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#used to never call peter pete but i love it now
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Fall little Wendy bird fall - Chapter 1? (Please watch video first if you haven't seen it)
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TW: Mentions of child death (I added Wendy's brothers in here just for extra angst)
Peter couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t even look away. He wanted to. Needed to. But the shock prevented him from doing so. Tears fell down his cheeks as he saw her lifeless body atop of the rock. The blood flowing from her skull and painting the rock a sickeningly dark red color.  
“Wendy…” he wanted to scream it out but his throat…his body…he didn’t know what to do with himself. What was this feeling? What was it called? He was in so much pain but couldn’t describe it. 
His first and last true love…dead. Died the most horrific and tragic death without even knowing why. Hell, he doesn’t even know why. The other lost boys were being put on land by Tink and the other Faes. confused and scared they were. What the hell just happened?! 
Vidia was still holding him in the magical bubble, and she saw that hurt look in his eyes. The look of grief. The very first stage. She knows that feeling all too well. And she felt bad but…what had to be had to be done. And he’ll get over it soon enough…hopefully. 
All the boys were taken back to the treehouse to rest. They were explained the situation but…with lies and the half-truth.  
Tinkerbell and the others informed them that Wendy was going to take them to a horrible place. A place filled with monsters and people only wishing to harm them. Not only that, but she was going to make them forget the fairies. 
“She was going to hurt you and us. We couldn’t let that happen, we had to protect you.” Tinkerbell touched the cheek of nibs and wiped his tear away. 
As children do, they believed them. somewhat. There was a small feeling inside them that told them she was lying but they didn’t want to say anything. 
“Come on boys. It’s been a long day, how about a bedtime story? Afterwards, you sleep” Rosetta said softly. The boys always loved bedtime stories. One of their favorite things. 
The boys all cuddled in their signature sleep spot near the window. Peter was sat down next to the lost boys and let out of the bubble by Vidia. But he wasn’t mentally here right now. He was still picturing the lifeless body of his true love. The blood…that color. He for sure despised the color red now. 
Tears still ran down his cheeks as he sobbed. He hasn’t stopped crying since the incident. He didn’t even hear the cover story. Not that he would’ve believed it. Wendy was a kind soul. Peter noticed that. No lie would or will tarnish his perception of her. 
Tinkerbell noticed his mental absence and flew up to his face. She looked into his eyes. The once brown and hopeful ones were devoid of color. Barely a light brown. Tink knew she messed up with this one. 
She never experienced true love before so she couldn’t empathize with that part, but she did love her friends. She loved those friends of hers, but they all died the more children started to lessen their belief in them. 
She knew the feeling of grief very well so she could empathize with that. 
“Peter…come on now. Everything will be alright. Wendy was only trying to trick you” 
Don’t do it Tink!
“She didn’t love you, it wasn’t real” she tapped lightly on his nose as a small way to bring him to reality. 
Yep…she just had to say it. 
Peter had memories of him and Wendy having fun together. How she looked at him and made him laugh. How she made his brothers laugh and experience what having a mother was like. Even if it was small. 
Her kindness. Her gentleness. There’s no way that was a trick or a lie. 
“What?” he said quietly. His eyes zeroed in on her in less than a second. He stopped crying. 
“She didn’t love ya pete.” Rosetta flew up next to tink. Some part of her knew this was wrong but had to try to get him to understand. 
There it was again. That word, love. The way Wendy made him feel…there’s no way…
“We had to do it. There was no other choice” Vidia said with a stern tone but it was a little soft. 
They had to do it?! Why?! What reason could they have to kill AND lie on an innocent girl?!
“You…killed…her” Peter said slowly, his fists balled up. The rage was seeping through. One more wrong word and he might snap. 
Cubby sniffled and tugged at Peter’s short sleeve. “Tink said she was going to take us to a horrible place peter. The faes saved us”. Cubby wasn’t sure to really believe the fairies but…surely they wouldn’t hurt Wendy for no reason. 
Peter snapped his head over to Cubby. The look in his eye was evident that Peter was…not okay to say the least.
“What?!” He barked
Tink knew what was about to happen. Seems like he’s going to be hard to get through to. 
“Peter please! We did this for you, all of you” she flew up to his face again and looked into his eyes. Searching for any sign of him believing her. In an instant. In less than two seconds. Peter smacked her away from his face. Smacked her hard enough for her to hit the ground. 
“For me?! You did this for me?! You killed her! The only person that…that..that I LOVED! She was kind to me. Not a monster!” Peter seethed as he looked down at her. 
The other lost boys stood there in shock. Peter would never hurt Tink or her friends. Sure, he swatted her away when she was annoying but never a full pledged smack. Pete basically did the equivalent of smacking your aunt in the face. 
The other faes were shocked too but instantly got into action. Iridessa constrained Peter back with vines. Rosetta and Vidgia helped tinkerbell off the floor with concerned expressions. 
Peter squirmed and thrashed relentlessly. His rage boiling over big time the more he was tied up. 
“Let me go you monsters! You killers! Let me go, you bugs!” Peter tried to get away but he couldn’t. Some of the lost boys began to cry and hug Peter to calm him down.
“Peter stop!” screamed skunk
“Peter please” said nibs
The boy of discussion wasn’t listening to them at all. His main focus was tinkerbell and the other faes. Peter has never felt this much anger in his entire life…which is a long time. The color came back to eyes but it was the same color as Wendy’s blood but with a brighter more glowing hue. 
“I’ll kill you Tinkerbell if that’s the last thing I ever do!” Peter fumed as he still tried to get out of the vines that were wrapped around his arms and legs. Tinkerbell looked into his eyes. There was real truth and intent in them.
This made her angry, but she stayed composed. Vidia was about to smack Peter, but Tink flew up behind her and put her hand on her shoulder. “Vidia, Rosetta, Iridessa…take the boys further up the tree. I need to have a talk with peter” 
The Faes did as she asked and took the boys out of sight. Rosetta was a little hesitant, so she added an extra layer of vines around him just in case, then she left with the others. 
Tink flew up to Peter’s face…and smacked him. Not as hard as she pushed Wendy but hard enough to leave some pain. It hurt. It really did. Tink wasn’t one for physical discipline, that was Vidia and Rosetta’s job but a lesson needed to be taught. 
Peter let tears fall down his cheeks. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the physical pain of the slap or the emotional pain of Wendy’s death. Either way, he was hurting. 
Her face was composed but eyebrows furrowed. “Peter…you know what happened to my kind. We died off one by one. Because little brats out there stopped believing in us. You and those boys were going to leave us behind and forget…I couldn’t have that.”
Peter's eyes widened at the realization. He forgot all about tink and the others while he was on that ship, the boys did too. But still…Wendy didn’t deserve that…wait..her brothers. Where were her brothers?! They were on the ship to…oh sweet neverland. 
“John…John and Michael. Where are they?!” Peter asked with fear but anger in his tone. 
Did this boy not hear her? Did he just blatantly ignore what she just said?! This angered Tink further. So much so that…she wasn’t mindful of what she’ll say
“Dead! Their dead peter! All three of them! They drowned and died just like their sister!” Tink yelled at him. And she regretted it as soon as she said it. The hurt look in Peter’s eyes was all it took for her heart to sink.
“No…no. You're lying…please tell me you're lying!” Peter begged as more tears left his eyes. 
Tinkerbell wanted to lie, to tell him all of it was some big joke. But how could she?  He already saw Wendy die and she already yelled that her brothers were dead. Wendy’s death was already an indication that she couldn’t even lie if she wanted to. 
Her silence was loud, loud enough for him to know the answer. The dam broke further and he bursted out in full uncontrollable sobs. It hurt Tinkerbell to see him like this but she had to do what she needed to do. 
“I hate you” Peter breathed out as he sobbed, “I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you, you monster!”
Those words shocked Tinkerbell. Off all things that was the last thing she would ever expect him to say to her. That hurt worse than the slap he gave her. No, she couldn’t show weakness. Not at a time like this. 
“You ungrateful little brat. I gave you this home! I gave you brothers and the chance to never grow up! You have every child's dream yet you dare speak to me that way?! I gave you everything” She reprimanded. 
“I DIDN’T ASK TO BE HERE! You could’ve taken any other kid yet you took me! You ripped my life away once and did it again! I was going to have a life with-.” Peter felt sick as he saw the dead body of Wendy in his mind again. Not to mention her brothers bodies are at the bottom of the ocean by now “you took their life…you killed them”
How could he not see that this was not necessary?! 
“ We would’ve died if you left!” 
“You think we would’ve forgotten you?! We care about you as much as you do for us. How could we possibly forget you?!” Peter sobbed louder as the pain in his heart grew bigger each second. 
“Why didn’t you just come with us?” his voice was small and faint, the crying was making him lose his voice. 
Tinkerbell was caught off guard by that question. 
“What?” she didn’t need to ask him that. She understood the question very well-
“...you could’ve left with us…”
Tink didn’t think of that. Not at all. You mean to tell her she didn’t have to kill three innocent children? No, that’s not possible. 
No, all of it was for a reason. That’s final.
“You killed them” Peter repeated as his mind and heart continued to shatter into pieces. 
“well…I didn’t bring them here. The only person to blame here is you” more words she regretted as soon as they slipped out of her mouth. Did she really just say that?! Take it back, take it back!
“No wait I’m-”
“My fault...MY FAULT?!” Rage settled over Peter again as tears flowed. 
“No, Peter please”
“I just wanted to give them a better life YOU KILLED THEM YOU MURDERER!”
The argument went on back and forth until Peter refused to listen to anything she had to say. All words that came out of her mouth fell on deaf ears as he had one thing set on his mind. 
He wasn’t even looking her in the eye. Just at the floor as tears dropped onto it. He spoke his final words “....count your days Tinkerbell”
Tinkerbell stopped trying to get through to him. That was a threat. Not an empty one either. Tink decided it was best to leave Peter alone to cool off because right now he wasn’t in the right space to talk to. And she was a little bit scared of his presence. 
She flew out of the window and sat on top of a tree branch. 
“He’ll come around Tink, everything will be fine and go back to how things used to be” she told herself with a smile. She actually believed that. 
For the following days, weeks, and months, Peter wouldn't talk to any of the Faes. Hell, he wouldn't even speak. Not even to the lost boys.
He did a couple times, but to only tell them the fairies were lying to them. After that, Vidia banned the boys from ever going into Peter's room.
They were only allowed to visit him when it was feeding time. Peter wouldn't take food from the fairy girls, so the boys were the best way to ensure his health.
At these times one of the boys would be accompanied by a fairy to make sure Peter wouldn't tell any lies. Or put down any belief in them if he did manage to say something.
Tink was the only fairy who refused to see him. She couldn't bare seeing him in that condition. That pure hatred and intent to kill in his eyes.
It hurt all of the fairies honestly, to the very core of their being. It hurt to lie. It hurt to see the boys being unsure and skeptical around them. They never wanted none of this to happen. But it did...and they were paying for it internally everyday.
They didn't want to treat Peter as if he was some prisoner who did a heinous crime but if they let him go their lives would be at stake.
And Peter didn't know is that...he would remain in that room..,for a very long time.
-
To pixie hollow/Tinker bell fans I'm letting you know now that I only watched Pirate Fairy and Secret of the wings in the entire franchise. So, I don't know that much about the characters. I'm basing half of my knowledge off of the Peter Pan movie in 1953.
If you want to drop some info in my inbox, go ahead and if you have any questions drop them there too.
Likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated!
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I don't know you anymore (maybe I never really did)
let me wrap my teeth around the world - series masterlist here
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pairing: poly marauders x reader (gender neutral)
length: 1.7k
genre: fluff, angst (happy ending to come)
warnings: slytherin reader, some serious emotional dodging and avoidance but you know me it all ends up ok, peter is your bestie and that's just the way it is sorry, no happy ending YET but I promise it's coming this is not a tragedy
a/n: happy ending next week I love y'all too much to leave you with heartache
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"Sorry, love," Remus begins to bend down, hand reaching to pick up the book you'd dropped when the two of you collided in the library, but you quickly shoot your own hand out to snatch it up first. "What are you doing here this late?"
"Getting a book," you say plainly. Remus's brows furrow slightly, his eyes drifting over your figure as if to somehow see why you're acting so strangely.
"Alright, dove. We're all planning on studying pretty late tonight - you're welcome to join us. We can always sneak you back down to the dungeons whenever you're ready to call it a night." Remus is quiet when he talks, that soothing, soft air he has about him making your shoulders drop as you lean against the bookshelf next to you.
"As if I can't sneak myself around the castle without your help," you bite back playfully. A smile twitches across Remus's lips as he thinks, just for a moment, that you're back, that you'll follow him up to his common room and spend the night laying on a couch with him, your legs slung over James's lap while you throw wads of paper at Sirius's head. His heart thumps a little painfully when he realizes that he can't remember the last time you've done that with them - he can't remember the last time you've hung out with them at all. 
It's as if you remember that fact at the same time he does, as the faint smile slips off your face and you straighten. "I can't tonight," you say kindly. "But thank you." Remus blinks as you begin to move past him, your polite voice ringing through his head. Like we're strangers, he thinks weakly. Except you're not even that nice to strangers.
Remus is busy slouching against the nearest bookshelf and wondering what they possibly could have done to make you avoid them so desperately but so kindly when he hears you let out another sigh from where you've walked past him.
"Wow," Sirius drawls as Remus turns to see him and James standing in front of you and you pointedly looking past them, like you're a trapped animal searching for the nearest escape route. "I'd almost forgotten you go here still." Your gaze snaps to Sirius and you narrow your eyes at him.
"It's good to see you," James interjects, seeing the two of you size each other up and eager to avoid a showdown between you and Sirius. "How have you been, love?"
"You see me in class almost every day," you snipe back at Sirius before turning to James. "I've been busy, and I still am now so - if you'll excuse me." With that, you slip between the two of them, exiting the library swiftly. Remus sighs and Sirius scowls at the now empty doorway, James opting to look down at the floor, staring dejectedly like a kicked puppy. No doubt you're holing up down in the Slytherin dorms all night now - as far away as you can get from them. Sirius smoothes a hand over James's unruly curls as Remus squeezes his shoulder comfortingly.
"We'll figure this out," he says gently, and as Sirius looks at him, he begs himself to believe it.
"You lost, Pete?" You don't look up from your book as Peter plants himself in the seat opposite you, frowning at you.
"Like we've never had breakfast together before," he huffs back, and you can't stop the smile that flits across your lips at the confidence that he's so clearly been nurturing. You close your book with a thump and place your chin in your hand, staring at him and waiting for him to continue. "Half the time, you're at the Gryffindor table. It can't be so different for me to come over here."
"Hm, maybe it's not," you shrug, picking your book back up to toss it across the table at him. "Read the back of that. You can borrow it when I'm done - I think you'll like it." Peter picks it up tentatively and gets about halfway through the synopsis before he's dropping it back on the table and crossing his arms.
"You're making them miserable," he says bluntly. You pout in a mocking sort of manner, but Peter's frown tells you that he doesn't believe you're as heartless as you typically let on.
"I thought you just came here to have breakfast with me," you switch tactics. 
"Tell me what's going on with you," he pushes. You straighten up in your seat.
"Why don't you just ask them?"
"I have - they don't know. Every time they try to talk to you about it, you find some reason to run away."
"Would you like to see that first hand?" 
"You can't run away from me. I'll cry," Peter insists. You sniff indignantly, mostly because you know he's right. The two of you stare at each other for a long time, and it's to your surprise that he doesn't waver. Your heart does something strange in your chest when you realize that his determination may be because this is more serious than you'd thought - you're hurting them more than you thought.
"They need to get over me, Pete," you say quietly.
"Why?" He presses.
"Because if they don't then this gets messy. None of us want that," you insist. Peter softens a bit, looking sympathetic.
"It's already messy." The bite has left Peter's voice as he reaches to pat your arm across the table. You look at his hand pointedly and he's reminded swiftly that anyone else who reached out to console you like that would get a smack from you. He smiles as he thinks of the kindness that lives in you that you seem to be blind to.
