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youandtom2 · 9 months

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Okay okay okay I know I have a million and one things to be writing right now but this idea just popped into my head and I’m a little obsessed. A lil Peter Parker fluff since I seem to be lacking it these days.

Imagine this…

It’s maybe 5-8 years later and Peter’s a little older, let’s say mid-late twenties. He’s still Spider-Man but it’s taken quite a toll on him, and being his biggest fan, twenty-year-old you spent all your teenage years watching old YouTube videos that people had posted about him, whether it's him saving the day once again or a friendly interaction. You dove deep. Really deep. News articles, TV clips, blogs, anything to fill the void of never having met him. Obsessive wasn't the word, it was just...really intense admiration.

In fact you learned and observed so much that you badly inherited his techniques; fighting, netogiating, his sense of deliberation and morales. You wanted to be the good guy, just like him.

Until one year, you decided that you wanted to help him out and support him in any means necessary.

What better way to do it than become just like him? Beating up the bad guys, stopping crime, keeping the city safe, just like he used to with a smile on his face.

It worked…for a while. Perhaps you sometimes got in a little over your head and admitted to being over ambitious with who you picked a fight with but it worked. Alas, Spider-Man didn’t recognise the help. You weren't even sure if he knew who you were. Nevertheless, you persevered because even without his recognition, each bad guy you stopped was one less fight for spider man.

Except one night, things didn’t go to plan. Your enemies were well equipped, well trained and far too cunning for your liking. You didn’t know what you were thinking; how exactly did you plan on single-handedly shutting down a five-man bank heist??

You became bruised, bloody and harmed like never before, reduced to merely a punching bag for the perpetrators, sport for the wicked. Just when you thought it was all over for you, when the light drained from your eyes, to your relief Spider-Man swooped in. The Spider-Man. The very same you had dreamt of meeting one day. The only shame was that it just had to be under these unfortunate circumstances. Damn.

Half conscious, he whisked you away to safety. Where? You’re too dazed to know, and you were left to slowly recover in the warmth of your bed while Spider-Man finished what you started. Your only regret was that you were barely conscious enough to thank him.

But he knew where you lived. That was something, right?

Surprisingly, he returned during the night with a few cuts and bruises to his skin, but it was nothing in comparison to you. He emerged from the window, his silhouette standing menacingly in front of you. Even with the mask that gave little away, it was obvious he had a dark scowl on his face and the narrow slits of his eyes painted exasperation. You swallowed thickly. He was not at all what you expected him to be, the hero persona you saw in all those videos ceased to exist and the closer he trudged towards you, the more you began to think that tonight's decisions were a mistake.

You shuffled nervously away but with the same scowl, he tended to your wounds, tutting and reprimanding each one, his small mutterings of disapproval twisting the knife of guilt that was already deep in your gut.

“I was just trying to help you out,” you whispered dejectedly.

“I don’t need help. Not from someone like you.”

Ouch.

“Just stay out of it. I've got enough people to protect, I can't keep looking out for people like you who deliberately put themselves in danger."

Then he was gone, floating out of your room with nothing but a gasp of wind swaying between your curtains. It wasn't just your body that took a beating that night. With your dignity slightly bruised, you decided that the only way you could recover from it was to push on, to not let his words take away all that you had achieved. You were sure you still had plenty more to accomplish, with or without Spider-Man's influence.

Ultimately you ignored Spider-Man's warning and continued to take it upon yourself to keep playing the wannabe hero. You were determined to prove him wrong, to show that you can rise to the occasion and prove that your mental shield is just as strong as your dedication.

A week and a half of convalescence passed by before you were back to your old habits, tapping into NYPD radio frequencies and listening out for reportings. Morally quiestionable, but it was all for the better.

Only one of note came through; a drug exchange, two known perpetrators. Easy.

And it was. You had the two pinned and tied ready for the police to collect them two minutes before they arrived. You were gone before then, not leaving a single trace of your presence. Pride smothered the pain and you walked home that night looking up at the bright stars in the night sky as if looking into the whites of Spider-Man's eyes, and gleamed brightly, perhaps with a twinkle of complacency.

Proved you wrong.

Little did you know, from the shadows and the dark contours of the tall buildings, he was actually watching you, following you. But of course, you didn't have the same spidey-senses as he did, so how could you possibly know he was there? He shook his head because that was the issue, you couldn't do half of the things he could, you were so ill-equipped, so normal, how could you possibly think that you could keep doing these dangerous things?

