#gasp they came back with more textposts

[ineffablelvrs]

[uglypastels]

What about Tom getting in a serious (car/stunt/...) accident and the reader being a Paramedic and the first one he sees when he wakes up in the ambulance? Thanking her for everything later when his injuries have healed a bit. Love your style of writing girl!💗

aaaaaww thank you so much ❤❤ 

I just wrote so much angst that I can’t hurt my boi Tom any more (at least not this seriously). I hope this is still good. 

______________________________________

“Cut!” Tom could make out the director’s voice just about in his suit. He was about to turn around when his face came in contact with something hard. “Oh shit, I’m so-” was the last thing he heard before a loud ringing echoed through his whole head and his vision, already blurred by the spider-man mask, was spinning around. 

He stumbled backward, falling on a safety mat that stood behind him. The soft material hit his head and added to the pain he felt. He groaned as he tried to take the red material off, but every time there was even a lightest move around, a shot of pain rushed through him. 

Then he felt the mattress shift next to him. He had his eyes closed, not that it changed much. He felt a hand rub up and down his arm as another tinkered with the intricate zipper of the suit. The tension of it was released and the mask loosened around his face. the hand on his arm let go to take the costume off of him. The moment he didn’t feel the lycra on him anymore, he heard a collective gasp around him.  

“Okay, okay, give him some space.” The voice was harsh but Tom still felt secure listening to it. He opened his eyes just in time to see the people around him, including his brother, Jon and a few stunt doubles, leave. He looked to the right and was met with a pair of blurry (y/e/c) eyes. 

“Hey Tommy,” Her voice was gentle again. Tom smiled, knowing that it was only him she ever talked to like that. She looked away to open the first aid kit. “Jeff took you out properly huh?” 

“I guess so.” he felt something wet on his lip and went to wipe it off, but she stopped him. 

“Wait.” she got up from her place next to him and a bright light shined into his eyes. He groaned again but kept his eyes open. The light went from left to right and he followed it instinctively. When it turned off with a click he had to blink a few times. A white smudge stained his vision for a few seconds. 

“Okay, tell me, are you feeling dizzy, nauseous, sick or anything like that?” 

“No, I don’t think so?” 

“Does your head hurt?” 

“Well, yeah, I just got punched in the face.” He chuckled. that wasn’t a good idea because soon another shot of pain went through the bridge of his nose. 

“Easy there, let’s get you cleaned up a bit, huh, pretty boy?” She took a little cotton swipe and started to gently press against his upper lip and under his nose. Tom tried not to move but everytime she pressed a bit too hard he flinched. 

“Shh, it’s okay.” She cooed. He saw her exchange the cotton swipe for a new one, the old one now completely covered in blood. “Although maybe not.” 

“Is it broken again?” She just sighed and he knew the answer was yes. 

“I don’t think it’s necessarily broken, but it will definitely bruise badly.” 

“Then it’s not that- ow!” 

“Sorry.” she patted his nose to get the last remains of blood off. then she started to pull out the role of white band-aid. With the expert attention, she took care of his not-exactly-broken nose. Right when she was done, a set assistant ran up with a gigantic ice-pack. Tom took it from the girl and put it against his nose. It hurt but the pain soon was soothed by the cold. 

“How you feeling?” She asked, still sitting in front of him on her knees. 

“Good, but a kiss to make it better wouldn’t hurt.” He winked. She rolled her eyes. 

“In your dreams, Holland.” He was glad to see her smile. He loved her smile. 

She started to put all her equipment back into the red case. Tom looked at her in amazement. She really looked good in that black shirt. 

“Well, be careful next time, okay?” 

“I’ll try.” he waved her off as she walked away, shaking her head. Not a minute later Harry walked up and sat down beside him. 

“Bro. A kiss to make it better? Really? That was so pathetic.” He laughed. Tom pushed his brother off the mattress, still holding the ice pack to his face. It was worth the shot. 

“What are you even doing? Are you planning on breaking every single bone in your body before asking her out or what?” 

