#Peter Parker x OC

[bonesandchalamet]

perfect - t.holland

masterlist

requested: y- “Could you do reader and Tom or Harry with newborn !!”

pairings: dad!tom holland x mom!reader

warnings: fluff + child has been given a name

a/n: I hope I did this justice 🫡 I’m not very good with writing newborns!

you can’t figure out what you’re more obsessed with: her rolls, feet, or the fact that she looks exactly like Tom.

you haven’t been able to move from the crib. you should be asleep, but your eyes are glued to the crib where your newborn daughter, Emma, lays asleep.

you know Tom will come in any second. he’ll be concerned why you’re not in bed or pumping. he’ll ask if something’s wrong with Emma or with you. he’ll ask a series of questions you’ve heard on record since you came home from the hospital, but you don’t mind them. he’s concerned for his two loved ones.

“everything alright?” there it is. you sigh, taking a look at him for a brief second before looking back at her. she hasn’t moved, yet every rise and fall of her chest makes your heart swell.

“I just can’t decide which part I love more of her.” you carefully tap your finger against the wooden edge of the crib.

Tom exhales quite happily, it’s nothing serious to be worried about. he carefully steps into the room, his hand rests against your lower back, “why don’t you go sleep? we can worry about what we love most once we’ve rested.”

you shake your head. there’s tears welling your eyes, you know this is just hormones— or maybe you’re just so in love you can’t move from her crib.

“I just want to stay here forever.”

“we’ll have plenty of time to stay in here forever. we need some sleep.” he assures you, his palm running over your dirty hair. you can’t remember the last time you’d showered coming to think of it.

“you’re right, I’m being ridiculous.” you nod along with him finally moving from the crib. the emotions had dried allowing the exhaustion to finally settle in your body. Tom promises to take the first shift after napping and you don’t argue, just settle into the mattress.

“and you’re not ridiculous. however, I think her rolls are quite adorable.”

—

three hours.

you’d been asleep for three hours and didn’t even hear a single noise from emma or Tom. you assumed he would need your help at some point, but having not heard anything from either of them. you could trust he had it all under control.

you slowly rise out of bed and exit the bedroom, you see Tom in your living room rocking chair. he’s got a bottle in one hand, and her cradled in his other arm. she looks quite cozy and content with him.

“you’re awake.” he looks up from her with a frown. his plans were to let you sleep as long as you needed, but he knew you couldn’t leave her alone for too long without checking on her. the silence was always scary to hear.

“I know.”

“she’s been sleeping this whole time. you can go back to bed if you’d like?” he recommends rather than offering. you know the suggestion is what you should take, but you can’t get yourself to move from where you’re standing. your eyes glued to her once again.

“it’s everything. that’s what I love about her.” you say finally taking your eyes off of your sleeping newborn to look Tom in the eyes.

he nods in agreement looking back down at her in his arms, “she’s perfect.”

[bittenbyyou]

Pampered

Boyfriend!Peter Parker x Reader

genre: fluff

description: You pamper your boyfriend with skincare after a long day. 

word count: 1.8k

warnings: Peter knows absolutely nothing about skincare and is so endearing. Fluffy fluff. 

a/n: I’m not a skincare expert, but I do love learning about it. And I thought the idea of Peter getting pampered was adorable because he deserves to be taken care of. Please reblog if you enjoyed! :)

You checked the time on your phone, tapping your foot on the floor anxiously. Peter’s nighttime patrols have been getting longer and longer to where he sometimes wouldn’t come home until 2 A.M. Even you, who was a night owl, had your limits.

A subtle squeak soon caught your attention as you whipped your head to look at the window. Sure enough, you saw a red gloved hand slide the window open before the famous Spider-Man crawled through upside-down. 

“Hi beautiful,” your boyfriend said from the ceiling. You got up from the bed, hands on your hips. 

“You had me worried,” you said, though your light-hearted tone let Peter know you weren’t really upset. With a gentle, muffled thud, he touched down on the floor and swiftly removed his mask.

“I know, I’m sorry. I got caught up with a bank robbery and then there was a fire—”

“A fire?!”

“—and then these thugs tried to rob an old lady. Can you imagine that? But she beat them with her cane like bam! Bam! Bam!” he continued, reenacting the scene for you. “I barely had to do anything. You should’ve seen it!”

The way he talked about crime fighting was incredibly endearing. He was always so passionate and upbeat, like it was his favorite thing in the world because… it was. Along with you of course. And that’s why you fell in love with him. He truly loved what he did. Not many would go through such lengths to protect their city the way Peter did. You could tell by the glint in his eyes that he was meant for this.

“Sounds hilarious,” you said, letting out a giggle. You cupped his face with both hands, inspecting for any blemishes or scars. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“I’m good. Really.” He grabbed your hands and placed a warm kiss on one of them. “Now let’s go to bed. I’m beat.”

“No. You have to brush your teeth and floss.”

He slumped his shoulders. “I’m really tired.”

“Babe, hygiene is important. Plus we gotta do your skincare.”

“It’s too many steps,” he whined. 

“I’ll do your skincare for you. But go brush first,” you ordered, pointing to the bathroom. He pressed the black spider emblem on his suit where his chest was, making it expand and fall off his body like a deflated balloon. 

“Yes ma’am…” He walked away from you in a sulking, slouching position and you laughed. 

“Quit being dramatic.”

“It’s so~ far~.”

“Don’t make me tickle you.”

“I’m going, I’m going!” he exclaimed, running away from you as fast as possible. 

Peter took longer than expected because he felt the need to shower once he realized how sweaty he was. The water relaxed him but also made him feel more awake. It was already late in the night (or early in the day), so he didn’t care anymore about sleep.

You waited patiently and patted the mattress when you saw him come back in nothing but his boxers. 

“Come on, lie down.” He obeyed and rested his head on the pillow, closing his eyes. “Put this on first.”

Peter opened his eyes to see you dangling the pink headband with a large bow in front of his face. He gave you a “are you serious?” look but put it on anyway, being careful to push all the hair out of his face with it. You tried to refrain from laughing, but failed once he shot you a glare. 

“I feel ridiculous.”

“No~, you’re adorable.”

“You’re laughing.”

You pressed your lips together and shook your head. “No, I’m not.”

Peter chuckled and closed his eyes. “Alright. Make me beautiful.”

Deep down, he loved being pampered by you even if he didn’t want to admit it. With everything going on in his life, taking care of his skin was the least of his worries. But you were adamant about it, passionate even, that he had to take care of his skin everyday. You even created a skincare routine for him, which he felt had too many steps (it was three). How you did this for yourself everyday, he had no clue. But he loved how you cared so much for him and these little acts of love made his heart feel warm and fuzzy. 

"Did you remember to put on sunscreen this morning?" you asked, your voice carrying a hint of playfulness as if you were teasing him.

“Yes,” he answered quite proudly.

“Did you reapply every two hours?”

“... I’m supposed to reapply?”

You grabbed the bottle of micellar water, shaking the bottle before drenching a reusable cotton pad with it. Leaning over, you swiped the pad gently all over Peter’s face. He smiled with his eyes at the cooling sensation. 

“Yeah. The SPF doesn’t last all day unless you reapply.”

“But I wear my suit and that shields me from the sun all day,” he said, every word enunciated with the pout of his lips. God, he didn’t understand how cute he was. It took everything in you not to kiss him right now.

“You take off your mask a lot and if you don’t protect your skin, the sun can damage it. Open your eyes.” He obeyed. “Look at how dirty this pad is. The grime and sweat and oils from your day.”

Peter’s eyes widened a bit at the gray pad, still not used to how much dirt he could accumulate in a day. “Wow, that came from my face?”

“Mmhmm.”

“What’s the thing you used?” he asked, pointing to the bottle in your hand.

“Micellar water. It’s like a makeup remover.”

“I’m not wearing makeup.”

“I know. But it takes off the dirt on your face. And the one layer of sunscreen you had,” you said, emphasizing the word “one”. He gave you a cheeky grin.

“Okay, I’ll put on more sunscreen. I promise.” He held out his pinky and you did the same, locking him in on his promise. 

“Good. Time for a cleanser.”

“What’s that again?”

You pumped some cleanser into your hands and then added enough water from the bowl you had prepared earlier to lather it. You rubbed your hands together until bubbles had formed. 

“It’s like soap but specifically for your face. Close your eyes.”

You rubbed the cleanser over Peter’s face, careful not to touch his eyes or lips. This was one of your favorite parts because you got to admire your handsome boyfriend up close, appreciating every feature. 

“So like bar soap?”

“... Please don’t tell me you’ve been using bar soap on your face.”

“I use it everywhere.”

“Everywhere…? So like… your balls?”

“Um… uh… no? That’d be ridiculous,” he said, letting out a nervous laugh. The loud sigh that left your lips let him know he was in for it now. 

“Peter, you can’t use the same soap bar for your dick and face!”

“But it’s soap!”

“I… I don’t even know what to say. You’re supposed to be the genius here.”

“... It’s soap.”

“Okay, I’m tabling this. At least you were cleaning your face. From now on, use the cleanser I bought you for your face. It’s a hydrating one because you have dry skin.”

Peter gasped and clutched his chest dramatically like you had just insulted him. “I do not.”

“You don’t even know what that means.”

“I thought you said I have beautiful skin.”

“You do, you donut. You’re lucky it’s so nice even though you don’t take care of it.”

You grabbed the towel you prepared and wiped the suds away, revealing your adorable Peter, who was smiling from your touch. 

“Where’s that thing that smells like oranges?”

“Hmm? The cleansing balm? It’s harder to rinse it off if you’re in bed. That’s why I used micellar water today.”

“Aw… but I like the orange one.”

“Then you can do it yourself.”

“No, I’m good,” he said, shaking his head. You rolled your eyes at how childish he could be sometimes, yet you still found him endearing. 

“Okay, two more steps.”

“Two?!”

“Babe, I have like six steps in mine. You’re fine.”

“How do you do this everyday?”

“I don’t know. I find it relaxing. Besides, I want to look my age and not age faster because I didn’t take care of myself. Plus skin cancer is scary.”

Peter nodded because that was the first thing you’ve said tonight that he fully comprehended. “What are the last two steps?”

“I’m putting on a serum treatment for you and then a moisturizer to seal everything in.”

“That sounds fancy.”

You grabbed the bottle of serum for his skin needs, taking the dropper it came with and placing a couple drops on the back of your hand. Then you used your ring finger, the gentlest finger, to dab the product all over Peter’s face. He giggled when you touched his neck, the tickling sensation making him squirm. 

“Babe,” you scolded playfully. “Stay still.”

“Sorry, I can’t help it.” His eyes fluttered open and he watched you work your magic, loving your concentrated expression. To him, you were the most beautiful girl in the world and the way you cared for him made him feel special. 

You pumped out a couple squirts of your fancy moisturizer, making sure to tell him it was a fancy moisturizer and he laughed, thanking you for your sacrifice. 

“Seriously, this cost me a lot. And I’m using it on your face so… you’re welcome.”

“Thanks. The villains in this city must be so jealous right now,” he teased.

“They should be.” You leaned back and grinned, satisfied with your work. Peter’s face was glowing, the lamp in his room illuminating his face even more. “You look gorgeous.”

Peter took off the pink headband, placing it on his nightstand before pulling you on top of him. “You’re gorgeous.”

You got into a more comfortable position as you straddled him, pecking his lips, cheek, and nose. “I love you.”

“I love you too. But…”

“But?”

“You messed up my skincare. You just transferred so much bacteria onto my clean face.”

“Oh my god.”

“I’m serious. This is unprofessional. I want a refund.”

“You’re so ridiculous sometimes, you know that?” 

He broke out into another cheeky grin. “You love me though.”

“I don’t know… you don’t want my kisses.” You got off him and laid on your side, pulling the covers over your body.

“No, no, I want them.” 

“Good night.”

Peter forced you to turn around, planting a big smooch on your lips. You couldn’t help but smile into the kiss, holding onto his soft curls as you pulled him closer. As your lips parted from his, you both looked into each other's eyes with a loving gaze, unable to pull away. 

“[Y/N]... I have a question.”

“Yeah?”

“Can you eat the cleansing balm?”

“Babe, no.”

“But it smells so good.”

“I’m going to bed.”

[goest-and-fuckest-thyself-blog]

I can’t help thinking about TASM!Peter Parker trying to be super gentle with human!reader when he fucks them. His superhuman strength makes it hard to gauge how much force he’s using while he’s thrusting. I love the idea of Peter being all soft and caring like,

“Are you sure I’m not hurting you?”

Reader rolls their eyes and kisses him, “We have a safe word for a reason, Petey.”

[liz-allyn]

sugar and vice, pt 1 [mob!tasm!peter x fem!reader]

summary: I have a meet-cute in a coffee shop. but for mob!peter.

words: 5.5k

warnings: Shameless TASM mob!daddy Peter fantasies, including, but not limited to, kidnapping, knives, bang bang shoot shoot, pining, eventual smut

Part 1

“Just a coffee, black. Biggest ya got.”

Wearily, yet still wired, Peter tapped his fingers on the stainless steel counter. It was late. Or early. Streetlamps still blazed in unholy darkness outside. It had been a long night. But he had felt like he’d been up for years. 

Across from him, a young woman wearing overalls and a daisy-yellow bandana gave him a heavy nod. “Sure,” she replied, gravely. “I have to warn you, though. We over-roast our beans. It’s bitter as hell.”

He blinked at her, not expecting such honesty. She had a trusting face. Pretty eyes. 

“Ya wanna sweeten it up for me?”

He could hear the lame pickup line of a younger version of himself. One that wore a confident smirk, walked with bravado. One that hadn’t lost what he had lost. The older Peter of today brushed that voice away. “I like bitter.”

He glanced up at her eyes and saw sympathy. “Oof, tragic,” she frowned, shaking her head teasingly, her coyness peeking through. She retrieved a paper cup and filled the dark liquid to the brim. 

The personalness of it threw him off. Peter had wandered in like a zombie. He only briefly heard her ask for his order and his name, both of which he gave, and he expected nothing in return but the coffee. He watched her carefully, shifting uncomfortably. He was the only customer in the shop at this hour, but he didn’t expect to be seen. 

“Here you go,” she declared, handing the cup over. “One large black graveyard dirt, extra tears.”

It wasn’t so much the joke, rather the way she beamed when she said it. It was like sunlight peeking through the curtains just right, casting a familiar space in an ethereal glow. 

She glowed.

Seeing it awakened his senses. He felt the way flowers must feel, desperately reaching their petals out toward the sun after they’d been neglected through a long, dark winter. 

Before he knew it, he was smiling back. Teeth bared, eyes crinkled, grinning like a fool. He thought his muscles couldn’t remember what smiling felt like. It ached.

She reached out, extending the cup towards him. But it was so much more than that.

His gaze darted from her sparkling eyes, to the curve of her mouth, back to the apples of her cheeks—

“Thanks for stopping by, Ben!”

The illusion vanished, as did his smile. He pulled away, staring at the stainless steel countertop for a moment. He thanked her and took the cup from her hand, dropping a couple of bucks in the jar. He didn’t spare her another glance as he turned on his heel. 

For a moment there, he felt free. He’d forgotten what he was underneath the leather gloves, thick cashmere coat, the bitter coffee, and the fake name.

His hand found the door, the winter chill penetrating his glove. Just as he began to push it open, he heard a shout.

“Wait!” 

He did, glancing back at her, against his better judgment.

“I forgot to tell you,” she said, almost shrinking into herself with a sheepish expression. She blushed at the eagerness and volume of her own voice. “To have a great day.”

He blinked, brow creased.

“It’s, uh, sorry— it’s stupid,” she rolled her eyes, slapping her palm across her forehead. “But I’m… I’m supposed to say ‘have a great day’ and I always forget, maybe ‘cos I’m a little ADHD, and my boss always reminds me that I need to say it every time, but that’s awkward, right? Like it needs to come up in conversation, I can’t just blurt it. I mean, I can. Like, I just did. But that was weird, right? It was weird. And sometimes, I’m thinking about the next 3 things I have to do, or the thing I just did and I get… I don’t know, a little lost in the moment, and then it passes, and then I felt like I missed out, y’know?”

He stared. “No?”

“On saying what I want really to say,” she said with a voice full of warmth—gentle and genuine in tone. Her babbling ceased as she emphatically declared. “I really hope you have a great day. You deserve it.”

There it was again. That smile. Sincerity and kindness sliced through him like a razor. He was a child again, getting a kiss on the cheek from his mother. Her cheerful gaze lit him up inside, like setting off a roman candle beneath his ribs. It wrapped him in a firm embrace, filling him, shielding him, and grounding him all at once.

This time, he couldn't look away. Didn't want to. He waited until he could hear the flutter in her heart. He was smiling again.

“Thank you. I think I will.”

And as if she’d cast some sort of spell, he did. The way she enchanted him, he was certain if they lived 400 years ago they might accuse her of witchcraft. He always had a good day when he saw her. No matter how painful, or dirty, or bloody. She became his good luck charm. His ability to ‘have a good day’ became entirely dependent on seeing her.

He shouldn’t go back there. He should try the Starbucks down the street. But he couldn’t help it.

She’d pour him basic drip coffee, announcing aloud to the whole shop as she handed it to him. “Here you go! Extra large, extra-hot dark roast, with extra-darkness and a splash of angst.” There was affection in her gaze despite the sarcasm of her voice.

“One extra large coffee, black as the devil’s soul.” She’d whisper to him privately, gifting him with a good-luck smile, even when the coffee shop was full of people during the morning rush. In those moments, she made him feel like they were the last two people on the planet. And it always made something in his belly flutter.

“I have an extra-black ‘Fault in Our Stars,’ with a shot of ‘The Road’ for my friend in the suit!” 

Her friend. He couldn’t help but blush. How could he come to this place every day, stand in line, and feel like he was coming home? She was magic.

The coffee really was awful.

“Let me know if you ever want me to sweeten that up for you,” she graciously suggested, as the cup left her fingers. The brush of her fingertips against his felt like wildfire. Her comment was innocent, but his mind wasn’t. “I think I can make it taste better—I have some window cleaner left.”

He was smiling again. It blossoms into something reciprocal. That should be enough. He shouldn’t be greedy. He should walk away now. He should run. 

“What would you suggest?” he asked coyly. It was the first time he had ever done so.

