#peter m

[hallmark-movie-fanatics]

Mistletoe Murders Season 1, Episode 6 'Death of a Humbug - Part 2' - photo preview

Update: replaced photos 4-7, 11-12 and 14 with better quality images

[newlabourgroupie]

:)

[qslovebot]

Concussed: Peter Maximoff

summary: based on request for reader and Peter helping clean each other’s wounds, but with my twist of it being romantic, with slight sexual tension

pairing: Peter x Fem!Reader

warnings: kissing, mentions of blood/wounds, mild sexual tension

You sat across from Peter, who held an iced pack to a bruise that was forming on his cheekbone. His eyes met yours and he smiled, but only for a second. Only when he could. He was glad you were somewhat okay, as were you, him.

The smile was a good thing to think about until the jet landed and the people were moved out. Peter caught you before you could go. “Hey.”

“Hi.” You replied. Peter was a good friend, but he wasn’t a super close one, so the approach wasn’t off, it was more… rare. You liked him as a person and to be honest, you might have had a minor crush on him, but your head ached as well as your arm, you were both pretty fucked up.

“Would you mind helping me with bandages? Sounds pathetic, I know, but I really can’t move my-“ he went to gesture how he can’t really move his arms and in doing so, hurt himself. You didn’t mean to chuckle, but he let out a small laugh too. “All the medical people are busy, so… I’ll have to get my first aid things from my room.”

“Of course not. After you,” you nodded, limping slightly. You were battered up pretty badly, but he led the way and helped you up a few steps.

The solemn attitude was lifting. “Welcome to my room, please excuse everything.” He chuckled, opening the door with his foot. The room was an organized mess with a made bed. You kind of chuckled yourself at the fact he was twenty-something and part of the mess was a bunch of action figures. Mess aside though, it smelled nice, like air freshener.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, hissing in pain, stretching out as much as he could. He pressed his hand to his head to where he had a cut with near-dried blood. Something within your stomach burned at the sight, you blinked it off.

“My first aid stuff is in the bathroom,” he said. “I should probably go in there-“

“You’re looking pretty pale, I think you should just stay there,” you said. He bowed his head, then put it up again due to the cut on his forehead. You walked over to the washroom and found the big kit with ease- everyone had to have one if they were part of the team. “What hurts the most?”

“I think I’m concussed. Either that or you have a twin.” You turned quickly, but he smiled. “That was a joke. But I do think I’m concussed.” You shook your head, walking back to him and smiling a little. “You look just as bad.”

“Thank you,” you smiled. He smiled a little. “I need a full rundown of what I can help with.”

He nodded a little. “My head, you can see. I think I dislocated my shoulder, my upper chest here is fucked up and the rest are just bruises and scratches, I think. Pretty hot, right?”

“Mmm yeah,” you said, pulling out what you needed from the first aid kit. “I hate to ask this with the context of what you just said, but could you take off your top?”

“On the first date?” He joked. You sighed, blowing hair out of your face. “I would for you, but I don’t actually think I could if I tried. And I hate to ask this with the context what you just said, but could you take off my top?” He used your own line back at you, altered. You fought both a smile and a blush. That was a new feeling here.

You set down your things and carefully undid the straps around his neck. You were vaguely aware of how close your face was to his as you moved down his back, undoing the pieces that kept him in.

“You still smell good,” Peter said, “Despite the fight that almost took us all out.”

“Thank you,” you finally got all of them loose and pulled gently. He winced, but you were careful and slowly maneuvered it off of him. He hissed a few times, but stuck it out with his jaw clenched. “You okay?”

From the looks of it, he was not. He had a good scratch from his collarbone to his shoulder, a cut that bled through his undershirt on his chest, and bruising everywhere, along with more minor scratches. “Hurts, but I’ll be okay. I’m more worried about you, with that gash on your cheek…” he touched your cheek just a little and you turned away. Now was definitely not the time to start feeling things. You poured out the disinfected water onto a sanitary cloth.

“I’ll be fine. Unfortunately I think you have to take off your undershirt too,” you anticipated his joking but he just grabbed the scissors and cut it off with the arm he could move without hurting too much. He winced and could barely even finish cutting, but he did. It was the easier method. No joke, but he did have an awful smirk. A really awful smirk.

He was the kind of guy who was fit in the healthiest way. Not super toned but there was definition in his arms and chest, but not a lot. Soft, was the right word, and you might have been staring before you started to clean the wounds the best you could with just the water. There was some form of tension in the air, thick, and it only worsened.

