#Peter even teases them about it

[bixiebeet]

The Real Ghostbusters episode “Rollerghoster.” Egon and Janine are walking through her childhood neighborhood when they come across a carnival with a Ghostbusters themed ride. They’re incensed that the team’s likeness is being used without permission. The carnival owners refuse to take the ride down…until it truly becomes haunted.

Egon and Janine aren’t on a date. They’re just walking arm-in-arm alone affectionately…

#ghostbusters #ghostbusters 1984 #egon spengler #janine melnitz #janegon #egon x janine #egon and janine #not a date #sure Jan #the real ghostbusters #this is a kid show so we have to pretend that dating is what you do if you want cooties #Peter even teases them about it #rollerghoster #Youtube

[scoliosisgoblin]

gyat damn it dude, I joking called my friend's drawing Peter (cause he had a round head) and bro said he was gonna play me a video going over the allegations of Fuboo and her fucked up husband????

#I DON'T associate with the creators and I DON'T value them as people #I just like the characters tbh. and a lot of the community #and why does it even fucking matter that much that I called him Peter??? HE LITERALLY ALWAYS CALLS MY HUMAN YB ADAM SANDLER #it's not even that he hates the creators so it's different cause I hate Adam so like #plus I gotta be cool with it whenever he jokes about that stuff but won't be cool with my teasing? #so annoying dude. what's the point even #idk. my yb is so far from the source material that I don't even count him as apart of the universe that much anymore #I won't call him my oc really but he's so far from the yb we have now that he might as well should be called that #but idk. maybe I'm being too silly #personal #vent post

[supernovasilence]

Ok we all talk about the Pevensies' trauma at returning to Earth at the end of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe and their trouble readjusting to life there again but think of all the funny/good parts too

They return from the country, and their mom is surprised when all her children hug her at the station. Even Peter, who thinks he's all grown up. Even Edmund, who went away surly and withdrawn. She doesn't know her children haven't seen her in over a decade.

They miss their dear Cair Paravel, but they absolutely do not miss its chamber pots. Indoor plumbing is amazing.

It takes a while to remember how modern technology works, though. How many heart attacks did the siblings give their parents or the professor because they walked into a dark room only to turn on the light and find the children sitting there in the dark. (They were by the window! There was still plenty of light from the sunset! They would have gotten a candle in a minute!) The kids sheepishly remember oh yeah electricity is a thing.

(Edmund has a new electric torch in Prince Caspian. He was so excited to get that torch. Almost more excited than you'd think a kid his age would be, and his parents expect Peter at least to tease him, but the siblings all agree light in your hand at the touch of a switch is terrific.)

Suddenly getting really high grades in some subjects and terrible in others. Their grammar, reading comprehension, spelling, vocab, even penmanship? Amazing. History and geography? They don't remember anything. One time in class Susan forgets Earth is round and wants to die.

Also they can never remember what the date is supposed to be because Narnia uses different months and years. They can estimate time really well by looking at the sun though, and Edmund at least can always tell which way is north etc without thinking about it (again, using the sun)

Okay but how many times did they go to pick something up or reach something and realize they are so much shorter and less muscled than they expect? It's a common sight to see Peter climbing on counters to reach a top cabinet, grumbling about how he's High King this is demeaning. (No he never takes the extra five seconds to grab a stool. He will climb that shelf.)

Peter and Susan being delighted because they are no longer almost thirty. (In a few years Edmund and Lucy will tease them about being old and their parents will not understand.)

Lucy doesn't have to deal with periods anymore for a few years yet. Susan might not either. Heck yeah

Lucy loves to climb into her siblings' laps and be cuddled. In Narnia she eventually she grew too big, but now she is small and snuggleable again. Peter is her favorite, and if she's upset, he'll tickle her and tell bad jokes until she's smiling again, but really she loves cuddling with all her family. She grew up without her parents; how many times did she just want to crawl into her mom's lap and her mom was a world away? Imagine the first time she realizes she can now. Or, imagine one day, a cold and grey sort of day, when the rain is pattering against the windows, and it sounds like the rain on the windows of the Professor's house, that first day they went exploring. It sounds like the day they played hide and seek. It sounds so like the rain on the windows of Cair Paravel, that if Lucy closes her eyes she can imagine she's back there, having tea and chatting with Mr. Tumnus before the fireplace of her room, and soon the rain will stop, and they will go out on the balcony and wave to the naiads and the dryads and the mermaids, who have come out to enjoy the rain and visit one other on the banks of the Great River winding past Cair Paravel down to the sea.

But if Lucy looks out the window, all she'll see is the rain over London, so it's not only a cold and grey sort of day, it's a lonely sort of day too.

Susan and Edmund are playing chess in the living room (and they must have studied with Professor Kirke, thinks their mother, because they certainly weren't that good when they left). Lucy goes over to Edmund, and oh dear, thinks their mother, now he's going to call her a baby and be horrible to her, but instead he picks her up and puts her on his lap without even taking his eyes off the chessboard; it's simply a matter of course.

"Doesn't the rain sound familiar?" says Lucy in a solemn, wistful way.

Their mother doesn't know what that means, but her siblings must, because Susan says, "Yes, Lu, it does,” and Edmund gives her a little hug with his free arm as she tucks herself under his chin to watch the chess match.

(Five minutes later there is a crash from the next room as Peter falls off a counter. Their mother does not understand the words he must have picked up from the Professor, but he's grounded for them anyway. His siblings have no respect for their High King, because they refuse to stop laughing.)

#the chronicles of narnia #narnia headcanons #peter pevensie #susan pevensie #edmund pevensie #lucy pevensie #helen pevensie #the pevensies #okay this did end up a little bittersweet at the end but I tried #let's all just focus on the high king falling off counters alright #and yes the siblings all picked up narnian swear words and i refuse to believe otherwise #i'm also suddenly wondering how much language drift there is in narnia #when the pevensies return in prince caspian are all the swear words/exclamations they learned outdated? #are they using the narnian equivalent of oh horsefeathers? #nova actually posts stuff #long post // #the higher the queuer #post lww pevensies #soft post lww headcanons

[luveline]

would you be in the mood to write something for peter parker x reader?? it’s been a while since i’ve read anything new for him and i’m missing my boy :( maybe something about things getting heated while making out with peter but he knows reader isn’t ready to go any farther so he has to stop them, and then maybe reader feels guilty for not being ready bc they feel like they’re stringing him along? a good mix of (semi)smut & fluff & angst haha. thank u angel i love u <3

ty for requesting, love u <3 fem!reader, 1k

cw suggestive content

“Is that okay?” he whispers. 

You’re nearly too busy trying to kiss him to whisper back. “Yeah, Peter, just–” Fully too busy. 

Peter enjoys being on top of you for two reasons; the first, the most imperative in the moment, is because it flicks a switch in your mind that has you all flustered and breathless under his touch, your chest heaving something sorry and your hands a frenetic back-and-forth between roaming and limp on his back; and the second, his guilty pleasure, is that he’s in an optimal position to slide his knee between your thighs and listen for your breathless sigh. 

He says your name between kisses to catch your attention, finds he can’t quite get it as your mouth closes up on his and your spit wets his lips. Your hand wanders under his shirt. 

Peter has been worse than shirtless around you, a consequence of his strange after-classes hobby, but he’s not so sure you’re ready to peel him out of it. Your fingers ride up his spine. 

He fishes your hand from behind him to hold it above your head. 

“Hey,” he says, pulling back, your eyes lit and aligned with one another, the brightest light in the room. It feels wrong to speak into the dark like this, disrupting your whispers and your quick breathing. “You don’t wanna do that.” 

“I do,” you say. He’s no genius, but he sees the wobble of your lashes for what it is, sudden regret. 

“It’s okay, bub. We got too heavy too fast,” he laughs. 

You bite the inside of your lip as he sits up. It’s his fault, he shouldn’t have kissed you like that, definitely shouldn’t have let his leg slide up against you, what was he thinking? He’s kissed you so hard your lips are swollen. 

You use the flats of your palms to clamber up against the headboard. Your heart is a thudding he can’t ignore, triply loud, and his own pulse is rocketing too. 

“I’m sorry,” you say. 

“No, that’s okay,” —he reaches for the hem of your sweatpants to tug them back over your hip and stomach— “I was bearing down on you, I shouldn’t have– I–” Peter Parker levels of stuttering occur, to which he can’t subject himself, hiding his face in his hands. 

There’s a small silence. Peter attempts to calm down. Your heart rate slowly drops. 

“I really am sorry, Pete.” 

His neck cricks as he lifts his head. “What?” He lets his legs fall to the side of the bed and shuffles up to the top to see you clearly, squishing the back of your thigh where your legs are up to his hip. “Come on, what do you have to be sorry for?” 

“I’m leading you on and stuff. Not cool.” 

“What? What are you talking about? I started it.” 

“I was giving it just as good as I was getting it,” you say with a regretful smile. “You’re just such a great kisser–”

“Don’t try and distract me, it’s working,” he teases. More seriously, he puts his hand on your knee, thumb pressing to the soft crease underneath it. 

“I shouldn’t kiss you like that if I’m not ready for it.” 

“Why not? You can kiss me whatever way you like, it doesn’t have to lead to anything.” 

“I’m winding you up. Boys don’t like that.” 

“I love it,” he says, dropping his chin to his hand to speak to you from just below your eye line. “I love everything you do, I love kissing you, it doesn’t mean you have to be ready for something else.” 

You don’t accept his reassurances as quickly as he’d like, leaning back, the rising valley of your chest and tummy two pretty not to look at even as something serious transpires. He adores you, your every hill and curve and rigid line, all of it, and he’d love to fuck you but there’s no rush. What do you need to rush for? Peter’s sure it’ll be just as much fun a few months down the line as it would’ve been tonight, but it’ll be perfect then, because you’ll be ready then. 

“Who cares what boys like anyways?” he mumbles, kissing your kneecap appreciatively. 

“I just don’t wanna mess it up, Pete. I really like you.” 

“You can’t mess it up, it’s not like that, we’re not like that. You mean a whole lot more to me than that,” he says, giving your thigh a squeeze. You meet his eyes with less shyness now, the beginnings of a smile like twitches at the corners of your mouth. “I like you more than you like me, anyways. You can string me along. String me up, if you want.” 

“String you up where?” you ask with a laugh. 

“From that statue on ESU?” 

“What? How would I do that?” 

“Get Spider-Man to help you.” 

You pull the leg he isn’t leaning on up toward your stomach, knee rubbing along the inside of your opposite thigh, the last trace of regret. “You’re sure you don’t care?” 

“Don’t care, don’t mind, just want you to be happy.” He kisses your knee. “I thought you’d know that by now.” 

You brace your face in both hands, letting out a long sigh. “I don’t know what I know when you do that thing to me. How about you keep your legs away from my legs for a little while?” 

Peter smiles like an idiot, hiding his eyes in your knee and his mouth behind your calf. He doesn’t mind being honest, but you’re making him nervous flirting like that and he isn’t allowed to kiss you again tonight. “I– I can do that. No leg stuff.” He leans away from you suddenly. “God, no leg stuff. You’re beautiful, I wish you didn’t worry about me.” 

“I’ll try not to, Pete.”  

#tasm peter parker #tasm peter x reader #tasm peter parker imagine #tasm peter parker x you #tasm peter parker x reader #tasm x reader #peter parker x reader #tasm!spiderman x reader #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter imagine #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm! peter parker x reader #spiderman x reader #peter parker oneshot #peter parker blurb #peter parker imagine #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #spiderman x you #spiderman fanfiction

[alittlebitofsainz]

- he kissed me right in front of my friends -

prompt: “i threw a party, he kissed me right in front of my friends, i felt so far from the cliffs.”

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: if you could have one birthday wish granted, it would be that you no longer had to hide your relationship.

a/n: lyrics from track #89 there it goes by maisie peters :)

masterlist | the spotify wrapped collection

“hey, happy birthday baby!”

you couldn’t help but let your lips curve into a soft smile as lando pressed a kiss to your cheek, holding out a bag full of presents as he stepped inside your apartment. you accepted it graciously, eyes wide at the sheer number of gifts.

“lan, you really didn’t have to…”

“I wanted to.” he cut you off with a shake of his head, “for my special girl.”

he leaned forward to press a kiss to your lips, but you quickly batted him away.

“careful, lan, people might see!” you giggled, looking up at him like he’d lost his mind. it had been eight months of keeping your relationship under wraps, and while you both understood why it had to be that way, it still didn’t make it easy. it was moments like these where you yearned for a normal relationship, one where your partner wasn’t in the spotlight, one where he could give you a kiss on your birthday and it wouldn’t be plastered all over social media the next day. but it was worth it, you thought as you looked up at lando’s face, eagerly waiting for you to open your presents. it was worth it to call him yours, even if it was only in secret.

yeah, it was worth it, you thought, as you watched lando laughing uncontrollably at something max had said, the two of them stationed behind the dj booth you’d hired for the party. in general, lando didn’t go much on drinking, and he’d sworn off djing for the most part, but he was willing to make exceptions for your special day, and you smiled to see him enjoying himself. your best friend followed your gaze, noticing you phasing out of the group conversation you were in, and nudged you.

“you’re staring, y/n. you totally fancy him.” she teased, and for a moment you almost slipped up, you almost replied with yeah, I really do. but you caught yourself, instead laughing it off with a sharp shake of your head, elbowing her right back.

