#tom holland x gn reader

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Wow, What A Coincidence - Tom Holland X GN Reader

Title: Wow, What A Coincidence

Tom Holland X GN Reader

Additional Characters: Reader's friend Y/F/N (Mentioned)

WC: 1,585

Warnings: None really, pure funny fluff, oh and Tom's not an actor

Standing at your bathroom mirror, you tug at your shirt one more time before looking over at yourself in your mirror smoothing out your hair. You take a step back, look at yourself again, and nod in satisfaction. Checking your phone, your Lyft driver was ten minutes away, so you grabbed your bag and made sure you had everything you needed before leaving your room and heading to the door. Slipping on your shoes, you waited by the door for your Lyft. 

Your best friend had set you up on a blind date. You weren't that excited for it, considering that all the other blind dates she sent you on ended terribly. The first guy, Walter, was terrible. He was controlling, you could tell by how he picked your food for you. Then there was Jack. He was okay at the start but couldn't, or wouldn't, pay any attention to you and flirted with the waitress. And then after that was Josh. He seemed attentive, caring, but then he wouldn't stop talking and talking about this new app he was making called Healthavetica. You were beginning to regret even agreeing to go to this one. But, your friend said that this guy was super sweet. And one of her co-workers, so she knew you would like him.

Yeah right.

Hearing a car horn, you grabbed your keys and opened your front door, locking it behind you. You checked your watch as you walked down your gravel driveway and up to the car, you were an hour early. You mentally shrugged before leaning down at the passenger window. 

"You Y/N?" He asked and you nodded, hopping into the back seat and shutting the door. Getting comfortable and buckled, you looked over at your driver, shocked at how surprisingly handsome he was. Short brown hair that was styled back, sharp jawline. His brown eyes seemed kind and warm as they met yours through the rearview mirror. A smile pulled at his lips as he glanced over at you.

"I'm Tom, I'll be your driver for this evening." He introduced himself as he pulled out and back onto the road.

"I'm Y/N, but you already knew that..." You laughed lightly, fidgeting with your fingers.

After a moment of driving, Tom spoke, "So... Do you wanna chat? Or are you a 'quiet for the entire ride' sort of person?" He had a nice accent, which surprised you. British, you would guess. "I just know that some people like to lend an ear or vice versa." He added quickly as you just nodded with an understanding smile.

"Oh, no. I get it. I'm totally down to talk if you are." You watched as Tom smiled, before turning down another street.

"Awesome, wanna play twenty questions? That's always fun." He asked, making you laugh.

"Do you play that with all your passengers?" You asked, a small smirk on your face, only for Tom to chuckle.

"Only the cute ones." He answered back, surprising you a little before you spoke up again.

"Well," You began, trying to tame the blush on your face from his abrupt compliment, "What's your favorite color?”

"Mine's blue." He chuckled again and gave you a look briefly through the mirror. "I'm surprised you didn't go for a different type of question."

You tilted your head to the side, "What do you mean?"

Tom shrugged as he stopped at a red light, "I mean, like what I think about climate change or something." He laughed awkwardly, driving again as the light turned green.

“Oh,” You began, running a hand through your hair, “Well, I like asking people easy questions. Especially personality questions. It helps me better know people. I can know what type of person someone is by their view on social matters, yes, but I feel like I can understand someone better by knowing what their favorite cereal is, for example. If ya get what I mean.” You sort of ranted, as Tom nodded in his seat.

"I get that." Tom answered. "Nowadays, people ask the weirdest and most confusing questions. It’s hard to answer them sometimes."

You both fell silent, watching the cars pass by as Tom drove down the long stretch of road. 

"So, what's your favorite animal?" Tom asked you, glancing at you in the mirror.

"Y/F/A." You quickly answered with a smile. 

"Gosh, those things are adorable." Tom gushed, as he turned into the parking lot. "I want one, but I already have my dog, Tessa. She’s already a lot to handle"

You unbuckled, "She sounds adorable." You commented, grabbing your bag.

"She is." Tom answered, "Well, this is your stop, have a nice night, Y/N." He spoke as you opened the door.

"Thank you, you have a nice night too, Tom." You answered before you shut the car door, adjusting your bag as you headed into the restaurant. 

Tom sat in the car for a moment before pulling out of the parking lot. He had to get home quickly so he could get ready. He didn't want to be late.

*^*

Sitting at a back table, you scrolled through social media on your phone as you waited out the clock. Your mind was racing as was your heart. You hoped that this guy your friend was setting you up with wasn't like the others. Checking your clock on your phone, it read 5:56, with only a couple of minutes left. Hearing the restaurant door's bell jingle, you didn't bother to look up. You then heard someone clear their throat. Looking up, your eyes widened.

"Tom?" You asked, as Tom looked down at you confused.

"Y/N?"

You laughed awkwardly, "Funny coincidence. Didn't know this was where everyone went to get dinner. Popular place."

Tom smiled bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well, actually, I am here to meet someone."

"Oh," Your eyes widened in surprise. Of course, this handsome bachelor was meeting someone, just your luck. "Do you want to sit down and wait? It can be quite lonely to wait alone." You offered and Tom smiled, taking a seat in the booth seat across from you. 

Checking his watch, Tom bit his lip. "I guess they ran into some traffic." He mumbled as you frowned softly.

"Don't worry, my date is running a bit late too."

You spent the next few minutes playing with the bent edge of your menu, Tom checking his watch every now and then, a worried, yet sad expression on his face.

Tom then looked up at you, hiding his fidgeting hands under the table, "Who are you supposed to be meeting?"

You shrugged, playing with the wrapper of your straw, "I don't know. My friend set me up on this blind date, and I hope to god that this guy isn't another jerk."

"Huh," Tom exclaimed, "I don't know mine either. Also a blind date."

You made a small sound of shock before speaking, "Wow, a lot of people are going on blind dates nowadays." Before you laughed softly, "I don't know why people don't just use Tinder."

Tom smirked slightly, "Not everyone likes to be catfished." 

A huge smile rose on your face, "Dude! Same, half the reason why I asked my friend to sort of help me out with this dating stuff. I'm not that great at it." You remark, taking a sip of your water.

Tom bit his lip momentarily, “Do most of your dates end up being jerks?” He asked and you nodded solemnly.

“Unfortunately, it’s a curse really. I really hope this guy is good. If not, I might stop this dating stuff for a while.”

Tom nodded in understanding as silence fell over you two again, Tom checking his watch again. "Really late now," He muttered sadly. "Looks like I've been stood up." 

You frowned, "I'm sorry, Tom. Who even set this blind date up for you? They seem just as bad as mine." You tried to joke but Tom shrugged, eyes downcast to the table before him.

"My coworker. Works in Technetics a floor below me. She said she found the most perfect match for me and that I had to trust her." Tom rolled his eyes, "I guess I shouldn't do that anymore."

You froze in shock, "Uh, Tom... Is your co-worker's name Y/F/N? By any coinichance?" You swallowed thickly.

Tom looked up at you with a very shocked expression, "Yeah, how did you know-”

You both stared at each other before you both broke out into laughter.

"I can't believe this! You are my blind date!" You exclaimed as Tom nodded in agreement.

"Wow, this is… This is so weird.” Tom mumbled, running a hand through his hair.

You placed your hand on your cheek, resting your elbow on the table as you gazed at him. "Well, I am glad it's you." You admitted before you sighed. “From the drive over, I could tell you were not a jerk.”

"Me too." Tom answered softly, you watched as his cheeks turned a light shade of pink before his eyes widened, “I mean, I didn’t think you were a jerk. I mean that I also am glad that my date is you.” He rambled nervously, making you laugh lightly.

"Sooo," You began, smirking lightly, "Do you wanna play twenty questions?" You asked only for Tom to laugh lightly before answering.

"Do you play this with all your blind dates?" He asked, as you gently shook your head.

"Only the cute ones."

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x gn reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #celebrity x reader #celebrity #modern au #lyft #blind date #x reader #x gn reader #x you #y/n #fanfics #fanfiction #fanfic

[betzabobababi]

Evolving Towards The Dark

Cancer fic 2

Hey olives! Welcome to my Second fic for my Cancer event. This took a while to get too, because a lot has happened in the past month lol.

Let me catch you up...First my apartment had mold in it, I moved out, then my new house burned down, I got an apartment, I went to Phoenix as a de-stress roadtrip, one of my family members passed away, I was severely depressed, and most recently, I broke my hand. I had a few WIPS and I wanted to finish one and post it so ya'll wouldn't be waiting so long for the rest while my hand healed.

Sorry I think i'm rambling, anyways, without any unecesarry delay here is 'Evolving Towards The Dark'

Summary: Change is a natural part of life, people agree to disagree, but sometimes an argument ends a life long friendship.

Warnings: Failed attempt at gaslighting, Swearing, arguing, yelling, friendship breakups, acting industry, character change.

Pairings: Tom Holland x GN!Best-friend!reader

Type: Angst

Listen to: I Can't Handle Change by Roar

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You were exhausted. Your voice was hoarse. The screaming had gone for longer than ever.

"I don't understand what you need from me!"

"I don't need anything, I want it! I want you to stop changing for the worse because I know what happens if you don't! I know how it'll end."

Tom stares at you. His face is pale and his hands are shaking. You on the other hand are stoic, barely showing any emotion. What you said before…it was true. You could tell that if he kept going down this path, there wouldn't be a path to go down on anymore.

Not for him, not for you, not for you as bestfriends. But why couldn't he understand that?

"Y/n! I. can't. Change."

"But you can change for them? You can become who they want you to be, you can change to appease the public but you can't even tell me that it's changing?"

"You know what? Fuck you. Fuck you, and your God damn mind thinking that those rumors are true, I'd never choose them over you. You're my best friend! These rumors are making you crazy, I'm the only one you should be believing and yet you aren't! You don't believe me, probably because you don't want our friendship anymore."

You scoff, genuinely surprised at his feeble attempt to gaslight you.

"I don't want this anymore? Seriously?"

You wave your arms rattling your frame, your hands start to shake, your eyes narrow glaring at Tom.

"Are you kidding me?" You say.

"You are an asshole Tom. How could you say that? I've always wanted this to last! I always will!"

"I highly doubt that." he retorts back.

"You know I'm not as stupid as you may think I am? I know you. You know me! So why is this so FUCKING HARD TO UNDERSTAND!? I swear sometimes I feel like you just go out and party to make me feel left out! Your eye bags are a clear sign of that."

"Tom! What the hell!? God damn it! You're the one that makes me look like this!"

"You stopped texting me goodnight and I stopped sleeping well, you stopped making sure I ate during the day and I couldn't get myself to keep food in my stomach. You are the problem. Why don't you see that?"

He takes a look at you once more before shaking his head…"fuck this" he says before pushing his way past you. He walks to the door grabbing the handle before he turn back at you.

"Change is a normal part of life. If you don't want me to change. Then maybe I don't want this"

With that he opens the door and slips out, slamming it once he's outside. You stare at the door in shock, what the hell just happened?

As the silence sets in you quickly walk over to the window. From there you see Tom sitting in his car, head down shaking. Instinctly your hand reaches over to the doorknob. You stop yourself. Scolding yourself for still caring. But why wouldn't you? He's your bestfriend.

Was.

The moment he walked out that door, he walked out of your life. And honestly, it was for the best. His addiction of being perfect for the industry was making him change for the worse. You'd tried to be there for him. But he just pushed you away. He built a wall so high that not even you could get through it. So when he left your life, you felt like you could breathe again.

Change is a normal part of life. But not all change is good. As our own person, we need to be careful how we change, and who we change for.

Something Tom didn't do.

Tags: @popfishjr @scarthefangirl @book-place @im-dreaming-of-youtonight

#tom holland #cancer event #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland angst #tom #holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x best friend reader #besties #best friends #ex-bestfriend #gn reader #tom holland x gn reader #b&m #cancer free #celebration event #tags #@book place #@popfishjr #@scarthefangirl #@im-dreaming-of-youtonight #moots #part 2

[clarks-letterman]

lost in reality | perv!peter parker x gender-neutral!reader

a/n — this is not what i usually post! there was going to be more smut but i didn't know how far to go with it, so if anyone wants to see something more extended, let me know! (Peter is a bit of a perv in this but i tried to make him get his comeuppance) gender-neutral, i think

warnings — smut! 18+, some brief facefucking, gore (sorta mild, but don't read if you don't like it!)

summary — Peter uses the reality stone to practice his pickup skills. With such a powerful device at his disposal, what could go wrong?