"I'll talk to them," you sigh, leaning forward to let your head thump down onto the table. Peter pats the top of your head gently and, for that, he does get a smack.
"James," your voice makes him stumble to a stop, whipping around to look at you so fast that you nearly run into him, sidestepping him at the last minute as he looks at you, bewildered.
"Are you talking to me?" He asks, confusion and surprise making his voice thick. Something painful twinges in your chest at his shock. Of course I am, you want to say. Who else would I ever want to talk to?
"Yes," is all you end up saying. James shifts on his feet and looks at you a little wearily.
"Are you ok?" He asks and a breath leaves your lungs quickly. 
"I'd like to talk to you… if you have a moment?" James looks at you strangely, but he just nods and leads you out of the hall to the quiet courtyard. There's no, of course I have time for you, pretty thing. I always have time for you. It's just James, stiff and silent and hurting… because of you.
"Peter says I'm making you all miserable," you say bluntly, regret immediately seeping into you at the way James flinches, sitting on the bench in front of you slowly. You stay standing in front of him, looking down at the way he runs a hand through his curls.
"It's just," he begins, looking around as if to find the answer somewhere, or maybe just to find some way of getting away from you. "If we knew what we'd done to upset you then maybe we could make it better. You're just freezing us out, lovely, and that means we can't fix… whatever it is that's happened."
"It's not…" Now it's your turn to look around vaguely, wishing you could get out from under his sharp gaze. "It's not anything you've done. It's just - it's the way things go sometimes. It's ok, James, you just have to move on." But James's face hardens at that, a sternness you're not used to overtaking his features as he stands so that he can look you eye to eye. You have to tilt your head back to look up at him.
"That's what you want us to do? Just… move on? Forget about you? Pretend we were never friends?" The sombre tone in his voice doesn't suit him, and neither does the timid hurt in yours.
"Are we friends, James? Is that what we all are?" James blinks at that, taking a step back and sitting back down onto the bench rather abruptly. When he looks up at you this time, there's something akin to remorse swimming in his eyes.
"Is that what it is, lo-" the pet name dies on his tongue as he presses his lips together firmly. "I'm sorry. I thought - we all thought that you felt the same way about us that we do about you. We thought… we thought we were all more than friends with you and that you… I'm sorry. We never dreamt of making you uncomfortable." You scoff at his words, shaking your head fondly and toeing at the dirt by his feet with your shoe.
"Uncomfortable?" You say disbelievingly. "Please - you three are the biggest gentlemen I've ever met. I don't think you could make me uncomfortable if you tried." James's shoulders sag in relief, but the look he gives you is still that of a lost, confused puppy. You look past him to see a group of students hurrying to their next class and open your mouth to remind James that the two of you also are officially late, but he speaks before you can.
"Then what is it? Please, just… what did we do?"
"It's like I said, James… it's just a bad idea. It's wrong and I can't do this. I… we have to get to class."
But James doesn't go to class that day. He sits on that bench, staring at the place you'd been standing in, until Remus and Sirius find him that evening. And as the two of them tug him up and inside, all he can think of is how they really have lost you.
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ellecdc · 27 days
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Hiii, so i got really excited about all the new ships and i wondering if i could request a poly!prongsfoot x female reader where maybe the reader completely matches their energy and its like a college au and the boys bring reader to meet all their friends for the first time and everybody is like… woah… now theres 3 of them. Just some super energetic cutesy fluff if you dont mind, thank you for considering this i really appreciate it!!! Hope your doing amazing🫶🏻
omg so I saw a post the other day and there's another ship name for Sirius x James = starbucks!! How cute? Thanks for your request and your patience - it took me some time to flush this out (I think any new ships likely will take me longer!)
poly!prongsfoot x fem!reader who's just like them
Remus doesn’t think he’s ever seen his two best friends as excited as they currently were, sitting and waiting (rather impatiently) for your arrival. 
Peter, Mary, and Lily were sitting on the booth against the wall, with Remus and Regulus sat together to the right of them, with Sirius and James to their right.
Sirius and James had been talking about this ‘perfect girl’ they met in their psych 101 class last semester, likely since the very day they met you if Remus assumed correctly. 
“She’s so pretty, Moons! I’ve never seen eyes as beautiful as hers.”
“She’s so funny! You should have heard her snarking the frat boys behind us in yesterday’s lecture.”
“She’s brilliant! She helped us study and I got 88% on our last exam!”
And now, a whole semester and a half later, they’d finally convinced you to meet their friends.
Lord knows how two of the most hyperactive and mischievous people Remus has ever had the pleasure of knowing managed to trick another person to put up with them voluntarily, but he did really like seeing them so happy and excited in life; both so deserving for different reasons. 
James deserved all the love that he so openly and willingly shared with others, and Sirius had worked so hard to become the man he is and deserved to be celebrated for it.
So, if what made them happy was a cute girl from their intro to psychology course? Well, Remus couldn’t argue with them. 
“I can’t wait until she gets here; you’re all going to love her.” James declared, shifting closer to Sirius in his excitement who quickly threw his arm over his boyfriend’s shoulders. 
“So, don’t embarrass us, alright? We want to keep her around.” Sirius added, placing a chaste kiss to James' shoulder as James practically vibrated in his seat.
“I assure you, Sirius, you do not need our help embarrassing you.” Regulus drawled, not bothering to look up from the drink’s menu in his hand.
“Oi! You take that back!” Sirius barked as he flicked the menu up into Regulus’ face. 
Remus had to quickly grip his boyfriend’s shoulder to hold him in his seat as he looked like he was about to crawl over the table to strangle his brother.
“Easy, babe.” Remus commented teasingly, “I doubt Pete, Lily, or Mary will bother calling 999 if you kill him, but their new girl may not be as understanding.”
Sirius harrumphed earning him a conciliatory kiss from James as Pete and the girls just snickered. 
Regulus’ muttering was interrupted by a commotion at the door as a group sitting near the entrance cheered at a new arrival.
“Yay! Are you finally joining us for a pub night, Y/N?!” someone shouted, causing both James and Sirius’ head to snap to attention; Remus was sure if they were dogs, their tails would be wagging and their ears would have perked up. 
“God no! I wouldn’t dream of it!” You called back teasingly, pulling away from someone who had stood to give you a hug. 
“Foul!” The person called back as their friend group laughed.
“Next time!” You promised as you moved through the crowd, face lighting up somehow even brighter when you spotted James and Sirius.
James was up on his feet the second you made eye contact with him and he all but carried you over to the group.
“Hi angel! I’m so glad you could make it!” He cheered at you as he kissed your cheek. 
“Of course, Jamie. I was looking forward to it.” You responded as you beamed at Sirius who stood as well to give you a proper hug.
“Hiya, dollface! How was your day?” Sirius asked as he held you to his chest.
“Good! Good, I’m looking forward to a drink, though.” You laughed, shucking your jacket off which James was quick to take from you to hang it on the hook attached to the booth. 
“Everyone; this is Y/N! Y/N, that there is our best mate Remus, that’s his boyfriend and less importantly my brother Regulus,” Sirius introduced, causing Regulus to scowl and Remus to chuckle as he consolingly squeezed Regulus’ knee. “And that there is our other best mate Peter, and these beauties here are Lily and Mary.”
You enthusiastically exchanged handshakes with those you could reach and no less enthusiastic waves with those who you couldn’t.
“It’s so nice to meet you all! I’ve heard so much about you.”
“Which is concerning, considering you guys met in class?” Regulus commented, earning him a booming laugh from you.
“I was doing too well in that class anyways; it’s good to keep your GPA well rounded.” You responded in jest, gently nudging a furiously blushing James with your elbow as Sirius beamed at the two of you from your other side. 
As the group of you spoke, Remus noticed a number of people coming up to clap James or Sirius on the shoulders who knew them from their classes or various extracurriculars., though that wasn’t all that unusual when attending a pub night near campus. What Remus found to be quite phenomenal was how many people happened to come up to you to do the same.
Remus supposed it made sense for his two social and quite popular friends to find a kindred spirit, but he couldn’t believe that there were three of you who appeared to be so universally liked.
Well, Remus was sure some of Sirius’ notoriety was less from his likeability and more for his flirty nature. 
Mary had a lot of fun talking to you about her Instagram feed and your TikTok, which was full of videos of you, Sirius, and James doing trendy dances to various degrees of success. 
You were eager to discuss your latest reads with Remus, Regulus, and Lily, and you all laughed at the furious blush that took over Regulus’ face when the three of you started discussing the erotic books you’d enjoyed recently. 
“I mean, really; is that appropriate to be discussing in such a public setting?” Regulus had muttered as he looked over his shoulder to ensure other patrons hadn’t heard the scandalous books the three of you had read.
“Oh, don’t be such a prude, Reggie. I’ve seen the love bites you’ve left on my mate; you’re no saint.” Sirius had drawled, causing the blush to migrate all the way down Regulus’ neck.
You even joined in with some of Peter's quick-witted jests at the boys' expense.
In the end, it was the way you fell easily into the friendly banter with the group as if you’d been part of it all along that really won Remus over, had his friends’ lovesick smiles not already thoroughly convinced him of your worth. 
“I really like Y/N.” He commented to Regulus as he finished flossing his teeth that night. Regulus scoffed without lifting his head from the book he’d been reading already comfortable in bed.
“You would.”
Remus furrowed his brow as he turned the bathroom light off and climbed into bed.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“She’s exactly your type.”
Remus barked a laugh and pulled Regulus (quite rudely, if you’d asked Regulus) into his side, forcing him to lay the book flat on the bed lest he lose his place for good.
“I’d argue that’s not the case, seeing as you’re my type.” He murmured into his boyfriend’s neck.
Regulus rolled his eyes though his face betrayed the fondness he felt for Remus. “That’s not what I meant, tosser.”
“What’d you mean then?” He asked, trailing kisses along Regulus’ collarbone.
“I mean she’s bubbly, she’s bold and outgoing, she’s mischievous, and she seemed to put up with the lot of you quite well.”
Remus lifted his head to look at Regulus bemusedly.
“She’s a carbon copy of two of your best friends, she’s basically Sirius and James.” Regulus clarified, looking smug as Remus’ face fell in understand.
“Oh my God...” Remus whispered in horror. “There’s three of them.” 
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Request for smut 6 & 9 I got this idea from a movie heheh where you’re texting peter at your family dinner and it’s dirty texts and he’s like 😳 then meet each other in the bathroom and fuck with you sitting on the counter but cover Peter’s mouth because he moans loud naturally
Really Quick
--genre: fluff & smut
--pairing: tasm!peter parker x afab!reader
--word count: 0.9k
--warnings: bathroom quickie, PinV, unprotected sex (don't), creampie, mirror sex(ish), this is so silly and so hot.
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--gif credits: @onscreenkisses
Conversation elevated the dining room’s atmosphere, and yet all you could focus on was Peter and the phone in your lap. 
petey<3: i need you, bug. so so bad. 
You look up at your boyfriend who is sitting directly across from you, a stupid smirk on his face. Your hands have suddenly started to become clammy, as you look back down at your phone to make sure you’re not misreading his text. 
You know Peter has been pretty worked up this week. Work has been keeping him at the office late, which meant less time seeing each other. Peter’s a moody man to say the least, especially when it comes to you. If he doesn’t see you for at least an hour every day, grumpy. If you two don’t spend dinner together, grumpy. Some people would call this clingy and annoying, and if you weren’t utterly obsessed with your boyfriend, you would say the same. But he makes it so hard to be mad at him, until now. 
Looking back up at his face, your eyes cut into his, you’re shocked. He brings his water glass up to his mouth, taking a long sip as he doesn’t break eye contact. He loves this. 
you: don’t give me that look. 
petey<3: i have no idea what you’re talking about baby. 
You’ve had enough, “I’m gonna head to the bathroom really quick, excuse me.” Standing and walking away from the table, you shoot a quick glance at Peter, an unspoken request for him to follow you. 
He takes a deep breath as he takes another sip of water, clearing his throat before he speaks, “Oh shit…I’ve got to take this call, I’ll be right back.” Your family barely noticed, too involved in separate conversations to actually pay attention to the two of you. 
Peter walked through the home and finally found the bathroom, light seeping through the crack at the bottom of the door. He knocks twice before you open the door and quickly pull him into the cramped space. 
You waste no time as you plant your lips onto his, the kiss messy and uncoordinated. Pulling away from his kiss, you're the first to speak, “You think it’s funny to tease me like that in front of everyone?” He doesn’t respond right away, too flustered to even comprehend what you just asked him. “You’re lucky you’re cute, Peter.”
You knew you had to make this quick as you strip only the bottom half of your clothing and pull your panties to the side. Peter lets his pants and boxers fall to the floor as they pool at his feet. Grabbing under your thighs, Peter lifts you onto the bathroom counter, the cool tile giving you goosebumps. 
Looking up into his eyes, you grab Peter’s cock and line him up with your entrance before he thrusts into you, your back arching off of the mirror behind you. A breathy sigh escapes your mouth. For as long as you’ve known Peter, you still have never gotten used to his length. The tip of his cock always hits that special spot inside of you leaving you craving for more. 
Peter starts to pick up the pace, a sudden urgency plaguing his mind as he comes to realize the situation the two of you are in. The moment he starts to move, you clench around him, the feeling of him inside of you bringing a smile to your face. Peter stares out in front of him and takes in the sight, the mirror perfectly reflecting the way his cock disappears in you, a loud pornographic moan leaving his lips. The sound makes your eyes snap open and clasp a hand around his mouth, “You know I love how you sound, but please Pete, be quiet.”
He nods against your hand as his pace speeds up. You’re getting close. Squeezing his arm next to you, you squeeze your eyes tight as you cum around him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…baby, oh my god,” you whisper, just loud enough for him to hear. 
You two are making a mess, especially when Peter cums inside of you. Your pussy filled with him, some of it spilling out of you and falling onto the counter. Even though he came, Peter is still pumping into you, the pace slowing but still strong. 
Letting go of his mouth and arm, you reach around to his back, clawing at the skin. He’s making you feel too good right now, “P–Peter, fuck, wait I’m gonna cum again.”
“C’mon bug, cum on my cock again. Let me feel you around me,” he’s panting in your ear, his breath fanning over the side of your neck. 
The second time you came, it was Peter who had to cover your mouth, the pleasure becoming too much. You’re coming down from your high, and the world around you is a blinding white, but all you hear is Peter talking you through it, “That’s it, baby, you did so well. Take a breath, my love.”
Opening your eyes, you see him looking down at you as he pushes some hair that has fallen into your face away and behind your ear. You can’t even speak, your mind is still a little foggy. Peter starts to plant kisses across your cheeks, forehead, and nose before he breaks the silence, “I’ll head out first, don’t follow too close behind.”
You laugh, “You don’t want to announce to my family that you just fucked me in the bathroom?” 
“I’m on their good side, I can’t ruin that,” he winks. 
--author's note: 200 follower celebration BEGINS!!! WOOOO!!!!!! this is so hot, and i love a good mirror sex quickie. thank you nonnie for this request!!!! ILY!!! please continue to support me and your fav writers by liking, commenting, and reblogging! ok, ily bye<3333
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Text
sweet dreams.
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synopsis : it was yet another sleepless night for you— peter, of course, wasn't going to allow that.
pairing : bf!peter parker x reader
wc : 502
warnings : nothing worth warning <3 unless you’re against tooth rotting fluff !!!!! it’s all FLUFF FLUFF FLUFFF !! a comfort fic for my night owls out there who refuse to sleep (mutuals… go to bed)
‎‎ ୨ masterlist | request | navigation ୧
a/n : hi ! sooo this is a rewrite of an old one, i feel like this is an improvement so i’m pretty proud of that !!! <3 hope you guys enjoy this lil fic, it’ll bring you sm joy, i promise !!!! comments, asks, reblogs, are greatly all appreciated :)
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brring! brring! brring!
a smile forms on your face as you look at your phone to see the caller id: ‘lovebug’ alongside a plethora of heart emojis. you always loved hearing from him, no matter the context, and of course you would never complain. only question was, why exactly was he calling you at 3 a.m. in the morning? 
“pete?” you answer, turning on your camera. your hair is an absolute mess, but you hardly care at this point. besides, it was peter you were talking to, he thought you were beautiful no matter how you looked.
