#the mood for the rest of the year is just loving spidey and THAT IS IT

[futureplayboibunnie]

Aphrodesiacs Pt. 9

Miguel O’Hara x fem!spidey reader 

You and Miguel O’Hara were bitten by the same spider…what could possibly happen?

horny and angsty? yes pls.

NSFW. 18+.

Miguel wasn't lying

He didn't let you leave your apartment for the entire weekend.

You definitely weren't complaining but he wore you out tirelessly for hours on end. He fucked you on every surface, christening each space for his own personal fulfiliment. He bent you over, pressed your knees together, threw you to the floor, sank to his knees- he did everything.

"Tell me you're mine. Scream it for me.”

“Always. I always have been.”

The way you said that stuck with Miguel a lot longer than he was expecting or comfortable with, it rolled off of your sweet tongue with an unbridled ease, like you were meant to say it.

“I always have been.” Miguel frowned as his brain placed further emphasis on what you said.

It started on Friday night and now it's Sunday night, he was half expecting you to kick him out but he was still here...lying in bed with you after an entire weekend of fucking each other senseless. It was the most soul-replenishing and fulfilling weekend he'd ever had. The night was starless, grey, and bleak clouds hung over the sky as if to reflect his mood, straying by the second, the rain flooded and pounded against the curtainless window and his senses. As he glanced over your frame, he saw the New York city skyline bean up yellow and red lights. The rumbling of thunder and the flashes of lightning stopped his thoughts in their tracks as he felt the soft inhale of your breath. Your naked body pressed into the mattress, the white sheets covering you in slivers.

Even when you were sleeping you looked so effortlessly beautiful. Miguel glanced at the alarm clock on your bedside table, it was 2 AM. It was Monday tomorrow. That's when reality set in. His work, the pressure of his job, to control that many people and make sure the multiverse was safe. Miguel frowned at the thought. He wanted to spend the rest of his nights here with you, lying in bed with you and watching you breathe. But he loves being Spiderman, he was attached to what he had to do even if he didn't like it, he was so conditioned to doing his job he never once considered what a normal life could be like after what Gabriella- then you came along, destroying any semblance of peace he had left. You mumbled something unintelligible as you sprawled out even further. Your slender hands slid under the pillow, he kept staring at you like a lovesick fool, filled to the brim with anxiety and desperation as he quietly brooded. He felt like you caught him when he saw your eyelashes flutter. A lazy smile played on your lips. You definitely caught him.

“Go to sleep.” You muttered like you were scolding a small child, opening your eyes fully to see Miguel solemn and brooding.

“Can't.” He clipped, raking a hand through his already messy hair. Your mood changed exactly as he did, you flashed him a concerned look. Miguel always found a way to sabotage himself, to find the bad in every spot he was in and you were tired of it. You leaned down on your elbows, pursing your lips in confusion.

“Talk to me.” You say gently but all Miguel could hear was a sensual deity whispering sweet nothing.

Miguel was conflicted, a surge of sadness washed over and tightened his chest but he was very determined not to show it, his eyebrows creased in determination. Trying hard to keep the front he's manufactured over the course of many brutal and unforgiving years, being cold and distant was the only thing he knew to be even if it was you that was trying to pry it out of him. He couldn't just change overnight, not for you, not for anyone but part of him wanted to be better, to be better for you. Miguel's jaw ticked as he mumbled, attempting to conceal the fact that he wasn't particularly in a talkative mood- but you were nothing but persistent.

“Please?” Your hand went to reach out and lay on his chest but he stopped you before you could even touch him, he gripped your wrist and stared at you, his demeanor drastically changing. His grip was tightening and your eyes widened slightly, confused and concerned.

“Don't.” He said softly but stern enough that you got the message, his eyes were gleaming with a faint hue of red. You cocked an eyebrow at his behavior, after an unforgettable weekend, he was acting like you were a stranger- like all your use to him was sex, He was going to treat you like crap when you got to your normal life again. You frowned at the thought as you snatched your wrist back.

“What happens now?” You whisper woefully, a sad look ashening your beautiful face- the moonlight kissed your features perfectly.

"We go back to strangers, hating each other?” You say bitterly.

“What? No.” He shot you a look mixed with confusion and anger as if what you said was stupid.

“So we don't hate each other anymore, we fucked and we're gonna go back to work and act like nothing happened?”

“'I just- I don't know.” His answer didn't dampen your straying frustration at him, you pursed your lips in anger. mere idea.

“This was a one-time thing? So I'm just gonna go back to fucking other guys?” You raised an eyebrow at him, slightly peeved at the idea.

Miguel was internally devastated that you even thought to mention that, his body stilled with rage at the image of someone else touching you the way he did. It was as if his heart was being strangled by your bare aching fists. He wanted to grab you, flip you over and fuck you until his hips fracture but instead, he stayed brooding in silence, a storm brewing in his head.

Miguel's hand shot out and grabbed your cheeks, squishing them together as his talons dug into your skin slightly, you gave him an unimpressed look as he pulled your body closer to his. “No.” He said harshly, completely dismissing the idea of you going out and hooking up with other people like he had that sort of power over you. “Absolutely not.” Although you were pissed at him right now, your body was feeling entirely different, your pussy throbbed. You adjusted yourself, trying to stifle your arousal but it got ten times worse when your nipples brushed and hardened at the slightest contact of the mattress. Miguel was psychoanalyzing your every move, his gaze didn't soften at all, He liked that you were still in heat, even more so when you were trying to suppress it. You were confused when you saw him get up from the bed and then sit at the foot of it, his back facing you, looking more and more pissed with every passing moment.

"Come here.” he turned his head a fraction, enough for you to see slivers of red in his eye.

"Are you kidding?” You scoffed.

“Do I look like I'm asking?” His voice was mean and cold, a ruthless sharp vibration in your ears. Your body ached at the sound of his voice alone.

You were still bitter as you crossed your arms defensively. You rolled your eyes at him and decided to give into his unexplained whims, you got out of the bed with a huff and walked around it, Your naked body gleamed in the moonlight as you stood in front of him, Miguel's eyes were steely and din, unamused by your constant disrespect, asking the questions he didn't want to think about let alone answer, He hated that you brought up the idea of fucking other people and he hated the way he felt about it. This weekend was pleasure and pain combined- he made you feel euphoric, keeping you at that edge and then pummelling you. It was pain but it was perfect pain. Now you were pissing him off and he wasn't in the mood to be delicate and easy. He wouldn't give you the courtesy of telling you what he was going to do to you, he just wanted to do it.

You bit your lip as you stared down at him, he looked up at you like you were a dirty little whore acting unattainable- how ironic.

Miguel's palms traced over the dip of your waist softly and you pursed your lips slightly, acting unbothered. He hated it. we wanted to shock you, his right hand spanked your ass harshly, the sound ripped through the air and you gasped. You were his helpless little whore. Instead of talking about his feelings, he was gonna fuck it out of himself instead.

“Turn around and sit on my lap.” He demanded coldly, the look in his eyes was one of silent fury, His face sere slashes of rough arousal and boiling anger, Your eyes went from half-lidded annoyance to a bewildered shock, he liked it. you unhinged your jaw to say a smartass remark but he raised his eyebrow and that subdued you immediately, you turned your back to him and sat on his lap.

Your back facing his front, your ass nudging his already hard cock. Before you could even properly adjust, he hooked his hands under your thighs and pulled them up, your legs dangling off of his arms. a breathy moan escaped from your throat and Miguel's lips were pressed against your ear.

“I'm going to fuck you like this and you're gonna shut up and not bitch to me, understand cariño?” His hot breath landed on your ear, goosebumps rising at the shell of it. You hung your head back and it landed on his broad shoulder, moaning already.

“Yes, I understand.” You breathed softly. Miguel lowered your down on his cock, plunging into you and stretching you out until the his fangs licked and bit at your shoulder blade. “Ah- M-Mig-“ He pummelled into you roughly, bouncing you up and down as his fangs bit your shoulder blade.

“Run that fuckin mouth again, mention any other guy you fucked and I'll bully your cunt until you're fuckin sobbing, get the picture?” He groans raggedly, biting into your shoulder, specks of blood seeping out of your skin as he bounces you up and down.

“O-Okay! I get it...” You stuttered out, moaning like a bitch in heat as he plowed into you even harder, your slick running down your thighs. Your hands flew back and tangled in Miguel's hair, pulling hard and rubbing his neck.

“You're clenching so hard querida...my horny little bunny g'na make a mess on my cock over and over and over again.” He mumbled drunkenly in your ear, the sound of wet skin slapping against skin echoed throughout the room. His words shot straight to your aching pussy, sweat dripping down the valley of your tits as Miguel kept manhandling you like a little fuckdoll. The tightening coil in your lower gut snapped as you came, dripping all down his cock and thighs. Throughout this past weekend, Maguel had taken you in any which way but he was way more harsh and pissed this time around. You withstood it all happily. As you clamped down harder Miguel's grip had gotten tighter, bouncing you up and down harder. with that one final thrust and clamp, it didn't take long for him to finish, his hot cum spilling out of you. His groans were your favorite kind of music, it echoed through the chasms of his throat.

But Miguel didn't stop, he kept bouncing you up and down, overstimulating you and fucking you through your Earth-shattering orgasm.

“Miguel- It's spilling out.” You warn meekly but your voice gets lost.

“I don't care. I'll be done with you when I want to be done with you. Now shut up and take it.” He grits between clenched teeth, his jaw setting in anger. He kept going and going, stretching you out, hitting that spot he'd hit so many times in the past two days, spot you never even knew existed before him. You milked him dry and he stilled, sparks lighting under your skin.

Miguel's grip on you softened, letting go of your legs, your feet now settling on the ground, his dick still plugged in you. Both of you were softly panting, your breaths mingling as you leaned your head back on his shoulder, mouth slack and lazy. Both of you were still full of conflicting emotions, but it still wasn't properly released. The passion clouded both of you and it made you feel hazy enough to forget about it during the collision of your bodies, but after as you got a chance to breathe- the thoughts and feelings came back up again. Your hair was wild and messy, your body limp in his arms. Miguel wrapped his arms around your waist as you nested between his legs, he softly kissed the shell of your ear but you weren't buying what he was selling. This sudden act of soft affection after he quite literally fucked you full of anger and pent-up frustration- there was something he wasn't telling you but you were afraid to find out.

An embittered look carved onto your face, and that's when you stood up and got off of him, Miguel raised an eyebrow at what you were doing. Your naked body shimmered as the pale moonlight outside lit you up, you were acting unbothered again and he really fucking hated it. “What are you thinking?” He murmured with restraint, leaning back on his hands.

"Gonna take a shower.” you said softly, but your tone was almost as if you were talking to an acquaintance, not a man you gave your entire body to.

You went into the bathroom of your room, turning the light on and then the shower. Miguel watched you intently as you moved swiftly, closing the door- like you were locking him out. A frown settled on his face. He heard you step into the shower, a faint smell of citrus shampoo traveling through the cracks. Miguel sat with himself for a few minutes and decided that he didn't want to stay here alone. Miguel stood up and opened the bathroom door, steam flowing into the bedroom and circulating at the tips of the ceiling.

The glass casing of the shower made for a perfect view of your slick and wet body. Your hands were doing their work shampooing your hair, your ass looked even more perfect. The soap flowed out of your hair with ease, your fingers squeezing out the excess. you heard a slight shift that made you whip your head around, it was Miguel. “Can I join you?” he says uncharacteristically gently.

“Sure.” You said with a lazy smile. He was pleased that you let him get close to you, he loved being near you any way he could, watching you like a lovesick fool. You looked so natural, so pretty.

Miguel slid open the glass door and stood next to you in the shower, in your element, and for a strange reason Miguel wanted to take care of you. You flashed him a bashful look, throwing your head as a signal for him to get under the stream, he did, letting the water flow to all corners of his body, strands of hair stuck to his forehead, he raked a hand through his hair to slick it back. You were gawking at Miguel, seeing how his muscles tensed under the shower, the water flowing down his abs effortlessly. You blinked up at him dumbly and Miguel caught onto It.

“Mind if I-?” Miguel was acting like a horny teenager, even though he's literally fucked you sideways, in an intimate setting like this- he was nervous. He squeezed some shampoo into his palm and rubbed his hands together, lathering it. You nodded softly, turning your back on him, you were still quite far away though. He didn't like that, Miguel pulled your hair back so you could stumble back a few steps, your ass making contact with his cock. Miguel didn't even let you be surprised about it when he started massaging your scalp. It buzzed your body alive, you hummed appreciatively as his big hands raked through your hair.

“Mmmm...I didn't think you'd ever be domestic.” you say with a raised eyebrow, looking slightly defensive and miguel just huffed.

“I'm not..” His tone was clippy and you didn't like it.

"Yeah..”

You shrug him off and go under the stream, twisting your hair so the soap suds and water drain out of it, you didn't give his the privilege of eye contact. You couldn't deny that you were a little sad that once morning rolled around, he would leave and you would go back to working at HQ, ignoring each other.

-

next chapter is gonna be the last!

-

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[aliorsboxostuff]

I LOVE THE MIGUEL FICS SO MYCH OH MY GOD

Could I request a fic where Miguel gets flustered over you kissing him and showering him with love and you tease him about it?

WOWWWIE I GOT CARRIED AWAY W THIS ONE GHJDFGLKSH left it on a cliffhanger cuz i wasnt hmmm….. ‘Ovulating’ as the girls says it LMAO anyways hope you enjoy this anon!!

Skittering Touch

Tags: Miguel O’hara xM!Reader, Spidey!Reader, Lyla, Spider Society, No Smut, Kissing , Fluff, Reader is another spiderman, Tease!Reader, slight OOC, teasing, suggestive content

Maybe teasing Miguel that much was worth it. 

—

It’s been half a year since you began going out with Miguel.

Half a year of subtle touches, short pecks on the lips and cheek and stealing glances at each other. Obviously, as time moves, so does a relationship and your relationship with the Spider Society leader is no different. 

The funny thing is, despite Miguel's hardened exterior, you never miss to spot the man melting whenever you give him the slightest affection. Whether it be holding his hand, suddenly giving him a peck on the cheek, or wrapping your arms around him he would immediately halt whatever he was doing and turn into a red, stuttering mess. 

You've used this advantage over him too many times to count. Most of it was used whenever you found the younglings getting scolded by Miguel, usually just out of his irritation, but you knew it’d affect the teen’s mood for the rest of the day. As you watch Miguel, hands on hips with his annoyed tone towards Miles and Gwen, you can't help but snicker at the plan brewing in your head. You swing down from the beam you were hanging on and stop behind Miguel before slithering your arms around his narrow waist. You practically felt the sudden jolt of his body, Miguel’s arms half extended like a bird's wings. 

“With that the two of you should've-” He choked, feeling your familiar warmth behind him. 

“Awhh honeeey, have mercy on these kids would ya’? I'm sure they didn't mean to do whatever it is they did,” You pout, resting your chin on his shoulder. “Why don't you two excuse yourselves and head over to Margo, hm? I bet she has some stuff you two can work on,”

Despite the same confused expression on the teens’ faces, they both hurry to swing out of the area, leaving you with a flustered Miguel in your arms. 

“Sweet heart why would you…” You giggle at his groaned-out response, finding the much larger man adorable while his complexion turns a deep red. 

“Sorry Miguel, I just couldn't resist your tempting hips, they’re just built for my arms,” You smirk as the man turns around, his arms around your neck. Miguel huffs as he's unable to hold the smile that creeps up his lips. That triples his current cuteness and you couldn't help but bring him closer to press your lips against his. Miguel returns the eagerness, a deep chuckle rumbles through him.

Other times, it was to help Miguel out instead of teasing him in front of the other Spideys. 

Whenever a mission does a number on him, you could find Miguel burying himself in work and suddenly too deep into surveying the myriads of universes scattered across the webs. It digs a deep worry into your heart seeing him in such a distressing state. Sometimes it takes you a while just to call him down to have dinner together. But there is one way to snap him out of that s[iral of overworking himself.

You’d swing yourself atop his platform before softly landing beside him. With a steady hand on his shoulder, you pull his chin towards you and leave a short peck on his cheek. Miguel would blink once, twice before inhaling sharply as his blush spread through him. 

“Carino,” You’d call, earning Miguel’s full attention now. “It's getting late, let's have dinner together,”

You smile as you press the ascent button on the platform, slowly leading Miguel towards your shared sleeping living quarters where a warm dinner is waiting. 

After dinner you’ll coil around him and bring him to bed, patting his soft curls while he lets off steam with whispers of a rant or simply bask in your warmth, engulfed within your arms. At these times, you cherish how big and cuddly Miguel truly is, especially how he keens when you scratch a certain spot on his nape. Your boyfriend resembles so much like a big panther it’s hard to find him intimidating, you thought with a giggle. 

“Why’re you laughin?” He glances, propping his chin on the expanse of your chest. You shake your head, a smile still evident on your lips. 

“Nothin’ love, what were you saying about Gwen again?” And he’ll continue his rambling.

Other times, you do it well… just because. When you have the most respected spidey in the compound by the tips of your finger, why won't you play with him a little, you know? 

It's been a week of nonstop onslaught towards Miguel. Swinging past him while he talks with Jessica and smacking a kiss right on his forehead, making him halt with an immediate blush over those high cheekbones. Then wrapping your arms just for a minute while he reviews mission files, making him drop the holo-tablet with a clang before you jump away. Or the day when you kissed the back of his hand, squeezing it, before leaping into a portal into the dimension you were assigned, making him stand blankly while Miles's group snicker before they jump into their portals.

When Lyla informed you that Miguel was waiting in your shared living space, you quickly ran from finishing your mission and into the directions of the room. Miguel must have been in a sour mood to have Lyla tell you he’s expecting you instead of shooting a text himself, but you thought it must have been another misbehaving spidey or a mission gone sideways, so when you entered the room to find it empty your brows raised in question. 

“Miguel?”You call into the ghostly room with nothing to reverb an answer. You take a step inside, pulling back the cover to, obviously, no one. Tilting your head, you figured Miguel won't be hiding in the bathroom if he ever was hiding. The only possible conclusion would be Miguel is waiting for you in the other room, a small office space you usually hole up to read or do your other hobbies. 

The door slides open with a hiss, the room inside engulfed in darkness. You take a cautious step inside. “Miguel, Lyla told me you-”

Your spidey senses weren't triggered by how fast Miguel pinned your waist to the wall. His claws gather your wrists above your head, and another sharp nail dances over the fabric of your suit.

“You…” He growls, eyes a bleeding red as it bores into you. Hot breath ghosts over your pulse as you gulp, you anticipate the sharp sting of Miguel’s fangs. 

“You’ve been teasing me this whole week, you little-” He huffs, taking a lungful of your musk, before another low growl breaks out as he straightens to meet your eyes again. His breath is labored, eyes almost frantic with either arousal or anger you couldn't discern. 

“Take resposnisbility.” Miguel bites before he releases your hands, now those claws reach around your body, pawing at your suit, which you quickly pry off of yourself.

Maybe teasing Miguel that much is worth it. 

Reblogs are appreciated <3

[biwindblade]

this time next week…….. i will have watched no way home……..

[mgparker]

Hii !

I literally love your writing and could read it forever ! I was wondering if you could do a tasm!peterxreader where the reader is ALWAYS scared and uneasy (maybe because she was a victim of SA, but if that’s too dark then you don’t have to do that) but with Peter she feels safe and protected (obviously because he’s Spider-Man) but just a fluffy story about how he makes her feel safe whenever he’s around, even when she’s sleeping.

haven

[tasm!peter parker x f!reader]

spoiler free | blurb! | masterlist

warnings: SA suggestive, fluff, f!reader, request

a/n: the topics alluded to in this blurb are heavy and extremely serious. if you ever need anyone to talk to, a shoulder to cry on **online**, an outlet for anything, know that my pms are always open x

It’d been a while since it happened. If you tried, you could come up with an exact number of days since your life had changed but you tried not to think too hard.

Thinking was never a good idea. It only led to that tight feeling in your throat, the unbearable heaviness on your chest.

But now things were slowly getting better.

It was something that would always stay with you, but it was getting easier to get through the day without crippling thoughts.

The anxiety, the guilt, the jumpiness around others when they got too close…

There was only one person you could stand to be around. One person that eased all your uneasy thoughts until there was just silence and comfort.

And like every night, Peter Parker was sprawled across your bed, pencil in hand as he scribbled the answers to his assignment.

It was a routine the two of you had started freshman year of college: homework at your place every night for at least an hour. That way you two could stay on top of your classwork and Peter still had time for his—em— extracurricular activities.

“What’d you get for number four?” You mumbled, tapping your pen against your bottom lip absentmindedly.

Peter didn’t look up, engrossed in his studies, but he turned his head slightly to answer your question.

You thanked him quietly, confirming you’d gotten the same thing. On to question five…

As you ducked your head into your textbook, Peter looked up, one hand supporting his head as his elbows rested against the bed. He was on his stomach, laying across the mattress as you sat against the headboard.

The sight of you captivated him more than any assignment ever could.

Your hair looked a bit messy, ruffled from your habit of running your fingers through it when you were concentrating. He couldn’t see your eyes, lashes fluttering as you stared down at your book. Your lips were moving silently as you read.

You looked peaceful, at ease, in his presence. It warmed his heart, knowing he could provide a safe space for you. There was no one he cared for more than you—his best friend—and no one he loved more.

Well unless you count Aunt May.

The two most important women in his life.

A burning sensation on the side of your head caused you to glance up, catching Peter’s steady gaze. It was silent, the city sounds distant in the background as the two of you took a moment to stare into each other’s eyes.

With anyone else, it would’ve been awkward—uncomfortable even—but this was Peter.

“You okay?” You smiled slightly, tracing the frame of his glasses with your eyes.

It was one of the dorkiest things about him— though he didn’t need the corrective lenses, he still slipped them on because he claimed it ‘put him in a scholarly mood.’

“Yeah,” he breathed. “You?”

“All good over here, Spidey.”

Groaning, he threw his head down against the blankets. “I told you not to call me that!”

You laughed. “It’s cute!”

“It’s embarrassing!” He refuted. “It’s Spider-Man.”

You ruffled his hair, sinking your fingers into his locks as he relished in the feeling. “Sure but you’ll always be Spidey to me.”

Secretly, he didn’t mind the nickname. In fact, he loved it. “I guess I’ll bear it.”

Humming in response, you went back to your assignment, going way over the usual hour you two spent on school stuff but you both didn’t mind, enjoying the silence.

It was so peaceful in fact that you found yourself dozing off, eyes shutting despite your best efforts. Sleep beckoning you in like a cup of hot chocolate on a freezing winter night.

Sparing your best friend one last peek, you allowed your eyes to slip shut.

It was only when your heartbeat suddenly became slower and your breaths steady that Peter noticed you’d abandoned the rest of your assignment.

You must’ve been uncomfortable; from the way your head was tilted back awkwardly and the edge of your book dug into your side.

Deciding he could afford a night off from Spider-Man duties, Peter carefully grabbed the textbook from your grip, sliding everything to the ground as quietly as possible but you still stirred a bit, mumbling an incoherent thanks before adjusting yourself against the headboard.

No matter how you tried to place your head, you were still uncomfortable, shifting and twisting before Peter was right at your side, looking into your eyes for approval as he always did (despite the many times you’d assured him there was no one else you were more comfortable with than him).

Smiling sleepily, you gave him a nod, closing your eyes in bliss as his warmth enveloped you, an arm wrapping around your shoulder and pulling you in until your head was resting against his chest. His other hand curled around your waist, bringing you into a full embrace and silencing every thought until all you could think about was the love you felt towards him.

Maybe one day you’d have the courage to tell him how you felt—not anytime soon but one day.

For now, you appreciated his tender hold, snuggling in closer while the both of you dozed off and left all the world’s problems behind.

…

hi!

little blurb for you all as i finish editing chapter 3 of contingency

i tried to allude to the themes mentioned in the request but this is different for anyone who’s experienced it (and my heart goes out to you) so i tried allude to it rather than write something that might not be the case for someone else.

also, sorry this request took so long!!! and thank you for your kind words, anon <3

— elle <3

[waitimcomingtoo]

In Case You Don’t Live Forever

~chapter three rewritten~

Pairing: Peter Parker x Venom!Reader

Synopsis: you are Peter’s greatest love and Spiderman’s greatest enemy

Series Masterlist

Peter arrived at the Avengers tower with a little pep in his step. His new neighbor was on his mind and he couldn’t get her off. He knew it was a long shot, after all you’d only had one conversation, but he felt like there was a connection between you. You were awkward, he was awkward. What more does a relationship need?

Tony was quick to notice the change in Peters mood. A dreamy smile crept across his face every now and then while Tony was trying to explain something about his nanotechnology.

“Alright Underoos, whats on your mind? A girl? Boy? That gorgeous Aunt of yours? Oh wait no, that’s what’s on my mind.” Tony smirked, making a blush paint Peters cheeks.

“Nothing sir. Sorry, I’ll pay attention.” Peter answered quickly. Tony scanned Peter up and down skeptically.

“So its a girl. Alright. Who is she?” Tony asked, motioning for Peter to sit down with him.

“This girl moved in across the hall from me about a week ago. I’d see her on the stairs sometimes, or in the lobby. She’s beautiful, Mr. Stark. I mean, really beautiful. And I know girls are a lot more than their appearance, trust me, but I can never look away. It’s like God made a perfect batch of cookie dough, and then made a perfect cookie cutter, and then hand made her just for me. There’s just, there’s something about her. I feel like I’ve always known her, and I don’t even know her yet. She knocked on my door this morning and I nearly had a heart attack when I saw her through the peephole. I played dumb and acted like I didn’t know she lived across the hall.” Peter started to explain. A twinge of embarrassment struck him at the memory of what he said to you.

“Oh God. You said something stupid, didn’t you?” Tony inquired, noticing the look of embarrassment on Peters face as he recalled their conversation. Tony leaned on his hands like a child, this stuff exciting him more than anything.

“I insulted her dead father and called him smelly.” Peter admitted, and Tony laughed.

“But she found it funny and agreed with me.” Peter quickly followed up.

“Wow. Normally I’d say there’s no coming back from that, but she seems like a keeper. So, are you gonna throw on your Spidey suit and take her for a ride around the city? Works with all the ladies.” Tony wiggled eyebrows, but Peter shook his head.

“No. Spider-Man isn’t a party trick or some tactic to pick up girls. Plus, I want her to like me for me. That’s why I invited her over for dinner tonight.” Peter answered. Tony looked down at his hands, not wanting Peter to see how proud he was. He couldn’t let Peter get too cocky.

“That was a test and you passed.” To y quipped. “Alright, spider child, you have my blessing. But no funny business tonight. If I find out I’m gonna have to design nanotech baby clothes, I’m gonna be pissed.”

Peter blushed at the mere thought of what Tony was implying and spent the rest of his time at the tower going over missions to get you off his mind.

You arrived at Peters at 6:07. You were done getting ready at 5:45, and sat in the living room on your phone until you were slightly late. You didn’t want to be early, like some loser. Or even worse, on time. You had to be fashionably, but not rudely, late.

You knocked on Peters door at 6:07 and waited. The door swung open instantly, as if he’d be waiting right behind.

“I know what you’re thinking.” He stated. “I’ll let you decide if I was waiting at the door for you or if I’m just really fast. “

He had successfully broken the ice, and you gave kudos to him for trying.

You, on the other hand, were drawing a blank. You had no idea what to say and you were a reporter for crying out loud. You didn’t get tripped up on my words, but something about Peter Parker and that damn collared shirt rendered you unable to formulate a thought. All you could do was stand there and smile at him. You felt like you were standing weirdly and all the sudden had no idea where to put your hands. Do you leave them at your sides? That felt too stiff and soldier-like. But where else would they go? You were pretty sure every brain cell had left your body at that point, leaving you defenseless.

“You look nice.” Peter blurted, interrupting the awkward silence that had settled between you. Even he seemed surprised by his statement. You looked down and shrugged. You looked as nice as a lazy person who didn’t fully unpack their clothes could look. You had on a casual grey dress that was made of some sort of t-shirt material, and your hair was in a loose bun with a few curls framing your face. Peter took in your appearance with what looked like approval. Then you noticed Peters gaze falling to your feet.

“Converse with a dress.” He noted. “Bold move.”

You felt your personality re-enter your body, finally, and nodded.

“Oh yeah. You know me. Quirky and cool and not like other girls.” You joked as you clicked your heels together. “You look nice too. Very…Freddie Benson.”

Freddie Benson? Who the hell makes an ICarly reference to compliment someone? This night was going downhill fast and you regretted ever knocking on his door.

“Dude. You’re tanking.” Venom said in your ear, you had to agree. This couldn’t be going worse.

But lo and behold, Peters beautiful laugh filled your ears once again.

“That’s what I was going for!” He cheered. “My friend Ned always teases me for wearing sweaters and button downs but he just doesn’t have the vision.”

“Come in.” He suddenly stepped aside and gestured inward. “Dinners almost ready.”

Peters apartment looked just like yours, but much more homey. You saw his baby pictures on the wall, coupled with pictures of him and his parents through the years. You noticed a framed picture of a different couple on the coffee table. They resembled Peter but you didn’t see them in any photos with him past the age of around 7. There was a candle next to the frame, as well as a ceramic cross. You quickly looked away, not wanting to overstep.

“You must be Y/N. It’s very nice to meet you.” You heard a woman’s voice from behind you. You turned around and saw a woman in high pants and a yellow tank top, recognized her from the pictures with Peter.

“I am. It’s very nice to meet you too, Mrs. Parker.” You said politely and shook her hand.

“Please.” She shook your hand. “Call me May.”

“May.” You repeated with a smile.

You turned around and saw Peter pulling out a chair for you, so you sat down while May finished preparing dinner. You offered to help, being the polite ass bitch that you were, but May insisted that you were the guest. A plate of “meatloaf” was soon placed in front of you and Peter. The term “meatloaf” is used very loosely. It looked more like an old shriveled brain. Peter made eye contact with you and winked.

“It’s not as bad as it looks.” He whispered. He glanced at May, who was busy pouring the drinks, before leaning in closer and whispering, “it’s way worse.”

You playfully kicked Peter under the table and he giggled, quickly masking the sound with a drink of water.

“So, Y/N, where do you go to school?” May started the conversation. You took a bite of meatloaf, nearly died, and swallowed before answering.

“I’m actually taking a gap year before I start my junior year at Berkeley.” You told her. “And I work part time as a reporter.”

“That’s a very good school.” She complimented. “And I thought you looked familiar. I’ve seen your show on YouTube.”

“I haven’t.” Peter realized. “What’s it called?”

“The L/n Report.” You answered. “I started it my freshman year and it just kinda took off.”

“Oh. I’ve read some of yoru articles, but I haven’t seen the show.” Peter realized. “I can’t believe you do that. That’s really cool. You’re really cool.”

“Thank you.” You winked at him, not used to being praised for your work.

“Peter told me about your father.” May changed the subject. “I’m so sorry to hear that he passed. He left the apartment to you?”

“He did.” You nodded. “And it’s all right. We were estranged anyway.”

“It must be so different living alone in a city.” May sighed. “Did you dorm while at Berkeley?”

“No, I lived with my boyfriend.” You shook your head. Peter began choking on his water at the mention of a boyfriend and May shot him a look.

“Peter. Manners.” She said sternly.

“Boyfriend?” Was all he managed to say between coughs and sputters.

Oh great. Time for this conversation.

“Ex-boyfriend.” You corrected. “I got him demoted to traffic duty for two weeks and he wasn’t too happy about it.”

“He broke up with you over that?” Peter raised an eyebrow. “That’s gotta be the dumbest reason for a breakup I’ve ever heard.”