The End 

tagging, because why not: @thelazypangolin @andwhatdostarsdobest @tomhollanders2013@spiderrrling @tom-holland-and-textposts @merryspidermas @lovelyspidey@hazsterfield @hey-its-grey @peterrrparkour @peter-parker-life@nerdraging4point0  @tominachristmasjumper @theprincesofasgard @winterwondholland

[tommyparkerr]

Something New | Peter Parker x Reader

This is it, guys! THIS IS THE FIC FOR MY 500 CELEBRATION GIVEAWAY! If you have no idea what that is or how it works but you want to enter, please see this post! And if you have no idea who I am and are just looking for some fanfic with no strings attached but still want to like/reblog without being entered, let me know! No harm done :) Either way, enjoy!

Prompt: “Is that me as your phone screen?”

Words: 1.2k

Warnings: Good old fashioned fluff

-Masterlist-

S O M E T H I N G  N E W :

“The popcorn’s gone!”

“What did you expect when you kept eating it nonstop? I think I got four pieces total in the whole bag!”

You scoffed. “Be quiet, Parker. You can’t prove anything.”

Peter rose an eyebrow and plucked your hand up, gesturing to the obviously messy palm covered in butter and salt. “That’s all the proof I need.”

You gasped dramatically and placed the buttery hand over your heart. Peter cringed at the sight of the grease transferring onto your shirt, even though it was old and used for pajamas only. “How dare you call me fat!”

You immediately got the reaction you wanted, Peter’s cheeks flushing a deep red and his lips barely parting as he stuttered to reject your proclamation. After a few minutes of watching him hopelessly search for words you decided to put him out of his misery.

“Pete, I’m just kidding,” you laughed, patting his cheek with your non-greasy hand. He scowled at you, pushing your hand away and looking embarrassed. “Oh, c’mon, it was funny!”

“Not cool,” he mumbled unhappily.

“Would it make you feel better if I made another bag of popcorn?”

“Why? So I can get another four pieces?”

You hummed and rested your chin on your hand as if contemplating something. After a few moments you said,  “It’ll be a sacrifice, but just because you’re my bestest friend in the whole wide world, I’ll let you have five whole pieces.”

The corners of Peter’s lips twitched upward. “Deal.”

You shook on it, a grin on both of your faces as you stood and went back to your kitchen to find another bag. When it was ready and you’d successfully burned your tongue from prematurely stuffing the kernels in your mouth, you plopped back on the floor next to Peter and handed him exactly five pieces. He only rolled his eyes as he pushed them in his mouth.

“So, are we gonna play the movie or what?”

Peter scrambled to find the remote, which ended up being under his leg. He pushed play and the sounds of clashing lightsabers and the heavy breathing of Darth Vader filled the room again, along with your enthusiastic crunching.

Peter sneaked a hand into the popcorn bowl a few more times but you didn’t bother to stop him; if you were being honest you were getting full, and with that came the lack of energy to protest. You used a napkin to wipe off your hands this time instead of your T-shirt, knowing it was painful for him to watch you stain a ‘perfectly good shirt’—even one that no one but you, your family, and Peter would ever see you wearing outside of the comfort of your own home.

Pretty soon you grabbed a blanket and wrapped yourself up in it, laying on the floor and placing your head in Peter’s lap. His hand habitually went to your hair, tugging comfortably at the strands as he ran his fingers through it. You drifted off soon after that, snuggling further into the warmth that was your best friend.

XxX

The shrill ringing of the bell pulled you out of your daydreaming, signaling that it was time to get to your next class. You sighed in relief. You had chemistry next period with Peter which meant you wouldn’t be completely bored out of your mind like you were for your last class. You shuddered. English.

Making your way through the crowded hall and loud people, you finally made it to Peter’s locker where Ned was already waiting.

“Hey, Y/N!” he greeted with a small wave.

“Hey, Ned!” you exclaimed, looking him up and down. “You’re feeling better, I take it?”

“Yeah, I think I just had the 24 hour stuff,” he answered with his nose turned up in distaste. “It sucked that I had to miss a movie night.”

You shrugged. “You didn’t miss much. Peter ate all the popcorn anyway.”

“Did not!”

