#my hair is getting in the way and random ass people pulll on it

[goji-pilled]

can my hair PLEASE stop getting in my face oh my god

[asphalt-cocktail]

reader is in a secret relationship with John and while she’s home alone John comes over, it ends with them making out on her couch and she starts choking him and it gets 🔥✨heated✨🔥 and she straddles him and doms the fUCK outta him and her parents walk in and see them and are like😳🧍‍♀️

Ohhohohohoh I love this. We Stan sub John in this house I’m going to change it up a bit tho. George walks in on them instead and Paul suffers second hand embarrassment

WARNING: dom/sub dynamic, smut, choking, hair pulling, being walked in on, McCartney!reader

Privacy wasn’t the first thing that came in mind as you and John desperately tried to be quiet in the small back room of the cinema he was staying in while in Hamburg.

You’d told people people you were going to Hamburg to visit your brother, Paul, but there was more to that story. You had gone to visit Paul but you also missed John, but that was the big secret. You and John had been secretly together now for almost a full year and hadn’t told anyone. At first it didn’t dawn on you, but then the realization of dating your brothers best friend settled in and you both agreed that Paul would kill John if he ever found out.

John leaned on the back wall of the small twin bed as you straddled him, his hands firmly secured to your hips as the two of you clung to eachother. Your mouths feverishly kissed, all thoughts of poise now out the window. It was a messy collision of tongue and teeth.

Your fingers found themselves laced in johns hair moving through the thick locks that were gummy with styling grease; you grabbed a fist full and pulled. Johns head jolted to the side and he moaned loudly.

Your tough teddy boy was an absolute mess as you both scrambled to take your cloths off and toss them messily about the room. You laid back with your knees up and John settled between them, burying his head between your thighs. He kissed up the sides of the soft plush skin that surrounded his head before he reached the spot he’d been looking for.

You squirmed with anticipation, feeling his hit breath brushing against your skin. Johns tongue darted kit, licking a flat stripe up your wet pussy before he lewdly sucked on your clit. You hummed, feeling his arms wrap securely around your thighs and buried your fingers in his hand. His long thick fingers easily slipped inside and he began pumping them in and out, curling them against your walls and brushing his finger pads against them while he continued to suck and lick at your clit.

Your eyes fluttered shut and your mind began to wander. A part of you knew that John was sleeping with other women while away to Hamburg and a part of you knew you should have been upset but you found that your mind went elsewhere. The thought of Johns face buried between the legs of some nameless bird caused your stomach to clench with arousal.

In a messy tangle of limbs you managed to get John on his back. You were aware you didn’t have much time before George and Paul would drunkenly stumble back from the club but right now that didn’t matter to you. You positioned yourself over John and wasted no time sliding down onto him. You began to move your hips slowly, teasing him, pullling all the way out and sliding all the way down. You loved watching Johns eyes hazily stare at you as he tried to focus through the cloud of lust that has fogged over.

Your fingers ran alongside his jaw and John shivered craning his neck back, “please,” he sighed.

You smirked, “please what?” You asked rubbing your hand along his neck. While you knew he was fucking random birds, you knew there was one thing that only you could do.

John bucked his hips against yours, “choke me please” he whined and desperately craned his head back, exposing his neck.

You ran your hands along his neck as you hips stilled, “look at you,” you hummed sprawling your fingers over his neck, “you’re such a little slut begging for me to choke you, aren’t you?” You asked in a cruel mocking tone

John swallowed thickly and gripped your hips tight in his hands, “fuck, please I want it so bad.” He whined.

You smiled, watching Johns eyes plead up at you, “come on,” you said and tapped the rusty head board bars with your hand, “arms up”

John nodded his head and gripped the bare tightly with one hand while his other settled on your wrist, reminding you that John had all the control here. Your hips began to move once more, sliding up and down before you tightened your fingers and applied pressure to Johns throat.

John grunted and his brows knit together, “tighter,” he said in a strained voice and squeezed your wrist.

