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spidernerdsblog · 1 year

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flexible

A/N : another blurb inspired by a prank video. Hope you like this. Let me know what you think.

Summary : you prank your boyfriend by putting him in the positions he puts you in during sex.

Pairing : Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings : mature content

You were hanging out at Peter’s dorm room, sitting on the couch and scrolling through your social media accounts.

“Hey whatcha doing?” Peter asks, walking into the living room. You look up from your phone.

“Nothing, just watching this tiktok on some special yoga poses. Apparently only women can do these very easily.” It was a lie in the video the girlfriend was pranking her boyfriend by putting him in the positions he puts her in during sex.

“That’s rubbish, it just depends on your body’s flexibility.” Peter says.

“You think you’re flexible enough to do these?” a mischievous smirk plays on your lips as you raise an eyebrow baiting him.

“Babe look who you’re talking to. I’m spiderman, I'm flexible AF.” He states placing his hands on his hips with an air of confidence

Oh this is gonna be fun you thought, putting away your phone and standing up from the couch. “Ok let’s see how flexible you are.”

“Yeah, let's do it!” He says excitedly pumping his fist in the air.

“For the first pose you need to lie down on your back.” You instruct as Peter goes to lie down on the floor.

“Now bring your legs up” you tell him and he follows by lifting his legs up. “Yeah, just like that. Now spread them wide all the way”

“Like this?” He spreads his legs wide.

“Yeah and then grab the back of your thighs and pull up.” Holding by the thighs Peter pulls his legs up to his chest and you bite your lip to hide a smile.

“Do you feel it?” You ask.

“Kinda.” He replies.

God he’s so innocent you thought laughing silently to yourself deciding to carry on with the next position.

“For the next pose, turn on your side and bend your knees.” Peter follows your directions and turns on his left side. “Now lift the top leg up.”

He lifts his right leg up as you hum in approval. “Yeah, as high as you can.”

“Ooh I can feel this!” He tells and you purse your lips to keep the giggle from slipping out of you.

“Good now stand up.”

“This one is a bit rough, it's called the bunny hop. So you gotta squat down to your feet.” You explain as he squats down.

“Yeah great, now jump up and down.” Peter starts to hop on his feet. “No, no your feet should be on the ground just move your hips” he does as told and you swear to god watching him do that sent you on the verge of losing all control and laughing out like a maniac.

You quickly schooled your features and said. “Ok so for the last one get on the couch on your knees. Grab on the backrest.”

Peter gets on the couch kneeling and holds onto the backrest as you lift his left leg.

“Now lift this leg up and stick your ass out.” Just then Harry decides to stroll into the living room.

“Looking great Parker.” He opens the refrigerator to grab a beer bottle. “You guys taking a trip to the wild side? Should have asked me would’ve been happy to help.” He says while opening the bottle. Understanding finally dawned upon Peter as he jumped out of the couch with a mortified expression and you burst out laughing.

“Oh my god Y/N! You’re such an evil.” He cried out as he thought of all the sex positions you made him do.

“You don’t have a problem when you put me in those positions.” You tease both of your faces red yours from laughing too hard, his from embarrassment as he stomped back to his room.

“Always wanted to peg that ass.” Harry says, eyes focused at the open door of Peter’s room.

“Shut up Harry!” Peter yells from his room. Chuckling Harry takes a sip of his beer and saunters off to stand beside you, handing you another bottle.

“Pussy.” He mumbles and turns to you with a sultry look. “The offer still stands, you know. Just like I said before you’re welcome to watch…” he eyes you up and down. “Or join.”

Your lips curl into a smirk as you regard him with narrowed eyes. There have been quite a few times where Harry had openly admitted he’s attracted to both of you suggesting you guys should try doing threesome. “I’ll give it a thought.” You say clinking your bottle to his and take a sip.

#peter parker #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader #peter parker fluff #peter parker blurb #peter parker fanfiction #tasm peter parker #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter smut #tasm!peter x reader #andrew garfield #andrew garfield x reader #andrew garfield smut #spiderman fanfiction #peter parker x you #harry osborn #spiderman

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toytle · 1 year

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shoutout to my friend for sending me a lego reenactment of gwen stacy’s death the second i told them i finished tasm 2

#peter parker #harry osborn #gwen stacy #andrew garfield #the amazing spider man #tasm #tasm 2 #spider man #marvel #danart #alt text #described #i cried over the dumbest parts but didn’t even shed a tear over gwen’s death #i’m sorry man but it was LITERALLY max’s birthday!!! i’m GOING to cry abt it!!!#also surprisingly rly liked harry even if he’s nothing like his comic counterpart #made a playlist for him and everything… strange behavior…

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side-shuffling-hyperfixations · 1 year

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Spider-Man + Onion headlines because I was bored ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#marvel #spider man #raimi spider man #mcu #the amazing spider man #onion headlines #peter parker #peter two #peter three #tom holland #tobey maguire #andrew garfield #flash thompson #j jonah jameson #norman osborn #harry osborn #gwen stacy #aunt may #long post

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backtothefanfiction · 5 months

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Crushed | Peter x Reader x Harry imagine

Summary: Your boyfriend sometimes has anger problems, but this is the first time he’s ever taken it out on you. Thank the lord his best friend was there to step in.

Warnings: angst, jealousy, unintentionally angry abusive boyfriend (it’s Harry’s illness), protective friend, needle, strangling, a little bit of infidelity (it’s just one kiss)

Word Count: Maybe 1.5k-ish (wrote in app and can’t really check. Was supposed to be a quick on but…)

A/N: this is an apology story as my other longer stories still aren’t ready yet. I needed some angst and this idea just popped into my head, soooo, let’s go.

To say your boyfriend had a bit of a temper was an understatement. It was something he got from his father along with his rich kid entitlement. He wasn’t always like this. He was usually nice. He took great pride in having bagged you for a girlfriend and loved showing you off to people. However he wasn’t stupid. He knew how people looked at you when they thought he wasn’t looking.

Jealous. Your boyfriend was easily jealous. He’d catch guys looking and would be quick to remind them who you belonged to. An angry stare here, smashed glass and punch in the face there, but he’d never taken it out on you.

