#tom holland x fem! reader

[talaok]

Training

Pairing: Peter Parker x f!reader

Summary: Peter has never been able to last enough to take care of you, but as it turns out... practice does make perfect.

Warnings: talk about premature ejaculation, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, sub!peter and lots of pet names for spidey.

he was always so desperate around you. He was always shy about it, but every time you gave him permission his hands never left your body.

He was so fucking in love with you it was actually a little bit scary.

Nobody had ever made him feel the way you did, and not just sex-wise (although goddamn wasn't that the best thing ever), no, but feelings-wise- like he could breathe more easily around you, like he felt light and soft and the word was perfect whenever you were near.

And everything really was perfect... except one little thing.

he couldn't last.

You weren't making it a big deal, being that you were also teaching him every other way he could make you come, but still, he wanted to do it... he so desperately wanted to feel your walls squeeze him as you came that he was willing to do anything... but it was just so hard.

Andit never got easier...

"c'mon baby" you purred, taking his face in your hands "You can do it, think of something else," you said, out of breath as you bounced on his cock "Anything else baby, I'm almost there"

His eyes were shut close.

He'd found that he didn't even stand a chance at lasting more than 2 minutes if he was watching you.

And he tried, he really tried to get his mind to make something up, to will it to find something else to focus on, but-

"you feel so good y/n- I-I can't"

"yes you can" you shut him up with a messy kiss "You wanna be my good boy, baby?" you ask, eliciting a whimper from his throat

"y-yes" he choked out, not sure how he still hadn't burst

"Yeah?" you breathed "Then you're gonna have to be good and wait a little more" you moaned, his dick hitting a particularly good spot "Can you do that for me, baby? can you wait a little more?"

"mh-mh" he hummed, sounding on the verge of tears

"good boy" you moaned, your nails scratching his chest, as he stretched you so incredibly well "fuck-you feel so good" you cried, your voice drowning out the sound of your skin slapping with his "s-so big baby" you moaned again "s-so f-fucking-"

And then, just like that, it happened- the most extraordinary thing he'd ever felt.

You came, you came on his cock- you came because of him (although, let's be honest, you did all the work), and it felt-

he didn't even have words for it, he only groaned louder than he had ever done, and finally (and inevitably) reached his own release as your walls squeezed his dick and your moans filled the air.

He was grinning like an idiot the moment you opened your eyes back up, and you couldn't help but laugh "You liked it?"

"yes" he nodded, still smiling wide "yes very much"

"mhh" you hummed, bashing in your post-orgasmic bliss as you leaned down to kiss him "I told you you could do it honey"

[thollandsgirl2013]

𝐖𝐞𝐭 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬*

Parings → Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings → SMUT !! 18+ unprotected sex, Sleepy sex, language

Summary → Peter wakes up in the middle of the night from a wet dream and now he needs you.

(gif not mine)

Your hips moved against Peter’s in a steady rhythm, the sounds of your shared pleasure filling the room. His hands gripped your waist firmly, guiding your movements as you rode him on the couch. He was buried deep inside you, hitting the perfect spot with every thrust, your moans spurring him on as his own pleasure built rapidly.

“Baby,” Peter groaned, his voice strained, his head falling back against the cushions. “I’m so close…”

You leaned down, your breath warm against his ear as you whimpered, “fuck, Peter.”

His hips bucked beneath you, the tension in his body snapping as he let out a deep, guttural moan. But just as the sensation peaked—

Peter’s eyes flew open, his breath hitching sharply as he jolted awake, chest heaving from the vivid dream he’d just had about you. For a moment, he stared at the ceiling, disoriented, his heart pounding as the images lingered in his mind like a second skin.

It wasn’t real.

The realization hit him like a bucket of cold water, but it did little to calm the heat simmering through his body. His skin was slick with sweat, and his cock was painfully hard beneath the sheets. He groaned softly, running a hand down his face as the remnants of the dream refused to fade.

The way you’d moved, the sounds you’d made, the heat, the arousal—it had felt so real. Too real. And now he was left with the ache of wanting you, the need clawing at him like a restless storm he couldn’t escape.

Turning his head, he glanced at your peaceful form, curled up beside him. You were sound asleep, your breathing soft and steady. For a moment, he hesitated, biting his lip as he watched you. He didn’t want to wake you—he knew you were tired—but the throbbing between his legs was unbearable.

“Babe,” he whispered, nudging you gently. You stirred slightly, letting out a soft hum but didn’t open your eyes. “Baby, wake up… please.”

You shifted again, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself, but your eyes stayed closed. “Sleep, Peter,” you mumbled, your voice muffled by the pillow.

Peter groaned softly, the ache in his body growing worse. He needed you—right now. He tried to be patient, but his body had other plans. Before he could stop himself, he pressed his hard cock against you, grinding against your ass, trying to find some kind of relief. The friction sent a wave of pleasure through him, but it wasn’t enough.

“Baby,” he whispered again, his voice low and needy. “I’m so hard… I need you, please.”

Your eyes fluttered open just a crack, the haze of sleep making it hard to fully comprehend his words. “Peter…” you murmured, still half asleep.

“Please,” he begged softly, his voice thick with desperation. He pressed himself against you again, his hands gripping your waist lightly. “I need to feel you, baby. I’m—fuck, I’m so hard, and it hurts.”

You sighed, still groggy, but the sound of his pleading voice tugged at your heart. “Fine…” you mumbled, slowly sitting up and rubbing your eyes. You were too tired to even argue, and you knew how worked up Peter could get in moments like this.

With a heavy sigh, you tossed the blanket aside, slipping off your shorts and letting them fall to the floor. The dim glow of the room caught the way Peter’s eyes followed every one of your movements, his chest rising and falling as he held his breath. A low, almost inaudible sound escaped his lips as you straddled his lap, your body warm and still heavy with sleep, adding to the quiet intimacy of the moment.

Leaning in, you pressed your forehead against his, feeling the soft brush of his curls, and his hands instinctively moved to your hips, fingers pressing into your skin as if grounding himself. “You’re… beautiful,” he breathed out, his voice thick with longing as his gaze locked onto yours. You felt his warmth through the fabric of his sweatpants, the tension building between you, soft but undeniable.

Gently, you reached down, your fingertips sliding along his waistband as you tugged his sweatpants down, freeing him. Peter let out a shuddering breath as you wrapped a hand around him, feeling him twitch under your touch. You took your time, guiding his tip to slide softly against your folds, each slow motion sending shivers up your spine. You teased him this way, dragging him over your clit in slow circles, letting the warmth and wetness build between you both.

Peter’s hands tightened on your hips, his breath catching with each movement. “Baby, please,” he whispered, his voice a mix of need and restraint, and you couldn’t help but smile at how much he wanted you.

Finally, you positioned yourself above him and lowered yourself slowly, a quiet gasp escaping your lips as you took him inch by inch. “Fuck… baby,” he groaned, his eyes squeezing shut as he felt you around him. Your head dropped to his shoulder, and your hands pressed against his chest to steady yourself, feeling the rapid beat of his heart under your palms. His grip on you firmed as he bit down on his lip, his entire body tensing from the intensity of being fully joined with you.

“Oh god, you feel so good,” Peter whispered, his voice breathy and strained. “I missed this so much…”

You let out a sleepy hum in response, your head still resting on his shoulder, your body barely moving. Peter didn’t mind, though. Just the feeling of you wrapped around him was enough to drive him crazy.

He started moving his hips, slowly at first, gently grinding up into you. His breathing grew heavier with each movement, his cock pulsing inside you. “Baby, fuck… you’re so tight,” he groaned, his voice muffled as he pressed his lips to your neck.

You let out a soft moan, barely awake but aware enough to feel the pleasure building. “Peter…” you whispered, your fingers curling into his chest. “Go slow… I’m still sleepy.”

“I will, I promise,” Peter murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. “Just let me feel you. Just like this…”

His movements stayed slow, his hips rocking up into you in a steady rhythm, but you could feel how desperate he was. Every time he pushed into you, his body tensed, his breath coming out in shaky gasps. You could feel the heat radiating off him, the way his muscles flexed under your touch.

Peter’s hands slid up your sides, his fingers brushing against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. He pulled you closer, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he continued to move, his cock twitching inside you.

“Fuck, I love you,” he whispered, his voice raw and full of emotion. “I love you so much, baby. You feel so perfect.”

You smiled sleepily, your arms wrapping around his neck as you held onto him, letting him take control. “I love you too, Peter…” you mumbled, your lips pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

Peter’s hips bucked slightly, his control slipping as he tried to hold himself back. He didn’t want this to end too quickly, but the way you clenched around him, the warmth of your body—it was overwhelming.

“Baby, I’m close,” Peter groaned, his voice shaky as his movements became more frantic. “I’m so close…”

You tightened your arms around him, your own pleasure building rapidly as his thrusts became more erratic. The friction, the angle, the way he filled you—it was all too much. “It’s okay, Pete,” you whispered against his ear, your voice breathless. “Let go… I’m right there with you. Come for me.”

Your words pushed him over the edge. With a deep, broken moan, Peter’s hips jerked up into you, his cock throbbing as he spilled inside you. The sensation of his release sent you spiraling into your own climax, your body trembling as waves of pleasure washed over you. You cried out his name, your walls clenching around him as your orgasm pulsed through you.

Peter’s whole body shuddered, he's grip on your hips tightened as he rode out his high, his chest heaving against yours. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot and ragged, whispering your name like a prayer. Both of you stayed there, trembling and holding each other, basking in the aftershocks of shared ecstasy.

You stayed still, letting him come down from his high, your fingers gently running through his messy curls. “There you go,” you whispered soothingly, pressing another kiss to his temple. “Feel better now?”

Peter let out a breathless laugh, nodding as he pulled back slightly to look at you. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes still dark with lust, but there was a softness in his gaze that made your heart swell.

“Yeah,” he breathed, leaning up to kiss you gently. “So much better. Thank you, baby.”

You smiled sleepily, resting your head on his shoulder. But then a thought crossed your mind, and you couldn’t help but smirk. “So… why were you hard in the middle of the night anyway?” You teased, your tone light but curious.

Peter froze, his cheeks instantly turning a deep shade of red. “Uh…” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, avoiding your gaze. “I… might’ve had an intense dream about you.”

Your eyebrows shot up, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly. “An intense dream?” You teased, brushing your lips against his jaw. “Care to share the details?”

Peter groaned, hiding his face in your neck. “No way,” he mumbled, though the embarrassed grin on his face gave him away. “It’s bad enough I woke you up because of it!”

You chuckled, cupping his face and guiding him to look at you. “You’re lucky I love you,” you murmured, kissing the tip of his nose. Resting your head back on his shoulder. “But next time, wake me up when it’s not three in the morning,” you murmured, your voice soft and playful.

Peter chuckled, his hands still rubbing soothing circles on your back. “I’ll try, but no promises,” he murmured, kissing your shoulder. “I can’t help it when you’re just… so irresistible.”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile on your face gave you away. You shifted slightly, adjusting yourself in his lap, but Peter’s arms tightened around you, keeping you close.

“Stay,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “Just like this. I wanna hold you.”

You sighed contentedly, closing your eyes as you relaxed in his arms. “Okay, baby,” you whispered. “I’m not going anywhere.”

And with that, you both drifted back to sleep, your bodies intertwined, your hearts beating in perfect sync.

‎∗ ࣪ ˖༺ 𓆩☆𓆪 ༻˖ ࣪ ∗

[pearlfeline]

the world's best tour guide

peter parker x fem!reader/stark!reader

word count: 2.6k

tw: none

a/n: made this longer to make up for the last one but then i went so far i didn't know how to end it lol hope its still readable because i don't think so :') enjoy ALSO HOCO PETER CALLBACK BC I MISS WATCHING THAT MOVIE FOR THE FIRST TIME IN MIDDLE SCHOOL OH GOOOOOOOOD

“There needs to be somebody else with me!” Your father exclaimed.

“Oh, well maybe you should’ve thought of that before making this fraudulent internship?”

“It’s… real. It’s real to me.” Your father gazes at you longingly.

“Soooo people are supposed to believe I have to work my way up through this internship despite the fact that we share a last name and address?” You look up from your laptop for the first time during this conversation.

“There’s celebrities out there that don’t give their children even a penny, you’re lucky.” Tony shrugs, popping a grape in his mouth.

"Plus, it makes perfect sense! You're a little builder like me aren't you?" He says in between chews.

“Those are mine,” You snag the bowl back to your side of the kitchen island. “and I’m adopted!” You shove two grapes in your mouth to one-up him. “Do you know how effed up you would be to cut off my only source of income when I’m adopted?!” You were muffled by the grapes in your mouth.

“Don’t curse.”

“I said eff I didn’t say fuck.”

“DON’T CURSE.” Tony warned.

“Ugh, where’s mom? I wanna complain about you.” You groaned, taking yourself and your laptop upstairs.

“Leaving at 11:30!” Tony shouted through the stairs.

You waved him off, rushing to your room. You continued working on your computational model simulated lab that Bruce designed for you to play around with.

“Bam.” You say to yourself as you let the 3D models crash into eachother.

“Knock knock.” Your mom says quietly.

“Mom, don't say knock knock. Just knock on the door.”

“Honey, let’s get off the computer for a second.”

Pepper closes your laptop gently. “Just go with your father hon. He’s just using this as an excuse. He wants you to work with him more he loves you.” She crouches down at your eye level, taking your hand.

“Everybody knows how smart you are, they want to work with you. Okay? Okay. Great, get dressed.”

“It's not that I don't want to go, it's the fact that I'm probably not allowed to touch anything fun or follow dad anywhere cool. Also your pep talks are getting shorter and shorter.” You huffed.

“I’m hungry. I want lunch. Maybe your dad should’ve waited for me to make my toast before asking me to come up here.” Pepper takes one last look before leaving the room. “Be ready in 5 minutes.”

You begrudgingly come downstairs.

“You look great honey.” Tony clasps his hands together.

“I didn’t even change.” You said flatly.

“…Okay. In the car.”

Pepper gives you a look with many meanings behind it. If you had to guess, her expression meant “Be nice”, “He’s trying his best”, and “Shut up don’t complain”.

You give your mom a half-hearted thumbs up before leaving.

After a little while of driving, Happy comes to an abrupt stop.

“Dude what the-” Your phone dropped to the bottom of Happy’s seat in the process.

“Here’s the kid.” Tony says, trying to hide his smile. It was evident even from the backseat.

A boy with a linty hoodie and a beaten down bag waved to the car, a matching grin plastered on his face after he realized who was inside.

“Mr. Stark!” He exclaimed.

Your dad gets out of the car, exchanging words with the boy.

Tony opens his door. “Yeah go sit back there. Now, I trust you know not to bother my daughter.”

As if on cue, Peter opens the door to see you with intimidation in his eyes.

“Hi.”

“H-Hi.” Peter sits in his seat stiffly. He extends a hand and reels it back realizing what your dad had just said.

“He’s just kidding.” You shake your head, chuckling. “…I’m allowed to greet people.”

Peter swallows a lump in his throat. “Right. Of course. I’m just not sure if I can greet people.” He wipes his sweaty hand on his sleeve before extending it out again.

“Peter.” He looks up with a shy smile.

“Y/N.” You nod, shaking his hand.

“I saw you on youtube. The robot you built? The one that could project a hologram five times its size? So cool.” He gushes.

You smile shyly, having to look away from embarrassment.

“I’ve seen you on youtube too.” You grin subtly.

"...Oh god. I was only ten, my solar system was supposed to orbit around slowly. I used paperweights instead of styrofoam balls and the battery I used was high powered, they weren't supposed to fly out like that. I even paid for the school's camera with my Christmas money-"

"Uh- no.. I meant like the spider thing?"

