#Peter's smiles 🥰

[vanalex]

I can't help it... I'm obsessed with him...

A little "history lesson" (for the ones interested) about how I became a fan of Type O Negative... and my feelings towards them...

When I heard 'my girlfriend's girlfriend ' for the first time in 1996 I was just a teen. Watching MTV in my bedroom. I was, at that time, very much into 60s music and aesthetic. A hippie après la lettre, sort of speak... I was also, for as long as I remember, obsessed with vampires and a huge fan of Anne Rice's Vampire Chronicles.

So when this video came on I loved the colorful backdrop and sixties influences. And then there were 4 guys dressed in black, looking like vampires. Especially the singer. I lost it. This was my new favorite band. 🤗

When 'Love you to death' came out I ordered the T-shirt (a girl t-shirt, not the unisex shirts they sell now) via postorder catalogue Large. I loved that T-shirt and would still have it, if my mom didn't throw it out with all my other band shirts, because she thinks you need to keep the economy going by buying new stuff all the time and getting rid of "old" stuff. Insert *dramatic eyeroll*

Type O Negative were not a mainstream band and unfortunately, growing up in a small town, I was about the only one, as far as I know, that liked their music.

So, I completely missed out on their 1999 world coming down release. ☹️

In the early 2000s, a record store in the city where I went to college had a clearance sale. I found the least worst of CD and bought it. Around that same time I bought the After Dark DVD. It was only then that I found out about world coming down. I liked the "new" songs, but also had mixed feelings about them. They depicted an unhealthy lifestyle.

In 2003 'I don't wanna be me' was playing on MTV and I was excited to hear more new music from them and seeing them on MTV again. I remember also being shocked with Peter's appearance in that video. He did not look well... It would become clear he wasn't doing well at all: mental and physical health problems, addiction, jail time, forced rehab, relationship problems, etc...

Later that year Type O Negative came to a festival a few hours driving from where I lived... Unfortunately I had noone to go with and my boyfriend and I were volunteering for a local 'save the forest' non profit that same weekend. I thought I would see them next time, but the same circumstances made me not see them in 2007... 😥

And although Peter looked better (healthier) in the late 2000s, he aged a lot due to his addictions and lifestyle, he also looked kind of sad when he was performing on Wacken in 2007.

When he died in 2010 I initially had peace with it, thinking it was probably for the best.... knowing about his struggles and losses...

I did not know about the circumstances of his death until many years later and since then I've felt it could have been prevented. He did not OD, he did not commit suicide... he was clean for almost a year (!), he looked happy in his last interview 🥹... he died because he didn't receive the correct medical care on time... because he was taking care of his sick cat instead of himself, because the people nearby him didn't help (Did they not see/know how severely ill he was? I guess we'll never know)...

I've always felt like I missed out on something with not seeing Type O Negative live. From all the bands I've listened to as a teen until now, they're the only band that I love more with each time I listen to them. I don't have this kind of connection with other bands/artists... Seeing pictures, videos, ... of them makes me very nostalgic... it feels like they're still around. And then it hits me they're not 😥 I just miss this band a lot and wish we had more years with them, more music...

So... seeing old pictures of them, especially Peter in his more happier and healthier years (everything before world coming down era and even before 1997), makes me feel nostalgic ... "obsessed" ... and the pictures where he smiles are solid gold. 💚

I wonder... did he ever know how truly special he was ? Handsome, intelligent, goofy, creative, sensitive... I guess he didn't and let his value be determined by others. At least, that's how I interpret some of his lyrics... What do you think about this?

So, what's your story? Why do you love their music? I would love to find out!

This last picture is my absolute favorite 💚

[yournameoneverypage]

[sga-mcshep-4ever]

[witha-grumpdang-whoosh]

// Arin “literally just a happy little kid” Hanson 🥰

[hunterbloodknight]

The Doctor - Hold my hand

Clara - I'm okay

The Doctor - I'm not

[nmakii]

Yan!Alastor with a sweet little doe reader that loves to stay close to them and is rather clingy? Cuddles are a must, light kisses on the chin, wanting to walk together with held hands, physical contact is basically their love language! 🥰 even going for his fluffy ears cause who wouldn’t?? I love your writing btw! It makes me happy whenever you have something new for us ❤️

SAY YOU’LL NEVER LEAVE ME!

— yandere!alastor x clingy!reader

— AGH!! this made me scream thank you sm i love you!!! violence warning! pure yandere fluff 😲

is in love with how clingy you are! you refuse to leave his side, and he didn’t even need to force you! alastor loves a submissive darling who’d do what he desires without asking

not to mention how innocent you are! how did such a sweet little doe such as yourself get into hell? st. peter must have been mistaken!

because of your pure nature, alastor would only want the best things for his darling! just promise him to be his forever, and the rest of hell will be in the palm of your hand.

alastor himself isn’t one for physical touch though. he doesn’t mind keeping you at his side nor does he mind the kisses, don’t get it wrong, he adores your kisses! touching his ears though may be harder to adjust to.

he hates the reminder that he is a prey animal, he himself enjoys being the predator. your gentle touch against his fluffy ears and antlers as he twitches under your touch makes him quite uncomfortable to the fact you’re touching his weakest and most sensitive spot.

eventually, he grows to accept the fact that to be yours, he must make some sort of sacrifice. and if it’s this, so be it…

although, because of your clingy behavior, it only raises his possessiveness. seeing you even talking to someone else would make his blood boil.

especially if it is someone alastor has conflict with; seeing you even be approached by lucifer or vox would make him jealous; his smile would grow strained, his murderous intent thick in the air, enough to cut with a knife.

against lucifer or fellow overlords, alastor wouldn’t act upon it. despite his huge ego, he knows better than to pick a fight with demons who are more powerful than him.

to those who are lesser than him… unfortunately, they’re not as lucky.

of course though, being the gentleman he is, he refuses to taint your soul with all the carnage and bloodshed he commits to keep you as his sweet doe.

