#peter tickles reader
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valiantphantomangel · 7 months ago
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Snow!
A V's scareoween special.
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"Y/N come on get up!" Peter shouts excited as he jumped onto your bed.
"What is it" you mumbled sleepy with a groan as he landed on your stomach.
"It snowed overnight! Must be like 3 meters in one night!"
Your eyes snap open as you quickly walk to your window overlooking the city, the entire skyline of New York was covered in snow and it was still snowing.
"Come on Pete we got to get outside"! You said with a wide grin as you quickly dressed in your winter clothes and rain downstairs with Spiderman hot on your tail.
"How are we even getting outside?" He asked.
"We got to jump from a window or something" You smiled before running into the living room where the team was.
"I heard that Y/N Stark! You are not jumping out of a window!", your adoptive dad Tony Stark yelled at you from the kitchen.
"As if you don't do it all the time!"
"Yeah well I'm an adult!"
"You don't act like it" you muttered softly.
"I heard that!"
You roll your eyes with a grin before stalking towards the kitchen to steal some of Steve's pancakes.
It was late afternoon when you stared out the window again, you wanted to jump out so badly and land in the heaps of snow down below. And you knew just how to do it.
"Steve! Tony said a bad language word again!" You yelled out and in came the soldier.
"Stark I told you to stop cursing so much in front of N/N!"
You grin as they fell into an argument and quickly put on your jacket, creek open a window and look down.
It was quite a long way down from the second floor but God did you wanna jump.
And you did, sailing through the air before landing in the snow below with a 'oof'. Peter jumping out behind you.
"Y/N! Peter!" Tony yelled as he looked over the window seal "Your grounded!"
You just grin up in response, but that grin fell really quick when you were suddenly tackled by Steve into the cold snow.
"How did you-?!" You asked bewildered as Steve wrestled you to the ground, you heard a oof behind you and could only guess that Bucky had tackled Peter.
"How did we get down here so fast? We jumped after you" he grinned down at you and lightly traced his ice cold fingers over your ribs.
"AH! Don't you dare Rogers" you warned.
"Oh if he won't then I will" You heard Tony's voice and a pair of ice cold hands on your knees and squeeze them.
A giggle slipped past your lips before you could stop it and Steve grinned down at you.
"You know? I think a good tickle session might make you rethink your choices" he mused before his hands dived under your sweater to attack your ribs.
"THIS IS NOT FAIRHAHHAHHHA" you squealed in laughter as Tony also attacked your knees and hips.
"Should have thought about that before you jumped out of a window" Tony said with a smirk and continued his attack.
Steve's ice cold fingers scribbled across your tummy which forced your sweet giggles to escape.
"Your laugh is so adorable" Steve said with a smile and blew a raspberry on your neck.
"HAHHAHHAHHHA" you screamed in laughter as your feet kicked out to Tony as well which clearly didn't bother him.
After a full 10 minutes of laying in the snow, being tickled to tears they finally let up. Although you could still hear Peter letting out bursts of laughter, seemed like Bucky found his death spot.
"Come on, let's get you inside young lady" Steve chuckles and scooped you up in his arms, Tony walked beside you and ruffling your hair.
Just as Steve carried you inside since you were colder then you thought you heard Tony call out to Bucky "Don't kill my other kid!".
You had a crazy family, but god's was it the best you could have wished for.
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auroras-blog37 · 11 months ago
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Hi! Noticed your requests were open! :]
May I request either Peter Parker or Loki tickle headcannons! Whichever you’d prefer to do, I’d love to hear your thoughts on em! 💕
Of course! Thank you so much for requesting :)
Peter Parker Headcanons:
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Lee:
The type of person to curl into a ball and just giggle
Secretly likes being tickled but would never admit it for the sake of his sanity
I feel like he would try to provoke you to tickle him
Very flustered to teasing
A mixture of a Giggler and Cackler
Peter is a 50/50 when it comes to tickling, he likes being tickled but also likes to tickle people
His ‘Peter Tingle’ going off when your fingers go near him
Ticklish Spots would probably be his waist, ribs, and neck
Ler:
Peter loves your laugh so he definitely tickles you whenever he feels like
Would get flustered at teasing you but does it anyway because it effects you more
He likes to use wake up tickles or tickle hugs
Gets butterflies at the sound of your laughter
You dare make fun of Star Wars or his Lego or any of his dorky interests he will tickle you
Uses both soft and rough tickles
If you make any funny noises like squeals, squeaks, snorts or anything he will definitely laugh at you
If you get pouty or annoyed after he tickles you he’ll give you a mock of sympathy and hug you
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widowsistersandfriends · 1 year ago
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Sneak Peek
Summary: You are too eager to open your presents, so you figure one peek won't hurt. The Avengers know just the right way to playfully punish you.
Note: Merry Christmas to those who celebrate! I hope you guys have been able to spend quality time with family and friends! I hope you enjoy this fic!
Word Count: 1644
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You were living at the Avengers compound with many of the Avengers, including the Widow sisters, Steve, Peter, Wanda, Kate and many others. This was your second time celebrating Christmas with them, so you were more used to the traditions. 
Bright and early in the morning, you guys would open presents and then eat a nice big breakfast. Each year they would rotate who would cook. This year, it was you, Peter and Wanda. However, you were looking forward most to opening presents. You were so eager that you couldn’t wait for morning.
You snuck downstairs quietly, making sure to not make any noise to not get caught. You tiptoed towards the tree, using your phone flashlight to look for the gifts that had your name on it. You grabbed a box that had your name on it, being careful to not let the wrapping paper make too much noise. 
You had succeeded in making a pile of your gifts and were ready to start peeking. However, you were so focused on being quiet that you didn’t notice Fanny and Lucky coming up behind you. The two dogs were so interested in the tree and presents and came up next to you. Fanny licked your face, as Lucky nuzzled into your neck.
You let out a yelp of surprise, gently pushing the dogs away.
“Fanny! Lucky! What are you guys doing?” You whispered, knowing the dogs would not answer.
The dogs panted and started sniffing the boxes around you.
“Don’t open those!” You said, trying to move them away from the dogs. However, you got frazzled and let a few boxes topple, causing a loud noise. 
You panicked and wondered about what to do next. You could either stay and tell them the truth, stay and blame it on the dogs, or run and hide in your bedroom.
You decided to stay and blame it on the dogs.
“I owe you one,” you whispered to the dogs, as they continued to smile. 
“Y/N, what on earth is going on?” Natasha asked, walking out and looking half asleep.
“The dogs were trying to open the presents, so I came down to try and stop them before it was too late,” you explained, hoping that your lie would work.
Natasha eyed you suspiciously, knowing that the dogs were asleep before they went to bed.
“How did you know they were opening the presents?” Natasha asked you.
“Umm, I just heard them,” you insisted stubbornly.
“You know we have security cameras around the compound, right?” Natasha said, now smirking.
“Don’t check them!” You blurted out
“What is all this racket?” Yelena said, coming out of their bedroom, her accent strong as she had just woken up.
“I caught Y/N lying and trying to peek at her presents,” Natasha said, as you shook your head and tried to retell your lie to Yelena. 
“It was your crazy dog!” You insisted, scooting away from the two sisters.
“Let’s just see, shall we?” Natasha said, reviewing the security camera footage with Yelena.
Just as the footage ended, you made a run for your room.
“Get back here, Y/N!” The two sisters called after you.
“Never!” You shouted, giggling because you knew you were busted.
You closed the door quickly to your room, only to have it opened a second later.
“No! Leave!” You said through giggles, as you backed up against the headboard of your bed.
“You’re in so much trouble, little one,” Yelena said, as the two sisters pounced on you and pinned you to the bed.
“Nohohoho! Lehehet me gohohoho,” you giggled hysterically.
“We’re not even tickling you yet,” Natasha said with a grin.
“Buhuhut I knohohow you wihill,” you giggled, shrieking as Natasha began drilling into your ribs.
“GAAHAHAHAHA STAHAHAHAP,” you screamed, unable to squirm much underneath them.
“I can’t stop because I have to tickle little girls who lie all the time,” Natasha said, listening to the sweet sound of your giggles.
“Me too,” Yelena said, now tickling your feet and joining in.
“NOHOHO IHIHIT’S TOHOO MUHUHUCH,” you cried, feeling tears welling up in your eyes.
“Awww what are you, a little baby?” Natasha teased, worming her hands into your armpits.
You wheezed with laughter, tapping the bed to signal that you surrendered.
The two girls let you have a break, knowing that you were too ticklish to handle them for a long time all at once. 
“So, are you going to tell the truth?” Yelena asked, giving your knee a squeeze.
“No!” You yelped, trying to pull your leg away.
“Liars get tickled~” Yelena said, switching spots with Natasha and squeezing your sides rapidly.
“AHAHAHAHAHAA NOHOHO MOHOHORE,” you squealed, arching your back to no avail.
“Admit it,” Yelena said, grinning down at you.
“OHOHOKAY FIHIHINE IHIHI WAHAHAS SNOOHOHOOPING,” you shouted, laughing until you were pink.
“That’s what I thought,” Yelena said, poking your tummy.
“You guys are so rude,” you pouted.
“Aww c’mon don’t act like you don’t love to be tickled,” Natasha teased, as you blushed and didn’t answer.
“It’s late, Y/N, you need to go to sleep,” Yelena scolded playfully. 
“It’s a little too late for that,” Natasha said, as the sun started to rise.
“Well, guess you’ll get to open those presents after all,” Yelena said.
“So you tickled me for nothing?” You asked in disbelief.
“Oh don’t worry, we had a blast,” Natasha said, as you rolled your eyes playfully. 
The three of you headed downstairs to open presents. You eagerly greeted the others downstairs, excited to open presents. You all sat in a circle and took turns opening your gifts. You received some new clothes, a book of your favorite series, a new journal, and some colored pens.
“Alright, let’s get that breakfast going,” Wanda said, in charge of the two kids helping her.
“Do we have to,” you and Peter both whined, wanting to play with and use your new gifts.
“I know you guys want to play that new video game Peter got, but this year it’s our turn to cook,” Wanda said.
“I refuse,” you said cheekily, as Wanda raised an eyebrow at you.
“Is that so?” She asked.
You nodded your head nervously, as Wanda pinned you with her powers immediately.
“No please! I’ve already been tickled,” you pleaded, knowing that this time would be even worse. 
“You can never have too many tickles,” Wanda said, squeezing your hips.
“HAHHAHAHAHAAHA,” you laughed, unable to hold it in.
“You know there’s no escaping this, Y/N,” Wanda said, using her nails to tickle under your chin, making you squeal with laughter.
“Wow, you’re ticklish everywhere,” Wanda teased, as you shook your head in denial.
“STAHAHAHAHAP,” you cried, as Wanda tickled away at your stomach.
“PEHEHETER IHIHISNT HEHEHELPING EITHER!” You cried, trying to avert their attention.
“Hmm, you’re right,” Wanda said, pinning the young boy next to you.
“Steve? Wanna help?” Wanda asked.
“You don’t have to ask me twice,” Steve said, switching positions with Wanda. The witch was now by Peter, pinning his arms above his head and tickling his armpits.
“NOHOHOHOT THEHEHERE,” he cried, knowing that his armpits were his worst spot.
“You’re just as much of a troublemaker as Y/N,” Wanda teased, as the poor boy was crying with laughter.
Steve came over to you, giving you a smirk.
“Well well well, what do we have here, Y/N? You just can’t stop causing trouble huh?” Steve asked, going towards your feet.
You groaned in anticipation, curling up your toes to protect them.
“Just get it over with,” you whined.
Steve decided to mess with you, going for a spot you weren’t expecting. He started to tickle your shins and over the tops of your feet, making you jerk out of surprise.
“GAH NO WHY AHAHAA,” you laughed, jumping from the sensation.
“Gotta continue the storyline of you being ticklish everywhere,” Steve said, now scratching behind the back of your knee.
“STAHAHAHAP THAHAHAT TIHIHICKLES,” you shouted.
“That’s the point,” Steve said with a grin.
“Now are you and Peter gonna help with the cooking?” Steve asked, continuing to torment your lower body.
You looked over at Peter, as he had given in after a bit of tickling from Wanda. She was the ultimate ler, but you were also the most stubborn girl on earth, so you were not going to give in.
“Maybe Peter will help, but I won’t,” you said stubbornly, sticking your tongue out at Steve.
“Guess we gotta go for the kill, huh?” Wanda said, as Steve sat on your hips and Wanda sat above your hands.
“OH GOD NO! WAIT! I’LL HELP!” You quickly gave in.
“Hmm, I think we have to make sure,” Wanda said, as she used her magic to tickle all over your neck and started raking her nails rapidly in your bare armpits. Meanwhile, Steve began to wiggle his finger in your belly button, making you shriek with laughter.
“OHOHO MY GOHOHOD STAHAHAP IHIHIT TIHIHICKLES SO BAHAHAD!” You screamed.
“Yeah? Then we must be doing our job right,” Steve teased, as your face turned bright red from the laughter and embarrassment. 
“IHIHI CAHAHAHANT! HEHEHELP IHIHI GIHIHIVE,” you cried, panting as they finally let you up.
“That’s what you get for being a brat,” they all said, making you feel greatly outnumbered.
“I am not a brat,” you insisted.
“We know you love being tickled, so the brat role fits you well,” Yelena chimed in, ruffling your hair.
You pouted and would never admit it, but you also knew you couldn’t take anymore tickles, so you decided to go help cook.
That Christmas was one of your favorites since it was the first time you helped cook the traditional breakfast. You looked forward to spending more time with them as the years went on, which also conveniently came with something you loved. Tickles.
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gingerlee-holds · 11 months ago
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OK SO!!! I had the cutest idea :3 Peter (one) and reader are either silly besties or dating or both :3 and they are both crazy tired drunk considering it’s past 3 am and because of all the silliness they get into a tword fight! (Possibly more Lee reader cause I feel like Peter would be feral when hyper and sleep deprived 🤣) and eventually Tony comes in and is like wtf is wrong with you two idiots?? GO TO BED!!! (Secretly loves seeing his kids all giggly and adorable :3 🥺❤️) and then they both end up crashing and getting sleepy but they are still a little giggly about some jokes/moments which leads to more tickles and it’s like sleepy cuddly giggly tickles 😭❤️ and then they both get supppperrrr sleepy and end up falling asleep in each others arms with smiles on their faces and tony comes back in cause he’s scared the children are dead 😂 and sees the adorableness and proceeds to post it to the avengers group chat and it ends in them waking up being like WHO THE FUCK TOOK A PICTURE OF US!? 🤣 (ok definitely mutal pining/idiots in love but they just don’t admit it yet 🥹)
okayokay so this was kinda just written with you in mind teddy xD i love ya and i hope you enjoy this silly lil fic!!
Feral
Words: 1,275 Pairing: Ler!Peter1, Lee!Reader Warnings: whoooole lotta fluff heehee
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“Uno!” you called out. You grinned to yourself as you glared playfully over your final card at Peter, who had somehow collected fifteen cards throughout the game. His eyes squinted suspiciously as he hesitantly placed down the yellow three before he jolted backward in shock when you slammed down the red three, winning you the game.
“C’mon!” Peter fell sideways onto the carpet with a groan. “We’ve been doing this for five hours! How have I not been able to win even once?”
“I’m just too good!” You giggled as you playfully hit his shoulder. Looking over at the clock on the wall, you saw he was correct: it was past three in the morning, and not another soul was stirring in the entire Avengers tower. Both of you had been blinking sleep from your eyes for a while, but neither wanted to go to bed. Most of the other heroes had missions they were absent for, but the few still at the tower were fast asleep.
