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marvelyningreen · 3 years

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Gone Fishin’

Father’s Day 2/2

Peter Maximoff & Erik Lehnsherr

-🎣-

Even Peter could barely believe how long he’d sat still – like, actually sat still without zipping off to get something else done while he waited – in the garden behind the school. Sure, it’d only been about twenty minutes, but that was an eternity for him.

Oh, looked like the waiting was over. Peter caught sight of Erik walking down the back stairs. Perfect.

“Hey!” he called out.

As Erik glanced in his direction, Peter decided to be polite and walk over to him and a normal pace.

“Not going on that mission with the others?” Peter asked.

“Several world powers would rather prefer that I didn’t,” Erik said dryly, “So, no. I remain in retirement.”

Peter grinned. “Great! That means you’ve got the morning free, then, right?”

A suspicious look crossed Erik’s face.

“I suppose I do,” he said, and it almost sounded like a question.

“Well, come on! We’re burning daylight here.”

Peter grabbed Erik’s arm with one hand, bracing his neck with the other.

“Peter, I don’t-”

He took off without giving Erik a chance to finish his thought. This was only sorta kidnapping, considering this guy was one of the most powerful mutants on the planet. If he absolutely wanted to leave, Peter would take him back to the school before he could, who knows, yank out all the iron in his bloodstream or something.

Peter came to a halt where he’d left the gear earlier that morning. Thankfully, it was all still there. He wasn’t sure somebody would want to steal a bunch of borrowed old fishing gear, but dumber things had happened. He slowed back down to normal speed, making sure Erik didn’t faceplant before releasing his hold.

“- know what you’re getting at,” Erik finished, just a little dazed. “Where on earth are we?”

The little lake was a few miles outside of town, just below a dam. When he was running errands one day, Peter heard a couple of older locals discussing it as a good fishing spot. It was secluded enough – just a little access road leading to a small boat launch, without even a fishing dock. Peter kinda figured that, for as much time as Erik spent at the Xavier mansion years ago, he’d probably never been down this way.

“I heard it’s a good spot for fishing,” Peter said. “And it’s boring to go alone, so…”

“Fishing,” Erik repeated flatly.

“Yeah.” Peter paused. “Unless… you’ve got something else going on?”

He held Erik’s gaze for a second, certain he was going to demand to be taken back to the school rather than be forced into a trivial outing.

But Erik just sighed. “Alright, then. What do you fish for?”

“Me? Validation, mostly.” Peter laughed, then broke off, clearing his throat awkwardly. “Right, sorry. The professor said I should stop using self-deprecating humor as a defense mechanism.”

“That… certainly sounds like something Charles would say.”

Welp, that couldn’t have gone worse if he’d tried. Peter busied himself with checking over the fishing poles, and took a second shot at answering Erik’s question.

“Bass, I think,” he said. “At least, that’s what people say. I’ve never actually caught anything. I get bored after five minutes, y’know?”

He grinned, handing Erik one of the poles. Erik took it with an expression of complete exasperation.

“Why on earth did you drag me all the way out here if you don’t catch any fish?” he asked, massaging his forehead.

“Wha-? What kind of a question is that? Fishing is fun! That’s the sort of thing that people do on… on days like today, right?” Nearly blew it again right there. Peter turned away. “Where did I leave those worms?”

“You didn’t bring any,” Erik said flatly.

“I… oh.”

Shit. At a loss, Peter stood motionless for a second, staring down at the now-useless assortment of fishing gear. He’d made a mess of things, like usual. Well, nothing else for it now. He straightened up, turning back to face Erik with a smile.

“That’s fine!” he said cheerily. “I’ll just run back and-”

“Peter, wait,” said Erik, grabbing his arm as he went to turn away again. “I know.”

Erik released his arm and regarded him in silence. Panic was setting in. Was this the plan? Peter couldn’t remember how he’d wanted this conversation to go. He shifted his weight, rubbing at the back of his neck in a desperate attempt to appear casual.

“You, uh… You know?” he floundered. “What, exactly, is it? That you know?”

“I know that you’re my son.”

Peter’s stomach dropped. Erik was hard to read to start with, and Peter couldn’t begin to figure out what he was thinking. Every chaotic conflicted feeling Peter had had since he was a kid washed over him at once, and sent him reeling inwardly.

“You, uh… Huh.” Peter’s mouth felt as dry as chalk. “I didn’t think you… did.”

“Of course I know,” said Erik. “How could I not? Do you think I can look at you and not see your mother in your face?”

Peter suddenly found it very hard to meet Erik’s gaze.

Ever since he’d put two and two together himself, Peter had worried that he reminded his mom too much of Erik, that even looking at him would bring up painful memories for her. So hearing that Erik saw something of his mom in him, too… It made him happy, honestly – but it was hard to know how Erik meant it.

“I kinda figured, uh…” Peter frowned for a moment, struggling to find the right words. “When I was a kid, at least, I kinda figured that you knew about me, and you just didn’t want anything to do with me because I was always such a screw-up. But I wanted you to care, I guess.”

