#hi parker 🥰
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god made us long distance because he knows my clingy ass would not let go of my boyfriend literally ever if he was within 5 miles of me
#lol#i’m so normal actually#mlm#t4t#transmasc#ftm#mlm yearning#t4t mlm#ftm t4t#gay#dogboy#boyfriend#boyfriend posting#hi parker 🥰
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Trey's natural contrapposto 💖
#trey parker#compilation#do you see what i mean......#his poses are so fluid even when hes not trying at all 🥰 i love his body language thats all#if you have more of this feel free to add onto it especially if current trey mwah#some poses r less natural than others here but the thing is hes always putting his weight very heavily on one side never balanced
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GIF Dare #3: ONE moment from each (irl) movie
GIF Dares Series w/ @a-magical-evening
#1- some of my favorite trey acting 2- trey with his pretty eyes on his back 3- trey looking pretty as hell#🥰🥰💖💖✨✨ actually easy to choose#trey parker#matt stone#Orgazmo#cannibal the musical#BASEketball#trey#so many tags#gif dares
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Early in Doctor Strange, Christine tells Stephen "you always spent money as fast as you could make it"
So I'm thinking daddies are in disagreement about their finances, their savings, what they can/can't afford, how much to spend on a vacation this year, etc. it's nothing major, just a very normal slightly-tense couple-conversation about budgeting.
But little!Peter can't imagine why they're talking so seriously about something so unimportant. Daddies need to pay more attention to the important things in life sometimes: like cuddles, s'mores, and knock-knock jokes 😉
“Stephen, we can just travel earlier in the day. It’s like a hundred bucks cheaper almost.”
“But, then we’ll be in a rush early in the morning. I’d rather pay more to not have to stress so much. It’s a vacation after all.”
“Babe-”
“Daddies, Daddies, Daddies!”
The two men pause their discussion, watching as Peter dashes over. The boy almost knocks down the laptop from Stephen’s lap while lauching himself onto the sofa.
“Can we have smores?”
“For dessert you can have two, but then you have to eat your veggies.”
“M’kay!”
Peter is about to run off again, but Tony stops him.
“When we go on vacation, do you wanna leave early in the morning or later in the day?”
Peter blinks at his Daddies, cocking his head slightly to the left like a confused puppy.
“You said going early is cheaper?” Peter asks and Tony nods. “We go early so then we have more money to buy more smores!”
The boy runs off then, leaving Daddies to share a bewildered look. They end up picking the earlier, and cheaper, flight. Maybe their boy had a point about saving some money to buy more smores.
#peters got his priorities right🥰🥰#president grace#little!peter#daddy!tony#daddy!stephen#starker#starkerstrange#strangespider#spiderstrange#ironstrange#tony stark x stephen strange#tony stark x peter parker#peter parker x stephen strange#tony stark#peter parker#stephen strange#ask
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How do I gush about Chase from the sonic realtime fandubs without sounding like a lunatic
#Ive been rewatching them obsessively the past couple days and I realised JUST how consistantly funny he is#his comedic timing and oneliners are so good but his on the fly writing characters is soooo good#Storm in the riders dub? hilarious. Mephiles in the 06 dub? highlight of the dub. Black doom/the devil in the Shadow dub? highlight#HES SO FUNNY#IK WE ALL LOV ALFRED AND PENNY BUT. CHASE <3#His improv with ryan's shadow is consistently my favourite#from the 06 dub the whole thing about them being in a genuinely believable relationship#and Black Doom/the devil being like parasocially obsessed with shadow??#WHY IS IT GENUINELY GOOD UGH#also from the riders dub lines like “HU. I JUST REMEMBERED A TRAUMATISING EXPERIENCE IN MY PAST let me stim a bit and Ill feel better.”#and “Youre not gonna acknowledge me?? i greeted you.”#the whole “Its a gamer pad 😌” thing from the sonic06 dub#the iconic “Bahbahbah shut up shut up shut up I dont care- I do not care! This means NOTHING to me. You and your little friends-#are fucking ANNOYING. this is why I stay in hell-“ THING??? LIKE THE WHOLE ”I DONT CARE I DONT CARE I HATE YOU I HATE YOU“ IS SO GENUINE???#and obviously “Bing bong hey whats up youre doin a bad job” and “Heyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy whats upppppppp its meeee”#and earlier “Hi shadowwww 🥰 I love youuuuu”#Chase is so fucking funny idc#Anyway. go watch the Sonic realtime fandubs if you havent you dont have to know anything about Sonic and its hilarious#snapcube#penny parker#sonic real time fandub#snapcube rtfd
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thinking about “who did this to you?” and frat!boy rafe 🤭 his girl is always at his frat house and one night at a party, he’s looking for her and can’t find her. He eventually finds her crying and maybe with light bruises on her wrists or something? protective frat!rafe 🥰
rafe cameron x fem!reader | hurt & comfort | (creepy guy, wrist grabbing, bruising, protective!rafe, mentions of anxiety, sort of shy!reader,)
︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶
The lights were giving you a headache. Topper thought it was funny to repetitively switch the main light on and off, to try and give the room a rave vibe. Most people inside were too fucked up to be annoyed by it, but you weren’t. You’d only had two vodka cranberries, and honestly all you wanted to do was crawl into Rafe’s bed and go to sleep.
During the majority of these parties you’d be glued to your boyfriend’s side, hanging off his arm like a trophy, but tonight was different. You were trying to branch out more, stop being so anxious at these things. Rafe loves a party, and being his girlfriend you should as well. So, for the last hour you’ve been roaming around; making minimal contact with him.
You left the main room with a huff, rubbing your temple as you walked out into the hall. There was no-one in sight, and you let out a sigh of relief that you had a moment alone. You sat down on the floor, leaning your head back against the wall. The door to the bathroom opened and a boy, one you hadn’t seen before, walked out.
“You alright?” He asked, looking down at you in amusement.
“I’m fine, just takin’ a break,” you explained. You didn’t want to speak to him, but it would be rude to send him away; especially with the mission you were on tonight.
“Mind if I join you?” He questioned. You didn’t even get to respond, he was already sitting down next to you. “I’m Parker, by the way.” You introduced yourself, shaking his outstretched hand. “Ah, you’re Cameron’s girl?”
“Yeah,” you smiled, just the mention of him had your mood lifting. Maybe you should just give up with the outgoing thing, maybe you should just go and find—
“You don’t seem like his type.” The statement caught you off guard, all thoughts leaving your head as you looked at him with furrowed brows.
“What does that mean?” You wondered, trying to sound calm.
He let out a hum, as if deep in thought, before shrugging his shoulders and giving you a smirk. “Rafe’s, like, into all this shit, y’know? Parties, drinking, drugs. You’re sat in the hallway alone.”
“Opposites attract,” you shrugged back, picking at the pink nail polish on your nails.
“That is the saying,” he laughed, running his fingers through his hair. “I just think maybe, a pretty girl like you, deserves someone that’s more like her. Someone that would sit with her in the hallway, for example.”
You thought he was degrading you, like the rest of Rafe’s fanboys usually did. But, you realised now that wasn’t the case. He was your fanboy. You let out an awkward chuckle, looking to the door that hadn’t opened since you stepped out. You prayed for someone, anyone, to need the bathroom.
“I’m gonna head back in—” you decided to screw the anxiety, and just do what was necessary.
“Why?” He interrupted. He didn’t sound quite so friendly anymore. “We’re hangin’ out, don’t go in yet.”
“I need to find Rafe.” You tried to stand, but his fingers gripped onto your wrist to stop you. You winced in pain, his hold only tightened. “Get off.”
“No—” your prayers were answered as the door opened, a drunken couple came stumbling through. The sudden interruption had him letting go of you, and you swiftly rushed away.
You ran upstairs, through the corridor of boy’s bedrooms, until you reached Rafe’s. With tears in your eyes, you pushed open the door and laid down in his bed.
It only took ten minutes for the door to open again, you flinched; thinking that maybe Parker had followed you up here, but you let out a shaky sigh of relief at the sight of Rafe.
“Hey, baby. There you are, been lookin’ all over— are you crying?” He interrupted himself, walking over to sit on the edge of the bed.
“No,” you blatantly lied through your tears, voice coming out muffled.
He wrapped his arms around you, wiping your tears with the pads of his thumbs. “Hey, what happened? It get a bit overwhelmin’? You could have told me, you know I’d much rather sit up here with you.”
“Not exactly…” you reached up to move your hair from your eye-line, you realised your mistake the moment that gentle look in his eyes dropped.
“What is that?” He grabbed your arm, not harshly but forcefully. Your wrist had turned a bright red colour, bruises would be forming soon enough.
“Nothing!” You squeaked out, trying to pull your arm away from him.
“Don’t bullshit me. That wasn’t there earlier. What happened?” He demanded to know. You knew he was serious, the look in his eyes and the tone of his voice.
You gave in, tears rolling down your cheeks as you explained to him what happened with the boy. He stroked over your wrist, a moment of silent going over the two of you before he leant forward and kissed your temple.
“Get changed, put on a movie. I’ll be back in a minute, okay?” He murmured softly.
“Where’re you going?” You asked nervously, you were pretty sure you already knew the answer.
“To sort out that fuckin’ kid. No one puts their hands on you, get it?” He stated, pecking your lips before getting off the bed.
You didn’t argue, there was no point. Rafe was too in love with you, if someone hurt you he’d do just about anything to get payback.
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Where Will All The Martyrs Go [Chapter 1: Welcome To A New Kind Of Tension]
Series summary: In the midst of the zombie apocalypse, both you and Aemond (and your respective travel companions) find yourselves headed for the West Coast. It’s the 2024 version of the Oregon Trail, but with less dysentery and more undead antagonists. Watch out for snakes! 😉🐍
Series warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), violence, bodily injury, med school Aemond, character deaths, nature, drinking, smoking, drugs, Adventures With Aegon, pregnancy and childbirth, the U.S. Navy, road trip vibes, Jace is here unfortunately.
Series title is a lyric from: “Letterbomb” by Green Day.
Chapter title is a lyric from: “American Idiot” by Green Day.
Word count: 5.1k
💜 All my writing can be found HERE! 💜
Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist 🥰
“What do you think, should we kill ourselves now or later?” Rio is spinning his Beretta M9 around on his index finger. This is not advisable. He doesn’t care.
Your hands are gripping the skeletal latticework of the transmission tower, steel hot enough to burn you; no electricity hums in the power lines suspended above your heads. Your eyes are on the horizon, golden June sunlight over fields no one has planted. Weeds are growing up through the earth, feral and defiantly useless, reclaiming their land just like the deer are, and the rabbits and the opossums and the turtles and the squirrels and the doves. The reign of humanity is over. Now you’re prey animals too. “Let’s wait.”
“For what?”
“Maybe someone will save us.”
“Ain’t nobody coming, Chips!” Rio says. “We’re a hundred feet off the ground in the middle of nowhere, motherfucking Catawissa, Pennsylvania, and we haven’t run into anyone since that Amish family back in Lightstreet, and I wouldn’t count on them driving by in their horse and buggy to pick us up.”
“We’re about sixty feet off the ground.”
“Okay, Bob the Builder, why don’t you whip up a helicopter or something to get us out of here?” Rio’s M9 has one bullet left in it, yours has three, nowhere near enough. At the bottom of the tower is a swarm of fifty-four zombies; you’ve counted them twice. There are no cute euphemisms: walkers, biters, the infected. They were once people and now they’re not. They wear the vestiges of their former lives, like how those who believe in reincarnation see meaning in birthmarks: here you were stabbed, there you were kissed by your true love. They lurch and snarl and hiss in their professional attire, college t-shirts, Vans and Jordans, septum piercings, wedding rings. They decompose in a miasma of metallic blood and spoiled meat. Parker had been the last one to the transmission tower, and they grabbed him by the legs. Now they’re chewing the gristle off his bones: disconnected ligaments that swing like strands of cobwebs, scarlet threads of muscle. “Oh shit,” Rio says, looking down. “We’ve got a smart one.”
Most zombies don’t have the fine motor skills to climb, swim, or open doors, but every once in a while—just like out of every 5,000 or 10,000 or however many ordinary humans you’ll pull the lever on the genetic slot machine and get a Picasso or a kid who can score a 1600 on the SATs—you run into an overachiever. This zombie, a teenage boy with red hair and a blue plaid shirt, is slowly scaling the tower. He’s already ten feet off the ground.
Rio aims his M9, semiautomatic, packs a punch but won’t break your arm with the recoil. “Fuck off, Ed Sheeran!” He fires and misses; the bullet grazes the boy’s shoulder. He groans dramatically and asks you in defeat: “Will you take care of that, please?”
