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css1992 · 3 years ago

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Guilty Pleasure

[Porn AU]

Summary: Peter and Beck used to be a power couple in the porn industry, but after Beck dumps him, Peter is forced to start over. With no money, no family and nowhere to go, he doesn’t have much choice other than to keep doing porn, so he joins Just4Fans to get back on his feet and then one day he gets a very generous tip from someone under the username of YKWIM.

Warnings: 18+, explicit, references to past non-con/rape (not between main pairing, not explicit), daddy kink, Peter in lingerie, references to gaslighting and abusive relationship (not between main pairing, not explicit). The warnings are for the story as whole, not for this chapter specifically. I’ll add more in the future, if needed.

Read on AO3

Part I / Part II / Part III / Part IV / Part V / Part VI / Part VII / Part VIII / Part IX / Part X / Part XI / Epilogue

-x-

“He can’t do this!” Ned slammed his hands down on the counter between them, as Peter took a swig of the cheap wine he bought with the last ten bucks he had in his wallet. “He isn’t even in all of the videos, at least half of the money is rightfully yours!” He kept going, stating the obvious, but Peter just sighed and shrugged.

“I’m not disagreeing with you, Ned, I’m just relaying what he told me: he’s not gonna give me anything. It’s his channel, his equipment, the money from the subscriptions goes straight to his bank account, so it’s his. It’s all his. His words, by the way.” He took another swig of wine straight from the bottle. He had been drinking from a small glass Ned offered him – he wasn’t a pirate – but it soon proved to be too small to quench his pain, so. Yeah. Pirate style it was.

“You have to sue his ass, Peter, he can’t get away with this,” MJ intervened. She was sitting next to him on a stool by the kitchen counter, so he turned to look at her with a deep frown on his face.

“Did you not hear me saying I just spent my last ten dollars on this bottle of wine? I have, like, twenty four cents left in my pocket. And that’s it. I can’t hire a lawyer, I can’t even feed myself right now!” He raised his voice a little, but quickly got himself back under control and apologized. His friends were not to blame for his predicament – they did try to warn him Beck was bad news, he didn’t want to listen. “And you know what? I don’t give a fuck. He can choke on all of it if he wants, the videos, the money, the subscribers, I don’t fucking care.” It wasn’t true, of course. Well, partially. He really didn’t care about the money, videos, subscribers, etc, but he cared about Beck. He would have given everything else up if it meant he could keep him.

Which was stupid of him, of course. But he certainly wasn’t winning any awards for being a great decision maker.

“It’s still not fair. I mean, I knew that guy was sleazy, but you’d think he’d have the decency to at least give you something, you know? You’ve been together for three years, he’s been making money off your ass for almost as long. How could he just fucking kick you out and not give you a single dime? After all the money you’ve made for him? It’s fucking sick, that guy is fucking psychopath if you ask me.” MJ’s face was turning red from anger, which made Peter smile a little. It felt good to know he was loved by someone, even if he hadn’t been the best friend to them for the past few years.

The thought made him close his eyes for a second, guilt creeping over him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d called either of them – maybe on Ned’s birthday, almost two months earlier. They used to be inseparable, the three of them; the three musketeers, as corny and lame as it sounded. For years, those two were the only family he knew, but when Beck came into his life, everything changed.

Stupid fucking Beck.

Peter used to think of him as his own personal super-hero – it did feel like he had come to save him, after all. They met when he was seventeen, he had been living in foster homes for almost seven years by then, after Ben and May passed away. At the time, he was with his fifth family, and there were so many children in that house, so many of them came and went, that their foster parents didn’t really keep tabs most of the time. It was easy to sneak out, and Peter did, often.

He met Beck on one of his night walks – and their first meeting should have raised all kinds of red flags, but for whatever reason, it didn’t. Beck slowed the car next to him, rolled down the window and asked how much Peter charged for a blowjob. Just like that. The teen gasped at first, but when he looked around for a moment, he realized he wasn’t in the most family friendly neighborhood. There were, in fact, some men and women around him who definitely looked like they were there for that, but Peter was in sweats, for crying out loud, and he definitely looked his age – or even younger than that.

His wide eyes must have given him away, because the older man quickly apologized and showed him a charming, white smile. He made up some excuse about mistaking him for someone else and the boy said it was ok. He was going to keep walking when Beck asked what his name was. Then how old he was. Then where he was going, where he ha come from.

Looking back, Peter knew he should have run. He should have left, because there was no excuse for an adult man like him to keep asking a teenager so many questions right after he basically offered him money to suck his dick. But that Peter, that 17-year-old boy, was still a bit too naive. To have such a handsome man showing interest in him – his kind, blue eyes smiling at him, warm and safe – was inebriating. He actually looked at him. And cared. At least Peter thought he did at the time. And he was so lonely back then, even that little bit of attention meant the world to him.

He should have run, but he stayed. Should have run, but got in his car. Should have run, but ended up giving him a clumsy hand job in the backseat, after just a few sweet promises whispered in his eager ears. Beck was so good with words, he could have convinced Peter to jump off a bridge that very same night if he wanted.

They exchanged phone numbers. For weeks, they texted and called each other, until they could meet again. By then, he was smitten. At twenty, he could see how innocent he had been, how trusting and open he was with a complete stranger. A 32 year-old stranger, at that. Ned and MJ, his only friends from school, warned him that it wasn’t okay. That it was weird for a man his age to be interested in a teenage boy, but Peter said they were wrong. He said he wasn’t just a regular kid, he had been through stuff they could only imagine. He was mature and experienced, and Beck could see that, which was why he liked him.

Looking back now, it was embarrassing how wrong he was. Beck was an illusionist. Sad thing was everyone could see the trapdoor but him.

“So what are you gonna do now?” MJ asked, fishing another bottle of wine from under the counter and placing it in front of Peter, who almost cried in gratitude.

“You mean besides crying myself to sleep for the next few months?” He wasn’t really joking. The only reason he wasn’t crying right at that moment was because he had spent almost three hours bawling his eyes out on a park bench close to their – well, Beck’s – apartment, hoping against hope that Beck would reconsider and come after him. When it became clear it wasn’t going to happen, he headed to the only place he knew he could find refuge – even if he didn’t deserve it.

“Yeah, besides that, obviously.” She opened the wine bottle and before he could take it and drink straight from it, she poured three glasses and Peter sighed, defeated.

“I have no idea.” He answered, only slightly surprised that he actually meant it. He had absolutely no clue what to do. For three years, he hadn’t had to worry about money – or anything, really. Beck took care of everything and he just assumed it would always be like that. That he would always have him by his side to take care of him.

He rubbed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

“Are you going to keep doing porn?” Ned asked, a worried expression on his face. Peter remembered he hated the idea when Beck first suggested it, as soon as he turned eighteen.

People are gonna lose it, Beck said. A pretty little twink and a hot daddy? We’re going to be a hit.

And they were. Their first videos blew up quickly, people were either disgusted by the thought of them together – because of the age gap – or completely enthralled. The haters helped them get more views, and Peter soon learned that there really was no such thing as bad publicity. Beck promoted their videos on twitter, where they accumulated thousands of followers. Peter remembered that, back then, many people sent him worried messages, saying he was too young, that Beck was a predator, that he was taking advantage of him.

In retrospect, they might have been right, after all.

He wasn’t too sure about doing porn when they first started, he knew once they released the first video, there was no going back, there was no way they could ever take it down – the internet was forever. Nothing was ever truly deleted. He wanted to be a dad someday, what if his children ever saw those videos in the future? What would have Ben and May thought? What about his parents?

None of this matters, honey, Beck assured him. These kids don’t even exist yet, don’t worry about them. And your relatives, well… They’re gone, sweetie. You can’t really disappoint them anymore.

So Peter did it. And he was terrified at first, he felt so exposed, people all over the world could see him in his most vulnerable moments, all of him, in every position Beck managed to put him in, in any outfit he thought the public might like, in any setting he thought might bring in more viewers, more subscribers, more money.

Soon, just the two of them weren’t enough. Their viewers wanted to see Peter with other people – other daddies – and Beck saw another opportunity to increase his profit. Peter was strongly against the idea at first, it felt too much like prostitution, which was where he wanted to draw the line, but, again, Beck sweet-talked him into it.

It’s nothing like prostitution, honey, he said. I’ll be there the whole time, I’ll be the one filming and directing, I’ll be the one paying the other actors, all the profits are ours. How is that anything like prostitution? It’s just like what we’ve been doing so far.

So not only there were a bunch of videos of him and Beck out there in the world, there were also lots of videos of him with other men, some of whom were old enough to be his actual dad. There was even one video in particular that he was specially embarrassed by – and sadly enough, that was the most viewed one so far. It was fucking humiliating.

At some point, Peter should have realized it became all about money for Beck – and maybe it had been like that all along, he just hadn’t noticed before. Over the last few months of their relationship, they never had sex just for fun, just for the hell of it. There were always cameras, and lights, and roles to play. Beck never said he loved him anymore. Barely touched him. Barely kissed him. He should have seen it coming. He had been too blind, or just… Didn’t want to see what was happening right before his eyes. He ignored all the signs. The voice in the back of his head telling him something was off.

But anyway, porn. Could he still do it?

“I don’t know,” he answered, finally. He looked at his best friends and sighed with a shrug. “To be honest, it was never something I enjoyed, and I don’t know if I could ever do it without him somehow involved, you know? I did it with him because I felt… Safe? I don’t want to get involved in the actual porn industry, I’ve heard some pretty fucked up stories.” Peter had heard horror stories about other boys in the industry, and even though his own story was no fairy tale, there was nothing so bad that it couldn’t get worse.

“How about Just4Fans?” MJ asked and both Peter and Ned turned to look at her in shock. “What? You guys were pretty popular, right? You won awards and shit, so there must be at least a few hundred people out there who would pay money to see some dirty pictures of you, maybe some short videos. That way you won’t need to go into professional porn and you wouldn’t need a partner, but you could still make decent money. And fast.”

Well, it actually made sense. It wasn’t like there weren’t hundreds of videos of him being fucked raw all over the internet, anyway. A few dirty pictures couldn’t hurt. And besides, it didn’t need to be forever, just until he figured something out.

“That’s… actually not a bad idea,” he conceded, drinking the last of the wine in his glass. MJ sympathetically filled it up again and he mumbled his thanks.

“What do you think he will do now?” Ned asked carefully, and Peter shrugged for what felt like the hundredth time. There was so much he didn’t know.

“Probably keep shooting videos with his new boy-toy.” He managed to say it with a steady voice, but his eyes burned. He still couldn’t believe how… replaceable Beck thought he was.

When he noticed them interacting online a few months earlier, before the boy was even eighteen, Peter was alarmed, but when he confronted the older man about it, he said he was crazy and seeing things, picking up fights for no reason. He always twisted things in a way that, somehow, Peter was the one apologizing to him in the end.

Months later, just weeks after the kid turned eighteen, there he was – homeless, penniless and lost – meanwhile the other guy was probably getting comfortable in his bed. If Peter didn’t hate the kid, he would pity him. In a few years, he would probably meet the same fate.

“Do you think he would take the videos down if you asked?” Ned asked, and Peter scoffed.

“Yeah, right, those videos will still make him a lot of money monthly, he’d never delete them.” And Peter would have to live with the fact that he would always be just one google search away from complete humiliation and exposure. If he ever tried to get a serious job, those videos would stand in the way. If he ever managed to meet somebody decent and good, those videos would be a testament to what sort of person he was in the past. Fuck, some of them were really fucked up.

“So… Should we create fake twitter accounts to trash talk his short dick or what?” MJ was already grabbing her phone and Peter laughed halfheartedly, shaking his head.

“He’s not worth it. Karma will take care of him, I’m sure.” He drank the last of his wine and whimpered sadly. “So… Can I crash with you guys for a few days? I promise I’m not gonna overstay my welcome! I’ll be out of your hair as soon as the Just4Fans thing works out.”

“Of course you can, nerd, stay as long as you need. We’ve got your back, c’mon.” MJ got up from her stool and gestured for him to do the same. “Do you mind taking the couch?” She asked as she headed to her bedroom in the tiny apartment.

“Not at all,” he answered with a sigh of relief, then went to grab his suitcase by the door. Three years together and that was all he had to show for it. A single suitcase with a few changes of clothes, after being kicked out of the house on a cold February night. His eyes burned but he took a deep breath, blinking them rapidly to avoid the tears.

“Then make yourself at home. Our casa es su casa.” MJ placed a pillow on the couch and handed him a thick, warm blanket.

“We’ll figure something out, okay?” Ned clasped him on the shoulder with a gentle smile on his face.

“Okay.” He sighed, feeling like a weight had been lifted off his crushed chest.

He waited for his friends to go into their respective rooms, waited to hear their quiet snores, before he allowed the tears to run freely down his face, replaying everything Beck said to him when he kicked him out.

Before he knew it, he was a sobbing a little, so he buried his face in the pillow to muffle the noise, as he tried to convince himself that things were going to be okay, that he was going to be okay. But at that moment, that was hard to believe.

#starker #peter parker x tony stark

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marvelsbetch · 3 years ago

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Peter Parker’s field trip. Part 1

Warnings: Trans!Peter, Spidypool, sex references, superfamily, transphobia, supportive avengers

Tony POV

I was in my lab waiting for Peter, my newly adopted son, to come home from school when Friday told me I had an email from Peters school. Turning to my phone I opened the email and was completely annoyed. The email read

'Dear Parent/Carer of Patricia Parker,

We are delighted to inform you that we have a surprise field trip for the student to none other than Stark Laboratories. The trip with be a residential starting on March 7th with a trip to Stark Tower, staying the night there with Mr Tony Stark-Rodgers and then having a trip to the Avengers Tower where we will have the opportunity to meet the Avengers and ask them questions. This is a once in a life time opportunity and we hope you allow your daughter to attend. Also, we would like to keep the trip as a surprise for the student so we urge you not to tell them the destinations of the trip.

Yours Sincerely,

Mrs Robbins.'

I was livid. My child Peter is a boy. I do not have a daughter I have a son. I couldn't believe the nerve of this teacher so I stormed out of my lab and in to the main living area of the penthouse and saw my handsome husband lay on the couch watching tv. He looked so calm and collected but I feel this might change.

"Honey, I just got this email from Peters school that I think you should have a look at." I told him handing him my phone.

He looked confused at first but then the anger set in and by time my phone was placed back in my hand he had an evil smirk on his face. I had an idea of why he had that smirk but just to be sure I asked him,

"What's the smirk for?" I asked.

"Tell the teacher our son can go on the trip while I make a few phone calls. Nobody purposely misgenders my son and gets away with it." He is trusted before grabbing his cell phone and walking down the corridor to one of the training room. Probably going to blow off a little steam and anger. Might watch in a little while.

After a second I simply responded to the email stating'

I as Peters legal guardian allow my son to attend this field trip. Is there any additional information that we should be aware of?' It seemed like the appropriate response.

In all honesty I had Pepper invite the school to the towers as a reward for how well they did at the decathlon competition. I was not expecting to receive an email like this.

-5 hours later-

Peter arrived home shortly after the email incident and was greeted to everyone being in the room. Everyone being Me, Cap, Bucky, Nat, Banner, Pepper, Sam, T'Challa, Shuri, Rhodey, Wanda, Vision, Thor, Loki, Clint and Strange along with the Guardians on a Skype call on the tv. We told him it was a spur of the moment gathering as well all missed each other, not an entire lie, but in reality we were plotting to a) embarrass Peter as much as possible on the field trip and b) get back at the teacher for what they did.

We decided to order enough pizza for an entire 3rd world country and discuss Peter's school life as we ate.

"So Peter, has anyone been giving you trouble lately in School? You can tell us the truth." Steve, Peter's other father and my husband, asked.

"No everything just fine." He terribly lied.

"Come on kid. I've known you for almost two years now, don't try and lie. If there's anyone giving you any type of shit for whatever reason please know that you can tell us." I explained to him all of a sudden getting very serious. I could see him fighting with himself on weather to tell us something or not but decided not to as he then said he had homework to do and went to his room.

"So, he's either lying or the teacher isn't as bad as we think." Loki observed.

"No, he was lying. I could feel his conflict and pain in remembrance of what people have said to him. I'm not one for violence but someone needs to pay for what he's been dealing with." Wanda told us with tears in her eyes.

Cap and Barton walked over to comfort her and hopefully stop her crying. My blood started boiling, Wanda was a strong person and if what Peter's going through brings her to tears then that's a lot for one person to go through. What else has this teacher or student done? Why won't he tell us? Does he not trust us? That last question broke my heart.

"Baby, you okay?" I hear Steve ask moving towards me and holding both my hands in his.

"No. I'm pissed. I'm pissed at any one who hurt my son. I'm pissed at us for not making sure he knows he can talk to us. And I'm pissed at the world for making his go through all of this." I told him with tears coming to my eyes.

Steve pulled me close to my chest and held me tight. He stroked his hands through my hair as he tried to calm me down. I could tell he was mad to, we all were, but he was trying to hold it in despite everyone being here to essentially punish this teacher was his idea. Embarrassing Peter was mine.

"Right, so what do we do about this? I'm not letting anyone hurt my nephew and get away with it." Nat said sitting up and pulling a knife from who knows where to sharped her nails. That women scares me so much.

"How about we just drop in during the day and make sure one of us is always with him. If he has one of us always there and we make it apparent that we know and support him the I doubt even someone as bigoted as his teacher is going to say something. Then we can embarrass him when we're with him." Sam suggested.

"I like that. Where are we all going to be stationed?" Loki asked.

"Well if I speak to the tour guide I could get Banner to give them a lesson on Gamma radiation as the first. Then, Barton or somebody drops in. After that they will be taken to a different lab with Shuri and T'Challa. By that time it should be lunch where Thor and Loki could drop in and the guardians land near the level 7 outside cafeteria. Then we can have Sam drop some stuff from above like a water balloon or something and Bucky bake his favourite cookies to bring to him. After Lunch they're looking around some other labs where Shuri could also be along with Banner. I think they're also going to be visiting the training rooms so Nat, Cap, Bucky and T'Challa could be fighting and Wanda, Vision and Strange could be training their magic." I suggested feeling better now that we were planning this.

March 6th

-Peter's POV-

I was in Chemistry faintly heading the teacher, Mrs Robbins, drone on and on about ionic bonding and how it differs to covalent bonding. It was something I already knew so I didn't need to listen until Ned started hitting my arm. Turning to look at him he simply nodded to the direction of the teacher. I turned around just to catch two words that made my heart drop.

"-Field trip!" Our teacher cheered with a big smile on her face.

Field trip? To where and why?

"That's right, we have organised a surprise field trip for you all as a reward for how well you've all done on your recent exams. Only the top 20 student of the entire school will have the privilege of going. The destination will be a surprise but I will say to bring an overnight bag and money for food and such. You're parents have already got an email consenting for your attendance and the bus will be leaving at 8am tomorrow so don't be late." She further explained.

The whole surprise field trip thing made me nervous beyond all belief. I may not technically be a Parker anymore but the luck definitely followed me and the idea of having to go on an overnight field trip made me terrified. Also, our parents got an email. This means that either Dad (Tony) or Pops (Steve) knew about this probably weeks ago and didn't tell me, this only fulled my anxiety.

Soon the bell went signalling the end of the day and our temporary liberation from this educational prison. On the way out Mrs Robins pulled me aside. It confused me at first until she put our most recent test infront of me. My name circled in big red circles, I know what's about to happen.

"Patricia, you must stop this. You're name is not Peter, you're not a boy. You were born a girl and therefore are, there is no picking and choosing with what God gave you. You must understand this by now. This little joke has gone too far that you're name has been requested to change on our register. Get it through you're head that you are not a boy and you will go to hell for thinking otherwise. One more incident like this and you'll have detention for the rest of the year. Got it?" She basically shouted at me pointing to my circled name on the test.

"No. My name is Peter and I am a boy, I don't care what God assigned me because he got it wrong. I am a boy and my name is Peter as we have gotten it legally changed." I rebutted getting impatient with her ignorance.

"Don't speak to me like that young man. You have no right to change Gods idea and destiny for you. Just thing, you're a girl meaning you can have kids and spread God's message to others and have many kids. Just what God planned for all women." She told me trying to sound sweet but came off and incredibly patronising.

At this point I was too angry to listen to her bulls**t (Gotta keep it Steve friendly people) so I stormed out the room. She started yelling for me to come back to the classroom but I didn't listen and continued walking till I reached the car Happy was in to take me home.

I got in the car and started telling Happy about my day while playing classic songs on my phone such as Highway to Hell, You gave love a bad name and Living on a Prayer. He pretended like he didn't care but I could tell he was listening and hanging onto every word I was saying. I love that about Happy, he acts like he doesn't care but in reality he does and he does a lot. He once caught Flash saying stuff about me and threatened to hit him with the car, he almost did as well but we were running late to a meeting I had to go to with Dad. Of course that didn't stop Flash as he still likes to torment me daily but he now does it more secretly making it more bearable.

We soon made it home and I found all of my dysfunctional family,minus the guardians who were on a Skype call, sat in the living room watching a movie on the tv. I quickly set my bag down on the kitchen island and settled right next to Tony (Dad) who was cuddling Cap (Pops). Everyone was asking me questions about my day and school life in general. They focused mostly on if people were bullying on me. It worried me a little because as much as I know I can go to them, I don't want to because I know that if I tell them everything that's happened they'll kill people and I don't want that for my family. Half of them only just got pardoned and I don't want the governments to revoke that.

"Sorry guys but I got homework. The pizza was delicious, is it okay if I invite Wade around?" I pleaded with Pops knowing he's more likely to say yes.

"Yes but that door stays open hound man. Do I make myself clear?" Pops asked in a stern voice.

"Crystal." I responded before taking out my phone to call Wade, grabbed my bag and walked to my room.

"Hey Baby Boy, what's up?" Wade asked after picking up his phone.

"Not much, Pops said you could come around." I told him making him slightly squeal.

"Okay Baby Boy, I'll be there in 10 minutes. I love you." Wade informed.

"I love you to Babe." I said before hanging up with a smile on my face.

-10 minutes later-

I was sat at my desk finishing my algebra homework when I heard someone knock on the window. Knowing it was Wade I turned with a smile on my face and let him in.

"Hey Baby Boy, how was your day?" Wade asked making himself comfortable on my bed.

"It was fine, quite boring if I'm honest. We did get told about this residential field trip tomorrow though. Sorry I won't be here for most of the weekend. I'm sure my Dads will love having you around." I joked sitting on his lap and cuddling into his chest.

"It's fine Pete. I'll just have to savour our time together now." He said wiggling his eyebrows and kissing me passionately.

"My Pops said to keep the door open." I told him pulling away with a massive blush spread across my cheeks.

"Does that rule apply to your en-suite?" Wade asked.

"I don't believe so." I answered getting up from his lap and dragging him into my en-suite, which is where we stayed for the rest of the night.

To be continued...

#adopted peter parker #bi peter parker #gay peter parker #peter parker #spidypool #superfamily #supportive avengers #gay steve rodgers #steve x tony #steveony #ironfam #lqbtq #lgbt pride #trans peter parker #wade wilson #deadpool #pansexual deadpool #field trip #peter parker field trip

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janiedean · 3 years ago

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if you ever wrote that rant about grrm making jon his chosen one deconstruction i'd be very happy to read it 👀

hello anon sorry for the lateness but here we go *deep breath*

sssooo, I had once ranted about it though not mentioning the thing I mentioned in those tags so lemme see if I can find the op and like... cp the main argument and amend it bc it was long, but okay so I found it, original anon asked me: why is Jon considered to be one of the most special characters grrm created? Why is he not the typical hero of fantasy books?, my original answer was here if anyone wants to go there but basically lemme just cp the first part making it shorter and then I'm adding:

first thing, the Typical Post-Tolkien Chosen One With A Shitty Life Before He Finds Out He Is Chosen™ character (I’m saying post-tolkien because every fantasy writer in existence who copies tolkien thinks that lotr went like that and instead it didn’t) usually goes through the following steps: his life sucks up until the beginning of the series, his family generally hates him/her or doesn’t appreciate them or abuses them or anyway doesn’t make their life easier and they’ve never known any different, but *something* never quite worked right and they always knew something was missing in their life, they just didn’t know why. suddenly someone who knows they were Chosen™ shows up and tells them that they’re actually Special because of this this and that and they have a quest to go on to save the world or something. our hero/heroine obviously is finally validated and while their quest is hard and full of hardships and maybe they lose a few friends along the way, finding out that they were Chosen gives their life meaning, they usually find love/friends/everything they didn’t have before until they fulfill the Prophecy™ and live more or less happily ever after, possibly after hooking up with the Person Of Their Dreams with whom they had UST up until the last twenty pages of the book. basically: being Chosen™ in regular fantasy novels is a good thing because suddenly you’re special and all the crap you suffered acquires a new meaning and in the end it made your life better.

jon snow is a complete overhaul of about everything in this sense because

instead of having a family who hates him he has a family who actually mostly loves him, and with ned it’s arguably so much that he risks royal treason by keeping him hidden from his *best friend* - sure, there’s cat and peripherally sansa, but his issues stem from the fact that he feels lesser because he’s a bastard (as far as he knows) and it’s a *class* issue, not a *my family hates me* issue not counting catelyn obv but that's what gives him freudian issues more on that in the emended part later

no one actually knows that he’s Chosen™ - like mel could get there and probably will and someone will put two and two together when his parentage comes out in the open, but he doesn’t have a gandalf or mentor who shows him The Way Towards His Quest

so instead of going from ‘my life sucks but I’m going on a quest which is gonna be a+’ he actively chooses to leave a fairly decent situation (a household he knows, siblings who love him - ned actually hoped he’d become robb’s counselor or right hand man or something from what we can gather) because he feels like he has to prove he’s better than his name and goes to the Crappiest Place In Westeros. like idk if people grasp it, but the wall is basically a prison and at the ripe age of fourteen he decides that it’s totally a good and honorable choice (his only choice actually) to go defend the realm in the freezing cold along with a bunch of criminals/derelicts/rejects of society

at which point he makes friends among said rejects and let’s remember that it’s the point where he actually has to do his first an only privilege when donal noye made him go like hey you were brought up with nobles these ppl are here because they stole bread, and that helps making him more into the person he is rn but like your tyopical fantasy hero who has had a shitty life doesn’t usually have to acknowledge that other people might have had it worse

then he goes on the Quest where he finds his first One True Love, and that’s where it turns even worse because usually the quest is where things start to go right for the Hero™, instead for jon they start to go wronger, because first he has to go undercover which pretty much tests most of his belief/code system, he falls in love with a girl he has to betray, half of his friends and his lord commander die along the way, while he’s off doing his thing winterfell gets taken/burned and robb dies when jon openly stated that he also was going to the wall to defend his family and keep them safe (yeaaah worked out real well), when he goes back to the wall he has to fight the people he lived with for months, the woman he loves dies in his arms and he can’t do anything about it and he’s aware it couldn’t have gone any other way, people put defending the wall on him and then put his loyalty in question, when stannis shows up with a legitimization (which is everything he ever wanted) he refuses because he doesn’t want to accidentally steal his siblings’s inheritance (which was what cat was so worried about hahaha) and actively chooses the crappy defending the realm life all over again. also in all this time his being Chosen™ hasn’t manifested or helped him in any way whatsoever - actually all his honor-moral code related baggage is what moral dilemmas come from that. like, your usual chosen hero™ would always take the right decision and it all turns out good eventually, jon takes the morally right decision and it all turns SOUR eventually

at this point he finally gets elected LC, thanks to his friends also pitching in, which is about the one fantasy hero™ thing that’s happened for now. should be good, yes?

