#or jump off a building with parker

[geeky-nightphilosopher]

Okay, okay. You all are probably ANNOYED about my Leverage posts- and I was on the fence about posting this one because I'm only on season 3. However, I just have SO many thoughts and I need to process them. So- here it goes;

*takes a deep breath*

Leverage is home. Like, I don't- I don't know to explain it. In another post I said the show was intoxicating and that's still true. But it's also- it's also home. Maybe I'm the only one, but when I watch it- I feel like I belong. Which is ridiculous. I'm not talented at all- but Leverage is almost like a security blanket. It's- it's safe and warm... it's home.

The only thing I can think of why it's home is because of them. Because they make it feel like home. They make feel safe and like your being cared for. Like your not alone. Even if you don't think your good at something- Leverage has your back. It gives you a sense of security. Which is weird because their criminals. But- like they said; Sometimes the bad guys are the only good guys you get.

I mean- you have Nate Ford who is always two to three spaces in front of the bad guy. Who sits there and listens to victims and gives them hope. Who talks to his team and bounces ideas off of them- instead of talking down to them. He's the kinda guy that watches from the background and sees all sorts of angles. Gets into the minds of both the victim and assailant. And if the con goes wrong- he has a second one ready to cover. Whose weakness is an empty bottle in an occupied barstool.

You have Sophie. A terrible actress whose good at acting. She can play any part. Be unseen- while being seen. Whose brave, kind, and gentle- but can kick butt when needed. She's not a damsel in distress- but she'll play the part. And the thing about that part is; it's so convincing- even she believes it too. Despite that- she's honest and sincere, she'll tell you what she thinks. Her heart is gold. Her trust is thin. She's like a snake- hypnotizing. Her weakness is the love she gave to a man who thinks too much and feels too little.

You have Eliot. A man that- if you just look at him- you'll just shrug him off. He's like any other brute. Big and brawny. And that's why you shouldn't ever judge a book by it's cover. He's so much more than that. Yes. He's brawn. A real southern charmer. But he has a brain and a heart. He's that big brother and gives you hugs and you can't help but melt into the security of that feeling. That feeling of safety that you just know has an ocean of anger underneath. But your not scared, you can't be scared. Not of him. He's the kinda guy you run towards- because you know he'll keep you safe. And yeah- maybe he'll use his brawn to keep you safe, but he'll also use his brain and his heart. He'll get you out of the situation in one piece with a grumble and a growl. His weakness is his kindness and that's why doesn't let it show.

You have Alec. The brainiac. The hacker- who isn't all that much to look at (compared to Eliot,) at least not at first glance. Yet, there's something about him that screams safe. Just as much as Eliot. He's outgoing and kind. Smart and funny. And the way that he's got everyone's back- even when it doesn't seem like it. He's your go to- to find any kind of internet mistakes and he's a good shoulder to cry on. He's that brother who is dorky, awkward, and nerdy- but he's honest and sincere. His weakness is not being able to be there when it really matters.

And- and you have Parker. The thief. The master thief- that didn't belong anywhere. Nimble and lean as she flips and slinks through vents. She's the little sister the family didn't know they even wanted. Until finally they realized she was what they needed. She's bright and cheerful despite how she grew up. Her life wasn't easy foster care and street living is a rough life- but she still believes in good things; Santa clause, Nate, Sophie, and Eliot. Most importantly she believed in Hardison. She was on her own until she was found and working with a team. Then she belonged to them. Everything she had done- was so that they knew she loved them. Her weakness is having the ability to not get caught.

To end this; Leverage is an amazing shoe- because it reminds us that no matter our background. No matter how many times we've messed up and haven't belonged- we are all human. It tells us that we will find our home, our tribe, our safety. That no matter our weakness- we'll always have somebody who can take our weakness and become our strength.

I'm only on season 3. I'll more than likely have more thoughts come by season 4/ season 5. (If you agree or disagree- don't hesitate to message me!

[ambafaerie]

oh the parallels i love the parallels here.

[erodingsinner]

I got asked if I was making Slenderman.... Kinda want to start again now 😭

[marvelfilth]

Jealous girl (18+)

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x f!reader

Warnings: secret relationship, smut, jealousy, possessiveness, daddy kink, fingering, age gap (reader is in her early 20s, Natasha's in her 30s), praise, pet names, orgasm denial

Summary: your best friend Peter needs help, Natasha's not happy about it at all.

Masterlist

You're standing in the kitchen when it happens.

Peter barges in, his hair a tangled mess, his sweatshirt inside out. You jump away from Natasha's arms, making her spill her protein shake. She shoots him a dirty look, her lips curling up upon registering his disheveled state.

You try to keep the annoyance from showing on your face, but you know you're doing a terrible job when Peter winces apologetically, throwing a bag full of Ben and Jerry's on the counter.

"Code red," he pants.

You straighten immediately, trying to shoo Natasha away with a look, but, instead of leaving, she makes herself comfortable on the counter with an excited glint in her eyes.

You've been friends with Peter ever since he ran you over with his bike in kindergarten, leaving you with a tiny scar on your shin, and a fear of any two-wheeled object. Your friendship grew over the years, and soon enough you were joined at hip, going to the same school and college, tagging along on his patrols, mainly to keep him out of the police radars.

"What's wrong?" You ask, fearing the worst. "Is Venom acting up again? Is it Felicia? I swear to God, if it's her again I'm gonna-"

That's when you decided to make a secret code to help you stay under the radar. In hindsight, you could've thought of something more elaborate than code red, code green and code yellow, but neither of you had enough brain power for that.

"It's MJ!" He cuts you off, shifting on his feet.

You stammer, looking at Natasha for help, but she appears equally puzzled. "I didn't think she had it in her, to be honest," she says, taking a sip of her shake.

"What?" Peter yelps, before jumping up, his hands flying up in an X motion. "No! She's not- No! She's not a villain, or a criminal, or anything like that."

You decide you've had enough of his blabbering, so you take hold of his shoulders and corner him against the counter. "What is it, Peter?"

He takes a deep breath, his cheeks painted crimson, and blurts out, "I really need you to kiss me."

You jump away like you've been burned, shooting an alarmed look to Natasha, but she doesn't register it, her eyes narrowed to dangerous slits, her knuckles white from the grip she has on her protein shake. You think you can hear it creak.

You turn back to look at your best friend, who's blissfully unaware of your relationship with the most dangerous person in this building, just like everyone else on the team.

Natasha's reluctance to share her love life with her teammates came to bite her in the ass.

"No, wait. That came out wrong." He winces, his eyes darting to Natasha. You can hear him gulp when their eyes meet.

"I think you were pretty clear, Parker," she gritts, jumping off the counter, and comes to stand behind you, hovering over your shoulder.

You send him an encouraging look, taking hold of Natasha's hand behind your back.

"I have a date with MJ-"

"Doesn't explain why you need my- Y/n to kiss you."

You shoot her a warning look. "Let him finish."

Her jaw clenches, but she relents, nodding to the boy to continue.

He looks like he regrets every life choice that led him to this moment.

"Okay, so. I have a date with MJ, and I planned it all out, right? But… um… there's a problem." He clasps his hands, thumbs fiddling. You stay silent in fear of him closing off, and patiently wait for him to continue. "I've never had a girlfriend before, and I've been kissed twice, if you count that one time when Ned fell on top of me and kind of swallowed my face." Natasha snorts, and Peter blushes deep red, his eyes pleading. "I need practice because otherwise I'll just embarrass myself, and she'll hate me forever."

You feel Natasha tense up again, and you're ready to ask her to leave, but she beats you to it, speaking up before you could open your mouth. "I don't think MJ would like you kissing someone else right before your date." Her tone is even, carefully emotionless, but you feel the way her breathing shakes slightly, her grip on your hand tightening.

Peter looks at you, brows set in confusion. "But it's Y/n, she doesn't count as someone!" You huff, indignant. He winces, but goes on. "I could ask Ned, but I don't think he has any experience, so please, please do this for me?"

You turn around to face Natasha. "Can you leave us?"

Her eyes narrow, lips curled. "You're not kissing him." Her hands land on your waist possessively, and you're suddenly turned around. She lowers her chin to your shoulder, lips grazing the shell of your ear as she speaks, "Listen to me very carefully, Parker."

Peter gulps, and takes a step back, his eyes wide and alert.

"You're going to leave and find someone else to help with your little problem. We'll pretend this conversation never took place, and you'll never even think about kissing Y/n again. Am I being clear?" She almost growls, her eyes flashing.

Peter nods dumbly, before hurrying to the door. He stops halfway to shoot you a bewildered look over his shoulder. "Wait… Are you two-"

"Out, Parker," Natasha barks, her face half buried in the crook of your neck. You blush, and wave your friend goodbye, grateful when he disappears behind the door without any further questions.

"Tasha," you whine, turning in her hold. "That wasn't necessary."

She scoffs, and picks you up with practiced ease, settling you on the counter and taking place between your parted thighs. "Yes it was." She sucks at the tender skin just below your collarbone, leaving a stinging bruise. "I can't believe you wanted me to leave." She squeezes your hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh. Her mouth is all over your neck - sucking, biting and licking, claiming. You're sure no amount of concealer will be enough to hide the marks.

"Natty," you whimper, "he's my friend, I wanted to talk some sense into him."

She hums, the skin on the underside of your jaw pulled between her teeth. "I did the same thing, no?" Her fingers sneak past the waistband of your shorts, but you're quick to catch her wrist.

"What are you doing?" You look around, panting heavily. "What if someone walks in?"

"Daddy," you moan, pushing her face lower. Her fingers feel so heavenly that you don't even care about anyone walking in - you need her tongue, now. "Please."

You're pushed flat against the counter then, your back on the cold marble, your ass hanging right off the edge. Your fingers disappear in her tresses when she bends down to place a kiss on your clothed cunt.

"Let them see who you belong to," she murmurs, entering your aching core. You bite back a moan, arching in her hold, your pussy clenching around her long digits. Fleeting kisses are placed all over your stomach, her fingers curling inside your heat.

She chuckles, gently biting on your hip bone. "So needy already? I barely started." She adjusts the angle, fastening the pace, but your shorts get in the way, making you huff impatiently.

"Take them off, please," you whimper, clenching around her.

"And when someone walks in, and sees you spread wide open, what then? You think I'd allow anyone to see this pretty pussy?" Her fingers scissor inside you, stretching your walls.

"N-no."

"That's right," she hums, "because it belongs to me." She pulls out to land a short slap on your slit. "Perfect little hole for daddy to play with."

She teases your folds, collecting wetness before pushing her fingers into your mouth. You eagerly suck them in, letting her fuck your mouth, tips of her fingers pushing against your throat. "Such an obedient girl," she murmurs, dark eyes fixated on your lips. You squirm, hips rocking against her abdomen with desperate need of release.

She pulls out her fingers, smearing your slick mixed with spit over your chin.

"I need you," you whine, catching her wrist and leading her hand lower, your panties sticking to your drenched cunt.

She takes the fabric in her fist, and tugs it up, making it press against your pulsing clit. You moan loudly, throwing your head back. She kneads your supple breast with her other hand, and you arch into her, pulling her closer to your aching core with your hips.

"We'll tell everyone tonight," she murmurs against your lips. "But right now you need to be a good girl and take everything daddy gives you."

You nod, feeling your pussy clench around nothing, begging for Natasha's fingers to return. She tugs on your lower lip with her teeth and plunges three fingers inside, hitting a spongy spot deep in your heat. You arch off the counter, pressing against her front, your legs clenched hard around her hips. She grunts lowly, setting a slow pace, making sure to explore your pussy with each thrust, collecting your wetness when she pulls out only to push it back inside. You bury your face in her shoulder, your fingers disappear in her hair, tugging at the tresses.

"Good?" She whispers against your ear, spreading her fingers inside, her thumb firm on your clit.

You gasp, and bite down on the muscle of her shoulder, nodding with your eyes clenched shut. "S-so good, daddy."

She hums, her full lips pulling in a smirk, and starts circling your pulsing nub. You throw your head back, moaning loudly, and she takes the opportunity to paint your neck purple, sucking on the tender skin hard enough to leave bruises.

"M'gonna… I'm gonna come," you whimper when she hits your sweet spot, making your toes curl.

"Did I say you could, babygirl?" She chuckles into your neck, making sure to hit the spot with each thrust. You shake your head, closing your eyes and furrowing your brows in effort to stop your approaching orgasm, your body as tense as a drawn bowstring. "That's right, baby," she cooes, kissing the corner of your mouth, "you're not allowed to."

