spiderman underwear

Originally posted by knfie-edge

Imagine your father, Tony Stark, walking in and seeing Peter shirtless in your bedroom (also, I imagine you guys are maybe Juniors or Seniors in High School during this)

- Head Honcho ~ Zoe

“Don’t you want to take off your suit?” You question as you and Peter lay on your bed, cuddled up under the covers with the Star Wars’ menu playing on the portable movie player your father made for your birthday last year. The actual device is like his phones but it projects the screen above it like one of his blueprint tables.

“But then I won’t feel like a cool badass superhero.” He whines, throwing his head back.

“Boohoo.” You pout out your bottom lip, mocking your boyfriend. “Now take it off.” You pat his chest then scoot away from him so he can stand up. When he does get up from the bed, you make sure to place a firm slap upon his precious little butt.

“Aye.” He covers his behind, turning around to scold you but you give him an innocent look.

“What?” You shrug. “I couldn’t help myself.” You smile and burrow back into your blankets.

“You never can help yourself.” He chuckles, shaking his head.

“I’m sorry that I love you so much!”

“You’re not sorry for that.” He scoffs, you nod. “But you should be sorry for how hands-y you are.” He points a finger at you.

“I’m a Stark, it’s in my blood.” You raise your hands up in defense. “Now take it off before I come over there and help you.”

Peter just shakes his head at you but none the less has a small smile on his face. He presses the spider in the middle of his chest causing his suit to loosen as he walks over to your dresser.

He lets his suit fall down his body while he digs through his clothes in the top drawer. You don’t fight the grin that easily comes on your face when you watch your boyfriend of two years sort through the drawer. The normalcy of it makes your heart all warm and fuzzy… speaking about warm and fuzzy;

“Can you throw me a sweater?” You call to him. He nods, grabbing his famous dark blue Midtown School of Science & Technology pullover. “Thank you.” You catch the clothing item he threw.

“No prob…lem.” He cuts himself off with a yawn, stretching his arms over his head.

“Tired?” You inquire, trying to find the head hole of the garment before putting it on.

“Yeah.” He nods. “Last night’s mission was rough.” He sighs, dropping his arms to his side.

"I know, I was there.” You let out a breathy laugh then (attempt to) pull his sweater over your head. Now it’s Peter’s turn to smile and get the warm, fuzzy feeling. 

He tries to shake the teenage boy thoughts out of his head that were trying to replace his sweet innocent ones. He lets out a sigh and turns around back to the drawer, fixing the waistband of his boxers so they aren’t hanging so low on his hips

“What the hell is going on here?” Someone demands, their voice loud and full of anger. You don’t see who it is because you are currently struggling with the pullover.

“N-n-nothing, Mr. Stark.” Peter stutters out.

“Nothing my ass.” You hear your father mumble then you hear footsteps stomp against your floor followed by something slamming against the wall.

You finally get your head in the right hole and see your father holding your boyfriend to the wall, a furious look on his face.

“Dad!!” You shout, flinging your blankets off and rushing to the two. ”Dad!” You grab his arm and pull him back enough to get between the two men. “Calm down.”

Your father clenches his jaw and looks between the two of you. He notices your worried expression and relaxes his posture but doesn’t get out of protective dad mode.

“Sit down.” He demands, pointing to the bed while he walks a few feet in front of it. “Both of you, sit down.” He repeats. You and Peter share a hesitant look but go over to the bed and sit down at the foot of it.

A painful silence falls between the three of you as your father paces back and fourth.

“I-I-I swear, we didn’t do anything.” Peter bravely breaks the silence

“Then why are you stuttering?” Dad questions, Peter’s eyes widen.

“Th-tha-that’s a good point, but to be fair, I always stutter around you.” He lets out a nervous laugh, Dad sends him a look causing him to shut up and look down at his hands.

You sigh and hang your head. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Peter’s hands shaking a little bit. Even with Peter being Spiderman, he still shakes when he’s nervous or scared… especially when it comes to your father.

