#i would tag miles x peter but that sends the wrong message

[peteypiessuperfamily]

Some Miles doodles to send off the year

(Plus a little tom!peter in there)

[the-stories-in-my-head-95]

Speaking Out- Part One

Miles Morales x Reader and Stony x Daughter!Reader

Summary- After years of being home schooled its finally time for you to start high school. It turns out that the charter school your Dads pick is the same one that the new spider-man goes to.

Message- Here’s part one of the sequel of Staying Quiet! Hope you like it!!!

Staying Quiet 

Word Count- 608

**Reader’s POV**

It had been a little more than a decade since Fury dropped you off on your Dads doorstep, and while your family changed over the years, almost everything else was the same. You still lived in the tower with your Daddy and Papa, you still played with the bots and you were still cuddly. Your speech had improved greatly, you no longer struggled with forming letters and syllables in your mouth, you did stutter when you were nervous, but you often covered that up by using sign language.

“So tomorrows the big day.” Steve says as he sits down at the dinner table.

“Yep.” You whisper as you use your fork to push the food around your plate.

“Are you nervous?” Steve asks quietly and you shrug your shoulders. “It’s okay to be nervous it’s your first day of school.”

“Most kids have that when they’re 5.” You murmur.

“Well you’re special.” Steve says as he grabs your hand and gives it a squeeze. “I’m sure all the other freshman are nervous.”

“Papa, its October. All the other kids already started school. Remember you and Daddy couldn’t agree on a school?” You say.

“Oh, right.” Steve murmurs. “Well….Tony do you have anything to add?”

“I can keep homeschooling you or if you want a class room setting you could skip high school all together and go right to college.” Tony says.

“Tony.” Steve sighs.

“What?!?!” Tony asks. “High school sucks!”

“TONY!”

“Sorry! Sorry! I’m sure it will be great for you, Peanut.” Tony stammers.

<It’s fine> You sign as you clear your plate. <I’m going to go play with Dum-E> You add before leaving the room.  

**Tony’s POV**

“She’s signing.” Steve murmurs.

“So?” Tony asks.

“It means she’s nervous.” Steve murmurs.

“Of course she’s nervous.” Tony says.

“Where doing the right thing right? Sending Y/N to school?”

“Yeah, I do.” Tony murmurs. “I mean I’m scared as hell, but I think it’s the right decision.”

“I’m nervous too.” Steve says as he takes his husbands hand.

“If Y/N doesn’t like it I’m pulling her out.” Tony murmurs.

“I’d expect nothing less.” Steve says before pulling Tony in for a kiss.

**Reader’s POV**

“Y/N! You’re going to be late!” Tony yells up to you.

“I-I’m coming!” You yell as you run out of your room. When you make your way into the kitchen you see your Dad and Papa leaning against the breakfast bar.

“So everything you need is in your backpack.” Tony starts. “Happy’s going to drop you off and pick you up, we already filled out the paper work so we don’t have to go with you. I-I mean we can come if you want us to! We just thought that, uh that you would want-.”

“We just figured you’d want to fly under the radar, on your first day at least. But if we were wrong-.” Steve says.

“No, you were both right.” You say. “It’s not like embarrassed by the two of you or anything, it’s just that-uh.”

“We get it, sweetie.” Steve says as he pulls you into a hug.

“We know you’re not embarrassed by us.” Your Dad adds as he joins in on the family hug.

“I should probably get going.” You murmur. “I love you, Dad. I love you, Papa.”

“Love you too, Peanut.” Tony says as your Papa drops a kiss on your head.

“We’ll be here when you get back.” Steve says as you put your backpack on.

“Don’t forget that you’re only using the last name Rogers at school, it’s less conspicuous than Stark.” Tony says.

“I won’t!” You say before going out the door. “Bye!”

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[rileywrites-parker]

Inspiring Confidence (Part II)

Peter Parker x Reader

This hilarity was originally posted by @tomhstories so go like/reblog this from them, please.

I’m just going to add this little addition from @tbholland right here to help you guys visualize....