That was until his father died. Suddenly Harry had even more feelings than he knew how to deal with. Often multiple feelings at the same time. That and the fact he was dying. You weren’t supposed to know, but you’d overheard him talking to Peter about it. He’d been coming around a lot more since Norman had died. He was an old friend from when Harry was a kid. You thought it was good for him, he seemed a little more at ease despite the doom and gloom. You got on well with him too. He was kind and easy to talk to. He seemed to be the only guy Harry didn’t seem threatened by around you. That was until tonight.

You had all gone out for dinner. Harry had seemed off for the whole meal but you thought it was just because of his illness. Heck, maybe his anger was just another part of his illness. He was quiet and logical, all the way through the meal. He often looked between Peter and you as you spoke so easily to one another. You seemed to laugh at every single one of his jokes and Harry could have sworn he saw a particular warmth and sparkle to your eyes.

He was silent the whole cab ride home and kept shrugging you off whenever you asked him what the matter was, his fingers flexing over his knees. When Peter asked the same question he just ignored you both and looked out the window.

You had both said goodnight to Peter when you had gotten out of the car.

“You gonna be okay?” Peter quietly asked you as Harry began to make his way to the front door of the building.

“Yeah, of course.” You nodded. “Good night Peter.” You smiled before quickly following after your boyfriend.

Being in the elevator with Harry felt like being in a pressure cooker, the higher the elevator got to the penthouse, the more tight and constricting the air felt; until you reached the top and he seemingly began to explode.

You watched on as he made a beeline to his Fathers alcohol, knocking back shot of whisky after shot of whisky and shouting about Peter.

“I saw the way he looked at you…. And when he touched you….” He ranted jealously as he paced back and forth across the floor as you sat frozen on the sofa.

You watched as the veins in his neck began to bulge slowly turning a darker shade of green. He was beginning to scare you.

“Harry, maybe I should go home.” You tentatively said standing, grabbing your coat off the arm of the sofa where you had placed it and folding it over your arm.

It was like he fully remembered you were in the room. And not in a good way. His eyes were completely black as they locked onto you. “And you,” he snarled, “you like him back don’t you sweetheart. The way you giggle at his jokes and fix his clothes and-“

“Harry. Harry stop. You’re scaring me.” You tried to say as you stumbled backwards towards the door. You were trying to not make sudden movements, trying to keep your energy calm and placate him long enough to get out the door but it was no good. Harry was gone.

Your back hit a large pillar and he was on you in seconds, his hand around your throat as he began to squeeze. “Harry!” You tried to say but it was difficult with how tightly he was squeezing. You couldn’t breath, you began to make choking noises as your finger nails reached to claw at the back of his hand. “Harry.” Your voice was high pitched and raspy. “I don’t… please.”

There was a loud thud as the front door burst open, Peter rushing in and tackling Harry to the ground. You gasped as oxygen flooded your lungs and your legs gave way, your body collapsing into a heap on the floor. Tears pricked your eyes as your chest heaved, panicked coughs wracking your body. Your vision was patchy as you tried to watch Peter and Harry, wrestling on the ground.

“Harry! Harry!” Peter said as he pinned his friend to the floor. “Harry, look at me! This isn’t you! Stop it,” Harry just kept fighting though, his body writhing underneath Peter’s, but Peter didn’t budge.

“Get off me! I hate you! You’re fucking my girlfriend!”

“Harry!”

“Get off me!”

“Harry this isn’t you. I wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t do that. Harry!”

Harry’s wails were animal like.

You knew you had to do something to help. You remembered the medicine Harry was secretly keeping in his desk drawer. Your legs felt wobbly as you tried to stand, hobbling into his office in the next room. Your fingers were frantic as you opened the desk drawer and took out a vile and fresh needle. You rested your weight against the desk as you readied the shot.

“Peter. Here use this,” you said almost defeated as you made your way back into the other room.

You had no idea how Peter was able to hold down the still thrashing Harry and take the needle from you with such steady hands. Peter wasted no time in pushing the needle into one of the bulging veins in Harry’s neck, quickly administering the medicine that began to take immediate effect. Harry’s body went limp as he calmed, his eyes closing as if he was relishing in the relief. The veins in his neck seemed to settle and the green track marks began to recede.

Peter’s body collapsed to one side on the floor, removing his weight from Harry’s body. When it was evident Harry was out for the count and sleeping off his episode, the brown haired boy finally turned to you.

“Are you okay?” He asked, scrambling across the floor to where you too had collapsed, adrenaline beginning to dissipate.

You groaned slightly as you blinked away your tears and rubbed at the ghostly feeling of Harry’s fingers at your neck. “Ow.” You said hoarsely as Peter’s hands reached out and tilted your chin up and turned you in the light to get a better look at your neck.

“Yeah, that’s gonna leave a mark.” He said.

“I thought you went home.” You croaked.

“Don’t try and talk.” He said. “Come on.” He reached out for your hands and pulled you up off the floor, walking you towards the kitchen where he sat you on one of the stools. He grabbed you a glass of water and told you to take small sips while he put Harry to bed.

“Is he gonna be okay?” You asked when he came back into the room.

“I thought I told you not to try and talk.”

You simply shot him a look in response.

“He’s gonna be fine. Well, he’ll make it through the night anyway.” Implying that although Harry was alive now, Peter might just kill him himself tomorrow for what he had just done to you.

You couldn’t help but look at Peter differently then. He’d saved your life. Harry was about to strangle you to death and he’d saved your life. “Peter?”

He raised his eyebrows at you in a way that said ‘what did I tell you about trying to talk?’ But you ignored him.

“Thank you.” You said, settling for a whisper.

He gave you a small smile. “Come on. Let’s get you to a doctor and get that throat looked at.”

You quickly shook your head no, but instantly regretted it, wincing as your throat protested against the movement. “No Doctor. They’ll report it. I don’t want him getting in trouble.” You tried to say, but your voice became more strained as you tried to get the words out.

“Fine. Fine.” Peter said, raising his arms in front of you in a calming manor, trying to ease the rising panic in your eyes. “Okay. But I am taking you home. And I’m never leaving you on your own with him again.”

“Peter, what he said about-“

Peter shook his head cutting you off. “Not now.”

He wrapped his arm around you as he guided you back through the apartment. He grabbed your coat off of the floor and placed it over your shoulders, before he placed a protective hand to your back once more and lead you out the door.

******

When you got back to your parents apartment, Peter took you all the way up to the door. Your hand froze on the door handle, key halfway to the lock when you turned back to him with tears in your eyes. The reality of the night was finally sinking in. You worried at your lip before you asked, “Will you stay?”