Peter yawned, bringing your attention back to him. It was so rare that you two spent so much time with each other. You missed the messy-haired hero a lot when he wasn’t around, and now that you two had the weekend mission-free, you were utterly adamant that you would make the most of it. You yawned, too. The stubbornness that made you such a valuable addition to the team was matched only by the spiderling. Grinning, you picked up the cards and began to reshuffle them.
“No, please, no more,” Peter whined sleepily, smiling despite his tone. “Can we play something else?”
“Like… Battleship? You know I’m always down to beat you again,” you giggled and stuck out your tongue. The two of you may have been on par with stubbornness, but you had him and everyone else soundly beat when it came to board games, to the degree that Tony insists you’re somehow cheating. 
“Absolutely not! I’d rather take a hive of wasps,” Peter grumbled, sitting back up with a huff. He hummed in thought before grinning. “I know a game we can play.” 
You tilted your head a bit, interested. “What did you have in mind?”
“Close your eyes for a second.”
Doing as you were told, you closed your eyes, sitting perfectly still and trying to guess what Peter was doing. Unfortunately for you, Peter was among the stealthier Avengers, something he demonstrated when you felt his hands grab you from behind, scribbling over your tummy. 
“We should have a tickle fight!” Peter giggled into your ear as you erupted into bubbly laughter. “This is a game I know I can win!” 
“YouhuhU LihIhihIttle ShihihIhihit! GehehEHet OhohohOFf!!” You kicked your feet, sending Uno cards flying all over the room. Peter wiggled his fingers up to your ribs, and your laughter kicked up a notch as you thrashed about in his grasp. 
“I’ll do no such thing! I’m stronger than you, little cutie!” 
Your face instantly began heating up. Whether or not the tease was intentional, it was extraordinarily flustering to hear from Peter Parker. You swatted at his hands as you squeaked, and, so experienced to losing tickle fights, Peter knowledgeably grabbed one of your wrists and held it up so he could scribble in the hollow of your underarm, making you shriek in surprise. 
Suddenly, you both heard the unmistakable sound of a middle-aged man clearing his throat in disapproval. Looking over, you both saw a very grumpy Tony Stark leaning against the doorway. 
The silence hung in the air for a while before Peter whispered, “You can almost see the smoke coming out of his ears,” and the two of you burst into hysterical giggles. 
Tony groaned and rubbed the bridge of his nose in fond agitation. “I would ask what you two kids are doing awake this late at night, but I don’t want to know. Bedtime is now-time.” He pointed to the two twin beds in either corner of the room, then folded his arms over his chest. “You two have got to start going to bed on time.”
Peter giggled a little more, saying, “But that would be such a stark difference from what we usually do!” His pun made you both again dissolve into sleepy, senseless laughter. 
Sighing, Tony again cleared his throat. It was very obvious to all the other inhabitants of the tower that Tony utterly adored the two youngest members of the team. He was clearly struggling to speak seriously before the two giggly children on the carpet. “Peter,” he said firmly, giving him that look that the spiderling instantly took to mean he had reached the limit.
“Yes, Mr. Stark. Sorry, Mr. Stark. We’ll go to bed right away, Mr. Stark.”
Tony grinned wearily and nodded. “I’ll check back in half an hour. If you two aren’t asleep by then, I’m changing the Wifi password.” With that, he left and shut the door behind him.
It turns out the two young heroes didn’t even have the strength to make it into their beds. Still in a clingy mood from your tickles, you held onto Peter’s arm tightly, and both of you made a concerted effort to reach his bed, but in the end, collapsed onto Peter’s bean bag. You both yawned simultaneously, giggling about Peter’s bad jokes. 
The spiderling smiled, encouraged by your giggles. His hand slowly reached down and began tracing up your side. “The itsy bitsy spiderrrr…” Peter mumbled, slurring his words in exhaustion. 
You felt your face heating up again and scooted away from his hand, inadvertently snuggling closer to Peter. “Dohohohon’t!”
“Dohon’t what, cutie?”
Whining, you were too sleepy to squirm away as he continued gently tracing your sides. “Tihihickle meeee…” you mumbled.
“That’s what I’m doing, silly~!”
You huffed and buried your face in his shoulder. “Jeheherk!” Although you didn’t say so, the tickles were very relaxing, almost lulling you to sleep -more than almost. When his breath finally evened out to sleep, you didn’t stand a chance. Both of you were out like lights. 
Tony walked back in, expecting to deal with more patented Peter Snark. To his surprise, he saw the two little heroes tuckered out on the beanbag, holding each other tightly with big cozy smiles on both of their faces. Tony pressed a button on his glasses, taking a secret photo, before pulling it up on his phone to send to the official Avengers group chat, followed by a heart emoji. He yawned and shut the door behind him. Going to sleep sounded like a pretty good idea.
The chipper chirps of midday birdsong were interrupted by a shriek of embarrassment. “Wake up. Peterpeterpeter, wake the hell-!” You shoved at his shoulder frantically, not looking up from your phone.
The spiderling jolted awake, mumbling a Star Wars reference that was quickly cut off by a gasp when he looked at his phone. It was noon - they were supposed to be awake for combat training five hours ago! But that wasn’t the worst: the Avengers group chat had been active. He looked back through the messages, his face redder and redder as he read through the messages filled with the other Avengers gushing over the adorableness of the two young heroes. Peter finally reached a message from Tony, and upon seeing the image of the two of them snuggling together, he looked up, wide-eyed, at you. You looked at him right back. 
A heartbeat.
Cuties.
You both cleared your throats and stood, quickly running to prepare for training. However, you not-so-subtly saved the image to your camera roll, making you smile every time you saw it. 
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cherienymphe · 3 months ago
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Basic Training XIX
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Peter Parker x Reader
Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, mentions of MURDER/violence/kidnapping, captivity, public sex, degradation, forced pregnancy, forced marriage, stockholm syndrome, ptsd, housewife kink, cop!Peter
➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies​ | divider by @whimsicalrogers
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➥ series masterlist
summary: A pit stop during a road trip ends tragically when a small town cop sets his sights on you. You’re the newest addition in a long standing fucked up family tradition.
~
“She’s better than she was when we first discovered her condition, but she’s still not where she needs to be…”
The now familiar voice reached your ears as you stared at the sheets, picking at your fingers just as you heard Peter sigh. You felt his soft hand rest atop your head, fingers gently massaging your scalp.
“That doesn’t surprise me,” the younger man murmured. “I’ve been getting her to eat more, but her appetite still hasn’t fully returned.”
There was a bit of an edge in his voice, and beyond the numb cloud you’d felt trapped in for weeks, a tiny sliver of satisfaction tickled your chest. Even if Peter had not been candid with you about what he was thinking, you knew that some part of him blamed Steve for the predicament you found yourselves in.
As he and Dr. Banner continued to talk about you as if you weren’t there, you recalled the hushed argument from only days ago that had woken you up in the middle of the night. Peter’s voice had been easy to identify—Steve’s even easier—and you’d been unable to fall back asleep right away as their muffled voices reached you through the floor.
You hadn’t been able to make out what they were saying, but you’d known that it was about you. Even though his confirmation wasn’t needed, Dr. Banner had said what everyone guessed to be true. You were pregnant before you even went down into the basement, and now, because of the actions of that day and the events that followed, Peter worried that the baby wasn’t going to make it.
You were sure that parts of him blamed both himself and you as well, but you supposed that Steve was an easier target, and you guessed that you couldn’t argue against the blond carrying a significant amount of blame. Truthfully, you didn’t care about who was to blame. You didn’t care about this pregnancy, at all.
Nevermind the fact that it just didn’t feel real to you—and that probably had to do with the fact that you weren’t even showing—but because it didn’t seem real, you just couldn’t bring yourself to consider it a priority after everything that had happened. How were you expected to care about something you couldn’t even see or feel when you had your own internal turmoil you were struggling to navigate?
Peter was stressed about a baby you didn’t even want while you were absentmindedly leaning into the touch of a murderer.
“Did you hear that?”
Peter’s gentle voice pulled you from your thoughts, and you blinked, the scene before you coming back into focus. Both he and Dr. Banner were looking at you expectantly, and when you looked between them—lips parted and brows furrowed—it became obvious that you hadn’t heard a word.
You ignored the frown on Peter’s face as Dr. Banner repeated himself.
“You need to eat even when you don’t feel like it, okay?” you looked down at that. “You’re still a bit malnourished and nowhere near the weight and health you need to be if you’re to carry this baby to term.”
It went unsaid, but there was a silent agreement that it was a miracle you hadn’t lost the baby already. At the feel of Peter’s gaze on you, you gave the older man a nod, and he seemed satisfied enough to finish up his talk with Peter. Your eyes traced the white sheets as Peter and Dr. Banner walked to the door, their voices fading as the dark-haired young man walked him out.
A small bout of relief filled you at being left alone, but it was overshadowed by the anxious feeling your codependency to Peter often brought on whenever you weren’t around him. Down in the basement, you had started to grow used to the numb feeling of being alone and isolated in darkness and silence. The days and weeks had blended together until it felt like one long endless stretch, but then Peter took your hand again and looked into your eyes and spoke to you in that gentle way he often did and…
You were back.
You were back to wanting to be around him and wanting to always be touching him and depending on him as the only thing to keep you somewhat sane—if you could even call yourself that. You needed him—to act as a shield against Steve, to reassure you that you were okay, to remind you that you were worthy of being loved. 
It was painful to admit, now because some part of you also couldn’t stand the sight of him. Since being out of the basement, you were more at war with yourself than you ever were before, and it was hell. Whenever he looked at you or talked to you, it was a constant battle with yourself to remind yourself of what he did and who he was. A battle you sometimes lost.
Even his touch made you nauseous…
“Dr. Banner’s right,” he said to you sometime later after the man in question was long gone. “You really need to be eating a lot more.”
You said nothing to that, your gaze remaining on the white sheets on your lap. You could feel Peter’s gaze on you, hoping and praying for some kind of response, but you only disappointed him.
“I’ve been trying to find a balance, you know? I don’t want to force you, but it’s important that you eat and get your strength up. I was trying to give it time, but we can’t afford that,” he continued, reaching for your hand.
You snatched it away without thinking, and you could feel him staring at you. The silence stretched and stretched, and you avoided his gaze. This tense and awkward air had surrounded you two for weeks, and you knew that a moment would come where someone would reach their breaking point.
After some time, you heard Peter slowly exhale.
“I understand that you’re mad at me,” he finally whispered. “I understand that. You’re angry and confused…and probably really hurt…”
Your eyes watered.
“...and I’m letting you have that, but…do not do anything you’ll regret.”
His words made you frown, and you stared at the wall, struggling to understand what he meant.
“If you are doing any of this just to spite me…” you whipped your head around to look at him. “If you let anything happen to our baby just to hurt me…”
Peter trailed off the longer you just stared at him, your eyes growing wider and wider at his audacity. How could you even begin to tell Peter that you weren’t even thinking about this baby? That this thing growing inside of you that you couldn’t even feel or see was so far from your mind?
For the first time in ages…you wanted to scream at Peter. You wanted to hit him like you used to and hurt him like he hurt you and make this as difficult as possible for him. The thought to let something happen to this baby just to hurt Peter had never even crossed your mind. Although, you supposed that it wasn’t a bad idea, but you weren’t like that.
You didn’t have it in you.
You wanted to tell the man before you that if you were ever going to entertain the idea of losing this baby in some way, it would be to protect them from what you felt was a worse fate. It would be because ending its life before it even had a chance to take its first breath was a mercy in comparison to what they had to look forward to, and you didn’t know what scared you more.
Raising a son to follow in his father’s footsteps or raising a daughter to follow in yours?
It was too much, and instead of saying any of this to Peter, you chose to bite your tongue and lie back down. You heard Peter sigh as you rolled over and faced your back to him, unable to finally voice your thoughts and open the floodgates that were no doubt holding everything back.
You both felt and heard Peter move closer, joining you on the bed, and you didn’t have the energy to shove him away. His hand rested on your back, gently caressing it, and his apology meant nothing to you as you sought out sleep.
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Peter’s hands were tight on you as you spilled what little you had in your stomach into the toilet. His silence betrayed his attempts to hide his disappointment, but you knew that he didn’t like the sight of you throwing up when you were still eating so little.
Even if it was normal.
“I’m going to have to ask Dr. Banner what he can do about that…”
You wanted to tell Peter that nothing could really be done about morning sickness because it was…well…morning sickness. You imagined the doctor would tell him what you already knew—that while there was stuff to help reduce it, there was no guaranteed way to stop it.
After helping you wash your mouth out, he was quick to run into the room and get rid of the untouched eggs. The lingering smell was enough to make your stomach churn, and you worried that you’d be sick again. Your lashes fluttered as you slowly breathed in and out through your mouth, and you didn’t realize how long you’d been doing it until you felt Peter’s hand on your arm again.
When you opened your eyes, he had a glass of water, and you were too unwell to resist his help as he tilted it against your lips. He forced you to drink it all, and under different circumstances, you would have been moved by how concerned he was for you and the baby, but as it were, you could only think about how you were well and truly trapped now.
It was a fact before, and it wasn’t like you had a sliver of hope for otherwise or anything—long accepting your fate—but this pregnancy was like the nail in the coffin. Your eyes strayed to the painful ring on your finger as Peter guided you back to the bed, and you moved your head away from his fingers when he reached for your face.
The silence was loud.
“Are you going to hate me forever?”
The truth was that you didn’t know the answer to that. The most logical part of you guessed that some part of you would always hate him, but the part of you that had been so worn down by Peter and this house worried that a day would come—probably sooner than you think—where you would just accept Peter for who he actually was and not who you’d been conned into thinking he was.
Was that really the appropriate term though?
Had you been deceived? 
Of course you had. You’d been deliberately misled or just flat out lied to about the extent of Peter’s involvement in what happened to your friends. It was an agreed upon thing to keep it from you, so yes. You’d indeed been deceived to think Peter wasn’t as bad as he was, and yet…
Perhaps you held some blame in thinking it made that much of a difference to begin with. Whether he pulled the trigger or not—and he very much did—Peter still played an astronomical part in what happened to your friends. You wondered if making such a distinction in your mind was simply a way to ease the guilt you felt about giving in. 
You hadn’t even realized you’d started crying until Peter brushed his thumb under your eye.
“I’m trying to be patient, so patient, because I know these past couple of months have been a lot for you…but you’re scaring me.”
Peter moved closer, resting his hand on the back of your neck.
“I need you to talk to me. I need…I need to hear your voice,” he whispered. “I miss you.”
You squeezed your eyes shut.
“I know a lot is going on in that pretty head of yours. There’s always so much going on up there,” he chuckled. “...but I can’t try to make this right, try to make this better for the both of us if you won’t talk to me.”
Peter took a deep breath.
“I need you to get healthy again so that we can start forgetting about the rough start to this pregnancy and start being happy. We should be celebrating,” Peter told you. “This is supposed to be a happy time for us, and instead I’m scared—scared of losing the baby, of losing you.”
You hated the way Peter’s voice cracked, and fighting against everything in you, you made to move out of his reach. Peter wasn’t having it though, fingers digging into the fabric of your nightgown and the skin of your arm.
“You’ve lost so much weight, and you’re not eating enough, and you won’t speak to me—stop, stop,” he bit out, pulling you back despite your attempts to get away from him. “I miss you.”
You made a noise of protest, a frustrated whine leaving your lips as he fought to keep you in his grip.
“I miss you so much, I fucking miss you, and you…”
He swallowed his words as he tried to kiss you, and the sound of the slap was loud in the otherwise quiet room. You didn’t know who was more shocked by your actions—you or Peter—and you both just stared at each other for a few moments, silent and wide-eyed.