“hi gorgeous.” just as expected. he’s predictable like that.
“my hair’s a mess, pete.” you chuckle, trying to fix it as much as you possibly could.
“i think it makes you look cute.” he’s grinning sweetly, only to see you roll your eyes in response.
“whaaaat? it’s true!”
“yeah, right.” you respond, the sarcasm clear in your voice.
“i’m serious.” his tone deepens, though it’s paired with an odd look— one that you assume was supposed to be an intimidating scowl, but it just made him look utterly adorable.
“you’re the cute one.” his grin only widens at your compliment.
“thanks, but i already know that.” he flips his (imaginary) hair, making you giggle. he can’t help but do the same once he hears you.
“anyways, why’d you call?” you ask.
“well, i swung past your window on the way home from patrol and i noticed that you weren’t asleep yet,” he pouts. oh. “i wanted to tell you to go to bed, you know you need it.”
“technically, i’m already in bed,” you quip, lying down to prove a point. he could only roll his eyes in response.
“i meant sleep, missy.” his voice was slightly stern, mimicking a mother’s voice.
“no, thank you.” you grin cheekily, though you talk in the same tone as he did, he sighs in disappointment.
“please!” he’s pleading now, using your known weakness, his ‘puppy eyes’. clearly, that wasn’t fair.
“i’m busy though!” no you weren’t, you were simply watching tv all night, or at least you were planning to.
“lovie, you’ve gotta get your beauty sleep.” he’s serious this time. you just looked at him and pouted, you did not want to sleep, despite the fact that your eyelids were beginning to feel heavier by the second.
“hm, okay, i’ll make you a deal.” that piqued your interest.
“okay, tell me.” you lean closer to your phone, peter notices that he’s got your full attention.
“maybe i could swing over for a sleepover?” he suggests, the smile on his face never leaving, “we could cuddle? i know you love those.” that was a well known fact between the two of you, it was also peter’s way to get you to fall asleep, a method that never fails.
“hm,” you mulled over the offer, but peter knew what you’d say, “okay, deal.” you say dryly in an attempt to mask your excitement.
“alright, beautiful, be there in ten.”
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a/n : hope you loved it <3 thank you for reading !!! please leave feedback, comments, and reblogs 🥰
taglist : (okay so, i’m tagging my old taglist in hopes to see if you’re still interested ! i was previously @/darling-im-moonstruck so yeah !) @cagethemunson, @tfatwsparker, @jaydannyyy, @hallecarey1, @live-laugh-lovejoy, @parkerpeter24, @saturnpeter, @poemsforparker, @hllandvibbes, @herpeanutzombie
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ptergwen · 2 years
Note
peter parker in glasses owns my heart. can you write something about him in glasses and reader is all over him. (doesn’t have to be smut but can it be a little spicy?)
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ask box  |  taglist  |  blurb masterlist  |  main masterlist
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w/c: 699
warnings: 18+, a lil angst, explicit language, suggestive, and implied smut
a/n: oh absolutely! i had to use tom as my reference because his peter never wears glasses :/ also not to sound like a broken record but pls join my new taglist besties
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peter’s lips twitch into a frown as he opens up his new glasses case. he picks the glasses up by their bridge and looks them over, debating whether or not to put them on.
he used to need glasses before he got his powers. the spider bite gave him perfect vision, so he stopped wearing them and hasn’t since. now that he’s older, though, his vision isn’t what it once was. he’s been straining his eyes all these years, squinting through the eyes of his spider-man mask and staring at computer screens for college assignments. it’s back to glasses he goes.
he’s not too upset that he has to wear them again. what he’s worried about is what you’ll think.
the thick, black frames peter wore as a kid were dorky and often got him teased. they were all he could afford, and it’s not like he’s rolling in the dough now either. the new pair he purchased is hardly an upgrade.
you didn’t know peter before he was spider-man. the two of you met and began dating in college, well after he got ripped, taller, and lost the glasses. if he starts wearing glasses again, what if you’re not attracted to him anymore? what if you see him as the nerd everyone else did?
there’s a knock at peter’s dorm door. it must be you. you two have a date later. peter inhales, a deep breath, and opens the door.
“hey, pete.”
“hi, baby. come in.”
you set a hand on peter’s cheek and greet him with a quick kiss, smiling. he smiles back and shuts the door behind you. you take a seat on his bed.
“are those your glasses?”
you point to the pair in peter’s hand.
he’d told you he needed them, but he didn’t tell you they were ready. he was hoping to avoid you seeing him in them for as long as he could.
“uh, yeah. i just picked them up.”
“put them on, i wanna see.”
“i dunno, y/n. i don’t know how they look on me. i haven’t tried them yet.”
“well, then now’s a good a time as any. put them on!”
peter’s face scrunches up, mouth opening to protest. you jut out your bottom lip.
“please? for me?”
as much as he wants to, he can’t say no to that.
“okay, but i warned you.”
peter unfolds the glasses by their hinges and slips them on, adjusting them so they’re behind his ears. he pushes them up on his nose by the bridge. he finally meets your eyes from across the room, teeth clenched nervously. you ogle him for a solid amount of time without blinking, mouth hanging open.
“are they that bad?”
peter starts to take his glasses off.
“no, leave them!”
“but i thought you didn’t like them.”
“are you kidding? i love them!”
you get up from peter’s bed and walk back over to him. peter’s features hold shock. your hands come to either side of his face, lips forming a grin.
“they look so good, pete. they really suit you. and they’re actually super sexy, too.”
“you think they’re sexy?”
“uh huh. they make you look all mature. feel like i should call you sir or something.”
“sir is good. but be honest, do you actually like them? because i think they’re kind of embarrassing.”
you leave a kiss on peter’s nose, just under his glasses.
“i like you with or without glasses, peter. there’s nothing to be embarrassed about, okay? not with me.”
peter cracks a smile and loops his arms around your middle.
“thank you. that made me feel way better.”
“of course.”
one of your hands moves down peter’s body, two fingers inching their way up to his chest.
“seriously, though. the glasses are turning me on. what time does your roommate get back?”
“not til late, why?”
“because.”
you beckon peter closer. he turns his head so you can whisper in his ear. his brows raise, grip on you tightening.
“oh… oh, shit. but i thought we were going out?”
“not anymore. we’re staying in.”
peter lowers his glasses. you push them back up.
“the glasses stay on when we fuck.”
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tags: @mystic-writings @just-lost-inbetween-worlds @lnmp89 @jenoslov @crvshnburnn @yourlocalomlette @starlight-starks @belovasheart @liltimmyst @eviewriites @hollandsangel @parkerctrl @eichenhouseproperty @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @varshhyy @ellebutnotwoods @magicalxdaydream @tayyx @parkerdadda
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dwindlinghaze · 5 months
Note
reader pretending she (or they) doesn’t love peter back when he confesses because she is scared to lose him as a friend if they break up so after some angst and pining and avoiding feelings they end up together? ty!
main thing
(peter parker x reader)
summary : you're scared of losing peter as a friend by being more than friends with him.
contents : fluff, small angst ig, she they pronouns used!!! kind of short and rushed im so sorry but i love this concept a lot so thank you anon !!! 🫧🫧
a/n : im back!!!!! im really sorry if my writting is messy and stuff cuz i haven't been writing fics for months noww,, anyway i hope u like it 🫧☃️☁️ and a little rant here um i have this exact situation with a girl- i like her a lot and i knew she liked me back but i also happened to know that if we were to be together it will not last very long so we just ignore whatever is there between us. but don't worry lovelies r and peter's ending won't be like mine <3
  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
the hallway between classes were so full. crowded by students walking in eight cardinal directions. your head felt dizzy, it's like you're seeing everything underwater. your steps came to a halt when you were met with a row of lockers. palm against the cold metal as you gain back your stability.
peter must've seen you from the other side of the hall. frowning as he took in your state.
he walked over to you, cautiously. "you okay?"
you looked up to meet his eyes, immediately closing them back when the ceiling light hit your vision. "not feeling well."
peter placed his left palm over your cheek, rubbing them softly to soothe you. he didn't know if it helped but he smiled nevertheless when you nuzzled your face further into his hand.
you wanted peter to give you a hug, maybe his shoulder can be a good resting spot for your heavy head and his warmth can relax your muscles.
and of course. peter did. without you even asking.
"wanna go to the infirmary?" he asked softly, rubbing the side of your head as you completely lose all energy, so now he's the one that held you standing.
"mmh," you replied, not having the energy to form real words.
"alright then let's go," peter started to pull away but stopped midway when he felt you struggling.
"pete, i'm sorry i can't, i have to lay down," you whispered. so soft and low. if he weren't that close to you, he wouldn't hear it.
"that's alright, just slow steps," he encouraged.
he missed his class but he didn't care. he just wanted to be there with you. showing his affection because of his new slash old found love he has for you.
your migraine has not subsided at all the following day. you decided, for good, to skip class. there's no point in going to school when you're sick anyway right? you'll have ended up in a worse condition by the end of the day.
peter was searching for you left and right, he knew you were sick and he is worried sick about your whereabouts. he called you several times already but you never picked up.
when school finally finished, which for him was the longest six hours of his life, he immediately went to your house.
your mother was the one greeting him, saying that you're resting in the comfort of your bed. he went upstairs, after getting your mom's permission, and knocked on your door softly. "hey, it's me peter, can i come in?"
you gave him a very soft hum, thanks to his advanced hearing he can hear you just well.
you were lying on your bed, covered in tons of blankets. peter felt warmth rushing through his chest, seeing you like this. he approached you slowly and kneeled beside your bed.
"how are you feeling?" he asked ever so gently, hand on your shoulder with the blanket in between.
you peeked an eye open, your room was dimly lit, only your vanity lights were on. "better than yesterday," you answered, pushing yourself up slowly. "the migraine is not as bad as yesterday, my head is hurting- just a little."
"oh okay," peter replied. "do you need anything? i can bring you food or drink or water? do you need painkillers?"
you smiled, reaching for his hand, "i'm fine pete, just cold. can you turn up the ac please?"
peter did just that, jumping to his feet to take the remote.
after that you fell into a deep sleep again. peter was there the whole time. he was thinking about... stuff. stuff he wants to tell you.
he sat on your bed right beside your blanketed legs, his hands over them. he looked at you, your sleepy face, perfect hair, soft cheeks. you are his friend. best friend in the whole world. no one understands him like you did. just a few months ago he realised that his feelings may have grown.
it's not just a friendship kind of love but a lover kind of love.
he recalled the amount of time he had cried on your arms. laughed together with you. talk about embarrassing things he had done and had regretted. nobody knows him like you do. and peter would not let anybody know him like you do.
you're the only person that he can be vulnerable with. the only one that he can just be himself even if it's not the best. the only one he trusts.
"what are you thinking over there?" your voice pulled him out of his thoughts. he gave you a smile and you gave peter space for him to lie down.
"just thinking about thoughts... ?" peter answered but it's more like a question.
"thoughts about?"
"nothing."
"you know you can always tell me anything right? no matter what it is," you assured the boy.
"yeah..."
"so...?"
"you're sick right now, you should be resting," he said instead.
you sat up, stretching your muscles as you scrunched up your face. "i feel a whole lot better now... hey do you want some meal and we'll talk about whatever you are thinking about? cause by the look of your face, it's something that has been bothering you hm?."
peter thought about it for a while, but he really didn't have to. it was about time for him to tell you how he feels. he just hoped that you feel the same way.
your mom brought the two of you dinner to your room, you thanked her before she left and urged peter to eat. "pete?"
"yeah," he cleared his throat, "um i don't really know how to start this."
"it's okay, you can take as much time as you want, i'll be here," you said as you take a spoonful of the dinner.
that's also another thing about you that made his feelings even more clear. you never pushed him. always waiting for him to be ready.
"i like someone," he started. you stopped what you were doing and turn your focus fully on him. your heart felt like it has been crushed. "i know we never talk about y'know- this kind of stuff together but the thing is, i like her so much maybe i even love her, i don't know yet though cause i don't really know how love feels- but i sure do like her a lot."
"and does she know this?"
"no... but she knows now" peter answered, hoping that you'd get what he meant.
"what do you mean?"
peter sighed looking down at his lap, "well she's my best friend. my only friend actually. i really really want to be more than friends with them because she is everything to me. i smile every morning because i know i will see them later that day. i spent most of my time thinking about the two of us together. and you know just how worried i was when they didn't go to school because she was sick."
"peter-" you warned him.
"y/n, listen to me-"
"peter please don't," you whispered. you thought you would be jumping and giggling if peter ever confessed to you but instead it's the complete opposite. you don't want this. you can't have this no matter how much of you wanted him.
peter's eyes were brimming with emotion, shiny tears fighting their way not to roll down. "you don't feel the same do you?"
you wanted to say yes. yes you feel the same, you like him so much and that's what you're so worried about. "peter it's not that easy. we- we can't," you shook your head.
peter's brows knitted together, he was bitting the insides of his lower lip. "that's ok. i'll just go home now. i'm sorry for making things weird yeah? just forget everything i said. tomorrow is a new day." he forced a smile before he is out the door.
just like what peter has said 'tomorrow is a new day' so you acted like yesterday never happened. you walked into school, seeing peter by his locker. you smiled at him. "morning!"
"morning, y/n," peter said back, voice cracking.
"let's go to class," you suggested.
through out the day everything was just like how it used to be. you still sit besides each other. still eat lunch together. everything was the same... except that peter can't look at you for more than three seconds and you two don't talk as much anymore.
peter still walked you home, though there is no goodbye hug.
you wondered if you had made the wrong decision. what if you just accept your feelings and let peter in? but the thoughts of ever, god forbid, breaking up with him is what makes you back away from accepting his love.
you love peter so much. more than you can ever say. in a world of boys he's a gentleman. he proved so today. even after getting rejected and having his own heart torn into pieces, he still walked you home.
the next day though, peter seemed to be avoiding you.
you tried to come to him several times but he just gives you short replies. you couldn't blame him. he has every right to do so.
it has been two weeks since. you missed your peter so much. you missed his cheeky smile. his science jokes. his laugh that never fails to make you smile.
sure you can live without peter parker, but would it be as exciting? would you let the only person that knows you best slipped away like that just because you pretend to not return his feelings?
it was such an emotional rollercoaster. on one hand you want to wake up beside peter, but on the other you worried that he'll realize that he's better alone so you'd break up. you want to cuddle up next to him, but you fear he'll get sick of you and break up.
why does every intimate thought of him always ends up with breaking up?
you tried to bottle up your feeling until you can't anymore. so here you are now, knocking at his door.
he opened up, looking as tired as one can be. now that you really look at him, you notice his beautiful freckles that doted all over his nose and cheeks, his smile lines around his eyes, his pretty eyes that you love so much. even in his exhausted state he still looked so- so perfect.
"y/n? what're you doing here?" peter spoke.
"i want to talk to you." you mumbled, looking down at the pavement.
peter was silent. complete silence.
"i want to tell you that i do like you too, peter. i was just being dumb because you're my best friend for years and if we ever get together, what will happen when we break up? i don't want to lose you. so by pushing my feelings aside i can just continue like nothing happened... but i can't stop thinking about how i have hurt you. i completely denied and hurt your feelings and i can't forgive myself for that."
peter put a warm hand over your shoulder, rubbing his thumb back and forth.
"it's fine. if you don't want this then we don't have to." he said.
"but i want this."
"you do?"
"yes but-," you took a deep breath, "but what if we broke up?"
peter shook his head at that, "we haven't even got together yet and you're thinking of breaking up?"
"it's not funny."
"y/n look at me, i love you. i will not let that happen. and if you really think about it, what is there to be the reason of our break up?"
"i don't know something might come up."
"we know everything about each other, we understand each other. if there's something, i'm so so sure we can work it out," peter placed a hand on your cheek, forehead touching.
"really think so?"
"of course," he replied. "i'm also sorry for saying that so suddenly. i should've known better."
"it's okay peter, we're here."
"yeah we are, and we are not leaving each other yeah?"
"promise," you said.
