smooth peter

Imagine Peter hitting on you.

“You must be a magician…” Peter smoothed his hair back as he looked at you.

You raised an eyebrow,not knowing what to expect.

“Because every time I look at you everyone else disappears.” He winked at you.

“Oh my god.” You deadpanned.

Peter tried a different approach,

“I’m awkward. Wanna make out?”

anonymous asked:

I will build you a fucking shrine if you write peter coming out as a bi to tony and tony being like, "hell yeah me too"!!!!!! (I'll probably cry happy tears too)

Okay. Deep breath in. Deep breath out.


He could do this. He could do this. It was all going to be fine. He could do this. 


Fuck. How the hell was anyone supposed to do this?


He checked his watch for the fifteenth time that minute. Tony was currently 12 seconds late. But he was always late, so this was fine. It didn’t mean anything. He was just caught up again. Which was normal. 


Unless he’s found out and now hates me and is going to take the suit away and yell at me and never speak to me ever ever again-


“God, Peter, pull yourself together,” he muttered to himself, running a hand through his hair and then clasping it into a fist in his lap. It was all going to be okay. It was. He just needed to keep breathing.


Fuck. Why was he even here? Why had he called Tony in the first place? Take an hour of your day please, Mr Stark, I need to tell you something that I’ve only just found out myself and is probably something you don’t care about at all anyway-

This was stupid. He should have just waited until it could come up in casual conversation, not….whatever this was. Pulling Tony out of his busy day in order to tell him this stupid thing was…well, it was stupid! 

God, his hands were shaking.


What if Tony reacted badly? What if he got angry? What if…

what if he never wanted anything to do with Peter again?


It happened. He knew it happened. He’d heard all the horror stories. Kids, kicked out of homes by parents who had loved them unconditionally before. Put on the streets because they loved the wrong people.

Not that Tony would ever do that. Peter was scared, but he wasn’t stupid. For starters, Peter didn’t even live with Tony anyway. 
Well. He hung out with Tony in his workshop after school more often than not, and occasionally slept there if Aunt May was doing the nightshift, but it wasn’t like he couldn’t deal without it. He’d been fine before Tony came along.

But that wouldn’t even happen. He was making this out to be bigger than it was. Tony was cool. Tony would be fine. And even if he didn’t like it, he knew that New York still needed Peter on side, so he probably wouldn’t take the suit back, or kick him out. 

Probably.


Suddenly, there was a four-beat knock on the door, and Peter practically flew off the couch in his living room from the surprise.

Okay. Okay. Showtime. 

It was going to be fine.

(Read more, mobile users)

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Can I Have This Dance?

( PROMPT: This one-shot is based vaguely off this scene from High School Musical 3 ) 

A/N: I was suddenly struck with the urge to re-watch High School Musical 3, and I really loved the rooftop dancing scene with Troy and Gabriella ( that’s my childhood right there ), so I wrote something based off it! And, I’d just like to say thank you to everyone who reads my stories and offers such nice comments! I may be too shy to reply to them all, but please know that I read every single one of your comments, and I love and appreciate every single one of you. Also - please fill my inbox with more requests of the bae Peter Parker! I love writing for him, and it’s amazing to see how creative all of you are being with your requests and I would totally do anything for him.

Taglist: @mainspidey | @x-wing-starwriter | @tomsleftbrow | @tryn25 | @tanglefire


“When I asked you to teach me dancing, this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.”

Peter’s laughing nervously as you tug harder on his hand, dragging him out onto the school rooftop. You’ve never been up here before, and what you see surprises you. There’s a soft carpet of grass that crunches pleasantly underfoot, wooden planter boxes with fresh flowers and herbs, and even a garden swing and some wooden benches.

“Can’t we just head back to my place?” Peter asks pleadingly, his eyes darting up to rest on the heavy clouds of pewter grey swirling overhead. “There’s Netflix. And popcorn. And –”

“Quit stalling, and get over here!” You call out laughingly, spinning around – with difficulty – on the balls of your heels. As of yet unused to the strappy, heeled stilettos on your feet, you have to take odd, shuffling steps over to Peter. “I didn’t put these for nothing! And don’t you want to be able to impress Liz Allen come prom?”