You happily obliged, squeezing tighter. Johns stilled his hips and his hand gripped the bar of the headboard tightly, you watched the muscles of his arm flex and unflex, and watched as the rosiness from his cheeks spread across his face. As Johns eyes began to water he squeezed your wrist and you let go, watching as he gasped and tried to regain his breath.

“More,” he greedily whined.

You applied more pressure to his throat and moaned feeling his cock sliding in and out of you as you rode him, “you like it when I choke you?” You asked.

Johns face contorted with pleasure and he struggled to nod his head, “harder,” he choked out in a strained voice and pulled at your wrist.

You gripped him harder until he squeezed your wrist and you let go, John gasped “fuck,” he coughed out with tears running down his face, his eyes struggled to focus on you, and his head foggy with pleasure snd lack of oxygen. John placed your hand back on his neck snd you gripped him again with force, feeling his thighs clenching as he tried to desperately not to finish.

Johns eyes fluttered shut and his mouth lewdly hung open, “you gonna come for me baby?” You asked your hips slapping against his. John didn’t answer, you suspected he was too lost in his own hazy world, “fuck,” you sighed, “are you gonna come inside me?” You asked grinding your hips down, “Come on Johnny, you’re such a good boy, letting me fuck you like this.” You babbled as you too were soon lost in your own little world, the filter than ran from your brain to your mouth almost fully disconnected.

You could feel Johns jaw clench before it opened and he let out a strangled groaning gasp as you let go of his throat at the perfect second and he spilled inside you. His arms wrapped around you snd pulled you flush against his chest as he continued to pump his hips into you, yelling out a string of profanity.

You kissed all over his face and rubbed your hands along his neck, “you did so good, baby” you said between kisses, “you’re such a good boy.” Suddenly you froze, realizing the door had open and close. “Did you hear the door open?” You asked trying to get off John.

John securely wrapped his arms around you and prevented you from moving, “who fucking cares if we did. just stay here a minute, yeah?” He said, his words sounding lazy and drunk as he spoke and buried his face into your neck.

You laid there with John, feeling him soften inside you and tried to enjoy your post coital cuddling but you found yourself distracted. Did someone open the door? Who opened it? You silently prayed Paul hadn’t and it had been Stu or George. “Shut up.” John grunted in the silence

“I didn’t say anything” you said looking up at him? Frowning.

John looked down at you, his eyes red and tear stained, “you’re thinking too loud. Sounds like a bleeding circus in here.” He joked.

“Stop I really think someone walked in on us.” You frowned.

John rolled his eyes, “should have paid us for the show he got.” He mumbled before kissing your cheek and moving to get cleaned up.

After the two of you tried to ready yourselves and disguise the sinful acts that were committed in a few short minutes earlier you walked out from the back room and sighed in relief when you noticed no one there.

“See no ones here, probably a ghost.” John joked, now back in his leathers with his pair perfectly combed.

You made the shirt walk back to the club sti unsure of yourself, but your questions were soon answered when you saw Paul’s face immediately turn red when he saw the ou walking back in, John following a shirt while after so as to not rouse suspicion. It wasn’t the same drunken red splotches he would get after drinking too much.

No.

This was a red that spread from his neck, to the tips of his ears and practically made him glow. It was embarrassment.

The way George, Pete, and Stu practically screamed, doubled over with laughter also confirmed it.

“Oh my god.” You buried your face in your hands and had hoped you would simply disappear into the background, melt into the sticky beer stained floor, be gone forever.

Johns face also turned red, but instead of embarrassment it was from anger, “will you lot shut your traps.” He hissed walking towards them.

You followed John, keeping your head low and avoiding Paul’s gaze, it helped because he was also avoiding you. You knew the boys were desperately holding back smart ass comments, for fear of not only Paul’s wrath but also John’s.

After they quieted down and the drinks started flowing you still tried to maintain the appearance that you and John weren’t together, maybe it was all a misunderstanding, maybe no one had walked in on you choking the life out of John Lennon.

Paul was the first to break the silence between the two of you, it didn’t surprise you “why John? Of all people.” He whined covering his face with his hands once again.

