oh man look at that smile

anonymous asked:

you think when Alfie is still with the nappy but he can talk when he pee or poo he calls Harry like ""daddy change!" or something like that for Harry to change his nappy?

Oh, my goodness, yes. Harry’s getting himself dressed after his post-gym shower, standing in the middle of the bedroom with a grey t-shirt in his hand and a pair of baggy shorts on his legs, hanging down to his mid-thighs, with his son sat on the floor. "Daddy, poo.” Alfie mumbles, looking up at him with a toothless grin on his lips, as Harry looks back down to him, a smile on his face as he slips the t-shirt over his head. “Did you poo, little man?” “Yeah! Daddy, change!” “Alright, Bugger. Let’s go get you into something fresh and then we can have some dinner.” xx

things I love about Steve Trevor
  • He makes sure he actually thanks Diana for pulling him out of the water
  • The only time he ever expresses doubt to Diana about any of her beliefs is when he’s trying to convince her not to jeopardize the mission by killing Ludendorff, and even then it’s a hypothetical (“what if”)
    • He also does after she kills Ludendorff but that’s after her belief is shattered so I don’t really count it
  • He is so duty-bound I love him so much no wonder he and Diana got along so well
  • He just. Wants the people around him to be happy? The scene after they rescue Veld always kills me, and two parts in particular: 
    • When Charlie starts playing piano and singing and Steve says “I haven’t heard him sing in years…” and his face is all soft and you can see the shadow of a smile tugging at his lips but you can also see all the sadness in his eyes from those years of him not singing
    • And when he’s dancing with Diana and it starts to snow and she looks up and is so confused and delighted and he’s like “it’s snow… go on, touch it” and she does (also she has to let go of his hand to do it and he still encourages her to? such a small thing but oh man my heart) and he looks at her with such heart eyes
    • Honestly Chris Pine played him so well, so much complex emotion depicted even when he’s not speaking, like jfc well done
  • I love the boat scene, partly because it’s just fucking hilarious but mostly because their conversation is so respectful. She tells him she was sculpted from clay and brought to life by the breath of Zeus and his reaction is just to raise his eyebrows and say “Well, that’s neat.” 
    • I know that could read as sarcastic but it doesn’t to me at all. It’s funny, sure, but he isn’t making fun of her. It’s genuine and kind, even when what she’s saying is fairly unbelievable.
    • Just the entire way they speak in this scene… He never adopts that Mansplaining Tone™ that is so common, even when he’s actually explaining things. He talks because he wants to share information. It’s a cultural exchange, and I loved it.
  • After Veld, when they’re sitting and watching the villagers dance, he just quietly says, “You did this.” and she’s the one who smiles at him and says, “We did this.” He has so much respect for her and it kills me inside because it’s not “We did this” originally (which could be him pointing out that they’re a good team, him saying they have things in common, or a thousand other things), it’s just “You did this,” because he just wants her happy. He wants her to recognize how goddamn impressive she is. There is no agenda to what he said and it fucks me up
  • The entire scene with the kiss. Like, I’m gay as hell, usually I hate this kind of thing because it feels so unnecessary, but this was so well done I’m genuinely glad it was included
    • When he escorts her up to a room he then starts to leave. Even with all of that tension he doesn’t want to assume that she wants anything to happen. 
    • So he has his hand on the door and he starts to back out of the room and he hesitates just long enough for her to turn around and meet his gaze. And even then he’s reading that as a sign that she wants him in the room so he steps forward and closes the door behind her and then looks up again to confirm that’s what she wanted. And even after that, he crosses over to her so slowly and lets her be the one to actually initiate the kiss. 
    • He gives her a thousand and one chances to change her mind, to give him a small indication that she’s uncomfortable or doesn’t want it to happen, and it’s only once she lets all of those chances pass that they kiss. 
    • Consent-based relationships, man. Fuck me up.
  • Speaking of consent… the scene after Diana returns to Veld and sees the gas has killed everyone fucks me up
    • Steve’s followed her there and is clearly freaked the fuck out because she’s just gone and he physically can’t go in to try to find her because of the gas
    • So when she comes out he’s so visibly relieved and he goes forward and puts his hands around her face, clearly wanting to kiss her, and she shoves him away and says “stay away from me.” and he does.
    • He lets her be furious and devastated and overwhelmed because he knows what it’s like to feel powerless and I think he is genuinely sorry he contributed to her feeling this much pain. He lets her say she’s angry, he lets her blame him, he lets her grieve and doesn’t stop her when she leaves him there.
    • Not only does he not stop her, he sees the smoke from Chief’s fire and yells to her to follow it because he had followed Ludendorff. Their argument from the ballroom still isn’t resolved - she wants to just kill him and be done with it, Steve wants that to wait so they can focus on stopping the gas - but he recognizes that this is her choice and even after she’s basically just blamed an entire village’s deaths on him (and on herself) he tries to help her carry it out.
  • So after Diana’s killed Ludendorff and the war is still going on and Steve runs up to find her, he’s so visibly relieved that she’s alive and (like after Veld) goes to kiss her but backs away without her doing anything because he realizes the “stay away from me” thing has never been explicitly lifted. She might still want nothing to do with him and he respects that.
    • He does touch her a couple times after this but it’s always brief, I think it continues only because she didn’t react negatively the first time, and like they’re in the middle of a fucking war and I think Steve’s about 900% convinced that they’re all going to die so I’m gonna cut him a little slack here.
  • They have that “argument” again, where Diana says “this should have stopped, I killed him, why is this still going on” and instead of saying I told you so Steve just tries to get her to move on and help him save other people.
    • When he says “maybe it’s us! maybe we’re to blame!” (meaning not Ares) and she says that (obviously) she isn’t to blame, he doesn’t hesitate, he just says “but maybe I am.” He’s willing to put that on himself. Also, the qualifier through this scene - but maybe it’s us - is so important to me, because he’s still not saying “you’re wrong.” it’s a maybe.
    • When she refuses to go with him he’s clearly frustrated (again I’m giving him a pass here because he’s frustrated because he knows he won’t be able to save as many people without her) but he still doesn’t try to force her to go with him. He doesn’t guilt-trip her, doesn’t yell at her for not helping. He just gives that desperate shrug and says “I have to go. I’m sorry, I have to go.”
    • And when Charlie and Sam and Chief show up and ask where Diana is, all he says is “we’re on our own.” Not “she wouldn’t fucking help us” - which frankly is probably what I would have said in this situation - just that statement and nothing more.
  • In their final scene, when she’s hurt and dazed and temporarily hard of hearing, he breaks his “no touching” rule, but he breaks it because he’s helping her stand up and then because, well… even if she doesn’t, he knows he’s never going to see her again. 
    • It’s also super important to me that he doesn’t try to kiss her in this scene, because god knows he must have wanted to. He sees that she is in no shape to consent to anything like that and he doesn’t even come close to pushing it.
    • I’m not even gonna get into the “I can save today” part because I’m still too emotionally fraught
    • He says is “I wish we had more time.” before he tells her he loves her and literally runs to his death. That’s it. Nothing that could possibly make her feel guilty, nothing that could have seemed like he regretted anything. Not “I wish we hadn’t gone to the front.” Just “I wish we had more time.”
    • And he then, metaphorically and literally, gives her more time. Because he knows his clock has run out, but that doesn’t mean hers has to… So he runs and saves today and gives her his watch. Gives her time.
  • Anyway I’m seventeen thousand levels of fucked up from this movie, please feel free to add because Steve is amazing and a genuinely good, complex, respectful male character like this should be celebrated

“make the princess speak and you will have the crown of kings.”

my knees hurt, as usual, from scrubbing. technically i’m too high of Maid Station to help out with these things, but i like seeing what happens when you clean. the development of things. how a lot of effort can make something. i like learning and trying and working hard to get towards something.

and i’ve seen them, from the back of pillars, from behind cracked doors, from beside her (on the best days) the way they talk to her. oh beautiful won’t you just look at me. oh darling. if you speak i’ll be your prince. if you speak i’ll be your king. 

the princess, i know, finds the lines of suitors boring. it’s in the way her hands are always moving. she hides yawns, leaves early, we make her apologies. once, a man comes and tries to startle her into screaming. she rolls her eyes and looks directly at me. i have to hide my smile behind my sleeve. he is taken away while still screaming.

by accident, i find her once, crying. when we imagine princesses, they always cry daintily. hers is hoarse, angry, and something in it breaks me. in my station i should apologize and bow and leave. instead i am frozen, watching her shoulders heaving.

she looks up and spots me, her cheeks ruddy. i know i should go but instead i make a big show. i act as one of her princes. i make grand gestures and speak in deep voices. i frantically offer her handkerchiefs and trip over my own two feet. a smile crawls up over her, slowly. i dab my sweat away and offer her the used rag. i feign a fluster, turn a terrible cartwheel, make shadow puppets. the sound of her laugh, raw and rusty, sends shivers through me.

for a while, i do not see her after this. but then i am called to her chambers. she is crying again. i offer silly gifts, pebbles and dusting rags and a candlestick from her own kitchen, pretend to steal it, use it as a hat, rock it as a babe. she laughs more easily this time, gladly, and when she laughs i am taken by more important maids, thereby officially Excused.

it goes like this for months. the winter comes. i rarely see her. i spend my week thinking about ways to please her. i knick interesting cookies, show her shiny buttons, learn to cartwheel in a full skirt, and then promptly how to make it look foolish again. i learn how to juggle hot bread and dance as a man would, i learn how to balance on a ball and how to fall down without hurting myself, how to fake a fight with my own body, which colors she likes and which don’t please her.

i show up on a cold eve with a knotted line of scarves hidden down my sleeve, worried and breathless, wondering why she’s been crying. the door opens and she is sitting there, happy. at first i’m confused, but she waves me in. next to her is her small dessert, in two containers. i’m not sure how to respond, so i fake a fall to hear her laugh, and then sit at her feet. she gives me ice cream - so rare a treat. i know what went into making it - the hours of shaking. it’s smooth and tasty. i don’t feign my reaction, but she laughs anyway, kindly. 