words — 3.7k

~~~

A mesh of red and blue ambled to the quarters of the Avenger's compound. No rush nor worry affected Peter as he kept one foot light over the other, heading into each step, furthering him down the hallway. It was another neighborhood saved and another day where he would be free from the thoughts of letting his powers go to waste, and his life could finally regress into normalcy for the start of the new day. While he had a kick in his step from how smoothly the night had gone—and how much his mentor acknowledged the fact—Peter felt the need for something a little more caffeinated to help him instead.

As Peter returned from his latest venture, taking no rush to get to his room, you were on your way out of the resident android's room. In your hand, a pad of Stark Industries-branded notepad paper with all but one of the Avengers' coffee orders scribbled down filled it. You would not be in Vision's room with the question of coffee being the reason, something he was physically incapable of drinking, but Wanda frequented the room, and it was likely that she was in there. You were right to assume that, and now, you planned to check the door just further down the hall to see if Peter was around.

It turned out that you did not need to go far; the bright colors of his suit caught your eye the second you stepped out into the corridor. Anything resembling Peter's mood of being on top of the world was gone, and so was that little kick that pushed him further—you could almost see him lose it in his eyes once he saw you, even from afar. You approached him with one thing on your mind, the pen and paper used to record everyone's order at the ready.

"He-," he cleared his throat before lowering the pitch of his voice, "Hey."

"He-," he cleared his throat before lowering the pitch of his voice, "Hey."

"He-," he cleared his throat before lowering the pitch of his voice, "Hey."

There was an awkward silence between the following words until you reminded him by tapping your pen to the side of the notepad to draw his attention to it and speaking up, "Your order?"

"What?" He was already blowing it. Peter glanced down to his red-spandex feet and then back to you, his voice returning to its natural pitch, "Oh, yeah, uh—"

Peter paused. He realized he did not know what he wanted, and while you found the evident attempt to appear cool somewhat endearing, you could have already been heading out to get coffee for everyone by now. Almost by reflex, you started to tap the pen against the nearly completed list of coffee orders ranging from simple menu items to oddly specific modifications to non-existent drinks. And in seconds, the pen slipped from your grasp and unceremoniously landed on the laminate of the hallway floor.

"Shit," you reached down to grab the ballpoint, but Peter stopped you.

"I'll get it."

He attempted to bend over, only to find his hand stuck to the wall. Peter quickly stood straight, subtly tugging his hand away from the wall without tearing a new hand-shaped hole in the plaster and paint. In his panic, Peter's hand stuck itself to the wall, and no matter how hard he tried to pull away from it, his hand wouldn't budge. That left you to get the dropped pen, reaching for it without the trouble of spider-centric powers messing with you.

You looked to Peter, scribbling down his name next to Tony's order, "I'll just get you what Tony gets and leave you alone with your hand. See you later, Peter."

With that, Peter was left alone and sufficiently embarrassed as you strode down the hall, and, finally, his hand let him free once you were gone. He scuttled to his room in a bout of shame and locked the door, heading to his mirror with a plan to practice asking you out. It was a simple mirror resting on the opposite side of the wall that had betrayed him, even if it was an inanimate object that could neither sway nor influence his spider abilities. He planned on using the reflective rectangular sheet as a stand-in for you but decided to change himself into something that didn't remind him of the awkward encounter he had moments ago.

Now, he stared at himself in the length of the full-body mirror, dressed in a tee sporting Midtown's gold and navy-blue colors and a simple pair of beige cargo pants. It was more on your level, casual clothes that were unlike the striking symbolism of his superhero suit. Peter hoped it would make him feel more comfortable talking to you, as he wouldn't discern the need to be perfect in everything he does around you. He could be Peter.

The first words he spoke to himself in the mirror were natural, not meant to sound broody or cool. It was how he usually talked: voice cracks and diffidence-galore, "Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to swing me to get coffee with you?"

Peter realized his slip-up and started the question over again.

"Oh my God, that's so funny that you get coffee!" He placed a hand over his chest with a fake smile to match, "I love caffeine and wanted to know if you would drink me. I mean, drink it with me?"

“Hey, I was just in the neighborhood—saving it, and all. Coffee, you-me? Then, we could come back here for. . .” He paused, knowing that he could never be that smug with you—he could barely get his powers to work! How would the Parker-Charm not blow up on ignition? “Okay, dial it back, Pete.”

"I'm hopeless," Peter let his head fall, staring at the floor. He could hardly watch himself fumble in the mirror, but the glint of a red sheen in the mirror pulled him back—the reality stone, sitting on one of the few bookshelves resting against the walls of his room. This one housed various meticulously assembled Star Wars-themed Lego sets, and the stone quickly became an amenity on the set of Boba Fett's Starship. Could he use it for this, of all things? If he did use it, it would only be for a couple of minutes. For practice, he told himself.

Many people would probably ask why a teenager would have one of the most mighty pieces of rock sitting on a shelf in his bedroom, and well, Peter wouldn't know the answer himself as to why he was allowed to keep it. According to Tony, he was a good kid, and the rest of the team knew he wouldn't use it for anything malicious, like obliterating half of all human existence. So, it was a souvenir, a relic that Peter never utilized for anything apart from letting it be some seriously cool decor and a piece he constantly bragged about to his only two friends.

He turned away from the mirror, retrieved the stone from its entrapment in the plastic bricks, and returned to his full-length reflection. The jagged edges dug into the soft inside of his palm in retaliation to the pressure as he squeezed it with a closed fist. With a single thought—one that held details of nearly everything about you—a soft ring of smoke formed a couple of feet away from him on the carpet. His heart thrummed as it quickly moved upward, revealing your form as it went. After a few moments, the puff of smoke faded as it rounded your head, topping off the manifested version of yourself.

Nothing could compare to the real you, but this was close.

The imagined version of you standing before Peter looked like the spitting image of you, almost to the point where, if dressed the same, it would be impossible to tell the two of you apart. Almost. But, there was one thing that let Peter tell the visually deceitful version of you apart from the real one: he couldn't hear a heartbeat. He figured that, while you looked the same on the outside, the inside was missing a few vital features of the real you.

Regardless, Peter struggled to remember that information since your lesser interpretation was still stunning enough to make his heart sink into the never-ending pit in his stomach. His feelings got the better of him, and Peter started his practice in err from the moment he opened his mouth.

He held the stone tight, waving his other hand to you, "Hey—hi, do you know who I am?"

"Yeah, you're Peter." You stated it as if he should have known that already, and he noted it. From what he could tell, you had at least some part of the memory of your actual self, so maybe this version of you could provide an accurate reaction to asking you to get coffee with him.

"Okay, cool. Cool. Yeah, that's. . . cool," Peter trailed.

"Why do you keep saying cool?"

The only problem was that you were real. Unduly real. Down to the slightest mannerisms that anyone but Peter would be able to catch when they spent time with you, and with your stunning looks and perfect quirks brought about by the stone, Peter could remember everything about you. He could hardly hear the absence of your heartbeat from his' sonority, ultimately distracting himself from his original intent.

"So, what did you wanna ask me?"

"You. . . you ask a lot of questions. But, I wanted to know if you could—"

Peter was finally going to get the words out, albeit to someone who was only pretending to be you. He wouldn't have to worry about finishing that project he procrastinated on—this would be his big success of the day. But his web-shooter had gone off erroneously across the room, spraying against the walls and pouring onto the floor from its canister. He jumped away from the source and nearly dropped the stone in the process.

Peter's mind was fleeting, even his rehearsal was going wrong, and he immediately thought of an old trick for speaking to people that he hadn't needed since a young age—he imagined you in your underwear. He didn't mean for it to happen, but if he thought it, the stone made it a reality for as long as he held the little rock. He watched as a red puff of smoke took your clothes into the air, vanishing from your body in less than a second. Underneath, a simple pair of boxer briefs clung to your nether region. Maybe it wasn’t all about the practice to Peter. His mind had thought of this, so it couldn't be that bad to indulge in it.

"Could you come over here?" He asked, throat dry. He needed to feel you to confirm he had not gone completely insane from one too many hits on the head. Peter defeatedly took a few steps to his bed, sitting down on the edge of it. "Please?"

His heart pounded with each step you took, accepting his wish to draw near. Peter could not help but watch your vulnerability follow ostensibly close behind. In just one beat, you stood directly in front of him. He watched your knees rise and fall on either side of his legs as you sat on his thighs. Peter felt the warmth of your presence, the surprising weight of you on his hairless and sinewy thighs, even if you were empty inside.

Peter was bristling, brown eyes wandering over your exposed form. His body felt immovable, no matter how much he wished to drop the stone and watch you vanish. His head was the only thing not to freeze, the rest of his body turning into a well-sculpted monolith. His jaw moved with a bit of tension, "I didn't ask you to do it like this."

"No, but you thought it."

"How did you. . . ?"

"You thought that, too."

Peter realized that he was practically having a conversation with himself, just through the guise of your face. The details became more apparent; the color of your eyes, the set of your mouth, and the same smile lines appeared as he thought about its utter perfection. He connected that now, asking you to come closer only worsened his issue. Your presence over his prominent bulge made it push the limits of its cotton confines. Slowly, his marble arm broke from his reserved mold, and an empty hand cupped your cheek the same way he had always thought about doing it. He would use both, but one was occupied with creating his living dream. Then his hand slid away and around to the back of your neck, your hair brushing his chewed fingernails and overly scraped knuckles.

He knew that guiding you into the kiss was redundant as he could think about it, but this was far more passionate. As he brought you close, the thought of your smell and the feeling of hot breath joining in concordant timing against each other's skin started to fill his head. At the touch of your lips to his, Peter kissed like someone who had nothing to lose. Like he didn't have the responsibility of seeming to have it all together placed foremost. Like he could be a needy and desperate mess for more than a passing swing around New York. Only now, and only because of you.

His impetuous thinking decided that taking care of his problem now would mean that he could resolve everything else later. He needed to take care of it now; it was the only thought running through his head. Desire.

Breaking away, Peter silently commanded you to slide off your boxers and get on your knees. He caught a glimpse of you as you followed his direction, surprised by how his mind subconsciously filled in the gaps for everything he had never seen.

Your hands worked in a way that left their presence unknown until they were hooked into the band of his boxers, easily tugging down on the well-worn stitching to free Peter's springy dick. He watched your eyes ogle it and how you took it into your hand without a second thought, and while he filled your hand well, he couldn't help but think about his inadequacy. He had seen his teammates' sizes after sharing training sessions with them. Not that he was looking on purpose, but mostly out of insecurity. Peter already paled in comparison to the heights and builds of the others, and while he was far from small, they didn't make him look all that great. Peter started to wonder if the stone affected him in the same way it did you.

With a single thought, he decided to test it. He watched his shaft grow bigger and chub up with a thicker girth. Your hand could barely wrap around it as it had with his true size. It felt like an innocuous veneer to gaining the confidence that he never had. As a result, he was eager to get you on him and make you squirm like one of the criminals he spun webs around.

In seconds, your lips formed an imperfect circle and took the head of the arachnid, and the rest of him, as if it were nothing. Your lips brushed his decent smattering of hair around the base of his cock without convulsion. This version of you had a throat that fit around him like a cock-sleeve, hugging his girth without any of the need for restraint.

"No gag reflex? This is better than any toy I ever made."

Peter's hands found their way back to the rear of your head, controlling the pace at which you took him for his own pleasure. The sheer feeling of something far better than lubed-up rubber made him go wild.

At a certain point, he couldn't remember when his mind started to break reality further than he thought until he was suddenly yanked back to it. Peter started to feel effervescent guilt towards his actions. This is what he wanted, but not how he wanted to get it. Quickly, Peter felt the heavy weight on his chest return, the need to right himself by putting an end to this. He hated that he changed himself to impress something that wasn't even you. He wondered what his mentor would think, what you would think, or how you would react. A small shift inside him sent that weight toward his hand, the one he held the stone in, and it went from its dormant glim keeping the illusion alive to a bright shine, creating something new.

"Get off, get off, please," Peter asked, thinking the words in his head as hard as he could to free himself from his twisted fantasy. You let his stiff, unrelieved dick pop out of your mouth and got off your knees.

"What's wrong, Peter?" He had thought that, too. What was wrong with him?

He could barely stand to face you, but he needed to acknowledge you to make you leave. When he did work up the nerve to look in your direction, the guilt glared back at him. He felt like a creepy monster for even thinking it was a good idea to give in to his urges. The feeling overtook him so much that he didn't even realize your gradual change.

At first, it was your face. The pleasureful expression turned into a sour one, eyebrows funneling together and your upper lip upturned. But, the features of your face pressed forward as if they were made of putty and someone was trying to claw their way out. They stretched out and ballooned until they burst, leaving you headless. Your body went without a head for a few seconds before the more seasoned details of his mentor formed in your absence.

He kept his hand flat, wicking it away from his body and the rest of his arm with the hope that the stone would fall off, but his powers had already made that choice for him. Then, he thought of his suit, his web-shooters, and the communicator that could signal Tony. If he drew attention to the issue, it would resolve itself, but could he successfully explain everything as if it were the typical morning paper arriving at the doorstep? He could try, or at the very least, lie. But that would never solve this issue, though, not in the long run.

Peter formed a mental map of the fastest route to his closet in his head and decided that his backup web-shooters might be strong enough to hold the illusion down and give him time to pry the stone from his nonreciprocating palm. He turned, locking eyes with the monster as it started changing again.

Peter looked on in horror, the stone shining its brightest and shading the monster in terrifying red like a stop sign you see at the last minute when your heart sinks at the thought of being crushed. The soft tear of wet, stretching flesh and its stringy reformation flushed his ears as the beast before him grew. The harsh snap and sound of bones splintering from the fattening weight pierced his sensitive ears; nothing new to him at this point in his life, but he had never heard so many cracks and gushing wounds. Yet, through all the bodily changes, Peter never broke his stare with the amalgamation of his worst thoughts. Its eyes never left him, either. The cold and frighteningly dead stare of non-existent emotion didn't phase him until he heard a heartbeat, one that he believed came from the creature itself.

However, it wasn't the monster's—it was yours, heavy-thudded blood-pumping. The real you and your usually pleasant voice calling for his response. From the other side of the door, he heard you pleading for him to answer and affirm that he was okay. He figured that you must have overheard his distress and the ensuing raucous.

Peter reached for the stone but stopped. Everything was gone. His suit still sat in a messy pile on the floor, but the webbing was gone from the walls. The stain on the carpet was no longer there, and his pants were the only thing absent from his body, but nothing left the confines of his boxers. Had all of it really been in his head?

He quickly answered the door without any precaution, seeing your face still intact.

"Hey, I got you something different than Tony's. I was in line and remembered when you drank out of his cup by mistake and spat it all over the counter. Are you okay? I thought I heard a girl screaming."

“Thank you, and it wasn't a. . . never mind. Do you want to come in and hang?”

“Yeah! But get some pants on first, Spidey. I can't have my thoughts get to me.”

#dark fic #peter parker x male!reader #peter parker x gender neutral reader #peter parker x reader #spiderman x gn!reader #spiderman x male reader #spiderman x reader #peter parker x male reader #peter parker x gn reader #peter parker x gender neutral!reader #tom holland x reader #tom holland x male reader #tom holland x gender neutral reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #spiderman x y/n #spiderman x you #dark!peter parker #dark!peter x reader #dark!tom holland #perv!peter parker

[sparklingsin]

could i request a netflix and chill for peter with the prompt delay? maybe he’s going on patrol? 😏

-cutetomholland <3

delay

— peter x gn!reader | blurb, smut 18+ MDNI | @cutetomholland behold, god tier prompt, SLIGHTLY pervy!reader and mediocre writing

Peter stepping out of the shower is a mesmerizing scene; something straight out of a soft-core erotica.

A crisp, white towel, feather soft, sits snugly around his waist— a corner tucked right into his Adonis belt to hold it together. He's wet, very much so, only half dried and radiant. Freshly beefed from his morning workout, and as he runs his nimble fingers through his shampoed hair, you feel your eyes glaze over, jaw go slack.