A million saccharine-infused terms of endearment flowed through his mind—sweetness, sugar, gumdrop, sweetheart, sweetie, cookie, peach, muffin, angelcake—most of them were trash. (Really, Parker? What is this, high school? Whaddya doin’? You ever talk to a woman before? Why do you sound like somebody’s grandpa? Such a creepy —

Some of them weren’t appropriate between friends. None of them appropriate coming from a stranger.

That’s what he was, deep down. God, this precious girl—she was so trusting. Was she friendly like this with everyone? No, he had noticed as time went on. She’s warm and kind to everyone she meets. But not like this. Not the way she is for him.

“Ooh, getting adventurous, are we?” she teased him, stars in her eyes. 

For him. All he could do was stare back in awe at the Milky Way in her gaze. He would follow them and venture on any journey where they may lead.

“How do you feel about lavender and honey?”

Flowers and sugar for Brits and fancy people. He quirked his brow at the concept. “In coffee?”

Her eyes twinkled with excitement, as she spun around and began her concoction. 

For him.

He needed to leave. But he followed the length of her arms, the delicacy of her fingers, the way her hips moved as she danced around her workstation. He was hypnotized again. 

He imagined dancing with her. Letting her body flow and wrap around his like curtains billowing in the breeze. He barely registered that she was holding a new cup out toward him. While he was daydreaming, she had written his name on the cup and drew a little heart next to it.

He stared at it. It’s not exactly his name. But it’s the one he’d given her. And in return, she had given him so much.

He took the cup from her hand and couldn’t help but feel like he was undeserving of her kindness. Or her attention. Or her heart.

“Don’t make that face,” she softly admonished as if she could read his mind, or she might have read his sad look as disproval of her efforts. “Don’t knock it ‘til you try it.”

She gave him a smile. She gave and gave and gave. Gave him a reason to keep living. She didn’t even know.

He took a sip. It warmed his tongue, his throat, his heart. It ached.

“S’good,” he hummed, honestly surprised. He was telling her the truth. He reached for his wallet with his free hand, retrieving a wad of bills. He always paid in cash.

She waved him off, mock offense on her face. “No, silly. That’s not how gifts work!” Her laugh sounded like church bells. 

She was a gift. For him. His flower. His Honey.

“This one’s on the house,” she assured him, as he hesitantly lowered his wallet. She whispered low, in a tone that burned him up inside. “It’ll be our secret.” His mind felt like it was rebooting. She said it innocently, but he was anything but. She scoffed with a flippant laugh, “Just don’t tell my boss, okay?”

Her boss. He knew about her boss. Tod. With one ‘D’. 

Some mornings, particularly Monday through Thursday, he’d see the pencil-like man stiffly pacing the back of the bar while she and another young girl kept up with demand. Hawkish eyes, always watching. Always judging. Rarely picking up a milk jug himself.

He dominated the register. Peter hated handing him cash. His face reminded him of a cheese grater if it could look unhappy. “Are you sure you don’t want a pastry?” he offered the ‘add-on’ with what was supposed to be a smile. 

Peter’s eyes shot over to his Honey as she was artfully pouring foam, adding her magic to someone else’s cup. She refused to look at Peter and he hated it. It reminded him of a defense tactic. Don’t look at the thing you don’t want to be taken away. As if he was a prized possession that she wanted to hide away from Tod, who might accuse her of having ‘favorites.’

It stirred wild emotions to be thought of that way, especially by her. 

How dare her boss accuse her of any wrongdoing. How dare he threaten her.

“I’m fine,” said Peter, with a chill he hoped Tod could feel. 

He needed to leave. 

He needed to take his Honey and his Lavender Latte and just go. 

He shook his head. His brain was lagging again. He turned away from the straight-backed scarecrow before a robotic ‘thank you for being a customer’ could be responded to. 

Peter waited. Eyes on the floor. Eyes on the exit. Eyes on the windows. Eyes on her, but only briefly. He waited and daydreamed bitterly, waiting for her to call out a name that wasn’t his. 

“Honey Lavender Latte,” his enchantress called out. Hearing her voice caught him from his downward spiral. He made eye contact with her as he took the cup from her hands. Warmth radiated from her eyes, although muted. It was enough to soothe and comfort him. 

She blushed, sheepishly, unable to contain the smile in her voice. “Have a lavender-ly day.”

His mood lifted. Such a silly girl. Witchcraft, indeed. “Thanks, Honey,” he replied, without thinking.

Her big eyes widened for a moment, and her heart quickened. Her breath caught in her throat as she looked away, unsuccessfully hiding her teeth.

Peter would call her that a million times in a row if it would elicit that reaction.

“Have a great day,” Tod interrupted, murdering the moment.

Poor girl. She cowered slightly, like a dog hearing the word ‘no.’ She took a breath and put on a smile, turning back towards her work. 

Tough girl. She didn’t need Peter to defend her. 

He glanced over at Tod with a deadpan expression, and walked out of the shop before he did or said anything else stupid.

The world was full of Tods. It was also full of monsters. Sometimes Peter was one of them. No Tod was truly worth his attention.

Except for that one time. 

A Tuesday morning in the middle of the holiday shopping season. Peter stood in line patiently, arms crossed, gritting his teeth. He glowered behind the bar at Tod, standing too close to his Honey. She gazed up at her boss helplessly, watching him turn red in the face, as the flagpole of a man waved his arms wildly. Clearly agitated, he kept his volume low but his body language screamed at her. 

“What I need your help with is this,” Tod hissed as he towered over her. “I need you to tell me what is the best method for getting information into your head. How can I communicate with you in a way that you’ll understand?” His voice was soft although he flailed like a wavy-arm inflatable man in a car lot. 

“Tell me honestly,” he sneered, dressing her down in front of a line of customers. At this point, Peter didn’t need any superpowers to be able to hear the conversation. She visibly fought the urge to cry. “Do I need to write it down? Do I need to scream at you? Do I need to throw something? Do I need to take you aside and have an hour-long conversation?” She kept her eyes on the ground as he kept pelting her with icicles. “Tell me your preference here. What is it that you’ll respond to?”

The scene came to an abrupt end when the glass of the shop window shattered. The sound silenced him finally. The front door swayed limply, having been yanked off its hinges and slammed into its frame. His Honey glanced around the shop with concern. 

Peter was no longer there.

He didn’t come back that day. 

Neither did Tod.

Some sort of accident, his Honey told him the following week, although he already knew the details. She explained to him why the shop had a new manager, a well-composed woman named Leyla. By the airiness of her mood, he could tell she greatly preferred Leyla’s managerial style.

She was happy, and that made him happy. 

And that should be enough. 

He should leave. He should run. Get as far away from her as possible.

But he was intoxicated by her. Drunk on her sweetness and her Honey Lavender Lattes.

He looked at her like she was the queen of the hive. He’d let her take that crown, any anything else she could ever want, if he had the chance. He’d worship her. He already looked at her like she was a goddess. The devotion in his honey-tinted eyes was clear to anyone who bothered to look.

“Peter Parker!”

Hearing his real name while he stood grinning like a fool in front of his Honey one afternoon made him flinch, sending a shiver up his spine. He turned around, yanked from his reverie, watching three men stroll into the shop. 

He positioned his body in front of her, obscuring her from their view. His hands were tight balls at his sides.

Peter was familiar with two of the faces, but razor-sharp focused on the mountain in a suit they called Filch. He’d seen that greasy face more times than he’d want to admit, shrouded in darkness and cigar smoke. Seated at the hand of Wilson Fisk.

His jaw locked in place.

Filch looked overjoyed to see him. Like they were old friends. Like Peter didn’t know that Wilson Fisk was plotting to move against him. 

“I thought that was you!” he brightly exclaimed. He strolled through the shop, like a cheetah stalking prey. Removing a hat and revealing what little hair he had left underneath. “Long way from Queens. Fancy finding ya all the way out here, eh?”

Peter knew better. The only surprise in this situation was intended for Peter. He’d been followed here. Watched.

His spine went rigid, shoulders into stone. 

Don’t look at the thing you don’t want to be taken away.

He could hear her heart flutter faster behind him. As if she could sense the way he bristled when they arrived. Trouble in her kingdom. A disturbance to the delicate sanctuary she had built, like all of her totems and protection spells were wearing out.

Peter kept his back to her. He kept his eyes trained on the three men, who spread out in a familiar pattern. They were scoping the place. Checking for cameras, other patrons, and all possible exits. 

Don’t look at the thing you want—

“Hey, Sugar, it’s cold outside,” Filch called out, with all the grace of flagging down a hooker. “Whaddya got to warm us up?”

Peter stared straight ahead. Glaring. Fuming.

“Might I suggest the coffee?” his Honey answered. “Just made a fresh pot of the dark roast. It’s good.”

He might have cracked a smile if he wasn’t busy envisioning a scenario where he’d have to kill the three men in the room with just the tools available in a coffee shop.

“Pour me a cuppa that,” Filch replied, his eyes never leaving Peter’s.

Peter only slightly relaxed when he felt her presence back away behind the bar. She grabbed a paper cup and filled it with steaming-hot tar. She set the cup down on the counter and backed away, minding her workstation. “That’ll be $2.50.”

Good girl, Peter thought. He saw Filch go for his breast pocket. 

“I gotcha,” Peter cut in before Filch could move closer. He grabbed the cup and handed it over to his rival’s lapdog. “‘S’on me.”

Filch eyed Peter cautiously, reaching out where both hands could be visible. He took the cup with exaggerated gratitude. “No, I couldn’t possibly—”

“I said I gotcha,” Peter firmly cut him off, the cords in his neck going tight. Peter retrieved a few bills from his coat pocket, never breaking eye contact with his opponents. “We good here?” 

Too many seconds passed with no response. He could feel the twitch of his pulse in his throat. Filch’s eyes drifted back behind the counter. He was too close to her. He studied her in a way that was far too intimate. It made Peter’s skin crawl.

“We’re good,” Filch replied. A smile curved his lips. He held the cup up, toasting him. “Have a great day.” 

Peter swallowed hard as the three men sauntered out. He watched them go, his stomach sinking, bile rising. 

They’d been watching him alright. Who knows how long. He’d been a patron of this shop and he would order from this girl and stare at her with doe-eyes and hearts swirling around his head, out in the open where anyone could see. And they did see. He showed his hand and now the game was over.

“Who’s Peter?” he heard her voice softly ask. 

The illusion was shattered. He turned his head, but couldn’t bear to look at her. He felt sick. Empty. Furious. Petrified.

The monsters were gone now. But they’d be back.

“I’m sorry,” was all he could say, as he walked out of the door.

They’d be back. He’d be there first.

She watched her favorite customer disappear into the night, her eyes wide with longing as she followed him. He disappeared in a few blinks of her eyes.

Something unsettling crawled beneath her skin. Maybe it was longing, but she was familiar with longing. This was new.

Her hands were shaking and she wasn’t sure how that happened either. One minute she was staring into his dreamy, honey-hued eyes, then the next he was running in the other direction. Not unlike their first meeting, a scene which she replayed over and over again in her head, trying to figure out what made him go so rigid.

Who’s Peter?

Peter Parker.

Peter Parker.

She repeated his name in her mind, reciting it like a mantra. She wasn’t great with names, but he told her his name was Ben on that first morning so many months ago, and she made a point to remember his name, and to say his name, because people liked it when you said their name, it made them feel closer to you and she wanted more than anything to be close to him.

She squeezed her eyes shut. Her wheels were spinning again. She used her thumb to push down hard on the center of her opposite palm. The dull pain grounded her back to reality. 

When she opened her eyes, she half expected him to be there. He always seemed to show up when she least expected it. He was a bright spot in her day, despite his gloomy demeanor. He could be dark as a raincloud, but she loved dancing in the rain. 

Or as her co-worker Nasrin teased her one day, he was her “tall, dark, hot cup of coffee.” She hid her face in her hands as Nasrin got to the “sucking him down with a straw” part of the analogy. She was incredibly grateful that he had been standing by the door, and there’s no way he could’ve heard that.

Now she had a first name and a last name and a... another name? And a place — you’re a long way away from Queens. A quick Google search of the names in question pulled up too many generic results. There was a dated article about a Ben Parker who was killed in an armed robbery, but her tall, dark friend couldn’t have had anything to do with that.

It twisted her stomach when she considered the fact that she really didn’t know him. She didn’t know who those guys were, and by the looks of things, she didn’t want to know. She should just drop it.

She did the best she could to keep busy, but there weren’t any more customers after that. She sent a quick text to her new manager that she wasn’t feeling well, and closed the shop early. She took the subway home. 

Once she got on the train, she didn’t make it back to the platform. It was late, but the subway car was still unusually empty, save for a couple of randos sitting at the opposite end of her car. Any other night, the near-solitude would’ve been a blessing. Tonight, something felt off.

Twenty minutes into her ride, just as the train was about to cross the river, it jerkily slowed to a stop. Her cessation of movement stirred her. Her head popped up from the glow of her phone screen curiously. She worried her lower lip as she glanced at the doors and windows, as if she could somehow see whatever it was that was stopping the train. 

She jolted as she felt a hand clamp down on her upper arm. Startled, she looked up at the two other occupants of the train car, now standing inches behind her. Two men that had been seated quietly, also seemingly distracted by their phones. 

“Come on, sweetie pie,” one of them said, towering over her. “It’s time to go.” She didn’t recognize either of them, but her instincts reminded her of the altercation in the coffee shop. These two had the same ‘goonlike’ look.

She tried wrenching her arm away, but the stranger held tight. “Get off,” she hissed. His partner on the left took her other arm, albeit more gently.

“Hey, take it easy,” the other man admonished. “No need to be rude.”

“Yeah, we’re friends,” the first man added, with a greasy smile. Her eyes darted around frantically. Panic set in as she realized she was alone in the subway car. The doors slid open, but there was no platform. Instead, the doors opened to building rooftops. The train had stopped on an elevated track above the street.

“Let’s go,” the gruffer man beckoned, grabbing her arm more tightly. He dragged her through the doorway, on a dark walkway next to the tracks. As soon as he lifted her, she erupted into a fit of screams. She kicked her legs, shrieking for help, but no reply came. She didn’t know if no one could hear her, or if people knew better not to respond.

“Keep it down,” one of the goons ordered coldly, dragging her along. She desperately resisted, letting her legs drop out beneath her. 

She heard a hiss and pop as the subway train sprang back to life behind them. She watched helplessly as it pulled away. 

“A wild one, aren’cha?” the red-haired roughneck tutted, yanking her back up to her feet. “Be a good girl or I’ll throw ya over my shoulder.”

She tried jerking away again, but halted as she faced the edge of the walkway. The dizzying height stunned her into submission. Her knees began to lock up, trembling with fear. 

“Take it easy, Katz,” the man’s partner chided him, albeit insincerely. The two of them practically carried her down the walkway. “You’re scarin’ her.” 

They arrived at an old set of metal stairs leading to the street below. The sharp, steep grade of the steps made her vertigo even worse. 

“No, help! Somebody help!” she hollered, wrapping her fingers in a death grip around the banisters and anything else she could reach. 

“Keep your mouth shut!” the red-head called Katz snapped at her. He reached around and tried to put his beefy hand on her mouth, but she bit down on his flesh the second his fingers reached her lips.

“Ow!” he roared. “Bitch!”

She saw him rear back his fist. Then she saw nothing.

When she came to, her whole body ached. Every muscle throbbing, like she’d been twisted into a pretzel. Her eyelashes fluttered open. Flickering flourescents stung her eyes. Bleary, she gazed around in a dreamlike state until her senses slowly started to awaken. 

She tasted glue. And blood. Took heavy humid breaths through her nose. She was on her side, on a concrete floor in a garage she didn’t recognize. The smell of motor oil and cleaning solution stabbed her nostrils. She gazed up at the shadowy, filthy undercarriage of a Rolls Royce lifted high up above her. Loud bangs jarred her out of slumber further. She faintly wondered who would be jackhammering—

Loud pops. Gunfire.

Her body went rigid, then sprung to life in terror. Attempting to open her mouth to scream, she realized that it was taped shut. Even slight movements of her jaw stung her flesh. She tried to sit up. Her arms tingled, like her limbs had fallen asleep. When she tried to move them she felt a sharp sting on her wrists. 

Alarm started to take hold. She couldn’t move her arms or legs. She glanced down and passed her dirty, blood-stained shirt to the duct tape wrapping her ankles. It might as well have been iron. Her wrists were also firmly bound behind her. Trying to pull them on them felt like ripping off her own skin. She whimpered excruciatingly.

The sounds were getting closer. She glanced around, eyes begging for help. Searching frantically for any reprieve amidst the scattered car parts and junk. 

The gunfire was getting closer.

She scooted, inching her way across the floor until she reached a work table. She was lining her spine up against the table leg when the garage door rattled open. She was out of time. A spill of light from outside lamps flooded in, blinding her. She could only vaguely recognized her own shrieks behind the wall of duct tape.

A group of people stood at the garage doors with their backs to the light. She watched their imposing silhouettes with horror.

A tall, male form approached her, his long black coat trailing behind him. Tears that she couldn’t contain sprang from her eyes. She was trapped, terrified, like a rabbit staring down a wolf. All she could focus on was the gun in the man’s hands as he stalked toward her. She squeezed her eyes closed, waiting to hear a final shot that would end her life.

“Easy, easy,” a familiar, deep, and soothing voice rolled over her. “Shh, don’t be scared, Honey.”

Her breath hitched. Eyes popped open.

Crouched down to her eye level was her tall, dark, and bitter friend. Ben—Peter—whatever his name was— the moment she recognized his soft chocolate eyes and the scattering of a peppery beard on his otherwise boyish face, she felt a wave of relief. 

His leather glove still held firmly onto a pistol. The sight of it dropped her back to reality. Like a bucket of ice water being poured over her body. She shuddered as he scooted closer.

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay,” he placated with a calm voice. “You’re okay.”

She wanted to believe him. He set his gun down on the concrete floor and reached for her with both hands. Another sound of a distant gunshot made her jolt. She recoiled away from his touch, shrinking herself up against the table leg. 

He flinched at her reaction with a pained expression, as if she’d stabbed him. His hands faltered for a moment.

A man’s voice rang out from the group lingering behind, a youthful tone from someone barely older than a teenager. “Boss, we gotta go!” 