Embarrassment once again covered your face, “what do you mean?” You asked trying to lie unsuccessfully.

“Oh come on, George walked in on you two and came back and told everyone.”

You let out a sigh of relief, “oh thank god I thought it was you.” You let out a puff of air. “I don’t think I’d be able to live if you saw anything.”

Paul rolled his eyes, “I’d have to cut me eyes out.” The two of you nodded in agreement, “just be careful with John, yeah he’s a lot to handle.”

You pursed your lips, “I thought you were going to kill him you know?” You said honestly looking over at John who was talking with Stu and George.

Paul frowned, “I might still.” He answered honestly, “not right now though, only if things go bad.” Paul said and pulled you into a side hug

You leaned your head on Paul’s shoulder and laughed at Paul’s comment before the two of you began to walk back toward the trio of men.

“What’s it feel like?” You heard George ask

They were unaware of your and Paul’s presence as you approached.

“What? gettin choked?” John asked causing Paul to choke on and spit out his drink, his face once again turning red, “it’s nice, feels like you’re floating but you can’t let just any bird do it, you’ve got to have trust built.”

You didn’t know if you felt warm from the embarrassment or warm from Johns kind words. You came up to John and buried your face in his back as you wrapped your arms around him. John turned to the side and shifted, sliding his arm protectively around your waste and moving you to his side, “Georgie is paying us for the peep show he got earlier, isn’t that right George?” John asked narrowing his eyes at the younger man.

[random-fanfics-101]

There’s Just Some Things You Don’t Understand

Peter Parker x reader

By: random-fanfics-101

Note: this is my first ever Peter Parker imagine thingy so bear with me! It got pretty long.

—————

She woke up. Again. For the twelfth night in a row. She just couldn’t take it. She couldn’t take his absence. She couldn’t go on without him.

She let her tears begin to fall, choking back her sobs as to not make too much noise. She held a hand over her mouth and squeezed her eyes shut, thinking maybe, if she just wished hard enough that it hadn’t happened, maybe everything would be okay again. Maybe she would wake up in the morning, Peter next to her, happy as can be.

She let her hand fall from her mouth to her stomach, gently caressing it like she had done so many times before in the last 4 and a half months. She tried so hard to not let any more sobs pass her lips, fearful of waking Peter, but she couldn’t contain her sobs anymore.

Peter quickly stirred awake, rubbing his sleep-deprived eyes and sitting up. He carefully placed an arm around her body and pulled her to him, holding her close to his chest. She was in his lap now, hands firmly pressed against his chest, nails digging in slightly. But he couldn’t feel it. It was hard for him to feel anything at this point. He was just... lost.

“I-I can’t..d-do it... Peter,” she mumbled into his chest, her tears soaking his bare skin. His droopy eyes flew open and he squeezed her tighter. She had never said that before, and he’d read about what late-term miscarriages could do to a mother’s mental state. “I... j-just c-an’t do it.”

“Don’t say that, Y/n, we’ll get through this,” he whispered into her hair. “You can do it. I promise.”

“B-but I need him, P-Peter. I-I can’t go on a-anymore without him...” her sobs got louder and her tears intensified. His chest was basically soaked, as it had been every day and night for the last two weeks. He was tired. They both were. But sleep was impossible to achieve at this point.

“I know, Y/n, I know. But you’ve gotta trust me, okay?” His brows furrowed as he nuzzled his face into her shoulder, trying his best to comfort her. Usually, he was very good at it. But this was something even he couldn’t understand. This was something even he couldn’t fake-smile his way through.

“W-why did it h-ave to be hi-m? W-why did it have to b-e ours,” she looked up at him, her eyelashes heavy with tears, nose bright red, face blotchy, and eyes full of... pain. Sorrow. Fear. Blame.

He hated it.

He hated it so much.

He looked down as he felt his own tears begin to well up. He wanted to stay strong for her. He really did. But he just couldn’t anymore.

He looked down as he let out a sob, letting the tears he’d been holding in since last night finally spill free.