You pull your pistol out of your holster and lean away from the tower to get a better angle, holding onto the scaffolding with one hand. You feel Rio’s large fingers close around your wrist, ready to yank you back if you slip. You click off the safety with your thumb, peer through the front sight, aim and wait until you’re sure. It’s a headshot: shards of skull ricochet off steel beams, half-rotten brains spray out in a mist. The carcass plummets to the earth.
“All this horror, all this catastrophe.” Rio’s eyes, dark like a mineshaft, drift mischievously back to you. “We could…distract each other.”
He’s not serious; this is a game you play. “No thanks.”
“You don’t want to die a virgin.”
“I do if you’re the only other person up here.”
“You deny a condemned man his final wish?”
“We’re not dying,” you insist. “What about Sophie?”
“Sophie would understand given the circumstances. She would want me to be happy.”
“What if we have sex and then immediately thereafter get rescued? You’d be a cheater. You’d be consumed by guilt. You’d never be able to take me back to your parents’ doomsday prepper cult commune in bumblefuck Oregon to wait out the apocalypse in peace.”
“You’re going to appreciate those doomsday preppers when you’re eating Chef Boyardee out of a can instead of shuffling around as a reanimated corpse.”
“Yeah, I’m sure I will,” you muse. “So you agree we’re going to get off this tower somehow.”
Rio sighs and whistles a morose tune: what a shame. “You should have gone out with that Marine at Corpus Christi.”
You frown, repentant, wistful. There’s nothing on the horizon except fields and trees and black storm clouds of crows taking flight. “I was afraid of making a mistake.”
“And now look at you. About to die as pure as Pope Francis.”
“How did this happen?! We’re not idiots, we’re goddamn professionals!” You re-holster your M9. You’re still wearing your uniforms from when you went AWOL, stealing away from Saratoga Springs like rats from a sinking ship.
“I’ll tell you exactly how this happened. You let that loser Parker come with us even though I knew it was a bad idea—”
“I couldn’t just leave him there! He started crying!”
“And he had one job, which was to check the oil in the Humvee, and clearly he failed because…” Rio glances at his watch. “Approximately four hours ago, the engine started smoking and the whole thing died on us, so we had to get out and walk, like we’re pioneers or some shit, and then that hoard down there came out of nowhere, and the only place left to go was up. Freaking Parker. I could murder that guy.” An awkward pause. “I mean, the zombies beat me to it. But still.”
“He had two jobs. He was also carrying the extra ammo.”
“Don’t remind me.” Rio isn’t messing around with his M9 anymore. He’s contemplating it as the sun hovers just past noon, hot and shadowless. “How many bullets do you have left?”
“Two.”
“Good. Don’t use them.”
You look at him, this man you’ve known for over four years, this man you’ve traveled the world with. You’ve already gone so much farther than Oregon together. How is it possible that what was once a six hour flight is now a month-long journey that might kill you? “It’s not over yet, Rio.”
“Remember what you promised me.”
His hushed voice in the moonlit indigo of the Humvee the night you left Saratoga Springs: Don’t let me die alone. “We’re going to be okay. We’re going to make it to Oregon.” Then you grin, sweltering summer air breathing over you, humid, heavy, the screeching of insects in the trees. “But if it comes to that, I’d be happy to shoot you first.”
Rio smiles as the zombies below growl and claw at the steel framework of the transmission tower. Flesh peels off their fingers until you can see the gore-stained white of their bones. “Don’t miss.”
“I rarely do.”
“Do you have any more packs of Cheddar Whales in your pockets or—?” He cuts off as he spots something in the distance. His eyes go wide, his jaw drops open. “What…what is that?!”
It’s an SUV, massive, dark blue, rumbling across the field in a dust storm of displaced earth. It’s headed straight towards you. There is someone standing up through the sunroof, short dark hair that whips wildly in the wind, binoculars. You can hear the engine revving and, faintly, Kanye West’s Gold Digger. As the SUV nears the tower, Sunroof Kid ducks inside and closes the hatch.
Rio explodes into hysterical, rapturous laughter. “Oh my God, we’re saved! We’re not going to die up here! Oh, thank you, Jesus, thank you. I’m never going to jack off on Sundays again.”
The SUV, still accelerating, plows through the mob of zombies. Severed limbs go flying; bones crunch and snap. There’s a woman driving, you can see now through the slightly tinted windows. She puts the monstrous vehicle and reverse and does another pass. Zombies paw futilely at the sides of the SUV, a Chevy Tahoe, as it turns out. They smack their open, soggy palms on the windows; they gnaw and lick at the bumpers and the wheel wells. The Tahoe circles to regain speed, the engine growling, a bear, a dragon, and barrels into the remaining ambulatory zombies. The hoard is now largely incapacitated. Rio is cheering and clapping his hands.
The Tahoe’s doors open, and your rescuers appear. There are two men wielding baseball bats: one with long dark curly hair, the other tall and blonde, and there’s something wrong with his face, the left side, though you are too far away to see clearly. They move rapidly through the battlefield of felled, moaning bodies, swinging their bats and crushing skulls. There’s another blonde guy, shorter, softer, pink with sunburn, wearing plastic sunglasses and a teal polo with a popped collar. He’s spinning a golf club in his right hand. He is followed out of the Tahoe by one last blonde, spindly and swift, stalking the perimeter with a compound bow, a quiver of arrows secured to his belt. Rio is singing along to Gold Digger, drumming his fists on the steel beams.
“Now, I ain’t sayin’ you a gold digger, you got needs
You don’t want a dude to smoke, but he can’t buy weed
You go out to eat, he can’t pay, y’all can’t leave
There’s dishes in the back, he gotta roll up his sleeves…”
The driver wriggles out of the Tahoe with some difficulty; she is seven or eight months pregnant. “Stay in the car,” Madame Driver tells someone inside as she slams the door shut. She’s holding a hammer and sets about euthanizing the zombies still squirming on the ground and gnashing their cracked teeth at her.
Golf Club says: “Jace, bro, that’s so embarrassing. You’re gonna let her do that?”
Curly—or, rather, Jace—shrugs. “Exercise is good for the baby.”
All three blondes respond at once in a chorus of appalled disapproval. Interestingly, your rescuers have British accents. From within the Tahoe, someone turns off the CD player. This is wise; noise tends to attract more zombies. Madame Driver, unaffected, puts her hammer through the eye socket of a former Arby’s employee.
Jace flings back: “She likes helping! It would be sexist to tell her she’s not allowed to!”
The Scarred Man looks up at you and Rio and salutes, two fingers glanced off his forehead. You begin climbing down the scalding rungs of the transmission tower to meet them.
“Oh fuck, Aemond, you gotta deal with this,” Golf Club says. He is holding a yowling zombie at arm’s length by the straps of its overalls. It’s tiny, maybe a kindergartener. “You know I can’t kill the little kid ones.”
The Scarred Man, Aemond, turns to him. He’s wearing a maroon Harvard University t-shirt. “You have to learn how to do things yourself. I might not always be around.”
Golf Club scoffs. “As if I’d outlive you.”
“Go on. You can do it,” Aemond says. Behind him, more people are emerging from the Chevy Tahoe: Binoculars Buddy, a slight girl with shifting, watchful eyes, a blonde woman in a billowing sundress and with a burlap messenger bag slung over one shoulder.
Golf Club is still struggling. “Aw, Aemond, man, he’s got light-up sneakers!”
Jace strides over irritably. “Aegon, you’re so fucking useless…” He kicks the miniature zombie to the dirt, raises his bloodied baseball bat, and brings it down on a skull that disintegrates like an overripe Halloween pumpkin. “You’re welcome.”
“Get bit, you poodle.”
Rio hits the ground first, his boots thumping against untamed earth. Aemond sets his baseball bat aside and reaches out to offer assistance as you dangle from a white-hot steel beam. “No,” Rio tells him roughly. “Back up.”
Aemond shows his palms and complies, retreating several paces. Rio helps you down. Now you can see Aemond’s face perfectly. There’s a relatively fresh wound running down the left half of his face, the violent red of burgeoning scar tissue, clear stitches; his eye has been sutured shut. But that’s not why you’re staring at him. His other eye is a focused, hypnotic blue, his short blonde hair disheveled. He keeps touching his chin, a nervous tick. Immediately, there’s something you like about him. He gives you the impression of someone who has gotten very good at hiding how afraid he is. Aemond looks away from your gaze, thinking you’re horrified by his injury. Then, reluctantly, he comes back. There’s forbidden temptation the lines of his ravaged face, a curiosity, a hesitation.
“Thank you for saving us,” you say to your rescuers, tearing your attention from Aemond. It’s not easy. “That was really, really cool of you, and we know you didn’t have to do it. So thanks.”
“Yeah,” Rio adds. “Sorry your Tahoe is covered in guts now.”
Aemond turns to confer silently with his companions, then asks you: “Where are you headed?”
“Odessa, Oregon.”
He nods. “We’re going to California.”
“NorCal,” Jace says, holding his baseball bat across his shoulders. “Bay Area.”
“Are you two together?” Aegon asks.
“Yeah,” Rio says, misunderstanding the question.
“Not like that,” you clarify. “He has a wife and baby, that’s what’s in Oregon.”
“So you’re single,” Aegon says, grinning toothily. His fellow travelers—family? friends? classmates? a combination thereof?—grumble and roll their eyes.
“Um, I mean, yeah, technically…?”
“Aemond’s also single,” Madame Driver informs you, relishing the chaos.
“He’s single but deformed and traumatized,” Aegon says. “I am mentally uninjured.”
You chuckle awkwardly. Your eyes, by their own volition, flick back to Aemond. He peers down at the ground then up at you again, smiling, a little sheepish, a little wicked.
Aegon groans, swinging his golf club around. “Man, come on.”
“I didn’t say anything,” Aemond replies.
“No, it’s just right there, all over your fucked up face.”
Madame Driver feigns a sympathetic frown at Aegon. “How sad. Guess you won’t have anyone to give your syphilis to.”
“I don’t have syphilis,” Aegon tells you. Then, to the others: “I can’t be the only single guy! It’s pathetic!”
“I’m single,” Archery Team says brightly.
“You’re like twelve. You don’t count.”
“I’m seventeen!”
“Are you Army?” Aemond asks you and Rio.
“Navy,” Rio replies. “We were stationed at Saratoga Springs in upstate New York.”
Aemond is fascinated. “You’re deserters?”
“What are you gonna do about it, Brit Boy?” Rio says. Aemond blinks at him. Aegon cackles, drawing huge circles in the air with his golf club.
“Everyone’s deserting,” you explain diplomatically.
“They were going to evacuate the base and send everyone left into New York City,” Rio says. “Fuck that, we’d heard things, we weren’t about to go on some suicide mission. We weren’t even in a combat unit for Christ’s sake, we’re Seabees.”
“You’re what?” Aemond asks, puzzled.
“We do construction. That’s why we were still at the base. If they’re putting us on the front lines, the situation is desperate. I’m not going in the meatgrinder. I’m not gonna be like those Hitler Youth kids sent to Russia.”
Aegon is squinting behind his sunglasses, truly lost. “Huh?”
“We should go west together,” Aemond suggests. He’s attempting to sound casual.
“I thought we didn’t want to travel with strangers, Aemond,” Jace says pointedly, mocking him. “I thought they couldn’t be trusted, Aemond. I thought they might slit our throats and steal our Tahoe in the dead of night, Aemond.”
“We’re useful!” Rio bargains. “We can shoot things!”
Aegon is very confused. “I thought you did construction.”
“Everyone has to go through basic training,” Aemond tells him impatiently, watching you.
“She got the Marksmanship Medal,” Rio says, grinning, proud.
“A lot of people get that,” you demur immediately.
“We can give you guys weapons training,” Rio continues. “You seem…like you probably don’t know about guns. Like you read a lot of books.” He gestures to Aegon. “Except that one.”
Aegon snickers, unoffended, still swinging his golf club around. “I don’t read books. I read maps.”
“Okay, lets do it,” Aemond says. “We’ll stick together across the Midwest and split up before we get to the Pacific. That puts us at ten people, and there’s safety in numbers.”
“Why do you get to make all the decisions?!” Jace demands. “Who signed that fucking contract? I didn’t consent to those terms.”
“Because that’s what Criston told us the last time the phones worked,” Aegon replies smugly. “He said Aemond’s in charge. So he is. If you want to find your way to California on your own, you’re welcome to try.”
“Who’s Criston?” you ask.
“Our fake dad,” Aegon says.