With a flick of his wrist, Peter sent the stone sailing across the water. It didn’t skip even once, just hit the water with a dull plunk and sank to the bottom. Wow. What appropriate imagery.

“But then Cairo happened,” he went on, “And when they told me everything that’d happened to you, I just… I knew it was the wrong time. With everything you’d lost, I couldn’t. I’m sorry for bringing it up. I’m making a mess out of this, I know. It’s just… maybe there won’t ever be a right time. I didn’t want to wait too long and be too late, y’know?”

A breeze, barely cooler than the hot June sun, skated across the lake. Ever since Peter hit his late twenties, it’d gotten so much easier to match the pace of the rest of the world without getting impatient. Not now, though. The seconds he waited for Erik to reply passed at an agonizing crawl.

“You’re right, you know.”

Peter’s gaze snapped back to Erik as he finally spoke. Erik watched him for a second more, smiling sadly.

“I wouldn’t have been ready to hear it then,” Erik went on. “I want to thank you – for giving me time to grieve.”

“If you need more time, that’s okay,” Peter said hurriedly. “I’m not trying to pressure you or anything, I just-”

Erik shook his head. “I think I’ve made you wait long enough. You’re already a better man than I’ve ever been, Peter. Please understand that I don’t say this lightly. Your unflinching courage, the hope you bring to those around you – these are things to be proud of.”

Peter looked away again, falling back on his usual self-deprecation.

“I don’t… I mean-” He broke off suddenly as he felt Erik grip his shoulder.

“I know that I’ve hardly been a father to you, and for that, I am sorry. But I’d be proud to call you my son, Peter.”

Dammit, he didn’t think he was gonna get choked up over this. But whenever he’d thought through how this conversation would play out, it always seemed to end in rejection or indifference. That Erik might actually, honestly be proud of him was something Peter had never really considered.

Peter sped up for just a second – just long enough to wipe at his eyes without Erik seeing – and then cleared his throat to steady his voice before answering.

“I’d like that,” he said. “If, y’know, if you’re okay with it.”

“I don’t say things I don’t mean.” Erik smiled, releasing his shoulder and taking a step back. “Now, run off and get us some worms. It sounds like you’ve got more fishing experience than I do, so you’ll have to teach me.”

With a grin, Peter sped off. Part of him still kinda expected to find the shoreline empty when he got back, but no – Erik was still there waiting for him.

Him and his dad having their first ever fishing trip. Huh. Peter couldn’t think of a better way to spend Fathers Day.

#peter maximoff #erik lehnsherr #dadneto #x men fanfiction #xmen fanfiction #xcu #fox x men #Peter’s like ‘it was either this or golf. and I really feel like golf would’ve been a mistake’#purely theoretical knowledge of what to do on father’s day #the poor guy #XP

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babyjamiebarnes · 3 years

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Build-A-Bear

Part Ten

Featuring: Bucky x Stark!reader, dad!Tony, Peter Parker, Steve, Sam

Warnings: mentions of smut (bondage, anal play, breeding kink, slight voyeurism), language, mentions of arson

Summary: Now that reader is stuck back at her apartment, she can finally feel safe again — until that safety is completely compromised. And more than her physical safety is put on the line.

Author’s Note: I’m so fucking stoked for this chapter!!! This is when it starts to get wild!! I hope you all like it! If you even read this, you should let me know who you think the person in question is (you’ll know what I mean when you read it lol). And as always, feel free to buy me a coffee if you want!

Tags: @amourmarvel @fangirlvoice @kennedywxlsh @devilswaldorf @what-the-hap-is-fuckning @alyispunk @fredweasleysbitchh @wearegroot @sunflowerbebe107 @prestigious-tea @brckenmemories @angelbabymed

Series Masterlist

Spending the next two weeks sequestered in your apartment wasn’t terrible, but it just cemented your assumption that you couldn’t even pretend to be normal anymore. At least when you were at the Tower, you felt like another face in the crowd compared to the Avengers.

Accommodating your work from home setup wasn’t easy, but you all made it work. Peter worked with you when he was back for a weekend. He even helped you go through more of your fan mail, if you could even call it that. There were some parcels that were genuine fan mail, people wishing you well and young girls saying you inspired them to pursue STEM careers; there were some death threats that you had to send to local law enforcement to investigate; there were mostly creepy letters from men you could only assume were older than your father. One man wrote that he wanted to find out if you smelled as beautiful as you looked. Cringe. Another wrote about how he wanted to suck on your toes until they were wrinkly. Gag. The worst was a man who said he wanted to be sandwiched between you and your dad. Barf.

Steve and Sam used the scanner your dad made to check all your mail before it was even brought upstairs. None had been poisoned or set to explode, but some contained explicit items that you were more than happy to not see.

It was still slightly traumatizing when Steve waltzed in with a package in his arms and said, “Hey [Y/N], I didn’t toss this one because it doesn’t look like it’s from a person. Did you order something from… Romantix?”