Your heart drops to your stomach, torn between wanting to be Natasha's good girl and giving in to the pleasure. “Please, please let me…” you whine, buckling against her hand.

She pulls away, her eyes level with yours, and you want to sob from how good she feels inside you, your pussy clenching around her slender fingers.

“You’ll hold it for me,” she says, “and I'll make up for it later tonight.” You almost huff in frustration, knowing that you'll have to walk around the Compound painfully wet for the rest of the day.

She grabs your jaw, seemingly reading your thoughts. “And don't even think about touching yourself.”

She pulls away abruptly and tugs you off the counter before fixing your shorts and stepping away. You blink rapidly, disoriented by the sudden change, your pussy aching in the sweetest way.

Sam enters the kitchen a second later.

You subtly wipe your mouth clean, and even out your breathing while he rummages the upper shelves. Natasha's eyes glint with mischief as she slowly wipes her fingers with a paper towel.

"You up for a training session?" She asks Sam, and you shoot her a furious look. Your glare does nothing to the redhead, as she continues watching you silently, a teasing smirk pulling at her mouth.

Sam scoffs, looking between you two. "Like you weren't about to get nasty two seconds ago."

Natasha chuckles, her eyes flashing. "About to? You need to work on your observation skills, Wilson."

Sam stills, his eyes darting between you two, and you look away, knowing that nothing could hide your red cheeks and bruised lips.

He chokes on his water the moment he sees your neck. "Damn, Romanoff," he gasps, coughing. "Right here?! This is a sacred place! I cook here!"

Natasha hums, shrugging carelessly. "I eat here," she retorts, and you can tell by the crinkles near her eyes she's about to say something that's gonna make you want to bury yourself. "Actually, I was about to devour something really delic-"

"Natasha!" You shriek, tugging her away from the kitchen, but not before quietly apologizing to Sam.

She laughs quietly, following you to the bedroom. "I think we're banned from the kitchen now."

She thinks. You scoff, shaking your head. Trust Natasha to go from a full secrecy mode to telling every living soul about your sex life.

[jezebelblues]

so not cool | h.s

summary: in which spiderman is obviously much cooler than dad

cw: dadrry. overuse of the word spider-man. u could play a drinking game by how much its mentioned prolly

word count: approx 1.7k

| the result of being up for 20h, writers block n being bored out of my mind !! idk what this is but…it’s..definitely an addition to the dadrry universe .. for sure (prob will delete 🔥)

not necessary but here’s the first dadrry post if ur into that

masterlist

July 2021

The sound of the credits rolling filled the living room as Harry leaned back against the couch, a sleepy grin tugging at his lips. Atlas, now three years old and still wide-eyed with excitement, sat curled up against his father’s side, his tiny fingers clutching the corner of a fleece one direction blanket that Harry had bought off Etsy, something he found to be absolutely hilarious. They had just finished watching the original Spider-Man movie, the one with Tobey Maguire, and Harry couldn’t help but chuckle at the awe that was practically radiating off his son.

“Dad,” Atlas breathed, his voice filled with wonder as he looked up at Harry with those big, round eyes that mirrored his mother’s. “Pider-man s’cool.”

They were working on his pronunciation of R’s and S’s. Not too much progress yet.

Harry bit back a laugh, ruffling his son’s messy curls as he glanced down at him. “Yeah, he’s pretty cool, isn’t he?”

Atlas nodded vigorously, his little legs kicking against the couch as his excitement bubbled over. “He climbs n’ has webs n’ fights ba’guys!”

Harry grinned, watching the way Atlas’s face lit up as he recounted all of the abilities with the fervor only a toddler could muster. His little hands gestured wildly as if he were mimicking shooting webs out of his wrists.

“Best superhero in’a whole world!” Atlas declared, sitting up straighter as if this revelation were the most important one he’d ever made.

Harry chuckled, reaching over to grab the remote and lower the volume on the TV. “Better than Batman?”

“Super much better.” Atlas exclaimed, his voice incredulous, as if he couldn’t believe Harry would even ask such a thing.

“Better than Iron Man?” Harry tried again, his tone teasing as he listed off another iconic hero.

His boy paused for a moment, his brow furrowing in concentration as he thought it over. His little hand lifted to his chin in the same way Harry often did when he was deep in thought, and he couldn’t help but smile at the sight of it. After a moment, Atlas shook his head decisively. “M’yeah. Way cooler.”

Harry leaned back against the couch, folding his arms as he played along. “So, that’s it? Peter Parker’s just the best?”

“Yeah!” Atlas said excitedly, jumping off the couch and running around the living room, pretending to shoot webs from his wrists. “He’s fast ‘nd he can climb buildings like this!” He hopped up on the couch and began to scale the back of it with his small, wobbly legs, pretending he was on the side of a skyscraper.

Harry leaned forward, his hands hovering near Atlas to catch him in case he lost his balance. “Easy there, spidey,” he chuckled. “No need to break the couch, bub.”

Atlas giggled as he perched himself on the top of the couch, still caught up in his make-believe world. He turned to Harry, his eyes bright with excitement. “Daddy?” He paused, watching his father’s gaze resettle upon him. “y’think spideys stronger than you?”

Harry raised an eyebrow, smirking as he leaned back against the couch again. “Stronger than me, huh? That’s a tough one. I mean, I’ve got some pretty strong muscles too, you know.” He tried to persuade his son, flexing his bicep in front of him.

Atlas tilted his head, considering this for a moment before a mischievous grin spread across his face. “M’no cause he can do this!” He flung his wrist out, making a thwip! noise as he pretended to shoot webs across the room.

Harry’s grin widened as he watched his son in full superhero mode. “Alright, alright, you’ve got me there. I don’t have webs.”

“Duh!” The boy exclaimed again, leaping off the couch and landing with a soft thud on the carpet. He scrambled back up and raced over to Harry, his little hands grabbing at his dad’s arms as he looked up at him with pure adoration. “But y’cool too, dad.”

Harry laughed, his heart swelling at the sight of his son’s wide grin. “Oh, just cool am I? Not the coolest?”

Atlas giggled, shaking his head, jumping in place with his palms against his dad’s knees. “Nope, he–he still more better.”

YN had been listening from the kitchen as she prepared dinner, the scent of garlic and herbs filling the air. She leaned against the counter, smiling to herself as she heard the playful back-and-forth between her husband and their son. Harry always had such a way of connecting with Atlas—whether it was through silly games, bedtime stories, or, in this case, debates over superheroes.

She wiped her hands on a dish towel and wandered into the living room, catching sight of Atlas now climbing into Harry’s lap. “What’s all this about Spider-Man?” she asked, crossing her arms with a mock-stern expression.

The curly haired boy whipped his head around, his face lighting up when he saw his mom. “Mama! We watched’ed pider-man!”

YN raised her eyebrows, glancing at Harry, who shrugged with an amused smile. “I see,” she said, nodding seriously. “And where does daddy rank on the superhero scale?”

Without missing a beat, Atlas giggled and pointed at Harry. “M’he not a superhero—he’s just daddy!”

Harry feigned offense, gasping dramatically as he clutched his chest. “Just dad? C’mon, mate, I’m way cooler than that.”

Atlas giggled even harder, clearly enjoying the game. “Y’climb on buildings?”

Harry chuckled, wrapping his arms around Atlas and pulling him into a gentle bear hug. “Okay, I can’t climb buildings, but I bet Spider-Man can’t make pancakes as good as me.”

The boy paused, clearly torn by this new piece of information. He loved his dad’s pancakes, after all. But after a moment, he shook his head, his resolve firm. “Pider-man don’t eat pancakes.”

YN laughed as she sat down on the couch beside them, placing her hand on Harry’s knee. “He’s got you there, babe. You might have to accept second place.”

He sighed in mock defeat, his dimples deepening as he looked down at his boy, who was grinning from ear to ear. “Alright, fine. he can be the coolest for now. But when you get hungry in the morning, don’t come crying to me for pancakes.”

“He make them for me!” Atlas shot back with a laugh, clearly enjoying teasing his dad.

He laughed, pressing a kiss to the top of Atlas’s curly head. “You think Parker knows how to make chocolate chip pancakes like I do? I doubt it.”

YN watched them with a soft smile, her heart swelling with affection. She loved these moments—the way Harry could be completely goofy and playful with their son, never taking himself too seriously, and the way Atlas adored his dad with a fierceness that made her heart melt. It was a kind of magic, watching the two of them together.

She ran a finger through Harry’s curls, pressing a kiss into the locks as she breathed him in. “I’m plating dinner.” She mumbled as she ambled back into the kitchen.

Harry grunted as he stood up, pulling his son up in his arms along with him. “To the table, web-slinger.” He told Atlas, swinging him in his arms with small little swooshing sounds.

Their boy giggled as Harry swooped him through the air like an airplane, his little arms stretched out as if he were flying. They made their way to the kitchen, where YN was setting plates of steaming food on the table.

"Hungry?” YN teased as Harry plopped Atlas into his booster seat.

He nodded enthusiastically. "I want 'tatoes!"

Harry chuckled, grabbing a spoon to serve Atlas a helping of mashed potatoes. "Here you go, bubba. But no webs at the dinner table, okay?"

He giggled, pretending to shoot webs one more time before focusing on his plate. Harry and YN exchanged a fond smile, and for a moment, the room was filled with nothing but the sounds of dinner-plates clinking, forks scraping, and the occasional happy hum from Atlas as he devoured his meal.

After dinner, they settled into their nighttime routine-baths, pajamas, and a bedtime story.

Atlas, freshly bathed and smelling of lavender, jumped snuggled into his bed. It was navy blue with cartoonish planets littered about, but his favorite thing would have to be his rainbow zebra-print 1D blanket tucked around him. Harry sat on the edge of the bed, the familiar worn copy of Goodnight Moon in his hands.

"Goodnight room, goodnight moon," He read softly, his voice soothing. Atlas's eyelids grew heavy as he clutched his favorite stuffed animal, a plush giraffe.

YN stood in the doorway, watching her two boys with a soft smile. She loved these quiet moments, the way Harry's voice softened as he read to Atlas, the way their son's small body relaxed into sleep. "Goodnight stars, goodnight air, goodnight noises everywhere."

As he closed the book, he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to Atlas's forehead. "Goodnight, spidey."

Atlas's lips curled into a sleepy smile, his voice a soft mumble as he drifted off. "G’night, daddy."

With that, Harry quietly stood and tiptoed out of the room, YN slipping her hand into his as they left their little guy to dream of webs and skyscrapers.

The door closed behind them with a soft click before he scooped his wife over his shoulder quietly, trudging toward their bedroom and throwing her onto the bed through her soft protests.

YN laughed as she landed on the bed, playfully swatting at Harry as he crawled over her. "You're ridiculous," she whispered, though her smile said she didn't mind one bit.

Her husband grinned, his eyes twinkling in the dim light of their bedroom. "Well, if I'm not the coolest in the house, l've got to show off my other skills, don't I?"

She rolled her eyes, pulling him down for a kiss. "You're still my favorite," she murmured against his lips.

He smiled into the kiss, his hands resting on her hips as he whispered back, "Good, because I'm not giving up that spot anytime soon."

The house grew quiet, the hum of the evening settling in around them as they lay together.

Outside, the stars were beginning to twinkle in the night sky, and the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze was the only sound breaking the silence. Harry reached over to switch off the bedside lamp, wrapping his arms around YN as they snuggled into each other.

It was in those days that Harry realized—he didn't need to be the coolest superhero. Being Atlas's dad, YN's husband, and the maker of the best chocolate chip pancakes in the world was more than enough. It was everything.

[creative-caramel-coffee]

The Spiders Sister - Chapter 1

Summary: Reader gets caught hiding out in the avengers tower. In the end it turns out for the best.

TW: non-sexual nudity, illness, fainting, swearing

Words: 4.1K

A/n: Super long first chapter

маленький паук – Little Spider

It defiantly wasn’t part of your life plan to be living with your bother again in your adulthood.

You had spent an excellent few months on your own having finally moved out of May Parker’s apartment, it had been perfect. Well … as perfect as life could be for a parker.

Then … you guessed it … parker luck struck again. There was a huge fight, one you had been itching to join but your brother, peter parker, had it covered. And since nobody knew that you sometimes wore the spider-man suit when peter wasn’t able to, it would all be over if two Spider-Man’s ended up fighting some of the weird aliens that had invaded New York.

You see, you and your brother had more in common than most siblings did. Peter parker had been bitten by a radioactive spider on a school trip as was known to a few people. But, at the same time, you had been eighteen and chaperoning the field trip.