He swung away. He had more pressing matters to tend to.

~~~~

That drug exchange you stopped? Yeah, wasn't actually as simple as a drug exchange. It was two members of a dangerous cartel exchanging stolen intel from the NYPD. You were the reason why the NYPD found out they had a mole who had been stealing from them.

Yet they blamed Spider-Man. The only one they deemed capable enough of taking down two of their most dangerous members, and definitely not you.

It was then you learned that your actions had consequences because on the next night of exercising your vigilante hobby, the police had reported that Spider-Man had been ambushed, taken, held hostage and subjected to torturous methods of interrogation.

Your stomach dropped and your mind pleaded for repentence but was soon overtaken by a rage of retribution. It was dangerous, reckless, idiotic even to get involved. But Spider-Man had save your life once. It was time you returned the favour no matter how much Spider-Man would have repulsed the idea. The words swirled in your head. 'Just stay out of it.'

No. Not this time.

Conventiently, the interrogation was being held in the old, abandoned building you used to call your high school and it gave you the upperhand. It was likely that neither the cartel nor the police knew about the broken removeable fence at the far end of the sports ground. It was your way in.

Voices echoed from the gym hall.

"How did you know?!" Whack. A punch to Spider-Man's gut. "Who informed you?!" Screaming. Scratching from Spider-Man's throat along with incessant murmurings of I don't know I don't know.

While guilt thrummed through your veins, you needed to keep your cool, needed to figure out a way to get Spider-Man out safely. And quickly. What would Spider-Man...

No. What would you do?

From the bleachers, your eyes caught sight of the four big speakers hung at the corners of the room, the same speakers that voiced the principle's announcements during class. You had your idea, and you set your feet quickly into motion.

It was the perfect distraction. Thankfully there was still some power left in the old building, just enough to project the sound of the radio pressed against the microphone and left just enough time for you to make your way back to the gym hall where Spider-Man was being held.

Once the enemies had realised that there was someone else lurking among the hallways, your opponent numbers dropped from ten to two. Which was much more manageable.

Darkness and stealth was on your side but the pressure of time was weighing heavy. You had to act now. Filled with adrenaline, you took your chance and struck leaving the two enemies stunned enough to untie Spider-Man and drag him towards the emergency fire exits before the others returned. It was a fight like no other, exchanging hits, kicks and punches with equal hatred. But you had learned from the best.

You knew that as soon as you got out, you were on the home stretch. Your escape was becoming more and more plausible.

Despite your involvement, despite going against his word, Spider-Man still clung to you like his bloody, beaten body depended on it.

"C'mon," you strained, heaving underneath his heavy body as you trekked across the playground. "You can make it."

"Why are you here? I thought I told you to stay away." His voice was so hoarse from screaming that it was reduced to just a rumble coming from his throat, yet it was still somehow laced with frustration. You winced.

"Returning the favour."

Spider-Man heaved a painful breath, fighting to find his next words. "You shouldn't have."

You didn't reply.

You had whole-heartedly intended to return Spider-Man's favour in its entirety. Being unexpectantly successful in saving him, your next step was to tend to his wounds just like he did with you. But the second you were able to set him down, surrounded by the safety of the police, Spider-Man didn't wait one second before he reached upwards, extended his web and flew away, leaving you behind without a second glance.

Gutted. Absolutely gutted. Let down. Heartbroken.

Frozen, you had watched him disappear into the night feeling a void, a crater of emptiness dwelling in the pits of your stomach, swallowing up every particle of pride and achievement you thought you deserved. He ripped that all away from you.

Of all the enemies you had faced, of all the challenges you took on, the pain you had endured, no one had left you so emotionally defeated quite like Spider-Man had. Your hero. Your hero no longer. The holy image you had of him had shattered.

You fought with yourself so much over the incident that your mind was in ruin. One side told you that you exuded so much pride in yourself that it smothered his, leaving him embarrassed. Spider-Man saved by a random nobody? People, beside Spider-Man, would begin to question his capabilities. It would destroy his reputation.

But on the other, would it have killed him to thank you?

You soon learned not to care anymore. It had been weeks since you last saw him.

The door of your apartment softly clicked shut behind you as you trudged in with your groceries, juggling them all within your hands. It was a matter of time before the weight toppled and the loose apples went rolling across your floor, now bashed and bruised. Broken. No good. You barely had the motivation to pick them up, in fact, you barely had the motivation to do anything anymore. The fact that you had even left your house to shop was surprising in itself considering you had condemned yourself to your apartment. After all, Spider-man had abundantly made it clear that you were good for nothing. You had failed to learn the lesson he was trying to teach you all this time. Why exert yourself to do any good if it was just going to leave you equally as miserable?

After settling your groceries upon the counter top, you eventually set about picking up the apples, not even bothering to flick the main light on. The metal lid of your bin flapped open and--

"Don't bin them!" A voice came from behind you. You shrieked, whipping around to see a body standing by the edges of your kitchen. The lights came flickering on and standing there, to full height, was Spider-Man. He was fully suited, fresh, colourful, inviting.

Still frozen to the spot, he calmly stalked closer to you, plucking an apple from your hand and inspecting it. He gave it a quick clean against the fibres of his suit. "Nah, definitely not worth throwing away." Without hesitation, he casually lifted the bottom half of his mask to just below his nose, revealing only his mouth that bit into the apple. It seemed silly to admit, but you realised that there was indeed a human underneath that suit.

"What...what are you doing here?"

"Having an apple," he quipped. Your eyebrows quirked inwards, clearly not the answer you were searching for. You rephrased.

"Why are you here?"

He ignored your question and took a stroll around your kitchen, perching himself up onto the bunker, legs swinging childishly. "That's the thing about apples. They can endure a little bumping, a little rough-and-tumble, but they're still good on the inside."

You studied him carefully, analysing every word he said, every movement he made. Nothing about him stayed true to the Spider-Man you saved weeks ago. What was going on? Where is all this coming from? You remained on your toes until you discovered his motive.

"You've been keeping quiet it seems." His tone dropped, as did his informality and something more serious stepped in.

"Isn't that what you asked of me?" You could've done without the sneering, but given the heartbreak he had caused you, it was justified.

"Multiple times. But it never stopped you before. Why now?"

"Because..." you turned away from him, ripples of your misery washed through you. You took a deep breath and blurted out the truth like it was releasing the shackles that had been quietly binding you. "Because all I wanted to do was help you out. Not once did you care or appreciate it. Not once have ever said 'thank you'. That night..." He knew the one you were talking about. "I realised that no matter what I did, that was never going to change. So why bother."

He hopped off the bunker taking another bite from his apple. "Why would I do that, hm? Why would I thank you?"

You stared at him, incredulous. Your temper was begging to boil. "Because it's what people do when someone goes out their way to do something for them?! A stranger no less. Someone with zero obligation or commitments to you."

"True. But if I were to thank you, if I were to tell you that I had appreciated everything you did to help me out, if I were to thank you for saving my ass, would that not be encouraging of the thing I told you not to do?"

"I--"

"I let you do what you felt like you needed to do for a while, but the moment you got hurt I had to step in, I told you to stay out of it." He had sauntered over, standing within an arm's reach of you but you didn't falter.

"Why?"

"Because!" He bellowed. You flinched, his temper now matching yours. "You have no obligation or commitment to me! You don't need to do any of those things for me, yet you do. If I had let you continue believing that it's all okay to put yourself in harm's way, that it's okay to get hurt, or worse, killed, for me, then I would never be able to forgive myself."

For once, you didn't have the words nor the courage to counter his argument. Moments went by standing under his shadow, watching as his temper simmered to a look of pure despair. "Look," he said, quieter, more level headed. He placed his apple onto the counter beside him and bravely raised his hands to come either side of your face. Your heart skipped a beat. "I see the goodness in you, I really do. It's hard to come by these days. I don't want to see that being destroyed by some shithead on the street."

You averted your eyes but he only just followed your line of sight, somehow desperate to let this message sink in. "Promise me you'll keep yourself safe and leave the ass-kicking to me, alright? Be my good apple."

He mirrored the smile that found its way to your lips, inches away from his own. "Promise me?"

"I promise."

"Good." In a swift movement, he lured your head down until your forehead is met with a kiss, soft, sweet. Your eyes flutter shut for no more than the few seconds after he kissed you and when they open, they find his chest. He still kept you there, close to him, ensuring you felt the words that his lips brushed against your skin, over the scar you had obtained on one of those fateful nights. "You saved my life," he whispered, as if reminding himself. "I am forever in your debt. And be that as it may, please, please, don't do it again."

