canyonsmns

[canyonsmns]

… I think I love you

Summary: you definitely like Harry, and he may like you, but your insecurities might be preventing you from ever finding out— featuring a friends-with-benefits situation, a heavy dose of self degradation (not the sexy kind) and miscommunication between both characters.

Pairing: normie!reader x famous!harry

Warnings: there’s a lot of crying

Word-count: around 3.2k

a/n: this idea came to me when I saw this couple at a party yesterday and she was sitting in his lap and he was peppering kisses along her neck and I just love love, so here we go (obviously it wouldn’t be fun without at least a little angst tho). I did write this in like an hour and I didn‘t edit, so go easy on me :).

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Harry was being weird.

He was touching her all over, pulling her to sit in his lap and littering kisses along the expanse of her neck, all while keeping his arms circled around her waist. He was resting his chin on her shoulder, staying mostly quiet even though he usually always had something to say. He was stroking her skin, touching wherever he could get through to her winter clothing. He was ignoring all of the strange looks he was receiving from his friends, lips molding into a slight smirk against her skin as they spoke politics and gossip at the table.

Y/N had a horrible feeling in her stomach. It was unusual for Harry to show so much affection around their friends— the two of them had just agreed that their friends didn’t need to see so much of their arrangement. It wasn’t like they were dating, or better yet, in love, so keeping it to themselves seemed like the sensible thing to do. Don’t get her wrong; their friends knew about it, but Y/N and Harry mostly kept the physical aspects in the bedroom for no one to see. He surely had never been so blatant about it.

Her heart was pounding. To be fair, her heart always did that when Harry was around. Y/N had had a crush on Harry since she’d met him years ago, but back then she hadn’t thought she’d have much of a chance with him. Y/N had heard of him dating supermodels, rich girls with a ‘perfect figure’ and scandalous backgrounds and had always kept the idea of a relationship with Harry Styles far far away in an attempt of self preservation.

But then he’d kissed her.

He’d been drunk when he did it, but Y/N hadn’t cared in the slightest. When morning came, Harry had explained that he wasn’t looking for a relationship and that while he thought Y/N was wonderful, he didn’t want anything serious with her.

She’d remembered those words and lived religiously by them.

Only calling him when she really needed him, allowing him to knock on her door whenever he felt like fucking her, being okay with acting in the role of little play toy even though she’d always liked him.

And it wasn’t like their arrangement wasn’t mutual— it had started out that way, but it was slowly eroding her mind— exhausting her until all she did some nights was cry.

And even though Harry’s touch felt wonderful, and his confident display of affection had initially warmed her heart, all she wanted to do right now was cry. Cry because she was realizing, through all of this, that something like this was all she’d ever wanted. With Harry, without Harry— she’d been needing something real, and this wasn’t real. This was all pretend, a silly arrangement between two incompatible friends; one famous bastard and one delusional office job girl, his handsome face and her insecure mind.

She couldn’t handle being with him sometimes. She would open the door of her apartment, let her eyes trail over his features and doubt that he wanted to be there with her. It seemed so farfetched that he would want to fuck her, that he’d want to touch her body and kiss away her fears. She almost felt disgusted by it, by his touch, knowing that he’d touched other, better women— and many of them.

She always made him turn the lights off.

So there was no doubt that he was drunk out of his mind right now. Because why else would inform their whole friend group— not just select friends, their whole group which consisted of some mere acquaintances, of their relationship. Situationship. Whatever it had blossomed into.

Harry’s hand was burning against her stomach and she couldn’t do it anymore. She excused herself quietly to the bathroom. Y/N knew Harry’s house like the back of her hand, so she found it rather easily and walked inside. She didn’t lock the door, just washed her hands. Over, and over, and over again. She washed away all of her horrible, degrading thoughts and tried to drown out the mean voices.

You were your own worst enemy.

The knock she heard on the door was loud, but it didn’t interrupt her train of thoughts. She kept her mind on his hands, his wonderful hands, on her disgusting skin. She wanted to wash away the pain.

She could see Harry out of her periphery. She went back to the soap dispenser.

“You okay?”

Her hands became rougher with it as his voice invaded on her privacy. Her eyes became glossy as she turned on the water again. There was no doubt in her mind that Harry was watching her every move, but she didn’t really care about that.

“Y/N, turn the water off.”

She did it almost instantaneously, like she’d been needing somebody other than herself to tell her to do it because her mind wasn’t strong enough to convince her of it. Harry grabbed a towel, slowly drying her hands and massaging them until they were warm and dry again.

He was staring at her, but she didn’t care if she looked strange to him now. She was strange. She’d always felt like she was faking around Harry— like she needed to be a certain version of herself in order for him to like her, and so there was this wall of pretentiousness that came with being around him.