When peter had snuck off to the side you had gone after him. When he was bitten, so were you.

But for now, you had decided to try and stay away from the superhero lifestyle. But when the itch came, peter lent you his suit so you could scratch it.

You had helped him refine his web-fluid and had your own web shooters as well as one of his old suits just in case. May knew about you and peter after finding out a while ago. However, peter and you had kept everything about your existence from the avengers so you could live a semi-normal life. At least for now.

But the day the avengers were fighting off the aliens, New York had taken some heavy damage. You had been running a small illustration business out of your apartment in queens. Your apartment … which was now levelled in the fight was gone. Along with your business.

Since you had moved out young, May only had one spare bedroom in her apartment which peter was occupying. Leaving the Parker’s with one option.

As peter had a room in the avenger's tower, you could stay there or with aunt may. Peter being Peter didn’t want to ask tony if he could stay in the tower for the unforeseeable future without arousing questions. So, you had been secretly living in the tower for about three days now.

Peter brought you food and had bribed Jarvis to keep your existence a secret. You had his old suit if you wanted to leave the tower, you could swing away instead of walking through the building and getting caught.

It was a pretty solid plan and it had been working pretty well. Until the day you got sick.

Peters' bedroom in the tower was on the floor with the other avengers, meaning you had to be somewhat quiet so Natasha, clint or the others didn’t find you. But it had begun to get colder out, and Peters old suit didn’t have a heater. It had been made before tony had found out spiders, including peter and yourself, can't thermoregulate. And swinging around New York without a heater in the nippy winter air had left you with a pretty nasty cold.

Unlike peter your powers didn’t give you super healing. In fact, your powers differed from peters in more ways than one. For one thing you had small fangs which you could retract, they didn’t do much, but they were cool, and peter was mildly jealous. Another thing was you had taken on aspects of jumping spiders as you could jump higher due to your super strength and some weird spider quality peter lacked.

Like peter the bit had given your excellent eyesight, increased metabolism, a lack of thermoregulation, the weird sticky thing, the spider sense and super strength and the allergy to peppermint. But due to sharing the suit anytime you went out as “Spider-Man” you had to refrain from using your own unique powers, so you didn’t give anything away.

The thermoregulating thing may have finally come back to bite you now that you were in peters old suit. After taking one of his patrols for him so he could finish his assignment and you could get out of his room in the tower, the cold had made you sick. Heres the thing about having a high metabolism when you don’t have an increased healing factor. It went one of two ways. Either you had flash colds which were taken care of quickly and at a much faster rate than the average human, or if it was stronger than your immune system, it was quickly made into a bigger problem than it should have been due to your body processing things faster and speeding up its strength.

Anytime this had happened in the past, due to not being able to go to a regular hospital, you had thanked the gods for May choosing a career in nursing. Though she had been able to treat you superficially with regular medicine and not anything made for super soldiers or spiders as that was a Bruce banner specialty that was unique to the tower's med bay. So, you often just had to ride it out and if things got really bad, peter would try and smuggle you some of his medicine out of the tower for you.

So, this is where you ended up. Curled up in Peters bed in the tower, stifling rough sounding coughs into his pillow and making a mental note to wash his sheets soon. You were doing your best to remain quiet and not alert either of the super spies to your presence or any of the other avengers. You thanked Thor that only you and peter had super hearing which meant you could usually tell if someone was in the halls.

Feeling miserable you buried yourself further into the sheets and shivered, it was so cold but in reality, you probably had a high fever. Your lungs let out a wheezing noise whenever you exhaled, and you were beginning to think maybe your asthma was back. Unlike peter you had not been so lucky as to have had it cured by the bite.

Your asthma puffer was one of the few things that survived your apartment being destroyed. As you laid in bed feeling awful you thought back to that day.

You thanked the gods you had been out at the time. You had gone to a coffee shop downtown with your sketchbook, laptop and usual things you took out, including a range of art supplies and of course your emergency puffer which peter had managed to smuggle out which had doses that worked with your metabolism.

You were broken from your daydreams as another harsh coughing fit wracked your body. From what you could hear nobody was in the halls, but you did your best to keep quiet regardless. The wheezing that trailed after each breath was getting worse and your lungs were feeling tight.

You had been trying to use the puffer sparingly so it didn’t run out because you didn’t know if and or when peter could get you another. But as drawing breath grew harder you made the executive call to use it. You rolled over in the bed and threw an arm down to fish around for your red backpack. Finding it you fiddled with the zip before your fingers wrapped around the cool plastic of the device. Tony being tony had insisted it have a Spiderman case thinking it was peters which ended up being rather ironic as it was fitting for you too.

You tried fruitlessly one last time to draw breath before achieving nothing but a crackling wheeze. Screw it. You uncapped the red lid and held it to your lips, propping yourself up on an elbow in an attempt to sit u straight to take it.

You exhaled and inhaled repeating it once more before drawing in a lungful of the super-medicine. Almost straight away you began to feel better. Your fast metabolism speeding up the medicines process.

Feeling like you could breathe again you replaced the cap and put it on the nightstand before curling up in the sheets again feeling cold still but also slightly damp from the thin layer of sweat that had been forming all morning.

You were dressed in spider-man pjs which had a thin t-shirt and long pants. You had considered getting up to grab one of peters hoodies to get warm or another blanket but the idea of standing up made your head spin.

You nestled back into the sheets and let your eyes fall shut despite it being almost midday. The curtains were drawn and so it didn’t bother you too much. You began to drift off into a semi-peaceful sleep broken by harsh coughing fits which were becoming harder to stifle in your half asleep and fevered state.

Meanwhile the avengers had just finished their morning training session, one which Peter had joined for once. Peter being Peter had barely broken a sweat and as a result had opted to hang out on the communal floor while everyone went o freshen up.

Stark had designed the tower well. With Peter’s bedroom being on the same floor as Natasha’s who was rather protective of her younger spider counterpart as well as Wanda’s, Yelena’s, Kate’s and a few spares. The rest of the avengers were a floor above.

At first peter had been a bit miffed about being on a floor of just girls but he ended up liking it a lot. And he had a second bedroom in the master suite with tony and Pepper which he proffered anyway. The one on the avenger's floor was more for if Tony and Pepper were away, and he wanted to be around the others.

Natasha was headed for her room after waving goodbye to peter who had settled down to watch more star-wars, when she paused in the hallway.

Retracing her steps she found herself stood outside peters bedroom door. Frowning she pressed an ear to the door and froze. Someone was inside and coughing. Knowing it wasn’t peter, nat carefully twisted the door handle.

Peter being peter had prepared for almost anything. As soon as Natasha had set foot inside peters room Jarvis had alerted peter of her presence.

Meanwhile Natasha peered into the dimly lit room. The lump in the bed was wriggling around and coughing. Nat was on high alert by now. She realised this person was ill but how had they managed to get in without Jarvis knowing? And why were they in peters bed?

She crossed the threshold and walked over to the bed. Taking note of the backpack on the floor and puffer on the bedside table as well as your spider-man pjs which had been a gag gift from Peter last Christmas.

Nat stood and observed for a second. Looking down at your flushed face which was burning with fever and the harsh coughs that were wracking your weak form.

Nat watched helplessly for a second unsure of how to deal with a sick intruder.

She hesitated before extending a hand to your forehead and feeling a very high fever. She sucked a breath. Despite being an intruder she had some ideas as to why you may have been here. Your likeness to peter wasn’t hard to spot. Yet. She was unsure.

Peeling of the blankets to get a better look at you, as she did you made a small noise of discontent and curled into a shaking ball still fever addled and half asleep.

Before she could continue the door opened and peter looked in.

“Uhh M-Ms Romanoff…” Peter said looking guilty as he stepped in and closed the door again.

“Peter, do you know who this is?” Natasha asked getting straight to the point. Peter hesitated and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Y-yes.” He said looking at your sick form with a frown.

“Peter.” She said crossing her arms. “Care to share whats going on?” Nat said as she headed for Peter’s bathroom.

“Um… She … she’s,, my sister.” Peter said unsurely. Natasha returned after a second and nodded. Now holding the first aid kit from peters bathroom in her arms.

“Anything else i should know?” She asked walking over to the bed and sitting down to rifle through the first aid kit.

“Petey?” You mumbled hearing his voice.

Peter seemed to break out of his trance and came to your side. “I’m here Y/n.” He said.

“‘S cold.” You mumbled making peter frown.

“Actually, I think she has a fever.” Nat said as she found what she was looking for, pulling out a thermometer from the kit.

Nat gently placed the thermometer under your tongue and turned to look at peter.

“Pete, you’re not in trouble but i need some more information.” Natasha said.

“This is Y/n. She’s, my sister. Her apartment was levelled in the last attack and so she’s been staying here ever since. She’s not a threat I promise.” Peter said almost tripping over his words in order to explain.

Before Nat could respond the thermometer beeped and she removed it to look at the small screen, drawing another round of coughs from you. Natasha rubbed your back with one hand while frowning at the screen.

“Peter… she should be dead. This says 106. There’s more isn’t there.” Nat said with some urgency as she began peeling the rest of the blankets off you in an attempt to cool you down.

“Ahh … yes. She had powers. Like mine. She … she wears the suit sometimes.” Peter said standing nearby and watching with a worried expression.

“Ok. So, she has spider powers? High metabolism, super strength, etc.” Nat said and Peter nodded. “Why hasn’t her healing fixed this?” Nat said feeling your forehead again.

“She doesn’t have it. Her powers differ slightly.” Peter explained as Nat cursed softly in Russian.

“Her fever’s still rising.” Nat said making a decision. “We need to cool her down fast before she gets too hot for her own good. Jarvis?” Natasha said and peter looked panicked for a second worried about more people finding out about you.

“Ms Romanoff-“ he started.

“Pete, we need to cool her down stat. I need some help.” She said and peter nodded still looking nervous. “Jarvis call wanda to Peter’s bedroom.” Nat said and peter relaxed slightly. Wanda was ok. She would be good for the situation.

“What are you going to do?” Peter asked.

“She needs a bath and I doubt you want to do that.” She said with a small smirk and Peter flushed for a second.

“Defiantly not.” He said shaking his head.

“Is there someone we can call? Someone who she’d be ok with dressing her once we cool her down. She may be sick but i don’t want to invade her privacy.” Nat said as she scooped you up from the bed and into her lap while they waited for wanda to arrive. You cough harshly again and wheezed making nat frown and look to peter.

“Asthma.” He said.

“Runs in the family huh?” She joked reaching over for the puffer on the bedside table.

“Uh… about that.” Peter said looking guilty. “Mine was cured by the bite. I need the puffers for her.” He said looking sheepish. Expecting Nat to be mad she grinned.

“You’re a good brother.” She said as she uncapped the device and pressed it to your lips.

“Exhale.” She instructed and by some small miracle you complied. When you went to inhale, she administered the medicine and told you to hold.

Recapping the device, she rubbed a hand up and down your arm. “Good job sweetie.” She said and felt you relax into her arms some more as you let out a breath.

The two sat in silence for another second before the door opened again and wanda slipped inside.

She was freshly showered, her hair damp and she smelt like jasmine and honey. She was dressed in a simple faded black t-shirt and grey track pants.

“Whats-“ she began before pausing, her eyes caught on you laid in Natashas lap half asleep.

“Wanda,” Nat said. “Meet Y/n. Peter’s older sister.” She said.

“Okay…” Wanda said looking lost before her expression morphed to concern as you coughed. “Is she ok?” Wanda asked.

“No. That’s why you’re here. Long story short, peter smuggled her into the tower, and she has spider powers and her fever is really high. We need to cool her down.” Nat said and wanda swallowed and nodded. “Peter?” Nat said turning to the younger parker.

“Yes?” He said looking up from where he had been studying his shoes closely.

“You never answered my question. Is there someone we can call to come and get her dressed after wanda and i bathe her?” Nat asked and peter blushed again and nodded.

“I can call May. It’s her day off.” He said and Nat nodded.

“You do that. Wanda and I will look after Y/n. We promise not to go further than her outer clothes.” She said and scooped you up into her arms. She headed for Peter’s bathroom with wanda trailing behind. You remained limp in her arms snuggled into her chest in an unconscious need for companionship.

Once the two redheads had you in the bathroom wanda looked at nat. “Now what?” She asked and Natasha smirked.

“Now we take her clothes off.” She said and gently she lifted your arms from where you were laid on the floor in her lap and pulled the spider-man t-shirt off over your head. Wanda blushed slightly at the sight of your red sports bra despite having seen Nat and herself train in about the same if not less clothes.