“May I ask how you got him demoted?” May wondered.

“Well, I’m an investigative reporter, and my ex, Andy, is a cop.” You began. “I looked at some classified files on his computer and used them against someone.”

“Carlton Drake, right?” She realized the story sounded familiar. “I read about that. Your exposé about him was everywhere.”

“Didn’t he die in his own rocket?” Peter asked you, fully invested in the story.

“Yea. I was there. Me and…my friend.” You caught yourself before almost mentioning Venom.

“Gosh I read that story forever ago.” May recalled. “It was all over the news here. I remember Peter ranting to me that this girl was straight out of high school and already taking down shady guys in San Francisco. You were obsessed with the article, remember Peter? I’m pretty sure you hung it up.”

Peter, you guessed it, turned bright red.

“I just thought you were cool. You know, taking down bad guys and all at such a young age. It really inspired me.” Peter explained. He suddenly looked panicked, like he said too much, and you wondered what it inspired him to do.

“Thank you Peter.” You smiled fondly. “How old are you anyway?”

“19. I’ll be 20 on August 10th.” He said proudly. “What about you?”

“He’s legal.” Venom whispered in your ear. You couldn’t even be mad at her, you were thinking the same thing.

“I’m 20.” You told him, and smile crept across his face.

“And this boyfriend, where is he now?” May asked. May wasn’t blind to what was happening between her nephew and this new neighbor and knew that’s what Peter was dying to ask.

“I would very much also like to know that.” Peter said, almost robotically. He leaned in closer and stared at you while he awaited the answer.

“He’s engaged, actually.” You said between sips of water, making Peter sigh in relief. “To a friend of mine. They’re getting married this summer.”

It was the first time you said those words out loud. You didn’t feel sad, like you thought you would. You didn’t really know how you felt. The smile that broke out on Peters face gave a clear indication on how he felt, though.

“That’s great. I mean, not great great. Great for him, I mean. It’s always good to move on. Wether it be with an old friend or a brand new one. Maybe it’s with someone you just met. You never know. Things just happen between the most random of people. Could be a stranger. Or, or, hear me out, it could be less of a stranger. Like a barista, or a mailman or a…a neighbor.” Peter stumbled over his words, the last part coming out very quietly. “I’m sorry that things didn’t work out though. Between you and him, I mean. ”

“Thanks.” You shrugged. “It was tough at first but, I’m okay now. He wasn’t the one.”

“When you do find the one, you’ll know. I knew almost immediately that Ben was the one. I saw him and my heart said “that’s the one you’ve been looking for” and I believed it.” May sighed wistfully. You could see her eyes glistening behind her glasses and did something rather bold. You put your hand on top of hers and squeezed. She gave off this loving motherly vibe that you had only seen in movies but never felt for yourself. May gave you the warmest smile and squeezed your hand back.

“That’s lovely May. Although, I always thought when you met the one, your heart wouldn’t say that it’s been looking for that person. I always thought it would say ‘welcome home’, or something like that. You know? Like, you’ve always known them. I don’t know though. Maybe I’ve just seen The Princess Bride one too many times.” You shrugged.

“Ah. That’s a classic in this household.” May recalled. “Peter would refuse to go to bed without watching it.”

“Because it’s a cinematic masterpiece.” Peter sassed. “You’re trying to embarrass me by pointing out that even as a child I had impeccable taste? Oh please.”

You laughed at his remark, making May noticed the smile that broke out on Peters face when he succeeded in making their new neighbor laugh.

May looked at you for a while with a content smile on her face before saying, “Yeah. I suppose you do have good taste.”

[deniigi]

hi I have something for y’all called a disaster.

I wrote an Inimitable!Spiderman/Modern Star Wars AU because no one can stop me, not even myself. it is like 47 pages long. I am handing it tenderly to y’all.

--------------

Title: impossible scenario

Summary: Peter runs into some drunk assholes arguing, calling each other Han and Luke. He lets it roll off him until he can’t anymore and eventually finds himself for the first time on the other side of someone more chaotic than himself.

------------

There was an argument happening under a fire escape. Peter knew about it because a concerned dude wearing a fuckin’ Yankees cap had flagged him down with waving arms and told him that someone needed saving, Spiderman. Some tall asshole was kidnapping a young blond dude, the guy  and his too-cool-for-him girlfriend explained. They’d heard the two scuffling.

Peter maybe stared for a beat too long at them because the gal pointed two blocks behind him and said, “That way. I think the blond guy might be drugged. He’s slurrin’ something strong.”

Peter liked her shoes. They looked like Miles’s, but blue.

“Spidey?”

Miles told Peter all the time that he wasn’t cool enough to wear Jordans. MJ and Johnny had agreed. Such sad times.

“Spidey.”

“I got it,” Peter sighed.

The gal tsked.

“Man, you’re too young to be this jaded,” she said.

Peter sighed.

“You’re the third person to say that this week,” he said. “You think I should go back to therapy?”

There was a pause.

“You know that answer, dude,” cool-gal said. “Go save the twink.”

Twink. Got it. Thank you, citizen.

“There are websites for that shit, Spidey.”

Bye now.

“Apps, even.”

Bye, bye.

“BetterHelp or Headspace or somethin’—”

“Two blocks, you said?” Peter asked.

 --

 Two blocks away, there was indeed a man with dark hair trying to lift a violently intoxicated twink up onto the first steps of a fire escape. Peter examined his options. There were many ways to ruin a potential kidnapper’s day. His favorite involved coke and mentos, although he’d received feedback that that was a waste of perfectly good food. Down the list was also the option to walk over and scream bloody murder so that the kidnapper shat themselves and dropped their target.

That was good, but Peter was tired and the thought of mustering up the energy to scream at a noticeable volume made his thighs turn to Jell-o.

That left snark and violence.

Today, he would not choose violence. Only for today.

He strode out of his dark temporary residence between two dumpsters directly towards the tall dude and his mark. The mark was a messy one. Bless his heart, he was unwittingly making himself the most noncompliant victim to have ever victim-ed. Every time the tall guy got him almost vertical, he gave up his corporeal form to become drunk slime and ooze back to the ground with various moaning sound effects.

It would have been funny if not for the kidnapping context.

The fact that Peter had been standing there under the beams of two separate side-building security lights and neither of those two had noticed yet was also objectively funny—or would have been, if Peter had the capacity for processing humor at the moment.

Alas. This was what he got for telling Tony that he’d evolved beyond the need for sleep. He got caffeine-pilled. And there would be no true rest until that shit wore off, exhausted as Peter’s body yearned to be.

“Kid, work with me here,” the tall guy said.

“I can’t, I’ll die,” the shorter one moaned.

“Luke.”

“I’ve done my time—thirty years in AZKA—”

“Keep your voice down, oh my god.”

Peter was just standing here, fellas.

“Luke.”

“Why’s it always me? Why’s it always gotta be me? The hell did I do to piss off the whole galax-galaxy? HA. My bad, my bad. The whole universe?”

God, what a mood.

The tall guy dropped his grip on the smaller one and loomed over his puddle of ooze with poison in his gaze.

“People are going to die, Luke,” he said.

“So what? They’re always dyin’. Everywhere I go, people’re dyin’ and when it’s not them dyin’, you know who is?”

“Kid.”

“ME.”

“So you’re just gonna wallow there, feelin’ sorry for yourself?” the tall dude snapped.

“Sure am,” the puddle of ooze hummed.  

This was not a kidnapping. This was a come-to-Jesus in the back alley of a bar. Peter was not needed here. He turned around on his heel and stopped when he heard a sharp intake of breath.

“Is that?” someone whispered.

“Don’t mind me, pal, just your friendly neighborhood—” he started.

“Look what you did,” Tall and Handsome hissed at Ooze-Man. “Someone went and called Spiderman on us.”

Peter lifted a brow as Ooze-man ripped its chest up from the asphalt and composed itself back into a human shape with fluffy blonde hair and huge wide eyes.

“Omigod, it’s Spiderman,” the guy said. “Wait, no. Gimme a hand. No, not that one, fuck off, nevermind, I don’t need you.”

He drew himself up to standing, only leaning slightly on his buddy there and gave Peter as lopsided smile.

“Hi, there,” he said with a twang that Peter couldn’t place. “Were you lookin’ for someone, handsome?”

Ah, they had reached the time of night when all the drunks needed to tell Peter things he already knew about his ass. He loved this time.

Not to mention that this dude looked eerily like Johnny. Scarily like Johnny. So much like Johnny that Peter almost wanted to take a picture of him to send to Sue so that she could print up some lost and found posters.

“Just lookin’ at you, babe,” he said. “This guy botherin’ you?”

The tall guy blanched and then grabbed at his face in horror. Peter swallowed his laugh.

“He sure is, hon. You got time to rescue me?” Blondie crooned.

“Luke, please. Please.”

“Because I’m in real distress,” ‘Luke’ said with a pout mighty enough to fell Thor.

“You sure seem like it,” Peter said. “C’mere. I’ll walk you home. Leave that tool, he ain’t worth your breath.”

He held out an elbow like proper gentleman and was pleased at the hand that Luke laid over his heart in response.

Peter could imagine Johnny’s face in six different expression of jealous horror at a selfie taken with this look-alike. Each was beautiful in its own special way. As payment for being referred to counseling by the public, he at least deserved to receive at least two of those faces.

“You mean that?” Luke asked him.

“He doesn’t,” his tall companion said.

“I sure do, where do you live? I’ll walk you,” Peter said.

“Oh my god, I’m gonna cry, he’s gonna escort me,” Luke said, all choked up and fanning his eyes lightly.

This tall friend grabbed him before he could escape, though, and pulled him back behind his own body.

“Listen, Spidey, this is a misunderstanding,” he drawled. “I know this idiot—he is technically my idiot— and I’m the one escorting his ass home. Thanks, though. You’re a real menace. Beat it.”

MMMMMMM.

And here Peter had been planning on being jaded and miserable this fine night. How could he now when this dude was ticking every box that made him feel alive?

“What’s your name, dollface?” Peter asked across the short distance.

“None of your business,” Tall Guy answered abruptly.

“Luke,” Luke said around him. “Are you gonna save me?”

“In just a minute,” Peter said, striding forward with a hard roll in his shoulder and deep drop in his knees.

It was amazing how Tall Guy wanted to take some steps back all of the sudden. Peter couldn’t help but let a smirk widen his face as he advanced.

“Okay, hang on now,” Tall Guy said with both palms out in front of him. “You don’t know what this is about, Spidey. You don’t want to get involved with this, trust me. He’s just bein’ dramatic. No need to get testy.”

“You sure do a lot of talkin’ for your friend there,” Peter noted through his grin.

“Yeah, Han,” Luke said.

Ha.

Han. Han and Luke. Ned was gonna be enraptured when Peter told him about this later.

“Luke. Back me up.”

“Why should I?”

“Because,” ‘Han’ finally snapped. “I’m not doin’ this because I want you to suffer, alright? I don’t want nothin’ to do with it either, okay? No one does. But it’s this or—”

“Or everyone else,” Luke finished for him in a strangely toneless voice.

Han sighed.

“It’s always everyone else,” Luke said.

“Not here.”

“Why’s it always everyone el—No, no, here. Why not? We’ve got fucking Spiderman in our midst, how much more surreal can this moment get? No. You listen to me, Han—”

“I’ve been listening to you all damn evening and you know what I’m hearing?”

“—I lost my life for this. I lost my home, my aunt, my uncle, my hand—”

“I’m hearing you making this about you.”

“—everything I ever knew, and I tried to make it right, didn’t I? I made the school. I gathered the kids—”

“And it’s not just about you this time, kid. It’s not about you, it’s not about me, or Leia, or Chewie or—”

“—I lost my kid and the love of my life, and I finally get a second chance at finding them and giving them the goddamn happy ending they deserve, and the next thing I know—”

“Luke, you’re the only one,” Han said.

“I WAS NEVER. THE ONLY. ONE, HAN,” Luke roared out of absolutely nowhere, sober as a saint. “I was never the only one. EVER. Ahsoka. Go find her. She’s everything that I’m not and more. She’s the real—”

“Luke.”

“Stop saying that name. I HATE that name. I would do anything for twenty goddamn seconds where I didn’t have to be him.”

“You don’t mean that,” Han said quietly. His shoulders had rounded out and become black and heavy under the weight of their shadow. Luke’s eyes, however, looked like topaz.

“I mean it,” Luke said.

Oho.

So shit had gotten real tense, real fast, so Peter about to make a decision that was gonna make Shelley so proud of him she would weep when he finally slunk back in through her office door.

He was leaving. He was turning around and taking a wee jog. Maybe turning a corner, having a little jump over a fence, up a wall, to a place as far away from this one as superhumanly possible.

Bye, bye.

“This galaxy needs you, Luke.”

Peter stopped five paces away.

“They need you,” Han repeated. “And I need you.”

Peter slowly looked back to see that Luke’s face had twisted sharply out of the light, towards the alley wall.

“I’m sorry that we met again like this,” Han said quietly. “I’m sorry it’s always you. You don’t deserve this. No one deserves this.”

“Shut up,” Luke said.

“But if you don’t do something, then it won’t be just me and you and all these random others sliding back into that cesspit we all barely crawled out of.”

“Stop.”

“You’ll never find him if things go back the way they were.”

“You—you don’t know that. There—maybe—”

“Luke. Listen to me. Please.”

“Maybe there’s a chance—”

“Luke,” Han said reaching out and putting a hand on Luke’s shoulder and clenching it hard enough that Peter should see the bunched fabric, “Do you want Din to live through this shitshow a second time? Hasn’t he suffered enough?”

Peter shivered. The pressure at the base of his neck was building. The Spidey Sense wanted to hiss in his ears like white noise. It pinned him where he was, staring over his shoulder at those two solid shapes, one digging a hand into the flesh of the other.

His stomach turned.

Luke said something that Peter couldn’t hear. Han pulled him toward his own body by the grip he had on his shoulder. At first, Luke seemed to stagger, like he was walking on black ice. He stopped a single step away from Han’s body, still with his face angled severely away. Han said something to him.

There was a long pause, then Luke seemed to fall forward. Han caught him and crushed his head into his shoulder, lowering his own until it was almost touching Luke’s ear. They clung to each other.

Luke was crying.

The Spidey Sense started to crackle and pop in Peter’s ears.

“I gotchu, kid,” Han said in a rasp. “I gotchu. We’re gonna get through it.”

Peter blinked once and finally unlocked the muscles in his neck. He wasn’t meant to witness this. He held out a wrist and fired a line.

  --

It was weird.

It was just weird.

Something wasn’t right. And Peter couldn’t make his stomach not writhe about it.

Luke.

Han.

An offhand mention of like, characters. Character names. They were character names. Leia, Chewie.

Peter had heard of people who lived their lives honestly believing that they had been other people—fake people—in past lives, but like, damn man. Why would you put yourself in a position like that were you were moved to actual tears for some elaborate street-drama?

Maybe it had been a joke? That was the only thing he could think it could be. Maybe the universe had gazed upon his hubris at work and gone ‘ah yes, I know what this young man needs: emotional confusion at midnight on a Thursday. That’ll fix him.’

If that was the case, then yeah. Good job, universe. Good job, larpers. Y’all are equally sick.

But if not—and Peter no longer lived in a world where he could rule out any possibilities—then he had just witnessed—Dude, he’d just witnessed—

He couldn’t even think it. It was beyond him. It was so far beyond him that like he might have a real stroke taking the thought seriously.

There was only one person who could hold that kind of information unscathed.

Only one.

  --

PP: Ned. I need you to listen to me and tell me I’m not crazy.

NL: no promises but go on

PP: I think? I just saw? Luke Skywalker? And Han Solo? In an alley behind Kitty’s?????

NL: fascinating

JS: Say more

PP: who let you in here?

JS: you?

PP: SECURITY

NL: Peter say more

PP: I can’t there’s a nerd in here and it’s vibrating at the wrong decibel. SECURITY???

MJ: yeah?

PP: I’m trying to have a breakdown. Can you remove Matchstick please?

MJ: what kind of breakdown

JS: he thinks he met Luke Skywalker

PP: Security has failed me. God?

NL: Peter can you name three things you can see.

PP: I am not manic. I am in touch with reality. I’m just having anxiety because I just fucking saw two people calling each other Luke and Han fighting behind Kitty’s. Like real fighting.

JS: nicknames?

PP: I—

PP: oh my god nicknames

PP: Johnny I’m so sorry I ever doubted you. never leave my side

JS: 😊

MJ: wow that’s cringe. Imagine naming yourself after SW characters

NL: does kitty do a cosplay night now????

PP: idk it was wild. People thought that ‘Han’ was trying to kidnap ‘Luke’ but when I got over there, Luke started flirting with me and then shit got real and they started arguing over like him hating his name and not wanting to do something and losing everything or some shit

NL: that’s a lot. I’m sure it was nothing, though, peter.

PP: yeah it was. My SS has been going nuts ever since I left. You think they bugged me?

JS: yes I will come search your body imminently

MJ: my job storm, back off

JS: after MJ has finished prelim checks, I will then search your body for you out of the kindness of my heart ❤

NL: that’s weird, the SS doesn’t usually freak out about cosplayers

PP: ikr?

NL: lol imagine if they were serious

MJ: don’t say that

JS: well now we have to lean in. thanks ned

JS: they were definitely real. God they were so real. You hear that Fate? You got us. They’re definitely real.

PP: BUT WHAT IF THEY WERE?

MJ: cue breakdown

NL: that would be so fucking funny. Luke Skywalker and Han Solo trying to save the world from the hellscape of nyc. The rats alone would thwart them.

PP: ned I’m freaking out

NL: oh you mean you’re actually freaking out?

PP: deeply

NL: oh shit sorry. I’ll be over, have you slept yet?

PP: NO

MJ: on it

JS: can I join?

NL: no johnny

MJ: no johnny

PP: 😭

JS: one day our love will build a bridge, peter. In the meantime I am stroking your ear comfortingly from midtown

  --

Need and MJ’s weight pinning him to a mattress brought sleep but not necessarily comfort. They both thought that this was a sick joke someone had played on him that was now destroying his psyche. They thought that the couple pointing him back towards the cosplayers had been in on the joke.

Peter would have agreed with them if it wasn’t for the Spidey Sense. Everything else lined up perfectly.

Ned sighed in the morning and told Peter to go talk to Wade.

 --

 Wade’s hallucinations were, by far, more auditory than visual, but he stayed quiet while Peter talked his ear off over the phone in his locked office. He waited until Peter had run out of words to describe the feeling of impending doom and then huffed a bit of a laugh into the receiver.

“Them Star Wars people are unreal, Pete, you know this,” he said. “Look at Ned.”

Ned was perfect.

“Take off those rosy shades, hon. Now, look again.”

Ned had perhaps memorized the entire scripts of the first three movie and 90% of the spaceship names and the jedi lineages.

“Uh-huh. Keep going.”

Peter didn’t want to.

“We all gotta do shit we don’t want do.”

Fine.

Ned’s goal in life was to go to his wedding in a stormtrooper suit.

“Keep going.”

Every Lego project they’d built together since 13 years-old had been a Star Wars-related one. When Ned had decided to move out of his parents’ place, he’d shed actual tears over MJ and Peter mutually suggesting that he sell some of his memorabilia.

“Will this delightful buffet before our very eyes, what is the likelihood of your two pals being drunk larpers in too deep to quit?” Wade asked.

73%.

“Uh-huh.”

“Thanks, Wade.”

“No problem. Although, now I gotta see this. You said they were behind Kitty’s? You think I can get a stormtrooper costume in 8 hours?”

“They’re not still gonna be there, Wade,” Peter huffed. “It’s 10 am.”

“You ain’t know that. What if Luke Skywalker’s a useless drunk, huh? You ever think of that?”

No.

“What’d he look like?”

Peter groaned.

“He looked like Luke Skywalker,” he said. “Blond hair, blue eyes—sort of like a chipmunk that forgot its stripes.”

“I’m onto you, Skywalker.”

Peter hung up to Wade’s cackle. He slouched low and tapped his pen against his desk. Then against his fingers.

He stared at the edge of his keyboard.

“What’s the weirdest thing you could imagine, Pete?” he asked himself.

 --

 PP: sam

SC: yeah?

PP: do you like star wars?

SC: nah

PP: you’re perfect

PP: do you believe in past lives?

SC: like spiritually or culturally? I know I was a cult-kid for a min there but before that we were Buddhists and like, past lives are part of the package

PP: that’s cool. What do you think of people being reborn as themselves again like, 500000000 years later? From a galaxy far far away?

SC: I don’t think about those people

PP: okay well, hypothetically. Let’s say that you were going to imagine someone who embodied that whole spirit. Who would it be?

SC: Buddha

PP: not buddha

SC: is this a riddle? Is it Jesus?

PP: THOR. Thank you this has been helpful ily bye

  Mr. Stark asked him over a cup of viciously black coffee why Peter was seeking out the demigod of his present nightmares.

That usually meant that he and Thor had disagreed on basic physics principles again. Peter took that also to mean that the demigod was still in the building. Possibly loose.

“He’s with Banner,” Mr. Stark said scathingly.

“Thanks, you’re amazing,” Peter said as he sailed out of the room.

 --

 Thor was sitting on Dr. Banner’s lab table, despite Dr. Banner telling him to get off no fewer than two times in the five minutes that Peter was in there, schmoozing and making pleasantries. He warmed Thor up to the home-run hit by asking him all about past lives and present lives and what the soul was on Asgard. Thor was only too happy to explain a load of nonsense that made Banner roll his eyes and poke at his muscles with a thermometer.

“So, hypothetically speaking,” Peter drawled in a very casual lean, “With the infinite galaxies and universes, etcetera, there could be one where Star Wars people exist. And so hypothetically, they could get reborn into a universe like ours.”

Thor blinked at him.

“You remember the laser swords?” Dr. Banner deadpanned.

Thor lit up.

“I suppose it’s possible,” he told Peter indulgently. “But if that was the case then it would be a long tragedy, no?”

…yes…

Say more, Thor-man.

“Well,” Thor said with a big, happy smile, “The series of events that unfolded in that story seemed to me to be one of triumph and tragedy. With one would come the other—that’s how these stories work, yes?”

…yes.

“So if Master Luke Skywalker and his companions arrived into our space here, then they must experience the same in order to be themselves,” Thor said, bobbing his head in pity. “Perhaps what would look like a new start for such people would result only in terror and disappointment until the same conclusion was reached.”

Peter felt his own grin twitch.

“So it’s not impossible?” he asked.

Both Thor and Banner looked at him quizzically at the same time.

“Peter?” Dr. Banner asked. “Is this coming from somewhere?”

Peter’s grin twitched so violently, it turned into a grimace that even superstrength would not let him maintain.

“Can I borrow one of you?” he asked.

 --

 Wade was not happy to be met outside of Kitty’s in the middle of the day, especially because his stormtrooper outfit, in his words, ‘did no justice for the size of his balls.’

Peter was ignoring that. He dragged Thor past Wade’s righteous anger until he was standing on the place where the other two had stood the night before. Thor stood there gamely.

“There,” Peter said. “Any like, energy signatures?”

Thor glanced around and shrugged.

Wade scowled at him and hounded him off the spot so that he could stand there instead.

“I feel nothing,” he said, devoid of emotion.

“Same,” Thor said.

Damnit.

“Perhaps you are—”

The Spidey Sense smashed through all of Peter’s sense and screamed at him to get to the street.

Get to the street. Get to the street. Get to the—

There.

Across the way. Chipmunk, no stripes.

That was the guy from the day before. He was on the opposite sidewalk smashed in with the crowd, dragging a hand through his hair and laden with a backpack and two separate totes. He was wearing a strange set of clothes—a mash of casual and formal—and seemed to be in a hurry, the type of hurry that involved pushing past folks at a half-jog and not stopping at streetlights.

“Got ‘im,” Peter hissed.

“No shit?” Wade asked over his shoulder.

Thor made a sound of interest.

“I see him, too,” he said. “What incredible energy, I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Wh—

Peter whirled on him.

“Don’t you fucking say that,” he warned. “I’m gonna go distract. You two, on my six.”

 --

 Peter broke four traffic laws on his way around the block. He swung himself around a corner and fucked up the collar on his labcoat and counted to four before stepping out right into ‘Luke’s path.

They collided. Luke stumbled back and dropped one of his totes.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” Peter blustered. “Are you okay?”

Luke swore and dropped down without answering, collecting the odd ends of metal that had clattered out from his bag and now rolled loose over the pavement. Peter stooped to join, gathering rings and pipes of all sorts of sizes in his hands. Oncoming folks gave them a wide berth.

It took a moment for Luke to realize what Peter was doing, but when he did, his shoulders went stiff as a board.

“DON’T TOUCH THOSE,” he snapped, just as Peter made to pick up a little plastic bag with a wad of tissue inside it.

Peter froze.

“Oh. Sorry,” he said.

This time, Luke finally met his eye.

“Oh, Jesus. No. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” Luke blustered, “Thank you. I’ll—I’ve got them. Thank you, though. It’s okay.”

He took the metal out of Peter’s hands and stuffed them back into his bag. He snatched the plastic bag before Peter could touch it and put that on top.

“Excuse me,” he said as he stood. “Thanks again.”

And just like that, he hurried off past Peter down the pavement.

Peter watched him go.

“Catch?” Wade asked softly from the corner.

“Negative,” Peter said, reaching into his sleeve and holding up the thin aluminum tube he’d hidden up there by the edge of his shirt-sleeve.

It was shiny and longer than he’d expect for any plumbing project. The inside appeared to be coated with some sort of heavy, non-reactive material, and half of the outside had grooved bands carved into it.

“Someone’s building something,” he said.

“Mid-century sink?” Wade asked, taking the tube.

“Nope,” Peter said.

 --

 NL: That is a lightsaber hilt

NL: where did you get that? It’s like mega accurate. Was it etsy?

PP: I stole it

NL: give it back

PP: I can’t I stole it from Luke Skywalker.

NL: Peter.

NL: we talked about this.

PP: He’s Luke Skywalker. I swear on the grave of my mother

MJ: this is a problem. This is now an intervention.

PP: I will prove it. If he’s Luke Skywalker, then he will do ANYTHING to get this thing back.

NL: and if not?

PP: then I will wait two days before politely tracking down his home address and then I will return it via wall crawling

JS: UM

JS: SORRY

JS: PETER CAN YOU CALL ME?

PP: no

NL: no

MJ: no

JS: are

JS: are you sure??? Because there’s a guy in Reed’s lab right now talking to him and Sue, asking SUPER politely for access to—I shit you not—the crystals we picked up from that space trip the other day???

NL: …

PP: …

MJ: …

PP: AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

MJ: fake

NL: no way

PP: WHAT’S HIS NAME, JOHNNY BOY????

JS: I can’t

PP: nope you gotta

JS: I can’t I’m gonna cry I didn’t ask for this

MJ: out with it

NL: please say it’s obi-wan

JS: HHHHHHHHHHH

JS: nope

JS: just a guy named Ben 🙃

PP: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

PP: I told you motherfuckers

JS: right. So like. Awkward. But you uh, know that hilt thing you have?

PP: …is Obi-Wan Kenobi about to beat my ass, Johnny?

 --

 There was something about putting the hilt into the palm of someone more famous than Captain America that made Peter’s knees weak.

It did not help that Luke Skywalker had flirted with him the other night.

It did not help that Luke Skywalker didn’t recognize him as Spiderman.

Nothing helped, really, especially when those big topaz eyes lifted and Peter could see that their rims were red and raw.

“Thanks,” Luke Skywalker—the embodiment of hope itself—said in a soft, defeated rasp.

Every alarm in Peter’s head said to save him. Save him from what? How? Who knew.

Ned and MJ seemed to feel the same way, if the pressure on each of his arms was anything to go by.

“Well, that’s all cleared up, then. Thank you so much for your help; it is deeply appreciated,” a stupidly pleasant gentleman with a perfectly combed beard and lovingly coifed light hair said to the room at large.

Obi-Wan Kenobi—pardon, Ben Kennedi—was far more handsome than any movie could ever dream to make him. What they’d done to him in the 1970s, Peter saw now, was a fucking crime. He watched as this beautiful human being set a warm hand on Luke Skywalker’s—pardon, Luke Naberry’s—shoulder and used it to steer him towards the Baxter Building’s front entrance.

He watched as the two of them, like true Master and Padawan, stepped out onto the landing and opted for the stairs. For one fleeting, unbelievable second, Luke looked back over his shoulder at all of them before taking the next step after his Master.

He was right the other night.

He wasn’t the only jedi. Not anymore.

“So that just happened,” Sue acknowledged for everyone after the door had clicked closed and the sound of footsteps had faded off to nothing.

“I’m going to cry,” Reed announced.

��This is single-handedly the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Ned said.

“Obi-Wan Kenobi walked into our kitchen,” Reed told Sue like she hadn’t been there right next to him.

“The empire is trying to establish itself under our very feet,” Sue said back a little viciously.

“The real empire,” Reed whimpered.

Wait.

No, go back.

“For real?” Peter asked.

Sue and Reed looked back at the rest of them and then exchanged a look.

 --

 Peter was sad now. Depressed and laid out on his side staring back at Valeria’s huge eyes on the floor while Ned and MJ and Johnny asked Reed and Sue two hundred clarifying questions.

Peter didn’t need the specifics. He was thinking back on the conversation that he’d witnessed between Luke and Han Solo—Han Solo who was tall with dark hair and dark eyes and an accent straight out of New Jersey. Solo who had probably been charged with forcing Luke to face the facts in front of all of them because he was the one who Luke trusted most.

But it had shattered them—both of them.

The New Hope had given up everything. He was tired. His heart was torn. He was jaded just like Peter had been that same night. He’d been avoiding the tightrope that Peter had already started crossing, though, probably looking for every possible way to not have to set the first foot on that wobbly line.

He’d walked it before.

Valeria reached out with a chubby, round hand and touched the side of Peter’s face.

“Spiderman,” she said with terrifying understanding, “Someone needs help.”

He wriggled in close enough to bonk heads with her.

“Baby Storm,” he whispered, “I think you’re right.”

  --

MJ thought that Peter needed to leave things alone. She pointed out that he had plenty of problems without getting involved in universe-saving. She gestured to Johnny and volunteered him for the job.

Johnny refused on account of needing to be the prettiest blond in any room. He claimed that if he wasn’t, he had to fight for dominance.

Ned was on the other end of the spectrum. He had 43 reasons why Peter should get involved with things, and 40 of them ended up in the same place which was ‘it would be cool.’

One of Ned’s better reasons, however, involved pointing out that Peter had already stolen half of a lightsaber. He was good and involved now, whether he wanted to be or not. And that was enough for Peter to decide to go on a hunt to give a formal apology.

He recruited Ned to help him locate Luke Skywalker.

That didn’t work.

They tried Luke Naberry.

That didn’t work either.

They ended up going through every possible iteration of every Star Wars name they knew and then filtered out the people who’d been named by exuberant parents and then filtered out anyone who didn’t live in New York and they ended up with fat lot of still nothing.

It was like Luke Skywalker didn’t truly exist in this world.

Until MJ found his Instagram by typing in ‘guys who look weirdly like Luke Skywalker.’

She held the phone aloft in triumph and they all gathered round to gape in awe at her intelligence and research skills.

Luke’s Instagram was nothing but pictures of coffee.

He had one selfie and this selfie was enough to have gotten him onto a BuzzFeed article. In it he was holding—you guessed it—coffee. Iced coffee. One in each hand.

He was shaking them, and one had been labeled with his name—hence the public connection made.

“Someone needs to tell him that coffee is not a food group,” Johnny observed.