You giggled at the sound of Peter’s affronted voice. “You have no proof!”

He opened his mouth to rebut your statement and glared at you when he realized he really didn’t have any proof. Ned looked unsure who to believe, but you didn’t dare clarify. Not after you’d gotten Peter to kind of, sort of (not really) admit it.

“Let’s just get to class,” Peter said instead, grabbing the necessities from his locker before shutting it with a bang. He didn’t miss the opportunity to flick you as he went to talk to Ned, who was already on his way to chemistry.

You were about to go and catch up with them when you saw Peter’s phone fall out of his book bag and onto the floor. You rushed to pick it up and prayed nothing was scratched or broken; you knew May couldn’t afford to repair it or get Peter a new one if it was, and his phone was a necessity. You breathed a sigh of relief when all the screen had on it was a little dust.

“Hey, Pete!” you called as you hurried to catch up with him. “You dropped this!” You pulled the sleeve of your shirt over your hand and went to wipe the dust off before you gave it back to Peter, but as you did his phone turned on and a picture of you filled the screen—a picture of you wrapped up in your favorite blanket, wearing your popcorn-stained tee, sleeping on Peter’s lap.

“Oh, thanks!” Peter replied as he turned. His eyes popped when he saw what you were looking at, and he ditched Ned’s side in a hurry in order to get to you. He scrambled for the phone and shoved it in his jeans pocket, his face burning a fiery shade of red.

“Is that me as your phone screen?” you asked despite having seen it yourself and knowing full well that it was.

“Um, yeah. It-it is,” Peter audibly stuttered, scratching the back of his neck. “But I wasn’t trying to, you know, be-be creepy or anything. I just—you looked really pretty and happy and-and I don’t know, I just wanted to take a picture. If you don’t want me to have it, I-I can delete it, if you-if you want.”

A small smile appeared on your face and your cheeks warmed. Your stomach was fluttering again, much like it had been as of recent whenever you were around Peter.

You shook your head and took hold of Peter’s shaking hand, squeezing it in yours. “I don’t mind,” you quietly admitted as you pushed a stray piece of hair behind your ear, your face quickly reaching the level of red that your best friend’s was at. “It’s kinda cute, actually.”

A matching smile painted itself onto Peter’s face. He didn’t have anything better to respond with so he simply stayed silent, letting your smiles do the talking as he walked you to class, fingers intertwined and hands lightly swinging back and forth.

You didn’t know what the butterflies or red faces or racing hearts or hand holding really meant yet, but you did know they all had to do with your best friend. And as long as Peter was beside you, you were willing to figure it out. Together.

Just like you always had.

XxX

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Let me know if you’d like to be added! 💕

[gilliansanderson]

42 from those writing prompts! 😊

A/N: Sorry this took so long, I was initially planning something a bit more original, but then I was inspired by This textpost at 4am and hey. when it happens it happens. @today-in-fic

It was quiet in the car. It was a comfortable quiet. They were comfortable being quiet, it was how they processed the inevitable. The radio crackled and screeched in search of a signal, it reminded Mulder of when they’d lost nine minutes, they’d gotten soaked, he’d marked the ground with an X. We Were Here. He’d screamed it at the sky. Mulder turned it off in frustration so all that was left to fill the silence was the rhythmic pounding of the rain against the roof. The windshield wipers worked back and forth, a metronome ticking away their precious seconds. Scully’s eyes shifted beneath her eyelids, as she pretended she could sleep. It was nine minutes to the hospital. He reached over to thread his fingers through hers. She only barely squeezed back.

It was quiet in the waiting room. It was a solemn, painful quiet. A kid whimpered over a shattered knee, a teenager with his head in a bucket, an elderly couple with watery eyes, arms interlinked and a newspaper spread over both their knees. And them. They looked out of place in their rumpled business suits. They had been here seven years ago, questioning and accusing, young and wry and badly dressed. Cutting up a monkey corpse and cutting into each other. They were better stocked, with a better lab. Scully’s results were due within minutes. Her hand stilled his as he picked at the broken seam of his blazer, but he could feel her trembling.

