#also peter's lips move so weird but he literally only says 'yes'

[vanmarkus]

#in which Hannibal is a comedy ✧ 2/?

[deathofacupid]

right next door // part two | peter parker

summary: summary: you move in right next door to a cutie, problem is, he isn't much of a talker. or anything at all. but it's okay, because you're dead-set on getting him to warm up to you.

warnings: none, maybe cursing?

pairing: post-nwh!peter parker x fem!bubbly!reader

word count: 2.0k+ words

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you yelped, and in panic, threw down the dish towel onto the fire, hastily trying to get rid of it. you nervously glanced up at the alarm, sighing in relief when it didn’t go off.

well, that relief?

it lasted two seconds.

the loud blaring sound made you jump, and you whined.

“are you kidding me? you have to be kidding me. seriously, i mean, it’s my first freaking day here and i’ve already messed it up. everyone’s gonna freaking hate me. i’ll have neighbors that hate me! and then they’ll kick me out and arsenate me and-”

you cut yourself off, realizing that you had to get out of the apartment.

“screw you, stupid oven!” and for good measure, you threw the measuring cup at it, only slightly wincing at the loud bang.

sighing, you exited the flat, dreading what was yet to come. there were already people out in the hall, cursing and grumbling under their breath. you paused in front of the elevator before realizing that wasn’t going to pass. you slipped into the crowd that was already down the stairs, checking the time on your phone.

you didn’t bring anything else but that, knowing that it wasn’t an actual fire.

you know because you’re the one who set it off.

it was 10:47pm, so not everyone had been sleeping, but there was also a large chuck of people who were.

several people were dressed in their pjs, including yourself. all you had on was a black satin shirt, paired with matching shorts.

…which were definitely short.

you tugged them down as far as you could, biting down on your lips. you were on the literal verge of a mental breakdown. how did everything go so south, so fast?

were you really that incapable of taking care of yourself?

you needed to be more responsible, you thought.

you exited through the front, and the cold air hit you like a brick, making you shiver. to say it was cold outside was an understatement.

it was absolutely freezing.

blowing out breath, you watched as the white cloud dissipated. out of the corner of your eye, you spotted peter. mustering up all the courage you could, you walked over, hugging your sides to warm up.

“um, hi. again.”

he looked over at you, tilting his head slightly. your heart was racing, thudding against your ribcage so loudly you could hear it in your ears.

you held your breath, afraid that he’d hear your racing heart.

no, you scoffed in your head, that’s impossible.

“hey,” his voice was slightly raspy, mussed with sleep.

you shivered again, but not just because of the cold. your brows knitted in guilt, you must’ve woken him up as well.

“some idiot, huh?” you blurted.

“what?” he asked, recoiling slightly, as he straightened up.

“who bakes cookies this late?” god, you needed to shut up. now.

“uh, cookies?”

“well, you know. you can start a fire by baking cookies,” you stammered, trying to amend what you’d already said.

“yeah. i guess.”

you rubbed your arms harder, watching the firemen inspect the building.

“here,” you turned to see peter thrust something towards you. squinting, you realized it was a jacket.

“oh, no, it’s okay, really.”

“you’re cold,” peter said bluntly.

“yes, but-”

“just take it. you can return it later if it’ll make you feel better.”

“are you sure?”

“if i wasn’t sure, i wouldn’t be giving it to you.”

“oh, um, okay. thank you.” reluctantly, you slipped it on.

it smelled like pinewood and… peter, you supposed. you clutched it closer, inhaled the scent. was it weird that you instantly felt so comforted?

“it’s not a biggie.”

you smiled at him anyways, and he quickly looked away.

one of the firemen walked up to the crowd, throwing his hands up. “we’re good. just some dunce set it off. no fire or anything.”

you forced out a laugh, “yeah. what a dunce.”

waking alongside peter, you went back up to your room. standing in front of your room door, you smiled softly at him, no less bright than the one before.

he pulled out his keys, and you opened your mouth, “have a goodnight peter. sleep well.”

this time, he looked at you. for the first time, he actually held eye contact.

he really looked at you.

“you too,” peter murmured, before slipping into the darkness of his room.

-

if you were being honest, you weren’t sure if he liked you or not. truly, you couldn’t tell. last night, and he didn’t even really do anything, but it seemed like there wasn’t pure annoyance in his voice.

that was a start, right? i mean, that had to count for something? right?

right?

probably. most likely? you didn’t know.

honestly, you didn’t know anything when it came to him. you were trying to talk to him, but he kept brushing you off.

oh, well. you’d make it work.

you had dough left over from last night, and you really wanted to put it to use. “i can’t waste it,” you murmured, biting your lip. “but, god, i don’t need a part two of last night. that would be terrible. there goes any hope of peter freaking parker liking me back. as a friend, duh. for now. maybe.”

pulling it out of the fridge, you grabbed some cookie cutters and a baking pan. you clipped off the top of the tupperware box, tearing off a small piece of dough. it tasted like home.

you’d used the same recipe as your mother, in hopes that it would cure some of your homesickness. but standing here with raw chocolate chip dough in your stomach, you felt rather opposed to that.

sure, you didn’t have the best relationship with your family, but that didn’t mean you didn’t love them.

you did.

they were overbearing, and that was alright. they were just more careful given… given what happened.

it was reasonable. after all, you were all they had left now.

“nope. no. think happy thoughts. we think happy thoughts.”

no matter what though, you couldn’t help but reminisce about the times when you’d get scolded for eating the dough uncooked. you and… her.

“happy thoughts, y/n. ohhh-kay. where are those instructions?”

you didn’t really want to do this, but you also did. and didn’t (you had serious ptsd from that incident). after being indecisive a bit longer, you decided to make the cookies. hopefully, you wouldn’t burn them this time. first, you preheated the oven.

“okay, okay, i got this.” you glanced back at the phone, just to make sure you were doing this right. grabbing a rolling pin, you flattened out the dough (tearing off one more piece, just to… just to make sure it tasted the way it should. [it did.]). you picked up a cookie cutter before pressing it into the dough, sliding it around a bit to make sure it went all the way through.

you repeated the action a few more times, and then peeled away the excess. doing the same with what was left, you stepped back and admired your work, feeling confident.

“oven time!” sliding them in, you shut the door. you picked up your phone once more, setting a timer for 15 minutes.

maybe you could trial and error it?

since you had some time, you decided to get ready. you planned on giving peter the freshly baked cookies, and you didn’t want to show up in ratty, old pajamas.

you opened your closet, humming. you weren’t planning in going outside, so perhaps you could throw on a casual dress. filing through the racks some more, you settled on a light blue dress, once with short, puffy sleeves.

it was casual, but it was cute casual. you slipped it on, putting on some light makeup and brushing your hair. by the time you were done, you thought it looked quite presentable. you grabbed a random jacket from the corner of the bed and threw it on.

you moved back into the kitchen, checking in on the cookies. sure, they seemed a little misshaped, but they looked almost like how your mother used to make them. they were a soft, golden-brown at the edges, the chips melted into soft circles of black. you put on an oven mitt and pulled them out.

hesitantly, you picked one up and took a bit of it.

“it’s… not bad? it’s not terrible.”

and it wasn’t. it tasted relatively like one’s that would be made at home. “…kind of.”

oh, well. you didn’t have anything else to give to peter, so why not?

you grabbed the tupperware and set the dessert inside carefully, trying to fit them all in (except for a few for yourself). taking a deep breath, you swung the door open, locking it behind you. actually, you weren’t sure why you locked it, you were literally walking two feet away.

“new york is getting the best of me,” you muttered. new york was also getting you to talk to yourself more often.

it was deeply off-putting.

you paced for a couple minutes outside of his door, contemplating what to say. “hey, peter. you’re hot and i wanna smash you, but i need to have some courtesy first.” you paused.

“yeah, no. what about ‘i really like you and i have the biggest crush on you, despite the fact i don’t know you at all, but i need some friends before i totally lose it and i need you.’?”

you groaned, “that’s definitely worse. y’know what? i’ll wing it. i did improv in freshman for, like, three months. i’m basically a pro. how hard can it be?”

you inhaled and, after a moment, knocked. there was some shuffling and crashing on the other side, and instinctively, you leaned into the door, pressing your ear to it. not even a second later, the door opened and you went tumbling into someone.

well, not someone.

peter.

if it weren’t for him catching you, you would’ve face-planted. his arms were around your waist, and your hands were pressed against his chest. he smelled… like peter.

it was silly to describe it like that, but he had a certain comfort.

it took you a moment to process what just happened, but once you did, you pulled away quickly. “oh my gosh, i’m so sorry! i didn’t mean for that to happen at all!”

he raised an eyebrow, “i doubt you would.”

“um,” you dropped your eyes to the box, sighing in relief when it hadn’t opened when it hit the ground, “i just,” picking them up, “-here.” okay, so improv was harder than you thought.

you thrusted the cookies into his chest.

“cookies?”

“yes, uh, yeah… like a… thanks for being my neighbor?”

“i didn’t have a choice in the matter.”

“oh. right. okay, how about… thanks for the jacket?”

“the one you have on currently?”

“what?” you looked down, and as soon as you did, you turned bright red. “i honestly had no clue i was even wearing this! i-i just grabbed a random one, and y’know, i didn’t look-”

“relax. it was an observation.”

“okay. uh, okay. i’ll get this washed.”

“like i said before, no biggie.”

you fiddled with your ring, pressing your lips together.

“i thought you burned the last batch.”

you looked up, “sorry?”

peter shook the box lightly, “the last batch of cookies. didn’t you burn them?” there was a ghost of a smile on his face, and you felt your heartrate pick up.

“i don’t…?”

“i could hear cursing and a buncha noise. thin walls. and… you weren’t so subtle ‘bout it last night.”

“oops. sorry.” you rubbed the back of your neck, “that was me. sorry again. really, especially if you were sleeping. i’m seriously so sorry about that.”

“it’s fine. i wasn’t sleeping.”

when you glanced at his face, you saw how he looked torn. like he really wanted to say something, but he didn’t. “uh, thanks for these.”

“of course!” you winked at him playfully, “and if you ever need anything, i’m right next door.”

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@whatsupstark @ell0ra-br3kk3r

[angelyuji]

I also love Yan!Spiderman, there will never be enough content for him ! Can I request a headcannon ? Or a blurb, whatever you prefer ? I love the amnesia trope, like the reader having long-term amnesia after an accident or whatever and yan!Spiderman swooping in, saying they have been dating for months... You may get suspicious of how flustered he gets but he knows so much about you, he can't be lying, right ? 😚

17+

cw// stalking, non-consensual picture taking, kind of kidnapping, familial neglect, car accident caused by superheroes, non-consensual kissing, non-consensual touching, forced hugs, lying, manipulation, “gatekeep, gaslight, girlboss” energy, implied murder, peter being a crybaby to guilt trip you, idk peter being gross and pervy and being a liar, toxic relationship (kind of because you’re kinda not aware of the fact that he sucks and he’s lying)

· OMGBESTIE sorry i just absolutely ADORE the amnesia trope in yandere fics GHJKJHGF

· it’s just so perfect *chef’s kiss*

· anyway

· you got into accident that totally not caused by peter…yeah, it was totally definitely the criminal’s fault …

· but i mean, why were you driving in the middle of a villain attack anyway? oh, you had to go to work?...so??? peter didn’t give you the ok?????

· right, so he’s tossing cars and trying to bring justice (or something like that) and he saw you coming, but alas, he's too late

· you see something hurtling towards your car as you stop at a red light. you squint your eyes, “oh. ha, that’s a car…wait”

· peter was only a couple feet away when he sees the truck he threw slam against the hood of your car, crumpling the hood like it’s made of aluminum foil. time moves in slow motion as peter tries to reach you. out of reflex, peter shoots his webs to move you from impact. he can feel himself move, but his mind shuts down. when he regains consciousness, you’re in his arms, passed out, but seemingly unscathed. he feels relief, then fury. peter barely noticed when the paramedics came to move you out of his arms. he turns to the villain, his whole body shaking, and launches himself at the man.

· you end up in the hospital for a brain injury that left you in a coma and peter literally never left your side. he came every day and stayed by your side until visiting hours were over, and came into your room at night as spiderman after patrol.

· the hospital staff saw him so much that they assumed you were both in a relationship, so when you woke up at night during his patrol hours, they called him first.

· they called your parents after…weird, i know

· “how do you feel?”

· “fine, i guess. tired, surprisingly” you chuckle dryly and the doctor smiles.

· “fine is good. what’s the last thing you remember?”

· “…um….i can’t… I don’t-”

· “hey, it’s okay. take your time.” the doctor tries to be reassuring, but you feel panic bubble. what’s going on, why can’t you remember what happened? what’s happening to you? your breathing turns rough and the air feels thicker as you seem to remember less and less of what you should know. all of a sudden, two arms wrap around you and pull you into them.

· “it’s gonna be okay” they mumble into your hair as you cry into their shirt.

· peter and the doctor eventually figured out that you were missing 4 years of your life. the 4 years that you’ve lived in queens, to be exact.

· peter realizes exactly what he has to do when the doctor pulls him and your family aside to explain the situation

· (they had asked him who tf he was and he, in a panic to not be kicked out, said y’all were dating)

· he offers your family a way out, a way to not take the stress of taking care of you, by letting him take care of you

· “i love them. i can’t lose them and i won’t lose them, so please, let me take care of them”

· honestly, your family was lowkey relieved that peter offered to take care of you, not even remembering that you have never mentioned this man in any conversation (who has amnesia now??)

· peter would go into your room and tell you that you’re going home with him

· “what? what about my family?”

· “they’re okay with it. they have a lot going on and, as your boyfriend-”

· “boyfriend? i’ve never seen you before in my life?”

· “no! no, we started dating when you moved to queens!" at your blank stare, he lowers his head slightly and you see tears fall, "i wish you would remember”

· peter will pull out his pictures of you saying stuff like “then how do i have these pictures?? hmm????” and fake crying to make it seem like he was your grieving boyfriend

· he’ll be constantly mentioning the fact that he’s your boyfriend to you and to others (at some point, ur confused on whether he’s trying to convince you or trying to convince himself) “as your boyfriend’ “your boyfriend” “i love being with you and going on dates haha yk since im your bf”

· he’ll make up different stories from places he’s seen you. if he stalked you while you were walking at the park, he’ll say you both went on walks often. if you went on picnics by yourself often, he’ll say you constantly had picnic dates. had a fun day at the arcade? more like, you had fun day at the arcade with peter!

· peter’s smart, he uses these events as a way of tricking your brain into thinking that each memory you recover of these moments are just moments that are missing him, and eventually, he’ll start appearing in memories

· peter would take you to his apartment and absolutely REFUSE to let you leave, he’ll have an excuse ready to make sure you can’t leave your new home

· “the doctor said you shouldn’t move too much”

· he’ll make you sleep in the same bed as him, go on dates with him, hug and kiss him like “you used to do” with the excuse of “the doctor said you should do things that you used to do before the accident to start remembering everything”

· …riiight

· “are you coming to bed?” you lay in his bed, waiting for peter.

· “i-i sorry, yes, I-” peter stumbles on his words as he stands by the bed.

· you sit up in annoyance, “peter, you said we slept together. what’s wrong?”

· peter turns bright red, “no! nothing’s wrong! it’s nothing, i-i’m coming to bed in a sec.” you lay back down and soon you feel him crawl into bed. you turn your back to him, but peter pulls you closer to him and start leaving kisses down your back.

· “what are you doing.” you whisper into the darkness. his small touches feel foreign on your skin and your body itches to move in disgust.

· “i’m helping you sleep. uh-before, i helped you fall sleep like this, maybe this’ll help you remember” peter pushes his head into the crook of your neck and holds you closer, his fingers grazing under your shirt and feeling your stomach.

· you try to move away without panicking, “maybe, we’re moving too fast? i kinda need some spa-” you feel peter freeze.

· “do-do you not love me anymore?” you feel peter’s tears before you hear his sniffles, “i didn’t want to push you, but i just missed you so much and i thought that you were starting to remember how much you love me.” his sniffles turn to sobs and you start feeling guilty. you push your discomfort away and let yourself get pulled into his warmth.

· “no, it's fine. just don’t, you know, cry please.” you press your lips into a thin line and sigh as peter stops sniffling and hums in content.

· he’ll guilt you into doing what he wants with tears and sobs about how he misses “the old you”

· funny, considering the fact that this mf basically made up his entire relationship with you because he’s literally psychotic

· your relationship would be seemingly normal too, except that all of the friends that talked about how they’ve never met peter before your accident went missing…huh, definitely no connection there…

· but by the time they inform you of their concern, it is already months after your accident and peter would have already made you believe that you were dating

· in peter’s mind, you’re everything and more than he imagined, even though you barely know him, he knows you so well that it’s easy for him to make you believe that you’re together.

· peter would tell he’s spiderman once you’ve stopped resisting him to make sure that you won’t search up your accident and see that spiderman was involved

· the only way for you to break from peter’s grip on your mind is for him to accidently confess that he’s lied to you

· and that’ll happen, peter may be good at lying, but during a fight, he might let it slip

· “I TOLD YOU NOT TO TALK TO THEM.”

· “they’re my friends, peter. you can’t stop me from seeing them.” you roll your eyes when peter’s face crumples. “ugh, peter, stop with the guilt-tripping. your fake tears don’t work on me anymore.”

· peter’s face turns cold, “your friends are liars and they’ve been trying to break us up since the accident. all they say when they see me are lies.”

· you keep a straight face, “well, i know it’s a lie, so you don’t have to act like this.”

· “but-but what if you start believing them? what if you realize that you can do better than me? what if you remember everything? what if they make you break up with me? wh-” peter turns to you and sees you frozen in place. he moves towards you and pulls you into a hug, but you stay stiff.

· “what do you mean “remember”?” you whisper and peter’s eyes go wide. silence fills the room as peter says still.

· “well, shit”

-

[lovelybarnes]

bunny- p. parker

pairings: peter parker x reader, mom!natasha romanoff x reader, dad!tony stark x peter parker warnings: i didn’t know how to end this, so bad ending and cursing about: the chronicles of peter parker and y/n romanoff (this is a birthday present for my dearest emma) a/n: so i wanted to do lions. but i figured, why and how would y/n get a lion? so i ditched that idea and i hope that’s okay. also, i have no idea how to take care of bunnies or if you can even foster them? but it’s fine please go along with it

@emmastarz

the little red wagon you’re dragging squeaks, and you gently shush the kennel on top of it, tugging on the blanket that threatens to fall off and reveal what you’re keeping hidden. the soft noises don’t stop, though you can’t blame them with the surprisingly uneven floors of stark industries.

seriously, what’s up with that? isn’t stark a genius billionaire? you think to let him know when you see him next, distracting yourself from the fact that you’re doing something you’re definitely not supposed to. your mother will have your head if she finds out, so you swear to yourself that no one will find out.

you realize your oath isn’t particularly easy to keep, as keeping anything from the avengers is difficult. keeping things from the black widow herself, however, is nearly impossible. the key word is nearly, because her magnificent daughter (aka you) is the exception, even more cunning than her. her who is currently waiting outside your room, making going in there to hide like you planned out of the question.

so, you hide, trying to figure out where you’re supposed to go now that your only feasible plan has been left useless. you’re behind an absurdly large plant, looking at the rooms around you and attempting to remember which one belongs to someone who won’t ask questions.

“what are you doing?” you hear suddenly, flinching and turning with a jump, relieved to only find your boyfriend in front of you, holding a glass of water with a concerned look on his face. “shh!” you demand, grabbing his arm and pulling him closer. “don’t make a noise,” you whisper, his eyes growing wide, “are we under attack? my suit is in my room-”

“your room!” you repeat in a relieved whisper, remembering that peter’s room is literally three feet in front of you, inviting and away from the wrath your mother will surely rain upon you. “come on, we have to get to your room, carry this,” you motion to the wagon, “don’t make a sound.”

“why do i have to-” “super strength,” you remind, “for one, and two- if you don’t, my mother will kill me. then you, for being in the same vicinity as me.” peter pauses, a grimace going over his face, surely remembering how terrified he is of your mother, and picks up what you asked without another word, following you into his room as silently as spiderman and a trained spy can.

you lock the door once you’re inside, calling out to friday to soundproof the room and not let anyone in. “what are you doing? what is this? it moved,” peter complains in disgust, putting down the wagon. you roll your eyes, carefully putting the crate down next to it. “it’s nothing. i just need to get to my room so i can keep them there and no one will ever know.”

peter’s eyes bulge out of his head, “them? who is them?” he questions frantically, walking over to the crate, ready to pull the blanket off before you stop him. “the less you know, the better,” you say ominously, patting his wrist in your hand. “what?” he asks, voice squeaky. he backs away and you turn your back on him, heading to his desk to charge your phone, “just, it’s better if you don’t know, because-”

“are these rabbits?” he gasps loudly, making you turn around quickly to see him holding the blanket. you slap lightly at his arm, not that it does much to his enhanced self, “peter!” you whine, “i told you not to look!”

“they’re rabbits! why are you sneaking rabbits around the compound?- jeez, how many of them are in there…” peter trails off, trying to count the tiny wiggly things with his eyes, and failing each time they move. you sigh when he looks back at you with wide, questioning eyes. “i- it’s just-”

the exact reasoning seemed a lot more logical at the animal center where you picked them up half an hour ago, but as it rests on your tongue now, it’s difficult to make something rational out of it. “the animal shelter was at capacity- i- there was really no other option, aren’t avengers supposed to help or something?” you answer, tone questioning by the end of your sentence.

“alright, that’s… not a bad excuse, why are you hiding?” peter points out, looking back at the small kennel filled with sleeping bunnies. “well, it’s not really the first time i’ve done this. you know the dogs we have? candy and star?”

peter nods, “well, i kind of did this with them. it started out with fostering but then we just fell in love and we ended up adopting them, then it happened again with the ducks, and again with a cat, and at one point it became kind of implied that i wasn’t to bring home any more stray animals because we’re kind of stretching it already.”

you panic at the look on peter’s face, and afraid he’ll change his mind about the words he spoke previously, you talk frantically again, “but their mom abandoned them and they needed help, and they’re so cute, look at them,” you urge, opening the cage to pull one out and showing it to peter. his face melts adorably, a small coo escaping his lips against his will. “it’s also just for one or two weeks. a few of them are already promised to go to some families, but they’re still too little, so they just need a place to stay for now.”

“and can you say no to this face?” you ask sarcastically, extending the bunny in your arms closer to peter’s face, then gesturing to the cage with your eyes, “to any of them?”

peter groans, his head slumping forward, “fine,” he gives in, and you cheer a little. “but i take care of them with you,” he requests. you nod, “yes! absolutely!” you grin, going to put the baby back in its kennel before peter stops you, “which means i also get to hold them.”

you laugh, gently placing the bunny in peter’s arms, adoring eyes watching his lips mutter how cute they are.

-

“we’re rabbit parents for two weeks,” he says an hour later, after your mom has moved from your door due to some expert distracting (a mission that came in before you had time to launch your genius plan: peter throwing himself down the stairs “accidentally”). you’ve set up the rabbit living space in your room, having read up enough on them to know what you need. the random unused closet tony insisted on giving you has come in handy, and with a lot of help from the manual he gave you on her, you figured out how to get friday to change the temperature to the necessary one for the babies. you’ve also sworn friday to secrecy, making sure not even tony himself can get the information out of her.

“we are rabbit parents for two weeks,” you agree, playing with a couple of them and watching peter, curls curlier and an easy look on his face. he looks so adorable, you can’t help the kiss you press against his lips. a red blush covers his neck as he kisses you back, giddy smile quirking the edge of his lips up.

-

you’re surprised when, by the next week, no one has found out about yours and peter’s little secret, even more so that no one has been told by peter’s big mouth. he’s coming by a lot more now, his previous rare sleepovers increasing largely. tony and natasha are getting suspicious, and as they watch you and your boyfriend sneak into your room, supposedly inconspicuously, they turn to each other. “is y/n pregnant or something? why has she been acting so weird?” tony asks.

natasha looks at him, “she’s always with your kid whispering and being alone in their rooms. whenever i tell your stupid robot to let me in, she won’t tell me anything. i thought it was state of the art?”

tony huffs in offense, “friday the ai,” he clarifies, earning an intense glare from natasha, “is state of the art, i don’t know what your daughter did to her, but she won’t tell me anything either.” natasha rolls her eyes, small swell of pride fluttering in her chest at your managing to keep stark out of his own technology before remembering what she’s angry at you for.“we need to go in there,” natasha states with finality, walking to your door. “i know, but i don’t want to risk seeing anything potentially scarring,” tony sasses.

the woman ignores him, shoving open your door to find both you and peter nowhere to be seen. she looks around, trying to figure out where you are and what the hell you’re doing.

meanwhile, you and peter are busy babbling at the bunnies, a lot bigger now, to notice the intruders in your room, not even seeing the notification friday sends to your phone. you’ve let your guard down after a week of been inconspicuous, which is stupid and very un-spy like of you. so you suppose you only have yourself to blame when the door to the closet bursts open to “what the hell are you two doing?” and “is it safe to open my eyes?”

[keanureevesisbae]

sugar sugar - the proposal

Summary: For their second year anniversary, Henry and Becky are going to Rome, Italy to celebrate. 

Sugar Daddy!Henry Cavill x Becky Kim (asian OFC)

Warnings: Slight Daddy kink

Wordcount: 2.5k

A/N: GUESS WHO’S GETTING MARRIED??? OUR FAVORITE COUPLE

Masterlist // Sugar Sugar Masterlist // Sugar Sugar the wedding Masterlist // 

September 23rd 8 p.m.

The sun in shining, the birds are chirping and the soft breeze brushes through my hair. This is Rome in September and I know that if I said to Henry I would want to go here every September, he’d arrange it for us.

Just like he did now, Henry would arrange the most beautiful presidential suite with a balcony, a jacuzzi and the softest bed you’ve ever slept on. Sometimes I’m afraid I’m getting too spoiled, but when I express my fears to him, he simply leans down, gives me a kiss and tells me I deserve it and should enjoy it.

To spend our second year anniversary in a city like Rome, is something I never imagined. I actually never imagined that I would ever spend an anniversary with someone. Not because I don’t have any faith in Henry and me, but more because I never thought I’d be in a loving relationship, long enough to spend these types of anniversaries together.

The two of us decided that the day we met, would be our anniversary date.

September 23rd. Two years ago we met. Two years ago he changed my life forever and I changed his.

Henry holds my hand tightly in his. ‘I love you,’ he says, kissing the back of my hand.

I chuckle. ‘I love you too, honey. It’s been two years since we’ve met.’

‘Yeah,’ he says, ‘time flew by.’

‘It sure did,’ I say to him.

‘Not only have I gained the best archivist Midnight ever had, but I also got a beautiful girlfriend and I can now say that I’m the boyfriend of a New York Times Bestselling Author with an extra book deal.’

Even after we spend so much time together and we know each other so well, I still blush around him when he hands out compliments like that. ‘That’s so sweet,’ I say. ‘Where are we going?’

‘A nice place I rented. It’s I think a few minutes from here.’

‘You rented an entire place?’ I ask him.

‘Just one floor,’ he says with a shit eating grin on his face, the one he has recently discovered when he shamelessly flaunts his wealth in my face. I want to roll my eyes, but seeing Henry this confident and cocky and happy, makes me laugh as well.