“Maybe he works nights,” MJ said.

Ned lifted an eyebrow.

“Maybe this is his job,” he said.

There was a pause.

Some snooping revealed that Luke was an honest to god food website editor. He was a cameraman.

Repeat. Luke Skywalker, cameraman. He filmed all the food hosts for his company’s Youtube channel. He edited videos. He more or less blended into the background of everything, while having his finger prints on damn near everything.

This was a man after Peter’s own soul. They were kindred spirits in hidden identities, content creation, and suffering under a boulder of responsibility too great to cope with.

He had to find him now.

And after they had his Instagram it wasn’t too hard. He seemed to hang out in various parts of the Bronx and Peter just so happened to know some folks out that way.

 --

 Louis told Peter that he would never speak to him again if he found, befriended, and then didn’t share Luke Skywalker (the man, the real man, I’m not fucking with you, Louis). But he also recognized a place on Luke’s instagram that he seemed to be working his way through the menu of. He sent along an address and told Peter not to forget his promises.

Angel asked why he was looking for Johnny Storm in the Bronx.

Peter left Louis to rattle sense into her.

He took a walk on Saturday morning. A long walk. A long train ride, then a walk, then a half hour of squinting, and then, lo and behold, he found a blond guy banging his head into the center of an out door metal table across from a woman with heavy braids trailing down the sides of her neck. She was much older than him and drummed white-painted fingernails across her cheek as she thought.

Peter hid and called Ned and MJ for an ID. He peeked the phone’s camera out enough for them to see the other two and then snatched it back.

Ned was about to flip a table.

“That’s clearly Ahsoka Tano,” he said. “She—the braids, dude. Dead give-away. And she put ribbons in them, like what even is discretion?”

Peter didn’t know that person. He continued not to know this person, even as Ned dragged him through a trainwreck of Star Wars lore.

“So she’s a friend,” he said.

“She’s like a jedi, but not like a jedi, she was a jedi, but then she said ‘fuck the order’ and—”

Great. Peter was approaching.

Ned held his face in his hands. MJ told Peter to report back on his findings. Peter ended the call and inched closer, weaving through the crowd and slipping into the coffee joint to see what nonsense they were selling.

It was nonsense with lots of syrup. He could never say no to syrup.

He watched the two outside while waiting for his order. Luke gesticulated to his friend and she spoke, giving reasonable gestures back. He stopped her and dug out his phone and that little plastic baggy full of fluffy material. He answered his phone. His friend took the little bag and held it up to the light.

She frowned at it.

Luke pushed away from the table and walked away to take his call. Peter’s order was called. He grabbed it and swerved out towards the patio.

“Hello,” he said at the edge of Luke and his friend’s table. “Is this seat taken?”

Luke’s friend stared at him.

“It is,” she said. “Move along, hon, you’re ten years too young.”

Wow.

“For your friend?” Peter tried. “Could I leave my number?”

He had this lady’s attention now. She was looking him up and down, appraising. Peter tried not to flex. He stayed cool. Matt-levels of cool. He smiled winningly.

“Alright, why not?” she said, digging through her bag for a receipt and a pen. Peter beamed as he leaned down to scrawl his number down on the back. He got halfway through before he heard a step stop nearby.

“Look alive, kid,” Luke’s friend said. “Hey, Luke, this guy was just—”

“You again?” Luke said.

Peter lifted his head and brows.

“Hi,” he said. “I just wanted to apologize.”

There was a long silence.

Luke’s friend looked between them and then gave Luke a long, judgmental stare.

“You don’t have to,” Luke said. “Thanks, though. How did you find me here?”

Mmm. Beginner’s luck.

“Here,” Peter said, offering his number on the receipt. “If you ever need someone to talk to who gets it.”

Luke’s friend bit her lip and looked away in secondhand embarrassment. Peter ignored her for now.

“Thanks,” Luke said. “You don’t and you won’t. But you’re very pretty.”

Nice.

“You’d be surprised,” Peter told him. “Gimme a text. I’ll leave y’all alone now. Enjoy your coffee.”

He left. But not before hearing, “but that ass, Luke.”

 --

 Ned told him that there was no way that Luke was ever going to text him and he was disappointed in Peter’s hostage-taking skills.

But he was proved wrong two hours later and, for his crimes, had to admit Peter’s brilliance publicly.

 LS: hi sorry. This is Luke. This morning when you stopped by our table, did you happen to see a little plastic bag on it?

 Why yes. The one in Peter’s pocket right now? That bag?

 PP: hi!! I did, actually. You guys aren’t very subtle 😏

LS: it’s not coke

PP: I’m not judging

LS: no, it’s not coke, I swear. It’s something INFINITELY more important. Did you happen to see if it had fallen on the ground?

PP: ah, no, sorry. I didn’t see it

PP: OH NO

PP: oh my god I’m so sorry, I think I took it with me when I accidentally took your friend’s pen.

LS: I

LS: what’s your name?

PP: Peter ❤

LS: Peter, you have a fucking problem

LS: I’m starting to think that you want something from me. And listen, you’re a handsome guy, but I’m not available and my type isn’t kleptomaniac. What do you want for it?

PP: well you got me

PP: to talk

LS: about what?

PP: mostly about why you look like you’re a wet phonebook in a bad gutter

LS: a phonebook???? What era are you even from????

PP: I could say the same to you, sir.

LS: I

LS: wh

LS: alright touche. The point is that I’m not going to talk to you. I just need that bag back. It’s a life and death situation.

PP: what are they? They aren’t coke crystals.

LS: how would you know?

PP: what are you, a cop?

LS: NO. This is going nowhere. What. Do. You. Want?

PP: To. Talk.

LS: I’m not going to talk to you.

PP: then why did you ask me to rescue you?

 He held his breath.

 LS: I didn’t

PP: you did

LS: I didn’t ask you for shit. This is it. What’s your last name.

PP: Man 😊

LS: Man what

PP: That’s my last name.

LS: Peter Man.

PP: oop, nope, sorry. That’s someone else.

LS: …so I’m calling the police, now. That’s what we’re saying?

PP: depends. Do you still need to be rescued?

 Come on, Skywalker. Come on, remember.

 LS: I never asked you to rescue me.

PP: You did. Think back.

LS: I didn’t

LS: I just made a joke to

LS: WHAT AFAJSDFA DTTH E FUCK

 Peter cackled and let himself fall onto his back.

 PP: Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii ❤

LS: YOU’RE

PP: Just your friendly neighborhood guy ❤

LS: YOU

LS: you

PP: me

LS: THAT’s how the storms knew you

PP: yep 💋

LS: I don’t even know what to say

PP: it’s okay, you don’t have to say shit. The main thing I wanted you to know was that I hear you. And if you need it, I’ve got you.

LS: You’re literally trying to rescue me??

PP: it’s my job

LS: IT ISN’T. How have you never been arrested? how did you find me? Did you track my phone? Is it some kind of spider thing???

PP: yes

LS: I am legally obligated to kill you with the force now

PP: harder daddy

LS: ADaaSDASFSDFSdd

LS: oh my god Han is going to lose his gourd

LS: I’m sorry I just I can’t believe you of all people stole my damn hilt

PP: I’ve got……………………..sticky fingers

LS: go die

LS: no I didn’t mean that sorry that’s a thing with me and my sister. I mean, okay. You got me. Hero of NYC.

 Peter’s cheeks were starting to hurt.

 PP: I’ll bring them back to you.

LS: Please do, Ben’s about to have a stroke.

PP: you mean obi-wan?

LS: he’s convinced his cat ate them. There’s a staring contest happening. No one has blinked in two minutes and I don’t want to be here for the internal investigation.

PP: where do you live?

 Luke sent an address. Peter held his phone high and walked it into the living room where Ned was bitchily composing an Instagram post. He and MJ looked up at the same time.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Peter said. “Luke Skywalker and Co. live in a cemetery.”

 --

 It wasn’t a cemetery. It was a funeral home, but close enough.

Luke was waiting outside on the stoop in a cardigan about four sizes too big for him. It was there probably to protect him from the equally large ragdoll cat in his arms.

Peter smiled. Luke stared at him and then shook his head and went through the screen door. Ned gave Peter a biting look.

“Made friends, I see,” he said.

“We’re doin’ great,” Peter told him, hopping up the stairs. “Look at us, totally—”

“Insidious.”

Peter stopped and turned nervously to see through the screen door where Obi-Wan Kenobi had seized both of the cat’s cheeks. Luke continued to hold it with maximum doneness levels.

“Where have you been?” Obi-Wan asked the cat seriously.

“We have guests,” Luke said. “Take your beast.”

Obi-Wan snatched the cat out of Luke’s arms with contempt all over his face.

“You are a villain of the highest order,” he told it.

“Ben. Guests. Please evacuate. I am hosting negotiations,” Luke said.

“We should have named you ‘Sith.’”

“Ben.”

Peter was not going to laugh at Obi-Wan Kenobi. That was too surreal.

“Come in,” Luke said, returning to hold open the screen. “I hope you’re not allergic. There are two of them.”

T-two?

“The other one is Junior.”

Peter stepped over the threshold and found himself in a room that looked like a human birdhouse. It was full of surfaces that were almost completely empty, as though an enrichment object had once lived there but had been removed as punishment. Luke waved Ned and MJ in and accepted their apologies on Peter’s behalf.

Peter ignored them to lock eyes with a creature more stunning than any he had ever encountered. It sat on the kitchen counter by a single clear jar labelled ‘Not Spice.’ It blinked grumpy green eyes.

“Oh, it’s these people again?”

They all looked behind them to see Obi-Wan peering around a doorframe with the first cat draped over his shoulders.

“Kleptomaniac,” Luke said, pointing at Peter. Peter waved.

“Huh,” Obi-Wan said simply. “I will distract Ahsoka.”

He vanished. Luke grimaced after him.

“Let’s go talk in the back,” he said. “There are no bodies, I promise.”

 --

 The funeral home had a little deck and a yard small even for this far out in Queens. It was crammed full of plants that appeared to be in a competition to bloom. Luke invited them to sit and then left to make coffee.

Coffee, yes, how had Peter forgotten.

He peeked over the side of the deck down where there was a large stone set in the center of the garden.

“A seeing stone,” Ned whispered to him.

“Oh, how did you know?”

They all jumped.

Peter swore that Obi-Wan hadn’t opened that sliding door. How had—what—

Ned was at a loss for words in the face of one of his greatest heroes.

“I—uh. M-movie? I mean, sorry. It was in The Mandalorian, second season, with the—”

“Yet more television,” Obi-Wan said derisively.

They all stared.

“Can you teleport?” MJ asked him.

“I thought you were bothering Ahsoka?” Luke asked, from inside. He squeezed past the man and his cat with three glass mugs in hand. He set them down on the little square table off to the side of the desk railing.

“I was, but then I got curious,” Obi-Wan said. “And I lost Junior.”

Luke stared at him.

“I’m going to lock you in the basement,” he said.

“Try, try, and try again,” Obi-Wan told him, petting his beloved cat’s head.

“Do you even know who Spiderman is, old man?”

“More television.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Peter had to keep a conscious watch on his jaw, lest it fall open in the face of the most handsome, clueless man on the planet. He watched as Obi-Wan, disgusted with all this ‘television’ nonsense skulked back off into the guts of the home. Luke shut the door behind him.

“So,” he said, holding out his hand. “We’re talking. Fork ‘em.”

Ah.

Fair was fair.

Peter produced the plastic bag from his pocket and handed it over. There was a shout somewhere inside followed by someone going ‘What the fuck is wrong with you?’

“Ben keeps our home ghost free. He terrifies all the wannabee haunters,” Luke said simply. “Thank you for these. I imagine it’s somewhat of a shock to learn that it’s all real.”

It was, but it wasn’t the weirdest thing Peter had encountered by far.

“How long have you lived in New York?” he asked conversationally.

Luke gave him a weird brow.

He seemed smaller than before in that enormous cardigan. Certainly smaller than the movies made him seem. His face was a little thinner too, and his lips seemed to slope into an almost permanent pout.

“About twenty years,” he said. “We were born in California, but Anakin moved us here when we were eight.”

Anakin? Like, Darth Vader, Anakin?

“’Luke, I am your father’—yeah, that guy,” Luke said with a scoff. “Except, you know, he ain’t dead. And he’s the only one who can make Ben remember that tea isn’t a meal, so we keep him around for that and to scream back at Leia.”

Peter was already completely lost to the dynamics of this household. It wasn’t like the books and movies—Ned’s twitching for his phone to take notes was proof enough of that.

“That’s awkward,” MJ said. “So did y’all do like, collective counselling for the past life shit?”

Luke deflated and moaned into his hands.

“It’s not past life shit if your damn name is the same,” he said. “It’s complicated.”

It sounded like it.

Imagine growing up with your apparently-Star War-obsessed father and uncle who’d built a home and a business (presumably) around that shit, only to find out later that they’d done it because it was literally their religion.

What a trip.

“When did you find out?” Peter asked gently.

“Oh, you know. Last week,” Luke said with a bitter grin. “Quit my fulltime job. Dumped my ex. Broke my lease and now here I am. Once again. Back at this place.”

“Do you want a hug?” Ned asked into the awkward silence.

“You’re very sweet,” Luke said. “If I touch another human, I will start crying and never stop.”

Yikes.

Barely holdin’ on by a thread there, buddy? How’s the hyperawareness going?

“Why does it matter, is my question. For you, I mean,” Luke said with a suspicious squint. “You fought a goblin guy, didn’t you? With a hover board?”

Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuh, yeah.

Yeah, Peter sure had done that.

“And like, the bird dude? Didn’t you down a plane?”

Perhaps.

But Luke had blown up the Deathstar, no?

“These things are not equivalent,” Luke said flatly. “I joined a rebel alliance. There were loads of us.”

Mmm. Perhaps so.

“God, how old are you even? You look 22.”

Peter gawked.

“I’m 27,” he said.

Luke did a double-take.

“That’s a lie,” he accused. “Tell the truth or be compelled.”

“By the Force?” Ned asked hopefully.

Luke blinked at him. He pointed at the glass sliding door which revealed Obi-Wan holding Junior the cat above his head by the kitchen sink.

“The Force,” he said.

Ned’s face fell.

“Do we not have the Force, here?” he asked.

Luke flinched.

“Listen,” he said abruptly, “We’re workin’ on it. This isn’t our original galaxy. The rules are all different. The only one who’s managed to make even a spark happen is Obi-Wan so far, but as soon as we find Master Yoda, it’s over. We’ll already have won.”

“You lost Yoda,” MJ mused.

Luke stammered and caught himself.

“We lost a lot of people,” he snapped. “It happens when you shift galaxies. Anyways, that’s what the stone is for.”

MJ glanced back at the stone and then leaned her forearms onto the small table.

“So, let me get this straight,” she said. “You jedi folks all popped up over here by some cosmic accident. You don’t have the Force. Most of you don’t even remember who you are. You lost your most experienced Master, and you’re going to fight the Sith?”

Peter stirred his coffee nervously.

Luke’s eye twitched.

“We don’t need the others,” he said. “We only need the Force. To fight the Sith. Yes.”

MJ frowned deep and held her chin with both hands.

“So you need the thing you for sure don’t have the most,” she said.

Luke opened his mouth, but not before the window by the door snapped open and Obi-Wan leaned out to say, “We always have the Force.”

Luke covered his face in despair.

“I was listening from the kitchen window,” Obi-Wan told him lovingly.

“GO FIND CODY ALREADY,” Luke roared at him.

“I did, he’s right here,” Obi-Wan said soothingly, stroking his angry cat.

“The other Cody.”

“Oh, I am trying, don’t you worry.”

“Ben, so help me God—”

“Force.”

“SO HELP ME FORCE—”

Star Wars had really left out the part about Luke’s explosive temper. Peter winced, but Ned laughed and the sound seemed to have a calming effect on Jedi-on-Jedi crime about to take place in the kitchen. Obi-Wan appeared pleased with this development and emboldened. He wove past Luke out onto the desk and came over, cat and all, to point down to the seeing stone in the middle of the garden.

“Others who feel the Force’s energy will be drawn to it,” he told Ned fondly. “It’s how we got Luke back home.”

“It’s not,” Luke said. “You called me.”

“And so others will also come,” Obi-Wan said with confidence. “The most important thing is that we believe in the Force. And from that, we will find guidance and power and—”

“He means Yoda,” Luke translated. “He’s been putting frogs on it as an offering, even though me, Ahsoka, and Anakin told him that this is a human’s world. A human’s world, Ben. Even if he did eat them, he’s not eating them raw.”

“Don’t be discouraged by Luke’s attitude, he is very stressed,” Obi-Wan told Ned and Ned only affectionately. “I told him not to be, you see there are four of us here already, and the Chosen One is among us.”

“Anakin told you to stop calling him that,” Luke moaned, massaging his temples.

“He was the first to be aware of our present situation,” Obi-Wan said.

“He took a hallucinogen and had a paranoid breakdown,” Luke pleaded. “Ben, please. Go inside. Think of your blood pressure.”

“Perhaps, but it was a useful breakdown, was it not?”

“I am so sorry for him, he’s getting senile,” Luke said to the rest of them.

“Your energy is different,” Obi-Wan informed Peter out of absolutely nowhere. “Are you also Force-sensitive? Were you drawn to the stone?”

Er.

No.

Sorry?

“He’s Spiderman,” Luke said, gesturing pointedly. “Remember Spiderman?”

Obi-Wan did not. Peter suspected, actually, that Obi-Wan still used phonebooks, if he used phones at all, that was.

Luke took a deep breath and let it out.

“Okay, let me just lay it out,” he said. “We’re doing the best we can with what we have. You don’t have to get involved with this. We appreciate your help, but what would help us even more is if you stay out of it, alright?”

Yeah, okay. Sure. Peter could respect that.

“Amazing. And don’t tell other people.”

Understood.

“Unless they’re Force-sensitive,” Obi-Wan said. “In which case, ask them how they feel about rocks.”

Luke just stared at him coldly this time.

“You didn’t used to be like this,” he said dangerously.

“No, I used to be stressed,” Obi-Wan told him. “But you and Ani are doing that for me, so I have resolved to be a free spirit. Nice to meet all of you. Have more coffee. I don’t like this one; I will have it out of the house by sundown.”

He left, and possibly for good this time. No one knew what to say in his absence.

“So,” Peter tried, desperate for something to break up the tension. “You said a few days ago that you were looking for someone?”

Luke finally stopped making growling faces towards the sliding door. He lit up like a bulb.

“I am, actually,” he said.

 --

 Luke was looking for a very particular person named ‘Din.’ He described him as ‘six feet tall and covered in armor.’ He asked if they knew of such a person.

Peter had to shove a hand against his mouth in case he made an unwanted connection between this description and Obi-Wan behavior.

“Haven’t,” MJ said. “Who is he?”

“My husband,” Luke said.

Ned choked.

Peter choked.

MJ tilted her head.

“You have a husband?” she asked. “I would have remembered a husband in that series.”

Luke leaned his chin on his palm and gazed sideways over the city. He seemed to sigh.

“I don’t know why he isn’t connected to me in the media created here,” he said. “It’s probably because he’s always been very shy.”

Oh, aw. Peter loved that. The contrast between them was heart-warming.

“We had a son together,” Luke said. “His child. He brought him to me. One of my students, at first.”

Hang on a minute here.

Peter exchanged a glance with Ned. Ned tried very hard to pick a way to approach this sensitively. He landed on asking, “What was his name again?”

“Din,” Luke said. “Din Djarin.”

Ned cringed.

“He was a Mandalorian,” Luke explained. “Very, very, very shy. Like, he would rather chew off his own leg than make small talk with a stranger. I think, before I knew all this, I was still subconsciously looking for him. All my exes are the same type.”

That—

Okay, so like.

Did these people own a TV?

“Do we look like we own a TV?” Luke deadpanned. “No. If Ben senses anything bigger than a datapad happening in this place, he’s driven to madness and breaks it.”

UH?

“He doesn’t actually break it,” Luke sighed. “He just finds a way to make it unusable—putting clothes on it, disconnecting the monitor, that kind of thing. He thinks they waste electricity.”

What a guy. Peter wanted to put him and May in a room and see what conspiracies they could spin together.

“Why do you ask?” Luke asked.

Ned cleared his throat.

“Do you have a, uh, datapad, then?” he asked.

 --

 “DIN. That’s DIN. He’s got his own show. Oh my god, that’s—stay right there. Don’t move.”

Bless this man. Peter wanted to hug him so bad. They’d lost him to the staircase leading up from the second floor to the attic. Peter wondered who he was showing the tablet to.

Maybe Obi-Wan?

“I told you this already,” a voice up there said.

“LOOK AT HIM.”

“You’re killin’ me, smalls. We had this exact conversation last week. Did you forget?”

“You knew where he was.”

“Alright, alright. Downward march.”

Anakin fucking Skywalker came down the stairs with a handful of Luke’s shirt in one hand and the tablet shoved under his other arm. He paused and frowned at the three of them in the kitchen frozen in shock, and then apparently decided that that didn’t matter. He carried on dragging Luke with him towards the kitchen counter. He dropped the tablet onto it and Peter realized that the lower half of his sleeve on that side was empty.

He watched as the guy let go of Luke and chased the not-angry cat off the counter, cursing.

“Alright, this?” he said, tapping on the tablet. “Is the link I put here.” He rapped the same finger on what Peter now saw was a whiteboard covered in rows upon rows of symbols that he’d never seen before.

“Din here? Din here. You see?” Vader told Luke with untold patience.

“I can’t read that,” Luke moaned. “You lied to me.”

“It’s up in the kitchen, Luke.”

“You’re a liar and a cad. Do it in Basic.”

“This is Basic.”

Oh, dear. All that fanfic about Luke meeting Darth Vader and having a breakdown was looking real embarrassed now, wasn’t it?

“If it’s Basic, why can’t I read it?” Luke demanded.

“Because, like I told you last night, the night before, and the night before that,” Vader said painstakingly, “It doesn’t all come back at once. It’s going to take time.”

“We don’t have time,” Luke snapped.

Vader leaned his head back with half-lidded eyes. Luke didn’t look even remotely like his kid, even with him looking all pre-quels-like now.

“We talked about this, too, remember?” Vader asked.

Obviously not. Luke was distressed. He had eyes only for the tablet now.

“No, of course not, silly me,” Vader said. “Why are humans here?”

“Ahsoka went home,” Luke said.

“Thank you, that was not my question.”

“What was your question?”

“Why are non-order humans here?”

“I told you, Ahsoka went—”

“Son, I will kill you if you continue to act like Obi-Wan,” Vader said without missing a beat.

“You can try,” Luke said offhandedly. “But only one of us has two handed grip.”

There was a long stare.

“It’s Obi-Wan,” Vader told him. “Why do we have living guests?”

He gestured back to Peter, Ned, and MJ like they were flies on a set of blinds.

“Oh, because that’s Spiderman and he stole your kyber crystals,” Luke said.

Vader rounded on Peter, and Peter actually felt fear.

Vader blinked once.

“This may as well happen,” he decided somehow placidly. “I’m going back upstairs. Where did your grand-master go?”

“Into the mist,” Luke said. “Can you feel Din?”

“Negative, ghostrider.”

“When the Force chooses you first out of favoritism, can you feel for Din?”

“Ah yes, can I feel for your Force-repellant life partner with all of the Force energy that I do not have? Yes, I sure can.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Anytime, primary monstrosity of my loins.”

UM?

This felt a little hostile for Peter’s tastes. Not that it wasn’t earned. Clearly it was earned. It was just horrifying.

“Guests, you are dismissed,” Vader said in their direction. “Unless you’re drawn to the rock outside, in which case, you may stay. Otherwise, do not darken this doorstep again, or else we will leave you with the other dead in the morgue.”

“Thanks for bringing the crystals,” Luke said from behind him. “And for talking. I do feel better, actually.”

 --

 They left the funeral home. Obi-Wan was outside by the mailbox as though waiting for them. Peter wasn’t sure he had any emotional energy left to approach him with.

“Thank you for speaking to Luke,” he said as the three of them attempted to pass unnoticed. “It’s good for him to talk to others his own age.”

Uh-huh. Good night, sir?

“Good night, Peter, Ned, and Michelle.”

They hadn’t given their names.

They definitely hadn’t given their names.

 --

 Ned wasn’t sleeping for two years. He made this clear with a lot of clapping gestures and then rolled around on the floor, talking about all kinds of shit that Peter couldn’t decipher. MJ watched him and flicked her eyes up to Peter with concern on her forehead.

“That family is cinematically dysfunctional,” she said.

Correct.

“They’re barely their own characters.”

Correct.

“What now?”

Peter wasn’t sure. The best he could think of was to just keep an eye on the situation. Maybe check in every couple of weeks?

“If you say so,” MJ said. “I think you made Ned’s life, by the way. Good job.”

 --

 Peter tried checking in every two weeks. It started because he happened to hear of a tunnel collapsing in Queens nearby the funeral home. He texted Luke to ask if he needed a save and all he got back was a ‘well, not anymore.’

After that, Peter kept a close eye on happenstances occurring around the city. There were more than he bargained for. And when he glanced at Luke’s Instagram after the first week after the tunnel collapse, he noted that two of the nails on the hand Luke held his coffee to the camera with had gone completely black.

That was worrying.

Peter was used to be the danger-prone asshole in his friendgroup. He did not like this role-reversal. MJ asked him sarcastically what the problem was.

He texted Luke again.

 PP: how many nails do you have left bro?

LS: we put a hole in one to release the pressure

PP: that don’t sound great bro.

LS: it’s fine. Oh, but good news

PP: oh?

LS: the most predictable thing ever has happened. The Vader has regained force power

PP: that’s worrying

LS: ? why?

PP: won’t he go dark?

LS: ah, no. He fucked up and raised me and Leia with Ben this time after our mom died. He had his chance to go dark and traded it for 8 consecutive hours of sleep instead.

PP: I truly don’t know what to say

LS: It’s fine we did 12 years of family therapy after the accident so we are no longer on the DSS watchlist

PP: I know less what to say

LS: he won’t find din :/

PP: is that your priority right now?

LS: aren’t you supposed to be spiderman or something? Don’t you have chaotic things to say?

PP: you know normally I do, this is literally out of character for me. but I think you also might be absorbing my chaos.

LS: that’s fair. I have that effect on people. Hey, is your buddy Ned available to chat? He knows more than I can remember about my old life. Can I borrow him?

 That sounded like a horrendous decision.

 PP: yeah let me get you his number.

LS: thanksssss

  --

Ned reported a few days later that his services were needed at the funeral home. He was leaving them all now to befriend Luke Skywalker as was his true destiny.

He came back a few hours later and reported that his services had been helpful and he was pleased to say that Darth Vader was now the official herder of ‘wans’ in the house. This included all Obi-Wans and padawans.

He seemed to be the only guy there who could like, retain information given to him for some reason. He accepted this as his lot in life and went around repeating the same things to the others ad nauseum until they finally stuck for them.

Peter wondered if that was his personal hell.

Ned didn’t think so. He thought the guy was pretty chill about it and had probably been doing it for a while now. He did it more for Ahsoka Tano and Luke than he did for Obi-Wan. Although that was probably because Obi-Wan appeared to be on a hunt that made all non-relevant information given to him slip off his back like water.

 --

 Another two weeks. Another text.

 PP: hey luke, I saw you drowning on the news. You okay?

LS: GOD my ex-workplace keeps calling welfare checks on our house. We’ve had more cops here then flies these last few days.

PP: ex-workplace is one way to refer to your old job. Sounds like they cared about you. What did you do?

LS: preschool teacher.

 Peter was going to lose his shit right here on this bed.

 PP: was that your calling?

LS: that was Luke Naberry’s calling. Luke Skywalker’s calling is to make the lightsaber go vrrrrrrm

PP: you honestly terrify me

LS: thanks han says the same thing. OH. HE FOUND CHEWIE.

PP: no shit??

LS: yeah I told Ned, not you. But yeah. He found him lugging boxes for a bodega. And now they both work at the same bodega. Which like, objectively, is a bad thing because Han was a UN translator.

PP: I’m

PP: sorry

PP: what?

LS: I know he was all respectable and shit. It was awful. I can look at him again without feeling like I’ve failed in every part of my life.

PP: dare I ask what your sister does?

LS: lawyer

PP: not senator?

LS: we’re not old enough to be senators.

PP: every moment becomes more concerning than the next. You fascinate me. This is why they put you in like, all the films.

LS: because I’m sexy yeah

PP: that too

LS: not to you. I’m off-limits bub. I’m married.

PP: how’s that going for you?

LS: Hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

PP: I see. So no Din yet?

LS: I will find him if it kills me

PP: that’s so romantic. Hey you should watch that series. They gave him a little green yoda in it. Really cute.

LS: that’s my son you piece of shit

 There was no winning here.

 --

 MJ asked him a few weeks later if he was still keeping up with the Jedi drama since the whole city had recently decided that Peter was a snack.

Obviously he hadn’t.

She told him not to worry, Ned had. She told him to talk to Ned, so he went and talked to Ned with a heatpad in one hand and a coldpack in the other.

Ned patted at him sympathetically and informed him that Luke had reunited with the Force. It was going poorly for him, mostly because the Force wasn’t used to people being in touch with it in these parts of the universe. It kept telling each of the jedi that there was a disturbance and then luring them to each other to fight to the death.

Luke described it as the Force-equivalent of an auto-immune disease.  

They’d taken to gathering in the living room of the funeral home to meditate in a circle, as though to calm the Force’s anxiety while scenting each other for protection.

It had a 40% success rate. Everyone was sleeping in locked rooms for the time being, just in case someone got compelled to do something rash.

Peter asked Ned if he’d finally lost his crown as King Chaos of NYC.

Ned patted him on the knee more firmly than before and said that he could regain his crown by introducing a calming element into the jedi household.

Peter had his pride to defend, so he asked what that element ought to be.

  --

Din Djarin, the Mandalorian, the leader of all Mandalorians, was bound to have a name that looked nothing like the one they had for him. Luke nearly exploded when Peter approached him to asked him (and his taped fingers) more about who Din Djarin was outside the name.

They proceeded with caution, however. So far, Peter and Ned had discovered only dissonance between Luke’s account of his life partner (his ‘heart, stars, sun, and sand’) and the guy on the screen for the tv show. That was to be expected, given that they had met Luke now and learned of his somewhat explosive personality.

But even still, Luke’s description of Din Djarin as ‘kind, compassionate, tender, shy, emotionally stable, dependable, sweet, caring, and hunky’ seemed slightly biased.

Peter just wanted to know how tall this guy was. Hair color. Eye color. Skin color. Blood type. That kind of shit.

Luke said that Din had brown hair, brown eyes, Type Who Knows What blood, and was about six feet tall. He had no idea how much he weighed. He’d never had need for that information. He knew that Din was human, which was probably helpful in a galaxy far, far away. He knew that he spoke Mando’a as his first language, then Basic, then a whopping fifteen others. And he knew that Din was probably looking after their son.

Vader asked Peter over a mug of coffee (also labeled in the funeral home’s cabinet as ‘not spice.’) if Spidersenses could overcome a dearth of information. It took Peter a few moments to realize that he was sympathizing with him.

“You’re not going to find Din,” Vader told Luke. “You need to look for the kid. You’ll find the kid first, you always have.”

Luke took his coffee and poured it down the drain.

Peter decided that he didn’t want to get in between that burgeoning battle. He told Luke to text him if he remembered anything else.

  --

Wade was pissed that Peter had been meeting and ‘cavorting’ with Luke Skywalker without him. He claimed ownership of the Din Djarin mystery in order to cram himself into Luke’s good graces. But quickly, he ran into the same stumbling blocks as Peter.

