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Summer walks in nature. The Misty Pond of Villeneuve, 1908. Painter: Henri Biva, oil on canvas.

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William Degouve de Nuncques: The Black Swan (1895)

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Reblog to make the person u reblogged this from comfy n cozy

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reblog to tell the person you reblogged this from that they are deserving of love and affection

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reblog to tell the person you reblogged this from that they are deserving of love and affection

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reblog to tell the person you reblogged this from that they are deserving of love and affection

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oop yeah i feel you, making a new nav is just the worsttt

HIHI BELLY HOW ARE YOU

OMG HI IM OKAY HOW'S YOU HUN?

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She doesn't let me Rot

Summary: Peter shows up at your window vulnerable after a fight. When you're healing him, he finally crosses the line of being 'just friends'.

Warnings: Smut. Injuries, blood. Some angst at the beginning. Tasm!Peter. Spooning, bareback. Friends to lovers troupe. Peter is sad at first, he gets that healing bussy tho :]

a/n: don't mind that last warning, just having my fun :3

Navigation.

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It was the mere exhaustion caved into his very bones— or it could be the rot going right through his muscles; maybe both perhaps. It was in those moments of vulnerability that he wished to not be a hero.

But heroes are brave and they fight and they aren't weakned by the sight of their own scarlet— but rather of others.

He didn't feel like a hero in those seconds and minutes. He didn't feel brave— he was in anguish; he was torn.

Peter Parker felt as if he were a tragedy.

He took a sharp breath, as he closed his eyes, an optic of you flashed through his skull. He should go over to you— you'd stay with him, you wouldn't let him rot.

He hesitated for a moment; he didn't want to be a burden. But the need of him for you was too strong for him to avert. Within seconds, he found himself shooting swift white webs out from his wrists, precisely moving through the spaces of skyscrapers he found himself landing outside your window.

Peter's hand tapped the glass in a repetitive manner— a form of a message to let you know that it was him waiting at your doorstep.

His eyes scintillated as your silhouette came into view. He smiled— a painfully obvious way to hide the torture he was that you knew all too well.

"Peter— you idiot" you gasped, hands unhinging the window to let him in. Your hands found themselves over his shoulders and you pulled him in.

He wasn't sure why, but his eyes were tearing up and he crushed your bodies together and buried his face in your shoulder. The scent of you brought life within him out again.

"Why didn't you come over earlier? Your injuries aren't fresh"

"I just— It was a long day. I didn't wanna be a— a burden" he shuddered as he spoke, and he held onto you so tight as though he were afraid of adrifting.

You sighed into his hair, traveling your palms over the scratches bleeding out red from his veins. "You're not a burden. That's something that'll never happen, I swear"

His eyes shone brightly from the lighting of your room. The shades of brown, deep and wild— like a foliage gathered from disrobed trees in a dry winter.

"Can I heal you now, please?" You said, staring right through his iris. He nodded and sat on the edge of your bed. You were quick to find the ointments, bandages and other required items to cure him.

When you came back, he had already stripped down to his boxers. Your eyes fell down to his crotch before quickly drifting up to his face to avoid any suspicions; however he'd caught it.

Peter sat up, eagerly waiting for you to soothe his ache. As you sat beside him and prepared to fix him, he found his hands softly running themselves over your face, pushing your strands away.

He watched intently as your eyes focused themselves on pulling the poisons and acrimony out from him. His eyes were adoring as you cleaned and cured and mended him meticulously.

He hissed as you pushed a towel deep into his cut, clearing out toxins from him. "Sorry" you mumbled apologetically.

Peter didn't answer you, he just stared at you with reverence. He'd found safety within your heart He wanted to pour himself into you. He wanted you.

"And we're done, bug boy" you smiled, removing the bloodied cloths from your bed and settling up further onto him.

His palm darted down to your face, cradling your cheeks and making you look straight up. "I can't tell you, how grateful I am to have you" Peter said in a low voice.

Inhaling sharply, you found yourself lost into counting the freckles speckled over his sculptured skin.

He deemed closer, nudging your nose with his as his eyes never left yours.

And then his lips crashed over yours. You drew a gasp as he kissed you. It was like he'd been twinged for years and you weren't a frailty to it— rather a potion of fortitude.

He was kissing you hard; passionately; affectionately, putting out whatever was in him into that kiss. You gripped him by his shoulders as he pulled you to sit astride him.

As you pulled away from his mouth for a moment, his eyes were questioning you silently. "I want this" you huffed in a quick breath, "I've always wanted this"

"I have too" he whispered, pulling you flush against himself. His fingers were on your hips, grinding you over his hardening length as he licked at your throat. "I'm sorry it took me so long to do it" His lips met yours again and your fingers were tangled into his hair.

He was quick to push you down on your bed, dragging you beneath himself. "Can I?" Peter asked, tugging at your shirt. You nodded and arched up to help him remove it.

His eyes darkened as he let out a groan as your bare chest was revealed to him, "God, you don't know how long I've waited" he mumbled against your skin, kissing along your breasts.