"Okay."

Spider-Man slowly pulled away, taking one last bite of the apple before pulling down his mask. He made a turn towards your open window, the way he came in, but not without a boyish chuckle, running a ragged hand through your hair and teasing it softly.

"My good apple."

a/n: wtf was this hahahahaha good apple? christ.

#peter parker #peter parker fluff #spider man #tom holland #tom holland fic #peter parker fanfic #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker dabble #peter parker shorts #mcu #fluff

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patanahinkyun · 5 months

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*credits to owner of gif- u r amazing

tom holland x reader-

fluff ‘cause life is sad enough already

You were startled out of your slumber upon hearing a loud crash that seemed to originate from the kitchen. Harshly rubbing your eyes in effort to regain consciousness, you sat up on the bed, feet softly padding down through the archway of the bedroom.

The cause of the crash was, unsurprisingly, your overtly clumsy boyfriend, who had managed to drop both the plate and glass water bottle he had tried to hold together. He now stared guiltily at you, adorably sort of jumping over the shards of glass that now lay scattered on the floor, as he took you into his arms, mumbling a soft ‘sorry’ into the depths of your hair.

You couldn’t help but let a smile overtake your face, heart beating as you took in his presence, after having been apart from him the whole day. You both cleaned up the mess and Tom comfortably settled onto the dining table as you reheated the food.

Setting the warm food in front of him, you sighed as you rested your hand chin upon your hand, watching him practically gulp it down. He started animatedly narrating the things that happened on set, you contributing an enthusiastic nod when you felt him pause.

Mere minutes passed before your vision slowly started to blur and your eyes drooped shut. He looked up, just in time to see your hand drop from under your chin as it almost violently banged the surface of the table, as a gasp tore from his throat.

Amazed to find you were still out cold, Tom was the one who sighed this time, quickly finishing up his food before lightly picking you up, careful not to wake you, a feat that seemed almost impossible at the moment. He laid you down on the bed, barely controlling his burst of laughter seeing the trail of drool that had started to emerge from your mouth.

Quickly taking off his sweatshirt; he practically ran to the bed, switching on the heater in course, as he finally ended the day, with you in his arms.

#marvel #tom holland fanfiction #fanfic #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland #fluff #short reads #cute

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verxn · 1 year

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Sick day

Description: you’ve been keeping quiet about you being sick with a little cold you’ve caught because you didn’t want Tom to stop everything he was doing just to take care of you, that is until he still finds you in bed.

Pairing: Tom holland x black fem reader

Note: just another shitty writing :-(

Tom woke up and looked around the room, everything seem a bit…off, usually y/n magenta silk bonnet would be on the dresser next to the scarf she puts on before bed, her clothes would be thrown on the end of the bed and there would be 3 pairs of shoes since she can’t seem to decide what to wear.

Tom looked to the side, to see his wife sleeping peacefully, her beautiful dark skin shined because the light shined through the curtains. Her hair was wrapped up or so she thought, her box braids slipped out of the bonnet and scarf. Y/n started to cough in her sleep, it went from small coughs to being awoken up from coughing.

“Hey honey, you okay?” Tom said to his wife while running to her side. She nodded still coughing, she then pointed to the little trash can across the room “hand me that” she said in between the coughs

Tom got up and put the trash in front of his wife as spit in the trash. “Yuck” y/n said putting the trash to the side of the bed “y/n are you sick?” Tom asked rubbing her back “yeah but I’ll be fine in no time, you can continue your work, no need to worry” she said with a weak smile

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, you can barely move” he said with a concerned look painted on his face, she frowned because she knew this would happen. “I’ll be right back” Tom said while grabbing his phone and walking out of the bedroom.

Y/n sighed and laid back down in bed, before she knew it she was gone, Tom walked back in and saw her sleeping quietly. He tucked her in and tried to at least put her braids back in the bonnet so they won’t get messed up.

He kissed y/n’s forehead and exited out the room to make some soup for her.

When he was finished he brought the hot bowl of soup and some crackers to her, placing it on the nightstand beside the bed, he tapped her. “Honey wake up, I made soup” he said softly

Y/n sat up groggily and sighed, she rubbed her eyes tiredly and looked at the soup. She grabbed the bowl and started to eat some, she ate half the soup and some crackers.

Then proceeded to lay back down, her husband looked at her while she drifted back to sleep, tom placed the damn near empty soup bowl back on the nightstand and sat down at the end of the bed watching over y/n as she slept peacefully.

This song was kinda my inspo….it was literally playing when I was writing this🧍🏾

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thatsmzbitchtoyou · 2 days

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Tasty- FINAL Chapter 4

Summary: Peter just wanted to have one night of fun. Then that night of fun almost killed him. Now it won’t stop haunting him. And he’s loving it. *Curvy/plus size, female reader Warnings: mostly smut with plot, some physical pain

Peter woke up the next morning to an empty apartment. Y/N left him a note with some pictures:

Hey Tasty Boy,

Thank you for last night. Don’t stress about any arachnid related activities, I got you covered. Hope these help. See you in a month.

Sugar Mama

Peter smiled at the note and looked at the pictures. She had caught the Prowler making an arms deal, the pictures clearly showing his face and the faces of those he was working with. He rolled his eyes. She’s going to beat me out of my job. Under the pictures was a stack of bills equaling $7000. He just stared at the money after he counted it. She really was his sugar mama.

The months went by and Peter was finally financially stable and secure for the first time in his entire life. Y/N had paid off his debt then paid him extra cash on the side while feeding from him once a month. His job was going well since he was able to get the scoop faster and with better pictures than the other photographers, and she was integral in helping him fight crime on those weekends when she fed from him and he was out of commission for a few days. Each time she came she was extremely gentle and flirty, making sure he was comfortable and arousing him before taking what she needed. He grew to look forward to those weekends when she would magically show up. The make out sessions before he passed out were like an extra reward on top of everything else, but he knew he was in dangerous territory as those feelings turned from pragmatic to romantic. He longed for her touch, wanted her to stay longer, and grew eager when the four week mark approached.

After a year and a half of their arrangement being like clockwork, Y/N was late one month. She didn’t materialize after the four weeks and Peter worried what was going on. She had been paying him so well that it wasn’t like he was strapped for cash or worried about anything financially, but he worried about her and where she was. He would look out for her as he swung through the city at night, but couldn’t seem to sense her anywhere.

The time stretched to seven weeks since he’d last seen her when one night he was swinging and almost ran into the side of a building. Y/N was near, he could feel it. It was almost like her essence was floating at the edges of his vision and he swung up to one of the high towers and waited for her. He tore his mask off and looked around, letting his spider sense guide him to where she could be.

“Y/N?” Peter mumbled as he stepped behind a pillar of the bell tower.

“Tasty boy,” Y/N muttered, her voice sounding like a breeze that reverberated in his head.

He turned and met her black eyes, her lips turned into a menacing smirk and the dark circles looking deeper and veiny. She looked starved. “Y/N, God where have you been?” Peter reached out towards her, his hands gripping her arms.

“Did you miss me?” Y/N giggled. She stepped closer to him, one of her hands hastily taking his hand away from her arm and raising it to her face. She deeply inhaled his wrist, her eyes rolling back in her head.

“Y/N,” Peter said warningly, trying to pull his wrist back. “This isn’t exactly the best place. Let’s go back to my apartment, huh?”

“I’m sorry I’m late,” she said, inhaling him again like she didn’t hear him. “Some vampire hunter got in my way. I just need a taste…” She pressed the spider at his chest, making his suit release from him and she pulled the glove away from his hand and down his arm until she could grip his fingers and licked the veins along his wrist.

“Y/N, wait…hey, you said you would make it not hurt!” Peter yelped as one of her fangs scratched along his skin.

Y/N seemed to come back to herself a little at that, her eyes widening as she looked up at him. “I–I’m sorry,” she whispered, but she didn’t let go of his hand. “I can’t…I can’t wait any longer. My good boy, please help me,” Y/N pushed him into an alcove between two pillars, their bodies covered in darkness.

Peter tensed as she started to kiss his chest and up to his neck, licking along his jugular and nipping at his jaw. “It’s okay, Y/N. Here,” he moved so that they sat down, like he was cradling her in his arms. He brought his free arm up to her mouth, twisting his wrist so the underside with his more prominent veins pressed against her lips. She desperately licked his wrist, saliva dripping at the edges of her mouth as her hands grasped his arm and she sniffed him. “I’ll be okay, just take a taste for now, then we’ll go home, and you can finish,” Peter promised her. Y/N looked up at him sadly as she kissed his wrist. She nodded and twisted herself to a more comfortable position for his arm to be in, then quickly scraped his wrist with her fang, causing the warm embers to bristle through his skin, then licked it heavily for the cool numbing to spread. She then sunk her teeth into his wrist and sucked.

