#when will i be grabbed n ch*ked
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had time to do a strip tease in my car before clocking in to work for my last 12h this weekend ;))
#when will it be my turn#sub thoughts#brain go brrrrrrr#it’s me#omg when#cnc k!nk#me and who#when#when will i be grabbed n ch*ked
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Jealousy [L.G]
Lip Gallagher x Reader
Summary
You and Lip has always been best friends, but the day Lip meet Karen, things changed- for the worst! You never pictured yourself to be the jealous type, but you'd be lying to yourself if you said it didn't hurt seeing your crush fighting for that so called 'family' growing in Karens womb.
Warning! Bad language, Small mention of sexual deeds
Word count: 752
[Angst/High school]
Part 1, Part 2
Shameless Masterlist
Fandom Masterlists
/"Talking"//Thinking//Muttering-Whispering/
***Narrator's Pov***
You and Lip have been best friends for years. Nothing was ever able to get in between you two until one day when he met Karen.
Now you never really liked Karen all that much; however, Lip was fascinated by her, and you never knew why. She was a total bi*ch to almost all the girls in school. She's the type of girl that girls have to look out for in case they want to keep their man. A complete homewrecker. She was also known as the school sl*t.
Karen had a lot of labels, and honestly, she never even cared. Though what conflicted you was the fact that she took an interest in Lip. You knew that those two only met because Karen needed tutoring.
"They probably fu*ked." Said one of your friends.
You were currently walking down to your science lab. Expecting Lip to be in his usual spot. Of course, the teacher didn't assign any assign seats, that is-
When you walked in, you saw Karen- Since when did she take chemistry? You sat down at your usual seat, waiting for Lip, your lab partner.
Eventually, he walked in; of course, he was late as per usual. You moved your bookbag, expecting him to sit down right next to you, but he never came.
You turned your head to see him sitting with the girl you could barely tolerate. Karen Jackson.
Time Skip!~
***Y/n's Pov***
"What does he see in her?!" You questioned.
"Girl, don't worry about it. He's only talking to her to get in between her panties." Said F/n. "I mean, seriously, it's not like he likes her. It's Lip we're talking about."
"Yeah... but he already got into her 'panties.' He doesn't normally stick around for 'more.'" You said as you packed your books back inside your locker.
"Girl, seriously. I know you've had a crush on him since freshman year, but you really need to move on. I mean, you can do better. I hope you know that." Said F/n as (She/He/They) walked toward their next-period class.
God, this sucks. Though (She/He/They) made a point... I mean, Karen's just a phase... right?
Time Skip!~
***Narrator's Pov***
It has been a couple of months later. Lip and Karen have grown even closer. Closer than Y/n expected. It's to the point where Lip always goes to her house now... Y/n obviously doesn't like this. She doesn't want to admit it, but she misses her dumba*s.
Though she wasn't going to be happy to hear the news tomorrow...
It's quite sad, really... After all, Lip once told her that he wouldn't leave her for dead.
Time Skip!~
***Y/n's Pov***
You sighed, turning off the TV.
I guess he's not coming...
This is the third time this month that he missed Movie Night Friday. You were starting to think that he didn't care.
You called him- ring, ring.
***Lip's Pov***
"Fuck... yes-" Lip moaned.
Buzz, Buzz
"Huh? Wait- hold on, Karen, Y/n's calling." Lip said as he got off her.
Karen just rolled her eyes.
"Yeah, what's up?" Said Lip as he got dressed.
You can hear Karen whining in the background.
"Hey. Ah- Did you forget? It's Friday... again."
"Oh- shit. Hold on, I'll be there in a minute-"
"No." You interrupted him. "Forget about it. Maybe next time. Bye."
"Y/n wai-"
With that, you hung up the call.
Shit
"I got to go, Karen." Lip says as he puts on his jacket-
"Why do you even care about her?" She asked as she lit a cigarette.
Lip paused for a moment. Then grabbed the cigarette out of her mouth.
"Cause." He said as the cigarette wiggled between his teeth.
Karen got up. "That's not an answer." She said as she followed him to her bedroom door.
"Does it matter? Why do you even care?" Said Lip defensively.
"I don't." She stated. "But you clearly do. I mean seriously. You'd rather- watch a movie. Instead of getting high- with me? You'd rather hang out with a girl who wouldn't dare to THINK about screwing you?" Karen placed a hand on Lip's chest. "I mean, come on, Lip. Why don't you just stay with me tonight? We can have lots of fun!"
Lip couldn't even mutter a word. He was completely flustered, standing there. A hard one was forming in his pants, and Karen shut the door behind him. She knew she won this round.
#shameless#lip gallagher#lip x reader#lip gallagher x reader#fanfiction#fanfic#shameless au#shameless fanfiction#crush#jealousy#drama#dramatic
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Prompt Fill: “Cold”
I’m what they like to call not a clown but the entire circus. I’ve managed to delete one of the asks by accident, but rest assured I did see an anonymous prompter wish for “cold” or something to that effect...
Dear reader, it’s 3,3K words, so here we fucking go, lads.
Islanders
Cleaned up and now also on Ao3
“A room and a bath,” Geralt says without even glancing at the barman, attention fully on the precious cargo in his arms.
“Hang on, Witcher, you can’t just–”
“You’ll get your coin,” he grits through his teeth, “but whether your head is still attached to your neck when you do is for you to decide. Room and a bath. Now.”
A key lands on the countertop.
“Upstairs and second door on the right.”
The man shouts to someone behind himself. “Ilde! Hot water for the Witcher, sharpish!”
“Geralt?”
His senses turn from the foul stench of old ale and unwashed bodies and funnel inwards towards the shape of Jaskier. His bard moans softly and leans an icy forehead against Geralt’s neck.
“Hmm?” Geralt murmurs against Jaskier’s hair.
“C-cold.”
He reeks of misery, sharp and undeserved. A great shiver runs through Jaskier, and Geralt tightens his hold around him.
“Cold water will do,” he grunts at the barman.
“But–”
“As fast as you can,” Geralt says, grabbing the key and making for the stairwell.
***
Casting igni in the direction of the hearth, Geralt lays Jaskier out on top of a humble straw mattress and begins to undress him. There’s no cloak, and the fool’s doublet is wet through. It refuses to budge, but Geralt has one ear turned towards Jaskier’s heartbeat and doesn’t hesitate to rip apart the fabric to get to skin. It’s paler than it should be and cold to the touch – cold where on any other day it is warmth itself. His bard gravitates towards sources of heat like a stable cat to an opportune sunbeam, and to exist in his orbit is a blessing greater than any coin Geralt has ever earned.
The ruined doublet hits the floor with a squelch. Geralt moves to grab Jaskier’s breeches, but a shaking hand stops him.
“I-I r-rather lik-ked that ‘n,” Jaskier says, looking if anything even more unhappy than before.
His pulse spikes, and worry roils in Geralt’s gut.
“Doublets are replaceable,” he says. He spares a quick squeeze to Jaskier’s fingers before pulling the breeches and boots off in one desperate, inelegant action.
Jaskier is not a small man, but now, sad and shivering on the cusp of blue-tinged infirmity, he hunches and curls, reducing himself. Geralt misses his all-encompassing business.
“In here,” comes a voice from the hallway, followed by what looks like the barman and his entire family. Two boys roll a tub in and settle it in front of the fireplace, and the others empty several buckets worth of water into it.
“More, go on,” Ilde says, and the troop leaves as quick as they come, casting wary glances at Geralt’s swords as they go.
“W-we’ll h’ve t-to p-pay more,” Jaskier says.
Geralt frowns and throws a threadbare blanket on top of him, inadequate and dusty though it is.
“If they get the rest of the water within the minute, they can have double.”
“Not double. They’ll ch-cheat you. Always d-do.” Jaskier clasps at the blanket. His hands, normally so clever and expressive, jerk with exhaustion and looming danger. “Not-t worth it.”
“Let me account for what value I keep,” Geralt says. “Not hush. You have to conserve energy.”
Geralt sits down and takes a hold of Jaskier’s hands.
“W-what?”
“Shh.”
He wraps his giant paws around Jaskier’s hands, feeling wiry strength and a lifeline beneath the cold. Pressing his lips to the gap between his own thumbs, he blows warm air into the space between them. When he looks up after the third blow, he finds Jaskier looking at him. He smells less scared now. There’s a thought dancing on the tip of the bard’s tongue, but Geralt gives him a quelling look.
“Right,” Ilde says from the doorway, and buckets follow with the kind of efficiency born of a strong desire to done and elsewhere. In less than a minute they are alone once more, door closing with a firm press.
A steady stream of controlled fire erupts from Geralt’s hand, and he guides it across the surface of the tub until steam rises like from Roach’s back when she’s been safely put to bed in a warm stall after a day of cold and damp. The water ripples as he tests the temperature.
“G-Geralt?” Jaskier is sitting up, blanket having dropped to the ground. “C-can I?”
“Hmm,” Geralt says. Jaskier’s heartbeat has yet to settle, but his lips have lost their frosty stiffness. Though dry and cracked, they look pinker and plumper than before. “It’s all for you.”
Gathering Jaskier in his arms once more, he hurries to the tub. He lowers Jaskier as well he can, but when they break the water’s surface–
“Ow,” Jaskier hisses. “Ow, G-Geralt.”
“I’m sorry, but you have to–”
“Hurts,” Jaskier presses, turning his face into Geralt’s neck with the same blind faith as he had when Geralt had come across him only an hour earlier, sodden and lost on the mucky road to the northern realms. His face, however, is not defiant or proud. This is a quiet pain, and Geralt aches in a place he had long thought broken beyond the repair of all charity.