“Oh, your stepdad?”
“No, our mom is still married to our dad, he just sucks.”
“He does suck,” Archery Team confirms.
Rio tells you: “Hey, Chips, you’re standing in a torso.”
“Am I?” You look down. Your boots are buried to the ankles in the rotting gore of a bare midsection with only one limp arm still attached. You step out of it and shake off the bits of decomposing organs. “Gnarly. Thanks.” You spot Parker’s backpack containing the extra ammunition, pick it up out of the dirt, and throw it over your shoulders.
“Chips?” Aemond says. “Like…chocolate chips?”
“No, like woodchips. I’m a carpenter. I mean, I was a carpenter, I guess. That’s what I did in the Navy. Some people call the carpenters Chips.”
“I was an electrician,” Rio says. “So clearly, now that all the power is down, that turned out to be a fantastic career path.” Then he formally introduces himself. “Hi everyone, I’m Rio.”
Aegon perks up. “Oh, like the Rio Grande.”
Rio pretends to be scandalized. “Wow, racist.”
“So racist,” you agree.
Aegon’s chubby pink face fills with horror. “No, wait, I didn’t…um…”
Rio laughs and taps the nametag on his chest, black letters stitched over green camouflage: Osorio.
“His first name’s Bryan,” you say. “But no one calls him that.”
“My mom calls me Bryan. Sophie calls me Bryan.”
Aemond points at his companions, one after the other. “That’s my brother Aegon and my sister Helaena. Jace and Luke are our cousins. Then Baela and Rhaena are their girlfriends. Well, Baela…she’s kind of a fiancée. But there’s no official ring yet.”
Jace says: “Unfortunately, all the jewelry stores were looted on account of the apocalypse.”
“And I’m Daeron,” Archery Team says buoyantly, waving. Then he shields his eyes as he notices something at the edge of the field. “Oh, guys…?”
There are zombies approaching with clumsy, staggering strides, only a few now, but more will follow. That’s the thing; they are in seemingly endless supply. It’s easy to get too comfortable with them, to think of them as slow and mindless, even comical, even pitiful. But they can surprise you. And it only takes one bite to become just like them.
“Time to return to the Tahoe,” Baela announces, waddling towards the driver’s seat. Rhaena climbs in the passenger’s side. The rest of you pile into the back. The SUV has nine seats; Aegon crouches on the floor without being asked to. He’s unfolding a map he pulled from the pocket of his salmon-colored shorts and laying it flat across Rio’s knees so everyone can see. Baela turns the key in the ignition and the Tahoe rumbles to life. You spot a few red gas cans under the seats. If you can’t find more when that runs out—siphoning it out of other vehicles, stumbling across a gas station that is miraculously not drained dry—you’ll be walking, biking, or skateboarding to the West Coast. Or embracing the Amish lifestyle with a horse and buggy.
“We were planning to swing by Fort Indiantown Gap,” you tell Aemond. He twists around in his seat to look at you, that absorbed crystalline blue gaze. “That’s where we were headed before our Humvee broke down. It’s a National Guard Training Center. It’s probably cleaned out like everywhere else, but if it’s not…we might be able to find some guns and ammo there.”
“Where is it?”
“An hour south of here, just outside of Harrisburg.”
Baela is watching Aemond in the rearview mirror. He gives her a nod. “How do I get there?” Baela asks you.
“South on Route 42. Did you see the signs on your way in…?”
“Yup. Got it.” Baela steers the Tahoe across the field, kicking up a vortex of parched soil. She intentionally runs down four zombies before swerving left onto a two-lane road. Then she turns up the volume on the CD player: War Pigs by Black Sabbath. “It’s a mixtape,” she informs you.
Aegon points to southcentral Pennsylvania on a map of the United States of America, highway arteries and local route veins. “We’re here,” he says, sliding around on the floor of the Tahoe as Baela drives. His index finger traces the path; it’s a precarious balance between avoiding the most heavily populated areas and still having access to the necessary trappings of civilization: supplies to scavenge, roads to follow, buildings to take shelter in. “We’ll stop by Fort Indiantown Gap and then head northwest, thread the needle between Pittsburgh and Cleveland, stay south of Detroit and Chicago, cut across Iowa, Nebraska, Wyoming, that top part of Utah, then go our separate ways in Nevada. Oh my God, it’s just like the Oregon Trail! Do you guys remember that game?! Fording rivers, getting dysentery, hunting bison to extinction?” He starts humming the theme song.
Jace smirks, chomping on a Twizzler. “Hope you don’t die of a snakebite or something. That’d be awful.”
Aegon ignores him and refolds the map. “Rio! Fuck, marry, kill. The last three first ladies before Biden.”
Rhaena says, exasperated: “Aegon, you have to stop asking people that. It’s inappropriate.”
“Oh, easy,” Rio replies. “I’m fucking Laura Bush.”
“That’s what I’m saying!” Aegon gives him a high five.
“And then I have to marry Michelle.”
“You gotta.”
“Which means Melania gets the grape Flavor Aid.”
“It’s the only logical answer.”
“I’d fuck Melania,” Jace says.
“Of course you would, you sick, sick man,” Aegon mutters, rolling down a window and sticking his head out like a golden retriever, his sunglasses still on, his blonde hair flapping in the wind. There’s a tattoo in black ink on his forearm, you notice for the first time: It’s not over ‘til you’re underground.
~~~~~~~~~~
Fort Indiantown Gap is a ghost town like a gold seam emptied, an oil well run dry, a collapsed coal mine. There’s no central armory but instead a series of arms rooms, one for each unit. Every single scrap of lethal metal is gone: no pistols, no rifles, no grenade launchers or machine guns, no ammo, not even pocketknives, although you do find clean PT uniforms for you and Rio to change into, t-shirts and running shorts and sneakers. Clothes are surprisingly difficult to acquire now. Most stores have either been looted or overrun by zombies, and Amazon is tragically no longer delivering. You can break into houses that seem abandoned, but then you have to hope the people who lived there just so happened to be your size and also aren’t waiting inside to eat you. It’s not usually a wise gamble.
You study Aemond and his companions as you move through the base clearing buildings, you and Rio with loaded M9s in your holsters and clutching borrowed baseball bats; gunshots are best avoided if possible so as not to attract unwanted attention. Aemond and Jace take point, almost always; Aegon hovers on Aemond’s blind left side, wagging his golf club around, occasionally slapping Aemond’s shoulder to remind him he’s there. Daeron prowls at the back and on the periphery. Baela pretends she isn’t struggling to keep up. Luke and Rhaena are the lookouts. Helaena fills her burlap messenger bag with small treasures you don’t even notice her accumulating: bottles of Advil, batteries, lighters, pens, tweezers, Band-Aids, Uno cards. You encounter only three zombies, easily decommissioned. Fort Indiantown Gap must have been evacuated weeks ago. You wonder what pointless battles her soldiers died in. Everyone knows the dead have won.
What the abandoned base lacks in weaponry it makes up for in food. You find a chow hall with an untouched kitchen, a wealth of shelf-stable delicacies: chili, saltine crackers, applesauce, fruit cocktail with bright red gems of cherries, peanut butter, strawberry jelly, green beans, carrots, peas, beets, tuna fish, chicken noodle soup. You feast—a Thanksgiving, a Last Supper—then settle into the barracks next door as the sun begins to set. There are plenty of bunkbeds and a closet full of pillows and sheets. Someone always has to be up to keep watch; Daeron and Jace immediately go to sleep so they can get some rest before they are shaken awake sometime around 2 or 3 a.m. Baela says she’s going to lie down for a minute and almost immediately begins snoring. Helaena makes silent amendments in her notebook; she keeps an inventory of everything the group has, needs, or wants.
Outside, Rio and Aegon are engaged in a spirited game of Uno. Luke is sitting cross-legged on the roof of the Tahoe with his binoculars. Rhaena is beside him softly reading a book out loud: The Hunger Games. Aemond is on a wooden bench on the front porch of the barracks, watching the sun sink into the west. When he notices you, he seems pleased. “Hi.”
“Hi. I’m sorry we wasted your gas to come here.”
“No, it was a good idea. It was worth a shot. And now we have a safe place to sleep tonight.” His eye drops lower, his scarred brow crinkles in concern. “What happened to your hands?”
“My hands?” In the haze of the adrenaline, you didn’t even notice. Your palms are blistered, swollen and stinging. “Oh. It was the transmission tower. The steel beams got really hot while we were up there. I’ll be okay.”
“Let me bandage them. You don’t want to get an infection.”
“Really, I’m fine, I shouldn’t inconvenience—”
“Sit down,” Aemond insists. You take a seat on the bench while he goes to the Tahoe to fetch a black nylon bag about the size of a briefcase. Rio casts you a furtive, crafty grin. It’s nothing, you mouth back, more to convince yourself than him. Your pulse is thudding in your ears; your cheeks are warm. You haven’t felt like this since you almost agreed to go on a date with that Marine you met at Corpus Christi, where your battalion had been dispatched to build a series of new airplane hangars. Aemond returns to the bench and begins wiping down your palms with antiseptic. “Sorry if this stings.”
It does, but you’re grateful for the distraction. “It isn’t too bad.”
“You’re not from Oregon.” He’s noticed your accent.
“Kentucky,” you confess.
“You aren’t making a stop at home before traveling west?”
“Why would I want to go back there?”
Aemond looks at you uncertainly; he can’t tell if you’re joking. You like the way his voice goes quiet when it’s just the two of you. You like the way he barely shows his teeth when he talks, like he’s keeping secrets.
After a moment, as the sky begins to turn to orange and pink and lilac, you continue. “People join the Army for a paycheck and a place to sleep, free college, health insurance. People join the Marines to prove they’re the best. People join the Air Force because they want to be in the military but think they’re too smart for grunt work. And people join the Navy to get away from home. I wanted to get far, far, far away.”
Aemond smiles. “Are you far enough yet?” He doesn’t mean by miles. He means the fact that the world will never be the same. Now he’s coating your hands in a thick white ointment, cool and blissful.
“I was afraid of so many things, and now none of them matter.”
“We all have brand new things to be afraid of.” He gets a roll of gauze and begins to wrap your palms, careful to keep your fingers and thumbs unencumbered.
“Aemond?”
“Yeah.”
“What happened to your face?”
He shrugs. He’s trying not to be resentful about it; he can’t change it anyway. “We were scavenging supplies from a Home Depot. We had to board up the house and wait until things…got quieter and it was safe to travel out of Boston.” And by got quieter, he means that the initial wave passed, the zombies began to wander out of the cities and disperse, the survivors were hunkered down and not participating in gunfights or Vikings-style pillaging in the streets. “A piece of sheet metal fell on me from the top shelf. Aegon and Jace dragged me home, they thought I was dying.”
“I’m glad you weren’t. Who treated it?”
“I did.”
You can’t disguise your shock. “You…you stitched up your own face?”
He smirks, finishing the bandages on your hands. “I was in medical school before all this.”
“You’re a doctor?”
“I was an intern. So definitely not a doctor, but the closest thing to one I had access to. And I had taken some things from the hospital when everything went to hell. So I got a little mirror, and I lidocained myself very generously, and I started suturing.”
You don’t know what to say. His eye?? He stitched his eye shut?? “I mean…you did a great job.”
“I’m aware I look like Frankenstein, but I guess it’s better than not being here at all.”
“No, seriously. You look amazing, Aemond.”
He stares at you, bewildered. You realize how bizarre it must sound. You both start laughing as Aemond packs his supplies back into his medical kit. He touches his fingertips to his chin a few times—restless, meditative—then stands to return inside the barracks. “I’m…going to go check on Helaena.”
“Yeah. Cool. See ya.” You don’t watch him leave. This takes intentional effort.
Seconds pass anonymously: no time you need to be anywhere, nothing late, nothing early, no television premiers, no football games, no State Of The Unions, no time zones to do mental math over. You aren’t even sure what day it is. The earth has erased your invisible prisons. Now all that remain are the real ones: weather, terrain, disease, predators.
There is the creaking of weight on the porch steps. You warn him: “I’m not interested in your commentary.”
Rio winks as he says: “Maybe you won’t die a virgin after all.”
#aemond x y/n#aemond x you#aemond x reader#aemond targaryen x y/n#aemond targaryen x you#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen
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i’ll love you FOREVER if you give us more hockey!peter. (i already love you forever but shhhhhh) maybe he gets in a fight on the ice and just gets super cocky bc he knows reader thinks he looks super hot? anyways 🥰
Eyes
✰ college!hockey!peter parker x f!reader
✰ word count: 0.6k
✰ summary: peter's fights on the ice are a spectacle for all, even you (and he notices).