lol no, because he ends up with THAT hellish responsibility at sixteen, since he thinks that he has absolutely to be even better than that now and he has very specific notions about how you should lead and he knows he has to take unpopular decisions/decisions that he doesn’t necessarily like, he ends up either having to send his friends away forreal (sam) or detaching from them (pyp/grenn/the likes) and when as far as he knows he learns that his sister is married to ramsay he can’t do anything about it

never mind that it’s the same situation as when he had to pick the watch or robb in book one - he went there to defend his family and now being there actually prevents him from helping them in person. ops. meanwhile he’s trying to implement a new vision of things which is modern and smart and actually makes sense because why fighting the wildlings when you have ZOMBIES coming. your usual Chosen One™ would get people to approve just because he’s the Chosen One

instead jon gets stabbed to death - okay, that was also because he wanted to go get arya but it was the last straw, people were pissed over the wildlings plan first and foremost

so basically he’s gone through all the Chosen One™ steps but in reverse - he loses his family which did love him instead of finding another one that makes the first pale in comparison, he does find a new one who loves him but has to alienate most of its members for responsibility reasons as a consequence of what should have been the crowning achievement of his life choices (which eventually is NOT one), he falls in love and they don’t drag the UST forever but they never get a chance to be together without small print in between, he chooses the admittedly most masochistic life he could for his family as well and half of them die and he can’t do a thing for the other half, every other mentor-like figure he runs into after ned dies, instead of finding validation he ends up having to isolate himself and on top of everything HE STILL DOESN’T FUCKING KNOW HE’S THE CHOSEN ONE™

so instead of his life going better the more he learns stuff and matures as a person, he gets murdered. by the people he trusts and who were supposed to be his new family. haha?

never mind that when he finds out he’s the Chosen One™ it won’t bring him closure because all he ever wanted was being full stark like his father/siblings and then bam he’s going to find out his father’s actually targaryen and what does that even mean to him?

on top of that being AA will just be a pain because I don’t believe for a second he’s not going to get leftover ptsd and who the hell is gonna help him deal with it? or how is he ever getting over his *brothers* murdering him? and people are going to ask stuff of him all over again and he’s gonna have to go slay a mythical monster and if I know grrm it’s not gonna be fun, pretty or cathartic FOR HIM

on top of that, Chosen Hero™ fulfills the prophecy and gets a realm to rule and everyone lives happily ever after. money is that if jon does get that realm (and I think he is because he has the best claim if he's legitimate and most likely it'll turn out he was on the targ side but ROBB also legitimized him so he has double the legitimization), he’s going to hate every second of it and he’ll take it because a) duty, b) literally no one else is available, and like this guy didn’t want to rule a realm or be a king or anything he just wanted to be a stark, and instead he’s going to have to after all that shit thanks to Magical And Noble Heritage he hadn’t even known he had and probably didn’t even want up to that point because since when jon wanted to be a targ? yeah since never

obviously I hope he manages to be somewhat happy regardless because the alternative is too miserable, but basically being a Chosen Hero™ is what makes jon’s life worse rather than better and the fact that hew went through all the regular self-discovery journey for the fantasy hero list doesn’t mean he’s not flipping that over in his sl. the fact that he stayed a decent person more or less throughout it and that he hasn’t turned into a bitter asshole also doesn’t change the main point XD

tldr: jon snow is not a typical fantasy hero because he deconstructs that trope into tiny little bits same as robb deconstructed the arthurian flawless king hero trope

now ^^^^^ THAT was what I originally wrote for that meta but adding on to what I said in those tags

okay so... there is a certain tendency to also make the chosen one™ special in the sense that he's kind of goals - good looking, rich or set to inherit, gallant, takes the initiative, he's like.. social or anyway immediately makes friends etc and all that jazz which jon... doesn't really fit

like jon is an introvert who immediately makes friends just with outcasts and his siblings also bc he feels like one but he's hardly a social butterfly and charms everyone wherever he walks by

I mean ffs says all that the only person he charmed in that sense is stannis who is the literal only person in charge in the books who is more introvert than him and has worse communication issues and appreciates ppl going straight to the point

on top of that in the book he looks like ned.... and arya looks like ned and ned isn't described as being particularly handsome that was brandon so he's not even like... I mean kit h. is v. pretty and I think he was a good choice for the role and I'll die on the hill that he was born to play that character and he did it well but book!jon doesn't have that kinda pretty face so the concept that he's the HOT alternative to anyone to me is kind of iffy bc he's not

he's shit at social interactions and at PR which is why robb and him would have been a key winning ticket like he has a better idea of the larger picture but robb would have actually made sure ppl didn't turn against them bc he actually was good at that but like he doesn't go around rallying armies in his name does he

the one time he's been with a girl it was ygritte and like he courted her without realizing it and then she had to pursue him and he barely knew wtf to do on top of the fact that they slept with ghost in the middle of them like a sword which..... is.... I mean sleeping with the sword in the middle was a thing to make sure the maiden stayed a maiden and he's the one who is like i CAN'T HAVE SEX WITH HER EVEN IF I WANT TO BECAUSE I'M TECHNICALLY SPYING ON THEM like... he's not... gallant-knight coded

never mind that the moment they do the do she basically does everything until he decides to try the oral which I mean... isn't exactly alphadominatingmale out of jon which is not a given with the trope he's supposed to represent like he's not smooth he's not suave he's like WHAT THE FUCK when ygritte tells him he has a pretty face bc most likely no one else told him that and he like... doesn't pursue people like that in general which is also not exactly 100% what that trope usually goes for

we can add that he has a lot of passive-aggressive little shit sarcasm in him that they didn't let him go for in the show but like... usually chosen heroes™ don't think what he thinks about selyse in general

we can also add that he's not automatically above being better than his position like... he doesn't take winterfell bc ygritte is dead but he did think he'd have taken the deal sansa or not if stannis had said he could marry her and not val and if she wasn't dead, he basically went off the rails at the dude he was fighting with thinking about robb telling him that he couldn't be lord of wf because he was a bastard and he's absolutely not in the frame of mind of 'well I was born a bastard who cares it doesn't define me'

he's obsessed to the point of unhealthy with actually being defined by it which is why he was better off with the wildlings aka the only idiots in the realm who don't gaf about that

and that's like... I mean usually if chosen ones™ have parental issues it's like 'you were an orphan and raised by asses who weren't your parents but your parents loved you and you'll find out at some point and you'll be happier for it and make your own family', jon is like... he has the mommy freudian issues of the century bc of how cat treated him, on the other side he's obsessed with living up to ned's/his father's name and he hates that it makes him not-belonging or that he feels like he doesn't even if he does with his siblings, and at the same time when the truth about it comes out he's going to get the cold shower of the century bc like - he's spent all that time thinking BUT DID MY MOTHER WANT ME WHO WAS MY MOTHER and he's going to find out of who it was and how he was born and honestly considering that lyanna most likely did regret running with rhaegar the moment he finds that out and that she died birthing him how is he going to feel? - also he spends his life wanting to live up to his 'father's' name aka ned aka someone known to be honorable to a fault and then it turns out his bio father is... the dude who started that entire rebellion not doing a very honorable thing? - also if jon*erys is a thing idt that he'd take 'I fell in love with my aunt' so nonchalantly as he did in the show tldr: he's never gonna get over his parental issues in a short time and when that particular brick hits him in the face it won't be pretty

like the entire point of jon is that he goes through all the chosenone™ cursus honorum as we'd call it in high school when studying latin but each step that means smth good for the usual chosenone™ to him is something bad, being one is not going to make his life better and throughout the entire thing he does not fit that stereotype when it comes to look, personality, basic traits and familial history and like hell he's going to have the happy ending tied up with the bow - like I think he gets a bittersweet one and eventually goes off with the wildlings bc he belongs there after being jon snow first of his name (bc like hell he's not reclaiming his bastard background at the end of this entire mess I'm eating my hat if he doesn't) after splitting the seven realms and fixing things but that's hardly the neat happy ending the chosenone™ usually gets so that's my two cents

... christ this was long *raises hands*

#jon snow #tagging for the lulz i guess #janie writes meta #ch: jon snow #long post for ts #tldr jon snow is a kurt cobain stan in disguise in westeros and chosenones™ aren't nirvana stan coded #and i'm dying on this hill xD

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spiderman-homecomeme · 4 years ago

Photo

nuts about you

It’s simple. Thirty days. All of November. No nutting allowed. Can Peter survive? A friends/roommates to lovers tale of stupid bets, sabotage, and most important of all, nuts.

thotumn. day 11. free prompt day finale.

Thank you @spideysmjs for organizing this magical month for us!! Because I am TOO impatient, I’m posting this a day early (also to keep my tradition of not posting things at the right time). Enjoy this purely goofy adventure.

Of all of the stupid ideas Peter and Ned have thought of in their ten-plus years of friendship, this one’s up there.

Easily in the top three.

No, it’s more than stupid. It’s ridiculous. It’s pointless. No one in their right mind actually thinks this is a good idea or that there’s any reason to do it. It’s an internet joke that’s too old, a meme that has no right being funny anymore. It’s run its course, and the guise of it raising awareness for anything other than the masturbation habits of penis-havers is complete and utter bullshit.

Again. It’s stupid.

Still, Peter Parker is not one to turn down a challenge, no matter how stupid. He’s nothing if not competitive. What can he say? If he won’t do it, who will?

This is what he considers as Ned lays it on the table for him.

All of November. Thirty days.

Peter doesn’t know how the conversation even started or how they ended up betting against each other in the world’s most moronic challenge. All he knows is that Ned is more than convinced that Peter is weak and won’t last. In fact, he’s so convinced that he’s willing to bet money on it. His reasoning ends up being that Peter isn’t strong enough.

And Peter? Well, he’s convinced that he will make it, that he can survive an entire month without giving in to his desires to bust a nut, to beat his meat, etc. etc. And he, too, is willing to bet money—a stupid amount, maybe more than a hundred—on his own success and his friend’s failure. He doesn’t want to appear too cocky, but he’s more than a hundred percent sure he’s got this in the bag. Yeah, it’s thirty days of cutting out one of Peter’s favorite pastimes—if not the favorite—but there’s no doubt in his mind that he’s more than capable of practicing a little restraint.

Still, confident as he is, there’s still that part of him that can’t help but dread the coming month the more and more he thinks about it.

“So, definitely thirty days?” Peter asks, eyes narrowing in thought. He tries to appear casual, as if the idea of no release for that amount of time isn’t a big deal. It’s more for clarification. “November has thirty days?”

Ned scoffs. “Yeah. Thirty days.”

“Any strikes? Any free coupons?”

“Nope.” Ned shakes his head with a soul-crushing finality. “Why? You don’t think you can make it?”

It’s Peter’s turn to scoff, face scrunching dramatically as he recoils. “What? No. I’m worried about you, man. What are you gonna do about Betty?”

Ned fixes him with a deadpan stare, clearly not buying whatever bullshit Peter’s trying to peddle. “A bet is a bet. She will respect that.”

“How can I trust you, though?” Peter asks, eyes narrowing in slight accusation. “You’re always at her place. I mean, how’ll I know you’re not lying?”

Ned glares. “How can I trust you?”

Peter sputters, desperately thinking of ways to throw a reverse Uno at this situation. “Wha—I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m—I’m single, man.”

Ned blinks. Once. Twice. “Do we need to talk about Felicia?”

“That was—”

“Cindy?”

“Dude—”

“Johnny? Jessica? Gwen—”

“I get it. I get it—”

“Carlie? Oh—Debbie? Caleb! Then there was Angela—”

Peter’s expression contorts into one of confusion. “Angela?” He tilts his head, squinting, searching for any kind of memory.

“Cute red head. You met her in line at Aldi.”

“Ahhh…” A knowing, borderline too-telling smile of recognition pulls at Peter’s lips. “Angela...” he sighs, almost dreamily. Okay, so maybe Ned has a point. But just because Peter enjoys the company of other people so much that he’s got his own version of Mambo No. 5, doesn’t mean he’s incapable of living without the warm touch of another human being or his hand.

Peter freezes, glancing at his friend. “Okay. Well. What do you want me to do about that? It’s not like I’m gonna call any of them up or anything. I have some sense of self-control.”

Again, Ned blinks.

“And besides, Felicia was freshman year… she’s our friend now. I don’t hook-up with her anymore.”

Another blink. “Dude.”

“Fine.” Peter huffs, whipping his phone out, eyes nearly rolling out of their sockets and onto the floor as he starts swiping through his contacts. “But I’m not deleting any of ‘em, okay?”

“Peter…”

“I’ll change their names! How ‘bout that?”

A beat passes of silent, overtly-judgmental staring on Ned’s part. He huffs after another second, throwing his hands up in defeat. “Fine.” Then, his frown shifts into a nonchalant smirk. “Whatever makes it easier for you to lose and me to win.”

“Please,” Peter scoffs. “I’m not the one with a girlfriend. You’re going down.” He tilts his head, narrowing his eyes, lips pursed in mock-contemplation as he points a finger. “Or I guess… Betty’s the one going down.”

Ned nearly chokes on his water holding back a snort. “Come on, man.”

Peter shrugs.

“Okay, well, are you gonna change the contact name for your right hand, too?”

It’s Peter’s turn to spit out a laugh.

But before he can even come up with another totally awesome comeback, he hears the jingling of keys, the clanking of locks as their roommate comes home after a long day of classes. All he sees is a flash of her curly hair before he’s tearing his gaze away from the front door, suddenly finding the pads of his thumbs to be pretty damn interesting.

“Hey, MJ,” Ned greets casually, as if they weren’t just sorting out a bet where neither of them are allowed to orgasm for an entire month.

“‘Sup.” Michelle flashes them a brief, closed-mouth grin as she makes for the refrigerator, swiping up some baby carrots and the brita filter.

Really, the conversation from earlier should be done there. Nothing else needs to be said. Especially not in front of their roommate.

But Peter can’t help himself.

“Let’s shake on it,” he says, putting his hand out, knowing that the more he keeps talking, the more danger he’s in of saying too much.

Ned takes it readily, eyes narrowed in determination. “Let’s.”

The corner of Peter’s lip twitches upward, but he holds it back. “No… Peanuts.”

“No walnuts.”

They have that understanding, speaking in the code that the two of them have just made up on the spot, something that Peter can’t help but feel pretty damn proud of.

MJ glances between the two, carrot half-way to her mouth, frozen in place, brows pinched in suspicion.

“Peter and I are giving up all nuts for the next month,” Ned says proudly, answering the question that she most certainly did not ask.

“Cool.”

Ned throws a not-as-subtle-as-he-thinks-it-is wink across the table, giving a just as subtle thumbs up from behind one of his stray history books.

Peter nods.

“Why?” Michelle asks, her question—one that shouldn’t have been as much of a surprise at is was—causing them both to exchange wary glances.

There’s a silence that follows, one that might clearly show that these two guys have no idea what kind of hole they’ve dug themselves into. Ned watches Peter expectantly. Peter glares back.

“Is it like a health thing?” MJ offers, popping another carrot into her mouth.

Peter nods a little too quickly. “Yeah. Health stuff.” His stomach flips when her gaze meets his, her eyes squinting as she chews thoughtfully.

“May thinks Peter might have a nut allergy,” Ned hastily spits out. When both sets of eyes land on him, he laughs. “So his allergist suggested going a month without ‘em. To see if that makes it better.”

And honestly, Peter thinks that’s a pretty damn good save.

The best part is that MJ seems to buy it. She nods. “So why are you doing it, Ned?”

“Solidarity,” Ned offers quickly.

Nice save.

“Ah,” MJ purses her lips, though she still doesn’t seem to care all that much. “Well, good luck. I guess. I know how much you guys… love… nuts? I guess?”

Peter nods solemnly.

When she turns back to grab a cup from the cabinet, he throws Ned a quick single nod.

Well played.

“So, Peter’s doing no nut November.”

Felicia nearly chokes, snorting as she struggles to keep her vanilla latte in her mouth. “What?” She asks after a dangerous second. They were supposed to be having a nice study sesh, reading about Bloom’s taxonomy, not talking about Peter’s nut habits.

“He and Ned made a stupid bet to see who could last the whole month,” MJ answers, taking a quiet sip of her London Fog. “Apparently they bet a lot of money on it.”

Felicia’s face scrunches in amused confusion. “Why?”

“Do they really need a reason to do dumb shit?”

Considering that for a second, Felicia nods with a satisfied frown. “Fair.”

“I bet against Peter, though,” MJ continues. “After he left, I made Ned let me in on it. There’s no way Pete can last the whole month, right? Not even a week.”

“Oh, definitely not,” Felicia vehemently shook her head. “I honestly feel like he’d spontaneously combust after, like, a day.” Then, she lets out a quiet snort. “Combust a nut.”

Michelle wrinkles her nose. “Ew.”

“But for real. He’s not gonna make it.”

“That’s what I said. Ned seems to have some faith in him though—no idea why. I told him that Peter wouldn’t even last a week… and now I guess I’m involved.”

“This would be so easy to sabotage though.”

“Right?”

“Seriously,” Felicia snorts. “All I’d have to do is hit him up one more time and he’s gone.” And then, in that next instant, her face lights up like a Christmas tree. “That’s it!” Before she says anything else, she’s pulling her phone out, quickly scrolling through, looking for God knows what. “Girl, I am gonna win that bet for you.”

MJ leans forward, curious, yet still cautious. She’s not sure if Peter hooking up again with Felicia is the best idea, given that relations within the friend group would just make things a giant, tangled up mess of complicated awkwardness. “How?” Michelle dares to ask, craning her neck to see what the hell Felicia’s doing on her phone.

Her friend is quiet for a moment, locked in concentration on her screen, bottom lip tucked between her teeth, brows knit together. Then, she cracks a satisfied, sly smile, turning her phone to show MJ just what she was looking for.

Simply; a picture of Felicia’s relatively new tattoo which, in and of itself, doesn’t seem like it would get Peter’s peter going. It’s pretty. Floral. Nothing to lose one’s mind over.

No, it’s more the placement.

It’s a tasteful shot, the simple flowers lining the underside of her breasts, her hands acting as makeshift pasties, just barely covering her nipples.

Still, though there’s no actual nudity, it’s enough to make MJ’s eyes bug out of her head for a moment before she’s realizing what she’s looking at.

“Okay. So?” Michelle waits for an explanation.

“I send him this,” Felicia says simply, pulling her phone back and (seemingly) drafting up the very message. “Ask if he wants a closer look at it.”

Michelle considers it a moment, knowing that there’s a very strong chance that Peter could almost immediately fall into such an obvious trap. The corners of her lips twitch into a casual frown. She shrugs. “Honestly. Yeah. That might work.”

“Might?” Felicia almost scoffs.

“You’re a genius.”

A smirk tugs at Felicia’s mouth as she leans back in her chair, swiping up to send the message before putting the phone down on the table. “I know.”

They sit in silence, the two of them watching the screen with bated breath. They both gasp when the read receipt pops up, followed by a dead silence. MJ can only imagine how stressed that boy must be, opening his phone, thinking it’s an innocent text from Felicia, then BAM, he’s vibe-checked by her boobs instead.

She holds back a snort, her stomach jumping into her throat seeing the dot-dot-dot pop up at the bottom of the screen. It’s almost as if she forgets to breathe, waiting to see what he’s going to say to such a blatant come on.

It’s like he’s typing a damn novel with how long it’s taking him though, and Michelle’s not sure she can take it much longer.

And then, her phone dings.

Felicia’s lips pull into a frown reading the message. “‘Wow. Looks cool! No thanks, though.’ Aaaaand,” she spins her phone for MJ to read it. “Thumbs-up emoji. Smiley face with sunglasses.”

Even MJ’s surprised at that response. Maybe Peter is really taking this No Nut November thing seriously. Maybe he’s not as weak as she thought. But… it doesn’t make any sense. Nothing’s adding up.

And with this confusion, there’s a sense of relief, knowing his response. Waiting wasn’t fun.

“Huh.” Felicia sighs, biting her lip in thought as she starts typing out another message and sending it.

“What did you say?” Michelle asks.

“I told him I’d been thinking about getting my nipples pierced and wanted to know what he thought.”

At that, Michelle snorts. “You’re an evil woman.”

Felicia shrugs innocently. “I think he’d really like ‘em.”

Truly, it’s a genius move. It’s something that Peter has to address; Felicia’s nipples. The idea of them being pierced. It’s too much for his brain to handle.

And again, just like before, they get into a staring contest with the conversation, watching as the read receipt pops up again, immediately followed by the ever-cruel ellipses as Peter no doubt struggles with a response that’s not too-eager.

But then, he completely throws them for another loop.

“‘I support you, friend!’ with…” Her eyes narrow. “A smiley face.”

“Wow,” Michelle says, genuinely surprised.

And Felicia seems just as shocked, if not a little offended that one of her oldest tricks in the book seem to have no effect whatsoever. “Did he just… friendzone me?” She asks, absolutely appalled.

“You were already friends before?” Michelle laughs.

“But in this context?” She huffs, shaking her head. A beat passes where all she does is stare at her phone. “That’s weird,” she says slowly, lips quirking into a confused frown. “Huh.”

“There, there,” Michelle deadpans, patting her friend stiffly on the hand.

Felicia laughs. “It’s fine…” She draws out. “A hit to the ego is good for me every once in a while.”

“Oh my God,” MJ rolls her eyes. “You’re still hot. Don’t worry.”

With a sad, a little over-dramatic nod, Felicia’s frown deepens as she pretends to wipe at her eyes. “Yeah. I am.”

“I can’t believe that didn’t work,” MJ muses. Really, she can’t. Peter’s perhaps the easiest person she knows—and there’s nothing wrong with that at all; it’s just a fact of life. The sky is blue. Grass is green. Peter is a thot.

“I guess he’s really following through with this whole no nut thing…” Felicia’s brow furrows as she recoils. “How much money did he bet anyway?”

“A hundred.”

“Oh my God.”

“Yeah.”

“How much did you put in?”

“...A hundred.”

“MJ!”

“Listen!” Michelle reasons, holding her hands up in defense. “This is gonna be the easiest two hundred dollars I’ve ever made.”

Felicia sits back, clearly impressed. “Does Peter know you’re in on it?”

“Nope,” MJ says, emphasizing the ‘p’ with an audible pop.

“Well—” Felicia starts, shifting in her seat, crossing one leg over the other. “—I’m sure you’ll find some way to make that boy give in. Sorry I couldn’t help.”

Michelle lets out a light snort. “It’s okay. You tried.”

“If I think of anything else, I’ll let you know.”

But honestly, MJ already has a vague idea of what her next step is.

And it brings her to his bedroom, to his desk, messing with his laptop while he’s out for his Sunday patrol. His password is entirely too easy to guess—really, you’d think a guy as smart as Peter would have something a little more complicated than “webshooter69.”

If there’s anything she knows about Peter—maybe a little too much about her friend—is that while he mostly enjoys the company of a flesh and blood human being, he’s not above the occasional perusing of adult websites.

The guy likes porn.

The plan is to make his chrome homepage one of his regular sites. Confront him with the images that really get him going.

She browses through his history, hoping that he hadn’t thought to delete everything or go incognito. And… luckily for her, that particular idea seemed to have slipped his mind entirely. Literally not even a week out and she’s found a slightly-more-than-nefarious-looking website.

Easy enough.

And it’s exactly what she’s looking for. Nudity galore. There doesn’t seem to be a corner of the site that doesn’t have a boob or a butt. It is truly Peter’s domain.

For a moment, she wonders if she should make the homepage specifically something he searches for… his favorite genre perhaps.

She shakes the thought away immediately. It’s too invasive. Besides, the front page should be more than enough—there’s literally a video that frustratingly autoplays every time she goes back to that one page. And why would she need to know what Peter likes? There’s no reason for that. At all.

Making sure to close out of everything before logging out, she slams the laptop shut, sprinting out of his room as if he was just about to get home. Her heart races as she slams her own bedroom door behind her, catching her breath proving to be more difficult than usual.

And now, she waits.

It turns out, she doesn’t have to wait very long.

That evening, in fact, after Peter’s come back for dinner.

He takes his time microwaving his leftovers from the day before, whistling to himself as he bounces around the kitchen. The whole time it feels like MJ’s just holding her breath, anticipating his early demise the instant he opens up chrome on his laptop. And honestly, this does feel like a low blow, like she’s just snatching up that low-hanging fruit—God, MJ, phrasing—but then she’s reminded that this, again, is the easiest two hundred dollars she will ever earn.

And then she feels a little less bad about what she’s done.

The second he’s finished with his food and disappears into his room, her eyes are on his door, and then it occurs to her that there’s not really a way that she can know he’s, well, “lost.” It’s all based on his own honor, if he’ll admit to succumbing to his most basic need. She likes to think that he would, though. Peter’s too much of a good, honest guy—hiding his secret identity aside—that he couldn’t lie to his friends about it.

Ned comes home not two minutes later, deflating on the other side of the couch.

“Rough day?” MJ asks, the teasing hint to her tone not going unnoticed.

Ned rolls his eyes. “Told Betty I was doing this whole month thing.”

MJ winced. “Yikes.”

“Yeah,” Ned chuckles.

“Well, if it helps, this whole thing is probably gonna end in—” she checks her phone. “—five or so minutes.”

Ned’s gaze darts right and left. “What… What do you mean?”

Before she can answer, Peter yelps from the other side of his door. There’s a loud crash that sounds suspiciously like a laptop being yeeted across the room in a hasty, knee-jerk reaction. Before either she or Ned can move, Peter’s bursting through his door, eyes blown wide, his face drained of all color, and he’s frozen in place, one hand gripping the doorframe.

And it takes everything in her not to grin. “Everything okay?”

Peter coughs, scratching the back of his neck, before his gaze lands on Ned in a challenging glare. “DUDE. Not cool.”

Poor Ned looks as confused as ever, his jaw dropping, brows pinching together as he glances between the two. “I—What—what are you talking about?”

Peter narrows his eyes even more.

“Did I hear something break?” MJ asks carefully, as not to seem too suspicious.

He startles at her voice, sputtering out a response that mostly sounds like the macaroni glue art of sentences. “Oh—uh—no. It—It was the—the laptop. There was—a thing. And—I just kinda—threw it.” He laughs nervously. “It’s fine though. Not—not broken. All good—” He throws some finger guns. “—in the hood.”

Her lips twist as she nods.

Peter nods back, hands in his back pockets as he starts to retreat back into his room—though not before throwing another I’m watching you glare at Ned.

As soon as the door clicks shut, Ned’s in full interrogation mode.

“MJ, what did you do?”

She shrugs, toying with the loose thread of her hoodie. “Nothing much. Just… Set his default homepage to some porn. No biggie.”

Ned’s jaw drops, thoroughly scandalized, but there’s a hint of amusement behind his eyes. “Dude… That’s evil.”

Michelle gives another shrug.

So, her second plan had failed. Even after surprise-porn, Peter’s still in the running. He’s still holding out. Almost a two days into November, and he is surviving, a surprise to everyone involved, and already, MJ’s running out of ideas. Well, good—plausible ideas. There are plenty of ways she’s sure she could compromise him. Take him to a strip-club maybe, but there’s not a doubt in her mind that he’d be able to pick up on what she was doing. There’s no way he’d fall for it.

Hiring an escort was definitely out of the question.

Theoretically, both of those could work. Were they good plans? No. Absolutely not.

He’s already turned down a previous hook-up. He broke his laptop out of the sheer panic that seeing porn brought him.

There doesn’t seem to be much more that she can do.

It’s not until the next day, as she’s walking the clothing section of Target with Felicia that she’s struck with an idea.

Felicia specifically striking her with said idea.

They’re in the middle of the sleepwear section, MJ mindlessly rifling through the fuzzy sock bin, when she nearly collides with the underwear display. She’s distracted for a moment, wondering if it’s too soon since she’s bought new underwear to justify taking advantage of the sale, when Felicia nudges her with her elbow.

“Peter’s really into pretty underwear,” she says as if they’re not in the middle of Target. As if there’s not a mom and two kids in the actual pajama section two displays over.

Michelle recoils slightly, startled. “What?”

“He’s like, really into it,” she says, taking a casual sip of her iced coffee, reaching over to pick up a particularly lacy number. “Just saying. Might be useful.”

For some reason, MJ feels a strange heat rise to her cheeks. “I’m not gonna put these on for him!”

