#and peter warns miles to trust absolutely no one

[ghost-with-a-teacup]

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 (𝐈𝐈)

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader

Summary: After you reveal the truth of what your relationship really was between you and Miguel, everyone's keen on learning more. So what better way to give a little more insight than a dinner at your shared home?

Warnings: None~ Just back again with silly shenanigans and the softest of fluff :3

A/N: Hello, everyone! After the first part of 'What's In Between' blew up (you can read it here, thank you so much by the way, you're all so sweet), many people have asked for a part two, so here it is! Enjoy <3

The moment you break the news to them, the volume of the table booms to a fever pitch as everyone begins talking at the same time.

“W-WHAT?!”

“Married? No way,” Hobie says.

“How long have you been together?” Pavitr asks.

“I can’t say I saw this coming…” Miles says, eyes widening in surprise.

Miguel had been watching you the moment you snuck up on the group, but with the newfound panic from everyone he couldn’t help but make his way over to the commotion.

“You’re all being loud, what are you yelling about now?” Miguel asks, walking over and standing by your side.

“HOW COULD YOU NOT TELL US YOU WERE MARRIED?!” Gwen shouts.

“You never asked,” he blinks, “and also, it’s none of your business.”

“Miguel, as your best friend I am deeply offended that you haven’t told me after this long, does our friendship mean nothing to you?” Peter says, hand on his chest in pretend hurt.

“You are not my best friend,” Miguel deadpans.

“After I opened up to you no less, I mean, you were the first person I told about Mayday! All the details-” he continues, ignoring the comment.

“Not by choice,” he mutters.

“Does no one know about this?? At all???” Pavitr asks, “I mean, you two are married.”

“I mean, Jess knows about it,” you gesture, and she only grins.

“And now all of you do too,” Miguel sighs. “Vida mía, I thought we talked about this,” he admonishes.

“Oh, c’mon, it was cute how they were all trying to figure it out for so long. I was starting to feel bad,” you say, smoothing your hair back. He only stares at you for a moment before sighing.

“Fine,” he relents, “Can’t do anything about it now anyway.” He smiles softly at you, and the group watches in awe as their cold leader softens in your presence, but his gaze quickly grows dark as he turns back to the group.

“One word of this to anyone outside of this group,” he says with a pointed finger before trailing off, allowing everyone to fill in the blanks as to what he might do.

Everyone’s faces pale like a sheet at the unnamed threat (well, except for Hobie, he only watches with blatant amusement on his face), but you only laugh.

“Miguel, don’t threaten the kids,” you giggle. “Don’t worry, he’s all bark and no bite,” you whisper to them with a wink.

“Hey, that’s what I say!” Peter says.

“You are his best friend after all,” you grin.

“I have never said those words a day in my life,” he scoffs, but you ignore him, eyes lighting up with an idea.

“Oh! I have a lovely idea, how about you all swing by our place for dinner later? We never have guests,” you suggest.

Gwen gasps, “Really?”

“This…maybe doesn’t seem like the best idea,” Miles says as he shrinks down in his seat at Miguel’s glare towards you.

“I have plans tonight…though I don’t think they’d mind if I cancel,” Hobie says nonchalantly, but everyone knew there was no way in hell he’d miss something like this.

“What am I, cat litter?” Jess asks. She was the only person to have been at your shared home, having joined around the same time as you, and being one of the few people Miguel fully trusts.

“You know it's not like that, Jess,” you turn to her with a grin.

“Absolutely not, it's already a liability that they know querida, now you want them traipsing into our home?” Miguel argues, and you narrow your eyes at him, never one to back down from a fight. While it got on his nerves, it's what he loved about you too. He needed someone that wouldn’t take his shit.

“Miguel,” you say, giving him a look. “All our enemies are literally in alternate universes who, aside from those small tears, have no way to go cross-dimensional, let alone find us in the expanse of a universe. Besides, I think it would be nice,” you say, and Mayday seems to agree since she climbs right up into your arms, babbling happily.

“And don’t think I don’t know you have a soft spot for this lil ragtag team,” you smile, bouncing up and down as Mayday laughs.

He huffs, “I am anything but soft, especially for them. They never listen, don’t follow protocol, are immature, and the list goes on.”

“He’s lying,” you whisper, covering your mouth from his direction as though that would stop him from happening. Mayday grabs your hand though, playing with your fingers happily. “See how his ears are turning red?”

At that, his ears turn more red and the group tries to stifle their snickers to no avail.

“Querida,” he warns. “Do you feel the need to share anything else about me? Or have you had enough,” he asks, poking your shoulder. You place a hand on his bicep with a gentle smile, and his expression softens much to his dismay.

“Honey, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you grin. “Alright, it’s settled then! You’re all coming over tonight.”

~

You hummed softly to yourself as you moved around the kitchen, preparing the food for dinnertime when everyone would be coming over.

Then, you feel the hair rise on the back of your neck as a familiar presence makes himself known, strong arms wrapping around your waist as his head rests on top of yours.

“Vida mía, the food smells good,” he says softly before sighing. “But I’m not very happy with you today.”

You let out a sigh of your own as you turn off the stove before turning around in his arms to face him.

“Miguel, my love,” you say, smoothing out the collar of the pullover he wore before looking up at him. “I know you well, don’t I?”

“More than anyone,” he says, the corner of his mouth lifting the tiniest amount as he presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Then it’s safe to assume that you’ve been wanting to hang out with more people in the Society apart from work-related things?” you ask, placing your hand on his chest.

“I can’t afford anything like that in this line of work, you know that querida,” he sighs, that familiar hardened look in his eyes for a moment.

“Miguel, your only friends can’t be me, Lyla and Jess,” you pout.

“Vida mía, you are my wife,” he says.

“Yes, and it's miracle enough that I was able to grow close enough to you to get to that point,” you chuckle, “so my existence in your life is proof itself that you are capable of growing close to people. I’ve seen you, I think you’re ready and deep down I know you don’t always want to be perceived as the cold and unfeeling leader of the Society. Why not start with them?”

“That’s not a decision for you to make,” he says, glancing away from you.

“I know, and I’m sorry,” you apologize, feeling a bit guilty that you threw Miguel into this without warning. “I should have spoken to you about it first but who knows. Maybe this is a good thing, opening your heart a little more,” you explain. “Don’t think I realize you’re the hardest on them because you believe in them,” you smile.

He huffs before pausing to think for a moment. “Sometimes I wonder when you snuck your little way into my head, querida.”

“Admit it, you’re growing soft,” you giggle softly.

“Never,” he counters, tickling your side which makes you scrunch up your face as you laugh breathlessly.

“OKAY! Okay, you’re one soft fluffy teddy bear, happy?” you say which only makes him continue with even more fervour.

“That is the most ridiculous thing I think I have ever heard you say, querida,” he snorts but finally relents.

“Yeah….I can’t even say that with a serious face,” you chuckle. “But you do have your moments, tough guy,” you smile, leaning up on your tippy toes to press a kiss to his lips.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever,” he rolls his eyes. That’s when the doorbell rings, and immediately your eyes light up.

“Oh! They’re here!!” you say excitedly, escaping from his grasp as you move to open up the door.

“Here we go,” he murmurs to himself, and you turn to face him.

“What was that?” you ask.

“Nothing, vida mía,” he replies, and you narrow your eyes in disbelief.

“Behave, Miguel,” you tell him.

“Wouldn’t dream of anything else,” he replies, and you grin before opening up the front door.

There, you find Miles, Gwen, Pavitr, Peter (alongside Mayday of course), Hobie and Jess all standing outside, chatting amongst themselves before turning to you.

Miles almost looks like he’s in disbelief like he couldn’t really believe this was your home quite yet.

“Hi!” Gwen starts.

“Took you lot long enough,” Hobie says. “Was starting to think we'd have to build a fire and cook it ourselves.” Gwen punches his shoulder, to which he lets out a little “Ow!”

“Sorry about him,” Gwen apologizes.

You just find yourself laughing at it all though.

“No apologies needed, we were a little preoccupied. Come on in, make yourself at home,” you say, opening the door a little wider for them to make their way through.

“Not too at home though,” you hear Miguel say, leaning into the foyer from the living room, arms crossed over his chest.

“Ignore him,” you say, giving him a pointed look to which he just stares at you blankly. “Dinner will be ready soon, I just have to set the table and we can eat, alright?”

“It smells delicious,” Pavitr says, “I’m starving.”

Mayday seems to agree as she crawls up from the baby carrier onto Peter’s head, making grabby hands from the top.

“Someone’s hungry,” Peter chuckles. “Got anything she can eat?”

“I have a few things, don’t worry,” you smile.

“It really does smell really good though, but it always does,” Jess adds.

“It’s nothing special,” you say sheepishly. “Just some of Miguel’s favourites.”

You guide them all into the living room. “Settle in! I’ll be done in a snap,” you say.

As you make your way back to the kitchen (with Jess joining you to help out), back in the living room the squad of spiders settle in almost hesitantly, a watchful eye monitoring all of their reactions.

No one dares say anything, only sitting around nervously.

“So…nice weather we’re having,” Peter says, trying to lighten the mood but even Mayday gives him a deadpanned expression.

Miguel sighs. “You’re all acting like there’s a ticking time bomb waiting for you to speak before setting off,” he says, still leaning up against the doorway.

“We don’t know, mate. Is there?” Hobie jokes, but Miles’ face drops anyway.

“There isn’t, for the record. I can be harsh but I’m not evil,” Miguel scoffs before making eye contact with Pavitr who looks like he wanted to ask something but was holding back.

“One question,” he says simply with a nod.

“How long have you two been together?”

“…a little over 4 years now,” he replies.

“How did you meet?” Gwen asks.

“I said one question,” he says before your voice cuts in.

“My universe was one of the first he visited! He hated me back then, though,” you laugh as you walk back in. “Speaking of which!! I have some things you might all want to see after dinner,” you grin mischievously.

“I thought you said I was the one that had to behave, mi corazón,” Miguel says, a warning tone in his voice.

“And I am, aren’t I?” you say, poking his side playfully. “Anyway, dinner’s ready,” you say, leading them to the dining room. “I know it's not much but-”

“How in the hell is this not much??” Hobie exclaims, and you just shrug. “You should see dinner with my family, then you will think that it’s not much,” you say with a chuckle.

On the table sat a wide expanse of food, all of Miguel’s favourites from Mexico. Empanadas as the appetizer, alongside pozole, ceviche, enchiladas, and chicken with mole poblano all served with a side of rice, beans, or homemade corn tortillas depending on each person’s preference.

You can see Miguel’s eyes visibly brighten as he looks at the food, settling in at the head of the table with you by his side.

“Come eat!” As you say that, everyone sits down before beginning to eat, everyone heading straight to what appealed to them the most.

“This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted,” Miles says, eyes closed in bliss.

“Oye, don’t let your Mother hear that, kid,” Miguel says, but the corner of his lip was upturned in the tiniest of smiles. The most he would allow himself around this many people.

“Thank you, Miles,” you smile.

“This, uhh, how do you say it again? Poh-zuhl?” Gwen asks, and you laugh out loud as she turns pink, meanwhile both Miguel and Miles cringe slightly.

“I’m sorry for laughing, sweetheart. You’re almost there; it’s pronounced like ‘poh-zoh-lay’,” you say kindly.

“Ohh, okay gotcha. Pozole. It’s really good! Feels…comforting, almost,” she says.

“Yes,” you say, glancing at your husband with a soft smile, “it’s Miguel’s favourite. Says it ‘tastes like home’.” A chorus of ‘awws’ go around the table, while Miguel only holds the bridge of his nose with a sigh.

“Alright, alright. Enough with the cheesy stuff, let’s get back to eating, yeah?” Hobie says before shoving his fork back into his mouth.

~

Once dinner was finished (and after both Miles and Gwen insisted that they did the dishes despite much argument from you), everyone was settled again in the living room laughing and talking together, and while Miguel only said a few things here and there and sat by your side like a lost puppy, he did seem to be enjoying himself.

“Alright! Now, before everyone goes back home, I have one more thing I’d like to show you,” you say once it quiets down a bit. Standing up, you make your way over to a large bookshelf you and Miguel had built together when you first moved in together.

“I’ve gotten tired of having only myself to show these photos to, so this is the perfect opportunity,” you smile.

“Querida-” Miguel says, holding out a hand to block your way but you look at him with pleading eyes, and he can’t do anything but relent. He couldn’t say no when you looked at him like that.

With a triumphant ‘haha!’ you grab a photo album labelled with a date and a single word; ‘Ours’.

Everyone crowds around as you place it down on the coffee table, and you open it up to the first page.

Gwen is the one that gasps first, eyes wide with awe.

“You both look so beautiful,” she says softly.

There, front and centre was a photo of you and Miguel on your wedding day. You were smiling wide at the camera, a bouquet of your favourite flowers in hand while Miguel only looked at you with an expression so in awe it was as though you painted the stars in the sky.

“You clean up nicely, big man,” Hobie comments, and Pavitr nods.

“Weddings, my favourite,” Jess says, a fond expression on her face as she thinks back to her own husband.

“I had a bird fly into my face at my wedding…but they are nice,” Peter says, rocking Mayday gently as she naps away after the hearty dinner even despite the commotion.

You continue to flip through the photobook, pausing periodically for a little anecdote about each one. Miguel had long stood up to make room for everyone else, but he looked at you in the same way he did on your wedding day.

Like you were the light of his life, the one good thing he had amongst the millions of universes parallel to his own. Like you were his everything.

~

“Admit it, you like them,” you smile, the house finally quiet after everyone headed home. He only rolls his eyes before pulling you into his lap, his face going into the crook of your neck as he holds you close.

“There is a big difference between ‘liking’ and ‘tolerating’, sweetheart,” he says, rubbing circles into your hip soothingly.

“Yeah, yeah, tough guy. Whatever you say,” you reply, wrapping your arms around his neck and settling into his touch with a happy sigh.

You both sit there for a moment in silence, the two of you weren’t ones to fill silence with mindless chatter. If words needn’t be said then they weren’t.

“That was…nice, though,” he admits softly after a little while.

“I know,” you whisper.

~

~

~

“That won’t happen again for a long while though,” he says, pulling away to look at you, crimson eyes pleading with you wordlessly.

You can’t do anything but laugh.

Taglist (for those who requested a part two): @lotustv @mars-ifuknowmeirlplsgoaway @elliewilliamsactualgf @randomhumans-blog @iluvkonig @phillygraves @gothgirlziez

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o hara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spider verse spoilers #across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 #spiderman #marvel

[turtle-bun]

Actual things said between me and my brothers as TMNT quotes Pt2: TMNT bois see Across the Spiderverse!

((SPOILERS AHEAD AFTER THE LINE BREAK!!! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!!))

Part 1

Rise!Mikey: *excited stimming and screaming* I WANT THIS MOVIE INJECTED INTO MY VEINS! THE ART WAS SO FUCKING COOL!

Rise!Donnie: *excited stimming but in a monotone voice* I apologize for the person I’m going to become now because this sound track is now my entire personality.

---

12!Mikey: See Across the Spiderverse is so good and is also a huge middle finger to Marvel comics for all the shit they’re putting my boi Spidey through!

12!Leo: Oh yeah, one hundred percent! This movie feels more like how Spiderman is then the actual comics as of late!

12!Mikey: See Marvel! Spiderman can be fucking happy for once!

12!Leo: *chuckling* You got beef with Marvel?

12!Mikey: *riled up* Oh I got so much fucking beef with Marvel! Talking bout how “either Peter Parker’s happy or Spiderman is happy. One always has to be fucked over.” Like get out of here with that bullshit! You saw how happy Peter B. Parker was with Mayday and he’s still Spiderman? FUCK YOU MARVEL IT CAN WORK! PUT ME IN THE GODDAMN WRITTERS ROOM!

12!Leo: *laughing* You think you can write better?

12!Mikey: My 10k word Spiderman fanfic on ao3 with over six thousands kudos begs to differ! SQUARE THE FUCK UP MARVEL!

---

03!Raph: I am so fucking glad they didn’t have a love triangle in this movie. Honest to god I was like lowkey worried about that.

03!Mikey: Oh yeah, for sure. Thank god Hobie was actually cool.

03!Raph: He was so FUCKING cool! Oh my god! Like I know everyone and their mother was fawning over Miguel but honestly I could give less of a shit about him cuz FUCKING SPIDER PUNK! HOLY SHIT!

03!Mikey: *laughing* Is this a “I don’t know if I wanna date him or be him” kind of situation?

03!Raph: It’s a: “I don’t know if I want to slow dance with him at prom or steal his entire gender” type of situation!

---

Bay!Mikey: You guys been hearing this bull shit some people are saying about Spiderverse?

Bay!Donnie: *groaning* Don’t fucking remind me. People are stupid and it’s all over my fucking TikTok and Twitter!

Bay!Leo: Which one? The pissy conservatives complaining about “forced diversity” and “woke” culture? The extreme leftists making it about racism when that literally was NOT the point of the fucking movie? Or is it the transphobes bitching at the mere INSINUATION that Gwen Stacy could actually be trans? LIKE AND IF SHE FUCKING IS?! WHAT THEN CUNT?!

Bay!Raph: You know what? Fuck it! Piss them off even more and in the next movie just full on fucking say it! They can’t handle subtlety so might as well throw it in their faces since they’re complaining about it so much!

Bay!Mikey: Shit, I mean Miles is bi in the comics, he can come out as well!

Bay!Donnie: *super serious voice* Hello Miles Morales, who is bisexual and my love interest, I, Gwen Stacey, am a transgender woman!

Bay!Mikey: *T posing* Omg, Gwen Stacey, who is a transgender woman and my love interest, I, Miles Morales, who is bisexual, appreciate your willingness to trust me enough to share these private conversations with me even though you have absolutely no obligation to do so!

Bay!Leo: *absolutely losing his shit* Oh god it’s like it’s being written by a fucking AI!

Bay!Raph: The first 10 minutes of the movie are them fixing up the dimensional bull shit, then the rest of it is group therapy and coming out stories!

---

87!Leo: *crying, sobbing, screaming*

87!Mikey: How did you NOT know it was a two parter? It said it at the beginning of the movie!

87!Leo: EXCUSE ME FOR GETTING ENGROSSED IN THE SPECTICAL OF EVERYTHING!!!

#tmnt #rottmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt 2003 #tmnt 2012 #tmnt 87 #bayverse tmnt #tmnt leonardo #tmnt leo #tmnt raphael #tmnt raph #tmnt donnatello #tmnt donnie #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt mikey #sibling banter #bunny talks #bunny writes #atsv spoilers

[starker1975]

@thecitrusscale there's only two and they're nothing crazy lmao, but here you go!!

Deleted scenes from A Familiar Stranger.

From Ch. 4 - Peter picks a fight with Tony at the mall, pressing him about his theoretical attraction to Betty:

“What?” Tony inclined his head.

“Betty at school,” Peter explained. “Actually, MJ and Ned, too. They all think you’re handsome. That’s probably why they’re coming over in the first place.”

“Not Miles?” Tony said. “I wonder why I haven’t awed him yet. Probably ‘cause he’s new to the bunch. I just need time to make an impression.”

“That’s not creepy at all…”

“Oh, I was just kidding.” Tony rolled his eyes. “I don’t care about your little high school buddies. Girls or boys.”

“Oh no?”

“No,” Tony said a little more firmly. “I don’t.”

Peter shrugged. “Well, whatever. Just warning you. If you hang out with us, I’m pretty sure you’re gonna be stared at.”