Sometimes she wasn’t perfect or sensible, sometimes she wanted to wash her hands like a lunatic and cry all the while doing it, so he needed to finally see that. See the pain he was causing her.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, eyes trailing over her features delicately.

“Nothing,” she answered with her gaze on her hands, which were still in the towel.

“Do you want me to kick them out?”

“No,” she shook her head quickly, very decisive in her answer. “Don’t kick them out.”

It was a weird concept anyway, kicking his own friends out so he could… what, comfort her out of whatever state she’d landed in?

He took her hands delicately and interlaced them with his, throwing the towel onto the floor somewhere. She watched as it fell, as her hands found their new home in his, and finally looked up to see Harry already looking at her.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she said, almost furious.

“Like what?” He had this innocent glint in his eye, void of any bad intentions and almost oblivious to her anger.

“Like you want to kiss me.”

“I do want to kiss you,” he smiled. Then he squeezed her hands, “can I?”

Y/N could never say no to that, so with her silence, but also her body inching closer to his, came the approval he’d been looking for. He anchored a hand onto her jaw, allowing his lips to linger on hers with a solid grasp.

Her eyes fluttered shut, the tears forming in them finally released.

Y/N deepened it, trying to latch into him even more to make these feelings go away, convince herself that everything was fine as long as Harry was actually kissing her, but the ill feeling in her stomach worsened.

She broke away from him, pressing her forehead to his chin and shook her head. “I can’t do this anymore.”

He was still smiling. “What?”

Panic had risen in her chest, but she still wanted to go through with this.

“I want to end this.” This because she had no idea what they were.

Harry’s eyebrows drew together in concern but when he let his hands rest on her waist, she pulled away. “I can’t. I don’t want this anymore.”

“You mean— what, you mean us?”

She nodded, “I’m sorry.”

“Why… I mean, what… since when have you—“

“Weeks, I think. I need time alone, away from you. I can’t… I want something more than this.”

He pulled away, “oh.”

“Not with you!“ she rushed to say, later realizing that it had sounded a bit offensive when he frowned in response, “but I’m getting older and I need to feel like I’m going somewhere with my life, you know? Can’t just keep being somebody’s fuck buddy.”

The words tasted sour in her mouth.

“Oh,” he said again, and it drove her crazy. Why couldn’t he just say something other than that?

He was so enigmatic that it was hard to say goodbye to him, but she had to. She had to cut ties, at least for a little, so she could recover and find somebody who didn’t make her feel bad about herself, but also did everything else exactly the way Harry did them.

“Alright, if that’s what you want,” he nodded. It was robotic, his face stoic.

There was no fight in him— she didn’t know whether she was delighted or angered by it.

She was staring at him like she wanted to memorize every curve of his mouth, his nose, the exact shade of his irises. She knew this was the end, their demise, and if she never got to be close with him again, maybe it would be fine if she could look back and remember everything about him.

Y/N left Harry in that bathroom and headed straight home.

—

Y/N hadn’t seen any of her friends in a month. Her time had been overwhelmed with work and therapy, days spent at home crying because the lack of a romantic future in her life had finally sunk in. She was broken. She was hurt and ruined, and it had all really been her fault.

But she wanted to get out again. She wanted to see her friends and let her lips curl into a relieved smile at the sight of them goofing around drunk, or making jokes about how hellish it was to be alive.

She’d gone over the possibility of running into Harry and decided it would be fine, that she’d taken enough time away to cope with seeing him again.

He arrived at Sarah’s house at 10 pm, a glass of wine latched onto his glove-covered hand. Y/N watched from the kitchen as he gave her a hug, toed off his shoes and caught her eyes. He tried to smile, as did she, and raised his arm in a wave. Y/N nodded in acknowledgement, beginning to play with the bottle of beer in her hands. She was nervous. She was broken.

Her friends had seen it, of course, the exchange, but they stayed quiet. Neither of them had spoken about their falling out, but their scattered separate arrivals at house gatherings as well as her loud absence from the last few ones had confirmed things further.

She’d tried to avoid him, but Sarah’s house wasn’t as big as Harry’s. There was less space and everywhere she was, Harry couldn’t be more than a few feet away. There was a magnetic force that she was trying to ignore, as well as the pained looks he would be so blatant about.

Once things had quieted down, and the group had left to scatter in small gatherings around the fire place, on the couch, outside on the patio, Y/N felt it the best opportunity to sneak into the hall where no one was around.

Well, no one but him. He always seemed to find her.

“I went on a date last week.”