Din Djarin was six feet tall with brown eyes and brown hair.

That was what they currently had to go on.

Wade would have torn out his hair if he had any, but he stopped himself and accepted the challenge. Peter watched over his shoulder as he chicken-pecked his way into a list of social security numbers held by the NYC State ID issuing department and started methodically filtering names that did not sound like ‘Din.’

He started broad with all ‘D’s and then narrowed it down further and further and further until he was left with a shitload of Daniels.

He stared at the screen before him and vibrated.

Peter massaged his shoulders before he cracked.

It helped. Wade started filtering by height, then by eye color. Then by hair, and only ended up with several hundred people.

He vibrated again, but this time, Peter couldn’t help him.

He sighed. Wade said that there had to be a better way to do this. He got up.

  --

Wade made about four thousand missing posters with the name Din Djarin on them which he recruited the whole team to plaster up around NYC. This was not a request.

Miles asked him why they were doing this for a tv character and had to be let in on the gig.

He lost his shit.

Louis tried to retain his shit.

Angel still didn’t know how the whole jedi thing worked.

Dave hummed and haw’ed and took his time in calling bullshit. Wade asked him to look deep into his eyes and ask if he was entertaining bullshit that fine evening.

Dave changed his opinion and took a stack.

  --

There was no way that shit was supposed to work. There was just no way. A) because Wade had the worst ideas of all mankind and B) because Peter had the worst luck of all mankind. So the two of them together should have destroyed all the prospects of success for that job.

But instead, while they were hatching a new plot involving setting up a sham sociological study for people who responded to Star Wars names, Wade’s phone went off.

He grabbed it and opened the message and lo and behold right there was a note that read,

“I hope you are not a reporting body because this is going to sound certifiably insane, but I think I might be the guy you’re looking for?”

Wade screamed.

Peter scolded him not to get too excited too soon. They had to see the man first.

Wade texted furiously, asking for a picture and got a message back that said, “please do not dox me.”

They got no answer until Wade promised not to dox the guy.

And then they got an image of a man with brown hair and brown eyes with olive skin. His face was remarkably square. The picture wasn’t just him, though, he had in his arms a little boy with a head covered in tight ringlets. His eyes were so dark they were nearly black and he was maybe two years old.

The caption said, “apologies, my son needed to be in the picture.”

Wade cooed and entered Dad Mode to ask how old the baby was and what he liked to do and Peter lost the fathers to that small talk for a while before Wade oh-so-casually asked, “So you feel like you’re from outer space?”

“It sounds strange,” the guy on the other said wrote back, “But I do. Like every day I wake up and look in the mirror and something is wrong. I feel like I’m always forgetting something when I leave the house. I watched the tv show of the guy who’s name was on your fliers and the kid in it reminds me so much of my son. It’s eerie. They make the same sounds. He made the same sounds before we even watched that show.”

Wade whistled.

“I think this is him, Pete,” he said. “He called Baby Yoda a ‘kid’ not a yoda.”

Peter stared. He hadn’t even caught that. That was smart as hell.

“So what now?” he asked.

Wade sniffed.

“Get Skywalker to send you a selfie,” he said.

  --

PP: Luke are you pretty right now?

LS: My face is intact

PP: take a selfie and send it to me

LS: cannot do that. Face is intact is a baseline situation. Let me find an old one. Oh, they all have my ex in them. This is awkward.

PP: it doesn’t matter I can crop it.

LS: no I have to be cute or I’ll perish hold on

PP: are you sure you’re not Johnny Storm?

LS: yes, he’s got loads of muscles. Sent.

 Selfie acquired.

Luke looked very smiley in it. His eyes were blown out from the lighting, but it showed his sloping smile and his low, back-set dimples. Peter sent it to Wade. Wade sent it to his new friend.

They waited.

They waited five minutes.

Then ten.

Then half an hour.

Then nearly two.

And finally, Wade’s phone rang. He picked it up and set it on speaker so that Peter could hear.

“Hello?” Wade said.

There was a long pause.

“Where did you get that picture?” a low, almost smoky voice demanded on the other side.

“A friend,” Wade said sleazily. “You know him? He’s a cute little thing, ain’t he?”

It took the dude on the other side of the line worryingly long to respond.

“What do you want?” he finally asked.

Wade brought his head down in interest.

“What’re you willing do to?” he asked.

They waited. Peter didn’t know what was taking this guy so long to—

“Anything.”

Ah.

Okay. That.

That sounded about right.

Wade cackled.

“You know his name?” he asked.

“I do,” the man said.

“What’s his name then, pal?” Wade asked.

“It’s none of your fucking business.”

Holy shit. Holy shit. Peter clutched the back of the couch. Wade was grinning so hard, Peter could see it through his mask.

“You want him, you need to show me that you know who he is,” Wade said. “I ain’t got ‘im here, but I know where he is. Come on, big boy. Who is he?”

Peter could hear the man take in a deep, shaky breath.

“His name is Luke,” Din fucking Djarin, the Mandalorian himself, said.

  --

Din fucking Djarin’s name at the moment was Danny Jabaran. He stood six feet tall with a medium build and that baby of his in his arms.

He was not afraid of Wade.

He was not afraid of Peter.

The suits didn’t scare him; this man was a space warrior. The leader of the space warriors. Peter was humbled to stand in his presence, old jeans and tattoos and all.

“Vigilantes,” he acknowledged.

“Deadpool,” Wade said, offering a hand. “And this is?”

“Grogu,” Djarin said.

Baby Yoda lifted his big liquid eyes up to Wade and blinked twice. Then he wriggled around and hid in Djarin’s neck. Djarin put a hand on his back and didn’t drop eye contact.

“Tell me everything,” Djarin said.

  --

Ned screamed. Michelle screamed. Peter reminded them that he had neighbors and invited Mr. Mand’alor to sit on the couch for a bit while he called Luke.

Michelle claimed the spot next to Djarin and asked Baby Yoda Grogu for his little hand. He studied her and hid again, making a prolonged sound of distress that Djarin cut off by saying, “Hey. Manners.”

This somehow made baby Grogu turn back to Michelle to stare at her offered hand.

He took it. She shook with him and then took hers away.

Grogu perked up and reached for it again.

“You’re the Mandalorian,” Ned said.  

Djarin looked right at him.

“A Mandalorian,” he corrected.

Ned blinked back tears.

“You’re so cool,” he creaked.

Djarin frowned.

“You...are too?” he tried.

Ned wept into a fist.

Peter left them to call Luke in his bedroom. Luke picked up on the third ring with the start of an ingrained greeting that sounded a whole lot like a customer service recording. He caught himself, though.

“I have someone I’d like you to talk to,” Peter said. “I think you might want to sit down.”

Luke’s unusual quiet on the other side made Peter grin.

“Are you sitting?” he asked.

“I’m sitting.”

“Alright, one moment,” Peter said, walking out into the living room. Djarin had edged far, far away from Ned, as far as he possibly could without being rude. He looked up when Peter came over and sat down on the arm next to him.

“Say hi,” Peter said.

Djarin frowned at him and then the phone.

“Who’s that?” he asked.

Peter waited. Djarin lifted his head over to see the phone’s screen.

“Hello?” he tried.

“Din?”

The Spidey Sense crashed through Peter like a tidal wave.

Djarin had gone completely still.

“Din? Is that you? Can you hear me?”

“Shit,” Djarin said, lifting a hand to cover his eyes. “Goddamnit. Jesus.”

“DIN.”

“Dank Fucking Farrik.”

“Oh my god.”  

Baby Grogu’s face snapped toward the phone with huge eyes. He grabbed at Djarin’s collar, then his jaw and started bouncing a little in his arms.

“Bu?” he asked.

Djarin couldn’t make himself move.

“Grogu?” Luke asked. “Hey, baby, is that you, bubba?”

Grogu grabbed Djarin’s face urgently, so that he couldn’t hide his raw eyes anymore.

He pointed at the phone.

“Yeah, I hear ‘im, kid,” Djarin said.

“MMMMM. Gib.”

“Ah. That’s not ours. We don’t grab. We ask,” Djarin reminded as Grogu pleaded for the phone. Peter snickered and gave it to him. He just held it, staring.

“Do you wanna see him?” Peter asked. “Luke, can we maybe video chat?”

“Y-yeah,” Luke said. “Hold on. Oh god, my face. Uh, hey Din are you still near-sighted, hon?”

Djarin huffed a laugh that turned into a whole-body tremor.

“I got contacts,” he said a little hysterically.

“You got WHAT?” Luke yipped, “Okay, no. No, I gotta. Be still, this heart. Okay let me just take off the butterflies. On moment, Grogu, Daddy’s just gotta dunk his face in the damn sink.”

MJ bounced her eyebrows at Peter as he gently took the phone back from Grogu and tapped on the camera. He offered it back the kid and received a deep gaze of wonder in return. Djarin turned the screen right-side up in his hands.

Luke finally turned his camera on and revealed himself to be very swollen in the jaw with damp hair and a cut very close to the rim of his left eye.

Grogu screeched.

Luke laughed.

“Look at you,” he said, “I’m gonna cry. Oh my god. Where’re your ears, pal?”

Grogu analyzed this reaction for 2 full seconds and then shoved the camera right into his dad’s forehead. Djarin took it from him and liberated himself so that he could see Luke who was clutching at his face, absolutely already sobbing, bless him.

He looked up to see Grogu and instead got Djarin and finally just broke right in half.

Peter swallowed back the growing lump in his throat. His eyes were starting to warm a little.

Djarin found a watery smile in himself.

“I know you’re not cryin’ because of me,” he said gently.

“Where’s your helmet?” Luke sobbed, wiping viciously at his eyes. “People are watching, you harlot.”

“I know,” Djarin said. “I lost it.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Luke.”

“This is all my fault. I should’ve—I should’ve—”

“Luke,” Djarin said again, full of warmth, “You died for us.”

Luke shook harder than ever.

“There is no greater sacrifice a warrior can make,” Djarin told him. “I was honored for you to have made it for me and our son. This has always been the Way.”

“This is the Way,” Luke stammered.

“I missed you,” Djarin said. “Where in God’s name have you been?”

“I was a preschool teacher in the Bronx, man, I dunno what happened,” Luke said tipping his face up to force the tears back in.

“In the Bronx? Where?”

“Uh, off Allerton and Lurting?”

Djarin started shaking with laugher.

“I work off Laconia and Mace,” he said.

“You what?”

“We’ve been blocks apart this whole time.”

Awwwwww.

“I’m going to stab myself,” Luke moaned. “I’m going to stab myself in the arm. I was right there and I sold out for my part-time gig barely weeks ago. Oh my god. I’m going to—move, old man, I’m suffering—Wait. Din, did you find your parents?”

Djarin stood up and held the phone out straight.

“Where are you right now?” he asked.

  --

Look at all these people hugging each other.

Look at them crying all over. There was a baby in there, wailing because he was so happy to be back in the arms of his other dad.

Aww. AWWWW. Peter was getting emotional again, he was going to see himself out.

“Wait. Peter.”

He looked up to find Luke holding a hand to him.

“Thank you,” he said. “You really are a superhero, you know that?”

Yeah.

Sometimes, he did.

 --

 The city had plenty of problems as it was, yeah, more now with a bunch of jedi running around, linking up with each other and spreading memory like mushroom spores. But it didn’t feel that much different.

What it felt like now was Ned showing Grogu how to hold his hand at the seeing stone in the funeral home’s back yard to make the Force happen while Obi-Wan reported cheerfully that the cat perched on it was still not levitating.

It also felt like watching Luke freak out over text to Ned and Michelle about his ex losing their mind at him dumping them after two years to marry this random mechanic within a week of getting together.

Peter got to see this from new angles, too, one of which was the bottom of the funeral home’s attic stairs, which Anakin Skywalker liked to sit on while his grandkids—both Grogu and Han Solo and Leia Organa (pardon, Leia Naberry)’s son—came over to show him things that he was very well aware of. These were stolen from him by Auntie Ahsoka and her friends who Ned knew and Peter did not.

And there was something warming about how even these folks—people from a galaxy far, far away, occasionally needed a Spiderman.

   --

[ptergwen]

he’s gonna love you

w/c: 3k

summary: two of peter’s favorite people in the world meet for the first time

a/n: i started writing this like a year ago but i forgot? anyway i think it’s cute so i came back to it and also we’re pretending tony didn’t d word

-

“how would you feel about meeting mr. stark?”

peter drops the question out of no where. not a “hi” or “how’s it going?” first. you nearly choke on your sip of coffee. gulping, you stare up at him and push the cup to the side.

“what?” peter asks innocently, taking his seat across from you on the cafeteria bench. “he needs my help with something after school. whatever it is might take a while,” he explains while opening up a bag of chips from the vending machine. “instead of rain checking the date we had, i figured you could go with me.”

tony stark. he wants you to meet the tony stark. one of your idols and the world’s greatest hero. it sounds completely unreal.

“are- are you being serious right now? you wanna bring me to meet tony stark?” you can’t even believe you just said that. “uh,” peter finishes chewing before looking up at you. he gives you a small but hopeful smile. “yeah.” you shake your head at your boyfriend in disbelief. you’re really getting to spend your afternoon with iron man.

who else besides peter can say they’ve done that?

“unless you don’t want to,” he teases to see your reaction. “no! of course i want to! he’s my favorite avenger. how could you even say that?” you steal one of peter’s chips and crunch on it dramatically. pretending you hurt him, he puts his hand over his heart.

“first of all, you owe me a chip. second, what about me?” “it would be biased if spider-man were my favorite! you know he’s yours, too.” his salty expression changes to a thoughtful one. you have a point. “besides thor, but i guess that’s fair... ugh.”

peter glances at the cafeteria clock. “i gotta go to the library. i’ll meet you by your locker later, okay?” he leans across the table and kisses your cheek, then bends down to grab his stuff. “see you later, spidey,” you call after peter before he walks too far. he shoots you a poorly attempted wink and takes off for the library.

t-minus two hours until it’s tony time.

you leave your last class right as the bell rings, walking through the halls faster than usual. it still hasn’t sunk in what you’re about to do. peter is already waiting in front of your locker when you get there.

“look at you being early for once,” you greet him. he chuckles and steps aside. “don’t get used to it.” “i wasn’t going to,” you quip, opening your locker. peter checks his phone while you swap out a few things. after closing your locker, you turn and face him.

“happy’s waiting outside whenever you’re ready.” he puts his phone back in his pocket. “he’s driving us there?” “yeah, i didn’t tell you? he picks me up most days.” peter’s arm wraps loosely around your waist, then the two of you start walking. “that’s cool. i haven’t seen him in a minute.”

“can’t relate. he practically lives at my apartment,” peter sighs, but it’s lighthearted. “i’m surprised may hasn’t asked him to move in already.” “don’t act like you don’t secretly enjoy it,” you challenge and elbow his side. his eyes dart to you as he thinks about it. “i guess i do. he does make may really happy.” you leave the conversation at that, considering you’re about to see the man in question.

peter pushes open one of the double doors that leads to the main parking lot of midtown. “ok, we’re looking for a black suv.” his arm moves so his hand is resting on your back to guide you. you squint, eyes adjusting to the sunlight and scanning for the car. “is that it? kinda sticks out since it’s taking up, like, two parking spaces.” you point to the suv. peter looks to confirm.

“yep. that’s mr. stark for you.” he deadpans. “let’s go. our chariot awaits.” giving peter a crooked smile, you let him usher you over to the car. unsurprisingly, the thing is like a magnet for the other kids outside. some even try to peek through the tinted windows and see what’s going on. you’d do the same if you were them. it isn’t every day a car like that pulls up in your school parking lot, to be fair.

“hop in before your seats get taken,” happy says, eyeing people from his rolled down window. peter ignores his sour greeting. “my day was great, happy. how was yours?” “sorry, kid. you know i get stressy with crowds.” peter nods and glances over his shoulder. after opening the backseat door and throwing his bag inside, he turns to you.

“backpack?” “why thank you.” you take your backpack off your shoulder and hand it to peter. “no need.” dropping it next to his on the floor, peter brushes his hands off like it weighed a ton. he can be such a dummy when he’s in one of his playful moods. “jeez. well, hop in,” he sarcastically repeats happy’s words from a minute ago. you salute peter and climb in, him getting in after.

the smell of leather and quiet music playing make the oversized car feel less intimidating right away. “hey, y/n. peter. seatbelts on,” happy tells you two while staring down some kids that pass by. peter nudges you to ask if you can believe this without words. you just click your tongue at him and buckle up.

“you going to the tower with peter?” happy asks you, pulling out of the parking space. “the tower? like, avengers tower? i thought the avengers moved upstate,” you look over at peter. he shrugs his shoulders. “mr. stark said they’re still renovating it or something.”

the two of you wait for happy to explain. he’s too focused on navigating his way through the messy parking lot to realize. “happy?” peter taps his shoulder. “give me a second, kid. i’m trying to make this turn,” happy mutters. you put a hand on peter’s shoulder to pull him away. you’re trying not to laugh. “oops,” he mumbles to you.

happy finally gets out of the parking lot, and you watch his face relax in the overhead mirror. you’re driving through the streets now. “the tower should be ready next month. boss is checking it out tomorrow,” he answers your question from a few minutes ago. you nod and look over at peter. he’s probably used to hearing about all this stuff.

your mind drifts off when the conversation ends, and the reality sets in. you’ll be face to face with tony stark pretty soon. this is a big deal. not just because he’s a superhero, but because he’s a huge part of peter’s life. it’s only a step below meeting may. you’ve already done that. but, you planned it weeks before it happened. there’s extra pressure with this because it’s last minute.

before you know it, you’re in the city. you zone back in to peter telling happy about patrol the other night. happy stops at a light. he looks less than interested while peter goes on about a lost puppy. he shares a look with you, but you’re too in your head to laugh.

“i was kinda sad when his owner came to get him because i would’ve taken him home.” remembering it makes him frown. “if may said it was okay,” he adds. happy rolls his eyes playfully. peter doesn’t miss his smile when he brings up may. eyes wide, he taps your shoulder.

“uh, so, we’re almost there,” he changes the subject. you blink for a few seconds and nod. “ok, cool.” “i’ll drop you kids off outside,” happy chimes in, going when the light turns green. peter furrows his eyebrows. “you’re not coming with us?” “i’m actually going out with your aunt in a few.” that makes you tune in fully.

peter doesn’t say anything, so you talk for him. “aw, that’s nice. what are you gonna do?” “dinner and a movie. classic.” happy sits up more in his seat. you glance over at peter from your peripherals. “have a good time,” he speaks up. “thanks, kid.” it would’ve been a sweet moment if peter didn’t look so moody now.

happy pulls up to the curb, unlocking your doors. peter hands you your bag before grabbing his own. “thanks for the ride,” he says and gets out of the car quickly. “yeah, thank you so much,” you tell him, getting out on peter’s side to avoid traffic. happy waves you off. “anytime. enjoy yourselves.” and he’s gone.

you stare at the empty spot the suv was just in. peter tugs at your hand from behind you. “you coming, y/n/n?” “yeah, sorry.” you take a breath and turn around, letting him lead you into the building. security already knows him, so you go straight to the elevator. peter presses the button to the top floor and leans back against the railing.

“i can’t believe may didn’t tell me. like, i thought they-“ he stops talking when he notices the look on your face. it’s like you’re about to throw up. “you okay?” you stare down at your feet. “i’m just... scared.” “why?” his hand finds yours again, loosely intertwining your fingers together. he searches for your eyes. you meet his gaze and swallow your spit.

“i’m scared he won’t like me. i mean, what if he thinks i’m stupid?” you admit, peter instantly dismissing your worries. “mr. stark? no way. i’ve already told him a lot about you.” he squeezes your hand. “he’s gonna love you, y/n.” it sounds so genuine you almost believe him. there’s still a bit of doubt in your mind. who could possibly know what tony stark is ever thinking?

but, peter’s reassurance does make you feel better. you’ll try to go easy on yourself. a smile pulling at your lips, you nod. “i hope so.” “he will,” peter repeats and smiles back. you get to the top floor about a minute later. all the nerves reenter your body. you’re pretty sure peter can sense them. literally, he can.

“think of it like this,” he murmurs to you before the elevator doors open. “he’s a middle aged guy who likes to play with robots.” “peter, stop. that’s not even... ok.” you roll your eyes, but you you find it funny. peter takes you by your hand into the main room. he’s surprised to see tony fixing a drink behind the bar. he’ll usually be working on something or going over his schedule with pepper whenever he gets here.

you clear your throat and walk with him to the bar. tony has his back to the two of you, fixing something in a glass. “hi, mr. stark,” peter greets him, eyebrows raised. “underoos. happy with you by any chance?” he replies and pours out the rest of a seltzer in his cup. this feels fake to you. “no, but i did bring someone else.” tony turns around this time. he looks amused.

“who’s this?” you’re about to introduce yourself, but he answers his own question. he tilts his head to the side. “y/n?” the fact that he knows who you are shocks you so much you can’t answer. reading your mind, peter explains. “i showed him pictures.” you nod. “uh, yeah. hi.”

“i thought it would be nice for you guys to meet,” peter tells him, a light pink setting on his cheeks. tony pats his shoulder from behind the counter. “oh, it’s a pleasure. really.” he looks over at you before turning around again. “either of you want a drink?” “mr. stark, we aren’t allowed to-“ tony fake gasps. “you think i’d give you alcohol?”

peter looks over at his glass. tony notices and picks it up, swishing around the liquid inside. “that’s cranberry juice.” you perk up, laughing to yourself. he’s really not that scary after all. peter clenches his teeth. “oh.” “made myself a little mocktail. you know what that is, underoos?” tony shakes his head, looking back at you.

“clearly not,” you joke, tony scoffing in agreement. peter’s face scrunches up in confusion. “you just met and you’re ganging up on me?” “relax. i’m gonna make you kiddos your juice.” tony gets two other glasses from the rack. you’re not too intimidated now that you’ve joked around with him. peter is happy to see that. he’d prefer it to not be at the expense of him, though.

“so, what did you need my help with?” peter asks while tony pours juice for the two of you. he raises a finger. “ah. i was gonna have you work on a prototype for your new suit with me.” he hands you both the cups, peter taking a sip and eyeing him expectantly. “but we shouldn’t bore y/n with that. we’ll do it tomorrow, yeah?”

“i don’t mind, actually. it would be kinda cool to watch,” you jump in. peter pokes your side with a grin. “thanks, y/n/n.” good thing you’re drinking the juice or else you’d be giggly. “let’s hop to it, then. lab time.” tony rubs his hands together and steps through the small door behind the bar.

you and peter leave your backpacks on the swirly seats and follow him to the lab. tony lets you bring your drinks, which peter whispers is something he never does. he claps twice and the lights turn on. you’re amazed by what you see.

there’s a view of earth and one of space projected in the center of the room. old iron man suits are lined up, and one looks like it’s in the process of being made. random parts and crumbled notes are scattered around. avengers equipment is stored in a safeguarded area next to the suits. you’re really in iron man’s lab.

“whew, excuse the mess,” tony says to you on his way over to a plushy desk chair. you and peter sit in ones identical to it. peter is on tony’s left, and you’re next to peter. “friday, open file 7p.” “yes, boss.” a new projection replaces the others. it feels like something out of a movie.

the two of them look through what tony has done so far. peter hums, squinting as he reads the coding. you’re not even going to try making sense of it. this is beyond you. it’s still interesting to see what they’ll do. he reaches over and points at the screen, then drags his finger down. it gets picked up as scrolling. peter seems to approve of most of it until he’s almost at the bottom.

“there’s only one thing i wanna change,” he tells tony, waiting for the go ahead to say it. tony raises an eyebrow. “my webs. they haven’t been... sticky enough lately.” “you wanna change the formula?” now they’re speaking words you understand. you try to keep up. “yeah, but i don’t know what’s missing,” peter taps his fingers on the table.

“tell me what formula you’re using,” tony crosses his arms and turns to face peter in his chair. “polyvinyl acetate.” you’re lost again. “break it down, will you?” peter stills his hand and tries to recall it. “carbon four hydrogen eight oxygen two?”

you know enough about chemistry to understand chemical formulas. that can’t be it. “i think that’s wrong,” you cut in quietly. they both turn to you. tony is pleasantly surprised, but peter is a little shocked. “what do you think it is, y/n?” tony prompts you. “i’m not sure, but it sounds like there’s way too much hydrogen. it could be making your webs more... watery.”

peter thinks it over, and his eyes widen. “wait, you’re right. it should be hydrogen six.” he lets out a laugh of disbelief. “how do you know more about my webs than me?” “basic chemistry, i guess.” you do your best to bite back a smile. you just outsmarted two geniuses. tony swats at peter’s arm to get his attention.

“keep that in your head. make some new web fluid tomorrow.” “i will.” peter bumps your knee under the table. “or i’ll ask y/n to help me.” “please, i’m barely good at this stuff.” you shake your head. “no, he’s right. you’re pretty smart, kid. neither of us could figure it out.” this is the first thing you’ve heard tony say today that wasn’t sarcastic. that must mean he’s serious. tony stark called you smart.

the three of you spend a few more hours tweaking minor things for peter’s new suit, each of them asking you for input from time to time. you get to be a temporary avenger. tony tells you inside secrets about the team, too. all about their powers, funny stories, you hear some of everything. he only stops when friday says it’s eight o’clock.

“i was supposed to let you go at seven. whoops.” tony swipes his hand, making the projection disappear. peter’s face falls. “aw, mr. stark. can we stay a little longer?” “this is really fun,” you say in the same whiny voice. he lets out a breath. “don’t you two have better things to do? eat, homework, watch tv?”

before either of you can protest, he pulls out his phone. “i’m telling happy to come get you.” “he can’t. he’s...” peter sighs. “he’s on a date with may.” tony snorts and shoves his phone back in his pocket. “that’s still happening? i’ll drive you, then.” “but you never drive me.” peter gives him a strange look. tony gestures you. “well, we have a very special guest today. special guest means special circumstances.”

each of you get up from the table. tony goes and opens up the door to the lab. you and peter stay back a few seconds. you’re grinning to yourself about the day. peter leans in close to you and presses a kiss to the side of your head, his lips lingering before he pulls away. his arm finds its place around your waist. you let yourself relax in his hold.

“told you he was gonna love you.”

[themetaphorgirl]

alright but can i request a patron saint hotch loopy on day quill one shot?? bc i would love to read that even if it takes like 3 years to get around to it 🥺🥺🥺

did I get in the mood to write something cuddly and kind of silly with lots of Alex and Aaron: The Wonder Twins vibes???

yes I did. also I wrote over half of this on my phone during my break at work.

----------

“...so when you think about it colloquially, it’s perfectly acceptable to refer to the monster as Frankenstein, so-“

Alex moved Spencer’s glass of orange juice out of the way before he could knock it over with an overenthusiastic wave of his hand. “JJ, what are you doing?” she asked, exasperated.

JJ reached into her cereal bowl, picked up a couple of pieces, and tossed it into an empty mug. “There’s too much cereal in my lucky charms, I only wanted the marshmallows,” she said.

“You can’t eat just marshmallows, Jennifer.”

“I’m not. I got donuts too.”

“Hotch wasn’t here to stop her,” Emily snickered. 

Alex sighed. “Where is Hotchner?” she said. “It’s not like him to be late.” 

“He said he slept through his alarm and he’d meet us here,” Derek said, stabbing his fork into a hashbrown. 

“That’s also not like Hotch,” Alex said. She caught Spencer before he could topple out of his chair onto the floor. “Darling, I’m so glad you’re this enthusiastic at seven in the morning, but please sit down.”

Spencer obeyed, sliding down from his knees to sit on his bottom. “I got the wrong juice, I don’t like this kind,” he said. “I got the kind with pulp.”

“Why didn’t you get the kind you like?” Alex asked. 

“Hotch gets it for me because I’m too short to see the labels. I didn’t know what I was getting myself into.”

Alex pulled her phone out of her skirt pocket. “He hasn’t texted me or the group chat,” she said. “It’s not like him to be late.”

“Should we be worried? I feel like we should be worried,” Penelope said. 

“We don’t need to worry,” Alex said. “Spencer, what are you doing?”

“Getting the pulp out of my juice. I shouldn’t have to chew juice.”

“Please put the spoon down.”

“I’ll get you juice,” Penelope promised.

“Thank you,” Alex said. “And can you please get something for JJ that isn’t dehydrated marshmallows?”

“I like them.”

“Eat a fruit, Jennifer!”

Derek paused as Penelope left the table. “Uh...we might need to worry about Hotch,” he said. 

Alex twisted around in her seat to look behind her. “Oh, fuck,” she sighed. 

Hotch’s tie was knotted wrong, leaving one end of the tie dangling by his belt buckle, and his blazer was misbuttoned. His dark hair flopped over his eyes, still sleep-mussed, and his backpack was unzipped. “Hey, guys,” he said. “Sorry I’m late.” He tried to hang his backpack on the empty chair next to Alex but missed completely, sending it crashing to the floor. “Well, shit.”

“What the hell is wrong with you, dude?” Emily said. 

Hotch blinked. “I overslept,” he said, rubbing his ear. “What time is it?”

“Almost time to go to homeroom,” Alex said. “Are you okay?”

He kept rubbing his ear. “Huh?” he said. He sat down heavily next to Alex. “Yeah, yeah, I’m okay. Do I have time to eat?” 

JJ slid her mug of cereal over to him. “You can have the rest of my lucky charms,” she offered. 

Hotch scooped a handful of dry cereal into his mouth and frowned. “What happened to all the marshmallows?” he asked. 

“I ate them.”

“You can have my juice,” Spencer offered. 

Hotch reached around Alex, picked up the glass, and took a swig. “Ugh, there’s stuff in it,” he complained. “I don’t want to chew my juice.”

“That’s what I said!” Spencer said. 

Alex frowned. “I don’t think you’re okay,” she said. She touched the back of her hand to his forehead. “Yikes, Aaron. You’re burning up.”

“Hm?” he said. He coughed, a thick sound rattling deep in his chest. “I’m okay. I drank like...half a bottle of DayQuil.”

“I can tell,” she said, poking at the damp orange stain on his uniform shirt. He squinted down at it and frowned. “Also, drinking half a bottle of DayQuil doesn’t mean you’re okay. I think that’s the opposite of okay.”

“I’ll be fine,” Hotch said. “I have a test in second period I can’t miss.”

Emily caught his arm across the table. “Stop, stop, stop,” she said. “Do you know you’re about to pour your juice into your cereal?”

Hotch paused long enough for Alex to carefully take the glass out of his hand while he blinked in confusion. “Maybe you should make up the test later,” she suggested. 

“No, I can handle a test,” he said. He blinked, then clapped a hand over his face. “Oh, shit. I think I only put one contact in this morning.��� He rubbed the heel of his palm into his eye. “Shit. Aw, yikes.”

“You need to go back to bed,” Alex said. “Or the nurse’s office.”

He swatted at her hand. “No, I don’t, Alexandra,” he said. “It’s just a chest cold. Stop treating me like Spencer.”

Spencer scowled. “I think I’m insulted by that,” he said. 

Alex put Spencer’s fork back in his hand. “Eat your breakfast,” she said. “Listen, Hotch, I can’t stop you if you want to go to class. But nobody’s going to judge you if you stay in your room and rest.”

Hotch coughed into his elbow. “I’m gonna get a Red Bull,” he said, pushing himself out of his chair and nearly knocking it over in the process. 

“Oh, he’s definitely sick,” Derek said. “You hear his Virginia accent coming out? He sounds like Colonel Sanders.”

“Don’t worry, Al, I’ll keep an eye on him,” Emily said. 