So I wrote something for this, because as soon as I saw these all I could think of was Peter, and how he would totally do something like this, but immediately regret it and panic.

I suggest you read Part I first, this will be much funnier if you do.

Summary: ‘“Did you – did you actually just send me nudes?” Looking at yourself in the mirror as you spoke, at the white of your teeth as lips stretched tight across them and eyes crinkled as you smiled…’

Words: 1.2k Warnings: Awkward adorable Peter thinking he has text game, but is really just a dork. Mentions of nudity/intimacy.

(I really cannot believe that I wrote this. I’m so sorry.)

A contented sigh pushed past moistened lips as hot water pounded away at tense shoulders, muscle fibers tangled with all of the hours spent finishing up that paper you’d ended up putting off until late the next evening; laptop and scholarly words pushed aside for toffee curls, fluttering eyelashes, and words that were much more recreational.

There had been more giggling and clanging teeth than there normally was; lips too busy stretched across each other in smiles to even bother avoiding clumsiness.

A rosy blush had stained his face, his sculpted cheeks and sandy freckles a soft, flowery purple in the hazy blue lighting for most of the night. Petal pink color following the two of you back to your room as you’d quickly forgotten about black, white, blue, and jazz and moved on to mixing your colors and making music of your own kind.

He’d left in the early hours of the morning, a colored shadow escaping out of the window and into the purpling sky. You hadn’t heard from him since; it wasn’t often that Spider-Man truly got a night off.

Through the harsh pattering sound of droplets hitting the plastic of the shower curtain, you heard the tell-tale ping of your phone, accompanying vibration rattling against the marbled surface of the sink. The fact that it was 3 A.M. on a Sunday leaving you with no doubt: it was Peter.

But then it was almost always Peter.

Rinsing the last of the conditioner from your hair, humid air full of flowers and rain, you cut the water off and grabbed for your towel just in time for Peter’s ringtone to echo off the tiles in the steamed bathroom; drying off pruned hands and wrapping fluffed fabric around yourself before grabbing at the phone that was bouncing across the slicked surface of the counter; a lazy smile on your face.

“Peter, Isn’t it a little lat-” in a repeat of the night before, his nervous voice was cutting you off, vibrating, not unlike the way your phone had been seconds earlier.

“Look, I’m sorry, I didn’t think you would mind and that was a terrible idea,” chuckles uneasy, deep and bubbling past lips, “and, um, I - I’m not really sure exactly what I was thinking or – actually, again, I do, that’s a lie – ohmygod, um – I was impatient and now I just feel like it was gross, and - ”

“Peter?” You interrupted, deciding on words rather than the laughter that was begging to release as you connected the dots.

“Hmm?” Squeak of a sound from a tight, nervous throat.

“Did you – did you actually just send me nudes?”

Looking at yourself in the mirror as you spoke, at the white of your teeth as lips stretched tight across them and eyes shimmered as a choked laugh found its way to your ear from where ever Peter was. He was undoubtedly pink from head to toe, freckles on his face and shoulders shining like the stars as the colors surrounding them crescendo and make them light up in the way you so admire.

“No, HA, yes, I mean – that uh, that depends. Did your phone go off before I called you? Please tell me it didn’t. Please? Because if it didn’t - ”

“No such luck, Parker,” suspicions confirmed, there was no waiting. You were back to doing as you had the night before, checking the embarrassing messages your flustered boyfriend had sent you from the other end of the line.

You could hear his heavy breathing, could practically feel his heart beating furiously as he sat and listened for a reaction; you could imagine funny brows pinched together in the middle, white teeth peeking out as he bit at the corner of a pink, chapped lip, sweaty hand grabbing at the back of a blushing neck.

“I’m sorry. You caught that, right?”

But you weren’t really listening.

He was all long lines, harsh angles, glowing, golden skin and freckles that seemed to go on for miles and miles. It looked like he had been in the shower, too, dark shiny curls just visible, angle suggesting the dork might have actually really thought it through, like he’d spent time on getting it just right. He knew what your favorite parts of him were; you hadn’t told him with words so much as shown him.