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fr3akho3 · 7 months
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Stuck in a sticky situation
Kinktober day 1: Tied up
Warnings: Tied up, use of nickname ‘Drac’ ‘Draculara’ ‘Princess’, Boyfriend! Peter Parker, Established relationship, Fem! Upset! Reader, slight angst, fluff at the end, after care, slut calling, praise, SoftDom! Peter Parker, Tied webbed to bed
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You were having a hard enough day already, everything was off schedule and you were stressed, you were already 14 minuets late to your boyfriend, Peter Parker's, house, your phone had died, and you were not in the mood for mid-day New York traffic.
After 20 more wonderful minutes of Queens traffic you arrive to his apartment, buzzing him then heading up.
As soon as Peter opens the door to you, you collapse in to his warm arms, a comforting smell of cinnamon that he knew you liked so much filling your nostrils.
"You miss me, Drac?" He laughs out, stroking gently on the back of your head. You only let out a quick nod, not caring to step out of the doorway. "You tired, bad day?" You nod softly, a tear trickling down your cheek, the familiar lump in your throat bobbing back up. "Let's go to my room, Draculara, yeah?"
You both lay on Peter's bed, not saying anything, just holding one another peacefully, softly kissing every once in a while.
"You want anything to eat? I can't cook or bake but I own an air fryer? I'm sure I can make something you'd like in there?" Peter says; gently sitting up and placing your head comfortably on his thighs, stroking your soft hair, feeling fuzzy against his callous finger tips.
"Oh my god, dude, you know what would be so good right now? Fuckin' crinkle cut fries, they’re so good, you should make us some," You say smiling happily. "Please, Peter?" You beg happily, to your boyfriend's dismay he gets up and heads to his kitchen but not without turning around and lifting you out of his bed, he places an arm around you, walking you and himself to the kitchen, he pulls out a chair for you and goes to his freezer, getting the fries out as you pull your phone out.
"Drac? Who you texting?" He says; a tinge of jealousy pangs in his voice along with curiosity, as he goes on his toes to try and see.
"No one, i'm putting music on, Pete." You say, smiling as you hear the jealousy in his voice, knowing you would and could never see another person in the same way you love, or even like, him.
"What song, you thinking, bug?" He smiles at you, his smile lines were your favorite.
"Mm Pretty girls make graves, Love songs on the radio, or Luna?" You ask him looking up from your phone.
"I have no idea what songs those are, so you pick." He says, ogling over you just sitting there.
"Luna's a Smashing Pumpkin songs, and Pretty girls make graves is The Smiths, and then Love songs on the radio's Mojave 3" You state like it was the most common thing on the world.
"I'm sorry, Mojave 3?" He says checking on the fries, making sure they're cooking fine and not burning.
"Yeah, good band, promise."
"Put Love songs on the radio, whatever you pick'll sound good" You put on love songs on the radio, the soft melody filling yours and his eardrums as you stare at each other, content with the love you have for one another.
The fries finish and you sit peacefully with each other, the fries sat and watching from an oval bowl, you've both found your way to Peter's bed, eating and watching Hocus-Pocus on his laptop.
"He's cute," you say not thinking about it about Max from Hocus Pocus
"No he's not, he's probably ugly and old now." Peter says getting defensive which gets you smiling
"Peter, I think your beautiful."
"You do, Drac? You promise?" He says looking away, he's aware it's corny and sappy but he doesn't ignore his feelings.
"Yeah...I do, promise." You say softly, kiss between his forehead and hairline.
Peter kisses your lips softly, devouring your saliva like it was The Body of Christ, worshipping your every movement.
Those few kisses lead to you straddling his lap, he kisses your forehead as you go for his neck and collarbone, leaving small bites and hickeys all over.
"You know...May's working a 10 hour shift...we have a lot of time...only if you wanna..." He stuttered through every word, it wouldn't be your first time together intimately and certainly not last, but Peter was always respectful and careful to avoiding breaking boundaries and such.
"Mm a lot of time to do what?" You said intoxicatingly, the way your voice sounded induced him further, the apples of his cheeks growing red.
"You know...get together..." He said shyly; his pale face turning a light pink
"Oh yeah?" You say teasingly, not wanting to let the moment end.
"Yeah..." He says getting red. "Can we try something...new...together?" He suggests rather sheepishly
"Like what?" Yoh look at him with those beautiful eyes he loves so much
"Well it's October, Halloween season, and I have webs..."
"Whatcha suggesting, Pete?" You say brushing your hands through out parts of his hair
"Wanna tie you up...web you to the bed..." he says hiding his face in the crook of your neck
"What? Can't hear you?" You tease him further.
"Wanna tie you up and let me fuck you," he says louder, still hiding his face in your neck, leaving soft kisses.
"Do it then, pussy." You laugh softly out; teasing the poor boy to his wits end.
"Oh yeah? You gonna be a good girl and let me?"
"Please" You say looking into his eyes
"Want me to tie you up and fuck you? Yeah? Oh yeah?" He whispers; hesitating to go on
"Fuck, yeah, Pete. I need you" you breathe out, staring at him from on top of his lap.
He slides his shirt off, taking your shirt off of you as well, leaving you in only a bra. He lifts you off his lap and puts you sat back on his bed, elbows propped up beneath you. He soon slides down your pants revealing underwear.
"You look perfect, you know that? Gonna take such good care of you" He says grabbing the Vaseline from his bedside table, rubbing it softly on your wrists.
He gets up and grabs his web shooters you whimper as both your hands are webbed to his bed frame
He's careful to pull your bra above your soft and tender boobs carefully. He takes his callus hands spreading one knee to the side then soon the other, he smiles up at you at your slick spreads with your folds.
He massages around your nipples as you whimper, he brushes your cheek with his other hand, inserting his finger inside, stretching you with your slick
"That feel good ,baby, tell me when you want me, okay?"
"O-okay! I want you now, please! I need you, Parker" you beg, vulnerably.
"I'm gonna put it in, alright?" He says softly; pushing your hair out of your face as you nod rapidly.
He's hardened dick slowly teases your entrance, making sure to go slow not wanting to harm you. He's cold hands grabbing onto your hips, his palms cupping your ass and back of your thighs, while his thumb strokes the inside of your thighs, holding them apart.
His tip enters, he pulls in and out a few times trying to feel you out; leaving you whimpering for more.
He's soft to make sure he isn't hurting you; wanting your pleasure as much as his.
He goes all the way in, earning a grown from both of you. His moan was long and relieving.
“Parker, please, start moving.” You beg, your legs crossed around his hips, your hands gripping at the webbing.
“Be patient, Draculara, s’gonna take good care of you, yeah? You gonna be my good girl?” He teases, slowly moving his hips in and out. “Look at You? My pretty girl, all spread for me, all naked, tied up. Fuck I need you”
He pulls all the way out and slams back in, letting out a lewd moan, you whimper as your knees clamp against his waist.
“Fuck! Parker! Please, go harder, please baby?” You squirm and he lightly pinches at your nipple, caressing the other between his hand
“No, keep ‘em open for me, princess, or I swear I’ll stop.” He goes all the way out, leaving his tip in as he slams his hips in and out. “Yeah? You good princess- ah- fuck- you see how hard I am for you? Fuck- y-you see how my cock fucks you?” His hands Go to your waist, moving you up and down on his cock as he goes in and out.
“Fuck! Parker! Please, I’m begging you! Fuck me harder! Please Parker! Fuck- I need you- I want everyone to know I’m yours and I need you so badly, please, baby?” You beg, trying to move your hands; he lets out a chuckle watching you suffer as one finger goes to your clit and the other on your waist.
“I know, Princess, your doing so good for me, yeah? Just keep going for me, your gonna feel so much pleasure, s’yeah?” He goes faster, the lewd sounds of his moans filling the room, as you bite at your cheek, concealing the sounds of your loud moans.
“You feel so good in me- babe- babe! Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop, please! I- I- I- need you, please baby” you beg your knees clenching together, Peter looks down at you as he stops.
“What’d I say Princess? Spread ‘em Draculara. Maybe I’ll eat you out later if your good, okay? C’mon Princess be a good girl for me and spread ‘em legs?” He’s careful to not mess up your hair as he strokes your cheek
“I-I’m sorry, please, Peter, keep going?” You smile at him as he begins rubbing your clit, ghosting on top of it.
“I’m gonna start going, yeah?” He’s quick to put his cock back in, going slow at first, before putting it all in you, he quickly pulls out leaving just the tip before slamming all of him back in, not giving you time to adjust before fucking you faster then ever, while rubbing your clit with his callus fingers.
“You want it? Mm- yeah princess? You’ll have it. All of it, fuck- all of me. Oh- oh- fuck- mm” deep inhales leave his body, you hear his heavy breathing, his hand leaving your waist and going to your stomach, pressing down to see how far he is, making you go crazy
“Fuck, I love all of you in me, you’re so good to be, Parker, wanna see you cum, wanna see you cum in me, please- Fuck! I- I- I can take it, all of you. I promise.” You whimper out, your back arching forward as your squirm and yell out sinful moans.
“Mm- fuck- Drac- your driving me fuckin crazy- I’m so close- I’m so close- oh- oh- oh! Yeah! Fuck! I love you- princess fuck! Oh yeah? You really love me? Yeah? You gonna let me fuck you? Oh princess…oh fuck, oh what did I do to- ah- deserve this pretty pussy! Mm- please!” He goes faster, you can see this thigh muscles flexing , his cock twitching inside you with every movement.
“Oh- oh- oh! Please! F-fuck! Fuck me! Parker, please, I’m so in love with you, I’m so so in love with you. I need you! I need more of you! I need more of you in me!” You beg as you grind for any friction left.
“Drac- f-fuck! Your tiddies s’beautiful. Wanna suck on ‘em, can I? Please, oh- oh! Please baby let me suck on ‘em while I fuck you and hear your pretty m-moans?” He leans down and takes your boob in his mouth, swirling the warmth of his tongue on your erect nipple.
“Parker! Wanna cum with you! Please let me cum with you! P-please, oh! Oh! F-fuck, oh…oh…you’re so good to me, baby!” You whimper out grasping the webs as your hips lift off the bed.
“Princess- oh Drac! O-oh! Fuck- s’you…you slut…you are just so desperate for me, aren’t ya? You love this cock hard and deep in you? Look at you, didn’t even b-bother! F-fuck-to take your bra off fully, what kind of slut- oh- fuck! Can’t even wait to take her bra off!” He slams deeper within you, hitting the spongey spot that makes you feel so good, he goes up from your chest and leaves hickeys on your collar and moans into your mouth.
He slams his hips, bruising his bones at your entrance. He knows he’s close and he’s hoping you are too. He needs you to cum around his hard and veiny cock.
“F-fuck, my beautiful, smart girl, I’m so in- l-love with you babe! Fuck, can I cum in your pretty pussy, Drac? Pretty please, babe?” He begs with his brown doe eyes.
You don’t stop him, your mouth left agape from everything, his hands on your clit, one on your waist, his mouth against your neck. Soon the feeling of him warm, gooey, seamen fills you and he fucks it into you, it all becomes to much, his screams and yours fill the room.
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Don’t stop! Fuck me! Please! I’m cumming! I’m cumming! I’m cumming! Please, Parker! I love you!” You screams, your out of breathe and sweaty as his pace slows down, he kisses your cheek before slowly pulling out, being careful at his tip.
“S’You did so good for me, yeah? So good my princess. Was I Good for you?” He asks, kissing you and getting up, graving a warm wash cloth and wiping his cum out of you, careful to not hurt your tender cunt.
“Thank you, baby. You did so good, I love you.” He kisses you again. He gets an anti-web fluid and sprays it on your wrist, kissing them as he gets your wrists out.
“Wanna shower then cuddle? I wanna get you cleaned up, Drac” he says, rubbing Vaseline over the places where the webs had left purple and red. “S’My pretty pretty girl.”
“Yeah, shower then cuddle sounds good, thank you baby.” He sure you up and kisses your nipples then you, carrying you bridal to the bathroom, where you two were sure to have more fun.
Authors note: how we feeling about my first kinktober?
Tag-list:
@thedevax @tpaints @parkersmjs @eefeefeefeef12345 @whenisthefall @andr3wgarfieldsupremacist @blossoming-cee @d3adp00ls @aliengirl99 @just-levyy @nixxaswrld @mentallysickphysicallythicc @isretroavibe @olivezgalore @jakobsdump @crypticbutterfly5 @practicallylivesonline @did-someone-change-my-name @80pairsofcrocs
Comment to be added (will be posting tomorrows teaser shortly)
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shayyprasad · 3 months
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faults | peter parker
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summary: peter's a nice guy, you liked him. key word being liked.
warning: non-con, slut-shaming (no nsfw/smut)
pairing: dark!peter x fem!reader
word count: 1.4k+ words (i've never done dark!peter before, just playing around with the idea)
check out my masterlist!
this can technically be read as either a 2nd part to this, or a stand-alone!
if you want to be added to the taglist, let me know!
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(first person)
loud music drummed in my ears as narrowly avoided people. if i'm being honest, i'm not quite sure why i agreed to this in the first place.
aliyah, my best friend of seven years, was dead-set on planning a party for me. what type of person would i be to let her down like that? so naturally, i agreed, right?
only now was i regretting this.
the thing is, when she said "party", i thought she meant a couple people. maybe some school friends. i thought that spencer, this guy i just recently started going out with would be there too, but he's just ghosted me. like completely.
i haven't heard from him or anything, sucks, kinda.
...peter. he'd was coming, too.
i wasn't sure what was going on between us. it was subtle flirting, and i thought it was platonic. don't get me wrong, i really did like him at first, but now i'm not sure.
yeah, he's hot. but also not my type. granted, i don't really have a type, though i do think we'd be better off as friends. also, he wasn't the same as he used to be. and i know something's changed, even if i can't pinpoint what it is.
but lately, i'm not sure if we're on the same page about that. everyone thinks we're dating, because apparently you can't be just friends with a guy.
i'm genuinely unsure how to break that to him.
we did try one date, if you could even call it that. peter took me to the movies, but he never quite clarified what it was.
technically, i was a minor at that time, so maybe it was a friendly thing.
it didn't matter though, i told him that i wasn't interested in him. also... spencer, right?
spencer was a guy i'd been talking to, and i won't lie, he's pretty cute. 
i don't know. i try not to think about it because it makes my brain hurt. so, uh, yeah. that's that.
lost in my ever loving train of thoughts, i wasn't watching where i was going, and i ran into someone.
not just someone.
peter, of all people. the one guy i was trying to avoid.
lovely. absolutely lovely.
"heyyy, birthday girl! how's the party?"
"uh. yeah, it's... awesome," i winced.
"not your scene? okay, but, like, bright side?" he paused, as if he were waiting for me to say something, but when i didn't, he continued. "you're a legal adult! not a minor anymore, right?"
he had this unusual twinkle in his eye, like there was more to unpack. peter pulled me close to him, chugging wherever it was in the red solo cup he had in his hand.
pete's hand... was lower than comfortable, but i figured it was best not to say anything.
it was obvious he was totally out of it, and i inhaled sharply at the sharp stench of alcohol.
"wanna get out of here?" he asked, gripping me harder.
"um..." i wasn't sure what he was implying, because he literally could. not. take me anywhere.
"c'mon."
"wait, i—"
too late. i was already being dragged out the door. pete brought me out in front of his car... well, his old truck.
"no, no, no. you're way too drunk to drive, peter. you aren't taking me anywhere."
he groaned, rolling his eyes. "buzzkill."
i inhaled sharply, stopping myself from getting upset. he wouldn't normally do something like this... right?
"all right, fine, fine," he slurred. "h-how about... ooh! let's go to my place!"
i hesitated, unsure of how comfortable i felt with that. especially since he'd been so weird, with all the touching. i knew that he didn't live in a dorm and—
wait, what?
no, no. peter and i were friends, and i could trust him, right? it could have been the alcohol that was making the edges of my brain turn fuzzy, but i finally agreed.
"um, okay."
"mm. it's like..." pete hiccuped, and mentally facepalmed. "somewhere here."