“Thanks,” she said. “Spencer, you have to drink your juice. You and Hotch have no immune systems and if he gets sick, you’re going to get sick, and I can’t deal with both of you coughing up a lung.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Spencer said. “Although vitamin C-“

“Drink your juice.”

By the time breakfast was over Alex was confident that Hotch wasn’t going to last the whole day. His cough was deep and persistent, and he kept absentmindedly rubbing his ears. She couldn’t exactly blame him- she’d pulled similar stunts herself when a big test or project was coming up- but this was more than a mild cold. Most likely he’d make it to lunch before he relented. 

To her surprise, it was even sooner. 

She got to chapel early and pulled out her book to read, but she nearly dropped it when Emily’s voice cut through the soft chatter of the hall. 

“Hey, Alex, come get your twin!”

Alex picked up her book and set it back beside her. “For the last time, Emily, stop telling everybody that Hotch and I are twins,” she said. She stopped. “Oh, no.”

Hotch was leaning heavily on Emily’s shoulder, his eyes glazed over. “Hey, I think I need to sit down,” he said. 

“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock,” Emily huffed, struggling under his weight. “You shouldn’t have gone to class in the first place.”

“I had a test,” he said. 

Alex crossed her arms. “Yeah?” she said. “How’d that go for you, bubba?”

“I’m not sure, I don’t remember taking the test,” he confessed. “I remember sitting down at my desk and then...everything got kind of blurry.”

Alex sighed. “Please tell me you’re going back to your room to rest,” she said. 

“I mean...it’s not that bad.” Hotch said. “I’ve been sicker before.”

“That’s not reassuring.”

Emily scanned the chapel doors. “Oh, wow, is that Haley Brooks over there?” she said. “You should go over and say hello. Haley! Hi, Haley!” 

“No!” Hotch said. “Jesus, Emily, I don’t want to talk to her right now, I look like shit!”

“Then you should definitely go back to your room before she sees you,” Emily said. She gave him a gentle push towards the back exit doors. “Come on, hurry up.”

“Do you want me to go with you?” Alex called, but he was out the door already, his still-unzipped backpack dangling off one shoulder. 

Emily tilted her head. “I don’t think he heard you,” she said. “He looks like death warmed over through. I’m kind of worried. Which means your spidey-sense must have bypassed tingling and gone straight to exploding.”

“I should have gone with him,” Alex said. “Although I’m not sure I would be able to explain missing classes.”

“Just tell your teachers you have to take care of your brother,” Emily suggested. 

Alex rolled her eyes. “Listen, I don’t know you and Dave keep telling everybody we’re related,” she said. “We’re in different grades. We have different last names.”

“C’mon, it’s fun, you’re the Wonder Twins,” Emily said. She squished Alex’s cheeks and laughed. “You look enough alike to pass for siblings.”

“Nobody thinks that,” Alex said flatly, batting her hand away. “We’d better go sit before chapel starts.”

She kept her phone close through chapel and her third period class. He didn’t text her, but that wasn’t reassuring either. No news wasn’t necessarily good news.

The bell rang at the end of third period, but she hesitated before she started the walk towards the dining hall. She tapped her fingertips against the back of her phone case, and after a moment she typed out a text. Her phone buzzed seconds later with an answer.

Jamie <3

11:26am

yeah I figured youd want to check on him. dont worry about the baby i’ll make sure he eats a vegetable. love you!!!! 

Alex felt the back of her neck heat up as she smiled at the screen. The whole love thing was still shiny and new and made little sparks prickle at the nape of her neck. 

She slung the strap of her satchel across her shoulder and made the trek across campus to Lincoln House. Hotch had given her a spare key fob- Derek was constantly losing and finding his, resulting in multiple replacements floating around- and she let herself into the quiet lobby. Hopefully there wouldn’t be too many people around.

“Ah, Miss Miller. What are you doing over here? Shouldn’t you be in the dining hall?”

Alex jumped. She was not expecting to see Mr. Gideon standing in the lobby and staring at her. “Checking on my brother, he’s, uh, he’s sick,” she blurted out.

“Oh, the big one or the little one?” he asked. 

She blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You know,” he said. “Aaron or Spencer?”

“It’s, uh, it’s the big one this time,” she said.

Mr. Gideon nodded sagely. “Your twin,” he said. “Well, go on up. Hope he feels better soon.”

He walked out to his office and closed the door; she sighed heavily. Maybe Emily and Dave were on to something after all.

She made her way up the stairs to the seventh floor and knocked lightly on his closed door. “Hotch?” she called. “It’s Alex. I just wanted to check on you.” He didn’t answer. “Hotch?” She tried the handle. “Oh, of course you locked the door.” She pulled a bobby pin out of her hair and stuck it in the keyhole. 

The lock popped easily after a bit of fiddling and she opened the door. “Oh, Jesus Christ, Hotchner,” she sighed. 

His unzipped backpack had dumped half its contents in the middle of the floor when he’d dropped it, along with his uniform blazer and his right shoe. Hotch was sprawled out on his bed on top of the covers, his long gangly legs dragging on the floor and his left shoe still on. He was still wearing his uniform and his rarely-worn glasses perched at a crooked angle on his nose, threatening to fall off at any moment as he snored. 

“You’re dead to the world, aren’t you, bubba?” she said aloud. She set her satchel and blazer down on Hotch’s desk and sat on the edge of his bed. His breathing was shallow and congested, and his face was flushed red. “Hotch. Hotchner. Wake up for a second.” She pinched him lightly and his eyes shot open. “Hey, good, you’re awake.”

“What the fuck?” he mumbled. He rubbed his eyes, knocking his glasses sideways. “How did you get in here?”

“Picked the lock with a bobby pin,” she said.

He scrunched up his nose. “Like Annie Drew?”

“It’s Nancy Drew, and maybe that’s where I learned it from, I read a lot of mystery novels when I was an impressionable middle schooler,” she said. She tucked her legs underneath her and touched the back of her hand to his cheek. “How are you feeling?”

“Like hot garbage,” he said. “This cold is kicking my ass.”

“I don’t think you have a cold, bubba, I think you have bronchitis,” she said. “Did you take anything when you got back here or did you just crash?”

“Well, I’ve had most of a bottle of DayQuil today,” he said. He struggled to sit up. “You know what happens when you drink most of a bottle of DayQuil?”

“No, what happens?”

“Nothing good, I’ll tell you that for free,” he said. 

Alex winced in sympathy. “You threw up?”

He ran his hands through his hair and dragged his palms over his face. “It was neon orange, Al,” he said, slightly muffled. 

“That’s no good,” she said. “Did you-”

He broke into a cough, thick and heavy and rattling in his lungs, and Alex rubbed his back. “Hey, you’re okay,” she said gently. “Take a deep breath. You’re okay,”

It took a moment for him to settle down and breathe normally again; his glasses tilted drunkenly on his nose and his eyes were watering. “That sucked,” he rasped. 

“Yeah, I bet,” she said. “You’ve got the sore throat, right? Feels like you swallowed broken glass?”

“I was going to say barbed wire, but yeah,” he said. 

Alex squeezed his knee. “Get out of your uniform and lie down,” she said. “I’ll go get you something to drink. How much water have you had today?”

“If Red Bull counts, then I’ve had two waters.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’ll go get you water and a gatorade,” she said. “You get changed.”

She started to leave the room. “Hey, Alex?” he asked. She paused in the doorway. “Can you get me a purple one?”

“Yes, I’ll get you a purple gatorade.”

“The light purple, not the dark purple,” he called after her.

“I remember, I remember,” she called back. 

She went down to the vending machines and got him two bottled waters and a light purple gatorade. For all his mature-for-his-age, old soul vibe, Hotch was as hard to handle as Spencer when he wasn’t feeling well.

His door was cracked when she got back to his room, but she paused. He’d changed into flannel pajama pants and he was struggling into one of his wrestling tee shirts. Alex bit back a wince and ducked back into the hallway. She rarely saw the scars on his back, but he usually kept them well hidden and it never got easier to see it. He didn’t like to talk about it, and she didn’t blame him.

When she was sure the coast was clear she stepped back into the room. Hotch sat on his bed, his shoulders slumped and his head in his hands. “Headache?” she asked as she set the bottles down on his nightstand. 

“It feels like there’s a rock concert playing directly in my brain,” he said.

She went into his bathroom and dug around in the medicine cabinet. He didn’t have much for himself; it was mostly medicine they kept on hand for Spencer. “Oh, I can give you the big boy ibuprofen instead of the chewable stuff,” she teased. She set the bottle of ibuprofen down with the drinks. “This first though. Hold still.”

She set the thermometer in his ear and he jumped. “Ow,” he complained. “You could have warned me.”

“If I warned you, you’d try to argue,” she said. It beeped and she held it out so he could see the readout. “A hundred point four. You’re not going to class today, or tomorrow either.”

He rolled his eyes. “At least I got my test done,” he said. 

“How do you think you did?” she asked. 

“I don’t think I failed.”

Alex took his hand so she could place the pills in his hand, then opened one of the bottles of water. “Take these. Drink all of this. And then go to sleep,” she said. 

“I’m not tired, I had so much DayQuil,” he complained as he popped the pills in his mouth. 

“Which you’ve already puked back up,” she pointed out. “You need to get some sleep.”

He chugged a third of the water and paused to cough. “I just need to rest,” he said. “Can you hand me my laptop.”

“No.”

Hotch scowled. “Alexandra. Give me my laptop,” he said. “I have an essay due on Friday.” 

She grabbed his laptop and wrestled it into her school bag. “You can have it back when you’re not running a fever,” she said. 

“Alex!” he whined. “I need to work on that.” She bit back a laugh. “Why are you smiling like that?”

“Sorry, it’s hard to take you seriously with your nerd glasses on,” she said. He huffed, which turned into another cough. “Seriously, Aaron. You need to take it easy. And it’s school policy that you can’t attend classes until you’ve been fever-free for twenty-four hours.” He rubbed his ear. “Besides, you know Spencer’s going to try to spend quality time with you, and he’s not going to be able to handle it if he catches what you have. The more you rest and take care of yourself, the sooner you’ll get over it.”

Hotch sighed. “Fine,” he said. “You win.”

“I usually do.”

“You just had to play the Spencer card.” 

“I was saving it just in case.”

Hotch set the empty water bottle back on the nightstand and shifted around until he was under the covers. “Are you going back to class?” he asked. “Lunch is almost over.”

He sounded nonchalant, but he was avoiding her eyes and tugging at a loose thread on his comforter. “I can stay a while longer,” she said. “Besides, if anybody asks where I was, Gideon can tell them I was with you. You know he thinks we’re twins too?”

“For such a brilliant man, he’s kind of clueless,” Hotch said. “I’m not going to sleep, but I’ll rest, okay?”

“Sure,” Alex said. “Do you want to watch something?” She pulled at the laces of her ankle boots. “Do you want to watch wrestling?”

“I don’t watch wrestling.”

Alex looked him up and down. “We all know you’re a secret wrestling fan,” she said. “And even if you say you’re not, I can read your tee shirt.”

“No one ever wants to watch wrestling with me,” he said.

“Yes, well, you’re sick, you should get to watch what you want,” she said. She set her boots aside and handed him the remote. “Now scoot over.”

He paused, the remote balanced in his hand as the TV blinked on. “Why?” he asked.

“Because I said so,” she said. “I mean it! Scoot over.”

He obeyed, still clearly confused, and she pulled and tugged at him until they both fit on his narrow twin bed, his head resting on her stomach. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “Wow, you really are mostly limbs, aren’t you?”

“I’ve had a couple of growth spurts,” he said. “You’re sure you want to watch wrestling with me?”

“Go for it,” she said. 

Truthfully she had no desire to watch wrestling, but she knew it would make him happy, and when he was this sick he deserved things that would make him happy. She ran her fingers through his thick hair, and before long she heard him snoring again, the sound thick and rattling in his lungs. When she was sure he was asleep she tugged his glasses off and set them aside on the nightstand. Most likely he would wake up cranky and groggy and he’d try to argue that he could go to class, but for now she could keep him calm and quiet, and hopefully the sleep would help. 

“Maybe you’ll be a little bit less of an absolute disaster when you wake up,” she said, and she kept stroking his hair while he slept. 

[bisexualoftheblade-old]

how many wips do you have? like what are they all, and not the number of wips in a fandom? what are all the names?

okay. fuck you. fuck you so much. fuck you.

i’m putting this under a read more cut no one else deserves to see this shit. a lot of these are requests, and for those i will just write out the request itself

Shadowhunters:

domestic polycule fluff with tem, jessa, and will because im not a coward

Supernatural

- hehe hoho i request destiel hehehe

- request 61/? cai cai cai cai i need you to rewrite the destiel scene but yk. GOOD. not like i'm in the know about the spn fandom or anything, it's been years for me. but DO IT

Bright Sessions

- caleb/adam grisha AU

- mark bryant vs. united states aka sue the AM

- caleb/adam college fluff

Umbrella Acaademy

- request 31/? i want a ben and klaus drabble please spare me some brotherly bickering

- AND SO BEGINS NIGHT 4 with request 13/? oooh oooh can i get a raymond and allison playlist??? i think their vibes together would SLAP

- hi there night 2 is technically morning 3 but who's counting not me anyway request 5/? can i get a ben moodboard? gotta rep my tua bb

Percy Jackson

- request 9/? can i get a percabeth moodboard or quote edit?? like god they're the og couple goals take me back to high school cai

- For the 100 follower things :D Jercy getting caught in the rain

- request 29/? a drabble about literally anything to do with pjo. i’ll be happy with anyone and anything i’m love these children

- *somersaults in like I’m a real fancy acrobat* hello ello ello may I request some camp half blood chaos possible involving *does a flip* ✨side characters✨ <3

Penumbra Podcast 

- request 52/? drabble about the penumbra podcast. this is for ren bc ren likes it and i don't actually know anything about it. juno? i think? that's the one ren likes. write it for ren

- Tpp ghost hunting / buzzfeed unsolved au

- sad juno smut

- final resting place fic go brrrr

Marvel

- request 6/? i'm going to my roots y'all can i get a spider-man playlist? if not a playlist then i'd honestly be happy with literally anything involving spider-man

- request 15/? i'm going crazy this is recorded evidence of me actually losing it ANYWAY can i get a quote edit for something from iron man? literally anything that man says is gold so cai's choice :D he deserved better in endgame i'm still bitter

- request 42/? do another spidey thing that differs from the other spidey thing

- request 73/? you have Opinions. rant about infinity way and/or endgame. go.

- request 74/? quote edit for deadpool!!

- spideytorch relationship character study

- peter parker as a tired grad student monitoring the young avengers (send help)

Six of Crows

- okay listen i wasn't going to request anything bc i worry about you but also? if you want to/have the time hit me with a playlist for our girl nina zenik

- request 43/? fuckin give me the ending anya should have had. she is alive and with her new son and having a great time

- request 45/? inej moodboard?

- request 47/? will you make literally any meme of your choosing for six of crows?

- request 48/? write a drabble for kaz, my favorite bastard

- okay so i don't actually like nina or mattias that much but i still wanna hear about your thoughts (and also see if you'll change my mind)

- kaz brekker turning 18 fic. birthday party, everyone singing, whole shebang. i need it stat

- religious trauma fic aka i started shipping kaz/alina/inej and i can’t stop

- kaz trauma soup (he has D.I.D. and you can’t prove me wrong)

- my two redacted fics for @grishaversebigbang​

- wesper fake dating

- six of crows bright sessions crossover: everyone gets therapy

TMA

- uhh... s1 gang having a nice time? melanie getting to have some Pride™️? some "fun" horror thing?

- request 7/? spare steph and jason bonding? please sir? spare some for a humble child such as myself?

- okay so this was meant for night 3 but i had midterm shit SO this is honorary night 3 let's DO THIS request 8/? i want a moodboard of extremely out of context magnus archives shit like i mean confuse the FUCK out of me i don't go here i know Nothing about it

- request 11/? OKAY so i need tim stoker meeting tim drake now i need my timmy to meet your tim plus i want to see character differences no i'm not trying to create a tim stoker in my head so i can read a's fic while NOT thinking of tim drake whaaaaaat you're crazy

- request 18(i think)/? i need a quote edit of every time within the first like. 15 eps of tam where jon is like “sounds fake but go off” thank u bb

- request 40/? i challenge you to write a tma drabble based only on the episodes i've heard. i'm currently halfway through episode 23

- Jon being lovingly bullied into taking a break. I'm aware this has been written a million times but it is one of my favorite things.

- spiral!sasha AU

- extinction martin go brrrrr

- high school era timsasha. they've both been friends for years, and everyone always asks when they will be a couple. they decide to fake date, to prove everyone wrong and show what a bad couple they would be. turns out that's a bit trickier than they thought

- after sasha comes back, tim is broken. he can't let go, scared that if he looks away for even a minute he'll lose her again. sasha suggests shibari as a way for him to give up control

- sasha pov mag 19 au, sacrificing herself to save the others, knows that if she gives herself up to the not!them it will let the others live

- this is the "tim finds a polaroid of sasha" trope

- early archives days,, long nights in research,,, clothes sharing,, somft. late nights and falling asleep at their desks warm and safe in the other's presence

- two parts: timsasha as kids, each picking a constellation that is "theirs". just soft kid antics. tim at sasha's grave glancing up to see their constellations

- continuing your job’s a joke (you’re broke)

DC Comics

- TIMSTEPH HADESTOWN AU,,,

- my redacted fic for @batfam-big-bang​

- request for you to get a decent amount of sleep? serious answer, dickkori, SAL's Venus

- request 4/? timsteph morning after 👀 mayhaps?

- a concept: nonbinary stephanie brown

- teehee hi mom, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, but can i request damian angst for your accomplishments 100 followers?

- hi you can ignore my first request if you want, or you can ignore this one. but bls possibly write some bikini ra’s? -the bikini bitch

- request 27/? jay is asking through me for a jondami playlist but tbh i also want it so win win yk?

- "I don't know how to help you but I can help you find someone who does" with bruce and jason? im just craving bruce being a good day to jason for once

- “I am putting you in time out because you need to understand the consequences of your actions.” with steph and jason as dumbass disaster bi best friends pretty please?

- request 32/? timsteph patrol date!!!

- request 33/? timsteph *gala* date? mayhaps??

- request 37/? tim drake drabble but make it Edgy cai

- request 39/? drabble of a prank war between tim and damian

- joyfire cuddly fluff please? or like just any outlaw fluff if joyfire isnt your thing (feel free to add every member of the outlaws, dont feel like u gotta stick with jason, kori, roy i love them all)

- barbara and robin! jason fluff? bonding over books or something?

- request 62/? i need a drabble about the chaotic trio jason, tim, and steph i'm love them ty

- request 63/? batfam x mcu crossover. batfam meets ironfam. give me ALL the cliches. ALL OF THEM

- request 64/? young justice x young avengers - jay cuz idk SHIT about the young avengers

- request 66/? jondami moodboard pls and ty

- request 67/? timsteph moodboard!!!!!!

- request 69/? HEHEHE kinky 😏 i would v much like a timsteph drabble of the almost first time. does that make sense? like i don't want you to go all the way NSFW cuz i know that's against the rules and i'm a rule follower. but like they *almost* go all the way. this could be fade to black or some shit i don't care just make it a lil steamy and have Fun

- i request damian angst! all of it

- hmm... maybe i request? jondami?

- mayhaps,,,,some batfam,,,,,committing crimes? ily be gay do crime <3 - lu

- How about a ficlet with Steph and Cass?

Found Family Bingo Prompts

- no powers au

- tunnel

- first day

- join the club

- hurt/comfort

- experiment

- playing favorites

- hold on

- possession

- 10 o’clock

- singing

- road

- snitch

- curfew

- timer

- fantasy au

- zombie au

- dreams

- campfire

- are you okay

- movie night

- games

- scared

Miscellaneous

- a request: Write A Drabble, Coward

- is it too late to request a moodboard for me?

- request 20/? i’m going off book because i’m in a Chaotic Mood™️ can you just absolutely vibe check me like go off cai demolish me

- request 21/? i formally request that you pick a favorite cai. i don’t care what that favorite pertains to, just pick a favorite something

- request 23/? roast me

- request 24/? can i have a buzzfeed unsolved spoopy playlist but spoiler alert it’s not spoopy bc shane doesn’t believe does this make sense it has been a Day™️

- request 25/50 i want a jake and amy fic make it Soft cai i’m love them b99 is so good

- request 28/? i know nothing about the lord of the rings so make something that will confuse the shit out of me

- request 34/? malvie and jaylos moodboards 😈

- request 35/? a moodboard for the bbb mods!! perceive all of us!!!

- request 36/? moodboard for the tua mods too???? mayhaps??

- request 41/? doctor WHO? idk but i want a drabble of him and the one character i know from doctor who which is rose

- request 46/? make an alignment meme with our group, have fun!!!

- request 49/? i want you to kin assign me a character from every fandom you can/want to. go feral

- request 50!!!!/? this is a special request. the most special request. can you make a bastards tbh playlist? i want our vibes encapsulated. i want us in music form. i want to hear those songs and be like "that's me and cai" and smile.

- requests 51/? i know jack shit about good omens. explain it to me in the most confusing way possible. make me know less by the end than i know now

- request 53/? can you write a mel aesthetic? i'm Curious

- request 54/? give me a list of book recs cai i want some good book recs pls

- request 56/? edit a picture of US together too

- request 58/? oooh can i have a disney edit? like. hm. i just really love disney and i want anything to do with disney. like a quote or an aesthetic or an aesthetic edit i just want disney.

- request 59/? i would v much like a recipe for carbonara. i've never had it but it sounds fucking delicious

- request 60/? ooh hey can i get a makeup tutorial? i know you like makeup, i'm shit at doing makeup. teach me

- request 65/? i need the most emo playlist you can make that vibes with dear evan hansen thank you

- request 68/? i want a superwholock moodboard. this can be serious, with the actual fandoms in mind, or literally what the era felt like. the insanity. the horror.

- request 70/? ooh ooh ooh do you have a good bread recipe?? i wanna get that bread

- request 71/? i want a playlist with the vibes of summoning a demon. please don't ask questions. i don't have answers. and if i do, no i don't.

- For the requests, how about writing something based on a friend?

- request 75/? MMMM i want literally anything to do with natasha, pierre, and the great comet of 1812

- request 76/? i want some healthy recipes. help a girl out

- a feral bbb quote or two?

- you perceive my plant but now I dare thee to perceive mine own visage

- okay this is a two for one request. 1. you did the bee movie script so now we need a shrek two script edit 2. sleep please

- Pansexual mb for my lil queer soul?

- my (probably) final request is just for you to ramble about something, i don't really care what

- HI ILY CONGRATS AS WELL CAUSE IM LATE BUT CONGRATS. could i request a pirates of the caribbean (or just pirates) or whatever you what to do, free range.

- mood board for the beluga whales who got brought to the animal sanctuary in Iceland please?

- 100 follower request: Moodboard for my stuffed cow Oaky?

[spoondrifts]

long post ahead I'm sorry-

crack au where Jonah Magnus is a good guy but everything keeps going wrong and he spends all of his time running around trying to stop his employees from diving headfirst into their Fuck Up™ of the week

in this au Jonah is almost entirely incompetent but he's got the exasperated parent thing down enough to make up for his lack of braincells

he's also at least 7% dumber than he is in canon

s1 Jon: please call pest control there are so many worms

s1 Elias: I already did

Jon: and??

Elias: they ate them

Jon: the worms?

Elias: the pest control guys. the worms ate them

Elias spends the entirety of season 2 desperately trying to convince Jon that none of them killed Gertrude (in this au Gertrude just had a stroke or something in the tunnels). Elias stops Jon from destroying the table but a week later something heavy falls on it and the NotThem escapes anyway. Elias bashes in Leitner's head with a pipe after mistaking him for the monster and Jon gets framed.

now Elias has to convince this hunter that Jon is innocent while Jon runs around and harasses various fear avatars (who are all very amused with Elias' wayward Archivist). Jon assumes Elias knows nothing about all this bullshit because Elias is just his weird and uptight boss who accidentally killed someone, he can't possibly know that there are literally fear gods ruling over them

olive ⚰ has named the group 'Avatars ✨'

JMagnus 👀: Jude please don't hurt him. I'll explain everything when he gets back to the Institute.

🔥: too late

JMagnus 👀: What?

🔥: too late

🔥: burned him

[JMagnus 👀 is typing]

JMagnus 👀: Where is he now.

🔥: going to mike

JMagnus 👀: Mike Crew???

🔥: ya

Elias RACES to Mike's house but he. he fucking misses them. the Beholding helpfully tells him that they're all going back to the Institute so Basira and Daisy can interrogate him, which isn't ideal, he'd really like to not go to jail, so he drafts up an employment contract on the way back and barely manages to escape the whole thing with his life intact.

then he explains everything to Jon because if Jon is going to end up being the Archivist, being uninformed won't do. Jon becomes the Archivist completely on accident and Elias is desperately trying to make all of this work because, haha, the Unknowing is coming up, and Elias is not in the fucking mood to deal with clowns.

olive ⚰ has named the group 'all that is terror uwu'

spidey🕸: lmfaooo jonah how do you make an archivist on accident

JMagnus 👀: He stumbled into it. All I can do now is ensure he doesn't die.

JMagnus 👀: Or get further injured by the rest of you.

🔥: woops

🎭: hEy gUyS lOnG tiMe nO sEe

🎭: gEt iT eLiAs

🎭: sEe

JMagnus 👀: Beholding puns are not amusing from a manifestation of the Stranger.

🎭 has named the group 'eLiAs bE niCe tO niKoLa cHaLlEnGe'

🔥: haha

spidey🕸: I'm sure Nikola will be on her best behavior

🎭: yEaH i wOnT kiDnAp yOuR aRcHiViSt

[JMagnus 👀 is typing]

mike n ike: hey guys what'd I miss

🔥: arent you dead

mike n ike: yeh but I came back

JMagnus 👀: NIKOLA ORSINOV WHERE IS JONATHAN SIMS

🔥: can't you see haha

mike n ike: heh "see"

JMagnus 👀: NIKOLA

spidey🕸: wow he must be pissed

spidey🕸: he left out the punctuation

JMagnus 👀: I WILL BREAK ALL OF YOUR PLASTIC BONES WHERE'S MY ARCHIVIST

🎭 has left the chat.

JMagnus 👀: what the FUCK

since he's still a coward Elias sends Michael to go fetch Jon, only finding out after the fact that he very nearly almost signed Jon's death warrant. Elias is now speedrunning Jon's development because fuck the Unknowing is coming up really quickly and Tim is a self destructive mess and Melanie keeps trying to stab Elias and Martin is a pining idiot and goddammit he didn't sign up for this

Elias prepares Jon the best he can for the Unknowing, because even though he knows the ritual will fail, the Circus can still cause a considerable amount of damage and he needs them out of the way.

the Unknowing happens. Jon ends up in a wack ass coma, Tim is dead, Daisy's in the coffin, and Basira is starting to look like the better choice of Archivist because jesus christ Jon has no self preservation instinct. Elias doesn't get arrested this time around but his ex husband starts coming by the Institute and fucking with all his employees. and the Flesh is attacking. jesus. goddamn.

olive ⚰ has named the group 'bully elias'

JMagnus 👀: Why are you all so mean to me? I'm arguably the nicest one here.

🔥: ur joking right

Peter Lukas: you're not nice you didn't buy me an anniversary gift 😢😢😢

JMagnus 👀: I was busy.

Peter Lukas: doing what

JMagnus 👀: Stopping the Flesh from destroying my Institute. Besides, you didn't remember my birthday.

Peter Lukas: you're 200 years old how could I remember 😓

helen!!!!!: We All Know I'm The Nicest One Here!!

JMagnus 👀: How did you make your text that colorful?

helen!!!!!: IDK

JMagnus 👀: Liar.

helen!!!!!: That's Literally My Job

olive ⚰: hey eli your archivist just woke up I think

🔥: ew why

helen!!!!!: How Delightful!! Maybe I'll Throw Him A Glad You're Alive Party!!

olive ⚰: should we invite him to this chat since he's an avatar now

Peter Lukas: no 🙅 🚫❌

Peter Lukas: I hate archivists 😤😤

olive ⚰: still mad about gertrude huh

🔥: were all still mad about gertrude

🔥: but jons fine once you burn some manners into him

JMagnus 👀: Can you all please stop hurting Jon? Or talking about hurting him? I would like my Archivist to not acquire any more scars.

🔥: damn

Peter Lukas: damn 😔

Elias keeps trying to teach Jon how to pick certain victims to feed off of because personally he has no qualms about feeding from innocents but Jon!! actually trusts him!!! so Elias doesn't want to push Jon into making decisions that will offend his moral sensitivities.

things are actually going okay for a while. Elias starts going home at a reasonable time in the evenings and Jon is actually getting some sleep. and then-

Elias is having a nice dream about Peter trying to fish Simon Fairchild out of a sky filled with eyes when he abruptly sits up in bed, wide awake.

"Ah, fuck," he says to Peter, who is laying on the floor where it is Lonelier™. "Jon's doing something stupid. I Know it."

Peter's mumbled "isn't he always" goes unnoticed as Elias hurries to the Institute, where he finds a fucking rib on Jon's desk and the coffin in the middle of the room.

Peter Lukas has named the chat 'archivists ruin my sleep schedule and my sex life'

JMagnus 👀: What the fuck do I do?? I can't go into the Buried! Why is Jon so stupid? I didn't know he had zero braincells when I hired him!

🔥: ngl why havent you fired him yet

JMagnus 👀: Beholding won't let me. We're all bound to the Institute.

🔥: F

JMagnus 👀: Why are there no Buried avatars in here? Please someone help me.

mike n ike: lol the buried is gross why would anyone go down there

spidey🕸: does he have an anchor?

[JMagnus 👀 sent an image]

🔥: is that a fucking rib

spidey🕸: wow that's not a good anchor at all

spidey🕸: he needs someone he loves

JMagnus 👀: Thanks. Gtg.

spidey🕸: np

🔥: are we not going to talk about his rib

🔥: how the fuck did he get that out of his body

🔥: yall

🔥: YALL

it takes three days for Elias to find Martin.

"Please tell me why the fuck you're dabbling in the Lonely," Elias says as Martin steps sheepishly out of the fog.

"Ah. Well. Jon can't See into it very well and sometimes we like to spice up our se-"

"Stop before I have to gouge my eyes out again."

"A-Again-?"

Elias drags Martin back to the Institute. Martin starts setting tapes on the coffin because "Jon loves these" and Elias starts bashing his head into the wall.

Jon climbs out of the coffin with Daisy and Elias almost considers locking Jon in his office so the damn archivist can't do anything else ridiculous. instead, Elias very calmly takes Jon by the shoulders, and shakes him like a rag doll.

"Stop fucking with entities, you stupid, stupid man," Elias says, shaking Jon more viciously now.

after several hours of breathing exercises Elias returns to his house and doesn't take his Sight off of Jon for the rest of the night, which is a fun experience for Peter when he wakes up and finds Elias' bloodshot eyes staring directly at him in the morning.

JMagnus 👀 added Daisy to 'archivists ruin my sleep schedule and my sex life'

Peter Lukas has named the chat 'archivist hate club'

JMagnus 👀 has named the chat 'shut up peter'

Peter Lukas has named the chat 'you love jon more than me'

JMagnus 👀 has named the chat 'I don't love either of you I'm heartless'

Peter Lukas has named the chat 'I want a divorce'

spidey🕸: jeez take your marital dispute elsewhere

spidey🕸 has named the chat 'lonelyeyes dni'

Daisy: wtf is this

mike n ike: it's a chat for avatars

mike n ike: and ex avatars ig

Daisy: didn't I kill you

mike n ike: yea

JMagnus 👀: Hello, Daisy. Welcome to the group chat.