Your chest was heaving as your breathing grew heavier, and the sight of him started to blur as your eyes watered. You didn’t know why you were pushed over the edge by Peter trying to kiss you, but your whole body felt like it was on fire and not in a good way. Your hand stung, and you took note of the way his cheek continued to redden.
Peter looked like he didn’t know if he wanted to hold you or throttle you.
Your lips trembled as the words danced on your tongue, and the tears that escaped your eyes were hot. You could see Peter’s expression soften at the sight, and you spat the words out before he could say another word to you.
“You are a murderer.”
You couldn’t tell if Peter was shocked by the first words you chose to say to him in months, but he did look stricken.
“...and you made me think you weren’t.”
You shook your head at him, more tears falling.
“You made me think you were better than them. You fed me bullshit and made me think you weren’t as bad as them,” you choked out. “...and maybe…maybe that’s my fault too. Maybe I wanted to believe that to feel better about myself and what was happening.”
You pushed his hands away as he reached for you again.
“Even though I know it’s not my fault, I feel like I could’ve done something to stop this. Fought harder, been stronger, held onto my sanity a little tighter…”
You screamed when Peter tried to interrupt you.
“None of this is my fault! It’s all your fault,” you bit out. “All of this is your fault, but I’m the only one suffering.”
Peter’s face shifted into something angry, but you continued before he could come up with whatever bullshit about how he was suffering too.
“You miss me because I won’t talk to you, because I won’t touch you, but how do you think I feel? Fighting against everything in me that’s telling me to just lay down and submit to survive, telling me to let it go to be happy.”
You were full on sobbing now, gasping around every word you said.
“Every day I have to choose between hating the man that ruined my life…and being happy. Every day, it’s one or the other, and every time I choose what’s easy, I hate myself more and more.”
You reached up to twist your hands into your hair, pulling.
“It was bad enough when I didn’t know you were a murderer…”
You stared into Peter’s eyes, and you looked between them as you dropped your hands.
“...but how can I do it now? How can I choose what’s supposed to be easy when I know what I know?” you whispered.
Peter slowly reached for you, and your shoulders heaved.
“I kept telling myself that it could be worse,” you mumbled. “I kept saying at least…at least he didn’t kill them, at least he didn’t kill them.”
Peter was gently shaking you, but you were staring past him.
“...but you did. Even if you didn’t pull the trigger—and you did—you still killed them,” you quietly breathed. “You killed all of them…”
Your gaze met his worried one.
“From the moment you decided you wanted me, you killed them. You put them in the ground the moment you decided that,” you tearfully said. “...and I told myself differently to make it easier, to make it better, but it doesn’t fucking matter.”
You slapped him again and again, and when Peter painfully gripped your wrists, you couldn’t hold in your painful gasp. You still tried to hit him, but he wouldn’t let you, and you couldn’t stop crying.
“You’re worse than they are. All of them,” you cried. “Even Steve.”
You didn’t care about the hurt on Peter’s face at that, shaking your head at him.
“At least he doesn’t deceive anyone. At least he doesn't lie…”
The words just kept tumbling out, and it was too late to stop them.
“You killed my friends and took me for yourself and drove me insane,” you slowly whispered, tone incredulous like you still couldn’t believe it. “...and if that wasn’t enough…”
You pulled on your arms again, but Peter refused to let you go.
“You made me fall in love with you.”
Peter’s movements faltered at your words, and he moved closer, looking between your eyes.
“You knew what you were doing,” you breathed. “This is what you wanted.”
You frowned at him with a shake of your head.
“You wanted me completely helpless and defenseless without you. I can’t so much as breathe a different way without looking to you first, and you know it. I find out you shot my best friend, and I’m struggling with it? Struggling?” you let out a humorless laugh. “I should hate you! I should be plotting to strangle you in your sleep.”
Peter wrapped his arms around you despite how difficult you made it, and he shushed you.
“...but what would happen to me? Where would I go? Who would even stand to be around me like this?”
Peter forced you to press your face into the crook of his neck, his hand on the back of your head and his other rubbing circles into your back.
“You’ve ruined me, Peter, and it’s exactly what you set out to do,” you sobbed into his skin. “...and I knew it was happening, but I couldn’t stop it from happening.”
“You’re not ruined,” he finally whispered into your hair.
You pushed against his chest, but he wouldn’t let you go, holding you tighter.
“You’re perfect.”
His words both validated and disgusted you. You knew he was saying them because he believed them to be true, and that was the problem. Now that he’d broken you down and scrambled your brain into loving the man who killed your friends and kidnapped you, you were perfect. He’d molded you into exactly what he wanted, and that only made you cry harder.
Peter gently rocked you, refusing to let you go, and when the hand on your back traveled to your stomach, you shuddered. As he traced patterns into your stomach and whispered comforting words to you, you thought to yourself that you couldn't even hate him in peace if you tried. He was always going to be there, comforting you during the pain he caused.
…and for the umpteenth day in a row, you had to decide between hating the man who ruined your life…or being happy.
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ptergwen · 4 months ago
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omg can you write a blurb where peter and the reader are in the stage of their relationship where they can't keep their hands of each other and keep leaving hickeys on each other and sexiling their roommates ? love your stuff <3
my place or yours?
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ask box  |  taglist  |  blurb masterlist  |  main masterlist
w/c: 793
warnings: 18+!, smut (p in v), language
a/n: hehe one of my fave tropes, when everyone's fed up because they can't get enough of each other :D hope you enjoy! and friendly reminder to join my new taglist it's dead y'all lmao
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you move your hips against peter's, rubbing yourself against the growing bulge in his sweatpants. you both make noises of content, lips and tongues intertwined. peter helps you take off your shirt and works on your bra next. you smile coyly from above him as his hands find your chest.
"when's harry gonna be back?"
peter's hands massage your breasts, eyes glazed over with lust.
"uh, i don't know... or care."
he leaves a trail of kisses going down between your breasts. you giggle and push his head back playfully.
"but what if he walks in again?"
"don't worry about it, i put a sock on the doorknob... just in case."
you ruffle peter's hair, dipping your head down so your faces are just inches apart.
"you're so extra, pete. you could've just texted him."
"i know, but i really wanted to piss him off this time."
"i feel kind of bad, though. we've been sexiling him a lot lately."
peter moves his hands down to your hips, guiding you forward so your clothed center presses against him. he gives you a cheeky smile.
"so next time we'll go to your dorm and sexile betty."
you scoff at peter and capture his lips in a kiss. he bucks his hips up, into you, needing you. you need him just as bad.
you can't seem to get enough of each other recently, so much so that you'll go at it anytime and anywhere. your friends aren't too happy about it. they either get kicked out of the room or banned from entering.
you and peter finish undressing each other, fast but somehow still not fast enough. in one swift motion peter flips you over and grabs your leg, lifting it up to his shoulder. his dark eyes lock with yours. you nod repeatedly, desperately. he pushes into you with ease, a moan instantly falling from his lips.
"fuck, baby."
you hum happily. peter keeps his hips still for a moment, lets himself fill you up and feel you wrapped around him. he takes the opportunity to connect your lips once again in a slow kiss. you smile into the kiss and curl your other leg around peter's waist, encouraging him to move. he pulls out of you just enough so he can thrust back in.
peter begins to find a rhythm as his cock thrusts into you again and again. he can tell it's one you like by the way you grab at his shoulders and let out soft moans. he holds your leg in place on his shoulder so he keeps hitting the right spot, at the right angle. you can feel yourself drip between your thighs from how bad you'd wanted him and how good he's fucking you.
"pete... feels so good, baby."
neither of you are making any effort to be quiet. peter presses his forehead to yours, hips moving at the same perfect pace. you take his face in either of your hands. you close your eyes and focus on the pleasure. peter brings a hand down to rub your clit, earning a gasp from you at the sudden intensified feeling. he chuckles at your reaction.
"you like that?"
"mm, you know i do."
"wanted to hear you say it anyway."
you groan at peter's cockiness, but god does it turn you on.
"of course you did."
peter continues stroking in and out of you as his middle and ring fingers circle your clit. you crane your neck so you can kiss across peter's jaw, his chin, then back to his lips, his tussled hair tickling your forehead. you give him a look, the look with the eyes that gets him every time.
"harder."
peter brings your other leg up to his shoulders, holding them both in place, starting to pound into you. he groans out a fuck. you arch your back and reach up, hands still cupping his cheeks. you're breathless and he's panting. you want more and more, as much of him as you can take, even more than that.
"oh my god, y/n. shit, baby."
"needed you so bad, pete."
"i’m all yours."
peter takes one of your hands and kisses your palm. you squeeze your intertwined hands, eyes fluttering closed in pure bliss.
the moment is interrupted when you two hear harry call from outside.
"again, parker? really?"
he bangs on the door for emphasis. peter stifles a laugh, continuing to thrust into you, making you have to stifle a moan.
"hey, man! respect the sock!"
"yeah. you're a real class act, you two."
you wait until harry leaves to join peter in a fit of giggles. you push some damp hair out of his face, scrunching up your nose.
"okay, yeah. my place next time."
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tags (join my new taglist!)
@spidermans-gf @sacharinee @thollandsgirl2013 @pettypeety
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moonstruckme · 3 months ago
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Please oh please may I request tasm!peter using his super strength to impress r? I don’t know if you’ve seen the TikToks from Romeo and Juliet but he is dangling and does a pull up to kiss her and like that vibe of just being a bit of a show off to fluster her
You may! Thank you <3
tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 876 words
“I read something today,” you say, steam trailing behind you as you carry your microwave dinner into the bedroom. 
“Yeah?” Peter doesn’t pause in pulling on his suit. He nearly falls over when his leg gets stuck in the spandex. You’d think after so much practice, he’d be better at it. “That’s great, baby. Big step for you.” 
“Shut up.” You consider chucking a tamale at him, but no, not worth it. “I read a statistic about crime in New York.” 
Now you have Peter’s interest. He cocks his head, the suit hanging from his waist. Not getting distracted by his naked torso never becomes less of a trial for you. 
“Something you think I should know?” 
“Mhm. Did you know most crime here happens between noon and seven pm?” 
“Oh.” He rolls his eyes, putting his arms in their sleeves. “I know where this is going.” 
“It just seems,” you say thoughtfully, “like maybe you could stay here with me tonight. Since, you know, most of the crime is already over.” 
“I have class until six-thirty, sweetheart. What do you want me to do?” 
“Stay home.” You take a bite of your tamale, but it’s hotter than you expected. You chew with unladylike open-mouthed bites, trying to breathe out the steam. “Obviously.” 
Peter grins at your misfortune. You glare, and he makes a face so dopily in love you almost can’t stand it. 
“I have to go,” he says. “Whatever the statistics say, there are still crimes happening, and if I’ve got their schedule figured out those guys will be coming back to try and rob the gyro place again.” 
You swallow your food, frowning. “Damian’s place?” 
“Yeah.” 
“Oh, fuck those guys. Go get ‘em.” 
“I knew you’d get it.” Peter pulls on his mask, backing up towards the window. It’s been opened so frequently it doesn’t even squeak. You shiver at the cold wind it lets in. “Back later.” 
“Be safe,” you say automatically, pulling out your laptop and tapping random keys until it turns on. “Don’t go after guys with guns.” 
“I won’t.” 
You think Peter’s lying, but it’s the sort of white lie you’re okay with being told. You try not to think too hard when he goes out on his patrols; the worry would drive you insane if you did. You can never really fall asleep until you feel that wind come in through the window again, though, his body slipping into bed beside yours. 
You’re just navigating to YouTube when there’s a schwick, and your laptop shuts. You stare at the splatter of webbing on the back side of your screen in silent indignance for a moment before tracing it back to the source. 
“Peter.” Your boyfriend is dangling from the window of your eight-floor apartment by his fingertips. By only one set of fingertips. You know all about his abilities, and still the sight makes your heart shoot up into your throat. “What are you doing?” 
“Aren’t we forgetting something?” 
“What?” 
He attaches his webbing to the windowsill, using that hand to pull off his mask. “Uh, a goodbye kiss?” 
You roll your eyes, but it’s hard not to look smitten when the thing your boyfriend is sternest about is romance. You get up and follow the line of his web to the window. 
“You’re going to clean this stuff off my laptop when you get back,” you say, tone softening with fondness as he looks up at you. 
“It’ll dissolve,” he replies. “C’mere.” 
You bend, and Peter meets you halfway, muscled arms shifting underneath the tight material of his suit as he pulls himself upward. His lips are warm. The ends of his hair shift in the wind, tickling your forehead. You have to stop yourself from leaning all the way out the window to follow him when he pulls away. 
“Mm.” He licks his lips. “Save me some of those tamales, please.” 
“Do not tell me that I taste like bean and masa,” you plead. 
Peter grins. “No, I’m just teasing. You taste like you. Which is to say…” He pulls upward again, finding you just where he left you. “...very good.” 
Your lips curve against his, staying even after the kiss. “Flirt.” 
“Maybe.” He lets himself drop down below you, knuckles to his chin. It’s odd seeing him like this, so at ease with the city whizzing about nearly a hundred feet below him. 
You bite your lip, and his eyes drop to the motion. 
“Okay,” he says. “One more.” 
You grin. “Now you’re just showing off.” 
Peter makes a noncommittal humming sound, but you know he’s well aware of the impressive flex of his biceps and forearms as he lifts himself upward for one last kiss. You make it a good one, soft and lingering. 
“Is it working?” 
“Maybe,” you repeat his answer to your flirting accusation. But when you look at him again, your voice drops into a more genuine register. “Hey. Be safe tonight, seriously.”  
Peter’s eyes go soft. “I will. I’ll see you later, pretty girl.” He winks before pulling the mask on. “Keep the bed warm for me.” 
“If you’re not back by midnight, I’m putting an ice cube on your pillow.” 
His laughter echoes in the room after he’s gone. 
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acourtofchaos · 3 months ago
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YOU CAN HOLD MY HAND IF NO ONE'S HOME | Sirius Black x F!Reader
Summary: When you aren't as good at hiding your relationship as you both think you are. [Fluff. 3.6K]
Warnings: Hidden relationship, very soft sirius, a little suggestive, typical mischief from the other boys
A/N: This is a re-write of a fic I wrote years ago for a character I no longer write for and I thought it'd be cute to turn it into a Marauders fic instead of getting rid of it :)
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You woke to warmth.
To streaks of golden morning light that spilled from the windows and left glowing lines across bare legs that were hopelessly tangled with anothers.
There were soft puffs of breath stirring your hair at the crown and the faint smell of smoke and spice tickling your nose with every slow inhale you took in sync with the rising chest you found yourself buried against.
Your face pressed so deeply into the column of his throat that your lashes brushed the skin there when your eyes finally fluttered open.
And yet he tried to pull you even closer when you yawned and pressed your hands to his stomach in an attempt to shuffle yourself back, strong arms winding tight around your waist and the soft scrape of barely-there stubble over your forehead as he dipped his chin and planted a lazy kiss there.
“Don’t go yet.” He rasped, voice low, sleep-thick. "Want to hold you a bit longer before you go rushing off.”
You melted a little at that, your own apologetic kiss laid to the hollow of his throat before you pulled back to meet his sleep-warmed gaze.
Fingers stroking through the mess of his hair like you could soothe away the discontent that grew in both of you when you thought about having to leave his arms, his flat, pretending all the while that you hadn’t created a home for yourself in both.
Because that’s how things were between you and Sirius - how they had to be when this thing between you was a secret kept from the other three most important parts of your lives.
You’d decided together that they couldn’t know yet - Remus, Peter and James.
It was just still so new.
There would be too much pressure.
James and Remus were protective to an almost alarming fault and Peter would probably have a quiet panic attack over the possibility everything could go wrong. The boy who despised even the slightest arguments amongst his friends, fretting himself into an early grave at the thought of being forced to choose a side should it all fall apart.
