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#I love it but it kind of reminds me of Peter Parker??
enemiestoloversclub · 2 years
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Super corptober Day 20: Kara
I’m just kind of all over the place right now and tbh just wanted to draw the new jacket!
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moon-rivr · 8 months
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la apuesta
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pairing: college!miguel x fem reader
warnings: miguel being a bit of an ass, face-sitting, oral (i probably forgot smth 🧍🏻)
author’s note: thank you for all the support for friends with benefits 🥹 anyways i got this idea from c.ai miguel using me as a bet LMAOO (he was supposed to be my roommate only 😖)
word count: 3037
You were the bane of his existence. He hated everything about you, from the way you smiled at everybody but him, to the way that you carried yourself, with kindness and respect even if it wasn't reciprocated. He hated the determination you had towards beating him at everything academically, putting in late hours at the library and studying for tests weeks in advance. What he really hated the most about you, though, was the way he could never find himself to truly hate you.
Which is how he found himself agreeing to a stupid bet that Peter B. Parker had brought up mid smoke sesh. Miguel had spent the last thirty minutes ranting about how you annoyed him today, about your test score and how he was so sure you cheated, and mostly about how you faked being nice with everybody when Peter interrupted him with the proposition. "What if we made a bet?" he started off, getting Miguel's attention as he passed him the blunt. "Let's say you can make her fall in love with you in two months for a hundred bucks," Peter added when Miguel took a hit from the blunt, a cocky smirk on his face. "Let's do a month for two hundred, yeah?"
The next Monday, Miguel found his gaze going to you during biology, the wheels in his head turning to figure out how to win you over. Would you like flowers? Grand gestures? Just the thought was starting to make his head hurt. He decided to start off slow, choosing to sit next to you before the class started. "Good morning," he offered with a small wave, which you returned with a smile on your face. He spent the class period looking at you through his peripheral, handing you a pen when he saw you digging your bag and giving you his notes when the professor moved through the slides too quickly.
"Go to lunch with me," he said after the class ended, watching your eyes flicker with surprise, a bit surprised himself by the offer. He wasn't one to go on casual lunch dates or even pursue someone, people usually pursued him and he didn't do much to find someone to sleep with him. "Well my daily ramen budget thanks you," you replied with a small chuckle, walking next to him after the class ended to the cafeteria. He found himself willingly laughing at your remarks, asking more questions about you, before reminding himself that this was all part of the bet. he refused to be a cliché and be the idiot to fall in love.
"Pickles and mustard? We might have to end this lunch date right now," you remarked, watching as he now added hot sauce to the mixture. It was odd, having lunch with Miguel O'Hara since you were pretty certain he hated you and he only had lunch with his close friends, but you still enjoyed his company and hearing his point of view of how he saw the world. "Oh c'mon, you can't say anything until you try it out," he protested you, handing you a pickle slice, the look on his face practically daring you to eat it. You took a tentative bite, your face morphing into a grimace as you spat it out, taking a sip from your water bottle. You looked up to see Miguel fighting back a laugh, tossing the pickles to the side as he looked over at you. "I can't believe you actually thought I eat that," he remarked with a smirk on his face, laughing as you hit his arm playfully.
The next week had been spent like that day, from trying out new food combinations, exchanging class notes, to spending time in his dorm room and studying. He had taken a break from studying, looking over at you reading the biology textbook and biting down on the pen in your hand, the small action emphasizing how pretty your lips were. He pushed a strand of hair away from your face, an easy smile on his face as you looked up at him. "It's such a shame that the test won't be covering me," you teased, seeing his closed textbook on the floor. "Such a shame indeed, I'm sure I'd be getting top grades," he replied with a smirk of his own, his fingers trailing the back of your neck. He watched you for a little bit, taking in how pretty you looked when you were concentrated and how much he seemed to enjoy your company without giving much thought to the bet. "Go on a date with me," he blurted out after a couple minutes of silence, watching you carefully for your reaction.
He found himself Googling best date ideas and even going as to making a Pinterest board full of things he deemed would be fun for both of you. He ended up going with a classic picnic date, buying sandwich making materials and a small Lego set. He arrived at your dorm room a couple hours after he confirmed you were free, fighting back a smile as he saw you open the door. You were wearing a yellow sundress that complimented your curves perfectly, pairing it with white flats. He stumbled over his words as he took you in, spitting out something that resembled, "Te ves hermosa." Your laughter was like a soft melody that reverberated through his ears, unable to keep his gaze off you. You closed your dorm door, walking next to him to his car. (you look beautiful)
He stopped in front of City Hall Park, claiming that it was underrated by Central Park's attraction. He set down a checkered blanket on the grass, sitting down as he took out the contents of the basket. You two fell into easy conversation, talking about your friends, school assignments, and just personal details. You two started to make your sandwiches as you took sips of the cheap wine he'd picked up, your past suspicions about his intentions dissipating with every passing moment. He pulled out the Lego set, a Star Wars battle ship, and felt himself grow even more comfortable in your presence when he discovered that you were also a fan.
The date had ended with Miguel dropping you off at your dorm room, his hands wrapped around your waist as he tried to prolong your leaving. You looked up at him, a small smile on your lips as you pushed a strand of hair away from his forehead. He leaned down, his hands practically moving you closer as his lips gently brushed yours. "Is this okay?" he murmured, his hands gently brushing the back of your neck before you leaned in, your lips enveloping his. The kiss started off tentative and gentle but soon, your hands were wrapped around Miguel's neck as you pulled him closer to you and your lips moved in tandem with his, the taste of him and the wine dizzying. Both of you pulled away a couple seconds later, just taking a moment to take in the moment before he kissed your forehead. "Buenas noches." (good night)
Most of the month had passed by with you two continuing to go on dates, making out in his room, and studying for your biology tests together. The fair had come to town recently and Miguel had gotten you two tickets for today after some relentless begging from your part. He took out the two tickets after he picked you up from your last class, a small grin on his face as he saw the way your eyes sparkled from excitement. "I'll pick you up at eight, chula," he said, leaving you at your dorm as he gave you a kiss on the cheek before walking away. (pretty)
Your jaw dropped when you opened the door, seeing Miguel ditch his usual hoodie and sweatpants apparel for a button down tee with some jeans. He gave you a lopsided smile, leaning down to kiss your cheek as he smelled the crook of your neck. "What if we ditch the fair and stay home?" he murmured, his lips ghosting over your neck before he kissed it. "Very funny, but I did not spend two hours looking at youtube makeup tutorials to stay home," you said, laughing a bit before walking off to your closet to finish getting dressed. You and Miguel had changed in front of each other, made out, and cuddled but you never had sex together. Partly because you were a virgin and you were worried he'd be turned off by your lack of experience given his past and another part being to just general fear of how big he was, how much it would hurt.
You and Miguel walk into the carnival a couple minutes later, looking around at some of the rides before your eyes settled on a My Melody plushie by the ball toss. You ran over, blindsighted by how cute it was and paid the attendant before tossing the balls at the bottles. Miguel walked over, his arms folded as he watched you, the look of determination on your face to get the stupid plushie. He couldn't help but feel bad as he saw the small pout on your lips when you'd missed one of the bottles, deciding to try it out for himself.
"Thank you!" your face practically lit up as he handed you the plushie, a smile forming on his face as he looked at you. He would be willing to do a hundred more of those ball tosses if it meant he got to see you smile like that again. He wrapped his arm around your neck, guiding you towards some rides he'd thought you'd enjoy. He took in every single one of your expressions, basking in how excited you seemed to be even with the most boring rides.
The last ride of the evening had been the ferris wheel, he realized it was a little corny, but he wanted a couple minutes just to have you to himself. He found himself looking at you rather than the view of the city, grabbing your chin so you'd look at him and he dipped his head down, meeting you in a kiss. "Te amo, hermosa," he whispered, his lips moving towards your earlobe as he nibbled slightly. You took a minute to let the words process, and even though you had never really experienced what being in love was like, you found yourself coming to the realization that you were in love with Miguel O'Hara. "I love you," you said, your hand on his cheek as you looked at him before meeting him for another kiss.
You and Miguel had ended up at his dorm after the carnival ended, tongues and mouths clashing as he pinned you against the wall. He took off his shirt and you finally snapped back to it, looking up at him nervously. "Miguel. I'm a virgin," you said, breaking the silence in the room and you saw his eyes flicker into something.. darker. "We don't have to anything you don't want to, chula," he assured you, taking in note of your reaction as he rested his hand on your waist. You took a moment to think about this, really think about this, before looking up at him with a ghost of a smile on your lips. "Can we just try oral for tonight?" you asked, rubbing the back of your neck.
He swore he could've came right then and there with the way you asked him, nodding mindlessly as he went to his bed. He cleared some of his biology books off it, laying down as he looked over you at you. "Sit on my face, princesa," he said, nonchalantly, as he saw the redness start to creep up on your cheeks. You started taking your clothes off, looking at him from the edge of the bed as you nibbled down on your bottom lip. "Are you sure I won't crush your face?" You asked, letting out a little yelp as Miguel pulled you onto the bed. You rested on his lap, his hands settled on your hips as he looked up at you. "You won't hurt me," he reassured you, drawing small circles on your thighs with his fingers.
You slightly hovered above his face as he began to lick a stripe down your pussy, letting out a muffled moan as his hands pressed down on your thighs. “I thought I told you to sit on my face, not hover,” he said, slapping your ass before he pushed your hips down. You fell down to his expecting face, your hands immediately gripping the headboard as you felt his tongue plunge into you. His hands grip on your thighs as he continued to lick and suck on your pussy, your juices coating his lips in the most delicious way possible. Your hands tangled in his hair, tugging on the strands gently and he let out a moan, the vibrations making you grind against his face.
He encouraged you to grind on his face, moving your hips against his face as his tongue continued to lick in your pussy, plunging in the most delicious angle possible. He replaced his tongue with his fingers, scissoring them to work his way in as his mouth closed around your engorged clit. His tongue ran small circles around your clit, his fingers working in tandem as he curled them, hitting that spot inside of you. You moved your hips against his fingers, moaning out incoherent strings of his name as you felt something building up in your lower stomach. "Miguel, I feel like I have to pee," you moaned out, but he continued with his ministrations, only intensifying them after you said that. Your back arched as you released into his mouth, looking down to see him licking his lips and the side of his mouth. "Que deliciosa," he said with a small chuckle, getting you off of him. (how delicious)
You looked down at the obvious bulge in his pants, seeing his almost pained expression and he was about to reassure you that you didn't need to return anything, but you got down on your knees rendering him speechless. You slid off his boxers, picking up some of the precum with your finger and licking it off. "Tell me if you want me to something different, okay?" You told him before you brought your mouth closer to his reddening tip. You started off sucking it slowly, his hands making their way to your hair while one of your hands started to pump his length. You took more of him in your mouth, getting adjusted to how big he was before you started to bob your head. He let out soft moans and whispers of your name as you continued, feeling in complete bliss as you did so. You looked up at him, your doe eyes almost making him come right then and there as his hand worked on guiding your head, never forcing you.
He felt himself coming closer to that edge as you licked on a vein, feeling goosebumps forming on his skin. You took all of his cock in your mouth, feeling your eyes water as you adjusted to having him in so deep. You looked up at him and he let out a raggedy moan as he came in your mouth, maintaining eye contact with you. He helped you get up from the floor, dipping his head down to meet you for a kiss.
He cleaned in between your thighs with a warm washcloth, cleaning himself off as well before walking over to his dresser. He took out a shirt, handing it to you with a small smile. "Stay the night," he offered, looking at you expectantly. You nodded, taking the shirt from him and putting it on, the material falling over you like a dress. You both laid down on his bed, your breathing in tandem as you laid on his chest. "You're not pissed off we didn't have sex right?" You asked out of the blue, not wanting this thing you had going on with Miguel to end. He let out a small laugh, his hand stroking your hair as he answered, "Claro que no, mi amor. Even if it's not with me, don't let anyone pressure you into something you're not ready for." You couldn't help but feel your heart melt a bit as he spoke, your legs tangling with his. "When I do feel ready.. I'd like for it to be with you," you whispered, kissing his cheek. (of course not)
Peter had seen the events at the fair, shocked to say the least, at how obvious Miguel was being with his feelings towards you. He decided to give Miguel a wake up call tomorrow, remind him that this was all part of the deal, that he wasn't meant to be going out and falling in love with you. He knew how it ended with his last girlfriend, Xina, and how detached he had been from everything, a shell of his former self.
You walked over to Miguel's dorm, about to knock on the door when you heard him talking with Peter about something. You didn't mean to eavesdrop, obviously, but you were also curious to know what his friend's opinion was about you. "Dude, don't lose track of what we're doing here. you're not supposed to actually fall in love with her," you heard Peter say, your eyes widening a bit as Miguel let out a chuckle. "As if I could actually fall in love with her. she's nothing but just another bet, man."
The words rung through your ears, but you blinked back the tears that were threatening to come out as you forced yourself to knock on Miguel's door. you saw the surprise flash across his face for a split second, exchanging a look with Peter before looking back at you stoically. You wanted to cry, you wanted to beat yourself up for being so stupid and falling for his charms the same you'd reprimanded your friends, but you swallowed that all back and simply said,
"I left my biology textbook in here."
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angelltheninth · 1 year
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MCU characters having a wet dream about you?
About me, oh I'm so flattered, I would explode. As would all of you I'm sure.
Pairing: Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff, Thor, Loki, King Valkyrie, Shuri, Xu Xialing, Kate Bishop, Peter Parker x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, established relationship, wet dream, morning wood, kissing, cuddling, naked cuddling, cold showers, blowjobs, teasing, fingering, cunnilingus, morning sex
A/N: Put in a whole lot of characters in here. In other news Ant-Man was fun. The jello alien was my favorite.
Steve will try to say that he was just having nightmares, not moaning, of course he wasn't moaning. Must have been one hell of a nightmare if it gave him that big of a boner. Nah, that's just... morning wood, just that... well, fine, he was always a pretty bad liar, at least to you. He's pretty embarrassed, you just started dating and he's already getting hot and bothered with you just sleeping next to him. If he's this hard just from a dream a part of you can't wait to actually have his cock inside you. You can wait for that, as long as you get to tease him about this.
Bucky has no way out of this situation. He was pressed against you as the two of you slept, you can feel his cock against your ass when you woke up. He doesn't let you turn around and see how red his face is right now and tries to distract you. His bulge is pretty hard to ignore, given how it pulses and twitches in need against you. You'll gladly help him take car of it, he just needs to let you under the covers. You won't make a mess, and if you do you're more then happy to clean it up. This kind of talk is doing nothing but reminding him of his dream. Is he even awake? Well it doesn't matter when he gets to feel your mouth around his cock, sucking him off with gusto.
Sam quickly gets out of bed and scrambles for the showers. No need for you to get up and join him, he'll take care of this by himself, and then he'll talk to you about this. He could hear sounds from the bedroom while he was in the shower but he thought it was just his mind still playing tricks on him. Upon walking out he finds you with your legs spread, fully naked and inviting him to tell you all about his dream. You'll gladly share yours too. It might actually be filthier then his.
Clint couldn't believe this happened now. He has a mission to get to in half an hour. He's not embarrassed about the dream, why would he be? You're gonna be married soon, but the timing is just very inconvenient for him. Any other day and the two of you would have joked and laughed about it before getting down and dirty. His eyes widen when you push him down and take your panties off, you have half an hour right? You can make him come in half that time. Clint smirks at you, his rough hands settling on your hips. After this he better finish, or else he's never gonna hear the end of it.
Natasha does not shy away from it. She's been used for her feminine charms for a long time, not in control. When she does feel horny for you, no matter what time of day she is always honest about it with you. That goes for her wet dreams about you as well. In fact when she wakes up and you notice what she's been thinking about you she will lean and whisper what she dreamt about. She's not shy about her desires around you, and neither are you around her, it's not just her whose horny. You've had a more then your fair share of dreams about her.