‘LIVE ON AIR’ the neon sign in alastor’s broadcast station lit up as the speakers across pentagram city came to life. a man begging for his life, screaming as various noises were heard. one could only assume the radio demon was tearing his soul to pieces.

the sound of flesh being ripped apart was gruesome as the sinner’s bloodcurdling screams grew weaker. the sound of his corpse being hit against the walls of the station at least 40 times until alastor threw the body onto the floor.

when the man screamed no more, alastor’s voice was heard, sighing deeply, as if all his pent-up stress had just been released before joyful music started playing in the background. “good evening, sinners! take this broadcast as a reminder not to mess with what belongs to me! lest you’d like me to feast on your screams.” alastor warned before he laughed maniacally. and then he was gone once more.

after releasing all of his fury, he returned back to your shared bedroom, his cute little doe in pretty jammies he bought for you. so comfy in bed while hugging a plushie of a manically-cute red kitty, the antlers on its’ head resembling alastor’s. “alastor, what took so long?” you pouted as he began to retire in his nightwear, first taking off his bowtie.

“forgive me, my doe. there were many things to cover tonight on my radio broadcast…” he smiled, pinching your plump cheeks; so yummy and jiggly under his touch. “could i make it up to you tonight?” he smiled widely.

“ugh, then hurry up, please?!” you hit the sheets in frustration. “ahaha… just be patient, my darling.” he patted your head, getting into bed with you. turning off the lights before he wrapped his lanky arms around your waist, burying his face in your hair and leaving a trail of light kisses over your head.

the next time you’d see alastor’s broadcast station, a peculiar skeleton is pinned, adding a grotesque look to the hotel

[moonstruckme]

Mae!!! I am so happy to see you opening up requests for Thawing Out because I am genuinely OBSESSED and I haven’t stopped thinking about it 💖💖💖 So, what if during practice, Remus (unknowingly, obviously) said something to r, like making a correction or something, and it’s something Peter had said. And Sirius recognizes it too!! And you can decide what happens 🥰 Love you! 💖

Thank you for requesting lovely <33

collab with @ellecdc

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11 | part 12

cw: modern au, chronic pain, Peter mention

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 2k words

You’re an angel on the ice. Gliding and sweeping, your movements so ethereal Sirius half expects to look down and find that your skates are floating above the surface of the ice, or that you’ve etched the next great work of art into the canvas beneath your feet. But he doesn’t, because it’s clear as day that the true art is in the creation, and it’s got its fingers clasped around his. Sirius feels lucky to bear witness. 

You have the look of someone who’s given themselves over to their craft, your expression poised but eyes sparkling as you transition neatly from one move to the next until you’re coasting alongside Sirius. You’re wearing leg warmers today, far from unconventional in your sport but it’s humiliating how adorable he finds it on you. Your nails are short and neat, fingers surprisingly warm in his own, eyelashes fluttering as you tilt your head back. 

You make it look easy. The way you arch your back until you’re nearly parallel to the ice, skating on only the edge of one skate while Sirius draws you in a circle around him. He starts to lower himself, finding the position you’d practiced off ice. Your grip on his hand is strong, your head tilting until the hairs escaping from your bun are whipping just above the ice, until Sirius is sure you can feel its chill on the back of your neck, and he can’t do it. 

He keeps you a few inches above where he knows you’re supposed to be, holds you there with the momentum of his spin, and then hoists you up and into your spin. 

You look at him bemusedly as you land on your other skate, a questioning flicker of eye contact Sirius pretends not to notice. You finish out the rest of your routine perfectly. 

“That was great,” Remus says from the entryway. Sirius has noticed that he’s taken to watching you from there rather than from the bleachers on days when his hip isn’t giving him as much trouble. He wonders if Remus is almost tantalizing himself, standing on the edge of the ice but knowing he can’t go further. “Y/n, you had a lovely arch going into the spiral, but I want to see you stay more on that outside edge during the lutz-loop combination. Just play it safe on that one, alright?” 

“Yeah.” You nod, looking encouraged. “Sorry, I felt myself slip a bit there.” 

“You managed it just fine,” Remus reassures you. He gives you a gentle smile, and Sirius stomach does something fluttery and unsanctioned. “It’s good that you noticed, we only want to keep an eye on it, yeah?” 

You smile in reply. The commotion in Sirius’ stomach worsens. 

“And Sirius,” Remus turns to him, “we still have to get a bit lower on the spiral. Her head should be below her knee.” 

Sirius frowns. “I know.” 

It’s a non-answer and Remus knows it, but he doesn’t snipe back at him. His brows twitch together thoughtfully. “We’ve still got a few days. Do you need more time to practice off ice?” 

“No,” Sirius replies. He wishes the other boy would get angry with him, give him something to shoot back at, something other than kindness and temperance and this lame, irksome understanding. He almost wants to roll his eyes as he adds, “I’ll work on it.” 

Remus seems (frustratingly) appeased with that. “Alright, just be careful on your left pick when you get down there.” His voice takes on a teasing lilt. “We don’t need any more accidents this close to competition, Pads.” 

Sirius waits for the flash of irritation. But your laughter rings out brilliant and lovely, and Remus is smiling at the both of you with something like fondness, and he can’t seem to find it. 

Fucking James. Sirius ought to know better than to automatically trust anyone his best friend likes—you’ve both suffered the consequences from that once already—but it’s difficult to summon his usual disdain for Remus after watching the two of them chinwag and snicker like old friends at practice the other day. It was odd seeing James so familiar with someone else, but Sirius found he couldn’t muster any jealousy. As much as he loathes to think of it, you were right—learning James and Remus were old friends did make him think. In ways that remind Sirius why thinking is one of his least favorite activities. 

He shoots Remus the bird over his shoulder. Unfortunately, in doing so, he fails to notice a blemish in the ice which catches his skate, causing him to pitch forward before righting himself. 

Remus’ lips twitch, but Sirius holds up a hand. “You can keep your quips to yourself.” 

“I didn’t say anything.” 

“Then you can keep your looks to yourself.” 

