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#peter parker blurb
peterplanet · 7 hours ago
Soft Peter make out with fluff and smiley and like a chill mood
requests ? if u want
tw: mentions of alcohol + drinking to b drunk :( if u want to re-request, please do !! i’m happy to write it without alcohol <3
peter usually can’t get drunk like the average college student without people worrying that he’s going to have alcohol poisoning. you know how much he can reasonably have (a lot), but you never thought that you’d see him drunk like he is now.
you’re lying in your bedroom in your apartment while your roommate is out for the night at their partner’s. you’re wrapped up in peter, consumed by him, as he kisses you like it’s the only thing that he has left to do.
it’s nice, you think; to be this close, to feel this known and seen. you know that peter has other things he could be doing besides kissing you and keeping you close like this, but it’s nice to feel like you’re the only person in his world.
you can only hope that you make him feel just as known.
when he finally pulls his lips away from yours, you take a moment to appreciate how swollen they are from kissing you. he’s smiling breathlessly, a little drunk and very full of adoration for you, and it’s all that you can do to take in this moment for what it’s giving you.
in the nights that he goes out to save the city, these are the moments that you will come back to—here, in your college apartment, where peter loved you first. here, where you were the center of his universe.
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heavenlyholland · 11 hours ago
could you write something where the reader joins tom for a red carpet event and she’s pregnant and she’s really insecure about her big bump and tom just reassures her and stuff?
a/n: this was so cute and fun to write! hope you enjoy, reblogs are appreciated!
requests are open (responses slow) so send in!
— 。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆ —
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you hated being talked about, whether that be in a positive, or negative way, it was the one thing you absolutely hated about being in the public eye, but you couldn’t seem to escape it. you knew it was out of your control, people had opinions and things to say, and considering you were married to a well-known actor, it increased the amount of attention brought to you.
not that it was tom’s fault, it never was. you loved him for the person he was at heart, not what the media made him be, but with the amount of activity he was involved in with the media, it felt as if you were always brought and mixed into everything that involved him.
being six months pregnant, and going to your first ever award show as a pregnant woman, was something that truly made you scared for what the reaction was going to be. you loved being pregnant, tom and you were lucky enough and were blessed with a life-changing experience, how could you not be anymore happier? it was the amount of toxicity brought into your lives because of the voices of the media.
you tried your best to ignore it the majority of times you were faced with comments and judgments, but there were points in time that it really went to your heart, and took a toll on you. tom, however, was your safe haven. he always was there to pick you back up on your feet and lift you off of your wings to soar free without any of the troublesome worries of others, that’s what you loved most about him. he made you feel like the only girl in the world, getting to live his best life with the woman of his dreams, despite what others had to say.
that’s why today, in your hollywood house that you had invested in six months after marrying tom, you hoped that you’d be able to see him help you calm your nerves before the storm. you looked in your tall mirror, admiring your outfit of a long, silk, champagne coloured dress with a v-cut down to rest right before your baby bump. your hands were placed on your growing stomach, a habit you picked up during your pregnancy, while you rubbed the fabric that covered your skin. you took deep breathes in and out while continuing to look at your image in the mirror. all you could think about was the little, beautiful angel soon to be welcomed into this world, and how much you couldn’t wait to meet them. interrupting your thoughts, you hear a quiet knock against the door of your walk-in closet, before it slid open to reveal tom who was in his dress pants and matching dress shirt that was buttoned up all the way, except for the last two, exposing his broad chest.
"is this like our wedding where i'm not allowed to see you before the event, or can i come in and see my beautiful wife." tom cheekily questioned, making the heat rise to your cheeks and you look down, still astonished at how after however many years of being married to tom, he never failed to put a smile on your face, and make you flustered.
"no, you can come in, goofball." you replied, turning around to face tom as he walked up to you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and turning you underneath his arms so you were facing the full-length mirror again.
"how are my two favourite girls in the entire world?" he mumbled against your cheek, placing a kiss on your delicate skin. his arms instinctively wrapped around your waist, but because of your bump, his arms rested on top.
"they're nervous, especially mommy." you said as you sucked in a breath, anxiously. tom stood up straight and stepped in front of you, looking into your eyes with a concerning look on his face.
"what's wrong, my love? is there something wrong with the baby?" tom asked, now worried that someone had gone wrong.
"no, no, nothing like that- the baby's fine. m'sorry for scaring you." you reassured, rubbing tom's shoulders to relax him.
"then, what's wrong? i don't want you to be nervous." he asked bringing his hand up to rub his thumb against your cheek.
"i'm just worried about this," you said, tears brimming your eyes as you motioned down to your growing baby bump. "you know how judgemental everyone is, and it's been a while since my last event- and now that i'm pregnant, i'm worried they're going to say hurtful things about me." you said as your voice wavered, looking up at the ceiling to try and not let the tears spill from your eyes.
tom tuts his tongue and he frowns, "y/n, you are the most beautiful and breath-taking woman i have ever met in my entire life, and i am so grateful that it's you who's carrying my child." he says, looking at you and holding your sides, "that's our child in there, something we made- so don't let anyone tell you things about something that isn't theirs." he said, motioning to your belly that kept a space between you and him. "i know it's scary, because you don't want our daughter growing up in the public eye as soon as she's welcomed into the world, but i promise you not to worry, because being pregnant, and carrying our little monster in you for nine months- having to go through all the things you've gone through so far- that makes you so strong and powerful. all you deserve in life, and with this pregnancy, is to be serenaded and spoiled with love- and it's my job to do that." he said. by this point, tears were freely streaming down your face at tom's kind words, and you had linked your hands together with his.
"y/n, i love you, and you are beyond beautiful. so, please never be scared to show people the true beautiful side of you that i get to see every day of my life, for the rest of my life."
tags: @angelic-tom @blissfulparker @bi-lmg @beachwoodrry @cherrytholland @cherryxholland @evermoreholland @felicityparkers @gyllenhaalstories @hoodieofholland @honeyspidey @lmaotshollandd @londonspidey @mathletemadison @moonshineholland @multiholland @ptersmj @parkersholland @pparkersbitch @parkers-gal @rhapsodyparker @sunshinehollandd @sunsetholland @spidey-sophie @tomhollandd @veryholland @spideyspeaches @saturnpeter @whoreology @dummiesshort @amourtentiaa @lowkey-holland @hollandcrush @marvelouspeterparker
please message me if you’d like me to stop tagging you!
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piscesparker · 17 hours ago
Cuddles: The best medicine P.P
a/n: Small blurb 🥰
It was Friday night, Peter was done with his patrolling and was now swinging around your neighborhood to you. Ever since the two of you started dating Peter made a rule that weekends were reserved for you, and you didn't dare argue you loved the thought of having him for almost two whole days.
Peter knew he was a bit late at night and you must have already gone to sleep but he couldn't wait to be with you; to have you in his arms. Sliding the window up he carefully entered your room, trying not to trip over anything and then seeing the most adorable sight in front of him. He loved seeing you sleep, looking so peaceful as cute little snores left you mouth or when you grabbed his shirt in your fist while cuddling; a little chuckle leaving his mouth remembering all the times you cuddled.
All those memories made Peter even more desperate  to hold you, getting rid of his suit he got in his sweatpants and a plain old tee. He climbed onto the bed and under the covers scooting closer to you, snaking his arm around you and placing a kiss on your neck which was enough to make you stir in your sleep and flutter your eyes open; Peter nuzzling his nose in you neck breathing in your intoxicating scent.
"Peter?" You rasped.
"Hey, I missed you." He confessed.
"Missed you too." You said and turned over to face him, caressing his cheek and freckles that were illuminated by the moonlight coming from the window, putting you in a trance. While you were taking his features in, Peter took this opportunity and pulled you closer by your waist and into a long awaited kiss, leaving you in a laughing mess later. You placed your head on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeats, "Tell me about your day Pete."
Peter began telling you about his rather uneventful day and after ten minutes of his rambling he looked down at you with doe eyes as you laid peacefully on his chest giving his butterflies and drifting off himself after admiring you.
General Taglist: @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh @peaches-parker @mischiefmanaged011 @hollanderfangirl @alinastarkrovs @parkerpeter24 @whatthefuckimbisexual @yourstrulyamour @felicityparkers @theonly1outof-a-billion @miraclesoflove @theliterarymess @osterfieldholland01 @spideyssunshine @zspideyy @chillingonlife @yousayironisayman @keithseabrook27
Peter Parker Taglist: @starlight-starks @spideyspeaches @peterbenjiparker @just-lost-inbetween-worlds
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blindingdutchy · a day ago
lamentation | THREE
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{peter parker x fem!reader AU}
based on All the Bright Places by Jennifer Niven
word count: 3,310
warnings: depression, anxiety, grief, mental illness! descriptions of injury/blood/gore! angst
18+!!! minors stay away!