It made sense to keep things between them until things felt more solid, less fragile than this sweet, tender thing you both held in your hands right now.
There was just times, this moment being one of them, where you wanted nothing more than to say fuck it and let them find out if it meant you could stay in Sirius’ arms that little bit longer.
And he was clearly thinking the same.
For when you stretched and tried to roll to the side, he followed. Catching the hand that had been reaching for your phone before luring it back and pressing it into the mattress whilst he rose above you.
“Where do you think you’re going, love?” He grinned, a little drunk with pride when you shivered lightly before throwing him a rather adorably unconvincing glare.
“We’re supposed to be meeting the others for breakfast and I still need to go home and change.” You huffed lightly, arching a challenging brow when he made no move to let you go. “Unless you want them asking why I’m in the same clothes I wore to the pub last night.”
Your words made his eyes spark, his voice turning silken as he leaned down, lips purposely avoiding your own and trailing tantalisingly slow over the line of your jaw.
“And if they did? What would you tell them, hmm?” He taunted, murmuring. “Would you make up some flimsy excuse like you did last night - let them keep thinking that you're so innocent and sweet, that you don't lie about headaches just so I can get you home and devour you sooner.”
“Are you forgetting we all grew up together?” You laughed breathlessly, loud in the otherwise silence of the room before it caught in your throat as Sirius nipped at your ear. “They already know I’m hardly what you call innocent.”
“Not like I do.”
You groaned when his teeth found your shoulder as he pulled at the collar of your t-shirt, sinking down until you arched like a bow against him before sweeping his tongue across the newly made mark.
You were clinging to him now, fingers buried into the warm skin of his ribs and every thought about getting up and leaving began to drift away like smoke in the wind when he raised his chin, smile sinful, teasing, to watch you as he rolled his hips into yours.
“Jesus, Sirius.” You breathed, an unbidden plea, and he sank down into you to kiss you then. All slow, soft heat as he indulged you, arms caging you in, gentle hands cupping your cheeks.
It made your blood catch light and your heart ache, your head dizzy with each brush of his tongue against yours whilst your skin grew warm and tingly from his body pressed flush against you - the sunlight that poured over you both when the sheets slipped away as you wove your legs around his waist.
A quiet moan slipped from you when he sucked at the pillow of your bottom lip and there was almost another as he drew back to look at you - all darkened eyes, ruffled hair and kiss-bruised lips.
“You make the prettiest sounds I’ve ever heard.” He whispered, voice a little awed whilst his thumb scraped over the arc of your cheekbone.
You grinned, something sweet and golden blooming beneath your ribs that made you glow from the inside, the air feeling warmer as you turned your head to mouth a tender kiss to his wrist. “Yeah?”
“Mhm.” He murmured, dropping his head to nudge his nose against yours when your gaze was back on him once again. “Everything about you is so ridiculously pretty, you’re killing me expecting me to just let you leave when you look like that.”
His hand found the edge of your shirt, fingers toying with a hole in the worn fabric before they slipped under to splay across the smooth skin of your belly, his thumb stroking small circles that dipped teasingly beneath the waistband of your underwear.
He watched as your breath hitched, as you shifted beneath him like you were trying to to push further into the press of his hand and then he suddenly leaned back. Eyes twinkling and lips parted before they quirked into a smug grin.
“Speaking of which - isn’t this my shirt?”
Shit.
You'd hoped he wouldn't realise that you'd snatched up one of his when redressing last night. Choosing to forgo your own that was nestled among a few other things of yours in the draw he'd cleared out for you.
There was something about being wrapped up in a shirt that smelled like him, that you swore still managed to hold the heat from his skin despite however long had passed since he wore it.
It felt like safety and comfort.
It felt more like home than any of the dozen places you had given such a title to over the years. And you craved it.
You thought Sirius understood. That he saw it in your face and the flash of nerves in your eyes that stealing his clothes was a step too far too soon, because even when you shrugged, when you tried your best to sound casual and lie that you couldn't find your own, his smile only got wider. Sweeter.
There was a new warmth in his eyes as he tugged at the hem again.
"Yeah?" He asked, grinning brighter than any star in the sky. "Well fuck, gorgeous, maybe I should start hiding all your clothes if it means getting to see you in mine. Looks so much better on you."
A bubble of laughter rose from your chest - bright and airy with relief and something impossibly tender for the boy above you. You wanted to draw him down, kiss him until you were both breathless and drunk from it and feel him press so deeply into you that it would be impossible to tell where one you ended and the other began.
You would have done it if it wasn’t for the sharp ring of a message alert sounding from your phone, the shrill of it puncturing the sticky-sweet haze you’d both slipped into making you flinch.
There was a pout on Sirius’ lips when you nudged at him, your hand a firm and constant obstacle when he still tried to chase your mouth with his own before giving up and falling back into the sheets with a dramatic huff. Hiding his smile with mock offence at the sound of your chuckle.
You bit your lip as you raised yourself up on your elbows and looked at him.
The lazy way he draped himself back, all smooth, tattoo-littered skin against black cotton sheets, grey sweats slung low on his hips and his hair wild from where your fingers had tangled desperately within it. He caught you staring and his lips spread into another shit-eating grin, his tone full of taunt when he winked at you. “You gonna get that or just keep staring at me like you want to fu–”
He spluttered when the pillow crashed into his face, choked laughter erupting from his throat whilst you huffed and rolled your eyes before snatching the phone from the bedside table.
And then they went wide.
Panic flooding through your gut as you attempted to fling yourself to your feet only to get your foot caught in the sheets, flail, and nearly end up in a heap on the floor.
You caught yourself at the last minute, a hand thrown to the wall when you stumbled before searching the room for your jeans.
“James and Remus are on their way here. Right now.” You told a confused looking Sirius, whose gaze swiftly changed from concerned to a disappointed understanding, his body frozen right where he’d frantically risen, arms open and outstretched to catch you if you had fallen. “They asked if I’m nearly at the cafe because they’re on their way but stopping to pick you up first?”
“Shit, yeah, I completely forgot.” He muttered, passing a weary hand over his face before he slipped from the bed after you and in search of a shirt for himself. “They offered because my bike is still in the garage.”
You nodded absentmindedly, eyes still darting along the floor before you spied your jeans partially hidden beneath Sirius’ clothes from the night before, all pooled together from where you’d tumbled into his room, mouths desperate on the others and hands a little too greedy to feel skin to take notice or even care where the things you were wearing landed.
He snorted at the way you lunged for them, the little cry of aha! when you lifted them triumphantly before bending to shove your legs inside them. “I’m just gonna have to go like this.” You huffed and Sirius had to bite down a wild groan when you straightened.
Between your sleep-roughened hair and kiss-swollen lips, the tight jeans and his shirt that, when the collar shifted ever so slightly, showed a brief glimpse of the pretty marks he’d left on your skin. He wasn’t sure how he was going to make it through this breakfast with his sanity intact. “...let's just hope they don’t recognise the shirt.”
He swallowed hard, shook his head in a daze both in an attempt to reassure you and to rid himself of the feverish need that was rapidly bleeding through his veins once more. “They won’t, it’s not one I ever wore that much.”
And yeah, maybe that was a lie.
But he didn’t want to mention that it had once been one of his favourites and have you decide that wearing it wasn’t worth the risk.
Not when the sight of you in it had something akin to possessive wonder coiling in his chest every time he looked at you, infusing his bones and making his heart swell with it. Racing to an impossible rhythm, a delirious beat of mine, mine, mine.
There was another chirp from your phone and you quickly glanced at it whilst Sirius distractedly rummaged through his drawers, cursing as you located your shoes and yanked them on before reaching for him. “I have to go.” You rushed out, fingers curling around the nape of his neck to drag him into a too brief kiss, his lips only just beginning to part over yours when you pulled back and tried to dash towards his bedroom door.
Only, before you could take another step his hand found itself wrapped around your wrist and then he was tugging sharply, reeling you back into his arms so his mouth could descend upon yours once again - hot and messy. More than a little starved for the taste of you.
And despite yourself you melted, humming happily before you felt him smile against you and the corners of your lips tugged up into one to match. “Sirius, I’ve got to go.”
You laughed when his hand curled around your hip to pull you closer. His voice muffled but no less cheeky when he countered. “Just getting it out of my system before I have to endure the torture of being surrounded by our friends whilst pretending that I don’t want to bend you over the nearest surface and fuck you whilst you're wearing my shirt.”
Your thighs clenched together at that, cheeks warming as you imagined it. Without meaning to your fingers tightened their grip in his hair, the hand that had rested over his heart curling until your nails bit into his skin and you had to catch yourself as your hips subconsciously rocked against him.
It made him grin like a devil, even more so when you swore, his eyes gleaming with heat, mischief when you flexed your hand straight and pushed yourself away from him.
He let you go without a fight to finally pull his shirt on and chuckled, low and rough, when your narrowed eyes tracked over the tempting fit of it before flicking back to his. “You’re an absolute menace, Black”
“Only for you, doll.”
You snorted at that and turned, still grinning like an idiot when you swung his door open before you screamed in shock. Your hand flying to your chest to cover the place where your heart slammed frantic against your ribs.
Sirius was by your side in an instant, his body surging past yours in a blur to place you behind him, expression hard and dangerous before it morphed into stunned surprise. His brow furrowing and mouth dropping open.
Because at his breakfast table sat James and Peter. Both of them never looking more delighted with themselves than they did in that moment with laughter in their eyes and bright ‘gotcha’ smiles spread wide across their handsome faces.
Remus was busying himself with pulling groceries out of a bag but you caught the way he glanced between both yours and Sirius’ disbelieving expressions before hiding his face, grin soft and his shoulders shaking.
There was a moment of silence where all of you just stared at each other and then both you and Sirius spoke at the same time.
“What the hell is going on?”
“Did you seriously just let yourselves into my flat and sit waiting for us to come out?”
It was James that answered.
Like he’d been bursting with impatience for one of you to ask just so he could, his fingers tapping impatiently against the solid wood of the table before he pointed to you.
“What’s going on is that you’ve been lying to us and now you’ve been caught red handed.” He smirked, entirely too amused by the way you couldn’t even hide your guilty expression before he turned to Sirius and shrugged. “And you gave us each a key.”
Sirius scoffed at that, snarking. “Yeah, for emergencies, Prongs, not to be cr–”
“So you don’t want coffee then.” Remus interrupted mildy, lifting one of the steaming cups from beside him without looking up from where he was setting things up for your apparent breakfast. A spread of pastries and fruits, jams, fresh bread, bacon and eggs and sausages all lined up for him to cook whilst you slowly processed what you had just walked out to.
And just like that Sirius lost some of his guarded edge. He still watched them all and then you with calculating eyes, assessing the situation, looking for hints of discomfort before he softened completely and trudged forward to take the drink, then a second, from Remus whilst you sank into the chair besides Peter.
You expected it to feel awkward but it wasn’t.
There was no anger or accusation from the boys, only curiosity and something soft like joy when they observed the way Sirius drew immediately back to you, one hand placing your drink in front of you and the other resting gently at the back of your neck to let you know he was there.
They hadn’t done this with any other intent but to let you know that everything was fine. That you didn’t have to worry about things changing or them thinking any different of either of you because they would always be happy with whatever you decided as long as it was what made you happy.
And with that knowledge you fully relaxed, easing back into Sirius’ touch. You took a deep breath and inhaled the smell of the coffee, the bacon that hissed and smoked when Remus placed it in the pan and after a large gulp of your drink you turned to the curly haired boy across from you and nudged his leg with your toe. Smiling when his lips quirked and he nudged you back.
“Go on then.” You sighed with a grin, “Where did we mess up - what gave us away?”
James laughed, his features boyish and light with it. “Take a wild guess.” He joked and when you didn’t answer, blinking at him in confusion, he looked at you for a beat, then two, and then at his friend on the other side of the table, shaking his head with amusement. “I told you it looked like they hadn’t even realised what they’d done.”
You glanced at Sirius who looked just as clueless as you, racking your brain for such a memory and coming up with nothing.
“You kissed right in front of us.” Peter finally explained with a quiet chuckle. “Well, it was at the bar - which we had a pretty good view of.”
It hit you then. A little soft and fuzzy around the edges but you could remember Sirius’ hand resting on your hip, the way he'd tucked you tighter against him to avoid getting jostled at the busy bar and it had been second nature. A reflex almost.
You had looked up at him with a sweet smile and the moment you had tilted your chin he hadn’t even thought to deny you, pressing a warm kiss to your lips and then another to your forehead that had made your heart flutter.
You opened your mouth and then shut it again, pressed your palm to your lips to smother the laughter that bubbled up - bright and delirious.
You had both thought you had been so subtle only to discover you couldn’t have been more hopeless at hiding your relationship if you had tried. There was a twinkle in Sirius’ eyes when you turned again to find him watching you, an undisguisable fondness when you reached out and gently punched his arm.
“This is your fault.” You accused, teasing. “You kissed me.”
“And you didn’t stop me.” He winked, far too pleased at the fact to even consider defending his lack of restraint when it came to you.
Before you could argue there was a snort from the other side of you and you twisted to catch James rolling his eyes, an indulgent grin on his face even as he complained. All faux wretchedness and almost enough drama to rival Sirius. “Good god, I don’t think I can handle you both suddenly being this lovey dovey. I think I preferred being in the dark about this.”
It made you laugh when Peter responded before you were able, an immediate quip that had the brunette blushing wildly when he mentioned how he’d rather see this than what he used to innocently walk into in the dorms whenever James had Lily over.
There was warmth in your chest - a champagne fizz type of happiness - when it turned into a competition of swapping embarrasing stories and the room filled with bickering voices and radiant bursts of laughter, when Sirius drew his chair closer and tugged you into his side, fingers drawing lovely, sweeping patterns on your shoulder whilst his voice joined the chaos.
You beamed at Remus, who appeared at your side to place a plate of food in front of you, a little mix of everything that you liked that immediately had your stomach growling.
He returned your smile immediately, eyes crinkling with affection when you thanked him, before he ruffled your hair like he had ever since he had taken you under his wing the first time you met so many years ago.
Forever the protective older brother that somehow turned into a scolding mother the second Sirius dared to reach over with the intent of snatching a piece of bacon off your plate.
There was a flash of metal, a string of colourful curses from your boyfriend when the handle of the fork Remus had been about to pass you rapped across the knuckles of the offending hand.
“Hands off, Pads, you bloody animal. Didn’t you ever learn manners, jesus."
“Me? What about you? You break into my house, hijack my kitchen, and then try to nearly crack a bone over a slice of bacon. Where are your fucking manners, Moony?”
You zoned out the bickering in favour of tearing a chunk of still warm pastry and popping it in your mouth, startled when James’ foot gently kicked yours beneath the table.
His eyes were bright and full of mischief behind his glasses when you frowned at him and you nearly choked when he pointed the coffee-foam covered end of his wooden stirrer at your chest.
"So considering you were still trying to keep it a secret before we surprised you, how did you plan on explaining the shirt?” He crowed. “Because I could swear Pads has one just like it.”
****
© acourtofchaos 2025. i do not give permission for my works to be translated, reposted or fed to any ai program. all works belong to me and should not be claimed as your own.
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luveline · 8 months ago
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do you still write for tasm!peter? if so i’d love to see ditsy reader with some new pet bugs🪲
“What’s this one called?” 
“Peter.” 
“Bub.” Peter looks up from the tank, your spider curling on a thin web an inch below his hands. “You can’t call them all Peter.” 
You smile at him in your way, as though any disagreement at all is temporary. You’re right, but it doesn’t make it any easier on Peter —half his flirtation lies in teasing arguments that you refuse to entertain. “I haven’t. The yellow backed one is called Parker.” 
