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I was wondering if you could do a Tom x reader with #22 from the Autumn prompts list?

Stay: Tom Holland x Reader

Description: 1.6k wc, Fall prompt of “It’s storming too hard to go home, why don’t you spend the night?” With Tom holland and his gf Reader

Warnings: none just fluff

Sorry it took so long, still in grieving. But hopefully you like it!

Fall prompts are still open!

This prompt generated by @innytoes

“Love,” Tom whined, “it’s storming too hard to go home, why don’t you spend the night?” .

Y/n blushed, tightening her arms around her boyfriend as they stood at his door.

“Tommm” she sighed, knowing she couldn’t as he had work in the morning.

“Baby, I’m serious. Stay with me… please?" He asked leaning back to look into her eyes.

She bit her lip, desperately wanting to cave but she knew how important the meeting he had tomorrow was.

Tom sensed her hesitation and kissed her forehead, “If you’re not ready us to share a bed, I can sleep on the couch tonight; just please don’t go out in this weather”.

She grinned at him, not bothering to point out he might be overreacting a bit with regards to the severity of the weather.

“T, handsome, I trust you. But don’t you have to meet with some Sony execs early tomorrow?” She asked, gazing into his chestnut colored eyes.

Tom hummed, pulling her closer to him again, “You’re all I care about right now.”

Y/n giggled softly, “I refuse to be the reason there’s no more Spider-Man”.

Tom laughed, “you won’t. I promise to tell them I’ll swing by later than planned”.

“Swing?” Y/n shook her head, smirking, “that was such an intentional pun”.

Tom bit his bottom lip and shrugged his shoulders, “maybe”.

“You’re lucky you’re cute” she teased, kissing his cheek.

“Does that mean you’ll stay?” He asked, his cheeks a faint red.

She nodded, making him smile widely before picking her up and running back to the living room.

Tom had turned on the fireplace before going to the kitchen to find something for them to eat.

After he started warming a pot of water on the stove, he stepped out to see if y/n had settled back in.

He found himself smiling from ear to ear as he leaned against the doorframe, watching as she silently read a book in front of the fireplace.

She’d dug out a pair of slippers that were far too big for her feet but looked adorable as she sat there with one of his hoodies on, and a blanket over her lap.

“Tommy, you're staring!" Y/n gushed, looking up from her book as she sensed his presence.

Tom blushed a dark crimson and smiled, walking to her.

“I could watch you be you all day. I like seeing you happy, love” he said, kneeling down to give her a side hug and a kiss to the top of her head.

Once they finished dinner, Tom lead her to the sectional, letting her sit against him.

He had his arms around her as she pressed play on the movie they’d chosen for the night.

They were nearly halfway through the movie when y/n kept squirming.

“What ‘re you doin’ love?” Tom whispered into her ear, tightening his grip on her waist.

“I don’t want your leg to fall asleep” She laughed, knowing she’d been leaning against his left leg more than the other.

Tom shook his head, “you’re fine love, just watch the movie”.

She complied, but it didn’t last more than a few minutes.

“Y/n, stop moving!” He sighed, tapping her hips with his fingers.

“Why? Your-“ She began, tilting her head to look up and behind at him.

“‘Cause it’s cold and you feel amazing in my arms" Tom admitted, pulling her closer to his chest.

“Because I’m warm?” She asked, lifting her arms to show the baggy sleeves of his hoodie.

“ Sure” Tom murmured, too focused on the current moment to try and explain.

He loved having her in his flat, in his arms, knowing she was his and he was her’s.

Neither one seemed to notice when the movie ended, too wrapped up in each other.

They were cuddled on the couch, facing each other, legs and arms a tangled mess.

Tom nuzzled his nose against y/n’s nose, making her giggle tenderly.

“Bloody hell love, your hands are freezing!” Tom gasped dramatically as y/n grabbed his hand.

She frowned and pulled her hand back, not having noticed.

He shook his head, “no, let me see”.

He gently grabbed her hands in his, holding it and his warmth transfer to her’s.

—-

“Hey T…?” Y/n asked suddenly, looking up from her book as she sat on the bench next to his large window.

Tom looked up from his phone, having just sent his full email to the Sony team, “hmm?”

“So… I know it defeats the purpose of me staying and all... But can we go outside?” She questioned, staring out the rain covered window.

“You want to go into the pouring rain?” He chuckled kindly, grinning over at her.

“Kinda… yeah. Can we go dance in the rain Tommy?” She elaborated, facing him as she hid her face behind his hoodie sleeve.

Tom couldn’t form a response, his mind only thinking about how precious this moment was, how precious she was.

She laughs, “I know it’s cheesy but I’ve always wanted to d-“.

“Yes” Tom cuts her off, his voice making it sound like it was the only valid response; which to him, it was.

As her eyes light up with excitement, Tom grins widely.

He swiftly makes his way to her, helping her stand and leading her to where her real shoes were.

Tom watches as she giggled loudly, turning around just as they stepped outside.

He smiles at her, making her grab his hand and run onto the empty street.

Y/n closes her eyes as Tom spins her around, never letting go of her hand.

Suddenly, y/n raced down the street, Tom hurriedly following as to not have to drop her hand as he ran with her.

He’d only done so because he selfishly wanted her near him.

But it turned it to be a good thing as after one of her adorably childish bursts of energy, she nearly slipped.

Tom’s grip on her hand kept her fairly steady and on her feet.

She gasped, letting herself crash into his chest to stabilize her balance.

“It's okay, you're okay, I've got you" Tom promised, raising her arm to encourage her to keep spinning.

As the couple dried off before the bathroom mirror, y/n laughed loudly.

“Oh god I look like a drowned rat” She blushed, squeezing water from her hair futilely, “but that was so fun, thank you!”

“Love, I’d do anything for you,” Tom winked, taking the towel from her hand, “and for the record, I think you’re still just as beautiful right now”.

Y/n grinned and looked down at the ground shyly.

“Love, why don’t you take a warm shower while I make us some tea?” Tom offered, noting the goosebumps on her arms.

“What about you?” She asked, furrowing her eyes at him in concern he’d forgotten to ensure his own comfort.

“My hair dries much faster my love” Tom joked, “I’m of course going to change, but then I can start the tea”.

She smiled and agreed, only half listening to his instructions for the shower as she blissfully relaxed and spaced out.

When she finished showering and blow drying her hair, she finally looked towards the counter corner by the door and saw Tom had set out one of his knitted fall sweaters, a pair of his softest boxers, a pair of sweatpants, and some soft socks for her.

Y/n smiled until it hurt, she really had the sweetest boyfriend in the world.

As she entered the living room, now dressed in his cozy clothes he’d lent her, she took in what he’d done.

Evidently while she showed, he not only took it upon himself to make the tea he mentioned; which was sitting in her favorite mug of his on the coffee table.

He’d also brought several cozy and pouffy blankets over to the sectional along with larger pillows than the accent ones previously there.

He’d also started the fireplace again, the flat now nice and toasty.

“‘Ey love, how was the shower, did the faucet-“ Tom began to ask, hearing her soft footsteps on his hardwood floor.

But he paused as he took notice of her appearance and blushed, rubbing his neck, “You look so gorgeous”.

“T, stop “ She murmured, walking to him and pulling him in for a hug, “thank you. For the clothes and all of today”.

Tom hummed as he kissed the top of her head, “thank you for staying. You should do it more”.

“Shall we head to bed, love?" Tom asked, breaking the comfortable silence around them as they held each other in front off the fireplace.

Y/n pouted, a small yawn breaking through as she spoke, “but we’d have to actually get up then”.

Tom winked, “I’ll carry you princess”.

Y/n blushed deeply, burying her face into his chest.

“But, I’m comfy” She whispered, barely audible with her face pressed against his upper body.

“You want to sleep out here?” He asked, playing with her hand.

“Yes, if you’ll stay with me” she requested.

“Well duh, I’m not leaving you out here alone” He teased, “let me just turn the fireplace off”.

Tom traced y/n’s features as she began to drift off to sleep.

She let her eyes close as she rested her head on him, cuddled up under multiple blankets.

“Sweet dreams love” he whispered into her hair, his own eyes getting heavy.

“Maybe I will stay more often” She sighed before letting herself sleep.

Tom grinned, the smile staying on his face as he too fell asleep.

Tom Holland Navigation/Masterlist (all TH & TH character works)

Main Navigation/Masterlist (all my works including TH and his characters)

Tom Holland Tag List (to be added please comment here): @galaxyholland @bigbirdstwins @mcushvft @fishingirl12 @raajali3 @justapurrcat @natswifey @directioner5life @ell0ra-br3kk3r

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A little sneak peak from my upcoming gymbuddy!Tom holland x reader smut/fanfic:

After some leg presses my legs got sore and I dropped myself next to the machine. Just when I closed my eyes from exhaustion, I felt a tug on my waist belt. I opened my eyes as Tom grabbed me by my belt and lifted me back on the machine like it was nothing. "5 more, come on you can't just give up like that y/n, you know better." He said with a straight face. Fucking hell... I felt heat race to my cheeks after what he just did and said to me. "W-what?" I stuttered, too suddenly aroused to get my head straight. "5 more." He again said with a straight face and a little frustration behind his voice.

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what the HELL

Once Upon A Scream (Witch! Tom Holland x Enemy Witch! Reader) - Chapter One

PROLOGUE

Warnings: Filth in upcoming chapters, mentions of blood and violence, mentions of satanic stuff? Don’t know if thats a warning or not…

Word Count: 4029

Summary: As adversary witches, you and Tom spent your entire lives despising the other and their family’s magic. But when forces pull you together, a curse upon Tom’s town is unleashed and now you and Tom must work together in order to reverse the hex. If only you can keep the lust for one another from bubbling up.

A/N: Praying to the tumblr gods that this series doesn’t flop so please share it as much as you can! But happy fall! I’m so excited for this one because I am OBSESSED with witchy books and really want to do one for Tommo so  I hope you guys like it? This one has one of my favorite enemies to lovers tropes that I have written and it’s been so much fun so far. Big thanks to @osterfield-holland-andcompany @lauras-collection for helping me out with this one and the moodboard! Pleaseeeee interact with it! THANK YOU AND ILY – xxx N

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The Night We Met

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: Love hurts. 

Word Count: 2,122

A/N: I was going to link the video that inspired this, but Tumblr is dumb and I know it wouldn’t show up in search if I did. But if you haven’t seen the video of The Night We Met set to an hour of driving in the rain, then you are missing out. I highly recommend crying to it.  

“It’s been nice seeing you again,” Tom blurted out as he walked beside her. He was maybe two inches apart from her, arms brushing together every so often, but he had never felt so far away. 

“Yeah, believe it or not, I missed you,” she smiled back, blushing, but refusing to make eye contact. 

This part was always weird. After a break up, two people usually go their separate ways. They take what’s theirs and they depart for the rest of their lives, but y/n had something about her. Each person who had broken up with her had come running back each time, and she was always weak enough to let them back in. Her heart was full of love and admiration that she just wanted to give out, but the people coming back in were never deserving of it, though her heart didn’t discriminate. 

This time was different. She had been with Tom longer than she had ever been with anyone else, although they had broken up once before. He had called it off, but when he asked for her back, she accepted. There had never been any apologies for anything he had said or done, just one simple question, and she had stupidly said yes. So it was only right that a year later he would call it off again. 

