#peter parker x native!reader

[navisakura]

Is anyone else pleasantly surprised at the sheer amount of black, latino and other poc!reader fics that have come out of the ATSV fandom? Like it’s normally so rare to find fanfics with a poc or a dark/brown skinned reader in mind but seeing so many different people integrate their culture and background into their work is genuinely heartwarming

[reidingandwriting]

1989 (Peter Parker’s Version

Chapter One: Welcome To New York

“Welcome to New York! It’s been waiting for you”

Word Count: 2.2k

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings/Contains: Gender neutral reader (no pronouns, no use of y/n, no descriptors mentioned in this chapter), mild language, likely some OOC moments but whateverrrr

A/N: Going back to my roots and writing some Peter Parker content! I struggled for ages deciding if I wanted to write for Tom’s Peter or Andrew’s and this is based on Tom’s but trust, Andrew’s Peter Parker will get his time in the spotlight. Also for all my Deadpool & Wolverine people, I PROMISE that next installment will be out soon! I’m at 4k words and not even at the Good Part yet so I hope to have her up by the end of this week 🫶🏻

You were lost. So lost it would’ve been comical if it wasn’t your first day of class at Midtown. You clutched the schedule in your hands, looking at door numbers as you passed them. If 305 was right here, 303 across the hall, where in the hell was 304? You turned to look around the hallway, hoping to see someone who could help you and then you saw him.

Warm brown eyes met yours and you set your shoulders back before you walked over. He looked as anxious as you felt, but you hoped he would be able to help. “Hi! I’m so sorry, but I’m so insanely lost right now and you look really nice. Do you know where 304 is? I found 303 and 305 but I can’t find 304.”

“Uh, yeah! Yeah, sorry. Can I see your schedule?” You handed your schedule over to his outstretched hand and tried not to flinch when your fingers brushed his. “We have the same schedule, so you can follow me around today.” A pause. “Only if you want to! But it may be helpful. Having someone you can stick with today.” You watched as his cheeks grew slightly more flushed. He shifted his weight from one leg to another, like he couldn’t help but fidget.

“That would be really nice.” You smiled, hoping you came across as grateful as you felt. He ducked his head but you caught the faintest glimpse of a smile before he looked back at you.

“So, 304 is all the way down the hall. I don’t know why they did that, but.” He shrugged and together, the two of you walked down the hall.

“Thank you,” you trailed off and he introduced himself. Peter Parker, he said. You told Peter your name, feeling yourself smile as he said your name. “I’m glad I found you, Peter.” Nothing else was said as you two walked into class and after a moment of hesitation, you took a seat beside him. A minute later, someone else took a seat on the other side of you. Peter introduced him as Ned, Ned introducing himself as Peter’s best friend, and the three of you made light conversation as you worked on a writing assignment.

“Where did you move from?” Ned asked and you hummed.

“Portland. My mom got a new job at the city hospital, and we moved in a few days ago. Thursday, I think? The days have all blurred together at this point.” You chuckled. Your apartment was a labyrinth of moving boxes, having barely unpacked anything over the weekend. You just barely had all of your school things unpacked before you left for school this morning. “I need to finish unpacking, do some actual exploring. I’ve never been to New York before and now I live here.”

“Trust. Stay with us, you’ll be like a native in no time,” Ned said and you couldn’t help but laugh softly.

“Thanks.” You got through the rest of the day fairly well, even if you felt like a lost puppy trailing behind Peter. You felt lucky to have the same schedule as him, and Ned was pretty cool too. You also met a girl, MJ, who kind of intimidated you in the best way. At the end of the day, you parted ways from Peter and his friends, beginning your own walk home.

Hours later, you sat on your fire escape, sketchbook in your lap until a shadow swung past you. Was that…? There’s no way.

-

Peter didn’t mean to see you on his patrol. He had perched on a rooftop, watching over the people on the street below, and he felt a pair of eyes on him. Peter looked around as if his head was on a swivel, and then he saw you. You had a sketchbook in your lap, now dressed down in a simple t-shirt and black sweatpants, and you offered him a simple wave before you returned to your drawing. Peter found himself watching you for a few moments, watching your focus return to whatever you were drawing.

Come on, Peter, get a move on, Peter thought before he was off. He just missed you looking up, watching him with a curious gaze.

Every day for the next week, Peter saw you while on his patrol route. And every day he passed you, he couldn’t help but pause for a moment. He’d perch on the rooftop across from yours, taking a minute to just breathe and watch you. You spent a lot of time on the fire escape, he noticed. Some days drawing, some days reading. Always doing something. Today, he watched as you taped a piece of paper to your fire escape and he tilted his head. Your eyes met his (well, where his eyes are under the mask) and you tapped the paper and waved before climbing back through your window. A few moments passed before Peter moved and he swung over to your fire escape, landing quietly as he took the paper.

Peter smiled as he studied the drawing. You had drawn him as Spider-Man, perched on the rooftop he frequented. You colored the sky to resemble the setting sun, and the drawing looked as if it was glowing. Peter looked up into your window, frowning when he didn’t see you. With a soft sigh, Peter swung off to tuck the drawing into a safe place and continue his patrol route. Later that night, you noticed a sticky note stuck to your window that simply read ‘thank you’ with a drawing of Spider-Man’s mask on the bottom. The sticky note now lived on the side of your bookshelf, it being the first and last thing you saw every day.

-

You had been in the city just shy of a month before you properly met the web slinging hero. You were walking home from the library, and admittedly, you had gotten distracted and now you had no idea where you were. Everything looked somewhat familiar, but it all blended together into vaguely familiar blurs. You had no idea where you were at this point and you had started to panic when a familiar masked hero landed in front of you. You screamed, jumping back a few feet and Spider-Man frantically waved his hands.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, I thought you heard me.” Spider-Man sounded as panicked as you felt and you held your hand to your chest as you willed your racing heart to settle down.

“Friendly neighborhood Spider-Man my ass, almost gave me a heart attack,” your sentence ended in a laugh as you composed yourself. “I drew you such a nice picture a few weeks ago and you repay me by scaring me.”

“In my defense, I kind of rely on my stealthiness. Can’t sneak up on bad guys if I’m noisy,” Spider-Man said and you rolled your eyes, the corner of your lips twitching up.

“What can I do for you, Spidey?” You shifted from one foot to the other, studying him. When he was swinging through the air, fighting off muggers or even worse bad guys that you had seen on YouTube, he held an air of confidence. He came up with quips just as fast as he shot webs, blocked hits, and threw punches of his own. Talking to you though? He seemed fidget-y. He rubbed at the back of his neck and rocked up on the balls of his feet before settling back down. And that voice. That voice was familiar.

“Just happened to be in the area, you looked a little lost. I’m near the end of my patrol route for the day, so I thought I’d see if you wanted an escort home.” You obviously couldn’t see his expression, but he sounded sincere- if not a little amused.

“That would be… really nice, actually. I usually know my way home better, but I went to a different library today and I thought I had only lost focus for a second, but.” You gestured around yourself. “No clue where the hell I am.”

“Welcome to New York,” Spider-Man said as he started to walk the opposite you were going. “Come on, you just missed it by a few blocks.” Together, the two of you walked back to your apartment, and you made conversation as you walked. You talked more than he did, understanding there was a lot he couldn’t share with you without risking his identity being revealed. You talked about your homework, a group project you had, and your mom’s hectic work schedule. Spider-Man spoke a little, talking about things he had seen on patrol today, and asking questions where appropriate as you talked. You thought it would feel awkward, talking to the superhero, but it didn’t feel like you were talking to a stranger. It felt as if you were talking to a friend.

Your apartment came into sight soon enough and you were relieved, but also disappointed. You had enjoyed talking to him and you were sad you had to go inside and do physics homework.

“Thanks for walking me home. I’m sure you have more important things to do, so I really appreciate it,” you said and Spider-Man shook his head.

“Like I said, I wrapped up my patrol a little early today. Got some superhero business to attend to.” He saluted and you couldn’t help but laugh. The eyes of his mask squinted and you tilted your head, surprised by how expressive his mask was. “Need a lift to your window?” Spider-Man made little hand motions, resembling how he shot his webs, and you shook your head.

“Maybe next time,” you said and he nodded. “If you’re ever around and have a minute. You know where my fire escape is. Just knock on the window if I’m not already out there. I’m home alone a lot,” you admitted. Your mom was home as often as she could, but as a doctor who worked in the emergency room, she worked odd hours. You were a pro at being alone at this point and you couldn’t fault her for it. Chasing her dream even after having you, it was commendable.

“I’ll be on the lookout for you.” Spider-Man’s head shifted slightly, looking up as if he heard something. “Duty calls. I’ll see you around.” He waved before he shot a web at a nearby building, then he was off. You couldn’t help but stare at where he stood not too long ago, thinking about the interaction you had, before you walked inside your apartment building. Odd.

-

Peter sat on your couch, working on homework when you scared the absolute shit out of him.

“Can we talk?” It only took three words for his heart to stop and he hoped he didn’t look even half as panicked as he felt.

“Yeah! Yeah. What’s up?” Peter struggled to meet your gaze and you ran your hand through your hair, a nervous habit.

“I’m gonna sound batshit crazy, but it’s been driving me crazy for a while now and I have to ask.” A deep breath. “Are you Spider-Man?”

Many emotions filled Peter at once and he picked panic as the primary emotion to feel. His hands shook and he felt frozen, yet the need to run at the same time. You already knew his secret, what was stopping him from jumping out the window and swinging away? He could probably convince May to let him stay home for a few days, avoid you a little. Instead, Peter let out a shaky breath.

“What- what makes you say that?”

“Your reaction for one. But I noticed some similarities, your behavior mostly and your voice. Come on, Peter, you’ve gotta look into a voice modifier. But what really sold me? Welcome to New York.” Peter thought back on how not even a few days ago, you were talking to him about the almost friendship you had developed with the spider hero.

“Is this normal for people here? Being friendly with superheroes?” Peter had snorted in response and said, “Welcome to New York.” You had paused for the briefest of moments, Peter almost missed it, before you laughed in agreement.

“I think that connected the dots for me,” you finished. “So… are you?”

Seconds, possibly minutes passed, before Peter spoke again. “You know you can’t tell anyone, okay?” You nodded quickly before sitting back into the couch, relaxing against the cushions.

“Thank you.” Peter tilted his head. “For trusting me. I promise, you never have to worry about me saying anything.” The two of you fell into a comfortable silence until you groaned dramatically. “Do you get number nine? Because I keep getting the wrong answer.”

“Come here, let me see.” Peter scooted closer to you and looked at your work. “Right there.” As Peter explained what you were missing, you were grateful nothing felt different between the two of you. As if the conversation never happened. You ordered pizza for dinner later than night before Peter had to go home, and you watched as he swung into the distance, waving him off. Friends with a super hero. Only in New York.

[perfectprofessorloverapricot]

Small big problem

Pairings: Peter B. Parker x giant spiderman reader (platonic), Mayday x giant spiderman reader (platonic).

Summary: Some times is easy to to forget that even the strongest can be vulnerable.

Warnings: none.

A/n: this is my first time writing straight and purely in English, and it’s freaking hard when it’s not your native language. All my respect for the people that can.

Masterlist

In the spiderverse, a place of infinite possibilities, it’s easy to find every kind of people. Different Spider-Mans with different abilities.

There are different variants like Miguel with his claws and fangs, like Hobby with an always present distinction in his movements typical of his dimension, Jessica with her webs that come out of her fingertips and fights on a motorcycle or Margot with her avatar that has a physical and tangible form. Then there are the common variants like Peter Parker and Gwen Stacy. But even then, knowing of the possibilities, it was big shock for Miguel, Jess and Peter B. to land on a dimension were everything was huge. It was even more shocking to find the anomaly they were chasing, being pinned down by the big hand of the universe’s Spiderman.

But surprises don’t end there.

The moment he took off his mask in front of the team, every one was left speechless.

“Sooo…” started Jess.

Finally coming out of his shock, Peter smiles watching a young, smiling and fresh face under the mask. “Yep, a new teammate.”

Y/n rises both his eyebrows in slight confusion when both spider people turned towards the bigger guy among them. Because to him, they were all still small. His always been the tall kid in everything, but he totally feels like a giant in front of 3 people standing on an AC engine to stand shoulder height level with him. Basically, they were like 12 inches action figures to him.

Miguel, on the other hand, wasn’t thrilled to the idea of including another hormonal teenager to the society.

“Absolutely not.” he stated, turning his back on them and start messing with the watch.

Peter was the first to start arguing. “Oh come on. Big guy here-“ he said while pointing with his head at the young giant. “handled the anomaly effortlessly. He could totally be a good asset.”

Jess crossed her arms over her almost unnoticeable baby bump. “I agree with Peter in this.”

Miguel sighted turning around. “No. I already let you two persuade me to let Hobbie, Gwen and Pavrit into the society. I don’t need another teenager.” He said, making hand gestures to make emphasis in his point.

“Umm…” the three adults turned to the young boy when he got their attention. “If I may ask. What is this team you are talking about?”