“I uh,” he stammered, “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I mean, what would Harry say?”

“Peter please. I don’t care… I’m scared.” Your voice said vulnerably. “Please.”

His hand reached out to cup your cheek. His thumb smoothing away the tear that rolled down it. “I can’t. I wish I could but I can’t.”

“Because of Harry’s jealousy?”

“Because he’s right.”

His words stun you. They put a stop to your tears as curiosity forms inside you instead. You try to speak but he stops you.

“He’s right to be jealous.”

“Why?” Your voice is a barely audible whisper.

“Because I’m falling for you.”

You’re not sure why you do it. Maybe it’s the shock of everything. Maybe it’s because he saved your life and you feel like you owe him. Maybe it’s because you really did have feelings for him too. But you lean forward and kiss him. It’s short and sweet. Delicate.

His hand hovers at the side of your face. You know he wants more. And if it wasn’t for Harry, if it wasn’t for everything that had just happened he’d take more. But he fights it. And so do you.

You know you shouldn’t ask again, not after you just kissed him, but you are more scared to be alone right now than not say it. “Please stay. I promise I won’t do that again. Just, please don’t leave me on my own.”

He hasn’t got the heart to say no to you again. He simply gives a small nod, his hand indicating for you to open the door, a silent promise that he’d follow.

You both agreed he’d sleep on the cushioned bench under your window. You had gotten him a blanket and pillow before you crawled into bed. You both just stayed there in your positions across the room, staring at each other, you lying down, him just sat, his back leaning against the wall next to the window.

You didn’t know when you had eventually fallen asleep, but when you woke up, Peter was gone and the window had been left slightly open. Your neck felt stiff and all you wanted to do was roll over and forget everything had happened. Everything except for that kiss.

As your lips tingled and a fuzzy feeling settled into the pit of your stomach, you knew one thing for sure. Your boyfriend was a dick and you were definitely crushing on his best friend.

#peter parker x reader #Harry Osborn x reader #Harry x reader x Peter #best friends girl #angst #drama #tasm!peter parker imagine #tasm peter parker x reader #the amazing Spider-Man #andrew!peter imagine #Harry Osborn imagine #one shot #andrew!peter parker #peter parker #peter parker imagine #spider-man #tasm!peter parker #tasm

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thespleenman · 11 months

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im so glad that everyone in the world collectively decided that andrew garfields spider-man is not only a bisexual disaster; he is the one in the spideypool dynamic. Because.. real. Tobey spidey gets harry or mj or whoever else. tom hollands spidey just gets to suffer alone forever (or harley keener, if you feel like that) its just. so perfect. i’m glad to have experienced three different spider-men in my life <3

#spiderman #peter parker #andrew garfield #tom holland #tobey maguire #spideypool #parkner #whatever the fuck harry and peters ship name is i cannot remember at all #deadpool #harry osborn #anyway please dont judge this i am SOO eepy okay i am not making sense because i need an EEP. A NAP. A SMALL SLEP.

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chiapetkinnie · 10 months

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Mine

Warnings- unedited, unprotected sex, creampie, possessiveness and obsession. No use of Y/N, Peter kinda forces himself into reader.

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Peter couldn’t take it anymore. How all these guys in your life treated you, and how you just let them. But he loved how you would run to him and cry in his arms. He loved how vulnerable you got around him.

He hated how much he loved you. The way you would get all flustered when someone would compliment you in the slightest bit. Or when his hands would brush against yours. He knew everything about you. He always watched you. No matter what you were doing. He made sure you were okay. How you would call him in the middle of the night to rant about something, and how you would sneak into his house to cuddle because you couldn’t fall asleep.

Peter loved everything about you. He had a whole shrine , a collection of you. Photos he took from his camera. You were beautiful. So beautiful you caught the attention of many guys. And he hated that. He wanted you all to himself. But it seemed that day would never come . His so called best friend got to you first. Peter tried to confess to you countless times, but he always chickened out. So Harry took it as an opportunity to steal you from him. Harry was handsome, rich, funny, no doubt you would say yes to when he asked you out. It also helped that you have been friends since forever.

He hated your relationship with Harry, at first it was sweet, he loved hearing you rant about little things in your relationship and how happy you were. But things started to take a turn. Harry started being an ass, you would run to Peter and cry to him about all the things Harry did, all the things he would say and do that mad you angry. Peter loved it , he loved how your relationship was terrible and he would add in how terrible Harry was and how you should break up with him. But you never would, you cared too much, you always do.

But this, this was Peter’s last straw. Harry was cheating on you with some hot blonde from Italy.

Of course Peter knew, but he didn’t wanna tell you himself, he wanted you to find out and come crawling to him.

“Peter”, you cried out knocking on his window.

Peter quickly let you in and you clung to his chest and cried. “Hey , hey what’s wrong?” He asked hoping his prayers have been answered. “Harry and I broke up.” Peter wipes your tears , “Why you guys were so Happy” He silently smiled. “Apparently not happy enough for him, he cheated on me” You smiled through the tears. “I walked into his room for our Friday night movie dates like we do every week, I brought snacks and everything, and there he was and some blonde chick on top of him,” You wipe your tears look up at Peter. “Did you know about this,” You ask him. Peter shakes his head, “Of course not, I had no idea about any of this, you guys seemed so happy.” He lifts up your chin. “I’ll tell you what, we can have your movie date here okay, just me and you.” Peter smiles.

You and Peter lay on the bed in each other’s arms watching a movie. Peters sits up and calls out your name. You turn towards him. “I just, there’s something I’ve needed to say to you for a while.” You tilt your head curiously , “Okay well, spit it out ”. Peter takes a deep breath, he was finally gonna do it, “ We’ve been friends for like ever, and I need to say that , Well I love you” You smile at him, “ I love you too Peter.” Peter shakes his head, “ No not like that, you don’t love me the way I love you,” he gets closer to you. “Oh” you whisper as he grips your thigh pulling you closer to him, if any closer your lips would touch. “ I just couldn’t stand all these years of all these guys not treating you right, you know I was gonna confess to you but Harry stole you from me. I’m sick and tired of not being able to have you , not being able to love you.” You blink in shock, he leans in to kiss you but you back away.