Peter is mostly busy with Avenger duties these days and the little free time he gets, he spends with you, in your arms. Of course, this time is hardly enough— an eternity would fall short— and his dazzling, sun-kissed skin only makes everything harder.

A sheen of water encases the freckles dotting his skin, the tiny droplets pebbling like little shingles of glitter reflecting the sunlight. As he turns towards his wardrobe, shoulder muscles rippling, droplets from his drenched hair slide down his back triggering a twitch of your tongue and somewhere down south.

He pulls on a pair of boxers under his towel, but gets it on without much struggle. Some, wicked part of you wishes he'd have turned around to give you a little show. Oh, well. You watch, captivated, as he pulls his Spiderman suit from the depths of one of the shelves. He begins to pull on the suit; stepping into the spandex and pulls it right upto his waist.

Maybe it's the straining biceps that get you as he slides one arm into one sleeve, or maybe it's the perfect curvature of his butt stretching the red and blue spandex, but before you know it, you're leaping towards him, hands turning him around to face you on their own accord.

"Babe - wha-," comes his surprised squeak as you press a heated kiss onto his lips, pushing him up against the wardrobe with your weight.

He tastes like mint and warmth— fucking heavenly— and the smell of fresh soap lingering around him only riles you further.

Peter sags against you, melting into the kiss. He's not one to shy away from surprises, but then soon, too soon, he's wrenching himself away from you, as every fibre of your being screams for more.

"Babe... I have to get to work," he says, a pout gracing his plush lips but his voice comes out throaty.

"It's been a week since I last saw you," you grumble, pushing closer still. There's an intentional whine in your voice, a calculated pucker that might be Peter's fatal weakness.

Peter's eyes widen, the pit of black in his baby browns darkening.

"Don't," he reprimands, but you grin cheekily, biting your lip and trailing your finger across the skin above where the suit hangs around his waist.

"You're insatiable," he mutters, shaking his head. But there's a slight blush blooming across his cheeks and you know you can win this. You deploy your second attack. You let your hands wander, thumbs trailing over his abs and up his front.

"I miss you. There's a difference," you shoot back.

"Po-tay-to, po-tah-to," he mumbles and moves to push you away again.

You don't budge.

"Y/N, seriously," he says, somewhat sternly, "I will have to use force."

There's a slight tremor to his voice, like he's fighting himself. Good.

You tilt your head to the side and pout exaggeratedly. "Oh baby, please. Please use force," you murmur, tugging his arm out from the sleeve of the suit and putting it around your waist. You push up against his chest.

The red across Peter's cheeks darkens.

"You're making this so hard," he mumbles, as you move up to kiss his chin, gently at first and then suck slowly. A third attack.

"Believe me, I'm trying to make a lot of things hard," you whisper, kissing up the length of his jaw and towards his ear. You dart your tongue out to lick the shell, a ghost touch at best, as your other hand dips into his suit and brushes against the base of his cock.

The final offense.

Peter lets out a strangled moan at that, his fingers digging into your back. His grip on your other arm loosens, and he angles all of his body towards you. His breathing deepens.

You know you've got him.

"I just wanted to show up at the HQ, before patrol, on time for once," he grumbles as you drag him towards the bed and push him gently onto it.

He plops onto it with a little oomph, the drying curls of his hair bouncing. You smile at his genuinity, before climbing into his lap.

Ah, home.

Victory.

"Don't worry," you muse, lip curling, as Peter settles back onto the bed.

"I'll make your sacrifice worth it."

valentine's day celebration

#you can read me for filth in this blurb #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker fic #peter parker #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #peter parker smut #tom holland smut #spiderman #peter parker x gn!reader #ash: bmv #mywriting

[bi-disaster-yn]

About You

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Reader can’t help but feel they are missing someone and also feels a real connection to Spider Man but can’t explain why. (Inspired by About You by The 1975).

Set after the events in No Way Home! As always, Peter is aged up to be in his early-mid twenties.

A/N: SO basically all of my fave artists; The 1975, Taylor Swift and PVRIS brought out new music within days of each other so expect a few fics inspired by their songs! P.S this is my petition to be your favourite Peter writer.

Reader has no gender specifications and so can be read as any gender with any pronouns. I typically hate the usage of ‘Y/N’ and try to avoid it but it kinda had to be done here.

There’s something about you

That now I can’t remember

It’s the same damn thing 

That made my heart surrender

And I miss you on the train

I miss you in the morning

I never know what to think about 

I think about you

The strain on your eyes was getting more unbearable as blinking felt like razor cuts on your eyelids, yet you couldn’t pull away. An evening spent in the compound computer lab typing up mission reports became a full on research mission into the elusive Spider Man. 

It had gotten dark outside hours ago but you hadn’t been able to peel yourself away to turn the light on. Instead, you sat in the darkness, being illuminated by the various Daily Bugle videos tearing down the subject of your research. 

Your fascination with Spider Man was odd. In recent times, you had felt like something or someone was missing. There was a void in your chest which only seemed to heal at the mere mention of the vigilante with the ability to shoot webs from his wrists.

It vexed you that no one in the compound had asked him to join the avengers at the battle with Thanos - nor did they think to get his information or even run a simple background check on him. He had specific skills and was invaluable in that fight, they would definitely need him again someday.

Likewise, he had leant before Tony as he died, clearly torn apart by it. Yet no one seemed to know who he was. Clearly, he was important so none of this made sense. 

Although, being fixated on Spider Man went deeper than you considering he’d be an asset to the Avengers. Watching his movements always put fuzzy flashbacks in your brain of a sweet brunette man. All you could make out was brown curls and a smile on a distorted face but it brought you immense comfort. The blurred visions included his laugh and holding his hand. Sometimes they were a bit more detailed and he’d be laying on your chest as you rubbed his back. Yet, despite giving yourself headaches by try to force yourself to remember, the face was never quite decipherable.

You couldn’t recall ever seeing this man but still these images felt like memories and the feelings they inspired in you were real. The mystery of him and his supposed importance plagued your mind as you felt you were running endlessly in circles for answers. Whenever your focus wasn’t on a particular mission or other Avengers business, it would always find a way to go back to him.

Biting your thumbnail, you rolled your eyes as the presenter on the Daily Bugle reprimanded Spider Man again. You would have preferred a more complimentary source for your research but this seemed to be the only resource that took anything to do with him.

All of a sudden, the lights switched on in the lab, startling you and leaving you disorientated. Adjusting your eyes, you looked up to see Sam with folded arms and giving you a stern look.

“Crushing on Spider Man again?” He asked with a playful smirk which put you on defence mode.

“Sam, there’s something there! I know there is.” You snapped back grumpily, tired of everyone underestimating Spider Man’s importance and putting down your ideas as obsessive ramblings.

Sam nodded, seemingly different than before. “Oh, I know. That’s why I’m putting you on a mission to recruit him.”

You raised your eyebrow in surprise, so used to having this subject brushed off when you broached it that this all seemed a little too good to be true. “Wait, what?”

“I don’t want to be the kind of captain that puts my team down when they genuinely think something is a lead. You’ve been focussed on this for weeks now. So, go and do it. Go find Spider Man and at least try and bring him in for a conversation. I wanna meet him.”

With this you were leaping out of your chair and throwing your arms - rather unprofessionally - around Sam’s neck. He chuckled in response, lightly patting your back.

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” You exclaimed in a rush to get the words out, grateful for your Captain to show some faith in you. “You won’t regret this!”

“I hope not.” He warned. “Now get planning, I want an update in a week.”

***

Finding Spider Man was relatively easy. From your research you managed to work out that he must have some connection with the police department as every time they were alerted to a crime, he seemed to appear. Getting a police radio was also easy, the NYPD couldn’t exactly object to approval from Captain America himself. 

A signed warrant from Sam was exchanged for a radio and you waited it out to pick up something so you could intercept your target.

You had selected a late Tuesday night for your recruitment mission and had invited Joaquin Torres along as back-up. All geared up in your mission suit, you sat atop a building waiting for an update on your radio while linked up to Torres on the ground.

“I mean, how do you go from fighting Thanos to waiting for petty crimes to happen?” Joaquin asked you over comms.

“Maybe he had an existential crisis.” You laughed back.

It was bitingly cold and there was a soft crunch in the snow beneath your boots. The wind seemed to howl aggressively around you. Honestly, only idiots would leave the warmth of home on a night like this. Or people on a mission.

Although, the cold seemed to bring with it more hazy visions of the brunette man. You swore you could smell cheap coffee and doughnuts as you thought about the man taking off his scarf to wrap it round you, revealing the ugly Christmas jumper he’d had on underneath which was forest green and emblazoned with a snowman. Suddenly, it didn’t feel so cold anymore.

The radio murmured as a report came through of a robbery a few blocks from where you were. Whilst crime wasn’t actually something an avenger should root for; you couldn’t contain your excitement at the possibility of meeting your favourite superhero.

“Ready to get some robbers, Torres?” You smiled a bit too happily as you launched a zipwire to transport yourself from building to building.

 “Well, it’s not what I trained for in the army but I’m up for anything these days.” He responded before stepping on the gas in one of the Compound’s most discreet jeeps.

In the distance, you spied a figure in a red and blue suit making their way towards the bank. You swallowed thickly, feeling as though your heart was threatening to propel itself up into your mouth. After the months of research and the unexplained mystery, this was it.

You managed to land on the roof of the building where he was standing, ready to make his next move. Sensing you immediately, the vigilante turned round to face you and his eye details on his mask comically widened. He stood frozen in front of you, looking down at the webshooters on his wrists before back at you with caution, as though he was reluctant to use them on you.

He recognised you.

“Don’t worry about the robbery, my associate will deal with that. I just want to talk.” You announced and made a step towards him with your hand reached out to shake.

His recoil was automatic as he edged backwards to avoid your touch. A frown painted your features, shocked by his standoffish nature. The intensity of feeling he had given you was so great that you hadn’t considered that he would not automatically reciprocate it.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to bombard your patrol.” You started, trying to compose yourself and conceal any hint of embarrassment. “I’m an Avenger, and Captain America wants to meet you.”

“Sam Wilson?” He asked in a peculiarly sweet voice; the sound of which triggered the tightening in your chest and produced ringing in your ears. Suddenly, the void in you started to deepen, which only furthered your earlier frustrations. Why was he so important?

“Exactly.” It was the only answer you were capable of producing.

“He’ll be a good Captain America.” Spider Man responded. “But I can’t go back there.”

“Why?” You demanded, becoming impatient with his enigmatic nature. Every single instinct in your body told you to push this, to not let him away without the answers to questions you weren’t quite sure of yet.

In that moment, nothing else mattered except getting to know this masked man.

“I am not gonna be an Avenger again.” He stated with certainty and he continued to edge back, reaching his arm out and you knew what he was planning to do.

The web that was shot from his wrist didn’t make it very far as you lunged forward and brought him to the ground. The wind was clearly knocked out of him but he put his hands on your shoulders to try and push you off and escape. He struggled against you with groans but not with very much force. It was like he was determined not to harm you. All he wanted was to get away from you.

Evidently, he knew you well enough to not want to hurt you. Worryingly, despite how hard you tried, you couldn’t remember him.

“Who are you?!” You yelled at him. Professionalism had fallen by the wayside at this point. No longer on an Avengers mission, you were on a quest for answers about the gap in your soul only he could answer.

His hands were still on your shoulders, keeping you at arm’s length from him as he squirmed beneath you without hurting you. He was entirely capable of it. One shot from his wrist and he could have launched you off of him and have gotten away in seconds. When he didn’t answer your question, you reached up for his mask to pull it off.

Then he said it.

“Y/N, STOP!” He yelled at you. The sound of your name falling from his lips made you wince. Once careful hands became shaky and your tightened chest now felt as though it had been ripped open and left to bleed out in front of him. It was so familiar and intimate but at the same time, felt a million miles away because you couldn’t understand why this would be so significant.

You stared at each other in a stale mate, ready to see who would make the first move. He visibly softened when he saw the tears form in your eyes, ready to fall.

“You know me.” You said eventually, leaning back to sit on your knees next to him. “How do you know my name?"

Spider Man sat up, leaning back on his palms. No longer was he looking round for an escape option. Instead, he appeared conflicted and stuck. His only response was an attempt to start answering your question but eventually giving up and sighing, turning his face to look away from you.

Even though his spidey senses alerted him to your next move, he seemed resigned to his position when you successfully reached over and pulled the mask off. It revealed the brunette man from your memories, except now his face was clear as day. It was him though, and the images of him lying on your chest expanded where he’d look up at you and you’d laugh together over something silly. The sweet man who’d scrunched his face up with laughter in your memory was now reduced to the forlorn one before you.

He was so handsome, but at the same time had a dullness behind his eyes that signified how he carried the weight of the world. The friendly neighbourhood Spider Man with extraordinary abilities was simultaneously so defenceless in your presence.

Tear filled and regretful eyes met yours in a stare that was impossible to break. The man offered a sympathetic but pained smile. There was an overwhelming need deep inside you to reach forward and comfort him. Something told you that he might need it.

“I know you.” You whispered. “I know you but I don’t know where from.”

Immediately, the tears that had been kept back from the brim started to cascade down his face. His face grimaced in unimaginable pain and he hauled his legs to his chest, dipping his head in his knees. Racked with sobs, his whole body shuddered and you contemplated if you had ever seen someone so vulnerable before.

“I think about you all the time, I don’t know why.” You offered but it didn’t seem to help matters. “How do you know me? How do we know each other?”

“I can’t tell you.” He said with a broken voice, still hiding his face from you. “It’s too dangerous.”

“But we clearly mean a lot to each other!” You retaliated. “You could have easily beaten me in that fight and have gotten away by now, but you didn’t. You recognised me as soon as you saw me. Please! I’m so tired of people thinking I’m crazy over this. There’s something about you and I just can’t let it go.”

“You have to.” He replied gruffly, mustering the strength to raise to his feet and retrieving his mask from you. Powerless, you remained rooted to the floor, seemingly unable to stop him as he brushed past your arm and made his way to swing off the building.

“Goodbye, Y/N.”

There was something about the way he touched your arm and said your name that sent an electric shock through you. It was as though a part of your brain had been unplugged but now there was power again; switching on the memories that gradually seeped through. It inspired the straightening of your posture and the rolling of your shoulders. You turned round to him, uncertain why but with a desperation in your stomach to say the next thing that came from your lips.

“P-Peter?”

If the world had stopped at that moment, neither of you would have noticed it. The man spun round to meet your eyes again but this time, despite the tears still streaming from his eyes, he had a face full of hope. For too long he had been sitting in the darkness, suffocated by the weight of his own loneliness. But you came along and with you brought a flickering candle, ready to pull him into the light again.

“What did you say?” He whispered, praying and pleading internally that he hadn’t made that up, that his mind wasn’t playing a cruel trick on him. If you’d remembered him, he’d allow himself to come back to you.

“Peter.” You said again with a deep exhale, pointing to your head. “That’s all I keep hearing in my head. Peter Parker… that’s you, isn’t it? You’re my Peter.”

Without warning, Peter lunged towards you and pulled you into a tight embrace. He buried his face in your neck, brushing his lashes along your skin as he squeezed his eyes shut, letting the tears fall against your skin and suit. It felt natural when you put your arms round him and held him close.

His scent, his breathing, the definable features of his face pressed against your neck all pieced together the remaining shards of information that you had been inexplicably robbed of.

“You were mine before. Weren’t you? I lost my memory.” You mumbled to him as you held him close, getting the sense that this was the first time in a long time that he’d been hugged. "You gave me your scarf when I was cold once, and you had that ridiculous Christmas sweater. Remember?"

He winced at the memory you shared, affording himself the opportunity to let you in again. Truthfully, he'd been so terrified about putting you in danger and losing you that he hadn't accustomed himself to the fact that he already had lost you. He was fighting against that which was his current reality.

“I was yours. And you were mine.” He confirmed, letting his hands roam your back as if getting used to your body again. "And I like that sweater!"

“Why has everyone tried to keep us apart?”