Miguel opened his mouth under his mask to answer but was beaten by Peter. “It’s supper cool. You’re gonna love it kid. We are part of a society that reunites variants of Spiderman from different universes to protect the multiverse.”

“Wait, so- the theory of multiverses is real?” Asked the young one.

Peter, being the science nerd he is, started to explain. “Yeah. Miguel-“ he said, pointing at the líder of the group. “-our boss, leads mostly everything in there. He’s the only Spiderman that’s not funny, but everyone else is, so don’t worry. And it’s incredible to work with the other variants. Entertaining. But you should-“

“It’s not supposed to be fun or entertaining.” Interrupted Miguel with his authoritative voice. “This is serious. The multiverse is under our protection-“

“Ugh, and there you go again.” Complained Peter like a kid. “Killjoy. You keep repeating and repeating the same thing…”

While Peter and Miguel kept discussing the matter at hand like a married couple, Jessica and Y/n shared some glances between them. The younger asking ‘Is this normal?’ with his eyes, to which she replied ‘you have no idea’ with her own look.

Kind of feeling guilty for causing the discussion, Y/n tried to fix it. “It’s not necessary. Besides, I don’t think it would work.” He talked again, gaining the attention of the team. “You seem pretty surprised by my size. Which makes me think that the rest of the dimensions are on a smaller scale. It’ll be difficult or strange for the people in those dimensions to suddenly see a big Spiderman”

Peter turned to Miguel and threw him a bad look. “And now you made him feel bad.”

Miguel made his mask disappear just so Peter could see his offended expression. He can’t be serious, right?

Jess and Y/n felt the need to face palm so hard in that moment.

Long story short, Miguel ended up giving in and accepted the young Spiderman in the society.

The first days were something.

Most were intimidated merely by his height, that is until they all saw the friendly face under the mask when he took it off. But a special gang was the most interested in the newbie. Hobie, Pav and Gwen. The same teenagers Miguel was complaining about. He could understand why, the gang has too much energy for the poor man to handle. That’s why he has taken in to his own hands, the task to entertain the group whenever they are in his office.

Partly he does it so he doesn’t get in Miguel’s bad side and on the other hand, he wants to help the boss whose hate for life seems to grow every passing day.

Other than being busy with the gang, everything else was going perfectly fine.

He was called on difficult missions with Miguel, Jess and Peter B. after checking that the mission site is spacious enough for him to move. Or even leading his own missions with Gwen, Pav and Hobie. The last one was the hardest to convince to follow instructions, but he found a way to convince him to do what he wants without him even noticing, at least not until it was already done. Reverse psychology is what worked the most.

Until there was a problem. Hobie and Gwen were called to move a doc Oc anomaly to another universe in order to fight without causing damage to the surroundings. But they didn’t expect for the anomaly to have such an advanced technology so they called for back up, aka, Y/n.

But they forgot to mention a small detail.

The anomaly was in Lego Spider-Man’s dimension.

Y/n had such a heart attack when he came flying out of the portal and instantly had to calculate the landing to avoid destroying everything.

It was inevitable.

His foot alone covered the whole street.

Back up for the back up was needed, and seconds later Jess and spider byte appeared taking care of the situation.

But poor Y/n still was left with the horrified faces of the citizens in his mind. He doesn’t know how many bit the dust because of his mistake because there were to many casualties caused by the anomalies attack. It was a miracle that Lego Spider-Man’s dimension didn’t disappear.

Gwen and Hobie were scolded for how careless they were in their decision making once they returned.

Y/n didn’t leave his own dimension for a week with Miguel’s permission to stay out of missions until further notice.

It took the whole gang and spider Lego himself to convince him to go back to the HQ.

It was hilarious for him to see the relieved face of Miguel when he again was in charge of the teenagers. Poor man felt like he was one step away from strangling them all.

It took some time and encouragement from those who care about him but everything went back to normal. Dealing with anomalies and protecting tiny people, training with different variants of Spider-Mans that were brave, confident or stupid enough to face him, and last, the most fun thing to do is invite the gang to his universe just to see them mess around with things bigger than them. His locked screen picture is a selfie he took with them holding or eating a slice of pizza half their size.

But just like with any normal human being, there are good days and bad days. Just like the present.

Y/n dedicated himself to roam in the halls of the HQ trying to clear his mind of his thoughts while he waited for a call from any Spiderman in need of back up.

There has been some things troubling him at home. The need of silence and time brought him to the training zone.

Due to the busy day, most of the spider variants are out, dealing with things in their own dimension or chasing anomalies. That left the HQ almost empty, even the training zone.

He went to the machine that simulates carrying to trains and sat down letting his feet dangle from the edge.

Many would think that being Spiderman means not having to deal with common problems. That everything is about villains and training with cool super powers. But they forget that under the mask, there’s a normal teenager with normal problems.

But still problems.

“There you are.”

Y/n flinched in his place when he heard the voice so close behind him. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t notice he wasn’t alone anymore.

When he turned he found Peter B. walking towards him with his always smiling baby attached to his chest.

“It’s unusual to not see you with the teenage gang during missions.” Said Peter watching his daughter impatiently kicking her legs. His smile faltered when he didn’t recibe an answer from the young giant. He looked up encountering Y/n staring at his baby with an unreadable look. Not in a bad way but still worrying. “You okay kid?”

Y/n was startled out of his thoughts. He looked away and fiddled his fingers, putting a smile in his face that didn’t reach his ears. “Yeah, yeah. Just- you know… thinking.” Said the teenage with some insecurity. “The usual.”

Peter rises an brow at the down attitude. That is totally not the usual.

Normally, whenever the giant boy sees Mayday or Jess swollen belly there’s instantly a smile in his face. But today doesn’t seem like the case.

“Hey, everything okay?” Asked the father. “Because that doesn’t sound like the usual.”

He saw Y/n’s shoulders tense up when he was caught and he didn’t like it. That meant that something is bothering him.

In a silent message that he is not leaving, Peter sat down beside the boy, looking at the hyperactive Mayday to avoid putting pressure on the teenage.

“Wanna talk about it?”

Y/n visibly deflated at those words, letting out a sigh. “It’s just-“ the words got stuck in his throat, unable the let them out. “No, forget it. It’s something stupid.” Dejectedly, he placed his elbows on his knees.

Peter put a hand on the boys side, in a reassuring way. It was the only place he could reach. “If it’s bordering you I doubt it’s stupid.”

Both of the males turned to look at Mayday when she stared fussing in the carrier. Her little hands swaying in the boys direction.

“Oh look. Little Parker here noticed that someone is sad.” Said Peter while taking his baby out of the carrier. He bounce her up and down, managing to get a laugh out of her. Instantly, better than a charm, there was a smile in Y/n’s face. But just like before, his smile slipped of his lips, returning to that indecipherable look.

Suddenly a lightbulb light up in Peters head. He stood up with Mayday in his hands and held her in front of him. “Hold her.” He said.

The sudden request startled the big guy, making him jump in his place and lean away from Peter. “What?”.

“Hold her.” He said again, bringing her nearer.

“I-I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Oh come one. It’s rejuvenating.” Y/n shifted a little to the side when Peter walked closer.

“N-No. I’m serious. It’s not a good-“

“Here” in a swift movement, Peter put his baby in the teenager’s arm. Mayday’s spider ability did the rest. She stuck to Y/n’s spider suit.

The poor giant froze in his place, he even stoped breathing in fear of blowing her away or something like that.

He may like the baby, but he’s never hold a baby, much less one this small. He is truly terrified that he’ll hurt her. She is just so small.

Both males’ attention was on the baby that stared crawling with curiosity in the new surface. She looked happy to be freed of her fathers baby prison in his chest.

Y/n, instinctively put a big hand under the baby, in case she fell, finally letting out a breath.

When she actually let herself fall and land on her back on the hand, y/n had a mini heart attack. But ultimately let a sigh of relief when she let out a giggle.

To be more comfortable, y/n brought Mayday in front of him and put his free hand below the other just in case.

Peter felt accomplished when he saw that smile in the young one’s face again. “See? Everything’s okay.”

Y/n’s smile widened when Mayday grabbed his thumb and hug it like one of her plushies. She truly is adorable. With her fluffy and curly red hair she looks like a little peach in the palm of his hand. A small baby of the size of his middle finger.

“I’m going to be a big brother.” Blurted out suddenly the teenage.

Peter blinked a few times at the declaration before finally processing. “Congratulations kid. That’s cool. Your gonna be a big sibling.” Said the man, rising his hands in celebration.

The big smile in his face waved when he saw that expression in the teenage’s faces.

“Or not?” He said a little bit unsure.

Y/n kept looking at the baby hugging and chewing his thumb. Always making eye contact with her. “It is good.” He brought his free hand closer to the other, tickling her soft chubby tummy, earning a squeal from her. “It’s the almost inexistente relationship between my mother and I that worries me.” He finally confessed.

It may have been only a few words, but the relief that brought him was evident in the way his shoulders slumped. Finally he could talk about it.

Understanding the seriousness of the situation, Peter took a seat beside the young giant in a silent sigh that he is paying attention.

“When my father died, we unconsciously stared to distance ourselves from each other. And when we realized what was happening we tried to fix it but…” Y/n physically grimace at the memories. “It was so painfully awkward between us.”

Peter’s eyes softened when the teenager took one hand of his daughter between his thumb and index. Softly caressing the chubby palm.

“And then there’s Tom.” The adult gave him a questioning look, not knowing who is Tom. “He… is my stepfather.” The teenager clarified.

“Is he a bad person?” Asked Peter a little confused why it seems like something is happening.

“No, actually no. Totally the opposite.” Y/n sighed again. “He is a good guy. He loves my mother, makes her happy and everything.”

Mayday grabbed the index that kept her arm trapped, as a way of revenge. She wrapped her arms and legs around the finger before it was lifted.

The adorable baby giggle when she was moved up and down, always keeping a hand below her for protection. The sight brought a smile to the faces on those present.

“In short, he is good for her. But he trays way too hard to be on my good side to the point it becomes really uncomfortable. And now with the baby…” At last, after everything being said, he turned to look at Peter.

The adult didn’t need the teen to finish the sentence to understand what he meant. “You fear that gap between you will only widen.”

Y/n nodded.

Peter’s gaze softened at the simple yet complicated problem. He’s had a few of those and there’s always a way to clear it.

“Look kid. Let me tell you something” Said Peter, putting a hand in Y/n’s elbow again. “I may not know your mother, but if there’s something being a father and married has thought me…”

As if knowing what her father is saying, Mayday squealed while attaching a web in Y/n’s finger to let herself dangle between his hands.

“Is that, a parent’s love knows no limits.”

Y/n nodded understanding. It was right, after what happened with his father the same year he became Spiderman, his mother became a single mother who worked overtime just to pay the bills.

She could have just sent him to an orphanage or call social services. But she didn’t. She fought to give him a good future.

“But you should talk to her.” Said Peter again catching his flying baby when she swung to her father’s arms, startling the poor boy. “We know our kids more than anyone else. But we still can’t read minds.” Concluded the father.

Simple words with a heavy bust of confidence were delivered.

Y/n let out a chuckle. He couldn’t believe it. The goofiest spider dad he has ever met actually made him feel better.

“Thanks. That actually helped.” He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with air and straightening his back.

“By the way.” Started Peter again. “You held Mayday without her making a fuss. Have you considered being a babysitter?” The ridiculously out of the blue question with his serious face made Y/n snort and shake his head. “No, I’m serious. Mayday loves you and MJ and I have been planning to go on a date for months but there’s no one we trust enough you know. With her having super powers and all.” Quickly explained Peter while bouncing his baby.

Y/n rolled his eyes with a smile. “I’ll think about it Peter. But no promises.”

In celebration, Peter threw May in the air. “Yes.” He caught the squealing baby.

“If that is the case, I’ll totally have to make an appointment beforehand.” Said a feminine voice behind them.

They turned finding the very pregnant spider woman of the society.

“Why did I suddenly became a babysitter material?” Asked the teenager in fake annoyance.

Jess smiled up at him. “You always were. With babysitting the young spider gang and everything. You’ll just babysit a real baby this time.” She said with obviousness in her voice.

Y/n nodded his head, accepting his reality.

Peter turned to Jessica, standing up with Mayday finally in the carrier again. “What are you doing here? I thought you were in stand by ordered by Miguel.”

“Miguel needs a hand in the mission. Three pairs of hands to be exact.” She clarified while starting to introduce the coordinates in her watch.

“What? Is the boss getting his butt kicked?” Joked Y/n standing up.

“Seems so. Let’s move.” Ordered the woman.

After the portal big enough for them was opened, the three were launched through the multiverse.

Y/n doesn’t know how it feels to be normal and thinking civil problems are the biggest weight his shoulders could ever carry.

But he does know that being Spiderman is something he would never give up.

He could never give this awesome people in the society up.

He would give his life first.

100%

[int-writersmind]

I Hate Christmas, Peter Parker {Part 2}

Peter Parker x f!Reader

It’s simple: You don’t see what the big fuss is all about surrounding Christmas, but Peter Parker thinks that this is unacceptable and puts you through step two of a multiple step list to make you fall in love with the holiday. 