A deeper voice called out in response, “C’mon, Pete. The calvary’s on the way. Get her on her feet! ”

Her eyes widened, tears streaming down her face. He stared back at her, his expression turning grim. She gazed up at her savior to realize that this was no true rescue. 

A sickly feeling crept over her as she put the pieces together. Whatever this was, whatever was happening, whatever had happened to her—it was because of Peter. 

Her tall, dark, and dangerous stranger. He grabbed her by the hips, scooting her closer. She wailed as he scooped her body up in her arms, dizzy with how fast and effortless it seemed. He carried her like a toddler having a tantrum, except she was restrained already. 

Peter said nothing as he carried her out of the garage, barely looking at her, as he marched towards an idling, blacked-out SUV. She barely had time to spot the driver, a gorgeous woman with long silver hair. 

She smirked at her, eyes sinister.

When the SUV finally came to a halt, all she knew is that they were in an underground parking garage. Her limbs felt heavy, the assault of adrenaline starting to take its toll. Few words were spoken during the car ride, and none to her. Thick tension filled the air.

She was on the floorboard, her cheek pressed up against the carpet. She gazed at the feet of two men seated in the back. One of them was the fresh-faced teenager she heard calling Peter ‘Boss.’ His name was Miles, she had heard. The other was a rugged, haunted-looking man, with large dark eyes fixed on the windows, ever watchful. Miles called him Miguel, before the older man shot him a look to stay quiet.

“That’s the unifying issue with the men in this car,” the woman driving the SUV snarked. “You all talk too much.”

Her heart hammered at the glint of a knife. Miguel opened a switchblade, grabbing her ankles. 

“Whoa, hang on,” Miles talked to her—the first one to do so. “He’s gonna cut the tape, just so you can move your legs, okay?”

She gazed up at his soft dark eyes, her own still welling with tears. She felt the release on her legs give way as she kicked the rest of the tape off.

“Lights out,” a cold, distant voice ordered. The sound came from the front passenger seat, where Peter sat in tense silence.

Both Miles and Miguel seemed to hesitate, glancing at each other.

“You sure?” Miles questioned.

“He didn’t stutter,” the silver-haired woman replied, definitively. There was a bite in her voice, but it carried with it a tiredness filled with frustration. She sounded more like an older sister jabbing a younger sibling.

The woman popped open her door to get out. “Let’s go, boys. We got groceries inside.” 

The world went black again. A dark hood was thrown over her head, obscuring her view. 

Continue to Part 2

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[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

Can you make a story where dark Peter uses a vibrator on the fem!reader till she squirts and shakes and fucks her till she's cock dumb

yaaa ya ya

THE TEASE- P.B PARKER

Pairing: Darkish! Peter x Fem! Reader

Word Count: 750

Warnings: SMUT, squirting, over stimulation, use of vibrator on reader, biting, degradation kink, darkish stalker content, choking, pet names, peter finishing inside causes he has a breeding kink

“This is your fault.” he whispered, hand tightening around your neck the vibrator buzzed against your swollen bud.

A gasp torn between a moan escaped your lips as his hot breath tickled the shell of your ear, before he gave it a little bite.

“You just had to be such a little tease, with that slutty little skirt of yours.” he growled gaze slipping down to where he held the toy, watching as your ankles dug into the sheets as you attempted to get away from the overwhelming sensations.

It was getting harder and harder to think, and you could barely focus on his words as he coaxed them in your ear.

“I was watching you today, you know. But you didn't see me- did you? No, no too focused on that little lecture hm?” he pressed, rubbing the vibrator in little circular sensations against your clit as you moaned and panted.

It was a mix between pleasure and pain- what he was giving you, and the lines seemed to be blurring over one another the longer you felt your body uncontrollably shake.

“Peter I’m sorry-” you gasped, clawing at his hand down by your cunt, but it wouldn't budge. Peter had you pinned down and spread open- just the way he wanted you.

Vulnerable and alone, for him. He deserved you. You just weren't focused enough on him to notice that.

“You are eh? Cute.”

“I am!” you protested, the whiney tone in your voice rewarded with his hand tightening around your airway. He knew just how to choke you properly, just squeezing the sides of your neck gently.

He had done his research after all, he didn’t want you passing out on him yet. He had so much to tell you.

Still, whether it was from the pressure of the stimulation, your vision began to go fuzzy around the edges. He tsked, shaking his head mockingly as he heard your breaths quicken, knowing you were getting close.

“Listen to how wet you are angel. Your cunnie gettin all messy sweets?” Peter asked gently, making your squeeze your eyes shut, as if you were bracing yourself for what was coming.

His smile turned evil, mocking, and you hated him for it. You hated how well he knew your body and how to tease you, making the rubber band in your core snap past its breaking point.

Every single time he pushed you, and every single time you broke harder than before.

“No, no please.” you begged, yet your words were useless. With a little twist of his wrist, the toy hit just the right spot, the eye contact he gave you the final push to send you over the edge.

You screamed, begging him as the orgasm washed over you. “Shh, shh just let it happen, princess. You need to stop fighting it.” he cooed, hand releasing from your neck to stroke your cheek, a stray tear lingering on the heated skin.

Wetness squirted from you, spraying over the sheets and Peter's hand as you mindlessly babbled to him, your words slurring together as your legs shook harder.

“Atta girl. Attaa girl.” he smiled, removing the toy from its place, setting it down before he pressed a hand down on your lower abdomen to steady you.

“Peter I can't– anymore-” you panted, words coming out between gasps as you attempted to catch your breath.

“You don't have to, but m’gonna use you for a bit okay? Just rest, let me use your princess parts.” he whispered, positioning himself despite your sleepy protests, hands coming up to claw around his biceps.

“Sensitive.” you moaned, body jerking as he wasting no time slipping inside of you, stretching you out around him as he threw his head back and moaned in pleasure- ignoring you.

“You're getting what you deserve. You're supposed to be used angel. But only from me.” he smiled sweetly, grip tightening on your thighs as he spread your legs further apart, watching as your own hands slipped down to palm your tits.

“You like this, don’t you, angel? Just a lil dumb baby, can't think for herself eh?” You nodded, moaning as he sank deeper, brushing up against your g-spot.

“Just not- not inside mkay?” you requested softly, head falling slack against the sheets as sleep spread through your bones. “Whatever you say angel.” he smirked smugly, knowing your request go un funfilled.

Oh well, he thought, beginning to piston into you for his own pleasure. Oh well.

[jahayla-parker]

🎆 Hey J!! Congrats on your 1.5 followers I'm so proud of you girl!! So for my request I was wondering if it could be a Peter Parker one where y/n is somehow transported into Spider-Man: Homecoming, Spider-Man: Far From Home, or Spider-Man No Way Home you pick and chaos ensues 💜

Multiverse : Peter Parker x Real-world!Reader

Descr: short fic in which y/n finds herself in her favorite movie and has to decide how to proceed.

Warnings: I’m not really great at these kind of AUs but other than that, I can’t think of any but let me know!

This sucks; I'm sorry, nothing was coming to me

Y/n bounced her right leg nervously as she looked around. She didn’t understand what was going on. One second she had been rewatching the latest Spider-Man movie, No Way Home from the comfort of her apartment. The next, she was standing in front of a glowing circle, identical to the ones that were portals in the movie she’d been watching. She hesitated briefly but nevertheless let her courage guide her into the multi-dimensional opening.

Y/n squinted as her eyes adjusted to her new surroundings. She quickly realized she’d somehow seemingly entered into the Marvel Cinematic Universe. How that was possible, she wasn’t certain. Had it not been for her literally pinching herself several times, she’d have thought she was simply dreaming. But she wasn’t. This was real.

Y/n slowly made her way across the bridge, stopping the moment she heard the fighting begin. She was actually in No Way Home.. or… in the universe that held the No Way Home events..? She wasn’t sure how to phrase it, it was all so bizarre. Either way, she knew from having seen the movie countless times already, that she ought to run and hide unless she wanted Dr. Octavius or Green Goblin to harm her.

Y/n let her feet guide her away from the immediate threat, only looking up when her legs came to a halt. She blinked rapidly as she found herself standing in front of Doctor Strange’s Sanctum. Of course she’d managed to make it here. Perhaps she should just go with the flow and try to help. After all, she knew how things would go, maybe she could prevent Tom Holland’s char Peter from getting hurt and May from dying.

That idea turned out too optimistic as Peter understandably was weary of y/n. It was one thing to bring people who knew him/Spider-Man from other universes. But a universe in which he was actually just a character and not real, that was another thing to digest. Nevertheless, Peter didn’t want to take any chances so he let her help him, Ned, and MJ.

It was a bit difficult at first to get Peter to trust her. As in his eyes, she seemed to be able to tell the future and was offering to stop the bad things before they happened. Luckily, having seen Far From Home, y/n understood why he was so weary of such a thing being too good to be true. So even when Peter trapped her in a sheet of webs as he demanded answers he could understand, she remained calm.

Once he had heard her out and understood that she meant no harm, Peter let y/n guide him on what to do and what not to do. There were some moments of chaos nonetheless as they were trying new things that y/n knew Peter hadn’t done in the movie before. But, she figured it was worth all the danger and chaos because she was helping her favorite superhero.

Only that too was much more intense than y/n had anticipated. Yet, she was simultaneously thrilled to be playing an active part in the movie she loved so much. Especially since they were now near the ending and May hadn’t died!

The only issue is y/n now had to return to her own universe. As much as she wanted to stay and make a place for herself in this one, she refused to risk ruining the MCU by accident. So, with a sigh, y/n closed her eyes as she said goodbye to this universe before stepping back into hers.

Taglist: @justapurrcat @natswife-marvelicious @directioner5life @ell0ra-br3kk3r @galaxyholland @bigbirdstwins @mcushvft @fishingirl12 @raajali3 @theslayerofthevampires @wonderland2425

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[rainforest-daisies]

New Year, partygirl

Character: Peter Parker x Gn!reader

Word count: 636

Synopsis: A loud New Years party can make a man miss his one true love, though they are only a few feet, or less, away.

Tags: alcohol, tipsy!reader, annoying partygoers, really short blurb!!

Music blared In the large speakers spread around the room, popular songs playing on repeat. It was New Year’s Eve, and you had decided to celebrate at a party.

You stood by the snack table with some of your friends, leaning against the wall as you gazed at the couples gathered in their own small groups, some were even talking to your boyfriend, Peter. Trailing your eyes to him, you would see his nose scrunch up when one of them told a joke, a glint in his eyes while his face lit up for everyone to see.

A flutter of your heart figuratively jolted you, his loving eyes met yours, a gentle smile tugging at his lips. His hands were in his jean pockets, fiddling with a loose thread he had yet to clip from the fabric. His eyes roamed your body, how every item of clothing clung to your body, the very body he would worship as if it were the possession of a goddess. To him, it was.

It was only someone snapping in front of his face that directed his zoned-out gaze away from you, both parties feeling embarrassed for the shameless staring his eyes had done. A few moments later, you felt your phone buzz from your pocket

“You look so gorgeous tonight. I’ve seen dozens of guys staring at you, I’m lucky to have you looking at me:)”

Before you could read the text, your friend pulled you to another person to introduce. Politely, you shoved your phone back into the pocket of your sweater, promising to check it after the soon-grueling conversation with a new stranger.

That was an hour ago.

The message was still unread, and every time Peter had a chance to talk to you, the bodies you had surrounded yourself with were already moving to a new area. He had entertained himself at the crowded ping pong table, a game of beer pong between two obvious frat boys, cheering for the one on the left. He had no idea who they were, but it was better than chasing after you, or fighting for the last Pepsi all night.

He watched as you took shots, sang karaoke, and danced with your friends, making sure you were safe all night. He cared about you too much to let something happen.

In your tipsy state, your feet trudged their way over to him and swung your heavy arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight bear hug. The crowd you had followed dispursing throughout the house, Peter couldn't help but think ‘finally’

“I missed you tonight,” you spoke into his ear, words that he could barely hear over the blaring music, which had seemed to get louder over the past hour.

“I missed you too. Do you wanna go sit down? Maybe get some water-” he was interrupted by someone yelling, everyone brushing past your figures and rushing to their dates.

“5!” Everyone cheered, you looked up to Peter.

“4!” You cheered along this time, yet much quieter than the crowd, almost as quiet as a whisper, your hands moving from his neck to his chest.

“3!”

“2!”

“1!”

His chapped lips met yours, hand scrunching your shirt as it slid up and down, butterflies filling your stomach. His tongue gently grazed your lip, tasting your flavored lipgloss.

cheering erupted from everyone, the deafening yells making your ears ring. You could sense the smile on his face when you pulled away, not ready to open your eyes once more. His lips tingled, the same way his body did when his Spidey senses were active, the same way his body did when he was around you.

“Here’s to a new year,” his lips left a peck against yours, “with my party girl.” Another, softer, calmer peck against your glossed lips.

[skyfallslayer]

The Daughter of The (Dare)Devil || Hiatus Recap

Please read my apology here if you haven't. It explain why I've been gone so long. And since it has been several months, I've decided to write a little recap. Feel free to read it before you move on to the new story, or not.

|| SEASON 1 ||

Set pre-canon by a several months, is story 1: 'Welcome Home The Blood and Bruises'. This story shows how Matt ends up screwing his "foolproof" plan of never-ever telling his daughter that he's a vigilante. The beginning scene shows Matt a little banged up while his daughter, Kaila (age 14), takes care of him. This causes a flashback to a year earlier where his plan falls apart. Matt arrives home in a bad state, causing him to faint and for his daughter to find her, thus revealing his secret. Eventually, realizing that's there's no way to stop this man, Kaila just accepts it and agrees to help patch him up.

Story 2: 'I'd Burn The World For You'. For some reason this is still one of my favorites that I've written despite the angst that I throw here and there. In this one, the story's set after DD Episode one, where Matt and his best friend, Foggy had just hired an assistant that so happen to be their first client, Karen. Now, remember, Kai's a bit skeptic in the beginning and Foggy's just hungry (lol). Meanwhile, being the curious person she was, Karen starts asking Matt about his past, like 'We're you married?' or 'Did you have a girlfriend?'. Which Matt encourages, and replies with the story of how his daughter came into his custody. Flashback to fourteen years ago, the best friends have graduated college and have passed their Bar exam. Matt's in his new apartment and telling Foggy about how his fling, Aka: Kai's Mother, who's name is Mary (Remember that people), is trying to contact him via phone call but he's ignoring. Foggy eventually slips out to get them lunch, and before you know it, Mary drops baby Kai off in front of the door. Matt manages to call and get Foggy to come back, dumbfounding his best friend which soon insist 'It's just a prank, bro'. Nerves are shooting through the roof as they get to the hospital to get a DNA test to find out of Matt's really this baby's father. Well... surprise, surprise, he is. Foggy, being the best damn friend is his, is discussing some options with the nurses since Matt's in his own head, and is soon pulled out of it when one of the nurses hands over baby Kai to him. Matt immediately becomes a girl dad, falling in love and swearing to the beyond that he'll love and protect this child for as long as he lives. Foggy's secretly happy when he hears Matt wants to keep her, and the flashback ends when him giving her the name: Kaila Jackie Murdock (Got to give his old man some love, am I right?). The story finishes with Karen almost in tears, but Matt reassures her that everything's okay. Especially now that he has the family he secretly always wanted.

Story 3: 'Crossing The Line'. Another personal fav of mine. So this is set in episode seven "Stick". A man named Wilson Fisk has entered the ring, and Matt has earned the nickname 'The Devil of Hell's Kitchen' - Foggy insist that this vigilante is up to no good, while Karen is the opposite - The story splits between Matt and his Mentor, Karen getting herself into trouble, and some Uncle/Niece bonding time.

1. Foggy owes Kaila another showing for the Hunger Games as they both ditch their plans to go find Karen. - They end of finding her, and she takes them to the person she was meeting up with. - Karen reveals that she's been working with Ben Urich to uncover the Union Allied Scandal. 2. Matt soon finds himself meeting Stick again, his asshole mentor who up and left him 20+ years ago. - They end up back in his apartment, where Stick is slowly figuring out that Matt's got someone living with him before asking for his help. The Blind lawyer agrees, which he regrets later on. - A Time skip later, Stick figures out about Kai and insults Matt which causes a massive fight. Matt ends up winning and threatens Stick to never come near his daughter, which ends in laughter and Matt being frustrated that his tainted past is starting to touch his kid.

Story 4: 'I've Got The Devil Inside Me'. Let's add more angst to the plate. The next morning Matt discovers that his partners are investigating Union Allied, much to his dismay, but he agree to help as long as they're "cautious" (Yeah, some big talk from a blind man who fights crime at night). This eventually leads to Matt and his daughter talking after she arrives to the apartment being destroyed, and encourages him to talk to her if something's up. The next day at school, Kaila witnesses Fisk's big speech on TV on how he's declared war on 'The Masked Man'. - This leads to Ben, and the gang trying to figure out what they can dig up to bring Fisk down (And it's certainly not a pretty road) - This also leads to the reveal that Fisk is doing business with a slumlord that's raising a client of theirs rent (Aka: Ms. Cardenas). Out of options, Matt decides to try to get inside the head of the woman Fisk loves the most, Vanessa. Kaila tags along as they try feeling her out at the art gallery she works out. However, Luck's not on their side when the Man of the hour himself arrives, planting himself inside the Murdocks' heads. When Kaila arrives home the next day from school, she finds her father staring at his suit, then engulfs her into a much needed hug. She encourages him to open up again, and he reveals that Ms. Cardenas was killed, and he was filling up with rage to the point he wants to kill the Kingpin. Eventually, she pulls him from those thoughts, and they parted ways as he heads out for the night. This story ends with Matt coming home in the worst state she's possibly seen him in, and just before she can figure out what to do, her Uncle arrives and discovers the family's dirty secret.