Peter Parker: are you okay??
Peter Parker: (Y/N)?
Peter Parker: why aren't you at school? please tell me you're okay
You shut your phone off and buried your head under your pillow again, wishing for nothing more than to go back to sleep and escape life completely. All weekend long, and especially all morning, your phone had been ringing non stop with texts from Peter Parker. As much as you wished you could say you hadn't read them, you had.
You'd read them all almost as soon as you'd received them, but you just couldn't bring yourself to respond. You didn't need friends. You didn't want friends. Peter Parker was not your friend, and you were determined to keep it that way. No matter how hard he tried to force himself into your life, you were not going to let him in; you couldn't.
You couldn't let him in and risk getting hurt again, and today was yet another painful reminder of why. It was her birthday. At least, it would have been if she weren't dead. If you hadn't put her in the wrong place at the right time, ending her life and ruining yours forever.
For one tiny moment after you woke up, one minuscule fraction of a second, you forgot the importance of the day. You forgot what made the day different, and you forgot that your sister was dead. Or, rather, did you forget you ever had a sister at all? Had--that was the word that made you weep.
That fleeting moment of ignorance was the exact reason why it should have been you and not her. Surely, she never would have forgotten your birthday, or you, or your absence. She never would have looked at the date and even hesitated in remembering what the significance was. Always the better sister, the better person, the one who deserved it all.
Since that moment you had not left your bed, and Peter's latest slew of texts forced you to look at the time and acknowledge that hours had passed. It was lunch time, hours and hours since you'd awoken, and you had not moved even an inch. Everything felt too heavy.
The air felt too thick, gravity too strong, your body made of stone; you wondered if you were even able to move. Of course, you had shut your phone off so clearly you could move, but you didn't want to. It was so hard, so unbelievably hard to move. Why did everything have to be so tough?
As you laid there, staring at the blackened void of the backs of your eyelids because you just couldn't shut your mind off, your thoughts wandered through all the darkest places. Would she have been ashamed to see you like this? Would she have been disgusted with how you were acting, the person you had become?
God, why couldn't you just shut it off? Why couldn't you just make it all stop? That was all you wanted anymore. You wanted the thoughts, the feelings, the memories, everything, to just go away. You wanted to just exist in the empty void that only came about when you were sleeping. The space where your senses were gone and it was just you.
Or, maybe, you didn't want to exist at all. That wasn't to say that you wanted to die, even though you did, but rather that you just wanted to cease to exist. You wanted to never be, to never have been. It was complex thought that was equally as heavy and taxing to ponder.
Would that have made a difference? Would she have lived if you had never been around, never been alive, to lead her down all the paths that lead to that moment? If you hadn't existed, she wouldn't have been in the park at that perfect moment. If she, by some mystical force, had been there anyways, she wouldn't have lingered behind to save you.
Everyone's lives would have been so much better without you. Your parents wouldn't have had to work so much to afford everything for you and your sister. Your grandma might have lived longer, not having to exert herself so much to watch after the troublesome child that you had been. Maybe the butterfly effect of your lack of existence would have reached so far that the world would generally be a better place, too.
You barked a laugh at the thought, your voice hoarse from dehydration and lack of use. How pathetic it was of you to think you had so much of an impact! You surely were not so important that you changed that much about the world.
"(Y/N), honey?"
The world got a little heavier at the sound of your door creaking open and your mother's soft, hesitant voice. When you didn't respond, nor even move a muscle, she sighed, "(Y/N), you need to eat. I made some soup, I'll even bring it up to you if you want."
Despite the fact that you didn't feel hungry in even the slightest capacity, your stomach rumbled loudly at the mention of food. "Okay." you whispered, and when the door clicked shut again the silence was overwhelming.
She would have been so disappointed in you. You knew just how much you worried your parents with every passing day, and as much as you wanted to be better and make them feel better, you just couldn't bring yourself to care. You couldn't bring yourself to care about your wellbeing or how all the things you were doing, or not doing, affected your parents.
Caring wasn't easy anymore, and it felt foreign. You were so bogged down under all the baggage on your back, on your shoulders, and on your head that you couldn't expend any of the energy required to do so. If you did, if you tried, you'd surely have collapsed under the weight.
Your mother came back and left once more just as quickly, sighing quietly as she tried and failed to rouse you from your bed. You'd remained silent through the creak of the door, the soft clatter of the bowl and spoon being placed on your nightstand, her soft breathes of disappointment, and the click of the latch as she left again. You even held your breathe, so immersed in listening to all her little noises that you forgot about the air you needed to live.
When your mother returned to your room later that day, though it felt like seconds for you, she ripped the blankets from your body and blinked down at you tearfully. "You didn't eat." she stated simply, gesturing to the still full bowl of soup that was now ice cold.
You blinked back, though the tears in your eyes were due to the sudden burn of being open rather than emotion. The numbness had creeped in at some point during the day, and you couldn't feel a thing aside from empty. She waited there for a long, pregnant moment for you to respond, but you had no words.
What were you meant to say? You could hear your sister's voice scolding you for ignoring her, but you just couldn't think of the right thing to say anymore. "Get up, (Y/N). Dinner is getting cold and you're going to eat with us, even if I have to drag you out of this bed myself." your mother finally demanded.
Weakly, you clambered out of your bed and followed her downstairs. She tried to hide it, probably for your sake, but you could see the pleased smile on her face as she finally got you out of your bed. You wondered what it felt like to smile anymore. Could you smile anymore? You'd tried a few times, but it always felt awkward and forced and never looked quite right.
"She lives!"
You grimaced, your version of a smile, at your father's bland attempt at humor that earned a warning glare from your mother. Yes, you lived, and that was the problem. You didn't want to. You shouldn't have. It should have been her coming down to dinner to celebrate her birthday, not you trudging to the table to try and ignore the party that should have been taking place.
She would have been nineteen. Would she have liked college? Would she have found a cute college boy to date, maybe have brought him home to meet the family on her birthday? Your mother made her favorite food, a family recipe, and you pretended you didn't notice.
It didn't taste as good without her around to gush over it in anticipation. You'd never been much of a fan in the first place, but as a little sister it was your duty to love everything your big sister did. Food included, and you'd eagerly sucked down that casserole for years and claimed it was your favorite too.
"I'll be right back, don't go anywhere!" your mother announced, wiping her hands on a napkin as you choked down the last pea on your plate.
When she returned a few moments later with a large chocolate cake in her hands, a cold sweat blossomed over your body and you stiffened. "What's that?" you demanded, staring wide eyed at the all-too-familiar cake incredulously.
It was a rhetorical question. You knew exactly what it was, but you were horrified to see it. She'd made her famous chocolate cake, the same cake she'd made every year for your sister's birthday because, like the casserole, it too was her favorite.
Was this some kind of sick joke? Why did she make a cake? Your sister was gone, and there was nothing to celebrate. If anything you wished to still be hidden away under your blankets, moping and wishing for peace. Yet, here was your mother, placing the cake down on the table with a sheepish smile and watery eyes.
She stared at the cake, avoiding your eyes as she sniffed, "I just... I thought that maybe this would make it feel like she's still here. I just wanted a little bit of her to make the day a little less sad."
"She's not here, Mom." you snapped, "She's not here, and this isn't going to change that."
With a loud screech from your chair that scraped across the floor, you bolted away from the table and back to your room. God, why are you being so horrible? She's just trying her best, you don't have to be so hard on her... Your sister's voice echoed in your mind, rattling around your skull so hard you swore you could feel your teeth chatter.
She was right, and you knew it. You knew you were being unfair, cruel even, but you couldn't help it. You couldn't help the uncontrollable guilt that seeing all your sister's favorite foods brought creeping back over you. You couldn't help the bile that steadily rose up your throat at the thought of her, the sight of her ever-present empty chair.
You couldn't help any of it. The anger and guilt was too much to bear, especially as you heard your mother's choked sob echo from the dining room all the way to your bedroom. You'd done that. You'd made her cry with your selfish contempt. You were truly the worst.
Collapsing back onto your bed and burying yourself under your blankets, you smothered yourself with your pillow until it felt like your lungs were going to explode. The tears never came, though you wished for them desperately. You felt like crying, you wanted to cry, but you couldn't. You were all cried out once more.
A loud knock on your window startled you awake, and you blinked in surprise at the pitch darkness of your room. You couldn't remember falling asleep, but that was fairly typical anymore. When you don't dream, there's never really much to differentiate between wake and rest. It was always just like blinking your eyes--one moment it was one day, and the next it was another.
Time moved pretty strangely ever since the incident, you'd discovered. Sleep made time seem longer, more impactful, and without it the days all blurred together. Another knock caught your attention, followed by another, before there was a steady rapping at the glass pane that made you furrow your eyebrows.