it goes like this. i see her more frequently. she likes giving me new things, watching me discover i hate kiwi and love oranges and would die if it made her laugh breathlessly. i’ve made her keel over with cackling and she’s put a fire in me. sometimes we just sit there, quietly, enjoying each other’s company. 

it’s in her hands, always moving. little things i thought were just her, fidgeting. here’s how she says she’s thirsty, this is what her hands do when she needs a second to think, here’s how she shows she’s happy. this is how i learn to speak back to her. around her i spend much of my time smiling. i feel every visit is a gift. a new part to unravel. i find out she doesn’t respond to spoken things, that she needs to be looking in order to know you were speaking. sometimes she has me talk and she holds her hands to the base of my throat, her eyes wide and wondering. sometimes she just looks at me and i forget that i’m her jester in chief. i get caught up in her eyes, in how expressive they are when she’s happy, in how when she’s sad i feel like i’m drowning.

i never see the king or queen, but i know when she’s had a visit with them, because she never comes back happy. two winters i have known her, two winters and now we dine frequently. i am often called to stand beside her, to whisper translations of her desires into the ears of someone more important than i, someone who gets to be the voice of royalty. i can’t decide if i’m her friend or her plaything, but i don’t know i care much of the distinction. every moment i’m near her is a moment free of friction. i take stock of suitors and curtsy to them in daylight only to mock them in the candle’s eye later.

she asks me one night to stay. it has been a bad day. it’s completely not okay. i cannot say no but i cannot, by my station, stay. but she begs with her eyes and her hands and i know i’ll take the punishment. 

we lie beside each other. i make sure to turn to her when i speak. in the dark she can’t see me, so i move my hands in the way i’m learning. she asks if i am ever lonely. i cannot tell her that i am always lonely without her beside me, so instead i say i think all people are very lonely and just are pretending. she laughs a little at that and says she thinks her parents are the two most lonely people that ever met. her mother was like her; broke a fairy curse and talked, just once, although nobody knows what she said. well, excepting her father, who was the only one around, and who won her hand in marriage.

from her mother she learned the art of hands, of speaking without words - from her father she learned that who she was included a curse. that she just wanted someone who would make her open like a rose - someone who could fix her. how she stared out into the royal garden and wished on flowers to be what her kingdom needs.

she fell asleep pressed against me. i couldn’t breathe. i was still awake in the morning. 

the punishment never came. we spent nights like this. the handmaidens had grown to know me. whenever their princess was stubborn, i worked magic and made her lovely.

it was a terrible thing. i did too good a job, i think. the princess glowed too much or shone too brightly - or at least, i saw it that way, so who knows what the truth is. every day it felt like we were being rushed with princes. 

her father’s temper at hosting failed. it was the day before her twenty-first birthday and first time i’d ever seen him. he stormed in at the end of the session. “just speak!” he said, “it’s not that hard! do for others what your mother did!” 

“tomorrow is your last day of this,” he warned her, “either you pick a prince or i pick for you. i’m done with it.”

he stormed off. she was left shellshocked and trembling. that night she didn’t ask me to come, but i waited outside, just in case she changed her mind. i understood why she needed space. either she’d speak and be married tomorrow or she’d be married shortly. i heard her crying and it took everything in my power not to rush in and hold her, cradle her gently. but i cannot come into a room of a royal person without being invited. i stayed there, tears in my own eyes, thinking of treason.

the next day was a huge festival. what had been a birthday celebration was turned into a day about princes. i watched her shake her head. i tried to cheer her up. i tried everything. i frequently came inches from causing public humiliation, toed the line of mocking and failing to acknowledge my station. she wouldn’t smile. not once. not even for anything.

the day was long. the bonfire wore down. i watched her crumple into herself. i was out of ideas. i knelt at her feet. her eyes barely looked at me. just wait, i said to her with my hands, i’ll be right back. i took off running.

the price of stealing is losing my hands. these things that i spoke to her with. these things that mattered so much to me, that helped with my comedy and cleaning. 

i didn’t think of them. i bloodied my fingers when i ripped the royal roses from their stems. and then i ran, as fast as i could, back to her feet. i picked them to show you, i said, as she gasped, looking at my treason, they’re beautiful and nobody told them to open to reveal their secrets to the bees. they are unbroken. as you are. as you always will be. 

she fell off her throne and for a second i was beyond speaking, worried something had happened, or she’d fainted, or i’d said the wrong thing. but then she was on her knees, her arms around me, and i heard it. i heard the soft croak of her speaking. just one word, and it sent shivers down me. my name, in her voice, awkward and unwieldy, but full of love and passion, burning fire through me.

i felt a hand on my shoulder. i was pulled away from her. they already had me in handcuffs while i struggled to get back to her, to tell her i loved her, to beg her to run off with me or maybe just hold me around her, maybe just have her for a moment, because i couldn’t live without her for a moment longer.

they put me in the cells. i rotted in there, for a while or for no time at all, i’m not sure. the thorns scarred my palms. i watched the scabs build up and flake off. every time someone came down, i flinched, wondering if i would be the next to be taken and chopped into bits.

but one day the light was different. not the smoky torch of the jailer, instead a bright light in a lantern. at first when i saw her, my breath caught in my throat, mistaking her for my princess.

but she was my queen. at first we stood in silence. and slowly, i moved my hands to speak. is she married? is what came out, even though i should be more worried about me myself and me.

she is not. she bit her father on the arm when he tried to make her. then she fought him. and then ran away. it took us a bit to find her, i’m afraid. she threatened her own life and the life of everyone in this place. the queen was smiling. i was told there was a young woman who could make the princess speak, whom she would die to save, who brought roses to her feet. someone in a cell, rotting. are you her?

the memory of her voice rang through me. i’m she.

yes, her hands said, for even now, aren’t you speaking to the silent Queen?

she opened the door. come, she said, let’s get you cleaned up for the ceremony.

the crown of kings. when she wraps her arms around my neck and laughs next to me, i am royalty. when she smiles or makes a joke or asks to see my cartwheel again, i’m lost in her. i kiss her whenever i can, which is often. we have roses in a vase at the base of our bed, and for all of the kingdom, i’d give my hands if it would keep her laughing.

the next time she spoke was just once, at our wedding, where she said the two words i do to bind us for eternity. she had learned from me, from holding her hands over my voicebox, the way i learned from her how to use hands to speak. sometimes at night she says my name, just because she likes what it does to me.

i’m more blessed than a king. every day i spend with her is a day i spend happily. 

Side to Side

Pairing: Tom Holland!Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Prompts: None

Word Count: 2465

Warning(s): Some swear words, slight smut (Nothing crazy but it goes there)

Requests: I have like 10 followers so like none of you pay attention to me (jk jk you guys are cool)

Song: Side to Side  (duh) by Ariana Grande

Author’s Note: This is kinda crap but I’m totally obsessed with Tom Holland and Spider-Man Homecoming so come on this wild ride and be trash with me! Give me feedback please I promise I’ll get to it in like 10 years

Summary: Reader and Peter (slant rhyme woo) are friends and both on the Avengers. They’re training in the gym and things get s t e a m y…

Keep reading

I Heard That

Imagine: You are always quiet in math, a class you happen to share with Peter Parker. Once you finally muster the courage to speak up, Peter finds a type of excuse so he can spend more time with you.

Word Count: 1100??? maybe

A/N: This is shitty and rushed but I have an assignment due on Monday that I haven’t really started sooO soz

Your fingers cramped as you attempted to write the answer before the timer at the front of the class went off. Several groans could be heard around the room as the renown alarm bounced off the walls of the quiet room. You rubbed your tired eyes beneath your glasses in hope that it would somehow get rid of the slight sleepiness that began to claw at them. Nevertheless, you began gliding your pen over your answers with concentration in attempt to find any mistakes.

“Alright then,” Coach Johnson, your Maths teacher spoke enthusiastically, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Who’s up first?”

The room remained silent as heads lowered to look down towards their work. Coach’s voice was louder this time, sounding slightly more impatient, “Any volunteers? No? Alright then. You’re up, Parker.”

Keep reading

smile ✦ peter parker

summary : as the adopted daughter of none other than tony stark, you have a myriad of responsibilities. babysitting peter parker probably wasn’t supposed to be one of them. not that you’re complaining.

word count : 4.7k (also known as the longest thing I’ve ever written)

author’s note : ur adopted b/c not everyone is white and i don’t want anyone to feel excluded from reading this due to the fact tony is white (and yes ik there are interracial couples i just want everyone to feel included i want to make sure whoever wants to read this can without feeling weird about it b/c i know it is something that bothers people in the fanfic community okay bye enjoy my loves.)

   Tony Stark was a lot of things to a lot of people. He was the billionaire, he was the genius, the philanthropist, and the notorious playboy in his younger years. Most notably, however, was that he was Iron Man. He was marveled at by the entire world, him and the group of heroes that stood beside him; the Avengers, as they called themselves. To you, however, he was your father. 

   A terribly overprotective one, at that. 

  Of course, this was only to be expected of a father, even a foster one, but the lengths the man went to in order to keep his only daughter out of whatever he deemed trouble were rather extensive. You rarely ever left the Avengers tower, and if you did you were accompanied by a team of people you could only describe as rip off Secret Service men. Sometimes, Natasha would replace them, or Steve, but that was a rare occurrence. You were homeschooled by the best tutors his money could pay for- this particular move was less about refining your education and more about keeping you away from any boy in the five boroughs. 

   You chose to spend majority of your time reading in your room and training, always wary of anyone who approached you about being a friend. Your surname meant everything to people, especially the girls that wandered around Manhattan desperate to become the bestie of the daughter of the richest man in New York. You loved your dad with all your heart, but the stigma that ran with the Stark name would never stop irritating you. 

   That, and the impromptu plans he threw at you on a regular basis. 

   “Miss Stark, your father is requesting access to your room. He knows you hate it when he barges in.” Vision drifted into your room without warning, making you jump. You yanked your earbuds out of your ears, giving him a look. 

   “I hate when anyone barges in, Vision. That includes you, too.” You pushed your chair away from your desk, placing your pen on the desk and shutting your notebook. “Tell him he can come in if he lets me become an Avenger.” You raised your voice at this, knowing he would hear you. 