“ Peter, I just broke up with my boyfriend, who is your best friend, and you try to make a move on me.” You spoke in disbelief. “ I know but-“ Peter tried to say, “ No Peter, I can’t do this with you, not to Harry, not today.” You shook your head. Peter furrowed his brows, “ But he cheated on you, please, I just wanna make you feel good.” He pulls you back towards him and flips himself on top. He leans down and presses soft kisses to your neck. “ Just let me show you how good I can make you feel, how much I love you” He whispers in your ear. “Peter,” you whisper. He locks his lips onto yours. He caresses your face and deepens the kiss, “Please” he pleads. You look up at him and eventually nod your head yes.

Peter smiles and places his lips onto yours, his hands gently moving around your body. He makes his way down to the waist band of your shorts and slips his hand underneath and starts circling your clit. You gasp at his touch. Peter moved his hand down to your entrance and started pumping his fingers in. You let out a soft moan as Peter starts kissing and biting your neck. “ So pretty ,” He says , picking up some speed in his fingers. You try to hold on your moans. Peter pulls his fingers away and grabs your face. “ Don’t hold back your moans baby, I wanna hear you” you nod your head as a response.

You look up at him as he takes unbuckles his pants and takes out his length. Your mouth agape and he smirks. He brushes his thumb over your lips as he pushes himself into your core. Moans escaping both of your mouths from the feeling. He looks you in the eye waiting for your approval to move and you smile. He begins to thrust in and out. Heavy breaths and grunts escape from his mouth. You don’t hold back your moans of pleasure as he lifts up your waist fucking you deeper. You moan out searching for something to grab on. “ Fuck Baby, you feel so good, My sweet girl” he praises. He drops his hands from your waist. “ Turn around” he says . And you do so. His hands roam your body and he slaps your ass. He places a hand on your ass and rubs his dick on your entrance. “ My pretty girl” he says as he slips back inside.

The sound your skin slapping together fills the room.

You grip the bed sheets as he pushes your head down into the pillow. Moans escaping from your lips and praises from his. “My gorgeous girl, your doing so good for me, taking me so well”. Tears form in your eyes from how hard he’s thrusting, “ Harry never fucked you like this, he never loved you like this.” Peter yanked your head back and gripped your chin. “ Harry never made you feel good like this huh.” You shake your head and try to get the words out but you can’t .

Peter's hand makes it’s way back to your clit as he pounds into you. You smile in pleasure and moan as he circles around one more time, releasing your orgasm.

Peter smiled. He had finally won. He was the one. Making you cum, he was the one with his dick deep inside you making you moan like crazy. He was the one watching the way your ass bounced against his dick. He leaned his head back as he came inside and pulled out. Watching his seed drip out.

And he was the one who got to fill you up. He had won.

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spider-stark · 1 year

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A DARK AGE - PREVIEW

a tasm fan fiction // coming june 2023 // click here to read notes

“Spider-Man’s not a murderer.” You weren’t entirely sure who you were attempting to convince with the statement; Jameson or yourself.

Jameson’s shoulders lifted into a lazy shrug, leaning back in the rickety chair. You knew his opinion on Spider-Man, knew his stance on the matter. Still, even he knew that Spider-Man had never crossed that line before. “No, he isn’t.” He agreed with you. “But he’s about to be. He’s the only one that can be linked to the crime scene. If Sytsevich dies—and it’s only a matter of time—then Spider-Man’s the one who goes down for it.”

Your mind was reeling, gaze falling to the floor. Coffee still leaked from your cup, causing the already prominent stain to grow in size, but you didn’t care.

New York had already begun to turn on Spider-Man. The city that he had saved time and time again had grown to hate him, unable to forgive him for abandoning them entirely, for leaving them to wonder if their beloved hero was even still alive. And to come back like this? To come back a murderer?

“It’ll turn into a man-hunt.”

There was no other outcome for it, both of you knew that much. There was already an eerie sense of unrest that had settled amongst the city in Spider-Man’s absence; and if it was confirmed that their former symbol of hope had abandoned his own code of ethics? The world would turn to nothing but chaos.

It would be the dawn of a new age.

A dark age.

bonus teaser scene - peter parker dialogue from A Dark Age

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broadwayfan92 · 2 years

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The MCU is just giving fans what we want.

#mcu #spider man: no way home #tobey maguire #andrew garfield #tom holland #peter parker #willem dafoe #norman osborn #green goblin #alfred molina #doc ock #jamie foxx #electro #maxwell dillon #deadpool 3 #ryan reynolds #deadpool #hugh jackman #wolverine

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moon-fics · 6 months

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The Lime Light (prologue)

A/n: I had to reupload this bc I messed up some editing but now it's up for good!

Summary: After disappearing from the spotlight you finally return. However, a rough night and a scandalous paparazzi photo causes you to forge a new PR relationship with the beloved actor, Peter Parker.

Rating: PG 13

The light is too bright in the questionably damp room as your agent's, Elizabeth Allen, voice blurs into the background. Stress drones out all noise from the outside world, filling your ears and mind with tv static. You rub your forehead to ease the unsteady feeling inside, your heart beating louder than a drum.

"So, you'll do it right?" Liz asks, her voice full of hope. You know that you've been letting her down recently, avoiding roles that would boost your audience. "You can't keep turning down roles or they'll stop requesting you," She warns, wagging a finger at you.

If she was anyone else you'd snap at her, telling her you just aren't feeling the role. However, you both know you've been using that excuse for months and she's too sweet of a woman to yell at.

It's a good plot, one that would win awards if done right. A love story with tragedy that isn't expected until the last act. A girl in love with a man with a double life, but she's in love with his secret identity and hates the man behind the mask. It's cliche beyond belief, but almost everything has already been done in Hollywood.

"Have they gotten anyone relevant in the cast?" You ask with a heavy sigh, sitting up straight in the chair. You're now alert and invested in the conversation, at least as much as you can be. "I mean, I'd rather not work with a cast full of new faces," It's a harsh thing to say, especially since you started out in the same spot as them.

Liz nods, a burst of energy coming through her, “So you’re actually interested?” She squeaks as you nod in hopes it’ll satisfy her. It's the first time in a while you've shown interest in any gig she's gotten you, which to her, is a huge deal. She quickly shuffles through a file which you can see contains an out of order script.

"Here we go," She hums, placing a paper with a list of names on it. You hesitantly reach for it, sliding it off her wooden desk. It's covered in scratches from her pen pressing too hard on paper, a few coffee stains as well. You smooth out the paper, starting on the first name.