After our first anniversary, a lot changed for the two of us. I still work in the archives, but mostly because I liked it there and it gave me plenty of time to not only work on my first book, but also on my second one. The following February, two weeks before my birthday, my book got released and not long after that, I reached the number three on the New York Times Bestselling list. My book reached number three! My debut novel. It’s unbelievable. It’s all thanks to the magnificent job Roger and his team has been doing to advertise my book to the public. I was never on Instagram, because I didn’t have a phone that would allow it and when I met Henry, I didn’t really think about it anymore. But now, I’m officially on Instagram and while it’s a bit weird, I still really enjoy to see the beautiful fan art and the stories of the readers about what my book did to them personally.

I moved out of my first apartment, since I was hanging around Henry’s place most of the time anyway. I mean, his place has the private gym and we added a sauna to it, because he didn’t forget my joke from a while ago. My pink and pastel influences are shattered around his place now and in his home office, we placed another desk, so we could work together.

Yes, we are that type of couple.

Despite our age gap, I barely notice it in our day to day life. He is in such good shape for someone who is only two years away from hitting fifty and he is really up to date with trends and technology. I mean, call me digital illiterate, because he had to show me how Instagram worked. I don’t want to say he’s old (because it’s obvious he is older than me), but I thought that eventually I would notice the difference in age.

I don’t.

It’s just that sometimes he says something about his grayish hairs, how he isn’t in the best shape anymore and how he needs to watch his food, after a check up. Honestly, I don’t see his “bad” shape. I only fall more and more in love with him. Besides, the second he becomes a complete silver fox, is also the second I will jump him every chance I get.

‘Thank you for taking me to Rome,’ I say. ‘I can’t wait to travel to even more countries with you. I’m such a lucky woman. All those beautiful places in the world, right at my finger tips. Isn’t that amazing?’

‘It sure is.’

‘Is there a place in the world you want to see?’

‘Well, as long as you are there with me, I’d love any place. Besides, I did my fair share of traveling, I’ve seen a lot. It doesn’t matter to me.’

‘You don’t mind that I’m awfully inexperienced with traveling?’

He scoffs. ‘No, of course not. It makes the experience even better. That way I can show you all the beautiful places in the world and see your surprised face.’

We walk into a restaurant and the waiter escorts us to the elevator. We go up and we actually get out on the roof. My mouth falls open, before I squeal. ‘Honey, this is fantastic.’ I give him a kiss and the two of us walk towards the table. He helps me in my seat, before he sits across from me. He pours in some wine for me.

‘You like it?’ he asks.

‘Of course. Everything you arrange for me I love.’ I look over my shoulder, to see the waiter has left. ‘I love what you do for me, daddy.’

He bites his lip. ‘I’m going to sound like a broken record, baby girl, but I love it when you call me like that.’

‘I know.’ I look around, admiring the view and say: ‘Thank you for arranging this for us.’

‘I want the best for my baby girl,’ he says with a smile. ‘Only the best.’ He holds out his hand and I place mine in it. ‘You know, I sometimes can’t believe I actually met you.’

‘Why not?’

‘Well, when I signed up, I only did it because I didn’t want to be alone anymore. Never in a million years I expected myself falling head over heels with you, when the two of us were only supposed to have a sugar daddy/baby thing. But you were just amazing, kind and caring. Beautiful, considerate and funny. I remember when I first laid my eyes on you. I thought to myself: this could actually be it. This could be the woman I’ll fall for and for me to love endlessly.’

That… Is so sweet.

‘I kept thinking about every pro and con. While our personalities matched, you were a lot younger than I were. While I finally had someone who I can give the life she deserves, there is a possibility she’ll never see me as more than just a sugar daddy. It was difficult, because you were more than a sugar baby to me, though I tried to deny that multiple times. The relief I felt when you and I… That we have what we have. That you stayed when I needed you and vice versa.’

I smile. ‘Of course I did, silly. I have never felt this about someone ever before nor will I ever feel about this about anyone.’

Henry nods. ‘I want to spend the rest of my life with you,’ he says. ‘I want us to build a future together. I want to buy a house with you, have a dog and tons of kids with you, though it has to be an even number. But before we do that, there is just one thing I need to ask you.’

Henry gets up from the chair, searches his pocket and I see he has a blush pink velvet box in his hand.

Is this what I think it is?

‘My sweet Becky,’ he says, sitting down on one knee, ‘it’d be such an honor if you would become my wife, that you are gonna be mrs. Cavill. Baby girl, will you marry me?’

He reveals such a delicate and beautiful ring to me.

Maybe, maybe, I’m experiencing some shock. I knew that Henry would propose to me one day, he literally told me so many times that he’d propose, but now that it’s happening, I just can’t believe it.

‘Really?’

He smiles. ‘Really, my love. There is no one else in the world I’d want to spend the rest of my life with. You are the only one. My only one.’

I place my shaking hand in front of my lips. ‘Yes,’ I whisper. ‘Yes, yes, yes, a million times yes. I want to marry you, Henry.’

He takes the ring from the little box, before gently sliding it on my finger. I look at it for a few seconds, before I wrap my arms around his shoulders.

‘We’re engaged?’ I ask him.

‘Yes, baby, we’re engaged.’

I press my lips on his, as tears of joy and happiness drip down my face. I’m gonna get married.

‘Oh yeah, our Becky is engaged!’ I look over my shoulder to see Genevieve, Viola, Noah and Greg rushing up to me and is that Gino I see, with Peter from the boutique?

‘Show me the ring,’ Viola says and I hold out my hand.

Noah lets out a whistle. ‘Damn, mister Cavill.’

Gino gives me a big hug and two kisses on my cheeks. ‘Congratulations, darling.’

I can’t believe Henry flew out our friends to Italy, but it totally seems like something he would do. I bet he arranged a private jet for them and the best hotel.

‘We’re getting married,’ Genevieve shouts.

‘Technically, sweetheart,’ Greg says, ‘it’s Becky that is getting married.’

Genevieve rolls her eyes. ‘Well, Viola and I are gonna be bridesmaids and we’re going to plan a wedding. The ring is absolutely beautiful. Really, Henry, you need to help out Greg when he wants to propose to me.’

Henry chuckles, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. ‘I’ll help him out when the time is right, Gen.’ He kisses my temple and says: ‘How about we celebrate?’

✤ ✤ ✤

I keep staring at my ring, mainly because it’s the most beautiful thing I have ever seen and it’s mine. While Henry’s checking the locks, I’m already in bed. This ring still takes my breath away. It’s gorgeous and I bet it was expensive.

‘There she is,’ Henry says, as he walks in the bedroom in just his boxers. ‘My beautiful fiancée.’

‘I am sure it’ll take awhile before I get used to that,’ I say.

Henry steps underneath the covers and ushers me over. ‘But you’ll always be my baby girl,’ he says. ‘Even when you become my wife.’

I hum in content, as I nestle myself against him, in his strong embrace. ‘Just like you’ll always be my daddy,’ I whisper. I place my head on his thick arm, so I can look up at him and still stare at his handsome face. ‘We need to start planning a wedding. When do you want to get married?’

‘I don’t mind,’ he says. ‘We could even elope.’

‘We’re never going to elope,’ I say. ‘Don’t you ever say that again. I deserve a wedding. Back in juvie, both times, I’d envision myself getting married, buying a house, having a family and growing older with someone. I owe it to teen Becky to have a fantastic wedding.’

He chuckles. ‘Okay, we will not elope. What did you think about back then?’

‘A spring wedding outside,’ I say, ‘with pink blossom trees around us. A tent or a large cabin or something where we’ll get married and afterwards, people can dance, eat and talk to each other. A Photo Booth for people to make pictures on. Disposable camera’s on the tables and a photographer. My friends and their family are there, your friends. I want it to be intimate, but not too small, like maybe fifty to seventy people. I want a wedding dress on the tighter side, but I have never tried on wedding dresses, so I might be surprised. But I want to dress to have little illusion sleeves, a veil and a hairband with diamonds.’

Henry nods in approval. ‘Sounds lovely and that can all be arranged. What do you want me to wear?’

‘Champagne colored suit,’ I say. ‘The bridesmaids dresses could be in a pastel color. Okay, who am I kidding? I want those dresses to be pink.’

‘Of course.’ He lets out a content sigh. ‘We can arrange all sorts of things. Whatever you want for the wedding, it’s yours.’

‘And I want the date and each other’s names engraved in the inside of the ring.’

‘I love that.’ Henry gives me a kiss on my forehead. ‘A lot to plan, but also a lot to look forward to. I cannot wait to call you my wife.’

‘Oh, me neither. And then after that, we can start our life together as a married couple.’

‘At least four kids, right?’ Henry jokes.

‘At least,’ I say in all seriousness.

‘Why don’t you want an uneven number?’

I scrunch up my nose. ‘Because I come from a family of uneven number. I don’t want that. I know, it’s stupid, but…’

‘It’s not stupid, it’s understandable,’ he says. ‘So, for imaginary sake, let’s say you and I have five kids.’

‘Damn.’

‘Imaginary sake, baby girl, remember that,’ he snickers. ‘And then we have twins, making it seven.’

‘We’ll go for the eighth,’ I say to him. ‘Really, Henry.’

He laughs. ‘Wow, you’re quite something.’

‘You’re up for it?’

‘With you? Of course. I can’t wait to have multiple mini you’s and me’s running around to place.’ He pulls me closer and says: ‘You’ll be an amazing mother, I just know it.’

‘And you’ll be an amazing dad.’ I circle my finger around his chest. ‘Would you mind if I stopped working as your archivist and become a stay at home mom, who also writes?’

He shakes his head. ‘Of course I don’t mind. Whatever you want, I support you.’

‘You don’t think it’s weird?’

He frowns. ‘Why would I think it’s weird? Honestly, baby girl, if you wanted to become a career woman, I’d support it. If you want to become a stay at home mom, I also support it. No matter what you do, I’m your biggest supporter and fan.’ He gives me a sweet peck on my lips. ‘Don’t you worry about those things, okay?’

‘Okay,’ I whisper, already a bit more at ease. ‘You know, it has always been my dream to become a mother.’

‘Really?’

‘Yeah,’ I say. ‘It’s just that I figured I’d never meet someone who I wanted kids with. With the dysfunctional family I’m from, I wanted a partner who I could trust and rely on. And that partner is you, Henry. My future husband.’

✤ ✤ ✤

[autismvampyre]

Little Brother

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Summary: Peter Maximoff wakes up at the battle of Sokovia in another universe. Thankfully, he still has a family here.

Pairing: just some familial Maximoff fun

Warnings: guns, literal war, probably swearing idk i didnt check but i swear a lot, bad writing and thats it i think

A/N: I take no credit for this idea it was purely inspired by this post from @you-said-yes and they gave me permission to write it. I had a blast with this, I'm a sucker for the multiverse triplets. Oh and in this version I'm going with the story that Peter's Wanda is dead, cause thats just how i think of the story since shes never mentioned after DOFP.

Peter's POV

The first thing he remembered was running. He ran faster than he ever had before and he kept running for what felt like eternity until he woke up. In other circumstances, Peter would've brushed it off as just a bad dream, but that proved difficult considering he was laying on the ground covered in rubble. His head was pounding and he felt something warm and sticky near his eyebrow, pulsating from his forehead.

He tried to sit up and groaned, beginning to take in his surroundings. There were beaten up buildings lining the street in front of him, bricks laying scattered all around the ground. Peter had seen plenty of destruction like this; it came with the job of being in the X-Men. But this place was different. If not for the thin air and freezing cold, then for the fact that there were reminants of robots everywhere, some seemingly ripped in half. He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping it was just another dream.

"Wake up, Peter," he mumbled to himself

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of guns and screaming, alerting the young speedster. Without a second thought he got himself together and took off, trying to find the fight. He followed the sound of machine guns and picked up the pace when he felt the ground beneath him shake. It didn't take long until at the edge of the foreign city. He could barely believe his eyeswhrn he saw the fight. There was nothing weird about the fight per se, except for the fact that the city was flying.

Before the silver haired boy got the chance to question his sanity once again, a machine gun went off. He didn't fear the machines -- he could easily outrun them-- but there was a man holding a kid in the line of fire. They both looked utterly terrified and the man turned his back to the bullets, shielding the child with his body.

Peter went into super speed, and everything around him moved so slow, it looked like a still frame. The bullets were frozen in place and everything was deadly quiet, the sound being too slow to reach him. With the arrogance of a boy who'd outrun explosions, Peter casually walked up to the machine gun and poked the bullets out of the way, one by one. But not even halfway through his little charade, something moved in his peripheral. He tured to see a man, running to block the bullets with his body. His hair was so blonde it could be considered white, and his dark roots and facial hair revealed it was simply a dye job.

At the speed the silver haired speedster was going, everything should be practically still to him; yet this man was running. His steps were agonisingly slow, but still. Peter gawked as he realised what was happening. Another speedster. He had never met someone who shared his ability of super speed, and the excitement that bubbled in his veins was indescribable. Finally, there would be someone who understood him.

Peter turned to the bullets once again and removed them with ease. He didn't care to put on a show anymore, too excited to meet his equal.

Pietro's POV

He ran faster than he ever had before, faster than he ever could've imagined he could.

But he knew it wasn't fast enough.

Pietro Maximoff could outrun a lot of things, but a machine gun was not one of them. All he could hope was that his body would save Clint and the child in his arms. He was prepared to die, he had accepted it. At least he would die doing the right thing, though his heart broke at the thought of leaving Wanda.

His body tensed in anticipation for the bullets, but nothing came. The bullets were gone, and in their place was a young boy with goggles and silver hair. Pietro's confusion must've been painfully obvious cause the boy chuckled.

"You know, for a speedster, you sure are slow," he said, a grin spreading across his face. Pietro's confusion only grew at this statement.

"W-what?" His eyebrows furrowed at the silver haired fellow. "What happened- the bullets?"

"Oh the bullets? Yeah, I moved them. And I ripped apart the gun too while I was at it. Couldn't let you get filled with bullet holes," the boy said nonchalantly, as if it was the most normal thing on earth. He stretched his hand out to the older male. Pietro took it, at a loss for words.

"I'm Peter," the boy introduced. "Peter Maximoff." At those words, Pietro froze.

Maximoff.

"Pietro Maximoff," was all he could get out. Peters eyebrows furrowed at the name.

"How do you know my real name? No one calls me Pietro." Before he could explain however, Clint spoke up.

"Hey, you two. We gotta get to the helicarrier, Pietro you go get Wanda." At that, he took the child and brought him to the rest of them civilians. The two speedster were left staring at each other. After a few seconds of awkward silence, Pietro spoke up.

"Well, I have to go get my sister. You can go with Barton over there, then we can talk later, okay?" Peter only nodded, too deep in his own thoughts. That was all the confirmation he needed, so Pietro took off to get Wanda.

Wanda's POV

"Who is he?" She questioned her twin. A boy with silver hair had appeared mid battle and saved Pietro's life by stopped bullets. That wasn't the strangest thing about him however.

"I don't know," Pietro shrugged. "He says he's Peter Maximoff." Wanda gawked at him.

"Maximoff?" She asked in disbelief and her brother nodded. Her eyes turned to the mysterious Maximoff stood in a corner twiddling his thumbs so fast they looked like blur.

Wanda walked over to him and tapped his shoulder lightly, taking him out of his thoughts. He looked up with wide brown eyes. I know him from somewhere, she thought.

"Hi, I'm Wanda. You saved my brother today. I owe you everything, I don't know what I'd do if.." She didn't have to finish her sentence, he simply nodded.

"I'm happy to help, I lost my sister. I don't want anyone to go through that shit." His voice was low and broke slightly at the mention of his sister. Wanda's heart ached for him, and she wrapped her arms around the boy, surprising them both. He returned the hug as she mumbled how sorry she was for his loss.

Once they both let go, the boy started rubbing his neck anxiously. "I've been meaning to ask this but... where are we?" She eyed him to see if he was serious.

"We're at a safe place, outside Sokovia?"

"Sokovia?"

"Yes, Sokovia. You know, the city the flying city?" Wanda explained but the silver haired boy simply stared in utter confusion.

"I-I've never heard of Sokovia. Also, why was the city flying? How did I get here and who are you guys?" Peter's voice rose in panic, and he bit his lip as he awaited a response.

"I don't know how do answer you, but I'm Wanda Maximoff, the man you saved is my twin brother Pietro Maximoff. We're with the Avengers, who were fighting the evil robot Ultron who tried to wipe out humanity."

The boys eyes filled with tears at the mention of her name. And she realised from where she knew him.

Peter's POV

"Wanda?" He looked at the woman in front of him. She resembled his own twin, his Wanda, but she looked different. Something was off, but he couldn't quite place it. His wanda didn't have an accent, her hair was lighter; she was just different. Despite that, he pulled her into a tight embrace. Even if she wasn't the Wanda he knew, she was the closest to family he had right now.

"Wanda, is this real?" He asked, realizing the absurdity of the situation.

"Yes, it is. It's real, Peter." He squeezed her, not wanting to let go. Not when he finally got his sister back. Except it wasn't his sister, he reminded himself.

"I don't know whether to be sad or happy," he said, finally letting go. "Cause I'm finally seeing my sister again, but at the same time you not my sister. You're not my Wanda." He put his hands on his face. Wake up, Peter. To his surprise she didn't find him completely insane.

"You're not like my Pietro either, you're younger and..."-she paused, trying to find the words-"... just different. I can't explain it." He nodded in agreement. Something was off.

A blur of silver entered his vision and Pietro was beside them.

"What's going on?" He questioned upon seeing his siblings tear stained daces. Wanda smiled at him before looking to Peter again.

"I think we just got a new little brother."

the ending was a lil rushed sorry, hope it was still decent jdhdgdg

[lyallblacklupin]

His wish, My wish.

Remus realized after two years that it wasn’t a crush, it was love. He was going to have his love in his life by granting him his wish. And it was just loving him back.

Four-poster beds with their backs to the scarlet walls of the dormitory, a table and a chair spilling ink-blotched parchments, creating a happy mess, and a faint aroma of coffee and home. Something an eleven year old Remus Lupin had thought he would never get enough of, until one day.

One day when he was seventeen, something else was clouding most of his area of thinking. It was like a thick mist surrounding his mind, mixture of the scent of musky sweats and cigarettes. Then a certain vision gradually takes shape. Long hair. Damp, mostly. Thick dark eyebrows. Eyes, silver dissolving into a deceiving blue. Sharp grin with teeth glowing like pearls. The tiny creases near the corner of those eyes, a vivid twinkle lingering about him, making his presence more discrete.

“Remus…” And that voice. That silky youthful voice, which deserved to be savored with his closed eyes. With Deep and long breaths, inhaling every ounce of softness of it.

“Remus?” 

“Remus!”

He bolted upright from his resting position, and found a very confused looking Sirius. Parted lips, flushed cheeks on his bright and snowy skin. Remus swallowed down the lump that had formed in his gullet.

“Uh, Sirius?” He wanted to kick himself for being barely audible, but apparently, Sirius was staring at him. There was a strange tension between them, but then finally the other spoke.

“You were…smiling the entire time,” Sirius’ face was unreadable, “Were you daydreaming about someone?”

“What? No. I was…I didn’t know I was smiling…”

“Maybe, must be a hallucination.” Sirius replied stiffly.

Silence. Tension. Uncomfortable breathing.

“You wanted to say something?” Remus asked.

“Oh, yeah!” Sirius’ face suddenly lit up, “I was wondering if you wanted to come with me. I was going to the Astronomy Tower.”

Remus thought this was a very intimate question because Sirius would usually go to Astronomy Tower if he wanted to be by himself.

“You want me to?” He asked hesitantly.

“Yes.” Sirius grinned, and Remus was pulling himself from swooning into him, “I feel like ever since we have returned from Hogwarts, I think we haven’t had a chance to talk.”

“Talk?” Remus never intended to say that out loud, so internally he was cursing himself.

“Yeah, I mean not something specific, of course. Just you know hangout…” Sirius smiled coyly, and this was a brand-new smile. Remus witnessed something very different about him. Was he blushing?

“Yeah, I think I’ll like that.”

                                                       ----

That was not an exaggeration. Definitely not. The stars were luminous and more than millions in the sky. There was no moon, but Remus felt that their haven was illuminating by the shining stars. Their haven. Only theirs’. He looked at Sirius’ serene face, and he felt like he was drunk, even though they didn’t have any alcohol around them. Sirius turned his face to him. His eyes went slightly wide and, his mouth quirked up in an almost smile when he saw Remus staring at him.

“Hey…” He whispered. And a rapid shiver ran down Remus’ spine.

“Hi.” Remus whispered back.

“You are staring.”

“No.” He didn’t turn away his gaze.

“You are.”

“No.” Still not turning.

“You are.”

“No.”

A tranquil silence of two seconds.

“I love you.”

“No—what?”

Sirius didn’t look away, but his eyes were sad. Their faces mere centimeters away from each other.

“Why does that surprise you?” Sirius asked him, fake smile curling his lips.

“No, it doesn’t. I mean you love me like you love James, and Peter, right?” Remus didn’t move an inch, even though he wanted to. But then, Sirius did a very strange thing. He lifted up his right hand, his fingers coming near Remus’ face. He didn’t move away. It was more like, he couldn’t move away. It was like he was hexed to be grounded, literally.

Sirius’ slender fingers traced the bumps on his face. He realized that he was touching his scars. He was curious why Sirius chose to do that instead of answering his question. Maybe he didn’t have an answer.

He started humming. Or maybe he did have an answer, but chose not to say it.

“Remus…”

“Why are you calling me Remus?”

“Because it’s your name.”

“You call me Moony.”

“I do. Moony.” Sirius chuckled, and his breath hit Remus’ face, “You are so…”

“Weird? Daft? Stupid?” Remus suggested.

“I was going to say magical, but yeah you are so stupid.”

They both laughed together. They were sitting too close. Remus knew that Sirius was sad because this was the version of him he had never seen. He was not loud in this very moment, he was not reckless, he was not whiny, arrogant, self-centered, egoistic—

“I wish you never leave me.”

Remus thought he was hit by a something large and heavy. His heart took a fall. Falling in the pits of nowhere.

“What?” He asked under his breath because he was unsure if his vocal cord would help him scoop up words after what Sirius had said.

“I wish I could be around you all the time.” Sirius’ eyes were glistening. Remus could see the sky reflecting in those eyes. The stars sparkling in there. “I wish I could comprehend what I feel about you. I wish it was easy. I wish it didn’t have to be so complicated.”

“You wish for a lot of things.” Remus finally spoke, but Sirius laughed.

“Yeah, I guess. I shouldn’t.” The hint of smile was still there, but his gaze was now lifted up to see the stars again.

“Yeah, you shouldn’t.” Remus saw Sirius’ hands sitting in his own lap. So white and pink even under their dimly emitted haven. He picked it up, and heard Sirius gasp by the touch. He didn’t intertwine his hand with his. He just held it and covered it by his other hand. He watched Sirius. He looked so small and vulnerable, but so open and raw. This was how he looked. 

Remus was sure now in the moment, that he was the only one who had seen this Sirius. He didn’t know to do with him. He just wanted to make sure that he was loved, and NOT abandoned. He partly knew why Sirius wanted him to never leave. He wanted something. Something he was not sure Remus would ever give him. Meanwhile, Remus also wanted something. Something he was not sure Sirius would ever give.

Remus guessed they were both wrong.

“You shouldn’t.” He repeated, “But you can wish for only one thing. Just one. Will that be enough?”

“More than enough.”

“Then, make a wish, Sirius.”

He closed his eyes for few seconds, and then opened it.

“Did you?”

“Yes.” Sirius replied.

“I promise I will never leave you.” Remus leaned in, closer enough that his lips were almost brushing Sirius’ cheekbone.

“You are not even close.” Sirius inhaled sharply, but not loudly. 

“I promise I will never let you be alone.”

Remus held the other face in his hand now.

“My hand is cold now.” 

“But you face isn’t.” Remus tittered, and so they both shaking with laughter, again. It was a stupid thing to laugh at, but that stupidity was so meaningful and beautiful.

“I promise that I will love you, no matter what, if you let me.”

And then, Silence. It happened so fast. Remus had said all of that as if it came straight from his heart, without any hesitation or doubts. He opened his eyes. He didn’t realize he had his eyes closed. He held Sirius’ gaze. Tears were still swimming within those brims. Remus wanted him to spill them. It was a weird desire. But then they did, as if the tears heard him. As if Sirius heard him.

Tears rolled down his cheek, and Remus kissed them away. He didn’t know it was going to be more heartwarming than he the thought it would be. Sirius didn’t stay in his place now. He was leaning in, shifting closer.

He wanted this.

As Sirius put in hands on Remus’ shoulders, Remus took the opportunity to wrap his arms around his delicate torso, and made him sit on his lap. He landed on Remus with a thud that bubbled out a sweet chortle from him.

They held each other just like that. Sirius’ head on Remus’ shoulders, while Remus rubbed soothing circles on his back. He could feel his spine there, and ribs too. He could feel them as parts of his own body. Every time Sirius sniffled, he would squeezed him a little tighter.

“What are you thinking?” Sirius murmured.

“A lot of things.” Remus said.

“Tell me one.”

“The fact how different you feel.”

Sirius pulls gently away to look him in the eyes.

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No, it’s not.”

Remus was thinking that all of the past two years, he had been attracted to Sirius because he was beautiful, defiant, smart, and talented. Everything was perfect about him. Everyone was attracted to Sirius. However. However. However.

Remus was attracted to him even more, as if he had just known a new Sirius Black. A real one. He was not just attracted to him. He was in love with him. His heart was still falling. It was falling in love. He was falling in love.

A soft brush of thumb wiped the tear that Remus didn’t realize had rolled down his own cheek. Sirius was fondly looking at him. Everything about him was different. Remus knew that all of this was just for him.

“This doesn’t have to make sense, huh?”

“It doesn’t.” Remus replied.

“We can be ourselves.” It sounded more like a reassuring question, than a reassurance itself.

“We can be anything we want to be, Sirius.” He tugged down the thick black lock behind his ear, “We can love each other as much as we want to.”

Remus knew that this world was too cruel to peculiarity. Queerness was one of those things.

“We are living for ourselves. We are not living for the world.” Again, Sirius sounded like he needed reassurance.

“I’ll take care of you, if you let me.” Remus pulled him closer than he already was. He nodded.

“I love these stars.” Sirius spoke after a while, “And I love you.”

“You are my star.” Remus smiled at him.

“That’s more than ‘I love you’”

That made them both laugh. Harder.

Who would have thought that few hours ago, a scrawny boy who was daydreaming about falling in love with his best friend, had now not confessed, but was told that his best friend loved him more than he ever did?

“You made my wish come true, Moony.”

[bruh--wtf]

Swing

Masterlist

Peter Parker x Reader

Your bestfriends are Peter Parker, Ned, and MJ.

You were in the park with Peter, the possible love of your life but you'll never know because you're to scared to tell him, just hanging out.

"It's been half an hour," you say. He raises an eyebrow at you. You smirk slightly. "You're usually long gone by now." He rolls his eyes, pushing you a little and your swing swings right back at him. You push him too, and he smiles at how little he moved compared to when he pushed you.

