#Tom holland imagine

[nouearth]

feel the rush.

tom holland x male reader.

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. rushing a fraternity is highly-competitive, and all-so overwhelming. if it was up to you, you wouldn't have participated in the first place. fortunately, tom was here to provide you all of the shortcuts in receiving a bid to the greek life, as long as you did a bang-up job.

𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓. one-shot [ 5.5k ].

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍���𝐍𝐆𝐒. male reader 〳 college!au 〳 frat!tom 〳brief alcoholic drinking 〳 closeted!reader 〳 reader is kinda religious coded 〳 sexual content: top!tom, bottom!reader, breeding, kissing, spitting, blowjob (r!giving), humiliation, dirty talk, muscle worship, scent!kink.

“You know you’re not exactly dressed for the occasion, right?”

The door closed behind Tom, sectioning you off from the party. The atmosphere of the event was tangible regardless. Strong beats throttled from wall to wall, tremors from a familiar song tickling your feet. Chants, albeit muffled, were resonant as you could only presume that someone executed a keg stand for the nth time of the night.

Chug, chug, chug, chug, and the crowd roared as if downing a keg of beer prevented Earth from being infiltrated by extraterrestrials. Granted, that was within the best scenario, in which alcohol and everything loud and deafening like university students wanting to fit in were highly toxic to those devious space invaders.

“What—how do you mean? Rushing is pretty formal, isn’t it? That’s what my mom tells me, anyway.”

You felt small from Tom’s comment, taking a peek at yourself in his mirror and shamefully finding nothing out of the ordinary with your white dress shirt, polka-dotted tie, and khaki pants. Though, you had to be honest. It wasn’t a fair assessment, considering you were judging under the purple hue of his dim lights. The compact size of his room certainly didn’t help either.

“Yes and no. Obviously, you don’t want to look like a slob. But you also don’t want to stand out too much. You’re not going to be a Greek if you wear Ralph Lauren from head to toe—that’s obnoxious. It looks like your mum dressed you for the Lord’s Supper or someone’s granddad, which is frankly the worst offender: don’t look like a square.”

“These are all I have—duly noted—so, it’s okay to dress… like you then? Won’t I blend in with everyone else?”

Tom wore a snapback, a blue polo, and white cargo shorts—which was brazen of him considering the amount of drinking and bile you had seen before the party had even began. It was simple to replicate. If it was your mother’s judgement, she would have all the men and women cover up their legs and arms, while embarrassingly leaving you as the prime example of what a gentleman should dress like.

But your mother wasn’t here, was she? Which meant, you could enjoy the holy sight of Tom’s biceps threatening to burst his shirt at the sleeve, his bulky chest at the placket—all for a little while longer before your intuition stepped in at the call of your mother, and forced those thoughts to scurry off.

That was ungentlemanly.

“That’s the point. You blend in, which means you put in the extra effort to get you noticed by the brothers—by us. Outfit aside, I reckon you’re off to a mighty start. Could be a pledge if you keep this up. I’m certainly noticing you,” Tom muttered after taking a sip of his beer, backing you with small, but imposing steps, until your ankles knocked against the footer of his bed, making you fall back. “Here, loosen up.”

He handed you his beer can.

“I don’t—“

“Just a sip to get in the mood. Not asking you to get blackout drunk here, Christ.”

“Sorry, mama.” You tipped the can into your mouth and instantly, the first taste of lager made you grimace, your face and body shriveling up like the bitter bubbles in the back of your throat. “That’s not… pleasant.”

“You get used to it.”

You were an easy target, weren’t you?

All you had to do was lurk around the party like a lost puppy, head and shoulders down as if the entire objecting of rushing was the complete opposite of being noticeable, and then Tom came around to your aid. He flashed that confident, gorgeous smile of his, immediately knowing you’d do anything to receive a bid from anyone at Alpha Kappa Psi, to be a pledge, without ever doing the hard-work of politely boasting about yourself to complete strangers.

Using your body was easier.

“You’ve done this before?” Tom took the can out of your hand and set it on his desk. He joined you at the foot of the bed after, his thigh touching yours. Then his hand on your knee, rubbing to simultaneously appease those nervous twiddling fingers of yours, and to warm you up.

“Yes—but don’t tell my mom, all right? She doesn’t know that I’m—Just… a couple of hook-ups back at home. Nothing much.” You nervously laughed to fill the silence, watching Tom’s hand warm your knee in gentle strokes that seem to ascend closer to your thigh with every cycle.

He stopped at your inner thigh. “I don’t plan on it unless you do a bad job. And/or your ass somehow rips my dick off and I need someone to take accountability for your actions.”

Your body straightened when Tom began kneading at your tender skin. “Not funny, I mean it.”

“Relax, I’m not telling your mom. It’ll be fun…” With one smooth motion, Tom turned his snapback around, the visor facing the back, and his mouth lowered to the shell of your ear. “And if I can be honest…? It turns me on knowing you’re hiding such a dirty secret from your poor mother.”

There was a shuffling, and then a firm grip on your nape that made your breath hitch. Before your instincts to pull away could react, Tom drew you in for a pressing kiss.

You breathed in, sucking the taste of liquor into your lungs, and trailed after the sweep of his lips. His nose smashed against yours, you could practically hear him inhaling you, and you barely got a sound out before your lips were pushed apart with Tom’s wet tongue. He tasted of familiar lager, yet certainly much more appetizing than drinking from the source itself as you pressed closer to him, welcoming him into your mouth with messy licks to the slithering muscle.

“Mm…”

Electricity shot up your spine when his tongue began properly mingling with yours. Sparks ricocheted off your cranium, then back down to your toes, where they flexed and brought the rest of your legs onto Tom’s bed. Heat flushed through your veins, the kiss all-consuming like Tom had needed your moans to survive. He drew you in closer, holding you close, exploring your mouth with his. You let out small whimpers and pressed into him, drowning yourself in his groans as your hand experimented with desperate tugs and kneads to his growing erection. He licked and nipped at your lips in revenge, countering your touch with a much more brazen hand down your khakis and briefs, toying with your bare chub in his palm.

“Had my eyes on you since you walked through that door,” Tom’s breath spilled over your neck, kissing at the stretch of skin in between the seconds of stripping your clothes off and his after. “You stuck out like a sore thumb. Have no idea why you thought you even had a chance, but then I thought about it for longer, watching you stick to the walls, observing everyone, drinking our punch. I knew you weren’t as innocent as you looked.”

You were lost in this sanity. Your lips were swollen and nearly numb from use, but it wasn’t a bad feeling. They tingled in all the right ways, sending signals to your exposed cock, throbbing out in the open air after many clumsy movements of shimmying yourself out of your pants and briefs.

You helped Tom with his clothes, fingers swiping across his muscular back when you pulled off his polo, palms brushing over his toned thighs when it came to undoing his shorts. Surprisingly, no briefs to remove after, which made you even harder, even when you were nearly assaulted in the face with the spring of his erection.

All of Tom was impressive, especially his hard, thick cock.

“Mom told me to make some friends—“

When Tom returned his grasp onto your nape and pushed your head toward his groin, you lost all semblance of self-control. He held you close enough to smell his cock, but far enough to deprive you the pleasure of having him in your mouth. He smelled salty, something of sweat that made your nostrils flare for more, so you pushed your head. You sniffed, lowering yourself until your nose was buried into his heavy balls, and inhaled your curiosities.

The aroma of Tom’s musk was familiar and unfamiliar all at the same time. It was intoxicating. The scent was strong and pure when you pressed in. It was here, a pungent assault to your nose when you took another indulgent breath of his sweaty balls, and your senses went haywire when Tom’s fingers dug into your nape, scraping sweet lines of fire across the nape of your neck, and pulled you over his leaking cock.

Your inability to control yourself was as much of an arousal for Tom, judging by how his cock was twitching with every breath you took to fight off the urge in gulping him down.

“Wow, you really are a momma’s boy, aren’t you? Bet you have her constantly in your mind, telling you what’s right from wrong, don’t you? Tell me, what’s she saying while you’re sucking me off?”

“I don’t know what—mmf!”

Just like that, your mouth was full of Tom’s smell, full of him, god. Your eyes snapped shut and you choked down a moan as you took his thick cock into your mouth at the help of Tom’s bruising grip. One hand braced on his toned and flexed thigh while the other was wrapped around his shaft, holding him steady in your mouth. Your lips wrapped snug around him, hallowing your cheeks and flattening your tongue over veins—multiple veins that were the source of his pre-cum leaking into your mouth like a broken faucet.

Salt spread on your tongue, wakening every taste bud to an early bloom as you squeezed and stroked him at the base, forcing out more drips of pre-cum onto your tongue.

“Fuck, your mouth’s so warm…” His eyes widened at the warm and wet embrace of your tongue slobbering over his cock, groaning at the obscene sounds of your saliva spit-shining his shaft as he was leaning on his elbows. “God, look at you.”

“I’m doing okay…?” You gasped after pulling his cock out of your mouth, spitting out the thick, droopy web of saliva that connected your lips to Tom’s shaft back over the plump, swollen glans. You looked up at him for approval, wide-eyed and dazed, recovering from the stretch Tom had provided your mouth seconds prior.

When you needed a breather, you licked at the underside of his cock, tending to the inches you couldn’t possibly fit inside of your mouth with multiple tantalizing strokes of your hand. You spread your spit thick over his hard flesh, massaging every spit bubble until his cock and balls were moisturized with the slick of your mouth.

“Better than I could imagine, honestly…” Tom marveled with a chuckle, exhaling slow and deep from his gut to seemingly keep himself from spilling too early from your unrelenting strokes. His toes wiggled in his socks, a tic you found yourself simpering about because it was rather the opposite of Tom’s imposing demeanor.

He pressed two fingers against his own tongue, slicking it up with spit, before shoving them into your mouth to get a second opinion on your cock-sucking skills. Tom hummed, his hand removed from your nape to hold your chin up while he watched you take his fingers, pumping them in and out of your tight, sucking lips.

He seemed pleased.

Somehow, it was more intimate sucking his fingers off. Tom was staring. He had always been, which made you nervous since he introduced himself to you. But he was staring, as if he could control your every move with a simple look, as if he was capable of communicating with you without uttering a word. His lips parted, his brow raised, and you quickly caught on to reflect upon his wishes, diligently opening your lips to welcome a third slicked up finger into your mouth.

Right then and there, you figured Tom had taken your brain cells hostage and forged them to work in his favor. Whatever he wanted, you were absolutely pleased to do without a single complaint peeping from your end.

He pulled out embarrassing sounds that would’ve gotten you stoned if your mother ever heard them from your room. His other hand worked on your leaking cock, massaging your testicles and palming the plump tip, because he can—because you let him.

You were Tom’s puppet, and your body was at his disposal.

“See? This is fun, right?”

He slid his fingers out of your mouth ever so-slowly, the dim light catching onto the trail of spit that bridged his fingers and your tongue with a magical glint. They eventually lost their sparkle when Tom was quick to bring his hand to your ass and wet your exposed rim with a finger, circling the flesh at an excruciatingly slow pace.

“M-mm…”

It was pathetic how deprived of touch you were.

Something as simple as a tease made you writhe on all fours. All it took was a lazy stroke of his finger for you to arch your back and draw your ass out. You couldn’t manage more than a moan as Tom guided you flat on your stomach and himself behind you, continuing his taunts after freshly lubing his fingers and throbbing cock.

Upon the next turn, Tom had the generosity of delivering you of a fill that had been making your cock leak into his sheets, that had been making you rock your hips like you were an animal in heat.

After pushing your legs apart, Tom slowly slid one finger inside of you, his mouth opening in rapport, but also in wonder, as your tight hole welcomed his thick digit in with such warmth, your body locking up as pleasure entered your body.

“C-Christ…” you hissed, thighs clenching and ass squeezing around the foreign intrusion. Something like panic, mixed with agonizing, desperate need, froze you in your place, yet you could feel your body melt, beads of sweat forming over the slope of your tense shoulders and back muscles. Every contact point of your body meeting his, from his firm hand kneading your plump ass, to the tender push and pull of his finger, scorched.

“I don’t know, (M/N)… I don’t know if you can take my cock. My finger can barely move. Might have to call it a night…”

The thudding of your heart muffled your ears as Tom pressed in another finger after slowly working you open. Upon instinct, you closed your legs, only for Tom to spread them back apart before your sweaty thighs could meet, keeping yourself exposed and bare under his direction.

You chewed on a whimper, your face pressing into a pillow in your arms while Tom’s two fingers curled and pumped deep inside of you. You felt yourself pulsate around him, the tight ring of muscle unrelenting in its grip around his fingers, but Tom was determined to break you, another digit joining the pair of fingers, demeaning the tightness of your hole with an obnoxious whistle while pushing into your resistance. “Damn, look at that hole… barely fitting in three fingers.”

“N-no, I can take it. Please…” you gasped on an onslaught of curls, fast and repetitive until you were stretched enough for Tom to yank his fingers completely out of you and quickly feel withdrawal symptoms of his fill. Your thighs shook, your ass pushed out for more, your hole twitched in rapport—you murmured a whine that you needed Tom to hear, but was too self-conscious to let it be known, so you settled biting into his pillow to resist your throat from spilling.

“Such a shame. I thought you made the perfect fit for A.K.P., too.”

His touch was soft and exploring, smearing the sweat on your back over the expanse of your ass and covering it in a humiliating sheen that you’d reckon Tom was stroking himself to upon picking up on the lewd, slick sounds of lube sliding over something thick behind you.

“S-stop, stop, please. I-I’ve taken it before, just—give me a chance, yeah? Please? Hear me—feel me out?”

“You’re that desperate, huh? Don’t know if you need the pledge more, or my cock…”

“Your cock… Tom, please—“

“So, you wouldn’t mind if you received nothing in return, as long as my cock was inside of you? Fucking you? Breeding you?”

“No, I just—“

No, no, no. I don’t want you to stop. Please don’t stop. Your ass communicated those pleas in desperate wiggles. A strong smack to your ass cheeks meant to halt you in place, but it only made your hips more fervent as you graciously backed into the thick of Tom’s cock, reaching back and giving him a needy pump or two, then slid him against your crack.

A needy moan escaped when you felt the weight of his cock sandwiched between your cheeks.

“So, you don’t want my cock? I’m confused on what exactly you’re telling me. Hurry, before I lose my patience.”

You felt a stickiness to your rim. Peeking over your shoulder, you took a glimpse of Tom presumably tracing your hole with his cock and spreading his pre-cum thick over the smooth flesh. The small space grew humid with the tension between your body and his, heavy breaths adding onto the heavy air as Tom rocked into you, holding you by the waist, gliding his cock through the wetness of your lubed ass cheeks. His shaft rubbed over your hole, and your cock throbbed and leaked in between your legs at the chance that anytime now—Tom could breach you open, and fill you wondrously. Your hole clenched at the thought, aided by Tom’s hands pressing your cheeks tighter around his cock as it slid over you.

If only you could command your asshole to open, because you would’ve taken him in by now.

“I want you inside of me, Tom. F-forget the pledge, I just—I need something, someone inside of me. Please, just—Christ, fuck me. Fuck me with your thick cock. Fuck your cum into me. Fuck my ass until I’m nothing but a gaping hole dripping with your seed. Don’t even care if we never see each other again, please, Tom—”

Your eagerness took Tom by surprise, making him chuckle and slap his cock over your blinking hole before resuming on sliding his shaft against your crack, hopefully for one last turn. “Who knew you had such a potty mouth?”

You don’t know what drew you back to looking at Tom again. Maybe it was the hard, brawn structure of his body, cut straight from a sculpture of the most heroic Greek warrior. The firm lines of his abdominal muscles, or the way his snapback was adjusted backwards, emphasizing his soft, yet handsome looks. All in all, you didn’t mean what you said.

You would absolutely care if you never saw him again.

He was too good.

His rough hands over your ass, smacking them whenever you would try to angle your hips in a way to fit him in, were too good. His delicate kisses on your neck, back, and shoulders, quelling the tremble of your limbs, were too good. His soft lips, when you and him met halfway until your mouths were exchanging breaths, making the effort of holding yourself still against him excruciating, were too good.

Tom’s lips ghosted over yours, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth. You groaned as he supported your core with a strong hand, opening your mouth to take more. Every part of you, even the moisture in your body, wanted to touch him. You were sweating, drooling into his mouth, leaking into Tom’s palm when he wandered down to stroke your cock; all strong indicators that you were losing control, if you hadn’t already.

His voice, as he murmured something about your body in your ear while he was gathering you against him, was too good. His breath forced itself between your lips, breathing out a supply of oxygen into your mouth, into your lungs, to prepare you for the inevitable, and you had never felt so fragile before—especially so, when you found yourself quickly using up Tom’s oxygen when he pushed his cock into you without hesitation, without warning, your body hammered by a thousand needles in the process.

“T-Tom!” you hissed in a breath, but it only made the grip on your hips more strident when his thrust made you collapse back onto all fours. It wouldn’t be surprising if your skin was blemished with bruises the very next day with the way his fingers dug into your flesh.

Tom was generous enough to let you adjust to his size, indulging in the warmth and tightness of your entrance with only the tip of his plump cock despite feeling like he had toppled your backside with all of his body weight. Even then, those minuscule ruts were enough to make you whimper out of agony.

“So fucking tight…”

Tom pulled himself out and spread your ass cheeks apart, marveling and silently wondering to himself how he was going to puzzle himself inside of you. Some spit would surely help. He licked his fingers, then pressed it over your swollen hole, smoothing the skin before pushing the tip back in, having only a tenuous grasp on his self-control.

After the burning mellowed with the help of multiple deep exhales and kisses from Tom, you felt yourself finally unravel the moment he moved his hips. Your fingers raked against his abs as you reached back to pace his hips, palm on his pelvis to keep from completely ruining you. A shiver ran down the length of your spine as Tom smoothed a hand over your back, then kept it at the lower half, pushing deeper into you while he held you still. You made a sound, somewhere between a gasp and a whimper, pleasured yet disoriented by the ample stretch Tom was providing you with. It gutted the fog of arousal, you could feel your hole instinctively pushing his cock out with overwhelmed pulses, but Tom was persistent, driving into you deeper— harder—the moment your body tried to resist him.

“Don’t mind it hard, right?” Tom asked against your ear, gruff in between his slow, yet deep strokes.

“Please,” you whimpered, barely getting the word out before Tom’s hand found its way to your mouth, covering it and holding your head back at the millisecond your answer registered in his brain, giving him the green light to pummel you relentlessly.

Your eyes popped open when Tom soared, bucking his hips wildly into you. Cries of pleasure, your whimpers and moans of being hammered with such overwhelming desire for your body, were muffled into the palm of Tom’s hand. He squeezed your cheeks, loud groans leaving your throat, and your torso arched into the mattress.

The brutal stretch was what you’d been needing. All this pent up sex drive that you had been harboring for so long came exploding out of you like molten lava, scorching your torso and all in effect. Your body was on fire, coupling with Tom’s as sweat dripped from his forehead, and somewhere onto your backside. Your mind emptied out while you hovered in the space between deprived arousal and complete ecstasy, only perfected by Tom’s cockhead screwing into your tight, clamping hole.

“Open,” Tom demanded with a huff, and you did as you were told at the prodding of his fingers. You welcomed him in with the parting of your lips, luring each digit with the curl of your wet tongue. “You like that? You like taking my hard cock like this? Fucking you open until you’re nothing but a hole? God, look at you drooling…”

As Tom pumped inside of you at a steady pace, angling his hips so he stretched you wider, you suckled on his fingers as they remained hooked over your mouth—you were starting to guess that he loved having them sucked, or at least, liked playing with the idea of having himself inside of you in more ways than one.

It was a messy affair. Pools of saliva leaked from either corners of your mouth. The smell of sex was thickening in between the heavy pants that you and Tom would collectively exile. It wouldn’t be long until your body was drenched in sweat, and you’d come to realize that you wouldn’t be alone in that department. Tom had his sweaty arm around your throat, pushing all of his body weight onto you and gutting you open with the deep hammering of his thrusts. His chest rumbled with wild growls as he pounded into you from behind, burying your hole to the root of his shaft, fucking you with the salacious sound of his heavy and musky sack slapping against your sweat-stained taint. You whimpered when his cockhead brushed past that sweet spot of yours, an unfamiliar feeling that you had no doubts in wanting to befriend.

“O-oh, that’s s-so g-good—“ You bit into his forearms, the thick vein pulsing through looking appetizing, and you were glad you did it because—it was like an ‘on’ switch for Tom.

“Taking my cock so well—your mom would be disgusted, wouldn’t she? Knowing her baby boy is taking a man’s cock. Want you to remember this. I don’t care how many cocks you had before me. I want you to remember what my cock feels like, digging deep inside of you. And when I’m done with you, I don’t want you coming home, crying to mommy—because I’ll never be done with you. Once you get your bid, you’re fucking mine.”

This was it.

This was Tom at his peak performance.

And your body was at his mercy.

He pulled out, flipped you over, then hooked your legs over his shoulders before resuming in his relentless rapture.

You stroked yourself to the image before you, a tight fist around your aching cock, squeezing from base to tip, spreading your pre-cum down your already sticky length, while your other hand toyed with your nipples, playing with the perky nubs.