“You wanna help?” Nat asked with a grin that only served to make Wanda’s blush deepen. You squirmed slighting in Nat’s lap but stopped when she gently rubbed your arm after you buried your warm face into her stomach.

Wanda rolled her eyes in an attempt to feign nonchalance despite being way past that point.

She lifted her hands, and the familiar red glow of magic surrounded her hands. Her magic lifted your hips so Nat could slide off your pants. Wanda blushed again at the sight of your Black Widow boxers. Natasha however grinned at them finding it both adorable and very cute.

After a beat Wanda met Nat’s eyes again. “Now what?”

“We get her in the bath. She needs to be cooled down Asap.” Nat said hoisting you into her arms again as you wriggled, turning and grumbling into her chest.

“Not gonna lie she’s pretty cute.” Nat said and Wanda avoided her eyes as she used her magic to fill the bath with tepid water.

Natasha gently lowered you into the tub ignoring your whining protests and running her hands through your hair which seemed to calm you down as you relaxed again.

“So … now we wait?” Wanda guessed and Natasha nodded.

“Yep. Unless you really want to steal May’s job of getting her dressed again.” Nat teased making Wanda splutter slightly. “Im kidding.” Nat said. “I know what hot women do to your brain.” She winked and wanda slouched slightly.

After a second you grumbled and blearily opened your eyes, squinting at the two women.

“Peter is so dead.” You mumbled before letting your eyes drift shut again. There was a pause before wanda and nat both started laughing.

You groaned. “Peter!” You yelled before coughing again making Wanda and Nat frown. But before they could do anything the door opened to show a beat red peter with his hands covering his eyes.

“Yes?” He said in a small voice.

“When I get out of here, you’re dead.” You mumbled with a foggy glare sent in his direction.

“Hey. Peter did the right thing.” Another voice said from behind Peter.

“May?” You called. “Oh, wtf is going on right now.” You mumbled.

“Whats going on kiddo is that, once again, you failed to ask for help which landed you here.” May said entering the bathroom with a change of clothes.

“Nice to see you Ms Parker.” Nat said and wanda echoed.

“Please. Call me May. And thank you for looking after her.” May said and you groaned.

“I hate all of you.” You said hiding your face in your hands.

“Uh huh. Sure, you do.” May teased.

“It was no problem. Ms- May.” Wanda said. “We’ll wait in peters bedroom while you… yeah.” Wanda said before making a hasty retreat. Nat laughed and followed her out.

May gave you a disappointed frown once she had shut the door and turned back to you with a sigh.

“Honey.” She said.

“I know… I know.” You said still feeling like death but slightly less so. “Did the black widow and scarlet witch just really see me in my underpants?” You asked.

“Yes, and I serves you right for hiding illness … again!” She said as she came over, rolling up her sleeves and helping you out, practically holding all your weight for you as your head spun.

May frowned and guided you over to the covered toilet seat to dress you again.

Gently she began to towel you off and change you into fresh clothes.

“I can do it myself.” You whined but May shot you a look and you knew better than to challenge the angry Parker and you and peter had called her as kids when she was upset at you for something.

“Now, once you’re dressed you are going to thank those two for their kindness and your coming home with me.” May said.

“But-“ you began.

“No buts.” She said and helped you up, now fully dressed.

She helped you over to the door opening it despite still holding you up. The two of you shuffled into the room where Peter, Nat and Wanda were sat on Peter’s bed talking in hushed voices.

“Pete. I love you but I can hear everything you’re saying dumbass.” You said rolling your eyes and May lightly hit your arm.

“Right.” He said rubbing his neck. “Super hearing.” He nodded.

“I’ll add it to the list.” Nat grinned and you groaned before May jabbed you in the side and looked at the two girls.

You coughed at her actions making her frown but quickly got it under control for the sake of your already fragile image.

“Thank you, Wanda and Natasha, for helping me.” You said still leaning heavily on May. Now you had been standing for a bit the room began to spin. Your face went a shade paler making Natasha frown and stand. It was a split second before you stumbled, almost bringing May down with you in the process. Luckily strong arms wrapped around you, and you looked up into Nat’s pale green and worried eyes.

“Y/n?” You finally registered she was talking to you. “Y/n?” She asked again a little louder.

You let out a soft groan and she huffed. “Right. Up we go.” She said hoisting you into your arms and making the room spin again as you buried your face in her arm.

You felt her gently set you down on the bed and feel your forehead.

Distantly you heard May saying something along the lines of taking you home and the sound of Natasha arguing they were better equipped to help with your powers and sickness. May relented and you went back to dozing.

“What happened?” Peter asked from where he was stood by the door.

“Probably got too dizzy from standing up. Her body’s already trying to fight off sickness.” Natasha said and Wanda nodded.

“Peter? Don’t you have a super high metabolism?” Wanda asked.

“Yeah?” He said looking lost as May seemed to catch on.

“Y/n when did you last eat?” May asked and you groaned and buried your face in the pillow. “Well, that answers that.” May said rolling her eyes.

“Peter, do you have any of those energy bars that steve uses?” Wanda asked and peter nodded and headed for his bedside drawer.

He fished around and pulled out one of them and passed it to nat. She unwrapped it and shoved it into your hands.

“Eat.” She said and you made a groan of protest. “It’ll help.” She said in a softer tone.

“Fine.” You said sitting up against the headboard and nibbling on it slowly.

“Better.” Nat said and you frowned.

“You know you’re cute when you’re mad.” Wanda said looking surprised by her own words and blushing at Natasha’s knowing gaze.

“Get some rest маленький паук” Nat said once you had finished eating, and she begun to shepherd everyone out of the room.

PART 2

[patheticenergy]

Peter Parker in Gotham prompt but it is wingfic Gotham. Not Peter Parker wingfic, but everyone else in the universe.

Everyone thinks someone cut some kids wings off, featuring batman trying to find peter, peter thinks batman is mad about him being a meta so hides and sneaking around, hides in an abandoned building away from weird bird people, rarely leaves his chosen "residence" but whenever he does he gets reverse mugged. Lots of concerned citizens, peter giving out heart attacks like candy by jumping off buildings, peter fits in much smaller spaces then everyone else, peter has to sew the backs of shirts closed due to wing holes, peter has no idea why everyone apologizes to him when they see him. Pure chaos every which way.

Title suggestion: I'm just gonna wing it

[kisses4spidey]

ambush | ☆ミ p. parker

summary - you go to the rooftop of your apartment, a tired spider-man does too. and now you’re accidentally the only person who knows his identity.

genre - fluff, meet cute sorta, fem!nurse!reader x peter, both college-ish age, can be read as any peter but i imagined tasm!peter

warnings - revealed identities, swearing, peter being an idiot, drinking & underage drinking

w.c. - this is awkward… it ain’t that long tho.

a/n - second peter fic!!! hope you enjoy.

A carton of soju, a blanket, and a box of New York cheese pizza.

You thought that maybe going up there, onto the quiet unused rooftop with all of your guilty pleasures would fix it. Fix the stress building on your shoulders, the headache brewing between your eyebrows, the strain behind your eyes.

But it didn’t. Instead it made you question your life, why couldn’t life always be as carefree as pizza on a rooftop?

Why did you choose to be a nurse in a city where crime is a plague and superheroes put people in more danger than the villains.

Where you’ll be the one to stitch them up, insert IV’s, get them the blood they’ve lost, but the superheroes will always be the one to thank.

Thank you, Spider-man, for not letting the elevator land, but sending 10 people with whiplash to the hospital.

You felt a tear roll down your cheek. A wake up call, that’s what you needed.

Still in your light blue scrubs, you opened your first bottle of many with the intention to get drunk and probably fall asleep under the night sky. You wished there were stars up there, but alas you lived in the city where dreams were made of.

You lent against the entrance walls, facing the lowering sun with no worry of having any unwanted visitors. The apartments were mostly occupied by retired couples and families with kids way too young to be allowed at such heights. You sat there for around an hour, letting time pass you but feel equally guilty about how much time you were wasting.

You sighed through the tranquility, until a sudden thump was heard behind you, and a sudden man was slumped again the rooftop door.

His face was mostly hidden by messy, mousy brown hair, and his entire body was wrapped in what seemed to be some sort of… spider-man suit.

He clutched a mask in his hands, and your eyes widened as he turned his face towards you.

The man was equally as terrified.

“Oh my god!” You covered your mouth and jumped to your feet. Spider-man hurried to cover his face with his mask, and you were both left in silence.

You wiped your cheeks of any tears, suddenly aware of your appearance and situation. He was handsome, too bad you hated him.

“I already saw your face.” You faced Spider-man, eyes scanning his hidden features like it’s the last thing you’ll see. The boy tugged his mask off and puffed his cheeks, looking down in self-disappointment.

Spiderman gave up, “You can’t tell anyone.” His voice cracked slightly at the end but was surprisingly deep for how young he looked. You assumed he was your age, maybe a year younger.

You scoffed and exclaimed, “I can’t tell anyone? You just saw a nurse who pumps stomachs every day drink three bottles of beer in 50 minutes!”

His eyebrows lowered and he grinned, “I actually didn’t see that so you just exposed yourself.”

“Oh, you wanna talk about being exposed?” You huffed out your chest and stared at him.

The rooftop went silent. His eyes crawled over your face and you copied him. He had faint freckles, a stronger nose with a bump and long eyelashes. You felt the suited man’s stare like a shot of venom, a blush creeping onto the tips of your ears as he stretched the silence on.

“I’m Peter Parker.” He held his hand out, red suit stretching in a way you would only see from this close up.

“You’re insane, and digging your own hole here.” You kept your left hand by your side and your right hand in the pocket of your scrub’s shirt. Peter chuckled and walked closer to you, making you step back.

“Look, you already saw my face. You’re bound to see me again, especially since you’re a nurse and I’m a superhero.”

“Did you seriously just call yourself a superhero.”

“I own it, and I am not the one to be judged right now.”

“Oh a girl can’t have a few drinks after a 12 hour shift?”

He shrugged, “I guess not.”

“And it’s not like you make it any easier.” You mumble.

“What?” He asked, lowering his eyebrows. He didn’t know he had made beef with the medical system.

“Well, not just you but every “superhero”. You save people from imminent death, yes, but I don’t think you realise how many of them end up dying from the effects. Broken ribs that puncture lungs, permanent spinal damage, not to mention the mental toll being in the crossfire of those kinds of things. Also, everyone always says thank you to you guys, when it’s like. Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t realise the Hulk could stitch your head back together so skillfully with those big ass hands! Also!-“ You stop. You’ve started rambling, talking the most you have in a long time.

He clenches his jaw, and nods.

It went silent again, you glanced down to your drinks sat on the concrete floor. "You're legal." You said as if you were confident about it. "I'm 20." He responded. "Close enough."

Both of you sat down, backs against the entrance wall, facing the sunset. He grabbed a drink as you picked up your half empty one, he opened his like it was a water bottle cap. Peter glanced down to your pizza box and quietly scoffed, "You don't eat the crust?" "Only weirdos do." You saw his hand grab two out the corner of your eye, and you turned to watch him take a large bite out of one. Mouth half full, he responded, "I guess I'm a weirdo then."

You scoff back and turn to face the nearly absent sun. He had been distracting you from your wallowing, and now the sun wasn't there to keep you awake. Maybe your plans of falling asleep up there was ruined, maybe-

"Why were you crying?" The question stuns you for a second. You don't exactly know how to respond, nobody ever asks you that. "Why do you care?" He swallowed the last of his second crust, "Because I'm your friendly neighbourhood spi-" You hold a pointer finger up and cringe, "Don't even finish that sentence." You sighed, "It's just work and I guess..." "Yeah?" He says quietly, wanting you to continue. "I don't have a lot of people to talk to."

Now that surprised him. You were so easy to talk to, to reason with, to have banter already (even if it was passive aggresive). He wouldn't have been surprised if you had multiple best friends trying to talk you into going to a party that night. His eyebrows furrowed slightly as he took another crust. "I guess you did try to make fun of me the second I got here-" "Oh I did not." You turn to see him grinning, obviously joking. Oh.

You cleared your throat and yearned to change the subject, "So, I guess being spiderman's pretty special, huh?"

"Yeah, I guess." "You guess?" "Well, I mean, look at this." He raises his pointer finger and brings your attention to a slice of dried blood on his forehead. "Oh. How'd that happen?" "Simple bank robbery." He shrugged, taking a sip. "Simple." You nodded along, and it went silent again. Some pigeons landed on the concrete barriers that tilted their heads at the pair. A suited superhero, a slightly drunk nurse.