The icy-hot feeling didn’t have enough time to circulate in his system before she bit him so Peter gritted his teeth and hissed as her teeth sank in. He tried to relax as she drank, knowing that it wasn’t her fault she wasn’t able to properly prepare him before getting a snack. He would be fine, the healing already happening in his body. Y/N moaned as she continued to drink, the dark circles under her eyes slowly receding and as her eyes fluttered he could see the black ebbing away back to her natural Y/C/E color. Peter sighed heavily, the blood loss starting to make him woozy.

“Y/N…” he slurred. “Just a taste…go home…”

Y/N gasped and released his wrist, licking it quickly to help the skin heal. As the puncture wounds closed she twisted in his arms and held his face. “I’m sorry! Such a good boy. It’s been so long,” she started kissing all over his face.

“It’s alright,” Peter goofily smiled as the ringing in his ears started to lighten, his blood flow getting back to normal.

“I’m sorry I hurt you. I tried–”

“I’m fine, baby, let’s just go back home,” Peter murmured. He didn’t know where the pet name came from, or why he kept saying home as if she lived there, but he didn’t correct himself and Y/N didn’t seem to mind. She helped him get back into his suit and then made sure he was okay to swing again. He couldn’t see her as he swung from building to building but he could feel her, almost like her shadow was riding his back as he headed towards his apartment. When they reached it he crawled into the open window and quickly shut the window once he could feel she was inside with him. He felt her behind him and when he turned around she was standing there smiling at him. She stepped forward and pressed the spider again, making his suit pool down around his feet.

“I’m sorry. Again,” Y/N looked down, her fingers skimming along the wrist she bit. Peter used his finger under her chin to make her look back up at him.

“I’m okay, Y/N, really. It wasn’t that bad,” he reassured her. Y/N still looked at him sadly. “Are you okay? From that vampire hunter?”

Y/N’s sadness melted to frustration, her eyes hardening as she scoffed. “I’m fine. What a traitor. Half vampire himself, the fucker. He could be out there killing the actual problem and yet he comes after me?” Her face suddenly scrunched and a growl emitted from her throat just as a few taps were heard on the window. They both turned and looked to see a man outside clad in all black, a sword strapped to his back and a fangy smile on his face. “Speak of the devil…” she hissed. Peter instantly stepped in front of Y/N, crouching to get ready to pounce on the man.

“Woah now, boy, you don’t wanna do that,” the man said as he pulled open the window and slipped in. “This bitch has you under a trance, you don’t wanna risk your life for her.”

“Like hell I don’t,” Peter scoffed at him. “I’m not under a trance. I let her feed from me.”

“You…what?” the man jerked at that piece of information. “Why would you do that?”

“We made a deal,” Peter said matter-of-factly.

“You made a deal with the devil, boy, now move,” the man pulled the sword from behind him.

“Okay, let’s just take a beat,” Y/N said, pulling Peter back. “Blade, I’m not doing anything wrong. Why come after me when you should be going after Dracula’s harem?”

“Wait, there’s a real Dracula?” Peter interrupted.

“Yes. And for some reason this dumbass is wasting time trying to chase me rather than go find them,” Y/N gestured to Blade exasperatedly.

“I go after all vampires who feast off of humans without remorse,” Blade spat at her.

“I am remorseful. I hurt my sweet tasty boy tonight,” Y/N grabbed Peter’s cheeks and squished them, speaking to him in a sad sing-song voice. “I didn’t mean to. But he’s right, we made a deal. So unless you intend to watch us like a pervert, you can kindly fuck off.”

Blade looked skeptical. Peter spoke up again. “I’m not in a trance, I’m helping her of my own free will, and she’s helping me. I’m okay. Please leave.”

Blade sighed heavily before sheathing his sword. “Making deals with vampires isn’t going to end well for you.”

“I’m sure,” Peter agreed.

Blade gave Y/N one more glare. “I’ll be keeping an eye on you.” Y/N scoffed as he then turned and left through the window, gliding down the fire escape into the night. Y/N went and shut the window behind him again.

“Ugh, cockblocker,” she grunted before closing the drapes and turning back to him. “Now…where were we?”

Peter shook his head and chuckled. “You were going to finish your meal.”

“Ah yessss…” Y/N sauntered over to him, her fingers sliding from the top of his boxers up to his neck. She leaned forward and kissed from his sternum to his jaw.

“Y/N, I–” Peter wanted more. She always helped him feel good and got his blood pumping before a feeding, but he wanted it to be more, to mean something.

“What is it, tasty boy?” Y/N pushed him back towards his bed, making him sit down as she shrugged off her coat and shoes and straddled his lap.

“I…do you…like me?” Peter felt pathetic even asking it. Y/N ran her fingers through his hair as she continued kissing along his jaw to his cheek.

“Of course I like you, tasty,” Y/N mumbled against his skin as she licked along the side of his mouth.

“Fuck…” Peter moaned. “No, I mean…”

“Uh oh,” Y/N pulled away slightly to look at him. Her eyes narrowed at him as she sighed. “You’ve fallen in love with me.”

Peter’s eyes widened and he inhaled sharply. He swallowed and tried to regulate his breathing. “Would that be such a bad thing?” Y/N looked at him sadly. “Peter…”

Peter shut his eyes and hung his head. “It’s alright, I understand. Let’s just do this…”

Y/N pulled his head back up and set her forehead against his. He opened his eyes slowly to look at her. She had unshed tears in her eyes as she watched him. “You can’t love me, Peter.”

“Why not?” Peter whispered, his brow furrowed.

“I’m not even fully alive,” Y/N snorted. “But I’ll outlive you. I can’t give you the life or future you deserve. Even this,” she gestured between them, “our arrangement will end someday, and I’ll have to let you go, as much as it will hurt me to do so. You don’t want this,” she looked down at herself. “To live forever is a curse.”

Peter knew she was right, and it crushed him. He didn’t want to live forever, he didn’t want to become a vampire. He shook his head roughly, refusing to let his emotions overcome him and cry in front of her. He cleared his throat and forced a small smile as he looked at her. “Okay,” he said simply. Y/N’s tears finally fell when she lifted her head. She gave him a sad smile back, her lips quivering as she breathed in deeply. “You’re going to leave after tonight, aren’t you?” Peter asked, though it was said more as a statement. She nodded, her lips tightening into a thin line. “Well then…will you let me have you? Just this once?” he asked. Y/N’s eyes widened, her mouth parting as she exhaled quickly. “Then you can feed, then we can pretend none of this ever happened,” he said, almost like a reassurance to himself more than her. He leaned forward slowly and pressed a kiss to the side of her mouth. Her eyes fluttered shut. “Please?” he whispered against her cold skin.

Y/N’s head fell back as she heaved a shaky breath, holding back a sob. She nodded frantically then kissed him. Peter kissed her back fervently, his arms holding her tight against him. In a flurry of panted breaths and moans they undressed each other fully and he maneuvered their bodies so that he was above her. She had always been on top of him, but this time she gave up her position and let him take charge. Peter kissed and licked down to her breasts, fondling and massaging them while he sucked at her nipples, making her hips jerk against him. Her fingers gripped his hair, holding his head against her chest. He kissed down to her core in between her legs, hooking his arms around her thighs as he dipped his head to lick her slit. Y/N gasped as he licked her thoroughly, his tongue teasing her entrance and sucking at her lower lips. When he found her clit he flicked it slowly with his tongue at first as his arm moved so his fingers could slip inside her. She moaned as he started with one finger, then quickly added a second as he sucked at her clit. Peter watched her carefully as his fingers thrust in and out, reaching for a certain spot inside that when he found it she gasped again while bucking her hips against his hand and face.

“Fuck, tasty, just like that,” Y/N whined. Peter smiled as he thrust his fingers faster, curling against that spot over and over again. She whimpered and he flicked her clit faster and harder with the tip of his tongue. “Oh fuck, fuck…Peter!” She stiffened as she came, a small squirt covering his mouth that he quickly licked up as much as he could. He pulled his fingers out of her after she relaxed and licked his middle finger clean.

“You call me tasty,” Peter teased her and lifted his pointer finger to her mouth. Y/N obediently opened her mouth and sucked his finger, groaning at the taste of her own slick. She pulled him up to hover over her again and kissed him deeply, her hands sliding down his back until she could reach his ass and pulled him so his hips were grinding against her, his cock sliding along her slit. Peter shuddered against her as she helped him thrust.

He pulled back and lined himself up with her then looked in her eyes. Y/N was already watching him, and as he slowly pushed himself inside her they both stared at each other. Y/N whined again, the stretch making her mouth fall open in pleasure. Peter whimpered as her pussy enveloped him fully and his head fell against her shoulder. He started thrusting his hips into her, then randomly rolling his hips, trying to find a rhythm that would make her moan. Peter didn’t want to make it fast but couldn’t seem to help picking up the pace, chasing the sweet sounds she made as he learned what she liked. He wanted this to last, for her to stay in his bed forever. The imminent goodbye was too much for him to bear and he could feel his breathing becoming ragged as he swallowed down a lump forming in his throat.