Thor isn't shy about it at all, he's had this happen before many times although this is the first time it happened with you sleeping next to him. He sleeps naked most of the time anyway so there's a big cum stain already forming on the sheets as he wakes up from it. You've seen him with morning wood before but you never asked if it was prompted by a dream or not. You've had your fair share of your own, and some did start just like this. Oh? He'd love to hear more about these dreams of yours. Better yet, why don't you show him? And then he'll show you.
Loki is the one who ends up teasing you about it rather then the other way around. He's got his magic swirling around the two of you, pulling you close to him and into his lap, depicting scenes from his dream, in great detail too. It makes his cock even harder when he notices that you're rubbing your legs together as you watch the images dance before you. He's already hard, and by the looks of it you're quite wet yourself, so won't you bend over for him, let him do away with both your problems.
King Valkyrie kisses your neck as she holds you close, still dreaming, deep in her sleep, saying the filthiest things to you, riling you up without even knowing it. When you can't take it anymore you shake her awake, your face flaming hot, no, your whole body as well, most notably between your legs. She's never had much of a filter around you, there was never any need to so why would she start now? She takes your had and presses it to her pussy, letting your fingers feel the wetness as she does the same to you, her middle finger already teasing your entrance. You ease onto it before you even know it, bracing on her shoulders to ride her hand to your orgasm.
Shuri is only embarrassed by it because she knows that there is a chance that guards might come in and see her being so horny for you. The two of you have fooled around before of course but always with the door closed. Now she's only in her shirt and pajama bottoms, a wet stain on them. If anyone were to walk in there would be no doubt as to what she was dreaming about. Thank god you were still asleep so she can just change and get back to cuddling with you. She's still horny as hell from the dream but she can wait until you wake up and then lock the door to be sure.
Xu Xialing almost chokes you when you try to wake her up, thinking she was having a bad dream. Only when you're under her do you feel how wet she is, see how blown out her pupils are and how her eyes keep flickering to your lips. Ah, so it was a good dream then, very good judging by the state of her. She lets you go, apologetic of her actions, not the dream but of choking you, she would never do it without your consent. Well... she has it now. With a knowing smirk she takes off her tank top and underwear, letting you see how sticky and wet they are with her slick arousal. Before she gets to choking you she wants to get you ready for some other things she has planned.
Kate wants to sink into the bed when you question her about it. Yes, it was a wet dream about you, no it wasn't the first time she had it. She's blushing hard, avoiding your eyes as you try to coax her out of her hiding spot with cuddles and kisses and teasing words. Would it help if you told her about your wet dream? Now that gets her attention, yes, it would help a lot actually. She would love to know if your dreams are... compatible. Just to see if your tastes match of course, it has nothing to do with the fact that she's slipping further and further between your legs as you talk, making it nearly impossible for you to get words out as she licks and kisses your increasingly wet pussy.
Peter is very careful when he slips out of bed, he makes sure you're not disturbed by him. Little he know that you're awake but you let him do what he needs to and come back to bed. You trigger his spider sense when you jump him, giggling as you push him against the bed and grind in his still noticeable hard on. Why didn't you say anything? He's been dying of embarrassment this whole time, and now again, only worse because you're staring down at him with those knowing eyes and still, fuck, still rubbing against him in the best way, getting him fully hard again in no time. This time, you will do something about it.
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chaoticladyfire · 11 months
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Things I screamed about in ATSV (spoilers)
-Got to rewatch the film so I’m just going to add the colours changing to warmer tones when Gwen hugs her father. Not even ten minutes in and I was already crying.
-Realised that we missed the Gwen-Vulture fight BUT got to see Jessica Drew enter the scene like a bad ass in her bad ass bike and hearing the audience collectively say ‘me too’ when Gwen asked if Jessica could adopt her. 
-Screaming OSCAR ISAAC when Miguel spoke
-Lyla. Just Lyla.
- ‘Do you say anything other than no?’ ‘No-YES!’ more of miguel and jessica pls
-The Spot’s introduction. I didn’t see any promotional stuff, teasers or even trailers before watching this film so I had no idea who or what the The Spot was which was great because he really went from villain of the week to villain of the movie. And they clearly had a great time choreographing the fight scenes with him
-Miles’ heating up the beef patty while the spot and the convenience store man argue
-Miles patting the spot’s with a ‘good cow’ text
-Gwen and Miles both having to deepen their voices to avoid being recognised by their respective cop dads
-Miles saying that he can get two cakes when the counsellor says you can’t have your cake and eat it too and then bringing two cakes for his father’s party and neither of them saying what he wanted to convey. 
-Rio and Jeff scolding an annoyed miles but instantly smiling when a relative hugs them what an universal experience 
-Gwen teasing Miles for drawing her in his notebook almost obsessively but also breaking the biggest rule to spend time with him knowing the consequences. 
-As they went to talk, my friend leaned over and said ‘yeah I bet they will talk’ and when they only talked he groaned very loudly at which point I had to remind him Miles was only 15 
-Watching Jeff talk to Spiderman about his son not knowing his son is spiderman
-The DJ increasing the volume when Miles’ parents started scolding him in the middle of the party (the real mvp of the movie actually) 
-JK Simmons cameo that no one seems to be talking about??? Embarrassingly enough I had to literally scream into my friend’s ear for most of the people to realise it was indeed JK Simmons
-Just the entire Mumbattan scene. It was so exciting to see my city be represented like that, still a bit cliched in my opinion but not like Slumdog so obviously they have updated their views. Everything from the traffic gag to Pav’s rant about chai tea had the theatre howling. Also the detail of the thought boxes (?) and sounds being written in Hindi 
-Screaming DANIEL KALUUYA
-My friend and I are huge fans of the UK punk scene (her for the ideologies and myself for the music and fashion) so Hobie was a dream come true. He was already super cool with his guitar and mohawk costume but when he revealed his face it was just so amazing
-Gayatri is every indian’s dream girl with her modern shirt-flannel and jeans combo mixed with bangles and piercings I really wish we get to see more of her in the next movie. Anyway there was a lot of wolf-whistling and hooting for her and Pav
-Also Pavitr literally means pure I don’t know if they did that on purpose or not but I love it
-His pet name being Pav cured my soul
-’This is the most emotional I have seen him’ and Captain Singh has no emotions at all
-I want to see how they came up with so many spider designs because each was so unique and immediately endearing. My friend who is also a big dinosaur fan screamed DINOSAUR 
-Kind of obsessed with how detailed Ben Reilly’s arms are they did not need to go that hard with it
-Tom Holland’s Spider-Man being referred to as ‘the little nerd’ by Miguel
-When everyone was making puns about the Spot my friend leaned over and said ‘i wonder which hole the spot prefers’ it is a miracle we are still friends actually
-The Donald Grover cameo!!!
-Peter B Parker having a cute little baby with the love of his life is what he deserves
-Miguel O Hara is one step away from becoming a Batman-Spiderman 
-Hobie’s admiration for Mayday being the avatar of chaos Spider-baby
-Screaming ANDY SAMBERG
-I think they saw the appreciation for the art style in the previous film and then trebled it for this film and I cannot thank them enough for it
-Peter complaining about how Miguel breaks the Spiderman tradition of being funny and witty and Miguel being the first anomaly 
-Every scene with the Spot is very unnerving because as I said, you watch him transform from this joker to a literal void of vengeance and it is every bit of terrifying
-Miguel is a man suffering from the destruction of an entire universe because of his selfish actions and forcing that anomaly narrative on a fifteen year old boy who became a spiderman on accident and doesn’t want his father to die because of that. Unlike the Spot, who isn’t even human anymore, Miguel is drowning in grief and guilt and trying to ignore it by holding the weight of the spider-verse on his shoulder. I hated him so much for making a boy go through that but then I just couldn’t in the end. 
-Andrew Garfield and Tobey Maguire cameo!!! Hopefully we’ll get a fun Tom Holland one too in the next movie.
-’Let me guess, he died?’ being a therapist for Spider Men must be a fairly boring job after a few patients.
-I just loved the absolute of wrongness of the scene where Miles returns ‘home’. The rain and darkness. I didn’t really think about Rio asking Miles what happened to his hair because I thought she was referring to the rain (although of course she wouldn’t ask him why his hair was wet when it was obviously raining outside) but realised something was wrong when he didn’t know about comic con but she did because in the first film there’s a joke about Peter B Parker explaining the concept to Miles. 
- This movie is not good for my father related issues
-The glaring neon welcome sign when the gang end up in Earth 42
-How did Uncle Aaron get even scarier? 
-Miles being the Prowler is honestly a great twist I saw it coming but still felt the shock of the reveal
-Prowler Miles having an accented voice meaning his father probably died when he was young and he only had his mom growing up
-Can’t wait for the original spider team to return for the third film seeing as they brought back Spider-Man Noir and Spider Ham and Peni Parker
-Screaming WHAT when the ‘to be continued’ appeared because that cliffhanger is absolutely destructive. All that adrenaline and excitement just popped. I’m still oscillating between being impressed and being disappointed. 
I probably skipped over a lot of other scenes because these were the most memorable and I only watched the film once (unfortunate) but I can’t wait for the movie to hit streaming services and watch it again and again for all the other details I missed. Ill probably keep adding things as I remember
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periprose · 6 months
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Heyyy I’m literally playing through ps4 Spider-Man again 🤣!
I was wondering if I could request a ps4 fic, maybe Peter and reader have been dating for a while, and she gets hurt during the explosion and he can’t find her but she’s with may at feast with like a broken arm or something?? (She knows he’s Spider-Man) 👀🫶🏼
hey lol thanks for requesting! I'm on the first playthrough of the game myself. Basically this is set during the explosion at the election event in the game, and Peter and you are there to proudly watch Officer Davis accept his award.
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"Hey." Peter comes up from behind you on the sidewalk, fixing wrinkles in his civilian clothes. He must've just changed.
"Hey, Parker." You nudge him. "Ready to go watch Osborn smooch up to the well-meaning audience of Manhattan?"
"Well, ready as I'll ever be." Peter takes your hand. "I'm really just there to watch Davis get his well-deserving award, y'know. Hey, didn't I tell you to stop calling me Parker?"
"Meh, you love it." You joke. "You'll always be Parker to me, even if you are my boyfriend now. It's our thing."
Peter shakes his head, but you know based on his little smile- he loves that you have a little thing just for him.
Together, you walk to the intersection in front of City Hall, where many people crowd around, waiting for Mayor Osborn and whatever speech he's about to give today. They're all dressed in Osborn themed merchandise, cheering and clapping.
You can't believe this many people care about Osborn's so-called promises to the city- you and Peter are really hoping he won't be re-elected this term after all- but people are clapping for him, and you sigh knowing that your cost of living is about to go up.
"Hey. Wipe that frown off your face. We're here to be supportive." Peter whispers from next to you in the crowd, and you nod.
"Where's Davis? Is that him?" You whisper back, pointing to an older black man up on the stage.
"Yup. You wouldn't believe it, he was so helpful in Hell's Kitchen. Dude whipped out his gun and had my back like we've been best buds for years." Peter smiles. "There's not many out there doing it like him."
"He sounds like a real treasure. I'm glad you have someone on your side." You squeeze Peter's hand, and continue to look up towards the stage in mild excitement.
You don't really care for Osborn's speech- Peter laughs about his promise to open up technology for NYC when you both know that's reserved for the elite- but you both grin when Davis, looking nervous as ever, walks up the stage to receive his award.
"It is my privilege to present Officer Jefferson Davis with the Department Medal of Honour." Osborn hangs a medal around Davis' neck, and you and Peter clap.
"I'm so glad this is all over. The gang war, I think." Peter whispers to you, and you raise your eyebrows.
"Really? Does this mean you'll finally be a little safer?" You ask, but Peter frowns a little.
"Well, there's some loose ends still to be tied up, but-"
"Loose ends?" You give him a wary glance. "Like what?"
"Like whatever 'Consolidated Shipping' is. It doesn't make sense." Peter sighs, watching concern grow on your face. "It's not right, but I'll figure it out."
Davis says a few words- he thanks his wife and his son, Miles, who you can see is sitting up at the front of the stage.
"Aw, cute kid." You remark to Peter, and he nods, gaining a slightly sheepish smile.
"Officer Davis did say I remind him of his son. I'll take it as a compliment." Peter jokes, and you snicker, calling him even more of a baby.
Behind you, Sable guards are talking on their walkie talkies about "keeping eyes on Osborn," which to you sounds as if they perceive a threat. You turn back to tell Peter, when he suddenly flinches.
"Peter-?"
He grabs his head, panicking- you watch as his pupils dilate, and he's clearly in some kind of shock.
"Everything feels off-" Peter flinches again, and you know he's having a Spider-Sense meltdown. There must be multiple things happening at once- even worse, you're not sure what he's supposed to do in this situation. He's not suited up, and he risks revealing his identity if he does anything.
Either way, Peter runs behind you. He shoves people out of the way, trying to get to the back of the event, behind the audience, but he's not fast enough. There are men arriving out of cars- corrupted men, turning that strange grey-blue-transparent hue that confirms their connection with Martin Li.
Peter runs- he dashes- but you see him flinch again, cowering under such threatening energy. He turns to the stage in horror, and you gasp in shock.
There's another corrupted on stage, covered in explosive devices.
An explosion goes off behind you, to the right of you, than another massive one on stage- the ground shakes beneath you, and you're too in shock to move.
"Get down!" Peter shoves you back, attempting to push you out of the way, just as another two explosions cause the earth under you to rattle, and you lose your footing and fall back on the pavement. You twist your arm unnaturally and hit your head.
You black out, the last thing you see being massive blue-black explosions in the sky.
/
Peter wakes to floating ash in the sky.
He coughs- there's a sharp pain in his right side, and a slight ache at the top of his hairline- he touches his forehead and pulls his fingers away to see brown-red, dry blood.
It doesn't matter. He'll heal faster than most, anyways- he needs to locate you.
He gets up, seizes a little due to the pain- and to his alarm, you're nowhere in his near sight. He walks around seeing Sable guards help people off the streets- although Peter really thinks they're poking and prodding and shoving them away, so they can clean up the mess around here.
He hopes you haven't been taken away by Sable guards.
Peter rushes to the nearest clinic- but there's too many people crowding around there with their injuries, and the receptionist at the emergency room tells him there's no one by your name here.
He begins to panic. You're not responding to his calls, either. Peter doesn't want to believe the worst could've happened to you, but he does hear people talking on the streets about the casualties. Apparently at least 10 people have been found dead so far- Peter starts swearing under his breath.
He decides to head to FEAST- he's not sure if you'll be there, but it's better to ask Aunt May or some of the volunteers if you've been seen. FEAST also operates as an emergency medical clinic, too, even with limited supplies, and it's with this small amount of hope that Peter travels there.
Pushing through the doors, the front desk woman- Amanda- she's startled by how intensely Peter asks about you.
"I don't know, Peter." She points to the main auditorium, where many homeless and injured people are currently being attended to. "It's kind of an open house back here- you're going to have to look through the crowds."
Peter sighs. "Thanks, Amanda."
It takes him about fifteen minutes to do a full, quick walkthrough. The entire time, his heartbeat thumps faster as he realizes- he's not seeing you anywhere. There's nobody wearing your trademark scarf, your usual dark blue jeans- nobody with your fastidious expression, where you always seem to take in the entire world before speaking- nobody to relieve the steady ache in his heart.
Peter walks into the room full of medical supplies, expecting to see Aunt May- and while May is there, busy with another volunteer, the first thing he sees is you, with your hair all disheveled and messy, bruises on your cheek and a cut under your lip, and your arm wrapped in a cast and a sling.
But you have a soft, comforting smile. You're kneeling down to help a little girl- she can't be older than five- and you're placing a bandage on her knee. And the little girl squeals, hugging you after you say "It's all better now."
