SAME 😩😩💖💖

hey val :D,

i heard your requests were open and jumped to rq. could you please write something about petey being a needy clingy attention whore (me lol). i imagine him being like a puppy. he’s a stubborn bb and he just doesn’t stop trying. like throughout the day he just wants the readers attention in whatever form ( wink wink, suggestive tones if you want ). like a puppy even if it doesn’t initially go the way he wants he just tries again with his trademark petey golden retriever optimism.

thank you <333

(p.s i luv legit all of ur writing ur so talented)

the magic word

w/c: i’ll tell u later lolsies

warnings: lots and lots and lots of suggestiveness, implied smut, and swearing

a/n: hi lovely thank you so much <3 boy did i have fun with this one lmfhshjshs i love clingy peter the mostest he’s such a cutie and i hope you enjoy as much as i did :,) happy reading

-

peter notices first thing when he wakes up that you aren’t in his arms. you’d gone to sleep curled up to him, your bare bodies flush against one another’s. now, you’re all the way on the other side of the bed and hugging your pillow instead of peter.

a frown overtakes peter’s features. your back is to him, so he shuffles up behind you. he holds you close to him, nestling his face into your hair. he lets out a happy little sigh when he breathes in the familiar scent of your conditioner.

you’re usually the first one up, but you’re exhausted from last night’s activities. there are reminders of them etched onto your neck, littering both your hips; love bites. peter received quite a few of his own from you in return.

he moves your hair aside and tenderly pecks each of the marks on your neck. he keeps you warm in your peaceful slumber, strong arms looped around your middle. there’s nothing peter cherishes more than mornings like this.

he’s eventually lulled back to sleep by the sounds of your breathing, matching his inhales and exhales with yours as he drifts off once again.

the next time peter awakes, you’re no longer beside him. there’s only an indent in the mattress from where you laid. he hmphs at the emptiness of your snared bed.

peter finally rolls out of the bed, seeing no use in staying in it without you here to cuddle. he picks up his pile of discarded clothes from the floor. his t-shirt is missing, prompting him to squint quizzically at the pile. without thinking much of it, he throws on his boxers and a pair of socks before leaving the bedroom to look for you.

“babe? where’d you go?” peter calls for you. he pads down the hall, rubbing his tired eyes. “kitchen!” you call back.

peter enters the kitchen half-naked and with his curls messier than you’ve ever seen them. although, he’s wearing more clothes than you’d left him with. you admire the hickeys scattered about his skin.

“there you are,” peter perks up, giving you a once over from across the room. “and there’s my shirt.”

you’re leaned against the counter, eggs cooking on the stove. surely enough, his missing t-shirt hangs comfortably off your frame. you flash him a smirk.

“what, you want it back?” you retort. you begin to lift the fabric by its hem, and peter doesn’t stop you. “go ahead, it’ll level the playing field,” he encourages. “you’re unbelievable,” you chuckle out, turning around to check on your eggs. “you’re a tease,” peter rasps in his morning voice.

he walks the short distance over to the stove. you can feel his body heat radiating onto you from where he stands. his hands find their place on your hips, chin resting on your shoulder. his lips pepper your cheek in soft kisses. you fetch a spatula to scramble your eggs, grinning to yourself as peter plants a kiss on the corner of your lips.

peter stands on his tiptoes and cranes his neck to reach your lips better, but you shove at his chest to stop him.

“pete, i’m cooking,” you remind him. “don’t care,” he dismisses, pulling your hips against him. you bite back your growing smile. “aren’t you hungry? you’re always hungry,” you play coy. “i am,” peter confirms. he manages to sneak a peck at your lips. “for you,” he finishes.

“like you didn’t get enough of me last night,” you remark, turning off the stove once the eggs are cooked to your liking. “what can i say? i’m insatiable,” peter agrees.

he trails open-mouthed kisses down the side of your neck, peeking over at you to see your reaction. unfazed, you divide the eggs in half and plate them. you then head over to the toaster with peter still clinging onto you. he kisses back up to your lips while you retrieve two slices of toast from it, continuing to ignore his attempts.

a whimper escapes peter when you pry yourself free from his arms. you drop the toast on the plates.

“how about some breakfast to satisfy that appetite of yours?” you suggest. “butter’s on the table. hot sauce, too. you want any fruit?” you ask him. peter pouts at you, a smile of feigned innocence on your lips. “coffee?” you question.

peter gives you one last chance to take his hints, but you offer his plate to him instead.

“i’m okay. thanks for breakfast, baby,” peter murmurs, grabbing his plate from you. “anytime, my love,” you reply and give him a quick kiss on his cheek.

you fix yourself a cup of coffee as peter seats himself at the kitchen table. he stabs a fork into his plain eggs and chews, watching you longingly. the way you sway your hips side to side as you pour in milk, how your shirt rides up more and more with every movement.

your giggle when you catch him staring.

god, your laugh is music to his ears.

“enjoying the view?” you joke as you join peter at the table. peter eagerly nods. “i love seeing you in my clothes,” he affirms, a goofy grin stretching across his lips. “i love seeing you without them, too,” he adds. “eat your food,” you laugh out, pushing peter’s plate towards him.

“i’m kidding, i’m kidding. i mean… no, i’m not, but,” he stammers. blush tints his cheeks. “but seriously. you look really cute,“ he compliments, tugging at the collar of your shirt. you wink at him over your coffee cup, sipping from your straw. “thanks, pete. your outfit’s not too shabby, either,” you return.

your fingers brush over his shirtless torso, leaving goosebumps as they go.

you fill him in on your plans for today for the remainder of your meal, but peter struggles to listen. his mind is elsewhere.

in the gutter.

-

“whatcha doin’?” peter appears in the bedroom.

you’ve gotten dressed for the day, courtesy of the fresh load of laundry dumped out atop your bed. you hold up the blouse you’re currently folding in response to peter’s question.

“laundry,” you tell him. “i did yours, too. here.” you toss a flannel at peter’s chest. peter catches it with his face scrunched in disapproval. “what’s this for?” he plays dumb. you answer by throwing him a pair of jeans next. “gotta leave something to the imagination, hm?” you hum. “reverse sexism,” peter gasps, earning a giggle from you.

you put away your neatly folded blouse in your drawer, peter’s doe eyes fixated on your form. you don a skirt and a matching sweater that he realizes belongs to him. it’s a turtleneck, to cover up the many hickeys he gave you. peter’s heart soars at you wearing his clothes again.

you place the rest of your laundry back in your hamper before plopping down on the bed. you have a pair of sneakers in hand.

“y’look pretty, baby. going somewhere?” peter wonders. he sits down next to you and pats his thigh, signaling for you to give him your foot. “thanks, pete. lunch with betty and mj, remember i told you?” you respond, peter tying up your shoelaces.

no.

“yeah, totally. right,” peter assures you. “could i come?”

he’s flashing you that perfectly adorable, comically wide smile of his. it’s the one that makes you swoon every time without fail, the one he knows you can’t resist.

“sorry, no boys allowed,” you inform him. you switch feet once peter finishes lacing your sneaker. “since when?” peter’s smile dwindles. “since betty and ned are on a break again and she needs some girl time,” you explain, waving around your foot that peter has been neglecting.

“they broke up?” peter gawks. “yeah, but you know that never lasts long,” you shrug. “i just told you at breakfast,” you repeat, brows knitted together. peter gets to work on your other shoe. “must’ve slipped my mind,” he mumbles, finishing up your laces.

you ruffle his curls and stand from the bed.

“i better get going. can i bring you something back?” you ask, searching around the room for your purse. peter hops up and follows you step for step. “wait, i really can’t come? i thought you were joking! that’s so not fair!” he squeaks. “i don’t make the rules, peter. i just enforce them,” you giggle.

you find your purse and sling it over your shoulder, heading to the door. peter rushes in front of you so he’s standing between you and the door, gripping at your waist to keep you in place.