You implement Remus’ alteration to your lutz-loop combination flawlessly. It’s something you’ve always been good at, confident enough to take feedback and skilled enough to make the changes stick. It’s part of why you’re as good as you are, the amalgamation of every scrap of advice you’ve ever received and a fierce determination that's all your own. You jump and spin and twist your way through the routine beautifully. 

Sirius, on the other hand, is not so great with critiques. The death spiral stays exactly the way it is, with your head safely above the ice and neither of you low enough to get full points. And that’s likely how it will stay. 

He can tell you and Remus are both getting more frustrated, more disappointed, every time he fails to take it all the way, but Sirius can’t bring himself to go any further. His heart won’t let him. 

“We’ll do some more off ice tomorrow,” Remus decides for him as you both take off your skates. “We’ve got the time, everything else is looking beautiful. Sirius, maybe work on getting low on your own today, so we’ve less to cover tomorrow.” Sirius nods down towards his skates. He doesn’t feel like looking at either one of you. “And y/n, the only thing I’m still noticing from you is that landing on your triple axle. You’re a bit wobbly. I want you to focus on controlling your descent and really sticking it. It looks nearly perfect, you’re just making me a little nervous—this would be a shit time to have to go into an early retirement, wouldn’t it?” 

It’s said lightly, a hint of a smile at the tail end, but your face twinges like he’s snapped at you. Remus’ brow furrows in mild confusion, and Sirius feels a hard fist clench in his chest. He wouldn’t know what had made you react like that either, if you hadn’t repeated Peter’s words to him yourself. 

He told the other coach that I was one bad jump away from injuring myself into an early retirement.

“I’m not actually worried about that—you’re too skilled for an injury that severe to be very likely, I just,” Remus is watching you carefully, clearly trying to reason out where he went wrong, “thought I should bring it to your attention. Only as a precaution.” 

You nod several times, quicker and harder than necessary. “Yeah.” Your lips press into a smile. “I’ll be careful, thanks.” 

Sirius sets his hand on top of yours, shit at comfort but meaning to try anyway, but your hand slips away as you get up and sling your bag over your shoulder. 

“I have to get home,” you say, squeezing Sirius’ shoulder as if in apology. Your expression is tight. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow, okay?” 

“Okay,” Remus echoes. He watches you go with a half-remorseful look on his face, like he doesn’t know what he’s done but he feels bad for it anyway. 

Seeing as you haven’t waited for him, Sirius supposes he’ll be walking home on his own today. He sets his skates in his bag, beginning to tug on his shoes. 

Remus broaches the silence almost tentatively. “Did she seem alright to you?” Sirius doesn’t know how to respond to that, but the other boy goes on before he has to. “Did…do you know if I said something to upset her?” 

Sirius shrugs. “Nope.” 

Remus can probably smell the lie—he’s not gone to any great lengths to conceal it—but Sirius doesn’t care. The look of hurt on your face has set a familiar protective ire buzzing beneath his skin, and Remus is the one who caused it. Neither of you owe him any explanation. 

Remus falls quiet again, but he waits while Sirius finishes packing up, walks with him towards the exit. 

“How long have you and James been friends?” he asks. 

“A long time,” Sirius answers shortly. “I moved in with him and his parents when I was sixteen.” 

“Oh.” Remus turns to look at him. Sirius feels his gaze, wide and curious, on the side of his face. “Yeah, a long time, then. It was nice to talk to him again. We used to run into each other so often, but I hadn’t seen him since…well, since I left, I suppose.” 

There’s a melancholy that lays itself down over those last few words, the nostalgia in Remus’ voice smothered underneath. Maybe it’s that quiet tone, maybe it’s the image of James and Remus together, laughing and talking about their futures on the ice during early mornings at the rink, but Sirius feels himself softening. 

“He mentioned something,” Remus says tentatively, “about your last coach. It didn’t sound like things ended well.” 

Sirius pushes out a breath. “They didn’t.” 

“Was he not very good?” 

“No,” he can hear the frustration seeping into his voice. He wishes Peter were worse at his job. That he’d been an idiot, didn’t understand your styles, and none of you had ever managed to get along. It would have made everything so much easier. “He was good.” 

“I’m not trying to pry,” says Remus, “but if what happened with him is going to affect how you two are with me—if it has anything to do with how I upset y/n today—I would appreciate if you told me.” 

So Sirius does. He’s not sparing with the details, and Remus doesn’t begrudge him the anger that grips him as he talks about Peter’s betrayal, where it left the two of you, how it’s still coming back to hurt you even now. It makes him furious, but where he’d expected Remus to take it all in calmly, Sirius is surprised when the other boy’s jaw gets tight as he listens. He has questions: How long had you worked with Peter? Did either of you have to get involved with the case, or did his emails speak for themselves? Does Sirius know how long Peter was playing double-agent? 

By the time they’re on Sirius’ block, Remus has begun alternating between shaking his head and huffy, revolted exhalations. 

“I can’t believe he said that to her.” He shakes his head, guilt digging into the space between his brows. “I can’t believe I said it, either, but I was only trying to make a joke about myself, not…she’s far too skilled to have a fall like that—well, anyone could, but she’s only as likely as anyone else at her level. Which isn’t very many people.” 

“That’s what I told her,” Sirius agrees. “I think she was mostly over it, but…” 

“I reminded her.” Remus sighs. “I’ll have to make it up to her.” 

“She’ll be alright,” he says honestly. “I think it just surprised her.” 

“She’s really good.” 

“I know.” 

“She has to know that.” 

“She…” Sirius hesitates. “Do we ever really know it, about ourselves?” 

“Oh, come off it.” Remus gives Sirius a knowing look. His mouth tugs up on one side. “You clearly know how good you are.” 

Sirius feels a pleased tingle of warmth in his face. He walks backwards up the stairs to his flat, leveling Remus with a cocky grin. “Am I?” 

“Don’t. You maintain your own ego well enough without my help.” 

“Oh, but it never hurts to have disciples.” He fishes out his key, unlocking the door. “You could remind me from time to time, just for fun.” 