Peter would agree with that.
You look up, arms still embraced around the little girl- Rina is her name- to see Peter, looking wistful, sad, a clear lump in his throat. His eyes are watery.
"Peter?" You watch as he comes forward.
"I thought you were- I thought..." He wipes his eyes. "Are you okay? What happened?"
"Well, Little Rina over here needed a little bit of medical attention." You kindly tap her shoulder and she nods up at Peter, smiling. "She tripped and fell and no one was paying attention to her knee, so I decided to help her."
"That's..." Peter trails off, wondering how you could be so selfless when your own face was looking a bit worse for wear. "That's sweet of you to do. How do you feel, kiddo?"
He kneels towards her, and she grins really big. "Better!"
"Alright, high five then." Peter high fives her, and she dashes off afterwards, most likely looking for the parent she came with.
"Why didn't you respond to my calls?" Peter asks you as soon as you turn back to him. "I thought... I thought the worst had happened-"
"Peter, please. Stop with the wounded ego." May calls him out, listening from the sidelines. "What's important is that she's safe and in one piece- that's more than enough to feel grateful about."
Peter looks down, ashamed. He knows May is right, and he has to swallow his pride for a moment.
"I'm sorry, Peter." You grasp his hand, and he looks back at you, jaw tight as he listens. "I didn't mean to not answer your calls- my phone got shattered. And I didn't know where to find you after I woke up- I was already being taken away by Sable guards to 'safety' and then I decided my best chance to find you was over here."
"Oh." Peter feels kind of dumb, but he also feels glad you think of FEAST as a spot to find him. "I should've kept you safe."
"Don't. Don't make yourself crazy with what you could've done." You plead with him, and he sighs but shakes his head. "My arm will heal with time. I guess I landed on it weirdly and broke it."
Peter winces. "Well, you can always ask me for help if it bothers you. I'm there for you."
He traces your lip, where the cut under is still a red-brown, harsh hue in comparison to the pink of your bottom lip, and May takes this as her cue to leave.
Peter snorts. "I wish you had my-"
"Super healing? Yeah, I wish that too." You laugh. "Were you lucky enough to not get hit, or did you just heal on the way here?"
Peter's reaching for a facial bandage and some rubbing alcohol. "The latter."
"Ugh, lucky bastard." You smile up at him, cringing only slightly as Peter rubs away the blood from your wound. "I'm just glad that means I don't have to worry too much about you."
"You still do." Peter remarks, placing the bandage on your face. "But that just means you love me."
And, being ever so thankful that you're safely back in his arms, Peter places a soft kiss on your forehead, and then a slightly-less-soft one on your mouth, hoping it doesn't hurt you, but happy that you kiss him back anyways.
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shellshocklove · 1 year
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conversation | peter parker
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pairing: college!peter parker x college!female!reader
summary: peter parker is in the friendzone. and it sucks. especially when the girl he’s in love with is dating his best friend. smack dab in the middle of a bad situation peter struggles to keep his feelings at bay when the girl of his dreams comes to him for advice about her failing relationship.
warnings: i guess post!nwh, swearing, cheating, peter pining for reader, everyone being a bad guy, smut 18+ (minors dni!!!), unprotected sex, creampie
word count: 4.1k
a/n: um my first peter fic! it’s based on the song conversation by joni mitchell. listen to it, or don’t, i’m not your mother. i said i was going to stop posting writing, but i have “i must create or i’ll go crazy” disease so... (i’m still not a writer)
main masterlist / ao3
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She comes to him for conversation, for comfort, for consultation. But Peter wished she came to him for something else.
He remembers the first time he saw you. How he’d thought his heart had stopped for a second, forgetting how to do its most basic function. How could someone look so effortlessly beautiful? How could a voice sound so sweet while asking such a mundane question?
“Is this seat taken?”.
“N-n-no!” he’d manage to stutter out, his cheeks flushed red and completely taken aback by the fact that you were talking to him. You’d given him a playful smile before seating yourself next to him.
Did he believe in love at first sight? Yes, after seeing you for the first time, Peter started to think he did.
Meeting you in a chemistry class, Peter thought, must be the universe’s take on a bad joke, because… you two had chemistry. Everything just felt so easy when he hung out with you. His smile always wide, cheeks hurting. Conversation flowing freely, or engulfed in a silence, that was always comfortable. The only thing though, even though you two had chemistry, you weren’t any good at it. Actually, you were barely passing.
And that’s how your time began. Sharing sodas after class, in a rundown diner, over chemistry homework. You’d seen how Peter had gotten straight A’s on all his tests, and one day you’d carefully asked if he would be so kind as to help you. Those were the actual words you’d used. If Peter would be so kind. As if he wouldn’t have done anything you’d ask without a second thought. Okay, maybe not anything. He doesn’t think he’d murder someone if you asked… or maybe… if you were in danger and it was the only way–
“Peter!” you laughed, waving your hand in front of his face, “Are you even listening to me?”.
“Huh!?” he hummed, a familiar warmth spreading through his cheeks as your laugh rang through his ears.
“You zoned out a little,” you said, scrunching up your nose. Oh god he loved when you did that– you looked so cute.
“Oh! S-sorry” he stuttered out, still embarrassed that you’d caught him daydreaming, “What were you saying?”.
“Ehm… just forget it” you looked away, waving your hand, “It was just something Harry did again”.
His name coming from your mouth felt like a bucket of ice-cold water over Peter’s head. Harry Osborn, your boyfriend, and Peter’s roommate.
As much as Peter loved Harry, he didn’t treat you well. This was usually how your conversations during your study dates would go, once it was clear that after a few hours of studying, you were done with chemistry for the day.
You’d usually bring up small things that Harry had done that hurt you or annoyed you. And Peter would be tasked with giving you advice, or comfort, or consolation. You always apologized after, for bringing Harry up in conversation, but Peter always brushed it off telling you it was fine. But it wasn’t. It always reminded him about his own failures. How if he hadn’t been such a pussy at Betty’s party, all those months ago, and told you how he felt, this wouldn’t just be a study date, but a real date. The problem was just that Harry had beat him to it that night. In Harry’s defense, he didn’t know about Peter’s feelings about you. No one did.
You’d disappeared at some point in the night, and Peter figured you’d gone home. Turns out you did go home, but not to your own apartment, but to Peter’s and Harry’s instead. A fact Peter didn’t know until the morning after when he’d bumped into you in the kitchen, his heart dropping to his stomach at the sight of you in nothing but Harry’s shirt.
Peter’s dreams weren’t completely crushed at that moment. He still harbored hope for you. Harry was quite the whore (Harry’s own words by the way, not Peter’s), and this wasn’t the first time Peter ran into one of his hook-ups in the kitchen after a night out. In Peter’s mind this was only a one-night stand. But he couldn’t have been more wrong. Not soon after, you started showing up at the penthouse, not to hang out with Peter, but with Harry instead.
Peter tried his best to not be disappointed when you came over. But the tiny spark of hope he had about one day calling you his, soon fizzled out and died. Every time he saw you and Harry kissing, holding hands; he knew nothing would ever happen between the two of you.
Trying to forget you, he started busying himself with classes and patrol, seeing you less and less. He’d run into you sometimes when you were visiting Harry. Only a short “Hello” leaving Peter’s lips as he’d retire to his room before Harry could see how much Peter wanted you.
Back in his room, Peter would convince himself that you and Harry being together was the best thing for you. If you were with Peter, he’d only end up hurting you. You deserve the very best, and Peter knew he would never be good enough. He was a fucking mess most of the time. He was always late to things, never on time, he couldn’t afford to treat you to nice things like Harry did, and his double life could make you a target, which was the last thing he wanted.
Peter kept his distance the best he could, but as time went on it got harder and harder to convince himself that Harry treated you the way Peter thought you deserved. Peter knew Harry wasn’t being honest with you, and it killed him to keep his mouth shut. The bubbling anger simmering under the surface every time he’d see a girl who wasn’t you, slip out of Harry’s bedroom. Then like a curse, a few moments later, his enhanced hearing enabled him to eavesdrop on yours’ and Harry’s conversations on the phone. Harry would always apologize for being too busy to come over and hang out. And with the softest voice, you’d let Harry off the hook every time. Leaving the penthouse, to go on patrol after nights like that, Peter admitted, his punches hit a little harder.
Your relationship tasted especially bitter in Peter’s mouth whenever Harry would throw parties at the penthouse. A hand over your shoulder or around your waist, never leaving your side, showing you off like you were a prized possession and not a human being. Was this the final straw for Peter? Seeing yet another way Harry didn’t treat you as well as he should; that had made him not want to make up an excuse, like he normally would, when you’d ask him if he wanted to study at the diner.
Peter had kept his distance from you for the last six months. Tried to stay in his lane. To turn the other eye. To fold his feelings for you in on itself like a piece of paper so many times he hoped they’d disappear. But one look at you again, sitting across from him at your regular booth at the diner, and his origami-ed feelings had sprung up again like a blooming flower in spring.
“I just really wanted to see him, you know? I’ve been so stressed about this chemistry exam– that I know I’m gonna fail by the way, and work’s been kicking my ass– and I just wanted to hang out with my boyfriend… but he canceled on me three times this week”.
Or maybe the final straw, for Peter, was the way your whole body deflated in front of him. Peter could feel his heart break in real time watching you turn your head away, hiding the wobble of your bottom lip. And the worst part of it all was that Peter knew why Harry had canceled on you. He’d been over at someone else’s place. But Peter knew he couldn’t tell you that.
Carefully he reached out his hand, brushing it over the back of yours as you rested it on the table. “I’m sure Harry’s just been busy! I know he’s got his exams in a few weeks, and he hasn’t been home as much lately” Peter said, trying his best to make you feel better.
You watched your hands for a moment, how Peter brushed his hand over yours trying to sooth you the best he could. Then you turned your hand, wrapping it around his in a gentle hold. The soft touch of your warm hand, making Peter stop breathing for a second.
“Yeah,” you nodded, “you’re probably right, Peter”. You tried your best to smile, but Peter could see your sorrow written all over your face, breaking Peter’s heart even more.
“You’re a good friend Peter!” you started, “I’m so sorry for always talking about Harry, but it’s just that you know him so well, so it’s easier to talk about him with you– and you always manage to say the right thing to make me feel better” you looked down at your intertwining hands.
“It’s almost scary how easily you can make me feel better Peter– it’s like you have superpowers or something” you said, a chuckle escaping your lips.
“Oh, I didn’t tell you about my superpowers?” Peter quipped, trying his best to cheer you up even more. A smile spread across your face as you shook your head.
“My powers are actually being very good at chemistry– AND knowing how to make my friend who’s failing her chemistry class feel better”.
A giggle left your lips at Peter’s joke as you let out a sarcastic “haha, very funny”, playing along.
If only you knew though. How he wished that this mess could be fixed with his actual superpowers. How he wished he could just put on the suit and save you from Harry. How he wished he could free you.
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Landing safely on the rooftop of Harry’s penthouse, Peter looked around for his backpack he’d hid with his clothes. He’d managed to hide his double life from Harry so far, and he planned on it staying that way, which meant changing in and out of his suit crouched behind a rooftop vent, every day.
He was back earlier than usual, cutting tonight’s patrol short as it had turned out to be a quiet night. He’d stopped a man stealing a lady’s purse, and after he’d helped a man, who he was 90% sure had dementia, find his way back to his apartment. After that he’d just swung around the city for a few hours. At sunset he’d found a good spot at the top of this new skyscraper they were building downtown. His feet dangled off the scaffolding as he watched the sky turn every shade of pink and orange, before the sun dipped below the horizon.
Back home, on the roof, Peter felt the soft touch of the spring night against his naked skin. He quickly changed out of his suit before stuffing it back into his backpack, swinging it over his shoulder before he headed towards the rooftop door. With a light bounce in his step, Peter made his way down the stairs, his head filled with thoughts about all the studying he needed to do before his exam next week. Slipping through the front door he’s so distracted by his own thoughts he almost doesn’t hear it. The sounds of muffled moans accompanied by Harry’s bedpost hitting the wall.
But he does hear it, and images of how sad you’d looked earlier at the diner start flickering through Peter’s head. Before any rational thoughts can stop him, he’s fished his phone from the back pocket of his jeans. He’s had enough. His fingers work on their own accord, pulling up your contact.
Peter hi, um are you at the penthouse right now?
He knew you weren’t, but he figured this was the best way to bring it up. Taking long strides across the floor, he made his way towards his bedroom door. Why did he suddenly feel like he needed to hide?
He passed through his bedroom door while he slipped his backpack off his shoulder. Not even ten seconds later his phone buzzed in his hands with your reply. He sat down quickly on his bed, one leg bouncing in an anxious rhythm, as he read your reply.
You no? i’m at home why?
Peter i think you should come over there’s a girl with harry in his room
Did this make him a bad person Peter asked himself as he watched the three dotted bubble appear and then disappear. Was this just him acting out of his own selfishness? Letting the devil on his shoulder whisper in his ear and guide his hand? Or did it make him a hero? Saving you from a toxic relationship?
You i’m coming over.
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The sound of your footsteps echoed down the streets, mixing with Peter’s calls of your name as he practically jogged behind you trying to catch up to you.
“Peter” you sighed, “just please go back home”.
“No!” he finally caught up to you, grabbing a hold of your wrist, pulling it a little, making you slow down.
“I don’t think you should be alone right now”.
Your face was blank, the only sign of any emotion coming from your restless eyes dancing across his face. He couldn’t decipher what you were thinking. You were angry of course. You were furious only minutes ago when you stormed out the door with both Harry and Peter at your heel.
Harry had spoken his sorry sentences. Telling you it wasn’t what it looked like. Begging for your forgiveness. But he was only kidding himself trying to convince you it wasn’t what it looked like, that he hadn’t cheated on you, when you’d literally caught him with his dick inside another woman.
Harry stayed behind in the lobby, probably thinking it wasn’t worth it to go after you into the spring night, in only his robe. Just as Peter were about to rush after you Harry spoke up,
“If you go after her you’re dead to me!”.
The venomous bite to Harry’s tone stopped Peter dead in his tracks.
“I know you fucking told her” Harry accused, “If you go after her I’m kicking you out– I NEVER want to see you again”.
But standing here, out on the streets of New York at midnight, holding your hand Peter knew he’d made the right decision.
“Ok” you said it so softly Peter didn't think he’d even hear it if his hearing wasn’t enhanced.
“Ok” he repeated.
You pulled your hand away, a knife twisting in Peter’s heart, and started walking. You didn’t say a single word on the way back to your apartment. Peter imagined you were hurt, but you weren’t crying, and Peter didn’t know if that scared him or comforted him.
Safely back inside your apartment you didn’t even acknowledge his presence as you threw your jacket off by the door. Then you walked down the hallway, taking a right at the end, to where he assumed your living room must be. Peter had never actually been in your apartment before.
He followed you down the hallway, after neatly hanging both his and your jacket on your coat rack. He found you on the floor by your couch, your back resting against the front, holding your knees to your chest, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself, as soft sobs escaped you.
“I’m sorry you had to find out like that” Peter apologized, sitting down next to you on your carpet. A feeling like his only purpose in life was to comfort you, overcame him. So, he wrapped a hand around your shoulders, pulling you against his chest. You leaned in closer to his body, your hands shifting from hugging yourself, to hugging Peter tightly.
“No, this was exactly how I needed to find out” you sobbed, “I needed to see it with my own eyes, or I wouldn’t have believed it”.
Peter let you cry until there weren't any tears left to cry, cooing you and whispering all the most reassuring words he could muster up past midnight.
“I don’t know why it hurts so bad… I think deep down I always knew he wasn’t being honest with me– he always kept me guessing” you said. No, Peter thought, he kept you down.