“y/n,” he tries. he gives you his signature puppy eyes. “peter,” you deadpan, reaching for the doorknob. peter blocks you. “i’m gonna be late, love,” you breathe out. “i don’t want you to go,” peter squeezes at your waist with a childish huff. “the sooner you let me go, the sooner i’ll be back,” you promise.

“i can’t argue with that logic,” peter concedes at last, releasing your waist from his grip. “goodbye kiss?”

you capture peter’s lips in yours, his eyes fluttering closed as he reciprocates. peter sets a hand on your jaw to tilt your head up towards him, lips parting for more. much to his dismay, you pull away instead.

“i’m going, i’m going,” you decide, laughing breathlessly. “you should check in with ned, okay?”

you thread your fingers through peter’s to remove his hand from your face. peter grins when your lips press to his knuckles.

“‘kay, i will. have fun without me,” he sarcastically says. “i will,” you shoot back.

-

you arrive home with a takeout bag in hand and a smile on your face. peter springs out of his seat on the couch the second you walk through the door.

“you’re back,” he beams, greeting you with a short kiss on your lips. “how was lunch with the girls?”

he’s in the outfit you’d hurled at him earlier, hair now styled and a headset around his ears. his current video game of choice is displayed on the tv.

“good! betty’s taking the breakup pretty well this time. she says hi, by the way,” you relay, shrugging your coat off your shoulders. “just betty? what about mj?” peter wonders. he helps you out of your coat and hangs it on the rack. “she had a few other choice words for you,” you reply, peter scoffing.

“how’s ned?” you prompt him. “uh, why don’t you see for yourself,” he grimaces.

peter motions for you to come closer. you oblige, and hear wailing coming from his headset. he tucks the headphones behind his ears, lips pressing together.

“is that ned?” you mouth. “yup,” peter sighs. “i’m on with him. i thought maybe a video game marathon would cheer him up, but i was wrong,” he rubs the back of his neck. you set a hand on his chest. “aw, poor ned. is he okay?” you question.

“ned, buddy. how’re you doing? you good?” peter softly asks his friend through his microphone.

you make out a strangled no between sobs.

“i got you lunch. it’ll be in the kitchen whenever you’re ready,” you quietly tell peter. you begin to creep out of the room with the takeout bag. “no, don’t go! where are you going?” peter whisper yells back. “don’t worry about it. stay on with ned!” you shoo him off.

peter adjusts his headset so it’s around his neck, scurrying after you.

“baby, i’ve barely seen you all day,” he protests. “ned needs you,” you answer, making your way into the kitchen. peter’s fingers hook around your wrist, grasping it in his hand. “and i need you,” he desperately whines. “later, pete. be a good friend,” you give him a stern look.

peter groans, stomping back over to the couch in defeat. you lightheartedly roll your eyes at your boyfriend and leave his lunch on the kitchen counter.

-

you end up going for a walk to kill time while peter consoles ned. it’s one of those rare, warm days in the city during the transition from winter to spring. you’d decided to take advantage of it.

you were a bit overdressed for the weather, so you’re heated when you come back to the apartment. peter is still splayed out on the couch, minus the headset and with netflix now open on the screen. he must have finished up with ned.

“baby, baby, baby!” peter greets, twisting around on the couch to face you. “i was just about to look for a movie, c’mere!” he beckons you over. you wipe beads of sweat off your forehead. “i gotta shower, babe. later?” you reply. “you said that last time,” peter complains and switches off the tv.

“yeah, but now i’m all gross and sweaty,” you justify, shaking out your turtleneck. “that doesn’t bother me,” peter declares. “it should. this is your shirt, you know,” you chuckle and pull the turtleneck over your head, letting it land on the floor.

you kick off your sneakers, left in only your bra and skirt. peter’s breath hitches.

“hm, that feels good,” you almost moan. “you’re killing me, y/n,” peter mutters back. “i know,” you acknowledge with a sugary sweet smile. you unclip your bra next and fling it at him. “y/n, baby…” peter licks his lips, fingers toying with the straps.

he’s practically drooling as he eyes you from the couch.

“please,” peter pleads, the word laced with desperation. “please what?” you muse. he swallows hard. “c’mere,” he gets out. you look him up and down, peter following your gaze. “after i shower,” you level with him.

“but-“

peter cuts himself off because you’re already gone. he hears the shower turn on, slumping down in his spot.

from the couch, peter listens to the running water and you softly singing to yourself. he imagines your hands running along your body as you lather up the soap, the noises of content you’d let out, and…

fuck, this is torture.

what he would give to be in there with you.

“hey, peter?” you shout for him, answering his prayers. “yeah?” peter immediately shouts back. “could you come in here a sec?” you request.

he’s there in an instant, all but bursting through the bathroom door. steam floats through the room, your intoxicating scent flooding peter’s senses. you pop your head out from behind the shower curtain.

“jeez, it’s hot in here,” peter exhales a laugh. “that’s how i like it,” you grin, water droplets dripping down your skin. he shakes his head. “so what’s up, baby? what’d you need?” he wonders, hoping this is leading where he thinks it will. “i forgot a towel. would you mind grabbing me one?” your grin becomes apologetic.

“oh, sure. no problem,” peter replies, face falling. “be right back.”

he hurries to the linen closet and returns with a clean towel, hanging it up for you.

“thanks,” you murmur. “of course. anything else?” peter’s tone is suggestive, eyes raking over what little of your body he can see. you pull the curtain aside to reveal yourself fully. “you wanna join me, pete?” you knowingly question. “oh my god, yes. i thought you’d never ask,” he pants out.

peter quickly strips his clothes, you giggling as he races to get into the shower. he comes in and yanks the curtain shut behind him, pinning you back against the wall. you squeal at the unexpectedness of his actions. peter’s lips attach to your neck, fingers digging into your sides. he kisses down the middle column of your throat lightly, your head rolling back in pleasure.

you take peter’s chin between your fingers to guide his lips up to meet yours in a feverous kiss. he uses his grip at your sides to hoist you up, your legs around his torso. you squirm around in his hold, your want for him growing at the feeling of him pressed up against you.

“pete,” you mumble against his lips. “peter…” you squeeze at his biceps, your chest heaving. peter leans in. “what’s the magic word, baby?” he speaks lowly, nipping at your earlobe. “please,” you purr, rocking your hips against his. he grips at your hips to stop you. “please what?” he echoes your words from earlier with a cheeky smile.

“you little shit,” you mutter under your breath, crashing your lips into peter’s once again.

just as badly as peter needs you, you need him.

saving you - peter parker

pairing: tom!peter x stark!reader

warnings: use of y/n, she/her, swearing, mentions of blood and fighting (scenes used from endgame)

a/n: i love peter parker sm i just HAD to write another blurb (also for my bexi boo mwah)

-

y/n never thought she'd fight a giant purple alien from space, let alone fighting him twice. five years ago she was on titan fighting the alien, then she blipped, alongside half of the world.

five years later she's on the same planet fighting the same purple asshole.

herself and others all came out of different sized portals created by doctor strange. y/n walked out with peter parker, her best friend. she looked around, seeing the army of avengers, ready to fight the battle.

her and peter, and everyone else, got in their positions as they heard steve, "avengers. assemble."

and with those two words, the team of most likely one hundred people ran towards thanos' army.

sam and valkyrie ended up in the sky at some point during the battle, while everyone else mostly stayed on the ground. scott turned huge again since the fight in germany, and immediately started stomping on the evil aliens.

the rest of the avengers started fighting the aliens that remained on the ground. bucky snd rocket shooting them together, with groot branching his arms through the aliens' bodies.

y/n and peter never left each others side as they ran towards the battle. the avengers' goal was to get tony's gaunlet away from thanos once it had all six infinity stones in it. all they had to do was get thanos' gaunlet, easy.

ten minutes pass and most of the avengers are injured while lying on the ground, the only few remaining are tony, steve, thor, peter, y/n, clint, valkyrie and pepper.

dealing with the team of eight they have, they create a plan to beat thanos.