“Fuck that hurts,” he winced, but didn’t move much more than tensing up. You backed off, taking off the top of your suit too, leaving you in just a black t-shirt. You pretended like his eyes didn’t linger.

“I know, wait until we get to the alcohol.”

“Ugh,” he kept tense as you cleaned him up, his body, then his face. He was better with his face. You leaned over him to clean it. He let you. He didn’t need any stitches, which was a good thing, and you easily bandaged up his forehead and put some healing ointments on his other cuts. “You should let me help you with your face.” He said. “While you do the rest of me.”

“I’m fine,”

“It’s still bleeding. If it’s not dealt with in time it’ll ruin your pretty face.” you dismissed the pretty part. It was in Peter’s nature to joke around.

“Fine.” You said, continuing to tend to the wounds on his chest and shoulder. Shoulder was a little discoloured, it was dislocated. He used the arm he could somewhat use and tidied the wounds on your face while you prepared the alcohol. “Thank you.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m glad you’re here to distract me from the pain I’m in.” He said. You smirked a little.

“Distract how?”

“You know how,” he said. You didn’t fully know, you just pressed the alcohol pad to his shoulder cut. He would have taken too long to prepare for the pain anyways. He grit his teeth and jerked just a little, trying not to make noise. “God, fuck that hurt-“ he practically growled it.

“I know, I know, but it needs to be done.” You wiped it a little, he kept his teeth together. He was gripping your other hand, you noticed. You didn’t know when that happened, but he just was. It was okay, you kept it as you applied the alcohol to other wounds. “This might not even be the worst part. This part is really going to fucking hurt so you’re going to want to listen to me.”

“I’m going to pretend like that sentence wasn’t the hottest thing said to me in a while,” Peter said, letting go of your hand and touching his hair. You smiled a little, fanning his scratches of the alcohol. “You’re not being very receptive of my flirting.” He said. Well, you weren’t expecting that.

“I’m focused on making sure you don’t bleed out,” you replied, trying to hide your smile as you pressed bandages to where he needed them. Was there really tension, or was he just done for? “I don’t think you actually want to flirt with me, I think you’re concussed. You said it so yourself.”

He tried to shrug, but hissed a little. “The fact I’ve liked you since I met you is such a strong truth it shines through my concussion. It’s the concussion that’s making me admit it.”

“You’re severely concussed, oh my god.” You said, walking over to his shelf, finding immediately what you need. No clue why he had a wooden spoon, but then again why did he have a giant collection of Twinkie boxes… or a box of elastic bands?

“You’re not unlikeable, I don’t know why you wouldn’t believe me.” He questioned.

You shook your head, “I think with your lack of filter and spontaneity, you would have said something sooner.”

“No. You scare the shit out of me. Not because you’re scary, but because you’re you. You know? So yeah right now my confession might be due to blood loss or my concussion but I mean what I say. It’s kind of like I’m dazed but I’m not.” Peter rambled. You blinked a few times, thinking about it.

You liked Peter. It wasn’t a huge crush… more a small one, but you did. Did you admit it to him right now? Or wait until he’s healed to see if he really means it all? “I think that you should bite down on this,” you held out the spoon and reluctantly he bit it. “This will hurt.”

“Mhm,” and you readied yourself at his shoulder. It was good you studied this, or this could have gone wrong. You grabbed his shoulder at first with gentle hands and he tensed. You counted down.

“5, 4, 3,-“ and you grabbed his arm suddenly and shoved it back into place with a sickening crunch. His whole body convulsed and he made a sound in reaction to the pure pain, breathing hard. “I do like you too.” You admit while he was still writhing. Maybe he would forget it later, blinded by the pain.

He spit out the spoon. “You didn’t even count down to one,” he complained. You started tending to your own bodily wounds, cleaning and bandaging. “That really hurt.”

“It’s over with, though.” You said, now wrapping his arm with supportive cloth. “You’ll be okay, you’re all patched up. I’ll get you a new ice pack after I finish up on myself-“

Peter pointed at you, “You’re pretending you didn’t just admit to liking me back. You wanted me to forget.”

“Really, it’s not huge.”

“You like me too.” He laughed. It was almost like he laughed at you. Cocky. “You admit it out loud.”

“Yeah. I did. I’m probably concussed.”

“You know this means I should probably kiss you before you walk out the door and regret all of this,” he shrugged and sped over. His legs were in working order, seemingly.

“I don’t know about that logic,” you replied. “This is definitely a concussion thing, it’s got you all screwed up. You’ll probably regret it first, if your brain ever goes back to-“ he kissed you. Hand on your jaw, he kissed you. And it was better than you expected. Sweeter. You kissed back, then he stopped. “-normal.” You finished your sentence.