“No one remembers me, that was the deal I made with Doctor Strange. No one would remember Peter Parker, it saved the world.” He explained sadly and gave you a squeeze. Although, it wasn’t the full story, you accepted it at face value. Eventually, he’d tell you everything but you had all the time in the world for that. You had just gotten him back and you weren’t going to let him go again.

“That was a stupid deal.” You laughed through a choked sob, running your fingers through his soft brown curls. His contented hum told you that this was something you had done before.

“Yeah, it was.” He laughed, pressing a loving kiss to your cheek which made your stomach flip. “I was really hoping you’d figure it out. I missed you.”

The feeling of his lips on you was something you craved again. You leaned back, letting your fingers tangle in his hair and pulled him in for a deep kiss. His hands planted on your waist and pulled you intently, as though he was trying to mould you both into one person. Lord knows, you might as well be with the connection that you undoubtedly shared.

Closing your eyes, you focused on the way the beating of your heart went into overdrive and how it thumped in your chest so hard he would no doubt feel it where he had pulled your body close to his. You had no idea just how much you had been missing up until now. Earlier theories and memories now contextualised and validated, you began to feel the void in your chest heal and feel full again.

Foreheads met and Peter pressed several pecks to your lips making you both laugh just as you had done in your memory. Your arms wrapped round his neck to achieve as much contact with him as possible, having missed him touching you for so long.

“I knew I was right about you.” You beamed as you pulled back from the kiss, brushing your thumb along his cheekbone lovingly. “I remember it now, Peter.”

Both of you exchanged a sad look in acknowledgement of the time together you’d been robbed of. Whilst the greater good demanded it, there was a particular cruelty in ripping apart two souls so intertwined with each other. Perhaps, the overlap would explain that which kept you so connected to him. Or maybe fate was just on your side.

Either way, you had endured the preview of what existence without each other entailed and neither of you were prepared to go through that again.

“How did you figure it out? I mean, what was it that made you just keep thinking of me?” He asked in a comfortable whisper, having no intention of pulling back from the embrace any time soon. You smiled in response, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

“There was just something about you.”

#Spotify #Peter Parker #mcu peter parker #mcu fanfiction #spiderman #tom holland spiderman #spider man x reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker x gender neutral reader #peter parker x fem!reader #Peter Parker x female reader #Peter Parker x non binary reader #peter parker imagine #Peter Parker x you #Peter Parker x yn #gn!reader #peter 1 #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #Peter Parker one shot #Peter Parker angst #spiderman no way home #tom holland x female reader #Tom Holland #tom holland x gender neutral reader #Tom Holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction #no way home fic

[helloheyhihowdyheya]

One Step at a Time

Peter Parker x gn!reader

Masterlist

And thank you for (over) 250 followers! Wow <3

Summary: You're not having a good day, but you do have Peter.

Word Count: ~1.8k

Warnings: Mentions of reader being upset, tired, crying. Comfort. Peter being a dork. Bad jokes. Angst. Fluff.

A/n: Inspired by my own life and @reidslovely's post here (thank you <3). Thank you for reading. Would love to hear what you think!

- -

Like a breeze drifting through a cracked window, Peter slipped into your shared apartment after patrolling. The golden hour laid against his back as he found you curled up in bed. As soon as he saw your body buried under the blankets and heard your ragged exhales, he took off his mask and came to your side. 

Though his muscles ached, he kneeled beside the bed. The red of the suit he still wore shined in the early evening light, encasing the hand he gingerly reached under the blankets. His fingers wrapped around yours, offering a lifeline – a chance to pull your head above the water.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he whispered, rubbing a thumb along the back of your hand.

The memories of today that you’d unsuccessfully tried to ignore came trickling back – until they grew into a suffocating flood threatening to break the dam. Your mind wavered, feeling exhausted and unable to do what you wanted. The same thing that seemed to happen every day.

Mornings started out okay, hopeful even that you could make it through. But then something would throw you off, make doubt and anxiety creep up your throat and paralyze you. The pillow sank further as you pressed your head into it, hoping it would quiet your brain just a little. Eventually, as Peter squeezed your hand, you found your voice.

“Work called me to ask if I could work overtime all week… and I just feel like they’re pulling me in a million different ways without letting me get a chance to breathe. But my coworker seems like she’s doing fine with it, so maybe I’m just not good at the job,” you sniffled from under the blanket, mumbling your words. 

“And then I tried to make lunch, but I burned it and made a huge mess that I still haven’t cleaned up – I’m sorry – and I went out to get myself a drink from our usual cafe to cheer me up, but someone bumped into me, so it all spilled on my new shirt.”

You took in a sharp breath, squeezing your eyes shut. “I wanted today to be productive, to feel good about how much I accomplished. But all I’ve managed to do was make a mess of the apartment and waste the day away.”

Peter had let you talk, even though his jaw ticked as he kept himself from telling you to stop being hard on yourself. He let you get it all out before whispering, “Hey. Look at me, it’s okay. Come on, it’s just you and me.” His other hand slowly pulled the blanket from you, revealing your red eyes and tear-stained skin.

You found it hard to listen to his words, let alone do what he said, when your thoughts refused to slow down – instead, they multiplied, overlapping and jumbling into a mess that only make your hiccuping breaths worse. You stared downward, blinking away hot tears, when Peter’s hands found your jaw. His calloused fingers cupped around your face, thumb brushing along your cheekbone as he brought your head up to look at him.

Through your watery vision, you let yourself fall into the deep color of his eyes, embracing the warmth and love they held. Your lip wavered as you tried stopping the next wave of tears from cresting past your lashes, your teeth digging into the inside of your cheek.

“Come here.” Peter pulled you into a hug, letting you wrap around his body while he rubbed up and down your back. Your fingers dug into the material of his suit, tried to squeeze it so hard that it would take you from your thoughts – pull you from this body that never seemed to be on your side.

Pulling back, Peter wiped the tears from your cheeks before pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’m sorry today hasn’t been good to you, and I would kick its ass for treating you like this if I could,” he said, earning a sad sort of laugh out of you.

“But you’re not some weak person incapable of handling things. I’m serious,” he said when you looked away, knowing that you were internally resisting his words. Pressing his forehead against yours, he continued. “First, your job is ridiculous for expecting you to give up your life for them. And second, you don’t need to accomplish a million things, or even one thing, to feel good about yourself. I know I’ve said it before, but your productivity does not define your self-worth, okay? I’m proud of you for making it through the day – I know it’s not always easy. But let’s start over and try again.”

Peter held you, making sure you heard his words loud and clear – forcing you to care about yourself as much as he did. Making his voice louder than the critical one inside your head. “I love you. Now, have you had anything to eat since lunch?” he asked, his voice so kind, like each word could somehow hold you together until you felt better.

You shook your head, sniffling once again. “I love you too.”

“Okay, I can quick grab some dinner and bring it back. What are you feeling?” He started to sit back on his heels, moving away just slightly.

Your hands held onto him harder, wordlessly pleading with him to stay. “Could you just order it for delivery?” you whispered, eyes fixated on the threads of the blanket.

“Yeah, of course. I’ll pull up a list of restaurants on my phone.” He came up on the bed, sitting against the headboard and pulling you into his chest. A few minutes passed as you scrolled through, willing yourself to find anything to eat.

Passing a burger place, Peter said, “I stopped a robber from stealing from that place last week. He didn’t appreciate my ‘Hamburglar’ jokes very much.”

You couldn’t stop from letting out a small laugh, pressing your face into his chest. “Do you really make conversation with the criminals you stop?”

He shrugged, a toothy smile spreading across his face. “Gotta make friends in this business somehow.”

Shaking your head, you just turned back to the list and picked out a place. “I’ll be right back,” Peter told you as he got up to grab his wallet, leaving you in the bed. 

The urge to crawl under the blanket again called to you in the cold absence of Peter, the wave of it nearly pushing you back into that mindset. But you held on, squeezing one of your hands with the other as you breathed through it.

You had this. You were capable, even when everything in the world tried to make you forget that. With a final wipe of your eyes, you slowly climbed from the bed and into the living room, one step at a time. Though your body tried telling you to go back and disappear, you kept going.

The sun still shined, the spring weather wafting into the apartment as you opened the window. It danced past you, placing warm kisses along your skin. 

You felt Peter walk up behind you, now dressed in sweats, wrapping his arms around your middle. Together, you watched the city breathe below. The skyline laid against a background of orange and yellow hues that you’d missed. A sunset you would’ve gone without had you stayed closed off under the blankets.

“Well I can’t fight the day if it’s going to look this beautiful,” Peter muttered as you laid your head back against his solid body. 

“What’s the point of having a superhero boyfriend if he can’t fight the universe for you?” You rested your arms on top of his, holding tight as you let out a dramatic sigh.

His hair brushed along you as he shook his head, a small smile on his face. Beside your ear, he whispered, “To do this.” His hand held onto you, picking you up like you weighed nothing as you let out a shriek.

He sat down on the couch, keeping you between his legs and your back to his chest. “I guess that is a perk,” you said, laughter shaking through your body. “Though… the remote is all the way over there.” You pointed over to the other side of the couch, just out of arm's reach.

“Also a good reason for a superhero boyfriend.” Peter shot his hand out toward it, webs snagging the remote.

He turned the TV on as you leaned back to look into his eyes, loving the bright glint they held. “Okay, you’ve proven yourself worthy. I’ll keep dating you.”

Even his dramatic sigh couldn’t hide his amusement, his complete adoration for you. “How generous of you. So glad I could be of service.”

The rumble of his laughter shook through you, leading a trail of warmth through your body. With your comfort movie playing on the TV, the two of you sat there. His chest rose and fell along with yours, breaths like watery swells crashing against one another. 

You only moved when the food arrived, Peter running down to grab it (but not before fixing you with a hard stare when you offered to grab it yourself.) 

Walking in with arms full a minute later, he called your name in a sing-songy voice. From behind his back, he pulled out more than just dinner. A bouquet full of colorful flowers sat in one hand while a drink from the cafe near your apartment sat in the other – the one you’d spilled earlier. 

In an instant, soft tears began to sting at the corners of your eyes as you looked at him and his nervous smile. “Thought this could help,” he said, handing you the drink and food. “You deserve it.”

“Peter…” you whispered as he started toward the kitchen. But you grabbed onto his arm, pulling him back onto the couch.

He flopped next to you, hair wild as he looked between you and the flowers. “But…” Though the look you gave him made him quickly give up. Peter couldn’t help being weak against any request you made.

The flowers were lovely, of course, but in the wave of emotion that filled your heart, you just wanted Peter right by your side. Setting everything else aside, he wrapped his arms around you, holding you against him. Only the two of you existed in the moment, everything else disappearing. The movie continued on in the background, but you stayed there, with him.

In his embrace, you could feel the weight of his earlier words – his urge to be kind to yourself. You would certainly try, as you took small steps through life. And no, not every day was going to be easy. But they were easier with Peter.

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x gn!reader #spider-man #spider-man x reader #spiderman #spiderman x reader #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #Tom holland #tom holland spiderman

[mediocre-daydreams]

Hey! I loved your tasm fic “I know you’d never” I was wondering if you could do something like that with Marvel Peter Parker? With the prompts “don’t you dare walk away from me!” And “get out of my sight! go!” Maybe the reader had a rough past and gets scared when people yell at her so flinches when Peter starts showing signs of aggression in an argument? (Sorry I’m a sucker for angst 😘)

here's the beaut! i had too much fun writing this. i wasn't able to fit the second prompt in there (sorry about that) but i tried to squeeze in the general sentiment! thanks for the request &lt;;33

'𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐲'𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡

peter parker x gn! reader

inspired by treacherous (taylor's version)

notes: swearing, slut shaming and use of related words, big fat angsty argument, allusions to SA/undefined trauma, accusations of cheating (just accusations though!!)

w/c: 2.1k

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“stop giving me excuses! please, holy shit, just tell me the truth for once!” peter yelled, his voice strangled as he paced back and forth in his room. what had started as hushed whispers of annoyance had grown into a full-blown screaming match the minute may left for the grocery store.

“for once? what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” you scoffed. “like you haven’t been keeping secrets this entire relationship. you didn’t tell me you were spiderman, i found out by accident! you told may about me three months after we started dating! you’re the last person who should be talking about-”

peter threw his hands in the air in disbelief. “are you serious? you’re going to bring stuff up from months ago? i told you, i was trying to keep you safe! why do you keep changing the subject? if you have nothing to hide, just answer my question!”

your voice was shrill and piercing. “no, i’m not fucking cheating on you with brad davis! i can’t believe you’d even accuse me of something like that! you’re being paranoid!”

“what was i supposed to think? his clothes were all over your floor, goddamnit, and you’re always talking to him and being all touchy, you’re my partner, and-”

“what about you and mj? i never say anything about you guys even when you cuddle and hang out and whatever because i’m not irrational and- and possessive! you’re only mad at me because of your stupid double standards; what, am i not allowed to have guy friends because i’m not a dude? but it’s okay for you, ‘cause manwhores don’t exist, do they? it that it?”

peter’s face fell the minute you said ‘double standard.’ was it true? did you have a point? but still, why wouldn’t you have told him brad was coming over? why did you keep dodging the subject? all the evidence pointed to cheating!

“-and i’m so sick of it! everyone thinks i’m a slut because god forbid i have male friends, and now you too? do you see me that way too? like i’m some kind of- of…” you choked on your words, tears welling up in your eyes. you swiped them away, not caring about mascara streaks.

“stop putting words into my mouth!” peter bellowed, tugging at his hair. “you know i wouldn’t- i’d never call you that!”

“yeah? then why was that the first thing you accused me of? you don’t have to call me a slut to slut shame me, peter! i just-” you hiccuped, clutching your chest as you struggled to breathe properly. there was something in peter that wanted to run to you and take you in his arms, to brush the sweaty strands of hair from your forehead and kiss your cheeks until you felt better.

but the insecure side of him, the dark feelings that he’d been suppressing every time he was with you—you’re not good enough, you don’t compare, you’re a second choice—had taken over. his pride wouldn’t let him budge.

peter took your shuddering breaths as an opportunity to butt in. “i have never thought that about you; you’re the one who keeps bringing it up! you just keep labeling yourself a s-slut, so if that’s how you really see yourself, why don’t you just go fuck brad davis already? he was already half naked in your room, so it shouldn’t be too hard, huh?”

you let out another gasping sob, rubbing your snotty nose, disheveled. tugging at your shirt, which had suddenly become very warm and too tight, you snuck a peek at peter’s face. he was flushed and unforgiving, chest heaving in sync with your wobbly breaths.

you met peter’s eyes, praying that you could find some sort of apology or remorse or care, but you only found a cold barrier pushing you away. so that’s what you did—let yourself be pushed away.

digging the palms of your hands into your eyes, you turned to his door, the floor creaking quietly from the weight of your footsteps. the air in his room stilled for only a few seconds before peter’s voice cut through the silence again.

“what are you doing?” his voice was thick.

“leaving. i don’t want- i’m not doing this,” you croaked, freezing in place but refusing to turn and look at him.

“what do you mean, you’re not doing this? you can’t just-” you heard peter’s thumping footsteps behind you and you jumped into motion again, reaching for the door with the intention of slamming it in his face. 

peter growled. “don’t you dare walk away from me!” he lunged forward with superhuman speed, grabbing your wrist before you could even touch the doorknob. you shrieked, breath catching in your throat as your blood chilled. whatever peter was saying didn’t matter because you couldn’t hear it. everything had gone all muffled and you couldn’t see straight—why couldn’t you see? you brought your fingers up to your eyes.

oh. you’d begun crying. really crying, this time. you felt pathetic, standing between the door and peter’s chest, trapped by just one of peter’s hands. it was at times like these where the reality of your situation set in. you were dating spiderman, and when he said he’d wanted to protect you, you never thought that would include protecting you from him. because right now? right now, you were scared.

“please,” you pleaded, mustering up the last of your strength. “please, i’m sorry. please, i didn’t mean it. i’m sorry peter, please, i don’t want it, i’m sorry, please don’t-” you sniveled, tugging gently to free your wrist from his grasp. at the sound of your broken cries, peter let go of you immediately like he’d burned himself and stumbled backward, nearly tripping over a pair of old sneakers lying on the floor.