“knock it off, we’re just mates.” you protested, but your friend arched an eyebrow and pursed her lips in a way that suggested that she didn’t quite believe you. she opened her mouth to reply, but at that moment, the lights shut off and the music cut out. you instinctively glanced over back towards the dj booth, eyes searching for lando, confused to find him gone. but the confusion only lasted for a moment as a glow of light emerged from the kitchen; twenty lit candles pressed into a cake, held up by lando as he brought it across the room towards you, all your friends joining in and singing happy birthday to you. you grinned, feeling tears prick your eyes. god, you’d never been happier. there was only one thing that could’ve made this day more incredible, and you sighed to yourself as you watched lando bring the cake closer, lowering it slightly so you could blow out the candles. his eyes locked on yours for just a moment, and you swore you felt your heart stop.

“make a wish.” he murmured.

you blew out the candles, earning a cheer and a few hip hip hoorays from your friends gathered around you. lando set the cake down on the table, another friend stepping in to help cut and distribute it to guests, allowing you just a moment to talk whilst everyone was distracted.

“what did you wish for?” he asked, voice low, making you lean in to be able to hear him above the music which had started up again. you arched an eyebrow.

“if I tell you, it won’t come true.” you retorted, the corner of your lips curving up into a wry smile. it always gave you butterflies, flirting with lando in public. something about it made you feel like you were still in that stage where anything could happen, like you were just starting to get to know him all over again. his expression changed slightly as he reached into his back pocket.

“now don’t yell at me, but I got you one last present.”

“lando!” you protested; you’d already admonished him earlier after you’d opened all your gifts from him. you could tell he’d spent a lot of money, more than you believed you deserved, on anything you’d ever mentioned wanting. shoes, a nice handbag, a designer coat, expensive earrings. but it wasn’t just material things, he’d got tickets to than gig you mentioned you wanted to go to, taken out an annual membership for the gardens you always liked going to for some peace and quiet, donated money to the shelter your parents adopted the family dog from. it was far too much, yet lando insisted it wasn’t enough to show you how much he loved you.

“I said don’t yell at me!” he replied playfully, producing a small wrapped item and holding it out to you, “it’s not an expensive one. it’s just… well, just open it and see.”

you peeled off the wrapping paper with gentle fingers, the package feeling so delicate in your hands compared to all the other larger gifts he’d showered you with. it revealed a gold necklace, with a single ‘L’ hanging from the chain. you looked at it, awestruck, running a finger over the gold letter.

“lan, this is beautiful.” you murmured softly.

“to remind you how much I love you, even if I can’t always show it.” he explained softly, and you felt a lump form in your throat. it was so bittersweet, you thought, as he took the necklace from your hands and instructed you to turn around so he could fasten it round your neck. the necklace was like some sort of twisted metaphor for your relationship, always there but often hidden. you turned back to face him, glancing down to admire the jewellery for a moment. if people saw this, it wouldn’t take them long to join the dots, to make the connection, especially if you were next to lando. you sighed, reaching to take the ‘L’ between your fingers and tuck it under your top, to hide it away. but lando’s hand was on yours in an instant, holding it in place, his fingers clasped round yours, clasped round the golden letter. you looked up in surprise.

“don’t hide it.” he said softly, “fuck it. I want people to see it. I want them to know.”

the confidence with which he had said it startled you, but in the best way. you barely had time to process the words before his hand had snaked around your waist, pulling you to him, his lips on yours in an instant. it wasn’t a gentle kiss; it was a kiss that let everyone know, without a shadow of a doubt, that you were his, and he was yours.

you pulled away for a moment, eyes on him, but in your peripheral vision you clocked a few of your friends watching the two of you, mouths open, slices of cake forgotten about. your best friend had a smug grin on her face, one that said that she knew all along. you saw max begrudgingly slip pietra a ten pound note. lando saw it too, and laughed. and then you laughed. and then you kissed him again.

“happy birthday.” he murmured, resting his forehead on yours.

“I got my birthday wish.” you murmured in reply.

a/n: and thus concludes the little ‘just friends’ mixtape! check out the previous tracks below:

told her you were just a friend | just don’t want your friend to see

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 fic #f1 imagine

[theorphicangel]

“𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐜𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬?” | 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

synopsis: you have a valentine’s date tomorrow and you’re somewhat excited for it. but there’s just one thing you’re unsure about…thankfully your trusted roommate can help. right?

tags: roommate au! (Here we go again), smut, 18+, oral (m.receiving), blowjob, praise, mutual pining, these mfs are in DENIAL smh

PART ONE.

“You have a valentine’s date?”

“God, O’Hara don’t even try to hide the surprise in your voice, why don’t you.”

You cross your arms, frowning at your roommate who was currently sitting next to you on the couch. The two of you were watching a remake of a new movie that had come out recently. An hour or so had passed, the both of you stuck within a comfortable silence before your words had distracted him.

“How could you blame me?” He begins, his gaze still on the television screen. “I’ve never seen you bring anyone home before.”

“So you keep notice on who I bring home?”

A pause runs between the two of you.

“No.”

“Liar.”

Miguel clears his throat. “It’s none of my business anyways, what you do.”

After a few beats of silence, Miguel speaks again, this time with a teasing tone. “I wouldn’t want to be like you anyways, keeping track of who I sleep with.”

“I do not keep track!” you exclaimed.

“How come you remembered Cindy’s name then?”

You hesitate, stuttering off. “You–you talk about her a lot.”

“Bullshit.” A grin creeps up across his lips.

“You jerk, I was gonna ask you for a favor but since you wanna play that game, nevermind.” You crossed your arms, turning your attention back to the screen. Simultaneously, you had just sparked off Miguel’s own curiosity.

“What’s the favor?”

“I don’t want to ask you anymore, I’ll ask someone else.”

“Like who? Peter?”

“Don’t be mean, mig’.”

The movie continues to play in the background for a minute or two before Miguel starts getting restless.

“So who's the guy then? Someone you paid?” Miguel’s grin doesn’t have the time to stretch across his lips this time as you throw a pillow to his face.

“Hey!”

“Watch your mouth, O’hara.”

The two of you had been roommates for just under a year. You had moved in due to an emergency situation. A few troubles with your finances, student loans and the loss of your job resulted in you desperately responding to a roommate advert posted on the internet. Moving in at the beginning was awkward, the two of you avoiding each other, minimal conversation revolving around the weather and who would take out the trash.

But all it took was one night for the both of you to open up to each other, a shift in your realization that Miguel wasn’t as bad as you thought. A few too many drinks one night led you to learn a lot about each other. Like how he didn’t like the dark yet had a weird obsession with space. You found that he had a brother, a few years younger than him who was almost a spitting image. For him, he learned how you once had wanted to be a painter but soon switched career paths to psychology as well as taking up a foreign language.

Ever since that night, you’ve managed to maintain a good friendship with Miguel, completed with a little teasing here and there. On some nights, when you were left alone in your room, you laid back and stared at the ceiling, thinking about him. Particularly, thinking about him and the girls which he brought home. Your mind wandered to the possibilities of what he would be like with them. Imagining what it would be like to be in their position.

How would he touch you, feel you, look at you? Would he be gentle and take his time or does he rush, his passion taking over his whole body? It was questions like these that plagued your mind. You began to create a fantasy in your head, touching yourself at the thought of him touching you; imagining his movements to be slow and cautious, taking you all for himself.

Speaking of, you’ve recently noticed his lack of…visitors lately. Instead of hiding away with them in his room, he’s recently been spending a lot of late nights in your company.

“What’s your plans for Valentine's Day?” you queried, trying to maintain a casual tone. “Taking Cindy out for a romantic dinner?”

Miguel scoffs, shaking his head a little. “Why don’t you ask her out yourself, since you’re so obsessed with the woman?”

A small wave of ease flows through your mind at his answer. Yet it wasn’t exactly the answer you wanted. You pat Miguel on the chest mockingly.

“I knew she said no to you. If you ever want to talk about it, I’m here you kno—” Unfortunately you weren’t able to finish your sentence as a small scream left your mouth, as Miguel pinched your thigh.

“Watch it, imbécil.” he glared, before changing the topic. “But I’m serious, who's the poor guy then?”

You shoot an offended glare back before repositioning yourself on the couch, turning your body to face him properly.

“Someone asked me from work.”

“And you didn’t have to get on your knees and beg them first?” Playfully, you hit him on the arm and he lets out a fake wince of pain.

“Shut up. And no, for your information, I didn’t.”

Miguel hums, his eyes quickly glancing back to the television screen as he tries his best to ignore the sinking feeling of disappointment in his lower abdomen. Guess he should cancel tomorrow then.

“But I had a favor to ask you.” you turn your body, shifting your position to face him. Miguel merely raises a brow, humming deeply again with his eyes still glued on the screen.

“I was wondering if you’d…show me how to—uhhh how do I put this? Suck someone off.”

Miguel froze. Oh, now you had his attention.

“¿Qué?”

You freeze, clearing your throat as his eyes snap back to you. “I mean it was just a suggestion– I-I’ve watched a few videos but I’m still kinda—I just— I mean, I don’t–”

“You don’t know how to give a blowjob?”

It was a bit more blunt than you had wanted to put it but…yes.

You nodded silently, now choosing to avoid eye contact. “I just wanted some tips, y’know? What do guys generally like? I’ve read that some like it differently than others so…”

“Why are you asking me?”

Ah yes, the million dollar question. Why were you asking your hot ass roommate for blowjob tips? You had the choice to ask anyone: your best friend, or another friend or even a random stranger on the internet. Why him?

“You’re…experienced.” was all that you could come up with. “And not in a bad way!” You quickly correct. “ but I can assume you’ve had your good shares of…that.”

Miguel raises a brow again, swallowing thickly. Anxiety was now bubbling at the base of his stomach. You were asking him how to please a man and immediately his mind jumped at the thought of you with your valentine’s date at the end of the night. Ah, you were asking for your date.

“Well, did you just want tips or did you…” he trails off without finishing the sentence, thinking how weird it would be to finish the sentence that had popped up in his mind.

“ ‘Or did I’ what?” You repeat, tilting your head ever so innocently.

“Or did you want to practice on me?”

/

And that’s how you got here. Kneeling on the floor between the thighs of your very own roommate whom you have only known for less than a year. Was this what you were expecting when asking for advice? Of course not. But there was a sense of excitement that grew in the pit of your stomach and you weren’t going to complain about it.

“So how do I start?” You glance up at Miguel, your eyes wide with innocence and curiosity to learn. Just from the way that you looked at him, he was already beginning to get hard.

“Well, you just start.”

You roll your eyes, “Okay, doofus. So you expect me to just get into it? No foreplay or anything?”

“There’ll probably be some foreplay with your date and stuff but…we don’t have to do that.”

For a split second there’s an aura of hesitation between the two of you; him regretting his last words and you almost wanting to reject his assumption. Mutually, there’s a little voice inside of you that tempts you both to take the chance and do this properly.

But of course, this was a lesson.

A mere, innocent favor from a roommate. With no strings attached. Or feelings for that matter.

Even if it killed you both to suppress them.

You nod silently, taking mental notes. Miguel raised his hips a little to pull down his sweatpants, enough so that you could access him with ease. Now you’re starting to get nervous. Your heart was palpitating so much that you could hear your own heartbeat thump in your ears. “I-”

“If you don’t want to, we can stop.” He quips quickly, noticing your hesitation.

You pause, reflecting for the final time whether or not you wanted to do it. Once you made your decision, you glanced up at Miguel.

“It’s not like I have much time left to practice, right?”

Miguel raises a brow. After all, Valentine's day was tomorrow so you needed all the practice that you could get. “If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.” you vocalized, trying to sound more confident in this way.

“Okay, lemme just–” Miguel mumbled to himself as tugs down his boxers. You noticed the way the bottom of his shirt hiked up a little, presenting his happy trail; a dark bush of hair leading all the way down to his…

Oh.

It’s big. Bigger than you thought. And he’s not even hard yet.

Miguel seethes a little, his cock only semi-hard. He pumps himself a few times before removing his hand, leaving it up to you. His arms now rest on the back edge of the couch, widening his thighs a little more for accessibility.

‘Holy shit’, you think to yourself, how the fuck were you supposed to deal with this?

Miguel caught onto your expression, panic drawn all over your face. “We can–”

“No.” you interrupt him, reading his apprehension too. His concern for you is more than obvious. “I want to.”

Miguel chuckles a little, “I was going to suggest to take it slow but yeah, if you’re still up for it.”

You swallow thickly, edging nearer before planting your hands on his thighs. This is so alien to you. After many months of tiptoeing around him at a distance, it was scary how fast you found yourself in a position of intimacy with him.

Sure, many times before have you fantasized about what it would be like to get close to him. With the sounds of moans coming from his bedroom late at night, it wasn’t hard for you to figure out how much of a woman pleaser he was.

Slowly, your hand wraps around his cock, feeling him get harder and harder with every second that passes. You think back to the videos that you had watched previous to this, noticing that most of the women decide to give a few strokes before going in with their mouth. You imitate them easily, watching your hand move.

You take in every fine detail: every vein, every twitch, every shade leading from the tip to the base. The crown of his cock is thick, becoming redder with every stroke as juices of pre-cum subtly spilling away.

“Jus’ like that.” Miguel murmurs and you notice how his tone is a little lighter than before. “When you’re ready, you can lick the tip a little, warm yourself up to it.”

You hum in response. You can’t bring yourself to look at him, not yet at least.

Once again, you think back to the porn videos you had watched, imitating the women by tracing little circles across the tip of his dick. Miguel lets out a drawn out groan and little by little you can feel his body relax as you continue on. It tastes salty. The tip of his cock is reddened and soft.

For a minute or two you continue to trace circles, closing your eyes in the moment, allowing yourself to relax and get rid of any nerves or doubt. Miguel says nothing more, his teeth softly biting down on his lower lip, he watches as you hesitate, unsure of how to continue from here.

Miguel’s hand soon reaches for your chin, causing you to pause and tilt your head up towards him. His hand cups right under your lips and your face turns to confusion for a split second before he lets out his command.

“Spit.”