“We should definitely talk this over when we’re not injured super badly.” Peter suggested, tucking your hair behind your ear. “I’m thinking tomorrow night, when the scratches turn into scabs. Like 8:30?”

“Smooth.” You said. It was funny how he didn’t even move an inch back from you to say his words. Your noses still touched. “Sure.”

“Great. Looking forward to doing this again.”

“How do you know I’ll let you?” You mumbled, looking at his lips again.

“You kissed me back right now, didn’t you? I think that sends a certain signal, so I don’t think I read this wrong.” He grinned a devilish grin and you sighed, smiling back. “So 8:30?”

“8:30,” you repeated. He got back onto his bed, smiling as you continued your task, going to get him an ice pack for his head and one for your head as well. The pain was a little more bearable now, somehow.

That was definitely a strange turn of events in an odd situation, but it worked out. You found yourself smiling as you sort of limped to find an ice pack. Jean seemed to be doing the same thing and she had a gleam in her eye as she passed you two of exactly what you were looking for.

“Finally, hm?” She said. You almost forgot she could read minds and you smiled a little, nodding thank you for the ice pack and yes to her words. “Took him long enough.”

[nikonikoneeekaps]

// Spider-Man No Way Home spoilers

You know what's coming, so let's just jump straight into it

*3 Peters sitting in jail together*

Peter G: So who should we call?

Peter H: I’d call Dr. Strange, but I feel safer in jail

Peter M: petition to remove the 'd' from Wednesday

Peter G: Wednesay

Peter M: Not what I had in mind, but I'm flexible

Peter M: I can’t believe you live nearby, and you won’t let anyone crash at your place.

MJ: You people already know too much about me.

Peter G: I know exactly three facts about you, and one of them is that you won’t let any of us crash at your place.

Peter G: I love you guys, you're the best thing that's happened to me.

Peter H: We're the best thing that's ever happened to you?

Peter G: Yes!

Peter M: I'm starting to feel a little sorry for you.

Peter H: Naturally, we are on the cutting edge of technology.

Peter G, amazed: Wow...

Peter G, to Peter M: Well what does that mean?

Peter M: I don't know.

Peter M, to Peter H: What does that mean?

Peter H: Who thinks I can fit 15 marshmallows in my mouth?

Peter M: You’re a hazard to society

Peter G: And a coward. Do twenty.

Peter H: Bridge the generation gap by combining old and new slang into one!

Ned: Tubular AF!

MJ: Mood to the max!

Peter M, annoyed: Groovy, I hate it.

Peter G, just as annoyed: If she breathes, she’s a square.

Peter H: I’ve done a lot of dumb stuff.

Peter M: I witnessed the dumb stuff.

Ned: I recorded the dumb stuff.

Peter G: I joined in on the dumb stuff.

MJ: I TRIED TO STOP YOU FROM DOING THE DUMB STUFF!!!

Dr. Strange: Where's Peter 1, 2 and 3?

Ned: They're playing hide and seek.

Dr. Strange: Where?

MJ: I don't think you get how this game works.

MJ: What's your greatest fear?

Peter H: Being forgotten.

Peter M: Failure.

Peter G: Loud flushing toilets.

Everyone: *turns to Peter G*

Peter G: Those things are hell spawn, and I fought The Lizard.

Shapeshifter: *transforms to look like Peter G*

Peter G: Okay, are you like BLIND? You look nothing like me. First off, I'm way taller. Secondly, I DO NOT look so sleep deprived and lastly, if you could drag comb through that hair you're like a 7 on a good day and I've been told I'm a constant 10.

Peter H: You wanna see how hardcore I am?

Peter H: *punches wall*

Peter G and M:

Peter H: Take me to the hospital.

Peter G: So apparently the 'bad vibes' I’ve been feeling are actually severe psychological distress

Peter G: A theif.

Peter M: Thief?

Peter G: Theif.

Peter H: I before E, except after C.

Peter G: Thceif.

Peter M: No.

Peter G: I turned out perfectly fine!

Peter M: Peter, this morning you thought a ghost made your toast

Peter G: I DIDN’T PUT THE BREAD IN! YOU DIDN’T PUT THE BREAD IN!!!

Peter M: Today is a day of running through hurdles.

Peter H: Aren’t you supposed to jump OVER hurdles?

Peter M: Whatever. Fear is only something to be afraid of if you let it scare you.

Peter G: Are we in trouble?

Peter M: Take a guess.

Peter H: No?

Dr. Strange, appearing out of nowhere: Take another guess.