   “He says that he’ll consider it if you let him in.” 

   You raised your eyebrows. “Touché.” You motioned for the door to open, and your father walked into the room, immediately taking his pristinely polished shoes off and lying down on your bed. You stared at him.“Dad, it’s not cool to wear sunglasses inside. You look lame.” 

   Tony Stark rolled his eyes at you. “It’s called a look, sweetheart.” You laughed, pretending to nod in agreement. He placed his hands behind his head as you spun your chair back around to your desk. “What are you working on?” 

   “Something for Bruce,” you muttered, pen cap between your teeth as you continued to jot down important points from his numerous lab reports. You were going to have to hand in a full analysis of his findings for your end of term science paper, and he was more than willing to aid you. “Science report.” 

   “My daughter, beautiful and intelligent, my flesh and blood,” Tony declared proudly. 

   “Dad, I love you to the death, but I’m still not your biological kid,” you smiled all the same, though, and he knew behind the tough exterior you were happy to hear his expressions of admiration. 

    “Who needs a biological kid when I’ve got this great, wonderful adopted one right in front of me.” 

   Not looking up from your notebook, you said, “You’re really laying it on thick today. I’m all of those things, obviously, but I know you want something. So, what is it?” You paused, then said, “Thank you, by the way.” 

   “You sure we’re not related?” He sat back up, clasping his hands together. “What do you say about Germany?” 

   “Nice enough place I guess, interesting history, why?” 

   “I kind of need you to go there for two weeks with me.” 

   With a groan, you dropped your pen and held your face in your hands. “Another surprise trip? Dad, I have school. I have homework! Do you see this?” You held up the thick stack of reports from Banner’s lab, waving them around. “This is gonna be, like, my life’s work.” 

   Tony shook his head. “Kids these days and their homework. Seriously. When I was at school I would have taken any opportunity to shirk my responsibilities.” 

  “You did do that.”

    He waved his hand. “Technicalities. Anyway, as you know the Avengers have been disassembled. Sokovia Accords and all that bullshit. I assume you’ve been keeping up?” 

   “Hard not to.” It was true. Anything in the news was about the great split of the infamous team, Captain America vs Iron Man. It was impossible to turn on the television without hearing about it. And, considering you lived underneath the same roof as half of them, it was quite literally not an option to be ignorant to what was going on. 

   “Good,” he grinned proudly again. If there was one emotion that the man felt whenever he was around, it was proud. Nearly everything you did made him beam with pride, and if you had been placed into an actual high school, there was no doubt in his mind that the person at the top of every single class would be you. You excelled no matter the circumstances. “So, to sum up, there’s gonna be a big showdown in Germany. Western style, naturally. Guns blazing and everything.” 

   Your eyes lit up and you nearly flew out of your chair, rushing over to him. “Oh my god, are you finally gonna let me fight? You’ve seen my training, right? I’m getting so good. I’m like, practically Natasha level good. She’s been showing me that move where I can snap people’s necks with my thighs and-” 

   “First of all, your thighs are not going around anyone’s neck, so jot that down,” he interrupted. Your enthusiasm visibly deflated. “I need you to kind of watch over this kid who’s coming with us. He’s from Queens. You love Queens.” 

   “You’re making me babysit?” You flopped down on your bed, staring up at the ceiling. “C’mon, dad, I’m sixteen. That’s practically an adult. I think I should be allowed to fight this time. I’m Avenger worthy.” 

   “Practically an adult is not the same as literally an adult, as in over eighteen.” You groaned again. “Don’t call it babysitting, anyway. He’s your age. Well, he’s a few months younger, but that doesn’t matter. Just call it… hanging out with a good kid that’s fighting for your dear old dad and making sure he doesn’t get into trouble in Germany or annoy Happy too much.” He patted your knee, standing up. “We leave in the morning, kiddo, so pack up.” 

   “How come he gets to fight if he’s younger than I am?” 

   “’Cause he’s not my daughter. Goodnight, light of my life.” He kissed your forehead before leaving, giving you another encouraging smile.

   “Goodnight, pain my ass,” you grumbled as he left. He popped back in, a stern expression on his face. “If I watch your new protégée can I become an Avenger?” Tony rubbed a hand over his eyes. Teenage girls were exhausting. 

   “We’ll talk about it.”


   You’re sitting at your breakfast table with suitcases piled next to you when Peter Parker strolls into your life with happiness in his every footstep because he is just so, so glad to be there. You’re spooning cereal into your mouth when he sits down directly across from you, a video camera cupped in his soft looking hands and the little red button clicked on, meaning that he is recording you. You place your spoon back into the bowl of milk that is dusted with cinnamon sugar from the Cinnamon Toast Crunch you’ve been eating for the past ten minutes. 

   “Do you mind?” 

   “Mind what?” He asked, peeking up from behind his camera. You gestured toward it, wiping your mouth with your sleeve. 

   “The camera. I’m kind of still in the middle of eating breakfast in my pajamas,” you leaned forward, switching it off. “You must be the Spider-Boy.” The chestnut haired boy feels a blush creeping up his neck and settling along his cheekbones when you say that. 

   “Oh, did Mr. Stark tell you that?” He rubbed the back of his neck, laughing awkwardly. “Um, it’s Spider-Man, actually.” He mumbled the man part, knowing fully well that he didn’t look like much of a man in the eyes of anyone, his eyes casting down as he fidgeted with the strap on his camera. 

   “Oh good,” you nodded. You took another spoonful of cereal. “I like that better. Nicer ring to it.” You grabbed your box of sugary breakfast and pushed it toward him, an offering. 

   “Huh?” He was a bit dazed. He stared at the box in front of him and then realized he had been doing that for far too long of a time to be considered normal. “Oh, right, um, sure, thanks!” He opened the box and took a handful, shoving it in his mouth. You kept eating your cereal, silently staring at the bowl and willing yourself not to laugh at the boy in front of you. With all his nerves, he was still a bundle of energy and cheerfulness, and, well, let’s face it, he was sort of adorable. “So, you think my name’s cool?” He tried to sound suave, charming, as he said it, tried to smirk at you, but he stopped when he realized that he looked stupid.

   You gave him a half smile. “It’s pretty good.” His face positively lit up with happiness to be taken seriously, and you knew the feeling too well. You stuck out your hand. “Oh, forgot to introduce myself-” 

  “Y/N Stark, adopted daughter of Mr. Stark, probably the smartest girl in all of New York and, uh, correct if I’m wrong but… Black Widow’s best student as well as Bruce Banner’s apprentice.” 

   You gaped at him. The blush he had been sporting crept up to his ears and made his nose turn the shade of a strawberry. “Well, uh, yeah,” you said, flustered. “Should I creeped out or flattered?” 

   “Flattered, please.” The genuine worry in his eyes as he leaned forward made you laugh. He had an endearing personality. 

   “Flattered it is.” You watched the slow sigh of relief leave his mouth, his hands flying up the mess of hair atop his head and fixing it distractedly. Your dad walked into the room, and Peter practically fell out of his chair trying to stand up and seem presentable. Your slouch was indicative that you didn’t care much. He was just your dad. “Morning, pops,” you slid the box over his way.  

   He frowned at it.” Y/N, that stuff is crap. I don’t know why you eat it.” 

   “Wanda and I like it,” you said defensively, a slip of the tongue. You knew your dad was going to get annoyed at the mention of the Scarlet Witch, who had evaded and ignored his attempts at keeping her powers under control. “It’s good. High quality. Right, Peter?” You whipped your head toward him. 

   He felt his heart give a little tug. He grabbed the box out of your hand and shoved more cereal in his mouth, the cinnamon sugar sticking to his lips. “Yeah, Mr. Stark. Best stuff ever,” he said through a mouthful of it. Tony gave them an amused glance, picking up your two heaviest suitcases and beckoning you both to the landing strip. Peter swallowed his food. 

   He didn’t even like Cinnamon Toast Crunch that much. He was just thrilled that you knew his real name.


   Everything about this kid was infuriatingly dorky in the cutest way possible. You came to this conclusion as you boarded the jet with ease, sitting in your usual spot by the window and greeting Happy with your typical friendly smile and idle chitchat. Peter stumbled onto it with awe written across his features as he stared around the place, touching nearly everything much to Happy’s dismay. 

   “Haven’t you been on a plane before?” The man asked, growing irritated with the way the kid was filming everything. You saw Peter zoom in on Happy’s face and grinned out your window. 

   “Nope, never!” Peter exclaimed, his video camera still in front of him as he captured every detail of his trip. 

   “Well, sit down so we can take off,” Happy said gruffly, grabbing Peter’s shoulders and forcefully placing him into a seat. 

  Peter sat still for a moment, then hopped over to the seat next to you. He placed his camera in front of him on the tray table. “Y/N, smile for the camera. I’m recording.” You looked at him, then turned to the camera and gave it a deadpan stare. You even threw in a slow blink. “Good enough,” he shrugged. He kept it recording as he shifted in his seat so that his entire body was facing you, his chin resting in his hand and his elbow on your armrest. His gaze was sort of nice. “So, Miss Stark, I have a few questions.” 

   “Um, okay, shoot,” you closed your book that you had open on your lap. “I’m not that interesting, just so you know.” 

  “I think you’re interesting,” he assured you. You heard Happy let out a choked laugh at Peter’s flirting attempt, but it was just another thing you found sort of lovely. It was a genuine compliment. “What’s your favorite subject in school?”

   You’d been expecting the typical what’s it like being Tony’s daughter spiel, and you were pleased to get an actual question about yourself for once. “I like everything, I guess. I kind of love school, but I don’t go to a conventional school, so. Training is cool, I like that a lot.” 

   “You train with Black Widow, I have to ask- can you show me some moves? I need to refine my technique before the fight,” he explained.  

    “Do you wanna learn how to crush people with your thighs?”

   “Wow! Do you think I could? Could you teach me? That’s so cool,” he beamed, turning to the camera for a split second with an overexcited look. 

   You pursed your lips, staring out your window for a minute. You were up in the air by now, and there was long flight ahead of you. “Maybe. If my dad is okay with it. I have to check.” Peter looked confused, 

   “Why wouldn’t he be?” 