Tom’s muscular body dripped in sweat. His teeth gritted as he struggled to control his volume. Glimpses of the base of his cock would appear when he would pull out, only to be hidden by the trimmed hairs of his pubic hair when he would shove himself back in, veins of his large cock throbbing and basking in your warmth. Hard and strong kisses layered your ankles while Tom’s pecs jiggled with every thrust he made. Even if you weren’t being fucked right now, you could get off to this. You could come right now, to the absolute bliss on Tom’s face as he buried himself deep inside of you, impaling you with his cock, moulding your hole to the shape of his shaft.

It enthralled you knowing how much pleasure your body gave Tom.

The squeaking of the bed roped everything together, gathering all sorts of noises—lewd sounds of sex and delirious desire—like a beautiful symphony. Your moans against his were the choir when Tom came down to kiss you hard on the mouth, sloppy and wet as he explored you open both ways. His tongue curious into your mouth and his thick cock rearranging your guts.

Your hands freely roamed over the expanse of his broad back, clutching and scratching at his back muscles when he curled his hips in a way that made you arch your body off the bed and knocked the breath out of you. God, he was so strong. So buff. You could feel his back muscles move in sync with his hips, flexing and flaring as he sank his cock deep into you. Your body stuttered, your eyes shut tight, tears nearly welling from the utter pleasure, shriveling as Tom would batter your prostate with better precision every time his hips came down on you. You couldn't be bothered to find the proper words to tell Tom how good he was making you feel, so you settled for a mixture of gasps, whimpers, and a daring scratch over the length of his spine.

That was telling enough, right?

Tom growled at the sting overloading his senses when you made your marks, grazing his teeth and lips over the palm of your hand when he reached back to take and hold the culprit of the forming welts before him. You and him shared a gaze, a kiss when he lowered himself and briefly settled on imposing you with strong, but slow and deep thrusts. To catch his breath. To catch yours. You both exchanged breaths, swapped saliva, explored each other's mouths, held each other hands, and the intimacy of it all made it all the more tranquilizing for you.

“Gonna breed that ass of yours. Fuck, it’s perfect for me. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Have your hole dripping, gaping, and raw? Maybe I’ll get the bros to look at the mess you made. Maybe they’ll want in on it and have a turn at your body, too. It could be your initiation, hm? Could skip the entire process, and be a Greek, as long as you let all of us breed you. How does that sound?”

“Holy, s-shit—“

You pumped your cock, a familiar feeling quickly bubbling to a high from the pit of your stomach, all the way to your swollen nipples, and you knew what awaited you as that sensation wouldn’t falter. Your heart beat ran faster than the effort of caffeine. Even though it was muffled, the rhythmic beats downstairs were still resonant, and you were absolutely outpacing its tempo. The heat of Tom’s hands returned on your body. He caressed and rubbed your hips, thighs, chest, balls, and ass, all while he urged you to come.

“There we go. Good boy. Keep fucking that fist. Yeah, fuck—“

His palms smoothed over your skin, up the sides of your body, thumbs pressing into either sides of your hips, then maneuvered you with his strength to meet him half-way into his strong thrusts. His biceps flexed, thick veins demonstrating his rush of adrenaline and sheer strength as he brought you down onto his cock with thundering claps, sweaty skin contacting sweaty skin, constantly assaulting your prostate with his swollen cockhead.

It both frightened and thrilled you, your eyes blown, and you felt yourself quickly spill, thick and heavy over your stomach, knowing you were at Tom’s disposal. You shuddered, watching the thick ropes of cum fly high before splattering and soon pooling at the plane of your body.

“I’m close—“

“Come inside of me, please–“

You were panting as your cock finished spilling itself all over your stomach and chest, as Tom’s big cock pounded in and out of you with such ease now, the weight of his hips coming down on you making you continuously bounce on the mattress.

“Fuck.”

His breathing was even heavier than yours, laced with grunts as he used your ass like a toy, pulling hard and pushing you as he pleased, breaching you with the thick of his cock. His thrusts become wilder, sweat dampening his snapback as Tom mustered up the rest of his strength and energy to completely overpower you. His swollen cock dug deep, you could feel every veins about to burst. With a choke of your name, he delivered one more grandiose rut against your ass, the impact of his hips biting sharp into the back of your thighs, and filled you with his cum, burying you to the root.

“Holy shit…”

“O-oh, god—“

Warmth spread thick inside of you, and you writhed and groaned as your hole swallowed another fat fill. Tom’s body goes slack, crashing into your arms immediately, and he moaned on each slow thrust, creaming you from the inside and out. You strained toward him in desperation, wrapping your legs around his hips to lock him in place, and reaching over to his ass to push him deeper, to urge him to keep breeding you as your hole held Tom’s sensitive cock with gratitude, taking his thick seed without hesitation, until his cock veins stopped pulsating.

As promised, Tom kept you impaled, rocking his hips and kissing you once more, soft and passionate, something of him owing you one laced in the way he smooched your lips and refused to let you reciprocate—because Tom never came like that before. His hand was tender on your cheek, stroking the dried stain of drool that was left abandoned when he pulled away to look at you, properly this time. You sighed, brushing the snapback off his head to let his scalp breathe, and pulled him in at the introduction of a sudden draft, your legs still anchored by his hips.

You lay intertwined, sharing deep kisses in between moments of recovery, where the post-nut clarity rendered you and Tom into fit of collective shy laughter, incredulous to the affair both of you had just engaged in.

“So, you live on campus?”

“Oh—yeah. East side, near Turing…”

“Figured you’d be a science guy. Anyways, I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning. Give me your phone.”

“Pick me up? For what?”

“Christ. Did I fuck the memory out of you or something? Bid day’s tomorrow. It gets hectic, so I think it’ll be better if you stick with me.”

“Won’t that… be suspicious?”

“Nah. Plus, I figured we’d get an early start on your initiation…”

“You mean—“

“Fuck, yeah.”

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

[im-sleepdeprived]

do u think u can do a Peter Parker x reader where reader is gone for a while and has her phone off, and Peter gets super scared only to find out she’s alright?? I love ur work u’re the best xx

'No location found'

pairing: peter parker x reader

a/n: thank you for the request !!!! i had this written, then I decided to rewrite it lmao. I pictured college pete but Im not sure if I specified, also not sure if anyone saw my post abt writing a fic inspired by ‘peter’ by taylor swift but i think im going to start working on that and that its gonna be a mini series👀.... so stay tuned and request something in the meantime !!

warnings: none

masterlist, requests are open !!

“That’s not what I said!”

“Oh? Well, that’s what I heard.”

You two had been going at it for a while now. Peter had missed yet another date you’d both planned. It’d been a while since you both spent time together, and you thought he was finally going to change that. Until he just stood you up again. 

You’d thought after moving in together, you’d see him all the time. The opposite was true. He was always out, either on patrol, at Stark Tower, or wherever else his Superhero duties took him.  The problem was, that place never seemed to be with you.

“Y/N please-”

“No, Peter! I’m sick of it! I try to be understanding, I really do, I try to give you grace, but every time I do it’s like you just make it worse.” You sighed and ran a hand through your hair, “Honestly at this point, it feels like you don’t even care anymore.”

His face fell. “Come on baby. You can't seriously think that! It was just a mistake, I won't do it again.”

You nodded, “Right. Think I’ve heard that one before.” You turned around and walked towards your shared bedroom.

“Woah, hey. Wait a minute, where’re you going?” His voice was hurt, and you almost felt bad for turning your back.

Shaking your head and looked down at your dress. You’d gotten all dressed up, expecting a nice dinner followed by a walk in the park. You said, “I’m tired, I’m gonna change and get ready for bed. Sorry, but hey, at least now your schedule is freed up,” you gave him a weak smile, “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Y/N you know it’s not like that. Look you’re all dressed up,” he reached for your arm, “we can still go out. Please, let me make it up to you”

Looking into his eyes, it took everything in you to pull away. 

“Peter,” you whispered, voice so quiet, yet so full of emotion. 

“I don’t want us to fight,” he begged. 

'We’re not fighting, not anymore. I just want to be alone.”

“Okay.” He nodded, but still kept his hand on you, reluctant to let go. “I’ll sleep on the couch?”

You nodded, not trusting your voice right now.

He deflated. He wasn’t exactly expecting you to object, but still. It hurt that you wanted to be away from him so bad. 

“Good night,” he muttered, watching you walk towards the door with sullen eyes. “I’m right here if you need anything.”

You gave him the tiniest tip of your head, not even bothering to turn around, “Night.”

There was no way he was getting any sleep tonight.

You slept in that day. It was Saturday and you didn’t feel like doing anything. Even after you woke up, you stayed in bed scrolling on your phone, heart pounding a little harder when you saw messages from Peter pop up, before effectively sliding them away.

After a few hours of doomscrolling, you stepped out of the room. You could see a throw blanket neatly folded on the couch, you have no idea if he’d even used a pillow. Your heart thrummed with guilt and you decided that tonight he was definitely sleeping on the bed. Or at the very least, you’d sleep on the couch. 

Walking into the kitchen, you noticed a tray with a note sitting atop a covered plate. When you got closer, you saw that the note held a cheesy breakfast pun. So Peter.

I love you a waffle lot! With a bunch of hearts around it. You couldn’t help it, you cracked a smile. He was such a dork. And you loved it. 

You heated up your breakfast and had gotten well into eating when your phone started ringing. Was it Peter? You didn’t really want to speak to him, not yet at least. You’d kind of hoped you wouldn’t have to until tonight-

You picked up your phone and almost let out a sigh of relief when you realized it was just one of your friends, Maddie. Then you felt bad for feeling relieved. 

You answered the phone. “Hey Mads, how's it going.” 

“Hi Y/N! Good! I was just calling to see if you wanted to go out tonight? Listen, before you say no-”

“No that sounds great actually,” you cut her off quickly, eager for an excuse to get out of the house. You’d been canceling plans for way too long in hopes of spending even a moment with Peter, and it seemed as if even your friends had noticed. But no more.

“Really? Great! So there's this raging new club,” she went on, giving you all the details of who was going and who might be there and you listened but barely felt a hint of excitement. You weren’t sure if it was because it was a frat party, and those things rarely appealed to you, or if it was lingering feelings from your argument with Peter. Which reminded you why you’d wanted to go out in the first place. 

“We’re gonna pregame at my place though, so stop by here and I’ll take you!” She finished, making you smile. Maddie was always sweet, a little more wild than you, but that’s what made you like her. 

“Sure Maddie, thanks for the invite.”

“Of course, can’t wait to see you, I feel like it's been forever since we went out together.”

You let out a small laugh, “I know what you mean. But we’re gonna change that tonight. 

You said your goodbyes and hung up. You needed to start getting ready soon, despite you just eating breakfast, you’d stayed in all morning and it was pretty late already. 

You got ready quietly, only a playlist you’d turned on droning in the background as you did your hair and makeup. You walked over to the closet to pick out an outfit and felt a little sad. Usually, Peter was here during this part, helping you pick out something, annoying you when he said you looked beautiful in everything. 

“Peter! I need real criticism!”

“Well, I can’t help it if my girl looks stunning in everything!”

You picked out a nice outfit you deemed fit for clubbing before grabbing a pair of heels and stepping out of your room. Looking around at the empty apartment you realized you should probably let Peter know you weren’t going to be home tonight. You didn’t feel like calling him though, and if you didn’t want to open his messages from earlier either so you decided to take a page out of his book. 

Grabbing a sticky note, you wrote down the briefest of explanations, before sticking it on your fridge and leaving. 

He had sent texts saying Good morning!, Do you need anything?, and another explaining he’d be out for a while but he’d made you breakfast, all in hopes of you responding to him. You didn’t, but that wasn’t too shocking to him. It didn’t make it hurt any less though. 

He knew he fucked up. He knew he’d disappointed you again, let you down again. He knew he deserved this and more. He should be grateful you weren’t giving him the more. And he was! But he couldn’t help the small selfish part of him that just wished you would let him take you out tonight, or give him something else he could do to make up for it because there was nothing he hated more in the world than when you were mad at him. And he did not want to sleep on the couch again. Sure it was uncomfortable but that was the least of his worries. He hated not sleeping next to you.

That had been his favorite part about the two of you moving into your own place, that he got to hold you every night. After a rough night of patrolling, or working too long on his studies, or a new gadget, he got to go home and hold you, get lost in your touch, and that always made everything better. And it killed him to know you were just down the hall, and he wasn’t with you. 

He tried his best to rush everything, trying to get all his work done for the day so he could spend the whole night with you. He was planning a movie night, bingeing all your favorites. He was gonna give you a proper date, soon, but right now, all that mattered was you two spending time together. 

On his way home, he stopped at a corner store to grab snacks for the two of you, making sure to get all your favorite ones. He even stopped at a flower shop not far from your apartment to grab you a bouquet and his heart fell when he realized how long it’d been since he’d done this. He definitely deserved the more. 

He knocked on the door of your apartment a few times and his heart fell as he realized you were either dead set on ignoring him, or you weren’t home. When he pulled out his keys and let himself in, he realized it was the latter. 

Sighing, he set down the bags of snacks and placed the bouquet down as he ran a hand through his hair as he walked around. He entered the kitchen and felt a little better when he saw the dishes he’d used to plate your breakfast were washed and on the drying rack, meaning you’d eaten. 

He was about to pull out his phone to see if he’d missed a text from you when he saw something on the fridge. 

“Went out. Be home late.”

His brows furrowed as he read. He didn’t know you had plans. Hell, he didn’t even know if you had plans now, your note barely explained anything.

All he could do was wait until you came home to sort everything out.

Peter could handle the silent treatment (barely), but what he couldn't handle, was not knowing if you were safe or not. No. That wouldn’t fly. 

He’d sent you a text when he got home, letting you know he got your note and to have fun and be safe. 

An hour later, he sent another text. Just as a little check-in. Still no response. 

It had been about three hours since he’d gotten back when he noticed that his messages had lost the little mark that indicated they were delivered. Weird. 

He tried to call you, he’d refrained from doing so before because he thought he should let you have your space (which was why, he assumed, you’d left in the first place) but it didn’t even ring, he just got sent straight to voicemail. 

What made him really start to panic, however, was when he went to check your location, which he felt so stupid for not doing before, and it wouldn’t load. It kept saying ‘no location found’ making his heart beat harder.

This was worse. You were ignoring him, his messages and calls weren’t going through. Something was wrong, was your phone off? Were you mugged? Or even worse-

He stopped himself before he could spiral too hard. That wouldn’t help, right now, he needed to figure out where you were and if you were okay.  He knew you weren’t the kind of person who would go out to bars or parties alone. Maybe you went out with a friend? Or maybe you were at a friend's? It was a place to start. 

He started calling your friends, people he knew you might go out with, and on the fifth call he finally got answers. Or…something like that. 

“Hello?” Maddie yelled into the phone, making Peter pull his phone away. 

“Hey Maddie, it’s Peter.”

“Oh yeah, Y/N’s dude,” she slurred. 

“Yeah, yeah, Y/N’s dude. Hey listen, is she with you? She went out tonight but she forgot to tell me where, and now my messages aren’t sending.” His pulse was racing. It sounded like Maddie was out, if the blaring music in the background was anything to go off of, and he was desperate to know you were okay. 

“Sorry Patrick, what’d you say,” she asked making Peter’s brows furrow. They weren’t exactly friends, but he’d met Maddie a few times. Enough times for her to know his name was not Patrick.

He shook his head, that didn’t matter right now. “Y/N. Is she with you, do you go out together?”

“Oh!” She exclaimed as if she’d just remembered something. “Yeah, she is!”

Peter let out a sigh of relief. 

“Or, she was.” He held his breath again. 

“What do you mean ‘she was’? Where is she?”

“I dunno, she left I think.” Maddie let out a little hum as if to say ‘too bad!’ and Peter was sure she must be extremely intoxicated, otherwise there was no way she could be so casual about something like this. He could barely keep himself together.

He ran a hand over his face as he tried not to raise his voice. This was getting frustrating. “She left? Where’d she go? Where are you right now?”

“I don’t know…she was bored I think. She was off today. S’shame, she looked so hot.”

His heart clenched when he realized the reason you were off, was because of him. You didn’t have fun, so you left, now he had no idea where you were and it was all his fault. 

“Where are you, Maddie?” He repeated. 

“That new club on 27th! Get down here Paul, it's so much fun!” She gushed and Peter rolled his eyes. He didn’t have time for this. 

He hung up quickly, not bothering to say goodbye before he got up to put his suit on. He couldn't stand the thought of something happening to you because you were upset and distracted because of him. That you weren't even speaking to him.

There was no way he was going to let anything happen to you. 

You were walking outside, up and down the sidewalk. You knew it wasn’t the safest decision but you didn’t really care. The club was stuffy, humid, and way too loud. You just needed to breathe, and then you’d go back. Maybe. 

You considered hailing a cab and going back home right now. You’d send Maddie a text, but she probably hadn’t noticed you’d left in the first. She’d been having a blast, unlike you, drinking shots and dancing with every guy she felt like. You weren’t sure she remembered you stopping her to tell her you’d be gone for a bit. 

On second thought, you were kind of hungry. You hadn’t eaten anything other than Peter’s waffles for you that morning and there was an amazing smell floating from a food cart at the end of the block. You could help yourself to something before going home. 

Before you could reach the food cart, you were flying. Or rather, swinging. You knew who it was right away. 

Just as fast as he’d snatched you up, Peter put you down on an isolated rooftop, leaving just you and him high above everyone else.

You were about to reprimand him, about to demand an answer as to why he’d just done that, but there wasn’t a chance before he was pulling you into a bone-crushing hug.

“Pete?” Your voice was soft, you sensed there was something wrong and suddenly any anger or annoyance you held, from now or the night before, disappeared.

“You’re okay,” he mumbled as if that was his way of an answer. 

Your brows furrowed. “Well…yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

He pulled away then, taking off his mask, and you saw just how terrified he looked, scaring you as well. There might’ve even been a little red rimming his eyes, making you wonder if he was holding back tears. “I came home and I brought snacks and flowers and I thought we could spend the rest of the night together but saw your note. So I texted you and I get that you’re mad at me-”

“I’m not,” you said, and you meant it. You weren’t mad at him, especially right now, seeing him all shaken up like this. “But what's wrong?”

“My texts weren’t delivering, my calls went straight to voicemail, and I couldn’t track your location. Y/N, I got so scared something happened and you weren’t talking to me.” He sniffled and your heart broke a little. 

You reached into your bag and pulled out your phone, but when you tried to turn it on—dead. 

“God sweetheart, never do that to me again. Please.” He looked at you desperately, “Yell at me. Fight with me. But please never ignore me anymore, I can’t stand it.”

“I’m so sorry Petey, I had no idea my phone died. I would’ve said something I swear. I never want you to worry like that.” Your hands went up to hold his face. 

He brought a hand to hold your wrist. Gently running his thumb up and down your hand he said, “I always worry about you sweetheart, it’s my job.”

You shook your head, “You worry about all of New York, I don’t need to add on to that.”

“No,” he said quickly, looking offended you’d even say that, “No. Never think like that. You are the most important thing in my life, okay? You’re my first priority and I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, that I don’t show that or say it enough.

“But I’m going to do better, I promise. I’m going to make it up to you because I can’t lose you, I need you Y/N.”

You didn’t reply, instead just smashed your lips onto his. His hands slid down to your waist, holding you tight. It was a kiss of forgiveness, of second chances, and new beginnings.

He pulled away first, but not before pressing multiple kisses all around your face. “Heels off baby,” he said as he knelt down and started working on your heel straps, lifting each foot onto his thigh before undoing each one. You didn’t even realize how much they’d been hurting until they were off. “I’m swinging you.” He picked you up swiftly, one arm wrapping itself around your ribs.

You groaned, wrapping your arms around his neck, “Peteyyyy. You know the wind tangles my hair too much.”

“Don’t worry,” he said, leaning over to kiss you on the top of your head, “I’ll be careful, c’mon.”

You move your head to peck his cheek and then hug him tight, “I love you.”

He grinned, pulling you in closer. “I love you more sweetheart.” He leaned back and pressed a quick kiss to your lips. “Hold on tight, Spider Monkey.”

You burst into laughter, “You did not just say that!” 

“Oh I totally did,” he gave you the goofiest smile, making you laugh again. 

“Ok, just…don’t let me go,” you said as you wrapped your arms tighter around him. 

“Never,” he replied, and something in his voice told you he wasn’t just talking about swinging. 