Felicia Hardy is the first name you recognize and you're surprised she isn't the lead. Instead she's stuck as the supporting actress who eventually dies off to progress the plot. From what you've heard about her, she'll throw a stink about it but eventually agree to her character's fate.

Your eyes scan over names of actors you've neither met nor heard of. You're relieved when you finally land on Harry Osborn but it's gone when you see a question mark drawn next to his name. That could mean many things but the two most likely is that he either hasn't decided or the casting director is still looking.

"Is Harry still dropping roles after what happened?" You ask, glancing up from the paper. You should know the answer, you should be asking Harry himself. But after witnessing something as gruesome as his incident, you couldn’t bring yourself to call him once he was discharged. Liz is no longer sitting in front of you, instead she's organizing her desk. She's nervous, why wouldn't she be?

"From what I've heard from his agent," You forget that she has connections, that she's no longer a young woman struggling to keep actors. Just like how you're no longer a child sitting in a chair you can't fit in; your mother making sure you can't speak for yourself. Her words still echo in your mind telling you to cry on que and to never get close to your co-stars. "He's debating giving up acting entirely." She shrugs, tightening her bun.

The news doesn't surprise you in the slightest, what happened was traumatizing. Even though you had only watched what happened you still have flashes of broken bone and blood on an expensive set. Even now you cringe at the thought.

"I know you get along with Harry and I really think he might accept the role!" She cheers up, placing her hand on her desk. You wait for an explanation, already knowing she'll tell you without a prompt. "His best friend, Peter Parker, is the lead role." She squeals.

Liz is a huge fan of Peter Parker and often laments about how she regrets not signing him to her company,at the time she thought he was a one shot wonder. He's a brilliant actor who has a great streak in the industry and a huge following of fan girls. Somehow every movie he's been in has been a hit, something an actor can only dream of.

As much as you want to continue to pretend like you aren't known by millions, you have to suck it up. You can already feel the all nighters and coffee on your breath. As the buzzing in your mind slowly begins you hold out your hand.

"Hand me the script."

- - -

You stare at the boy in front of you, at least a year older maybe two if you’re generous. You’re examining him from afar, imagining how he looks at every angle just so you can get a feel for him. You’ve never worked with a boy around your age, not in such a serious role like this.

His hair is well kept and he never leaves his father’s side. A part of you knows he only got this role because his father is directing the movie, I mean, Norman Osborn always gets what he wants. So why wouldn’t he want his son to become just as famous as him?

You’re so transfixed on taking note of his every feature you hardly notice your mother approaching you. Your first big role and she’s not letting you out of her sight, she calls it a precaution, but you know she just wants to keep her strings attached to you. Even at the ripe age of thirteen you understand her love is purely based on your achievements.

Eventually, you’re thrusted onto set to practice your lines with the boy… and holy shit you’re nervous. You’re too new to acting to have any fame get into your head but you have no clue how this boy will act and honestly, you’re terrified he’ll get you recasted.

As you approach the set decorated to be a middle class kitchen your hands are sweating. You’re lucky Mr. Osborn has allowed you to hold onto your script or you might forget every line even after the hours of late night practices. Before you know it you’re standing a few feet away from the red, no brown, wait maybe both haired boy.

“I’m Harry,” The boy speaks first, holding out a hand. He isn’t even holding a script, he’s confident he knows his lines which only makes you feel worse. You hesitate to shake his hand, worried he might crush your hand or secretly tell you how out of place you are. “I heard this is your first time in a position like this!” He continues, a genuine and bright smile spreads across his lips.

Finally, you use your voice and take his hand, “I’m Y/n, it’s nice to meet you,” You’re taken aback by how soft his skin is and how he doesn’t insult you for being nervous. Something about him is warm, he’s like a fall candle that you light at night when you can’t focus.

“You shouldn’t be nervous just because my dad is the director. He can’t replace you,” He assures you, placing a hand on your shoulder. You don’t understand what he means, actors get replaced all the time for the simplest reasons. “I specifically chose you to work with and my father won’t risk my career over something as small as forgetting lines!” He gestures to your script, his head tilting to the side. A strand of hair falls out of place and suddenly you’re reminded that he’s not some big shot, he’s a kid same as you.

With a new determination in your chest you give him a solid nod. You feel special, you feel wanted for the first time in a while. Harry chose you to work with out of who knows how many other girls. He must see something in you, something he wants to work with. With a yell of ‘action’ and a snapping sound, the flame between friends is ignited.

#peter parker x reader #spiderman x reader #spiderman x y/n #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #tasm!spiderman x reader #peter parker x fem #andrew garfield x female reader #andrew garfield x you #andrew garfield x reader #andrew garfield #actor!au #Pilot #harry osborn #harry osborn x reader #felicia hardy x reader #felicia hardy #mj x reader

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kenobion · 11 months

Photo

Andrew Garfield as Peter Parker in The Amazing Spider-Man

#look at his wry expression in reaction to the giant sign about norman osborne #andrew garfield #the amazing spiderman #peter parker #my gifs #he's so cute with his big brown eyes #and his pretty hair #I kind of want to steal this outfit too #he really has aged like a fine wine #he drives me crazy but only in the best way #sir I am free anytime

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literaila · 11 months

Text

shoes (part one)

tasm!peter x fem!reader

summary:

“apparently dating your boss is a 'conflict of interest.'"

"i can't imagine why."

warnings: haha, just lots of nothing, harry is there, peter is there, reader is there, rich people stuff, mentions of alcohol, secrets that only i know

a/n: two in one night???? yes. i’ve been sitting on this for like seven years. (cowboy like me).

peter doesn't often pay attention to people's shoes.

he's never been inclined to stare at the ground, or, at least, to stare at the ground and not watch the strange way it seems to rumble beneath him. to watch people walk like he might look up and find them smiling back at him.

no, he doesn't have time to look down and appreciate the scuff marks on someone's nikes. he doesn't want to stare at someone's wingtips and wonder where he can get a pair for himself.

his old tennis shoes are enough comfort for him to ignore the tears in the soles, and the laces are only slightly frayed at the edges. a bit black from years of neglect and errant ideas of buying the exact same pair.

but tonight, standing in this crowded room and listening to people politely chuckle, he's staring at the shoes beneath him.

there are high heels, wingtips, and fancy leather slippers that probably cost more than his rent, and amongst them all, his converse are certainly a conversation starter.