{Read Part 1}

Warnings: Fluff

Word Count: 1.2k

Author's Note: Not well edited will fix soon; Another Christmas song suggestion, a personal fave

That stupid little elf that greeted you as you left your apartment every morning was a reminder that Peter’s little list was far from being over. That stupid little elf, with it’s stupid little plastic face, creepy smile and knowing eyes.

“It’s an elf on the shelf, kids love them!” Peter said when he placed it on the way out of your apartment after the two of you spent way too many hours decorating your place. You hated to admit it, but you actually had fun. But the elf on the shelf was not the cherry on top that Peter was so keen on it being.

“You’re telling me that children actually enjoy the idea of some vile creature constantly watching them?” you responded.

Anyway, you were dreading whatever was next, it was the second week of December and there wasn’t any movement from Peter’s end. Granted he was pretty busy with his second life, dealing with a group of baddies that decided that this time of year was the perfect time for a group project of evil–Peter’s words, not yours. 

You were admittedly gutted, Christmas was far from being your favorite holiday, but at least it gave Peter an excuse to annoy you more than often, and more Peter was always better. But you knew and understood everything that came with Peter’s other job.

It was late now, soft snow was falling from the night sky. Anywhere else that would be magically and beautiful, the very definition of a White Christmas. But all you could imagine was the aftermath that came when it snowed in the city. Train delays, black ice, yellow snow, and that god awful gray snow that somehow, not matter how careful you were, your foot always found itself in. It wasn’t Christmas fault of course, annoying snow could come at any time over the winter (and sometimes Spring) season, but the damn thing was always linked to the holiday.

You were loss in your work, trying to catch up on some documents before the holidays caused everyone to not check their emails until the new year. You were snuggled up in some pajamas pants that once had a matching top and a raglan t-shirt from the men’s section. As you are sip from your hot chocolate, you don’t even notice the subtle tapping coming from your window. Alone on your couch, you just chuck up the sound to some apartment ambience. It isn’t until the tapping become more preseinset that you notice it.

“Oh gosh, sorry,” You say to Peter as you open the window, reaching for a hoodie as the brisk winter air rushes in. Peter just sits on your windowsill, pulling his Spider-Man mask off. Your little apartment was tucked in a strange corner of the city, one where most of your windows were facing a wall, some Peter never really feared that someone was watching the two of you.

“Good thing I wasn’t bleeding out.” Peter just swings his legs in, not fully coming into the apartment.

“Not this time at least” You respond, “So what’s up? Can you stay?” You gesture to the Spider-Man costume. 

“Oh yeah, the city’s quiet tonight,” He glimpses at the city behind him before returning this attention back to you. “I was actually here because of…the list”

You roll your eyes. “Really, and what could possibly be on the list that involves Spider-Man?”

“The Tree.”

You try to stifle a groan, he was talking about the Rockefeller Christmas Tree, the one Christmas tree that all sane native born New Yorkers knew to avoid like the plague around this time. Yes, yes, it was very pretty with its gigantic size, thousands of lights, and of course that enormous Swarovski star on the top. The tree was nice to view on TV during the tree lighting ceremony and through other people’s social media, but actually being there, in the thick of it, was terrible. The crowds, the cold, the totally unoriginal photo ideas. “Peter–”

“Now listen here Debbie Downer,” You make a face at Peter, who puts his hands up in surrender. “If we go now I bet you it will be a fun time.”

The two of you just stare at one another, “Fine, I’ll get my coat.”

About fifteen minutes later, Peter has the two of you swinging through the snow and cold, both whipping past your face and ears, causing a slight stinging sensation. The damn coat, hat and scarf did nothing to cut down on the weather’s feeling. 

Since the two of you started dating and some time after Peter told you the truth of him being Spider-Man, you had your fair share of swinging through the city moments. It didn’t mean that you were used to the feeling of constantly falling through the sky to only be pulled forward. Oh c’mon this is slow Peter once said.

Thankfully the journey wasn’t as long as Peter quickly lands the two of you on a rooftop across the street from the Tree. “See, not too bad?” Peter says.

“Sure, sure, sure, sure.” You answer back, sitting at the edge of the building, feet dangling over the side, it takes Peter a few moments before he sits next to you.

Now without a mask and spotting a brown bag, Peter sits next to you, nudging his shoulder into yours, you can’t help but smile as you pull out a Christmas tree shaped donut out the bag.

As you bite into the somehow still warm pastry, glancing at the tree and all it sparking glory before looking at Peter. “Two Christmas trees on the list Parker?”

“Well, this wasn’t originally the plan ok,” Peter scoffs as he bites into a Santa shaped donut. “It was going to be a whole day, with ice skating, tree viewing–”

“I’m just joking,”You lightly punch him on the arm, taking another bite from the donut. “I actually quite like this, just the two of us, here, looking at the tree. You get to like, actually enjoy looking at it without getting in any one’s way. “

“That’s true, just the two of us up here…how many people can say they saw the tree like this?”

“Well, probably everyone that lives in this building?” You both laugh as the two of you finish the donuts. You lean over and kiss Peter, savoring the sweetness from his lips. You can’t help but lick your lips staring at him as you do so. “Just so you know, I really appreciate this.”

“I know,” Peter’s eyes glance downwards towards your lips. “Does this mean you're starting to love Christmas now?”

“Hell no, but I can think of a few ideas that might change my mind.” You lean in, hands resting on his chest, pecking at his lips again.

“Not yet,” He moves just slightly away from you, “But I promise the next one will be worth it.”

Before the two of you kiss again, the lights on the tree go off, you stare a little loss at one another. “Peter?”

“No Spidey-Sense, nothing’s wrong.”

You pull out your phone and check the time—midnight “Guess it's much later than I thought it was.”

“God, same, I’m so tired.” Peter lets his head fall on your chest, you hold him in your arms.

“Come back to my place Spider-boy,” You gently run your fingers through his hair. “You’re freezing and I have a hot chocolate with your name on it. “

“Sounds good to me,” Peter looks up. “But only if we can watch a Christmas movie.”

“Of course.” You say with just a hint sarcasm

~

Sorry for the late upload and the short length just not in the right head space right now, but I'll live. try to get something up on Wed but no promises in case I forget. But stay with me pls!

Anyway, to lighten things up, what Christmas movie do you think Peter would pick?

[mthofferings2023]

Tiptapricot

See Tiptapricot’s existing works here and here.

Preferred contact methods: Tumblr: Tiptapricot Email: tiptapricot@gmail.com Instagram: tiptapricot_vibes

Preferred organizations: - Autistic Self Advocacy Network - Native American Rights Fund - RIP Medical Debt - The Bail Project - Transgender Law Center (See the list of approved organizations here)

Will create works that contain: Sfw: Fluff, angst, horror, inhuman exploration, domesticity, falling in love, nonsexual intimacy, role swap, missing scenes, time loop/time travel AUs, sci fi, mixed canons from media, trans exploration, aspec exploration. Nsfw: explicit content with any of the above, transmasc porn, t-dick smut, frottage, grinding, monster sex, tentacles, aphrodisiacs, cock warming, weird sex, voyeurism/exhibitionism, more if asked.

Will not create works that contain: Yandere, dark!AUs, intentional OOC, scat play, piss play, non-monster blood play, heavy BDSM, bestiality, underage sex (whether between minors or between an adult and a minor), incestuous content, childbirth, period sex, cannibalism (aspects of monster-related eating may be discussed), race play, age play, medical abuse, suicide/self harm (references and content may be discussed), heavy non-con/dub-con (aspects involved in kinks may be discussed), heavy gore/heavy sexual gore (can be discussed in certain contexts), explicit and visceral murder, religious alteration/other religion AUs for Jewish characters, plural erasure/separate body/no system AUs for plural characters, magical genderswap/other gender AUs (fantastical trans explorations may be discussed), Bemis's run, Pepose’s City of the Dead characterization (though plot elements from CotD are welcome to be utilized), OCs, reader inserts

  -- Fic or Other Writing --

Auction ID: 1125

Will create works for the following relationships: Steven Grant/Jake Lockley/Marc Spector - 616, MCU Layla El-Faouly/Steven Grant/Marc Spector - 616, MCU Logan/Charles Xavier - X-Men: Evolution Miguel O'Hara-centric - Spider-Verse (animated films) Miguel O'Hara/Peter Parker/Mary Jane Watson - Spider-Verse (animated films) Jean-Paul Duchamp/Steven Grant/Jake Lockley/Marc Spector - 616, MCU Layla El-Faouly/Steven Grant/Jake Lockley/Greer Grant Nelson/Marc Spector - 616, MCU Jean-Paul Duchamp & Layla El-Faouly & Steven Grant & Jake Lockley & Marc Spector - 616, MCU Astronaut Marc/Jean-Paul Duchamp - 616, MCU Yehya Badr & Steven Grant & Jake Lockley & Marc Spector & the Midnight Mission crew - 616, MCU

Work Description: (This is my SFW listing, if you are interested in explicit/sexual work, please look for my other auction.) This listing is for a generally safe for work fic piece starting at ~1,000 words. Each $5 bid will increase the piece’s word count by ~500 words, up to ~5,000 words maximum. If desired by the winner, the resulting word count may be split among multiple smaller fics. It may also inhabit a lower word count than the maximum if it is hit in bidding (IE: even if this auction hits a $55 bid, if you would like only a 2k word fic, I can do that). Word count is not exact and I may go slightly over or under depending on what fits the story best, but I will try to stick as close as I can. Due to current projects and plans, I will not be able to begin active prose work on this piece until early 2024 (likely early January, if not a bit later. I will communicate my availability with the winner). Discussions, planning, and an outline are welcome to be discussed and hammered out before then. This piece as well as my other listing will be taking the place of two regular commission slots for my January opening, and it is unlikely I will open more slots at that time. Winning a listing from me here is the best way to guarantee a slot from me in the near future. Clarifications for listed relationships: For any group platonic relationships or polyamorous romantic relationships, I am open to the whole group listed, as well as any combination of characters listed within that group (IE: I am open to writing polyamorous Marc/Steven/Jake, as well as only Marc/Jake or only Marc/Steven. This applies to platonic groups like the Midnight Mission Crew as well, as in I am open to writing stories only featuring Badr, Reese, and Soldier being friends, or only Steven and The House of Shadows). If a relationship you are interested in is not listed here but seems to fit with what I’m open to (IE: Greer & Frenchie, House of Shadows-centric, or even Miguel & The Moon Knight System), you are welcome to bid and reach out to discuss it with me. I may not be open to all pair ups or explorations, however, so please make sure you are at least interested in a story with what I already have listed currently. The "Astronaut Marc" listing refers to Captain Spector/Commander/MK-1 AKA the spaceman alter featured in the Lemire run, and his inner world version of Frenchie who fights alongside him. I am open to headcanoned characterizations/stories for these two, as well as larger AUs should the winner want to do something extra fun with them. Further content clarifications: I am open to melding aspects of different universes together in whatever way the winner would like (IE: MCU Moon Knight System interacting with Lemire Run events). Additionally, characters regularly a part of the chosen cast but not listed above are welcome (IE: Gena, Crawley, Lyla, Mayday), and additional side characters or Marvel cameos are welcome as long as I am given ample communication on versions and where to find information on them if I’m not familiar with them. While 616 is listed for all Moon Knight characters, I am not comfortable writing for runs I am not familiar with or am uncomfortable with (see DNWs above for some runs). I am most familiar with the Lemire 2016 run and the MacKay 2021 run versions of the characters. Headcanoned versions of additional Moon Knight system headmates are allowed to a certain extent (IE: Mr. Knight as a separate headmate or Dr. Harrow as a separate headmate would be fine, an original child alter would not). Examples of my work can be found in my portfolio links! What I have posted covers a range of content and word count, depending on the length and story type you are looking for. When contacting me after winning, please have a general idea of the story you would like to see. Further discussion on things like specific beats, headcanons, point of view, and tense may be discussed after.

Ratings: Gen, Teen, Mature

Can pods bid on this auction? Yes - Podbids welcome!