You clicked the power button on your phone only to huff when you remembered you'd shut it off, and turned to face the window. A shadow passed before it and your heart stuttered frightfully. Another knock, another shadow, and you were surprised you hadn't peed your pants in fear. There was someone out there.
A head popped up over the windowsill, falling heavily against the glass with a loud bang that made you jump. "What the--Peter?" you gasped, your eyes slowly adjusting to the dim lighting until you could make out the familiar suit of Spiderman.
What the hell was Peter doing at your window, and why was he still dressed up in his stupid costume? Begrudgingly, yet secretly curious, you creeped out of your bed and opened the window with furrowed eyebrows. "Peter, what are you doing here?" you whispered, but he didn't respond.
Well, he didn't respond with words. He groaned, a strange gargled noise like he was trying to talk through a mouthful of water, and his head lolled to the side weakly. Prodding his shoulder, he nearly tumbled to the ground until you caught him awkwardly and strained to keep him upright. "P-please, help." he gasped.
Your heart was racing, and your mind was moving nearly as fast with a million questions. How the hell did Peter know where you lived? Why was he at your window? What was wrong with him? Why did he think you were the person to help him? Why, what, why, how, all the questions remained unanswered.
It was a great struggle to drag Peter through your window, a task that was done without much help from the surprisingly heavy boy who leaned nearly all of his weight onto you. You did it, though, and bit back a scream when you pulled your hands away to find them covered in blood. As you stared at the dark, red stains on your flesh, the smell of it hit you and your head was spinning.
Blood, and a lot of it. Immediately your mind brought you back to that fateful day, images of your sister's lifeless form flashing before your eyes and blurring the world around you. Your breathing grew shallower, and just as the tunnel vision started to encroach, Peter garbled, "Please, (Y/N), you need to help me."
He weakly slapped at his chest until his suit deflated like a balloon, peeling away from his body like a loose tarp that was easily pulled away from his skin. "Oh, my god!" you wailed. His body was riddled with cuts, scrapes, and bruises galore. You wondered if any of his skin remained unbroken, because everything was black, blue, and red.
For the first time in what felt like forever, your fight or flight switched gears to fight. You weren't entirely sure why, because you were crying and holding back vomit like your life depended on it, but you raced around your room to gather anything you could to staunch the bleeding. Every breathe you took overwhelmed you with the smell of blood, that familiar metallic scent of iron or pennies, but you couldn't breathe through your mouth.
If you opened your mouth, you were surely going to lose all the food you'd eaten for dinner. All you could think of was your sister. You thought of what she would have done, and you knew that you were making the right choice in helping him. She would never have left him to fend for himself. Most of all, though, you thought of your sister and how you hadn't stopped her from dying, and you couldn't do that again.
You couldn't let another person die as a result of your actions. You couldn't, and you wouldn't. So, you worked hard and fast through all your crying to patch Peter up as best as you could. Nothing needed stitches as far as you could tell, but nearly every inch of his skin was broken with some form of scrape, scratch, or cut.
It was messy, and by the time you finished you were pretty sure you had more of Peter's blood on your skin and clothes than he had on himself. He was asleep, or unconscious, you weren't entirely sure. What you were sure of, though, was that the sun was rising and he needed to leave. You needed him to get out, both for the sake of your mentality and your parents'.
So, you jabbed your fingers into his shoulder and hissed, "Wake up!"
He awoke frantically, his eyes snapping open and his body lurching upright as he looked around in a panic. "Get away--(Y/N)? What... What am I doing here? Where am I?" he stammered, slumping back onto the floor with a wince as he continued to scan his surroundings in confusion.
"You're in my bedroom, Parker, and I don't know why. You showed up covered in blood and begging for help." you grumbled in annoyance. "You need to go. It's almost morning."
He blinked in surprise, glancing out your window to see the early hints of dawn on the horizon. "I, uh, I'm... I'm sorry. I don't remember coming here." he mumbled, "Woah, did I hurt you? Oh my God, I hurt you, I'm so--"
"This is your blood, Peter." you growled, cutting off his frenzied rambling as he finally caught sight of the red stains all over your body. "Get out."
He stared at you with parted lips, eyes wide with panic and apprehension. "Are you crying?" he finally asked, his voice timid.
It took you a moment to realize that, yes, you were in fact crying. You hadn't realized that the tears were still flowing from your eyes, but as you did the adrenaline wore off and you choked out through a sob, "Get out! Get out of here, Peter!"
Without the adrenaline pumping through your veins to keep you grounded, the emotion of the entire situation caught up to you. All the fear, anguish, guilt, and anxiety--it all washed over you in an instant and you were losing it. But, you were also angry. You were angry with Peter for putting you in that position.
You were angry that he'd show up, barely alive and begging for your help, when he knew somewhat of what you'd been through. He knew, at the very least, that your sister's death was on your hands, and he put you in a position to put another name on that list. Most of all, though, you were angry that already all of your worst fears were thrown in your face.
Peter wasn't your friend, but some part of you wanted him to be, and already you were faced with the prospect of him dying and you being helpless to stop it. Why was the universe so cruel to you? Were you cursed? It was all a sick, twisted joke, and you wanted no part of it.
"(Y/N), what's wrong--"
You cried, "Just, please, go. I'll see you at school, okay? Just go!"
And, after a moment of hesitation, he went. He climbed out of your window from where he watched you for another minute longer, clearly unwilling to leave you alone in such a state. Peter watched wordlessly as you fumbled to close and latch the window, until you shut the curtains and shut him out again.
Peter Parker: i'm so sorry
Peter Parker: please be okay
Peter Parker: i better see you at school tomorrow or i'm coming back to check on you
Peter Parker: or today i guess
SERIES TAGLIST {ask to be added}:
@msmimimerton @zendayasfwb
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starryspidey · a day ago
Peter Parker x reader
w/c: 1.2k
Summary: Based on this tiktok I saw, which basically complies Sam and Bucky messing with Peter while at work but i added them ‘flirting’ with you and some other stuff.
a/n: i wanted to take a quick break from illicit pt 2, but i'm working on it now! Just need to figure out the plot. But when i saw this tiktok i knew that i had to write a blurb about it.
Even though Peter works at Stark Industries, not only as a superhero but also interning under his greatest hero, he still wanted to keep that mundane part of his life, and that involves getting a job, and spending lots of time with the love of his life. And, the ice cream on the corner of 30 and 34th was the perfect solution. It was something that could keep him grounded, not to mention he got paid for ‘testing’ ice cream flavors and hanging out with you, and there weren’t many crazy parents that would bother him, so it's a win win. 
Clocking in for his shift, he saw you, already waiting in the back room, putting on your name tag while listening to music with headphones. Peter took this opportunity and surprised you by hugging you from behind and giving you a quick kiss on the neck. You jump a little, then when you realized it was Peter, you cupped his cheek with your hand and gave him a light kiss. 
“How are you? Catch any crime lords today?” You asked, pulling away from Peter, letting him grab his name tag from the dish that compelled everyones.
“No crime lords, just a bunch of flashers.” Peter shook his head, remembering the images flashing through his head, as you let out a disgusted ‘ugh’. “The amount of web-fluid I used just to cover up everything was disgusting. Eventually the cops came and they’re going to jail. But I don’t want to think about that now. Just want to eat some ice cream and hang out with you.” Placing the name tag on chest, he held out his hand for you and you gladly took it, leaving the small room. 
“Is anyone else here?” Peter asked you as you got out to the main floor, with Peter behind the ice cream and you behind the counter. Early in your jobs here, you discovered that Peter’s super strength could be used to scoop the freezing ice cream, in doing so flexed his muscles, normally getting a giggle out of a few customers but Peter never seemed to notice, after giving them their dessert, he would always flash a smile to you.
“I think it’s just us, the others left when I got here.” You replied, “wanna start trying the ice cream flavors?”
Peter smiled and got a couple of small spoons and opened the tubs of ice cream and started to eat. After about 10 minutes, business picked up. Swarms of families, couples and friends coming in; and that on its own was fine, but out of the corner of your eye you saw flashing lights and yelling. 
You looked over to Peter whose face went pale. There were only two famous people that would come to this shop for only one reason, to mess with Peter.
The door swung open and Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson came into the store, with big smirks on their face while ignoring everyone else around them. Looking over towards Peter, the last time he looked this pissed was last week, when this exact thing happened.
“Hey Peter, we would like to try… actually you pick Sam, I have no idea what I want.” Sarcasm dripped from Bucky’s voice as he was trying so hard not to laugh.
“Two samples of your rocky road, please.” Sam asked, “though, we might need to try some more flavors to know what we want.”
