch blooms on the crotch of his suit, Parker whining low and wounded as he works himself up.

The downright sinful grunts and breathy groans stoking the embers of your desire, a rush of heat stealing across the bridge of your nose. Your voice cracks, "Parker, stop!”

“God, ‘m so sorry.” Hands shackle your wrists to the cushion. “I wish I could, I really do, but - I can’t, you smell so good and I…”

Your wrists twist in his grip, and press for his attention, “Peter, let go.”

A hot tongue drags over your pulse. Then a flash of teeth and gentle suction as the web slinger draws your skin into his mouth. He releases with a wet pop, pressing a tiny kiss to the abused spot.

“Let me - just a little, I promise.”

His plea gives you pause long enough for him to seize his opportunity with both hands before it floats away. The musky scent of arousal is thick in the air, saturated with a scorched spice that burns your nose but compels you all the same.

Parker’s lips tremble inches away from your own. “Can I - can I kiss you?”

The effort is sweet, but you both know he can’t do much else but submit to his whims. In fact, you encourage him to kiss you harder with a tug of his curls. He’s like a man starved of touch, all consuming as his hands stroke the curves of your body, drawing you into the breadth of his torso.

“Oh my god, ‘m so sorry I just - shit, you feel…”

It’s like being doused in gasoline; once he’s tasted you, he can’t stop.

Only pulling away long enough to get a few words out at a time. He’s hungry and searching, his tongue soft and curious where it licks along the tender inside of your lip. You moan. The obscene glide is just the right amount of filthy to get your toes curling.

“Shit, Parker.” Catching his lip on the release, you give it a teasing nip. ”Never would’ve guessed.”

“Oh, that’s...”

Never finishing the wayward thought, Parker surges forward with a new found voracity. Every kiss is different. Some are so long and deep you’re left gasping for breath. Others are nothing more than sharing space.

Any lack of finesse is more than made up for with how eager he is. It doesn’t take much for him to pick up on which way he needs to flick his tongue to get your hands in his hair or how to get those honeyed moans to tumble from your lips.

Enthusiasm gets the better of him, his hips finding a home between your thighs. And then he’s lining up with your core and rutting forward into the cradle of your body. The angle’s perfect.

The fat head of his cock nudges your clit through two layers of clothing, a rush of heat trickling down your spine like water from the muted stimulation. Sparks burst behind your eyelids, every measured grind making you aware of how messy your pussy is, panties sticking to your swollen folds.

You jerk, breath rushing from you in a low hiss.

“Did I - are you - ohh, my ghaaah…” Panting, Parker flicks his sweaty curls out of the way and white knuckles the cushion by your ribs. “You okay? Was that too much?”

His hips are slow to stop, but once he does a plaintive whine escapes at the lack of friction. His eyes are hazy and brimming with tears, shaking apart on top of you with the effort it takes to stop his mindless rutting.

It’s difficult replying through the whimper trapped at the back of your throat but you manage somehow. “No, no I’m - fine, it’s fine. Just - you can keep going.”

A livewire of raw nerves, it’s not long before Parker gets frantic again. This time he’s throwing his whole body into every thrust, his arms a cage that keeps every available inch of your body pressed to him.

He can’t decide where to settle his hands, palms hovering over your tits before dropping to the dip of your waist. They grope at your thigh and then inch up to dig into your hips. His cock throbs in time with his heartbeat, a swollen line that spreads you open with every pulse, every twitch.

The friction’s too much. Not enough. Prolongs the inevitable. Drives him higher and higher and higher - and hangs him there. One wave of burning arousal flows into another until he’s sick with the instinct to touch, suck, fuck it out of his system.

The pollen accounts for most of it but it’d be a lie to say it’s not filthy-dirty-hot how wrecked he is above you… And he’s not even buried deep inside you - yet. But god, you wish he was.

It would be a mutually beneficial resolution...

“Can - oh fuck - can smell how wet you are right now.”

The words break him, his back rippling with hitched little breaths. Finally shoved past the breaking point. You’re surprised he’s held out this long. Desperate little kisses pepper the length of your neck.

Your heart lodges somewhere in your throat, unsure of what to do. You’ve always hated seeing him upset but what the hell are you supposed to do now? Should you even do anything? He’s in so much pain but surely someone will walk through that door any minute with the antidote.

“Parker?” you ask. “What can I do?”

Cupping his face, you unstick him from your neck and search for the answer in the depths of his eyes. His skin is burning up, flushed and dewy with sweat. His curls stick to his cheeks, a wild halo scattered in all directions. His gaze is dark - full of intent. Self-control ripped to shreds, trapped in the throes of insatiable lust.

“Please, I can’t - I can’t,” Parker sobs. “...s’not enough. It still hurts.”

Damnit.

How can you say no to those pathetic eyes filled to the brim with tears. Everyone hoped it wouldn’t come to this but… Circumstances being what they are, you have to re-evaluate. He’s already suffered enough, hasn’t he?

“Have you even seen a pair of boobs in person before?”

A furrow develops between his brows and he chews on his lip, his throat bobbing. His fingers twist in the fabric of your shirt. The little shake of his head is so quick and short that you’d have missed it if you weren’t watching for it.

“Man, this is so embarrassing…”

He refuses to look at you, glaring at a spot on the couch somewhere around your shoulder and that just won’t do. Especially if you’re about to be the one to pop his top. You’d like to still have a relationship with him after all’s said and done. Can’t do that if he won’t even be able to look you in the eye.

Losing his virginity because he’s forced to is already horrible. No need to give him a complex. A split second decision has you shushing him, stroking the sweep of his cheekbone and wicking away the tears.

“It’s okay, Peter,” you say. His first name tastes far too sweet, fizzling like champagne on your tongue. “Pinky promise.”

His eyes squeeze shut, his body sagging into you, and he slurs a litany of thank you’s into your neck before preoccupying himself with nipping at your collarbone. Working a hand between the press of your bellies, you slip into the bottom half of the suit and take hold of him for the first time.

Velvet soft, he throbs in your palm and whines at the foreign touch.

“O-Ohh, haah, my - fffuhh.”

Pre-cum drools from the slit, your hand soaked after a few sloppy warm up strokes. The wet schlick of his cock sliding through your fingers gets your heart pounding and your pussy throbbing. The scent of sex teasing your senses, heavy in the air and daring you to push him over the edge he’s been straddling.

“You good?” you ask, swiping your thumb along the ridge of his cockhead. “It’s not too rough?”

He chokes on his inhale, arching back so far he’s sure to pull something.

Taking his reaction as confirmation, your nails drag through the neat thatch of hair curled around the base of his shaft. It’s a little cramped but with a little maneuvering you get your fingers around the thickness of him and gently squeeze the filled out shaft.

He jerks in your grip, hips twitching. “Shit, fuck, oh my god--”

“Mm, that’s it, Peter.” You encourage him to fuck up into the circle of your fist, playing with his weeping slit. Your strokes are languid, sure. "Use my hand, let me help you feel better.”

Who knows, maybe this’ll be enough.

“I - I want…” He breaks off with a full body shudder, curling in on himself. “--Please!”

“What is it?” Working your wrist, you jack him off faster and alternate the strength of your hold to hear him whimper. “What do you want, Peter?”

“I need,” he gasps, jaw clenching hard as he bites out, “you.”

Or not… Well, it’s no contest by this point.

“Okay.”

The suit and his boxers get tossed off to the side with little fanfare, a bundle of red, blue and plaid that’s quickly joined by yours. Seeing him naked for the first time takes away your breath, the etch of his body fucking devastating. He’s far from the mouthy teenager you met years ago.

“Oh, wow, you look…”

There’s a dopey smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, his eyes a physical caress as it roves over the exposed length of your body. They track every dip and curve, focusing on your tits and how your nipples tighten under his gaze before dipping to the apex of your thighs.

With a smirk, you shift back on the couch and stretch out, resting your heels on the overstuffed cushion. Your hands drag down the slope of your thighs, your knees falling open. Parker chokes, his eyes wide and disbelieving as he gets his first look at your pussy - your silken folds and aching clit on full display.

“You can do more than look, Peter.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice, his fingers digging into the fat of your thighs as he presses down on the backs of your knees. Slotting himself into the open space, he stares down at where his cock rests over your belly.

“Can’t believe I’ll fit inside you - you look so - fuck, so good.”

You hum, reaching down to give his shaft a few more strokes before arching your hips and working the swollen head between your folds. When it catches on the rim of your entrance, you let Parker take over.

“You feel so, so soft and wet.” His voice is full of wonder, his expression borderline pained at how hot your pussy is against his oversensitive cock. He groans, throaty and ragged. “H-Holy shit.”