Tony sighed. “I think I might stay inside then. Don’t want to lead anybody on.”

“Definitely not,” Peter agreed.

“I’m no tease,” Tony said seriously, “but like I said. Not interested in them, so that’s that.”

“You wouldn’t, I don’t know, date one of them if they asked, or like hinted?” Peter asked.

Tony frowned. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, I mean, they’re all 18, I’m the last one who isn’t, so if you—”

“Pete, seriously?”

“What?” Peter asked in annoyance. “I’m just making conversation. I genuinely wanna know. If Betty came up to you right now and was like, ‘ohh Mr. Stark’ or whatever, you wouldn’t even think about it?”

“I don’t know what to say. I don’t really get why you’re even asking me. Of course it’s a no, why would you think there’s even a one percent chance it would be a yes?”

“I don’t know. I was just asking. We’re joking around.”

“Doesn’t feel like a joke.”

“Right, well isn’t that what we were just fighting about? Supposed jokes?”

Tony didn’t say anything.

“I find it really hard to believe you wouldn’t go for her. She’s pretty, smart, sort of nice, I guess. Just admit it. I don’t care.”

“Isn’t she dating your best friend?”

“Yeah, but you can admit you like her. Ned’s not here.”

“I’d admit it if I did, and I don’t.”

“What about MJ?”

“Pete, you could give me your entire fucking yearbook, and it would be a no to everyone.”

“Everyone? Every single person? You can say that for a fact?”

Tony looked confused and pissed, and Peter recognized that he better stop. Just shut up before he went too far.

“Jesus. I don’t know. Fuck it, maybe one person. You’ll have to show me the yearbook. Can we drop this now?”

“Yes, absolutely.”

“Where the hell did that even come from?”

“I-I don’t know,” Peter admitted. “I just…they were talking about you at lunch and it got me thinking.”

“Thinking?”

“Yeah, like, they’re all together, and it’s awkward because I’m the only one not dating anyone, and then they started talking about you, and it made me realize you’re single, or whatever. You know, so then I was thinking about why you don’t date and who you would if you did. I didn’t mean to piss you off. I don’t know.”

Tony sighed. “You didn’t piss me off because you were asking about dating. I don’t get how you could think I was perverted enough to want one of your friends, especially when they’re all young and taken. I’ve known them since they were kids.”

Peter’s lip started to quiver. So to his face, his dad was all, “I’m a good guy. I’m not perverted. I would never do that.” But online, he was calling Tom sweet and cute, wishing him good morning, and hoping he slept well. Tom wasn’t too fucking young for him. How was he supposed to trust that his dad wasn’t going to see the hearts in Betty’s eyes and pounce? He would either have to cancel all pool parties, or have them and keep a watchful eye.

&

From Ch. 13 - Another fight. Tom hasn't been answering Tony online and when Peter insists that he'll drive Tony to the restaurant for Father's Day, tensions rise:

“Because I like driving.”

“I know that,” Peter argued, “but you always drive. I want a turn now that I have my learner’s permit, and I can only do that if you’re in the car too.”

Tony frowned.

“You let Happy drive you. I don’t see what the big deal is.”

“You think I’m going to get us in an accident or something?” he added.

“I never said that,” Tony replied.

“Then what’s your problem? I just wanted to be the one to drive if I’m taking you out.”

“How about I drive us there, and you drive us back?” Tony offered.

“What? No.” Peter scrunched his face. “That’s ridiculous.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Pete. I always drive when we go somewhere. Why do we need to change that now?”

“Are you actually serious,” Peter demanded, rising from the couch. “You’re actually serious. You really don’t want me driving that bad. It’s that important to you.”

“Yeah, guess it is.”

“I don’t believe this.”

“What, that you didn’t get your own way?” Tony raised his eyebrows.

“No, this isn’t even about me getting my own way.”

“Then what’s it about?”

“You being a dick for no reason,” Peter challenged.

“What did you just say to me?”

“No,” Peter said. “You are being a dick, and I’ll say it again if it’s true. You’re the one who taught me to drive. You bought me a car when I got my permit, and now all of a sudden, I’m not good enough to drive? What’s wrong with you?”

“I—”

“You know what? Forget it.” Peter threw his hands up. “I don’t wanna hear it.”

“Come on, Pete. Wait.” Tony called while he went up the stairs.

Peter paused. “Now I know why I feel like I can’t do anything right. Because I can’t. You just proved it. I can’t even drive.”

His dad walked closer, as if he was about to follow him, so Peter picked up his pace. The crack already in his door jamb got a little bit worse after he slammed the door.

A few minutes later, he heard the front door slam. Apparently his dad was going back to work.

Peter felt like laughing for some fucked up reason. His dad hadn’t given him attitude like that in ages. It had been another stressful time for Stark Industries then too. When he added in the fact that Tom was giving Tony the cold shoulder, he had cooked up the perfect storm.

He’d felt like shit from arguments with his dad before, but nothing as bad as this. It hurt worse arguing with him now that he was in love with him.

Dad: I’m sorry.

Dad: You can drive if you want to.

Dick. You could have just said that from the beginning.

Dad: Come on.

Dad: I know you can drive just fine.

Dad: Peter. Please.

Dad: Can you at least text back to let me know you’re alive?

Peter considered not responding, but he took the bait.

Peter: No.

Dad: I’ll take it.

Peter: What was that even about?

Peter: If you’re that stressed from work maybe you should ask for help or take a vacation.

Dad: It’s not work.

I could’ve told you that. Was he really that pissed because Tom hadn’t responded? It was kind of funny, but not if it meant his dad’s frustrations were being taken out on him.

Peter: You can’t take things out on me like that.

Peter: I didn’t even do anything wrong.

Well, he had, but not the asking to drive part.

#a familiar stranger #afs #if there's one thing about peter and tony in this verse it's that they're going to be dramatic as absolute fuck #especially peter #like can he chill?

[irondad-defensesquad]

current wips (updated!)

the mostly finished ones:

i'll send an SOS to the world - takes place during iron man 3, through uncle ben's pov. peter is devastated upon the news of tony's supposed death. uncle ben can tell how affected peter is, so he tries his best to lift peter's spirits.

if you're going to shoot somebody, shoot me! - peter gets hurt again, but tony is absolutely broken, because peter got hurt outside of patrol. the two were just hanging out when a guy tried to shoot tony, and peter took the bullet instead.

the view from halfway down - TRIGGER WARNING FOR SUICIDE. peter finally tries to end his life, but he gives up on the idea and saves himself. but he ends up halfway down the bridge, and he calls tony for help, fearing his mentor is going to get angry.

you’re all i need to get by - sickfic in which tony gets sick and peter looks after him. eventually, peter kisses tony's forehead without realizing. THIS IS NOT SHIPPY, ISTG

untitled - TRIGGER WARNING FOR SELF-HARM. morgan sees peter's cuts and tries her best to help. eventually she tells tony that peter is hurt.

the rest:

we didn't start the fire, chapter 2 - miles wakes up at an unfamiliar place, but he realizes he's not actually in danger. tony tries to figure out who was the boy that left miles there. basically a spider-verse x mcu crossover where tony is still alive, but he doesn't remember peter.

and i say to myself, what a wonderful world - short fic that takes place before peter travels to europe in ffh. but here tony is alive and he doesn’t want to stay away from peter after the last five years. it's more light-hearted than it sounds, trust me. inspired by the ending of finding nemo :)

i need some sleep - tony finds peter wearing the spider-man suit late at night, but he finds out that the kid isn’t fighting anyone. peter is just talking to karen, and tony learns a lot more about him.

and then you’re left in the dust - a sequel to kid arachnid, part of the miles in the mcu series, in which mcu!miles meets peter and tony, and he eventually gets spider-powers. tony starts mentoring him before the events of endgame. suddenly, one day, miles’ father, who was dusted, returns as if nothing happened. miles later finds out peter and everyone else is back once he visits tony.

untitled - sequel to and the void stares back. after tony adopts tony jr., a black cat, peter brings an orange kitten home. much to his and tony's surprise, junior quickly adopts the kitten. shenanigans ensue.

p.s. say edith - another mcu x spider-verse crossover! miles graduates from school and all his spider-friends attend. peter shows up wearing cool glasses miles has never seen before. sadly, tony is dead in this one.

turn the lights off, carry me home - peter has an anxiety attack, and ned does his best to help. since they can't get aunt may, ned suggests they call tony. peter is against that, mostly bc he knows tony would pick him up and help him out. peter just hates getting in the way.

unsure about these:

i've become so numb (title might be changed) - peter is working in the lab while tony is out, when (alive) howard stark enters without anyone's permission. howard is clearly a dick to peter, but the kid is furious when the man insults tony and all his hard work. peter won't stand for that. i'm a little concerned this one might be too similar to you keep me searching for a heart of gold...

dad sneeze (title might be changed) - based on a post by @/fotibrit, peter never understood what was so funny about dad sneezes, until he hears tony sneeze incredibly loud. it's just fluff.

#lotus speaks #my fics #my wips

[unknownunseenunheard]

#darth mj theory #marvel #into the spiderverse #peter parker #mary jane watson #kingpin #miles morales #spider man #spiderman #am i right? i think im right... #spiderverse mj isnt involved with any of the heroes #they dont even consider turning to her for help #shes also pretty cosy with kingpin and speaks up at his party #and peter warns miles to trust absolutely no one #bc kingpin has eyes everywhere #and kingpin wasnt surprised at peter's identity #although that could be more of an eh random stranger thing

[boldlyvoid]

Amoreena | chapter one

summary: Heaven is a real place and it's located exactly 14.6 miles away from the FBI, Quantico Headquarters. Off behind a small park, under a fantastical willow tree surrounded by wildflowers, in every colour young minds can imagine.

Don't forget, heaven also comes with angels.

Warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort, depressed spencer, reader has a daughter, falling in love, strangers to lovers

word count: 3,147

Read on Ao3

There’s this small, tiny part, of Spencer that wants to run away.

He’s always felt like he’s never truly been home, a never-ending and long yearning, a homesickness for a place he didn't even know, eating him alive day by day. It made him want to drop everything and buy a cottage in the woods, to fill it with books and coffee and never see another person again.

It got worse after prison and after his mom asked to go back into a care facility, it hurt the most when Penelope left the FBI and things with Max fizzled out. Then he was really, truly alone again. His apartment felt cold and uninviting, the BAU felt like a chore, using his brain for anything other than taking care of himself was extremely hard.

He needed a break.

So when he walked out of work and straight to his favourite park for an escape, he wasn’t surprised that he didn’t stop walking. Going further and further down the trail, following the dirt path towards a pond, covered by a beautiful willow tree and surrounded by pink, purple, yellow and white flowers. The contrast of the green grass with the colourful flowers, the blue sky and the light green willow tree reflection dancing on the surface of the pond. It was like he walked into Eden, taking a seat by the tree and picking a book from his satchel.

For the rest of the week, it’s his own little sanctuary, escaping desk work and home cases as fast as he could. Even then it wasn't enough and he started going every afternoon, he’d sneak out for an hour and just relax. Reading his book, feeling the breeze on his face, the sound of ducks and frogs competing with the crickets for loudest being in the area. Eventually bringing his bike on the subway to work so he could get there faster.

It was beautiful.

Almost as beautiful as what he walked in on when he arrived Saturday afternoon. Parking his bike by the tree, looking at them carefully as he took his satchel off his shoulders and placed it by the trunk. Craning his neck so he could look at who it was, seeing the purest display of human affection known to man.

A mother and her daughter were having a picnic, dressed up like Miss Honey and Matilda as they had lemonade and snacks, spread out on a blanket as the mother handed her a sandwich wrapped in checkered red wax paper.

Spencer was in awe, sitting on the other side of the pond by a second tree, pretending to read when really he was glancing at them. Their laugher filling the field, bouncing around the trees and filling his chest with warmth.

It reminded him of all the afternoons with his own mother. His head in her lap, the sound of her voice as she shared worlds wisdom with him. He missed childhood, freedom, hope. The will to continue…

When the little girl finally notices that they’re not alone in this little world she’s creating, he sees her tug on her moms shirt, asking her a question before cheering. She picks something out of the basket and comes running towards Spencer.

“Excuse me, sir?” Her sweet little voice asks. “Are you an archeologist or a palaeontologist?”

It makes him laugh slightly, a large smile erupting on his face as he pushes his glasses up and puts the book down. “No sorry, I’m not, what made you think I was?”

“You have a satchel and glasses like Milo from Atlantis, but you have a dinosaur on your tie, you look like you work at a museum,” she rambled all her thoughts out, much like he did as a child.

“I’m actually an FBI agent,” he whispered.

“Wow,” she whispered back in amazement, “are you like a knight? Do you save princesses?”

“I do," he nodded enthusiastically, "do you know any in need?”

“Her,” she pointed. “I’m Lady Amoreena, the Princess over there says I was a gift to the kingdom but that she’ll never need a prince or king to take care of us, but I think a knight would work!”

He laughed lightly, seeing her mom shake her head as she overheard it, covering her face with her hand, she looked embarrassed.

“It’s nice to meet you, Lady Amoreena,” he put his hand out to shake her’s as soft as possible, noticing the cookie in her hand. “My name is Dr. Spencer Reid,” he added softly.

“Would you like a cookie?”

He smiled as she placed it in his hand, “thank you.”

“Do you like Matilda?”

“It’s one of my favourite books,” he smiles.

“Do you want to have some lemonade and read with us?” Her face lit up, turning back to where her mother was watching from the pond.

“It’s okay, thank you for offering,” not wanting to intrude on their moment.

“We need a voice for Matilda’s father, please?” She begged, overly sweet and incredibly convincing.

“Alright, but I’m warning you if I upstage the princess with my awesome voices, it’s not my fault,” he smiled as he stood up, grabbing his things and starting to follow her over to the blanket.

She took his hand and tugged him along the edge of the pond, dragging him right to were her mother was sitting on the ground.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized softly as he sat down. “She’s very persistent about making new friends. We don’t see many people on this side of the park.”

“It’s fine, honestly, I’m Dr. Spencer Reid, by the way,” he introduced himself. “I work with the FBI, normally I’d advice women and their children to avoid strange men they don’t know when they’re alone in the woods like this.”

She laughed slightly, “Y/N Y/L/N, I’m the head librarian at the DC library, and you don’t seem that strange.”

“Neither did Bundy,” he tried to joke, knowing she got it and trusted him when she bit back a smile, eyes twinkling at him in the sunlight.

“My name is Amoreena, like the Elton John song,” her daughter cut in, noticing how they were staring at each other and trying to get the attention instead.

“It’s a beautiful song, no wonder you love it here,” Spencer smiled at her, “do you come here often?”

She nodded, a blush flowing through her freckled cheeks, “have you ever read Tuck Everlasting? The pond here can make you young forever,” her whisper was the cutest thing. She was so full of life, personality and joy.

“I have, you’re right this feels a lot like the field from the book, what other books do you like?”

“I love books,” she lays back against the blanket ever so dramatically. “Matilda, Anne of Green Gables, Beauty and the Beast, I love every story that ends with true love and happiness, and cats.”

He couldn’t help but laugh at her explanation, knowing that feeling all too well. “I have read almost every book ever, more than the entire DC library probably."

“We dress up every week for what ever book we are reading, next week is Peter Pan if you’d like to join us? We’re here every Saturday at 11,” Y/N offered.

“You haven’t even heard me read Matilda from memory and you’re already asking me to come back?” Spencer smirked as their faces lit up.

“No way, prove it!” Amoreena shouted, shoving him lightly to encourage him to start.

“The Reader of Books,” he began, seeing the pages in his mind as he repeated the words. “It's a funny thing about mothers and fathers. Even when their own child is the most disgusting little blister you could ever imagine, they still think that he or she is wonderful.”

“Okay so you know the beginning,” Y/N teased, opening the book to a random page, “what's on page 32?”

"My name is Jennifer Honey," Miss Honey said. "How do you do, Mrs. Wormwood." Mrs. Wormwood glared at her and said, "What's the trouble then?" Nobody invited Miss Honey to sit down so she chose a chair and sat down anyway. "This", she said, "was your daughter's first day at school." "We know that," Mrs Wormwood said, ratty about missing her programme. "Is that all you came to tell us?" Miss Honey stared hard into the other woman's wet grey eyes, and she allowed the silence to hang in the air until Mrs. Wormwood became uncomfortable. "Do you wish me to explain why I came?" she said.

Amoreena thought it was the coolest thing ever, reading the page and jumping up and down when he was correct, “how did you do that?”

“I can remember every word I’ve ever read, I have a pretty interesting brain,” he explained it as overdramatic as he could, knowing she would find it magical.

“You’re so cool!” She swooned, dropping back against the blanket just as dramatically.

Y/N was all smiles, running her fingers through Amoreena’s hair and giggling slightly at the sight of her silly child. “Spencer, would you like to do the honours today?”

She handed him the book, knowing he didn’t need it. He gently opened it, starting on the first page and starting to read it the way his mother would. Bringing out voices, hand gestures, all the bells and whistles.

They were in the field together until the sun started to set, casting a purple and orange glow over the pond. Amoreena was resting in Y/N’s arms, legs extended over Spencer’s lap as they sat close. It was the most perfect Saturday he has had in a long time. Probably the best day of his life, actually.

“Matilda leapt into Miss Honey's arms and hugged her, and Miss Honey hugged her back, and then the mother and father and brother were inside the car and the car was pulling away with the tyres screaming. The brother gave a wave through the rear window, but the other two didn't even look back. Miss Honey was still hugging the tiny girl in her arms and neither of them said a word as they stood there watching the big black car tearing round the corner at the end of the road and disappearing for ever into the distance. The end.”

He closed the book softly, setting it down on the blanket and looking at them softly, “am I still invited next week?”

“Absolutely,” Y/N smiled, “I’m dressing as Tinker Bell, Amoreena will be Peter Pan, and you can be anyone else of your choosing.”

“I’ll keep it a surprise until next week,” Spencer smiled right back.

Amoreena crawled out of Y/N’s lap and leapt into Spencer’s arms, hugging him tightly in her small arms. “That was the best story ever, thank you!”

Everything in the world felt right then, hugging her back while he smiled at her mother. Y/N had a hand over her heart as she swooned, watching her daughter bond with the man who just happened to wander into their picnic.

“Can I get your number?” Y/N asked softly, “you know, so we can arrange outfits and stories as the week's pass.” She shrugged, licking her lips slightly as she blushed.

“Of course, I’m not on duty for the rest of the month, so if you wanted to go to a museum or anything, I’m free? Since I look so much like I should work there,” he teased Amoreena.

“I’m sure lovey would like that?” Y/N leaned over Amoreena’s shoulder, holding her around her waist and tickling her softly.

Lovey

It was a nickname that made perfect sense in his mind. Amoreena, the keyword being Amore, to love. She was very loveable, incredibly vibrant and full of innocence, a life that was full of possibilities, wonderful like her mother.

“We’re going to the Smithsonian tomorrow to see the Dino’s,” Amoreena’s face lit up. “Do you know anything about them?”

“Surprisingly enough, while I’m not a paleontologist, I know a lot about dinosaurs, and I might have some connections there to see the rare ones,” he exaggerated his voice again, watching her get so excited she started to run around with her arms in the air.

“You don’t have to if you’re busy,” she says softly when Amoreena is far enough away, picking flowers as she ran around.

“I’d love to, actually, thank you,” he whispers towards Y/N. “I haven’t been having the greatest week.”

“Is it okay for me to ask what you do?” She asked, just as softly as Amoreena kept running around the field.