No matter how hard Peter tried, he couldn’t get him off his mind all day. All he thought about was him. How he was supposed to hold his tiny hands. How he was supposed to change dirty diapers. How he was supposed to cradle his son till he fell asleep when he cried in the early hours of the morning.

And now he would get none of it.

He’d never get to hold his son.

Or see his first smile.

Hear his first cries.

Look into his little eyes and know everything would be okay.

He got none of it.

“I-I don’t know, Y/n. I don’t know,” her heart broke even more at his words. Not the words themselves, this was a pretty routine conversation at this point. But she cried at the helplessness in his voice. The way he tried to strangle back his crying, only to result in choked sobs that came out as voice cracks. He sounded so broken.

She laced her arms underneath his and squeezed him tight, thinking maybe if she showed him enough love, she could take away his pain. Peter did the same to her, with the same goal in mind. But they knew their attempts were futile. Hugs couldn’t fix hearts this broken. Only time could do that. And at this point they both wished desperately to find some sort of fast-forward button.

“I-I just want my b-aby. I j-just want our s-son,” she bawled harder now, pressing her face into the crook of his neck, and he mirrored her actions.

“M-me, too,” he gasped.

“I-I don’t know what to d-do witho-ut h-him, Peter. I d-don’t know what to d-do,” she shook her head helplessly, her hands shaking as they found their way into Peter’s curls.

“I-I don’t e-either,” he wept, the t-shirt of his she wore now wet with salty tears. They could only cry. There wasn’t anything else they could do.

“I-it’s my f-fault,” she mumbled, just barely loud enough for Peter to hear. He pulled her back by her biceps, probably a little harder than he should’ve, but loosened his grip once he realized it.

“Don’t ever say that, Y/n. Don’t you dare,” he shook his head. “This is not your fault. Not even a little bit. It... it just wasn’t meant to be.”

“Then why does it hurt so much?” Her head hung low as more tears fell from her eyes. “Why can’t I have my boy?”

He didn’t know what to say. There wasn’t anything he could say. He simply pressed his forehead to hers and sobbed with her. He silently hoped to himself- in the morning, everything will be okay. In the morning, it will be better.

But it didn’t.

The second the two would open their eyes, sore and bloodshot from crying, they would just wish they could’ve never woken up. The same cycle was repeated daily. Wake up. Choke down a scrambled egg or two. Occupy yourself with house chores. Avoid the nursery at all costs. Go to bed. Cry. Wake up. That’s all they ever did anymore.

People were starting to wonder where Spiderman was. And so was Peter.

“You should go out today, Peter,” he heard her behind him. He turned, letting the red and blue fabric in his hands fall back onto the bed. He shook his head lightly, turning back to it.

“I can’t leave you here alone,” he said, more to himself than his wife.

“You have to start going out. People are starting to worry,” she said, walking up behind him and wrapping her arms around his waist, pressing her face into the back of his shoulder to give him kisses.

“They can worry all they want. You come first,” he mumbled, closing the case. She only squeezed him a bit harder, trying not to let any tears fall.

“We’ve got to drink some water or something. I think we’re getting dehydrated,” she whispered.

“I don’t doubt it. My head is killing me,” he turned to hold her. Her head went to his chest, like it always did. Even though he didn’t think he was tall enough to make her feel it, she always felt safe with him anyways. He kissed the top of her head, wishing so badly he could just take her pain away. He knew it would be at least two years before they tried again. Even though he wasn’t super eager to try again, he still wanted a family with her.

“Let’s go,” she said, softly grabbing his hand and dragging him to the kitchen. His son still crossed his mind, her gentle touch reminding him of the way a baby wraps their tiny fingers around your own. He felt tears prick his brown eyes, but blinked before they could escape.

“It’s gonna be a long time, Peter. It’s okay to cry,” she said, playing with the hem of his sweater as she looked at his glossy eyes. He wrapped an arm around her, the other resting on the counter, nuzzling himself into her neck as they cried in the kitchen.