Before Peter could say anything, you lifted your head from his chest, a big wet spot on his t-shirt left in your wake. You looked him right in the eye, and Peter could feel a budding warmth of red covering the apples of his cheeks.
“Please Peter” you pleaded, moving your face closer, the closest it’s ever been to his. Your right hand traveled to cup his hot cheeks, pulling him even closer to your face. So close he felt your breath tickle his skin while you spoke,
“You always make me feel better– it’s your superpower, remember? Please make me feel better”.
Closing his eyes, Peter knew he couldn’t deny you, his heart screamed out for you. This was everything he wanted, was it not? With a shuddering breath and a heart beating out of his chest, he closed the space between you, brushing his lips over yours.
Your other hand cupped his other cheek, pulling him even closer to your body, letting out a small whimper as you kissed him back. Peter felt like his head was spinning. He didn’t know where he ended, and you began.
Then it all became a bit of a blur. His hands found your waist as you climbed onto his lap, brushing your tongue over his bottom lip, deepening the kiss. Your hand left his cheek to toy with his hair, and Peter just about moaned into your mouth. He needed more of you, and with the way you were grinding down on his growing bulge, he knew you did too.
Warmth flooded his body wherever you touched him, and he didn’t think he could ever get enough of you. When your hand left his hair, he just about sighed with disappointment, until he realized how you toyed with the hem of his t-shirt. Raising his hands, he helped you pull it off him. Absentmindedly, you threw it away, before your eyes fell to his chest, quickly scanning over his muscles before they traveled up to his face, where they looked into his soul. Half a second later you pulled him in for another heated kiss.
His hands fell to your ass, helping you grind down on him. Fuck, he was properly hard now, his cock straining against his jeans. With every brush of your core against his cock you whimpered into his mouth, making Peter almost feel lightheaded. You were so pretty. Your lips tasted like raspberries, and under his hands your skin was softer than velvet.
“Take off your pants please” you pleaded against his skin as you started pressing soft kisses down along his jaw and neck.
His hands raced to unbutton his jeans. You pulled away from his neck, staggering to your feet on wobbly legs, making a whine leaving Peter’s lips. Over him you started pulling on your pants, dragging them down your legs along with your panties in one go. Mesmerized by your silhouette, Peter almost forgot what he was doing. You quickly sat down beside him, fingers coming up to hook around the waistband of Peter’s jeans. Then you started pulling them down to his mid-thigh along with his boxers. Peter almost forgot to breathe as you freed his aching cock.
When you climbed onto his lap, Peter’s brain started working again. His hands fell to your ass, steadying you as you got comfortable on his lap.
“D-did you want me to…” Peter trailed off, not knowing how to say what he wanted to say. Instead, he showed you. His right hand rubber over your ass and hip before his fingers brushed over your clit. You mewled at the contact, your eyes closing before you shook your head.
“No, no I just want you– I need you, Peter”.
Fuck, Peter thought. He’d dreamt of hearing you tell him you wanted him, for months. And now it wasn’t a dream anymore.
“O-okay” he stuttered, reaching a hand between your bodies, grabbing at his shaft in a rough hold. With his other hand he helped guide your hips to hover over his tip, sliding it back and forth over your slit, and lining it up with your opening. He could feel how wet and desperate you were, coating his cock in your arousal.
With a hand resting on his shoulder, you slowly sat down on his cock. First slipping the tip in, before your walls swallowed the rest of him, taking him fully inside. A choked moan fell from Peter’s lips as he savored the feeling of your velvet pulsing walls around him. Rocking your hips back and forth, your puffy clit rubbing up against his pelvis, as your mouth fell open in a silent gasp, gaping around words you couldn’t get out.
“Shit” you panted, “You’re so deep”.
“Yeah” Peter breathed out, head falling back against the couch, “You feel me in your tummy?”.
“Fuck,” you lifted your hips, slowly starting to move, “y-yes, I d-do”.
Looking up at you, as you moved over him, Peter thought you looked like an angel. The way your ceiling light lit up the back of your head, Peter was sure you were wearing a halo.
Your rhythm increased and soon you were bouncing in his lap. Your breathy moans falling from your lips, the wet noises coming from where you were connected, and the way you were starting to clench around him, were making the tension in Peter’s stomach grow. Knitting his eyebrows together, Peter didn’t know how much longer he was going to last.
Scared he’d finish before you, his fingers found your clit, pressing down in tight circles. Under the touch of his fingers you almost jumped, while a shuddering breath left your lips. Then Peter felt himself start to get desperate, meeting your bounces with a thrusting of his hip, pushing his throbbing cock even further inside you.
Every brush of his fingers over your clit, coincided with a thrust of his hips, and soon he felt your wall flutter around him. He could feel how your wetness ran down his shaft and down his balls, and he knew you were as close to the edge of ecstasy as he was. His fingers never let up on your clit, and soon you clenched around him so hard he couldn’t hold it back anymore.
“Fuck,” Peter spat, “I’m gonna cum”.
“I–Inside” you moaned, “You can come inside– it’s okay”.
Your words pushed him over the edge, making him come hard inside you with a grunt. He didn’t slow down his fingers on your clit, and the feeling of him filling you up and the brush of his fingers, must’ve pushed you over the edge. Half a second later your hips stilled as Peter felt the frantic pulses of your orgasm milking his cock.
The feeling of you riding out your orgasm on his sensitive cock, clenching down on him as your body shook with aftershocks, it was almost too much, too intense for Peter. His breath came out in hard pants, and his body felt hot to the touch.
Peter didn’t know how much time passed as you both came down from your highs. It could have been three seconds or three hours. All Peter knew was that with you, he lost all sense of time. But this moment of bliss must come to an end. Everything is temporary, and someone must be the first to pull away.
On wobbling legs, you slid off his lap, sitting down next to him on the floor. You leaned back, grabbing your panties off the couch. Peter averted his eyes. The act was somehow too intimate to watch, even after what you two had just done. Instead, he busied himself with pulling his pants back over his ass, and tucking himself away, as a silence fell over the both of you. It felt heavy, loaded with questions he didn’t know if he wanted an answer too. After a few minutes a whisper left Peter’s lips, breaking the silence,
“I think I might be homeless”.
You didn’t answer right away, but Peter could hear your breathing change multiple times, like you were going to say something,
“I’m sorry”.
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tagging some mutuals (this is so embarrassing): @hollandweather​, @luciwritesstuff​, @userholland​, @t-lostinworlds​, @silkscream​, @sparklingsin​, @logangarfield​, @justapurrcat​, @tomdutch​, @devotion​, @lnmp89​, @mayal0pez​, @melodicheauxxo-writes​,
...
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2K notes · View notes
meganslife · 3 months
Text
Spelling Errors - P. P.
MCU!Peter Parker x Fem!reader
summary: the cute barista at your local coffee shop always spells your name wrong.
warnings: none!! pure fluff:)
a/n: ooohhh my god i am obsessed with mcu peter lately so i did something. it’s rushed and barely proofread so i’m very sorry if there’s mistakes xoxo 💋💋 enjoy lovelies
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Being a regular at a coffee shop had its perks.
One, it felt safe and secure.
Two, you always knew what to order.
And three, the cute barista.
Peter Parker. He was charming, and probably the most gorgeous guy you’d ever seen. But there was one problem.
He always spelled your name wrong.
Sure, it’s okay if it happens once or twice. But every time you ordered, he spelled your name wrong. It was a good thing that he was cute, otherwise you would’ve been mad.
The adult thing to do would have been to correct him– but it has been a year of ordering the same couple of drinks. It would have been very awkward to correct him now, a year deep into flirting and being a regular.
You hadn’t been to the coffee shop in a few days. The flu was kicking your ass. You started to feel slightly better at the three-day mark of being sick, so you walked down to the coffee shop. Hopefully, your go-to drink will make you feel better.
You walk in through a secret back door, mostly because you want to sneak up on Peter. You could only pray that he was working today.
“Your girl hasn’t been here in a bit, Peter,” One of his coworkers says, and you hear a sigh from your hiding spot in the secret hallway.
Peter groans, “Don’t remind me, Ned!”
A mug drops on the floor, and that’s your cue to walk up to the counter.
Peter is cleaning up the mess when you walk over, and he practically senses that you’re there.
“Hey,” You smile, “Made a mess?”
He grins, “I’ll be with you in a second.”
You wait by the counter, making occasional eye contact with his coworker, who you assume is Ned.
Peter eventually comes to the counter, asking if you want your go-to order. You say yes, and he gets on making it.
When he hands you the to-go cup, your name is spelled right, and his phone number is on it.
“You spelled my name right!” You beam, before slapping a hand over your mouth.
Peter turns around. “I was spelling your name wrong?”
You sigh.
“I should’ve told you, I know, but it was too late! By the time I noticed, you’d been spelling it wrong for almost a year. I’m sorry,” You explain. Ned snorts behind the counter, causing you and Peter to shoot daggers at him.
Peter looks at you after a while of awkward silence, his gaze soft and hesitant.
“Call me, okay?” He says, smiling widely.
Your throat kind of goes dry as you say, “I will.”
“Okay,” Peter smiles, “Well, you need to leave. You’re distracting me.”
A laugh erupts from you as you walk out. “Am I banned?”
“Just for today.”
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celesterayel · 4 months
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"i only write when i am falling in love, or falling apart."
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꘎ 𓈒 the hunger games | "may the odds be ever in your favor"  𓈒
coriolanus snow
→ match made in heaven | coriolanus snow isn't nice but neither are you. it's a match made in heaven.
lucy gray baird
finnick odair
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꘎ 𓈒 percy jackson | "the real world is where the monsters are" ꥟ ۪  𓈒
luke castellan
→ the it couple | common knowledge is how irrevocably in love luke castellan is with you.
→ goodbyes & waiting | there are the moments you shared and the sadness that came after.
→ something out of my dreams | all he knows is that you were something out of his dreams.
→ midnight secrets | he knows one one true thing: you put all the stars to shame.
→ sacred | coming soon
→ crisis | coming soon
→ muses | coming soon
clarisse la rue
→ kill me slowly | coming soon
→ mad woman | coming soon
percy jackson
→ collide | coming soon
→ the tides | coming soon
→ great mystery | coming soon
→ miss americana & the heart break prince | coming soon
→ the great war | coming soon
→ come back…be mine | coming soon
annabeth chase
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𓈒 star wars | "you can't hide, rey. not from me" ꥟  ꘎ 𓈒
rey
ben solo | kylo ren
reylo
anakin skywalker
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꘎ spider man | "with great power, comes great responsibility" ꥟ ۪
peter parker - tom holland
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other genres ꥟ ۪ ꘎  𓈒
the summer i turned pretty
panic (amazon prime)
shadow and bone
six of crows
rebel moon
teen wolf
outer banks
shadow hunters
the sandman
blue beetle
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author's note ꥟ ۪ ꘎  𓈒 
please don't be afraid to ask what other genres i write for. i am a book reader and movie/tv show enthusiast so there's definitely plenty more i'm willing to add when reminded! :)
reminder to be kind and respectful.
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kairiscorner · 9 months
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do one where peter accidentally catches miguel giggling and smiling like a dumb ahh bc of our rizz on text 🤪🤪 (ooc ik but let me live k)
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ofc dracuilina bc i wanna see that too :> HOPE YA LIKE THIS MWEHEHEHHEE
(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)
photo creds: @atreus1526 on tiktok !! (though i got the pic from pinterest, do lmk if they have a tumblr !!)
a/n: yes, i finally made something like a text fic, sorry if it isn't very good 😭😭😭 also if anyone steals it, two things: 1) why would you 2) i will fuck you up don't you dare (・∀・)
when you rizzed him up too good – miguel o'hara x reader
miguel was having a slow day at HQ, not many anomalies needed to be captured and sent back to their home dimensions, and no canon events were disrupted any time this week. it was a little too quiet in the usually rowdy and chaotic halls of the spider society, what broke the pure silence that filled his dim office was the sound of your text.
miguel saw your messages, and immediately texted you back. he could never leave you on read for too long, that was his guilty secret. he loved, yet hated, indulging you–you always got a little too comfortable and sometimes pushed his buttons, but he loved you nonetheless.
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miguel sighed as he saw those three white dots dancing on his screen, and he was questioning why his profile picture had his sleeping face with a horse's ass on the blanket. he should've burned that gift from peter b, he never should've accepted any gift from that man.
his phone dinged and tore the silence asunder with another message from you.
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and he thought that'd be the end of it–well, partially thought, because it was you he was talking to–but it clearly wasn't. and nothing could prepare him for the next couple of messages you sent him.
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he sounded desperate, but he kept reminding himself he wasn't desperate, you were desperate–he was just giving you what you wanted. which was what he also wanted. badly. right now. especially when he had barely anything to do.
he felt his cheeks heat up and his eyebrows furrowing out of a unique kind of frustration, one that didn't fully piss him off, but made him wish something. wish that... he was there with you, could have that steamy hot shower date with you and just...
fuck, you decided to be all cutesy again. you know how much that riles him up. and makes him do things he usually wouldn't be caught doing.
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he felt a small smile crack on his face as he saw your little kaomojis, your petty texts of sarcastic revenge, and how snarky you could be... it made his heart beat a little faster, made the muscles in his cheeks raise and his smile widen; you made him chuckle. that was how much he loved you, loved everything about you, and you made him go a little crazy over you and your natural charms.
it was just then that peter b swung into miguel's office all casually, asking him if he's seen the horse ass blanket that he gave miguel. "yeah, uh, that was apparently a wedding anniversary gift mj got me. if i don't get it soon, i–" peter b rambled as he looked up at miguel, who was preoccupied with his phone.
he raised an eyebrow at two things: 1) miguel knew how to use a phone? 2) was he... smiling?
peter b swung over behind miguel and peered over his shoulder, seeing his texts with you for a hot second before miguel whipped his head around and replaced the gleeful grin from earlier into a frightening scowl.
"parker." he greeted him monotonously as miguel put his phone away. peter b smiled, knowing that you made miguel's day a little brighter. "nevermind, keep the blanket." he said as he pat miguel's shoulder and swung back out of his office, trying to keep in the urge to laugh aloud at the image of miguel's head sticking out with the horse's ass on the blanket.
tags !! @miguelswifey04 @binibinileonara @fiannee @arachnoia @fictarian @yuridopted0 @ophanimgold @meeom @melovetitties
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chiwhorei · 7 months
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𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎’𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐌𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐃𝐢𝐞 - 𝐏𝐭. 𝐈: 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞
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Miguel and Peter have been best friends since grade school. You’ve been in love with Miguel for about that long.
He’s messed with every girl on campus, all of your friends, any girl with a pulse except for you- Parker’s adorable little sister. Even so, there’s plenty of ways to get fucked.
|| 𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐃 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐦.𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ||
Characters: Miguel O’Hara, Parker!reader, Peter Parker Tags: Explicit- MDNI, College AU, Brother’s best friend, friends-to-lovers, house party, alcohol, voyeurism with a third party, sloppy oral, degradation, yearning, sarcasm, shared Marbies and the insurmountable melancholy Word count: 3k cross-posted to Ao3!
Thank you for your patience and encouragement, I survived my first case of writers block since being back. -xoxo, chiwhorei
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You wobble forward on a pair of heels that pinch a bit too tight. Your favorite pair was lent out to a friend, they matched her outfit better anyway. The runner in the hallway slips under the balls of your feet.
The bathroom, that’s your excuse. His room just happens to be right next to the bathroom. You’ll just peek in to see if he’s hiding from the pounding music and drunk college students trying to talk over it.
The fruity drinks Peter keeps making you are starting to tingle in your cheeks. Miguel calls you a lightweight, but you’ve hardly seen him at all tonight. He’s not a very good host, you think, leaving his party guests to mill about without his company.
Most everyone seems plenty boozed enough to not notice, but you would miss Miguel even if you were sedated. You’re certain you could miss him the same, even if you’d never met him. You curse your own hyperbole, God, drunk you is annoying.