“I’m a profiler, I consult on intense cases.”

“The strange man comment makes more sense now,” she smiled. “we’re looking for a literary historian at the library right now, I’m sure remembering every word in every book would get you hired, you know if you wanted to switch careers for something easier on your soul?”

“I have been thinking of leaving, in all honesty, I’ve actually been having more of a rough 15 years,” he tries to laugh but he just feels frustrated. “It’s been really hard.”

“For everything you see, you’re still a very sweet man, not many people would sit down and occupy his time with an autistic 7-year-old,” she complimented him with a smile, sharing something personal in a way that would fit right into the conversation and not make a big deal. “We really did enjoy your company today.”

He handed her a business card from his pocket, feeling a bit overwhelmed and emotional as he handed it to her, “I've had a wonderful time. I'm also autistic, I know what it's like to want to share the world while no one wants to listen, thank you for letting me join you. Let me know what time you’re going to the museum tomorrow and I will be there.”

Y/N’s face lit up once more, reading the card over before sliding it into her bag. “Do you want a PB&J or a ham and cheese sandwich for lunch tomorrow?”

“PB&J is a great museum lunch,” he bit his lip so he’d stop smiling, it was beginning to feel embarrassing with how much he liked her already. Not used to random kindness from smart and beautiful women.

Amoreena came running back then, handing Spencer a handful of flowers upon her arrival. “For you, Sir Knight,” she bowed as he took them.

“I bid you a good day, my fair ladies,” Spencer plaid along, standing to curtsy back.

“We’ll see you tomorrow then?” Y/N asked from the blanket as Amoreena dove into her arms.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Spencer smiled one last time.

“Bye Spencer!!” Amoreena cheered as he waved, walking back down the path towards the main park entrance.

With his satchel draped over his shoulder, he pushed his sleeves up as he walked towards his bike, overwhelmed by the feeling of joy still swirling in his blood. Peddling his way down the path with a smile on his face, excited to get home and plan for the Smithsonian tomorrow, he was an excellent tour guide.

And he did actually have some connections.

Calling the museum curator, an old friend from years ago who owed him a favour. Asking if there was any way he could show his friend and her kid around the un-displayed dinosaurs and fossils, of course she said yes. People seemed to do anything for Dr. Reid of the FBI.

He thought about her job offer then as he hung up, reaching the train station finally and making his way back to his sad apartment. It would be nice to change things up for a bit, it’s not like he couldn’t go back to the FBI in 20 years like Rossi did.

15 years in the field and a metric fuck ton of trauma later, he was officially fed up. Opening his computer the second he got home, writing his 2 weeks notice to be forwarded to Mateo Cruz.

—

He woke up with excitement, for the first time in years.

Well, at first he was happy, then he thought about it too long. Despair creeping in, it was truly sad to think that he’s been sad for so long, desperately needing the happiness Y/N and Amoreena brought to his life.

Like when he spent time around Henry or Hank, there was something so rewarding about witnessing a child see something for the first time. Explaining the world to them, seeing their eyes widen as they enjoyed the world around them.

It was the best thing someone could do, spending the day living with the happiness of a child.

Y/N had texted him right as he woke up, the chime of a new message actually making him smile instead of panic.

Y/N: hey smartie pants, we’re thinking 11 am today. Can we meet you out front?”

Spencer: sure! You should start preparing to hear me ramble all day long. Also my I suggest bringing proper shoes for lots of walking and a backpack for the things Amoreena will get to bring home!

Y/N: oh you weren’t kidding about those connections huh?

Spencer: nope!

Y/N: well, can’t wait to see what you have in store for us! (And to hear your voice all day ♥︎)

It made his heart swell, he could swear it grew three sizes as it pushed against his ribs. Trying to break free from him and run to her, he hadn’t felt this strongly about another person in a very long time.

It wasn’t lust, it wasn’t greed, it wasn’t desperation. He didn’t just want to sleep with her or use her to fill his time, she wasn’t just another friend to occupy his days and talk to when he had to, she was special. She was interesting, she was kind, she was beautiful, she reminded him of his own mother in a strange way that made him fear Fraud was right.

He found a comfort in her that felt a little like home, like all his running led him to her. She was the end of the finish line, the cold glass of water, the euphoric pride of a job well done. She was everything good wrapped up in a beautiful bow and he was gone.

Feeling like he did when he met Ethan, Derek, or Elle for the first time, even Maeve when they were just talking on the phone, that butterfly feeling that excited him to try something new.

Y/N made him believe in possibilities again.

It felt nice to look ahead, to dream and wish of the future and not see death and destruction. Instead, dreaming of them running through the fields, flowers dancing everywhere as they hear Amoreena’s laughter. It’s how life is supposed to be.

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #amoreena #fluff

[sunkissedspider]

Complicated | Peter Parker

Complicated | Peter Parker

Complicated | Peter Parker

MASTERLIST

***taglist is open!!! just send an ask or message me and i’ll add you :)***

***requests are open!!! just send an ask or message me your request if you have one :)***

pairing: Peter Parker x reader

summary: your and Peter's relationship is strictly physical... but what happens when feelings get in the way?

warnings: angst, smut, unprotected sex (please wrap it before you tap it), making out, language, fluff, etc.

listen to: i love you, bitches broken hearts, wish you were gay, and my boy by Billie Eilish (get ready for some Sad Vibes™ and some Angry Vibes™)

word count: 5.9k+ (👀👀)

a/n: parts of this are super angsty and sad. does it have a happy ending?... we'll see 👀. sorry for any spelling and/or grammar errors!!

     You and Peter had a... complicated relationship, to say the least. Not only had you two been best friends since the third grade, but you had also been sleeping with each other for a year and a half. You guys had make the decision to lose your virginities to each other, and since it went really well, you both thought "why not do this for a while?".

    No, you and Peter weren't dating, you were strictly friends with benefits. Honestly, you sometimes didn't understand why you guys weren't official, but then you remembered the conversation that you two had had with each other after the first few times you guys had sex. The conversation about how if sleeping with each other didn't ruin your friendship, dating probably would. Sure, you two still did the same things that you did before you guys had first slept together. Movie nights every Friday after school, hours spent at the carnival with Ned, MJ, and Betty, drives to the diner at 3 am whenever you got bored... only now, they were followed by absolutely mind-blowing sex. It was never awkward after though, like how you originally thought it would be.

    You found it funny how you could always tell whenever Peter was horny; the way he would squirm in his seat, how he would move his textbooks to cover the bulge in his jeans, how needy he was, and no many other countless things. You couldn't even remember how many times you'd be watching t.v. on his couch, and he'd just lean over and kiss your neck in the way that drove you crazy, and then you'd end up having fucking incredible sex on every surface of his apartment.

    But the times weren't always happy. Sometimes you'd fight. And when you cough, you fought. Yelling, screaming, doors slamming, the whole shebang. You two fought like you were a couple, but you knew you'd never be an actual one, and you kind of liked it that way, if you were being honest. You got all of the sex and the talking and (most) of the good things, all without the commitment (even though you both weren't sleeping or dating other people). And you always had thought that Peter liked it that way too.

***

    "Petey!" You exclaimed, sitting down in front of him at the cafeteria, his eyes moving to look up at you from his phone. "I've got an idea."

    "What is it?" He asked, with raised suspicion in his voice, noticing your wicked smile.

    "Can we please, please, please go to that abandoned building that we drove past that one time?" You whisper-scream, your eyes darting all around Peter's face, trying to guess his response.

    "Absolutely not," He breathes out, laughing quietly. "That place looks haunted as fuck. There's no way in hell I'm going in there."

    "But I love scary shit! Please, Peter?" You plead, giving him the best puppy dog eyes you could, but he just looks away from you.

    "No way, Y/N L/N." He elaborates, taking a sip of your water that he had stolen from you.

    "Come on, Pete." You whined, before lowering your voice, reaching to race small circles on one of his forearms and hands. "I'll do that thing that you like so much." You bit your lip softly, looking up at him through your long eyelashes, knowing that it drives him crazy.

    He clenches his jaw, a slight blush covering his cheeks, looking up at the ceiling in thought for a moment before looking back at you, his eyes darkened with lust. "Fine. But only because you're my best friend and you're really good at it."

***

    It was about two hours after Peter dropped you off at your apartment that he knocked on your door, his "adventure bag" in his hands.

    "Ready?" He asked, holding up two flash lights, an excited smile on his face.

    You nodded eagerly, saying goodbye to your parents before grabbing your own bag, meeting Peter out in the hallway. He grabbed onto your hand softly, both of you walking out of your apartment building, matching goofy grins on your faces.

***

    "Here you go," Peter laughed, opening the passenger side door for you, shutting it when you were buckled in. "You excited?" He asked after sliding into the car, buckling his won seatbelt.

    "Very," You said, laughing slightly as you looked through all of the personal mix CDs that you and Peter had made together, perfectly fitting your matching taste in music. "I can't believe I actually convinced you to go with me."

    "I get to spend, like... Wait, three hour drive there, we'll spend, like, two hours there, and then three hour drive back... Yeah, I get to spend eight extra hours with you, so, really, it's awesome either way." He breathed out, looking over at your as you continued flipping through the CDs, looking up at him briefly to smile at him.

"I, uh, I bought some extra stuff from Mr. Delmar's too." He said, reaching into the back seat of his car, grabbing his, what you two called it, adventure bag. "Two sandwiches with pickle, a couple packs of gum, two Cokes, a few waters, and another CD." He says, smiling at you, reaching over to do your handshake, but you just ignored it. Instead, you leaned over the center console, hugging Peter tightly.

    He just smiled, hugging you back even tighter, moving his head to kiss you on the cheek before you two smiled even wider, pulling away before starting the radio, Peter pulling out of the parking lot, the GPS on his phone already coming on, telling him to turn left in six miles.

***

    "Okay, okay. Uhm... Jennifer Aniston?" You asked, taking a sip of your water.

    "Oh, hell yeah. I'd do her in a heartbeat." He says almost immediately, causing you both to laugh loudly.

    "Harry Styles?" He asks, switches lanes on the highway as you smile widely.

    "Abso-fuckin'-lutely! How could anyone not wanna fuck him?" You both laugh, before Peter's face suddenly turns serious.

    "Are you, uh... Are you, ya know, sleeping with anyone else?" He asks, his Adam's apple bobbing as he gulps nervously.

    You scoff, slapping Peter playfully on the chest. "No, Pete. I'm shocked that someone as hot as you wants to sleep with me. Besides, I like having sex with you. You're fucking amazing in bed." You giggle quietly, looking at the way Peter's cheeks are flushed a bright red at your praise.

    Peter tries his best to not let a cocky smile take over his face. Obviously he knows how good he is in bed. The noises that you make and the praises that you give him are more than enough for him to know what he's doing is good.

    "Are- Are you?" You ask, butterflies flying around deep in your stomach. You knew that you and Peter weren't official. But, for some reason, the thought of him sleeping with another girl made you sick to your stomach.

    "Nope. I've never even come close to it. I'm comfortable with you, and sleeping with you is always nice. I don't trust anyone as much as I trust you, and you know how important trust is to me." He breathes out, laughing nervously.

    You let out a breath that you were holding. If Peter had been sleeping with another person, he would've told you, and you would've been able to tell even before that. You two were best friends, after all. You knew Peter better than you knew yourself, and vise versa.

***

    You and Peter had a blast at the old building, and he ended up being glad that you could convince him to go. Well, he would be gone either way just to spend time with you, but it was cute seeing how much you wanted him to join you.

    It's never awkward hanging out with Peter even though you two are sleeping together. Well, it's usually never awkward. If it is, it's only ever when he's dropping you back off at your apartment. You never know whether you two should kiss or if you should just do your secret handshake. That was the one thing you could never figure out about Peter; "Does he wanna kiss me? Does he not wanna kiss me? Do I wanna kiss him?" were the thoughts that ran through your brain constantly, and most of the time you couldn't even look into Peter's eyes when he dropped you off at your place.

    He was always gentleman though. Especially when you two were having sex. He would always make sure that you were okay, constantly reminding you of how beautiful you were, how good you felt, how much he was enjoying it, while still making sure you were, etc.

    Along with the incredible sex, you and Peter had a nearly unbreakable bond... and you weren't sure if you wanted to test how it could break. Peter is the best friend you've ever had. He was always there to listen, to talk, to be your shoulder to cry on, and so many other things. He was your partner in crime, your ride or die, your boyfriend that wasn't a boyfriend... but who knows, maybe you did want to be with Peter. Even you didn't know the answer to that. And you didn't know if you ever would.

***

    "I've got some news!" You squealed, sitting down across from Peter at the lunch table, where you always sat. It had been a few days since you and Peter had gone on your little road trip together, and you had already planned to go back again the following weekend.

    "What is it?" He asked, smiling when he saw how happy you were.

    "Alright... guess who just asked me out to the movies on Friday..." You said, you're eyes blowing wide with excitement.

    It took Peter everything in him to not clench his jaw in anger, trying his best to keep a happy smile on his face. "Who?" He asked, one of his hands holding yours and he rubbed his thumb over the smooth skin.

    "Brennan fucking Daniels!" You exclaimed, your smile even wider.

    "Oh shit! That's awesome!" Peter said, lying to you for the first time in years.

    He hated Brennan. Not just because he liked you and you liked him, or the fact that you and Peter were sleeping with each other, but because he was an asshole. Sure, he seemed nice on the outside, but Peter knew just how cruel he could be. Brennan used to live in the apartment next to Peter's, and even though you lived in the apartment right below Peter's, you never really saw Brennan. But Peter saw, and heard, everything. He saw how in the mornings girls would leave Brennan's apartment with tears in their eyes, their sneakers in their hands as they sped down the hallways, not wanting anyone to know that they were crying. He would date another beautiful girl every two weeks, and then he would throw them away just like they were nothing. Brennan Daniels was a player, he always had been and he always would be, and Peter was shocked that someone as incredible as you was going after an asshole like that.

    "I'm sorry that I'm missing movie nigh for the first time in... what? Six years? Seven years? But I promise you that I'll stop by your apartment as soon as my date is over. How about we watch The Notebook this time?" You asked, your eyes turning sad slightly, feeling bad that you would miss hanging out with Peter for a few hours.

    "It's fine, don't worry about it. Just have fun and enjoy the movie. I'll stop by Mr. Delmar's and grab some snacks, but just take your time." Peter said, putting on his best fake smile. Here he was again, as always, being the supportive best friend that he always was, putting you happiness ahead of his.

    "Are you sure, Pete? Because I can reschedule, it's not a problem." You ask, making sure that Peter was really okay with it.

    "Positive, just have fun." He fake smiled at you again, trying his best to convince you.

    You just smiled, squeezing his hand before turning to talk to Ned, Betty, and MJ, not noticing the small, single tear sliding slowly down the smooth skin of his face, before he wiped it away quickly, leaning forward to join the conversation that you were having with everyone else.

***

    "Fuck, Brennan! Fuck, fuck, fuck!" You moaned, your back slamming against Brennan's toned chest as his grip on your waist tightened quickly as his pounded into you at a harsh, rough speed, hitting a spot so deep inside of you that your eyes rolled back as you let out a loud, choked out moan.

    "Holy fucking shit. Fuck, are you gonna cum?" He groaned into your ear, his thrusts starting to become sloppier and sloppier as you both came closer to your highs each time he hit deep inside of you.

    "Fuck, yes!" You moaned loudly, squealing loudly when he flipped you both, now pounding into even quicker as he looked into your eyes before dipping his head down, biting hard onto your collar bone, the force of his hips slapping against yours was enough for your bed to slam against the wall repeatedly, making you even gladder that your parents were on a date.

    "Fucking cum for me, Y/N. Shit!" He groaned, his words only spurring you on further until, with one specifically deep thrust, you came undone underneath him, your walls squeezing him tightly as you moaned loudly, causing him to reach his own orgasm as he quickly pulled out of you, pumping hi cock harshly before he released onto your stomach, moaning out you name loudly as his head went back, before he collapsed onto your bed beside you.

    "Fuck," You breathed out, your chest heaving up and down quickly as you tried quickly to regulate your breathing. "That was fucking incredible."

    "Yeah. Shit, I thought that you'd be good in bed, but I didn't think you'd be that good." He laughed, looking over at you as he lifted one of his muscular arms above his head, looking over at you before asking you a questions that made butterflies appear in your stomach again. "How many people have you slept with. I know you couldn't have been a virgin before that, you were too good."

    "Only one, but I've slept with him a lot before." You breathe out, laughing quietly, before you looked over at Brennan, seeing him start to stand up, gathering his clothes that were scattered all over the floor. "What are you doing?" You ask, trying not to sound nervous.

    "I have football practice tomorrow and I need to go home and sleep, but could I see you again sometime soon? I, uh, I had a lot of fun tonight, and I really wanna see you again." He said, slipping his shirt on over his head, pulling his boxers on before he went to your desk, grabbing a towel before walking over to you, wiping his seed off of your stomach for you.

    "I'd like that." You said, reaching a hand softly around one side of his neck, pulling his head down to yours, your lips meeting in a soft kiss.

    After he got dressed and you threw on a pair of sweats and one of your (Peter's) hoodies, you walked Brennan to your front door, stepping into the hallway before kissing him deeply, your arms wrapped around his neck as you stood on your tippy toes, him leaning down to reach your lips, your figure seeming small compared to his 6'5 height.

    "Bye." He said, smiling against your lips before pulling away, clearing his throat loudly when he saw Peter standing at the end of the hallway, his eyes blown wide at the sight of you two kissing in such an intimate way. It made his blood boil and his jaw clench when he saw how you smiled and how happy you seemed when you kissed him.

    "Peter? What are you doing here?" You said, raised alarm in your voice. "I'll see you soon, Brennan." You said, waving him goodbye as Peter walked over to you, your body leaning against your front door frame.

    "What was all of that about?" Peter asks, watching Brennan as he walked away, only turning to look at you when he saw him turn down the hallway.

    "It's nothing, Pete. I thought I was meeting you at your place?" You ask, smiling at Peter, trying to ignore how awkward it was that the guy you were sleeping with caught you with a guy you had just slept with.

    "It's late, I didn't want something bad to happen to you." He smiles back, trying his best to cover the pain he felt.

***

    "Did you guys have sex?" Peter asked, causing you to turn your head away from his t.v., his tone a serious one, a large contrast to the funny, happy scene that was going on during the movie.

    "What?" You ask, laughing, assuming he was joking as you took some popcorn into your hand, your eyes back on the screen as you snacked.

    "Did you sleep with Brennan?" He asked, butterflies flying all around his stomach, nervous about the answer.

    "Yeah," You shrugged, eyes still following the characters around on the screen. "It doesn't really mean anything though."

    "Are you kidding? God, Jesus Christ, please tell me that you're joking." He said, causing you to look at him deeply in the eyes.

    "What's wrong, Pete-" You start, before getting interrupted.

    "'What's wrong?'?... 'What's wrong?'?! Gee, I don't know, Y/N. Maybe the fact that you fucked goddamn Brennan Daniels. You know he's just gonna leave you, right? He does that with every girl he fucks! And maybe its the fact that you didn't even ask me if you could sleep with him?!" Peter yelled, the first time he's ever yelled at you, his jaw clenched tightly, as he talked with his hands, his leg bouncing up and down, a sign that he was angry.

    "Why does it matter so much? It's not like you're my boyfriend!" you snapped back, your body turned to face Peter's.

    "What if I want to be? Have you ever though about that?" He shot back, his eyes darkened with anger.

    "What are you talking about, Peter?" You said, your voice now back to normal, your eyes blown wide as you tried to make sense of what Peter was telling you.