For some reason, your body listens to him without a second thought.

“It’s okay if it gets messy,” he advises, “the messier the better.”

You make a mental note of that.

You make sure to be careful with your teeth as your lips part around his cock. Once again you take it slow, letting your mouth adjust to his size. He’s bigger and thicker than you had expected, barely halfway before he already fills up your mouth. Your eyes water as you attempt to take him whole, a decision which you realize quickly was too hasty as you reach your gag reflex.

“Hey, hey, hey, don’t– mierda!” Miguel sits up a little, trying to pace you. Your eyes water and saliva continues to pool out of your mouth, dripping down to his balls. Your cheeks are full of his cock and as if following his instincts, Miguel almost wants to hold your head there. It takes all of his resilience not to place his hand at the back of your head. He let out a grunt at the warmth of your mouth, coaxing him to stay a little longer. But unfortunately if he does, then he may cum sooner rather than later.

You feel his fingers tap your shoulder, “Hey–” he manages to draw out, “brea–breathe through your nose.” You attempt to do so, just letting off a few inches of his dick, letting your hand stroke whatever you can’t take. With you, you can build up a pace more freely, bobbing your head up and down. You close your eyes, concentrating on keeping your rhythm, a steady pace for now.

Fuck it, Miguel gives into his instincts, letting a hand cup the back of your head ever so lightly.

“Fuck, keep going… you’re doing so well.”

Miguel’s praises boost your confidence, the simple phrase removing past doubts that had cast over you. You pause to allow yourself to breathe, your hand stroking his length in the meanwhile and Miguel seems to cup your chin again.

“Mírame.”

One simple order and he has you hooked and, god, you have a gorgeous view.

His dark brows are deeply furrowed. Chest rising and falling heavily, His hands are now by his side, prominent veins from his other arm lead to the back of his hand which currently grips a pillow on the couch. His eyes are beginning to droop, with his head tilted back slightly. You notice how his Adam apple bobs in his throat with every guttural hum that he makes. His mouth is just about agape enough for you to spot his pink tongue peeking out at you.

And as for him? The sight of you is more wondrous than he could ever imagine. Your eyes are also heavy-lidded. Lips plump and wet with saliva dripping down your chin. This is a side of you that he’s never seen before. Your eyes glow with submission, the innocence and inexperience peeling off of you. If you keep looking at him with that expression, he’s not particularly confident that he’ll be able to hold on for that long.

“Don’t stop looking at me, okay?”

You hum a little before your lips open wide to wrap around his cock again. Yet this time, you manage to keep eye contact. Another unrestrained grunt leaves Miguel’s mouth, his lips parting once more.

You’d say that you’re confident now, relaxed more than ever – confident enough to begin exploring. Keeping his cock in your mouth, you begin to bob your head at a rhythmic pace and at the same time a free hand reaches down to his base, lightly tracing over his balls.

A sharp inhale leaves his mouth. “You’re gonna kill me, you know that, nena?”

You hum in response, the vibration of your mouth causing a helpless moan from your roommate. You focus near the tip of his cock, returning back to tracing circles over the slit. One hand still pumps the rest of him whilst the other gently teases his balls with your fingertips.

He’s closer than you think. And you can tell by the way that his hips begin to shift a little as if he’s trying to get more of your touch. He tilts his head back, chest rising and falling at a more dramatic pace. “Shit–shit–shit-m’gonna, m’gonna cum– if– if you keep going… oh fuck!”

“Wan’ me to swallow it all?”

You’re practically teasing him at this point. Fuck, he’ll do anything, anything. And this time he doesn’t hold back in vocalizing this, the words ‘yes’ falling from his tongue, pleading, begging you to continue. “Yes, yes, don’t fucking stop.”

You decide to grant him his wishes, turning to a faster pace as you stroke his length with your hand. You can feel his cock twitching, thick veins rubbing against your palm.

“You close, mig’?” you taunt, watching as he closes his eyes in pure euphoria. He nods, inchorant words fall from his lips in a babble as his hips jerk upwards and his thighs tense around you.

Fuck, fuck, fuck m’cumming! M’gonna–”

Miguel manages to cut himself off with a deep groan, lifting his hips up as you wrap your lips around him for the last time. His cock twitches, veins pulsating as your mouth is filled with his white seed. You swallow as much as you can, trying to bear the salty taste. His cum is thick, spurting so much out you think you won’t be able to keep up. Some leaks out, dripping down his shaft. As soon as you’ve swallowed, you lap up what you missed.

“Fuck, wait, wait–”

“M’cleaning you up.” you mumble. You can tell how sensitive he is. Just from your tongue lightly licking his length so as to not waste anything, his cock twitches. Once satisfied, you pull away, your tongue licking at your bottom lip.

Apart from the sound of the now forgotten movie playing in the background and the sound of light panting coming from Miguel, there’s a silence between the both of you.

You lean back, resting on your heels as you begin to grow aware of your actions.

You’ve just sucked off your roommate. Correction. Your hot ass roommate.

Neither of you know what to say. You begin to avoid his eye contact, feeling the awkwardness creep in. Yet, it fails to fully entrap you as Miguel chooses to bite the dust and speaks first.

“For someone with a mouth that doesn’t shut up, I’m surprised you know how to use it well.” he mutters, pulling up his boxers and sweatpants.

All tension from your body begins to evaporate, a slight smile appearing on your lips.

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?” you frown, wiping off remnants of his cum mixed with your saliva from your lips with the back of your hand.

“Nothing, nothing. You were just…good for someone who hadn’t done anything like this before.”

Unlike when you were sucking him off, his praise causes heat to rise to your cheeks, your face burning up. And like a few moments ago too, you continue to avoid his eyes.

Clearing your throat, you move to stand, gesturing that you’re about to go to your room. The movie is just about over but neither you nor him were worried about that anymore.

“Any other advice that I should take?” you say.

Miguel frowns, taking a few moments to think deeply. If he’s being completely honest with himself, that orgasm has crushed him. Leaving him with nothing but thoughts of you and that sweet mouth of yours. Just thinking about it almost makes him hard again.

A part of him almost dares to tell you to forget your date tomorrow and to go out with him tomorrow. The card and flowers addressed to you, wait patiently in his room, a last-minute gift after weeks of building up the courage to ask you. All that courage is lost now though.

He’s too late.

“No.” He says, finally, going against his instincts. “Just do exactly what you did for me.”

“No complaints?”

“No complaints.” He clarifies. A deep pit of regret and hurt builds up again in his lower stomach, a feeling that he’ll have to start getting used to. He deserves it, he thinks, for not asking you sooner. He has no right to be jealous that someone else beat him to it. Not when he wasn’t dropping enough signs to prove that…

he’s falling in love with you.

Before entering your bedroom, you pause, the door leading to your bedroom slightly ajar. “Hey.”

Miguel glancing up to look at you.

“Thanks.”

Miguel says nothing more and really he should be the one thanking you for the heaven that you’ve just taken him to. He waits until he hears your bedroom door close and lock before letting out a sigh that he didn’t know he was holding in.

After he’s sure that you won’t return, Miguel pulls out his phone, tapping his screen until he reaches a certain page.

‘Are you sure you want to cancel your reservation for a ‘table for two’ on the 14th of February ?’

After a mere moment of hesitation, he confirms. His thumb clicking on ‘yes’.

part 2.

#Angel writes #unless ur a few hours ahead then…yeah #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara atsv #atsv headcanons #atsv miguel #miguel x reader #spider man: across the spider verse #miguel smut #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut

[fangswbenefits]

Appreciation

Summary: Miguel catches you staring at a very specific part of his body…

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader

That 🎂 needs more appreciation! Mildly suggestive. Innuendo. Just having some fun. Inspired by this amazing fanart!

“You’re drooling.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

You gave Jessica Drew a side-glance. “Peter, tell her I’m not drooling.”

“You’re drooling.”

Resting your chin in the palm of your hand, you heaved a sigh.

Miguel O’Hara had his back turned to you, and you just couldn’t tear your eyes from his glorious ass.

It should be illegal to wear something so tight around it, leaving nothing to the imagination.

“Do you need some tissues just in case in?” Jess leaned in with a devious smile.

You growled in annoyance drumming your fingers on the table, which was enough to catch his attention. He turned around, facing away from the orange screens floating around his platform.

“Can you pay attention?” he asked, hands on his hips and crimson eyes narrowing.

The three of you nodded instantly and you straightened in your seat, inwardly mourning the loss of visual contact with his backside.

Peter was the next one to sigh, and Miguel scowled. “It’s important we go through these procedures. The fate—”

“—of the multiverse is important,” Peter then yawned from beside you. “Yeah. We know, we know.”

You giggled and saw Miguel scowling. “Leave. Go get ready for your reconnaissance mission, then.”

Jess and Peter didn’t need to be told twice and rose to their feet, heading towards the exit.

You were about to follow suit when Miguel’s voice was heard, “Not you.

Oh?

“You stay.”

Peter turned briefly and mouthed a ‘good luck’ before exiting, the door sliding shut behind them.

But what he didn’t know was that you had just struck gold.

You cheered inwardly, barely able to contain your excitement, as you sat on the table behind you, dangling your legs playfully.

Miguel paced slowly in your direction, face as serious as usual.

When he stopped right in front of you, you parted your legs, waiting for him to settle in between, which he promptly did.

“You are so frustrating.”

“Hmm?” you rose an eyebrow playfully.

To an outsider, it might seem like he was beyond annoyed.

He always strived to look serious and intimidating.

But you knew better.

“You you were supposed to be paying attention to what I was saying,” he whispered.

“In my defense, it was staring at me first,” you rose both hands in defense. “Not my fault.”

His eyes fell to your lips. “Ah. So you were staring.”

“Your ass is magnificent, Miguel,” you said with a click of your tongue. “What do you expect me to do?”

“Be more professional.”

You scoffed. “Says the man wearing a suit so tight we can see every single line of muscle.”

He chuckled and you did the same, enjoying the sound of his carefree voice.

“Can I touch it…” you asked with a devious smile.

He answered by grabbing both of your hands and setting them on his hips. “You don’t have to ask.”

You let your fingers trail down slowly behind him, grazing the material of his digital suit. Once you moved past the generous curve of his ass, you gave each cheek a gentle squeeze.

Everything was firm and in place, and you couldn’t stop yourself from massaging him with the palms of your hands.

“Does your suit need to be this tight?” you asked.

He slid the back of his index finger from your neck to rest under your chin, tilting your head back to meet his gaze. “Aerodynamics.”

“You’re such a tease,” you mumbled.

He craned his neck to match your height. “Me?”

The pads of your fingers traced patterns along his taut muscles, and you were reminded of how lucky you were to have this all to yourself.

“I need your workout routine.”

He leaned in even closer. “I’ll show it to you, then.”

You hummed, his lips almost touching yours. “And is it hard?”

The pun didn’t go amiss and Miguel chuckled softly. “Depends on the position.”

“And then I get to have such an amazing ass?” you asked, squeezing him again with both hands.

His warm breath fanned your skin. “You do.”

You then narrowed your eyes at him. “You’re not scamming me, are you?”

Miguel’s lips grazed yours. “Scamming?”

Giving both his cheeks a few more squeezes, you straightened up.

“You sound like those shady fitness gurus from Earth-1610,” you feigned seriousness in your voice.

He surprised you by planting a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “I would never scam you.”

Then another kiss.

“What you see is what you get.”

Your fingers curled harder this time into his hard muscle, drawing his lower half closer. “That sounded so shad-”

Miguel interrupted you with a kiss, bringing both hands to cup your face, rubbing his thumbs along your cheeks.

You melted into his touch, smiling but not breaking the kiss.

He was so easy to love.

Eventually, he managed to tear himself away with a genuine teasing smile. “Was that shady?”

You patted both of his cheeks lightly, enjoying the slapping sound. “I may need more convincing.”

Masterlist

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara x you

[tojisun]

simon ghost riley x fem reader

!! smut - minors dni; extended foreplay teehee (fingering); mentioned switching

simon hums, the sound rumbling from the base of his throat. you startle, your eyes ripping open and you swivel to turn to him, forgetting, for a moment, that he's here.

that he's been watching you.

he smirks like he noticed; knowing him, he definitely did. still, it makes you self-conscious and you go to shut your legs close, hoping to shield yourself from his gaze, but simon moves so quickly, his warm palm landing on the inside of your thigh to push it down.

"no-"

"shh," he says. "y've got nothin' to be shy about, baby." he grins, all dangerous and mean. “we both know you've long crossed that bridge.”

you huff, rolling your eyes even when you let yourself be manhandled to the position he wants you in—spread open for him; presented for him.

he rumbles in pleasure, eyes darkening in rippling desire.

"c'mon, pretty, girl," simon murmurs, his fingers tickling the sensitive expanse of your inner thigh, making you tremble. "y'were just showing me how you play w'yourself when i'm not around."

the reminder makes you hiccup, shyness creeping up in slow drawls. you feel warmth filling up your cheeks and you duck down, hiding away from the intensity of his honeyed eyes.

simon chuckles. “such a doll, aren’ya?”

you ignore him and the way his words make your face burn, choosing instead to return to what you were doing—your fingers trembling as they begin to tease along your folds again. the previous sensitivity that you were riding off of has petered away but it was so easy to re-spark it, especially now that simon is touching you. the loose hold he has on your ankle makes your skin thrum and you use the hyperawareness to ramp up the flicking desire into an explosion of untethering euphoria.

your fingers aren’t enough—simon made sure, after all, that your body can only ever cum because of him—but he’s so close. he’s watching you and you take advantage of the attention.

you moan his name, a breathy little thing that rasps itself out from the base of your throat.