Y/N sighed, “you’ve gotta stop following me around—“

“Because I hadn’t, you know,” he said, voice cracking and hand tightening around his glass, “I hadn’t been on one in months. Ever since we started, actually. Never thought it was necessary, or that I wanted to. But then you left, and I thought about what you said, and I really wanted to date. So I went to the bar, you know? I went to the bar and I… I saw this girl, and she was beautiful. She had long, wavy hair and she wore these really cute glasses, you know? Like, these brown tortoiseshell glasses similar to the ones you wear sometimes, and I fell in love with those glasses. Just fucking… couldn’t stop staring at them. I was thinking about you and about the night you left and I…” the words seemed to get lost somewhere in his throat, but he had this look on his face that mirrored painful confusion.

“Harry—“

“I want you to know that that ruined me.”

That was it. After that, he left. He faced the other way and walked away from her. It wasn’t until he reached the door and opened it that she started following him.

“No!” She protested, “no, you don’t get to say that to me and walk away from me, you dick. You were the one who… who— just, you hurt me!”

That seemed to irk him (she’d wanted it to) because he turned again, stepping so close that she started backtracking, “I hurt you? I hurt you? You were the one who left!”

“Because you’re confusing as fuck!”

“What do you even—“ he shook his head, “you’re fucking quiet. You never tell me what you’re thinking or how you’re feeling and all at once, you burst at me. You never… you never say anything.”

“That’s what you wanted, Harry, so don’t tell me it’s only me when it was always about sex. You wanted the arrangement, you wanted booty calls, you wanted—“

“I wanted you to be you! The way you were when we were friends— so I tried to get you to open up, get closer to you, but you would never let me!”

Y/N was sure their friends could hear them from the living room, but she couldn’t find it in her to worry. “Why let myself get hurt when all this was was some stupid way to pass time? Cause that’s all it was, right? You call me, I call you— that’s fine, but it’s not worth exposing my secrets for.”

“Right, well I was under the impression things were going better but fine, if that’s what you think.”

She tutted. “Don’t do that. You told me you didn’t date, that we couldn’t start anything more and I never pushed you. I did exactly as you said.”

He blew out a breath, “things change.”

“I don’t know if you did, honestly.”

“I did.”

“You did?” She challenged, knowing it would blow up in her face. “What changed? Tell me exactly what changed, because it all felt pretty normal to me! But I don’t know, maybe I missed your devastating declaration of love, or maybe I—“

“Alright, I love you, okay?” He was gripping his face in frustration, not nearly confident to look her in the eyes. In a more controlled tone, he repeated himself. “I love you.”

She scoffed. Out loud. It was followed by a laugh too, her scoff, and it reverberated through the room. Then she shook her head, and she couldn’t believe the audacity of him.

“Right, okay.”

He gave a sigh, tired. “Stop invalidating my feelings.”

His voice harbored just enough vulnerability for her to feel for him.

“You’re insecure about us, I get it. You were hurt, I understand. I didn’t want more when you did, I understand that too— but you weren’t the only one who got hurt in the end. It may have started out as a simple arrangement, but you know damn well things started changing months ago. I was showing you different sides of myself so that you would show the other, imperfect sides of you, but you never compromised with me. You wanted me to turn the lights off. You don’t even believe me when I say that I love you! Do you get how devastating it feels to tell someone that you love them and not only do they not feel the same way, they don’t even believe you could be capable of it?”

And she… she didn’t know what to say after that.

He was right, she supposed. She hadn’t considered his feelings in the matter.

“I do love you. I do. But if you think we’re a joke and we were never even real anyway, then fine.”

He’d started to distance himself, taking a few steps backwards from where she stood. She wanted to cry, but she didn’t want him to think she was trying to play victim— it was just what she did whenever she felt overwhelmed.

Y/N let him leave. Let him open the door and walk out, back to their friends, as she stood there alone. He was walking away from her.

And once the door closed, she burst into tears.

Her insecurities were mean, they were heavy on every part of her being right now.

She faced the front door leading outside and cried, trying to be as quiet as she could so nobody would hear her.

He did, though, or at least he had a feeling she was crying because he came back shortly after, almost like he’d been stood just outside regretting ever leaving. She could almost picture it, the door closing, their friends staring back at him with questioning glances— how he may have shut his eyes and released a deep breath before readying himself to get swallowed whole by the dramatics of it all over again. She was facing away from him, but her shoulders trembled in fear and he could kind of see her through the reflection of the door.

“Y/N.”

She shook her head.

“Y/N, turn around.” When she didn’t comply, Harry rounded around so she would look at her and pulled her in for a hug, hesitant at first but becoming more confident as he felt her relax. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to make you cry.”

“Don’t, I’ve been horrible to you. Fucking stupid.“

He shook his head. “It’s both of our faults.”

“I just… I always thought you wouldn’t like me as anything more than what we were and I wasn’t thinking.”