•••••

It was painful. It was miserable. It was the most abhorrent torture their minds, hearts, and souls had ever endured. But they did it. And a year and a half had passed. They went on with their normal lives, Peter working in his position at Stark Industries and web-slinging around Queens, her working in her office with her graphic design clients, though she couldn’t focus on her work.

She was late, exhausted, and nauseous beyond belief. 4 tests had confirmed that she was pregnant again, yet she couldn’t decide if she was happy or terrified. She’d been down this road before and she didn’t know if she could do it again. Well, actually, she was 100% sure she could do this again, but she wasn’t sure how Peter would react. What if he didn’t want her to be pregnant again? What if he wasn’t healed as much as she thought and it destroys him? What if he leaves?

She waited quietly for him to come in through the window, excited for him to see the surprise she had for him.

*tap tap tap*

She looked to the dining room window, quickly getting up and unlatching the bottom. Peter, throwing his mask onto the table, lifted it quickly, pushing himself into the house and closing it again. He leaned in for a kiss but stopped halfway- quickly closing the blinds.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulled him close and kissed him more passionately than ever. He froze for a second, taken aback, but nonetheless kissed back, letting his hand travel to the back of her neck. She pullled away breathless, and quite frankly, scared to death.

“Jeez. Does this suit really make my ass look that good?” He chuckled, earning a small giggle from the love of his life.

“Well, it does, but that’s not why I’m so happy to see you,” she smiled, pushing herself up onto the counter.

“Oh really? Then why are you?” He smirked, placing his hands on either side of her.

“Go get your normal clothes on and I’ll tell you,” she said, giving him a quick peck on the lips. He smiled and gave a Kurt nod, walking to the bedroom. She slapped his ass as he turned around, earning a fake offended face from her goofy husband. He followed up with a chucked and was soon back in the dining room, jeans and a gray v neck securely on his body.

“Alright, so what’s my present?” He beamed, pressing his hands on either side of her on the counter. She wound her arms around his neck, hands finding their way to his hair, like they always did. He pressed his forehead against hers, making her decide to close the gap between them.

The kiss was sweet, loving, and a little bit scared on her part. He pulled back, a smile still plastered on his face.

“Seriously, why are you so lovey?” He chuckled. She groaned, letting her head fall back.

“It’s in the oven,” she spoke quietly. He quickly pulled his hands off the counter and went to the oven.

“If you made me a cake, I am going to make you the happiest woman in the world tonight,” he said, opening the oven door. He looked in, quite confused. He glanced at his wife, who was blushing and grinning, still sitting on the countertop.

“It’s not hot or anything. You can just grab it with your hands,” she said, earning a small nod from him before he grabbed the small, heart-shaped cake pan. He set it carefully on the stovetop, analyzing it carefully. In the pan was a small dinner roll, a white ribbon wrapped around it and elegantly tied in a bow.

“It’s uhhh...” he wondered to himself. “It’s a bun?” He turned and looked at her, her smile still very evident on her face. He tried to keep himself from smiling at her, but barely could. “What? You look like you’re just waiting for me to figure it out. Just tell me!”

“Well, where was the bun?” She smirked, glancing between her hands in her lap and the loveable man before her. He looked back down at the peculiar pan.

“Well it was in the-” his face dropped from a smile into surprise. She couldn’t tell if it was the good kind of surprised or the bad kind. He stared down at the white ribbon, gaze flickering between the bow and his wife. “There’s a bun in the oven?” His voice was so quiet, it was almost a whisper. His head snapped over to look at her, eyes lingering down to her stomach.

She nodded lightly, scared of his reaction. She could feel her heartbeat in her fingertips. She twiddled her thumbs to try and keep her hands from shaking. She bit her bottom lip as she looked between her hands and Peter once again.

“There’s a bun in the oven?” He said again, more to himself this time. A confused, pondering, and maybe a little agitated (?) look crossed his featured, eyebrows knitting together and forming that cute little crease right above the bridge of his nose. As quickly as they’d lowered, his brows raised. His eyes seemed bright now, he looked at Y/n, a smile slowly forming on his face. “There’s a bun in the oven!” He said gleefully.