He rushes across the room to sit atop your legs, knocking your phone aside to empty your hands. As he predicts, you sew a hand into the front of his hair and scratch. 
“What did I do to deserve such an honour?” he says, his voice sliding into a murmur as you bring his face against yours. It’s not always easy to relax in a room full of bugs; you’ve spiders and mantis’, beetles and stick bugs, even an enclosure of little moths. Each taken care of with more love than they could ever feel, but creepy and crawly. They put Peter on edge. 
“Don’t they look like Peter Parker’s to you?” 
“Am I that spindly?” 
You feel along his arm. It tickles, your fingertips digging into tight muscle. “No, I guess not.” 
“You’re flirting with me,” he murmurs, “aren’t you, bub?” 
“You seem to think so.”
He laughs, pulling you in for a short kiss. “Any more newcomers I need to know about?” he asks as you part, words pressed from his mouth to yours. 
Your breath warms his lips, “Only the punnet of mealworms downstairs.” 
“Alive?” 
You slide fingers through his hair, both hands, burying them against the sides of his head. His breath stutters as you kiss him with all the nonchalance of someone who was apparently made to kiss him, every inch of it right, and warm, and loving. 
“Decidedly not,” you say quietly. Across the room, one of your bugs skitters into foliage. “They’re for the spiders.” You smile. He feels it under his lips. “Hey, do you think you’d like one?” 
“No.” 
“You’re part spider, now.” 
“Still too human to eat mealworms, baby.” 
You breathe out softly as he kisses your shoulder. “That’s a shame.” 
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psychoticfemmm · 5 months ago
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Hia! Can you do another Peter Parker x Stark! Reader, I absolutely loved your last one. Could the plotline be along the lines of : Tony walks into your room and finds you and Peter asleep cuddling after you snuck him in the night before. Maybe the whole team gets involved and starts taking photos for blackmail 🤣 Thank you!
 Caught in the Act
pairing: Peter Parker x stark!reader
summary: read the request
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The sunlight streamed through your bedroom curtains, falling perfectly on the two of you. Peter Parker’s arm was draped over your waist, his face nuzzled into your neck. His warm breath tickled your skin, and you groaned softly, stirring from your sleep.
The events of the night before were hazy but thrilling: a whispered phone call, Peter scaling the side of the Avengers Tower, and an impromptu movie marathon that ended with the two of you tangled up in each other’s arms.
Peter shifted in his sleep, his nose brushing against your collarbone. A soft hum escaped him, and you smiled, reaching up to lightly ruffle his messy curls.
“Good morning, lovebirds.”
The unmistakable voice of Tony Stark shattered the moment.
Your eyes snapped open, and your heart dropped. Standing at the foot of your bed was your dad, his arms crossed and an expression caught between amusement and absolute mortification.
“D-Dad?!” you stammered, sitting up abruptly. Peter groaned at the sudden movement, blinking himself awake.
“Morning, Mr. Stark,” Peter mumbled sleepily before realizing where he was and who was standing there. His eyes went wide, and he bolted upright. “MR. STARK! I—uh—this isn’t what it looks like!”
Tony raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Really? Because it looks like Spider-Boy snuck into my daughter’s room and decided to cuddle his way into trouble.”
“Dad, it’s not like that!” you protested, though your flushed face said otherwise.
“Oh, so it’s worse,” Tony quipped, cutting you off. “Got it. And by the way, the entire team is outside, loving this.”
Your jaw dropped. “You didn’t.”
“Oh, I did,” Tony replied smugly. “Because if I have to suffer through this, everyone else does too.”
Right on cue, the door creaked open, and Steve Rogers stepped in, his phone out and snapping a picture. “Morning, kiddos. Cute couple pose, by the way.”
“STEVE!” you yelled, grabbing a pillow and chucking it at him.
Natasha followed, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk. “Aw, I remember young love. You guys were adorable—until Stark called us in for backup.”
“Seriously?” Peter groaned, burying his face in his hands.
“Oh, it’s not just us,” Natasha added as Thor poked his head in.
“Why was I not informed of this bonding moment?” Thor boomed, grinning. “Ah, Spider-Man and Stark’s offspring. A powerful duo!”
“Can you all get out?!” you shouted, grabbing another pillow.
“Not until I get my blackmail photo,” Natasha teased.
Peter tugged you closer, his lips brushing against your ear. “You know, if this keeps up, I might have to climb out the window.”
“Don’t tempt me,” you muttered back, glaring at the group.
Bruce finally showed up, shaking his head with a soft laugh. “Tony, you’ve really outdone yourself this time.”
“I like to think I’m setting the bar,” Tony said smugly.
Finally, the team filtered out, laughing and bantering as they went. Tony lingered for a moment, fixing Peter with a look. “You’re lucky I like you, Parker. But if I catch you sneaking in again, I’ll make sure you regret it.”
“Yes, sir,” Peter stammered.
As the door shut, the room finally fell silent. You let out a sigh, flopping back onto the bed. Peter lay beside you, covering his face with his hands.
“Well,” you started, “that went about as horribly as it could’ve gone.”
Peter groaned. “They’re never going to let me live this down. Your dad is probably going to build a tracker for me now.”
“Probably,” you teased, rolling onto your side to face him.
He peeked at you through his fingers, his face still flushed. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“Maybe a little,” you admitted with a grin.
Peter leaned in closer, his voice dropping slightly. “You know, we could’ve avoided all of this if you hadn’t convinced me to stay the night.”
You raised an eyebrow, smirking. “I convinced you? Last I checked, you were the one who said, ‘But I can’t leave you now, you’re too cute when you’re sleepy.’”
His cheeks turned redder. “Okay, fine. Maybe I did say that.”
You leaned closer, your lips brushing against his. “Guess you’ll just have to make it up to me later.”
Peter’s breath hitched, but before he could respond, you pulled back, smirking. “Now, get up, Spider-Boy. We’ve got breakfast to deal with—and probably a million jokes from the team.”
“Great,” he muttered, though a small smile tugged at his lips. “But next time, we’re sneaking into my room. May wouldn’t call the Avengers on us.”
“Deal,” you replied, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the door.
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valiantphantomangel · 1 year ago
Text
The best Christmas ever.
"Reindeer Games!! the lights have to be at least six inches away from each other!" Tony shrieked as he nearly ran into Steve who was carrying in another christmas tree with Bucky.
The sixth christmas tree in the freaking living room!
"Calm down man of iron" Loki grumbled as he pulled the lights further apart with the help of Natasha.
"Do you not know how to hang ornaments"?! Iron man freaked as he turned the small ball a few degrees the other way "go you disgust me"! He yelled at Sam before chasing after him with his small note book.
"Yep he's definitely gone insane" Natasha said with a nod as she and Loki climbed down from the ceiling where the lights hang.
"I have to agree with Lady Natasha" Thor mused while he made sure the lights were secured tightly.
"Who even put him in charge?" Rogers asked as he pushed the christmas tree upright.
"you did Cap" Clint said with a laugh from the vents where he was keeping watch so you wouldn't walk in on them decorating yet.
"...Right"
just then Peter literally fell from the ceiling with a shriek leaving Loki to catch him and put him back on his feet "Y/N is in the elevator to this floor"!!
Since it was a surprise that they were decorating the tower to give you the best Christmas ever, Loki quickly cast a spell to make all the decorations go invisible and they all dived into a hiding spot.
Somehow Sam managed to dive almost on top of Bucky who let out a groan and shoved him off "Damm it Samuel"!
Everyone shushed him and stayed hidden just as the elevator doors opened, you walked out with your headphones on listening to music and walked into the kitchen to grab some left over pizza.
"we need to distract her until we are done" Nat whispered to Loki as they sat crouched behind a couch.
"I'll distract her, you guys finish decorating" He whispered back with a grin, being the God of mischief and lies gave him quite the advantage on knowing your ticklish little secret and he was more then happy to finally use it.
Loki stood up and walked up behind you, tapping you on the shoulder and successfully making you jump in fright.
"Jesus Christ Loki! You scared the living daylights out of me" You said with a hand on your heart as you took off your headphones.
"My apologies, i simply wanted to ask if I could retrieve my book from your room?" He said hiding his grin.
"Yeah of course, I'll show you where it is" you said with a nod and walked off with your plate of pizza after kicking the fridge door shut.
Loki trailed behind you as you both stepped into your room, but before you could utter 'abracadabra' he tackled into your bed and pinned you underneath him.
"Loki what the hell" you said confused which quickly turned into a surprised giggle when he traced your ribs.
"Sorry for the scare darling, it's just that I heard some interesting information about you" He said with a mischief smirk as he continued to trace your ribs and tummy.
"And what would that behihihi?" you giggle nervously.
"Sargeant Barnes told me about your little ticklish secret" Loki mused as he ghost tickled your tummy which sent chills all over since you were incredibly sensitive.
Your eyes widen before bursting out in giggles as you trashed around, he dug into your ribs and softly traced your tummy at the same time, driving you into madness.
"NOT THEREHIHIHIHIHI" you screamed in laughter as you arched your back to escape him which only gave him more access to your sides.
"Then I'll just switch places love" Loki grinned as he scratched lightly over your neck before suddenly blowing a raspberry on your tummy.
"GHAHHAHAHHAHA" you laughed loudly until your laugh turned silent and he let up, pulling you up to lay your head on his chest.
"Shall we watch some movies for the rest of the afternoon love?" He asked as he played with your hair.
You hummed in agreement as you settled against him, curling up content.
And that's how the afternoon went, every time you tried to get up to grab something from the kitchen Loki latched onto your sides and reduced you into a giggly mess to keep you in your room.
When it got dark Steve and Tony walked in, smiling when they saw you two.
"Come on kid, we have a surprise" Tony said as he pulled you to your feet and guided you out of the room with his hands over your eyes, the other two quickly following to make sure you didn't fall.
After an interesting walk downstairs (Tony almost walked you straight into a wall and got his head smacked for it) you arrived in what you believed was the living room.
Tony took his hands from your eyes and you gasped.
The entire room was full with lights of all colours and in every corner stood a christmas tree, which was decorated to perfection with presents underneath it, you looked up and saw even more fairy lights around the ceiling. It was absolutely stunning.
A smile made its way to your lips as happy tears gathered in your eyes, you felt a pair of arms around you and soon you were engulfed by the team.
"You guys did all this?" You asked as you wiped your tears away.
"Of course we did, we wanted to make this your best ever christmas" Nat smiled as she threw her arm around your shoulders.
"Why?"
"Because we wanted to make you feel at home, loved and happy, we knew how much christmas means to you" Clint said as he appeared next to you.
"Well you guys certainly made that happen" you chuckle as you still looked around in wonder.
"Merry Christmas Y/N" Bucky said with a soft smile.
"Merry Christmas, you guys are the best family I could've asked for" You smiled brightly and you were once again engulfed by the team.
It was safe to say that this was the BEST christmas ever!!
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widowsistersandfriends · 2 years ago
Text
Fighting the Tickle Monster
Request: Hi! First of all, your fics are amazing and cute and I'm so sorry for the haters you're getting! If that's okay, I wanted to give you a little prompt for Wanda and reader. Like, since joining the compound, reader has always seen Wanda being the tickle monster (she gave herself that title!) so they get Wanda, only to find out she is a huge and adorable walking tickle spot! You're free to add whatever you want, even other characters, I don't mind :)
Notes: Thank you so much for this cute request! I appreciate your patience waiting for this fic! I hope you enjoy :)
Word Count: 2030
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You were new to the Avengers, as this was only your second week living in the compound with all of them. You were still in awe of the structure and layout of your new living space. The highest technology, finest finishes, and updated appliances. For now, you had your own room, but you were never alone for long. Especially since the rest of the Avengers loved hanging out as a group downstairs in the common area.
You had many mentors who helped lead the way for you. As you learned more about how to be a great superhero, you also learned a lot more about the roles around the compound. Yelena was the prankster, roping in Kate and Peter so she could split the punishment. Peter and Kate were young and maybe just a tad bit scared of Yelena. They figured it was better to split the punishment three ways rather than two. Natasha was definitely the mom of the group, caring and strong, while always looking out for your safety and well-being first. Steve was the goofy one, always cracking corny jokes and happened to be an amazing chef as well. Tony was the uptight, serious, all work no play guy around there. Thor, Bruce, and Clint were chill dudes, who bonded over their lack of understanding of what young people do these days. Lastly, Wanda was the one who would do anything to protect anyone, but she also had a mischievous side and couldn’t help messing with people given her powers.
From what you’ve seen so far, whenever Yelena would try to pull pranks with Kate and Peter, Wanda would be the first to punish them with tickles. Her powers allowed her to pin all three of them at once while still having both her hands free. Natasha would sometimes join in to help her or give away Yelena’s weaknesses. Even though you were new here, Yelena still tried to rope you in as much as possible. Today, you were involved in your first quadruplet prank, which you learned the hard way to not do.
The four of you had put on swim flippers, dragging mud prints into the compound, trying to scare the others that an animal had walked through and left footprints. You guys were able to execute it quickly, running into the garage to take off the flippers and hide them. You knew this was a harmless prank since Wanda could use her magic to clean it up in seconds. However, your flippers were stuck and you couldn’t get them off in time, when the garage door opened and Wanda caught you guys in the act. 
“Well well well, what do we have here?” Wanda asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Nothing…” You said, avoiding eye contact and trying to move out of sight.
“Seems like Y/N has gotten roped into one of Yelena’s famous pranks huh?” The witch said, knowing that Yelena and the rest of the crew were hiding nearby. 
“I wasn’t doing anything!” You blurted out.
The witch knew you were lying, as she could hear your thoughts. 
“Really?” Wanda said, smirking a little before sending some magic towards you. In seconds you felt ticklish sensations on your ribcage, making you double over with laughter and wrap your arms around yourself, to no avail.
“Wahahanda stahahahap gehehet ihihit ohohoff,” you giggled, struggling to stay standing.
“Not until you spill the truth,” Wanda said, upping the sensation, making you fall to the ground laughing. It also didn’t help that she had added sensations to your armpits. Wanda slowly made her way over to you, as you were a giggly mess on the floor. Your superpower was the ability to shut your nerves off. However, you were too ticklish and couldn’t concentrate enough to focus.
“C’mon Y/N, what’s the matter? Can’t turn your ticklishness off?” Wanda asked, now picking you up and flying back into the living room with you, and pinning you with her powers. With that, she continued the sensations and began to tickle your sides with her sharp nails.
“GAHAHAHA WAHAHANDA STAHAHAHAP PLEHEHEASE IHIHIT TIHIHICKLES,” you screamed with laughter. 
“Better fess up who else is in cahoots with you,” the witch teased, speeding her fingers up.
“AHAHAHA NEHEHEVER,” you cried, unable to squirm and knowing that if you didn’t fess up, she would tickle you to tears.
“Tell the tickle monster, before she makes you pee your pants,” Wanda teased, moving down to your feet.
“NOHOHO NOHOHOT THEHEHERE OKAHAHAY IHIHI GHIHIVE,” you shouted, knowing that once someone got a hold of your feet, you were done for.
“Tell me,” Wanda demanded, as you giggled from the lingering sensation.
“Ihihi ahaha was wihith Yelena, Kate, and Peter,” you huffed out, lying there in defeat.
“Ohh interesting,” Wanda said teasingly, as you knew she already knew all the details, wanted to tickle you to get you to confess.
“You’re evil, you know that,” you said playfully.
“Glad you picked up on that in the short time you’ve been here,” Wanda said with a wink.
“Now what do you say? Want to help me dish out a punishment to your other little minions?” Wanda asked with a smile.