“I know. Shhh. Hold on to me,” he says. “All in one go.”
Hands tighten weakly around his arm, and then he sinks Jaskier into the tub.
He doesn’t yell.
He doesn’t yell, but he does whimper – small and vulnerable and a thousand leagues beneath the surface of what he is entitled.
Geralt pulls his arms away.
“D-don’t g–”
“I’m not.”
Stripping down with stern efficiency, Geralt gets in the tub himself, taking care to not jostle Jaskier. Water spills over the side as he guides Jaskier against his chest, making sure to move his medallion so the sharp angles of the wolf’s head don’t do him harm. It is cramped, and he settles in to cover as much of Jaskier’s surface area with his own body. They sit with their knees bent and peaking out of the water like make-believe islands – an archipelago of muscle and bone.
“How are you feeling?”
Jaskier breaths deeply and leans his face against Geralt’s shoulder.
“Like I’m b-being poked by a h-hundred n-needles.”
Geralt draws an arm around Jaskier’s chest, using his other hand to cover one of Jaskier’s knees.
“Rest.”
“I-I’m so...I shouldn’t h-hav–”
He shakes his head. Jaskier must feel it for he falls silent again.
“Rest.”
***
Jaskier falls asleep in the tub with Geralt wrapped around him like a giant octopus from out of a Skelligan skald. The rhythm of his heart gradually calms to his regular song – almost bird-like by Geralt’s reckoning. Twice he warms the bathwater, content to let his meditation be guided by the measure of Jaskier’s recovery. He wills his own warmth to seep from his skin and through Jaskier’s, and if something else should flow with it, then he reckons he is far too old to be duplicitous now.
“You needn’t stay on my account.”
Geralt looks down into the wild blue yonder.
“Do you want me to go?” he asks.
The thought sits awkwardly in him, pinching with the discomfort of new shoes.
“I want you to do what you want to do.”
“Jaskier–”
“Stay,” Jaskier says on the wave of a quiet exhale. Geralt watches the word’s traces whisk across the water and sends a small flicker of flame after it. Steam rises once more, and Jaskier sighs, and it sounds acceptably content.
“How are you feeling?”
“Much better. On the whole, practically divine.”
There’s a snobbish artfulness to Jaskier’s tone now, and Geralt allows himself the press of a smile against Jaskier’s hairline.
“Better or worse than a weekend with the Countess de Stael?”
“Darling, must you? I’ve quite reached my limit with humiliation for today.” There’s a tightness to his lips as Jaskier speaks, and Geralt frowns.
“Will you tell me why you were on the road, no cloak or lute to be seen?”
Jaskier looks down, and his scent turns abruptly with embarrassment, smelling faintly like something is burning.
“I suppose I’ll have to tell you.” He looks up with a tinge of defiance in his eyes, but it’s no hardship for Geralt to keep looking at him. “But you’ll have to earn it first.”
“Oh?”
“Wash my hair?”
There is life in his cornflower blues again, and that is reward enough for any challenge. Without a word, Geralt gets up and out of the tub. Water drips all over the creaky floorboards as he makes for the saddlebags brought up by one of the boys. His nose guides him to a bottle of oil scented with mild lavender, and he picks up a cup on his way back to Jaskier.
With pink-tinged cheeks, Jaskier watches him climb back in behind him.
“I didn’t mean–”
Geralt huffs.
“Yes you did. Hush.”
Cup in hand, Geralt guides Jaskier’s head into a tilt and scoops water over his hair, using his other hand to block the water from running into the bard’s eyes.
“You know, telling me to hush really isn’t as charming as your dour self might imagine.”
“Try sitting quietly in the knowledge of being,” Geralt says, feeling his lip twitch with the sort of maddening lack of control that eases into existence whenever Jaskier is around.
“Unbearable. Take that back.”
“Close your eyes.”
Jaskier closes his eyes immediately, and Geralt finds he has to swallow past all his want at the blatant display of trust. He spills some oil into his palms and wonders if Jaskier would let him do this if he knew the true shape of Geralt’s heart. Whole kingdoms believe it to be nonexistent or at the very least shrivelled and decaying. Jaskier thinks different. If he is to be believed, Geralt’s heart is like a honeyed bun – warm and dripping with a sweetness that Geralt knows was exterminated the second he saw Kaer Morhen rise in front of his too-young eyes. Little does Jaskier know that if you were to open Geralt’s chest and break it open past ribs and sinew and hold his heart, you would find it alternatingly smooth like silk chemises and rough with fingertip callouses, beating a rhythm to whatever tune it pleases.
“Are you alright, darling?”
Jaskier has tilted his head back even further to look at him nearly upside down.
“Sorry,” Geralt mutters, hurrying to start to run his hands through Jaskier’s hair. It is brown and short and soft to the touch. With every turn of his hands, he washes away the smell of Jaskier’s hurt and replaces it with lavender and his own touch.
“Did I say divine before? I must have lost my wits. This is my religion.”
Geralt feels a chuckle rumble up his throat and into the still bedroom air. Eyes closed again, Jaskier seems to settle in on his own terms, and Geralt is more than happy to let him.
“Did you know there was an inventor from the southern continent – further south even than Nilfgaard – who discovered the measurement for density by sitting in a bathtub?”
Jaskier prattles on about mathematics and science and a man running naked down cobbled streets, and Geralt lets the sound of his voice cleanse him of all worries. He finishes washing Jaskier’s hair, and rinses it with the cup. Afterwards, he gathers more oil and settles his hands across Jaskier’s shoulders. There’s a hitch in Jaskier’s throat as Geralt begins to gentle the oil into soft, pale skin.
“G-Geralt?”
Geralt frowns.
“Are you cold again?”
“No.” Jaskier’s voice sounds small.
“May I continue?”
Jaskier’s chest expands with a visible breath.
“Please,” he says, shoulders gaining a healthy dusting of pinkish glow. He starts talking again when Geralt continues to oil his skin, Jaskier moving on to a fevered and slightly panic-tinged monologue about the Cintran sonnet form.
Jaskier’s body is strong beneath him. His skin bears only a few scars from youthful mishaps and a characteristic refusal to be left behind. There is one running length of his back that he earned as a boy slipping down a rocky hill. Another – much smaller – has nicked his ear from when he did not move fast enough away from a drowner’s grasp. Geralt remembers tending to the wound in a furious silence, and he also remembers the apologetic look of abject misery that trailed him for a full week thereafter. It is the longest he has ever heard Jaskier be quiet, and he is grateful the bard has never again felt cause to curb his words in his presence.
I love him, Geralt thinks.
It’s not the first time he’s thought it, and he knows it will not be the last. He will carry the knowledge with him for however many centuries he may have left, and he will die with its truth glowing in every part of his body – an idea so well lived and nurtured that when his rotting corpse becomes earth once more around him will grow a ring made of dandelions and buttercups.
They have bathed together many times, but though Jaskier washes him after practically every monster fight, Geralt has until now not had the opportunity to return the favour. In the beginning he had no desire to. After that he had no cause to. Now, as he watches Jaskier’s nervous energy dispel at every gentle touch of Geralt’s hand, he thinks that perhaps he’s never needed more cause than that he wishes to.
Geralt may not have as much experience as Jaskier when it comes to bathing another person, but he finds it comes easy when he thinks of how Jaskier bathes him. He thinks of Jaskier’s hands on him, soothing touches on bruised skin – careful even when minor wounds have long healed. He thinks of clever fingers massaging his neck and back. He thinks of timid motions turning methodical with confidence for every evening spent plucking endrega entrails out of white hair. At Jaskier’s waist, Geralt’s hands still. He thinks of – he thinks of how he himself has only ever given impersonal washes to his brothers, cleaning the necessary wounds and skirting quickly past the groin to everyone’s better happiness. He thinks of two nights ago – on the cusp of their yearly parting – how Jaskier had cleaned his thighs, his hips, the vee of his abdomen…
He thinks of Jaskier with a washcloth, strong with tender caress between Geralt’s fingers – between Geralt’s toes.
He thinks of the care and acceptance that saturates every action.
He thinks Jaskier certainly deserves it. He deserves to have the same love – for love he now realises it is – reflected back at himself with as much willingness and devotion. And for that reason alone he shall have it.
Jaskier’s left knee has a thick scar on it from when he tried to ride Roach without permission and she dumped him in a field.
“Darling? Your face looks very Geralt-y.”
He looks to see Jaskier’s face inches from his own.
“What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?”
“Brooding? Plotting? Dreaming? I haven’t the foggiest. What are you thinking about?”
“I think our knees look like islands.”
Silence falls save for the occasional sound of a drop of water hitting the now tepid bath and the comforting crackle of the fireplace. Geralt feels Jaskier’s toe twitch next to his own before he shifts, leaning back against Geralt’s chest, and raises his leg straight up into the air.
“I suppose that makes our leg hairs the islanders,” Jaskier says in such perfect sincerity.
Geralt swallows.
“Where is your lute?”
He feels rather than hears Jaskier’s sigh as he puts his leg back into the water.
“Hopefully still back at the Squealing Pig.”
For a second, Geralt is stunned.
“Wh–”
“I left it–”
“On purpose?”
Geralt doesn’t think his eyebrows could rise any higher if he willed them to.
“Of course not! Well, perhaps. Not really, though. It’s hard to explain.”
“Explain.”
“You left.”