His hands palmed and teased your nipples as he kissed you. You whimpered as he soon wrapped his mouth around your taut nipple.

Swirling his tongue and sucking over the sensitive buds. The weight of him was bearing you down. His tongue flicked over your nipple and you let out a smothered moan.

Then he was kissing down your abdomen, biting and painting hues with mouth over your hips and thighs. One of his hand was still squeezing your tits as he pulled your panties down with the other. "Fuck" he spoke with a slight scratch in his voice, "You're absolutely perfect"

The coil of want grew tighter within you and you pulled him down to kiss you. His hips were aligned perfectly with yours and he began grinding him cock along your heat.

His fingers slowly reached down and rubbed your clit, dragging out your arousal and he teased you. "Peter— i" you moaned, bucking your hips up into his hand. He kept his hand pressed against your cunt and let your drag and move your hips.

"You're so wet angel" the brunette grunted, sliding the pads of his fingers through your folds as he kissed you hard.

Finally, he removed his hands from you and pushed his boxers down. The lenght of him was hard and throbbing to feel you clench and squirm around him.

"Wait— I" you paused him for a second, he froze as he looked down at you, "Do you think you can do it? You were hurt. We can stop— i— if you're too tired"

At your words, his eyes crinkled and he kissed your nose, resting his forehead against yours. "I am not tired nor do I want to stop. Having superpowers has it perks I suppose"

You chuckled lightly, "Right, you're Spiderman"

Peter laughed and kissed you again. His hands were delicate as he pushed you onto your side, he ran his hands over your body, parting your thighs to align himself.

"Do you want to?" he questioned.

"Yes, I do"

His anticipation ceased an end then. His positioned himself and teased and tormented your avidity. The head of him tapped against your clit and you whimpered, "Peter, please"

He impaled his cock deep inside you. Your cry was loud and wanting, he began panting near your shoulder as he moved. His hands were holding your body flush against his and he thrust in you.

"You feel so fucking good—" he groaned, stroking himself deeper and harder.

You were like a fantasy that he'd barely even had the privilege to envisage about— but now it was like a fever dream that had come true through the millions of prayers he'd pondered.

Peter snaked an arm over your chest, and his other hand hoisted your thigh up as he pounded harder. His breaths were ragged and needy, building up a twine of delectation in you.

He wasn't too slow or too fast. His pace was as rhythmic as you needed it to be.

"Oh my— Peter. More!" you gripped his arm tightly as he moved faster, his lips pressed over your shoulder.

"I'm already fucking you. What else do you need angel?" he mocked, rolling his hips in a way that had you shaking.

"I want you to— to, play with my—"

"Go on..." he grunted, "..play with your?"

"My— my pussy" you whimpered and pushed yourself back into him. The sounds and the sight were obscene; erotic. The bed creaked as he drove his length into your cunt over and over.

Peter's fingers found themselves between your thighs, drawing tight and rough circles over your clit. Your eyes shut close as your climax was right near the end.

He hissed and his mouth fell open as he slammed in. "Cum for me, I'm almost there, fuck—" Your walls tightened and then— white flashed over your eyes.

Stars bloomed over your lids as you come. You shook and sobbed as he pounded through your orgasm.

Peter pulled out abruptly, moaning as he came and painted you in white. Your stomach smeared with his cum. You both panted as you came down from euphoria.

As you layed there— reality came through again, like a nail through your head.

You'd just had sex with your so called, 'best friend' after healing him.

Gulping you turned your head to him, staring into his calm relaxed brown eyes. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine yeah" you said flatly, still flabbergasted from recent events, Peter however seemed to have no remorse or guilt or regret in him.

Rather his eyes were obsessive and adoring and devoted.

"What is it?" He asked, running his index finger over your nose as he kissed your cheek.

"I— you don't think that, that, this is weird?"

"No, I'm happy we did it, aren't you?"

"I am"

He smiled and pulled the coverlet over the two of you, tracing his hands over the freckles and beauty marks and scars of your exposed skin.

"I think I want to make you my girlfriend" he said, "Do it then."

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Reblog to make the person u reblogged this from comfy n cozy

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#the chaotic energy of this scene

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We actually have been trying to sell your info but it's all shit and no one wants it

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no more ‘specks of green’ or ‘flakes of blue and gold’ just brown eyes, deep dark brown eyes like soil, brown eyes that are so completely dark you can’t differentiate between the pupil, brown eyes that are just brown and only brown and are not forced to ‘be prettier’

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The Academy really said

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compilation of texts my mom has sent me when my cat is wailing outside my room and i haven’t opened the door for her yet

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coworker!draco x reader fucking during lunch breaks 😵😵😵😵

imagine just like sharing an office with him and all, and you have to go your shared restroom and there you find him wanking off with your name settled on his lips 😩😩 like, he's just way too much attracted to wait and go home to 'relieve' himself so he just end up jerking off in the bathroom, and then you come in.

it would awkward for like two seconds and then you're both fucking each other hard and cutting off all the tension <333