You paused mid-chew as you, Bucky, and Sam all sat in your living room enjoying a nice Saturday lunch. Bucky wasn’t fazed, continuing to eat his food; Sam, however, busted out laughing.

“What’s in it, Steve?” Sam asked loudly, clearly trying to rile you up.

“Uh, all the scanner showed was a couple small golf balls -- I think -- and what looked like a top? And a remote.”

Sam kept giggling to himself, Bucky and Steve both looked confused as hell. You moved to grab the box from Steve but Sam beat you to it, tutting at you as you reached for it again.

“Uh-uh. We should open it to make sure everything is safe,” Sam teased.

“Everything in there is safe, I promise,” you swore. When you tried to steal the package back, Sam yoinked it further from your grasp with a devious smile. Your cheeks were burning hot at the thought of the inevitable. Sam was going to open your box, Steve was going to turn red as a tomato, and Bucky was… well, hopefully he was going to take you to your room for the rest of the day.

And before you could try to snatch the box away again, Sam ripped the packing tape off and pulled out the first item: kegel balls.

“What are those?” Steve asked.

“Don’t worry about it!” you shouted, grabbing the vacuum-packed, heavy silver balls from a still giggling Sam. He reached back into the box and you realized you may just have to suck it up and let him have his show-and-tell.

“Here’s that ‘top’ you were talking about,” Sam joked. And in his hands sat… the butt plug.

“Sam, stop! Literally no one here needs to see this except me and Bucky,” you whined.

“In that case, I’m curious. What else is in there?” Bucky asked, leaning forward to peek inside.

“Bucky! You’re supposed to be on my side!”

Sam shrugged and handed the box to Bucky so he could rummage through it instead. You couldn’t really complain as much now that your boyfriend was doing the snooping instead.

“What the -- oh,” Bucky said as he lifted the next item: a remote… tied to a pair of thin black panties.

“Why would those come together?” Steve asked. You weren’t sure if he was serious or not because he may have been born in the early 1900s, but he would’ve had to have checked out modern porn and kinks by now, right?

“Do you want to tell him or should I?” Sam asked with raised eyebrows. His lips were quirked in an annoying smirk. Bucky sat with a similar expression; at least you knew he had brushed up on modern sex.

“They’re vibrating panties,” you deadpanned. Steve fortunately didn’t look too surprised, he just raised his eyebrows and nodded.

“What’s next, Buck?” Sam prompted him to continue unpacking.

“Oh -- oh -- oh yeah. We can have some fun with this,” Bucky laughed as he lifted up the collar and ball gag.

“Damn, [Y/N]. You’re a freaky freak,” Sam laughed. Bucky didn’t even deny this; he just laughed with his friend before continuing with the last items.

“And…” Bucky started to explain. He quickly cut himself off when he saw what was in his hands -- and covering the bottom of the package. Dozens of pieces of lingerie, from skimpy little lace pieces to a loose-fitting satin teddy to a sheer black robe. “Oh, that’s for my eyes only,” he finally said.

Sam and Steve grumbled in response but didn’t push it. They probably realized getting a full reveal of the shit you and Bucky wanted to mess around with was more than they would’ve gotten if you had your way.

And just as you hoped, Bucky took you to your bedroom for a few hours. You found out you didn’t love the plug and the ball gag made you drool, but the collar had a little leash Bucky was able to pull on while hitting it from the back... you liked that one.

From that day on, you made sure to tell the boys when you’d have a package coming in. Bucky definitely perked up at the mention of more mail like that coming his way.

•

Two weeks after the Romantix debacle, Peter was back in town and stoked to help you go through mail again. He didn’t like all the creepy letters, but he was really good at making you laugh at them instead of constantly cringing and gagging. Bucky and Steve even sat to help, but Sam said if he was going to keep cooking for everyone, he didn’t have to sort through mail. And none of you wanted to pass up on his classic New Orleans recipes.

You all sat around your dining room table with your small dining TV playing old episodes of “Criminal Minds” as background noise. The amount of mail you received definitely dropped with time, but you’d still have a hefty pile at the end of the week. The creepy letters were shredded but you liked responding to the nicer letters, so there was a “shred” pile and a “respond” pile on either side of the “open next” pile.

You were all working in near-silence aside from the quiet dialogue on the TV and the occasional clink of pans from Sam in the kitchen. With four of you working, you’d be able to read through everything in about half an hour. As you neared the bottom of the pile, you grabbed a large manilla envelope and felt the weight of whatever was inside. It couldn’t have been dangerous because the boys scanned everything, but you carefully tugged it open nonetheless. You held it upside down and gently shook out the contents: a letter, a smaller envelope, and a DVD. A few people sent mix CDs or fan videos on DVDs and flash drives, so you were initially excited about this one… until you started reading the letter. The choppy typewriter print quickly turned muddled as your blood froze in your veins.

My darling [Y/N],

Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? No, I don’t think I shall. I’ll cut to the chase instead: I’m the reason the world knows who you are. Guess I’m a little loose-lipped. Oops! But I needed you to know I’m serious somehow. Or else you wouldn’t see this as a true threat.