“si- si-!”

there is something doctored in the way you mewl, but who can blame you? yes, you’re giving him something to watch, but you’re desperate for more. you try your best to rile him up because you’re desperate for his own fingers or, and this one truly makes your breath hitch, his cock.

simon’s beautiful, beautiful cock.

god, the way it curves. the way the head is pink because simon’s so pale all over. the way his pre- beads like pretty pearls, always has you lolingl your tongue out to catch them before they drip. the way his veins surround the expanse of his girth, drawing his cock to look so macho, especially when you close your first around it.

“fuck-!”

thinking about simon’s cock makes you even wetter, slick gathering between your fingers. you punch the length of them as deep as they can go, crooking them and spreading them apart as your orgasm begins to build, pooling in your belly, making your toes curl.

“simon, please!”

your moans are more honest this time. more truthful despite the pitch that they’ve taken.

“need y’r cock. need y- no!”

you tear your eyes open—you didn’t realize you’ve even shut them tight—at the feeling of simon’s fist closing around your wrist, holding it steady, making you freeze. the peak of your orgasm crumbles, your legs trembling at the feeling of having it be ripped from you.

“no!” you cry again, thrashing. “why’d you stop me?! wanna cum, please, baby? wanna cum, please!”

“shit, lovie,” simon rasps out, looking dishevelled himself. your eyes flick down to his waist and you realize, with a coo, that he’s taken his cock out to palm himself while watching you.

you bite down a smile at the realization—you’ve won.

“y’almost made me jealous of y’r pretty fingers,” he croaks. you track the way his chest heaves, his muscles and his pecs rippling underneath the tight shirt he’s wearing. “lemme fuck you now, yeah, baby? y’want that?”

you lick your bottom lip, trilling to yourself when simon’s sharp eyes zone in on the action and tracking it with vivid intensity.

you hum then, teasing, and you shake his hold off of your wrist which simon easily acquiesces. he watches as you pull your fingers out of your cunt, slow and deliberate, before presenting them to him, the length of them having a thin sheen because of your slick.

“lick f’r me?” is what you reply to him instead.

simon full body trembles before circling your wrist for the second time today. this time, though, with a different purpose. he doesn’t break eye contact with you as he drops his jaw open to take your fingers in.

you mewl at the same time that simon groans and, you wonder, if you can last another round after this. maybe you’d bring out your strap then.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley smut #simon ghost riley #simon riley #female reader #suns

[vrisrezis]

Atsv characters realizing they’re in love with you

Gwens on the verge of tears, it’s the first time you’ve ever seen her like this in all the time you’ve known her. You’ve known gwen for almost your entire life, and never once have you ever seen her in such a state of affairs.

You suppose it’s reasonable, she lost Peter and she thinks she lost her father forever, the only other people she ever had. And then there’s you. Somebody she felt such deep emotions for even if she was unaware how deep they ran.

There’s so many emotions and so many thoughts running through her head, when she sees you for the first time in what feels like years.

You don’t say anything.

You stare at her, the state she’s in.

Your movements are slow and meticulous, calculated. And she wonders if you’re doing that because you’re cautious, because you’re scared of her.

“I don’t know what dad told you.” fear drips from her vocal cords, “but I promise you,” she’s desperate, wanting your touch so badly but fearing you truly saw her as a monster too, “I would never, ever, kill Peter.”

the building you’re both on, feels so much darker than it really is. It feels like she’s revealing herself to her dad for the first time all over again. She wants to cave in on herself but she fights every need to push you away because she needs you in her life.

“And believe me, I wanted to tell you! I did! I really did!” she tries desperately to explain, finally letting a tear slip out.

As soon as she let one go, it became a waterfall of tears.

“I love you.” she says, voice barely above a whisper, taking you both by surprise.

She realizes what she said, but she doesn’t dwell on it for much longer. Because she realizes, finally, what she said was true.

And now that she finally knows what it is she’s truly been feeling for you all these years, it hurts even more to look at you and not know what you could possibly think about her. She wishes she knew what was going through your head, she wishes she could just tell what you were feeling by searching your face but she just can’t find anything. She doesn’t know what you make of this. She doesn’t know if she’s going to lose you today.

“Please.” she feels her lips wobble, she knows she’s going to completely break down if you don’t say something, anything, in the next minute.

All she’s met with is more silence.

Miles knew he had a crush on you, sure. That simply made sense, it was common knowledge to anyone that wasn’t an idiot. Well, except you. But miles didn’t think you were an idiot, just maybe oblivious. It’s not like he minded, he was grateful that he liked the one, singular person in this very world that was oblivious enough to not catch onto Miles’s adoration for you.

Miles talked about you a lot, admittedly. His parents were naturally happy he had found an actual friend that wasn’t away, that wasn’t ganke, and that clearly made him so happy. In fact, Rio mentions how she’s never seen her son so happy to talk about somebody. She had teased him a few times, and although miles tried to deny it, both her and Jeff knew he liked you a little bit more than a friend should. Though, a little bit is a stretch. He liked you a LOT more than a friend should.

And man, when you finally met them. Ohhh boy.

Miles had tried to prevent it for so long, in fear his parents would embarrass him, even worse if they didn’t like you. But he had been delaying the inevitable long enough, and the time had finally came.

In the past, Rio had teased him about being in love. Of course, miles denied the fact. He had a crush sure, but love? That’s a lot, isn’t it?

But seeing you interact with his parents, getting along with them so well. Even with his dad?

He just can’t stop staring, and while normally Rio would be concerned, she simply walks over to her son with a knowing smile.

“I think Im in love.”

“I know, mijo”

Hobie had a rough day, to say the least. Being spiderpunk, spiderman, was tough. And as much as he complained about it, he was perfectly content with the way he went on living. Especially since it had given him the power to protect you, and fight for his beliefs.

But regardless it was sometimes a painful experience, being spiderman. The gash on his side wasn’t too huge, but was deep enough to cause him pain anytime he walked. Swinging around wasn’t much better.

He decided to swing by your place, since it was closer to him and while he hated the idea of bothering you while he was in this state, hated the idea of worrying you, he knew it was the best option if he wanted to get back to fighting as quick and as painless as possible.

He lets himself in through the window, as always. He walks over to your hunched over form at your desk, peeking over. “Biochem?” he asked aloud, and you, unbothered, simply nod. “Yknow you should really start locking the window sweets.” he says with a grin, and while you’d normally be annoyed by his remarks, you notice a strain in his voice that makes you look up at him.

You’re quick to stand up, “hobie! Jesus what happened to you!?” you said, ushering him into your bathroom so that you can get your first aid kit.

He sits down on the toilet, before shrugging. “Stuff..”

you’ve fixed him up before, but this was a little different. There was a change in your demeanor. It wasn’t out of this world for you to worry for him, but this felt vastly different this time around.

You were so kind, so gentle with him.

In his mind, he’s undeserving.

The warmth of your hands on him, was the only thing he could think about. Not even the pain of literally being stabbed could compare to how electrifying your touch felt.

Perhaps it was the blue led lighting in your bathroom or the loss of blood but, you looked so beautiful right now.

“I think I love you.” he whispers quietly, staring into your eyes.

Staring back, you can’t help but think you love this idiot too.

Pavitr is an idiot when it comes to romance, whether he likes to act like he’s good at it or not. He is not as smooth as he pretends to be. He realizes this anytime he tries to shoot his shot at you. He fumbles with his words and has to come up with some excuse as to why he needs to leave in that exact moment, immediately. Even pretending to flirt with his best friend, gayatri, doesn’t work. He does it so well with her, but when it comes to you he just cannot articulate his words. He finds himself totally lost.

It doesn’t take an idiot to figure out his feelings for you are strong, and that his feelings go deeper beyond friendship. You seem to be the only moron in all of mumbattan that hasn’t noticed, and he’s not sure if he’s grateful or in great agony.

One of the biggest reasons he was so obvious about how he liked you, was shown through how clingy he was. Physical affection is his love language, after all. But it goes beyond that, he always finds himself wanting to spend time with you. He even insists on walking you home even when his house is in the opposite direction, his excuse being that he wants you to get home safely despite being in broad daylight. It’s still a dangerous world out there, is his reasoning.

But it’s been so long since he last walked you home. When you were kids, he did it all the time. As you grew older, the tradition seemed to stick but as he became spiderman this occurrence became less frequent. It’s been months since he’s been able to do this.

The sun is bright, but it hits your face perfectly. And he can’t help but think you look like some ethereal god. Given his line of work, he doesn’t think it would be that weird if you were one.

He feels like he can’t breathe, and he doesn’t even realize its cause he’s way too focused on you, every little feature. Your hair, eyes, your nose, cheeks, mouth. Anything he could possibly look at on your face, he’s looking. He’s not listening to a word you’re saying, he watches your lips move but he cannot catch a damn thing. The grip he has on his bookbag becomes tighter, his face feels hot and he wants to say it’s because of the sun but he knows that’s not true. God, has your laugh always been so pleasant to the human ears? Or was that just him?

His lips move, before he even has a chance to stop the words from coming out, like word vomit.

“God I love you”

#pavitr x reader #pavitr prabhakar x reader #miles morales x y/n #miles morales x you #miles morales x reader #gwen stacy x reader #gwen x reader #spiderwoman x reader #spidergwen x reader #spiderman india x reader #spiderman x y/n #spiderman x reader #spiderman x oc #spiderpunk x reader #hobie x reader #hobie x y/n #hobie brown x reader #atsv x y/n #atsv x you #atsv x reader

[ptergwen]

starks daughter reader x peter parker, making out? like the avengers ask jarvis to show what’s happening in her room and they see what’s happening?

ask box  |  taglist  |  blurb masterlist  |  main masterlist

w/c: 719

warnings: 18+, explicit language, implied smut

a/n: i made one little change so it’s friday instead of jarvis but everything else is the same so i hope you don’t mind and that you enjoy! also don’t forget to join my new taglist y’all mwah

“y/n…”

you’re kissing down peter’s neck, lips leaving goosebumps on his skin. he’s practically writhing underneath you, and you’ve hardly even done anything.

yet.

“y/n, baby.”

you grip the collar of peter’s shirt in both hands and bring your lips to the shell of his ear.

“yes, peter?”

“c’mon, we can’t. we’re… we’re gonna be late for dinner.”

“wouldn’t you rather eat me instead?”

your teeth sink into peter’s earlobe, a hand traveling down to the bottom of his shirt. peter throws his head back and closes his eyes, trying to resist you, but he can’t. you’re his weakness.

“fuck, y/n/n. don’t do this to me.”

“what, is there something else you want me to do to you?”

you start to pull peter’s shirt over his head, but he grabs both your hands in one of his.

“we’ve gotta go join the others. you know how important team dinners are to your dad.”

“and you know how much i despise them.”

“yeah, but i don’t understand why. i think they’re a sweet idea.”

“i think they suck.”

“how come?”

“steve makes the blandest food, thor has literally zero table manners, and everyone’s always asking me questions. way too many questions.”

“you mean trying to get to know you?”

“it’s the fucking worst.”

peter chuckles and pulls you in by your waist.

“you really are a stark.”

“am i? because the leader of the pack came up with this whole team dinner thing.”

“your dad just wants everyone to spend more time together.”

“well, i just wanna spend time with you.”

you peck peter’s lips. peter smiles and secures his arms around your waist.

“at least wanda’s cooking tonight. means the food will actually have some flavor.”

“yippee.”

peter lets out a breath.

“i’d be more than happy to eat you for dessert, but dinner first, okay?”

“or i could be your appetizer.”

your lips attack peter’s before he can respond. despite himself, he gives in this time, kissing back with just as much fervor.

-

“what’s taking them so long? the chicken paprikash is almost done.”

“looks delish, wanda. i’ve never had sokovian food before.”

“oh, thank you, scott. you’ll love it.”

“sure, sure. i bet i will. i just, y’know… it won’t be spicy, will it?”

sam elbows bucky’s arm.

“dude thinks paprika is spicy.”

“and i thought i was bad.”

scott frowns.

“what? it’s a spice, isn’t it?”

tony enters the dining room with a grin, rubbing his hands together.

“hey, gang. smells good in here, little red.”

“thanks, tony. i’m just about ready to serve it. we’re waiting on the kids.”

“oh? they’re still not down yet?”

“nope,” bruce sighs. “i saw them sneaking up to y/n’s room earlier,” natasha smirks. “dang, you didn’t have to rat them out,” sam remarks.

“like you wouldn’t do the same.”

“fair.”

“stop teasing, you two,” steve chastises. “no, no. this is true. i passed little stark and the spiderling on the stairs,” thor says.

tony glares at thor.

“so you all knew they were canoodling, and no one thought to tell me?”

“uh oh, drama,” scott whispers to wanda. “canoodling?” natasha snorts.

steve shoots them both looks.

“i’m sure they’re on their way down, tony.”

“yeah? let’s find out.”

tony double taps his glasses. his artificial intelligence comes to life.

“friday, show me y/n.”

“on it, boss.”

friday taps into her system that’s installed in your room and broadcasts the feed to tony’s glasses. he immediately regrets asking her to do so when he sees what you’re up to. yours and peter’s tongues are quite literally down each other’s throats, and peter is trying to take your bra off, but struggling to unhook it.

tony rips off his glasses and tosses them onto the dining room table. he shudders, shaking his head to rid his mind of the image. natasha puts on tony’s glasses to see for herself.

“yup. they’re canoodling, alright.”

“for real? this i’ve gotta see.”

“wait your turn, wilson.”

tony snatches his glasses back from natasha.

“absolutely not. no one will be taking turns watching my daughter and parker swap spit. have some class, will you?”

“yeah, have some class!” thor chimes in through a mouthful of bread wanda had put on the table.

wanda joins everyone with a serving plate of food.