“Mmph,”
A muffled groan spills out of the creak in his bedroom door. Sober you probably wouldn’t creep any closer, but she’s long gone. Plus, you have to walk past it anyway, you remind yourself, to get to the bathroom.
Your eyes wander from their strained focus at the end of the hallway and catch on a familiar complexion. Strong arms hold Miguel’s meal against his bed as it whimpers and squeals, muscles flexing underneath the remainder of his summer tan. The space between the door and its fame is just enough for your face- too much, by far, but the blood under your skin seems to pull you as close as possible without it squeaking open any further.
“Calm down, Mami,” He shushes against her, you can hear how wet his lips are, “we’re not going to get anywhere with you squirming.” Miguel’s voice knocks the air from your lungs, it escapes past your lips in a clumsy gasp.
His stare, deep and unblinking, pins you to the doorframe. You’ve gotten Miguel plenty mad, riled him up more times than you could count- but this is different. It’s red-hot, soldering you to the ground below. It’s not anger, not surprise, not the mixture of both it probably should be.
“P- please, I can’t,” her voice is familiar, even broken around a cry, “I can’t cum again, Miggy.” He kisses up her leg, licking at her ankle as it’s pinned to his chest. Pink strappy heels sit limply against the dip in Miguel’s collarbone- the pair you leant her a few hours prior. They matched her dress better, but that doesn’t seem to be a concern anymore.
Miguel doesn't stop, doesn't flinch. You can hear his mouth as it purrs into her again, see his cheeks sitting high on his face- even behind the thighs that obscure your view. Instead of yelling at you to close the door, Miguel smiles wildly. Evil, in the sweet, tooth-rotting kind of way.
“Aw, Pobrecito,” he coos against her, but the words are shot towards his voyeur, “you can give me one more.”
It feels like a bullet in your chest, friendly fire.
“You’re my good girl, aren’t ya?”
“Hey,” A finger and thumb snap in your blank eyeline to rip you from your thoughts, you jump in your seat at the sound, “Are you listening to me whatsoever?”
“Claro,” Your accent lacks any semblance of confidence. Miguel scoffs, at least some of his work is getting through.
You clear your throat and focus back to the textbook in front of you to read off the next prompt, “Write out a response to the following question, ‘¿Qué haces este fin de semana?’
Miguel snorts in response, and your eyes narrow across the kitchen table. He swallows back the snicker he holds in his mouth, hands up in feigned innocence.
“Vale, but this one’s easy, ‘No tengo planes, porque soy pinche abborito-” You clip his last word, throwing the first thing in reach, your textbook, towards his head- hoping to land a papercut.
Your tudor’s braced for impact, catching it with one hand and laughing at your outburst. You huff, arms crossed and posture falling. Miguel and Peter have your parents old dining room set, your chair wobbles as you sink back in it. Just like it always has.
“I got that, asshole.”
“Well, you could have fooled me,” Miguel slides your book back across the wood between you, “You tested out of Spanish 101 and now you're going to flunk out of 205. What was it, hermanita, clerical error?”
God that nickname digs past your skin and into the nerve endings, eating its way outwards. It wasn’t always like this, was it? You can’t seem to remember a time where his voice didn’t ignite every cell of blood.
He must have a talent for house fires, you think, or maybe you’re just more flammable in the days following your little run-in. You retreat ever further into the wobbly dining chair to create some distance, digging your shoulders into the spoked back.
It feels the same as when you were kids. Slinking into your chair and puffing your chest when you and Miguel would pass insults over the table. Your cheeks feel just as hot, your blood just as cold. You’re 13 again and Miguel just told you that boys aren’t going to want to kiss you and get stuck on your braces.
“I did well on the stupid placement test because it was on paper.” You feel like you’re speaking around that mouth of braces again, “I can understand the vocab and stuff, but our final is all oral.”
“If the final is oral,” Miguel chirps, pulling you closer by the leg of your seat with a splintering screech against the floor, “you might as well just drop the class, mija.”
He’s far too close, your skin might start sizzling. This was a horrible idea, one you’re sure you’ll be paying for later. He might as well put it on your tab.
“I’m just going to go to the tutoring center tomorrow, or try to drop, or fail and lose my spot on the dean’s list.” You go to slam your textbook closed but Miguel’s fingers curl over the spine, spreading out to keep it open.
“Cálmate, you’re not doing any of those,” instead of looking dumbly into his stare, your eyes fix on the rings Miguel wears; one for every long, beautiful finger. He mixes silver and gold, and you can’t decide which metal looks better against his gilded complexion. The things those fingers could do, your eye threatens to twitch at the thought, the places those fingers have been. Nearly all of your friends and the majority of Sorority Row.
“I promised you I’d help, I’m a man of my word,” his tone feels earnest for a beat, and you watch a pointer finger come out to barely graze the hand you’ve still got holding your book. It’s hypnotizing, maybe you shouldn't be so hard on the girls that hang off of his every sentence. All of these years you should’ve been inoculated, and you’re still no better. You might even be fatal.
“Plus, your brother bet me that you’d fail your final.”
Fuck him. And every perfect plane of skin. And that lopsided, toothy grin. And that goddamn laugh that makes you feel undercooked and mushy.
You pull your hand away, moving to stand up but those dangerous fingers curl around your wrist. His touch is so familiar, so easy to get sucked in to, like a rerun of your favorite movie. A physiological horror, maybe.
“C’mon, I bet him that you’d ace it. You’re my smart girl, mi nenita.”
The opening you have to throw a smart remark, or maybe another book, is wasted thinking about if you’re the only one who gets called that.
Miguel drops his grip on you as the front door opens. From the corner of your eye, you see his tongue lick over his bottom lip, just like he does every time he’s won. He must like the taste of your turmoil.
“Is our girl fluent yet, Mig?” Your brother’s presence is booming and a more than welcome distraction. Peter’s hands wrap around your shoulders, pressing his stubbled cheek against your face hard enough to squish your mouth to the side.
“Oh absolutely, she’s on her way to nailing that final. We’ve just got to work on her or-”
“Peter,” your voice interjects, a few octaves higher than what would pass for normal, “you got a lighter? I need a break.”
Your brother pats his jacket pockets a few times before tossing you his zippo. You fumble the catch, nerves rubbed raw and bloody. Don’t give him a reaction. You reclaim a bit of your composure and swipe the pack of Marblo reds from the table.
“Hey! Those are mine,” Miguel’s protest dosen’t reach his eyes, and you can’t hide the pleased smile that he pulls up over your teeth, “fucking brat.”
“Put it on my tab.”
The cement fencing around your brother’s apartment is cold against your ass. Your brother’s lighter sparks a few times before you can light up the cigarette. He should get a new one, but you know he won’t. Peter hates change.
Must run in the family.
It wasn’t always like this, you think against the first pull from Miguel’s cigarette, maybe if I keep ignoring it, we can both pretend it never happened.
What’s longer, death, or a life sentence?
You would have gladly lived and died a lovesick puppy, following your brother and his best friend around like Miguel was leash training. Living in between the moments of your life where he was, where he’s always been. Wrestling in the living room, pretending to hate when he’d gain the upper hand and pin you down helplessly under him. Playing tag, playing house. Calling shotgun in his old mustang, giggling every time your brother tried to argue. “It’s her seat, Peter,” he’d say with his arm over the back of your seat, pulling out of the driveway as if he hadn’t just ripped out your bleeding heart, “get over it.”
You couldn’t tell at first, but that open bedroom door was the last straw bending. The last few moments before the break, the aching stretch as you’re snapped in half. You’re not just Peter’s clumsy kid-sister anymore, you’re the drunk college girl that watched Miguel fucking his tongue into your freshman-year roommate.
You’re the still-drunk girl that walked home alone and touched herself to the memory of his wet smile and lashing tongue. The sobered-up girl that came hard on a toy named after him.
Heavy boots stalk forward, tracing the sidewalk and landing in your eyeline. You take another drag, blowing out into Miguel’s face.
“No fucking manners,” Miguel pulls the cigarette from where it sits between your lips, “what am I going to do with you.”
From where you’re perched, you meet his gaze without having to crane upwards. Miguel’s lips wrap around the stain your lipgloss left. You wonder if he notices, if he likes that taste too.
“I think I’ve had more than enough of you today.” Your quip is half-hearted and falls flatly on the pavement between you.
“Ya know, for someone with a stick shoved up her ass,” Miguel steps closer, taking up the space between either knee, “your posture sucks.”
You straighten your back in protest, but a low tree branch pokes into your spine. A yelp splinters from your throat as the wood catches where your leggings meet your sweatshirt.
Miguel laughs, but leans forward and reaches around your middle to snap the branch from where it’s stuck against your tailbone.
“Told ya.” He flattens his palms against the cool cement, you can feel the warmth of his thumbs on either side of your thighs. Rule number three, Don’t let him get too close. But you’re trapped already, surrounded in three of the four directions.
“I think we need to have a little chat, Mami.”
Maybe if you fall backwards into the tree behind you, you could try to make a break for it. A few scrapes and bruises sounds significantly more palatable.
“I think I’m good, I’ve met my heart-to-heart quota for the year.”
You try to stand, but Miguel’s hands keep your hips down where you’re sitting. You can feel the ridges of his fingers where his rings lie, the warmth of his skin, the slight tremor in his left hand.
“Ay coño,” Miguel tilts his face up to give you a smile, his canines look sharp enough to break skin, “no need to play coy now.”
Flashes of wet lips and borrowed shoes run past your vision. There’s no way you’ll make it out of this conversation in one piece, you feel yourself chipping already.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you yank the cigarette from Miguel as he exhales, blowing his smoke from the side of his mouth. What a gentleman.
“I see,” he tuts. You watch him swipe his tongue across his teeth, it takes every ounce of will to keep you from thinking about how your lip gloss tastes in his mouth.
“Maybe I should bring in an outside perspective, I wonder if Peter saw anything on Saturday.” Miguel stands up straight and spins around to feign walking away, “He can help us track down the creep that was watching me fuck your little friend-“
“I don’t know what you want me to say, O’Hara,” your jaw is clenched hard enough to snap wire, “That I’m sorry? I promise I didn’t see anything? I promise I won’t tell anyone?” At least anger is a little easier than shame. Even if you’re the one in the wrong, it feels evil for Miguel to play with his food like this.
“O’Hara?” He laughs, turning back to face you with crossed arms.
“Well, Parker, I guess I’m just wondering,” Miguel takes the spent cigarette from your hand, pulling the last of it with a final inhale and dropping it onto the ground. You hear the crunch of his boot as he puts it out.
“Did you like what you saw?”
His face is only as far away as your eyelashes, two hands coil around your legs, hiking them up behind your knees. His lips are so close to you that you can taste his gum- cinnamon. A flavor so specific to him, you swear that’s the only reason he likes it.
“No,” your voice is barely above a whisper, speaking to someone you wish couldn’t hear it, “I mean, I wasn’t trying to… watch you. I was going to the bathroom and-“
“And you thought you’d stop by for an anatomy lesson? I only promised I’d help you with Spanish.”
Your eyes prick with frustrated tears, it’s either fess up or fall backwards and make a break for it.
“I was drunk,” your voice is louder than it should be, the arch in Miguel’s eyebrow seems to agree with you.
“I was tired, a- and drunk, and when I walked by your room I was… curious, I guess.”
His hands loosen from where they press into your leggings. He hasn’t let go yet, thumbs now drawing circles into the thin spandex. If his touch wandered any farther, you’d be done for- the damp heat spilling from your center outwards is mear inches from the tips of his fingers.
“Little Parker was curious,” his voice croons, “about what exactly? The birds and the bees? What mommies and daddies do when they love each other?”
Miguel’s waist blocks your legs from twisting over each other, there’s no relief to be found, it seems there never is- for you at least.
“I know what the-” his patronizing widdles down any sharp comeback you’ve got holstered until the points are dull, “I’m not a fucking kid anymore. I’m plenty versed in that area of study, and I definitely don’t need any notes from you.”
You’re not as hopeless as Miguel thinks, your first year of college was spent on any ‘anatomy lessons’ you had still been missing. Underwhelming, unsatisfying, clinical even, but the specifics would be buried next to your grave before you’d give them to Miguel.
“Hey Mig, ya ready to go?” Your brother’s voice almost knocks you from the cement ledge you’re perched on.
Miguel doesn’t falter for a second, whispering into the shell of your ear and punctuating with one last malicious smile. Your skin feels sticky, like you’ve just crawled out of a mouse trap.
The words he moved around his lips are left to echo in the now-empty space in front of you. His Mustang whines as it pulls out of the driveway and you try to shake loose from the grip still searing your thighs.
“Just let me know if you need help studying those more private subjects, I’m known to be quite the tutor.”
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©️chiwhorei.2023 || don’t fuck with me I’m so serious
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340 notes · View notes
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feeling like shit rn, can you please write pete teasing his drunk baby and cleaning her up, holding her hair back when she pukes, she's like "i'm a mess, how can you love me" and he's kissing her face, that kind of fluffy shit <3
this is so stinkin cute
YOUR GIRL- P.B PARKER
Pairing: Boyfriend! Peter x Girlfriend! Reader
Word Count: 843
Warnings: some swearing, and vomiting ofc. but petnames and lots of fluff:))
"carry me to my bed, lay me in a pillow town kiss me on my head and remind me of the way we will not know
i wish i was your girl..."- your girl, lana del rey (unreleased)
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“M’Peter I’m done. No more.” you moaned, your body feeling weak and achey as you leaned against your forehead against the toilet seat.
You felt like you were being punched in the gut, pins and needles pricking your clammy skin as the world began to spin again. The booze was rushing to your head, and you started to regret drinking so much.
Actually, you started regretting it nearly half an hour ago, the cool bathroom tile becoming an secret oasis for you as you heaved up sweet coolers and warm shots of fireball.
“No, no baby you gotta get it all out. You’ll feel so much better.” he cooed from above you, hand holding your hair back, the other stroking your back in small, soothing circles.
You were jealous of how much better he could handle his alcohol. You were jealous of the fact he didn't have the taste of sickly sweet six percent on his teeth, mixed with the taste of faint vomit.
“I’m not feeling better. M’feeling worse. You’re lying.” you stated, groaning as you felt the contents in your stomach roll over like a tidal wave.
“I never lie sweetheart, you know this. Stop being mean.” he laughed, watching as you weakly attempted to reach behind yourself to swat at him. Before you could make another sly comment back, it was too late.
“Oh g-god-” you hiccuped, leaning further towards the toilet bowl as you felt the room start to spin.
“Oh, there she goes. Atta girl, let it all out.” he winced, patting your back as you heaved everything up, feeling as if you'd choke.
“Good girl. See? It’s better.” he said, reaching over to grab the damp cloth he had been using to help clean you up, so you’d stop (attempting) to use the back of your hand as a means of getting the puke off your lips.
“No not better. You’re better.” you moaned, not relaxing your words had made no sense.
“I am better. Now look up for me, good girl.” he smiled as you obeyed, makeup slightly smudged as he wiped the warm facecloth across the lower half of your face. Leaning down, he scattered kisses across your face, leaving you giggly as his lips brushed every inch of skin, tickling your eyelashes.
“I’m a mess, how can you l-love me?” you slurred, hearing the toilet flush before he helped you stumble upwards to stand.
“You’re not a mess. You’re beautiful.” he shoke his head, and you reached for the edge of the counter to help steady yourself.
You felt awful. You knew tomorrow morning would be hell on earth, and you already could predict the amount of tylenol and gravol you’d have to down with lots, and lots of water. It seemed like a chore, so out of reach as you felt yourself being guided towards the bed.
You couldn't even remember whose bed it was. It certainly wasn't yours.
“Do you wanna try and get out of these clothes?” Peter asked, to which you could only nod. Exhaustion washed over your bones, and you felt weak and nimble as thread as you swayed in place.