When he turns, Remus is watching him from the sidewalk with a gleam of something like amusement in his eye. “Nail the spiral,” he says, “and we’ll see.”

[tojisun]

Godddd please I need more of the Simon orgasm denial!! How did he lose his privileges!? (Its so good 🥰)

!! established dom/sub dynamics, including a primary dom; drawn out sex play; mentioned daddy kink

cuz he was mean :/

you were such a good pet; writhing on the bed, your body bound and tied, and fat welting underneath the rope. john had been silent at the start, detached and cold, and it had only been the warm hand on your knee that let you know that it was part of the play and not a personal vendetta.

so he didn’t take part in the taking. in simon using your pliant body, hungry and overwhelming with his maw pulled into a snarl because he is a beast; a stalking machine with his master’s permission to do what he must to the pet.

(a pretty canary that willingly lets herself be caged; presents her wings so they get clipped, and tucks her claws away until she is soft and sweet and beautiful and tender.

until she is delectable in her submission.)

simon edged you until you couldn’t understand where pleasure ends and where pain begins. he set your synapses ablaze, and you burned bright and slow, like you were being reduced into tendrils of your undoing.

you begged. you cried and whimpered, calling—not simon’s name, no—for john. calling for—

daddy.

(john smiles, his heart fluttering at the desperation in your call; at the way you come back to him naturally. and simon may be the one fucking you, simon may be the one pulling you apart and fixing you back up, but it’s john that you need.

it’s john who you ask for.)

“wan’ cum. da-ddy,” your voice broke, petering into a hiccuped gasp. “please let m’cum.”

and john loves his canary—flightless bird, so docile even when you’re clipped and declawed—so he gave his permission, grunting out simon’s name to finally let you break into your drawn out euphoria.

but simon didn’t listen; he was deaf to john’s words. and his ignorance had led him to defy john’s authority.

the next minutes were a blur to you, and all you were left with was a promise that things would change from now on. john said this to you while he slowly slid his fingers in your wet cunt, murmuring to you praises and words of adoration, saying how you’ve been so good and beautiful; how john’s never had to doubt your obedience, and how all this would fully be rewarded.

you came with john’s name falling from your lips, and your eyes still locked onto simon’s trembling body on the floor.

[ham44vibes]

🥰

family picture minus george

[solaireverie]

lh44 | all eyes on you, my magician

pairing: lewis hamilton x f!merc admin!reader

summary: [ social media au ] lewis has a soft spot for the person behind the mercedes account and is a little obvious about it

warnings: one (1) swear word

faceclaim: maisie peters

author's note: it's been a hot minute (two years) since i've written x reader or social media aus, bear with me :) enjoy!

liked by roscoelovescoco, lewishamilton, yourusername and 704,172 others

tagged: lewishamilton, roscoelovescoco

mercedesamgf1 very important good boy(s) appreciation post ❤️

view comments

roscoelovescoco love's the photos!

liked by mercedesamgf1, yourusername

user all i want to know is who took the first picture 🧐

↪ user same like who got you smiling like that lewis???

yourusername the cutest!! seeing roscoe was truly the highlight of my week

liked by roscoelikescoco, lewishamilton

↪ user lewis whatcha doing in the likes 🤨

↪ user it wasn't just lewis' main he also liked on roscoe's acc 😭 what is going on

↪ user so we're all taking this as yourusername seeing roscoe in person instead of through instagram like the rest of us peasants right?

liked by lewishamilton, georgerussell63, yourusername and 814,283 others

tagged: lewishamilton, georgerussell63

mercedesamgf1 #throwbacktuesday to the spanish gp ⏮

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user lewis is so obviously admin's favorite that it's not even funny at this point 💀

↪ user poor george having to thirdwheel whatever admin and lewis have going on

liked by georgerussell63

↪ user george liked??? lewis and admin what do you have to say for yourself

↪ mercedesamgf1 no comment 😜

user okay now i'm curious who exactly runs the merc account?

↪ yourusername 🤭🤭🤭

liked by yourbestfriend, lewis hamilton, mickschumacher and 234 others

yourusername summer break dump 🌥

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roscoelovescoco we's misses you's!

↪ user we?? we???? roscoe hamilton explain yourself 🎤

↪ yourusername i miss you two too 🫶

↪ user you two???!!! 😳

carmenmmundt don't get attacked by an ostrich xoxo

↪ yourusername i stayed a safe distance away 🫡

↪ carmenmmundt good girl ❤️ proud of you for keeping my darling safe

↪ georgerussell63 ?????????????

liked by lewishamilton

↪ yourusername avert your eyes, georgie boy, avert your eyes

yourusername has added to their story

geotag: monaco

liked by yourusername, mercedesamgf1, carmenmmundt and 901,516 others

tagged: yourusername, mercedesamgf1

lewishamilton reunited at last 🤍

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user not lewis tagging both y/n and mercedes 😂

liked by yourusername

georgerussell63 hard launch much?

↪ carmenmmundt babe i'm pretty sure y/n's posts on the merc account counted as their soft launch 😉

liked by yourusername

yourusername happy to see roscoe again 🐶

↪ lewishamilton and me?

↪ yourusername you're okay too i guess... 🙄

↪ yourusername jk i love you to the moon and saturn 💗

liked by lewishamilton

user i want what they have (i've known about them for three hours)

mercedesamgf1 congratulations lewis and y/n 🌹

↪ susie_wolff toto wants me to inform you that that's not how you're meant to be using the account. that aside, i'm so proud of both of you! come to dinner soon 😊

↪ mercedesamgf1 tysm susie 🥰 and tell bossman that he can get on instagram himself if he wants to yell at me

likes and reblogs are appreciated!

masterlist

[evanpeterspeter]

Kinktober day 3

Peter Maximoff - phone sex/sexting

Cw: lewd content. That’s it

———————————————————————————

It was a foggy Thursday afternoon, Peter was at home in his messy unkept Room (Basement), just playing Pac-Man and eating that garbage sponge cake with artificial cream in between, just finding a way to waste away the day. You were at your house, stuck studying for your big exam tomorrow. You sat crisscrossed at your desk, eyes dozing off at your mindless textbook of anatomy. You were abruptly awoken by the buzz of your phone. You grabbed it, seeing your favorite speedster had texted you. You couldn’t help but smile ear to ear, happy to hear from your boyfriend.