As if in agreement, they both pause to let that short truth hang in the air like a brightly coloured flag.
“I left because it’s winter. We always part for winter.”
“I know.”
“You even hugged me goodbye and waved me off.”
“I know.”
“You–”
“I know.” Jaskier digs his forehead into Geralt’s clavicle so hard it hurts, but Geralt finds he has no intention to ever ask him to move. “I know I did, and then I woke the next day, and you were gone, and I felt like something was missing, and then I forgot my lute and my bag and my cloak, and I set off after you.”
There’s a warmth brewing beneath Geralt’s skin, and it ignites at every touchpoint shared between them.
“And then it snowed,” he says.
“And then it snowed,” Jaskier says, “and it was too late to go back, but I didn’t have my cloak, and I didn’t have my lute so I could play my way to a room. So I kept walking, but it was so cold, and I got lost, and then…”
I love him, Geralt thinks.
“And then you fell asleep in the woods,” Geralt says.
Jaskier rests his hand over Geralt’s heart.
“And then you found me,” he says.
“And you scared me half to death,” Geralt says.
“And here we are.”
“Hmmm,” Geralt sounds and does not know what to say. Words leap out of Jaskier like pufflballs in a summer breeze, scattering dandelion seeded meaningfulness all across the northern continent. He doesn’t know what to say, and so he gentles his hand down Jaskier’s side, curls his legs up more, and brings Jaskier even closer to him. Jaskier gasps into his neck as Geralt settles him in his lap, and then – slowly, tentatively, achingly – arms come around Geralt’s shoulders. Geralt turns his head and nudges Jaskier’s nose with his own, their foreheads resting together in a pleasure so perfect that where he to die in the morning he would do so with the knoweldge that he knew the touch of happiness.
Hands caress through his hair and cup the side of his face, a thumb stroking back and forth over his cheek, and he can feel it’s well pruned from the water. Jaskier gasps again, almost as if on a sob, but no tears come.
“Geralt, I–” he croaks, faltering as he draws the knuckles of his right hand up and down Geralt’s neck. “Geralt, I think you’re the most magnificent…”
He tightens his arms around Jaskier and feels his every breath dance across his lips.
“I think you’re the most magnificent person I’ve ever met. You’re–” Jaskier laughs and shakes his head so their foreheads rub together. “Geralt, I don’t even have the words, I–”
“I do,” Geralt says.
Jaskier blinks.
“Y–you do?”
I love him, Geralt thinks.
“I love you,” Geralt says, not for a second looking away from Jaskier’s face so that he may see the hope, the surprise, and the happiness write themselves across him like an open book. And here they come, and there they go, and here love is to stay.
Jaskier makes a noise – relief and desperation all in one – and then cracked lips are on his own, and Geralt kisses back. He kisses soft, he kisses gentle, and he kisses joy.
“You really did know what to say,” Jaskier laughs.
“Mmm,” Geralt says, kissing him again.
Jaskier cups his face between both hands.
“Dear heart, I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you,” he says and draws breath as if to continue on forever and ever.
Geralt kisses him one more time, feeling Jaskier’s lips curve up into a helpless smile.
“Not the most complicated rhyme scheme you’ve ever come up with, my lark,” he murmurs.
“Darling,” Jaskier laughs, “I’ll write you so many songs.”
Liked it? Prompt me!
#bunnywrites#bunnyhaswritten#bunnywrote#bunnyask#bunnyfic#geraskier#the tub#the witcher#prompt fill#Geralt#jaskier#no roach#but you know she carried these losers on her back on the way to the village#and after this they go back for jaskier's lute#and then they go to kaer morhen or oxenfurt for the season#you know how it is#sorry if there are spelling mistakes#it's 4am and i'm tired
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The Forces of Nature || Ch. 2
Pairing: Peter Parker x Superhero!Reader
Summary: “There’s this kid out there that can control the wind or something. I think she’s a great addition to the team. Let’s recruit her.”
Peter was torn. He didn't know what to do. All the information he got was a lot to take in. First of all, Tony wanted to recruit someone new even though they could catch 'The Violent Swine' on their own. Second of all, Tony wanted to recruit Y/N; the girl he despised. Lastly, he had never spoken to Y/N before. While he and MJ ended on good terms, he never approached Y/N because he simply had no reason to. Approaching her now would be so weird. Plus, his jealousy might get ahead of himself.
So, he sought advice from Ned the next day at school. Peter grabbed his things from his locker as Ned told him about something that happened yesterday. Peter couldn't focus, though. All he could think about was how he could recruit Y/N without actually saying the word 'recruit'. Peter swiftly turned to Ned and whispered, "I have something to tell you and you CANNOT tell anyone."
Ned stopped talking and quickly nodded his head, "Okay. What's up?"
Peter closed his locker and fully turned to Ned, "Do you know Y/N?"
Ned nodded with a smile, "Yeah, she's really nice. She's new here and she's friends with MJ. Why'd you ask?"
Peter looked around to see if anyone was listening. He knew he didn't have to because no one would pay attention to him and Ned, anyway. But he just wanted to make sure. As much as he despised Y/N, the least he could do was to make sure no one else heard his and Ned's conversation.
"She has super powers." Peter whispered. Ned's eyes widened and his jaw dropped. After all, it's not every day that you get to hear someone having super powers. "Close your mouth or flies will get in there." Peter said and nudged Ned, who closed his mouth immediately. Ned was about to speak when MJ and Y/N passed by.
"Hey losers." MJ said with a bored look on her face. Y/N stood next to her looking flawless as ever. She was wearing a plain white blouse paired with a skirt that had a nice shade of green that ran all the way an inch below her knees. Around her waist was a dark green belt and her white Keds made her outfit look complete. To top it all off, she wore a dark olive green headband to keep her hair from going to her face and a thin gold necklace around her neck with a star as the pendant. In summary, she looked prim and proper. It was cute.
Peter looked at Y/N up and down and his face contorted in disgust, "What the hell are you wearing, Y/N?"
Y/N looked at Peter with a shocked expression because they've never spoken to each other before. Heck, Peter never even made an effort to acknowledge her presence at school in spite of having the same classes. Y/N looked down at her clothes before she looked at Peter with a small smile on her face, "Clothes. I'm wearing decent clothes, Peter."
MJ and Ned snickered at her response. Peter rolled his eyes and said, "I know that, dumb-ass. But what the hell is that style?"
"U-Um, the- the 1940's...?" Y/N stuttered. She didn't know why she stuttered, but she was certain about one thing: Peter was being mean. She thought only kids were mean, but she never expected people to be mean in high school. In her old school, everyone was nice to her.
"Did Steve Rogers throw up on you?" Peter teased.
"E-Excuse m-me? Steve Ro-"
"Yes, Captain America, doofus!" Peter rolled his eyes. "You look like a grandma. Were you frozen like Steve too? I bet he knew who you were, grandma."
"Cut it out, Peter." MJ said sternly. They made eye contact and MJ shook her head in disappointment. "Let's go, Y/N. These losers aren't worth it, especially Peter."
MJ walked ahead and Y/N just stood there as she looked at the two boys, "Um, have a nice day, guys!" She quickly followed MJ and Peter huffed. Ned lightly smacked the back of Peter's head and asked, "What the fuck is wrong with you??"
"What do you mean? Have you seen her?" Peter asked with an amused expression.
"Yeah, I've seen her. I actually like her outfit." Ned said with a frown. "Get over yourself, man. Take a chill pill. Relax. Why are you mad at her, anyway?"
"Mr. Stark wants to recruit her to be an Avenger because of her powers." Peter said quietly. Ned furrowed his eyebrows, "What's wrong with that? You should be happy that you have someone your age on the team."
"She's not on the team!" Peter shouted, his voice echoing the school corridor. Students turned to look at Peter as he muttered apologies. They quickly looked away and as soon as they did, Peter continued, "She's not on the team, not yet at least. Mr. Stark wants ME to recruit her and I kinda don't want to but I know I have to. I'm having a dilemma."
"That's easy. Just befriend her." Ned shrugged as they walked to their class. "That doesn't explain why you're so mean, though. I mean, it does, but it's not enough."
"She's also better than me at everything. Teachers used to ask me the hardest questions, because I was usually the only smart guy in class. Now, this bitch comes in walking around like she owns the fucking school-"
"She's literally shy, Peter."
"-And she effortlessly grabs the teachers' attention?! Now, they give HER the hardest questions and I'm stuck like everyone else! It's annoying, Ned! I used to be the big shot nerd around here. It also doesn't help that she's part of the decathlon team. She's also in the band when I joined again!"
"You know, I heard she joined every club." Ned informed.
"Even glee club? There are only, like, five people in that club." Peter snorted.
"Hey, I'm in that club!" Ned exclaimed. "And F.Y.I., we have 10 members. Not 5."
Peter rolled his eyes and sarcastically said, "Thanks for informing me, Ned."
"No problem, Peter." Ned smiled as they stopped in front of a classroom. "This is my class. See ya later, dude!"
"See ya!"
They did their handshake before Ned entered and Peter left. He internally groaned when he entered his classroom to find an empty seat next to Y/N. His day was not great.
He walked towards her as she fixed the stuff she needed on the table. She looked up and saw Peter. She gave him a small smile as he sat down next to her.
"Hi, Peter."
"Hi, grandma. Where are my cookies?" Peter mocked and gave her a sarcastic smile. Y/N didn't have the time to respond because their teacher came and discussed about world history.