CLICK HERE TO BID ON THIS WORK

-- Fic or Other Writing --

Auction ID: 2061

Will create works for the following relationships: Steven Grant/Jake Lockley/Marc Spector - 616, MCU Layla El-Faouly/Steven Grant/Marc Spector - 616, MCU Miguel O'Hara/Peter Parker/Mary Jane Watson - Spider-Verse (animated films) Miguel O'Hara-centric - Spider-Verse (animated films) Khonshu-centric - 616, MCU Jean-Paul Duchamp/Steven Grant/Jake Lockley/Marc Spector - 616, MCU Jean-Paul Duchamp/Steven Grant - 616 Layla El-Faouly/Steven Grant/Jake Lockley/Greer Grant Nelson/Marc Spector - 616, MCU Astronaut Marc/Jean-Paul Duchamp - 616, MCU The House of Shadows-centric - 616

Work Description: (This is my NSFW listing, if you are interested in non-sexual work, please look for my other auction.) This listing is for a sexually explicit fic piece starting at ~1,000 words. Each $2 bid will increase the piece’s word count by ~200 words, up to ~4,000 words maximum. If desired by the winner, the resulting word count may be split among multiple smaller fics. It may also inhabit a lower word count than the maximum if it is hit in bidding (IE: even if this auction hits a $40 bid, if you would like only a 2k word fic, I can do that). Word count is not exact and I may go slightly over or under depending on what fits the story best, but I will try to stick as close as I can. Due to current projects and plans, I will not be able to begin active prose work on this piece until early 2024 (likely early January, if not a bit later. I will communicate my availability with the winner). Discussions, planning, and an outline are welcome to be discussed and hammered out before then. This piece as well as my other listing will be taking the place of two regular commission slots for my January opening, and it is unlikely I will open more slots at that time. Winning a listing from me here is the best way to guarantee a slot from me in the near future. Clarifications for listed relationships/characters: For any polyamorous relationships, I am open to the whole group listed, as well as any combination of characters listed within that group (IE: I am open to writing polyamorous Marc/Steven/Jake/Jean-Paul, as well as any combination within such as Marc/Jake, Jean-Paul/Jake/Steven, etc.). If a relationship you are interested in is not listed here but seems to fit with what I’m open to (IE: Layla and Jean-Paul both being with the Moon Knight System at the same time, someone engaging sexually with the House of Shadows, Miguel x MK System) you are welcome to bid and reach out to discuss it with me. I may not be open to all pair ups or explorations, however, so please make sure you are at least interested in a story with what I already have listed. The "Astronaut Marc" listing refers to Captain Spector/Commander/MK-1 AKA the spaceman alter featured in the Lemire run, and his inner world version of Frenchie who fights alongside him. I am open to headcanoned characterizations/stories for these two, as well as larger AUs should the winner want to do something extra fun with them. Both the House of Shadows and Khonshu are listed as I greatly enjoy inanimate/nonhuman/godly sex, and if anyone out there would like some good old eldritch building or god fucking, I am very very open to that. I am very specific about how I pair Khonshu with other characters, however, so work with him would be less flexible on what I’m open for outside of a solo scenario. Although comics Steven/Jean-Paul is covered by my polyamorous relationship pair up rule, I am especially interested in the MacKay versions of Steven and Jean-Paul as a ship, and would love to create for them. Further content clarifications: I would like the focus of this story to be on sexual intimacy, porn, etc. as I’m interested in creating a short and smutty piece we can both be excited about and have fun with, so as long as it fits with my content boundaries, weird and wild ideas are welcome! Plot build up outside of the main sexual content will be kept to a minimum unless further discussed. I am open to melding aspects of different universes together in whatever way the winner would like (IE: MCU Moon Knight System interacting with Lemire Run events). Additionally, characters regularly a part of the chosen cast but not listed above are welcome to feature (IE: Gena, Crawley, Lyla, Mayday), and additional side characters or Marvel cameos are welcome but only in brief mentions or appearances. Trans headcanons are more than welcome for any character! And further headcanons such as kink preference, body features (bottom growth, top surgery/bottom surgery or not, etc.) may be discussed as well. While 616 is listed for all Moon Knight characters, I am not comfortable writing for runs I am not familiar with or am uncomfortable with (see DNWs above for some runs). I am most familiar with the Lemire 2016 run and the MacKay 2021 run versions of the characters. Headcanoned versions of additional Moon Knight system headmates are allowed to a certain extent (IE: Mr. Knight as a separate headmate or Dr. Harrow as a separate headmate would be fine, an original child alter would not). Examples of my explicit work can be found in my portfolio links! If you would like further examples of my explicit content, a few short original pieces may be found here and here. When contacting me after winning, please have a general idea of the story you would like to see. Further discussion on things like specific beats, headcanons, point of view, and tense may be discussed after.

Ratings: Explicit

Can pods bid on this auction? Yes - Podbids welcome!

CLICK HERE TO BID ON THIS WORK

The auction runs from October 22 (12 AM ET) to October 28 (11:59:59 PM ET). Visit marveltrumpshate.com during Auction Week to view all of our auctions and to place your bids!

[jason-todd-fangirl-14]

My Introduction :)

I’ve been on Tumblr for a couple months now, and I just realized I haven’t done my introduction yet!

My name is Rosabella, but you can call me Rosie! I’ve only just recently started writing fanfics on here, but I’ve been writing stories for about ten years. Most stories I plan on publishing here are x fem!reader one shots. The characters I love are many, but I’m only open to writing the following at the moment (this might change in the future):

Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Bob Reynolds/Sentry, Joaquin Torres, TASM!Peter Parker, Jason Todd, Wally West, Jason Grace, Percy Jackson (book only; no films/show), Leo Valdez & Frank Zhang.

I am also open to writing PLATONIC!!! Batsis, Batmom & sister/best friend to Barbara, Steph and possibly Cass, along with Tony Stark & Bruce Wayne daughter!reader related content as well.

All of my past, present and future works are guaranteed to be fluffy, sweet and has some sort of happy ending. I’m not a huge fan of angst, but I’m sure at some point my work will eventually involve that genre to some degree. Fear not, there will be a trigger warning beforehand to those who are sensitive. If you are sensitive, please don’t read the fic for your own mental health, and wellbeing.

I WILL NOT write anything involving smut, pedophilia/incest, open or poly relationships. Also all romantic character x reader characters (this also includes the reader, too) will be over 18 unless said otherwise. Character ages in any platonic fics’ may vary to fit narrative.

I want my blog to be stress, politics, and cursing free. Nothing against any of those things, or the people who enjoy them, but that’s just my own personal preference. I want to stay away from them for the sake of my own mental health, and I just want to solely focus on the fanfics I write. I also want this to be a safe place people can go if they don’t want to be reminded of the current world’s craziness.

I will only write female oriented reader content. I have nothing against any other preference, and you’re welcome to change anything you feel comfortable with while reading my work if you choose to, but that is what I feel comfortable writing. As the biological female writer, I picture myself as the reader when I write, and if I try to write anything other than what I’m comfortable writing, I have a hard time with doing so, and the work just does not seem realistic, and won’t turn out good.

Clean, fluffy requests are open currently (as of 8/12/24). As the author, I have every right to decline any request I see fit, whether I don’t have the time to write it, or I just don’t feel comfortable writing it.

Also, btw, there might be grammatical errors in my work, and I’m sorry about that. Even though English is my native language, English is still hard sometimes lol.

Anyway, I think that’s all for my introduction, and blog rules. Thank you for sticking around, and I hope you enjoy my content! :)

~Rosie

[faerieemetal]

page turner | p. parker

this blog contains content that is 18+ only. minors, blank blogs and ageless blogs, do not interact. please read more about protecting minors and read my blog rules and guidelines before you interact/follow.

PAIRING ─── college!peter parker x afro-indigenous!fem!reader

SUMMARY ─── just when peter didn't think he could love you any more than he already did, there you are giving him another reason to love you.

WARNINGS ─── 18+, MINORS DNI. college au. very mild swearing (like one curse word). established relationship (roommates to lovers). fluff. soft peter.

WORD COUNT ─── 1.47k

main masterlist | peter parker masterlist

Maybe it was cheesy and cliché but you really did enjoy visiting the campus library. It was a quiet and peaceful place where you could study for your classes and get most of your work done and you could enjoy the books lining the shelves. The librarian knew you very well at this point and she always made sure to tell you when the library got new books. She also knew what you liked so she was able to make recommendations for you to read so you always had a new book so you were never bored. This time, she recommended a fantasy novel and let you check out the book before you went back to the apartment you shared with your boyfriend. Your didn't have many classes today and you already finished most of your work so you could just sit on the couch with a warm fuzzy blanket and a cup of hot chocolate and start reading the book Mrs. Smith let you borrow. Peter still had another class before he could come home so you had some time for yourself until he did.

You changed into some short and a T-shirt before heading to the kitchen to make your hot chocolate. You were putting mini marshmallows into your warm drink when you got a text from Peter telling you he would be home soon. You smiled as you texted him back and sat down on the couch and put your mug down on the coffee table. You pulled the blanket over your legs and picked up the book and started reading it. You were glad you put your hair in two braids so it wasn't getting in your face and obstructing your vision. As you were reading, you drank more of your hot chocolate and you were already a few chapters in. You couldn't help but be grateful that Mrs. Smith recommended this book to you and now you couldn't put it down.

You were so engrossed in the book that you didn't even wanna get up to wash your mug. It had you on the edge of your seat even though you were starting to get tired from sitting by yourself with no sound other than your calm and steady breathing. You shifted your body until you were lying down on your back and bookmarked your spot and put the book down on the coffee table. You pulled the blanket to cover more of your body as you turned to your side and closed your eyes. Maybe you could just get a little bit of rest before Peter returns but it didn't really matter anymore when you fell into a deep slumber.

About half an hour passed until Peter came back to the apartment and found you asleep on the couch. He was careful not to wake you up as he put his stuff away and washed the mug you left on the counter. He noticed the book as well and smiled as he realized that it was new and you had already nearly gotten halfway through it. It must've been a real page turner if you had already gotten so far while you were here by yourself waiting for him to come home.

He knew that even though you had few classes today, you still spent a lot of time studying before going home to read so he picked you up and carried you to the bed without waking you up so you would be more comfortable. Peter was quite tired himself so after changing his clothes, he crawled into the bed with you and pulled you closer until your back was pressed up against his chest. There were still at least three more hours before nighttime so a quick nap wouldn't do too much harm for either of you.

When you woke up, you felt warmth against your back and a pair of arms around you. You turned around to look behind you and smiled when you saw Peter asleep right next to you. You looked out the window and noticed it was getting dark outside so you manage to get out of bed without disturbing him. You thought maybe you could just cook something simple while he still slept and started heating up a frying pan on the stove. You decided to turn the TV on for some background noise so it wasn't entirely quiet while you cooked. Plus, you liked to watch a little TV while you did your thing.

While you were frying the vegetables, you heard footsteps and turned around to see Peter walking into the kitchen. You smiled when he kissed your cheek before grabbing the shredded chicken, already knowing what you were making.

"I came home and you were fast asleep," Peter said and you shrugged your shoulders as you added the meat to the vegetables and broth in the frying pan.

"I was reading and fell asleep," you replied.

"I could see that. You were about halfway through already," Peter chuckled and you smiled as you looked at him. "Must've been a real page turner."

"You have no idea. I was at the library and Mrs. Smith noticed I was looking for something different to read so she told me to check out the book so I did and started reading it when I got home and I was already hooked on the first chapter and I couldn't put it down, not even for a second," you rambled on and Peter smiled as he watched you.

You were the classic bookworm and so passionate about the stories you've read and always like to talk about whatever new adventure your mind was being taken on. There were so many things about you that made you beautiful to him but seeing you so genuinely happy about something was one of the things he loved most. Even while you were boiling the noodles, you were still talking about the book and how excited you were getting as you read more and didn't realize that your boyfriend was just looking at you with love and adoration written all over his features. By the time the stir-fry was finished, you had already said everything that was on your mind about the book and you were grabbing two plates and forks.

"I don't think I tell you enough about how amazing you are," Peter said as you gave him a plate of food.

"Peter, I just talked your ear off about a book you probably never even read or heard of," you chuckled as you grabbed your own plate and the both of you sat on the couch.

"True, but that's one of the many reasons I love you. I love seeing how happy you get when talking about things you enjoy," Peter replied.

You smiled as you leaned on his shoulder and his gently kissed the your temple. You didn't picture yourself dating someone as great as Peter before you met him. He was looking for a roommate and you needed someplace close to campus and now here you were. You met him again at the campus library and you were reading a poetry book while he was studying for one of his classes. You remembered how awkward he was when you asked him if he wanted to hang out and you had to admit you were nervous as hell at first. You've had boyfriends before but it was the first time you made the first move and you were so happy when he accepted your offer. You had so many reasons to love him. Although he was awkward, it was adorable. He was smart and funny even though you didn't always get his jokes because you didn't go to a prestigious science school like Midtown High, you still liked hearing them. When you met, he was studying quantum physics and you were studying literature. You both seemed so different, both pursuing different paths and careers but that didn't stop you from being together.

"Another day and it ends with both of us on the couch watching Rick and Morty," you laughed as the show started and Peter laughed as well. "I don't always understand the shit that goes on in this show but it's hilarious."

"I like spending the last moments of the night watching Rick and Morty with you," Peter replied and you smiled as he went into the kitchen to clean the dishes.

For the rest of the night, you watched a few episodes on TV before deciding it was time to go to bed. Your classes started earlier than Peter's so you needed to turn in for the night. Maybe it was cliché that you met your boyfriend in college and shared an apartment with him that you both worked to pay for but you couldn't be more happy.

ENDNOTES ─── to get notified as soon as possible, follow @faeslibrary and turn on post notifications.

© 2021 faerieemetal. do not copy, repost or translate.

[plutoneu]

x black! reader

x native! reader

x poc! reader

x trans male! reader

x trans female! reader

x latinx! reader

x inclusivity!

i want to everyone to be able read something for them and not just read "...and her milky skin against mine..."

thank you. 💜

[kneedeepinfandoms]

i swear.