Story 5: 'The One Where The Uncle Finds Out'. One of my favorite, but most painful episode to watch. It opens up with Foggy's POV as he stumbles in all buzzed, and demanding they make Fisk pay for what he's done to their client. He gets more than what he bargain for, and it's a race through time for him and his Niece to get Matt stable. They eventually contact Claire who cleans him up. As soon as Matt's up, Foggy can't hold back and demands for answers. The argument starts, and in between that, Foggy makes a decision to lie to Karen that Matt's sick and he can handle it alone. Foggy also learns during their heated moment that his best friend can hear heartbeats, which shatters all the trust he has, and even questions if their friendship was even real. Eventually, while Kai tries to do her homework in the living room, they exploded at each other again. Foggy finally has the guts to ask Matt why he started all this, and his hesitant to spill while his daughter's in the room. Foggy pushes back, saying she has more rights than him to know what's going on, so... she stays as he spills the truth (Which it's more detailed than he initially told Kai). Foggy stares in disbelief when Matt reveals he doesn't want to stop crime fighting, no matter how hard it gets. Foggy tries to pull the "friendship card", which has no affect since this city "needs" the mask vigilante. This results in Foggy telling him to do whatever he wants, and if he gets killed in the process, he'll take Kaila under his wing -- but to remember that he's not her father, and that he'll feel guilty pretending to be. Foggy storms out of the apartment while saying "He would have told Matt he had a crime fighting life". The next few days were interesting - Karen came to visit him after his "car accident" - Claire ended any romance between them - Father Lantom told him that Devil inside him was an angel once, and applies towards him - It was all enough for him to realize he needs to stay alive for the ones he love. He wasn't expecting when he got home for his daughter to still be pissed at him, and leave to spend the night at Karen's for some space. The story ends with the young girl getting taken by Wesley.

Story 6: 'No Good Deed...' Goes unpunished they say. This story shows how much Kaila is like her Dad in a lot of ways. It opens up with Matt calling Karen, wondering if she made to her place since she hadn't texted him. Wesley is revealed to the one to kidnap her, and that she wasn't the originally target, but he was going to make do. He reveals that he's bitter that Karen is like a dog with a bone, and won't let what happen at Union Allied stop her from uncovering the truth. Amused, Kaila taunts, which is cut off quickly when he lays his gun onto the table. He rants on about Karen finding Fisk's mother, which is evidence she can use to bring him down on trial. Kaila then asks why he just doesn't kill her already, which he reveals would be troublesome if he did since she's a daughter of a well respect lawyer, and has ties to a police officer not under Fisk's thumb (Brett). He instead tells her she's offering her a job, a job where she'll convince everyone she knows that Fisk is not the "bad guy". Kaila bites back saying she would never, which Wesley threatens her that he'll kill her family before finishing her. But... something snaps inside her, and as Wesley went to answer his phone, she grabs a hold of the gun, aiming it at him. His poker face is incredible, and tries to play it off that it's unloaded, but she threatens him to stay away and let her leave. She doesn't get far before he tackles her, and proceeds to strangle her. They wrestle around, and fight for the gun which eventually goes off. To her horror she realizes she shot him point blank in the heart. His phone starts ringing again, and Kaila's on the verge of a nervous breakdown as she grabs her belongings and runs away. Kaila shocks Karen when she arrives at her apartment, and spews out what Wesley knew and wanted before revealing that she had killed him by accident. Karen, who seems way too calm for this, tells her she'll take care of it - she disposes the gun in the Hudson and calls Matt that everything's "okay". Karen patches the young girl up, and reveals her trouble past to the girl. They promise each other to keep this a secret from anyone, and Karen promises Kai that she'll be by her side whenever she needs it. The story ends with a guilt filled Kaila meeting a strange boy at a coffee shop, and Foggy rushing in that they found a way to stop Fisk once and for all.

Short Story 1: 'The New Suit'. Season One wraps up with Ben's Funeral, and the troublesome trio allowing Kaila to dip her toes into the dangerous waters that'll bring down Fisk. Eventually, the masked man gets a confession from Detective Hoffman that manages to get the Kingpin behind bars... or so they thought. Their celebration was cut short when Fisk escapes custody, and Matt rushes out to stop him. The story finishes with the lawyer coming home with a victory under his belt... and a new suit (One that Kaila approves). Matt promises he'll be a better father, and Kaila promises she'll open up more. *Foreshadowing Indeed On Both Counts*

|| SEASON 2 ||

I swear with each season there's always more and more angst.

Story 7: 'The Point of No Return (Murdock v Murdock)', Part one of the mini series. - Opens up with months passing after the Lawyers' victory of putting Fisk away. Kai has a job now, a new friend name Jayden, but is unfortunately showing signs of PTSD from the whole killing Wesley situation. Meanwhile, Nelson & Murdock is booming! But the euphoria they all feel ends soon when they're stuck with a strange client, Grotto, who soon gets attacked by the soon be dubbed 'Punisher'. Flash the next morning, Foggy's on his way to the hospital to meet Karen and Grotto, only to run into his niece who's looking for her dad. They soon put two-and-two together, and race across the rooftops to find Matt. They eventually find him disoriented from the gun shot he took to the head. - Later, he wakes up to Foggy scolding him and warning him not to orphan his kid before heading off. Short time after that, Matt goes temporarily deaf, scaring Kai but not really fazing him since he's still in "shape" to be DD tonight. Karen comes by telling them about Grotto and him being "bait" to lure out a big mob boss for the DA. Kaila and her eventually talk, the teenager's guilt about Wesley coming through while her father slips out to fix his suit. - Faking an emergency, Kai gets Matt to come home and this leads to an argument. Heated words are exchanged, and Matt ends up telling her that he wouldn't have to worry about his injures 'if she wasn't here'. Instant regret happens, but nothing more can be said except Kai's FU that ends the story.

Story 8: 'The Darkest Time With Our Thoughts (Murdock v The World)'; Part two of the mini series. Starts off with the house divided, Kai's angry and Matt's depressed (As they both should be). Nelson & Murdock (& Page) are about to head off with DA to watch their client be bait to a mob boss, but due to Matt's mind being elsewhere, Foggy urges him to go home and try to make it up with his kid (Spoiler: He puts the damn costume on instead). - Meanwhile. Kai wants to be left alone, yet life throws her a curveball when a clearly unwell man shows up at her door, asking for her father and Foggy. She soon finds herself fighting for her life, almost getting the upper hand before being taken away (Foggy ends up getting that dreadful call from Brett). Matt suddenly wakes up chained to the rooftop, face-to-face with the Punisher. Matt tries playing detective while Frank basically tells him to STFU. There's a brief heated exchange between them, then Frank gets ready to finish his mission, and was even nice enough to let Matt listen to the voicemails he has before he decides to finish him off. Matt tries to drown them out by moving the chains around to hid his secret ID, but that all changes when the last frantic message from Foggy reveals that someone took his daughter and he needs to get to the police station. The Murdock begs Frank to let him go, and he does. - The story ends with Matt falling apart.

Story 9: 'I'm Trembling, But I'll Protect You (Love v Death)'; Last part of the mini series. The story opens with Kaila having a very interesting dream (I highly suggest you guys at least read that part again, there's a lot of foreshadowing for future stories). She wakes up and is met with her capturer who tells her that he's the brother of Nelson & Murdock's first client, who they apparently failed (Remember this later, also). Meanwhile, the trio is racing through all the paperwork they have to find out who this client is. They three of them have a nice heartfelt talk that ends up striking an idea in Matt. Matt ends up figuring out their first 'official' client was 'John Healy', the man hired by Fisk to kill. Before anything could be done, Matt gets a call from Frank telling him to meet up; He does, surprised to find out that Frank knows where Kai is. This also leads to an early ID reveal with Karen. Matt has a standoff with the kidnapper, negotiating back and forth to by Frank some time to take the shot. Kai is rescued, and the Murdocks shared heartfelt speeches and hugs while Frank disappears into the mist. - Kai's taken to the hospital by Brett (Who unknowingly knows DD's ID) and treated for her leg injury. The story ends with Kai accepting why her father does this job and is happy to be home.

Story 10: 'A Glimmer Amongst The Sinners'. The story opens up with a flashback to 15 years ago, where a young Matt is trying to figure out how to be a father to a baby he can't see (while also trying to find her mother, Mary, for answers). He feels like he's falling off the deep end, but lucky Foggy is there by his side, helping him along the way, which he's forever grateful for. Flash forward to Matt listening to his daughter sleep, happy that she's home. Now, at lot of things happen - Kaila eggs her dad to ask Karen out; Karen digs around about Frank's Past; Frank gets abducted and Matt must find him; Foggy, Kai & Karen head to the Castle house for clues; Then Frank & Matt escape and have a heartfelt moment, leading up to Frank being arrested by Brett who gets a promotion by bringing him in. Oh... the story should end right here, right? Nope! More plot lines! We finally get a Karedevil kiss, which makes Matt get on cloud 9 until his old flame shows up in his apartment. Elektra tries to get Matt to be her lawyer to get her father's money back, which he strongly declines. She then tries pushing back before accidently meeting Kaila. Elektra acts all hurt and broken up when Matt throws her out. The next day goes smoothly in the office, Matt & Karen go on a date, while Foggy tries helping his niece with her friend Jayden who seems to be avoiding her since the kidnapping. Matt has a brief interaction with Elektra again on the phone during his date, he tells her to F off, and him and Karen head back to her place for some romance. The story finishes with Kai coming home to find Jayden ready to talk.

And that wraps this up! I'm finishing the next story as we speak. I'm aiming to release it either by the end of next week or the following. So sorry again this took so long, and thanks for sticking around! ❤️

-Taglist is open if anyone wants to join-

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@your-not-invisible-to-me @ohtacosindrome

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[spider-man-199999]

Pacifier pt 3

pairing: Peter Parker x Fem!Reader;

word count: 5K

part1 part2

warnings: mentions of sex ; Peter is younger than the reader, but still 18. Reader is around 20. Peter is trying to pin reader even though he is younger.

summary: In this one you’re hired as Morgan’s babysitter (and low-key underpaid Stark!assistant). Looking after a little girl isn’t too hard, but looking after her “big bother” as well, definitely is.

an: Peter and reader are just Tony's kids at this point. I've never really written anything about people actually being in a relationship so apologies if it's kinda sucky.

"No, we're not making an official Avengers tik-tok account, forget it." You told Peter, who had been begging you for days now.

"But it's going to be soo good! People will see the silly, goofie side of everyone and that way we can build more trust!"

"Pepper, please back me up here!"

"Peter actually has a point." Pepper said.

All of you were sitting at the dinner table, it was the first family dinner since the Starks had come back from their vacation.

"Tony, please!" you looked at him, begging him to support you this time. "Do you seriously think anyone would want to participate in supid dance trends or prank wars?"

"I'm a great dancer!" Tony said, he was taking Peter's side to mess with you.

"I cannot believe this is actually about to happen. Imagine making Steve do a tik-tok dance. Or anyone for that matter. Imagine Tony doing the makarena in the iron suit!"

"It's going to be hilarious, exactly my point!" Peter whined, drinking some of the orange juice he had poured for himself.

"I'm not doing the makarena, I have a daughter!''

"Should have thought about it before backing up Spider-man on that one!"

"Should have thought about it before back up Spider-man on that one!" Tony mocked your tone "The world should see what these hips can do! We're definitely making a tik-tok account now!"

Your "relationship" with Peter was still in the closet, since the first month wasn’t over, you didn't really feel comfortable sharing it with anyone, especially Tony. Peter on the other hand was pretty much settled down. He spent every free minute he had at the tower just to be with you, which was really getting in the way of your studying. He was a lot of help with Morgan, most of the time you felt like both of them shared one brain cell. It made so much sense now why Tony loved Peter like his own son. And that being the case, your secret relationship with him was in the clear.  

You gave Morgan a tissue, helping her wipe away some of the food that was on her face. She giggled because the corner tickled her nose, turning to look at you. You smiled at her, petting her head as she continued eating with her spoon, spilling most of the contents all over the table. 

"Tony, do you even know what tik-tok is?" you asked.

"I'm not that told, of course I know!"

"It's that video app that Morgan watches on your phone." You explained anyway, sure he had no idea what the conversation really was about. 

"It's that? Then no, we're definitely not making a tik-tok account."

---

Somehow Peter managed to persuade all of you into this. But if you think about it, he persuaded you into dating him, he could practically get anything he wanted. And because of this absurd idea, you were now setting up a phone on a tripod, placing it in the middle of the living room. Peter was next to you in his spider suit and the other Avengers were talking on the couch while you two worked. 

"So you guys have to go rounds?" you asked, looking over at Peter. He had his mask off, holding it in one hand. 

"Yeah, and after we film, we have to put the names after every round with an X on an O, depending on who managed to hide in time."

"Sometimes I think you started this whole thing because you don't have any friends." 

"I have friends?"

You took a few steps back, seeing what was in the frame. 

"Yeah? Like who? And you're not allowed to say me, we're not friends."

"Well, there's Ned and MJ."

"I don't think this is going to work out."  You said, looking at the others. "You literally have gigantic, muscular men, trying to hide in a minimalistic living room. And then there's also the Hulk."

“Did you just thirst over muscular men right in front of me?” Peter laughed, placing his hand on your waist. Usually you would tense up when he did that, but since you were now dating, you didn't.  "Trust me, it will be fun!" 

"Mask on please, get everyone in position." 

He nodded, putting his mask on and telling everyone to gather in front of the camera and pose. You stood behind the phone, looking at the frame. Everyone was in it. They were gathering like they were about to take a picture, standing in cool superhero poses. 

"Okay guys, you look poster worthy. I'll count to 3 and all of you have 5 seconds to hide somewhere before the camera takes a picture!" you explained. Peter had ran through this with them before but you felt the need to explain again. "1, 2, 3..." 

And you pressed record. Pure chaos was unleashed after that. Peter shot a web and stuck to the ceiling, Thor jumped over the couch along with Cap, laying flat on it so they were not visible. Hulk just grabbed the couch with both of them on it, lifting it and putting it in front of him sideways, while the others just fell on the ground on top of each other. Natasha practically jumped on an armchair that got knocked over from her force and got out of the frame entirely. The 5 seconds were over and you were barely holding in your laughter at that point. You had expected this to go badly but not nearly as bad as it actually was. 

You did a few more rounds, each one more ridiculous than the previous. And after that you got to work, writing out the winners and losers to each round in your notes. Now all that was left was editing it and posting. 

—

You were sitting at your desk, biting your lip as you were concentrating on figuring out where to place all the names and scores on the screen so they wouldn’t block out any important things in the video. Or should you have them appear at the end? Your work was interrupted by Peter walking in your room, making your head turn. He had the mask in his hand, still wearing the suit. 

“Hi, pumpkin!” he said, which made you raise an eyebrow at him and squint your eyes in displeasure. 

“That sounded ridiculously cheesy and I really hate it.’’ 

“I thought introducing some kind of pet name into this relationship would be nice, I need to change your name in my phone.” 

“Think of another one.”

He walked over to you, a gentle kiss was immediately placed on the top of your head while his eyes wandered to your phone, looking as the video played with half of the scorings written in the middle of it. 

“Ooo, did I win?” he asked, his hand resting on your shoulder.

“Mmmm, you didn’t lose definitely, but you lost a point on the third round when you stuck yourself in fetal position to Hulk’s back and he started spinning in circles trying to get you off.” 

“That’s not fair! I hid well!”

“But the camera still saw you, I don’t make the rules.”

He kissed your cheek before laying down on your bed. You finished up the video and hit upload before following him. It was still new and uncomfortable for you to be affectionate with him in public, but your room offered a safe space to try. You wouldn’t shut him down when he tried making a move on you in front of the others like you used to do, but initiating intimacy yourself was really out of the picture. He put his phone away when he saw you get up, opening his arms. You lay on top of him as he wrapped his arms in a warm embrace. You relaxed your weight on him, head pressed against his chest. Cons to having a spider-man boyfriend was you were never worried you’d crush him.

“I need to say something and I don’t want it to turn into a fight.” he said, making you look at him.

You placed your hands on top of his chest, resting your head on them as you watched him. 

“What is it about?” you asked.

“Since the month of us trying to date is almost over…” 

“Pete… I know what you’re gonna say and the month isn’t over yet. Please don’t let it get over your head before it actually happens.”

“But we’re a week away from a month!”

“I know but a lot can happen in a week… You know exactly how much.” You told him, referring to the time you two had spent alone together almost a month ago. 

“Okay, okay, baby mice steps. I get it.”

“Precisely.”

You tried to relax after the conversation, laying your head on his chest while he stroked your back gently. For some reason it was just not working to calm you down. You turned to look at him again and he was already staring, a soft smile painted across his lips. A soft sigh escaped yours, your hands reaching out to wrap around his neck and pull yourself closer to him. Still feeling uneasy from what he said, you slid your body on one of his sides, hiding your face in his neck. He giggled softly because you tickled him in the process, squeezing you gently.

“I’m sorry.” you mumbled against his neck, your hand drawing soft circles on his chest. 

Peter hummed softly, raising your chin with his hand to place a soft kiss on your lips. 

“It’s okay, I know I’m impatient.” 

“No, I think you’re being reasonable. I’m the one who’s overreacting.”

He kissed you again, slowly and gently, his lips moving against yours while he still held your chin with his hand.

“You’re alright, babe. Baby steps.” 

You nodded, letting your head fall on his shoulder this time, placing soft kisses on his jawline.

“Baby steps.” You repeated in a whisper.

You enjoyed cuddling with him more than you had anticipated, neither of you expected your primary love language to be physical touch. But Peter didn’t mind that even one bit, he loved touching you for comfort, his hands were on your legs whenever you two went somewhere with the car, no matter who was driving. He would make sure to place his hand one the small of your back whenever you two would pass each other in a hallway. His knee would touch yours under the dinner table when he was over. It was subtle and it brought the both of you so much comfort and adrenaline. You were basically hiding in plain sight. 

You had no idea if Tony was onto the two of you yet or not. Peter was over way more than he used to be, he even sneaked in a few times during the night. The alarms wouldn’t go off because, well it was Peter after all. It wasn’t like you were trying to sneak in someone who wasn’t registered into the security systems. And Tony adored the kid, so he was extra happy about having him around more. Things were going pretty smoothly if anyone had to ask you.

—

You hated to admit, but Peter was right. This whole tik-tok thing was an absolute hit. It humanized all of the Avengers so much that people started trusting and liking them more than ever before. You were getting millions of likes and comments on all of the videos you uploaded, which were more or less different trends. It was annoying that you had to run the whole account, like you didn’t have enough work to do. 

Today you filmed the tortilla slap challenge with Bucky, Natasha and Sam. Peter desperately wanted to join it but everyone was against the idea of him publicly announcing his secret identity, especially for a tik-tok. So you made him mop up the floor after, since he wanted to be involved so badly. 