“It’s going to be fine,” she whispered, unconvincingly. Mulder breathed deeply through his nose and pressed his lips to the centre of her forehead, and prayed to a god he didn’t believe in that she might be right. The nurse called Scully’s name, they both stood up.

It was quiet in the doctor’s office, but his thoughts were loud and overwhelming, the walls feel tight around them. The doctor’s name was Poppy Green, she looked barely out of high school. She brimmed with nervous energy as she handed Scully her results. “You’re an experienced medical professional, Doctor Scully, so I don’t doubt you’ll understand the numbers,” Mulder didn’t dare to breathe as she read. He didn’t notice when the doctor slipped out the door. Scully went stiff beside him, her eyes glassy, he felt the edge crumble at his feet. “Mulder,” finally, came her strangled gasp. What did she need? Air, water, fire to burn the earth with? “I need a hug”

He obliged, god, did he oblige. She shook in his arms and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to let her go. Not if the cancer was-

“I’m pregnant,”

His brain seemed to stutter and stop. He realised, as he finally let out that breath, she was laughing. And crying. Laugh crying. And so was he. He realised there were no words which existed to express what he was feeling. So they were quiet.

[zombiemaids]

reflecting.

2017 was certainly a very strange year. i started in the same place i’d been for the past four years, and changed to the person i’d finally wanted to become in the last three months. i was in a lot of confusion and a lot of pain this year - i like to think of it as my final year of finding myself, and potentially a quarter-life crisis. i was very callous and very cruel throughout a good portion of this year to people i cared about deeply, and later tried to fix this... it wasn’t successful, and i had to end a very long friendship to improve myself.

it’s been a year of reflection, and a year of improvement, and a year of change overall. i found out who i am, what i wanted, what i liked and what i hated. i made peace with myself and learned a lot. i believe that everyone has the tools and the ability to become the person that they want to be, but that sometimes these tools are bad, and that holds people back. one of the main lessons i learned this year is that if you want to improve, you sometimes will have to make painful or frightening choices, but it will pay off.

i have met some amazing people this year. honourable mentions ahead:

@teatime-on-tatooine - my wife. kee, you are an angel. there is no other way to put it. you are sweet, kind, funny, so enthusiastic, and so full of love for the world and those around you. the highlight of my year was becoming your best friend, and i hope we have many more years together. don’t forget to whack your apples in the blender.

@vampireslayr - erin, you are one of the smartest and sassiest people i have came across. your lack of a filter makes me gasp/laugh/snort my orange juice out of my nose and your sheer bubbling love and enthusiasm for those you love makes me believe in romance. you are one of the first people i go to to confide in. you are going to get everything good coming to you very soon, i know it. i love you.

@thotstetter - li! even though our conversations are spotty, they are the high points of my week. you are an incredibly talented writer and artist, and i feel so blessed to be able to see what you create. your humour is so absurd and different and i absolutely love it. keep making coldplay jokes.

@cezulian - cezu. your headcanons and textposts and writing is some of the highest-quality and well thought out work i have ever came across. you understand everything so well and in such a wise way, and are always there to quell a too-serious atmosphere with a joke or a quip. i love your cats, i love your talent, i love reading and replying to your writing - you keep me on my toes, and i feel so comfortable around you.

@pleasantscreams - pleasant, talking to you is the best. i love it when we discuss headcanons, i love it when we bitch about movies, i love it when we talk about life in general. you know so much and have such a calming presence, and your writing is impeccable both on tumblr and ao3. i eagerly await that it remake.

2017 was certainly a wild year. here’s hoping 2018 is wild in a good way.

[alexciting-blog1]

Storytime!

okay so I rarely make my own textposts, but then, up to this year, I didn’t really have any good stories to tell...

So earlier this year, I was on a religious retreat at the Mont Saint Michel with my Catholic-as-fuck private French school. Everything had been going all right, it had been a couple of weeks since the priest had done anything particularly offensive (such as tell the girls that we would all be pregnant within a decade and that it was inevitable as we are essentially baby-making machines, or imitating French Créole accents in the most patronizingly racist manner, or making fun of Muslims, but I digress)

Anyway. So we get back from the beach, there’s little less than a hundred of us, and to my dismay, they’ve separated the boys and the girls dorm buildings. Like, instead of putting us into separate dorms within the same building, the boys are staying a block away. Which means they have to walk a whole block to see us. Which sucks. Still not on topic though.