You thought for a second, knowing that either way you would be in trouble. Whether it was with Wanda or Yelena. However, Wanda had way more power, so you took your chances with Yelena and led the witch back to the garage where the others were hiding. In your defense, they didn’t try to save you when you were being tickled to pieces.
You turned on the lights in the garage, telling Wanda where they hid. 
“Thanks, Y/N. I’ll give you a headstart so they don’t try to chase you,” the witch whispered. You quickly ran off, hearing Yelena shout your name to get back there. You let out a giggle and returned to the living room where you found Natasha doing a sudoku puzzle.
“Heard you got wrecked, Y/N,” Natasha said, smirking without looking up.
“Shut up, I did not!” 
“Everyone could hear your laughter throughout the compound,” Natasha said. Before you could respond, Wanda came back in, all three kiddos in tow.
“Why do we keep agreeing to this?” Peter asked Kate, who looked like a deer in the headlights, knowing she was doomed. Yelena was the only one trying to wiggle her way out of Wanda’s grasp, being unsuccessful. 
“The more you squirm, the more she’s gonna tickle you,” Natasha told Yelena.
“But if I escape I won’t get tickled at all,” Yelena said back matter-of-factly.
“Too bad you’re not escaping,” you chimed in shyly.
“You little turd. You’re the reason why I got caught!” Yelena said, pointing at you.
“Don’t worry, I already tickled her to pieces,” Wanda said, catching you blushing.
“Oh man, I wish I saw that,” Yelena said with a chuckle.
“You missed a lot. She’s super ticklish and has the sweetest giggle,” Wanda said, floating her magic towards you, this time on your stomach.
“Nohohohoo Wahahahanda plehehehease ihih’ve hahahad enohough,” you squealed, curling up into a ball. They all laughed at your reaction, much to your embarrassment. 
“I didn’t forget about you guys,” Wanda said, promptly pinning the three of them with her powers.
“Now, who should I start with first?” Wanda said, wiggling her fingers.
“Kate!” Yelena blurted out, before bursting into laughter, as Wanda raked her nails over Yelena’s armpits.
“AHAHAHAHA STAHAHAHAHAP.”
“Since you volunteered someone else, I decided to tickle you first,” Wanda said cheekily.
“IHIHITS SOHOHO BAHAHAD PLEHEHEASE,” the blonde laughed, as Wanda began to squeeze her knees and knead into her hips.
Wanda gave her a break and moved on to Kate, who was the most scared out of all of them.
“Please don’t tickle me! I’m sorry!” Kate pleaded.
“Hmm, no I think the tickle monster is still hungry,” Wanda said, blowing three raspberries on Kate’s stomach. It tickled so much that Kate went into silent laughter.
“Wow Kate, she’s not even doing much,” Peter teased, whose eyes then widened when Wanda reached over and tickled his armpits, making the boy squeal with laughter. She now used her other hand to dip a finger into Kate’s belly button. 
“WANDA NOT THEHEHEHERE IHIHI CAHAHANT STAHAHAND IHIHIT,” Kate screamed. She was getting their two worst spots at the same time. Once she felt they had enough, she sent some magic to all of them, tickling them on their feet and sides. They were all laughing too much to even speak. Meanwhile Natasha had moved closer to you on the couch.
“You know, we should try to get Wanda back. She’s always the most powerful one here, but why not give her a taste of her own medicine?” Natasha suggested quietly to you.
“No way! I’m not suffering through punishment again!” You hissed back quietly.
“You’d rather be in trouble with me?” Natasha said, pinching your side, making you yelp and jump away.
“That’s what I thought,” the redhead said, now explaining the plan to you.
Natasha snuck up behind Wanda while she was distracted, grabbing her from behind and pinning her arms above her head. Meanwhile you came around and quickly sat on Wanda’s waist.
“Y/N! What are you doing??” Wanda questioned, trying to break free from Natasha. 
“I’m here to get revenge,” you said simply.
“Too bad I’m not ticklish, so you’ll have to find another way,” the witch responded confidently.
“We’ll see about that,” you said, slowly tracing your fingers over her sides and stomach. You saw her jolt, as she sucked her stomach in to avoid your fingers.
“Oh what do we have here? Seems like I’m not the only liar here,” you said, now kneading into her sides and tickling her stomach with no mercy.
“Y/N STAHAHAHAP OHOO MY GOHOHOSH,” the witch cried out with laughter. The tickling was enough for her to break concentration, which released the other three from her spell holding them down. Meanwhile, Natasha was using her free hand to tickle the witch’s armpits. 
“Alright everyone, pick a spot,” Natasha said, keeping a firm grip on her wrists.
Yelena went to her feet, Kate was at her knees, and you and Peter would get her upper body, while Natasha got her armpits. 
“Everyone ready?” Yelena asked.
“NO GUYS PLEASE! DONT DO THIS!” Wanda panicked, unable to escape. 
“Who’s the tickle monster now?” You asked, as you all began to tickle her to pieces.
“NOHOHOHO AHAHAHAHAHA GUYS STAHAHAP,” Wanda shouted, overwhelmed with ticklish sensations. 
You raked your nails over her ribs, before digging in between her rib bones knowing that you had hit a sweet spot. The witch tried to kick and wiggle as much as she could, but she was outnumbered.
“Do you admit defeat?” Yelena asked, running her nails over a particularly good spot near her heel. 
“GAHAHA NEHEHEVER SCREHEHEW YOHOHOU GUHUYS,” the witch laughed, turning pink.
“Man she is stubborn,” Peter commented with a small laugh.
“Fine, then take this as revenge for all the times you tickled us. Turns out you’re even more ticklish than us!” Kate said, now tickling the back of her knees.
Natasha had let her guard down a bit, loosening her grip on Wanda’s wrists. The witch saw this opportunity and extended her arms to reach Natasha’s stomach. She wiggled her fingers, causing Natasha to yelp and let go of her wrists. With her hands free now, she immediately turned towards you and reached up to tickle you off of her. You squealed and immediately got off of her. Wanda was able to overpower the others and quickly turned the tables on Natasha, the only one who hadn’t been tickled yet. 
Within seconds, Natasha was laughing and squealing, failing to swat Wanda’s quick hands away. You joined the other three, fleeing to safety.
“You brats!” Natasha yelled out over her laughter. The four of you knew they would get revenge on you guys afterwards, so you guys took advantage of the head start. Even if tickling embarrassed you, you loved the bonding it created between you and your superhero teammates. And the one thing you always remembered was that Wanda was the ultimate tickle monster.
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logansdoll · 9 months ago
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Heyyy. Ok really cheesy but I’d like to request a Logan x reader friends to lovers where it’s like an accidental confession. Maybe someone makes fun of the reader and Logan without thinking about it just starts yelling and defending why the reader is great and everything he loves about her? Ik it’s a little OOC but maybe he gets so mad (as Wolverine does) that he gets all mushy without realizing lol. Thanks ❤️❤️
lotus
while on library duty, Logan overhears two girls talking shit about you... and corrects it quickly.
CW: sorry i went in a little different direction, suggestive, profanity, takes place during the timeline of the og X-Men, these girls are bitches, etc.
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"I just don't get what's the big deal about her," Maya scoffed, resting her cheek in her palm as she thoughtlessly flipped through her biology textbook.
Talia nodded, glancing up from her notes with an excitement that screamed nothing to do.
"No, seriously," she agreed. "Like we get it... you can grow shit. Big deal."
That piqued Logan's interest.
With Jean and Scott off on a date, the professor away, and you and Ororo teaching a joint class, he was slapped with library duty—watching the kids during their scheduled study period.
Now, originally, he planned on simply plopping himself down in a corner and puffing his cigar, hoping to fall asleep and just ride out his sentence.
And he was halfway there, too.
But just as he was about to catch some Zs, his hearing picked up on a conversation between two older girls who seemed to be trash talking his girlfriend.
"Word," Maya turned the next page, a grimace settling on her face when she noticed the image of a flower.
One you were very vocal about liking.
"She won't shut up about these stupid lotus flowers either... Hey! Did you guys know that the lotus is considered sacred in many Eastern cultures? And it often symbolizes purity, beauty, and rebirth!"
Talia let out an obnoxious snicker, the impression not nearly as funny as what she was making it to be.
But maybe she just hated you that much...
"You sound just like her," she commended, very much amused. "Only she's always smiling. Like I've never seen her frown before... it's almost creepy."
"Seriously creepy. But Peter can't get enough of it... you know he has a crush on her, right?"
"Seriously?!"
Logan let out a quiet chuckle, tickled by the news.
He'd caught the boy staring at you during a few Danger Room sessions, but didn't think much of it, assuming he'd just caught him while he happened to be looking in your direction.
Oh, how wrong he was...
He couldn't wait to tell you later tonight.
"Mhmm. Half the boys at school nearly fall over themselves to make sure they're not late to her class... It's almost funny."
"Funny, my ass. Why'd it have to be Peter?" Talia huffed, tossing her pencil at the textbook in frustration. "She's not even that pretty. I've had dogs that look better than her."
Maya attempted to muffle a snicker, but Logan heard it loud and clear, his brows furrowing at the horrible comment.
"I'm serious. She puts up this whole nice and innocent act, but I bet she's a raging bitch behind closed doors."
That was it.
All the stuff before was just normal, teenage jealousy; something he'd—albeit reluctantly—let slide.
But calling you out of your name?
Insulting your character?
Comparing you to a dog?
A line had to be drawn.
"Tali, you can't say that," Maya chuckled, glancing around to make sure no one was listening.
"Like I care," she scoffed, rolling her eyes. "I'd tell it to her face if I ever got the chance. Just walk right up to her and say—"
"Say what?"
The girls nearly jumped out their skin, whipping around, only to be met by Logan's arched brow, the man leaning up against a bookshelf as he puffed on his cigar.
They were at a loss for words, unable to say anything under his imposing presence.
"Don't get shy now," he goaded, crossing his arms over his chest. "Go on. Tell me what you're gonna say to Dr. (l/n)."
The two were practically frozen, frantically glancing at each other for assistance, Logan's eyes flicking between the two expectantly.
"Nothing?" he hummed. "That's funny... 'cause you both seemed to have plenty of shit to say earlier."
Both their faces fell almost instantly, the color practically draining from Talia.
"You heard that?" Maya squeaked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Every word," Logan nodded. "And what I managed to gather from it was that you both just can't stand her because she's kind, passionate, pretty, and beloved."
He listed each trait off on his fingers, glancing at the two for confirmation.
"How's that? Am I in the ballpark?"
They remained silent, hanging their heads in embarrassment as Logan's confrontation had garnered the attention of the whole library.
"Well, then, how's this..." he pulled the cigar out his mouth. "I'll let you both off this time with a warning... but if I catch either of you trash talkin' anybody again, teacher or student, you're grounded."
"'Til when?" Talia asked, nervously.
"'Til I tell you you're not."
The end of day bell punctuated his statement, a flourish of shutting books and closing pencil cases muffling the girls' sighs of relief.
"Now get outta here."
He had never seen two students pack up so fast.
They were gone in T-minus ten, and once the library was cleared out, Logan allowed himself to sit down, letting out his own sigh.
He could've tore into them infinitely worse—and he honestly wanted to for that dog comment—but he figured that was the right, and legal, amount for a teacher.
But even still...
'I dunno how a girl who can only float two inches off the ground is talkin' about (n/n) havin' a shitty power...'
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ahqkas · 6 months ago
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“YOU HOLD ME WITHOUT HURTING ME — jason todd.
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PAIRING! jason todd x fem!reader
SYNOPSIS! you show jason it’s okay to bleed sometimes
WORD COUNT! 3.1k
WARNINGS / TAGS! wounds, mention of blood, fluff, reader’s hair mentioned, kissing + lmk if more found
NOTES! i tried to base this on that one tasm1 scene of peter and gwen where she patched him up , header below belongs to @/v6que !
© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified
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THE SOFT HUM OF THE CITY OUTSIDE YOUR WINDOW HAD QUIETED TO A RARE WHISPER TONIGHT, a lull in Gotham’s usual chaos that felt like a blessing. Sirens, so common they were practically part of the soundtrack of your life, had faded into distant echoes, while the occasional honk of a car horn or the rush of tires on wet pavement seemed farther away than usual. It wasn’t complete silence—Gotham never truly slept—but it was as close as the city could get, a fleeting moment of stillness.
Inside, the warmth of your room cocooned you in a comforting contrast to the winter outside. The radiator hummed softly in the corner, its gentle heat mingling with the faint scent of cinnamon from the candle you’d lit earlier to help you focus. The flame flickered now, casting shadows that danced along the edges of your desk and walls, though the main light came from the golden glow of the lamp beside your bed. It bathed everything in a soft, inviting yellow light, the kind that made you want to sink deeper into your blankets and let the night carry you away.
But there was no time for that—not tonight. Your bed, usually your sanctuary, had become a battlefield. Textbooks, notebooks, flashcards, and stray pens were scattered like the aftermath of an academic storm. A bright pink highlighter sat capless somewhere near your elbow, while a pile of dog-eared textbooks loomed over you, threatening to topple if you so much as shifted the wrong way. You were surrounded on all sides by the evidence of your late-night cram session, the weight of the information you were trying to absorb pressing down on your already heavy eyelids.
The soft cotton of your oversized sweater brushed against your arms as you adjusted your position, tucking one leg beneath you and letting the other dangle off the edge of the bed. You propped your chin in your hand, squinting at the same sentence for what felt like the hundredth time. The words blurred and swam on the page, merging into an indecipherable wall of text as your brain fought against the exhaustion creeping in.
Your eyelids drooped again, the soft weight of exhaustion pulling them down as if gravity itself was conspiring against your efforts. You blinked hard, shaking your head slightly to snap yourself out of the haze creeping over your thoughts. The neat black ink on the page swam in and out of focus, words smudging together in a taunting blur. Focus, just focus. But no amount of repetition could make the phrase "mitochondria: powerhouse of the cell" feel less like a mantra from a far-off dream.
“Powerhouse,” you muttered again, your voice low and groggy, as if repeating it would anchor your wandering mind. “Powerhouse of . . . ugh.” You tossed the pen down onto the bedspread with a soft thud and buried your face in your hands, groaning into the quiet sanctuary of your room.
Your head sank forward, pressing against the cool surface of the open textbook. The faint scent of paper and ink tickled your nose as you let out a long, frustrated sigh. The night had started with so much ambition—a cup of coffee you swore would keep you awake, a meticulous plan to conquer this section of the syllabus—but now? Now, all you could think about was how soft your pillow looked, just a few inches away from your outstretched arm.
At least it was quiet tonight. Quiet enough that you could hear the rhythmic hum of your radiator and the occasional groan of the building settling. The sounds wrapped around you like a soothing melody, a rare lullaby in the city that never stopped moving. There was no blaring of police sirens, no shouting from the streets below, no low thrum of distant helicopters scanning the skies. It felt almost unnatural, this stillness, like the city was holding its breath.
But it was a welcome kind of calm. For once, there were no distractions, no sudden noises to pull your focus away from the monumental task at hand. You adjusted your position on the bed, the mattress creaking softly beneath your weight, and let yourself soak in the serenity. Just you, your books, and the glow of the lamplight. Quiet enough to think, to study, to—
A faint creak echoed outside your window, cutting through the silence like a needle dragging across a record. You froze, your hand halfway to turning the page, and lifted your head slowly, ears straining to catch any further sound. The fire escape of your apartment didn’t creak like that, but you knew the noise well. It was the sound of weight shifting against metal, deliberate and steady, and it was coming from outside.
Your pulse quickened, and you instinctively turned toward the window, where the dark glass reflected nothing but the warm glow of your room. Shadows danced faintly against the curtains, swaying with the breeze outside, but nothing seemed out of place. You frowned, brushing the thought away as paranoia. Maybe a branch had fallen or some stray cat had climbed up the fire escape again.
