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@itsnotaonesie-blog
"Kid. forget the bird guy."
“I can’t,” Peter said, looking up at his mentor with pleading eyes, “I can handle him, I promise.”
“Kid If you die I’m going to blame myself. You aren’t even 18 yet..” he frowned at his protégé. :please… forget him.“
Peter said nothing, considering his actions. There was no way that he was going to give it up, but he didn’t know whether it was best to lie to Mr. Stark or be unashamed. “Okay.”
[ ❢ ]
from here | [ ❢ ] my muse discovers yours all bloodied and bruised.
Peter just wanted one day to relax. One. Was that so hard? Apparently it was, since when he got the door, it wasn’t the pizza guy. Instead, it was his friend, covered in cuts and bruises. “Oh my god, what happened to you?”
Peter gave her a long stare, knowing that she wasn’t going to give in, before smiling. “Fine, fine, okay! I will leave the webs at home for a week!”
Jenna grinned as he agreed, “really! Oh Peter we’re going to have so much fun!” Jenna explained, placing her cup down as she went to hug him. “You don’t have to leave the webs, I’m sure we could find…. other uses for them.” Jenna added, biting her lip.
“You...have a very dirty mind,” he grinned, reciprocating the hug. “So, where were you thinking?”
Turf War
“Yeah, and I could’ve been another feral, but I’m not. They had a choice. And they chose wrong.”
“They lacked guidance…how else are they supposed to know any better?” She muttered.
“They were human only a few days ago. Murder’s still wrong, no matter what species you are.”
“F-fuck… no…” he mumbled softly, cheeks burning as he moaned softly, leaning a little against Peter. “S-still a dumb outfit though.”
“You’re damn right it is,” he grinned, kissing again.
Restrained+ 11 (because having more than one thread is fun)
from here | 11. Trapped in a tomb or mausoleum
“Great,” he muttered, “Just great.” He looked around the dusty ruins that were now their prison and coughed as dead person fumes entered his mouth.
“I’ll have to think about it,” he said slowly, before peeling his shirt off and stripping the rest. He entered the shower, enjoying the close proximity with Gwen.
Gwen grinned and grabbed the soap and started to wash up before smirking lightly and pulling him closer so she could wash him too.
Peter grinned as he was pulled close. He held Gwen’s waist, enjoying the way their bodies slid against one another. Let’s just say he could feel himself gettign excited.
Gwen started to wash him down her fingers teasing the V of his hip bones, the soap soon following. She knew what effect she had on him, and loved it. In fact the blond moved in so they pressed together more, and stole a kiss.
“You’re killing me here,” he moaned, before grabbing her behind and massaging it, “Stop teasing,”
Gwen groaned softly and returned the favor by stroking his length, her hand still abit soapy so it slid.
Peter wordlessly moaned, before moving his hands around her, using the soap as lubricant as he began fingering her slowly, quickly increasing in pace.
Gwen shuddered and moaned, her head against the shower wall as he touched her. “F-fuck.” She muttered, her fingers not missing a stroke. It felt so good, her hips bucked abit.
Peter grinned as he felt himself coming close, speeding up his hand and going in for a kiss, closing his eyes as water rushed over his face.
Gwen kissed him back. Her sounds muted because of the kiss. “Pete… fuck me…please.”
Peter didn’t say anything, simply nodding as he began to line himself up with her vagina, before sliding his dick in.
Turf War
“Yeah, and I could’ve been another feral, but I’m not. They had a choice. And they chose wrong.”
Restrained+ 11 (because having more than one thread is fun)
from here | 11. Trapped in a tomb or mausoleum
“Great,” he muttered, “Just great.” He looked around the dusty ruins that were now their prison and coughed as dead person fumes entered his mouth.
“I’ll have to think about it,” he said slowly, before peeling his shirt off and stripping the rest. He entered the shower, enjoying the close proximity with Gwen.
Gwen grinned and grabbed the soap and started to wash up before smirking lightly and pulling him closer so she could wash him too.
Peter grinned as he was pulled close. He held Gwen’s waist, enjoying the way their bodies slid against one another. Let’s just say he could feel himself gettign excited.
Gwen started to wash him down her fingers teasing the V of his hip bones, the soap soon following. She knew what effect she had on him, and loved it. In fact the blond moved in so they pressed together more, and stole a kiss.