“I know,” he shushed her, pressing his lips to the crown of her head and letting them linger there. “I know you didn’t mean to hurt me.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sorry too.”

She sniffled, “I forgive you.”

He chuckled against her forehead, his chest heaving against hers. Her lips were curling into a small smile as well. She couldn’t help but mirror him.

“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way, I didn’t mean to… you know, say it like that in the middle of an argument. Shouldn’t have done that.”

She thought for a moment before settling on a subtle shrug. “Think I do though.”

He laughed, “you think?”

She moved to rest her chin on his chest, a glint in her wet eyes as she spoke, “if I say I know, will you date me for real?”

His grin was wide. “I don’t know, don’t you think it’s a bit too soon for dating? I mean, I just told you I love you.”

“You’re confusing that way, love is fine but dating’s a strict no. I wouldn’t be surprised with how anti-relationships you are.”

Harry pinched her bum, rolling his eyes. “That was before I knew you think you may be in love me. Now I’m considering it.”

She looked extra cute because her eyes were still glossy and red, but she seemed happier, smile completely molding her features. “Hm, well I guess I better know then.”

He leaned down enough to nudge her nose with his, “you probably should.”

“I love you,” she whispered, breath hitting his lips. “I know I do.”

He kissed her then, pulling her impossibly close. “Again,” he’d said, and she obeyed. He gave her two short kisses, mumbling, “again” over and over again until he had his fill.

He couldn’t resist the last finishing kiss, lasting just a few seconds longer than the other ones. “Let’s go home.”

—

the end!

[canyonsmns]

Get in loser, we're going to Mandalore

[canyonsmns]

[canyonsmns]

Christian Bale as Bruce Wayne BATMAN BEGINS (2005)

[canyonsmns]

American Psycho (2000)

[canyonsmns]

sore

in which y/n is sore from certain activities and harry wants to help her as much as possible

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content : fluff with detailed mentions of smut

word count : 1.3k

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notes : hi guys, i missed you !!! i’m so sorry its been forever but i’ve been really buys recently with exams and getting my wisdom teeth out and some mental health stuff, but i’m back :D !!! hope you enjoy this one and have a great day !!! harry loves you and go stream As It Was ofc ;)

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the sun had come out today.

and no, not just the one shining through your window, illuminating your bedroom walls, but rather the one rubbing his hands against your bare back. his cold touch had woken you up from what was probably one of the most peaceful sleeps you have had in a while, most likely caused by the previous night.

harry hadn’t touched you in a while, and he was eager to get his hands on you, to say the least. it had been about three weeks since the last time that the two of you were able to just spend a night with each other. first, it was because you had to visit your parents as they prepared to move out of their house, and you had stayed there for a night or two. then, it was harry who didn’t have time, as he was working on a new single and was spending day and night in the studio. and when it finally came to the night where you both were available, even if it was just for some tired and sloppy sex, your period had started. thankfully, it was now over and done with and the you could finally get your hands all over harry.

the night had started out slow, but you both knew it couldn’t possibly stay that way, as you were so eager for his touch. needless to say, there wasn’t much teasing. 

harry had quite an obsession with touching his love all over, whether it was caressing your body or using his lips and tongue to make you come undone. that night, he mainly performed the latter. 

twice.

while you were laying on the bed, chest rising fast as two orgasms had already been wiped out of you, harry was painfully hard at his sight of his breathless wife in front of him. 

so, he went to town with you.

hard.

honestly, it had been a while since the two of you had gone so rough while you had sex, but both of you had missed it so much. as you were a virgin before you met harry, you had assumed that rough sex was a mix of curses and “punishment” and daddy issues. but with harry, it was so much different. he still used the same loving words that he would use when the two of you would slowly make love. sure, there were some differences, such as the nails scratching against his back and the screams that probably made your neighbors freak out, but the fact still remained the same that no matter what, harry always made you feel loved and appreciated when in bed together. 

the whole night was amazing, but what happened after was a blur. you honestly didn’t think your feet had touched the ground at all that night, as harry insisted on picking you up from the bed and bringing you to the bathroom that way. you had a rule to always pee after sex, to prevent UTIs and stuff, but your legs were still shaking and both you and harry’s releases were dripping down your inner thighs, so he had no choice but to carry you into the restroom and help you clean up there. 

“g’morning, baby.” harry whispered into your ear, cutting off your thoughts and sending chills down your bare back, where his fingers still stroked. 

you let out a sigh, as you turned your head to face his, eyes still barely open. “hi.” 

he smiled, kissing your lips as you shifted your body towards his, feeling your way down his shirtless body. a moan released from your lips as he brushed his hands over your nipples, the both of you sitting on the bed now. 

he sloppily broke the kiss. “i made you breakfast. waffles and strawberries sound alright?” 

you nodded, pecking his nose before swinging your feet around the bed. you felt a slight ache in your lower region but didn’t think too much of it. however, when you stepped with both feet on the ground, your knees buckled, and you almost fell over due to the sensation. 