Peter rolled his eyes and groaned, he picked up two sample spoons, opening the glass door while staring daggers into Sam and Bucky. Handing the spoons back to the two Avengers, they each dramatically tasted the ice cream while still trying to piss off Peter.
“So Buck, did you see Spider-man out in the streets today?” Sam started.
“You know what I did see Spider-man swinging around in his little leotard.” Bucky replied then, put his spoon back into the trash dish, looking over to Peter. “Two samples of your chocolate peanut butter cup ice cream, kid.”
Doing the same process again -getting two spoons while glaring at Bucky and Sam- Peter felt like he was going to explode. And this process repeated about 5 more times, until Sam and Bucky decided that they shockingly did not want any of the flavors and went with plain vanilla  with an absurd amount of toppings just to piss Peter off.
But today, they wanted to do something a little extra. “Thank you kid, now do we pay with that lovely lady down there?” Sam pointed towards you as you were sorting out the customers before them.
“Yeah?” Peter was confused when the torment ended much quicker than usual. But when he saw Sam and Bucky’s smirk he couldn’t help but get much more aggravated and maybe a little jealous.
Putting the pieces together about you and Peter was quite simple. Peter was all too eager to go to work when he was at the Avengers tower and was always seen with a smile on his face when he was on his phone. And when Sam and Bucky first came in, they saw how Peter acted around you.
“Hey Doll, just two double scoops.” Bucky said.
You nodded and tapped the screen, then pushed the chip reader out towards them, “That’ll be $6.50.”
“Actually, is it possible for me to pay with cash?” Bucky asked. He and Sam quickly looked back at Peter who was fuming with rage, and he swore that he squeezed the scooper so tight that he dented it.
You nodded your head, perfectly knowing what they were doing. Peter had told you countless times about how Sam and Bucky would tease him, and you figured that they must know that you two are together. 
“Here you go darlin’” Bucky handed you two five dollar bills and when you opened the cash register, you saw a receipt in between the bills. 
You glanced at it, and immediately gave it back. You swore you saw something that he bought but didn’t want to question it. “This was in between the bills.” You slid it across the counter subtly, trying not to make a scene.
“Oh shit, my bad.” Bucky laughed. “I had to run to the store to get my extra large condoms and completely forgot about the receipt. Gotta be safe, right Sam?”
“WHAT?” Peter yelled. He marched over to you and put his arm around you like he was trying to protect you, even though the worst thing about this was the pain in your ribs from trying not to laugh. “You two, leave.”
Sam and Bucky shrugged their shoulders and waved back to you, and you gave a light smile in return. 
“I am so sorry about them, I swear when I next see them-”
“Peter, calm down. It was just a joke, and it was not like they are some creep I don’t know. In fact, last week they told me about the joke to ask if I was ok with it when they payed for their ice cream.” You explained to Peter.
The wheels in Peter's head started to turn and it all clicked. He wondered why you were laughing last week with them, he just assumed they told you some embarrassing story about him failing training. 
“I feel really dumb right now.”
“It’s fine, you know I would never leave you. Now, come on Petey, it’s closing time and we need to kick everyone out.”
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sunshineandaisies · a day ago
Eight Letters
Words: 935
Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader
Warnings: language, the briefest mention of sex, ANGST
Inspired by: 8 Letters - Why Don't We
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There are so many things that Peter loves about you.
He loves the way your tongue peaks out between your lips when you’re concentrating too hard on your chemistry homework. He loves the way you doodle in the margins of your notebook when you get bored in history class. He loves the way you draw patterns on the back of his hand absentmindedly during movie nights with Ned and MJ. He loves the way your nose scrunches slightly and your eyes crinkle when you laugh. He loves the way you look with nothing but his baggy t-shirt on.
He could go on and on.
There are so many things that Peter loves about you, but he just can’t bring himself to admit - to himself or to you or to anyone else - that he loves you.
It’s not that he doesn’t want to love you. It’s just that people he’s lost people that he loves.
He loved his parents, and they died. He loved Uncle Ben, and he died. He loved Tony, and he died.
Sure, there are plenty of other people that he loves - like Aunt May, Ned, and little Morgan - that he still has, but he doesn’t want to risk it.
Peter doesn’t want to lose you too, so he doesn’t say it, doesn’t acknowledge just how deeply he feels for you.
And some days he wonders if that’s fair to you, to deprive you of something you so freely have him months ago. The little 'I love you' had tumbled from your lips so easily as you laid tangled in the sheets beneath him, breathless and beautiful and so entirely too good for someone who felt as broken as he did. After that day, you spoke the words often, but you never expected anything from him in return.
You wait so patiently for him, and for that alone Peter wants to love you. You gave so much of yourself to him - your time, your body, your heart - and Peter wants to return the favor, but he just...can’t.
He’s come close to telling you what he knows you want to hear. He’s come so goddamn close, but every time the words are at the tip of his tongue, he swallows them whole and pushes the feelings down, down, down, down until they’ve disappeared from his mind completely. It’s like the minute he finally gives in to just how strongly he feels for you, you’ll slip through his fingers one way or another, and he’s not sure he could survive that.
He was still raw from Tony’s death, after all, and if he lost you now...
He’s pulled from his thoughts by a light flick on his forehead, and he lifts his eyes from his still blank assignment to see you smiling softly at him. “I can literally feel you thinking too hard, Pete,” you tell him, and though there’s a teasing lilt to your voice, he can see just how concerned you are in your eyes. “Wanna talk about it?”
He smiles at you in return, but the smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “No, it’s nothing,” he lies. You see right through him, just as you always do when he gets like this. He cups your face, the pad of his thumb brushing over your cheekbone tenderly. “I’m fine. I promise.”
You don’t push, you don’t prod. You never do. Instead, you give him the time he needs to sort through his thoughts and feelings, knowing that eventually he’ll open up. And when he does, you’ll listen closely, give advice if the situation warrants it, and reassure him that everything’s okay despite the worst of his worries.
It’s one of the many things that he loves about you.
“I love you, you know,” you say instead, leaning forward to press your forehead against his. Your breath fans over his face, smelling of the spearmint gum that you’re always chewing on, and the familiarity of it, of you, helps him relax just enough to forget his fears for a moment. Your fingertips trail down the length of his arm to his hand, entangling your hand in his.
You help ground him, anchoring him to you and to the present, and, again, he thinks you deserve to be loved in a way that he’s not sure he can. You deserve so much more than he can give you.
He wants to tell you as much, but Peter also wants to be selfish and never let you go.
So instead, he says, “I know.”
You don’t deflate when he doesn’t say it back. You don’t frown or rip your hand from his or run from the room in anger and frustration and sadness. Instead, your smile grows wider before you press your lips to his.
Peter feels the guilt creep in, slowly overtaking the fear, and he wants to just say it so badly. He wants to tell you, over and over and over again until you’re sick of hearing it. But he doesn’t. He can’t.
“Y/N, I-” He tries, he really fucking tries, but he chokes on the words. Why is it so hard to just tell you what you deserve to hear? Why is it so hard to say it back? He feels so frustrated and so, so goddamn undeserving of you, and it hurts to think that he could be hurting you by not saying it back.
It shouldn’t be this hard.
You press your lips to his again and squeeze his hand reassuringly. “It’s okay, Pete. I know.” Another kiss pressed against his lips. “I know. I promise I know.”
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itsapeterthing · a day ago
Jealous || Peter Parker
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summary: you and peter celebrate may 4th by binging the star wars movies but by the end of the day you notice he’s become distant and irritable anytime a certain character comes on screen
a/n: happy star wars day everyone- here’s a blurb with our fav star wars fan peter
word count: 622
masterlist || request || taglist
It was May 4th and being the happy couple you were, you and Peter spent your day off binging as many Star Wars movies as you could fit into the day. Now it was nearly midnight as you and Peter sat on the couch, you leaning into his chest while his arm wrapped around your shoulder pulling you closer. Yawning while the movie continued to play on the television in front of the two of you, you watched as Han Solo shot at a stormtrooper coming in his direction.
“Damn.” You yawned. “Look at him go.”
As soon as the words slipped out of your mouth, however, you felt as Peter tensed below you, his arm leaving its place around your shoulder, instead falling into his lap. Glancing up at your boyfriend, you grabbed the remote, pausing the film.
“What’s wrong?” You asked.
Still staring at the paused screen in front of him, Peter shrugged.
Nothing? Something was definitely wrong.
“Did I... do something?” You asked.
Shrugging again, Peter refused to meet your eyes.
“You’ve been talking about Han Solo all day.” He said finally, cutting you off. “Every time he comes on, you just have to say something.”
Quirking your eyebrow you looked between him in the television.
“What are you?” You asked. “Jealous?”
