#LLFTD 100 FOLLOWER BASH

[lovelettersforthedamned]

thinking about telling tasm!peter to come over with his favorite camera and take pictures in my lingerie and pictures of him fucking me just for later 🥰

Take A Picture, I’ll Last Longer 

--genre + trope: fluff, nsfw.

--pairing: college!tasm!peter parker x college!f!reader

--word count: 0.7k

--warnings: use of a camera, mentions of pants tightening (LMAO), lingerie.

“What’re you doing right now, baby?”

A beat passes before he responds, “Nothing, bug. Why? What’s up?”

“Oh, nothing,” you sigh, “just missing you.” Holding the phone to your ear, you look at yourself in the mirror in front of you. You admire the lace details on the recent purchases you picked up from the store, running your finger along the trim. 

“Well, I can come over right now. Just give me like fifteen minutes to get over there,” you can hear the rustling of objects in the background, Peter not needing confirmation to start getting ready to leave.

A smirk rises to your lips, deciding to play with his head a little bit, “You better hurry, baby. I wanna show you something. Oh! And bring your camera with you.”

He notices that you’re tone has changed, and it makes him wonder what you could be planning. He pauses his movements to reach over to his desk, picking up his trusty camera. “Okay bug, I’ll be there soon.”

“Bye, Petey.” 

Hanging up, you toss your phone on the bed, taking a look at yourself another time. A part of you is nervous coming off this strong, anxious thoughts plague your mind. What if I don’t look good? Is this too much? He might think this is stupid, I should just change. Taking a deep breath, you calm yourself down. Peter is a simple man, if he sees his stunning girlfriend in a beautiful set of lingerie, he’s going to worship your being for the rest of his days. There was no doubt about it. 

Your curtains are drawn when you hear a knock on your window, hastily walking over, you pull them back, revealing your figure. Even with the glass separating you two, you could feel Peter’s eyes run across every inch of your body.

He’s the one that pushes the window open, eyes never leaving your frame as he climbs inside your bedroom. Dropping the backpack he brought with him to the floor, he pulls your face in to envelop your lips in a breathtaking kiss. He starts to walk the both of you to your bed behind you, clearly needing you as soon as possible. “Wait, baby,” you pull away, breathless, “did you bring your camera?”

Still an inch away from your face, he eyes your lips as you talk, “Yeah, why?” 

You push him away, and sit on the corner of your bed, “Take some pictures of me. I bought this just for you.” 

A breathy laugh leaves him, staring at you with eyes full of lust. He can’t believe what you’ve just asked, he’s in shock, he’s in love. Breaking eye contact with you, he reaches down into his backpack and pulls out his camera, turning it on and correcting the focus before snapping a picture of you sitting on the bed, legs crossed, leaning back on your hands, eyes looking up through your eyelashes, and a dangerously wicked smile on your lips. The quick and bright flash lights up the room as the shutter, along with Peter’s breathy moans, are the only things heard within those walls. 

Your little photoshoot lasts a good twenty minutes, Peter barely has to give you instructions on how to pose. You know what he likes, and you make sure to give him your all. He barely lasts the twenty minutes, every so often, you look down at his jeans, now tight and tenting. The sight of him hard gives you a feeling of gratification, you were so worried for nothing. “God, you are amazing (Y/N),” he mutters, as he clicks through the pictures he just took. 

He walks over to sit beside you, tilting the camera towards you to show you the pictures as well. “What are you going to do with them?” 

Peter looks down into your eyes once again, a teasing smile painting his face, “What do you think I’m going to do with them?”

“Hmm,” you tap your index finger against your chin, acting clueless, “I don’t know…Why don’t you show me?”

He already set his camera carefully on the floor before he responds, knowing exactly what is going to happen, “Show you, huh? I think I can do that.”

You giggle before he attacks you in a hug, pulling you down onto the mattress. 

--author's note: sorry guys i left you hanging for the smut LOL. send me some more smut requests, these are fun;) keep sending me requests!!!! my inbox is open!! keep supporting your writers by commenting, liking, and reblogging. ok, bye ily<333333

[lovelettersforthedamned]

baby making with peter? either they already have a little one or it’s their first time tryin + bonus if it’s around the holidays :)

3+1

--genre + trope: SMUT, fluff, nsfw.