Tom Holland smiling.

could literally cure diseases. 😍❤❤

[mysticatto]

Teach me

tasm!Peter Parker x fem!virgin!Reader (no nwh spoilers)

Prompt: Peter teaches Reader how to kiss. She grabs him and plants a long, sensual kiss on his lips. The rest is history.

Words: ca. 3.500

Warnings: 18+, -Minors DNI!- Fluff, awkwardness, swearing, cunnilingus, blow job, unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it, fellas!), basically porn with a little plot, NOT BETA'D

A/N: Okay, Hi! This is my first complete fic ever. Even in my native language I couldn't stay focused to finish something but here you go. First time writing smut in english nonetheless. I really hope y’all like it and I would love to get some constructive criticism. Love ya!

Little PSA: Of course there's nothing wrong with being inexperienced romantically/sexually, or not being interested in it in any way. I don't intend on shaming anyone with this fic.

Do not copy, translate or steal my fics! (any fics for that matter)

____________

In theory, you knew how things worked. Two people like each other and eventually they kiss, although that didn’t seem to be necessary as your sister had told you vividly. You still shuddered, thinking back to the latest story of Laura’s sexual innuendoes. You on the other hand, hadn’t even gone as far as kissing someone, although you were the older one. Taking matters into your own hands, you asked your best friend, Peter, to come over later that day.

____________ “You want me to what?!”, he asked incredulously upon your request. You could feel your face heat up from embarrassment. “I want you to teach me how to kiss.”, you stated nonchalantly, although your heartbeat told you, you were everything but nonchalant about this matter. Your heart was in your throat, beating rapidly.

Peter still looked at you, as if you had grown a second head. “Come on, Pete. I can’t stand another one of Laura’s stories, only to sit there wallowing in my inexperience. At least tell me how it is; how it feels like.”, you begged, giving him your best puppy dog eyes.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he let out an exasperated sigh. He wasn’t exactly happy to show you how to kiss someone, mainly because he didn’t want you to kiss anyone else. Peter had known about his feelings for you for a few months now, never acting on them because he told himself, it would be better to keep you as his best friend, than ruining everything by confessing his dumb crush to you.

But he knew it wasn’t just a crush, no. He knew his feelings were deeper, albeit he wouldn’t admit it out loud. So when you came to him with this outrageous request he was bummed, to say the least.

“Fine.”, he answered curtly, glaring at you without malice. “Thank you!”, you squeal, charging forward from your position on your bed to wrap your arms tightly around his neck in gratitude. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t get sappy on me.”, he mumbled feigning annoyance, while pushing his nose into your hair before releasing you from the embrace.

Nervously, you shifted back to your prior, cross-legged position, facing Peter again. The brunette heaved a deep breath, looking rather uncomfortable before speaking up again.

“So… What exactly do you want to know?”, he asked carefully, sneaking glances at you, while you were lost in your thoughts.

“Well… How does one go about it? Is there a build-up? Like… I don’t know. Okay. Lemme rephrase. What was your first kiss like?”, you asked innocently, looking at him with doe eyes.

Peter swallowed hard, looking at your adorably innocent expression. Trying to force his heart to slow down, he tried thinking back to his first kiss.

“It was… awkward, to say the least. We both didn’t know what to do, where to put our hands. The first try was too enthusiastic, so we ended up bumping our foreheads together. So yeah. It was really, really awkward to be honest.”

You nodded along, taking in what he was telling you and trying to stifle your giggles. “Yeah, that sounds awkward. How is it now? When you kiss someone, what do you do now?” Curiosity got you in its grasp, long forgotten was the initial uncomfortableness. At least for you that was. Peter still shifted nervously in his stance.

“Nowadays, I simply go for it, I guess. I put one hand on her neck, with my thumb grazing her jaw. Depending on the intensity my other hand is probably in her hair or on her waist to keep her close. Um… Yeah.” He looked down on his lap, willing his racing heart to slow the fuck down. Surely, you were able to hear it by now.

You didn’t. You were in your own world, imagining what it would be like, but your imagination only got you so far.

“Show me.”, you stated bluntly, before noticing how that must have sounded to Peter. “Wait, I mean. You don’t have to kiss me, obviously.” Your nerves were on full display again, laughing breathlessly and averting your gaze. “Show me your approach, is what I wanted to say.”

Wide eyes were staring at you, incredulously. Peter felt his hands get clammy. Goosebumps spread over his skin just thinking about being that close to you.

Of course it wouldn’t be the first time he was that close. You hugged constantly, or tickled each other to tears, but this situation was completely different. It had nothing to do with banter between two best friends.

He gulped, noticing how he was still staring at you, and you were now staring back expectantly. With shallow breaths, clammy hands and his heart going a mile a minute, he leaned forward on his hands, doing a little hop to get closer to you.

Sitting directly in front of you now, the height difference made him look down slightly to meet your eyes. He tried desperately to regulate his breathing, before lifting his slightly shaking hand and placing it on your neck, his thumb resting on your jaw like he said earlier.

Your breath hitched at the skin on skin contact and your lips parted slightly. His other hand found the back of your head, tangling in your hair and keeping you in place. With parted lips of his own, he leaned in closer to you, until the tip of his nose touched yours.

“That’s it.”, he whispered softly, slowly sitting back again, but his hands still stayed in place, as if they were glued to your skin. Your eyes flitted between his, already missing the close proximity.

He started withdrawing his hands and that is when you snapped. With one hand you grabbed his collar, the other found his neck and you pulled him back into you. You pressed your lips to his, screwing your eyes shut in the process.

He was surprised, to say the least, hesitating for only a second before his hands found their places again, pulling you even closer to him.

Your lips moved fervorously against his. The hand on his collar wandered to the nape of his neck, pulling yourself closer and closer to him, until you were chest to chest.

Peter’s tongue slipped out carefully, licking your bottom lip to ask for entrance, which you granted immediately. The kiss grew more passionate by the second; the hand in your hair tugging lightly to tilt your head to deepen it even more.

But then his hands let go of you. You thought, maybe, he had come to his senses and realized he actually didn’t want this, but a second later you could feel them on your waist, tugging at you; moving you up slightly to position you on his lap, effectively making you straddle his thighs.

Both of your hands were in his hair now, tugging and pushing rhythmically, making a low moan escape Peter’s lips. You didn’t know what had come over you, but you started moving your hips ever so slightly over his crotch.

Peter was the first to break the kiss, only to kiss down your jaw and to your neck, nipping and suckling the soft skin just beneath your ear. You gasped, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth to stifle a moan.

“Don’t. Want to hear you.”, he breathed hastily, letting his hands slip under your shirt and placing one on your waist again, while the other stroked up and down your back.

You grasped his chin between your thumb and index finger, tilting his head up again, before planting another bruising kiss on his lips. This time, you slipped your tongue into his mouth, swirling it against his hungryly.

Your hands moved to the hem of his shirt, tugging impatiently and grazing his skin with your nails lightly. He moaned again, leaning back to get rid of the fabric, before tugging your own over your head, throwing it somewhere in your room.

Your crotch slid over his, eliciting a groan from Peter. He lifted you up to lay you down on your bed, hovering over you without breaking the kiss. With one arm he held himself up, while the other found your hair again, scraping your scalp with his nails.

His hips pressed against yours, making you buck your hips involuntarily to find some friction. Finally breaking the kiss, he moved back to your neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses from below your ear to your collarbone. He nipped at your skin, licking over the mark afterwards.

One hand on the back of his head pushed him closer, the other scratched over the muscles on his back, leaving red stripes between his shoulder blades. Peter moaned against your skin, making his way lower and lower, kissing the valley of your breasts, over your stomach, past your navel and stopping on your abdomen.

He hooked his fingers under the hem of your sweatpants and panties, before looking up to you. Noticing he stopped in his tracks, your eyes found his. Both panting from the sexual tension, you just nodded, a small smile playing on your lips.

“You sure?”, he asked sheepishly, a blush tinting his cheeks and ears. “We don’t have to do anything, you know.”, he added, rubbing his thumbs over your hip bones.

“I know.”, you smiled, biting your bottom lip. “I want to… if you want to.”, you whispered, your heart beating rapidly, almost bursting out of your chest.

A big, goofy grin spread across his lips. He jumped forward in a second to plant a quick kiss to your lips before reclaiming his previous position between your legs and carefully tugging down your sweatpants and panties in one go, discarding them beside your bed.

A mix of emotions took over your mind. Nervousness, anticipation, curiosity and giddiness. Your fingers had a deathgrip on the sheets below you and your eyes were screwed shut.

Peter brushed his palms over your thighs, feeling the nervousness radiating off of you. “If at any point you want to stop, I stop.”, he whispered softly, whereas you only nodded. One deep breath was all it took to calm his own nerves.

He pulled gently until your hips were level with the bed’s edge, hoisting your right leg over his shoulder and pushing the other to the side to spread them apart further. His left hand found your abdomen, holding you down. Gently, his tongue licked a stripe through your folds, ultimately stopping at your clit to start his ministrations.

A surprised gasp left your parted lips, goosebumps simultaneously erupting all over your body. One of your hands ended up in his hair, tugging ever so slightly to ground yourself, while the other still fisted your covers.

With gentle strokes Peter’s tongue circled your clit, sucking it in between licks. His lips encased your bundle of nerves, now sucking harshly and eliciting a deep, throaty moan from you.

“Peter…”, you breathed sensually, your grip on his hair tightening, pushing him closer to your core. A low chuckle left his lips; the vibrations sending a jolt of electricity through your whole body.

Slowly, his free hand crept up your inner thigh until his index finger stroked your entrance. He pushed the one finger in as gently as he could, afraid he might hurt you in the process. However the only sounds coming from you were of pure bliss and pleasure.

“Fuck…”, he mumbled lowly against your clit, before picking up his pace drastically, adding a second finger and scissoring them to strech your walls.

The sounds he pulled from you were straight up pornographic at this point.

“Fuck, Peter.”, you moaned, your knuckles going white from how hard you were fisting your sheets.

“I’m gonna… Oh god.”

You were getting louder and louder by the minute, breathy moans and throaty growls you just couldn’t hold back anymore escaping your gaped lips.

“Come for me, Sweetgirl.”, he demanded, pumping in and out of you relentlessly and hitting that sweet spot inside of you constantly.

With a deep moan and a loud “Fuck!” you came undone in front of him, the coil in your stomach snapping pleasurably. Panting heavily, your whole body jerked up as he slowly pulled his fingers out of you.

You pushed yourself onto your elbows, looking down at him with hooded eyes, your juices glistening on his lips.

The hand in his hair gripped tighter, effectively pulling him on top of you to kiss him deeply. “Fuck, Peter. That was… That was-”

“Good, I hope.”, he grinned, panting just as much as you did, purely from arousal.

“More than good.”, you smiled bashfully, sitting up and pushing him onto the mattress.

“Let me return the favor?” Your fingers were already hooked under the hem of his pants and briefs, only waiting for his consent.

He looked at you with wide eyes, incredulous you were basically offering him a blow job.

“Y-You don’t have to, just because I did, Sweets.”, he stammered, his brain only slowly catching up to everything happening right now. He often daydreamed about such scenarios, never considering them to become reality.

“I want to, Pete.”

“Okay.”, Peter breathed shakily, propping himself up on his elbows to watch you.

Leaning forward you pressed hot, open mouthed kisses just below his navel, traveling further down agonizingly slowly.

His whole torso tensed up in anticipation as you pulled his pants and briefs down. You palmed his erection, stroking his shaft slowly.

Your thumb swiped over the tip, distributing the precum over the head, before lowering your head over his cock, kissing the tip gently.

You could practically feel his breath hitch and get stuck in his throat, one of his hands flying to your hair, fisting a handful of strands tightly.

His mind was completely void of thoughts, anticipating your next move. He looked down at you, eyes hooded in lust.

That was your cue to wrap your lips around his tip, sucking his cock into your mouth languidly, while swirling your tongue around the head.

“Fuck, you look so beautiful with my cock in your mouth.”, he moaned, throwing his head back, breathing heavily.

You hummed approvingly around his dick, sucking him in deeper and pressing your tongue to his underside. One hand rested on his thigh, while the other stroked the rest of his cock you couldn’t fit into your mouth.

A feral growl escaped Peter’s mouth, prompting him to let his head fall back onto the pillow behind him. The hand in your hair guided you gently up and down his length, massaging your scalp in the process.

“Oh god…”, he drawled, his body tensing underneath your fingers.

“Stop, stop.”, he panted, making you stop dead in your tracks.

“Everything okay? Did I… Did I do something wrong?” The lack of experience made you insecure; you really didn’t want to hurt him or anything.

“No! No, I just… I won’t last if you keep doing that.”, he smiled sheepishly.

It was his turn to push you onto your back again, unclasping your bra in the process. Before he lowered himself onto you he got rid of the last clothes on his body. Meanwhile, you threw your now open bra across the room, laying completely bare in front of him.

Your heart beat rapidly in your chest, blood rushing in your ears. Peter knelt between your legs, his gaze flitting over your naked body, taking you in and saving every image deep in his memories, before finding your eyes again. The look he got from you was still insecure, but also adoring, longing.