Dumbfounded, Peter looks over to Tony through the rear view mirror. Tony meets his eyes and gives him a wink.

"Oh... I didn't know you knew about that." Peter sinks into his seat.

"Don't be embarrassed. I think it's cool." You smiled.

Peter unconsciously smiles back at you. "Thanks.. I…try." Peter cringes at his attempt to reply to you normally.

You lessen the distance between you and him and look at him fascinated.

"How do you swing around? Lab-made fibers? It looks.. almost organic."

Peter tries not to flinch and holds his breath. He should've brought his breath mints. What if his breath stinks? He ate a string cheese before he left the apartment.

"I-I uh- I make them myself. It's web fluid. When it flys out of my web shooters, it solidifies into that flexible, strong stuff." He pulls up his sleeve to show you.

"Woah, how many cartridges do you need?" You run your fingers along the band around his wrist, staring curiously.

"They last a while, but I switch them out like every few weeks-"

"We're here." Happy yawns, taking the opportunity to stretch his arms.

"Thanks Hogan." You pat his shoulder from the backseat and get out of the car.

Peter blinked and all of the sudden, everyone filed out of the car. He frantically steps out, his eyes having a hard time adjusting to the sun.

"Here." You push him three inches to the side, bringing a shadow to shield the sun from his eyes. A really big shadow.

Peter can't help but let his mouth hang open.

"Just as flashy as I remember it dad." You said before stealing his sunglasses from his face and running to the doors.

"Hey, GENTLE! They're Dita! VINTAGE!" He shouts.

You giggled as you tried to frantically slide your keycard into the scanner that unlocked the doors.

"I'm gonna tell the receptionist they're a gift!" You yelled back before rushing inside.

This makes your dad quicken his pace, rummaging his pocket for his keycard.

Peter had never seen Tony like this before. There was someone who was alive, very real, and actually had authority over him. His child. Peter slowly catches up to Tony who's waving his credit card around the sensor.

"Sir.. I don't think that's the right card." He mumbled.

Tony looked down at his gold card, his brain short-circuiting for a moment.

After composing himself and taking out the correct card, Tony almost flung the door open, his eyes locked to you leaning over the front desk.

"Y/N!"

You turned around, the sunglasses nowhere to be found.

"Yeah?" You tilted your head innocently.

The receptionist takes this opportunity to go back to her typing after you finally stopped talking her ear off. She wasn't wearing them either.

Peter stood awkwardly behind Tony. He stared at the high ceiling and the enormous fish tank that stretched across the wall with fish he had a hard time telling if they were real.

"Gotcha." You reveal the sunglasses behind your back, handing them back to your father.

"Not my style.. Also probably not her's either. Right, Erin?"

The receptionist only shoots you a glance, her fingers never stop clacking on the keyboard.

"Kid, this way." Tony sighed, gesturing Peter and following you to an elevator.

Peter shyly makes his way to the corner of the elevator and staring at the array of buttons. He's never been in a building with over five floors, let alone a hundred.

"So... What are we doing exactly?" You asked your father.

"I thought I'd give the kid a tour." Tony says while he scrolls through his phone.

Peter fiddles with his hoodie's strings, unable to make eye contact as he's being mentioned.

"Oh." Tony stops.

"What?" You asked warily.

"I need to approve something. Something either dumb and obvious or an array of important decisions." Tony looks through his missed calls and rings a number.

"Tour my ass." You mumbled.

If superheroes do anything, they double book. Constantly.

The elevator dings and you and Peter file out. You turn around and Tony doesn't step off.

"You've been promoted to tour guide. Okay bye." Tony closes the elevator doors and you watch him descend to a lower floor.

"I went from being a child of nepotism to a tour guide? I don't consider that a promotion."

Peter was visibly dumbfounded. He was intimidated by Tony by some degree yes, but he already knew him. He's never been to the tower, and now he's alone with his child that could make or break his reputation here.

"...Dude?" You wave your hand over his face. From your perspective, ever since your dad went downstairs, Peter had been blankly staring at the floor.

"Hm?" Peter's eyes didn't leave the floor.

"Wanna meet Dr. Banner?" You smiled. It reminded Peter of a cat that knew it was doing the wrong thing.

Something about your expression told Peter you wanted to bother Bruce more than you wanted to introduce Peter to him.

After a string of trailing after you in hallways that looked like they were from the future, you slid open the keypad, and rapidly drew a complex pattern into it.

"Hey Dr. B."

"Woah." Peter's eyes wander throughout Bruce's lab. Holograms fill a lot of empty space.

"Hey mini Stark, hand me that slide rack will you?"

You were all smiles. Peter could see you were finally in your element.

"What are you doing now?" You peer over Bruce's shoulder.

"Not too close, unless you wanna put on a coat and some goggles." He says, eyes locked on the microscope.

You immediately run back to the doors, a nervous Peter Parker blocking the coat hanger.

"C'mon Peter." You enthusiastically put on a lab coat and fasten the glasses over your face. Without hesitation, you put another pair on Peter's face and throw him a coat.

You grab him by the sleeve just as he put on the coat and run back to Bruce.

"Dr. Banner, this is Peter." You smiled.

Bruce looks up from his microscope and gives a small wave.

"From what I've seen, I think he might be one of us." You chuckled.

"...And maybe one of you guys." You give Peter a teasing smile.

Peter let out a small and odd noise before clearing his throat.

"Dr. Banner, I'm a huge fan." Peter gushes.

"Hey, show him your webs." You pull his sleeve back.

Bruce’s eyes studied the webshooters.

"He's the spider guy." You say proudly.

Peter tries not to shake uncontrollably from a mix of embarrassment and excitement.

"Oh.. You made these?" Bruce blinks curiously.

Peter nods and tries to conceal his growing smile.

“He’s one of you guys. I told you.” You wink at Peter, only for him to see.

“That’s… how? How did you make these?” Bruce chuckled in disbelief.

“Can I borrow your whiteboard?” Peter asks.

After writing down the entire formula for the polymer he used for his webs, Peter finally slouches over. His work takes up a majority of the board.

Bruce stares in awe of Peter’s creation.

“Basically this is it.” Peter scratches the back of his neck.

“Visit any time kid.” Bruce chuckled, speechless. He gives Peter a pat on the shoulder.

“How about a snack?” You asked Peter.

“If you’re gonna pass this little audition with my dad, you should probably know where the kitchen is.” You sighed, pulling the goggles off your face.

“Are you sure you’re not just hungry?” Peter asks.

“Oh, I finally got the boy to let his guard down? Telling jokes now huh?” You laughed.

Peter shakes his head, smiling to the floor.

“I just met Bruce Banner.”

“Mhm.” You trail down a long hallway, to a shiny pair of doors that stretched from the floor to the ceiling. The kind of doors Peter would visualize any person having a hard time opening.

Behind the doors was a kitchen area bigger than the living room of his apartment. The marble top island was like his dining table.

“Take anything.” You said casually, fetching two spoons from a drawer.

Peter walks in like he’s just attended his own surprise party. When he opened the pantry he didn’t expect a wall of snacks.

“I like these.” Peter points to the bag of mini reese’s cups.

“Then bring the bag dummy.” You snorted and opened the freezer.

“How about some ice cream?”

Peter and you somehow moved all your snacks to the balcony and you started tearing away at them almost immediately.

“You brought a lot.” Peter unwraps a peanut butter cup while you sink your spoon into your coffee ice cream.

“What are you hinting at man?” You give him a glare.

“NO! God, no I meant I don’t want to eat all this food, it’s- it’s not mine I’m sorry I didn’t mean it like that.” By the end of Peter’s sentence he pops the candy in his mouth, defeated.

“I’m messing with you. Dig in. Seriously though Cap is on a new diet he found on this dumb blog. I never should’ve gave him an iPad for Christmas.” You rolled you eyes.

“It’s mostly my snacks now. Sometimes Natasha eats with me when I bother her enough.”

“Cap? Cap as in?” Peter knew the answer but needed a confirmation. There was no way he could be convinced he’s in the very building where all these heroes roam around.

“Captain America.”

“And Nat?”

“Oh, Black Widow.” You say in a sultry voice.

“That’s my lady. We watch dumb movies when I come around here.” You added.

“That’s.. wow. You see them often?” Peter takes a spoon and digs into the ice cream too.

“I guess.” You shrugged.

“Just so you know, they’re all lame like me. Not as cool as you think.” You grinned at the memories you had of them hanging around.

Peter shook his head.

“You’re not lame. You’re cool. I don’t think anyone else can mess with Tony Stark like you can.” Peter chuckled.

You look down and take another scoop of ice cream.

“…Not that he’s the only reason why you’re cool. You’re so smart and really funny.” And really pretty. But he wasn’t going to say that.

“Thanks. You’re pretty cool too.”

Peter let out a dry laugh.

“No. I’m not. You should see me at school seriously. It varies from being invisible to being a-”

“Don’t call yourself a loser or a nerd before I do a flip off this balcony.” You groaned.

“Besides, what’s a nerd if not a person in the wrong environment?” You give him a nudge.

“This is an environment where nerds thrive… And the occasional superhuman.” You added.

“Then why aren’t you getting recruited possibly, like I am?” Peter asked.

“My parents won’t ever let that happen.” You sighed, opening a bag of spicy chips.

“Maybe in the future, I’ll be one of these guys, we’ll be older, and we can convince your parents.” He said.

“You’re so innocent.” You laughed. “But yeah. If you somehow land a spot here, you have to help me get in too.”

Peter held out his pinky.

“..What are you doing?” You raised an eyebrow.

“I…pinky promise.” Peter held a stern expression. For the world’s best tour guide, he was willing to keep his word.

“Okay, swear?” You held out your pinky.

“Swear.”

[erule]

Twice

Pairing: Peter Parker x Fem!Stark!reader

Summary: you and Peter have been rivals for a lot of time, until one day everything changes. But it’s the same old story: you love him, he loves you, then you die and he doesn’t have the chance confess his endless love for you. Or is it?

Warnings: spoilers from Avengers: Endgame, reader is Tony’s daughter, Peter and reader are 18+ here, fluff, a lot of angst, enemies to friends to lovers, happy ending though

Word count: 2084

A/N: Hi! I just wanted to write something after a long time. Hope you like it. Let me know what you think in the comments, if you want 

Taglist: @imawhoreforyou, @blankspaceblankday, @sarahcameronswife, @belovedholland.

Main Materlist: here.

Twice.

I believe that things in life happen twice, like getting a job offer or falling in love. For instance, I fell in love twice. The first one was in high school, with my classmate, but he didn’t want me. The second one was with Peter, but he didn’t want me either. I guess that some things never change. Sometimes, if you’re very lucky, things can also happen thrice, but it’s rare that some trains pass in front of you. This kind of fortune never really occurred to me, that’s why I still think that things in life happen twice. When you don’t understand the occasion, it comes along again for you to see it and finally take it. Maybe that’s why I died twice.

But let’s go back to the beginning, shall we?

Did it never happen to you to die in a metaphorical way? Like when you feel a pain in your heart that doesn’t go away, a deaf heavy brick onto your chest. So you try to breathe, but every rib hurts when you try to do so. Well, this happened to me when Peter told me that he kissed MJ. I was his best friend, I should have been happy for him, but I couldn’t. The reason is obvious: I was in love with him. Common, right? You’re probably thinking that. Our friendship didn’t begin like that, though. We were rivals at first, even enemies sometimes, because my dad preferred to work with him and not with me. I mean, I had Morgan, my younger sister, but it wasn’t enough for me. I needed him to actually see me. Now I regret it. Anyway, before we grew closer, I couldn’t stand Peter and he couldn’t stand me. We used to bicker all the time, until one night. One single night. 

“Hi”, I said.

It changed my entire life.

“Hey”.

“What’s up?”

“I’m just hungry”, he replied, while looking into the fridge.

“Wanna know a secret?” I asked him. He turned in order to look at me. There was a spark of genuine curiosity in his gaze, but I was staring at his half smile on his face, a ghost of something that he didn’t use with me.

“Shoot”.

“The best food is not in the kitchen,” I replied. “It’s actually in my room”.

He grinned at me.

“Wow Y/N, I didn’t know you were this naughty. I thought you hated me. Turns out you just wanted something from me”.

I laughed out loud.

“You’re mistaken, Spidey. I just wanted to be kind, but turns out you’re a jerk. Goodnight, I’m gonna eat my marshmallows alone”.

“Wait, are you for real? True marshmallows? I’m coming,” he said and I smiled at him, truly happy. I didn’t have many friends at school, so I was glad to finally have somebody to hang out with, even if it was my rival.

Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t hate Peter, I just wanted my dad’s love, that’s all. Besides, it was impossible to hate Peter: he was the light when everybody came into the room. He made everybody comfortable and he reassured who needed a kind word. I admired him. Today I wouldn’t have treated him like that.

“I actually have one request,” I said, when he sat on my bed, while looking around.

“I knew it”.

“Spidey-sense?”

“No, I just know you, I guess,” he said and I felt a knot in my stomach. “Anyway, anything for you. I’m so hungry!”

“What if I’d ask you something terrible?” I asked him, while giving him some marshmallows on a plate. “What if you were wrong?” 

Maybe I wasn’t talking about him, but about myself. I was so concerned not to be Tony Stark’s perfect daughter, that somehow I acted like that just so people could be right about me. Maybe I was just worried to be an evil person.

But he shrugged. Peter ate a marshmallow, looked straight into my eyes and said: “You’re not what you think you are, Y/N. Trust me, I would know”.

“Because you know me?”

“No, because of my Spidey-sense, you silly little girl,” he said and I chuckled. Then, his face became so serious it almost scared me. “You know, Ned warned me about you once”.

“Oh, really? Why?” I asked, while sitting next to him.

“He said that you’re trouble”.

“Trouble?”

“Yeah, like staring directly at the Sun. It’s kinda dope, though. You’re more like the Moon, but still. The Moon is so pretty and strong”.

“Strong? Why?”

“Yeah, because it takes courage to stay in the sky without anybody in the dark”.

“Oh, well, but the Moon has the stars. They’re like soldiers: they protect her”.

Peter looked at me while eating another marshmallow, as if he was really thinking about what I said, then he nodded.

“I agree. I can be your star,” he said. “I’ll protect you. From now on, we’re friends,” he stated. 

I smiled at him.

“Thanks, friend”.

“You’re welcome,” he said. “Oh, what did you wanna ask me?”

I didn’t actually have anything to ask him. Maybe I just wanted some accompany that night, because I couldn’t sleep either. His words changed me, though. I wanted to return the favor in some way.

“One day, I’m gonna ask you to promise me something and you’ll have to keep your word”.

He brought a hand to his heart and swore to do so.

“Okay”.

And that was the night I fell in love with Peter Parker. 

Some years after that, when we were at university, he broke my heart when he told me he kissed MJ. 

“Why do I feel like you’re not happy about it?” He asked me. 

How do you explain to somebody that you’re drowning in your own thought? In your own blood, in your own bones. It’s like you’re disappearing, but you really don’t. You just wish you could.

“Because I don’t really like her”.

“You’re kinda the same person, actually,” he said and it really hurt me.

“What?”

“No, wait, I didn’t mean to…”

“If you think that you can replace me with her, you can do it. It’s fine,” I said, shutting the door behind me.

“Y/N! I didn’t mean to say that! I just wanted… I just… I don’t know,” he sighed, then I heard him sitting on the floor, his back on the door and his breath so distant from my skin. He stayed silent for a couple of minutes, that’s why I thought he went away. I could still hear his heartbeat through the door though, since I was with my back on it like him. “You’re irreplaceable, to me. I just wanted to say that you’re similar to MJ, that’s it. You’re two black cats. I’m sorry”.