"I've told you my internship-"

"I know, Peter," you say, interrupting him. He sighs, turning to look at you.

"I'm hanging out with you now, aren't I?" He asks. You smile a bit and nod.

"Yeah, just miss you a bit," you say and he raises his eyebrows. "A bit, God." He laughs and nods, letting his swing twist him.

"But, since what happened recently with Liz's dad and stuff, Mr. Stark is really noticing me. I can't slow down now," he says. You watch your friend talk, knowing how much he loves his job.

"You deserve to be noticed Peter, I just wish you'd relax a bit," you tell him. He looks at you again, his eyes softening again.

"I know. I'm sorry. I just... I can't help but want to do more," he says. "But, I also want to stay for now, if that makes sense." You smile at him and nod.

"I get it, Peter. I know who you are," you tell him. He snaps his head to you with wide eyes.

"You do?!" He asks. You laugh a bit.

"Yeah, of course I do. We've known eachother since the first grade, Pete," you say, rolling your eyes.

"W-well how did you firgure it out?" He asks. You scoff, looking at him.

"You're my bestfriend, Peter. I wouldn't say that if I didn't know you," you say. He deflates at a little.

"R-right. Yeah. Of course," he says, looking down at his feet. You reach over and grab his hand.

"Are you alright, Peter?" You ask. He smiles and nods.

"Yeah, of course I am," he says. You smile, then your phone rings.

You look at it and see your dad calling.

"Crap, for once I've gotta go first," you say. Peter chuckles and nods.

"Alright, I'll see you tomorrow," he says. You nod and answer the call as you start walking.

The sun was setting and you were walking towards your apartment.

"Yeah! I'm on my way. Love you too, bye," you say as you hang up. You pull your jacket around your shoulders tighter, the air becoming colder.

Then you hear something above you.

You look up and see Spiderman swinging from the buidings. You watch for a moment before a web shoots by you and you flinch. Though the only thing that lands near you is Spiderman.

You open your eyes to see a shifting Spiderman.

"Good evening," he says. The voice sounded familiar. It was so close, on the tip of your tongue and you swore you could place it.

"Um, yeah," you say, still a little shocked. He looks from side to side, noticing the many people still on the streets.

"Can I bring you home?" He asks. You open your mouth to question it before he takes a step closer to you, grabs your waist and shoots a web.

"What are yo-" you are cut off when your feet are taken off the ground and you gasp. You quickly wrap your arms and legs around him, terrified.

You look over his shoulder, seeing the city as he pulled you from building to building. And you laughed a little, smiling. You felt him land, and sighed.

"Are you alright?" He asks. Your eyes widen and you quickly untangle yourself from him. You look around and realize youre on the top of your apartment building.

"You-you just took me. H-how did you know where I lived? Why-" before you could continue asking more questions, he puts his hands on your shoulders to calm you down, but you pull back quickly, almost falling over the side, but he grabs your wrist.

You were horizontal looking down at the street. And he quickly pulled you up.

You hit his chest.

"Look. I don't know who you are, but-"

"That's what I'm trying to tell you!" He exclaims. You stare at him.

"You want to what?"

"I want to tell you who I am," he says. You stare at him. He couldn't be serious.

"Why? Why me?" You ask.

"Because. You're my bestfriend. And... you know me," he says. Your eyes widen as you look at the mask. You couldn't believe it. No way. Not possible.

You take a step towards him, and he takes a step back. You take a more careful step closer, grabbing his hand.

You grab the mask, slowly peeling it off. When you see your bestfriend's face you are literally speechless.

"I know, this is probably alot, but you mean so much to me and after what you said at the park, I just felt like you needed to know. I-"

"This whole time... you've been Spiderman," you say. He studies your face, clearly nervous. "This whole time you've been lying?"

"No! No, no, no! Well, I mean, I guess. Technically. But its not something you just tell someone. It could get out," he says.

"So you didn't trust me?" You ask he shakes his head again, trying to grab your arms but you step away from him.

"No. It's not like that. Mr. Stark told me not to tell anyone. Ned just kind of found out-"

"Ned knows?!" You exclaim. "Ned can't keep a secret to save his life!"

"I know, I know. But he has! He hasn't told anyone, surprisingly!" He defends. You stare at the boy in the spider suit.

"You've been running around the city nearly getting yourself killed for months and you haven't told anyone?!"

"I haven't nearly died. Well, with Liz's dad-"

"Oh my God, that was you, Peter!" You say. He grabs your hands, holding them so you can't walk away anymore.

"I know. I should have told you. But Mr. Stark is looking after me. And Ned. And May knows now," he says. You gape at him.

"How has May not killed you yet?" You ask.

"Talked her down. She's alot less mad now," he explains quickly. You nod slightly, looking down trying to process everything. Peter grabs your face, making you look up at him. "I... I was scared to tell you because I was scared of getting you hurt. But, after what you said at the Park, I know I can protect you now. And I'm more scared of losing you than anything else," he tells you.

You watch the boy. The same boy who had owned your heart without knowing it for years. The same boy who was crushing it without knowing it right now.

"I know, it sounds cheesy. But, it's true. I know what I can do now. And I know that I can protect you. And not telling you was only hurting you, so I knew I needed to tell you because I hate seeing you upset. You said I'm your bestfriend. Well, you're mine. Ned too, of course, but I don't think about Ned like I think about you. I think about you all the time."

"Peter..."

"Wait, I'm not done. I can't get you out of my head. I know I said that I liked Liz and I did at the time, but then I looked at you. And I mean, I actually looked at you. And suddenly I started wanting to hang out with you one on one more, and my stomach started to do this weird thing whenever I saw you. And-"

"Peter!"

"I think I'm in love with you!" He blurts out. You stare at him. You had been waiting to hear those words. Dreaming up different scenarios in your head. But that was it. Dreams. You didn't expect it to ever actually happen.

"You... you're in love with me?" You ask. Peter nods, biting his lip slightly. You glance at them, then you kiss him. It was quick, and he barely had time to do anything about it.

"I feel the same way, Pete," you say. He grins at you, his charming doofy grin.

He grabs your face again, pulling you to kiss him. Your hands place on his chest. It felt passionate, almost hungry. Like he'd been waiting to do it, but he had no idea how long you'd actually been waiting for him to kiss you.

"Your phone is ringing," he mumbles against your lips. You give him a slightly confused look before pulling out your phone and seeing your dad calling again. You frown, looking at your phone. Then you turn it off.

Peter gives you a confused look. "Don't you have to go home?" He asks. You smirk a little.

"I am home, remember?" You ask, pulling him in again to kiss him.

"Your dad is going to kill me," he says. You chuckle.

"Ah yes, the girlfriend's dad will be the death of Spiderman," you say mockingly. He raises an eyebrow, smiling.

"Girlfriend?" He asks. Your smile widens.

"You just gotta ask, Peter," you say, teasingly close to his lips. He glances down at your lips before meeting your eyes again.

"Y/N..."

"Hmm?" You hum, smiling. He smiles right back at you.

"Will you be my girlfriend?" He asks. You grin at the boy and nod.

"I'd be honored," you say. He grins, kissing you. You feel his hand find your pocket and he grabs your phone. You gasp, and try to grab it to which he laughs and holds it up higher. "What are you doing?" You ask.

"Just hold on a second," he says. You reach around his shoulder for your phone again, when suddenly he turns around and kisses you. He pulls your waist against him. You freeze for a second before smiling against his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck, a small laugh escaping you.

Then he pulls away from you again, going back to your phone.

"Peter!" You whine. He smirks a little and then turns off your phone, handing it back to you. You glare at the boy. "What did you do?" You ask as he pulls out his own phone.

"Just look," he says without looking up. You frown at him, but click on your phone to see he'd taken a picture of the two of you kissing. It was now your lock screen. It looked like you'd just started smiling.

You smile and look up at the boy, who was also smiling. He turned off his own phone and clicked it back on to show you a picture of you laughing against his lips, and him grinning at you. You hadn't seen how adorable he'd looked in the moment, and were glad you were seeing it now.

"You couldn't have just told me that's what you were doing?" You ask. He smirks a little.

"Nope, you couldn't have seen it coming," he says. You nod a little.

"Yeah. But what if I just pushed you away, instead?" You ask. He shrugs, smiling.

"I'd of lived. But, it wouldn't stop me from trying again," he says. You chuckle and nod.

"Right," you say. He gives your lips another small kiss.

"You should get to your apartment. Before your dad actually does kill me," he says. You laugh at the boy and smile. He gestures to the mask in his hand and you nod. But before he could put the mask on, you wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him. He wraps his arms around you, holding you tight.

"What's this for?" He asks.

"Thank you." He tries to look at you, but your face was buried in his shoulder. "For telling me. Both things." You kiss his cheek, pulling away from him. He smiles at you.

"Well, you deserved to know both, so might as well," he says. You smile sweetly at the boy.

"One more thing," you say, and he gives you a slightly confused look. "Can you get me off the roof?" His eyes widen a fraction and he nods.

"Right, right, yeah," he says, pulling his mask on. He grabs your waist and brings you back down to the ground. You smile at the boy. "Goodnight, Y/N," he says. You chuckle slightly at the mask, and he flinches away when you try to lift it up. He looks around, noticing the people still walking about.

"I know," you say, stopping the mask just by his nose. You kiss him gently, causing him to smile. You pull his mask back down, and rise up on your toes a bit to whisper in his ear.

"Goodnight, Peter."

[allegra-writes]

Fireproof

Peter Parker x Reader

NSFW

Warnings: Smut; Sex pollen.

The request:

This is for @idiosadeoro who wanted Virgin!Peter, hypersensitive cause of his spider sense, and the bunch of anons who wanted Sex pollen/Fuck or die. Hope this caters to your tastes. Preparing for Halloween, this is the most fucked up thing I wrote so far 😘

Also, Infinity war? Endgame?? NOT IN THIS HOUSE.

MY MASTERLIST / SERIES MASTERLIST

You were so fired.

So fucking fired.

That was the only thought going through your mind, on repeat as you made your way to the med bay. You tried to focus on that, because if you were to think even for one second about what you were about to do, you'd never be able to go through with it.

With shaky fingers and your heart pounding inside your chest hard enough to break your ribs, you punched the code in the security panel and watched the light go green. This was it, your moment of truth. You squared your shoulders, took a deep breath, and pushed the door open.

Peter knew it was you even before you spoke, there was a shift in the atmosphere, the stale air inside the bay was suddenly electrified, every one of his senses coming alive. He wished he could blame the god damned pollen, but he had long before memorized the cadence of your footsteps, the smell of your perfume. He could recognize your heartbeat in a room full of people. The truth was he had had the most desperate, hopeless crush on you from the very moment Tony had showed up in the lab with you in tow, and announced the two of you would be working together.

On a normal day, he had enough trouble controlling himself around you enough not to blurt out his feelings, but now, with the freaky alien sex pollen stuff in his system?..

“Peter?”

He feigned sleep where he was on the gurney, refusing to open his eyes. If he so much as saw your pretty face, his control would snap, he just knew it. You stepped closer.

“Y/n, it’s not a good idea for you to be here right now” he tried to warn you, but you kept on coming closer, he could feel the heat coming out of your body even feet away, every pore of his skin opening to soak up your warmth. You were saying something, and he should probably listen but you were way too close now, a whiff of your scent, flowery and sweet and female reaching his nose.

Before you could blink, he had you pinned against the wall, every inch of his firm, lithe but muscular body pressed against yours, hard planes against soft curves.

“I mean it, y/n, it’s extremely dangerous for you to be in the same room as me until Mr. Stark comes up with an antidote” His nose was practically touching yours, his breath hot against your face.

And you could actually see it, the danger he was talking about. It was there, in his eyes, the raw hunger, the barely contained desire. It made shivers run down your spine, cause you knew if he was to loose control, you would be powerless against his super strength.

For the first time ever, you were afraid of Spider-man.

But this was what you had come here for in the first place, wasn’t it? There was no antidote, at least none that would work with his enhanced metabolism. The same metabolism that was processing the alien substance twice as fast. Time was running out, and Steve and Tony were still up in the lab, debating the moral implications of getting Peter an escort.

So you swallowed your fear, and crushed your lips to his.

He returned the kiss right away, tongue parting your lips, forcing his way into your mouth. The sound that left his throat at the first taste of you was not unlike that of a wounded animal. You swallowed it, head spinning, grateful for being trapped between the wall and his body, your knees suddenly to weak to support your own weight.

Your fingers buried themselves in the curls at the back of his head by their own accord, tearing another moan out of him. He released your lips only to latch his to your neck, kissing, sucking, nibbling with no finesse or technique whatsoever.

“I can’t stop” He was murmuring between kisses, burying his apologies into your skin, “I can’t stop, I’m sorry”

It was the truth. He had tried to downplay the effects so as not to worry Tony even more, but ever since he had gotten covered in that weird pink dust, it had been hard to breath, his lungs, loins, skin, everything felt on fire.

The first taste of your lips, of your tongue, of your spit, had felt like a mouthful of fresh water, cooling down his insides. The first relief he had had in hours.

But it still wasn’t enough. He needed more. He needed you.

He parted your knees with one of his own, thigh rocking against your center.

It made you moan. The very first sound he had coaxed out of you, and it made his blood boil inside his veins. A new scent filled his nose, almost cloyingly sweet. He reclaimed your lips with a growl when he realized he was smelling your arousal.

One of his hands made its way to the back of your neck, keeping you in place as he ravaged your mouth, the other one popped open the button of your jeans and slid inside to where the heath between your legs was beckoning him. His hands were hot, leaving scorching trails in their wake. One finger found your entrance, diving in, pumping steadily in an out until you were shamelessly moving your hips, riding his hand, chasing your release.

It was embarrassing, you had never come so fast in your life but there was no mistaking the feeling coiling up inside you, tighter and tighter until it had no choice but to explode, making you cry out into Peter’s mouth.

He could have stayed like that until his death, fingers still lazily thrusting inside you, devouring those delicious little sounds from your mouth... But he noticed your hands, a second ago tugging so good at his hair, now on his chest, trying to push him away. It teared him in half, every cell in his body screaming in pain, but he complied, taking a step back. You stumbled a little on your feet.

“Please” He breathed out, voice breaking. He needed you, he would literally die… He could have sob in relief when you got rid of your lab coat and he understood you only wanted to get undressed, but he still had enough presence of mind to stop you.

“No” You met his eyes, confusion clear in your face, “Not here” Not where there were cameras, not where he didn’t even had a proper bed to lie you down. If he was finally going to make you his, he was going to do it right, pollen or not.

A voice in the back of his head reminded him that you weren’t his, you were only doing this to save his life, but he pushed it aside, as he picked you up as if you were weightless -for him, you probably were- and took you to the little on-call room right outside the bay at breakneck speed.

He placed you softly on the bed and got rid of his clothes so quickly it had to be a record, before moving to help you out of yours. He covered your body with his perfect one, your skin was so soft, so pliant under his hands, so cool against his own feverish skin, soothing him like a balm, he wanted nothing but to bury himself into you. But he admitted, voice small and shy and so Peter it almost broke your heart.

“I- I have no idea what I’m doing…”

He felt you froze underneath him and leaned back to look at your stunned face.

“You’ve never..?”

He shook his head no.

“But, you and MJ, wasn’t she your girlfriend until like, college?

“She’s ace. I respected that.” He replied simply.

“But, back in the bay, if you've never done… anything, what was that?”

He half shrugged,

“A shot in the dark?”

He was freaking natural, then. And you? You were going to hell.

You just knew it, cause never before you had had an Innocence kink, but Peter “Perfect bubble butt” Parker was a virgin, and you were all for it, licking your lips and planning a thousand different ways to corrupt him before the night was over.

You pushed at his shoulders and he let you manhandle him until he was the one on his back on the mattress, and you were straddling his thick, gorgeous thighs.

He watched you, mesmerized, as you raked your fingernails down his torso, leaving red trails, catching on his nipples, making him hiss. His muscles rippled under your hands as you moved them over his abs, lower and lower, until you wrapped your fingers around his hard, long, angry cock. His groan went straight to your cunt, and somewhere in the back of your mind you realized this was so wrong, you weren’t like this, you shouldn’t be enjoying this so much, something really weird was going on. But this had stopped being about saving Peter’s life a long time ago.

You pumped your hand once, twice, three times, watching his head trash from side to side. You spat on your other hand and covered the head of his cock with it, caressing it with soft, circular movements that had him sobbing and cursing. It made you feel powerful, hot.

“If my hands feel this good, just imagine how it will feel when you finally get inside me…” You leaned over him to whisper dirtily in his ear, before sucking the lobe into your mouth

“Fuck!.. Yes, please, y/n… please!”

“You want it, don’t you? Want to feel me from the inside… penetrate me, break me in half with your cock…” Where was all this coming from? This was wrong, he wasn’t in his right mind, you weren’t supposed to like it.

“Yes! Please! Yes, I want it, all of it!”

You guided him to your entrance, lowering your self slowly, slowly. He was huge, and you were dripping, yes, but you needed to be careful anyway, you had never taken someone so big.

His hand went to your waist, crying out as his cock disappeared inside you, eyes fixed on the place you and him were joined. You grabbed a hold of one of his wrists, guiding his hand to one of your breasts as you started moving up and down, riding him.

“Oh God!..”

“Tell me,” you demanded, already breathing hard, he was filling you up so good, touching all the right places deep inside you, “Tell me how does it feel to be inside me”

“Hot… so wet… so tight… you feel like...” He stopped, looking up at you through half lidded eyes.

“Like what?” You urged him on, “Tell me, Peter”

“You feel like you’re mine”

Your walls contracted around him at his words, a wave of pleasure washing over you. His other hand returned to your waist and he started moving you faster up and down his cock.

“Yes, like that, show me how you like it” You were delirious, your own hand tugging at your hair, “make me yours, Peter!”

He started to buck his hips up, trying to get even deeper, his pelvis rubbing against your clit just right every time he bottomed out and your second orgasm of the night started to build.

“Gonna come inside this pretty pussy” He let out under his breath, and you didn’t know if he was talking to you or to himself, “Then, I’m going to turned you around on your hands and knees, enter your pussy from behind, not even gonna stop. Gonna make you come on my cock over and over and over…” he punctuated every word with a hard thrust, until your walls were squeezing him again, and you were screaming your release. A couple thrusts later, and you felt him coming as well, coating your insides with his hot seed.

True to his word, he flipped you over, burying his cock in your oversensitized cunt again, fucking you through the aftershocks, prolonging your pleasure until you were a moaning, trembling mess. And he wasn’t even slowing down.

“I wanted you… since the first moment I saw you” he confessed, leaning over your back to kiss your shoulder, the gesture surprisingly sweet for the way he was taking you, so raw and animalistic. “You were wearing that pink skirt… and I wanted… wanted to bend you over the lab table and have my way with you…”

Dizzily, you reached behind you to grab a handful of his hair, and turned your head to kiss him, open mouthed and sloppy. He loved it.

“This is close enough” He sighed when you broke the kiss, resting his forehead on your shoulder, hips slapping against your ass loudly.

You interrupted the steady stream of “Uh… uh…uh” leaving your throat to try and say,

“I don’t know… we could… still do it in the lab… later…”

“Fuck, you’re perfect!” He moaned against your back, before grabbing hold of your hips again, pounding into you faster than any normal boy could ever do.

…

You passed out somewhere between round five and six, not before giving him express permission to use your body as much as he needed to burn the fucking -ha- pollen out of his system.

He was running his fingers softly up and down your naked back, a barely there caress, watching you sleep, sated, relaxed and completely spent, when he heard the buzzing coming from your jeans, long forgotten on the floor near the bed. He took it out and saw Tony’s name lighting up the scream.

He slid to pick up.

“Fucking finally! Y/n, where the hell are you?!”

“Mister Stark, it’s me” He whispered his reply, as not to wake you up.

“Peter! Thank God! How are you, please tell me you didn’t-“

“Sorry, Mister Stark,” Peter interrupted him, “We kinda did…”

“Shit! Please, Peter, please tell me you kids used protection!”

“Uh…”

Tony left out another loud curse at the other side of the line.

“Where are you? Y/n did something to Friday and now it won’t tell me where you are in the tower. You still in the tower right? I need the both of you to come to the lab right now” Tony was talking a mile a minute and Peter knew something very bad, not of the good was going on.

“Why?”

“Because,” Tony’s voice was frantic as he tried to explain the gravity of the situation, “That pollen thing? That’s not an aphrodisiac like we thought, it’s a fertility treatment. It doesn’t only messes your hormones up, it messes with hers too with every fluid exchange!”

Peter turned to look at you, peacefully asleep, curling up to his side, blissfully unaware of anything and everything going on outside that bed.

And maybe it was the alien substance still fucking up his brain, but the mental image of you, round with his child, sleeping like that next to him every night? It wasn’t half as terrifying as Tony seemed to think it was.

After all, the girl of his dreams was finally his, and a baby would guarantee she would remain his, forever.

“You know what, Mister Stark? I have to go now. Talk to you tomorrow…”

“What? No, kid, don’t hang up on me! Peter Parker I swear-…”

Tony Stark heard the line go dead.

To be continued...

Buy me a coffee

[nothingbutimagines]

The Holidate (Steve Rogers)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warning: Cursing, fluff, lots of bickering and pining

Summary: After Y/n’s grandmother has been hounding her to get a boyfriend, Y/n convinces Steve, the only team member alone on Christmas and her slight enemy, to go with her to her family’s Christmas Eve dinner. 

Author: Dizzy

A/N: On the second day of ficmas, my fanfic writer gave to me two characters fake dating on Christmas Eve. Tomorrow is Roommate!Tom Holland x Reader and yesterday was Peter Parker x Reader. As always, requests are open and happy holidays to you all!

Masterlist Request Any Of These Peter Parker/Tom Holland Masterlist

__________________

“Yes, Grandma, I will be bringing my boyfriend with me.” You said softly, holding your phone between your ear and your shoulder as you folded clothes and placed them into your overnight bag. “Yes, he’s very handsome, of course. His name? It’s uh-”

Steve walked into the view of your doorway, knocking on the door frame softly, his eyebrow raised at you.

“It’s Steve. Yes, Steve. Cute, right? Listen, I have to go, but I will call you when we are on our way, okay?” You gave Steve a slight wave as you straightened up, holding the phone away from your face. “Love you too. Bye.”

You let out a heavy sigh, tossing your phone on the bed before turning to Steve. 

“You think I’m cute?” He asked, a chuckle escaping his lips. 

“Ew, as if.” You turned away, starting to fold your clothing once again. “I know you didn’t come here to eavesdrop on me and my grandmother. What do you want?”

“Well, this handsome man-”

“I never called you handsome.”

“I came here to inform you that everyone has left for the holidays, so this wing of the compound is about to be very cold since Tony wants to save electricity while everyone is out for the week.”

“Are you leaving, Steve?”

“No, I don’t have any plans. I just thought I’d stay here. Why?”

“How would you like to attend Christmas Eve dinner with my family?” You asked, turning to him with a glowing smile on your face. 

“What’s the catch?” 

Steve crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the door frame as he studied the look on your face, attempting to read your expression as your smile fell slightly. 

“Why would there be a catch?”

“Oh, come on, Y/n, you never do acts of kindness without something in return.”

You scoffed. “That is so not true! I do nice things all the time.”

“Yesterday, you gave me the extra burrito you had gotten at Chipotle and didn’t finish and then five minutes later, I got your Venmo request for the apparent four dollars and seventy-eight cents I ate.”

You laughed. “I only do that stuff to you cause it’s funny, but I didn’t think you’d hold a grudge about it.”

“It’s not a grudge-” Steve sighed and rolled his eyes. “Enough about yesterday. What is the catch in coming to meet your family?”

You zipped up your bag and looked at him sheepishly.

“I hope you’re a good actor because you have to pretend to be my boyfriend.”

Steve let out a laugh and shook his head. “I’d rather be alone on the holiday than pretend to be your boyfriend.”

“You forgot to say ‘no offense.’”

“No, I hope you do take offense. I’m not going and I hope you’re bothered.”

“I am! Steve, come on! I already told my grandmother you were coming. Please, I will do anything if you do me just this one favor.”

Steve raised a brow. “Really?”

You raised your hand and nodded. “Really. Scout’s honor.”

“You weren’t even a scout.”

“Uh, yeah, I was. I was a girl scout for like three years.” You argued. “Which is something you should know as my boyfriend.”

“I am not about to learn your life’s story just to be your fake boyfriend.”

“Yes, you are. We have a four hour drive ahead of us.” You replied, slinging your bag over your shoulder and slipping past him. “Now, let’s go get you some clothes and get the hell out of here. It’s already getting cold.”

“I think I can dress myself.”

“No you can’t.”

__________________

“I hate this sweater.” Steve stated, tugging at the woven fabric as he shifted in his seat. 

“Oh my god, shut up about the sweater! It looks nice!” 

“It’s so stiff and itchy. There’s a reason it was in the back of my closet.” 

“Could you sound anymore like a child?” You snapped. “Also, when I said we were driving, I was hoping you’d get behind the wheel.”

Steve crossed his arms over his chest as you glanced away from the road and at him. 

“Well, you’re the one who kidnapped me, so you have to drive. It’s only fair.”

“I didn’t even kidnap you! You came willingly.”

“That was before you made me wear this sweater!” Steve groaned, sinking into the car seat slightly. “It was also before I found out when you said you’d do anything for me in return, that meant you’d only wash my car and nothing else.”

“I don’t know why you expected me to willingly do paperwork for the next four days!” 

“Because you said you’d do anything!”

“Ugh! We both know I’m liar!” 

“You’ve got that right.”

You sighed heavily, moving your hands on the steering wheel. “I don’t know why I even asked you to do this. I should’ve asked Vision. At least he knows my last name.”

“I know your last name.”

“When I asked you what my last name was, you said Gatsby!”

“I know it now.” Steve corrected himself. “And of course Vision knows your last name! He’s a machine! Like a microwave!”

“I’d rather have a microwave who knows my last name as a fake boyfriend.”

“You’re the worst.”

“Speak for yourself.”

“Do you even know my last name?” Steve challenged, turning down the music that was playing on the stereo.

“It’s Rogers.”

“Oh, so you do know.” 

“Yeah, I do know.” You scoffed, leaning forward and turning the music back up. “How about we just sit and listen to music for the last thirty minutes of this car ride?”

Steve turned down the music again and looked over at you. “I don’t even know what I’m supposed to say if your family asks how we met.”

“Easy. Just say we met at work.”

“Wouldn’t that be weird? Since I’m your boss?”

“Actually, Fury is my boss. You’re just like the one coworker who thinks he’s the manager when the manager isn’t there.” 

“I am not!”

“Newsflash, asshole, you’ve been on the same playing field as us all the whole time!” 

“Language.”

“Who are you? My father?” You refrained from rolling your eyes. “Let’s just get this story straight and we’ll worry about your old man attitude later.”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that last part.”

“Anyway,” You started, “we will just say that we met at work and we’ve only been dating a few months now, but I’m bringing you because you don’t have any family to see on the holidays.”

“Oh, so I’m the sad orphan you’re saving? That’s the lie we’re going with?”

“Are you dying of fucking dementia, grandpa?” You asked, the sarcasm thick in your voice. “I literally didn’t make up a lie, it was all true!”