"Good morning, class! Today's topic is about the Tudors. Has anyone have an idea on who they are?" Mrs. Johnson asked.
Y/N ecstatically raised her hand and answered with a bright smile. Peter glared at her and looked away. "Of course, you fucking know. You know everything." Peter muttered under his breath. Y/N heard this, but she didn't let it phase her or bother her. Peter was just a boy anyway and he was allowed to feel upset or annoyed or angry. He was only human, after all.
After a long discussion about the Tudors, the bell finally rang. However, Mrs. Johnson had other plans. "Class, before you leave, I have an announcement."
The whole class groaned because they were all ready to leave. Y/N sat patiently, though. All her things were neatly tucked away in her bag. As the students trudged their way back to their seats, Peter turned to Y/N, "Why are you such a pretentious girl?" Y/N turned her head to look at him.
"You don't have to act that way all the time." Peter added.
"Pretentious? What do you mean?" She asked with a confused look on her face.
Peter sighed in frustration, "Pretentious. Like, why do you have to act all prim and proper or something? Why are you acting like the queen is coming?"
Y/N looked away and looked down at her hands that was resting on her lap, "I'm sorry if it annoys you, then."
"Don't be sorry. Be better." Peter said before turning to look straight ahead.
"All of you will be paired for a presentation about the Tudors. Your partners will be your seat mates. I'll be going around to tell you what your topics are and you're free to go." Mrs. Johnson said as she started roaming around.
Peter groaned. He currently hates his life.
When Mrs. Johnson arrived at their area, she smiled proudly, "Ahh, Ms. Y/L/N and Mr. Parker! I'm so glad that two of the smartest people here are joining forces for this presentation. Your topic is about Elizabeth the First. I'm expecting a lot from both of you. You’ll present Monday next week."
Y/N and Peter smiled at Mrs. Johnson as she walked to the next one. They both grabbed their stuff and walked out the classroom. Peter quickly walked to his locker as Y/N followed him. He opened his locker and put his things in it and getting the things he needs for his next class.
"Wow, you walk really fast!" Y/N chuckled lightly.
"What do you want, Y/N?" Peter internally groaned. He slammed his locker shut causing Y/N to jump slightly. He turned to look at her with an annoyed look on his face.
"I, uh, I figured that we could work on the presentation together later today. You know, the earlier we finish, the better." Y/N politely smiled at him.
"I can't. I have the Stark Internship." Peter shrugged. He sees her at school every day since she got there and she wants to meet up after school for their presentation? It's a no from Peter.
"That's why we have cellphones and social media, Y/N. But you wouldn't know that because you're such a grandma." Peter spat before walking to his next class. Y/N went after him and walked beside him, "Can we walk to class together, then? We have the same classes, anyway."
Peter abruptly stopped walking and fully turned to her, "Fine. We can walk to class together. In one condition."
"Sure!"
"Don't fucking talk to me unless it's really fucking important. Like, literally shut up unless it's an emergency. You can also talk to me when I start the conversation. Just speak when spoken to. Got it?" Peter said. Y/N just nodded her head. "Good. Let's walk." Peter said as he began to walk to their next class with Y/N trying to catch up.
Their next class was chemistry and Peter made it his ultimate goal to try and beat her in answering all the questions. Every time he beat her, he smiled proudly to himself. At one point, he let out a small, celebratory, 'yes!'.
Y/N giggled and Peter looked at her, "What?"
She shook her head and smiled to herself, "Nothing. It's just adorable whenever you get an answer right. I admire you, Peter. You're really smart."
She didn't talk again after that, but Peter blushed at her words. He shook it off, though. He didn't want to be distracted. He was too competitive.
When lunch time arrived, Y/N sat with Peter, Ned, and MJ like usual. MJ was reading her book as she chewed on her sandwich. Y/N sat next to her and smiled, "Hey MJ."
MJ smiled at her, "Hey Y/N. What's up?" They began talking about random stuff. Peter sat next to Ned and Ned immediately asked how his classes were.
"They were alright." Peter said and ate his lunch.
"How the process of befriending her?" Ned asked. Peter shrugged. Ned sighed, "Peter, just do it. She's really cool, I swear."
Peter was about to respond, but Y/N interrupted him. "Ned, I have something to tell you!" Y/N smiled as she stood up from her seat and moved to sit in front of Ned.
Ned subtly nudged Peter as he smiled at her, "What's up, Y/N?"
"I already have a song idea for our performance on graduation." Y/N smiled excitedly. "Also, I have good news."
"Oooh, what is it?" Ned asked, matching her excitement.
"So, I'm doing community theater, right?"
"Yup. What about it?"
"I got you a part in our show!" She squealed. Ned was in shock. Peter looked at Ned expectantly. He wanted an explanation. He didn't know Ned was into that.
"Wow! Thanks, Y/N/N! That's so cool! I'll text you, okay?" Y/N smiled before going back to her seat next to MJ.
"Um, Ned? Please explain." Peter said. He's never been more confused in his entire 18 years of existence.
"Oh, I wanted to try my hand at theater. So when I found out that Y/N did community theater during summer until now, I asked if I could join. Then, I got in!" Ned grinned. "I can't wait, man. I'm excited. And that's how you befriend someone, Peter. You're just stubborn and jealous."
Peter said nothing and just ate his food. The rest of the day, Y/N stuck to her word stayed quiet. Peter immediately left after the last class to patrol and to go to the compound. His patrol was surprisingly short. No crime was happening that day. 'Maybe the criminals are lazy today.' Peter thought as he swung his way to the compound.
When he arrived, he was informed by Pepper that everyone was waiting for him in the meeting room. He went inside the meeting room and took off his mask and sat on the empty seat, "Hey everyone!"
"Ahh, young spider boy! It is always lovely to see you." Thor smiled.
"I'm just surprised he's on time." Bucky said with his arms crossed. Sam hummed in agreement.
"Okay, let's skip the pleasantries-" Tony said but Scott cut him off.
"Let's go. Grab your pistol." Scott sang with a smile as everyone looked at him. "Get it? From Hamilton? 'Blow Us All Away'?"
"Scott." Steve said sternly. Scoot cleared his throat and said, "Sorry about that Tony."
Tony just looked at Peter and asked, "So, how's the recruiting? We all really want her on the team now."
"Yeah, it's about time we have another girl in here." Wanda said.
"Preach!" Natasha said. "We want her in the team now."
Peter looked at everyone and sighed, "I'm still figuring out how I'll do it. Besides, why do we need her? We're the Avengers! We can do anything."
"Is this some misogynistic thing?" Natasha raised her eyebrow. Peter quickly shook his head, "N-No! Of course not. It's just that we don't need another person in our team. We're all powerful together."
"But imagine her in our team. We'd be MORE powerful." Rhodey added. A chorus of "that's true" and "yup" filled the room. Peter leaned back on his seat and sighed.
"Kid, she has powers BEYOND ours. She's powerful, it's admittedly scary." Tony explained.
Steve nodded, "Tony's right. If she could control the wind, we figured that there's no doubt she could control other elements. And if we're right, we really need her more than ever."
"The more, the merrier." Scott said with a shrug. "If you ask me, I agree that we need that kid. All in favor of getting her on the team, raise your hands."
Scott and everyone except Peter raised their hands. Peter sighed and gave in, "Fine. Maybe we do need her."
"Yes, so do your best in recruiting her. We don't take 'no' for an answer." Tony said. "We also don't want the swine flu to kill more innocent people."
"Swine flu?" Peter asked with a confused look on his face.
Steve chuckled, "I understood that joke. That's a good one."
Peter drowned out everyone else as he thought to himself deeply. He didn't know what to do. He didn't really hate her. He just disliked her. If he didn't recruit her, he'd be in trouble and Tony would probably take his suit away or something. If he did recruit her, he'd have to think of something on how to do it. But what'll happen if he doesn't do it?
"Hey, Mr. Stark?"
"Yeah?"
"What happens if I don't recruit her? What'll happen?" Peter asked. "I'm just curious."
Tony thought for a bit and looked at Scott and smiled before turning to Peter, "Scott will recruit her. He has a daughter and he could probably relate to her on some level or something."
Scott cheered and grinned, "If Peter fails, I solemnly swear that I got this! I can fulfill the task that you thrust upon me."
"Man, you're weird." Sam said as he looked at Scott. Scott just shrugged, "At least I'm unique and I love it. I encourage Cassie to be unique too. I love that kid so much."
Peter nodded, "Okay."
If he did it, he'd have to befriend her. If he didn't, his suit would probably be taken away and Scott would do it instead. He guessed trying to befriend her wouldn't be so bad.
-
Y/N entered the apartment she shared with Eunice. It wasn't small, but it wasn't really big either. It was just right. She loved every second of every day living with Eunice. They clean the apartment together every weekend, they sing together, on Eunice's day off she takes Y/N to the mall and buys her new clothes, they dance when one of them plays music, and so much more. Y/N loved Eunice like an older sister she never had.
Y/N went straight to her room and called Eunice.
Hi! I'm sorry I can't answer the phone right now. Please leave a message after the beep.
Y/N sighed and left a message anyway, "Hey Eunice! I just got home. So, uh, I just want you to know that. I'll cook dinner tonight, by the way. Love you!" She hung up and did her homework.
About an hour later, Y/N started to prepare for dinner. She decided to cook lasagna, because why not? She and Eunice loved lasagna. Thirty minutes into cooking, Eunice arrived home.
"That smells delish, Y/N!!" Eunice grinned as she entered the apartment and closed the door. "Do you need help?"