All of them went into a meeting straight after that, leaving you with 10 minutes to run and grab a coffee for everyone. The 10 minutes you had were definitely not enough to make it back with so many cups. And to top it all off, the Parker family was on a mission to make it extra difficult for you. Peter was spamming your messages begging you to listen to “Yellow hearts” by Ant Saunders because somehow it was “exactly describing the relationship you two had.” And you were walking down a street, trying to reply to a message, hands full of coffee cups, when you ran into Peter’s aunt - May.

“Oh, Y\N! Lovely seeing you!” she said with a bright cheerful smile, making you look up from your phone. You were trying to support the cups with your chin while you texted, because all of them couldn’t fit in the paper bag. 

“May! Hey!” you replied once you shook off the surprise, shoving the phone in your back pocket.

“How are you, sweetheart? I’ve been hearing about you lately, but not seeing enough.” she smiled, placing a hand on your arm as she spoke. 

“I’m alright, a little busy actually. Are you here to pick up Parker JR after the meeting?”

“Yes, and I thought I could drink some coffee while I’m waiting. Peter recommended the place.”

“He did, didn’t he?” you asked, trying to mask how frustrated and overwhelmed you were becoming. “I need to run, I’m already late.”

“It’s okay, we can catch up another time? Dinner over at Queens this week?” she asked, but you were already walking away from her. 

You turned your head to look at her in a little bit of a shock, not expecting a whole dinner invitation to her house. Your fears turned out to be true, Peter had told her about dating you.  

“I’m very busy, I’ll tell the spider whenever I can.” You smiled politely at her before walking away, in the most rapid pace you could manage without actually running.

--

“Hey, kid, these are for you.” you heard Tony say as he walked into the living room.

You were helping Morgan with a coloring book, or rather watching her color in it from time to time while you read through your biology textbook. Exams were coming up and you didn’t have a second to spare. Tony’s voice captured your attention, making you look up and see him hold a beautiful bouquet of yellow and white roses, decorated with little daisies.

“For me? Thank you Tony, but that’s so weird.”

“They’re not from me. They were left for you at the door.”

“The front door?”

“No, by the doggy door.”

You rolled your eyes at his comment, getting up to look at the flowers yourself. In the meantime Tony took the card out reading out loud. You tried stopping him by grabbing the card but he lifted his hand up, making you jump to try to get it but failing. 

“Thank you for coming to dinner last night, love, your secret boyfriend.” he read, looking at you in shock “You have a boyfriend?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Does Peter know about you having a boyfriend?”

“I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Yes, and he’s not sending you flowers at your door for having dinner with him. Who is he?”

“Tony, you’re not my dad.”

Your words made him snap out of his protective mode, giving you the flowers and the note. You took them in your arms reluctantly, reading the note to be sure he was actually right about what was written on it. Tony looked at you with an expression that you couldn’t really decode, it looked like shock, pain and worry at the same time. You were going to kill Peter, for real this time.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to sound like that.” you said, breaking the silence that had fallen upon the two of you.

He placed an arm on your shoulder, squeezing it lightly. 

“Nothing to apologize for here, I know I can never replace your parents, I’m not trying either.” Tony gave your shoulder a pat, turning around to look at Morgan, who had stopped coloring and was now listening to the two of you.

“Thank you… For worrying about me, I appreciate it. I know I don’t say it enough but I value your presence in my life, or rather my presence is yours.”

“Please don’t make this more awkward than it already is.”

“Usually I’m the one who says that.”

“Would you look at that, your boyfriend has made you cheesy.” 

You shook your head in disgust from his words, watching him as he walked over to Morgan and lifted her up in his arms, spinning around as he hugged her. It was your queue to leave before it got any weirder, so you gathered your books and left as fast as you could.

Shutting the door of your room behind you, phone on your ear as you had already dialed Peter’s number. He picked up on the fourth ring, right before you gave up on this call. 

“Hey!” His cheerful voice on the other side of the line.

“What’s with those flowers?” you asked, cutting right to the chase.

“Don’t you like them? May said it was what I was supposed to do after you came over for dinner and she said flowers would be a ni-”

“I love the flowers, but Tony found them before I did.”

“Oh.”

“Thank you for not being dumb enough to not sign your name on that card.” you sighed, placing the bouquet on your desk next to the messy piles of notebooks. “Now he thinks I have a boyfriend.”

“But you do have a boyfriend.” he laughed softly. You could hear his smile on the other side of the line.

“I know this label makes you very happy, I’m glad it does, but please be more careful next time.”

“Alright, bet, next time I want to bring you flowers I’ll stick them to the ceiling of your room with my webs so no one else can see them.”

“Now that’s a thought.” you laughed, looking at the ceiling just to make sure he hadn’t already done that.

In reality, you weren’t mad at him for sending you flowers. You loved them, it was a very nice gesture and it made you feel warm on the inside. Sure, it wasn’t the best way to receive them and it stressed you out, but at the end of the day, you had a very good boyfriend that wanted to make you happy.

— 

Peter walked in the apartment holding a red rose in his hand. His smile was spread across his face as the elevator door opened in front of him, leading him into the big living space. He came here straight from school, after his Math quiz. He didn’t bother going home first to leave his backpack, went straight to a flower shop to get you a rose and head to the Stark tower so he could invite you on a very special date. He expected you to be watching over Morgan alone and it caught him by surprise when he saw Tony sitting on the couch. You were standing next to him, reading over something which he had probably given you. Tony turned his head, noticing it was Peter with the side of his eye. 

“Hey, kid.” he said.

Peter froze in his spot, his heart pounding in his chest from the fear of how this was going to play out. He had to think of something really fast. He threw the rose in the air as Tony’s head moved to face you again for a second, shooting a web at it to stick it to the ceiling. 

“What’s with that rose?” Tony asked a second later, after he processed what he had seen, turning fully around to look at Peter.

“What rose?” Peter replied, looking around, his hands empty now. 

“I swear you were holding a rose just now.”

“No, I wasn’t. Maybe you saw my Math quiz with this big red A written on it.” The paper was folded in half and shoved in his back pocket because he was in such a rush to get here, he didn’t have time to put it in his bag. He took the paper out of his pocket, showing it to Tony. 

Their conversation made you look up at Peter. You knew he was lying. The tone of his voice sounded nervous and like he was going to crack under the pressure. 

“You need to work on your lying skills.” Tony said, turning his back to him and looking at you again. You looked at Peter, then at Tony and your gaze fell on the papers. 

“Everything seems fine.” You told Tony, handing him the red folder back. He had hired some new engineers for his labs, helping him and wanted you to review their work just in case. It wasn’t like you were majoring in engineering, your passion was biology and biochemistry, but you just knew math well enough to spot any mistake if there was any.

“Okay, thank you. You’re free now” He told you, reading through the folder again. 

Ten minutes later Tony was still sitting on the couch, reading through the folder. You and Peter silently decided to study on the kitchen table across from each other. You were already engrossed in the textbook you were reading, highlighting, writing things down in your notebook, sticking sticky notes in the book. You were trying your best to ignore Peter’s constant fidgeting in his seat, the annoyed flipping through pages with sighs escaping his lips. His hands moving on the table when he would get bored, making you flinch in your seat, worried he would try to touch you in front of Tony. You heard silent ripping of paper, trying to ignore it, but Peter threw it a small paper ball at you to get your attention. You looked over at him, annoyed by his overall behavior in the last 10 minutes. Both of you had finals knocking at your doors and he was doing everything in his power to distract you. He pointed at the ceiling as soon as your eyes met, making you look in the direction. And there it was, the rose Tony was talking about earlier, a single red rose, webbed onto the ceiling. You wanted to burst out laughing but held yourself back, looking at Peter again. He was writing something, passing it to you a few seconds later.

“Will you be my prom date?” it read, looking at him and shaking your head no. You had already told him a million times you were not going to do it. He pouted, putting his hands together and locking his fingers into a prayer, begging you to say yes. You shook your head again, giving him back the note. 

“What the hell are you two doing?” Tony asked, making the two of you jump in your seats. 

He had been looking at the two of you for the past 5 minutes, he saw the rose as well, saw Peter begging you and you declining. He was standing by the table. This whole time you felt like you were in detention with Peter, and now that Tony caught you, the feeling got deeper. Neither of you said anything, staring at Tony in shock. And since you wouldn’t speak, Tony took the paper and laughed. 

“I don’t think her boyfriend is gonna like that.”

“Her boyfriend?” Peter asked, looking at you.

“Yeah, she has a boyfriend.”

“I don’t think he’ll mind.” Peter continued. 

“I definitely think he will.” 

“No he won’t, he’ll be quite happy actually.”

“What is making you think that?”

“Because it’s me, I’m her boyfriend.”

You didn’t say a word the entire conversation. A few weird looks were shared between the three of you in complete silence. You felt like you wanted to die. Peter turned to stare at you, waiting for you to confirm it. Tony was staring at you too, unsure if this was real or another attempt of Peter’s to flirt with you. Then he laughed, Tony started laughing loudly and sincerely. He was laughing so hard you could see a tear running down his cheek. Peter whined, throwing his head back in frustration from his reaction. 

“It’s true! Tell him!”

You gulped, looking at the still-laughing Tony. 

“It is.” you almost whispered, hoping he wouldn’t hear you. 

“Wait.” Tony stopped, looking at the two of you with furrowed brows. “Really?”

“Yeah.” you said, nodding softly. 

—

The lights flashed softly as you walked in, blinding you for a second. You tried to walk in a straight line but the lights did not help you at all. You grabbed Peter’s arm for support, scared you would miss a threshold that had suddenly appeared out of nowhere and trip. Peter looked over at you in concern, thinking something had suddenly made you anxious. You looked at him as well, blinking rapidly, trying to adjust to the light changing all of a sudden. Your hand was holding his biceps, squeezing it softly. He placed his other hand on yours, patting softly. He stared at you until you nodded that you were okay now and you could continue walking. Of all the cringe things you were expecting to see tonight, a disco ball was definitely not on the list. 

“Penis Parker with an actual date to prom? This will go down in history as the biggest plot twist!” You heard a somewhat familiar voice from behind you, turning around only to be faced with Flash. 

“Oh, it’s that annoying guy.” You said, looking at Peter, who nodded in agreement. 

“Wait, I know you, you were at my party once.”

“Unfortunately, yes, I was.”

“Why are you with that loser, ditch him, you should be my date instead.” Flash said, reaching a level of annoyance you didn’t even know existed.

“Sorry, I don’t do charity work on evenings but you can try the homeless kitchen in Queens on Saturdays and Tuesdays, I’m usually there to help on those days.” you told him as Peter wrapped his arm around your waist. “Plus we’re kind of already matching.” you pointed at Peter. “Your costume wannabe will clash with my dress and that’s a big no from me.”

Peter was trying his best not to laugh as you were absolutely destroying Flash verbally. It brought back memories from when you used to do the same with his attempts to flirt.

“Jesus Christ, I don’t want to know what kind of sado-maso sex you two freaks are having.”

“Did you just call me a sadist? I didn’t know you could read people so well, Flash!” you asked, looking at Peter for back up.

“Okay, that’s enough.” Peter said, pulling you closer to him and walking the two of you away. “That was brutal, can’t let you ruin his ego on his prom night!”

“Someone had to do it!” you whined, your hands crossing in front of your chest.

“We’re here to have a good time! Come on! Let’s dance and not think about Flash.”

“Remind me, how exactly did you convince me to come to this? I hated my own prom and I’m definitely hating yours too.”

“You want me to remind you?”

You nodded, his hands resting on each side of your hips as he looked at you. His forehead pressed against yours, placing a soft kiss on your cheek. 

“Are you sure you want me to remind you here?” he whispered in your ear.

You nodded again, looking at him. Your arms still crossed on your chest. 

“In front of all these people?” He asked with a fake shocked expression on his face, pulling your body closer. You rolled your eyes at him, his arms wrapping around you, chests pressed together. 

Your heartbeat accelerated as you looked at him, faces inches away from each other. His hot breath glided across the skin on your face, making your eyes fall shut as his lips gently touched yours. His fingers dug into the soft skin on your back. You rested your hands on his chest as he kissed you, consciously trying not to ruin his suit by grabbing anything you shouldn’t. He wasn’t that careful tho, his other hands scrunching the fabric that was so perfectly wrapped around your waistline, in desperate attempts to feel your body closer to his.

“Did I remind you?” he asked, breath heavy as he broke the kiss seconds before.

“You basically just admit to seducing me into this.” you told him, your head resting on his shoulder as he rocked the two of you gently to the rhythm of the blues that was playing in the background. 

“You can never just fall on your back, can you?”

“Never!” 

The two of you laughed, him kissing your forehead as you continued swaying, wrapped in each other's embrace.

---

taglist (If you want to be added or removed, please DM me!)

@asthmaticcchoeee @ivyquill

[supernovafics]

𝐌𝐈𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐑𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐋

pairing: hoco!peter parker x fem!reader

word count: 4k words

summary: in which peter can see that you’ve changed so much in the past three months and he desperately wants the old you back. however, being honest is hard because he doesn’t want to lose you completely.

warnings: homecoming era, explicit language, a shit ton of angst, some fluff

author’s note: hope y’all enjoy this one! i’m pretty happy with how it turned out<33 (full folklore series masterlist here)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

“hush, when no one is around, my dear. you'll find me on my tallest tiptoes. spinning in my highest heels, love. shining just for you.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Peter’s POV

It was hard for Peter to see you essentially change yourself completely for a guy that he knew– or at least wholeheartedly believed– didn’t deserve you.

However, he couldn’t allow himself to say anything to you about it. For the most part, you seemed happy, and right then, as he looked at you from across the cafeteria, you really did look happy.

You were sitting with the cheerleaders and basketball players since Levi was on the team, and his arm was draped around you as a laugh fell from your lips because of a joke someone must have said.

Somehow you must have felt Peter’s gaze on you because you turned your head a bit and met his eyes. You immediately smiled widely at him and waved.

Peter attempted to fight the way that you simply smiling at him made him feel, but he failed miserably, and he was glad that you were far enough away so you couldn’t see the redness that flooded his cheeks. He gave you a small smile and wave back, and then looked away to turn his attention back to Ned, who was talking about how his Spanish test went and how he was slightly worried about his grade.

“Mrs. Martinez isn’t a super strict grader. I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Peter told him.

Ned nodded at that and then turned his head, taking notice of where you were sitting in the cafeteria as well. “We’ve completely lost her.”

“She’s still our friend.”

“Yes, in a sense, but she’s more so one of them now.”

Although he was reluctant to do so, Peter looked over at where you were once again. You did look as if you fit in perfectly with that crowd, but Peter knew you better than anyone, and deep down, he felt as if none of this was truly who you were. A part of him felt like he was being biased because of the way he felt toward you and how much he missed you as one of his best friends. However, the other part of him simply knew that it was the truth.

You were different. You changed.

No longer were you just the girl that lived in the apartment above him who he used to sit out on the fire escape with and talk about nothing but also everything. You also were no longer the girl that he could ramble to about being the “friendly neighborhood spider-man.” In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten the chance to tell you anything new about what was going on with him and the creepy vulture guy that was illegally making weapons.

Maybe Ned was actually right. You were solely one of them now, one of the popular kids.

And Peter wasn’t sure how to accept that or if he would ever be able to. He desperately wanted the old you back; what he knew was the real you.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

“i want you to know i'm a mirrorball. i can change everything about me to fit in.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

It was a knock on his window that forced Peter’s attention away from his Chemistry textbook and onto you. You were waving and smiling at him through the glass, a baggy t-shirt and sweatpants adorning your body, which made sense to him since it was nearing midnight.

“Hey,” He said when he opened the window, trying to hide the shock in his voice that was due to the fact that you were there right then. Although you lived in the apartment above him, it had been a while since you knocked on his window.

“Hi,” You responded as you stepped inside Peter’s room and slipped off your shoes before making yourself comfortable on his bed.

“What’s up?”

“Nothing. It’s just… It’s been a while since we’ve really talked, y’know?” You said, and it was a statement that Peter wholeheartedly agreed with. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” He told you before taking a seat next to you on the bed. A part of him felt like you might have meant it in a different way than he did, but he didn’t want to think about that too hard. Instead, he solely wanted to focus on the fact that he was with you right then. Because that meant that you hadn’t forgotten about him, even though it felt like the two of you were now living completely different lives.

You leaned back against the wall and then looked at him. “Tell me everything that’s been happening with you. You’re freaking Spider-man. I’m sure I’ve missed a shit ton of stories.”

He smiled at you before beginning to catch you up on everything that had been happening in the past few weeks; the vulture guy, the alien weapons, everything.

In your eyes, he could see that old but familiar glimmer of genuine interest that he felt like he hadn’t seen in forever. Maybe things were finally going back to the way that they were.

“How have things been with you?” Peter asked. He didn’t necessarily want to hear you talk about how happy you were with Levi, but he could hope that maybe things between you and him were finally over and that you would tell him that instead. And then he immediately felt bad for hoping that you were heartbroken.

A certain look that Peter couldn’t decipher passed your face for a brief moment before you spoke. “Actually, I have something to tell you.”

“Yeah?”

You were quiet for a few moments, and Peter was confused but also slightly worried about what you were about to say.

“Ugh, it feels so weird saying this,” You told him before pulling your eyes away from his. “I’m gonna be a cheerleader.”

After the initial millisecond of shock wore off, Peter’s response was immediate. “But, you hate cheerleading. You hate doing any type of sport.”

“Levi thought it would be a good idea because then I could join him at the away games for basketball. And a spot just opened up, so I’m gonna do it,” You explained with a simple shrug.

It was at that moment that Peter wanted to go back to the night over three months ago when you told him about the crush you had on Levi, and he wished that he could’ve stopped it all right then. He wished that he could have told you something, anything, to make you not like the guy.

But he didn’t. And he also knew that if he had tried, he probably wouldn’t have been able to stop it because of how smitten you already were with Levi. Therefore, Peter just learned to accept it.

So ultimately, he did the same thing in this moment too.

“Okay,” He said and looked away from you.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion at his one-word response. “What? What’s wrong?”