“Oh. Right.”

“Yeah. Just tell the truth, you know, minus the part where we are not dating.” You insisted. “And try to remember my last name, for the love of God.”

“It’s Y/l/n, I know. I’m never going to live this down, am I?”

“Never. Now you can see why when I said I’d do anything, I wasn’t going to do just anything.”

Your phone buzzed in the cup holder between you and you reached your hand down to grab it, instead grabbing something else soft and warm. You pulled your hand away, glancing over to see Steve’s hand already on your phone. 

“You know, Y/n, if you wanted to hold hands, you could’ve just asked. We are dating after all.”

“Shut up. Just hand me my phone so I can read my text message. It might be from my mom.” 

You reached for the phone in Steve’s hands, your other hand still on the wheel and your eyes on the road as he slapped your hand away lightly. 

“No way. You’re driving. I’ll read it to you.” He insisted, attempting to open your phone before looking at you. “I need your face to open your phone.”

“There is a password. It’s ‘Steve sucks major dong’. all lowercase, no space.”

“That didn’t work.”

“I know it wouldn’t. I just wanted to say it.” You chuckled. “The password is ‘there is no password’, no spaces, all lowercase.”

“Clever.” Steve replied, now looking intently at your phone before reading out loud, “Peter aka Spiderboy says that he washed the car you asked him to and even waxed it since he thought it would look nice, so you can just venmo him his twenty dollars.” 

“Oh, good. I didn’t think he’d get that done until the weekend.”

“You paid Tony’s little mentor kid to wash my car, didn’t you?” Steve asked, setting your phone down back in the cup holder. 

“Of course I did. You didn’t really think I’d do it myself, did you? It so much easier to pay some kid cash than do it myself.”

“Fair point.”

You took a turn into the driveway of your parent’s house, sighing heavily as you put the car into park and turned to Steve. 

“Listen to me,” You ordered, poking him in the chest. “If you so much as hint at the fact that we aren’t actually dating, I will kill you. Don’t call me pet names, don’t annoy me. We just need to make it through the next two days and we’ll never have to speak of this again.”

“Hold on. The next two days?” Steve’s eyes were wide as they met yours. 

“Why the fuck did you think I packed you a bag?”

“I don’t know! Just in case I spill on myself?”

“Are you a baby? Do you need a diaper bag?” You mocked, your attitude clearly annoyed. “How often do you spill on yourself?”

“Well, never, but maybe now I might! Maybe I might because I’m nervous now that you’re holding me hostage in the middle of nowhere!” 

“You are so dramatic, my God!” You groaned, unbuckling yourself before swinging open your door and jumping out of the car. “Just grab your bag so we can go inside.” 

You opened the door to the backseat, now face to face with Steve who was on the other side, grabbing his own bag and coat. You stuck your tongue out at him, only to cause him to roll his eyes before you both closed your doors and you locked the car. You made your way around to Steve’s side of the car, holding your hand out to him. 

“What are you doing?”

“Hold my hand.” You ordered, waving your hand at him. 

“I don’t want to hold your hand.”

“Suck it up. You have to. We have to look like we’re together.”

“I hate you so much.” 

“Shut up and hold it already!” You cried, waving your hand wildly before he took your hand in his. “Thank you.”

“Don’t talk to me.”

You guided him down the walkway and up the stairs onto your parent’s front porch. You leaned forward, ringing the doorbell before looking up at Steve, who had a strong frown on his face. You yanked his hand lightly, causing him to look at you. 

“Smile. Look like you love me.” You whispered as the front door opened, to reveal your mother and father. “Mom, dad! Hi!”

“Y/n, honey, it’s so good to see you.” You mother beamed, looking between you and Steve. “Oh, you must be Steve! Y/n has told us so much about you!”

Steve raised a brow, a smirk on his face as he looked at you. “Oh, really?”

“Yes, of course! She thinks you are just the cutest and I can see why.”

“Mom, come on.” You groaned, feeling as though you were back in your teens, bringing home your high school boyfriend to meet your parents. 

“Oh, hush, just let us have a chance to tease you.” She laughed, touching your shoulder as you slipped into the house past her. 

“Yeah, sweetheart, let us have our fun.” Steve agreed, following you inside. 

“Oh, Steve, Y/n’s father will take both of your bags to your room.” Your mother said, your father taking your bag from you and taking Steve’s as well. “I need to go check on the ham, but make yourselves at home! Everyone is in the living room.”

You nodded as your two parents departed before turning to Steve, taking your hand from him. “Sweetheart? Really?”

“I was trying to sound like a boyfriend.”

“It was weird. Please, don’t do that again. Just, just don’t call me pet names.”

“If I can’t call you pet names, what do I call you?” Steve asked as he followed you down the hallway to the living room. 

“Just call me by my name, okay?” You nodded, flashing a smile before turning forward, walking into the living room. 

“Y/n!” Your grandmother beamed, causing the rest of the room to turn and face you.

“Hello, Grandma. Hello, everyone, this is Steve. My, uh-”

“Her boyfriend. Nice to meet you all.” Steve gave a small wave to the room as you took a seat down on the couch besides your grandmother, Steve following your lead. 

You gave your grandmother a quick kiss, sinking into the couch as Steve sat beside you. 

“He’s very handsome.” Your grandmother whispered, leaning in close to you and gave you a quick wink. “Good job.”

You gave her a shy smile. “Thank you, Gran.”

“It’s uh, very nice to meet you, ma’am.” Steve spoke up, leaning forward to look past you.

“Oh, you too, honey. And might I say, you are cute as a button. If I was a few years younger, I’d swoon for you just as Y/n here has.” 

“Okay, Gran. Let’s not embarrass Steve.” 

“Oh, I’m not embarrassed.” Steve corrected, a hand on his chest, “I’m flattered, actually. But that blush on your cheeks might indicate you are the one embarrassed.” 

Your mother walked into the living room, her smile bright as she clapped her hands together, gathering the attention of everyone in the room. 

“Alright! Dinner is ready if you all are hungry.” 

“Thank God.” You stood up, smoothing out the fabric of your pants as you took a deep breath. “Come on, Steve.”

“Coming.” Steve stood up and followed you threw the entrance to the kitchen. 

“Oh, look who’s under the mistletoe!” Your grandmother beamed as you both stopped to look back at her. 

“Oh, Grandma, please.” You shook your head. “It’s just a silly tradition.”

“Oh nonsense, Y/n, it’s fun.” 

“Yeah, sweetheart, it’s just a funny tradition.” Steve smirked, grabbing your hand and pulling you close to him before kissing you softly. 

You hummed, shocked by the gesture before melting a bit at the sensation of his lips on yours. You put your hand on his chest before pulling away, only to realize you were the only ones left in the hallway. 

"If you ever kiss me like that again-" You whispered, your voice almost a hiss as you followed him down the hallway.

"Shut up, you liked it, you opened your mouth for tongue." 

"I did not!" You retorted.

"Then why'd you lick mine when I stuck it in your mouth?" Steve questioned, looking back at you with a matter of fact look on his face.

"Just don't kiss me, alright?"

“So now I can’t kiss you? How do you expect us to fake date if I can’t even properly pretend?”

“You just want an excuse to kiss me, don’t you, Steve?”

“Oh, don’t act like you didn’t like that, too.”

“I can like the action of kissing without liking the person.” You stated, turning away from him as you grabbed a dinner plate, piling on the food you wanted before following the rest of the group into the dining room. 

“Y/n, Steve, we left a spot open for you two so you can sit together.” Your mother motioned towards you. 

You took a seat between Steve and your grandmother, sandwiched between them and wishing you hadn’t picked the spot as you looked around the table, your parents sitting at the two heads and you older brother and his girlfriend sitting across from you with your younger sister sandwiched between them. 

“So,” Your mother started, looking at the two of you, “how did you two meet?”

“We met at work.” You stated simply, not looking up from your plate as you pushed around your food. 

“I’m sorry, I should have asked Steve. Steve, how did you two meet?” 

“Uh,” Steve looked over at you for reassurance, only to receive a confused expression in response, “we met at work, Y/n is right, but it wasn’t as simple as that. I think when we first met, we kind of butted heads a lot and bickered all the time.”

Steve glanced over at you, taking your hand in his. “You know how Y/n is, she teases everyone, and I think for a while I thought she just hated me, but then I figured out she was really only ever teasing me because she liked me. I don’t know if it was romantic or not, but I knew I liked her romantically. It was kind of a no-brainer, whether or not to ask her out. So, I did. She laughed in my face, of course, but when she realized I was serious, she reciprocated the sentiment and said yes.” 

You watched Steve as he spoke, your hand warming up in his as you sat silently. You were amazed by the story, almost believing it yourself. He may not have known your last name until earlier in the day, but in that moment, you realized just how observant he was of you along with how easy you were to read. 

It was true, you had only ever teased and tormented Steve because you liked him, but you were never sure if it was romantic interest in him that had you acting the way you did. 

Sure, Steve was handsome and kind and he was easy to talk to when you actually talked to him and he never quite put up with your shit, but did you like him?

Your eyes grew wide with realization as you quickly turned down to your plate and began eating quietly. 

“Y/n? Did you hear me?” Your mother asked.

“No, I’m sorry, I was lost in thought. What?” 

“Did you tease Steve because you liked him romantically?” She asked. “Like a school boy pulling a girl’s pigtails?”

You shrugged, stabbing a piece of ham with your fork. “I don’t know. I think at the time, I didn’t really realize how much I really liked him romantically. You know how I am, I’m not the romantic type.” 

“But somehow she sure did fall in love with me, right, doll?” Steve asked, putting a hand on your head, brushing through you hair. 

You nodded against his head, swallowing hard. “Yeah, yes! I did. I love Steve quite a lot.” 

“Oh, well that’s so sweet. John, your turn, tell us about this lovely lady right here.” Your mother turned her attention to your older brother, taking the spotlight away from you and Steve.

“Oh thank god.” You let out the breath you were holding and looked at Steve. “You’re a really good liar, you know that?” 

“You’re not so bad yourself.” He whispered back. “We should fake date more often, maybe at restaurants for those free desserts you get on your anniversary.”

“I can’t stand you.”

“Oh, I think you can.” Steve chuckled. “You did say you love me ‘quite a lot.’” 

“I was lying, just like you did with your little story.”

“But was I fully lying there?” Steve leaned in close to you, his face close to yours.

“I don’t know, you tell me.”

“You like me, don’t you, sweetheart?” He leaned in a little closer

“As if.”

“Oh really? Because the closer I’ve gotten, the pinker your face has gotten.”

“Don’t make me say it, Steve.”

“Oh, you don’t have to. The way you kissed me earlier has said enough.”

“You kissed me first.”

“And I’ll do it again.” 

[parkmuse]

Ultimatum (M)

Word Count: 10,339 (Reposted) (Wonhopes Masterlist)

Your pervy, idiotic boyfriend just so happens to also be your friendly neighborhood Spider-man (in bed).

cr.

“I love you so much baby,” He hums, kissing you sweetly on the tip of your nose.

“Shut the fuck up and let’s just get this over with okay?” You groan over the silk sheets, arms laced tightly against the headrest as you get more and more impatient from the restrains.

“I love it when you use your dirty mouth with me,” He grunts, erection getting much more prominent in his blue-red tights.

You roll your eyes, “Jungkook can we just-“

He puts his clothed finger on your lips, shushing you. “Nuh uh uh, you promised you’d call me by my other name.”

You open your mouth to try and chomp on his finger, but he quickly retracts before you can do any damage. You give him a sweet smile when he smirks right back at you.

“…Can we please hurry and do this, Mr. Peter Parker?”

“Noooo Y/N! You’re not supposed to know my real identity yet! Do we have to go over this again? I found out you were trapped here, swoop on in to save the day, you’re shocked and extremely turned on from me saving you and start seducing me, and then I fuck you into oblivion as Spiderman.”

“Yeah but nowhere did you mention I’d be tied to the bed by your stupid fake spider webs-“

“No complaining! You said you’d play along,” He pouts, the spider symbol on his chest jutting out as he crosses his arms.

You only agreed to this because your dumb ass boyfriend begged you nonstop for weeks to fulfill his one fantasy he’d been dreaming of probably almost all of his horny teen life until now. You really didn’t know what the hype was with this superhero roleplay and how it could possibly get someone off, but literally even you brushing your elbow against him by accident can have him up and ready in a matter of seconds. Many instances of accidentally touching him in public led to public bathroom quickies or doing it in the car to which you couldn’t really complain since he would give you a piece of relief as well. This scenario really proved much harder to collaborate with though.

“Okay okay, I’m sorry.” You sigh. Your arms are really starting to hurt and he would probably give you the cold shoulder for weeks if you made him stop now, so the less you talked the quicker you’d get this over with. “Let’s do this spiderboy.”

“SpiderMAN!”

“Okay, Spiderman.” What’s the difference anyway?

“Okay. Now get into position.”

Aren’t you already in position? You can’t fucking move an inch.

You bothered not making any snarky comeback so he can resume. You watched him pick up a thin cloth on the bedside table, slipping on his mask before walking out the bedroom door and shutting it closed.

It’s silent for about a good 15 seconds. Where did he go?

You hear the door creak open and you’re met with his dumb ass masked figure. “Did you forget your lines?”

Even if you can’t see it, you know his face is scrunched up in annoyance by the tone of his voice.

“O-Oh right, sorry.”

He turns and closes the door again.

You clear your voice, “H-Help! I’ve been kidnapped! I’m so scared, I-if someone hot and strong could only come and save me…” You internally curse yourself from agreeing to this bullshit.

You jump in place when the door is kicked open, slamming against the wall.

“Have no fear young broad, your friendly neighborhood Spiderman is here!” He hops onto the bed dramatically, crouched and looking around frantically with his hands ready to spit out fake webs to any nonexistent thugs in the room.

“I’ve taken down the 50 guys in the other room with no problem whatsoever, you’re safe now pretty lady.” You try not to burst out laughing at his ridiculous remark, but swallow up your sounds. He moves above you, leaning forward to remove your hands from the laces. Finally.

You’re waiting for him to release you, but he halts his movements. You’re looking at him in confusion until he whispers to you.

“Do the next thing we talked about.”

“Oh…right.” You sigh.

“I was so, so scared, thank you so much for saving me,” You say as dramatically and helplessly as you could muster up.

He gestures you to continue.

“Oh…a-and um, you were like so, so sexy too. How could I possibly make it up to you?” You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling his hips closer to yours.

“It’s no problem Miss. I don’t need to reap any rewards for good deeds.”

“Great, so if you could just untie me then we can go on our separate ways-“ You start releasing your grip from him but then you hear him huff.

“Y/N,” he whines under the fabric, “You said you’d do this for me.”

“Are you really gonna make me say the next line??” He removes the mask and you see him give you a pout, eyes looking as disappointed as when he missed Stan Lee at Comic Con last year from getting stuck in traffic. He knew it was your biggest weakness, and you couldn’t possibly say no to him after he showed you that.

You groan again, eyes darting away from him as he waits for you to continue.

“Can you help me out with another problem?”

He tugs the mask back on, “Of course, anything for a damsel in distress.”

Fuck this guy.

“Y-You’re making my…my s-spidey senses tingle,” You felt like gagging. “Please, Mr. Spiderman, h-help me out.”

“I can’t possibly leave someone in need like this high and dry, especially a beautiful little seahorse like you.”

“Did you just fucking call me a seahorse-“ Your question was cut short when he brings a hand to your thighs, fingers slowly inches upwards in feather light touches. Your breath hitches in your throat, his other hand already working on unbuttoning your shorts and shimmying them off your hips. He moves downwards and grabs your legs, planting your feet flat on the bed with his hands resting on your knees.

He brings a finger to trace down your clothed slit, sending shivers down your spine. How the fuck could you possibly be turned on after all this? You have no idea.

As he digs a finger deeper along your warmth, you feel your juices soaking your thin lace panties. He uses two fingers to push the fabric to the side, stretching your folds out to get a good look at your already leaking core.

“My my my, I think I’ve found a way to resolve the drought crisis in this town.”

“Oh my god, could you please shut the- oh fuck!”

He dips his head down between your legs, partially lifting up his mask to latch his mouth onto you. He flattens his tongue against you, getting a full taste of your wet juices before nibbling your bundle of nerves. You moan out loud, hands balling into fists as you arch your back and clench your legs around his head.

He pries your thighs open, pushing them flat against the bed as he thrusts his tongue much deeper into you, nose nestling right against your curls.

“F-Fuck, oh my god, Jung-“

“Shhh, my frisky little chinchilla, call me what I want to be called and how we rehearsed,” he hums, nipping lightly on your inner thighs, “And maybe I’ll reward you.”

You have no idea where all these weird ass nicknames are coming from but try your hardest to overlook it, forcing yourself to get back into character for him as much as you hated it. One of his hands are drawing circles on your thighs while the other is slowly prodding at your entrance, ready to take you right where you want to be if you cooperated.

“P-please Spiderman, touch me more.”

“Mmm, yeah? You want more?”

“Yes! Please, give it to me.”

He hums, “Oh yeah?” He removes the mask and looks straight into your eyes. “You want to see how much web this spider can shoot?”

You swear to god you dried up instantly. “Jungkook,” You groan.

“You said you’d play along!”

“Yeah but not when you’re throwing out all you’re dumb superhero puns!” You huff. “Seriously, I think it’s the Sahara down there now.”

He raises a brow at that, scoffing as you see him move his hands to rest on your thighs. He smooths one closer over to your core, his thumb resting directly on your swollen clit, making your breath hitch in your throat.

“Really? You’re not feeling it anymore baby?” He digs the pad of his thumb into you, pressing tight circles that makes you cry out.

“What a shame. I was gonna eat you out for hours and make you cry for my dick so all the neighbors could hear,” He alternates between tracing over your folds and back to your neglected clit that aches for more than just his fingers, “And after I got you all ready for my cock I was really going to fuck you senseless you know.” He licks his lips, probing the tip of his finger at your entrance.

“Watching that pretty little face writhe into the sheets, taking those gorgeous tits into my mouth and make you take it like the good girl I know you are…” You clench over nothing as you whine loudly over that remark. He pushes his finger deep into your cunt, curling upwards and finding your spot almost instantaneously, making you scream his name.

“Pounding into your pussy where I know you love it the most…”

“J-Jungkook,” You whimper as he slowly but harshly presses against the spot that makes you feel like you’re going to explode at any moment.

“Have you begging for my cock and make you cum all night until you couldn’t walk for the next three days,” He hums as you arch yourself into his fingers, attempting to make him go faster.

He pushes your hips down and releases himself from you, the ache in your pussy almost unbearable from the loss of fullness. You slightly tear up from the feeling, looking up at him with your lips between your teeth.

Smirk plastered all over his face he wraps his lips over his wet fingers as he sucks away all your juices. “Mmm,” He tsks, “What a damn shame.”

“Jungkook,” You mewl in the smallest and neediest voice possible, “Please.”

“What is it, baby?” He feigns innocence.

“I need you,” You whimper, “I need you so bad.”

He grunts in response, pretending to think when you knew he loved it when you begged.

“I don’t know, I don’t think you want it enough Y/N,” He says with a sigh, to which you loudly protest.

“No! I want it Jungkook, believe me I want it!” You cry, tears brimming at your cheeks, “I want you to fuck me, make me forget about all those bad guys in the other room. Show them who’s I am, I’ll take it like a good girl Spiderman.”

He tongues his cheek at that, watching you as you spread your legs further to reveal your sopping wet core, completely ready for him. He grunts, reaching to palm himself through his tights as he leans forward to connect your lips. You moan into his mouth, letting him ravage you as his hands explore your body. He hikes your shirt up to your stomach, grazing his fingers over your torso before dipping his fingers under the hem of your bra. He uses his other hand to unclasp them, tossing them aside as he squeezes a handful, making you moan. He disconnects from you to attend to your breasts, kneading and sucking on them as you whimper.

He kisses down your stomach until he reaches where you need him the most. He places a soft, delicate kiss right on top of your pussy, having you writhe from beneath him.

“Call me your daddy.”

“Ahh, there! Wait…I’m, You—what?”  

“You heard me Y/N. Call me your daddy…daddy long legs.” He says it in the most serious expression possible, making you gawk at him. You squeeze his head between your thighs, hoping you could somehow choke his annoying ass to death.

“Are you fucking kidding me Jungkook?!”

He pries your thighs open, dodging your fatal move. “Dead serious. You want this spidey dick or not?”

You throw your head back with a groan, hitting the headboard. More than half the time you don’t get why you’re with this man. Is it really worth all the headaches?

“I’m kidding,” He chuckles. He kisses the inside of your thigh.

“You did good sweetheart, now I’ll reward you.”

Before you can say anything he plunges a finger inside you, lapping up your bundle of nerves as you cry out loud. He reaches upward and massages your breasts, pinching a nipple as he starts to enter a second finger into your tight heat.

“Oh f-fuck! O-oh! Yes, Jungkook!” You moan, wrists burning from the amount of times you pull against the headrest. “Fuck, untie me. I want to t-touch you.”

He doesn’t listen, hands still plunging deeply into your sopping wet core as he laps up the excess. He curls his fingers upwards, making you thrash as he hits your spot relentlessly.

“J-Jungkook, please, please untie me,” You beg, wanting nothing more than just digging your fingers into his brown locks as you grind your hips onto his hot tongue.

You watch as he still doesn’t let up, enjoying every moment of you under submission. You whimper as you look down at him, his erection moments from bursting through the confines of his tights. You see him grinding himself against the bed for relief, rutting his hips harder each time you moan louder for him.

“Baby please, untie me,” You cry, lifting your hips in time to match his thrusts and grind your clit into his wet muscle.

He pulls up, face glistening in all your releases as his tongue swipes over his drenched lips. “I thought you were going to be a good girl for me.”

“I am! I will be, just please, I wanna fucking feel you.” Tears brim your eyes as you give him the best puppy dog eyes you can muster, nails digging deep into your palms that they form crescents. Jungkook knew you hated being restrained when it came to sex and all you wanted to do was grab a fistful of his hair as he worked his mouth against your aching wetness.

“Please,” You beg, “Please baby, I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?”

You knew at the sound of his tone he’s scheming something, but honestly, what could be worse than this?

“Yes, anything!” You groan, hips thrusting upwards to try and get any sort of relief.

“You said it honey bunny.” He kisses your inner thigh and smirks, sitting up and pushing himself off of you making the bed squeak. You watch him curiously as he leans over the side to grab something under the bed. He pulls out a shoebox, placing it beside you two before getting back to sit snugly between your legs again.

“What are you doing? What is that?” You look at him with furrowed brows, getting nervous as the stupid smile plastered on his face gets much wider.

“The best thing man has ever created.” He flips the box open, pulling out an extensively large green neon silicone rod. You stare at the foreign object in his hands, trying to figure out what the fuck it actually was.  

A baton? It didn’t really look like it since the stick got thinner as it reached closer to the tip. Plus, Jungkook was way much kinkier than to buy something like that.

And why is it green? Maybe it’s a peeled cucumber? But Jungkook isn’t that weird to keep it secured in a shoebox under the bed…

Then for some godforsaken reason, it clicked in your head. You didn’t fucking believe it, nor did you seriously want to believe what your boyfriend had ready to use under the bed you two shared almost every night. You immediately tried to squeeze your legs closed but firmly gripped his hips instead.

“Jungkook…are you fucking kidding me?” You said, voice laced in anger and disgust for what he really thought he was going to get away with right now.

He knew that tone anywhere, instantly flipping a switch in his personality to get on your good side.

“L-Look here, my Queen-“

“Don’t.”

You see his shoulders slouch, bottom lip jutting out as his eyes pout along with the rest of his face. “ But Pudding, you said you’d do anything-“

“Jeon,” You cut him off, “If you seriously think for one second that I’m going to let you shove a fucking tentacle dildo up my vagina you have another thing coming!”

Seven billion people in the world. Seven billion you got to choose from.

Seven.

Billion.

And this is who you chose to continue your life with.

You watch him whine above you, crossing his arms like a child that won’t get his way. “But baby, this costed me two paychecks! We can’t let it go to waste!”

“Is that my fault? Where did you even get that thing?!”

“At comic-con last year, duh!”

Of course.

“You could have gotten a comic book, a keychain, a signed photograph, a collectible…and that’s what you chose?”

“This is a collectible! It’s special edition! Look,” He moves to flip a switch on the base of the toy, beaming lights emitting from the tentacle. “It’s Spiderman edition, with blue and red lights. And look at the bottom here.” He shoves the base of the toy toward your face, making you frown in disgust. You see some black scribbling at the bottom, having no clue what he’s even trying to show you.

“What? What are you trying to show me?”

“Stan Lee signed it! The Stan Lee! You know I had to have it since I missed him, but at least I got this now,” He gushes, stroking the signature admiringly as he smiles to himself.

“And okay look, I know we got off on the wrong start with this but I really think you’re going to like all these other features,” He presses, not that you can stop his blabber mouth anyways since you’re literally all tied up. So he continues.

“Look here pickle, there’s a button down here that’ll activate the vibration settings,” He pushes a button at the base and the tentacle comes to life, the tip flopping wildly back and forth.

You flinch, “Jungkook, that seriously would tear my insides up!”

“Sorry that was maxigasm setting,” He pushes a few buttons and the toy slows, gently buzzing from the palm of his hand. “See? So there’s like fourteen different settings you can play around with. And as amazing as that all sounds, that’s not even the best part.” You hate the way he makes it sound, and you knew that this was just going to get much worse.

He turns the toy and you see a red switch, his finger lightly tracing over it. “And here fruit loop, here’s where the show really begins.” He presses the button and before you even comprehend what’s happening, white blobs ejaculate out from the tip of the dildo and onto your thigh, the liquid slowly streaming down your inner legs.

You scream instinctively, thrashing yourself against him. “What the fuck Jungkook?!”

“It squirts!” He gleams, bunny smile spread on his face while the red and blue blinking tentacle vibrator toy spurts out more liquid from its tip.

“Why would you buy that?! I don’t want tentacle cum on me GET IT OFF ME!”

“What? You really don’t like it?” His brows furrow, slight confusion written on his face. “But I even got it strawberry flavored, I know it’s your favorite.” He swipes the liquid from your thighs onto his pointer finger, slowly bringing it to your face. “Here, just give it a taste-“

You kick his face with your heel, throwing him backwards with the toy flying out of his hands and onto the edge of the bed.

He groans from the floor, rubbing his chin as he sits back up to give you an annoyed pout.

“What was that for?!”

“Can you quit being such a weirdo? Can we do something normal for once-“

“Like me fucking your face?”

You roll your eyes at that, but then the perfect idea comes to mind. You quickly cover up your annoyance with a sweet smile, “Okay, sure.”

Jungkook looks at you quizzically, thinking you wouldn’t agree so easily. “For real?”

“Yes, on one condition.” You pull your hands forward from the bed post, “Untie me and no tentacles.”

He pouts hearing your response, but nonetheless you can tell he’s thinking about it. You see him twiddling his thumbs, something he does when he’s deep in thought as he weighs the pros and cons of the situation. You know just the right buttons to push to get your way though.

“Jungkook, baby, you know you want it as bad as I do.” You lick your lips slowly, making sure he gets a good look at your pink muscle. 