Jason wasn’t supposed to visit tonight. You’d both agreed on that earlier in the day, a mutual understanding that life—his, out on the snowy streets of Gotham, and yours, buried in exams and deadlines—was too demanding right now. He had patrol; you had textbooks. It was supposed to be a quiet night for both of you, separate but enduring, each fighting your battles alone.
So when you heard the soft scrape against your window, you froze, heart leaping into your throat. It wasn’t loud enough to be an accident, too deliberate to dismiss.
And there he was.
Jason stood there on your fire escape, the shadow of his imposing figure framed by the glow of your bedside lamp spilling through the curtains. Snow clung to the edges of his black and red suit, catching in the mess of his dark hair, the frosty crystals melting into droplets on his skin. His helmet was gone, his bare face illuminated in the low light, and for a fleeting second, you could almost convince yourself he looked shy, hesitant. But no—Jason Peter Todd didn’t do shy. Not really. He was here for a reason, even if it wasn’t the one he’d planned.
Your breath hitched as your gaze dipped lower. His jacket was torn along one sleeve, the fabric shredded, and beneath it, a wound marred the pale skin of his arm. Fresh blood seeped through, staining the snow-dusted fabric and dripping slowly down to the black of his gloves. The edges of the wound were jagged, raw, like it had been inflicted during a fight—one that he’d won, no doubt, but not without cost.
You were on your feet before you realized you’d moved, the fortress of textbooks and notes forgotten in an instant. “Jason,” you whispered, his name barely audible over the rush of your pulse. He wasn’t supposed to be here tonight, wasn’t supposed to need you like this, but here he was, leaning against the window frame as though standing upright was an effort.
Your fingers hovered near the lock on the window, hesitating for only a moment before you slid it open. The cold night air rushed in, biting against your skin and making you shiver, but Jason barely seemed to notice. He stepped inside with a deliberate slowness, his broad shoulders slumping slightly as he moved past you and into the warm glow of your room. His boots left faint, wet prints on the floor, the snow melting quickly in the heat.
“You’re bleeding,” you said, the words tumbling out instinctively, your voice tinged with worry. It felt stupid to say—it was obvious, painfully so—but seeing him like this had your mind scrambling to keep up. “You weren’t supposed to—what happened?”
He didn’t answer immediately. His lips quirked into a faint, almost sheepish smirk as he glanced down at the wound on his arm, as though it wasn’t worth mentioning. “It’s nothing,” he muttered, brushing it off in that gruff, nonchalant way of his. But the way his hand pressed against the injury, as though to stem the bleeding, told you otherwise.
You crossed your arms over your chest, fixing him with a look that you hoped conveyed both your concern and your impatience for the truth. Because nothing didn’t leave his suit ripped to shreds and blood dripping onto your floor.
“Jason, sit down,” exclaiming, your voice was firmer than you thought it would be. Worry surged through you as you closed the window behind him, sealing out the chill. The warmth of your room clashed against the icy snow clinging to his battered suit, the droplets melting and dripping onto the floor. You barely noticed. All you could see was the wound on his arm and the way his jaw tightened like he was trying to pretend it didn’t hurt.
“I told you, it’s fine,” he muttered, brushing past you with a tired shrug, his usual swagger diminished by the faint limp in his step. He leaned against the edge of your desk, scattering a couple of your neatly stacked flashcards with the motion. His gaze flicked to you then, softening just slightly, like he knew exactly what you were about to say and was already bracing himself for it.
“It’s not fine.” You stepped closer, reaching for his arm. He tried to pull it back, but you were quicker, your fingers ghosting over the torn fabric and the angry gash beneath. His muscles tensed at your touch, but he didn’t stop you. Not completely. “You’re bleeding all over my floor. At least let me—”
“Later,” he interrupted, his voice low and firm, but soft for you. “I’ll deal with it later. It’s just a scratch.”
Your eyes narrowed at his deflection. “Jason—”
“[Name],” he countered, your name falling from his lips like a warning and a plea all at once. He reached for you then, his uninjured hand brushing against your wrist and tugging you closer with gentleness that contrasted starkly with the blood dripping from his other arm.
The shift was dizzying, pulling you from worry to something softer and harder to resist. You opened your mouth to protest, but before you could get the words out, he leaned down, his forehead resting against yours. His breath was warm against your cheek, and the sharp edges of his usual bravado softened in the intimacy of the moment. “I didn’t come here so you could play nurse,” he murmured. “I just . . . needed to see you.”
Your heart clenched at the quiet honesty in his voice, but you refused to let him distract you so easily. “You needed stitches,” you shot back, trying to keep your resolve, though the way his thumb traced slow circles against your hip wasn’t helping. “Jason, you can’t just—”
Whatever you were about to say was lost as he kissed you. His lips captured yours with a sudden intensity that left no room for argument, silencing every worry you’d been about to voice. His fingers trailed from your neck up, landing on your cheek with a gentle caress, anchoring you to him, and for a moment, all you could do was melt into his touch. You felt his tension ease slightly, the weight of whatever he’d been carrying fading just enough as he pressed closer, as if kissing you was the only medicine he needed.
When he finally pulled back, his forehead still resting against yours, you opened your eyes to find his staring back, dark and unreadable but softened by something raw and unguarded. “See?” he whispered, his voice low and rough. “I’m fine.”
You sighed, shaking your head, your hands instinctively resting on his chest. “You’re impossible,” you muttered, though your voice lacked any real bite.
“Yeah, but you love me anyway,” Jason teased, that cocky grin returning even as the blood continued to drip from his arm.
You groaned, pushing lightly against his chest. “Fine. But I swear, if you pass out on my floor because you were too stubborn to let me help, I’m drawing on your face while you’re out.”
His laughter was quiet but genuine, and for a moment, the tension in the room seemed to dissipate. You didn’t give him the chance to argue this time. Grabbing the first-aid kit from your bedside table, you set it down on the desk beside him with a decisive clatter. Jason raised an eyebrow at your determination, the faint smirk still tugging at the corners of his mouth, but you were too focused to care.
“Jacket off,” you mumbled, your tone leaving no room for debate.
He sighed, tilting his head back slightly like he was preparing for a lecture, but he complied without protest. With a grunt, he shrugged off the battered leather jacket, hissing slightly as the movement pulled at the torn edges of his suit. You caught the flash of discomfort in his expression, but he said nothing, tossing the bloodied jacket onto your chair.
“And the top half,” you added, gesturing toward the suit. Your voice was softer this time, less demanding but no less insistent. His hands hesitated briefly at the hem of the torn fabric before he pulled it up and over his head, revealing the pale, scarred skin of his chest and shoulders. The gash on his arm looked even worse without the fabric covering it, the torn skin deep and angry. Blood smeared across his bicep and dripped onto the floor, and you had to swallow the lump in your throat at the sight.
Jason glanced at you, the teasing light in his eyes dimmed now, replaced with something quieter, more vulnerable. “It’s really not that bad.”
“Jason, it’s bad,” you countered, shaking your head as you grabbed a clean cloth and antiseptic from the kit. He didn’t argue this time, watching you silently as you tended to his wound. The warmth of his skin under your fingers was a reminder of how human he was—how breakable, despite the armor he wrapped himself in every night.
The first dab of antiseptic against the wound made him flinch, a soft hiss escaping through his teeth. “Sorry,” you murmured, glancing up at him.
He shook his head. “Don’t be. Just do what you need to do.”
And so you did. Your hands moved with careful precision as you cleaned the wound, biting your lip in concentration. Jason stayed still, his muscles tensing under your touch but his expression relaxed—at least outwardly. You knew him well enough to see the subtle shifts, the way his eyes darted occasionally toward your face, as if he were studying you just as much as you were tending to him.
“Why didn’t you do this yourself?” you asked softly, breaking the silence. “You have supplies at your place. You didn’t have to come here like this.”
He was quiet for a moment, the question lingering between you like smoke. Then, finally, he sighed, his voice low and rough. “Didn’t want to be alone tonight.”
The simplicity of his words made you pause, your hands stilling briefly before resuming their work. You didn’t press him further; you didn’t need to. Jason never came out and said it, but moments like this told you everything you needed to know. Beneath the sharp wit, there was a part of him that needed the quiet comfort of your presence, even if he didn’t know how to ask for it outright.
“Well,” you said gently, wrapping a bandage around his arm with practiced care, “you’re not alone now.”
His gaze softened, green eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch. He reached out with his uninjured hand, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear, the touch lingering longer than it needed to. “Thanks,” he whispered, the word heavy with meaning.
You smiled faintly, finishing the bandage and tying it off securely. “There,” you said, leaning back to admire your work. “Good as new. Or, at least, good enough to stop bleeding all over my room.”
Jason chuckled, the sound low and warm, and you felt the tension in your chest ease slightly. “You’re wasted on studying,” he teased and with that, his smirk returned. “You could make a pretty decent field medic.”
Rolling your eyes at him, you packed up the first-aid kit neatly. “Yeah, well, let’s not test that theory any further tonight, okay?”
As you turned to put the bloodied gauze and scattered supplies away, Jason’s hand wrapped gently around your wrist, stopping you mid-step. His grip wasn’t firm, but it was enough to tug you back toward him, enough to make your heart lurch at the vulnerability written across his face. You froze for a moment, your eyes meeting his. The usual sharpness in his gaze was softened now, dulled by exhaustion, pain, and something quieter—something unguarded. His bravado, the cocky smirk and dismissive sarcasm that so often served as his shield, was gone. He looked at you like he was searching for something, something only you could give.
“I mean it,” he said, his voice low, almost a whisper, but steady enough to hit you square in the chest. “Thanks. For . . . this. For being here.”
The words felt heavy, like they carried more weight than just tonight. They weren’t just gratitude for the bandages or the antiseptic or the quiet space you’d made for him in your small room. It was more than that. It was for the safety, the warmth, the acceptance you gave him so freely, no matter how broken or battered he was when he came through your window.
Your breath caught, and for a moment, you just looked at him, your throat tightening at the raw honesty in his eyes. “Jay,” you murmured, your voice trembling slightly. You didn’t know what to say—didn’t know how to put into words how much it meant to you that he was here, that he trusted you enough to let his walls down like this.
Instead, you slid your hand over his, the one still wrapped around your wrist, and gave it a gentle squeeze. You leaned down slowly, your fingers brushing against the edge of his jaw as you pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. His skin was warm beneath your lips, and you lingered there for a second longer than you meant to, closing your eyes as a quiet promise settled in the space between you.
“Always,” you whispered, your voice barely audible but filled with every ounce of certainty you had.
When you pulled back, his eyes followed you, still searching, still vulnerable. His hand shifted slightly, his thumb brushing lightly against your pulse point like he was grounding himself in the feel of you. For a man who was usually so composed, so quick to hide behind sarcasm, he looked achingly human in that moment—like he wasn’t Red Hood, wasn’t Gotham’s vengeance, but just a man who needed someone to remind him it was okay to bleed sometimes.
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ADDITIONAL NOTE! if you like my work , please consider reblogging and / or commenting . thank you if you do 🤍
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fangswbenefits · 2 years ago
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Obsession
Summary: Miguel tries to convince himself that his obsession with you was justified, but fails miserably as you spend the night over.
Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader
18+. Miguel POV. Obsessed and jealous Miguel. Inexperienced reader. Breeding kink. Sexual tension and frustration. Reader has nipple piercings.
Previous parts: 1 & 2 (you may enjoy this one separately, but might miss out on some context)
Miguel tried to convince himself that adding a mic to your digital suit was purely for safety purposes.
He really did try.
But he couldn’t keep from listening in when you first wore it on your way to the spider cafeteria.
He had just briefed a squad and was monitoring Nueva York through a multitude of hovering screens, as he stood on his platform.
Tapping quickly on the flickering surface, he was able to zoom in on you through the ceiling cameras.
You looked absolutely breathtaking.
The suit fit you like a glove and left little to the imagination. He was proud of his work. You deserved wearing something of his for everyone to see.
He saw you approaching a nearby table, taking a seat. In front of you were Jessica Drew and Peter B. Parker with Mayday who greeted you with warm smiles.
The sound of your voice echoed through the walls around him, as you extended your arms.
“Mayday! Baby! It’s so good to see you!”
The little girl broke into a giggle and began wriggling forward on Peter’s lap to reach you.
You promptly took her in your arms. “Did you miss me? Did you?” your voice was slight high-pitched and you wiggled your fingers, tickling her. “Oh, I have a present for her.”
“Really? That’s so nice of you,” Peter beamed.
“I don’t have it here, but I think she’ll love it,” you said, patting Mayday’s back lightly, earning a genuine hug from her.
Miguel felt his heart clench violently.
You were a natural with kids.
You were just too good to be true and he felt his hands clench tightly.
Would he ever be able to have you? To make you yearn for him? To breed you? To have children with you?
“Wait, is that a… digital suit?” Jessica’s voice cracked through the mic.
You had your back turned to him, so he couldn’t see your face, but he felt the warmth in your voice as you spoke, “It sure is!”
He groaned lowly.
There you were… his sweet girl.
“Who gave it to you?”
“Miguel,” you said with that tenderness he had grown to adore.
He could easily get addicted to you saying his name, and he could only hope that, one day, he might hear it a much more compelling setting.
“Miguel… O’Hara?”
You nodded.
From the screen he could see her exchanging looks with Peter.
“It looks really cool!” Peter smiled enthusiastically, inspecting your sleeves. “Wish he’d offer me one, too.”
Jessica chuckled. “Well, I’ve been here with him for months and he’s never given me one.”
Jessica…
It was to be expected. She was no fool. He had scouted her precisely because she was anything but that.
You had been recruited only three weeks ago, but the hold you had on him was tight. He had never felt this way before with someone else.
You straightened in your seat, as Mayday nibbled on your thumb. “Wait… do you think I should give it back?”
Miguel felt his heart jumpstart and panic build inside him.
“No — no! Jessica,” Perer shot her a glare who merely shrugged, before offering you a kind smile. “It looks great on you. Did you pick the colours?”
“Yes! I’m really happy with the final result,” you said, helping Mayday sit at the edge of the table, as you secured her with both hands. “It was his way of showing gratitute.”
Jessica snapped her fingers after taking a sip of her drink. “You’re helping him out with the portals, right?”
“We’re working on portal stabilisation and reduced motion sickness,” you said and he could almost taste the pride and passion in your voice. “We’re making some progress.”
Miguel had gotten used to the random erections you’d awake from him throughout the day. But this one felt particularly painful.
You were so smart and so devoted. He couldn’t even take credit for the progress, because it was mostly just you.
His sweet and clever girl.
He glanced down at the outline of his strained cock, clicking his tongue.
By the time his eyes settled on the monitor, Jessica had walked away momentarily and he saw Peter lean in.
“Hey… are you and Miguel… a thing?”
Miguel froze.
Mayday proceeded to wrap tiny fingers around some of his locks, tugging lightly.
He wish he could have seen your reaction.
“Oh! No! No… we’re just friends,” you quickly said, waving your hands rapidly. “He’s like a mentor to me, really.”
Anger flared inside him. A friend? A mentor? He knew deep down this made absolute sense, but it still made him seething with rage.
Peter didn’t seem all that convinced, but nodded. “Just wondering. He’s not usually this… kind?”
Miguel felt his fangs threaten to emerge as he gritted his teeth.
There had been nothing kind about him building you a suit. He hadn’t done it out of the goodness of his heart.
He wanted to claim you and this had been the easiest and safest way for now.
“Well, I know he’s a grumpy,” you chuckled with a shrug, as you patted Mayday on the back. “Maybe he’s changing?”
You wouldn’t want him to change. Not really. The level of devotion he had for you was unmatched and nothing you could ever have from someone else.