Finally meeting your eyes, Peter raised his voice.
“I’m not jealous!” He exclaimed.
“You’re totally jealous.” You teased.
You couldn’t believe it. Your boyfriend was actually jealous of a movie character and the casual compliments you had apparently been throwing him the entire movie marathon.
“He’s not a real person, Peter!” You yelled. “You have nothing to worry about-”
“But if he was real you would want him instead of me, wouldn’t you?” Peter asked, pushing himself up off of the couch.
You couldn’t help but laugh.
“Oh my God, Pete!” You shouted. “Do you realize how dumb this conversation is? I mean a few hours ago you told me Leia was your childhood crush and you don’t see me making a big deal out of it.”
“That’s different!” He argued, throwing his hands in the air.
“How is that different?” You asked, crossing your arms. “I mean honestly, Peter, tell me. I want to know how it’s different.”
Tugging his hair, Peter scrambled to find the words to explain it to you.
“Because what, Peter?”
“Because I love you!” Peter shouted before lowering his voice to almost a mumble. “I don’t love Leia.”
When he said those three words, the anger washed out of your body as soon as it had come. Although the two of you had been dating for months, neither of you had confessed your love for the other yet, finding other words to express your affection, too afraid to scare the other away.
But he had just said it. He had just confessed his love for you... even if it was the most laughable situation to do so in.
“You.. you love me?” You asked, wanting to make sure you had heard him properly.
Scratching the back of his neck, he nodded.
You didn’t even have to think about the next few words that came out of your mouth.
“I love you too, Peter.” You confessed. “Don’t get me wrong, the Star Wars guys are great-”
“-But none of them compare to you, baby.”
You watched as a smile suddenly graced Peter’s face as he made his way back over to his seat on the couch. Cupping your face in his hands, he pulled you towards him, bringing your lips to meet his.
“I love you.” He told you once again, pulling away.
Leaning in closer to him, your lips inches away from his, you smiled.
“I know.” 
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blissfulparker · 2 days ago
Hi! Congratulation on 10k! That's amazing and your an amazing writer! I was wondering if you could do the writing prompt: “i’m not worthy of anybody’s love.” “that’s not true, you’re worthy of mine.” followed by the lover breaking eye-contact… + a love confession. With Peter Parker x stark!fem!hero!reader? Thank you! I hope you have a great day! <3
I kept the prompt but I made this more of an angst with fluff at the end 😭
“Please, (y/n), let’s talk about this!”
Peter Parker cried out, following you with his mask off as the two of you got done on patrol. Your arms folded as you stormed away, you hated that he chased after you like this. He made it a game almost of running after you and trying to get you to go out with him.
“Stop being so stupid, stop yelling my name and put that damned mask back on before someone sees you.” You point at him and he finally freezes. You might break his heart, but he might need it.
“Why won’t you let me in? You push everyone out and let no one love you, you let yourself wallow away in your own self pity and you know what? If Mr. Stark saw how you turned out—“ before he could even finish your fist came in contact with his face.
Your father being gone was the hardest part, he may have never been your true father but he was the closest thing you ever had to a family. Him, nat, steve, Vision, all of them you thought of as family now gone. The rest of everyone spread out, leaving you all alone. All alone with peter parker.
“Don’t you ever think you have any right to talk about me and him like that. Don’t you ever!” You shout and he backs up a bit.
“You won’t even hang out with me outside of patrol, if you ever go, my only memories of you will be watching you nearly die every night.” He swallowed hard. His eyes watery and you furrow your brows, even though with your eye mask he could not see it, you were just as hurt as him.
“Ever think maybe that is best? You have your friends, what are their names? Ned! MJ, Betty, even that flash guy you talk about it sounds like you’re becoming friends. I’m not worth your time parker, I’m not worth anyone’s time of love. I’m not worththu of anybody’s love.” You swallowed hard, your arms going back to being wrapped around your waist, wanting to go home and he could sense that.
“Maybe if you give it a try you’ll realize people love you more than you think. And that’s not true, you’re worthy of my love. You always have been.” He stepped back, sliding the mask back over his face. “Call me when you’re done playing the villain.” He turned to walk away but for once you reached out and caught his hand.
“Y-You said you liked sushi...” you still weren’t sure how this whole love thing worked, you needed to start over though and peter was a good start. “Lets start there?” You try and he nodded.
Although peter parker never liked sushi, raw fish wasn’t for him but he knew that you liked it and hoped you two could bond over it.
“I actually don’t like sushi, that’s your favorite. When you love someone you start to pick up on their favorite things. It’s not creepy, just something you remember them by.” He walked past you stood still. Staring at him as he walked to the edge of the building. “You coming?” He asked and you snapped out of your thoughts to follow.
You had a lot to learn about loving again, so much to learn. But maybe, just maybe, a rooftop fight and dinner at a run down sushi place with the best boba tea was a good place to start learning again. He was a good place to start to learn again.
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peterplanet · 2 days ago
College!peter comforting his s/o about finals week stress and struggling with deadlines
bitch break my heart bc this is me rn </3
send in requests ?
peter knew that finals were going to kill you before they even started. you know that peter worries about you, but you also don’t know just how far his worry for you goes.
you don’t know that peter has a planner for himself and a separate one where he writes down everything that you need to be doing. it’s the only way that he can manage his ways of comforting you, his superhero duties, and his own college responsibilities.
it’s wednesday when you finally break down. you’re pretty sure that you failed your english paper (peter’s sure you didn’t, he proofread it), you don’t think you’re going to understand physics by your final tomorrow (peter’s sure that you’re going to because he’s helped you study and seen how quickly you’ve learned it all), and you’re almost positive that your GPA is going to tank after this semester.
peter knows that he can’t tell you that everything’s going to be okay unless you believe it as well. so, when you come to his dorm at five p.m. with red eyes and a sniffling nose, it’s all that he can do to take you into his room.
he kicks his roommate out with a pointed look and an apology tumbling for your lips. “i don’t want to kick him out, peter, ned also—”
ned cuts you both off with a simple raise of his hand and a shake of his head. “it’s not my day to be on (y/n) comfort duty, i get it.”
once ned is out of the room (most likely going to spend time with the girl that he’s been seeing recently), peter bundles you into his sweatshirt and presses a tender kiss to your forehead. “we’ll take the night off, hm?”
you splutter out an incoherent string of words, trying to tell him that you’re going to fail physics and you can’t just not study. “i’m going to fail for sure if we do that, pete, how....”
your question is left unfinished as he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead. he runs his hands up and down your arms as he tries to get you to calm down a bit. “we’ll wake up early before your test tomorrow and review everything, alright? but you’re not going to do yourself any good if you try to study in this state.”
you let out a breath of frustration, the sure sign that you’re relenting to what peter wants. “whose dick did i suck in a past life to get you as my boyfriend?”
peter laughs at that, really laughs, and the sound itself is enough to get you to relax into him. and maybe you don’t fail your physics test the next day, but if anyone were to ask you how you did, you’d tell them that your only hope of passing was given to you because of peter.
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alinastarkrovs · 2 days ago
Public sex with fuckboy!Peter pls omg I beg you
your wish is granted nonnie! also pls dont mind i didnt make it full on sex kajsdoajd also sorry for being late whoops. also pls lemme know how this was haha
Out In Public
Pairing- fuckboy!peter parker x reader
Word Count- 1039
Warning- smut, semi-public smut (in a library), fingering, remember to wrap it before you tap it!
You had no idea that you would end up in this situation, with Peter Parker, of all the people. Normally, you would be accompanied by your best friend for prep. Sadly, she was somewhere with her boyfriend, and you did not want to disturb her. Hence here you were, in the library, trying to revise. You were now so engrossed that you forgot the time and around you.
Well, at least until you got disturbed by a certain someone.Peter always loved to nag you in some way or the other whenever you were working on something or studying. It wasn’t that you had a sort of hatred towards each other, it was just that he always seemed to love to get girls’ attention on him, particularly yours.
Today was no different. He sneaked up behind you and suddenly snatched your textbook from above, making you yelp quietly.
“Peter, idiot, give it back! I need to study!” you whisper-yelled, not wanting to end up in trouble for speaking loudly.
“Who studies that much, (y/n)? You’re gonna ace the test anyway, so why this extra work?” he chuckled as you tried to take your book from him, failing of course, for he held it in such an angle that you couldn’t get it no matter what.
“Whatever, idiot. It's none of your business. Just give it back!” you tried yet again to grab your book, but failed.
“Well, I’ll give it back but on one condition.” he said, suddenly smirking. He pulled a chair and sat beside you. His hands hovered lightly on your thighs, fingers grazing on your legs.