✰ warnings: mentions of blood and fighting, a few kisses, fluff omg.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
main m.list ⋆ peter parker m.list
not my gif, credit to the owner :)
Your heart pounded as soon as you saw Peter throw down his gloves, then he raised his fists, ready to strike. The crowd loved a good fight, they took to their feet and roared. You stood as well, unable to peel your eyes away from Peter, now waiting for the best moment to swing his fist.
Hockey fights were always brutal, especially when it came to Peter. He carried a lot of anger in his form, it showed in his punches. His opponents usually fell to the ice after the second hit, their noses or teeth bloody. So, as soon as Peter reaches for the collar of the poor boy in front of him, you knew you were in for a quick yet rough fight.
Within the first punch, the other player’s helmet flew off of him, leaving him vulnerable. I guess he realized the strength Peter could carry, so he quickly punched him back, socking him in the mouth, the only exposed part of his helmet. You might’ve been hallucinating, but you swore you saw Peter grin at the pain, which made your knees weak.
The brawl quickly ended when Peter took the player to the ice, causing the referees to split them apart. Peter picked up his gloves, straightened out his helmet, and spit out the blood from his mouth. He looks up towards your direction, searching for your face before flashing you a great big smile, showing off his now-stained teeth. You shake your head at his cockiness, trying to hide your grin.
The game ends in another win and also ends with you meeting Peter outside the locker room, just like usual. “You know,” you start as he walks up to you, a stupid sly smirk on his face, “if you start another fight like that tomorrow night, you’ll get more than a trip to the penalty box.”
He wraps his arm around your waist, keeping your eyes locked with his, “As if you wouldn’t beg to see me in another fight tomorrow.” He knows he caught you, he felt you tense in his hold.
You’re flustered, you try to cover it up with a cough before asking, “And what makes you think that?”
Peter leans down and presses a soft kiss to your forehead, then your cheek, and finally one on your lips. “I saw how you looked at me when I looked for you in the stands. Sure, you were shaking your head in disapproval, but your eyes…oh your eyes,” he looks into your eyes like he was almost searching for something in them, “they give you away, honey.”
Shoving him away, you begin to walk away from him before you feel him tug you back. You huff before he reaches into his duffel bag and pulls out a bouquet of roses. “What are these for Peter?” A hint of curiosity makes your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“What,” he smiles, “I can’t get a pretty girl flowers?”
You take the bouquet from him and smell the sweet petals. Looking back at him, you sigh, “Oh, you can. Am I making you soft, Parker?” You can’t help but tease him, his blatant kindness feels weird after you two have been teasing each other for months.
“Yeah, you wish,” he grabs you by your thighs and flings you over your shoulder, eliciting a giggle from you, now upside down.
✰ author's note: i have heard everyone's cries for more hockey peter and here i am. because i couldn't resist. my two worlds colliding and i love it. thank you anon for the ask!! if you want to send one in, my ask box is open!! don't forget to like, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed!! ok, ily bye!!
#hockey!peter parker#hockey!peter#peter parker x reader#tasm!peter x reader#andrew garfield peter parker#tasm!peter parker#fluff#marvel#peter parker
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Omg for miguel requests!! Can i request one where spider-reader is very bold and always flirting with miguel and one time he flirts back and she gets super flustered and doesnt know how to respond😭
Thank you so much!! I love your writing youre so talented
AN | No, but this concept was aces! I hope you enjoy 🥰
Warnings | [Suggestive] Language
Pairing | Miguel x Fem!Reader
Word Count | 2.6k
Masterlist | Main, Spider-Man
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
You could hear his angry footsteps before anything else and you braced yourself for his fury. Instead you busied yourself with looking at your suit to make sure everything was intact…or at least pretending to do so.
"What the fuck were you thinking!?" ahh yes, there it was. He was definitely angry, but you tried to keep it cool. You weren't about to admit that he made you nervous, even if the nerves were slight. You looked up from your sleeve and blinked innocently at him, "don't do that!"
"Do what?" You kept your voice sweet and soft, "what are you talking about, Miguel?"
"You - I - you are so infuriating!" he waved his finger in front of your face and you simply shrugged, "you never listen to me! I don't know why I even let you stay on the team!"
"Oh Miguelito," you gently reached up and brushed his hand out of your face. You were well aware of what he was talking about - you'd directly gone against his orders. But, to be fair, things had turned out just fine despite choosing your own method. It wasn't like you'd fucked up some cannon event, "everything's fine and no one got hurt!"
"But you don't listen," he sighed heavily, "that's the problem. And one day, it's going to get someone hurt. I'm not going to let you do that to anyone…or yourself."
"You're so cute," a dreamy sigh escaped your lips as you touched his face, brushing your knuckles across his cheek. He lightly slapped your hand away, "but you're going to give yourself wrinkles if you keep worrying."
"I'm being serious!"
"So am I," you raised your eyebrows and sighed at him, "I won't do anything bad and I'd never put anyone else in danger. You know that."
"One more fuck up from you and you're done," his voice was low and dangerous and you pulled back slightly, "I mean it. Just because you think you're so cute and charming doesn't mean I can't see right through you."
"Miguel," you looked at him with wide eyes, "I don't think I'm cute - I know I'm cute. But not as cute as you, handsome. Now if you'll excuse me, I've gotta go and make a few suit adjustments."
"This isn't over!" His cheeks darkened as he watched you walk away.
"I'd be disappointed if it was," you gave him a small salute, "see ya, Miguelito!"
He let out a sigh of exasperation as you walked away. It was definitely a challenge not to stare at your ass but he was just a man after all. So he definitely stared at your ass.
"Stop staring," Peter popped up behind him, causing Miguel to flinch, "just tell her you're in love!"
"I'm not…" he pinched the bridge of his nose, "I'm not in love with her and I'm not doing this with you right. Get back to work, Parker."
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
It had been a few days since what you had decided to dub the incident had occurred. You'd more or less ignored Miguel, deciding to let him cool down on his own terms. You missed getting to give him a hard time and missed getting to tease him as you loved.
The thing was, you didn’t hate Miguel. It was…quite the contrary in fact. Over the last year that you’d been working for the man, or on his silly little team as you liked to tease him, you’d found yourself getting more and more attached to him. You really liked him and you weren’t shy about letting him know. You thought you were being obvious, but apparently you weren’t obvious at all because he didn’t seem to get it. Or, if he did, he really wasn’t interested and chose not to acknowledge your moves. It was Miguel though, and you were sure he would have just told you…but then again, would he have? Maybe he was just a simple-”
“What’s wrong, princess?” you started at the sound of his low, gruff voice. You hadn’t heard him sneak up and his sudden appearance almost scared you off your chair. Clutching at your heart, you looked over to see Miguel leaning against the edge of your desk, a lazy smile on his face. You were stunned by both his appearance and his casual display of affection, and could only manage to open and close your mouth a few times, “cat got your tongue?”
“Miguel?” you looked at him with wide eyes, “w-what are you doing…here?”
“Just wanted to come and see my favorite girl,” okay, there was definitely something going on. You highly doubted you were his favorite girl (that was probably Jessica or Mayday), let alone his favorite anything, “I have something for you.”
“For me?” your mouth ran dry as he nodded. Was he flirting with you? Surely he couldn’t be, “what would that be?”
“Here,” he reached behind his back and pulled out what looked like your suit…only this was slightly different. He placed it on the desk in front of you before moving to stand behind you. His larger frame easily dwarfed yours, and that was something you tried to push out of your mind. You looked over the suit, trailing your fingers over the soft fabric, “I made some adjustments to it. I think you’ll find it easier to access web fluid and its got better repair tech. Something new Parker was working on.”
You let out a small breath of amazement; this was an incredibly kind gesture from anyone, spider-people did happen to be generous for the most part, but this was next level. You re-familiarized yourself with the pink, blue, and purple fabric. A smile crossed your features as you turned your head to look at him. You found him watching you intently, “thank you, Miguel. This is…amazing.”
“You’re welcome,” his voice was near your ear, causing goosebumps to erupt all over your skin, “maybe it’ll help you to listen next time, hmm?”
“Miguel,” you turned in your seat and found yourself face to face with him, noses almost brushing. Whatever you were about to say quickly left your mind as you looked into his pretty brown eyes. A sharp inhale escaped your lips and you noticed the smile on his face grow larger, “I, ugh…I…”
“Hmm?’ it was a small sound of the back of his throat as he regarded you. He reached up and touched your face, brushing his thumb over your cheek, “what’s up?”
“I umm,” you stammered nervously, trying to ignore the feeling of his skin on yours, “I gotta go. I-I think Peter needed me for something.”
“He’s out on assignment right now.”
“Mayday then,” you volunteered slinking out from under his arm and grabbing the new suit, You felt your entire face warmed up as he started to chuckle, “Mayday needs me-”
“She’s a baby!”
“And I love her,” you squeaked, “so I gotta help her!”
You took off before he could say anything else or fluster you even more. Something had gotten into Miguel O’Hara and you weren’t sure you could handle it. You weren’t sure you’d survive the man you’d longed after for so long returning those very same feelings.
Well. This was going to get interesting.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
You came to the decision, made after much contemplation and tossing and turning at night, that you were going to ignore Miguel. Not ignore completely but ignore his advances. If he did happen to flirt with you again, you weren't going to say or do anything. Not that you expected them…but, you know, just in case it happened.
When you got to the headquarters the next day, you kept to yourself, taking your coffee and making your way to your little assigned corner and refusing to make eye contact with anyone. Maybe if no one saw you, you could get away with being practically invisible.
But the universe wouldn't have it, of course it wouldn't.
"Hello there," his voice was sticky sweet like toffee and that didn't land well with you. Rather it did land well in the sense that it shouldn't have made you feel the rush you were currently experiencing, "you look pretty today."
"I, ugh," you looked down at your outfit and shrugged helplessly. You were dressed simply in a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and sandals; nothing that you would consider exceptional, "umm…thanks?"
"What's wrong?" He knew exactly what was wrong, the bastard. He could probably hear the erratic and wild beating of your heart, "you seem…nervous."
"N-no," you shook your eyes but your wide eyes and pretty pout were anything but convincing, "just…tired?"
"Are you sure about that?"
"No," you answered. You could have beaten around the bush all you wanted, but you knew that he wasn't going to give up. That wasn't Miguel at all. The best option - the only really - was to just come out and tell him the truth. Once it was all out, the chips would fall where they may, "why are you suddenly flirting with me? W-wait, are you flirting with me?”
“I am,” he admitted this so easily that it caught you off guard. You knew he wasn’t one to lie per se, but you didn’t expect him to just outright admit it. Confusion colored your features as you tried to get your mind to function again, “I am…flirting with you.”
“Oh,” you nodded and turned back to your computer screen before it all set in, “oh?”
“Oh,” he teased, reaching forward to brush some of your rogue locks of hair behind your ear.
“Why?” you reached up and wrapped your fingers around his wrist, gently pulling his hand away, “is it because I’ve been flirting with you?”
“It’s one of the reasons…among others,” alright. Now you were curious, even more than before, as to where this was going, “is that a problem for you?”
Nope. No. Nah. Not. At. All.
“Ummm…” you felt ditzy and dazy as you looked over at the handsome man. He really had you thrown for a loop, “I just…if I made you feel uncomfortable with it, I’m sorry. I never meant it to be mean or anything. I just…meant it.”
“Meant it?” he parroted as you swallowed thickly, “you meant it all those times you were flirting with me?”
“Y-yes,” your confession was soft and gentle as Miguel practically preened under your words. He wasn’t sure what answer he had been expecting, but somehow it wasn’t this one. He hadn’t flattered him with the idea that you would seriously like him, “I did - I do, Miguel.”
“Hmm,” he mused softly as you blinked at him with wide eyes, “do you want to know something?”
“Y-yes? Yes,” you nodded, tummy fluttering with butterflies and heart pitter-patter rapidly.
“When I’ve been flirting with you,” he leaned down so he was almost face level with you, “I’ve meant it too, princess.”
“No way,” disbelief flooded your veins as the first conclusion you came to was that he was lying. Perhaps this was all to get back for going against his direct orders during your last mission. That must have been the reason, right? You leaned away from him and almost slid off your chair as you rolled back to create a bit of distance between your bodies, “y-you’re lying. You have to be…”
“I’m not lying to you,” this time he was in disbelief. He’d never once lied to you…why would he start now?
“You have to be,” you sounded so pathetic as you grabbed your stuff and almost ran away, “you can’t like me like that!”