Felicia smirks, holding a hand up in defense. “Who said anything about you wearing it? You can just… leave it lying around for him to find, or something.” She tilts her head to the side, both brows raising. “Jeez, MJ.”

“Oh…” Michelle says, though her face still burns. “Right.”

It’s not a bad idea. In fact, it’s pretty good. If Peter’s as into fancy underwear as Felicia says he is, then maybe leaving them around like some kind of weird scavenger hunt is the best plan. She doesn’t buy much, picking a pair of relatively cheap lace and polyester. She could use her own underwear for this, but… that would be weird right?

(As if this isn’t weird enough already.)

And besides, the ones she’s buying are a little more extra in that department. They aren’t meant to be worn for long, not from comfort.

They’re perfect.

She feels like some kind of underwear fairy, planting them somewhere in the apartment, making sure they’re hidden, yet visible in a place that Peter frequents; it sticks up between the couch cushions, not subtle in the slightest. The second Peter’s butt hits that couch, he’ll see them. There’s no other way around it.

It becomes another waiting game as she sits in the living chair, knees curled into her chest as she pretends to read quietly. It’s pretend because she can’t focus long enough on any single letter to let her brain absorb anything on the pages. Finally, the front door opens. Peter greets her with a cheery smile, making immediately for the kitchen.

Good. Yes. He gets his after class snack. Important.

Just as she’d planned.

He emerges not two minutes later, bag of cheese crackers in hand as he launches himself over the back of the couch. “‘Sup?” he asks after shoving a mouthful of Cheez-its into his face.

Michelle wrinkles her nose, her eyes unconsciously darting between the guy on the couch and the panties peeking out from the cushions. “Reading,” she offers, brandishing the very unread book.

Peter nods, tearing his gaze from hers after a beat and reaching for the remote. When he sits back, his hand brushes the cheap lace and he pauses, curious as he looks down to see what he touched.

All of this while MJ desperately pretends not to notice.

When he picks the pair up though, his brows pinch together, at first unsure as to what he’s actually looking at. “Uh…”

At that, MJ looks up, seeing right as the realization sets in.

Of course, she plays dumb—by staying silent.

Peter quickly looks to her, eyes wide as if he’s seen a ghost. “It’s—it’s not—these aren’t—” His lips press together as he forces a breath through his nose. “I—Oh god—”

And then, for a split-second, she feels the slightest bit guilty. Is this actually a good plan or is she just tricking him into getting a boner over cheap department store undies? That, and is she technically lying to him by not claiming the offending undergarments? By making him freak out over nothing?

He seems to be having some sort of existential crisis, wondering if these really are from some recent hook-up and the psychological effect of not nutting in three days has caused him to forget.

This was a terrible idea.

She has to put him out of his misery.

“Oh, shit. Those—” Her laugh is breathy, short. “—Those are mine.”

And instantly, Peter drops the thong, as if his hands had been burned. “Oh!” he coughs, his gaze straining as if he’s trying to keep his eyes on her face. “S—Sorry.” He swallows.

“Yeah.” Rising on legs that are shaky—from sitting so oddly in the chair for so long—she goes to snatch up the baby pink lace, clutching it behind her back before Peter can get another look. “Sorry. Must’ve forgot. Uh, when I did… Laundry.”

Peter nods, breathing out a chuckle. “Yeah. Yeah. S’fine.” He waves her off, scratching the back of his neck.

But even after that, Peter still seems off. For some reason, he still doesn’t seem to be able to look at her for more than a split-second. He doesn’t say anything else, sitting in silence, his cheese crackers long forgotten on the coffee table.

Michelle wonders if she should say something else. Break the tension. It’s awkward, obviously, because he feels weird about touching his friend’s underwear. Anyone would, really. He touched something that theoretically would be on her body; something that normally, he thinks is really sexy, or whatever.

After another minute of some good old soul-crushing silence, Peter stands, excusing himself to his room without another word.

Huh. Weird.

It’s the movie night that finally gives her that clarity she’s been looking for; that moment where everything clicks into place, and she can finally see how she’s going to win this.

Ned’s out with Betty, leaving her and Peter alone not for the first time.

She and Peter are sitting on the couch together, her head resting on his shoulder—because that’s what friends do, obviously—the two of them sharing a gray fuzzy blanket. This is a normal occurrence. They’re close enough in their friendship that some occasional cuddling isn’t too weird. Especially given how chilly it’s been lately. And, it’s comfy. Just some nice head-to-shoulder contact.

But later in the movie, when MJ starts to get dangerously sleepy, feeling herself drooping further and further, unable to completely pull herself back to reality. Things are fuzzy, almost dreamlike, as she just pulls herself up from his shoulder, giving up entirely on watching the movie and just grumpily laying down right on his lap, his thigh her make-shift pillow.

This isn’t weird.

It’s normal.

She’s sleepy.

And Peter’s a surprisingly comfy pillow.

Peter doesn’t even have time to ask what she’s doing before she’s just nestling further into his lap. She misses the pure dread and panic that flashes across his face when her head lines up with his head. There’s no safety here. Just a few wrong movements, and she’ll definitely know what’s up. She’ll be an unwitting tourist to Boner City, population: one.

Peter has to do something. He can’t let this continue. Having his best friends head just straight up on his crotch is not helpful in the slightest.

“MJ,” he gently nudges her, grimacing slightly when she just burrows further into him.

He nudges her again, and she grumbles, finally opening her eyes and looking up at him. She puts a hand on his thigh to steady herself.

Peter swallows.

“What?” She asks, not opening her eyes.

“I uh—” Peter can’t seem to speak, trying desperately to come up with some excuse as to why he has to get the fuck out of there. “—I gotta pee.”

She cracks an eye open skeptically. “But I’m comfy,” she emphasizes her point by—once again—snuggling her face into his lap.

Peter’s about to lose his damn mind.

In MJ’s defense, this had started with the best intentions. She truly was just wanting to lay down and sleep on her friends lap—again, a perfectly normal thing—but now… even through the haze of sleep, she’s seeing how much this is effecting him.

It hadn’t occurred to her until now, that she could be the one that makes him “crack.” They’re just friends. Sure, she thinks he’s attractive, and yeah, maybe she’s had the one or two or three sexy dreams about him before (even some soft, fluffy ones), but that doesn’t mean she thinks about him in that way.

He's just Peter.

Sweet, adorable, kinda hot Peter.

Again, she doesn't think about him that way.

But she supposes it makes sense. Really, she should have known before putting her head on his crotch that he might get a little flustered from the proximity, that it might remind him of certain things. It's just the body's physiological reaction to a stimulus; the stimulus being her head. It's simple science.

So then, it would also only make sense for her to take advantage of that physiological response she's able to get out of him. Maybe not right at this second, given she's been a little blindsided by this whole thing. But maybe now she can rethink her gameplan. Now she has access to tools she didn't know she had access to before.

Her own sensuality.

She can certainly use that.

And it's not as if she'll do anything too out there. Just... make him feel the heat—the pressure—just a little bit. Make him sweat.

Felicia's of course delighted by this development, giving her full support in "seducing Parker into busting a nut."

(Her words, not MJ's.)

She'd also said something about how it's about time, but that'd been promptly ignored—mainly because MJ didn't know what the hell Felicia was talking about.

The problem is now, though, Michelle's not exactly sure where to start. After Peter had made a dead sprint to the bathroom the night before, he's been a little more, shall we say, cautious, around her. He bounces on his feet, trying desperately to appear casual, acting as if nothing was weird about their movie night.

She only has three days left in the week, so she has to think.

And fast.

Peter's not sure if MJ's up to something, but he can't help but feel as though she's acting... strange. First, the underwear thing, which made him feel all kinds of flustered and weird, and then her head being dangerously close to his dick. It's a lot. She can't possibly know about this No Nut thing, right? She wasn't there, and Ned wouldn't have told her... right?

Still, he tries to avoid her as much as he can, ready to fly away the second she's in the same room as him.

Truthfully, he's always had maybe the tiniest crush on his best friend. It's faded in and out over the years, especially in their college years. But it's always been there, even if just the ghost of one. And now, he's starting to see maybe how bad of an idea this was in the first place—No Nut November. His roommate is literally probably the prettiest person in the world and he's being constantly reminded of the one thing he definitely should not be thinking about under any circumstances if he wants to win. It's a disaster that should have never happened in the first place. This could have been prevented, he thinks.

He's not sure how he didn't think about that when he'd agreed to do this.

He just knows that he has to do something, though he's not sure what.

But any and all ideas of how to protect himself instantly leave his mind, crashing his brain, when he comes back to the apartment the next day to find it sweltering. He looks at the thermostat, thoroughly confused to find the heater set to eighty. He peels off his jacket, recoiling when the humid air sticks to his skin. It's hot. Too hot. Even for early November. It's not that cold outside.

He's about to call out for his roommates when MJ emerges from her room, and he feels like he has to pick his jaw up from the floor.

Her shorts are too short for it being fall. They show too much of her legs for his eyes to not be immediately drawn to them. Her white tank top is tight against her skin, hugging her form in a way that almost makes him jealous. And then, it's almost too much, too dangerous, when he can very clearly tell that she's apparently decided to forgo a bra for the evening.

"Oh, hey Pete!" She says, as if she's not looking like that.

"Hey—hey. Em..." He clears his throat.

Dear God. It's been less than a week. Hold it together.

"Is it..." Peter swallows. "Is it hot in here? The—the heat? Is it—is it on?"

MJ's eyes widen a fraction.

"Oh, yeah. It is," she replies casually. "Is that okay? I was just a little cold."

"So you turn it up to—" Peter stops, craning his neck to look at the thermostat on the wall. "—eighty-two?"

She glances left and right, as if there's nothing wrong with that temperature whatsoever. "Yeah," she says with a nonchalant shrug, her lips tugging into a frown. After a beat, she lets out a faint snort, apparently finding something particularly funny, before turning to the fridge. She opens the freezer, sighing as the cool air hits her face.

Peter doesn't realize he's staring as she reaches in, pulling out a box from the top shelf. When he sees what's in the box, he knows that his doom is near. It's bright, colorful. It's popsicles. He has to leave immediately if he knows what's good for him, if he has any sense of sanity left. She grabs a crinkling wrapper from inside the box, casually whipping it out. She holds one out to him.

"Want one?" She offers.

Peter can only shake his head, swallowing a near-silent, voice-cracking, "Nope."

And it's at this point, as she shuts the freezer door, as she starts peeling the wrapper off the way-too-phallic popsicle, that he knows he should run. It's not safe here.

But he's frozen in place, trying to burn his gaze into the intricacies of the granite countertops, tapping his fingers in an erratic rhythm.

He's an idiot, for sure, because he looks up at exactly the wrong time, right as she wraps her lips around the tip of the pop, her eyes meeting his for a fraction of a second.

How can it only be eighty-two in here?

Thankfully, he gains some sense, tearing himself away from the counter and going over to actually turn down the thermostat. "Is it okay if I—" He coughs. "—Turn this back down?"

"Sure." MJ doesn't stop him. She wets her lips, hiding her satisfied smirk by taking the popsicle deeper into her mouth.

But again, he makes the fatal mistake of looking at her again, because now... well, now she's just messing with him. She has to be.

No one eats a popsicle like that.

When he thinks it can't get worse, she has the fucking audacity to hum as she pushes it further into her mouth. "This is so good," she says, half-way a moan.

Who actually says that about a fucking popsicle?

It's evil, truly it is, because it makes him imagine her swirling her tongue around it inside her mouth, and suddenly, the tightness in his pants gets even more uncomfortable.

He hurries to somewhere else in the kitchen, pouring himself a nice glass of water. It's still too hot in here. MJ sidesteps him easily, still inappropriately eating—sucking off—her popsicle. And he nearly chokes, because as his eyes meet hers again, she takes the damn thing out of her mouth—he thinks he's safe, but oh no—she slips her tongue out, licking a long stripe up the base, swirling it around the tip before taking it into her mouth again.

"What?" She asks—she fucking asks—when he can't look away.

And unsurprisingly, Peter can't speak. Can't even get a single syllable out.

"Is my tongue red?" She asks, sticking said tongue out that was just seconds before all over the popsicle.

"I'm gonna go hop in the shower," Peter spits out, dropping his water in the sink and making a mad dash to the bathroom, not waiting for a response.

A shower is what he needs right now.

A nice, cold shower.

He needs to take a deep breath. Think of not sexy things. Things that don't make his life out to be a bad porno.

Then, he needs to leave. Hide in the forest. Live among the trees, away from temptation, until November is over. Only then can he be at peace.

That's it!

Trees. Nature. Forests. Cold. Snow. MJ in the snow. Kissing MJ in the snow—NO.

NO.

He slams the bathroom door, leaning back against it. He heaves out a shaky sigh, running a hand over his face in frustration. How he can possibly survive the rest of the month, he has no idea.

MJ has to be messing with him, right? There’s absolutely no way in hell she’s not doing this on purpose. And why? Why is she torturing him like this? What has Peter ever done in his life to deserve this torment? It isn’t fair.

No matter how desperately he wants to take care of the not-so-little problem in his jeans, he holds himself back, clenching every muscle in his body as he switches on a very cold shower. He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to will the image of Michelle—his best friend and roommate—eating a popsicle out of his mind. It has absolutely no right to be there.

And still, as Peter stands under the stream of freezing water, letting it run down his back and front as he holds himself up with one hand, he can’t help but think that the worst is yet to come. That somehow, someway, MJ would top simulating a blow job on an ice pop. He doesn’t know how she’d do it, but he knows it’s coming.

He must be ready.

Not to MJ’s surprise, Peter avoids her the rest of the day. He keeps his head down, not daring to even glance up at her as he walks past. Weirdly enough, this is a good sign. It confirms her hypothesis that her actions can have some sort of an effect on him. It helps her to know what to do next.

And, well…

She’d be lying if she said it weren’t at least a little bit thrilling.

There’s something deep inside her that finds all of this so interesting, so amusing. She wants to know how far she can go, how hard she can push before he cracks under the pressure. And the fact that it’s her that has all this power over him—it’s certainly a revelation.

But still, even if this is “fun,” she can be professional about this. She would never let it get “too far,” whatever that would be. No, the goal here isn’t to seduce her way into Peter’s pants, but to seduce him—innocently—enough that he just does it to himself.

Her next plan might be a little more unfair, a little more direct, and perhaps a little more daring than the last one.

And—she should add—much more difficult than she had anticipated.

For one, she just can’t seem to get the right angle, holding her phone above her body, making sure to get both the underside of her breasts—a tasteful amount of boob, thank you very much—and the same cheap, pretty pink undies she bought from Target. It’s awkward, tilting and twisting her phone, her thumb just barely reaching the shutter button. The first few shots aren’t anything to be particularly proud of. Too blurry, her arm cramping up from holding the camera up so long. This isn’t something she’s really done before, given she’s never seen the appeal. Why send pics when you could just, you know, show them the real thing?

But for some reason, it makes her heart climb into her throat, makes her face almost unbearably warm.

It’s when she changes her positioning on her bed, finding some nice light filtering in from the early evening sun. Golden hour has always proven to be exceptionally kind to her. She finds a decent pose, covering both breasts with her forearm, arching her back, making sure to get that perfect “booty tooch” that would make Tyra proud. She breathes out in an attempt to cool her heated nerves, parting her lips in a way that’s sure to incite some kind of reaction.

Click.

And then, she’s got the shot.

Okay, technically it’s not a nude, but there’s something about the idea of sending this picture to Peter of all people that gets her stomach twisting in knots.

And as her hand hovers over the send button, her heart hammers in her chest, hesitation holding her still. She takes her bottom lip in her teeth, beginning to wonder if this is the best idea. Her plan had been to send the picture, play it off as some kind of mistake, and hope that he goes to… take care of himself. Sure, it might get a reaction out of Peter—one big enough that causes him to give up this whole no nut thing—but it almost feels as if she’s crossing some kind of line.

Miming a blow job on a popsicle was one thing—one that she can’t decide if she’s proud of or not. That was just a performance. It wasn’t something she was doing to Peter. This—sending him a racy picture when he’s literally in the next room—is a direct interference.

Plus, there’s no telling what this would do to their friendship. It could ruin everything. Catastrophically.

Awkward would be an understatement.

She puts her phone face down on the mattress, avoiding the picture all together, before getting up and pulling on one of her comfy robes.

God, all of this was a terrible idea.

Wallowing in her own self-pity and regret, she flops back down onto the bed, grabbing her phone with the intention of deleting the picture once and for all. It’s still there in the text conversation, just waiting to be sent. She scoffs, shaking her head at herself, only for her heart to stop in her chest when—in her frazzled state—she hits “send” instead of that little “x.”

“SHIT.”

No no no no no NONONONONO.

She drops her phone immediately, wrapping her robe tighter around herself as she scrambles for her bedroom door, nearly tripping over her rug in the process.

Peter’s sitting on the couch, blissfully unaware, when his phone pings. And to Michelle’s utter horror, he picks it up.

“NO!” MJ shouts, jumping on top of him. It’s a futile attempt really, seeing as her best friend—she stupidly forgets—is an actual superhero.

Peter yelps as she pushes him down into the couch, tumbling onto the floor, holding his phone away from her grabby hands as she straddles his hips. “What the fuck—” And while he could push her off of him with a ridiculous amount of ease, he stills, becoming suddenly aware of their precarious position.

“Gimme your phone!” Her voice comes out in a half-plea, half-demand. All panic.

Peter still holds it away from her, his own brand of panic flashing across his features when his other hand naturally falls at her hip. He yanks it away, instead holding her back by the shoulder. “Why?”

It’s also then that he sees what she’s wearing—or rather, what she isn’t wearing.

And in his distraction, Michelle snatches his phone, instinctively throwing it across the room. She winces apologetically when he looks up at her, jaw dropped and brow wrinkled.

“What the hell, MJ—”

“—I’m sorry! I panicked!”

“Why?!”

“I—”

It’s then, as they both stare at each other in shock, that they both realize the position they’re in—but neither of them seem to be able to move away, frozen solid on the living room floor.

Peter can feel his heart beating relentlessly in his ears, his throat suddenly going dry when he notices how tightly Michelle’s thighs are holding him in place. Another problem starts to arise when he sees how her cotton robe is pooled around their aligned hips, his eyes catching the sliver of shiny pink underwear when one side falls back. “What—” He clears his throat, his voice coming out uncharacteristically breathy. “—What was on my… my phone?”

“Uh—” She presses her lips together. “A picture.”

Peter’s gaze drifts lower for a split second, dipping to the exposed dip in her chest, drawn to the rise and fall with each breath. “Of?”

“Me?”

“You?”

MJ breathes out a laugh, glancing down. “I, uh—accidentally sent… You a picture. Well—I meant to send it to you, not that like, it wasn’t for you, but I kinda decided not to send it… and then… I did. Accidentally.”

And even though he’s trying everything in his power to keep his eyes on her face, he can’t help the way they seem to travel lower and lower with each second. He’s confused at first, but then, it hits him, like a train, what exactly that picture was. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

The air crackles between them, static in their ears. Michelle finds her own gaze drifting lower, lingering on his parted lips, a warmth pooling in the pit of her stomach. She shifts slightly, her breath catching as she suddenly feels the hardness pressing into the inside of her thigh. Peter stares up at her, something in his eyes bringing her closer, inch by inch. The warmth and weight of both of his hands tentatively, slowly moving to her waist causes something to ignite within her, and in a split-second, her lips are on his.

Michelle’s surprised to find herself… well—surprised—at how this kiss doesn’t immediately turn into an all tongue-and-teeth, ripping-eachother’s-clothes-off kiss. It’s sweet. Slow and tender—as if the two of them are savoring it. Nothing like she’d expected Peter to be capable of. Nothing like how he’d painted himself to be from all of his hook-up stories.

And she’s not entirely sure who’s “fault” it is when it turns into more.

It could be the way she’s subtly grinding her hips against his, her body alight with the friction.

It could be how his tongue swipes over her bottom lip, innocently at first.

It could be her soft, breathy whines as one of his hands moves lower to cup her ass, pulling her closer, the new angle against his hardness bringing an indescribable feeling.

And then again, it could be her robe starting to fall off her shoulders—she’s not sure who starts that, but all of a sudden she’s feeling cool air on her skin.

She almost smiles into the kiss, thinking about how easily and quickly this “chaste” kiss had shifted.

And it’s immediately after that thought that she snaps out of it.

“Wait!” She says, pulling back and sitting up—but still staying in Peter’s lap. Before this can go any further, she has to tell him the truth. He has to be able to… back out of it.

Where this sudden sense of generosity’s come from, she has no idea.

He follows, sitting up with her, brows creasing, his expression a concoction of worry and panic. “Oh, fuck. I’m so sorry—”

“No!” She puts a hand on his shoulder after fixing her robe. Her thumb smooths over the fabric of his shirt. “No. It’s… fine. I just…” Surprisingly, she finds herself chuckling, unable to bite back her smile as he looks at her with concern.

“What is it, Em?”

It’s the nickname for her nickname that does it for her. Truly.

“You good?” He asks, wincing as she shifts in his lap again.

“Yeah, uh—” She coughs, trying unsuccessfully to hide the way her lips are twitching violently as she fights her smile. It takes her more than a few moments, the deep breaths she’s taking not doing all that much to help mask the humor in her tone. “—I know about No Nut November.”

At first, Peter’s confused, staring back at her with furrowed brows, his mouth in a cute little ‘o’. He tries to play dumb, maybe thinking that he can get away with one final attempt to save his pride—letting out a nervous chuckle, scratching the back of his neck, he shrugs. “Yeah, my new diet. Crazy, huh?”

She blinks, blankly staring at him. “Peter.” There’s some amusement there, especially as she pointedly glances down to their current position.

“What?” He asks dumbly.

“Ned told me.”

Peter curses, wincing. “Damn it, Ned.”

“Yeah…” In a strange, very unwelcome bout of insecurity, Michelle removes her hands from Peter’s shoulders, twiddling her fingers together in front of her. “I made him tell me… and I kinda… also made him let me in on the bet.”

His eyes nearly bug out of his head. “What?!”

“We kinda made our own bet that like… If you lasted less than a week, I would get all the money.”

“You didn’t think I’d last a week?” Peter almost takes offense at that, even if there’s merit to her prediction. “Damn, MJ…”

“I mean… I also wanted to win. So… I kinda tried—or I guess have been trying… to sabotage you?”

At that, his jaw drops. “No! Wait—You—What? I—” He stammers like that, his brain short-circuiting as she still watches from his lap. “That was—what? The porn? On my laptop?”

MJ nods, grimacing.

“The… underwear? Just in the couch?”

“Yeah…��

“And you were gonna…” He looks down at her, the cotton robe still just barely tied around her—the journey his eyes make also coinciding with his mouth going dry once again. “...That picture you took…?”

She nods again, looking down at her hands.

“Putting your head on my lap?!” He asks, as if he of all people is scandalized.

“That wasn’t part of the plan. That was kinda what helped me figure out that… I could just… do it myself.”

“Oh my God,” he puts a hand on his face. “The popsicle. The fucking popsicle.”

“That was probably my best work, honestly.”

“That was so cruel.”

And when he laughs, his eyes crinkling, she starts to see that maybe this will all be okay, and a sense of relief fills her chest. “Yeah, sorry. I also had Felicia help.”

“You put her up to that?!”

“Nah. She offered. I felt kinda weird about it—” She says the last part without realizing it, immediately shutting her mouth.

“That’s why I said no,” Peter replies.

It’s Michelle’s turn to be surprised. “What? Really? I thought it was just ‘cause you were so dedicated to this whole no nut thing.”

“I mean, yeah, I was but—” He laughs, reaching a hand up to smooth the curls at the base of his neck. “—I just… felt weird about it. With you guys being friends and all.”

The way MJ’s heart flutters is strange, but not entirely unwelcome. “Why would that be weird?”

“Why did you think it’d be weird?” He throws back, his lips twisting into a curious grin.

And not for the first time when talking to Peter, Michelle feels all knowledge of the English language leave her body. It’s strange, how much confidence she can have while literally dry-humping him on the living room floor, but how scared she can be trying to explain something about how she feels.

She only shrugs.

A beat passes, and still, Michelle can’t bring herself to move.

“So…” Peter draws out after another moment. “All that—” he clears his throat. “—stuff… that was just to win that bet?”

“Well, I mean—yeah?” The look of hurt on his face makes her heart lurch in her chest. She’s quick to correct herself. “But—I… I think maybe that could be a good thing.”

His brows raise in careful curiosity, though he still seems apprehensive. “A good thing?” He asks slowly.

Michelle nods, swallowing. “Uh—Yeah. ‘Cause… If I hadn’t then I wouldn’t have figured out that—um… I might—” It’s weird, how frustrating it is that she can’t seem to find the words she wants to say, that her brain seems to have completely abandoned her in her greatest, most dire time of need. And this shouldn’t be this hard. She’s an adult. She’s in her third year of college.

Confessing the feelings that you’ve just realized you have for your best friend since high school should be easy right?

Right?

And she’s only just figured this out. In the last five seconds. That all these years of weird feelings, long glances, warm faces has actually lead to something, they’ve actually meant something other than a weird stomach bug or whatever.

All it took was attempted sabotage during No Nut November for her to realize that.

The power it has.

“MJ?”

His voice grabs her attention; the caution in his tone snapping her gaze to his. And for a moment, she just looks at him, mouth hanging open as she tries to say something, anything. But still, she can’t.

So, she does the next best thing.

She kisses him—again—trying her best to put all of the words she can’t seem to figure out into it. And although he kisses her back—easily—he doesn’t seem to understand what she means, because he pulls away not ten seconds later.

“Listen—MJ—” Peter stammers, running a jittery hand through his hair as he breathes out a huff of laughter. “—I don’t think I can do—” He gestures between the two of them. “—This… if it’s just… casual.”

So, he really didn’t get it, and now, she’s feeling the impatience creeping up her neck.

“I really like you, MJ,” he confesses, and for a moment, she’s not sure if she heard him right, or if she heard him speak at all. Her brain must be playing some nasty, cold-hearted trick on her, because Peter—perpetually single and ready to mingle Peter—just said that he liked her.

God, she feels like she’s a teenager again. It feels so high school, the amount of butterflies in her stomach hearing him say that.

Even more so when she finds herself responding automatically, “I really like you, too.”

“Cool,” he says lamely, his breathless chuckle making her heart flutter in her chest.

He doesn’t waste another second before he tugs her back to him, capturing her lips to his, one of his hands moving to cup the underside of her jaw. She tilts her head, letting out a gentle sigh as he deepens the kiss. His tongue brushes against her lips before slipping into her mouth. The weight of his other hand on her waist is comforting in a way, heavy and solid as he holds her in place.

Truly, she hadn’t expected any of her plans from earlier in the week to come to this.

Instinctively, her hand snakes down to his hips, sliding underneath the hem of his t-shirt and dragging across his stomach, smiling into the kiss as his muscles twitch underneath her touch. It’s then, as her hand dips even lower, palming him over his sweats that he seems to snap out of whatever trance she put him in.

He grabs her wrist—gently, of course—pulling it away and breaking the kiss.

His chest is heaving with each breath, the corner of his mouth twitching upward in an apologetic smile. “I—I can’t—the… the bet.”

And it dawns on Michelle then, that she’s been cockblocked by No Nut November.

Even though she tries to appear understanding, he must be able to see the disappointment in the twist of her lips, the way she nods quietly.

“But—” He starts, pressing his mouth together into a thin line. He nudges her, pointing his finger as he’s hit with a revelation, talking slowly. “—You’re not… doing… No Nut November…”

MJ lets out a surprised laugh, shifting in his lap as her face warms even more. A beat passes as she stares at him, giving him a chance to take it back. “Are you sure?” She finally asks.

Peter nods quickly, insistently. He’s got this. Clearly. “Oh. Yeah. Definitely. I’ll be fine.”

Yeah, she’s not sure how much of that she actually believes.

Probably none of it.

But, that doesn’t mean she’s turning down the offer.