“I need them off. They’re sticking to me.” you complained, feeling like a rag doll as he moved your limbs to better suit his needs, lifting your arms up to slide your shirt off.
“I wish I was your girl. I wanna be your girlfrienddd.” you blurted out, slouching back on the bed, head pressed against the crisp sheets and you breathed them in. They were coated in the smell of Peter, and a sigh of relief escaped your lips as you realized you were safe in the comfort of his bed.
You could hear his laughter, though it sounded slightly muffled and distant as he unbuttoned your jeans, sliding the deminum down your legs and letting them plop onto the floor with the rest of your garments.
“You are my girlfriend silly. And I wouldn't have it any other way.” he hummed, shuffling you around so you were vertical, head collapsing on the pillow.
“Really? That's so sweet.” you smiled, content with the idea that the two of you were together (despite being a couple for over a year), as you always wanted.
“Lets just stay here. We can stay here all night.”
“We are staying here all night. And all day, most likely. You’re not moving in this condition.”
You smiled. “That means more time to cuddle.” you giggled, and he leaned over to kiss your forehead before turning away.
“W-where are you going? I thought we were going to cuddle, cause you’re my boyfriend and that's what they do!” you pouted, reaching aimsley for his hand in an attempt to keep him from leaving you.
“We will cuddle baby I promise. I’m gonna get some stuff like meds and a bucket okay? I’ll be right back.”
You nodded, letting your hand fall limp against the sheets. Before you could stop them, your eyelid started to droop, the world turning dark as you dozed off into dreamland.
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waitimcomingtoo · 1 year
Text
Part Of Your World ~ p.p
pairing: Peter Parker x mermaid!reader
chapter three: out of the sea
series masterlist
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“I need some legs.”
“Excuse me?” Dr. Strange asked as he put down his newspaper to see Peter standing in his doorway.
“Not for me. For my girlfriend. Perhaps you haven’t heard, but I’m dating a mermaid.” Peter shrugged like it was no big deal.
“No, I haven’t heard. I’ve been in Kamer-Taj for the last month. I’m just here to get some things.” Strange said dismissively as he gathered some things and slipped them into his satchel. He brushed past Peter to leave the room, then stopped.
“And by the way, even if I had been living here, I don’t take any particular interest in your personal life. I would like to make that clear.” He reminded Peter before walking away.
“Did you do something new with your hair? It looks amazing. Your hairline didn’t get further down, did it?” Peter laid the flattery on thick as he followed Strange down the hall.
“What do you want?” Strange sighed and stopped.
“I need you to cast a spell and give my mer-girlfriend legs so we can be together.” Peter said and clasped his hands under his chin.
“No.” Strange said immediately and walked away again.
“Please? She’s dreamt of being on land her whole life. There is nothing she has ever wanted more. I promised her I would get her some legs.”
“Well, you should not have have that promise since you have 0 way of fulfilling it.”
“But you do. You can do anything. I’ve seen it. Can’t you give my girl some legs?” Peter pleaded and continued to follow him.
“No. I don’t do favors. And I don’t mess with nature.”
“Please, Strange. She’s in trouble.” Peter begged, making Strange stop.
“What kind of trouble?” He asked and tried not to sound too interested.
“Her dad is super possessive and controlling of her. He’s gonna marry her off to someone she doesn’t love and keep her under the water the rest of her life.”
“She’s a mermaid, kid. She belongs under the water.” Strange reminded him.
“Not this mermaid. She’s always felt out of place down there. She belongs up here. She knows it and I know it. It’s all she’s ever wanted. Haven’t you ever wanted something so desperately that you’d give anything to get it?”
Strange was silent as he pondered Peters question. He thought of Christine and the watch she’d given him. Then he thought of how she looked on her wedding day.
“Bad things happen with you mess with nature. Things you would never see coming.” He said finally.
“I’ve seen you part a puddle so your cape wouldn’t get wet.” Peter pointed out.
“Is her dad really that bad?” Strange asked, knowing he was caught.
“Yes. He won’t let her do anything that makes her happy. He controls every aspect of her life. She has no freedom.” Peter told him. Strange was quiet for a minute and felt a twinge of sympathy for this girl he had never met.
“Fathers shouldn’t reprimand their daughters.” He said quietly. Peter smiled in relief, knowing he’d gotten through to him.
“Will you help her?” Peter asked hopefully, making Strange look at him.
“She really wants this?”
“More than anything.” Peter nodded. “And so do I.”
“Will you ever stop asking if I say no?” Strange asked, already knowing the answer.
“Never.” Peter confirmed. “I’ll be so annoying, you’ll wish you stayed a pile of dust.”
“Fine.” Strange said finally. “I’ll do it.”
“Thank you so much, Strange. You won’t regret this. I swear.” Peter grinned and tightly hugged him.
“It’s fine. Just don’t hug me anymore.” Strange said and wriggled out of the hug.
“I won’t.” Peter promised and quickly let go.
“I guess I can manipulate nature just this once. If your girlfriend wants legs that badly, I can give her some legs.” Strange decided.
“Now, these legs.” Peter began. “Will they come with…”
“Come with what?” Strange asked when Peter trailed off.
“You know, everything?” Peter asked and gestured with his hands.
“Yes. She’ll have toes, thighs, ankles, all of it.” Strange shrugged. “I’m not trying to trick you. I’ll give her legs and everything that comes with them.”
“Everything, though? Like, everything everything?” Peter raised his eyebrows.
“What?” Strange asked, starting to get annoyed.
“He’s trying to ask if she’ll have a coochie or not.” Sam said as he passed them in the hallway. Strange hung his head in disappointment as Peter blushed a deep red.
“Yes, she’ll have the proper anatomy of a biological female.” Strange said as he rubbed his eyes.
“Meaning?” Peter asked for clarification.
“She’ll have a coochie.” Strange said, unamused.
“Awesome.” Peter clapped. “For her. Not me. I really hyped up Charmin Ulta Soft toilet paper.”
“I have to warn you, though. Messing with reality like this can have consequences. I’ve never done this before. I can’t promise you what the outcome will be.” Strange warned.
“As long as I get to be with her, it’ll be okay.”
“All right. I need to perfect the spell first. Give me three days time.”
“Three days time?” Peter whined. “Is there no instant spell we could do?”
“Damn. He really wants that pacific coochie.” Sam said from down the hall. Peter groaned when he realized he was still listening and stamped his feet like a little kid.
“Stop listening! You’d do the same thing if you had a mermaid girlfriend. Which you don’t!” Peter shouted down the hallway.
“Says who?” Sam shouted back, making Peter go silent. Dr. Strange sighed again and shook his head in disbelief that he actually agreed to help Peter.
“So, I’ll see you in three days?” Peter said with a cheeky smile.
“Three days. And then we are taking a long, long break from each other.”
“Deal.” Peter grinned.
Meanwhile, you were in your cavern where you kept all the things you had collected. You were showing one of your sisters, Indira, the things Peter had brought you from the land.
“What’s that?” Indira asked when she noticed the bead bracelet on your wrist.
“Isn’t it neat? Peter calls it a bracelet. He made it himself. He even spelled my name with beads, see?” You smiled proudly and held your wrist out.
“Wow. Just like the humans wear.” She gasped and touched the plastic beads in awe.
“I know. I’ve never seen my name spelled out before. And look what else Peter brought me.” You clapped your hands in excitement before handing her a butter knife that Peter had brought on one of your dates.
“A sharp dinglehopper?” She asked as she took it in her hand.
“Peter said it’s called a “knife”. And apparently, the humans call dinglehoppers “forks”. Isn’t that amazing?” You gushed.
“I’m happy for you, Y/n. This Peter might be the one.” Indira smiled fondly at you.
“I hope so. I think I’m falling in love with him.” You confessed to her.
“But he’s a human. How could it ever work?” She asked as she took your hands.
“I’m not sure yet.” You admitted. “But Peter and I will figure it out. Together.”
“Who’s Peter?” Your fathers voice came booming through your cavern, making you and Indira jump and cling together.
“Daddy! Hi. I didn’t hear you come in.” You faked a smile and held your sister close.
“Who’s Peter?” He repeated as he looked disapprovingly upon your collection.
“No one. Just a merman I met.” You lied.
“I know all the mermaids in our reef. I’ve never heard of a Peter.”
“He’s new. His family just got here from the Atlantic.” You continued to lie as your father examined some of your newest additions. Your collection had grown significantly since meeting Peter and you father could tell.
“Where did you get all this stuff?” He asked, making you gulp.
“I collect things that fall into the water, daddy. You know this.” You played dumb. He grabbed your wrist suddenly and looked at your bracelet.
“Someone dropped a bracelet with your name on it into the water?” He asked skeptically.
“It must be a popular name with the humans.” Indira came to your defense. Your father turned your wrist over and saw that Peters name was also spelled out in beads.
“Peter.” He read off the bracelet.
“Oh, right. I forgot. Peter made this for me.” You laughed nervously.
“Peter had string and beads that spelled out both your names?” Your father asked and tightened his grip on your wrist.
“I had it in my collection. I let him borrow it.” You said quietly and tried to pull your wrist away. Your father threw your arm back at you and swam deeper into your cavern to look at the rest of your collection.
“What is this?” He asked as he held up a little Spiderman keychain Peter had gifted you.
“A keychain, daddy.” You said innocently. Your father tossed it back without a care and moved on. He picked up a laminated piece of paper and scanned the contents of it.
“A love letter?” Your father said in a low voice as he slowly looked up at you.
“Yes, daddy.” You gulped and squeezed Indira’s hand for comfort.
“It’s hard.” He said as he flicked it with his finger. He’s never seen paper before since it wouldn’t last under water, but he knew what it was. Beyond that, he knew there was no way you had just found this at the bottom of the sea.
“It was laminated.” You said quietly. He narrowed his eyes at you, not knowing what that word meant but not wanting to seem weak.
“Don’t use big words like that. You don’t know what they mean.” He sneered at you.
“I do know what it means. It’s when you put a piece of paper in a machine and it covers both sides with a layer is plastic to protect it.”
“And Peter did this?” He asked when he saw Peters name at the bottom.
“Yes, daddy.” You said with less confidence this time.
“Under the sea?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Yes?” You squeaked out, knowing he didn’t believe you.
“You’re lying to me. This is from a human, isn’t it? All of this is from a human.” Your father bellowed as he used his trident to smash parts of your collection.
“Daddy, no! My collection.” You cried out and tried to stop him from breaking anything else. You’d spent your whole life building your collection. It was all you had in the world. Watching him destroy it in a seconds felt like your heart was being ripped from your chest.
“I am so sick of your obsession with the humans. This is all human garbage. I won’t tolerate it anymore.” He shouted as he continued to break your prized possessions.
“No!” You cried and caught whatever was floating around you.
“Humans killed your mother. They will kill you too.” Your father screamed at you.
“Good! I’d rather be dead than live down here in this prison.” You screamed back at him.
“When I find this Peter, he will feel the wrath of Titans mighty trident.” He threatened and swung his trident at you. You quickly swam away from it as Indira swam away scared.
“But daddy, I love him!” You professed.
“You can’t love a human. I’ll be arranging your marriage to one of the mermen in the reef straight away. And believe this. You will never go to the surface again. You will never go so much as out of my sight. And you will never, ever see Peter again.”
“You can’t keep me from him. I love him. That’s my choice.” You stated firmly.
“Who do you think you are? You don’t get to make your own decisions. You’re not smart enough to. I make the choices around here. And I choose to forbid you from ever speaking of the humans again.” He shouted as he smashed the rest of your collection. You cried as you watched your life’s work get destroyed to pieces that floated around you. Once he was done, he grabbed the knife Peter had given you and swam towards you.
“Daddy, what are you doing?” You asked as you swam upwards.
“If you can’t keep quiet, I will keep you quiet.” He said and reached out it grab you. You dodged him and started to swim upwards as quickly as you could. He grabbed onto your tail but you quickly spun around and got loose. You smacked him with a flick of your tail and swam off in a blur. Since you explored often, you were able to lose him by swimming through every nook and cranny you’d discovered on your adventures. You could hear him swimming after you but never looked back. You darted and zig zagged until you were sure you lost him. You swam all the way to yours and Peters rock and hopped up on it just as Peter was swinging over. When he saw you already sitting there, he got worried that something was wrong. He landed and kissed you hello, making you burst into tears. He held you close and rubbed your back until you calmed down enough to speak.
“Hey, hey, hey. What happened? It’s okay, darling. It’s okay.” He said as he wiped your face.
“My dad knows about us. He’s already destroyed my collection. If he finds me, he’s gonna clip my tail and cut out my tongue. I’ll never see you again.” You cried against his shoulder.
“Don’t worry. I won’t let that happen. No one’s gonna hurt you, baby. I won’t let them.” Peter assured you.
“If we want to be together, we have to run away. Now. Were you able to talk to your people about getting me legs?” You asked and gripped his shirt.
“I was. But my sorcerer friend said he needs three days time.”
“Three days time?” You sighed.
“That was my exact reaction.”
“I don’t have three days. I need to get out of here now.” You gulped and looked around for your father or any of his men that may have followed you.
“I’m gonna swim back to shore. Wait for me there, okay?” Peter said as a half baked idea came to him.
“What’s the plan, Peter?” You asked him. Peter cupped your face and pulled you into a long kiss.
“The plan is I return the favor and rescue you.” He said once he pulled away.
“I like that plan.” You smiled softly. Peter kissed you one last time and then dove into the water. He swam until he reached rocks that he could swing off of off to get himself back to shore. By the time he got there, you were waiting in a bed of seaweed that concealed your tail. You’d never been this close to the shore before and it almost made you forget the situation you were in. Once Peter landed, he scooped you up and carried you to the beach.
“Why are you so heavy?” He groaned and struggled to run on the sand.
“I’m a human sized fish.” You reminded him.
“Oh. Right.” Peter realized and continued to carry you up the beach. Luckily, the sun had set and no one was around for miles so you didn’t have to worry about being seen. Peter was focused on getting you to his apartment without being seen, but you were focused on the world around you.
“My first time on land.” You whispered to yourself as you took in absolutely everything around you. The sand, the lights from the cityscape in front of you, the salty breeze, and the sound of seagulls in the distance filled you with the greatest joy you’d ever known. Peter noticed you looking around in amazement and stopped to give you a chance to see it all.
“Do you like it?” He asked, catching your attention.
“I’ve spent my whole life in the ocean. I’ve never been on the beach.” You sighed dreamily and looked around again.
“I’ll take you back one day. But first, you need your legs.”
You grinned and nodded your head as Peter continued walking. He carried you to the street and started running in the direction of his apartment. Since he needed two arms to carry you, he couldn’t use his webs.
“Are you sure you’ll be able to carry me all the way to your house?” You feared as he ran through the back streets of the city with you.
“I’m super human, remember? I got you, girl.” He said suavely.
“Okay.” You sighed happily and rested your head on his shoulder. Luckily, Peter didn’t live too far from the beach and was able to get you back to his apartment within 20 minutes.
“Okay. We’re here.” Peter said you arrived.
“This is where you live? It’s huge.” You gasped and looked at a building for the first time.
“You’re impressed by this? Wow. You really don’t know much about the above world.” Peter said out of the corner of his mouth.
“How will we get in?” You asked him.
“Great question. How am I gonna get a mermaid into my apartment without May seeing?” Peter chewed his lips and tried to think.
“Oh right. I can climb walls.” He remembered. He carefully maneuvered you around his body so that you could wrap your arms around his neck while he climbed the side of his building. It wasn’t safe to swing with you like that, but a quick climb felt okay. Once he got to his window, he opened it and threw you inside. You bounced off his bed and rolled onto the floor with a heavy thud. Peter quickly shut his window and was about to apologize when you sat up with the biggest smile.
“Your floor has hair!” You gasped and rubbed your hand on his carpet.