The first few tentative thrusts rub him along the length of your slit but then his hips flex just right and he’s sinking forward into you cautiously. You whine softly at the slow glide, your gummy walls relaxing with every inch he gives.

It’s a tight fight and somehow that’s even hotter. Who’d have guessed unassuming Peter Benjamin Parker is so hung every inch of your pussy is stuffed full of his cock.

Cussing, he anchors himself on the backs of your thighs. When he bottoms out, its like being wrapped in liquid silk. A shaky sigh of relief follows his bitten off whimper, his expression heated and his cheeks rosy with fever.

Then, you fully relax and your gummy walls give under the pressure. Your cunt sucks him deeper, the spongy cockhead kissing your cervix with a wet squelch. Completely blissed out, he fixates on the sight of you stretching wide around the girth of his shaft.

“Ohhh my fuck-ing god.” Hovering over you, the normally sweet young man falls apart. “You’re taking my dick so well,” Parker breathes. “I…”

Abs clenching, his hips surge forward before he catches himself, his arms bunching with the effort of holding himself in check. Jaw working furiously, he fights through the feverish haze long enough for clarity to return, his eyes tortured and heavy but oh so very hungry.

“‘m sorry, that’s so rude to say, I just - I can’t - shit.

“Oh, Peter.”

You sigh, arching into his touch. Nevermind the tender sparks of pain you’ll be feeling for days, his hands a little too rough, too rude. Tiny sparks of black amid an ocean of pleasure.

He’s so deep every minute shift nudges the tip against your cervix, the veins dragging over your walls and hitting all your sensitive spots in a single stroke.

“Please, help me. Wanna make you feel good,” he barely breathes, one sentence running into the other without pause, “Wanna make you cum too but I...please.”

“Shh, shh, it’s okay. Don’t worry, I’ll show you.”

A frantic nod.

“Now why don’t you start moving, huh?”

“Yeah, yeah - I, okay, I can do that…”

Wrapping your legs around his, you use your feet to start him on a slow rhythm and use your hips as an example to show him how to move. Before long, he’s rocking down into you with long, heavy strokes.

“Feelin’ good, baby?”

“So good. Never thought - hhnng - never thought I’d get to do this with you.”

“Good, that’s good. Want you to feel good.”

“Tell me,” he says, sweaty forehead resting against yours so he can stare into your eyes. “Tell me what to do.”

“Faster,” you reply, “and try to grind up if you can.”

Shocks of pleasure settle between your thighs, one hand threading into the curls at the nape of his neck. He whines when you yank, tugging him down to press a sloppy kiss to his lips. The wood of the couch creaked with every rocking movement, the legs scraping across the floor with how hard he’s fucking into you.

“Wanted to do this for so long.” Parker’s slurring into the crook of your neck, sucking on the tender skin. “Thought about it every time I saw you.”

His body cages you in, surrounds you and fills every sense with nothing but him. Sharp hip bones smack into the backs of your thighs, his ass flexing beneath your feet as he stuffs you full of cock over and over again.

His breathing is erratic, fast and heavy with effort. After a few more thrusts, his shaft starts to throb with every sloppy roll of his hips. Clutching you closer, his face slips down to your chest where he burrows between your breasts.”I’m - I’m…”

“Peter, I swear I’ll make you regret it if you cum inside.”

“Shit - you can’t just say stuff like that.” He chokes on your name, his hands flexing on your thighs. “‘m not gonna last much longer.”

When he pulls back to look down at you, you notice how much his arms tremble. When your gazes lock, the wordless plea hidden in the depths of his eyes makes your breath rush from you in a low throated groan. Your walls ripple at the sound, slick gushing over his lap when you clench down around his shaft.

Immediately, his arms buckle.

“Fuck! You - you can’t just do that.”

Catching himself at the last second, he ruts forward desperately amid the distant sound of ripping fabric and the wet slap of his cock driving balls deep into your needy cunt.

“Not yet, Peter,” you pant into his ear, hips twisting to the side so when he slides in, the head slams into your g-spot full on. “Just a little longer, please, baby. I’m almost there too...”

The tremor starts in your limbs, your hands numb and knees weak. Every shift feels like it scrapes down your spine, your nerves hyperaware and oversensitive. It might’ve taken you a second to establish a rhythm that works for the both of you but it’s so worth it.

A yawning need takes root in your core, you reach down to brush over your clit - the swollen bundle of nerves jumping beneath the pads of your fingers. Toying with your clit, tracing your slit and feeling where he stretches you open brings you right to the edge.

The pressure builds in the base of your spine, the pool of warmth in your belly threatening to wash over you like a tidal wave. Tingles of sensation zip down your spine and through your nerves, your body locking up and your pussy clenching from the dual sensation of a cock stuffing you full and your clit pinned beneath your finger.

“Peter, right there - oh fuck - right there! I’m gonna - gonna…!”

Everything flashes black, every muscle in your body pulled taut. Your hands anchor themselves onto his shoulders, your nails scratching at his skin as you cum harder than you have in a long time. It’s a wet, messy orgasm that leaves you rung out and twitching, your pussy pulsing with every beat of your heart.

Tears slide down your cheeks and you whine, too high on euphoria to care whether or not he cums inside. After all, if he did, you could always make him clean it up with his tongue…

Hips stuttering against your ass, Parker’s mouth drops open in a soundless shout. Buried deep inside you feel his cock throb once, twice, three times before he’s ripping himself away at the last possible second.

Milky slick follows his exit, oozing out of your tender pussy and dripping down your ass to darken the fabric of the couch. Pleasure drunk, you’re almost tempted to have him pump you full but then he’s coming - finally - his shaft bobbing with every thick spurt he shoots over the top of your mound.

His sigh of relief makes you smile, half dazed while he watches his cum drip down over your abused slit. His thumbs slide over your puffy folds, spreading them to see how fucked open you are while massassing his load into your tender clit.

“So pretty ‘n it’s all because of me,” he murmurs, enchanted while you twitch with aftershocks. Between his thighs, his erection remains unflagging. “Can we keep going?”

#peter parker x reader #peter x you #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter x reader #peter parker #marvel #peter parker fanfiction

[heartdayz]

knows me crazy/soothes me daily

MINORS DNI!!!! 18+ ADULTS ONLY 

summary: After a fight, Peter takes you to the rooftop and tends to your wounds. 

pairing: tasm!peter parker x reader

content: nsfw, superhero!reader, praise, c*ckwarming, sub!peter, p in v, general nastiness???? sorry in advance 

authors note: im sorry i feel like i don’t know how to write normal smut. anyways hope u enjoyed lol

“One of us is gonna have to change.”

You squint at him through the carbon fiber of your mask, looking down to the red spandex that covers your arms. It’s hot out here, especially so with the tight fabric, so you pull your mask off to breathe heavily into the night air. Peter’s staring at you, you can tell despite his mask, and it isn’t long before he’s taking his off, too.

Underneath, his face is lightly scathed; a bruise that caresses his jawline and a cut that sharpens his nose, each one that you press a kiss to. Up here, it feels like you’re the only two people in the world, and you are – there’s nobody to see you, the tallest building in this part of the city. You and Peter and his scratched face and yours that’s red and nearly raw, tender still.

“Baby,” he murmurs, his thumb ghosting over the sight of you; his favorite thing that’s been marred at the hands of someone trying to kill him. “You need to stop following me.”

At one point, Peter got the idea that maybe you should have your own pair of webshooters to help you in fights — he had to save you from falling after you nearly passed out upon using them for the first time. He hadn’t gathered that without spidersenses, the vertigo might be overwhelming, and it was; you opted to stick to your own powers after that. It just meant you had an excuse for him to swing you places.

But now, you look down at your own suit and shrug your shoulders, “I’m used to it. S’okay.”

You try and offer him a smile — he’s hurt too, probably worse than you are. But that’s the way it always is, you taking care of him after fights, and it’s nice to see him with soft eyes and so much love to spread between the two of you. That’s just the way Peter always was. So much love inside of him.

And you can’t lie and say you’re okay, because it kind of feels like every breath is caught on broken glass, and your ears are still ringing from the firing of the guns. Peter hadn’t mentioned anything about those, not that he usually does, it would just have been nice to know. But still, if you could help him in a fight, even if your powers weren’t as refined as his, you would do it a thousand times over.

This always made it worth it.

He grabs you by the face, fingers pinching your cheeks in, and you wince greatly — the bruises there were still tender and he only made them enflame. Peter whispers an apology before moving his hand to somewhere that’s not wounded, finding his hand to rest at the base of your neck, two fingers controlling the movement of your jaw, and he smirks down at you. From where you were standing, he’s laid you gently on the smoothed concrete of the rooftop, head pressed against your masks that are balled up under your head to make a pillow.