You carefully pull his hand from his lap and place it in yours, your fingers interlaces with his.

“I can’t believe you would do this to me.” Your father finally says. “I went to you for help and gave you a new suit, all access to… some of my lab, and you’re getting a free ride to college from my sponsorship for you.”

“And…” He stops pacing and runs a hand through his hair. “And to say thank you, you… fondue with my daughter.”

“As much as I hate to point this out right now, you knew and approved of Peter and I dating.” You bring up, your dad opens his mouth to speak but closes it.

“But I didn’t approve of you two fondueing.” He smirks.

You let out a scoff while rolling your eyes.

“You shouldn’t be one to scold me about that.” You call out. “And we weren’t doing anything like Peter said.”

“Then why were you getting your shirt back on and why was–” He sighs and facepalms. “–why is he–” He points to a very de-robed Spiderman. “in his underwear?” Peter’s face turns red and he grabs a blanket and covers himself up.

“I was cold and Peter was changing out of his suit.” You defend. “And if we were doing something, you could’ve walked in on a much worse moment.” Peter’s eyes widen and he shrinks down a bit, cringing at what you just said.

“I’m going to pretend you, my sweet little innocent pride and joy, didn’t just say that.” Dad closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “But I’m just going to at least hope you guys are responsible.” He hints, not wanting to fully say to ‘use condoms’. You nod but his eyes are on Peter for that one.

“Peter.” He calls, the young brunette’s head shoots up. “Responsible?”

“What?” He furrows his eyebrows, you nudge his arm and give him a look. “Oh, yeah, yeah. Of course!” He furiously blushes but nods his head.

“Ok.” Dad wipes his sweaty hands on his pants while letting out a deep breath. “So, I’m just going to go then…” He slowly makes his way towards the door. “But if I do happen to come in here later, you both better be clothed and being sickeningly cute couple by cuddling, okay?”

“Yes, sir.” You both nod.

“Good.” He faintly smiles. “I’m going to go now…” He slowly closes the door.

“Bye, Dad.” You wave.

“Bye.” He sits his head back in then goes back to slowly closing the door. “Pizza for dinner.” He announces.

“Alright.” You giggle. ”Bye, Dad.” You repeat.

“Bye.” He whispers, the door fully closing now.

You wait a few seconds to let your father walk away from the door to say anything.

“Soooo…” You speak up. “Want to start the movie?”

“Please.” He stands up, heading to your dresser to start it and get every layer of clothing he can incase your father walks back in.

Domestic Drabbles - 9: Simon Snow and The Spiderman Boxers


Just kidding. Presenting Domestic Drabbles, part 9! 
I can’t believe I’ve written this many!

Shoutout to my amazing beta, @baz-n-simon!
And to @eroticgropefest, whose lovely drabble series has inspired this one!

Enjoy (:


Back at Watford, if someone had told me that one day I would be doing Simon Snow’s laundry while he just sits around, I would have laughed in their faces and asked what sort of enslavement spell he was planning on using against me. But as I sit here, folding Snow’s shirts into neat piles while he stares off into space, I begin to realize that he doesn’t need magick to get me to do what he wants.

“Baz,” he had said to me just a few hours earlier. “I’m rubbish at laundry. Will you help me?” He had flashed a huge grin and batted his stubby eyelashes at me, a signature Snow move when he wanted something, and I knew that I was completely helpless against it. He knows I’m completely helpless against it. Even without his magick, Snow could make me do anything if he tried hard enough.

It’s evening now, and the setting sun is filtering in through the windows. Snow is sitting at the other end of the sofa, surrounded by his messy piles of clothes. He only bothered folding two articles of clothing, then decided he was bored, and instead has been staring off at the windows while I work through the basket on the floor. I should be more irritated at him, but every time he closes his eyes and runs his hand through his hair, the sunspots that have made their way through the blinds dance across his arms and face, and he looks positively radiant. And I wonder how someone like him, with his boxy shoulders and his ruffled hair, could always be so angelic. So glowing. So beautiful. So—

“Snow, what the fuck are these?”