When your eyes caught on that part of him your stomach flopped.

Oh.

It wasn’t anything that you hadn’t already seen, but that didn’t stop your heart and lungs from keeping time with his as you lingered and forgot that the man you were eyeing up on your screen was actually still listening and gauging your reaction.

Just as you couldn’t stop your body from responding in the way that it often, always, did as far as Peter was concerned, you couldn’t stop the crooked grin and the quirk of a still damp brow as you decided.

“Pe-nis Parker, my my,” and you heard his intake of breath, heard the rushed ‘ohmygod,’ “if only you’d thought to send - ”

“HA, no, nope, uh-uh, not going there,” voice closer to the honey you were used to, smile pulling at his lips obvious.

“Mhmm, well, thanks for the material, hot stuff, see you to - ”

“Hey, no no, wait a second.”

“Yes, Pete?” You were using your sweetest voice, knowing what he was wanting, but not willing to pull the bumbling, blushing mess out from the waters of embarrassment. Not quite yet.

“I – you – um,” and you could see him again, redness back on his cheeks and fingers in those curls as he stumbled over the question that had latched itself onto his tongue.

“Did you want something?” He clicked his tongue at your words and you could feel him rolling his eyes at your tone, lip pulling up at the corner as he recognized your teasing.

“Well, yeah, if – but only if you wanted, only if that’s –“

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Peter” and you hung up, heart fluttering in your ears as you laughed a little at yourself, at the ridiculousness of your sometimes awkwardly endearing boyfriend, who wasn’t always aware of himself, what he was, what he could ask of you, what you would do for him; even this.

But in this moment, he was Peter, who just so happened to look really good in whatever lighting he had managed for the photo you found yourself looking at again.

A smirk found your lips once more and you dropped your towel, soft fabric pooling around your toes, “OK, Parker.”

The next morning when you met him and Ned for breakfast, there was a little pep to your step at the thought of what you had likely just done to the man sitting at the quaint, conservative wrought iron table out on the patio, streams of the early morning sun doing nothing to hide the rosiness burnishing his cheeks as his eyes widened and he looked up at you from his phone, looking quickly away again as he took in your expression, pout on his lips as he reached for his drink.

He was working diligently on downing his glass of ice water as you tucked yourself into your chair, glass nearly tipping over as he sat it back down and cleared his throat, brown of his eyes avoiding the look on your face at all costs.

“Good morning, hot stuff,” and you had to laugh a little as he groaned and squirmed in his seat.

“Oh, come on,” he whispered, “why? this is-this is just -”

“Good morning, Ned” you nodded, smile still on your face as you took in Ned’s confused, but humored expression, taking in the half-assed dirty looks Peter was shooting you from across the table as you got comfortable, smiling at him like the sun was on his scarlet face and rapidly bouncing leg.

But then he was shaking his head and grinning at you, melted dark chocolate of his eyes swirling as you quirked a brow at him.

“Peter, what the heck is wrong with you, dude? That’s the first time I’ve ever seen you let her tuck her own chair in,” and then you lost it as Peter groaned again, hiding those starlight freckles and dark eyes between folded arms on the table, fingers shoving his phone away from him in true, dramatic Parker fashion.

“Yeah, what gives Parker? Something wrong with your legs?”

He turned his head, toffee curls a mess, and peeked an eye out at you, corners crinkling and cheeks pushing at baggy under eyes as he grinned. You found yourself winking as you tapped at his nose and said, “Or is there something in your lap?”

“Oh my God, never again.”

But he hadn’t really meant that.

  Let me know what you guys think. Feedback is always appreciated. Tag list: @demigodofthesun @jadeindiamonds @radicalstars @klenasdmitry   @dej-okay @spiderling–parker @walkers-imagine  @kauffdrop  @ironspiderling  @tomissoprettywow @planet-holland @tonky-stank  @someweirdassrandomphrase @deans-angel-of-thursdays @stephie-senpai  @alllwebbedup  @partytrickparker  @hotcupofhollands  @spider-bih