“Okay…” She trails off, unable to bite back her grin at the brief self-doubt that flashes across his features. “What do you—what do you wanna do?” She asks, her face burning, suddenly finding herself the slightest bit tongue tied. It takes everything in her to at least look calm and not like she’s about a half-second away from just jumping his bones.

Or, one in particular.

Peter clears his throat, the tips of his ears turning an adorable shade of red. “Uh—” He huffs out a laugh. “I mean… Whatever you’re comfortable with? I’m cool with whatever you want.”

He’s cool. Okay. Yeah.

She shifts her weight again, biting back a smirk when he inhales sharply as she brushes against the hardness in his gray sweats. “Sorry.” Feeling merciful, Michelle climbs off of his lap, sitting back against the couch, curling her legs underneath her. “Any ideas?”

Though, Peter can’t seem to tell if he’s happy with this new development or not—as hard as it was having her sitting on him. “Um—” And his expression tells her that he does have one. “I could…” He coughs again. “I could go down on you?”

It’s funny, how casually he says it, like he’s offering to give her a ride to the airport, or something. But it still makes her ears ring.

“Yeah,” she says, nodding slowly. She swallows. “That sounds—that sounds good.”

“We should probably—” He gestures to his bedroom door, huffing out a laugh. “—not do this out here.”

“Probably,” she snorts.

The speed at which he scrambles to stand and runs to his bedroom, compared to her somewhat-leisurely pace, makes her let out the most undignified laugh.

A silence falls between them as he shuts the door, the click echoing. MJ takes a moment to glance around his room—literally a single moment, because in the next he’s wrapping his arm around her waist, yanking her to him and crashing his lips to hers. His hands are greedy, twisting handfuls of the soft fabric of her robe, finding purchase on her ass and grinding her against his hardness.

MJ revels in the groan he lets out as she melts into him, her hands winding themselves in his soft curls, twisting and tugging ever so slightly.

He guides her to the bed, pausing to gently lay her back on the mattress before crawling over her, his mouth finding itself on the underside of her jaw, his lips and tongue dragging along the column of her throat. With one hand, he prises her legs apart, happily settling between them while his other fumbles with the tie of her robe.

His eyes meet hers first, silently asking for permission, before pulling the thick string back. His eyes darken as Michelle helps him slip the robe back, leaving her almost completely bare underneath him. He unconsciously wets his lips as his eyes hungrily rake over the expanse of her body—he feels as if the only accurate description for how he feels at this moment being a deer caught in really well-defined headlights.

She thinks for a moment that he’s just going to do this—stare at her—instead of, well, what he said he’d do.

But he doesn’t seem to have that kind of patience. He lurches forward, his mouth hot on her neck, trailing open-mouthed, wet kisses down to her collarbone, her sternum, the swell of her right breast.

She bites back a gasp as he takes her nipple into his mouth, her back arching off the bed as his tongue swirls around it, palming the other with his hand. It’s a sight to see for sure, Peter’s head on her chest, his curls tickling her skin.

His trail continues, back to the dip in her chest, lower and lower, his kisses hot on her stomach, down to her hips, the lace trim of her thong.

Peter sits back on his heels, breathless as he looks down at her. “Fuck—” He curses, drawn to the damp patch in the middle of the soft faux-satin, how it clings to her.

He doesn’t give it another second, hooking his thumbs around the lace and roughly pulling them off of her legs.

He’s diving his head down in the next instant, his lips leaving scorching kisses on the inside of her thighs. He thinks that he can maybe tease her, trying to slow his pace as he gets closer and closer to where she wants him to be.

(Okay, it’s where he wants to be, too.)

He pulls back a little, trying not to smile too much at the disappointed edge in her shuddering sigh. As much as his mouth waters with her so close to him, he controls himself. Kind of. To a degree. He takes a finger, experimentally teasing her entrance, his sweats—somehow—tightening at Michelle’s quiet gasp as he touches her. There, he collects her wetness, coating his finger in her arousal, swirling it over her cunt, around her clit. And he sits there, marveling at how impossibly wet she is already.

Though, it’s not long, probably less than a minute, before his impatience kicks in again.

He thinks he might actually die if he doesn’t eat her out.

Dramatic? Maybe.

Valid?

Who’s to say?

But he can’t help himself, and any thought about slowing down is thrown out the window as he licks a long stripe up her center, his eyes rolling back as he tastes her. He dives right back in, his tongue circling her entrance, lapping her up.

And Michelle can’t help but notice how at home he looks between her legs, how in his element he is as he moves to start sucking on her clit, flicking it back and forth with his tongue as he teases her with two fingers.

His eyes meet hers and she wonders how on earth she’s going to survive this, especially when those two fingers push into her, curling as he pumps them in and out.

“Shit—Peter!” She cries, her back fully lifting off the mattress as he picks up his pace, moaning against her.

Clearly he’s enjoying this, too.

A choked gasp slips from her lips when he slows suddenly, his eyes locking with hers again before picking back up even harder and faster than before. She reaches down, tangling her hand in his messy curls, holding him in just that right spot. Her thighs try to close on him, trapping him in as the coil in her tightens, but his free hand grips her, holding her in place. And she can’t fight the way her hips buck against him as she begins to grind herself against his face.

It builds and builds, teetering just on that beautiful edge, when Peter adds a third finger—and then, she’s seeing stars, her brain going fuzzy as all of her muscles tense, electricity shooting from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. She comes with a strangled moan, panting as her body’s overcome with pleasure.

Peter’s movements slow, and he pulls off of her sensitive clit, wiping his mouth with the back of his arm, before taking each finger into his mouth, sucking them clean.

MJ sits up on her elbows, her chest heaving with each breath as she watches him—and at that moment, her eyes drawn to the hard line in his sweats, she curses No Nut November again, because honestly, she’s never wanted him to fuck her more, never been so angry at a single month.

He seems to be in the same fire, his expression wrought with the inner turmoil he feels. His eyes screw shut, and he pinches the bridge of his nose, trying desperately to ignore how painfully hard he is, how he can feel his dick pulsing already, and how stupidly hot and beautiful MJ is.

His decision’s made before he opens his eyes.

Michelle lets out a surprised yelp as he leaps on top of her, his mouth on hers before she can start laughing. Somehow, his hands are greedier as they explore her body, squeezing and kneading her breasts, her waist, her hips, down to her ass.

None of that’s to say that she’s complaining, though. Peter just ate her out like it was his full-time job, like he was stopping crime as Spider-Man. As far as she’s concerned, he can do whatever he wants right now.

It’s when he starts to take his sweats—and boxers—off that she gets confused, if not a little too hopeful.

“What about the bet?” She asks breathlessly when he pulls back.

He holds her gaze, his lips curving into a sly grin. “Fuck the bet.”

If there’s a god, Michelle wants to thank her right now.

Peter’s hands grip her thighs, his fingers digging into her skin as he wraps them around his waist. He takes his dick in his hand, pumping a few times, swiping it down her center, tapping her clit, before Michelle suddenly remembers to use their one collective brain cell.

“Wait—” she gasps. “Condom.”

Peter curses under his breath, hanging his head for a moment, biting his lip. “Yeah. Yeah. You’re right.”

If she thought he was fast running to the bedroom, watching him scramble through his bedside drawers looking for a rubber is something else. A giggle—a fucking giggle—bubbles up out of her at his relief when he finds one.

He rolls it on quickly, expertly, days of No Nut November clearly not slowing him down.

He’s back on her in the next second, eager as he gathers her arousal and coating himself with it.

They both let out a string of curses as he pushes into her—finally. Peter screws his eyes shut, taking a shuddering breath as he feels how warm and snug she is around him, almost unable to believe how well she fits him. MJ grips his shoulder, face burning as he gives her a moment to adjust, a moment to take all of him in.

When he starts to move, they both wonder again why they hadn’t been doing this in the first place.

As with everything else, Peter doesn’t waste their time. Even though he revels in how fucking amazing she feels around him, how he can’t even remember the last time this felt so good, so right, he picks up a steady pace, fucking into her like it’s the last chance he’ll get. He hikes her leg higher on his waist, the new, deeper angle causing Michelle to arch her back, a wet moan ripping through her.

“Peter—” She chants his name over and over, unable to say anything else as his hips snap into hers. “Fuck—”

“God, MJ, you’re so fucking good,” his voice is almost a growl, lower and more desperate than he’s ever sounded. “Taking me so well.”

Michelle should’ve guessed he was one for dirty talk, though she can’t say she’s surprised.

Or that she minds.

Peter bites back a groan, stilling momentarily as she clenches around him, burying his face in the crook of her neck. He’s already so close, teetering just on the edge, but he’s filled with a sense of determination at the sting of her nails digging into his shoulders.

His hand trails down her stomach, his thumb pressing her clit, scrubbing furiously as he pumps in and out of her. She squeezes him again, head thrown back, slack-jawed as he tilts her hips even further, the new angle causing a string of curses to spill from her lips. Her muscles spasm around him as she comes for a second time, her eyes screwed shut as she clings to him for dear life. His own orgasm crashes over him, and he moans loudly into her skin, holding her to him , fingers digging into her hips as he comes undone.

It’s something MJ can’t help but want to see again. And again.

He flops down on top of her, his head on her chest as he struggles to catch his breath.

Her hand comes to smooth down his curls at the nape of his neck, and she smiles as he shifts his head to look up at her.

“God, fuck No Nut November,” He breathes into her skin.

A light laugh bubbles up out of her.

He lets out a heavy sigh. “What day is it?” He asks.

“November fifth.”

He groans, squeezing his eyes shut. “Damn.” He pulls out of her, standing up to throw the condom away, almost missing the bin in the corner of the room.

“You made it longer than I thought you would,” Michelle laughs.

Peter flops down next to her, his eyes narrowed, though there’s still a smile on his face. “What?”

“Well, yeah. I bet Ned that you wouldn’t last a week,” she replies, patting him on the chest as she gets up, disappearing into the bathroom.

Peter’s eyes widen before he covers them with his hands. “Oh. Shit. Ned.”

He’s still there when she comes back; still naked, too.

“Ned, doesn’t have to know,” MJ says, falling back into the bed with him.

Peter peeks out from underneath his arm. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. We can like, pretend you’re still doing it.”

There’s a crooked grin on Peter’s face as he stares at her—a look that makes her insides gooey and heart fuzzy.

And she hates how much she doesn’t hate it.

“And when Betty inevitably breaks Ned,” she shrugs. “We can split the money.”

He shakes his head, amazed and somewhat scandalized. “MJ, you’re a genius.”

Again, she shrugs.

“So, we can keep doing—” He gestures between them, brows raised. “—And let Ned lose. The money’s ours.”

“Right.”

He lamely sticks his hand out, offering for her to shake on it.

“Deal?” He asks.

She kisses him. “Deal.”

#spideychelle #petermj #petermjane #peter parker x michelle jones #peter parker #michelle jones #thotumn #day 11 #no nut november #rated: e

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a-libra-writes · 4 years ago

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who do you think would prefer an s/o who’s charming, more of a people person, using their words to get what they want vs an s/o who’s more quiet, strategic, and plans and schemes to get what they want? is it a case of opposites attract, or would they want someone to compliment them? 👀

.......so i ended up having a lot of thoughts about this LOL

okay so i think this depends on the s/o’s morals! like you can be scheming to help others instead of hurting them. so let’s go with that bc i dont wanna brainstorm a low ethics/morality s/o (this makes me think of 7KPP, a fantastic visual novel that’s the only decent Court Drama Simulator vn i’ve come across). Also there’s a loooot of characters so imma just list the ones I have Strong Thoughts on and sort them by region oh lord what have you done my dork is showing

Northbois

So while I feel like Robb and Ned would prefer a more outgoing and charming sort of person ... I really can’t help but ship them with someone whose more cunning and can actually play the game of thrones. Like lord someone help these Starks because their intrigue score is 0 and they need someone protecting them from Tywin, Roose and Walder LOL. I can really see both father and son thinking their s/o is this sweet thing and not having a clue of how much scheming they’re actually doing to protect Winterfell... Ned would probs catch on after a while but Robb would just be blinded by love and devotion haha.

Sansa would probs want the first ideally, but as she gets older she’d greatly appreciate someone who has that sort of cunning and uses it for good purposes. Also she’d like a calm and steady personality to rely on.

Jory is a straight up honest guy to a fault, kinda like Ned, so he’d also prefer the first type of person and appreciate them more.

OKAY SO you’d think Roose would go for the second type but HEAR ME OUT. I think he’d go for both equally, or a mix of the two. Listen. I have a strong HC that he would be very attracted to someone who is his opposite in many ways - outgoing, charming, sweet and kind. If that person also happens to be cunning as hell and willing to manipulate anyone - even him - to protect what’s their’s, oof. He’s gone. I think he’d really get off on the idea of having an s/o who everyone is shocked he’s involved with bc “omg they’re sooo nice” and only he really knows their “other side”, so to speak. Realtalk I don’t think he’d go for someone just as morally awful as him bc he’d see them more as a threat than a potential partner.

Ramsay is a little shit that would also be attracted to the first kind of person but honestly needs the second type to keep his ass in line. That’s the sort of person who would figure him out and manipulate him accordingly so he isn’t skinning the goddamn neighbors. Also he wouldn’t give a damn about their morals so go off i guess just dont start any revolts in the north

VERY Northbois

Jon really doesn’t care for schemes, even if he acknowledges they’re useful, and he’d be attracted to someone who knows just what to say and is charismatic bc lord knows he’s struggled w that for a bit. Benjen really loves outgoing, charming and talkative peeps esp when they wiggle their way out of stuff or convince the upper command of the Watch to consider a different plan. He’ll be soooo attracted to that. Edd is kinda meh on both I’d feel? Like he’d prefer a quieter person but not a scheming sort, that’s too troublesome to deal with. I think he could come around to the first one eventually.

Mance super respects the second type, he finds it very attractive actually, especially when they start manipulating him into something and he catches them. Tormund is a dork and prefers outgoing people, totally doesn’t notice when he’s being taken in lol. He rlly hates the second sort of person, sees them as snakes.

Southbois

Edmure would absolutely be drawn to a gregarious and outgoing person! And if they can talk their way into or out of things thank god bc fishboy has a habit of putting his foot in his mouth. I really don’t think it’d work out with a schemer person bc of that Tully honor, and unlike Ned or Robb, Edmure would start to catch on (I don’t buy into the show characterization of Edmure like frack that he’s not an idiot). Brynden has a lot of experience and has seen a lot of BS, so he’d understand the risks and sacrifices his s/o would be making when they’re playing the game, and he’d really wish they wouldn’t!! Like yeah it’s to protect their family and friends but he wishes they didn’t have to do that. He wants to protect them on his own.

Brienne REALLY prefers someone whose honest and can talk their way in and out of things!! Like the Starks she’s very honorable and has no patience for lies and manipulating even if it’s for something good. It’d take a lot for her to trust and be attracted to that kind of person, they’d have to like... be very honest with her about what their plans are and why they’re doing them.

Kingslanding bois

oh lord Stannis okay so INITIALLY he’d be put off by both personalities for diff reasons - outgoing because socializing and diplomacy is something he just sucks at and the second one because holy hell he hates dishonesty and scheming. Now, he can admire a strategic and collected mind, but as soon as dishonorable plots roll in he starts side-eyeing. I think it would take some time for that latter personality to gain his trust, and if this is like... his wife we’re talking about, she’d probs have to scheme behind his back, even if it’s for his own sake. For an outgoing person, he could eventually befriend or fall for them once some common ground is found. He wouldn’t be able to admit how much he admires their people skills haha.

Davos understands that sometimes manipulating and scheming is needed and can be used for good, but personally he prefers a more diplomatic, out in the open approach. So the first type is def his kinda person. He could still befriend the second type as long as they’re not assholes, though.

Tywin would honestly work with both sides of the spectrum and in between, but ultimately, you’d have to understand who you’re dealing with. There’s no honor or high ground being involved with Tywin Lannister, and the s/o should expect to get dragged into his schemes, esp when he trusts them ... and that’s no easy feat. Ultimately it’s less of how you get what you want and more of ... what are you willing to do to get it. Pesky morals and all that.

Tyrion has had enough of his dad’s bullshit that he’d only be romantically involved with the first type, someone who uses sass and flattery like he does. He can still respect and befriend a more cunning person, though. Jaime also prefers the first type, he thinks it’s just because “oh I like outgoing and forward people” and not...”i’ve spent years dealing with lies and schemes from father and cersei”, yanno that old chestnut. Bronn definitely prefers gregarious and cheeky peeps, schemes go over his head and bore him.

Sandor dislikes both sorts of personalities for different reasons ... He’s offput by someone who would be very talkative and outgoing with him (like why are they talking to him wtf), and he also hates scheming and lying and all that, he’s seen too much of it. The first type has a better chance of befriending and getting close to him, the second not so much.

Petyr very much respects and admires both but like ... you know he’d prefer someone that he thinks he can outwit and manipulate, so probably more of the first type of personality because they seem less cunning and more of “just” a people person. Given his obsessive/yandere tendencies he probably wouldn’t notice he was being taken in by someone friendly and kind.

like okay weird thing to think about but just consider this... I really wonder what it’d be like if Robert had an s/o like the first one you mentioned. Not Cersei, certainly not his beloved Lyanna - a third party, a gracious and likeable queen that kinda makes up for his faults and she’s TRYING hard as hell. like idk if they’d ever fall in love but like idk i feel like his depression would be slightly lessened to have a partner that’s very beloved and tries to help him and put him in a good light in his subject’s minds. Am I making sense? She’s not perfect but she wants what’s best for the realm and if she’s gotta do it herself she will. IDK sorry this is a tangent, i think about major change AUs and their political consequences a lot

Heckin south n east bois

Margaery is a Big Gay and you can’t fight me on this, you will lose. She’s super attracted to the first kind of gal bc that’s def how she is herself! So she’d love to play those little word games with them. The second personality type she’d just write off as “eh quiet person” but once she got closer and began to realize their cunning and wittiness she’d def take an interest, esp if she found out about some good things they did. Then it’d be a classic “outgoing babe dating more reserved babe” and yall both would be VERY well-known in court. absolute power couple

Oberyn likes both equally! Especially if your motives are to help others and/or save your friends and family. He loves that kinda loyalty and he really admires someone who has a way with words and schemes in equal measure. Hell he does both himself. He might lean more toward an outgoing person just because that’s how he is too.

idk where to put Beric but he rlly likes the first kind of people!! He’d probs ask you to get supplies or money on the Brotherhood’s behalf, and he actually kinda likes it when he finds himself doing something you wanted cause you asked so nicely or talked him into it ..... Thoros calls him a simp and it’s true ok don’t bully he can’t help it

& lastly Essosssss

So, I think Daenerys would be a lot more drawn to the second kinda person. First of all: Very mysterious, ooh. Secondly, she’d appreciate a cool head that will tell her the truth and is willing to do more unsavory things bc they believe in her so much. Obvs she would need someone with unquestionable loyalty, and once she tests and is reassured of that loyalty, then she could start some kinda romance. She’s def attracted to someone who can get shit done that way.

Jorah is a big opposite in that he’s kinda had to do that unsavory stuff himself and is still ashamed by it, and generally doesn’t trust people like Littlefinger and Varys and Illyrio, etc so he’d prefer someone who is just genuine and talks their way out of things. Also yall know him he can’t resist once he starts liking someone like cmon

Grey Worm is absolutely in the first camp too but for diff reasons! Scheming and all that shit just makes him nervous and he distrusts it, even if it’s for Daenerys’ sake. He just wouldn’t associate with the person ... Someone more outgoing would definitely fluster him more but at least he could feel like he could trust them. Missandei can go either way - she knows the power in both diplomacy and manipulation, and would likely admire and be pulled to someone who uses both to help people.

sorry i got so wordy and a bit repetitive lol both are like, my fav kinda character archtypes, esp for court settings.

#libra says #libra says A LOT OF SHIT LOL oops #yall can send in stuff like this anytime idgaf its interesting #libra headcanons #got x reader #got imagines #game of thrones x reader

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bywordofaphrodite · 3 years ago

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Book Reviews 3&4: Nancy Drew and the Lilac Inn by Carolyn Keene & Trixie Belden and the Secret of the Mansion by Julie Campbell Tatham

This review’s theme is girl detective books ! Audience age range: roughly 12 and up !

Just as Enid Blyton’s books made me fall in love with magical creatures and faraway lands, detective novels became an obsession during late primary school, with classic lead female characters Nancy Drew and Trixie Belden being my absolute favourites. My school had an extremely small and limited library, and the Nancy Drew books were one of the only decent series there- even with a great chunk of the collection missing. My mother introduced me to Trixie Belden, which she insisted was better than Nancy Drew, though I refused to listen to such a declaration at the time.

Now, though? My opinions have definitely changed.

Nostalgic review

Rating: ★★★★★

From memory, Nancy Drew is a clever, beautiful and well-off girl in her late teens, living with her lawyer father Carson Drew and her housekeeper Hannah Gruen, who has looked after Nancy since her mother’s passing when she was only three. I always enjoyed the dynamic between Nancy and her father, as it was similar to mine with my father, also a lawyer- Carson doesn’t step in unless Nancy needs his help, but he does assist in legal advice when necessary. I also loved Nancy’s friendship with the cousins Bess and George, and liked that her relationship with her ‘special friend’ Ned never got in the way of solving mysteries or hanging out with her friends (‘hanging out’ was practically code for sleuthing in these novels anyway). Overall, my memories of this series amount mostly to exciting searches for missing heiresses, finding beautiful jewels and battling crocodiles in Florida.

On the opposite side of the spectrum is Trixie Belden- rough-around-the-edges thirteen year-old from a poor family living with both her parents and three brothers. Where Nancy has a housekeeper, lives in an affluent suburban neighbourhood and never wants for money, Trixie lives on the outskirts of a small town, both her parents work, and she is constantly reminded of how important it is to work for money as they do not have much of it to spare on mindless things. Nancy is a fairly solitary character, often working alone unless her friends show up, and even then she does most of the legwork; Trixie is also the main sleuth in her series, but her best friend Honey is almost always at her side. While the mysteries were great, the warm friendships in Trixie Belden novels are what I remember best.

Regardless of whatever my thoughts may be after rereading books from these two series, I’ve never ceased referencing either of them and my love of the mystery genre still holds fast even now.

Nancy Drew and the Lilac Inn Review

Post-read: ★★

Synopsis: girl detective Nancy Drew is called to solve a series of odd goings on at her newly engaged friend Emily’s inn, in what seems to be an attempt to prevent Emily and her fiancé from opening. Disaster strikes when her aunt retrieves Emily’s inheritance of diamonds- Emily’s last hope to cover the costs of fixing up the inn- and they are swiftly stolen within the hour. Nancy vows to catch the thief and the intruder and save Emily’s inn from failure.

I struggled in choosing which Nancy Drew book to reread for this review, and after reading through multiple rankings lists I decided on the Lilac Inn because it ranked highly on every list. I now wish I had just gone with Crocodile Island anyway… at least there was something snappy about it. In between the bomb, the theft, the doppelganger, the underwater fake-shark, the kidnapping, the spear-gun attack- I think I’ve made my point. There’s far too much going on, and if it was well-written I would be okay with it, really I would, but it’s all so blandly articulated that half the time I had to reread just to make sure I’d read correctly what nonsense was occurring at any given time.

Straight out the gate, I just want to say how shocking the writing was- that’s shockingly bad, by the way. If I thought Enid Blyton’s work was stunted, well, this was far, far worse. Especially since it lacks the excuse of being written for young children. It was incredibly difficult to push through in the slower parts, and I must admit I basically skim-read the lead up parts to the action sequences (which were incredibly minimal compared to the gnashing crocodile teeth I longed for, but alas). Sadly for me, Bess (my old fave), George and Ned were not present at all, and I cannot remember if they had actually been introduced that early in the series because they are not mentioned once.

I did really like the concept of the story, and the element of Nancy having a creepy doppelganger posing as Nancy to cause mischief (she has several over the series) was fun, even more so that said doppelganger was an actual actress and quite ruthless in her attempts to steal Emily’s diamonds- I love a morally-corrupt pretty female villain as much as the next person, after all. There is a romance teased between Nancy and a young man staying at the inn, a young man who continuously seems to be in the same room as the diamond thief messing with Emily’s inn, but ultimately both never amount to anything. This hardly surprised me given the book is written in the thirties, and Ned and Nancy never do anything but attend dances together the entire series, but still, come on. He could’ve at least stolen the diamonds to add some spice to his useless appearances.

It’s possible that were a very talented scriptwriter to take this book and make it into a movie it could work out a lot better than it does on paper- provided the casting was done well. The sets would be interesting, and I think the creepiness of the ‘ghost’ in the orchard and the diving scenes would translate a lot better on camera. Normally I’m not one to nominate live actions of novels for no reason, but this thought kept recurring as I struggled to get through the writing.

Characters who aged well: Nancy is smart and weirdly good at everything (they don’t explain why she knows how to do all the things she does, but diving and freeing herself from bonds seems to be easy enough for her. Given male characters are always allowed to be perfect without training, I’ll allow it). For a female character written in the 30s she has plenty of agency and does not once rely on a man’s help to do anything, which is why I always enjoyed her books. Carson Drew also aged well- not present that often, but useful without being interfering, and his trust in his daughter is refreshing. As for the other main characters in the series… they didn’t even show up in this book so I can’t really comment on this.

Characters who aged badly: plot twist- I’m adding Nancy here too. She is a little too perfect, too polished, a common criticism by modern readers, though at the time of publication was her main selling point. Additionally, earlier editions of the series featured racist comments made by Nancy, although those have since been taken out. However, the publisher and creator of the first books was not a very pleasant person, so I find myself able to separate that from Nancy’s character.

Favourite scene/quote: ‘The article went on to tell that Nancy had just completed a course in advanced skin diving in the Muskoka River, and that she had finished first in total points in the twenty student group’.

I find this quote amusing because there is really no need for Nancy to be good at every single thing, and this is a good example of the many times throughout the series that Nancy is the ‘best’ at a very random activity that is often never mentioned again.

As for my favourite scene, though nothing interesting actually ends up happening in the orchard, I did like the eerie setting of Nancy dressing up as a ghost and chilling behind a tree for a while (okay it was partially eerie, mostly just oddly comedic). The actress/impostor posing as Nancy provided a few good scenes, too, but for the main villain of the story she was hardly in as many scenes as she should’ve been in.

After doing some research, I discovered something most interesting: Nancy was written with significantly more character by the original ghost-writer of the series, a woman named Mildred Wirt Benson, who wrote Nancy ‘embodying qualities that she wished she had’- but the publisher Edward Stratemeyer did not want a bold female character, and she was rewritten with similar dialogue but now accompanied with ‘dainty’ verbs to sweeten her words. Stratemeyer was also known for his beliefs that women belonged in the kitchen, and the only reason he created Nancy in the first place was to capitalise on young female readers who wanted their own equivalent of the Hardy Boys.

With all of this in mind, it’s very possible that the Nancy from my memories is a mix of the older and new editions, which allowed Nancy more personality as the series went on, no longer needing to confirm to the sexist expectations of the 1930s. And despite these origins, Nancy Drew aged quite well as an unintended feminist icon: she solves her mysteries alone and rarely needs Ned’s help at all; in fact, most of the time, Nancy is the one doing the saving. It’s nice to think that, almost one hundred years later, Mildred Wirt Benson’s version of Nancy is the one being kept alive, both on paper and onscreen.

Trixie Belden and the Secret of the Mansion Review

Post-read: ★★★★★

Synopsis: energetic teen Trixie Belden’s boring town of Sleepyside is turned upside down when a rich new family moves onto the property opposite her own, an old miser winds up in hospital and his empty mansion is suddenly inhabited by a runaway boy, and a missing fortune is waiting to be uncovered.

Whewww.

This was a massive breath of fresh air after the Lilac Inn! After being so unimpressed by both Blyton and Keene’s writing, Tatham’s writing restored my faith in my childhood judgement. Her words flowed well and the conversation between the characters was very natural. The blank slate characters in the Lilac Inn were showed up by the animated and multiple-dimensional characters in the Secret of the Mansion, and I never once felt the need to rush myself through the chapters.