Peter G: Is letting someone win at chess sapiosexual bottoming

Peter M: Does anyone in this godforsaken group ever think before they speak

Dr. Strange: God, give me patience.

Peter M: I think you mean 'give me strength'.

Dr. Strange: If God gave me strength, you three would be dead.

Peter H: Welcome, fellow idiots

Peter G: Hello, Peter 1

Peter M: No, no, not you, you're not an idiot

Peter G: You underestimate me

MJ: Do you take constructive criticism?

Peter G: I only take cash or credit.

Peter H: Please, I'm begging you go to a doctor.

Peter M: I'm sorry is this OUR stab wound? Stay out of it.

Peter H, tending to Peter G's wounds: How would you rate your pain?

Peter G: Zero stars. Would NOT recommend.

Peter M: *smacks him upside the head*

MJ: You often use humor to deflect trauma

Peter G: Thank you

Peter H: She didn't say that was a good thing

Peter G: What I'm hearing is, you think I'm funny

Peter H: Date someone who will drag you outside at 3am to look at the stars.

Peter G: If anyone, and I mean anyone, wakes me up at 3am to go look at the damn sky they will be removed indefinitely from my life.

[newlabourgroupie]

good god i’ve been reading this book for like maybe ten minutes…

[newlabourgroupie]

the venn diagram of Peter Mandelson Behaviours and Morrissey Behaviours is actually a single circle if u rlly think about it

[nikonikoneeekaps]

// Possble Spider-Man No Way Home spoilers ahead

More of the boys hehe

Peter G: Buying a sketchbook soon, I'm gonna try to be an artist.

Peter M: I thought you said 'arsonist' for a second there.

Peter H: He would do that too.

Peter M: Peter 3, keep an eye on Peter 1 today. He's going to say something to the wrong person and get punched.

Peter G: Sure, I’d love to see Peter 1 get punched.

Peter M: Try again.

Peter G, sighing: I will stop Peter 1 from getting punched.

Peter H: What if I press the brake and gas at the same time?

Peter G: The car takes a screenshot.

Peter M: For the last time, get the fuck out.

Peter H: Why are you on the floor?

Peter G: I'm depressed.

Peter G: Also I was stabbed, can you get Peter 2, please?

Dr. Strange: While I’m gone, Peter 3, you’re in charge.

Peter G: Yes!!!

Dr. Strange, whispering: Peter 2, you’re secretly in charge.

Peter M: Obviously.

Peter G: Dr. Connors... my old arch enemy.

Max Dillon: ... I thought I was your arch enemy?

Peter G: I have a life outside of you, Max.

Peter H: Would you stab your best friend in the leg for 10 million gold?

Peter M: You stab me, and then when my leg gets better, we buy a big-ass house.

Peter G: You can stab me too, then we'll have 20 million.

Peter M: Good thinking.

Peter H: Peter 3 and I were crossing the street, and this dude drove by and honked at us

Peter M: *Sighing* What did Peter 3 do?

Peter H: He chased him to the next red light, then reached into his window and...

Peter G: Who wants a steering wheel?

Peter H: Hey Peter 2

Peter M: Yes?

Peter H: Can a person breathe inside a washing machine while it’s on?

Peter M:

Peter M: Where’s Peter 3?

Peter H: Peter 2, can you pass the salt?

Peter M: *Throws Peter G across the table*

Peter H: What's a word thats a mix between 'sad' and 'mad'?

Peter M: Disgruntled, miserable, desolated-

Peter G: Smad.

Peter H: We need a distraction.

Peter M: Is anyone here good at jumping up and down and making weird noises?

Peter G, whispering: My time has come

Peter M: Let me show you a picture from last night that really upset me

Peter H: Okay, but in my defense, Peter 3 bet me 50 cents I couldn’t drink all that shampoo.

Peter M: That’s not what I wanted to- you drank SHAMPOO?!

Peter H: In my defense, I was left unsupervised.

Peter M: Wasn't Peter 3 with you?

Peter G: In my defense, I was also left unsupervised.

Peter G, asking someone out: Would you like to stay for dinner?

Peter H, running down the stairs: WOULD YOU LIKE TO STAY FOREVER??

Peter G: There is no future. there is no past. do you see? Time is simultaneous, an intricately structured jewel that humans insist on viewing one edge at a time, when the whole design is visible in every facet.

Peter M:

Peter H:

Everyone Else At Peter G’s Surprise Birthday Party:

Peter M: All I asked was if you wanted to cut your birthday cake first.

Peter H and Peter G are sitting on a bench

Peter M: Why do you guys look so sad?