“You’re killing me here,” he moaned, before grabbing her behind and massaging it, “Stop teasing,”
Gwen groaned softly and returned the favor by stroking his length, her hand still abit soapy so it slid.
Peter wordlessly moaned, before moving his hands around her, using the soap as lubricant as he began fingering her slowly, quickly increasing in pace.
Gwen shuddered and moaned, her head against the shower wall as he touched her. “F-fuck.” She muttered, her fingers not missing a stroke. It felt so good, her hips bucked abit.
Peter grinned as he felt himself coming close, speeding up his hand and going in for a kiss, closing his eyes as water rushed over his face.
@itsnotaonesie
Elliot froze completely, staring at him in utter bewilderment. “You.. what? Really?” He asked, genuinely confused by the idea of someone wanting him for more than just sex. “But you wouldn’t be satisfied.”
“I lived my whole life up to you without any of this satisfaction,” he replied, smiling, “I can take a bit of a cut for you.”
“Maybe you should explore before you settle for me then. I-I’m not…” he swallowed hard, never sure what to say when Peter smiled at him like that since it just made him go all shy and bright red. “O-okay.”
“Nope, I’m not listening,” he said, pecking Elliot on the cheek, “It’s my choice, and I choose you.”
“Ive never felt more like pikachu.” Elliot noted, giggling because he always when he got really nervous. “I’m so grateful to have you…”
“You’re damn right you are,” he said, desire in his voice. “Now, any objections?” he asked, before resuming pumping Elliot’s dick.
"Kid. forget the bird guy."
“I can’t,” Peter said, looking up at his mentor with pleading eyes, “I can handle him, I promise.”
❅
Send me ❅ to find my muse out in the cold, under-dressed and almost passing out from hypothermia.
“Oh my God?” Okay. Nobody should look that bad in the cold. It wasn’t exactly a good kind of day, weather-wise, and Fitz had gone this way by chance on the way out of a (non-alcohol-based) trip from Rhee’s bar. So stumbling almost literally upon a scrawny, chilled-to-the-bone teenager was quite fortuitous. “Do you, do you need help? My car’s just, ehm, about a block, I can turn on the heat, help you get over there if you want?”
itsnotaonesie:
unaugmentedmonkeyscantfly:
“So,” Fitz said, having started the bathwater/laundry water running in the tub and squirting in a bit of dish soap. “Wha’s your name, anyway? I can’ really call you Captain Underpants, tha’s taken. I’m Fitz, by the way,” he added, brandishing the Dawn bottle slightly.
He tried to reach for a fake name, but none seemed to be coming to him so he relented, “My name’s Peter. Thanks for saving me Fitz.” He dwelled on the name for a few seconds before asking, “So is Fitz your first name? Is that, like, a Scottish thing?”
“What? No, i’s my last name, I’m not all tha’ fond of my given name.” He put the soap back in the kitchen, by the sink, before turning off the bathwater, deciding it was enough. “I’s too easy for people to make fun of, everyone either thinks of a nasty Belgian king or star’s makin’ zodiac jokes.” And it was Dad’s idea.
“Well,” he joked, making light of the situation, “I’m presuming you’re not called Gemini or Pisces.” He moved towards the bathroom door, “Honestly, you don’t have to go to this much trouble. Thank you.”
Restrained+ 11 (because having more than one thread is fun)
from here | 11. Trapped in a tomb or mausoleum
“Great,” he muttered, “Just great.” He looked around the dusty ruins that were now their prison and coughed as dead person fumes entered his mouth.
“I’ll have to think about it,” he said slowly, before peeling his shirt off and stripping the rest. He entered the shower, enjoying the close proximity with Gwen.
Gwen grinned and grabbed the soap and started to wash up before smirking lightly and pulling him closer so she could wash him too.
Peter grinned as he was pulled close. He held Gwen’s waist, enjoying the way their bodies slid against one another. Let’s just say he could feel himself gettign excited.
Gwen started to wash him down her fingers teasing the V of his hip bones, the soap soon following. She knew what effect she had on him, and loved it. In fact the blond moved in so they pressed together more, and stole a kiss.
“You’re killing me here,” he moaned, before grabbing her behind and massaging it, “Stop teasing,”
Gwen groaned softly and returned the favor by stroking his length, her hand still abit soapy so it slid.
Peter wordlessly moaned, before moving his hands around her, using the soap as lubricant as he began fingering her slowly, quickly increasing in pace.