I remained silent for some time, then I sighed: it was impossible to stay angry at him for more than two minutes straight.

“That makes you a golden retriever, then?” I asked and he chuckled.

“I guess so”.

I wanted to tell him. I wanted to tell him that I was in love with him then and that I had been for years, but the words wouldn’t come up to my mouth. Besides, he was in love with someone else. We were just friends and it had to be enough for me.

“Hey, Peter?”

“Yes, Y/N?”

“I learned that stars that shine the brightest do that because they’re dying. I shouldn’t do that”.

“Do what? Shine?”

“Die,” I said. “You’re not allowed to die. Okay?”

“Okay”.

I didn’t know it then, but I’d have been the one to die.

Thanos was… a lot of things. And Peter was a lot of things to me. So when I had to choose what to do, it was simple. My Dad didn’t want me to be there, but I was on the battlefield. I saw people fight, die give everything they could. It was terrific. But I was there to protect Peter, because I knew that he couldn’t do that alone, despite him being so strong all the time. Because he was like me. 

“Y/N?” He shouted, when he saw me. He was surprised and scared at the same time. “You shouldn’t be here!” 

“I should!” I said, while I was fighting with one of Thanos’ soldiers.

“If anything happens to you, I swear…”

“Nothing will happen!” I said, while he was winning against some soldier.

“Mr. Stark will be very disappointed!”

Yes, he was.

“He’ll understand!”

No, he didn’t.

“Why are you here?” Peter asked me, while he was close enough to put his hands on my shoulders. I had an armor, but it was useless when he looked into my eyes. I melted like a silly little girl.

“You know why,” I said and I prayed that he understood it. My heart clenched.

He gulped.

“I don’t”.

“You shine brighter than me. I can’t allow you to die,” I replied.

“This doesn’t make any sense, Y/N. I won’t leave you here. I’ll take you home”.

“You will,” I said. “You have to. You promised. Don’t follow me. You have to keep your word, remember? If Thanos kills me…”

“No, Y/N, no…”

“If Thanos kills me,” I continued, “you won’t look for revenge. Is it clear?”

“Y/N…”

“Is it clear?” I repeated, determined. He nodded. “Good”.

You’re asking yourself how I knew that, right? Well, I didn’t. But I knew Peter. I knew that he would have followed me anywhere, because I would have done that too. 

Then, everything happened all at once. My Dad saw me from the distance. He called out my name, but I didn’t hear him. I was disappearing. Peter looked at me in disbelief, too astonished to talk. That was me dying twice. 

“Remember me,” I said, while trying to hug him, but it was like my muscles were too tired to even embrace him. I was slowly falling asleep.

“Y/N? Y/N?” He called. “I love you! I love you!” He screamed, his voice a desperate heartbreak into the air. “I love you!”

When my dad reached out to him, it was already too late for me. 

***

When Peter came back from the cemetery, he didn’t expect to see Tony Stark at his university, after five years. He knew that Y/N came to the battle just to protect Peter, so he hated him because if his eldest daughter died was his fault. But now he knew what to do in order to bring her back and he needed his help to do it. 

“Mr. Stark,” Peter said, surprised. “I didn’t expect to see you here”.

“It’s her death anniversary, I know, but I had other things to do,” he said. “I know how to bring her back, Peter, but I need you to come with me”.

Peter shaked his head.

“I don’t understand: I thought that you hated me”.

“Y/N always said that nobody could really hate you and she was right”.

Peter smiled at him, his lips trembling.

“I broke up with MJ the day before the battle. I wanted to tell her, but I never got the chance. I thought that she didn’t want me”.

Tony put a hand on his shoulder, a warm smile on his face.

“There’s not a world in which she doesn’t want you, I fear”.

That being said, they were coming back to the past with the other Avengers in order to save Y/N and the people who had died because of Thanos. Tony was the first one to see Y/N coming back from the dead.

“Peter!” He called.

Peter turned and he saw Y/N. It was like coming back from a dream. She was finally back into his arms and he wouldn’t have let her go, this time. He dipped his nose into the crook of her neck and inhaled her scent. It was so real it made his heart ache. If he could have exchanged his place with her in all those years, he would have done so. He would have done anything to make her live a normal life. Being without her meant not living, but barely floating on the surface.

“I’m in love with you,” he said. “I’ve been for most of my life, actually. Since that night we ate the marshmallows together”.

He saw her bring her hands on her heart, tilting her head with tears in her eyes.

“And you’re my light, Peter. You always have been”.

Then he hugged her again and it felt like coming home.  

[thollandneedy]

Masked- Peter Parker

A/N: Since y'all enjoyed so much the Ned's sister prompt... (last halloween themed fic btw)

Summary: Peter hooks up with someone on a Halloween party, but he didn't know that it was Ned's sister

Warnings: Language, teasing, mentions of alcohol, sexual content (p in v; fem!receiving, and praise kink)

Don’t forget to share, like, comment and leave your ideas here

Bellah’s Masterlist 🪻

The sound of classic Halloween songs blared from the speakers scattered around Ned's house, while the wind blew the orange leaves into his yard. The boy in the Zorro costume cursed to himself every time he saw the leaves falling, as it would be another chore to do the next morning, since his parents were out of the house. With hurried steps, he ran to the door to open it for the guests of his not-so-secret party (since his younger sister had told the whole school that there would be a party at her house on the thirty-first).

Unlike Ned, Y/n was considered popular in Midtown because of her charisma and, above all, her beauty. Like her brother, she had inherited good genes and had a mental capacity to envy. The girl was only a year younger than Ned, and yet he made a point of treating her like a child. After many fights and discussions to find a theme that met his sister's “aesthetic pinterest” requirements, Ned agreed to have a masquerade costume party where everyone had to wear personalized masks for their characters to “encourage creativity” in his words.

Although it wasn't much talked about, everyone knew that Ned and his family were well-off, and that consequently their house was big enough to easily house more than 100 people without them all bumping into each other. Ned looks back one more time before opening the door, already leaving a jar of sweets at the entrance for the guests to pick up as soon as they arrive at the house. The dark-haired man opens the door, only to find Peter standing there, while other cars are already parking so as not to have any problems, but late in the day with a lack of space on the street.

“What's up, man?” Ned smiles when he finds his best friend, Peter Parker, dressed as the Phantom of the Opera. “I liked the costume, but I thought you'd come as Zorro with me.”

Peter wasn't one to talk about liking musicals, but one of the few ones he really admired was “The Phantom of the Opera”, which became one of his secret passions after his aunt took him to see it on Broadway a few years ago. Parker didn't have his face completely hidden as it should have been, but it was what he had for that day, and he was going to use that to his advantage rather than spend more time making an artwork that would probably look terrible.

“That one was on sale.” The student says quietly, then laughs and enters the house as soon as the door closes behind him.

The house was decorated with mainly purple and blue neon lights, while the windows bore handprints smeared with fake blood. On some walls you could see some mystical beings pasted on, while some projected ghosts were flying over the kitchen ceiling. Cobwebs were used on furniture, themed food was displayed on the kitchen worktop, and the rest of the decoration was based on cushions, candles and decorative utensils.

“Let me think about who did all the decorating.” Peter looks around, admiring Ned's sister's creativity.

“Don't even tell me about it.” Ned rolls his eyes. “I told Y/n to keep it simple, but you know how she is about parties. It always has to be her way, or she'll freak out.” Ned comments, taking a seat among the decorative pumpkin cushions in the living room.

The sound of the doorbell ringing catches the boys' attention, while Leeds spares no effort to call out his sister's name so that she can welcome the guests. The girl doesn't answer, causing her older brother to curse to himself and shout once more:

“Y/N. COME DOWN HERE AND WELCOME THE GUESTS ALREADY.”

“I'M FINISHING MY HAIR, YOU SELFISH PRICK. I DON'T HURRY YOU WHEN YOU'RE TAKING TOO LONG TO GET READY TO GO OUT WITH BETTY” The girl shouts, opening the door to her room and then slamming it shut.

“Son of a bitch.” Ned puts one of his hands to his face, getting up from the sofa to greet his sister's guests, while Peter reacts with a low laugh. “Make yourself at home, Pete. My sister will be down soon, and you talk to her.”

(...)

The sound of the conversations seemed to overpower the loud music, and apparently Y/n's idea was working. The girl had the masks in mind so that there would be no differentiation between groups of friends, allowing everyone to express themselves as they saw fit, and to be able to talk to people outside their group of friends without feeling threatened. Y/n was sitting at the kitchen table, her two hands resting on the side of her body as she chatted with some friends. Her white dress hugged her hips, while her loose hair only enhanced her beauty.

From afar, it was possible to see the house full. Some were in the living room playing “Just Dance”, while others were in the kitchen drinking and some in the games room using the pool table for their drinks bets. Fortunately, it wasn't as rowdy as university parties, but Ned was certainly a lot more worried about someone using his motel room. The student was sitting in the living room, watching his colleagues from the robotics class sweating in their costumes as they danced to 'Timber', and doing extremely badly. Peter, on the other hand, was chatting to some girls in his class.

Peter Parker never stopped being a nerd, but he also never stopped being extremely attractive. Many girls liked Peter, while the boys didn't know whether to try to befriend Parker in order to benefit from the girls, or just swear at him so that he would lose their confidence.

“I didn't know you were in a couple.” One of the girls dressed as Doroty commented to the brunette.

“I'm not.” Peter commented, grimacing and looking around in search of a twin of his costume.

“That girl is wearing the Christine Daaé costume,” another girl pointed out, causing the brunette to turn quickly to face her.

She was beautiful, delicate and her eyes were mesmerizing. Her legs were exposed, while her feet wore low heels in the same pearly color as her dress. The girl also had little sparkly star-shaped clips in her curly babylined hair. Her mask was white with lace around it, making her eyes stand out even more

It was sexy, tempting, intriguing.

“Do you know who it is? Her mask doesn't let me identify who it is.” The brunette commented, still watching the girl who was laughing at other people's conversations with her apparent friends.

“Go and ask.” The other girl dressed as Glinda comments, watching as Peter says goodbye and heads in the direction of his character's romantic partner.

Peter approaches with slow steps, adjusting his mask and cape, trying not to look strange as he approaches her, but before he can say anything, the girl calls out to him with a smile on her face, waving one of her hands at him.

“Hi, Peter.” The girl calls out.

“Hi.” He replies awkwardly. “I like your costume.” He points to the white dress, along with the corset that makes her breasts look higher.

“And I like yours.” She replied, realizing that he hadn't recognized her.

Y/n was no different from her classmates, and the other girls in the other classes. Y/n would never tell her brother about the little crush she had on her brother's best friend, but she always watched from afar. Taking advantage of the fact that she was wearing a mask, she thought she could use this to her advantage. Because if he didn't recognize her, maybe she could try something more like the way she daydreamed when she had her imaginary scenarios before bed. She was his best friend's sister, and if he knew that, he would never try anything.

“Are you friends with Ned's sister?” The girl asked, getting off the workbench and approaching the brunette, who came closer to her ear so she could speak.

“I know her, but I don't talk to her that much. Whenever I come here to study with Ned or play video games, she's doing something. Or at school in the drama club, or book club, or at the mall with her friends, or even sleeping in her four-poster. Anyway, it's very difficult for us to meet other than at school.” The boy says loudly into the girl's ear, who agrees with a smile on her face as she feels him close to her.

“Have you and Ned been friends for a long time?” The girl stands on her tiptoes to comment in the costume designer's ear.

“We have been for quite a while, actually. Since they were 12, and you? Are you friends with his sister?” Peter asks, leaving Y/n against the wall at his question.

She didn't want to lie to Peter, because if he found out about this little lie, he might look at her with different eyes. The girl just nodded, turning quickly to the side, where some drinks were positioned on the counter decorated with cobwebs and toy spiders. The girl faced the table, picked up a red cup, and looked at Peter as if to ask if he wanted a drink. Peter doesn't usually drink, but he would, just to be able to keep up with the mysterious girl.

“What do you recommend?” He moves closer, standing with his shoulders side by side with hers.

“What do you like?” The girl asks, opening the clear bottle of vodka.

“Girls dressed as Christine Daaé.” He tucks a piece of Y/n's loose hair behind her ear, causing the girl to let out a low laugh and nod. “And you?”

Y/n stares at him, making a point of penetrating him with her eyes, as if he could be restrained alive by intention alone. The younger girl approaches, raising her head to answer him as he narrows his gaze:

“Boys with attitude… and tequila sunrise” Y/n comments, drawing a silly laugh from Peter.

At that moment, not even the people passing by could make the tension disappear from the air, and only those who could feel the heat of desire take over their bodies were attracted. Peter wasn't the type to do things quickly, as he liked to pay attention to detail, but it was a party and not a play for him to declare himself. The girl looked at the table with several bottles on it, stared at them for a few seconds, and then turned her gaze to Peter once more, waiting for him to do something other than talk. Fortunately, the brunette slid one of his fingers down the younger girl's exposed arm, reaching her free hand and saying:

“Do you want to go somewhere else?”

(...)

The music and side conversations were no longer loud, and there was a certain peace wherever they were going. Y/n had her hands intertwined with Peter's, guiding him into a room that was being used as an office. It was large, with dark wooden shelves and a glass table in the center behind a large window that mirrored the moonlight. Y/n and Ned's parents were realtors in New York, but the bad part was that they also owned an agency, which meant that every month they had to travel out of state to resolve or improve an issue in the company.

Y/n closed the white door behind her, allowing Peter to step away from her and look at the books on the shelves, and some paintings too. Y/n was easily charmed by Peter's knowledge, as he was good at everything he did and knew a bit about everything. The brunette gently touched the base of the books, pulling them out to read their titles. The girl didn't hurry, she just followed him, putting her hands on his shoulders and kissing his neck without pulling him away, but Peter wasn't there to look at books.

The boy turned to the clean, innocent image that Y/n was passing by, putting his hands on her waist and finally pressing his lips to hers. The kiss began slowly, increasing in intensity as their tongues caught fire and their hands roamed their bodies. Parker moaned softly against the younger girl's lips, holding onto her waist tighter and tighter, waiting for the slightest sign that he could lose himself completely in the mysterious girl's body. Y/n, for his part, ran his nails down the buttons of his white shirt, slowly unbuttoning them.

And that was the last straw

“Can I touch you?” Peter asked breathlessly.

“Please.” Y/n asked in a low grunt, causing the boy to hold her in his lap, placing her on the glass table.

Peter put his weight on Y/n, lifting the rest of the dress that fell down her legs, to finally reach her smooth thighs. The girl tilted her head back, as if asking him to go deeper. Peter could feel his pants getting tighter and tighter, while his fingers seemed to search for a treasure in the middle of Y/n's legs, leaving him completely kneeling for her. He quickly removed his mask, throwing it on the floor and enjoying the wet core that was already waiting for him. Peter held Y/n's thighs tightly, pulling her closer to his mouth, which couldn't seem to take the pleasure. His tongue slid between her clitoris and her entrance, painting her orgasm in an explosion of guarded feelings. The girl held tightly to Parker's hair, which was now messy.

“Fuck, you taste amazing,” Peter said against her wet pussy.

“Keep going, please.” The girl pleaded desperately, having her request granted as soon as she felt the student's tongue enter her pussy. “That's fucking it!”