"you're lucky i know the way, dummy." i said, smacking his head. he did nothing but grin back at me.
we walked in silence, or i did really, while he babbled on about the most random things. i didn't mind it, considering he was drunk.
it was chilly outside, and the cold air nipped at my skin, making me shiver. peter must have noticed this, because he swung a hand over my shoulders, lazily pulling me close.
i thought it best not to say anything, and also, he was warm. so, i guess i wasn't complaining all that much.
eventually, we got to his place. he fumbled with the keys, trying to shove it into the lock. unsuccessfully, might i add.
getting tired, i took them from him, unlocking the door.
"there we go." i pushed him inside, shutting the door behind me. "how about we get you come water?" peter didn't argue as i pulled open a cabinet, grabbing a cup. i filled it up with water for him and handed it over.
"drink it. all of it."
"yes, mom."
it seemed like that helped him sober up slightly, and i flopped down on the couch. that party had exhausted me altogether. peter was quiet as he sat down next to me, rubbing his eyes.
he looked over at me, but i kept my eyes fixed at the tv in front. i was flipping though channels, trying to find something good.
"look at me," he whispered.
i sucked in a breath, turning my head to do so, "yeah?"
and then, that's when it happened. so quickly and roughly, i didn't even register it. because one second we were face to face, and the next, he was grabbing my face, kissing me.
instantly, i pulled away, looking at him in horror. "what the fuck, peter? you can't— you can't do that!"
"do what?" he stared dumbly.
i just blinked at him, confused. "i..."
he kissed me, without consent. that wasn't okay, right? peter just looked at me, raising an eyebrow. was this because he was drunk?
"well, i- you just kissed me?"
"so? i thought you were chill. besides, you were basically asking for this."
what did he mean? asking for it? i wasn't asking for anything. i didn't even like him like that, and i thought he knew that. well, i mean, i was pretty sure. kind of. 
"b-but i wasn't." i was trying to make my voice more firm, but it probably (most likely) sounded very pathetic. clearing my throat, i tried again, "peter, i don't like you that way. as a friend, of course, but not... not more than that. this one time it's okay, since i guess it's also on me for not making that clear."
"don't like me that way? are you serious?"
"well-"
"you come around, to my house, dressed in that, and you expect me to think we're just friends? i did you the favor of waiting until you were 'of legal age' and all that crap, so what the fuck are you on about?"
"pe-"
"you've literally been sleazing around like a slut, practically begging for attention."
no, he was reading this wrong. i met him at the cafe i worked at, and we hit it off. as friends. besides, he was older than me. well, not by much, but still. and what did he mean by "slut"? it was my birthday party! that i didn't even want to be at! peter was the one who invited me here, right?
"and, on top of that, you've been leading me on. now that's fucked up."
"leading-? yes, okay, maybe a little. and- and i'm really sorry about that, but-" i backed up into the couch, trying to move away from him.
"i love you, y/n/n. and," he scoffed, "and i can treat you way better then any of these other guys."
love? he loves me? how- we've only known each other for a couple months. 
i thought, if anything, this was platonic flirting. was this really my fault?
"i think i should go, peter, we can talk later." i was uncomfortable now. no, past that.
i was scared. 
peter was scaring me.
"i'm not into you, and i'm-"
"seeing that other guy?" he finished. "what was his name, again? spencer? ever wonder what happened to him?" there was a dangerous look in his eye, and that's all it took for me to understand.
"oh my god, what did you do?"
"what i needed to," peter pinned my hands above the wall, "i was gonna wait, and do this the nice way, but you've left me with no choice."
"no, please, peter," i choked out, tears streaming down my face. 
"this is your fault, y/n."
and it must have been. i hurt him, so this was only fair. 
right?
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ruewrote · 1 year
Text
𝑑𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚𝑦.
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PAIRING: peter parker x fem!reader WARNINGS: strong language GENRE: idk SONG INSPIRATION: talking body by tove lo WORD COUNT: 738
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you and peter had been laying in his bed for the most part of being at his house. 
rewatching star wars, him telling you the most interesting parts, but as much as you were listening, you couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that your face was pressed against his pecs.
occasionally glancing up as he speaks down towards you, trying to keep a good poker face, but were most definitely freaking out on the inside.
pete sat up a little bit which made you pull away a little bit making you feel a bit disappointed.
“y/n! you there dude?” he chuckled whilst waving his hand in your face. snapping you back into reality as if you weren’t just fantasying about your best friend’s washboard abs. no, of course not.
“yeah-yeah i’m totally fine!” your words coming out rushed and stuttered as you settled back onto his chest and resumed the episode.
your love for your best friend’s abs were becoming a problem. 
no like seriously!
last week you guys had gym together, you had been holding his feet down as he he did sit ups whilst talking to each other, but you kept spacing out since his abs were poking through his shirt each time he sat up.
trying to look anywhere but him, your eyes locked onto another pair who had caught you in the act. ned. he just smirked at you and then looked back over to his partner and carried on working out.
you squeezed your eyes shut in embarrassment waiting for the class to be over and hoped that your other best friend wouldn’t open his mouth.
it had been about two weeks since the absolutely soul-destroying moment happened to you in the gym, ned hadn’t said anything about it to peter, but that didn’t stop him from teasing you about it.
“dude, you have a bad staring problem.” ned laughed at you as you kicked his shin before you shoved your face in your hands as you leant your elbows on the cafeteria table, shaking your head. knowing he would never let you live this down.
“i seriously don’t know what’s wrong with me lately, i had one thought about him and now they won’t stop coming, especially about his abs, like what’s wrong with me?” you fake cried and he just laughed at you.
“wait i have an idea.” ned had called peter over after he had gotten his food, making his way over to you two.
“what are you doing?” you whispered yelled over to him before putting on your best fake smile acting normal.
peter was now standing behind you - raising his eyebrow in confusion.
“can you flex really quick for me?” kind of used to ned geeking out over the fact that he was spiderman didn’t really surprise that he would ask that, sliding his tray onto the table, his hands slowly rolling his sleeves before doing so.
that’s when he did it, this had you floored. the vein in his bicep pulsing, your eyes skimmed over to his forearms which were now even thicker now that the muscles were tensed.
not to mention his abs were blatantly pressed against his white under shirt right in your face, peter had now brought his arms down, sitting beside you and started eating without question. you turned back around to the table before picking at the food on your own plate.
the guys spoke to each other back and forth about some school project that they were working on together. you were quiet trying to process what had just happened, the brunette turned towards you, it was odd for you to be so quiet.
cursing your shortness. your face was always pressed into his torso as you guys shared a hug. that’s when you had acknowledged it every time he’d wrap you up in his arms.
you’d had enough of his oblivious teasing and were going to do something about it, so as he was about to leave you...
“hey pete, can you wait a second i need to see something.” he of course had no problem with agreeing.
that’s when you had grasped the hem of his shirt and raised it, as you expected you were met with rock hard abs, running your hand over them, giving him an approved ‘hm’ and pulling it back down again and sent his confused self home, wondering what the fuck just happened.
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© ruewrote.
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respectthepetty · 3 months
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Pit Babe Colors Ep. 12 The Black Parade Episode
I'm challenging myself with this show and seeing how good my color skills really are, so I'm doing my normal thing of watching it double-speed on mute, but now, the captions are off also. It's just colors and vibes here. Y'all done told be EVERYTHING, so I know the entire plot now.
THAT WAS A TEAR! KENTA IS CRYING!
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I thought it wasn't just sweat last week but knowing he is actually crying as he thinks about their past did immediate damage to me, and now they are ALL standing there in the dark with Way and Pete highlighted by the blue, and, and, and . . . Kentana are you gonna die? You and Waymond are stressing me the fuck out!
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Now that I know they are both enigmas, I can't see them the same. Are they using their superpowers on each other right now? Are they reading each other's minds? Are they trying to figure out how to get Kentana back, so they can make this poly?
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Kentana, how many times are you going to have this man spit in your face before you realize that he ain't shit? Go to your room, turn on Billie Eilish's "Happier Than Ever" and really hear it. "Never told anyone anything bad cause that shit's embarrassing. You were my everything, and all that you did was make me fucking sad."
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The blue keys in front of the red product placement is all I need to be reminded that this show refuses to allow me peace.
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Shocking absolutely fucking nobody, Kentana did not listen to "Happier Than Ever"
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And now someone is gonna die because there are only so many ways for you and Waymundo to redeem yourselves, and if you have Jeffrey in all black, I'm worried it's gonna be your funeral we will be planning next, Kentana.
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There is one episode left and I am death gripping the one time Vegas' Hedgehog wore blue because I will never get it again. I hate them.
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Real question: Is Barbie pregnant? I know he is sad Charles is "dead" *eye roll* but he is taking pills, getting fruit thrown at him, and staring out into space. I would love to believe he is going through his Edward-left-Bella-so-she-was-super-duper-sad era, but now that I know pregnancy is on the table, that's all I can see.
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Oh, thank goodness! Someone actually has a tracker on his phone! But Kimberly has been kidnapped, caught up in human trafficking, and is now beating up children. Bro, what was your life before it all went to shit? Do you ever call your mom and tell her these are your friends now? Are you even still racing? Nevermind. Go catch those kids.
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The problem with black is the shades. Waymond's jacket looks green. Peter's pants look blue. And yet it still feels like we are preparing for a funeral. A real one this time. Not fake like someone else's *cough* Charles *cough*
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Kentana, are you betraying Jeffrey as Big Red watches? Or are you asking him how Peter's been? Has he been well, without you? Is he dating anyone? What is his status with Way? Well, Jeffrey wouldn't know, but Peter x Waymond could be poly if you get out of that fucking house and stop kidnapping people!
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Going from Kentana in that House of Horrors to Pete looking like this makes me understand why Kentana is out there kidnapping people. I'd feel some type of way too if my childhood crush looked like this and was getting chummy with a dude who looked like Way Way. Damn.
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What the hell is this?! The cover of a boy band album? A meeting to discuss poly? The Thai version of Barbie where Ken(tana) explains why he won't leave the Mojo Dojo Casa House? AND WHY ARE ALL OF YOU WEARING BLACK?! Someone is gonna die.
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Did Big Red know Kentana went to see Barbie and the other Kens?! Was he sent there by Big Red?! Kentana is really breaking my heart on his knees hugging this man like this. I want to slap Kentana all the time, but I also want to hug him and tuck him into bed with a moon nightlight calmly lighting up the room.
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Let's stick him in a video game, so he can learn to love himself.
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Push him down the stairs, Kentana! Do it. PLEASE! Shoulder check his ass at least.
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Oh Lord, NO! Waymond, do not take a fucking bullet for anyone. You canNOT die by Whiny Winifred's bullet. I refuse to let you go out like that. You finally used your powers for good, but this is not the time to die.
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Y'ALL DIDN'T EVEN GRAB THE BAG!
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This is Mission Kim Possible all over again! How do you not grab the damn bag?! Waymundo looks so damn good in his suit, so thank God he is still alive, but what the fuck guys?! One job! SECURE. THE. BAG.
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I hate how good everyone looks in black because I keep swinging through emotions. I'm terrified for everyone yet very attracted to everyone. All the guys connected to Big Red have been in black this episode regardless if it was their color or not, so I'm hoping that means the funeral will be Big Red's.
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A cult meeting, in this economy? Villains make the dumbest decisions.
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Waymond has some white on . . . over black. Please Mary, mother of God, do not let him do something stupid.
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Alan, did you just say "eff them kids"? No. Not my Alan. He'll be back for them. Right. Right?
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Peter is gonna Regina George his way into this Halloween party that he was not invited to just to cause some havoc. Mad respect.
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WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE?!
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How the hell did Charles get there?! Did Barbie's dad tell him to go to the cult meeting? Dressed like that though? Did his spidey sense go off? So many questions, but all I know is Kentana better let them go, so he doesn't have to die.
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Whiny Winifred better not get better at aiming in the final episode because I still need both of these two to wear blue TOGETHER.
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WAYMOND, NO!!!!!!!!!!
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Good to know it only took being kidnapped twice and (possibly) someone dying for Jeffrey to finally commit to the blue.
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My nerves are wrecked. There was too much black this episode. Someone is going to die, and as much as I want it to be Big Red, I just don't feel good that Kentana is still on his bullshit, and Waymond keeps jumping in front of guns. Peter needs both of his boyfriends to live.
Also, Barbara, I already know you are immediately going to hug Charles next week, instead of having a moment to be pissed all the way off at him like you should be, so I'm going to start meditating on that right now. I've been mad at Charles the entire season, so I'll hold this grudge for both of us in the finale.
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buckyseddie · 8 months
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always hold you
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pairings — tasm!peter parker x bff/gf!fem!reader
summary — in which, she needs her boyfriend's support more than anything else, after another particularly bad fight with her father.
word count — 2.6k.
warnings — a little bit of angst, use of pet-names [dove, sweetheart, darling, love, bug], reader calls peter pete, lots of fluff and this is basically just a hurt/comfort fic, protective/soft!peter, this is also sort of similar to my other peter fic (take as a part two that one), peter comforting reader, mentions of the reader's low self-esteem issues and it being explained a bit more, both physical and emotional abuse (manipulation and gaslighting, but not from peter), hugs and cuddles, forehead kisses, peter just taking care of the reader and showing her the love that her family refuses to do, gwen is in here for a second and being the comforting platonic best friend that she is to reader, peter comes off as a little harsh and scares reader a little bit but he makes up for it in the end.
notes — hi! so, this is really more of a vent fic. i know i've written in the past about dealing w/ a toxic family member and how i really enjoyed writing fics similar to my experiences with my favorite comfort characters to comfort the reader because that would usually help me deal with everything. but recently, the abuse that me, my mom, and my brother have been experiencing has become a lot more complicated and traumatizing for me to deal with. and things have only gotten worse. so, i figured i'd do another comforting fic like the other peter fic i wrote about going through that said abuse. i really just feel that it's important to not hide my true feelings and act like everything's fine behind a screen and i just want to be able to talk about this topic a lot more (especially in my writing), because it's so serious and not nearly talked about enough. but, nonetheless, if there's anyone out there that sees this and is a victim of abuse (whether it's emotional/mental or physical abuse, or both) please don't feel obligated to read this. i really don't want to trigger or upset anyone who's dealing with this situation in a very heavy and overwhelming way. just remember though, no matter what anyone says or does to you, you ARE strong and deserve the entire world. i love you all <3. anyways, i hope this makes up for the lack of posting anything (i've been really struggling with a lot, but i'm trying!). gif and divider creds to owner!
p.s., feedback is very much encouraged and appreciated <3.
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IT'S OBVIOUS NOW THAT SHE was stupid to think that he could change. it was even more stupid of her to go back to that apartment.
but, she's always been one to see the best in people — in her case, it's come to bite her in the ass.
even now, as she awaits her boyfriend to return home from his nightly patrol around the city, [y/n] knows that she should've known better.
she trembles as she sits on their shared bed, one of her legs bouncing anxiously — the thought of how peter will react to her foolish decision and the outcome from it is stressing her out, beyond words.
after how he responded the first time he found out about the truth about her father's cruelty and what she'd had to go through, she's worried of how he will react this time — it took almost everything in him to not confront her father, when he first found out.
she abruptly jumps when she hears the front door of the apartment shut softly.
a shaky breath leaves her lips, wondering if it's too late to try to hide the marks on her face and body.
but, when she hears him call out her name from the living room, she knows that it's too late — there's nothing she can do now to hide this.
and even if she wanted to for a split second, she promised peter she'd never lie to him again — after the last time, they promised each other that they'd never hide anything from the other again.
so, with another shaky breath, [y/n] sighs and hesitantly pulls the bedroom door open.
she keeps her head down, her hair falling around her face and covering the marks as she walks out and into the living room.
"sweetheart..." peter's voice trails off, eyes wide with shock and worry.
her breath catches in her throat as soon as she finally looks up at her boyfriend and sees the intense, protective look in his eyes.
"i—i'm sorry, peter." she whispers, voice too raspy to get any louder.
a flash of anger fills his eyes. "please... tell me that you didn't go back to him!" he exclaims in a quieter tone of voice as he pinches the corner of his eyes.
[y/n] flinches at the amount of frustration in his voice.