[ptergwen]

hiii

so this might me dirty but hear me out

It has gotten to me that mans come can meddle w the woman’s dna

so with this as an inspiration, and I know it’s kinda cliche but

stark!reader suddenly having spider senses or smh (not pregnancy)

oh and it’s for Tom Holland spider man

have an amazing dayy

a parker thing

ask box  |  taglist  |  blurb masterlist  |  main masterlist

w/c: 2,364

warnings: smut (p in v unprotected, lowkey dom!peter and reader), swearing

a/n: jump scare if you didn't see my post lmao i'm back y'all! i missed u guys and missed writing lots so i’ll be here from time to time again :) i had so much fun with this req thank you for the idea! much love to u all <3

you catch yourself dozing off and jerk your head up instinctively. one short, loud snore passes your lips as you do so, eyes opening wide. you blink your tired eyes a few times as you readjust to the harsh lighting.

ugh, you fell asleep in the lab, something you always chastise peter and your dad for doing. they're notorious for their long hours spent messing around with stark tech. you've lost count of how many times you've woken up to an empty spot in bed where your boyfriend should be, instead finding him fast asleep surrounded by cups of coffee and a delirious tony still on the grind.

tonight, you're the stark who's in the lab past their bedtime. you had the day to yourself and decided to use your free time to upgrade your suit. it had had a few hiccups during the team's last mission, so you wanted to work on it before the next one. what was supposed to be a few minor tweaks turned into a whole day of tweaking.

you scoff at yourself and wipe some drool that crusted onto your chin. oddly enough, you almost instantly refocus on the screen in front of you. it's been like this for most of the day. you're way more concentrated than usual for some reason, more aware. you figure it's because peter has been out on patrol and couldn't distract you.

"are you finished for the night, boss? you aren't usually here this late."

"i know, but i’m gonna stay a little longer. i’ll be done soon...i think."

friday dims the lights directly overhead so they aren't as harsh. you smile.

"thanks, fri."

you sit up in your seat, scooting in closer to the screen displaying your suit. you carefully look over the prototype and pick up a pen to write yourself some notes. when you go to put down the pen, it sticks to your palm. you shake your hand to try to get it off. it stays stuck.

"huh."

you use your other hand to pry the pen off of you.

"weird."

first you have heightened senses, now you're sticky. if you didn't have ordinary stark dna, you'd think you were part arachnid like peter.

you're not sure why, but you suddenly stand up and turn towards the main doors to the lab. they slide open a few seconds later. peter walks inside, spider suit on and mask off. he pads over to you with a soft smile.

"there you are. friday said i could find you down here."

peter pecks your lips and envelopes you in a hug. you sign contentedly, face nuzzled into his neck and arms winding around him.

"yeah, she's probably sick of me. i've been down here all day."

"you're really locked in, huh? how's the suit coming along?"

peter's fingers rub up and down your back ever so lightly. just the small touch practically sends shivers down your spine.

"good. fixed everything and double checked, then triple checked. started adding some new stuff, too."

"new features? like what?"

"you know the one i was telling you about..."

you trail off as peter's hands slide down to your ass. he pulls you in closer to himself, letting his hands rest there. you peek up at him, heart speeding up.

"go on, i’m listening."

peter gives your ass a gentle squeeze. it's an innocent gesture, really, but your senses are going crazy right now and you can't help but to get turned on. you always tease peter about how easily he's turned on. if this is what it feels like for him, now you understand.

"hm, i'm bored of talking about the suit. tell me about patrol."

"it was good! got a lot of action today. i mean, i guess that's not good 'cause that means there's more crime and stuff, but y'know. anyway..."

you stare at peter's lips, but don't listen to a word he's saying. it's the first time today you can't focus. he's pressed right up against you in his damned tight spider suit, and his hands are still on your ass, and you're so hypersensitive and hyper aware. all you can think about is how bad you need him.

"y/n? you okay?"

peter must have noticed you spacing out.

your gaze flicks between his eyes and lips before your own lips wordlessly capture his in a searing kiss. peter lets out a breathy chuckle, caught a bit off guard by your abruptness. he deepens the kiss for a moment, then pulls back with a look of amusement. you bite back a cheeky smile.

"horny."

peter's features form a smirk.

"i got you, baby."

he kisses you again. his tongue tangles with yours, a sigh passing your lips. peter lifts you up, grip becoming firmer on your ass. you wrap your legs around his waist. he kisses down your neck until he finds a spot he wants to mark. you tilt your head to the side so he has more access. peter's lips suck roughly on your skin, teeth nipping at it playfully. you let out a shaky breath.

peter presses one last kiss to what's sure to become a hickey to soothe it. you tilt his chin up towards you again, lips smashing into his, holding him in place by the back of his head. he carries you to the nearest table while your intertwined lips move desperately against each other's. you sneak a hand down to the bulge in his suit, earning a groan.

"one sec, lemme get this off."

peter sets you down on the table and quickly strips off his spider suit. you take your own clothes off and toss them aside, left only in your bra and panties. peter comes to stand between your legs. he slips your panties to the side, middle finger collecting your wetness as he kisses you again. his finger slides into you with ease and begins to pump. you moan into the kiss, tugging at his hair.

"already so wet, baby. don't even have to get you warmed up."

peter's finger curls inside you, cockiness evident in his tone and on his features. you tug on some hair at the nape of his neck.

"stop teasing, parker."

"can't take it when the roles are reversed, stark?"

something takes over you in that moment, the same something that's been coursing through your veins all day. you grab both of peter's hands and hold them in place above his head. your grip is tight around his wrists, too tight for him to break free of it. a noise almost like a growl escapes you.

"shut up and fuck me, or i’ll fuck you."

peter meets your wild eyes, his pupils equally as dilated.

"do it."

you promptly pull peter up to the table with you. you push him back so he lies down, pinning his arms down at his sides. his chest rises and falls, breathless.

"woah, what's gotten into you today? not that i’m complaining, but, woah."

"i know, right? i thought you were supposed to have super strength."

peter grabs you by your hips and sits up, seating you in his lap. you wiggle your hips in his grasp, but he digs his fingers into your sides so you can't move. peter's voice drops low.

"what was that?"

you breathe out a low laugh.

"nothing."

you dip your head down to press your forehead to peter's. he smiles, satisfied with your answer. you wrap your hand around his hard cock and stroke him. peter's lips ghost over yours, his breathing heavy.

"wanna feel you, y/n/n."

peter slides his hands up to your waist so you can move again. you smile knowingly. you slip off your panties before you reposition yourself, your legs on either side of him. you line up peter's cock with your entrance.

"wanna feel you too, pete."

you lower yourself down onto peter. you both let out little sighs and moans as he fills you up.

he always feels so good inside you, but this time is even better, even more intense.

you arch your back to find the right angle, shifting backwards a bit. once you're both comfortable, you begin to roll your hips. peter exhales a breath he was holding, lifting his hips up to help you out. your movements are slow, fluid. peter supports you by the small of your back, eyes hooded and lips parted for air.

"fuck, i'm not gonna last long."

"me neither."

he kisses you, softly but with so much passion. you let your eyes flutter closed and kiss back. you place your feet flat on the table for more stability and straighten your back, starting to bounce on his cock.

"y/n..."

peter's voice comes out almost like a whine. you chuckle at that.

"i know."

you grab onto peter's shoulders for more support as you move, up and down, back and forth. peter leaves sloppy kisses along the side of your neck. the once quiet lab is now filled with both of your moans and the sounds of your wetness every time his cock thrusts into you. you're both so close, and you can hardly hold out any longer.

peter grabs your hips to stop your movements. he takes over, thrusting up into you at the same delicious pace, only he's the one in control. you let out a series of short, high pitched moans, head thrown back as peter's cock hits the right spot in you over and over again.

"that's it, y/n/n. sound so pretty, baby."

peter half speaks and half groans. you reply with your own noise of content, squeezing yourself around his cock as you reach your high. peter is close to his.

"god, fuck."

he's panting. his thrusts speed up a bit until his hips stop moving altogether. he pushes deeper into you with one final moan, his cum filling you up, making you feel warm inside. you both recently agreed he could finish in you; it's a new level of intimacy.

"fuck, baby. woah."

you bury your face in peter's neck in response. you try to catch your breath, falling forward into his arms.

"oh my god, pete. that was..."

"yeah."

peter hugs your waist. he slowly pulls out of you, making you wince at the new emptiness.

"sorry."

he peppers tender kisses to the side of your head. you remove your face from his neck.

"it's okay."

you ruffle peter's hair with a tired smile. he kisses your cheek, smiling back. you give him another peck on his lips. you yawn, today's and tonight's activities catching up with you once again.

"aw, you tired?"

"mhm. you must be, too, spidey."

"exhausted. let's get cleaned up, then we'll go to bed?"

"sounds perfect."

peter helps you down from the table. you quickly step into your panties in case any cum leaks out of you. he picks his suit up off the floor.

"okay, that was insanely good. i mean, it always is, but something was different. i wonder what it was."

peter shimmies into his suit so his lower half is covered. you're putting on the rest of your clothes.

"i don't know, i’ve just been super on my shit today. really focused and stuff."

"explains why you were so locked in on your suit."

"that might just be a stark thing. actually, it's a parker thing too."

you poke peter's chest playfully. you collect some of your things from your work area, some miscellaneous supplies sticking to your palms as you do.

"why does this keep happening?"

peter watches curiously as you huff and shake paper clips off your palms.

"funny, that reminds me of when i first got my powers. took me a while to figure out how to control it, being sticky."

"uh huh. did you spill web fluid last time you were down here or something?"

"i don't think so, but it would have dissolved by now if i did. i haven't been in the lab for a couple days."

"oh. maybe it was someone else."

peter quirks a brow.

"i don't see any web fluid over there, y/n/n."

you turn to face peter.

"so why am i sticky?"

between this, your strength, and your heightened senses, peter puts it together. you have powers.

his spider powers.

"that might also be a parker thing. more specifically, a spider-man thing."

"you don't mean... no."

if peter is saying what you think he's saying, that confirms what you had thought earlier.

"uh, yeah."

peter crosses over to you. your eyebrows knit together.

"we must share some dna."

"but how? that wouldn't be possible unless we were, like, related... ew! please don't tell me we're fucking related!"

"baby, baby." peter laughs softly, taking one of your hands in his. "stop freaking out."

"you should be freaking out too! you were just inside me, peter, fucking me raw! you came in me!"

"exactly."

peter's voice is way too calm for your liking.

"exactly? what do you mean 'exactly'?"

"think about it. sperm is made up of dna."

"so what?"

"well, i wasn't born with this dna. it got mutated by the spider bite. so no, we're definitely not related."

you tentatively soften your gaze, allowing peter to lace his fingers through yours.

"since i got my powers from the mutation, i guess you got them too when i started finishing in you."

you gasp, a playful smile pulling at your lips.

"you mean you mutated my dna? you have radioactive cum?"

"something like that. you're not mad?"

you toy with peter's fingers, looping an arm around his neck.

"nah, it's kind of cool now that i know what it is. you're gonna have to teach me how to use the powers, though."

"of course." peter returns your smile. "now that you've got new powers, you gotta rebrand. maybe you could call yourself spider-woman."

"you'd like that, wouldn't you? come up with something more original."

peter's arms wrap around your middle, smile growing into a toothy grin.

"you could also use mrs. parker. it's gonna be your name someday, anyways."

you put your other arm around peter's neck with a laugh.

"mrs. parker, i like that."

(too lazy to use tags lmao)

[starboye]

pairing: jacob elordi x male reader x tom holland

request: I'm a manwhore for Jacob Elordi and Tom Holland being possessive over male reader whenever he talks to another guy whether he's just being friendly in general and the two of them just fuck and tease male reader whenever they get a chance and male reader calling them daddy(btw love your work!)

warnings: smut, rough sex, fingering, teasing, face fucking, cum eating, daddy kink

you were just chatting it up with some other actor at an event, you weren't even all touchy with them like jacob says but somehow just talking to the guy shows how badly you wanted him to fuck you so they just had to interrupt the conversation, both of them wrapping an arm around you waist and laying a kiss on your head.

"hey baby who's this" jacob asks moving his hand lower to grope your ass right in front of the man "just a friend i was talking to" you say already knowing the thoughts bouncing around in their minds "well seeing as we're here now you can go now" tom pipes up, watching the man quickly walk away to not start anything with tom or jacob.

"now why did you do that" you ask turning around to see the shit eating grin on their faces before jacobs leans down to kiss you and tom starts kissing your neck "we have no idea what you mean" tom mutter "guys stop we're in public" you try to push them off you but once they have a thought in mind they wont stop till they do it.

pushing you into the nearest bathroom and locking the door before taking off your clothes and letting them drop to the floor, jacob bending you over the the sink and spitting on his fingers, sliding them up and down your hole to open you up while tom continued making out with you to swallow your moans to keep them from reaching the ears of the others outside the door.

after some time of teasing you jacob finally slips his fingers inside you, curling them inside you over and over as he pumped them in and out of you, just grazing against your good spot leaving you moaning into toms mouth like a needy cock whore "please please i need it" you whined making them both chuckle "you want this cock in you" jacob taunts you, just barely rubbing his tip up and down your hole.

"mhm please j" you choke out and jacob fulfills your request, slipping his thick cock into you in an instant, whimpers falling from your mouth as the large man plows your hole raw while tom decides he has to keep you quiet some way, turning you his way and pulling his pants down to let his cock flop out and shoving it in your mouth, your moans reverberating around his cock making him shudder a little.

"two tight holes for two big cock" tom laughs pumping his cock in and out of your mouth roughly, listening to you gag around him like a good boy, it felt so good being a cock slut for tom and jacob, feeling their dick fill you up and stretch you out everyday, although it left you sore it was so good to be the only hole for them.

"what do you say, should we fill him up jacobs" tom asks feeling himself already about to unload "it would be a crime if we didn't" jacob smirks pounding into you harder before emptying his load into you, tom following close behind and cumming down your throat, hearing as you struggle to take all his thick cum down but you do.

"now what do you say" jacob asks giving a little slap to your ass "thank you daddy" you stammer out "good boy now lets get you dressed" tom says, they both help you put all your clothes back on and walk you to the car, getting weird stare from the guests that see you walking funny and looking fucked out, only if they knew.

taglist:@mailmango @spermeboy @ghostking4m @gayaristocrat @addictedtomalepits @staarb0y @crispysoup318 @its-ares @gargoylesworld09 @znerac

[infictionalwonderland]

Hey, I hope you’re having a good day! I had an idea, Marvel cast flirting with y/n for x minutes?

. . MARVEL CAST FLIRTING WITH Y/N Y/L/N FOR 10 MINUTES STRAIGHT!

part 2 / part 3

Coming home from an extremely long and stressful day/week was unfortunately something very familiar to you—so familiar that you and your best friend (your not famous best friend who was your pilar through all the chaos fame brought) had created a little routine; she’d send you various videos and links to movies and online books she knew would relax and amuse you.

So, cuddled up in your bed with your pyjamas and your star lights on (a true child at heart, always) you opened up your chats with them and eagerly swiped to see that they’d sent.

‘Marvel Cast Flirting with Y/N Y/L/N For 10 Minutes Straight!’ was the video for tonight.

Immediately you cackled to yourself, hurriedly sending your best friend thanks in the form of ironic emojis and frantic proclamations of undying love, before loading up the (true to prior word) ten minute long video.

Surely this was an exaggeration.

The video began, large letters in a cute font appearing on the dark screen ‘the marvel cast all being in love flirting with y/n for ten minutes’. The quick ‘AS THEY SHOULD’ before the clips started playing made you giggle to yourself.

The first clip was from some years back, you were pretty sure this was a premiere for The Avengers, given how you looked and the quality—you were standing opposite on interview, smile on your face and dressed in a pretty outfit the same colour of your character’s aesthetic.

“How do you feel about your costume?”

Before you could even answer the interviews question, Scarlett intercepted your interview—hair in a short red bob and a smirking grin at her lips as she wrapped an arm around your waist.

“Well I know how we all feel about this ladies costume, it’s a beautiful piece that just makes the women wearing all the more beautiful. If that’s even possible.”

The edit quickly gave Scarlett beating heart eyes for you as she didn’t tear her eyes away from you for a second—making present time you laugh.

With that she kissed your cheek, leaving a red mark of her lipstick and walked away, dramatically winking in your direction.

The second clip was a blooper, from .. Captain America: Civil War, you thought. You were on Sebastian’s shoulders, thighs locked over his head—in character, as your character and his were mid fight.

He stumbled back over a table accidentally and you let out a startled yelp, hands flying to steady yourself in his long hair and one of his landing on your arse cheek to steady you as he steadied himself with the other.

“Is it bad that I’m loving this?”

“SEBA—“

“Cut!”

The third clip was you and Lizzie (Elizabeth Olsen) reacting fan tweets; Lizzie unrolled the piece of paper, her eyes lighting up as she giggled with a little smirk.

“Elizabeth. .” You wearily trailed off, looking at your friend.

“Sorry, sorry. Okay! This tweet says if i could just pretty BEEP please with the juiciest most mouthwatering cherry on top get a not kid friendly scene of Wanda and (Your Character) I could die peacefully, my wish fulfilled. I implore you marvel, listen to your dying fan.”

“That tweet had over fifty thousand likes as well.” A feminine voice added in from behind the camera, laughter in her tone.

You and Lizzie turned to each other at the same time, grinning.

“I mean the fan is dying babe. .”

“Right? We should totally make this happen, like, totally.” She gave you a cheeky once over, eyes appreciating all of you. “Because it was the fans wish, not mine, duh.” Lizzie added.

“Mhm.” You hummed with a smirk.

The fourth clip was a evidently some sort of ‘guess the body part’ game: a photo of what you were pretty sure was your bottom half was the picture currently used for guessing, in the picture you were leaned over in a pair of yoga pants and in your personal opinion, you looked good. Well, your arse looked good (amazing, otherworldly—you humbly added)

Lizzie was the first person to answer, the video showing each persons turn one by one and immediately she said, “that’s my girl. Y/N.” Then giggling she added, “now get my girls booty off the screen, I don’t need you all ogling her. We get enough of that, sometimes causes a strain on us. But we’ve remained strong together.”

Paul Rudd was next and he stared at the picture of you for a few solid seconds, “it’s Y/N.” He sheepishly admitted. He pointed an accusing finger dramatically towards the camera—“I only know this because of all the edits you guys make!”

“You don’t have to watch them.” The interviewer pointed out innocently; Paul pouted, grumbling.

Next was Anthony who instantly answered, “That’s Y/N right here!” He hyped you up, grinning. “Don’t even try and make it creepy, we do glutes together man, it’s why we’re the best asses in the cast. Up top!” Anthony exclaimed, holding his hand up towards the picture as if pretending to high five you or something—the interviewer timidly gave him a high five.

Sebastian was next as you (and everyone) watch his eyes flicker and grin that was more of a smirk spread across his cheeks, “that’s definitely y/n.” He assumed instantly. “Would’ve been able to tell you that blindfolded.”

“But—“

“I’d have just sensed her.” Sebastian giggled.

Chris Evans was next—a grin picked up on his face immediately, eyes trained on the photo of you and he ran a hand over his beard, lightly biting his lip (HEELLLOOO????)

“That’s Y/n.” Chris stated confidently, smirking lightly and the camera caught some of the team in line of sight exchange raised eyebrows.

The fifth clip was of Brie Larson who was being interviewed on some sort of premiere event again—presumably or her (marvellous) movie, Captain Marvel, smiling at the interviewer.

“Out of all of the people on the Marvel Cast, those who you’ve met, do you have a favourite out of them?” The interview questioned.

“I’m not really one for favourites but I would definitely say I’m closest to Y/n! She’s—she’s just so lovely and funny and she’s like a ray of sunshine, honestly. She’s been a great help in the filming process as well, she coached me through everything with so patience—I would’ve strangled me if I was her, but no, she just had that adorable smile on her face. She’s truly an amazing person and a better friend than I thought possible.” Brie answered enthusiastically with a soft smile.

“Awwww! We love to hear that—are any of the rumours about her true?”

Brie blinked, seeming taken aback for a brief moment— “Yes she does smell amazing, she’s always effortlessly beautiful, she’s unfailingly hilarious and yes no one in this world deserves her. But like. . if she’s open to it,” Brie paused, winking at the camera and making a call me sign with her hands and mouthing the words with a flirty grin.

The sixth clip was of you, Tom Holland, RDJ, Paul Bettany, Zoe Saldana and Pom Klementieff on Jimmy Kimmel, tasked with drawing your characters. The clip started just as you turned around the drawing of your character and well, it was actually surprisingly good in your own opinion—the audience immediately erupted into loud and obnoxious cheers.

“As great as that is, love, it still doenst capture the extent of your beauty.” Tom Holland, who was sat to your left, grinned cheekily at you and the audience practically shouted and hooted.

“Would anything ever?” Zoe shot back from your right side, twirling a lock of your hair affectionately and smiling as she leaned against you.

“I sincerely doubt that anything could.” RDJ piped up, giving you an unapologetic grin when you looked over at him with fond exasperation as the crowd was practically inconsolable in their glee and enthusiasm, shouting out your praises. “Give it up for sunshine, people. Our gorgeous ray of sunshine!”

“I—“

“They are quite right, Y/n.” Paul Bettany spoke over Jimmy who was obviously going to try and calm down his crowd.

The seventh clip started playing: it was a clip taken from Jacob Batalon’s story, clearly in a party setting—the video showed you and Zendaya in the centre of the dance floor, everyone around you clearly watching you both as you danced up against each other to the sounds of Yeah! by Usher.

“Mate I think your girls about to be stole.” The voice of Tom’s friend, Harrison, sounded from beside Jacob and presumably Tom himself and to empathise Harrison’s words, Jacob zoomed in on your faces, wide grins of ecstasy, and the way Zendaya was admiring you.

“Right in public as well, the scandal.” Jacob cackled.