"Can you please set the table and wash the things on the sink?"
"Sure!" Eunice started washing the used utensils on the sink as they talked about their day.
"Oh, hey! It's your birthday next week and it falls on my day off. Why don't you invite your friends over? We could have a small celebration here." Eunice said excitedly. Y/N smiled at the thought and said, "I'll ask them."
Her only friend was MJ and she wasn't even sure if she and Ned were friends. If she invited Ned, he'd probably bring Peter. The things is, Peter disliked her. Strongly disliked her. She didn't know what to do.
"Is everything okay?" Eunice asked, her voice lacing concern.
"Yeah." Y/N smiled. "I was just thinking about something."
"Tell me about it." Eunice smiled.
"There's this guy at school named Peter and he really dislikes me for some reason. He's also my partner in world history. He's always so angry at me or something. I haven't even done anything." She sighed heavily.
"Hmm... maybe he likes you." Eunice teased. "Boys do that when they like someone. Either he likes you or he's jealous of you. BUT don't ever assume things, okay? We don't know his side of the story, so let's not judge him no matter how much you say he dislikes you. Just get to know him better. You said he was your partner, right?"
"Yeah."
"So, try and befriend him while working on your project or something. Both of you need to work together to get a decent grade and you'll both be friends in no time." Eunice suggested.
"You know what? I never thought of that. Thanks, Eunice." Y/N smiled and pulled Eunice in a tight hug which Eunice gladly returned.
"I'm starving." Eunice chuckled and pulled away. Y/N laughed and continued cooking as Eunice set the table. After a while, the food was ready and they ate their dinner.
"This is really good, Y/N." Eunice said with her mouth full.
"Thanks." Y/N laughed. "Should I prepare it when Peter gets here for the presentation thing?"
"Definitely."
"That's settled, then."
* * * *
𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @myblueleatherbag @harryismysunflower @buckys-little-hoe @justanothermarvelmaniac @itstaskeen
𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @marvelousell @justasmisunderstoodasloki @rubberducky-jrr @petersholland @osterfieldnholland @miraclesoflove @god-knows-what-am-i-doing @perspectiveparker @parker-potters @itstaskeen @call-me-baby-gir1 @the-panwitch @iamaunicorn4704 @chloecreatesfictions @holland-styles
#peter parker#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker fanfic#peter parker fic#peter parker series#peter parker x reader#peter parker x y/n#in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh
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age (ch.3) - f.andersen
Author’s Notes: Hey y’all, here’s the third part to Age, I really really hope this one is as good as the other two and that you all enjoy it. There will be a part 4, and I'm working on that one right now ! *not proofread*
Warnings: slight more angst. that’s it.
Freddie twirls your yellow scrunchie in his hand as he’s driving to Mitch’s to come and finally talk to you.
For the last two weeks he’s been dying to answer your calls and texts, wanting nothing more than to have you back in his arms, and even just back in his life. But every time he came as close to pressing the accept button, he always heard everyone’s voices in his head, nagging at him, telling him he wasn’t good enough.
He tried so hard to accept that fact, but as the days rolled by, he found himself finding the littlest things that connected to you.
A day after you left, he came back home to find you left your favourite wine in the fridge, and after seeing all of your things were gone, the bottle was as good as empty.
Three days after you left, he was in the living room, laying on his couch. But something kept poking his back and he couldn’t quite get comfortable, and as he pulled the object out of his couch, he quickly noticed that it was your old hairbrush that you lost. And he laughed at the memory of your eyes lighting up when he bought you the one you have now. You were always appreciative of the small gifts.
When the sixth day came by, it was only getting harder for Fred, they had another game that night and they lost. Fred doesn’t usually cry when the boys lose, because he always had you. Coming back to his apartment to see you weren’t there and was met with complete silence, he didn’t even take off his shoes before he kneels on the floor and lets the tears fall.
Freddie was a grown ass man who could make his own decisions, he told himself he could handle everything, he told himself that no one else mattered as long as you and he were happy, and he thought he could believe it to. Something snapped in him after your visit to your parents, your father’s words hit a nerve.
My daughter can do so much better than a washed up player like you.
Not only did he tell him he wasn’t good enough for his daughter, but he insulted his hockey skills too. Not that it was necessarily more important, but the term washed up was often used to describe a creepy old player who thought he could still play with the younger guys. Is that what you saw him as? Did you think it was a little weird for someone his age to be still playing?
It was almost as if your dad opened up his insecurities with just one sentence. Thirty isn’t that old, there’s players older than him that are still playing, but you know how insecurities are; complex and unnecessary. The most important thing in his life was you, and every day he was filled with fear that he was going to lose you. And now he had.
The only person he could think to call was his mom, so after calming down a bit, he grabs his phone from his pocket and clicks her contact.
Søn? (son?)
Hej mor (Hi mom)
Du ringer normalt ikke efter spil, hvad er der galt? (you don’t normally call after games, what’s wrong?)
Nå, vi tabte… (well, we lost…)
Åh jeg er ked af det søn, hvor er Y/N? (oh, I’m sorry son, where is Y/N?)
Det var det, jeg kaldte dig om, vi brød sammen... (that’s what I called you about, we broke up…)
And for the rest of that night he talked with his mom, who gave him a lot of advice and told him exactly what he needed to hear. He cried some more but his mother quickly shushed him, encouraging him that everything will work out. She told him that maybe this needed to happen, so that you and Fred would figure something out about one another that you needed to. They talked until it’s the early hours in the morning and she tells him to get some rest, bidding him a goodnight and a I love you my son, before hanging up.
Almost two weeks later, he’s in his bathroom searching for another razor, opening every drawer, and when he gets to the one way at the bottom, it used to be yours, he finds your favourite yellow scrunchie. He grabs it and smiles slightly at the reason behind it. Shaking his head, he stares at himself in the mirror, “What are you doing?” Sighing, he puts the scrunchie around wrist, and keeps it there.
The next day after practice, he sure as hell wasn’t expecting Mitch to blow up at him like that, but he didn’t blame him. He wasn’t angry at Mitch, he couldn’t be, he understood exactly where Mitch was coming from. Here he was, worrying about his own feelings towards everything and he didn’t even try to acknowledge yours. And that thought alone had him jumping into his car and following Mitch back to his place.
Mitch had just gotten home and him and Steph were in their room, getting ready to run to the grocery store, you sat on their couch, towel wrapped your head after just having a shower.
“Alright, we’ll be back soon, don’t tear this place apart.” Mitch teases and you throw one of the couch pillows at him, “See? This is what I mean.” He picks up the pillow and throws it back. You shake your head and laugh until there’s a knock on the door, “Come in!” Steph yells, going into the kitchen to grab her purse.
The door opens and you turn away to face the tv, nervously playing with the remote, and you hear him speak, “Can I talk to Y/N?” Mitch nods, “Yeah, Steph and I were just about to head out.” Speaking of, Steph walks back in but doesn’t say a word, just shoots a reassuring smile at Fred before her and Mitch leave.
Freddie takes his shoes off and slowly makes his way around the couch, sitting on the one opposite to you, “Y/N…” You don’t look up and Fred feels even more guilty, “You uhm, you forgot your favourite scrunchie.” You look up then, and stare at the yellow elastic in his hand, reaching your hand out, he comes and hands it to you, taking the seat next to you.
Fred speaks again, “Do you remember why it’s your favourite?” You nod, “It’s your favourite colour, Fred.” He smiles, “Not really.” You furrow your eyebrows and go to question him but he stops you, “You got this a day after our first year anniversary, because of the day before,” he grabs your hand, “On our first year anniversary, we were sat on the hood of my car, watching the sunset by the bridge. You decided it was a good idea to play twenty questions, so we did. On your tenth question, you asked me what my favourite colour was, saying that you didn’t know, and before I could answer you shouted at me to let you guess.”
Your tears are pooling in your eyes at the memory, how everything seemed so perfect then, when very few people knew about you two, you got to live your relationship without any judging eyes.
Fred sniffs but continues the story, “You thought for a second before yelling out the colour yellow, and just as I was about to correct you, I saw how hopeful your eyes looked, I saw how the golden colours from the sunset bounced off your skin, how the rays from the sun made it look like you had your very own halo on top your head, your eye colour just a little bit brighter and glossy that I could see myself in them, and how much love you held just by staring at me, and in that moment you looked like an angel, a soft, golden angel, and I couldn’t believe you were mine. I didn’t have a favourite colour, but I decided then, that yellow would be.”
You let out a sob and wrap your arms around his neck, and he wraps his around your middle. You both must have looked a mess, the both of you crying and falling apart in your friend’s living room.
Freddie pulls away but keeps your hands in his, “I’m sorry dronning, for everything, for breaking up with you, for not returning any of your calls, ignoring you, and most of all, not talking to you about how I was feeling. I hadn’t considered at all how you feel about all of this and for that I am so sorry, and you have every right to be angry and upset.” You shook your head at his words, “Fred, I should be the one who’s sorry, it wasn’t just your fault, I should have asked you how were you feeling, I should have been a shoulder to lean on, I should have supported you with all of this.”
You squeeze his hand in his, “We both are responsible, I guess we aren’t that good at communicating as we thought.” Fred chuckles at your words and nods his head, “No, but we can be. If you come back to me, I promise to always be honest with you, always talk to you, and always be there for you, if you let me.”
You both know there are somethings that are still left unsaid; your parents, the ring, whether or not you want to move back in. But for now, you just wanted to be held by him, to feel his strong arms wrapped around you and make you feel like nothing could ever hurt you. You can talk more later, right now you just want to rest.