🏃🩶Speedster⚡️🥰

Heya babes! wyd?

You

Just studying. You?

🏃🩶Speedster⚡️🥰

You should be studying me.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his cheesy comment, though you did let out a small scoff of a laugh.

You

You’re so dumb, you know that right?

🏃🩶Speedster⚡️🥰

Just for you.

You shut off your phone and tossed it onto the bed, standing up from your chair, stretching your arms over your head, and letting out a lion like yawn. You were wearing a silk sleep tank top with a matching pair of silk shorts. As you finished your stretch you pounced onto the bed, hugging your bat Squishmallow under your chest, and picking your phone back up. 8 notifications from Peter? It’s been less than 2 minutes, you thought to yourself.

🏃🩶Speedster⚡️🥰

BABEEE!!!

🏃🩶Speedster⚡️🥰

Facetime meeee!

🏃🩶Speedster⚡️🥰

IMYYYYY!

And there were 5 missed FaceTime calls. “My god..This boy is gonna be the death of me.” You decided to FaceTime him, like one ring in and he immediately answered.

“Babe! I’ve missed you!”

“Peter, I put my phone down for less than 2 minutes.” You said giggling

“You know that’s a century for me babes…whatcha’ wearing?” He said with a dumb smirk on his face. You looked down and saw that your cleavage was out, you scoffed and picked up your silk tank. “BOOOO! I was enjoying that.” Peter exclaimed in a whiney pout.

“Well, I’m wearing my silk set you got me.” You smiled, standing up, propping up your phone, then stepping away to do a small twirl, showing off the skimpy silk material Peter gifted (Definitely stole) you. He whistled at you and smiled.

“What a beaut! My gorgeous girl.” You couldn’t help but blush and giggle, walking towards the phone, picking it up, and pressing a kiss at the camera. You took him to your vanity, placing the phone in front of the mirror and sitting in the frame of the camera. You opened your mini fridge that held your skin care products and started applying them. “Remind me why you need all those?” Peter said.

“Helps my skin stay clear and fresh.” You said while applying the cool cream to your cheeks. The cold of the cream made your body shiver, giving small goosebumps throughout your body.

As you looked at the frame you saw Peter’s eyes fixated on the bottom of the camera. You inspected closer to the camera and noticed he was staring at your hardened nipples. You quickly hugged your elbows together and gasped. “Peter! I saw that!” “What? I wasn’t lookin’! I saw nothin’!” He said lying through his teeth. “…Okay, Okay! I was looking, but you can’t blame me! You look stunnin’, babes.” You shook your head and unraveled your arms, to continue your routine.

You noticed how awfully quiet Peter was being, so you looked back down at the frame, to your surprise (Not really) you saw the silver-headed boy moving his lower half. His eyes were closed, gently biting his bottom lip, and the phone bouncing. “P-peter? What are you doing?” Something about that visual of his, made butterflies appear not just in your stomach, but lower. Peter smirked at the camera. “You wanna see babes?” You bit the inside of your cheek and nodded slowly. Peter flipped the camera, to show his large shaft in the grasp of his palm. You unintentionally bit your lower lip, seeing how blush pink of his tips was, and the glistening of his precum dripping onto the mid of his cock. “Can I see ya’?” He said in a charming tone. “I-I don’t know. I’m kinda shy…” you stuttered. “Come on babes, I’ve seen her before. So beautiful and petite.” “I know, but I’m camera shy.” You said hiding your face. “Why be shy? No one is here to see except me.” You thought about it for a second and then nodded. “Okay, but no screenshots okay? Promise me, Peter.” “I pinky promise, with Twinkies on top.” You giggled and plopped over to your bed.

Propping your phone on the foot of your bed, you sat up on your knees, slowly grasping your silk garment and pulling it suggestively over your head, letting your soft and plush tits bounce free. Peter let out a soft groan at the sight of your soft perky nipples. You then shimmied off your silk bottoms, wiggling your hips to tease Peter. As you pulled them off, you laid onto your back showing your cute, plump pussy lips. They were freshly shaved and moisturized from that afternoon. “F-fuck you’re so beautiful.” You were already wet from the sound and view of him and how you wish he was touching you right there and now. You slid your fingers in between your slick folds, and spread your soft lips apart, reviling a pink ombre with a glisten of slick on your entrance and clit. “God, I just need a taste of that,” Peter said as his breathing had quickened. You used your two fingers to start rubbing yourself in a circular motion, just squirming at the thought of Peter eating you out. You let out some small petite mewls, as you grinded against your fingers, eager for Peter’s touch. You let out some gasps. “P-peter..mmmm” Something about that almost made Peter explode. He started jerking off at a faster pace. “Fuck babes… You’re gonna make me cum.” You picked up the pace and started rubbing side to side at a quick speed, feeling your core tighten. Peter was holding off as much as he could but miserably failed as he came all over himself. You weren’t too far after him as you also came, you let out a messy moan, moaning Peter’s name as your entrance tightened with each convulse of your orgasm. “That’s my girl.” He spoke with a soothing tone.

After collecting your thoughts you sat up on your knees, smiling looking at the camera to see Peter wasn’t in the frame. “Petey?” You said tilting your head like a lost puppy. You pouted seeing he wasn’t there, and silently put your clothes back on, feeling embarrassed and slightly ashamed, like as if you felt used. You knew Peter would never use you, but you were kinda used to it from the other guys. You felt your eyes well up and you hung up the phone. As you tuck yourself into bed the phone dings.

🏃🩶Speedster⚡️🥰

Babe? Where did you go?

You saw the notification light up the ceiling but then turned the other way and hid under your blanket. Letting out soft cries as you hugged yourself feeling empty and used.

🏃🩶Speedster⚡️🥰

Hey, Is everything okay?