The eighth clip was an interview of Chris Evans and McKenna Grace (you adored that little girl to pieces). The two of them were answering the ‘Webs Most Searched Question’s’ together.

“Who was.. Chris Evans, date at the Oscars?”

McKenna immediately ooed, smiling teasingly and Chris laughed from beside her.

“This is getting juicy!”

“Well, it was my mom one year and then my sister last year—“

“He wishes it was Y/n though.” The little girl laughed with a beaming smile on her lips and you, present time, arched a brow.

Chris bashfully chuckled with a smile and you swore you could see a genuine red hue on his cheeks, “I mean—it’s Y/n. Anyone would be happy to go with her.”

“I would be!” McKenna excitedly exclaimed as she grinned so sweetly you were now going to make sure you took this sweet child with you to the Oscar’s, Chris seemed to melt as well, recovering from his brief flustered moment.

The ninth clip was Sebastian and Anthony reading out their thirst tweets in a Buzzfeed interview, the clip started as Sebastian was pulling out a tweet from the large bucket.

He read it to himself and blushed faintly, Anthony’s eyebrows practically reaching his forehead as he tried to lean over and read it but Sebastian jokingly shoved him back.

“Oh for—That scene where (Your Character) chokes baby Bucky out with her thighs, his—his head all up in there; the shit I would give to be her, I would give my soul, my fridge, my moms purse, my dads golf clubs. Please, sir. Put your face between my legs like you did Y/n.”

By the end of the tweet, Sebastian had a deeply awkward and slightly perturbed look on his face and Anthony cackled at his side.

“Nah, I’m pretty sure he was more than happy with it being Y/n, wouldn’t change it even for your dads golf clubs.” Anthony laughed.

“That’s. . I’m gonna have to decline that, um, respectfully.” Sebastian spoke in regards to the tweet, ignoring Anthony.

In turn, Anthony ignored Sebastian as well and just dramatically kept winking at the camera.

The tenth clip was Cobie Smulders, who was being interviewed on some sort of carpet event, smile on her face as she spoke to the interviewer before her.

“How does it feel knowing that the lesbian community, myself included, are firmly rooting for your character, Maria and Y/N’s character (Your Character) to end up together?”

Cobie’s smile turned genuinely delighted, “I love it—we love it. Y/n and I actually have made so many PowerPoints and presented them to the Russo brothers, but alas. I do really want to end up with her—oops, sorry, wait. I really want my character to end with hers. . would be the appropriate wording. But I’m all for inappropriate if Y/n wants.”

Cobie jokingly bit her lip at the camera and you, watching the video, could not contain your laughter as the interviewer practically burst out with excitement.

The eleventh clip was a blooper from your filming of the avengers—you were standing next to Chris Hemsworth who had an arm around your waist, holding you to him as in the scene his character, Thor, flies the both of you away. But Chris quickly tugged you in front of him and began tickling you mercilessly, hysterical giggles falling from your lips as the people around you laughed as well.

“Chris, HAVE MERCY!”

“Aw, but I enjoy hearing your laughter. It’s a very pretty sound.” Chris laughed to himself, finally stopping his attack and letting you slump against his, back to his front. “I particularly like this as well.” He smirked down at you.

“CHRI—“

In the twelfth clip, you and Tessa Thompson were reading out thirst tweets together: “The feminine urge to fall asleep cuddled into Y/n’s boobs is too real, pls come here mommy.” You read out, giggling all the while.

“The urge is so strong.” Tess commented, nodding her add as she sneakily glanced at your chest with a innocent smile.

“Come here, baby.” You joked, laughing as you opened your arms for her and she practically leaped into them, resting her head on your chest.

“I’m living the dreams of millions right now and it feels amazing.” Tessa gloated jokingly, pulling away from you with only final squeeze and a little wink the camera caught.

“I concur.” You grinned back.

The thirteenth clip was you and Tom Hiddleston, talking with an interviewer on a carpet event. His arm was around your waist and both of you were wearing smiles greeting the interviewer.

“So, obviously, you both act in marvel movies, but not really close together! If you could, would you want to work more closely and have you characters be more involved?”

“I absolutely would.” Tom immediately replied with an honest, heartwarming smile. “And personally, it’s not even a fact of our characters being intertwined it’s more that working this fantastic woman beside me is a gift I have come to deeply cherish, truly it’s an honour. And I suppose, if our characters were to get involved, so to speak, that I would enjoy that because this is the y/n y/l/n, I’d be a mad man not to want that.” He finished charmingly.

You grinned, taking a bow, and both Tom and the interviewer laughed before that clip cut as well.

The fourteenth clip was at Comic-Con, mostly everyone on the cast had already been called out and taken their seats and then your name was called, the audience erupting into loud cheers.

Sebastian, who was sat next to your assigned seat, hopped and and jogged over to offer you his arm as you grinned and waved at everyone—the crowd screaming louder at his actions.

The screams only increased as Chris Evans and Don Cheadle got up to pull out your chair for you to sit down in—you pretended to swoon into Sebastian before kissing all of their cheeks and taking your seat.

“Where was the treatment for me?” RDJ joked.

“Man, they’re just whipped. But, like, who isn’t for Y/n?” Anthony stage whispered back to him and the crowd literally roared in excitement.

The fifteenth clip was Aaron Taylor-Johnson being interviewed with Lizzie for the Age of Ultron press, most probably.

“So, Aaron, obviously your character—spoilers, sorry—isn’t with us anymore but if you had the chance to explore Pietro more, who would you have wanted to explore a romance with?”

“(Your Character) definitely, Y/N.” Aaron answered with a little sheepish grin at the speed and Lizzie giggled into her palm.

“I’m not making fun, I agree, for myself.” Lizzie commented unprompted.

“Why is that?” The interviewer questioned.

“Why—mate, I think it’s pretty obvious. Y/n is such a stunning person, inside and out, I would have loved to—and obviously her character is extremely sick and I’m certain the relationship between her and Pietro would’ve been the stuff of legends but. . come on, Y/n Y/l/n is my real reason.” Aaron joked.

“Get your own girl, she’s mine.” Lizzie glared.

There were still many minutes left of the video left and that alone astounded you; overcome with cackles, you forwarded the video the your Marvel groupchat—so yall bitches like obsessed with me or sum 🥰🥰🥰

[mellowmadds]

Casual Study Dates | Peter Parker

(MCU) Peter Parker/Fem Stark Reader

Warnings - slightly suggestive

Summary - Avenger’s compound a usually busy place hustling with activity seems unusually quiet for the day. leaving y/n and Peter in a sticky situation (pun intended)

Word Count: 1,237

°°••....••°°

Avenger’s Compound, a place that’s usually bustling with activities and combat training sometime’s has quiet days like this where super-powered humans who have insanely intense hearing can hear a pin drop from across campus. For you though being one of the youngest on the team you hated those days because it seemed as if everybody always wanted to see what you were up to. You weren’t necessarily an avenger but you were extremely smart and helped out around the lab and worked on some Stark Industries projects with your dad every once and a while. And that’s how you met Peter Parker and during those first two years of awkward conversations and study dates you two seemed to find some comfort in all that awkwardness.

“Are you nervous about MIT sending out their decisions soon?” Peter asked while getting comfortable on your bed while staring out at the beautiful city view.

“Why would I be nervous Peter? Most of my family are MIT Alumni.” You said a bit cocky if you really think about it.

“I- know it’s just I figured maybe you’d be experiencing the same nerves I was. It was a stupid question nevermind sorry” Peter stuttered out.

“You don’t have to be sorry Peter and you definitely don’t have to worry my dad put in a good word about you. You’re one hundred percent getting into MIT” You told him confidently.

You knew Peter was an anxious person and you’d do anything to take his nerves away.

“Now are we going to keep stressing about MIT or are we going to figure out these formulas that Bruce gave us to solve?” You asked while holding up the stack of papers labeled ‘Top Secret Formulas’.

Peter nodded his head yes while lifting his body off your bed to instead sit on the edge of the bed closer to your desk where all of your work was scattered across your laptop.

“But first I need to put some music on or else I won’t be able to focus” You said before sliding the miscellaneous papers off your laptop.

“That’s the Stark in you talking, how can you focus better with music blasting in your ears?” Peter asked while laughing.

“I guess you are right, that is a classic trait of my dads. But it just helps me focus better. I don't know, I can't explain it.” You turned on your playlist before flipping to the first page of the stack of formulas Bruce assigned you to solve.

Your speaker was loud but who cares it’s not like anyone cared or was listening everyone was off doing their own things. The first few songs were upbeat and fun but the farther you got into your playlist the more guilty pleasure songs started playing, but Peter didn’t mind he was blocking out the music anyways so he could focus better on the formulas in front of him. What you didn’t know was that Steve and Nat were standing outside your room listening.

“Knee deep where? doing what?” Steve said worriedly looking over at Nat.

“It’s just a song Steve stop being so old-school” Nat smirked back at him.

“But Peter’s in there with her, what if they aren’t actually studying?” Steve asked as any worried uncle would.

“The song is talking about having relations in the bathroom during dinner time, that’s not appropriate Nat” Steve said firmly not accepting any excuse now.

Nat wasn’t interested in continuing this conversation any further and started walking toward the living quarters where there sat Bucky, Clint, Bruce and of course Tony.

“What’s got you so tense Cap? Your boyfriends right here if you have to relieve some tension” Tony laughed making fun of Steve and Bucky’s unusual bromance.

“I think you should worry more about what your daughter and Peter are doing upstairs” Steve said, crossing his arms.

“What? What are you talking about Cap? His vigilant ass better not be corrupting my innocent perfect daughter” Tony angrily stated as his face turned a shade of red nobody expected.

“They are listening to a song about having relations in the car and bathroom” Steve said pointing upstairs to your room.

“And you didn’t shut it down the moment you heard that? What kind of uncle are you?” Tony asked running up the stairs to take a listen for himself.

“Oh my gosh the lyrics are filthy but it sounds so calming, how does an artist achieve that?” Tony muttered under his breath before harshly knocking on your bedroom door and bursting in unannounced.

“What’s going on here?” Tony yelled loudly only to be met with a view of you sitting at your desk and Peter sitting on your bed leaning against the headboard with a textbook and stack of papers sitting on his lap.

“What dad? We are busy figuring out the formulas Bruce gave us. Why the hell is everyone crowding outside my room?” You asked, pointing towards Steve, Bucky, Nat, Clint and Bruce all huddling in a circle outside your bedroom door.

“Well we heard the song you guys were listening to and were a bit concerned. You guys aren’t acting on those lyrics are you? You guys better not be under my roof” Tony questioned with a look of disgust on his face.

“What the hell are you going on about dad?” You asked looking over at Peter who looked like he'd seen a ghost.

“Are you guys having sexual relations?” Tony asked in disgust as your playlist suddenly skipped to the next song which would make your case even worse.

“Head so good, she's an honor roll she’ll ride your what like a carnival?” Tony repeated the lyrics.

“I am on the honor roll though, so it’s not entirely a lie” You replied back smirking like a smartass.

“This is not a laughing matter young lady, we are talking about something serious here, answer my question right now” Tony stated with a straight face not joking around anymore.

“Yeah we are and what about it?” You said, shrugging your shoulders.

“Y/n not in front of everybody” Peter said shyly.

“Who cares Peter they were going to find out sooner or later anyways, might as well just tell them now” You said looking back at everyone’s shocked faces. As you looked past your father behind him stood Bucky handing Clint a ten dollar bill.

“You guys had a bet going on about us?” Peter asked, looking back and forth between them but also keeping one eye on Tony just in case he might try to kill him.

“This conversation is not over and from now on this door stays open” Tony said sternly ignoring all the giggles and snarky remarks coming from his fellow avengers. Your playlist then starts playing a different song which lightens up the mood just a little.

“This one has a dance to go along with it, watch H-O-T-T-O-G-O it’s like the YMCA'' You said while doing the dance.

“I like doing the YMCA” Steve said, smiling now entering your room.

“Of course you do because you're ancient” Peter said jokingly.

As you can expect you didn’t think you’d be ending your day teaching Steve Rogers the Hot To Go dance however you wouldn’t trade the quiet days at the compound for anything because at the end of the day you’re just one big family and you wouldn’t trade them for the world.

[motherofdogs1010]

Guys Not My Age I (Peter Parker x Reader)

Summary: They say sometimes older men are better when it comes to relationships, but Y/N finds that isn't always the case when she wakes up in bed with a certain younger man after breaking up with a certain Winter Soldier

Warning: 18+ only, age gap relationship, older woman/younger man!, everyone is over 18!, fratboy!Peter Parker, cheater!Bucky, computergenius!reader, hacker!reader, toxicex!Bucky, consensual sex, semi public sex, heavy smut, drinking, swearing, unprotected sex, eventual pregnancy

A/N: Re-write of 'Need to Know'

Series Masterlist

Banner @vase-of-lilies Dividers @firefly-graphics

Her head throbbed and pulsated as she begun to wake up.

The overall shittyness of a hangover taking over her body as the loud, blarming phone alarm rung hard in her ears as she groaned. She buried her face into the pillow as she felt movement coming from next to her, immediate confusion filling her mind as she heard, "Shit, sorry. Forgot that I had the stupid alarm on."

She recognized that voice even with it being laced with grogginess and sleep as she snapped open her eyes, wincing from the daylight that peeked over the curtains.

She was met with an unfamiliar room that looked like the standard college dorm: books and notes in an slight mess on the desk with a laptop hanging by it, posters on the walls and the distinct sound of boys laughing and footsteps coming down the halls.

Turning her head, her eyes widened as the memories of the previous night filled her as she resisted to gulp as she was met with the shirtless image of Peter fiddling with his phone.

The memories of the night before felt like a tidal wave washing over her as she remembered having gone out to drinks with the Avengers team to celebrate their latest takedown of yet another Hydra compound (she handled hacking into the tightly encrypted computers) and she knew Tony had partly also wanted to take her out to get her back out onto the dating scene.

She watched as Peter scratched his head for a moment, seemingly beginning to wake back up as she came to the realization of her naked body under the blanket and the realization of her memories being confirmed as she saw a glimpse of the scratches on Peter's back.

Sitting up as she tugged up the blanket, she wondered how the hell she was suppose to do a walk of shame out of her as Peter said, "anyway, want to get breakfast?"

"What?"

Peter tilted his head a little, "want to get breakfast? I thought since we were getting along so well..."

The ache between her legs from last night a reminder of how well they got along.

It wasn't like she didn't enjoy it or anything, but it was the realization that she had slept with someone nearly ten years younger than her.

"Peter, I'm-"

"I know. You're 30 and I'm 21, I don't care." Peter shrugged and she couldn't help but get distracted by his strong physique. "I told you I don't want a girl my age, I've wanted you."

It made her heart clench at statement.

"All I'm asking for is you take a chance", Peter pleaded, bringing their lips into a soft kiss.

It made her melt.

"Fine. One chance."

Peter grinned.

"But I refuse to be seen by a bunch of frat boys so you better make sure they clear out of here. I'm too old to be dealing with that."

"You're barely 30, no even that old."

Y/N downed the shot of tequila that Tony had passed her, laughing as she felt the burn in her throat and hearing Tony cheering. Say what you want about Tony, but he knew how to party as he had taken them to some nightclub that he bought for shits and giggles.

"Enjoying the burn", Tony teased, Y/N laughed.

"It's the tequila sweats that I hate", she said back.

Standing up from the little VIP booth Tony had rented for them all, Y/N scoped out her surroundings. She saw Nat dragging a bashful Steve to the dance floor, Steve was awkwardly moving around before he finally got the hang of it and began dancing with Nat. Y/N laughed as she watched Steve get down on the dance floor, she spotted Vision (who had his human form on) with Wanda near the bar as Wanda was getting another drink.

"Are you having fun?"

Y/N looked in the direction to see Peter standing there with a grin, Y/N smiled back at him.

"I wondered where you were", Y/N responded, "I always forget your 21."

"My baby face makes it that way", Peter joked.

Y/N had to admit, Peter Parker was a very attractive man, especially right now with his hair gelled back, a white button down that had the sleeves rolled up and dark slacks. Tony said Peter had changed a lot since high school, having managed to join a fraternity in his first year of college; she had only met Peter in the last year so hearing that he was anything but confident before was a little shocking since he walked around like a little mini Tony sometimes.

Peter moved a little closer to her as Tony announced that he was going to join Wanda at the bar.

Sam and Clint were missing, both men having taken some time off to go visit their families, especially for Sam since he wanted to be there for one of his nephew's birthdays.

Although, the person that everyone seemed to ignore that wasn't there was a certain Winter Soldier, but it seemed everyone was on the rocks with the man at the moment. But cheating and immediately bringing around the girl you cheated with will do that, won't it?

Of course that was the second main reason behind Tony bringing nearly all of them out to the club was because of her confiding in Tony about being ready to get back out there. She felt no issue confiding in Tony considering how close of friends they were, she was coming out in his upcoming wedding to Pepper in just a few months time.

"It's a cute baby face", Y/N teased, Peter chuckled.

"I'm glad you're having fun", Peter said, "you deserve it."

Y/N smiled as she tugged up the neckline of her red mini dress, the fabric clinging to her large breasts and hips. It was an off the shoulder dress that she chose just for the occasion with long sleeves and paired with some red bottoms that Nat was letting her borrow.

Y/N watched as Peter looked a bit indecisive as if he was second guessing himself before he blurted out, "Would you like to dance?"

"Don't you think you should be dancing with someone your own age?" she teased before Peter snaked a toned arm around her waist.

"Age is just a number, right?" Peter answered with a wink. "When it comes to two consenting adults, of course."

She wouldn't be an idiot to say she hadn't noticed the younger man's eyes roaming her figure. But she never thought much of it considering she had been in a relationship with Bucky, but that bridge was burned a lot time ago.

She was here to have fun, dance a little, drink... there was no harm in just a dance, right?

"Alright, Spiderboy", Y/N said, "show me what you got."

~

Wanna know what it's like (like) Baby, show me what it's like (like) I don't really got no type (type) I just wanna fuck all night

The sound of Doja Cat singing could be heard even in the women's restroom, the door locked in a rush as Peter pressed her harder into said door. Their tongues dancing across one another as she could taste the alcohol on his tongue, Y/N moaned as Peter slotted his knee between her legs, pressing against her wet cunt and beginning to rock her hips against him.

But Peter pulled his knee away and she whimpered, breaking the kiss for a moment before she felt one of his hands trail under her dress, finding her thong.

"You're soaked", Peter teased, she shuddered as Peter ran a finger down her slit. "I bet I could slid right in."

As if that was his cue, Peter slid a finger into her, Y/N let her head fall into Peter's chest as he slowly began to pump his finger in her.

"Don't tease", she moaned as she brought his face down to hers.

What's your size? (Size) Add, subtract, divide ('vide) Daddy don't throw no curves (curves) Hold up, I'm goin' wide (wide) We could just start at ten (ten) Then we can go to five (five) I don't play with my pen (pen) I mean what I write

She connected their lips again as Peter slid another finger into, fingering her harder now as he began to rub her clit in tight circles. Y/N cried out at the sensations as she rocked her hips in time with Peter's movements.

Peter began to trail kisses down her neck as her eyes rolled back into her head, her mouth falling open as pants escaped her mouth.

"Fuck you're beautiful", Peter said as he quickened his fingers. "Come on, Y/N, cum on me."

Y/N felt like she was in the Twilight Zone right now, but fuck it, she was enjoying it with the way Peter was fingering her. She could feel that tight knot building in her as Peter's fingers reached an area in her that made her nearly tear up in pleasure, his fingers practically massaging it as she began to tug on his hair as her toes began to curl.

"P-Peter", she panted, "gonna...cum..."

She saw Peter grin in satisfaction as her orgasm hit her like a freight train. She felt breathless and fuzzy as Peter fingered her through it before she whimpered at the overstimulation, which Peter pulled his fingers out.

"Still think I should find someone my own age?" Peter teased, she narrowed her eyes as she panted.

Peter slid his fingers into his mouth and sucked on them.

"I always knew you'd taste sweet", Peter said as she reached for his belt buckle.

Peter brought a hand up, squishing her cheeks together and forcing her lips into a pout; he pressed a sloppy kiss to her lips as she successfully managed to get unzip Peter's slacks, slipping her hand inside to begin to tease the younger man in front of her.

"Now, you wanna be a tease?" Peter groaned as he began to move her to one of the many sinks in the bathroom.

I just can't help but be sexual (whoa) Tell me your schedule (yeah) I got a lotta new tricks for you, baby Just sayin' I'm flexible (I will) I do what I can to get you off (I will)

Peter had gotten her on the sink, legs spread and her thong stuffed in one of his pockets as he began to rock into her. Her eyes rolling into the back of her head as she felt Peter hike up her leg on him higher, sending him into deeper territory and brushing up against her G-spot as he began to rub her clit in time with his rocking.

"P-Peter", she slurred, eyes beginning to water from pleasure.

"Fuck, you're squeezing me so good", Peter whined as he gripped the sink below her.

His thrusts becoming rougher as he buried his face in the crook of her neck.