The sun was barely a slither now, the sky blue and orange at the rim. He muffles a chuckle under his breath. You turn to him with a glare.

He looks at you, and you gulp, "I thought you'd offer to clean it. Seeing as though you're a nurse." He motions to your scrubs.

You laugh mockingly, "I'm not taking a stranger into my apartment, even if they're a superhero, or know more than me than what I'd like."

"I sound like a friend." "What's my name, Peter Parker?" He faced you with his mouth slightly opened. And then closed it. He never asked. He took your crust, your beer, and your peace, but he didn't take down your name.

You started to speak, but a loud buzzing somewhere around Spiderman's body, and he sighed. The brunet stood up lazily and took the last swig of soju.

"Gotta go. What happens on this rooftop stays on this rooftop." He smiles, nearing the edge of the rooftop. Its nighttime now, his red suit starkly contrasting with the blue night sky. "Stay safe, don't drink and swing." You both nod at each other before he turns to face the ground. "Wait!"

You stood up, spiderman mask in hand. It was a weird elastic, plasticy metal that you had never felt before. You almost wanted to keep it. "Your mask." You threw it, and he caught it. "Nice throw." "Nice catch."

The tall hero leant off the rooftop, in a way that made your heart race with faux fear that you were also falling. He nods to you before he vanishes, and it looks like he’s trying to say thank you. And you smile, for the first time in many days.

[theatrical-penguin]

Everyone needs the occasional vacation, right?

Parker! What have we said about taking jobs on your own?!

(BBC News 26-8-2023 - High-altitude heist shocks Switzerland)

[amorchai]

𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐌!𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔.

written for my old blog but never posted!

pairing(s): tasm!peter parker x reader

words: 873

warnings/tags: proposal + nervous pete.

peter was surprised you hadn’t caught on yet. anytime you held his hand, he was terrified when you would ask if he’s okay, having noticed him shaking and sweating, anytime he would speak to you he would stutter but after asking him if he was alright, you would shrug it off when he replies, ‘course.’

all he would say was that he was overwhelmed from the party, people around the house as a gathering on the same day as your anniversary with peter. while one hand held yours, his other was stuffed in his pocket where his finger ran over the ring box. 

gwen winking at him knowingly as he smiles back scared, no one else in the party knowing that peter was hopefully going to have a fiancée by the end of the night.  

“are you sure you’re okay?” peter drags his eyes away from watching his feet slightly kick the tiled floor in your shared kitchen, jumping in surprise while you lightly tug his hand for him to focus. “what—? oh, yeah. yeah i am, baby. i just— i’m just slightly overwhelmed.”

it wasn’t too busy, just some friends and family over, music not too loud, but you knew his heightened senses meant he could get easily agitated by these things. “do you want to step outside for five? we could go up to the roof?” you ask. 

“hm?” he mumbles again, eyes looking back at the floor before back at you, “oh— um. s-sure, that would be great, thank you,” he replies, watching your expression which continuously grows more worried. he doesn’t understand why he is this nervous.

but as you begin to walk out of the kitchen, pulling him behind you and politely passing people with a small, “we’ll be right back,” peter realises that it was the moment it was going to happen. he knew you both wouldn’t want it to happen in front of everyone, a quiet moment on the roof atop their flat where everyone they love was waiting downstairs sounded perfect. 

you didn’t speak again until you opened the door to the roof, entering the airy space and looking onto the city of new york, dark skies contrasting with the lights within windows of buildings and on the busy streets, “that’s better.”

peter felt like he could breathe again, the wind floating past as he takes a deep breath, walking beside you as you near the rooftop edge, leaning against the wall. your shoulders touch as you lean in close to him, peter watching you as you gaze around the city in front of you. 

your hair breathing against the wind, your eyes slightly squinted as well and peter can’t help but lean in to kiss your cheek gently. 

you smile, turning your head to look at him, “you okay, spidey?” you ask him, hand re-finding his as you lace your fingers together with affection. “never better,” he replies, both of you smiling at each other giddily before instinctively leaning in to kiss you softly. 

both of your bodies turn to each other, peter’s spare hand tangling slightly into your hair as he pours all his love he has for you into the kiss, overwhelmed at the feeling of what’s to come, and you don’t even know yet. 

you lightly gasp once he pulls away, both hands moving to settle against his chest as you catch your breath, peter tucking a few strands of your hair behind your ear as he watches, “i have something i wanted to ask you.” 

nodding, you feel your eyebrows tug together as you wordlessly usher him to ask and peter feels nauseous and light headed as he reaches into his pocket to pull out the ring box.

you look down where his hand was, eyes widening slightly as your hands cover your mouth while gasping. peter steps back before falling onto one knee and opening the box, “i’ve been nervous this entire night to ask but after waiting for years, i don’t think i can wait another minute from asking you to marry me.”

he rambles slightly, yet able to not tumble over his words as he speaks, peter’s eyes gazing into your tear-filled eyes, his not far behind. “so, will you marry me, y/n?” he asks. 

his cheeks hurt from the widest grin plastered on his when you nod before saying, “of course i will,” he goes to reach into the ring box but before he can take it out he feels you collapse into his arms, pulling into a tight hug as you both begin to cry. 

peter’s arms secure you to him, one holding the back of your head while the other gently across your waist while grasping the box. “i love you, i love you so much,” peter repeats into your hair lowly, both of your faces wet from tears as the exciting next step in your relationship begins.

finally, you pull back as you both stand from your kneeling positions and you both laugh together through slight sobs as peter slides the ring onto your finger. you both keep laughing together, in disbelief as he uses his thumbs to caress the tears away from your cheeks before leaning in to kiss you again.

amorchai masterlist . taglist

amorchai © ─ all rights reserved. no reposting/translating/copying will be tolerated.

[brokebonewritings]

Dinnertime Confessions

Matt Murdock x Reader

Tags: 18+, Slice of Life, Fluff, Domestic Bliss

Summary: You invite your cousin Peter over for dinner. Peter and Matt become aware of each other's after hour hobbies. Song: Young Tonight by Plain White T's

Word Count: 1.2K

Navigation | Series Masterlist

Peter shifts in his seat uncomfortably as the silence around the table becomes deafening. It felt like the air was just hanging. You had invited your cousin over to have dinner with Matt and yourself since they seemed to hit it off well on their first encounter. Maybe it was some weird teenager thing.

You clear your throat and turn to Peter, “How’s school going? You’re at that fancy tech school right?”

“Oh!” He jumps in his seat a bit, “Yeah, Midtown High. Yeah! It’s great, I love it there.”

You nod happily and turn my head to look at Matt. He also looks very uncomfortable but in his own grumpy pout. You tap his leg under the table and see a soft smile replace his frown.

“A-are you guys planning any wedding stuff yet?” Peter asks quietly, and you smile.

“Not yet, but I will call Aunt May when we do!” you reply, “I know you both want to be apart of the process.”

“Of course! You’re our family.” He says simply.

Matt then clears his throat, “So, Peter, Do any sports or extracurriculars?”

Silence falls over the table at his sudden question. You look to my cousin who looks extremely uncomfortable.

“Pete, you alright?” You ask

“Huh?” He says coming out of his small daze, “Oh! Yeah! I’m fine… Uh I do Academic Decathlon, and I intern…”

“You intern?” You ask, “Where at?”

“Stark Industries.”

“Huh.” Matt lets out.

“Okay, what is going on with the both of you?” You finally ask, looking between your cousin and Matt.

Earlier that evening

“You’re on the wrong side of New York, Spiderman.”

Daredevil stood on the rooftop near your apartment. The unwelcome visitor sat on the light fixture nearby. It wasn’t every day the web slinger was around Hell’s Kitchen

“Sorry, Mr. Devil. Was just in the area!” He replied.

“Don’t stay too long, it’s not safe for a kid like you.”

“What? Hey man, I’m not a kid!”

Yes he was. Matt knew exactly who Spiderman was. Thanks to his “super devil hearing” as you liked to call it. 

It took one Spiderman visit after meeting your cousin for Matt to figure out who it was. Was he surprised? Yes, very. Did he trust Spiderman? Not in the slightest. Did he trust Peter Parker? The boy had his charm.

“Get back to Queens, Kid.”

“I’ll have you know that I’m looking out for someone.” Spiderman said sternly. “So I'm just gonna hang out for 15 more minutes then I'll leave, promise!”

Matt sighed loudly before nodding. “You have 15 minutes. Then get out of my part of town.” With that, he disappeared into the smoke.

Weird dude. Peter thought. He didn’t normally don his webslinger outfit in Hell’s Kitchen, but he figured he would patrol before having dinner with his favorite cousin. 

He still couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched though. Deciding it was time to head to your place, he swung to the top of your building and changed into his streetwear.

Peter rushes down the stairs to your floor and enters your hallway. Stopping dead in his tracks, he sees a familiar figure standing next to your door. It was Matt, dressed in what seemed to be his work attire.

“Hey Matt!” Peter called out and ran down the hall. He saw the older man turn to him with a frown on his face.

“We need to talk.” He said simply, causing Peter to stumble a bit.

“Yeah, sure. Everything okay?”

“I know who you are, Peter Parker.” The gruff voice replies. “I know you’re Spider-Man.”

“Huh?”

Peter felt his heart stop at Matt's words. He had always been cautious about revealing his identity to anyone outside of his close circle, and the fact that Matt, his cousin’s fiancé, knew his secret was unsettling.

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Peter tried to play it cool. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Matt. I'm just a regular high school student."

Matt's expression remained impassive, his blind eyes seemingly staring right through Peter. "Don't insult my intelligence, kid. I can hear the timber of your voice clear as day.”

The teen realized that there was no point in denying it any longer. He nodded slowly,

"Okay, fine. You caught me. I'm Spider-Man."

Matt nodded in acknowledgment before speaking again. "You need to tell your cousin.”

“What? No way!”

“You never know, they might be more accepting of it than most people.”

“I can’t! I can’t, not now, not ever.”

Matt sighs, “Do it, or I will.”

“No! Wait, please!” Peter grabs Matt’s wrist. “Does she know about you?”

“Of course.”

Peter stands back for a moment, thinking, Matt’s words echoing. He’s brought back to reality as you nudge his arm.

“Peter, what’s going on?” You push gently. “Are you alright?”

He stands quickly. “I think I have to go!”

“What?”

“Yeah, Like tons of homework and band practice.”

“It's Saturday at 8pm.”

Matt stands suddenly, “Wait.”

You and Peter turn to look at Matt as he gets up.

“He’s upset because of me.” He confesses, “I may have run into him earlier while coming back home from…work.”

Peter shifts uncomfortably as you turn to look at him.

“You know about…”

“Yes.” He starts, “but…I…”

He trails off and you place a hand on his shoulder.

“I have a secret too.” He continues. “I did see Matt…but only because I was also ‘working’”

He lowers his head and you nod in understanding. “So you too?…”

The younger man nods and looks up at you, “I’m Spider-Man.”

You stand there gawking at Peter for a moment before turning to Matt. He stood quietly as you and Peter had this interaction.

“Matt…did you?…”

“No.” he says roughly before you turn back to Peter.

“Does Aunt May know?”

“No! At least, not yet…”

As you stood there, trying to wrap your head around the situation, Peter glanced nervously between you and Matt. Your fiance’s presence beside you was a grounding force as you processed this new reality. You glance at Peter and you can see the fear in his eyes. The uncertainty of how you would respond to his truth was evident. Taking a deep breath, you stepped forward and enveloped Peter in a tight hug.

"I'm proud of you, Peter," you whispered, your voice filled with emotion. "I can't imagine the weight you've been carrying on your shoulders all this time."

Peter was taken aback by your response, his eyes widening in surprise. Slowly, he returned the hug, feeling a wave of relief wash over him at your acceptance.

“I just… I was scared how you would react, and I don’t want to put you in danger.” Peter mumbled, his voice muffled by the embrace.

You pulled back slightly to look into Peter's eyes, a reassuring smile on your face. "You're family, Peter. And family supports each other no matter what.”

Matt stepped forward, placing a hand on Peter's shoulder. “I told you she would be understanding.”

Peter let out a nervous chuckle, feeling lighter than he had in a long time.

After dinner, you all washed the kitchen and sent Peter home with leftovers. When you and Matt were finally alone and settled in bed you finally said, “I knew this whole time.”

You see Matt’s lips form into a smile, “Heard us through the door?”