“Yeah? What is it?” you tried not to stutter at his actions, which made your heart beat fast. His fingers made contact with your skin. What a perfect day to wear a skirt, you thought, as his fingers slowly travelled to your inner thighs, your skin tingling at the contact.
“Well, how about I show you, hm?” his eyes gaze lustfully into yours, as he licks his lips.
He pulled you closer by the chin and gave you a deep kiss on your lips, cupping your cheek. You kissed him back instantly, lips moulding with his. His tongue swiped on yours, while he cupped your thigh and came closer to reduce the distance between you.
His fingers travelled to the inner part of your thigh and travelled slowly under your skirt, touching your clothed core gently, sending little vibrations of pleasure in you.
“Come, let’s go to a corner. We won’t get caught.” he whispered in your ear and you nodded, he smirked and took you to a corner in the library. He pushed your back to the wall gently and crashed his lips on yours. His hands went to hold you firmly by the waist, squeezing them slightly. Your arms wrapped around his neck gently, slowly pulling him closer towards you as you began to make out.
His hand slowly went under the hem of your t-shirt. His fingers made contact with your skin and began moving upwards, grazing your chest with his touch. His hand landed on your bra. He cupped your breast as he swiped his tongue into the kiss, making you groan. You ran your fingers through his curls, tugging at them gently.
His lips left yours and moved down, pressing kisses on your jawline and neck. He began to suck on the skin of your neck, sucking light hickeys. His hand went down from your breast to under your skirt, touching your clothed core. You arched your head back slightly in pleasure, biting your lips to prevent from moaning out loudly in the library.
His fingers teased you through your underwear. You could feel yourself getting a little wet at his touch. He pulled away from your neck and just smirked as he watched your face slowly contort on pleasure. 
“Mm Peter don’t be a tease.” you spoke in a low voice, biting a moan, making him smirk.
“If that’s what you want.” with that he smoothly slid two fingers inside your panties. He slowly began to pump his finger in and out of you, making you let out a gasp of pleasure. He quickened his pace gradually, his fingers thrusting in and out of you smoothly.
"Oh Peter." You moaned a little. His other hand reached to cover your mouth to prevent the moans from being heard.
"Gotta be quiet now, babe? Don't want anyone to hear you being fucked by me in a library now, hm?" You just nodded in response and clutched at his shoulders as he increased his pace. You could feel your legs getting weak as he thrusted in and out, curling his fingers inside you. 
"Fuck you're so wet, darling." He whispered in your ear, making you moan in his hand. He could feel your nails digging inside his shirt as a third finger inside you.
He removed his hand from your mouth and pressed a sloppy and heated kiss on your lips. Your lips moved with his as he curled his fingers a little inside you, making you groan into the kiss as you came undone on his fingers. He groaned at the feeling of your juices on his fingers as he fingered you through your orgasm.
He slowed the pace of his fingers and slowly, he pulled his fingers out, now glistening with your juices. He separated his lips from yours. You panted heavily, fazed from the sense of pleasure running through your body. He brought his fingers to his lips and licked your juices clean from his fingers, a pop sound coming out as he removed his fingers from his mouth.
“You know what, let's get outta here. Continue where we left off in my dorm or yours.” he said, winking at you, making you smirk at him. He finally gave you your book back, which he had kept on the table. You quickly packed your stuff into your bag and fixed yourself a bit.
“Come to my dorm? It's currently empty.” you asked him, smirking at him a little.
“Hell yes, let’s go.” with that you went back to your dorm and picked up with where you had left off at the library.
The end
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hermayone · 3 days ago
sorry yall i just need to get this out because CHILE-
warning - a lil smut piece and just sweet peter okay-
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“pete...” you whimpered desperately against his bulging shoulder with wet lips from the continuous, unconsciously drooling you kept doing.
petter kissed your head delicately at the sound of your cute whiny voice calling out to him, god, he couldn’t get enough of you. the brown haired boy smiled gently as he begin to respond back to you.
“yes baby? you can speak to me, love” his soft voice matched the soft strokes of his fingers against your weeping core. you couldn’t speak, just low whines escaping you along with your withering legs that kept moving around the cool sheets of his bed.
“hmm? whats the matter, sweets? i cant understand what you what if your not telling me” peter inquires patiently, his voice soothing you to a wonderful fairytale dream that you wanted to stay in forever but his little reminding nudges brought you out of your drifting.
you let out another whine which peter tsked at.
“uh uh, babe, no more of that please. talk to me” he was being so sweet that it almost made you fall over the edge from that alone. the nice, soft but firm rubbing of his fingers against you just felt so so good. “i-it feels so good, pete..” you finally spoke with a slight croak in your voice which made peter more aroused than anything.
you know how much peter loves being praised so when you finished your words peter had a endearing smile on his face. “yeah? you like it? am i doing a good job, baby?”
“yes, please, so- so good. dont stop”
peter placed two sicking sweet pecks against your cheek that made you feel so warm inside.
“i won’t, baby, i won’t”
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blissfulparker · 4 days ago
hi bae !! congrats on 10k 💓🥳 could you write a blurb with prompt #46 from the 101 ways to say i love you list? maybe with peter where he’s obsessed with the readers hands and holding them? love uu <3
Thank you💗💗 "Your skin is so soft." W/ peter
Sleepover celebration 🥂
It was a late night, the endless rain hit the New York pavement and one specific apartment in queens. On the rare night where peter had no crime, the old radio was silent of breaking news for a break in or Robbery.
“Mmh,” peter let you stroke his cheek as you laid in bed, smiling like a boy in Christmas as he relaxed under your touch. He loved your touch, your skin, the feeling of you. “Your skin is so soft.” He barely whispers as he is so tired.
You could be going out, bowling or at a restaurant with friends on the Friday night. A kick to the weekend but you were tired with exams and peter was tired with everything. Laying in bed and hoping to fall asleep early was the best solution to a long week.
“You always say that.” You playfully roll your eyes with a giggle.
“Well it’s true.” He took your hand into his own, kissing your fingers making you smile. “Maybe I’m just use to my scars and moles and scabs and—“ he goes on but you only let your hand run through his hair.
“And I love all of those!” You promised. Peter’s lips came in to kiss yours, you could see the sleep forming around his eyes. He was so tired, you would let him sleep for days if he could but with his great power came great responsibility and that responsibility lived in the city of queens.
“You should get some sleep.” He says first, never wanting to fall asleep before you. Once he was asleep he was out for good.
“Hmm, I think you should get some sleep.” You repeat back to him and he only shifts a bit to get more comfortable under the covers.
“We should watch a movie.” He suggests, only to stay up and look at you a bit longer. His hyperactive brain also did not want to sleep.
You shift under the covers, turning away from him to reach for the lamp to make the room dark. Falling into the pillow and closing your eyes. His hand comes up under your shirt, to find warmth and rest in the softeness of your back.
“Goodnight peter.” You whispered and he only kissed your shoulder.
There was no need to stay up longer, to force himself to enjoy his time home because he enjoyed this. He fantasized about this idea when he was able to take a moment to himself. He only wanted you, and the warmth and love you brought him.
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spideyanakin · 4 days ago
mmm what about a blurb with peter parker and “are you hurt? what happened?”
🐊 Send a blurb request 🐊
Hurt 🌻
“Peter?” Peter rolled into your room, and leaned onto your wall, grunting when he did. “Peter what the heck!?” You raised your voice as you jumped out of bed. “Do you know how worried I was?” Your voice wavered. “You could have at least warned me you were going on a mission - I had to call all the Avengers- All of them! Peter-” You turned on your light and saw the most horrible sight you could see. 
He was clutching his stomach and blood was dripping out of his torn suit. He looked pretty beaten up. 
“Omg are you hurt? what happened?” Your anger dropped and you crouched to him, holding him in your arms. 
“S- Some bad guy.” He coughed barely able to think or say a word. 
“Peter-” You looked into his eyes and fear started inside you when you saw he was about to faint. “I’ll take care of you don’t worry.” 
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romanovacane · 4 days ago
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pairing: peter parker x stark!reader
notes/summary: received two similar prompts of peter taking care of the reader after a stressful day. killin' two birds with one stone with this one. smut ahead. everyone featured is of age. no longer taking smut requests.
The sensation is an uncomfortable one at that. Peter’s fingers are intertwined with yours, but his nose is buried so deep between your legs that you buck your hips up at the touch.
“P-Peter. We shouldn’t…”
“Why not.” His voice is low, slung heavy with gravel. The vibrations of his tone make you stupid. “Told you I’d take care of you, didn’t I?”
“My dad. He’s...downstairs.” All you can hear is your thunderstorm of a heartbeat, and all you can feel are his hands running up your waist to pin you where you lay. “And I have so much work to do.”