I know your little secret. I’ve seen more than I originally planned, but you gave me plenty to work with in my free time. You look beautiful while you sleep; you look even more beautiful in the throes of passion. But I’m not looking to have your body.

Unless you get $2,000,000 to your little doorman Matthew to bring to me by the end of the week, the enclosed pictures will make their way to the desk of daddy dearest. And we both know he won’t appreciate seeing who is penetrating his daughter.

And if that $2,000,000 doesn’t find me by the end of next week, the video on the DVD will be released to the world.

I look forward to our next interaction.

Your hands shook as you tore open the envelope to see what pictures this person allegedly had of you. At first, they were just creepy candids of you walking down the street, nothing the paps wouldn’t have. Then they turned into photos of Bucky escorting you through crowds… and then photos of you in your apartment.

You were sleeping in your bed in one. Then standing in your kitchen making breakfast in one of Bucky’s shirts. And then a shirtless Bucky was cradling your face and kissing your forehead.

The next picture was of Bucky standing behind you in the kitchen. His pajama bottoms — the pair you got him for his birthday — were pooled at his feet. One hand was pressing you to the counter, the other was hoisting your leg up to the granite as he drove into you.

“Oh my god,” you whispered, unable to speak. As you frantically flipped through the rest of the photos, your eyes flooded with tears and your breathing grew more erratic, grabbing Bucky’s attention, then Peter’s, then Steve’s.

But their concern meant nothing to you as you processed the images before you.

You on your knees with Bucky’s dick clearly between your lips. Bucky on his knees with his face pressed between your thighs. Your legs wrapped around Bucky’s torso as he moved you on his cock. Bucky’s hand wrapped around your throat as you rode him on the couch.

All the images looked like they were taken through your windows, like someone was somehow standing outside your apartment despite being stories above the ground.

“What’s wrong, doll?” Bucky asked softly. He gently touched your arm, drawing your view from the distressing imagery to his attempted comfort, though it unfortunately did nothing to calm you down. Not this time.

You looked up at him with tear-filled eyes but couldn’t bring yourself to speak. All you could do was shake your head and push the letter to him. You watched his eyes quickly scan the words before reaching for the photos. He didn’t snatch them away from you or even try to take them. He just held his hand out and let you shakily hand them over.

And then you saw the pacific blue of his eyes turn dark and stormy, his jaw clenching as he flipped through the pictures of you — you and him. His breathing grew more and more ragged the more he saw, until he threw the photos to the table with a loud, “Fuck!”

Seconds later, Sam dashed into the room as Steve sifted through the photos. Even Steve grew irritated at the sight. Peter and Sam quickly followed suit, only glimpsing a few pictures before getting the gist of the rest.

The room was silent aside from your quiet sobs. You and Bucky both stared at the disc lying between you until your eyes met. His usually pale blue irises were nearly black.

“I’m scared,” you whimpered. Despite being scared himself — and angry and frustrated and confused — he reached out to pull you into his lap and hold you. Keeping you close always made him feel better, even when it felt like the world was crashing around him.

“Close the curtains,” he demanded gruffly. Steve and Peter immediately jumped up and started pulling all your curtains shut, throwing your usually bright apartment into near darkness.

Bucky held your face between his palms, forcing you to look in his eyes.

“I know you’re scared, but we need to see what’s on that DVD.”

“I can already guess what it is,” you said through your tears.

“Yeah, me too,” Bucky agreed. “But we have to make sure.”

You simply nodded. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your forehead, helping your breathing slow at the reassuring gesture. He led you into the living room with the DVD in hand. Steve and Sam stood in the living room, Peter sat on the couch. They all looked concerned for you, but tried not to show pity. You could tell they were all upset about this too.

“You can leave the room if you don’t want to see what I’m sure we all know is on this,” Bucky said. His voice was deep and gravelly, almost like his morning voice, but… mean.

You and Bucky sat together on the sofa across from Peter, all eyes trained on the TV as the screen faded from black to a slightly fuzzy shot of your bed. Seconds later, you and Bucky came on screen. And there was audio.

You giggled as Bucky’s body pushed yours to the mattress. “What are you gonna do to me?” your voice sounded.

“I’m gonna put a baby in you,” Bucky’s voice growled. “I’m gonna cum inside this tight pussy until you can’t take it anymore.”

“Jesus,” Sam grumbled. You would’ve laughed if the situation wasn’t so serious.

Bucky only let it play until clothes started coming off. That’s when he knew they actually had a sex tape of you two, especially considering the nearly two-hour time frame on it. Sending explicit pictures of you and Bucky to your dad was one thing, but releasing a non-consensual sex tape of you two was something else entirely.

“What are we gonna do?” Peter asked quietly. Your tears had finally stopped, but the concern in his voice almost sent you over the edge again. He was such a sweet kid and he didn’t deserve to deal with the stress of this with you. But you also knew he was your best friend — practically a brother — and he wasn’t going to let you fend for yourself through this, even with Bucky by your side.