    "Nothing... It's nothing. Get out." He said, his hands going to cover his eyes.

    "What?" You asked, your voice breaking at the harsh words coming from your best friend. From the one person that you trusted the most in this world.

    "Just get out! Get the fuck out!" Peter screamed at you even louder than before, his hands moving from his face to his sides as he stood up, looking at you right in your eyes.

    "Fine." You said, standing up, moving to his front door, slowly opening it, before turning around to look at him again. "Goodbye, Peter." And with that, you left his apartment, quietly closing door, constant streams of tears falling down your face as you desperately tried to wipe them away with the sleeve of Peter's hoodie, his scent that was imprinted on it only making you cry harder.

***

    Peter tried to come by your apartment, climbing down the fire escape from his apartment down to yours. He was about to tap on your window until he saw you on your bed; you sat there, crumpled up in a little ball, wrapped in Peter's sweatshirt and your blankets, only your bedside table light on as you cried, your cheeks stained red from your tears.

    "Fuck," Peter breathed out. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" He muttered before walking back up the fire escape again. His eyes stung as tears pricked up in his waterlines, realizing how bad he had fucked up... realizing that he had lost you.

***

    You sat with Brennan the next day at lunch, trying to avoid Peter as much as you could, which was hard since you had almost all of the same classes. Of course, the awkward eye contact happened a few time in the following weeks of not speaking to him.

    By the third week, both you and Peter had cut everyone off. Even though you were happy with Brennan, and you believed that he truly liked you, you were sluggish and quieter than you usually were. Unless you and Brennan were having sex, you were always bored. You missed the excitement that Peter brought into your life. He was Spider-Man, for Christ's sake, and you missed the way that he would explain his adventures of the day to you, even if most of them were very eventful. You missed the way that his eyes would light up whenever he saw you, or the way his grin would turn cheesy whenever you said a bad, corny dad joke. You missed the way that he made you feel special. Not just durning sex, but whenever you questioned yourself. Whenever you thought  that you looked bad, or whenever you thought that you were stupid because you got a bad grade on a test.

    Peter had always been there for you. Ever since you were nine years old. But now you didn't know if you would ever talk to him again. You tried not to think about it much, but whenever a teacher would say something that you could turn into a "That's what she said" joke, you would always curse yourself for looking next to you at Peter, forgetting for just a brief moment that he wasn't your best friend anymore. That he wasn't even your acquaintance anymore. That he was now just some guy that sat next to you in almost all of your classes. In a few months, you knew that Peter wouldn't even exist to you anymore, and that right now, you probably didn't even exist to Peter at all.

***

    By this point, it had been two months since you had talked to the only person you had ever trusted with everything in you. You and Brennan had broken up a few weeks after the first time you slept together, and everyone was shocked when they found out that you had broken up with him, not the other way around like everyone had expected, Peter was especially surprised. He thought that you had really liked Brennan. Even if you had liked Brennan as much as Peter and everyone had thought, you knew that you couldn't be with him. Other than the fact that he was obviously cheating on you, you did want to stay with the person that had prompted the fight that had ended your friendship with Peter. Part of Peter wanted you to come back and be his friend again immediately, but the other part of Peter knew that that kind of situation wasn't going to happen. He had shut you out and yelled at you for doing something that he couldn't even really control. After all, he had told you that it was fine for you to go on a date with Brennan. And he had known that you probably were going to sleep with him. You were teenagers, that's what teenagers do.

    Peter at this point wasn't even talking to May. It first started when he had quit smiling when they would go get Thai, remembering that it was something you used to join in on. Whenever May would bring you up, Peter's jaw would clench and he'd try and change the subject as quickly as possible. May knew that something was up with your and Peter's friendship after she hadn't seen you for a week. You were either always at Peter's place, he was always at your place, or you guys were always driving around somewhere upstate.

    "Peter," May started, walking in front of him as he was seated on the couch, typing away on his laptop as he worked on an assignment for physics. "What happened to Y/N? I haven't seen her in months."

    "It's nothing. She's just busy." He dismissed as he continued typing quickly.

    "Even when you're both busy, you always find a way to see each other. This is the longest I've seen you be without her since the third grade, Pe-" She said before getting interrupted by Peter.

    "I said it's nothing." He said sternly, his voice turning cold.

    "Peter-"

    "I said it's nothing, May! Jesus Christ, it's fucking nothing!" He yelled, slamming his laptop closed as he got off of the couch, making his way into his bedroom.

    "Peter, you have to tel, me what's going on here. I've never seen you like this. What the hell is wrong?" May asked, concern filling her voice.

    "Shit! I love her. God, I love her, May. I can’t stop thinking about her. I can’t do anything. I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, I can’t concentrate. Please… just tell me what to do.” Peter begged, hot tears beginning to stream down his face, his eyes and cheeks turning red from the overload of emotions he was feeling.

    "I'm sorry to say it, but you can’t do anything when you love someone like that, Peter. But you have to tell her or you’ll go crazy." She said, her eyes turning soft. She felt sympathy for Peter, she knew exactly what he was going through.

    "I don’t want mess up what her and I have. I can’t lose her, May. I can't." Peter chokes out through tears.

    "Just tell her how you feel, Peter. And pray that it’ll work out well."

    "It’s not that simple, May! It’s more complicated than that! I’m sorry that I’m yelling, but I’m suffocating in my own feelings over here! Either I’m numb or I’m feeling everything, May… I can’t do this, it’s too much." Peter said, sinking onto the floor as he let his emotions take over him. May immediately ran over to him, sitting down next to him on the floor, hugging him tightly as he sobbed into May's neck, his hot tears soaking her striped shirt.

    "You need to go talk to her, Peter. As soon as you possibly can, or you're gonna lose it before you can even say her name." ay said, kissing the top of his head as she pulled away, looking at Peter with sadness in her eyes as he tried to wipe some of is tears away with his hoodie, the one that you had given back to him by leaving it in a brown paper bag my his window on the fire escape.

***

    You sat on your bed, trying your best to read one of your favorite books in a desperate attempted to make yourself feel better as one of your and Peter's favorite playlists played quietly in the background.

    You jumped sightly when you heard the tapping on your window... it had been a while since you had heard it. Butterflies swarmed your stomach when you saw Peter, and you tried your best to wipe away the tears that filled your eyes and that trailed down your face slowly.

    You and Peter looked at each other for the longest time you had in two months, both of you not breathing when you unlocked and opened your window, stepping back to let Peter climb through.

    "Can I hug you?" He asked, more tears forming in your eyes as you heard him speak to you for the first time in two months.

    "Y-yeah." You managed to choke out.

    That was all Peter needed to hear before he wrapped his arms tightly around you, both of you immediately sobbing loudly into each other's embrace.

    "Fuck, Y/N. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry." Peter said over and over again, your head buried in his chest.

    "I'm sorry, Peter. I should've talked to you, I should've asked you. God, I'm so sorry, Pete." You cried, both of your grips tightening around each other.

    "No, it's my fault. I overreacted. It's just that... I- I..." Peter stuttered out, his grip around you loosening as you stepped only a few feet away to get a good look at his face.

    "What is it, Peter?" You asked, one of your hands going up to cup one of his cheeks, rubbing your thumb around the skin, remembering how much you had missed the smoothness of it.

    "I-, I'm just gonna say it because I can't think of any other way to put it... Y/N L/N, I'm in love with you. I'm so in love with you that it hurts. I've been in love with you since we were nine years old, and that's the reason I freaked out about Brennan. I love you so fucking much, Y/N. Jesus Christ, I can't breathe without you, I can't sleep, I can barely even do my fucking homework without you being around me. And I know that yo probably don't feel the same way about me, and that's okay, but-" He breathed out, a weight visibly lifting from is shoulders and he continued rambling, before you interrupted him.

    "Peter, shut the fuck up." You laughed, causing him to top dead in his tracks.

    "W-what?" He asked, his eyes widening with fear.

    "I'm in love with you too, Peter. God, how could I not be? You're the sweetest, smartest, funniest guy I know. And I am so in love with you that I can't even read my favorite fucking book!" You said before stepping closer to him, your arms slowly starting to wrap themselves softly around his neck.

    "Can I kiss you?" He asked, his arms starting wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to each other.

    "Please." You breathe out quietly.

    And with that, you and Peter kissed for the first time in what felt like forever. Just two dumb and in love kids. You stood up on your tippy toes to deepen the kiss. It was one of those movie kisses... the total sparks flying, butterflies in the stomach kisses. It was one of the main things that you had missed. You missed how perfectly his lips molded to your, like they were two puzzle pieces that could only fit together with the other.

    "Peter," You moaned when he started to kiss down your neck, his hands quickly lifting your sweatshirt off of you, you crawling onto the bed when you felt the backs of your legs hit your bed. "Please." You said, Peter's body situated between yours as he kissed your neck, his sweatshirt already discarded somewhere on your floor, your bare chests pressed against each other's.

    "Please what?" He smirked against your chest, nipping on your bare breasts lightly.

    "Fuck, make love to me, Peter." You begged, your back arching and a moan escaping your lips from the love bites Peter was giving you.

    He looked up at you for a few seconds, your eyes meeting his, a soft smile covering your face as you ran your hands through Peter's curly brown locks, missing how they felt against your fingers.

    You met your lips with Peter's, telling hi that you wanted him, and he kissed you back, a way of him showing you that it wanted you back.

    Peter pulled away after a few minutes, his fingers going to the waistband of your sweatpants, pulling them down, along with your underwear, before sitting back to take his own off. You licked your lips when his member sprung up against his lower stomach. If you both weren't so needy right now, you would've taken your time. But you two needed each other now more than ever.

    Peter hovered over you again, his body between yours, is hard length in his hand.

    "Ready?" He asked. The things that boy did to you... he always made you feel special, you didn't understand how he did it... it just came natural to him.

    "Yes..." You whispered, connecting your lips with his as he slid into you, both of you moaning loudly into each other's mouths.

    "Fuck!" You said in sync, your legs wrapping around Peter's waist before he started with a slow pace, wanting to make it last. He knew it probably wouldn't last as long as he would want it to, but goddamn, you felt fucking incredible around him.

    "Shit, you're so tight!" He groaned, his head dipping down to kiss your lips tenderly, your lips parting to deepen the kiss as his thrusts sped up, causing you to whimper loudly into his mouth as he groaned.

    "Fuck, Peter!" You screamed when he hit a spot so deep inside of you that it made your head spin as your back arched, your chests pressing against each other's even more, the feeling of Peter's skin on yours feeling like heaven.

    Even with all of the experience Brennan had, Peter knew how your body worked better than you did yourself. He knew just what to do to get you to come undone underneath him, to have your eyes squeeze tightly shut, to have you screaming him name in only minutes.

    "God, fuck," He groaned, his head going to suck deep purple marks into the crook of your neck, loud moans leaving the both of you. "Jesus, I'm already close, baby. I don't know how long I'm gonna last. You feel t fucking good around me."

    "Fuck, cum for me, Peter. Please." You begged, your eyes squeezing shut at the feeling of Peter hitting deep inside of you, along with the words and groans coming out of his mouth.

    He reached his hand down in between the two of you, rubbing harsh, tight circles on your clit, causing you to move your hands into his hair, tugging harshly as you came closer and closer to reaching your high.

    "Fuck, P-Peter! I'm gonna cum!" You screamed, Peter groaning into your ear only spurring you on, along with the sensations on your clit. Within seconds, you were coming undone around him, your walls clenching tightly around his length as your legs tightened around his waist, your arms hugging his body closer to your.

    And with only a few final thrusts, Peter was a complete groaning mess, his hips stilling as he came inside of you, his body collapsing on top of yours when his strength completely gave out, his head falling onto your chest.

    The next few moments were spent in a comfortable silence, your hands smoothing up and down Peter's arms and back and you both tried to get your breathing to calm down.

    "Y/N?" Peter said, looking up at you with his beautiful brown eyes. The sight would melt anybody's heart immediately, you were sure of it.

    "Yeah, Pete?" You said, kissing his forehead before meeting his eyes again.

    "God, I'm gonna sound like a little kid, but, uh... will you, ya know, be my girlfriend? Just us? No one else?" He asked, his heart rate speeding up a bit out of nervousness.

    "Of course, dummy." You laughed, Peter moving up to connect your lips in a soft kiss, both of you feeling completely safe.

    "I love you." He said, smiling between kisses.

    "I love you too, Peter."

__________

@ertherealrose​ @peter-tiingle​ @petertiingz​ @fallinfortom​

#peter parker smut #smut #peter parker x reader #peter parker x reader smut #fanfiction #peter parker x y/n #spiderman #spiderman x reader #marvel #marvel fanfiction #fanfic #mcu #peter parker angst #peter parer x reader angst #Peter parker x y/n angst #spiderman ansgt #spiderman x y/n angst #marvel angst #mcu angst

[lemonpeter]

STARKER, By Peter B. Parker

Chapter 1: Fix-it

So @preciouspeterbparker and I have been working on this fic and we are SO excited to finally share this with everyone!! It started as a WandaVision-fueled concept and turned into a whole ass fic. We’re absolutely obsessed and we hope you guys love it as much as we’re loving writing it!! I hope everyone enjoys💕

Summary: After Peter’s identity has been compromised, he runs to the only place he can think of, as memory-filled it may be. He may be alone, but the loneliness was something he’d worked on becoming accustomed to. And it was something he could fix, given the right technology.

Lucky him, that tech fit right in the palm of his hand.

Warnings: Peter is 17, set directly after FFH, canon death mention, canon divergence, inappropriate use of Stark tech

Ao3 link

————

Peter’s eyes were wide as he crouched on top of the lamp post and stared at the screen, stunned. This couldn’t be happening. Not here, not now.

It had to have been an illusion. It wasn’t real. Right?

His brain was racing, thoughts moving too quickly to keep up with what was going on.

His name was said. His real name. The name ‘Peter Parker’ didn’t just belong to a nobody anymore.

It belonged to Spider-Man.

Which meant it belonged to the public. The public who blindly believed that he was a murderer.

His body moved before he could think about what he was doing, swinging over the crowds that stared at him in shock. He ignored the sound of MJ calling his name from below, desperate to get away. And it would be better for her if she wasn’t associated with him. She’d be safe if people didn’t know.

People yelled, their voices coupled with the sounds of the city pushing him towards overstimulation. They were angry, throwing things in an attempt to knock him down. But nothing got high enough. He stayed well above everyone, breathing heavily. He felt like he was going to pass out.

His eyes flitted around, glancing at all the buildings around him, all the possible routes, without really focusing on any of them. Where was he going? He couldn’t go home; there was no way he could face May. It was guaranteed that she’d seen the clip already and he didn’t want her to be super worried about him. He couldn’t do that to her. Not when things had finally started looking up for her, not when she finally seemed truly happy again.

Ned’s house wasn’t an option either. His best friend’s parents had a shaky opinion of Spider-Man last time he’d heard and he didn’t want his entire friendship to fall apart there.

He definitely couldn’t involve Michelle in this. They had pretty much moved on from their ill-fated attempt at romance that ended when she couldn’t deal with the nightmares he still had, but he wasn’t over it enough for that to be a viable option.

His brain screamed one name but his heart ached over the mere thought. He could only imagine one way for this to be okay, for him to ever feel truly okay again. It wasn’t even a possibility anymore and he knew it. But that didn’t make the pain any less excruciating.

No matter how much he wanted it to happen, Tony couldn’t save him from this.

The reality tugged at his heart and stole the breath from his lungs. He had to pause on top of a building, perched on the ledge so he could easily take off again if he needed to.

It had been almost nine months since the man had died. Since he’d saved everyone else and sacrificed himself. But it still hurt Peter like the wound was fresh.

He knew that the move had to be made. Someone had to do it.

But god, he wished he had been the one to take the fall. There wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t regret not getting the gauntlet from Mr. Stark before he snapped.

Maybe his motives were purely selfish. Because any time he considered the idea, it wasn’t for the good of everyone else.

He just didn’t like living in a world without Tony Stark.

Peter heard someone opening the door that led to the rooftop and he bolted again, not needing to be caught. But he still needed to figure out his destination.

Then it clicked. A real possibility. Even though he’d have to do more than swing to get there.

The compound upstate.

It was almost completely in ruins when he’d last seen it, destroyed by Thanos and his army. And it wasn’t likely it was too much better since the person funding it….

Well, he couldn’t be in charge of the upkeep anymore. Peter didn’t even like thinking about that part of it.

But he’d be able to hide there for a while, at least. Completely unbothered. There weren’t too many people that knew about the exact location or how to get there. So he’d be safe while everything cooled down.

He could use some time alone anyways.

In order to get there, he’d need to drive. But he didn’t exactly have access to a car. And it was highly unlikely he’d be able to get an Uber while everyone thought he was a murderer.

There was one person he knew he could trust. Although Peter wasn’t sure he wanted to pull him into everything.

But he really did need a ride. He had to get out of the city. There was no other option.

“Karen? Can you call Happy for me?”

“Of course, Peter.”

There was a dialing noise for a few seconds before the call picked up.

“Peter? Where are you?” Happy was as harsh as ever as soon as he picked up.

Peter swallowed down the lump in his throat. “I need a favor. Please, I need a ride to get out of town. I can’t deal with all of this. Please.” His voice cracked pitifully on the last word.

A moment of silence before a heavy sigh crackled through the speakers in his mask, the sharp sound making him wince. “May wants you to come home. She’s kind of freaking out here, she just saw the news.”

Peter chewed his lip, his eyes dropping to the crowds in the street below. They were all watching him, phones trained on his every move. The feeling of their eyes on him made his skin crawl. “I can’t. Tell her I’m sorry, but I can’t go home. Not right now. Not yet.”

Happy didn’t say anything for a minute, but Peter could hear May’s frantic plea in the background. He felt horrible. But he couldn’t go back. Nearly everyone in the whole city was against him. He couldn’t deal with that. And he didn’t want May to have to figure everything out for him.

Finally the other man spoke again. “I can’t help you. It’s not that I don’t understand, it’s the principle. I’m not helping you run away.”

“I’m not-“

“You are. It doesn��t matter the circumstance. You’re running away. And I’m not going to be a part of it. Just come home, Peter,” Happy told him, his voice gentler then the young man had ever heard it.

“Karen, end call.” In a brief moment of anger, Peter hung up. He knew Happy and May were right. But he just couldn’t go home. He was already sick of being leered at and the broadcast had just gone live. It would only get worse.

And he still didn’t have a ride.

A heavy sigh left him, the sound accurately conveying his sheer exhaustion.

The directions to the compound were something he knew well, he’d probably be able to instruct someone there in his sleep. That wasn’t the issue. It was just so far and without a ride it would take forever.

Maybe a run would do him good. A very, very long run.

***

He’d made an extremely brief stop before leaving the city, buying a set of civilian clothes (even though that didn’t matter, where he was going), a small backpack to hold everything, and enough food for approximately two weeks. It wasn’t the most nutritious stuff, but it was something he could survive on until he felt safe enough to go back home.

After that, it took a few hours for him to finally reach the compound site, but at least he hadn’t been spotted. Most of his escape had been through woods, so despite the fact that he was now an extremely recognizable face, no one saw him. Or tried to come after him, at least.

The sun had set, only the barest bit of orange still hanging above the horizon as he walked up to the damaged building. At least it wasn’t quite as bad as he’d remembered.

It was completely destroyed in some places, while others were just crumbling. It seemed like someone had tried to fix bits and pieces, but eventually just gave up. No longer was it the beautiful campus that Tony created. But it would do for what he needed.