   “He’s, you know, really overprotective.” You put your first against the cheek, leaning the same way that Peter was. You sighed. “I don’t have a lot of friends. Which is fine, but I can’t even attempt to go make any because I have a whole freaking SWAT team on my ass the minute I step out of the tower because he’s so worried about my safety.” You let your head hit the window, your eyes rolling skyward. “And that makes no sense because-” 

   “You’re really strong and stuff. You can protect yourself,” Peter finished. 

    “I think you know me a little too well, Peter,” you said, poking him lightly in the arm. “But… yeah, exactly. I don’t really get to do anything fun. I don’t have adventures. Sure, reading is fun and studying is fun for me and training is great and I love hanging out with everyone in the tower but I’m still a teenager. No fun for me, though. My life is pretty boring, sorry if that makes your little video diary suck.” You stuck your tongue out at his camera.  

   “No worries,” he said, taking it off the tray table and turning it toward you. “Tell me every boring detail, Miss Stark.” 

   “As long as you stop calling me Miss Stark.” 

   “You’ve got a deal.” 

   It was a seven hour trip, and you both passed out by the three hour mark after Peter had pried every excruciating detail from your life out of you. You hated sleeping on airplanes, but your head was slumped against his shoulder and his arm was knocking against your own and his sweatshirt was as soft as pillow. You remembered the shy glance he had given you just before you knocked out on his shoulder for the remainder of the flight. He had a sweet smile. 


    Peter filmed absolutely everything. He filmed himself getting off the plane and then filmed you getting off the plane and nearly shoved the camera in Happy’s face until he threatened to break it and Peter backed off. He radiated enthusiasm. “Look at this, and this, and this, oh shit wow that’s so cool look at this! Oh man this is good stuff!”

   “Peter this is literally just the airport how am I supposed to take you around the actual city?!”

   “OH WOW Y/N have you seen this!” 

    “Yes, Peter!” 

     He zoomed in on your face, your devoid of emotion look appearing again. “Are you ever gonna smile for the camera?” He gave you a pout, doe eyes and all. You turned away. 

   “No. I’m supposed to be babysitting you, please be behave.” You touched your fingers to the bridge of your nose, dragging Peter to a couch. “Please sit. We’re getting the hotel reservations checked.” 

   “Do they juice boxes? I’m really thirsty.” He was just trying to make you laugh at this point, and annoying you was kind of funny for him. You let out an involuntary chuckle when he pretended to claw at his throat, throwing himself on the ground. 

   “I’ll make sure they have juice boxes for you, Petey. You’re such a seven year old, geez.” You pretended to gag. 

   Looking offended, Peter replied, “I’m actually twelve.” 

   Jokingly, you said, “You’re a twelve year old that’s going to get a punch in the face if you don’t settle down right now.” He stood up, directly in front of you with his light eyes and little grin, another feverish looking heat burning at his face. Nevertheless, he still said, “It’d be an honor to get beaten up by you.” 

  His voice, the sincerity he carried within it despite the ludicrous statement, made you feel those famed butterflies fluttering inside you. Maybe it was the way he looked into your eyes as he said it. Maybe it wasn’t. But something within you was starting to like Peter Parker, and you’d barely known him for twenty four hours. 

   Then again, it was hard to not like Peter. The kid was just so damn likable. 


   He had known it from the moment he first set his eyes upon you that day in the tower that he was a goner. If he had known it then, just from sitting down across from you with nothing to him but his lanky figure and a suit that resembled a onesie more than it did a costume fit for a hero such as he, he was sure of it now, a week and a half later. 

   Every day had been the same routine. He’d be up bright and early in the morning so you could help with him his training, teaching him how to utilize the suit your father had given him with ease rather than his usual tactic of jumping into everything blind. You’d been the one to help come up with nearly all of the web shooter combinations. He didn’t know all of them yet, or close to half of them, but he was progressing wonderfully. 

   After training, you’d give him the tour of your favorite places around Germany, close enough to where you’d both be able to get back to the hotel before dark. He filmed the both of you constantly, but you shied away from the cameras every time without fail. He couldn’t understand why, but he didn’t push. He just liked filming in general, and would accept you not smiling in any of his clips as long as you were still in there. 

   There was a beautiful sense of normalcy that came with hanging around Peter. You reveled in it. No one had ever made you laugh so hard with his ridiculous attempts at jokes or made you smile so much at his shy flirting skills that clearly needed to be revisited. 

   It was okay. You didn’t mind. And the fact that you didn’t tease him for it made him so, so happy. 

   Then, came the day of the fight. Peter had his camera out, he was dressed in his spidey suit, and you were standing there next to him dictating who he should and shouldn’t go after. 

   “Don’t go after Wanda ‘cause she could obliterate you in two seconds and Cap could crush you, too, but he won’t ‘cause he’s really nice like that. Bucky won’t care as much, though, so don’t do that- Ant-Man seems pretty cool and harmless but I don’t have as much intel on him and Peter if you get hurt you have to go hide somewhere-” 

   “I’m not gonna get hurt,” he said confidently. 

   You ignored him. “I’m gonna be in your earpiece, figuratively speaking, so I’ll hear everything you do and if you talk I’ll be able to hear you and you can hear me. So, just… keep me updated.” Peter took off his mask for a second, hair sticking up everywhere from the static. You leaned up, smoothing it back into place. Everything about him was soft. You wanted to curl up in it and stay there for as long as you could. 

   “I’ll be fine, Y/N, don’t worry,” Peter placed his hand on your shoulder. You felt your face heat up. 

   “I- I’m not worried.” You totally were. “I know you’ll be fine.” You didn’t want him getting hurt. “I just want you to be careful.” You didn’t want him to fight. 

   You could’ve sworn his face fell a  bit when you said you weren’t worried, but he squeezed your shoulder anyway. Without a moment’s hesitation, you threw your arms around him, your nose pressing against his neck as you took a deep breath. He stood there for a second without doing anything until he realized that if he didn’t hug you back, he’d be the dumbest person on the face of the Earth. You felt his surprisingly defined arms hug you back. 

   You didn’t look at him when you pulled away. You stared at the spider emblazoned on his chest, gave him a quick good luck, then departed from the room. You sat on your own hotel bed with a rapidly beating heart.

    The nerves were killing you. Ten more minutes. You opened your laptop and pulled up the system that would allow you to communicate across Team Stark. You were more focused on your dad and Peter. You tapped into your dad’s earpiece after placing the headset on. “Dad?” You spoke into the microphone. 

   “Hey, kiddo, everything okay?” 

   “Y-Yeah I just-” you took another breath. “Be safe. I love you.” 

   “I love you too, Y/N. Are you sure everything is okay over there?” 

   “Can you just make sure Peter gets out okay? If he gets hurt, bring him right back, please. That’s it.” Maybe it was a stupid request in someone else’s eyes, but you needed Peter to make it back in one piece. Tony Stark looked over at Peter Parker, crouching in his hiding spot and fumbling around with the gloves of his suit and gave the kid a knowing smile. Of course that was the one his  daughter fell for in the end. Perfectly fitting. 

   “I’ll make sure.” You knew your father couldn’t see the grateful smile on your face, the sigh of relief that fell past your lips when he spoke these words.

   Peter Parker, I swear if you make it out of this, I will smile like an idiot in every single one of your stupidly adorable video diary things. I swear. Just be safe.


 “Your black eye is awful,” you told him, dabbing at it with more cream. “Totally ruins your face.”

   “I think I look manly.” 

   “You think incorrectly.” You stepped back, your fingertips tilting his chin up so you could examine it further. “I think I got the worst of it. You did really well, Peter. Exceptionally well.” His face was glowing from your compliment. 

   “Can I get on that tape?” He asked excitedly, ducking under his hotel bed for his camera. You nodded, and he switched the camera on. He held out his arm so that you were both in frame. And you smiled. He forgot all about what you were supposed to say the moment that beautiful smile appeared there. “I- wow, Y/N.” 

   “What?’ 

    His stare was kind as it usually was. “You just-” he paused. “Your smile is really, really beautiful.” There was no way for you to turn away from the camera this time and you were left grinning like a lovestruck idiot at the boy in front of you, leaning up on your toes to press a kiss to his cheek. 

  “Thank you.” 

  You slept the entire plane ride the way you had the last time, curled up against Peter. This time, it was intentional. One of your arms was flung across his waist and his was wrapped around your shoulders, the sweatshirt he had came in now swaddling you cozily. There were two separate cars waiting for you. You stood in between them when the flight got off, the sleeves of his sweater hanging off your hands as you reached out to grab his. He felt you push a piece of paper into his hand. “You better call me, Peter Parker. I’ll be really upset if you don’t.” 

   He wrapped you suddenly in an embrace that lifted you off your feet just a little bit, his lips pressing against your temple. “I’ll call you every day.” 


   He kept true to his word. Every day without fail, your phone rang with a call from Peter, and you fell asleep on the phone with him more often than not. If you weren’t on the phone with him, you were texting him, and if you weren’t doing that, you wished that you were. The consistent communication was better than nothing, but regardless, you missed his presence. You missed the way you felt walking next to him as he explained why chocolate ice cream was so clearly better than vanilla. You just missed him. 

   “Peter?” You held the phone to your ear, nestled in your blankets already even though it was barely nine o'clock. His sleepy voice mumbled out a yes? “Would it be stupid if I said that I missed you?” 

  She could practically hear his wide smile through the phone. “Of course not. I miss you, too. So much. Probably more than you miss me.” 

   “That’s so not true!” She scoffed. 

    “Wanna bet?” His tone was mischievous, no longer the hoarse, pretty voice of a boy just waking up from his nap. “Open your bedroom door.” 

    “Are you joking?” 

    You hung up the phone, throwing back your covers and not caring one bit that your hair was a dripping mess from your shower or that you were wearing  a terrible set of hello kitty pajamas that weren’t meant for anyone over the age of ten based on the size of the top. You nearly tackled him to the ground when you saw him standing in your doorway, a happy squeal escaping your lips. You were surprised he even got in, considering your dad wasn’t home, but you figured Vision had let him in. Vision always had a way of knowing. 