It had been 4 months since they had parted, when he called her and said they needed to talk. They met up at what used to be her favorite coffee shop, but was now tarnished by sour memories she had made with him. 

They talked for hours, discussing things they had both done that hadn’t been the best for their relationship. It was the only time she had ever heard Tom sincerely apologize to her. 

After that day, they began to see each other more, going to movies and parties with friends. But this was the first time they had been alone. They had been walking down the abandoned downtown street for what felt like an hour, but was probably only 15 minutes. She could tell he wanted to say something, and she prayed it wasn’t what she thought it was. 

In the few months they had spent apart, she realized that all he had done was wrong. All the times he flirted with other girls in front of her, claiming it was platonic so he was allowed. All the times he had lied to her face, just for her to find out later from someone else that nothing he had said was true. All of the times he had made her feel bad for doing something that he would refuse to apologize for each time he did the same. She knew he wasn’t right for her anymore. 

She had to remind herself of this every time his hand accidentally brushed hers, or each time she caught him smiling as he looked at her out of the corner of his eye. 

He hurt you, y/n. Stop. 

But she couldn’t help the sparks that flew when she was around him. He was the first person she had truly fallen in love with, so of course that hadn’t just magically gone away in a few months. 

“I-Uhm-I actually kinda wanted to talk to you about something.”

Her heart stopped, but she kept walking. She did her best to keep her breathing calm as she looked at him, asking him to continue. 

“I know, I fucked up. I never should have called off things between us.”

His eyes were hopeful, a look that reminded her of the day he first asked her to be his. They had been talking for only a month when he took her out for frozen yogurt. She had chuckled at his choice of venue, but she could never turn down a good fro-yo. As they sat there, she had noticed he was incredibly quiet, which was uncharacteristic of the brit. They were sitting on the same side of the booth, so she took his hand in hers in an attempt to calm whatever nerves were getting to him. His palm was sweaty and she swore she could feel his heartbeat in each fingertip. 

“Are you ok, Tom?” 

“Uh, yeah, I just, I need to ask you something.”

“Ok, you can ask me anything.” 

She was already smiling before he had asked, but somehow the smile spread even further on her face as she said yes. She laid her head on his shoulder for the first time, each of their yogurts melting as they cuddled on the bench seat. 

She tried to push back that memory as she walked beside him on the cold city street. She didn’t reply to his statement though. What was she supposed to say? 4 months ago, she would have agreed that he fucked up. She would have screamed that from the rooftops. She would have agreed that he never should have ended things. But presently, she wasn’t so sure. She had started to believe that maybe things were better left in the past between them. 

“Do you still hate me?” he asked, nervous from her silence. 

“Of course not, Tommy. You know I love you,” she said, but the sincerity in her voice was mixed with exhaustion. 

“You do?”

“Of course,” she chuckled, “Can’t really stop loving someone once you start. I don’t think so at least. You can get mad at them and say you hate them all you want, but I don’t think you can ever really stop loving them. Not if you truly loved them to begin with.”

“Y/n?”

“Mhm?”

He grabbed her hand and stopped her underneath a street light. She could see his features more prominently now, and it confused every emotion within her. His brows were furrowed and she knew what was coming next, but in this moment, she let herself just soak him in. Just feel what she knew she shouldn’t. 

She was right. She could never stop loving him. Every time she looked into his hazel eyes, she found herself daydreaming. She wanted to reach out and hold his face, or run her fingers through his curly hair again. She couldn’t allow herself to do those things, but the urge would never leave because that was how she had always shown her love for him. 

His hands were still engulfing hers as he took a deep breath, palms just as sweaty as the first time. 

“I need you,” was all he could get out before a small tear slipped from the corner of his eye. 

And how was she supposed to respond to that? Every instinct within her told her to reach out and wipe the tear. To pull him in and kiss him. To tell him that she could be his and everything would be ok. But what would that cost her? Because the last time, it had cost her her happiness. 

They had broken up for two months and he had moved on. Not really, he had never had the intention of being with the other girl, but he sure made it seem like he did. The constant flirting and pictures he took had made y/n believe he had moved on quickly. He had done it all for show, to prove to himself that he could live without y/n, but it only proved more that he couldn’t love anyone as much as he loved her. And although those emotions were what had scared him off in the first place, they were the same thing that had him crawling back.

Even after she had taken him back, that girl was everywhere. Commenting on his pictures, texting him all the time, she even started following y/n on social media (only liking the photos that had Tom of course). It drove y/n insane, but every time she brought it up with Tom, he would just get upset and ask her to get over it. 

Of course, he did it out of guilt. He could never tell her that he was trying to replace her when he had started talking to the other girl. But y/n already knew that, so each time he lied, she felt more and more betrayed. She kept on loving him, but each passing day made her feel more self pity. 

“Tom, please don’t do this,” she squeaked out. She couldn’t bare to look at him anymore, so she switched her gaze to the ground to avoid the sight of his tears, her hand never moving from his grasp. 

“Do what?”

“This. I can’t do this again.”

“Y/n… Please.”

“Tom, you have no idea how hard it is to say this, but I can’t.”

“Why not?”

That was what really broke her. Had he forgotten about all the times he had made her cry? All the times he made her second guess herself? All the times he made her feel inferior to other girls? She knew that she had talked to him about each of those things, that he knew what he had done to her, so why was he suddenly questioning why she couldn’t be with him? 

She jerked her hand away from his, looking up to meet his gaze. She was met with the sight of tears streaming down his face, and a dumbfounded look plastered over his once hopeful features, which made the next part harder than it needed to be. 

“Tom, I don’t know how to get this through your head, but you hurt me. You’ve hurt me too many times, over and over again. And I have forgiven you each time, I still forgive you, but being with you will just subject me to that again… I don’t think I can take another hit from you.”

“B-but, I promise, I’ll try harder this time.”

“The fact that there’s room for you put up more effort is the problem, Tommy. I gave you my all and I was met with the minimum amount of effort from you. And sure, if we got back together, I’m sure it would be great at first. You’d take me on dates and we would cuddle all the time. You would give me undivided attention. But how long would that last? A week? Then you’d get bored of it. Of me. And it would just go back to being us. You would do something, I would overthink it, and you would get upset with me, which would make me upset with you. That cycle would just repeat until we break up again. And then maybe we would just get back together and start it again. I’m just being realistic here, and the reality of it is that we aren’t healthy. We aren’t good together.”

Tears were streaming down her face now, but her words were as calm as she could manage. He stared at her in disbelief as she spoke. If she were speaking to anyone else, he would have been proud of her. He would have loved that she was taking a stand for herself. But not with him. He wanted her too badly. 

“What can I do? What can I say to change your mind? I’ll do anything. I promise,” he sobbed. 

She took a deep breath, looked into his eyes, and said,”You can’t.”

She let down her wall for one last second as she reached up and put her hand against his cheek, wiping a few tears away as she maintained eye contact. 

“I can’t do this anymore, Tom. I can’t. And if you can’t just be friends with me, this needs to be the end.”

“Y/n…”

“Tom. Please. Stop making this harder for me.”

A sob tore through his lungs as he looked at her. The love of his life was standing right in front of him, he wanted to reach out and hold her, but he wasn’t hers anymore. So he couldn’t. There was no way he could be satisfied with being just friends. He could pretend, but he knew that would cause him just as much pain. 

He couldn’t think of anything to say, but she already knew what he was thinking. She had the answer to the question she never really asked. Her hand fell from his face and she looked towards the asphalt again. 

“Goodbye, Tom.”

No more tears were able to come to her. She felt numb in that moment, as she turned away and left him crying. He fell to the concrete as he watched her walk to her car. He hoped that she would turn around. Hoped she would come running back to him with open arms. But she didn’t. 

He was forced to watch as her headlights drove away, disappearing into the night, along with his hope of ever holding her again. 

Tags: @johnsambrosemcclaren @smilexcaptainx @castawayparker @rose-marys-love @chonisberonica @5sos-wdw @chloe-geoghegan1 @spiderlingsweb @baconlover001

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all I want in life is to straddle Henry’s glorious thighs and kiss, lick and bite every inch of his beautiful skin… I also really wanna kiss his lil butt chin 🥹 *sigh*

Love Bite

Summary: It was just a little love bite. Who knew Henry could be so dramatic?

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Reader

Warnings: RPF, mostly fluff with a hint of sexual undertones, kissing, licking, biting, minor cursing at the end, major pouting from Henry, overall playfulness and cute couple moment- Let me know if I forgot anything!

Word Count: 500ish

Any typos are my own!

A/N: Yesss, I want to nibble on him so bad 🤭

******

Henry chuckled as you peppered kisses all over his face. No part of him was safe from your lips. His cheeks, nose, forehead, even his ears. All of him got smooches from you.

And he was loving the affection. Leaning his head back, he sighed as you left sweet little kisses over his chest and neck. You licked at his Adam’s Apple, making him hum. His hands skated their way up your sides, sneaking a feel of your curves as you straddled him.

“You’re awfully loveable.” He observed, his tongue coming out to lick his bottom lip.

“Don’t you like my kisses? I can stop.” You tilted your head, pulling away with a smirk. His eyes snapped open. 

“No! No. I mean it’s nice. Don’t stop.” He grinned up at you, putting on the good boy act so you would continue.

You raised a brow playfully before you dived back into his neck. Henry moaned as you left love bites up his throat. Your tongue wandered along his jawline before you tenderly kissed the cleft in his chin. 

You bite your lip. What a cute feature of his. You loved his butt chin. It made you want to…

“Ow! Hey!” Henry yelped when you dug your teeth into his chin.

You pulled back, snickering when you saw his wide eyes. He was flabbergasted as he held his hand to his face. His expression was enough to make you giggle uncontrollably.

“You bit me!” He gasped, watching you laugh at his ‘pain’.

“I’m sorry! I couldn’t resist.” You chuckled. 

“That hurt. You actually bit me.” He huffed as he lowered his hand. A tiny indent of your teeth marked his flesh.

“I didn’t bite you that hard. Love bites like all the rest.” You rolled your eyes with a smile, as he pouted up at you. “I’m sorry.” 

Your grumpy puppy was not having it. 

“That was not a love bite.” He crossed his arms, and you pressed your lips into a thin line to stop your grin. He was really trying to sell it, huh?

You played along, setting your hands on his arms. “Henry, baby? I’m sorry.”

He didn’t uncross them, still staring at you with those shining baby blues. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry, honey.” You cooed, knowing exactly what he was trying to get with those puppy dog eyes. 

Grabbing his cheeks, you started smothering him with your kisses again. His pout lifted into a grin immediately after getting what he wanted. His hands came back to rest on your hips as you gave his chin extra attention.

“I’m so, so sorry, my darling.” You gushed as Henry snickered, his eyes crinkling happily.

“You’re not sorry.” He smirked, squeezing your rear end.

You hummed, working on sucking a mark onto his collarbone. “You’re right. I’m not. I’d bite that butt chin again, given another chance.”

“You’ve gone feral.” Henry grunted, shaking his head as you chomped your teeth. He smacked your bum with his hand, making you squeal and start giggling again. He smiled back at you.

“Keep biting me and see what happens. Maybe I’ll leave my teeth marks behind on your cute arse.”