“i’m sorry, oh my god, i’m so sorry,” peter echoed, eyes wide in horror. “i didn’t mean to- shit, sweetheart, please look at me,” he begged, his hands floating in the air with uncertainty.

you whimpered and as peter slowly took in your figure—arms crossed tightly against your chest, fisting the neckline of your shirt with trembling fingers—he crumbled. “i’m sorry peter,” you whispered, eyes shut and head hanging low. “i didn’t mean it.”

“don’t be sorry, um,” peter looked around the room desperately for anything that could help. the two of you never fought. peter knew how much you hated fighting, especially with him. late one night, you’d confessed to him that he was the person you trusted most and that he made you feel safe. you had kissed his nose and teased him about being spiderman.

peter felt nauseated. how had he gone from being your protector to another projection of the people who’d hurt you—the people he promised he’d protect you from?

“hey, hey, look at me. can you look at me, baby?” he crouched, moving slowly as to not startle you, and held his hands up innocently. “i’m not- i’m not going to hurt you. you’re at my- may’s house, okay?” peter cringed when he had to stop himself from saying his own name. it disgusted him, the way he’d scared you so much that just hearing his name could potentially upset you.

“it’s s-safe here. she’s coming back with groceries, d’you remember?” he looked up at you from his perch on the ground, hoping to catch sight of your face and gauge how you were feeling. your hands were covering your mouth and you were breathing unevenly, each exhale coming out more like a heavy sigh. 

peter watched you timidly, saying nothing. you moved between grabbing the fabric of your shirt to rubbing your nose to slamming the heels of your hands on your forehead before you could get your breaths under control. once you established a steady pattern, you looked up at peter wordlessly.

you just blinked at him. his mind couldn’t help but compare you to a very dejected-looking frog. it was a very poor-timed thought.

“hey,” peter whispered. “are you okay- wait, that’s stupid. no, i’m sorry. d’you, uh, wanna sit down?” peter fell into a seated position where he had been crouching, tapping the floor in front of him. you followed suit, maintaining a couple of feet between the two of you.

“i’m so sorry,” peter sniffled. “i never meant to scare you. i would never hurt you. never. that’s- i would do anything to make sure nothing bad happened to you. and i’m so sorry that i was the one who was the bad… happening.” he pinched the bridge of his nose, too ashamed to meet your eye when you finally looked at him.

“everything about brad was- god, i’m so stupid, aren’t i?” he chuckled bitterly, only to choke on some snot and start coughing. you snorted, unable to contain your amusement.

“it’s okay, pete. i was just being- you didn’t do anything wrong. i was just making things worse for us and you’re right, i shouldn’t have let brad-”

“no, please don’t say that.” peter looked at you pleadingly. “no, you were being a good friend to brad. you’re the kindest person i know, and i was lashing out to you because i was so- so insecure. you’re thoughtful and caring and incredible so i wouldn’t be surprised if brad liked you too, and y’know, he’s brad davis. and you deserve everything, and i let my own doubts get to me and i was so scared to lose you, love. i don’t know what i’d do if i lost you because there’s nobody like you and i don’t even know if i deserve you, but i was so scared that you’d find someone else better and that i’d lose you so it was really my fault, and-”

you cut peter off by shuffling closer and wrapping your arms around his neck, to which he reciprocated with a tight hug. “i don’t want anybody or anything except you,” you whispered into his shoulder, tears slowly fading from your cheeks. 

“i would never hurt you,” peter murmured, nestling his chin further into the crook of your neck. he blinked back burning tears as he kept his eyes level, staring at the wood of his door directly across from him.

“i know,” you sniffed, running your hand through his curls lovingly. “i was just- i went on a tangent and it was right at the front of my mind so i just reacted but peter, i trust you with my life. i trust you and i love you.”

“i love you too.” peter pulled away from your body so he could examine your face. he brought his thumb below your eye to clean the remaining dampness and dab away any streaks of makeup. his heart ached as he took in the damage and pain he’d inflicted.

“i’m sorry for yelling at you,” peter whispered, smiling sadly.

you pressed your forehead to his. “i’m sorry for not being more transparent.” your breath tickled peter’s face. “can i kiss you?”

he hummed in affirmation. the kiss was salty, short, and a wordless message: i’m sorry. peter’s lips were a little chapped and yours were wet, and in all fairness, it probably wasn’t a very good kiss, but it was good enough for you.

“i don’t want to think about this anymore,” you confessed shyly. “not- not the fight. i just don’t want to think about… the other part.” peter pursed his lips, swallowing hard. the miscommunication could be discussed later. but you were hurting, and regardless of whether he’d been the cause, he’d never let you be in pain.

“are you okay if i touch you? where would you feel most comfortable?” peter slid his hand under your jawline to tip your head up and face him. you smiled uncertainly at him.

“yeah, you can touch me,” you murmured. “please, stay with me. ‘n, um, can we sit on the bed?” 

peter nodded, scooping you up and carrying you sideways in his arms until he set you down on top of his comforter with such softness that you didn’t so much as bounce. he crawled beside you, extending an arm. you snuggled yourself into his open embrace, and peter curled his arm around your timid frame and pulled you to his chest, resting his chin on the crown of your head.

he breathed in sharply as he felt you nuzzle yourself even closer to his body. how you could trust him so fully, how you could love him—even after he’d exploded at you—he would never understand. perhaps it was because you were a better person than he was.

his enhanced senses allowed him to pick up the slowing of your breath and the settling of your heartbeat into a steadily pumping metronome that beat against his own chest. kissing your hair, he let himself close his eyes, slipping into the most vulnerable state that one could be in—an unconscious sleep—with the love of his life.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

peter parker masterlist | main masterlist

taglist: (comment to be added)

@bambamwolf87 @yourallihave @im-a-slut-for-fluff

#peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x gn!reader #peter parker x reader angst #peter parker angst #peter parker x you angst #tom holland x reader #tom hollan spiderman #tom holland peter parker #spiderman x you angst #marvel reader insert #peter parker imagine

[jaozendry]

NEW YEAR SPECIAL: A New Beginning

Pairing: Tom!Peter Parker x GN!Reader

Warnings: slight mentions of suicide & self-harm

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

Summary: After a very hard year, Peter comforts you due to your anxiety: you're afraid 2023 will somehow be worse than 2022.

Author's note: happy new year!! stay strong ppl <33 sorry its a short one today im tiredddd

______________________________________________________________

"You okay?" Peter asks you, opening the door to your room. "I didn't see you at the party." You remove your headphones and wipe away the tears dripping down your face while looking away. He notices your current emotional state and sits down on your bed, caressing your hip. "What is it?" he asks with sincerity in his eyes. "I- uh, I don't know. It doesn't matter anyway." you reply, smiling faintly to reassure him.

He clearly knows that's a lie. Peter knows 2022 has been a hard year for you, both mentally and physically. You've been bleeding out all year, both hypothetically and literally.

He caresses your arm: "I'm proud you made it through this year, I really am." he tells you, slightly tearing up. "It's almost over. Next year will be a new beginning for you, trust me." You start to tear up even more. "But... what if nothing changes? What if I'm still in that mindset? What if I attempt suic-" As you start to freak out and lose control of your emotions, Peter gently puts his hand on your mouth. "Don't say that, please." he tells you, also tearing up and removing his hand from your mouth. "I'm here for you. We'll make it through this year, together." he explains, earning a little smile from you.

"There's that beautiful smile I've been looking for." he says jokingly. "Feeling better now?" he asks, caressing your face. "Yeah. Thanks. I guess I just needed to hear that you'll be there for me. Especially after this year." you reply, holding his hand while he nods in understanding. "We'll have a good year, right?" you ask, wiping your tears once more. "Oh, we will. Don't worry." he says while smiling.

"Come on, they're waiting for us." he says, standing up and reaching out his hand. "I don't think I'm looking too good after bawling my eyes out." you reply in a jokingly sad manner. "Y/N, you always look good. What did I say? We'll have a good year." he says, taking both of your hands. "That means a more positive mindset." he explains, playfully ticking your head while the both of you laugh. "We'll work on that. Okay?" he tells you while you stare into his beautiful eyes. "Fine." you giggle. "Only one drink."

The both of you finally stand up and leave the room. "What?" you giggle while he stops and simply stares at you. He goes for a kiss and you engage back. He breaks free and a few seconds of awkward silence occur. He finally breaks the silence, whispering into your ear:

"We'll have an amazing year, Y/N, trust me."

#peter #peter x reader #peter x male reader #peter x female reader #peter x gn!reader #peter parker #peter paker x reader #peter parker x male reader #peter parker x female reader #peter parker x gn!reader #spider man #spider man x reader #spider man x male reader #spider man x female reader #spider man x gn!reader #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x male reader #tom holland x female reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x gn!reader #marvel #marvel comics #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #spider man 3 #spider man nwh #spider man no way home #disney #disney+

[thewriterg]

♡︎𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐰𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐬♡︎

pairing(s): Tom Holland x Gn!reader, Tom Holland x acting!reader,

summary: You and your boyfriend Tom don’t get a lot of alone time when it comes to public outings especially when It comes to the press. But Tom will alway step the extra mile to make you happy

word count: 1.2k+

warning(s): Fluff, kisses, concerned Tom for like two seconds, pet names, Tom worshiping the ground you walk on, and language

A/n:—GIFs; @perccyjacksonn @cutetomholland — The wait is over… let the games begin!

“Are you sure you got everything love?” Tom questioned as he began to put on his seatbelt across his chest before looking over at your groggy state it was early hours of the morning and to confirm it 4:37am read on the touch screen radio

“I’m pretty sure” You mumbled and Tom couldn’t help but let a small smile slip onto his face re-caping the morning you both had

You’d barely open your eyes more than a squint and Tom had no problem helping you with morning routine such as putting one of his hoodies over your tank top that wouldn’t be much use to In the chilly morning or slipping your legs into your sweatpants. He was pretty sure the only thing you did by yourself that morning was using the bathroom and brushing your teeth

You’d barely open your eyes more than a squint and Tom had no problem helping you with morning routine such as putting one of his hoodies over your tank top that wouldn’t be much use to In the chilly morning or slipping your legs into your sweatpants. He was pretty sure the only thing you did by yourself that morning was using the bathroom and brushing your teeth

Tom didn’t hesitate to put a hand on your thigh rubbing his thumb back and forth while pulling out of your driveway and onto the inactive roads he wanted to spend as much time away from the public eye as he could with you before you both had to get back to work

Tom didn’t hesitate to put a hand on your thigh rubbing his thumb back and forth while pulling out of your driveway and onto the inactive roads he wanted to spend as much time away from the public eye as he could with you before you both had to get back to work

You and Tom both had many interviews to get to with your roles as Sierra Hardy ‘Black Cat’ and Peter Parker ‘Spider-Man’ and after New Years sometime early February you would begin your press tour along with the honor of getting your own movie as Black Cat. The news was concealed to a tea. The only people who knew were the producers and yourself along with Tom

The Brit couldn’t be anymore proud of you then he was you had deserved every portion of the exposure you were receiving and more to gain. All the late nights, early mornings, sweat, tears, and bruises because like himself you were stubborn and didn’t want a stunt devil unless you absolutely needed one and still then you wanted to at least test the theory of needing one

The first four months of your soon to be New Year would be booked to a tea paparazzi and just about every news station in the states would be on you both like leeches especially with the reveal of your movie being announced sometime in March

Tom would always step the extra mile for you you were deity in his eyes and he simply worshiped the ground you walked on and he never let you or anyone forget that either. Not that they would anyway the comments to come especially with all of the interviews were predictable as ever

‘I want someone to look at me the way Tom looks at Y/n’

‘They Just called me single in fifty different languages’

‘When is it my turn!?’

‘Dear universe, I seen what you can do for other people and-’

‘If I don’t have what they have I don’t want it’

If he were being honest he didn’t mind the comments they were nice to see even if they did get old after a while

Tom let a small smile grace it’s way on his face as the sun began to rise the clock read 5:52am he looked over at you as you began to stir you would be waking up soon and it was perfect timing since Tom had just took exit from the highway for a much needed break the small town wasn’t far another two hours at most

You awoke with a yawn blinking the sleep out of your eye beginning to stretch in your seat as Tom pulled into a Starbucks parking lot

“Well good morning duchess” Tom greeted while you produced a smile leaning halfway over the arm rest while the brunette happily closed to distance giving you peck before going at your lips one more time

“Well good morning to me” You smirked while Tom couldn’t help but laugh at your antics as he pulled into the drive through ordering you both breakfast and coffee yours very necessarily large might I add before parking in the semi empty parking lot

“Tommy you know I can’t force myself to eat this early” You frowned once you checked the brown paper bag to see two egg and cheese English muffins

“Well my love you will today, I let you slide with ‘accidentally’ forgetting dinner yesterday which was a one time thing might I add so I need you to eat. Even if it’s just a half please?” You sighed heavily at the look on your lovers face you couldn’t say no to the puppy eyes even if you tried

So while rolling your eyes you pulled back the paper wrapping taking a bite out of the lukewarm sandwich before turning to look at Tom with a sarcastic smile

“Are you Happy?”

“Very.”

You couldn’t stop the smile that began to grace your lips you were with the love of your life surrounded by love and holiday spirit you couldn’t ask for much more in the moment being

💌💌💌💌

You and Toms fingers locked with in each other as the remains of snow that began to melt crunched under your matching boots the view of all different kind of pine trees around you some were small and tall bright and dull it was just a sight to see a d feeling to experience with someone you love

“I feel like a kid in a candy store” You stated smiling so big your cheeks started to hurt while Tom just stared at you you with pure admiration in his eyes

“Well darling you shouldn’t dangle candy in children’s faces let’s pick one out” The brunette had smiled back at you with such an excitement in his tone that it added fuel to your own burning fire

So there you both were in matching flannels and cowboy boots picking out your first real Christmas tree together away from the paparazzi and your busy lives you felt like a normal couple doing what normal couples do without being interrupted with a thousand flashing lights in your face

You and Tom were giggling and goofing off like school girls before you finally found it your perfect tree it wasn’t too unnecessarily big and it was anything but small it was perfect

“I want you to know that your killing every bug that crawls out that tree lovely” You smirked while the brunette just chuckled shaking his head as one of the farmers helped you load the tree on top of your car

��That is one along many more sacrifices im willing to make for you duchess” Tom responded before leaning into your lips as they smashed together you both smiled into the kiss like grinning idiots

Tom couldn’t be more grateful than to share the holiday season with You by his side as long as he had you he could bare just about anything to come his way

You were his duchess after all.

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x yn #tom holland x gender neutral reader #the avengers #avengers x reader #avengers x you #gn!reader #fluff #romance #i love you #thewriterg

[multimuseficreblogs]

❅ pedro pascal & oscar isaac characters ↳ including jonathan levy, steven grant, marc spector, abel morales, jake lockely, miguel o'hara, nathan bateman, dave york, dieter bravo, din djarin, dio morrissey, ezra, frankie morales, jack daniels, javi gutierrez, javier pena, joel miller, marcus moreno, marcus pike, maxwell lord, max phillips, oberyn martell, pero tovar, & tim rockford

❅ marvel ↳ including bucky parnes, loki, natasha romanoff, peter parker, stephen strange, steve rogers, wanda maximoff, kate bishop, frank castle & matt murdock

❅ misc. fandoms ↳ including american horror story, criminal minds, jurassic park/world, outer banks, pirates of the caribbean, teen wolf

#tom holland x gn!reader #gn!reader #male!reader #natasha romanoff x male!reader #natasha romanoff x gn!reader #wanda maximoff x male!reader #wanda maximoff x gn!reader #jack sparrow x gn!reader #jack sparrow x male!reader #peter parker x gn!reader #peter parker x male!reader #peter b. parker #peter b. parker x gn!reader #peter b. parker male!reader #peter parker #tom holland #nathan drake x male!reader #nathan drake x gn!reader #ahs x gn!reader #ahs x male!reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x gn!reader #pedro pascal x male!reader #oscar isaac #javier pena x gn!reader #javier pena x male!reader

[angelrollseyes]

I'm in a soft mood lately lol just want to see some characters happy

So maybe a little thing with Peter Parker? Peter promised to go to reader's house for a dinner date but, of course, he's very very late. Finally, he gets there completely ready for a big fight but Reader is nothing but understanding and is happily reheating everything cause they already expected that to happened, he tries to apologize but Reader is simply not mad or disappointed at all, they choose to date a superhero being ready for what that relationship would be like

Dinner Date

Pairing: Peter Parker x gn!reader

Warnings: none I guess other than fluff

A/N: I'm so sorry this took so long. I got busy with classes and just finally got time