“You’re so beautiful.”, he breathed affectionately. Lowering his head, he pressed his lips to yours again, cradling your face in one hand, while the other propped him up above you.

Heat crept to your face, making you hide behind your hands to escape his intense gaze.

“No, no, no, no. Don’t you dare hide that pretty face.”, he chastised, grabbing your wrists with one hand and pinning them above your head.

His lips found yours again in a passionate kiss, his length pressing against your thigh making you gasp.

“You sure, like really sure you want this? With me?” He had to make sure again. He didn’t want you to regret your first time someday, because you secretly wanted it to be with someone else.

Your palm found his cheek, tilting his head so he was looking into your eyes. “Yes. Only with you, Peter.”, you whispered, your eyes overflowing with anticipation, happiness and love.

“Fuck, okay. Maybe this is the wrong time, but I have to tell you something before this.”, he started nervously, averting his gaze and dropping his head to your collarbones.

Your hands found his hair again, carding through his locks in hopes of calming him down a little. “What is it, Pete?” You desperately tried to hide your nerves. Was he going to tell you, this was going to be a one time thing? That he would do it as your best friend or just in the heat of the moment? Your anxiety ridden brain couldn’t stop overthinking until he spoke up again.

“I love you… Sweets. I have for a long time now. And… And I don’t expect you to return anything, I… I just needed you to know, I’m not doing this just for the fun of it.”

You could feel his heart thumping against your chest, yours matching his pace. He loved you?

“Peter…”, you stammered, putting your hands against his cheeks to lift his head, so he would meet your eyes. Uncertainty and fear swam in his honey colored orbs, observing your face for any discomfort.

“I love you, too, Pete.” With that, you pressed your lips to his again, leaving no time for him to process your words immediately.

As they did finally process, his hands flew to your neck, pulling you impossibly close. Your arms snaked around his neck, not wanting to let go anytime soon.

“Oh, thank god.”, he whispered, kissing your neck gently. You giggled in response.

“You can’t just make such a dramatic pause before confessing, Sweets! Tryna give me a heart attack or something?”, he laughed, feigning offense, before kissing you again.

Giggling through the first seconds of the kiss, it soon became passionate again, both Peter’s and your hands roaming each other’s bodies. He gently pinched one of your nipples, making you moan as a response before bringing his head down and licking over it.

“You ready?”, he asked softly, looking at you with loving eyes. You nodded your head, biting your lip nervously.

“Tell me if it hurts.”, he whispered, positioning his tip at your entrance and pushing into you as slowly and carefully as he could manage. Your jaw hung slack, trying to get over the stinging sensation between your legs, until it turned into a warm, pleasurable feeling.

“You good?”

“Mhmm.”, you hummed contently, kissing his chin and grabbing his sides, signaling him to start moving.

He took in a shuddering breath before his hips rolled into yours slowly. You threw your head back, a long moan escaping you, as you screwed your eyes shut again, marveling at the feeling of him inside you.

His lips found your neck, nipping, kissing and licking at your soft skin, coaxing sensual sounds out of your parted lips.

His thrusts became quicker, reaching deeper and deeper and hitting your sweet spot again and again.

Peter’s grunts and moans overtook your senses, intoxicating you; making you lose yourself in that moment.

It didn’t take long until you felt the coil tightening again. You pressed your nails into his shoulders, trying to hold onto something, anything really, but to no avail.

“I-I’m so close, Peter.”, you moaned into his ear, prompting him to pick up his pace again, his hips snapping against yours fervorously.

“Come for me, Sweets. Need to feel you come on my cock.”, he whispered against your neck, biting you gently before licking the mark.

His lips found yours again, right as you tipped over the edge, clinging to him as if he was your lifeline.

Your back arched into him; one of his hands resting on the small of your back to press you closer to his body.

“Fuck, Sweets.”, he groaned, reaching his high close behind you, spilling into you.

You both were panting messes, Peter laying on top of you. His head rested in the crook of your neck, while still being inside you.

“That was amazing.”, you whispered against his hair, smiling from ear to ear.

He lifted his head, looking into your eyes and smiling just as wide as you did.

“I love you, Sweets. So much.”, he whispered back, planting an affectionate kiss to your lips before laying back down and tightening his arms around your middle.

“I love you, too, Peter.”

[geminimoonbeamx]

Rhinestone Eyes

A/N: I’ve wanted to post for P.P since I discovered my love for Tom Holland, but well, I could never find a storyline that felt right. After watching No Way Home, it suddenly clicked. A slutty neighbor story.

Warnings: Smut. Lots of it. Hard 18+

Pairings: Peter Parker x Plus Sized Reader. Set four years after NWH. 22 year old P.P 

Summary: Peter finds himself infatuated with the girl who lives at the end of the hall. 

And nobody knows what to do with the heat. 

Under sunshine pylons, we’ll meet 

While rain is falling like rhinestones from the sky- Gorillaz

The traitorous sun bleeds through twisted blinds, and Peter throws an arm over his eyes with a groan. It’s well past noon when he comes to, his ribs throbbing something fierce and achy as he shifts in his lumpy secondhand bed, trying to find a position comfortable enough to grant any kind of relief. 

No dice. 

No amount of counting sheep will keep them from evading him, and after he checks his phone for the time he decides fuck it. He’ll get an early jump on the day. Take a lukewarm shower, work on his web slinger that had gone wonky. Try to get some candids of Spidey-

He’s rinsing the coffee cup that he’d drank dark roast sludge out of when he he hears it. It drifts through the open window, the one above the sink that leads out onto his tiny fire escape. Maybe he’d miss it, if not for his enhanced hearing. If not for the fact that for the past six months or so, his ears stayed pinged, waiting for  that balance of falsetto and bass. 

You live at the end of the hall, in the corner apartment with all of the windows. He has to poke his head out, the only bonus of the missing screen, to catch a peek. 

Your fire escape is drastically different from his own barren metal box. As soon as the frigid winter had bled into a damp spring, and then a scorching summer it had filled up with overflowing greenery. Potted flowers and twisting vines. It stood out against the sea of concrete and brick. 

It’s watering day. His favorite day. You hunch over, a bright pink vase in your hands. Humming, extremely off-tune. You’re on your knees, side profile facing his direction. His eyes trace your face, hair knotted messily on the top of your head. Round shoulders…your tank top is tight, that slinky material that mimics slik. The white of it pops against your summertime tan- 

A shift in your body, he leans out even further on his tip toes, and he can almost see down your top. Not that that matters, no. In this light he can see straight through it. Your nipples pert and tenting, darker underneath the slip of material. 

“Oh, ouch baby.” you whisper, pruning away scorched leaves, addressing your plant soft and sweet. 

He wants you to talk that way to him.  And you probably would, if he asked. 

Fuck, 

He has to peel his eyes away, has to push himself back into his apartment with a huff. He’s buzzing, his boxers are tight. Guilt pooling with the arousal in the pit of his stomach. He shouldn't. Cant. Won’t. 

But you make it hard. Like really, really hard. 

It had started out friendly enough, new apartment. An upgrade from the roach infested shoebox gotten right after he’d dropped out. New neighbors, most people keep their heads down. And the ones that dont, well Peter grew up in Queens. He’s used to the prickly natives, to slammed doors and hollered insults. 

It’s all part of the charm, huh? 

What he hadn't anticipated, was you. The girl in apartment 305.

He’s accustomed to chainsmokers and hoarders but you and your full lipped smiles are foregin. He thought maybe it was because he was new, maybe you treated all of the tenets to bambi eyes and homemade muffins left on doorsteps. 

When he hears you call your downstairs neighbor a “dirty deadbeat bitch”, direct quotes, he thinks that maybe that's not the case. 

For once, he's happy for the workload that has become his life. Between the Daily Bugle and night shifts around the borough he’s barely home, and that's good. Can he call the four walls of his studio home? In all honesty he never really gives himself the time to think about it and he’s pretty sure it’s for the best. 

The more time he’s out, the less time he has to get distracted by cleavage and never ending curves.

 The universe throws you at him, and he suffers as he hands you back. As he ignores the shape of your ass in tight spandex- you’d chatted with him for the entirety of his wash cycle a couple months ago- the small dingy Laundry Room lit up brightly by your laughter. He’d thought about it, nearly obsessively, since. 

Made zero moves to act on it though. He knows better. 

Peter’s good at this, now. Trial and error had led to efficiency. Break some bones, sling some webs. Get some strategically shot content for the Bugles Social Media. Simple-

“Woah. Slow down, Peter” You grin at him, the two of you crossing paths on the stairwell as he hurries down, taking them two at a time. How one can be late for fighting crime, he’ll never know. You’ve changed out of that tank top, tragic, but for the best. “It’s not on my agenda to get knocked down the stairs tonight”

He apologizes, profusely, but you just look amused, tell him that it’s fine, chill out for a minute. What are you rushing for? Work? At this time? Word. 

“I should get going-” he doesn't really want to, would stay and ramble no matter how dumb it made him look. If he could. 

“Why haven't you come to mine for dinner yet?” You question, lip jutted out dramatically. 

-Nothing about you is simple. 

He’d helped haul up a new couch to your apartment a couple weeks ago, and since then you’d been pestering him about thanking him properly. 

Let me say thank you? Please? Pleaseeeee. 

“I’ve been really busy” the incredulous arch of your manicured eyebrow cuts right through him “No seriously, work. And then I uh, volunteer at night. Some nights? I took on this new gig with the Bugle, so that's been a lot. I would, really cause those muffins were insane, so I know you can cook, but I’m busy” He might as well have ‘Asshole’ written across his forehead.  He doesn't want to hurt your feelings, that’s not his intention, not at all. 

While he has a grand mal internal meltdown, you don't seem phased.

“It’s okay, you don't have to lie to kick it” you chuckle and he’s going to start rambling again, would’ve if you hadn't cut him off “I get it, work sucks. Look, I’m going to extend this invite one more time because there's only so much rejection that my fragile ego can take. I’m making dinner Wednesday  night. Be there- or don't. Whichever’s fine, okay?”

You do that thing, that all too friendly hand on his forearm, that comforting little squeeze. Just for a moment. It's paired with long lashed eyes- that literally gleam. Disney princess style. 

“Uh, yeah. Wednesday? I could do Wednesday dinner. Dinner on Wednesday” 

He shouldn't have said that, he knows it the moment it leaves his lips. But he can’t take it back, you're skipping down the steps before he recalibrates, rambling about hoping he doesn't have any crazy allergies. Triumphant.  “Night, Peter” you chime, nearly out of sight, 

He feels a little bit hoodwinked. 

------------

 “So you’re going to fuck this kid? Thats what I’m hearing” 

Your phone is on speaker, propped, as you finish up dinner. It’s nothing fancy, hadn’t been strenuous, but it looks like it is. Herb coated chicken, colorful veggies stir-fried tossed in parmesan and olive oil. You’ll throw some greens onto the plates.

The way to a man’s heart wasn't an old wives tale. It was a spell, whispered, tried and true. 

“No- I don't know, maybe. Stop calling him a kid, it makes me feel gross” You frown, turning off burners, leaning against your counter “He’s only like, a few years younger then us. It’s no biggie. He probably won't even show” 

“But you want him to” 

Duh. Of course you want him to.

 Peter Parker had been an enigma since he’d moved in down the hall earlier this year. He’s hot, and decently nice. A rare combo, especially in this city. Kind of weird, in that twitchy way. You think his social anxiety might be even worse than yours, a feat not easily achieved. 

But you’ve told her all of this. Repeatedly. Given all the tea there was to spill. And still, there was one big glaring question; what was he going to do about it? 

It being the glaringly apparent crush that he had on you. 

That wasn't in question. He really wasn't all that slick. With those lingering glances and lip bites. He wanted to jump your bones, and the thing was- you weren't totally opposed to it.

 I mean yeah, you weren't huge into clothes on any given day but you’d been pulling out the big guns. Honestly, everyone in the building had to have seen your tits by now. 

And still. Nothing. What kind of twenty something year old wouldn't want an in house Booty Call just a few doors down? 

“It’s whatever” you vocally shrug, and really, who do you think you’re fooling. 

“Which is code for you want him to blow your back out. Like I said, three months ago, If he’s not going to make the first move, just do it yourself.” She signs, equal parts annoyed and invested in your constant babble about your hot neighbor that seemed to go nowhere. 

“Isn't that what I’m doing?-” There’s a succession of rapts on your front door “Shit, I think he’s here. Talk to you later, okay?”

“Okay, love you, bye! Have fun- use protection!” click. 

You scramble, if only just for a moment. Foods ready, you’d cleaned your place. Candles lit, the whole shebang. You were a homemaker by nature, you’d been teased. Even more so when you had a reason to be-

Cracking open the front door, you try to keep your face neutral, at bay. Peter stands there in the doorway, visibly nervous. Nearly sweating bullets. You would feel bad, if it wasnt so fucking endearing. 

“Hi- I didn't know what to bring so I stopped by Letty’s. I hope you like coffee cake”

You fold as he holds up the brown paper bag. 

Yeah, it was more than a maybe. You wanted to fuck this guy. The coffee cake was was just the cherry on top of the proverbial Sunday. 