****** Taglist: @sunshine-with-daisy @leigh70 @islacharlotte @lysarria @kebabgirl67 @pandaxnienke @identity2212 @fvckinghenrycavill

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witch!reader is probably my favorite trope so add tom to that and you have my heart

check all of their series, btw, this blog has everything

Once Upon A Scream (Witch! Tom Holland x Witch! Reader) - Prologue

Warnings: Filth in upcoming chapters, mentions of blood and violence, mentions of satanic stuff? Don’t know if thats a warning or not…

Word Count: 4029

Summary: As adversary witches, you and Tom spent your entire lives despising the other and their family’s magic. But when forces pull you together, a curse upon Tom’s town is unleashed and

A/N: Praying to the tumblr gods that this series doesn’t flop so please share it as much as you can! But happy fall! I’m so excited for this one because I am OBSESSED with witchy books and really want to do one for Tommo so  I hope you guys like it? This one has one of my favorite enemies to lovers tropes that I have written and it’s been so much fun so far. Big thanks to @osterfield-holland-andcompany @lauras-collection for helping me out with this one and the moodboard! Pleaseeeee interact with it! THANK YOU AND ILY – xxx N

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PETER PARKER M.LIST

main masterlist || blurb masterlist nsfw (18+)=**

↳ SERIES

➼ the set up [social media au] || ongoing

peter is still in love with his ex girlfriend (and your roommate) michelle, and you've caught yourself stealing glances at his best friend, harry osborn, a little too often. when pictures of mj and harry kissing is leaked on the internet, you and peter (despite the academic rivalry) enter into an agreement that benefits you both with only one goal: to set each other up.

ONE-SHOTS ↳ HIGH-SCHOOL!PETER PARKER

➼ close to my heart [2.6k]

physical affection has been a part of your friendship since it began years ago, it was only a matter of time peter questioned why he was the only one on the receiving end of your hugs and kisses.

➼ old scarf [3.8k]

peter parker is all alone at christmas...but spider-man is with you, sharing chocolate cookies under a broken streetlight.

↳ COLLEGE!PETER PARKER

➼ always waiting (for you to come home) [3.4k]

you knock on peter's window after a rough night of patrolling.

➼ the morning sun [1.5k]

dialogue prompt: “sometimes... i just can’t stop kissing your stupid face.”

➼ pretty boy [4.3k]

you unexpectedly run into peter’s ex while you’re out on a date.

➼ midnight love [2k]

prompt: your partner is sick and decides to spend the night on the couch, but you're used to sleeping next to each other so...you spend the night there as well.

➼ pretty in pink** [2k]

you try to convince peter to go to victoria secret with you.

➼ drunk on you [1.7k]

peter parker is drunk, the bottle in his hand trying its best to make him forget all about you while you were out on a date… with someone that wasn’t him. peter didn’t want to think about you, and yet he ends up dialing your number. he can’t get you out of his head (or his heart)

↳ DAD!PETER PARKER

➼ in your arms [4k]

you are sick and take a day off to get better, at least...that's what you think until your husband, peter gets back home.

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I really enjoy your blog x

thank you soso much🤧💗

i am trying to be a better supportive blog for those who create the content we all love (like ✨your✨ content❤)

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SOMEONE HAS TO BRING THIS FANDOM BACK TO LIFE PLEAAAASE

Just a Kiss - Werewolf!Shawn: Chapter Three

(A/N: Hey hey lovely people! Hope you enjoy this chapter! It’s definitely gotten the ball rolling! You definitely should re-read chapter two if you don’t remember much, because I draw on it a lot. Two more chapters in this mini-series! Let me know what you think! xx)

- Prologue - Part One - Part Two - 

⚠️ Trigger Warning ⚠️: Sexual Tension, Death, Blood, Language

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can you also repost the blurb where peter doesn't let short!reader kiss him?

“baby,” you plead for the hundredth time in the past hour. you curl your fingers in the material of his thin shirt by the collar, while struggling to maintain your balance as you stand on your tip toes. but your efforts don't stop your from faltering. “c'mon.”

he arches a brow at you, he brings his hands up to cradle your face, and he brushes the tip of his thumb over your lips, brows furrow as he coos down at you with fake sympathy. “yeah, y/n? something the matter?”

“oh my god, pete! c'mon...you can't just...”

“mhmm? i'm listening.”

“i didn't say it was a bad thing.”

“i don't know what you're talking about, sweetheart.”

ah, shit. if it isn't the consequences of your own actions.

peter parker refuses to kiss you.

for the first time in seven months of dating, he refuses to kiss you.

and you're the only one to blame.

it was a peaceful sunday afternoon at peter's apartment before you went ahead and ruined it. with may gone for work, he offered to cook you pancakes, and you happily trailed after him like a puppy to the kitchen where he got started with the preparations.

and while chatting away about anything and everything, you happen to make a..... comment about his height. and regretted it immediately. he is a little tini-tiny bit sensitive about his height. and much to your surprise (gasp) he didn't appreciate your humour (or your apology kisses).

the comment backfired to say the least.

because yes, peter is short. but you? you are way shorter than peter. when you reached up to kiss the frown away, he shrugged you off. standing tall over you while you try to reach his lips. you were growing frustrated by the second, and he has the audacity to laugh at you.

“let me give you a kiss.” you try again, “baby. my super tall baby. c'mere.”

“why don't you come to me?”

bastard. you hate the way his eyes twinkled. you can't go to him, you're short.

“kissy.” you say. “let me give you a nice kissy on the lips.”

“i'll let you once you reach my lips.” he licks his lips, a playful smile on his face.

son of a bitch. he was having too much fun with this. with you.

“fuck you,” you hiss, retracting your hands away from him, you're pissed. but he just chuckles, wiping his hands on the apron he is wearing, looking down at you, grinning wide.

“what's wrong, short stuff?” he winks at you, “are you that desperate for a kiss?”

you glare at him, “no, i don't want to kiss you anymore.”

“aw,” he breathes out a laugh, trying to grab your hands but you pull away, “gave up so soon?” he pouts, “you didn't try hard enough y/n...maybe I would've let you.”

“fuck you, parker.”

“c'mon,” peter raises his hands up in mock defence, “i was only teasing, baby.”

“shut up,” you grumble. “i'm not letting you kiss me for a week if you keep that up--STOP IT! stop smirking at me, don't--do not look at me like that. you think i can't go a week without your kisses? just you wait--”

“okay, okay,” he reaches for your shoulders, “i'm sorry. I'll give you a kiss now, okay?”

you huff but let him cradle your face in his hands anyways.

he puckers his lips as he leans in. you angle your neck up, and close your eyes, waiting for his lips to brush over your own. you wait and wait, but...

he doesn't kiss you!

you open your eyes, only to find peter away from you, biting back his giggles.

“you're so.” you scoff, “you're so mean! don't expect me to kiss you again, you--you absolute fucking idiot. no--i'm leaving. and i am mad at you if you didn't already know, don't try to call me--or text me. i don't want to talk to you--or see you--or kiss your stupid face--”

you squeal--peter's large hands circle around your hips, holding the back of your thighs. he pulls up up to his level and your hands fly to his chest, clutching the material of the apron in between your fingers. “peter! what are you--”

you cling to him until he roughly sits you on the counter.

looking up at him, wide-eyed, you watch him lick his lips, twitching into a smile when he catches your eye. he leans in, hand grabbing your thigh and pulling you closer until he's standing in between your parted legs, with a hand up your skirt and his swet lips ghosting over yours.

he caressing the skin of your neck with the back of his hand, the blunt nails scraping against the bare flesh of your skin. he sniffs, pressing his forehead against yours, the pieces of curls ticking the crown of your head. your gaze flickers down to his lips and he lets a breathy laugh slip. “isn't this what you wanted?”

biting back a snarky comment, you nod, you really do want this. you want to kiss him. peter's pupils dilate, and the roseate hues on the apples of his cheeks matches with indelible heat bubbling up under your skin.

peter grins.

he cups the back of your neck, leans in and finally (fucking finally) kissed you. your breath hitches, gasping into his mouth and he hums, kissing you, breathing you in, consuming all of you with just his lips until you're a mess of skin and bones with coherent thought long gone, melting away with the anger you had for him.

he pulls away, panting into your mouth but he manages a smile, “that good enough for you?”

you roughly grab him by the collar, “more,” and pull him in for another kiss.

[shawning-tomblr]

can you also repost the blurb where peter doesn't let short!reader kiss him?

“baby,” you plead for the hundredth time in the past hour. you curl your fingers in the material of his thin shirt by the collar, while struggling to maintain your balance as you stand on your tip toes. but your efforts don't stop your from faltering. “c'mon.”

he arches a brow at you, he brings his hands up to cradle your face, and he brushes the tip of his thumb over your lips, brows furrow as he coos down at you with fake sympathy. “yeah, y/n? something the matter?”

“oh my god, pete! c'mon...you can't just...”

“mhmm? i'm listening.”

“i didn't say it was a bad thing.”

“i don't know what you're talking about, sweetheart.”

ah, shit. if it isn't the consequences of your own actions.

peter parker refuses to kiss you.

for the first time in seven months of dating, he refuses to kiss you.

and you're the only one to blame.

it was a peaceful sunday afternoon at peter's apartment before you went ahead and ruined it. with may gone for work, he offered to cook you pancakes, and you happily trailed after him like a puppy to the kitchen where he got started with the preparations.

and while chatting away about anything and everything, you happen to make a..... comment about his height. and regretted it immediately. he is a little tini-tiny bit sensitive about his height. and much to your surprise (gasp) he didn't appreciate your humour (or your apology kisses).

the comment backfired to say the least.

because yes, peter is short. but you? you are way shorter than peter. when you reached up to kiss the frown away, he shrugged you off. standing tall over you while you try to reach his lips. you were growing frustrated by the second, and he has the audacity to laugh at you.

“let me give you a kiss.” you try again, “baby. my super tall baby. c'mere.”

“why don't you come to me?”

bastard. you hate the way his eyes twinkled. you can't go to him, you're short.

“kissy.” you say. “let me give you a nice kissy on the lips.”

“i'll let you once you reach my lips.” he licks his lips, a playful smile on his face.

son of a bitch. he was having too much fun with this. with you.

“fuck you,” you hiss, retracting your hands away from him, you're pissed. but he just chuckles, wiping his hands on the apron he is wearing, looking down at you, grinning wide.

“what's wrong, short stuff?” he winks at you, “are you that desperate for a kiss?”

you glare at him, “no, i don't want to kiss you anymore.”

“aw,” he breathes out a laugh, trying to grab your hands but you pull away, “gave up so soon?” he pouts, “you didn't try hard enough y/n...maybe I would've let you.”

“fuck you, parker.”

“c'mon,” peter raises his hands up in mock defence, “i was only teasing, baby.”

“shut up,” you grumble. “i'm not letting you kiss me for a week if you keep that up--STOP IT! stop smirking at me, don't--do not look at me like that. you think i can't go a week without your kisses? just you wait--”

“okay, okay,” he reaches for your shoulders, “i'm sorry. I'll give you a kiss now, okay?”

you huff but let him cradle your face in his hands anyways.

he puckers his lips as he leans in. you angle your neck up, and close your eyes, waiting for his lips to brush over your own. you wait and wait, but...

he doesn't kiss you!

you open your eyes, only to find peter away from you, biting back his giggles.