“That’s called the carpet, darling. And I wouldn’t touch it too much. There’s about a thousand Dorito crumbs in there.”
“What’s this?” You asked and patted his bed. Peter scooped you up and laid you down on his bed before explaining.
“This is called a bed. It’s where I sleep at night. Do mermaids sleep or are you guys like sharks?”
“We sleep. Usually on a pile of seaweed. Nothing like this thing.” You said as you rubbed your hands up and down his bed. You winced suddenly and rubbed your waist where your tail met your skin.
“Are you okay?” Peter worried.
“Sorry. My tail gets itchy and tight when I’m dry for too long.” You winced again and shifted uncomfortably.
“Oh, shoot. Let me run you a bath.” Peter said and quickly went into his attached bathroom. He waited for the water to get warm and then went to go get you. When he came back into his room, he found you chewing something.
“Um, sweetness, what’s in your mouth?” Peter asked calmly. You shrugged and held up a stick of deodorant with a bite taken out of it.
“Candy. Like the Sour Path Kids.” You said through a mouth full of deodorant.
“Oh God. Oh no. Okay. Let’s put that down.” Peter smiled sweetly and took the deodorant from your hands.
“Just one more bite.” You whined and tried to hold on to it.
“I’ll get you some real food once you’re in the bath.” Peter promised as he scooped you up off his bed. He carried you into the bathroom and gently put you in his bathtub.
“Okay. Stay here. I’ll go get you some food.”
“I can’t really go anywhere else.” You reminded him as you flicked your tail up and down.
“Right. Sorry.” He smiled tightly. He felt guilty when he looked at you in his tiny bathroom knowing you were used to swimming in the open ocean. He left the bathroom and soon returned with some of your favorites foods. He sat on the bathroom floor with you and ate while Peter explained all the things in his bathroom.
“I’m just so happy you’re here.” Peter said as he slipped his hand into yours.
“Me too. I’m finally on land!” You gushed and looked around Peters bathroom. It wasn’t exactly what you imagined for you first time on land, but it was still something you never thought you’d get to experience.
“And I’m with you. That’s the best part.” You turned back to Peter and squeezed his hand. Peter squeezed yours back before kissing your knuckles.
“You’re safe now.” He promised you. “And all we have to do is keep you hidden from my aunt for the next three days. Then you’ll get your legs and we can live like a normal couple.”
“Easy.” You smiled. “How hard could that be?”
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bittenbyyou · 10 months
Text
Inferior Flames (1)
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MCU!AU | MCU!Peter Parker x Stark!Reader | MCU!Spider-Man x Stark!Reader
genre: enemies to lovers, angst, slow burn, lil cute moments
description: Your father wants you to knock Peter down a peg. OR Peter is bitter because you’re an Avenger and he’s not.
word count: 3.6k
warnings: Tony Stark being your father is already a warning as to how ridiculous he could be lol, mentions of Spider-Man: Homecoming, references from Captain America: Civil War, idk where this would fit in the MCU timeline per se b/c I’ve only recently started watching all the Marvel movies. 
a/n: maybe it’ll be a series? idk, if you like it, lemme know!
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
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“Firefly, I need a favor.” Your father plopped onto the couch next to you, so you paused your show with the TV remote.
“What is it?” you asked, turning your body to give him your undivided attention.
“You know Spiderling, Spider-Boy?”
“Peter Parker, Spider-Man? Yes. How do you still not know his name?”
“My names are better.”
“Uh huh. Wait, he’s the one that rejected your proposal to become an Avenger.” You nudged him with your elbow, flashing a smirk.
“No, no. I don’t do rejection.”
“But he did turn you down.”
He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose to alleviate his frustration. “Sure. Whatever. Anyway, the kid wants to be an Avenger now. Been texting Happy nonstop about when’s the next mission and he’s wanting to see me tomorrow.”
You blinked twice and stayed quiet, a blank stare on your face as to why this was an issue. When he didn’t say anything, you gestured for him to elaborate.
“I don’t think he’s ready,” he added, crossing one arm over the other.
“You’re serious? Dad, you’ve never shut up about him ever since you gave him the suit. Even when I was abroad, I’ve seen what he can do. He’s amazing. You wanted him to be an Avenger.”
“I’m aware. But he said no and now… the ball is in my court.” The shit-eating grin on his face was soon replaced with a chuckle that sounded almost sinister.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I mean, he turned me down and now he wants me back. God, I’m making him sound like an ex-girlfriend.” He shivered in disgust and you rolled your eyes. “Anyway, I get to turn him down now. It’s great.”
“So you’re turning him down because he turned you down first. Petty much?”
“Hey, that is not what’s going on here.” He turned his attention to the paused TV screen instead of meeting your judgmental gaze.
“Dad, that’s exactly what you’re doing. You’re really letting your pride stop you from recruiting someone as amazing as Spider-Man? Let Peter join.”
“What, are you in love with him or something? You think he’s so amazing?” he asked while doing jazz hands at the word “amazing.”
You wouldn’t call it love; it was more along the lines of admiration. During your time abroad, your father filled you in on all his adventures and antics so if anything, it was his fault as to why you were somewhat enamored with Spider-Man. Deep down, you knew your father adored Peter, so it was only natural you did too.
“As a matter of fact, I do.”
“You can’t date anyone until you’re 21.”
“I’m telling Mom you’re being ridiculous.”
“I already told your mom and we’ve already established that I’m ridiculous,” he said proudly, as if it was a badge of honor.
“You told me you were proud of his decision to lay low.”
“I am. I was. But now the tables have turned and what kind of person would I be if I let him in so easily? The others think I’m crazy recruiting a 15 year old.”
“16 now actually,” you corrected.
“God, this is like deja-vu.”
You giggled. “I’m the same age as him and you’ve been wanting me to join too.”
“Don’t remind me. You were the first person to ever turn me down and I’m still recovering. I’m waiting for you to crawl back and beg me, saying ‘Dad, please! Let me be an Avenger!’ Like the kid is doing now,” he said, using a high-pitched voice when he was imitating you.
“Good luck with that. I have no interest in being an Avenger.”
“See,” he said, pointing his index finger at you, “that right there is why I need your help.”
You crossed your arms in the same way he did, skeptical of where he was going with this. “Go on.”
“I want you to pretend to be another recruit who wants to be an Avenger. I’ll tell him there’s only one position and make him work for it.”
“Dad…” you said sternly.
“What? He doesn’t know you’re my daughter. And I’m trying to protect him too. The kid’s been going off doing things on his own and not thinking clearly. He can wait on becoming an Avenger.”
“He stopped Vulture. He kept looking for those weapons when no one else would.”
“He’s reckless.”
“You’re using me to make him jealous.”
“A little,” he said with a shrug. “But I’m also looking out for him.”
“Uh huh.”
“He’s coming here tomorrow and I want you to battle him. If he beats you, he’ll get to join.”
“This is so stupid.”
“It’s genius, really.”
“You’re making a kid fight for something that you already want to give him.”
“No. Not yet.”
“You know he can’t beat me.”
Your father leaned in and pecked you on the forehead. “Exactly. Him losing will help him work harder to be better. This’ll give him that push he really needs. So will you help me?”
“Let me get this straight. You want me to fight Peter Parker and make sure he loses just so he doesn’t get to become an Avenger even though deep down, you want him to be one?”
“Precisely.”
“That’s the stupidest idea ever. And it’ll hurt his feelings.”
“No, it’ll build character. He needs to understand it’s not that simple. You can’t ask to become an Avenger and get it.”
“... But he can… because that’s what you wanted in the first place.”
“He turned me down so it’s only fair that he proves to me how much he wants it. Like a test. I’m testing him.”
“No. Dad, I’m not doing that.”
“I’ll enroll you in school right now instead of waiting for the following year.”
You sighed, contemplating his ridiculous proposition. He had adopted you when you were 10 on one of his missions overseas and has kept you a secret from the public. As much as it pained him, he could not bring you home right away because you required guidance on using your powers responsibly. You had to remain abroad for a while longer until the adoption forms went through and your mentors felt you were ready to leave the tiny village where you resided.
However, he and his wife Pepper, kept in touch and always checked in. He showed up every birthday and made it his mission to be a part of your life. Now that you were in high school and your powers were restored, he flew you into New York City right away.
It’s been a few months since your transition and you absolutely loved it. The Avengers who resided in the compound were very welcoming and so far, they were the only ones who knew of your existence along with your mom. Your father had yet to announce your identity to the world because he didn’t want the spotlight to overwhelm you. Originally he planned on having you relax a bit and then enroll you in public school next year, but going earlier was enticing to you.
“... Which school?”
“Spider-Man’s.”
“... Fine.”
“You do have a crush on him.”
“Shut up, Dad.”
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The next day…
Upon entering the foyer of the Avengers Compound, Happy led Peter to where Stark was. The man stood in the middle of the main entrance hall, sporting a classy suit and sunglasses. Peter clenched his fists in determination, carefully reciting the words he wanted to say in his head since the car ride over.
“Hey kid. What do you want?”
“Mr. Stark,” he squeaked. He shut his eyes in humiliation, clearing his throat and lowering his voice a bit to sound more confident. Once his eyes fluttered open, he puffed out his chest and said, “I changed my mind.”
“You changed your mind,” Stark deadpanned.
“Yes. I want to be an Avenger.”
“You understand why I’m skeptical.”
“Um… yes, but—”
“Look, you turned me down last time and am I used to rejection?” Peter opened his mouth to answer but was immediately cut off. “The answer’s no, but I respected your decision. All that talk about looking out of the little guy—great—so what changed?”
“I’m ready for more than that now.”
“No, you’re not.”
“That’s not what you thought when I took on Captain America,” Peter argued.
“Trust me, kid. If Cap wanted to lay you out, he would’ve.”
Peter furrowed his eyebrows at the realization that he got off easy, questioning his entire existence.
Stark pressed his palms together and pointed at him. “You really want to be an Avenger?”
The boy nodded eagerly. “Yes.”
He inhaled sharply through gritted teeth. “See, here’s the thing: there’s someone else.”
Peter’s face fell, heartbroken at the thought of being replaced. “What—What do you mean there’s someone else?”
“Well, after you turned me down, I recruited someone else. If you really want to be an Avenger, prove to me you’re better than her.”
“Wait, her?”
“Yeah. You think you got what it takes?”
“Well it’s rude to attack a lady—”
“No. Gender equality’s a thing, right? You beat her up, she beats you up. You both end up in casts—”
“Casts?!”
“Suit up and let’s go.”
With no other choice, Peter obeyed and did what he was told. His thoughts were racing at the thought of battling someone to prove his worth. But this was his dream and he had to get out of his own head. After he finished suiting up, Happy led Tony and him to the outdoor training area that featured a wide-opened space with reinforced surfaces.
It had strategically placed obstacles to encourage agility and tactical thinking during battles. Additionally, the area incorporated holographic projectors to create any virtual landscapes to simulate specific scenarios for the Avengers to train in.
And that was where Peter’s eyes landed on a figure in the distance. You, who was practicing your combat skills with a large kung fu spear. The way you moved was calculated, graceful, like a beautiful yet deadly dance. You performed many high kicks and flips, mesmerizing Peter as your hands maneuvered the spear so flawlessly around your body. Your father and Happy watched you, proud smiles plastered on both of their faces.
“That’s who you’ll be battling today,” Stark said, clapping his hands together once to catch your attention. You stopped what you were doing and landed in a perfect split with the spear parallel to your body, noticing your father and Happy’s presence. You got up and rushed over, your eyes quickly finding its way to the boy in the iconic red and blue costume.
“Hi D-... Mr. Stark. Happy.” You turned to Peter, loving the fact that he didn’t have his mask on yet so you could finally meet him as him. He was far cuter in person, you weren’t going to deny that. “I’m [Y/N].”
Your dad wanted this “test” to be authentic, so you couldn't tell Peter you were, in fact, a Stark. Plus you didn’t look like a Stark anyway, with you being adopted and all. It’d be a cinch.
“P-Parker, Peter. Parker Peter—I mean, Peter Parker,” Peter said softly, shaking your hand. God, you were so pretty that it made him a fumbling mess. He wondered if you two were the same age.
“Great. Now that both you kiddos are here, you both know what you have to do, right?”
You and Peter looked at each other and exchanged awkward smiles. “Mr. Stark, I’m not comfortable battling a… um…”
“Girl?” you finished. “I’d be more worried about yourself, darling.”
The way the word “darling” rolled off your tongue caused Peter’s face to redden like a cherry.
“I’m not saying girls can’t battle, I’m just saying I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Are you going to hold back if the enemy is a woman?”
Peter opened his mouth to say something but to no avail.
“You said you wanted to be an Avenger. There’s only one position available, so we’re going to be testing you both. Happy will launch the simulation sequence and then you two will be fighting one-on-one,” your father explained.
“Good luck,” Happy said, trying hard not to laugh. The two men walked a safe distance away where they could observe you both.
“What’s the simulation sequence?” Peter called out before putting on his mask.
“We’re going to be launching drones at you,” Stark called back from afar with cupped hands.
“Drones?!”
“Yeah, we want to see how much you’ve improved!”
“In 3, 2, 1!” Happy shouted as he pushed some buttons on his phone.
You and Peter both stared up at the sky as a swarm of drones lined up in a similar fashion as the game Space Invaders.
“May the best Avenger win,” you said, sending him a wink. He laughed nervously as you immediately launched yourself in the sky. Peter gasped in awe.
“She can fly?!”
Hovering in front of the drones, you closed your eyes and pressed your index and middle fingers together, forming a "V" shape. Bringing the fingers perpendicular to your forehead, it felt as if you were beckoning an unseen force. With unwavering focus, you opened your eyes, and the spear you held multiplied tenfold, floating effortlessly beside you. Extending your arm forward, you pointed confidently at the drones, issuing a resolute command for the spears to launch their attack. Explosions scattered throughout the sky as you managed to wipe out half the drones with one attack.
“And she can multiply things. Great,” Peter huffed, launching a web at one of the drones to join you.
“She’s going to destroy him,” your father said, chuckling to himself.
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“Kid, come back. Don’t be such a sore loser.”
Peter shook his head while removing his mask, muttering self-deprecating thoughts to himself at his performance. You watched as he walked away, rubbing the back of your neck.
“Did I go overboard?” you asked, a tinge of guilt eating away at your conscience. Your father chuckled and waved off your concern with a flick of the wrist.
“No, you did great. He’ll be fine.” He went after Peter and placed a hand on his shoulder to prevent him from going any further. “Hey. You put up a good fight.”
Peter spun around, exasperated and using his hands to express his frustration. “I lost. There was no way I was going to win. She can fly, she can multiply things, she can use telekinesis, she can breathe fire—is she part dragon? How was I supposed to compete with that?!”
You saw him pointing at you from afar, giving him a small smile but was only reciprocated with a frown.
Tony put on a contemplating face. “Is she part dragon…?” he mumbled. “Anyway, I told you that I had to find someone else after you said no. And she’s earned her place. I’m sorry you’re disappointed, but you lost fair and square.”
“But—”
“No buts. You aren’t ready. So lay low, be a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, and work your way up. Go to school, focus on classes, and finish that homework you’ve been putting off.”
“I don’t need to go to school.”
“Yes. You do. Even she goes to school,” Stark said, pointing over in your direction.
You went over to where Happy was, your eyes still glued on your father and Peter. “Happy, he looks so heartbroken.”
“I know. But it’s for the best. Kid’s too eager and knocking him down a peg might do him some good.”
“I feel bad.”
He patted your back and gave you a reassuring smile. “He will be okay. Your father appreciates your help.”
You immediately straightened your posture when you saw Peter come over with your father.
“Anything you want to say to [Y/N]?” your father asked, giving Peter a gentle nudge from behind.