“chicken paprikash, anyone?”

tags: @mystic-writings @just-lost-inbetween-worlds @lnmp89 @jenoslov @crvshnburnn @yourlocalomlette @starlight-starks @belovasheart @liltimmyst @eviewriites @hollandsangel @parkerctrl @eichenhouseproperty @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @varshhyy @ellebutnotwoods @magicalxdaydream @tayyx

#peter parker #peter parker smut #peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker x avenger!reader #peter parker writing #peter parker imagine #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland x you #marvel #mcu #tom holland writing

[poetskings]

@jegulus-microfic | april 5: slap | 1.1k words

James watches on as Regulus plays a card game, surrounded by the family that they have created.

James leans against the doorframe, sipping on a lukewarm cider as he watches Regulus, who’s sitting cross legged in the centre of their living room. He’s in one of James’ old sweaters, the sleeves rolled up to stop them from covering his hands.

James is so in love with him.

Regulus glows, sat surrounded by the people that they love. This is a home that they have created for each other, with each other.

In his hands are two cards, and he watches Remus and Pandora carefully. James knows that he has a +4 and a reverse left, and James is almost certain that he’s going to win.

Remus places down a yellow +2, smirking as Sirius hooks his head over his partner’s shoulder.

Pandora only giggles, placing down another +2, leaving Regulus to slap his +4 down, screaming ‘uno’ before anyone else can place their cards.

He is delighted, his legs uncrossing as he rocks back gently.

“You prick,” Sirius calls, having taken Remus’ side as his partner begrudgingly picks up his ten new cards, grumbling good-naturedly about it.

“Sorry your boyfriend’s a loser, Siri,” Regulus taunts back. He is looser than normal, a glass of wine in his hands that he’s been sipping from intermittently, but he’s not drunk. He’s just comfortable.

Sirius scowls at his brother as Remus plays a green 3, Pandora laying a green 7 and allowing Regulus to place his green Reverse down, declaring him the winner.

There are cheers released from Regulus and his corner, with Mary and Evan having decided early on that Regulus was going to win. James thinks he can see money changing hands between Peter and Marlene, but that’s between them.

Barty and Lily join him, the smell of smoke clinging to their clothes. They’ve come in from the fire escape, James thinks.

“Odd to see you hanging around at the edges of a party,” Barty comments, but James knows he doesn’t mean anything by it.

“Reg is enjoying himself. Didn’t want to interrupt.” James shrugs his shoulders, acting nonchalant.

“You’re good for him, you know?” That makes James pause. Barty’s been hesitant to show James anything other than casual apathy since the pair started dating. “He has people who love him, and that hasn’t changed, but I think you make him aware that it’s okay to accept that love. He’s been in Sirius’ shadow for as long as I’ve known him, and he’s always felt like he’s second choice, but you give him space to be himself. You’ve shown him that he doesn’t have to be Sirius to be loved.”

A distressed noise claws its way out of James’ throat, and Barty pats him on the back before stealing his cider and moving to reclaim a seat near Evan. Lily moves to take his place at James’ side.

“Barty’s right, James. But I also think he’s good for you, too. If he weren’t here you’d be forcing yourself into the centre of the room, even if you needed a break. He lets you switch off, and he doesn’t expect anything from you. I think we take you for granted, sometimes, but he doesn’t.” She turns her head to focus back on the group, and James follows her gaze.

Regulus is looking back at them, mouthing ‘you okay?’ to James. He nods his head in response, but Regulus stands up anyway, heading over to the pair.

“Hey, Lily, I think Pandora needs someone to commiserate with her after her frankly embarrassing Uno performance,” Regulus says, gently teasing his best friend’s failure.

The trio looks over to Pandora, where she’s reading the lines on Sirius’ palm, the two gossiping intently with their heads close together as Remus overlooks the pair, a fond smile on his face. “Oh, she looks positively devastated,” Lily jokes, but heads over to her girlfriend nonetheless. “Look after James, Reg,” she calls over her shoulder.

Regulus takes James’ hand, moving him out of the front room and back through the kitchen, leaving his wine on the side before crawling out the window to take a seat in the fire escape.

James has no choice but to follow him. Wherever Regulus goes, James will always follow.

“Congrats on winning Uno – a truly impressive performance,” James comments, a smirk falling over his face.

Regulus sniggers as he draws two cigarettes out of the pocket of his jacket. “I hope Mary made a killing. Peter should’ve known better than to bet on Remus – he’s useless at card games.”

Wordlessly, Regulus hands a cigarette over to James, cupping a hand around it as he lights it before turning his attention to his own.

The pair smoke in silence. They don’t need words. They never have.

“I love you, Jamie.” Regulus is stubbing his cigarette out as he says this, but it doesn’t dampen the significance of the moment.

Those words are always significant to James. Regulus is sparing with them; hesitant to express his emotions with words. It’s okay; he shows James that he loves him in a million other ways, but sometimes James needs to hear it.

This is one of those times, and Regulus knows. Regulus always knows.

James doesn’t say anything back; doesn’t have to.

He stubs his cigarette out, leaning over to kiss his boyfriend. It’s soft, tender. Regulus tastes of smoke and red wine, and James loves him.

Regulus pulls back, resting his forehead against James’ before pressing a soft kiss to his lips, to his cheek, to his forehead. “Let’s go back inside.”

James registers the goose bumps that have appeared on his arm, and he nods.

The couple head back in to rejoin their friends. The living room has a warm glow to it, filled with life and laughter and so much love.

“Welcome back, you two,” Remus comments, dropping down from the sofa where he’d taken up residence to sit beside Sirius.

“I hope neither of you were doing anything untoward.” Sirius looks over at them, an eyebrow raising. Regulus only raises an eyebrow in return.

“Piss off, Siri, everyone knows that if anyone’s going to do anything untoward on a fire escape it’s you and Remus,” Regulus bites at his brother, but there’s no real anger in it.

Peter releases a bark of laughter as Sirius buries his face in Remus’ chest. Regulus has won this round.

James draws his boyfriend across the living room, to the sofa that Remus has just evacuated, and the pair curl up together. It’s instinctual, as easy as breathing. Regulus fits himself to James and James fits himself to Regulus. They are two parts of the same whole; two parts of the same soul.

James rests his chin on Regulus’ shoulder and looks out at his friends, at his family.

Regulus is in his arms and he is home.

#jegulus #regulus black #james potter #starchaser #marauders #marauders era #sunseeker #jegulus microfic #dead gay wizards #si writes

[dilf-lover99]

And I Love Her | J.P.

Pairing: James Potter x Female Reader

Summary: The 3 times James tries to get the girl and the 1 time he finally does. Or In which James Potter is hopelessly in love with his best friend.

Warnings: so. much. pining., idiots to lovers, miscommunication(s), a dash of angst, some heavy kissing, james potter being the literal definition of boyfriendism

Word Count: 4.8k

a/n: hi ! james potter won the poll and i am so completely okay with it. i really intended for this to be angst but he's just SO boyfriend. this may be my favorite thing i've ever written and i really hope you enjoy it too ! p.s. i missed u guys lots and i'm so grateful you've stuck around after months of crickets from me. love u love u love u<3

(y/n).

Depending on who you asked, it was only a name. The name of a classmate, or a friend, or yourself, but only a name nonetheless.

Unless you asked James Potter.

It wasn’t only a name. Not to him. To James, it was everything.

Because it was your name.

Your name that hastened his heartbeat with every mention.

Your name that sent a salient stream of blood rushing to his cheeks, tinting them a lucent shade of scarlet.

Your name that, once mentioned, seemed to follow him everywhere, as though the wind itself would begin whispering it, rustling alongside the branches of the whomping willow tree before floating its way over to his ears, sounding sweeter than any melody he’d ever heard before.

To state it simply, James Potter was irrevocably, inconceivably, in love with you.

But saying it that way didn’t seem like enough.

He didn’t just love you with his heart, for his heart could stop beating. And he didn’t only love you with his mind, for his memories could fail him one day. James Potter loved you with the entirety of his soul, with every fibre making up his being. Of that, he was certain.

What he wasn’t certain of however, was how to bare his infatuated soul to you.

After all, how exactly does one tell his best friend he’s besotted with her?

He tried the gentle approach first. 

The train back to Hogwarts was filling up quickly. Stories of his peers’ summer holidays flow obstreperously through the air as James’ eyes remain glued to the door of him and his friends’ usual compartment.

“Ease off it with the evil eye, Prongs. She’ll be here.” Sirius’ teasing voice breaks James away from his thoughts, which were unsurprisingly fixated on you.

He doesn’t bother denying it, well aware he’s been staring daggers at the door since he stepped foot off platform 9 ¾, anxiously awaiting your appearance after spending the entire summer holiday apart from you.

“Leave him be, Pads. He misses her.” Remus interjects kindly, not lifting his eyes from the well-worn pages of whichever book he’s decided to burrow his attention into for the ride back to Hogwarts.

“Well he can join the bloody club then, can’t he?” Sirius starts, intent on ignoring Remus’ suggestion, “I’ve just about fallen for her myself after spending my entire holiday listening to this git recite his bloody sonnets for her,” he continues with a not-so flattering mimicry of a lovesick James, “It is the east! And (y/n) is the sun. O Romeo!” He throws himself dramatically to the floor on his knees, clasping his hands above his heart.

Peter watches the spectacle with a grin, covering up his chuckle with a cough after James sends him a look of warning. Before James can defend himself against Sirius’ melodrama, the door to their compartment slides open, revealing a beautiful and slightly out of breath you.

And suddenly you’re not the only one who’s out of breath.

You’ve gotten even prettier over the summer, somehow. If somebody had asked James before, if he thought you could possibly have gotten any more beautiful, he’d’ve laughed in their face, telling them tales of how your beauty could put Aphrodite to shame. But now? Now his heart was beating so violently in his chest he was almost certain it was attempting to escape, trying to take its rightful place upon your sleeve.

“Sorry I’m late, I nearly broke my neck out there!” You stop briefly to catch your breath, the jog on your way over winding you more than you’d care to admit. “Someone ought to tell those first-years there’s enough seats on here for the lot of us. I’ve just been walloped by a bloody eleven year old! Cheeky little-” You cease your rambling amidst your confusion at the sight before you, Sirius on his knees at James’ feet.

“Have I interrupted something? Perhaps a proposal of sorts?” You jest, your amusement growing at the wide eyed look on James’ face as he scrambles to stand, coming to greet you properly with a hug that doesn’t last nearly as long as you wish it would.

“No!” He protests instantly, amidst wrapping you in the soft embrace.

“Cor, I’ve missed you.” He mumbles after pulling away, leaving a hand on your back as he gently guides you to your seat beside him, hesitant to do so, as once you’re sat he’ll no longer have an excuse to touch you.

“I missed you more!” Your enthusiasm brings him optimism, there’s a chance she means it the way you do, he thinks, there’s a chance-

“And what of me?” Sirius and his bloody interjections. James has half a mind to lock him out of the ruddy compartment and leave him to fend for himself amongst the overzealous first-years.

“I’m sorry, have we met?” You feign confusion, though not very well, James can see the brilliant smile forming leisurely upon your lips. What I would do to those lips, his thoughts are running rampant after a summer spent away from your presence, too caught up to hear the jokes you and Sirius are trading back and forth, and that laugh! His internal monologue continues, ’s like a proper bloody song. Just ask her, right now. If she says no you can play it off as a joke. It might sting a bit, but surely it’d be better than keeping it all locked away.

“Will you go to Hogsmeade with me? Just us two? We’ll have a lovely time, I swear it.”

He knows what he was hoping you’d say, something along the lines of ‘Yes, James, I’d love to!’ but he wasn’t expecting it.

He also wasn’t expecting your given response.

“That’s a wonderful idea, Jamie, thank you! D’you see that, Sirius? A helpful suggestion. You ought to try one of those sometime.” You’re back to chatting with Sirius and Remus as Peter leans over to James, whispering an explanation to his visibly confused friend.

James had caught you mid-complaint about how you’d forgotten to bring the dittany leaves you need to make the special healing chocolates you gift Remus after a particularly bad full moon. After Sirius’ not-so-helpful suggestion to try substituting them with pot leaves, you gladly welcomed the chance to pop over to Hogsmeade with James and buy some more.

You’d mistaken his date proposal for a shopping trip.

Marvellous.

This is going to be the year that James tells you how he feels. He’ll make sure of it.

If for no other reason than this was your seventh and final year at Hogwarts together. His stomach churned at the mere idea of allowing you to slip through his fingers for good; you acting as the coarse sand to his adamant hourglass. He wouldn’t have it.

So he’d try again.

In the few weeks since you’ve returned to Hogwarts, your time’s been consumed by studying for your N.E.W.T.s. You’re also determined to acquire a spot in the internship programme at St. Mungo’s. The sheer amount of time you’ve spent there with your boys over the last few years has more than prepared you for a future as a healer if you end up enjoying the work.

“Alright, who was the first witch to extract floo powder?” James has spent the last hour and a half quizzing you on all matters Herbology, if it were anyone else he’d’ve been bored to slumber by now. But it wasn’t anyone else, it was you.

The two of you were sat outside together on a blanket, taking full advantage of the uncharacteristically sunny day. James is leaned comfortably back against a tree as you sit across from him, simultaneously taking notes and answering each of his questions without pause.

“Ignatia Wildsmith. Ravenclaw. Come ‘ead James, I’ve told you to stop going easy on me! Every seventh-year applying will know all of these.” Bloody lucky I love her so much, James thinks to himself, I thought that was a hard one.

He’d like to laugh your nerves away, crack a few jokes and tell you that you may be going a bit overboard. You’re going to get the internship, and not just because you’re brilliant and perfectly qualified, but also because your Herbology professor had written a glowing recommendation letter singing your praises.