Peter dumps his bag on the bench, reluctantly shuffling forwards. And this is where your plan hits a slight snag. You hadn’t factored in how close he would be standing, the smell of his cologne ( something spicy and sugary and delicious ), or the warmth of his fingers, fair and wholly familiar as he lifts your right hand in his, and settles his other one lightly on your waist. As you rest trembling fingers on Peter’s shoulder, feel his warm and calloused fingers close around yours, and the burning weight of his hand at your waist, you feel warm, and a little dizzy.

Peter Parker was your chemistry laboratory partner. You’d walked into class one day, saw him sitting at your usual seat, fair, sparkle-eyed, tousle-haired and perfect. Your heart, so used to being lonely, had thumped almost painfully in your chest. The two of you had become fast friends, but by the time you’d managed to muster up your courage to tell him how you’d felt, he’d already developed a crush on the uber-popular Liz Allen.

“C’mon,” You say encouragingly, trying to ignore the spikes of jealously eating away at your heart. “Can’t have you stepping on Liz’s feet at prom.”

Peter laughs, shuffles his feet nervously. “Right. Okay. What now?”

“Okay, now move your left foot forwards, and step to the side with your right – No, not that side! Your other side!”

“Geez, (Y/n), you sure we’re doing this right?”

“’Course I’m sure! My dad taught me!” It’s one of the father-daughter bonding moments that you can actually remember. “Let’s go on.”

“It’s going to rain! Can’t we continue in, say, a month’s time?”

“Rain-schmane.” You say, sticking your tongue out childishly, even as a drop or two of fat rain runs through your hair. You can already see strips of lightning in the distance, blending in with the perfect lines of light from the downtown skyscrapers. It won’t be long now before the storm. “The prom’s on Saturday, you know. The clock’s ticking!”

“Funny, I thought that was the thunder.”

“Haha.”

You continue calling out instructions to Peter, correcting his footing and posture, uncomplaining even when he steps on your toes. Alright, maybe you did squeal a few times, much to Peter’s embarrassment, but as much as your feet protest at the rough treatment, you find yourself loving every moment of it.  Love moving through the space in his arms, your bodies close together, your thighs brushing, the scent of his clothes and hair, close and fresh –

Your face feel warm. You wonder if your shirt is soaked with sweat.

How sad is it, that you’d jumped at the chance to teach him dancing just so that you could spend more time with someone who didn’t return your feelings?

“I think you’ve got the hang of this,” You remark, glancing up at Peter as the two of you begin your second turn about the floor, still relatively slowly and carefully. “Let’s try it with music!”

You have to laugh at the utter look of horror on Peter’s face. “Music?”

“It’ll be fun, promise.”

Wriggling out of Peter’s arms – and trying to ignore the sudden sense of loss trammelling through you – you dig your phone out from your bag. You scroll through the songs on your phone until you find the one that you’re looking for and hit PLAY.

“Really?” Peter asks, eyes aglow with amusement. “High School Musical? Wait –” Realization breaks over his face, like the sunrise over the clouds. “– Is that why you insisted on binge-watching all three movies yesterday?”

“It was a good series!” You say defensively, humming along to the first strains of the soft, familiar song. “And you were totally rocking out with me when ‘A Night to Remember’ came on.”

“Think they’ll play it at Prom?” Peter asks wistfully, holding you close once again.

“We could always bribe the DJ,” You suggest, his comment surprising a little laugh from you. “Heck, I could be the DJ.”

It’s not like you’ll be doing anything come prom night besides lounge around in your pyjamas and eating your weight in chocolate. Besides, you’re sure that your collection of songs on your phone is way better than whatever the hired DJ has planned.

“I bet your set list consists of only High School Musical songs.”

“Er … Maybe?”

As the singers croon about catching lightning in smooth, dulcet tones, Peter hesitates for the briefest moment before stepping into the dance. The first steps are stilted, but as he gains confidence, the two of you are soon spinning and whirling about with the same smooth alacrity as the dancers in the movie.