“Congratulations,” Peter said, mustering up as much strength as he could to give you a smile. Because he really was happy for you, but it hurt for him. The smile didn’t reach his eyes and the pitiful gaze in yours wasn’t helping.
“Thanks. You did really well.”
“Yeah, but I have all the bruises,” he joked, pointing at his face in a circular motion. You took a step forward and placed your palm out in front of his face.
“May I?”
His eyes widened in confusion, but he nodded anyway. An ember glow emitted from your hand and all his bruises healed in a matter of seconds.
“You can heal people too? What on earth can’t you do?” Peter was both fascinated but also very annoyed at your perfection.
“I can only heal minor bruises,” you said quickly.
“Of course,” he muttered.
“Happy, take him home for me.”
“Got it. Come on, Peter.”
“Bye Peter,” you said, giving him a shy wave. He only gave you another meek smile before walking away. You glared at your father, who only let out a sigh of relief.
“Great job, kiddo.”
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The next day at school Ned practically crashed into Peter, who was at his locker minding his own business.
“Dude, dude, dude!”
“Whoa, what is it, Ned?!” Peter said, a hand on his chest from the sudden heart attack that was his best friend.
“There’s a new girl and she’s so cute. Have you seen her yet?”
Peter closed his locker shut, wracking his brain for a moment when he saw an unfamiliar face today. “No, I haven’t. What’s her name?”
“Uh… I can’t remember. Was it [wrong name]? Or maybe [another wrong name]?”
Peter looked down the hall and somehow amongst a cluster of students, he spotted you walking towards him. Like a moth to a flame, his eyes somehow went straight to you and only you. Irritation overcame him as he remembered the battle from yesterday. How you beat him so effortlessly, so ridiculously cool and being all perfect. And now you’re at his school? What, were you mocking him?
“Ned,” Peter said, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Is that her?” He pointed at you and nodded his head in your direction.
Ned looked over in your direction and snapped his fingers. “Yeah! That’s her.”
“Dude, that’s the girl,” Peter muttered.
“Huh? What girl?”
He thought about how he sulked on the apartment balcony, venting to Ned about you. “The… girl… remember what I told you over the phone yesterday?”
It took a few seconds, but Ned’s brain finally clicked. “She’s the one that beat you? Her? Oh my god, you didn’t mention how cute she was!”
“Will you keep your voice down? She’s coming this way!” Peter opened his locker again and hid his face behind it. Ned shook his head in disapproval.
“Are you embarrassed? Come on. Challenge her again.”
“I can’t.”
“I’ll do it for you.”
“No, dude, stop. You aren’t supposed to know about her. Mr. Stark will kill me.”
“But she goes to our school.”
Peter hid his face in his locker until you finally passed. He let out a huge sigh of relief, feeling like he had dodged a bullet. That was, until Ned shouted out, “Hey! New girl!”
You stopped at the familiar label people were referring to you as. Once you turned around, you saw Ned’s huge smile while Peter still cowered in his locker. The boy you were walking with scoffed at Ned’s boldness.
“You don’t need to engage with them. They’re nobodies.”
“That’s not very nice, Flash,” you said, frowning at his poor choice of words.
“If we’re nobodies, why is she friends with Peter then, huh?” Ned exclaimed loudly. If a black hole could open up and swallow Peter whole, now would be the time.
“What, you know Penis Parker?” Flash asked you, incredulous at the new information. Peter carefully pulled his head out of his locker enough to take a tiny peek at you. He wondered what you were going to say.
“Yeah. I know Peter, Flaccid Flash,” you replied, bumping into his shoulder deliberately as you made your way over to Peter and Ned. The entire hallway filled with laughter at your stinging remark.
“Hi. I’m [Y/N]. I think we maybe got off on the wrong foot. How about we start over?”
Peter looked at your extended hand as if it was a foreign object, standing still as a statue. When his brain finally registered what you said, Ned had beat him to it, shaking your hand so fast like he was in the presence of royalty. “We would love to start over. I’m Ned. Peter’s best friend.”
You let out a laugh. “Hi Ned. It’s lovely to meet you.”
Without thinking, Peter grabbed your other hand. “Come with me.”
You didn’t have time to react and he led you to the nearest empty classroom, thankful class hadn’t started yet.
“What are you doing here?” he interrogated, letting go of your hand. You leaned against the wall, crossing one foot over the other.
“I go to school here now?”
“But why here?”
“Because… it’s a nice school?”
Peter placed a hand on his forehead, his jaw clenched as he thought of what to say next without sounding like an ass. “Look, you beat me and you’re an Avenger fair and square. I’m happy for you, really.” His words became soft and broken towards the end. “But seeing you reminds me that Mr. Stark will never be impressed with me. So can you give me space?”
His voice was frail but sincere. You got off the wall and gave him a nod. “Okay. I’ll leave you alone.”
“Thank you.”
Before Peter could leave, you asked him one last question. “Sorry, but could you tell me where gym class is? I have it first period.”
It took everything in Peter not to curse out loud. He had to fight back his bitterness and said through gritted teeth. “Yeah. I have it first period too.”
You smiled to yourself, trailing closely behind him as he led you both to your first class. Together.
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Reblogs and thoughts are appreciated! Thank you!
Update: I might be in the middle of writing a part 2. :) Your support means a lot!
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amazingmsme · 7 months
Text
The Boo Brothers
AN: Late, I know, but class doesn’t get out til 9. This prompt was really fun to write! Peter & Miguel are really goofy & I just love them. How you enjoy day 10!
Peter B. Parker was a class A goofball. He liked playing games and being silly, but most importantly, he liked making people laugh and have some fun. And he was damn good at it.
Halloween always put him in a bit of a spunky mood, and he felt inspired to cause a little mischief. Maybe the chill in the air put a spring in his step, or the fun and spooky atmosphere reminded him of his love of lighthearted pranks. Whatever it was, he felt the need to pull one over on someone. He was walking down the hall when he passed an open door and saw the usual spider-gang hanging out in the wreck room: perfect.
The idea popped up so suddenly and without any preamble, that it nearly startled Peter. But he shoved his hands into his robe pockets and casually strolled in, going along with it as if he'd had this plan all along. He had a natural commitment to any bit tossed his way the likes of which you have never seen.
That is not to say that the others don't know when he's doing a bit. Quite the contrary. It is rather obvious when Peter begins some long winded ruse, but everyone is too interested in where he's going with it to put an end to it.
He flopped his right hand around in his pocket, wiggling fingers, anything he could to make it look like something was caught in there. Pavitr was the first to take notice, doing a double take when he noticed the frantic movement of his pocket and stared with wide eyes.
"Dude, what's going on with your pocket? Did you catch a squirrel or something?" he asked, drawing the rest of their attention to Peter, and now they all wanted to know what the hell he had in his pocket. Peter played along.
"Heh, no. I wish it were that simple," he said in a serious tone. He schooled his features, lunging a trapped hand at Gwen, who happened to be the closest. She squealed and jumped back as Peter reigned in his arm.
"What the hell Peter?" she asked, cheeks faintly flushed. He did his best to act apologetic.
"I'm sorry, but that's why I came to see you," he said, clutching onto his right wrist with his other hand, forcing it to stay inside the pocket. They all stared at him with confused looks.
"I'm sorry, what?" Gwen asked, arms crossed. Peter rolled his eyes, as if annoyed he had to explain himself.
"Um, look, I'll just cut to the chase. Ghosts and demons and stuff are cool now, right? And you guys are all pretty cool kids, so you're keeping with the trends-" he rambled. Miles furrowed his brows in worry and utter cluelessness, looking to Hobie for any indication of what the actual fuck he was talking about. Hobie arched a brow and shrugged, sporting an amusedly confused smirk. "I guess what I'm trying to ask is, do you guys know anything about possession?"
Gwen scoffed. "You think you're possessed?" she asked skeptically.
“Absolutely! And I’d appreciate it if you took this seriously,” he said, really hamming it up. “I mean, if you don’t believe me, just look!” He “released” his hand from the robe pocket and it made another grab at Gwen, this time being successful. He latched onto her sides and squeezed, sending her into a fit of giggles.
“You liahahar!” she squealed, doubling over as Peter scribbled over her tummy.
“Nu uh!” Peter insisted, continuing the ticklish assault. “See, it happened after MJ got me last night. My hands have been restless ever since,” he lamented, working up Gwen’s sides. “I’m afraid I’m possessed by some kind of tickle monster!”
“You ahahare not!” she denied. Hobie shrugged, a smirk tugging on his lips.
“Don’t know mate, seems legit to me,” he teased. Peter smirked himself and turned on the tallest teen, making him stumble back with a yelp. He managed to wrestle his arms above his head, alternating scribbling in each pit.
“I just can’t help who I attack! Sorry Hobie, I really can’t help it!”
“Shuhut it you bahahastard!”
“Hey, I’m just as much a victim in this as you are!”
Miguel stood in the doorway, dumbfounded, and crossed his arms over his chest. He cleared his throat, grabbing their attention.
“Is there a reason you’re torturing them, or are you just bored?” he asked in a neutral tone, arching a brow.
“Peter’s possessed by a tickle monster!” Pavitr supplied. Miguel couldn’t roll his eyes hard enough.
“Is he now?” he asked, seemingly uninterested. “Well I guess I’ll leave you all to it.” He turned to leave and felt a hand around his wrist yank him back. He stumbled a few feet, being caught by Peter from behind.
“Sorry bud, but I can’t help myself right now,” he said sympathetically as Miguel hissed and thrashed in his hold. He tried to fight back the deep laughter that wanted to spill out when Peter started kneading his hips.
“G-go toho hehehell,” he giggled out through clenched teeth. Peter gasped.
“Well that’s rude!” Peter exclaimed, one hand roaming down to squeeze his thighs. Miguel burst into loud belly laughs, shoving weakly at Peter’s hands. He made a show of taking a deep breath before blowing a raspberry against Miguel’s neck.
A string of curses gave way to helpless cackles and snorts, especially when Peter started nibbling. “Ohohokahay, oho fuhuhuck thahat’s bad! Peter!” Miguel scolded through hysterics, and needless to say everyone in the room was thoroughly amused.
Peter backed off with a smug grin. “You alright?” Miguel stood there, catching his breath and shot a harsh glare at him. He also shot him the bird. If it was even possible, Peter grinned wider.
“What?” Miguel snapped, though it wasn’t as harsh as you’d expect.
“I bit you. You’re possessed now, it’s how it works,” he explained, oh so casually. Miguel scoffed, furrowed his brows, doing anything to try to appear not amused.
“Bullshit.”
“No, it’s true! It had to be how MJ transferred it to me!” he explained frantically.
“You’re really gonna blame your wife?” Miguel quipped. Pavitr barked out a laugh before covering his mouth with his hand.
“You’re missing the point. You’re possessed by the ghost too now,” he said, acting as though it was grave news, but the sparkle in his eyes when he looked at Miguel said otherwise.
“Oh so it’s a ghost now?” he asked, not even bothering to hide his amusement anymore. “Well then, it’s a good thing they aren’t real.” He walked to the doorway, but only made it about halfway.
Miguel suddenly doubled over in pain, a dramatic and very convincing groan emitting from his throat. They all watched on in concern as he jerked upright, arching his back. He unshed his claws with a dramatic motion of his hands. A deep, low chuckle left his lips as he slowly turned towards the group.
“Well well well, it would seem that Miguel is no longer with us,” he said in a threatening tone. He caught Peter’s gaze and flashed a sharp grin, winking. He addressed the rest of them, “But he wanted me to tell you: run.” He really didn’t have to tell them twice.
They scattered like mice, and Peter easily caught Miles in the rush. He was giggling before he even touched him, but the laughter doubled once he dug into his ribs.
Miguel was able to snatch Pavitr by the collar of his shirt, yanking him back and into his clutches. He clawed at his belly and Pav immediately let out a giggly shriek.
They carried on like this for some time, playing this odd game of chase. Every once in a while, Peter would glance at Miguel and see the way he was smiling and actually laughing along with the rest of them.
Maybe Peter should get “possessed” more often.
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sciderman · 6 months
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i stg im going to kiss you i love how you sneak in symbolism and themes into spiderpool. the way peter's hair is so unnaturally slicked back and uniform, boring and uncharacteristic. it almost looks like a completely different person. but as soon as johnny says "spider" it's his hair. it's HIM. reinforcing the theme of peter parker being a mask for spider-man,,,, gosh i love your mind
bless you!! bless you bless you!! oh, peter and his perpetual dissatisfaction with his hair...
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you know, i've kind of been obsessed with peter's forehead curls being a spider-like sort of a thing since i saw this one art of peter with these two forehead curls that looked like the pincers of a spider. like this. like this.
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i think i've drawn it a few times, in like, earlier ask-spiderpool days. infrequently, because i had like, no consistency with peter's hair back in those days. but i remember the idea rotating in my head constantly. spider-pincers!!!1 the curls are spider-pincers!!
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eventually i opted for the single forehead curl, because it's pretty consistently recurring in the comics - peter's little forehead curl, my beloved...
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but the thought of peter's forehead curl being something like a spider's pincer has lived in my head constantly,, and still does, every time i draw it.
and!! it's always like, a little bit of a reminder, especially with 616 peter and his usually pretty kempt hair that he's always got this dishevelment about him. i love those little shabby messy bits of peter, even though he dresses so formal and he looks so square, he's always got that little bit of unkemptness. his hair's always got that one little curl that he can't seem to contain.
i love it being a stupid little thing that even a wig can't hide.
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it's so stupid but it means so much to me.
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it's also why i love peter's perpetually mismatching socks
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and his stupid little shirt tag that makes me froth at the mouth.
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underoospeterparker · 5 months
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hii hru?? ik u have a lot of requests but i was wondering if i could request a 🫶 with tasm!peter parker where gn!reader gets rly stressed and eventually it gets to the point where their hands are shaky all the time, and peter expresses concern & reminds them to take their anxiety meds🙃 sorry if ur not comfortable w writing the last part,, but yeah js peter hurt/comfort!! i love ur writing & hope ur having a great week!
hi sweetheart! i wrote something similar to this but I'm gonna write another one, kind of like a part 2 if you'd like that :)
part one, two
"Honey?" Peter's voice snapped you out of whatever it was you had just been thinking about, and you turned to him with a dazed expression on your face. You blinked, and your vision finally turned clear. The space between his eyebrows was creased, a concerned frown already on his face. "Are you okay?"
You tried your best to attempt a smile, but it was small and fake, and it didn't placate your boyfriend's worries. "Yes, I'm fine. Don't worry about me."
His frown lines became deeper, if that was even possible. "Your hands are shaking, sweetheart."
You looked down, and sure enough, Peter was right. He took your hands in his, squeezing them in his large, warm palms. "Did you take your meds today?"
The blank look on your face answered his question, and he got up from the sofa. You let go of his hands and they resumed their shaking, Peter's gaze not moving from them as he walked over to the kitchen to get you a glass of water.
He took his place next to you again, placing the cup on the coffee table before reaching out for the tablets wrapped in foil. "I know it's hard to remember, honey, but you have to take them," he said, voice demanding but still soft, because he could never find it in himself to yell at you.
He handed you the tablet, and lifted the glass to your mouth as you swallowed it, knowing water would have spilled if you'd done it yourself. "There we go, good job," he murmured, once you'd downed the entire glass, clearly thirsty since you hadn't drank anything since the morning.
"I'm sorry," you apologised, leaning into him as he opened his arms for you to cuddle.
He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, wrapping himself around your slightly smaller frame. He reached for your hands, still shaking but only in the slightest, something only he would have noticed. "There's nothing to be sorry about." His voice soothed you, even more than the medicine. "It must be tiring," he added, "to have to be worrying all the time."
You felt understood, more so than you'd ever felt. "So tiring," you agreed, head tucked in his chest. His heart broke and then healed, just a little, as you shuffled in closer to him.
"I know," he cooed, "you're okay now. Promise."
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