Peter headed to one of the more intact areas, breathing heavily as he finally was able to relax. No more running to try and get to his destination as fast as possible. He was there and he could finally calm down.

No one else was within miles of the place. He was safe.

But it was so lonely. That was par for the course, though, he supposed. He’d been feeling lonely for a while now, despite the best attempts of those around him.

He decided to settle down in one of the old training rooms. It was probably one of only spaces still mostly together. The roof hadn’t been displaced at all, the walls only had the slightest bit of charring. The space was huge, but a lot of it was taken up by pieces of furniture and equipment. At least it didn’t feel extremely empty.

He sat on the ground, eyes slipping shut as he leaned his head against the wall. It was almost nice to be able to just sit and not be worried about being caught.

Almost.

The silence screamed at him, amplifying his anxious thoughts and nearly suffocating him.

Having someone to talk to would have been nice. But who was he supposed to talk to? He still felt bad about hanging up on Happy, so he wasn’t a choice and neither was May. Ned would probably make things worse, despite just wanting to help, so he couldn’t do that either. Thinking about MJ just made him feel guilty, so she was off limits too.

No, if he was honest with himself, there was only one person he really wanted to talk to.

The thought took him by surprise all over again, grief clenching around his heart like a vice grip.

Tony would know what to do. He’d be able to easily get Peter out of the insane situation, fixing everything all up again and making it all right. He’d gotten himself out of plenty of messes, why would this be different?

For just a moment, Peter smiled to himself as he imagined how Mr. Stark would have handled everything. None of it would have felt so grave. There would have been a joke or two made before he worked his magic and made Peter safe again. It would have been over and forgotten about before dinner.

Then reality sunk in again, as it always did.

Tony wasn’t there to help. He couldn’t be. Wouldn’t be ever again.

Peter didn’t like thinking about the fact that he was gone, but if he didn’t tell himself that it was true, that it had really happened, then he’d get hope again and fall apart. He didn’t have the luxury of falling apart when everything was already such a mess.

As a distraction, he began sorting through the backpack he’d gotten, taking out every item and looking it over. Then he got to the front pocket and remembered the last thing he had tucked inside.

Since getting them back, Peter didn’t go anywhere without the EDITH glasses. He’d made the mistake of giving them to someone else before, a mistake he was clearly going to keep paying for. He couldn’t let anyone else get a hold of them again.

He slowly pulled them out, holding onto them for a moment and looking at them. His last gift from Tony. An extremely powerful gift that probably should have been given to someone else. But they weren’t. They were his, for better or worse.

Their full capabilities hadn’t really been something he’d thought about. He didn’t know much of anything about them, really. He knew they had an AI that had absolutely no chill and could control drones, but that was about it.

Peter hadn’t considered what the drones could actually do. The projections that Beck created had been intense and so real, it was hard to believe that he held the power to such a thing in his hands.

If entire beings and monsters could be created, what else could they do?

A sudden thought appeared, prodding at the grieving part of his brain. What were the limits of the projections? How much could they create?

How real could the illusions get?

Letting himself fantasize about possibilities was dangerous and he knew it. But just messing around with the technology wouldn’t be so bad, right? He was just going to familiarize himself with it some more. See what it was capable of.

For the night, however, he needed to sleep. It had been an exhausting day and his eyelids were heavy. The floor wasn’t the most comfortable place ever, but it would do for the first night.

He was asleep within minutes of laying down, dreams of bringing Tony back comforting him. Fantasy was dangerous, no matter how he tried to excuse it.

But maybe it didn’t have to stay just a fantasy.

***

Peter slowly slid the glasses on, breathing shakily. His stomach was churning anxiously. He was still reeling from yesterday’s events and what they meant for him.

But at least now he had an idea, something to focus on, to keep him from getting trapped in a downward spiral.

“Hello, Peter,” EDITH greeted, voice soothing as always.

“Hey, um-“ he raked a hand through his hair. What was he doing? He didn’t have a plan. He had no idea what to ask, or how to ask it without sounding crazy.

EDITH, as intuitive as they came, seemed to sense his pause. “What do you need help with today, Peter?”

He opened his mouth, then closed it again. Swallowed down the lump in his throat. “So...you know how Be- how Mysterio used the drones?” It was probably awful phrasing given everything that had happened. But it was his only frame of reference for the tech’s use first-hand.“Can I do that? The...the pictures and all. Projections.”

“Yes, Peter. You have access to each of those systems. Would you like to call them here?”

He sucked in a harsh breath. That was something. Maybe… “I...yeah. Please.” He knew the vast majority of the drones had been destroyed in the battle on the bridge. But he was sure that, in true Tony Stark fashion, there were more out there somewhere. Mr. Stark was nothing if not prepared.

Peter knew that the drones could create projections, illusions, elaborate scenes that were impossible to tell from reality. But he didn’t just want to see. He wanted to feel, too.

“EDITH? Can you run me through the programming you run on? Basics, advanced, everything in between.” He certainly had the time to go over it all.

“Of course, Peter.”

He had all the time in the world to figure things out, as far as he was concerned. And once he understood how the tech worked, he could bring his questionable plan to life. Piece of cake.

***

As requested, EDITH filled him in on everything. Her own coding and controls, as well as the tech she was based on, BARF (the name never failed to force a hint of a smile to his lips). He had a pretty good understanding of how it worked, especially after watching a video of the presentation Tony gave at MIT.

BARF allowed the wearer of the glasses to access their hippocampus and project their memories. Though Tony always maintained that the tech was intended to be therapeutic and assist in healing from past traumatic events, Beck had obviously allowed for the projection of whatever the wearer desired.

In this case, if it worked correctly, whatever Peter desired.

Since he wanted to be able to actually feel the illusion, he’d have to alter the programming to interact with other parts of his brain. Namely the parietal lobe, which was responsible for tactile sensory information.

Shouldn’t be too hard.

***

Peter slipped the glasses on again. “Hi, EDITH,” he started, biting his lip. Was he really going to do this?

“Hello, Peter. What can I help you with?”

“Run program: STARKER.” He’d slipped some of his own programming into her code in order to do what he wanted. No turning back now. He closed his eyes and prayed to whoever was listening that it worked.

It had to work.

He thought of the only place he wanted to be right now. The place where he’d always felt at home.

When he opened his eyes again, he watched as pixels began to overtake the room, going from the ground up as everything fell into place around him. In a passing thought, he noted that it was similar to watching the smooth ooze of the nanobots that made up his Iron Spider suit. Then suddenly he wasn’t in a bare, badly destroyed training room. He was in Tony’s penthouse at the tower.

And he wasn’t the only one. The sight of his own illusion startled him, left him feeling disoriented. Illusion-Peter blinked at him blankly since he wasn’t thinking of anything in particular for him to do. It was...unsettling, looking at himself. Could he-

Closing his eyes again, Peter swallowed. He thought of his illusion, seeing things from his point of view-

When he opened his eyes again, he could no longer see himself. Much better. Now he was still able to see, feel, and interact with everything in the illusion without having to watch it play out like a movie, the way Tony had in that video. It was just like real life.

He looked at his surroundings again.

The window-wall in front of him looked out over the city, and the sun was shining brightly. To his left was a bar, and the elevator was to the right, sandwiched between two staircases, one of which went up and the other down. Peter’s eyes were wide as he slowly turned around, trying to take it all in. The amount of detail was incredible. He hadn’t realized how much of this place he remembered. The little conversation pit was there, complete with the semi-circle couch and the fireplace he’d seen in a photo spread years earlier. Everything screamed Tony, from the decor to the coffee and whiskey scented air.

But despite the astonishing realism, it still felt so empty. The space felt wrong. Incomplete.

There was definitely something missing. Or someone.

Peter chewed his lip, closing his eyes as he focused. Nervous energy was churning in his stomach. “Come on, EDITH,” he mumbled. His hands clenched into fists at his sides. This was it, the make it or break it moment. “Do your thing.”

Everything was silent for a moment and Peter was worried that it hadn’t worked. His heart skipped a beat, thudding painfully in his chest. Maybe all the work he had put in meant nothing since it hadn’t originally been part of the program.

But slowly the pixels started again, building a figure up seemingly out of nowhere until it formed a full person.

The only person he wanted to see right now.

Tony blinked, a bit disoriented before he glanced over and saw Peter. He shot his signature cocky half-smile towards the young man. “Hey, kid. What did I miss?”

Peter let out a choked sound, a mix between a sob and a borderline-hysterical laugh. “Tony,” he rasped.

And suddenly everything felt okay again.

#starker #peter parker #tony stark #tony x peter #tony stark x peter parker #happy hogan #may parker #tw death #death mention #starker angst #angst and feels #SbPBP #Peter’s EDITH!verse

[yangrdn]

Cherry Chap Stick

pairing: Mj x Fem!Reader

a/n: it literally took me MONTHS to finish this bc of lack of motivation and time. But oh my god ... it’s finally done!! Bad news: there’s gonna be a part 2 to this, because else I wouldn’t post it now. It’s my longest fic so far, but ig i’ll write more in future or also part it in 2 parts. enjoy!!

part 2

Summary: You ask your crush, or uses to be crush, for help

words: 2.3k

Warnings: none

my masterlist

→ → → → → → → →

Your heart drops at the sight of the two of them laughing at something he whispered into her ear. Peter and Mj have been spending a lot of time together lately and you don't know how to feel about it. You'd be happy, of course, but then again, you wish you could sit there. No, not with Peter, but with Mj. 

You look back down to your open spanish book and try to concentrate on the task, blocking out the giggles leaving her mouth after he told another, what seems to be, joke. Your mind is racing 100 miles a second trying to find out the answer to the question in your book and trying to listen to the two of your friends at the same time, until, finally, your teacher tells you to pack your things and gives you the homework for the next week. You quickly pack your things and storm out, trying not to walk with Peter and Mj, but you fail. 

"Hey!" You turn around to be met with Peter waving at you and smiling. You smile back and greet him with a quiet 'hello' before letting your head sink again. 

"What's wrong? You seem so...off?" he seemed to notice. Usually you're the one talking non stop and telling him about your week and other exciting things, so of course your sudden silence worries him.

"I just...I don't know. I'm just thinking." You sigh and turn your head to him to let him know you are ok. 

Your mind was racing 100 miles a second. Two days ago you thought you had a crush on your best friend, Peter, turns out you were wrong. So. Very. Wrong. You were sitting in front of your phone when you realized. Katy perry's voice repeating the words over and over again as you scrolled through the endless amount of videos with the same sound on TikTok. In every single video, the girl was kissing another girl and you just couldn't stop thinking about it. What if the girl could've been you and...her? First you thought it was Peter, but then you noticed the different feeling you got thinking about her and let your phone drop. This was all so new for you. 

"About what?" he asks, "you know, you can tell me anything. We're best friends, right?" he says now, much more concerned. You sigh and continue walking after you nod. 

You have only liked boys, and now a girl? At first you tried to excuse it as platonic love. I mean, friends are very close to each other, right? Like, hugging and kissing each other's cheeks? Or cuddling and wanting the other to care about you. But the way you thought about her crossed the line between friends and lovers already. 

You are sitting next to Peter at lunch, whilst Ned is talking about some new lego set he got a week ago. He seems excited so you try your best to seem interested and look like you're listening. But a certain someone keeps distracting you.

"Are you even listening?" Mj snaps her fingers in front of your face twice and laughs. 

"Huh? Uh, yes. I was just thinking...about," you look around the room, "someone." Ned's eyes widen as he sends Peter a look. 

"About someone? Uhm, who?" Peter sits up straighter and purses his lips, trying not to seem interested. You bite the inner side of your cheek and look at Mj, but her head is buried back into her book. 

You sigh. "It's no one, I gotta go." You take your backpack and leave the room, not daring to look behind you. 

After school you don't hesitate before packing your things and going out, leaving your friends confused behind you, calling your name. 

First thing you do is run into your room and close the door, after throwing our backpack on the floor. You let yourself fall face-first on your bed and lay there for some minutes on your stomach, thinking about today, and Mj. 

"Whyyyyy" you whine and turn around laying on your bed. You didn't even have someone to talk about it. You can't tell Mj, because she would ask how you found out and about who you thought. Ned? No, he would go and tell someone else, even on accident.               

Your parents? You don't know how Steve would react. Sure, he is very accepting and you don't think he would bash or embarrass you, but things were way different back then. Bucky? No, he would tell Steve. That leaves you no other chance but to go to your other best friend, Peter. Even if it means risking and telling him you had a crush on him, or at least thought you liked him in that way. 

You quickly jump out of your bed and grab your phone, which lays on the floor after you failed to throw it on your bed. 

The phone rings twice before you hear Peter's voice from the speaker.

"Hello?" 

"Peter, do you have a minute?" you ask, fumbling with your fingers and biting your bottom lip. Your voice probably shaes, because he immediately notices. 

"Uh, yeah. Did something happen? Should I come over?" You smile at him worrying and shake your head, forgetting that he can't see you. 

"Yes and yes. Maybe you can come over now? It's nothing bad, promise. I just...need to talk, y'know?" 

"Yeah, yeah. K, I'll be there in 10," he says and hangs up. 

You quickly lay your phone on your desk and run to the bathroom, washing your face and breathing in and out. How are you going to tell him? "oh yeah, hey Pete. So uhhh...I thought I had a crush on you because I was sad when I saw you and Mj together but turns out that I actually had a crush on Mj and was mad that she was with you." ? No, absolutely not. 

Your heart starts to beat faster after you hear a silent knock on your door. 

"Uh..come in!" You say and leave the bathroom to sit on the bed in the middle of your room. Your heartbeat is so loud and strong, that you're sure Peter can hear it the minute he enters your room. 

"Hey! Is everything alright? You sounded so...worried on the phone," he asks and sits next to you. 

"Uh..yes? I actually wanted to ask you something and don't know how to start..." You look down at your feet on the floor, knitting your hands and biting your lip again. How are you supposed to tell him you've fallen for a girl? Your best friend?

"What's it about? You know you can trust me, right? You're my best friend, I'll always listen to you." You smile at his tenderness and feel another warm feeling spread through you, which makes you stop for a second. But it's not the same warmth you get when talking with Mj or just looking at her. You sigh. 

"It's kind of complicated. I...like someone and 

don't know how to feel about it?" You look up and into his brown eyes. You catch him staring at your lips and quickly look away again, suddenly feeling uncomfortable in his presence. 

"Uhm...that's great?" he says, which comes out more like a question than a statement. 

"Who's it?" he digs in deeper.

 "Oh, is it Brad? Or Flash? Well, I don't think you're in love with Flash, because he-" 

"That's the problem," you calmly say whilst looking anywhere but at him. 

"Problem? So...it is Flash? Or someone else you can't ge-" 

"Peter, it's not even a boy!" you sigh and throw yourself back, now laying on your back and hiding your face in your hands. You feel a blush creep up your face and spread at the back of your neck. 

“Uh...what?” he asks, in hopes he heard you wrong. “You’re in love with a...girl?” he asks again. You feel tears prick your eyes at the way he says girl, as if he is filled with disgust. You nod once and risk moving your hands away from your eyes, opening your eyes and meeting his gaze. The moment he notices the tears in your eyes, his eyes soften too and he sighs. 

“I didn’t mean to sound so...rude. I just- it 's, ugh.” He sighs again and looks up. 

“I didn’t expect that, like, at all. Who 's it?” 

You sit up and take a look at him before speaking up. 

“Will you promise me not to judge?” you ask.

“I’d never, promise,” he says and shakes his head. 

“Uhm, it’s one of our friends. Her name’s,” you exhale, “Mj.” You immediately look away when her name leaves your mouth and squint your eyes, scared of Peter’s reaction. 

“I- Mj?” he asks, trying to make sure that he heard you right. You turn your head to him and nod, biting the inner side of your cheek, a habit you get every time you are nervous in a situation. He quickly lowers his head low, scared you would notice the tears filling his eyes at the mention of his and your best friend. 

These past days, he did notice your gaze resting on him and it gave him hope. Hope that maybe, just maybe, you felt the same towards him. But every time he would meet your longing stares and dreamy expression, Mj was next to him. So you didn’t look at him, you were looking at Mj this whole time. And Mj was only hanging out with Peter so often last week, because he asked her if she could help him, help him to ask you out. All the struggle to think about what you are interested in for nothing. 

“Yes? You’re- you’re not mad right? I mean, you like her a-” you get cut off by him.

“I’m not mad. And uhm...how did you find out?” he asks now, directly looking into your eyes. Your cheeks redden and you exhale before explaining. 

“Uhm, y’know how Mj and you have been hanging out a lot together, lately?” He nods. “Well, I thought you were the one I had a crush on because I got mad so fast...turns out it was her the whole time.” You feel him shift next to you and sit up straight, inhaling. 

“Uh-” His voice cracks and he coughs. “You..you don’t like me? As in, more than a friend?” You shake your head and sigh again. 

“No. Like I said; it was Mj this whole time, but I thought it was you because…, you trail off and look up at the ceiling as another rush of embarrassment runs through you. 

“Because?” 

“I did like you for a long time in 7th grade, but then when we met Mj and she started to hang out with us, with you, I guess I didn’t really think about how I lost feelings for you, and developed some for her.” 

“Okay, so what exactly do you want to do now? Do you- do you want to confess? I don’t kno-”

“Ughhhh, why’s life so complicated?” You let yourself fall back, back pressed against your bed and with your hands covering your teary eyes. Peter takes your hands and makes you open your eyes, looking up at him. He caresses his thumb over your palm and gives you a smile. 

“Do you want to confess to her? Like, tell her you’re..?” He stops and frowns.

“Bi? I mean, at least I think I’m bi...I’m still new to this, but I guess that’s it, I still have time to figure it out..so.” You shrug and sit up again. You are not wrong. You still had time to figure this all out, and at the moment, that was the label you felt comfortable with. You liked Peter, and then Mj. 

“Yeah, that. Do you want to tell her first and see how she reacts? I mean, you should feel comfortable doing that, so if you don’t, it’s ok. But it’d be better if you did- not that I’m pressuring you or anything. I really want you to feel comf-” You let out a breathy laugh as you feel your cheeks heat up again.

 You loved how much he cared about you, one of the reasons why you  thought about telling him first, before anyone else. He always wanted to make sure all his friends and important people, to him, were safe and felt comfortable with telling him important things. Like right now, he’s thankful that you trusted him enough to talk about this. 

“Peter, breath! It’s okay, really, I’m comfortable right now.” He nods and lets go of your hand again. 

“Thank you,” you look at him through your lashes and catch a smile from him. 

“Always. But what are you gonna do? Do you- do you want to tell your parents first?” 

“I don’t know. I just want to think about everything at first, and then later on tell someone else, y’know? Not tryna rush this or anything.” 

“Yeah, I get that.” 

For the rest of the day, you were thinking about how to tell your parents and if you were right or not. Your mind kept telling you that you don’t like her. Maybe it was just thinking she was pretty? Maybe you were just longing for touch and because she was not touchy, you liked the idea of hugging her and being the only one to do so. But maybe, the thought that kept you up the whole night, you were faking it all and still liked Peter and your mind was playing tricks with you. Regardless, you just couldn’t close your eyes and rest for a second, the thought of your parents, the Avengers or any other of your friends reacting bad and being disgusted. 

But then again, if they really loved you, they wouldn’t think any less of you. And you also didn’t know their views on these type of things, so you could be completely wrong. 