You’re floating on a cloud, held steady by the firm grip on your hand and waist. Even with your high heels and the butterflies coming to life in your belly, you’re twirling about like a princess in an old-fashioned movie.

Dizzy and flushed with happiness, you let out a high pitched stream of giggles, burying your face in the crook of Peter’s neck. Stupid! You curse yourself, but you don’t have it in you to pull away. Peter laughs, not minding in the least, making no attempt to push you away, sounding just as giddy as you feel as he lifts you up into the air.

He’s stronger than he looks, you think vaguely, feet flying out behind you as you shriek with joy. The two of you barely notice that the heavy drops of rain have begun to fall in earnest now, plastering hair to faces and clothes to bodies.

And as you cling to Peter, feeling the closeness of your best friend in your arms, and the warmth of him on your skin, you think, “This is enough. This is enough.”

And it is. You can almost forget that he’s taking Liz to prom.

Almost.

2

It can’t be that hard to believe Andrei likes you both.  xD  You’re both Grumpy to a fault.

So what if she’s Childish and you are so very not.

He lets you both get away with murder.  … that way.  xD


… goddammit Agnes.

So what Andrei is attempting to do was for science and I learned something.  Unfortunately I will have to revisit it but the conditions must be perfect, which they are currently not.

I learned that the hard way, which is why they sat in this alley in a back and forth, with my poor sim eating so much crow he did not have to eat and me feeling bad.

Double unfortunate is the fact that the thing I need to do with the perfect storm circumstances requires that Andrei’s pride remain bruised and for him to NOT slam Peter’s head into that dumpster, as would be protocol for this much needless apologizing.

… that is not how you leg.

Flags (Part Two)(#PrideFic)

Happy Pride Month!
Welcome back to our Spideypool #Pride Fic

Enjoy :)

Part One

Part Three
******************


It was already the next weekend before Peter sat down on his bed and pulled out the card from “Pansexual Man.”

He turned it over and over in his hands, tracing the rainbow lettering, the raised numbers, tapping it against his lips as he closed his eyes and relived that fucking kiss that had been keeping him up at night and had him daydreaming through classes.

The mysterious stranger with incredible blue eyes and a mouth that had been chapped but perfect and a hard thick body that had been on display for everyone to look at and ogle and touch

And Peter had barely got to touch.
Damn he should have touched!

Peter dropped back into his pillows, running a hand down his chest to his belt, hesitating. It seemed… wrong to do this while thinking about a stranger at a Pride event. He didn’t even know the mans name. All he had was a card.

And that fucking kiss.

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The Fairy Dance

Sirius X Reader

So i was watching Peter Pan and my all time favourite scene is when Peter and Wendy dance with the faries and it’ all so dar cute. So… I decided to recreate it i’m so sorry if it’s crap, i tried. Enjoy!


‘Breathe’.

You instruct yourself as you try to maintain composure. Fumbling your fingers with unease, a horrible sensation begins to engulf you; butterflies flutter rapidly in the pit of your stomach.  Your hands rest on top of stomach as you smother down the fabric in an attempt to straighten out the material. You nervously pace up and down the length of your dormitory; your mind imploding with constant worries, your anxiety looming over you. Lily had already scolded you for not getting ready and now they were all headed down to the Entrance Hall for the Yule Ball, but alas, here you stood, a quaking wreck. After much resilience, you finally reassure yourself that it was okay, it would all be over in a few hours… it’ll be fine. Timidly, you make your way to the door but not before you take one final glance in the mirror.

You looked different.

A good different? You pondered to yourself. Usually, you were clad in your favourite black jeans, a baggy top; your hair was always let down in its natural, scruffy waves. But this was completely alien to you. The woman that stood in the mirror was completely unrecognisable from the familiar girl you were used to seeing.

Your body was encased in a delicate, dark navy chiffon fabric which hugged your figure beautifully. Fine lace covered your arms, slightly below your shoulder. And gently placed around your décolletage, was an exquisite jewel-incrusted pendant, which twinkled in bask of the warm light from the naked flame of the burning candle from beside your chestdraw. Your makeup was simple, yet you looked absolutely angelic. Your hair was fashioned in to an elegant low bun, which bought attention to the backless interior of your dress.