That was a pretty loaded question because Peter felt like there were many things wrong with everything that had happened in the past three months, but he didn’t want to talk about that right then. Not when this was the first long conversation that the two of you had in weeks, and he didn’t want it to be ruined by finally being completely honest with you.

Although he didn’t want to say anything, he knew that he had to say something in response to your question, though. “It’s just… I don’t know.”

“What does that mean?” You asked, and you didn’t seem mad at him, just genuinely confused and maybe even a little concerned.

“You’ve changed.” Before he could think too much about it, Peter let the two words softly fall from his lips.

You almost immediately started laughing because you thought the words were a joke, but when he didn’t eventually laugh along with you, your laughter stopped, and Peter could see the offended look on your face. “What? No, I haven’t.”

“Then, how do you explain the last three months?”

You sighed. “I’m in a relationship now, Peter.”

“But it’s not just that you are in a relationship with Levi. You’re different now, too,” Peter said. He already felt like he was in deep with the conversation that was happening, so he decided to plunge even deeper into honesty. “And I know people change and grow in high school; I get that. But you completely changed yourself for him. To be the perfect dream girl that he wants. And I really miss how you used to be.”

“That’s bullshit.”

Peter shook his head. “It’s not, though. I see it, and Ned does too. And if you really thought about it, you would too. You quit Academic Decathlon, although you loved it. Stopped playing video games with Ned and I even though you would demolish us at pretty much everything. And I can’t even remember the last time you rambled to me about a book you were reading. Did you stop that too?”

You disregarded his question. “Did it ever occur to you that maybe I just don’t like doing that stuff anymore?”

That thought actually had occurred to Peter, but it never fully made sense to him. Most of what he just mentioned made up the entirety of your personality and who he’d grown to know since the two of you met in middle school, so he never thought those things would change.

Before Peter could say anything in response to you, you got up from his bed and started making your way toward the window. You didn’t immediately open it and leave, though.

You turned your head and met his gaze again. “We might not hang out that much anymore, but I still saw you as my best friend.”

The fact that you said the statement in past tense hit Peter hard, and he wanted to say something to make all of this go away. He would quite literally do anything to rewind the past ten minutes.

But he couldn’t. And the hurt look on your face was something that he’d never forget.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

“you are not like the regulars. the masquerade revelers. drunk as they watch my shattered edges glisten.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Y/N’s POV

Last year had been so different.

Back then, you could count on one hand how many days you’d gone without talking to Peter. The max was three, and it was only because you’d been grounded for an entire weekend because you broke curfew and went to see a midnight showing of the latest Star Wars film with him and Ned on a Wednesday.

Now it had been two weeks since the conversation you had in his room that eventful night and the two of you hadn’t spoken one word to each other since.

You wondered if it was more of his doing or if it was yours. And you eventually settled on the answer that both of you had equal parts in the prevailing silence.

Although you hadn’t talked to Peter in fourteen days, the conversation that took place that night lingered strongly in the back of your mind.

Personally, you hadn’t thought you had changed in the past three months.

You were in a relationship for the first time in your life; you didn’t count your two-week relationship with Brian Feldman in fourth grade. And you knew that your friendships would change a bit because you wouldn’t be able to hang out with Peter and Ned at any given moment anymore. But you didn’t for one second think that you had changed yourself for Levi.

When you started only hanging out with him and his friends on Friday nights and mainly doing things he liked, you didn’t think much about it. Instead, you found yourself slowly growing to like those things too; at least, that was what you’d convinced yourself.

And when Levi passively mentioned that movies were always better than books, you found yourself agreeing and always watching any movie he suggested to you. And you never thought too deeply of it. Until now.

Until Peter called you out.

You didn’t know whether to hate that Peter had been right or happy that he finally woke you up from the lovesick haze you’d found yourself in for the past three months. The feelings conflicted with one another, but the one thing they had in common was that they both made you want to cry.

A soft sigh fell from your lips as you lay down in your bed, alone on a Saturday night for the first time in what felt like forever because Levi was out of town with his family for the weekend. But you were grateful because, with this newfound realization, you were unsure of what you wanted anymore.

As you blinked back the tears, you grabbed your phone and began typing out a message to Peter.

You: You were right

DELETE

You: I’m sorry

DELETE

You: I’m an idiot and a horrible friend

DELETE

Nothing felt right to say in that moment.

You thought about going down to Peter’s apartment and telling him that he was right about everything and maybe even allowing yourself to let out all of the tears that were bottled up because he had seen you cry many times before. However, something about that didn’t feel right to you. You weren’t ready to be honest with him, and maybe that was because you weren’t ready to be completely honest with yourself.

A part of you simply wanted to forget any of this was happening.

You wanted to forget that you had been unknowingly lying to everyone, especially yourself, for the past three months. Your life had become so deeply intertwined with Levi’s that you couldn’t just accept the truth for what it was and let everything go back to how it used to be. Although your heart slightly ached for your old life, your mind told you that it would be too hard to let everything new go.

It may have been fake, but there was some truth in the fact that you liked who you had become. You had a boyfriend that was genuinely nice, more people than just Peter and Ned liked you, and more often than not, you felt happy.

Because of that, you wanted to, more so needed to, pretend that everything was fine. So, you decided to do exactly that.

You looked down at your phone again and swiped out of your messages with Peter, and then clicked on Levi’s contact name.

You: Hope you’re having a good time with your family. Can’t wait to see you when you come back tomorrow night <3

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

“all i do is try, try, try. i'm still on that trapeze. i'm still trying everything to keep you looking at me.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

For some reason, you had liked the dress you chose for homecoming more when you tried it on in the store than right then as you were inside the school’s gymnasium, sitting next to Levi at a table that was unsurprisingly full of basketball players and cheerleaders.

“I can’t remember if I said it already or not, but you look really great tonight, baby,” Levi told you as he pressed a kiss to your cheek and gave your hand a light squeeze.

“Thanks.” You smiled at his words, already feeling a thousand times better in the red dress, and then deep down, you immediately hated yourself for needing his approval to feel good about yourself. That quick chain of events had been happening a lot since your conversation with Peter, and especially since the night when a tiny part of you wanted to accept the truth, but you couldn’t because you felt like living a lie was easier to do.

Turned out it was not.

And with each day that passed, you got closer to breaking your silence with Peter and allowing yourself to run back to what your life used to be. But still, for some dumb reason that you couldn’t even fully explain to yourself, you refrained from doing so.

Another few days went by since you almost texted Peter, and neither of you had said anything to one another. You blamed it on the fact that the two of you managed to not once cross paths in the past weeks, even though that was a shitty excuse because if either of you really wanted to talk to each other, you would’ve.

However, you knew that you would definitely see him tonight at the homecoming dance. You heard from a few of your old Academic Decathlon friends that he was coming with Liz Allen. You actually felt happy for him because last you knew, he really liked her.

As if on cue, you saw both Peter and Liz walk into the gymnasium. Your heart sped up at seeing Peter for the first time in almost a month, and before he could spot you as well, you stood up.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom real quick,” You told Levi and didn’t wait for him to say anything before you started walking off.

When you entered the bathroom, you were surprised but grateful to see it empty. You stood at the sink and sighed when you looked in the mirror. You really did hate the dress you were wearing, and the fact that you were simply wearing it because you knew that Levi would like it made you feel disappointed in yourself too. You were unsure how you would survive the rest of the night.

When you exited the bathroom and turned the quick corner, you almost immediately collided with someone and the impact from it was so abrupt and forceful that you actually stumbled backward and fell on your butt.

“Jesus Christ,” You said right before you hit the floor.

“Crap! I’m sorry,” The person said as they held out a hand to help you up. It was slightly dark in the hallway, but you could clearly see that the person was Peter, and it was even easier to recognize his voice.

“It’s okay,” You told him as you grabbed his hand and let him pull you up. You wondered why he’d been in such a rush just then but didn’t ask. “Also, um, hi.”

“Hey,” He responded and gave you a small smile. It was quiet for a few moments before he spoke again. “Listen, I’m really sorry about what I said that night.”

“Don’t be sorry,” You were quick to tell him, not allowing yourself to think too far ahead about what you were saying. “You were right.”

Peter furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, and you could tell he was surprised that you were saying this. “I was?”

“Yes, and I should’ve told you that weeks ago, but I was being dumb, and I was scared.” It felt good to be completely honest for the first time in a long time, and you knew that if you were going to finally be honest to anyone, it was going to be Peter. Not just because he was the one that called you out on everything but also because he was probably the one person you trusted most in the world. “I miss how things used to be.”

Peter nodded at that. “Me too.”

“I’m sorry,” You said, trying to mask the sadness in your voice but failing miserably. “For everything.”

He pulled you in for a hug instead of responding to your apology, and you immediately wrapped your arms around him and pressed your face into his chest. Your eyes were squeezed shut so that no tears would come out because it felt a little too movie-like and cliche to cry at a school dance.

“Don’t be sorry. It’s okay. Everything’s okay,” Peter told you as he rubbed your back soothingly in small circles, and you were sincerely grateful for the simple action.

It was quiet for a few moments, and you admired the comfortable silence as well as the feeling of Peter’s arms around you.

You didn’t know how long this could last. You knew that you would have to eventually go back to Levi and pretend that everything was fine, at least for the night, because it would be shitty to ditch someone at a dance, especially since that someone was your boyfriend. But, also, you knew that deep down, you would leave in a heartbeat and go anywhere Peter wanted to if he asked you to.

You didn’t want the silence to be broken anytime soon, but after a little over a minute, Peter did. “I really wish I could stay right now, but I have to go.” His words came out quietly, and you were quickly confused by them, but then you remembered the fact that, only moments ago, he’d been in a rush was what led you both to this current moment in the first place.

“What’s wrong?” You asked when you pulled out of the embrace.

Peter looked at you, and you could tell that he was pondering how to explain everything to you. “It’s kind of a long story because a lot has actually happened these past couple of weeks, but basically, Liz’s dad is the vulture guy, and he’s planning to rob Mr. Stark tonight since they’re moving everything upstate. So, I need to stop him before that happens.”

“Oh, wow. Okay, yeah, that’s a lot,” You responded and wanted to immediately ask more questions, but knew that right then it would be best if you didn’t. “Yeah, you should go.”

He nodded at that, but before he left, you couldn’t help but pull him into another hug. Everything that had come out in the past few minutes felt way too emotional, but you were glad that you had been pushed into that moment with Peter. You were grateful to have him in your life, and you were also grateful that the past few weeks, and even the past few months, hadn’t irreversibly change anything between you two.

“I love you, Peter.” Your soft words were muffled by his neck, but he still heard you.

“You can’t say stuff like that,” He said, voice matching your same soft tone.

“Why not?”

“Because,” He paused for a moment, and you thought he might backtrack in his statement, but he didn’t. He pulled back from the hug and looked at you; you were quick to notice the slightly sad look on his face. “Because you don’t mean it in the same way I do.”

“What?” Your one-worded question came out so quietly that it barely felt audible.

Peter heard you, of course, and he looked sincerely nervous as he thought about what to say next. You were going to tell him that it was okay, that he didn’t have to say anything else because you understood him almost too clearly, but the other part of you wanted to hear exactly what he wanted to say.

“I love you. I’m in love with you, Y/N,” He told you, and suddenly, it became “that night” all over again; long hidden honesties finally coming out. “And I didn’t want to admit that in our school hallway or in a rushed way like this, but that doesn’t change how true those words are.”

His revelation was a lot to process at that moment, and after a few quick moments of thinking, the only thing your brain could think to respond to Peter’s confession with was, “You’re here with Liz.”

“And you’re here with Levi.”

You couldn’t help but inwardly laugh at the situations the two of you were in. It was hard to let yourself fully accept Peter’s confession, even though you could hear how truthful it was, because if you accepted it, you would have to look inward and see what you wanted. But Levi was still your boyfriend, and it felt wrong to do that. However, the initial thought you had about loving Peter in more than just a friendly way genuinely felt okay and good, and a part of you wanted him to know that.

“I really should go.”

Peter’s words pulled you out of your thoughts, and you remembered everything that he’d just told you about Liz’s dad. “Yes, yes, go. Tell me about everything tomorrow on the fire escape. I’ll bring pizza.”

He smiled at that. “I can’t wait.”

He quickly hugged you one final time before you watched him rush off and turn a corner. A large part of you silently wished that you could go with him to get far away from the dance and Levi and the friends you made who no longer felt real, but of course, you couldn’t. It was nice to daydream though, and pretend that everything was different, but in a good way; in a way that it hadn’t been in a long while.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

“i’ll get you out on the floor. shimmering beautiful. and when i break it’s in a million pieces.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

let me know ur thoughts<333

[amethystandemma]

Redraw/recolor of an X-Men ‘97 screenshot with my OC Sunny Castle

[bananabread-nana]

Part 1

Spiderman!EthanLandry x Enchantress!OC

Slow burn, Violence, suggestive(eventually?)

past/flashbacks

A/N: I haven’t written anything in FOREVER so please bare with me. Ignore any punctuation or grammar mistakes 😭 comment if you want to be on the taglist and reblogs are greatly appreciated. I hope you enjoy 🤸🏻‍♀️

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An ear-piercing scream ripped through the poor woman’s throat, adding to the burn that only got worse with every breath she took. She couldn’t run much longer the only thing keeping her going was the sound of the man’s heavy footsteps behind her. Taunting her. Getting closer to her. Closing her eyes bracing for impact..

THUD

The confused woman opened her eyes just to catch a glimpse of the alluring emerald haze that disappeared just as fast as it appeared revealing the man that had spent the last two hours tormenting her, robbing her of her belongings and dignity, lying in a pool of his own blood.

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Loud police sirens roared through the streets of New York interrupting his thoughts bringing him back to reality. Quickly packing his things Ethan bolted out of Sam and Tara’s shared dorm which sparked some confusion and concern within the group for a split second before it faded away due to persistence of this exact situation. As far as they know they just think his control-freak of a dad, Sheriff Bailey is blabbing at him to get home.

In reality, he got straight to work putting on his vibrant red and blue onesie he calls his suit as soon as he turned the corner.

TWIP TWIP

Swinging from building to building with the flick of his wrist all while desperately searching for the crime scene. His attention was quickly drawn by an ear-piercing scream that sent a chill down his spine. Now heading towards the general direction of the call for help, he began articulating his plan. It was just another night as the friendly neighborhood Spiderman, web up a greedy criminal, occasionally giving them a taste of his enhanced strength, and leave. There was something about this particular moment that gave him an unsettling feeling in his stomach.

Nervous?

Scared?

No, never?

I’m Spiderman, THEY’RE scared of ME not the other way around

The boy tried so desperately to ease his nerves, he had never felt nervous let alone afraid of putting himself in danger but there’s a first for everything.. right?

The scene was quiet, too quiet.. he swore this was where the woman had screamed from, his enhanced hearing never failed him. Right?

Spiderman?

His head nearly snapped by the way his head whipped towards the direction of the voice. He couldn’t believe what he saw, a man laying face down drowning in a pool of his own blood and a woman in the corner with a mix of multiple emotions plastered on her pale face. Before the spider-boy could ask any questions, the woman stared blurting out what had happened prior to his arrival. She spoke too fast and her shaky voice made it hard to decipher her words but one thing stuck out..

..THEN I saw a flash of green and before I knew it the guy was dead! That person or thing or whatever it was SAVED ME! Do you know who it is? Or what?…

She continued to spew unanswerable questions but he wasn’t listening because he was deep in thought..

Who? What? How?

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Taglist: @tuktuk34 @netey6m

Comment if you want to be added

[bittenbyyou]

Inferior Flames (1)

MCU!AU | MCU!Peter Parker x Stark!Reader | MCU!Spider-Man x Stark!Reader

genre: enemies to lovers, angst, slow burn, lil cute moments

description: Your father wants you to knock Peter down a peg. OR Peter is bitter because you’re an Avenger and he’s not.

word count: 3.6k

warnings: Tony Stark being your father is already a warning as to how ridiculous he could be lol, mentions of Spider-Man: Homecoming, references from Captain America: Civil War, idk where this would fit in the MCU timeline per se b/c I’ve only recently started watching all the Marvel movies. 

a/n: maybe it’ll be a series? idk, if you like it, lemme know!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

“Firefly, I need a favor.” Your father plopped onto the couch next to you, so you paused your show with the TV remote.

“What is it?” you asked, turning your body to give him your undivided attention.

“You know Spiderling, Spider-Boy?”

“Peter Parker, Spider-Man? Yes. How do you still not know his name?”

“My names are better.”

“Uh huh. Wait, he’s the one that rejected your proposal to become an Avenger.” You nudged him with your elbow, flashing a smirk.

“No, no. I don’t do rejection.”

“But he did turn you down.”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose to alleviate his frustration. “Sure. Whatever. Anyway, the kid wants to be an Avenger now. Been texting Happy nonstop about when’s the next mission and he’s wanting to see me tomorrow.”

You blinked twice and stayed quiet, a blank stare on your face as to why this was an issue. When he didn’t say anything, you gestured for him to elaborate.

“I don’t think he’s ready,” he added, crossing one arm over the other.

“You’re serious? Dad, you’ve never shut up about him ever since you gave him the suit. Even when I was abroad, I’ve seen what he can do. He’s amazing. You wanted him to be an Avenger.”

“I’m aware. But he said no and now… the ball is in my court.” The shit-eating grin on his face was soon replaced with a chuckle that sounded almost sinister.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, he turned me down and now he wants me back. God, I’m making him sound like an ex-girlfriend.” He shivered in disgust and you rolled your eyes. “Anyway, I get to turn him down now. It’s great.”

“So you’re turning him down because he turned you down first. Petty much?”

“Hey, that is not what’s going on here.” He turned his attention to the paused TV screen instead of meeting your judgmental gaze.

“Dad, that’s exactly what you’re doing. You’re really letting your pride stop you from recruiting someone as amazing as Spider-Man? Let Peter join.”

“What, are you in love with him or something? You think he’s so amazing?” he asked while doing jazz hands at the word “amazing.”

You wouldn’t call it love; it was more along the lines of admiration. During your time abroad, your father filled you in on all his adventures and antics so if anything, it was his fault as to why you were somewhat enamored with Spider-Man. Deep down, you knew your father adored Peter, so it was only natural you did too.

“As a matter of fact, I do.”

“You can’t date anyone until you’re 21.”

“I’m telling Mom you’re being ridiculous.”