“I’ll always come back to you.”
Mitch and Steph got back around an hour after you two talked, and when they walked in, they couldn’t help but awe at the sight of their two friends asleep on their couch, wrapped in each other’s arms and the faint sound of your steady breathing.
As quietly as they could, they bring in all their grocery bags and put them away, and Steph gets started on dinner.
You wake up to the faint smell of spaghetti and the sound of dishes clanking together. You stretch out and notice that Freddie isn’t with you anymore, and it’s then you hear soft voices coming from the kitchen too. Getting up, you turn the tv on and click a random sports channel, seeing them talk about the plays of the week.
You walk into the kitchen and see Steph getting everyone’s spaghetti into the bowls and the two boys sat at the table. They all look up and greet you before going back to what they were doing, “Y/N, would you mind grabbing some water from the fridge, as well as some cans of pop?” You nod at Steph’s request and open their fridge, grabbing the four of you some drinks and placing them on the table.
“Dinner is all done…” Steph announces, handing you and Fred your bowls, Fred thanks her and scoots closer to you, “Hey elsker, did you have a nice nap?” You nod, “Did you?” He smiles, “With you in my arms? Of course I did.” You giggle at his cheesy line and finish eating.
After dinner is done and you’ve helped Steph clean, you all sit together in the living room and watch movies until it’s late enough to where Fred goes back his place and you three part ways to go to sleep.
It’s the next morning and you wake to hear a shower running and someone in the kitchen, you assume they’re making breakfast. Groaning, you stretch your limbs and sit up, looking around the room and at your suitcases. You throw the blanket off and stand up to make your bed. You spend a little bit of your time cleaning the room and then make your way to your suitcases to pick out a pair of clothes so you can shower. You had a big day planned and you hope you get it all done.
_
As you and Steph were clearing the table, having just ate breakfast, you fell into an easy conversation about the game tomorrow, to which you would be attending now that you and Freddie have worked things out, and as you went to throw the rest of the garbage away she asked you if you wanted to join them and check out a few shops downtown. Thinking about it, you shook your head, “Thanks but, I actually have a few things to do today.” You smiled at her, she looked up, “Oh okay, do you want to use my car, we’ll be taking Mitchie’s.” Unsure of her suggestion, you shrugged, “I couldn’t ask you for that, I already asked for too much.” She waved you off, continuing to push the chairs in, “It’s no problem girl, so long as you put gas in, it’s fine.”
After agreeing that you’ll for sure fill it up after you’re done using it, you both nodded and she stopped you before you walked out, telling you that she put some of your clothes in the wash and they should be ready to be thrown in the dryer.
You nodded once more, thanking her, and walked down the hall into the laundry room they had, moving your clothes into the dryer and looked to see she had a basket full of her and Mitch’s clothes, waiting to be throw in. Since she had done some of your clothes, you picked it up and you put them in the wash, putting in detergent and turning it on. Putting the empty basket back on the shelf you looked down, seeing you were in sweats and a tank top. Chewing your lip, you decided this outfit was good enough and just opted for asking Mitch if you can borrow one of his sweaters, you didn’t need to dress up for where you were going anyways.
Coming out of the laundry room you met with Mitch, who was now carrying his keys, phone, and wallet, “Oh hey, do you think I can borrow one of your sweaters? Mine-” He cuts you off before you can finish, already turning around to re-enter the bedroom, “Of course, here...”
He comes out as fast as he went in and hands it to you, “Where to?” he asks. You take it and slip it on, “Well, actually I need to go and see my parents.”
Nodding his head, his mouth made an ‘o’ shape, “Ohhh, I see, alright, have a safe trip there and back, we’ll see you later.”
Telling him the same, you take Steph’s keys and go to slip on your shoes, walking out just as they’re pulling out of the driveway. Waving, you jump into Steph’s car, buckling up and taking the time to know the controls, then backing out of the driveway.
__
It’s been about an hour and you’re just getting to your parents, parking in front thinking about what exactly you were going to say to your parents. Of course, you couldn’t start with anger and shouting, you had to handle this like an adult, because that’s what you were, whether they believed it or not.
After a while you took a deep breath and opened your door, stepping out and making your way toward their front door. You didn’t even get a chance to knock before your mom had opened it, giving you a smile that was filled with sympathy, “Oh my baby, we saw you get out of your car, come in.”
You kept a straight face as you took off your sandals and walked into the living room, seeing your dad sitting on the couch. “We need to talk, mom can you sit down please.”
Standing in front of your parents you tried to find the right words, that is until your father spoke, “Did he leave you sweetheart? I knew it, he hurt you, and-” You didn’t let him finish, “Oh please dad, don’t even finish that sentence. You and I both know why he left, and it wasn’t because you were right, but rather the opposite.”
Your mom stopped you, “Don’t speak to him like that Y/N, we are your parents.”
You shook your head again, “Just because you’re my parents doesn’t give you the right to choose who I love. You two are supposed to be my biggest supporters, and you can’t even do that. How do you think this made me feel, how do you think I felt when you were accusing the love of my life of all those things? I can assure you I didn’t feel so great. It hurt me deeply to hear those things come from you. Yes, Freddie left me, but it was because we go through this every day, we get hate for our relationship from everybody but his family, and his teammates. We thought maybe you two would support us as well, but you’re no better than everyone else. He left because he was hurt, he told me that it wasn’t fair to me if we continued to see each other, he told me that he didn’t want to hurt me.”
“Smart guy...” Your father mumbled.
You rolled your eyes, “You know what? Everybody keeps telling me what to do, how to feel, and when to feel it, but no one bothers to actually ask what I want or how I feel, everyone just assumes. Now, I’m here to tell you exactly what it is that I want, and I want him. I want Freddie in my life, I need him in my life, because he loves me, and I love him just as much, if not, more. He makes me happy, the happiest I’ve ever been, I thought that was enough for you guys to like him. I thought that’s all you ever wanted for me; to find someone who makes me happy and loves me for me. Maybe I’m wrong, but you’re not going to stand between us again, I won’t let you. So, whether or not you want to accept us, we’re still going to be together, because it’s Fred and I’s decision, not yours.”
Without waiting for an answer, you slip your shoes back on and walk out, hopping into your car and driving off.
__
Almost two hours later, and here you are parked in front of Mitch and Steph’s, you didn’t feel like going in yet. You blink and look at the gas tank, realizing you forgot to fill it up, sighing you sit back up and start the engine, backing up and driving toward the gas station, glancing at the time you debate on going for a drive around the area, or going to Freddie’s and telling him everything.
You’re not necessarily sad or angry, rather in a daze. Still processing the fact that you stood up to your parents, thinking about if you had done that in the first place, perhaps you and Fred would still be together right now, but that’s in the past now.
You did the right thing eventually and decide that this is just a lesson learned, for both you and Fred, that no matter what anyone says, you will have each other to lean on, after all that’s what relationships are about. It doesn’t matter if you recognize it immediately or not, a lesson is learned in one’s own time, and that’s why it takes some people a little while to see the picture.
Smiling at your revelation, you texted Steph that you would be back soon and would need some help with going back to Fred’s.
Turning the radio up, you nod your head and start to sing the lyrics, deciding to have a bit of fun and let out the relief you felt. The relief of finally taking control of your own feelings and decisions.
__
With a now-full tank and a bag of food, you’re getting out of Steph’s car and walking into their home. As soon as you open the door you see your stuff all ready to go, and Steph looks over from the living room, “Now that I think about it, it looks like we’re in such a rush to have you leave but I promise we’re not! It was so nice having you here, I just thought you maybe wanted to leave as soon as you got home.” She looks sheepish and you giggle, “It’s fine Steph, I get it. And I honestly can’t thank you both enough for helping not only myself but Freddie as well and allowing me to stay here while we were going through this.” You go to hug her, and she rubs your back, “Of course, it was no problem.”
Mitch helps you pack up and you all get into the vehicle, taking the familiar route to Freddie’s.
__
You knock on Freddie’s door and notice you’re more nervous than you thought. Before you can bail though, Freddie opens the door, smiling when he realizes it’s you, “Good morning Y/N, how are ya?” You roll your eyes and he let’s out a short giggle, “Can I come in Fred, please?” He nods and makes way for you to enter, shutting the door as you take off your shoes.
You cross his living room, turning around the face him and sit down, “I need to tell you something.” Freddie nods and sits on one of the stools he has at the little island in his kitchen, “Okay.” You take a breath, “I went to see my parents yesterday,” you saw him look down at his lap, but continued, “I went to see my parents because I needed to tell them what I thought of our dinner.” He looked back up when he realized where you were going with this.
“I’m not at all trying to disregard how you felt because that’s not in my right, and I’m not trying to bring this all up again, but I just need to tell you how I felt, because just like my parents Fred, you tried to assume how I felt and how I was going to feel in the future, so please just listen to me.” You took his silence as a continuation, “While we were at the dinner, and I was hearing those things my parents were saying about you, to you, it broke my heart. I didn’t like the way they were speaking to you at all, and I’m sorry that it took me so long to say something to them. As you were breaking up with me you kept saying that it wasn’t fair to me to feel trapped and you wanted me to live my life,”
Fred was listening to you intently, “I felt sorrow and guilt, it broke me to know that I could do anything in that moment and it wouldn’t have stopped you, I felt so helpless, like I wasn’t good enough to make you stay, but that’s not your fault. I knew what was going to happen and I didn’t stop it, but like I told myself after, that was in the past and I want to move on, but I feel like the only way to move on was to communicate with you how it affected me, so that we both know where we stand next time something like this happens, which I hope it doesn’t. I understand that what people say hurts you, and you feel like you’re too old for me or whatever, but until I tell you myself how I feel, then please don’t doubt yourself or this relationship.”