--pairing: dad!tasm!peter parker x mom!reader

--word count: 1.2k

--warnings: kissing, oral (f receiving), very fluffy sex, unprotected sex (DONT), creampie, multiple orgasms, fluff at the end.

--gif credits: @bethanyesda

The wind carried the snow throughout the city, a constant chill whipping past those that are traveling through the city. The beginning of December remained ruthless, but the multicolored lights coming from the apartments across the street warmed you. Inside your apartment, you and Peter have been unable to detach from each other’s touch all night. You two have been talking about adding another member to the family, the thought dancing through your mind for the past few days. Peter was actually the one to bring it up earlier this morning, catching you off guard. You told him you were okay to start trying, but you didn’t know you would start tonight. 

Your daughter, Junie, was at your family friend’s house, decorating cookies with their kids, and probably eating all of them in the process. She doesn’t know about your plans to give her a sibling, but of course, you asked her what she thought. As soon as you asked, her face lit up, and right from that moment, you knew that you needed another little one. 

The warm lighting accentuated Peter’s features as you two were entangled on the couch, your lips dancing around each other until you had to pull away for air. Peter asks as he looks into your eyes, “Are we going to do this…right now?”

You draw your attention to his face, searching for any signs of regret, “Yeah, I want to, but if you don’t then we don’t–.” Peter cuts you off with another deep kiss, the reconnection of your lips making your chest flutter. 

Smiling into your lips, he mumbles, “Let’s do this baby.” 

He climbs off of you, standing, as he extends a hand towards you. Grabbing it, he pulls you off the couch and leads you to your shared room. There’s a pep in his step, his eagerness never fails to amuse you. Reaching your room, you immediately pull him back into your embrace, enveloping him in another earth-shattering kiss. He swore his knees almost buckled. 

Still kissing him, you blindly lead him to bed, not daring to pull away. One thing about Peter is that his hands love to travel and explore your figure, and tonight was no exception. He knew all of your soft spots to memory, his delicate touch tracing the sides of your neck, leading down to the high point of your collar bone, and eventually making his way down to cusp the supple flesh of your breast. The soft squeeze was enough to elicit a delicate moan.

You wanted more, grabbing the back of Peter’s hand, and guiding him to the hem of your shirt. He’s caught on to your desperation, grasping the fabric and pulling it off of you. Revealing that you chose not to wear a bra today. It’s only then that Peter pulls his lips away from yours, leaning back to admire the view in front of him, “Fuck baby…you’re perfect. Y’know that, right?” His eyes raised to look back at your expression, a playful glimmer flickering on his face. 

You lean back onto your arms, making your breasts the main focus, and you respond, “I’m not sure Petey, maybe you could tell me, or even better, you could show me.” 

Peter’s stunned by your teasing, a sudden burst of confidence, making him dizzy. A giggle erupts from your chest as he climbs on top of you. Peter starts to litter kisses upon the valley between your breasts as he works to undo your jeans, quickly undoing the button and ripping them off, pulling your panties along with them. 

As soon as you’re undressed, Peter quickly follows, stripping himself until his beautifully toned body is in front of you. Peter knows what he wants, and there is nothing stopping him from devouring your, now-dripping, core. He sinks to his knees and pushes your thighs apart, the cold air touching your aching clit, making you hiss. 

With dilated pupils, Peter immediately attaches his mouth to you. He groans into your entrance, your taste wrapping around his tongue. Your hands find their way to his hair, the brown strands weaving through your fingers as you tug. Peter notices how much you love this, and it only adds to his pleasure. He loves worshiping your body. He still marvels at the fact that you’re able to create life. He honestly gets a little emotional thinking about it, but that’s for another time. Right now, all he wants you to do is cum in his mouth. 

He knows you're close when your toes curl and your clit starts to contract under his lips. Only a few seconds pass when his suspicions are confirmed to be true. He feels you cum onto his tongue, another groan escapes him as he’s surrounded by the taste of you. As you start to come down from your high, your fingers untangle from Peter’s hair and make their way to his hands. You’re panting as he asks, “You feeling okay, bug?”