“I want to taste your cock so bad,” You whine, arching your back off the bed, “Can I? Pretty please?” 

You saw the glint in his eyes, and immediately you knew you got the hook and sinker. You smile at him when you see him get up from his spot, seemingly making his way to untie you from the bedposts. Victory is not much far from here, and then you can finally give him a taste of his own medicine-

You hear the bed creak from the side, and next thing you know Jungkook is straddling your chest. 

“What are you-” You moan when he grabs your breasts, kneading them and pinching your sensitive nipple.

“You want it that bad huh? It’d be torture if I made you wait any longer,” He pulls his tights down his thighs, exposing his rock hard erection. You can’t help but drool a little over seeing the precum that leaks so deliciously down his cock, unconsciously making you lick your lips once more. 

He grabs your breasts once again, slipping himself in between. You can’t deny how fucking hot this is, watching his face contort in pure ecstasy as he uses you to relieve himself. You both groan at the feeling, your mewls spilling out between your lips as he flicks your nipples with each thrust. It makes you completely forget your proposition just a minute ago.

“Open up for me.” You oblige, sticking your tongue out when he pushes the tip of his warm cock to your mouth. You suckle on it, taking the opportunity to lap up all his precum and take the rest that’s threatening to spill out. He grunts above you, slowly pushing himself further into your tight little mouth.

“Fuck yes, that’s it.”  You relax your muscles, letting him guide his way into you. Your mouth always gets so full, his girth stretching you out in all the painfully right ways. 

“You’re such a good girl, taking me like this.” He’s halfway into you before he pulls back out, brushing his angry tip against your bottom lip. He decides to rest his hands on the back of your head, positioning you the right way for what’s to come. 

“Y/N!” He pushes back into you slowly as to not hurt you, going much deeper than the first time. The tears are already threatening to fall, but you can’t help but love every second of Jungkook whining above you, praising you, falling apart above you. As much as it hurts, you love when he really gets into it, thrusting deeply into your mouth that you feel him almost everywhere inside of you, making you gag all over his throbbing cock. 

“Mmm, yes, ah! J-just like that Sweetheart,” he groans.

Saliva spills from between your lips and down your face with each thrust, your head aching a bit from each time Jungkook braces himself when his tip reaches the back of your throat. You swallow each time he praises you, making you a moaning mess all over his dick.

“God, you’re so fucking hot,” He grunts, his balls slapping against your chin, “My cock was made to fuck your pretty little mouth.” He pulls out to let you breathe, tapping his dick against your bottom lip. You stick your tongue out to get another taste of him, making him hum.

“Look at you, so hungry for my cock.” He rubs himself against your cheek, letting you suck on his balls. He groans, pushing himself away from you. You whine at the lost, making him chuckle.

“You can’t sweetheart, I’ll come all over your beautiful face.” He resorts to pressing himself against your breast, the tip flicking your erect nipple. 

“Fuck,” You cry, wanting for him to do nothing more than what he just proposed, “Come all over me Jungkook, please.”

He grunts at your response, grinding himself harshly between the valley of your breasts. 

“As much as I want to, I’d rather fuck you full of my come.” You whimper at his words, your pussy throbbing over nothing as you clench your thighs in attempt to relieve yourself. It doesn’t work though, and what makes matters much worse is when you look up to see Jungkook closing a tight fist below his tip, veins popping from his neck and deep pants spilling out from his mouth above you. He slaps his cock against your chest a few more times, slowly regaining his composure again with a relieved sigh.

“You know, you’re so good to me.” He scoots back enough to lean down and give you a soft kiss, “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.” He moves to the headboard to untie your wrists, releasing you from the fake webs. 

Fucking finally.

You immediately rub your wrists, flinching at the red lines etched into your skin. He grabs your wrists and kisses them, “You good, baby? I didn’t go too far did I?”

Instead of answering you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a deep kiss. He moans into your mouth, letting you sneak your tongue into his warm cavern. Your tongues dance along each others as a fight for dominance, but Jungkook is almost putty in your arms once your lips wrap around to suck on his warm muscle, making him whimper. You take this as a chance to flip your positions, rolling around so you’re straddling him and his head is nestled between the pillows. He looks so fucked out from under you, cheeks tinted pink and sweat running down the sides of his face.

You lean down to pepper kisses down his jawline. “Jungkook,” You whisper as seductively as you can in his ear, “Are you feeling how wet you made me?” He moans when you grind yourself against him, letting out a breathy fuck yes as you continue to suck and nibble on the sensitive parts of his neck. You slip one of your hands down to your core, coating two fingers in your juices before bringing them back up to Jungkook’s plush lips. You sink your fingers into his mouth, humming as you feel his tongue wrap around your digits.

“Do you like that?” He moans around you to tell you how much he enjoys it.

“Do you want more?” You slip your fingers out with a pop, leaning down to kiss him once again. You feel him all over, running your hands up his biceps and guiding his arms slowly above his head in the most subtle way possible. 

“Do you want to feel me? Do you want me to sink down on your cock and fuck you til’ you fill me completely up with your come?” 

“God, yes,” He whimpers, so lost in your dirty talk and you nibbling against his jawline that he didn’t even notice you pinning his wrists above his head. You smile against his skin, 

“Well, you’re just going to have to wait until I’m done with you, bitch.” 

You secure the webs around his wrists, pulling his hands down to settle behind his head.

“What are you-” You muffle him up with his mask that was mindlessly thrown on the bedside counter, making sure it was lodged in there enough that he can’t make a peep.

“You’ve been talking way too much tonight babe, I think it’s time to shut you up.” He squints at that, brows furrowed as he tries to release himself from the webs.

“Nuh uh uh, you’re not going anywhere.” You climb over him quickly, trapping his arms under your thighs. His hands are stuck under his head with the weight of your body over him, not allowing him to move an inch. You wipe his hair out from his forehead, slicking it back from his face to meet his eyes. 

“It’s my turn.”

You pull the mask out of him, not even sparing him a second to breathe when you lower your pussy right onto his mouth. You moan when his tongue meets your neglected clit, relief finally washing over you as you sink yourself deeper into him. He moans, the vibrations racking through you as you grind yourself further into his mouth to feel as much as you can.

“Fuck, Jungkook!” You cry, one hand holding the bed frame to steady yourself while the other has a firm grip in his brown locks. You can hear the dribbling of your juices spilling out from his mouth as he tries his best to capture every drop. He delves his tongue deeper into your pussy, making sure you’re getting fucked by it while you grind your clit against his nose.

“Oh god, yes, Jungkook,” You’re going insane as he thrusts his wet muscle repeatedly into you, your thighs tightening against the sides of his face. You roll your hips into him, mewling as he doesn’t stop pleasuring you from below. As much as you didn’t want to stop, you lift yourself up briefly to let him breathe.

Both of you are panting, eyes boring into each other as you collect yourselves for a moment.

“-get it,” You hear him murmur from below you. 

“What?” You looked at him in confusion, not catching what he said before.

“I said, you’re gonna fucking get it,” he growls, “Just wait.” You’re sure you’re supposed to be a little scared of his threat, but can’t help but think about how fucking hot he looks right now. His jaw is clenched, chin and mouth glistened in you. You swipe a bit from his face and place your thumb on his bottom lip, smearing it nicely over him. His tongue darts out to lick your thumb, making you hum. 

“Don’t worry babe, I know I’m gonna get what I want.” You use your thumb to pull his lip downward, “Open up for me.” 

He complies, sticking his tongue out as your pussy hovers inches above him. You let your juices drip from out of you, groaning as you watch him catch every drop with a satisfied hum. 

“Do you love tasting me?” You hear him hum a god yes before you lower yourself onto him once more, throwing your head back once he starts assaulting your core in all the right ways. Your toes curl in on you as you ride his face, whimpering his name as the headboard thuds loudly against the thin walls. 

“Oh my god, Jungkook, yes, yes, there!” You cry, egging him on further to let you reach your high.

“S-so, ah! Fucking good,” you moan as you continue grinding into his hot tongue, your cries slowly progressing into high pitched screams when he gets himself in deeper than ever before.

“J-Jungkook, Jungkook, g-gonna, ah!” You dig your nails into the headboard when you come, riding your high out as he continues to thrust himself in and out of you. He moves to roll his tongue against your nub, causing you to cry out once more as your hips grow more erratic through your orgasm. The feeling keeps coming in waves, and Jungkook never seizes until your hips slowly come to a halt, pulling yourself off of him as the overstimulation becomes too much to handle. 

You rest your head against his chest, exhaustion washing over you as your eyelids become heavy. You always fall asleep rather quickly after an orgasm, especially after a good one like that. You’re already slowly drifting off to sleep when you hear a loud tear above you, making you flinch. You look up to find Jungkook’s wrists free from the confines of the web, hands slowly moving to get a firm grip on your waist. He’s staring daggers at you, nostrils flaring with his lips in a tight, thin line. 

Fear floods you when you realize you really got yourself in for it. “J-Jungkook,”

You yelp when he flips you over, back hitting the bed. He wastes no time shoving your legs opened, resting himself in between. 

“Wait, baby-” 

You cry when he slaps your clit, rubbing a tight circle with the pad of his thumb. He uses his pointer and middle finger to trace your drenched folds, tsking as he looks up at you with dark eyes.

“You’re such a fucking brat, you know that?” He continues to sink his fingers into your wetness, bringing them up for you to see all your release.

“Taking what you want, then making a mess like this and not even bothering to clean it up. Such a spoiled fucking brat.” 

He moves his fingers to your mouth, pushing them in for you to lap up all your excess. You moan, using your tongue to get each and every drop that he offers to you.

“That’s right, clean your cum off my fingers, nice and clean.” He pulls out with a pop, pushing his hips closer to the back of your thighs. He moves your legs up so that it’s more elevated, then pulls your arms down towards him.

“Hold your legs up and spread yourself.” You listen, not wanting to push his buttons any further. You hold your legs by hooking your arms under your knees, spreading yourself out so that he has the perfect view of your pussy below. He grunts, biting his lip as he takes hold of his raging cock to give it a few strokes. You feel a spark in you ignite once more when you watch him pump himself, teeth caught between his lips as he stares intently at your wetness dripping down to the sheets. He stops himself and grabs hold of your inner thighs, placing his cock right in between your folds. He begins slowly grinding himself against you, pushing forward so his tip brushes against your clit ever so deliciously, making you moan.

He grunts above you, wet squelches echoing through the room as your slickness coats his length each time he ruts into your folds. As good as it feels, you can’t ignore the growing ache of wanting to be filled up by him, to have him ramming his cock into you and making you forget your own name for a few days.

“J-Jungkook,” You mewl, “Fuck, just put it in me!”

“No,” He grunts, “This is your punishment. You’re not getting it so easy this time, Y/N.”

He pushes harder against you, his tip almost being exactly where you needed him to be with each thrust but missing your entrance by literally a hair. Your pussy clenches over nothing each stroke, making you cry in frustration as tears start pricking your eyes. You try to grind back into him to feel more, but the position he has you in makes it impossible.

“P-please, Jungkook, just fuck me,” You whimper below him.

He ruts into you faster, your legs shaking from all the teasing. 

“No.” He pants, “This is what you g-get for being a b-brat.” He looks just as fucked out as you are, and although you know he wants nothing more than to drill you into his mattress, when he’s set on punishing you he keeps his word. You don’t know how long he’ll go on with this, but you’re so desperate you’re resorting for other ways to relieve yourself.

You moan, moving one of your hands to rub your clit. Jungkook shoves your hand away, 

“Don’t even dare, Princess.” 

You groan, hands balling into fists against the bedsheets. You were going insane.

“Jungkook, you have to let me- fuck, do something!” You whimper,  “At least fucking let me touch m-myself.” 

He rolls his hips into you slowly now, but deep and hard enough to have you writhing underneath him. 

“You want to touch yourself that bad? Fine, I’ll let you.” 

You sigh in relief when you hear him say that, reaching for your clit again. He grabs your hand before you reach it, shaking his head. “Not with that. With this.”

He grabs the tentacle dildo that you thought was long forgotten on the edge of the bed, the distasteful neon green filling your vision as he shoves it in front of your face. 

“A-are you fucking serious?” You thought you were done playing his games.

Apparently not.

“Take it or leave it babe, it’s up to you.” His cock sinks deeper into your folds once more, rubbing you in just the right ways. You can feel your orgasm building, but you know you need that little push to finally get you over the edge. 

You can’t believe he gave you this ultimatum. As much as you fucking hated this, you were so desperate that you didn’t have any other choice.

“UGH, FINE!” You groan out loud, grabbing the toy from his hand.

He has the biggest smile on his dumb face as he watches you play with the settings, making sure to avoid the deathly strawberry cum squirting option. You finally find the button that brings the toy to life, vibrating mildly against the palm of your hand. After having an inner battle with yourself that Jungkook is probably never going to let this go but you’re way too fucking horny to even care right now, you slowly bring the toy to your clit. You jerk when it makes contact with your nub, closing your eyes as the vibrations actually feel...really nice.

You play with it a little, moving it around to graze over your clit as you get more and more into the vibrations. You click the button to change it so it goes a bit faster, and after circling it around yourself you find the perfect spot that makes your toes curl. 

“Holy fuck,” You moan, grinding yourself into the toy as Jungkook continues to rub your folds.

“Someone likes this more than she thought she would,” You hear him comment, already seeing the smug smirk on his face but you’re too lost in your own world to care. You continue to circle the toy around you, your clit swelling as Jungkook holds your waist down to keep you from squirming so much. Just as you were really getting into it, the toy is whipped from your hand.

���What the fuck are you- oh!” Jungkook sets the toy at an even faster pace, pushing the toy harshly against your clit that has you a moaning mess.

“F-fuck, oh my god, Jungkook!” You cry, nails raking down his toned stomach.

“Shit, this is so fucking hot,” He grunts, grinding himself harder against you and allowing his tip to brush against the vibrator each time he thrusts, making him whine. “You fucking like that? Want more baby?”

You feel him tracing the toy away from your nub to your lower folds, brushing them against your entrance. Before he can push the toy into you you grab his wrist, halting his movement.

“O-one more move Jeon, and I’ll cut your dick off,” You pant tirelessly. Yeah, you’re desperate and you wanna be fucked, but you’re not THAT desperate.

You hear a small okay from him, bringing the toy back to your neglected clit. You moan, arching your back as he presses the toy against you, circling it around making you see stars. You feel your orgasm coming, and just when you thought it couldn’t feel any better, Jungkook clicks the toy to the highest setting, pushing his cock deep into your tight heat so suddenly you scream. 

“Jungkook!” Your body arches upward abruptly, the toy stimulating your clit intensely while Jungkook’s cock pounds into you simultaneously. All these feelings make your eyes roll back, thighs clenching around the toy and your pussy sucking in Jungkook that he has to stop before he spills into you. He holds you as you come down from your amazing high, peppering light kisses against your jawline. You feel limp, completely exhausted from this whole day that you want to take a 3 day nap. 

The toy continues to vibrate against your clit, pleasure slowly turning into pain as the overstimulation gets too intense.

“Mmm, Jungkook, take it off,” You groan. You see him visibly fumbling with it, pressing the keys but not bothering to take it off.

“Stop messing around and- ah! take it off,” you growl, not wanting to play around anymore. 

“I-I’m trying,” He says, and you feel him attempting to pull the toy off of you but your clit gets pulled with it, making you cry out. You feel the vibrations through your core and throughout your body, all your senses going into overload. The toy rapidly abuses your clit, and Jungkook isn’t making it any better as he basically pinches your nub along with each pull. You fist the sheets, whimpering as you feel another orgasm resurfacing, but the pain mixed with pleasure is almost too much for you to handle. You clench around his cock that’s still buried deep within you, causing him to jerk his hips forward with a moan. He hits your spot with that, pushing you over the edge once again and making you come a second time embarrassingly quick over his swelled cock. Jungkook whimpers as you tighten so deliciously around him, mumbling out fucks as he can’t help but rut himself into you a few times, you crying out his name as you finished riding out your high. 

Once your hips have fallen back down and you’re begging for him to make it stop, he finds the setting on the toy to turn it off. You pant, hair sticking to your face as sweat slides down your temples. 

“W-what the hell was that?” You manage to say over stuttered breaths, trying to muster up the best glare you could in his direction.

You see the slight panic in his eyes, and when he looks up you see him cover it up with innocent eyes and pouty lips. 

“Um, spider monkey...there’s just been a slight little hiccup,” He bites his lip, giving you a tight lipped smile.

“What? What is it?”

“W-well, um, it’s just-”

“Just spit it out, Jungkook.” You groan.

“It’s...the toy, it’s kind of...stuck?” You look down when he says that, seeing the toy still pressed up against your pussy.

“It’s what?” You look at him incredulously, blinking slowly as to process what he just said to you.

“It...one of the suctions on the toy, your...” He stutters, not having to even finish his sentence when you look down again, more intently.

You see your clit lodged into one of the suctions on the tentacle, completely wrapped around it. You scream when you see it, the worst scenarios coming to mind with each passing second.

“Oh my god, no no no-” You take the toy and pull it upwards, but you’re still so sensitive that it pains you so you stop. You try again, but to no avail.

You cry in frustration, throwing your head back into the pillows and covering your face in your hands.

“...B-baby?” Jungkook calls out to you after a few seconds of silence, concern laced in his voice.

“My clit...” You whisper, “My poor, poor clit.” You scream into your hands.

“Y-Y/N, it’s going to be okay-” 

“No it won’t!” You cry, “It’s in there! It won’t come out! You’re going to have to take me to the ER and they’re going to have to cut off my clit in this sex crazed tentacle act!” Jungkook tries to calm you down but you don’t listen and continue your tangent.

“She didn’t even do anything wrong, she just came out to have a good time,” You whimper in your palms, “She didn’t deserve this.”

“She?...Um, okay Y/N, she’s gonna be fine, I’m telling you babe,” He presses, reaching over to grab his phone. “I have a solution.”

“You do?” You look up at him, hopelessness washing away as you watch him tap away on his phone.

“Yeah, I really thought about it once I bought this, and just in case of an emergency I decided to get a warranty,” He continues pushing some buttons on his phone. “The dildo comes with troubleshooting with the manufacturer, I even have an app for it. Isn’t that cool?”

“So you just type in what model the toy is in here, and then it’ll transfer you over to your own personal assistant. And then from here...”

You see him moving the phone horizontally, angling it a certain way. 

“...Then you just take a picture and send it to them, telling them what the problem was. Then they’ll hit us back up in about an hour, and we’re all good-” You kick the phone out of his hand, hitting him in the chin along with it. He groans as he throws his head back, rubbing the spot you clipped him at. 

“Ow!”

“DON’T TAKE A PICTURE OF THIS! Why would you send a picture of my pussy to some rando!?” 

“Y/N, they are trained professionals. Privacy is their best policy. This has probably happened lots of times before-”

“I’M NOT SENDING NUDES TO YOUR DILDO COMPANY!” 

“I don’t know how to help you then,” He huffs, continuing to talk under his breath about how amazing their customer service is and how they would probably send some new products for this mess.

“You know, they’d probably even give me a money back guarantee over this.”

“My fucking clit is priceless Jeon, priceless.” You groan, not knowing what to do. “Fuck, my life is over! What do I even do now?! How do I live?!” 

How do you even tell someone about this? You let your weeb boyfriend mess around with his signature tentacle dildo collectible on you and then a freak accident happened, making you lose a vital part of your body? You’re going to die without your clit. What would people tell your parents at your funeral? How could you even show up to the ceremony, clitless?

“Y/N, stop being so dramatic. You have me!”

“No! That’s not enough!” You huff. His eyes widen and he touches his chest, visibly offended.

“Wow, I can’t believe you just said that.” He purses his lips as he watches you mourn over what you thought was a grave loss, assessing the situation. Having you mope like that is actually making him go soft. He has to fix this quick.

Then an idea pops into his head.

“Okay sweetheart, I think I know how to get this baby off of you.” You watch him pull out and push himself backwards, his face level with the toy. You look at him questioningly, wondering if he’s going to pull some careless act that’ll really have you saying goodbye to your best friend. She’s been there for all your life, all your ups and your downs, and you can’t lose her now after Jungkook’s one stupid act.

“It looks like its lodged up in there pretty good, but I think with enough slickness it’ll slip off.”

“And what are you gonna use?” You look at him, mildly concerned.

He looks at you smugly, “My best weapon.” 

Before you can respond he dips his head down, pushing his tongue to partly wrap around the suction. The sudden contact makes you yelp, thighs wrapping around his head. He uses his hands to keep your legs opened, lapping at the suction to get it more wet. You shudder when you feel the tip of his tongue sink into you, making you grab a fistful of his hair. 

“Jungkook,” You moan, “A-are you sure this is even gonna-ah! work?” It’s hard to concentrate when you feel his lips at your core, his tongue working wonders against you even though he doesn’t mean to. 

“I’m Spiderman baby, I’m always here to save the day. And in this case, my mission is to rescue this clitoris-” You shove his face deeper into your cunt, muffling him up.

“Okay, just do what you gotta do Jungkook and for the love of god, stop talking.”

He mumbles something incoherent, but nonetheless gets back to work. You feel him working against your core, trying his best to soak the area enough to try and slip off the toy. He grabs hold of the toy, slowly pulling it upward but you still feel the pressure of it pulling you with it. The pain gets masked by the pleasure of  Jungkook pressing his tongue against your spot, slowly making your insides tingle with a burning want as you feel your lower stomach coiling for more contact. You instinctively pull his face closer to you, moaning as your hips start slowly grinding into him. He pushes you down firmly, causing you to stop your ministrations.

“Stop moving, I think it’s almost off,” He continues to run his tongue against the base of your clit, making your pussy ache. You try your best to stay still for him, but his mouth feels so good you’re literally on the brink of another orgasm. You try to recount all the weird ass nicknames Jungkook’s been giving you all day, all the superhero puns he’s probably been waiting to say for months on this day, anything that’ll stop you from thinking about his wet muscle working you wonderfully down below. Just as you were repeating daddy long legs in your head, you couldn’t contain the loud moan when he tugs the toy upward a bit harshly, his lips wrapped around most of you as his tongue assaults your nub. You feel it, the wave of adrenaline rushing up just to drown you in a feeling of pure ecstasy. But before you can reach it, Jungkook removes the toy with a pop, whipping his face upwards to look at you with his big bunny smile.

“I did it! I did it! It worked, I told you!” He gushes over himself, “See, I knew I could save you! Spiderman is still as sexy and reliable as ever-” 

You cut off his little praise pitch early by getting up and shoving him down to the bed, crawling up on him to straddle his waist. You lean down to kiss him before he can speak, his lips melting into the kiss as his arms wrap around your waist.

“Thank you, Jungkook,” You kiss him again, “But we’re never fucking do that ever again.” He hums an I guess before you grab hold of his long neglected member, pumping it and making him shudder.

“You still haven’t come?” He shakes his head, cursing as you take one of his nipples into your mouth. You lightly suck on it, earning a moan from him.

“Well, even though it was your fault from the start you ended up fixing it, so I guess I owe you one.” You use that as an excuse when you’re really desperate to feel him inside you at this moment. You lift yourself up to line yourself with his cock, already ready for him from his previous actions. 

You sigh as you feel his tip pressed against your entrance, “How much do you want this?”

“So bad, fuck, so bad Y/N.” He practically whimpers, giving you a spike of pride that you could make him act this way.

His cock slowly spreads your walls as you sink down, filling you up so well that your legs feel numb. 

“Ah! Shit, you’re so-god, so-mm, good.” He mewls.

“Mmm, yeah?” You take him inch by inch, his moans encouraging you to keep going as you finally bottom out, sitting on him snugly as you savor the moment you’ve been waiting for all day. You grip his hands that are secured against your waist and start moving, your moans synchronizing with each time you move up and down his length.

“Y-you’re so fucking tight,” He groans, nails pressing further into the skin of your hips, “So fucking warm.”

“Yeah? You like me, ah, swallowing up your cock?” You move your hands to his chest, angling yourself forward so that you can fuck him at a harder pace.

“Fuck yes, yes, oh my god, you’re taking my cock so good.” His mouth latches onto one of your nipples, sucking on it as you roll your hips into him. He’s reaching you so deep from this angle, his hips slightly bucking up to push himself further into you.

His hands make their way to your ass, squeezing them harshly before giving you a firm slap on one of your cheeks. You moan, raising yourself from your position so now you’re directly bouncing on his cock.

“Y/N! Shit,” He whines, “Faster, god please go faster.” 

“Yeah baby? You want it harder?” You love hearing him beg for more; it was one of the hottest things you’ve probably ever heard in your lifetime. You see his eyes start to water, teeth sunken into his bottom lip as he holds onto you for dear life. You moan, pushing yourself to go harder against him just to hear him cry your name, seeing him slowly lose it because of you.

“Yes, yes, ah! Fuck...Y/N,” He whimpers your name like a mantra below you, bed creaking faster and begging for mercy as the continuous slap, slap, slaps echo throughout the room. 

“God! R-right there Y/N, please.” You can feel your ass almost bruising from the onslaught of you slamming down on him, your pussy aching just as delightfully around his thick cock. As much as you want to keep going, your pace starts slowing down, the soreness in your thighs finally getting the better of you. You resort to rolling your hips, moving yourself back and forth against him to try and keep the momentum going.

“Tired, sweetheart?” You bite your lip, slowly nodding as he chuckles. He pushes the wet strands of your hair back from your face, leaning up to kiss you. The kiss is soft, warm, nothing intense like before. He kisses you like he could almost break you, but you can feel all the emotions tumbling down on you through that one simple kiss. 

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” He smiles, grabbing you by the hips and flipping you guys over, careful not to separate you two as your back makes contact the bed. 

“I’m really glad I could call you mine.” He moves his hands under your head and lifts you up, moving some extra pillows to make sure you’re comfortable. He moves himself closer into you, adjusting the back of your thighs so they’re resting against him rather than hanging up in the air.

“Better?” You hum, wrapping your arms around his neck to connect your lips again. Times like these are the ones that bring you back to reality, making you remember you chose the right guy. Although he has his weird little kinks and he can be a complete idiot sometimes, Jungkook was always there for you. He always made sure you were comfortable, always there for reassurance for anything. Always kind, always loving. 

“I love you,” You whispered against his lips, making him smile into the next kiss.

“I love you too, Y/N.” He wraps your legs around his waist, holding your face as he kisses you much deeper. His hips slowly start moving, making your breath hitch in your throat.

His strokes were slow but deep, making sure he was taking his time with you. He kissed your cheeks, your forehead, your nose, your lips. He covered your body in bits of love, each one letting you know how much you mean to him. Once he hit that spot that had you arching your back and mewling his name, he set a faster pace.

“Mmm, right there baby?” 

“Yes! Jungkook, yes, right fucking there,” You cry, holding him closer to you. He thrusts deeper into you, his toned thighs slapping against your ass as the headboard bangs against the wall. He makes sure to rut against that spot, making you clench harder around his aching cock. 

“Jungkook!” You moan his name repeatedly as he whispers sweet nothings into your ear. He kisses the corner of your mouth as you lose yourself in him, your nails raking down his broad shoulders.

“Come for me sweetheart, I wanna feel you all over me,” He snakes a hand down to your bundle of nerves, pressing the pad of his thumb against it in tight, quick circles.