   “Have I ever told you that you have a really pretty smile?” Peter’s lips hovered over yours, almost hesitant. You took the initiative to kiss first, your hands delving into his silk-like hair. There was no point in waiting anymore. Your noses bumped together clumsily when he tilted his head back, admiring. You could feel your whole being light up when he gazed at you the way that he did, in that admiring, careful, Peter way of his. 

   “Careful, Spidey,” You warned, hands on his chest as you stared right back up at him. 

   “Careful of what?” He quirked an eyebrow. 

   “You’re going to make me fall in love with you one of these days if you keep looking at me like that.” It was only the truth, and you were a honest person.

   “That’s sort of the plan,” he shrugged in a seemingly careless way, but he couldn’t hide it. He was an open book. An open book who loved you, and the way that you smiled at him when he pulled back his sleeve to reveal a web shooter, a strange glint in those brown eyes of his as he said, “You up for an adventure?” 

Skyline {II}

Originally posted by over-et

Warnings: Language

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: Guys!!! I’m seriously blown away at all the commotion and excitement around Skyline.  In the two days that I’ve posted it, I’ve had to turn off my notifications just because they were blowing up!! Thank you so much for all that you’ve done and, hopefully, will continue to do…as there will be a Skyline pt. 3 and possibly pt. 4!!  One quick thing I’d like to mention, however, is that I’ve gotten a lot of requests to tag people in my writing.  While I’m honoured that you guys want to know as soon as possible when I update, I’ve had so many people request to be on a tags list that I’ve just decided not to do one.  I don’t ever want to leave someone out or forget about someone, so I thought it’d be best to not have one at all.  I really hope this doesn’t affect you guys too much, but if you follow me, I usually give pretty regular updates on what’s going to be coming soon.  And, with that out of the way, I hope you enjoy!!

{part I}

It had taken a few weeks, but life after your meeting with Spider-Man had finally returned to normal. The groups of people hanging around your locker had broken up, the teachers stopped questioning you in front of class, and only three people asked if you had Spider-Man’s number when they wrote in your yearbook.  Despite the attention you had received, however, your school year had come to an uneventful close.  And although you were grateful the interrogations had stopped, you were less than overjoyed about the dullness your days had once again become coloured with.

Your time was filled with events in which variety was far and few.  You woke up at the same time, ate the same breakfast, took care of the same two year old next door, visited your same friends, and tried not to notice the slow ticking of the clock on the wall.  It wasn’t that you didn’t enjoy the time with your friends, or your favourite toddler; it was just that you felt…different.  Different in a way that you couldn’t explain, or even put into words.  Just different.

Keep reading

Humans are weird: Songs everyone know.

Kun’aquk is new to this whole ‘bringing humans out into space’ thing, but he feels like he know what he’s doing. He’s read the guides, and has gotten help from other companions aboard the small (in his mind, not in the humans. Apparently, they don’t have ships as big as the average Galopertaions) ship, only containing a quonton full of alien species. 

Kun’aquk feels he knows what to expect, and how to deal with certain situations, like if a human goes missing or brings back a non-toxic Avregation as a ‘pet’. So, he braces himself, and heads down to the work station of the group of humans, referred to as the specialists. 

He rounds the corner and faces the gravitational steel door, waiting for entry. Nothing happens. He presses one of his talons against the communication button and speaks through it in a gargled voice.

“This is Kun’aquk of Sector 318. I am hear for an observation course.” He clicks off and waits for entry again. This time the gravitational door opens and he steps through. 

He is approached by a young human, and going by his observations, it is a female. 

“Hey sorry man, couldn’t hear ya. Jackson over there was playing his music too loud. I’m Gabbie.” She sticks out her appendage and bares her teeth. At first, Kun’aquk feels threatened, and almost raises the gland beneath his digestive sack to show dominance, but remembers this is the humans way of being “friendly”. He looks down and the pale appendage and looks back up at her face questioningly. “Oh, sorry. I’m Gabbie of Sector 561, Terra.” She lets her appendage drop, but continues to bare her teeth in a “smile”. “Take a seat where ever you need to. Please refrain from staring, I know that is something you species likes to do, but with the gooey sack in the front of your head, and the four eyes, it kinda creeps us out. No offense.” Kun’aquk’s ear tufts turn a shade of pink, for confusion, but he remains silent. “Uhh, hmm. Jackson likes to play his music, I like to knit in my free time. Sam over there likes reading, so you’ll find him doing that, and Sara, the one up on the supportive beams, likes to sculpt things out of spare parts. Today is our day off, so not much is going to be happening, if you don’t mind. Annndd.., that should be all. I think. If you have a question, feel free to say it out loud, it’s not rude.” Kun’aquk nods, and his eyes follow Gabbie back to her seat before he takes out his tablet and clicks a few buttons, taking notes down. 

It’s been a bit of time, an hour, as humans would call it. The room has a calm atmosphere, filled with music from Jackson, and clicks and clinks of metal from Sara as she sculpts. No one is talking, and everyone is minding their own business, when the song changed on the radio. It’s lyrics begin to fill the air.

“Young man. 

There’s no need to feel down. 

I said, young man, pick yourself off the ground.” 

“Is that YMCA?” Sara questions from the beams. Sam puts down his book.

“Yeah I think so.” Kun’aquk put’s down in his notes, “Are familiar to certain musical tunes.” 

Gabbie turns to Jackson. “Dude, turn it up!”

“You can. Stay there! And I’m sure you’ll find many ways to have. A. Good. Time.” 

“Shush it’s coming up!” Sam whispered while standing up with the rest of the group.

“It’s fun to stay at the Y,” The group of humans throw up their arms to form a ‘Y’. “MCA!” Everyone continues to move their body to match the letters being spoken in the song. Kun’aquk looks around in confusion. To humans regularly move their bodies to certain songs? The song ends, and the humans turn back to their activities, like nothing happened.

Kun’aquk turns to his tablet and writes in his notes.

“Humans recognize certain sounds produced by any creature. Do not make any recognizable sounds, as the humans will move their bodies as a way of intimidation.”

Batfamily NSFW headcanons

Well, here it is. Because of the nature of the questions, IT IS NSFW, so if you’re uncomfortable with that, do not read, I have PLENTY of other work that aren’t NSFW at all that you can check ;-) (right here, my masterlist blog : https://ella-ravenwood-archives.tumblr.com). Anyway, I’m not great at writing headcanons so thought I practice a bit…hope you’ll still like it :

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The Goodies-

Bruce Wayne

  • What turns them on?

✶When you touch him inappropriately in public. Especially at charities, galas and other balls. It drives him crazy the way you do it so sneakily so that no one but him notice. It’s a sure way to convince him to go home earlier. 
✶Seeing you putting someone in their place with your wits and sarcasms after they’ve been rude to you…Oh he lives for this, and will have trouble to concentrate on anything else but wanting you. 
✶Your smile. Your laugh. The way you light up his dark World.
✶That man has a thing with lifting your skirt slowly, and putting your panties aside. He couldn’t even tell you why, he just loves it. And obviously, it instantly turns him on when you let him.
✶Knowing that the emotions he feels for you can outlast the orgasm you both had. Oh yes. Knowing he’s loved, and can let go with you. 

  • What turns them off?

There is very few things that turns him off when he’s with you, if not nothing (like literally, even when you’re being annoying, or when he’s being an ass, or if you just woke up and are disheveled and not really attractive…he’d still want you), as everything you do is just…Wow. He can’t get enough of you. Everything you do turns him on really. But He had experiences with other women before… :
✶Women who couldn’t handle a simple conversation. No connection at all with them, just sex. In and out, and then they’d be gone. He hated that. Which makes him love you more when you just spent time in each others arms talking about anything and everything. You’re the only one that makes him want to talk about what he feels and such…It’s a big relief. You’re his big relief. 
✶He use to hate SO MUCH when he took a woman out that had a “fake hollywood accent”, or any fake accent. A lot of fake French one. They thought it made them more interesting, but the only thing it did, was making them super annoying to hear so…Yeah, massive turn off. He cringed more than once because of a high pitched voice, or an annoying one with a stupid fake accent.
✶Narcissism turned him off instantly. Oh the many women Alfred had to escort out because Bruce misjudge them…It happened to him a lot when he was younger, long before meeting you. He thought he’d find a kindred spirit, but turned out, it would just be a woman who wanted him for his money and fame, and who thought she was irresistible. Spoiler : those kind of women were rarely irresistible, to him at least. He could resist them very well. He could resist most women very well…But you. Oh you, it’s impossible. 
✶Lack of passion. He just cannot even think about dating someone who isn’t passionate about anything. 
✶Fake tits. That doesn’t even remotely look (or feel) natural. Fuck them. And oh the women he went out as a younger man had a lot of fake things physically (fake ass, tits, teeth, nose…), every thing was fake in them really, to their personality and smiles. He hated that with a passion, and often wished he could drop the “womanizer” and “playboy” persona, that wasn’t like his real him at all…Everything changed when you came in. You’re the best thing that ever happened to him, nothing fake about you (for real though, if you wanna tell him to fuck off because he’s being an asshole, they you’ll do so, and he loves that!). 

  • Kinks?

Nearly violent sex. Bitey, grabby, pinny, not-holding-back sex. Paired with sweet words of encouragement and gentle forehead/Cheek kisses.
✶Surprise sex. You waking him up because his cock is in your mouth. Him whipping you around while you walk around the Manor, and boom.
✶Sex after an injury. He loves the way you’re careful with him, or how he needs to take care of you because you’re hurt. 
✶He likes giving more than receiving. WITH YOU. Because he feels like he has to thank you to put up with his shit and antics…And you do it so well, oh he just has to please you. Doesn’t mean he’s against a good old blowjob though. Oh, and damn, the good old 69 am I right ? 
✶He can be vanilla and/or rough, and you love it. He would never really hurt you (even if you ask him too, just light biting really), and most of the time you make love, rarely just fucking (unless you haven’t seen each other for a long time and you just need it)…He’s all for the sweet and cuddly aftercare. Cheesy man. 

Richard Grayson

  • What turns them on?