“Baby,” you look down, “if you don’t fuck me right now, I think I might die.”

He crawls up to you, greeting you with a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips, “Alright, alright, be patient my love.”

“Please, please, please,” the world cascading off your lips like a mantra is quickly resolved as Peter enters you, bottoming out. A collective moan echoes through the room and ricochets off the walls. 

Not breaking eye contact, you hold his face, taking a mental picture of him in this state. Peter’s pace has been lovingly slow, but you didn’t mind. Both of you realized that this moment is sacred. There’s no rush, no panic, but there is the overwhelming weight of tenderness pushing on your heart. Pulling Peter close, you nestle your head in his shoulder, occasionally giving him small kisses on his neck. 

In this new position, you’re able to hear each pant, grunt, and moan perfectly. Combine that with the stimulation each thrust gave your clit, and you were right on the edge, once again. “Peter, baby, you whisper, “I’m right there…I’m gonna cum.”

A louder moan leaves Peter as he feels your walls clench around him, “Cum for me, cum for me (Y/N).” 

Cumming on his cock sent shockwaves throughout your body, causing your legs to shake beside him. It wasn’t long before you could feel a sudden pressure inside you, Peter coating your walls with his cum. He gives you one last thrust, making sure he got every last bit inside you. 

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you murmur, “I love you…so much, Peter.”

Peter’s arms nestle under your back, pulling you impossibly closer, “I love you too, (Y/N).”

~

After you’ve both cleaned up and settled back onto the couch, you breathe in deeply, soaking in this time with Peter. The lights outside your window twinkled and shone through the evening sky, and an indescribable cheer lingered in the air. “I can’t wait to tell Junie,” Peter says.

You smile, and the thought of making her a big sister brings tears to your eyes, “It’ll be quite the Christmas for her, huh?”

Peter presses a kiss to your temple, softly sweeping the hair that fell into your face behind your ear. And as if right on cue, a knock on your door startles you, signifying that your little baby Junie is back.  

--author's note: PETER PARKER, THE MAN YOU ARE!!! no but seriously holy shit i love him. this request and the other request for dad!peter is my weakness, actually. thank you for requesting!! mwah mwah mwah...support your writers by liking, commenting, and reblogging!!! my inbox is open, even past the 100 follower bash fyi! keep sending me ideas, i love them so much. everyone's brains are so delicious and smart. ok, ily bye<333

[lovelettersforthedamned]

exe’s to lovers with frat! tasm, he comes crawling back and crying (its kinda pathetic but)

Till His Lungs Give Out

--genre + trope: hurt/comfort, light angst, college!au, sfw.

--pairing: frat!tasm!peter parker x college!gn!reader

--word count: 0.7k

--warnings: language, peter is so pathetic, peter is also an asshole in the beginning tbh.

It was weird walking by yourself to your apartment. No matter what time it was, Peter was always by your side. It didn’t matter if he had to be somewhere when he was walking you to and from your class, this was his time with you, and he swallowed every second of it. 

You couldn’t help but envelope yourself with those memories, but the cool air whipping past your cheeks shocks you back into reality. It’s easy to reminisce about the good times with Peter, especially when you don’t have him anymore. Breaking up with him wasn’t something you ever pictured would happen, especially within this semester. 

There is nothing inherently wrong with Peter, he just had small moments that turned into bigger moments. You didn’t feel especially valued in the relationship. Sure, he gave you special attention and bombarded you with love…within closed walls. It seemed like Peter turned into a different person the minute you two were in a social setting. He started to shut you out and treat you like you guys weren’t just cuddling in his room an hour earlier. It made you feel like there was something wrong with yourself like you were something to be ashamed of. 

When you broke up with him, you didn’t let him tell his side of the story, because his fraternity brothers interrupted you before you could even finish your sentence. You left him with a ‘We’re done, I can’t do this with you anymore. You treat me like-” before the hollers from the boys behind him cut your declaration short. It wasn’t like you didn’t provide him with the opportunity to pull you aside or tell them to fuck off, you did, and he still didn’t try to make an effort with you. You thought that he was just bringing you along for when he needed some personal attention, for when he was bored. 

Walking away from him, you didn’t look back, you didn’t want to act like you’d miss him. Because you don’t, you think.