🏃🩶Speedster⚡️🥰

Don’t make me go over there.

Next thing you know you felt a heavy body on the end of your bed. Peter was there. He lifted your duvet, to see you curled in a ball, hugging your Squishmallow. “Babe, Hey, what’s wrong?” He scooted closer, scooping you into his arms. You hiccuped and cried. “I-I thought you used me.” You gasped in between cries. “Hey, baby. I would never do that to you. You are the world to me, Y/n” “I’m so annoying, I’m sorry Peter.” Peter pulled you to his chest, shushing you in a calming sense. “You are not, babe. I was cleaning myself up and I was preparing for a potential movie night on the phone with you. But since I’m here, we can watch something together, Yeah?” You lifted your heavy head looking at him. He wiped away your tears with the pad of his thumbs. “Yes, my starshine?” You smiled and pressed a tender kiss on his lips. “I love you, Petey.” You said caressing his soft stubble jaw. “I love you more.”

———————————————————————————

Taglist: @evansonlylove @xrag-dollx @warrenlipkaswife @jazz-berry @am3ricanh0rrorwh0re @fear-is-truth

[vanalex]

[weird-is-life]

rockstar!peter finding readers ig and following her or smth

Hiii, lovely🥰ty for this cute request, I'm sorry it took so long, sorry this is not very good lmao. Warnings: mentions of alcohol, Peter is a hopeless (and dramatic) romantic, swear words, fluff, (0.8k)

Peter doesn't even remember the last time he had a real, serious crush on somebody. Like rockstars probably shouldn't even have crushes like that. His band mates would joke that it's very unrockstar-like.

But.....

Peter is and always has been a hopeless romantic. Even before the band's fame had started to rise. So it's safe to say that Peter is down bad.

When you don't text him after one day and then two days and then three days, Peter goes insane.

He ends up thinking that you either read his letter and ignored it or that you threw the paper away. In his hopeful spirits, he chooses to believe in the latter option.

And that's how he somehow ends up scrolling through the endless hashtag of the concert. He hopes that you or at least one of your friends tagged a photo or a video or something so he can somehow text you.

After what feels like endless search Peter almost gives up. He searches all the possible hashtags of the event, and doesn't find anything.

He gets close to just throwing his phone across the room, and leaving it there when he finally finds you.

It's you. But the photo isn't under any hashtags. The venue where the concert was held reblogged your friends post, and that's how Peter found it.

It's a photo of you and your two friends smiling big in front of the main stage. You look as pretty as Peter remembers, but something else catches his attention.

You are wearing the shirt. His shirt! And somehow Peter's stomach does some things that he didn't even think were possible. Butterflies only get worse as he looks at the picture again.

To Peter's insane luck your friend did tag you in the photo, but..... You have a private profile.

"Shit," Peter groans loudly. He doubts you will accept his request if you have indeed ignored the paper.

He contemplates whether he should just move on or whether he should click the request button.

Peter doesn't get the choice to decide as he accidentally clicks on the request button with a part of his hand. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he quickly locks the phone, and throws it away from him.

"She's gonna block me," Peter murmurs to himself, and runs his hands through his hair in frustration. Peter puts his face in his palms in despair, praying that the earth would just swallow him.

Peter doesn't know how long he stays in that position until a loud sound of a new notification bolts him upright.

He reaches for his phone with a slightly shaky hands. He manages to unlock his phone on like a fourth try after saying to himself, " fucking hell, Peter. Get it together."

The notification indeed came from you. You accepted his request along with a text.

The text says, "Did you give me a fake number?" You ask with an attached picture of the paper he gave you.

Peter's heart literally stops. He feels like such an idiot, like the biggest idiot that has ever walked this Earth actually.

No, he didn't give you a fake number. And no you didn't ignore his letter. And no you didn't throw the paper away.

Peter just doesn't seem to know his own phone number. Stupid stupid stupid. I guess, Peter in such a hurry to write that letter for you wrote one number from his phone number wrong.

Peter doesn't think he has ever written a text as quickly as he has now. He types an apology along with the correct phone number, and hopes you will forgive him and his poor memory.

He notices that you open his text, but you don't respond. He waits for your response for like 5 minutes (loosing his shit may I add), already thinking that you are gonna ghost him.

But of course, you aren't. You thought that Peter, a huge upcoming rockstar, gave you a fake number just to mess with you.

So when you finally tried sending him a message, and it didn't send through, you were gutted to say the least. You drank your silly little crush away with your two best friends and a bottle of wine.

Already thinking of how much a fool you've been for thinking that he'd actually give his number to you.

So to say the least you definitely didn't expect a follow request from him the morning after.

Still slightly hungover from the wine, you accept the request and send him the texts.

When he responds with an apology, and allegedly the right phone number you are a bit hesitant to message him again.

After thinking it through quickly, you message him," Is this really Peter this time?"

He responds almost immediately with a photo of him having a big smile on his face. More than beyond happy that you aren't ghosting him.

And safe to say that your friends are even more happy once they wake up and hear it. Celebratory wine being opened once again.

And so are you. You are very excited to get to know Peter. And for him to get to know you.

[lovelettersforthedamned]

thinking about telling tasm!peter to come over with his favorite camera and take pictures in my lingerie and pictures of him fucking me just for later 🥰

Take A Picture, I’ll Last Longer 

--genre + trope: fluff, nsfw.

--pairing: college!tasm!peter parker x college!f!reader

--word count: 0.7k

--warnings: use of a camera, mentions of pants tightening (LMAO), lingerie.

“What’re you doing right now, baby?”

A beat passes before he responds, “Nothing, bug. Why? What’s up?”

“Oh, nothing,” you sigh, “just missing you.” Holding the phone to your ear, you look at yourself in the mirror in front of you. You admire the lace details on the recent purchases you picked up from the store, running your finger along the trim. 

“Well, I can come over right now. Just give me like fifteen minutes to get over there,” you can hear the rustling of objects in the background, Peter not needing confirmation to start getting ready to leave.