Daisy: why is Jon not in here

Peter Lukas: because I hate him 😁

spidey🕸: Elias talks mad shit in here and Jon would get offended

Daisy: if you talk bad about Jon I'll rip your throat out

Daisy: :)

JMagnus 👀: Noted.

mike n ike: he's kinda rude tho

Daisy: I've killed you once

Elias' only goal now is to keep Jon and his assistants from pulling any more wild stunts without his supervision. his renewed involvement with the archival staff results in a few things he'd hoped to avoid: drink invites, physical contact (Martin is surprisingly quick to start hugging Elias once he realizes Elias won't stop him), and- shudder -feelings. because Elias genuinely cares about his staff and doesn't want any harm to befall them. especially Jon. Jon is his Archivist, the only one to ever succeed like this, and Elias will be damned if he lets anything happen to him.

"Why do you care?" Jon asks, once, compulsion thrumming like static on his tongue. "About us, I mean. I would've assumed you'd want to perform the Beholding's ritual."

Jonah Magnus attempted the Watcher's Crown once, when he was young and new. he'd brought his patron close, but not all the way through, and the backlash of power killed all the inmates at Millbank and severely crippled Jonah's connection to the Eye for months afterward. he grew to assume that the Beholding simply preferred the world as it was--ripe with fear for watching. it didn't need a ritual.

he instead dedicated himself to growing stronger, cultivating his Institute of knowledge, his stronghold. if he tore out a few people's eyes when he got too old, then, well, collateral. but he doesn't want the world to end, and knows now that no ritual will ever succeed unless it brings in all the Powers at once. and he doesn't want that either.

it's concerning to him that Jon seems to be collecting marks regardless. the only ones he's missing are the Dark and the Lonely, and Elias is determined to keep it that way.

he explains all of this to Jon who, to his credit, takes it pretty well. Jon is fascinated with historic life and Elias spends some time simply recounting tales of his youth, when he still bore the name Magnus.

they bond. it's good.

and one day Basira does a little too much research and discovers the dark sun waiting in Ny Alesund. she insists they need to go and see what's left of the People's Church, they need to ensure everything is taken care of. Jon is rather insistent too. and Elias wouldn't have been inclined to let them go, except Peter was finally home after weeks at sea, and it wasn't like Jon was defenseless, he could call Elias if anything went wrong...

so, very reluctantly, Elias gives them the all clear. Basira, Jon, and Martin head north, and Elias almost forgets they've gone when he arrives home and Peter already has dinner prepared.

Jon comes back marked by the Dark.

Elias curses himself, over and over, for being foolish enough to let them go, for not keeping a closer eye on them. he knows the ritual won't work unless a certain incantation is spoken, so he'll just have to keep world-ending written chants away from Jon. easy. and it's not like Jon will even get marked by the Lonely. Peter wouldn't.

(but Martin doesn't have the same level of control, and sometimes...)

it's an accident. Martin and Jon are testing it, pushing the boundaries, when Martin pulls them both into the Lonely. Elias threatens divorce until Peter caves and fetches them, but it's too late. Jon has been marked by all fourteen Powers.

Elias tells him, and warns him to check everything he reads.

helen!!!!! has named the chat 'apocalypse babey'

JMagnus 👀: How are you doing that?

JMagnus 👀: And the apocalypse is not imminent. I have the situation under control.

olive ⚰: ha yeah

JMagnus 👀: What do you mean by that?

olive ⚰: nothing

JMagnus 👀: Well, now I certainly think it's something.

olive ⚰: it's just

olive ⚰: don't you think it's kinda weird that @spidey🕸 has been offline for so long

🔥: thats weird shes always online

JMagnus 👀: Oliver, what are you implying?

olive ⚰: idk

olive ⚰: just weird, that's all

🔥: never good when the spiders are quiet

olive ⚰: hear hear

Elias gets a sinking feeling in his stomach, and beside him, Peter looks alarmed. meanwhile, in his flat with Martin making tea in the other room, Jon has a statement clutched in his grasp.

Hello, Jon.

I would apologize for the deception, but I'm afraid that's quite what I'm good at. I'm not one to monologue, that's more Jonah's shtick, so shall we get on with things?

I admit I underestimated Jonah Magnus. He's still remarkably easy to manipulate, but when he abandoned the Watcher's Crown ritual I knew I would have to take a different approach. The Mother is not so satisfied with the world as she may have insinuated. It is our turn to rise, Jon.

At the age of eight, you were marked by us. We sent you to the Magnus Institute in the hopes that a new Archivist would rekindle Jonah's desire to end the world. Unfortunately, it seemed as though he grew fond of you, and so we brought in a new plan. We marked you. One fear at a time. Jonah gave an admirable attempt at protecting you, but ultimately, he is an incompetent old fool, and I am a Weaver. Even Jonah Magnus dances to invisible strings.

Everyone underestimates a spider until it bites. Poison is poison, Jon, regardless of the medium in which it is served.

You will be safe in this new world. Martin, too. Perhaps even Jonah and his Lukas, if the Mother deems them worthy.

Now, please repeat after me...

Jon reads the ink scratched words, eyes welling up with tears and hands trembling, as thunder crashes outside and a howling gale picks up beyond the windows. Martin is shouting something, there's the crawling press of Elias' gaze as it rests heavy behind Jon, a silent observer. He can feel Elias' soothing presence, cool and calm in the raging storm.

Elias is still watching out for him.

Strings are wrapped around his wrists, jerking his arms up in a poor mockery of religious regard, strange hysterical laughter clawing out from his throat.

Jon's tears run red. Somewhere, Elias is still watching.

The door opens.

[ahgastae]

curiosity (wip) – bang chan x f!reader

➥ word count: 6.1k | spider-man au | action (?? idk) | fluff

➥ m.list

➥ a/n: alright,, let me explain myself lol. i started writing this like?? over a year ago? and eventually got to the point where i kind of just lost ALL of the ideas that i had for where i wanted this to go. SO, instead of letting it sit in my docs forever, i decided to go ahead and post it here for all of you! i hope you enjoy ♡

One thing you can say for sure is you really, really didn’t expect your life to go this way. Not that you have any idea as to how you actually want it to go, but barely hanging onto the edge of the tallest skyscraper in New York definitely isn’t on the top of your list. You feel your fingers start to cramp from the weight, and part of you realizes that this might be it. The end of the infamous Black Cat. Done in because you finally decided to do something good with your life.

Tch. Figures.

A bitter smile spreads across your lips. Of course, this would be the way you go. Ever so dramatic, but on your own damn terms. The thought is comforting, even if it only soothes your beating heart just a bit. You focus on that when your fingers finally start to give out, and you lose your grip on the edge of the rooftop. 

When your eyes slowly slip closed, and you feel the wind rushing through your hair. 

There’s a small voice in your head telling you to hold on, that it’s almost there. It’s weird. It almost sounds familiar. Almost like-

“Y/N!”

You jolt up in your bed, chest heaving as you struggle to regain your breath. Stars twinkle faintly outside a large window to your right, but your vision quickly adjusts to the rest of the darkened room. Your hands release their iron grip on your plush comforter, a sigh of relief escaping your lips. You’re in your bedroom. It was just another nightmare.

A scoff. ‘Just another nightmare.’ You’ve been plagued with the same stupid dream for weeks now, and you still can’t figure out why. It always starts and ends the same way. You’re hanging off the skyscraper, you try to hang on for as long as you can, you realize very quickly that you can’t hold on any longer, and then you fall. Presumably to your death. But you never seem to make it that far.

Not that you want to, but don’t most people not wake up until they hit the ground during those dreams? Why do you wake up gasping for air before you’re even halfway down? You suppose you should be lucky, but you can’t help feeling like there’s more to it than that. Especially with that voice, the one that calls your name? You always hear it calling out to you, every night, right before you wake up. Tonight wasn’t any different.

You sigh, swinging your legs over the edge of your bed and eyeing the clock on your night stand. 3:25AM. 

….Shit.

Well, you’re probably not getting back to bed anytime soon, so you might as well put this wake up call to good use. Padding over to your closet, you carefully swing open the wooden door, cringing to yourself when a slight creak echoes off your bedroom walls. You wait a few seconds just to make sure you’re in the clear. But the apartment is completely silent, save for your roommate’s soft snores in her room next door.

The hidden panel in the back of your closet slides open with a click, and you can’t help the excited smile on your face. No matter how you’re feeling, the sight of that black catsuit never fails to brighten your mood. Your hands run along the smooth material, quickly changing into the familiar suit, and grinning when you catch a glimpse of your reflection in the window. You didn’t really plan on going out, but….

Looks like the Black Cat is going to have some fun tonight after all.

The museum is quiet when you drop through the skylight, landing softly on the balcony of the second floor. Your EMP seems to have done its job, as the security system is powered down and there doesn’t seem to be a guard in sight. They’re probably all back in their office, hurriedly trying to figure out what the hell went wrong. If only they knew about the small, catlike figurine hidden on the roof. Although, maybe not. You don’t mind leaving your adorably deceiving EMPs behind, but they’re not for some random night guard to find. No, you leave them behind for a specific someone. A certain web-headed hero, if you will.

Oh, who are you kidding? It’s no secret (at least, not to him) that you love to tease New York’s  friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. Everywhere you go, every heist you pull, you always make sure the hero knows it was you. Obsessed? You wouldn’t say so. Sure, you definitely get a little too excited at the thought of just barely slipping out of his fingers again, but you don’t spend every waking minute planning his demise like some of his other big, bad villains. 

Really, if you were to rank yourself, you’d probably be somewhere between “Lovable Anti-Villain” and “Hero With an ‘F’ in Good”. Not super “evil,” more like just enough to keep the wallcrawler chasing your tail. 

But that’s not the entire reason you’re here tonight, slipping into the museum’s new exhibit on fourteenth century Japan. 

The law labels you a criminal, Spider-Man believes you’re misguided, but you know what you are. You’re the Black Cat, a thief notorious throughout the underground. Well, you say that, but of the people that actually believe you exist, very few have actually seen the Black Cat in person. Actually, it may just be Spider-Man, now that you think about it. Maybe that’s why you feel a weird connection with the wall-crawling hero.

Either way, bottom line is you’re a thief, and a damn good one at that. It’s definitely not the most noble profession (or legal one), but your very specific set of skills make you the best at it, so why not? Plus, it’s not like you’re entirely heartless. 

No, you only steal from the wealthy of New York, the highest of elites, the ones who can stand to lose a few thousands (or millions, if you’re feeling pretty moody that night). You’ve tried to explain that to Spider-Man, that it’s okay for you to steal from them because they’re the ones who deserve it. It’s downright disgusting how many of them used dirty means to come into their wealth, methods ranging from less than savory to straight up nefarious.

You may be bad, but you’re definitely not worse than them.

That brings you back to the exhibit. Most of the artifacts in this room were already either stolen or bought from the black market, so what does it matter if you just continue that line?

The latch of the display case clicks as you open the lid, admiring the ancient Japanese tea set nestled inside. You don’t really know its value yet, but it’s going to earn you a pretty penny, that’s for sure. Your hand reaches into the case, hovering over the ceramic teapot when you hear it.

THWIP.

You drop to a crouch, glancing up at the webbing splattered across the lid of the display case. If you hadn’t moved, that would’ve been all over you. And you’d definitely be pissed, if you didn’t know exactly where it came from. A sly smile crosses your face as you stand and turn, locking eyes (or masks?) with your favorite hero perched atop one of the exhibit’s statues.

“I’m starting to think you like us meeting this way, Spider-Man.”

The playful lilt in your voice never fails to catch him off guard. His broad shoulders tense, and it takes everything in you to suppress the giggle from escaping your lips. But he’s quick to compose himself, like always, and you’re almost certain you can hear the smirk in his tone.

“What can I say? My mom always told me to follow my dreams.”

You laugh, trailing a hand along another case as you stroll towards him, “How did you know I’d be here?”

“New exhibit filled with priceless artifacts and no rooftop security,” He shrugs, jumping from the statue’s head and landing in front of you with a soft thud. “Figured it’d be a cat burglar’s dream come true.”

“You thought of me?” You step closer, resting your hands on the white spider emblazoned across his chest. The muscles tense underneath your fingers, and you smirk when his hands twitch in the corner of your eye. “Don’t worry, Spidey. I promise I’m on my best behavior. I just want a few teensy, tiny things and then I’ll be on my way.”

“Sorry, Cat, but I don’t think any of these artifacts are for sale.”

“But they could be,” You shrug, turning away from him. Your fingers toy with the latch on a nearby display case. “See, I think I have a buyer who would love to add something like this to his collection…”

A gloved hand wraps around your wrist before you can open the case. Your eyes trail up his arm, blinking innocently at his white lenses.

“You know I can’t let you do this.”

You smile, leaning into him once more, “Can’t, or won’t?” He stays silent, and you reach your free hand up to cup his masked face. Your thumb softly traces back and forth on his cheek. “Isn’t it funny,” you whisper, “how something as simple as a piece of fabric can keep someone from knowing who you really are?”

“Cat…”

“Do you really think that you can save me, Spidey?” You tilt your head, eyes desperately scanning his face for any sign of his thoughts or feelings. “How do you know if I even want to be saved?”

He swiftly tugs you closer, and despite the white lenses shielding his eyes, you feel his gaze pierce into your own. When he speaks, his voice is soft but deep, and for the first time since you met him, you’re rendered speechless.

“Because you wouldn’t still be here if you didn’t.”

Before you can respond, the sound of footsteps down the hall startles you both. Spider-Man’s grip loosens as he quickly turns towards the exhibit entrance, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what’s going on. The guards must have finally figured out that someone is after the new exhibit, and they won’t be happy to find two intruders standing inside. 

Your eyes shift between Spider-Man and the exhibit entrance. It won’t be hard for you two to escape together before the guards even set foot in this room, but what will you do then? Will you laugh and tell him that he’s wrong about you, that you really don’t want his help? 

….Or is it that you don’t think you deserve it?

No, he’s just wrong. Spider-Man doesn’t know you, and it’s silly of you to even pretend that he does. You know you like your life just the way it is. That’s not going to change, no matter how much your chest tightens as you gently tug your wrist out of his grip.

It’s not going to change, no matter how much a part of you wishes he would notice you climbing up to the skylight in the center of the room. That he would stop you from slipping through it, and back into the starry night. That he wouldn’t let you fall through his fingertips yet again.

But you’ve never been particularly lucky. Especially not when you really want to be.

By the time you get back to your apartment and change out of your gear, it’s already well past dawn. Like usual, your roommate is still asleep, blissfully unaware that you were gone for a good portion of the night. Which is good, because you really don’t know how you would explain your “other life” to her if she ever found out.

With your suit safely stowed back in its hidden panel, you collapse onto your bed with a heavy sigh. What a fucking night. You’re a little upset that you ended up leaving empty handed, but you knew that was going to happen as soon as you saw the wall-crawler. He really just guessed that you were going to be there tonight. Are you getting that predictable?

Ugh, no. You shake your head. The last thing you want to think about right now is what happened at the museum. How could such a simple sentence send all of your thoughts into a whirlwind of emotions?

“Because you wouldn’t still be here if you didn’t.” 

His voice still echoes in your mind, and you stuff your face in your pillow with a groan. This is dumb. Why are you freaking out over this? It’s not like he meant anything by it, just his usual Spidey “I can help you!” stuff. Yeah, that’s it. He just gave you the same spiel he gives all his other enemies, nothing more, nothing less.

….But why does that hurt more?

You throw the pillow off your face as another sigh escapes your lips. Sometimes you really wish you could be one of those super evil villains. You know, those ones who never have to deal with their feelings and shit because they’re too busy taking over the world. Although, you guess you don’t really want to take over the world, at least not all of it. That’s way too much responsibility. You wonder if the people who actually do want to rule the world think of how much time and effort that’s going to require. How do they prepare for that? Is that mental preparation how they’re able to turn off all their feelings? Could you somehow learn to-

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?”

You shriek at the sudden whisper in your ear, instinctively rolling away from its source and tumbling off the end of your bed. Your butt hits the floor with a dull thud, and you glare at a giggling Sana over your mattress.

“What the hell was that for?!”

“S-Sorry!” She chokes out. “I didn’t think I’d scare you that bad!”

Crawling back onto your bed with a grumble, you eye Sana as she struggles to collect herself. She really shouldn’t have scared you that bad, but you guess the lack of sleep and your frazzled thoughts are finally starting to catch up with you. When Sana finally manages to contain her giggles, she plops down on the edge of your mattress with a small huff.

“I really am sorry for scaring you, Y/N,” She reaches out to squeeze your hand. “I thought you would have noticed me walk in.”

You shake your head, giving her a small squeeze in return, “It’s fine. I’ve just...been having some trouble sleeping lately. That’s all.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Her voice is so sincere and caring, you almost find yourself saying yes. You don’t, though, because you can’t tell her the real reason why you haven’t been sleeping, and you don’t think you can bear to lie to her about it, either. With that, your roommate leaves, going back to her room to get ready for her day while you try to muscle up the energy to start yours.

Throwing your legs over the side of your bed, you grab your phone from your nightstand to check the time. Oh, looks like you got a good number of texts during your daydreaming, too.

...And it looks like most of them are from your best friend.

changaroo 🦘 : hey, jinyoung’s in a bit of a mood today, so make sure you’re here on time, alright?

changaroo  🦘 : also i think i have an idea for your next article, i’ll tell you about it when you get in

changaroo  🦘 : y/n, you were supposed to be here 20 min ago, everything okay??

changaroo  🦘 : ….you fucking slept in again, didn’t you?

changaroo  🦘 : hold on i’m texting sana

Ah. So that’s why she was in your room. Chan’s texts are just what you need to get yourself out of bed, though, instantly motivated by both your best friend’s caring nature and the thought of your boss’s wrath hanging above your head. The last time Jinyoung was in a “mood”, you ended up covering the city’s sewer system for a whole month just because you left your dirty coffee mug sitting in the break room sink. That’s a mistake you only make once. Or four times, if you’re poor Hyunjin, who just can’t seem to stay on your boss’s good side, no matter how hard he tries.

Speaking of which, you really need to get your ass moving, or else you’ll wish you only had to cover rats and raw sewage.

Your chest heaves as you approach the Daily Bugle building, the red neon letters standing tall and proud atop its roof announcing the paper’s presence to all of New York City. Some tourists stand around here and there in front of the building’s entrance, and you have to push past them in order to make it inside. Once inside, you think you can take a brief moment of rest. 

Until you notice the clock above the receptionist’s desk and realize you’re almost forty-five minutes late.

With a small cry, you take off in another mad dash towards the stairs, taking the steps two at a time and only almost faceplanting once before you finally burst onto your floor. Everyone immediately turns at the noise, and you avoid their probing eyes as you make your way to your desk. 

You sit down, turn on your computer, and get yourself ready to act like you aren’t almost an hour late to start your day when you sense a familiar gaze still boring into your forehead. You can’t stop yourself from glancing up, finding his eyes staring at you over your monitor. 

“Not. One. Word.”

Chan laughs, leaning back in his chair and giving you a view of his entire face. He mimes zipping his mouth shut and throwing away the key, and a small smile crosses your face. Leave it to him to automatically brighten your day.

If you’re being completely honest, you were a little worried at first about the curly haired Australian your boss decided to place at the desk across from you. Not that you didn’t like him, but you didn’t exactly become the paper’s best investigative journalist by sitting around and making friends. Sure, you don’t necessarily need this job given your…”other” career, but it gives you something to do during the week and keeps your mind busy. That, and you really just like digging into people’’s deep, dark secrets.

Long story short, you weren’t exactly thrilled about some new guy coming in and taking your eye off the ball. At least, that’s what you thought, until the day Christopher Bang showed up and introduced himself as your new partner. Turns out, Jinyoung didn’t just hire a new photographer for the Bugle, he hired a new photographer specifically for your articles. You knew then that you just had to suck it up and deal, but you didn’t count on Christopher (or Chan, as he later insisted you call him) being literally the nicest, most charming guy you’ve ever met.

And despite your attempts to stop it, you and Chan quickly became “thick as thieves,” as he likes to call it. The phrase makes you cringe a little every time he says it, but you can’t deny its truth. If you were to trust anyone with your secret life, it would definitely be your best friend. Now, you’re never going to do that because what in the hell would you gain from it, but the sentiment is still there.

Actually, speaking of secrets….

You glance up at Chan again, except this time his attention is focused on his own computer screen. Part of you wants to just leave him be, but this has been eating at you since you talked to Sana this morning. Or, no, when you first woke up at 3AM today. You swallow your pride, clearing your throat just loud enough to get Chan’s attention. His brown eyes immediately find yours.

“Something wrong?”

“I, um…” You bite your lip. “I had another one of those dreams again.”

Chan’s brow furrows, and he leans forward in his seat, “The falling one? Isn’t that the fourth time this week?”

“It’s the twelfth time this month, Chan.” 

“Shit…” He mumbles, running a hand through his blond hair. You try to ignore the way your heart speeds up at the small action, staring down at your keyboard to hide your face. You’re just...not used to trusting someone as much as you trust Chan. Yeah, that’s it. Absolutely nothing but that sole reason alone. “Y/N?”

“H-Hm?” You blink up at Chan, cheeks heating up even more when you realize you were caught daydreaming. Again.

“I just figured there must be a reason you keep having the same dream, you know? Like, maybe your subconscious is trying to tell you something?”

You think for a moment. Could that be the case? Is your subconscious really fucking up your sleep schedule for some important message that’s getting lost in translation? Are you just a dumbass who can’t understand your own brain?

Honestly, all valid possibilities.

Before you can respond, though, the phone on your desk rings loudly. Chan’s brow raises as you pick it up, but you both already know who it is. There’s really only one person who uses that line, and it’s the same person you were hoping not to hear from today.

“L/N, my office. Now.”

And then he hangs up. Your boss has always been a man of few words, but sometimes you really hate how such a short sentence can strike so much fear into your heart. Chan watches as you stand up and adjust your outfit with a heavy sigh.

“Tell him you haven’t been sleeping well lately,” He suggests, and for a minute you think he’s actually being earnest. But, of course, he just has to open his mouth again, “And if that doesn’t work, then at least we’ll be exploring the sewers of New York together!”

A laugh bubbles past your lips, “Are you serious?”

“Hey, I’ve always wanted to know if the Ninja Turtles were real,” Chan grins widely, chuckling when you just shake your head and walk away. He can still see the smile on your face, though, and it only grows when he shouts after you, “You know you wouldn’t mind being the April to my Casey!”

“In your dreams, Christopher!”

His loud laughter follows you all the way to the stairwell, and your chest feels light as you climb up to your boss’s office on the top floor. With Chan’s bright smile in the back of your mind, it’s hard to remember what you were so worried about in the first place. At least, until you’re standing right outside your boss’s door.

“Thank you for taking your sweet time, L/N. Please, sit down.”

Park Jinyoung is, for lack of better words, intimidating to some, and outright terrifying to others. You like to think you’re somewhere near the former, but the look on the twenty-four year old’s face right now is enough to send even the most despicable villains running for the hills. Really, who needs a Spider-Man when you’ve got a Jinyoung to just death glare the bad guys away?

You take a seat in the chair in front of his desk, nervously wringing your hands in your lap. He spends a few more seconds shuffling around the papers and files on his desk, then fixes you with a deadpan look. 

“Do you know why I called you in here, L/N?”

“Because I was...late again?” Your shoulders hunch, automatically preparing for the verbal barrage of scolding to start, but it never comes. You glance up at Jinyoung cautiously, shocked to find his brows raised in amusement.

Much more to your surprise, he chuckles, leaning back in his office chair, “You look like you’re about to faint, L/N. I really think you need to loosen up a bit.”

“O-Okay, sir-”

“That’s why,” Jinyoung cuts you off, “I want you to take on a new side project for the paper.”

You blink. A side project…? What could he possibly mean by that? And how does giving you more work equate to you “loosening up”?!

“Let me explain.” You stay silent as your boss clears his throat, sitting up in his seat to look you in the eyes. “Truthfully, it would be less of a side project and more of an ongoing investigative piece. It’ll take the place of your other responsibilities for the Bugle, so you can divide and spread out your workload as you see fit. You don’t even have to report to me until the full piece is finished, if you’d like.”

...Is this a test? Because it feels like a test, doesn’t it? He gives you some too-good-to-be-true offer, and then fires you for being stupid enough to accept it. Or, maybe-

Oh, god, is this where the sewers come in?

“I’m sorry, sir,” You force out, steeling your nerves against his hard gaze, “but I think I’m going to decline.”

You hope that’s going to be the end of it, that Jinyoung will just nod and send you on your way, but of course that’s not the case. No, instead your boss surprises you for the second time, and he actually smiles.

“Are you sure, L/N?” He asks, and you get the strange feeling he’s getting some sick satisfaction from messing with you. “I haven’t even told you what the piece is about yet.”

A small sigh leaves your lips, “What...What is it about, sir?”

“Oh, it’s simple, L/N,” Jinyoung’s smirk grows, taking your question as an acceptance of his offer. His next words shock the objection right out of you, though, and leave only one thought in their place. “You’re just going to do this city and this paper a favor, and finally find out who New York’s friendly neighborhood Spider-Man really is.”

...Fuck.

“He wants you to what?!”

You flinch, pulling your phone away from your ear as Sana’s voice screeches from the device. Honestly, she hadn’t been your first choice to tell about your new “project” (Jinyoung didn’t give you much choice, after all), but Chan was nowhere to be seen when you got back to your desk. You did, however, have one simple text waiting on your phone.

changaroo 🦘 : had to run out. meet you at the usual spot for lunch. my treat <3

So, here you are. Waiting at the pizzeria you and Chan regularly meet at with your roommate loudly screaming in your ear. You mumble something to Sana about needing to go and seeing her at home, and hang up the call. You love her, you really do, but right now you need someone who’s not going to blow out your eardrums without listening to what you actually want to say.

But it’s starting to look more and more like that won’t be Chan, either.

The blond boy has a habit of disappearing every now and again, both during and outside of work, and right now is starting to seem like one of those times. It doesn’t usually take him this long to respond to your texts, and he never likes to miss your little ‘lunch dates’ without any warning. Either something is seriously wrong, or…

“This just in, the NYPD advises all civilians to evacuate the east Harlem district. We’ve received reports of the Rhino attacking parts of the area, along with sightings of the masked vigilante, Spider-Man. That’s all we know for now, but we will continue to keep you posted as the story develops. Now, onto the…”

Ah, that makes a lot of sense. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that Chan’s mysterious disappearances always line up with whatever villain of the day getting their ass kicked by everyone’s favorite “vigilante.” The news anchor’s choice of words makes you snicker, but you can’t help but worry for your friend. Most people run away from villain attacks, and it doesn’t sit well with you knowing Chan is regularly risking his life just to get a few good shots for his portfolio. His photos are amazing, there’s no denying that, but you always wonder how he gets his impossible close ups of villains and their destruction. It’s almost like he has to be right in the middle of–

The bell above the pizzeria’s door rings, jolting you out of your thoughts. You look up expectantly, but it’s still not your best friend. A quiet sigh escapes your lips. Another look at your phone tells you that you can’t wait here much longer; you need to get back to work sometime today. Still, it pains you a little bit to stand from your guys’ booth. Your usual tip is left on the table despite it being only one meal, and you head back to the Bugle with your best friend lingering in the back of your mind.

Back at your desk, you finally get a chance to mull over your new “assignment”. Jinyoung has tasked you, for whatever reason, with figuring out Spider-Man’s real identity. You remember now why you wanted to talk to Chan so badly. You thought, since he’s always running back and forth between villain attacks, that he would have some kind of idea where to start. That, and you really just wanted to rant about your asshole boss to your best friend. Chan ended up being a no show, though, and he’s still not answering any of your texts. You hate to admit it, but you’re a little lost.

Your first thought was to use the connection you already have with the spider to your advantage. You’ve “known” each other for a couple years now, and maybe, just maybe, you can convince him to actually take off the mask. It wouldn’t be that hard to just don the Black Cat suit and wait around one of your usual hang outs for him show up. Actually, that would probably be the easiest thing to do.

Except that you can’t.

As you stare at Chan’s vacant desk in front of you, you’re bitterly reminded that Y/N L/N has been assigned this job, not the Black Cat. And unfortunately for you, Y/N L/N does not have the same connection to Spider-Man as your alter ego. Looks like you’re starting this investigation from square one.

...Which is why you wanted to talk to Chan. He’s your partner, after all; he’s “technically” supposed to help you out with this stuff. That is, if he was actually fucking here. Maybe you should drop by his apartment on your way home, just to make sure he didn’t get trampled or something trying to get a snapshot of the Rhino’s rampage. You try to tell yourself you meant that as a joke, but it doesn’t stop the flash of worry in your chest. You’ve seen firsthand some of the destruction Spider-Man’s battles leave behind. Hell, you’ve even experienced it. And honestly? It doesn’t sit well knowing your best friend makes a hobby of putting himself right in the middle of it.

A heavy sigh escapes your lips, and you’re just starting to consider giving up and calling it a day when your phone lights up with a notification. You hastily snatch it off your desk, immediately perking up upon seeing the name on your screen.

changaroo 🦘 : sorry i missed lunch...take out at mine?

changaroo 🦘 : i’ll order from that korean place you love <3

The tension in your shoulders immediately melts away, tension that you didn’t even realize you were holding. You waste no time in responding, though; relieved to know that he’s okay, but wanting to mess with him a little bit for leaving you on radio silence for so long.

you : tsk tsk channie

you : don’t you know how rude it is to leave a lady waiting all by her lonesome??

you : frankly i don’t know if i’ll ever be able to trust you again (tear emoji or some bs idk)

Three little dots pop up seconds after you press send, and you bite your lip to stop the smile threatening to break through. 

changaroo 🦘 : my apologies, princess!! 

changaroo 🦘 : please, allow me to make it up to you with some of your fav ice cream from the convenience store down the road!

you : hmm…

you : with or without sprinkles?

changaroo 🦘 : uh, with ofc. just who do you think i am??

A small laugh bubbles up your throat, but you cover your mouth before it can escape. Woojin, head of the paper’s advice column, side-eyes you from his desk a few feet away. You don’t notice, though, happily typing out your reply to Chan with an eager grin on your face.

you : apology accepted. i’ll be there in 15

you : ...casey 😉

The train ride to Chan’s apartment is a familiar blur. You’ve taken it more times than you care to count, and it’s honestly become a bit of a habit to instinctively get off at his stop. You don’t have to stop yourself this time, though, putting your legs on auto-pilot and letting your mind wander as you walk. Today has been….a real doozy. From that stupid dream this morning to Jinyoung dumping a monster of an investigative piece on you with zero notice, you’re exhausted, to say the least. No wonder Chan’s front door is such a comforting sight. 

You gently rap your knuckles against the wood before letting yourself in, like you always do. A relieved sigh escapes you as you drop your bag by the door, inhaling the light, summery scent of your friend’s home. That reminds you, you’ve really been meaning to ask him what air freshener he uses. Or maybe it’s his cologne, because it’s not just his house that smells this sweet; it’s Chan himself. Or who knows, maybe he’s like your coworker Minho and it’s really both. Actually, now that you think of it, isn’t it a little weird to have a specific smell you associate with your best friend?

…Which is something you can worry about later.

“Chan!” You call as you walk into the living room, eyes scanning around. There are various take out boxes scattered across the coffee table, but the blond is nowhere in sight. You try again, “Chan?”

A frown etches onto your face when there's still no response. That’s weird. It’s not like him to just leave when he knows you’re coming over, especially without telling you first. But the food on the table is still warm, meaning he had to have been here recently. Did you somehow miss his text? You pull your phone out of your back pocket, confirming that you did not, in fact, miss any “brb” texts from Chan. So, what the hell?