✶You. Your mere presence. A slight touch of your fingers on his arms. And he’s gone. It’s not always great, like, you’d be in public and you’d just touch his thigh softly, as you do, and he’d give you “that look”…
✶Snuggles. Cuddles. Oh yes. 
✶Neck kisses. It drives him beyond wild. 
✶He will get harder inside you by the mere sound of your moans…And hearing you orgasm, clenching around him, is a sure way to send him over the edge too. 

  • What turns them off?

✶Being with someone boring. Glad he found you. 
✶If he’s with a “selfish lover”. He doesn’t mind giving at all, but for him, making love is a way to show mutual respect, to show how much you mean for each other…so if he’s with someone who only think about themselves ? No.
✶When his partner is too forward about wanting sex. “Want to fuck ?” Oh. Nope, he likes when it’s subtle. When you give him sultry looks and such. He likes the building up. 
✶Bad breath. As simple as that. 

  • Kinks?

✶Once, he was arguing with you and in the heat of the moment, you slapped his face. Of course you excused yourself profusely, until you realized he went from being annoyed to argue to being very aroused…You both learned something about him that day. So, light BDSM. Who would’ve thought ?
✶He lives for silly giggly sex. Pleasure, your moans and bad puns, how could it get better than this ? 
✶Women’s mid sections. He loves slight belly and curvy hips. As simple as that.
✶He’s a sucker for romantic evening, that turns hot and steamy. 
✶Rubbing your legs, ass and back during the act. Oh yeah. 

Jason Todd

  • What turns them on?

✶Seeing you punching people. It sounds awful, but the way you don’t let anyone walk on your feet and don’t hesitate to punch people even twice your size…He loves it. 
✶If you wear a dress, your legs will instantly turn him on. He loves your legs. Especially when wrapped around his waist. 
✶You love to dance, and hum songs you like…Big turn on every time, as he can’t get enough of your voice, and you’re damn sexy when you dance. 
✶When you’re trying to contain yourself, but simply cannot. Muscles spasm and contort as you climax.

  • What turns them off?

✶Judgmental people. The kind who decides what you are before knowing you.
✶The daddy kink. Oh God, NO. 
✶It’s something kinda silly, he knows, but he hates long unclipped toe nails. Ew. You laughed the first time he told you. Well, yeah, it’s super gross. 
✶Lacks of enthusiasm and initiative. He can’t be with a woman who lets him do everything, chose everything for her. And who never initiates anything. Basically, the opposite of you. 

  • Kinks?

✶Clothed sex, because it feels like you two are so hungry for each other, that you just can’t bother getting all the clothes off. 
✶Sex games. First one to come loses. 
✶Public and semi-public sex. Hey, he likes danger. When you two are almost caught…Oh the thrill.
✶He’s very creative when it comes to sexual position. As long as your comfortable of course…He’s sure glad you’re flexible by the way.

Timothy Drake

  • What turns them on?

✶Intelligent woman. Intelligence in general. 
✶The way you look at him, with so much love, that makes him feel like he’s really wanted and needed…Sometimes, he just needs validation, as he doesn’t always gets it with his family. Fortunately, you’re here for that. 
✶Nibbling on his ears and neck, while whispering sweet nothing.
✶Eye contact. He just loves it. 

  • What turns them off?

✶Loud people. Oh God can’t they shut up ? He hasn’t slept for the past 36 hours and they’re making his head explode. Instant turn off if there’s too many noises. Though he loves your screams…It’s different ok ? 
✶If you starfish. Making love is a thing he wants to do with you, not to a very passive you. Fortunately, you’re never able to “starfish”…you’d do it as a joke sometimes, because you know he doesn’t like it, and then you wouldn’t be able to resist moving in sync with him.
✶Nothing to talk about but yourself. Someone obsessed with themselves. Oh he hates it. He’s so glad he didn’t find someone who didn’t had any subject else than themselves. He’s so glad he found you. Because with the name “Wayne” comes a plethora of women only interested in money and fame, who loves no one else but themselves. 
✶He hates feigned incompetence. Like a girl who acts like she doesn’t know anything about sex, while she’s clearly experienced. He always feels manipulated when this happens…

  • Kinks?

✶He loves to “discover boundaries”. Like what you like, dislike, what you two are willing to do, the extent you can go etc etc..Knowing just until where both of your boundaries go. 
✶You two nerds invented a secret “sex langage” to be able to talk about it in public. Of course you would.  
✶Nerdy dirty talk. Oh the puns about technologies, and pop culture you two are able to get out while making love : it’s endless. And he loves it. It makes him feel like he found just the perfect person for him. And you really are. 
✶Lazy morning sex. Bath sex. Those private moment with you, where you can just both enjoy each other. Domestic moment sex if that makes sense. 

Damian Wayne (older than his current age of course)

  • What turns them on?

✶Training together, seeing you fight and such. The way your body moves…Gets him every time. 
✶The way you look at him and tell him “I love you”. He’ll never get tired of it. Seeing the love in your eyes for him, knowing you mean it, that there’s at least one person in the world that really love and appreciate his bratty ass. 
✶When you caress his hair, fingers massaging his scalp. Soothing and arousing at the same time. 
✶The way you bite your lips or stick out your tongue when you’re focused. 

  • What turns them off?

✶He tries to be nice about it but…Body odors. If you smell because you two jumped on each other before you could take a shower…Instant turn off. Even his own smell could turn him off. Basically, if it smells bad, he won’t be able to concentrate on sex at all. He’s a living paradox however as he loves the smell of your sweat.
✶Hurting you. 
✶Rude and vulgar people. 
✶Lack of empathy.

  • Kinks?

✶Sensory deprivation. Like blindfolded, so you have to rely on trust and such. Or handcuffed, so you can’t touch and…again trust comes in. Sometimes, he would put headphones on your ears, so you wouldn’t know what his next move is by the sound…Basically, knowing you trust him and letting him do all that. 
✶He likes trying new things.But will never do anything you’re uncomfortable doing of course. Consent is key.  
✶Always the tease though. 
✶Sometimes, he’ll argue with you ON PURPOSE just for the amazing make-up sex afterward…Each time you’ll give him a look meaning : “really Damian ?”, and he’ll just smirk back at you. He knows how to push all your buttons, and oh, he just really like the way you are during make-up sex. 
✶You come first. He loves you, he wants you to be comfortable, but he also like trying new things and he’s so damn glad he found someones like you who’s willing to be adventurous. 

Little Witch (Part 1)

Pairings: It’ll be a Peter x reader

word count: 1730

Requested:  Hey can you write one where the avengers go to recruit a girl they heard about? She lives in the deep woods and uses magic. When they find her they weren’t expecting someone so young since she’s only like 14-15. They start having second thoughts but she shows them that she can handle herself. She also wants revenge cause hydra killed her family trying to get to her.

A/N: I made the reader a little older and i hope it’s not a problem. I really liked the request and i have a big idea how to continue this. I hope you like it and if so let me know in order to post a Part 2 and maybe more ;) Enjoy (and sorry for the mistakes)

Originally posted by merlinemryspendragon


It was Saturday and everyone in the Avenger tower was finally able to relax. The whole week represented a lot of missions, hours of training and a serious lack of sleep. Today had to be their day off. Nat was trying to find an interesting film on the TV but for now with no luck. Steve was in his room immersed in his thought for the present again. Tony, as always, was doing something in his laboratory with Bruce but this time they weren’t eager to make a progress so fast, so they were mostly telling each other jokes rather than work. Clint and Vision, unusually, were cooking whatever they could think of while Peter, Wanda and Thor were ready to become tasters. Everything was going fine until a familiar and detestable sound reached their ears.

“Good morning, Avengers.”, said Colson, “How are you in this sunny and beautiful day?”

“Oh, hey Son of Col! We are perfect.”, Thor answered with a bright smile on his face.

Now everyone was in the living room looking at the man in a black suit showing on the huge TV.

“If you have to tell us something good then go on, if not…better fuck yourself.”

“Well, I’m glad to see you too, Romanoff.”, the man looked with a smile at the red-head and then turned again to the whole gang, “Okay, I will go to the main part. Three days ago something extraordinary happened in woods north of Minnesota.”, bellow him appeared some photos, “As you see, some of the trees are burnt but definitely not from a fire, and this one.”, a photo showing something like spikes coming from the ground became in view.

“What the hell is this?”, Peter exclaimed, “How is that even possible?”

“That’s what you have to find out.”

“What?! No!”, Tony said angrily. “No! Not going to happen! We have a day off, Colson!”

“I know you do, but it’s important. Given the fact it’s like 7km away from a Hydra base, it may be someone used for an experiment. And we need only three or four of you to go and check.”, the man announced.

“I’m in!”, Wanda said with no hesitations.

“Count me, too”, Clint raised his hand to show that he’s ready.

“And me.”

“Peter, you are not going.”, Tony declared.

“Why not? We only have to check what’s going on, that’s all.”

“He is right Tony, and I will go, too.”, Steve stated and the four of them received the needed information.

“I’m sick of Mr. Stark treating me like a kid.”, Peter breathed out as he and the other three avengers were getting in the helicopter.

“But you are a kid, Pete.”, Steve sat down and put his belt on. The others followed his actions and soon they were high above the ground.

“That’s not what I mean. I may be a kid as I am that young but I can look after myself. I can do things just like you guys. I want and I can become a hero. It seems he…he doesn’t want me to be one.”

“You know that’s not true.”, Wanda tried to calm the boy down, “He is just afraid. You and either I are new in all of this, but he, Steve and Clint are deep in this dangerous world and know what it costs to be a hero.”

“Wanda is right, boy. I share Stark’s thoughts but not completely. If you want to be a hero, you must know that you risk the lives of your beloved ones – family, friends, girlfriends… We all have experienced the feeling of losing someone; we just don’t want you to go through this at that young age.”, Clint said while checking his arrows.

“But don’t worry, we’ll be beside your back.”, Steve patted Peter’s shoulder and till the end of the flight nobody spoke.

Two hours later the group was finally at the mentioned place. There was no place for the helicopter to land so the heroes had to get down with the help of a rope.

“So…which direction should we go?”, Clint questioned as he, the last one, got on the hard ground.

“North.”, Steve looked at his compass to make sure he was right and then led the gang towards the destination.