Turf War
Peter raced after them, and he managed to get a hold of the vampire’s leg. He gave a tug and pulled the guy back down the alley. Feeling resistance, he took a clove of garlic from his pocket (something he always carried around) before pushing down his jeans, watching as he started writhing in pain.
Gwen hissed at the smell, but unlike the younger vampire that was giving them hell, it wasn’t as overwhelming to her. Her nails turned long and she returned the pain the youngling had given her from the bite. She slashed at his face.
The garlic was like acid to the vampire, and Peter could see smoke pouring from his trouser leg. The slash tore his face open, gaping wounds bleeding blood that wasn’t his. Peter joined in by stomping on his chest until he heard something crack. “The kill’s yours.”
Gwen responded by decapatiting the young vampire, ending his misery, and getting blood on her clothes but she sighed. “You know..they know this is going to happen. But they insist on it.”
He looked down at the headless corpse, sad, “Why can’t they just not be psychos? I mean, we adjusted pretty well.”
“Unfortunately many turnlings have no guidance and become this. Beating the odds isn’t such a normal thing anymore.” She admitted, jaw clenched at the thought as she started to haul the body. It seemed the vampire struggled with it abit, but that’s because she had more unpleasant thoughts roaming her mind.
“Come on, I’ll lend a hand,” Peter offered, before grabbing the corpse’s unbloodied legs and lifting, assisting Gwen, “So, where’s he going?”
“Same place yours did… the trash.” It wasn’t the first time she’d taken a life.. but it bothered her none the less. That could’ve been her.. “he’ll burn better than yours did though.”
“I’m relieved,” Peter joked, stroking her arm affectionately as he noticed her slightly dour tone, “Had to be done, okay?”
Restrained 7
from here | 7. Hand-cuffed to an object of their choice
“A wall?” Peter shouted after their captor, “You left us chained to a wall?!” He turned to Jenna, “On the count of three, let’s break this thing.”
Peter hopped lightly from the vent onto the ground, happy that he’d found a room without guards. He decided against moving, choosing instead to stay put until Jenna got to him.
[ ❢ ]
from here | [ ❢ ] my muse discovers yours all bloodied and bruised.
Peter just wanted one day to relax. One. Was that so hard? Apparently it was, since when he got the door, it wasn’t the pizza guy. Instead, it was his friend, covered in cuts and bruises. “Oh my god, what happened to you?”
Peter gave her a long stare, knowing that she wasn’t going to give in, before smiling. “Fine, fine, okay! I will leave the webs at home for a week!”
Wake Up Call | closed
Peter looked around himself, seeing clothes he recognised as his littering the floor. No shoes though, which suggested that he did indeed wallcrawl and they were at Simmons’ apartment. More frighteningly, he saw his boxers on the floor, a revelation that made him scoot a little further from Fitz.
He tried to think, and some details came back to him. “Um, I think I might have come to your place for drinks? Someone said something about the vodka in your sock drawer, that’s for definite.” He tousled his bed hair, one hand firmly covering his private region.
“Still don’t know why I was naked. And in your bed. That might be a secret lost to the night before.”
“Vodka? In my sock drawer?” Fitz repeated incredulously, his eyes squinched in disdain.
“First of all,” he began pedantically, crossing his arms over his chest, “if I, in fact, had liquor in my sock drawer, it would be a nice 18-year-old scotch—not bloody vodka.” He made a face that clearly indicated what he thought of that particular form of alcohol. Good for sterilizing wounds in a pinch was about it, as far as he was concerned.
Fitz hadn’t noticed that Peter was naked and when he brought it up, Fitz blinked in surprise. “Er, well, that might be,” he agreed to the idea that the secret might be lost. “Probably you should, ehm, well…let everyone know you’re all right,” he said, not wanting to demand that he get out of his bed even though he’d be far more comfortable once the other man was gone. But he was raised to be far too polite for that sort of nonsense.
Getting up himself, since he was still reasonably dressed, he smoothed his t-shirt over his stomach and then said, “Eh, since you’re here…tea? Or coffee? Perhaps some…aspirin? I’d offer food, but is your stomach in a fit state for it? Because I’ve got some groceries in if you feel like food.” Personally, he always felt like food but he’d never been drunk enough to black out and wake up naked in another person’s bed, either.