You cry out his name when you come, clenching so tightly around his cock he can’t help but come with you, his seed spilling deep into you as he fucks you both through your high. You feel him filling you up, some of it leaking out of your core as he slows down but doesn’t pull out. You both pant against each other, covered in sweat as he falls on top of you. You brush his sweaty hair back from his face that rests on your chest, tracing his jawline as you regulate your breathing. 

He looks up at you, chin resting on your skin and you both tirelessly laugh. 

“I really don’t want to let you go, you’re so warm,” He murmurs, keeping himself in you for a bit longer.

“Well, we have to clean up, then we can cuddle naked and watch Naruto.” He mumbles a fine at your offer, knowing that he couldn’t say no to that. He gets off of you and slowly slips out of you, a mixture of both you and him spilling out and onto the sheets. 

“You look really good like that you know,” Licking his lips as he watches your wetness make more of a mess below, “I could literally get off on just this image.” 

You smile and roll your eyes, “Just get something to clean this up, okay?” You’re waiting for him to move off the bed to grab a towel, but instead he grabs your legs, dipping his head down to your core. Before you can stop him he laps up his own cum along with yours, sucking on all the excess as you grip his hair. He juts his tongue into you, getting every drop from you and making you moan tiredly. It’s too much, and you force his mouth off of you. 

“Okay Jungkook,” you whine.

He reluctantly lets you go, licking his lips when he looks up at you. “Fine, but just because you were so good to me today.” He winks at you before he sits up off the bed, walking to the closet to grab a towel.

“You know, this was honestly the only weird fantasy I’ve ever had, and you’re amazing for letting me live it out.”

You scoff at that, making him turn back to look at you with a quirked brow. 

“What?”

“Jungkook, I know your pervy weeb ass better than anyone and know for a fact this is not the only fantasy you’ve had.” You almost can’t contain the laugh that’s bubbling up in your throat.

“I’m serious Y/N! Okay, the tentacle was a little extra, I know, but that was just because Stan Lee was all over it, I had to have it!”

“Don’t say Stan Lee was all over it, that sounds so gross!” You gag.

“Okay, not like that! Not like how you were all over it, which by the way, was really really hot-”

“Jungkook!”

“Kidding! But you know what I meant okay...” He huffs, “Anyways, you make it sound like I’m some weirdo that has a cosplay kink. I like comics, yeah, I like anime, yeah, but that doesn’t mean I want to go on some sex crazed superhero roleplay series-” 

Just as he’s talking he opens the door to his closet, making a litter of boxes and clothes fall on the floor in front of you two. You look down to see the mess, and the first thing that caught your eye surprisingly wasn’t even shocking to you. 

You see a full on, decked out suit that spilled from what looked like a box stored deep inside his closet. The top half of the suit was all gold, with what looked like actual gold gems along the neckline. A gold, expensive looking belt was also included in the attire, and the bottom half of the suit was bright green that was covered in what looked like..scales?

You both looked at the costume and then back at each other, Jungkook’s eyes widening as he looks at you in panic.

“Y/N, I can explain-”

You both hear a loud clang from the closet, a stick about to tumble onto the floor but he catches it before it falls. You both look at the gold trident in his hand, covered in sequins and diamonds that you don’t even want to bother asking how many paychecks it must’ve costed.

“...Aquaman? Really?”

“Y/N, look, it’s not what you think! When I was trying to go to DragonCon two years ago they had this little collective superhero convention and Stan Lee was-”

“Jungkook!”

[rejectofsociety]

So, We Got Detention

A/N: Hi! I got this idea to write a series (I guess?) of one-shots that all take place during/around the time of Spiderman: Homecoming— all of which will showcase Peter and his classmates. So, here’s the first of six(?) fics. I hope you enjoy 1.2 of MJ and Peter being awkward but trying their best anyways.

I’ll put it under the cut as to avoid crowding your dash, but you can also read it here on Ao3.

✧༺✦✮✦༻∞　　∞༺✦✮✦༻✧

Peter left his last class of the day with his head down shamefully. Ned pat his back reassuringly then muttered a goodbye, not lingering too long as he had a bus to catch. Peter briefly flashed a half-assed smile and quickly returned the goodbye. However, Peter was not lucky enough to be heading home. He had been sentenced to two hours of after school detention due to missing his first two classes that morning.

He trudged down the emptying halls towards detention, dreading the “So, You Got Detention” lecture that he would be forced to hear on loop for the next two hours straight. If he ever saw Captain America again, he might knock him out just for agreeing to make that stupid video.

“Hey, Peter,” a voice called.

Peter whirled around to see his classmate, Michelle, walking up to him with a little gadget in her hand. She held it out to him and his eyes widened slightly upon seeing part of one of his webshooters laying in her palm.

“You dropped this in science,” she explained nonchalantly, although it sounded like she was deliberately trying to sound casual instead of letting it come naturally.

“Thanks,” he quickly snatched it out of her hand and stuffed it into the side pocket of his backpack.

She nodded slightly, eying him suspiciously, “what is it?”

Peter continued walking with Michelle at his side, “just part of a science project.”

“We don’t have any projects in science right now,” Michelle pointed out.

“I-it’s not a school project,” Peter rapidly lied, “it’s something I’ve been working on in my own time.”

“Instead of doing your homework?” She guessed.

Peter laughed slightly, his mood brightening at the comment. She raised her eyebrows at him then her lips gradually melted into a small smile. She hadn’t intended for her remark to be funny, but Peter had the best laugh and the most contagious smile out of anyone she knew, so she didn’t mind.

“I mean- no, yeah-“ he rubbed the back of his neck, “yeah, basically.”

She snorted a laugh and shook her head slightly, “well, good luck with that.”

“Thanks,” Peter’s lips quirked into a tiny half-smile as they reached the end of the hallway, “bye, Michelle.”

“Bye, Peter,” she returned.

The two went quiet, both expecting the other to start walking in the opposite. But, in a moment of brain-breaking awkwardness, they both turned down the same hall, still walking side-by-side.

Peter pressed his lips into a thin line and Michelle felt her face heat up. The hall was deserted and uncomfortably quiet, leaving the only sounds to be their shuffling footsteps and Michelle’s heart pounding nervously. Peter swallowed thickly as he stared at the ground. Now what? They had said their goodbyes, the conversation was over, and neither knew the other well enough to make a conversation.

“So, um... a-are you going to detention too?” Michelle forced herself to ask, internally scolding herself for sounding so awkward.

“Yeah,” Peter replied although he thought that was obvious, “are you?”

“Yes,” she raised an eyebrow, still avoiding eye contact, “I just-“

“I know. I knew it the moment I said it,” he quickly corrected himself.

Michelle pressed her lips together and nodded stiffly. Peter’s face heated up a little, feeling both embarrassed and guilty about cutting her off.

At the same time, he and Michelle went to speak.

“So, what’re you-“

“Why are-“

They both stopped frantically and started over.

“Sorry, I-“

“I didn’t mean to-“

Again, they stopped mid-sentence and averted their gazes to their feet. Did the detention classroom just get really far away? Peter thought to himself, and I feel like it’s really hot in here. The halls are normally cold. Michelle’s kinda pretty- oh my gosh shut up! Did I say that out loud?! I feel like I said that out loud!

“What’re you in for?” Michelle quickly said, taking her chance while Peter was quiet.

“Skipping class,” he answered, his tense shoulders relaxing just the slightest bit, “what about you?”

“Oh, I didn’t do anything. I just like drawing people in a crisis,” she replied and almost visibly cringed the moment the words left her mouth.

Seriously, Michelle? She mentally criticized, literally no one wants to hear that! That’s so weird. Peter doesn’t need to know about you’re stupid little obsession-

“That’s cool,” Peter responded and the genuine interest in his voice made her heart leap. Then he joked: “you should draw me.”

“Yeah,” she managed a small chuckle, ignoring the feverish feeling of blood rushing to her cheeks, “I should.”

“And you can show me when you’re done?” He requested.

“Totally.”

As she spoke, the corners of her mouth twitched into a smile and Peter’s eyes trailed briefly to her lips. He felt a faint fluttering sensation in his stomach. It was brief, but lasted long enough for him to notice. It felt almost like someone had lit a spark inside him— it was warm and pleasant.

But, as he entered the detention classroom, Peter quickly shook off the feeling and chose to think nothing of it.

The two took their seats and Peter felt a pang of disappointment when he realized Michelle was sitting a few seats away from him. He couldn’t quite identify where the disappointment came from, though. It’s not like they would be able to talk to each other for the two hours they’d be stuck together. Maybe he just desired some close company.  

Either way, there was no point in lingering on Michelle and Peter couldn’t blame her for not wanting to sit with him. It would probably be incredibly awkward anyways, considering the fact that the two had just barely managed a stiff, two minute conversation.

I wish Liz was here. She’s so pretty— really sweet too, Peter thought to himself as an undeniable smile crept across his lips. I should ask her to the Homecoming dance before someone else does. Geez, how do I ask someone out? He would definitely have to ask May for advice when he got home.

Meanwhile, as Peter grinned to himself, Michelle couldn’t help but watch from a few desks away. Part of her wondered if he thought about her when he smiled. She knew that was a ridiculous fantasy, but she could always pretend for her own comfort and confidence.

She had genuinely no clue why she hadn’t taken one of the desks next to him. Maybe part of her panicked so she had subconsciously chosen a seat farther away to avoid embarrassing herself— even though she had no idea how she could embarrass herself in detention where they weren’t allowed to talk or move. Grant it, she was socially-awkward, reclusive Michelle Jones with a massive crush on Peter Parker, the one and only person who could catch her off guard— she’d find a way to embarrass herself without lifting a finger.

Whatever, she thought with a sigh as she pulled out her sketchbook and favorite pencil, I can try talking to him later if he’s not too busy running off the face of the Earth and I’m not too busy panicking.

So, with that thought lingering in the back of her mind, she silently started brewing up a list of things she talk about with Peter and touched her pencil to her paper, creating the beginning of her new sketch.

[starkexposition]

The Bachelor: Tony Stark Edition

Forced myself against my will, at gunpoint, to update this. Here it finally is.

Chapter 2: Electric Boogaloo

Rating: Teen/Mature, it's from college!Peter Parker's perspective Pairings: Tony/Steve, Tony/Strange, Tony/literally everyone, Happy/May, Peter/MJ, Peter/Black Cat, many token ships eventually Summary: One man. Twelve contestants. Several weeks in paradise. All through the horrified eyes of one sticky, adopted son.

“Mr. Stark…”

Most people have normal dreams.

“Can you hear me?”

Nice ones.

“It’s Peter.”

Weird ones.

“Hey.”

Bad ones.

“We won.”

Ones you forget.

“Mr. Stark…”

Or in my case, ones you wish you’d forget.

“We won, Mr. Stark.”

They say when you dream about a person, it’s because they’re dreaming about you, too.

“We won—you did it, Mr. Stark. You did it.”

That never explained why I kept dreaming about him when he was gone.

“I’m sorry, Tony.”

It was never different. Never had a different ending—never even a nightmare. Just the same weak eyes followed by the same labored breaths, every single dream. And each time, the woman who believed in him most would sit with him, hand held to his heart, and promise to him that everything would be okay. And with that, the man who never sleeps would find the peace to finally rest.

There was nothing like it. I had already been through my fair share by then—whether it was the plane crash, or Uncle Ben, or the girl that I loved… Mr. Stark was different. There was no regret, or blame; it was only the mission. The worst part about it was struggling with the selfish feeling that something had been taken away from me, all while balancing the pride that I felt in what he did for the whole universe—and most importantly, for the family that was built around him.

To us, it was a sacrifice. To Iron Man, it was a responsibility.

I guess that must be the reason it kept replaying in my dreams. It didn’t need amending because of the good that it caused, but hell—it kept coming back like a nightmare.

Even after he came back, most sleeps would end the same way: with everyone around us taking a knee for him as the air grew quiet in his passing, Captain Rogers would rise to his feet, place a hand on my shoulder, and say through watered eyes and a weakened smile:

“It was all for you.”

And with Pepper’s blessing, Steve would step forward and pick Tony up from where he laid, carefully carrying him back as Pepper, Rhodey, and myself would slowly walk alongside them.

Some nights, if I got lucky, I’d wake up before Steve’s words.

But not last night.

My brain managed to string out every last excruciating detail of the dream it possibly could in an effort to stay asleep and ignore the sound of repulsors powering down to a low hum beside me. But as they hovered nearby, the stinky air of New York was blown through the ventilation of my suit, which, unfortunately, can be stinky enough to wake you when you become aware of it. A figure took the place of the city’s rising sun, casting a shadow that darkened the scene and gifted me with my daily post-dream reminder...

“You know if you prefer this for your room and board situation, I’d be happy to take up the bill.”

Tony Stark lives.

Which is great. Quality of life really did improve when he came back—for myself, and others, too. Being adopted by him, however, kind of spiced things up a bit. From mentor to parent meant that I was proving myself to him from a parental standpoint, and that consequently resulted in me becoming far more relaxed with him. ‘Cause he’s kind of stuck with me now, you know?

But even in times like this particular morning, when I had a curfew the night before and had to get back to the house upstate by a certain time and specifically did not do so in favor of fighting crime and flirting with a kleptomaniac in a leather suit, I still don’t think I couldn’t be grateful for that fact even when I am abruptly woken from my slumber on a rusty fire escape in New York by Iron Man.

There was always something about those slitted glowing eyes in the faceplate that managed to relay the disappointment behind it so well.

“How’d you find me?” I asked as I kicked my leg up onto the platform, letting my eyes settle on the ladders above.

“Same way I always find you—” Beep-beep, beep-beep! Karen pulled up a GPS screen in my lenses that pinpointed my location, with an additional flashing blip for where the Iron Man suit was just a few feet away. “Installed another tracking device in your suit.”

I pulled off my mask and sat up quickly. “Really?”

“Yes, really,” he gestured to me, his tone dripping with annoyance. “I don’t have time to play hide-and-go-seek in the alleys and dumpsters of New York every time I need you.”

“I have a phone.”

“That you don’t answer.” Tony then tossed over my backpack that was webbed up on the dumpster below. “You know, you could be sleeping on a fire escape in Cambridge right now.”

“MIT doesn’t have MJ—” Oof. Too quick there, Pete. “Or-or Ned. Or May. Or… you?”

The face plate turned to stare at me with slitted eyes once again, Mr. Stark tilting his head. “I thought you broke up with MJ.”

Of course, he won’t ignore it.

“We broke up,” I corrected him, even though that was also technically wrong, but he definitely did not need to know that. “Besides, we’re fine. We’re friends.”

“When was the last time you spoke to her?”

“Last week,” I told him, pulling the mask over my face again.

Mr. Stark stayed silent, faceplate staring into my soul with those narrowed eyes as he waited for me.

“Okay, fine,” I sighed, swinging down from the escape, “a month ago.”

I shot a web to the wall of the building across from us, and like that, we were en route home.

“Ouch.” Naturally, Mr. Stark’s voice came in through the suit itself while he traveled closely behind me. “That bad, huh?”

“Not really,” I lied. “And I mean, we did try the whole friend thing. That’s not gone. It’s just that… well, sometimes when you break up, it makes it a lot harder to stay broken up when you try to be friends right away, you know?”

“So…” He paused for a moment, as we turned a corner to Avengers Mansion. “You’re not friends?”

I landed on the walkway and pushed my way inside. “I stressed her out too much. I’m just giving her space.”

Mr. Stark’s suit was entirely gone by the time he followed me into the kitchen of the mansion. Making a beeline to the coffee, he raised an eyebrow at me as he pulled the pot and two mugs for the both of us, fixing mine up with sugar before he poured. “That must be easy for you at least.”

“Never said it was.” I informed him as I rummaged around the refrigerator for something, anything with sustenance… Bingo. Pizza. The only consistency that truly exists within the Avengers is the ability to almost always find leftover pizza in the fridge. “But is that stuff ever really easy?”

“Well…” Tony’s voice raised suggestively as he circled around the counter and took a sip of his coffee. “It sure seems like it is now that you’ve got yourself a feline to keep you company.”

I came to a halt, cold pizza at my lips. “Seriously? I’m not talking about this with you.”

Tony cackled, sipping his coffee as he slipped from the kitchen to the elevator, finger pressed on the ‘open door’ button as he waited for me to gather my pizza and coffee to join him. Moments later, we were entering his workshop, which was remarkably as cluttered as I had seen it last. He walked through slowly, moving papers and hardware around to organize the place and put away his projects reluctantly, and each time he seemed lost in thought, staring at some weird looking, half-dismantled device, he would take a sip from his coffee before making his decision on what to do with whatever it was he was holding.

“All packed?” He asked as he pulled the mug from his lips, tossing something into the trash.

I gripped the mask in my hands and turned away from him to face one of the blueprints on the wall, pretending to read it. “Yeah. Absolutely.”

“Good,” he said. He stopped at the door to his office and looked at me with expectant eyes. “Well? Get dressed so we can go home.”

Before I could even turn away, the door to his office was shut behind him, the blue glow of his holograms flashing through the opaque glass of his office doors and windows. Whatever it was he was working on must not have required too much attention, as he was waiting impatiently for me by his car in the mansion’s garage only a few minutes later, toes tapping the ground while he leaned against the hideously orange supercar.

“Really?” I asked. “This one again?”

His eyes perked up over the rim of his glasses, eyebrows shooting up in offense. “Would you rather walk?”

I shook my head and walked over to the passengers side with Mr. Stark moving out of the way to the driver’s door. “I just think—” I got in, stuffing my bag by my feet, “—you could spice it up sometime. Maybe you could go red next. Or a matte black… now, that’d be nice. All electric, so smooth. Stealthy. It’d be great.”

Tony sat beside me, buckling his belt as he looked at me in disbelief again, “I’m sorry, can you even drive?”

I stared at him and waited for him to realize, but he just stared back. “I’m 19,” I reminded him.

“And?” He said as he started the car and drove closer to the garage door, allowing it to open automatically at his approach. “You never drive anywhere.”

His gaze looked past me then, encouraging mine to follow, and we both looked at the gray Audi that sat on the far right end of the mansion’s garage collecting dust. I looked back at Tony, ready to defend myself and my apparent preference for swinging as my primary mode of travel, but he just grinned and floored it, pulling us away from the mansion, the city, and to upstate New York.

* * *

Saturday nights at the Stark Residence meant one thing: family dinner. It wasn’t required, obviously, since most weekends I couldn’t make it home, and even if I could, I usually chose to not to, as I was 19, in college, had homework, Ned, and was constantly in an internalized battle of wanting to win my ex-girlfriend back and my unexplained desire to spend an unusual amount of time around one of my more recent torments in life:

Felicia Hardy.

And if I’m honest, I’ve probably spent more of my Saturday nights playing cat and mouse with Felicia than I have been doing homework or playing games with Ned. Only thing is, lately it has seemed more like she’s the cat and I’m the mouse—appropriate, since she is the Black Cat and all—despite that I have almost always been in pursuit of her. But my naivety always manages to lead me into falling for her traps and doing whatever it might be that she had planned for me—which, of course, almost always results in me failing to “catch” her.

What a shame.

Of course, that does exclude all of those nights where I did catch up to her. On the rooftops, quips and riddles, jabs and flirts, and the few times I got lucky enough for her to lift my mask up just enough to leave a…

How did I get started on Felicia again?

Right. Family dinners. Instead of seeing her. Just a prelude to the next few months. Did I even remember to say goodbye?

Sigh.

Anyway. Family dinners.

The only night of the week we managed to get (mostly) everyone together. Between Stark Industries and some Avengers work for Tony (remotely, of course, since the man really can’t help himself), Morgan in school and clubs, the vast Morgan Babysitting Unit (Rhodey, Maria Hill, Aunt May, and Happy mostly) trading off the rascal throughout the week, and of course, whatever Happy and May got up to in their free time (don’t remind me), Saturdays were usually the one time in the week that everyone tried their best to set aside for visiting with each other. You know, for Tony’s sake. While the ladies, including Tony’s new personal assistant, Charlotte, would split a bottle of wine as Happy and May cooked the meal together—Italiano, as they introduced it this particular time—the rest would buzz around the house, catching up on the week’s events and sharing laughs like a normal family would.

Normal.

Of course, with it being my first time home for dinner in a few months, most of the attention was on me during the meal—as Mr. Stark cleverly directed it to be, in an effort to avoid talking about the obvious circus that was set to begin the following day—with Rhodey and Maria mainly prying at me for school and hero related questions, but they were sure to cover every topic in the book, like the one I was hoping to avoid.

Girls.

Or, more specifically, MJ.

It took me going from my typical sarcasm to getting quiet and frustrated when the questions persisted for the conversation to finally fizzle out, bringing our dinner party to an end. Rhodey stood up from his seat beside me, resting a hand on my shoulder and squeezing it in understanding, as he grabbed his plate to leave. Everyone, apart from myself and May, began to disperse with him, heading to the kitchen with their empty plates.

I lifted a rogue spaghetti noodle above my face and caught it in my mouth between my tongue and teeth as Aunt May poured herself another glass of wine. She looked up at me as I practically inhaled the noodle, eyes slimming into an unamused look as she stared at me over the rim of her glass.

“This is our last dinner together for a while and you’re not even gonna use your manners?” She tilted her head, hair sliding down from her shoulder.

I made a face and shook my head, reaching for the spoon in the pan. “Not when it’s spaghetti night,” I shrugged in refusal, dumping a small second serving on my plate.

May eventually followed in suit, her eyes nervously checking up on me again and again. With a breath and returned eye contact, I braced myself for the inevitable questions—

“You’re all packed?”

“Yes.”

“Have your passport?”

“Yes.”

Her face fell and she leaned forward, brows furrowing in worry. “… Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Of course not,” I said. “It was my idea to begin with.”

She lowered her voice. “I mean for Tony.”

“Well, why not?”

Aunt May stared at me for a couple seconds, noodles sliding off her fork back onto the plate. “I don’t know, he just… you know, this is a lot of publicity for someone who, you know… was dead—”

“—in a coma—”

“—less than a year ago,” May let out a sigh, her shoulders sinking. “Do you have to get technical with me?”

I set my fork down and sat back in my seat, biting my lip in frustration. “I don’t see what the big deal is.”

“Tony’s been back for, what? Seven months?” She crossed her arms.

“Publicly, yes, and it’s not like he really kept it much of a secret before that, anyway,” I said, crossing my arms back. “He’s been alive for almost two years. A lot can happen in two years. A person can grow.”

She let out another sigh of concern. “And you don’t think all of this is too much for him?”

“He’s two years old. Of course not,” I said, dropping another noodle into my mouth. “I was ready for that kind of attention when I was his age.”

“Peter…”

“Wasn’t I?”

“Peter.”

“Listen,” I sighed, “he agreed to it at his own risk. Besides, no matter what he does, publicity will follow. He knew this ahead of time. That’s why he waited until his rehab was over—he wanted to be ready. And if he says he’s ready…”

Her eyes looked over her glasses’ frames at me. “We both know he’s not ready.”

“You know, this might actually be good for him,” I offered. “A good way for him to kinda get back in it, you know? It’s like a nice, long vacation with a bunch of pretty people gawking over him. I honestly don’t see the problem with it.”

“A bunch of pretty people trying to use him for his money, maybe,” she started picking at her food again.

“That’s the life he always used to live, May. Which is why I think it could be good for him. Might teach him to have fun again—you know, center him,” I sat up in my chair again, picking up my fork and stuffing my face with more noodles. “Plus,” I said through chewing, “it’s good promotion.”

“Promotion for what?”

“I don’t know, really,” I swallowed my food at her look of distaste. “Something to do with clean something something. Something for the planet. Or something. He was talking about it with those fancy people from the network out at dinner the other night.”

“And you didn’t listen?”

I wound up more pasta and took another bite. “No, why would I?”

Aunt May stopped her movements and stared at me for a moment before continuing to scoop up the noodles. “Are you sure there’s nothing else you’re gonna need for the trip?”

“Positive,” I smiled.

“Alright,” she let out a sigh, “if you say so.”

I smirked a bit, and took another bite full. “Are you sure you’re gonna make it that long without me?”

She took a small piece of a noodle from her plate and chucked it at me. “Zip it, you. I’ll be fine.”

I peeled the noodle from my cheek and looked at it. “Man, Aunt May… Nice aim—” And with that, I launched the noodle back at her.

By the time Morgan and I had finished clean up duty, with me washing the dishes and her wiping down the table with a cloth I gave her, the adults had migrated to the lounge with another bottle of wine, loud chatter and laughter filling up the air around them. Tony was off with Charlotte, going over a checklist with her to ensure that he had everything he needed for the trip before our departure in the morning. I stopped Morgan before she headed upstairs, holding a finger to my lip to keep her quiet as I pulled the freezer door open for her, and before we knew it, we were sneaking upstairs to our rooms with a popsicle in Morgan’s hand and snacks in my own.

The crinkling noise a bag of potato chips makes as you open it is one of the most satisfying noises in the world. Especially in the safety of your own home—unabashedly opening up a new bag without holding back to muffle any sounds. Just that sweet, sweet tearing noise as the smell of greased up, salty potatoes fills your nostrils and momentarily takes the place of that super sweet tub of Ben & Jerry’s beside you. One plus about upgrading to a king sized bed is finally having the room to keep your food beside you as you lie there—it’s a great way to be lonely without entirely feeling lonely. For the most part. Except when you remember that you’re eating an whole pint of ice cream entirely by yourself, because that’s when it starts to hit you that you’re actually, seriously doing this and you really shouldn’t be—

“Really, Pete?”

I looked up from my snacks as I pulled out an earbud, my eyes meeting the unamused eyes of my father. “What?” I asked.

He closed the door behind himself as he walked closer, crossing his arms. “We just picked those up for the flight tomorrow and you’re already eating them?”

“I was hungry,” I told him before grabbing another chip.

“You’re supposed to be getting everything ready,” he grumbled.

“I am,” I said, pointing the chip towards the half-zipped suitcase on the floor, with shirt sleeves and socks and pants sticking out the sides… Well. I tried. “Over there.”

His gaze followed my potato chip to the suitcase and he walked over to it, opening it up to see the jumbled mess of clothes that I neatly tossed into the suitcase from my closet—which, mind you, was already half packed from the last field trip we took in school a month ago. Clever, I know. I mean, half of the clothes were dirty anyway, and a lot of them I just grabbed from my floor… so really, most of them were at least a smidgen dirty. Probably, like, 90% of them were dirty. But none of that really mattered, you see, because we are staying in an actual house while we’re there, and real houses always have washers and dryers, right?

Right?

That didn’t quite matter any longer either, as my father’s eyes fell into that absolutely terrifying “disappointed” look that I was unfortunately seeing a lot of as of late. But just as he went to close it, his eyes widened at the sight of something else and he knelt down to tug on a piece of cloth.

A red piece of cloth. And blue. And black. That turned out to be more than just a piece of cloth. And that was suddenly being dangled in my face for a split second before it was folded over my father’s arm.

“No suit,” his stern voice rang through the room as he turned back towards the door.

My eyes widened as I jumped from my bed, almost knocking over my ice cream, and I followed him out. “What do you mean ‘no suit’? I can’t just go away for that long without it—”

He opened the door, looking back at me. “And is that seriously how you’re taking care of this thing?” He pushed through, lifting the suit to his nose. “God, Pete, it smells…”

“Dad,” I pleaded, “I can’t leave without it.”