"y/n, sweetheart i know you can fight and i know you can fight well," tony starts, placing his hands on his daughters shoulders, "but i need you to run away, i don't want you anywhere near here when we get the stones, capisce?"

a concerned look shows up on y/n's face, "what? dad, no, i'm not just leaving you guys here. let me he-"

y/n got cut off by tony hugging her, followed by pepper hugging her as well.

the family of three backed up from each other. tony looked back to the rest of the remaining avengers, giving y/n the signal to walk away.

yes, she was going to walk away from the problem, but as she saw her father, and peter start running towards thanos she knew she couldn't just watch.

taking out the ninja stars she has in her suit, she throws them at thanos' wrist to try and get his gaunlet off.

"what- y/n! i told you to run!" tony yells from inside his suit, while blasting thanos.

"i told you, i'm not just leaving you guys!" y/n yells.

tony backs away slightly, before finding clint with the red iron man gauntlet. tony takes it from him and passes it to peter. "peter run!" tony yells before going back to fight with thanos.

y/n watches as peter runs from thanos with her dad's gaunlet.

peter runs as fast as he can before he gets knocked down into a pile of rubble. a giant blue and yellow beam comes down in front of him.

"hi- hello," peter stutters to the blonde woman, "i'm peter parker."

"well peter parker," the woman starts, "you have something for me?"

peter nods as he hands her tony's gaunlet before she flies off.

peter stands up from the rubble, and watches in shock as y/n is on thanos' shoulders trying to fight him.

"y/n!" he yells as he watches thanos throw the poor girl at least 100 yards away. peter immediately runs after to look for her, "um- mr. stark, sir i'm going to try and find y/n."

"oh you better find my daughter alive parker," tony grumbles into the teams shared intercoms.

finally seeing the sight of y/n rolled over onto her side, holding her stomach, peter removes the nano-tech mask from his face.

he rolls y/n over to see the girl with dust and small marks of blood on her face. "hey, hey y/n you gotta wake up. your dad's gonna kill me if you don't," peter laughs, shaking the girl.

"cmon, please wake up."

tears brim peter's eyes, seeing the girl he's fallen in love with get hurt right in front of his eyes.

the only thought going through the boys mind was that he never got to tell her how he felt.

as he talked on his com, his voice was weak. "mr- mr stark i need help! she isn't waking up!"

tony's heart rate drops. disregarding the giant purple alien in front of him, he flies over to where he saw peter run off to. he flies down to the ground to be met with an unconscious y/n in peter's arms.

"friday, read y/n's vitals," tony instructs his ai.

"vitals steady. oxegyn decreased 20%. heartbeat decreased 10%."

"shit," tony mumbles. "you stay with her kid, i have to beat this asshole," he gestures back to thanos. "keep her alive!" tony yells as he flies back to the main fight going on.

peter looks down at y/n again, still with tears threatening to spill over. "y/n," his voice cracks, "please don't leave me."

the tears mentioned before finally spill, leaving peter's cheeks hot and lips trembling. he leans down and presses his lips to hers, while holding her jaw in his hand.

"please, please, please," peter kept mumbling against her lips, tears not decreasing in pace.

peter notices y/n start breathing heavier, he starts shaking her again. "hey, hey cmon, y.n wake up. i cant lose you, i just can't y/n."

peter sighs, "i love you."

y/n starts coughing slightly, before rolling over onto her hands and knees and coughing more than before.

peter immediately starts rubbing his hand up and down her back, "hey, thatta girl," he laughs slightly, glad she's okay, "cough it all up."

"oh my god," y/n gasps, before sitting on her knees on the ground.

"are you okay?" peter asks, keeping his hand on her lower back. y/n only nods, while peter places a kiss on the top of the girls head.

"i love you too," y/n whispers after leaning her head against peter's shoulder.

breaking away from each other, the two teenagers turn around to see a giant multicolored beam shoot up into the sky, yet the two didn't see thanos with the gaunlet at all.

y/n gasps lightly, before running to where the others were. peter followed after, "no, no, no," y/n keeps mumbling to herself as they got closer to the rest of the team.

peter got in front of y/n, incase anything was a threat to them. y/n couldn't see what was going on, but she saw the group surrounding someone lying on the floor.

she looked around, not seeing her father anywhere. a thousand thoughts flooded the girls' mind.

she heard peter talk to someone, but his words were muffled as her brain wouldn't let her think the worst possible solution happened.

pepper holds peter in her arms, comforing the boy, which left a small pathway for y/n to go through.

"dad," y/n whispers, jogging to her father who was leaning against a piece of a broken ship. "dad hey, cmon, get up. we have to go back home."

y/n grabs his hand as she starts crying, she couldn't hold her tears back any longer.

tony looks up at his daughter weakly before placing his other hand on the side of her face, "tell parker he better take good care of you," tony says weakly, making y/n nod and smile softly.

tony leans up with the rest of the energy he has left and kisses y/n's cheek. y/n and the rest of the group watch as tony leans back against the broken ship, and see his arc reactor light dim.

"no, no, no, no," y/n keeps mumbling tapping on the arc reactor.

her heart drops when the light fully turns off. everything around her goes quiet as she leans her forehead on her fathers chest.

this was it. she'd never see him again. never talk to him again. never tell him how her first day of senior year was. never tell him how amazing her first date with peter went. nothing.

pepper lets go of peter to go bid tony a final goodbye. peter helps y/n up off of her father and immediately holds her head to his own chest.

he tries his best to calm her down by cooing to her.

"shhh."

"it'll all be okay."

"you're so strong, you're going to get through this."

"i'll always be here for you."

"i'll always protect you y/n."

y/n lifts her head to look peter in the eyes. "you better not leave me parker," y/n kisses his cheek.

"never in a million years," the boy replies, holding the girl close to him, kissing the top of her head again.

This was so amazing and funny 😂😂💖💖

Yelena Belova and Natasha Romanoff x teen!sister!Reader where in Lena and Tasha find out that Reader is dating Peter Parker lives rent free in my head. Do what you will with this information.

Welcome to the Family~ Natasha x Yelena x Teen!Sister!Reader/ Peter Parker x Reader

A/n: Hi!! Yes ik, I'm scarce, i apologize. I love your asks and try to get through them whenever i can, so thank you for showing a constant interest in my writing. That's honestly the only thing that keeps me going and motivating me to write more.

I hope you enjoy this!

Peter and the reader are the same age and this takes place when they are in high school.

Not proofread.

Warnings: words like f*ck and sh*t, literally once each.

Words: 1261

***

“Hey?”

You looked up from your textbook, smiling at a tired Natasha who was leaning against the door,” You good there?”

Your oldest sister just gave you a tired smile,” Yeah, hectic mission is all. The mission report was a snooze.”

You got up and gave her a hug, hoping to make her feel better,” Did you want anything?”

“Oh, yeah. Lena asked me to call you for dinner.”

Natasha moved away from you and was about to head towards her room when you looked at her with furrowed brows,” You aren’t joining us?”

The redhead turned slightly and shook her head lightly,” No, I think I’ll retire for the night. Told Lena to leave the leftover in the fridge if I felt hungry later.”

You were about to protest before your phone rang.

When you saw who it was, you cut the call a little too quickly which caused Natasha to look at you weirdly,” Who was that?”

You looked up at her, eyes slightly wider because you thought she had already left the corridor,” Oh, it was just spam don’t worry.”