You looked different…

… definitely a good different.

Drawing a long breath, you reach for the door, slipping out from the comfort of your room and towards the Great Hall.


“Where is she?” an impatient 18 year old huffs in annoyance.

“Patience Black, I’m sure she’s on her way” responds the fiery red head i.e your best friend.

“she’s right mate, you know girls-” begins James until he meets Lily’s piercing glare,

“- they’re bloody awesome. Am I right sweetheart?” he sheepishly replies, nudging his girlfriend to which she responds with a smack on his arm.

“Smooth, Prongs. Real smooth” grins Remus, making Peter giggle.

“What if she didn’t like the necklace I got her… or worse, what if she doesn’t like me? I mean that actually defies the laws of nature. I mean… I’m pretty darn hot” rambles Sirius whilst everyone groans in agitation. James was about to respond until something caught his eye.



“Wow” James gaps at his centre of vision. Sirius’ expression riddles with confusion,

“Prongs, I’m serious! What if she doesn’t like me and I’m actually fucking everything up?” he continues to yammer.

“Amazing” Remus whispers as Lily squeals in delight. Sirius begins to get annoyed at the lack of empathy he was receiving from his friends,

“Hey, what are you all looki-” he starts but was immediately cut off by Remus,

“PADS! Turn around!” he exclaims to his friend.

Finally, with much effort, he slowly turns his direction to the top of the stairs.

Breathe’, James instructs as he watches his best friend drift into awe. Sirius could not take his eyes off you. You were breath-taking. Every pretty pearl and jewel that exhibits the earth appeared as nothing more than lumps of coal in Sirius’s mind.  Even all the stars that align the heavens bow in defeat of your splendour. He protrudes calmly towards you, his gaze never leaving yours

You suddenly become stoic. A small smile is all you can form as you beam down at your friends awkwardly: you weren’t used to all this attention.

Suddenly it wasn’t just your friends who were staring. Students of all ages and houses stop in their tracks to catch a glimpse of you.  Cautiously, you began to make your way down the stone steps, the train of your dress gliding gently along the way.

Sirius begins to mouth words but unfortunately nothing comes out.

“Y-Y/N, y-you…. i-I-” he stammers,

“What is it Pads? Dog got your tongue?” James retorts jokingly at Sirius’s speechless response to which he earns another hard nudge in the ribs from Lily.

“- what he means is you look amazing Y/N” replies Lily. You turn towards Sirius,

“Is that true Black?” you quip,

“Yeah… that” Sirius finally says, making you giggle,

“Well you’re not too bad yourself” you reply.

Adjusting back to reality, Sirius positions himself straight and gestures his hand out for you to take to which you oblige. He slowly forms into a bow as he places a gentle kiss on your fingers; you flush brightly at his touch.

“Shall we, my love?” he whispers against your skin,

“Hmm… I suppose” you smirk as your arm links his, both of you making your way to the Great Hall; all eyes on the paradisiac couple.


After half an hour of small talk and niceties, the ball came into full swing. Goblets of Butter-beer and Fire-whiskey littered the tables as students and teachers threw their best moves on the dance floor. You and lily sway in the corner whilst the boys went absolutely manic. James and Sirius were full on head banging and air guitaring in the middle of the dance floor whilst Peter hopelessly tries to join along. Your eyes scan the room and to your surprise your gaze met your best friend; Remus was currently attached to a pretty blonde in the corner of the hall and you couldn’t help but smile.

The song slowly came to a draw and suddenly a slow, gentle melodic tune starts to play. Without warning, a gentle grasp withdrew you from your swaying and pulled you to the side.

“I know a better place” whispers an easy tone from beside you. Without hesitation, you took Sirius’s hand and follow him out the doors and into the night.


Sirius takes you out in to the gardens, out of sight from any peering bodies. He comes to a stop when he gets near the opening of a hedge. Leaning in to you, he whispers almost inaudibly,

“There’s something I want you to see, but we have to be quiet”. You nod in response and slowly follow him into the opening. A large, decrepit tree centres within the entire greenery and you look at Sirius with a puzzling expression. He smiles gently before he beckons you to come near the tree.