Peter stood up, noticing that Y/n's legs already seemed to be shaking. In a moment of anguish and desire, he held her from behind, allowing her to taste him. They both moaned in satisfaction, allowing the younger girl to touch Peter's penis, which marked his pants. Y/n bent down, trying to unbutton Peter's pants, quickly unzipping them and placing the black fabric on the floor. When the girl tried to put her feet on the carpet and kneel down, Peter stopped her with a kiss and denied her with his head, saying:

“I want you.” He said with swollen lips. “Do you want me?”

Y/n doesn't respond, but his body does. His hair stood on end, and his legs spread wider so that he could fit in. Quickly taking off his underpants and throwing them to a forgotten side of the room, Peter pumped his penis a few times, and you could see the glow that his tip exuded from his over-excitement. The brunette kept his hands strong, biting his lip to control the loud moans that begged to come out. Y/n just watched, putting her hands behind her corset to untie her belly, which was compressed by the garment. They both stared at each other for a moment, appreciating their bodies from top to bottom, exuding their desire through their sin-subdued gazes.

“Shit. The condom is in my wallet pocket that was left in the car.” Peter remembers, cursing under his breath for having forgotten the fact.

“I take birth control. It's fine.” She says, knowing that Peter would be trustworthy enough to use the privilege of using a contraceptive.

“Really?” Parker questions her to make sure of what she was saying.

“Yes.” She shakes her head energetically.

Peter moves closer to Y/n, already feeling that his legs would collapse just from her touch. Y/n bites her lower lip at the image of the boy entering her sensitive spot, absorbing all of her thickness to the point where the girl in the white dress puts her own hand over her mouth to cover the loud moan that escapes her pink lips. Peter holds her by the waist, while the girl's body is practically leaning over the table, giving the brunette room to reach the bottom of the woman's pussy. They can both feel their sweaty skins coming into contact, and the sound of them slapping together as the movement increases.

“Peter.” The girl moans.

“Do you like it? Tell me how you like it.” The brunette asked, furrowing his brows as he moaned lowly, waiting for an answer.

“I've wanted you for so long. You have no idea.” Y/n moans louder, feeling the tip of Peter's penis hit her G-spot.

“We should have done this before then, princess. You fit me so well.” He grunts, increasing his speed and feeling his legs tremble with each thrust.

“You wouldn't notice me.” She comments impatiently and slyly.

“It's impossible for me not to notice someone like you, angel.” He stretches his hand out to one of the woman's breasts, making her place one of her hands on top of his, indirectly asking him to squeeze them. “I'm going to come like this, princess.”

“Me too. Please don't stop.”

Y/n moved her hips, searching for more pleasure, following the movements of the older man who, in a few seconds, hugged her tightly, putting his member in much deeper than before, ejaculating his hot liquid at the same time as his partner dug her pink nails into his shirt, screaming into his shoulder with her legs wrapped around his hips. Their legs tremble and their mouths return to a calm, wet kiss, catching their breath and slowly pulling their faces apart until their eyes penetrate each other once more, even interpreted in such a dirty way that it could be considered a crime.

“Are you all right?” Peter asks, running one of his hands through Y/n's messy hair.

“Yeah, and you?“ Y/n asks.”Shit, my friends must be looking for me.”

“Sure, mine too.” Peter agrees, slowly withdrawing his member from Y/n's vagina, and looking for the rest of her clothes while the girl re-ties her corset. “I still don't know your name.” Peter comments.

“And would it be important to know?” Y/n smiles softly, watching him only in the moonlight.

“Not really.” Peter comments, finishing putting on his pants, which were lying on the floor. “I wasn't surprised you chose Phantom of the Opera, by the way.” Peter commented, pointing with his chin at the girl's outfit that had come down from the table.

“And why not?” Y/n fixes her hair, tilting her head to one side as soon as Peter asks.

“Because I was the one who left the flowers in your dressing room after you finished your performance, Y/n. By the way, great idea to reuse the costume. You look hot in it.” Peter buttons up his white blouse.

Y/n stops for a second, realizing that she wasn't as cunning as she thought she was. The girl opens her mouth to try to say something, but realizes it was all a game. Peter walks over to her, finishing buttoning his last button. The brunette bends down to pick up his mask and then puts it on, still watching Y/n's perplexed face.

“Why didn't you tell me you knew who I was?”

“Isn't that what masks were for?” Peter gives a sideways smile, kissing the top of Y/n's head gently.

The boy turns around, opening the door and leaving the room.

“ Motherfucker” Y/n curses him, smiling at his incredulity.

[thefearedashantis]

Use Your Words

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Peter isn’t listening

Warning: None

'Do you still love me?'

The question clangs painfully against the back of your clenched teeth when Peter mumbles ‘mhmm?’ for the fifth time throughout your story. The sudden urge to question his affections almost unbearable as you stand off to the side of his desk, still sweaty and in your outside shoes having been in a rush to tell him about your day. Heart leaping with joy over the compliment you’d received from a classmate in your poetry workshop.

“And then he bent me over and fucked me on the profs desk while everyone watched”

“Mhmm”

At least Ned and MJ were listening where they lounged about the room, albeit rosy in the cheeks. They encourage you to continue as if any of this could be remotely true.

“In fact, he asked me when we’d be able to make sweet love again.”

“Mhmm”

“Figured I could pencil a date in for next week seeing as I’ll probably be single by then”

“Yeah? That’s great junebug.”

Peter has not once lifted his gaze away from his laptop. The light of the screen reflecting off his glasses, casting a soft blue haze over his features.

Your two friends sensing the oncoming argument scuttle off silently to the kitchen with the excuse of wanting snacks.

“Petey?”

“Yes my love?”

“You know, if you want to break up all you have to do is say so.”

“Mhmm.”

You’re halfway to the door when his brows pinch inward. Shaking his head quickly, Peter struggles to rewind the conversation in between a slew of agonizingly complicated equations. His brain chugging along much slower than he’d like, than he's used to.

“Wait what?”

“I think I'll head home for the day, see you later," you mumble. You had some lectures to catch up with anyway.

He finally breaks away from the device, lowering the lid slightly “Wait bug what did you say?"

“Nothing.”

“No, you said something. Repeat it for me"

“I shouldn’t have to repeat it. You should have heard it the first time.” You spit over your shoulder, reaching for the doorknob.

Peters up, trailing behind you on long legs “Now hold on a minute, that's not fair.”

“And I wouldn’t be so bothered if this was a once in a while thing, but it's becoming an everytime thing! I come back after a good day or even a bad one, and I try telling you about it, and you sit there more focused on the performance of listening than actually listening." And what a performance it was. Leaning in, nodding with the occasional smile or eye contact or frown or gasp or laugh. All without actually having heard a word you said.

You listened to any and everything he had to share with enthusiasm and even questions to follow.

“That’s not true! I was listening.”

You cross your arms over your chest with a sceptical tic in your jaw “Ok, then what did my classmate say about my poetry?”

Peter stops in his tracks “um”

“quickly.”

“He said it was lovely?” You had used the word lovely in your story, but the questioning pitch of his voice has you fleeing all the same. He didn't know for sure if that was what you said.

Your fingers have just wrapped around the cool metal of the knob when all of a sudden your wrist is pinned to the door by a sticky white substance. A beat of silence resonates through the room before you're whirling on your boyfriend with twice as much annoyance as before.

“You did not just web me!” You yell

“Everything's happening too fast!” Peter wails, arm still extended from trapping you, pupils wide.

“Well allow me to excuse myself while the boy genius catches up,” you say, going for your keys. You'd use them to saw your way free, no matter how long it took. But as soon as you wiggle them free from your pocket, another web shoots out and sticks your free arm to the other side of the door. The keys clank uselessly to the ground. “Stop doing that!”

“Stop trying to leave!”

“If I don’t go now ill be late for my date with someone who actually cares about what I have to say!”

“I do care about what you have to say!" The wet rasp of his confession immediately extinguishs your anger. With a predatory focus, you hone in on the abrupt glossy sheen of his eyes, the rosy tint creeping up his neck. The way he starts to shift his weight from foot to foot, rubbing his plams against the abrasive material of his jeans. His lips tremble, pale with the force of his trying to keep them still. "I-" He chokes. Stops. Gaze snapping up to the ceiling before running to you. Working his jaw back and forth as if the words are fighting him, refusing to be spoken, "I've just been really fumbling with the whole juggling school and spidermanning lately.”

The sentence seems to zap what little energy he has. He stumbles in what you assume to be relief, to sit down on his bed. Removing his glasses, he tosses them without care, pressing his knuckles into his eyes and scrubbing at them cruely “…’m tired”

You watch in silence as Peter closes in on himself. He uses his hands to muffle his sniffles, but in doing so, allows a few salty drops to escape and slip along the slope of his nose. Falling from the tip, a row of tiny dark splots begins to form on his shirt. His tears only drip faster as the minutes tick by. His chest stuttering erratically with the task of inhaling and exhaling.

It makes you feel shitty but you don't try to comfort him.

You remain still and quiet as to not disturb the moment in fear that if Peter remembers you're there, he'll attempt to compose himself when all he really needs is to let it out.

When he's cried himself dry, you probe lightly “are you eyes hurting you again?”

He doesn't raise his head. You're faced with knots and tangles of brown “mhmm.”

“words please parker.”

“So much” he gasps, seemingly renewed with sorrow.

This is the boy, you realize, the one Aunt May has told you about amongst the shadows and hush of night. When you sleep over on weekends and wake up longing for a cold glass of water, slipping from bed a little while before dawn only to find her already up, never having actually gone to bed.

The boy who tries to shield his gentle soul behind humour and smarts. Who often takes on much more than he can handle to satisfy others, and is content to crush himself beneath the weight of responsibility if only to let one more person rest easy that day. The one who yearns to please above all else.

Peter often suffers from aches and pains, comes with the territory, but his facial discomfort has been a persistent problem of late. A deep soreness in his cheekbones, temples, behind his eyes, that no pain killer seemed to relieve.

“temple massage?”

“Please?”

With a final sniffle, Peters back on his feet. Swaying over, he makes quick work of freeing you. Pressing shy kisses of apology to your wrists.

No longer having it in you to be upset, you swat him back towards the bed, getting comfortable in your usual postions. Your back propped up on the pillows, Peter sprawled across your lap, face plastered against your tummy. His arms loop around your thighs, fingers playing with the stiching on your pants.

Retrieving the oil and comb from his sidetable, you set to work untangling his hair before you get to the real job of massaging his scalp and temples. A repetitive activity that allows you both time to think about what you've been truly wanting to say.

“You make me feel so invisible sometimes." You start. Peters' hair is soft despite being so uncared for. You comb back his bangs, cupping his face gently and shifting it to look up at you "like it doesn’t matter if I’m here or not. I know you're a busy person, and i accept and love that part of you. But all i ask is five minutes where we act like I'm not some annoyance.”

Insecurity was something you'd fought tooth and nail to rid yourself of over the course of your relationship. Not only a genius but a superhero , being interested in a mere arts major certainly took a toll on the psyche. Sometimes, you caught yourself slipping back into not so nice thoughts and behaviours.

A flash of hurt strikes across Peters face. When he speaks, warmth puffs under the hem of your shirt “I’m sorry. I'm not doing it on purpose. I love having you around and hearing about your day. It's the most relaxing part of my own."

“That’s why you need to tell me when you’re feeling overwhelmed so I can support you in the way you need. I never want you to feel like that.” Like there's nobody in his corner paying attention to his needs.

You accept the apology and continue with your work of destressing your boyfriend. His eyes fall shut after a time and you think he's fallen asleep, familiar with post cry exhaustion when,

“He said you write with patience, giving every word the chance to be what it wants to be” Peter whispers.

“Now, was that before or after he stuck his tongue down my throat?”

“Bug” he groans, springing up. He playfully shoves you back with an exaggerated scowl. You roll to your side, giggling at your own antics. Peter closes in. Slotting a thigh between your legs to lay his body against yours, smothering you with his elevated temperature.

“Trick question! It wasn’t his tongue he stuck down my throat.”

Another howl of disgust rips free from Peter “I hate you!”

“liar!”

Divider: @sister-lucifer

[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.

[ocinstar]

Cat nap

Peter parker x fem!reader

Summary: after a long mission, you end up falling asleep on the shoulder of a certain spider boy.

Cw: blurb, fluff

A/n: I've been struggling with such bad writers block, so here's a blurb i managed to write. (Sorry if its not the best 😭)

Wc: 616

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Peter and I groaned in unison as we sat down on the jet. We sat there in complete silence, both our bodies aching after the 2 hour long mission we had just had. As the jet rose off the ground and took off, I felt my eyes grow tired.

"I never wanna stand again." I leaned back against the wall and blew the strand of hair that had fallen on my face away. All I got from peter in response was a weak groan of agreement. He leaned back with a huff, rolling his head to look at me.

"Do you think Mr. Stark will let me nap on his couch?" I turned my head to him.

"If he doesn't I'll put fart spray in his helmet." He gave me a tired chuckle. His loopy smile, tired eyes and messed up hair almost made me forget the aching pain across my whole body. Peter had a talent for making me feel better, or making me forget what there was to feel better about.