Might just fuck him with my makeup on (I will) Eat it like I need an apron on (yeah, ay) Eat it 'til I need to change my thong (yeah, ay) We could do it to your favorite song (yeah, ay)

Her makeup was ruined, she was sure of it from the amount of kissing, sweat and tears. Y/N shivered as Peter bite down on a part of her neck, making her clench around her even tighter and causing him to let out more groans of pleasure, his hips slapping into her even rougher.

The sound of skin slapping skin rung in bathroom, echoing off the walls as she brought Peter's face back to her own, smashing their lips together as she squealed when her second orgasm hit her, her legs shaking and back arching.

You're exciting, boy, come find me Your eyes told me, "Girl, come ride me" Fuck that feeling both us fighting Could he try me? (Yeah) mmm, most likely

She had pushed Peter onto one of the toilets in the bathroom, his dick red and leaking when she had straddled him before sinking down onto him. Y/N shivered as she felt Peter stretching her out again and she knew she was going to be feeling him the next day as she moaned and threw her head back at the delicious stretch his cock gave her cunt again.

Peter gripped her hips before grabbing her ass and smacking it, she pulled her face towards his, connecting their lips as she begun to rock her hips.

Oh, wait, you a fan of the magic? Poof, pussy like an Alakazam (yeah) I heard from a friend of a friend That that dick was a ten out of ten

She could someone knocking on the door, but she could care less right with Peter buried so deep inside her as his hands that gripped her hips so tightly began to help rock her.

Baby, I need to know, mmm

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~🕷️🕸️💻~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sometimes Y/N wondered what Peter had been like before he went to Empire State and joined his fraternity, and in this moment as they sat across from one another at one of the on-campus cafes, she figured maybe this might have been it with how he fidgeted a little.

"Nervous?" she mused, "this was your idea."

"I can't be nervous on a date with a pretty girl?" Peter remarked and she chuckled.

"Not after last night." Peter grinned and ran a hand through his fluffy, chocolate brown hair. "Besides, this isn't a date. This is you trying to convince me why I should go on a date with you."

"Sorry, it's just... I've liked you for awhile, but I didn't say anything because-"

"Because of Bucky?"

Peter looked down sheepishly and Y/N reached over to grasp his hand.

"And then when you two broke up, I didn't think it would be right to tell you because of how everything went down."

"You're doing a lot better than he did", Y/N said. "I appreciate that you waited, Peter. That's really sweet of you."

Peter grinned a boyish grin that Y/N couldn't help, but replicate back at him.

~

She had agreed to a date with Peter.

In the back of her mind, she couldn't help but think of the thoughts that others might have with her being seen with Peter. She examined her face in the mirror, trying to see if she had any wrinkles, age-related blemishes and sighed.

"You look stressed." Slightly startled, Y/N turned around to find Nat standing the doorway of her room with a curious look on her face.

"Just a little."

"Where are you off to? Hot date tonight?" Nat asked with a grin.

"About that", Y/N trailed off, looking at her outfit.

A white, blue-floral printed dress that cinched at the waist and was off the shoulder adorned her body with her keeping her makeup clean and simple, and her face loose and away from her face.

"Who's the lucky person?"

"Peter."

Nat was silent for a moment as Y/N felt the pit of anxiety in her stomach at the thought of her friend's judgement before Nat said, "well damn, didn't think the kid had the balls to make a move."

"What?" Y/N asked as she went to grab a pair of platform sandals.

"Anyone would working sense could tell the kid was eyeing your ass all the time", Nat nonchalantly said with a shrug. "Don't tell you didn't notice?"

"I noticed", Y/N defended, slipping her feet into the shoes. "I just thought it was because he was young."

"I also take it that you were with him when you disappeared from the club?"

Y/N's eyes widened as she looked away before Nat let out a laugh.

"Damn, you have to tell me all the details when you get back", Nat teased. "But I'm glad you're getting back out there again."

"You don't think it's weird? With me being older than Peter?"

"If men in their sixties can date women young enough to be their daughters, why can't you go on a date with a younger guy?" Nat shrugged.

Y/N gave Nat a smile and sucked in a breath.

"So, how do I look?" Y/N asked, posing for a moment.

"Like Parker will most likely fuck the shit out of you."

"Perfect."

Peter texted her not too long after that he had arrived and in an air of her favorite perfume, she met him out in the living room of the compound.

A sense of satisfaction fell over her as she noticed Peter's eyes raking over her body as she took in his appearance. His hair slightly gelled away from his face, a white button down shirt and black slacks framed his body.

They were alone in the living room, a rare event since the space always had at least one person present but apparently not today.

"You look amazing", Peter complimented, stretching out his hand and grasping hers.

He gently pulled her towards him as his eyes hungrily stared into hers.

"Thank you", she said with a small smirk. "I thought you'd enjoy this. Never worn it before."

Lost in their own world, they never noticed a certain figure hanging around the corner, seething as he watched Peter met her lips in a soft kiss.

His metal hand clenching into a fist as he turned away, fuming at the sight before him.

TAGLIST

@theoraekenslover

[ironinc]

Rivalry's Reward.ᝰ.ᐟ 

Spider-man/Peter Parker x F!Black Reader. (Smut/NSFW)

˗ˏˋ While attending your dream college in New York, you and Peter share a competitive dynamic. Constantly trying to outdo each other in class. However, when you both find yourselves locked in detention together, your tension takes a different turn. With the professor temporarily gone, you're left alone, free to explore the attraction that's been building between you two.

⤷ Oneshot, smut very detailed so here’s the warning. Public sex since it is in a classroom. And lowkey enemies to lovers.

⤷ A/N: This is my first story for Spiderman aka Peter Parker so please do bare with me 😫. Btw this space “__” Is just your name. I just don’t like typing Y/N. Also in this story they are attending college so essentially Peter is aged up to 20 years old. Just wanna make that clear.

⤷ Word count: 2,070

⤷ Special song to add spice: Pretty Little Birds by SZA ft Isaiah Rashad

જ⁀➴

The air in the detention room was thick with tension, the kind that made your skin prickle and your breath hitch. You sat at the desk, arms crossed, staring daggers at Peter Parker across the room. He leaned back in his chair, that infuriating smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. Of course, he had to look so smug. You’d been at each other’s throats all week, competing for the top spot in every class—calculus, chemistry, even gym. And now, here you were, stuck in detention together, the universe’s idea of a cruel joke.

“Still mad about the pop quiz?” Peter quipped, his voice dripping with faux innocence. You could hear the laughter in his tone, and it only fueled your irritation.

You rolled your eyes, leaning forward, fingers drumming against the desk. “You only won because you cheated,” you shot back, though you knew it wasn’t true. Peter was annoyingly smart, but you’d never give him the satisfaction of admitting it.

“Cheated?” He raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “You’re just mad because I outsmarted you. Again.”

The room felt smaller with every passing second, the walls closing in as the heat of your frustration mingled with something else—something you didn’t want to acknowledge. But it was there, simmering beneath the surface, a fire neither of you could ignore. You glared at him, your chest rising and falling with every sharp breath. “Outsmarted? Please. You’re just lucky.”

Peter leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his eyes locking onto yours. There was a spark in them, a challenge that sent a shiver down your spine. “Luck has nothing to do with it. You’re just too stubborn to admit when you’re beat.”

The words hung in the air, charged and electric. Your pulse quickened, and you felt the heat rising in your cheeks. But it wasn’t anger. Not entirely. It was something else, something dangerous. You held his gaze, refusing to look away, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing you flinch. “I’m not beat,” you said, your voice low, almost a whisper. “Not by a long shot.”

The silence that followed was deafening, the only sound was the ticking of the clock on the wall. Peter’s eyes never left yours, and you could see the shift in them, the way the amusement faded, replaced by something darker, more intense. The air between you crackled with unspoken desire, a tension so palpable it felt like it could shatter with a single touch.

Then, slowly, deliberately, Peter stood up. You watched him as he walked towards you, each step deliberate, his eyes never leaving yours. Your heart pounded in your chest, your breath catching in your throat as he stopped just inches away. “Prove it,” he said, his voice soft, almost a challenge.

You swallowed hard, your mind racing. This was Peter Parker, your rival, the boy who drove you crazy in every sense of the word. And yet, here you were, drawn to him in a way you couldn’t explain. You stood up, meeting his gaze head-on, your chin tilted in defiance. “Fine,” you said, your voice steady despite the storm raging inside you. “But don’t blame me when you lose.”

Peter’s smirk returned, but it was different this timeless teasing, more predatory. He reached out, his fingers brushing against your arm, sending a jolt of electricity through you. “Oh, I’m not worried about losing,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth. “I’m more interested in seeing how far you’re willing to go.”

Your breath hitched, and you felt your resolve waver. But then, something inside you snapped, a defiance that refused to back down. You stepped closer, so close you could feel the heat radiating off him, and looked up into his eyes. “Careful, Parker,” you said, your voice a whisper. “You might just get more than you bargained for.”

The corner of his mouth twitched, and for a moment, you thought he might pull away. But then, his hand was on your waist, pulling you closer, his body flush against yours. The air was thick with tension, the kind that made your head spin and your heart race. “I’m counting on it,” he said, his voice barely audible before his lips crashed into yours.

The kiss was fierce, desperate, a clash of wills as you gave as good as you got. His hands were everywhere, in your hair, gripping your waist, pulling you closer. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling slightly, eliciting a low growl from him that sent a shiver down your spine. The desk behind you was cold against your back, but you barely noticed, too consumed by the heat of his body pressed against yours.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and dizzy, Peter’s eyes were dark with desire, his breathing ragged. “Still think you can outsmart me?” he asked, his voice a husky whisper.

You smirked, your confidence returning as you leaned in close, your lips brushing against his ear. “This isn’t about smarts, Parker,” you murmured. “This is about who’s in control.”

He chuckled, the sound low and dangerous, as he traced a finger along your jawline. “And who’s in control?” he asked, his voice teasing.

You hesitated for a moment, your heart pounding in your chest. But then, with a slow, deliberate smile, you leaned in close, your lips brushing against his ear once more. “Let’s find out,” you whispered. 

Your fingers found the hem of your shirt and slowly, teasingly, began to pull it up. His eyes followed your every movement, his breath hitching as you revealed more and more of your skin. The tension between you was electric, and you could feel the heat of his gaze as you finally removed the shirt, leaving you in just your bra. 

His eyes darkened with desire, and you knew you had won this round. But Peter wasn’t one to back down. He stepped closer, his hands finding your waist as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your neck.

 “You’re playing a dangerous game,” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. You shivered, but you didn’t pull away. Instead, you tilted your head back, giving him better access. “Maybe I like dangerous,” you whispered, your voice shaking with anticipation. 

His hands moved lower, gripping your hips he pushed you back, pressing your back against the desk. 

His lips found yours again, and this time, the kiss was slower, more deliberate. You could feel the heat of his body as he pressed against you, and you moaned softly into his mouth. 

Peter smirked against your lips, his hands sliding down to grip your thighs. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured, his voice husky with desire. 

You shivered at his words, your hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer. “Don’t stop,” you whispered, your voice trembling with need. 

His hands moved to your waistband, slowly sliding your pants down your legs. You stepped out of them, your heart racing as he stood back to admire you. “God, you’re perfect,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. 

His hands found your hips again, pulling you close as he kissed you deeply. You could feel the hardness of his body against yours, and you moaned softly into his mouth. 

“Peter,” you whispered, your voice shaking with desire. He pulled away, his eyes dark with need as he looked down at you. “What do you want?” he asked, his voice husky. You hesitated for a moment, your heart pounding in your chest. But then, with a slow, deliberate smile, you reached for his belt. “You,” you whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation. 

His eyes widened in surprise, but he didn’t stop you. Instead, he let you unbuckle his belt, his hands moving to the hem of your panties. “You’re so fucking sexy, __” he murmured, his voice low and rough. 

You shivered at his words, your fingers trembling as you undid the button on his pants. He stepped out of them, his eyes never leaving yours as he pulled you into another kiss. 

The heat of his body against yours was overwhelming, and you moaned softly into his mouth. “Peter," you whispered, your voice shaking with need. 

He pulled away, his eyes dark with desire as he looked down at you. "Tell me you want this," he said, his voice husky. You hesitated for a moment, your heart racing in your chest. But then, with a slow, deliberate smile, you reached for his cock. "I want you," you whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation. 

Just from the small touch, he let out a small groan. His lips brushed against your ear. "Good," he murmured, his voice low and rough.

 "Because I’m not stopping until you’re screaming my name." You shivered at his words, your fingers trembling as you guided him to your entrance.

The anticipation was killing you, every second feeling like an eternity. "Peter," you murmured, your voice barely audible. "Please." His eyes darkened, and with a low growl, he finally pushed inside you, filling you completely. 

You gasped, your nails digging into his back as he began to move, slow at first, then faster, harder. 

The desk creaked beneath you, but neither of you cared. The only thing that mattered was the feel of him, the way he made you feel alive in a way you never had before. "God, you’re so tight," he groaned, his voice rough with need.

“I cannot get enough of you” You moaned, your hands gripping his shoulders as he thrust into you, each movement sending waves of pleasure through your body. "Peter," you gasped, your voice shaking with need. 

"Don’t stop." He chuckled, the sound low and dangerous. "Not a chance," he murmured, his lips brushing against your neck. "You’re mine now." You shivered at his words, your body trembling with pleasure as he continued to move, each thrust bringing you closer to the edge. 

"I’m close." He smirked, his eyes dark with desire. “Not so fast beautiful,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. "Because I’m not stopping until you’re screaming my name." You shivered at his words, your body trembling with pleasure as he continued to move, each thrust bringing you closer to the edge.

 You shivered at his words, your body trembling with pleasure as he continued to move, each thrust bringing you closer to the edge. "Peter," you gasped, your voice shaky with need as you clung to him. 

"I’m so close." His lips brushed your ear, his voice a growl. "Let go. I’ve got you." And with that, your entire body tensed, pleasure crashing over you like a wave as you came undone beneath him.

 He groaned, his own release following quickly after, not forgetting to pull out of you. His body shuddering against yours. For a moment, you both froze, breaths ragged, hearts pounding as you came down from the high. His forehead rested against yours, and you could feel the faint tremor in his hands as they gripped your hips.

"Guess I lost this round," you murmured, your voice soft and teasing. Peter chuckled, a low, breathless sound that sent a shiver down your spine.

 "Not a loss," he said, his lips brushing against yours. "Just the start of something new." You smiled, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his back. "So, what now?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. He pulled back slightly, his eyes meeting yours. “Now," he said, his voice low and filled with promise, "we see who really has the upper hand tonight… Let me take you downtown for a quick swing.” 

You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at his comment about 'swinging' around the city. Challenged, you nodded in acceptance. He smirked, already eager to one-up you, as your friendly rivalry kicked into high gear once more. 

After quickly getting dressed, you sat down just in time, as the professor walked back into class. It seemed this game of wits would continue, fueled by the tension that lingered between you two.

Mr. Harrington narrowed his gaze at both of you, his stern tone leaving no room for protest. "You two better have put this 'who's smarter' thing behind you."

You and Peter quickly exchanged a knowing look before sharing a mutual chuckle.

"Yeah, we made up, Mr. Harrington. You don't have to worry."

Mr.Harrington reluctantly let the matter drop, resuming the silent detention session. 

MY SHAYLAAAAAAAA!#%$*# - Guys, how did I do? I hope my stories aren't really repetitive but what can I say?? I just know past me would of been sliding down a wall reading this, and that's the best part of this all.

(Credits: 888hnh)

- Please let me know if you want more ᥫ᭡.

[deathbyathousandspiders]

death of a hero. ₂

mcu!peter parker x fem!stark!reader | boy in the bubble part two.

IN WHICH after getting attacked, you find out that your dad & peter have kept spider–man’s identity a secret.

author's note — highly recommend reading part one first!! this cured my writer's block !! part three coming soon!!! :)

WARNINGS (18+ MDNI) — hurt reader [physically/emotionally], swearing, mentions of blood, a flashback to homecoming, lots & lots & lots of angst.

read part one here.

gif found here.

✨masterlist.✨

3.4k.

Never in your life did you think you’d be targeted and attacked, then be smiling by the end of the night. You couldn’t fight the small grin touching your lips, couldn’t stop the butterflies that numbed each wound still scarring your body. 

Somehow, despite it all, Peter’s words gave you something to hold onto, something to keep you going—something hopeful. It gave you something to rewrite the painful narrative that your attacker had spat at you just an hour earlier. 

“What a weak, pathetic excuse for a Stark.”

“You’ve seen the unthinkable, are still going, and you think you’re weak? Impossible.”

Once you finally got to the stairs to shower, you tried to swing your leg up, immediately met with a harsh reminder of how bad your bruises would be tomorrow. 

A wince parted your lips, sparking from the ache in your right hip and the direct strike it sent to the wound on your torso. 

Perhaps you needed Peter’s help after all. 

Taking a breath, you felt less hesitant than before to ask for help. It wasn’t like you had anything else to hide—you were tattered and torn up, topless and sticky with blood. 

Besides, you were used to walking with the weight of the wounds, at this point. You cut the distance to the kitchen in a matter of slow seconds. 

“Whoever attacked her tonight planned this.” Peter’s words made you pause just outside the entryway, hidden behind the wall just beyond. You blinked a bit, immediately feeling the weight of their conversation. “It wasn’t by chance, she was targeted–” 

“You don’t know that—” Even as he cut Peter off, your dad’s response was cut short. 

“And you don’t either!” Both of the boys in the kitchen held something urgent to their words; the same sense of urgency that laced the undertones between them all evening. 

Whatever conversation you were overhearing, you knew in your bones that they didn’t want you to hear it. 

Sucks for them. 

Peter continued: “The way she’s acting.. Something’s off about what happened.” Your blood froze to ice at the sentence. “And I think she deserves to know why I wasn’t there to defend her tonight.”

Thick silence swelled in the room, and you suddenly feared that your racing heartbeat would interrupt it. You had to remind yourself to breathe, and remind yourself to be quiet. 

As tempted as you were to step in and ask questions, you knew that whatever they were keeping from you was more likely to be discovered from where you were. 

Somehow, this was something they wanted to hide from you. The secret, whatever it was, made the air around you feel slimmer and heavy all at once. It sent your thoughts into a spiral, and an urge to question the two people closest to you. 

“Look, kid. I don’t blame you for what happened tonight.” Tony took words from you that you hadn’t even known how to phrase to Peter yet. It sent a twinge to your heart, draped your panic in sympathy for him. 

“I know.” You could tell Peter needed to hear the words, even if he didn’t know how to admit it. 

“As much as I agree with your conspiracy theories on Y/N’s attacker, I don’t know if coming clean about everything will solve this.” 

Something sunk in you, deflated your spirits. It hurt that they’d hid this from you—whatever it was—and had been lying for God knows how long. 

You could hear the jab in Peter’s own optimism when he spoke up again. “Then when do you plan to tell her?” At least, he was trying to come clean. 

“I don’t know..” Your dad was honest, and sullen about it. It only added to your confusion. 

Perhaps, they weren’t going to tell you ever. Maybe if you just revealed yourself and asked your own questions, you’d actually get somewhere. 

Peeling yourself off the wall and taking a few steps into frame, both Peter and your dad were completely oblivious to you. 

Despite how you stepped into view, they remained focused on the conversation, and your dad continued. “I’ll tell you what: you tell me how you’d suggest telling Y/N you’re Spider–Man, and I’ll consider it–”

The whole world stopped moving. 

“Peter’s what?”

You could’ve thrown up at the realization, at how cold and hollow the room suddenly became. The secret was out, and the quick and wide eyes that fell to you told you just how vital this secret was. 

Peter was Spider–Man. 

Even as you stared at him, eyes as wide as his, you couldn’t shake it. Your best friend was Spider–Man, working alongside your father and found family. 

The two of you held eye contact, trying to read the other. You could read the remorse and apology and panic swelling in his wide–eyed stare, but you hoped that some of the anger building in your own was silently translated regardless. 

Your dad tried to clear his throat, tried to slice through the rousing tension between the two of you, but you didn’t break from it in the slightest. 

“Dinner’s ready.” Tony tried to make a joke. To joke at a time like this, as if he wasn’t an accomplice. As if he wasn’t keeping this from you, arguably more than Peter had been. 

It was the last straw you’d been offering, swiped from your hands and dissipating with your patience. 

You scoffed, tears finally finding your eyes. The heat of them was boiled by rage, and you didn’t have the decency to hide it. “Fuck off.” 

The room was too hard to stand in. You walked away, reminded of why you were even standing in the kitchen in the first place. 

Pain itched its way up your priority list, but you didn’t care; finding a way up the stairs was the least of your worries. You were more concerned with how quickly you could get away. 

Especially as you could hear Peter calling after you, following the path you were carving between you. 

“Y/N!” He spoke your name like a plea, like it would somehow apologize for all the dirt you’d uncovered. The sound of his voice, however, only seemed to drive you further from him. 

It split your heart into more pieces than you knew how to count. 

You already battled the insecurity of being weak. A weak, pathetic excuse for a Stark. With all the time you spent in the compound, with your friends and family, you were one of the only powerless people among them. This whole time, you thought Peter understood. 

You thought the insecurity was shared, reciprocated. 