It had been a few hours after you got home, and your roommate was out with her girlfriend for the evening. Sitting on the couch watching trash TV, you hear a knock at the front door. You pause the show in front of you and walk to the door, curious as to who could be knocking on a Friday night. Coming face to face with the door, you look through the peephole. You sigh, “Fuck.” Peter was standing on the other side, hands nervously in his pockets. Resting your forehead on the wood, you have a silent debate with yourself, thinking of letting him in or not. Another knock interrupts your thoughts. 

Pulling open the door, you’re met face to face with the boy you swore you wouldn’t talk to again. There’s a good long minute where both of you don’t say anything to each other, you don’t dare look in his eyes. A silent sniffle breaks the silence. Peering up at him, his eyes begin to water and his brows pinched together. “Bug, I’m so sorry. I-”, a broken sob leaves his lips. Pulling him inside, you close the door behind you. “I don’t know what I did,” he tries to speak again, albeit shaky, “but please, I’ll do better. I’ll be better, I’ll do anything. I-I’m sorry (Y/N).”

It’s almost hard to watch the scene unfold in front of you. You know Peter won’t stop apologizing until his lungs give out, so you take his hand and lead him to the couch. He keeps repeating ‘I’m sorry’ to you, and you need to stop him before he tires himself out. You reach your hand up and cradle his face, “Hey, Peter? Just take a breath, and then we’ll talk about everything, okay my love?” 

A nod followed from the broken boy in front of you, and that was all you needed before you told him everything. You told him how you felt, asked him why he felt the need to change himself around different people, and how you two can fix this. The rest of the night was spent with many heart-to-hearts and a movie playing in the background. Everything might not be okay for now, but you went to bed in a relationship again. The morning will come and another day will pass, but for now, you’re wrapped in your comforter with Peter, and that will do. 

--author's note: PATHETIC PETER RAHHHHHHH!!! writing peter when he's all sad and stupid because he did something dumb is my favorite things to write. ANYWAYS, thank you for the request!!! keep sending some asks in, i need more writing material. keep supporting your writers by liking, commenting, and reblogging!!! ok, bye ily<3333

[lovelettersforthedamned]

CONGRATS ON 100!! 🎉 i was wondering if you could do a blurb about peter being the cutest, caring dad and building his kids stuff or for his own lil family 🥹. i’m in desperate need of domestic peter!

Acts of Service

--genre + trope: FLUFF, sfw.

--pairing: dad!tasm!peter parker x pregnant!f!reader

--word count: 0.5k

--warnings: dad!peter is the cutest and i'm not okay about it.

The sunny afternoon cast warm rays of light into your apartment. Winter was just on the cusp, so soaking in the last remnants of fall was essential, especially with your second child on the way. You just finished making lunch for you and Peter. Your son, Lucas, was screaming all night about missing his Auntie May, so after a quick call, you dropped Lucas off to spend the day with her. 

“Hey, Peter! Lunch is ready,” you yell down the hall. A second of silence passes, before you peer into the hallway, wondering why he hasn’t called back yet. Listening closer, you realize Peter has a jazz record on, the music lightly filling the rest of the apartment. You laugh to yourself as you make a plate for him, and walk towards the source of the music. The room he’s in is going to be your daughter’s. 

You’re about 30 weeks, so preparing for her has been on the forefront of your mind. Even though you’re barely showing, Peter has been very aware of what decorating you’ve been doing in the new room. As you make your way to the doorframe, you can see that your husband is hunched over, building a new chair that you both will be spending lots of time in. After Lucas was born, you spent many sleepless nights rocking with him in a chair similar to the one that Peter was building. You didn’t know he bought a new one, the box revealing a picture of it.

Your sudden presence makes Peter turn around and face you at the door, his senses picking up on you. He stands up, carefully walking through the mess he’s made, greeting you with a kiss. Looking down at the plate, his eyebrows furrow, “Oh, honey. You didn’t need to bring this to me.” 

“It’s alright,” you smile at him, taking a peek over his shoulder, “I was wondering what you were doing in here anyways.”

Looking behind him, he studies the mess, “Yeah…oh, um, surprise!” He uses his free hand to present the project as if you hadn’t seen it the second you walked into the room. 