“Why not?!”
“I dunno, you just can’t!” you almost ran into Peter as you tried to get away, “sorry!”
Peter was dumbfounded as he looked between your quickly disappearing figure and Miguel, “what happened now?”
“I wish I knew,” Miguel exhaled heavily as he pinched the bridge of his nose, “fuck.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
You kept your distance from HQ for a couple of days after your embarrassing outburst. You had replayed that very moment over and over in your head, trying to see it from all different angles.
The only conclusion you kept coming to was that he was telling the truth. And that reality was hard to come to terms with at first…but then it was blissfully exciting. Miguel liked you! But then it was more like Miguel liked you…holy shit.
But then you decided that more than anything, you needed to know the truth.
You practically ran over to his office, causing the curious glances of other spider-people to follow you. You could hear their hushed murmurs, but didn’t stop to address them. News traveled fast around this place and you had no doubt that as soon as whatever happened between the two of you, the news would spread like wildfire.
“Miguel!” you didn’t even bother to knock and announce your presence, bursting into his office without ceremony. He turned around to face you, a few different expressions crossing his features before settling on surprise, “I…”
“Yes?” suddenly every single coherent thought escaped your mind as you stared at him. He cocked his head to the side and looked at you expectantly.
“Did you mean it?” you whispered, taking a step closer to him, “the other day when you said you flirted with me because you meant it. Did you mean it?”
“Yes,” he promised, closing the gap even more, “of course I did. I wouldn’t lie to you.”
“Me neither,” you insisted, catching yourself, “lie to you, I mean. So…”
“So we’re on the same page now?”
“I think so,” you smiled hesitantly at him, and the two of you locked eyes for a few moments.
Before you could stop yourself, you closed the little bit of distance remaining between your bodies before practically jumping into his arms. Almost as if he had known what you were thinking, he effortlessly caught you, wrapping his strong arms around you. You beamed at him, melting as you watched him practically glow at you.
“I want to kiss you,” you touched his face, and he practically leaned into your touch, “may I?”
“You may-” you prevented him from saying anything else as you crashed your lips onto his, kissing him with a fierce determination and eagerness.
Neither of you dared to pull back until you were both breathless, looking at each other through hazy eyes and soft smiles. He gently set you back on the ground and you stared up at him.
“Do you want some more honesty?” he asked gently, stealing a few more kisses, which you eagerly gave him.
“Of course.”
“I plan on doing that a lot more,” and yeah…that made you practically jump his bones then and there, “if you’re down for it.”
“Yes,” that came without hesitation, “I definitely am.”
“Better close the door then,” you did as you asked, looking at him with round, eager eyes, “you know how nosey they can be.”
“The nosiest…”
“Now, c’mere,” he held his hand out to you, “and let me prove I wasn’t lying to you.”
“Yes, please.”
#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara x fem!reader#miguel o'hara x you#miguel o'hara imagine#miguel o'hara one shot#oscar isaac#spiderman 2099#atsv#spider-man
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Hi there! I would like a request a OS about Peter B Parker x Fem! Reader as a married couple Smut (Reader is Mayday's mother). The Reader is like Starfire (An alien superheroine and a beautiful hot like fire (literally, since her powers comes from the sun) person married to a human) Like Malewife and Girlboss...So when Peter comes home, she's taking care of her daughter meanwhile he was on patrol, so she put her daughter on bed time. She wants to have a night of "fun" with her husband. Taking good care of him with a bath and a dinner so then the "fun" can come. With a purple robe and a sexy lavender lingerie. I can leave the smut part to you with some recommendations Lactation Kink, Praise kink, "Mommy" kink, Oral (Female and male receiving), Creampie, maybe 69 position...
Take good care 🥰
Early Nights Off;;
A/N: Dude, I am literally blowing you kisses and hugging you platonically through my laptop rn. I was smiling and kicking my feet when I saw that you nearly instantly sent me a request for Peter. I am so in love with him, I love my silly goofy DILFs hehe. I have never written for a lactation kink before so I will not be doing that as I do not know how and Idk how comfortable I am with it LMAO I will try and interoperate the rest into this for you though. Thank you again, literally my savior for my brain rot rn. HE IS SO MALEWIFE THOUGH, YOU ARE SO REAL. I hope this is good enough, this is my first Peter fic haha.
Warnings: Breeding Kink (I just know he has one after Mayday.), Praise Kink, "Mommy" Kink sort of?, Oral (F and M Receiving), Creampie (Wrap it before you tap it guys), Reader is an alien (Not proofread, sorry lmao)
Any other day it would be easy for Peter to patrol the city all night. Even if the crime activity was little to nothing. He could spend all day and night swinging from building to building. It beat sitting at home with nothing to do.
Except now he had a reason to be home. Even before the two of you had Mayday, and it was just you. He found himself crawling through the window of your shared apartment earlier and earlier each night. You were his weakness, and he was never ashamed to admit it.
After you gave him his first kid though. There were some nights that he wouldn't go out at all. Too enraptured by baby Mayday to even think about leaving your cozy home. Playing with the baby. Watching you nurture and care for her. Being a dad was something he enjoyed a lot more than he ever thought he would. He had Miles to thank for breaking his fear of kids.
Tonight was one of his early nights. Calling it quits after all he found for crime activity was a man robbing a woman of her purse. Cliché and typical, but he put a stop to it nonetheless. Getting the woman's purse back while also tying the attacker up in front of the New York Police Department with a letter attached to him.
'Caught him robbing a lady, you're welcome. - Your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man.'
He wondered if they ever actually took in and charged the people he left on their doorstep like that. Or if they simply untied them and let them run because they had no proof they actually did anything wrong? That was a question for another time, though. Right now he was focused on opening the bedroom window. Crawling in and shutting it behind him to keep the muggy air outside from entering the room.
He was quick to take the suit off. Figuring he wouldn't need it for the rest of the night. Pulling a grey shirt on that hung on the side of the bed. Keeping only his boxers on to allow his body to cool down from the warmer conditions outside.
You were in the living room. Comfortable pajamas on while you lulled Mayday to sleep in your arms. A soft hum leaving your throat as you rocked her back and forth. He had to stop and watch for a while. Leaning against the door frame that led him from your shared room to the living room.
"You're back early," you cooed. At times he wished you didn't have the ability to sense him like he could you. It was nice sometimes, though. Not at times that he wanted to just sit and watch you mother his baby.
"I missed my beautiful girls," he murmured, that smug smile gracing his features. You were glad to have looked up and seen it.
"Well, I just fed her and got her to sleep." you informed, and he nodded. Licking his lips while his eyes raked over you. Practically undressing you and imagining all the things he could do to you right now. It had been so long since the two of you had any time to each other. That seemed to be one of the few, if not only down falls to being parents. Sex felt scarce, but that didn't mean it was totally absent from your lives.
"I think I might shower while you lay her down," he spoke, shifting his feet as he went to turn back for the bathroom down the hall. "Or I could run you a bath while I make you something to eat?" you offered and he just couldn't say no.
He smiled, nodding his head while staring you down. So much love and adoration was in his eyes. He was perfect. Mayday was perfect. You were perfect.
"What man could say no to that offer?" He snickered, to which you rolled your eyes. Smiling fondly at your husband while you stood to your feet. Kissing his cheek when you made it over to him. "I'll get that bath running then," you hummed. Heading for Maydays room to put her to bed. Shutting the door behind you before you scurried off for the bathroom. Swaying your hips a little more than normal since you knew he was staring.
He was, too. His eyes eating you up like candy while they took in your form. God, he could eat you alive.
The water was the perfect temperature. The soaps that you put in it had him melting into the atmosphere. Everything was perfect. He couldn't ask for anything better. When you came walking in with food, and that skimpy bathrobe that drove him crazy. He was certain you were praying on his downfall.
"You spoil me," he told you as he took a plate from your hand. Watching as you sat on the edge of the tub with your own plate in hand. The both of you eating together. Peter a little more eager than you. He loved his food.
"Only because you spoil me in return," you grinned. He raised a questioning brow. Taking a bite of the Mac and Cheese that you warmed up from the night before. "How? I don't make enough money to spoil you. You spoil me more that I do you, and it's a little unfair," he pouted a bit. He hated the fact that he couldn't spoil you like he wanted to, but you never seemed to mind. Everything was fine the way it was.
"You find your ways, Pete," you hummed as you put your plate on the sink counter. Climbing off the tub so you could kneel on the floor next to the tub. His eyes were glued to yours. A questioning glint to them that begged for you to explain further.
"You don't need money to spoil someone. You pamper me with little things. Like your affection and how romantic you can be," you smiled, because he truly was a sap. He loved spending nights cuddling with you. Kissing over your body while reminding you how beautiful you were. Praising you for carrying his baby. Your baby. Making dinner for you on the nights that you couldn't bring yourself to. Or simply taking you and Mayday to the park to get some ice-cream and be a family.
"If it weren't for you, I probably would have never had little Mayday, either," you admitted, and he raised a brow. "Really?" He questioned, and you nodded.
"I never really wanted kids. Not until we started dating. You made me realize that I don't need to be scared of that sort of commitment ever again. You gave me a beautiful daughter," he felt his heart racing at your words. "I never really wanted a kid before you, either. It scared me, being a superhero and all." You both chuckled at that. Staring at one another for a moment or two.
"I guess we both spoiled each other in that department," you told him, and he nodded. "Guess so."
When Peter and yourself finally finished eating, that's when you helped him wash his hair. Something that he was going to do himself, but when you offered to do so. He just laid back and let you.
Your fingers pulled through his hair. Nails scratching his scalp just right while you spread the shampoo. A soft moan leaving his lips while his eyes fell shut. It had you smiling to yourself. Biting your bottom lip to try and keep it from growing any wider.
You leaned in to press a kiss to his shoulder. Your hands trailing down his chest while you leaned in closer to his ear. Peter's eyes opening when he felt your breath on his ear. His eyes trailing down to your chest. Catching a glimpse of the lavender bra under your bathrobe. The thought of you in lingerie had him grunting. His cock twitching to life under the water. It had been too long since the two of you had done anything like this. Something that wasn't a quickie before he left for work after his lunch break, while Mayday was down for her afternoon nap.
"God, I love you so much," he muttered, and you giggled. Pressing a kiss to his temple. "Scoot down so I can wash your hair out, goofball," you teased, and he felt his heart thumping. "Yes Ma'am."
Once his hair was all washed it was time for him to call it a night. Eyes begging for you to take him to the bedroom so you could both fuck like rabbits. Before Mayday that's what it felt like you two were. Primal Animals that only knew how to fuck or make love. Whatever mood Peter was in that night deciphered how he screwed you.
Tonight he wanted to pamper you. To really spoil you since he knew you planned to do the same to him. Gosh, "I'd do anything to be between those thighs," He murmured out loud. A dumbstruck look on his face. He hadn't even noticed he said it out loud, and you knew it. A giggle escaping your lips while you leaned forward. Ghosting your lips over his. "Not if I'm between yours first," you cooed, and he shuddered.
His face was a slight red out of embarrassment. He hadn't meant to say that to you out loud, but it wouldn't be the first lewd thing he'd ever said to you. Peter was fairly good at telling you what he wanted and how he wanted to do it. The more lust filled he got, the less of a sensor he had.
It was like a race for the both of you. Peter standing from the tub while flicking the switch so the water would drain. Scrambling out of it while you laughed and giggled with him. The both of you doing your best to be quiet so Mayday wouldn't wake up.
You ran for the bedroom. Feet pattering against the wooden floor while he did the same. Shutting the door behind himself before he pulled you in for a kiss that he craved. One that you both craved, really.
"I know you're wearing it," he spoke against your lips. Pulling the string of your bath robe so it would fall open. He was quick to pull back so he could see your frame better. "You still like it?" You asked, and he was quick to nod. His fingers running up your sides to your breasts. Giving them both a light squeeze with a groan. "Baby, I never want you to take it off," he chuckled, and you both knew that was a lie. By the end of the night he'd have it ripped off you and in a pile on the floor.
His lips came in contact with your neck. Fiery touches that you would never get used to. Your own powers were controlled by the sun, yet this heat was always so unfamiliar to you. So nice.
"Peter," you sighed as he sucked on your skin. Your body jolting when his fingers pinched your nipples through your bra. "You're so gorgeous, you know that?" He asked against your skin. Licking over your collar bone. You chuckled with a nod, "You tell me all the time," "Yeah, well I don't say it damn near enough." You rolled your eyes at his comment, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair. "Yeah, and I don't tell you how good of a boy you are for me enough, either," he let out a grumble of a moan against your skin. It was so easy to rile him up, you loved it.