that is, if peter was actually attempting to talk to anyone.

he can hear all of these people speaking about investments, the stock market, and the kids these days that just don't want to work, and all of the rich-people-talk that he doesn't get to hear often. even staring at the floor like he's doing, looking strangely obsessed with feet, he knows whose granddaughter is valedictorian and who plans to become the next state senator.

but he doesn't hear anything necessarily useful.

nothing about strange men growing claws, or people dying in alleyways with no one around. no one's grandson has become a living wart, and no one here cares if another building gets destroyed by some strange--and necessary--experiment.

the shoes are nice, though. he can follow a person around the room just by following their footsteps. he can watch people walk and act like he's not supposed to be here.

because he's really not.

the fact that jameson happened to give him this job--begrudgingly, with a frown on his face and a hang of his head--is a miracle. and a disaster because lucy, whom peter is replacing, is going to pass her stomach bug to the rest of the office, and then peter will receive the grunt work.

but he was going to sneak in anyway. he was going to watch from the ceiling--far enough away for shoes to be a mere blur and people to be anaomlys, rather than annoying. he was going to hide in the dark and maybe steal a couple of appetizers.

instead, he's standing in the middle of the room in his converse, holding his camera like he might actually want to capture some of this.

the egos and complete ignorance of everything important happening in the world. the smell of money and arrogance.

peter is thinking about ditching the party--telling jameson that he puked all over some lady's jimmy choo's--when two pairs of footsteps head toward him, rattling like a drum roll.

high heels and tennis shoes, not unlike his own.

he's staring down at a wonderful pair of jordan's when the approaching subject clears his throat, and a flash of teeth causes peter to finally look up.

and meet wide eyes, staring right back at him.

you're wearing lipstick, bright glitter flashing across cheekbones that didn't need to be defined. you're wearing lipstick and a smirk, like you know that peter's going to get lost staring at you.

which, currently, he is.

but your eyes are grinning at him; they are warning him to run.

and he almost can't look away.

wouldn't, if not for the arm attached to yours, and a familiar voice saying his name.

"peter," the man says, clapping him on the back and pulling his eyes away from a girl that he probably should've noticed an hour ago. "didn't think i'd be seeing you here."

why would he?

harry osborn is giving peter a wide smile, his eyes are reflecting secrets from a childhood peter can't seem to remember currently.

but may pounded enough etiquette into his head for it to remain, even when everything else doesn't.

"good to see you," peter says, hugging harry back and finally paying attention, noting a new haircut that is definitely not helping his childhood friend with anything. "if i'd known you were going to be here, i would've found you hours ago."

harry steps back, straightening his back and looking around. "i'm here in my father's place. he wasn't feeling up to it."

peter swallows. "he alright?"

"just a cold, i'm sure," harry shakes his head, sharing an inside joke with peter that neither of them understands. "what're you doing here? finally hooking up with one of the girls from high school?"

peter bites the inside of his cheek, sharing a short laugh.

did you finally marry a rich girl?

"no," he answers, voice still light, eyes still leaning to his right, where you're still standing. "i'm here for work. taking pictures of the banquet for the daily bugle."

harry nods. "did you get a good one of me?"

"of course not."

when harry laughs, peter laughs with him. he looks down again, feeling weirdly comforted that he's not the only one wearing tennis shoes in a place like this. glad that he can tell jameson he spoke to someone.

he looks up again, shaking his head. and then he turns, clearing his throat. "and you are?"

when he meets your eyes again, there's a new glint. a flash of lightning beneath the clouds. your mouth opens, but harry speaks before you get the chance.

"this is y/n davis. my date."

there's a breath, a flash, and someone pops open a bottle of champagne, but peter manages to keep his full attention on you.

"nice to meet you," you say, a tight smile on your face.

your voice is soft and stern, like peter shouldn't disagree.

he's smiling back, but he's not sure that he can hide the surprise on his face. he's sure that he's seen you somewhere before. sure that he recognizes that look on your face...

"this is her first banquet too," harry adds, pulling you closer. peter can hear your shoes click as you adjust.

"there's a lot of people. not enough alcohol."

peter's lip twitches, and yours does the same.

but harry laughs. "there's an open bar," he whispers to you. "i told you i'd get you a drink whenever you'd like."

you look away from peter and to the other man. "i'm just kidding."

harry scoffs, and peter leans back, looking towards the bar that he'd mentioned. "no, i agree," he says, "i thought you guys were supposed to have waiters walking around with cocktails. i have to walk all the way over there for a beer?"

harry shakes his head. "should've brought a date to do it for you."

peter shifts on his feet. there's a beat of silence, where he remembers what he's supposed to be doing here, and then swallows. "how long do these typically last?"

"it's not polite to leave until ten."

"and if i conveniently left my manners at home tonight?"

you smile at him, leaning forward--enough so that peter gets a whiff of perfume. "i saw a backdoor around the corner that you could escape through."

harry rolls his eyes.

peter pretends to look for the door, already having known where it was. the door he came through--the one he was going to break in through.

"good to know."

"have you taken enough pictures?" harry asks, "i haven't been blinded by any flash yet."

"no one's taking pictures of you," peter says, dryly. "i'm not even sure what jameson wants. i've got a couple of shots of the chandelier, just in case."

"get a picture of senator jenkins laughing with captain stacey and you're golden," you tell him, looking over to the pair.

harry laughs. "or you could get a picture of us, and make it the cover."

peter nods, moving a step back. "good idea." he gestures for the two of you to get closer together, holding his camera up.

he watches as harry wraps his arm around your waist, and as your natural smile turns into something of a performance.

still beautiful, though.

"so, how do you know each other?" peter asks, just as he snaps a shot. he takes another step back, adjusting his settings.

"she worked for me," harry says, putting on his perfect rich-boy smile.

peter raises a brow.

"i was his assistant."

your words are overly enunciated and you sneak a look over to harry, like you're checking to see if he noticed something.

peter snorts. "i'd expect nothing less from you, harry."

"what?" he defends, rolling his eyes. "was i supposed to ignore her?"

he says it like it shouldn't be possible.

peter smiles. takes another shot, not caring how it turns out. he tries to get harry's sneakers and your high heels together.

"and now?" peter continues, letting go of his camera and taking a step toward the two of you, sure that it's time to leave.

"i work for a legal office now. apparently dating your boss is a 'conflict of interest.'"