“I already told your mom and we’ve already established that I’m ridiculous,” he said proudly, as if it was a badge of honor.

“You told me you were proud of his decision to lay low.”

“I am. I was. But now the tables have turned and what kind of person would I be if I let him in so easily? The others think I’m crazy recruiting a 15 year old.”

“16 now actually,” you corrected.

“God, this is like deja-vu.”

You giggled. “I’m the same age as him and you’ve been wanting me to join too.”

“Don’t remind me. You were the first person to ever turn me down and I’m still recovering. I’m waiting for you to crawl back and beg me, saying ‘Dad, please! Let me be an Avenger!’ Like the kid is doing now,” he said, using a high-pitched voice when he was imitating you.

“Good luck with that. I have no interest in being an Avenger.”

“See,” he said, pointing his index finger at you, “that right there is why I need your help.”

You crossed your arms in the same way he did, skeptical of where he was going with this. “Go on.”

“I want you to pretend to be another recruit who wants to be an Avenger. I’ll tell him there’s only one position and make him work for it.”

“Dad…” you said sternly.

“What? He doesn’t know you’re my daughter. And I’m trying to protect him too. The kid’s been going off doing things on his own and not thinking clearly. He can wait on becoming an Avenger.”

“He stopped Vulture. He kept looking for those weapons when no one else would.”

“He’s reckless.”

“You’re using me to make him jealous.”

“A little,” he said with a shrug. “But I’m also looking out for him.”

“Uh huh.”

“He’s coming here tomorrow and I want you to battle him. If he beats you, he’ll get to join.”

“This is so stupid.”

“It’s genius, really.”

“You’re making a kid fight for something that you already want to give him.”

“No. Not yet.”

“You know he can’t beat me.”

Your father leaned in and pecked you on the forehead. “Exactly. Him losing will help him work harder to be better. This’ll give him that push he really needs. So will you help me?”

“Let me get this straight. You want me to fight Peter Parker and make sure he loses just so he doesn’t get to become an Avenger even though deep down, you want him to be one?”

“Precisely.”

“That’s the stupidest idea ever. And it’ll hurt his feelings.”

“No, it’ll build character. He needs to understand it’s not that simple. You can’t ask to become an Avenger and get it.”

“... But he can… because that’s what you wanted in the first place.”

“He turned me down so it’s only fair that he proves to me how much he wants it. Like a test. I’m testing him.”

“No. Dad, I’m not doing that.”

“I’ll enroll you in school right now instead of waiting for the following year.”

You sighed, contemplating his ridiculous proposition. He had adopted you when you were 10 on one of his missions overseas and has kept you a secret from the public. As much as it pained him, he could not bring you home right away because you required guidance on using your powers responsibly. You had to remain abroad for a while longer until the adoption forms went through and your mentors felt you were ready to leave the tiny village where you resided.

However, he and his wife Pepper, kept in touch and always checked in. He showed up every birthday and made it his mission to be a part of your life. Now that you were in high school and your powers were restored, he flew you into New York City right away.

It’s been a few months since your transition and you absolutely loved it. The Avengers who resided in the compound were very welcoming and so far, they were the only ones who knew of your existence along with your mom. Your father had yet to announce your identity to the world because he didn’t want the spotlight to overwhelm you. Originally he planned on having you relax a bit and then enroll you in public school next year, but going earlier was enticing to you.

“... Which school?”

“Spider-Man’s.”

“... Fine.”

“You do have a crush on him.”

“Shut up, Dad.”

The next day…

Upon entering the foyer of the Avengers Compound, Happy led Peter to where Stark was. The man stood in the middle of the main entrance hall, sporting a classy suit and sunglasses. Peter clenched his fists in determination, carefully reciting the words he wanted to say in his head since the car ride over.

“Hey kid. What do you want?”

“Mr. Stark,” he squeaked. He shut his eyes in humiliation, clearing his throat and lowering his voice a bit to sound more confident. Once his eyes fluttered open, he puffed out his chest and said, “I changed my mind.”

“You changed your mind,” Stark deadpanned.

“Yes. I want to be an Avenger.”

“You understand why I’m skeptical.”

“Um… yes, but—”

“Look, you turned me down last time and am I used to rejection?” Peter opened his mouth to answer but was immediately cut off. “The answer’s no, but I respected your decision. All that talk about looking out of the little guy—great—so what changed?”

“I’m ready for more than that now.”

“No, you’re not.”

“That’s not what you thought when I took on Captain America,” Peter argued.

“Trust me, kid. If Cap wanted to lay you out, he would’ve.”

Peter furrowed his eyebrows at the realization that he got off easy, questioning his entire existence.

Stark pressed his palms together and pointed at him. “You really want to be an Avenger?”

The boy nodded eagerly. “Yes.”

He inhaled sharply through gritted teeth. “See, here’s the thing: there’s someone else.”

Peter’s face fell, heartbroken at the thought of being replaced. “What—What do you mean there’s someone else?”

“Well, after you turned me down, I recruited someone else. If you really want to be an Avenger, prove to me you’re better than her.”

“Wait, her?”

“Yeah. You think you got what it takes?”

“Well it’s rude to attack a lady—”

“No. Gender equality’s a thing, right? You beat her up, she beats you up. You both end up in casts—”

“Casts?!”

“Suit up and let’s go.”

With no other choice, Peter obeyed and did what he was told. His thoughts were racing at the thought of battling someone to prove his worth. But this was his dream and he had to get out of his own head. After he finished suiting up, Happy led Tony and him to the outdoor training area that featured a wide-opened space with reinforced surfaces.

It had strategically placed obstacles to encourage agility and tactical thinking during battles. Additionally, the area incorporated holographic projectors to create any virtual landscapes to simulate specific scenarios for the Avengers to train in.

And that was where Peter’s eyes landed on a figure in the distance. You, who was practicing your combat skills with a large kung fu spear. The way you moved was calculated, graceful, like a beautiful yet deadly dance. You performed many high kicks and flips, mesmerizing Peter as your hands maneuvered the spear so flawlessly around your body. Your father and Happy watched you, proud smiles plastered on both of their faces.

“That’s who you’ll be battling today,” Stark said, clapping his hands together once to catch your attention. You stopped what you were doing and landed in a perfect split with the spear parallel to your body, noticing your father and Happy’s presence. You got up and rushed over, your eyes quickly finding its way to the boy in the iconic red and blue costume.

“Hi D-... Mr. Stark. Happy.” You turned to Peter, loving the fact that he didn’t have his mask on yet so you could finally meet him as him. He was far cuter in person, you weren’t going to deny that. “I’m [Y/N].”

Your dad wanted this “test” to be authentic, so you couldn't tell Peter you were, in fact, a Stark. Plus you didn’t look like a Stark anyway, with you being adopted and all. It’d be a cinch.

“P-Parker, Peter. Parker Peter—I mean, Peter Parker,” Peter said softly, shaking your hand. God, you were so pretty that it made him a fumbling mess. He wondered if you two were the same age.

“Great. Now that both you kiddos are here, you both know what you have to do, right?”

You and Peter looked at each other and exchanged awkward smiles. “Mr. Stark, I’m not comfortable battling a… um…”

“Girl?” you finished. “I’d be more worried about yourself, darling.”

The way the word “darling” rolled off your tongue caused Peter’s face to redden like a cherry.

“I’m not saying girls can’t battle, I’m just saying I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Are you going to hold back if the enemy is a woman?”

Peter opened his mouth to say something but to no avail.

“You said you wanted to be an Avenger. There’s only one position available, so we’re going to be testing you both. Happy will launch the simulation sequence and then you two will be fighting one-on-one,” your father explained.

“Good luck,” Happy said, trying hard not to laugh. The two men walked a safe distance away where they could observe you both.

“What’s the simulation sequence?” Peter called out before putting on his mask.

“We’re going to be launching drones at you,” Stark called back from afar with cupped hands.

“Drones?!”

“Yeah, we want to see how much you’ve improved!”

“In 3, 2, 1!” Happy shouted as he pushed some buttons on his phone.

You and Peter both stared up at the sky as a swarm of drones lined up in a similar fashion as the game Space Invaders.

“May the best Avenger win,” you said, sending him a wink. He laughed nervously as you immediately launched yourself in the sky. Peter gasped in awe.

“She can fly?!”

Hovering in front of the drones, you closed your eyes and pressed your index and middle fingers together, forming a "V" shape. Bringing the fingers perpendicular to your forehead, it felt as if you were beckoning an unseen force. With unwavering focus, you opened your eyes, and the spear you held multiplied tenfold, floating effortlessly beside you. Extending your arm forward, you pointed confidently at the drones, issuing a resolute command for the spears to launch their attack. Explosions scattered throughout the sky as you managed to wipe out half the drones with one attack.

“And she can multiply things. Great,” Peter huffed, launching a web at one of the drones to join you.

“She’s going to destroy him,” your father said, chuckling to himself.

“Kid, come back. Don’t be such a sore loser.”

Peter shook his head while removing his mask, muttering self-deprecating thoughts to himself at his performance. You watched as he walked away, rubbing the back of your neck.

“Did I go overboard?” you asked, a tinge of guilt eating away at your conscience. Your father chuckled and waved off your concern with a flick of the wrist.

“No, you did great. He’ll be fine.” He went after Peter and placed a hand on his shoulder to prevent him from going any further. “Hey. You put up a good fight.”

Peter spun around, exasperated and using his hands to express his frustration. “I lost. There was no way I was going to win. She can fly, she can multiply things, she can use telekinesis, she can breathe fire—is she part dragon? How was I supposed to compete with that?!”

You saw him pointing at you from afar, giving him a small smile but was only reciprocated with a frown.

Tony put on a contemplating face. “Is she part dragon…?” he mumbled. “Anyway, I told you that I had to find someone else after you said no. And she’s earned her place. I’m sorry you’re disappointed, but you lost fair and square.”

“But—”

“No buts. You aren’t ready. So lay low, be a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, and work your way up. Go to school, focus on classes, and finish that homework you’ve been putting off.”

“I don’t need to go to school.”

“Yes. You do. Even she goes to school,” Stark said, pointing over in your direction.

You went over to where Happy was, your eyes still glued on your father and Peter. “Happy, he looks so heartbroken.”

“I know. But it’s for the best. Kid’s too eager and knocking him down a peg might do him some good.”

“I feel bad.”

He patted your back and gave you a reassuring smile. “He will be okay. Your father appreciates your help.”

You immediately straightened your posture when you saw Peter come over with your father.

“Anything you want to say to [Y/N]?” your father asked, giving Peter a gentle nudge from behind.

“Congratulations,” Peter said, mustering up as much strength as he could to give you a smile. Because he really was happy for you, but it hurt for him. The smile didn’t reach his eyes and the pitiful gaze in yours wasn’t helping.

“Thanks. You did really well.”

“Yeah, but I have all the bruises,” he joked, pointing at his face in a circular motion. You took a step forward and placed your palm out in front of his face.

“May I?”

His eyes widened in confusion, but he nodded anyway. An ember glow emitted from your hand and all his bruises healed in a matter of seconds.

“You can heal people too? What on earth can’t you do?” Peter was both fascinated but also very annoyed at your perfection.

“I can only heal minor bruises,” you said quickly.

“Of course,” he muttered.

“Happy, take him home for me.”

“Got it. Come on, Peter.”

“Bye Peter,” you said, giving him a shy wave. He only gave you another meek smile before walking away. You glared at your father, who only let out a sigh of relief.

“Great job, kiddo.”

The next day at school Ned practically crashed into Peter, who was at his locker minding his own business.

“Dude, dude, dude!”

“Whoa, what is it, Ned?!” Peter said, a hand on his chest from the sudden heart attack that was his best friend.

“There’s a new girl and she’s so cute. Have you seen her yet?”

Peter closed his locker shut, wracking his brain for a moment when he saw an unfamiliar face today. “No, I haven’t. What’s her name?”

“Uh… I can’t remember. Was it [wrong name]? Or maybe [another wrong name]?”

Peter looked down the hall and somehow amongst a cluster of students, he spotted you walking towards him. Like a moth to a flame, his eyes somehow went straight to you and only you. Irritation overcame him as he remembered the battle from yesterday. How you beat him so effortlessly, so ridiculously cool and being all perfect. And now you’re at his school? What, were you mocking him?

“Ned,” Peter said, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Is that her?” He pointed at you and nodded his head in your direction.

Ned looked over in your direction and snapped his fingers. “Yeah! That’s her.”

“Dude, that’s the girl,” Peter muttered.

“Huh? What girl?”

He thought about how he sulked on the apartment balcony, venting to Ned about you. “The… girl… remember what I told you over the phone yesterday?”

It took a few seconds, but Ned’s brain finally clicked. “She’s the one that beat you? Her? Oh my god, you didn’t mention how cute she was!”

“Will you keep your voice down? She’s coming this way!” Peter opened his locker again and hid his face behind it. Ned shook his head in disapproval.

“Are you embarrassed? Come on. Challenge her again.”

“I can’t.”

“I’ll do it for you.”

“No, dude, stop. You aren’t supposed to know about her. Mr. Stark will kill me.”

“But she goes to our school.”

Peter hid his face in his locker until you finally passed. He let out a huge sigh of relief, feeling like he had dodged a bullet. That was, until Ned shouted out, “Hey! New girl!”

You stopped at the familiar label people were referring to you as. Once you turned around, you saw Ned’s huge smile while Peter still cowered in his locker. The boy you were walking with scoffed at Ned’s boldness.

“You don’t need to engage with them. They’re nobodies.”

“That’s not very nice, Flash,” you said, frowning at his poor choice of words.

“If we’re nobodies, why is she friends with Peter then, huh?” Ned exclaimed loudly. If a black hole could open up and swallow Peter whole, now would be the time.

“What, you know Penis Parker?” Flash asked you, incredulous at the new information. Peter carefully pulled his head out of his locker enough to take a tiny peek at you. He wondered what you were going to say.

“Yeah. I know Peter, Flaccid Flash,” you replied, bumping into his shoulder deliberately as you made your way over to Peter and Ned. The entire hallway filled with laughter at your stinging remark.

“Hi. I’m [Y/N]. I think we maybe got off on the wrong foot. How about we start over?”

Peter looked at your extended hand as if it was a foreign object, standing still as a statue. When his brain finally registered what you said, Ned had beat him to it, shaking your hand so fast like he was in the presence of royalty. “We would love to start over. I’m Ned. Peter’s best friend.”

You let out a laugh. “Hi Ned. It’s lovely to meet you.”

Without thinking, Peter grabbed your other hand. “Come with me.”

You didn’t have time to react and he led you to the nearest empty classroom, thankful class hadn’t started yet.

“What are you doing here?” he interrogated, letting go of your hand. You leaned against the wall, crossing one foot over the other.

“I go to school here now?”

“But why here?”

“Because… it’s a nice school?”

Peter placed a hand on his forehead, his jaw clenched as he thought of what to say next without sounding like an ass. “Look, you beat me and you’re an Avenger fair and square. I’m happy for you, really.” His words became soft and broken towards the end. “But seeing you reminds me that Mr. Stark will never be impressed with me. So can you give me space?”

His voice was frail but sincere. You got off the wall and gave him a nod. “Okay. I’ll leave you alone.”

“Thank you.”

Before Peter could leave, you asked him one last question. “Sorry, but could you tell me where gym class is? I have it first period.”

It took everything in Peter not to curse out loud. He had to fight back his bitterness and said through gritted teeth. “Yeah. I have it first period too.”

You smiled to yourself, trailing closely behind him as he led you both to your first class. Together.

Reblogs and thoughts are appreciated! Thank you!

Update: I might be in the middle of writing a part 2. :) Your support means a lot!

[goest-and-fuckest-thyself-blog]

Okay, I’m ready to run away now

[liz-allyn]

sugar and vice, pt 5 [mob!tasm!peter x fem!reader]

summary: what is the appropriate amount of time to forgive your kidnapper?

words: 3.9 k

warning: mob-typical violence. whump. hurt/comfort. allusions to violence. coersion. kidnapping. blood. toxic/yandere!peter (maybe, sorta), negative self talk, shameless forced proximity trope. 'only ten one bed oops' trope, imprisonment. slowest burn. a dash of questionable and/or morally grey intentions. nudity. extremely toxic relationships.

a/n - as many of you pointed out in the last chapter, this version of Peter is darker and messier than TASM canon. expect him to make a lot of mistakes before he becomes a changed man. if he changes.

18+. you're responsible for your own content consumption. but that being said, if you don't remember watching an episode of pop up [music] video on a television network, then keep it movin'.

Back to Part 4

Part 5

She awoke to darkness. Her whole body felt sore. Head throbbing from the onslaught of tears. She felt like a ceramic pot that had been roasting in a kiln for hours.

Stirring from her dreamless sleep, she glanced left and right. Her hands were free of the bindings. Brow curled, she looked over at the closed door, pondering if her captor had snuck into the room while she was out.

Honey sat up with a start, blinking the remnants of sleep from her eyes. She reached for her wrists, finding nothing but an oily residue left behind. Still puffy from the duct tape rash, her skin was sensitive to her touch, but otherwise unharmed.

She glanced up at the closed door. Her stomach churned. She fought the instinct to curl up and hide beneath the bed. The memory of Peter’s fierce gaze lingered, a raw burn in her mind. 

Despite her logic telling her that she was the victim, she still felt conflicted. 

She had been kidnapped, sure— and she needed to do whatever was necessary to survive. Strangely, she still felt guilty for taking a swing at him like she did. As soon as her fingers touched the rock, she slammed it into the side of his head, without much thought.

“What are you, stupid? It’s a wonder you even make it home alive each night!”

She couldn’t quite name what came over her. She dealt a blow to his temple that could’ve killed him. Surprised that it didn’t. And then what would that be like? Could she really find it in herself to kill another human being? Not to mention, she’d be alone in the woods with a dead body, with no clue where she was. 

The thought made her queasy, twisting her stomach into a pretzel. She could’ve just run away, but when it came time to do so, she froze. Typical.

While she was hiding, she watched and listened quietly to his rampage below. Rage was one thing she expected, but not the misery she witnessed. The look she found in his eyes was something else entirely. Heartbreak and relief, like he would burst into tears at any moment.

It made her heart ache to witness it.

And then she hit him with a rock. Like some kind of cavewoman. 