~~~

Shit, I'm a terrible boyfriend was all that was going through Peter Parker's head as he swung from building to building. He had promised Y/N for a dinner date but he was late. Very very late and he knew that this could be the reason they could have a huge fight tonight. He let out a sigh of relief when he spotted their building and quickly landed on their fire escape, noticing the window open. He opened the window and stepped inside ready for a fight, gaining the attention of Y/N who was sitting on the couch watching TV.

"Oh hey. You're back", Y/N said, a smile on their face.

"I'm so sorry I got late, sweetheart. I was patrolling and then there was this old lady who needed help getting to her house. I completely lost track of time", Peter pulled off his mask and rambled causing a smile of adoration to spread across Y/N's face as they walked towards the kitchen to reheat the food they had made for their dinner date.

"It's okay, Peter. I understand", Y/N said, causing Peter to shake his head.

"It's not okay. I made a promise and I broke it", Peter mumbled.

"No", Y/N chuckled causing a confused look to cross across Peter's face, "You didn't break your promise. We can still have our dinner date".

"But I'm late and you should be angry. Why are you not angry with me?", Peter asked, looking like a kicked puppy.

"Do you want me to be angry?", Y/N asked, an eyebrow raised in amusement.

"No no no", Peter desperately shook his head.

"I'm not angry because I understand. I understand that you may be late sometimes or you might forget things. You have a lot on your plate, thanks to being the friendly neighborhood spiderman. And let's not forget, I chose to date a superhero so I know I have to be ready for what comes along with it", Y/N explained, placing a hand on Peter's cheek making him close his eyes in content.

"You're literally the best. I don't deserve you", Peter said, a lovesick look on his face.

"You deserve the world", Y/N stated, before leaning forwards and kissing Peter, their lips moving in perfect sync as if they were made for each other.

#peter parker fanfiction #peter parker #spiderman fanfiction #peter parker x reader #peter parker x gender neutral reader #peter parker x gn!reader #spiderman x reader #spiderman homecoming #spiderman nwh #spiderman far from home #imagines #fluff #peter parker fluff #tom holland

[justsomerandomfanfic]

I wonder may I have 🥨

Yaya! Here are some of my recent favs!!

Clark Kent by @alienguts

Clark Kent by @alienguts

Klarion Bleak by @dccomicsimagines

Jason Todd by @dccomicsimagines

Clark Kent by @dccomicsimagines

Clark Kent by @dccomicsimagines

Tom Holland by @waitimcomingtoo

Tom Holland by @waitimcomingtoo

Tom Holland by @waitimcomingtoo

Tom Holland by @waitimcomingtoo

Eddie Brock/Venom by @quin-ns

Alex Law by @happytales

Pedro Pascal by @talaok

And some by me:

Din Djarin by me

Faramir by me

Steve Rogers by me

Bucky Barnes by me

Erik Destler by me

Shaggy Rogers by me

I hope these bring you joy :)

#justsomerandomfanfic birthday celebration #justsomerandomfanfic birthday bash #justsomerandomfanfic #birthday #fics #fics recs #fanfic recs #fanfiction recs #pedro pascal #alex law #eddie and venom #eddie brock #tom holland #clark kent #jason todd #klarion bleak #x reader #x gn reader #x fem!reader #x female reader #x you #x y/n #support these amazing writers! #cute #fluff #slight angst #mcu #dc #shaggy rogers #steve rogers

[dreaminginpastels]

okay, does anyone have any tom holland peter parker requests?

I’m super in the mood to try my hand at writing for him, send ‘em in if you do!

(pre no way home only please!!)

- daniella 🤍

🕸❤️🕷

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x gn!reader #peter parker x fem!reader #peter parker x male!reader #tom holland peter parker #marvel x reader #avengers x reader #requests open #PRE NO WAY HOME PLEASE!!

[clarks-letterman]

desirable | doctor!peter parker x gn!reader

a/n — the pictures are so mismatched but i don't have a gif and they all work separately for the fic so yeah- mishmosh pishposh motherf*ckers <3 (this is a jokey but veryyy smutty fic i wrote to get out of writers block)

summary — Infatuated by the doctor treating you, you return with feigned sickness.