"i can't imagine why," peter responds, eyes flashing.

you laugh.

and then someone calls harry's name, and peter blinks, looking away from you and over to his friend.

"good to see you, peter. call me sometime, we'll get together." harry offers his hand again like they're making a business deal.

but peter shakes it anyway, nodding.

"it was nice to meet you," he says to you and watches as you and harry walk away, arm in arm.

he listens to two synchronized footsteps, but swears he can hear a stutter in there somewhere. just one moment where something has fallen apart.

and then it's gone, and you look over your shoulder locking eyes with him.

a storm flashing beneath the smile you send his way, gone as soon as it appeared.

when you're out of his sight peter is back to standing in the middle of his room, watching the shoes of people he doesn't care to pay attention to.

my masterlist here.

tags:@moonlarking-blog @v1ci0us @preciousbabypeter @alexxavicry @directioner5life @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @localrockstargf @thestudiouswanderer @take-my-hand-time-boy @thoughtsofagodlovingsunflower @nyomjoon @moo-b1tch @raindropstearsandtea @rqmanoff @hollandweather @wetcoldnoodle @urlocalavenderhazestan @valvlry @imthatcoolmom @spideysimpossiblegirl invisibletrolleyson-jeremy @sharkswaters @rowniebow @anaislfbv @take-my-hand-time-boy @mileyc111 @starsval @ratsys

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poetsofmyheart · 10 months

Text

my tears ricochet

chapter one. masterlist.

PAIRING: tasm!peter parker x fem!reader

WARNINGS: death, vomiting

WORD COUNT: 2,458

NOTES: i have so many ideas for this series i’m so excited. buuut idk how i feel about this chapter. hope u still enjoy tho lol

“all these people think love’s for show, but i would die for you in secret.” - peace, taylor swift

now

it’s still cold in new york this time of year. when i cross the street, i listen to the sounds the bustling city makes. the sound of horns honking and bell chimes reach my ears. during my walk to the cemetery, my fingers begin to feel numb. my mouth creating little clouds of white with every breath i take.

i’m carrying a bouquet of flowers i purchased from the sweet woman who owns the flower shop across from my apartment complex. i hold onto the bouquet tightly. my hands shake from the cold as i readjust the scarf on my neck.

as i walk, i see a flash of red and blue fly by in my peripheral. it’s been a long time since i’ve learned to ignore those flashes.

when i finally reach the cemetery, i look for gwen’s grave and sit on the grass across from her tombstone. i place the flowers by her neatly.

her full name is etched on the tombstone beautifully, along with the words “loving daughter” and her birth and death year underneath it.

the sight make my stomach clench.

“hey, gwen.” i shiver. “i hope you’re doing okay wherever you are.” no matter how many times i visit, i’m always unsure how to start talking.

i’ve been visiting gwen every saturday since her funeral. luckily, i’m alone today. it’s not uncommon for someone to already be here visiting.

“i’m doing okay. i’ve been better.” i reach for a flower petal on the bouquet i picked out for her. it’s a bouquet of daisies. the colors ranging from white, pink, and yellow.

i play with the petal until it’s rips in between my fingers. the shreds falling on to the grass in front of me.

“i’ve been learning the piano piece you begged me to learn for you. i was thinking about playing it for my audition next month.” i continue.

piano is one of my favorite things in the world. it’s my only source of escape. it’s an escape i’ve been busying myself with especially after gwen’s passing.

after graduation last year, i had planned on going to nyu to study music and piano. when gwen died, i had put everything on halt. i decided not to go to nyu after all. i had even passed up on an audition for my dream school, julliard.

before gwen passed, she had begged me to learn a song for her. a song she had been specifically obsessed with. the song was fantasie by chopin. she used to say the song was eccentric, yet calming.

i doubted my piano abilities at the time and had pushed the piece aside until i knew i was really ready. if only i had listened to gwen, maybe she would’ve gotten to hear it herself.

after a few weeks of grieving and being in a terrible slump, having no motivation to play at all, i decided it was time.

i picked up the notes i had discarded in my closet and put them up on my sheet stand and i let my fingers move delicately on their own.

it was hard at first, having not played for weeks. but i eventually got going. my fingers moved deliciously over and against the keys. i got lost in the music. the soft sound of the piano muting the world around me.

it was the best distraction.

this past summer, i was sent a letter from julliard. i had managed to get an audition when i graduated high school. they heard about what happened and decided to give me another audition thats set to take place next month.

“i wish you were here to hear it. i know how much you wanted to hear me play it.” my eyes begin to water. i hug my coat and scarf tighter to myself.

“julliard is giving me another chance and i’m going to play in honor of you.” a few tears fall down my cheeks.

i’m ripping another petal from the bouquet when i hear a voice come from behind me.

“y/n?”

i could recognize that voice anywhere. the voice of a stranger who had once been a friend.

i feel embarrassment arise in my chest. my cheeks blossoming into a shade of crimson, having been caught talking to a slab of stone.

i wipe the tears from my eyes and slowly turn around. my eyes meet the pair of soft, brown ones that belong to peter parker.

“peter?” my voice comes out almost like a whisper. if it weren’t for his heightened senses, he might’ve just barely missed it.

i haven’t seen peter since the night he came to my apartment to tell me the news about gwen.

that was over two years ago.

there never really was a reason as to why we never spoke again. maybe it’s because we really only ever hung out because of gwen, or when he needed to be patched up after a patrol.

not saying he wasn’t my friend. of course he was. but he’d only stick around because of gwen.

it stung.

after gwen’s death, the news about spider-man disappearing had come out. nobody had seen their neighborhood friendly spider-man for weeks. the crime rate in new york had gone up significantly and still, there was no sign of spider-man.

until once he did come back, he had become more violent. the spider-man we once knew had changed.

before the incident at the tower, spider-man wasn’t very known for having killed many people. not until after.

instead of leaving thieves webbed up to the wall like he used to, he would kill them. beat them to death with his bare hands. police no longer found webbed up bad guys. instead, they found dead bodies. no more leaving cute little notes or webbing up mouths shut. that was over.

eventually, spider-man had become the city’s number one enemy. the people of new york no longer felt safe around the masked vigilante. they now felt terror.

i couldn’t blame peter for using spider-man as an outlet. but it also hurt me to see him hurting. not just himself, but also others.

even after everything, i still didn’t have the courage to reach out to him.

because once upon a time, i was in love with peter parker.