Peter H: Sit down with us so we can tell you.

*Peter M sits down*

Peter G: The bench is freshly painted.

Peter H: I think we're missing something.

Peter M: Teamwork?

Peter G: Cohesion?

Peter M: A general sense of what we’re doing?

[nikonikoneeekaps]

// Spider-Man No Way Home SPOILERS

Oh yeah, it's more Spidertrio incorrect quotes time

I'll be using Peter H, G, and M to refer to each version (each letter for the last name of the actor)

Peter G: Life is pointless and we will all die some day.

Peter M: It's just garlic bread, Peter.

Peter H: Five little monkeys jumping on the bed. One fell off and…

Peter M: Was diagnosed with mesothelioma.

Peter H: Mamma called the doctor and the doctor said…

Peter G: You might be entitled to financial compensation if he or a loved one dies.

Peter H: The best part of an oreo is the cookie part, not the frosting. Deal with it.

Dr. Strange: Darkness without light is an abyss. Light without darkness is blinding. You cannot have a coin with one side.

Peter G: Yo Socrates, it's a fucking cookie.

Peter H: Peter 3, I am questioning your sanity...

Peter M: I never questioned it, I knew his sanity was missing from the start.

Peter H: Onion rings are vegetable donuts.

Peter M: Sure...

Ned: Your stomach thinks all potatoes are mashed.

MJ: Okay?

Peter H: Lasagna is spaghetti flavored cake.

Peter M:

Ned: Lobsters are mermaid scorpio-

MJ: Jesus, that one is a little-

Peter G, interested: No, no, keep going.

Peter H: Could you guys at least try to see this from my perspective?

MJ: *crouches down*

Peter M: *kneels down*

Peter G: *sits on the floor*

Peter H:

Peter H: I hate all of you.

Peter M: Sometimes I drink milk straight from the container.

Peter H: The cow??

Peter M: What?

Peter G: Peter, W H Y?

*An image of a really hot knife cutting bread*

Peter M: Imagine stabbing someone with this knife.

Peter H: It would instantly cauterize the wound, so the person wouldn't bleed, so it's not very useful.

Peter H: if you want information it is

Peter G: why would you STAB a person when you can have TOAST?

Ned: If I punch myself and it hurts, am I weak or strong?

Peter H: Strong.

Peter M: Weak.

Peter G: An idiot, is what your are.

MJ, singing to the tune of I Kissed a Girl: I killed a guy, and I liked it-

Peter H, whispering: Should we call the exorcist?

Peter G, also singing: The taste of his cherry chapstick.

Peter M, appalled: Call the exorcist.

*In a horror movie situation*

Peter M: I've got no service in my phone here.

Peter H: Shoot, my battery just died.

Ned: Sorry guys, I just broke my phone with a hammer.

Peter G: Guys, my phone is a book.

Peter M: How late were you up last night?

Ned & Peter H, in unison: Me?

Peter G: No, not you two. You stay up late all the time.

Peter M, to MJ: You.

MJ: Christmas is cancelled.

Peter G: You can't cancel a holiday.

MJ: Keep it up, Peter 3, and you'll lose New Year's too.

Peter G: What does that mean?

MJ: Ned, take New Year's away from Peter G.

Peter G & Peter H in the back of Peter M's car: MCDONALDS! MCDONALDS! MCDONALDS!

Peter M: *pulls into the McDonald's drivethrough*

Peter G & Peter H: YAYYYYYY!

Peter M: *orders one black coffee and leaves*

Peter G: I give up. I am so tired.

Peter M: Get the emergency supply!

MJ: *carries Peter H and places them in front of Peter G*

Peter H: *smiles*

Peter G: AND I AM BACK BABY, LET’S GOOO

Ned: Which country has the most birds?

Ned: Portu-geese!

Peter M: That's a language.

Ned: Portu-gull?

Peter M: Good recovery.

MJ: I think you mean good re-dovery.

Peter G: TURKEY. HOW DID WE MISS TURKEY?

Peter H: Words ending in 'ie' just sound so adorable. Like cutie, sweetie, cookie-

Ned: Eyy, homie!

Peter G: But then there's cootie...

Peter M: Die.

Ned, texting in the group chat: I wonder what Apple shots would look like?

Peter G: *Sends a picture of of a syringe with an apple slice shoddily edited inside*

Peter M: *Sends a picture of a shot glass with an Apple poorly drawn inside*

Peter H: *Sends picture of person dunking a Basketball into the hoop but replaced the basketball with a poorly resized apple*

MJ: I hate all of you.