Y/N kissed and licked from his cheek down to his throat, her hands wrapped around his back, keeping him close. Her licking became more urgent as the orgasm was building inside her. Her fang skimmed his skin and he could feel the burning sensation.

“No, not yet,” Peter moaned, and moved his head, his hand coming up to grip her jaw and make her kiss him again. Y/N grunted at his rough treatment but let him move her. One of her hands moved up so she could grip the back of his neck, her fingers tugging at his hair. She moved him back so she could lick at the wound she made on his throat, the icy numbness spreading across his skin. “No, baby please,” Peter cried, actual tears starting to form in his eyes as he thrust harder into her. Y/N sucked at his throat harshly as the tightening in her core escalated. Peter could feel her pussy fluttering around his cock and he chased his release, his body taking over even as his heart seemed to scream at him to slow down and take his time with her.

“My sweet, tasty boy,” Y/N whimpered against him as she nibbled his earlobe. Her hand slipped between them and she rubbed and flicked at her clit quickly. A broken sob made her chest stutter. “I’ll miss you…”

“Ah!” Peter could feel her start to tighten around him. “I’ll miss you baby. Fuck…I love you,” he whispered. His hips drilled into her harder and faster until she jerked her hips against him and let out a shriek as she came again. Peter wasn’t far behind her, giving her two more hard thrusts until he grunted and moaned as he spilled into her. Y/N’s fangs sunk into his neck right as he did, making him see stars as the tears finally fell down his face. She drank from him slowly, the hand holding his head to the side loosening so she could gently pet his hair, letting him hold her. He didn’t want to pass out yet, didn’t want to let her go, but he could feel himself start to doze off as she pet his hair, her other hand tickling up and down his spine.

His vision became fuzzy and he felt her release his neck and lick him slowly. She shifted so that he was laying on his side now and she cradled his head against her chest. Peter could feel her chest shaking slightly as she cried, kissing the top of his head. “Peter…tasty boy…love…”

***

Peter awoke with a jolt, sitting upright in bed. He looked around, trying to get his bearings, rubbing his swollen eyes. He looked next to him to find the bed empty. He slowly remembered what had happened the night before and his heart crumbled again. He was dressed in a t-shirt and sweatpants, the only evidence of their night together being the light soreness in his neck and hips. Peter cried again, hanging his head in his hands as he sobbed heavily. Y/N was gone. He was never going to see her again. He had fallen too hard, too fast, and he should have known better. He stumbled out of bed, grabbing his phone and realizing he had slept for 14 hours. He left his room and trudged to the kitchen. Peter stopped when he saw a note on his kitchen table.

He breathed deeply, trying to calm his broken heart as he grabbed the note and slowly opened it. It was her handwriting and he closed his eyes, trying to focus and stop crying for a moment.

Tasty boy,

I’m sorry it had to end like this. I wish nothing but goodness and happiness for you, and that you find someone who can give you the love and full life that you deserve. There’s an account in your name that should take care of you for a while, information below. You’ll always be my favorite.

<3 Y/N

Peter laughed bitterly at the note. Even as she left she took care of him. He sat at the table and held the note against his chest, letting himself grieve over what could have been.

Peter eventually started to feel better, getting back into the routine of his life. He buried himself into work and his Spiderman duties so he wouldn’t think about her too much, letting himself forget about things like vampires and vampire hunters. The months and then the years went by, Peter’s heart mending one day after another. Then he met Gwen…

@aoi-targaryen

THE END! I hope y'all liked this one. I legitimately cried while writing this last bit. The next one I'll be focusing on our grand old Star Spangled Man with a Plan, Steve Rogers in a modern royal au. Again, if anyone has any suggestions, feedback, or requests please let me know. Thank you all! You're the best. :)

#marvel #smut #peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker #spiderman x reader #spiderman #curvy reader #vampire!reader #vampire #spiderman x curvy!reader #peter parker x curvy!reader #chapter 4 #final chapter #short series #tom holland

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pbnjparker · 2 years

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cuddles | t. holland

an: just a cute fluffy short blurb w tom <3 love u guys sm and again after 295023 times im so sorry for lagging :( ive got two more weeks left of my term and only get to rest for one week before going into my summer term!

pairing: tom holland x fem!reader

“You look extremely adorable right now,” Tom said lighting tapping your nose, “It’s hard to lay here, in your arms and not want to kiss you.”

You smiled and move closer to him, “I won't say not to any kisses.” You mumbled, “I’m sure you wouldn’t.” He laughed, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead.

“I’m so lucky that I get to have you in my life,” You smiled, “I really don’t know where or who I'd be if I never met you.”

Tom rubbed your back soothingly, “I love you,” He said pressing another kiss on your forehead, “I can’t wait to see what the future has in store for us.”

Before you know it, Tom had already fallen asleep and you felt yourself falling asleep too. You pressed a small kiss on Tom’s cheek, “Good night sweet angel.” You whispered, “Good night love.” He said before pulling you in closer to him.

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riordanness · 8 months

Text

coffee… at midnight [p.parker]

1.4K wordcount

warnings: none

requested: no

Thank goodness for that one boy… I think to myself as I breathe a sigh of relief as the final customer in the line walks out the door of ‘Swift Beans’, the small cafe/corner store I work at every night after school, to save for college next year.

I wouldn’t say that I hate customers, exactly, but large rushes will never, ever be something I enjoy.

Everything about them frustrates me. The stress of so many orders at once? The mess that it leaves everywhere, because you have no time to clean up during the rush itself? The lack of enjoyable chatter with customers?

Honestly, most of the things about this job frustrate me. Mostly, it’s the endless consistency. I hate routines, especially day-by-day ones. The mundane cycle makes me want to scream.

I let out a long sigh of frustration and exhaustion as I finish wiping down the bench behind the counter, and collect the empty milk cartons to take out back to the bins.

When I come back in, I glance up as the door opens and the little cluster of bells hung above it tinkles excitedly as it announces a new customer.

My face breaks into a smile against my will. If it isn’t my absolutely favourite customer. The brown haired, brown eyed boy started coming in here every afternoon at four fifteen exactly about a month ago, and it is the best part of my day, to be honest.

The boy reaches the counter, but before he can open his mouth to order or even say hello, I grin and recite: “One caramel oat milk latte, small, and a honey mustard sandwich with extra pickles.”

His honestly surprised smile is beautiful, and so worth it. “How on earth did you guess that?” he jokes sheepishly.

I roll my eyes lightly, teasing him. “Oh, I don’t know…” I muse, tapping my forefinger on the side of my jaw. “Maybe because you order the exact same thing every single day, and you’ve been doing that consistently for like a year?”

“Technically, it’s only been twenty-five weeks,” he corrects me, his smile almost a smirk as his brown eyes meet mine.

I laugh. “Exactly.” Throwing his pre-wrapped sandwich at him (I make it early just especially for him at the beginning of my shirt everyday), I make my way to the coffee machine, getting a shot of espresso ready and grabbing a takeaway cup to pour it into.

“So,” he says, stepping closer to me to talk. “How was your day?”

I make a slight face of annoyance as I reach for the red carton of oat milk. “Well, I had to go to high school all day, and then I got stuck in this dump of a shop, as usual.” I pour the milk into the shiny milk jug, and place the steam wand into the milk, the tip just under the surface of the milk.

“Hey, at least you’ve got a paying job,” the boy laughs gently.

Raising my eyebrows, I look up at him. “Oh, that’s right. You intern for Tony Stark, right?”

He nods, suddenly looking adorably shy.

“Hey, nothing to be embarrassed about,” I say. “Even if you aren’t getting paid for whatever it is you do, I bet there’s tons of kids who’d kill to be able to work for Tony Stark. Hell, I’d kill to just be in the same building as him.”

He laughs for real this time, and I feel a little swirl in the pit of my stomach. Something about the sound, about his smile, his eyes…

I blink, shake it off, and return my eyes to my milk jug, remembering that I actually have a job and need to do it. I twist the steam knob, and hear the all too familiar hiss of the hot steam coming out of the wand. I watch as the milk folds into a whirlpool, the little ch ch ch of the steam calming my suddenly rattled nerves.

I finish steaming the milk, and expertly pour it into the espresso shot, swirling the mlk around, mixing it with the golden brown creme, before bringing the top of the milk jug right up close to the coffee, and pouring a perfect heart. I bite my lip in satisfaction.

“Aw, look at that!” He smiles, and I give him an appreciative one in return. “I think you get better at latte art everyday,” he says earnestly.

I glance at him in surprise, my brow furrowing. “You really think so?” I ask. I take a lot of pains with my latte art, watching endless videos on how to improve your milk and pouring techniques, and I like to think to myself I’m improving, but no one, not even my manager has ever actually complimented my art skills.

“Yeah, ‘course,” he says, putting the takeaway lid onto the cup, and taking the first sip, the way he always did before leaving. “Mmm, good,” he says, a phrase I’m very used to.

I suddenly feel brave, and meet his brown eyes. I’ve been dying to know this boy’s name for weeks, spending hours every night thinking about him in my bed. I hadn’t fully allowed myself to believe it before, but today, I knew.