The ex-assassin looked at you for a second longer, trying to shake the feeling that you were lying and shrugging the thought away to her being tired which made her a little too hyper-aware of her surroundings.

You sighed to yourself before making your way to the dining table.

***

Yelena was attending to the garden at the back of the house when the doorbell rang.

“Y/n/n! Can you please open door please?”

“On it!’

You ran down the stairs and opened the door, smiling in amusement when you saw who it was.

“Good morning, ma’am. I hope you are having a lovely day” the boy dressed in a postman’s outfit smiled toothily.

“Well, it is now” you smiled, looking towards the glass door that led to the back for a second before quickly sneaking in a peck.

“Aww, is that all I get?” the boy pouted.

“For now, yes Mr. Parker” you smiled teasingly,” You got some nerve showing up here. What if it was my sister who opened the door?”

Peter just raised his eyebrow as if he saw this question coming,” Well my lovely girlfriend, I was sitting on that tree over there waiting for the right opportunity “

“That’s some commitment right there” you acknowledged.

“Y/n why are we sneaking around like this? I can handle your sisters.” Peter slightly whined.

You leaned against the door and just raised your eyebrow.

“Ok, maybe they intimidate a little too much and I nearly shit my pants when I’m near them, especially now that I’m dating their baby sister secretly. But still!”

You just chuckled at the boy before giving him another quick peck,” Soon Parker”

“Y/n who was it?” you hear Yelena’s voice nearing so you quickly shut the door before the blonde appeared.

“No one. Just some postman who was asking about an address near-by. Apparently got lost.” You smile slightly before making an excuse to go back to your room.

Yelena narrowed her eyes at you before looking out the window at the receding image of the postman.

***

A couple nights later, Yelena and Natasha were in the kitchen, trying to cook a Russian recipe their mother used to cook them when they were kids.

But both also had other things on their minds.

“Lena” “Tasha”

Both called out in unison.

They looked at each other and stopped cooking for a second before collectively looking up at the ceiling, above which was where your room was.

“You too?” Natasha asked, Yelena nodding.

“Something’s going on…”

Both finished cooking before tip-toeing to your room. They stood in front your door, trying to listen to anything on the inside.

“Should we be doing this though?” Yelena whispered, feeling slightly guilty about spying on their sister. Natasha seemed to realize the same thing and sighed.

“You are right. Let’s go.”

Just as the two were about the leave, a loud crash came from inside your room, causing them to panic.

They barged inside, in fright of something happening to you only to see Peter Parker hanging from the ceiling upside down with you hands on his cheeks, both looking at the door with wide eyes, caught red handed.

“What the fuck…..” Natasha let out, while Yelena just stood with her mouth hanging open.

***

Here you were, in the living room. All four of you sitting together, Natasha and Yelena side by side on the sofa and you and Peter occupying the other.

It was awkward, to say the least.

You nervously looked between your sisters, trying to deduce who would be the first one to pounce on your boyfriend so that you could push him out of the way.

Honestly that was all you were worried about. Peter’s safety. From your own sisters.

Natasha sighed, closing her eyes for a moment before looking both of you in the eye,” How long has this been going on?”

Peter looked at you and decided to answer,” uh, about 2 months, ma’am.”

Now Natasha looked at you,” and you didn’t bother telling us?”

Yelena just stayed silent, looking at Peter as if trying to decide how to murder the boy and letting Natasha do all the talking.

“See, I did. But it was so new, still is. I wasn’t sure how it would end and since you personally work in a team with him, I didn’t want things going south just because things didn’t work out between us.” You explained, finally realizing how this stunt could’ve hurt your sisters.

You hadn’t thought of that exactly.

“But that doesn’t mean you don’t tell us” Natasha argued, though her voice remained soft. You gulped seeing the hurt inside her eyes,” What if something extremely bad had happened? No offense Peter, but you need to see where I’m coming from here.”

Peter readily agreed with her,” Oh don’t worry, I actually agree with you. We should’ve been more responsible about this and not sneaked around.”

Natasha stopped speaking at that, her eyes scanning the boy before looking back at you,” You promise not to hide anything from us from now on?”

You nodded immediately,” Yes. I will. I was going to, believe me. But I just needed to be sure if this would work out just for a little while, more than a fling so that it didn’t complicate things.”

Natasha nodded,” You are a good kid Peter. I hope you maintain that image with us.”

“For your own good.” Yelena glared, still apprehensive.

Peter gulped as he nodded.

“Alright, who wants ice cream?” Natasha asked, causing you and Peter to look at her in surprise.

She smirked at that reaction before leaning back on the sofa,” Well, my baby sister is in a relationship for the very first time, I think that calls for a dessert.”

She got up,” Y/n can you help me carry the bowls please?”

You didn’t really get much of a choice as your oldest sister pulled you up and dragged you to the kitchen.

Yelena waited for you two to disappear before looking at Peter. The Spiderman didn’t know what it was but the stare unnerved him a little too much.

Yelena stood in front of him and bent down to meet his eyes level,” I hear a peep of her cries relating even remotely to you being the reason, you better start counting your days. You understand me?”

The blonde stepped back and smiled at the sweating boy,” Welcome to the family, Spiderman.”

***

Taglist:

@mrsweasley06 @boba707 @calimoi @nevaehss-heaven @catsandbooksandsstuff @darlingangel-17 @magic-sources @heyarely16 @originaldragonalmondflap @supercorpendgame100 @sleepyheadssss @sleutherclaw @deadrhee @graciecliffx @seggsyburrito @sweetlilbambi @bi-lmg @mxgcalvi @sunday-kindoflove @idk123906 @m-1234 @aqarath @mrs-scottmccall @freyathehuntress @yelena-belovas-wife @natashadeservedmore @mmmmokdok @snooy245 @chiyongberry @loner20 @cinnamon8734 @desilimelight @evelyn-rose @karleetakeenan @alohastitch0626 @marvelwomen-simp @darkcomicsnatashaxreaderbakery @gardenof-venus @afraid-to-be-me @louderfortheback

Awww this was too cute!!!!

scripts thrown into the fire

peter parker x reader

summary: you and peter make a bet before spending seven minutes in a closet before new year hits, and he ends up telling you what he feels

word count: 3,117

warnings: another enemies to lovers, peter being a huge dick, mentions of gross alcohol, fluff and slight angst

a/n: nothing. i just really really liked this :)

MASTERLIST

༻✦༺ . ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ . ༻✧༺

“Fuck Peter Parker.”

MJ looked at you, eyes widening at your vulgarity. “Fuck him? Or… fuck him?”

You glared at her. “You know what I mean.”

She scoffed, lips turning into a frivolous smile. “Trust me, I don’t. You could mean – fuck Peter Parker, he’s a douchebag – or – I would like to fuck Peter Parker.”

You rubbed your temples, closing your eyes. You were already having a headache from the absolutely blinding lights, and MJ’s question made your head hurt even more. “Michelle, I hate him. I despise him.”

“Do you really hate him? Or do you just hate him because you’re afraid of how much you love him?”

With your jaw slacking the slightest, you scoffed in offense. “I don’t love him! And if I did, it wouldn’t be love, it would probably be infatuation.”

“So you admit it! You like him!”

“I said ‘if I did’,”

“Same thing.”

“No- no it isn’t!”

She’d caught you off guard. MJ smirked, placing the cup back between her lips.

You never liked Peter Parker. You didn’t know what it was that just ticked you off – that struck your nerves. Maybe it was because he did nothing but strut down the hallways with that smug look on his face knowing he was the smartest, or that he dated the hottest girls or that everyone appreciated who he was.

You didn’t know when you started hating him because you felt that way for years. But you knew why you hated him.

You hated him and that was it. Your new normal.