“We have to give them the money,” Sam replied. “We can find out who the door guy gives it to and arrest them or track the bills, but we have to get the money.”

“I don’t have the money,” you confessed. Everyone except Bucky seemed surprised. “I make $200,000 before taxes. Before I got this new role, I made half that. Even if we don’t deduct taxes and the expenses I do pay for, I wouldn’t have even close to two million.”

Everyone went silent again until Steve finally spoke up.

“We need to talk to the doorman.”

•

Bucky stormed out of the elevator, rushing ahead of everyone with murder in his eyes. He gripped the front of Matt’s suit and shoved him against the wall, shaking the letter in his face.

“What the fuck is this?” Bucky was seething.

“What?” Matt squeaked. His eyes were wide as saucers. He was clearly not expecting this confrontation. Bucky just shook the letter again to draw the doorman’s attention.

“Wait. You got one too?” Matt asked. Bucky’s grip loosened as he stared at the shorter man in confusion. You instinctively looked at Peter, who looked just as baffled as you. “I-I got a letter like that. In my locker. This morning.”

“Show us,” you demanded. Bucky released him but Matt’s eyes saw the posse of Avengers behind you (save for Peter, who he probably assumed was either a friend or boyfriend — secret identity and all that) and he rushed all of you to the locker room.

It was a small room since there were only a dozen doormen in your building, if that. He opened his locker and revealed a letter that was nearly identical to yours, but with no mentions of his looks and a much different threat.

“They’re threatening arson?!” you nearly shouted. Bucky and Steve read the letter before handing it to Sam and Peter to check out as well.

“They included pictures of my mom and sister,” Matt explained, clearly scared of what might happen to him and his loved ones. “They know where I live and they know who I live with. I-I would’ve taken this to th-the police but I didn’t want to risk it.”

“They have the later date listed for him,” Sam said. “You had one week to get the money or they’d tell Tony, two weeks or they release the tape. Now we have two weeks to save his family.”

Everyone in the room fell silent once again. Eyes fell on you as Peter quietly repeated his earlier question: “What are we gonna do?”

Despite all eyes on you, you turned to Bucky, who continued to study the letter. His jaw flexed as he thought and if this had been any other time, you would’ve kissed the tension away.

“We’re gonna tell Tony.”

#bucky x reader #bucky x stark!reader #bucky barnes x stark!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes series #Bucky smut #Bucky x reader smut #Stark!reader

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spiderman-homecomeme · 5 years

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Cute fluffy prompt: mj acts like she’s not impressed with the whole Spider-Man thing so peter keeps making excuses to show off his powers/strength in front of her

Okay this prompt is so freaking cute and im so sorry this took me forever, but here it is!! I hope you like it!!

Get ready for 1.5k of some good ol’ fashioned fluff

Peter shouldn’t be all that surprised that upon finding out his secret identity as the vigilante known as Spider-Man, Michelle reacts in perhaps the most Michelle-way possible.

She’s indifferent.

Not entirely impressed.

Maybe even a bit annoyed?

Now, it wasn’t as if he’d expected her to just… fawn over him, to sing his praises in her overt adoration of his deeds. He knew it wasn’t like that; MJ wasn’t like that. But… she could’ve at least faked some enthusiasm. A simple, “Wow! That’s cool!” would’ve been much appreciated.

She could have at least tried to reach Ned’s enthusiasm.

Because Peter has literal, actual superpowers for crying out loud.

He can climb walls.

He fights crime.

But nope.

Nothing.

Just the quirk of an eyebrow accompanied by a comically apathetic, “Yeah. And?”

Because of course she already knew.

The double take he’d done at her response may or may not have given him a minor case of whiplash. He’d sputtered, face turning an embarrassing shade of beet red as he scrambled to form coherent, human sentences—something that had become somewhat of a theme in his conversations with MJ.

It’s not as if he needs his ego stroked; honestly, that is the least of his priorities. But… he has this crazy, overwhelming desire for MJ’s seal of approval; hell, just a nod, a smile, or even a thumbs up would do. Some acknowledgement, at least.

He, for some inexplicable reason, wants so badly to just impress her.

And he finds himself caring a lot more about whether or not she’s impressed the more and more he tries.

She doesn’t care when he shows her his lightning fast reflexes; he’s lost count of how many times he’s asked her to throw something at him so he can show off that particular skill.

“Hey, MJ, toss me the remote?”

“Hey, MJ, pass me that can of sprite!”

“Hey, MJ, literally just throw my calc book at me.”

(He also wonders if he should be worried that she’s always willing to chuck something at his face every time he asks, without hesitation.)

She couldn’t care less when he hangs from the ceiling by a single thread—okay, it’s maybe more than that, but still—when they’re studying in her room one day, his face scrunched in concentration as he reads Great Expectations from his position.

He can feel her eyes on him, stare calculating as she watches him with a mix of judgement and confusion. An expression that wordlessly asks, “What the absolute fuck are you doing?”