I had a crush on this boy, and I didn’t even know his name. I was a pretty shy girl when it came to talking to people I had a genuine interest in knowing. Customers, I could talk to them just fine. A new kid at school or a cute boy? I was absolutely hopeless. Okay, time to finally be fearless, I think, and open my mouth.

“What is your name?”

He gives me that smile I’ve begun to love so much. “Peter,” he says. “Peter Parker.”

“I’m y/n,” I tell Peter.

Peter smiles at me again, and slides a ten dollar bill across the table towards me. “See you tomorrow, y/n,” he says, before he turns and leaves the store.

I glance down at the money, and the note beside it.

call me, pretty girl?

xxx-xxx-xxxx

-Peter

That night at home, I rush through my homework faster than I ever have before. I shower, yank on my pjs, and sit cross-legged on my bed as I stare once again at Peter’s note. I gingerly pick up my cell phone, and swipe it open.

I type in the phone number Peter gave me. My thumb hovers over the green call button, however. I’m not even sure why I’m so nervous about this to be honest. It’s just a phone call. To a boy. To a very cute boy. A very cute boy who I’ve been crushing on for weeks. Who gave me his number and left me a note calling me ‘pretty girl’.

I bite my lip and press the button, hard.

Holding the phone to my ear, I hold my breath as it rings, once twice, three times.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” I say, a little breathlessly.

“Oh, hey, pretty girl,” he says, his voice warm and soft. “You got my note, I see.”

“You basically handed it right to me,” I laugh. “If I somehow missed it, I’d definitely have to get glasses and I really do not want glasses.”

“Why’s that, love?”

My heart skips at the nickname, and an irrationally wide smile creeps onto my face. “I, um, hate how I look with glasses on. I used to have them when I was little and they looked awful.”

“Nah,” Peter says easily, clueless to the effect he was having on me. “I reckon you’d look really cute with glasses on.”

“You think so?” My voice is weak.

“Definitely.” He was not going to be swayed. “You are literally the prettiest girl I have ever seen. Hell, I go to the exact same store every day after school, even though it’s completely out of my way, just to see your smile.”

I’m smiling now, so big it almost hurts my cheeks. I flop backwards onto my pillows, staring up at the fading and peeling glow-in-the-dark star stickers on my ceiling. “I asked for more hours just to be able to serve you. I learned how to make barista coffees just so I could make yours everyday.”

“I think I’m in love with you, y/n,” Peter says suddenly.

My breath hitches. “I-I think I’m in love with you, too,” I say. “I have been for a while, actually.”

I can almost hear his smile through the phone. “I’m glad.”

We stay on the phone for hours after that, chatting endlessly. And the night after, and the night after that. He still comes into the cafe every afternoon, and I still make him his caramel oat latte. And honestly, I’ve never been this happy to have a daily routine.

#peter parker #mcu #mcu peter parker #peter parker fic #short fic #fanfiction #fanfic #mcu fanfic #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fanfiction #mcu peter parker fanfic #mcu peter parker fanfiction #marvel #spider-man #mcu spider-man #tom holland #tom holland fanfiction

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avalentina · 6 months

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Ava's Holiday Writing Spectacular!

CANCELLED...

I just want to say thank you and I'm sorry.

I recently got a new job and I'm back to full time hours, plus with most of the additional staff being college students, I'm filling in a lot more. I get up in the morning, I go to work, I come home, and I go to bed. That's about it. But the holiday Spectacular will be back in 2024, and it will be EPIC! I plan on finishing everything I planned for this year and adding many more. I love the holidays and writing about them makes me very happy, so here's to 2024 and all the places it will take us! I love you all!

-Ava

HO HO HO Merry Christmas!

Feliz Navidad!

Happy Hanukkah!

Happy Kwanzaa!

Season's Greetings!

No matter what holiday you celebrate, welcome to my Seasonal Writing Spectacular! I hope you love the holidays as much as I do!

This event will feature one-shots and maybe some head cannons, for all of the characters I write for. Feel free to send in requests for it as well! I don't have a posting schedule done for it yet, but I will be making one!

My characters are...

Harry Styles

Draco Malfoy/Tom Felton

Sebastian Sallow

Stefan Salvatore

Loki/Tom Hiddleston

Maybe more???

The first post will be for Harry Styles on December 6th!

Stay Tuned!

And HAPPY HOLIDAYS!

I'm not promising a story a day because hell the fuck no, I'm too busy for that, but we'll see where the winds take me!

Ava's Holiday Writing Spectacular Masterlist!

Ava's HWS Posting Schedule!

Ava's Main Masterlist

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youandtom2 · 2 years

Note

OMG YES to the sequel to Contraband AND YES to the little drabbles of soldier!Tom. I can't wait for this!!

EEEEEEEEEE I'm excited tooooooo fuck it here's one for you! Here's how I imagine firearm training would go with Sergeant Holland ;) *set during the contraband storyline*

Ready, Aim, Fire.

"For fuck sake," you quickly mumble to yourself, reloading your small pistol with yet another magazine of 17 rounds. There's a dirty smudge on the lens of your glasses, your headphones sit askew on your head and your uniform scratches even more than usual. It doesn't take the multiple missed bullet holes on the target to know that your head's not just quite in it today, and you don't know why.

The day has run on a little longer for you being the last soldier left in the firing range while the rest of your squadron left a little over half an hour ago. There's no one but you, a puddle of bullet shells by your feet, the wooden dummy and 45 meters of empty space separating you. Your heart is set on making the centre of the dummy's head your primary target; an immediate death shot in reality and you're stubborn enough to not leave until you do it. Just one bullet to the head, that's all.

You take your stance again, legs shoulder-width apart, two hands grappling the pistol with straight, sturdy arms, shoulders bracing to take the recoil. You line up your shot, your gun falling into a blur as your eyes focus on the wooden target at the far end of the range. A steady breath flows easily in and out your lungs as your finger curls around the trigger. You think you've got it this time...

"Too low."

A rumbling, critical voice appears behind you just as you shoot your shot, somehow managing to slot itself in between appearing just a fraction too late and soon enough to predict the outcome.

Fuck. Too low. And a little to the right. You barely hit the shoulder.

Blame it on him anyway.

"Well I would've gotten it if you hadn't thrown me off," you grumble, clicking the gun into safety and whipping around to meet Sergeant Holland who stands with his arms folded and leaning against the entrance of your cubicle. Uncharacteristically, he wears a simple blue, muscle-fit t-shirt paired with his cargo army trousers and sturdy boots. There's something about Sergeant Holland after training hours that always emanates attraction like never before.

Despite it, his expression falls flat with judgement, a challenging brow craning with just an ounce of annoyance at your tone. His eyes flit over to the wooden target meters from the firing range, noticing how the human-shaped target is riddled with charred coin-sized holes, a few magazines' worth at least. But none of fired shots tarnish the pristine wooden oval head.

"So you're not aiming for the head?"

"No, actually." Deny. Deny. Deny.

"No?" He knows you're lying.

"Nope."

"Then go ahead. Headshot. Between the eyes. Right now."

"I--"

"Is there a problem with that, soldier?"

The sincerity behind his tone has you conditioned to shake your head no, swallowing the heavy lump of guilt down and leaving behind a bitter taste of regret. Damn him. He knows fine well you can't make that shot.

Like before, you position yourself as close to the boundaries as the cubicle will allow you and with the sharp raise of your arms, you aim down the barrel of the gun with a feigned confidence, the oval head in your sights. Slowly, when you're almost certain you've got it right this time, your finger curls around the trigger and fires.

You hit the neck. Your closest shot yet. But not close enough.

Defeated, you begin to think it's an impossible shot. Perhaps you should be using a rifle from this distance...

"Your stance is all wrong, your hips aren't positioned correctly and you focus too much on the target that you barely pay attention to where you are pointing your gun."

Fuck off. "I don't think there's anything wrong with my stance, actually. The target is at 45 meters. Accuracy lessens with distance. It'd be pretty hard to aim--hey!"

Sergeant Holland, eyes rolling, snatches the pistol from your hands and assumes the position at the front of the cubicle, and without a moments hesitation, he fires one, two, three, four, five shots in quick succession, absorbing recoil like it is nothing. He barely blinks, barely stops to aim as each shot lands exactly like the last; directly between the eyes. He stands poised, stoic, unbothered by the sheer display of his own skill, one that you would literally kill to have and as much as he aggravates you, you would be lying to yourself if you said that him shooting those five rounds like that wasn't the hottest thing you've ever seen.

Steady, dark orbs find yours again, now twinkling with a certain arrogance he wears as plain as his uniform. You fucking hate it more than having missed hitting that headshot. "Show off."

"Like I said," he hands you back the gun which you take with a sulk. "Positioning."

You whip off your glasses and headphones in a huff. "Whatever. I'm done for the night."

"I haven't dismissed you yet, soldier." This man. "You're not finished here until you hit that target square between the eyes."

You're sure he can hear your teeth grinding together. "Yeah, well we're going to be here all night. I can't make the shot, okay? I can't do it."