He took the two steps to his wife and grabbed her off the counter, her arms sticking to her sides as he held her happily like a little girl holding her favorite stuffed animal. He cautiously lowered her, making sure her feet were firmly on the ground before letting go. He dropped to his knees and wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing his forehead to her lower abdomen.

“We’re pregnant,” he whispered, pressing his lips against her and squeezing her tighter- but not too tight. She smiled and ran a hand through his hair, letting the other rest on his arm that was draped around her waist.

“We’re pregnant,” she repeated.

•••••

Her screams echoed through the room as she squeezed his hand tighter than ever before. He was pretty sure it was broken- there is no way the bones in his hand could survive that. Not even if he had superpowers.

He pressed his lips against her temple, not paying attention to the sweat that covered it.

“You’re doing great, baby, just keep holding on,” he spoke softly.

“It hurts so bad Peter,” she whimpered, shoulders relaxing as the painful contraction slowly faded away. “Please make it stop!” Her voice slowly rose with every syllable as another contraction rippled through her body, feeling as though there was a needle pricking the end of each nerve she had.

“I wish I could, Y/n, you know I do. You’ve just gotta pull through, okay? We get to meet our little boy if you get through this, you can do it,” he whispered, pressing light kisses all over the left side of her face. She let out another helpless cry, more tears making their way out of her eyes. He didn’t mind the pain going through his hand and shooting up his whole arm anymore. It was the least he could do.

“I-I don’t know if I can do it, Peter,” she cried, relaxing again as the contraction weakened.

“Yes you can, you can do it. Baby, I know you can,” he gave her a light smile as the doctor entered the room. Y/n was so used to her coming in to check how far she was that she barely noticed, her eyes still locked with Peter’s.

“Mrs. Parker?” The blonde woman said, causing them both to look at her. “You’re gonna have to get ready to push soon. I’m just going to go get a little assistance and we’ll get to it, okay?” She asked, earning a nervous nod from Y/n.

“Thank you,” Peter smiled at her before she turned and left.

“Peter I can’t,” she sobbed, squeezing his hand again as another contraction made her insides feel like they were burning. You’d think she’d be getting used to it after 9 hours, but they were only getting worse.

“Yes you can, Y/n. You can do it. You’ve got to,” he whispered, giving her cheek a long kiss. She nodded, trying to convince herself she could. Right as she was wishing this was all over and she was holding her baby boy, the doctor came back in with 3 other nurses and Peter’s friend Harry (picture Harrison in the roll of Harry Osborn), who was almost more excited than Peter to meet the little one. Almost.

“Okay, Y/n, it’s time to start pushing, okay?” She said as Harry came to her side, grabbing hold of her other hand.

“No, no, no. I can’t. I’m not strong enough,” she cried.

“Y/n, you’ve put up with Peter for 7 years now. You’re strong enough to bring your baby into the world,” Harry said, trying to lighten the mood just the slightest bit, and failing. However, he did move Y/n to bravery.

“O-okay,” she said. “I think I’m ready.”

“Okay, hun, on the count of three... one... two... three!”

Y/n’s scream filled the room as she crushed both Peter and Harry’s hands, back arching because of the pain. She threw her head back against the pillow, chest heaving. She’d never felt this exhausted in her whole life.

“Great job, Y/n, you’re going amazing. Let’s go again, okay?” She waited for Y/n to nod before counting down. “One... two... three!”

She let out another scream and collapsed after about 10 seconds, another, smaller scream taking over after she’d stopped. Suddenly, all of the pain, exhaustion, and tears of agony stopped when she saw her beautiful little boy, his arms and legs wiggling about as he cried. Her breath hitched, as did Peter’s. It was his turn to squeeze her hand.

The doctors asked Peter to come over, handing him a scissor-like object and instructing where to cut the umbilical cord. He smiled as he went back to his spot next to his wife as they began to wipe the waxy substance from their child.