“Oh, I know. I know, baby.” Moans Peter. Finally, it seems as though he’s listening. Your eyes, brimmed with tears, meet his past the dip of your stomach as he pulls away. There’s a line of spit that trails after him, wetness dribbles down his chin so that it glistens in the moonlight. “I know. You’ve been working so, so hard. And you need a break.”
Then, his nose moves back into place and your thighs wrap around his head like a pair of ear muffs. Weakly, your fingers leave his to grip the bedding underneath you, a sob of sorts slipping past your lips - despite the fact that you had just warned him that your father was no more than a few steps away yet.
He already despised the fact that you were working on this case together, let alone for SHIELD. Just imagine the look on his face if he caught sight of his little girl playing hooky with her lab assistant.
You hitch at his once again as Peter swirls his tongue around your clit. His hands have left yours as well to make homes in the inner of your thighs. Subliminally then, you curl up, back arching off the bed as you dig your head deeper into your pillow. You drag out this long sigh of a breath, and it makes Peter chuckle.
“Good girl. Now you just let yourself go.”
And so, you do.
my inbox
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sam-hollandsgirl · 5 days ago
Hey how are u ? Can you make Sam holland as your boyfriend plz
Dating Sam Holland
Warnings: a bit of implied smut (nothing too heavy though).
Word count:400
Hey, I'm sorry for taking so long to respond. I decided to make this request a little (or not so little) headcanon, I hope you like it.
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You probably met in college or through mutual friends.
You liked each other as soon as you saw each other for the first time.
Sam seems a little shy, but I'm sure he would be the first to show his feelings and tell you he liked you.
The two of them would have the most romantic dates possible, nothing too exaggerated or fancy, but still amazing.
His family would love you.
Nikki would always invite you to dinner just because she loves talking to you.
Harry and Tom would make jokes about how much he was in love with you.
And Sam was sure that Paddy was trying to steal you away from him with all that cuteness.
Correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm sure Sam is the perfect kind of boyfriend who spoils his girlfriend.
He would give her kisses on the forehead upon waking up and before going to sleep.
You would definitely cook together, with glasses of wine or a bottle of beer in your hand, and dance around the kitchen while waiting for the food to be ready.
He would take you on a romantic picnic in the late afternoon, just because it would make you happy.
He loves your laugh, so he's always making you smile with not-so-funny jokes.
He would definitely give you several cute nicknames.
Honey and Love would be the ones he would use the most.
He would use Babe when you have a fight and he wants to apologize or when he wants something, then he would look at you with puppy dog eyes and just say "Please Babe.
He would call her angel at special times and dates like their anniversary, or when he wants to compliment you "angel, you look so beautiful."
But princess would be his favorite, he would only call you princess in bed.
He also loves your moans, mostly because he knows he's the only one who can hear them.
He takes hours eating you because he likes your sweet taste and he loves to make you cum with his tongue just to enter you next and feel you pulsating around him.
And yes, he would be as loving as possible after sex, he would clean you up and lie down next to you, pull you close to him and hold you for the rest of the night.
Talking until finally falling asleep.
I think everybody would love to be Sam Holland's girlfriend.
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romanovacane · 5 days ago
could you do peter and reader playing mario kart together?? that’s like my dream scenario lol <3
pairing: peter parker x reader
notes/summary: we love some good old fashion friendly competition by a not so friendly duo .. thank you for the ask, nonnie!
The night wasn’t supposed to turn out like this. Manhattan midnight seeps through your bedroom window, and Peter sniffles at the coldness. The curtains flutter back and forth in the wind like ghosts in a lonely valley. You pant a spitfire of sporadic grunts, and the mattress groans from underneath you. A sad mantra croaking the toils of arousal during the sheer hours of the night.
“I am so gonna kick your ass.” You all but grouse at the boy beside you. Thumbs pad as quick as greased lightning across the console, eyes glued to the TV screen with conviction.
Peter pulls a laugh out of his chest. “You said that two hours ago. And I have yet to see this so-called ass kicking before my own eyes.”
Yahoo! Yoshi takes the lead. Peach tails close behind. “Coconut Mall” crescendos from the speakers, and although you’re well aware that Gwen is one room over, you are too close to the finish line to stop now.
“Just watch. You just watch.” Your bottom lip is trapped between your teeth now. Brows furrow as you subliminally twist with the virtual pink car on screen. Your shoulder presses into Peter’s, you’re so close, and he shifts to prop his weight against yours.
The familiar checkered finish line was well on the horizon. You push off the bed, a curse slips, as you drive the princess forward. That stupid green thing treads behind now. A few more seconds. Just a few more seconds.
You lost. The switch slips from your grasp and lands onto the carpet with a thud. Your jaw, slacked right open; your eyes, wide as dinner plates. A sudden hand pats your shoulder then, once, twice, and you glare up at the shit-eating grin on Peter’s face. He breaths out a chuckle.
“Better luck next time, peaches.” Encourages the boy, hand still perched on your shoulder. “Good game.”
You blink. “What.”
You squint at him, suspicious. “What did you just call me?”
“Your name.”
“My name’s Peaches now?”
Peter’s eyes widen. Even through the fluorescent lighting, you can see him flush. “No. I meant Peach, like, just Peach. Princess Peach, y’know, your character’s name?”
You cock your head up. “Right.”
“Yeah.” Pipes the boy. His voice, evidently shot up an octave. “Yeah. S’not like I was calling you ‘peaches.’ Cause that .. would be weird .. right?”
“Totally.” You blink because you can’t bring yourself to do anything else.
There’s quiet, save for the Nintendo song on loop. Peter averts from your gaze, and you watch as his apple bobs up and down his throat. He’s nervous all of a sudden. Why is he nervous all of a sudden? Peter makes a noise then - somewhere between a cough and a sob - and, without warning, crosses the room.
“It’s pretty late.” Whispers Peter.
“It is.”
“I should probably get going now.”
“Probably should.”
He blinks at you, and you can gather a hint of a smile on his face among the moonlight. The door knob turns. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“G’night, Y/N.”
A beat then. You just couldn’t help it. “Night. Peaches.”
One final time, Peter rolls his eyes at you, corner lip curled lightly; then he disappears behind the door. Oh, tomorrow was, indeed, going to be a good time.
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cherrytholland · 5 days ago
Please please please do a peter Parker x reader social media au where she lyric pranks him with either lyrics of “no guidance” or “white tee” (the girls part) oh and they’re not dating yet so poor baby angel peter gets extremely flustered!! Maybe they confess? Thank youuu😭❤️
i went with white tee for this one hehe
warnings: language, VERY suggestive, dirty texts you get the point
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spideyanakin · 5 days ago
Omgggg could you do a Tom Holland blurb with these ideas
“Because I fell for you, isn’t it obvious?”
“Look me in the eyes and repeat what you just said.”
“If it means anything, I love you.”
Where like Tom and her have been fwb and he finally tells her he has feelings and she just can’t believe it because he’s been so shitty in the past. But then she believes him and they tell each other they love each other. Ugh idk if you do smut but I would love like slow soft making love kinda smut. Ugh I’d just die ♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️
🐊 Send a blurb request 🐊
Feelings 🌻
“If it means anything, I love you.” Tom whispered as he looked down at you, brushing your cheek with his thumb. 
Suddenly your cheeks warmed up under his touch. You propped yourself up on your elbows, holding on tight to the covers so they wouldn’t slip over your body.
You looked into his eyes for a second - almost at lost for words. It had been three months since you had made that friends with benefits pact and all your hopes of not falling for him had went out the window. You had and hard. And apparently he felt the same way too. 
For a second there you didn’t know what to reply. He had been awful to you previously - and you didn’t know if you should believe him.
You squinted your eyes. “Look me in the eyes and repeat what you just said.”
“I said, If it means anything to you, I’m love with you.” He blurt out again. “I’m sick of this friends thing.” He looked away and then back to your eyes, not feeling so confident all the sudden.
“Why?” You sounded hurt.  
“Because I fell for you, isn’t it obvious?” 
“You’re lying to me.” You shook your head. “I wish it was true, but I can’t believe you.” 
“Y/n/n” He took your chin so you’d look at him. “I’m sorry for all those things I did.” He mumbled. “But they were because I fell for you and I didn’t know what else to do then be a little mean...” Shame was suddenly written all over his eyes. “I didn’t know if you wanted more then what ever this is.” 
You took his appearance in for a second. 
“You’re an idiot.” You snaked your hand around his neck and pulled him into a kiss.
“I knew why you were awful to me. I always did - why do you thing I kept this up?” He stayed silent. 
“So...?” Hope riddled in his eyes as he realized what you were saying.
“I love you too, you idiot.” 