"peter, i—i'm sorry... " her voice trembles, guilt and regret quickly filling her — she just feels so stupid.
peter sighs, regretting taking his anger out on her.
his eyes immediately soften. "sweetheart, i'm sorry." he murmurs, before starting to walk over to her.
but, before he can reach her, she flinches and winces.
he stops short, freezing in place. more guilt fills him as he realizes that in this moment, she's scared of him.
"look... i—i know that i shouldn't have gone back," she whispers, tears clouding her eyes as she remembers the anger and hatred in her father's eyes.
peter's silent for a moment, waiting and giving her time to explain more — if she's able to.
"i'm... i'm so stupid, peter." she whispers, too ashamed to talk any louder.
peter's eyes widen in shock, not expecting that statement to come out of her mouth. "w—what? darling, that's not true."
this time, a tear falls down her cheek. "yes, i am. peter, who's stupid enough to choose to believe that their abusive, monster-of-a-father can change? me — it's me!"
the rambling and the self-loathing words coming out of his girlfriend's mouth becomes incredibly clear to peter as he walks over to her.
this time now, he doesn't hesitate to pull her into his chest as her voice becomes more trembling and wavering, "this is on me — it's my fault."
"it's okay now, love. don't blame yourself." he murmurs as she stops holding herself back and breaks into breathless sobs into his chest.
after a while, her crying slows and quiets down with her tears now dried on her cheeks.
she faces him and takes in a deep, calming breath as he wipes away the remaining tears away and looks over her bruises more intensely.
"i wanna kill him for doing this to you — again." the venom in his tone sends shivers through her spine — knowing what he would do to protect her comforts her.
but, on the other hand, she also knows that hurting her father isn't going to do anything for them or fix anything.
"no, peter. i know you don't mean that." she murmurs seriously.
an angry frown places itself over his lips. "no, i do."
she sighs. "okay, maybe you do. but, it won't fix anything and we both know that," she says, moving one of her fingers up to smooth out the crease in between his very furrowed eyebrows.
"it's okay now — i'm okay." she whispers seriously, grabbing his hand and rubbing soothing circles over his thumb.
you'd think from how she's comforting him that peter was the one that got hurt, not her — that's just how she is; she always finds herself taking care of everyone else, when she really should be taking care of herself.
maybe that's why they're such a good pair — while they're taking care of everyone else and their loved ones, they can trust the other to take care of the other.
"that's the thing, love. it's not okay! you shouldn't have to go out of your way to avoid him, just to protect yourself." he exclaims, ripping his hand out of hers and this time pacing around the living room with his hand now gripping his hair in frustration.
she sighs, frowning — this is exactly why she didn't want to tell him because she hates worrying him like this.
"it may not be fair, but if it's what i have to do to protect myself, then that's what i'll do — i should've kept doing that, instead of being an idiot to believe he'd change." she admits, shrugging, trying to play this all off, as if it's not that big of a deal.
"don't say that — don't do that!" he abruptly yells, turning around to face her defensively.
she flinches — once again — at the volume of his voice. "don't do what?" she asks meekly, her voice too soft.
he sighs in regret. "i'm sorry. i'm not trying to scare you." his eyes are downcast at the floor, before he looks up again, the guilt clear in his irises this time.
"it's okay, peter." she gulps, berating herself for some part of her being afraid of him — after all, she has no reason to fear him because he'd never intentionally hurt her.
"it's not. i shouldn't have gotten so angry — i'm not mad at you, i promise," he says in a much more quiet voice, sighing as he sees that look in her eyes — the one that she always has when she feels like a burden and feels like she should be apologizing.
"sweetheart, don't even think about apologizing. none of this is your fault."
[y/n] sighs in exasperation. "maybe it is. i'm the one that is always making a fool out of myself by believing in the best of everyone."
she sighs when a flash of irritation shows in his eyes. "what?" he whispers, his eyebrows furrowing together.
she takes in another breath when he walks over to her and hesitantly places his hands over her cheeks.
[y/n] sighs again.
"this isn't your fault, love. know that," he murmurs, his eyes searching hers for some kind of understanding. "please, tell me that you know that."
she sighs again, noticing the tears filling his eyes — it becomes incredibly clear to her how much the man in front of her cares about her.
"peter... " her own eyes fill with tears, even spilling to her cheeks.
without another thought, he gently wipes away her tears. "promise me that you understand me."
she sighs again. "y—yes, i understand," she murmurs, hating the hope that fills his eyes. "but, i just don't believe it."
he opens his mouth to object, but she interrupts him before he has the chance to say something, "i want to. but, i can't just shut off the way i feel — i was raised the way i was and with the trauma i have gotten along the way, i can't just forget it."
more tears fills his eyes, before he moves incredibly closer to her and brings her close to kiss her forehead. "knowing you want to believe it is good enough for me."
when he pulls away from her he smiles warmly at her. "let's go cuddle now, yeah?"
the softness in his voice makes her smile. "sounds like a plan, pete." she murmurs with a nod and leads him to their shared room.
once they're inside of their bedroom, [y/n] walks over to their shared bathroom, to change into her set of pajamas she set aside earlier in the day, after she had just gotten back from her father's home — she used to call it her home, but that all changed once her once-very-close relationship with her father changed.
after she changes and brushes her hair and teeth, she takes in a deep breath and tries to mentally prepare herself for the rest of the night.
but, when she shuts off the light and opens the door, she comes to realize that the bedroom is empty.
she walks out of the bathroom and looks around, her eyebrows quickly knitting together in confusion.
and just as she's about to call out her boyfriend's name, she hears hushed voices outside of the room.
with much more confusion filling her body, she slowly walks out of their room and into the living room, only to see peter standing at the door, talking at the door in a hushed voice.
"pete? is everything okay?" she asks as she walks up from behind him.
he jumps a little in surprise, before motioning towards the door.
the blond hair of their current guest surprises her.
"oh, gwen. hi." she greets her best friend and then her boyfriend, wrapping her arms around his waist and leaning into him with her chin resting on his shoulder.
"what are you doing here?"
gwen shrugs. "i just wanted to check up on you — your dad called me, yelling at me because he thought that you'd left to go hide at my apartment."
the words that come out of one of her best friends' mouth shakes [y/n] to her very core — anytime she hears anything about her father, she gets easily nervous and scared.
in a matter of seconds, [y/n] slowly pulls away from her boyfriend's body.
she knows that she should try to pretend everything's fine and as if her friend's words don't affect her, but she can't help it.
if she had a few more seconds, she'd probably fall into a state of mind where she'd completely shut down.
but, when a light touch to her shoulder by peter shakes her out of her daze, she sighs and nervously finds her boyfriend's eyes on her.
"what's going on, guys? did something happen?" gwen asks worriedly after seeing the tense look on [y/n]'s face.
peter doesn't speak. he doesn't even look away from his girlfriend — his eyes simply say that the decision is all hers.
despite the fact that him and gwen are pretty close friends, he's always respected [y/n]'s choices.
with a sigh, [y/n] turns to gwen. "i kind of had a run in with my dad earlier."
as she hears that statement, gwen begins to notice the bruises on her best friend's face.
she frowns. "are you okay?" she asks, but after a moment, she groans and rolls her eyes at herself.
"i'm sorry. that was insensitive — of course you're not okay."
[y/n] laughs, despite the seriousness of the situation. "it's okay."
gwen gives her a pointed look, not believing for one moment that what she asked was okay.
"really, gwen," she says, finding some courage inside of her. "i'm probably not okay. but... " she trails off, suddenly feeling like everything is going to be okay with the ones that truly love her by her side.
"for the first time, i think i'm going to be okay — that everything will be okay." she says confidently, moving even closer to peter and practically burying herself into his arms.
gwen smiles. "good. i'm glad."
—————
AFTER A LITTLE BIT MORE of talking, they all finally say their goodbyes and peter shuts the door gently.
they move over to the couch, peter covering them — mostly [y/n] — with one of the fuzzy throw blankets that was lying over the front of the couch.
"you doing okay?" he asks softly as she lays her face into his neck.
she smiles, feeling reassured for the first time.
she lifts her head back up to look at him.
"i know going back was stupid. i do—" before she can continue, he interrupts her with guilt evident in his brown eyes. —"i'm sorry, bug. for how angry i got earlier."
she tilts her head in confusion. "what do you mean?"
"i shouldn't have gotten upset with you. and i'm sorry for startling you. i was just worried." he murmurs seriously, frowning at her confusion.
"i just... every time i think about your dad being near you or hurting you, well, it drives me crazy, sweetheart." he says, trying to ignore the anger in his voice every time he thinks about the type of person his girlfriend's father is.
"pete... it's okay. i'm not going to go back — i learned my lesson." she says, cupping his jaw with one hand, in order to try to calm him down.
he sighs, leaning into her hand and covering it with one of his own.
"that's the point, sweetheart. you shouldn't have to be cautious and scared to avoid him, so that he doesn't act like that. it's not okay."
she frowns, wishing that she could stop him from worrying.
but, she also knows that he needs to get these feelings out and off of his chest.
"tell me, peter. what is it?" she asks, being the understanding girlfriend that he loves — no matter how cliche that actually sounds.
"i love how good-hearted you are, sweetheart. the way you always see the good in everyone, despite what they've done to you — it's amazing," he starts, pulling her hand away from his jaw to hold over one of his legs.
"and i never want you to stop being that person. but, i also hate that you have to avoid him. you shouldn't have to give up your happiness and peace."
she nods in clear understanding.
he groans again, leaning his forehead over hers.
"it's okay, peter."
he pulls away and opens his mouth to say something in defense, but she stops him by speaking before him, "peter, i know it upsets you that he doesn't get to be punished for his actions and i get that."
he stops short, giving her a chance to finish talking.
"i know you hate that. but, i know that you love me more than any urge that you have to give him what he deserves — and that's what i need you to do, okay? love me more than you hate him." he frowns at her words.
as if noticing his hesitation, she says, "for me. please?"
he sighs in defeat and nods. "fine. for you." he murmurs as he pulls her closer into his embrace and body.
she smiles in victory as she lies her head on his shoulder. "i love you, peter parker. you know that?" she murmurs, cuddling up close to him.
"i know i can always count on you." she says, once more, smiling as he chuckles and stretches over to kiss her on the forehead.
"good. because i love you more and i'll always hold you when you need it, dove." he murmurs, smiling at her calm and at peaceful face.
and like that, they cuddle until they fall asleep with peaceful expressions on their faces.
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Text
Theoretically ~ P.P.
A/n: And another request!!
Request: “Male reader x Andrew Pete, After a long day of thinking about it and wondering if he and Peter were ready, reader proposes?” By anon
Word Count: 1800+
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It had started slowly, but Y/n had realized after it had been going on for a while so it had felt sudden and startling.
First there had been the exact moment kisses between them had become casual. They weren't startling and didn't make him jump, heart racing. Peter would be on his way out the door and would say goodbye, leaving a kiss on Y/n's mouth very quickly before dipping. And that felt right. He'd sink into the feeling, his chest warm, but it wasn't buzzing and burning like it used to be.
Then it was the increased PDA. Peter had always been repressed and reserved, hating attention and confrontation unless he had his mask on. But they'd gotten slowly into the habit of having little to no personal space, and being generally touchy. One day, Peter didn't take Y/n's hand just "to show him something" and then drop it when someone looked over. Another day Y/n stared lovingly as long as he wanted and Peter never made a joke about it. After that, Peter lay his head on Y/n's shoulder on the subway and sighed, relaxed. When they kissed, grinning, on the side walk waiting for the light to change for them Y/n knew it was okay to do that more often.
Those were followed by the casual way Peter referred to Y/n as his boyfriend. Even spoke about "his boyfriend." Before he'd said "partner," brushing it away that he was dating someone of the same gender. He wouldn't use Y/n's name even when people knew who he was talking about. And then one day he introduced Y/n as his boyfriend - something he'd heard later from MJ.
The day it clicked was when Peter got caught up in an especially rough back and forth with Doc Oc, who had kidnapped Y/n in an attempt to hurt Peter. It wasn't the first time it had happened, and the panic afterward had been tangible, but Peter didn't implode like he so often had. He was focused on Y/n, tending to him and reassuring him he was safe. And he didn't blame himself or hate on himself or push Y/n away. It was... startling, honestly, when Peter wrapped around him instead and whispered a simple, "I'm sorry this Spider-Man stuff caught up to you."
Y/n ran his hands through his boyfriend's hair, and realized that he was home to Peter, the same way Peter was home to him. That they couldn't have denied each other even if they wanted to. Even if they'd have tried. They both knew it.
And he smiled, realizing that maybe they hadn't said it yet, but this probably meant they were in love after all. And they'd been in love for a while, so much more than a young romance. They'd be together for a very long time.
"I knew what I was getting into, Peter," he reassured softly. "I know we'll always figure it out. Together." He sighed. "Plus, now you know how I feel every day."
Peter nodded. "That's fair."  And that was it. No argument, no anger, no spiral.
The confession of love had followed soon after.
When Y/n got a succulent and Peter started calling it Jimmy, and referring to them as Jimmy's dad, something settled deeply into Y/n's chest. He wanted to do this forever. He wanted to be with Peter for the rest of his life.
That was a terrifying thought.
Peter had been getting better. A little more grounded, and much more experienced. Every day he was softer with himself. Every day he opened up more, and let Y/n help when he could. Every day he smiled more, laughed more. Every day he showed Y/n off more, being proud they were together and being loud about it too. They moved in together, and after that everything was theirs - not individually Peter's or Y/n's. Like they never had to worry about moving out or going separate ways or breaking up. Like this space was theirs and it always would be, even it it was a different space.
It was the teasing look in May's eyes as she grinned at Y/n over the cup of tea she was drinking that was the last straw. She put her cup down and in a gentle voice, began, "You want to ask me something?"
Y/n blushed. "You saw through me then."
May raised an eyebrow, her smile teasing. "In the years you've been with Peter, your worst fear as been time and again proved to be imposing on me. You only ever come by when I invite you, with Peter, or explicitly to help with something. I've never seen you ask to come over completely unprompted with nothing else in mind but spending time together." She leans back in her chair. "Not that I'm complaining."
Rubbing the back of his neck, he got sheepish. "I'm sorry May. I don't mean to be around so little."
She waves her hand back and forth, and if to scatter the words in the air. "Don't he silly. I don't take it personally. You should come over more often though." She took another sip of her drink. "But that's not what you're here to talk about."
Y/n swallows hard, interlacing his fingers so he can hold onto something as he begins. "You know Peter so well," he began. May nodded; Y/n had come to her asking advice several times now. "I was thinking... maybe..." He cleared his throat, nervous. Once he said this to May it was in stone. Was he ready? Was Peter? "Do you think Peter is the marriage type?"
May froze, eyes wide. Y/n went solid and still as stone, only breathing again when May's shock flipped to glee. "You're thinking of proposing."
Okay. This was a good sign. "I was thinking about it," Y/n said slowly. "But I don't know if Peter would... want to. Or if it's too soon. Or if there's too much going on already with the whole Spider-Man thing." He shrugged, running his hand through his hair.
May nodded again, mulling Y/n's concern over. Every day Y/n thanked god she actually considered things rather than just jumping to "I want to see my boy married" like some aunts had before. It was a relief to know he could trust what she would say next.
"Have you talked to him about it?"
And sometimes Y/n wished she wasn't quite so good at what she did.
"Well-"
May cocked an eyebrow, her expression turning into something akin to 'you know what I'm going to say.' And it was true. Y/n did. He let her say it anyway. "I can't speak for my nephew, Y/n."
"I know," he sighed. "But I don't want to go in blind or jump the gun or scare him away-"
May chuckled. "That boy has seen more than I could even imagine." She paused for a second. "Normal things do scare him more than any villain in a suit could. But he's better about it than he used to be. And if you eased him into it, or took your shot, and we're ready for some possible rejection and not take it personally, it could be fine."
And there it was. The real reason Y/n was stressed. Because sure, Peter might not be ready, but if he wasn't and he ran and Y/n was crushed it could lead to the end of their relationship. They could both react very poorly...