“whoa, whoa, whoa, love.” harry held his hands out and attempted to stabilize you as you stood. “are you feeling alright? y’dizzy?”

you shook your head, letting out a breath. “no, i think i just landed wrong.” you stepped forward and immediately felt the sore feeling again. glancing at harry’s concerned face, you realized what the issue was.

you were sore.

“y/n? are you in pain? what’s going on?”

you laughed a little, falling into his chest. “i’m okay, really.”

“let’s sit you back down, baby, c’mon-”

“no, no, harry, i’m fine. i think i’m just a little bit… uhh… sore?” you phrased the last sentence like it was a question.

“y’pulled something? i can massage it if you need me to.” harry trailed his hands down to your back before picking you up to wrap around his body.

“harry, i- ouch!” his hands pulled your thighs apart while you straddled him in the air, causing you to gasp out. 

“whadidido?” he started down at you, horrified.

“nothing, baby. can you put me down though? it hurts a little bit more now.” he placed you on the bed while you gripped his forearms, keeping him in-between you. 

“i’m sorry, y/n. where did you pull the muscle? y’said you were sore, right?”

you giggled a little bit. “harry, i meant like, down there.”

“in your legs?” he looked down at your calves.

“nope.”

“thighs?” he brushed the soft skin in that area, making your heart flutter just a little bit.

“closer.” 

“oh.” his face softened as he finally realized what you were talking about. he smirked, gently stroking the pad of his index finger over the sensitive area that was only clothed by a pair of boxers, that being the only clothes you were wearing. “here.” 

you breathed out, knowing that he was doing that on purpose. “yes,” you grabbed his hand and pulled it away, only slightly annoyed that he was trying to turn you on when you had just said you were sore. “there.”

his smirk grew even larger as he realized that he had done this to you. now, obviously he didn’t want you in pain, but you weren’t in pain, just slightly uncomfortable. “i must be good at what i do, love.”

you smacked his arm with a pillow, rolling your eyes as you stood up and limped over to the closet to pick out a shirt to put on, so your nipples weren’t exposed to the cold air. “i got ya, honey, hold on.”

he reached the closet before you could, turning to pick out one of his sweaters.

you gasped slightly, seeing the scratch marks on his back. “oh my g-”

“what?” he turned around again, tossing you a blue cashmere sweater.

“your back! did i do that? i’m so sorry!”

he smiled, shaking his head as he pulled the sweater over your body. “yeah, you did, but i don’t care, honestly. doesn’t hurt.” he kissed your lips as you breathed out a sigh of relief. “but you, on the other hand, can barely walk.”

he helped you walk into the bathroom, suggesting that a bath might help, and that breakfast can wait. you nodded, just wanting to spend time with your lover. 

“come with me?” you questioned, as you liked harry’s company in showers and baths. 

“of course, m’love.” both of you got undressed and harry helped you into the warm tub, placing a purple bath bomb into the water. you leaned against his chest as he stroked your arm up and down lazily, as if he was about to doze off.

bathing with harry was one of your favorite pastimes, as you loved how he would just hold you between his legs as he played with your hair and whispered i love you in-between sloppy kisses, until the cold waffles sitting in the kitchen downstairs were completely forgotten about. 

- 

[canyonsmns]

ANDREW GARFIELD 94th Annual Academy Awards

+ Bonus:

[canyonsmns]

Andrew???

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x/x/x/x

[canyonsmns]

Hands - HS ONE SHOT (18+)

Summary: You’re on set with harry as he takes pictures for his pleasing nail polish and you can’t help but admire how sexy his hands look. 

Pairing: Dom!harry x Sub!reader

Warnings: smut, fingering, hand kink and swearing

A/N: this is 18+ so please if you are younger don’t read on.

Harry is always away with work at the moment, whether is for his concerts or on set for a new film he’s in, he is constantly working which means we don’t get to spend time together as often as we both would like. So when Harry asked if I wanted to to join him at a photoshoot to promote the new colours in the Pleasing range I jumped at the opportunity. I obviously didn’t mind that he would be working but just being in his company was enough and plus I quite liked watching Harry work, I found it rather attractive. 

Keep reading

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+

[canyonsmns]

I’m sure Peter’s mind would be blown the first time you go down on him 🥵

ohhhh yes i love this nonnie, thank you so much!! this went from innocent!peter to nasty!peter

blown - tasm!p.p.

SUMMARY: peter's thought about you like this before but nothing compares to real life.

WARNINGS: smut; oral (m receiving), no sense of dom/sub, slight degradation, breathplay, 18+ MINORS DNI

the following work is my own writing. do not plagairise or copy and paste my works onto another platform. message me about credit.