Freddie waited until he was sure you were done before speaking up himself, “I’m sorry that I didn’t take the time to see where your head was at during that time, and I’m sorry for not always knowing it, but I can promise that in the future I will always remember to ask you how you’re feeling about something and try my hardest to make decisions based on both of our considerations.” You nodded, and accepted it, because that’s all you needed, for him to try, and you would do the same.
“C’mere elskede.” He opened his arms and you walked into them, happy to be in his arms once more, “Freddie?” You turned to look up at him, and he raised his eyebrow, “Hm?” You smiled, “Can I move back in?” He let out a belly laugh, “Of course my love, let’s go get your stuff.”
Letting go and walking over, sliding on your shoes and opening the door, you looked back at him, “Well actually, my stuff is downstairs.”
He set his car keys back down, “What?”
#frederik andersen#frederik andersen imagines#Frederik andersen x reader#freddie andersen imagines#freddie andersen x reader#freddy andersen imagines#freddy andersen x reader#nhl imagines#nhl writing#nhl x reader#toronto maple leafs writings#toronto maple leafs imagines#toronto maple leafs#my writings
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💝 Mikiel
=> You felt like asking Mikiel out specifically on a date for Quadrants’ Day would be a bad decision, since he’d definitely turn you down if he knew your intentions. He’s always been the no-nonsense type, and a holiday about couples would certainly be a whole lot of nonsense to him, especially since the two of you aren’t dating. So, you nonchalantly asked if he would like to try out a new cafe you found. Surprisingly, he agreed.
=> You had arrived earlier than you had arranged so that you could grab a table outside, out of the way of everyone else dining. The cafe wasn’t too busy, but there’s still enough people around that he would complain about the crowd. Mikiel arrives on time, and as usual he doesn’t care for small talk.
H❄ve y❄ l❄❄ked ❄t the menu yet?
=> You say you had a quick flick through while you were waiting, and you were thinking of sharing an appetiser together because you’ve heard good things about the oysters here but you don’t think you could eat all of them. He makes a comment about not wasting food as he sits down and grabs a menu, which is a sign he probably won’t say no to sharing.
=> There’s a long silence while he flicks through the menu, and you worry that the nervous energy emanating off you might melt the box of chocolates you’ve hidden on your lap. Waiting for the perfect moment to give your gift feels agonising, especially when you know that he might get annoyed if you did it at the wrong time. Finally, a waitress comes over to interrupt the awkward moment. You state your order first, and then Mikiel finally makes his decision. He orders another appetiser and a main meal, but just as he’s about to pick a dessert you cut him off. “Don’t worry about dessert!” you say. The waitress looks confused, but she doesn’t get paid enough to argue with you or Mikiel, who is shooting you a rude look. She leaves quickly.
Wh❄t’s the pr❄blem with dessert? If I’m e❄ting ❄ut ❄t ❄ new c❄fe, then it’s ide❄l t❄ try e❄ch c❄urse t❄ ensure th❄t they excel ❄t everything they h❄ve t❄ ❄ffer. If they didn’t w❄nt ❄ny❄ne t❄ h❄ve dessert, it w❄uldn’t be ❄n their menu-
=> Before he can protest further, you plonk the box of chocolates onto the table and slide them over to him. You already planned out dessert, you say.
Huh.
=> He definitely didn’t expect that. You go on to elaborate that you did your research on the brand of chocolate and the menu items at this cafe and found that these chocolates were the far better option, so you’d rather he didn’t waste his money on a dessert that would be unsatisfactory. You’re honestly bullshitting, but he seems to buy it. You also state that you wanted to thank him for taking the time to come with you today, since you know he’s usually busy with work.
I d❄n’t see why ❄ gift w❄s necess❄ry, but, fine. I’ll t❄ke the ch❄c❄l❄tes.
=> He accepts your gift without any fanfare or recognition about the implication of receiving chocolates on this day. Which may have not been the reaction you wanted, but at least the interaction went smoothly.
=> The night passes without any issues, the food was fine (Mikiel did have a lot to say about what could’ve been better, but you thought you had a decent meal), and you had nothing else planned so he left shortly after paying the bill. You’re a little disappointed you didn’t get a gift back, but you expected that much.
=> … Until the next time you meet up, in which Mikiel returned the favour. Simply a polite gesture to acknowledge your gift, but it’s a gift nonetheless. You see that as a small progression in your relationship.
=> Two weeks later, you obtained: Expensive Brand Chocolates!↳ (Exactly what it says on the tin. An up-market brand you wouldn’t find in an ordinary store, which makes them feel special despite still being mass-produced. Contains an assortment of truffle chocolates with fancy-sounding flavours. There sure isn’t any knockoff Mars Bars or cheap fake strawberry fillings here, fellas.)
#mikiel giacho#oops these keep ending up being rly long omg#scrambledtrolls#asks#quadrants day drabbles
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The Forces of Nature || Ch.6
Pairing: Peter Parker x Superhero!Reader
Summary: “There’s this kid out there that can control the wind or something. I think she’s a great addition to the team. Let’s recruit her.”
SERIES MASTERLIST || PP MASTERLIST
Click the pictures for better quality
After creating the list, Peter immediately went to the compound to show the list to the rest of the Avengers. They approved of the list and teased Peter about step 7.
"Oooh, Peter's getting a love life." Scott teased and wiggled his eyebrows. Peter scoffed, but his face was slightly pink from blushing.
"No, I'm not ready for spider-babies. Please graduate college first." Tony said as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Anyway, as long as Queens isn't distracted by step 7, he can do it." Steve said as he gave the paper back to Peter. "Go and make us proud."
"Yes and you can't come back here until you've fulfilled step 1. Stop patrolling if necessary. We need all the information we can get: her attitude, her skills, or whatever random thing that can benefit this team." Tony said sternly as he looked Peter.
Peter nodded, "Yes, Mr. Stark. I'll do whatever I can."
For once in his life, Peter Benjamin Parker felt confident. Too confident. Starting today until he has the information he wanted, he'll be observing Y/N Y/L/N and what her deal was. It would be really easy because they have the same school. He was also glad that he could observe her after school. He was everyone's friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, after all
When he was still dating MJ, he was able to pick up her ways of observing people. At that point, he was thankful that they dated and he felt blessed. Peter didn't follow Y/N around, no. He didn't need to. They both have the same classes and they sat next to each other on each one.
"This'll be really easy." Peter whispered to himself when he went to school earlier than Y/N. He went to the classroom of his first class with Y/N and waited for her. Five minutes later, Y/N walked in wearing a simple casual outfit. She was wearing light brown pants that were slim fit and a white long sleeved polo shirt tucked in with the first two buttons unbuttoned. Her hair was up in a ponytail which was loosely curled on the tips of her hair. She had a little beige kerchief around her neck which was tied the side-tie western way. She had her classic white Keds on and that necklace she always seems to wear in whatever outfit she's wearing. Her bag was a simple white tote bag with only a few things in it. She looked cute.
"Hi, Peter." She greeted with a smile as she sat down next to Peter.
"Hi. Nice outfit." Peter complimented. She looked down at her outfit and looked at Peter shyly, "Thanks. I didn't really feel like dressing up today so, I went for a simple and cute look."
"It suits you." Peter smiled at her and winked. She blushed and turned away with a smile. Peter brought out his notebook and pen as he started observing her. He grabbed a book and started "reading".
At one point, Flash went up to Y/N to ask for some help which she gladly did. Peter thought she was only doing it so that Flash wouldn't bully her or she was only doing it because she had to and not because she wanted to.
'She'd probably roll her eyes when Flash leaves.' Peter thought to himself as he kept "reading".
To his surprise, Y/N didn't roll her eyes nor complain. In fact, she still had a smile on her face. It was as if she was glad to help Flash Thompson. Peter didn't get it at all. However, he wrote it down on his notebook to keep track.
Throughout the rest of the day, Peter noticed a lot about her. Maybe he was the only one to know or maybe others knew too, but Y/N seemed to not have any bad bones in her body. She was perfect. Too perfect and that scared Peter.
"How's Code O doing?" Ned whispered to Peter after the last class. Peter looked at him confused, "Code O?"
"Yeah! Code O."
"What the hell is Code O?"
"The 'O' stands for 'observation'; code observation = code o." Ned shrugged. "How's it going?"
"I got some of it written down. I'll have to do more, though." Peter said. "I'll try to observe her as Spider-Man so that it wouldn't be suspicious." He added quietly.
"That's a great idea, Peter!" Ned said loudly.
"What's a great idea?" MJ asked out of nowhere causing Ned and Peter to jump slightly.
"Don't do that!" Ned clutched his chest and slightly glared at her.
"But I love it." MJ laughed. "Anyway, Y/N here has something to say." She looked at Y/N and gently nudged her with her elbow. Y/N cleared her throat and looked at the boys with a smile on her face, "My birthday's coming up and Eunice told me to invite my friends. I, uh, I don't really have that much friends. I actually only have MJ, but she said that I could invite both of you. If you guys could come, that'd be really really awesome."
"Give us a time and place and we'll be there." Ned grinned. "How old will you be?"