"Is that the excuse you're going to make when you've been ordered to shoot and kill an enemy from the firing line? When there's miles of bombs, mines and traps ahead of you, what are you gonna do? Wait it out until one of you get closer? Get real, soldier, that's never going to happen, one of you will have to take the shot and I won't have you being the one falling to your own weaknesses. Not under my watch. Now, take that gun and make the shot."

The frustration is getting the better of you and your confidence is slipping. You hold his glare for just a second too long that it overwhelms the shame, and you cast your eyes downward at the cold, metal gun in your hands. He's right. As ever. You should be able to use this with the best of your ability at the very least. It seems so inconsequential now, but that won't be the case in a couple of years time when you're at the front line, staring death in the face at every turn.

"Sorry."

Wordlessly, he sidles behind you, slipping out of your sight to let the target take lead and with a sigh, you step forward and raise your arms, cramp slowly settling in.

"Lift your arms, they should be in a straight line at eye level--" His presence suddenly surrounds you. Standing directly behind you, his arms slither down the length of yours, teasing them upwards as he lowers himself to share your line of sight. He's so close to you that you could feel the intensity of his breath skimming over your ear just as easily as you can hear it. Yours wobbles the second his warm, earthy scent invades your sense of smell and replaces the burnt lead of empty bullets. He's so close.

"Your hips should be at a 45 degree angle, like this..." Those hands curl around your belted waist yet somehow squeeze even tighter, twisting you ever so slightly to your left. "And bring this leg back a little bit." His voice reduces to a whisper, salacious like the hand that sinks lower between your thighs, salacious like the small gasp in the back of your throat when his palm cups over your cunt and teases with a soft pressure, but no where near as devilish as his decision to divert his hand over the curve of your thigh, pushing it a step backwards.

"Now that you're relaxed..." His cheeks raises into a sinful smirk and it brushes against the heat of yours. "Find the target. Lock onto it."

Teeth sink nervously into your bottom lip. You're trying so hard to listen to his instructions but you're struggling to concentrate, especially when your mind is screaming obscenities about the way his body burns against you, the way his hands tug at your hips, the way your ass sweeps against his hips.

"Focus, soldier." He gently prompts. "Find the target."

Between the eyes. Between the eyes. Between your thighs--Between the eyes.

"Ready, aim, fire."

When you pull the trigger, your arms take the brunt of the recoil but a small percentage of it forces you back just a fraction closer to him. Promptly, you click on the safety before you truly take a look for yourself, and when you find another black, charred bullet hole just millimeters above Sergeant Holland's, your lips split into a smile. "Holy shit. I did it."

Soft lips press themselves tenderly against your cheek, his fingers squeezing with reassurance. "Well done, soldier. A little above where you were instructed to shoot but I'll allow it."

"I can never win with you, can I?"

"Hmm," he hums, softly chuckling. "Don't get ahead of yourself, soldier. You've still got a lot to learn."

"True, but can I at least tell the others I made that shot by myself when they come in tomorrow? Please? It's the only thing I have over them." He leans away ever so slightly with a smirk stretching across his lips and you twist in his arms with a hopeful glint to your eyes.

A strand of your hair gets swept away by his thumb, leaving behind the lingering buzz of a kiss to your forehead. "Don't push your luck."

#soldier!tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland fic #tom holland imagine #fluff #contraband #tom holland x reader #short fic #tom holland x you

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shrineofwill · 6 months

Text

#shrineofwill #musicians #jazz metal #love music #spotify #youtube #youtube shorts #spiderman #toby maguire #tom holland #andrew garfield #Spotify #sexy superhero

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voguescapes · 2 years

Text

love ya | t. holland

about. post leading up to yours and toms engagement

warnings. has one comment that refers sex lmk if i missed something

pairings. tom holland x fem!reader

fc. ariana grande

based off this ask

tomholland2013

liked by tchalamet and 5,737,003 others

tomholland2013 messy buns :)

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y/nfan32 i aspire to look like this when my hair is a mess 😫

tommyfan93 wait since when were they dating

y/nandtom4eva y/n has the cutest lil pout ever 🥺

y/i/n stop delete this ☹️

tomholland2013 sorry love but these are really adorable pictures and i wouldn’t want anyone to miss it!

tomhfan87 tom being active? nah this is a dream

timmyfanpage timothee liking this post is my way of knowing he’s still alive 🙏🏽🙏🏽

zendaya #makehimsleeponthecouch

y/i/n @tomholland2013 you’re sleeping on the couch tonight :)

harryholland64 finally there’s a barrier between you two rabbits 🙄

tomsnextgf tom can do better but okay 😌

y/i/n

liked by harrystyles and 4,196,594 others

y/i/n gn

comments on this post have been limited

courtneychipolne second photo 🥺🫶

zendaya angel captured on camera

nikkihollandphotography glad to be your mother in law ❤️

samholland1999 how did tom land you

harrystyles love you both

y/i/n added to their story!

enews

liked by taylorswift and 1,187,986 others

enews Y/F/N posted a picture on her Instagram story saying ‘love ya’ while her tatted right hand gives fans a glimpse of her stunning diamond engagement ring—and folks, it's absolutely breathtaking. The rock features a slanted oval cut diamond and white pearl on a seemingly white gold setting. (📸: y/i/n on Instagram)

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y/nfan37 i think that we were all able to see it on her story 😐

enews just doing my job 🙃

tom1y/n *doesn’t even bring up the significance of the pearl*

y/nloverr “wearing a ring but ain’t gon be no mrs” 🤔

iihearty/n her tattoos are fading :(

tomswife guess i’ll change my username… 😓

tessafanpage well ladies we really don’t stand a chance

inlovewithyou2 let’s be honest. we NEVER stood a chance with y/n in the picture

#arianator #tom holland x famous!reader #tom holland x singer!reader #marriage #instagram story #instagram #scenarios #short fiction #tom holland #timothee chalamet #txt smau #famous #afab reader #reader insert #x yn #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x actress!reader

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thatsmzbitchtoyou · 5 days

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Tasty- Chapter 1

A new short series for y'all! Mostly smut with plot. #sorrynotsorry ;) Also can we talk about how fucking cute Tom Holland is?? As much as I do have love for Toby McGuire and Andrew Garfield, Tom is my fave. Enjoy!

It was Peter’s 27th birthday. His coworkers from his job at The Daily Bugle took him out to a local bar that had dancing bar girls. It really wasn’t his kind of place, but he went along with it. It was nice to go out for fun for a change rather than on patrol as Spiderman. He drank the fifth drink shoved in his hand, the alcohol not doing a lot to his high metabolism thanks to the spider bite all those years ago. He could drink anyone in the bar under the table. As the night drew on and his coworkers became increasingly drunk he could feel a slight tipsy sensation edging his brain as they whooped and hollered at the bar girls dancing on the counter. He had a feeling like someone was watching him and turned, looking around the bar until his eyes met a pair of black eyes staring back at him.

He felt a jolt of his spider sense run through him, making him blink and when he looked at the eyes again they were no longer black but Y/C/E. Peter shook his head as he took in the rest of the figure. A woman, shorter than him by just a few inches, curvaceous, and a hunger in her eyes as she stared at him that made him feel excitement mixed with a strange sense of fear. She gave him a lopsided smile, a smirk that screamed danger, then licked her lips and bit her bottom lip as she gave him a long look up and down. He wasn’t always one to initiate a flirtatious encounter but felt an urge to go to her. Peter smirked back at her, shoving down the trepidation he felt and walked over to her. Happy Birthday to me, he thought smugly.

Peter approached her and leaned up against the wall she was standing by. “Hey,” he greeted her, hoping it sounded more ruggedly handsome than he thought.

“Hey,” she cooed back at him, her smirk deepening. “What’s your name, handsome?”

“Peter. What’s your name, beautiful?”

She giggled at his compliment. “Y/N,” she said, offering her hand out to him.

He shook her hand but didn’t let go of it, instead twisting his fingers so that he loosely held onto her fingers as he gazed at her. “You here alone, Y/N?”

“Yes,” she said, her fingers squeezing. “Looks like you're here with some buddies. Happy Birthday, by the way,” she turned her body to face him more.

“Oh, thanks,” Peter shrugged shyly.

“How old are you?” Y/N said as she took a small step toward him.

“27,” Peter’s eyes widened slightly as her face leaned towards him, the hand he was holding pulling his arm behind to her lower back and rested it at the top of her pants. “How old are you?”

“A lady never reveals her age,” Y/N winked at him, her hand now running up his arm and lingering on his neck for a moment before playing with the hair at the nape of his neck softly.

“Sure, but a lady needs to be of drinking age,” Peter said a little more seriously, not wanting to get in any trouble.

Y/N laughed at that, her laugh dancing around in his head, making him feel giddy. “Of course. I’m 33,” she said.

“You like slightly younger guys?” Peter asked, his eyes narrowing at her teasingly.

“Sometimes,” Y/N said as she looked up at him through her lashes. “You like slightly older women?”

“Love them,” Peter said as he leaned down, his nose gently bumping hers, making her smile widen. She set her drink down on a nearby table and her other hand looped around his neck with the other one, her nails giving his head a good scratch.

“Hm,” she hummed, her eyes darting from his eyes to his lips and back. “Can I give you a birthday present?”

“I love presents,” Peter said as he stared at her lips, his voice coming out as a husky grumble.