Carefully, you perch beside him as you peer inside the small fractures that are engraved within the bark. And that’s when you see it.

Fairies.

Hundreds of petite, glowing little creatures glide; the soft tune that resonates from the Great Hall, mixes with the heart-warming voices of the fairies. Golden glimmer emanates from their bodies as they dance in the air, defying gravity. And right there, positioned in the hearth of the tree, dance the King and Queen fairy. They twirl with such grace and splendour that it bring tears to your eyes. Without realising, Sirius perches closer towards you; you can practically feel his breath on your skin. You turn to look into the grey pools that make your faint heart cry with glee. And he’s looking at you in the same way.

He backs away from the tree as he turns to stand opposite you. Confidently, he forms into a low bow, making you giggle as you return a small curtsey.  With ease, he steps closer to your frame and you feel yourself stiffen. He drifts a gentle hand on your waist, the other skims down the lace detail of your arms, slowing down when he reaches your hands; he tangles his long, calloused fingers with you slender, soft ones. He begins to inch his body towards your own, his breath igniting your body with warmth from the chilly night air.

“Sirius…” you sigh quietly,

“What is it my love?” he asks worryingly. You smile at him with sentiment,

“I can’t dance” you admit embarrassingly. A small laugh escapes his lips,

“That’s okay sweetheart, just follow me.” You nod gingerly but seep into his grasp. And slowly but surely you’re dancing to the soft melody and it all becomes natural… like you were meant to be.


Suddenly, a swarm of light surrounds you, illuminating the space where you and Sirius were swaying. However, that was the problem… you weren’t on the ground! You were in fact 8 ft in to the air, still going higher. You let out a small yelp, to which Sirius responds by placing a tighter grip on you,

“Shh, it’s okay I’ve got you Y/N. I won’t let you go” Sirius hushes, trying to calm your quaking body, his arms snakes around your body as he draws you in closer and you happily give in.

You ease after a while and soon you’re twirling in the air; Sirius pushes you away gently into the open air, only to follow you and reposition his hands on your frame, you welcome his loving embrace. Your eyes align again and you immerse into his gaze, his kind eyes resembles molten silver as it ripples against the silvery-white glow of the moonlight.

“Sirius,” you whisper,

“Yes Y/N?” he responds instantaneously,

“Promise you won’t let me go” you utter apprehensively. Sirius looks at you curiously, smiling,

“Of course Y/N, I’m not going to let you fal-” but he suddenly realises what you mean by your expression and his smile begins to fade. Inching towards you, he cusps your face into his hand and closes the small gap between you two.

Sweet, tepid and comfort; your body consumes itself with these emotions as you immerse yourself into the kiss. Slow and calm at first but then it increases in passion and pressure. When he finally releases, he takes your hands and peppers small kisses onto them.

I promise, my love.”

You beam at him with so much adoration and affection that your heart actually hurts; and much to your awareness, he feels exactly the same. Resting your head into the crook of his neck, you both begin to sway again, bodies together and hearts intertwined.

Alone together, in your own little infinity.

Originally posted by moan-s


Originally posted by coleichetrasformaronoinunmostro

Lord of Thorns (Chapter Nine)

Some lovely fluffy feels this chapter. Peter getting to take care of Wade. Wade getting all schmooshy and adorable. They are the cutest.

ADDITIONAL CHAPTERS HERE

Enjoy :)
************************
A marigold, in vivid orange joined the lavender and the forget me not on Peter ribs, and he touched the bloom carefully, smiling because he knew it was because of Wade.

“You missed breakfast.” He scolded teasingly when Wade finally showed up in the library the next morning. Peter had switched sections, pulling several novels and settling into one of the small balconies, reclined comfortably in a stack of pillows. “Where were you?” His eyes were lit with anticipation, and he was already reaching out for Wade, anxious to kiss him, to get close to him, to repeat what had happened last night.