→ → → → → → → →

》feedback is appreciated!《

#mj x reader #mcu mj #michelle jones x reader #michelle jones #teen!reader #michelle jones imagine #mj imagine #mcu imagine #avengers imagine #michelle jones oneshot

[myriadimagines]

Can you please do the haunting of the Bly Manor headcanon, what working in that house would include?

WORKING AT BLY MANOR:

You were hired by Henry to kind of have the same role as Hannah, and you worked under her

You just helped around wherever you were needed, particularly with Flora and Miles whilst Henry looked for an au pair

You very quickly became acquainted with Owen and Jamie, and seeing as you were all constantly seeing one another, it didn’t take long for you to be friend them

You absolutely adore Owen, Jamie and Hannah, and the four of you all have a great dynamic, which just makes your job more enjoyable

Owen teaching you out to cook, and helping him out in the kitchen when he needs an extra hand during dinner 

All of you worry about Owen sometimes in regards to his mum, so you all try to help him out the best you can

Jamie likes you, but she doesn’t trust anyone in her garden, so most of the times you’ll just sit and accompany her while she’s gardening

Although, after spending more time with you, she might have you pull out a weed or two under her very careful supervision

“Look, I just don’t want you messing up my flowers, alright?” “I won’t, Jamie. I promise.”

You love unwinding after a long day with all of them over some wine, or tea prepared by Hannah

When Rebecca comes to join you guys, you’re so excited to meet her

You love the others, or course, but it’s fun to introduce new people to your little family

Immediately taking Rebecca under your wing, and all of you showing her around the manor and helping her with Flora and Miles

You, Hannah, Owen and Jamie absolutely love to talk shit about Peter, especially when he starts coming around more often because of Rebecca

All of you exchanging looks whenever he enters the room, and Jamie cracks you up whenever she pulls faces at him

Trying to warn Rebecca about Peter, because you all know she deserves better

Being horrified when Rebecca’s body is found, because even if she became more distant because of Peter, she was still part of your family

When Dani is hired and arrives at Bly Manor, you’re a little worried for her 

After what happened with Rebecca, you can’t help but view Bly Manor in a new light

But you absolutely love Dani’s enthusiastic energy, and you think her accent is the funniest

You, Hannah and Owen love talking about how there’s an obvious attraction between Jamie and Dani

“They would make such an adorable couple, don’t you guys think?” “We shouldn’t gossip about th-” “Oh, come on, Hannah, don’t you think they’re cute?” “Well, I suppose they are.”

Alternatively, you and Jamie love teasing Hannah about her crush on Owen

The two of you have been playing matchmaker for almost your whole time at Bly to try and get Owen and Hannah together

The five of you watching Flora and Miles’ story time performances together and cheering them on

When things at Bly start getting threatening and paranormal, you’re all very protective of one another

You care so much about your friends and you’d do whatever you can to protect them, because you know they’d do the same for you

You’re also all very protective of the kids, because even if they have their odd moments, they’re good kids who have been through so much

When you learn about the truth about Bly Manor, and Hannah, you’re heartbroken

Keeping Hannah alive by talking about memories with her, especially with Owen

All of you comforting one another after what you’ve been through, and even when you all go your separate ways, they all have a special place in your heart, and you’ll all always care about one another

tag list: @musicallisto / @igotissuesmister

#the haunting imagine #thobm imagine #the haunting #the haunting headcanon #thobm #thobm headcanon #imagine #imagines #reader insert #headcanon #headcanons #anonymous

[enmy-writes]

Baby Avenger

Summary: (Y/N) is one of the youngest avenger members and some government officials repeatedly let her know of “her position.” So, she lets them know exactly what her position is.

Word Count: 2100

Fandom: MCU Avengers

Pairing: Avengers x Reader

Genre: Fluff, soft, slight angst and sadness, & family love.

Rated: 18+

Content Warnings: profanity, death, abandonment, bullying, this is my first ever post of any fanfiction ever so it’s probably bad

**** This is my first ever imagine that I have ever finished and published. Please give me feedback and let me know what else I should write! I’m very excited and nervous so please let me know if you enjoyed this :) I’m thinking of making this Y/N character into a little “Baby Avenger” one-shot series, so let me know your thoughts ****

 _____________________________________________________________

Baby Avenger.

Baby Avenger.

Baby. Avenger.

 In her head, her stomping can be heard throughout the whole Compound and all of its residents and guests can hear her anger. They know she’s going right to the meeting room; not the team meeting room, but the meeting room they use when they have special guests in for a meeting.

The new government officials who are now “in charge” of the Avengers since The Snap Part 2 were in for the day to go over the general plans that the Avengers have been coming up with. They’re nicer than those in charge of the group from the Accords, but in no way were they nice to majority of the group as a whole.

(Y/N) (L/N) happens to be the second to youngest member on the team coming in at an age of 18, second only to her best friend Peter Parker

(Y/N) is an orphan, the typical origin story of any superhero. Her parents spent their last minutes pushing her out of their burning house in rural Pennsylvania. Actually, it was her father who got her out of the flames and by their fishpond 100 meters from the house. Her mother was inside, trapped under a steal beam in the basement.

(Y/N)’s mother was a scientist who worked in secret in a little band of scientists who tried to accomplish their own small victories in testing the alterations and limits of humans. The goal of these scientists is to stay out of sight of the CIA, FBI, S.H.I.E.L.D., and other government agencies. Most of them are left alone and those who get found are either immediately sent to a high security prison or recruited to continue their experiments for a certain country/agency.

(Y/N)’s mother decided to give herself her treatment she was working on instead of potentially kidnapping someone in the everyone-knows-everything kind of town that they had been living in. Her experiment and life studies were all in trying to find a way to unlock the rest of the human brain so that more than that small percentage is being used at a time. It has been hypothesized that humans could do a lot if their brains just used itself more.

The only problem is when she gave the treatment to herself, she was unknowingly pregnant, and the treatment attached onto that small lifeform instead of her own. She created a super baby.

No one knew the exact answer to what is on the other side of that tunnel of science. No one knew what opening the mind could do, there were only theories to support ideas. Plenty of scientific evidence, but it meant nothing with no legit proof.

Well, turns out that those on the team of “you will gain the ability to read minds and shit unlike any human” were the correct guessers.

(Y/N) can read others’ minds, move things with her mind, slow down time in her mind to be able to successfully breakdown a situation and perform the best possible reaction to anything that comes her way. Oh, and the color spectrum is broader for her, allowing her to see a significantly more amount of colors than a normal human (including seeing the aura’s and heat that people give off. Very useful in the few missions she goes on.).

But her parents are dead.

After setting small (Y/N) down, her father ran back in to save the love of his life. Or, well, that’s what the towns’ people say to romanticize the situation. A brave man trying to save his family.

In the end, her father had shaken his head, laughing at the moment like a mad man with tears running down his face. He pulled (Y/N) in for the tightest hug that he had ever given the girl—which is tight considering how close the two really were. They were just like two peas in a pod, the light of each other’s lives, basically soulmates.

But love makes you do crazy things.

“You listen to me, (Y/N).” He gripped her face in a painful grip, cheeks sure to be bruised later. “I will always love you. Don’t doubt that, baby girl, okay? I love you so so so so much” By this time, tears are pouring off his face, the neon flames coming from the house reflecting off his wet face. “Mommy… mommy just needs me now, baby. I need mommy, too. We love you so much.”

It had confused her, his words. Nothing could prepare her to watch her father run back into the house, leaving her by the pond with nothing but a small bag of little family things like pictures, little stupid gifts, and a notebook she had stolen from her mom’s bookshelf one day.

Her mother’s grandfather had been friends with Howard Stark, both science men having been in the same circle of famous inventors since before WWII. While neither her mother nor father personally knew his son, Tony, he was still listed as the godfather to the child. With no close friends allowed in their secret circle, old bonds and pacts that her grandfather had with the older Stark led to a blind trust in the man.

Tony Stark had agreed to be the godfather during a one-week bender in his 30s, and when he was yelled at about it, he chose to just keep it there because “the chances of this happening is very slim.”

But here we are, Baby Avenger.

The officials who are here now actually were the same people that used to do check-ins and such with them pre-Accords, so they knew the team better than any government official save for the rare union that the team members may have with government officials. (Y/N) randomly has one with the Queen of England (she did a favor for Her Majesty once, and now they have tea every third Thursday of every month).

They knew that Tony suffered from panic attacks, and they knew Steve was going through a never ending loop of an existential crisis, and that Bucky will most likely always be having an identity crisis, and that Sam cries to sleep a lot around a certain time of year that renders him almost useless in his sleep deprived state he puts himself into. They know EVERYTHING vulnerable about the team.

So, that means they know how when she first got to the team and to Tony that she wouldn’t speak to anyone unless absolutely necessary. It took her almost a year to be able to speak more than a sentence to every person she was around. No one was too upset, though, Tony was trying to figure out how to save himself and rebrand his whole legacy and the Avengers weren’t really a family family yet like they are now. (Y/N)’s shyness made it much easier on the adults to figure out their stressful situations.

The officials, though, never got why she wouldn’t speak to them. They actually pushed her progress back more and more with taunts and comments such as “Oh, the baby can’t speak?” or a “Get your phone out! She’s about to say her first words!” every time she did go to say something.

Tony soon got fed up with it and filed a lawsuit against them which threatened their agency enough to pull them out and let a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent be a liaison for them. After their presence was rid of, (Y/N) grew exponentially with her new family. She was still home schooled, but now she had Peter Parker as a friend and world geniuses as her teachers. She was an only child, but now she’s a big sister to Morgan and has plenty of people on the team that are dubbed her siblings (since they don’t act their age majority of the time to be considered aunts and uncles).

While she’s trained to fight, (Y/N) doesn’t go out on the field much unless they need her brain or her extended vision. She likes to remain behind the computer screen and help that way. She’s invented a way to make prosthetics like Bucky’s become more available to the general public and has started a school/home that’s three miles from the Compound for orphaned kids, mutants, super kids, and those who aren’t accepted where they come from.

In conclusion, (Y/N) is 18 and not useless in any way, shape, or form.

So why, why, do these absolute short dick idiots decide that they can come into here, her home, and push her around like she hasn’t contributed more to the Earth and society in the short 18 years than their middle-aged asses?

Eyes narrowed and seeing red, she stomps her way down the last hall, shoving herself into the door of the meeting room and throwing it open.

The team stays unfazed, knowing she’d show up pissed at some point. The officials, though, jump in their seat and turn to look at her.

It wasn’t the biggest meeting, the original Avengers plus Bucky, Sam, and Wanda sit around the table. Though, Rocket and Groot are here sitting along the back wall, looking bored as hell. Thor must have drug them along.

Fists clenched, (Y/N) narrows her eyes more. She’s been here since the first attack. Sure, she didn’t fight since she was like, 8 or so, but she was in charge of her man-behind-the-computer work. She’s been a part of the team since the beginning, and these assholes are too big of pricks to acknowledge that.

That’s what’s pissing the girl off. This could have been a meeting for every one of the fighters of the team, which she wouldn’t go to because that’s not her role. This meeting, though, was scheduled as “Originals plus the newly appointed leaders only.” She’s an original.

SHE IS AN ORIGINAL.

SHE. IS. AN. OG.

AND YET, they remained in telling her she wasn’t invited because “The Baby Avenger doesn’t need to join big kid conversation.”

She locked eyes with her adopted father and her best friend, aka Peter Parker, aka the only reason she knew this meeting was still being held.

Poor, lovely Peter. He grew confused when his best friend wasn’t sitting in between Mr. Stark and him for the meeting, especially when the officials referred to the meeting as they did. He was just there to take notes for Mr. Stark, not that the man wouldn’t remember it all. Pepper thought it’d be a good idea if Tony had written evidence to anything said in these meetings so that he wouldn’t be pouring statements out of his ass without proof, and poor, lovely Peter got elected to take such notes.

When he noticed you weren’t there, he had sent you a text asking where you were and that your drink that he brought you was right next to him.

“(Y/N)! It is so great to see you, my wonderful flower.” Thick arms wrapped around her as a golden man squeezed her tight to him. Thor and (Y/N) had a special relationship. They’re always close and do the most innocent of tasks together like flower crowns, step-by-step painting classes, and making those Tik Tok crocheted blankets made with that big yarn. He even had taken her to Asgard (back when it was a planet) for a royal ball where she was the guest of honor. They’re just soft together.

Though, rage blocked that softness that normally occurs between the two. Pushing off of him, she points her finger at the men in the front. The officials look like they’ve seen the devil and all of Hell and (Y/N) can see the fear pouring off of them.

“Let’s get this clear,” she says as she slowly stalks her way up to them. “I am an Avenger. I am an original Avenger. I know about 3,000 ways to kill you in this room at this very moment with anything. I drink tea with the fucking Queen on Thursdays, and I’ve created a better orphanage/school system in 2 years than this country has in the 250 years it’s been around. Don’t you EVER call me a fucking baby again, you fucking hear me?”

By this point, she’s right up in their faces, her glare unwavering and them sweating. The silence in the room was great and seemed to go on forever. The team held their breaths, some trying not to laugh and some scared of backlash that might be trust upon the girl.

With one last eye narrow (you could blindfold her with toothpicks at this point), she whips around and walks back to Thor, placing herself sideways on his lap and relaxing into his hold. Peter passes her (Drink Order) down the table, and (Y/N) takes it.

Clint, Bucky, and Sam try and hide their laughter when the meeting starts again as they look at their long-time teammate cradled and curled up in Thor’s arms, head on his shoulder and under his chin as she sips her drink with an angry look in her eyes and a pout on her face.

All wrapped up like a baby.

#the avengers #avengers #avengers x reader #avengers x fem!reader #mcu #mcu imagine #tony stark #peter #peter parker #iron man #spiderman #steve rogers #thor odinson #captain america #sam wilson #the falcon #bucky barnes #winter soldier #x reader #my mcu imagine enmy-writes

[buckthegrump]

IBTHNTTTY - 11

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Y/n hates Bucky Barnes. Absolutely loathes him what makes it worse is that she has to share her office with him. Now with a promotion on the horizon she has to find a way to work with him and not against him.

Word Count: 1453

Warnings: swears, angst, a bad date, minor violence,

A/n: well it couldn’t last forever could it

Sunday morning, the fever broke, and Y/n was able to keep food down. Bucky stuck around until noon before she forced him out of the apartment. She didn’t like that he’d seen her in such a vulnerable state, it gave him too much power in their relationship, and Y/n was all about balance.

However, she did thank him, and she would thank him again when she saw him at work. But today was Sunday, and she had half a day of her weekend left. Did she spend that time relaxing and enjoying what little was left of her weekend? No. She was working on her proposal for the project she was working on with Bucky. 

Monday came and went, and Y/n did thank Bucky and apologized again. Bucky claimed that he wasn’t bothered by the change in plans, said otherwise he’d have to spend that time with his friends, and they were pissing him off. Y/n didn’t believe him, but she probably would have ended up in the hospital for dehydration had he not been there.

* * *

“Hey, boss?” Peter stuck his head in the doorway.

“Come on in, Peter.” Y/n turned her attention away from the computer and looked at the boy. “What’s up?”

“So -” he said slowly.

“You found another job, didn’t you?”

Peter grimaced then nodded. “Yeah -” Y/n sighed, “But I have a friend, her name is Michelle, and she loves books, and I told her that there would be a job opening soon. So I have her resume and cover letter here ready for you -”

While Peter was running at a million miles an hour, Bucky had walked over to his desk. 

“And she’s a really hard worker, and I think you’d really like her!”

“Peter,” Y/n cut him off, “hand me her stuff, and I’ll give her a call.”

Despite not meaning right at that second, Peter rushed back to his desk and returned in a flash. Deciding not to make fun of him, she simply thanked him.

“So, where’s your new job?”

Peter rocked onto his toes, his smile widened to an almost creepy degree. “Stark industries! I don’t know what happened, but I got a call a few days ago to go in for an interview. I thought I was gonna get someone from HR but the Tony Stark.”

A smile slowly appeared on Y/n’s face, “Well, I can’t exactly be upset that you’re following your dream, can I?”

She was slightly surprised when Peter threw his arms around her, but she hugged him back nonetheless.

“But I don’t start there until the first of November,” Peter said as he pulled away, “So I am still yours until then.”

“Well then, go get me a dozen doughnuts,” she said, completely teasing.

But before she could remind him that she was joking, he was out the door.

“And you say I abuse my power,” Bucky muttered.

Y/n smiled at him while flipping him the bird.

* * *

Y/n had only been on a few dates with Brock, and while he was a nice enough dude, she got an odd vibe from him. She was fully aware that she didn’t have any real experience with her own relationships. But her intuition was the one thing that had never let her down.

She sat down for her most recent date with Brock, instantly there was a pit in her stomach. And as Brock continued to talk, she retreated deeper and deeper inside herself. There was this overwhelming sense that if she didn’t get out of there soon, she never would. 

But Brock was talking about himself nonstop, about his work and how he was the best at his job, and how he was a shoo-in for a promotion coming up. He never once stopped talking about himself, nor did it even cross his mind to ask her anything about her day. Or week. Now that she was thinking about it, he never went out of his way to ask her a question about herself.

And she had still liked him? He had sold himself so well and been so charming that she hadn’t realized that he didn’t care at all about what was going on in her life. So obviously, he was a serial killer. Ok, that might be an overreaction, but she’d listen to too many true crime podcasts to be fooled by this clown.

At one point during the meal, she excused herself to the bathroom. Leaving early crossed her mind. Just slipping out while she was on her way to the bathroom, she couldn’t bring herself to do it because of the way she was raised. Oh, but she should have.

But she didn’t. So, she was less than surprised when Brock grabbed her. He spun her around and pressed her up against the wall. His breath assaulted her nostrils, making her gag a little. He had a predatory smile on his face as he looked at her.

“What are you doing?” The breath she let out was shaky, and her voice broke.

“Don’t play that game,” he said smugly, “I know you wanted me to follow you back here. I know that you want this.”

His fingers ran down her cheek as if he was caressing a lover. Slipping her hand into her bag, she hadn’t trusted Brock enough to leave at the table, she found her pepper spray quickly. And was even quicker about pulling it out and spraying Brock directly in the face.

Putting all the force she could behind it, she shoved him away from her. He stumbled backward and fell to the floor. Not giving him a second glance, she rushed away from him.

Tripping over her own feet, she finally made it out of the restaurant and onto the sidewalk. She had been too preoccupied to even think about the bill or how she might’ve looked crazy as she rushed out of the building.

Y/n walked down the street in a daze. 

She hadn’t realized that she was crying until she reached up to scratch her face. 

“Get it together, Y/n,” she whispered.

Her phone started ringing. She sent up a silent prayer, but she didn’t know what she was praying for. The name that lit up her screen was Bucky. For some reason, probably her illogical brain, which told her to just ignore what’d just happened to her, she swallowed her tears and answered the phone.

“Hello?” She willed her voice to not crack.

“Hey, I had a question about what you wanted to do about the cover design of that book, is now an ok time?” He paused for a millisecond. “Oh shit, you had a date tonight. I’m sorry -”

“Not, it’s fine,” she said, and her voice betrayed her. You couldn’t keep it together for a minute?

“Y/n, what’s wrong?”

Now that her mask had melted away, she started crying again. The answer that came out of her was incomplete and tearful.

“Send me your location, I’m coming to get you,” he said.

“Binky -” she hadn’t meant to call him that. It just slipped out.

“Don’t argue with me.” She didn’t. “Did you want me to stay on the phone with you?”

“Mmhmm,” she said. After sharing her location, she put the phone back to her hear and simply listened to the background noise of him moving around.