“Maybe you’re a good influence on him?” Peter concluded, tapping his chin. “As a friend, of course.”
“Peter….” he growled lowly.
“As a friend,” you nodded. “Besides, there’s…” but your voice trailed off.
His erection nearly immediately deflated as dread took over.
There’s what?
He turned up the mic’s volume, but winced instead, as you banged on the table.
You cleared your throat. “Well, gotta go! I have work to do.”
Peter took Mayday back into his lap and chuckled. “Don’t forget her present!”
“I won’t! Wish me luck, though,” you said, crossing your fingers as you started to walk away. “I really need these chips to stop blowing and melting on me!”
“Good luck! Say bye bye, Mayday,” Peter waved his hand, which the little girl promptly mimicked with a giggle.
“Bye, baby!” you beamed.
Miguel had had enough.
He switched off your mic with a tap on his watch.
He really had tried to convince himself that his obsession for you was justified. That is was rooted in more than lust and desire, but he wasn’t so sure anymore.
After you moved to Nueva York, he had you working closely to him on portal stabilisation.
But what had started out as something innocent, soon shifted into something else entirely.
Your company brought him peace and quiet, and ticket his brain just the right way to keep him motivated.
Until it didn’t.
Until you became his torment.
He had let you in his life in the hopes that you let him in yours.
The first time you gave him a boner was when he walked in on you in the lab, wearing nothing but a tank top and a pencil pressed firmly in between your lips, as you moved from screen to screen to check on the update progress.
The worst part? You didn’t even notice how utterly delicious you looked and how he could easily bend you over and take you right there.
No.
You just offered him a sweet smile.
One he hadn’t recovered from ever since.
“Miguel?”
He jolted as the voice snapped him from his torturous thoughts. “What?”
Lyla hovered nearby, eyeing him closely. “Fangs out,” she wiggled her index finger disapprovingly. “Pavitr and Hobie are waiting for you.”
His fangs retracted slowly as he tried to gain his composure back. “Why?”
“Mission?” she quirked an eyebrow.
Right.
“Now?”
“You’re already late.”
He growled, tapping on a few screens hurriedly.
“Oh, and Miguel?”
“What?”
The hologram popped near the screen to his left. “You might want to be more subtle when using her in-suit mic.”
He gave her narrow side-glace. “What do you mean?”
“Just saying,” she said, adjusting her heart-shapped glasses. “You’re not the only tech savvy spider here.”
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The door to his apartment swung open at once, and he stepped inside ready to decompress from the tiresome mission.
He had made plans with some of your audio recordings and his hand, hoping that would be enough to easy the pent-up tension that had been looming over year throughout the way.
It was a less than ideal situation, but would have to do for now.
That was until he noticed his living room was lit.
Pacing rapidly he was met with you.
In the middle of a pile of papers and electronic components scattered around the floor, he saw you sitting cross-legged with a pencil danging from your lips, his digital suit clinging tightly to your body.
“What are you doing here?”
Your bead snapped in his direction and the pencil tumbled to the floor. “Miguel! Lyla let me in.”
He was rooted in place.
Had it been someone else, he would have flung them through the window with no warning.
But you weren’t just someone.
And Lyla wouldn’t have let someone else enter his apartment, either.
“It’s quite late,” he said, pacing carefully toward you as not to step on anything. “You could have called me.”
You waved a hand dismissively and held a circular metallic object in the other. “Catch!”
Before he could say anything back, you had tossed it in his direction, which he quickly grabbed in between his fingers.
“Found what was wrong with it,” you smiled proudly. “It was stupid of me, really. There wasn’t any thermal paste in it. That’s why it kept blowing up.”
Miguel stared at the chip in his hand and blinked a few times.
“I assumed you were using it from the start,” he said, inspecting the cross section.
You rose to your feet in an instant and joined his site, excitement spilling from you. “These ion batteries should not require thermal paste — not for this amount of energy, at least. But yeah… my bad,” you said, rubbing the back of your neck.
Miguel locked eyes with yours and felt a familiar tingle in his body.
Fuck.
You were just so ridiculously attractive, and he wish he could hear you ramble about tech and science for hours.
“This is really, really good news,” he said genuinely, handing the chip back to you.
He squeezed your arm lightly as encouragement, knowing fully well he should be rewarding you in other ways.
His sweet girl…
You darted back to the floor, gathering some papers. “Sorry for the mess. I just had to figure this out and couldn’t sleep.”
A scientist at heart, you were.
Blood began to rush to his groin in no time. It couldn’t be helped. His body had been so on edge to finally fuck you, that it was in this permanent state of arousal around you.
“It’s fine. I still have those moments,” he said softly, crouching to help you out. “Sometimes I can’t sleep, and I have to do something else.”
“Like what?”
“I either go to the lab, or…” I jerk off to the thought of being buried deep inside you, he wanted to say.
You eyed him expectantly, biting your lip lightly, further hardening his cock.
“Well, it’s a bit late,” Miguel eventually said, standing tall. “Maybe you should get back to your apartment?”
He hated himself for even suggesting such option, but he didn’t want to push his luck. You being here would be fuel enough for the rest of the night as he fucked his hand.
“Oh, you just got back from a mission,” you fought back a yawn, tossing your backpack over your shoulder. “I’ll just leave.”
Miguel nodded, but was crumbling inside.
Your face lit up again. “But this was great, right?”
Please stay.
“You did great,” he said with a short smile. “Go get some rest.”
Please…
You made your way down the hall and waved at him. “See you in the morning, Miguel.”
He should have let you go.
But something took over him, before he could fight it back.
“Actually, you could stay. It’s nearly four in the morning,” he tried to sound as casual as possible, but the excitement was hard to contain. “And we have to head back to the lab early.”
You turned around and he stopped breathing.
Too much?
Then he the backpack slide down your arm, hittingbthe floor with a thud. “Oh, thank you! I really didn’t feel like swinging back to my apartment,” you voice held pure gratitude and he felt his ego soar. “Only… I don’t have any clothes.”
He shook his head as realisation hit him. “Right. Wait here.”
“Okay~”
Bolting into his room, he went through his closet, fetching a shirt and a robe.
But before heading out, he decided to change into some sweatpants and a shirt himself.
His erection welcomed the looser material, and he’d be able to better conceal it from you.
Taking a final look at his cock, Miguel decided to give it a few pumps as if trying to calm it down.
He couldn’t believe his luck.
He couldn’t believe his sweet girl would be so close to him in his clothes and apartment.
And bed.
As he exited the room and handed the clothes to you, he cleared his throat. “You can take my bed.”
You looked up at him. “Oh… no, Miguel. You just came back from a mission.”
“I’m not that tired. Just take it.”
Please.
“Are you sure?”
“One hundred percent.”
Anything that was his was yours. He would give it all to you.
“Be right back,” you said, before disappearing into the bathroom, closing the door behind you.
He immediately sighed in relief, adjusting his cock, feeling the first beads of precum spill from the tip.
How was he to survive this?
Not long after, you emerged again.
He glanced over at the length of you, taking in the sight of his shirt and robe on you. Your legs were still covered with the digital suit, but you looked absolutely ready to be devoured.
But he couldn’t do it.
Not yet.
His cock twitched in his pants, yearning to be inside you.
Then something else caught his attention when his moved up your body.
It couldn’t be…
Two symmetrical protuberances poked through the fabric of your shirt — his shirt.
“Are those…” his voice faltered momentarily, not trusting his own eyes.
You followd his line of sight and giggled. “Oh! Yeah. Got them pierced way back. Wanted to defy my dad and got them out of spite,” you went on, adjusting the fabric of the shirt under the robe. “But eventually kept them. They look cute.”
Cute?
Miguel was at a loss for words.
Your voice mixed with your carefree posture sent jolts directly into his cock.
“I…” he swallowed the lump in his throat. “I didn’t notice them before,” he said, feeling his mouth run dry.
“I was wearing a bra,” you replied with a shrug and a tender smile.
This was almost comically painful.
You were the closest thing he had ever known to innocence as of late. Yet here you stood, wearing just his shirt, no bra, and with your pierced nipples poking through his shirt.
But none of that seemed to matter to you.
You were completely oblivious of how painfully hard he was for you.
“Did it hurt?”
“Terribly,” you said, still glacing down at your breasts and hardened nipples. “But I think it’s worth it.”
The adorable way in which you said it was almost driving him insane.
Just how innocent could one person be…
Before he could even process his thoughts, he spoke, “Can I…”
Your eyes met his and Miguel feared he had now fucked it up for good.
Brilliant, Miguel…
“Oh, you mean… you want to see them?”
Should he back down and just deny his intentions?
“You’ve never seen nipple piercings before?”
He shook his head.
Just as he was about to tell you to forget it, you lifted his shirt, revealing your breasts to him.
He nearly exploded right there and then.
“Oh, please!” she giggled. “We’re people of science, and you haven’t seen this before. Science is all about curiosity and discovery.”
Miguel, however, wasn’t listening to any of that and felt as though he was hypnotised. He could tear his eyes away from your perky nipples and the metal rods that went through them, a tiny spider danging from each of them.
He wasn’t sure when or how he had got so close to you, but he lifted his hand to touch one.
His cock twitched violently and he felt his mind hazy with lust.
“They’re cool, right?” you beamed, allowing him to swipe the pad of his thumb across the tiny spider.
“Yeah.”
Really ‘cool’.
More precum dripped from his tip and had to fight back his fangs from slipping out.
He wanted to bend over and dart his tongue out to play with them. He wanted to tug on them and wanted you to arch your back with a soft moan.
You pulled down the shirt again and he flinched his hand back instantly, swallowing hard.
“So… if — when you have a baby and want to breastfeed… will there be an issue?”
Of course his need to breed you had to surface at the worst possible time.
But he had to know. He needed to know if that would be a nuisance. He couldn’t take any risks and he wanted you completely ready to carry his children.
You shrugged, adjusting the robe around you. “I wasn’t thinking that far ahead when I got them, but I suppose I just have to take them out.”
He nodded, taking a few steps back.
You stretched out with a yawn. “Mind if I go to sleep now?”
“Of course,” he nodded.
You were about to whirl on your feet, but decided against it. “How do you say ‘thank you’ in Spanish?”
That caught him off guard and his eyes widened. “Gracias.”
Then you gave him the sweetest smile. “Gracias, Miguel.
He could cum just from this alone.
How he would teach you the filthiest things in Spanish… how he would whisper them in your ear, knowing fully well you couldn’t understand a word…
You then slipped into his room and closed the door.
He ran both hands through his hair, wanting to let out a scream.
The things he wanted to do to you…
The things you deserved done to you…
He brought one hand down to tug at his waistband, revealing his soaked cock.
Then he bit the back of his other hand.
Hard.
He didn’t even care if he drew blood.
He couldn’t take this anymore.
Engulfed with overwhelming frustration, he pressed his forehead against the tall window that overlooked Nueva York.
He had to calm down, or else he’d have to synthesise a serum to lower his levels of testosterone…
He had to find a way to stop.
As minutes ticked by, he decided to check your bio readings on his watch. Your heart rate had lowered significantly, indicating him you were now asleep.
The predator in him took control again and he paced towards his bedroom, opening the door just enough to check on you.
Fast asleep.
He walked in with careful steps, finally taking in the sight of you on his bed.
The floor-to-ceiling windows allowed for the faintest moonlight to be cast on you.
He felt his heart was about to implode as he drew near, slowly sitting by the edge of the mattress.
You lay on your back, breathing evenly and covered up to your waist with a blanket.
Miguel took a deep and shaky breath.
You smelled of him and his bedsheets smelled of you.
Such a powerful and dangerous combination, that he almost considered gripping his cock.
Bur decided against it.
Instead, he say there, staring at you, absorbing every single detail of your body.
His hand twitched as an itch took over it.
An itch he had to scratch.
He reached out to graze the back of one finger along your forearm, feeling your warmth coating his skin.
His sweet girl…
His imagination ran wild and he had hoped he could have fucked you to sleep, not sliding out of you, making sure you’d take his seed.
Pain swallowed him whole as despair settled.
What if he never managed to make you his?
What if you decided you wanted nothing more than a friendship?
How could he cope?
Suddenly, you flinched and rolled to your side and heaved a deep sigh. “Oh, Tom…”
Miguel was left petrified and his blood ran cold.
Who the fuck was Tom?
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Part 4
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Masterlist
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ptergwen · 4 months ago
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can you do a fic where one of the peters (garfield or holland) is making out with the reader and starts to kiss and bite her neck and the little sounds she makes drives him insane
three strikes
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w/c: 655
warnings: making out, suggestiveness
a/n: i went with tasm!peter hehe, def a fluffier approach to it but so so adorable & i hope you enjoy! keep the reqs coming y'all <3
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winter in the city is magical. everything in the park is covered in a light dusting of snow, all the stone pathways and the trees, couples hand in hand and kids playing. then, there's peter. he's looking up at the sky with his tongue stuck out. he's so focused on trying to catch snowflakes that he doesn't notice you digging your hands into the snow, collecting a handful.
something hits peter's chest; a snowball. he looks across the way, where you're smiling mischievously. he brushes the snow off his jacket, chuckling. you're already making another snowball.
"i dunno, babe. i wouldn't do that if i were you."
despite peter's warning, you aim your arm to throw.
"you're playing with fire, you know that?"
"no, i’m playing with snow."
"oh, that's cute. really cute."
you promptly hit peter with the snowball. he raises a challenging eyebrow, and you know you're in for it. you start to run away, giggling, peter chasing after you. he's quick to catch up. he grabs your waist and pins you against a streetlight, breathing out smoke into the cold air through laughter.
"you wanna try that again?"
peter's gaze darts between your eyes and lips. you bite back a grin.
"kind of."
"what a shame. it'd be strike three."
"what happens after strike three?"
"you wouldn't get this."
peter leans in and kisses you. you loop your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. he hums in content, hands squeezing your waist and lips trailing over to your cheek. he pecks both your cheeks, your nose, just above your lips, peppering kisses all over your face until you're giggling and trying to push him away.
"no, no, no, stop! that tickles!"
peter kisses down your chin and back up, across your forehead, over to your temple. you grin despite yourself, tugging at his locks that are damp with snow.
"i’m serious, pete! stop it!"
"no can do, babe. can't help myself, you're just too damn cute."
peter pecks your cheek a few times, earning a noise of protest.
"so cute i could eat you up."
"nuh uh."
you pull the zipper of your jacket all the way up so it's covering the lower half of your face.
"yeah huh."
peter leaves big, lingering kisses on your forehead, each one punctuated with a mwah. when you realize he's not going to let up, you finally concede. you uncover your face and capture his lips with yours, the only way to make him stop. your nose nudges his, head tilting to look at him.
"are you done?"
"not even close."
peter kisses you again. you kiss him back, smiling into it. he moves your jacket out of the way and continues his kiss attack, this time on your neck. you let him have his fun, enjoying the feeling of his lips on your skin. you squeal when he finds one particular spot and nips at it.
"pete! what're you doing?"
"i told you, eating you up."
he playfully bites at your neck between a series of kisses, arms locked around your waist, drawing the most adorable sounds out of you that he can't get enough of. you thread your fingers through his hair.
"don't forget we're in public, mister."
your tone doesn't match your words, unconvincing, and you're resting your head on the lamp pole so peter has more access. he smirks.
"i know, they're just love bites."
he starts to suck at your neck. the pressure is light, but enough to leave a hickey. you play with his fluffy hair, letting out a noise between a sigh and a moan. you feel the vibrations from peter laughing. you feel something poking at your thigh, too.
"and you're telling me we're in public? whew, i think we'd better get you home."
"you'd like that, wouldn't you?"
peter answers by holding you in place and kissing down your neck, making you breathless from laughter.
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