------------

Peter may be kind of awkward and a little bit shy, but he can keep up conversation. Actually, once you get a full plate in front of him, he kind of jabbers, non-stop. The two of you sit, criss crossed on the room in your living room. The coffee table cleared, as good a makeshift dinner setting

as any. 

“Your place looks great, really- It’s kind of crazy that we live in the same building” His eyes take in your home as he shovels potatoes and peppers into his mouth. 

You know. It’s homey, years of decorating and tweaking. Warm lighting and scented candles, plants everywhere, twining across your entertainment center and up your bookshelves. The couch, the very one that he had helped you move, was fluffy and lush- eating up nearly the entire living space, well worth the sacrificed wiggle room. 

“Thanks. I’m big on your space reflects your mental- lame but true” you giggle, taking a quick gul of green tea “Maybe if you ask me real nice I’ll help you decorate” 

He’s fair; his emotions shine clear through his complexion. The tips of his ears turn bright red, but he grins all the same. 

Peter’s just full of praise. 

Goes on about how delicious dinner was, after he puts away way more than you thought possible. You we’re going to send him home with leftovers but oh well.  

The candle smells nice. The couch is looking good. He lists it casually, honestly, and it makes you feel floaty, almost giddy. He likes the songs on that shuffle in your playlist, loves that band! You’ve got to wonder if he knows what he’s doing here, ticking off boxes that you didn't even like to admit existed. 

You put off dessert, just to keep him over for that much longer. You should wait for your stomachs to settle, you’d never cared about that shit, but you feed him that excuse anyway. 

“Uh, okay, yeah sure” He sounds unsure, but sinks into the couch cushions “Thanks for feeding me. I haven't had a home cooked meal in…awhile”

“Stop thanking me! I’ve owed you! I wouldn't have been able to get the couch in without you, which would've been a serious L on my end. This big bitch was expensive” You dump the dishes in the kitchen sink and try to ground the mental image of Peter lifting the couch, and maneuvering it though your door. All by himself- it had taken you and two friends to even get it up the first flight of stairs. 

How he did it, you still don't know. It was stupidly sexy, though. Which is all that really mattered. 

“So your family doesn't live in the city?”

“What?” Peter turns to you sharply, brows shot up high and shoulders beginning to tense. 

“Oh, you said you hadn't had a home cooked meal in a while and I just assumed that you didn’t have any family close by?” you’re trying to maneuver lightly through this situation, you’d already obviously hit a trigger. 

“No. I don't have family in the city” He fails at being cold, and instead just sounds melancholic. He can’t meet your eyes, his hands wring-

Mood unintentionally killed. Shit. 

“Hey, Peter?” you call for him softly, because there was only one thing that could salvage this, “Do you smoke?”

“Uh-”  He watches you disappear into one of the two doors, and then return, your hands full. You clamber over to the couch and pop down next to him, sitting in a way that your entire body faces his. He eyes the canister and the little box of papers “No, not really” 

“That’s okay” you chime, reassuringly “You don’t have to if you don't want to buttttt, if you do, I’m more than happy to share”

You’d started smoking weed in high school and never stopped, you tended to lean towards a low THC indica these days but still had to end most nights with a toke. You weren’t for peer pressuring, it felt very consent teetering, but you were going to light up and he had the choice to join you. It’s second nature, twisting up a joint, you don't think twice about torching the end evenly and taking a deep pull. 

How were you supposed to know that he’d never smoked before? 

He doesn't tell you, just watches, obviously fascinated. You explain the strain, the effects. All of it. You're cerebral, like to look at things through a certain lense. Obviously he does too-

“I’ll try it”  he decides after you’re about halfway through. Curiosity always kills the cat. 

“You sure?”

He nods, and is a grown man, so you hand it to him. 

He coughs a bit, but whatever. No shame, only good vibes, and rhythmic music. The two of you melt, relax into the couch and as time bleeds away; minutes into hours, the small blip is all but forgotten. 

He’s a funny little shit, a total nerd. Opinionated as hell, the two of you argue over just about everything. 

“Look me in my eyes and tell me that The Hobbit is better the original trilogy” 

“The books are!” Peter chuckles, arguing and you’ve never seen him like this. 

He’d shed the hoodie, comfortable in your space now. How does a photographer get those guns? His arms are built and T-Shirt does some really good things for him. You try, and fail, to not focus in on his defined forearms.

“We weren't talking about the books, though, cheater. Peter Jackson popped his pussy on Return of the King” 

His peel of laughter is ringing and loud and you can't help but join in, even though you insist that he knows you’re right. You feel good, leaning back into the cushions, closing your eyes and soaking it up. 

“You look really pretty tonight” 

Your stomach erupts into butterflies and you turn your head, still very much lounging back. You’d been waiting for him to comment on it, wondering if he’d add your appearance to his list of praises.  You’d primped and primed. Spent an hour doing your makeup in that way that was dubbed natural, yet the farthest thing from. Hair pressed flat and sleek. The yoga pants you don cling to every inch of your ass, and you don't wear a bra under the nude colored one shoulder top. 

You want him to look, want him not to avert his eyes everytime they take their fill. 

“Thank you, Peter” you whisper, giving him the look. The deadly one, from under your painted dark eyelashes “You look nice too. You have the best hair” 

When you reach up and run your hand lightly through his curls, his jaw goes crazy. Teeth clenching tight and hard. But he doesn't stop you, have free rein. Your long manicured nails scratch lightly over his scalp and he leans his entire head into your hand. It’s almost sad. 

“Peter?”

“Yeah? Hmm?” He nuzzles your palm, and wow. He really is a puppy dog. 

“Are we going to keep pretending that we’re not into each other?” 

He freezes, goes stark still as the atmosphere around the two of you. The music continues to play, but you don't hear it, not really. You push through it, not this time. Your nail catches just right and a groan escapes through. 

“I shouldn’t ” he’s trying to convince himself more than anything and if it wasn't so hot seeing him tortutre himself, it’d be annoying. 

“Why?” you whine, pulling away. Satisfied when he chases your touch. His hand comes up, cups yours, holds it to his face. His hickory eyes simmer in a way that's…dangerous. So much repressed coming to the surface all too fast. 

You think he’s going to give you some half assed excuse, that he’s going to walk away and leave you high and dry. Instead he presses his lips to yours, hard. You gasp, hard, and his tongue presses instantly into your mouth. What?-

“Wait, sorry” Peter pulls away and your head spins “I should've- consent, you know?” he can barely string together words, is staring at your lips when he speaks them. You snort, this fucking guy. 

“You have my consent, Jesus” what he doesn't have is a moment to process what you’d said, before you're pulling him back in. It’s a little fumbly, and a lot eager.  His hands are everywhere. Grabbing at you, up your thighs, at your waist, pressing into your neck to force your mouth harder to his. You pull back, needing to take a breath that wasn't into his mouth and he groans- 

“Peter!” you gasp sharply as you land in his lap. He’d wrenched you from your place on the couch beside you, and placed you on his lap. Exactly where he wanted you. Your thick thighs swallow him up and he looks very pleased with himself-

“Okay?” He questions, hands already wandering and you nod quick, yeah. Yeah it is. 

You usually tend to stray away from being on top, especially at first. It makes you feel exposed, even in your adult years that nagging voice in the back of your head throws out words like heavy or too much. He pushes you down, man handling you exactly where he wants you, and where the fuck does this guy work out?

His hands are aimless and greedy and your skin tingles all over from his not so gentle groping- you stop them with your own as they shake around your wide hips. Your fingers wrap around his wrists, drag his hands where you want them. You keen sharply as he holds your breasts, squeezing experimental and light. 

Peter’s hips buck violently, lifting both of you up in the air for a moment. His forehead clunks hard and heavy against yours,

“Ow’ you giggle, pulling away and rubbing at the stinging spot. 

“You alright?” He doesn't stop, mouth finding other occupations. Your neck, your chest. It feels so good, “Sorry, sorry” he peppers between kisses, when he nibbles the top of your breast through your top you shift on his lap, 

“Do you wanna go into the bedroom?” You offer, your hips moving in slow, deliberate circles over his groin. For a moment you think that he didn’t catch what you’d offered, he continues to kiss and squeeze. “It’ll be a lot more comfortable then trying to do this on the couch”

“Yeah” he nods “Yeah, let’s go” 

------------

Your bed is large, covered in downy blankets and thick pillows- all of which have seemed to be knocked on to the floor as you and Peter roll around chaotically in the middle of the mattress. The same way you’d been doing for the better part of the last hour. 

You’ve never felt so…wanted, needed. Peter has to have everything, your chest covered in large, lip molded bruises as he tries his best to consume them whole. The throbbing between your legs is intense, from his mouth. His fingers. His surprisingly large cock- it almost hurts, being so full. Has you crying out as his hips piston  between your pillowy thighs, his arms wrapped around your back, crushing the two of you together. 

“Peter” You beg, your sharp nails digging into his shoulders, holding on for dear life. Whatever he kept bottled up every other day of his life, he was now pounding into you. It’s agonizingly good, and you coo in his ear for him to keep going. “It’s okay, Pete, it’s okay. Breathe” 

It's sweaty, the physicality of it intense. Muscle shaking, chests heaving, you hadn't had a work out like this in months. 

“I-I- Fuck” His hips snaps fierce and tight as he buries his face into your neck. He comes as erratically as he fucks, and you hold him through it. Stroking up and down his spine as he starts to calm down. Yeah, he’d gotten you off and it had been okay but there was something…more, about watching him lose it. 

You think you're part of a select few who gets to witness Peter Parker, bare and raw and selfish. 

When he can move, the blankets and pillows are dragged back onto the bed, and you assure him of course, when he questions if he can stay. He clings to you for the entire night. 

------------

Twenty three days, 

It’s been nearly a month since that night, Peter recalls the way you moaned in his ear when he breaks the nose of a deserving burglar. Thinks about your thighs wrapped around him when he assists the police in a bomb threat. Replays the sound of your breathless laughter, over and over, when he wakes up in the morning. Before he falls asleep every night. 

He shouldn't have done it, he knows what happens when he gets too close. It killed people, he’d had to rewrite time to fix the damage his bonds had done. Thinking about MJ and Ned, states over at MIT hurts. Thinking about you three doors over hurts. He cant have either, 

“With great power comes great responsibility”

And isolation. And gnawing guilt.

Ignoring you makes him feel lower than shit. You probably hate him, for dodging you at every chance. For slipping out of your bed that morning without a word, it’s cool. He's not a fan of himself either. 

It takes twenty three days and a fight he doesn't win. A fatal one; innocents slain and dozens injured and while the perp didn't get away, Peter feels the loss weigh him down. 

He’s strong, he’ll heal. He reminds himself of the fact as he crawls through his bedroom window. He’s black and blue and bloody, crimson swirls down the drain in the porcelain of his tub as showers. 

He’s okay. He’ll heal. 

He sits at the foot of his bed, body going numb, mind going a mile a minute. 

-

It’s no surprise to either of you when he shows up on your doorstep. He’s pathetic and beat to shit, but you don't throw the fact in his face. Instead you open the heavy door wider, granting him entrance with a sigh. 

He needs this. He won't do it again. 

You wrap your arms carefully around him and he feels like he can breathe. 

He won't do this again-

Peter Parker has always been a terrible liar. 

Thinking about making this a mini-series! Let me know if you’d want to be tagged in future installments. Comments and reblogs are a writers best friend, so if you enjoyed this- tell me! I’d love to chat about our Short King Tom Holland. 

[int-writersmind]

I Hate Christmas, Peter Parker {Part 3}

Peter Parker x f!Reader

It’s simple: You don’t see what the big fuss is all about surrounding Christmas, but Peter Parker thinks that this is unacceptable and puts you through the last of a multiple step list to make you fall in love with the holiday. 

{Read Part 1}

Warnings: Fluff,

Word Count: 1.8k

Authors Note: In order to get this out today, this is not well edited. I will fix it soon.

Peter rarely spent the night, often heading back into the city after a few hours of sleep. But this morning, a shirtless, sleeping vigilante was a welcome sight in your bed. You very carefully climb out of bed, limbs slowly reaching over Peter’s body. 

You were just starting to prepare your coffee when Peter shuffled out your bedroom, dressed only in his underwear and messy hair. “What if breakfast in bed was on the list?” Peter comes up next to you, kissing your cheek as he goes to pour his cup. 

“Please,” You smile slyly as his arm wraps around your lower waist. “You don’t need Christmas to do that.”

“Yeah I know, but I do have something for today.” 

“Really?

“Yeah and I know at first you’re gonna hate it, but I promise that at the end–”

“I’ll love it so much that my heart will grow ten times it’s size.” You interject.

Peter glares at you before downing his drink. “Trust me ok?”

Peter stands there arms folded. “And will Peter Parker go out in his Spidey cosplay or birthday suit?”

It takes Peter a second before he notices his current situation. “I left some stuff here right?”

You think for a moment before taking another sip of your drink. “Yeah, but I think you have to borrow one of the coats.”

~

You found yourself standing in the cold of Bryant Park. You felt your cheeks start to turn red by the time Peter found you. He was in a nice dark blue pea coat, jeans and sneakers. He kisses you on the cheek before looping your arm in his. “Ready?”