But he can’t find it in himself to mess around when you’ve got that adorable little wrinkle between your eyebrows displaying your worry, and your lips have turned down into a delectably kissable pout. It takes nearly everything in him not to brush it away with his own lips. 

“(y/n),” He starts, wetting his lips with his tongue as he desperately attempts to keep his thoughts from overtaking his voice, “It’s going to be alright, I promise. You’re more than ready for this. Why don’t we try taking a little break?” His heart feels as though it’s leapt into his throat when you glance at him and send a delicate smile of gratitude.

“I’m sorry, Jamie. We’ve been at this for hours, you must be exhausted of me by now.” You smile, more cheerful this time as you realize a break is precisely what you need.

James can’t contain the laugh that escapes him.

Exhausted? Of you? 

The absurdity of thinking he could ever grow tired of you was an inherently laughable concept to him.

He’s nearly clutching his stomach when he finally manages to compose himself, making heart-stopping eye contact with his equally amused and puzzled best friend.

“Are you mad?” James’ dimpled smile sets a kaleidoscope of butterflies aflutter in your stomach, “I’d spend all my hours with you if I could.” He means it with every atom that makes up his being, he’s meant it for years but now he’s actually saying it to you.

Your smile grows wider with each word he speaks, your own thoughts matching the underlying sentiment of his articulation more than he could ever know.

“I-” He pauses, inhaling deeply and squeezing his eyes shut tightly in an effort to maintain his courage, “I love you.” You did it, he thinks to himself proudly, you actually bloody did it, Prongs! He exhales shakily, reinitiating eye contact with you as a small smile begins to blossom on his tender lips.

“James,” Your voice holds an underlying tone of sadness that causes an adorable crinkle of confusion to settle between James’ eyebrows, “I love you too.” You smile tightly, almost as though it’s causing you discomfort to do so.

“You do?” James is more perplexed now than he had been when you’d explained to him in painstaking detail the intricate relationships between each member of Fleetwood Mac the first time the two of you listened to Rumours together.

“Of course I do,” Your smile stretches intimately, the somber quality of your voice never wavering, “You’re my best mate, after all.”

Best mate? James thinks, is that really all she sees?

Had he not been so caught up in his own racing thoughts, he may have picked up on yours. He may have realized that his situation was holding a gargantuan mirror up to your own, casting a perfect reflection of the feelings within.

Best mates, you internally chastise yourself, that’s all he sees.

A proper bloody mirror.

“It was completely humiliating, Pads. She might as well’ve called me her bloody brother.” James has been yammering on about what happened that day for the past three weeks. Three weeks. Sirius is going positively mad, somehow having become James’ sounding board to rehash his complaints every time he remembers the encounter.

“I mean, how am I supposed to tell the girl I’d like to spend the rest of my life with her now?” James is pacing back and forth agitatedly at the foot of Sirius’ bed, as the aforementioned boy lays back uninterestedly, wishing his duvet would come to life and swallow him whole in an effort to escape the worlds most redundant conversation.

“She’d probably tell you that sounds lovely. Make you her future child’s godparent.” Sirius jokes dryly.

James abandons his invisible footpath, a wave of panic comically widening his warm hazel eyes substantially.

“She what?”

“For Merlin’s sake, Prongs! I can’t take any more of this,” Sirius sits up agitatedly, now far beyond his capacity for James’ lovesick commentaries, “Just go tell her. Right now.”

“Are you mad? Have you not just heard everything I’ve said?” James would normally find humour in Sirius’ lackadaisical attitude, but confessing his feelings for you was an entirely serious matter with no margin for error.

“Oh I’ve heard it, Prongs. For the past three weeks. And the entire bloody summer. And every single year before that.” He moves to stand in front of James, his agitation fading into sincerity, “I know how you feel, Prongs. But does she?” James swallows thickly as Sirius continues, “I don’t mean just telling her you love her, I mean telling her how you love her. As more than a friend. Maybe she feels the same way.”

James takes his time considering Sirius’ words. He’s tried to tell you, clearly, but he assumed that you’d only seen him as a friend. But what if you hadn’t? What if Sirius is right, and you told him you loved him as a friend because you’d assumed that’s what he’d meant when he said it?

“I’m a proper git, aren’t I?” James concludes aloud.

“Most certainly, Prongsy. It’s why I keep you around,” Sirius’ playful mood returns swiftly, “Makes me feel better about myself.” 

You’re talking softly with Remus in the library, voices low enough not to disrupt your peers but just detectable enough for James to catch your words when he finds you, internally preparing his declaration of unwavering devotion for you.

“You’re not going out with him, are you?” Remus’ hushed voice holds a curious tone.

“Of course not, Rem.” You smile softly, “Could you honestly imagine that? Him and I dating?”

James’ eyebrows furrow together in confusion, he presses himself slightly against a nearby bookshelf in an attempt to hear your conversation more clearly.

“No, I guess not,” Remus chuckles faintly, “It would certainly make things awkward if they didn’t work out. Being friends and all.” 

“No kidding.” You chuckle good-naturedly. 

James feels like a bag of cement has been poured down his throat, constricting his lungs and settling into a block of concrete in the pit of his stomach.

Sirius had been wrong. You didn’t love James as more than a friend, in fact, you’d practically laughed at the thought of it. In his hasty escape from the scene of the melancholic crime, James neglected to hear the rest of your conversation with Remus.

“He’s a lovely lad, truly,” You smile genuinely, “Any girl would be lucky to call Amos Diggory her boyfriend. We’re just better as friends is all.” You trail off, leaving out the part where your heart already belongs to another shared friend of yours and Remus’.

It’s not like it was ever going to happen anyway. Your love for James Potter was entirely unreciprocated.

Wasn’t it?

James is avoiding you.

As painful as it is to spend each never-ending moment of spare time away from you, James can only think of how much more agonizing it would be to spend those moments with you.

To fix his loving gaze on your sparkling eyes, only to find them filled with affections one would hold only for a friend.

To accomplish the feat of bringing a luminous smile to your delicate lips, only to remember those lips would never brush tenderly against his own.

To be so close to the girl he loves, only to be denied her heart in equal measure.

It’s easier, in a sense, to push you away.

It’s only temporary, just until he can stomach the thought of spending the rest of his life as your best mate and nothing more.

But it’s been weeks, and the idea still makes his head feel like it’s underwater, like he’s fighting to reach the surface but his leg’s been caught on a viciously determined blade of seaweed.

Still, he’s convinced himself that this is his best course of action.

Unbeknownst to James, however, you’ve been going stark raving mad.

You’ve hardly spoken to him in weeks. When you think about it, you’ve barely even seen him, save for a few quick glimpses in your classes and across the dining tables in the Great Hall.

You’ve tried to talk to him, clearly something is bothering him. Maybe you’ve said or done something to upset him without realizing it. But he’d brushed you off before you could even get out the words ‘are you alright?’

You’d asked Remus, Sirius, and Peter about it, each of them giving you vague semblances of justification that fell entirely flat, a few “He’s just busy with quidditch”s and a couple of “Must be studying today”s. You’ve grown tired of the excuses and you’re determined to get to the bottom of it yourself.

You’re leaning picturesquely against the wall outside of the lad’s changing room when James finally sees you again. His curly hair is spilling droplets of water from the shower he’s just taken, successfully washing away the evidence of his quidditch practice.

You’re beautiful. That’s all he can think as he finally allows himself to take you in fully for the first time in weeks. He feels like he’s been holding his breath since he saw you last and now he can finally exhale, a sense of euphoria filling his chest as his lungs deflate mercifully.

“Hi.” You state gently, a delicate smile painted daintily across your lips.

“Hi.” James echoes once he’s relearned the inhale-exhale repetition of breathing again.

“I waited for you,” You start after a brief silence, “Which- You can see that, obviously.” You chuckle a ebullient breath that causes a small smile to form on James’ face, Merlin, I’ve missed that, he thinks as you continue. “I just, um- I thought maybe we could talk?” You’re fiddling with your fingers, a nervous habit of yours that James has long since memorized by now.

He instantly reaches for your hands, tenderly taking one in his own and carefully intertwining your fingers together with his. The action is like second nature, he hardly thinks twice about it.

You smile visibly at the act of comfort, if he’s upset with you and that’s the reason he’s been avoiding you, it makes your heart skip a beat that he’s putting it all aside to calm you down when you’re anxious.

“About what?” He tries, though you both know that’s not going to work.

“Nice,” You smile teasingly, “Want to give it a real go this time?”

James swallows something akin to a lump in his throat, averting his resplendent hazel gaze from your eyes to land somewhere along the floor as he overthinks which approach he should take.

He could try honesty. Yes, he thinks, because that would go over proper well. I’m avoiding you cause I’ve been gutted since I heard you’re not in love with me. Surely she’ll find that real mature, Prongs.

He could also try lying his arse off. And that would work, he sarcastically chastises silently, Me? Oh nothing’s wrong at all. Just tired, y’know? Practice and homework and the like. As if she’s ever believed a lie you’ve told her before.

He finally chances resuming eye contact with you, heartbeat hastening expeditiously as his hazel orbs lock onto your patently awaiting eyes. You should be looking far more frustrated, James wouldn’t blame you if you were. You have every right to be upset, and yet you’re not.

Instead, you’re you. 

You, who’s calmly awaiting a response, fingers still gently intertwined with James’. 

You, who’s looking at him with soft, sparkling eyes, eyes that are silently promising him no matter what he says, everything is going to be alright.

You, the girl he loves more than anything in the world.

“You.” He states after an implicit eternity.

“Me?” Your features mix together to create a perfectly darling display of confusion that, even despite the circumstances, causes a modest smile to tug upwards at the corners of James’ mouth.

“I’ve been avoiding you.” He conveys, sounding as though he’s just revealed to you a hidden secret you’d’ve never otherwise been able to uncover.

You can’t contain the short laugh that escapes you, a smile taking its rightful place on your face. “Yeah, ‘m not exactly Sherlock Holmes, but I managed to put that one together.”

James can’t subdue the traces of guilt that seep onto his face.

“I was hoping maybe we could talk about why. If I’ve done something to upset you-”

“No!” James cuts you off, “No, love, you haven’t done anything. Nothing you could control anyway.” His voice is less than half of its usual volume at the last sentence he utters.

Your face is back to holding that adorably confused expression that James so desperately yearns to kiss away.

“I have to admit, Jamie, I’ve got no idea what you’re on about.”

James sighs, finally releasing the hand that’s been holding comfortably on to your own and running it through his leisurely drying hair. He releases a sigh of distress and squeezes his eyes shut firmly in an attempt to figure out the best way to explain himself.

“If you’re not upset with me, then why have you been avoiding me?” You’re trying to put it together on your own as James is proving to be no help, “Wait a mo! Is this some kind of prank or something?” You smile, though you’re not entirely certain you’re correct yet, “Are you trying to get back at me for dying your knickers pink? Because that was an accident!” 

James can’t help but smile at your incorrect deduction. Merlin she’s adorable he thinks, how am I supposed to tell her now?

“Yes!” James concludes untruthfully, “You got me. Just a prank. Might’ve gone a bit too far with it though. Sorry ‘bout that, love.”

He brings you into a hug and, after going weeks without it, it feels like home.

You feel like home.

You’re hugging James, after having just gone weeks without it. And you just know. 

You have to tell him.

You have to tell him, right now, that you’re in love with him.

And so you do.

“I love you.” You state breathlessly, pulling away from the warm solace of his embrace and looking bravely into his glimmering hazel eyes.

James nods his head mechanically, as if he’s agreeing to your suggestion on what to have for dinner and not taking in the confession of eternal love you’ve just spouted.

“Yes, I love you too,” He smiles a tight, strained smile, “Mate.” He punctuates his final word by bumping his fist gently into your shoulder.

Oh, you think, I’m going to have to spell it out for him, aren’t I?

“No, James. I love you,” You take a step closer to him, not breaking eye contact despite the nerves that are jostling around your insides like a violent sea in a raging storm, taking a deep breath before exhaling somewhat expeditiously, you continue, “Like- Like, I’m in love with you.”

The first thing James feels in that moment are his eyes widening emphatically behind his round-rimmed glasses, his dark lashes making direct contact with the top of his eyelids. He’s certain he must have heard you wrong, that or he’s understood you wrong.

The second thing he feels is hope. What if he hadn’t understood you wrong?

The third thing he feels is his heart, beating faster than it ever has before, so fast he thinks it might be ready to do him in for good. Surely a heart shouldn’t be beating that fast.

“You’re in love? With me?” James speaks disbelievingly, though he’s unable to hide the traces of optimism he’s feeling as a modest smile begins to form on his face.

You nod your head assuredly, a genial smile of your own starting at the sight of his, “Yes, I’m in love with you. Madly, in fact.”

You’ve spent months, years even, deliberating on how you would tell James, if you would tell James. You’d spent countless hours wondering how he would react and what would happen after all was said and done.

You’d planned to tell him all about that. About how long you’ve felt this way, when it started and why it’s taken you so long to tell him, how you were too afraid of risking your best friend should anything have gone wrong.

What you hadn’t planned on was what happened the second you got the last word out.

James eagerly presses his plush lips onto your own, savouring the long overdue sensation of your mouth against his. He tenderly brushes your bottom lip with his tongue once he feels you respond to the kiss with equal fervour. Enthusiastically, you grant his tongue access into your mouth, pulling him closer to you by the roots of his damp hair.

James lets out a low groan at the contact, pulling you flush against his body by your waist, his hands hungrily gripping onto you for dear life as, somehow, the kiss deepens even further.

When the need for oxygen outweighs your mutual need for each others lips, you reluctantly part the slightest of distances, foreheads resting tenderly against one another.

“I’m in love you too. So bloody madly.” James whispers contentedly with a lovesick grin. 

You’re each donning smiles brighter than you can ever recall before.