This would mean Y/n would have to do it somewhere privately. It would have to be very low pressure, open minded. Understanding. Gentle. And it was a little heartbreaking that was the case. Y/n wanted to be a little loud, a little dramatic. And he would have to let that go.
May reached over, taking Y/n's hand. "It also doesn't have to be now. It should be when you're ready. The moment will come, and you'll know. You should only do it then." Her gaze was so soft and patient that Y/n could only absorb what she was saying directly into his soul. "Don't try to make a perfect moment. Let one come."
That advice stayed with Y/n until the moment came. He thought it had a few times but then it wouldn't quite pan out, or something would interrupt them or they'd need to stopper what they were doing and table it for later - when they moment was gone. But one day they were laying in bed, out of breath and grinning after Peter had stolen Y/n’s favorite jacket and Y/n had tried to take it back by force. Peter was much stronger than Y/n of course, and had plenty abilities to overwhelm him, but decided to play fair and shenanigans had turned into raucous laughter that had stolen both of their breath away.
Y/n looked at Peter and something warm and sweet touch him. May’s words came back to him full force in that moment and he was stunned to realize-
This was the moment.
“Will you marry me?” Peter turned, eyes wide, and immediately Y/n panicked. “Maybe not know. We don’t have to say now. But maybe one day.” His voice got dry when suddenly Peter took him by the face, kissing him.
The kiss was king and deep and passionate. Y/n felt something wet ion his cheek and realized Peter was crying.
When it ended, Peter pressed their foreheads together. “You’ve been so patient with me. I know you have. I know I’m not… easy. But I’m yours, and that was always enough for you.” He chuckled, seeming near giddy. Y/n felt his throat close with how much hope swelled in his chest. “I would love to maybe you. We can figure exactly when and how. Is that okay? If we don’t know exactly when?”
Y/n melted, raising a hand to run over Peter’s jaw. “I would marry you anywhere, any day, in any way that we could muster. Even if no one was there. Even if no one knew.”
Peter rolled his eyes. “You cheese ball.”
“Your cheese ball.” Y/n beamed. “For the rest of our lives?” It was timid, hopeful.
Peter sighed. “For the rest of our lives.”
Neither would ask more than that.
-
Male Readers: @ravenpuff-oli @sortzz @fadedver
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ellecdc · 2 months
Note
Her darling
I was wondering if I could request Sirius black with a short gf? Something cute and fluffy or generally anything you like to go with because your writing is just immaculate.
(I’m not even sure if 5’3 is counted as short but I’ve always been the shortest among my friends so yeah)
Love you and your wonderful blog 🩵🩵
Hahaha I’m 5’3 too - stopped growing first out of all my friends so that was devastating lol. Thanks for your request babes!! 🫶
Sirius Black x short fem!reader
CW: teasing about height, fluff
Sirius was beginning to regret agreeing with James, Remus, Peter, and Lily to go to the muggle amusement park. Sirius was already one of the shortest amongst his friends, save Pete and Lily who both clocked in at 5’8, meaning most of his day was spent trying to climb onto Remus’ back in order to spot you in the crowd.
“For the love of Merlin, Sirius, I am not that short.” You seethed as you snagged Sirius’ arm, pulling him down (rather roughly) from Remus’ hips.
You could tell Remus didn’t particularly appreciate Sirius using him as a human stepladder, but he couldn’t help but appreciate the teasing opportunity it lent to the group.
“Poor darling,” Lily murmured in faux sympathy, “we’re going to have to find you one of those child leashes that parents attach to their child’s wrists.”
“Sod off, the lot of you.” You groaned and crossed your arms petulantly over your chest.
“Uh oh, almost nap time?” James commented, which earned him a kick in the shin. “Ouch! Okay, okay. Merlin.” He muttered as he moved well out of your kicking range.
“Sorry dollface,” Sirius sung to you, not sounding sorry at all. “I just worry; don’t want to lose you in the crowd.”
You moaned again but didn’t bother gracing him with a response.
You’d been waiting in the summer heat for the newest rollercoaster that was all the rage of this little town when you were nearly at the front of the line.
“Okay, quick. Y/N, stand here – we need to make sure you’re tall enough.” Peter called. And now you were mad – even Peter was taking a go at you!
“Are you- I will not!” You sputtered.
“Ma’am, please step forward.” The bored teenage attendant said, causing everyone in line to turn and look at you.
You burned with shame and more than a little bit of rage as you stepped forward obediently, standing beside the cardboard height measurement tool in the shape of cartoon giraffe which had a speech bubble above him reading “riders must be this tall to ride!”
Sure enough, you were indeed tall enough to ride, and were told to return to your spot in line with the same bored tone as you were beckoned forth in.
You moved back to the group; Remus, Peter, and Lily all looking as if they were about to suffocate under the effort to restrain their laughter, Sirius and James having no such qualms were laughing boisterously.
You spent the rest of the time in line with your arms crossed, pointedly ignoring any of your friends attempts to converse with you.
“Oh my love.” Sirius cooed and stepped up behind you, hooking his head over your shoulder and wrapping his arms around your middle, using his hands to try and pry your own arms from your body. “I’m sorry, dolly. I didn’t think the attendant would join in.”
“You’re an arse.” You muttered back.
“I’m your arse.”
“That’s not a romantic thing to say.”
“What would be a romantic thing to say?”
“That you love me.” You admitted shyly; glad that he couldn’t necessarily see the state of your cheeks, though he could likely feel the heat emanating from them from his place on your shoulder anyways.
Sirius cooed again and turned you in his grasp, peppering kisses all over your face. “I thought that was a given?”
You moaned petulantly again. “No. You’ve been so mean to me.”
“I’m sorry, lovie.” He cooed, sounding slightly more sorry than he had before. “If I was nice to you, that would mean I didn’t love you. That’s why I never make fun of Remus.”
“Oi!”
“I love you.” He proclaimed, ignoring Remus’ outcry. He leaned in closer, whispering so only you could hear it. “I’ll even beat up the attendant for embarrassing you – how about that?”
You considered his offer, eyeing up the bored worker ushering riders through the gates.
“Probably best you don’t – looks like a student’s summer job. You could end up in muggle jail for assaulting a minor.”
Sirius hummed in acknowledgement, lips attached to your forehead. “Worth it to avenge my little lovie.”
“Out of all of us, do you really love me the least?” Remus commented, interrupting your conversation.
“Of course not, Moons. I obviously tease Evans the least.”
“Hey!”
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peterstrk · 2 months
Text
“When will you stop calling me Mr. Stark?”
“I don’t know… never? It is your name, yeah?”
“Uh-huh, I know it, but Pete, you know you can call me Tony, right? Or anything you want, for that matter. You have my permission, sweetheart.”
“Oh, Sweetheart, I like it! Anything I want, huh, Dr. Stark?”
“Ugh… I brought that on myself, didn’t I?”
“Yes, you did. However, I have a question to ask you.”
“Sure, ask away.”
“Um, I know it sounds silly, but I can’t help but feel like you’ve lived all these moments with others too. And no, I don’t judge you or anything, but it’s just… everyone you’ve ever been with has had the privilege to call you by your name and just… ugh, what I’m trying to say is, I love you, Mr. Stark, I truly do. But I want to come up with something that would be only mine! And I’m rambling again, I’m sorry… Anyway, my question is, can you wait for me to do that, please?”
“Oh, Pete, I didn’t know you felt this way. I’m so sorry you’ve gone through so much distress because of it. But Pete, sweetheart, the love of my life, never, you hear me, never question yourself around me, okay? I can’t change my past actions, but I don’t even remember their names, honey. You are the one for me… all I can think about all day is you and just how much I love you.”
“It’s always Peter,” Tony whispered, looking deep into Peter’s eyes and leaving faint kisses across his face. Peter’s bright, relieved smile reassured Tony that everything would be alright.
“Thank you…I think I came up with something for just us. What do you think of Anthony?” Peter said teasingly, his voice laced with a hint of mischief. Tony’s eyes lit up with amusement. He was all too eager to hear his boyfriend call him that.
“I love it, Peter. Anything you want, sweetheart, anything you want,” he replied with a hint of amusement. If anyone who knew him saw him now, they could easily tell how fond he was of the young pretty man standing before him.
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tripleyeeet · 10 months
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IN ANOTHER UNIVERSE, MAYBE (2)
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SUMMARY: It's always been hard being the sibling of a superhero. Lately though, it feels next to impossible.
PAIRING: Miguel O'Hara & Female Reader
WORD COUNT: 5,136
WARNINGS: Angst, enemies-to-lovers adjacent, descriptions of a panic attack/dissociate behaviours, inappropriate use of medication/alcohol consumption.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Okay, first of all, the amount of love I've received from this fic has been insane??? Like, y'all really knocked it out of the park, both here and on AO3 and I'm absolutely astounded? Thank you so much! You guys have literally motivated me so much so hopefully this chapter lives up to the hype of the first? :)
CHAPTER LIST / LAST CHAPTER / MASTERLIST
-
“God, I am never drinking again.” 
You stumble into the living room with your hands against your eyes, palming the sockets roughly. It’s morning, maybe even early afternoon, and already the sun is pushing through the blinds, coating the apartment in enough light that it makes you squint. On the couch Miguel grumbles under the covers as you walk by, pulling the fabric over his head as he readjusts his position, directing himself away. 
You’re surprised to see him there but say nothing, opting to wander into the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of water, noticing a fresh sticky note on the fridge: Call me when you’re up —Pete!
Hm, he must’ve gone over to MJ’s for the night.
Peeling the note away, you continue your trek for hydration, grabbing a glass that you fill and chug down twice before feeling satisfied enough to continue. Or at least, enough to survive considering just how sore you are. From your knees down you can feel the leftover aches from walking home; the many miles you’d managed to travel in your drunken state now heavy on your mind. There are at least one or two blisters on each foot thanks to your poor choice of footwear while the muscles surrounding your shins feel like they might actually be burning through your flesh.  
As you walk back through the living room you try not to groan at the pain, turning your attention to Miguel who’s now reluctantly awake. 
“Morning, grandpa.” 
You walk over and press the sticky note to his forehead, ignoring the way he swears under his breath and looks at you with narrowed eyes. 
“It’s not nice to assault people with sticky notes before they’ve had coffee.”
Shrugging in response, you walk back to your bedroom to grab your phone, listening to the creak of your couch as Miguel shifts out of place. 
It’s weird that he’s still here. After everything that happened last month, you were certain you’d never have to see him again. Being Peter’s boss and not much else, he’d become nothing more than a disdainful memory as time went on. A poor impression from the past that Peter never talked about. If you were honest, you weren’t expecting to hear about him so soon, much less see him, especially without his mask. 
So seeing him here, sitting so nonchalantly on your couch is a bit strange. Off-putting in a way that leaves you emotionally winded as you sit on the edge of your bed, staring at your notifications. 
There’s about half a dozen apologies from Peter alone, each variation more extreme than the last. Mixed between there’s a few memes and a picture of him pretending to cry on MJ’s floor with the caption sorry for being the worst brother, which you immediately save for future use. There’s also one from Harry asking you to send him a work email that you ignore and another from Gwen once again asking you to come for brunch. 
You glance at the time, noticing that it’s nearing eleven. She and Harry are probably already at their usual spot, munching away on overpriced, organic eggs and inhaling mimosas. (Something you'd normally enjoy but can’t quite fathom doing thanks to the pain currently rippling through your body.) 
Groaning, you curl further into the bed, feeling your head shift like an ocean wave that sends you flying across the room. In response, you shut your eyes as tight as possible, hoping that if you roll with the movements you’ll get used to them faster. 
Immunity through the power of will and all that. 
“I see you’re still alive.” 
You refuse to open your eyes. You need to focus on getting better —on pushing through the swirling motions that attack your brain because if you don’t you’ll be stuck here all day, helpless and in pain and way too dizzy. No longer will you be a person, but instead a shell. A fragile casing of sensitive flesh stretched over bruising bone that will slowly but surely deteriorate over time. 
“Are you always this dramatic?” 
The urge to argue persists, flowing through you just quick enough that you find yourself opening one eye, noticing his stance. 
He’s standing nonchalantly in the centre of your room; hands placed neatly on his hips. On his face, the tiniest of smirks pokes out of the corner of his mouth, prompting you to lift your head, blinking at what feels like a rare sight.
“Are you always this hostile?”
“Only in the morning.”
“Even towards complete strangers?”
“Especially to strangers.”
“Makes sense why you don’t have many friends.” 
“And how would you know that, stranger?”
He’s got that teasing tone that Harry always has. The one that sounds so condescending that it borders flirtation. Immediately it makes you roll your eyes and direct your attention back to your phone, realizing just how little you want to continue this conversation. You’re too hungover. Too sick and tired to do this whole back-and-forth thing, so instead you call Peter, putting the call on speakerphone with a sigh.
It rings twice before the other end clicks to life, a very joyful and awake Peter greeting the both of you. “Good morning friends, how are we doing on this beautiful morning?”
Almost in unison both of you grumble out a quiet fine that makes Peter laugh, prompting you to look at each other with shared disgust. 
“Are you hungover?”
“What do you think?”
“Gwen called me this morning,” he says, changing the subject. “She wants to go for brunch.”
“That’s nice, but I will not be attending on the account of the fact that I’d rather die.” 
“So dramatic,” Miguel chimes in.
Ignoring him, you place your phone onto the pillow next to you and tighten the covers around your throat.
Your head is still spinning but less so, the waves feeling more like lakeside tides than oceanic swells, leaving you thankful. There’s nothing worse than the spins after a night out. You can handle the stomach aches and even the vomiting but the second you can feel that mental drift you’re a goner. 
“Okay well, MJ and I are going to go if you change your mind. Miguel, you're welcome to come too.”
“No thanks,” he says, unsurprisingly. 
There’s a pause after that. One that lasts a solid five seconds but feels like a lifetime longer thanks to the way Miguel continues to stand there, staring at your pathetic frame tucked haphazardly beneath the covers. 
“You know staring is rude, right?”
“Is it?”
“Yeah, and weird too considering I barely know you.”
“You saying it’s weird for strangers to stare at strangers?” 
“A little, yeah, so knock it off.” 
He gives in, his eyes diverting towards the window before they move to the door, motivating his body to leave the room without another word. Once he’s gone you let out a sigh of relief and listen to his footsteps, hearing the way they move through the living room and into the kitchen. 
It makes you wonder why he’s even still here, taking up space in a home he isn’t really welcome in. You figured it was obvious from the beginning that he was nothing more than an overnight guest. A protective stand-in meant to slip away in the dead of night with no word or note. He was never meant to linger the way he is now and a part of you wonders if he already knows. If instead of picking up and applying said social cues, he’s opting to ignore them for some higher purpose. 
It wouldn’t make much sense but then again, you don’t really know Miguel so maybe he’s just a lingerer. Maybe he’s socially awkward and doesn’t understand that when you’re being mean to him it means you want him to leave your house so you can vomit in peace. 
“I see you guys are getting along.”
“Swimmingly.”
“Did you two have a good night?”
“Yes, oh my god it was amazing!”
“Really?”
You offer a fake laugh that Miguel walks in on, raising his brow in confusion. “No, we had a terrible time. Your boss is mean, Peter.” 
Offended, Miguel opens his mouth to speak but quickly closes it, watching the way you smirk beneath the covers, watching his brows knit together.
“How am I mean? I walked you home didn’t I?”
“Sure, begrudgingly.” 
He scoffs, his palms moving to encompass his hips again. “I didn’t realize I was supposed to enjoy walking you home. I’ll remember that next time.”
Next time?
You narrow your eyes and stare directly at him, noticing the way he mirrors your expression. It’s subtle at first, the way the crinkles of his eyes sort of deepen to match the lines across his forehead. His skin is rough —aged looking most likely due to the fact he probably slept terribly— and the bags beneath his eyes are the heaviest you’ve ever seen, even rivalling Peter’s on some of his rougher days. Like you, he looks more like a corpse than a person, his face devoid of anything other than the sickened frustration of having to deal with your attitude.
“I’m gonna be honest if you’re ever running late again, please call someone else.”
It’s obvious you’re talking to Peter but as you speak you continue staring at the man in front of you, glaring at the way his weight shifts beneath your gaze.