“What?” As innocent as he can act in a situation like this, Peter shrugs, feigning ignorance. “It’s more comfortable.”

She scoffs.

She’s even more unimpressed, maybe even borderline annoyed, when he shows off just how agile he is by literally backflipping onto the couch during a movie night with her and Ned like he’s some kind of Olympic gymnast.

Peter’s smile is triumphant as he lands, feeling pretty damn good about himself, eyes not-so-subtly glancing over to MJ, trying to gauge her reaction.

“Was that necessary?” she asks, tilting her head in miffed bewilderment.

Okay, maybe she had a point.

Even Ned, who was arguably Spider-Man’s number one fan, seems to think the overt display of gymnastics is a bit much.

And that’s saying something.

Peter’s strength doesn’t really do much for her either, or at least he’s pretty sure it doesn’t. He can lift around ten tons,—but who’s counting, really?— stop a bus with his bare hands. He’s stopped the Winter Soldier’s actual metal arm before.

Come on, even the person with the highest standards in the world would think that was at least a little bit cool.

There may have been a hint of a smile, a faint sense of admiration and approval when he lifts up the school lockers with incredible ease, snatching the spare jar of web fluid, making sure to twirl it a couple of times for good measure.

“Wow,” she says, almost breathlessly, with a hint of… What is that?… Wonder? Reverence?

“Way to damage school property, Spidey.”

And like that, he deflates.

He brings out the big guns when he offers her a ride—or, a swing, if you will—when she’s running late to her after school job at one of the local bookstores. She agrees, but only after nearly rolling her eyes out of her head.

To this day, he can still feel the way the butterflies had nearly erupted in his stomach as she’d wrapped her arms around his neck, her body pressed against his as he’d gripped her waist, holding her steady; the way her breath had hitched in her throat as he leapt into the air, the way she’d buried her face in the crook of his neck, the ghost-like touch of her lips less than an inch from his jaw.

He can also still hear the way she’d screamed bloody murder right in his ear the entire swing.

He was pretty sure she might have puked all over him and his suit if it had lasted even a second longer.

Needless to say, Michelle was not impressed.

Not in the slightest.

Really, at this point, Peter begins to think that there was truly no way to please her.

And, slowly but surely, he gets to where he can kind of, sort of accept it.

He’s pretty sure he’ll never get over this whole desire to impress her, but for the time being, maybe he can chill a bit with the showing off.

After all, she’d said it better than he could have.

“Okay, now you’re just embarrassing yourself.”

He nods in silent, albeit a little sheepish, agreement, hands on his hips as he turns his gaze to the ground.

He’d just made one more, one more valiant effort in his quest to get MJ to admit that this whole Spider-Man thing was cool.

Actually offering to take her on patrol with him may have been a mistake.

This sunny Saturday afternoon must have been the day all the criminals in New York decided to take a day off.

And, yeah, it may not have been a good idea in hindsight, with the danger and all that. But give him a break, they were already hanging out… They just happened to change location and he just happened to be wearing his suit.

No big deal.

Plus, he would have never let anything happen to her.

And even with all of that, she’d laughed, actually laughed, and declined, returning to her book as she sat on the park bench.

He knows it’s a fruitless effort, but damn it, he had to give it one last shot.

They’re interrupted when they hear the nearby wailing cry for help of a little girl, and in an instant, Peter’s gone.

As it turns out, the girl’s in no danger at all, but rather, her white kitten—whose name turns out to be Buttons—having got himself caught pretty high up in a tree.

Peter’s heartstrings tug at the way the little girl’s cries fill the air around him. He takes a moment to comfort her, telling her that everything—that Buttons is going to be okay; that he’ll be down before she knows it.

The girl sniffles, wiping at her eyes as she watches Spider-Man climb the tree—slowly, as not to startle the already skittish animal.

It takes minimal effort on his part, getting the frightened kitten down from the tree, but he still treats this as any other deed done as his heroic alter-ego; he handles the small bundle of fluffy white fur carefully as he returns to the ground.

And once again, he’s filled with the same warm, happy feeling he gets when he’s helped someone as the girl hugs the small cat in her arms, her smile practically glowing.

“Thank you, Spider-Man!”

He returns to MJ a moment later, who’s been watching the entire time.

Her face is impassive as he stands in front of her, book forgotten in her lap as she fixes him with a contemplative stare.

He already knows what she’s going to say, how she’s going to react. He’s not set up for disappointment that way.

He can practically hear the words already before she even speaks.

“Nice job, loser.”

Wait. Not those words—

What?

His head snaps up, the white eyes of his suit widening comically as he stares back at her, dumbfounded. “What did you say?”

At that, her lips press together into a thin, very very cute, smile. From what he could tell, there hadn’t been any hint of sarcasm in her tone. Her gaze now makes him feel comfortably uncomfortably warm under all the red and blue spandex.

Okay, he’s probably dreaming.

“I said,” she pauses. “Nice job, loser.”