Taglist - @averyfosterthoughts @justifymyfeelings @slytherinambitious​ @ourfavoritesergeantbarnes @criminaly-supernatural @trustfundparker​ @tomhollandreads​ @prettysbliss​ @ksmy-99​ @sarcasticallywitty15 @bi-lmg @nerdy-collector-festival​ @lovely-blackinnon​  @hunnybunimdun​
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cherrytholland · 5 days ago
Hey lovey :) hope you are doing well! I was wondering if you could do a social media au or a blurb (it's up to you!) about the reader being new to Peter's school, also to the usa, and she seems super shy, until she starts being friends with MJ because of some book she was reading, and they see she's actually super outgoing?
i chose to do a smau bc i knew if i did a regular blurb it would get to be way too long lmao. also idk where this went in the end but oh well i hope you enjoy :)
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miseryholland · 7 days ago
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summary; days are repetitive, post partum consuming every bit of you. what will it take for tom to open his somber eyes and notice ?
warnings; post partum depression, language, angst (extremely angsty), suggestions of suicide, possible development of an eating disorder, self doubt & manipulation maybe, possible toxicity, degrading, mentions of cheating. tom’s an asshole in some parts, fluff. suicide depicted.
a/n; not a request, hopefully this was enough closure for those that wanted a part two. this is a real situation that i have not been through myself but it does deserve some attention. requests are open, send me something.
masterlist & part 1
⚘ ˏ`୭̥*ೃ *ૢ✧ ⚘ ˏ`୭̥*ೃ *ૢ✧
You didn’t want to fucking engage with anyone.
The inkling of being told about your appearance, Delilah, or hear about someone else’s life irked you. Mediocre small talk, with people that ease over real life problems by grilling food smothered and lapped in barbecue. By people, you meant Tom’s family.
Basically, you were being forced to. Something of Tom saying ‘I’ll stay at a hotel with Delilah for a week if you don’t.’ You don’t know that you cared, you wanted to care. But how could you ? Now, here you are chucking on a pair of run down converse, extra large cargo pants, and the biggest possible sweatshirt you could find. Baggy clothes were in style though right ? It’ll be alright considering you could just make up some sort of lie like you’ve been doing.
“What the fuck are you wearing ?” An accent spits. The same accent that used to be so reverent and gentle, the one that use to have special pet names every few sentences or so. Love, darling, lovie, baby— all useless.
That voice belonged to someone that found no hope in the first and only woman pertaining to his love life. Maybe you could imagine that’s why he feels like the world is caving in around him, the uncontrollable and immense pain of him calling out to her without actually doing so, for no response. Tom often thought, ‘How can I help someone that doesn’t want to be helped?’
It was evident that you didn’t appear as miraculous and iridescent to the human eye as you once were. Merely been another week, that’s the time span Tom had given you. At first he thought it was him. That you were disgusted by his presence, that you didn’t enjoy being a new mom yet. Post partum has yet to cross his mind. Now his mind has just reared in gear to cheating. Something vile, Tom was never one to register how people could openly roam around fucking someone else with their significant other in their back pocket. It’s like everyone wants to cheat but, no one wants to be cheated on.
Tom knows he’s had plenty of opportunities to bring it up. He’s wanting to savour you and the small family that’s been created, it’s selfish of him. Simply unable to let the feeling of wholesomeness go. But right now that wholesomeness was burnt to a crisp. Presumably why he’s gone and gotten so cold. Letting all of his anger pile to prevent the sake of another fight happening. Bound to boil over anyway, and seep through the open pours that is your raging mind. Cheating may seem like a run of the mill, cliche thing to think. But Tom ‘knew’ that you weren’t his girl anymore. Tom’s love language was touch and possibly simple acts or gestures to resemblance it. From putting Tom’s socks on in the evenings after he’d came home from a long day of filming, and it was just you and him. To, always leaning your lips more forward on his bottom lip, because you knew he felt appreciated that way. Like he had all of your innocence. You knew that, you desired to touch Tom and to be the picture perfect family. But that can’t happened when you appear to yourself as five times your size, sloppy, and an unfit mother; a horrid wife.
Tom deserves to be married to someone and have a child with someone that could bare the comings of juggling all traits. Delilah was too pure for this world, you knew that. Scum like me should probably be rotting in the middle of road, waiting to be ran over by oncoming traffic.
A scoff is nearing, as he brushed past you. Entering his portion of the shared closet, you hadn’t acknowledged that you’ve taken the past ten minutes to even form a sentence. “Wanted to be comfortable,” you lie, mustering to your vanity. Only to stare down at the desk, fearing what would look back at you if you peered into the mirror attachment. You wondered if he’d put Delilah down for a nap, or where she was. You know you don’t have the right to care, because she doesn’t want you anyway.
“By comfortable, you must mean garbage bag. Why would I want to bring my wife, who doesn’t even act like my wife ..” He breathes with a crack of his voice, trying to control himself. Your skin burns, and your heart about rumbles out of your chest. Roaring at the victorious anthem of the two words ‘garbage bag’ bouncing about the room. Your lips purse to say something, but once again you say nothing because you know you deserve it. You deserved his coldness, but what was his real reason. “Just look presentable, don’t want my family thinking you’re a proper slob after years of knowing you.”
Slob, a new one to add to the list.
You knew Tom was giving up on you, it just stung into your numbness worse leaving his mouth. Hearing and feeling are two different actions. Your worst nightmares confirmed.
What the fuck is the point in living just to die.
“You’d look perfect in anything m’love.”
Car rides felt like they carried on for multiple hours. The air filled with Delilah’s babbles and the squelching noises there after from her sucking on her bottle heavily. Along with Tom’s humming to whatever beat was playing on the radio, his calloused fingertips tapped against the leather steering wheel, of his black interiored car. About two months or so again, his hand would tap against your thigh three times every few minutes to note ‘I love you’. Whilst, both screaming his playlist at the top of your lungs.
Sitting with your legs crossed, glancing at everything that crossing the passenger window. Wishing you could open the car door and jump out, damaging God knows what. Forced yoo urself to wear a pair of slightly loose black jeans and a long sleeve that use to fit so well, but now it swallows your entire body. Tom’s wearing a silky khaki button up, with some form of black pants.
Burying yourself with clothes was all you had left, apparently that’s against Tom’s rules now too. Now all he seemed to do was nag, and make it prominently obvious that you were a fuck up.
“Hold my hand, act like you love me.” Tom jerks your hand from your compiled lap, after swinging your door open. He’d been talking to Delilah the past twenty minutes and you completely disregarded all of it. What’s it matter to even speak, if I can’t be heard. If my appearance hasn’t made it obvious enough that i’m suffering, my swollen, minuscule bags beneath my eyes, disheveled hair. So unpresentable next to a dad and his daughter that would thrive without me.
Delilah’s against his hip, forcing his ring clad fingers between yours. Rings for a marriage that didn’t belong, anymore. Tom has to be small minded, you constantly thought about how he failed to noticed on plenty accounts that you were crying for help. You’ve had enough today, from the ill words Tom’s said for the past week, to the forced reality.
Tom practically pushes you in first, Nikki welcoming but your hardly remember what the greeting was about or consisted of. Tom had no remorse in regards to him thinking you were about to cheat on him. The back patio consisted of Tom’s dad, Dom grilling at the barbecue pit. Harry, Sam, and Paddy, surrounding the the outside wooden-picnic table. You’d be gone by the Time the food hit the table. Seating yourself in a chair, alongside Tom that held Delilah gently in his lap. Gaining the attention of Tom’s family.
“Grandmum’s petal, you are !” Nikki coos Delilah. There’s so much talk about food and conversation that’s meant to be entertaining but it’s simply deteriorating your mood more, knowing you couldn’t appreciate your mother in law, father in law, and brother in laws. Why be apart of this conversation if they wouldn’t even notice if you were gone? When they wouldn’t even notice you’ve been trembling with fear ? You’ve been talked to once, that was Nikki to tell you how much of a pleasant job you’d done with Delilah, after Tom lied to make it seem like you’d been doing your part.
With that, you have an unrelenting urge to slit your wrists and bleed out onto the Holland’s bathroom floor, maybe someone would care then. Your patio chair screeches the flare of your nostrils gaze once breathing in the cool-house air that isn’t smoke tainted.
Your feet are itching beneath you, for some relief. But what you didn’t know what that the moment you left your chair, Tom could’ve chased after you. Only beginning to tell himself that you weren’t worth it anymore. Cutting the corner, you slam the bathroom door shut behind you. The media once cabinet contained no form of actual razor blades— a bottle of xanax, 50 milligram. Down the whole damn thing, and so you did.
Mutters of Sam spin your counter vision while foam erupts at the corners of your mouth, “Help me, someone get Tom.”
taglist — @bi-lmg @lmfaosoph @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh @harrisonsoceaneyes @madzleigh01 @spookybooisa @grouploved
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