His eyes immediately leave the windows and dart over to my hands, as I reach into the laundry hamper and pull out the most atrocious pair of boxers I’ve ever seen. One half is red and the other blue, and they’re covered in various pictures of Spiderman in different poses. I almost laugh, and as Snow’s eyes widen, I do.

“Baz! Give me those!” Snow immediately launches himself across the couch to retrieve them, but the piles of clothes get in his way, and I hold the boxers above me, far out of his reach.

“Where did you get these?” I ask, still laughing. “They’re hideous.” He tries to grab my arm, but I hold onto his wrist with my free hand and hold the boxers off the side of the couch.

“Hand them over,” he says, turning his wrist out of my grasp. He tries to move towards me, but I push back on his shoulder.

“Did you have these when we were at Watford?”

“Shut it, Baz!” He says, trying to move away from my hand. But I hold onto him tightly.

“Crowley, Snow. So you’re telling me that every time you threatened me and my life with that bloody sword of yours, you were wearing these? Truly? The Chosen One, sporting around Spiderman underwear?” I start laughing again because it has to be one of the most absurd images that has ever come into my mind.

“Fuck you,” he says, swinging his shoulder out of my grip. He stands up and tries to walk over to the side of the couch, but I catch his legs with mine and wrap them around his, holding him in place.

“I don’t think so,” I say. I lean up and put the boxers behind me, between my back and the couch, and lean against them. “You’re not getting these back. I’m holding them hostage forever.”

“Baz, c’mon,” he whines, crossing his arms and locking his gaze with mine. Then in a quiet tone, he says, “those are my favorite.”

I laugh again and wrap my legs tighter around him. “That’s hilarious, Snow. But you’re still not getting them back.”

He furrows his eyebrows briefly, then tilts his head to the side. He flutters his eyelashes at me and grins. The signature Snow move.

“Please, Baz?” He asks, sweetly. “Can I have them back?”

I hesitate briefly but try to push down the need to give Snow what he wants.

“That’s not going to work on me this time,” I say. “You’re not getting these back.”

He furrows his eyebrows again, but he doesn’t frown. Instead, his lips curl upward into one of the most antagonistic smirks I’ve ever seen grace his perfect lips. He leans down, placing his hands against the back of the couch, on either side of my shoulders, and settles his face only inches from mine. He tilts his head to the side and smiles.

“Please, Baz?”

I narrow my eyes at him. “No.”

He leans in and kisses me. Once, then twice. And then a third time. I don’t kiss him back because I know his game; he’s trying to distract me. But then he kisses me a fourth time, biting my lip gently in the process. I try to stay focused, pushing my back against the couch, but then he kisses my jaw. Crowley. Once. Twice. And then again. And he’s trailing his mouth along it. And then he slides his hand into my hair and the other against my side. I lean my head back slightly. And he starts kissing down my neck, and along my throat. Then he bites me there, and I shudder. Crowley, I’m done for, I think. And then he suddenly starts kissing at the base of my neck, and then he moves  along my collarbone, and then he—

“Hah!” He exclaims, startling me. I open my eyes that I hadn’t realized I had closed, and he’s now standing in front of me, waving the boxers around in the air.

“You’re too easy, Baz,” he says, smirking at me.

I cock an eyebrow at him, irritably.

“Fine, Snow,” I say, leaning up. “You win.”

He sticks his tongue out at me.

“But we’re not done yet,” I say.

“Wha—?” Before he can finish, I lean forward and grab him by the shirt collar.

(1)(2)(3)(4)(5)(6)(7)(8) - (ao3)


Sometimes I feel that Miles is the only one that doesn’t know he’s in a relationship….