The moment you’ve caught your breath you’re back at it again in full force, gripping at each others clothes and tangling nimble fingers through the other’s hair. James pulls back when your beaming smile makes it a little harder for him to kiss you, returning a smile just as wide that compels you to pull him back in for another kiss, or two, or three.

When the two of you finally feel satiated enough, James pulls back again, a noticeably farther distance. He’s still smiling but it isn’t quite as bright as it was a moment ago.

“What was all that about in the library, then? With Moony?” He asks you the question that’s been clawing at his insides for the last few weeks.

You pause, visibly confused as you shuffle through the files of your memories until you land on one a few weeks ago with Remus in the library. The two of you were discussing a friend who’d asked you on a date. You’d declined as politely as you could, valuing his friendship but knowing your heart had long since been beating for James.

“What about it?” You smile confusedly.

“Well, you were talking about me, weren’t you?” James looks down to the floor, expression now almost devoid of the happiness that had previously overtaken every inch of his face.

“What?” You laugh briefly before it registers, not just his words, but the reason he’s been avoiding you for the last few weeks.

“Wait- James!” You tilt your head into his line of vision, gently cradling his face with your hand as you turn his head to face you fully, “Is that why you’ve been avoiding me? You thought.. Oh, Merlin.”

You pull him into a hug, holding him tight enough to convey just how wrong he’s been.

“I was talking about Amos Diggory.” You state with a gentle exhale, something between a laugh and a sigh, pulling back you rest your arms at your sides. “He asked me to dinner.”

James doesn’t hide the relief that courses through his body, despite the slight scoff of jealousy he lets out at your final sentence.

“But,” You wrap your arms back around him in reassurance, looking up into his eyes that are once again sparkling with happiness, “I’ve been a tad busy, being in love with my best friend and all. So I told him no. Obviously.”

“Right, obviously.” James replies with a cheeky smile that makes your heart skip a beat.

“You’re a git, you know.” You roll your eyes, the action a mixture of lovesickness and frustration. “You could’ve just asked me then. Instead of hiding in the books like a proper stalker. And then avoiding me. For weeks,” You’re smiling, but you know you’re still getting your point across, “You git.” You punctuate your final word with a gentle swat to James’ chest, smiling adoringly when he grabs that hand and brings it up to his lips, placing a tender kiss to it before dropping your intertwined hands back at your side.

“I know,” He admits apologetically, “I’m sorry.” He’s smiling breathtakingly, “Still love me?”

You can’t find it in yourself to be upset with him, because in some roundabout way, it’s what led you to this moment right now, where you can reach over and kiss him if you want to.

And you want to. 

Pulling him into you by the fabric of his shirt, you plant another kiss upon James’ lips. The passion and tenderness in the kiss meld together just as perfectly as your lips do.

“Yes.” You mumble happily when your mouths finally break apart. “Always.”

#james potter #james potter x reader #james x reader #james potter x you #james potter x y/n #james potter x female reader #james potter x fem!reader #james potter fluff #harry potter #marauders imagine #marauders #marauders x reader #hogwarts #aaron taylor johnson #james potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #marauders fanfiction #hogwarts x reader #james potter imagine #marauders era #james fleamont potter #harry potter imagine #x reader #x reader fluff #x reader imagine #x reader insert #my stuff

[bellatrixscurls]

two ghosts | part 1

pov : lily rejects james many times, until he finally gives up. but y/n and sirius are there for him, in more ways than one.

warnings : smut (next part), mentions of ex!bully!james, fluff (it probably sucks cus i only know how to write smut), sub jamie if you squint, pet names, established relationship between reader and sirius. please lmk if there are more! <3

part two

“I’m telling you, sweetheart. It’s nothing your pretty cunt can’t fix” Sirius winks at you, shoving a piece of bread in his mouth, causing you to roll your eyes. He obviously notices, as he is sat across from you, and smirks.

Remus is eyeing you both suspiciously, and clears his throat. “I can think of more situations you,” he looks at you and you blush slightly in embarrassment, “cannot fix. So what is it now?”

Sirius giggles like a little kid, and you shake your head, your cheeks way too red by now. “I think Prongs needs some.. relief. Poor thing is so crabby these days, and it’s all because of that stupid mudblood.”

“Sirius!” you shriek, kicking his foot under the table. “Okay, alright! I was just looking for something bad to say about her.”

Remus rolls his eyes and Peter places his fork down, blue eyes wide as he stares at you, clearly interested. “What do you mean by relief? I mean, he’s been refusing to tell me what’s wrong and yes, he is acting a bit strange, but I can’t think of anything that could help him. Unless you want to get him a date with Evans, which is not an option.”

Peter’s speech leaves all of you speechless. You’ve looked at the situation as more of a joke, not realising how sweet Jamie turned to grumpy, fussy James. “I mean, not that I would want to get him a date with that one” Sirius scoffs, his hands raising in surrender as you and Remus glare at him.

“And why would that be, Sirius?” you find it’s your turn to tease him, to which he scoffs again, giving you an wide-eyed look when he spots James approaching the ton of you.

His head is a mess of curls that bounce furiously as he walks messily, his eyes are bigger than usual and his face seems to scream ‘I’m tired!’. His clothes, surprisingly, are not wrinkled. Well, it’s a surprise to anyone but you, cus you are the one who prepared them for him the night before.

“Morning” his voice is thick with sleep, barely gazing at you as he wraps an arm around your shoulders, squeezing you into his side only for a few seconds. “Thank you for taking care of me” he says softly, obviously referring to his robe, shirt and trousers.

Your eyebrows shoot up, clearly surprised by the little gesture, and the guys seem to be as surprised, if not more than you are. “No bother, Jamie.”

The atmosphere in the common room is tense, and you all can sense it. Even James.

“You can talk to me, you know” he scoffs, slightly annoyed as he looks up for merely a second, eyeing Sirius, and his face somehow softens.

Sirius looks at him sadly. “We are worried about you, we don’t want you to lose yourself just because some red-headed chick doesn’t want you.”

And then, you all know that he screwed up.

James stands up abruptly, and looks down at Sirius, his usually gentle blue eyes now a few shades darker. “She’s not- You don’t know what it feels like, Sirius” he calls him by his first name, not Pads, and not Siri, and you can see Sirius’ face soften and his bottom lip jutting out just slightly. “You’ve found Y/n a long time ago, and even before you didn’t have a problem with girls ever refusing you. You don’t know how it feels.”

You all fall silent, your hand coming up to gently rub at his back, his head leaning into your neck as he nuzzles against your skin. “We just want our Jamie back, honey. I promise you so many other people in this school want you for you.”

“You promise?” he looks at you with those doe eyes that always make you melt.

“I do. And maybe it’s best that you didn’t get with Lily, who knows what would’ve happened. I promise there is someone there for you.”

By the end of your speech, you can only hear James hum softly as you continue to rub his back. A few minutes pass by, and Remus whispers to you, letting you know that James is sleeping. And so you sit more comfortably against the sofa, allowing yourself to rest for a little bit as well.

♥︎

Shifting pulls you from your deep slumber only a few hours later, and you find your arms empty, no trace of James anywhere. You sigh softly as you move to stand up, taking the blanket, that you were not aware was there, with you.

“Sweetheart, you’re awake” Sirius beams when you stand up, and you almost have a heart attack when you hear his voice, being pulled away from your thoughts.

You turn to look at him, lazily dragging yourself and finally throwing yourself into his arms, the boy taking that as a sign to sit down, with you still in his arms. “I missed you” you smile into his chest, engulfed by his intoxicating scent. He smells like he always does, but to you, it’s much more than that.

“Me too, sweetheart” he kisses your forehead, his eyes closing and so do yours.

But little do you know, James is watching the two of you the entire time, and his heart drops and swells at the same time. He wants that, but he is glad that his best friends have it.

♥︎

The next day, you walk with Sirius, hand in hand, towards your Herbology class. He is telling you about his new partner in partner in Potions when you spot James leaning against the wall, talking to Lily.

“Siri, he’s doing it again” you pout, looking up at your boyfriend as he looks in their direction, his eyes darkening at the sight.

“Oh fuck” he swears under his breath, and you frown. “I can’t hear him cry for the entire night again, breaks my heart” he gulps and you brush your hand against his cheek gently, making him look st you.

“Maybe it won’t be that bad. Maybe he is okay now” you try to reason with him and he seems to soften for a moment, not long though, cus James is messily walking away from Lily, his eyes red and lips puffy. You look back at him, his eyes not once leaving yours as he walks away, heading towards the Gryffindor Tower.

“Yeah, he seems pretty content” Sirius scoffs to himself, running one of his hands through his hair as the other holds your waist.

“Bring him to my dorm” you tell him, your eyes widening before you continue. “I- I mean, both of you. We can take care of him, make sure he doesn’t feel alone and maybe forgets what happened for the night.”

Sirius looks at you like you are his Moon, the one who always brightens his path when it gets dark. I mean, he’s told you that before.

“You are a genius!”

♥︎

After classes, you went to find James, but found him in the worst situation you thought possible.

He is with Lily. Meanwhile the red-head is reading her book on the sofa, James is knelt in front of her, gently tugging at her delicate arm, but she pays him no mind. “Lily, I just- please, just a date, just one” he whispers softly, not wanting to disturb her more than he already does.

She rolls her eyes, and sighs. “James, I don’t know how many times to tell you that I’m not interested” she says sadly, and you can see his bottom lip quivering. “I don’t.. you were mean to my friends, James. Mean to me. For a very long time, and even though it was long before you liked me, I can’t” she finally confesses, cupping his cheek with her palm.

Your eyes widen and so do James’.

He lets out a soft ‘oh’ and quickly wipes his tears, baby blue eyes blinking in shock. He didn’t know.

“Oh okay... Okay then, that’s fine” he nods frantically, slowly standing up from his knees and brushing his hands over his robe. “I’m sorry, Lily” you see him pout slightly before he practically runs away.

You wait until Lily stands up and finally follow James upstairs, not wanting to make it seen like you were eavesdropping. You were, but.

Knocking gently on the door, you are met with a muffled and small ‘yes?’

“Jamie, it’s Y/n” you lean your head against the door, your eyes closing as you listen to the shuffling in the room.

Moments later, he opens the door and your shoulders drop when you see his state. He hasn’t been himself for weeks now, but he has never looked this way until now. He looks a mess, and his bed is the same.

“Darling” you frown slightly, not touching him because you don’t know if that’s okay yet. “D’you wanna go to my dorm? You can stay with me tonight, Siri will be there too.”

You try to soothe him, explaining that you will listen to him as much as he needs, but when he hears ‘your dorm’ and ‘Siri’, his ears perk up and he starts nodding fervently, grabbing his blanket and shutting the door behind him.

You give him a small smile before you guide him to your dorm, where your boyfriend is waiting for you. He probably doesn’t expect you to manage to get James to come, so his eyes widen a little bit when he sees him, but he clears his throat and stands up from your couch, greeting you. Sirius’ arms snake around your waist as he gives you a sweet peck on the lips, before he moves to James.

The bespectacled boy’s back is glued to the door, sitting there timidly as he tries not to look at you both, but he fails miserably. “Hi there, Prongsie” Sirius teases him and James smiles a genuine smile, his eyes closing as Sirius brings him into his arms, the long-haired’s boy scent just as intoxicating as it is to you.

“Do you want to talk to us, babe? Tell us what happened?” you quip as you take James’ hand in yours and you usher him to sit on your perfectly made bed, the sheets soft beneath him.

He looks up at you, then at Sirius, and sighs softly. “I used to be a bully” he confesses, as if it is a secret, “And ‘s why she doesn’t like me... Lily.”

Sirius’ grimace is more than present on his face. He remembers those times, up until third year, when he met you. You’ve changed him, and them, for that matter. James has always been a sweet boy, but he used to think that he was superior to the others. Not now, though.

“That was way too long ago, though. We were kids” Sirius whispers defeatedly, he knows that’s not an excuse.

“I was terrible” James says and a sob catches in his throat. Your heart almost breaks and then you understand what Sirius meant when he said that James crying made his own heart break. “I regret that, I don’t want to ever do that again.”

You pout, inching your hand closer to his as you slowly caress it, your eyes moving from him to your boyfriend. “It’s been age, Jamie” Sirius speaks softly, “you have changed, that’s not you anymore. Sure, you cannot erase your past, but you cannot let it define you either. That’s. not. you.”

James looks up at him with hope, and Sirius grins widely. “Look at you, you are the sweetest boy I’ve ever met. So pretty as well” Sirius’ tatted hand cups James’ soft, pale cheek and the younger boy melts against his skin. “Yeah?” he breathes, batting his eyelashes at Sirius, who nods proudly.

But when Sirius notices that James’ hand is moving up his thigh, he removes his hand from his hand from his cheek and stands up, walking towards a smaller chest of drawers, where you keep his clean clothes for when he comes over.

James’ breath hitches and tears start pooling at his eyes. He tries to be quiet, but you are still beside him and hear it. “What is it, sweet boy?” you ask, frowning.

He just shakes his head, burying his face into your soft pillow. “M sorry” he sobs, his tears most definitely soaking your pillow.

“Sorry?” you ask and he hums, still not looking at you. “Tried to touch Siri” he admits, “you have.. you’ve just been so good to me, I-”

“Oh, love, I’m not upset with you. I mean, who wouldn’t want to touch Siri?” you joke and he giggles softly, lifting his head from the pillow.

“Okay I’m back and I got you my shirt and this pair of boxers, I hope they fit you- Hey, why are you crying?”

─

next part will probably be just a little bit of fluff and smut, but i thought i’d share this little thought with you guys. i will write the other fic ideas soon, please bear with me <3.

#harry potter x reader #james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #harry potter fluff #harry potter angst #sirius black imagine #james potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction

[hurtspideyparker]

Thinking about restless spirit Tony Stark who just can't move on to the after life.