So they hand out these booklets, which have prayers and songs and biblical excerpts ect in them, and we stick them in our bags. It’s only a couple hours later, until I actually flip through them, that I gasp in utter horror.

There was a badly translated Pope speech, to which two pages of the booklet were dedicated. One of the paragraphs was useless to the point of the speech, but it had the most transphobic bullshit in it, that I’m absolutely sure is due to liberties taken by the translator. (Talking about the abomination of gender studies and teachings, and how people can’t just “change genders” yada yada “I hate social progress” bullshit)

I got super pissed. I crossed out the offensive paragraph, and wrote “les droits des personnes trans sont une urgence” in next to it (a chant that resonated at Paris Pride 2016, “Trans people’s rights are an emergency”). I was ranting about it through dinner, and through mass (although quietly because duh, mass), and this one teacher seemed pretty supportive and open-minded, so some of my faith in humanity was restored.

I went up to my dorm, grabbed a pen and paper, and wrote a petition for my LGBTQIA+ Parisian youth association (MAG) to come give one of their IMSs, Intervention en Milieu Scolaire, which translates to school intervention, I guess. The mag does these regularly; they go to schools and talk about homophobia, lesbophobia, biphobia, transphobia, and inclusivity. 

After that, I went down to the courtyard, and started asking people to sign. Over the next few days of the trip, I kept asking people to sign. The teacher didn’t want to get implicated in it, which saddened me, but she had encouraged me to speak up against it in the first place, and she continued doing that. 

Of course, in this school, during my signature collection, I witnessed a lot of very saddening displays of transphobia, but that didn’t stop me. 

Over the course of a week, I had gathered 52 student signatures, out of a class of less than a hundred. Most people I had talked to were uneducated about the issue, but very open-minded about hearing more about it and interested in my explanations. I got a lot of smiles, nods, pats on the back, and “good luck”s from people of whom I least expected it.

Once I reached my goal, I started doing research into whether it was possible to make it easier for the catholic administration to swallow, and found a bunch of french articles about the Pope talking to a trans man, even though most of them were ultra transphobic (which is why I’m not linking them), the actual Pope himself was very civil, open-minded, and never said a thing against the transgender community.

It’s kind of the same phenomenon as when something is great, or ok, but the fandom sucks. I found one website that was very Catholic and very open to trans issues, but sadly I’ve lost the link.

I then talked to the guy in charge of MAG IMSs, and gave him contact access to the people who would deal with administration at my school.

After a couple days of nervously having the petition and offensive booklet in my backpack, I finally went to hand it in, with a good friend for moral support.

I was terrified and numb while handing it in; the rest of the day, I was twisting my hands thinking “what have I done, what have I done, what have I done”

A few days later, my father (who is on the school board) came home after a meeting and asked me to sit down.

He told me that the principal had slid him the petition to him during the meeting quietly, and said “look what your daughter has been doing”

I might want to add that between the trip and that moment, I had been voted class delegate, which means that I was the one to attend meetings in the name of my class, and represent them, as well as meet with the principal on a regular basis to discuss issues.

He already knew me on a first name basis for several reasons. During my internship, there had been awkward moments when I ran into him at the bakery, he would strike up a conversation, and I would have to introduce him to my colleagues (”Hi guys! This is my principal. No pressure”)

So he had to talk to my father, explaining that it was impossible for the IMS to happen, because half of the school’s parents were ultra-Catholics who don’t believe in contraception and would pull their kids, money, and good name out.

Just a couple years ago, when same-sex marriage was legalized in France, there was a huge parent fight between my best friend’s mom (who is a professor in some kind of anti-discrimination class, maybe gender-equality, not sure) and the mega-Catholics which exploded dramatically.

His exact words were “this is how a principal gets fired”.