Neither of them spoke. She stood there next to a street lamp, half-listening to Bucky, half paying attention to what was going on around her. 

A few minutes later, Bucky pulled up to the sidewalk.

Y/n didn’t expect Bucky to get out of his car. But he parked next to the sidewalk, illegally, and got out of his car. Y/n hung up the phone and put it back in her purse. Rushing around the car, he met her on the curb.

“Are you ok?” He placed his left hand on her arm while his right cupped her cheek and wiped her tears away. She nodded. “Sunflower -”

“I’m fine,” she insisted.

“Was it that douche you were on the date with?” Her silence seemed to be answer enough for him. “I’ll kill him.”

Y/n’s hand went to Bucky’s hand that was on her face. “No, will you just - will you take me home?”

Bucky pulled her into a hug and wrapped his arms around her shoulder. She squeezed his waist, not really wanting to let go.

“Of course,” he answered.

But now she was a little regretful that she’d even asked the question. Purely because she could’ve stayed in his arms a lot longer. His arms felt safe, he felt safe. And that was a scary feeling.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes au

[iridescenthor]

king & queen

Pairing; Peter Parker x Reader

Time Frame; Homecoming

Summary; You worry for Peter, more times than not. When he learns this he pulls you away from homework for the night and takes you on a swing around the city.

Warnings; strong language

an:// First fic on this account and first Peter fic ever lol kinda scared. I do write for multiple fandoms and requests are open!! For Marvel I write for Peter, Tony, Loki, and I’m trying to ease into writing for Thor but I can’t get his personality down good so it’s a work in progress :( I also will write for BTS, all Harry Potter characters, some 70/80s movies and more - feel free to send in an ask if you’re wondering if I write for someone specific. Thank you :)

School had been absolutely kicking your ass lately. Homework upon homework was being assigned in almost every class, and on top of that multiple quarter tests coming up that you really needed to study for considering the material being taught lately was just completely skimming right over the top of your mind.

Normally school came easily to you. You prided yourself in your ambition and intelligence, school had never been a problem for you. Now it was different, now you knew where your boyfriend actually ran off to every night. When he had first told you what the Stark Internship was, you had been ecstatic. Peter was Spider-Man? That’s amazing! It was something he genuinely loved doing and if anything it made you fall in love with him even more after learning he spent his days protecting the city for nothing in return. However it didn’t talk long for the anxiety to kick in.

Now instead of having the weary feeling in the back of your head that he was doing something behind your back, you had an overwhelming feeling of nausea at the thought that one of these nights he would never make it back to Aunt May - to you - safely.

Worrying for his safety was the main cause of your procrastination in completely work efficiently lately. It would never stop as long as you were with him, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t begin to work on at least keeping up your grades while waiting for him to text you that he was home safe for the night. 

So, like you had been for the past couple of weeks since he filled you in on his secret identity, you tried to push your anxieties out of your mind and focus on the tower of work in front of you waiting to be completed. Sitting there like a lovesick teenager with your mind on your boy all night was not going to help you pass your classes.

An hour passed, and soon that slipped into two hours. You had managed to complete most of the work assigned but definitely not to the best of your ability. It was already half past midnight, and no text from Peter. You were completely aware that maybe he got caught up on the way home and someone needed help but it didn’t stop you from worrying. He’d usually texted by now, but so far there was nothing. You gave up on the homework for the rest of the night - opting to finish some during study hall the next day or just full-out leaving it all to do tomorrow night.

After packing away the remaining school materials into your bag, you changed into some comfortable sleeping shorts and one of Peter’s oversized long-sleeve shirts. Turning the lights off and slipping under the covers of your bed was the easy part, but no matter how many times you tossed and turned you couldn’t fall asleep without knowing if Peter was sleeping soundly in his bed or bleeding out in an alley on the other side of the city.

It was one on the dot when a soft tapping filled the burning silence of your room. You turned from facing your closet and spotted a crouched figure on your fire-escape. Your heart lunged happily when you recognized the familiar blue and red of the suit Tony stark made for him. You yanked the covers off your body and threw your legs over the edge of your bed, running to open the window as quickly and quietly as you could. Once it was open, you didn’t let even let him reach up to pull off his mask before you were throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him close to you. “I was so worried.” You whispered, pressing a few kisses to his collarbone.

He chuckled cutely, climbing in the window to hug you closer to him. “I’m sorry I showed up without texting you first, I forgot my phone at home. I just wanted to see you.”

You smiled, pulling away a little to grab the hem of his mask and pull it gently over his head. Finally you were able to look him in the eyes, and the realization that he returned to you safe once again was enough to immediately calm your nerves. He smiled at you, leaning down to press a short kiss on your lips.

An idea seemed to come to his head as he pulled away excitedly. “Hey, say neither of us were tired and we both wanted to get a little adrenaline rush before sleeping. Would you be up to it?”

You grinned, immediately pulling away to slip on some moccasins. “Are you offering what I think you are?” He nodded cheekily, turning to climb out the window once more. Once he was crouched on the railing of the fire-escape, he reached his hand out to you.

“Wanna go for a swing?” He proposed formally, a giddy grin pulling at his lips as you accepted his hand. He helped you out onto the balcony, before pulling you up to stand next to him on the thin railing. You looked down below, already feeling the excitement building in you at the sight of the ground twenty stories below you, as he helped steady you when a particularly strong gust of wind blew past.

He looked at you, adoration pooling in his eyes as he watched you hold onto the supports of the stairs that continued up the side apartment building. “Ready?” His left arm wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you into his body and your response was immediate - not a hint of hesitation apparent. You trusted him, you trusted him with everything in you. You released the support beams and wrapped your arms tightly around his neck.

You pressed your nose affectionately to his cheek and smiled at the red tint building on his face - whether it was from the wind or the close proximity of your bodies you were unsure. “Ready.” You confirmed in a whisper. A grin spread across his face like wildfire, and in one swift movement he yanked the mask over his head, hoisted you up so your legs were wrapped tightly around his waist, and jumped from the railing. Before you both were even halfway to the ground he shot out a web and latched onto the railing of a balcony on another building.

He swung you both forward, releasing the web and shooting out another one whenever need be. Every time your bodies dropped your stomach would squeeze and twist uncomfortably but the smile never left your lips. You moved your head so you were looking back over Peter’s shoulder as he swung, and immediately felt the air leave your lungs. This was what Peter saw every night? It was beautiful to say the absolute least. The lights from the city were all different colors and they were currently all blurring together from the speed of his swings.

You watched the cars driving on the street below and a laugh slipped from your lips. Peter reacted by squeezing your waist tightly with the arm holding you to him as he managed to finally stop you both on the rooftop of one of the fancy hotels in the city. He landed with a soft thud and moved a few steps away from the edge. You unwrapped your legs from around him, placing your feet on the gravel of the rooftop yet neither of you let go of each other. He pulled his mask off once more and laughed happily, pressing his nose to skin behind your ear, breathing in deeply. “How was it?”

With your chin propped up on his shoulder, you squeezed your arms around his neck in a tighter hug. “Amazing. So amazing.”

He pressed a couple slow kisses down your neck until his forehead was resting on your shoulder. “I love you so much.”

A small laugh escaped your lips as you pulled away to look him in the eyes. You unwrapped your arms from his neck, opting to cup his cheeks in your hands as you spoke with unwavering adoration. “I love you too. So much more than you’ll ever know.” You leaned in, locking his lips with your own in a slow kiss. “I was so worried about you today. It’s the longest you’ve gone on patrol.” You mumbled against his lips.

“I’m sorry baby, I got caught up. Quite a few robberies for just one night, it was kinda weird.” He explained softly, burying his face in the crook of your neck again.

“It’s alright lovely.” You whispered back, tracing a circle on the back of his neck. “I just want you safe, that’s all.” You sat there for a while longer just embracing each other as the wind picked up. You shivered when you felt it whip at your bare legs. He felt you shake and immediately pulled away with a frown.

“Oh shit babe, you can’t sit out here with just shorts on - why didn’t you say you were cold?” He scolded gently, pulling you with him to the edge of the building.

“No,” You whined, trying to tug out of his grip. “I want to keep hugging you. You’re all warm and you smell good.” A blush rose up on his cheeks once more and a small breathy laugh escaped his lips. He tried to pull on the mask before you noticed his reddening face, but you would have been able to see how flustered he was from a mile away.

Once he was standing on the edge he pulled you flush against him, grabbing at your wrists and wrapping your arms back around his neck. “Cuddle?” He suggested, voice muffled by the fabric of his mask. “I can call May and ask if I could sleep over yours tonight?” You let out a squeak of excitement and nodded vigorously, jumping up to wrap your legs back around his waist with his help.

His left arm wrapped securely around you once more as he got ready to jump. “Sounds like a plan then.” He confirmed, and even with his mask covering the grin on his lips, you could still here the excitement coating his voice. 

#peter parker #spiderman #spiderman homecoming #spiderman far from home #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #tony stark #peter parker fluff #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson imagine #loki laufeyson x reader #thor x reader #thor #thor imagine #tony stark x reader #mcu #tony stark imagine #marvel #avengers #avengers imagine

[peterbabytt]

do you think fondly of me? // starker

synopsis: tony sees peter in public after years of not seeing one another

words: 1,684

warnings: light swearing, sad but with a happy ending,

!!everyone featured in this fanfiction is 18+ unless specifically stated otherwise!!

i hope you enjoy 💓 feedback/constructive criticism is and always will be accepted, but hate will always be blocked

(by proceeding, you understand and accept the warnings previously provided)

“Penny?” Time froze the very instant the name slipped through the air. Through the ribcage, the heart drummed its accelerando beat, drowning the ears in a nervous cadence. The name alone was enough to strike a fire in the gut, but the man who spoke? The fire swarmed up the walls of the belly and into the chest at the familiarity of the voice that rang through the atmosphere, smoke filling the lungs enough to cough out a scoff, turn on the heel and face none other than Tony Stark himself. Because of-fucking-course. “Oh, my god, it’s so good to see you,” He spoke with a genuine smile on his face. Peter just smiled, cocking his head to the side as ire danced through his eyes and on the curve and bow of his lips.

“Hmm, wish I could say the same,” Peter spat, to which Tony had the audacity to appear shocked. At what, Peter couldn’t tell—it could have been the snarky remark that took the Stark by surprise, or the droop in his tone over the years thanks to the regular doses of testosterone. Peter let the phoney smile slip away, eyes cold. “What are you doing here?”

“In public, you mean?” he replied, arms outstretched by his waist as he glanced around. “I came out to get a cuppa coffee, but… when I saw you, I…” Peter scoffed once again, digging into his pocket and retrieving his phone as he turned to walk away.

“Hey!” Tony called after him, following behind him for a few paces. “Hey, where’re you going?”

“Are you standing over there?” Peter directed his attention to the end of the block, just a few stores down. Tony looked confused.

“No.” Obviously.

“Then that’s where I’m going.” He turned on a dime.

“Oh, come on, don’t be like that.”

“And why shouldn’t I be?”

“It’s been three years—” Peter’s eyebrows nearly met his hairline.

“I don’t care how long it’s been! You left me, remember?”

“Believe me, I remember, but can you at least give me a chance to explain myself?”

“Why should I care about anything you have to say to me now when you didn’t even listen to me when it mattered the most?”

“Because I know you, Pen. I know you like explanations, I know you don’t like to be left in the dark—I know you.”

“You don’t know me. You knew Penny. I’m not Penny.” When Tony said nothing more, Peter took the time to send his S.O.S. to MJ and Ned, who shouldn’t be too far now—MJ’s apartment is only about a mile or two away. But Tony, being Tony, didn’t like the silence that buzzed between the two.

“So… what should I call you?” Peter forced his laugh then, squinting at him with a grin.

“Cute.”

“Look, I… I’m sorry, I didn’t want—“

“I don’t get you!” The younger interrupted. “You held my hand with such pride when I was a woman... but when I asked you to call me Peter... you looked at me with such disgust—such disappointment and hatred.”

“Is that how you saw it? Disappointment? Disgust?” Tony looked hurt. “Pen, I—“

“You broke me. You single handedly shattered my heart into a billion unfixable pieces...” Peter felt his eyes beginning to tear at the edges, but he bit back what he could. A car horn honking pulled him from his rage—MJ and Ned in her Jeep to pick him up. “‘Sorry’,” he scoffed, shook his head, then turned to walk to the curb where his friends were waiting.

“Penny, wait, I—“

“Peter!” He shouted. “It’s Peter, not P-P...” he almost seemed afraid to say the name again. He hated the name. He turned, a grimace on his face, and reached for the car door.

“Peter... Peter, baby, wait!” Tony went after him, grabbed his hand, but Peter yanked it away. “I’m so sorry, Peter, I was an asshole to you and I know it, but please... let me make it up to you,” he said nothing as he stared coldly back into Tony’s eyes. “At least hear me out,” Pete bit the inside of his cheek in attempts to contain his anger, prevent the tears from spilling, and he trembled from head to toe. He glanced at his friends in the car, then spoke.

“You have 30 seconds.”

“Baby, please, that’s not—“

“29! 28! 27!—“

“I was an idiot!” Peter stopped counting. “I was an idiot...”

“Still are,” Tony gave a halfhearted smile.

“Very much so... you deserved so much better,” Peter opened the door then, lifting his leg to step into the car when—

“I was afraid!” Peter paused, yet again, then glanced over his shoulder in his general direction, but didn’t meet his gaze. Tony continued. “Peter, I loved Penny with every fibre of my being—I would have died for her. And when I met Peter... Penny didn’t stand a chance.”

“That literally made no sense,” MJ spoke. Tony wanted to glare at her, but his gaze was fixed on Peter.

“I was afraid of loving Peter more than Penny, and it seems selfish, but—Peter, please don’t go,”

“I’m done talking, Tony,”

“Then don’t talk.” Peter was sitting on the seat now, so close to closing the door, but Tony stood in the way. “Just… listen, please—I need you to hear this.” A silence hung in the air for a quick moment before—

“Pulling away in 3...” MJ began.

“5 minutes,” Tony pleaded.

“2...” Peter met Tony’s gaze and saw the desperation in his eyes.

The car door slammed shut and Tony watched as it drove slowly away. Peter, who had his hands buried in the sleeves of his sweater, one sleeved hand covering his mouth, was tapping his foot against the ground, a nervous tick Tony had remembered since the beginning, and refused to meet his gaze.

“Thank you,”

“You broke me.” Peter started, voice wavering just a tad. “You destroyed me—took away everything I cared about, everything I wanted in a relationship...”

“I know...” Peter caught his eyes then, dropping his arms to fold over his chest.

“No, I don’t think you do.” But the look Tony gave him, the look that won every time… Peter couldn’t convince himself that Tony didn’t know. “Start talking,”

“You mean the world and more to me, Pete,”

“Peter,” he corrected. “We are not friends—you call me ‘Peter.’”

“Peter...” he nodded, looked down and toed at the ground. “Would you like to grab a bite to eat first? Maybe a coffee, or a tea? We could sit down somewhere maybe a little more private,” Peter glared at him, eyes cold and furious. “Right...”

“Why did you leave me?” Peter asked. “I needed you—then more than ever before—and you left. Everyone I cared about was against me and I trusted you enough—out of everyone—to be there for me, and you turned against me, too,” he explained. “If it weren’t for MJ and Ned, I wouldn’t even be alive right now,”

“Peter—“

“Why did you leave?”

“I was afraid,”

“Oh, you were afraid?!”

“You didn’t let me finish...” Peter scoffed and tried to walk away again, but he only made it a few steps before he found himself turning around again to meet him. “Loving Penny was easy because it was traditional.”

“Are you fucking serious?!”

“I wasn’t afraid to love Penny, Peter!” He spoke over him. “Loving Penny was normal—no one could hurt us because we were just like everyone else. No one could come between Penny and me.” Peter looked confused. “When I held Penny’s hand as we walked down the sidewalk, when I wrapped my arm around Penny’s shoulders in a restaurant booth, when I kissed Penny goodbye before we parted—that was normal. No one questioned it. No one saw her and me as any different. But loving Peter?

“I would never be able to hold Peter’s hand as we walked down the sidewalk, I would never be able to wrap my arm around his shoulders in a restaurant booth, I would never be able to kiss his lips goodbye before we parted no matter how badly I wanted to, because him and I wouldn’t have been ‘normal.’ Him and I would have been in danger, because if they knew how head over heels in love I was with Peter—how much I absolutely adored you? They would have targeted you, and they would have hurt you and abused you to break me.” Peter didn’t bother to wipe away the tears that ran down his cheeks.

“Peter, baby, I can handle being a disappointment, being disowned and ridiculed and abused over loving a man—over loving you... but if they ever laid a hand on you? I couldn’t live with myself knowing that it was my fault you got hurt.” With a hesitant hand, Tony moved to cup Peter’s cheek and wipe away his tears, and if Peter ever asked him? Tony would easily admit that his heart swarmed with warmth when he didn’t pull away.

Peter let out a quiet sob and brought his hand up to grasp Tony’s tightly. The older placed a kiss to Peter’s forehead before pulling away, wiping at his own tears, this time, and untangling himself from Peter entirely. “I was wrong to do that to you.”

“Tony?”

“I was selfish and I thought I could protect you when I only made it worse,”

“Tony, baby, please, I know you didn’t—“

“I’m sorry,”

“It’s not your fault!”

“I’m so sorry,”

“No, come back!” His throat ached, but Tony wouldn’t listen. He just continued walking, wiping desperately at his eyes to dry his tears. So Peter ran to him. “Don’t you dare walk away from me,” Peter grabbed his hand, and that’s when Tony broke. “Look at me. Baby, look at me,” through tear clouded eyes, Tony’s eyes finally met Peter’s.

Without a single care or shame in the world, he kissed him with everything he had, and he held on tight. “Please don’t leave me again,” Peter whispered.