"May I?" You asked, ghosting your fingertips over his shaft, and he nodded. "Words, Peter," you demanded, and he shuddered. "Yes... Yeah, please," he mewled, and you snickered. He was already a mess.
You shrugged the robe off, allowing it to fall to the floor to give his hands more access to your skin. Your hand quick to reach between your lovers legs and grab him. Giving him a slow stroke before stopping to squeeze the base. His head fell onto your shoulder. A sigh leaving his lips while he gripped your hips.
"I need you," he called, "God, I need you so bad, don't tease me," he cried a little, and you had half a mind to listen, but you didn't want to. You had other plans for the night. You wanted to draw out this time you both had together for as long as you could.
"No," you purred, and the whine that he let out was heavenly. "Now, don't pout, Petey," you purred, "be a good boy for me and I'll reward you," he nodded frantically. He just wanted you to carry on and do something. Anything.
When you started to drop to your knees he felt his heart stutter in his chest. Everywhere your hands grazed as you slid down to the floor was on fire. At this point he couldn't tell if it was from his excitement, or if you were doing it yourself.
Your hand stroked his shaft a couple more times. Peter watching with excited eyes. His thighs shaking while he fought the urge to thrust forward.
"You can touch me, Peter," you told him, and he nodded. His shaky hands coming to tangle in your hair. One staying on the top of your head while the other came to cup the side of your face.
"Will you be good?" You asked, and he nodded. "I know you will," you hummed, kissing his hip. Listening to the moan that left his throat just from having your lips so close to where he wanted you the most. He craved you to the point that it hurt.
When you did finally reach his cock, the noise he made was unreal. Your eyes darting up to his with warning. One of his hands shot up to cover his mouth. A soft 'sorry, my love,' falling from his lips. He truly didn't mean to be as loud as he was. He could never help it. He prayed that one day the two of you could find a babysitter for Mayday so neither of you had to hold back as much as you both did.
Your head bobbed and he felt his knees shaking all ready. His brow knitting together while his chest began to heave. He couldn't take his eyes off of you. You were like an angel. On your knees, committing sin. The thought made him shudder. A hum rumbling from his chest while his head lolled to the side. "Feels so... Good," he purred, and you hummed in response. The vibration sending a wave of pleasure through his body. Both hands shooting to the top of your head so he could stable himself. His mouth slightly parted while his vision grew blurry from the tears that pricked the corners of his eyes.
"God, like that, shit," he spewed out words. You knew he was close, even if you couldn't sense it like he could sense your own approaching orgasms. You would know from how many times you've made him cum in your relationship.
You didn't allow him to, though. Another groan leaving his lips while he buckled forward. His hips thrusting forward a little in an attempt to chase your mouth. "Dammit, I was so close," he slurred, and you chuckled. Leaving an open mouthed kiss on the side of his cock. "I know, and you did so good for me baby," you purred, and he whined. He had such mixed feelings for your praising tease. He loved it, but he also despised it.
"How about I reward you now?" You asked, looking up to your lover with a grin. He was quick to nod in agreement. Licking his lips while he waited anxiously for what you had to say next.
"You wanna fill me up tonight?" "You have no idea," he practically growled. The sound of his voice. The switch from whiny to damn near feral. It went straight to your core. Your breath hitching as he helped pull you to your feet. Pushing you back until you were on the bed.
He fell on top of you. Caging your body with his own. Something seemed to snap in his eyes and it excited you more than taking control over him. It wasn't often that you let him be in complete control, but right now. All you could think of is what he had said in the tub.
"You still want your head between my thighs?" You asked, and his eyes were quick to meet yours again. A smirk pulling at his lips while he stared down at you. "I'd live there if I could, baby," you both chuckled a little at this, but you both knew it was true, too. There were some mornings that you'd wake up to his head between your thighs. Eating you like you were his last meal on earth. He'd just give you head if you'd let him. He never really expected anything in return from you.
He lips crashed down onto yours. A kiss that had you both gasping for air when he was done. Teeth on teeth that led to his tongue exploring your mouth.
His hands were on their own mission. Scaling your body. Taking in every dip and curve that you had. Memorizing you like he did every other time he touched you. If he didn't have any other responsibilities, he could stay in this position with you forever. Touching your body while kissing you with fervor.
One of his hands cupped your breast. The other resting on your thigh. His lips finally parting from yours with a string of saliva still connecting you both. A smug and dreamy smile on his face. "I love you," he hummed, and you giggled. "I love you, too," you told him, and his smile grew. He couldn't believe how lucky he was to have you.
His lips trailed over the top of your breasts. Kissing and sucking. Leaving little marks on the soft skin. His hand on your thigh sliding up your body so he could take both of your breasts in his hands. Squeezing and toying with your sensitive mounds of flesh. Your back arching with soft noises that left your throat. Every sound that you made only fed his ego more than it did before.
His mouth replaced one of his hands. Mouthing over the thin fabric that his your nipples from the air. Saliva wetting your skin through the fabric. A sharp inhale coming from you when he nipped your sensitive skin. Your fingers gripping his shoulders while he teased your body. He knew what drove you crazy. Just like you knew what drove him crazy.
His free hand trailed down to your panties. His hand cupping your sex with a moan. He could feel how hot you were down there and it drove him wild. His middle and index finger running over your mound. Feeling how wet you were through the fabric of the lingerie. It was intoxicating him. Just as much as his touch was intoxicating you.
His mouth switched over to your other breast. Biting the flesh while he pushed your panties to the side to slip his middle finger inside of you. A gasp leaving your throat while you tugged at his hair. "Pete!" you snapped, and he grunted, "'M sorry, you're just so good," he moaned against your skin. His now free hand reaching behind you to undo the bra that kept him from your bare skin. Gibing him the chance to abuse your nipples without the fabric in the way. Though, it didn't last long before his mouth was trailing down your stomach. Leaving wet kisses on his way down.
Once he met your clothed sex with his face he felt himself growing impatient. Nudging your clothed clit with his nose. "You're so pretty like this," he sounded drunk. He practically was. Anytime he had sex he was. He was intoxicated by you. You were his perfect drug.
His fingers hooked your underwear. Pulling them down your legs and tossing them to the side. Peter blew on your sex. Keeping your legs apart with his strong grip. "Stay still for me, please," he asked, looking up with pleading eyes. Though there was a hint of command behind them that had you clenching around nothing. You only nodded your head in agreement, which had him smiling.
He was quick to get to work. Licking up your slit. Your breath hitching while your fingers tangled in his hair. His hips bucking down into the bed to try and gather some sort of friction for himself.
He licked at your sensitive bud. Licking and sucking until you were squirming and on the verge of tears. Biting the back of your hand to hold back the cries that tried to bleed from your mouth.
"Taste so good," he rambled. Reaching a hand down to push two fingers inside you. Curling them up, then dragging them out. Slipping the digits past his lips to take a taste. Moaning around his fingers before slipping them out. "Heavenly," he sighed, before diving in once again. Lapping you up like a dog.
It wasn't long before you were summing on his tongue. You told him you were close, but he knew. Only abusing your clit until you were convulsing underneath him. If it weren't for you pushing his head away, he would have made you cum again, too.
"Peter, please," you cried, and he looked up from between your legs. "Just one more time," he tried to plea. Leaning down to lick your clit again. Your body jolting at the overstimulating feeling. "Peter, if you aren't inside me in the next ten seconds I swear to God," you snapped, and he smirked. "All right, all right," he chuckled, kissing your stomach before pulling himself up so he was positioned between your thighs.
He moved above you for a moment or two. Just staring down at you with those adoring eyes. You hated how he looked at you sometimes. It made your heart ache and wish that you had met him sooner than you had. He always made you feel so special and so loved.
"I want another kid," he blurted, "Maybe a little boy, he could have your eyes," he daydreamed out loud, and you nearly laughed. Yet, you couldn't. You only stared back up at him. Hearts practically in your eyes while you reached up to cup the sides of his face. "Only if he has your smile," he chuckled at your words. Leaning down to nuzzle your nose with his. "Is that a yes to baby number two?" He snickered, reaching down to rub your stomach. He was obsessed with you, and he couldn't get over the thought of you carrying another one of his kids. He was already crazy for you, but seeing you pregnant with his child? It did things to him, and you knew it, too. He wasn't shy about it.
"You like being a mommy?" He hummed, and you nodded, "Only for you," you chuckled, and he snickered. "You're a good one too. So loving, caring, rewarding," he winked with the last word, and you rolled your eyes. Swatting his chest. "Peter," he shrugged. "You are, I'm glad you are, too. Mommy. It's a good title for you," He cooed, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips.
"Peter, it's been over ten seconds," you reminded him, wrapping your legs around his waist. Bringing your hips up to meet his. The both of you shuddering at the friction. "All right," he sighed out, but instead of pressing himself inside of you like you wanted. He pulled away from you. A frown settling on your lips. "What?" "Hands and knees, now," you stared for a second. It never ceased to surprise you when he ordered you around, but you never really complained about it either.
Once you were maneuvered around he was quick to pull you closer to him by your hips. Leaning down to kiss the dip of your back. "Gonna fill you full," he murmured against your skin, rubbing the tip of his dick along the slit of your sex.
"Shit, Peter," you wined, leaning down to lay the side of your face on the bed. Peter let out a moan at the position you put yourself in. Ass in the air, face in the sheets. You were gorgeous.
He hushed you, biting his lip while putting his fingers against your lips. You sucked them into your mouth and he swore it was one of the hottest things you've done.
When he pressed inside of you, you both fought to stay quiet. Peter was practically falling apart above you. The thought of fucking a baby into you had him harder than he had expected. His hips giving a few testing rolls to make sure you were wet enough. Only moving when you gave a nod.
His thrusts were slow at first. Rolling against you with rhythm. Until they weren't. Until you begged him to move fasted and he had to listen to you.
Both of his hands were on your hips now. His own hips thrusting in and out of you at a past that had your whole body trembling. You pawed and gripped at the sheets. One of his hands keeping hold of your hip while the other reached for one of your hands. Intertwining his fingers with your own. Even while he was fucking you dumb he showed so much affection for you. It was almost overwhelming.
Peter leant over you. Pressing a kiss to your shoulder blade while he panted and moaned in your ear. The sound of skin on skin echoing in the room. The faster he got the further you got smothered into the bed. He was chasing that high that the both of you craved. When he felt his approaching, he was quick to reach between your thighs to rub your clit with the speed of his thrusts. Bringing the both of you to the highs that you desired. His hips slowing while he rolled out his orgasm and rubbed out your own.
Peter lay limp above you. His chest heaving on top of your back. One hand running up and down your side while the other squeezed and rubbed at your hand.
"One more?" He asked, and you chuckled. "Your libido's too high for your own good, Peter," you sighed, and he chuckled. Pulling out of you which caused the both of you to groan with distaste. "I'm not hearing a no?" He questioned with a brow raised. Helping you roll onto your back. "One more," you told him with a nod, and he grinned. "Maybe two?" "Pete, don't push it," you giggled, reaching out to wrap your arms around his neck. Peter laughing into the kiss he gave you.
#peter b parker x reader#peter b parker#peter b parker smut#spiderman#the amazing spiderman smut#the amazing spider man#across the spiderverse#into the spider verse#marvel#marvel smut#minors dni#notsfw
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sweet dreams.
synopsis : it was yet another sleepless night for you— peter, of course, wasn't going to allow that.
pairing : bf!peter parker x reader
wc : 502
warnings : nothing worth warning <3 unless you’re against tooth rotting fluff !!!!! it’s all FLUFF FLUFF FLUFFF !! a comfort fic for my night owls out there who refuse to sleep (mutuals… go to bed)
୨ masterlist | request | navigation ୧
a/n : hi ! sooo this is a rewrite of an old one, i feel like this is an improvement so i’m pretty proud of that !!! <3 hope you guys enjoy this lil fic, it’ll bring you sm joy, i promise !!!! comments, asks, reblogs, are greatly all appreciated :)
brring! brring! brring!
a smile forms on your face as you look at your phone to see the caller id: ‘lovebug’ alongside a plethora of heart emojis. you always loved hearing from him, no matter the context, and of course you would never complain. only question was, why exactly was he calling you at 3 a.m. in the morning?
“pete?” you answer, turning on your camera. your hair is an absolute mess, but you hardly care at this point. besides, it was peter you were talking to, he thought you were beautiful no matter how you looked.
“hi gorgeous.” just as expected. he’s predictable like that.
“my hair’s a mess, pete.” you chuckle, trying to fix it as much as you possibly could.