“Oh,” is all he can muster at first, his voice a little breathless. He coughs, scratching the back of his head, trying to play it cool. “Thanks.”

She nods before quietly returning to her book. “Anytime, dude.”

He’d done it. He’d finally done it. All these days, these weeks, all this time.

And damn it, Peter can’t help but do his best golf fist bump when he’s sure MJ can’t see him, exclaiming a whispered, “yes!” under his breath.

“Please, don’t make me take it back,” she says without even glancing up from her page.

“Ah! Okay, sorry, sorry.”

#spideychelle #petermj #peter parker #michelle jones #peter parker x michelle jones #fic #prompt #fluff #i might start posting all these one shots on ao3 #not all at once ofc but ya knoww #this prompt might be one of my favs #it was so fun to write!!

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thistlesconeslochsandhaggis · 6 years

Text

The Hangover was always a silly movie. Never understood why people would do such stupid things or how they could even find shit like they did in Bangkok.

Well… now I understand.

Bangkok is not your typical city. Old traditions blend with new, rising trends and cultures. You used to be able to tell the difference between a man and woman, but now it’s not so easy. It should be, right?

Nah, some of those dudes pull off being a woman too well. They even pull it off better than some of us women; including me.

Usually, you can tell if it’s a man. You’ve got the square jaw, broad shoulders, big hands, and over compensation of trying to fit in too much. The one’s in Bangkok will make you question though. Some of the ones who are an actual woman look like men.

So how the hell can you tell? Easy… stay away from Thais for the most part unless you know 100%.

Anyways, that’s besides my point at this moment.

Never before would I have thought I’d have a night out in Bangkok. All of the teachers decided to head into the big city to celebrate one of our friend’s birthday. We wanted to party until the cows come home, and we did pretty much that.

Friday seemed to drag on. We weren’t doing anything save for watching kids practice for sports day. It seemed to take forever. We just wanted to get going and hit the road.

Finally, we got to do just that. Everyone seemed to be running late, and Sophie and I were ready to just leave them if they didn’t show up. The bus was set to leave at 5 PM, and if we hit the next one who knows when we would get into Bangkok.

Eventually, we all got together at the bus station and made our way down. It seemed to take forever. In reality, it kind of did…

Here’s the thing, in Thailand these buses seem to only reach a max speed of 60 kph. There are the rare occasions they hit 80 kph, but that’s few and far. For us Americans, that’s about 40 mph (AKA slow as hell!). Texans are used to driving 75 – 85 mph. We’ve got places to go and no time to waste. Thailand doesn’t run like that. They seem to have all the time in the world here.

Since it was Friday, and there was a holiday Monday, everyone was out on the road. What should’ve taken us about 2 1/2 hours ended up taking us 3 1/2.

We were all tired, cramped, hungry, and ready to get going. Energy was quickly slipping away. It didn’t help that earlier that week, and that day, I had the major shits. I was taking Imodium tablets to help me get through the days. I don’t know if it was some kind of food I ate or a bug, but it was not helping me one bit. The entire bus ride I was worried I was going to shit my pants. Then about an hour in I had to pee.

Great, right?

Yeah, the others found out a bit of my bad side. By the time the bus reached the station, I had a headache, my bladder was about to burst, I was hungry, and if I didn’t reach a restroom soon I was going to blow.

When we got off the bus everyone wanted to stand around trying to figure out what to do. I was in no mood to wait, so I started yelling to go and then pushed my way forward and walked fast to that restroom. I felt bad, but the relief I felt when I finally went was worth it. My bladder hurt for the next few hours it was so full.

Next thing we had to tackle were the taxis. We got a couple and headed to the hostel. We lost the guys in the other one, but they eventually found us.

When the taxi dropped us off, the girls and I were a bit confused. We expected to see the hostel in broad view. Peter took us across the street, then started to go down an alley. Bikes, trash, random people, and stray cats covered it. There were puddles of water, people cooking, and it looked as if we were about to head to a brothel. This had to be one of the sketchiest areas I’ve seen since I’ve been in Thailand. We turned down another alley way with a large purple building and saw the sign for the Compound halfway down.

Never would I have thought to find this place there. Surprisingly though, it was quite nice. The staff was friendly and everything seemed pretty clean. I’ve heard staying in hostels were nice, but refused to try it on my own. White girl alone in the big city and staying in a hostel? Not such a good idea. That’s why I was completely glad to go here with a large group.

We took some time to get ready, and then headed out to Khao San Road (about a 10 minute walk). I had a new dress, put on some makeup for once, and was ready! We were all ready to have a few drinks after the week we had.

Everyone was looking at us. We were white people wandering about in Bangkok at night. We stuck out like a sore thumb. One of the other teachers, Alan, made a comment about how I could actually cleaned up nicely. Not something you want to hear all the time…

I wanted to turn to him and tell him how huge of an ass he was or how he wasn’t that good looking either. But, instead, I punched his arm “lightly” and joked with him saying, “you asshole” when I really wanted to say you can shove it up your ass.

I’ll save you some time… I had more people flirting with me that night by far than he did. Karma’s a bit of a bitch.