MJ disappeared, excused herself and got inside the bathroom beside her. You didn’t know what to do next, so your legs mindlessly brought you to the crowded kitchen, grabbing another slice of pizza.

“Is it just me or something smells rotten?”

His voice, like a deceitful man, rang around your ears. You felt like you were about to explode, the blood inside you boiling as he appeared beside you like a Devil in disguise. Rolling your eyes, you sucked your cheeks in before giving him a forced smile.

“Ah, so you are a dog. Smelling things from afar and whatnot.”

“Do you ever shower? Or is that just the grease from the kitchen I smell?”

“Did it ever occur to you that the grease you’re smelling is from your shirt?”

“What grease?”

Your fingers, previously holding your pizza, dragged itself on the side of his shirt. Peter yelped, eyes widening when you touched him. You smiled when you spotted the imprint of your fingers that he was now wiping with a towel. “Thanks for the tissue.”

Still rubbing the spot, he sneered at you. “You’re disgusting.”

“Learned from the best.”

“Who? The blonde senior you slept with? Or the guy with the mullet who sells beer at the store near campus?”

Your eyes widened, but not in offense (if you were being honest, you would be offended if it were MJ or any other friend, but it was kind of shocking when Peter said it). “How’d you know about that mullet guy?”

“I have my ways,” he shrugged, taking a sip from the cup in his hand. “Honestly, don’t you have to look for something interesting to do?”

“Oh, like being Spider-Man is interesting?” You raised a brow, taking a bite from your pizza despite losing your appetite the second he came. “You’re a new type of stupid.”

His head tilted sideways, placing his elbow on the kitchen counter to look at you. Peter smiled, with a hint of nervosity, and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. He contemplated on saying that no, being Spider-Man is fun. But he remembered that he was still denying the truth to you, and he wasn’t about to prove you right. “For the last time, sweetheart, I’m not Spider-Man.”

You chewed on your pizza, looking at him. “You wanna bet?”

Peter continued to stare into your eyes, like it didn’t spend half of his life burning him alive. But he didn’t care – he liked the burn. He liked anything your eyes gave him, threw at him, said to him. If it meant getting your attention, he’d endure that imaginative fire scalding his skin.

“Sure,” he whispered, finger dragging along the skin of your neck, pushing the hair away. “If you have me saying a secret of mine by midnight, I’ll tell you the truth and everything that comes with it.”

You raised your eyebrow. “And if I don’t?”

He smiled. “I get to kiss you.”

Your mouth parted.

You wondered if the iceberg you created between the two of you had melted from the heat of the fire your eyes lit on his body; if it melted and created a puddle beneath you so you’d blunder in your thoughts.

Peter Parker wanted to kiss you.

No, he doesn’t. He’s a cocky bitch with an ego as big as his ears.

Peter Parker created a game in his masquerade; He was so foolishly cynical in himself that he’d end up unmasking in his own play. He knew that, and you might have known that too but at that moment you didn’t, because all you could think about was the brevity of your breath the second you imagined his lips on yours during your demise.

You wanted to back down, maybe even tell him he can go fuck himself. But you weren’t like that – you wanted to fight a war he’d most definitely lose in. So that he’d be the one looking up at you, calling you his queen, and you'd be lost in your own pious ataraxis.

It was a quintessentially monarchical thought, but why not.

“Deal.”

Literally just made a deal with the devil. Kind of fucking nervous.

You offered your hand for him to shake, but instead he placed his soft lips on the skin of your knuckles, remaining eye-contact. “Can’t wait to kiss you, pretty girl.”

Peter smirked when your small smile disappeared. You fought the urge to place both your hands on his face and slam his head on the counter, breaking his nose. Instead, you gathered up the courage to smile again, tilting your head.

“And I can’t wait to tell everyone that you’re Spider-Man,” maybe you were drunk, maybe you weren’t, but you didn’t mean that. You knew that if he were ever to tell you that he was Spider-Man, you wouldn’t tell anyone. But you enjoyed seeing him get anxious and feel the sweat in his hands knowing you caught him off guard.

You pat his cheek before walking away.

-

“Flash, I’m not your mom. Stop begging me for attention.”

Peter almost laughed when he heard you say that, but his eyes narrowed at your failed attempt to shove Flash’s arm off your shoulders. “That was mean,” Flash said, pouting. “Just join us, (y/n)!”

The drink in his hand was stagnant now. Peter grimaced at the bland taste, throwing the substance into the sink. But he didn’t know which grossed him more: his drink that he was sure had a hotdog thrown into before he took it, or that Flash was weirdly holding you in his arms, pulling you into the living room, and that you were letting him touch you like that.

“Dude,” Ned hissed in his ear for the third time, narrowing his eyes. “The longer you stare at them, the more you’re being obvious.”

Peter frowned, standing straighter. He wanted to be oblivious (“what do you mean obvious ?”) but he figured Ned would have just told him what he didn’t want to hear at the moment. “S-sorry.”

“C’mon man, just talk to her.” Ned pushed his shoulder. “There’s no harm in telling her the truth. Well, the Spider-Man one, maybe. But that you like her? What’s the worst that could come?”

“Rejection?”

“…right…”

He shook his head. He didn’t know why he made that bet in the first place. Peter was in the spur of the moment; he wasn’t thinking straight, and he blamed it on the alcohol. But who was he kidding? He wasn’t even at least half dunk.

He blamed it on you. Not because you probably knew that he was Spider-Man, but because you had the most exquisite and alluring eyes he’s ever seen that he felt like he had just gotten hypnotized into making the bet – a bet he knew he’d renounce his heart in.

Peter sometimes didn’t enjoy what your eyes did to him. Whether it was roasting him alive, or making him helpless in the knees; your eyes always made him anxious, and quite often, had him making stupid decisions. But he liked it when you looked at him, regardless of what your eyes currently signified.

He liked it so much that he couldn’t help but stare directly into your eyes that were glaring at him from across the room drunkenly. It tore his concentration away from Flash, who still stood beside you.

“Hey,” Ned nudged him. “They’re playing Seven Minutes in Heaven in the living room. Come on.”

He dragged his arm before Peter could protest. He sat opposite from you, cautiously eyeing the bottle in the middle of the carpet as people gathered around him.

11:52

Peter could feel his skin sweat from the watch wrapped around his wrist. Flash sat beside you, hand on the bottle.

“This game is for middle schoolers,” he heard you mutter underneath your breath. Flash frowned, fingers playing with the glass.

“Didn’t you suggest this?” he said softly, looking at you.

“What? No, Cindy suggested it.”

“Then why’d you agree with her?”

“Because – just spin the fucking bottle and let’s get this over with.”

He shrugged, followed by a wry chuckle as his wrist twisted and the bottle spun. Peter didn’t know why, but his senses heightened in anticipation, watching as the glass spun unevenly against the carpet.

When it slowed and landed on him, his eyes immediately darted to yours.

You weren’t looking at him.

“Parker!” Flash bellowed. “Get in the fucking closet!”

Peter’s eyes widened, moving backwards. “What? Why? I don’t want to go in there.”

He stood up nonetheless. Peter didn't know why, but he felt himself blush when Flash had grabbed your arm and hauled you up for you to stand, pushing you towards the closet.

“Hey, what the fuck?” you hissed, rubbing your shoulder as you glared at Flash. “I do not consent-”

“Blah blah,” he cut you off. “You suggested the game, you go in first.”

“But- Cindy suggested it!”

Cindy looked at Flash in faux-innocence, shrugging. “No, I didn’t. You did. Right, Flash?”

You gasped, tugging on your arm but no matter how much you tugged, Flash kept his grip on you. “Stop gaslighting me!”