“Ow,” you say, your lips pressed against his. He smirks into you, and you can tell he’s got the urge to press in a little bit harder. But he doesn’t — instead, Peter lets his hips fall into yours a little bit harder, shamelessly runting against you in the darkness.

You can feel his urgency and smirk to yourself, knowing that in this state he would do anything — so you push up and take off your suit quickly, unzipping his down the front and pulling him out.

With some stage of cockiness, you pin him to the ground, kissing him hotly. He smiles into you and you let your knees brush the hard ground on either side of him before settling, kneeling above him like a vulture, your tongue swiping along his jawline.

Peter, for a second, tries to flip you over, but fails as you grasp his wrist and place it gently next to his head, glare knowing. He only makes a small noise when you line yourself up, pressing against him so lightly.

When you feel him slip inside of you, the groan leaves his mouth in time with your strangled gasp — you feel so bare like this, mostly naked atop him, taking him in so freely. You try to remind yourself that nobody can see you here but it feels like all of New York is watching you fuck Spider-Man.

What a gift for saving the city.

His eyes, deep brown, stare back at you like saucers in the lights. Peter knows how much control he has over you at any given point, so you almost miss mark of the mission, and start to move your hips slowly. With a shake of your head, though, you regain your thoughts and sink completely; flush together, completely sheathed.

Peter, in natural fashion, can never keep quiet in times like these. Within a second he’s cooing at you, “oh my god, baby, you’re so good. Look at you.”

And you do — you look down, smiling at the spot where you rest on him, his hip bones poking out into his skin, pulled taut where he’s thinnest. Peter, a lengthy thing, is all tightness and pulled over; you are soft, something he loves, and he gathers a piece of your ass in his hand as he tries to move you, but you don’t budge.

“What are you doing, baby,” he says, and you feel him twitch inside of you. It feels so nice, sitting right here, and you almost never want to get off.

You smile at him, “just sitting here.”

He responds by trying to move his hips, to jut into you, but you dig your hands into where his bones poke out and push him into the concrete. With deftness, you use your powers to bind him to the floor, small green tendrils wrapping his wrists.

“I didn’t tell you to move, pretty boy,” you muse, watching him squirm on the new sensation of something holding him down. And he is pretty, so much so that you almost feel bad teasing him. Almost. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

Peter leans into the touch that follows, the caressing of his cheek, red with want and slight embarrassment. He’s still hard inside of you, and you can feel the warmth it gives; Peter, always hot and you, always cold.

Through pink lips he begs, “please.”

You smile at him, lifting up ever so slightly, and he hums at the movement, sighing so melodically into the mostly silent air. It seems as if New York has gone quiet. “Why are you begging, honey? You know I always make you feel good.”

“You’re being mean,” he says, tears welling up in his eyes. You slide a hand over his chest, leaning over and you feel him move inside of you, as you lean down to bite his neck. He moves his head, giving you the plane of his collarbone to work with, hoping that a reward will come for being so cooperative in the process. With a smile, you put a thumb over his lips and watch as he takes it in, soaks it, and returns it back to you hotly.

“So good,” you reprise.

And with that, you raise off him, taking him right in again immediately, and Peter jerks at the contact, moaning dirtily with his eyes pointed to the sky. With each stroke he comes apart even more, barely being able to take it, and you release his hands from the confines so that he can grab your waist and play with your hair as you fuck him so graciously.

“I’m about to come, baby,” you hear him say, his lips pressed against your chest. But you stay atop him, trying even harder, and you feel the warmness spread as he does, right inside of you.

Peter’s breathing so heavily, his forehead covered in sweat, and watches as you raise off of him, himself still dripping out of you. His mouth is hung open in a mixture of shock and arousal still, and you reach down to get some with your fingers, pressing it to your lips. “Are you gonna clean up your mess, my pretty boy?”

And you know in moments like these that you’ll love Peter forever, in the way he tenderly presses you into the concrete floor and wordlessly licks everything off of you, even if the mess is one you knowingly made. It’s even more clear when he finally spreads you open, treats you so nicely and never teases, only tries so hard to get you there as fast as possible, even when your fingernails dig into his scalp and push him in when he can’t go any further.

When you finally fall apart, you do so in anyway but gracefully, full of powerful moans and obscenities that border on blasphemy. And afterwards he sits there, between your slick legs, tending to a cut wound you hadn’t seen earlier, the mess still there on top of you and glistening. Afterwards, he returns once more, and soulfully does it again, this time with his fingers as he stares into your eyes, making you whisper sweet nothings that mean everything into the air.

When you dress again, he zips up the back of your suit with nimble fingers and you do so with his. You’re about to jump from the building and scale your way down when you realize you don’t have your mask, and frown when he holds them both up, damp with sweat. You laugh, crinkling your nose, and you bury your head into Peter’s chest as he swings you both through the city.

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x reader smut #peter parker smut #the amazing spider-man #tasm peter parker #tasm peter x reader #peter parker imagine

[wizardofrozz]

Prompt 6: Ghost

Thor Odinson x Asgardian!Reader, past Natasha Romanoff x Bucky Barnes, Loki Laufeyson, Tony Stark, Peter Parker, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, Wanda Maximoff, Bruce Banner, Clint Barton and family, mention of Pepper Potts, mention of Morgan Stark, mention of Happy Hogan

Word Count: 2,570

Warnings: mention of character death, grief, slight swearing

A/N: Italics are what only the reader can hear

Knowing the fight was over should’ve made me ecstatic, but instead, it left an empty void in the middle of the chest, stealing my breath at the most impromptu times. The remaining Avengers rented a couple of houses near Tony’s cabin for a few days after his funeral. The morning after Tony’s funeral, I stood on the porch of the place I was staying in with Thor, Bucky, Wanda, and Sam, sipping at my coffee as the sun peaked over the lake. I could see the outlines of Peter, May, Steve, and Bruce moving around in the house next door.

           “Mornin’ buttercup.” Sam’s voice shocked me out of my thoughts, my coffee sloshing over the lip of the mug from the sudden movement.

           “Morning, Sam,” I hummed, taking a deep breath.

           “Where’s your God-shaped tail?” Sam leaned against the railing next to me, the sun lighting up his dark eyes, making them shine.

           “He was gone when I got up this morning,” I sighed, running my fingers through my knotted hair. “He’s not doing too well.”

           “No one is,” Sam whispered, dropping his head. I recognized the thumping of footsteps behind me, smiling softly at the lake.

           “Morning Buck,” I called, hearing the snort from the doorway.

           “How do you know my footsteps so well,” Bucky chuckled, moving across the porch.

           “Force of habit,” I laughed, leaning into him when he pressed a kiss to my hair.

           “How you doing, honey,” Bucky breathed, wrapping his metal arm around my shoulders.

           “I’m…” I started, letting out a shaky breath. “I’m alright. I’d be better if I knew where my man was.”

           “He wandered off this morning. I saw him walking down along the lake,” Bucky offered, squeezing me against him. “He looks good now that he let you cut his hair.”

           “I think he feels better now that he’s cleaned up a little,” I added, nodding against Bucky’s shoulder. “Those five years were harder for us than anyone knows, and especially for him.”

           “And no one checked on you guys,” Sam stated, shaking his head.

           “I don’t blame them,” I huffed, reaching out for Sam to pull him closer. “No one was in a position to deal with what was going on.” The three of us stood huddle on the porch, leaning into each other and staring out at the water.

           “Hey, guys!” Peter yelled from the other porch, waving.

           “Morning!” “Hey, Pete.” “Hey.” The three of us yelled, moving apart and closer to the edge of the porch.

           “Steve wants to have a team night tonight,” Peter yelled, sitting on the edge of his porch. “You guys in?”

           “Buck and I will be there,” Sam called, smacking Bucky’s shoulder.

           “Yeah,” I shouted. “Thor shouldn’t have a problem with that, and I’ll make sure Wanda’s fine with it too.”

           “I’ll let Steve know,” Peter assured, a slight smile tugging at his lips.

           “Come on,” Sam urged, gently pushing Bucky and me towards the door. “Let’s get breakfast going.” The three of us sighed and waved to Peter before shuffling into the house to find Wanda and start on breakfast.

Thor appeared sometime after lunch when I was standing at the sink in the kitchen, watching Wanda, Bucky, Steve, Sam, and Peter skipping rocks on the lake. Giant arms snaked around my waist, tugging me back against the soft slopes of the God of Thunder.

           “There you are,” I whispered, leaning into Thor’s embrace.