“Seriously. When’s the last time you sent Hap to get this thing dry-cleaned?” He turned back to look in my room, pointing at the suitcase as the door swung shut. “By the way, pal, one half-assed packing job isn’t gonna cut it. We’ll be gone the whole summer. Pack accordingly.”

I stopped in the hall as he continued up it with the suit still slung around his arm. “Dad, please,” I begged.

He began walking backwards, a smirk plastered to his lips. “No can do, kiddo,” he said. “You’re not supposed to work while you’re on vacation.”

And with that, he was gone, spending the rest of his evening with the usual entourage before they headed out to Happy’s place for the night.

I didn’t notice myself falling asleep. I wasn’t planning on it either—I don’t think I ever even rested my head for a second. But there I was; it was one o’clock, N64 fan roaring, half-eaten pint of ice cream melting accompanied by an opened bag of potato chips, and I had fallen asleep, controller still in hand. I peeled myself out of bed slowly, grabbing the snacks and heading downstairs to put them away in their respective places. As I was sealing away the tub of ice cream in the freezer, I noticed the door to the workshop downstairs slightly propped open, a faint glow coming from it and the distant voice of FRIDAY.

Curiosity killed the cat, right? Wish me luck.

Ever-so-thankful for my powers, I creaked the door open quietly and jumped up to the ceiling, slowly crawling down the spiral staircase until I finally reached the workshop. Everything was dark and put away apart from the desk, where Tony sat in his rolling chair, staring up at the blue holograms projected around him.

As though his breath had been hitched in his lungs for a long while, Tony let out a sharp sigh as he let go of his frozen stature, leaning forward in his seat. “Alright FRIDAY,” he pulled a pen from his desk and started scribbling on a piece of paper, “run the scans.”

“Certainly, boss,” FRIDAY said, and the holograms began pulling up hundreds, thousands—hell, even millions of files of footage. “Scanning all known devices now.”

Tony sat back in his seat again, jaw clenched in fear as hopeful eyes watched the projections around him. A sigh escaped his lips as he watched FRIDAY sort through the files, hurt filling the contortions of his face and… That’s when I noticed him.

How had I missed him?

“Come on,” Tony prayed, his eyes daring to well up into tears. “Come on, Cap.”

As files were sorted, discarded or scanned again and again, the screen running through images and clips so fast it hardly even flashed with the changes, the files were compared to an image presented to the right of them, none of them matching up with with the familiar head of blond hair that was almost damn near waiting for a match.

Years later, and Tony Stark was still searching for Steve Rogers.

I guess it sort of came as a surprise to me. He didn’t talk about Cap very often. If he did, it was usually short lived—it was never really something he chose to dwell on. And anytime someone tried to bring him up, he never spoke of their time together like it had the weight that I knew it did—like they were just some old buddies back in the day, and that was it. With everything going on in his life, I guess I just assumed he was a bit forced to move on from it.

Then again, when Tony came back—which, mind you, will forever be the most shocking moment of my entire life—one of the first things he asked about was Steve. Just to know if where he was… if he was okay. I was the one who told him he was gone, that he had brought the stones home, and was never to return.

He gave me a small nod when I told him, eyes drifting away from me, as he forced out a quiet, “okay, then.”

And that was it. That was all he ever asked about him. After he quickly regained his composure, Pepper ushered him away to get him some nourishment until they both finally decided it was time to wake Morgan up to see him again after seven long months apart.

I always wondered if Captain Rogers would have stayed if he knew Tony was coming back.

I guess that was part of the tragedy, wasn’t it? How could anyone have known that by some miracle he would come back? I hadn’t, Pepper hadn’t, nor did Rhodey, or Morgan, or Happy. There was no way Captain Rogers would have predicted that, either. He, like the rest of us, altered his life accordingly.

But if he got the chance to see what I was seeing, would he come back?

“I’m sorry, boss,” FRIDAY said solemnly. “The scans were unsuccessful.”

I suppose we’d never know.

Tony sat still, defeat stealing whatever energy he had left in him, as he tried desperately to understand the holograms before him. He stared for what felt like ages, breathing through the frown on his lips, swallowing back his guts here and there whenever he needed it. Finally, his eyelashes fluttered as he looked away from what was before him, energy joining him once again to neaten his paperwork. “Well, then,” he forced out, “let’s wrap it up for a while, shall we?”

He stood from his desk, picking up a mug of cold coffee and bringing it to his lips as he turned and started walking away, papers still in hand. He walked to a cabinet, dropping the papers into a file as he slowly lowered the mug, swallowing back his thoughts with his coffee.

“Would you like me to keep an open scan going while you’re gone?” FRIDAY inquired.

Tony’s eyes broke from wherever they had drifted, running in my direction on their way to look at the hologram—

Uh oh.

I managed to scurry back right as his head stopped its movement, hiding out of sight before his eyes flickered back over in my direction.

“Yeah,” he agreed. Footsteps. “Let me know if you find anything on your radar.”

Goose bumps. Skin tingling. Danger. Danger. Danger. I don’t think I’ve ever crawled on a ceiling faster than I did, barely making it to the door in time to leave it cracked where it was before he noticed it. It was faster to go out through the porch and up through my window than it was to run through that maze of a house, and I still only made it just in time to get under the covers before my father cracked open my door to check if I was sleeping. The pixelated N64 screen and controller by my hand was seemingly convincing enough, as he turned out the rest of my lights and left me to sleep.

* * *

To be honest, I wasn’t the most excited person when I realized that being adopted by Tony Stark also meant moving off to some cabin in the deep woods of upstate New York. The whole farm life thing never exactly appealed to me the way it did others, I guess. I was perfectly fine with living just a block away from my favorite hoagie joint, a couple blocks down from my best friend, the same part of town as the girl I sorely wanted back, and you know, the same city as the college that I attended daily. The drives back and forth from campus whenever I actually did make my way home only started to get better when I was actually doing them on my own, but they were still painfully long when Ned wasn’t able to join me for a weekend. And when your only entertainment for an entire weekend (or even week) is a six-year-old who is particularly obsessed with outsmarting you, Happy Hogan, and a video game that you somehow manage to fall asleep to while playing pretty much every night as of late, life can get pretty lonely up in the boonies.

Still, there was something to be said about waking up surrounded by nature instead of the city.

You’d be surprised as to just how calming it is for the morning sun’s glow to slowly enter your room, birds chirping in the trees outside your windows, wind chimes twinkling as a soothing voice peacefully rings throughout the four walls of your room…

“Everybody was kung fu fighting—” I don’t think I could have slapped my alarm any faster.

I attempted at covering my head with a pillow to block out the light, but the disturbance of voices downstairs disrupted my Sunday morning a bit early again—although this time, the voices seemed to amount to more of a crowd.

Great.

“Peter, your father will be arriving at your door in fifteen seconds,” Karen warned, lights brightening in my room as I hopped from my bed, placing in my earbuds. Like clockwork, the door creaked open as I paced my room in an effort to make myself seem busy.

“Pete.”

I pulled an earbud from my ear and glanced up at my father before heading to my closet. “You know, you should try knocking sometime.”

Mr. Stark trailed into my room behind me nonchalantly, looking around at the mess spread across the room as he picked up notebooks from my bed and placed them on my desk. “You say that like your alarm didn’t go off two minutes ago.”

“So?” I picked up the notebooks and moved them to my pile of schoolwork. “You never know—I could have been changing.”

He stopped in his tracks, his gaze tracing up to mine with a single eyebrow cocked up in disbelief. “Really?”

“What?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in anything but pajamas before two on a weekend.” He forced back a smile. “Besides, my point stands, you weren’t doing anything embarrassing. Which, by the way—”

“—that’s not my point—”

“—what exactly was it that you were doing?” He turned on his heel, looking around my room. “And what is that smell? Garbage? Gym clothes? Dirty sheets?”

“Dad.”

“When’s the last time you changed your sheets?”

“Dad.”

“Can we get some windows open in here?”

“Of course,” Karen complied, the panel windows rotating open on command, the sound of the leaves following the breeze that filled the room.

“Much better,” he exhaled.

I collapsed on my bed again, then, placing the earbud back in my ear. “Do you always have to act like something died in here when you enter my room completely uninvited?”

“I’m saving your skin, you know. May is downstairs and if she smelled whatever’s going on in here, you’d have a much bigger problem on your hands.”

I jolted up in horror. “May? What is May still doing here—”

“I invited her,” he stated simply. “For Happy’s sake. Surprise.”

I scowled. “Don’t encourage them.”

“Which reminds me, where are your bags?”

“Bags?” My eyes then drifted to the very same suitcase from the night prior, just as untouched, half-full, and dirty as it was the last time my father told me to work on packing it.

My father followed my sight and immediately let out a sigh, his back to me, and I just knew the face that he was about to hit me with before he even managed to turn around. And then he did.

Here we go.

The look of unsurprised disbelief with a flavor of sheer, utter annoyance as his eyes rolled up to the ceiling.

Personally, this was my favorite look of disappointment from him. His “shocked” face that I always seem to get whenever I prove time and time again that he really should stop having any sort of faith in me being able to do anything that is not Avenger, homework, or video game. I mean, it’s only fair. To the both of us, really.

He finished his eye roll, those disappointed eyes falling to mine before he finally headed to the door. “Get dressed and be down in five. Say hi to the crew quickly and then please finish packing. We can’t be late for this.”

“We’re leaving today?”

“Seriously?” He was out the door in seconds, calling back, “How on earth are you more like me than I am like me these days?”

I jumped from my bed and grabbed a t-shirt that was folded on the top of my dresser, pulling it over my head as followed Mr. Stark down the hall, door clicking shut behind me. “How long until we leave?” I asked, catching up to him on the stairs.

“Around an hour.” He muttered, head tilting towards mine. “You definitely did not get dressed that quickly.”

“I’m not going in there alone,” I told him.

He halted about half-way down, looking me up and down in my sweatpants and Midtown gym shirt. His lips flattened into a line, the look of annoyance returning to his face. He then unbuttoned his suit jacket, turned, and shrugged. “Fine.” And as we finished our trek down the stairs, he expanded his arms grandly, cleared his throat, and projected an embarrassingly loud, “Everyone—Peter has finally decided to join us!”

Every pair of eyes in the room fell to mine.

… I brought this upon myself.

It was barely seconds before the only person from ABC that I actually recognized managed to catch my attention—and yes, there was, once again, a gray hair sitting intrusively on the blazer.

“Peter!” She exclaimed, peeling her way through the group to shake my hand. “Are you excited for the next few months?”

“Sure,” I offered, my eyes drifting from hers in search of Aunt May. I looked back at her, squinting a bit as I studied her face. “I’m sorry, I’m forgetting your name.”

“Nellie Freeman,” she reminded me. “I’m one of the producers for The Bachelor.”

“Uh huh,” I nodded my head. The whole bullshitting portion of this thing was already wearing on me, and I was only about… a sentence and a half into it. And it was obvious, as a rather awkward look of concern started to form on her face. “Look, I’m going to be honest with you, Ms. Freeman,” I sighed, slouching a bit. “I just rolled out of bed. I really just came down here for food before I get ready to leave.”

Nellie nodded then, stepping aside. “You should probably focus on that, Peter. And please, call me Nellie.”

“Okay.”

“We’ll find the chance to talk later, alright?” She said, clutching her mimosa close to her hair-intruding blazer.

I nodded, turning to make my way to the kitchen. “Okay, Ms. Freeman.”

And with that, I was free, and doing one of my favorite past times: rummaging the refrigerator for food. And as I rolled out each and every tray, drawer, compartment, searching high and low for just a little bit of cream cheese, I felt a very gentle tug at the hem of my shirt. I paused, raising my eyebrows to look down at the very soft, yet expectant face of a six-year-old, a small smile playing at her lips.

“Hi,” she said.

“Good Morgan,” I greeted her, stifling a laugh as she let out her usual giggle. “Staying out of trouble so far?”

“I need your help,” she said. She then waved for me to get close, so I did, crouching down and offering my ear to her. She cupped her hands, leaning close to whisper. “Can I have some of your root beer?” She asked, pulling back with an innocent look on her face.

“Maguna,” I sighed, turning towards her totally. “You do realize it’s still morning, right?”

“Yes,” she nodded.

“And that our father is right on the other side of that wall?”

She nodded again. “Yes.”

I raised my eyebrows again, pointing in the direction of our living room. “And that if he catches me giving you root beer at seven in the morning without asking his permission, he’ll get very mad at me?”

“Yes,” she said, this time with a single, big nod.

“I don’t know, kiddo,” I told her, standing up and pulling a bottle of root beer from the fridge, “not sure if it’s worth the punishment.”

She tapped my arm this time, tugging at my shirt afterwards. “Please?”

“Hmm,” I looked between my sister and the bottle of root beer in my hands. “Are you ready to leave yet?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” I set the bottle on the counter, along with the bagels and cream cheese, closing the fridge and crouching back down to meet her height. “Go on up to my room, then. I’ll bring some up to you when I finish getting my breakfast and you can play Mario Kart while I pack.”

And for the last hour that we spent in our home for the time being, my sister and I kept sanctuary up in my room, with Morgan sprawled out on my bed, trying to make sense of an N64 controller as I coached her on how to take out Bowser as revenge for his ruthless attack on her Luigi. My bags were carelessly tossed together in a matter of minutes, suit staying tucked away underneath heaps of clothes, and my Playstation carefully wrapped (and hidden) in clothes in my second suitcase, zipped away until further notice. I had bravely ventured downstairs to grab the next round of root beers, and the two of us were able to stay far away from any parental units paroling the household for the remainder of the hour—shocking, since Morgan’s got quite the big mouth when it comes to video games.

Packing the vans for our departure to the airport wasn’t chaotic until the rest of the black-blazer-with-a-stray-strand-of-gray-hair-obtrusively-standing-out-and-distracting-me-once-again people from ABC arrived. It went from packing up the car for a nice family vacation to me pretty much being sent up to my room to pack yet another whole bag with all of the items on their list of things that I had to bring for my “wardrobe” that I didn’t know were “required” for my nice, lovely, family vacation. And then came the labeling of each and every bag—which, of course, followed their security check of each and every bag.

That’s right. They brought security for us.

I know.

Anyway, I’m pretty sure the ridiculousness of checking Iron Man for safety threats was the tipping point of my sanity, so by about eight o’clock, I was lying in the middle of the driveway and tossing a rock up into the cloudy sky. At some point, Mr. Stark’s hand suddenly reached out and caught it and he looked down at me with a tired smile.

“You ready?”

I raised my eyebrows and caught the rock as my father dropped it. “Did my background check already make it in?”

“Funny,” he rolled his eyes as he reached down to grab my hand, pulling me up. “You should be praying that they don’t find it.”

“What do you mean?” I laughed, picking my backpack up from the curb as I followed him up the driveway to the big, black, spy-like SUVs. “Peter Parker is as threatening as Happy when he falls asleep on the couch after Thanksgiving dinner.”

His hand rested on my back as he guided me to an open door in one of the SUVs. “Have you read your high school disciplinary record?”

“No. That’s your job,” I grinned at him as I climbed in and slid to the end, grabbing the buckle.

“Yeah,” Mr. Stark’s eyes widened at the thought as he got in his seat beside me. “And your poor Aunt May’s.”

“Well, she knows about the whole… you know… Spidey thing, now, so it’s fine,” I said, shrugging. “I’m sure it explains a lot.”

Happy’s eyes met mine in the rearview mirror. “Yeah,” he grumbled. “Wait until you can’t use that excuse this summer.”

My jaw fell only slightly as I let out a chuckle. “No, no—not an excuse. I won’t need it, anyway. No suit, no hero antics, no need for doing anything absolutely stupid.”

Happy’s eyes looked up again in the mirror as he stopped at the end of our driveway. “The suit isn’t what causes you to be stupid.”

And with another small, Pikachu gasp escaping my lips and laughter bellowing from Aunt May and the man beside me, the window rolled up slowly, separating him and May from myself, Morgan, and our dad for the rest of the ride to the city.

The car ride inbound was far more easy-going than the last long one we had heading outbound, on our way home from my grand, very belated ‘adoption party’, where this whole Bachelor thingy began. I was silent, overwhelmed, sort of regretting the amount of root beer that I had consumed.

I think, like, five glasses, maybe? Full glasses, too. Like the big ones, not the little scotch glasses. All five, sitting in my stomach over every pothole and rock we ran over.

“Come to think of it, Pete, I didn’t really see you much tonight. Was it the nerves? Too many people?”

I nodded assuringly. “Too many people. Definitely.”

He eyed me in suspicion and then let out a sigh. “Listen, Pete. Don’t let this whole… moving into a multi-billionaire’s million dollar lakeside New York mansion thing scare you into thinking you have to respect me any better.”

“I think,” I narrowed my eyes as I stared at him in confusion, “I think just saying that… does?”

“What I’m trying to say is now that I’m officially your father and you’re officially my son, that weird, politeness type of respect isn’t necessary anymore,” he went on, looking forward at the street as Happy drove their car back to their home. “If anything, you should respect me less.”

“I feel like this is a test,” I told him.

“It is and it isn’t,” he grinned to himself. “Just be a normal kid, alright? No more Mr. Starks, no more asking permission for every single little thing. Just ask permission sometimes, when it’s necessary. And don’t call me ‘dad’ while wearing your suit. That’s when you call me ‘Mr. Stark’. Got it?”

And that was it. I’ll be honest, the whole transition from “Mr. Stark” to “Dad” hasn’t exactly been easy, but I think I’ve got it down.

For the most part.

Happy took a sharp turn then, breaking my thoughts as we went off of our course to the airport. “Sorry,” he shouted from the front seat.

“Mr. Stark…?” I muttered, staring out the windows in confusion. I looked at him and he raised an eyebrow expectantly. I realized my mistake but refused to correct it, staring back at him with my own eyebrows raised expectantly as the SUV pulled to a stop in front of the mansion, film crews piling out of one of the vans ahead. “What’s going on?”

“Showtime—” was all he said, before jumping out of the vehicle and heading over to the makeup artists, who, of course, swarmed him.

It was going to be a long summer. And it was only April.

The beauty of college was that the summer typically began in May, anyway, and with some teeth-pulling trips home away from the hyperactive, crime-filled city, I was able to set aside blocks of time to get my work done early in an effort to finish my semester earlier than most. I must say—midterms and finals all within two weeks of each other were not exactly the highlight of my college career so far, but finishing the semester by the start of April in exchange for an extended summer was pretty worth it.

Apart from the makeup brushes that were suddenly advancing on my face.

“Wait—” I held up my hands in defense, waving the brushes away. “No, no—not me, not my thing. I’m fine with—you know,” I gestured toward my face, “this.”

“It’s for lighting,” one of the artists argued.

“And that,” I said, slinging my backpack over my shoulder, “is what editing is for. Tell Ms. Freeman I said that.”

Like clockwork, Nellie Freeman ran towards me, calling my name. “Peter!” She said, excitedly, “Go on over to your father. Share a laugh with him.”

Share a laugh?

I was guided over to where he was and before I knew it, cameras were pointed at us in all directions as Mr. Stark put an arm around me and looked at me to chat, pointing to me. “Are you ready?” He asked, charming smile flashing on his face.

“No,” I said, forcing a smile, trying hard not to look at the camera. “How long do I have to do this?”

“Entire summer,” his smile grew proud.

My face fell.

“Remember, this was all your idea,” he let out a laugh then, and it was apparently enough to satisfy the cameras.

Worst moment of my life.

So far.

As a small part of the crew followed me around the front of the mansion—which, I had inferred was for their introduction to the show, as they were filming numerous angles of the mansion itself, as well as our family by the gates out front, and even a small moment of Tony driving out of the garage in yet another hideously orange supercar—the sound of a small explosion a couple blocks over rumbled through the streets. Myself and the camera people with me, who happened to be closest to the noise, all turned in fear as cop cars zipped up the street towards whatever it was.

My heart pounded a bit as the adrenaline came through my body with my senses and I looked at the crew urgently, “You should probably go distract Iron Man before you lose camera time with him.”

They took my advice.

Barely a minute later, I was in my suit, swinging through the streets of New York City.

Standard bank robbery: getaway car at the corner of the block waiting in drive, hold up in the lobby of the bank, gunmen standing guard outside, and my favorite—two pyromaniacs blowing a hole in the alleyway wall to gain outside access to the vault.

Minutes later, the vault guys were webbed to the brick walls of the alley, the gunmen were knocked out and webbed up, the two guys holding up inside were webbed together in a nice, snug hug, and the getaway car was stopped mid movement by me mere seconds after I had webbed up its passengers to street lights in their escape.

A standard day in New York City for Spider-Man.

Man, I was going to miss it. Genuinely. It was a hobby as much as it was a passion and a responsibility. It had its perks, of course, but swinging through the city, stopping to fight whatever crime was impending, and then getting back into the air moments later just to return to whatever I was doing, or like in many cases, to the backpack I webbed up to a dumpster in an alleyway a block away from the mansion. I undressed from my suit as quickly as possible and got back in the clothes I was wearing before, stuffing the suit into my backpack—

Spider sense. Spider sense. Behind you, Peter—Peter. Peter. Peter.

I turned quickly to see an old bearded man standing at the end of the alleyway by the sidewalk, staring at me as I stuffed the spider suit into my backpack.

I felt my cheeks burning red as the man just watched. “It’s not what it looks like, I promise,” I smiled nervously. “I just found it in the dumpster. It’s probably—it’s probably not even real.”

The old man let out a chuckle, approaching me slowly. “It’s okay, Peter,” he said with a smile. “You don’t need to worry.”

I froze in that moment, movements halted as I registered the voice and the way it said my name—yes. My name.

My name?

“How did you…” I trailed off as the main presented a large pouch to me, reluctantly taking it from him. I stared at the pouch and then up to those old, tired, glistening eyes. “Are you one of the wizards?”

“No,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “You might wanna grab a lab kit for that before you leave, by the way.”

And that was how my Breaking Bad career took off.

Kidding. Sort of. Hopefully. All that was in the bag from what I could tell was some old rusty gear and tech and a few pieces of paper to accompany the items. I looked up from the bag and back at the old man, who just watched with a pair of what seemed to be proud eyes.

I stared at him for a moment, trying to make sense of the familiarity in his eyes. “Who are you?”

The man’s face fell slightly for a moment and he placed a hand on my shoulder, dipping his head down a bit as he blinked slowly, lips curling into a smile once again. “You’ll see.”

The sound of repulsors taking off echoed through the streets, followed by the sound of flight, and both myself and the old man turned in its direction, looking up to the sky as Iron Man appeared over the rooftop.

He hovered there for a moment, silence dripping between us for a split second, before he finally let out a confused, “Pete?”

I widened my eyes. “I can explain,” I started, stepping towards him, “You see, I was helping this nice gentleman over here and—”

He flew passed me to where the man was, but as I turned around with him, the old man was gone.

Tony landed in his place, stepping towards the sidewalk slowly and looking around. “It doesn’t make sense…”

Okay, Peter. Time to be honest. I took a deep breath, “Well, to be honest, there was an explosion up the block, and it turned out to be a huge bank robbery, so I kind of had to step in and—”

“I said no suit.” He stated bluntly, but he was still distracted by our surroundings.

“I know. It’s just—it’s hard,” I confessed. “I’m sorry.”

Tony was silent in response; he was evidently listening to Friday as opposed to me, focusing in on whatever it was they were examining in the alleyway. Moments passed in silence, before he finally let out a sigh, “Alright, let’s go. We have a flight to catch.”

He lifted me from the ground, returning us to our group at the mansion a couple blocks over, cameras and all. The obligatory clips of the Iron Man suit removing itself from Tony that ABC insisted on filming bought me enough time to sneak into the mansion and snag one of the lab kits we had set aside for missions. I was able to slip it into the SUV by the time Tony finished with his numerous close-ups with the film crew.

The remainder of our morning once we actually arrived at the airport was just that. Cameras, interviews, weird filmed moments where we all chatted about absolutely nothing in an effort to seem like we were actually engaging in real conversations—then pause, break, and we were back to loading Mr. Stark’s private jets.

Yes. Jets. As in plural.

Because we weren’t going to fly with the ABC people, right? They had to be there waiting for us upon our arrival anyway.

Eyeroll.

It was only about eleven in the morning by the time we took off, but it felt like the day had been going on for hours already. The jet we were on, which was Mr. Stark’s newest of his hybrid engine class, had quarters for him, myself, and Morgan in the back, which were separated by the full bathrooms in between. It wasn’t long before I had passed out on my bed, the shades closing on the windows to leave me in a nice, quiet slumber…

“Pete, wake up,” My father’s voice called from the door to the cabin. I stirred a bit, covering my head with my pillow. “Shower quickly and get out here, we’re landing soon.”

Soon? Already? How long had I been asleep?

I sprung out of bed, heading to the bathrooms to shower in the circular full shower, washing up as fast as I could, before I dressed in some warm weather clothes and headed out to the cabin, natural sunlight blinding me a bit before I could see outside the windows at the…

Islands? Surrounded by turquoise… lagoons?

How long had I been asleep?

My father walked over to me, looking out the window alongside me with a grin on his face. “Welcome to Bora Bora, Peter.”

[the-young-and-forgotten]

Pianissimo: 30.12 - Worn out Polaroids

submission for @darlingdelacour’s “12 Days of Angst”

“As much as he lectures James and Sirius to be careful, he can’t take care of himself!” The caption at the bottom of the picture read.

The red light from his alarm clock told him that it was 3:23 am but Remus couldn’t sleep. It had been a week since you had left this cruel world, but all he could think about was you. He should’ve pressured you more not to go on that search mission for the remaining Death Eaters, then maybe you would be here, maybe none of this had happened. If only fate wasn’t cruel and had let Remus have one good thing in his life.

Earlier that night while cleaning out his closet, he had found a box of polaroids from his time in Hogwarts. Making a decision that he would most definitely regret in the next few hours, he took it into his lounge and started looking through it. Hence why he was crying while sitting cross-legged on the floor shuffling through random photos in the falsely happy glow of his Christmas tree.

He stuck his hand in once more and looked at the polaroid with the caption. This particular photo didn’t look too old, but it was slightly crumpled from spending years locked away.

He could tell straight away that was taken in 5th year when Remus had broken his arm trying to execute an elaborate prank. Y/n had stolen his camera and snapped this when he was in the middle of lecturing James and Sirius for making him do the most difficult part. She had also managed to get one of him in the middle of the prank in the process of breaking his arm. But that's beside the point.

He pulled out random photos, taking quick glances before casting them aside. He loved all them, but he was looking for those that held strong memories.

Looking through, he realised most of the photos in this box had been taken by him so he wasn’t in a lot of them. Not that he minded, he preferred to see his once happy friends rather than himself.

His friends. Jeez, he missed them. Four were dead, killed by their best friend who was now imprisoned. Remus felt like an empty shell, trying to fill himself up with old memories that don’t even feel like his own anymore. He shook his head. Continuing that train of thought only led to disaster. But it was undeniably inevitable. He knew he would think about it again, but he put it off for now.

All of the photos were snapped in the heat of the moment causing quite a few of them to be blurred, shaken up from laughter. Moments with his friends were so crazy to look back on. For young boys drunk on superiority and power. Drunk on the belief that they could change the world, that it will all work out in the end. But it wouldn’t, it couldn’t. As they found out all too soon.