Peter was roughly forced into the closet. He didn’t know why he let himself be pushed like that. He could have effortlessly opposed back, but maybe the idea of you being stuck with him in a small expanse made his body unexpectedly go limp and he decided not to fight back.

You fought back, however. Something about being stuck in a room with the person you loathed the most made you want to hurl, albeit it was a way for you to have an opportunity to win the bet. You knew you had him encased around your finger; you’ve seen the way he looks at you and you knew what your stare does to him. It made you feel emphatic, no doubt, and you knew you could easily make him fold but you just couldn’t stand being in a small room with him.

It had gotten to a point where Flash had to wrap his arms around you and carry you inside while Peter stood watching like a fucking idiot.

Flash closed the door, and neither of you heard the sound of the lock snapping.

You glared at Peter. It became a habit - glaring at him. And even though he enjoyed your murderous gaze, it almost always caught him off-guard. “I fucking hate you.”

“I’m honored,” he leaned closer, bending slightly so his eyes met yours directly, “to be fucking hated by you.”

11:53 was on Peter’s watch, signifying that you’ve only been with him for a minute. It felt ironic, really, that he was with you six minutes before New Year inside a closet - it felt ironic because you’re supposed to spend it with your family but instead here he was, in a closet with you.

He felt his chest compress when he recognised how tight both of you were. The tips of your shoes abutted, and he could feel the faint touch of your chest against his. You were both so close but Peter felt as if you were far away from him - incapable for him to touch; to sense.

Peter frowned when you shifted uncomfortably and pushed yourself off the wall, not even caring that your forehead now touched the fabric of his shirt. Your eyes warily darted on each corner of the room, and he could sense how your heart beat rose each look you took.

“Are you alright?” he asked genuinely. “Are you claustrophobic?”

You looked at him, the glare in your eyes softened the slightest as you leaned backward. “No. I’m Peter phobic.”

His jaw tightened. “That’s a made up word, dumbass.”

“All words are made up, dumbass ,” you mocked. “God, you’re such a fucking know-it-all.”

“And you’re so fucking infuriating!” he hissed, eyebrows furrowing in frustration. “Why can’t you just be fucking nice even for seven-fucking-minutes?! Being mean to me the entire fucking time isn’t going to make time faster.”

Your eyes narrowed, jutting your chin upwards. “How can I not be mean if you’re being pretentious?”

Peter scoffed, arms flinging. “What do you mean pretentious ?!”

Despite the thickness of his shirt, it pricked his skin when your nail dug on his chest. “You act like you’re such an angel when in reality you’re a pretentious, purposely self-effacing person. Not to mention the fact that you’re annoyingly meretricious and I can’t see why people praise you for being a smartass without even them knowing who you really are,” you took a step closer. “I may sound like I’m jealous, or I’m a bitch, but I don’t care. You’re a liar, Peter Parker.”

Your remarks didn’t hurt, but the look on your face did - you looked like you were on the cusp of crying, seeming like you genuinely hated him for being himself. It appeared as if you hated him because he was selfless and he didn’t know why. “Why do you hate me for it, then?”

“Because I envy how you can be so selfless and I can’t,” you whispered. “We’ve gone through the same shit and somehow people praise you for being a better person than I am.”

11:55

He took a deep breath for your pause. “(y/n), did it ever occur to you that you don’t actually know me?”

“And did it ever occur to you that I know you’re an asshole?” you snapped. “I hate you because you were mean to me and I was the only person to actually see you for who you were. And yet I was still seen as the bad guy-”

“Just,” he put a hand over your mouth to shut you up, and you let him, your arms going up to tightly grasp his forearm. “Let me explain, please?”

He didn’t wait for you to nod your head nor shake it to respond to him. Peter slowly removed his hand over your mouth, settling them faintly against your waist. “I-I wasn’t nice to you because I was afraid.”

If it was possible, Peter could feel you relax but tense at the same time. “Afraid of what?” you whispered, your eyes darting from his right eye to his left. “Afraid of me?”

“What- no! I- I was afraid of how much I’d be attached to you.” he replied. “I was afraid because everyone that was important to me died and I didn’t want you to be one of them.”

“What do you mean…?”

“You’re an angel,” he whispered, the sides of his fingers lightly brushing the hair out of your face, lingering there for a bit. “You’re an angel and it’s hard not to fall for you. And I know that if I let you too much into my life, you’d end up hurt and I’ll regret that for the rest of my life.”

11:57

Somehow, you ended up with your hands on his chest, blinking rapidly. “Half of my life, I spent it hating you.”

“Then hate me,” he grabbed your hand, kissing your palm. “Hate me for the rest of your life, and I’ll love you for the rest of mine.”

You looked up. A moratorium on your heart, you repeated his words in your head like a mantra-like a poetry you ought to remember. You were an indecisive person, stuck between hating and loving Peter Parker.

But hating him was easier - it was your own special way of loving him.

11:59

It was now 30 seconds before the new year and you spent the past minute staring into his deceitful eyes that scanned your lips repeatedly.

You could feel his heart beating against the palm of your hand. Something about it felt calming, feeling it beat simultaneously as yours. The benign rhythm proposed at the exceptional moment. They relied on each other to create the most exquisitely dynamic scenery one ought to bestow upon; the sound was inevitably pleasant to the ears that it felt like a composition of operatic music.

His heart beat relied on yours, so he could keep loving you for as long as he lived.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispered, leaning closer. Nose bumping yours and lips touching at the faintest.

“But I won,” you said with a small smile. Peter’s hand gripped the one on top of his heart, his other cupping your soft cheek. “You told me a secret.”

“But I want to kiss you,” Peter replied, tracing your jawline. “I want to kiss you for the rest of my life, and I want you to hate me for it.”

You nodded. “Oh, I’ll totally hate you for it.”

When Peter heard the clamorous sound of the fireworks demolishing outside, he felt the fireworks inside him ignite too as he placed his lips against yours in a swift motion, lips moving at each explosion. He told himself that it didn’t matter how much you hated him, or how much you wanted to physically hurt him. He’d keep loving you despite what you do to him.

You broke his heart a million times.

And still, he kissed you while the world fell.

༻✦༺ . ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ . ༻✧༺

💖💖💖

The Disappearing Act

Peter Parker x Teen!Female!Reader

What’s a hero without a villain? The early-days of “Spider-Man” come to light as he fights off his very first foe, a girl with the ability to disappear.

Peter didn’t know what to do anymore.

How was he supposed to fight someone he couldn’t see? He was punching blind, running into dark alleys with no real sense of direction. He could hear her laugh, cackle, tease and taunt from all directions, and it made him feel weak.

What was he thinking? Was he truly ready to fight against a world crawling with evil? This girl wasn’t even the full strength that the Avengers had ever fought off, yet he was incapable of laying a single finger on her. He’d only ever caught a glimpse of her face, but even that wasn’t enough to identify her.

“What’s wrong, Spider-Boy? Have you given up already?~”

Peter’s face twisted into a deep frown. His emotions were bubbling away; conflicted between continuing with the facade of confidence and determination, or breaking into an obvious frustration and scream out loud. He couldn’t keep chasing after an enemy he couldn’t physically see.

What was he supposed to do?

There was a pause of silence; it felt so thick that Peter found it hard to breathe. The cold night air tickled his cheeks through the knitted fibres of his mask, making him feel slightly numb. He tried to conceal a shiver by roughly looking around, but it only caused him to strain and pull a muscle. How awkward.

Then, Peter heard a sigh from the left. Somewhere above him, hiding on the fire escape that lead into a closed-down restaurant. “Come on, I’m getting bored. Do a flip or something.”

“Is that why you’re doing all this?” Peter shouted, his eyes squinting and searching the darkness for some sort of movement. He could hear the faint creaks and squeaks of the rusted metal, the structure groaning under the added pressure of this strange girl. It was an old building, so no doubt the fire escape hadn’t been checked for safety in a long time.