A small laugh escapes your lips.

“Yeah, you both are really loud for stealth heroes.”

join my taglist! || Taglist: @alexxavicry @moncherriis @vioplay19 @skulliecadaver-blog @emma23

[classicfilmblr]

DOUGLAS FAIRBANKS in THE BLACK PIRATE — 1926, dir. Albert Parker The most celebrated sequence of the film, and perhaps of Fairbanks's entire career, is the moment in which the Black Pirate, when capturing a galleon single-handedly, slashes a line with his knife, catches the end of the mizzen, and swings upward with the wayward sail to the main topsail. He then plunges his knife in to the canvas of the topsail and slides down the sail, supported by the hilt of his knife as it severs the canvas in half. He rends the mainsail in the same manner. The feat is so spectacular that Fairbanks repeats it once more with the fore topsail, rendering the ship powerless. The Black Pirate swings through the lines to the forecastle, swivels about a pair of cannons he has commandeered, and holds the crew as helpless as the galleon itself.

The sliding down the sails is a grand stunt, building on Robin Hood's celebrated descent down the enormous drapery in Robin Hood [1922]. The 43-year-old showman is in top physical form, and the appearance of effortlessness, the breathtaking arcs of movements, and the sheer joy with which he accomplishes the impossible are ample demonstrations of Fairbanks's kinetic genius.

The sequence was achieved with separate sail sets engineered by Robert Fairbanks on the back lot, apart from various ship settings, and erected on an angle away from the cameras (which were also on an angle). The sails, according to Douglas Fairbanks, Jr., were "pre-sliced and then stitched up invisibly. . . .The knife was rigged with piano wire, pulley, and counterweight. . . .He would thrust his knife into the sail and there would be a quick cut. The next cut would be of him holding the special knife connected to the hidden pulley and counterweight."

Airplane propellers behind the canvas provided the billowing effect for the sails. As with all of his stunts, Fairbanks wore a wire harness, and his arms and legs were taped to prevent friction burns. Although no one doubted at the time that he performed the stunt, William K. Everson later maintained that Fairbanks did not do so himself. But the accounts of Albert Parker, Douglas Fairbanks, Jr., and Chuck Lewis and the surviving outtakes from the scene itself dispel any claim that Fairbanks did not perform his most famous feat. Fairbanks's bravura stunt was subsequently pirated by a stunt double for Errol Flynn in Against All Flags (1952) and by Orlando Bloom in Pirates of the Caribbean 2: Dead Man’s Chest (2006).

One of the immediate effects of the famous sequence was all the injuries sustained by impressionable children imitating their screen idol. Edward Wagenknecht wrote, "One shudders to think how many broken arms and legs he must have been responsible for among the children of America during the years of his vogue." Robert Parrish, a future director and film editor, was one such child. He recalled having seen The Black Pirate in his hometown of Columbus, Georgia, and immediately wanting to emulate the spectacular Fairbanks stunt:

"As a seven-year-old, I had seen Douglas Fairbanks in The Black Pirate plunge a knife into the sail and riding the knife down to the deck. I tried the knife stunt myself that afternoon with a borrowed linen bed sheet. Some friends and I attached it to the limb of an oak tree about ten feet off the ground. I climbed the tree with a butcher's knife in my mouth trying to smile like Fairbanks—I soon tasted blood in my mouth—and pointed the knife at the sheet and jumped. The sheet crashed down upon me like a deflated parachute and the knife flew out of my hand. I landed on the ground with a broken arm, the wind knocked out of me, and blood running from my Fairbanks grin."

[hearts4court]

A/N: i randomly thought abt this. idk why. also, this is an apology for not writing for awhile, been going through some stuff :p

SORRY IF ITS CORNY > <

Peter Parker X afab!reader.

bf!peter who buys you flowers for events. (grad, birthday, valen. day, easter, anniversaries, etc.)

bf!peter who visits you after his patrols, jumps through your window to bother you. sometimes, if your asleep, he’ll climb into bed ieth you because he missed his princess :(

bf!peter who just loves you so much that during the day, out of school and when he’s on daytime patrol, he’ll just kinda follow you around and watch you. with your friends? he’s watching from a building nearby. By yourself at a coffee spot? he’s still watching you. in your room? still watching.

bf!peter who drops to his knees and begs for forgiveness after missing a date night because of patrolling or stopping a bank robbery. something like that. he’s hugging your legs and begging.

“baby, m’really really sorry. i lost track of time and i just—“Peter tried to say as you huffed and cut him off, very upset because he missed your one month date night,

because of him being spider-man, the two of you have date night at LEAST once a month. To accommodate to both.

but of course, peter forgot. You believed him obviously. The poor boy was all over the place, but you were still upset because he promised not to miss this one, like he did last month.

you huffed,”You always do that. Missing and forgetting our dates like they’re nothing.” you mumble.

“i said i was sorry, i’ll make it up to you. i-i promise.”he said with a pout and puppy dog eyes which ultimately made you kinda feel bad for being mad at him.

“don’t gimme that look.”you whine, crossing your arms as Peter continued to hug your legs on his knees in front of you. He smiled cheekily,”what look?” he asked innocently.

“keep sitting like that and i’m taking a picture to embarrass you to your friends.”you mutter. Peter rolled his eyes playfully, “i have no shame.”he said, still letting his head rest on your knees.

you huff, knowing that. He’s dropped to his knees in front of you at school before. That’s how people discovered that you two were together.

“fine. i forgive you.”you mumble as he smiles brightly. which made your heart melt immediately, but he couldn’t know that,”*don’t get to excited. if you fuck up again, i’m telling your Aunt.”you say making him snicker.

“yes ma’am.”he said, kissing your hands making you smile slightly.

Don’t copy, translate or repost any of my work w/o my permission.

[lovelettersforthedamned]

ugh I love the way you write frat Peter <3333 am thinking of how he would react when his frat brothers flirt with his girl jus to rile him up - ❄️❄️

A Little Reminder

--genre: fluff, slight smut, MINORS DNI.

--pairing: frat!tasm!peter parker x f!reader

--word count: 1.4k

--warnings: language, kisses, slight smut, mention of hickeys, fluff!!!

love this request! i have something similar (more angsty) if you want more, "Let Me Be There, Let Me Be Yours".

You were drained, to say the least. Your last lecture wiped you out, followed by a tutoring session to bring up your plummeting English Literature grade. Peter’s the one to blame for that one. Sure, you scheduled an early morning class knowing that it would be hard to get there, but Peter keeping you hostage in bed also didn’t help. 

As you walk back to your apartment, you’re mentally cursing him knowing that you’ll realistically not do anything about it. With your headphones blocking out the world around you, your only goal was to get home and to Peter. Your bed calls out for you. 

Switching songs, an arm is suddenly wrapped around your shoulders, making you jump out of your skin. Pulling off one side of your headphones, you look towards the person whose arm is around you, finding one of Peter’s frat brothers grinning widely at you. You barely have time to deal with whatever is going on, but still decide to play along not to seem rude, “Bryce, what the fuck is going on?”

“Oh nothing,” he replied nonchalantly, his arm still on your shoulders, “ just walking you home, that’s all.” His tone still holds one of a joke, but now that you’re approaching your apartment he still doesn’t give up.

You can’t help but laugh and scoff, you wonder how long he’ll keep this up. Ducking out of his hold, you stand in front of him, “I didn’t ask you to do that, but thank you so much for your generosity, Bryce. Your heart must be so so big!” You bring a hand up to his shoulder and pat it a few times, “I’ll make sure to tell Pete about this. Just to let him know how caring you are.”

“You do that, (Y/N)! I cannot wait to hear back from him,” his smile is wide still, but sarcasm drips off of his tongue. 

You start to walk up the stairs to your building, waving Bryce goodbye as you giggle to yourself. He’s going to get an earful the next time he sees Peter. 

****

“Hi, Pete! I’m home,” you call out as you close and lock the door behind you. It doesn’t take long before you hear heavy footsteps approach you from the bedroom, Peter’s disheveled state greeting you. He’s shirtless, his boxers the only thing on his body, but you’re not complaining. Peter’s even wearing his glasses, which is a rarity recently. You’ve noticed he only wears them around you. 

As he approaches you, he takes your school bag and your headphones, placing them on the couch before he envelopes you in a bone-crushing hug. You breathe in his scent, the natural musk combined with his body wash makes you melt. Your ear is placed directly on his heart, the rhythmic beat acting as a lullaby. You look up at him again, craving to see him in his glasses again to see that he’s already looking at you. You stand on your toes to reach his lips, catching him off guard in a kiss that he quickly gets accustomed to. His lips are slightly chapped. 

Pulling away he sighs, giving your lips one more quick peck, “How was class, bug?” Brushing a piece of hair that fell into your eyes away, he holds the side of your face. 

“It was long and boring,” you close your eyes, the mere thought of it reeling in another wave of exhaustion, “but guess who I ran into on the way home?” You pull away from his hold to walk over to the kitchen, Peter following loosely behind you. There are a few beats of silence as he goes through the list of who it could be, but he soon gives up with a sigh. “Bryce fucking Quinn,” you reveal.

He leans against the cabinet as you reach into the fridge for a bottle of water, his eyes widening, “I haven’t seen him in a while. How is he?” 

“He’s good,” you open the cap and take a sip, before dropping the bomb on him, “he’s very nice.”

This sparks Peter’s interest, his head cocking to the side as his brows furrowed in confusion, “Oh really?” Your impression of him shocks him. He knows Bryce Quinn to be a jokester, he’s never taken anything seriously, and if he did, it was always because it was part of a running bit that he carried. 

You smirk as you take another sip, trying not to reveal how amused you are, “Yeah, he even walked me home! He even threw his arm over me to make sure I got here safe.” You leave Peter to go into the bathroom, the sudden urge to pee coming over you.

Peter’s once relaxed demeanor was now one of rigid shock, he once again followed you. “What do you mean ‘threw his arm over you’?” You’re sitting on the toilet when Peter opens the door and stands directly in front of you, looking for answers. 

“You need me to answer that right now?”

“Well,” he doesn’t see anything wrong with asking right now, “when else am I gonna ask you?” He’s dead serious too. 

Reaching for the toilet paper, you gather a few pieces, “Maybe when I’m not actively on the toilet?” 

He finally comes to his senses as he turns around, facing the wall, and leaving you to do your business. “It’s not like I haven’t seen every part of you before,” he adds, before turning back around when he hears the toilet flush and the sink run as you wash your hands. 

Washing your hands, you look into the mirror only to see Peter behind you, giving you a scare. “If you’re really worried about this babe, you know you shouldn’t,” you dry your hands off on the towel next to the sink. Turning around to face your worried and slightly angry boyfriend, you reach up to hold his face, his head slightly flinching away from your cold hands, you giggle, “Shit, sorry!” 

Pulling down his face, you kiss his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck as his hands find their home on your waist. The kiss slowly gets needier, causing Peter’s hands to lower down to under your thighs, hoisting you onto the counter, his arms caging you in as he places both of his hands on either side of your head. Your fingers are weaving themselves in his hair, slightly tugging on it, causing a soft moan to escape his lips. You pull away, his lips chasing yours as you back away. “Peter,” you whine. 

He’s not listening, his only objective was connecting your lips again. He’s panting as he responds, his voice breathy, “Yeah, baby?” You can’t help but smirk at his current state. It seems like he forgot all about your previous conversation. 

As you tilt your head back and forth to look into his eyes, he follows. His lips are desperate for your touch, and it shows. You grab his chin, forcing him to look into your eyes, “Don’t be too hard on Bryce when you see him next.” 

Peter groans as he tilts his head back away from your touch, a breathy chuckle leaving him, “Why are we still talking about Bryce when I’m so close to taking you back to bed?” 

You blush at his response, “I’m just saying…I don’t need to be the damsel in distress when it comes to you, Petey.” Peter brings his hands down to scoop under your thighs once again, pulling you up to his chest, making you wrap both your arms and legs around him to not fall, a big smile on your face.

“Oh, bug,” he starts to walk to your bedroom, “you’re never the damsel in distress. But sometimes they need a little reminder that you aren’t theirs to play with, are you?” You shake your head in response, the heat in your cheeks starting to pool lower on your body. “And sometimes they forget that,” he places you gently on the bed. 

Peter can’t help but admire you as you lay in front of him. Pulling off his glasses and tossing them to the side, he kneels on the bed to kiss you again, leaving a few marks on your neck to serve as a physical reminder to those around you. Bryce is so fucked. 