           “I’m sorry I disappeared,” Thor sighed into my hair, nuzzling closer. “I…I needed some time to myself.” The tension slowly left my body as I relaxed against him, sucking in a shaky breath; Thor sniffled against my shoulder, quickly hiding his face against my neck.

           “I know,” I croaked, turning my head against his.

           “I miss him.” I didn’t have to ask who he meant; I knew who he was referring to because I missed him just as much. “I miss all of them.”

           “We all do, my love,” I mumbled shakily. Before Thor could stop me, I turned in his grip, throwing my arms around his shoulders and hugging him close. That’s how the rest of the Avengers found us before they quietly backed out of the room.

Steve had started a fire between the two houses while Bruce, Sam, Bucky, Clint, and Peter set up chairs for everyone. Wanda, May, Laura, and the Barton kids filled a few coolers with drinks while Thor helped me finish dinner. Once everything was set up, the Avengers and company wandered into the small, rented home, filling their bowls with chicken and dumplings before filing out of the house again.

           “Hey Thor,” Sam called when Thor and I settled into our chairs. “Got any Asgardian ladies looking for a man because if they can cook like yours can, sign me up.”

           “I second that!” Steve laughed around a mouthful.

           “You too, Bucky,” Thor chuckled, nudging the super-soldier next to him.

           “Ha, yeah,” Bucky laughed dryly, shoving another bite in his mouth. I watched Bucky chew for a few seconds, his face falling every time his teeth came together. “You know, Natasha couldn’t cook for shit,” Bucky laughed, smiling sadly at his bowl.

           “Oh god, remember that pie she made,” I snorted, covering my mouth.

           “That was….uhhh.” Bucky shivered at the memory, but he still grinned, shaking his head.

           “Well, I’m sure the Red Room didn’t have cooking classes,” Steve laughed.

           “She got out years before that, though!” Thor argued, his mouth twisting up in a slight smile as he shook his head.

           “Yeah, she told me to blow her anytime I brought it up in Romania,” Bucky chuckled, his cheeks taking on a slight pink tint.

           “So she did find you before me!” Steve shouted, pointing at his best friend.

           “Stevie,” Bucky started, swallowing his bite before speaking again. “She found me the day after I left.”

           “I can’t believe her,” Steve gasped, clutching at his chest. Everyone erupted into laughter, and Peter ended up spitting out his bite, spraying May with food, only making the group laugh harder. A sudden movement out of the corner of my eye made my laughter turn to ash in my mouth. A faint, shapeless figure moved behind Bucky as he took another bite of his dinner.

           “I like this,” Wanda spoke up suddenly. “I want to hear more about them.” She turned her eyes on Thor, a gentle smile gracing us for the first time in days, and he squirmed under her gaze. “Thor, do you have a story about your brother?”

           “Uh,” Thor hummed, rubbing a nervous hand over his thigh. “There was the time” -Thor couldn’t help but smile and laugh softly- “when he was still learning magic and accidentally teleported himself into my wardrobe.” Laughter rang out in the quiet space, and my face fell slowly when another misty shape started to take form next to the already existing shape behind Bucky. The figures seemed to reach for each other, and as soon as they touched, features started to come into focus, and my heart clenched, bringing tears to my eyes.

           That story is not that funny, Loki grumbled, rolling his eyes.

           Actually, it was, Nat giggled, glancing up at the God. At least they stopped talking about my cooking.

           You couldn’t even make a pie, Loki chided, shaking his head.

           Oh, I can vouch for that. Another figure started to take shape, and the first clear feature was Tony’s unmistakable smirk.

           “Hey. Earth to (Y/N),” Clint called, snapping his fingers.

           “What?” I snapped my head back to the circle of people around me, noticing the worried expressions looking back at me.

           “What’s wrong, darling,” Thor urged, cupping the back of my head, forcing me to look at him.

           “What do you mean? I’m fine,” I replied, trying to laugh it off.

           “Honey,” Bucky cut in. “You’re crying.” I reached up to find my cheeks wet with tears, and I flickered my eyes back to Thor’s.

           “We don’t have to keep talking about them,” Wanda tried, dropping her eyes to her lap. I shifted my eyes over Thor’s shoulder, noticing Loki, Tony, and Nat watching me before they all dropped their eyes to the ground again.

           I wish they at least knew we were here, Nat sighed, leaning her head against Tony’s shoulder.

           Me too, Loki sighed.

           “I do,” I whispered. Loki froze, slowly blinking as he raised his head, his now dull green eyes meeting mine; I watched realization spread across his face.

           “You do what?” Steve cut in, drawing my attention back to the Avengers.

           You can see us! How could I forget? Loki laughed over Steve.

           “Really,” I sighed, flickering my eyes back to the God of Mischief. “You of all people should know I can see you, Loki.” As soon as the name left my mouth, everyone around me seemed to go still.

           “Loki?” Peter asked, narrowing his eyes at me.

           Well, might as well tell them I joined the party too, Nat laughed, winking at me. I’m sure Barnes will be glad to know.

           Hey! Don’t forget me, Tony whined, earning an eye roll from Loki and Nat.

           “I’m sure Bucky” -I glanced over at Bucky- “will be glad to know nothing changed. And don’t worry Stark, I can’t forget you.” The Avengers sat in silence for a few more seconds before Bruce finally spoke up.

           “(Y/N), who are you talking to?”

           “I forgot,” Thor breathed, drawing my eyes back to him. Tears pooled in his eyes as a smile stretched across his face. “Loki’s here?”

           Where the hell else would I be? Loki rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest, but I could see the way his jaw clenched.

           “He asked where else would he be,” I giggled, bringing my hand up to cup Thor’s face. He turned in his chair, looking in the general direction my eyes kept wandering to.

           “Okay,” Bucky snapped. “What the hell’s going on?”

           “I’m sorry, everyone,” I started, sitting up straighter in my chair. “Thor decided it was better not to tell you about some of my other abilities, or that I’m not 100% Asgardian.”

           “Okay?” Clint hummed, narrowing his eyes at me.

           “Part of my lineage is in the spirit realm. I’m Asgardian, but my mother was a spirit deity, so my connection to those that have passed on is stronger than anyone else’s.” Thor squeezed the back of my neck again, but I didn’t take my eyes off the group in front of me.

           “So you can see ghosts?” Peter finally asked.

           “Some, yes,” I started, glancing over to where Loki, Nat, and Tony were waiting patiently. “I believe I can only see Nat and Tony right now because, in a way, Loki is lending them some of his power.”

           Reindeer games, you big softy, Tony chuckled, smacking Loki.

           “Be nice, Tony, or he’ll take it back,” I laughed, catching the dirty look Loki was giving him.

           Don’t ruin this, Stark! Nat snapped, shoving Tony away.

           “Brother, give him some leeway,” Thor snorted, glancing behind Bucky again. Bucky seemed to notice where our eyes kept darting to and turned in his chair.

           “Nat?” Bucky whispered, gripping the arm of his chair tight enough that the plastic groaned.

           James, Nat hummed softly, her eyes darting around his face. Tell him…tell him I love him.

           “Bucky.” He sucked in a choppy breath before he turned to look at me again, and I almost crumbled when his tear-filled eyes met mine. “She said she loves you.” A wounded sound fell from his lips as he dropped his head in his hands, his long hair hanging like a curtain around his face.

           “I love you too,” he whispered.

           Tell him to cut his damn hair too, Nat added with a sad, trembling smile.

           “She said to cut your damn hair.” Bucky barked out a laugh, shaking his head, so his hair swung back and forth; he eventually looked up again with tear-stained cheeks but a small smile.

           “Thank you,” he whispered. I continued to pass messages back and forth between the team, and Laura called Pepper, Morgan, and Happy, bringing them in on the conversation. As it got later, the team started to drift off, saying their goodnights and wandering off to bed; Bucky, Steve, and Sam were the last ones left other than Thor and me.

           (Y/N), Nat called, grabbing my attention as I said goodnight to the boys. Could you possibly let me talk to Barnes again sometime? I didn’t want to give away what Nat had asked, so I only nodded, earning another sad smile from her. Once Steve, Sam, and Bucky disappeared inside, Thor and I turned back to the three spirits watching us.

           I guess we should let you three have a moment, Tony sighed, rolling his eyes playfully. We’ll see you again soon, kiddo.

           Thank you, Nat whispered. The pair slowly faded away as Loki pulled his power away again until he was the only one left.

           I wish he could see me, Loki sighed, dropping his head.