Can you feel the love tonight…..

if they don’t end up together I am going to be really disappointed

especially when Marvel keeps doing shit like this ^

  • Me: Where are my brownies
  • Me: Oh, there right here.\
  • Me: The fuck do you want
  • Me: theres not enough food here
  • Me: I want pizza
  • Me: nobody fucking touch me
  • Me: Maybe if I order pizza the pizza guy will hangout with me
  • Me: Ouch my uterus
  • Me: OW
  • Me: Lets watch some Doctor Who
  • Me: *cries at the intro*
  • Me: *cries at funny parts*
  • Me: *cries in general*
  • Me: Can I be done now
  • Me: I'm cold
  • Me: Someone should come hangout with me
  • Me: Fuck I'm so alone
  • Me: *sobs into my cat*
  • Me: Fuck this shit
a few grahamscott headcanons !!

~ nathan wears spiderman underwear to remind him of when he was a kid and warren finds it really cute
~ warren teaches nathan the joys of science
~ nathan pinning warren to the bed and kissing him whilst saying “i love you” over and over again
~ they go on a double tea date with kate and max
~ the two go shooting bottles in the junkyard

these are just a few for your cute fanfictions !! hope you enjoy xoxo

Working on anatomy isn’t supposed to be this enjoyable, is it?!

It’s a WIP of a very very special drawing I am working on hehe
I changed Peter’s face and body a thousand times but I’m finally getting happy with the result, so let’s all hope I won’t screw up!

anonymous asked:

Omg what are your favorite headcanons for Nathan??

~Nathan is horrible at video games (and of course Warren teases him about it)
~Nathan has horrible road rage and speeds far too often
~he sends goofy selfies on snapchat 24/7 lmao
“chek out dis new bong i got frum 420blazeit.com”
“sum1 do body shots with me i got a shitload of tequila *peace sign*”
~Nathan is a secret slut for chicken mcnuggets and buys those 20 packs, inhaling them all at once
~he’ll text vic at 3 in the morning when he’s having a panic attack or breakdown and she is always fucking there for him (except when she’s too drunk from a vortex club party to hear her phone)
~he and Vic go up to Portland sometimes for hipster shopping trips
~his hands/knuckles are always bruised and scabbed up because he punches walls and other things when he’s upset
~Nathan has a huge!! sweet tooth!!
~Warren bought Nate a bunch of nerdy underwear like spiderman boxers and he wears them more than he’d like to admit (and not just bc he knows Warren thinks it’s hot)
~his older sis is always texting him and sending him pix even tho he doesn’t always reply
~Nathan gets cold hella easily and that’s why he’s always wearing multiple layers and sleeps with tons of blankets, and yet he’s still fucking shivering 24/7

Hahaha omg this is a lot and I have MORE but I decided I should probably stop here bc idk who wants to read my novel full of headcanons

Boys of Summer

for @felicityash and @calgasms‘s pregnancy/daddy!5sos blurb night!

Luke was well aware of the possibility that you were having the time of your life while he was on tour. Summer was the time for freedom and adventures and he had no problem picturing you lounging around in your bathing suit all of the time, probably firing up the grill while you were at it. Yup, you and your two mini Hemmings were probably having a blast going to the beach, having water gun fights and getting tans. He just couldn’t wait to be home with you guys.

And it wasn’t until Luke actually got home that his illusion was shattered. Mostly by your older son Finn spraying him in the face and chest with the hose from the kitchen sink, but it could have also been the sight of 4 year old Robbie, butt ass naked and wearing his Spiderman underwear on his head like a weird holey hat, barreling straight for him.

Wincing as his younger son’s tiny manhood slapped against his shin, Luke snatched the hose out of Finn’s hand and surveyed the disaster that was the first floor of the Hemmings household. There were throw pillows everywhere, the fridge was wide open with it’s contents spilled out on the tiled floor and not a single chair in his view was standing up right. And that was just the entryway. Half laughing half sighing, Luke looked to his two offspring.

“Where’s your mom?” He asked.

Robbie, snuggling up to his father’s knee, merely pointed in a vague direction while Finn, at the mature age of 7 and fresh out of first grade, answered matter of factly. “She’s in the living room. Says she’s ‘done’.”