--author's note: I LOVE FRAT!PETER AND I'M SO HAPPY YOU LOVE HIM TOO ❄️ ANON!!!!!! this got a little spicy at the end and i'm so sorry i have no idea what happened LMAOO. don't forget to like, comment, and reblog. my 300 follower celebration is happening now, so don't forget to send things in!! rules are pinned to my blog!!! ok, ily bye <333

[certaimromance]

✮ Bittersweet Sixteen.

TASM!Peter Parker x Kindergarden teacher!reader

main masterlist

Summary: After weeks of not speaking, you need Peter to do you a favor and put his suit back on. But the last thing you expected was to find your heart beating for him again, just like in high school.

Words: 4,2k.

Warnings & Tags: fem!reader. lack of communication. friends to lovers. pure fluff. first kiss yep. temporarily located years after the last movie, peter has already graduated from college and left the life of a superhero. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: I have had this in my drafts since I started writing here (months ago) and it makes me very happy to be able to stop correcting it a thousand times and publish it.

Your office was your sanctuary. It was the only space in the entire school that offered a reprieve from the chaos—quiet, orderly, and a place where you could drink hot coffee in peace, without worrying about a child knocking it over. But today, everything about the space felt…off. Your desk, usually neat and meticulously arranged, was cluttered, a bag sitting on top that didn’t belong to you. The air was tense, charged with unspoken words. And most notably, you weren’t alone.

Peter Parker sat in the chair across from you, hunched over slightly as he fought with the too-snug sleeves of his old Spiderman suit. The blue and red fabric was wrinkled from years of disuse, clinging to him as though it, too, was reluctant to let go of the past. His hair was mussed from pulling the mask off earlier, and his expression was a mix of concentration and awkwardness as he avoided your gaze.

The last time you’d seen him was on your date—a surprisingly pleasant evening at a restaurant that had intimidated you at first with its crystal chandeliers and white tablecloths. You’d laughed more than you expected, found small moments of genuine connection beyond that of usual friendship, and left the night feeling a little lighter, a little more hopeful. It ended with a polite goodbye and a brief, somewhat hesitant hug. It made you think of the teenage girl you used to be, who had a crush on him back in high school. It might have been silly, but you felt butterflies, and you were sure he did too.

But then…nothing. No calls. No texts. You’d waited, your phone practically glued to your hand, each notification making your heart jump. Days turned into weeks, and the silence between you solidified, leaving you wondering if perhaps the connection had only been one-sided. Now, he had come to your work, yes—but not for you. At least, not in the way you’d once imagined.

It was all because one of your students was the biggest Spiderman fan you had ever met, and that was quite a lot for a kid who had practically lived more without the superhero in action than with him saving lives and walking between buildings. It was only a matter of time before you had a lightbulb moment.

“You know,” Peter said suddenly, his voice breaking the heavy quiet, “I don’t think this suit has seen daylight in years.” He tugged at the sleeve, grimacing when it resisted. “Either it shrank, or I grew. Both are bad options.”

The corner of your mouth twitched, a reluctant smile forming despite the tension. “It’s probably the suit. Lycra has a way of holding grudges if you don’t treat it right.”

Just like me, you thought. You still were trying to remind yourself that he was just there to surprise one of your students and that it wasn't about you or your friendship.

“Yeah,” he admitted, looking down at the suit. “It’s been a few years, at least. I’ve been busy…you know, at the lab.”

You stepped closer, reaching out instinctively to smooth the fabric along his shoulder. The action was small, but the proximity sent a wave of awareness through you. His shoulders were broader than you remembered—had he always carried himself with this quiet strength?

Damn, you had to concentrate. Really.

“Right,” you said softly, focusing on adjusting the suit. “The lab. I know…but you’re still good at the hero thing. Showing up, being there for people. That’s kind of the most important part, right?”

He looked up at you then, his brown eyes catching yours, a flicker of something unspoken passing between you. For a moment, he seemed on the verge of saying something, but the words didn’t come. Instead, he offered a lopsided smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Well, I couldn’t say no. Not to you.”

Your fingers paused on the cuff of his sleeve. The words were simple, but they landed heavily, stirring something in your chest that you weren’t quite ready to name. It was probably your heart exploding, just like when he would pass you in the hallways at school and accidentally brush your shoulder against his or when I smiled at you suddenly and said that you looked good. It was deja vu. A big one.

“You didn’t have to,” you replied, stepping back to create some distance. “I wouldn’t have blamed you if you’d been too busy.” Just like how you were these weeks, not to call me.

“Too busy for Spiderman’s number one fan? That’d be a pretty lame excuse.” His attempt at humor was there, but his tone carried an undercurrent you couldn’t quite decipher—something apologetic, maybe even regretful.

You folded your arms, creating a barrier you hoped would steady you before talking. “Jamie’s going to lose his mind when he sees you,” you said, your tone deliberately light. “It’s the perfect birthday surprise.”

His face softened at the mention of your student, and he seemed genuinely grateful for the change in topic. “Jamie,” he repeated, testing the name on his tongue. “You said he’s, what, five? Six?”

“He turned six today,” you corrected, a small smile tugging at your lips. “And completely obsessed with you—well, with Spiderman. He spends half his recess pretending to swing between buildings, and his favorite art project this year was a crayon drawing of you fighting a giant lizard. It’s hanging on the bulletin board outside the classroom if you want to see it.”

“Now I definitely have to see it,” Peter said, his grin returning. “Sounds like my toughest critic.”

“Hardly,” you replied, the warmth in your tone surprising even yourself. “He thinks you walk on water. You’re going to make his entire year just by walking into that classroom with his birthday cake.”

He shifted in his seat, his usual boyish charm dimming slightly as he looked at you. “You’re the one making this happen. You didn’t have to ask me to do this. It means a lot, you know. That you thought of me.”

The weight of his words settled between you, making your heart tighten. There was something in his tone—earnest, maybe even vulnerable—that made it hard to look away. You knew better than anyone how much the decision to give up the hero role had cost him, how many times you two had talked about whether this was his true purpose in life.

“Of course I thought of you,” you said softly, and then, more hesitantly, “I mean, you’re Spiderman. Who else was I going to call for this?”

Parker chuckled, but there was a note of self-deprecation in the sound. That was not an answer to be expected, no matter how obvious it was.

“Yeah. Spiderman. Right.” He hesitated, his fingers brushing against the edge of the mask sitting on your desk. “I just…I didn’t think you’d call me at all. After, you know...”

There it was. The thing neither of you had been brave enough to address until now. Why? Why? Why?

The words hung in the air, thick with the weight of everything unspoken. You could feel the silence closing in, like the pause between breaths right before a storm breaks. His eyes—those warm, familiar chocolate eyes—seemed to be searching yours, as if waiting for some kind of answer, but you couldn’t quite find the words. He was your friend, your best friend, someone you could tell anything to. But now, nothing coherent can really come out of your mouth.

You shifted uncomfortably, the tension in the room almost unbearable. Your heart thudded against your ribs, and you knew you had to break the silence. But now wasn’t the time. Not in this place. Not like this.

“Let’s…let’s focus on Jamie, okay?” you blurted, your voice coming out sharper than you intended, almost a little too loud for the small space.

He blinked, clearly startled by the sudden shift, and for a moment, you both just stared at each other.

“Right, Jamie,” Peter echoed, giving you a smile that was a little too tight, a little too cautious. He shifted, standing up from the chair, and the air around you seemed to settle just a little.

You cleared your throat, stepping back, your gaze flicking to the clock on your wall. “He’s going to lose his mind when he sees you walk through that door.”

He looked at you, his lips twitching at the corners, though the tension in his eyes didn’t fully fade. “You’re sure you don’t want me to do a big dramatic entrance? Swing through the window or something?”

You laughed, though it felt a little strained. “Let’s keep it simple, okay? We don’t want to traumatize any of my kids.”

He chuckled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He moved towards the door, and for a second, you hesitated. He was still wearing the suit—his Spiderman suit, the one that had once made him a legend in your eyes. But now, as you stood there, a thought nagged at the back of your mind. The suit was a part of him, yes, but so was the mask. The mask was his identity, the thing that separated the hero from the man.

“Hey, wait,” you said, your voice softer than before, and he paused mid-step. You walked over to him, the sudden proximity almost overwhelming. The mask sat on your desk, waiting, like a silent question. Your heart raced as you picked it up, turning it in your hands for a moment, letting the weight of it settle. “You should probably put this on. You know, just to keep your identity safe. We don’t want anyone knowing who you really are, right?”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he said, his voice lower now, almost distracted.

You swallowed hard, your hands suddenly trembling slightly as you moved closer to him. The space between you seemed impossibly small, and for a moment, neither of you moved, just standing there, suspended in this strange, fragile moment. You could feel the warmth of his body, the soft rhythm of his breath as he stood in front of you, and for the first time since he walked into your office, it felt like the distance between you had closed.

And for a moment, everything felt like it did in high school, when you were both teenagers trying to hide the secret and not to fail your subjects.

Gently, you reached up, lifting the mask toward his face. His eyes met yours, and for a fleeting moment, everything in the room stilled. You could feel the weight of his gaze. And in that moment, as you moved to place the mask over his face, your fingers brushed against his skin—a simple touch, but one that felt electric. His jaw tensed under your fingertips, his breath hitching slightly.

You took a deep breath, your heart racing, and carefully slid the mask into place. The action was small, but it felt monumental, the kind of quiet gesture that spoke volumes. It was intimate in a way you hadn’t expected, and as you adjusted the mask, making sure it was secure, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted again in your heart.

“Perfect,” you said softly.

Peter looked at you, now fully transformed into Spiderman, and despite the mask, there was something in his posture, in the way he stood, that was unmistakably him. “Thanks,” he said, his voice muffled through the fabric, though there was still a tenderness in his tone.

The sounds of children’s laughter and chatter grew louder as you moved toward the classroom, the vibrant energy of the moment standing in stark contrast to the quiet tension that had surrounded you both earlier. You stole a glance at Peter. Even in the suit, even behind the mask, you could feel his nervousness, a subtle hesitation in the way his shoulders tensed, the slight uncertainty in his step. It was as if he was still learning how to be this version of himself again, but the earnestness was unmistakable.

When you reached the door, you paused, turning to face him. “Ready?” you asked, your voice soft but carrying the weight of the moment.

“Born ready,” he replied, his smile audible even through the mask, though it was tinged with a hint of uncertainty.

You took a deep breath and opened the door, stepping in first to scan the room. The instant the door swung wide, the children’s eyes locked on you, their faces lighting up with excitement. Jamie, sitting at the small table with his friends, froze mid-conversation. His eyes widened, his face glowing with anticipation as he jumped to his feet.

“Miss! Is it time for the surprise?” he asked, his voice full of wonder.

“Not just yet,” you said, your lips curving into a conspiratorial smile. “But I think you’ll want to pay attention.”

And then, with a theatrical flair you hadn’t expected, Spiderman stepped through the doorway and the cobwebs appeared. The room erupted in gasps and squeals of delight as the kids leapt from their chairs, crowding around him with wide-eyed awe.

Jamie froze, his mouth hanging open as he clutched the edge of the table. “No way,” he whispered, his voice trembling with disbelief. “It’s really him?”

Peter crouched down to Jamie’s level, his movements fluid and natural despite the years away from the suit. “Happy birthday, Jamie,” he said, extending a hand for a high-five. “Someone tell me you’re my biggest fan.”

A soft laugh bubbled in your chest at the mention. The kid hesitated, looking at you for confirmation, and then, with all the enthusiasm his tiny six-year-old body could muster, slapped his hand against Peter’s gloved one with the loudest, most joyful smack. “You’re real! You’re really real!”

The other children chattered excitedly, peppering Spiderman with questions about his powers and his adventures. He handled it all with practiced ease, weaving just enough humor into his answers to keep them laughing but still utterly convinced that he was, in fact, the superhero they adored.

As you watched him, standing back and taking it all in, a soft warmth spread through your chest. He wasn’t just good at this—he was great. His ease with the kids, the effortless way he connected with them, it was clear: he was a hero not only in costume but in every little action. The doubts that had plagued him, the years spent questioning if the mask was still a part of him, seemed so far away in that moment. He had it—the ability to inspire, to make people believe, to make them feel seen and important.

For the first time in weeks, you felt that flutter in your chest again—the one you hadn’t realized you’d missed so much. It was hope, soft and steady, like a heartbeat you’d forgotten how to hear until now.