Peter could clearly see that Fitz was uncomfortable with his being there so he nodded at the suggestion to get up. Once Fitz had left the bed, he began stretching over the side, keeping his lower half firmly covered by duvet as he reached for his boxers.
At Fitz’ polite offerings, he shook his head. “Thanks, but no pills or food for me. I think there is just enough alcohol content in my stomach that your bed would be getting a fresh shade of vomit.” He squinted apologetically, “A cup of tea would be fantastic though please.”
His fingers were just about grazing the boxers, but whilst Fitz was in the room Peter didn’t want to leave the bed choosing instead to grasp at them in an effort to brush them towards him.
❅
Send me ❅ to find my muse out in the cold, under-dressed and almost passing out from hypothermia.
“Oh my God?” Okay. Nobody should look that bad in the cold. It wasn’t exactly a good kind of day, weather-wise, and Fitz had gone this way by chance on the way out of a (non-alcohol-based) trip from Rhee’s bar. So stumbling almost literally upon a scrawny, chilled-to-the-bone teenager was quite fortuitous. “Do you, do you need help? My car’s just, ehm, about a block, I can turn on the heat, help you get over there if you want?”
itsnotaonesie:
unaugmentedmonkeyscantfly:
“Keep me from what? I’m not riskin’ drivin’ out in that, not any distance. An’ you really shouldn’t risk worse hypothermia, either. We can watch whatever you want to on the telly while the clothes dry, I think there’s a pack of cards around here, too, or somethin’. Snowstorm’s stickin’ around, we may as well, too.” He’d picked out his grocery bag of dirty clothes and was walking towards the bathroom area, ready to wash them in the tub.
“Okay,” he said, sitting down on the couch. Look Peter, he thought, if you were gonna be killed you’d be dead by now. Just stop freaking out. Slightly more at ease, he grabbed the remote and started switching through the channels, settling on the news.
“So,” Fitz said, having started the bathwater/laundry water running in the tub and squirting in a bit of dish soap. “Wha’s your name, anyway? I can’ really call you Captain Underpants, tha’s taken. I’m Fitz, by the way,” he added, brandishing the Dawn bottle slightly.
He tried to reach for a fake name, but none seemed to be coming to him so he relented, “My name’s Peter. Thanks for saving me Fitz.” He dwelled on the name for a few seconds before asking, “So is Fitz your first name? Is that, like, a Scottish thing?”
Restrained 7
from here | 7. Hand-cuffed to an object of their choice
“A wall?” Peter shouted after their captor, “You left us chained to a wall?!” He turned to Jenna, “On the count of three, let’s break this thing.”
“Wait wait wait.” Jenna said, looking at the wall. She tapped it, finding it hollow but upon putting her ear up against it, she heard a ticking sound. “Don’t pull the chains.” She said quickly, her eyes wide and she looked down to the chain attached to her leg.
“Why don’t pull the chains?” he asked, suddenly alert and wary of what lay on the other side.
Jenna looked dow to the chain that clung to one of her legs. Lifting her other leg she stomped on the chain and broke it. “I think there’s a bomb.” She said as she went over and snapped Peters chain. “There’s a small ticking sound and that guy was clearly a hydra agent.”
“Oh,” he swallowed hard, “Don’t suppose you have any lockpicks with you? Utility belt or anything?”
“I could probably snap your chain off but I wouldn’t be able to get the clasp off your leg.” Jen said as she stomped her chain once more before it shattered.
“I can get the leg,” he said, before slowing lining up his heel to the cuff around his ankle and kicking. The metal shattered and it hurt his leg like a bitch but at least he was free.
Jen watched as he broke his clasp off, she smiled, her black eye mask moving as she smiled. “Okay, if we leave through the door there’s probably people guarding us…. so what do you suggest we do?” Jen asked, spotting an air vent in their room.
“The only way is up baby,” he said, resisting the urge to sing. He’d been stripped of his web-shooters but he could still jump high enough to reach it, pulling it away with ease.
The smile on her lips did not fail as she could sense his amusement in the statement. “You go up and I’ll break the door down.” Jenna suggested.
“Or you could just come up too and not get shot?” he offered in return.
“I’m sure my Shield bracelet isn’t being held too far away, I’ll be fine.” Jen promised “if it makes you feel any better I’ll take the door with me.”
He chuckled at the thought of her improvised weapon, before shaking his head, “Okay. See you outside.” He then jumped up and followed the vents.
