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#i just wanted to say peter and his hunny bc
peaches-and-parkner · 3 years
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Peter agrees to take Morgan trick or treating and by extension, Harley too. Of course, Peter insists that they all wear matchy costumes even if Morgan was the only one that would be getting candy.
Morgan is in a Winnie the Pooh and the Blustery Day phase and declares that herself and Peter are Piglet and Pooh respectively. Harley frowns at his option in costumes and turns down being Tigger, refuses to wear a costume so Loud, so Peter makes him a more subtle costume, a light yellow shirt with ‘HUNNY’ written across the front in block letters. Peter himself has bear ears tucked in his hair and black eyeliner colored on the tip of his nose. He’s wearing a red shirt and tan courderoy pants (bonus point: he’s wearing a cropped shirt and Harley absolutely Does Not fixate on the exposed skin).
After they’re done trick or treating and Morgan has crashed from her sugar high, Peter settles on the couch next to Harley and tucks himself into his side to watch Halloween movies until they both pass out; 🥺🥺 Pooh bear and his Hunny,, 🥴
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magic-marvel · 6 years
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The Wrong Girl
One-Shot
Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader
Summary: Next time, you will use your words.
Word Count: 908
A/N: guess whos ready to get their heart broken?!!?! 
(super short update but im so tired like im literally melting in my seat rn and i swear if the discount avengers get a hold of my blog they are gonna expose me so ya girl is trying her best to keep my reputation as clean as possible {ps, its not} i love yall and please dont hate me bc my mom will literally fight me if she finds out i posted something this sad)
Request: Anon - Hello! Do you write angst? If you do is there any chance I could have a Peter Parker x reader where the reader loves him but he doesn’t see her as anything more than a friend ?I know you’ve got a few requests right now so this can wait ?
WARNING: is this considered angst?? im just gonna go ahead and say it is
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Your eyes were closed. You felt nothing but the soft bristles of carpeting tickling your arms and the back of your legs. You could feel the wires of earphones wiggle past your cheek, being tugged lightly from your ear. The blasting music of your favorite song was interrupted, a mere echo of lyrics memorized now playing in your head instead of in your ear.
“I was listening to that.” You spoke up, still keeping your eyes closed.
“I wanted to tell you something.” Peter ignored your statement, choosing to poke at the curiosity in your heart, gaining your attention by the mere mention of something secretive.
“Are you finally confessing your feelings for me?” You teased, cracking a single eye open to see Peter hovering over you. You didn't move from your spot on the floor, choosing to look up from under him with both eyes now.
“You wish.” He joked back. And yet, you couldn't help but feel that cold tug at your heart, wishing that in fact that he would.
Peter pulled back, his upside down face was now gone from your view. You took this as a cue to sit up and listen what he was to say. And so you did.
“Spill it, Parker.” You commanded. Peter smiled at floor, a gentle sprinkle of pink over his ears.
This should be good.
“So, it's about Homecoming.” He started, focusing on the carpet below him. You watched as he picked at the strands, before flattening it back down to it's original form.
“Oh?” You questioned, interest peaked at the mention of the event. It would be in a week, and you hoped Peter would ask you long before that.
“Yeah, there's this girl and... well I just get so nervous around her.” He started, now his cheeks were painted scarlet. Your own heart beat in your chest, suddenly excited for what Peter had to say. It made you nervous, scared even, but you've been waiting long enough for it and you were now more than ready to hear it from him.
“Yeah?” You speak, motioning him to continue. You could barely hold in your excitement, wanting him to just come out and say it already.
Peter looked up at you for a moment, allowing you to catch exactly how red he was talking about this. He kept chewing on his lip, unsure how to continue with his confession. But you smiled at him, allowing him the courage to continue.
“And we talk you know, and I'm starting to think she's getting the idea.” Peter went back to picking at the carpet. You scooted closer, as he was speaking since his words were becoming quiet mumbles. He was embarrassed, and it was cute.
“You think so?” You ask, close enough to him to see his freckles, even the way his eyelashes bat towards the ground. He moved his gaze away, refusing to make eye contact with you as he kept going.
“I'm gonna ask her to Homecoming, but I'm super nervous about it and I don't want to make things awkward with her, you know?” Peter looked up once more, chocolate eyes staring into yours in question. His eyebrows were furrowed in worry, his own anxiety showing on his face.
You wanted to scream “Yes” and tell him that you'll go with him, but your own body had a mind of it's own, and instead moved even closer to him.
Peter opened his mouth to question you, unsure of your sudden proximity to him. But before he could get the words out, you planted your lips on his and closed your eyes.
But he didn't react.
There were a few moments between you, waiting for his own lips to move against yours or for him to hold you. But there was nothing, not even the surge of electricity you always heard about.
So you pulled away, your own face contorted in confusion.
“Peter?” You asked, wondering why he leaned away from you.
“I—I don't... I'm sorry I... don't like you like that.”
The words pierced your heart, stealing the very breath from your lungs and suffocating you into nothingness. You stared at him, feeling your heart still and your mind go blank.
“W-What?” Was all you could manage.
“I'm sorry if I-I gave you the wrong impression I-” He tried explaining, now choosing to come closer to you and reach for your hand. “I was talking about Liz, I like her.”
You pulled away before he could touch you, your muscles acting on their own. You felt the wet heat behind your eyes pool, threatening to spill on once comforting carpet. But it all seemed to itch now, scratching at exposed skin and threatening you with the dust and dirt hidden between each bristle.
So you got up.
You grabbed your things, yanking out the earphones from your phone and leaving them on Peter's floor. You could hear your name being called, desperate and apologetic. But it was all a cloud of mumbles in your head, meaningless, even.
You opened the door with a careful grip, worried that even the slightest of angry movement would shatter what remains of your heart.
You didn't turn, only speaking against the door, “I'll see you at school, Peter.”
And you closed it behind you, letting the tears fall in streaks down your cheeks.
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