We both turn our heads forward, falling into a comfortable silence. The heat radiating from peter onto my arm and the quiet hum of the jet had my eyes feeling heavy. I found myself struggling to keep my head from tilting, slowly falling towards peter. I fought to stay awake, but soon enough my eyes closed and sleep overtook me.

~~~

I let out a surprise gasp as i felt something hit my shoulder. I glanced over, feeling my heart start to race upon seeing a sleeping y/n. Her face was serine, calm breathing and a few strands of hair tickled her cheeks.

I felt my face heat up, turning a light shade of pink. I could hardly believe this was reality, that she was really asleep on my shoulder. My shoulder! The girl of my dreams, my long term crush, was now peacefully sleeping on me. I know she didn't mean to, that it was an accident, but yet that didn't stop the nervous smile creep up on my face.

I did my beat to stay perfectly still, doing my best not to wake her. She shifted her head slightly, causing more hair to fall on her face. Her nose twitched, insinuating the hairs were tickling her. I cautiously moved my hand to move from her face and tuck it behind her ear. She hummed lightly, a sound that made me weirdly happy.

I didn't move a muscle as she continued to nap peacefully on my shoulder. She stayed there for the entire ride home. Bucky and sam took notice of my situation and naturally teased me about it, making jokes and jabs for the other half of the ride.

It pained me when we landed, since that meant i had to wake her up. I contemplated not waking her, staying on the jet till she woke up on her own. But i assumed she'd want to sleep in her comfortable bed rather then my hard shoulder. So I called to her softly and shook my shoulder lightly. I watched as her eyes fluttered open, her gorgeous eyes now revealed.

"Hey there sleeping beauty." I joked softly. She looked ul at me, her eyes still hooded and half asleep. She gave me a tired, loopy smile and sat up.

"Um, sorry for passing out on you." Her cheeks darkened, an embarrassing tint linger on them.

"It's ok, you needed some sleep."

"Well, thanks." We both stared at each other awkwardly, neither of us knowing what to to next.

"Do you wanna watch a movie or something?" She asked, looking away. I nodded and we both stood, walking off to enjoy our night.

[deathbyathousandspiders]

Hey so I don't usually request so sorry if this is a mess but can you do how Peter Parker would deal with you being dusted right in his arms and the aftermath of how he'd cope. (Even better if your starks daughter and they share the grief)

okay so i wrote this with you and peter getting dusted and how tony would cope, but pt. two will be how you and peter cope with tony’s death🤭🤭

i promise it’s still angsty!

WARNINGS – gory, angsty asf, rewriting the ending of infinity war so if you watched it recently it might feel repetitive, i forget if there’s swearing but here you go just in case<3

✨masterlist.✨

1.5k.

You knew it was risky to follow Tony and the wizard that morning. God, you knew it was risky. It’d been like any other morning–out for a run with your dad: talking about projects, talking about his engagement to Pepper, watching the immediate protective shift he had when a portal appeared on the shoreline path in front of you.

The grave look on his face said it all.

And you knew the risks. You’d signed up for these kinds of dangers when you were born with the Stark name. It was a target sewn to your back by DNA. The same genes gave you the stubborn spirit to sneak onto an alien spacecraft to help your dad; genes that made you look like the spitting image of him when you’d found out Peter Parker also had the same idea.

In hindsight, you were glad your boyfriend made the trip. It made you feel better protected.

Especially seeing as you lost.

If someone were to tell you on your run that morning that you’d take a punch to the gut and a dagger to the thigh by later that evening, you would stand speechless. If someone were to have told you that you’d lose this badly, and nearly lose your dad in the process, you wouldn’t believe them.

Laying on the dry–graveled surface of whatever planet this was, you pushed yourself up as high as you could. Your upper thigh screamed with blood and the burn of a fresh cut. It was the deepest one you’d ever received. A hushed whimper forced a response out of you at the feeling, making your father turn his attention towards you.

You regretted even being there the second it all happened.

With his head turned to his left, toward you, Tony lost his footing, meeting the fatal kiss of Thanos’ dagger right to the stomach. You watched the blood instantly choke out through his lips, and the way he stammered back as the purple giant shoved him harshly into a rock.

“NO!!” You shouted, as if your cry stop it. As if it would save him. You couldn’t lose your father. You couldn’t live without him. You didn’t even want to think of the possible outcome.

One of your arms gave out, shoving you face–first back into the ground beneath you. Your eyes welled with tears, and you tried to fight against your own pain to make your way over, to say goodbye. To try and fix this. You had to fix this.

“Stop!” The world stilled as Dr. Strange spoke up “Spare his life..” Dr. Strange sat up, pained. Pained and protesting, but willing. The tone of his voice gave you chills. “And I’ll give you the stone.” It wasn’t a request, nor a bargain, rather than a demand.

“No tricks?” The single drop of blood glistened off Thanos’ temple in the several setting suns of the planet, highlighting how little patience Thanos had left, too. Highlighting just how much Tony Stark bled out at his mercy beside him.

Without a word, Stephen maneuvered the air and the Time Stone appeared between his thumb and his first finger.

And thus, Thanos agreed.

In a manner of moments, you’d pressed yourself off the ground, standing. You used some tech your father lent you to spray some sort of temporary stitch–up over your wound for the time being. Looking up, you met your father’s eyes and saw the stabbed indent disappear. Dr. Strange handed the stone over with a white flag and a twinge of regret. You felt the world shift as it happened, the gravity of it growing heavy.

Everything you knew was changing.

Thanos vanished, leaving you all to sit in the feeling and process what had happened. You felt it in your gut that this loss would be horrendous, but the only thing that ran through your mind was making sure your dad was okay.

Limping, you rushed over as quickly as you could, hugging him with all the strength you had to muster. You didn’t care that you were crying. You didn’t care that your body was lined with dirt and blood and bruises. You held him tightly, and kept yourself from processing what the hell happened. Kept yourself from the distraction of Peter Quill blasting the space that Thanos just stood in.

“Did we just lose?” He asked, misery and frustration and denial clear in his voice.

But you and Tony ignored him. Your father held your face in his hands, taking you in with the fear that it might be his last time ever doing so. “Whatever happens, I love you.” He told you, and the words tattooed in your memory and stood alone among anything else he’d ever told you. You cling to them with every ounce of energy you had left.

“Whatever happens, I love you too.” You repeated back to him, ignoring the trembling in your lip.

Peter rushed over to the two of you, hugging both of you tightly. Both your dad and Peter helped you stand upright, but Tony handed you off to Peter while he confronted the wizard.

Tony looked at Strange with a look of both gratitude and confusion. “Why would you do that?”

“It was the only way.” Dr. Strange took a few shaky breaths, his expression unreadable. “We’re in the endgame now..” Was the only response he allowed, the universe allowed.

“Uhh, Mister Stark!” Peter called out, his grip morphing on you. The way he held you suddenly got tighter, more secure, more protective; as if you slipped through his fingers, or you would, or you were dying. His breath quickened, like something grave was happening. “Mister Stark!! Something’s happening!”

Tony didn’t waste a second before he walked over to the two of you, watching as Peter lowered you to the ground, cradling you in his arms. Nothing was happening, as far as you were aware, you didn’t feel anything. And Tony didn’t see anything.

But the sweat that traced Peter’s temple wasn’t something unnoticed. The way he held you, the way he looked at you, Tony knew Peter was sensing the state of their loss. “Kid?” Tony asked, sitting beside you two, grabbing one of your hands and squeezing Peter’s shoulder with the other. “Kid, what’s happening?”

Peter was between hyperventilating and being entirely speechless. His head shook rapidly, glancing from you and Tony. “I’m not–” Tears lined his eyes, quick to run down his face. “I’m not sure.. But I don’t–”

“Something’s happening.”

Each of you turned to Mantis as she spoke, soon obliterating, turning to dust on spot and dissipate into nothing. She was simply gone.

Panic. Pure panic flooded the air.

Drax’s focus went to his hand as it started in his fingers, his hand disappearing. “Quill?” His tone was nothing but concernment, uncertainty. Then he was gone, too.

“Steady, Quill.” Your dad quipped, watching the space where Peter Quill stood.

It started in his legs, traveling up his body as he turned into the same textured substance. “Oh, man..” And his face lingered, imprinting the dust before blowing off with the breeze.

“Tony..” Stephen spoke up, seeing the look in your dad’s eyes. Seeing the thoughts as they ran courses, miles, laps in Tony’s head. “It was the only way.” He repeated. His tone was apologetic as he, too, fractured into immeasurable pieces. His body turned to molecules, fading into the air.

Peter swallowed thickly, beads of sweat dripping from his hairline. His knuckles were white around your hand as you brought them to your lips and kissed it. You weakly squeezed your father’s hand, smiling up at the both of them. “I love you guys.” And as if you knew what was happening, spouting from your legs and spreading to your fingers, you turned to dust, too.

Your father tried to catch it, squeezing his fingers tightly around the space your hand had just been. He felt tears sting his eyes as you vanished in front of him. His whole world, his daughter, gone in a matter of seconds.

“Mister Stark..” Peter broke the deafening silence. “I don’t–” His eyes studied the hand that had just held yours, eyes glossy with grief and denial. “I don’t feel so good..”

His breaths were choked, ached, agonized as his legs gave way. Tony watched the way he turned to dust just as everyone else had. He kept hold of Peter’s shoulder, speechless. Tony couldn’t comprehend what was happening.

Peter looked to him, panicked. Completely and utterly panicked. “I don’t wanna go.” He repeated the phrase like it was all he knew, “I don’t wanna go. I don’t wanna go, I don’t wanna go–” And when the pain became immeasurable, undeniable; when his fate was sealed, he took a final breath, clenching his jaw to try and keep himself from breaking in his final moment. “I’m sorry..” And just like that, he was gone.

He was gone, and Tony was alone. He stared at Nebula, nervous that if he looked away, she’d disappear too. The two didn’t know each other well at all, but her company was something he grasped onto like water. He clung to anything and everything she had to offer, hoping to God they’d make it out of this.

He wasn’t sure how he was going to live without you, but knew he needed to. If there was any shot or hope or reality of getting you back, Tony needed to get to it. He had to find it, and he wouldn’t rest until he did.

[cherrycheridarling]

slip up | t.h.

tom holland x famous!reader

warnings: none just fluff

summary: tom slips up on instagram live

wc: 335

a/n: missed u guys sorry abt my absence:(<3

"That's a wrap for today! Go rest those vocal cords, Y/L/N." Toby, your producer bid you a farewell as you finished in the studio.

You nodded and hugged everyone goodbye before heading to your driver's car. It was at least midnight by the time you got back to your boyfriend's home that he shared with his best mates.

You and Tom had been dating for nearly a year and had done an impressive job of keeping your relationship away from prying eyes. With only a few suspicions here and there, the public saw you two as best friends and nothing more.

In his king sized bed, Tom was on Instagram live chatting with his fans. He needed a way to pass the time as he waited for you to come home from the studio.

"Why am I up so late? Jet lag sucks, guys." Tom lied to his fans.

He hasn't been on a plane in weeks.

"Is anyone in the house awake? Nope. They all sleep at, like, eleven or earlier. Party poopers." he frowned to the camera.

You quietly unlocked the front door, trying your best to not wake anyone in the house. Tiptoeing towards Tom's bedroom, you saw that his light was on, peeking out from under his door. With furrowed eyebrows you opened the door and saw him sitting against the headboard on his phone.

He smiled when he saw you, completely forgetting about his live, "Hi, darling. I missed you," he put his phone down and pecked your lips, "Did you get driven here?" you nodded, "You should've sent me a text," he picked up his phone and glanced at the screen, "I could've—" he froze.

You finished tying your hair up and looked at him with confusion written across your features. You opened your mouth to ask him what was wrong before he slapped a hand over your lips.

He looked at you with wide eyes, "I'm live on Instagram." he whispered.

You had to choke down a laugh because you knew the fans would recognize the sound immediately. You managed to peak at the screen without being in the cameras view and the comments had you struggling to keep your laughter down.

'HE HAS A GF???????'

'i'm gonna kms'

'WHO IS IT'

'no fucking way'

'PLS BE ZENDAYA'

'IM HYPERVENTILATING'

Tom opened and closed his mouth like a fish as he tried to come up with something, anything, to say. "Um, looks like I'll be going now. Thank you for joining and I'll see you all very soon." He had a sheepish grin as he spoke.

You smirked before speaking. "Bye guys." And pressed the button to end the live. Not waiting to see the reactions to your voice or if they would recognize it.

Tom wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you on top of him, "Cheeky one, you are." he placed a kiss on your forehead as you smiled into his chest.

[underoospeterparker]

can’t remember if I already sent this in but tasm Peter Parker x reader who has sensory issues and gets overstimulated easily. n him just calming her down, giving her something to fidget with or chew on cause he knows that calms her, getting her into comfy clothes that aren’t scratchy or tight and just taking care of her. asking her loads of questions and giving her options to choose from so she feels more in control of the situation <3 ugh i love him

thank you for requesting!!

tasm!peter x reader / mcu!peter x reader, 0.8k words

tw: overstimulation

You're resting your head in Peter's lap while he tangles his fingers in your hair, scratching gently at your scalp. Peter's friends are sitting on the seats opposite to you, and the two of them are laughing about something rather loudly. Peter glances at you every so often, leans down to press a soft kiss to your temple. Every time he does that, you let out a quiet hum of contentment, press your head further into his lap.

You're exhausted from a long day of school and came home to Peter's friends. You'd given them both a hug when you arrived, but Peter already noticed you were out of it: Your eyes were unfocused, you had this dazed look about you, and you kept fidgeting with your hands, wringing them out.

Peter had given you a concerned look, clearly worried, as if asking 'Do you want them here?' You'd given him a gentle, reassuring smile, mouthed to him that it was fine. You were currently rethinking your decision as their voices grew louder. You began to hear the screeching of the kettle, the scratches your cat was making on the wooden table, the spin of the fan. You could feel your tight knit sweater sticking to your body, and you could hardly breathe.

You forced yourself to take deeper, longer breaths as you curled up in Peter's lap. His hand paused on your head but then resumed its ministrations, as he looked up in shock at something his friend had said. It all sounded like a blabber of words to you: You felt confused; disoriented. The air conditioner was on, but you felt hot. Boiling hot. You tried to pull at your sweater, wanting it off.

You resisted the urge to scream, and to calm yourself down you tried to focus on the ground, on the carpet, but you couldn't: Everything else was far too loud.

"(Y/N)?" Peter's voice cut through the noise. You press your hands to your ears, trying to block out the noise, to soften his words. You turn around to face Peter's stomach, try to hide in his hold. "Sweetheart, are you okay?" His hands reached for yours, helped cover your ears. You looked up through blurry vision, meeting his loving and concerned gaze. Peter tilted his head slightly, searched your eyes for a response to his question. You shook your head slowly in reply, let out a quiet whine as you burrowed yourself closer to him.

Something in his eyes clicks in realisation. He held out a hand to his friends to get them to stop talking; helping you stand up with a hand on your wrist, gently moving you to a quieter room. Peter shut the door behind the two of you, sat you down on the soft comforter. You mumbled something incoherent, struggled to get your sweater off, the tightness suffocating you, making it hard to breathe.

Peter's eyes soften as he reaches for the hem of your sweater, helping you pull it off your head. He squeezes your hand before moving towards the closet, grabbing your comfiest pyjamas as helping you slip in to them with two hands on your shoulders. He doesn't speak until then, knowing you needed to feel comfortable and snug before you would be able to fully converse.

He settled you on the bed, covers not on because he knew you were feeling hot. "Can I get you anything? Your fidget toy? Or your stuffed animal?"

His voice was soft, only a murmur, and you nodded gratefully. "Both, please?" You asked quietly.

Peter presses a lingering kiss to your forehead and untangles himself from you, nodding quickly. "Of course, bug." He returns in under a minute, giving you the two items and watching as you settle down with them. "Do you want me here, or should I go?" He touches your leg soothingly, rubbing a hand up and down.

"Here," I mumble, "please?" Peter melts a little, feels his heart squeeze. He climbs onto the bed behind you, careful not to touch or jostle you too much. When he remains quiet, you add, "Can I have a hug?"