My dad told me that there was no way it was going to happen, and he agreed with me in my hysteric breakdown that “it wasn’t fair and that the dumb conservatives were ruining the world”. He admitted later in a conversation with my mom’s friend that he was “secretly proud of me for doing it”. 

So all I got, for all of that trouble, was a speech during the next mass: “look around you, look at the diversity, the different people from different heritages” yeah because it’s illegal to not admit a student based on their race, congratulations for being within the law and not being a total discriminatory piece of shit, do you want a cookie?

Oh and then the priest wanted to “speak to me privately” but I kept blowing him off and he kept forgetting because he’s a senile idiot, so he never even got to lecture me, yay!

So yeah. What I got out of this ordeal is that most of my classmates are decent people and that my parents are supportive. But the world is still going to shit. yay!

[tommyparkerr]

Not so Scary | Peter Parker x Reader

I got another request done! Now I just have one left from the prompt list I posted AGES ago and two in my inbox! I’m really excited to write them, but don’t be expecting them to come out anytime real soon...I’m uber busy, loves. But I’ll write whenever I can!!

Requested by @hollandandi : “hey! here’s a request for your plane ride! maybe something along the lines of peter or tom coming home late from a mission/work and you’ve been up watching scary movies for hours with Tess - when he gets home, you are so on edge from the films that you grab something to protect yourself (like a lamp) and hide behind the door, ready to pounce? lol something like that? maybe you even hit him accidentally and then take care of him? something fluffy! thanks and have a safe flight🧠💓”

Words: 1.4k

Warnings: Mentions of blood, F L U F F

-Masterlist-

N O T S O S C A R Y :

You’d been home alone all day. Peter had said something about Mr. Stark needing him for a mission of some sorts, and he assured you that it wasn’t anything too dangerous and that he’d be careful before leaving, but you were still anxious. Tony rarely, if ever, called Peter to help with a mission unless he absolutely had to, so either he had been lying when he told Peter it wasn’t that dangerous or Peter was lying when he told you Tony had said such a thing; you didn’t particularly like either side of that coin.

Obviously you were racked with worry and stress as soon as Peter was gone, so what did you do? You had a marathon of horror films.

Not the smartest idea you’d ever had. But then again, you usually left the smarts to Peter.

It was dark out now. Peter still hadn’t returned home and your nerves had risen to an insane state. Your hands were nearly trembling as they clutched Captain. Captain didn’t seem to mind, though, as she seemed just as scared and desperate for comfort as you—she’d been watching the films with you. The white ball of fluff whined and barked when you cuddled her closer in anticipation of the next scene, almost as if she could sense what was coming too.

Within the silence you heard a scratch resonate from your bedroom, followed closely by a slow screech. Captain looked nervous, and that alone was enough for you to pause the movie, hop up, and grab the nearest object to you to use as a weapon—which just so happened to be the only lamp in your apartment. But you doubted Peter would mind if you broke it saving yourself.

Slowly you and Captain crept to the bedroom door and waited. Blood was pumping through your veins, the sound of it rushing through your ears and blocking out all other noise. A shadow walked out just as you got close to the room and you faintly heard Captain barking as you reached up and swung the lamp over the top of the figure.

There was a heavy thud as it hit its mark and then a groan. Captain was going crazy now, jumping up and down but sticking to your side all the same. You went to hit the shadow again but it suddenly caught your hand midair, making you shriek in fright. Captain went for the bite as soon as she heard you scream, attaching her jaw the best she could to the intruder’s leg.

“Ow! Captain, it’s me! C’mon girl, get off now! You don’t have to protect Y/N from me!”

“Peter?” you gasped.

“Who else would it be?” he exclaimed, dropping your wrist.

You set the lamp down and fumbled to find the light switch. When you did, you saw that Peter had already taken the suit off and was currently dressed in a long sleeved shirt and boxers. He had lots of yellowish bruises and blood was caked around his nose, but it was old and dried already, making you thank the heavens once more for Peter’s healing factor.

You practically leaped into his arms, making him stumble.

“I mean, it’s good to see you too, but what’s with the change of heart? Just a few moments ago you were trying to kill me.”