“i think it makes you look cute.” he’s grinning sweetly, only to see you roll your eyes in response.
“whaaaat? it’s true!”
“yeah, right.” you respond, the sarcasm clear in your voice.
“i’m serious.” his tone deepens, though it’s paired with an odd look— one that you assume was supposed to be an intimidating scowl, but it just made him look utterly adorable.
“you’re the cute one.” his grin only widens at your compliment.
“thanks, but i already know that.” he flips his (imaginary) hair, making you giggle. he can’t help but do the same once he hears you.
“anyways, why’d you call?” you ask.
“well, i swung past your window on the way home from patrol and i noticed that you weren’t asleep yet,” he pouts. oh. “i wanted to tell you to go to bed, you know you need it.”
“technically, i’m already in bed,” you quip, lying down to prove a point. he could only roll his eyes in response.
“i meant sleep, missy.” his voice was slightly stern, mimicking a mother’s voice.
“no, thank you.” you grin cheekily, though you talk in the same tone as he did, he sighs in disappointment.
“please!” he’s pleading now, using your known weakness, his ‘puppy eyes’. clearly, that wasn’t fair.
“i’m busy though!” no you weren’t, you were simply watching tv all night, or at least you were planning to.
“lovie, you’ve gotta get your beauty sleep.” he’s serious this time. you just looked at him and pouted, you did not want to sleep, despite the fact that your eyelids were beginning to feel heavier by the second.
“hm, okay, i’ll make you a deal.” that piqued your interest.
“okay, tell me.” you lean closer to your phone, peter notices that he’s got your full attention.
“maybe i could swing over for a sleepover?” he suggests, the smile on his face never leaving, “we could cuddle? i know you love those.” that was a well known fact between the two of you, it was also peter’s way to get you to fall asleep, a method that never fails.
“hm,” you mulled over the offer, but peter knew what you’d say, “okay, deal.” you say dryly in an attempt to mask your excitement.
“alright, beautiful, be there in ten.”
a/n : hope you loved it <3 thank you for reading !!! please leave feedback, comments, and reblogs 🥰
taglist : (okay so, i’m tagging my old taglist in hopes to see if you’re still interested ! i was previously @/darling-im-moonstruck so yeah !) @cagethemunson, @tfatwsparker, @jaydannyyy, @hallecarey1, @live-laugh-lovejoy, @parkerpeter24, @saturnpeter, @poemsforparker, @hllandvibbes, @herpeanutzombie
#— zuri writes … ֢ ׄ 🖋 ⃞ ִ ׄ ۪#peter parker#peter parker x y/n#mcu!peter x reader#peter parker fluff#peter parker imagine#tom!peter parker x reader#tom!spiderman#peter parker x reader#peter x reader#peter parker x you#peter parker fanfiction#spiderman#spider-man#spiderman x reader#peter parker smut#peter parker blurb#peter parker oneshot#peter parker fic#tom holland#tom holland x reader#tom holland smut#tom holland peter parker#peter parker angst#peter parker writing#college peter parker#mcu peter parker#tasm!spiderman x reader#tasm!peter fluff#tasm!peter x you
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hiii can you make something inspired by the video of tom protecting zendaya from the paparazzi
Worthy- Peter Parker
A/n: Peter being protective, ugh (give it to meeeeee). Btw, thank you for the request babe 🥰
Warnings: Mentions of death, swearing, mentions of vomit, anxiety attack symptoms and aggressive approach
Don’t forget to share, like, comment and leave your ideas here
Bellah’s Masterlist 🪻
It was no surprise to anyone that Peter Parker was dating Tony Stark's daughter, but it was the first time they had appeared publicly at an event together. After some catastrophes caused by the Avengers after their last mission in Berlin, in order to redeem the act of motivating violence towards young people, Stark decided to hold an event to fund social support groups.
Y/n was used to having the eyes of the media, mainly because of her beauty, but Peter hated the media. As well as distorting many of Spider-Man's actions, calling him irresponsible and selfish, there would always be people who would point out the slightest of his mistakes in order to get 'likes'. The girl, on the other hand, had several controversies involving her name, but she never let that get to her. Her father had taught her to always ignore people who spoke badly and pointed out mistakes, because if they were strong enough, they would talk in person rather than hide behind a screen in a dark room with a deplorable life.
“Aren't you nervous?” Peter asks, finishing lacing up his black shoes.
“No. I just didn't want anyone coming up to me asking me about my sexuality again because I said in an interview that I'd kiss Madison Beer.” Y/n says, looking at herself in the mirror as she finishes fixing the pair of earrings on her ear.
“What if they ask me something? What do I say?” The brunette gets up from the cream recliner at the end of the king-size bed in his girlfriend's room, heading towards her.
“Just be yourself, love.” The girl turns to her boyfriend, who places his warm hands on her waist, pulling her close in one smooth movement. The girl opens an affectionate smile, allowing her pink lips to meet Peter's. “And don't get involved in any controversy. It's not enough that people suspect you of being Spider-Man. My father will kill you if anything happens, especially during the party.”
“You look beautiful, you know that?” The older man commented, looking at the girl from head to toe with a sideways smile. The dress was tailored, with long sleeves that were almost transparent and her body shaped by the wine velvet until it dragged on the floor with a small neckline, but one that emphasized her breasts.
“I know it.” Y/n laughs, making Peter roll his eyes and walk away.
Two knocks on the white door are heard, drawing the attention of the young couple who head towards where the sound was coming from, then open the door. The image of Pepper in a black dress comes into view, apparently impatient with how long they were taking in the room. The blonde put both hands on her waist, saying:
“Really? 10 minutes to put on an earring and get your bag, Y/n?”
“We're ready.” Peter defends. “Come on, sweetheart.” The dark-haired man in the black suit and gray tie holds out his hand to the younger woman.
“But my bag.” Y/n turns her body to the side, looking out of the corner of her eye for her bag, which had mysteriously disappeared.
“This one?” Peter holds out his other hand with the handle of the white bag positioned on the tip of his index finger, drawing a surprised smile from the girl.
“Come on, you two.” Pepper warns, stepping into the middle of the couple and closing the door behind them.
(…)
“How many minutes until we arrive?” Y/n asks the driver, at the same time as his eyes are focused on his cell phone camera so that his gloss doesn't get smudged in the photos that will be taken later.
“Less than 5” he replies, looking at her through the rearview mirror.
“Do you want me to go out holding your hand or do we go out one at a time?” The brunette asks, swinging his legs as a way of relieving the anxiety trapped in his chest.
“Relax, Pete. Let me go out alone first. I know some of my followers will want to take pictures with me since I told them I'd be at the event.” Y/n says, closing the transparent gloss and putting it in her handbag. “I don't want the same thing to happen that happened in January.”
“You turned down photos because you had a viral infection and put your organs out in the back of the car in that KFC bowl” Peter reminds her, placing one of his free hands on the girl's back.
“And they still called me an unsympathetic diva,” Y/n mentions, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes to catalyze the feeling of discontent after remembering the hate the media threw at her.
“We're here, Miss Stark,” the driver warns, opening the automatic door and showing the group of fans and paparazzi who were waiting for the couple at the entrance to the event.
Peter got out of the vehicle, being called by several people and blinded by the flashes of the paparazzi who insisted on putting their cameras in his face. The men with their caps back and big cameras asked
“Are you really Spider-Man?”
“Does Stark approve of your relationship even though you're poor?”
“Is it true that Stark Enterprises is related to the death of your parents?”
Peter clenches his jaw, takes a deep breath to himself, and walks past the men with his face closed as he hears these questions. Y/n, on the other hand, got out of the car with a smile on her face like a princess. The girl put her hair back and got out of the car without the protection of the security guards who were at the door of the event. The group of followers who were waiting at the railing to take a picture with the youngest girl held out their cell phones so that she could take a picture with them. Y/n waved to the fans who were a little further back, allowing them to be noticed too. The girl took the cell phones, snapped the photos and thanked them with a smile, and this was the key to the paparazzi taking advantage of the situation to punch her with questions and photos that were too close.
“Are you dating Peter Parker out of pity?” One of the men asks.
“I'm not,” she replies, as she takes pictures with the people clinging to the low railing.
Peter stands in the doorway, watching from afar how his girlfriend will react. Thanks to his powers, he could hear Y/n's heart and sense when she was threatening to have an anxiety attack. Her mouth might lie with a smile, but her eyes would never lie about her being. The brunette turned on his heel as soon as he heard the first question, turning back the way he had come.
“Do you regret realizing that what happened in Berlin wasn't deliberate? The damage was done by your father's group. People died.” Another says.
The group of photographers was getting too close.
“I have no regrets. That's why my father is promoting the event. To help those who are hurt.” She replies, finishing taking the last photo.
As soon as she lowers her head so that she can go to meet Peter, she is cornered. Several white lights take over her vision, and she finds herself dazed by so much movement. Her frightened eyes searched for Peter, but she couldn't find him. Everything around her was getting too hot from the sweaty bodies that were increasingly trying to get in touch with the girl in the red dress.
“Your father killed innocent people.”
“We already knew she'd be just like her selfish father. She's just a good girl in disguise.”
“Did you cheat on your boyfriend with actor Drew Starkey at your best friend's party in Los Angeles last month?”
“She looks like she'd do that.”
Peter stepped into the middle of the paparazzi, pushing them hard with the sides of his body, throwing his cameras to the ground every time he saw one of them being placed in his girlfriend's face. The older man seemed to have fire in his eyes, even capable of burning someone with his fury. The girl's heart was racing, and then a strong hand found her, pulling her close and taking away the whirlwind of questions and comments spewed at her. Her chest was heaving, feeling her lungs regain air, and pressing her hands against her chest. Peter hugged her close, running his hands down her back and directing her towards the door of the event decorated with gold, white and red balloons
“She always does that. Leaves when she can't answer something we ask. Classic spoiled bitch.” One of the men picks up his camera from the floor, wiping the lens on his gray blouse.
At one moment, Y/n was standing next to Peter, and the other she was being abandoned again at the door of the large party building. With strong, hurried steps, Peter spins his body around to throw a powerful punch at the man who made the comment, causing him to fall against the other gossip channels who were on duty at the scene to capture any slip-ups. The photographer grumbled, putting his hand to his lip and realizing that blood was coming out. With a startled look on his face, he glares at the brunette
“Call my girlfriend a bitch one more time, and I'll make you swallow your fucking tongue.” He says through his teeth, stepping out of the crowd again and into the building with hurried steps.
Y/n had her hands over her mouth, stunned by what Peter had just done. Her heels tapped against the lobby floor as her boyfriend patted her shoulder, trying to comfort her from what she had just been through. Parker was followed by two security guards, who, only after seeing the situation, decided to protect Y/n.
“You irresponsible bastards. Stark will find out about this.” Peter says loudly to the two men in black, who were now following them to the elevator.
“My father!” Y/n says in astonishment. “Peter, my father's going to find out about the punch you threw at the guy outside! Fuck, we're fucked. He's going to kill you. Shit.”
“Don't worry, darling. Anything to protect you is worthy.” The brunette pressed the elevator's ‘up’ button, hugging his girlfriend tighter against his chest.
#tom holland#tom holland x fem#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker x fem!reader#peter parker#peter parker spiderman#peter parker x y/n#peter parker x reader#peter parker x you
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y/n
liked by masonmount, freyaaaaxo, declanrice and others
y/n George’s first Easter 🪺 I fear I’m turning into one one those mum’s but I don’t even care at this point 🩷
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masonmount if by one of those mums you mean the best mummy in the world then yes you are 😘 thank you for all you do for me George and Parker, I know they had the best day 🩷
y/n my three favourite boys 🥰 I’m so lucky to have you, my perfect partner in crime 🩷
freyaaaaxo I miss my little chunk 😩 can’t wait to see you guys soon
y/n George misses his auntie Frey 😘
woody_ Parker on baby sitting duties I see
masonmount does a better job than you
y/n I mean he’s not wrong
declanrice happy Easter little man ❤️ looks like the egg hunt tired Mason out 🤣
y/n Are we surprised 🙄
masonmount Hey I put a lot of effort in
benchilwell sorry where was my invite?
y/n must have got lots in the post soz
lukeshaw23 was a utd only party so you didn’t qualify
sophiaaemeila the most beautiful family I can’t 😭 we miss you guys so much 🤍
y/n we miss youuuu, we’ll have to reunite the boys soon I know Mase misses Kai
masonmount I really do bro
kaihavertz29 😘
manchesterunited George looks like he’s having the best time! happy Easter to the Mounts ❤️
y/n thanks guys! ❤️
Lew.mount hope you’re ready for round two when we turn up ❤️😂
y/n of course, and I’ve given Mason a talking too so he doesn’t cheat 🙃
masonmount stop bullying me
#mason mount#mason mount fan fic#mason mount one shot#mason mount fanfic#mason mount fluff#mason mount blurb#mason mount instagram au#a mountain to climb series#mason mount x reader#mason mount x y/n#footballer x reader#footballer x y/n#footballer imagines#footballer imagine#footballer fan fiction
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✮ 𝐰𝐡𝐨'𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐝𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐚𝐦?, zegras' have more fun
♡ ─ summary | stass' new photo dump on instagram (plus imsg drama??)