“I love you so much, Peter,” he kissed him again. “I never stopped.”

~~~~~

(in which Peter and Tony dated in high school, Peter came out as trans in high school, and Tony was afraid people would hurt Peter, so he broke it off. this fic is set after high school, as they are now adults and are seeing each other for the first time since their break up)

#starker #peter x tony #tony x peter #peter parker #tony stark #ned leeds #mj jones #high school sweethearts #male x male #break up #make up #fanfiction #my words #my work #peterbabytt #transgender Peter Parker

[yeeharley]

83 w Parkner pls🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

 83: Stay there. I’m coming to get you

The sheer angst potential that this prompt had is staggering :))) I’m surprised you trusted me with that kind of power.

word count: 1,523

warning(s): mild description of a panic attack, some very unsafe driving methods (please don’t drive like Harley does, kids)

⭒

Harley keeps his phone off of silent for one reason and one reason only, and that reason is Peter.

Peter, his dumbass boyfriend.

Peter, his dumbass vigilante boyfriend.

Peter, his absolutely stupid, self-sacrificing, heroic-guilt-complexed boyfriend.

If anybody had told him that this was going to be his life back when he’d been in grade school, he would’ve told them that they needed to go get tested for drugs, because God. That sentence is a sentence that he had never expected to hear come out of his mouth.

He’s going to have a conniption. An absolute conniption. An aneurysm. A panic attack. Something medical and dangerous and stress-induced.

Dear God. Please help him. Send him patience, strength, and the ability to keep himself from losing his absolute shit.

Harley has had to pick up Peter a total of five times. Two of those five times had been because he’d managed to get himself stuck across town and had run out of web fluid. One had been non-Spider-Man related (a party gone wrong; Harley would drive hours to get Peter out of millions of uncomfortable situations). 

And the last two had been results of the fact that Peter, however amazing and kind and brilliant he was, couldn’t seem to take care of himself for shit.

So. Yeah. Harley leaves his phone off of silent, because the risk of missing that one call when he’s needed is much too great and he’s not willing to play a game of chance that has Peter’s wellbeing on the other end of the scale.

He gets the call at three in the morning on a Wednesday. It wakes him up effectively- Peter’s ringtone is the opening theme of Star Wars, and that’s an awful note to hear so early in the morning. Harley didn’t pick it.

It makes him very, very angry.

So it’s three in the morning. Dark. Stars are out, people are sleeping- Harley included. Cars are silent. New York is quiet. 

It’s really nice.

And the ringtone blares through the still air of his apartment, sending him flying three feet in the air in a desperate attempt to figure out where his phone is.

Harley blearily reaches out, groping blindly around on the bedside table until his hand lands on top of his phone and he’s able to pry his eyes open for long enough to see the name on the screen. It’s blurry, white against his dark background, and he slips his glasses onto his nose so that he can read it out correctly.

Peter’s name is spelled out across his screen, a single yellow heart at its beginning and end. 

Peter.

It takes a few swipes for Harley’s shaking thumb to hit the pick-up insignia, but he gets it eventually and holds his phone close to his ear, yawning out a sleepy ‘hey, baby’.

No response.

On the other end of the line, there’s the sound of labored breathing. Shuddering, short inhales and nearly-silent exhales. In, out. 

Harley’s never heard him like this before.

His blood runs cold, and suddenly, like he’s been doused in a bucket of ice water, Harley is painfully awake.

“Peter, hey” he murmurs, trying to tamp down the frantic beating of his heart. “Talk to me, honey. Gotta tell me what’s goin’ on.”

I’ll walk miles to get to you. I’ll get to you, I will, I promise. Please be okay. Please be okay.

Peter exhales again, this time with a quiet sob, and he sounds so sad that Harley almost starts crying. He’s one of those people who’s easy to read, and Harley’s the kind of guy who can read people really well.

Peter doesn’t cry very often. He doesn’t cry when he’s been shot, when he’s been stabbed, when he’s hurting so badly he can barely breathe.

But he’s crying now.

And that means something is very, very wrong.

What is he supposed to do?

“Alright,” he says, mind racing around every potential injury Peter could have that could be making him act like this. He’s barely breathing, too afraid to make a sound that could result in missing something, anything, because he doesn’t know what comes next.

Does he call Tony? Ask him to track Peter’s suit and find him?

Does he have the time to call Tony?

“Alright,” Harley murmurs again, this time slower and quieter as to keep Peter calm. “You’ve gotta tell me where you are, baby. I’m gonna help you, but you hafta tell me where you are.”

Silence.

Then, in a voice that just about breaks his heart, “Harls?”

He sounds so tired. Just... exhausted. Like he’s been carrying some sort of weight (and God, Harley knows how much weight Peter has resting on him) for so long that it’s finally broken him.

He can’t be broken.

Harley doesn’t know what he’ll do if he is.

“Yeah, Peter,” he sobs, hot tears welling up in the corners of his eyes. “It’s me, honey, it’s me. Please, tell me where you are. Please, Peter.”

A moment of quiet. All Harley can hear is breathing, and that keeps his pending anxiety attack at bay, because if Peter is breathing, he is alive.

He is alive.

“I’m- I’m at-” Another quiet sob, choked and cut off quickly. “I’m at the c-corner of Maple and- and- and B-Beaumont. In- in Queens.”

Queens. Maple and Beaumont. Harley memorizes the names, files them away in the front folder in his brain, and jumps out of bed like he’s been burned. Doesn’t bother with shoes, with normal clothes- just pulls a jacket on over his t-shirt, grabs his car keys off of the counter, and races out of his apartment.

He doesn’t think he’s ever moved faster.

“Alright, Peter,” he says, practically shouting into his phone. “I’m gonna hang up now so I can drive to where you are, okay, honey? Stay there. I’m coming to get you.”

He waits until Peter hums an affirmative before clicking the red button.

The line goes dead.

Harley drives in silence, foot pressing down harder and harder on the gas pedal of his Stark-bought car. He’s pushing speed limits. Probably breaking them.

He doesn’t really care, though.

Every second that he drives, every second he gets closer to the blinking red dot that is Peter’s location, he wishes he hadn’t hung up. Wishes he’d just kept the line open, even if it was just to make sure he was still breathing.

The fear that he’s going to get to that street corner and find nothing but a body grows steadily as he gets closer. Closer. Closer.

Please be okay, Harley thinks, pushing down even harder on the accelerator. Please. I don’t know what I’d do without you.

And the scary thing is, he really doesn’t.

He’s in love with Peter. Loves him with all of his heart.

A life without Peter Parker isn’t a life Harley wants to live.

With a harsh jerk of the wheel, Harley turns his car onto Maple and guns it all the way up the street, frantically trying to find Peter and praying to the God that his mother taught him about that he won’t be gone already. There’s a moment where his heart drops straight into the pit of his stomach, because he can’t see him.

He can’t see him.

Then, as he pulls forward just a little bit more, a hunched-over figure illuminated by one of the barely-lit streetlamps comes into view, and his heart sings.

Harley’s out of the car before he can blink, slamming the door and not even bothering to take the car out of drive (it’s only going to coast a few feet before it stops. He’s not worried). The pavement is cold and wet beneath his bare feet, but he doesn’t hesitate as he jogs across the street to where Peter is sitting on the curb and sweeps him up into his arms, wrapping him up like a baby and burying his face in Peter’s neck.

He can feel his pulse. His heartbeat.

Peter’s tears are cold against Harley’s skin. The feeling of his arms around his neck is so familiar, so beautifully mundane, that Harley starts crying again, too, and they’re both crying in the middle of an empty street before sunrise.

And it’s beautiful.

Harley pulls back slowly, still supporting most of Peter’s weight, and takes in the red-eyed, tear-stained face of his boyfriend, wiping tears of his own off of his cheeks. Peter sniffs, lip trembling, and squeezes Harley’s hand in a silent reassurance.

“Panic attack?” Harley asks gently, offering up a small smile.

Peter nods.

“Aw, baby.” It takes a bit of maneuvering to get him into the passenger seat. Harley strips out of his hoodie and pulls it over Peter’s head, fastens his seatbelt for him, presses a careful kiss to his temple.

“Thank you for coming, Harls,” Peter whispers. The end of the sentence is punctuated by a loud yawn, and as Harley puts the car into reverse to pull out of the tilted mess leaving it in drive had gotten them into, he smiles.

“You don’t ever hafta thank me, honey.”

#peter parker #harley keener #parkner #keenker #harleypeter #harley keener/peter parker #tw panic attack #fanfic #fanfiction #prompt #lyss tag #silver-bubbles' fanfic

[girlpornparadise]

When it Rains it Pours

Pairing: Esteban/f!Reader (There is a New World Somewhere - Maurice Compte)

Word Count: all ~2500 I know

Smut warning: IT'S SMUT! SMUTTY SMUTTY SMUT SMUT. If you want the specifics, ya just gotta read it.

Personal ramble: Ok, I haven't written fanfic in over 20 years people! But I'm absolutely parched and needed this in my life.

I blame @nicke0115 for posting that Ricky and Melinda clip I had totally forgotten about and putting mad "Maurice Compte in a motel room" thoughts in my head.

I also blame @damndamer0n for watching There is a New World Somewhere and prompting me to rewatch my favourite "look at me" scene, causing to melt in a puddle on my bedroom floor.

And I especially blame @pedropasscals for egging me on and trying to convince me I could write something.

My fragile ass is not accepting constructive criticism, but will take condescending pat's on the head of "there, there, you tried."

You walk into the diner and as the doors close behind you, the sound of rain is muffled. You sidle up to the counter and rest your bag on the empty stool to your right. Water squeezes out of it like a sponge and begins to drip onto the floor. You'd feel guilty about the mess if you yourself weren't exhausted and soaked through too.

The older waitress walks over and though unimpressed with the mess you've made, looks at you with a glimmer of pity. 

"What can I get ya?"

"Coffee, black."

You feel a slight rumble in your stomach, but you don't have the cash to do anything about it at the moment. This wasn't planned, you'd had to leave in a hurry. The coffee would have to do, and it would hopefully take the edge off the chill your soaked frame was feeling.

The kind stranger had let you off a half mile back at the fork, and you were forced to walk the remaining distance to the brightly lit diner. Though grateful for the ride, you cursed the unexpected downpour that caught you a few minutes after leaving the car.

You look up to your left and one stool over sits a man with dark hair and tanned skin. His features are strong and highlighted by his slightly greying facial hair. He sits with his hands wrapped around a steaming cup of coffee. They look warm. 

He looks over at you and sees your dripping hair and your grey t-shirt clinging to your shoulders like a wrinkly second skin. You cock a half hearted smile at him and start to look down when you shiver involuntarily. 

"Are you OK?" He asks. His expression is one of concern.

"I'm, I'm fine." You stumble, clearly lying. 

He stands up and unties the flannel shirt wrapped around his waist. "Here." He offers you the shirt. "You should put on something dry." 

You hesitate, but accept his offer and give him a small smile. "Thank you."

Gripping the shirt, you grab your waterlogged possessions and make your way to the washroom. You strip off your t-shirt and replace it with the red flannel, carefully buttoning it up to the top. It hangs down just to the ripped hem of your jean shorts that you try unsuccessfully to dry under the hand dryer. 

When you return to your seat the coffee is waiting with the surprising addition of a slice of warm apple pie. 

You open your mouth to comment on the mistake but the man whose shirt you were now wearing cuts you off.

"You look like you're having a bit of a day and I thought you could use something sweet."

You go to protest that he's already been too generous, but he nods towards the plate "Go on."

Another kind stranger.

You smile another thank you and wrap your hands around the coffee. As you take a sip, it warms its way down your throat and through your body. You start to feel like yourself again and begin to relax.

"Esteban" he introduces himself. You follow suit.

You can tell he has several questions, and who wouldn't want to know about a woman who looks like a beached mermaid that had found her way to a diner on the outskirts, but he's clearly been around and knows better than to pry.

So he keeps the conversation light and casual, choosing to talk mostly about himself. Not in the selfish way men feel entitled to, but in a way to gain your trust and put you at ease.

As he speaks you can't help but take in more of him. His eyes are dark brown and framed by long lashes, and when he smiles, his face softens, made younger by the dimples that play at the corners of his mouth. His voice is softer than you'd expect from someone who looked so serious when you had entered the diner. Although his hair is a bit messy, it's in that carefree way that takes more effort than it looks. It had the same deliberate casualness as the slightly too tight t-shirt that accentuates his arms. His appearance is something he obviously takes pride in. Despite sucking back the same mediocre diner coffee that you are, he's clearly careful with what he puts in his body to maintain such a sculpted, muscular frame.

Soon you've forgotten about the day's journey and you're laughing and encouraging his stories. The coffee disappears, then another cup. The pie slowly disappears as well though you find him so engaging that you keep forgetting it's there.

A couple of hours roll by and the conversation naturally peters out.

"Where are you headed?" He asks, with what seems to be genuine worry.

"I'm not really sure." You admit hesitantly.

You look down and realize you're still wearing his shirt. He notices you do it and can tell you're thinking about returning it. He shakes his head slightly to let you know he has no expectations of its return.

"I know a place." He says. "Let's get you somewhere dry."

He pays for his coffee as well as yours and the pie despite your gentle protest. He's already been too kind.

You follow him to his car and he opens the passenger side door for you. It's still raining, but it's much lighter now. You close the door as he rounds to his side. The faint aroma of stale cigarettes lingers, and it triggers a warm memory you can't quite place.

You drive in silence, not sure how to break it or if you even should. It's peaceful in the rain and you gaze out the window at the passing lights.

The drive is short and you pull into a nondescript motel parking lot. He parks and you both get out of the car. 

Fearing yourself to be presumptuous, you prepare to fumble with the words to express that you can't afford a room. He looks directly into your eyes and allays your fears with one simple word. 

"Come."

It wasn't a command, but you obey all the same.

His hand slips the key in the lock and he motions for you to enter as he opens the door. The place is a little worn, but clean. A few of his possessions are scattered throughout the room, but he clearly hasn't been there long. He strikes you as the type who isn't anywhere for very long.

He ditches his wallet and keys and flops down on the bed. You shiver slightly, still damp and make your way to the bathroom, clutching your bag.

You carefully remove the red flannel shirt and hang it on the back of the door. You feel a sense of relief and calm as you strip off your damp bra, jean shorts, and panties. You turn the knobs above the tub and shiver slightly as you wait for the water to warm. As you step into the shower and the heat hits you, you feel human again.

As much as you relish the comfort of the shower, you remember that you are a guest and cut it short. You towel off and carefully button the flannel shirt back up, missing the top button. You rummage through your bag, but everything is soaked through. You find the driest panties you can and slip them on. After running a comb through your hair and a quick check in the mirror, you pad barefoot back into the small room.

He's splayed comfortably across the bed, flicking at his phone and sipping a beer. Something cheap and local presumably. As you enter, his eyes rake across your body. He catches himself, and tries to act the gentleman by offering you a beer instead. 

You accept it as you sit down on the bed next to him, and you tuck your legs under you. You take a sip of the bland lager and sigh a little. He puts down his phone and softly studies you as you shift to get comfortable. 

You smile warmly with gratitude, and he smiles back. There are those dimples again. 

A few moments pass in silence and he offers to turn on the TV. He changes channels aimlessly and you both stare ahead and drink. Eventually, his breath lets out a light chuckle at something he's seen and you glance over at him. 

"How are you feeling?" He asks half politely, half curious. 

"Much better thanks."

The thought to ask you about yourself  again crosses his mind, but he decides that he shouldn't break the look of contentment on your face. Your smile has softened, and it has softened something inside of him. He turns away when he notices he's been staring a fraction of a second too long at your lips. He leans over to grab another beer.

His shifting weight on the bed disturbs your balance and you get up and wander to the window. The rain is lighter now, but still persistent and you trace a drop with your finger as it glides downwards.

"Not comfortable?" He asks as he takes in your silhouette against the window.

"Mostly comfortable." You say as a thought crosses your mind, your slight buzz making you feel bolder.

His eyebrow arches slightly at the unexpected reply. 

"But your shirt is kind of scratchy. It's slightly chaffing my nipples." You whisper coyly.

His eyes follow the words to your chest and he moistens his lips subconsciously.

You undo 2 more top buttons and shrug the flannel off your shoulders so that the shirt is hanging on your bent elbows, just grazing your back. You glance down at your now exposed breasts and back into his hungry eyes.

"Maybe you should kiss them better."

He puts down his drink, raises himself off the bed and crosses the small room in one swift motion. His hand is on the small of your back and the other one squeezes your breast gently. A gasp escapes your mouth. 

His eyes dart slightly as he looks into yours, seeking permission. Your pleading gaze matches your trembling lips and they're soon stilled by his wanting mouth. His tongue seeks yours and your arms go limp. As they do, the shirt falls to the floor, pooling at your feet. Your hands seek the back of his head, and you weave your fingers into his dark hair, pulling him closer, deepening his kiss.

His thumb ghosts over your nipple and a shudder courses through you. You grab at him, desperate for more, but he breaks your kiss and starts trailing his mouth, nipping and kissing down your jaw, your neck, your chest. His lips find your nipple and he sucks lightly. Your knees go weak and he presses his hand into your back more firmly to support your weight. A cry breaks from your throat and you can feel a hum in his chest and he savors your reaction.

He presses harder against your back and your hips thrust forward to meet his. You can feel his jeans against your thighs and his erection straining against the denim. You reach down to stroke against his girth and as you palm at the mound he lets out a low rumble. 

You press harder and his mouth finds yours again, trying to consume you. He glides his free hand up your inner thigh and his 2 fingers find your panties, damp now not only from the downpour but from the slick desire pooling between your legs. He hums his approval into your mouth and proceeds to rub your clit through the wet fabric. You arch and gasp at his touch, but he holds you firmly to him and continues to passionately kiss your mouth. 

The circles of his fingers are agonizingly slow until he slips them past the damp cotton and directly touches your skin. You tremble, but he has you and he delights in your loss of control. His hand slowly glides back and he parts your lips to press his fingers inside of you and you moan at the strong warmth of his hand. His palm still grazes your clit as his fingers move to beckon an orgasm from within. 

As you think you are on the verge of collapse, he guides you to the bed and lays you down firmly, but not forcefully. His hands are everywhere and you throw your arms back over your head as you arch back into the mattress. A strangled moan breaks from you and suddenly his hands are gone. 

He's standing at the end of the bed and you watch hungrily as he removes his t-shirt. Your eyes take in what your hands already know of his broad chest and strong arms. His belt hits the floor and shortly after you hear his jeans and boxers join it. Your mouth is agape, and you salivate imagining the taste of his thick hard cock that you now can't tear your eyes away from. 

You remove your panties and your knees fall wide, enticing and inviting him to take all of you.

His skillful hands part your legs further so that he can crawl between them. You feel his thick length graze your thigh as he positions himself above you. You take in his strong features accentuated by the dim light and see the lust flickering in his eyes, matching your own. 

His lips. Again his soft lips on yours insistent and needing. His tongue, exploring your mouth, trying to lap up all of your desire. His hands, strong and determined, kneading your soft flesh, searching for every nerve from which he can strum a moan or a gasp. 

He stops and raises his head above yours, looking down into your eyes as his hand cups your jaw. He repositions his hips and you feel his cock brush against your clit and as he shifts, he slides easily between your wet folds. He pulls back and slowly thrusts forward, entering your core. Your head tries to buck back, but he holds your jaw firmly so that he can see your reaction to him parting you open. Your eyes roll back slightly as you let out a short high pitched cry and the corners of his mouth curl with satisfaction. 

His hips buck and you spread your legs wider to take all of him in. You grip his sides with your knees as you try to hold his body closer to yours. You squeeze him with your legs to feel the mass of him around you, his weight on top of you.

You hear his heavy breathing becoming more ragged as your moans gain confidence. He uses his hold of your head to plant kisses on your cheeks and neck and jaw and with each one you gasp and cry out. 

He's thrusting faster now and you are lost in the rhythm. You grasp at his back and feel the undulating muscles offer their firm resistance, which just makes you grip harder. His breathing stutters as you squeeze and he lets out a short rumbling grunt that you feel shake through his body.

You feel your skin begin to flush and your toes curl as you tense and relax to his ebb and flow. Your walls squeeze tight and he scrunches his eyes closed at the divine pressure. Your body is pulling him into you, desperate to feel him deep inside your core. The pace quickens and you feel the electric jolt of your orgasm spread from your center. As you shake, you cry out and he watches intently at the pleasure he has given you, preparing for his own.

He buries his face in your neck and lets loose a muffled cry as he spills himself into you. Your legs are still twitching from the orgasm that wracked through you and you feel weak but elated as he collapses onto your body. 

You try to catch your breath as he slides out of you and you feel him spill from between your legs. He rolls over and the bed groans as the weight of his strong solid mass lays down next to you. You beam at him, exhausted and satisfied, and he feels the same. He leans forward to kiss your forehead, and when he pulls back, his posture is inviting and you lay your head against his chest. Your breathing slows and you drift off in the safety of his protective embrace.

#maurice compte #there is a new world somewhere #horacio carrillo #horacio carrillo x reader #okay but not really #there's just no tag for this #'cuz my interests are too niche #fic #smut