Unlike my method of choosing a Nancy Drew book, I simply decided on reading the first Trixie book for this review. While I almost went for a later book where all the main characters had been introduced, I couldn’t remember how Trixie first met Honey and Jim, which I felt was pretty important to her character. I’m very glad I did. Even in the first book, Trixie endures so much character development (contrasting very strongly with Nancy’s flawless existence). Longing for a friend, Trixie takes herself up the hill to the newly habited mansion to introduce herself and her little brother Bobby, who she is babysitting to earn money to buy herself a horse. There she meets rich girl Honey Wheeler, a sickly and sheltered but sweet girl of the same age, whose parents pay little attention to her. Things fall into place with all the expected luck of a teen heroine- Honey’s governess is a lovely woman who wants Honey to befriend Trixie and offers to look after Bobby, and of course Honey’s stables are now filled with horses and a stable hand who can teach her to ride.

But for every easy thing comes an opportunity for Trixie to grow: she comes to admire Honey’s bravery after previously being irritated by her fear of trying outdoor activities; she ignores the stable hand’s orders not to ride the stallion and falls as a result, leading to her having to work to regain his trust and also being taught the valuable lesson to recognise her own limits; finally, as much as Trixie hates looking after little Bobby, when he is bitten by a snake Trixie is resourceful and quick on her feet in helping him, keeping him well enough until a doctor and other adults arrive.

Rather like the Lilac Inn, the mystery of the story centres on the hidden will to a supposed fortune of the elderly man who lived in the old mansion not far from Honey’s new home. On a whim, Trixie nags Honey into accompanying her to snoop around the building, leading to their discovery of the old man’s nephew Jim hiding there. By the end of the book, the girls have helped Jim to find the will and safely escape his abusive step-father. Later in the series, Jim is adopted by the Wheeler family, and also becomes Trixie’s primary love interest (I love that this relationship is not at all rushed either).

The reading level for the Trixie Belden series is listed as grade 3 and above, but I had no problems being completely involved and intrigued by the storyline and characters as a twenty-three year old. I think I’ll continue to read the series on my own time, as I always enjoyed the full character line-up developed after a few books in.

Characters who aged well: Trixie! If my praise during this review didn’t make clear enough, she’s a wonderful character with great development. Honey and Jim are also solid characters, and Bobby and Trixie’s parents are well-written too- supportive and kind, but realistic concerning raising Trixie to be a responsible kid. Also going to add that Trixie’s group of best friends- self-named the Bob-Whites of the Glen and consisting of her two older brothers Brian and Mart, Honey, Jim and the later additions of Dan and Di- have a strong presence and very distinct personalities when they show up in the later novels.

Characters who aged badly: nobody! All the side characters were well done, including the villain. He wasn’t over-the-top by any means, his abuse of Jim was both emotion and physical in a realistic manner that concerned the adults around him enough to comment on it without actually taking proper action to help him, as it often goes. I appreciated the author’s ability to write a male character the vulnerable one, to recognise what was wrong about the situation, and to gladly accept help from two girls younger than him.

Favourite scene/quote: “‘serves him right,’ Trixie said, wiping her grimy hands on her rolled-up blue jeans. ‘The mean old miser. You should have left him lying in the driveway, Dad.’”

An earlier quote in the book, this sets the tone for Trixie’s character: she’s messy, no-nonsense and cheeky. For a female character written in 1948 I found this quite amusing. There’s none of the internalised misogyny that often popped up in ‘tomboy’ characters of the time: Trixie just is what she is, and she’s great.

A standout scene would be Trixie sucking the venom from her brother’s snakebite to save him, and the chapters focused on the developing friendship with Honey and Jim while the two teach Trixie how to handle horses is also enjoyable.

Overall verdict:

My mother was right, Trixie Belden is far better than Nancy Drew in every category I can think of. I wish that the series had gained the popularity that Nancy Drew did, because it would make for a fun movie or television show. There is an eighteen year gap between the publication of the first novel from both series, and both heroines saw many more books written after that. Nancy Drew is so persistent, however, that multiple movies and even a recent CW show have been made, though it is not very accurate to the books at all. Even now, modern-day setting Nancy Drew mysteries are still being released under the Carolyn Keene pseudonym, showing her unending mythical status.

I still love Nancy, bad writing and all, but in all fairness, Miss Trixie deserves a cut of the nostalgic hype surrounding the girl-detective genre. I’d also like to bask in the poetic justice of Nancy not only remaining a more iconic character than the Hardy Boys, but also becoming more feminist as time goes on. I’m sure the publisher is rolling in his grave!

#nancy drew #carolyn keene #trixie belden #girl detective #fiction #university project #nostalgia #feminism #female characters

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msstarkerwhore · 5 years ago

Note

Cheating/affair request Tony is unhappily married to pepper, one day pepper's little (slutty) little brother came to stay for a while. Tony cheats on pepper with peter.

Oof! How dare you give me such a good prompt nonnie 😂 - I pictured tony as 40-45 and Peter as around 18, but its never specified :) Also I decided on a no powers universe - there’s still Stark Industries and Stark tower, but no IronMan or Spiderman

Word Count: 1600 - do I want to write more? YES! Did I have to restrain myself, and even then go a little overboard anyway? YES

Hope you enjoy :)

Tony knew Pepper had a younger half brother, one that she only knew because of obligatory shared Christmases and family events, ones that she hadn’t been to in a few years. However, when she said that her father reached out and asked to let Peter stay with them for a few months while he went through *another* divorce, Pepper said yes. She had gone through that once before with the same father and felt bad for the kid. She didn’t say much to Tony about it, which caused another problem with their relationship, but he got over it when the boy walked into the penthouse. Tony has to do a double-take from where he’s sitting on the couch, because this kid looks like someone he would have hired for the night back when he was a playboy. Back before Pepper. The boy meets his eyes, and Tony rushes to stand and greet him.

“You must be Peter,” he says smoothly, despite losing his breath just from looking at the boy. He holds his hand out for the boy to shake.

“Yes, Sir. It's a pleasure to be here. Thanks for letting me stay for a while!” He says, and he’s so sweet, but when he’s dressed in tiny little shorts and a crop top, it gives Tony thoughts he should not have.

“No worries, the more the merrier right?” Peter gives him a shy smile at that. “Pepper is finishing up some work in the office,” the like usual is unsaid, but still leaves a bad taste in Tony’s mouth. “It's getting late, did you want something in particular for dinner?”

“I don't mind, sir!”

“Call me Tony, please,” he rolls his eyes slightly, and reaches to grab one of Peter’s duffle bags, “Follow me, you can get settled into your room before dinner, clean up if you want to.” Tony wants to watch the boy clean up. Which, where did that thought come from? This boy shares DNA with his wife.

“Thanks, Tony,” and the boy follows him into the spare room, which before Peter arrived, was the room Tony was staying in to avoid Pepper. Tony wants to stay in this room even more now that there’s a pretty boy in it.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it. If you have any questions, I’ll be in the lounge.”

Peter blushes again, and Tony leaves, breathing heavily outside of his closed door. Too inappropriate. No matter how unhappy Tony is, he is not going to cheat on Pepper with her little brother. Half-brother, his mind supplies happily. No, he won’t do it.

When Peter comes out from having a shower, Tony can't believe his eyes. He’s wearing an oversized shirt and the tiniest little shorts he can see when Peter leans up to stretch.

“Feel better? Pepper called and said she’s going to be a bit late, so it's just us for dinner tonight, sorry,” he says, but he isn’t really. Any time he gets to spend with this angel instead of his wife is way better.

“Oh, that’s okay!” They decide on Chinese, and after watching a movie (star wars - apparently the kid is a huge nerd which turns Tony on so much Tony finds really interesting), they sit on the couch and keep getting to know each other. He finds out that the boy wants to study at NYU so he’s thinking of visiting the campus, which Tony thinks is a great idea, and is already thinking of giving the boy a credit card so he can easily go anywhere in the city (and buy anything he wants with Tony’s money - he’s never wanted to be a sugar daddy, but he can see the appeal right now). They’re interrupted by the elevator opening, and Pepper walking out, typing quickly on her phone. Tony stands up and greets her, pretending to act happy. They decided that while the boy stays with them, it would be best to act civil and still together, just like they do for public appearances - he doesn’t need to stay with another couple in the midst of a divorce. He goes in for a kiss, and Pepper turns her head quickly to the side. Tony’s had enough awkward interactions to recover quickly and press a kiss to her cheek instead, unbeknownst to him that Peter is very smart indeed, and noticed the coldness straight away.

“How was work?” Tony asks. He tries to remember what he and Pepper talked about when they were still happy, and finds he can’t.

“Stressful, like normal,” he can almost hear the eye roll, and she pockets the phone, “Peter, how are you? I haven’t seen you in years. Look at you all grown up!” Peter rushes over to her and hugs her tightly, which Tony thinks is sweet. It reminds him of the dreams, of a child, of him and Pepper as parents. Maybe in another life, they would’ve had this. Except without all of Tony’s inappropriate feelings. He decides to go for a shower while Pepper catches up with Peter.

If he fists his cock and moans loudly while the water cascades around him and drowns out any noise, well no one has to know.

—

Tony really should have known that the teenage boy would stay up late. He can’t sleep, like normal - He can’t stand sharing a room with Pepper and acting like everything is fine, and was on his way to the lab. He has to walk past Peter’s room to get to the lounge and into the elevator, and hears talking coming from his room. Although New York is only a few hours behind, it makes sense for Peter to be calling someone who still lived in Los Angeles, and okay yeah, maybe he’s bad for eavesdropping but he can’t help it.

“No, I’m telling you Ned, they are not a couple!” He hears the pause, and assumes the person on the other end is replying - he can’t hear them through the door. “No! They definitely don’t like each other, feel kinda bad that they have to pretend that they like each other for me.” _ “Yes, I know.” _ “I know its good, maybe I can convince Tony to sleep with me.”

Peter starts to chuckle, but Tony isn’t laughing. In fact, he’s barely breathing. Oh god.

“I’ve been acting pretty sweet - need Pepper to trust me enough to leave me alone with Tony.” There's giggling again, like little schoolboys and fuck, he’s reminded of how young Peter is. “I don’t know if they’re newly broken up or not, but like, surely I can entice him to sleep with me with my ass right?” _ “You’re my best friend man, you’re meant to encourage me to go for my dreams!” _ “Excuse me, my dreams definitely include Tony’s cock,” more giggles but Tony thinks he’s going to pass out, “How big do you think he is? I know we’ve had this conversation before but it's different when you see him in real life. He was in sweatpants tonight, and I was trying to get a look, but I couldn’t really make it out,” he seems sad, and Tony wants to burst in there and shove his cock in the boy’s, shit he thought he was so innocent, he’s probably not even a virgin, face. But he steadies himself and continues on his way. He will definitely not be getting any sleep tonight.

—

Tony is woken up by something wet and hot engulfing his hard dick. Shit, feels so good. Except, him and Pepper haven’t done anything like this in a long time. Maybe she’s getting possessive, jealous because Peter’s here now and he’s so much prettier then… His dick pulses when he thinks of Peter, but his eyes shoot open anyway. Because he only went to bed when Pepper left for work, and there's only one way his dick is feeling this good. He flicks the covers up to see Peter, shit his eyes roll back, sucking his dick like a well-trained slut. “Fuck Pete” he groans.

Peter pulls off his cock and grabs it with both hands. “Mr Stark,” he croaks out, “Never knew you would be this big. Dreamed about it, but never thought…” he’s distracted by going down on him again, trying to suck him to the bottom.

“Shit!” Tony bucks up into his mouth, he can’t help it, and keeps fucking the kid's throat until he groans out “I’m gonna cum kid, fuck Pete Pete-“ and the kid sucks harder and Tony’s spilling down his throat. His eyes roll back into his head and his elbows give out so he collapses onto the bed and he hasn’t cum that hard in years, shit, and he just did it in Peppers little brother’s mouth. His brain tries to tell him ‘half-brother’ again, but his cock only twitches valiantly in Peter’s mouth, who smirks and pulls off with a pop.

He’s leaning his head of Tony’s thigh now, looking up at him with admiration. Tony meets his eyes, groans, and then reaches for under his armpits. “Come up here kid.” and manhandles him until Peter’s dick is in his throat and he’s sitting on Tony’s face and all he can smell is Peter. It doesn't take long for Peter to come, so easily like a fucking teenager, because he is one, and seems embarrassed when Tony pulls him off and lays him down next to him, but Tony just groans and licks into his mouth.

“Why’d you act so innocent yesterday when you’re really just a little slut? Huh? Seducing me in the bed I share with my wife, with your sister.”

The boy moans, eyes still half-closed, “I don’t know Mr Stark, had to see if you would want me.”

“God kid, I could barely resist last night.”

“Wish you didn’t. Cleaned up in the shower like you told me too, I had three fingers in there hoping you would take me. Wanted your cock for dinner last night instead.”

Tony groans, his cock half-hard again, and a quick glance down shows Peter fully hard.

“I’ll make it up to you, baby.” and then he rolls over onto him, sealing their mouths in a messy, filthy kiss.

#starker #peter/tony #starkerprompts

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jeranasblog · 4 years ago

Text

See me how I really am

Summary: Peter has a problem. He has a big crush on his adoptive father Tony Stark who raised him since he was five years old. Good thing, that the Alpha isn’t interested in him, right?

Rating: E

Notes: This story is my Starkercest Bingo 2020 contribution. Kink for the first story: Line Prompt** "You wanted me to walk in on you." (Bingo board at the end of the post)

Warnings: Adoptive Father/Adoptive Son, don’t like it, don’t read it

Read it on Ao3

„Daddy, you home?“ Peter opened the door to the million-dollar apartment he shared with his Dad in the middle of New York. He threw his backpack in the corner and kicked off his shoes, tucking them away in the shoe cabinet.

He was early today, his college professor had caught the flu, and his best friends Ned and MJ had canceled their Wednesday night study session. To be fair, Peter would have called off their meeting, too, because he was close to his heat and the only thing he wanted right now was to lie down in his bed surrounded by his pillows and toys.

Normally Peter wouldn’t go to his lectures if he didn’t feel like it. He was clever enough to catch up later and all the professors fully understood that an Omega would stay at home close to his heat, but there wasn’t much time left until finals. And Peter was a little bit afraid of the upcoming exams because he didn’t want to disappoint his Daddy.

Being the son of Tony Stark definitely had its advantages, even if the tech genius wasn’t really his Dad. Peter had never met his biological father, and Tony had married his mother when he had been five years old, so he was the only authoritative figure in his life. Especially since his mother had died a few months later and Peter could be lucky that Tony had decided to adopt him then, otherwise he would have ended up in an orphanage.

Peter was grateful, more than he could ever express, and so he did his best to please his Dad. He felt an overwhelming urge to be good, to make his Daddy proud, so he worked hard on every day. He studied for hours to get the best grades, he cooked and cleaned, he even did his father’s laundry. Everything just to be the perfect little Omega for his Dad. Peter knew very well that Tony Stark was a busy, important man, and he did everything he could to make his Daddy’s life easier.

Oh, and how proud Tony was of him. He always took Peter to social events, parading him around like the perfect son Peter tried his best to be. Tony told him how jealous the other rich people were of him, how he had to drive back other Alphas that want to claim Peter, and he was so glad that his Daddy protected him. He didn’t want to be with other Alphas, he just wanted to be with his Dad.

His life could have been so good, he had friends who cared about him, they had more than enough money to pay for his dream college in New York so he wouldn’t have to move away. He didn’t even argue with his Dad either. He could have been so happy if only Peter’s feelings hadn’t got in his way. Peter felt a strong urge to obey his Daddy, to be perfect for him, to get down on his knees and present for him, and the thought alone was enough to make him scared as hell. He was his Dad, for god’s sake! Maybe not in blood, but by name anyway.

Peter was ashamed of himself. At night he was lay in bed, imagining his Daddy’s hands all over his body while he was touching himself. He pictured his Daddy’s knot when he was riding his favorite dildo during his heat, and he wished that it were his Daddy’s fingers that stuffed him full while he was preparing himself for the plastic toy. His thoughts were wrong, so wrong, but he couldn’t stop his mind from wandering.

One day he might unintentionally reveal his secret, and he was afraid that he would destroy the relationship to his Dad. It became harder and harder every day to keep his feelings locked inside him. He had been so close to screaming his Daddy’s name during his last heat and if Tony had walked past his room, he could have heard his small whimpers that begged for his Daddy’s knot. Despite his fear, Peter couldn’t hold back much longer, and he knew his secret would be discovered one day. He just wasn’t ready to lose Tony yet.

That was one of the reasons why he was more than relieved that Tony wasn’t at home today. His whole body was tingling, his hole slickening up and arching to be filled and the closer he got to his heat, the harder it became to hold back the feelings about his daddy.

On the way to his room, Peter passed the bedroom door of Tony. Even though the whole apartment was clouded by his Daddy’s Alpha smell, it was even stronger here, so close to the bed where Tony was always sleeping in. The smell of black coffee mixed with leather and a hint of motor oil was overwhelming on a good day and now, so close to his heat, Peter immediately felt slick gushing out of his hole.

Fuck, he knew he was weak when he opened the door, he knew it was a mistake, but he had held back more often than not and this time, he snapped. Just for a minute, he tried to convince himself. I’ll be out in no time.

Of course, Peter had been in his Dad’s bedroom before, they were living in the same apartment, but usually, he tried to avoid entering the room. Tony was a neat man, his room tidied and clean, and it was probably the only room in the house that Peter didn’t clean regularly. His Daddy had told him that even though he loved Peter doing the chores, a bedroom was a very vulnerable place for an Alpha and that he would clean it himself. To be honest, Peter had felt relief because he knew he couldn’t be trusted around the smell of his Daddy.

Peter had wanted to stay a minute, maybe two. He had just wanted to take a deep breath, surrounded by the intoxicating smell, and then leave, memorizing the hint of coffee, leather, and motor oil while he was pleasuring himself alone in his room. But a simple black tank top, which his Daddy had most likely forgotten to put in the laundry bag this morning, made his resolution falter.

It wouldn’t hurt anyone just to take a whiff, would it? Just once, then he could go back to his room and leave the filthy thoughts about his Daddy behind. Peter was so, so weak and he gave in, burying his nose in the soft fabric.

It was ecstatic. The smell was too strong, too good and he didn’t even notice the slick running down his thighs anymore. His mind was clouded, his biology took over his actions and he walked over to his Daddy’s bed, consequences be damned. Nothing mattered anymore except the smell of his Alpha and he craved to be closer to the scent.

Peter fell on the soft sheets, his eyes rolling back and a small moan slipped past his lips. He was floating, surrounded by his Daddy’s smell, and at that point, there was no turning back.

He stripped, kicking his clothes out of bed until the only barrier between him and the fabric was the pair of dark red panties that he put on in the morning, thinking about his Daddy. Slick was everywhere, pooling in the panties, running down his thighs and the sheets would be soaked by it in minutes. There was no way his Daddy wouldn’t notice the smell of aroused Omega, but Peter was too far gone to care. The desire had shut his mind down.

He moaned as he touched his neck for the first time, his fingertips pressed lightly against the heated skin. It was good, but at the same time not enough. He wanted his Daddy’s rough hands against his delicate throat, wanted the Alpha to sink his teeth down his neck until everyone knew who he belonged to. Peter tried to squeeze even harder, tried to imitate the Alpha grip, which he had only seen on TV before. He whimpered in distress, it wasn’t enough, it wasn’t his Daddy.

Peter gave up, his hand sliding lower, caressing his collar bones until they found his nipples. He flicked them gently first, sensitive so close to his heat and he enjoyed the feeling of too much. Tiny electric shocks tingled down his spine, making him even wetter, his cock completely hard by now.

Abruptly, he caught his nipples in a tight grip, squeezing until his back arched from the bed, a high-pitched moan echoing across the room. God, what he would give if only his Daddy was here with him. Watching him, touching him, stuffing his hole with his Alpha cock. “Daddy, please, Alpha.”

Peter had wanted to drag it out, to tease himself and savor the arousal, but the feeling of his Daddy’s sheets against his almost naked body was too much. His hands wandered lower as he spread his legs, giving himself enough room to touch.

Usually, he would reach for his cock first, touching and stroking it until it was too much until he couldn’t stand the desire anymore, but today Peter was impatient. He didn’t even pull down his panties, just slipped the fabric aside to get better access.

The first touch against his dripping hole was burning hot, too much, and Peter shivered, the pleasure almost hurt. He was so worked up, sitting in a classroom all day, and now surrounded by the smell of his Alpha. Fuck, what was he thinking? His Daddy wasn’t his Alpha, although there was nothing he wanted more. It would be a dream to be owned by a man as perfect as Tony Stark.

To stop his mind from spinning, he distracted himself, thrusting his finger into his wet heat in one stroke. “Daddy, god. Yes.” He closed his eyes in bliss, imagining it was the Alpha’s finger that had entered him. He moaned, feeling his tight walls clinging to the single digit. It wasn’t enough. He needed more.

Peter was out of control, he was no longer aware of his surroundings and so he almost screamed when a voice interrupted his pleasure. “You wanted me to walk in on you, don’t you?”

Peter froze, his finger still buried deep inside of him, and he slowly opened his eyes. In the doorway stood his Daddy, dressed in one of the fancy suits he wore to work, and his arms crossed in front of his chest. He looked good like every fantasy Peter ever had and horror started to spread in his veins. Oh, no. This was a nightmare.

He whimpered, half want half fear, his Daddy’s eyes fixed on his body and he couldn’t bring himself to pull his finger out. If he would just close his eyes, maybe everything would be a dream. He would wake up in his own bed, pinning after his Daddy like he always had. But seconds passed and he still didn’t wake up.

Slowly, Peter raised his head, trying to figure out what his Daddy was thinking. Would he be thrown out? He knew he had fucked up, and he was fully prepared for his Daddy to get rid of him. What he didn’t expect was pure hunger on the Alpha’s face. His Daddy’s hands were tightly clamped in fists, his knuckles white from the pressure, and black eyes were fixed on his uncovered hole. His face was twisted, the expression slowly changing until the Alpha stared at him like a predator. Peter shivered and immediately, his body produced more slick.

Tony growled. “Do you know how long I’ve been thinking about this?” The Alpha’s voice was deeper than Peter had ever heard before. “Do you know how long I’ve been dreaming about seeing you like this? So ready, waiting for my cock? Do you know how many times I’ve felt bad about thinking like this, about having such perverted thoughts about my own son?”

Peter shook his head frantically, whimpering and spreading his legs even wider to show off for his Alpha. He felt fresh slick running down his thighs, dripping onto the sheets which were probably ruined by now.

“Haven’t you ever wondered why I don’t want you to clean my room. You can’t imagine how wild your sweet Omega smell drives me, that I couldn’t stand it in my room, or I would have ravished you otherwise. You smell so ripe and eager, even outside of heat, it was a challenge for my self-restraint.” The Alpha cleared this throat and took a deep breath as he continued speaking, his voice already rough. “And then I come home from work early, and you’re lying in my bed, soaking my sheets with your slick, while you have your finger buried in your hole. Do you even know what you’re doing to me?”

Peter cried out, his Daddy’s words heightening his arousal until he felt like bursting. Everything was burning and it wasn’t enough. He needed his Daddy’s touch, he needed his Daddy’s knot. His control was slipping, all the shame disappeared, and he slammed a second finger into his hole, savoring the way his hot walls clenched around his digits. He felt frantic, desperate like he was in heat, but he wasn’t yet. It was his Alpha’s presence that made him go crazy.

Tony had stepped closer to the bed, his suit jacket thrown to the floor and he rolled up his sleeves, exposing his muscular forearms to Peter. He clenched around his finger, his gaze fixed on his Daddy’s exposed skin. He was so much stronger than him, could very likely hold him up while he was fucking him against a wall. He could hold Peter down without even using his Alpha voice.

Peter’s imagination went wild. He saw himself bouncing on his Daddy’s cock in the morning when the Alpha enjoyed his first coffee. He wanted to suck his Daddy’s cock during their weekly movie nights. He even wanted to be stuffed when his Daddy was on the phone with his employees. The thoughts were too much. Peter felt the trembling of his first orgasm coming closer and he tried to stuff his fingers even deeper.

“Don’t you dare, you little slut.” The Alpha looked at him with a thunderous expression, gripping Peter’s wrist tightly to prevent his hand from moving. Peter wailed, his hips bucking into the touch, but that wasn’t enough to make him come. A frustrated tear slipped from his eyes as he came back from the cliff. His breathing was hard, uneven and he hiccupped a little from the denial.

“Please.” The Omega whined and stared at his Daddy with wide eyes. He wanted to be good, he really did, but he was so close, he could barely stand it. Tony gripped his wrist even harder, pulled his fingers out, and that was enough to make him sob in earnest.

“Look at you.” The Alpha cooed, sitting down on the bed next to Peter. “You’re so desperate to get your fingers back, aren’t you? You’re whining like a little slut who doesn’t care about anything but getting her hole stuffed. But you’re lying on my bed in my room, so you’re going to play by my rules. Don’t you think that’s fair, baby?”

Oh god, the words were too much. There was nothing Peter wanted more in the world than to belong to his Daddy, to be owned by the Alpha. He wanted to be his little slut, he wanted to be ready whenever his Daddy wanted him.

“Please.” He whimpered, pathetic, not even sure what he was begging for. It wasn’t important, all that mattered was his Daddy right beside him.

“I’m not a cruel man.” The Alpha explained in a voice that proved otherwise. “I just don’t want you to pleasure yourself anymore. Can you do that for me? Stop touching your little cock and your tight hole?”

It sounded like a nightmare, but Peter was willing. As long as his Daddy kept looking at him this way, he would do anything for the man. So, he nodded, more tears running down his cheeks, and he fought to stay still, so he wouldn’t rub himself all over the sheets.

“Relax, sweetheart. I’m going to take care of you. You just have to let Daddy do it.”

Peter nodded enthusiastically, his curls swaying with the movement. He must look so wrecked, legs spread impossibly wide, his thighs glistening with slick and he was probably blushing like a virgin. It was like a dream coming true. He was lying in his Daddy’s bed, surrounded by his smell, and he didn’t have to think anymore. His Daddy would take care of his pleasure.

“I want you to turn around, to present for me. Can you do that?” The Alpha’s voice was deep, almost a growl, and Peter’s guts clenched in arousal.

He scrambled to his knees, turning around to get into the position his Daddy wanted him to be in. He lowered his shoulders to the sheets, his ass raised in the air while his hands rested next to his head. He would be a good little Omega for his Daddy, the best. Peter arched his back as enchanting as possible, presenting his features for his Alpha to take.

Tony growled from the vision and Peter felt a soft touch caressing his cheeks. “Please, Alpha. Give me your knot. Please.”

“Not today, baby boy.” Tony’s voice was hard, relentless, and Peter let out a little sob. He needed this, he needed his Daddy’s touch, his Daddy’s cock, but he would be a good boy. He would stay still until his Daddy decided he was allowed to move.

“I can’t give you my knot today.” The Alpha explained with regret. “You’re going to be in heat soon and if I want to fuck you during it, you can’t be sore already.”

That wasn’t fair. He could take it, sore or not. He just wanted his Daddy to soothe the all-consuming arch in his gut. He moaned pitifully, giving his Alpha the puppy-eye look to convince him, but Tony stood firm.

“No, Omega.” He growled, his voice shifting from friendly to determined. “You take what I give you, and if I decide not to give you my knot, then you won’t complain. Did I make myself clear?”

Peter cried harder. His Daddy, his Alpha, was disappointed in him, and it was breaking his heart. He wanted to be good, he really wanted to be good, it was just so hard when he got so worked up. “Yes, Alpha.” He sobbed, hoping his Daddy would forgive him.

“Good boy.” The Alpha soothed him and stroked his back, reassuring him that everything was fine, they were fine, and Peter let out a sigh of relief. He would try harder, he would be the perfect Omega for his Daddy.