You hope he’s uncomfortable. You hope he’s embarrassed or at least feeling a little self-conscious for acting like such a child in a space that he hopefully never feels welcome in. If you were him you’d certainly be.
“Yeah, so, anyway, is that still a no to breakfast or…?”
-
You’re beginning to regret ever wanting to get involved in Peter’s double life. Or at least, its most recent developments. Up until last month, everything was fine. Simple and controlled and not at all hectic like it is now. Back then, everything was smooth sailing when it came to helping. Your only responsibilities being lie to May and make sure the window was always unlocked before you went to bed. Two very mundane tasks you could practically do in your sleep. 
Nowadays, it feels like an endless loop of stress. Kind of like when you were eighteen and just finding out that your brother was a superhero for the first time. Everything is complicated again. The stakes feel higher than ever before knowing the truth that there’s a world out there just like yours, endlessly repeating. That instead of just one Spider-Man there’s probably a million variations doing the same thing Peter’s doing. 
You’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you look at everything differently —intensively. With each new person you pass you wonder what their version is like somewhere else. Are they still male or female? Are they younger? Older?
As you walk into brunch alongside Peter and MJ, it’s all you can think about as you stare at Gwen, remembering her counterpart. How she looked so familiar but you couldn’t quite place it. 
You realize now that it’s because she’s your Gwen, but not. A direct copy but a good decade younger. They have the same hair colour and eyes and that little gap between their front teeth and upon seeing her it makes you wearily shift into your seat, putting on your fakest smile. 
She’s already a bit tipsy when you arrive, you can tell. Her eyes are half closed and the grin plastered across her face is hazardously wide. 
“Oh, my god, hi! I’m so glad you came!”
If it weren’t for the table between you she’d be pulling you in for a hug, tightening her grip around your shoulders until the air inside you was gone. You inhale nervously at the thought, wondering if other Gwen would do the same. 
It’s hard to tell what traits transfer over. Considering she’s a spider person in her universe it’s more than likely she’s completely different, right? Perhaps relating more to Peter. It’d make sense that all spider people kind of have the same vibe. Perhaps like your brother, they’re nerdy and into photography and have partners with nicknames that double as their initials. Like him they'd live double lives, trying their best to find the balance between being crime-fighting arachnids and regular civilians with the help of their sisters. 
Or brothers. You figure in other universes you’re probably a guy too. Hell, maybe even in some you're the spider person having to navigate through life with the help of your brother. 
“Sorry we’re late,” Pete grins, pulling out the chair beside you so that MJ can sit down. “Somebody had a bit too much to drink.”
You shoot him a look as he sits at the head of the table, sticking out his tongue for good measure. 
You hope in the universe where you have superpowers you give him a hard time. 
“It’s fine, we overdid it too,” Gwen says, looking at Harry who rolls his eyes and looks at Peter, the two of them sharing a knowing glance. 
“Hope you wore a condom,” you say, at which MJ and Gwen gasp, both of their mouths curling into cheeky grins that you can’t help but share. 
Its always been obvious that the two of them are together, even though neither of them would ever admit it. It’s weird but Gwen says it’s a part of the intrigue, having this unlabeled relationship that she can just ride without the responsibility of making it a bit deal. 
Both you and MJ think it’s because she secretly likes the drama of it all, but knowing how she’d react to such a claim, neither of you says that out loud. 
“Did you make it home okay?” Gwen changes the subject before anyone can even join in, making you sort of sad because you love to tease. 
“Relatively. Threw up on the walk home but that’s New York, baby.” 
“Walk home?” Harry questions.
You freeze, remembering Miguel. He doesn’t exist in this world. At least, not to anyone other than you and Pete and maybe MJ. You’re not entirely sure what he’s told her but you figure she knows in some capacity because he wouldn’t have called you otherwise. 
“I mean drive, sorry, drive home. I’m still hungover.” You try to laugh it off but Harry and Gwen share that look. The familiar one where they think you’re lying but know better than to actually bring it up. It’s the same look they give you sometimes when you’re covering for Peter and you hate it, feeling your chest tighten every time it’s shared right in front of your face. 
It reminds you of how you felt having Miguel around. Something about the way he looks at you every time you talk fills you with that familiar twang of insignificance. Like whatever you say isn’t good enough. 
With your friends you know it’s because you’re insecure about your lying capabilities. With Miguel though, it’s different. Yes, it feels the same physically but emotionally it’s an entirely new set of feelings. Ones that have you second-guessing their origins, remembering the way your stomach would twist each time he’d insult you. Each time he’d look at you with those dark eyes and pouting mouth. 
Thinking about it now, he reminds you very little of Peter. Aside from the moniker of Spider-Man the only similarities (so far) you can confidently say that they share is the art of sarcasm and deflection. The way their voices can become so monotonous at the drop of a hat is unparalleled, even with all the tension, and it’s frustrating. 
It makes you wish you didn’t wear your emotions on your sleeve. Like Peter and Miguel, you wish you could box it all up in the form of calm words so that nobody even got the chance to look at you the way Harry and Gwen still are. 
Secretly, you wish you were the spider person of this universe. Not because you want to save lives, selfishly. No, you mostly just wish you were stronger like them. Less like yourself and more like your brother who sits at the head of the table holding MJ’s hand with the biggest smile you’ve ever seen. 
And not so secretly, you want what he has. You want to be confident and to have people look at you in a way that’s filled with adoration. To have them survey you and conclude that you’re decent rather than picking out your flaws. You want May to look at you with fondness. You want her to be proud of you in the same way she’s proud of Peter and to affirm your belief that you’re doing alright for yourself even without filling her desires for grandkids. 
You want Harry to look at you with respect. To stop looking through you just because you’re Parker’s sister who just so happens to be smart too. You want him to take him as seriously as he takes Gwen without the sex. Without the implication that to be valued, you need to provide him with something worthwhile. 
You want Gwen to appreciate everything you do for her. To stop taking advantage of you at work and in life —to provide you with the comfort of an actual friend. 
You want value, you decide. Whether that’s through the gain of superpowers or not. All you want is a little bit more than you’re given and you wish you could express that as you sit at the table, watching everyone talk and laugh as if you’re not really there.
Beside you, MJ leans into Peter as he talks, resting her chin on her hand in longing silence while the two across the table sit, completely engrossed. You try your best to listen in too, picking up that the story involves his boss over at the Bugle. Something about how his last few pictures of Spider-Man were so good he nearly fell off his chair. 
You fight the urge to roll your eyes and pull out your phone, scanning the screen mindlessly, clicking on apps and profiles over and over again until the waitress shows up and asks for your order. You get a mimosa regardless of your hangover and a bagel breakfast sandwich with all the extra fixings, knowing you need it. Then you wait. Wordlessly exhausted, wishing that instead of deciding to tag along you’d stayed at home under the comfort of your covers.
-
Once you step over the threshold of your apartment you let out a sigh of relief and sink into the couch alongside Peter who rubs his face. By now your social battery is running at a negative ten, making your mind fill with nervous thoughts that have you frowning as you curl into yourself, clutching your knees to your chest.
You shouldn’t have gone, you decide then. Regardless of the extended invitation, it was obvious you were only invited because Gwen was drunk and felt bad. That’s usually how it went nowadays. 
“They’re a lot, aren’t they?”
Peter’s always known how much you struggle with people —how you overthink every interaction after it’s happened. It’s how it’s always been and he’s used to it. 
As you nod, you feel his hand against your shoulder, tightening. It’s a gesture of understanding but at the moment it feels like pity so you brush him off, frowning even harder. 
“You okay?”
You aren’t. You’re overstimulated from the amount of interacting you’ve done in the last twenty-four hours. From Harry and Gwen to Miguel and back you haven’t had a break all day and you can feel your mask slipping. Physically, your chest is aching for a breath you can’t quite get, the realization of your interactions pushing you over the edge and all you want to do is scream.
You were such an asshole today. Sure, you’re always kind of mean but this morning specifically felt like a step above the rest with the way you argued with Miguel as if you knew him. As if last night was just another night between you, adding to countless others. You were brash and unwelcoming and rude, and despite how you feel about him sometimes, you still feel pretty shit about it.
“Do you need anything?”
“No.” 
Your tone is stubborn, dripping with an arrogance that has Pete sighing because he knows he can’t do much. When you’re in these moods all he can really do is let you live through your anger —to explore the hate you feel inside in private. It’s how you’ve always done things. So when Peter looks at you with sympathy you can know that’s it. He won’t press the matter further. He’ll just get up and leave and go to MJ’s for the night. Check-in in the morning like he usually does.
As he stands you’re met with feelings of both relief and regret, watching the way he carefully pats your head and steps over your legs. Inside, your stomach drops as he wanders to the doorway, slipping on his shoes and coat without saying a word, knowing that it never solves anything —just makes it all messy. 
Again, like always, you wish you were like him in these instances. Because maybe then you could have a normal relationship that doesn’t rely on boundaries you wish didn’t exist. Instead of pushing everyone away you could sit with them —talk to them. Express instead of repress. Prove to them that the love you want is the love you deserve. 
If you were in any other universe you’re certain you could do it. In this one though? 
You’re too scared. 
-
When you’re alone, it happens, the calm before the storm. 
As the hours move and you lay exhausted on the couch staring at your phone, you find yourself scrolling. Distracting yourself from the inevitable breaking point by watching YouTube video after YouTube video. First, you start with your usual poison, simple documentaries about things like haunted houses or murder cases that remained unsolved. Lazily, you click thumbnail and thumbnail, half absorbing all the names and dates and details as you lie prone, trying not to think about it. 
It takes hours for you to fully accept your emotions and when you do it’s a mess. Now lying in bed, it’s nearing eight and your deep dive on unsolved mysteries has turned into videos discussing the topics of the multiverse. You’re not sure why you decided to delve into all that but regardless, as you do you’re in your head again, clutching a pillow tightly against your cheek as you try to steady your thoughts. 
You bet Miguel’s world has a version of you that’s nicer. One that treats him with respect. They’re probably a spider person too which is why he looks at you with such disdain every time you argue. You’re a lesser version of them —no comparison. They’re better and it drives you insane, thinking that the approval of a man you hardly know is important. 
Aside from Peter, there’s absolutely nothing connecting you. You’re from different worlds both literally and figuratively, so it doesn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter.
Except that it does, doesn’t it? Deep down, regardless of how well you know one another, this man has managed to find his way inside your skin. You’re not sure when or how or why but somehow he’s always there, lingering at the back of your mind like a memory. Like he’s absent until he’s not —until something reminds you that he exists and that he thinks you’re too inexperienced to understand that he doesn’t like you. 
You figure he doesn’t like you because you’re stubborn. You’re sure there are other reasons but that’s the only one that really jumps out. The way he speaks to you is a direct example of that. Changing subjects often, he doesn’t like when you push his pull. Doesn’t like when you defy his authority or pry. He wants complete and total control and when you’re around he knows he doesn’t have that. You don’t trust him enough to give it.
His version of you probably gives him whatever he wants. Probably spoils him by following him around like some lost fucking puppy. They’re probably older than you —experienced— and have the backbone of an earthworm. 
He probably loves it. 
Shoving your face into your pillow you let out a loud groan, letting the tears well and overflow against the fabric of your pillowcase.
It’s sudden, the storm. Erupting out of nowhere over something that shouldn’t matter. Quickly, there’s a rage that fills inside you, quietly creeping from the depths of your soul in the form of breathless gasps and shaky hands. 
You turn upwards to face the ceiling, the tears coating your eyes in a layer of disarray. You can’t see anything but the blurred beige above you. Everything moves like brushstrokes across the canvas, thick and liquidy and not quite good-looking. It makes you blink in annoyance and throw your forearms over your head, trying to stop the world from letting you see or shake or feel anything other than regret. 
It’s painful, the storm. It feels like a deep wound being opened back up again. All the build-up of scar tissue is there, shoved amongst the perfectly good parts. Usually, they linger there together but as the wound is peeled open by your own hand, you can feel the worst of it start to push. 
As it surfaces, you can feel the catalyst begin to wake. The rate at which the chemicals in your brain begin to increase, pushing you over the edge.
It fucking hurts. 
By now your wound is gaping, ripping at the base of your chest. It’s hard to breathe under all the pressure of the damaged flesh. Under all the memories of a life you once thought was good. Decent 
In another universe, you hope to god you feel just like this. Like the world is caving in and you’re the last survivor. At least then you wouldn’t feel so alone —so beside yourself while everyone else so carelessly continues moving. 
It helps calm the storm. Thinking of you —another you. Regardless of if they’re better or worse or completely equal to you, the thought of this feeling extending across the expanse of a place you don’t quite understand fills you with ease.
It closes the hole in your chest —pushes all the tainted flesh back inside for safekeeping. Slowly, it settles into something you can handle again, sewing up the edges that’ll inevitably leave a new scar. 
As you sit up from your bed, brushing past the tears to clear your vision, you feel your breath begin to steady. A slow one-through-five inhale, followed by another one-through-five exhale, each one becoming stronger than the last as you look towards the window, noticing the familiar blue and red spandex standing silently on your fire escape. 
He doesn’t move when you notice him. Doesn’t fly through the air or duck out of sight. Standing there, it’s as if instead of flesh he’s made of stone, unwavering in his attempts to watch you carefully through the window. It’s scary if you’re honest. The way he looks so detached from the world. Even without seeing his face, it’s as if there’s nothing behind the angered design that adorns his features below. His emotions feel completely blank underneath the fabric, making you wonder. 
What’s he thinking about?
As you inch toward the edge of the bed, you see him twitch. It’s subtle. The fingers of his right hand sort of jolt lightly in the air, and it’s over before you can even think about it, so you don’t. Instead choosing to forget as you move towards the window. 
Surprisingly, he still doesn’t move. All he does is breathe, letting the rise and fall of his chest ruin the image of his fixed stance. He’s nervous, like you, you determine. Scared, like you.
It motivates your movements, pushing you through the room until you’re standing in front of the window, reaching for it with shaky hands.
Why hasn’t he left yet?
You push open the window, slowly, watching his body begin to move towards it, his leg pushing through the moment you step away.
“What are you doing here?”
He doesn’t respond. At first, you assume it’s because he’s embarrassed and doesn’t know what to say but then he moves. Lifelessly, he brushes past you and wanders into the living room, forcing you to follow as he drops onto the couch with a groan. 
Seriously, why is he here?
You open your mouth to repeat your previous question but are interrupted by his mask. Almost instantly, it disintegrates before your very eyes, revealing fresh injuries that have you holding your tongue because laying there, he looks like Peter after a rough night. Maybe even worse thanks to the shiner that takes a good portion of his left eye. 
“Do you have any painkillers?” 
You don’t even respond before you leave the room, wandering into your bathroom to grab the usual meds you give Peter. They’re prescription, originally given to you for period cramps, but they do wonders on a battered body.
When you reenter, Miguel’s face is scrunched in pain, struggling to find comfort. Because of this, you practically run to the kitchen, grabbing all the usual items: water, ice packs, scotch, carrying it all in one go. 
“What’s the scotch for?”
You untuck a glass from the crook of your elbow and settle on the floor beside the couch, pouring it halfway to the top before downing it.
“None for me?”
You pour another one. “You’re not meant to take it with pills but Peter always says it makes him sleep better.”
“Okay.” 
You’re no doctor, but you’ve experienced this same formula countless times. If he takes one pill with one full glass of water then drinks the scotch, followed by another water he’ll be out like a light in no time.
“Pill, water, scotch, water,” you instruct, watching him closely as he follows suit, chugging back everything in under a minute.
After it’s done he settles into the couch again, tucking ice packs against his face and chest before glancing your way with a grin. “Stuff’s nice. Goes down good.”
He sounds like he’s been hit by a bus, his voice rubbed raw, scratching your brain in a way that makes you squint as you pour yourself another glass.
“Good cause it cost a pretty penny.” 
“Yeah?”
You nod, opting to sip this one, still feeling the burn of the other radiating throughout your chest. “Ben bought it for me. A graduation present or something.” 
“Wasn’t that ages ago?”
“Your point?”
All he does is grin and close his eyes.
-
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