In Thailand, it’s normally too hot to put on makeup for school every day. You’re up in front of the class yelling, walking around, the humidity clings to you, and you’re sweating a majority of the time. Yeah, I’m not going to put makeup on a whole lot.

Anyways, we were all starving and it took forever for people to figure out what to eat since we all wanted to accommodate each other. All I knew is that once I saw a Burger King I knew what I wanted.

I had not had decent meat since the first day I arrived in Thailand and a good burger sounded amazing. Most fast food places here taste a bit different, but Burger King was pretty close to what we got back home. It hit the spot and the beef was amazing! It was worth the 400 baht. I would gladly pay that again the next time I’m in Bangkok.

Some of the teachers had some Thai food and others got McDonald’s. After eating, we all met up and hit up some of the bars on Khao San Road.

Now let me tell you now, the prices are a bit expensive. They know foreigners are coming in with money. For them it might be cheap, but if you’re living on a Thai paycheck it’s a bit much. A drink can cost anywhere from 80 – 500 baht, sometimes even up to 1000 baht depending on what you get and where you go.

Khao San Road is crowded with people, street vendors, and food. You can try things such as scorpion or crickets, or you can head over to the next stall and pick up a gorgeous dress. Whatever your preference, you’re sure to find something on this road.

The first bar we hit up was the Golf Bar. It’s a great place to start off the night. For about 400 baht you can get a bucket filled with your poison. Since I wasn’t keen on drinking a lot too quickly, I splurged and got a Jack and Coke. For a Texan, this was heaven! I’ve missed good whisky so much. Thailand seems to focus on Scotch whiskies or Hong Tong (blended spirits).

All of us had a good time listening to music, talking, and dancing. We met up with a few other people and had even more fun. There was a Scottish and a Finnish guy. Their accents were wonderful!

As the night continued throngs of people flooded into the bar and crowded the street. Eventually, we ended up dancing, drinking, and smoking outside the bar. Each song struck a cord and we all went crazy.

When you’re out doing things like this, you never have a clue who you’ll meet. In fact, I met another girl from America. She had just moved to Austin when I had just moved out of there. It was such a funny coincidence. What was even funnier was when I learned her name later that night… Sammy. Yeah, who would’ve thought the two people from Texas with the same name and lived in the same spots would be in Bangkok on Khao San Road that night?

It wasn’t long before we were all sweating and the hair went up. To be honest, I don’t know how people can get drunk sometimes with it being so hot in Thailand (that is until I got drunk the next night in Pattaya haha).

We needed to change things up and head into some place cool. The club next door advertised air conditioning, dance floor, and great music.

Count me in! All you had to do was say air conditioning, and I’d be more than happy to pay the cover fee.

The cover fee was about 100 baht, but this included a free drink from the bar, so it kind of paid for itself. The area was great. There was a large Christmas tree and a huge dance floor. People stood up on the stage dancing, green strobe lights echoed through the room, and the atmosphere was alive.

We met up with some of the people from the previous bar and continued our drinking. This place was yet another one where I decided to splurge on a drink. I wasn’t going all out with beers, so I decided to spend a bit more for fewer. I got a Black Russian for about 400 baht and it tasted amazing. It was worth the price for some good liquor. You get tired of drinking beer and cheap stuff after awhile here.

I met up with the Irish guy from before and continued to talk. It was easy to spot he was a player. He was all over the women, and I know how Irish guys can be. They may be sweet, but they’re also smooth talking as I found out in Edinburgh.

At one point, I kept feeling like someone was watching me. Turns out someone was. The Finnish guy from earlier was there. At this point, I knew everyone had enough drinks so I became bold enough to walk over and start a conversation. If all else failed, I could lie and say I was drunk like them even though I had only a few drinks.

We had a few good conversations, but that was about it. To be honest, I had fun flirting with some of the guys. We were all out for a good time and needed a break from hectic work schedules or tiny towns.

At the end of the night, we all headed back to the hostel and hit the sack. I was glad the room was cold, because it was a perfect way to end the night. All snuggled up in a blanket and decent bed.

The next morning, the gang split up. Some of us stayed in Bangkok, others left for home, and Sophie and I headed off to Pattaya.

Before we left, we hit up a good place for some breakfast. It was about a 20 minute walk from the hostel and had food that wasn’t completely Thai. We got our fill of scrambled eggs and toast and Sophie got her bacon (though the bacon wasn’t exactly what she expected). It was definitely not your typical flavor or style. The restaurant was small, but quick and efficient.

It wasn’t long before we got a taxi and hit up the bus station for Pattaya!

One Night in Bangkok The Hangover was always a silly movie. Never understood why people would do such stupid things or how they could even find shit like they did in Bangkok.

#NightLife #Travel #Asia #Bangkok #Blog #Breakfast #Clubs #Drinking #Escape #Food #Food and Drink #Fun #Happy #Hotels and Hostels #Khao San Road #music #Pubs and Bars #Thailand #Thoughts

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