You shook your head and clutched him tighter. “Did I hurt you?” you mumbled.

“No more than I already am,” he chuckled. When you didn’t let go within a few minutes and didn’t look like you were planning to anytime soon, he softly said, “I need to clean up, baby.”

“Yeah, you stink,” you agreed.

His giggle rumbled through his chest. “Then why are you still holding on?”

“Because I was worried,” you admitted. “You never disappear for that long without checking in.”

Peter sighed and brushed his hand over your hair. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to worry you like that. But I’m here now, see? I’m okay.”

You exhaled and nodded, hesitantly stepping out of his grasp. Captain whined and nuzzled against Peter, kind of like she was saying, Sorry for trying to bite your leg off.

“As much as I admire your courage, Cap, you’re gonna have to wait until you’re a little bigger to do any real damage,” Peter cooed, lifting the puppy up and accepting her barrage of kisses. He smiled and handed her to you, giving you both kisses before heading back to take a shower.

You debated waiting right there for him, but you took a look at the bent and broken lamp and winced, knowing you had to have hurt him more than he was willing to admit. You put Captain down and let her follow you into the kitchen where you grabbed an ice pack. You immediately dropped it at the pain that ran up your hand and groaned when you saw the blood running down your palm; the adrenaline from earlier must have been numbing the pain while it lasted.

You picked up the ice pack with your uninjured hand and set it on the counter before going to the sink and running the cold water over your bloody hand. When the blood washed away you were relieved to see that the cuts didn’t look too deep and that no glass shards seemed to have stuck in your skin.

“Hey, Peter?” you yelled when the shower water turned off.

“Yeah?” he called back.

“Can you bring a couple band aids when you come out?”

He didn’t reply after that, and you only had to wait a few moments before he was stumbling out, his hair dripping water on the floor and his clothes sticking to his wet skin. His eyes went wide when he saw the blood smeared on the ice pack and he looked panicky.

“I’m fine, Pete,” you assured him. “It’s just a little blood. I cut myself when I hit you with the lamp.”

He didn’t respond, only turning the sink off, taking your hand, and carefully inspecting it. “Does it hurt?” he quietly asked.

“It stings a little, but that’s it. It’s nothing really. I’m fine.”

He gave you a look before unwrapping the band aids he brought and caringly placing them over the cuts. You kissed his cheek as a thank you before grabbing the forgotten ice pack, rinsing the blood off, and putting it on the back of Peter’s head. He didn’t fight you on this, going with you when you led him back to the living room and cuddled up to him on the couch. He adjusted the both of you until you were comfortably leaning back against his chest and a blanket was keeping your bodies warm. Captain eagerly jumped up when you stopped wiggling and slipped her way into your lap, circling a few times before plopping down.

Peter started to laugh when you pushed play on the remote, letting the eerie music fill the room again. “No wonder you were so jumpy!” You shrugged as you pet the yellow lab in front of you and turned your head to rest over Peter’s heart. The steady thumping calmed you. “You should really stop watching these, Y/N,” he said more quiet this time, his voice concerned.

“They entertain me. Scare me enough to keep me awake.”

“They also make you hit me in the back of the head with our only lamp and cut your hand from the impact.”

“Which is entertaining.”

You could practically hear Peter roll his eyes, but he silenced so you could continue watching the movie anyway. Captain fell asleep, probably as comforted as you by the presence of Peter and your much calmer persona. Pretty soon you started to drift off too, and you turned away from the tv to snuggle further into your boyfriend’s chest. His other hand came around you now, the coldness from the ice pack seeping through your sweatshirt.

“Scare you enough to keep you awake, huh?” Peter teased, rubbing your back.

You hummed, closing your eyes. “S’not so scary when I’m with you,” you mumbled.

Peter held you tighter and kissed your head. “Go to sleep, Y/N. We can spend tomorrow doing whatever you want since I was gone today, but for now, sleep. I love you.”

The words were on the tip of your tongue, the I love you, too, but they never made it past your lips before the world went quiet and you slipped into the darkness awaiting you.

XxX

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