           “I’m not strong enough to let everyone see, but I think one person wouldn’t be too hard,” I giggled, reaching for Thor’s hand. My tiny hand disappeared in Thor’s, and he looked down at me, raising a questioning brow, opening his mouth to ask something, but Loki spoke first.

           Will that work? Thor’s head snapped up, his eyes quickly finding the dim silhouette of his brother standing a few feet away.

           “Loki,” he breathed.

           Hello, brother, Loki whispered, a genuine smile lighting up his face.

           “I never thought I’d see you again.” Thor took a step closer, reaching his free hand towards his brother, but Loki shook his head.

           There’s nothing solid about me, brother. Loki looked just as hurt by the realization as Thor, and they just stood there, staring at each other.

           “You’re not in any pain, right?”

           I’m okay, Thor. It’s hard to feel physical pain when I have no body, Loki laughed wryly, dropping his gaze to the ground again. As much as I’d love to stay and chat, I think it’s time you take my sister-in-law to bed. This is taking too much energy from her.

           “Loki, I’m fine,” I tried to argue.

           I can feel it, darling, Loki shot back, fixing me with a glare. Go, you will see me again.

Thor moved to reach out again but stopped short, his arm smacking against his thigh when he dropped it. “I love you, brother; please don’t forget that.” Loki’s face softened, and for a moment, I thought I saw tears welling up in his eyes, but he blinked, and it was gone.

           I love you too—both of you. Now go, we’ll meet again, Loki assured, a smile spreading across his face. Before Thor could argue, Loki’s image started to disappear until we were left staring at an empty patch of grass. We stayed staring at the spot until a yawn surprised me, snapping Thor out of his trance. He looked over at me, trails of tears glistening in the moonlight before he swept me off my feet into a tight hug.

           “Thank you, my love,” Thor whispered against my shoulder. “Thank you so much.” Thor eventually carried me inside, gently placing me on our bed before crawling under the covers with me. I fell asleep that night happier than I’d been in a long time.

Masterlist

Taglist:

@marvelfansworld​ 

#spooktober #thor x reader #thor x asgardian!reader #bucky x natasha #winterwidow #thor odinson #loki laufeyson #bucky barnes #natasha romanoff #tony stark #asgardian reader #stever rogers #peter parker #ghosts #marvel #mcu #sam wilson #wanda maximoff #clint barton #bruce banner #barton family #pepper potts #happy hogan #morgan stark

[spideyanakin]

Photograph

Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

No way home spoilers!

Synopsis - After Dr.Strange's last spell, Peter finds a way to make you remember him.

Masterlist 🧚🏻‍♀️

Peter Parker Masterlist 🌻

Listsen to Photograph by Ed Sheeran :)

November

Peter snuggled a little more into his bed as the previous day's events flashed back to him. He turned around, his back cracking as he moved. The pain from the wounds slowly coming back.

Looking up to his ceiling - he sighed.

He was a shoe box of an apartment, and no one remembered who he was.

Not even you.

He tried to push back the tears as much as he could, but your face was the only thing that could go through his mind.

"You will all forget me" Peter looked down the his feet before looking back up to meet Ned's eyes and yours.

"What?" You took a step closer.

"It's the only way Y/n/n" He took your hand and your heart suddenly did loops in your chest at the realization.

You were really not going to remember Peter?

Your Peter?

It seemed impossible.

"Peter I- I can't loose you." You felt the tears starting to rise and your lungs were being stubborn "Peter-"

"It will be ok." He placed a hand to your cheek. "I will come to you and you'll remember everything."

"What if I don't?" You sniffed. "Peter I-"

"I'll make you remember."

Your last kiss was still ghosting over his lips, and his shirt still smelled like you from the last time you borrowed it.

He closed his eyes and shivered, making a mental note to turn on the heater when he finally decided to get out of bed.

When he finally found the will to open his eyes to grab his phone from the bed side table - he second he turned his head around he was met with a picture of the two of you. His stare lingered a little on it before he decided to do the worst thing he could have done in that moment - check the news.

Three quarters of the articles were talking about Spider-man and what ever the heck had happened the other day.

But what he hated the most were the articles about you.

Nymph.

The headlines about how 'Tony Stark's daughter helping Spider-man even after his criminal acts' or 'Nymph - AKA Y/n Stark spotted at the Statue of Liberty fight'

So in his new version of reality, you at least knew who Spider-man was. He would get to see you.

He got butterflies in his stomach as he wondered how you were handling it all. Loosing your dad and getting attacked on a trip to Venice only to have a villain rub every single one of your insecurities on you wasn't the best for your mental health.

But that's when he realized.

You might not even remember Venice.

In your memories were you ever at Midtown high?

He realized he wasn't even remembered there.

That spiral of thought only made him throw his phone to the other side of his apartment, close his eyes again and bury himself under the covers.

~

A few days later, when he finally decided to put his suit back on and look in the mirror he knew he had to change his suit. It suddenly felt odd. Like it was his sign to fully change the chapter and by doing that - change his suit.

But he didn't want to think about that just yet, he needed to swing to clear his mind.

Going through the familiar buildings, he tried his best not think of you. But every street corner, every building reminding him of you. It was an impossible mission.

So instead of fighting with himself he gave in, he went to sit on your favorite building. The one where you first kissed, the one where he had told you he loved you for the first time, the one where he hoped to ask you to marry him some day.

He sat down and let the comforting feeling pass through him.

Dangling his feet from the side of the building, he admired the Avengers tower. Smiling when he remembered the time you convinced your father to keep it.

He watched the Empire State Building, remembering the moments you fought a flying villain that took himself for Donkey Kong. Shivering a little, he wrapped his arms around himself - soaking into all that nostalgia.

He fished around a tight pocket of his suit and grabbed the last thing that still proved to him your relationship was real - a photograph.

You were kissing his cheek in Venice, right before Mysterio had decided to attack. You had taken the picture with your stupid bright pink polaroid that Peter hated because the flash always hurted his eyes. But now he was glad that you had kept it and took that picture.

He had to find a way to see you again, because if he didn't, he didn't know how he could live without you in his world.

But how in the world was he going to do that?

"I was wondering where you went." A soft familiar voice made him jump. "We save New York together and then you disappear for a few days? Not good spider-man." He thought he was going to faint. Not daring to turn around.

What if this was a trick?

But when he turned around he was met with your familiar sight.

You stood there in front of him, in the same suit he loved so much. Your mask only hiding your eyes, but you were quick to click a button on the side of your ear that made it disappear into a barrette lodged in your hair.

He gulped when he saw your fully uncovered face.

"You look like you've seen a ghost." You chuckled as you sat next to him. "Maybe I should exchange you for Spider-man 2 or 3" You shook your head and Peter had to remind himself how to breath from how close the two of you were sitting. "You're acting weird." you poked his shoulder. "This isn't like you, Spidey."

"Sorry." He shook his head, noticing how you didn't call him Peter. "I was just lost in thoughts."

"I can see that." You smiled. "I was wondering, do you and the other spider-mans all look the same under the mask?" You bumped your shoulder into his, but when he didn't reply to your joke, you frowned. "You sure you're ok?" You seemed to be leaning a little closer and he thanked his mask because it hid the way his cheeks became bright red.

"Yeah." He had to tear his stare away from you to look at the view instead. "How about you? You seem to be well for someone who just saved the world?"

"Believe me I'm not." You sighed. "Just seeing you is cheering me up."

"Really?" He didn't realize how his voice cracked.

"I don't want to talk about it right now." You sighed and stretched your legs. "I need a distraction."

"Same to be honest." He cleared his throat. "Ok, this might sound weird."

"I can do with weird."

"Can you remind me what happened the other day? On your side." He had no clue how the magic played with your memory.

"Oh well..." You looked up at the sky as you remembered. "I was about to meet you for our daily patrol." it warmed his heart a little that the two of you were close as super heroes, which seemed to cheer him up a little. "When you weren't there I got confused, and then I heard about that building that exploded and the goblin dude and I ended up helping you at the Statue of Liberty. Then you left." you frowned. "I went back home, I think. Yeah. I also heard that Happy's girlfriend died - I think she knew you, didn't she?" His heart dropped a little, you were talking about May.

"Y- yeah." He stumbled on his words.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Spidey." You patted his shoulder.

"Thanks." He sighed again.

"I think we should go save the neighborhood, Spiderman." You grinned as you stood up.

"Yeah, I think we should."

December

"Spider-man?" Peter shot up when he heard your soft voice, turning around to be met with a sight that broke his heart.

"Hey what's wrong?" His face fell when he say your puffy red eyes.

"I-" You could barely form a sentence, the sobs were cascading by themselves. You took a step closer, opening your arms so that you could fall onto Peter.