Caught in his thoughts, Peter hadn’t realized that the Alpha’s hand had wandered lower until it touched his wet hole for the first time. It was pure bliss, his insides were clenching, and the fingertip was almost enough to let him trip over the edge. He couldn’t even moan anymore, silent and obedient from words and a single touch alone.

“Look at your hole.” His Daddy purred, spreading his slick all over his ass. “So wet for me. Do you need me? Do you need your Daddy?”

The broken yes turned into a cry when the Alpha suddenly pressed two of his fingers into the tight heat. Peter’s body twisted and he lifted his ass even higher. His muscles tightened and burned under the strain, but he didn't care. All he could focus on was the feeling of his Alpha’s fingers inside of him. Peter began to buck his hips uncontrollably, impaling himself further on his Daddy’s fingers.

Tony started to move his fingers, thrusting in and out of his hole and making a squelching sound emphasizes by his slick. It was loud and filthy, outright obscene and Peter felt that his body was producing even more slick, preparing him for his Alpha’s cock.

“Can you hear that, babydoll?” Tony teased, twisting his fingers so that the sound was even louder. “Can you hear how desperate you are for me? Like a little slut?”

Peter was gone so far that there was no shame left. “Yes, Daddy. Your slut. Yours.”

The Alpha growled at the statement, his free hand roaming until it found the Omega’s neck. He gripped tightly, forcing Peter’s face even further into the sheets. It was painful but glorious, and he submitted immediately, baring his throat for his Daddy’s touch. He had never felt so good before, so consumed, although his Alpha wasn’t even fucking him yet. It was fine, he could wait.

“I want you to work for it, sweetheart.” Tony commanded. “Show me how much you want me. Clench for me and I might give you a third finger.”

Yes, yes. Peter tensed up, clenching his inner muscles exactly the way his Alpha wanted him to. It was a struggle, his muscles already straining, but he would make it, he would show his Alpha how good he could be. He moaned again when Tony finally fed him the third finger. The stretch was so good, spreading him as he loved it and Peter purred contentedly. He could die happily like this.

The fingers kept thrusting in and out of his slick passage, getting faster and faster every second, and Peter felt how he was getting close a second time. The wave felt bigger than before, the feelings heightened by his Daddy’s touch and pathetic little noises slipped past his lips.

“Can I come? Oh, please. Can I?” Peter sobbed, turning his head to ask for the permission of his Daddy.

“I’m not sure yet.” The Alpha said, deliberately twisting his wrist until he was assaulting Peter’s prostate for the first time.

The pleasure was intense, something he had never felt before. His ears were ringing, he was screaming, but he didn’t recognize his own voice anymore. Hot, unyielding pleasure was flooding him, tingling in every cell of his body and he felt his cock leaking onto the mattress, his slick mixing with the precome. Everything was wet, hot, and messy, the sheets more than ruined by now.

“Look at you, so beautiful, my little Omega. So close.” Peter preened under the praise, a warm feeling spreading through his body. “You open up so beautiful for me. I’m going to teach you everything because you are mine. Mine. Tell me, sweetheart. Tell me that you are mine.”

“Yours, Daddy.” Peter sobbed. “Only yours. Your little slut, your little Omega. Everything you want me to be, just please don’t leave me.”

“Oh, baby boy.” The Alpha cooed, the grip around his neck tightening. “I won’t leave you. I’m already thinking about claiming you. You won’t mind that I’m your father by law, will you? You won’t care if I parade you around, show what a good little Omega you are? Do you want them all to see us? Want them to see how filthy you are?”

“Yes, Daddy. Whatever you want.” Peter screamed as a fourth finger was pressed inside him alongside the other. His vision swam and he felt the feelings building up, knowing he couldn’t hold back much longer.

“Then come for me, my good little slut. Come on my fingers.” Tony ordered and it was too much.

Peter was flying. He could see stars, his mind clouded by overwhelming pleasure and he let out a pathetic whimper. It was too much, too intense, so good. He didn’t know anymore whether he wanted to push back onto the fingers or withdraw, pulling away from the feelings. He couldn’t decide but his Daddy could. His brain was knocked out by the power of his orgasm.

The waves didn’t stop, carrying him higher and higher. His Daddy was focused on his prostate, milking every dribble of come that his Omega cock was able to give. His walls clenched, gripping his Alpha’s fingers so tightly that Tony let out a small hiss. He had never come so long, so intense before and he felt his vision fading the longer his Daddy dragged out the orgasm.

When Tony finally pulled his fingers out, Peter couldn’t even respond anymore. He fell onto the sheets, lying in a puddle of his come and slick. He was weak, too tired to move or to feel shame, wrung out by the best orgasm of his life.

“Hey, baby boy. You were wonderful. Let me move you.” His Daddy ordered, picking him up easily and holding him in his arms. Peter wrapped his legs around the Alpha’s middle, clinging to him like a koala bear. He felt the thick cock of his Daddy pressed against his ass and tried to move, wanting his Daddy to feel as good as he did.

But Tony gripped his hips, preventing him from moving. “Not now, Pete. Let’s go to your room. The sheets are clean there.”

“But I want you to feel good.” Peter whined, a tear slipping from his eyes. Didn’t his Daddy want him? Didn’t he want Peter to make him feel good?

The Alpha could apparently see what was going on inside him because he soothed him, calming him with a firm hand on his neck. “I want you, sweetheart. God, I want you. But I can wait. Today was about you. Next time you can show me how good your mouth can be for me. Deal?”

The Omega sighed contentedly, cuddling up closer to his Daddy’s chest. Yes, he was fine as long as he could have his Daddy again. Endorphins were still flooding his body, leaving no room for shame.

He smiled broadly as Tony carried him to his bed, his nose buried in the Alpha’s neck. He inhaled his intoxicating smell, mixed with his own slick, and if he was in heat, he would have been aroused again by now. Instead, he was satisfied and wanted to be close to his Daddy, wanted his affection and care.

He felt that his Daddy lowered them into Peter’s bed, how the Alpha purred contentedly, and pulled him closer against his chest. The thick cock of the Alpha nestled against his crack, a steady reminder that their relationship had shifted from father and son to something else.

The last thing on Peter’s mind was that he would do anything for his Daddy, anything to make him happy. Then he closed his eyes and fell asleep.

#starkercestbingo2020 #starker

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just-rant-and-write-fic-idea · 5 years ago

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Headcanon Peter Parker as the Batboys step brother

Disclaimer: All Spiderman Characters belong to Marvel Comics

All Batman characters belong to DC

Bruce and May met when Bruce is visiting Queens for business, they begin to get close, and before they know it, they become lovers

Both of them are in long distance relationship for months, and when they decide to get more serious in their relationship, Bruce invite May and Peter to Gotham

At first, Peter didn't trust Bruce because of his playboy Brucie Wayne persona, but as his relationship with May progress, Peter began to see that Bruce is really in love with May, and May has become happier ever since she become Bruce's lover, so Peter approve of their relationship

Though, Peter is really nervous and overwhelmed because he live his whole life as an only child, then suddenly he will have four brothers, but he is also excited to meet them and want to get closer with them

Jason, Tim, and Damian are feeling sceptical and suspicious at May and Peter because Bruce didn't have a good records in the ex girlfriend department, while Dick accept Peter happily and try to make him as comfortable as possible in the Wayne manor because he understand that Peter must be really nervous to be in new environment with new people, and hey, the more little brother, the merrier

Dick like to show his acrobat tricks to Peter because Peter is always so amazed by his acrobatic performance, he also try to teach Peter some tricks, most of the time Peter are not able to do it because he is clumsy, but weirdly, sometimes when Peter is in a good mood and really excited, Peter is able to nailed the acrobat trick perfectly, but his face will get pale as of realizing something bad, and when asked to do the same trick, he will mess it up, almost like he want to hide something, Dick wonder what he is trying to hide...

Jason rarely came home so he's not really close with Peter, but Jason do like Peter, he began to like Peter when one day, he had an argument with Bruce, he stay in the library to calm himself, then Peter come to the library, trying to cheer Jason up after hearing the argument. At first Jason snap at him because he's still angry, but Peter didn't give up and keep making a joke to cheer Jason up, eventually Jason began to calm down, and they spend the time making a joke at each other, Jason sometimes take Peter riding with a bike and hang out with Roy and Kory

Tim and Peter began to get closer when one day, Tim is busy fixing his laptop, but no matter what he do, his laptop still can't be turned on, Peter who saw Tim's struggle, offering to help him. Tim who's really frustrated by the laptop and in need of more coffee let Peter try to fix it, and was really surprised when Peter able to fix it. Soon after that, they become best nerd brothers and often found talking about tech stuff with tech language that didn't make sense to other people, Barbara sometimes join their tech talk too

At first, Damian dislike Peter because he already have to share his father with his four siblings, he didn't need more competitor! Also, because Bruce and May get married, Damian's dream for his parents to reconcile and get together will never happen

But Peter, who want to get closer with his new siblings, didn't give up and keep trying to make Damian accept him as his brother despite all of Damian's harsh words and other bad things that Damian do to keep Peter and May away from his Father

Damian's heart began to open up for Peter when Peter save him from people who try to kidnap him when he is on the way home from school. Peter ended up get stabbed by the kidnappers to protect Damian because he can't use his full power without risking his secret identity get revealed, Damian feel really guilty about it

Damian: "Why did you get yourself injured to help me after all the things that I have done?'

Peter: "Well, I can't just let those people kidnap a kid just to get money, especially if the kid is my little brother, I know that you hate me because it seems like I'm taking away your Father, but Damian, your Father's love for you will never be gone or lessening just because he has another child, you know Bruce will never do that, he love you very much, he love all of us, and I will never take him away for you, I will never do something that will hurt you, because I love you Damian"

Damian then hug Peter while crying, apologizing over and over to him, Peter hug him back, telling Damian that it's not his fault, while gently caressing his head

After that, Damian and Peter get so much closer, not as close as Damian with Dick, but Peter is definitely his second favourite brother after Dick

One day, the League of Assassins attack the Wayne manor because Ra's are mad that Batman thwart his plan. Ra's heard about Peter, so he want to hurt him as a revenge to Bruce

Batfam who heard about Ra's plan immediately rush to the manor to save Peter, they expected to see a terrified Peter injured and surrounded by the league members

They didn't expect to see Peter fighting skillfully and able to defeat almost all of the League members

Peter: "WOW it's the Batman!! He's real! I meet Batman! Wait until Ned hear about this, he must be so jealous-- okay this is not the time for that, um, Mr. Batman, help please?

After the initial shock, the Batfam and Peter continue to fight the League members, Peter only using his physical power to fight so that his identity will not get revealed, but when a League member shoot a gun at Robin and he didn't have time to dodge the bullet, Peter immediately shoot his web at Robin and pull him away from the bullet's way, because there's no way he will let a child get shot just to hide his identity

Now that his identity is revealed, Peter immediately wear the Iron Spider costume and use his full power to defeat all League members

After the fight is over, Batman take off his cowl to reveal Bruce, cue Peter giving the suprised Pikachu face at the Batfam members when all of them take of their mask to reveal that his family is a vigilante family!!

Peter then tell them everything about Spiderman, how he got his power, get recruited by Tony Stark, etc. In turns, all the Batfam members also tell their vigilante story to him.

Now that they didn't have to hide their vigilante life from each other, Peter and the Batfam begin to get even more closer than before, he also sometimes join them patrolling Gotham if he didn't have to do Avengers mission or if the situation is too dangerous and need more help

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swan--writes · 5 years ago

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Hey! How about "It's Still Rock and Roll to Me" for the Feb asks?

I did not edit this. At all. Not a single sentence. Heard you were having a rough time though, so I wanted to get this out tonight. I hope you feel better, and if you need to talk you can chat with me!

Warnings: VERY negative self-talk, total despondence, just a really bad day man

Words: ~1,380 (this will probably be the longest request I write this month)

What’s the matter with the clothes I’m wearing?

You held the thick paper with one hand, shading with the other.

Can’t you tell that your tie’s too wide?

The radio played softly in the background. You sat hunched over your wooden kitchen table, the light hitting the page just right through the window.

Maybe I should buy some old tab collars?

“It’s a sign,” came a voice from over your shoulder.

Welcome back to the age of jive.

“What’s a sign?” you murmured. You didn’t look up from the comic strip you were working on. It was your morning warm-up – a pointless little piece about two chairs having an existential debate à la Calvin and Hobbes. Personally, you agreed with the sturdy, elegant armchair, but of course, the folding chair had the final word.

Dewey turned up the radio, then set his briefcase on the bench beside the door. Dewey with a briefcase was still a very…very strange sight, but Peggy and Ned had given it to him for his birthday a few days ago and damnit, he was going to use it whether he liked it or not.

Your boyfriend came to stand before you. “Look at me.” Serenely, you obliged. Shiny oxford shoes, grey pants, scarlet and burnt orange knit vest over a white button down and orange tie, floppy wavy hair. “I look ridiculous. I can’t go out like this, there’s no way.”

Where have you been hidin’ out lately, honey?

Raising an eyebrow, you let go of your pencil and stood. “Well yeah, you gotta tuck your shirt in.” Dewey’s breath went shallow when you straightened, only a few inches from his soft, stunning body. “Where’s your belt?” You lifted your leg over the chair you had been sitting on and hopped away from the table, heading over to the coffee maker.

You can’t dress this trashy till you spend a lot of money.

“Uh, it’s in the bathroom. Always forget it.” You smirked at his breathy tone, loving the affect you had on him. “Um…” Dewey’s feet seemed to carry him toward the bathroom before he had made a decision. Swaying to the music, you poured the rest of the coffee you had made earlier into a travel mug, spooned in some sugar, screwed on the top, and shook it. He always swore he could tell when his coffee was stirred, and apparently it threw off his whole day.

Dewey came back into the kitchen, going to stand where he had been moments earlier. His button down was tucked in now, and he wore a belt. You walked up to him, handed him the travel mug, and loosened his tie.

“You’re trying way too hard, love.”

“Right,” he laughed shakily.

Everybody’s talkin’ ‘bout the new sound…

When you slipped his down out from his collar, you could feel the heat radiating from his neck. You smiled at him sweetly, kissed his cheek, and smacked his hip gently with the tie like you would with a dish towel. “Enjoy the meeting.” He nodded, picked up his briefcase, and rushed through the door before you could do anything else.

Funny, but it’s still rock and roll to me.

You spent the full day drawing comic after comic, writing plotline after plotline, singing along with old song after old song.

Nothing seemed to turn out right. You tried turning off the music, it was too quiet. You tried turning it up, it was too distracting.

Oh, it doesn’t matter what they say in the papers ‘cause it’s always been the same old scene.

You moved with the sunlight. You took breaks, dancing around the living room of the apartment you and Dewey shared.

There’s a new band in town but you can’t get the sound from a story in a magazine…

You doodled aimlessly in the cheap sketchbook Dewey had given you for your anniversary. But nothing you tried helped. Nothing worked. Eight hours and you had not produced a single goddamn worthwhile thing. How – fucking how did this become your job?

Aimed at your average teen.

Eventually, you collapsed onto the couch, your legs hanging over the arm.

That’s how Dewey found you when he came home after music coaching. The plan had been for him to get changed and get a drink with Ned and some other guys they had gone to high school with. The plan had been that you would be at home working all day. The plan went out the third story window and crashed to its rather graphic death the moment he saw you lying half-on the couch, staring at the ceiling with your hands clasped on your abdomen like a corpse.

Ooh, what’s the matter with the crowd I’m seeing?

“Honey, what are you doing?” he asked, not entirely without humor but clearly concerned. You couldn’t see him, he was standing at your feet and you were still staring at the ceiling, but you imagined a creased brow and a nervous smile. You shrugged as best you could with your shoulders pressed into the cushion beneath you.

Don’t you know that they’re out of touch?

“Chillin’. Maxin’, relaxin’. How are the kids?”

“Stuck up little brats.”

Well, should I try to be a straight-A student?

“Talented brats,” you pointed out. He made a playfully indignant noise. “You love those guys.”

“Yeah…” For the first time since Dewey had left that day, you smiled.

If you are, then you think too much.

“What’s wrong?” he asked softly. It wasn’t often that his tone became this gentle, but when it did you knew you couldn’t brush him off if you tried. Dewey came to sit on the couch. You thought he would sit beside your head, but instead he slipped his soft, strong hands under your head and the center of your shoulders and lifted your head into his lap. He stroked your hair and leaned back, clearly prepared to listen to you.

Don’t you know about the new fashion, honey?

“Nothing I do is good enough,” you rasped, gravity pulling an involuntary tear from the corner of your eye.

All you need are looks and a whole lotta money.

“That’s not true.” You shook your head at Dewey’s insistence. What did he know about visual arts? This was your job, not his. And you were failing. But trying to explain it to him would be too much, and you knew it.

“Forget it,” you said, stretching an arm across your torso. “Can you just scratch my arm?”

It’s the next phase, new wave, dance craze, anyways…

“Uh-uh, not until you talk to me.”

The sigh that escaped you nearly took out a lung tissue sample. Dewey just raised his eyebrows and waited. You forced yourself to speak through your readily tightening throat. “We all have industry standards, and I am falling miserably behind.”

It’s still rock and roll to me.

“Are you?”

“Yes,” you insisted.

“Y’know who else fell behind?” You simply watched him and waited. “Every artist who’s ever lived. Me. This time last year, I was a basement-dwelling trashcan who literally impersonated my best friend so I wouldn’t get kicked out.” His voice was flat but sympathetic, pressing against the doubts crashing through your head and trying to force them behind the dam that had been in place that morning. “So get out all the dumb shit. Trust me, I know it’s in there.”

At that, you had to laugh. You couldn’t help it.

He laughed with you and slowly started scratching your arm soothingly. “I’m serious, let yourself make terrible art! We went to the battle of the bands with a song written by a ten year-old because I couldn’t write anything worthwhile. It’s okay to make bad art–even just art that you think is bad. Just make art, a’right?” Dewey lifted your hand and kissed it.

“But it’s my job,” you protested, voice cracking.

“Technically, teaching was my job, and look how that turned out.

“It turned out perfectly.”

“I almost got arrested, Y/N!”

Everybody’s talkin’ ‘bout the new sound…

“Yeah, yeah,” you grumbled. He laughed at you and nuzzled the back of your hand.

Funny, but it’s still rock and roll to me.

Buy Me a Coffee?

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css1992 · 5 years ago

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Damn, love your starker content. If you're looking for a prompt or something, I have one I think would be great for this pairing: TeenAU starker where Peter has braces and wants to give Tony a blowjob, even tho he's never done it before. Cue braces getting stuck followed by an embarrassing hospital trip or getting caught by someone. Tx for top tier starker.

First of all, I’m so sorry this took so long, I was having that worst writer’s block, I hope you can forgive me and I hope you’re still out there to read this! T.T Second of all, thank you so much for your kind words, sweetie, you’re too nice

High school AU, explicit, 18+

Word count: 5.7k

Summary: And even though he knew how he felt in his heart, he wasn’t quite ready to say it out loud, wasn’t ready to put it in so many words. He worried it was too soon, maybe Tony would freak out and leave, but still, he wanted to take a step further in their relationship, he wanted to show Tony how much he appreciated him. So he came up with a plan and it involved, well, his mouth. But he’d hesitated for too long and now he had freaking braces and he couldn’t help feeling a little insecure about them.

Warnings: mentions of bullying, mild violence (not explicit), anal fingering, oral sex, brief mention of blood. If you find anything triggering, please let me know!

-x-

“Come on, babe, there’s no way I’m not gonna like it, you’re beautiful, you couldn’t look bad if you tried.” Tony tried to pry Peter’s hands away from his mouth, but the younger teen held them tighter against his face, shaking his head firmly. “Please, for me? Just let me see it, you can’t hide forever, right? Get it over with.” Peter frowned, but then sighed, thinking to himself that Tony was right, there was no way he could hide it much longer anyway. Better rip that band-aid off. He took a deep breath, let his arms fall to his sides and smiled tentatively at his boyfriend. Tony held his face in his hands, thumbs stroking his cheekbones softly as he admired the metal wires and brackets on Peter’s teeth and that must have been the most embarrassing moment of his life. “You look so cute right now, you know that, right? I could eat you right up.”

“You mean it?” Peter whispered quietly, afraid that Tony would notice that he sounded funny, too, not yet used to how the braces sat against the roof of his mouth.

“Of course, munchkin.” He pulled Peter close and placed a sweet, warm kiss on his lips and it made the butterflies in his stomach go wild, but it quieted his nervous heart. He pulled away and smiled a little wider, if Tony said it was cute, then maybe –

“What’s wrong with your face, Penis? Looks like you had a fight with a cheese grater and lost.” Of course Flash wouldn’t leave it alone, Peter should have known. He closed his lips tightly and shrank against his locker, dropping his gaze to the floor, only to hear and feel Tony moving away from him and towards Flash.

“Wanna say that again, you little fucker? Come on, I fucking dare you, I’m gonna show you what’s wrong with your face, I’ll break your fucking teeth and no braces will be able to fix your ugly mug ever again, you fucking piece of shit.“ The boy kept pushing at Flash’s chest until he was cowering against the opposite wall and Peter jumped into action, pulling Tony’s arm just as other students started gathering around them in the hall, curious to see what the commotion was all about. Tony had already been suspended for punching Flash in the face not three weeks earlier, Peter couldn’t let him get in trouble again, he knew Tony’s father was… a complicated man.

“Tony, it’s ok, it’s fine, come on, leave it alone.” After a lot of pulling, he was finally able to get his boyfriend off Flash’s face. He didn’t waste any time and scurried away, yelling something over his shoulder that Peter couldn’t quite make out. Tony was fuming, face red, hands closed into fists. The younger teen peppered small kisses on his cheeks and lips to try and calm him down some, and finally the boy seemed to come back to himself. “It’s ok, I’m ok.”

“It’s really not, Pete, that asshole can’t talk to you like that, I swear to God, I’m gonna –“

“Forget about him, come on, he’s gone.” He stole a quick kiss from the older boy, who sighed heavily, burying his hands in Peter’s curls to pull him closer, deepening the kiss.

Peter still shivered and blushed at Tony’s eagerness and boldness. It was all pretty new to him, he’d never had a boyfriend before, just a few short flings. Tony, on the other hand, was – to put it mildly – very experienced. He’d dated pretty much all of the cheerleaders and a few guys on the football team. It was weird for Peter, kissing him in the halls, having Tony walk him to and from classes, sitting at the “cool table” in the cafeteria, having people that he’d never met in his whole entire life gossiping about him.

Peter had heard so many stories about Tony before they got together that when he asked him out, almost four months earlier, he was sure it had to be a prank. There was just no way the Tony Stark could actually be interested in him, so, naturally, he said no. The older boy had looked so confused and shocked as he took a few steps away from Peter, all that famous confidence and cockiness completely gone.

“Oh,” he whispered, sticking his hands in his pockets, looking around the empty classroom he’d pulled Peter into. “I just – I mean, are you seeing someone else?”

“What?” Peter blushed, heart racing and palms sweating. He was so nervous, Tony was known for being a bit of a hothead, he always got into trouble for losing his shit and starting fights, Peter wasn’t sure if maybe he’d get angry because his prank didn’t work. “It’s not – I’m not seeing anyone, I just – I’m –” He stammered, not fully able to complete his sentences. To his surprise, the older boy didn’t get angry, he just ran a hand through his thick, dark hair and smiled in defeat.

“Is it because I got suspended last week? I swear, it wasn’t my fault, that asshole was bullying my friend. Bruce! You know him, right? He’s in the Decathlon team with you, ask him!” His eyes were wide, like maybe he’d found the reason why Peter said no, but then he quickly deflated. “Unless you just don’t wanna go out with me, which is fine, I mean, you don’t have to like me, I just thought – well, doesn’t matter.”

“Look, I know this is a prank.” Peter frowned, and Tony’s eyebrows shot into his hairline.

“Excuse me?” The older boy looked at him like he’d grown a second head, and Peter thought maybe he’d pissed him off for good. “What, you think I’m some mean girl in a teen movie or something?”

“I just – why would you even ask me out, honestly? You don’t even know me and you’re always making fun of the Decathlon team and the school band – both of which I’m a part of, in case you don’t know.” Peter had noticed Tony was always at the Decathlon competitions and band practice, and he was always laughing and whispering with his friends, and Peter could swear that he sometimes caught him looking directly at him before whispering something to James Rhodes.

“Ok, first of all, I don’t make fun of the team or the band, I just make fun of Bruce, but that’s because he’s my best friend and we like to mess with each other, I didn’t mean to upset you, I’m sorry. And yeah, I don’t really know you, but I’d like to, that’s exactly why I’m asking you out. You’re smart, talented, and it doesn’t hurt that you’re easy on the eyes, to be honest.” He stuck his hands in his pockets and shrugged his shoulders. Peter felt his face burning and dropped his gaze to the floor. “There’s no evil plan, I just think you’re cute, is all.”

“How do I know you’re telling the truth? That you’re not messing with me?” He whispered, looking at him from under his eyelashes and, again, the older teen just shrugged.

“I guess you’ll just have to trust me, shortcake.”

And Peter did. For whatever stupid reason, he did. He didn’t really know Tony, just knew about him – knew that he was a certified genius, but also a troublemaker. He knew he was filthy rich, but he didn’t hang out with other rich kids, like Flash and Osborn, he was best friends with Rhodes, Pepper and Bruce, who, like Peter, didn’t come from money. He knew he was really popular and he dated around a lot, but he wasn’t an asshole about it – not that Peter knew, at least. He didn’t kiss and tell, he never slut-shamed anyone or leaked nudes of his exes, which was more than Peter could say about most guys in school.

So he gave it a shot, said yes and they went out for burgers. Tony was nice, funny and smart – but he was also sarcastic, short-tempered and a little arrogant. Peter wasn’t really sure how he felt about him after the date was over, but when he went to bed that night, he couldn’t stop thinking about him, about his lips – couldn’t stop thinking about the kiss he’d dodged in his car when he dropped him home. Still, the older boy had smiled and kissed his cheek instead.

The next day, Peter was standing by his locker in between classes, talking to Ned and MJ about the movie marathon they were planning for the weekend, when he noticed the older boy approaching. Peter wasn’t sure if Tony would talk to him in front of the whole school, he had a reputation to keep and Peter was kind of a nerd, but not only did he talk to him, he also kissed his cheek as he greeted him, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Hey, I’m Tony,” he introduced himself to a very flustered Ned and an unimpressed and suspicious-looking MJ. The former just waved dumbly and made a weird sound at the back of his throat and the latter just nodded at him, acknowledging his presence. Tony didn’t seem to mind the weird interaction, just turned back to Peter and smiled. “Wanna grab lunch together today?”

And that was probably the very moment Peter started falling for him. Slowly, but surely. He insisted on carrying his books, walking him to class, sitting with him at lunch, he even drove him home most days, even though his house was nowhere near Queens. He was a bit of a hothead, yes, and he sure as hell was trouble – and May could smell it from a mile away when Peter introduced him – but he was also the kindest, sweetest, most amazing person Peter had ever met and he wished Tony would let other people see that.

Peter loved him. At least he thought he did, he’d never been in love before, but he missed Tony like crazy whenever they were apart for more than five seconds; he cared if he ate properly and regularly; he worried about his health and safety all the time; he always thought about him whenever he watched rom-coms with May on movie nights; his heart fluttered whenever he was around and, more importantly, he just wanted to be with him, take care of him. All the time. If that wasn’t love, what else could it be?

And even though he knew how he felt in his heart, he wasn’t quite ready to say it out loud, wasn’t ready to put it in so many words. He worried it was too soon, maybe Tony would freak out and leave, but still, he wanted to take a step further in their relationship, he wanted to show Tony how much he appreciated him. So he came up with a plan and it involved, well, his mouth. But he’d hesitated for too long and now he had freaking braces and he couldn’t help feeling a little insecure about them.