“you're so.” you scoff, “you're so mean! don't expect me to kiss you again, you--you absolute fucking idiot. no--i'm leaving. and i am mad at you if you didn't already know, don't try to call me--or text me. i don't want to talk to you--or see you--or kiss your stupid face--”

you squeal--peter's large hands circle around your hips, holding the back of your thighs. he pulls up up to his level and your hands fly to his chest, clutching the material of the apron in between your fingers. “peter! what are you--”

you cling to him until he roughly sits you on the counter.

looking up at him, wide-eyed, you watch him lick his lips, twitching into a smile when he catches your eye. he leans in, hand grabbing your thigh and pulling you closer until he's standing in between your parted legs, with a hand up your skirt and his swet lips ghosting over yours.

he caressing the skin of your neck with the back of his hand, the blunt nails scraping against the bare flesh of your skin. he sniffs, pressing his forehead against yours, the pieces of curls ticking the crown of your head. your gaze flickers down to his lips and he lets a breathy laugh slip. “isn't this what you wanted?”

biting back a snarky comment, you nod, you really do want this. you want to kiss him. peter's pupils dilate, and the roseate hues on the apples of his cheeks matches with indelible heat bubbling up under your skin.

peter grins.

he cups the back of your neck, leans in and finally (fucking finally) kissed you. your breath hitches, gasping into his mouth and he hums, kissing you, breathing you in, consuming all of you with just his lips until you're a mess of skin and bones with coherent thought long gone, melting away with the anger you had for him.

he pulls away, panting into your mouth but he manages a smile, “that good enough for you?”

you roughly grab him by the collar, “more,” and pull him in for another kiss.

[shawning-tomblr]

can you also repost the blurb where peter doesn't let short!reader kiss him?

“baby,” you plead for the hundredth time in the past hour. you curl your fingers in the material of his thin shirt by the collar, while struggling to maintain your balance as you stand on your tip toes. but your efforts don't stop your from faltering. “c'mon.”

he arches a brow at you, he brings his hands up to cradle your face, and he brushes the tip of his thumb over your lips, brows furrow as he coos down at you with fake sympathy. “yeah, y/n? something the matter?”

“oh my god, pete! c'mon...you can't just...”

“mhmm? i'm listening.”

“i didn't say it was a bad thing.”

“i don't know what you're talking about, sweetheart.”

ah, shit. if it isn't the consequences of your own actions.

peter parker refuses to kiss you.

for the first time in seven months of dating, he refuses to kiss you.

and you're the only one to blame.

it was a peaceful sunday afternoon at peter's apartment before you went ahead and ruined it. with may gone for work, he offered to cook you pancakes, and you happily trailed after him like a puppy to the kitchen where he got started with the preparations.

and while chatting away about anything and everything, you happen to make a..... comment about his height. and regretted it immediately. he is a little tini-tiny bit sensitive about his height. and much to your surprise (gasp) he didn't appreciate your humour (or your apology kisses).

the comment backfired to say the least.

because yes, peter is short. but you? you are way shorter than peter. when you reached up to kiss the frown away, he shrugged you off. standing tall over you while you try to reach his lips. you were growing frustrated by the second, and he has the audacity to laugh at you.

“let me give you a kiss.” you try again, “baby. my super tall baby. c'mere.”

“why don't you come to me?”

bastard. you hate the way his eyes twinkled. you can't go to him, you're short.

“kissy.” you say. “let me give you a nice kissy on the lips.”

“i'll let you once you reach my lips.” he licks his lips, a playful smile on his face.

son of a bitch. he was having too much fun with this. with you.

“fuck you,” you hiss, retracting your hands away from him, you're pissed. but he just chuckles, wiping his hands on the apron he is wearing, looking down at you, grinning wide.

“what's wrong, short stuff?” he winks at you, “are you that desperate for a kiss?”

you glare at him, “no, i don't want to kiss you anymore.”

“aw,” he breathes out a laugh, trying to grab your hands but you pull away, “gave up so soon?” he pouts, “you didn't try hard enough y/n...maybe I would've let you.”

“fuck you, parker.”

“c'mon,” peter raises his hands up in mock defence, “i was only teasing, baby.”

“shut up,” you grumble. “i'm not letting you kiss me for a week if you keep that up--STOP IT! stop smirking at me, don't--do not look at me like that. you think i can't go a week without your kisses? just you wait--”

“okay, okay,” he reaches for your shoulders, “i'm sorry. I'll give you a kiss now, okay?”

you huff but let him cradle your face in his hands anyways.

he puckers his lips as he leans in. you angle your neck up, and close your eyes, waiting for his lips to brush over your own. you wait and wait, but...

he doesn't kiss you!

you open your eyes, only to find peter away from you, biting back his giggles.

“you're so.” you scoff, “you're so mean! don't expect me to kiss you again, you--you absolute fucking idiot. no--i'm leaving. and i am mad at you if you didn't already know, don't try to call me--or text me. i don't want to talk to you--or see you--or kiss your stupid face--”

you squeal--peter's large hands circle around your hips, holding the back of your thighs. he pulls up up to his level and your hands fly to his chest, clutching the material of the apron in between your fingers. “peter! what are you--”

you cling to him until he roughly sits you on the counter.

looking up at him, wide-eyed, you watch him lick his lips, twitching into a smile when he catches your eye. he leans in, hand grabbing your thigh and pulling you closer until he's standing in between your parted legs, with a hand up your skirt and his swet lips ghosting over yours.

he caressing the skin of your neck with the back of his hand, the blunt nails scraping against the bare flesh of your skin. he sniffs, pressing his forehead against yours, the pieces of curls ticking the crown of your head. your gaze flickers down to his lips and he lets a breathy laugh slip. “isn't this what you wanted?”

biting back a snarky comment, you nod, you really do want this. you want to kiss him. peter's pupils dilate, and the roseate hues on the apples of his cheeks matches with indelible heat bubbling up under your skin.

peter grins.

he cups the back of your neck, leans in and finally (fucking finally) kissed you. your breath hitches, gasping into his mouth and he hums, kissing you, breathing you in, consuming all of you with just his lips until you're a mess of skin and bones with coherent thought long gone, melting away with the anger you had for him.

he pulls away, panting into your mouth but he manages a smile, “that good enough for you?”

you roughly grab him by the collar, “more,” and pull him in for another kiss.

[shawning-tomblr]

I think this is the first ghost! content i've read, and I LOVED IT

totally want more of this

it's funny, scary, lovely and sad all in one. declare myself a fan of you

A Cold, Dead Heart to Love

Ghost!Tom Holland x Reader Summary: You realise that not all ghosts are out to haunt you. In fact, the one that visits you on Valentine’s Day turns out to be the sweetest person you ever met. Themes: fluff :) Words: 5.8k A/N: AYOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO MASTERLIST

At this point in your life, you can’t tell what’s sadder; being single over Valentine's Day or spending it alone in the hospital, being witness to the flashes of red or pink in whatever form it presents itself as it whizzes by your door, en route to patients neighbouring your own solitary confinement. Either way, the 14th of February is going to be a day you will want to get over with quickly and quietly. Your mental preparations for tomorrow are well underway, meticulously planning how you could persuade your nurses to keep your door closed throughout the day. Damn your infected kidney. Why did it have to act up now? Why, when you should be out living your life, does it trap you in here, the old hospital, far from friends and family? Your fingers fiddle with the wristband encircling your wrist. It’s yellow, just like Maisie’s in the room next to you. She was the one to explain to you that it meant long-term, that you were going to be here for a while until you recovered and were able to be discharged. After all, she’s been here for almost a month now with a spinal fracture, so you trust her. The monotonous tones of the ECG’s ring through the hallways, broken up every now and then by the drip of your IV bag, strapped to the back of your hand. You aren’t allowed to go anywhere without it; a failing kidney runs the risk of being seriously dehydrated, and even as you wheel it the 10 feet from your room to Maisie’s, the squeak of the stubborn wheels adds to the cacophony of sounds. You saunter straight into Maisie’s room, skipping past the pleasantries now that are well-acquainted with one another, and take a seat at the foot of her bed. Her eyes peer open, heavy with the slumber from her high dosage of painkillers. “Oh, it’s only you. I thought it was Nurse Sarah again. Don’t think I can take another one of her shitty ‘are you taking the piss’ jokes every time she empties my piss bags.” “Yeah, at least you can piss like a normal person. I feel like I’m pissing lava.” She chuckles. “You’re sitting there, telling the girl who can’t walk that I’m at an advantage because I’m able to piss normally? You’re hysterical.” “It’s all a matter of perspective, babe.” You smile back at her as she rolls her eyes. The conversation moves very quickly onwards. “How’ve you been sleeping? Gotten used to the bed yet?” She asks. “Terribly, but it’s not the bed that’s the issue. It’s the temperature. I think someone turns on the AC full blast every night. Every time the lights go out, I instantly get this chill, like a draft of wind going right through my body. No matter how many blankets I ask for, I can’t seem to keep any heat in my body at night.” “Well you do have an infected kidney, right? Aren’t symptoms usually fevers and chills--” “But it’s not that…it’s different. I don’t know how to explain it. Just that things get really strange at night.”

Maisie doesn’t respond, taking your word for it but she keeps her questioning gaze on you as you turn away from the conversation. You turn towards her TV at the far side of the room, a fat block of metal emitting a low static that’s reminiscent of the TV you used to have as a kid, the one that buzzed when you touched it. But it’s the little bundle of pink and red on the table beside it that catches your eye. “Oh? Has Valentine’s Day come early for you?” You wander over to the table, laden with a cuddly bear with a love heart stitched onto his tummy, surrounded by a bunch of roses and a pink box of chocolates.

“It’s from Michael. He came earlier this morning explaining he wouldn’t be able to make it in tomorrow because of work. Won’t make a bit of difference to me. I’ll still be here. Doing nothing.”

“Ditto. Except I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“With your humour? Colour me shocked.” For someone so doped up on painkillers, she’s still very capable of sarcasm. Which you fire right back at her.

“Isn’t your piss bag needing emptied?”

“You wish.”

“Yeah, well at least I can walk to the toilet to empty mine.”

“Ouch. You sure it’s not your cold, dead heart that’s keeping you up at night? Would make a lot more sense.”

“Maisie!” Suddenly, a shrill, ageing voice rings from the doorway, one that could only belong to Nurse Sarah who brings in Maisie’s lunch, a poxy juice box alongside a container of a deathly green soup. Fuck knows what’s in there.

You shoot Maisie a sly smirk while she tries her best to raise a scabbed middle finger towards you. “That wasn’t a very nice thing to say now was it?”

“We were only joking,” Maisie murmurs, nevertheless Sarah tuts. She acknowledges you standing in the corner and offers you a sympathetic smile while she begins unpackaging Maisie’s lunch much to her frustration, who is muttering something along the lines of ‘I can do it myself, I’m not completely paralysed’.

“Is there something keeping you up at night, pet?”

“Yeah, actually. Does someone turn on the AC at night? It’s always so cold in my room.”

“Don’t think so. We don’t usually tamper with the hospital AC unless it’s at the special request of a patient. But otherwise, the temperature pretty much stays the same.” You respond with a soft hum, baffled by your predicament. “Although…” Sarah’s uneasy voice catches your attention again, her movements slowing to a stop with a sudden realisation. “You’re next door, aren’t you? Room 106?”