words — 2.9k

warnings — SMUT! 18+, throat-fucking, blowjobs, sexy peter parker

~~~

The office was stuffy, or maybe it was your throat swelling, with a scratch that only stuck out when you tried to speak. You scheduled an appointment within an older practice run by renowned Doctor Bruce Banner, who you had little confidence in since he could hardly understand things about his own body. Not that you would discredit someone of his intelligence, but he struggled to control his body at levels of extreme emotion, and dealing with any sickness is never something calm to bear through. He prevailed on your previous visits; that was the only reason you remained slumped against the wall of the waiting room chairs, fighting congestion and an endlessly parched thirst.

After a little while, a nurse in lime green scrubs called your name, prompting you to stand, and followed her into one of the few patient rooms once she checked your height, weight, blood pressure, and temperature. On your first visit, you were surprised to learn about the scarcity of rooms, only to realize that their sizes were far more massive than what would be required for a human-sized head specialist. The bed you sat on, paper crinkling on even the most trivial shift of your body, took up only a fraction of the room it occupied. The other side of the room had a desk and a chair that faced the wall, both oversized to fit Banner's frame but made the computer, keyboard, and mouse sitting atop it look like little playthings. To the left of the bed were a sink, a few hanging otoscopes to check your ears, and some other things you didn't recognize. To your right was the door the nurse walked out of, and no less than five minutes passed before a doctor with a deeper shade of green scrubs entered.

It was a pleasant surprise to learn that your doctor would not be the Hulk himself but a younger male in hulk-green scrubs who had only recently started working for Doctor Banner. Banner was nice but not always careful, especially with his large, discolored fingers. You were happy that he wouldn't be the one to lay a hand on your throat since he could probably crush your larynx with the jerk of a sneeze. Your new doctor didn't seem as friendly as the big guy, though, seized in a look of shock—possibly embarrassment—as he laid eyes on you, then fumbled with his clipboard. It almost fell to the ground but miraculously clung to the tips of his fingers, and he caught the board. He kept his head low and buried, busying himself with your information, hushedly repeating it aloud.

The doctor's face was pale aside from the flush of ignominy, possibly from the same bug you contracted somewhere around New York, though you figured he happened to not get enough sun. Judging by how he carried himself and the awkward chipperness in his voice, you suspected the latter. Yet he filled out his scrubs rather nicely, tautly stretching over his chest and struggling to hide his bulk for someone potentially sun-appalled. It was like he chose a size down from his typical day apparel to tempt his patients, to keep them engaged with whatever boring medical jargon he was most likely to spew out after giving them a diagnosis. You had to admit, it worked.

His short, chocolate curls looked like they had been on the receiving end of many pushbacks with a shaky hand as if he was excessively nervous. He had a simple complexion, easy on the eyes with warm brown hues that challenged the depth of rich soil. His nametag coruscated in the light; black, blocky lettering printed across the laminate—Dr.Parker.

Silence loomed over the room, only backing away when you let out a few sputtered hacks from the back of your throat. A simple coughing fit to others, but it felt like a raging war broke out for the millionth time today on your sore inner muscles. That's when he looked up.

"Sorry I didn't introduce myself. Doctor Parker, and you must be . . ." he hesitated momentarily, scanning the clipboard again—was he that forgetful? His index finger followed the pages of your file before halting, and he spoke your name without his eyes leaving the inky letters. The way it rolled off his tongue felt different than how other people said it, like the set of his mouth was meant to twist and twitch with every syllable. "And a sore throat today, huh? That's gotta hurt."

"Kind of," you said, being courteous about how it hurt to swallow and that it felt like someone was constantly ramming something stiff and sharp down your throat each time you tried to eat the softest foods on the shelf. Doctor Parker moved over to the chair, taking a seat in it. You watched how the backing of the chair reached halfway up to the back of his head when he finally got comfortable in the seat, looking more like an excessively sized dog bed, significantly passing his spread legs. He took ahold of the mouse that filled out his hand—appearing to be more than a handful—and clicked open a few programs until he entered an alterable document. It was complete with information about your previous visits.

"What symptoms have you been dealing with?" he asked, hands resting on the keys underneath the monitor, his beautiful face illuminated by the blank, white screen. You told him about the troubles this illness brought but kept it brief to save your throat the pain later. After you relayed everything to him, his intent ears never missing a slurred or misspoken word, he moved on to diagnosing you.

He got out of the comically-sized chair and drew near. Cold hands met your warmed, overheated skin. "Definitely swollen," he muttered. Only a few words slipped from his mouth since he entered the room, and you hadn't even learned his first name, yet you happily listened and waited for more of his spoken thoughts. If your throat was back to normal, how he held it would have been much more evocative. Was he aware of the effect he had on his patients?

At first, his hands were gentle, like a deer carefully watching its step on an uneven meadow, but they had a growing bite as he started to press into your swollen lymph nodes. The force elicited a painful noise past your lips and a harsh "Ow."

His hands backed away immediately, retreating safely to his sides, and that's when he looked up to your face. You were sure it flushed at his worried glance and not from the sickness.

"Sorry, it's my first day on the job," he half-heartedly apologized.

"Really?" you asked skeptically. Maybe that was why you never saw Doctor Parker before now; he was new.

"No."

"Nervous?" your throat rasped.

His cracked lips stretched, hiding any anxiety he took out on them and forming a brief smile, "Yeah, uh, something like that."

The doctor refrained from putting his hands on you for the rest of the visit, asking you how the infection made you feel and what you noticed during the past few days of dealing with it. He concluded it to be tonsilitis and prescribed a healthy dose of antibiotics that would hopefully kill the infection thriving in your throat. They did their job and had you feeling better within a few days. 

From the view of your bathroom mirror, opaque-white lights cast visibility over your throat. The pain was gone, but the handsome doctor's touch never left, his pale hands turning a true translucent as you felt the ghost of them linger. You needed to go back for the resolution, but finding a reason to return would be difficult.

. . .

"Back again so soon? Guess you missed me," Doctor Parker remarked as he came through the door, realizing that you sat on the table in the same position as last time. "Still sick?"

You nodded, rebuffing words out of fear that the first one to slip out would sound unscratched by your throat, harmonious and smooth. 

"Did it get worse?" You nodded again. "Okay, huh, open up for me? Sorry, please." The doctor heard how it sounded out loud and took the opportunity to make banter with himself where you couldn't. His hand rose and followed your jaw, his thumb glossing over your chin as the rest nearly missed his touch from the last time. With your mouth open, the tip of his flashlight clicked, and out came the light pouring into the darkness. "You sure the medication didn't work? Still feels scratchy?"

You nodded—again. His hands slid down, two fingers on either side of your throat, feeling around for swelling and unwanted masses. Unfortunately, his touch didn't last long, as he pulled away with a look of certainty.

"I've seen enough. I'll call in for a prescription of antibiotics to kill that lie you're committed to."

Your voice slipped, mistakenly asking in a less husky tone, "What do you mean?"

He pushed the chair away from the desk, the tip of his toe sweeping the ground to swivel him around. "I don't want to catch a case of lying, but I don't think I could because you're not sick."

You let your voice return to normal, no longer feigning malady, "How could you tell?"

He stood, leaning against the tall desk. He folded his arms over his scrubs and scrunched the forest green cotton and rayon, "Your throat's gone down, and, obviously, I prescribed the right thing. Top of my class and all. Why did you do it?"

You trapped yourself in here, and there was nothing else to say but the truth, "I . . . think you're hot?"

"Wow, that's a new one—and a relief. Usually, the patients I see more than once have made-up names and appendages I can't even describe—you'd have to be there! And they always try to . . .kill me."

"What?"

"Hey, don't spin this around on me. I'm the one asking questions, here," he mirrored, uncomfortably shifting away from the desk. "How could you make it up to me?"

The question lingered like the newly raised hand to his chin to signify the thoughts running through his head. Your head started to conjure ideas of what exactly he would do. Doctor Parker didn't seem mad when he learned about the reason behind this contrived visit, but maybe it was how he handled things. He kept calm and probably already called security or would ask you to leave, from what you could assume. 

After a few moments of deliberation, he dropped his arms by his sides, "I think the best thing to do, is to give you a taste of your own medicine, yeah?"

With his elbows bent, his hands dug up the hem of his shirt and to the waistband stretching over his flat stomach. The hulk-green elastic slid up to the thenars of his hands with nowhere to go but down, thanks to the pressure he applied, the band easily giving way to reveal his partly defined Adonis belt. It was prominent, but the lines looked as if they were lightly sketched on what was otherwise a perfect sculpture.

"What are you doing?" you had to ask as if it wasn't obvious. His thumbs showed through the outline of his pants and a thicker, more pronounced, and lengthier silhouette just further down. You knew what he wanted; he only had to say it.

"Doing what you want, playing doctor and patient. Today's checkup involves a laryngoscopy—throat examination, if that was too confusing," he spoke as if he was in control but still had the consideration that his soft-leaning look won you over with on your first visit. This time, you saw his hardened and more defined side as he finally let his pants drop to his knees. No underwear. He was confident in a way where other people wouldn't know unless they were close to him. 

His cock stood tall, and his balls hung low with enough to push the limits of whatever it entered and was sure to create enough of a smack with each passionate hip-rock. Lengthy enough to reach all the right places, but not enough to go where it didn't belong. A couple of tugs with his right hand later proved the second half of that untrue as he grew even more excited.

"You're gonna have to lay back," he waded near you, half-pulled-down pants restricting his steps so far. With a single hand, he maneuvered you with impossible strength, only ceasing his hold when you were on your back, head titled over the foot of the examination bed. The table paper's end crinkled in your ears.

The fluorescent tubes casting light from above were shadowed by his figure stepping into the frame of your flipped world view. His smooth and defined thighs blocked your peripherals. In only seconds, the dry head of his cock was at your gated lips. He hastily spoke, teasing, "Say, ahh. I'll make it nice and sore, just like you need."

Your lips brushed it as they parted, "Aren't you supposed to make me feel better?"

"This is for me since you wasted my time. Don't worry, it'll only hurt a little," he left you with that, suddenly entering your mouth, lips conforming to the girth. 

Your tongue felt the topside of his cock; the small ridge where the wide tip ended, and the length and all of its scattered veins began. It was tasteless, bland, and made even more uninteresting since the doctor took his sweet time. The only thing that saved it and provided excitement were the soft noises he made. He had been talkative up until now, but you still knew how he felt. His moans were enough to discern it. He spewed out hushed 'ohs' and pants, which seemed odd as he was less than halfway in your mouth. That was enough to tell he enjoyed it so far, but you wondered about the distance that far away could be. When he didn't have to guide himself into you anymore, the hand holding his hefty length moved to grip the table—tightly. You could have sworn you heard the metal creaking with the pressure.

His cock snaked forward, earning a sharp gluck once he reached your throat. Then, you convulsed, body shaking at the unnatural mass invading your mouth, lips sputtering around him. He sneered in delight, his own set of lips breaking the set of his face to form a smile. His slow pace stopped when a light tracing of hair grazed your chin, balls low enough to brush your nose. Your throat jutted, his head showing from the outside as a small peak in the middle, made more apparent by how your head was titled back.

Slowly, it began to sink and rise as he started to rock his hips. He started to pick up a pace, burying himself until there was nothing left to hide and reeling it back moments later to rest just short of your lips. Every now and then, he would make you swallow his cock for longer than a few seconds, causing welled-up spit to pour from your mouth and onto him and your face. At a certain point, he broke his rhythm, withdrawing all of himself from your wet encasement. Slicked in spit, his gorgeous length glistened in the fluorescent white.

"Feel good?" You could hardly stutter it out, jaw aching at the corners.

"Yeah, it feels great. Nothing wrong with it so far, but I'd like to consider a re-evaluation."

Familiarity washed over you, the same feeling as moments before returning with more wants. More needs. To your surprise, the hand on the examination table keeping his thrusts steady now rested around your throat. The doctor yearned to feel himself piercing you, putting his breath-taking looks into a literal sense. And he did; your throat unwillingly bulged with his deeply buried cock. An unregulated series of appearing and disappearing beneath his palm and wet noises coming from your spit-filled cavern.

After a few more globs of spit well up and spill from your mouth—making all the noises that were expected along with it—the doctor needily stated that he was "going to come." No less than a second later, warm white poured down your throat with no other option except to be swallowed.

The doctor pulled away, a mixture of release and slobber slicking his cock. He waded to the sink, reaching for a few paper towels from the dispenser to wipe himself off.

You sat up, wiping a hand over your mouth and nose to clear off some of his sticky come and your spit, "What about me?"

"What about you?" He laughed at the end of his return. Once he had fixed himself up to act as if the past twenty minutes had never happened, he went to the computer and took a seat on the oversized chair, like last time. 

As he tapped away at the keyboard, he informed you about the changes to your medical file, "I'll put myself as your Primary Care Physician from now on, but Doctor Banner might want to see you soon. I think he'll have a new stress reliever."

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x gender neutral!reader #peter parker x gn!reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x gender neutral reader #peter parker x gn reader #peter parker x male reader #peter parker x male!reader #peter parker x m!reader #peter parker x fem!reader #spiderman x reader #spiderman x gender neutral reader #spiderman x gn!reader #marvel x reader #avengers x male reader #avengers x reader #marvel #peter parker #spiderman #tom holland #marvel fanfiction #tom!spiderman #tom!peter parker #tom holland x reader #tom holland spiderman #tom holland smut #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x male reader #tom holland x male!reader #tom holland x y/n

[yanasyin]

What We Know (And What They Don't)

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ Synopsis: After getting fired from your job, all you wanted was to sulk in silence on the rooftops of Brooklyn. Too bad you caught the neighborhood web-slinger's eye. 1.1k words ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ Warnings: Bad head-space description, abusive boss, brief thought of jumping off a building (blink and you'll miss it), not much though I don't think.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ Contents: Gn!reader x Spiderman (any), fluff, SFW. A/n at the end.

"Out! And this time stay out you useless bxtch!" The greasy brown, stained backdoor of Carlito's diner slammed shut. A harsh sigh escaped your throat. Today was just one of those days. You woke up late, got yelled at by your boss, and forgot half your tables' orders. You really hadn't meant to, it's just, everything was so loud. Spoons and forks clinking on chipped plates, raucous laughter, mindless chatter, and that damned child that wouldn't stop crying. This close to Christmas, the tables were constantly filled and the diner was constantly under-staffed.

Your boss improvised. With no over-time pay, most staff at the diner had to work at least 2 jobs to keep up with influx of customers this time of year. Truly a Christmas miracle everybody hadn't left yet. Honestly, it would've been a great move on your part to quit way before this, but you didn't have any options aside from this place, it got the bills paid and you off the streets.

Really, the customer that got you fired was already getting on your nerves from the beginning of your shift. You only lost it when he decided taking a photo up your shorts while you bent down to grab your dropped notebook was a good idea. he would've gotten away with it too had his flash not been on. Whirling around, you backhanded him so hard his dentures flew out. Unfortunately, this was the last straw for your boss, the customer was given a free meal, while you got your last paycheck.

There was no point getting mad now, what would it accomplish? Jobless, freezing, and alone, it was in your best interest to get out of the alley you were in asap. Your work uniform was your boss's taste in women, so in short, sexy, tight, and revealing. Your red shorts barely covered the beginning of your thighs, and the black fishnets underneath were basically decoration, thankfully you had a spare black tee at least. You didn't bring more than a hoodie today, since in the morning, before you left for work, the sun was shining and it was pleasantly warm.

Cursing every decision that had brought you to this point, you figured you might as well go to a scenic spot if you were going to sulk. Ducking out of the alleyway, you hastily made your way to your apartments fire escape a few blocks down. Gripping the icy rails, you silently climbed until your head was level with the top and hauled yourself over.

You stepped over until you were at the edge of the railing. From here, you could see the ant-sized pedestrians living going about their day. It kind of put your life into perspective, you were just another ant, lost in the throngs of people... Your life was kind of meaningless. Almost without thinking, your feet pushed closer to the edge. From this height, you wouldn't just be getting a few broken bones, you'd be dead if you jumped. You were a hairs breadth away from the edge, and the slight swaying sensation people got when they were really high up was getting to you. What if I... Before you could finish that thought, a near-silent whoosh sounded behind you.