Walking further in the room, you look at the half finished chair, “And when did you get this?”

He comes up behind you, reaching down to take a bite of his lunch, he speaks up, words muffled by his food, “I ordered it a while ago. I knew you loved the last one, and the same company just released a new one, so it seemed like perfect timing.”

“Thank you, baby,” you turn to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him close.

Setting the plate on the dresser next to you, he wrapped both his arms around your waist and kissed the side of your head, “Of course, bug.”

For the rest of the afternoon you spend next to Peter’s side, watching him build the rest of the chair. Watching him work on projects was your favorite pastime, especially when he’s making something for your family. Peter carries so much love for you and the little family you and him have built together, and he can’t wait to see his little girl. 

--author's note: im sorry this was so cute??? i need domestic peter so bad, sighhhhh. keep sending in requests!!! don't forget to support your writers by liking, commenting, and reblogging!! ok, bye ily<3

[lovelettersforthedamned]

im currently going to school to be a mortician/funeral director and could you write a lil thing where P^2 is flirting with reader and he asks what her major is- and she’s all jaded from people going 😨 whenever she’s tells him but since its Peter he’s sorta excited about it bc he’s never met anyone with that major

idk if you couldn’t tell that this was self-indulgent but congrats for making 100 followers. You deserve it! <3

Dead Serious

--genre + trope: FLUFF, college!au, sfw.

--pairing: college!tasm!peter parker x college!gn!reader

--word count: 0.3k

--warnings: so sweet that your teeth are aching.

--gif credits: @sincericida

“So what’s your major?”

God, this was the question you’ve been hoping to avoid your entire time at this crowded party. The boy in front of you, Peter Parker, carried a conversation so well. There wasn’t a time during your entire 30 minutes of knowing him where there was an awkward pause or gross feeling of uninterest between the two. The only time you felt a sudden shift in conversation was right now. 

Studying to be a mortician isn’t the brightest topic of conversation, especially with a cute boy. A lot of people are shocked when they first hear your response, followed by a question that carries a connotation of morbid curiosity. You were tired of the repetitive and constant reactions of people you will probably never meet again. 

“Umm,” you hesitate, “I’m a mortuary science major.” You fully expect Peter to recoil in confusion, or at the very worst, disgust. 

“Wait, that’s awesome! How do you like it so far?”

His response comes as a surprise, looking up at him, he has the same giddy look, a slight smile painted on his lips. “I really enjoy it…” you drift off, debating whether or not to ask him about his response, “you don’t think that’s weird?”

This time, it’s Peter’s turn to look taken back, “No, not at all. I’ve never met anyone with that major before, it’s cool, you’re cool.”

A blush paints your face, “Thank you, Peter.”

“Of course, (Y/N),” he looks in your eyes a little moment longer before taking a deep breath in, “so, what made you get into mortuary science? You don’t have to tell me if you’re not comfortable.”

You guys talk all night, mostly about your major surprisingly. His questions about your major were extremely thoughtful, he was actually curious. Bantering back and forth, you both decide it’s getting late. He walks you to your apartment and bids you a good night, not before getting your phone number and texting you before heading to bed himself, smiling to himself like an idiot until the moment his eyes shut. 

--author's note: HEYY! this is the first blurb for my 100 follower bash, and this makes me so excited to write for this. KEEP SENDING IN REQUESTS!!! support your writers by liking, commenting, and reblogging!! ok, bye ily<3

[lovelettersforthedamned]

LLFTD 100 FOLLOWER BASH!!!

HELLOOOO!!!!

thank you guys so much for 100 followers, this is so baffling to me. i genuinely thought that my fics would not pick up any traction, because there are so many delicious fics out there and why would anyone read my stuff??? the support and feedback i've received from you guys is seriously so amazing, and i can't wait to write more things for you guys to consume.

in honor of reaching 100 followers, i am hosting a little celebration!! send me an ask about any character on my masterlist, and i will write a silly little blurb for them!! all genres and AUs are accepted :))

i will be using the tag #LLFTD 100 FOLLOWER BASH on all the blurbs i post!!!

*ends on november eighteenth*

thank you guys so so so so much! cheers<3