i met peter in my sophomore year of high school. i’d see him skateboard from class to class. he’d photograph students for the school yearbook and he was a science nerd. a smart one at that.

so naturally, i had a crush on him. an innocent one at the time. it’s was a normal school girl crush.

i’d see him around but we never really spoke or even exchanged a glance towards each other.

not until gwen.

that same year, gwen met peter.

it was obvious peter was into her. and gwen was into him.

eventually, the three of us started hanging out together. gwen and peter got together and i had officially introduced myself to peter. he was sweet and caring and everything you’d ever want in a guy.

gwen was lucky.

but the more i got to know peter, the more i fell for him.

the first time i patched peter up and he had come to my place instead of gwen’s, i fully believed something happened between the two. maybe she was mad at him, or they’d broken up.

i hated that i had felt some sort of relief at the time.

the guilt gutted me from the inside out. i felt like i was betraying my best friend, stabbing her in the back.

i wanted gwen to be happy, and if peter made her happy, i had to accept he would never be mine. that he’d always be hers. and she’d always be his.

for for the rest of high school, i had to pretend to be happy around them. push my feelings aside so the feelings of others wouldn’t get hurt. i got hurt to make sure gwen was happy.

and in the end, she still ended up getting hurt.

after the night of gwen’s death. the night peter came to me over anyone else, the feelings i tried so hard to push aside came fluttering back. almost like they had never went away.

because they didn’t.

right now, as i look at peter, i can’t help but remember gwen.

see gwen.

he’s all i have left of her.

i can’t ruin it.

i stand up and dust off the dirt on my jeans. i look up at peter, who’s looking at me intently. while he stands there, i scan his outfit for a brief second. he looks the same. the same brown eyes and messy hair. his hair has grown a lot since graduation. he’s wearing a navy blue jacket and a pair of converse. typical peter parker stuff.

“wow.” he says, huffing out a soft laugh. “it’s been a while.”

“yeah.”

peter kicks a few small rocks on the ground, debris flying up. the rocks fall back on to the ground with a thud.

i’ve been trying to avoid this interaction for as long as i can remember. since the second he left my apartment that night.

i don’t know what to say, and neither does he.

“i was swinging by when i saw you walk in here. i thought i’d be nice to talk to you.”

nice?

yeah, right.

“look, peter.” i sigh. “i think it’s better if we don’t… y’know. do this.”

peter frowns. “do what?“

i gesture between us. “this. whatever this is. you don’t have to pretend to want to be my friend. gwen is gone. she won’t torment you if you don’t.” i begin to walk away, but a strong arm keeps me still.

“i’m not pretending.”

it’s quiet for a few moments before a look of realization washes over his face.

“you blame me, don’t you?”

i look down at my shoes.

of course i don’t blame peter.

i’ve never blamed peter for gwen’s death. although, if i’m being completely honest, i was angry at him for a while.

i know it wasn’t his fault. he wanted to save her. he tried to save her.

but that was back then. i was grieving. grief messes you up in ways nobody can describe.

but the only way to keep the feelings i have for him at bay, i have to act like i do.

pretend, pretend, pretend.

i’ve been doing it for long enough. i can handle a little while longer.

he shakes his head, a sign that i’ve hurt him.

“you could’ve told me.” i say, keeping up the facade. this act where i blame peter for the death of my best friend.

peter looks at me again. the sadness in his expression turning confused, but sour. “told you what?”

“that you were taking her out there. to the tower. i could’ve stopped her.”

his expression now becomes angry. “seriously? you think i took her out there on purpose?”

“then why didn’t you at least tell me she was out there? we both knew gwen. she was the most stubborn person on this fucking earth.”

the past tense seems to hit peter hard. “and what? let you die out there as well? there was no way out. if harry was after her, he would’ve been after you too.”

“harry?”

it’s been two whole years since my best friend died and i have yet to find out who murdered her. it was never revealed to the public. not even me. not even her family.

but it was revealed that the person who murdered gwen had apparently been caught.

apparently.

“harry osborn.”

i shake my head. “who the hell is harry osborn?”

“he was my best friend.”

a terrible realization dawns on me. not only did peter lose his girlfriend, but he also lost his best friend that night.

“your best friend killed gwen?”

i hadn’t expected to find this out today. i hadn’t expected to ever find out who killed gwen.

when peter doesn’t answer, my stomach twists and i begin to feel sick. faster than i can process, i run over to a tree and throw up behind it. my breakfast from this morning spilling all over the ground.

a hand coming from behind me pulls my hair away from my face, holding it in a messy ponytail. once i’m finished, i slump against the tree and hold my stomach. breathing in and out.

“are you okay?” peter asks softly. no matter how angry or upset peter might be at someone, he will always make sure they’re okay. no matter on their darkest days or his, he will always be there. it’s one of the things on my ever growing list of things i love about peter parker.

“i just wanna go home.” i avoid his gaze. “please.” tears well in my eyes, but i shake them away before he could see.

“i’ll walk you.”

the walk home is quiet. crickets chirp in the distance and the honking of car horns has gone down for the night. when we finally get close to my apartment, peter simply says, “he was never caught.”

“what?” i stop dead in my tracks and slowly turn to him. the sickness from earlier returns to my body and i use everything in me to hold it in.

“it was never true. they never caught harry. it was only said he was because they didn’t want the city to panic.”

anger floods my body. “why didn’t you tell me?” i huff out a bitter laugh before continuing. “actually, why didn’t you tell me anything? i’m one of the only two people on this planet who knows about your secret identity. well, technically now i’m the only person who knows about your identity.”

my voice is loud in the quiet night, but by the end, it slips into a whisper. “i was her best friend.” i get in his face as i say this. by now, tears are spilling down my cheeks so quickly i hadn’t even rendered i was crying. “don’t you think i have a right to know?”

peter turns away. “i didn’t want you to get hurt.”

“oh great plan, dumbass. i totally don’t seem hurt right now!” i say sarcastically. when my crying slows down, i turn to him and look him straight in the eyes. it almost scares me how close we are.

“were you ever going to tell me?”

peter is silent again.

“great.” i mumble. “goodnight, peter.” i turn on my heel and start walking up to my apartment. not glancing back even for a second.

as i’m walking up to the entrance of my apartment, i hear peter say, “i promise i’ll tell you everything.”

i don’t respond.

instead, i let the door slam shut.

next chapter

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