“Yes…”

“Well, it probably doesn’t mean anything, and it’s just a bunch of silly stories but previous patients have always complained that the room feels haunted.”

“What?!” You and Maisie’s voices pipe up at the same time, laced with the same quizzical tone. There’s no doubt that this hospital is certainly on the older side of life with its retro technology and less-than-advanced equipment, less so than the newer super hospitals nearer the city centre. Clearly trapped in its old ways, its slightly off-white, sickly-pale yellow walls paint an uneasy feeling, so much so that you didn’t even think to consider paranormal activity being the reason for its slightly unnerving aura.

“I’ve worked in this hospital for 30 years now, and every single patient that has been assigned to that room has had an issue with it one way or another.”

“What kind of issues?”

Sarah sighs, staring downwards as she tries to remember the things she’s heard. Maisie throws you a cautious glance. “Issues like hearing voices at night, things moving of their own accord, unexplained disappearances, and like you say; colder temperatures. Staff used to hear the word ‘ghost’ come out so often that they actually gave it a name. Tom, they called it. You knew that whenever you heard that name that there were issues with Room 106. ‘Lights flashing? Tom’s having a party. The door jamming? Tom’s being a rascal again. Voices at night? Yeah, that’s Tom singing.’ It was more of a codename than anything.”

“That stuff actually happened?”

Sarah nods, but shrugs. “But again, they were all just silly stories. Best not to believe them. It’s an old hospital. There could be a number of explanations.”

“Why Tom?” Maisie asks, and something about the question has Sarah swallowing the lump in her throat. Whatever the answer is, she doesn’t look like she wants to disclose it so willingly as nervous eyes flicker at you momentarily.

“Tom was the name of a patient that died in that room years before I started working here. He was a young man. Died of unknown circumstances. It’s pretty sad actually.”

You heave a mocking laugh. “Great! Infected kidney, no Valentine’s date and now I’m being haunted by a dead patient. What next?”

“You better not die and haunt me,” Maisie mumbles with a mouth full of food, pointing her spoon at you and softly chuckling. “I’ve still got months of recovery and I can’t deal with your sorry ass hanging over me all the time.”

“No one is going to die and no one is going to haunt anyone,” in cuts Sarah, seemingly unamused by you and Maisie’s banter. You’re beginning to see why Maisie’s growing tiresome of her. It’s a hospital; people get sick, people die, it’s a place of bad news where humour like yours and Maisie’s is needed to lighten the mood. Not everything needs to be so doom and gloom.

And so, after Sarah mercilessly bursting your bubble, you decide to take your leave.

“Well sorry to cut the conversation short, but it looks like I now have a new best buddy to be entertaining in my own room. Should be fun, I’ve been told that I’m dead funny…”

“Jesus Christ.” Sarah groans, ignorant to you and Maisie giggling away like school children.

The remnants of your laughter follows you down the hallway until you reach your room where the icy chill delivers a haunting shiver to your bones and a scowl to your face. It’s freezing yet the thermostat on the wall reads 20°C. You check again, eyes finding nothing of an error or a warning sign on the monitor explaining how blatantly wrong it is because you are certain it’s dropped at least 10 degrees since you last left the room. You traipse into the room, grabbing one of the multiple blankets stacked upon your bed to wrap it around your shoulders. The soft click of the door shutting suddenly emits behind you and although a quiet, steady sound, it has your heart beating just a pace faster. Any evidence of the door stop that was wedged stiff under the gap of your door has clearly been eradicated, and now you’re suddenly questioning if there ever was one there.

You shake the thought from your head, turning towards where you thought you left your book. It should’ve been by your bedside but your eyes land on the empty white surface, void of your thick Harry Potter book you know you couldn’t have possibly misplaced. The disappearance of your book should’ve aroused some sort of doubt in you, making you question whether you did actually leave it there; you did have the tendency to leave things in careless places after all, but this time you are certain. That’s where it’s always been, that’s where it always goes.

Where the hell has it gone?

Echoes of Sarah’s words circle around in your mind. Another symptom has made its presence in the haunted Room 106 so it seems.

“Okay…” You mutter, eyes nervously roaming the open air of the room. You’re not sure what you’re looking for. You were skeptical at first, but Sarah’s tellings of Tom seem to plague your mind and paranoia has blinded you with irrational thinking. Are you actually being haunted right now? “I don’t want no funny business.” You cast your words out in no specific direction, spinning as you keep aware of your surroundings. “I won’t hurt you, you won’t hurt me, right?”

A long, filling silence ensues. You dare take the chance. “Tom?”

The lights flicker and your breathing stops. If you were strapped up to an ECG right now, you would’ve expected it to start beeping exponentially. Your lights have never flickered before, at least not in the time you have been here, yet one mention of his name and things start getting weird. What else are you to assume that as soon as you mention his name, that happens?

“Tom, if that is you, do that again.”

A few seconds pass by and trepidation starts to creep in, but in time, the buzz of the lights dulls once again, blinking the room into a lapse of darkness and you freeze. Flickering lights, unexplained disappearances, colder temperatures. The clues build and a conclusion starts to become clearer and clearer until you decide that it’s undeniable. You are being haunted by a ghost.

“Fuck,” you whisper. “Um…” What the fuck do you say to a ghost? “You’re…you’re not going to…kill me, are you?”

Ding! You turn to your phone, sitting by your bedside with its screen brightly lit as a notification pops into view.

Unknown No.

“Holy fuck. Is this for real? Like, this isn’t some sort of sick joke, right?”

Unknown Nope. Not a joke.

You stare at the screen, riddled with uncertainty while your brain struggles to cope with the numerous questions and theories running through your mind. All of which you don’t seem to have an answer to.

“How…how are you doing that? How do you have my number?”

Unknown I’m a ghost. I possess things.

“Wait…so you are a real ghost, like a real life ghost that haunts people and does all that weird paranormal stuff? Wow…okay. Well, I’m not going to lie, it’s pretty fucking creepy.”

Unknown …

“Sorry.” You find yourself wincing. “But it is. I’m almost scared to ask…” You take a breath, sitting yourself on your bed as your beguiled eyes remain glued to your untouched phone. You’re too afraid to go near it. “What kind of things can you do?”

Unknown Let me show you.

You swallow through the silence, pushed towards the edge of the bed as anticipation grips you tightly. Once again, your eyes peer around the room finding that nothing in particular has changed, but the slow breeze drafting over your face warns you that something is about to happen. With a harsh rattle, your blinds rapidly open and close until the bright light of the sun becomes a strobe in your room. While your eyes are fixated on the self-moving blinds, your TV begins to flicker too, changing between the channels one second at a time. To add to the cacophony of sounds, the trickle of water pouring down your sink catches your ears, gradually increasing until the harsh flow splashes from the sink. From then on, everything starts to make a sound whether it’s a rattle or banging against something, moving frantically and getting louder and louder as time goes on. Within minutes, a hurricane dances around your room, scooping up medical papers in its trace until they fly all around you.

In all honesty, you’re astounded. Shocked to the point where all understanding has left your brain because you just can’t comprehend the extent of paranormal abilities, defying science and all logical reasoning. Sure you’ve seen things like this in films, but they aren’t real. This is real. This is actually happening. This proves that there is actually life beyond death. This proves that paranormal entities can live in another dimension alongside ours. This…

…is making a mess of your room.

“Okay! Okay! Jesus, Tom! You’re going to get me into trouble!” Instantly, the ruckus comes to a complete stand-still. The papers feather down to the floor and all is silent, no indication of Tom anywhere. Your heart still thunders inside your chest. “Well, um…that was…that was intense.”

A single piece of paper lifts from the ground, gliding through the air with twists and turns until it lands beside you on your bed. It’s a medical report detailing your intake of painkillers since the moment you arrived, but that’s only on the front. On the back, however, lies words scribbled across the page in dark ink.

‘Sorry. I got carried away.’

There’s a smile lining your words as you read them aloud, leaving you wondering what they would sound like in his voice.

“It’s okay, I just didn’t know what to expect.”

Another piece of paper lands next to you.

‘You’re not scared?’

You think for a moment. For some odd reason you respond with…“no, not anymore. Actually, I’m impressed. You fascinate me. Honestly, I’ve never really been superstitious or believed in ghosts but now that I know it’s real, I want to know more. Is that weird?”

The paper flips and down at the bottom of the page, where there’s a slither of space, his words are written.

‘Not at all.’

Smiling, you grab the pencil sitting over at the nurse’s workstation. Taking the page and sitting it on your lap, you draw a small, simple smiley face next to his words.

‘So what do you want to know?’

“God, lots of things. Um…” You purse your lips and sit in deep thought. With the thousands of questions swirling around your mind, you can’t pick one to start with. You want to ask something that could be the answer to more than one question, but at the same time, you don't want to ask something that could lead to more questions and confusion. Most importantly, you didn’t want to be too invasive. After all, Tom is a ghost. He’s experienced death, and although death of the conscience is something that the world knows frighteningly little of, you want to avoid being insensitive.

“Okay. Where are you right now?”

Your phone dings loudly.

Unknown Really? That’s the first question you want to ask?

You find yourself stuttering over your words, trying to explain yourself. You bet that he’s standing (floating?) in the room somewhere mocking you. “I…I dunno, I, well, yeah. I don’t know what to ask and what not to ask, sorry if I’m a little inexperienced in talking to ghosts, Tom! Just answer the question.” You huff, feeling humiliated.

You’re suddenly drawn to your IV stand when it starts slowly rolling away from you, leaving you no other option but to follow as the line between the bag and your hand becomes taute. You grab your phone and follow. He’s guiding you, you realise, the possessed item leading you all the way over to the visitor’s chair in the corner of the room until it slows to a stop, leaving you standing in front of it. The air is notably colder over here than it is back on the bed.

“Here? In the chair?”

Unknown Yep.

“Why are you all the way over here?”

Unknown I don’t always like being too close to you.

“Why?”

Unknown Because...

A gasp escapes your throat when a wash of shivers ripples down your arm, particularly at your upper arm. You feel something there, heavier than air but lighter than touch, like someone running an ice cube along your skin. Beguiled eyes watch as the fine hairs raise and stand on end in a very specific patch of skin. Cold on the surface, but durable. The sensation glides down your arm, watching the waves of goosebumps roll across your skin until it envelopes your hand, tensing just ever so slightly. Curious, you raise your hand with your palm facing upwards feeling the invisible sensation softly dancing in circles. If you were to close your eyes, you would think someone was tracing their fingertips across the lines of your palm.

Unknown Do you feel that?

“Yes.”

Unknown That’s me.

“You’re…cold.”

Unknown Exactly why I don’t like being too close. Everywhere I go, it gets cold. I don’t mean it, I have no control over it, and I hate that I’m the one keeping you up at night.

Shit. Did he hear you say that? Guilt keeps you quiet, contentedly staring at your hand as the sensation continues to skate across your skin. That same coldness finds your cheek, a fleeting chill that grazes your skin as it sweeps away the hair hanging in front of your face. You don’t express it, but your equilibrium is unsettled by the confusion of feeling what you imagine is a hand caressing your cheek but at the loss of the normal weight and warmth of a hand. You aren’t deterred from the feeling, in fact you can’t seem to get enough of marvelling over the unexplained.