He softens. "Absolutely, honey." Peter doesn't wait another second before wrapping you up in his arms, bringing you closer to his chest. He thumbs at your neck affectionately as you curl up in his hold, wanting to be as close to him as possible. "My poor, sweet girl," he murmurs softly. "You're doing so good. Are you feeling a bit better?"

"Mhm, yes," I say quietly, "thank you." You give him your best, most grateful smile. "Y' the best, baby."

Peter rolls his eyes affectionately against the crown of your head. "Says you, lovely girl."

[talaok]

Hiii! Can I request sub!peter waking u up in the middle of the night very needy? Tnks :)))

Pairing: Sub! Peter Parker x f!reader

warnings: sub! peter, unprotected p in v sex, lots of pet names for spidey, premature ejaculation (kinda), creampie, talk about oral sex (m receiving)

a/n: aaaaa i love sub peter soo much thank you love

At first, you thought it was morning already, you thought the needy kisses on your bare back and his hips grinding onto your ass were nothing more than what it was more mornings than not: the usual way Peter woke you up.

But once you opened up your eyes, once the darkness got the better of your sight, once you watched as no sun shined through the windows, then you realized your mistake

"Baby" you croaked, taking your time turning your head back to him, sleep still fighting to keep you close

"I'm sorry" he mumbled, his lips still busy with your shoulders "I know it's late- I just-I"

His hazel eyes were on you, lust and need fogging them deeply, and his hips hadn't yet stilled, he was grinding his hard cock against your ass like you hadn't just taken care of him a few hours earlier, like a man starved.

"I think I know what the problem is" a soft smirk played on your lips as you finally turned to him

Sleep could wait a few more minutes, you decided, you were never able to resist him when he looked so damn desperate.

"I can feel it" you murmured sultry, his eyes stapled to yours while his hands followed each movement you made, not wanting to lose contact with your skin even for a second.

"what do you need baby?" you spoke once you were before him 

"I-I just- I need-"

But your hand had found the bulge in his boxers, and words stopped existing altoughether in Peter's brain

"You need me to take care of you?" you teased, your fingers seeping underneath the waistband.

You swore he was holding his breath.

"'s that it baby?" you murmured, now ghosting his lips "need me to help you out a little, mh?"

The sound- oh the sound he made when your hands found his manhood, when you conceded him just the tinies stroke... oh you could have lived on that sound alone.

"yes" he gulped "p-please I need- I-"

Peter had never been good with words around you so you took his cock out, feeling him twitch in your hand

"I-inside" was all he could whimper "p-please"

You chuckled softly, but still, you did as he wished, draping your leg over him and sliding your panties to the side

"what's got you so worked up honey?" you asked, purring gently against his mouth

"I- I had a dream"

You smiled knowingly as you guided him to your entrance.

"dirty boy" you smirked as he slowly entered you, whimpering and moaning as he shut his eyes

"s-shit- y/n-" he cried, once he was filling you all up "g-god"

"I know" you cooed, stroking the back of his head as he started thrusting sloppily in and out of you "I know baby"

His left hand was pulling down your tank top to get to your boobs, and he let out a desperate moan once he was finally able to have one of your tits in his palm.

"so what was the dream about?" you murmured, fighting your own moans.

His cheeks changed colors, red now adorning them.

"I-"

"no need to be shy now baby" you smiled, feeling his cock hit that spot deep inside you once again

"It was about- y-you"

You grinned widely at that

"'s that so?"

"mh-mh" he nodded, eager to please you

“What about me?” You asked, your fingers playing with his hair just how he liked it 

You saw his Adam's apple bob up and down as he swallowed thickly,

"y-you were" he sighed, burying his cock inside up to the hilt "You were g-going down on me" he stuttered, the pleasure he was already lost in only heightening as images from his dream crossed his mind

He whimpered as you clenched around him

"I was sucking your cock?" you taunted, making a soft fuck flee his mouth 

"y-yes"

"mh" you smirked, biting your lip "I do really like that" you murmured, mouth to his ear now "I love sucking your cock so much baby" 

A choked sound escaped him, and you could only chuckle as you kissed him right below his ear

"gonna remember that when I'm gonna wake you up this morning" you hummed

"y-y/n- f-fuck" he groaned, his thrusts even sloppier now, barely anything more than frantic desperate movements "p-please" he begged "I-I'm not gonna last if y-you"

But you didn't care, you never cared when it was like this, when it was only about him.

"don't wait for me"  

"b-but"

"don't worry about me" you whispered, leaving a soft peck on his lips "just be a good boy and cum inside me baby" 

Another moan mixed with a whimper and a twitch of his cock was his response

"can you do that for me honey?" you murmured, "can you come deep inside me?"

He was so close it was a miracle he still hadn't come.

His moans were breathless, all resembling your name or various curses, but still, he managed to say

"yes- yes, I ca-"

before he was painting your insides with his seed a moment later.

Your moans mixed with his at the feeling, and his head fell between your shoulder and neck as he cried out your name, his hips working hard to make sure every drop of him was inside you.

You continued drawing gentle patterns in his hair as he regained consciousness and caught his breath.

"thank you" was all he said once he finally raised his head to look at you

You smiled softly

"you don't need to thank me baby" you gave him a quick kiss, his hand going to your waist.

"I- I need to clean you up" he remembered, but you shook your head

"we'll think about that tomorrow, let's go back to sleep now, mh?" you suggested, and by the look of it, he was more than eager to agree.

"mh-mh" he nodded, as he scooted closer to you, his hands around you and your legs around him.

"g'night baby" you siad

"night" he mumbled, already half asleep

But as you both closed your eyes, and you started to get back into sleep's sweet embrace, you couldn't help but chuckle, as, a few moments later, you felt Peter's face nestle right between your breasts, which had apparently been chosen as his pillow for the night

"I love you" was all he was able to mumble, not even giving you time to respond before he was already dead asleep.

"I love you too honey" you said nonetheless, Peter's long breaths filling the darkness as you joined him in his sleep.

[thollandsgirl2013]

𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐆𝐨𝐭 𝐂𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭*

Parings → Peter Parker x Stark! Reader

Warnings → Slight smut! 18+ , masturbation

Summary → Peter gets caught by his girlfriend while masturbating.

(gif not mine)

You had just come back from a long day with MJ and Betty, feeling refreshed and ready to see Peter. After all, he had been texting you non-stop, asking when you’d be back, telling you how much he missed you. You smiled to yourself as you walked down the hallway toward his bedroom in the Avengers compound, thinking about how cute he was when he got clingy.

But as you reached his door, you decided to let yourself in without knocking, excited to surprise him. You twisted the knob and stepped inside, but what you saw made your breath catch in your throat.

Peter was on his bed, his back slightly arched, one hand gripping the sheets and the other firmly between his legs, pumping himself slowly. His eyes were squeezed shut, his lips parted, soft moans escaping from his mouth. And then, you heard it — your name.

“Y/n… fuck, baby…” he groaned, his voice breathy and desperate.

The sight was enough to freeze you in place. Despite the fact that you and Peter had sex before, you had never seen him like this—so vulnerable, so completely lost in his own world. Before you could stop yourself, a startled gasp escaped your lips.

Both of you screamed at the same time.

“OH MY GOD!” Peter’s eyes flew open, and he bolted upright, trying to cover himself with the nearest thing—his pillow. “Y/n! What are you doing here?!”

You slapped a hand over your mouth, wide-eyed. “What am I doing here?! What are you doing?!” You stammered, trying to process the situation.

Peter looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. “I—I didn’t think you’d be back so soon! I—this isn’t what it looks like—okay, maybe it is—but—”

You were already laughing, shaking your head as you closed the door behind you. “Peter, you’re literally sitting there with your dick in your hand, and you’re trying to say ‘this isn’t what it looks like’? Seriously?”

He groaned, flopping back on the bed with his face buried in his hands. “This is so embarrassing. Please, can we just pretend this never happened?”

You grinned, walking over to the edge of the bed. “No way, Parker. You’re never living this down.” You sat down next to him, poking his arm. “We’ve had sex before, but seeing you like this? That’s new.”

Peter peeked through his fingers, his face bright red. “I—uh—well, I missed you…”

You bit your lip to stop from laughing again. “Yeah, I could tell. You were moaning my name, Pete. My name while jerking off.”

He groaned louder, rolling over to hide his face in the pillow. “Please stop talking…”

“Nope,” you said, pulling the pillow away from his face. “You missed me that much? You couldn’t wait for me to get back? You had to… take matters into your own hands?”

Peter let out a soft whine, rubbing his face in frustration. “I didn’t think you’d walk in on me! I thought I had more time before you got back. I just… I couldn’t stop thinking about you. All day. And I… I needed to—well, you know.”

“Clearly,” you teased, your smile widening. “You could’ve just waited. I would’ve been happy to help.”

Peter shot up, looking at you in disbelief. “Wait, really?”

You raised an eyebrow, trying to keep a straight face. “I mean, if you were that desperate, you could’ve waited until I got back home, and I could’ve taken care of it for you.”

Peter blinked, clearly flustered. “Y-you would’ve done that?”

“Uh, duh? I'm your girlfriend,” you said, leaning in a little closer, letting your voice drop teasingly. “But now you’ll never know, because you were too impatient.”

Peter’s mouth fell open, completely mortified. “You’re—oh my God, you’re evil.”

“And you love me for it,” you shot back, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to his lips, only to have him grab your wrist before you could pull away.

“Wait,” he said, his voice low, suddenly much more serious. “You mean it? You… you’re not weirded out by this?”

Your expression softened at his question, realizing that under all the embarrassment, Peter was genuinely concerned about what you thought. “Peter, no. It’s not weird. I mean, yeah, it was a little shocking walking in on you like that, but… it’s kind of flattering, you know? Knowing you were thinking about me like that.” You gave him a reassuring smile. “You’re allowed to have needs. Everyone masturbates. I just wish you’d let me help you next time.”

His eyes softened, and his grip on your wrist tightened just a bit as he pulled you toward him. “I promise I’ll wait next time,” he whispered, his voice full of affection. “I just… I missed you so much. You don’t even know.”

You cupped his cheek, your thumb brushing gently across his skin. “I missed you too. Maybe I shouldn’t have stayed out so long…”

Peter’s eyes flicked to your lips, his voice hushed. “You could make it up to me now…”

You couldn’t help but smile as you leaned in, your lips brushing against his. “Maybe I could.”

Peter’s hands found your waist, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss, his embarrassment melting away with every passing second. You could feel the tension in his body, the need he had been bottling up all day, and you couldn’t help but be a little smug knowing that he had been thinking of you the whole time.

When you finally pulled back for air, Peter’s forehead rested against yours, his breathing heavy. “You’re never going to let me forget this, are you?” He asked, his voice breathless.

“Not a chance,” you replied, grinning against his lips. “But don’t worry, I’ll make sure you don’t have to resort to handling it yourself next time.”

Peter laughed, the last bit of tension fading from his body as he hugged you close. “You’re the best, you know that?”

You pressed another kiss to his lips. “I know.”

‎∗ ࣪ ˖༺ 𓆩☆𓆪 ༻˖ ࣪ ‎∗

[pearlfeline]

homesick

peter parker x fem!reader

word count: 2k

tw: none

a/n: i used to write for hp and i tried to start anew with this blog but it failed lol. (might still write for hp if i feel like it) but i luv peter and wanted to write for him so bad. i kinda didn't know how to end this but i thought it was fun to write anyway. thanks for reading.

"What can I getcha?" You attempted a decent smile, though Peter could tell you were tired. He knew tired. He IS tired.

Peter, blinking that thought away, snaps back into reality. He is in a small diner, and he took too long deciding outside the door if he wanted to go inside, so to avoid looking stupid he shuffled inside and sat down.

"Banana wheat cake... Is it any good?" He lets out a dry chuckle.

You press your lips into a thin line. "I know I work here but..." You bit your bottom lip, tucking your pen behind your ear. You drew closer to Peter so he could hear you. "It sucks. Get the breakfast combo." You winked, tracing a circle around the menu item. Peter unintentionally takes in a whiff of your perfume, giving him a hard time remembering what you just recommended.

"It comes with a free coffee." You flip open your notepad again, and as you grab the pen from behind your ear, a piece of hair falls to your face.

"I-I'll get that then." Peter closes the menu handing it back to you.

"Great. Bacon or sausage?"

Peter catches a lump in his throat. Almost as if words were filling to the brim and he couldn't say a word.

"Bacon." He smiles but keeps his gaze on his hands. They were almost uncontrollably fiddling with each other.

"Got it. I'll be right back with that."

Peter watches as you quickly let go of your charm to catch up with refills of coffee. You worked hard every day just to make rent but you never complained. Peter was never a customer until today, yet he could tell so much about you. His eyes couldn't help but follow you wherever you went.

His eyes followed you around the counter, grabbing a tray and putting his food on it. You were trying to keep him from waiting any longer and picked up the pace approaching his booth.

“Oh!” You slip, losing grip of the tray holding Peter’s breakfast.

Before you could react to the impact of the floor, you were pulled up. You opened your eyes and find Peter’s arm over your waist, successfully maneuvering the tray to grab everything that flew.

“Great reflexes.” You looked up at him with bewilderment.

“Thanks.” He shyly loosened his grip on your waist. You pull down and flatten your apron. “Whew. That was incredibly lame of me but surprisingly cool for you.” You let out a chuckle, making sure nothing was ruined on his plate.

“Why surprising?” He replied. “Do I look like a loser?” He suppressed a small smile.

“No you just look more… smart cool and maybe a possible ninja? I don’t know what else to call what you just did.”

Peter lets his smile crack a little, taking a sip of his previously airborne coffee.

“Don’t get me wrong, you’re not lacking physically because you’re a book smart type of guy.” You give him a quick once over cheekily.

Before Peter can panic and come up with a mess of a response, a disgruntled old man cuts the moment short. “Coffee! Hello?” He slams his mug on the table.

“Duty calls.” You gave him a small wave, quickly making your way to the opposite side of the diner.

Peter spent the remainder of his time quietly finishing his breakfast, stealing quick glances at you.

Watching you smile even though you’re probably overwhelmed and exhausted. The hardest part was deciding when to leave. He had to go eventually to avoid being a creep. He had finished his food ten minutes ago. Before he leaves, he folds a $20 dollar bill into an origami heart, leaving it on the table.

The next morning, Peter walked a little faster, posture a little straighter, and smiled a little more.

Peter wanted to see you again. He knew not to tell you about the past, but what would be so wrong just talking to you? He attempts a nonchalant glance through the windows, making sure you were inside before walking in himself.

Peter gives you a shy head nod, making his way to sit at the counter instead of a booth.

"There's the generous tipper from yesterday. Hi, I'll be right with you." You got up from speaking to your coworker and greeted Peter.

"Was my service that good?" You flip open your notepad.

"The best." Peter pretends to study your name tag. "...Y/N."

"Well, thanks..?" You tilted your head slightly.

"Peter."

"Ah, Thank you, Peter."

"I won't be her for long, I just wanted a coffee."

"And you came here?" You snickered. You only half meant that statement. You didn't know why, but seeing him a second time was making your dreary work day go by easier.

"Yeah, in case you decided to fall again today."

You gasp, being dramatically 'offended'. "I'll let that comment slide... Since you gave me that nice tip. Even though I was struggling to unravel it for a while in my car." You grab a pot of coffee, pouring it into a cup that says 'print design here'.

"Thanks." Peter chuckles.

"No sugar?" You asked.

Peter's gaze slowly reached yours. "How did you know?"

"Know what?" You raise an eyebrow innocently. "Nobody here drinks black coffee unless they're over fifty or a pretentious student. Oh, were you afraid to ask this whole time? Hold on." You reach and dig into the pocket of your apron.

"N-no, it's fine. I don't really drink sweet coffee anymore." Peter's face falls in defeat. Of course, you wouldn't remember his order. Peter had to remind himself that he was a customer and a customer only to you.

"So, you're a pretentious student huh? No wonder I got a big tip. Let me guess you're studying tech?"

Peter shakes his head. "Biochemistry. Though, I do have somewhat of a tech background. I-" Peter almost rambles on but catches himself. "I'm poor. Not really enough money to be pretentious." He sinks into his seat, taking a sip to cover his face.

"Dude, do you know how tipping works? You can't be poor and tip me $20 after a breakfast combo from a dingy part of the city."

"You work hard." Peter scratches his neck. "...At least from what I've seen." He sighs.

"Are you actually poor?" You start wiping down the counter to keep your boss off your back for being unproductive.

Peter sheepishly avoids your eyes.

"...I'm poor too." You smiled. "If that wasn't painfully obvious by how I look."