But then Tony looked at him with those beautiful, soft brown eyes, smiled at him and stroked his cheek with such devotion, and all his insecurities melted away and he just wanted Tony to know how much he loved him.

“Hey, about this Friday,” he started, pulling away from the kiss. He was still self-conscious about how he sounded because of the braces, but Tony didn’t seem to notice anything different, at least he didn’t mention it.

“What about it, short stuff?” He smiled sweetly, wrapping his arms around Peter’s waist, pulling him closer. He placed small kisses on his jaw and chin and the younger teen giggled, pushing him away without any force. Peter always refrained from pointing out that Tony was only a few inches taller than him – the older teen seemed so happy he found someone shorter than him to mess with, Peter let him have his fun.

“So, you know how my aunt is dating this guy from work?” Tony frowned, a little confused, but Peter just kept looking at him expectantly.

“Yeah?”

“She told me yesterday that she’s going to spend the night at his place on Friday.” He tried to give his boyfriend a sexy smile, but then remembered that the braces would probably make it look silly, so he closed his lips quickly. Still, Tony looked very excited and interested when he realized what Peter meant.

“Yeah?” He raised an eyebrow, a lopsided grin of his own taking over his face.

“Yeah, so I thought – maybe we could order some pizza and you could, uhm, spend the night?” He dropped his gaze to somewhere around Tony’s chest, brushing off imaginary dust from his shirt, as his face grew hot, when he felt the older teen’s finger under his chin, forcing him to look up at him.

“Pete… Are you sure?” He asked him firmly, serious, looking for a truthful answer, and Peter nodded.

“Just – uh, I’m not sure if I’m ready to go… all the way,” he whispered quietly, “but like – you know.” He blushed bright red, but Tony didn’t let him avert his gaze. He smiled and placed a chaste kiss on his lips.

“It’s okay, we don’t have to do anything. I’m actually a great cuddler, did you know that?”

“Silly.” Peter laughed, slapping him on the chest, feeling a little less nervous. “So, is that a yes?”

“That’s a hell yes, baby face.”

For the rest of the week, Peter couldn’t think of anything else. MJ stopped listening to him by Wednesday and just rolled her eyes whenever Peter mentioned anything Friday-related, but Ned was just as invested on the date as Peter was. He helped him pick an outfit, the perfect movie and even the pizza place they’d order from. He went as far as to send him articles about how to give good blowjobs and handjobs and Peter had to draw the line there – although he did read the articles and made some research of his own.

So on Friday, Peter waved May off, promised to be good – which she didn’t believe much – and hurried to make sure everything was perfect. His bed was made, his sheets were freshly clean and smelled like fabric softener, and there were so many pillows on the couch he wasn’t sure where they were supposed to sit, but oh, well.

He dressed casual, but Ned said he looked hot when he tried the outfit on earlier that week. He hoped he did. He wore gray sweatpants and a white t-shirt that was a little tight over his chest – he didn’t have a broad, strong chest, but it looked ok. He fluffed his hair – Tony loved his curls – and tried not to give a lot of thought to the braces in his mouth, he still wasn’t comfortable with how he looked with them, but Tony always made sure to let him know he thought he still looked beautiful, so. There was that.

So when the bell rang, he took a deep breath, gave himself a little pep talk and opened the door. Tony was leaning against the doorway, looking sinfully sexy in black, ripped jeans and a leather jacket. He smiled at Peter and pulled him in for a kiss, and if the younger teen was already breathless just from looking at his boyfriend, that kiss almost sent him over.

“Hey, peanut. You look gorgeous.” He gave him a once over, as he put some distance between them, and Peter blushed slightly, slapping his chest.

“Come on in.” He opened the door further and Tony stepped inside, quickly getting rid of his jacket and shoes, probably remembering that last time he was there aunt May almost bit his head off when he tried to walk into her living room in his combat boots.

“So, your aunt isn’t home?” He wondered out loud, taking a look around the apartment as if expecting aunt May to just jump from behind the furniture or something. It was funny, Tony was always on edge when she was around, trying to be a good boy, but she saw right through him.

“No, don’t worry, the coast is clear.” The younger teen smiled, sitting on the couch. The older boy quickly followed with a wicked grin, sitting close beside him, placing an arm around his shoulders. Peter chewed his lips and turned on the TV, feeling his heart race in anticipation. “Do you want to pick the movie?”

“No, I’m fine with whatever you wanna watch.” Tony kissed the ball of his shoulder, slowly peppering kisses along his collarbone. Peter’s breath hitched and he knew the blush was surely going all the all way from his cheeks down to his chest.

“Uhm, are you hungry yet? I thought we could order some pizza.” He turned slightly to the side, noticing that Tony didn’t seem very interested in anything else besides ravishing the skin of his neck. “Tony,” he sighed.

“Is this okay?” He whispered, moving away a little to look Peter in the eye. The younger teen turned to look back at him, nodding slowly.

Tony smiled and closed the distance between them, pulling him by the neck to kiss him deeply, slowly. Time stopped right then and there, the room was silent, the sound of their lips moving together the only thing he could hear, the burning touch of Tony’s hands on his skin the only thing he could feel.

Funny thing was, no matter how nervous he’d been up until that moment, the second their lips touched, he felt safe, wanted, loved. He knew Tony wouldn’t do anything he wasn’t comfortable with, so he let himself go, melting into his arms like like it was the safest place in the world.

He felt the older teen wrap his arms around his waist, pulling him softly, and gave in, climbing into his lap to straddle his thighs. Tony grunted when he felt Peter’s ass press down onto his jeans-clad erection and bucked his hips up, hands sliding from his waist to his lower back to pull him even closer. Peter’s heated skin shivered as their chests touched and Tony bit his lower lip, before pulling him into a messy, wet kiss. The younger boy rocked his hips eagerly, whimpering against Tony’s bitten lips as he felt his own rock-hard cock rubbing against the older teen’s taut stomach, eyes rolling back in pleasure.

Tony’s fingers ventured under his shirt, short nails scratching across the skin of his arched back, before lifting it slowly, as if asking for permission. It wouldn’t be a first, they hadn’t done much, but they’d had a few heavy make out sessions that usually ended with both of them shirtless – but not much more than that. Peter just raised his arms and let Tony take his shirt off, baring his chest, then went right back to kissing his neck, as the older teen moaned and rutted against his ass, his cock was so hard Peter could swear he could feel it pressing against his hole, begging for entrance, even through the many layers of clothing.

“Are you doing okay there, Pete?” Tony breathed into his mouth and the other boy shivered and nodded quickly, biting Tony’s chin and burying his fingers in his hair. The older teen’s teeth and tongue slowly made their way down his throat and towards his collarbone as Peter threw his head back, closing his eyes to concentrate on the feeling of his fingers squeezing the soft flesh where his hips met his ass. “I wanna try something. You trust me?” He placed soft kisses on his chest, then his tongue found one of Peter’s perked-up, sensitive nipples and he gasped, nodding frantically. “Good.”

His hands slid lower to Peter’s ass and he squeezed roughly, kneading his cheeks as he mouthed at his nipples, alternating sloppy, wet kisses with sharp, gentle nibbles, which drove the younger teen mad with want and turned the small nubs an angry red. It almost distracted him from the fact the Tony’s hands were now making their way down the back of his pants and underwear, skin to skin, the rough pads of Tony’s fingers scratching his soft flesh.

Okay, that’s new, Peter thought, and he liked it. He closed his eyes and bit his lower lip, as Tony sucked bruises on his collarbones, his fingers slowly making their way to Peter’s crack, until one of them pressed directly against his rim, touching it, but nothing else, and his breath hitched. He pulled away a little, looking down at the other teen’s face.

“Tony, I’m – I don’t think I’m –“

“Don’t worry, it’s okay, I know you’re not ready. I just wanna make you feel good, ok? Promise.” He kissed Peter’s chin softly, which made the younger boy sigh, eyes fluttering closed, as he nodded his head. “Let me know if you want me to stop, ok? Anytime you need to stop, just say the word.” Tony whispered against his pulse point and, again, Peter nodded, and then he felt the finger pressed against his hole start to move slowly, just rubbing circles against the puckered skin and Peter was so confused, because it felt fucking amazing. And dirty. And wrong. And right.

He felt Tony moving underneath him and he knew he wasn’t just rutting against him – which he was, too. He saw him take something out of his back pocket with his other hand, then the pressure against his hole disappeared, and Peter whined loudly in complaint, then blushed furiously in embarrassment. Tony smirked at him, licking his lips.

“Patience, padawan.” He placed a kiss on his chin, then Peter heard him uncap something and when he looked down, he noticed Tony was holding a tube of lube. His fingers tightened on Tony’s shoulders and the older teen looked up at him. “Hey, what did I say? Do you want to stop?” Peter shook his head quickly, holding Tony’s face in his hands.

“I trust you,” he whispered, leaning in to kiss him, and as soon as their mouths made contact, he relaxed again.

Tony held him close, deepening the kiss, and for a few minutes, that’s all they did. Peter rutted slowly against Tony’s stomach and the older teen rolled his hips in time with him, as they kissed and kissed like time meant nothing – and it didn’t. It really didn’t.

At some point, he felt the other teen’s hands sliding again down the back of his pants, he could feel his fingers were wet and colder than a few minutes earlier and he braced himself for what he knew was about to come. At first, Tony just rested a digit against his hole, rubbing it gently, not applying any pressure, and once the younger teen relaxed completely, muscles going lax, he felt one finger try to breach him.

“Umf, Tony,” he whimpered, and he wasn’t sure what he wanted to say, why he was calling his name, he just wanted to say it. The older teen shushed him, warm, wet lips pulled his earlobe into his mouth, nibbling lightly as his finger sunk in deeper and deeper into Peter. “Oh, fuck.”

Peter had fingered himself before, but it was so fucking different from having someone else – Tony – do it to him. It felt so dirty and intimate, like Tony had all this power over him, like there was nowhere he couldn’t touch, nothing he couldn’t do, like Peter’s body belonged to him. It felt exhilarating and scary and fucking awesome and hot – so fucking hot.

Peter gasped when Tony’s finger was completely sheathed and curled inside him. It burned a little and he felt impossibly stretched, but so good at the same time, a delicious kind of pain irradiated from his lower back all the way up to the back of his neck, where his hair stood on end. He closed his eyes and pushed his hips back against Tony’s hand, silently begging for him to move. The older teen didn’t waste any time, as his finger slid out slowly, then slid back inside a little quicker and surer than before, sending shivers down Peter’s spine.

The boy started rolling his hips in time with Tony’s movements, literally fucking himself on his finger, making sure to rub his leaking cock against the older teen’s stomach and his ass on Tony’s impossibly hard cock, until he felt his finger touching someplace in him that sent him to heaven and back in a matter of seconds.

“Oh, fuck, Tony, fuck.” He wrapped his arms around the older teen’s neck and clung to him like a drowning man, soft moans and whines leaving his lips unsolicited as the finger moved and moved and pushed against that bundle of nerves so deliciously, and Peter’s cock was so hard and pressed so tight against Tony’s abs and Peter really wanted to hold out, he needed to, didn’t want it to be over so soon, but fuck –

He came with a cry, nails leaving angry red marks on Tony’s neck as the older teen pulled him into a rough, hungry kiss, biting his lips and licking his mouth like the world was about to end. Peter let him, let him take control of his body and ownership of his mouth as he rode out the waves of his orgasm, thinking that there was no way he could ever feel so good ever again in his whole entire life.

He sagged against Tony’s body when he was done, completely spent, and felt him wrapping his arms around him tightly, like Peter was gonna fly away – and maybe he would, who knew – as he peppered small kisses down the side of his face and slowly withdrew his finger, leaving the younger teen painfully empty.

“Tonight was supposed to be all about you, I had a plan,” Peter mumbled after a few silent minutes, pulling away a few inches to look into Tony’s glinting eyes. The older boy grinned, holding his face in one hand to pull him into a kiss.

“Well, I had plans of my own. I guess great minds think alike.” He butted his nose against Peter’s lovingly and the younger teen smiled.

“I guess,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss Tony again. A little roll of his hips revealed that Tony was still rock-hard and Peter took a deep breath, before pulling away, getting off his lap. Before the older teen could ask what he was doing, he was on his knees, between his spread legs, and Tony reached out to hold him by the shoulders.

“Hey, hey, hey – you don’t – you know you don’t –“

“I know.” Peter smiled again, unbuttoning his jeans carefully. He tried to remain calm so his fingers wouldn’t shake so much and Tony wouldn’t notice how nervous he was.

“Pete,” he tried, but before any more words could leave his lips, his hard cock sprung free from his jeans, which caught Peter by surprise. First, because he didn’t expect Tony not to be wearing any underwear; and second, because – fuck – he knew Tony would be big, he’d cupped him through his jeans many times before, but still – “Fuck.”

Peter took a deep breath, trying to remember everything he’d read online over the week. He closed his eyes and placed tentative kisses on the tip of his cock and down his shaft, and he heard Tony cuss under his breath, melting into the couch. It made Peter a little more confident, so he took the tip into his mouth, surprised when he felt his cock growing even bigger and heavier against his tongue, as Tony moaned loudly, hands gripping the pillows around him.

Peter hollowed his cheeks and started sucking, trying to take a little bit more of his cock into his mouth, slowly. When he was reading about blowjobs, he was afraid he wouldn’t like it, or that maybe he would gag in the middle of it, but it was actually making him hard again, seeing and feeling how turned on Tony was by his mouth on him.

He placed a hand on his heavy, tight balls, fondling them carefully, as he tried to take more of his cock into his mouth. He could almost feel the tip reaching the back of his throat, but before it did, he started pulling back, which it was enough to make Tony moan and thrash underneath him. He smiled, lips stretched wide around the other teen’s thick cock, then decided to try and take him in a little further. It was all going perfectly fine when suddenly he felt like he couldn’t keep going, like something had stuck –

“Aw, fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Peter was so shocked by the sheer desperation in Tony’s voice that he immediately tried to pull away, but Tony’s hands flew to his head, holding him in place. “No, no, no, no, no! Fuck, Pete, it’s – ah, fuck, God, it fucking –“ that was when Peter realized what was happening.

“Umf,” he was mortified, he could feel tears burning behind his eyelids as he shut his eyes tightly, not sure what to do once he realized Tony’s foreskin was stuck in his braces and it must hurt like a motherfucker, because Tony had gone soft almost immediately, as he panted and gasped for air, hands holding Peter’s head firmly in place, terrified that he’d try to move away.

“Hold on, hold on – lemme just –” he could barely finish his sentences, completely out of breath, and Peter’s face was wet with tears at that point, and he was also a little breathless. He felt Tony’s fingers in his mouth, trying the free himself carefully, but Peter could taste blood on his tongue and fuck if it wasn’t the worst night of his whole entire life. “Ah! Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Finally, he felt Tony pushing his head away as he fell sideways to the couch, both hands covering his dick as he buried his face in the cushions, trying to stifle his cries.

“Oh, my God, Tony, I’m so sorry, I’m so, so sorry!” Peter didn’t really know what to do, he didn’t even know if he should try to touch his boyfriend, he looked like he was in so much pain maybe he wouldn’t want him to, so he he sat there on the floor, frantically trying to think of what to say. “I swear I didn’t mean to, I’m so sorry!”

“I know, baby, I know, it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay,” but the way Tony was breathlessly whispering that into the cushions made it very clear that it was not okay.

“Jesus, Tony, what – I don’t know what to do!” He cried, panicked, and the older teen took a deep breath, raising his face a little to look at Peter, and his face was so fucking red and his eyes were shining with unshed tears.

“Ice, babe. Get me some ice, it’s gonna be fine, I promise, ok?” He was breathing a little easier by then and Peter nodded frantically, as he got to his feet and hurried to the kitchen to get an ice pack. He hurried back in record time and Tony turned on his back, taking the pack and quickly placing it on his lap, letting out a heavy sigh as he did. “Tony, should I take you to the hospital?” He asked, standing by the couch and looking down at his boyfriend, who winced.

“No, it’s fine,” he sighed with his eyes closed, but it didn’t calm Peter down, not even a little bit.

“Tony, I tasted blood!” He cried, fat tears rolling down his cheeks, and Tony reached one hand out for him to take.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, it’s just a tiny cut, I promise. It’s just really sensitive right now, but it’s gonna be fine in a couple of minutes, I promise.” Peter didn’t want to take his hand, he wanted to run and hide, but he also didn’t want to be alone, or away from Tony, so he lay by his side, burying his face in his neck and clutching his shirt.

“I’m so sorry, Tony, this wasn’t supposed to happen, I should have known, I shouldn’t –“

“Peter, it’s fine, I promise.” They were silent for a few seconds, until Peter felt Tony’s chest trembling under his cheek. He looked up, worried that his boyfriend was crying, but he was laughing so hard there were tears in his eyes – again. “Oh, my God, I can’t believe this just happened,” he laughed harder, rubbing a hand over his face.

“It’s not funny.” Peter was so embarrassed, he wished he could bury his head in the dirt and never have to look at his boyfriend again.

“It is a little funny,” Tony managed to say as he laughed his ass off and Peter tried to get up, annoyed, but the older teen held him. “Hey, what’s the matter?” He frowned, a little confused, as he tried to stifle his laugh.

“I wanted to make you feel good, I wanted tonight to be special, and I blew it, all because of these stupid, ugly braces, I don’t even know why you’re still here after this catastrophic disaster!” He knew he was being a little dramatic and maybe he was overreacting, but he just really wanted the night to go well, and it was ruined.

“Hey, c’mon, we did have a good time. Tonight was special, is special. We’re gonna order a huge pizza, we’re gonna binge watch all Marvel movies, and if it makes you feel any better, you can kiss my pee-pee better before we go to bed, what do you say?” He smiled that stupid, beautiful smile of him; soft, brown eyes glinting with mirth.

Peter stared at Tony’s face, thinking about the absurdness of that night, thinking that what was supposed to be a hot date night ended with Tony holding an ice pack to his bleeding dick, trying to comfort Peter for basically almost biting it off. He was silent for a few seconds, contemplating all that madness, before he exploded into a fit of giggles.

“God, I love you,” he blurted out breathlessly, almost without thinking, but as soon as the words left his mouth, his face turned red and his eyes widened, panicking. Before he could take it back, though, Tony smiled softly and winked at him, placing a chaste kiss on his lips.

“I know. I love you, too, brace face.”

#starker #ironspider #peter parker x tony stark #highschool au

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romewritingshop · 4 years ago

Text

Wake up Parker! - Chapter 3: Meeting Independence

Relationship: Peter Parker x Tall Older Reader (Peter is 22 and Reader is 26/27)

Warnings: Mention of sex

Word Count Total: 2136 (This Chapter)

Summary: Peter Parker is a student in the city of Brooklyn. He’s lazy, spoilt and he procrastinates a lot. He meets a woman named (Y/N), She’s recently moved to Brooklyn for an independent life. Something Peter is fascinated by. Over the course of a few months, Peter needs to realise that he has to grow up and become responsible for his life.

Tagged: @bggerbtch

WAKE UP PARKER! MASTERLIST

The party was a slow disappointment. There were ridiculous decorations of silver streamers and gold balloons. Most of the people were partying and dancing to some old songs from 2005. This was not a college party, it was a snooze fest. Even the sign was sad: Class of 2019. It’s lights flickered and told Peter that he wasted his time. Peter held his camera and took various photos. He got a really good one of Wanda’s grumpy face. Wanda was trying to micromanage the party and it was not going her way. She stood on the stage with a childish pout as her opportunity to do a speech was thwarted.

Michelle came and left because she had to work the next day. Peter shook his head at the serious Michelle. All people talked about was what they were going to do now that college was finished. One was training to be in the Brooklyn Police Department. Another was going to try their hand at Miss America. Peter rolled his eyes at the talk of the future. Why bother? Peter always focused on the present because it was a headache to worry about what to do next. The present has so much to offer. Peter watched a sickening exchange between Ned and Betty. He was trying to sweet talk Betty into staying longer and Betty walked off. Both of them were wearing matching T-Shirts with love written on them.

Peter stepped out of the party hall and into the corridor. He noticed a girl sat in the doorway of the building entrance. Her hair was shielding Peter’s view and Peter held his camera and watched the girl through the lens. Slowly turning around and approaching the girl from the front. She was writing down something in a diary.

Peter took a picture and the light flashed. Peter cursed inside, having forgotten that he left the flash on. The girl glanced up and gave Peter a clear view of her face. Her eyebrows were furrowed and her nose was scrunched slightly, poking at Peter. Her diary had disappeared into a bag beside her.

“Hey! I don’t remember giving permission for a photo.”

“I’m sorry, it looked like a good picture moment.”

“Well don’t. It’s a little creepy.”

Peter turned his camera to show the girl that he deleted the photo.

“I’m sorry. I’ve deleted it. But, you look really nice in the photo.”

“Maybe some other time.”

The girl gave a nod and Peter sat down next to her. The girl was dressed in a pair of dark jeans and a cream coloured camisole under a dark black open shirt. She had a black and red shoulder bag over her right shoulder and a light denim jacket. She did not look like a student from their college. Peter would have recognised her.

“You're not from my college, are you?”

“Sorry but no.”

“Thought as much. You look a little older than this crowd.”

The girl smiled and shook her head at this boy. Parties weren’t really her scene but she was dragged to come along. She managed to sneak out and sit here, get some writing done. Until this boy decided to join her. She knew the boy wasn’t trying to sound rude about her.

“Thanks for the compliment! Only a little older I hope.”

Peter gave a nod and wondered why she was here.

“So what are you doing at this party?”

“I came along with some girls earlier. This girl Wanda, she's one of the organizers and -”

Peter’s face creased up at the mention of Wanda. Always being everywhere as he stood up.

“Wanda! You came here with Wanda!?”

The girl frowned as she stood up. She was a couple of inches taller than the boy. What was so wrong with Wanda?

“Yeah. Anything wrong with that?”

“Oh man, if she sees you with me, she'll -”

Peter turned back to see Wanda with two red cups. Her eyes darted between Peter and her friend. Peter of all people had to be with (Y/N). She scoffed and strutted away from Peter. Peter sighed, while (Y/N) watched this hateful exchange. How bad was this boy that Wanda wouldn’t even give (Y/N) a drink.

“Ok, so you want to explain what that was?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t done anything. She's the one with the problem. Anyways, you’re in better hands. My company is way better than hers.”

“Is that so?”

“Totally!”

“We’ll see about that.”

The both of them headed back into the party to grab a drink since (Y/N)’s drink disappeared with an angry Wanda. The pair of them were by the punch bowl as (Y/N) poured herself and Peter some fruit punch.

“So, Mr. Photographer what do you do?”

“Me? I shop. Play video games. Spend my adopted dad's money.”

(Y/N) shakes her head at this simple answer.

“I mean what do you plan on doing after college? Unless you’ve still got another few years to go.”

“Oh! No, this is my last year. I plan on playing video games and spending my adopted dad's money. What about you? What do you do?”

“Well, for the moment I'm new to New York. I’m here to earn my own money.”

“Oh? How are you liking New York so far?”

“Actually I haven't seen much yet. I got off the plane and rested in Wanda’s apartment before she brought me here.”

Peter frowned. This girl came from far, just to attend this party. He knew Wanda was boring but he never knew that she would be a disappointment as well.

“Wait a minute. You got here today! And of all the places you could have gone to, you came to this boring college party?”

(Y/N) smiled and pretended to wipe a tear from her eye.

“I know it is disappointing. I didn’t have a choice to sleep.”

“I thought Wanda was your friend.”

“She is. I wasn’t that jet lagged and there wasn’t much to do. Also it feels a little too late to go anywhere else.”

Peter huffed a laugh. Honestly, where was this girl from? Did she know she was in New York? The city that never sleeps!

“Well, Miss Alien, you’re in Brooklyn, New York. It's never late here. It’s the city that never sleeps. And I’ll tell you the city is at its best at night. It’s more alive and vibrant. You should have been exploring out there right now.”

(Y/N) shoves Peter’s shoulder playfully.

“I’m not an alien! And you think you’re such an expert in Brooklyn, let's go for a walk, then.”

"A walk?"

"Yeah."

"When?"

"Now. What better way than now?"

Peter shrugged and agreed simply walking forward. (Y/N) was about to follow when she realised what was going on. She, a lone girl, was about to go to a random place with this male stranger. Surely the boy might have ulterior motives. Nonetheless (Y/N) had a need to clear the air. They were just in the corridor outside the party hall when (Y/N) stopped Peter.

"One second, hold on. Just so we're clear, we are just going on a walk."

Peter furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. That's literally all they were going to do. Unless she had bright ideas.

"Just a walk, unless you have a better idea."

"Actually, I just don't want to give you the wrong idea."

"But it was your idea."

Honestly why was this girl backing out? Whereas (Y/N) shook her head at the naivety of this boy. Did he really not understand where she was going with this?

"I know, but I don't even know you and -"

"I don't know you either. But let's change that: Hi, I'm Peter Parker."

Peter held out his hand to the girl and she grabbed his hand and shook it. Both noted that the other had really soft warm hands.

"(Y/N) (L/N). Just so we're clear, Peter. We are just going on a walk. I'm not going to sleep with you."

Peter's eyes widened at this proclamation. It had not even crossed Peter's mind and here was (Y/N) trying to insinuate Peter had bad intentions. He really didn't.

"Whoa! When did I say that I wanted to sleep with you? It didn't even cross my mind."

(Y/N) shook her head in disbelief. She really did choose the dumbest guy.

"Oh come on, be honest. You meet a girl at a party, sweet talk her and you're leaving with her in five minutes. Of course it crossed your mind!"

"Honestly, it didn't. But I get where you're coming from (Y/N). I promise to be a perfect gentleman."

(Y/N) states cautiously at Peter. So far he hasn't been a complete douche or pervert. Apart from the photo thing; but he was polite in that situation. So she's willing to give him a chance. Plus he's got that sweet innocent look on his face that makes (Y/N) want to trust him. Peter is one of the first guys, in her life, she hasn't had a first bad impression.

"Okay then. Lead the way, Peter."

Peter smiled and he led (Y/N) out of the party hall and onto the street. It was a little quiet but a few turns and they were near the Brooklyn Borough Hall. It was peaceful and beautiful. The weather was a nice warmth with an occasional cool breeze. (Y/N) absorbed the scenery as couples strolled by and joggers were walking their dogs. (Y/N) felt she had made the right decision. Peter, however, was concerned for (Y/N) as she talked about herself.

"Really? You don't have any friends here? Family?"

"No."

"A job?"

"Not yet."

"Did you run away from home?"

(Y/N) let out a soft laugh at Peter's confusion. Peter was stunned by (Y/N)'s free spirit. How could she be in a big city alone and without a job? Peter could not get his head around it.

"Why Brooklyn?"

"To meet you!"

"Serious (Y/N). Why come to Brooklyn?"

"Seriously, I just want to be independent. I'm from a small town, Peter. I've lived there all my life. I wanted to give my life a new direction, so I came here. To try something new."

"Like a holiday?"

"No Peter. Not like a holiday ... like ... life! Just trying and exploring new things. Looking after yourself. Cooking your own food; making and spending your own hard earned money; to love a life you've made for yourself? A feeling of independence and accomplishment. Do you get what I'm saying?"

Peter honestly drew a blank. He had no clue what (Y/N) was on about. It sounded like a lot of hard work and Peter felt a little glad that he had Mr and Mrs. Stark with him. (Y/N) noticed the blank expression on Peter's face. He was a little young as Peter expressed his concerns.

"What are you going to do for work then?"

(Y/N) reached into her bag and pulled out a magazine with a picture of a male model jogging in a park. It had 'Brooklyn Nights' in a funky graffiti style across the top. She handed it to Peter.

"Do you know this magazine?"

"Brooklyn Nights. Of course! It has great photographs!"

"And strong articles too. I'm going to their office in a few days, for an interview."

Peter remembered that she was writing in a small diary.

"Ah, of course! That diary at the party. You're a writer, aren't you?"

"Well, not professionally. But soon, I hope."