A gentle smile tugs at your lips.

“Don’t worry about the cold. I can tell you’re a warm person by nature.”

Enough time passes by, the sensation abruptly stops and your smile deflates. Was that too much?

“Tom?” White noise consumes the room, lacking the familiar ding of your phone that you’re growing desperate to hear. You wait a few more seconds, hyper fixating on every inch of your body, tuning in to your sense of touch for any sort of sign that Tom could give you to prove that he’s still there, but you feel nothing but the temperature rising. The little hairs lay rest against the smooth surface of your skin and your lungs deflated with the saddened realisation that he’s gone.

However someone else takes his place. With a short, rhythmic chap to the door, Nurse Sarah shuffles her way into the room, peering around nervously until her eyes land on you standing next to the visitor’s chair.

“What are you doing all the way over there, pet?”

“Oh…I was…I was looking for my book. Must’ve misplaced it somewhere.” The words come out faint and disheartened, fretting over the sudden disappearance of Tom, your book be damned. At the medical advice of Sarah, you saunter back over to your bed where she tends to the nurses station, glancing over scattered papers.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” she murmurs.

“I’m fine, I’ve had my meds for the day-”

“It’s not that I’m worried about. I hope I didn’t scare you with the whole story about Tom. You know it is just a story and nothing more, yeah? The room isn’t really haunted. Like I said, it’s an old hospital that has treated many patients who have gone through some of the worst situations, so there’s nothing you need to be worried about.”

You turn to her, being the wiser, and display a simple smile that’s enough to alleviate the heavy guilt in her eyes. The truth screams in your mind, and you sense its desperation of wanting to be known, your lips already forming the words of what you know to be reality, but for Tom’s sake, you decide to keep the truth locked away for now.

“Of course.”

Sarah seems convinced and with a hopeful smile, she begins to take her leave, stopping only to brush a hand over your Harry Potter book now resting on your bedside table as if it always has been, murmuring something about how it is her favourite, before completely disappearing through the door. Knowing what you know now, you decide it’s best not to dwell on the sudden manifestation of your magical book (you scoff at the irony), and instead read a few of its chapters. It distracts you long enough that you don’t completely fall apart at the idea of possibly scaring Tom away.

A few hours pass, more chapters are read, few visitors come and go, and as thankful as you are for the distraction, when it finally ends you find that your mind is still heavily rooted to the growing concern of a missing Tom. As your mood lowers so too do the lights at the turn of the hour, signalling the beginning of the night-shift. It’s usually when you would try to go to sleep. It’s usually when the cold would seep its way into your bones and keep you up at night. It’s usually when, you now know, Tom is in the room.

One of the nurses kicks away the door stop and wishes you a goodnight, allowing the door to close and silence to ensue. You release a slow sigh, tugging your knees close to your chest just as a chill descends down your spine.

Incoming Call: Unknown

The vibration of your phone rumbles loudly by your side, slithering closer to you as it continues to buzz, wanting to be acknowledged. You’re not normally one to answer calls with no caller ID, but in this scenario, you don’t hesitate to accept the call.

“Hello?”

“Hi.” A soft male voice almost croons into your ear. There’s a confidence laced in that single syllable, one that tells of a voice that knows exactly who he’s talking to: it’s sentimental, familiar. From that alone, you soon figure out exactly who is on the other side of the call.

“Tom!” His name invokes a smile to stretch your lips and he chuckles at the sound of your delight.

“That’s me.”

For a moment, you’re lost for words, simply taking a moment to indulge in the warm tones of his voice as it rumbles through the phone, finally giving who was just an entity a voice to match.

His voice speaks again before you have the chance to respond. “You’re smiling.” His words are teasing, smiling as you are now, eventually descending into a laughter as you bow your head into your knees, cheeks flushed. You can’t help but become infatuated with the sound of him. Perhaps it’s because he sounds exactly like you imagined; warm, inviting, kind. His laughter even more so.

“I’m just happy to hear you, that’s all. I thought you were gone.”

“Why would you think that? I’m always here.”

“I thought that I had scared you off…or something.”

“Are you kidding? Hey, I’m the ghost here. I’m the one that’s supposed to scare you.”

You chuckle a little too loudly for someone who’s supposed to be sleeping in a room by themselves. You share a cautious glance towards your door before returning to the conversation once deeming yourself safe from intrusion.

“You were quiet for a while.”

“I sensed someone coming into the room. Didn’t want to give myself away.” Of course. Sarah had appeared moments after he went quiet. Although it made perfect sense, you tilt your head just as a new thought spawns into your mind.

“You gave yourself away to me.” You state, hinting at an explanation. You’re not sure if he’ll give you one.

“That’s only because I wanted to.”

“Why?”

He doesn’t miss a beat. “I like you. You’re funny. You might not know it but you’ve made me laugh more times than I can count over the last few days. It’s…refreshing.”

“Wow, I make the dead laugh, I must be the funniest person alive.” The words slip from your mouth before you remember who it is you’re speaking to, the colour draining from your face when you realise. “Shit, sorry. That was completely insensitive, I’m so sorry. Fuck, Tom, please ignore what I just said.” You pause, only to hear his laughter cackle through the phone.

“Your face! Hahaha! I’ve never seen someone panic as much as you did right there!”

You heave a sigh of relief, your hand seeking your forehead in refuge as your heart slowly calms to a steady beat. “I thought I seriously fucked up there for a moment.”

“Chill! You don’t need to worry. I came to terms with death years ago. As it turns out, it can be just as depressing stressing about death beyond the grave as it is before it, so I’ve learned to look at things in a positive light. Just like how you and Maisie do.”

“We have to in a place like this. Although, it’s easier when you’re with someone who shares the same outlook as you do.”

“So I’ve come to realise.”

A small, but audible gasp slips past your lips. The sudden ‘light-bulb’ moment pans across your features and your eyes instinctively search around the room, still naive enough to believe that you might just see Tom standing in the corner. His truth lies behind his words and you’re just about smart enough to decipher it for yourself: he sees himself in you. In simpler words, you're something positive to him, a beam of light, someone who he finds comfort in that he doesn’t need to hide from.

You offer a gleaming smile, a little something to show you understand him and the room grows that little bit colder.

You and Tom talk for hours through the night. The balance of conversation wavered between fighting against the uncontrollable laughter that if let loose, would wake the entire ward, and periods of stone-cold silence as you listened to Tom’s stories of his memories. You also faced a struggle of fighting the shivers as he grew closer, reveling in the cold but soft sensations gliding up and down your arm, or the occasional stroke of your cheek, only to be deterred by the shivers he knew he was causing. At the first sign of a shiver, Tom would retreat to the furthest corner of the room, much to your disapproval, and the sensations would disappear.

Being the cause of your shivers was the only thing Tom couldn’t shed a positive light on. Albeit, he did grant you one last shiver before ending the phone call and falling asleep.

When you come around the next morning, there are many things you expect to hear.

“Happy Valentine’s Day!”

“I love you!”

“How sweet!”

“You got me flowers?”

“Awww!”

However, there are also many things, alarming things you didn’t quite expect to hear.

“We need more fluids!”

“Her temperature is too high!”

“We need to check for sepsis. Someone call for the doctor!”

As consciousness fades back to you, the first thing you notice is the sweltering heat that’s engulfing your entire body. You feel as though you’re on fire yet drowning in a pool of sweat. It’s the pinch of the needle going back into your hand that fully alerts you, eyes opening wide to find a circle of faces hovering above you.

“What’s going on?” You mumble.

“Your IV fell out in your sleep last night. You haven’t been getting fluids since then and you’ve gone into dehydration which isn’t great. How do you feel? Is there any pain?”

“No. I feel like I’m burning up.”

“That’s because you are. Your temperature’s between 39.5 and 40. There is a possible risk of sepsis in your kidney which may be the cause of your fever, but we’ll do everything we can to get you better.” You nod hopelessly, keeping yourself locked in a quiet panic as you observe the nurses scurry around you frantically. The heat is discomforting, so much so that there’s nothing you won’t give to feel the cold breeze of wind you know is just outside your window, or a taste of an iced drink as it cools your inner body.

Neither of those things are within your grasp, but even in your melting delirium you realise there is something, or rather someone, that could help your situation.

“Tom.” His name flows in a gentle whisper, quiet enough that it falls on the deaf ears of nurses working around you. Through the narrow slits of your eyes, you manage to catch the slight flicker of the ceiling lights above you, noticed only by those who were looking out for it. As your eyes draw to a close completely, you’re left wondering if you actually gained Tom’s attention, hoping that the old age of the hospital isn’t to blame.

“Ugh, Tom’s having a party again. What is it with these lights?” You hear Sarah’s voice veering off to your left which is followed by a few hushed tones, murmuring in agreement. The small conversation has your lips stretching a little wider.

“Yes he is,” you mutter. Instantly, you feel a cold wash of air sweep across your forehead, almost wincing as extremely hot meets extremely cold. The same sensation finds your hand strewn across your stomach however it’s partnered with a lulling motion, sweeping gently across the back of your hand. It’s the relief you’ve been searching for, healing you quicker than any of the drugs and medication could and in time, you begin to feel yourself gradually cooling back down to a normal temperature. When they are fully satisfied with your condition, the nurses drop out of the room one-by-one until you are left alone with the quiet drip of your new IV bag cutting the room.

But you know you’re not quite alone.

You shuffle onto your side, finding yourself nuzzling into the colder half of the bed. It almost seems comfier too. The sensation you felt on your forehead is no longer stationary and now moves towards the back of your head, teasing its way through the roots of your hair over and over again.

Incoming Call: Unknown

You have just enough energy to reach over to your phone, answer the call and put it on loud speaker.

“Hi.”

“Hey.”

“Heard you were having a party. Where was my invitation?”

“You wouldn’t have wanted to be there. It wasn’t the most lively of parties.”

You offer a soft chuckle, “bummer.” Seconds pass restfully and the sensations don’t seem to show any signs of stopping. When you hear his voice again, it’s less jovial and his voice rumbles with sincerity you aren’t familiar with.

“You had me worrying about you, darling. Caused quite a scare.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened. I just woke up and it felt like I was burning up-”

“Because you were.”

“I still might be if it wasn’t for you.” The sensation pauses briefly, disappears, only to find respite at your lower back and the nape of your neck, and pulls. You're suddenly cocooned in what you could only describe as a hug, tension pulling at all curves of your body weighing heavier and heavier with each second. You know he’s here on the bed with you and the thought arouses a heat to your cheeks that even Tom himself couldn’t get rid of. “Thank you, Tom.”

“You’re welcome.”

“See? Being cold doesn’t seem so bad. Now you have a reason to be close to me now.”

“I guess I do. Nothing says romance like my cold, dead heart keeping you at a stable temperature.”

“Wouldn’t want to spend Valentine’s Day any other way.”

“Speaking of. You should look over to the corner of the room.”

Without a second’s hesitation, you push yourself free from his embrace to sit up against the headboard of your bed. Your eyes immediately lock on to the floating red, heart-shaped balloon hovering calmly in the corner, its string just brushing the ground. You almost forget to breathe.

“Where did that come from?”

“Check your phone.” Obeying, your hands grip your phone while your eyes fervently scan the screen. Aside from being on call, you notice you’ve received a message from Maisie, and attached to the message is a short 13 second video. The video springs to life.