Y/N licked her lips again then pulled him down and kissed him. Peter’s hand at her back fisted into her shirt, pulling her body closer to his as he deepened the kiss. She blindly pushed him towards a dark part of the bar, turning so that he was pinning her against the corner of two walls. His hands gripped her hips as she opened her mouth for her tongue to lick along his bottom lip. He opened his mouth and tasted her back. The kiss became increasingly frenzied, tongues licking frantically and nipping and sucking each other’s lips. He moved to start kissing her neck but she stopped him and kissed his neck first, licking along his jugular roughly and sucking at it as her hands slid down his shoulders, one stopping at his upper back to keep him close and the other roaming down to his pants.

She slipped her fingers past his belt and under his underwear, her fingers grasping his cock and slowly pumping his shaft. Peter almost buckled, his hands plastering against the walls to keep himself upright. As she continued to stroke him she moved her lips back up to his mouth, lewdly kissing him then sucking on his tongue at the same speed she was stroking his cock.

Peter moaned loudly, his breathing erratic. When she let go of his tongue he gritted his teeth and his hand dipped into his pants to stop her. “Fuck, if you keep doing that I’m gonna cum.”

Y/N giggled. “That’s kinda the point.”

“Not here,” Peter said, his eyes sweeping around them to make sure no one was looking.

“Your place or mine?” she asked, her tongue licking along his neck again.

Peter quickly pulled her outside and hailed a cab. He gave the driver his address then turned to Y/N who was already pawing at him to pull him close again. They made out in the cab, the driver turning the radio up louder so he couldn’t hear their moans or panting breaths. As soon as the cab pulled up at Peter’s apartment complex he threw some bills at the driver then nearly ripped Y/N out of the car and towards the door. They made out again in the lobby, the elevator, through the hallway until he was finally able to get his door unlocked. Once he had closed it behind them he pushed her towards his bedroom, her hands pulling his shirt off. They reached the bed and she pushed him down onto it first. “Sit against the headboard, handsome,” she instructed him. He quickly obeyed and moved himself up against the pillows. “Good boy,” she praised him, cocking an eyebrow at him. She slowly removed her shirt, revealing a lacy, bright red push-up bra. Peter groaned at the sight. She then pulled her pants down to reveal the matching lacy bottoms, her thighs jiggling as she got on the bed and started to crawl towards him.

“You smell so good, you know that?” Y/N whispered as she pulled his pants and underwear off.

“Holy shit,” Peter whimpered as she laid down in between his legs. Her hand returned to his cock, slowly stroking him again.

“I just wanna taste,” she glanced up at him, then licked the tip of his cock slowly. Peter’s head fell back against the headboard, his hands gripping the blanket beneath him. She wrapped her lips around the head of his cock and started slowly sucking him, her tongue licking around him as she bobbed her head up and down on him. Peter had never been given such good head before. His hips trembled as her fingers dug into his thighs, her head and mouth doing all the work. She sunk her head down so far that he hit the back of her mouth and instead of gagging she just swallowed, the tip dipping down into her throat. Peter shook, a deep moan falling past his lips.

“FUCK, how did you…ungh,” Peter whined as she pulled back up and gave him a hard suck before popping her lips off of him.

“Got your blood rushing,” Y/N sighed as she straddled his lap, her clothed pussy grinding down on his cock slowly. “Feel good, handsome?”

“So good…so good Y/N, God,” Peter gripped her hips, helping her grind against him.

Her hands slid up his torso, giving his nipples playful flicks and tweaks that made him rut up against her. She kissed him again, her tongue entangling with his again and giving it another suck as her hands then ran down his arms, pulling his wrists behind his back slowly. “I can smell you…best thing I’ve smelled in a long time,” Y/N licked along the side of his mouth and down to his neck. “Gonna taste you…you bloody tease,” she moaned as she sucked along his jugular again.

A part of Peter’s brain was screaming at him that something was wrong, the way she was talking about him smelling good was weird and abnormal, but his cock felt so good being rubbed by her underwear, her own wet arousal seeping through her panties onto him making his eyes roll back in his head. One of her hands tightened around his wrists to keep his arms back, her other hand coming up to grip the back of his neck and pulling it further to the side. “You gonna cum for me, handsome?” She sniffed him as he nodded, his hips trying to thrust up into her harder. “Cum for me,” her voice suddenly changed, a deep resonant command filling his head and making him feel more aroused than he had ever felt in his entire life. It made him desperate as he felt his balls tighten and he tensed before his cum spurted onto her hips and his stomach.

Y/N suddenly hissed and bit him. Peter’s mind short circuited. The confusing mix of pleasure and pain made him jerk against her, his hands trying to pull out of her hold but her grip was unyielding. His desperate moan as he came morphed into a yelp and grunt as he felt her teeth sink into his neck and she sucked at the vein. His spider senses kicked into overdrive, making him panic as he tried to fight her off. Y/N moaned deeply as she sucked from him, her hand at the back of his head almost ripping at his hair to keep him still as she drank from him. Peter squirmed until he could feel himself start to get tired, his eyes fluttering as his strength depleted slowly.

“What the hell…?” he mumbled as the fight in him gave up. His body slumped against the headboard. His vision slowly blackened, the sound of her heavy breathing becoming distant until he was gone.

#marvel #smut #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x reader #vampire!reader #spiderman #spiderman x reader #vampire #short series #chapter 1 #tom holland #curvy reader #peter parker x curvy!reader #spiderman x curvy!reader

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siennafrxst · 1 year

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↳ a snowy night 𖤐𓈒࣪₊˚

pairing: peter parker x female reader

word count: 0.6k words

cw: fluff, slight angst(?)

a/n: again, as I’ve said previously, this fanfic works with any of the peters (tobey, andrew, or tom) so feel free to choose whichever you want to imagine this story with.

Peter and Y/N are strolling along the path on a cold December night. The frigid atmosphere embrace them soothingly as a gush of cold wind hits them. Snowflakes fall unto their rosy cheeks along with the calming silence being filled by their snowy footsteps. They were heading back home after their fun day spent together... as friends.

"Hey, thanks for today. I had a lot of fun."

Y/N turns towards Peter, grinning at those words. "No problem, I did too."

Peter returns a similar smile as they continue to walk closer to their destination.

"I'm curious—what was your favorite part of today?"

He turns his head towards her, recalling the events of today. "Hmm... definitely eating dinner. God, the steak was heavenly."

Y/N raises an eyebrow at him accusingly. "Oh, really? I thought you'd say that it was when we played in the arcade, but if you say so."

"Excuse me?"

"What? I saw how thrilled you were every time you managed to score a point in the basketball game."

Peter sighes in defeat. "Alright, fine. But you definitely enjoyed it much more than I did. You took soooo long at the karaoke station."

She scoffs at him in disbelief. "Need I remind you that you enjoyed it as much as I did. You sang your heart out in every single song and you cannot tell me otherwise."

Rolling his eyes, he sighes exasperatingly once more. "Fine, let's just both agree that karaoke was the highlight of our day. Deal?"

She chuckles softly as she nods at his question. "Deal."

They continue to walk their way towards home, both content yet exhausted from their little date today. But unlike most days, this particular one felt... different. And they both knew it. The tension seemed more intimate. The way their eyes connected was an unexplainable euphoria. The way they acted around each other was... new. It was refreshing for either of them.

Similar thoughts were trailing through Y/N’s head, and she decided to act upon it. She suddenly stops in their tracks, catching Peter off-guard.

"Y/N, what are you doing?"

Her eyes darted across his coffee-colored ones. Goddamn, since when were they so stunning? Unsure with what was going on with her, she lets herself get lost in his eyes, seeming as though they were calling out to her like an infinite abyss.

"Hey, you good over there?"

Snapping out of that 'unusual trance', she blinks multiple times in an attempt to bring herself back to reality. "Sorry, I just... sorry. Look, I think I need to tell you something."

Peter freezes. Was she going to say what he think she's going to? No, don't be ridiculous, this is just a small crush. It'll pass over time. Besides, what if he loses one of his only friends over a stupid gamble?

"What is it?"

"Do you notice the same things I do? The same feelings I've... gained?"

"You're going to have to explain a lot more than that," he says, even though he knew exactly what she was talking about.

She should've realized that the next words to fall out of her mouth may have been a ruthless mistake. "Cut the bullshit. Our relationship has changed over the past few weeks and you know it. I know it. Goddamnit, Pete, we’ve known each other for so long and yet these past few days have been messing with my head. Why can't we just-"

Cutting her off, he suddenly leaned in and attached their lips, causing her to gasp. As she loosened at his touch, she allowed herself to melt into him. It was almost as though their lips connected together perfectly, like a missing puzzle piece. Her delicate hands found their way to his shoulders, gripping onto them as though it was their last day.

fun fact: this was originally a bucky x reader fanfic, but I noticed that my peter fics were gaining more attention so I just replaced their names. 😭

likes and reblogs are vv appreciated.

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