"Hey it's ok." Peter wrapped his arms around you, rubbing circles on your back. "I'm here, it's ok."

"I- I can't take this anymore." You sniffed. "The pressure- I- Everyone expects me to be great. To continue my dad's legacy but it's too hard." You cried.

Peter's heart sunk in his chest.

He had seem to forget how much your father's legacy had affected you. Everyone was expecting greatness from you, and back when you still remembered Peter he was always there to help you carry that burden.

"What happened?" He whispered and you tightened your grip on him.

"Everything." You wiped your eyes as you slightly pulled away too look at Spider-man's masked face. "Happy is helping but I feel so lonely." This time it was Peter's turn to grip you a tighter. "I feel like my life is just- empty."

This shattered his heart to pieces. It was at this moment, he was truly realizing how much he had meant to you. He wanted to kiss you, wipe away your tears and tell you everything would be alright.

But life didn't seem to work that way.

"I could help you with some stuff?"

"No." You shook your head. "I won't bother you with this. Plus if you do it will endanger your identity, and I know how much it means to you." You pointed out and Peter felt something heavy in the pit of his stomach.

So that's what the magic had made you think. That his identity being a secret was the most important thing to him.

He didn't even know what to reply.

"You don't any other friends to talk too?" He wondered.

"No." You sniffed. "All my friends are either dead, in space or are a 50 years old man who's grieving a girlfriend he never had." You deadpanned. "You're the only one around my age, I guess."

And that's when he realized, without him you never met Ned or MJ.

"We need to get you other friends." He chuckled.

"Oh I'm friends with a wizard too."

"A wizard?" He smiled.

"Yeah."

Wait a minute.

If you were friends with Dr. Strange then maybe he could make you remember.

"What's his name." You sensed Peter's sudden excitement at the fact that you knew a wizard and frowned a little.

"Stephen Strange"

Bingo.

"Do you think we could go meet him together? When ever you want." He squeezed your shoulder a little bit.

"Yeah. Sure. But why would you want to see a wizard?" You chuckled a little.

Peter looked into your eyes, waiting a few seconds before answering.

"Nothing you should worry about."

~

The air was getting colder and colder as the days passed.

Shoving your hands in your coat pockets you walked next to Happy while you roamed the cemetery.

Playing with the rose in your fingers you wondered how she was related to Spider-man. A family friend? A family member? His mom? His aunt? You didn't dare ask Happy - he was too devastated.

You looked up to see him sniff and wipe his eyes. Hooking your arm with his, you rested your head on his shoulder.

"It's going to be ok."

"I hope so, kid." was all he said as you continued your way.

You were surprised to see a boy around your age already standing at the grave. He had a large coat and a winter cap that had a few colors on it.

You stopped next to him, Happy taking a second to drop flowers and take a minute of silence. You dropped your rose and stayed next to Happy, stealing glances at the boy next to you.

You couldn't see much of his figure as it was buried in layers of coats, but you had to admit he was handsome.

Him and May Parker must have been close because you could see the longing in his stare and the way his eyes were glossy. It made your heart ache for the boy.

"How did you know her?" Happy broke the silence and you looked down to your shoes as the boy replied.

"Through Spider-man." If you didn't know what the he looked like you would have sworn on your life that Spider-man was next to you. The exact same voice, the same tone.

You lifted your head and met his stare and your breath caught in your throat. It was the most beautiful pair of eyes you had ever seen.

The sunlight was hitting his eyes just in the right angles, making golden flakes appear.

You stayed like that for a few seconds, the two of you staring at each other. You felt like he knew something you didn't. You looked at him with question written all over your eyes.

If Peter hadn't been so distracted he would have maybe realized that you were suddenly sensing he was Spider-man.

"Same." Happy replied and Peter ended up nodding - breaking the contact with you and looking back to the grave.

Christmas Eve

"Merry Christmas" You cheered as you sat next to Spider-man on your usual spot.

"Merry Christmas"

"Wow is that a new suit?" You blinked at the sight. "Very flashy."

"I know right? Do you like it?" He did a twirl just for you.

"I love it. Blue and red? Brilliant. It makes me think of the suit my dad had made you." You smiled at the memory.

"It was a great inspiration in the creation of this suit."

"It also looks like the other Spider-mans as well. I like it."

"I'm glad you do."

"How was your evening?" You wondered as you started unpacking things from your bag, including a bag of cookies you placed in between the two of you.

"Very nice." You could hear the smile in his tone as he watched you remove a wrapped gift from the bottom of your bag.

"This is for you." You handed him the box and Peter turned to his side to grab his gift for you.

"I have something for you too."

"Aww thanks, spidey" you almost wanted to lean in to kiss his cheek, but you were quickly stopped by the fact that his mask was covering his cheeks. "I wonder what it is." You grinned.

"Open yours first."

Without arguing you started opening the gift, growing more and more curious by the second.

Once you got rid of all the wrapper and excess paper, you were face to face with a small blue box, raising an eyebrow at the sight.

"C'mon open it!"

You let the top part of the box slide away, using your hands to pull the bottom towards you. Once the two parts were separated, and you looked at the content of the box - you raised an eyebrow.

It was a ring?

A thick silver band with black marks - it almost looked electronic.

"Care too explain?"

"Don’t worry, I’m not asking you to marry me." He chuckled at the look on your face.

"thank god?" You still had question written all over your face.

"You're always complaining about how you've got too much to do and feel lonely. So I used part of the tech from my old suit to build this." He took the box from your hand and removed the ring. "Try it on."

You took the ring and placed it on the first finger you found suitable. To your surprise - the ring slipped on like a charm and it actually looked pretty good on you.

Suddenly the black marks on it turned blue and the ring became thinner as it took its place on your finger.

"Think of a shape you want it to be." you did as he said and the ring started moving to take place as a double ring over two fingers.

"Nano tech?"

"I used bits of the iron spider suit too."

"The iron spider suit? My dad made it for you-"

"Extra bits that didn't fit, don't worry. I'd never tare down my iron spider suit."

"Good."

"Ok, now do my web shooting pose thing."

You looked at him weirdly before doing it.

Suddenly an hologram call appeared right in front of you.

"Hello!" Peter grinned as he said it.

"Hello!" The hologram screen repeated.

"So you can call me anytime!" Peter said next to you and barely a millisecond later the Peter on the hologram repeated.

You were speechless.

"Because we don’t have our personal numbers and plus this is quicker"

"I-" You turned between him and the hologram. "Thank you." You shook your hand making the call disappear and wrapped your arms around him. "My gift sucks compared to yours." You mumbled in his chest, too embarrassed to pull away when you felt small tears about to rise.

"No way, I'm sure it's really good."

You stayed a moment in his embrace as you composed yourself, and when you finally pulled away he took your present and opened it for himself.

"See, it sucks" You chuckled as the stupidity of your gift.

"Don't say that I love it." He giggled with you as he raised your gift in the air.

"I made it myself if it helps."

You both admired your work. It was a large white t-shirt with a picture of Spider-man in a weird position that made his ass stand out. There was a tittle on top that said 'Queen's best ass'. You turned around to look at each other and bursted out laughing.

"I seriously love it." He nodded before slipping the shirt on top of his suit. "I wouldn't trade this gift for the world, Y/n/n."

"It looks good on you."

"I got something else for you." Peter smiled as he turned to his other side and grabbed two miraculously still warm drinks. "I got you a soy milk hot chocolate because I know you hate normal milk and with extra mashrmallows"

"I never told you I hated normal milk?"

Peter froze.

"Didn't you?" He played it cool, but inside he was flipping out.

"I don't remember." you frowned.

'That's because you told Peter. Not Spider-man' he thought.

"Well anyways, thank you for remembering."

"My pleasure."

"I have something else for you too." You smiled before taking a sip of the hot chocolate. "I got you a meeting with Dr.Strange."

"Really?"

"Yeah." You smiled. "He wants to meet you after tomorrow."

"Drop your hot chocolate." He felt like he was about to explode.

"Sorry?"

"Put it down now or you will regret it." You questioned Spider-man but obeyed.

What you didn't expect was that the second the chocolate had hit the ground, Peter slammed into you making both you fall from the edge of the building and onto the rooftop.

"Thank you." He hugged you so tight you thought he was going to squeeze the air out of you.

"You're welcome, Spider-man." you chuckled. "I didn't know it would make you this happy." You patted his back, resting your chin on his shoulder.

"You don't know how happy this makes me." You didn't expect to hear him sniff.

"Are you crying?" You squeezed his shoulder and pulled him away from you.

"No." As he said that a small sob escaped his lips.

"Aww." You smiled.

"Stop mocking me!" He whined.