Clearly, you were wrong and an idiot. You were the only one powerless among them. 

It made you feel so stupid; to see all the inside jokes tossed over your head, to see every stupid excuse he made thrown back in your face, and he had the audacity to be sorry?

Damn right, he should be. 

Peter’s touch felt like sandpaper to your skin as he reached for your hand. You yanked it out, not bothering to turn around. 

You tried to be strong and suck up the pain, wanted more than anything to run up the stairs and lock yourself in your room—two quick steps up the stairwell and the adrenaline wore off. You slowed your pace, fighting off the wincing, and wanting anything but to ask for help from Spider–Man. 

“Y/N, please.” His voice broke, and you felt sinister to think him deserving of it. “Please, I– I wanted to tell you, I promise–“

He must’ve been surprised when you turned around, at the speed you pivoted, at how intense your expression came across, because he startled. 

Your eyes held no response to the hot tears flooding from them, only holding space for the anger and hurt you didn’t have the energy to hide from him. 

“Promise?” The word came out whispered, threatening to break just as his words did. “You promise, just like how we promised to tell each other everything?” You saw each stab of each word and exactly where it hit on him, especially as your voice grew in volume. “Just like how you promised I wasn’t weak, when clearly, you know damn well how ironic that is!”

Twin tears slid down the length of his face, and you caught the subtle tremble in his bottom lip that he tried so hard to hide. “Please..” Now he was the one whispering, and you wish it sounded as satisfying as you wanted it to. 

“Don’t fucking sit there and act like you’re the hero here, Peter..” You couldn’t help the growl, couldn’t help the distaste inking down your body. Sure, you’d been hit with a knife just an hour prior in the evening, but you didn’t feel stabbed in the gut until now. “Don’t act like you understand shit about how I’m feeling right now!”

From just beyond, Tony started walking over, stepping quickly. “Hang on, Kid.” He cut in, stopping just a few paces behind Peter. “Don’t blame Peter for this.” His words practically turned up the heat on your burning rage. It was an effort to keep from boiling over. “I was the one who told him to keep quiet.”

The shakiest breath you’d taken all night forced its way down your throat. You finally pulled your eyes from Peter, watching your own father flinch at just how hurt you were. “No, you were the one who decided to be selfish!”

The room had never been so quiet, even the walls and the city beyond hushed to listen. 

“I don’t care who you thought you were saving here, but it wasn’t me.” Perhaps rage wasn’t the word you should use to describe the venom dripping off your words. You were seething, a mixture of betrayal and downright distraught. 

“I am not useless.” You felt the need to emphasize; to you, or the two faulty in front of you, no one could tell. “I may be the only powerless person in the fuck ass Avengers, but at least I’m fucking honest.”

When you met Peter’s eyes again, you almost couldn’t keep your composure. Maybe he was breaking apart just as quickly as you were, but you didn’t put in effort to hold room for an apology for him. You didn’t see the need to give one at all. 

“I’m sorry..” He couldn’t bring his voice above a whisper, above the tremble shaking each breath he took. And watching the way your father’s posture craned in sympathy to it finally gave you a cue to leave. You couldn’t take it anymore. 

You glanced between both of them, still ignoring the consistent stream of tears dripping off your nose and chin. “You both fucking should be.”

Holding your head high, you made your way up the stairs, pausing three steps up your trek when you heard a singular step in your direction. 

“Don’t fucking follow me.”

And you didn’t look back. 

The second you shut and locked your bedroom door, unshakable sobs spilled from your throat and choked you dry. You had never felt so isolated, so alone, and so pained. 

Truly, you did not know how it would get better from here, and all you wanted was to be held. 

You didn’t even know who you'd talk to about this. This betrayal stretched across every person you trusted, further than your eyesight. 

It was stupid, and you blamed yourself, but all you wanted to do was talk to Peter. 

Maybe not about it or to confront it right then, but you suddenly missed him and his support. You felt like that had been stripped away from you. 

You weren't sure how to trust him anymore, let alone anyone else who hid this from you.

It didn’t help that you replayed countless upon countless interactions—with your father, with Ned, and with Peter Parker Spider–Man himself. 

It reminded you of the last time you were mad at Peter, three years prior. 

At the Washington Monument. 

You remember him flaking on the academic decathlon, and flaking the night before. You were upset because he was obviously hiding something and he wouldn’t tell you what. 

“You promised we’d hang out tonight.” You remember calling after him, walking half the length of the hotel hallway after him, too. “I feel like I haven’t seen you all week!”

Peter was a pro at walking backwards, then and now, and as you always knew him to be. Even as you knew him as a klutz, even as it led him to keep walking away from you. “I’ll be back soon. I promise!”

It felt unfair to him to get frustrated with him, but you were. You were upset. “What? So your promises mean nothing?” 

That got him to stop. 

“What? No!” Defense, immediately. His eyes displayed more apology than his lips did, taking steps towards you. “I just.. I have to go, and I can explain it later–”

Your head shook at him. Whatever sparked you to feel upset had been growing for a while. It had been growing since he started ditching you a few months prior. “That’s what you said last time.” There was hurt in your voice, and you know he heard it. 

“But I–”

“We promised to tell each other everything.” You recalled your childhood together, your friendship before you started growing up. The two of you had known each other since elementary school, so changes like this was inevitable. It wasn't fair to hold him to the same standards you used to. “But if you want to go, don’t expect me to be buddy-buddy when you get back.”

You remember how it felt to walk away, but you remembered how it felt to hear him leave even more. That was harmful. 

He was entitled to grow up, just as you were, but the shifty way he started growing distant from you got you overthinking. 

It got you nervous that maybe he was seeing someone, and that hurt more than anything else. Especially that he was hiding it from you. 

What sucked the most was that Peter wasn’t back soon, or even that night. 

In fact, he wasn’t even at the academic decathlon. 

Part of you was relieved to get space from him, seeing how difficult all these feelings were to process; another part worried about him, but every time your anxiety would fester, something would serve a reminder of why you were upset in the first place. 

You won the decathlon without him. As you should.

After that, your team went to the Washington Monument, and Ned swore that Peter would meet you all there. 

“Look!” Ned tried to convince you, tried to break your unamused expression. “His location says he’s almost here.” And the phone screen he flashed at you proved honesty. Peter was minutes away. 

Before you could muster a response, Ned’s screen changed, and Peter was calling him. 

There was an awkward exchange of glances between the two of you before Ned answered the call and you walked through the metal detectors. 

“Peter, are you okay?” You couldn’t help but eavesdrop. You missed a phrase or two while security patted down your blazer. All you caught was Ned muttering a subtle “I covered for you,” and then Liz Allen taking the phone from his hands. 

Something hollow carved into your stomach at the sight, and you began to speculate whether Liz was the girl he was sneaking off with or not. 

You didn’t wait to find out. You walked right into the elevator, joining the rest of your decathlon group. 

You didn’t remember much about the trip up the elevator, all you remember was light emitting out of Ned’s backpack and something radioactive blasting right into the roof of the cart. 

Suddenly, with trembling limbs and a newfound panic, your squabble with Peter Parker seemed more than minuscule. Regret was quick to fill that hollowing pit in your gut. 

You’d blacked out a lot of those scarce moments in the elevator. But you remembered when it was safe enough to move, the security guard began to open the hatch at the top of the elevator cart, and one by one help your classmates out. 

It wasn’t until there were four of you left in the elevator that it finally fell down the shaft towards your demise. There, in that Monument, you would die with Ned, Liz, and your teacher, Mister Harrington, you were sure of it. 

You’d never forget the relief you’d felt at the sight of red and blue rushing toward you, plummeting quicker than you were, and webbing your way to safety. 

It felt odd to look back on, knowing now that it was Peter who pulled that elevator up to your safety. How you were only concerned then with apologizing to Peter Parker, who glanced at you there from beneath that mask, completely unbeknownst to you. 

Once he’d gotten you up to the top of the Monument, Ned was the first to leap out to safety, then Mister Harrington. The two of them helped Liz get out, and to your luck, just as you took a step forward, the webs above you snapped. 

You and Spider–Man fell with a blood curdling scream breaking through you. 

“NO!!” He called after you, and quickly shot a web up to the roof again. His other arm reached out toward you, webbing your wrist rather quickly, keeping you from falling any further. 

“It’s okay. You’re okay– I got you. You're okay..” He told you, his tone as gentle and soft as you knew it to be; yet, not a single thought crossed your mind that it was Peter Parker. 

You shakily dangled beneath him as he tugged you up from that web. You fought to look up at him, to keep yourself from looking down; you fought to keep the tears at bay as the shock flooded from your system. 

The second your hands touched, he pulled you up and into him. You wasted no time before wrapping your arms around him, hugging him for dear life. And it made sense, now, why he felt so familiar—why his warmth was so comforting, and why his arm around your waist felt like it belonged there. 

He held you securely, lulling those reassurances to you, pulling the two of you up to safety at the top of that Monument. 

Just before he set you down, you held him tighter. “Pe–Peter!” You gasped, and felt every muscle beneath your hold tense. 

Now, you knew why. 

You pulled back from his arms, “Peter Parker, my– my best friend! He was on his way over here.” Your voice shook as you explained, but watching him carefully set you on the ground helped to steady yourself a little. “Can you make sure– Could you make sure that he’s okay?”

Looking back, the reason why Spider–Man gaped at you so long must’ve been Peter contemplating whether or not to tell you who he was right then and there. He stared at you, beneath that mask, for what felt like minutes. 

He gave a singular, upside down, nod. “I can do that, ma’am.” And his thick, Bronx, accent threw you off more than you wanted to admit. 

Then he fell down the empty shaft of the elevator. 

You’d never forget the moment he found you after that. 

You had just gotten out of the Monument. With a shaky hand, you went through your phone to track Peter’s location. It said he was a matter of meters from you, but you couldn’t spot him in the crowd. 

Just as you went to ask Ned, Peter’s voice hollered out, calling your name. 

Both of you turned in his direction, the crowd of people parting for him as he ran over to you, catching you in a bone–crushing hug. One of his hands cradled your head into his chest, and the other kept itself snug around your waist, just like Spider–Man had earlier. "I'm so glad you're okay.." He whispered it into your hairline, just for you to keep.

The world washed away in the arms of Peter Parker. You couldn’t help but wrap your arms around him, too, hugging him effortlessly closer. Apologies from your argument the night before fell from your lips, and he also followed suit. 

You recalled that memory as something that defined how you and Peter operated—no matter what, you couldn’t stay mad at him. 

You would always find a way to forgive him. 

Now, remembering the incident was a bit more haunting. There was no telling how you and Peter would come back from this, nor just how long you’d go without each other.

And you didn't think Spider–Man would get you out of it, this time.

tag–list: @yourfavoritefangirl @inkedeye2345 @wxnterwidow333 @generalmoonpolice @elianamarie-blog

comment for the part three tag list;)

[uhhhj13iguess]

oh my god, you, y-you look stunning

avenger!peter parker x fem!reader

peter 'friendly neighborhood spiderman' parker drooling at the sight of you when picking you up for the stark gala. major pining. actually just exclusively pining

wc: ~0.9k

part two: go get her, kid

peter put the finishing touches on his curls, doing his best to follow the instructions tony had given him. he wasn’t used to doing his hair, let aloneused to the rest of his get-up for the evening. peter couldn't remember the last time he'd worn a three-piece suit to something. he had never been to a stark gala before, but he knew it was a bigger deal than anything he could even imagine.

he shot himself one last look in the mirror, running his hands over the custom-tailored jacket tony had gifted him. he’d never admit it, but he understood cashmere now.

he threw his final belongings in his pocket as he did one last sweep of his room and made a hasty exit down the hallway towards your area in the stark compound. he was beyond anxious. every one of his senses was on edge even more than the normal 1000%. he stood in front of your door, hands shaking as he brought his fist to the door to knock gently. he rapped in a succession of five knocks, signaling it was him on the other side.

peter rocked on his heels as he awaited your answer, his impatient mind going a thousand miles an hour.

and suddenly, it was going zero. as soon as peter caught sight of you opening the door, it was the only thing on his mind: past, present, future.

he couldn’t help but let his eyes trail down your figure, taking in the entirety of the grace and elegance that adorned you. you stood in front of him, a gorgeous red silk dress ornamenting your body in the best way possible. you had your hair down, which he rarely ever saw, and suddenly he had a preferred hairstyle on you. everything about you made his breath catch in his throat, and he felt like he was under a spell.

“… peter?”

“oh my god you, y-you look stunning,” peter responded swiftly in practically a moan, mouth hanging agape like the dog you had turned him into.

your face flushed, a smirk creeping on your lips as you reached over to grab your purse.

“you don’t look so bad yourself, pete.”

you stepped out of your doorway, nearly having to push him backwards to leave your room.

you laughed, “are you ready to head out?”

peter nodded his head eagerly, bowing his arm out for you to link. you did so contently, and the two of you made your way to the elevator, nerves overpowering as you walked with him.

the tension between the two of you was thick, both walking through the compound with aching silence. your heels echoed against the tile as you made your way to the main entrance where happy was waiting with a car. you looked up at peter as you made your way into the lobby, his head turning immediately to look at you as he caught your glance in his peripheral. the moment your eyes locked, every last bit of air was vacuumed from your lungs. you could tell he felt the same way, his adam's apple bobbing as he took a heavy swallow. you gave him a smile, but not an innocent one at that. no, he knew the smile was filled with intention. he only hoped he was right about what said intention was.

happy's loud clap snapped them out of their trance. "okay! you two are not the only ones i have to pick up, so if we could just, pause the weird horny moment and get in the car, that would be awesome."

peter's cheeks flushed immediately, shocked with himself at how easily he was completely and utterly distracted by you. you had him under a spell, he was sure of it, but he couldn't seem to care.

you laughed and apologized to happy, rushing peter towards the limo. he ran ahead of you to grab the door, holding your hand as you lowered yourself into the vehicle. you looked up at your hand in his, the feeling of his skin on yours burning your senses. he looked so good in his suit, so strong and big. you shook yourself free from the trance, scooting further in to allow peter room on the seat.

he slid in after you, shutting the door behind him and never breaking eye contact. he let out a shaky breath and chewed on the inside of his lip, forcing himself to take deep breaths even just looking at you.

he was snapped out, jumping in his seat at the sound of a door slamming, signaling happy in the driver's seat. he looked up to make eye contact with him in the rearview mirror and let out a huff of air at seeing the older man wink at him before rolling up the privacy screen.

he stopped it an inch before closing, "sam and bucky will be in that backseat in less than five minutes. behave yourselves."

tempted to part 2 to this with little plot, full smut because needy and pussywhipped peter is just gorgeous

[ifortom]

WINTER AHEAD (1/2) T.H.

Summary: An unexpected pregnancy at 21 completely changes the lives of two young people. Over time, their paths diverge, and their hearts bear the pain of separation. Yet, the life born from their love keeps them unbreakably connected, showing that some bonds transcend time and differences. Also, it’s Christmas time!

A/N: I wrote this suddenly and couldn’t stop, but it will be divided into two parts because it took a different turn than I expected. Oh, and I know Christmas is already over, but my brain only started working after the festivities ended. I brought up some topics in this text that might be sensitive and cause some discomfort, but in the next chapter, some things will be explained.

The sound of the door opening, along with soft footsteps on the carpet, woke you up on yet another winter morning. Shortly after, you could feel the new weight on the blanket covering you, preventing the cold from reaching you.

"Mummy, are you awake?" The sleepy, drowsy voice reached your ears, and small fingers gently touched your face.

Delicate fingers gently trace imaginary lines on your face, attempting to wake you up.

"Mummy, come on. Daddy will be here soon."

It’s possible to detect the faint hint of desperation beginning to emerge in the little one's voice, as he spares no tactic to wake you up.

Stretching your arms without opening your eyes, you wrap Ethan in the blanket, eliciting a loud laugh from him.

"Oh no, help!" he shouts amid his laughter.

"This is an attack from the blanket monster!" you say, deepening your voice as you join in the game Ethan invented a few years ago.

As he tries to escape from the blanket you’ve wrapped him in, you attack with tickles, making him squirm uncontrollably on the bed.

"Mummy, please!" he says, laughing.

"Mummy? There’s no Mummy here, only the blanket monster."

"But I need my mum."

"Then do you surrender?"

"Yes, yes, please!" he says, and you release him, throwing your own body onto the bed and closing your eyes. When you feel Ethan stretch out over you, you open your eyes and smile at him.

"Oh, good morning, E."

"Good morning, Mummy! I was attacked by the blanket monster."

"Really? And did you defeat him?"

"Hm, not this time."

"Ah, that's okay. I bet the blanket monster had all his meals today, that's why he was so strong this time," you say, sitting up and pulling his little body close to yours. Ethan sits on your lap, his legs wrapped around your waist and his head resting on your chest as you lean back against the headboard of the bed.

Your hand gently pats his back, soothing him even more. No matter how much he grows, his mother's lap will always be his favourite place.

You bring your face closer to the top of his head and inhale the scent of baby shampoo coming from his soft hair.

Ethan may be just a few months away from turning 6 and becoming more independent in his routine, but to you, little E will always be the baby who cried loudly the first time you held him in your arms at 21.

From the moment you discovered you were pregnant, you knew life would never be the same, but the feeling of holding a newborn in your arms just minutes after he took his first breath of air was almost like a cold shower.

Since that moment, life took a new direction. There was no longer just Y/N. Now it would be Y/N and Ethan.

And Tom.

And as always, life spins in unexpected ways, and suddenly everything changes. Some things no longer seem to be enough.

After a few minutes in the same position, Ethan starts to move, and you release him to look at him.

"Can we have hot chocolate today?" he asks.

"Wasn't that our breakfast yesterday?"

"I know, but..." He turns his face, staring at the window. "I'm going to miss it."

He doesn't specify, but you understand what he means. It's the weekend, which means Ethan will spend the next few days away from home. Your home.

"I'm sure Daddy can make hot chocolate for you if you ask him."

"He makes it, but it's not like yours," he says, pouting.

"Ah, boy, stop trying to convince me with that face, you know it just makes me want to squeeze you!" you say, excited, wrapping him in your arms and hugging him tightly, covering his cheeks with kisses. "Go put on a sweater and let's have our breakfast, okay? Daddy will be here soon."

He nods and wriggles out of your arms, jumping off the bed and running toward his room. You get up and head to the bathroom, tying your hair back and washing your face to shake off the sleepiness.

When you reach the kitchen of the small apartment, Ethan is already trying to climb onto one of the stools at the counter—a thing you've already scolded him for trying to do on his own.

"What have I told you about asking for help?" you ask, approaching him and helping him sit on the stool.

"Sorry," he mumbles, then starts watching your movements as you gather the ingredients needed.

"Are you excited?" you ask, distracted.

"I am! Daddy said we're going to see the snow and the big Christmas tree. And then we're going to see Grandpa and Grandma."

This is a tradition of Ethan's that has been kept since his first Christmas, even though he was too young to understand. The photo on the wall serves as a constant reminder. Every Christmas, you would take him to the city center, where the Christmas tree was set up and the decorations lit up everything around.

However, the tradition of strolling through the city center during the festive season began long before Ethan ever thought about being born.

At 16, Tom took you for the first time to see the Christmas lights. According to him, it was just a walk among friends, but both of you knew that day meant so much more than that. After all, it was the day of your first kiss.

"This isn't a date," he said, intertwining his fingers with yours.

"Tom, I believe what we're doing qualifies as a date," you laugh.

"No, you deserve something better and bigger. You can consider this a date, fine, but we'll do more things and I'll take you to other places. I promise. A more exclusive place, too! There are too many people here," he says, looking around, and you laugh, pulling him closer and wrapping one of your arms that wasn't holding his around his neck.

"Any place with you is exclusive."

It’s been two years since you and Tom decided to go separate ways. For some reason, the relationship began to fade. It wasn’t for lack of love or affection for each other. But the heavy workload and raising a baby while still so young interfered with the future you had envisioned at 20, before Ethan became a matter that needed to be discussed.

Ethan was never considered a burden by either of you, but everything had to be reconsidered the moment you held the positive pregnancy test in your hands. Studies had to be put on hold for a while, and Tom had to find a full-time job that paid more than the part-time one he had at the time. In addition, he still needed to make time for his college studies. You also helped as much as you could during the pregnancy, taking online design courses that provided you with some work during that time.

Your parents were shocked, as were his, but they never denied their help. They were the support both of you needed in those first years. They helped with the payment of the first rent for the small apartment you found, and Tom made sure to pay them back as soon as he was able.

But their shock was even greater when they received the news that you and Tom were separating, instead of the engagement they had hoped would happen. Your mother, who had been so in love with Tom back then, cursed him with every name possible for neglecting the family he was starting to build. She demanded that he take responsibility for the consequences of his actions.

As you cried from the pain reflected in her words, you explained that it was a mutual decision. There was nothing more to be done. Tom also made it clear that he wasn’t abandoning anyone, he was just going to move out, and you two would no longer be a couple. But Ethan would remain the main reason for your relationship after the breakup.

He kept his promise and never let anything be lacking for his son. He is present and raises Ethan as a father should. But Ethan is still a child, one who learns everything with increasing ease. This means he has already questioned why mommy and daddy don’t live together.