A smirk rises to your lips, deciding to play with his head a little bit, “You better hurry, baby. I wanna show you something. Oh! And bring your camera with you.”

He notices that you’re tone has changed, and it makes him wonder what you could be planning. He pauses his movements to reach over to his desk, picking up his trusty camera. “Okay bug, I’ll be there soon.”

“Bye, Petey.” 

Hanging up, you toss your phone on the bed, taking a look at yourself another time. A part of you is nervous coming off this strong, anxious thoughts plague your mind. What if I don’t look good? Is this too much? He might think this is stupid, I should just change. Taking a deep breath, you calm yourself down. Peter is a simple man, if he sees his stunning girlfriend in a beautiful set of lingerie, he’s going to worship your being for the rest of his days. There was no doubt about it. 

Your curtains are drawn when you hear a knock on your window, hastily walking over, you pull them back, revealing your figure. Even with the glass separating you two, you could feel Peter’s eyes run across every inch of your body.

He’s the one that pushes the window open, eyes never leaving your frame as he climbs inside your bedroom. Dropping the backpack he brought with him to the floor, he pulls your face in to envelop your lips in a breathtaking kiss. He starts to walk the both of you to your bed behind you, clearly needing you as soon as possible. “Wait, baby,” you pull away, breathless, “did you bring your camera?”

Still an inch away from your face, he eyes your lips as you talk, “Yeah, why?” 

You push him away, and sit on the corner of your bed, “Take some pictures of me. I bought this just for you.” 

A breathy laugh leaves him, staring at you with eyes full of lust. He can’t believe what you’ve just asked, he’s in shock, he’s in love. Breaking eye contact with you, he reaches down into his backpack and pulls out his camera, turning it on and correcting the focus before snapping a picture of you sitting on the bed, legs crossed, leaning back on your hands, eyes looking up through your eyelashes, and a dangerously wicked smile on your lips. The quick and bright flash lights up the room as the shutter, along with Peter’s breathy moans, are the only things heard within those walls. 

Your little photoshoot lasts a good twenty minutes, Peter barely has to give you instructions on how to pose. You know what he likes, and you make sure to give him your all. He barely lasts the twenty minutes, every so often, you look down at his jeans, now tight and tenting. The sight of him hard gives you a feeling of gratification, you were so worried for nothing. “God, you are amazing (Y/N),” he mutters, as he clicks through the pictures he just took. 

He walks over to sit beside you, tilting the camera towards you to show you the pictures as well. “What are you going to do with them?” 

Peter looks down into your eyes once again, a teasing smile painting his face, “What do you think I’m going to do with them?”

“Hmm,” you tap your index finger against your chin, acting clueless, “I don’t know…Why don’t you show me?”

He already set his camera carefully on the floor before he responds, knowing exactly what is going to happen, “Show you, huh? I think I can do that.”

You giggle before he attacks you in a hug, pulling you down onto the mattress. 

--author's note: sorry guys i left you hanging for the smut LOL. send me some more smut requests, these are fun;) keep sending me requests!!!! my inbox is open!! keep supporting your writers by commenting, liking, and reblogging. ok, bye ily<333333

[indulgentdaydream]

Cooking Lessons

Jason Todd X Reader

My first x reader fic! Of course I had to go with jason. He’s the love of my life🥰 inspired by me not knowing how to properly cut a bell pepper yesterday and wishing somebody (cough cough, jason, cough) had been there to help me

(ps. for anyone who also doesn’t know how to cut a bell pepper!)

Not proof read!!

Warnings: use of feminine pet names (ex, princess) food mention, knife mention, knife use, one (1) use of profanity.

Jason walked into the kitchen, sweating from his workout. He found you standing at the counter, your back to him. You had a knife in hand, chopping something up. He opened the fridge to grab himself some water. He could smell the spices of whatever you were cooking in the pan to your left.

He walked up beside you. He placed a hand on the small of your back as he looked down. There was chicken cooking in the pan and you were cutting up a bell pepper, “What you cooking, princess?”

“Quesadillas,” You hummed, focused on your task at hand. There was a cooking book open off to your right, set on top of the microwave

Jason hummed in response, smiling, “Smells good.”

He continued to watch you chop. Your hand moved slowly. You set the pepper on it’s side before cutting it in half, straight through the centre. The seeds inside spread all over the knife. You began to awkwardly cut around the centre, further making a mess of getting the seeds everywhere. He grew a little concerned as he kept watching, “Baby?”

“Yeah?”

“Who taught you how to cut up a pepper?”

Your shoulders dropped a little, your hand stilling. You looked up at Jason with a defeated look, “Nobody…”

He chuckled. He leaned in and kissed the pout on your lips, “May I?”

You nodded. He set down his water before moving in behind you. He wrapped his arms around your waist, his arms under yours. He picked up another bell pepper, a dark green.

He placed it on the board, placing his hands over yours. His chin rested on your shoulder as he spoke, “First, you gotta cut off the stem.”

He guided your hands, enjoying the small giggle that escaped you at the sight of his large, calloused, scarred hands resting over your smaller ones, nearly engulfing them.

He spoke calmly and slowly, “Now, you flip it on it’s head, where the stem was. See the bumps? You cut down to chop those off.”

You hummed, “Like this?”

Jason nods, “Just like that.” He pulls his hands off yours, bringing them back to rest on your hips, letting you do it yourself.

“See?” He says when you finish, leaving the untouched centre, with all the seeds still intact, leftover, “This way, you can take the pieces you cut off, flatten them out, and they’re easier to cut,” He pauses, “Plus, you don’t make a mess of the seeds.”

He picks up the centre for you, tossing it into the small open compost bin sitting on the window sill of the kitchen. You shrug, picking up on of the pieces you had cut before, covered in the tiny white pellets that were the seeds, “I was just gonna wash it off with water.”

He lets out a low, thoughtful hum, “Waste o’ water.”

You mimic his hum and cast him a look over your shoulder, where he still rests his chin, “Not what you said last night when you dragged me into the shower with you.”