“Hm?” A pause of quiet again. A moment to breathe. A moment to observe. “Doing what?”

Peter watched as something shuffled forwards, a fabric of sorts nearing into the light. Thank God the city had street lights that reflected far and wide, even if it was dim, it gave him enough of a spotlight to catch sight of something. He knew she was crouched above him, possibly holding onto the rail.

If he could get a clear enough shot to web her to the wall…

“Breaking into places… is it because you’re bored?” Peter knew he needed to drag out a conversation, long enough to keep this girl distracted. The longer she stayed engaged in a conversation, the better chance he had at succeeding. That’s how the hero’s in movies did this type of stuff, right? Through distraction?

The girl laughed; it was a light laugh that echoed through the narrow alley, and it sounded sincere. “And why do you chase after me, Spider-Boy? Have you also succumbed to boredom?”

There was another shuffle, and soon enough a hand broke through the darkness. Slim fingers wrapped around the metal railing, gripping tight. Peter felt his heart skip a beat in excitement, his breath hitched inside his throat as he quickly extended an arm and aimed at the limb.

A web shot out, shooting through the darkness and towards its target.

Bullseye.

“What… ew, gross!”

Peter wasted no more time as he sprung into action. He leapt upwards and grasped the bottom of the ladder, hastily hoisting himself onto the first platform. The structure shuddered under his weight, but he ignored the way it practically shivered. He twisted his body around and jumped onto the railing, using it as a boost up to the second level.

He listened closely to the sound of his target grunting and whining in disgust and frustration; she was tugging and pulling at the webbing, but Peter was positive it’d stay sticky long enough for him to capture her properly.

Peter flipped up to the third and final level, his feet planting firmly. He turned his eyes towards the girl on her knees, one hand glued to the railing and the other desperately clawing at the web. Her panic increased as he neared closer, close enough to kneel beside her.

He did it.

“Not so smug now, are you?” Peter muttered, a satisfied grin breaking across his face. Now that he was looking closer, he could finally see her facial features better.

And damn, she was beautiful.

A murderous glare twisted across her face, eyes so sharp it could slice Peter into millions of pieces. She looked almost feral, unafraid to cut a bitch. “What the fuck is this made out of?” She questioned lowly, her voice on the verge of a growl.

Peter looked between the webbing and her. “Just… just some stuff I made.”

“Good to know it’s not coming out of you.” Her eyes drifted back to the alley, looking almost distant.

Quiet fell among the two, and Peter suddenly felt awkward. Now that he had captured this girl, after a few days of zero sleep and intricate trap designs (which wasn’t actually very detailed), Peter didn’t know who he was supposed to hand the girl over to.

The police? No, Peter had dropped hints to them on multiple occasions. It was because of their lack of interest that Peter had involved himself so quickly. This girl had broken into many establishments without leaving a single trace, or a single clue as to how she had done it. She was skilled, too clever for the police.

The Avengers? That just felt too extreme. They dealt with “end-of-the-world” business, not petty thieving.

Then again, this wasn’t petty thieving…

“Why are you just sitting there?”

Peter’s attention snapped back to the girl, his stomach twisting with butterflies at the intense eye-contact. Her nose scrunched slightly.

“I—uh, what?” He stammered.

The girl rolled her eyes. “You caught me, so why are you just sitting there? Aren’t you going to hand me over to the police or something?”

So it was obvious that Peter didn’t know what to do. Perhaps if he contacted the police then they’d know some sort of special forces that could contain this girl properly? Right, that seemed like a more reasonable option.

There was no way that humans with incredible gifts were making appearances all over the country and the government weren’t creating a containment plan. They constantly had backup plans.

“I, yeah, no, I was totally about to contact the police,” Peter confirmed. He stood to his full high and shuffled back, digging his hand into his pocket and pulling out his phone. He unlocked it and skimmed towards the dial pad and held the device to his ear, listening to the dial tone briefly.

Peter only looked away for a second, but when his eyes landed on the exact same spot as the girl had previously been sitting, he came to the indescribable horror that she was gone.

Peter ended the call with zero hesitation, a string of swears leaving his lips as his eyes darted around the area.

Where did she go?

A sharp whistle drew his attention further up the building. Leaning over the edge, waving playfully and shooting Peter a small wink, the girl flaunted her freedom.

“That was fun, we should do this again sometime!” She hollered loudly. “See you around, Spidey!”

And with Peter’s intense gaze glued to her form, he watched as she vanished before his very eyes. She just disappeared, no warning, no aftermath; just gone.

Peter stood rather dumbfounded for a minute longer, allowing time to process what had transpired. He was so close. Why had he hesitated in contacting the police? If he had been just slightly more efficient in his motive, then he would have surely been successful. Right?

But this wouldn’t be his final encounter with this girl. He knew they’d meet again.

there is only one sentence you need to know as a manifestor:

the 3D/physical world isn’t real. only the mind is.

disclaimers:

this is slightly rant-y though i don’t attack you, i uplift you

excuse any grammar errors!

credit to all the artists whose art was used!

let’s get into it.

you do not exist/live in the 3D, you simply perceive your own mind and assumptions in three dimensions. the 3D is an illusion. it isn’t real. the phone you’re reading this on, your surroundings, me writing this post, “other” people, they’re not real.

this will literally answer all the questions you have about LOA. examples include:

“what if what i’m doing won’t make anything manifest in the 3D?” then boo-fucking-hoo? it wouldn’t even matter because that’s not where you live. you’re 4-dimensional. if it’s happened in the 4D, it’s fucking happened! put it in your success story list. rejoice now that it’s happened. because it has! the 3D is NOT real, the 4D is so you should be checking the 4D! think about this question: “what if it doesn’t manifest in the 2D (a world of only length and width)?” i bet you’re like “womp womp? the fuck would that have to do with me? i don’t live there!” give that SAME energy to the 3D.

“where is it in the 3D?” why do you care? it’s not where you live. CONSCIOUSNESS is the only reality. you heard me. you shouldn’t give a fuck about whether it will manifest in the 3D or not because the 3D doesn’t determine reality, YOU do. why do you want confirmation from an illusion when you can have confirmation from what’s actually real?

“but if i stop caring about whether it’ll manifest or not, it might not manifest!” first of all, womp womp then? you don’t live there. in the 3D. second of all, that’s literally impossible unless you directly/intentionally assume that it’s the case. the 3D literally EXISTS as a reflection/limited perception of the mind. it’s LAW that it will come. and the last time i checked, “i don’t care whether it comes or not” and “it won’t come” are different statements. but what i just find so hilarious about this one specific doubt is that you’ve literally just PROVEN your THOUGHTS create the 3D.

“i can’t manifest abc! it goes against the laws of physics/circumstances etc” lemme just get this straight. the MIND is the only reality yet you are lying and saying it has limits based off of 3D “law”? and the 3D is not real meaning the “laws” of the 3D aren’t either? the 3D doesn’t and will never be able to tell the mind what to do. that being said, you can manifest pissing a million bucks, teleporting into a villa in italy or becoming wanda fucking maximoff and developing superpowers. you can manifest hulk hogan flying across the pacific to your door and proposing to you, hell, you can even manifest BECOMING hulk hogan. you can manifest your SPs buying you three million bentleys then making out with you in each of them. you. can. manifest. ANYTHING. you. can. manifest. anything. you. can. imagine. you’re OMNIPOTENT.

this one is very interesting cause it’s a response to doubts! “if i keep doubting, it won’t show up in the 3D!” the reason your doubts persist is because your mind thinks they actually mean shit and are an issue worth addressing. so what if it doesn’t show up in the 3D? it’s already happened.