Despite him enjoying having two different homes.

After Ethan finishes breakfast, he asks for permission to watch a cartoon on the living room TV, and you take the opportunity to change clothes and freshen up. Then, you go to Ethan's room, select his outfit for going out, and check the bag he packed the night before. Although he has his own things at his father's house, Ethan still spends most of his time with you, so there are always more things at your place. You add a few jumpers and socks to his backpack and call him to change clothes.

"Let me smell your breath," you say after helping him put on his socks. Ethan opens his mouth, and you bring your face closer to his. "Oh my god!" you exaggerate, acting shocked. "What on earth do you have living in that mouth?" Ethan laughs. "Go brush your teeth now, young man."

He quickly gets up, runs to the bathroom, adjusts the little stool so he can reach the sink, and closes the door. Privacy. The doorbell rings, and Ethan lets out a little squeal.

"It's Daddy!" he says, opening the bathroom door, his mouth covered in toothpaste.

"Hey, finish brushing your teeth, little monster. I'll open the door." He nods and returns to the task, doing it even faster, eager to see his dad.

You take a deep breath and walk toward the door, already knowing what you'll find when you open it. Tom hasn't changed much. Despite the marks on his face being more visible, he still carries the same boyish expression. The same one you once fell hopelessly in love with.

"Hey, I know I arrived a bit too early, but everyone’s excited to see him," he says, one hand going behind his head, scratching his neck. He’s wearing a heavy coat, which shows just how cold it is outside the apartment and building.

"Hi, no problem. You know he's also dying of anticipation," you laugh awkwardly. "Come on in, he's just finishing getting ready."

Tom steps through the door, and nostalgia hits him hard. When he moved out, he thought you’d probably look for another place too—maybe somewhere a little bigger, with three bedrooms and an office so you could work from home. At least, that’s what you both had planned while you were still together. He knows he wouldn’t have been able to stay in a place filled with so many memories if it had been you moving out instead of him.

He notices some changes in the place—the photos that used to feature three people have been taken down from the walls and shelves. Most of them now only show Ethan, with just a few including you. He spots one photo, though, showing your family and his, probably from Ethan's birthday.

This isn’t the first time he’s been inside your home since the breakup. He’s picked up and dropped off Ethan numerous times, including a few occasions when Ethan had a stomach ache and wanted to sleep in your bed. But he had never taken the time to look around. The strange, awkward air between you both always prevented him from examining how you chose to change things after he left.

But he seized the opportunity when you turned your back after saying you’d quickly check something in the laundry area. Unsure of what to do, Tom sat down on the sofa, while you hid near the washing machine, taking deep breaths to prevent the tears from escaping without permission.

No matter how much time passes, Tom holds a piece of your heart that you still haven’t been able to fill. Not with anyone else, nor with yourself. When everything ended, you truly believed that having Ethan would be enough. And he is more than enough. But Tom is unforgettable. Having him so close and still sharing something so precious with him sends shivers down your spine.

Because he’s right there. Just a few steps away. And he’s no longer yours.

The sharp sound of Ethan’s excited voice pulls you back, and you take a deep breath about three times, trying to slow your heart. You swipe your thumb under your eyes, drying any trace of tears.

"E, did you change your shirt?” you ask as you return to the living room, seeing Ethan sitting on the floor, showing Tom a new puzzle he got.

“Yes, I accidentally spilled water while brushing my teeth, Mom,” he says. “Sorry.”

“Oh, no problem, my love.” You move closer, crouch down, and kiss the top of his head. “Well done for changing it all by yourself.” He smiles and shifts his attention back to his dad, who keeps his eyes fixed on him.

You let Ethan and Tom talk on their own for a while and take the opportunity to wash the breakfast dishes.

It’s clear that Ethan prefers having this moment at home, without the rush and hurry of needing to leave right away. That’s why Tom always tries to arrive a little earlier than planned, as if to ease the transition between locations for the coming days.

A few minutes later, Tom's voice catches your attention.

"Y/N, can you come here?" You dry your hands and walk into the living room.

Ethan is sitting with his back to Tom, leaning on the coffee table, playing with a plastic robot.

"What's wrong?" you ask. Tom stands up from the sofa and takes your hand, pulling you a little away from the scene.

"He doesn’t want to go."

"What do you mean, he doesn’t want to go? A few hours ago, he was all excited."

"I noticed, but it’s been almost an hour since I arrived, and when I mentioned that we needed to go, he just turned his back and said he didn’t want to go." Tom’s unfocused, disoriented look tightens your chest.

The duration of Ethan's stays with each of you was never decided. One of the things you both agreed on was that the courts wouldn’t be involved at this stage—you both believed you could communicate and decide how Ethan’s custody would work. Tom spends a lot of time at his father’s beverage company, which makes it harder for him to connect with Ethan during the week. Your job is more flexible, allowing you to work from home and have more free time. However, Tom still asks to spend time with Ethan during the week on occasion and also picks him up from school when needed.

This is a new moment, one that neither of you may know how to handle. It’s never happened before. You gently touch Tom’s arm and walk around him to approach Ethan, sitting down beside him on the floor. The moment you do, he turns his head, resting it on the table.

"Bubba?" You use his favourite nickname. "Can you look at mommy?" Your hand strokes his back, but he stays in the same position, unresponsive. "Can we talk? Daddy said you were upset." With that, Tom moves closer and sits on the sofa behind you.

"Come on, bean. We’re here with you."

Ethan’s accumulated a series of nicknames throughout his life, even during pregnancy. Bean being one of them. And the fact that Tom used it now feels like a low blow, especially to you. After all, it was the way you both referred to him throughout the entire pregnancy.

"What’s bothering you?" No response. "Do you remember what you told me earlier? Daddy’s going to take you to see the snow and the Christmas tree. Grandma and Grandpa will be there too."

"Uncle Harry, Sam, and Paddy too. They’re all waiting for you," Tom adds.

Ethan's small shoulders begin to tremble, causing even more panic in both of you, who exchange a glance before turning your attention back to the little one. Slowly, Ethan starts to sob quietly, and your instinct is to pick him up and comfort him right away. But Tom places his hand on your arm, stopping you, and you look at him in disbelief.

"E, you need to tell us what’s going on."

"I don't want to go," he finally replies.

"Ethan, I need you to tell me why," Tom says.

"I don't want to go," he repeats.

"Right, we get it. But this was our agreement, remember? We have a lot to do at home."

"Mummy," Ethan says, sitting up and turning towards you.

"Bubba, why don’t you want to go with Daddy?" you ask gently. He moves closer to you and throws himself into your lap, wrapping his legs around your body and his arms around your neck, burying his face against you. Tom runs a hand over his face, unsure of what to do as the sound of Ethan’s crying grows louder, filling the room.

You look at Tom without knowing what to say, and he seems just as uneasy about the situation. Ethan has never refused to go out with him before. Could it be that the time he spends with Ethan isn’t enough? Tom looks like he’s ready to start an argument that won’t end anytime soon, judging by the expression on his face. You stand up, holding Ethan even closer to your body.

"I need to calm him down. Can you wait or come back later?" you ask.

"What? Y/N, no. You know I always come early just to avoid situations like this. Everyone is waiting for us at home. I need to go, and I need to take him with me." With that, Ethan clings even tighter to you. Tom notices, and rejection washes over his face.

"I'm sure everyone will understand. Do as you wish, but right now, my priority is him," you say, looking at him before turning away and walking to Ethan's little room. The bed, which he had tried to make himself, is cozy enough for you to lie down with him.

Ethan has always shown preferences and behaviours different from other children his age. This concerned you and led you to seek professional help. The paediatrician conducted some tests and recommended starting psychological treatment. A few sessions have already taken place, and Mia, the child psychologist, has had several conversations with you.

Throughout the entire separation period, what concerned you the most was Ethan's reaction and how all these changes would affect him.

Even though he was only three years old when it all happened, he witnessed small arguments between you and Tom, which, despite your best efforts to avoid, could not be entirely prevented. After that, the constant moving from one place to another undoubtedly made it difficult for him to identify with a single place.

Mum’s house, Dad’s house.

Where is Ethan’s home?

This was a question raised by the psychologist, and it has never left your mind since.

Ethan’s tiny fingers wrapped around your neck found the chain you rarely take off. He traced its path to the front, touching the small letter 'E' pendant. A gift from Tom when you both decided on the baby’s name. Some things are hard to leave behind.

You waited until his breathing steadied, making sure he had fallen asleep, before getting up.

The plan was to head to the living room and call Tom to let him know that Ethan had fallen asleep and it would probably be better to come back later. But as you stepped into the hallway, you found Tom sitting on the sofa, his head resting against the back, legs spread, shoulders slumped. Tired. That’s the word that best describes Tom Holland’s body language at that moment.

He slowly lifted his head as he heard you approach. You sat down next to him, your legs touching.

"He’s asleep."

"I figured that would happen."

"The psychologist said he might have issues related to this change in routine." Tom sighed.

Of course, he knows about the psychotherapy sessions Ethan has been attending. His consent is required, after all. But he has never attended a single parental guidance session, something that fills you with frustration.

"Do you think we’re doing something wrong?" you ask.

"I don’t know. Maybe?"

"He wasn’t supposed to be caught in the middle of all this mess."

"What do you want to do now, Y/N? We can’t change the past," he replies sharply.

"Hey, what’s going on with you? Where’s all this harshness coming from?" Tom takes a deep breath and leans his head back on the sofa again, staring at the ceiling.

"My son doesn’t want to go home with me. That’s all. He was fine, and then, out of nowhere, he turned his back on me. When I ask him something, he doesn’t respond." He looks at you now. "I didn’t tell you before because it was resolved, but two weeks ago, that Wednesday when you were stuck at work and asked me to pick him up from school… When he saw me—when he realised it wasn’t you—he didn’t want to leave. It was horrible for me because people were watching, and I’ve never seen Ethan cry as much as he did that day." He lets out a bitter laugh.

"Tom…"

"The teachers tried to talk to him, but it was like I was a stranger taking him away. In the end, he agreed to come with me when I said we were going home, but he misunderstood. When he realised we were going to my house, he started crying again." He looks down at the floor. "It took ages for him to stop. That’s why, when you came to pick him up, he was asleep—because he was exhausted from crying so much." Finally, he looks at you, tears in his eyes.

"Tommy."

"I did everything wrong. I tried to give my best, always, but it’s never enough. I wasn’t the best for you, and look what happened." He looks away. "And now my son doesn’t even want to stay with me."

"Hey, hey. Look at me." You gently place a hand on his arm. "Tom, this isn’t your fault. This is all new for both of us, just as it is for him."

"I should have fought harder for us," he murmured.

Gently, you place a hand on his face, pulling him closer. The two of you adjust on the sofa, settling into a position that feels both comfortable and familiar. Tom nestled in your arms, his head resting against your chest, just the way Ethan often does. One of his arms wraps tightly around your waist, holding you close, while your hand soothingly traces along his back.

As the two of you remain wrapped up in each other for an indeterminate amount of time, you try not to dwell on Tom’s words.

How different would things be if he hadn’t given up on trying? It’s not fair to place all the blame on him, but reflecting on past events, he was the first to show that he no longer had an interest in keeping the relationship alive.

During your time apart, you heard about Tom being involved with other women. But none of them were serious enough to be introduced to Ethan—or to you.

The sound of Tom’s phone ringing on the coffee table pulls you back to reality. When Tom doesn’t move to answer it, you lean forward, trying to see who’s calling. But as you do, Tom tightens his arms around you.

"It’s your mum."

"Let it ring."

"Aren’t they expecting you?" you ask, settling back into the sofa.

"I don’t think I have good news," he mutters.

Your hands find their way to his hair, gently massaging, offering comfort in the only way you know how at that moment.

The phone rings a few more times before the call drops, only to start again 20 seconds later.

"I think you should answer," you say, and he mutters something unintelligible. "I can talk to her if you want." Tom simply lets go of you, slumping back onto the sofa. You get up, pick up his phone, and walk into the kitchen before answering.

"Hi, Nikki."

"What? Who is this? Y/N?" she says, startled.

"Yes, it’s me."

"Did something happen, dear? Where’s Tom?"

"Um, we had a situation here, but don’t worry—it’s all fine now."

"Are you sure? How’s Ethan?" she asks nervously.

"He… well, he didn’t want to leave. We tried talking to him, but it didn’t help much. He eventually fell asleep."

"Oh, poor little thing," she says, sighing. "And you, my dear? How are you?"

"I…" Hearing the concern in her voice, your eyes well up with tears. "I don’t know what to do. Tom is heartbroken. Seeing them both like this hurts me so much, Nikki."

"Oh, sweetheart, I know it does. But you need to take care of yourself too, Y/N. Stop thinking you have to handle all of this on your own. I know what it’s like to raise a child, and I know Tom tries so hard to be part of it all, but after everything that happened… he’s distant."

"It’s been two years, Nikki. Why can’t we move past this?"

"Because there’s still love," she responds quickly. "I’ll never fully understand what happened between you two. Maybe the responsibility became too much, maybe you lost yourselves along the way. Focusing solely on the child became your priority, and you forgot to nurture that love. I don’t know."

"I don’t know either." "And you were so young when Ethan came along, Y/N. You both had to rewrite an entire life you had planned together, remember?" You sigh deeply at her words. "You wanted to graduate college together, start working, save enough to take a trip, just the two of you… there were so many plans, I can’t even list them all. If it wasn’t you telling me about them, it was Tom."

More tears streamed uncontrollably down your face, and you covered your mouth to stifle any sound, not wanting to alarm Tom in the living room. "I heard so much about you two…" She sighed as well. "And the truth is, you’re still young, learning something new every day. And now, you’re also teaching someone else—someone loving, intelligent, and full of so much heart. Ethan is made of both of you, my dear."

"I’m so afraid something will happen to him, Nikki. He’s so little, and I just… I can’t hurt him like this." "Y/N, you’re doing your best. Every time I see that boy, he shows me something new about his personality that surprises me so much. You’ve done an amazing job. But you also need to take care of yourself. And I’d be so happy if you allowed my son to help you in that process."

"Thank you, Nikki. That means a lot." "I’ll always be here for you. I’ll talk to everyone here about it and wait for Tom to let me know what we’re doing today, alright?"

"Alright. Thank you again."

"You’re welcome, dear." And with that, she hung up.

Without a second thought, you walk back into the living room. Tom is still in the same position, only lifting his head when he notices you standing in front of him. His gaze lands on your tear-streaked face and red eyes.

"What happened?" he asks, standing up and gently holding your face in his hands.

"Can you carry Ethan without waking him and take him to my room?" you ask, holding his wrists. He nods and lets his hands drop from your face before moving towards Ethan.

You make your way to your bedroom while Tom goes to fetch Ethan from his room. You pull down the blinds, dimming the light filtering into the space. Tom enters, carefully carrying Ethan, and places him in the centre of the bed.

Gently, you settle on the right side, straightening up before resting your head on the pillow. Tom stands there, unsure of what to do, watching you without reaction. Finally, you extend a hand toward him. He gets the message, takes off his shoes, and lies down on the side that used to be his when you shared this bed. You don’t let go of his hand for a second. Instead, you pull it closer, guiding it to wrap around Ethan’s small body nestled between you.

"I miss you so much," Tom whispered. A small smile appeared on your face.

"We’ll talk later, okay? For now, let’s just enjoy our little Bean."

[im-sleepdeprived]

Your page says requests are open, so I'm sorry if I missed something 🙏🏻 Could you possibly do Peter Parker (preferably TASM) and friend reader who has a pet jumping spider that she named after him (bc she's crushing bad)? I think it would be funny if she didn't know he was Spider-man. ❤️

this is actually the cutest thing ever i loved writing this😭 hope you enjoy the little blurb !! no warnings just tooth rotting fluff and some deep, deep pining !!

“Look!” You exclaimed, holding up a see-through container filled with dirt, grass, and twigs, housing your newly acquired pet.

Peter leaned down to peer into it. “He’s adorable.”

You beamed. “I know right!” You’d always had a fascination for critters, but especially arachnids. Hence the tiny jumping spider in your hands right now. Peter found it precious when you rambled on about your love for spiders, not knowing that your very best friend (and long time admirer) was, in part, one. He always felt a little special. 

He knew it was stupid, you were never talking about him. Hell, you had no clue he was Spider-Man. But still. Usually everyone was freaked out about spiders, people hated them, even him (before the bite) and yet you managed to see the beauty in them. What other people found gross and freaky you found intriguing. 

You’d been over the moon this past week since you found out there were jumping spiders finally available  (he never would’ve guessed it, but apparently they were popular pets) at your local reptile store, (you were also adamant about not getting one from a big chain store). 

“I named him after you,” you admitted a little bashfully.

“Oh?” Peter could feel his heart speed up. Maybe his secret wasn’t as well protected as he thought it was. 

“His eyes, see?” You moved the container closer to him and placed your index finger on it, tapping gently. “He’s got those two big ones in the front and these ones on the side.” More tapping from your finger. “He reminded me of you when you wear glasses,” you giggled sweetly.

Peter felt his heart soar. “Yeah?” He smiled wide. “Well I’ve gotta say I’m honored, I know how long you’ve wanted one.”

“Yeah,” you beamed. You always appreciated that Peter let you ramble on about your favorite things, no matter how weird they were. You knew it was an unconventional interest, and yet he never made you feel different or odd they were. It only made you fall that much more in love with him. 

“Did you know that the males perform special dances for the females to get them to mate with them?”

You side-eyed Peter, impressed with his knowledge. Usually you were the one hitting him with random facts. “No, actually, I didn’t know that. Could you imagine if humans did that?” You laughed.

“Well isn’t that whats going online these days? With all those dance trends and ‘thirst traps’.” He made quotation marks with his fingers on that last part, making you laugh again.

“I wonder if Spider-Man does that,” you pondered. 

“What do you mean?” Peter’s brows furrowed. 

“I mean, isn’t he part spider or something? That’s how he can climb walls and stuff, right? And isn’t it why his name is literally Spider-Man. I just wonder how many spider traits he actually possesses.”

“Not the webs, the webs are artificial.” He answered you simply, eyes going wide when he noted the curious look you gave him. “Oh! I mean—I think I heard it—READ IT! Yeah,” he cleared his throat, “I read it somewhere.” Everyday it was getting harder and harder to keep this secret from you. 

“Okay weirdo,” you chuckled. “It was between you and him.” You said suddenly.

“Me and who?” Peter asked. 

“You and Spider-Man,” you said as if it made all the sense in the world. You tapped the small box in your hands again. “I almost named little Petey here Spider-Man cause I thought it was cute.”

Peter crossed his arms and smirked at you. “Really?” He thought it was the sweetest thing he’d ever heard. If you weren’t careful, he was going to pull out his suit right now and tell you everything. Well, either that or kiss the living daylights out of you. He reallyyy wanted that last one to happen. “And why didn’t you?”

“Well Spider-Man great and all, don’t get me wrong, saving the city and all,” you made a gesture with your hands, “but you’re my best friend Pete. Of course I’d pick you.”

Peter stood shocked. Honestly, he didn’t deserve you and all your kindness. Everyone loved Spider-Man, no one really cared about Peter. No one but you apparently.

“Now,” you grinned wickedly, “wanna take Peter 2.0 out the box and see how far he can jump?”

He scoffed, “Can’t believe you even have to ask sweetheart.”

“Great,” you handed him the container,” you go first. I wanna get a picture of you and your name twin!”

Peter laughed sweetly and looked down at his ‘name twin’ lounging leisurely on his little twig. Slowly, Peter lifted the lid and placed his finger beside Peter 2.0, allowing the spider, about the size of his fingernail, to crawl onto the tip of his finger. 

He slowly lifted his wrist out the box and looked over to where you stood, camera in hand, grinning wide. “I took your camera, hope that’s okay.” You said sweetly. 

“Yeah, it fine.” he wanted to tell you you could anything of his you wanted.

“Cool,” you held the camera up and positioned the viewfinder so it was in front of your eye. “Okay…Smile in 1…2…” you squealed. 

Peter hadn’t noticed, too busy ogling at you and how beautiful you looked using his camera like that, but your jumping spider had, well….jumped. 

“Peter!” You yelled. 

“Me or him?”

You burst into giggles, Peter (human) following suit. 

[ptergwen]

hi ! i had a dream like this so idk if its too specific or anything hut could u write a fluff/angst about reader being in a beach holiday with family/peter, theyre at the beach swimming and being all cute underwater and stuff- peter tries to hold/grab reader and accidentally hurts them bc of his super strength. theyre mad at him for a bit but they make up that night with heaps of fluff, cuddles, words of affirmation-ect. sorry if thats dumb fhdgdgf thank youuu <33

a boy who's jacked and kind

w/c: 1,109

warnings: a very sorry and sad peter, like two swears

a/n: peep the sabrina reference hehe i had a lot of fun with this one! decided to make it a beach day with friends, i hope that's okay & you enjoy <3

"marco!"

"polo!"

you and your friends scatter around the ocean while peter tries to catch you. you're at the beach for the day, which is exciting because you don't get to go often living in the city. peter pushes through the water with his eyes closed, hands outstretched in front of him. if he catches one of you, he wins.