♡ ─ warnings | nothing just some cussing, jack being a flirt and lukey being a simp LMAO
♡ ─ taglist | link to my taglist!
♡ ─ ev's notes | oooooo more drama???? again, PLSSSS SEND IN SOME THOUGHTS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BEGGING ON MY HANDS AND KNEES PLEASE.
back to navigation back to AU masterlist
stasszegras ann arbor, michigan
Liked by trevorzegras, briesbagels, jackhughes and 10,013 more
stasszegras | live laugh love barcelona (sry jude bellingham) tagged: briesbagels, friend1, pchandler68, chloegrace333 octber 12th, 2022
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briesbagels | is this a soft launch parker??
↳ pchandler98 no it is not.
↳ chloegrace333 oh okay...
↳ trevorzegras bro has absolutely 0 game HELP
↳ stasszegras why is bro copying me?? since when do u say HELP
↳ pchandler68 shut up trevor
umichwsoccer | thats our girl🫡
↳ stasszegras 😤
nolan_moyle | future manager supports barcelona!!!!!!!! (whatever the hell that means)
↳ stasszegras ur funny but no, also barcelona is a club
↳ nolan_moyle wdym club
↳ trevorzegras bros gotten hit too many times in the head by a puck
↳ stasszegras this is why im not managering the hockey team
jackhughes | whos jude bellingham??? why are you sorry????
↳ stasszegras sigh...
↳ trevorzegras its her husband... duh
↳ jackhughes UR MARRIED???
↳ briesbagels 🥴🥴
fan01 | can anyone tell me if jack and her are actually dating?
↳ fan02 i think everyone is just being weird af they're just friends
↳ fan03 i personally think shes dating luke cus it makes more sense
↳ fan01 help she wants the entire family
↳ fan02 can u blame her?????? 🤭🤭
lhughes_06 | photo creds for the last pic🤑
↳ pchandler68 BRUHHHHHHHHHH
↳ lhughes_06 its the rizzler guys 😌
↳ stasszegras FUCK NO HES NOT....... HES 5'8???
↳ jackhughes i'm 5'11 if that helps 🥰
↳ trevorzegras hey what does rizz have to do with height??? umm... 🥸
↳ lhughes_06 im 6'3 if that helps 😮💨😮💨
↳ stasszegras ... 🥰🥰 oh nothing, trev!!!
↳ briesbagels help 😶😶
↳ jackhughes ???????
avazegras | okay miss heartbreaker 😮💨😮💨 i see u
↳ trevorzegras hey whats that supposed to mean??
↳ griffinzegras hey i hold the title of heartbreaker of the family.... so this is kinda awkward...
↳ stasszegras STFU AVA UR NOT HELPING AT ALL😭😭😭
↳ trevorzegras did i miss a chapter???????
↳ lhughes_06 yea u did [deleted]
↳ griffinzegras ... damn 💀💀💀
iMessages
mini z ✊🏼💅🏻
hi soo why did u comment and then delete that???
luke 🥸🥸
wdym????
mini z ✊🏼💅🏻
luke u know what i mean, i saw the comment
luke 🥸🥸
i was just joking around but i thought it may come off weird so i deleted it
luke 🥸🥸
sorry, stass
mini z ✊🏼💅🏻
it's fine its just if u have a problem i'd rather u just text me then comment on my post 😭😭
luke 🥸🥸
noted
mini z ✊🏼💅🏻
its fine lukey, im sorry about the party if i came off to harsh or anything. i just miss our friendship before that stupid trip
luke 🥸🥸
no I'M sorry, i shouldn't keep bringing it up. and its back to normal, i promise 🫶🏼🫶🏼
mini z ✊🏼💅🏻
ur the best luke, thank you 🫡 and between us, ur my fav hughes rn read 11:37
mini z ✊🏼💅🏻
you screenshotted that didn't u
luke 🥸🥸
YUPPPPPP😗😗😇😇
-> make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated! <-
thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡
#nhl#nhl imagine#nhl fic#hockey#nhl oneshot#nhl fanfiction#hockey fic#zegras' have more fun au#luke hughes smut#luke hughes fanfiction#luke hughes x reader#luke hughes#luke hughes imagines#luke hughes imagine#luke hughes fic#luke hughes x y/n#luke hughes blurb#new jersey devils#hughes brothers#jack hughes#nj devils#jack hughes x reader#jack hughes smut#jack hughes blurb#jack hughes fic#jack hughes imagine#jack hughes x y/n
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well deserved 1k!!! i got inspired by the ones you posted yesterday
bodyguard!tasm!peter x reader (can be royal au or not)
i just love the use of spidey senses in fics, especially when being around reader fucks with peter's ability to focus 🥰
Thanks sweetness <3
join the party
bodyguard!(tasm)Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 845 words
Peter doesn’t like to think of himself as being for hire. But, well, he does think of himself as a sort of civic employee. And money is tight. So if the mayor wants to pay Spiderman to keep an eye on his daughter after he’s gotten a few threats, it’s really his civic duty and a good business opportunity.
Still, he’d been expecting some bratty, snot-covered kid, not you, kind and his age and tongue-twistingly beautiful.
“Is this really the safest place for us to be?” you ask nervously.
“I, um, I think so,” Peter stammers, caught off-guard by how cinematic your hair looks blowing around in the wind (like, it’s fucking ridiculous). God, what is he doing? He doesn’t think so, he knows so. He’s supposed to be competent, in-charge, not some moony-eyed dunce. “Not many people can get this high other than me, so I figure if anyone’s trying to get to you, we may as well make it difficult for them.”
You hum your understanding, but you don’t relax. Peter doesn’t blame you; it’s easy for him to forget how scary heights were before he had the security of his web shooters, but he knows this drop must look terrifying. You’re perched at the top of a tower across the street from where your dad is giving a speech. For reasons he hadn’t seen fit to tell Peter (or Spiderman, whatever), the mayor seems to think that this would be a prime time for his political enemies to make a grab for you. Peter hopes it’s not because your dad’s about to say something stupid in front of this giant crowd and on live TV. He’d only mentioned that he’d been getting a few more death threats than usual lately, and wanted to be extra sure you were safe.
Your shoe slips an inch, and you whimper, though you’re still feet away from the edge of the roof.
“You’re okay,” Peter says quickly, moving closer to you. “Listen, the last thing I’m gonna do is let you fall. It’d make me a pretty bad bodyguard, you know?”
“I know,” you say, but you’re nearly panting, your chest rising and falling in shallow bursts as you try to keep your panic under control. “I’m sorry, it’s just—it’s a hard instinct to ignore.”
“I get that,” he says sympathetically. You’re all but sitting down against the sloped roof, fingers pressed to the metal as if you can dig your nails in to save yourself. Fuck, he’s gonna regret this. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but I could hold onto you if you want.”
You don’t even hesitate, nodding quickly. “That would make me much more comfortable, actually.”
Peter doesn’t waste any time, breaching the gap between you and wrapping his arm securely around your waist. You’re tense all over, and your nails bite into his shoulder as you grip it like a lifeline. Which, he supposes, you probably think it is. He feels his face grow warm under his mask as you press yourself up against him, but the proximity doesn’t seem to phase you, all your concern still focussed on the hundred foot drop beneath you. You’re shaking a little, and Peter feels guilty for not relieving you sooner, bringing his other arm around you to rub at the goosebumps on your upper arm hesitantly.
“Thanks,” you murmur breathlessly, seeming to relax more now that he’s got both arms around you.
“No problem.” Just doing my job, he thinks sarcastically. Feeling up a pretty girl.
He looks back at the podium across the street to realize the crowd has nearly doubled in size without him noticing. If you were distracting before, he doesn’t even know what to call you now. He can’t tell if his spidey sense is going haywire or if that’s just his nerves, all fired-up from your proximity. How’s he supposed to protect you if he can’t think of anything but how good you smell?
“I really appreciate your help,” you say, voice sweeter now that it’s lost some of its panicked edge, “even if I don’t wholly approve of your methods.” Is that a teasing note he detects? He definitely won’t be able to split his focus if you start flirting with him. “My dad doesn’t let me in the loop on much, do you know if this is just a one-time thing? Or will I be seeing more of you?”
Okay, fuck professionalism. “I’m not really sure,” Peter answers honestly, “but your dad seems like a smart guy, and I’m sure he doesn’t want you to be vulnerable. I mean, you’re already a target because you’re the mayor’s daughter, but a pretty thing like you? You should probably be under full-time protection.”
You really do slip then, gasping as your feet slide out from under you. Peter tugs you close to his side, not letting you move forward more than an inch. “Easy, easy,” he says as you clutch at him, trying to stabilize yourself. Now there’s a little pink coloring your cheeks, too. “I gotcha.”
#moonstruckme 1k celebration#tasm!peter parker#tasm peter parker#tasm spiderman#bodyguard!peter parker#tasm!peter parker x reader#tasm!peter x reader#tasm!peter parker x self insert#tasm!peter parker x fem!reader#tasm!peter parker x y/n#tasm!peter x you#tasm!peter parker x you#tasm!peter parker fanfiction#tasm!peter parker fanfic#tasm!peter parker fic#tasm!peter parker drabble#tasm!peter parker imagine#tasm!peter parker oneshot#tasm!peter parker scenario#tasm!peter imagine#tasm!spiderman x reader#the amazing spiderman
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Use you (P.P)
Warning(s); smut! 18+ only,unprotected piv sex,degradation kink,age gap,daddy kink,Ddlg undertones,reader being a housewife happily,making out,biting & blood kink,marking kink.oral fixation + More!
Pairings (s); Husband! Peter Parker x (Afab) Fem! Reader.
Summary; after a rough day of work your husband takes his frustration out on you.
A/n; this is a gift for @lanadelreyscokewhor3 <3 ty for my Matt smut it was delicious 🥰
You had spent the morning laid up in bed not even getting up until noon. You definitely enjoyed being a housewife even without kids, your husband worked at a multi billion dollar tech company. You took care of your house and he took care of you.
These past few weeks had been stressful for him there were a few issues in a coding mechanism and so he’d been working longer hours to fix it. It’s finally his weekend off and you plan to take away all his stress.
Once you finally got up you cleaned the whole house scrubbing it until your hands hurt. You made one of his favorite dinners his aunt’s lasagna and some garlic bread, you also made him some cookies.
You were swapping over the laundry when you heard the front door slam “babydoll?” Your husbands deep voice echoed. “Just a sec!” You replied and finished up before walking out to join him. “Hi honey!, rough day?” You asked seeing the sour look on his face.
“Yeah” was all he said “I made dinner” you said and he smiled softly “thank you baby” he sounded appreciative he just seemed tired. “Can we post pone dinner?” He asked and you nodded “of course, what do you need baby?” You asked, it was a dumb question really.
You were now splayed on your shared bed Peter ramming into you rather meanly. “Daddy!” You cried out and gasped when you felt peters teeth sink into your shoulder. You saw the red on his lips before he kissed you he tasted metallic like a wet penny.
He licked at the blood dripping down your shoulder his pace only becoming faster. Your stomach was burning your number of releases soaking your thighs,another building and you moaned. “Cmon baby” Peter slowed lifting your knees to your chest. You gasped it being harder to breathe now. “Gonna fill you baby. Make you a mommy” he groaned as did you the idea pushing you both closer to a release.
It didn’t take long for either of you to meet your end, Peter laid next to you the two of you focusing on breathing. After a minute he got up running you a bath, he cleaned you up and wiped you off before he got you in the bath.
You still felt dizzy, like you weren’t there completely. Seeing this Peter dried you and got you dressed before tugging you to lay in bed with him.
His fingers slipped into your mouth your body reflexively sucking against his skin. You were soon soothed to sleep your mind coming back to your husband.
#peter parker#peter parker x reader#peter parker andrew garfield#peter parker imagine#peter parker x fem!reader#tasm peter parker#peter parker smut#husband!peter#cecee 🐻
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