Your search takes you into the small kitchen next, but there’s no sign of your best friend there, either, unless the dirty dishes in the sink count. Oh, gross, you know for a fact some of those have been in there since last week. Your nose scrunches up in disgust and you quickly move on from the room, but not before making a mental note to tell Chan to do his fucking dishes. 

However, the bathroom is empty, too, leaving the apartment’s one bedroom as your last stop. If you had more of a conscience, maybe you would think twice before barging into your friend’s bedroom unannounced. Then again, boundaries never really have been your strong suit.

The door swings open, and the first thing you see is abs. Nice, well toned abs that, as you soon find out, belong to your best friend. Said best friend is frozen, one of his signature black tees pulled halfway down his torso. After a few seconds of stunned silence, you force yourself to tear your eyes away from Chan’s stomach, only for your cheeks to immediately explode in pink when your gaze meets his.

A small squeak leaves your mouth, and you quickly mumble something about waiting for him in the living room before slamming the bedroom door shut. That could not have gone any worse.

[useragarfield]

Hiii Lolo!! 💕 This is for the favorite fics ask game! I got a little carried away because I was so interested/excited...here ya go! 😊 🎭 😱 🥰 👩‍👩‍👧 👩‍⚕️ 🎲 ♾

If you don’t want to answer them all that’s completely fine!! Thanks in advance! Love ya!! Hope you’re having a lovely day because of course you deserve it!!! ☀️💓

(THANK YOU FOR SENDING ME THIS DEAR. i wanted to wait to respond until i could do some deep diving and give you a real answer. as a fic writer myself, i do tend to reread my own stuff, but i don’t want to me indulgent or anything so none of it is here but sljgksg i hope YOU are having an amazing day and i’m so flattered that you cared to ask.)

😊 a fic you like to read when you’re happy

drinking salted water by grimgrace (THE AMAZING SPIDER-MAN)

this fic is so familiar to me it’s like a warm, spidey scented hug. one of the first fics i read over and over because it was simply perfect with just the right amount of bittersweet. happy endings and spidey kisses? i’m S O L D

Poster Boy by MilkshakeKate (THE MAN FROM UNCLE)

milkshakekate is simply the best and my favorite tmfu writer, which is saying a lot because that is a dedicated writing fandom there and i owe them my life. anything they write is incredible, but something about the secret rendevous mid mission and all the uniform stuff really uh. got me.

Gwen Stacy and the Wonders of Spider-Sex by Jenetica (THE AMAZING SPIDER-MAN)

i’ve read this so many times i could not tell you. the relationship growth? the intrigue? THE HOT SPIDEY OF IT ALL! never been and never will be disappointed by this fic.

B O N U S

the language of touch by moodyreindeer (CLOAK AND DAGGER)

alright this section of ao3 & fanfic.net is tiny for one of my favorite pairings but i fell in love with this fic the first time i read it and have never fallen OUT. it’s so genuine to them and i love it sm. idk. read it, it’s GREAT.

🎭 a fic you like to read when you’re sad―either to cheer you up or because it matches your mood

Reckless by ninemilestogo (THE AMAZING SPIDER-MAN)

a truly detailed tasm au where my kids are ANGSTY but end up happy and also the best use of the comic book villian chameleon ever. although to be fair, i haven’t read enough of them.

😱 an angsty fic

may i feel, said he by sugargroupie (ONE TREE HILL)

on the surface this is smutty, but it’s my favorite naley fic OUT THERE in these streets. the writer does teenage nathan so well i yell a lot on the inside. i don’t know how many times i’ve read it.

The Man, the Mystery, Richard Castle by RachelCAstrid (CASTLE)

one of the first castle fics i stumbled upon after my rewatch and it has my whole heart!! it’s sweet and angsty and in depth, and you can’t lose by reading it. DO IT. i dare you.

B O N U S

the sole relentless tenderness by satellitesonparade (YOUNG JUSTICE)

wally and artemis will make me cry for the rest of my life, and this is one of the best writers for it, so yeah. gift yourself. read it. sob saltily.

🥰 a fic for people in love

She thinks it’s funny that they’re awkward in bed by Emma_dghc (CASTLE)

this just makes me swooooooooon. i love intimacy and little moments a lot in my fics, it’s what sells me on relationships between characters, and this did an incredible job! one of my favorite fics set in season five, which is a fic fave for me i suppose with this pairing.

by any other name by FreshBrains (DIRTY DANCING)

after i watched and fell in love with the movie i combed through the archives and THIS was my favorite one in the whole place! it’s just so, so lovely. i find that with older films it’s harder to find things that feel written true to character, and this knocked it out of the park.

Bodies at Rest by PollyLynn (CASTLE)

at this point in my life i have a read (read: a LOT) of caskett fanfics in my time and there are many more in my future, but this really stands out to me as one of my favorites. their burgeoning relationship season 5 is truly - chefs kiss - and it’s the first (or second?) fic of @pollylynn ‘s that i ever read, and without it i wouldn’t have begun to work my way through all of their incredible stuff! check them out, they are a gift.

👩‍👩‍👧 a fic that makes you your appreciate your (found) family

The Team by loveJLforever (YOUNG JUSTICE)

the og young justice crew is one of my FAVORITE found families and i envy anyone who can do GC format because that shit is taxing as hell. this is hilarious and in character and i’ve read it through multiple times.

👩‍⚕️ and a hurt/comfort fic you like.

Teach Me To Live by dontoutchthefics (PHANTOM OF THE OPERA)

at this stage in my life i kind of set up a house on ao3 and rarely dare to venture to my old place on fanfic.net, but for this story it was absolutely worth it. it’s a gorgeous phantom of the opera modern/coffeeshop au that still has singing and this authors prose is STUNNING. it was a fic i stumbled across simply due to @ilustrariane ‘s INCREDIBLE commission which i highly suggest you also check out.

🎲 one fic that made you change something about your life, and what: 

Lessons for the Lost by KayMoon24 (MULTI-DISNEY)

this was literally the first and only time that i actually connected enough to email back and forth with any fanfic writer online! their prose and respectful + in depth taking on different topics just blew my mind for a disney fic and it’s still top tier in my head. it inspired me so much i started my own (which, ain’t as good at all), but this is the best one of its kind. wherever you are kay, ilysm!

B O N U S 

The Horizons Saga by njsafkbj (link is for Part I of VII, HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DRAGON) is a gorgeous fic written before we even knew there would be another HTTYD that is so well done about Toothless and Hiccup recovering from the events of the first movie and growing and yeah.

♾ one fic you tell yourself not to reread because it makes you feel SO MUCH but you always end up going back to it

the world fits inside your arms by flyingthesky

one of the first works i ever bookmarked on archive of our own, possibly the one fic about real people that i love. it’s so lovingly written, and i see it as i guess a sort of real life au idk, but i reread it whenever i’m feeling bittersweet and angsty because it sends me right back to 2013-14 when emma stone and andrew garfield owned my life and had no clue.

B O N U S

The Next Great Adventure by brella

hands down best young justice fic i have ever or will ever read. season 3 of young justice exists in a different universe to me, this is the best fix it fic ever, and i reread it once a year to put myself through hell and back, not unlike wally in the speedforce.

HONORABLE MENTIONS NO ONE ASKED FOR

royally flushed by satellitesonparade (YOUNG JUSTICE) princess diaries wally/artemis au

Mistaken Messages by MistyMountainHop (THAT 70′S SHOW) jackie/kelso soulmate au

Acts [1-5] by lone_lilly (CASTLE) castle/beckett smutty goodness

so bad but he does it so well by greenconverses (PERCY JACKSON & THE OLYMPIANS) percy/annabeth college punk/princess au

Poor Unfortunate Soul by makapedia, Peregrine Williams, witchynick (SOUL EATER) maka/soul succubus au

and the camera flashes (make it feel like a dream) by ladililn (BROOKLYN 99) jake/amy celeb photographer/celebrity au

Silent Still by yaba (ONE TREE HILL) brooke/julian ANGSTY FIC set in 6.23

[miastideclock]

Yang Jeongin Drabble, “Inside Beauty.”

@jhopesdimples​ hello! im a new skz and bts blog and i found yours and have been reading all ur skz stuff at the moment. can i request a jeongin drabble where the reader is insecure about being older and slightly bigger than him? preferably filled with angst but a happy ending? it’s okay if not! keep writing it’s so good! 💖

-

Word Count: 1790 Warnings: Eating disorder, but not really??? I don’t know, but just in case it might be triggering, sorry

-

It had been a long day, and you were happy that you could spend the rest of the day hanging out with your boyfriend and your friends. More often than not you found yourself at the Stray Kids dorm, hanging out with the boys and having fun. That was how you ended up falling for Jeongin, and luckily- he returned the favor. 

After months of begging to management, they finally lifted the dating ban for the group, making all of them go over the moon. That included you, as that meant you could go public with Jeongin, the love of your life. 

You knew you weren’t perfect, but Jeongin loved you despite that, and that made you fall for him even more. 

It was no secret that you were on the heavier side, and it probably didn’t help that you were also taller than him. But when you were with Jeongin, you instantly forgot all of that. Or at least until Jeongin’s leader, Chan, got a girlfriend for himself.

She was two years younger than him, about five inches shorter than him, and easing in on the skinny side. She was super nice, and never did you any harm, but she made you think. 

“Would Jeongin prefer it if I was like her? Younger, shorter and all around smaller?” But everytime the thought crossed your mind, you forced it out. He loved you like you were, and nothing could change that. But still, you found yourself thinking whenever you were at the dorm.

“Come sit on my lap.” “Let me give you a piggyback ride!” “You’re so tiny and cute!”

Things you heard on a daily basis, but they were never to you. It was Chan talking to his girlfriend, Lacey. They were super cute together, you had to admit- but it got a bit frustrating at times, always comparing yourself to her. 

After a while, you found yourself skipping meals, and walking the long way to work. You would suggest going for walks rather than watching movies like you always did. Jeongin didn’t notice it at first, and much like a puppy-dog was just excited to spend time with you, whether it was on the couch or going for a walk. He did however, notice when your mood had dropped over the last few weeks. At first he connected it to stress at work, and figured you would talk to him if you needed to- that much he trusted you on. But when you never spoke about it, and you never got any happier, he got concerned. 

You were on a walk the first time Jeongin asked. 

“Y/N, are you okay?” 

It had caught you off guard as he had cut himself off to ask you. You had originally talked about his upcoming schedule, but he figured work talk could wait until later. 

“Yeah, I’m good! Why’re you asking?” You lied through your teeth. You weren’t okay, but you couldn’t tell him. He wouldn’t understand. He had hundred of thousands of girl confessing their undying love for him every single day. They praised him like a god, kept telling him he was perfect just the way he was and that he should never change. He could never understand the feeling of not being good enough.

“Just wondering. Maybe my Spidey-senses are off.” He chuckled and continued to swing your hand back and forth as you walked through the park. 

Another week passed before the topic came up again. You were sleeping over at the dorm as they had nothing scheduled for the next morning, however, you found yourself wide awake at two am. You had tried to force your eyes shut for the past three hours, but to no avail. You eventually gave up and made your way to the kitchen, careful not to wake up your boyfriend, who was sleeping soundly next to you. 

You wanted to make yourself a cup of hot tea to maybe soothe you into sleep, but you forgot where they kept the kettle. After looking through about seventy-five percent of the cupboards, you heard footsteps creep up behind you. You turned around and met the face of a might confused and sleepy Lacey. Chan’s girlfriend.

“Hey, sorry. Did I wake you?” You asked in a whisper, her quickly shaking her head. 

“Oh don’t worry! I was looking to make myself some tea. I assume that’s what you’re doing as well?” She spoke, a smile prominent on her lips.

Lacey was one of the sweetest girls you had ever met, which made the situation even more annoying- because god knows you wanted to dislike her. Dislike her for making you doubt yourself, and even worse- making you doubt Jeongin.

“Yeah, but I forgot where they keep the kettle.” You smiled sheepishly. Lacey chuckled and opened one of the cupboards you had already looked through. “I don’t know why they feel the need to hide it, like if they’re getting robbed, I hardly think this will be the first thing they’d steal.” She snickered and pulled the kettle out from the very back. 

Silence overcame you as she filled it with water and plugged it into the wall. The soft sound of silence blended well with the heating water, it eventually coming to a boil. 

“Would you like milk or sugar?” You asked as you prepared two cups, each with a teabag. You had silently assigned each task, as Lacey watched the kettle and you grabbed the tea.

“I actually have it with a teaspoon of honey! You have to try it, it’s so yummy.” She beamed, grabbing the honey that was sat on the counter. You nodded and let her put the honey in each of the cups before pouring in the boiling water. 

After you had cleared away the equipment and the things you had used, you both grabbed your respected cups and headed to the living room, sitting down on the couch before kick-starting another conversation.

“I know we don’t know each other all that well, but maybe it even helps that we’re borderline strangers. Are you alright these days? I’m so sorry if I come off as intrusive, it’s just that the boys have talked about you acting a bit off lately, and they don’t really know how to go about it.” Lacey spoke in her soft voice, a bit of an accent shining though, but you couldn’t place it. 

Her words hit you harder than you had originally anticipated, making tears burn at the brim of your eyes. 

“I don’t know, Lacey.” Your voice broke and you quickly shifted your gaze from her down to your cup of steaming tea. You weren’t okay, and you knew that. You hadn’t been okay for a while. At first, you thought your insecurities had just been an inconvenience, and nothing more. But as time went by, you found it eating you up from the inside. No matter what it was, you always thought about how you looked, especially compared to Jeongin, and how you were scared to talk to him about it. 

So that was exactly what you told Lacey. And before you knew it, you were crying, as was she when she confessed her own insecurities and issues. It ended up with both of you having to put down your cups on the table, because you were both crying and shaking. 

“I know exactly what you’re feeling, babe. Every single day, we have to look at all of those beautiful fans and its only natural for us to compare ourselves! But I do know one thing. Jeongin loves you just as much as you love him, maybe even more. And yes those fans are beautiful- but as are you. So talk to him, maybe he’ll understand.” Lacey finally spoke after you both had controlled your breathing.

You gave her a hug, and decided it was better to do it now, despite the fact that it was almost four am. If you didn’t do it now, who knows when you’d muster up the courage to do it.

Sneaking back into his room, you closed the door carefully behind you, then made your way over to the bed. Sitting down on the edge you carefully shook his body. “Babe, Jeongin? I need to talk to you.” 

He quickly stirred awake, confused and tired. “What’s going on? Y/N, are you okay?” He suddenly came to it, scared for your wellbeing. 

“Actually, I’m not, and that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I know you asked me a few times last week if I was doing okay, and I lied. I haven’t been doing good for a while. It was like everything hit me all at once, and I don’t know what to say. It’s no secret I’m bigger than you, and that’s never bothered me until recently. I keep seeing all of your beautiful fans, and I keep thinking ‘wow, he has a lot of options. I wonder how long it’ll take before he find someone prettier and better than me. I feel like just a detail in your picture, you know?” You were crying again at this point, and Jeongin looked at you with all the sorrow in the world as he held your hand and listened to you. 

He would never have guessed that was why you had been upset. You always carried yourself with such grace and confidence, it made him swoon. 

“Y/N, baby. Why didn’t you tell me earlier? You know something like that will never happen. Sure, we have pretty fans, but they are nothing compared to you. You are my everything, and even though you are the most breathtaking person I have ever seen, it’s not that that made me fall in love with you. It’s your inside beauty. Your inside beauty shines through your whole self, making you stand out. Not like the flower-crown in a boy’s hair, or the diamonds around a woman’s neck. You are stunning, and so much more than just a detail, you are the picture. You are the view. You can easily be compared to a sunset, or the starry sky a late night, but you are so much more than that too. Both outside and inside beauty like yours is so much rarer than that. You are the northern lights people travel long and far to see. You Y/N, you are unique in the best possible way.” 

You were sobbing, to say the least. Jeongin had even shed a few tears, heartbroken that his baby was hurting. He then quickly pulled you into a hug, holding you tight as you both cried, no longer sad tears, but happy ones.

You couldn’t believe how insanely lucky you were to have someone like him in your life, and that you could call him yours.

“I love you.”

I really hope you like it! 

Feel free to request more!!

-bentley

[stayingsticky]

Peter Parker After Dark

o

Peter Parker x Reader

First Writing Ever for Peter!

Notice: The Aurora Borealis doesn’t necessarily mean magic, I just happen to use it as reference for where magic comes from. (Like Charmed, where the sister’s magic went down due to Wyatt being born) I just thought it’d be a really cool idea. 

Plot: The Aurora Borealis shows up Halloween night and it sparks a shift in Peter’s hormones and his appetite for you becomes insatiable. However, due to his recent attitude you have a different change of plans.

Warning: Orgasm denial, fingering, mirror sex, vibrator play, spanking, cursing, sub y/n. Dom!Peter!

~~~

Peter felt his resilience slowly slipping away from him as the night continued to pass. The drive home was excruciating to say the least, his head pounded at a million miles per hour, his heart beat racing unsteadily and he had a massive hard-on ever since the clock struck twelve. Peter’s spidey senses were off the rails, he was hearing voices from fifteen miles out, he was feeling more paranoid as the day went by, his strength had even grown in numbers. Ned and Happy were baffled themselves to see how easily Peter broke Gwen’s countertop accidentally. He made the best of the night as much as he could without letting these random symptoms affect his mood, however, the longer he remained from you, the more he began to yearn for you. His appetite becoming more insatiable by the second, all he could picture was your body sprawled across the bar as he licked the honey bourbon liquor from your thighs. The way you clutched onto his forearms, the way your nails dug into his back, the way you licked his neck when you teased him. It took all of his might to stifle the moan that peered up the back of his throat.

You and Peter have been together for roughly about three years, and he couldn’t be more in love. You as well, however, you had not accompanied Peter this time, not because you didn’t want to, but because he didn’t tell you. You had caught Peter in the middle of getting dressed just as you arrived home from work. After fighting with him to admit where it was he was going, he finally spoke, though it wouldn’t be the words you wanted to hear. His ex, Gwen was throwing a Halloween party, though they left on good terms and you had no reason to hate her, you couldn’t deny you were jealous. She was still in love with him, that much had been clear, but Peter knew better than to cross lines he couldn’t come back from, however, you still weren’t happy about his made up decision to go. You crossed your arms over your chest in defeat as he kissed your head, goodbye. You were more so upset because you had planned an evening for him, a sweet dinner and then some fun activities to burn off the calories you both had just put on, but he had other plans obviously. 

“Fuck!” Peter curses evidently as his hand strokes over his aching member. 

He couldn’t understand what was happening, his shaft hardening within seconds. The last time he could recall his dick being this hard, is when he saw you for the first time, it was overwhelming for Peter. He hadn’t smelled or seen such a beautiful sight since, during the evening he finally brought up the courage to speak to you his dick wouldn’t stay down. He was so horny to the point where he couldn’t even look at you, seeing nothing but your lips spew his name in bliss. He wanted to rip open the corset top you wore that evening and devour you nonstop, to see you orgasm over his shaft for the rest of the night; to Peter, this was Deja Vu all over again.

Peter honks his horn, causing his own hearing to go deaf momentarily. He clutches his head in vain, his eyes shutting tightly as his ears ring indefinitely for minutes straight. He was impatient when he wanted something, when he desired something and he was so set on getting it. His foot steps on the gas the second the light flickers green and the cars behind him eat nothing but rubber. Peter argued in his mind what he would say to you when he arrived home, he wanted, scratch that, he needed help with his voracious lust but he didn’t know how he would address it. He cursed himself out mentally for fighting with you to begin with, but he didn’t even know what it was himself, it just felt like an itch only you could scratch.

You twirl in the mirror, gandering at your newly delivered outfit. It fit perfectly, the white mini wrap skirt hugging your hips as you smooth it over your thighs. You bit your lip just thinking about how much Peter would love this skirt, it was just right, especially for him. But you shake the thought of Peter, still keeping in the front of your mind that you were undeniably upset with him. You reach for the shirt to match and it falls over your body loosely but hugs it tightly once you zip it up in the front, you push your hair back as it falls over your shoulders and sigh happily. As you turn to gather your other various packages, you fail to hear Peter’s arrival. His tense figure ruffling through his messy curls as he makes his way up the stairs. He huffs heavily in displeasure as he takes a look at his menacing bulge. His figure stops dead in it’s tracks as he watches the beautiful sight his eyes had laid upon. 

His tongue traces over his lips with need as he watches the way your bottom sways in the air, he hums silently in delight, tilting his head to peek underneath your skirt just enough. He smirks to himself as he ganders upon the tag, watching you closely he knows at this point he has the upper hand against your unmindfulness of how close he was to you. Your hands reach toward the back of the skirt to undo the button just below your lower back but before you can, you feel a warm embrace against your back.

“Peter! You scared me.” You breathe deeply as you then soon relax into his figure. 

“Sorry darlin’-” He sighs heavily as he inhales your scent, his nose resting into your neck. “You smell heavenly.” 

His hips push his member into the smooth plush cotton of your ass, you can smell alcohol on his breath but you know better than assume he was drunk, knowing he was no where near. His lips place gentle kisses along your collarbone and you bite your lip in response, Peter knows that you’re still upset, however this undying urge he feels for you suddenly surpasses that. You roll your eyes, making it known to Peter you weren’t in the mood, when that was far from it, his expression changing drastically when you drop his arms from around you. Picking up the packages, you waltz them into your walk-in closet leaving Peter standing there with a confused yet angry look on his face.

“You’re still upset with me aren’t you?” Peter follows behind you, however, you grant him with silence.

He takes a second to watch you, to watch the way the skirt hugs your curves, to watch the way the top makes your breast sit up all perky. Small sweat beads form at his forehead and soon enough, he’s damn near melting, lust choking the life from him as you seduced him without even knowing. 

“Darlin’ please, talk to me, i’m sorry.” He pleads, looking you in the eyes as you come down from the stepping stool and face him. 

“I don’t want to talk to you Peter, you completely ignored everything I told you about at the expense of your ex.” 

You march back to your bedroom, organizing the rest of the packages that were on the floor. Peter follows you back and forth as you assign your new clothes their own privileged spot in your closet. 

“It wasn’t like that baby, I swear.” His arms find themselves pulling you to him as you both rest in front of the mirror unknowingly.

You shake your head unwilling to fight with him this time, you avoid his eyes at all costs knowing what his honey filled irises would do to you. Your lip becomes entangled in your teeth as his shaft throbs against your heat, you can feel how it somewhat connects his to yours and there’s no holding back now. 

“Baby please, I need you tonight-” He sounds almost, in pain. His grip strengths on your hips as he licks your neck softly, his other hand sliding around the back of your neck.

You could feel the indifference in Peter, how something felt so off, it charmed you to know what. The heat that radiated off of him felt ten times hotter and his eyes were darker than usual, something was different about him, but what, you wondered.

“No, Peter. I’m not in the mood.” You ignore his pleas, however, you were lying. 

The heat between your legs had began a pool of it’s own deceit, staining your red lace with your nectar since Peter had hugged you from behind. Sage ringing off of him like an incense left you in paradise, not including the small teasing neck kisses he had begun to leave, by then you were already dripping.

Peter’s patience had been wearing thin since you walked away from him the first time, the imperishable hunger lingering in his eyes since the day began had immersed you in it’s grasp, you were no longer going to escape.

A faint gasp, that sounds loud and clear to Peter escapes your lips as he spins you around quickly, bracing your back against his chest. A devilish smirk materializes on his face as he watches you in the mirror.

“That’s funny being that I can smell your arousal y/n.” His voice sends chills down your spine as he says your name with grace. It rolls off his tongue like cream and you can’t help but melt into him unwillingly. 

His finger graze over your breast and he cups them roughly. Your mouth falls open but nothing comes out, Peter’s patience run’s thinner and thinner you soon begin to realize. In a swift moment, Peter slides his foot between your’s as if to trip you, but instead it becomes a sitting position within split second. Your legs have closed together as you cradle your knees to your chest Peter has other ideas. He pushes your hair to one side, leaving rough kisses along your neck. 

“I haven’t been aroused at all today Peter. Maybe something’s wrong your spidey senses today.” You suggest with shaky words, a smirk given by Peter lets you know that he doesn’t buy any of your lies.

“Then you wouldn’t mind showing me, would you?” His hands have your knees spread in the blink of eye. 

In this exact moment, you curse yourself out mentally for wearing red lace and your face flushes with embarrassment. He hums sexily into your ear upon noticing your wet patch, his tongue licks a long streak up your neck and onto your earlobe as he rips off your panty swiftly, you hardly even move.

“Those were my favorite, Peter.” You gasp deeply, his fingers wasting no time finding their way to your core.

“Stop, calling me Peter.” He growls harshly, his fingers teasing your center, just barely touching it. You could sense how you were pushing his buttons, the right one’s.

“That’s your name, is it not?” You smirk slightly with a fearful voice. 

Peter looks at you in the eyes through the mirror as you nibble at your lip, his eyebrows are furred and you can tell he isn’t really happy about your latest remark. Gripping your hips, he shifts you forward bringing his legs to close, he pulls you to him laying your bottom over his knees. You squeal in anticipation, his demeanor raining down heavy over you as he undoes the button he stopped you from doing. The cold gust of wind breezes over your bottom as the skirt falls over his lap, you nearly moan at the feeling of the cold air against your heat. 

Peter says nothing as the weight of his hand clashes with your bottom, you squeal out in pain and bliss as he does this again. You shield your bottom with your hands in order to prevent further collision but Peter doesn’t stand for it.

“What’s my name darlin?” He growls slightly as he pushes your hair from your face gently. 

“Peter,” You gasp with regret, but you also know it’s worth it. Peter hadn’t punished you often, only when you refused to listen or disrespected him, however today, he was just not in the mood for your shit.

SMACK!

Another hand clashes with your nearly red ass, the sound echoing throughout the room as you followed through with a yelp of your own. You were desperately enjoying this, your core becoming wetter and wetter with every second, your nipples hardening with every slap. He holds your hands behind your back and matched with his strength, you weren’t going to win. Although, you wanted more.

“My name!” He’s strict this time, his voice enduring more bass, you know you’re pissing him off right about now.

SMACK!

You cry out in a simple moan as he does this again, this time harder, the echo trails for a few seconds after and it leaves him harder than ever. Peter’s patience filing thin, but he wants you know that he’s not up for this shit, not today, not now.

“Daddy!” You whimper blissfully, his pet name rolling off your tongue like a firecracker had him weak at the knees. 

He sighs in relief, dipping a finger into your aching mound before pulling you back to the original position. He holds your left leg open with his hand as he traces your clit in small circles, your head falls back with ease, but he’s still barely touching you. You push your hips into his fingers but he pulls them back more, keeping the same pressure, you whine in agony and it releases a chuckle from his lips. 

“I bet you want more, don’t you darlin?” His voice is low and ravishing as he teased you.

Your eyes fluttering as his fingers traced over your desperate heat, his other hand unzips the top, leaving it to fall at your sides. Your nipple becomes his playground as he fiddles around your teat, his index flicking it in small circles as you stifle your moans. 

“Oh, yes-” You moan abruptly, pushing back into him.

“Too bad you were too busy being such a bad girl for daddy.” He then disappears behind you as you watch him stand, a unfulfilled expression plastered on your face.

Soon after he returns, he has something suede in his hands. You watch him intently as he sits behind you once again, spreading your legs to where they once were. He unties the knot on the suede covering and something silver and shiny falls from the sack. You suddenly remember this, Valentines day, one year, you pissed him off purposely and paid for it, with this. He had you shaking and quivering for hours, begging to orgasm already.

“Pete, no, please-” You breath heavily as he sets the vibration, his hand clasping around your neck as you call him, Pete.

“You’re going to watch yourself in the mirror as I tease and torture you with this, if you so much as think you’re going come, I best know. Understood babygirl?” He has a husky tone, aggressive too. His dick throbbing against your ass as he watches your core leak his beautiful juices, his mouth watering like ribs falling off the bone.

“Yes.” It’s the only thing you can say because in no time, he has the vibrator against your nipple as his middle finger swirls your clit. 

Your eyes roll back and you can feel your legs closing, you pry them open as you moan in bliss. Your sorrows of pleasure filling the room as he watches you. Peter moves the vibrator, bringing it to your lips, you grant him access and he uses your saliva as a lube for your teats, reapplying the same pressure once again. Your back rolls against him as he finally dips a finger into your begging heat. He moans himself, feeling how wet and tight you are. Your nails dig into the skin around his wrist as he pulls the finger in and out slowly. 

“If you weren’t being such a brat, my dick would already be inside you darlin.” He moans as he drags his finger from your heat back to your sensitive nub. 

You say nothing, your moans have gone silent and he can tell you’re so close. Your thighs are trembling gently and he continues to rub your clit slowly. Your moans are now gasps and he can hear how fast your heart is beating. 

“Ri..there.” You gasp out frantically as he speeds up his movements, however they stop once you inhale deeply. Your orgasm firing back down as he pulls the vibrator and his fingers from where you want him the most.

“Peter no-” You whine out as his fingers fall from your heat, emptiness and need filling your core.

“Still calling me Peter I see.” He has the vibrator against your heat this time, and it’s on max.

He has your wrist between his hands as you writher against him, your eyes roll back as the vibrator circles around your clit, you can’t help but smile in pleasure, and it makes Peter more needy.

“You’re so sexy, smiling in bliss. Such a beautiful slut for me.” He pinches your nipple, the feel creating an electric charge that fired up your backside.

“So, close...” You cry out as you ride your hips on the length of the vibrator.

Your orgasm feels like heaven as it surges up further but the release is no longer there, Peter pulls the vibrator from you, leaving you needy and dripping. Orgasm denial, you hated it. It’s soon replaced by his fingers, which are drilling into you, curling up and stroking the parts you need him to the most. His other hands fumbles your clit, giving you unsteady movements purposely as he kissed your neck, sucking softly. He was giving you what you wanted, bringing you right to cloud nine and then letting it float away, you were envious of it, but it all felt so good at the same time.

“Please, daddy, let me..” You beg with a whisper, his eyes watching you closely as you ride his fingers. 

His thumb finds a steady rhythm finally and it feels nearly overwhelming, his speed increasing as he curls his fingers again. You reach for your own teat, twisting and twirling it to your own liking as you reach closer and closer to bliss. You reach behind you, playing and pulling on the small curls at the nape of his neck, he growls deeply, his dick straining beneath the fabric of his jeans. 

“Come for daddy, come on daddy’s fingers. Right now.” He commands and you obey, his voice, mixed with the feeling and the image was enough to keep you satisfied for life. 

Your head lays on his shoulder as he sucks along your exposed neck, your orgasm surges through you, it creates a fuzzy cloud in your mind, Peter riding you down from your high. “That’s it, such a good girl.” He pulls his fingers from your core, his mouth taking them in with no hesitation, your clit throbs watching him, it nearly makes you wanna orgasm again as he moans in delight. 

“Knees. Now.” He demands, his eyes turning a shade of black as he rises to his feet. 

Your mouth waters as you watch him anxiously, his pants drop to the floor and you hungrily greet his red throbbing member with happiness. Your lips kiss the tip and it’s enough for Peter to curse throughly. Peter throws his head back in bliss once your mouth wraps around his shaft, his fingers interlock themselves in your hair quickly. Aggression was calling Peter’s name furiously, his knees trembling as you licked around his tip. 

“Fuck, babygirl.” He growled deeply as he looked down at you, your head bobbing slowly on his member.

Peter without remorse and thought began to thrust his hips forward, his aggression pulling through as he hit the back of your throat. You didn’t gag, but rather took on the challenge, your hands falling to your sides as he began to fuck your face. You felt yourself liking this more than you thought, your hand sliding between your thighs, you moan as you rub your clit in bliss, the vibrations giving Peter chills as you indulged him deeper. You pull a moan from his lips again as you press his tip to the back of your throat. 

“Fuck this!” He roared, pulling his hard member from your mouth. 

Peter marched over to the chaise, bringing it back over with him and threw you on top of it. His hand bent you over the backboard, your heartbeat increasing dramatically. Peter was frustrated, sexually and you could feel his tension, which was gonna be let out all over you. 

His tip lines up with your entrance, he hums seductively as he pushes himself inside you, his thrusts ragged and quick. He holds onto your hips as he licks at your neck, Peter feels primal, this feels primal. Like he needs this or else. 

“Pete, holy-” You gasp as your head falls forward, Peter however disagrees with your actions. 

His fingers tangle themselves in your hair and he pulls at the roots, your eyes roll back as his speed increases. 

“Watch yourself as I fuck you, princess-” He moans into your ear as he pushes deeper. “So tight, so wet, so pretty, and all mine.”

The chaise beneath you begins to creak, his strength increasing with every thrust, with every moan you slip. Peter’s spider side becoming more alluring as it begins to show. Then suddenly, he stops, turning you onto your back as he holds your knees above his elbows. His length filling you up as he pounds into you effortlessly, he smirks as he watches your eyes close and flutter with pleasure. Your nails dig into his flesh, Peter hisses, his hips following up with rougher thrusts than the last. You could feel him rearranging your guts and had little place to think, you knew the chaise wasn’t gonna last and neither would you. Your fingers flip around his curls as he takes your nipple into his mouth, his harsh punishment on your sex leaving you weak and wanting. Peter could taste his blood in the air as you drew it from his back.

“Who’s your daddy princess?” He releases your nipple flying over to the next, his hips creating a wave rhythm that would allow himself to curl up into your spot. Your toes curl and Peter braces his hands against the chaise as he nibbles at your teat. “Answer me!” He howls.

“Coming, daddy.” Were the only words you could put together as his eyebrows fur together. He was angry now, your orgasm rippling through you as you arched into him.

Peter’s thrust seemed endless, they were hard, rough, the chaise cracking underneath his slightest pressure but he didn’t care. He was close all he needed was your touch and that you gave him. Your fingers lock in his hair as you pull, still trying to ride our your current high, Peter’s hips smash against yours as his release finally arrives. His loud groan filling the air with fulfillment as he empties inside you. 

“Fuck y/n.” He curses into your ear, your breaths being the only silence created. 

“What came over you?” You huff heavily.

“Who said it’s gone?” Peter smirked, you could tell he meant it but were you ready? 

CRACK!

The chaise collapses beneath you, as silent as it once was it is no longer. You and Peter’s laughs fill the room as you chuckle over what happened. Peter kisses you roughly, his hands sliding over your body.

“Round two?” His eyebrow raises.

“Maybe we should hit the bed this time...” You giggle and you and Peter rush to the mattress.