“You did it, Y/n, you did it!” Harry smiled, kissing the woman on the cheek. But she was unphased by it, watching as they cleaned her baby up, placing it on her chest.

She let her fingers run over the back of his head as he wailed against her. She’d never seen such a beautiful sight, and never heard such a wonderful sound. His crying weakened as he felt her run fingers against him, his tiny hands balling up into fists as he realized he was with mommy again.

“He’s so gorgeous,” Peter said, just above a whisper. She could only nod, not able to stop the tears that were rolling down her cheeks. Finally. What she’d wanted for three years. She finally had her son. Not the one she had wished for so badly two years ago, but the one that had saved her from her own misery. She looked down at him, careful to not let any tears fall on his tiny head, thanking God for giving her this gift. For finally giving her her little boy.

His crying had ceased and she still sat speechless, staring down at the tiny body that was laid against her own. He whimpered quietly as she wrapped her arms around him, looking at the tiny features he had. She finally let her head fall back, breathing a sigh of relief as she realized he was real. He was here. She wasn’t dreaming like she feared she had been. One of the nurses came over again, taking hold of her baby gently and taking him just a few feet away.

They took his measurements-weight, length- and cleaned him up the rest of the way, wrapping him in a soft, blue blanket and placing a tiny blue hat on his head. Y/n held her arms out needily, eyes never leaving their boy. The nurse thoughtfully placed him in her arms, and she carefully brought him close to her chest.

“He’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” Harry whispered, resting his elbows against the side of the bed and leaning over to stare at the infant.

“He really is,” Y/n’s voice cracked as she spoke, more tears leaving her eyes. She’d never been this happy before in her life, and Peter obviously felt the same.

“Our wedding day was great and all but this makes it seem like it was just an average day,” Peter whispered, gingerly pressing his nose against his son’s little head, inhaling the new-baby smell deeply, an aroma he’d feared he’d never get the chance to smell. Tears pricked his eyes as he finally realized he was here. His baby boy. His tiny little son.

“He’s so perfect,” Y/n whispered, her eyes still glued to her son. Peter tore his eyes away from their little bundle of joy for a second to look at his beautiful wife, who somehow could still smile after 9 hours and 21 minutes of almost unbearable pain. Who could still weep tears of joy after all the heartbreak she’d been through.

Harry quietly got up, saying he would come back in awhile. “You two need a little alone time with your boy. I’ll be back in about an hour,” he smiled, quietly leaving the room.

She lifted him up to her, resting her lips his forehead, causing him to let out a choked grunt. “My beautiful baby boy,” she whispered, more droplets escaping her eyes. “I love you so much.”

Peter absent mindedly let his fingers trail up and down his son’s cheek, quietly enjoying the soft, tender skin. The couple’s hearts almost stopped when he yawned, tiny lips curling into an O. His eyes slowly opened, dark irises immediately connecting with Peter’s. Y/n could hear Peter’s breath stop, a smile spreading on his face as his son’s tiny mouth opened, looking at his daddy almost in awe before breaking into the tiniest smile they’d ever seen.

“First smile,” Peter whispered, the tears in his eyes finally spilling over the edges. Y/n’s tears followed, feeling the most happiness she had ever felt in her life. Her baby smiled at his daddy, and that tiny gesture meant so much more to her than she had ever thought it would.

After about two minutes of just staring at the little baby, he started to cry again. Instinctively, y/n pulled down one sleeve of her medical gown and fed him, making his crying cease immediately. Peter still couldn’t take his eyes off of him.

“What should we name him?” Y/n asked. They’d talked about names during the pregnancy, but they could never find one that was just right.

“Well... I was thinking... Tony,” Peter said, carefully moving his eyes from his son to his wife, scared to see her reaction. She only smiled, eyes still on her son.

“Tony Benjamin Parker,” she whispered, causing Peter’s eyes to light up. “I like it.” She stared up at her husband, the right side of his mouth curling into a smile.

“Tony Benjamin Parker it is, then,” he pressed his lips against hers, both of them quickly pulling away to look on at their tiny bundle of answered prayers.