(Y/N) loved writing. Sure it could be a nightmare but once, she had an idea, she would get a lot of work done. All this time walking and talking, she realised she hasn't found out much about Brooklyn.

"So Peter, the expert of Brooklyn, tell me something about the place."

Peter completely forgot he was showing (Y/N) around Brooklyn. Her words of independence struck a deep resonance within him. He didn't understand what she was saying yet it had the most impact on Peter's mind. He noticed a bright smile on her face when she talked about being independent. Peter wanted to know more but he had to focus on the task at hand. The tour.

"Depends on what would you like to know?"

"If there was one place in Brooklyn, you could show me tonight, what would that be?"

Peter thought hard before finally coming up with the best place. Peter always came there for photographs and thinking time. It's been a while since Peter's gone there. It was the perfect place for (Y/N) to experience Peter's heart of Brooklyn. He flagged down a taxi which was passing on the road to the left of them.

"I've got one place, which really sums up Brooklyn and New York."

The both of them got into the cab and Peter gave directions for Empire Fulton Ferry Park.

CHAPTER 4: FIRST FRIEND IN BROOKLYN

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rynhaswritersblock · 4 years ago

Text

midtown morning announcements | p.p.

a/n: in this story YOU are a reporter in the announcements and betty is NOT!!!!! sorry betty love you bae <3

summary: as a reporter for midtown tech's daily announcements, it's easy to get carried away with ideas. especially ones involving the newest superhero from queens.

warnings: cussing, some chaotic energy, 5.6k words because i POPPED OFF, messy epilogue but just roll w me

+ + +

"Oh my god, she's crushing on Spider-Man."

You tried. You really tried. Sure, you were friends with Betty and Liz, but god, if some of their conversations didn't make you want to scream.

Nevertheless, you whirl around. The statement was too absurd for you not to. Liz, the pretty, popular girl, had a crush on a hero whom she'd never seen the face of.

Now that was a story.

You spin back around, snatching the book out of MJ's hands and ignoring the look she gives you.

"How soon do you think I can convince Mr. Harrington to give me an extra segment in the announcements?"

+ + +

"I'm sorry, Y/N, but I just don't think there's enough time to-"

"Mr. Harrington, please," you plead. "We can cut the segment about.. what's it called? What's New in the Teacher's Lounge? Trust me when I say this: talking about the new coffee filters and low stock in the vending machines only loses everyone's attention."

A sigh falls from the mans mouth. He scratches his beard thoughtfully and you bite back a grin at his dramatically thoughtful expression.

"Okay, fine, Madam Reporter. You can have your segment on Spandex Man," he says.

A smile pulls the corners of your lips. "Thank you, Mr. Harrington, you won't regret it."

He just nods his head, an awkward silence filling between the two of you. He eventually catches the hint and turns around, beginning to walk away, muttering.

"I swear, teenage girls and their obsession with men in tight clothing."

Your eyes widen and your face explodes into an expression of defense before you turn around, face-to-face with MJ.

"So?"

"I got it."

A smirk breaks on the girls face. "Ready to shoot?"

Your eyes widen and move over to the wall of the reporting room, the clock reading 7:29 am. One minute before filming time. You look back at MJ and shrug hopelessly, jogging over to the setup in front of the cameras and sliding in next to Jason.

"Hey, Y/N-"

"We're cutting the teacher's lounge segment and I'm replacing it with a different one," you blurt, then turn to the camera as the red light turns on and begins blinking.

"Wha- Good morning, students of Midtown Tech!"

You suppress a laugh.

"Today is Wednesday, September 21st. Happy Fall," you smile. While you were never anxious in front of the camera, you were completely unprepared. The change in segments was made literally two minutes ago, and the only ones with that knowledge were you, MJ, and (kind of) Jason. Thankfully, MJ was a quick scriptwriter, but this was something you wanted to make perfect. Your perfectionism wasn't easily controlled, and with a new segment like this, you wanted to make it just right.

You and Jason swapped reporting different details about events, the weather- the sort of stuff a lot of students didn't really care about. But, as soon as you saw the words "Y/N: INTO SPIDER-MAN SEGMENT" on the screen, you knew this would grab everyone's attention. You also knew that you would kick MJ later for not even giving you a script when you knew she was capable of at least writing a few things.

"Ohhhh-" Jason gasps, understanding what you'd meant earlier. You hit him in the arm before mentally preparing yourself as quickly as possible.

"Word about the new hero, known as Spider-Man, has taken over Midtown Tech, and everyone seems to have the same question: who is the man under the mask? Well, Tigers, I've decided to take it upon myself to discover this upcoming Avenger's identity. In this segment, you'll see interviews and videos of the hero, as well as a link in which you can scan a QR code on the screen and submit guesses, and later vote on who you think it is!"

"Yo, that's dope," Jason nods, looking at you, impressed and surprised.

"It is," you smile at the camera. "Now onto Cindy, who is with the Mr. Harrington to talk about the importance of, um, kissing your pets at least 10 times daily..?"

The filming session wraps with you and Jason doing your signature sign-off (putting on sunglasses and playing Midtown's anthem on kazoo's). You slide out of the chair, setting your glasses on the table behind you and walking over to MJ with a sigh.

"Dude, what the hell?"

"Hey man, you did fine without a script," she retorts, raising her hands in defense.

"I'm aware," you raise a brow.

From across the room, you can hear the editors grouping around the computer, laughing at all the memes and sound effects they're gonna put in.

+ + +

Not good. Not good not good not good not good.

Peter Parker stood frozen, feet away from one of the multiple TVs in the hallway, jaw slack as he stares at the screen.

Not even the chaotic memes and crappy video effects could make him laugh (the boy had a weak spot for Comic Sans).

He knew who you were. Peter'd occasionally see you in the hallways, and you'd always smile or even just give him a small look of acknowledgment. Still, never talked. Which, now that he thought about it, was probably a good thing. The second you figure out Spider-Man's voice, it'll be engraved into your brain, and there'll be no hiding if you approach him.

"Hey, Peter!"

The boy jumps, spinning around to see Ned, about 20 feet away, bright smile painted on his face as he waves a bit aggressively. Peter mentally prepares himself before walking over, plastering a (hopefully convincing) grin on his face. Ned, of course, is oblivious and falls for it.

"Dude, did you watch the announcements today?! That shit is crazy! I mean, Y/N's so smart and stuff, she's probably gonna figure out who it is in, like, two weeks," Ned babbles.

Peter looks around cautiously, feeling as though all eyes are on him, despite the fact that he was most definitely on the bottom half of the popularity list.

"Yeah, weird."

Just then, he sees you turn around the corner with MJ, waving to someone he didn't know, and catches a smile on your face.

His prior neutral opinion about you began to shift.

+ + +

By the end of the day, you were practically floating. The entire school was buzzing about the new segment- hell, it almost creeped you out how excited everyone was. At lunch, people couldn't stop glancing over at you, whispering about who they thought Spider-Man might be. At first, the looks were different, interesting, but now they just made you plain uncomfortable. Nonetheless, when you stepped outside after the final bell and everyone's mind shifted from the segment to the idea of getting home, you felt proud.

And, although the two of you were apart, both in terms of distance and relationship, you and Peter felt the same feeling as you flopped onto your respective beds in your respective apartments:

You now had the weight of the world on your shoulders.

+ + +

The FBI agent in your phone was probably terrified. You went from being an average, phone-using teen, to being a complete stalker, notes and news apps taking over your storage- all to make sure you'd never miss a story. Moreover, you'd done all this within the last two hours.

With the exponentially rising expectations from your classmates, you made a promise to yourself that you wouldn't let anyone down. That started today: the day of the Spider-Man's Secrets debut.

Just as you lay back on your bed, back sore, you come to the realization that all of these precautionary apps would only give you the scoop after the incident. AKA: not soon enough. You groan, rolling off your bed and slipping on your shoes, grabbing your keys and making your way out of the apartment.

While hadn't necessarily wished to be walking through the streets of Queens as the sky darkened, part of it was kind of peaceful. If you ignored your paranoid thoughts.

Nonetheless, you thought, if you were to get attacked, the man of the day would show up, right?

A sigh falls from your lips as you round the corner, figuring you'd go to Delmar's and get a sandwich. And pet Murph.

Your plans are foiled when you stop in your tracks at the sight of Spider-Man battling some robbers in the bank. Even though your eyes widened, you let out a small laugh- the robbers were wearing Avengers masks. How nice for Tony Stark's image.

The whole situation looked like one of those weird money-tornado things you'd seen at arcades. You rip your phone out of your pocket and begin recording just as a purple beam shoots out of the bank, streaming in a haphazard circular shape and nearly hitting you. A yelp elicits from your mouth as you duck. When you rise, the robbers are gone, and Delmar's is on fire.

"Holy shit," you gasp, checking to make sure your phone is still recording.

You felt a little stupid as you ran over to the building, phone in the air like a goddamn touristic maniac.

"Ma'am, I'm gonna need you to get out of the way, it's-"

You feel a pair of hands wrap around your waist, pulling you back. You begin to wriggle out of the grasp before you turn your head and meet eyes with Spider-Man. The large white eyes of the mask widen, as do yours.

"It's, um," he clears his throat, lowering his voice and using a Jersey accent, "too dangerous."

In a flash, he's gone, leaping through the broken window and yelling for Mr. Delmar, voice back to its high state. You're stunned, not having expected to have gotten that lucky on your first night, as well as from the state of the building you had loved so much. You stay there, standing at the edge of the sidewalk, chewing nervously on your nails as you wait for Spider-Man to run back out, hopefully with Mr. Delmar and Murph.

You had a job to do.

A relieved sigh leaves your lungs at the sight of the hero helping Mr. Delmar out, handing him Murph with such a careful and cautious demeanor that gives the hero so much humanistic personality that it practically knocks you out.

You knew you were one to notice body language, but watching someone without being able to see their face only amplified them. You watch silently as Spider-Man hangs his head as he walks away from the scene, looking tired, ashamed almost. People begin gathering around the building, videoing and a few going over to Mr. Delmar and lending him support. A ping of guilt rings through your veins before you remind yourself of your job.

"Excuse me?"

He stops, turning around. Reporters begin pulling up in large news vans.

"I have a few questions."

+ + +

The only time you'd ever flown was at the airport. Or in your dreams. But never this way.

Your heart was still racing, despite having landed on the roof of some building almost a full sixty seconds ago.

"Sorry, but could we hurry this up? I kinda, uh, need to get home," he says, hints of paranoia lacing his words.

"Yeah, sorry, just, you know, have never swung on a fucking web multiple stories up before," you nod, pursing your lips and instantly regretting your harshness. "Sorry."

He nods. You pull up the voice recorder app on your phone and hit the button. A rush of awkwardness hits you.

"So, uh, Spider-Man: tell me about yourself."

"Well," he scratches the back of his neck nervously. His voice is deep, with that same rich Jerseyan accent. You don't buy it at all. "I'm, well, I'm Spider-Man. I like.. helping... people?"

"Uh, yes-" you blurt, nodding your head. You didn't want to completely bombard him, you wanted to just intro him and get some exclusive information. "How did you get your powers?"

He goes on to explain that he was bitten by a radioactive spider. Luckily for you, he goes off on a tangent, ranting about how weird it was and what exactly his powers were. You smile every time you notice his accent and deep voice slip into something that sounded more natural- higher, but natural.

Based off of the hints of his voice alone, you'd guess he was anywhere from 12-18 years old.

"And then I would wear like super big shirts to school to try and hide it because I didn't want to look suspiciously stronger--"

"School?" you interrupt.

"Oh, uh.. yeahhhumIgottago!" he blurts before awkwardly backing up, jumping off the building and swinging away.

A smile creeps onto your face. Enough to satisfy your classmates.

+ + +

"Luckily, I was able to catch the hero right after the incident, and he swung me with him to the top of a building for privacy from other news stations and police officers," you smile, ignoring how Jason was bouncing excitedly next to you, eager for information. He was a prime example of the excitement going on around the school.

"Spider-Man received his powers from a bite from a radioactive spider, and gained his new skills over night. Reportedly, he woke up with defined and large muscles, giving him the physique you can catch while he swings by. He has super senses that can detect any form of danger, 'sticky' hands and feet, and crafts his own webs that have been incorporated into his suit, given to him by Tony Stark, aka Iron Man. Here's a vocal clip from our interview!"

Normally, the sound of the announcements would be substantially muffled by the sounds of kids moving everywhere and chattering, but not anymore. Now, students grouped around the TVs, whispering. Peter had tried so hard to ignore your voice while not seeming suspicious.

But, as soon as he heard his own voice through the speakers, the announcements had his full attention.

He was relieved that you'd used a clip in which he'd been lowering his voice and using an accent, but there was a second in there where your masked voice slipped. Not good.

The boy suffered through the school day, ignoring the gossip of students, including Ned. Not to mention MJ suspiciously eyeing him during lunch. Either she had a crush, or she knew something. Peter suspected the latter.

As soon as the bell rang, he darted out of the doors, going to his usual hiding spot and changing, swinging as quickly as he could to the Stark Tower. The boy landed at the front steps, bending over and panting for a second before mustering up more energy and running up to the door, ringing the buzzer as many times as he could.

"Welcome to Stark Tower," F.R.I.D.A.Y. said, monotone. "Identification, please."

"Peter Parker," he pants, pulling up his mask and looking into the camera.

"Unknown identity. Access denied."

A buzzer rang off and the boy frowned.

"Let him in, F.R.I.," Tony yells from inside, walking over and opening the doors. "Hey, Pete."

"Hi, Mr. Stark. Why wouldn't it let me in?"

The two walk into the main entrance.

"No reason."

"What?"

"I just have a different name for you in the program, that's all. If the name doesn't match the face, the doors don't open."

"What name do you have for me, then?"

Tony sighs, hints of mischievousness in his eyes. "Underoos. Can't believe you wouldn't think of that."

"Got it, sorry," Peter nods, clutching the mask in his hand. "I need you to put a voice changer in my suit."

+ + +

You were starting to get a bit worried. Spider-Man had started using a voice changer in his suit, and when you asked about it, he said he'd heard about you using his voice in a school announcement, and he needed to maintain anonymity.

Of course, this had taken a toll on you.

Not only did it lessen your chances of figuring out who this kid was, but it made you feel bad. After all, you were disrespecting a hero's privacy, trying to expose them to a mass of teenagers. And all he was doing was trying to protect the very place you lived in.

You'd managed to catch him at just about every incident he'd been in, but each time, he got less and less open about everything. You were running out of questions that you deemed fairly respectful, and he became very closed off, and for good reason.

If you exposed him, he'd be much more susceptible to attackers, who'd then be able to hurt the people he loved. You sigh as you begin your walk home from school, wracking your brain for more questions. You'd dug yourself into some deep shit.

A flash of red and blue pulls you out of your thoughts.

"Spider-Man!" you yell, eyes widening when you notice a few people look at you and then divert their attention to him, gasping. You mutter a profanity before jogging over to where he'd landed on top of a traffic light. "I have a few questions."

"Yeah, of course you do."

As if the deep and robotic voice wasn't cold enough already. You hear a loud sigh at your perplexed expression, and before you know it, you were flying again, landing a bit harshly on the roof of another building.

"Ouch, okay."

"Sorry," you hear him mutter. "Off the record?"

You nod and watch as he presses a button on his wrist.

"Look-"

A smile begins creeping on your face at the sound of his normal voice, but you bite it back.

"- I don't know why you're doing this. What I do know, though, is that you're trying to expose my identity to a large group of highschoolers. Do you realize how much trouble that could cause me, Y/N? I mean-"

"Shut up-" you interrupt harshly. "You know my name?"

"What? No, I, uh-"

"You just said my name."

"It was a wild guess!"

"The fuck do you mean a wild guess?! Do you go to Midtown?"

Even the mask can't hide his panic. Holy shit.

"Look: exposing me would literally ruin my life. I need you to shut this down. All of it."

"I would if I could," you say, exasperatedly. "I don't know whether you go to my school or you somehow stalked me and found my name, but: I'm a reporter for the Midtown Tech daily morning announcements. I made a promise to my classmates that, given the craze about you, I'd try and discover your identity. It blew up, way more than I expected. I have the weight of the world on my shoulders now; I can't give this up! Everyday, at least one person comes up to me and asks about you."

"You do realize that, by exposing me, you'd cause more trouble than by just letting it go?"

You're silent for a moment. He's right.

"I'll figure something out."

+ + +

"Yesterday, when I approached him yesterday, Spider-Man swung us onto another rooftop for another private discussion, in which he answered more questions."

Lying stung you like a bitch. Off the record, you remember.

"The hero claims that he's working on becoming an Avenger, training with the current members so that he can be on the team. Unfortunately, that's all he was able to tell me last evening, as he claimed he had something to do and swung away."

You sigh when the red light turns off, slipping out of your chair and over to where MJ sat. You grabbed your bag and began walking away.

"Was all of that true?" she asks as she follows you out. You nod. "You sure? Because something was off about it."

"It's all true, MJ, I'm just tired."

Peter's face was scrunched up, confused as he watched you on the screen, explaining about Spider-Man's supposed plans to join the Avengers. And then it clicked.

You were actually helping him.

After everything that'd happened, he'd half expected you to just full out expose him. To take your assumptions and spill them all over the school, telling everyone that Spider-Man was a student at Midtown Tech who knew your name. Peter hated how good at correctly assuming you were.

Thankfully, though, everyone bought it.

"Yo, did you hear that?"

"Hmm?" the boy hums, raising his eyebrows and looking over at Ned.

"Spider-Man's going to be an Avenger!"

"Yeah, that's, uh, that's really cool," Peter smiles, trying to match Ned's optimism. The smile drops slightly when he sees you walk past.

+ + +

You found a loophole. Upon reading all the comments on your Spider-Man link from announcements, you decided to start interviewing random students to get the content you needed.

All throughout lunch, you'd been pulling kids aside- Cindy, Liz, Betty, Flash. A sigh falls from your mouth as Flash walks away (with a bit too much pride for having just gushed about the hero), and you look around the cafeteria for more people.

You meet eyes with Peter Parker.

"Peter," you call, waving him over.

He mutters a word May wouldn't approve of, patting Ned on the back before trying to mentally crush his anxiety. He begins to sweat.

"Can I interview you for my segment on the morning announcements?"

All he does is give you a slight smile and nods. You knew Peter was quiet, but you'd think he'd be a bit less cold.

"So, Peter, have any guesses as to who Spider-Man may be?"

He was trapped. The boy stood in front of you, silent, mouth slightly ajar.

"Peter?"

"I don't know," he blurts. You freeze.

"What was that?"

He trips over his words. "Oh, uh, nothing, I didn't-"

"Holy shit," you whisper. You could've been making a complete fool of yourself acting so dumbstruck, but you'd be damned if you didn't just crack the code.

"Y/N, I-"

"So, Peter," you clear your throat, giving him a look. "Who do you think it is?"

"Flash."

An ungodly-sounding laugh bubbles out of your chest, causing him to laugh too. The two of you share a knowing look.

"Thank you for your response."

+ + +

You hated the dark. It always made you paranoid. And, while the lights from all the stores and streetlamps helped, it wasn't the same as daylight. Anything could happen in New York.

You also hated how right you were about that.

You were on your way back from doing some brainstorming about how you'd continue the segment at Delmar's when you heard a rustle in the bushes. While it was your stereotypical horror movie sound, it still creeped you out. You couldn't out-walk it, though. A pair of hands wrapped around your body and began pulling you backwards.

Shit.

A loud yelp elicits from your mouth before a hand wraps around it too, and you try to wriggle out of the strong grasp. You manage to get a hand free, wrapping it around their wrist and twisting it off of your face before spinning around, meeting a dark pair of eyes underneath a generic "robber" mask.

"HELP," you yell, kneeing the guy in his crotch, finally freeing yourself as he falls to the ground. You'd never run so fast. The sound of footsteps behind you gets closer, but stops with the sound of hard impact and a groan. You stop and turn around.

Spider-Man is there, giving the guy a final punch in the jaw before webbing him to the wall and backing up, pressing a few buttons on his suit before looking up at you.

"How predictable and cliche," you sigh, rubbing your arm.

The sound of sirens begins wailing in the distance.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I think so-"

"Here," he says, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you to a rooftop, coincidentally, the one belonging to your apartment building.

"You sure have a knack for swinging me onto rooftops, don't you?"

"There's never anyone on them, so," he shrugs. You smile slightly- his voice masker is off. You were right.

You walk over to the edge, sitting down and dangling your legs over the edge. He joins you.

"Hey, um, if you could maybe not-"

"Don't worry, Peter. I won't," you say, looking over at him reassuringly. He sighs.

"Guess I can take this off now."

You watch as he pulls off the mask, taking a deep breath and shaking out his curls. You don't let yourself stare and instead just smile, looking down beneath the two of you.

"That's my apartment," you point down, slightly to the right at the fire escape.

He looks up at you in surprise and the wind gets knocked out of you. You'd never seen Peter Parker the way you did right now. He'd always been this mellow kid, yeah, cute, but sort of... in the background. A nerd (but that wasn't a bad thing). Now, though, he was in his element. The moon hitting him just right, his curls messy from his mask. He wasn't afraid of being judged because nobody was around, and he was wearing a suit that made him who he always wanted to be: a hero.

"No way! My apartment is literally right across from yours!" he says, excitement and facial expressions reminding you of a puppy. He pointed his window out, and sure enough, it was just about right across from yours as far as you could tell.

You don't know what to say, so you just smile instead, letting a little laugh out.

"So, uh," you breathe, "I'm not sure exactly what I'm gonna do about the whole Spider-Man's Secrets thing, but I won't expose you."

"Thank you," Peter sighs, voice accompanied with relief and a crooked smile.

"Maybe I can tell everyone that you're just too good. Like, you've got titanium walls all around you."

"Heh, yeah."

He looks over at you and smiles.

+ + +

EPILOGUE - NOTE:: some of the details of this may not make complete sense, nor line up with the plot of the movie in which this takes place. the point still gets across, so please don't make any rude comments lol- i did the best i could!

"I managed to send the Elemental back into the dimensional rift, but I don't think I'm gonna make it off this bridge alive. Spider-Man attacked me for some reason. He has an army of weaponized drones, Stark technology. He's saying he's the only one who's gonna be the new Iron Man, no one else."

"What the fuck?" you mutter. Peter would never say that.

You gasp at the video. Sure enough, Peter's standing there, confirming a fatal drone attack. Screams ring off in the distance and you practically choke.

"There you have it, folks. Conclusive proof that Spider-Man was responsible for the brutal murder of Mysterio!"

You sneer at the screen, the sight of J.J. Jameson making you angry. That man always got angry over the smallest things. You get on your phone to text Peter but stop. More footage from Mysterio begins playing.

"Spider-Man's real... Spider-Man's real name is... Spider-Man's name is Peter Parker," he chokes out.

You jump as Peter's school picture fills your TV screen.

"Holy fucking shit," you mutter, heart racing.

This is not right.

+ + +

He didn't answer you at all. None of your texts, none of your calls. Hell, you almost went over to his apartment, but you didn't remember his new address, since he and May moved after the Blip.

The two of you had become extremely close ever since you'd found out his identity, hanging out whenever you could. It was beyond unlike him to not answer you.

You sprinted into the news room. It was less than 24 hours after Peter had been exposed, and he was everywhere. Social media, news stations; hell, his picture was all over Times Square. And everything they were saying was all wrong.

"Mr. Harrington!"

The man spins around, startled.

"Oh! Good morning, Y/N-"

"I need you to start taping right now. Abe! You know how to hack, right? Broadcast this all over Times Square and every news station you can," you pant. The kid sits up in his seat, brushing Pop Tart crumbs off of his jeans and nodding with a smile.

"What is this all about?" Mr. Harrington asks as he moves over to the camera, cautious.

"You'll see."

You sigh as you sit in your seat, looking over at Abe. It takes a minute, but as soon as he gives a thumbs up, Mr. Harrington hits record.

"Hi. My name is Y/N L/N, and I am a student of Midtown School of Science and Technology, as well as a reporter for our daily announcements and an affiliate of Peter Parker. As I'm sure you all know, it was reported yesterday by the Daily Bugle that Spider-Man's secret identity is a boy named Peter Parker, and that Spider-Man is a so-called 'selfish murderer.' Well, I'm here to tell you that none of this is true. I know, I'm just a highschooler, but having to write several research papers for this school has taught me how to provide a statement with legitimate backup. That's what I'm here to do today.

"Mysterio, who's real name is Quentin Beck, was introduced to the world as a hero, fighting off creatures called Elementals that wrecked havoc throughout Europe. When one of these Elementals reached London, the footage shown yesterday was of Spider-Man and Mysterio on the London Bridge amidst chaos. Not only was that video altered to turn the blame on Spider-Man, but a creature called a Skrull is actually Spider-Man. Upon speaking with the head of SHIELD, I was given information on these creatures- they can shapeshift into whatever they want to be, as long as they've seen the organism before.

"Now, how do I know all this? One: after doing some light research on Quentin Beck, I discovered that he'd been fired from Stark industries in the past for his controlling and manipulative behavior. That'd explain his reasoning and desire for power. Two: upon asking a classmate of mine- who's an absolute prodigy in the field of computer technology and video- to review the given footage, they were able to find two small glitches in the footage that revealed the real video underneath, and further, unmask it completely. Abe, the video should be in your inbox. Pull it up and broadcast it, please."

You let out a deep sigh as you hear typing, then the sound of the real video.

"EDITH, turn off the drones."

The video clip finishes and the camera focus returns to you. "Now, I don't have complete proof on me about the identity claim I've made. But, as soon as the head of SHIELD gets back to me, I can prove it. What you do have confirmed, though, is that Mysterio was the problem. Spider-Man did nothing, other than do what was best for the safety of others. I have all the evidence lined up for you, and it's up to you to believe it. A message for you, Mysterio- if you're still alive- and your affiliates: don't mess with kids from Midtown Tech. We know what Spider-Man stands for, and so does the rest of the world. Trying to mess up his reputation from the grave doesn't help anyone. Sincerely, Y/N L/N and the students of Midtown Tech. As well as Peter Parker, who feels pretty attacked right now for no good reason. Have a great day!"

You smile into the camera before Mr. Harrington turns it off. You hadn't noticed them come in, but everyone on the news team had come into the room, all of them silent, dumbstruck. And then they started clapping.

You give them a tired nod and grin before grabbing your bag, saying hi to MJ and walking out. Thankfully, school hadn't started yet, but students were starting to arrive. You enter the bathroom and stare into the mirror, hoping you didn't just fuck everything up even more.

Your phone buzzes and Peter's contact picture (one of him in Hello Kitty pajamas, sticking his tongue out at the camera) fills your screen. You hurriedly answer.

"Peter! Where are you? Are you okay?"

"Janitors closet, 300 hall. Knock when you're here."

Butterflies flutter through your body as you run through the hallway, ignoring the weird looks from the couple that always shows up early to makeout against the lockers. You find the closet and knock, looking around to make sure nobody could see. The door opens and a hand wraps around your wrist, dragging you inside.

You gasp, balancing yourself, and Peter shuts the door behind you.

His appearance surprises you. He's the face of depression and hopelessness. Dark bags fill the space beneath his eyes, which are red from tears. The look makes you hate the world.

"Are you okay?"

"I am now," he breathes. "the news is buzzing about what you did. They got confirmation from Nick about what you said and, sure enough, every news station is broadcasting your claims with full evidence. Everyone's believing it and apologizing. Thank you."

You smile weakly and wrap your arms around him. "I did what I had to do."

"I don't know what I'd do without you," he mutters into the crook of your neck. The scent of your perfume makes him feel all tingly inside, the softness of your skin making him never want to stop holding you. You felt the same way.

"Ditto."

+ + +

akdjxfbavdgkjnwrjk i hope you guys enjoyed !!!!! tbh i'm not sure how to feel about this imagine lol

#peter parker #tom holland #peter parker imagines #marvel #mcu #spiderman #peter parker x reader #spiderman x reader #fanfic #fluff #writing #peter #parker #thomas holland

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