The first thing he does once he realizes he's an apparition is check on Pepper and Morgan. True to their word, they're okay. He watches them for a bit but feels this deep unrest pulling him away from the quaint home he yearns for.

There's a deep wrongness within him, some unfinished business that draws him back to New York.

He fears for a moment that it's Peter- but no, it can't be him. He'll be in Massachusetts right now, attending MIT as a freshman. There isn't a doubt in Tony's mind that his little genius is already making his mark.

Still, he follows the pull of his spirit to some dingy Queens' apartment he's never been to before.

It's deep in the night yet the apartment is empty. He looks around a bit, his body phasing through anything he attempts to touch.

It's small and dirty. There's old coffee cups on the desk, alongside a couple GED manuals. Great, the universe thinks he has unfinished business with some broke high school dropout.

He's pondering how he must have screwed up this kid's life; was it the Avengers, Stark Industries? Maybe his old playboy lifestyle is finally coming to bite him in the ass.

His contemplation is cut short by the sound of the window cracking open.

It strikes Tony for a moment that maybe he's stuck on Earth to be a guardian angel, Iron Man living on as some invisible protector against whatever creep is sneaking into people's windows. It doesn't make much sense considering the whole non-corporeal thing, but he still stiffens like he's ready for a fight.

He sees a man- no, a thing? A creature maybe, or an alien. Even in death Tony can't escape being one of Earth's mightiest heroes.

The creature is shrouded in darkness, something slick and bald crawling inside the room with terrifying grace and silence. It shuts the window with a soft kssssh as the seal is formed.

And then it pulls off its mask.

There, with the click of a table lamp, glows the face of Peter Parker.

He's definitely older now; sturdier shoulders, a rugged set of his jaw, hair tamed to something semi-professional. Still present, though, are those gentle brown eyes.

Nothing makes sense right now. Why is his kid here, in this apartment? Surely May wouldn't allow this. How many tenant laws does this place break? Where are his little sidekick friends? And on what planet would Peter Parker ever need a GED?

Tony's getting angry now, watching Peter move around the tiny space. He changes out of his costume and into pajamas. That spider suit isn't Tony's suit, it looks like cheap craft store fabric.

The kid opens a small freezer and pulls out the singular bag of peas that reside in there, pressing it against his ribs while he goes to pop some bread into a toaster.

Tony takes note of every glimpse he gains into Peter's life. Empty cabinets when he reaches for a jar of peanut butter. A fridge housing nothing but condiments and energy drinks when he goes to grab jam. A drawer with two spoons, no forks, and a paring knife which he pulls out and sticks into the strawberry jam jar just as the toast pops.

This is all so wrong.

Tony's outrage is coming to a rolling boil. Peter deserves the world- he was gonna give him the world. He couldn't wait to send Peter to MIT and show him off as his protégé. Tony was gonna fund his projects, tease him about pretty girls, maybe even see him step back from Spider-Man and act like a normal college kid. He wanted to see him flourish and grow up. It was all he could think about when Peter turned to dust between his fingers; he should be goofing off with his friends at a mathletes meeting, or building Legos, not fighting an intergalactic war.

Tony couldn't even conceive how much went wrong to end up here.

Alone. Broke. No school. He didn't even have his Stark suit to protect him. Everything that made him him has been stripped, leaving him in this shallow box with scuffed paint and hollow cabinets.

Tony can feel the violent rage burn deep in his spirit as he thinks about it.

This is why he's here. He can't let his boy live like this, wasting his potential to be some villain's punching bag. Where is everyone? Does no one care enough to stop this? The fury that builds in Tony is dangerous, wondering why a dead man is the only one who cares about the teen's life right now.

Without thinking Tony's hand reaches for the GED textbook, a mocking piece of work that laughs in his face, and throws it at the stupid little kitchenette that's mere feet from the bed.

It sails across the room with surprising speed before it's met with a thunk against Peter's palm, hand reaching out to catch it from the air before it collided with the toaster.

Oh.

Peter sets the book down and immediately picks up his web shooters, eyes darting furiously to every corner of the tiny apartment.

"Who's there?"

Tony steps a little closer but Peter's eyes just look right past him.

"C'mon Pete, c'mon. I'm here, I'm right here."

Tony looks for something else to grab. He swats at a hopefully empty coffee cup on the wooden desk, but his hand just passes right through it.

"Shit," the hope Tony felt waivers slightly and he tries again.

Nothing.

Peter is searching his apartment now, making sure the window is secure and feeling around every crevice, bookshelves, under the bed, in the top corners of the room. Searching for something nefarious, tech maybe.

Tony hits the cup, again and again, frustration building up and up and up till-

The cup flies across the room, Tony and Peter's eyes track its movements as it bounces against the ground and rolls to a stop.

"Shit," Peter breathes out.

Tony walks up to Peter now, standing before him.

"Figure it out. Think kid, you've met aliens, gods, magicians, surely ghosts aren't too far fetched."

Peter closes his eyes. His posture straightens, Tony watches him take a deep breath in as the hairs on his bare arms stand on end.

Peter's eyes blink open, and they're looking directly at Tony.

Tony smirks, "that's it."

Peter turns around and picks the cup off the ground, running to his desk with it and ripping a piece of lined paper out of a notebook and scribbling furiously on it.

Tony walks over as Peter places the cup in the center of the paper.

On the left is the word YES in bold print, NO on the right.

"Okay, okay okay. So, move the cup if, if you wanna talk. Um, is there someone in the room right now?"

Tony reaches for the cup, an intense glare as his fingertips graze it gently. It shifts minutely towards the YES.

"Shit! Shit. Sorry, whew. Okay. Are you friendly?"

Tony moves it to YES again.

"Are you a, um. Person? Like not an alien?"

YES.

"Are you wearing tech, invisibility suit or your molecules are uncalibrated or maybe it's a portal thing like, multiverse shit is happening again, a mirror universe! Oh, maybe a..."

Tony let's a frustrated sign. The kid is too practical, logical. He needs to think like a non-genius.

"... could be. Or, or maybe you're just a ghost-"

Tony perks up and immediately swats the cup, causing it to fly off the desk towards the YES.

"Oh. Oh that's... kinda normal. Or maybe really weird? I mean... I certainly have some ghosts in my past."

Peter picks the cup up and puts it back on the desk.

"Do I know you?"

YES.

"You said you were friendly, and I'm not getting any danger tingles from you. I'm gonna start with people I know are dead, cuz I just really hope you're not a... new ghost. Um. M-May?"

The boy's voice cracks on the word and Tony freezes. May is dead? Tony starts to fear that things are a lot more wrong than he previously thought.

Peter's breath catches and Tony realizes he's waiting, dying for an answer, and quickly pokes the cup towards NO.

Peter's shoulders sag.

"Uncle Ben?"

NO.

"T- Mr. Stark?"

Tony grins, "now we're getting somewhere!"

YES.

Tony is going to have his work cut out for him, but being here with Peter just feels right.

Peter breaks out into a matching smile.

"Wow, okay. I think I'm gonna need more paper," he says as the boy gets to work making a more complex system than YES and NO.

Tony watches on proudly, reminiscing about all the great Peter was and all the great he still is, despite his situation. Whatever this is, they'll figure it out.

Together.

#peter parker #tony stark #irondad and spiderson #spider man #iron man #marvel mcu #post no way home #peter parker angst

[angelltheninth]

Endurance Test

Pairing: Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, blowjob, edging, cock riding, begging, cock tease, licking, dirty talk, cum shot, sub!Peter Parker, dom!Reader

Word count: 0.7k

Kinktober Day 6: Orgasm Denial

Ao3

A/N: I've really been looking forward to this kinktober fic. Peter is always so cute I just want to tease him and make him squirm.

Peter struggled to keep his hips from jerking upwards, his hands fisting the sheets so tight he almost teared them apart. But what could he do? You didn't restrain him but you still told him not to touch you. Which made it even more difficult for him.

"Easy. Don't twitch too much sweetheart." You mumble against the leaking tip of his cock, your hands fondling his full balls, massaging and squeezing, "You don't want me to choke do you?" You wink just before you take his cock in your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks to make the sucking easier.

"God. No, no but I- Please." He whines, low and almost teary eyed from frustration, "I don't think I can hold it for much longer."

You release his cock with a wet pop, moving your hand up and down, slowly from the bottom and then rolling your palm over the tip, making sure to spread his cum nicely. "Not yet. Just a little longer. Then you can give me every last drop." You make sure to look at him in the eye as your tongue darts out to lick the dripping bead cum flowing down Peter's hard length.

He bites his bottom lip, making it tremble upon release as another needy whimper escapes him.

"Poor thing. You're so hard. It must hurt a lot huh. How about I kiss it better for you." You trail hot, slow, deliberate kisses up and down his dick, making it throb even more when you give him a long lick from his balls all the way to the tip.

"I need to be inside you. I'm feel like I'm gonna explode." Peter pulls at the sheets, his hands needing something to tug, something to hold onto.

"I fully expect you to. And you've been a very good boy for me Peter. I should reward you now shouldn't I?" You run your fingers between your legs, briefly inserting one finger in, letting out a long moan. "Hear that? That's how wet I am for you. Let me show you."

You move and straddle his hips, spreading your lips with your fingers and rubbing his hard, aching cock between your wet pussy lips.

"Think you're ready for me? Hm?" You roll your hips against his cock, making another drop of cum drip onto his abs. He can't even form words anymore, he just nods his head quickly and whimpers out your name.

With a brief kiss on his lips you position yourself on top of him, nudging your opening with the tip once, twice, before you fully sink down on him without warming.

"Oh fuck!" Peter throws his head back, his hands leaving the sheets for your thighs, keeping your pinned against him, your hips fully against him. "You're so warm inside. Feels like my cock's gonna melt. God. Move. Move. Please. I need to come. I need-"

"Soon love, soon." You squeeze your cunt around him, focusing on his tip as you begin to move your hips ups and down, sinking all the way down each time. "Come when I tell you to. All of it. Make sure you give me all of it. Ready darling? Are you ready to give me all you've got?"

"Yes, yes. Anything. Everything. Please met me come. Please!" He starts to babble, his whole body shaking then snapping like a web thread once you nod his way. His hips start driving into you at full force, his cock shooting warm jets of cum deep inside your pussyhole, painting your insides white with his seed.

You're not far behind, especially when he looks so adorable and sexy underneath you. You start milking him with your cunt, intent on getting all of his cum.

"Holy shit." Peter throws his arm over his eyes, his chest rising and falling quickly along with yours. You need to brace yourself on his shoulder to stop yourself from falling over him. "That was intense."

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself." You lean down to give him another kiss, longer than the last one, brushing your tongue against his. "It feels nice to let go of responsibility and control once in a while huh?"

Peter licks his lips and takes a deep breath, "I wouldn't mind doing it more often."

"I was really hoping you'd say that. Try to last even longer next time hm?" You clench around him again, getting another spurt of cum from him in return.

"No promises." He smiles up at you as he pulls you down and moves his head so you can rest on his shoulder comfortably, "But I'll try anything for you baby."

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[webslingingslasher]

i always imagine peter’s hair as fluffy but yk how when it’s wet it curls. imagine seeing nerdy peter’s hair wet/curly for the first time

i picture he has fluffy curly hair?? it’s much more curly when it’s wet but they’re not as defined when dry.

but (and this is projecting) i love me some curls. so obv, reader does too.

---

‘oh my god!’

peter jumps, you have a finger pointed behind him. ‘oh my god!’ he starts to spin around, ‘what? what is it?’

you can’t form words, all you can think of is ‘oh my god?!’ peter whines out for you, he doesn’t know what’s freaking you out. ‘c'mon, help me out, you’re scaring me.’

peter assumes he has a spider on him, he doesn’t know how he can’t sense it, but your quick calls for him to come closer makes him guess you’re about to swipe him clean.

until your hands dig into his hair, peter shakes you off before stepping back. 'hey, c'mon now. i just washed it.' he did. he also tried to style it, but nothing could hide those coils.

'curls.' your hands have a mind of their own but peter dodges the attack. a pout covers your face, 'curls?'

'i'm saddened to know you've been blind up to this point, but very happy you finally noticed them.' he's having fun with it, you're not. you never get to see them like this.

'peter!' your grabby hands don't do anything, it makes you feel slightly grumpy. all you wanted to do was fawn over the baby curls kissing his ears.

'fine, you have dumb hair. and stupid curls. and... it's too long.'

peter raises an eyebrow, his arms cross over his chest. 'oh really?' you're being challenged, you can't back down. an unconfident head nod was your response.

'thank god you said something, cause i thought you liked it long, but now i know i can cut it off and you won't mind.' you chew on your bottom lip while staring at the brunette.

'how short?' because there's some room to work around, you can handle a summer chop. your boyfriend shrugs, 'more than a buzzcut.'

the words hit you like a crowbar to the knees, you have to back down. you can't lose his curls, you can't. 'no! please no! i love your hair and your curls and it's not long enough!'

peter hits you with a sympathetic pout, 'oh? so, not dumb and stupid?' your feet lightly stomp the ground, 'they're extra curly today, c'mon, please?'

even if he's walking closer, he's still teasing you. 'it's insane how much power my hair has over you.' you light up, you can almost feel the soft pleats over your fingertips.

'yeah, yeah, yeah. can i have?' peter blocks your hands one more time, you're about to scream. 'you know they're mine, right?'

'sure. yeah, if that's what you need to believe.' peter tilts backwards when you reach out, you hate to be that person, but...

'i swear to fucking god, peter, if you ever want to see me naked again, you better let me grab 'em.' in under a millisecond you have your fingers twisted around his hair, a satisfied smile spreads. 'pretty curls.' 

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