~~~~

THANK YOU FOR READING! Reblog, Like, Comment. 

[missdawnandherdusk]

A Guy Worth Getting Expelled For

Draco X Gryffindor!Reader

Part One    Part Two    Part Three    

Part Four     Part Five

Summary: So maybe you and Draco figured out that you don’t have to hate each other... but that about the rest of the school? 

A/N: Who is ReADy foR ThiS!? Because I promise you all, you’re not. It’s been one of my favorite parts so far but let me know what you think! I love you guys and your feedback so don’t be afraid to comment or reblog! (Also this is over 3k words because I have no self control anymore)

Tags: @un-limiteddd @geekysimmerthings @coffee-addicti @ilikestuffproductions @msmcsmutt @ravn-87 @artemismohr18 @whygz @crazywritingbug @dolphincommander @bisexualbumblebeesstuff @fuzzy-panda @bitemebro522 @zombiesnips-blog @jillanaholland @shookyungsoo @savingdraco @welcometomyworldwithoutrules @akari180 @slytherin-emerald @chaotic-good-gemini @memalfoy-spidey

The weekend passed, and due to final exams, I was holed up in my room most of the time. That’s what was nice about rooming with Hermione, I could cook my own food—the Muggle way—and she wouldn’t tell on me. Ramen was a lifesaver as we studied.

I hadn’t heard form Draco at all. Part of me wondered if he figured it out. The letter he wrote to me was getting worn form the amount of times that I unfolded and refolded it each time I reread his words.

The boys did coax us both down to dinner Sunday night, however. They weren’t quite convinced that I was fine and were still at my defense despite my change in mood and constant protests. In fact, it seemed like every Gryffindor in our year and then some were ready at my defense.

“Do you want us to sneak a doxy into his room?” Fred offered. “We’ll do it. Free of charge.” 

“No, I’m okay, really,”

“We could do it anyway,” George suggested.

“No,” I said firmly as we sat in the Great Hall.

Dinner came and passed, and I didn’t have to look over my shoulder for Draco because Ron and Harry were doing a great job of that already. There was no way I was going to be able to walk to Draco with this... protection squad hovering—and not listening to me when I said I was fine.

My heart did flutter as both Harry and Ron tensed, glaring at the door to the Hall. A smile found its way to my face as I turned, finding clam blue eyes.

“I’ll get him,” Harry said, getting up from the table and Ron following suit.

“Guys, wait, no!” I scrambled to get up, tripping over my robes before righting myself, a few paces behind them, Hermione at my heels.

The students who were in the Hall also noticed what was going on and all looked our way. Some stood to get a better look. This was going to get very bad very fast if someone didn’t do something. And, apparently, I had to be that someone.

“You have some nerve Malfoy!” Harry sneered, drawing his wand.

My adrenaline spiked as Draco kept his cool, keeping his eyes on me. I tried to tell him that this wasn’t my idea and that they didn’t know and that I would fix this, but maybe that was too much to tell him in one look.

I caught up to Harry and pushed past him. Turning and facing Harry—the same way that Draco had done for me against Pansy—I glared him down.

“What are you doing!?” I demanded. “I told you! It was fine!”

“But he hurt you! He deserves this!” Harry exclaimed.

“Pansy was the one who made me cry not Draco!” I laid out. “He... He protected me from her,”

Harry gaped at me and so did Ron, Hermione was beaming. There was a rumbling through the students who had gathered around us. Why did I keep finding myself in these situations?

“No way, I don’t believe it,” Harry hissed. “Malfoy would never, and not for you.”

“And how would you know!?” I demanded. “You’re so absorbed in yourself that you never stop to look, or think, or ask questions!”

“So now you’re taking his side!?” Harry fumbled.

I scoffed and threw my hands up in exasperation.

“Why does there have to be sides!? Why do we have to fight!?” 

“He’s a Slytherin!”

“Great! And I’m a Pisces! What does it matter!” I annunciated each word, taking a few calming breaths. “He deserves to be helped and loved as much as you do Harry,” My voice was barely audible.

Now Harry was glaring me down, his anger shifting from Draco to me, which was fine, I could handle Harry easy—Golden Boy or not.

There was a hand on my shoulder.

I turned, meeting Draco’s eyes.

“I’m not worth this.” He murmured softly. “Don’t... not because of me.”

He was so close now. I could feel the fear and desperation almost tangibly as he pleaded with me to back down, and maybe that broke me more. For him to think that he wasn’t worth saving. That he wasn’t worth fighting for.

“Did you figure it out?” I asked softly, completely ignoring Harry and the others behind me. Draco held my focus now. “Who sent me the letter and who I told my mother about?”

He nodded and looked down. How could he know that he was the one that I had chosen, and he still didn’t think it was right for me to fight for him?

“What? Is Malfoy jealous over who you’re crushing on?” Ron jeered and the crowd snickered.

Draco turned red, gritting his teeth, I saw his hand reach for his wand, but I beat him to it and drew mine. Spinning around, almost hissing at Ron, everyone backed away from me, sensing the danger I assumed.

“I don’t think he can be jealous,” I snapped, tilting my chin back. “But the rest of you can,”

Without much thought or time in the moments between, I grabbed Draco’s hand and pulled him closer. I met his eyes for an instant, and I could see and feel the coolness of a lake, the refreshing wave of the ocean. There was an electric current between us.

I brought my hand to cup his face ever so gently—grimacing when he flinched as if I was going to hit him—and quickly pressed my lips to his. He froze under my touch but relaxed almost instantly, which was a bit shocking, but comforting. His hands rested on my waist and he pulled me a step closer.

His lips were soft and hesitant on mine. The electric current didn’t wane, instead it seemed to be stronger than before. It was better than what any potion could offer, or spell could conjure.

I had to pull away in fear that I might spend all night kissing him.

The situation around us settled back in, and though neither of us could keep the smiles off our faces it was Draco who spoke before I could.

“If anyone has anything they’d like to say, you’ll answer to both of us,” There was smugness and pride in his voice as he said ‘us.’

I couldn’t lie, I liked it too.

The crowd broke out into mutters and whispers, some of which were encouraging, some baffled, and some downright cruel—most of which came from either Gryffindor or Slytherin. My hand found Draco’s as an anchor in the midst of it all, not sure what was coming next.

Harry stormed off and Ron gave an apologetic look before going after him and Hermione followed suit. As much as I was alright on standing on my own, their absence hurt.

“Mr. Malfoy! Miss Lupine! My office! Now!” It was McGonagall.

My heart sank as the students scattered in fear of also getting in trouble for something that they may or may not have done. It left Draco and me alone walking to McGonagall’s office under her gaze. Somewhere along the way Snape caught up to us, and to my surprise, Dumbledore.

I gave Draco an apologetic look, but his face was a mask of calm and indifference—courage in the face of danger. I followed his lead as we sat in McGonagall’s office as the three discussed what to do with us outside the door.

“Why didn’t you tell me it was me? When we were on the stairs?” He asked softly.

I shrugged.

“I don’t think I was ready,” I admitted. “It was... a hard day.”

“Sorry again,” He mumbled sheepishly.

We sat side by side together, waiting for whatever was about to happen. I feared for the worst and I could tell do did Draco. The memory of his lips on mine however, kept me somewhat same and comforted.

“I’m sorry I dragged you into all of this,” I whispered. “This is all my fault,” 

“No, it’s not Y/n. You know that,” He argued. “I had a good part in it too.”

“I should have just left it alone,” Tears were in my eyes as I started to realize the gravity of the situation.

“No,” He said firmly, catching my eyes. “You’re right, this has gone on too long.”

Again, his hand slipped into mine and I felt grounded. It was odd, finding comfort in someone that I had hated only a few months ago.

The three Professors came down and we dropped our hands quickly, as we both looked down.

“It has come to our attention that you two have caused quite a bit of trouble,” Dumbledore began.

“Please, sir. It was me. Not her.” Draco stood, taking a small step in front of me.

Shock flitted across the faces of the professors, and mine. I didn’t know what I was expecting but it wasn’t that.

“No, it was me. I’m the one who kissed him and provoked Harry.” I stood next to him, almost pushing him out of the way. “Whatever punishment... I’ll take it in full... even if that means expulsion.” My voice wavered as the words slipped out.

“Y/n,” Draco protested and turned to me.

“Your dad will kill you in you get in trouble because of me,” I argued. “And... I can’t let that happen. So... please, Draco,”

I didn’t know what I was asking for exactly, but I knew that if his father found out... he’d be in worse trouble than whatever the school could come up with.

“No, forget about my father. I don’t care what he thinks. You’re not talking all the fault. I won’t let you,”

I bit my lip, thousands of words wanting to escape them just as the tears that threatened to fall. Why hadn’t I seen this in him before? Why hadn’t anyone?

Draco Malfoy could be good. He could be selfless. He could be loved.

“If I may,” Dumbledore began again. “Neither of you are in trouble nor are you getting expelled.”

“What?” We both snapped, turning to the three professors.

Hope fluttered in my chest, that maybe once we would both be okay. That we could both make it out of here.

_______________________

Out in the hall...

“Has it happened?” Dumbledore asked. “The legacy?”

“Yes,” McGonagall confirmed. “I got a letter from her mother early Saturday to keep an eye out, and I saw it tonight at dinner.”

“You believe that these two are the ones to end the feud?” Snape asked cautiously.

“Something much darker than us all is coming Severus,” Dumbledore sighed. “And they might be the ones we need to stop it.”

“But I don’t understand why stopping an old family feud solves anything.” Snape hissed.

“Because it’s not a family feud, it’s a house feud and always has been. For too long Slytherin and Gryffindor have been pitched against one another unhealthily and perhaps this can right what has been wrong for so long,” McGonagall noted hopefully.

............................

“Miss Lupine, you should be expecting a letter from your mother soon. I suggest you both read it together and decide for yourselves whether you want to accept what is in it or not.” Dumbledore explained.

“What kind of letter?” I prompted and McGonagall gave me a scolding look as Dumbledore simply smile.

“Oh, you are so much like your mother,” His eyes twinkled. “Give her my best and please remember, each of you are more than a name,”

_________________________

Draco walked down the hall with you beside him. He couldn’t think of a thing to say. There were too many to say. There was too much to talk about and it was driving him mad that you were lost in thought.

“Any ideas on where to go? To read the letter?” You finally spoke.

Your voice sounded unsure and afraid, with a nervousness that came with expectation. He had never heard you speak like that. You were always so sure of yourself—courageous, like any proper Gryffindor.

But now, your eyes filled with tears and worry. Your arms were crossed across your chest, as if they had the ability to keep you together if you held on tight enough. He knew that you never showed anyone this side of you—not even that Mudb- your friend Hermione. Because he never showed anyone either.

“Come with me,” He said, not giving anything away and led you through the castle wordlessly.

You followed him without a protest, a quip, snide remark, or question. And he couldn’t lie, it was nice; it worried him too, being afraid wasn’t in your nature.

Taking a sharp right, he paused, opening the door for you. You quirked an eyebrow and a teasing smile. You knew where he led you and it amused you, he could see it in your features. That was the you he knew.

You ascended the staircase and through the trapdoor with him at your heels. You faltered one and he caught you easily—knowing it would happen: it was the reason he had made you go before him—your cheeks turning a deep red as you quickened your pace.

Alone in the Astronomy Tower, Draco saw a small screech owl awaiting the two of you, letter attached. It was the same owl who had given him your letter all those nights ago, it must be yours.

You didn’t go to the owl—even though it chirped at you annoyed. Instead, you went to the window and stared at what he did almost every night that he couldn’t sleep: the stars blanketed over the mountain range and the lake as night consumed the world around them.

Knowing that you would want to gaze for some time, he took the letter for the owl and shooed it off, but it remained.

“I’ll give you something later Penelope, thank you,” You cooed softly stroking the birds head gently before it flew off.

Unsure of his actions, Draco stood close beside you, watching the night unfold with you. Your hand found his and his thoughts about what needed to be answered or what the letter held paused. Your warmth invited him in, lured him to be still and just... feel.

“I’m scared,” The confession left your lips. “I’ve been waiting my whole life for my mother to tell me what this fight was all about and now...” You turned to him, true despair on your face.

“Whatever it is, we do it together,” He murmured, “Remember, we get to choose if we want to accept it or not,”

“But don’t we have to?” Your thoughts mirrored his: he had expectations to live up to and he wanted to prove himself to his father and his family.

“We’ll see,” He reached up and stroked your face softly.

You pursed your lips as he offered you the letter. You took it and with one last hopeless look to him you opened it and read it aloud:

~

My dearest Y/n, and charming Draco,

I hope this letter finds you both well. I have written to each of your House Heads letting them know to give you time to read this together if fate allows.

Y/n, my darling, please stop your fretting, I can feel it from here. You are alright no matter what you choose, but I do hope you choose the path of love.

Draco, hello, we haven’t met formally, but I must thank you for standing up for my daughter against one of your own house. It was a brave and kind thing to do and you have my deepest respect.

Now, about the feud. I know you have asked many times what it has always been about and perhaps it is time to finally tell you:

Our families have always been intertwined in the fate of the wizarding world as pure-blood families. Long ago, it was said that one of Lupine and one of Malfoy decent would be the ones to mend the rift between pure-bloods and muggle-born.

You can see why this caused such a feud. I’m sure even now Mr. Draco you are thinking that this is preposterous, and perhaps you as well my child. For how can two pure-bloods whom hate another possible med anything?

Well, no one knows. And no one wanted to know either. The Malfoy’s were always against muggle-born and swore vengeance on them all. The Lupine’s have always been proud and swore to never fraternize with a Malfoy. Centuries and generations passed, and our stories have been twisted and distorted to what you know today.

I did try my love to keep you away as best I could from it, but some things are very deep rooted, and I am sorry that I failed you. But now it comes to you two.

From what I have heard from you my darling, it sounds as if Mr. Draco may be the one you were meant for. It was once called Consentire Animi Pace—an old thought that souls reached for another to bring harmony in the world around them through magic.

I am not forcing this upon either you, nor am I making assumptions. I would just like you both to know that it does exist and not to deny that it does and that it may be what our Antiqui were speaking of when the legacy was given.

My darling Y/n, I am proud of you no matter your choice and I love you without a doubt. I am proud of your achievements and your courage to reach out to someone you had no reason to reach out to.

My dear Draco, I am proud of you no matter your choice and I extend my love to you as well. I know that your parents are not as forgiving when it comes to family names as I am. You will have a home in our family—whether that be Y/n and I or the entire family if they decide to stop being so... Anyway. I am proud of you as well and for what you have done. You had no reason to protect my daughter and you did and I am proud of you on that fact alone. You have truly exceeded your expectations, whether your father sees that or not.

Don’t not be afraid of what is before you nor the choices that you must make. It is not about the right choice; it is about the righteous one—the one made with the right heart. It is easier to correct ignorance rather than disobedience.

My love goes to you both, both of you write me back please. 

Love, Magdalene Lupine

~

.

.

Part 7

[drunk-onsunlight]

Day #3 of Promptmas

Chapter 3: Mind if move in closer?

Summary:

Movie night between Ned, Betty, MJ and Peter and a little of Spidey patrolling NYC

Chapter 1: Beautiful what’s your hurry?

Chapter 2: I’ll hold your hands (they’re just like ice) 

Chapter 3

Concept: Caroling & Watching Christmas movies together

Dialogue: “The best way to spread Christmas cheer is singing loud for all to hear!” & “I love you but your taste on Christmas music is horrible”

“Peter? Are you listening to me?” Ned told him over the earpiece. Peter was distracted. Thank God he wasn’t swinging, the cold air was hitting his face while he was sitting on a rooftop.

“sorry Ned. I’m just thinking about something”

“and that’s clearly bothering you. What is it? Is Morgan ok?” Peter loved the way his friends bounded with his little sister, they weren’t actually related but the feeling was just the same. And having Ned, Betty and MJ get along with her was pure magic, he felt like he could trust them with big things like the Stark relationship he held with not just Tony but Pepper, Morgan and Happy, even when MJ and Betty didn’t know he is Spider-Man.

“something Pepper said today.  I don’t know what she was talking, well, not what a who”

“a who? Ok, you need to speak clearly, you don’t make any sense, Peter”

"you know Morgan was visiting the apartment, right?" "yeap. What about that?" "well, at some point we were chatting and drinking some hot chocolate and Pepper called, I had the call on speaker and she said something a about "my girlfriend" that she wanted to meet her and should take her to their house for a coffee or a lunch or whatever. But I don't have a girlfriend" "yes, that's a little weird. Did Morgan know about that?" "no! She totally freak out and threat me for keeping secrets from her, then Em told her I was too weird to date someone and that was it" why he was friking out so much about a stupid conversation? He didn't have a girlfriend and he just needed to call Pepper and correct her. That was it "Peter, are you scared that MJ may think you actually have a girlfriend?" Peter sensed the smile on Ned's face without seeing him "what? Of course no. She doesn't have to do anything with this" nop, she wasn't the problem, he was just to anxious to call Pepper and correct her "hum. You sure? I remember you having a massive crush on her back in senior year at high school. Maybe living with her made those feelings show up again" now he was regretting telling Ned about that all those years ago "Ned, that was a long time ago and then, well, you know, Gwen and all of that happened and I don't think I have feelings for MJ or that I want to have a relationship with someone" Gwen was everything he ever dreamed in a girl and his Spider-Man duties messed everything up leaving him with another death on his shoulders alongside Ben's. That's exactly why he tried to protect MJ, she didn't need to be in danger just because she knew his secret identity. Ned never had problems with him being a target for being a FOS, but with Betty, that was other story and the same reason she didn't know either. "I'm just saying Peter. This doesn't have to be about Gwen or even MJ, it's about you totally friking out about something that can be fixed with a call. You need to sleep, all this patrol and the cold are messing with your head. Go get some rest Pete" Ned was right, he needed to sleep and call Pepper to clarify the wrong information. "I'm calling it quits for tonight. It was a slow night after all. Thanks for listening Ned, say hi to Betty for me please" after a short goodbye and a promise for a movie date with Peter and MJ, Ned finished the call and Peter got up from the rooftop. He arrived home at 2am, he was glad they could pay a small apartment with windows on both their rooms and not just one, like others he had visited while looking for a place to move. That made everything easier, MJ never knew when he went out or came back from patrol, and if something was too bad he texted her that he was out early when he probably was recovering in the Avengers facilities. The next day he woke up to MJ humming a pop song, she was in a good mood so probably she already took a tea or a coffee. Peter got 4 full hours of sleep since he arrived from patrol and he considered that a win.

“Mornin’” Peter knew he looked totally wrecked but he felt good, like the Christmas spirit was taking over him.

“Hey, loser. Want some coffee?” Her hair was on a messy bun. All her curls were framing her face, she looked beautiful.

“Yeah. Thanks”

“I was thinking, maybe we could decorate today. Do you have something to do?”

“Aammm, no. I’m free. Jameson haven’t called and I am not offering myself until next Monday, I’m really tired” Ned was right, he needed to rest. Rhino, college, The Bugle… J. J. Jameson and his idea that Spider-Man was a threat but anyway having photos of him on every front page he could, everything was too much right now.

“Have you talked to Ned? He said something about a movie night with Betty the other day when we talked” Yes! The movie night they have agreed last night.

“Yeah. He mentioned something last night. We can decorate the apartment and then invite them for some fun. I think we need it” He knew MJ was stressed too and having Betty and Ned around was a good distraction for everyone.

He took his coffee and then helped MJ doing some scrambled eggs for they breakfast and he went to take a shower. After his shower he changed clothes to some Christmas sweeter that he knew MJ was going to make fun of it. While he was deciding in using his Spider-Man socks or his Christmas tree socks he started playing some carols on his phone. He created a full playlist on his Spotify for this moment.

He went out of his room and found Michelle carrying the boxes with the Christmas decorations. How she managed to hold three boxes at the same time was a mystery. If he didn’t knew he was Spider-Man he could swear that she was Spider-Man, but that was a stupid idea. MJ was strong enough to lift the boxes by herself without superpowers, maybe they weren’t that heavy and he was just making things up.

“Oh, God! Seriously? That one?” Peter knew MJ didn’t like that sweeter. It was a Rudolf one with a big red nose that you pressed and it started playing Christmas carols, May bought it for him two years ago and he loved it.

“I know you secretly love it. Press the nose”

“No!”

“Press the nose. I know you want to” He crossed the living room and got close to her

“No! Stop it” She started to run away from him, sorting boxes while crossing the room

“Press the nose, come on MJ!” he was trying to get to her and they ended up running around the sofa, avoiding the boxes and the coffee table. MJ started laughing when Peter got close to her and tried to grab her arm but she managed to get loose and he ended holding her hand for a few seconds until she kept running away.

“We need to start decorating or Ned and Betty are going to arrive and we haven’t done anything” She was still laughing. Peter loved to make her laugh, it wasn’t an easy task but he loved the challenge.

They spend the morning and past midday decorating a Christmas tree that was basically some fake branches placed like a real Christmas tree, MJ said it reflected her soul. Every Christmas, Peter decorated the branches with bright colors, he hang some toys or pushies and tried to add many colors to it. He said to MJ that it was the perfect representation of the two of them, the black, perfectly placed branches for her and the colorful decorations for him.

MJ placed the stockings on their small fake fireplace along with some holly, then moved to the window and decorated it with led lights and tinsel, she finished the decorations placing the wreath on their front door. Everything looked perfect, now they needed to set their cushions and blankets for their movie night.

Two hours later the apartment looked totally different from the day before. Ned and Betty arrived after MJ and Peter took their lunch. They opened the door and found a very smiley Betty using a pink dress and a huge fluffy coat accompanied with Ned using a Christmas sweeter and jeans.

“Hey Betty!” MJ and Betty always found lots of things to talk about. Betty had managed to make MJ open more about her feelings, her college and even family, Peter was very impressed by Betty and her ability to make MJ talk like her life depended on it. But Ned and Peter were never included in those kinds of conversations.

“Hey Dork” in high school MJ called them losers or dorks, now Peter was the loser and Ned was the dork. MJ and Ned did a little hand shake they made up in high school and she moved back a little so Peter could say hi to their friends while everybody entered the apartment. Ned and Peter did their usual handshake and then Peter kissed Betty’s cheek.

“MJ, the apartment looks amazing” Betty was looking around the living room like she was in the White House and surrounded of the most beautiful Christmas decorations

“It was mostly me so, thank you”

“Hey!! I helped!”

“The tree, right Peter?” Betty knew them too well

“Of course. That masterpiece is my doing” He was very proud of this year results with the decoration of the tree and Ned was looking at it like it was the most beautiful Christmas tree ever

“I love it, Peter” Ned said, always being the supporting friend

“MJ we can make some pizza for the movie night while the boys look for the movies we can watch. Would you like that?” Peter knew that was a key word for “we need to talk without loser and dork listening”

“Yes! I would love to” They moved quickly to the kitchen and started talking right away in whispers.

“That was fast” Ned was looking at Betty with adoring eyes while Peter was looking at MJ moving around the kitchen, totally owning the small space

“Well, we can make the best of our time without them”

“Christmas carols?” they looked at each other on a silent talk they have grown to develop along the years they have meet

Peter showed Ned his playlist full of Christmas carols and they connected a small speaker so they could hear the music through the whole apartment.

“ Jingle bells, jingle bells Jingle all the way Oh, what fun it is to ride In a one horse open sleigh”

The speaker started to sing and soon both of them started to sing along.

“Hey, jingle bells, jingle bells Jingle all the way Oh, what fun it is to ride In a one horse open sleigh”

Ned turned the volume up and stared to sing louder with Peter, making both girls to turn around and look at them. They were singing louder and louder each time the same lines were sung by the speakers on the living room.

“Ned!!!” Peter heard Betty over the loud music and pocked Ned for him to just sing louder

“Ned, Betty is calling you” Peter told Ned close to his ear so he made sure Ned was listening to him. He stopped singing and ran to the kitchen to hug Betty

“I’m here. Do you need anything?” Peter could see how soft Ned was around Betty all the time, it was really nice to see them so happy and comfortable with each other

“Yes. Can you do me a favor? Stop singing, please. I love you but your taste on Christmas music is horrible” Betty was looking at Ned with all the love in the planet but serious enough for Ned to know that she mean it

“Not just that the song is totally awful and the lyric doesn’t make sense but also that you both are terrible singers”

“Aw MJ! But the best way to spread Christmas cheer is singing loud for all to hear!”

“Then can you take some singing lessons for next year?” MJ was teasing him, he wasn’t that bad at singing. He knew it

“Just if you sing with me” He had heard MJ singing and she was really good at it, but she never let anyone hear her singing too loudly, just soft whispers. With that comment MJ turned around and kept doing the base for the pizza. Ned said something to Betty’s ear and then gave her a little peck on the cheek and moved away from her.

Peter could see MJ and Betty chatting while Betty was putting some toppings for the pizza, at the same time she was telling Michelle something and they both looked excited over what they were speaking. Well, as excited as MJ could look over Betty’s news. Her face was mostly expressionless but her eyes were shinning, that was all he needed to know she was interested in whatever they were talking.

“Peter?”

“Mmm?”

“Can you stop looking at MJ with those puppy eyes and pay attention to me?” Ned had a mocking tone

“I’m not making “puppy eyes” at MJ”

“Then I’m getting worried if those eyes are for Betty” Ned was having too much fun mocking him “But seriously, I need to tell you something” Peter turned his head to see Ned’s face and found mixed emotions there

“What is it?”

“I need your help for buying Betty’s Christmas present”

“Yeah, of course. Do you know what to buy or you want me to ask her casually what she wants?”

“I know what I’m buying but I need you to go with me and pick it with me”

“Okaaaay… Can I know what is it? It’s like a big thing? Do we need to hire someone to help us take it to your house?” Peter was confused to say the least

“I’m buying an engagement ring” Ned spoke so fast and so quiet that if it wasn’t for Peter superpowers he had totally missed the phrase

“Ned, that’s amazing!” Peter was really happy for them and totally available to help them to be happy together

“It’s not a surprise, but it is a surprise. We have talked about getting married eventually and we have been dating for a long time and living together is just feels right, so I want to make it official” Peter had a small flashback to a few hours ago, how living with someone felt right. Him trying to catch MJ, making breakfast and shopping with Morgan. Some things felt right, so he totally got what Ned was talking about. Not that he was getting married to MJ but they were close enough to understand the feeling

“Tell me when and where and I will be there. I will be happy to help”

“Thanks! I really want to pick the perfect ring for her” now Ned was making puppy eyes at Betty. It was really cute to see them so in love after such a long time.

“Guys! Pizza is almost done so that movies better be ready” Betty was pointing at them with a spatula as a threat

“They will be ready when you both finish that delicious pizza, honey” Ned moved quickly to the bag were he had brought the movies for them to watch. They picked Love Actually, they all loved the movie and it was perfect for the season.

They girls took the two pizzas they made to the coffee table and some plates. Ned ran to the kitchen and grabbed some mugs and the soda from the fridge. Their sofa wasn’t big enough for the four of them so Peter sat on the floor and helped pouring the soda on the four mugs. MJ closed the curtains and turned off the light. When everything was ready Ned sat with Betty lying on the couch with her head on Ned’s lap. Peter knew MJ wasn’t going to make Betty move to a sitting position for her to sit on the sofa with them, so she sat next to Peter on the floor.

Ned took the remote and stared the movie. Soon enough they finished the homemade pizzas and drank the soda. MJ covered herself with a blanket after half the movie and rested her head on the couch, close to Betty’s knees. Peter could see her trying not to fall asleep, he moved to place his empty mug on the coffee table and placed himself closer to MJ than he was before.

Their arms were pressed against each other and he felt MJ laughing softly to something happening on the movie. He wasn’t paying attention anymore, too focused on the heat radiating from MJ while she was tightly wrapped on her blanket. Was she actually cold? While Peter was divagating, MJ placed her head on Peter shoulder and he froze.

He thanked every God, Lord and Supreme master he was taller than MJ now, just for a few centimeters but that small difference made easier for them to keep the posture without hurting MJ’s neck. He tried not to breath too hard to not bother her or make her move, he also pretended not to hear her heart racing while placing his head over hers  and then slowing down as she felt asleep. The movie was coming to an end and he tried to look at Ned.

Betty was asleep on Ned’s lap and he was playing with her hair. They shared a look and decided to wake the girls up so they could all go to sleep. After they woke up, Betty and Ned decided to go home, it wasn’t late after all. MJ and Peter organized the room and lifted everything from the coffee table and took the plates and mugs to the kitchen. Peter was definitely skipping patrol, he wanted to rest a little now that Rhino had disappeared several days ago. He knew he was coming back any minute and he needed to be ready for that.