MASTERLIST

Peter's running his hands through your hair, pushing you closer to him so you kiss his neck harder. You're sucking and licking and biting so hard that a shade of purple already appears on him. "Fuck, (y/n)," he whispers when you start to move down to his collarbone, his Adam's apple bobbing against your temple.

"You're gonna have to be quiet, baby," you whispered back. His Aunt was still downstairs and you two had learned that these walls were not soundproof. "You'd hate it if she sent me home before I make you cum."

He almost groaned at the thought of a ruined orgasm. "Such a fucking tease," Peter pushed you off of him and kissed you softly, his tongue leaving a trail on your bottom lip.

You giggled and started to unbutton the jeans he was wearing, struggling to do so without looking. He helped you and pulled them off himself, leaving them on his floor. You pulled his t-shirt off by the hem and left it with his pants. "Are you nervous?"

Peter shook his head and played with your hair, tucking it behind your ear. "No, baby," he kissed your nose before you sat on your knees in between his legs. Thankfully, neither of you were virgins, but when Peter told you that he'd never had a girl love him like this, you couldn't believe it. "Are you?"

Looking directly into his eyes, you shook your head and peeled off his boxers so his length slapped against his stomach. He noticed how you almost moaned just by looking at it. "Come on, sweetheart," he urged, letting you flatten your tongue at the base and lick to the tip. Peter's head dipped back as his eyes squeezed shut.

The feeling of your tongue on him was a new sensation that he wasn't used to. You wrapped your hand around him--your fingers didn't touch--and brought his tip between your lips. "That's my girl," he groaned when you tightened your lips and sucked. You moved your head down, and as you did so, you traced the veins and texture of him with your tongue. "Please, don't stop," Peter was begging but his hand pulling your hair into a makeshift ponytail reminded you that you weren't in complete control.

He guided your head up and down, slowly make sure everything part of his member was covered in your spit. "Look at you drooling for me," Peter groaned. He pulled you so close to him that your nose pressed to his stomach. He felt your throat clench as he hit the back of it. "Gagging all around me. You want more, don't you?" You tried to nod, even with his dick pushed all the way down your throat.

When he rips you off of him, you gasp desperately for air. A string of drool hangs off your chin but Peter rubs it back onto your lips. He pushes his thumb into your mouth. You suck on it and twirl your tongue around it. "My pretty girl," he smiles and pushes you back down to his cock again. "Want me to fill up your mouth, princess?"

Your lips are even tighter around him now and you're pushing your head up and down by yourself. He's thrusting his hips against your movements so that every time you push down, he pushes himself up. Tears fall from your eyes and down your cheeks but Peter's quick to wipe them away. "Don't cry, baby, I'll make you feel so good, I promise," he moans again with his eyes squeezed shut, fucking even harder into your throat. "Fuck- gonna cum, pretty girl."

One, two, three more thrusts until Peter pulls you off of him and you feel hot spurts on your lips, nose, cheeks, and eyes. "Fuck!" Peter's chest rose and fell with heavy breaths. He moaned when you collected all of him on your fingers and pushed it into your mouth. You swallowed it all.

Peter cupped your cheeks and bit his bottom lip when you squeezed your hand at his base again. "None of that, baby," he smirked and lifted you up onto his lap. "It's my turn, isn't it? I've gotta treat my pretty girl right."

[canyonsmns]

tasm peter ripping ur top off to fuck ur tits.

—my 2 biggest weaknesses combined. tits and tasm peter.

WARNINGS: doggy style, overstimulation, hair pulling??, spit

REQUESTED ✔️

WORD COUNT: 0.6k

MASTERLIST

peter was fucking you so good, your face pushed into the sheets while he pounded your cunt from behind- barely able to breath but never felt better.

one of his hands was keeping your head down in the mattress while the other held onto your hip to guide his thrusts. he was going as fast as he possibly could; yet you still begged for more.

“this isn’t fast enough for you?” he joked, huffing out a breathy chuckle as he buried his cock deeper inside.

“you’re so fucking needy.”

you tried to laugh along with him, but your sudden release easily interrupted you. instead of replying with a bratty comment, the only thing you managed to get out were loud whimpers while he continued to fuck your dripping pussy.

your moans that were once muffled into the sheets were now on full display, peter clutching your hair into a fist to pull you up from the bed and into his chest. his hands were soon wrapped around your stomach, your back pressing against him while his mouth came down to kiss your neck.

“stop! stop- too much” you cried, your body shaking as his quick-paced thrusts started to overstimulate your already throbbing cunt. you felt him smile into your neck, his hips finally slowing down as he let your high subside.

a defeated moan escaped your lips when he slipped out, cunt feeling empty. your head falls down to rest on his shoulder as his hands worked their way towards your dripping pussy.