Maisie Emily in Room 110 sent this to me. It's heading towards your room. Maybe this hospital is haunted…’

"It's for you."

"Tom...I...this was you?"

"I stole it from 112 while they were asleep. I think it looks much nicer in your room. Sorry it's a little deflated..."

The video plays on the loop and you can't pull your eyes away from it, twinkling as your cheeks raise into a bashful smile. It's fitting, you think. Tom embodying that balloon is just the perfect metaphor for him. A light, gentle heart full of love and warmth, just a little deflated but still there. It's a moving thought but there's a touch of melancholy too: as the balloon drifts through the hallways, so too does Tom.

God. Is that a lump in your throat?

"That's so sweet of you. Thank you. You know, I was really dreading Valentine's day being stuck in here by myself, but you've made it all worth it."

A sigh of relief cackles the speakers of your phone. At first Tom's quiet. The fantasy in your head plays out a scene; Tom's there, sitting beside you, observing you as you continue to play the video before you. And then, his icy touch cools your cheeks as he swipes away your hair, wrapping it neatly behind your ear before the chill finds your shoulders. It lulls you into him, the shiver welcomed as you feel the tension of where his body would be, and you never imagined that sinking into him would be as soft as it is, but nevertheless, it's a sensation that feels like home.

"You're never alone, darling."

a/n: I hope that video worked.....

[shawning-tomblr]

drunk on you || p.p

summary: peter parker is drunk, the bottle in his hand trying its best to make him forget all about you while you were out on a date… with someone that wasn’t him. peter didn’t want to think about you, and yet he ends up dialing your number. he can’t get you out of his head (or his heart)

word count: 1.7k

warnings: mentions of drinking, suggestive, fluff, swearing. [gif link]

Seguir leyendo

[shawning-tomblr]

Her Perfumes Holding Me Ransom

pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: your new perfume makes Peter unable to keep his hands off of you

Warnings: not smut but still inappropriate so don’t engage if you’re a minor or I’m telling your mom 😡

Masterlist

“Are you almost ready honey?” Peter asked as he fixed his hair over your shoulder as you both stood in front of the mirror. You were getting ready for a house party together in your dorm.

“Almost. Just give me a second.” You said as you put on some lipstick.

“Okay. Take your time.” Peter kissed your bare shoulder before going over to wait by the door. You picked up your new perfume and rubbed it behind each ear and then on your wrist. You rubbed your wrists together to spread the scent and the put the bottle down. Peter immediately perked up and started to sniff the air. He felt all the blood rush to his head, then rush straight down. He turned around and looked at you as you were fixing your hair.

“What’s that smell?”

“Probably me. I’m wearing a new perfume.” You shrugged and walked away from the mirror.

“That’s perfume?” Peter asked as he sniffed the air again. He smiled a little as the most delicious scent he had ever smelled filled his nose. It was overwhelming him, but in a good way. He sniffed the air again and let out a happy sigh.

“Yeah. I found it online. It’s supposed to mix with your natural pheromones or something and enhance your natural scent.” You told him as you grabbed your purse.

“Oh.” Peter said quietly as his face turned a deep red.

“Why? Do you not like it?”

“No I do!” Peter said quickly. “I really do. You smell….you smell good.”

Peter was quiet for a moment as he sniffed the air again. He could barely focus because of how intoxicating your perfume smelled. Peter shook himself out of his trance and pulled you closer by the hand.

“You smell really good.” He said softly before connecting his lips to yours. You smiled into the unexpected kiss and wrapped your arms around his neck. Peter put his hands on your face to deepen the kiss as he inhaled your scent once again.

“Why don’t we just stay home tonight?” He whispered against your lips.

“You don’t want to go to the party?”

“It’s not that I don’t want to go. I’d just rather stay in tonight.” He smiled and pecked your lips again.

“And this is just occurring to you now?” You raised an eyebrow. “As we’re about to leave?”

“I just changed my mind. Unless you want to go.”

“Well it depends. Did you have something in mind that you wanted to do instead?” You asked with a coy smile. Peter smiled back and pulled you into another kiss.

“Maybe.” He mumbled against your lips.

“Maybe?”

“Yeah. I thought we could put on a movie.” He said as he started to trail his kisses down your neck while your scent filled his nose.

“And then not watch the movie.” He said before nipping at the skin of your check. Your got chills down your spine and let your eyes flutter shut as he continued to kiss you neck.

“Come on.” He whispered. “Don’t make me beg.”

“Well now that you’ve put the idea in my mind, I kinda want you to beg.” You teased as he popped his head back up.

“Pretty please?” Peter whined.

“All our friends are there.” You reminded him. “They’re expecting us to show up.”

“But wouldn’t you rather stay here with me?” Peter whined again.

“We do have the place to ourselves. That’s pretty rare.” You said as you started to give into his idea.

“Exactly. Let’s take advantage of the opportunity that has been so graciously given to us.” Peter said with a cheeky smile before pulling you into a long kiss. He nipped at your bottom lip and pulled it between his teeth as he kissed you, something a little bolder than his normal behavior. When you pulled away, your decision had been made.

“All right. Let me take off this dress then.” You playfully rolled your eyes and went to get some pajamas out of your drawers.

“Let me help you. You’ve had a long day.” Peter said with over exaggerated sympathy, making you chuckle. He took your hand and led you over to your bed, where he took a seat. He sat you down on his knee and moved your hair to the side so it wouldn’t get caught in the zipper. A chill went down your spine as Peter unzipped your dress all the way down. He then took a black hair tie off his wrist and tied your hair into a loose ponytail, the way he knew you liked to wear it when you were relaxing. He pressed a kiss to your shoulder blade before patting your hip. You playfully rolled your eyes again and got off his lap to get the pajamas you had taken out.

“Honey?” Peter asked as you stepped out of your party dress.

“Yeah?”

“Leave the heels.” He said simply, making you smile.

“Whatever you say.” You smiled deviously at him before going back over to the bed.

Just as Peter suggested, you put on a movie but didn’t watch it. Your roommate was at the party you had bailed on so you didn’t have to worry about anyone interrupting you. Peter was rougher with you than usual but you weren’t complaining. It was the kind of sex that you knew would left you sore and covered in marks for days, but you weren’t complaining about that either. As much as you loved how sweet and loving Peter typically was, you liked his dark side too. And that dark side was on full display that night in your dorm room. You’d feel guilty about disturbing your neighbors sleep if you weren’t having such a good time. He ended up falling asleep in your bed but you were gone but the time he woke up. Peter could still smell your perfume on your sheets as his hand felt around your bed for your body. He frowned when he found nothing and sat up a little. Instead of seeing you, he made eye contact with your roommate at her desk.

“Hey.” He said awkwardly.

“Hey. Rough night?” She asked flatly.

“No. It was a great night.” Peter smiled sleepily and put his head back down on the pillow. He slept for another hour before going back to his dorm, taking a shower, and going to his first class. As soon as it was over, Peter searched the hallways until he found you. He smelt you before he saw you as your perfume lingered in the air. He was sure he was the only one who could smell it, and there was something about that that he liked. He felt like one of those cartoons that floated in the air as the followed a scent. Finally, he found you in the hallway outside a class. He immediately wrapped his arms around you from behind and kissed your neck, immediately smelling your new perfume. The scent engulfed him and he inhaled it before kissing your neck again.

“Hi. I missed you.” He mumbled against your neck.

“I missed you too baby boy.” You smiled as you turned around in his arms.

“I could smell you all the way down the hall. Are you wearing that perfume again?” He whispered as he nipped at your lips.

“I sure am.” You smiled and kissed him back.

“I love it. It smells like you but times ten.” Peter smiled deviantly as he slipped his hand into the back pocket of your jeans.

“Can you multiple a scent by ten?” You teased him.

“Apparently. You smell so good.” He whined and leaned in to kiss you again. Peter kissed you for longer then you expected and you pulled away, knowing people would be looking at you.

“Peter.” You laughed in surprise and looked around the hallway at the students staring.

“What? Let people stare. I can’t resist you right now. I’m serious, I’m gonna start barking.” He said, making you laugh.

“Do not bark.”

“I might have to. I’m feeling woofy.” Peter said with a low grow and nipped at your lips again.

“No barking. We cannot be that couple. We cannot be the barking couple.” You said definitively.

“Then I’ll just stick to biting.” Peter smirked and leaned in to nip at your neck.

“We are in public mister.” You laughed in embarrassment and pushed him off of you.

“Then let’s go somewhere else.” Peter suggested as he nipped at your lips again.

“I have class.” You whined between kisses.

“And I have a massive love for my girlfriend then cannot be contained.” Peter shrugged and pulled you back into a kiss.

“Keep your massive love in your pants and let me go to class.” You snorted and started to walk away.

“But I don’t have class and I’m gonna be so bored without you. Can’t you just skip for one day?” Peter asked as he followed you like a puppy.

“And miss out on Spanish three? I don’t think so. If I skip today, we’ll probably learn something new and I’ll never be able to catch up. So my answer is no. I can even say that in Spanish. Noh.”

“You’re right. You shouldn’t skip a class just for me.” Peter sighed but didn’t stop following.

“Thank you.”

“So can I come with you?” He asked just when you thought he had dropped it.

“What? To Spanish three?” You laughed in surprise.

“That class is huge. Your professor will never know I’m not supposed to be there.”

“You’re that bored that you’re offering to sit in on my hour and a half Spanish class?”

“It’s less about boredom and more about me being clingy.” Peter admitted as he slipped his hand into yours.

“Peter.” You laughed and playfully swatted his arm.

“You’re dating a clingy man.” He said simply, making you laugh again.

“Okay fine. You can come with me. But you better behave.”

“I will. I promise.”

Ten minutes into your class, his hand was on your knee and traveling up.

“You promised.” You hissed and pushed his hand off.

“I’m just resting my hand.” Peter said innocently and put his hand back on your knee. You rolled your eyes and let it stay there as you tried to focus on your class. A couple minutes went by and his hand slowly started to travel up. You gave him a stern look but said nothing. After another few minutes, it started going up again. Another few minutes after that, it was gripping your upper thigh.

“Peter.” You hissed and gave him a look.

“My hand is cold.” He whispered.

“Your hand is not cold. You’re just a whore.” You whispered back and removed his hand.

“Maybe so.” Peter smirked and put his hand right back. You pushed it off and he put it back again. You gave him a look and aggressively shoved his hand off of your leg. He waited a few seconds before putting it back on. You let out a little huff and shoved his hand again, but he was relentlessly. He let a full minute pass before putting his hand back on your leg. You pushed his hand away again and this time, caught the attention of several students as well as your teacher.

“Senorita L/n. ¿Hay algún problema?” Your professor asked you.

“No. Lo siento Señor Chavez.” You replied and shrunk down in your seat as several people turned around to look at you.

“Lo siento mi amor.” Peter leaned over to whisper in your ear.

“Shut up. You don’t even know what that means.”

“It’s means the siento is running low.” Peter scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“Dios mio.” You mumbled under your breath.

“What was that?” Peter wondered. “Don’t say things that Dora never said or I’m not gonna understand you.”

“Shut up or you’re banned from my dorm for a week.” You whispered as you tried not to laugh.