"No. Not at all." Peter took this opportunity to take in your appearance. You looked exactly the same. Even though it had taken months for him to face you again. It's like your eyes were waiting right where he saw them last, inviting you in.

Unknowingly, you take his one-sided reunion with you as innocent flirting.

"I get off at 5." You blurted out. Why were you so inherently flirty all of a sudden?

Peter straightens his posture as if that would help him hear you properly. He blankly stares at you as you do the same for a response.

“…Are you free..? Or interested?” You throw the towel over your shoulder.

“YE-yes. Yeah. I have no classes today I can come get you of course but I don’t have a car I just walked here but not from far.” He rambles.

You visibly relax your composure as that alone was enough evidence that Peter was just a nerd without the rich snob part. Though he kept the physique of someone who would visit his rich dad’s personal gym.

“Here's my number. I’ll get you an actual good meal.” You shyly look down at your feet, ignoring your ugly, work-approved kitchen shoes.

“Deal.” He pays for his burnt diner coffee, and leaves an appropriate tip this time.

You sneak in one last wave before he disappears around the street corner.

This shift couldn’t have gone any slower for you. The wait from 4:00 to 5:00 was the most excruciating pain of consecutive boringness.

When it was time to clock out, you rushed out the back, shoving your work shoes into your book bag and trying to fix your disheveled hair that had been put up by a pencil this entire time.

You rushed to the front of the diner while putting on your wrinkled sweater to mask the smell of butter off you at least a little.

You waited. And waited. And waited some more. 5:15. Why was he late? Did you scare him off? Is he never coming back to the diner? Was that big tip an accident? Maybe he took out the wrong bill and played along today just to avoid being awkward.

“Shiiit.” You groaned. You looked around the intersection. “Maybe he’s rushing towards me?” You thought. “He’s gonna come around any second and say sorry frantically like the nerd he is.”

He didn’t. He never showed. You waited for an hour more and just decided to walk home.

As you were walking along the dark and wet sidewalk, you were internally thanking yourself for bringing that sweater, but cursing because you wanted to take the scenic route and walk to work today.

“Hi miss.” A voice called from behind you.

You turned around to see Spider-man.

“Oh wow, hi?” You’ve never seen him this close before. The rainy afternoon gave his suit an exaggerated glimmer and despite his bug eyes, he didn't seem scary while approaching you.

“Why would a pretty lady like yourself be walking alone?” He starts walking beside you holding out an arm for you.

“Well, I was supposed to leave work an hour ago.. Something came up.” You take his arm cautiously. “I usually walk home anyway, nothing different today.”

Peter feels a lump growing in his throat. Even when he ditched you, you don’t insult him.

“Except… it’s an hour later. That means it’s an hour’s more worth of danger out here.” He jokes.

You nod, not really the response he was expecting. Spider-man was not getting the same treatment as Peter.

“Something wrong?” He felt wrong asking immediately. Yes something’s wrong. He was wrong.

“I just.. I’ve been feeling empty almost. Recently it’s like… It’s like I’m missing something. Not completely empty, but enough absence to feel hopeless. I had a date today and he didn’t show.” You almost continue until you looked up to realize you were talking to a bug man.

“Sorry. It’s dumb. I don’t expect you to understand or help.” You chuckled dryly.

Peter wanted to tell you everything so badly. He was already pushing it by seeing you again. Giving you a second taste of danger. But he burned for you. Maybe the first time was a sign. This was a new opportunity to keep you safe and he blew it. He crawled back to you desperately just for a glimpse of you. To see that you were okay. Now he’s knees deep in a new relationship with you and you didn’t even know.

“It’s not dumb.” He quietly answered. Peter on his way to get you, was leaving his apartment when he saw someone being robbed. “Maybe he ran late?”

You scoffed. “For an hour? More like he forgot.”

Peter knew convincing you to forgive him was bad. He knew doing the opposite was for the best. To tell you to forget Peter. But he couldn’t. He had you right here. Like he used to.

“Things happen.” He shrugged. “What if he got robbed?”

“Wouldn’t you have helped him?” You replied, unimpressed.

“Oh. Well I did help a really handsome dude and he got robbed. Was he like an attractive guy or..?”

“He’s cute." You admitted.

Peter blushes under his mask. Though you had said more affectionate things to him before, apparently he still gets giddy.

"Well, I'm sure he didn't forget someone as pretty as you."

You let out a scoff. "Did you drop down next to me to take me home safely or be stupid?"

Under the mask, Peter had a huge grin. He was proud of you. Still the same in how you always know how to avoid trouble. He rarely ever had to save you. You were too smart. No stranger was safe from you, not even Spider-man.

"Sorry." He says cheekily.

You both eventually reach your apartment though Peter had to act oblivious that this was your home.

"This is me. Thanks Spider-man." You tug on a zipper from your bag, reaching for something in the bottom. Gummy worms

"I don't know if you take payments but uh, I was going to share these with my date. It's my lunch I forgot about. Don't judge."

Peter feels a pang of guilt hit his chest. "Th-thanks... you really don't have to." He slowly takes the bag.

"It's okay really."

Peter sighed. "Look, if that guy is actually stupid enough to ghost you, just call me."

"How do I call you?"

"Like this; SPIDER-MAN SPIDER-MAN AGHHH THAT IDIOT NEVER CALLED ME BACK!" Peter ran around in a circle mocking a girl's voice.

"And you'd help me from wherever you are?" You raised an eyebrow.

"I have pretty good hearing." Peter comically dusts off his shoulder.

"Alright man, no excuses. Even if you're fighting off a giant monster or something you have to help me."

"Something tells me I won't need to. Y'know? One of my powers is basically a gut feeling that's always right." Peter puffs up his chest proudly.

You let out an amused exhale. "You're a nerd. See ya." You went inside, waving without looking behind you.

"See ya." Peter says quietly. As soon as he saw you disappear around the corner, he zipped to the top of a random building.

"hey y/n, so so so so so so sodsdo sorry for ditching you. PLS FORGIVW ME!!! had family emergency. wanna meet tmrw???" Peter mumbled along as he typed, two gummy worms stored in the side of his cheek.

"I sound so lameee haha." Peter thought. He goes to delete but presses send.

"Man."

[cillianmesoftlyyy]

Wary Sailor Pt. 2 | Matthew Joy x fem!reader

summary: Second Mate Matthew Joy goes out on a whale hunt and even after a successful chase, he can't seem to feel satisfied. Something's weighing heavily on his mind. While alone in the harpoon boat, trouble comes to call.

warnings: Aiming a gun at someone, talk of violence, smut, oral (F receiving), penetration, dubious consent (weird circumstances), unprotected sex, Matthew's abandonment issues lol.

word count: 2763k+

Tucumcari- Goodnight, Texas 🎶

Lady May- Tyler Childers 🎵

Note: The lyrics that I included are from the old whaling song Maid of Amsterdam.

*Pt. 3 (and maybe 4???) coming soon!

The men were deployed into the smaller whaling boats, each boat armed with a harpoon and dense cord. Matthew stood at the back of his boat to steer it away from the ship, navigating the aggravated water. He forced himself to think about the whales, keeping his mind inside the boat… but the girl’s eyes appeared like stars in the corner of his vision at all times. 

“Joy!” One of the rowers was yelling at him, snapping him out of his trance. “Joy, focus! Don’t go soft on us all of a sudden, eh?” 

Matthew grimaced as the grisly sailor chuckled. He steered them out to open water, following the Captain's boat as per his orders. While he couldn’t see their bodies in the water, Matthew could hear the loud vibrations of sound the Sperm whales made as they spoke to one another. He could also hear Owen yelling out commands to his men. The harpoonist prepared his weapon. Matthew directed his man to do the same. 

“Steady now!” He advised his men as they waited for movement below the surface. Striking the whale was simple compared to the rest of the exhausting process. Matthew just planned on keeping his men alive but whale oil was also a necessity that he was willing to sacrifice for. He wasn’t a greedy man by any means, he’d lived in poverty all his life. His life was whaling and he didn’t spend much time off the ocean, the stillness made him restless. 

“There she blows!” A man yelled and Matthew peered over the edge as the side of his boat rose out of the water, stuck on the back of an adolescent whale. As he looked over, the distinct silhouette of a woman wavered beneath the surface. Choosing to ignore it, Matthew swung the boat over to allow the harpooner to cast his weapon. 

“Go, go, go!” He barked, spit flying from his mouth as he waved the man on. The harpoon sailed through the sky, landed in the water like a seabird, and missed. The whale diverted away from Matthew’s boat and found itself trapped beside Owen’s. The mother whale broke the surface nearby, distracting the men to the real prize. Matthew steered his boat away as the other men helped reel in the harpoon’s cord. The harpooner aimed and threw. 

…

It was evening when the whale was secured by chains to the deck of the ship. The whale was so large she had to rest in two different places, one on the ship’s deck and the other in Matthew’s boat. The men aboard wrapped rags around their noses to cover the smell. Matthew just grimaced and rubbed the sockets of his eyes. The darkening landscape helped relieve some of his headache. The other men were already aboard the Essex, only he was left to watch over the end of the whale, saving it from sharks and other predators. He could hear the men singing as they did their work, scraping the fat from the inside of a giant. He hummed along to the song they were singing together.

A roving, a roving

Since roving's been my ru-i-in

I'll go no more a roving

With you fair maid! 

Movement in the water drew his mind away from the song. Ripples expanded across the surface where something had just been. Matthew drew his rifle from the floorboards and checked the chamber for bullets. He watched the surface carefully for the distinct fins of sharks. 

I put my hand upon her thigh

Mark well what I do say!

I put my hand upon her thigh

She said young man ‘That’s rather high’

I'll go no more a roving with you fair maid!

Matthew cocked the gun and aimed it at the dark water around his boat. The men’s singing seemed to dissipate with the seriousness of his situation. Sharks could be both dangerous and damaging. The scent of whale blood always drew them in, sending them into a frenzy where they could throw themselves against the side of the boat, risking damage. They were a nuisance to Matthew and he didn’t mind shooting them when necessary. The boat rocked in the waves and he steadied himself. 

“Are you going to use that on me, Matthew Joy?” The voice behind him startled a gasp from his lips. He swung the rifle around, aiming it at the same face he’d seen hours before. 

“You…” he whispered, keeping his rifle trained on her throat. Her eyes were the same green as before, only this time he could see them more clearly. The sun had fully set but colors remained in the sky above her head, bloody purples and such. He couldn’t see her body below the water but he saw that her shoulders were bare save the scattered pearls stuck to her skin like freckles. 

“Are you going to shoot me?” She whispered back, her face inches from the barrel of the rifle. He licked his lips before speaking.

“Where… where did you go? You disappeared…” he muttered darkly, flicking his eyes up to the deck where his crewmates continued to work. He was alone with the girl. 

“I had to see what you were like,” she offered a small smile. Matthew adjusted the way he held the gun, still aimed at her. 

“You asked me if I believed in Sirens…” Matthew remembered warily, his eyes trailing over the pearls across her chest. Her dark hair rested behind her shoulders, down her back. 

“Do you?” She asked and reached up her hands slowly, holding the edge of the small boat. He stared at her, his breath clouding the metal scope on his gun. 

“Is that what you are?” He asked finally and the girl smiled once again. 

“Is it quite shocking?” She teased and bit her lip timidly. 

“Well… yes,” Matthew exhaled and raised his eyebrow, “I thought they were only in stories. They weren’t real… Why didn’t you sing?”

The girl cocked her head to the side. The air felt heavy between them as he waited for her response. His body was confused and frightened, something he’d rarely felt before. His instinct and desire clashed, strengthening the opposing forces within him.  

“I don’t want to kill you,” she answered honestly, “we sing to kill.” 

Matthew lowered his gun and nodded, breathless. 

“You had legs. You didn’t look… ” He ran a shaky hand through his hair and ran his hand over his mouth. He could see the top of her fin break through the water. It was a beautiful silver color and her scales were shiny and iridescent. 

“I wanted to see how you would treat me. I disguised myself as a human girl and you treated me gently.”

“What do you want from me? You had to keep me alive for some reason,” Matthew sat down on a plank of seating and rubbed the waterducts of his eyes. 

“Nothing more than just to know you. I’ve watched your crew from the sea for weeks. You are a good, kind man.” 

Matthew looked up from between his fingers and exhaled slowly, lowering his guard only slightly. 

“Then what does this mean? How do you want to… know me?” He furrowed his brow and sat back once again on the plank of wood. Her hands tipped the boat slightly so that she could come a little closer to the sailor. 

“Come closer, please…” she whispered and rose onto her elbows, her face a few inches from Matthew’s. Matthew stared at her lips, rosey pink and plump. She smelled like sea salt and clean things. Ever so slowly, Matthew closed the distance between them, his eyes staying on her lips. 

“Y/N…” He tried to restrain himself as he whispered but eventually, as she stared up at him with her beautiful curtained eyes, he kissed her. It had been years since he’d actually kissed a woman. Kissing was so different than fucking. He’d forgotten how much he enjoyed it, the softness of it. Her hands inched up his blouse, beneath his overcoat, grabbing at his lapels. His hands found the sharp edges of her jaw, meeting her mouth with a more fervent kiss. She tasted lightly of salt, like seaspray against rocks. He devoured her flavor as though it were precious, forbidden. He twisted his fingers into her hair that felt dry despite being in the water, moaning against her lips. 

“In what other ways do you want to know me?” He muttered against her lips, his eyes closed. Her fingers ran over his neck, down to the dip between his collarbones. 

“I want to know every part of you,” she smiled and moved away, allowing the light from the deck to illuminate her figure below him in the water. Matthew hid a choked sigh as his eyes trailed over her body below the waves. Her body was decorated with pearls and scraps of white cloth. Instead of a tail, she now had two legs that beat the water to keep her afloat. 

“Will you take me into your boat?” She asked softly and Matthew nearly forgot to respond, caught in a state of disbelief. He cleared his throat and scooped his hands beneath her arms, pulling her into the boat in one movement. Standing above him on two legs, she looked even more beautiful than she had hours earlier. He could see the buds of her nipples through the white fabric, surrounded by pearls and strands of seaweed. Her cunt was hidden behind a swath of wet fabric but he could still see the dark shape of pubic hair. He looked back up at her face, his lips having fallen apart in amazement. The Siren laughed softly and carded her fingers through his hair, pulling his head back slightly as she did. 

“Lay me down,” she requested and smiled when he immediately wrapped his hands around her waist and flipped her over where she could lie flat on the bottom of the harpoon boat. The planks were far enough away to give him space to kneel above her. He supported himself above her, studying the contours of her body, plump and full. She twisted her fingers through his hair again and pulled him close so she could whisper in his ear. 

“Now make love to me, Matthew Joy.” 

…

He was already hard when she cupped her hand against his pants. It had been a while since he’d slept with a woman after months at sea. His body ached as badly as if he were a teenage boy again, not an aging man. He was throbbing as he moved the fabric on her cunt aside and lowered his head between her thighs. Looking up at her, he ran his tongue against her, tasting her. She hummed and shook with nerves. 

A roving, a roving

Since roving's been my ru-i-in

I'll go no more a roving

With you fair maid!

Feeling emboldened by her reaction, Matthew licked her again and rubbed his nose against her clit. She was wet against his tongue and he licked his lips greedily. His cock started to throb as she whimpered and moaned beneath his mouth. Her hand pulled tightly at his hair but he loved the pain and worked his mouth harder into her cunt. 

“Now, please now!” She begged him as she started to shake with pleasure. Taking the hint, Matthew undid his trousers and pushed them down to his knees. His face was still wet with her precum as he pulled out his cock and inserted himself quickly. She spasmed around him, her hands moving to grip the sides of the boat for leverage. His thighs clenched as he thrusted into her, his eyes almost rolling to the back of his head. He leaned closer to her chest and rocked into her neck as he fucked her. 

“Oh you don’t know how long it’s been, love,” he sighed against her neck. “Is it ok?”

She nodded emphatically and pulled him closer by the back of his jacket, moving him deeper inside her. They both gasped out. He pulled his face away to watch her, still fucking her. 

“Beautiful. Pretty pretty creature you are,” he praised her as he trailed a finger down her cheek. Her thighs bounced against his as he pulled her legs around his waist. The boat shook around them. He slipped his tongue around the mound of her breast beneath the cloth, making more moans escape the girl’s mouth. He slipped the fabric aside with one finger and looking up to watch her face, he pressed his mouth around a nipple and sucked. Immediately, her body pulled into his, her back arching off the curved bottom. 

I'll go no more a roving