You stayed near the back of the classroom, content to let Peter soak up the adoration while you took a couple of pictures of it. But every now and then, he would catch your eye, and even through the mask, you could feel the gratitude radiating off him. It was a silent thank-you, a quiet acknowledgment of the bond between you, for pulling him into this moment, for giving him the chance to be this version of himself. You nodded, your lips curving into a small, affectionate smile.

When the excitement finally began to settle, the cake was brought out, and Jamie proudly showed Peter his crayon drawing—an adorable depiction of Spiderman battling a huge, ferocious lizard. He studied it for a moment before declaring with all the sincerity he could muster, “Museum-worthy,” making the kid’s face light up with pride. The joy in the room was palpable, and it was impossible to tell who was happier: the children, who were living out their dreams, or the superhero himself, who was finally realizing that, perhaps, there was still a place for him in this world.

Eventually, it was time for him to “swing” away, and after a round of hugs and high-fives, he disappeared down the hall, leaving a room full of awestruck children in his wake. You stayed behind, cleaning up the remnants of the party and basking in the lingering joy.

By the time you returned to your office and all the kids to their houses, the hallways were quieter, and the sound of little feet had faded. But when you stepped inside, there he was—Peter, still waiting for you, now back in his civilian clothes, the Spidey suit crumpled in one hand like a tired, old memory.

“Oh,” you said, a little startled. “I thought you’d already left.” I wish.

“I figured I’d stick around for a bit,” he said quietly, running a hand through his hair, still slightly ruffled from the mask. “I don’t exactly get to see kids this excited for me every day.”

You couldn’t help but smile in return. “You really made Jamie’s day. I’ve never seen him so starstruck. He’s going to be talking about this for his whole life.”

Peter chuckled, but it was a little strained. “It’s good to know I’m still that impressive,” he said, his tone light, though there was an underlying sadness that didn’t quite match the words. “I guess it’s been a while since I’ve been in the game…you know, the hero thing.”

You just nodded. “You are good at it, you know.”

His smile was a little wistful as he tossed the suit onto the desk, his eyes following it for a moment before meeting yours again. “Yeah…but that’s not really what I came here to talk about.”

At his words, you felt a flicker of curiosity mixed with unease. You crossed your arms, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious. “Oh? What did you want to talk about?” Please say you want to correct my bad posture when I took the pictures or something.

He shifted in his seat, his fingers nervously tapping against the desk. “Honestly…I’ve been thinking a lot these past few weeks,” Peter began, his voice quieter now, almost like he was trying to gather his thoughts. “About you…about us. And, well, I guess I just…I missed you.”

Oh, that.

You blinked, taken aback by the sudden vulnerability in his words. For a moment, the room seemed to close in around you, your breath catching in your chest. He missed you? You hadn’t expected that.

Before you could respond, he went on, his words coming faster, like he couldn’t stop himself. “I know things have been weird since the date. And I didn’t…I didn’t want to just text you or call and make it feel like I was making things awkward. You know? So, I guess I just…waited for you, and I get the message.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and every conclusion you ever had was shattered.

“Wait,” you said, the realization dawning on you. “You were waiting for me to call?”

“Yeah. I mean…I thought maybe you were the one who needed space, and I didn’t want to rush things or make it weird. I didn’t want to push you into something you weren’t ready for or didn’t want.”

Not ready? Don’t want? You literally had been wanting it since you were sixteen.

You blinked again, feeling a warm flush spread through you. “I…I thought you were the one avoiding it. I didn’t want to make things uncomfortable, so I didn’t reach out either.”

His eyes widened slightly as the words sunk in, and for a moment, there was just a long silence between you, filled with the soft hum of the fluorescent lights above. Then, finally, a soft laugh escaped him, and you couldn’t help but chuckle too, the tension easing slightly.

“I guess we were both just sitting here thinking the other person would make the first move,” Peter said with a grin, shaking his head.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. “This is ridiculous,” you said, your laughter soft but genuine. “We’ve been friends for years, and now we’re both too nervous to talk about it.”

He chuckled, his gaze dropping for a moment. “Yeah. Seems like we’ve been pretty bad at this whole communicating thing.”

The laughter between you two died down, the room suddenly feeling warmer, the space between you shrinking with each passing second. For a moment, there was nothing but the quiet hum of the fluorescent lights and the soft shuffle of Peter’s shoes against the floor. You felt a spark of something flicker within you—something long suppressed, a longing, an ache you hadn’t quite realized until now.

He shifted in his chair, a bit unsure of what to do next, his fingers absentmindedly brushing the fabric of his crumpled suit. His eyes met yours, and for a second, the weight of everything—your shared history, the unspoken words, and the lingering emotions—hung in the air like a delicate thread waiting to snap.

“I guess we should…try this again,” he murmured, his voice low and tentative. The vulnerability in his tone made your heart flutter. “If you want.”

You nodded, feeling your cheeks warm, but this time it wasn’t from nerves. You stepped closer, closing the space between you, feeling the presence of him so close you could almost feel the thrum of his heartbeat.

“Yeah…let’s try again,” you whispered, almost to yourself, but loud enough for him to hear. “I want it.”

Peter stood up, his movements slow and deliberate, as if he was giving you time to change your mind. His hand reached out slightly, as if asking for permission, and you met him halfway, your fingers brushing against his. A spark of warmth shot through you, igniting a familiar flame.

He cupped your face gently, his thumb tracing the curve of your jawline, as if memorizing every detail of your expression. Your breath caught, heart pounding, as you met his gaze—his brown eyes soft, but with that unmistakable spark of affection you had longed for.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured softly, his words both an affirmation and a confession. The sincerity in his voice made your breath hitch in your chest. You smiled shyly, unsure how to respond but feeling the weight of his words settle deep within you.

Slowly, he leaned in, and for a moment, time seemed to slow. His lips brushed against yours lightly, just a whisper of a kiss, a hesitant touch that held more promise than any grand declaration. You closed your eyes, letting the sensation wash over you, feeling your body relax into the familiarity of him. His lips lingered against yours for a heartbeat before pulling back, as if checking in, unsure of how much was too much, too soon.

“I don’t want to rush anything,” he said, his voice a little shaky, as if unsure of how to navigate this new territory between you two. “I just want to take things slow, see where this goes…do it right.”

You nodded in agreement, your hands gently gripping his as you let the moment linger. “Yeah, me too. No need to rush.”

He stepped back slightly, looking at his watch with a sigh. “I should go,” he said, his smile a little sad. “I’ve got work, and you probably have things to do.”

You felt a pang of disappointment, but you understood. The moment, as sweet as it had been, couldn’t last forever.

“Yeah, I get it,” you said, trying to hide the disappointment in your voice. “I’ll see you soon, right?”

He nodded, a warm smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Yes, you definitely will.”

Peter took a step back toward the door, but before he could reach for the handle, he stopped, turning to face you once more. There was a hesitation in his eyes, a pull that seemed to tether him to you in that moment. Without a word, he crossed the room in a few strides, his hand reaching for you again, this time more urgent, more sure.

Before you could say anything, his lips were on yours again—this time, deeper, more insistent, as if he could no longer wait for you to make the first move. It was a kiss that spoke volumes—of all the missed chances, of the longing, of everything unspoken between you. It was both sweet and desperate, a promise and a question wrapped up in one.

You responded instantly, your hands finding his shoulders as you leaned into the kiss, feeling the heat of his body against yours. For a few moments, nothing else mattered but the rhythm of your kiss, the way his fingers brushed your hair back, and the warmth of his breath against your skin.

Finally, when the kiss broke, both of you stood there, breathing a little heavier than before, eyes locked in a silent exchange that said more than words ever could.

He ran a hand through his hair again, his expression a mix of longing and determination. “I’m not waiting anymore,” he said softly, as if to himself. “I’m sorry, I can’t.”

You smiled, the weight of his confession making your heart flutter. “Then don’t wait,” you whispered back.

And with that, Peter leaned in one last time, pressing his lips to yours, not with hesitation or doubt, but with the certainty that whatever this was—whatever was between you two—was worth fighting for, even if you both weren't sixteen anymore.

[noamm7]

Your Help

paring : peter parker (tom holland) x male reader

genre : angust and fluff

summary : peter needs your help after a mission

On an ordinary night, you were enjoying music in the comfort of your apartment, when you heard a knock on the window and soon after a voice calling your name. The voice was familiar, and you immediately recognized it. It was your boyfriend, Peter. "Hey? Y/N...? Can you please open here...?" Peter's voice sounded weak and tense, causing you to panic. Without hesitation, you ran to open the glass window, only to be greeted by a vision that shocked you deeply.

Peter's face was marked by bruises, his clothes torn and stained with blood, showing evidence of a previous combat, his heavy eyes showed the extreme pain he was going through. Despite the injuries, he gave a weak smile, desperately trying to mask his pain. He looked at you with a touch of hope and vulnerability, while he was there, leaning on the window. He didn't want you to worry, but it was clear that he was in serious trouble.

It was evident that, as a superhero, he was used to dealing with dangerous situations, but this one seemed to be different. "Peter...what happened to you?" You say opening the window quickly and helping him enter the warm and cozy apartment.

"Oh, it's nothing, just a small beat...he was just..a little too big.." Peter tries to smile, but makes a grimace of pain. "Can you...can you help me with some of these...cuts, please." Peter finally looks at you with those slightly watery brown eyes.

You study him with your eyes before finally answering "Yes, Yes, of course.. can you stand walking to the bathroom?" You ask approaching him a little more "Of course..I can" Peter says "Okay, I'll go, I'll help you, okay?" You say approaching him and putting your arms around him to support him to be able to go to the bathroom without making much effort.

You gently lead Peter to the bathroom and help him sit on the edge of the bathtub. “I think a shower would be good to care for the cuts and maybe relax a bit,” you say, looking at him. Peter nods in agreement, acknowledging the need for a shower to take even better care of his cuts.

“Yes, it’s better to take a shower. It will relieve some of the pain and fatigue,” he says as he rises carefully, leaning on the wall once more to avoid carrying weight on his injuries. Peter approaches the shower, preparing to take off his clothes and step in.

✁…After the shower

"Okay, let's take care of it, okay? Maybe it hurts a little... but it's nothing you haven't already felt" you say trying to give a slight smile trying to make you as relaxed as possible "It's okay.." he says between sighs, you then begin to carefully examine the damage, cleaning the blood and applying dressings.

Peter observes you take care of your wounds. With each soft and careful touch on the injuries, a sigh of pain escapes from his lips, but he tries to stay calm. "Thank you..." he murmurs with a hoarse voice, trying to control himself so as not to complain about the pain of the wounds. "I...I really don't know what I would do without you." Peter says with a slight corner smile.

"Nah, you don't need to thank me, I like to be your personal nurse" You speak with a slight smile changing your attention to look at him who also lets out a slight laugh in the form of a tired sigh.

After a few minutes Peter leans against the wall and relaxes a little, knowing that he is in the capable hands of his partner, and takes a deep breath before closing his eyes. "I'm already finishing here, you're going to sleep here, right?"

"I..I didn't bring sleepwear..don't worry I can get home well" you turn your attention to him again "I have your clothes that you left here, they're clean, you're not going anywhere, you need a proper rest, and I'm not going to discuss this with you."

Peter knew you were right, he had no way to go around jumping through buildings, at least not now "Well, if you insist...", he answers with a sigh. "Great! I'm done here too, I'll get clean and comfortable clothes for you, I'll be right back, okay?" You say taking one last look at Peter before leaving the bathroom and going to closet to get a pair of clothes.

"Okay, here it is" You say entering the bathroom again with the clothes "Do you want to help get dressed?" You ask Peter, who kindly signals yes with his head "okay, come here". So you help your boyfriend get dressed and help him walk to the room, laying him on the bed carefully so as not to touch any injury.

"Is everything okay?" You say joining him lying next to him "Yes yes, I just...I keep thinking about how much you do for me...thank you for..all this" Peter says pointing to his own body already patched "I love you very much you know that, right? I don't know what would be without you" Peter says turning to look at you "Nah, don't thank me for that, I love you too much to find anything that does minimally bad" you say with a slight laugh

Peter who also laughs, says "You know, you're the best boyfriend anyone could ask for" Peter speaks with an attempt to stretch to you to give a light kiss, you understand the message and quickly seal your lips with his resulting in a calm and comfortable kiss. So you end the night, hugged, snuggled up to each other, just enjoying the heat that radiated between both bodies.

Observation: Okay, that's not cool, I really didn't like this story, this wasn't reviewed so I'm sorry for any mistakes you have ❤️‍🩹

Dividers by @cafekitsune