“No.” Peters eyes widened. “Please.”

“I’ll make it two weeks.” You warned.

“I’ll be quiet.” He promised.

Peter kept his promise and stayed silent for the next few minutes. You were able to concentrate on your work until you saw a little note slid across your desk.

“Can I at least hold your hand?” The note said. You rolled your eyes and held out your hand, which Peter happily took. He flashed you an excited smile before kissing the back of your hand. You bit your tongue to keep from laughing and focused on your lesson again. The class ended soon enough and all the students spilled out of the classroom. You held Peters hand as you walked down the halls and towards the dorms.

“That was so long. But at least you’re finally mine.” Peter said as he wrapped both arms around you and kissed your cheek a few times.

“Not so fast, lover boy. I have homework.”

“I’ll do it.” He offered immediately.

“You’d do my homework?” You raised a skeptical eyebrow.

“If it means I get to do you after.” Peter said simply, making you let out a shocked laugh.

“What is with you today? Did you snort smarties again?” You went from playful to serious as you asked him.

“Nope. I’m just obsessed with you.” Peter said as he slung an arm around you and kissed your temple.

“If you say so.” You chuckled and slipped your hand back into his. As soon as you stepped foot into his dorm, Peter was kissing you. He pressed you up against the door he slipped his hand under your shirt. You were a little caught off guard but kissed him anyway as he picked you up. You never broke the kiss as Peter laid you down on your bed and started to kiss your neck.

“I said I had homework.” You reminded him as he sucked a bruise into your skin.

“You can do it after.” He mumbled against your neck before taking a bite.

“After what?” You played dumb.

“I’ll show you.” Peter smirked and kissed you again.

An hour later, you were both naked and tangled in his sheets as you faced each other. Peters hair was sticking up in every direction which you found pleasantly adorable. Peter was staring at you with a fond smile as he took in your scent. Your sweat had enhanced the perfume and your pheromones even more and Peter was in heaven. He was completely intoxicated and drunk on you, and he loved it.

“Can I sleep over?” Peter asked as he traced patterns on your hip with his fingertips.

“You know I’d let you but roommate is home tonight.” You pouted and pushed some hair off his forehead.

“Then can you sleep over here?”

“What about Ned?”

“He can survive one night on the streets.” Peter said simply.

“Peter.” You chuckled. “You can’t just kick him out.”

“I can if it’s for a good cause.” He insisted.

“What cause?” You humored him.

“Because I want to have sex. Like right now. And preferably for the rest of the night as well.”

“We just had sex.” You reminded him. “What is up with you lately? It’s like you’re in heat or something. Is this because of the spider thing?”

“That spider thing? Is that what we’re calling it?” Peter chuckled as he absentmindedly played with a strand of your hair.

“Well I don’t know. When I met you, you were half the size you are now and wore glasses. Not to mention, you couldn’t barely look me in the eyes. But now you’re swoll and more confident and can do all these crazy things. And it’s not like you gave me a spreadsheet of what all your powers are. So forgive me for assuming the aggressive hornyness is because of the bite.”

“It’s not.” He smiled softly. “I’m just in love with you.“

“I know. But you’re never like this.” You chuckled as you intertwined your fingers with his.

“What do you mean? I’m always all over you, honey.”

“You’re cuddly and loving, yes. But it’s never been like this. You’ve never been into this much PDA or been this clingy. Somethings going on.”

“Nothings going on. I just love you.”

“Okay. I believe you. For now.” You said teasingly. You kissed his lips before getting out of the bed. Peter sat up and watched you as you got partially dressed, never taking his eyes off you. You were about to put your jeans back on when you saw his sad expression.

“So no sleepover?” He pouted.

“No sleepover, baby boy. I’m sorry.” You said and cupped his face as he sat on the edge of the bed. Peter let out a whine and wrapped his arms around you, resting his head against your tummy.

“Want you to stay.” He said softly.

“You’re cute when you’re clingy.” You chuckled and ran your fingers through his hair.

“I just want to be with you always. Is that so bad?” He asked as he looked up at you. You looked down at his and his puppy dog eyes and felt yourself give in.

“Fine. I’ll sleepover. But you have to clear it with Ned first.”

“I will. I promise.” Peter grinned and pulled you back down on the bed.

“Good.” You said as he wrapped his arms around you. He pulled out his phone and sent Ned a quick text to let him know about the plans.

“Ned said he’s gonna sleep over at his friends dorm. We’ll have the place to ourselves.” Peter told you with a smile.

“Great. I’m gonna go back to my dorm and shower first.” You told him. You pecked his lips and got out of the bed again, much to Peters dismay.

“Can’t you just shower here? I can even join you.”

“Ew, in the boys bathroom? No way. There’s probably bacteria living in those showers that hasn’t even been named by scientists yet. And last time I was in there, I saw a lizard.”

“That was a misunderstanding.”

“What was the misunderstanding?”

“The lizard misunderstood where he was.” Peter explained, making you laugh.

“Well in order to avoid another misunderstanding, I’m gonna go back to the girls dorm to shower.” You told him. You started to walk away but Peter shot a web at you and yanked you back towards his bed. You fell onto the bed, right into his arms, and he tightly wrapped them around you.

“But I don’t want you to go.” He whined as he buried his face in your neck.

“I’ll come right back after I shower.” You promised him.

“Why do you need to shower? It’s just me.”

“Because I was outside in the hot sun and I smell like the outdoors.”

“No you don’t. You smell great.” Peter said as he started to kiss your neck again.

“You’ve mentioned that.“ You chuckled as Peter moved his kisses up to behind your ear.

“Come on.” He whined. “Don’t take a shower. I like the flavor of the marination.”

“Oh my God.” You laughed. “You didn’t just say that.”

“Ew. I’ve never heard someone use the contraction in the sentence before. It’s “you did not just say that”. You can’t just throw “didn’t” in there like that all willy nilly. There are rules.”

“Fine. You did not just say that.” You humored him.

“Thank you.” Peter smiled sweetly before kissing your lips.

“You’re welcome. I’ll be back in twenty minutes.” You told him. You tried to get up but he rolled on top of you to keep you there.

“No.” He whined.

“You’ll be fine without me.”

“No I won’t. Stay. Please?”

“Peter. Let me go.” You laughed and tried to wiggle out of his grasp. You managed to break free and started crawled away from him but he yanked you back by your ankles. You laughed as he climbed back on top of hover over you.

“No shower. Just stay with me.” He said as he hovered over you.

“I have to shower.” You groaned and tried to crawl away again. He pulled you by the leg back towards his and leaned down to bite your butt.

“Ow!” You laughed. “No biting. Let me go.”

“I can’t. I love you too much.” He said as he wrapped back arms around your legs and rested his head on your butt.

“Peter!” You whined and tried to break free.

“What?” He asked innocently.

“Let go of me.” You said again, and he finally listened. Peter sighed and sat up in his bed while you got out of it.

“When will you be back?”

“Twenty minutes. Like I said.”

“Can you put the perfume on after you shower?” Peter asked sweetly.

“I will.” You said before mumbling, “Slut.”

“Stop it!” Peter playfully gasped. “I’m not a slut.”

“Sure. I’ll be back.” You told him as you pulled up your jeans. Peter sighed again and flopped down on his bed as you left his room. It wasn’t long before you came back in wearing a pajamas set with your wet hair resting on your shoulders. Your scent was amplified and radiating off your skin, making Peter smile wildly.

“Oh my God, finally. That took forever.” Peter said as he excitedly sat up in his bed.

“I was gone for less than 20 minutes.” You laughed at how over dramatic he was.

“I know. That was way too long. Never leave me for that long again.”

“You’re ridiculous.” You smiled softly and shook your head.

“Ridiculously in love with you. Now come here. Right now.” Peter playfully commanded and patted his lap. You broke into a smile and walked over to him, immediately going into his arms. Peter wrapped his arms around you as you both fell back onto his bed.

“This is all I wanted. I love you, honey.” Peter sighed happily.

“I love you more. And I have to admit, I kind of like clingy Peter. He’s cute.” You smiled softly at him as you rested your chin on his chest to look up at him.

“Clingy Peter likes you.” Peter returned the smile as he played with your wet strands of hair. You propped yourself up so that you could kiss him again, which he happily accepted. He put his hands on your face and rolled on top of you. One hand slipped underneath your pajama top as he moved his kisses down your neck and chest.

“Hmm. You smell so good.” He mumbled against the skin of your neck.

“Well I just showered.” You reminded him.

“It’s not that. It’s just you. You naturally smell amazing.”

“This is so Twilight. You don’t even know.”

“Less talking more kissing.” Peter said against your lips before kissing you again. You made out on his bed for a minute until Peter had to pull away for air.

“You smell so fucking good.” He mumbled before going in again.

“Oh my God. Wait a minute. That’s why you’re whoring out lately? Because of my perfume?”

“I wouldn’t call it whoring out.” Peter mumbled under his breath.

“I would.” You snorted. “And now I know why. It’s because of my pheromones, isn’t it? That’s what’s got you all drunk in love.”

“I just like the way you smell.” Peter said sheepishly. “It’s really attractive to me.”

“Really? You’re attracted to my scent?” You asked with a coy smile.

“Yeah. I can’t explain it. It’s just amazing.” Peter sighed happily as he took in your scent.

“It’s just perfume.” You chuckled.

“It’s not just perfume. It’s you. I wanna sip you like a cup of tea.” Peter growled a little as he leaned in to nip at your neck.

“Oh really?“ You sighed happily as he sucked another bruise into your throat.

“Yes. I can’t get enough.” He whispered between kisses.

“And you’re sure this isn’t a spider thing?”

“No.” Peter said after hesitating for a moment.

“Oh no.” You chuckled. “What’s that pause for?”

“It might be a little bit of a spider thing.”

“So I was right!” You gasped and sat up with an excited smile.

“I said might!” Peter reminded you. “I have enhanced smelling. I can always smell you, but the perfume makes it ten times better. So much better, in fact, that I simply can’t resist you.”

“I guess I should wear it more often.” You smiled deviously.

“I might snap you in half if you do.” Peter smirked and leaned in to kiss you.

“What?” You laughed against his lips.

“That was supposed to sound sexy.” He whined. “I mean I won’t be able to keep my hands off of you.”

“Oh yeah?” You smiled. “Well that’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.”

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[shawning-tomblr]

when i saw you in that dress

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Synopsis: Nikki let’s you try on her wedding dress and all the boys have a different reaction

Masterlist

“Hey, Nikki.” You yawned as you came down the stairs into the living room. “Good morning.

“Oh, hi darling.” Nikki looked up from the photo album she was looking through and smiled. “You didn’t go with the boys today?”

“No. Golfing isn’t really my thing.” You shrugged. “And I can’t only see your sons whine over who can hit the furthest so many times.”

“Good call.” She chuckled before going back to her book.

“What are you doing?” You wondered as you sat beside her on the couch.

“Just reminiscing. Our anniversary was a few days ago and I wanted to look at the pictures.” Nikki said as she slid the album to your lap. Your eyes lit up as you looked through the aged pictures of her wedding day.

Seguir leyendo

[shawning-tomblr]

So how’s the cow? Same as you. Everyday they have to convince her she’s a cow. 50 First Dates (2004) dir. Peter Segal

cora’s 1k follower celebration 🍿 for @themarshalstale