“Why would somebody stay so deep In the woods?”, Peter decided to break the silence.

“I don’t think they are just staying there, Pete.”

“They are hiding.”, Wanda respond back.

“Why do you think so?”

“Colson said that there is a Hydra base in the distance…I think whoever managed to escape, is now terrified and…and angry.”

“How can you be so sure? Hydra probably sent out somebody to see if he can cooperate and serve them.”, the way Steve retorted back showed he had no good feeling towards the organization.

“Because I can feel it!”

“What do you mean?”, Peter was so confused given the fact he was new and didn’t have much information about the Hydra thing and Wanda’s powers.

“Sometimes I can either get in your head or memories, or feel your emotions.”

Steve was about to say something back as his anger has somehow unlocked but Clint was the one to stop them from a fight.

“Guys! We have a work to do and right now it’s in front of us.”, Hawkeye showed the previously seen spikes, which were like 10 meters away from them, “Can you solve your problems when we are back in the base, and I am away from your childish behavior?”

Wanda and Steve looked a little ashamed while Peter was still standing there with a stupid expression on his face while trying to figure the things out. While going to the strange and kind of a scary place the gang saw some burnt trees, others had a burnt hand mark on them, others were still up but their leaves were dry. As they were becoming closer a change in the temperature was felt.

“It wasn’t that hot minutes before. I’m sweating in this costume and now my body is itching like crazy.”, Parker announced as he began scratching.

“It’s coming from the inside.”

The spikes coming from the ground were making something like a dome. The sharp sides were touching at the top, while at the bottom they were forming a circle. This ‘structure’ was definitely made for some sort of protection.

“Maybe the person is inside this thing.”

“I will try to break it. Step back.”, Wanda commanded and then, using her magic, she broke one of the spikes. As she did so, another one grew but not upwards. Instead the spike with its sharp side directed at her body was about to kill her if it wasn’t Steve to save her.  They both fell on the ground while the others two tried to save themselves from the other deadly formations that suddenly appeared from the ground.  

“What the hell was that?!”, Clint exclaimed as he tried to catch his breath.

“I don’t know but we better find a way to…”, Peter was interrupted from Wanda’s scream to watch out. But his spider senses had already informed him about a danger. He jumped and used his webs to get on a high tree.  From up there he managed to notice the small aperture.

“I can get there and I will. Don’t try to stop me, we are losing time. When I get there you will attack and try to ruin this shield. Got it?”, the young boy notified the others through his micro earphone, “Let’s have some fun.”, Peter put his mask on and jumped from the tree. He landed just a meter away from the wanted place but as soon as his foots touched the spikes others began appearing. With his fastness he got in the hole seconds before getting seriously injured.

Although he has done it before, this time Peter made his superhero landing on his ass.

“Shit, that hurts.”, he cursed out but as soon as he did he was thrown against the strong wall made from the spikes.

“Tell me who the hell you are or I’ll kill you.”, a sweet, yet dry voice reached his ears. He looked up and saw a girl around his age standing defensive opposite him with a rage written on her face.

“I’m Pet-, shit! No, I’m Spiderman and I-”, but the boy was interrupted by being sent to the ‘wall’ again.

“You are lying! If Hydra is sending you, which I am sure about, you are gonna die in agony. They’ll finally see what I am capable of! That’s what they want, isn’t it?”, the girl screamed and clenched fists. Peter, who was thrown again, managed to see what she was doing and how she was capable of whisking him wherever she wanted. The guy soon realized she was a witch just like Wanda.

“I have no idea what you are talking about. We are here to help you”, as soon as those words were spoken, the girl was ready to make that boy shut up by repeating her previous actions but Peter was faster. He sent webs towards her hands, sticking them on one of the spikes. She tried to escape but with in vain. Peter used this opportunity to scan the girl. She was his height, with a (y/h/t) (y/h/c) hair, (y/e/c) now full with anger. Her clothes were dirty and scattered, her face slightly sunken maybe due to the lack of food.  

Suddenly the whole structure was hit and a part of it ruined down. The girl used this as an opportunity to go away and this time she managed. She began running but the boy shoot web at her and stopped her. The witch fell on the ground and looked at the four people standing meters away.

“I’ll kill you!”, she screamed and sent a stone towards the group. Wanda was the one to create a shield with her magic and protect her friends. The girl’s eyes widen as she saw that somebody had powers just as her.

“Stop attacking us and just listen!”, Wanda spoken calmly.

“We are here to help you, don’t need to be afraid.”, a man with a soft voice gave his hand to help her stand. The girl looked up and was met by a dirty blonde hair and kind blue eyes.

“C-captain America?”

Part 2 

Burning Low

“You’re not going to believe me,” Yuuri insists.

“No piece of dog related information can be kept from me, Yuuri.”

Yuuri huffs, buries his face in Makkachin’s fur. They’re lying on Viktor’s bed, atop plush sheets, the hum of Euro pop soft in the background. Yuuri’s wearing ratty sweatpants and a T-shirt, dotted with the occasional curl of Makkachin’s hair. Viktor can’t look away. Their fingers are laced over the poodle’s plump belly, something that keeps happening, ever since the Cup of China. There are two periods in Viktor’s life: B.C., Before China, and after. Viktor loves the after.

“Vicchan was a stray,” Yuuri mumbles.

Viktor tries not to laugh. “Oh, love, I know there were posters in your room with my face on them– you can say you bought Vicchan.”

Viktor,” Yuuri whines, burying his face into Makkachin. “I knew you wouldn’t believe me.”

“Okay, okay,” Viktor chuckles. “So Vicchan was a stray.” He wiggles over the top of Makkachin, presses a kiss to Yuuri’s forehead.

“Yeah,” Yuuri breathes, soft. “When I found him and brought him back to the onsen, soaked in muddy puddle water and curls all matted, I thought he was some kind of gift from god. A poodle all my own. So I could be just like you.”

“Clearly, your parents agreed.” The brown eyes flicker up to him, twinkling.

“No,” Yuuri admits. “They told me Vicchan probably belonged to someone else. That we had to put up signs saying we’d found him.” He snorts gently through his nose. “…I sobbed for hours.” Makkachin snuffles, licks Yuuri’s cheek. “I plucked up Vicchan and locked myself in my room–my parents had to talk me down through the door. They told me they knew I loved Vicchan, but that maybe there was some other little boy out there missing him, loving him.”

“And you,” Viktor says, “my softhearted Yuuri, you were willing to give him back.”

Yuuri presses his lips together. Amused. “No,” he contradicts again, quietly. “That didn’t work. After all, who could love Vicchan more than me? I refused to put up the Found Dog signs up because of that.” There’s a pause, and Viktor fills in the gap. Until. “Then, they told me that Vicchan could be missing the place where he belonged.”

“Oh, Yuuri,” Viktor says. Maybe they shouldn’t discuss Yuuri’s dog– sometimes when he looks at Makkachin, the cinnamon eyes still glaze over.

“How could I take Vicchan away from what he loved? So we put up signs,” Yuuri finishes, smile small. “I was ready to give him up. Ready, even if it broke my heart.” Their fingers tighten across Makkachin’s belly, and it’s natural to lean forward and kiss him, all ruffled hair and round cheeks, gentle eyes. Viktor’s Yuuri. Viktor’s everything.

“Let’s end this,” Yuuri says, in Barcelona. The man who is his everything, and he wants to end it.

You don’t have to break your heart, Viktor thinks. Oh, you don’t have to break your heart

You Could Be Twins - (Peter Parker & Tom Holland AU)

Prompt: Peter Parker meets Tom Holland

Warnings: Fluff, mistaken identity 

Word Count: 1,098

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

A/N: This is a crossover. Enjoy! This is a oneshot no more parts to this.

~Masterlist~


“Ned I don’t know if this is such a good idea to go to this party. We aren’t even popular” Peter told his best friend.

“Peter come on this is going to be great. Maybe this will be your in with Y/N” Ned reminded him.

“Y-yeah yeah yeah you’re right” Peter nodded turning forward to the entrance of the enormous house.

Keep reading

Thievery | Peter Parker x Reader

requested: no

summary: reader is peter’s best friend and has just realized her true feelings. after the school day she is walking home and stops at Delmar’s to get a sandwich where a theif comes in and holds everyone at gunpoint. reader is well trained in fighting and takes him on, unaware that he has powers. spider-man arrives on the scene and things get interesting…

word count: 2252 (sorry it’s so long, got carried away)

a/n: this is my first peter parker one and i’m nervous. also idk how i feel about this but i would be up to writing a part 2..? PLEASE give me feedback, that gives me life. anyway hope you enjoy

part 2

————————

Tucking a strand of Y/H/C hair behind your ear, you steeled yourself to brave the horrors that were the halls of Midtown Science High School. You sucked in a breath and dove in, immediately being shoved from side to side by teenagers preoccupied by their phones, their friends, or their crushes.

“Hey! Hey, Y/N!” You heard your friend Ned shouting for you and pivoted to face him, nearly causing yourself to collide with a huge dude with a mohawk. Luckily, Ned managed to grab your arm and yank you over to him.

Gasping a sigh of relief you thanked him, “Ned, you just saved my life.” To which he rolled his eyes.

“Yeah Y/N, he’s a real spider-man, better actually.” You heard the sarcasm dripping from his mouth before you saw your best friend in the world: Peter Parker. He came into view with his slightly-disheveled (but in a good way) hair. You averted your eyes immediately, feeling that tight sensation in the pit of your stomach. Unfortunately, your inability to meet his eyes did not go unnoticed and Peter’s face melted into worry, “Hey, Y/N? You ok?” His voice was ridden with worry but you just brushed it off.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine, just thought I might’ve dropped something.” You mumbled your excuse, gesturing to your overflowing hands with a short nod and flashed him an empty smile. He cocked his eyebrows at you, clearly knowing something was up, but let it go.

“Anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to hang out tonight and have a Star Wars marathon with us?” Ned asked as he finished locking away his supplies in his locker and slamming it shut with an ear piercing metal bang. You considered his offer, on one hand you loved hanging out with them, you guys always laughed a lot and a new inside joke came out of every single one of these sleepovers. On the other hand, just this week you noticed something that once realized, could not be shoved to the side; you were falling in love with Peter, fast.