Brilliant idea, she thought disdainfully.

“You need to slow down!” More bitter thoughts flooded her, this time with the voice of her mother. “Always talking too fast! Always moving too fast! You do without thinking. No wonder you mess everything up.”

Her eyes grew heavy with melancholy and exhaustion. Despite the darkness wrapped around her, she felt like sleep was out of the question.

A strange melody crept up through the closed door to her room. Voices. Percussion. Music. Upbeat and entrancing. 

There wasn’t a clock in her room but she had figured it was the middle of the night. Why would Peter be jamming out in the middle of the night?

Her stomach twisted again. The thought of coming face-to-face with him gave her chills. She rubbed her wrists idly. She could feel bruises there. She was afraid to leave the room. But she was also starving, and lamented not having at least one sandwich before her daring and ill-conceived escape. She was also miserably dehydrated, as every bit of moisture had leaked through her swollen eyelids.

And she had to pee. And that was now all she could think about. Her room thankfully had its own bathroom. Swinging her still-booted feet over the edge of the bed onto the floor, she tiptoed to the bathroom and relieved herself.

She thought she heard singing. Bad, out-of-tune singing. Creeping to the door, she placed her ear against the cool surface, trying to identify thes source. Out of curiosity or courage, she twisted the handle and peeked her head around the frame.

By the time she reached the bottom step of the staircase into the living room, she had a full view of the area and Peter was nowhere in sight. The one person who was in the room (and the source of music) was Miles, as he sat at the kitchen bar and dangled a pizza slice larger than his head above his mouth. 

The music was echoing across the room from a tiny portable speaker on top of the kitchen bar. In his own world, the teenager’s head bobbed as he blew steam from his pizza, then took a giant bite. 

She watched curiously as she approached from behind. The giant decorative clock built into the great room wall confirmed that it was incredibly late. Or early. One wouldn’t know it from Miles’ energy, or the volume of his jam session. She looked left and right, expecting to find more people, but saw no one else.

The flow of the music was broken when she accidentally walked into a low-height side table, her knee knocking to the corner. The lamp on top of the table jolted and Miles spun around in the barstool, letting out a piercing screech that could best be described as falsetto.

Honey responded in kind, letting out a shrieking Ahhhhhh of her own. Miles curled himself up on the stool, pulling his palms and one leg up defensively. “Sorry!” she blurted, as he clutched his own chest. “Sorry! So sorry! I didn’t mean to—”

“You scared the crap outta me!” Miles said, his panic ebbing.

“I didn’t mean to—wait, is that how you really scream?”

“What about it?!” Miles exclaimed indignantly. “Not the point! You’re the one who’s creepin’ up on people like we’re in a horror movie... Crazy... La Llorona stuff!” The pitch of his voice normalized as he took a deep breath, frustration subsiding. “I dead-ass almost punched you in the face—I don’t mess around!”  

“Sorry, sorry...” Honey babbled, her face twisted in a grimace. “I, uh, didn’t mean... to, uh... Llorona...”

“It’s fine!” Miles sighed, his heart rate slowing. It didn’t sound fine. “It’s over—maybe let’s just not ever mention this again, okay? To anyone? Especially not to people I know.”

Honey nodded her head in agreement, motioning that her lips were zipped and she was ‘throwing away the key.’ 

A few awkward moments of silence passed between them as he reached over and turned down the music on the speaker. He straightened out his zip-up hoodie uncomfortably. A small smile crept up on her face. She found his reaction endearing, and not at all what she expected from—whatever it was they were involved with.

“Um,” she cleared her throat. “Hi.”

Miles gave her a sheepish look. “Hi.”

There was a mountain of awkwardness between them. She looked around, then pointed at the massive box of pizza. “So... post-midnight snack?”

“Oh,” the teenager responded, looking back at the pizza. “Yeah, that’s right. You’re probably hungry.” He reached for the box, opening the lid. “Here, have some. It’s Lucia’s. There’s plenty.”

“Lucia’s?” she exclaimed, pondering the distance between wherever they were to downtown Flushing. She moved to the box, peering inside. “I like Dani’s.” 

“Well, nobody’s perfect. This pie heats up better,” Miles remarked, taking another bite of his slice. 

“Yeah?” Her eyes slid over to Miles. “How fresh is it?”

“Boss said to bring Lucia’s. So I did.” He shrugged his shoulders idly, placing his attention back on his slice of pizza. She slumped with a huff, having been dismissed.

“Boss,” she repeated, a chill going down her spine. “You mean Ben. Or...Peter, I guess,” She glanced around the mostly empty kitchen and living area, almost as if saying his name would summon him like Bloody Mary. “Is he here?”

Miles smacked his lips, wiping his mouth. “Nope, just me.” 

There was a pleasant calmness in his demeanor. It seemed to her that he was the only normal person that she’d met since being pulled off the train. The only person that treated her like a real person. Not that Peter hadn’t tried to show her kindness... or at least, what his mind perceived as kindness.

She rocked forward on her toes, suddenly interested in the fibers of the cardboard box. “Is he... Is he okay?”

Miles avoided looking at her, and she wondered how much Peter had told him about her escape attempt. She wondered why she felt suddenly embarrassed by her actions. Ashamed even. What did that say about her?

“Didn’t say much,” he replied. “Said he needed to take care of some stuff. Told me to hang out in case you needed anything.” 

Something burned in her chest, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about it. “That was nice,” she stated in earnest. “I guess.” 

“He’s pretty cool,” Miles nodded, matter-of-factly. “Nice guy.”

She bitterly scoffed, crossing her arms across her chest, “I wouldn’t go that far.”

He didn’t respond. He was skilled at avoiding her provocation despite how badly she wanted to start a fight. Passively, he devoured his pizza in record time, then reached over the box to grab a paper plate. It looked sorely out of place compared to the grandeur of the kitchen. 

“Wan’some?” he asked. “I also brought soda and stuff. Boss said no TV, but we can watch a movie on Netflix or something. Or we got a Switch. You ever play Smash Bros?”

It took her a moment for the implications to sink in. “‘No TV?’” she repeated with a growl, letting out a frustrated sigh. “What are we, children?” 

She snatched the paper plate from his hand and reached into the box, grabbing herself a slice of pizza. Without further protest, she bit into the pie, savoring the taste. Lucia’s was superior, she recognized. 

“He said to get you whatever you needed,” he answered, paying her complaints no mind. “The whole house is free range except for the office. But everything else is cool. You can use the gym. There’s a library. The sauna. A pool, if you wanna check that out, too.”

She blinked at him, nearly choking on her pizza. “This place has a pool?” 

“Heated,” he wiggled his eyebrows enticingly. 

She glanced down, conniving. “What about a computer?”

Miles shook his head. “Don’t know about that.”  

“Could I borrow your phone?”

“No can.”

“C’mon,” she pleaded, her voice gentle. “I’m not gonna call the cops. Just wanna check in with my mom.” 

“Can’t bring phones out here,” he shrugged apologetically. “It’s a rule. Phones can be hacked and traced. All you need is a sus text like ‘Hey, I’m here,’ or ‘We issued you a refund for $600,’ and you click on the link and boom. They got you.”

Honey peered at him suspiciously, “Who’s they?”

“No clue.”

She rolled her eyes. “Your ‘boss’ sounds pretty paranoid if you ask me.”

“That actually wasn’t his rule,” Miles explained conversationally. He leaned back in the barstool in a way that made her anxious. “That was Peni. She’s our tech nerd.”

“Peni?” she repeated.

“Yeah, she’s like—a genius.”

Her pizza suddenly became too chewy. “So I’m just a prisoner?” she huffed.

Miles looked over at her for a few moments, considering her. He let out a quiet sigh. “I know it’s a lot,” he said kindly, then added with consolation. “Pete’s a lot. Sometimes.”  Stone-faced, she stared back skeptically. “But he’s a really good dude. Just... he worries. He wouldn’t do all this if he didn’t care.”

She glared at him through lidded eyes. “Do you hear yourself right now?” she spat. “You sound like a Lifetime movie. Do I need to call Child Protective Services?”

“Hey, not cool. M’not a child,” he bristled, offended. “I’m sixteen.” She stared at him with a raised brow, watching as he stuffed another slice of pie into his mouth. “Wan’some Mountain Dew?”

She blinked. Several times. Then resigned herself. “Sure.”

The eerie indigo and orange glow of civil dawn peeked through the bay windows of the great room. It was silent except for soft snores. With weary eyes and a suit jacket which had been wrinkled by physical exertion, Peter wandered into his house even more of an alien than when he’d left it. 

The sort of activities in which he’d participated in earlier that night did that to him. It made him a stranger in his own home. Even more in his own skin.

He paused briefly and took a moment to gaze upon the lanky teenager sprawled out on one of the leather couches. Jordans crossed. sticking up over the sofa arm. A Nintendo controller rested on his chest as he dozed deeply, film forming in the corner of his open mouth. The sight made Peter crack a bittersweet smile. Nostalgia accompanied by an ache of longing. Somewhere beneath Miles’ oversized clothes, there was a good kid who wasn’t all that different from Peter.

Who he used to be. 

His eyes roved across the room to the opposite sofa. Honey was curled up like a cat, still in the blouse and jeans that she arrived in. Her hiking boots were placed neatly next to the couch. The snuggly sight of her made his heart leap into his throat. Her upper body expanded and deflated in a steady rhythm like ocean waves, and the action both entranced and haunted him. The bittersweet feeling in his chest soured and blackened, until it became a guilt-ridden tumor wrapping tendrils around his heart.

He had been so cruel earlier. He erupted into a fit of blind rage. A brute. The kind of anger that made people want to turn their heads. Anger that if Gwen were still alive, she wouldn’t be able to look at without being sickened. He was the sort of person that Aunt May and Uncle Ben would cross the street to avoid.

He thought he’d lost her too. And he was terrified.

No wonder she was scared. It was his fault, to think that she could somehow see him as something other than a monster. Now, there wasn’t much hope in changing her mind.

Peter felt his eyes burn as he peeled them from her lithe form. He glanced down at his hands, observing the deep crimson stains in his skin. Rusty-brown spots soiled the wrinkled cuffs of his dress shirt. 

He’d have to throw it out, he mused. There’d be no getting those stains out. No matter how much time he put into scrubbing. No matter if he flayed his own skin off his bones, the blood would always be there.

His heart rate quickened. He felt bile rising in his throat. With alarm, he disappeared down a hallway, tucking himself swiftly in a washroom. 

When he returned, he was shirtless. His forearms were bright red, stinging with how hard he’d scrubbed. Head down, he crept quietly towards the staircase leading up to the bedrooms on the upper level. 

He paused at the sofa, glancing down longingly at the woman he would never deserve. 

The woman that would never forgive him for how he acted. 

Never forgive him for what he was. The thought made his lower lip tremble.

He didn’t deserve her. This was an undeniable fact. 

But regardless, she was still his responsibility. His to protect. His to keep safe. 

His to keep.

His shadow fell over her as he reached down and gently lifted her from the sofa. Effortlessly, he carried her weight like a towel over his arm, or a down-pillow in his hands. Ascending the staircase with her tucked against his chest, he didn’t miss the way she huddled closer to his warmth. She sighed against the skin over his heart in a way that made gooseflesh rise. 

Gently, he ferried her, like a small boat on a glass lake. He strode past the door to the room that she had occupied and continued down the hallway, headed to the southern-facing end of the house. He approached the heavy oak door to his bedroom and used his toe to push it open. The action barely disturbed her at all. Like floating on a cloud.

Moving through the bedroom darkened by blackout curtains, he drifted across his room and rested her body on the silk surface of the California-king bedspread. Delicately, he placed her head on a 1000-thread count pillow void of any scents other than his own. He hoped that it would smell like her shampoo by the time she woke up. 

He stepped back from the bed, listening the pulsation of her heart. Studied the pace of her breathing. Fixated on her soft features as she floated in her slumber. A familiar pang reached his chest as he watched her, hesitating for only a moment more before he padded to the other side of the bed. 

She sighed in her sleep, nuzzling the softest pillow she’d ever laid on, and shuddered comfortably as two arms wrapped around her waist. She felt herself pulled back and was cradled by a firm form shaping her own. It was warm. She was warm. The breath on the back of her neck was warm.

Her eyes shot open, a small gasp catching in her throat. Rapidly, she blinked through the murky twilight of the foreign bedroom, her heart spiking. 

“Don’t,” she heard a deep, raspy voice whisper in her ear. She went rigid, recognizing the owner of the voice and the body pressed up against hers. Alarm flooded her.

“Please don’t,” he said softly, with a tone that sounded shockingly broken. She was frozen. Stunned. By fear or surprise, or both. 

Another murmur, “Stay with me.”

It was a whimper shaped like a demand. With it, she swore she could feel a tremble in his grip. He buried his face in her hair, his bearded chin tucking into her shoulder. His arms locked her into an impenetrable grip. 

Instinct was screaming at her to break the hold. Told her she needed to fight. Or run, as far and fast as she could manage. 

It wouldn’t be very far. The previous afternoon he proved that he was more than capable of bringing her back. 

She let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. The way the air from his lungs ghosted over her nape made her eyes flutter shut. 

His arms were heavy. Firm, but not painful. Solid, not tight. She imagined the hearty limbs of the oak in the backyard of her childhood home. Three seasons out of the year, she’d scale into its arbor, hiding from her troubles. She once wanted to build a home there.

She should fight. She should run.

There was a monster in her bed. She was in a monster’s bed. 

And yet, sleep took her soon after. The most peaceful rest she’d had in ages.

When she emerged from her rest, she was alone again. Harsh daylight flooded into the bedroom she hadn’t had the chance to see. After a moment of confusion, she turned around to see the other side of the bed unoccupied. The blankets undisturbed. She glanced down at her own clothes. Though wrinkled and dirtied from her tree climbing adventure and attempted escape, they were intact. 

She was surprised, but even more surprised at the strange mix of... anxiety? 

When is the appropriate amount of time when you’re forced into your kidnapper’s bed for him to... you know... make a move? Was it her? Was she awful, or even worse—did she smell bad? 

The line of self-conscious questioning and odd disappointment frustrated her further. She sighed, silenting cursing her own stupidity, shaking the thought from her mind. 

Someone once told her that if life was a horror film, she’d be the first to die. It would’ve offended her more if she wasn’t wrapped up in the notion that if life could be a horror film, how would any of us know we were in one?

Her mother answered— ”Stupid, stupid girl.”

Attention now turned to the surroundings, she came face-to-face with another real-life magazine spread. A dream bedroom. The coziest jewel of this particular dream home. 

Although it was a modest size, it didn’t feel that way. The primary bedroom was decorated with a soothing blend of alabaster stone, exposed beams of reclaimed wood, and snuggly linen tones. Vaulted ceilings lined with ash. A winding, black iron chandelier dangled over the four-post bed she laid in. A stone fireplace stood opposite from the bed, accompanied by an overstuffed linen chair. Just as in the other rooms, a double-height window accented with floor-to-ceiling drapes towered over the room and revealed the breathtaking mountain landscape.

She sat up and gathered her jaw up off of the bedspread. Wiped drool from her lip. The room was charming and warm, like fuzzy socks and sherpa blankets. Marshmallows melting on hot cocoa. It wrapped around her, like a hug.

Like her visitor last night.

She yanked her eyes off of the rustic-contemporary decor, searching for Peter, as if he would’ve somehow camouflaged himself into the space. Placing her socked feet down on the blessedly toasty hardwood, she peered around curiously. The gentle roar of water running caught her attention as she wandered to the other side of ithe room. An open doorway led into another massive space, one side lined with wardrobe cabinetry and the other half of the room obscured by a wall. 

Idly, she followed the path through what she recognized as a closet larger than her apartment, rounding the corner of the freestanding wall. Clouds billowed around her, as she gazed open-mouthed at the primary bathroom. Sunlight poured in, lighting up the space, bouncing off of white marble and black obsidian glass tile—

And Peter Parker. 

Steam wafting off of his nude form, hot water pouring down his backside. She paused midstep, eyes like saucers. Felt the blood rush to her face. Panic swallowed her. She imagined this is exactly what deers must feel right before getting plowed by an F-150, blinded by headlights. 

Except that she was blinded by his wet pale skin, the way the steam rose from it, like he was the source of heat. The smattering of freckles spread faintly across his shoulders. His palms were flat against the backsplash as he bowed his head into the stream of water. His dark locks slicked back by a cleansing cascade. 

She followed the current down the curve of his shoulders and the peaks of his spine, down to the dimpled valleys of his lower back, and that breathtaking canyon ridge that dips down in a V at his hips— whatever that’s called— and never in her life would she see herself as an ‘ass enthusiast,’ but her mouth was watering now, maybe from the lack of hair on his body (his skin was so buttery smooth, what was his skincare secret?) or the subtle curvature of his shapely cheeks— 

Aimlessly, she collided with a freestanding towel drying rack, sending it clamoring to the tile floor. To her ears it sounded like the whole Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade falling down a staircase into a pile of cookware. She didn’t bother to see if Peter could hear the racket.

Like Icarus into the Sun, she hurled her own body back into the closet before she could be seen. Landed hard on the carpeted floor with a thud. She scattered, scrambling like a crab, on her hands and knees until she could get to her feet and bolt from the room.

In a frenzy, she rushed to ‘her’ bedroom, the one nearest to the stairs. She didn’t breathe again until the door was slammed shut and she rested her weight against it. A fire raged beneath her skin, her face aflame with embarrassment. She dragged her palms down her cheeks, groaning with mortification, sinking to the floor.

At what point is it acceptable to creep on your kidnapper in the shower?

Continue to Part 6

a/n - I've gotten such overwhelmingly amazing feedback on this. thank you so much to each of you that commented, sent me an ask, and big thank you to those of you that reblogged!

don't forget, to be tagged you must reblog so I can keep track of you!

thank you so much, angels!

[rissararity]

Hello!

I'm new here but not new to the Fanfiction scene. One of my fics was recently deleted by Wattpad and I'm devastated as it had only been up since October but had since garnered 31k reads and over 400 votes.

You can still find it on my AO3 account, called Little Soldats! I'm also going to post it here in hopes it can be enjoyed again! https://archiveofourown.org/works/48939712/chapters/123465391

Please check the story tags because it is NSFW and has dark themes. Like dead dove do not eat themes.

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My AO3 is in my bio