With you fair maid!

“Matthew…” she gasped as her muscles tightened and her bare feet flexed. He rolled his tongue around her nipple while his hand moved to hold her neck lightly, supporting her head. She cried out silently, her eyes screwed shut as if she were in pain. He dragged his tongue along her sternum to her neck and sucked at the flesh there. Her breathing evened out and she pulled his face to hers once again. 

“Do what you want with me. Get what you need from me,” the seriousness of her command sent a spasm of pleasure into his cock, still inside her. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes. I want you to use me,” she whispered and spread her legs farther. Matthew looked at her for a second before smiling. 

“Fuck, love. I think I’ll fall in love with you,” he chuckled softly and brushed his hand across her cheek. 

“And so what if you do, sailor? Hasn’t everyone else done the same at some point?” 

Matthew raised an eyebrow and kissed her, dragging her hands out above her head. Pressing her hands down into the boat, he began to thrust slowly into her, his hips still rebounding off of her pelvis. 

“You’re going to stay right here, Y/N. I don’t want to lose you again.” 

The girl smiled and broke into a moan as he shortened his thrusts, keeping himself as far inside her as he could. He went slowly so he could feel the orgasm clearly as it came over him, making his cock feel swollen with seed. Her hips shook wildly as she began to lose control over her orgasms. He watched her orgasm and released a wave of contractions around him. Smiling, he finally began to speed up as she whimpered beneath him.

“Fuck, yes… fuck… yes!” He muttered breathlessly as he felt his cock start to twitch before his orgasm. She tightened around him, pulling him deeper and drawing a guttural groan from his throat. His shoulders shook with effort as he allowed his orgasm to explode, cumming inside the girl and sending waves of relief through his system. He pulled out slowly and kissed down her stomach, savoring the heat of her skin against his lips. She caught her breath as he lapped at her swollen cunt. She was still shaking from her orgasms and whined when his tongue overstimulated her. He cleaned her out and nibbled at the skin on the inside of her thighs. 

“It’s time for me to go.” 

Matthew looked up at her and furrowed his brow, “so soon?” 

The girl nodded and sat up to face him. 

“I’ll be back, I promise.” She smiled shyly and rubbed her nose against his. 

“Where do you go… I mean where do you go while we’re aboard?” He stumbled over his words, still catching his breath. 

“Here,” she offered no further clarification as Matthew gave her a questioning look. She pressed her hand against his cheek and laughed. 

“Don’t worry about where I go, sailor. The sea is my home.”

Matthew kissed her hastily as he redid his pants and pulled his suspender straps back over his shoulders. She stood and kissed him once more before she stepped over the edge and dropped into the water. In seconds she was resurfacing with her silver tail. 

“Let me ask you one thing,” Matthew stopped her before he could leave, “are you real? Was that real?” He gestured to the bottom of the boat and the girl laughed brightly. 

“Be wary, sailor. You might just lose your mind."

Matthew nodded and watched as she backed away and dove into the dark water beyond the reflection of light from the deck. Moments later, a whistle sounded and he was called to return to the ship. Forcing himself to look away from the place where the girl disappeared, he felt the familiar material of his old coat that he had wrapped around the girl earlier on the plank beside him, folded and damp.

...

End of Pt. 2!

[thollandneedy]

Don't you know- Peter Parker

A/n: Nah 'cause that fucking happened to me last week and i HAD TO write about it (Ofc with very different context and description). Btw, i listened to "Don't you know" by James Young while writing it, in case someone likes to listen to music while reading

Warnings: Swearing and smut

Summary: Peter and Y/n get stuck on traffic, but that doesn't mean that it have to be boring...

Don’t forget to share, like, comment and leave your ideas here

Bellah’s Masterlist 🪻

"Shut up" Y/n exclaims, smiling at her boyfriend.

"I told you May, would get me one," Peter comments, crossing his arms and looking sideways at the girl next to him, who seems to be enchanted by the small black car the boy had gotten for his eighteenth birthday.

"It's so cute! I love it." The girl laughs, walking a few steps forward and leaning her weight on the open window, so that she can see the details of the car her boyfriend had won.

"Say goodbye to meters and borrowed cars. Now I'm a new man." Peter walked to the front door, opened it and sat down in the driver's seat. His body slouches forward, reaching out and pulling the door open so that his girlfriend can get into the car too. "And I'm going to take my dear lady for a ride in this little beauty here" The brunette put both hands on the steering wheel.

May had always been a hard-working woman, and supporting her nephew when the boy's parents died had become a kind of livelihood so that she could have the energy to work. Due to financial difficulties, Peter didn't have anything above his aunt's budget, but after a promotion, she had finally managed to scrape together enough to give her nephew a car. Stark had also helped with some of the finances and to make the car more powerful than it already was, so it was a gift from both of them to the hero.

Y/n put on her seatbelt, pulling one of its sides until she could feel the pressure against her body. The girl slipped one of her free hands over Peter's hand, which was on the automatic gearshift, allowing him to give it to her after shifting into gear and continuing his journey. Late evening in New York was slowly falling, as the orange light from the buildings reflected off the crowded streets during rush hour. A few bars and restaurants were starting to open, and Peter had his plan to take his girlfriend out for a bite to eat and then park their conversations in an empty parking lot so that they could also get some alone time. The girl took off her two shoes, crossed her legs covered by jeans, and opened Spotify on her transparent cell phone with a Polaroid photo of the two of them.

"Can I put on a song?" The girl asks.

"Sure, love." Peter updates the car's multimedia while his girlfriend searches for something to listen to. 

"So, tell me. Who chose the car? Did you know you'd win?" The girl rests her hands on her lap.

"May had commented that one day she would give me everything I asked for, but it was never something I cared much about. She got a promotion at the hospital, and consequently her salary increased. Ever since I turned 16, she was raking it in." Peter comments without taking his eyes off the street.

"So you're going to be my private driver?" Y/n asked jokingly, causing the brunette to check his eyes in response.

"As far as I know, you have a driver's license." The hero laughs.

"Why would I drive if now you can take me wherever I want? I thought that was the definition of a passanger princess." The girl put her hand to her chest in an attempt to express surprise.

"Oh yes! Of course." Peter laughs.

(...)

"I'm literally going to explode," Peter says, opening the restaurant door so that his girlfriend can get out first. 

"Tell me about it." The girl says, putting her hand on her stomach and then looking at the time on her cell phone. "Fuck, we've got to get going. My parents will kill me if I'm late on a weekday."

"I thought they'd take it easy on you after eighteen." Peter takes the car key out of his pocket.

"They trust me, but still, we live in New York and they're worried." The girl shrugged, unable to contradict her parents.

"I'll take care of you, kitten. You're safe from the dangers of the night when you walk with me." Peter says proudly, causing a low chuckle from his girlfriend who was walking with her arms crossed.

"Of course! Let's pull you out of the superhero closet and tell my parents that I'm dating a guy who could have an accident at any moment in a fight with evil, technological villains." Y/n opens the car door, then sits down again.

"I think it's a great idea. We can let them know that you'll be moving in with me when I pass MIT, and we'll live in a house in the country with two kids and a dog." Peter comments, closing the car door and continuing his journey.

The white lights of the streets, together with the moon, gave the teenagers an unreal feeling. That feeling that the world isn't real, and their existence is just another speck in the middle of several grains of sand on a beach called the universe. The car drove slowly, on purpose, as Peter didn't want his girlfriend to leave. A slow song was playing on Y/n's Bluetooth, which responded to the music by diverting its eyes from the multimedia system implanted in the center of the car's dashboard. 

Peter laughed out loud when he read the name of the playlist the song was part of

"Really? Sexy guilty pleasure? That's the name of your sex playlist?" Peter makes fun of his girlfriend, who stares at him while holding in her laughter.

"In my defense, I started it when I was 16 and I haven't changed it because I find the name comical." The girl smiles as she says it, remembering when she had started exploring the literary universe of hot scenes in books that seemed innocent.

"Your sex life is comical, Y/n." Peter laughs, but then realizes what he's just said, and also jokes about himself without realizing it.

Y/n laughs out loud

"You're terrible at insults." The girl nods, looking at the passing streets like a drawing blurred by the speed of the car.

"Why haven't I ever heard that playlist?" The brunette lowered his eyes again to the name of the playlist playing in his car.

"I use it from time to time to read, or even when I... well... you know." Peter feels the blush rising to his cheeks.

His sex life with Y/n was almost restricted, and could even be considered for those over 14 if they were to classify it. Peter and Y/n hadn't had sex yet, let alone talked about it openly since their time together was considerably short. Even when they were friends, the subject of sex had never come up, unless they were in a circle of older friends and both were drunk. But even in this state, it seemed like a great sin to talk about sex. 

"Really?" Peter swallows dryly, stopping at a red light and running both hands down his dark-wash jeans.  "And what's that like?"

Y/n sucks in a breath when she hears her boyfriend's question. Their eyes meet, then dart away again in an attempt to make the conversation as awkward as possible. Y/n never had a problem talking about sex, but when it came to Peter, even his presence made her nervous.

"When I..." The girl tries to finish the sentence, really being precise in asking if he was asking about what she does in the long hours alone at night while Peter is asleep.

The boy can hear his girlfriend's heartbeat increasing and her throat swallowing. 

"That's it." He cuts her off.

The light turns green, and the blaring horn of a car cuts through the tension created between the two. Peter turns his eyes to the busy streets, while Y/n searches for confidence in herself. 

She looks at him out of the corner of her eye.

Gray shirt clinging to her toned muscles

Tight pants drawing her ass in perfectly

Puffed-out chest

Perfectly wavy hair

Her legs cross over each other, shrinking her body.

“Holy fuck” Peter thinks when he saw his girlfriend crossing her legs 

"It's nice. I like listening to music and closing my eyes, because I seem to get lost in time and sensation." The girl says, still silently watching hers boyfriend's reaction. "I like being without anything on my body. Just the cold sheets because of the air conditioning I turn on, so I don't sweat so much."

Peter pressed the steering wheel against his hands

"And what do you think about?" The boy asks as if his words were sailing over brittle ice.

Y/n takes a deep breath, turning half her torso towards her boyfriend.

What was she thinking?

Perhaps the times her parents went out on business, and the couple found themselves on the sofa taking off only their blouses. Or when she first felt Peter hard while she was on his lap kissing him

When he came out of the shower with just a towel tied around his waist, and his hair dripping with cold water. 

When he used his index finger to touch her chin, and pull her into a kiss

Those same fingers that could touch you so deeply that your legs would collapse without the strength to stand up, and he would pick you up to use you once again as whatever he wanted you to be. Only he could make you feel so wet that you didn't want his touch so close for fear of losing the track.

"You"

Peter feels his cock against the factory of his underpants.

"Tell me about what." His voice comes out sultry, as if for a few seconds, he had put his shame aside. "I want to hear you, love," the brunette asked, taking one of his hands off the gearshift and slowly reaching for Y/n's hand, which was resting on his thigh with the cell phone.

Peter had never acted or spoken like that, but he couldn't deny to himself that he wanted more. He always wanted more, not even if he had to imagine tasting his girlfriend's sweetness. His cock was throbbing against his pants, and he could feel it twitching inside them, while his breathing made a point of being nervous. Feeling Y/n on his fingers, wrinkling them with the groove of his cum, or even thinking about the sensation of his walls meeting his cock, made him lose his shame in seconds. 

When he thought about it, it was something extremely out of touch with reality, but everything he wanted to do, fortunately the initiative had to come from him. Hearing from his own girlfriend that she masturbated thinking about what he was doing was like raising the hackles of a king

The car seemed to get smaller and smaller, and not even the wind in the air could stop them both wanting to take off their clothes. The leather seat seemed to cling to their sweaty skins, searching for something to hold them inside the car. For Y/n, she couldn't describe whether the situation was good or bad, as her sexual experiences had not been very positive during her teenage years.

"I think of your touch. That time we kissed, and I could feel you brushing past my thigh and slowly trying to find my clit." The girl adjusted her posture in the chair, letting her legs relax as well as her posture.

Peter, for his part, could feel everything she was feeling. His powers allowed him to see that she was getting more and more comfortable in the seat because her hard-on was increasing with every double entendre word that was directed at her, and it was a very interesting game to play in the car during a post-work commute in New York. The cars moved slowly, and even if the clock asked them to go faster, they didn't want to. 

"Did you like it?" One of Peter's fingers slid down, tracing a straight line between the upper part of Y/n's thigh.

"Uh-huh." The girl commented, seeing that her hand had now lost the warmth of his touch, so that her body could feel it. 

"Me too." Peter comments, allowing his whole hand to touch Y/n's thigh, squeezing it briefly as a silent sign of confirmation that everything was okay. Then, his middle finger traced a line down the middle of her legs, causing a low moan to escape Y/n's mouth, who, still embarrassed, allowed her legs to spread further apart. The hero's cock was begging to be touched, but this wasn't the first time he'd thought of doing it. His plan had always been to let things happen naturally, but he was also smart enough to know that now with a car, he had more freedom.

"Peter." Y/n's hand finds his fist. "And if anyone sees. There are traffic cameras that can...

"The windows are tinted." Parker comments, looking directly at his girlfriend's breasts which were becoming more and more exposed against her clingy blouse. " Are you okay?"

"Please." Y/n begs in a sly request, drawing a naughty smile from the brunette. 

His index finger fingered his girlfriend's wet spot against the factory of her pants, putting pressure on the girl who relaxed her body against the seat. With one hand on the steering wheel and the other between his girlfriend's legs, Peter grunts to himself.

"Fuck, Y/n. You... you have no idea how much I've wanted to touch you for months." Peter confesses, biting his lip as he feels the girl roll against his fingers and lay her head back on the bench. 

"You have?" The girl gasps.

"We've never been able to spend much time alone, and I've always refused to do anything because... fuck... I can't want to fuck you," Parker confesses, trying to balance the car, his hard-on and his girlfriend at the same time.

Y/n feels her feet fall from the stereotypical virgin pedestal she has built for herself. Peter had never been a saint, and as hard as it was to believe because of his cute face and lack of girl-talking skills, he was still a male teenager who had desires and wishes repressed by shame. 

"Peter." Y/n groans lowly, gripping the hero's wrist tightly as he manages to find her weak spot.

A satisfied smile came from his lips as he began to make circular movements, causing the girl to moan a little louder. Y/n lowered her eyes to the pants that suddenly seemed to be tighter than usual on hers boyfriend. His decency as a person had gone, and all she could think about was tasting him and making him feel so good that he spoke his name out loud without caring if anyone heard.

"Yes. Speak my name, Y/n." The brunette asked, continuing his movements, but increasing the speed.

The friction was intense, and it would have been easy for her to finish right where she started, but her sense of justice and pity tried to speak louder.

"I wanted to touch you." Y/n exposed, staring shamelessly at the bulge in Peter's pants. 

"You talk so innocently as if you didn't want me to be fucking you with my fingers on this very bench." Peter lets out a sarcastic laugh, denying it to himself, and casting a longing glance at him.

Y/n's walls contract as he speaks, as if his body had a will of its own and felt empty when he had nothing to satisfy his carnal desires. 

"I can hear your heart racing, darling." Peter takes his hand off the wheel for a moment, squeezing his hard cock as a form of relief.

Removing the hand that was between his girlfriend's legs, he adjusts the rearview mirror and looks both ways down the avenue. 

"Why did you stop?" The girl straightens her posture in concern.

"I need you now."

"What?" Y/n swallows dryly.

"I want to have sex with you now. Do you?" Parker asks angrily.

Without thinking, Y/n replies:

"I want to" 

"Okay." The boy shifts into gear so that he can change lanes and find another road that leads further away. In a moment of anxiety, the car dies. "Fuck!" Peter curses, drawing a nervous smile from his girlfriend.

"Let's get out of here, Parker. I'm dying to get a taste of you."