"I'm not! I'm finding this cute!"

December 26

So that's how you found yourself at 177A Bleecker Street, standing in front of a large wooden staircase and feeling Dr. Strange's stare as Spider-man awkwardly shifted in the room.

"Sir." He took a large breath before removing his mask.

You took a step back in shock. First because of how that was the first time Spider man ever removed his mask in front of you, and second because It was indeed the boy you saw at the cemetery.

But damm he looked even better.

You admired as his curls loosely fell in an unorganized fashion, and his freckles seemed to be a little more present than the day you saw him.

"You might not know who I am, but my name is Peter Parker."

'Parker… just like May' you thought.

"Almost two months ago you helped me perform a spell to make people forget I was Spider-man. Because of me the spell got out of hand, and that's how all these other spider-mans and villains came to New York. The only way to fix things was to make everyone forget me, forget Peter Parker."

You froze as you listened to his words. If this was true, did you know Peter Parker before that spell? You swore to yourself you would have remembered him. How could you forget the way he made you feel?

"I come here today because I can't take it anymore. I want to know if you would make just one person remember me, please." He turned to you. "I need her to remember me." You for your answer - you did know Peter Parker.

Or at least use to know Peter Parker.

Your face softened and your heart started to beat a little faster in your chest at the look in his eyes.

Dr. Strange stayed speechless before looking at Peter and scratching the back of his head.

"Only one person?"

"Please, just her. I promise."

"STRANGE DON'T YOU DARE TRY ANYTHING!" A voice came from the back of the room - which you later learned was Wong.

Stephen rolled his eyes and looked back to the two of you.

"Follow me."

"I knew your identity?" You whispered to Peter as you followed Strange through the halls and stairways of his home.

"You did." You could see the pain in his eyes.

"How- What-"

"It's too long to explain." He grabbed your hand and gave it a squeeze before kissing your knuckles "If this goes well, you'll remember."

The next second you were standing in front of a cauldron, looking at Dr.Strange in question as he flipped through the pages of his book.

"So you say no one remembers you?"

"No."

"Ok." He frowned. "Im going to try something, but this spell has never been tried before. Everything needs a first, I guess." He cracked his knuckles. "You sure about this, kid?"

"Yes."

"Ok. I need something that proves the two of you knew each other before the spell." He spoke as he read.

Peter's eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. He quickly grabbed the picture that he always kept and handed it too Strange.

Your heart beated a little faster when you saw what the picture was. It was the two of you kissing, in a place you didn't regonise. You didn't even know you owned a polaroid.

So you started to believe him.

'Maybe that's why you felt so lonely' you thought. You probably spent months together - probably as long as you knew Spider-man. The fact that his identity was a secret was just a magic trick. Peter Parker had been in your life for years, you just didn’t know.

You watched as red lights flashed before your eyes. Stephen muttered words that you didn't understand making you grab Peter's hand - suddenly feeling nervous. He squeezed yours back.

Loops of red writing started to appear around you, and in the click of a finger the loops got sucked into you.

If something was suppose to happen, it didn't.

Because you still had no memories of a past with Peter Parker, or where you took that picture.

You still felt empty. Still felt like something was missing.

"Y/n?" You could see the hope in Peter's eyes, and your heart shattered to pieces.

"I- I'm sorry." His shoulders fell and his hand slipped away from yours in defeat. He let his hands climb to his hair, tugging on them in frustration.

"I'm sorry kid." Strange closed his book. "I'll tell you if I find anything else, but you should understand. This memory spell, it has never been reversed."

December 31

Peter Parker didn't feel like celebrating the New Year.

What was the point?

He was miserable, no one remembered who he was, there was no hope of you remembering anything, he was broke and lived in a shoe box of a home that had rats and cockroaches climbing the walls.

All he wanted was you.

And even if he knew you were starting to like him, even with your memories erased - he so desperately wanted you to have your memories back.

So he was miserable on your favorite rooftop, where he could hear the people screaming in the streets and the bright city life.

"1 MINUTE!" The screams echoed, making him sigh.

Instead of thinking about how crappy the next year would be, he focused on the little details.

How he could see parties from windows or spotted bars that were filled with smiling citizens. The faint lights from time square and the people who had settled in parks to celebrate.

"30 SECONDS"

He removed his mask, letting the cold air tingle his cheeks and nose. Watching as smoke formed when he breathed out.

He closed his eyes, bracing himself for a new year of potential pain.

"10!"

"9!" He wanted to remove the voices from the screaming people but the echo was impossible to tune out.

"8!"

"7!"

"Peter." Your voice made him jump.

'What in the world were you doing here?'

"6!"

He stood up straight at your sight, fidgeting with his mask as he tried to scan your features. He couldn't tell if you were crying or laughing.

"5!"

You ran to him, and from up close he realized you were indeed crying - but you were also smiling?

"4!"

You crashed into him, grabbing him with all your strength as if he would disappear. Peter wrapped his arms around you, matching your force by instinct.

Before he could even ask you what was wrong - you answered his question.

"I remember." You whispered kissing the side of his face.

"3!"

"I remember everything" you giggled in disbelief. "The spell worked" this time Peter was the one laughing and crying.

"Really?" He sniffed, putting his face as close as he could to yours.

"I do. Peter I remember everything. From mid town to Venice to- to the chaos we’ve lived through."

"2!"

You were both crying messes but it was ok. As long as you held each other, reassured each other - everything was going to be ok.

"1!" Your fingers wiped the tears away from his eyes as his thumbs did the same thing for you.

"HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!"

You didn’t hesitate one more second to lock your lips together.

And for once in months, Peter finally felt like his life was back on track, because his everything remembered him.

Taglist - leave a note if you want to be added :)

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#tom holland #peter parker x reader #peter parker #tom holland x reader #spider man x reader #spider man x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #peter parker x y/n #peter Parker imagine #spider nan no way home #spider man nwh #Peter Parker fan fiction #spider man imagine #Peter Parker x you

[black-dragon1998]

Ghost Captain Chapter 3

Ghost captain masterlist for previose chapters

You found the hidden camera rather quickly. Making sure there weren’t other things you should take in consideration for your escape plan. After pacing around the room you couldn’t see anything that would make it harder for you.

what you did figure out was that your cell worked with motion detection. So it would be effortless for you to start the alarm and sneak out of the cell why they opened the door to check on what was happening.

Reflecting light wasn’t the only power you had. Born a mutant with the power of absorption meant you had a lot more up your sleeve than just that.

The way your powers worked depended on the person you used them on. When you touched a normal person you could feed off their life chi. If the person was a mutant or enhanced you could temporarily or permanently absorb their powers. It all depended on how much of their chi you absorbed. Your powers were one of the main reasons Hydra was so interested in you, that and for who your parents were.

You had never known who your parents were, they weren’t around when you were being raised by Hydra. The only thing you knew about them was that they were Hydra’s biggest assets and that they wanted to make you the first weapon of the new generation. However, you had escaped with the twins before they could start their training and they could brainwash you.

Giving yourself a pep talk and gathering your thoughts for a moment before you set your plan in motion. Looking right into the camera as you reflected the lights around you, making yourself invisible for the camera.

The moment the cameras couldn’t detect you anymore load alarms went off and a red flashlight started flickering to indicate which cell the alarm came from, drenching the whole room into a dark shadow.

It only took two minutes for the first agents to burst into your cell. Just before they could walk against the wall of your reflection you dropped it and pressed yourself against the wall of your cell that was clouded in shadows.

Using all your powers had a drawback, you could only use one at a time and it took a huge chunk out of your stamina.

While the agents were still going over your cell with a fine-tooth come, you are across the room hacking into the computer hanging on the wall, lucky for you it was linked to the whole SHIELD network so you could find your wait out more easily. It also told you that unlike the cell’s the vent system does have heat sensors, so you weren’t getting out that way.

You also found camera footage of your club. Stark was trying to restore the images, that is something you couldn’t let happen. If they did that they would see Wanda on those images and you be damped if you put her in danger. So you made the decision step fully out of the shadows to mess with the computer to make it look like the files had been lost and not that you had hacked it. Linking yourself to the SHIELD computers took more out of you than you would have thought. You were out of shape for using your powers back to back, Pietro would be laughing his ass off right now.

Not being able to slip back into the shadows you slip into a changing room you notice and hope you aren’t spotted. With all the agents looking for you, you hoped nobody came looking for you in here. Taking a seat on one of the benches you start thinking of a new escape plan. ‘it wasn’t like they would just let you walk out’; right?

That made an idea pop up in your head. What if they did just let you walk out the door. For that plan to work however you needed to find different clothes and that your picture hadn’t yet been given to the agents at the door.