Shaking his head, Luke ruffled Finn’s hair -identical in texture and color to yours- in thanks before gently disengaging Rob from his leg and heading for the living room.

What he found was you sprawled out on the floor in front of the couch wearing the baggiest of t-shirts and an equally baggy pair of basketball shorts, and muttering “I give up. I give up,” under your breath while you stared blankly up at the ceiling. It wasn’t until he was standing right by your feet that you even seemed to notice him.

“Please be real,” you whispered, fervor in your tone as you looked up at him with desperate eyes.

Laughing, Luke fell to his knees next to you, first removing his own soaked t-shirt before proceeding to remove yours. He smirked as he revealed the sports bra you had on underneath; it was brightly colored and not unlike the bikini top you’d been wearing in his fantasies.

Realizing what he was about to do, you frown and go, “no, Luke don’t, it’s too hot-” but he ignores you and does what you’d predicted he’s do, which was to plop himself on top of you, chest to chest and stretch out over you like some kind of living blanket. You only let him lie there without protest because his skin is still cool from the air conditioned ride over from the airport. “Okay,” you sigh contentedly, snuggling a little closer. “You can stay.”

Luke laughed again before leaning down to first kiss your forehead, then your each of your cheekbones, then your nose, before finally settling on your lips. You smiled into the kiss, lifting your arms and tunneling your fingers through the shorter hairs at the back of his head.

“Mmm,” murmured your husband. “I missed you.”

Pulling back a bit, you raised an eyebrow. “And I, can’t believe I let you plant not just one but two of your demon seed inside of me.”

Though of course, they were gorgeous boys. Finn had your hair and Luke’s everything else while Robert was all Luke from top to bottom. But they were getting rowdier as they got older and, when Luke was on tour like he had been just hours ago, they freakin’ out numbered you.

“Let’s have another,” he said.

Letting out a hysterical laugh, you just laid your head back on the floor and looked at him. He was serious. “Oh my God, Luke-oof!”

Bored with the lack of attention from their parents, the aforementioned demon seed had chosen that moment to pounce on their father’s back. Their father, who was still spread out on top of you. He’d been keeping most of his weight off of you as the two of you made out but, your sons’ surprise attack had caused him to lose his balance and, as result, almost crush you with the combined weight of all three of them.

You just groaned as they squished you further into the plush carpeting of your living room.

“Rob,” Luke said, closing his eyes in what had to be silent prayer. “Please tell me you’re wearing underwear.”

“Nope!” Squealed your youngest as you gasped, trying not to burst into laughter. It was Luke’s turn to groan as Finn grinned down at you, missing front tooth and all, from over his father’s shoulder.   

“Luke, we can give it a shot if you can guarantee me a girl this time around,” you said, finally replying to his request.

“Yeah,” Luke wiggled around a bit on top of you, causing the boys to burst into giggles at your expression of discomfort. “No promises there babe.”

You rolled your eyes as Luke joined in on the boys’ laughter before finally cracking a smile as you watched the men of your life giggle from above you.

Kurt’s second pregnancy is everything he had hoped his first would be. 

Sequel to this, in which Kurt meets the sperm donor of his first child and promptly falls in love with him. 

Filling a prompt. More mpreg here

The bubble of excitement that he feels when he sees the tiny screen display the word ‘pregnant’ catches Kurt off-guard. The whole thing - finding a sperm donor, all the hormone shots and planting the embryos - had been so technical with little to no romance involved and there had been a moment when Kurt had felt a sense of simple duty to his partner that wanted a child so bad.

And he’ll get one, according to the test that Kurt holds in his hand. It’s one word but the effect of it is immediate and Kurt squeals, unprepared to deal with the feeling of happiness that rushes through him. Having a baby had never been high on his priority list. A few years ago he might have even regarded pregnancy as an unnecessary obstacle. Yet here he is, unable to keep the smile off his face for the rest of the day, and it has everything to do with the little life in his belly.

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