Recognizing your hesitation Ned used his persuasive sing-song voice, “There will be Doritosssss…you’re favorite.” He poked you in the side and you threw your head back and giggled. You glanced sideways at Ned, taking in his goofy grin, raised eyebrows and squinted eyes awaiting your response, and then you couldn’t wait any longer and you met Peter’s gaze. He was looking at you with a small smile and his eyes sparkled light brown with sincere affection. Dammit.

“Yeah, it’ll be fun, who’s house?” You gave in, knowing it was in your best interest both to have fun and because they would fight you on it until you said yes anyway. Both the teenage boys’ faces lit up with excitement.

“5:30!! My house.” Peter exclaimed, clapping his hands together in victory. You snorted a bit and nodded.

“I’ll be there. Alright, I have to run home to clean my room and I want to stop at Delmar’s on the way. Peter you wanna come with? It’s right near your apartment.” You let it slip before you could think better of it. Peter got the face that said “I really want to come but…” and you knew exactly what was coming.

“I have the Stark internship…” You said it in unison with him, earning a small smirk and a sigh, “I’m sorry but I really do need to just finish… some, stuff.. before we all hang out.” You nodded and called a goodbye, turning just too early to see the sorrowful look on his face. He wanted to be with you more than you knew…


“Hey Mr. Delmar!” You called as you entered the bodega. The large man behind the counter smiled at you as you made your way to the fat cat on the counter.

“Hola Y/N. You want a number 3? No pickles?” He asks you, you nod in approval.

“Oh you know me so well,” You shot him a wide smile and then began to scan the aisles to pass the time. You strolled past a mother with her little boy and noted that he was grasping a spider-man toy in his hand and tugging at his mother’s arm.

“Mommy, Mommy, wook, I make Pider-man go flying to help.” His baby lisp only made the entire scene that much cuter, his mother looked down and smiled at him, “Yes baby, Spider-man will always protect you.” You felt your heart leap. You always felt this weird connection to the idea of Spider-man, more-so than any other hero.

“So, Y/N, where is your boyfriend?” You hear Mr. Delmar call as you round the aisle closest to him. He rests an elbow on the counter and raises a single eyebrow in an eerie knowing way. You narrow your eyes at him and prepare to give him the “He’s not my boyfriend speech” that you give him at least twice a week. But you stopped short when his eyes went wide and he raised his hands in submission. He cocked his head at you as an attempt to tell you to get away.

“Put your hands in the air,” You heard a rough voice and then felt a jab in your lower back… a gun. You did as he said and felt him pin your hands together and place them where the gun was, which was now by your head. You felt your heartbeat in your neck and everything seemed to slow down. You saw the woman pull her son behind the furthest aisle, she locked eyes with you and you felt her fear echoed in your face.

“Give me the money, NOW” He shouted at Mr. Delmar, who looked at you with the concern of a parent and did as he said, pulling open the cash register. Pulling yourself out of the haze of fear you forced yourself to remember your training. Closing your eyes tight you drew in a serene breath, One, Two, Three.

Throwing your elbow back, you stomped on his booted foot. He drew away from you with a wheeze of surprise and pain. You threw a hard right hook and distracted him as Mr. Delmar reached for the phone and dialed 911. You actually started to have the upper hand as you kicked out his right foot and he fell to his knee, but then something turned the tables, his hands began to steam and his ski mask caught fire… shit


Peter always followed you home before he started searching for crime, only leaving you if he sees a problem or hears sirens. He was sitting up on top of the building behind the ATM across the street from Delmar’s swinging his legs back and forth and waiting for you to return to view with a sandwich in hand. He pulled his phone out of the side pocket of his backpack and scrolled through to see if he had any new texts from Ned. You were taking longer than usual, he stood up on the edge of the building, careful not to be seen, since he was wearing the Spider-man suit, and searched for you.

Peter knew something was up, he couldn’t keep hiding the secret from you, and eventually Ned would probably let it slip. He thought back to earlier this afternoon when you wouldn’t meet his eyes. He didn’t want to lose you but he didn’t want to put you in jeopardy with you knowing.

“Karen, can I hear what’s happening in there?” Peter asked his suit lady.

“Engaging enhanced reconnaissance mode” He then heard a commotion and could see the heat signatures of two people fighting. Suddenly, however, one of the figures had their hands and head light up red-hot. Shit, Y/N was in there. Peter shot up and jumped from his perch onto the ATM building and then swung down to Delmar’s, blasting through the door. Nobody would hurt Y/N…


You pulled away from the burning man and backed up as far as you could. But you remembered the frightened woman and decided to try and lead him away from them, “Come on, I’m just a teenager why don’t you come get me?” That was the wrong thing to say, he hurled a fireball at your head. You narrowly avoided it but fell to the floor, tripping over a fallen newspaper stack. Your heart caught in your throat as he moved to stand over you, pulling off his mask to reveal a devilish smirk.

“What are you going to do now, babyface?” He growled at you, showcasing his cracked and missing teeth. You cringed away just kind of moving backwards an inch.

“She doesn’t have to do anything, because I will.” Your head whipped up to find the source of the familiar voice. What you found you couldn’t believe… It was him! Spider-man. He shot a web into the middle of the mans chest and used it to pull him forward, he kicked the man in the chest and then looked over at you. “Get everyone out of here! Get to safety.” You looked up at him mesmerized, taking a moment to fully absorb his words and then nodded profusely. You pulled yourself up, muscles aching from the combat you just did and scurried over to huddled mother. 

“Please, you have to get out of her.” The woman nodded and gripped her son tightly, sprinting for the door as he kept pointing at the real version of the small action figure in his hand. You nodded at Mr. Delmar and he began to get employees out. You slowly leaned around one of the aisles to see where they were. Spider-man was locked in combat with him, continuously shooting webs that would melt over his hands so that the punches didn’t burn. You saw that no one else was left in the store and looked around for an exit route. You were blocked in, they had moved over by the doorway. You wanted to help the hero but didn’t know how. Then it occurred to you.

You leaned close to the ground and made your way to the ice cream refrigerator on the wall on the wall. Desperately, you flung the door open and began ripping ice cream off the walls, until there was enough space for you to be able to fit in it. You stood in front of it and then prepared yourself for bravery you were pretty sure you didn’t actually have.

“Hey! Hot-Head! Come at me, I bet I can still take you.” He turned to you and smiled. You turned around fast to make sure the open fridge was right behind you.

“What-what’re you doing!?” Spider-man shouted, but you shook your head, letting the man get closer. His hands caught fire and he pushed you until you were up against the freezer and you caught eyes with Spider-man. You had about 2 seconds to get him to understand. You gestured your head back, ducked down and pushed yourself on the floor between the mans legs and shouted, “WEB HIM.”

In a second a stream of webs shot over your head and sealed the man in the freezer, door still open (you weren’t trying to kill him). Spider-man walked forward and webbed him over and over again. And you knew your theory worked, the fridge counteracted his heat and he could not melt the webs.

When he was done webbing the thief, Spider-man turned to you and cocked his head in a weirdly familiar way, “Thank you, that was really brave..” He seemed confused but also satisfied and sort of… proud?

“Yeah- uh, no of course.” You replied nervously, noticing that he seemed to have made his voice lower since the last time he talked. You took in his muscles and felt a blush creep over your face.

“Listen, I kind of have to go, the cops are going to get here soon and I really don’t want to have to explain to my parents what happened, also I want to be able to hang out with my friends. They’d never let me leave the house again after this…” You gestured to the scene around you. The masked hero nodded. 

“I get it… more than you know. Come here, I can help.” He motioned for you to come outside by the door with him. “Hold on tight.” He grabbed you around the waist once you were out and shot a web, lifting you into the air. It was exhilarating and you felt your hair whipping around your face. However, the joy ride was short. Spider-man brought you to the ground 3 buildings over from Delmar’s just as the first responders arrived on the scene. Miraculously he took you in the direction of your house.

“Now you don’t have to worry, get home safe. I don’t recommend any more stops tonight.” Spider-man said to you. There was a note of deep concern in his voice and again it felt familiar.

“Thank you,” You whispered breathless. Staring at a real hero, one whom you had just helped catch a villain was unreal. He didn’t answer, he merely raised a gloved hand and smoothed down your unruly hair. Then without warning he shot a web out to his right and swung out of view.

Something in your stomach was telling you that you knew the face underneath that mask, but you tucked away that nagging feeling and hauled-ass home.

Draco’s Soulmate

so I saw this au where there was a countdown on someone’s wrist to the moment they meet their soulmate and I’m a sucker for soulmate and muggle au’s so I decided to write one! I might do one in Harry’s POV if y’all want me to. Enjoy!

3 minutes and 34 seconds. The nerves were growing inside him. Draco had always strived to look his best, however this morning nothing seemed right. Even though his hair was perfectly styled and he tried to look casual but not too casual (even though the man almost always wore a suit). Today he wore a white button up under a black blazer and black skinny jeans. Draco didn’t think it was possible for someone to feel overdressed and underdressed at the same time, but that’s what he was feeling.

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It’s a [Tinder] Date! (Part 3/3)

Summary: Thinking he needs to find a date, Natasha signs Steve up to Tinder. In Queens, Peter Parker does the same to you. It’s a match!

Word Count: 3,405

Part 1 Part 2

A/N: Almost a month later, but this fic is officially done :D I hope you all enjoy this fluffiness. 

Originally posted by mackievanstan


Work managed to distract you enough to not keep looking at the clock every five minutes. Despite part of your brain telling you that there was no way you had a date with Captain America, there was another part that couldn’t help but to hope this was true. And so, you found yourself daydreaming of showing up to the restaurant and seeing him there. What would you even say to him? What kind of greeting would you use? Would you address him as Captain, or maybe Mr. Rogers, or just Steve?

By the time you got home, you had a few outfit options in mind and made a beeline to the bathroom, taking a shower before you got started on getting ready.

Peter came around as you were choosing between four different outfits you had draped on your bed. He helped you picked the one that was form-fitting, waggling his eyebrows playfully.

“We gotta tease him,” he said.

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