Whirling around you were met with the Brooklyn's most famous vigilante. He looked almost casual leaning against the rooftop door, but there was a slight tension in his stance, as if he was waiting for you to do something.

"A little high up to be contemplating life don't you think?" He murmured with a teasing lilt to his voice. You could feel your neck getting warm as you realized what he thought you were going to do, and rushed out an explanation.

"I wasn't! I just had a sh!tty day is all. The view here at night is beautiful so I thought I'd cheer myself up a bit" He titled his head at your response, taking a moment to consider your words before sauntering over and plopping down on the edge of the building.

"Care to join me? There's plenty of room." You hesitated, but plopped down anyway, after all who'd turn down the chance to sulk next to Spider-man? Not you that's for sure.

Spidey's head tilted minutely in your direction, before asking lightly "You know, I've been told I'm a great listener." You blinked in surprise... That was unexpected, but not unwelcome. Before you knew it you were spilling the day's events with fervor, finding comfort in his low hums and sympathetic ah's.

"-nd he really should've retired 10 years ago, but he's still up and kicking! And now I have to find another damn job just so I'm not out on the streets." Spidey had been staring at you silently for the past few minutes now, and as you paused to catch your breath he spoke.

"Can I kiss you?" You reeled back in shock, he seemed a bit surprised at his own boldness too if the slight widening of the eyes on his mask was any indication, he didn't back down though and hurried to elaborate.

"You looked a little lonely, and I won't say you don't smoking in your current outfit, but I mostly wanted to cheer you up." While he spoke he had started to slowly lean towards you, but stopping a few inches from your face, waiting for your permission. A slow nod was all he need before he was tugging the mask up over his nose, revealing soft lips, before his mouth pressed to yours sweetly.

You had expected a kiss with Spider-man to be fierce and passionate, considering he was someone constantly defying rules and swinging free in the city, this kiss was passionate but it was soft. He kissed you like a lover would, lightly tilting your chin towards him with the tips of his fingers, before using one hand to hold the back of your head, and the other to cup your face.

You could have kept kissing him for ages if the burning need for oxygen didn't take over. You pulled away breathless and gasping, before taking a look at his slightly heaving chest, diving back for seconds.

After the both of you were flushed and drunk on the others lips, Spider-man, tugged his mask back down and you had the feeling he was grinning at you.

"Somebody seems to be in better spirits." He goaded. You huffed a laugh before smiling. You turned to the side to compose yourself, before turning back and seeing empty space next to the space he had previously filled.

Confused you looked up and down the building, but didn't catch sight of him. Disappointment pooled in your chest, but just before you left for the fire escape, you noticed a small sticky note with a hastily scribbled number on it, and a call me! underneath in chicken scratch. You would have ignored it if not for the tiny spider drawn like a certain somebody's suit on the back. Maybe it wasn't that bad of a day after all.

A/n: I lost the ask :( but this is for the anon who requested a spiderverse fic! it's mostly me yapping but I hope you enjoy <33

#✦•☆ ʏᴀɴᴀ'ꜱ ʏᴇᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ ☆•✦ #spiderman #across the spiderverse #into the spider verse #miguel spiderverse #spiderman x reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #gn reader #x reader #reader insert #gender neutral reader #x you #tom holland x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #peter b parker x reader #peter b parker x you #andrew garfield x reader #tasm #tobey maguire x reader #amalgamation of the all them really #spiderman x you #spiderman x y/n #spiderman atsv #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman into the spiderverse #peter parker #spidey #miles morales x reader #the amazing spider man

[cinnamostar]

four dates to fall in love

part one. part two. part three. part four (here). part five (coming soon).

pairing : hyunjin x gn!reader

summary : after a two year long unspoken hatred, hyunjin and you are forced to be costars in a romantic series, but when it comes to filming any of the romance scenes, you both utterly fail and are unable to get through your lines. the director threatens to take your roles away if you two aren't able to get past this within the next week, which spawns the genius idea from both your managers: can you learn to (fake) fall in love in seven dates and save your careers?

wc : 2.7k

cw : actor!au, enemies to lovers ?!, slowburn , not proofread, blood/knife ments (no injury, theyre just cooking lol), emotional vulnerability

a/n : welcome to part four. the slow burn is absolutely slowburning. things are happening. i dont have much to say other than it being hard for me to write, but pls let me know what you think!!!!!! likes and reblogs appreciated!

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“It went well?” Chan exclaimed in shock over your speakerphone.

You hum in agreement, confusion in the forefront of your mind, “Surprisingly, it went better than I could have ever imagined,” a sigh escapes you, “I don’t know, it’s weird.”

“Well, the fact he even apologized caught me off guard in the first place.”

You laugh lightly, “Oh, trust me, I still am having a hard time believing it. It’s been so long of him being an asshole to me, so seeing him like this was… very different. A little scary, if I’m being honest.”

“Yet it still went well even though it was kinda weird?”

“I mean, it was really awkward at the start which was annoying, but I can’t blame him. He genuinely did look like he felt bad, so it probably was hard to be in his position,” you think aloud, “But it was getting too much and he was putting a damper on the mood, so I tried to make him more comfortable, which worked. Then we started talking, and I don’t really know how to say it, but it felt… really nice? It made me realize that maybe I did miss our friendship.”

“Well, you guys did get along really well before everything happened. To be honest, I thought there was something more going on before then,” Chan recalls, “Though, his sudden change made me realize I was way off.”

Your eyebrows furrow at Chan’s comment, “Something more? Like romantic?”

He chuckles from the other end of the line, “Yeah, I thought something was going on between you two. You guys just seemed to click really well, better than any other costar you’ve had in the past, even to this day. Lowkey thought it was going to be a Tom Holland and Zendaya moment.”

“Jesus,” you mutter, “Definitely not that, I never thought of him that way.”

“You say that, but I remember the heart eyes you used to look at him with,” he teases.

“Oh, shut up. I did not. Besides, that’s not what’s important in the present time!”

He rolls his eyes, even though you couldn’t see it, you could feel it in his tone, “Yeah, yeah, whatever you say. You’re right though, it is a difficult situation for both of you to be in. Other than it being uncomfortable, how are you feeling about it?”

You let out a heavy sigh, “I mean, part of me is happy to be able to have a normal relationship with him, but… I’m still really mad at him for how he treated me. I don’t think it’s something I can let go of yet.”

“That’s okay. You have time to process all of that, no one is rushing you.”

“I know, but for a moment yesterday, I kinda forgot about all that. I had fun with him, and I want to keep having fun, but then I remember everything and feel so… upset that I am even letting him back into my life, even if it's for a bit.”

“Huh…” Chan muddles over your words for a moment, “That is quite the dilemma. I think you have every right to be upset at him, but I also think it’s okay if you miss your friend. I just think you have to figure out what kind of boundaries you want to set for yourself then. I think you can still have a nice time with him without him earning your forgiveness just yet. He can be a surface level friend or acquaintance until he proves himself trustworthy again.”

“You’re right, but I just didn’t like how easily it slipped my mind. Part of me feels like I should still be more on guard and not as friendly, but he makes that hard too.”

“Y/N, it’ll be okay,” he reassures, “You’ll figure it out, but it’s perfectly fine for you to have fun, while still having boundaries, okay?”

You sigh, still a bit unconvinced by his words, “I guess…”

“I know it’s hard, I can’t imagine what it's like to be in your position, but I promise it will be okay.”

“I’ll believe you just this once!”

“You say that every time, but sure, just this once. Call you tomorrow, alright?”

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It was the next evening, and you were anxiously waiting in your apartment for Hyunjin to arrive. You weren’t sure how today was going to go, and the idea Changbin had for you both today made you nervous, as it felt as a far more intimate setting than the previous dates. Although, you couldn’t entirely argue with his logic. Today, he suggested that you both cooked a simple dinner with each other, the idea being that it would help you both learn how to work together towards a common goal, which was dinner in this case.

Despite you being able to understand the logic behind his idea, it was incredibly intimidating to think about having Hyunjin in your own home, especially considering the sudden change in dynamic in your relationship. Even then, you didn’t just let anyone into your home, as you only ever had your closest friends come over for small hang outs, so this was far outside of your comfort zone, but perhaps that was a good thing. Maybe going out of your comfort zone with Hyunjin would only help you both succeed the next time you found yourselves on set, and perhaps something as intimate as cooking together would help you both ease into your roles.

A knock on the door wakes you from your thoughts, prompting you to shuffle hurriedly towards the door to open it for none other than Hyunjin. He greets you with a gentle smile, bowing his head slightly as you let him in wordlessly. There is an awkwardness that hangs in the atmosphere, indicating that you both were uncomfortable with today’s plans and he, too, was likely struggling to find the right words to say.

You take a deep breath in, almost as if you were catching your breath, “Welcome to my place!” You cringe internally at yourself, unable to handle the intensity of the awkwardness between you two and how poor your attempt was to disperse it.

“It’s really nice!” he compliments, standing in place by the entrance after removing his shoes.

“Thank you,” you respond, “Uhm, just follow me, the kitchen is this way. And all the ingredients are ready for us to use, Changbin had them delivered.”

Hyunjin follows you into the kitchen, his eyes taking in every detail around him, filling him with delight to see how characteristic of you the apartment was, it being a perfect representation of your personality. “What are we making again? I don’t think Changbin filled me in.”

“Oh, we’re just making curry udon! It’s something I’ve made before and it’s not too hard. My bad, I didn’t tell Changbin what we were making which is probably why he didn’t tell you. All I did was send him an ingredient list.”

“I forgot you like cooking,” he replies as he stops in your kitchen, quickly turning to the sink to wash his hands.

You hum in response, washing your hands after him, “I think it can be relaxing, but uh, if you want you can start with chopping the carrots and potatoes? I’ll handle the onion and garlic.” Hyunjin nods and follows your orders without much trouble, or so you think, until you turn around and see him holding the knife in a very precarious and questionable manner. Your eyes widen as you rush towards, “Oh my god, that is not how you should be trying to cut a potato. Have you not chopped a veggie in your entire life?”

He smiles sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders, “Listen, I don’t do this cooking thing often,” a gentle chuckle leaving him as he takes amusement in your concern, his heart thumping over the sudden proximity you both now shared.

“I-,” you sigh with a baffled expression, “Okay, let me just show you because I am not having you accidentally bleeding out all over my counter.” 

“You’re more worried about your counters than me?”

“Shut up,” you suppress a laugh before softly whispering, “Here, just do it like this,” you reach over and lay your hands atop of his without second thought, guiding him on how to position his hands without the risk of injury. Once you’ve become aware of how your bodies are pressed up against each other from the side, you jump away in an instant, “That’s it! That’s all you gotta do.” You’re quick to avoid eye contact with him, turning towards your own cutting board as you chastise yourself for being so careless with him at that moment.

Hyunjin’s face and ears were soon dusted with a soft pink, heat rushing across his body over the interaction that seemed so natural, but manages to mutter out a quiet ‘thank you’ before trying his knife skills out once more. Despite your momentary embarrassment, you are sure to take sneaky peaks at Hyunjin to make sure he was handling himself well. You move on from chopping and turn your attention to seasoning the chicken while Hyunjin was still focused on the vegetables, going at a leisurely place which you much preferred in this case. 

The rest of cooking goes on in silence aside from the occasional instruction or question, small witty jokes, and touches that seemed to linger more than necessary, but perhaps that was your imagination. Once everything was done, you both sat across from each other, admiring the fruits of your shared labor that was now plated in front of you both. 

“It looks really good!” Hyunjin comments enthusiastically, a wide, toothy grin spreading across his face. 

“It does, right? Let’s eat!”

Neither you miss a beat, taking a huge bite of the udon noodles, letting out a delighted groan over just how flavorful the food was. “Woah,” Hyunjin groans out, surprise at how well tonight had gone thus far with the added victory of food, “Holy shit, this is so yummy.”

“Mhmm,” you mumble out between slurping noodles, “This is better than when I make it on my own.”

“It’s the Hyunjin special that you’ve been missing this whole time,” he says matter-of-factly with a smug smile.

“You’re being pretty bold for a guy who just learned how to hold a knife today,” you tease, playfully sticking your tongue out. Your eyes catch each other for a moment between your fits of giggles, time stopping for the briefest second possible before you both avert your eyes out of nerves. What was that? You thought frantically to yourself, suddenly hyper aware of the strange warmth in your stomach that was also accompanied with the feeling of your stomach dropping. It was an uncomfortable feeling, one you didn’t know how to explain or ever experienced before, but you did know you didn’t want that combination of symptoms again for whatever emotion this was. You clear your throat, taking a sip of water as if it would wash away the discomfort, “I guess we are pretty good, huh? Maybe our acting project has hope if we are able to work this well together,” you joke, a very poor, if not disastrous, attempt to alleviate the awkwardness that seemed to follow you everywhere these days.

Your words stab Hyunjin in the heart, the guilt he had once forgotten was knocking at the door of his heart, forcing itself in without his permission. His entire demeanor deflated the moment those words left your lips, his heart writhing at the reminder that the only reason this situation existed was because of him and his blinding stupidity. Yet, here you are, warmly inviting into your home and treating him as if he was an old friend of the past, as if he had never wounded you and he couldn’t help but wonder if he was deserving of any of this. He stood still, gulping down his food before faintly whispering a hushed apology.

“I’m sorry.”

Your head snaps back up, your eyebrows furrowing with worry once you sense the sadness lacing his trembling voice, his head now turned downwards as if he was trying to mask his state. Perhaps the joke was a little too soon, you thought, now it being your turn to feel bad. “Ah, Hyunjin, I’m sorry-” you apologize hurriedly, “It was just a joke, please don’t take it too seriously. I’m sorry.”

He forces a smile, waving his hand as if to tell you to not worry about it, the words at the forefront of his tongue, but caught in his throat due to the heaviness sinking in his chest. Once again, shame paralyzed his body, the warm sensation behind his eyes reminding him to blink, reminding him he shouldn’t be so selfish in his pain when he was the cause of so much discomfort. Was any of this okay? Was any of this right? He wonders to himself, still unable to find forgiveness within himself. 

“Hyunjin,” you speak tenderly, your hand reaching across the table to touch his arm, grounding him back in the present, “I promise, it’s okay.” You knew that last bit was a lie, but it was for his own sake and comfort at this point. His treatment, his behavior, his attitude – none of it was ever okay, but you decided to ignore your own feelings and prioritize his. For the first time in two years, you cared about how he felt, you finally cared how your words harmed him, when before all you ever aimed for was a strike to his heart, but today, you chose to comfort his heart that your words unintentionally wounded. Although, your own heart and conscience briefly argued for a moment, one wanting to tend to his hurt, while the other demanded you let him rot in his misery, insisting he deserved it for what he had put you through. It was a tug-of-war you weren’t enjoying, you had almost wished you two remained in your heated hatred for one another and that nothing ever changed. Despite what your mind screamed at you, you chose to listen to your heart, you chose him over yourself.

He takes a deep breath in, trying to collect himself before speaking, “I just–,” a heavy exhale escapes him, “I’m just sorry. I just feel really, really, really bad for everything, but I also feel like I’m not allowed to feel bad when I was the one to hurt you.”

His eyes met yours, the glassiness of his eyes conveying the depth of his guilt, “Oh, Hyunjin,” you whisper apologetically, “Listen, I won’t lie to you, what you did was shitty. You did hurt me, but that is in the past. You feeling bad about it means you’re a good person, right? It means you’re human and that you care, but I don’t want you to let your guilt overwhelm you either.”

It was a genuine response in a moment of sudden vulnerability, your response taking him aback, but the words temporarily placating his never ending thoughts, “I guess, but… I don’t know if I can forgive myself,” he mumbles.

“You don’t have to yet, but you can learn to eventually,” you reply, “I understand it’s hard, and even I still need more time to do that myself, but I do think you deserve to be kind to yourself.” None of that was a lie, you did truly believe he was deserving of his own compassion, but his culpability helped you see the humanity in him. The spitefulness you once knew him for nowhere to be found, but instead there was only a guilt-ridden man who carried a world of humiliation. “I think I can learn to do so soon, too. Spending time with you helps. Besides, I did miss being friends with you if I’m being honest.”

The last sentence causes him to perk up, a small, satisfied smile playing onto your lips, “Really?” he asks, his ears barely believing your words, but his heart was swelling with hope. His eyes search yours, he can’t help but notice how they glimmer under the soft lowlights of your home, and for some reason, he finds warmth and comfort in them. He knows he can trust you, he knows you are being as candor as possible.

“Really, I mean it.”

“I missed it too.”

“Well, I’ll do my best to learn to trust you again. I’ll learn to forgive you eventually, just for now, it still hurts.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll learn too.”

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