“love it when you cum on my cock,” he mumbled into your hair, fingers rubbing lightly over your lower lips to collect some of the wetness he had caused.

you let out a short gasp when he suddenly pushed you back into the mattress and flipped you onto your back, a tired groan sounding from your throat as he did so.

“come on pete, at least let me catch my-”

he didn’t let you finish your sentence when his hands were immediately attached to your top, easily ripping it off of your chest and throwing the torn fabric somewhere on the floor. too surprised by his sudden action, you almost didn’t even notice him climb on top of you.

his legs were placed on either side of your arms, achingly hard cock right in front of your face.

“wanna fuck these pretty titties,” he mumbled quietly before grabbing ahold of your hands and bringing them up to his mouth to spit on them before guiding them back down to your breasts.

quickly getting the hint, you started to rub your hands over your tits, earning a sly smile from peter as he slowly thrusted himself between them. he watched as you pushed your wet tits together, giggling when the head of his cock poked out from the top and hit your chin.

he was quick to pick up a fast rhythm in his hips, groaning in ecstasy every time your tongue playfully touched his tip when it came out from the top. he had never fucked your tits before, but you were always down to try new things. especially when it had him moaning like a little bitch.

“so fucking hot,” he moaned, thrusting widely into your soft breasts as he chased his high. “gonna come all over these fucking tits.”

you smiled devilishly when he placed his hands on top of yours, squeezing them together even harder around his dick as he got closer and closer to cumming. he was a whimpering mess, moaning so prettily as he fucked into your tits, loving the way they engulfed his cock.

when he knew he was close to coming, he pulled himself out of your makeshift hole of breast to pump himself, still close enough to where you could continue licking it lightly. it wasn’t long before he was squirming on top of you, hips frantically jerking as his warm cum shot all over your slick chest.

[canyonsmns]

2018 / 2021

[canyonsmns]

x

[canyonsmns]

webbed troubles.

tasm!peter x reader

summary: peter realizes he can't keep his identity a secret from his best friend, especially since you were already so mad at him. | fluff warnings: y/n being a dumbass, peter being a dumbass, everyone being a dumbass. might get gwen flashbacks but I swear it has a happy ending.

Peter took a deep breath in, hoping you'd show up. Just that morning, he had enough of fighting with you, so he sent a message which hopefully looked intriguing and not demanding.

Meet me at the top of my building. Bring no one. Except snacks. Definitely bring snacks. Uh, 8pm btw. *thumbs up emoji*

Surprisingly, it wasn't the most awkward text he sent you.

He checked one last time to see if everything was in place. It had to go perfect — tonight he was finally telling you his secret.

It was 8.15 and he considered giving up, until he saw the door to the rooftop opening.

You stepped inside, clad in your signature clothes that he so adored, but he didn't see any snacks, meaning you weren't going to stick around for long. You still looked mad, so he decided to speak first.

"Hi."

You raised an eyebrow. "Why here? It's like a perfect spot for murder."

For some reason, he instantly winced. "Bad joke, Y/N. Let's not talk about death, alright?"

"Let's not talk about anything," you shrugged. "You can keep on ignoring our projects, our plans. Keep on ignoring me for all I care. But once you leave my life—"

"Don't say that. Please don't. Leaving, death, you're not that optimistic today, are you?" he joked. "And I'm sorry for being shitty this past week."

"You were not shitty, you were secretive. It's almost like you don't trust me anymore," you said angrily, but he only interpreted it as you being hurt. Guilt washed over him again.

"I trust you with my life," he said firmly.

"What were you doing last day then?" you questioned, throwing your arms up in frustration. "I called you ten times. Aunt May said you were in your room but you obviously weren't. Where did you sneak off to?"

He sighed as if to say — you asked for it.

"You sure you wanna know?"

You nodded, that frown still in place. He suddenly looked worried.

Follow the plan, just follow the plan, he kept repeating in his head.

He walked away from you and stood up on the ledge, facing you instead of the other way around. One slight movement could have him toppling off. At this point, you unconsciously stepped forwards, concern being the main motivator.

"Peter, what are you doing—"

"You asked for the truth, and so I'm showing you," he did a little wave before pushing himself off backwards, right off the edge of the roof.

Your hands tried to grab him, but you were only holding empty air.

-

Being Spiderman was fun.

Whenever he falls or jumps off a high place, he's elated because he knows he'll survive. Using webs to hoist himself up was practically second nature now and so the moments right before he use them were his favorites. Those seconds made him feel like he was actually flying. He usually closed his eyes to feel like a bird, just like he did now.

He listened for your screams, but so far it was silent. Maybe you were frozen in shock? He didn't know.