A grin pulls at Jason’s lips. He raises his eyebrows a little, amused, “That’s why we gotta counteract our water usage, princess.” He straightens, planting a kiss on your cheek, “It doesn’t help that your knife is a bit dull. I’ve got a sharpener in my duffle, though.”

You didn’t realize what he meant until he had already stepped out of the kitchen. You whipped around, “Jason Peter! You are not using the same thing you sharpen your blades with on my kitchen knives!”

He steps back in, holding his hands out, “It’s clean!”

You stared at him, “I do not believe you.”

She caught Jason’s smile before he nodded at the stove beside her, “Chicken’s burning.”

“Shit!”

[jungle-angel]

Our Nest (Bob Floyd x Reader)

Summary: You and Bob are preparing for your little one's arrival and already, shenanigans have ensued

Warnings: Pregnancy, parenthood, Auggie being a menace etc.

Tagging: @floydsmuse @attapullman @callmemana @withahappyrefrain @rhettabbotts @sebsxphia and the lovely @bradshawsbaby my darling, I leave this as a little gift for you 🥰🥰🥰🥰

It was one of those gloriously warm spring days in Montana when all the flowers were in bloom, the windows of the house open to let in the breeze and the birds singing. The lilacs and the crape myrtles that you and Bob had planted after your wedding several years before had fully bloomed already, releasing their heady scents and causing more than a few sneezing fits.

Bob hummed a little as he organized the bookshelf in the corner of the nursery, right next to the rocking chair. Already Meemaw and Papa had sent over an old box of books that had been his when he was a baby, each one carefully picked with all the love in the world and inscribed with his date of birth and a message from Meemaw and Papa.

"Whatcha got Bob?" you asked folding one of the little blue onesies to put in the laundry.

"All the books that were mine when I was a baby," he answered. "Got Baby's Good Morning Book, Baby's Bedtime Book, Baby's Story Book, the Christmas Stories, Child's Story Book, Child's Fairy Tale Book, Peter Rabbit and.......looks like Winnie The Pooh too."

You couldn't help but ooh and aah over the books and their illustrations. You wished you could have a few of them to hang on the walls.

"Hey!" chirped a little toddler voice. "Get out me swamp!!"

You and Bob laughed when you saw Auggie running to the door with the kitchen broom as soon as the doorbell rang, when who should enter but Jake Seresin himself, greeted by his godson wielding a broom.

"Bob! I think Shrek's at it again!" Jake announced. "He's chasing me out of his swamp!"

"You're the one who had to show him that movie," Bob informed him.

Jake rolled his eyes as Auggie laughed and hugged his leg, hanging on for dear life and giggling like crazy as Jake lifted one leg and then the other.

"How goes Mommas?" Jake said, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Good, save for the fact that my husband is right there watching you," you chuckled.

"Hey it's called being courteous, it's technically not flirting," Jake explained.

"Although Natasha might disagree."

Jake made a noise that caught in his throat, his hand moving quickly to protectively cup his denim clad scrotum.

"That's what we thought," Bob said with a shit eating grin.

Jake gathered up Auggie to go and cause havoc elsewhere for the day, leaving you and Bob to finish putting together the nursery. You unpacked all the baby clothes, blankets, shoes and other things your family and friends had sent you over the last few months including adorable little bunnies, puppies, bears, elephants and duckies for your little boy.

"Oh remember this?" you laughed, unfolding one of the blankets from the box.

"Oh, my Uncle Red's wife made that years ago," Bob cooed, holding up the little ducky quilt. "I used to sleep with it every night and Mom had to wrestle it away just to wash it."

You and Bob shared a few laughs as you kept organizing and putting everything together. Outside, you could see two mountain bluebirds in the nest they had made in the crape myrtle, wondering if there were any eggs due to hatch. Already the chicks had begun to hatch while there were more horse and cow births happening at least twice a week. The bunnies too had been hard at work, their numbers multiplying in the last few weeks as well.

"Oof," you breathed, feeling your baby kick. "Oh I know little guy, you're ready."

Bob helped you up from where you had been sitting, letting you lean against him as his hand rested gently on your belly. "Did he drop?" he asked.

You nodded.

Bob smiled broadly as he knelt to kiss your bump. "Now you wait a minute mister," Bob chuckled. "There's still some things we need to get ready for you."

You laughed as Bob pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. He wasn't wrong. Even though you were days away from giving birth, there were still so many things to do in such a tiny time frame.

The next few days were spent prepping the house and finishing the nursery. The laundry and the last of your knitting went smoothly although your cats would have said otherwise. Bluey and Echo, Bob's two blue-heelers, had taken to fetching the oddest things from the other rooms which led to an odd assortment of everything piling up in the living room. But you wouldn't have had it any other way.

At last, the day had come, a warm and calm night when you woke up suddenly after your water broke unexpectedly. Jake and Natasha came to take Auggie back to their place for a while, while your midwife came to the house to help. Bob stayed with you the whole time, just as he had done with Auggie, letting you squeeze his hand as you relaxed in the warm bath.

At long last, on June 1st, at 1:30 in the morning, your sweet little boy, Patrick Lewis Floyd, was born; sharing a birthday with Bob's father Joe. As soon as you were back in yours and Bob's shared bed, he snapped a few photos and sent them to his parents, siblings and the Daggers. It's not long before his phone is flooded with messages, all from the proud aunts, uncles and grandparents of your new little boy.

Joe and Irene, Bob's parents, are proud as ever of their grandson and of you both, more so now that Joe can joke about Patrick being his birthday present for that year. His Meemaw and Papa are all too proud to be great-grandparents again, all of them offering to come by and help with whatever is needed.

You and Bob wake later the next day at the sound of Patrick's fussing in the little bedside bassinet, Bob carefully lifting him into his arms and bringing him to the window to hear the birds singing. Patrick calms right down as soon as he's heard the birds sing and as soon as he's latched onto you to feed.

And when you and Bob are snuggled in your shared bed with Auggie coming in to see his new baby brother, you are both overjoyed and happy at the little nest you've built together.