“but what if im one of the odd ones out? what if i can’t manifest?” despite the fact that it’s scientific law, the rebuttal for this doubt is very simple. you wouldn’t be alive lmao. being alive is a constant act of the 3D reflecting your mind, that’s literally its only purpose. it’s an inanimate, mindless, limited perception of your mind that instantly conforms to your beliefs. you are CONSTANTLY manifesting. what you’re doing is just learning how to control WHAT you manifest. (just to set the record straight. this doesn’t mean you are to blame for your problems since you didn’t consciously choose them).

“the 3D isn’t showing me what i want!” well it isn’t real lmao? why the fuck would that matter?

one of the WORST beliefs you can have as a manifestor is that the goal of manifesting is changing the 3D. i know you (probably) came in thinking that but i want you to shed that belief. the 3D is not real. the goal is to get it in the 4D, where you live. when you accomplish that goal, rejoice and move on.

this is why i very, VERY heavily dislike the statement that “an assumption persisted in will harden into fact”. no, an assumption IS a fact. only regarding something as real when it manifests in the 3D (which isn’t real) is fallacious.

“thoughts create reality” i bet you’ve heard this before in this community but i don’t like this either for this simple reason: thoughts (that you accept) ARE reality.

my biggest piece of advice to you as a manifestor is this: realize that the 3D doesn’t mean shit.

when you DO get your manifestation in the 3D, it’s perfectly fine to be happy but don’t jump up and down saying “it’s finally happened (in reality)!”. NO. it happened in reality ages ago, the 3D just caught up.

i’m gonna link some really sexy posts that will help you understand this better. most of these are scientific.

https://www.reddit.com/r/NevilleGoddard/s/AmlHe5oipA (the post is up, i don’t understand why tumblr won’t embed it)

if you liked this post, leave a like, reblog, engage, follow, let me know if this helped 🫶😭

YAAAAASSSSSSSS 💖💖💖💖

anyway, reblog if…

a) you’re in the mcu spiderman fandom

b) you ship spideychelle

c) you’re an irondad fan

i really need more mutuals. and, as usual, stark*r shippers DO NOT INTERACT. I’ll block you if you do

How To Finally Shift If You’ve Been Trying For 2+ Years

⚠️ Little warning before we begin: don’t get scared off! I might sound a little negative at first, but that’s not the point of this post. My goal is for you to reach the end of this and think “Oh, I’m definitely going to shift to my DR now!”

Having said that:

If you’ve been on your shifting journey for two or more years, doing methods, reprogramming your mind, consuming advice, maintaining a mental diet, manifesting, forcing assumptions, trying to create assumptions, etc, etc⏤and you still haven’t shifted your awareness to your DR, maybe it’s time to stop trying to make yourself shift.

Stop trying to shift.

Stop trying to trigger a shift.

Maybe the thing you need at this point in your journey is to stop trying to make yourself shift.

And I’ll explain why by asking you a question:

In these two, three, four, however many years of effort, don’t you think you would have shifted by now?

Think about it. You’ve oversaturated your mind with the intention to shift. You do all your methods correctly. You try to convince yourself that you're already in your DR. You feel symptoms. Sometimes you even "mini shift." And yet… you're still here. Doing the same things. Searching for advice that leads you right back to doing the same thing:

Trying to shift. Trying to trigger a shift. Trying to shift your awareness.

Trying.

Trying confidently.

Trying hopelessly.

Trying angrily.

…Trying.

If you were going to shift by inducing a shift, triggering a shift, or successfully shifting with a method, it would have happened by now.

“But Clover, I still have a lot of soul-searching and work to do! I just need to put in more effort!”

Awesome! Then click away, because this advice isn’t for you. I’m not talking to you.

I’m talking to the person who is tired. Who is drained. Who, despite applying all the sage advice on the internet, is just burnt out from the process of shifting.

And if that sounds like you, let me repeat: Maybe you need to stop actively trying to shift.

Your work is done. And that’s a good thing.

You’ve spent years ingraining the idea of shifting into your subconscious. You’ve impressed the intention to shift so deeply that it’s already there. Congratulations! You did all the mental work. It’s done.

Your DR is already yours. You already have the ability to shift.

So stop trying to trigger it. Stop trying to make yourself shift.

Let go of the “making yourself shift” process.

“Oh my god, she’s going to tell me to take a break.”

LMAO you thought.

Yes, breaks are excellent. They help reset and recharge your mindset. I always encourage taking breaks if you need them. But let’s be honest. Sometimes, even the thought of taking a break feels just as mentally exhausting as staying on your shifting journey.

“Oh no, she’s going to tell me to do nothing at all.”

Once again, you thought.

Instead, you’re going to capitalize on the fact that you’ve already done all this work. The intention to shift is always, always, always in your mind. Your subconscious knows you want to shift. Just like it knows how to shift your awareness.

So, the next time you lay down to do your shifting process...

Instead of trying to shift…

Instead of trying to induce a shift, induce the void, or force an outcome…

Give yourself exactly what you want.

Give yourself the feeling of being in your DR.

Drop the conscious, active intention to shift because your subconscious already has it covered. You don’t need to keep hammering it in. Instead, focus on inducing the emotions you would feel if you were in your DR.

Imagine waking up in your DR. Imagine being there. Imagine spending time with your DR friends, your S/O, whatever makes you happiest. Personally, I lean toward wake-up scenarios. You can listen to music, meditate, visualize, even do a shifting method if you enjoy it—but instead of doing it with the intention to shift, you’re doing it just to give your body and mind the feeling of being there. The happiness, the calm, the excitement, whatever it is for you.

This does not mean you’re lying there thinking, “Okay, this is going to make me shift.”

No. No, no, no, no, no.

Drop the idea of shifting entirely. That process is done.

And I’ll say it one more time:

If you were going to shift by inducing a shift, making yourself shift, or triggering a shift, it would have happened already.

So let it go. Drop it.

Induce the emotions of being in your DR, and then let go. Once you do that, go to sleep. Or go about your day. That’s it.

So why does this actually make you shift?

Because feeling is the language of the subconscious.

Think about it: The moments in your life that shaped you the most weren’t just things you thought. They were things you felt deeply. Joy, fear, excitement, grief. Emotions imprint on the subconscious. That’s why certain smells, songs, or places instantly bring back vivid memories. Because your subconscious records experiences based on emotions, not logic.

So when you stop trying to shift and instead just focus on feeling like you’re in your DR, your subconscious responds by aligning your awareness to match that emotional state.

Because to the subconscious, there’s no difference between imagination and reality. When you visualize something vividly enough, your brain fires the same neurons as if you were actually experiencing it. Athletes use this trick to enhance performance. Musicians use it to refine their skills. And guess what? It works for shifting too.

When you let go of the effort and just immerse yourself in the emotions of already being there, you bypass the resistance that trying creates.

And that’s when the shift happens.

It happens because you stopped forcing it.

It happens because your subconscious already knows how to shift, you just needed to get out of its way.

So, again, drop the struggle. Drop the effort. Stop trying to shift.

The more precise or perfect you want the shift to be, the more pressure you put on yourself. Your brain rebels against that because rigid control drains energy.

Remember this:

High Emotion + Low Attachment = Flow.

When you feel something strongly but aren’t clinging to the result, your subconscious has room to act. This is why sometimes, when you care less or focus on something in a passing, emotional way, it manifests easily.

This is why people can give up on shifting entirely and shift. This is why people let go of the need to shift and shift. This is why you shift without meaning to.

You: “No, I can’t do this! I need to keep trying to shift or else my subconscious will think I don’t want to shift anymore!”

Me:

*As always, take what resonates, discard what doesn’t, because we’re all different people who need to hear different things :)

I thought about that too!!!!!! 💖💖💖

Just a thought but Peter Parker dating Kingpin's daughter