This was making him sadder and sadder, piercing his heart. But he couldn’t stop now, not when he was committed to remembering his family somehow. So he reached into the box and pulled out even more random photos.

There was a picture of them in the snow, all you could see of Peter was legs as James stood over him acting like he had just found a new country. Another of them sneaking out to Hogsmeade, Remus and Y/n wrapped up together in a thick cloak as they blushed furiously. One of the very many photos of James trying and failing to woo Lily. The next was of James getting used as a Christmas tree (a very grumpy one) and that random one of Sirius running around the common room with his hair on fire, screaming the lyrics of “God Rest Ye Merry Hippogriffs.” That was a weird day.

The photos he saw gave Remus so much life, having him in tears of laughter and longing as he relived each memory he picked up from that box.

Before he knew it, only two Polaroids were left in the box, facedown. He gingerly picked up one and flipped it over, shaking his head at the photo. He remembered this one a bit too well. It was the day James and Sirius decided to steal his camera and follow Remus and Y/n around the castle while stifling giggles from under the invisibility cloak.

Coincidentally, it was also the day Remus finally gathered the courage to kiss Y/n. It was just a quick kiss, Remus literally leaned over while you were rattling on about something and press his lips to yours, but it was long enough for the boys to take this opportunity to snap a shot. All the two of you could hear was the distinctive “CLICK” of the camera and the screams coming from the boys as they ripped off the cloak and whipped it around their heads, acting like total morons.

He clutched this one to his chest as he picked up the last photo. When he turned it around, he gasped. This photo must have been taken by one of Lily’s friends back in seventh year.

It was one the few moving photos that Remus had in his possession.

All of them were there, side by side without a care in the world. Just continuous joy.

Sirius was on the far left, playfully putting Peter in a headlock while roaring with laughter. Peter was shouting and trying to get Sirius’ arm off him but you could detect the flicker of loving exasperation each time he failed to move it. On the right, Remus had one arm slung over Y/n’s shoulders, gazing over James and Lily’s heads wearing a small smile with a look of “how the hell am I friends with idiots like these?” on his face. Y/n was doubled over holding her stomach, her face alight with contagious happiness, absolutely dying from laughter. In the middle were James and Lily. James being the romantic cheese he was, was kissing Lily on the temple and whispering sweet nothings into her ear as she smiled wearily rolling her eyes at the state of her friends.

The words written on the bottom of the photo read “The Marauders will be together always. Until the very end.”

Back in his lounge, Remus traced the photo, smiling at it softly. Dear god he missed you. He missed all of his friends. He missed Hogwarts. He missed how simple life seemed back then. I mean sure, it wasn’t perfect but it was his. He was in control of everything that happened around him. He was in the centre of it all. Ruling from his throne, as his best friends stood next to him seated on their own glittering seats. The picture's caption was engraved on their crowns, wild grins on everyone’s faces. Everything going exactly how they wanted it to.

But now those thrones were rubble. Life had decided to flip around and choke him. “Look here” it seemed to say, taunting him. “You thought you were in control?” And finally, after 7 years of fighting for a future he wasn’t meant to have, he succumbed to the harsh reality of fate. He gave up. Breaking one of the Marauders' most sacred rules “Never give up”. But then again, they all did. “Stick together no matter what.” Remus chuckled to himself. Look at them now, spread out between worlds, with no chance of reaching each other.

And finally “Marauders don’t die” He still remembered that day. James had told them this after pulling off one of their best and most dangerous pranks yet. James was ecstatic with joy even though he was wrapped up in bandages and confined to a hospital bed. His eyes were glittering as he bounced up and down on his bed, giving everyone a heart attack. “Listen to me boys” He had said, voice full of overwhelming confidence and life. He pulled the other marauders close to him, looking at each fully in turn. “Marauders don’t die. Not when fate tells us to at least. We die when we want.”

‘How hypocritical’ Remus thought. ‘To think, you had made up that rule. But where were you now James? Dead. Gone. Forever.’

‘Whatever’ He thought, pressing this photo to his chest as well. Maybe they didn’t break all of their sacred rules. He knew, even if more than half of the Marauders were dead, no matter how far apart they were, they would be with him always. As they promised each other years ago.

[tony-is-my-daddy]

Hi guys! So this is my 1000th post on this blog. I cannot express how thankful I am to all of you who have followed me and still read and see and like all of my stupid posts. I see all of your likes and reblogs and tags and comments, it fills my heart with such great happiness, you all are awesome! I'm so glad I get to be in this amazing fandom, it kinda feels like a second family at this point.

Anyway, tumblr freaked out when I wanted to post the whole thing in one, so I will separate it into two parts. Enjoy part one.

Dream a little dream of me

Peter loved his job more than anything. Being a kindergarten teacher was great, he loved being around kids and he knew the feeling was mutual, most of his kids said he was their favorite teacher. He had so many of their drawings and crafts, he kept them in a special folder in his desk at home. It warmed his heart and made a huge smile stretch over his face when he saw another drawing made for him. He loved all of his students equally. Okay, that's what he told everyone, because he wasn't supposed to say the truth. He couldn't tell people he had a favorite, that was rude and Peter wasn't gonna disappoint his kids. But truth be told, the little girl with the chestnut hair and the sparkly brown eyes and pretty smile was his favorite one of them all.

Morgan Stark, the daughter of a single mother, famous CEO's of Stark Industries and ex-lovers, Pepper Potts and Tony Stark. Morgan had only been Peter's student for a month and she already managed to get into Peter's heart with her charm and her smile. During those first four weeks of the school year, he hadn't had a chance to meet the girl's father. Obviously, he knew who it was. Everyone did. But Peter was so excited to see the man because honestly, Tony Stark had been his biggest celebrity crush for as long as he could remember. The thirty-five years old genius was not just smart and rich, he was also very handsome.

So it was understandable if he forgot how to breathe for a second when he was just reading something while the kids played around, waiting for their parents, and Morgan suddenly yelled out in that angeling voice of hers, "Daddy!"

Peter's head snapped up. He looked at the man at the door as he leaned down and picked up the small girl, kissing her forehead before he sat her on his hip. Peter's jaw dropped and he just stared. Tony was... wow. He was so hot, even more so up close than he did in all those pictures and interviews Peter had seen him in.

"Daddy, look, there's Mr. Parker. He's the nicest teacher ever!" Peter had no idea how to react. He moved to stand up, but then sat back down again, thinking it would be too much. But when the older man approaced him, he stood up anyway.

"So you're the teacher this little one has been telling me about lately. Hello, I'm Tony Stark," the man said with a smile - wow, so that's where Morgan got her smile from - and reached out a hand for Peter. It took a moment for him to process what was going on, but then he shook Tony's hand with an awkward laugh.

"I know, sir. I'm Peter. Parker."

Tony smiled and let the handshake last for a second or two longer than a normal handshake would, but Peter didn't mind.

"Go collect your stuff, babygirl," Tony said and set Morgan down to run back to her classmates and collect her backpack. Then, his attention turned back to Peter, he was now smirking. "Well, Mr. Parker, my daughter seems to love you very much."

"Oh yes, I love her too, you know. She's such a sweet little girl. She became my favorite student recently." He added that last thing quietly so that the rest of the class didn't hear it.

"Oh really?"

"Yes, of course! She's very nice and smart, she probably got that from her dad."

Peter only realized what slipped from his mouth when he saw Tony's lips stretch into a grin. "You think I'm smart, Mr. Parker?"

"Obviously, you're a literal genius, sir. The smartest person of our generation."

"That's very flattering, Mr. Parker. Thank you."

"Please, call me Peter, sir."

"Then you should call me Tony."

Was this flirting? No, there was no way. Right? Tony Stark could've got anyone, lingerie models would hang off his shoulders if he just asked them to do so, so many people wanted to get him and out of them all, why oh why would he choose Peter Parker?

"O-okay. Tony," Peter said, his voice a bit shaky, unsure. Just then, Morgan appeared next to her father, clutching the straps of her Iron Man backpack with her little hands.

"Can we go now," she asked.

"Of course munchkin. Give daddy that backpack, there you go. Say goodbye to Mr. Parker."

"Bye Mr. Parker," she waved as they walked towards the door hand in hand.

"Bye Morgan," he waved as well with a smile. That little girl was so adorable.

The next day, Peter was not expecting Tony again to come collect Morgan, but it looked like neither did Morgan.

They were outside on the playground when Tony walked through the gates and Morgan frowned at her from the sandbox. "Daddy? Why are you here? Where's mommy?"

"Mommy's busy, Morguna. But I'm here, aren't you happy?"

"I am!"

Tony laughed, oh, what a sound. "Alright then, little bug, go get your backpack."

"Yes daddy!"

She was up soon, running through the playground to go back in the building, both Tony and Peter yelling after her to slow down. They looked at each other and laughed.

"We meet again," Tony said, taking a few steps closer towards Peter.

"Looks like it," he said, still smiling.

"How was she today?"

"Oh amazing, just like always. There was a little misunderstanding when Lori over there tried to take one of her toys, but we worked that out eventually."

"Great to hear that," Tony said. He took another step forward. They were now a bit closer than Peter should've been with one of his students' father. "I've wanted to ask, by the way, how old are you, Peter?"

It caught him off-guard a little, usually his kids' parents didn't ask how old he was. They asked about how their children behaved, obviously, but never about Peter. Why would he care about Peter?

"Oh I'm twenty-five, sir. Tony, sorry. Um... why are you asking?"

"I was just curious." Another step forward. Peter's heart was now starting to beat a little faster. "Are you, by any chance, interested in men? Because... I'd like to grab a coffee with you sometime, of course, only if you'd like that."

Well, if the age question caught him off-guard then imagine Peter after that. His eyes widened and he crossed his arms so he could pinch the skin on his upper arm unnoticeably, just to see if he was really not dreaming. But no, Tony Stark still stood in front of him, expecting an answer from him.

Peter swallowed, suddenly noticing how dry his mouth was, before he cleared his throat to speak up. "Like- like on a date?"

"Yes, pretty much. I don't really know if there's a rule against that but... I'd like to take you out sometime. If you want to, that is."

"Well, yeah, yes, sure," he said after a little hesitation. What the hell was he hestitating for? This was Tony fucking Stark himself! "When?"

"Well, here's my number," the billionaire said as he fished his phone out from his pocket, and so did Peter. His hand was shaking a little from how excited he was, which he hoped Tony didn't see. They looked at each other, Tony smirking a little when he asked if he can say it. Peter nodded and the older man told him his number and Peter wrote it in his contact list, naming him Tony Stark with all caps because how crazy was that?!

"Daddy, look, I drew something for mommy!" Morgan's voice startled them again and Peter put his phone away quickly.

"Very beautiful baby, she'll love it."

"I didn't draw anything for you," she said with a little pout.

"That's okay, my love, you'll draw something tomorrow," Tony said with a fond smile as he took ahold of Morgan's little hand.

"But mommy said he'd come for me tomorrow."

"Oh honey, I think mommy will be busy tomorrow as well." Tony glanced at Peter and winked before they turned around and walked through the gates, getting into a black car right outside. As they drove off, Peter's finger started to itch for his phone right away.

He didn't see Tony for a few days after that, even though he said he'd come for Morgan the day he gave him his number. Peter started to worry, thinking it was his fault, that he scared him off. It's been four days, including the weekend, and the older man didn't even try to call him.

Fuck, he didn't even get Peter's number! What if he was waiting for a text? Oh God, Peter was so dumb!

He then and there stopped planning tomorrow's classes and he grabbed his phone, opening the chat with Tony. His thumb danced over the screen for a few minutes, trying to decide what to write, trying to think of something nice and sweet, maybe a bit cheeky to make Tony smile. He wrote and deleted. Wrote and then deleted. Until he decided to just stick with the essentials, and he wrote a //very original// text.

Peter: Hi, it's Peter.

Peter: Parker.

He waited for a few minutes, anxiously staring at his screen for a while before he put it down and decided to make himself a tea to distract himself. He walked into his kitchen, filling the kettle with hot water and putting it on the stove to boil. And while his hands were occupied, his mind could do nothing but wander back to that man. He thought back to that day when he asked him out, when he stepped closer and closer to Peter, close enough to touch but he never did. He was too scared he'd come off as weird or eager if he touched him. After all, what kind of teacher touches his students' parents a day after meeting for the first time?

The water boiled soon and Peter poured some in his huge, colorful mug, placing the tea filter in it, a teaspoon of sugar and then he was back in his living room, grabbing his phone from his desk before he sat down on the couch. He checked if he got any messages. And in that very minute, his phone buzzed, making Peter jump and his phone almost fell out of his hand.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!"

Tony: Well hello Peter, you almost made me think you changed your mind about that date

Peter: No, of course not! I'd still very much like to go out with you

Oh wow, that seemed eager as hell. It dawned on Peter that maybe he should've waited at least a couple minutes before texting back, he now probably seemed so pathetic, like he waited for ten minutes staring at his phone and waiting for Tony to write back. He didn't have too much time to worry about that, because another text from Tony came through.

Tony: That's very good to hear, darling. So when are you free?

It was just as quick as Peter's response. Maybe Tony didn't care about how fast Peter texted back to him, maybe he just wanted to talk...

Peter: I'm free this weekend, Saturday if that's ok with you

Tony: That would be good for me too. Around 9 maybe?

Peter: Sounds perfect

Perfect? Why did he say perfect? "That's good," "that'll be nice," "okay," something simpler like that didn't go through your mind, Parker?! What the fuck is wrong with you?!

Tony: Then I'll see you in four days, Peter x

Peter: See you x

They really did that. They really just sent each other x's. Peter squealed a little as he put his phone down, jumping on his seat in excitement. He took a sip of the hot tea that's been resting on his coffee table since he made it, and turned on the TV. A silly romcom was playing, The ugly truth. Peter had seen it before, he liked it, mostly because he found Gerard Butler hot. What? He had a thing for older men.

So he settled down on the comfy couch, a blanket over him and the hot tea warming his icy fingertips as he watched the movie. And while he did, he still thought about Tony, and mentally, he was choosing an outfit for the occasion.

Two days later, on a rainy Wednesday when all of the kids were in the room, playing by themselves during the afternoon, Morgan walked up to Peter as he was talking to another student. She pulled him away and then showed him a drawing of hers.

"Wow, Morgan, that's so pretty! Who are these people," he asked, pointing at the stick figures on the paper.

"That's mommy, that's me, and that's you and daddy."

Peter's eyes widened. "Why me and daddy?"

"Because," she started fiddling with her hands dancing from side to side, "I told daddy I like you very much and he said he likes you too and he said he will take you on a date but I can't tell anyone but I wanted to tell you so please don't tell daddy I told you but he wants to take you on a date."

Peter chuckled, ruffling her brown hair. She looked so much like Tony. "It's okay, little one, I'm sure daddy won't be mad you told me. But don't tell anyone else if he doesn't want you to, okay?"

"Otay!"

"Will you go back to playing now?"

"Yes but I want you to have the drawing."

"I'll keep the drawing," he said with a warm smile and Morgan giggled happily before skipping away, back to her friends. Peter looked at the drawing for quite a while as he walked back to his desk, sitting on top of it. It was like any drawing done by a small child, but this was... somehow different. His kids often drew him and then gave the drawing to him, but this wasn't like that. Morgan drew her father, her mother, herself and Peter. She drew her family... and Peter.

"Hey," he heard a voice next to him and he looked up from the drawing in his hand. It was Tony. "I came for Morgan."

He came in so quietly, not even Morgan was aware that her dad walked into the room. She was playing along with her friends, her back turned to Tony and Peter.

"Hi," Peter greeted when he looked back at Tony.

"What are you looking at?"

"It's a- uh... Morgan drew this for me today." He put the drawing down on the desk facing downwards so that Tony didn't see it. "So you're taking dad duty today?"

"Sort of. Can I see the drawing?"

"Sort of? So you're just picking her up and then dropping her at her mom's house?"

"No, I'm taking her for dinner as well, but full dad duty is when she sleeps at mine. So the drawing-"

"How often does she sleep at yours?"

"Every second week, except for when I have busieness trips."

"I didn't see you last month at all, though."

"No, we left out a month, I had lots of things to do. I've missed her so much."

"I bet you did. I'd miss her too if I didn't get to see her for a month."

"So... can I see the drawing," he asked again.

"Morgan, look who it is!"

"Daddyyy!"

Tony tried to look at Peter angrily, but a smile spread over his face. "Cheeky," he said before turning around and crouching down in front of his daughter. "What's up Morguna? Are you ready for a fun afternoon?"

"Yeees!"

"Grab your jacket and your backpack and we can go." As Morgan ran away, he straightened up again and looked at Peter. "And you... I'll pick you up at 8:30 on Saturday, send me your address."

"Gladly," Peter chuckled.

After the Starks left, Peter turned the drawing up again and stared at it for a couple more minutes until another parent arrived to pick up their kid. He had no idea how to feel about being a part of their family just yet... but he very much liked the idea of Tony Stark.

A few days later, Peter was up at 7am, trying to choose between three outfits for his date that morning. The night before, he went through two facemasks, a hairwash and shaving as well (no, he wasn't about to get to business on the first date, but better be safe than sorry), so for the morning, all he had to do was get dressed and do his hair.

He may or may not had a little breakdown while trying to decide which outfit he wanted to wear, but that's normal, and at the end, he chose a V-neck burgundi shirt with jeans and a jacket. He styled his hair perfectly (thank the hair gods for that, he had never managed to do that before), and panicked when his doorbell buzzed.

"Parker, who is this?"

"Tony."

"You said you'd text before you left and called when you got here!"

"Wanted to surprise you."

"Oh my God, be glad I'm ready anyways, otherwise you'd be in trouble."

Tony laughed. "Alright, Cinderella, come down and show me yourself."

Peter smiled and grabbed his keys and wallet from the kitchen counter before heading out.

"Wow," Tony mumbled when they finally met in front of the building. "Didn't think you could look better."

Peter blushed. "Thank you." The man in front of him was wearing a button up and black jeans, a jacket casually thrown over his shoulders. He looked so effortlessly good, the kind that would get up from bed and just look sexy as ever. "You look great, too."

"Why thank you, angel. Shall we go?"

"Oh yes, of course! Where are we going?"

"I wanted to take you somewhere further away but I saw a very cute café not far away, we could walk there," Tony said as he took ahold of Peter's hand and wrapped it around his arm to lead him. Wow, no one has ever done that to Peter before.

"That's my favorite place!"

"I assumed," Tony commented with a triumphant smirk.

"Since when do you teach kindergarteners?"

"I started about three years ago, I graduated early."

"And why this career?"

Peter chuckled. He often got that question. "I think it's one of the most important jobs, to raise the next generation well. If you don't do it right then humanity will just get more and more screwed up."

"Fair point."

Peter then turned the question around. "And why guns?"

Tony sighed. "It was my dad's legacy. He wanted me to carry on with it, so I did, and I didn't see anything wrong with it until..."

He knew Tony was talking about the time he got kidnapped by the Ten Rings and became Iron Man. That was when Peter really started looking up to the man, he thought it was a very heroic move and he wasn't sure if he'd have had the balls to give up his job to be a superhero and fight people.

"I'm sorry for bringing it up."

"No, it's okay, I just don't talk about this on the first date," he dodged with a joke. Peter laughed and happily changed the subject before it got too much for Tony.

After the short walk, they entered the café and ordered two coffees and pastries for each of them. As they had their breakfasts (at least that's what it was for Peter), they talked about movies, and turns out they were both huge fans of retro sci-fis and action movies. Peter also mentioned that he liked romcoms and after a while, Tony admitted that he "kinda likes them" as well. It was sweet to see this man, a billionaire genius superhero, open up and show Peter his soft side.

But the softest side of Tony came through when Peter asked about Morgan.

"Me and my back then secretary, Pepper had this crazy night. We were both drunk and somehow she just got pregnant. At first we really panicked, but now, we wouldn't have in otherwise. This little sunshine is really the highlight of our lives, she's so chatty and so cute. And I hate watching Disney movies every single night when she's over, but that would be the smallest sacrifice if it meant I could have her over all the time." He showed Peter hundreds of images of her on his phone and Peter's heart melted more and more from every picture. The drawing that the little girl gave him on Wednesday popped into his mind again and now he saw it from a slightly different perspective...

They didn't even notice how quick the time went as they talked, it was like they'd only just met up in front of Peter's building, but when he caught a glimpse of Tony's Rolex, he saw that they've been there for over two hours. He mentioned it to Tony, who laughed and offered Peter a walk home, which he gladly accepted. The older man didn't let him pay the bill either, even though Peter said multiple times that he doesn't expect Tony to buy everything for him. He just insisted.

"I had a lot of fun today, Peter," Tony said as they were heading back to Peter's apartment, this time with not only their arms wrapped around the other's, but holding hands. It felt so natural to hold the man's hand, it made Peter feel somehow... safe.

"So did I. Maybe we could do it again sometime?"

"Oh yeah, I'd like that a lot. Maybe a proper dinner next time?"

Peter raised an eyebrow. "Will you let me pay for at least half of the bill?"

"You're going out with a billionaire and you seriously want to pay the bill?"

"Yes! I'm not going out with you for your money, Tony. I want you to know that. So next time, you'll let me pay."

"If that's what you really want then okay."

When they got back to Peter's apartment, Tony took the younger man's chin between his fingers and tilted it to the side so he could kiss his cheek. Peter blushed deeply and smiled awkwardly. "Thank you so much for today, Peter. I'll see you later."

"Thank you as well. See you."

He watched Tony get in his car before he opened the door, getting in as he heard the engine start. He waved through the window at Tony as he drove away before twirling around twice. Something so unlike life just happened to him and if he was dreaming, he'd give everything for it to never end.

@staticwhispersinthedark wanted to be tagged so here you go!

[bethansfandoms]

remus and sirius living together and being all domestic and fluffy ♡♡♡♡♡♡

yes yes yes yes yes. sorry i’m being slow with listing your prompts, life’s busy <3

(also i sort of hate this so i hope you enjoy, thanks for the prompt :))

A scream from the kitchen startled Remus and he ran towards the source of the noise.

“Sirius, you okay?” he asked, rounding the corner into the room.

“What the fuck is that,” he asked, pointing accusingly at the object in question.

Remus chortled with laughter, “you screamed at the toaster?”

“It is not natural for bread to pop up out of nowhere, Remus.”

“I can’t believe you’ve never heard of a toaster before, you did muggle studies!”

Sirius waved a hand and sushed him. They’d only just moved into the flat in muggle London. It was full of boxes and nothing worked quite as it should, but they loved it because it was all theirs.

“The beans still cooking?” Remus asked. He walked over to the hob to investigate. Apparently neither Sirius or Remus were gifted in the cooking department, so beans on toast it was.

He held his hand near to the pan to see if any heat was coming off of it. “Shit,” he muttered, “electricity turned off again.”

Sirius produced his wand, “let me do it. Every time you’ve done it the muggle way, it broke again.”

“Sirius, we do not mix magic and electricity.”

“Tsh, says who?”

“Says literally everyone.”

“Keep your hair on, Moony. Look, i’m starving. Do you want cold beans on bread, or do you want hot beans on bread?”

Remus sighed, “on your own head be it.”

Sirius grinned and cleared his throat slightly. He experimentally shot some sparks at the hob.

The whole house plumited into darkeness. The silence was broken by Remus applauding very slowly.

“Ah... whoops. Lumos.”

His wand illuminated to reveal a not very impressed looking Remus.

He walked over and opened the curtains in an attempt to let a little of the moonligt enter the flat. “Oh... woah.”

Remus walked over next to him to see what he was looking at. Every single light as far as he could see was out. Remus couldn’t help but laugh. “Sirius! You blew the fuse on the whole street!”

“Yeah, I can see that.”

“Right, give me that wand, you’ve done enough damage with it today.” He snatched the wand from Sirius’s hand.

“But that’s our only source of light!” He protested as Remus sent them back into darkness.

“We’re doing this the muggle way. I’ve got some candles on one of the boxes, you find them, and i’ll try and attempt to find something we can eat without cooking.”

Sirius rummaged around for a bit before finding a collection of candles and tea lights. He asked for his wand to light them but his request was denied so he spent about five minutes breaking matches before they eventually ignited.

Their bed was yet to actually be constructed and the floor in the bedroom had been torn up, so the mattress in the living room was the closest thing they had. Sirius placed the candles around the mattress, at a safe distance as a fire seemed like the last thing they needed.

“Okay, we have cheese which needs eating as the fridge will no longer be able to keep it cold, and I found some crackers. We also have ice cream which will melt without the freezer.”

“Tonight we dine like kings!” Sirius announced. He patted the mattress next to him indicating for Remus to sit down.

“You know,” Remus said, cutting some cheese and opening the crackers, “this would almost be romantic if it weren’t for the circumstances.”

Sirius looked around at the room. It sort of was, really. Candles seemed to always have that effect. The mattress, with all their blankets, pillows and their duvet piled on top of it, created what could only be described as a pillow fort.

A little bubble for them and only them, a safe place from the rest of the world.

“I know you were nervous about leaving hogwarts,” Sirius said, mouth full of cracker, “I was as well. But this... this is okay, is it not?”

Remus smiled, “yeah. Yeah it’s okay. It would be even better with electricity.”

Sirius poked him in the ribs, “oi. I apologised did I not?”

“I don’t think you did actually.”

“Oh shut up,” Sirius shushed him.

“Make me.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow, “you trying to seduce me, Lupin?”

“Depends, is it working?”

Sirius grinned and placed a hand on Remus’s face before closing the distance between their lips and kissing him quickly. “Maybe a little bit.”

Once half a packet of crackers and a whole tub of ice cream had been consumed, Remus allowed one final use of a wand to clear all the things away and extinguish the candles as neither could summon the little effort it would take to stand up.

Sirius and Remus lay close together, limbs wrapped around each other tightly as the heating in their flat was yet to be fixed.

“It’s weird not having Peter and James here,” Sirius mumbled sleepily.

Remus laughed, “I’m sure we’ll still see plenty of them.”

“What if we don’t?” Sirius asked quietly. “There’s a war, Remus.”

Remus hugged Sirius impossibly closer, “no war talk,” he mumbled. “Just for tonight. We spend so much time worrying. How about, for a few hours, we just don’t.”

Sirius hummed slightly in agreement and nuzzled into Remus as much as he could. “We really need to get that heating fixed.”

“Yeah I know,” Remus replied, kissing Sirius’s forehead, “tomorrow.”

“Love you,” Sirius said, barley audible and voice heavy with sleep.

“I love you too. Even if you hog the duvet.”

Sirius started poking him, “if anyone’s a duvet hog in this relationship, it’s you.”

Remus kissed Sirius’s nose which he’d learnt was a quick way to defuse a situation, in this case it was to stop Sirius prodding him in the ribs, which he did.

Sirius fell asleep shortly after, his breathing deep and his body relaxed. Remus looked out of the window, which they hadn’t attached a curtain rail to yet.

Maybe there was a war going on outside, maybe the order of the phoenix was about to go into battle, maybe they were about to receive the news that somebody had died.

Right now it didn’t matter. Remus had Sirius. Remus swore there and then that he’d fight tooth and nail to make sure that never changed.