"marco!"

peter is getting closer to you and ned. mj is the farthest away, deeper into the ocean. she silently signals for the two of you to swim towards her.

"polo!"

you all shout in unison. ned wades through the water frantically, mj continuing to swim in the opposite direction. you're not as quick to pick up on her guidance. you won't be able to make it to the two of them without peter catching you, so you keep swimming the other way.

"marco!"

"polo!"

ned and mj sound kind of far, but you seem to be close. peter follows your voice with a smirk, eyes still squeezed shut.

"marco!"

you can hear peter getting close from behind you.

"polo!"

you look behind your shoulder to see peter nearing you.

"go, y/n!" mj shouts. "run!" ned echoes.

"marco!"

you can't help but let out a giggle as peter gets closer and closer. you leave the water and start running on the wet sand, your boyfriend right on your trail.

"polo!"

peter tackles you from behind, pushing you down and landing beside you. you squeal and land in the sand, hard. it knocks the wind out of you. peter laughs softly and rolls on top of you.

"i win."

your lip quivers a bit, tears pricking your eyes reflexively from the pain of the fall. peter's cocky demeanor instantly changes, going into concerned boyfriend mode.

"baby, what's wrong?"

he catches a stray tear with his thumb, his lips forming a frown.

"why're you crying?"

peter's thumb caresses your cheek. you shoo his hand away.

"i’m not, that just fuckin' hurt. can you get off me?"

peter rolls off of you, watching you get to your feet with furrowed brows.

"oh no, baby, i'm sorry. i just got caught up in the game... i didn't realize how hard i pushed you."

"you have super strength, peter."

you brush the sand off yourself, sniffing back a mixture of salt water and snot. peter's voice quiets.

"sometimes i forget."

"yeah, i know. it's fine."

"but i feel bad." peter stands up. "are you okay?"

he reaches for your hand. you shrug and pull it away, crossing your arms over your chest.

"i'm fine, pete. just gimme a little while."

mj and ned meet you and peter on the sand. they form a circle with you, peter staying back. his eyes remain fixed on you, filled with worry.

"what happened, you let penis parker win? i thought we had a plan," mj jokes. "yeah, why'd you go rogue? we were supposed to stick together," ned agrees.

"i went the other way 'cause i wasn't gonna get to you guys fast enough, then peter tackled me."

their gazes shift over to peter, who sheepishly scratches the back of his neck.

"dude!" ned punches peter's shoulder playfully. "major foul."

"it was an accident," peter mumbles, rubbing his shoulder.

"sure it was," mj deadpans.

peter is looking at you again, but you avoid looking at him. mj picks up on the tension between the two of you.

"hey, you good?"

"i'm kinda annoyed at peter. it hurt when he pushed me. i know he didn't mean to, but still, you know?"

"what a dumbass. come on, let's go get ice creams or something."

you give mj a half smile, throwing an arm around her shoulders. mj flips peter off as you two pass by him. ned starts yapping to peter about building the perfect sandcastle, but he doesn't listen. he's too distracted by his guilt over hurting you.

-

you're sleeping over at peter's later that night. you'd gotten back from the beach a little while ago, and nothing sounds better than cuddling up in bed with him. he had been trying to give you space since the tackling incident, careful not to be too touchy out of fear of hurting you again.

you feel bad for being kind of cold to him. even though you were upset in the moment, you got over it. you miss him being his usual touchy self. it's peter who's been choosing to distance himself.

peter lets you shower first, then he takes one. he finds you waiting on his bed after. you're wearing one of his hoodies and a pair of boxers.

"c'mere, i wanna cuddle."

"you sure?"

"of course. why wouldn't i be?"

"i just wanna make sure you have enough space. y'know, after earlier."

you groan.

"i’m serious, y/n. i hate that i hurt you."

"peter," you stand up.

"and i’m sorry. really, really sorry. i’m never gonna let anything like that happen ever again, okay? i wasn't thinking."

"i know, peter. accident's happen, baby."

your arms circle around peter's shirtless torso. he doesn't trust himself to hold you just yet, so he keeps his arms at his sides.

"just because it was an accident doesn't make it okay."

you take peter's arms yourself and wrap them around you. his doe eyes meet yours. you hold his gaze reassuringly, an arm around his neck and a hand cupping his cheek.

"i like that you have super strength."

"you do?"

"yeah. it makes me feel safe, knowing you can always protect me. plus, you've got big arms. that's hot."

peter chuckles, perking up at that.

"sometimes you can't help how strong you are. i get it, pete. it's not your fault."

you nudge peter's nose with yours. peter moves in closer to you, letting out a sigh of relief. he kisses your forehead, lips lingering there for a moment.

"thank you. i love you."

"i love you, too."

you leave a kiss on the bridge of his nose.

"sorry i was kinda mean to you earlier. it was just my first reaction."

"no, no. it's okay, baby. i’m the only one who should be sorry."

"stop apologizing. you don't have to be sorry anymore."

"but i am. i’m still really sorry i-"

you shove at peter's chest, making him fall backwards onto the bed, mimicking the way he tackled you earlier. you straddle his lap and take his face in your hands, giggling. peter carefully holds you on top of him by your sides. you lean forward so you're face to face.

"i forgive you."

you connect yours and peter's lips. he happily kisses you back, smiling into it.

tags (old taglist y'all sorry, gotta make a new form!):

@idkeverythingistakennn @just-lost-inbetween-worlds @lnmp89 @mystic-writings @jenoslov @crvshnburnn @yourlocalomlette @starlight-starks @belovasheart @liltimmyst @eviewriites @hollandsangel @parkerctrl @eichenhouseproperty @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @varshhyy @elllebutnotwoods @magicalxdaydream @tayyx @parkerdadda @valluvsu @ronweasleysslut @peterficrecs @winchestersgirl222 @sunf1ower-vol6 @fishingirl12 @raajali3 @niktwazny303 @marvelgurl @thismessymasterpiece @alina02 @sapphic_romanoff @itsjanedeluca @lomlbuckyy @prancerrparkerr @urfayevorite @getwellsoontana

[starboye]

Kinktober Day 9

starring: tom holland x male reader

request: tom holland edging male reader so much

warnings: smut, cursing, crying, edging, teasing, slight brat taming, sub and dom, pet names

"ah ah don't you dare move that hand" tom tuts moving your hand back down to his thigh, he was sat behind you, leaned onto the head board with you firmly pressed against his chest, his hand wrapped around you cock stroking it slowly.

it was so painfully slow that it was ticking you off, you wanted to break from his grasp and jerk off to cum and finally untense, but with the way tom had one arm wrapped around your torso, restricting your movements to take every bit of friction he gave you.

"tom please I've been so good I wanna cum" you drop your head on his shoulder and look up at him with big puppy dog eyes which almost persuade him but he just kisses your forehead and rests his head on your shoulder, tilting your head down to watch the little bit of precum drop out of your cock.

"mm I love seeing you so desperate for me y/n" he says kissing down your neck adding to the unbearable amount of pleasure that was overwhelming you, he wasn't gonna let up anytime soon with how he tightened and loosened his grip around your dick.

your head dropping down while little tears fell down your cheeks, tom lifting your face up by your chin "you promise to not act out while I'm handling business anymore" tom asks, glancing down at your wobbling lip as your eyes lightened up with hope to finally cum

"mhm mhm mhm I promise tom I promise" you excitedly nod your head making tom smirk at your willingness to do whatever he says as long as you get what you want "now that's my good boy" he grumbles into the crook of your neck before loosening his hand enough to let you cum.

your cum spraying all over the bed with a loud moan, your body slightly shaking rapidly and toes curling at the greatness of finally cumming "I love you tom" you say weakly kissing his jaw "I love you to darling" he hugs you tightly.

taglist:@mailmango@spermeboy@ghostking4m@gayaristocrat@addictedtomalepits@staarb0y@crispysoup318@its-ares@gargoylesworld09@kadenvatsune@fuckshft@wompwomp-1mh3re

[peterdarlingg]

Bloody promises

Pairing:Mob!tom holland x reader

Synopsis: it’s your first date with Tom in a long time. Though things don’t go as planned.

Warnings: mentions of injuries, blood, pain meds, angst. (I think that’s it let me know if I’m missing something.)

A/n: hope you enjoy! I love hearing feedback (nicely<3)

It was wrong place wrong time. You and Tom had planned to go out on a date that night, seeing as it’s been months since you both had spent quality time together.

You decided to just keep it simple and take a walk and eat some ice cream from your favorite place in London.

Taking a stroll all the while Tom is telling you about his day, how horrible it was, how someone owed him tons of money and how much he missed you.

You always took his mind off of his work. Looking back, you knew what you were getting into when you started dating.

After all, you yourself had come from the second most powerful mob in London. Your father though kept you in the dark about a lot of the bad and the ugly, seeing as he wanted to protect you but now this is your life permanently. Though Tom always tries to protect you from everything and anyone.

Many always tried to take down Tom and his mob and all were unsuccessful. That meant he always had full protection on the mansion and on you specifically. You always had a target on your back since you were considered Tom’s weakness and your father had his own powerful mob as well. So you thought who would dare go against the top two mobs in London?

Tom looking back now, was regretting not having his personal guard with him on your guys’ date. You specifically asked today, that it would just be you and him and that you were tired of having someone follow the both of you around and how you just wanted today to be private. “Please T. For me?”

“Things have been really stressful for the both of us and I just want to spend this time together. I know it would be good for us. Please. Just this once?” You begged him to be alone together. You had literally not once gone out wheather with or without Tom, without having protection. Just you and Tom.

He couldn’t say no to you.

~~~

“Tom, T-Tom please,” you cried out.

“We’re almost there darling, stay with me,” he strained, choking back his sobs.

“I can’t, I c-ca-an’t,” you choked out in pain.

Tom stepped on the gas and held your hand and kissed your knuckles and putting pressure on your wound on your side.

“Hey-hey, y/n, stay with me, stay awake okay, we’re almost home!” You could hear Tom faintly talking to you but it wasn’t really registering over your heavy breathing at this point. But you could feel the anxiety radiating from him. “Harrison!” Tom yelled bursting into the house with you in his arms, looking for his second in command. His yell echoed eerily through the house and just seconds later Harrison came running down the hallway, face panicked and alert.

“Get Claire here now!” He barked. Claire was a doctor and he pays her a hefty amount of money to work for him and the only one Tom trusted at that. Harrison opened his mouth just before Tom yelled “Ask questions later haz, now!” He ran down stairs to the med bay Area and put you in the bed. You were yelling in pain begging him for relief.

“Please make it stop,” you shouted voice straining in pain. “Make it stop,” you muttered, sobbing quietly. “Please..” you begged him. “Shhh” Tom whispered between your cries of help, tears searing down his face, holding you in his arms rocking you back and forth gently, arm wrapped around your head cradling it gently while his other hand continues putting pressure elbow deep in your blood.

You whimpered as he put generous pressure to stop the blood from flowing further. “Shhh, I’m so sorry sweetheart, I’m so sorry, it’s okay, you’re gonna be okay love,” face buried in your hair, pressing his lips to your temple. “It hurts Tommy,” you muttered. “I know, I know my darling, it’s okay we’re going to get you fixed up okay?” He rasped. His heart hurt hearing the absolute agony in your voice. His mind kept going back to your date and how he could’ve saved you from this pain.

“You doing okay love?”, he noticed you were very quiet. You were sitting together on a bench in the park at night after having a mouth watering dinner. Not from those fancy restaurants Tom went for his formal meetings though.

You had always loved getting the greasy, mouth watering food from your favorite diner that had been around for forever. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” He asked while looking at you with all the admiration in the world. It was just you and him.

“Yeah.” You smiled softly at him. “I was just thinking that I don’t remember the last time we went out together, you know I just-“

Tom was brought back when he heard footsteps coming inside and he saw Claire. “What’s the damage?”, She asked Tom. You tuned them out, you felt heavy but on the clouds at the same time. Tom was holding your hand and still putting pressure on with his other. You didn’t look so good. Your face was white as a sheet and you were sweating profusely. Your body was shaking and shuddering. Claire was already going to work. “How much blood has she lost?”, she asked him. Tom let out a shaky breath, his anxiety overflowing. “A lot. A bunch of it…too much,” his voice barely above a whisper. “I-I-I’m-m cold-d.” You whispered. You were breathing rapidly, Your body shaking, curling up into you self as you tried to get warm.

“She’s going into shock,” Claire announced and she started working as fast as she could. “Get that blanket from the chair over there and wrap it around her shoulders. Now.” She ordered Tom while she continued working on you and pushing some fluids into an IV into your arm and hooked you up to various machines that made you look so fragile beneath them. In just a few seconds, Tom came back next to you and started covering you with the blanket and tucking it around your shoulders very effectively. He then proceeded to rub up and down your shaky arms continuously trying to comfort you and keep you as warm as possible.

He stood at the head of the bed and watched Claire starting to work on you. She had given you some anesthesia and pain meds so you were slowly getting knocked out at this point. Your eyes fluttered shut looking up at Tom, his fingers tangled in your hair, hand rubbing up and down your arms and leaned down and kissed your hair. He was the last thing you saw before you saw black.

~~~

You woke up to annoyingly loud beeps. Attempting to open your eyes was a struggle it was like they were glued shut. You felt a pang of pain down your side that came and went. Finally coming to it your eyes slowly fluttered open and you realized you were in the med bay in your home. Suddenly you heard muffled voices coming from the other side of the door. The voices got gradually louder and that’s when you realized it was Tom arguing with Harrison. You looked around the room and found evidence of Tom staying here by your side. His phone, cups of coffee and blankets and other clutter. The door opened abruptly and Tom walked in.

“Sweetheart, you’re awake!” Tom tried to look happy but you could see the concern and sadness clear as day in his eyes. “Yeah,” You croaked your throat scratchy and dry. You coughed harshly, wincing in pain from your side. Tom rushed to get you some water.

“Here, here darling, drink baby” he held up a cup of water to your mouth helping you sip, his hand cupping your head for support. The cold water felt incredible, like you hadn’t had a drink in weeks.

“More water?” He gently asked. You shook your head no. “No thank you.” You whispered head falling back from a sudden dizziness. “You okay, love?” “How are you feeling?” He gently probed, gently running his hand over your hair. “I’m okay I think, just a little lightheaded. “It’s probably the meds they got you on. It’s gonna go away in a bit don’t worry.” He said softly, sitting beside you on the edge of your bed.

“It’s okay it’s kinda sick actually, it’s like I’m drunk,” you giggled, turning into a full blown laugh. Tom started laughing as well seeing you all high and silly from the meds was very interesting to say the least. “Why were you yelling?” You softly asked him after coming down from your laugh attack. “What?” “I heard you and Harrison arguing out in the hall,” you told him. “Oh..I- I’m just so- I just can’t believe I let tonight happened. It’s all my fault and I’m not gonna stop till I find out who did this to you. I’m so sorry darli-“ “T, stop, take a breath.” You stopped his rambling. “It’s not your fault.” “Please don’t ever think that. It’s not.” You shook your head looking him in the eye. “You saved me.” Voice cracking, you smiled sadly at him, tears welling in your eyes. “No but I shouldn’t have had to save you from anything or anyone, you don’t get it.” He shook his head, getting worked up now. “I could’ve lost you tonight.” His voice cracked, eyes teary. ‘I could’ve lost you, I was loosing you.” His eyebrows furrowed a pesky little tear escaping his eye. You slowly cupped his face, gently wiping his tears with your thumbs, kissing his forehead.

“I’m here,” you whispered in the cold empty room. Just you and him. “I’m here Tom, I promise I’m not going anywhere.” You pressed your forehead against his, eyes closed breathing each other in as time stood still, just you and him. “I love you,” he whispered. “I love you most.” you whispered back. He smiled gently. You don’t know who leaned in first but it didn’t matter you felt his soft warm lips on yours.

He Feverishly kissed you like you’d disappear and slip out of his arms at any moment. His fingers tangled in your hair and your hands around his neck. He was holding onto you so tightly but so gently at the same time. He deepened the kiss and held you tighter somehow if that was even possible. Both your limbs entangled and you couldn’t see where your arms began and ended. He was being so gentle and tender with you like you were made of glass, he never forgot that you were still freshly, badly injured.

Coming up for air both of you panting, you rested your head on his shoulder and closed your eyes enjoying being in his arms and in his warmth and presence. “Please don’t blame yourself my love.” You told him, voice soft. “I don’t blame you and I don’t believe that what happened was in any way shape or form your fault.” “If anything I’m the one to blame, cause you told me it’s best to have protection with us and I said no and-“ “hey-hey, no, you’re not to blame for this. At all.” He backed away to look at you.

“You just wanted it to be me and you.” “And that’s valid.” “I know you’ve been stressed lately. And I know I haven’t been making it better with me always looking over my shoulder. But I promise you right here, right now I’ll do better by you. I swear it.” He looked at you intensely, eyebrows furrowed. “Pinky promise?” You lightly laughed, trying to lighten the mood, raising your pinky.

He chuckled and held up his own. “pinky promise.” He intertwined his pinky with your own. Then hugged your head firmly to his chest, kissing your hair.

[thollandneedy]

Shower- Tom Holland

A/n: I was listening to "Pink Matter" while writing this btw

Warnings: Nudity and very sensual

Summary: Literally Tom praising Y/n until she surrenders to his seduction game

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Bellah’s Masterlist 🪻

“It's finally over,” Y/n grunts as she closes the door to the room where she and Thomas were staying in Seattle after an event her boyfriend was supposed to attend in connection with a new movie that was about to be released.

“I know.” Thomas walks over to his girlfriend, who already has her heels in hand to return to the stylist later. “Do you want help with the dress?”

Y/n agrees, then laughs as she nods. The brunette's steps seem to be light, and the heels of his shoes tap against the floor. Just another one of his techniques to make him look taller in the photos. Straightening his messy curly hair after a vigorous flick to undo the gel, he breathed deeply as he saw his girlfriend waiting for him, leaning on the desk in front of one of the bedroom windows.

“You, Thomas Holland.” Y/n says slowly, feeling her neck embraced by a warm breath that runs down her spine, noticing that her boyfriend's fingers were unzipping her dress. “You mean no good”

The brunette's lips found the woman's back, making smacking sounds as they were placed on it, gradually stretching out one of his arms to wrap around her waist. The sound of Seattle seemed to be much quieter than London, while the cold weather meant that the moon was covered by cold mass clouds.

“Do I mean no good?” Holland asked with a sideways smile, pulling her closer to his body, making her feel every muscle that stiffened at his touch.

“Not at all.” Y/n's voice is light as a feather, while a waterfall seems to flow between her legs. “We need to take a shower” Y/n pulls away, once again being pulled tightly by Thomas's hand, who holds her waist as if he doesn't want her to slip out of his arms.

“Of course. You stay against the wall and I'll clean you up with my tongue.” The brunette's chocolate eyes met hers. Even more than a year into the relationship, you still managed to feel intimidated by your boyfriend when he said something dirty that showed his dark side.

“I'm serious. We have to catch the 5 a.m. flight tonight, and it's already 2 a.m.” The woman said, trying to convince her boyfriend to let her go to the bathroom, which coincidentally already had the door open and the lights on because of the smart apartment.

“Me too, love. You looked so beautiful today, I could hardly pay attention to what the directors were saying. You always steal the show.” Holland put one of his hands on the woman's chin, lifting her face with one of his fingers, who smiled and looked away. “How do you do that?”

“What?” Y/n asks, observing every detail of her boyfriend. How the round black glasses fit perfectly on his face, how his smile managed to be cute and sensual at the same time, and how his jaw clenched every time Y/n pulled the sexual tension to her side.

“ This.” Thomas turns away from his girlfriend, looking at her for a second. “You leave me breathless”

“I wanted you to leave me breathless.” Y/n retorts, finally joining in with the brunette, who accepts her participation by sliding her loose dress to the floor and then kneeling down, tracing kisses between her thighs.

“Really? Like that time in New York when I left you voiceless the next day?” The vibration of his voice against her thighs makes her core throb.

“Uh-huh.” The girl agrees, sliding her hands into the curls of the man who responds by gripping his girlfriend's ass tightly, seemingly in an involuntary move to bring her closer. His underwear seems to get tighter than usual, fulfilling his need for touch through wet kisses.

“Do you know what else I wanted?” Y/n asks in a velvety voice.

“What, my princess? I'll do whatever you want.” Holland seems to be surrendered to his desires, allowing himself to submit to his girlfriend who watches him from above with burning eyes.

“That we shower.” The girl says, causing the actor to tip his head downwards, laughing to himself in comic frustration.

“Are you seriously going to do this to me?” The man stands up, while Y/n grabs the fabric of his tie, undoing it with just a few simple movements.

“I'm exhausted and so are you.” Y/n says, pulling the black tie from Tom's neck.

“I'm never tired of you, love.” Thomas insists.

Y/n nods, smiling.

He knew exactly how to get her to give up her failed games of seduction

“If you behave, I'll think about your case.” The girl walks towards the en suite bathroom, feeling the ice on the floor.

“Really?” Holland asks, turning to the image of his girlfriend in lace panties with her breasts showing.

“Come here already, Thomas.” The woman rests her hands on the door frame, while the brunette takes off his shoes in a hurry to enter the room.

“You don't have to tell me twice.”