"18." Y/N said. "I have to go now. I'll see you guys tomorrow and I'll tell more details of my birthday celebration. Bye!" They all waved her goodbye and Y/N walked away.
Peter closed his locker and said, "I have to go too. Bye guys!" He didn't give Ned and MJ the time to say goodbye because he was already running towards the exit hoping to get a glimpse of Y/N.
One thing Peter noticed after that night at Y/N's house was that he lived near her. He didn't notice it on the train and on the way there because he was busy talking to her and taking a peek at the book she was reading.
Thankfully, he was able to catch up with her and they got on the same train going home. Y/N didn't notice him, of course. Her nose was stuck in a book again and Peter was glad that it occupied her. It gave him time to really observe her. There was not much to know about her while she was reading.
When they got off the train, Peter walked a few feet behind her. It was a little far but near enough to still see her. Peter quickly turned to the alley he always changes at and began to change in his Spider-Man suit. He webbed up his backpack somewhere and quickly walked back out to the street. Y/N wasn't that far because she stopped to buy some fruits from the little shop nearby.
He quickly swung there and to make a nice entrance, he hung upside down on her left. He signaled the owner to be quiet and they did. Y/N was too busy picking out oranges and apples to see that a local, friendly neighborhood hero was hanging upside down next to her.
"I love apples." Peter said, startling Y/N. She jumped slightly and she turned to her left and smiled, "Hey, I know you!"
"Y-You do??" Peter was nervous. He was pale under the mask. 'Holy fucking shitballs. She knows who I am! She knows my identity!' was all he could think about.
"Yeah, silly! You're on the news." Y/N giggled. "Spider-Man!"
"Oh, yeah!" Peter chuckled in relief. "Yup, that's me! Your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man!"
"Yeah." Y/N nodded with a smile. "So, to what do I owe the pleasure, Spidey?"
"Oh, nothing. It's just that I always pass by here and I haven't seen you before. Did you just move here?" He asked.
Y/N shrugged, "Kind of? I moved here during summer. I'm in my last year of high school at Midtown."
"Midtown, huh? You must be a genius." Peter landed next to her perfectly and crossed his arms.
"Oh, no!" Y/N laughed and shook her head. "I'm not- I'm not a genius. Peter Parker is the genius, not me."
"Peter Parker?" He didn't know you thought of him that way.
"Yup! He's this really cute guy who's, like, super smart. He messes with me all the time, though. But that's okay. I forgive him every time."
"Why? Surely, he doesn't deserve that." Peter said.
"I know, but life's too short to hold grudges and not forgive. I love to give people chances." Y/N smiled sweetly at him- well, Spider-Man. "I admire you, Spidey."
"Aww, thank you!"
Y/N paid for her fruits and gave one apple for Spider-Man, "Here's one for you because you mentioned that you love apples. Think of it as a 'thank you' for all the trouble you went through just to keep everyone safe. Oh and don't listen to the Daily Bugle; you're not a menace."
Peter toyed with the apple for a bit and thanked her. Genuinely thanked her.
"I have to go now. Hopefully, I can see you around again." Y/N smiled and left. Peter stared at her as she walked away, kind of forgetting that the owner of the shop was still there.
"Don't let a girl like that walk away." The owner of the shop said. Peter looked at him and read his name tag, 'Stan'. Peter chuckled, "I don't even know if I like her. We just met, Stan."
That was a lie, but it was kind of true. Peter knew her, but Spider-Man didn't. So technically, they did just met.
Stan shrugged, "If you ask me, I think both of you were meant for each other. You look good together."
"U-Um, thanks... I guess. I'll see ya around, Stan!" He shot a web and swung to the rooftop of the shop. He ate the apple before swinging away.
"Hey Karen?"
"Hello, Peter."
"Do you know where Y/N is? You know, the girl I talked to earlier?" Peter asked, in hopes to find her.
"She's at home, Peter. Do you want the address?" Karen asked. Peter said, "No, thanks. She lives near me." He swung to her apartment and saw her bedroom window open. He could see her doing weird gymnastics stuff.
"She's flexible." Peter whispered to himself.
Observing her became Peter's routine. He didn't even notice that a month has already gone by and he already got the information he needed. As promised, he went to the compound after school with his list of observations. As usual, he was late... again.
"Next time, you'll buy donuts for the team when you're late." Tony said as he watched Peter take a seat.
"I'm so sorry, Mr. Stark. It's just-"
"Zip it." Tony said. "Where's the list?" Peter wordlessly passed the paper to Tony and Tony read it.
Occasionally nodding, he finished reading and passed it to Steve who read it with Scott. After that, Sam and Bucky read it. Then Nat and Wanda, Thor and Bruce, and Clint and Rhodey. Peter got the paper back and waited for them to say something.
"What exactly do you mean by 'a follower, not a leader'?" Nat asked with a raised eyebrow.
Peter gulped, "Well, the teacher asked her to be the group leader in one of our classes and she declined. In fact, she said that herself. I just wrote it down." Peter wasn't lying. He could vividly remember it.
"Really?" Wanda said. Peter nodded quickly and told the story.
It was math time and Mr. Jones formed everyone into four groups. Peter was the leader of group one, Cindy was the leader of group two, and Mike was the leader of group three. Mr. Jones smiled at Y/N, "Ms. Y/L/N! Are you in group four?"
Y/N nodded and politely smiled, "Yes, sir."
"Well then, I pick you to your group's leader!" Mr. Jones said.
Y/N visibly frowned and everyone saw that, "Um, excuse me? I'm so sorry, sir. But I have to politely decline your offer. It's nothing personal. It's just that I'm really not interested in being a group leader for anything. I think that I'm better off as a follower and not a leader."
"Oh." Mr. Jones frowned too. Y/N was one of his best students. "Well, I'm kind of upset, but I respect your decision. You could just be the assistant leader."
"I'd be glad to take that position." Y/N chuckled.
"See? She said it herself." Peter said.
"What about the 'doesn't put hands on the ground' thing? That's kind of weird." Scott mentioned as the others agreed.
"I'm not really sure, but when I asked her about it, she kind of froze." Peter trailed off.
"Hey, Y/N!" Peter said during gym class. Y/N turned to him and smiled, "Hello, Peter."
"I just noticed something." Peter said coolly. Y/N motioned for him to continue. "Um, why don't you put your hands on the ground? Like, why? I'm just curious."
Y/N froze and her smile dropped. She immediately hid it, though. She let out an airy nervous chuckle and said, "Oh, that? I, uh, I-I have this thing with, um..."
"With what?" Peter raised an eyebrow.
"With dirt?" Y/N said that sounded more like a question. She grinned and said, "Yes! I-I have this thing with dirt! I don't like dirt. I could only put my hands on the ground if there's a towel or something separating my hands from the ground."
"Oh... okay." Peter eyed her suspiciously, but brushed it off.
"I have a hunch that it has something to do with her powers." Peter said. "My Spidey senses are telling me that."
"Okay, then." Clint said. "These random stuff are so nature related."
"I know right!" Rhodey nodded in agreement. "Maybe our guess is right- maybe she can control all four elements. It's not that far-fetched if you think about it."
"That's true." Steve said. "Well, let's move on to the next step!"
"What's the next step?" Tony asked and looked at Peter.
"Step two is befriending her. I don't know how to do that and how close should we even be?" Peter asked.
"Close enough for you to bring her here and to your apartment." Tony chuckled.
"My apartment?!" Peter shrieked. "Why?!?!"
"That's what friends do, right? They invite them to their home?" Tony asked with furrowed eyebrows. "What was on your mind, Peter?"
Peter blushed and shrugged, "N-Nothing. I just wanted to make sure I heard it right."
"OH MY GOD. HE WAS THINKING OF SEX." Scott gasped and laughed.
"AHH, YES!! MATING SEASON IS UPON US!!" Thor said loudly. "The young spider boy will mate with his lady friend and they shall have spider babies!"
"Thor, no." Tony said sternly. "Trust me. All of us aren't ready for that."
"My apologies." Thor said. "It's mating season in Asgard at the moment. Asgardians make cute babies."
Peter's eyes widened as he looked at everyone now talking about sex.
"I remember my first time." Scott said. Clint nodded along, "Same here. It was awkward."
"I was once a playboy, so yeah. Eat that, bitches." Tony boasted.
"Can we- Can we talk about something else?" Steve asked as he cleared his throat.
"Why? A little shy, Cap?" Sam teased. "When was your first time?"
"I prefer not to answer that." Steve said sternly. Everyone laughed except for Peter.
"Oh my god. What have I gotten myself into?" Peter asked himself.
"Because you love us, silly." Wanda said and chuckled before joining the conversation. Peter smiled to himself as he looked at everyone having a laugh and sharing their first times.
"Yeah." Peter said softly to himself. "I do."
* * * *
yeet his recruiting is starting
𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @myblueleatherbag @harryismysunflower @buckys-little-hoe @justanothermarvelmaniac @itstaskeen @sandystoriess @heeeyitskay @slytherin-chaser @quaksonhehe @yaya4302
𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @marvelousell @justasmisunderstoodasloki @rubberducky-jrr @petersholland @osterfieldnholland @miraclesoflove @god-knows-what-am-i-doing @perspectiveparker @hollands-weasley @itstaskeen @call-me-baby-gir1 @the-panwitch @iamaunicorn4704 @chloecreatesfictions @holland-styles @halfblood-princess-505-deactiva @spidey-reids-2003 @herbatkazmiloscia
#peter parker#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker fanfic#peter parker fic#peter parker x reader#peter parker x y/n#in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh
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