Looking around the locker room you found a black catsuit that looked to be your size, you also found a pair of sunglasses. It was a shame however that you had to leave your burgundy suit behind but in life, you win some you lose some.

Walking out the locker room after having changed you walked passed a full-length mirror and had to stop for a moment. The suit was highly influenced by the Black Widow one and for some reason that made you happy, although you couldn’t tell why.

On your way out you, a couple of agents crossed your path who seemed to be searching for something, probably you and it was nerve recking but they just walked past you. Seems like your disguise worked pretty well. You were almost at the front lobby, which seemed to be designed as a business lobby.

You could almost smell the fresh air when somebody called for your attention.

“Miss, excuse me miss. Do you have a moment?” you had hoped he was talking to somebody ells but as his voice came closer and nobody seemed to be around you who he could be calling to. I stopped, hoping he would walk passed you. Just like you he stopped and tapped you on the shoulder.

Reluctantly you turn around and were a little surprised at what you saw. From his voice, you could tell he was young but the kid looked like he was still in high-school. What was a kid doing in a secret government building? Was SHIELD starting to recruit high-schoolers now for new agents?

“what can I do for you kid?” you tried to act normal and put up a smile. The kid smiled back and didn’t seem to suspect anything.

“why is everybody running around. Did something happen?” you didn’t know what to say. You hadn’t prepared to somebody ask you questions. If you gave the wrong answer he could figure out that you weren’t a SHIELD agent.

“don’t know Kid. I just started today and nobody told me anything.” He seemed to take your word for it and started rambling as he walks out away.

The second you are sure he isn’t going to turn around or is going to ring any alarms you slowly start to make your way toward the door. Walking over the threshold you let out a breath of relief. Just when you walk out the elevator doors opened The Winter Soldier and The Black Widow walked out scanning the lobby.

You don’t make direct eye-contact with them, to not draw attention to yourself but out of the corner of your eyes, you watch them and couldn’t help the smirk that forms on your lips. The Winter Soldier even directly looks at you when you blend in with the crowd.

This round may be won by you, but you were sure this wasn’t the last you had seen of them. The Avengers were notorious for being stubborn. After being sure nobody is following you, you start making your way toward one of your friends who would happily help you contact Wanda.

Bucky cursed when he stepped out of the elevator and saw you walking out the door, watching him and Nat while smirking.

“what, did you see her?” Natasha asked scanning the room to make sure you weren’t lingering in the shadows like you seemed to like doing. You had been playing with them from the start and why would you stop now.

“Just saw them walking outside and disappear in the masses outside.” Bucky was frustrated, you had eluded them this whole time. Also, there was no way they would find you in the afternoon crowd, they would just cause a ruckus. that in turn would give you time to put more distance between you and them.

The two ex-assassins were beating themselves up, how had you managed to escape a well-guarded government agency that also had the Avengers their while you did it. This whole stunt, however, confirmed you weren’t some ordinary goon.

The two Avengers were pulled out of their daze state by Peter who suddenly stood next to them.

“mister Bucky, miss Natasha what are you doing here?” Peter asked the two adults.

“Hey, Peter, here to see to Tony?” Natasha asked trying to suppress her anger. She would find you again that was a promise she made to herself.

“yes. I met a new agent and asked them what had happened because everybody is running around but they couldn’t tell me anything. Also, I don’t seem to be able to contact mister Stark so came looking for him.” Peter started rambling, which was quickly cut off by Natasha.

Every available agent was downstairs looking for you, so who was the agent Peter has seen.

“Peter, can you give me a description of this agent?” Natasha’s voice was calm and it scared Peter a little. He waisted no time in giving your description to Natasha and Bucky, who both cursed under their breaths.

“she just walked right out of the fucking door without anybody even stopping her.” Bucky hit his metal fist against the wall, leaving a dent. Natasha had a little more control over her emotions but was as angry and frustrated as he partner. This also further proved this wasn’t your first rodeo.

“peter you said she was wearing a SHIELD tactical suit?” the boy nodded and Natasha took off like a bullet back into the building. Bucky hot on her heels Peter following behind him.

“Uhm Natasha, Doll she walked out of the building. I’m pretty sure you aren’t going to find her inside.” Bucky tried to make sense of his partner's behaviour. Without looking behind her she answers.

“Peter said she was wearing a tactical suit. That means she had to have found it some were in the building and leave her own clothing behind. Cause believe me you aren’t wearing anything under that tactical suit.” Natasha also had a pretty good idea of where you had found it.

Her hunch proved to be right when she found your clothing in one of the female locker rooms on the same floor that hold the cells. It wasn’t much but maybe they could find some clues on them.

“let’s get this to the lab and examined.”

Natasha was looking with furrowed brows when they were examining your clothes. Bucky stepped up beside her and pulled her closer to him. For some reason, the woman was hyper-focused on the process and couldn’t figure out why. This went far past you just getting away.

She had seen the camera footage from your escape and there was just something so familiar in the way you carried yourself. It reminded her a bit of the Red room. Also seeing you in a tactical suit that looked like hers sparked something familiar.

“take a deep breath doll. We will find her, we always do.” Bucky kissed the side of her head, hoping to calm the redhead down a bit. She leaned back into him letting herself relax for the first time all day.

putting quite the distance between you and the SHIELD’s building and didn’t have the impression you were being followed you relaxed a bit. However, to be on the safe side you stayed to the back alleys to not raze any suspicion. Inside the SHIELD building, you might have blended in, on the street you stook out like a sore thumb.

You had already sent Lou a message with a phone you had lifted of some unsuspecting businessman. She quickly responded and told you it was okay for you to stop at her club and wait for Wanda. After that, you quickly got rid of the phone and send Wanda a mental message telling you were okay.

Rounding the last corner before you reached Lou’s club you see a woman being slammed against the alley wall by a guy pressing a knife to her throat. He had a hand over her mouth to prevent her from screaming. You should walk away, too much shit had already happened to you today but you couldn’t get it over your heart to leave the woman.

Before he could do more he was pulled away by you and put yourself between the two.

“you think it’s okay to assault a defenceless woman. Does it give you adrenaline kick when you watch them cower in fear?” You ask him, not really looking for an answer. No excuse was good for this.

The man quickly scrambled up again and pointed his knife at you. You quickly knocked it out of his hands. Who was shaking in fear now?

“go!” you tell the woman, who quickly runs back into the safety of the streets. Turning your attention back to the crook, you smirk. He was quickly handled with and left for the police to find, you were sure he would think twice before assaulting another woman.

The rest of your journey is uneventful. With how your day was going you were sure Spiderman would have come and graced you with a visit but you didn’t see him when you crossed the street and entered the club.

It was too early for the club to be open for the public and Lou was out of town with Debbi, so the only people at the club were a couple of employees. Lou and you were old business partners and rather good friends. A word she only spoke when she was really drunk.

You had left some clothes from some of those nights, thank heaven. After sorting out the clothes the next thing on your to-do list was calling Wanda, she would appreciate that more than a mental call.

However, before you can even find a phone the door behinds you open and a body crashed into your back.

“Lyubit!” even without hearing her voice you knew it was Wanda.

“Hey, sweetheart. How are you, had a nice day?” Wanda waked your arm. She hated when you acted all nonchalantly.

“don’t do that. Don’t act like what happened is nothing. I thought I wouldn’t see you again.” Wanda had untangled herself from your back and looking at the floor when she spoke. You take her chin in between your thumb and forefinger, making her look up at you. She looks up at you from under her lashes and you think she is the cutest.

“I’m sorry baby girl. I’m sorry I scared you but I’m alright and safe.” You give her a tender kiss on the lips and pull her into a big hug. She swings her arms around your neck and buries her face into your neck, you just hold her close. It took you a full five minutes before she let go.

“Why don’t we go home and let things cool down for a few days.” You proposition kissing the side of her temple. You know that at moments like this she craves physical contact. She doesn’t answer you but nods in conformation. You lead her toward the exit and try taking the keys from her. Wanda shakes her head and pushes you into the passenger seat.

“I want to get home safely. One heart attack a week is enough for me, thank you.” You feel a little offended by her statement. You thought of yourself as an excellent driver.

“I would like to inform you, sweetheart, I am an excellent driver.” You respond, puffing your chest out a little bit. When she laughs you were happy.

“sure you are lyubit but let me take care of you for now.” Instead of arguing you take the hand that is on the gear shift and press a loving kiss to it and let her drive. When you full let yourself relax your exhaustion catches up whit you and close your eyes.

“sleep lyubit. You are safe with me.” Wanda’s voice is the last thing you hear before you fall asleep.

Chapter 4

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