“Rough night.” Was all Wade said, his voice tense and he flinched hard when he sat.

“You’re hurting.” Peter sat up in concern, all thoughts of anything else pushed from his mind. “Last night they–” but he didn’t have to ask because he could see the thorns that had crept up to Wade’s ears, curling around the lobes like earrings, almost touching the edge of his face.

“Rough night.” Wade repeated and leaned against the balcony rails.

It had taken him by surprise, when the ache started deep in his bones late last night. He had lay on the floor and screamed into a pillow until his throat was raw, unwilling for Pete to hear him, unwilling to put Pete through seeing him like that again. Then he had cried into his bed, terrified because it had been so much worse this time, and he was afraid that it would take him over before he had the chance to tell Peter… anything.

“You could have called for me.” Peter was whispering, horrified, thinking of Wade going through so much pain alone. “I could have mixed up some cream and helped or–or– oh Wade.” He wanted to touch so badly, but didn’t want to cause any more pain, so he dropped his hands back into his lap. “What can I do? What can I do to help?”

“It’s fine.” But Wade’s jaw was clenched and his body stiff and Peter hurt for him.

“Um. Can I kiss you good morning?” Peter hesitated a little before reaching for Wade’s hand. “I mean can we–are you hurting too much? Can I– I just want to–”

“Come here, Pete.” Wade turned just enough to press their mouths together in a short kiss, then fell away, too sore and worn out to do much more than that. “You can always kiss me good morning. Never gonna tell you no.”

“Come to my room then.” Peter decided. “Come to my room and we can lay down together and I can–”

“Pete, I don’t think–”Wade shook his head. He wanted so badly to just curl up and cry into Peter’s lap because it hurt so much he could barely breathe through it. But he didn’t want Peter feeling like now that they had… gone further together that now he had had to comfort Wade physically. He wanted Peter to touch him because he wanted to, no other reason needed. “We don’t need to–”

“You just said you were never gonna tell me no.” Peter said triumphantly. “You just said that.” and Wade chuckled, painfully though, as the movement jolted his ribs, pulling and stretching at the newly sensitive skin.

“You are a brat, Pete.” but he struggled to his feet and let Peter take his hand to lead him out of the library and up to his room.

Wade stretched out on the soft bed and Peter disappeared for a few minutes to mix up some more of the cream he had used the previous night. When he returned, he didn’t even say anything, just motioned for Wade to pull his shirt off and set to work on the newest thorns.

Wade lay there silently, tears leaking from the corner of his eyes as the pain finally eased.

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bat-arangs  asked:

Hey babe can i request a Post Break Up Kiss + my man Peter Maximoff 💕💕💕

@rax-writes @kurtwxgners @jubillee @whitesamantha

It had been coming for a while now and you knew it. There wasn’t that same connection that there had been in the beginning, there was no more easy smiles or friendly banter. Hell, the two of you barely spent any time together as it was. 

It was your fault, you know that. You had fallen out of love with him when you realized the two of you hardly had a thing in common. That’s what you get when you say ‘I love you’ too early, when you move too fast in a relationship because you’re scared you’ll be alone for the rest of your life. So you settle down with the first person that shows any attraction for you.

You hold his hand when you do it, when you finally say that this isn’t working out. You don’t want to hurt him, you really don’t but it’s so hard not to because you think- no, you know that he genuinely loves you, that it’s not some misguided infatuation. 

“Did I do something? I thought we were doing great.”

“No, Peter,” You smooth your thumb over his knuckles and you can’t get yourself to look him in the eye, “I know this sounds cliche but it wasn’t you, it’s me.”

“That’s bullshit.”

You risk a glance at his eyes and your heart breaks when you see the glassy expression. He looks lost. The corners of his mouth tilted down into an uncharacteristic frown, eyebrows knitted together and you can see the tears gathering in the corner of his eyes.

“Tell me the truth. Don’t give me that crap to make me feel better.”

“But that is the truth. You did nothing wrong,” You lean forward, moving to cup his cheeks and kiss his forehead, “Just… don’t hate me okay?”

He scoffs at that and stands up abruptly. “You don’t get to ask me that.”