Right before he hit the ground, he shot his webs to the nearest glass window, swinging himself back to the top. Nervous and excited, he landed in his spider-pose, feeling extremely proud of himself. It wasn't everyday that he got to show off.

"Tada!" he exclaimed, straightening up. "I'm Spiderma- wait, Y/N?"

You were nowhere to be seen.

Panicking, he looked at the door but he knew he would have heard footsteps if you were going down the building. So he tried listening for your heartbeats instead, which was hard to do when his own were so loud.

At last he placed it, but that seemed to be coming away from the building.

Realization hit him like a truck — you, like the idiot you were, had jumped after him.

"Y/N? Y/N!" he screamed, looking down and seeing your figure drowning in the air.

Blood rushed to his ears and he shot his webs, trying to connect them with your body. It was as if he was living a nightmare. It was as if you were dying in one.

Fortunately, the webs coiled around you, but unfortunately it also instantly broke. That one second of relief he had vaporized into thin air.

Every little fear he had — every 'what if she's hurt by me?' statement was happening right then and his own powers seemed to be failing him. Eyes wide, eyes brimming with tears, he watched as everything he had was literally falling down.

Then, as if by magic, you landed on a tree branch instead.

"Y/N?" he choked out, not daring to believe it.

"I'm okay!" you yelled pleasantly, raising a thumbs up over your head. "Aw look, I can see little birdies here!"

-

He lifted you back into the roof, fussing over you instantly and profusely. While his concern was thoughtful, it wasn't needed. You were in shock, but physically you were alright.

"You jumped," he said in disbelief, right after making sure you weren't bleeding or wounded. "You fucking jumped after me."

"In my defense, you jumped first," you said shakily, stammering because of the cold. "So if anyone's to blame, it's kinda you. How was I supposed to know you were Spiderman?"

"I WAS SHOWING YOU?"

"I jumped before I saw that part," you admitted, shrugging. "Have you considered maybe saying it instead of giving me a heart attack?"

He blinked, confused as to why you were calmer than him.

"I don't think you're grasping what happened here. You jumped after me. Instead of calling the ambulance or looking at what's actually going on, you jumped."

"I wasn't thinking!" you snapped. "If I stood there and thought about it, of course I wouldn't have done it! All I saw was my best friend plummeting to his death and I thought I could save him."

"With what?"

"I haven't thought of that yet," you said, nodding. "My way through life is to figure things out as I go."

He didn't look amused at all. "You would have died for me."

"I thought you said we shouldn't talk of death? What was your plan anyway? Just jump and come back and hope to god that I don't do anything stupid by then?"

"The plan," he laughed (almost angrily, if possible). "The plan was to show you I was Spiderman, use your moment of shock to point to the left, and maybe afterwards eat the snacks which you didn't even bring!"

"Point to the left? What's on the le—" words caught on your throat, but Peter didn't notice your exclamation, nor you gaping at the scene he had quite literally created.

He went on about how ridiculous you were at doing what you did, how stupid it was, how idiotic — okay he was just using any adjective he could think of.

You, on the other hand, were staring at the Brooklyn Bridge, which had the words I'M SORRY written by nothing but webs.

It was intricately designed, and you remembered how utterly impossible Peter's handwriting was to read, but these three simple words stood out. They must have taken him all day to get done.

For a second there, you wondered what the hell he was apologizing for, then remembered the fight, how he had ditched you last day and how you thought he was with Gwen instead. In reality, he was probably fighting monsters like the idiot he was.

Your best friend saying he's a superhero suddenly felt much less significant in comparison to this huge gesture. Sure it was an apology, but you felt giddy about it, as if it was a confession instead.

"Maybe I was a bit jealous of Gwen," you whispered, making him stop his pacing.

For once, he didn't trust his hearing. He followed your gaze and saw the bridge, suddenly went "oh!" as if he just remembered that part of his plan, blinked rapidly, torn between wanting to keep shouting and wanting to persuade you to say it again.

"What?" he asked instead, thinking he must have heard wrong.

"I said I accept your apology," you said smoothly, getting up and placing a kiss on his cheeks.

His face turned bright pink, and he touched the place after you pulled away, as if he could still feel the warmth of your lips.

You smirked and walked off, making him realize you had just successfully diverted his attention.

"Are you SURE that's what you said?" he called after you, following without hesitation. "You can't just kiss me to get what you want, you know!"

You threw a smile over your shoulder. "When you're confessing your undying love for me next, try not to jump off a building, yeah?"

"That- I- what the- you're annoying!" he spluttered out, hating how his face turned red. But he made a mental note to take that plan off his list.

————————

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[canyonsmns]

ANDREW GARFIELD SAG Awards | February 27, 2022