“I want to say yes, but I don’t know what I’m agreeing to.”

“Fair enough,” Peter leads you through the sitting area, towards the temporary winter village that is always set up during the holiday season. A crowded place with overpriced items, tourists and gullible natives. It had its charms but it mostly had drawbacks. “What I’m proposing is a full day filled with Christmissy fun, but in an appetizer style, since we don’t have that much time.”

That was an understatement, it was less than a week till Christmas, so everything was sent into overdrive and increasingly more busy. It was so busy that it was a struggle for the two of you to fit down the rows of little shops. You tried your best to put on a face that didn’t imminently give away how much you hated all of this.

“As much as I like spending time with my adoring boy-toy, a full, uninterrupted day together seems unlikely” You gently squeeze Peter’s hand to get him to look at you. “It’s not like you can just up and ignore your other job.”

As the two of you reach the end of one row, a stand that was giving out free samples of warm cider. You wince as you take a sip, Peter gives you a reluctant smile. “I think that NYC's finest can keep the city safe today.”

You give him a look.

“Listen if things get that bad then I’ll go…and only then.” Peter finishes his drink before taking yours and finishing it right there.

“Fine Parker, let’s try to enjoy this day.”

~

As the two of you slowly shuffled your way through Bryant Park Winter Village, You settle on buying one thing from a booth with monogrammed Christmas stockings. You try to hide your smiling face from it, but Peter quickly catches a photo of you with his camera you didn’t realize he brought with him

After the initial snap you jokily start posing. Peter indulges with one extra, you sticking out your tongue.

There was only one close call, when some sirens caused Peter to snap his head in that direction. You place a hand on his arm, giving him an understanding glance. Peter takes your hand in his. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily” he says.

Peter grabs your hand and leads you to a PhotoBooth where the two of pose for pictures. One with you kissing him on the cheek, another where you both cross your eyes and make stupid faces, a third where you guys make a threatening faces, hands up ready to fight and, lastly a genuine smile because why not. You collect your photos from the outside after spending way too much on them and choosing a festive border (Peter’s choosing). “God these are actually more expensive than I remember." You say.

"Same, anyway, let's head to the next place." Peter says.

~

So your plan is for us to just stare at Radio City?” you say, as you stand across the street, watching patrons line up and enter the building.

“Well, did you want to watch the show?” Peter asks.

“Oh no.”

Some nearby buskers start playing Christmas songs, as the two of you start walking down the sidewalk. “The real reason behind this was that Radio City is just on our way to our next place, just thought you would get some residual Christmas magic.”

You just shake your head and pull Peter closer to you, arms linked with one another. You guys continue to walk down the sidewalk as the buskers continue their show. Instead of just walking by like every New Yorker, he slows down, forcing the pair of you to join the small cluster that has surrounded the performers. Peter takes off his camera and hands it to you as he goes and joins some people dancing to the music.

You giggle quite loudly, trying to cover your face with your hand. You pick up the camera, lining up your eye to the viewfinder. Using some basic camera skills that Peter taught you one date night , you snap a photo of Peter locking arms with a random passerby, dancing in a circle.

When Peter notices you and the camera he unlocks from the stranger and grabs on to you. The two of you sing and dance to the music all the way to the end of the song, you carefully holding the camera in your hand.

At the end of the song, with a scatter round of applause, the two of you stand close to one another, breathing heavily from the erratic dance moves. “So did I get through that ice cold, Christmas hating heart?”

You crinkle your nose, “Maybe just a crack.”

~

The last location was ice skating at Central Park, and as the two of you got there the sun was beginning to get low, casting a warm amber glow on a cool day becoming an even chiller night. 

Peter was a wobbly mess, like a newborn giraffe who was born with ice blades on his hooves. You somehow were a graceful ice princess, spinning circles around him, almost as if all those causal visits to the ice skating rink in high school were actually worth the price of admission. “Oh come on Petey! You’re telling me you can walk on synthetic webs the size of tightropes but can’t handle some ice and blades?”

“I don’t see how that applies to this situation.”

You brake in front of him, before offering him your hands, taking his and leading him forward while you skate backwards. “Balanced babe, it’s all about balance.”

After a few strides, and with your help, Peter was able to finally pick it up. Letting go one of your hands, using the other to spin you in a circle before pulling you back to him.

The two of you skate for a few minutes in silence, people watching , families, friends, couples. You catch yourself smiling at these people, but do nothing to get rid of it. 

Snowflakes start to fall from the sky, you notice them first falling on a middle-aged couple as the two of you pass by, and as children cast their gaze upwards trying to catch the flakes on their tongue, you mimic them as well. Letting your tongue stick out, catching a few cold drops. Was it childish? Yes? Unsanitary? 100%, but it was fun to indulge.

Click, another photo, you turn your head towards Peter who’s smiling, “Good picture?” You ask.

“Always.”

~

And at the end of the day, Peter walks you back to your apartment building, and back to your apartment, through the door, lips crashing into one another, bodies bumping into the Elf on the Shelf, hands getting lost in each other's hair. Before anything else can happen, a flurry of police sirens go by your windows, more than typical in the city, a potential big deal. 

You lay on the couch, half supporting yourself as you watched Peter contemplating his next move. He looks at you, almost asking permission, “Go ahead Spider-Boy.” He smirks back but before he gets changed you pull him to the couch, lips close to his. “But don’t think I don’t remember your promise you made to me for going through all this.”

Peter smiles, “Of course.”

A few moments later you watch as Spider-Man jumps out your window, sitting by for a few seconds longer before getting up from the couch and picking up the Elf on the Shelf. “Count yourself lucky you didn’t get scared tonight.” You say that thing.

Epilogue

The light from the christmas tree was the only thing that illuminated your apartment, Peter and You sat on your couch handing each other presents. You came home after a long Christmas day with your parents (at the suggestion of Peter.), it wasn’t as unbearable as you thought it would be. The old folks kept the arguments to a minimum, Mom made some delicious cookies, and Dad gave you some cash to help pay your bills. It was low-key and not in your face Hallmark movie feeling—just how you like it. Peter and You agreed to meet up at your place after he came back from visiting May, to spend the evening together and give presents to one another. 

“No, you have to admit it!” Peter said quite loudly, holding your present hostage in his arms.

“Ugh, no I will not!” You roll your eyes, falling back on the couch before sitting back up. “It was just a dumb little game–”

“A dumb little game that I won.”

“Won? Wow, that's an overestimate of events.”

“Oh please,” Peter says, he hands you the present. “Open this and maybe you’ll change your mind.”

You glance at Peter before opening the box. Inside, tissue paper, you remove that and see a photobook– To Little Miss I Hate Christmas, Peter, written on top. You flip through the pages, photos from various moments this month, some you remembered and others you forgot about. A picture of you in front of your favorite coffee shop, another of you from behind looking at your Christmas tree, another where you held the peace sign up in front of an unlit tree, and lastly some photos from your super packed day. You look up at Peter, a smile creeping on your face. “Oh Peter, I love it. Wait, quickly open mine.”

You hand Peter your present, bringing a hand to your mouth, biting on your nails. You watch slightly nervous as Peter rips the paper off, opening the package– A camera strap with embroidered spiders hidden throughout. “This is great.” Peter says.

“Are you sure? Not on the nose?”

“Of course not, it’s wonderful” Peter leans over and kisses you on the lips. “What about your present? You are a believer now.”

Your grip on the book is a little tighter now, “Well I won’t say that Christmas is now my all time favorite holiday but…it’s…more bearable with you around.”

Peter just smiles at you, “Now that was corny.”

“Shut up!” you throw the pillow at him. “You liked it, I know you did.”

“And I couldn’t ask for a better ending.”

~

Hey, thanks so much for reading till the end. This wasn't really how I wanted the series to come out but I still had fun. Anyway happy holidays and come back for a new year's gift???

[ronearoundblindly]

Autumn Is Healing (Oct 4th)

Flufftober Day Four--Supporting Silly Quirks/Hobbies

drabble for steve rogers x super soldier!reader (see previous or series)

Warnings for vague references to past Hydra abuse WC 1345 Don't need much context except that reader's chosen name at this point is Autumn Rose Barnes.

Steve took you to the Botanical Gardens multiple times because you looked at every single thing for so long. You flagged down employees to ask all sorts of questions about the plants’ native habitats (but far more specific ones than the placards beside them had) and about the soil they grew in. He encouraged your questions until some of the employees became miffed and ran out of information. That’s when he offered to look the rest up online…and…

You didn’t seem to know what that meant really.

A whole other string of dates that turned into—navigating you through the internet. Suddenly, Steve Rogers became the tech wiz of a pair, and it was oddly satisfying.

Ok, so they weren't dates, not yet, but he hoped...one day.

Your gardening time started out, supervised, for an hour daily, and then longer, and now you can go unsupervised with a tracking anklet on. Weirdly, or perhaps not, Steve fought harder for you to get space and time by yourself than you did. You’re just so used to being ordered or surrounded.

At one point, the lab panicked when chemicals went missing, several of which could be used to make explosives. The security cameras caught you taking them, and after Steve had to beg to handle it alone so you wouldn’t spook (if something was really wrong), he found you adjusting the soil levels of those nutrients so that your plants would grow better. 

No one thought about that because it was almost winter, but you, you were preparing.

Steve’s heart fluttered a little at the thought that you planned to stay there until at least the spring or summer. You’d already grown some roots.

He’s thrilled, but further essentials for your garden are never procured from the lab.

Your little plot just past the tree line is basically the guaranteed place to find you.

Today, when Steve comes to find you for lunch, he hears you singing.

“Cause I give you a—a—a—all of me, and you give me a—a—a—all of you…”

Your voice is soft and quiet. You can’t hear Steve’s approach, wearing top-of-the-line headphones Peter Parker gave you as a “you’re-awake-now” gift. (You still don’t have a real birthday, and when people randomly present you with things, you have this devastating, quirky smile that paralyzes Steve. He can’t decide whether to wrap you in a bear hug or take a picture to sketch later.)

“Cards on the table, we’re both showing hearts, risking it although it’s hard…”

Even though you bustle around in the dirt and check a trellis, you don’t notice him until a full tune later. Steve imagines maybe you’re thinking of him during those love songs but shakes off the hope as you jump a little.

“Hey,” you squeak, pulling the headphones away and staring at the ground, “you startled me.”

“Didn’t mean to, Rosie. Just wanted to see if you’d like lunch.”

“Oh.” You inventory your progress in the garden with a sweeping gaze. “Ok sure.”

When you get to the common room kitchenette, food spread out buffet-style, Steve casually says “help yourself” and waits.

You stare blankly at the countertop full of different dishes, some hot, some cold, some dessert, fresh fruit, sliced bread, and rolls, but you don’t make any move to choose.

“Take anything you want, doll. Whatever you like,” he tries again, a light hand at your back for encouragement. “It’s alright.”

Your hands are clasped together tight. After a few seconds, you turn to look up at Steve with huge eyes.

“I don’t know,” you whisper. “I don’t know what I like.”

Automatically, Steve smiles. “Sure you d—“ and then he thinks, really thinks.

In your old room, the cell down in interrogation, each meal was brought straight to you. After that, when you were still most comfortable following Bucky around, you ate what he ate, when he ate. When you started having regular meals with others, Steve only remembers a plate being brought to you, and you always, always ate everything on it. He can’t recall a single time you asked for more, nor a moment when you brought up being hungry, not even an instance of you grabbing a snack from the fridge or counter.

In fact, the only thing he’s seen you get for yourself is water, and you use the exact same nondescript cup every single time. You had it down in the cell. You take it to your room. You take it outside. You wash it yourself.

Here he was, just assuming you were a good eater who didn’t like waste.

The reality dawns on Steve: you ate whatever Hydra gave you. You were not allowed a preference. You were not given a choice.

“Can’t you just—“ you cross your arms and curl into yourself “—do it for me?”

Steve’s eyes frown while his lips gently smile.

“Why don’t we both try a tiny bit of everything and see what tastes good?”

You do not look convinced.

He goes incredibly slow. “Take a plate and follow me, yeah?”

He watches you struggle to serve yourself food for the first time in forty years. It’s not a struggle because the spoons and tongs are unwieldy—though salad is always a hassle—and it’s not because any of it is particularly unfamiliar or exotic. You glance repeatedly at his hand when it moves forward, convinced Steve will knock yours away for taking too much. He almost asks at the other end of the counter if you think that’s enough food, but that’s just it—

You wouldn’t know.

As super soldiers, neither of you has any allergies to ingredients. Your iron stomachs can handle just about anything, so this is all about taste.

It takes some coaxing, but after sampling about a quarter of the options on your plate, you finally arrive at something obvious.

That. You do not like that bit there.

A good start. Steve chuckles a little and points at something else for you to try. You obey, spitting it back out almost immediately.

“Bleh,” you garble, sticking out your tongue.

“Hey, now,” Steve starts, laughing harder, “that’s one of my favorites.”

You eat a roll to get the taste out of your mouth.

“Oh well, Bucky doesn’t like tapioca either. He’s given me guff my whole life about it, too.”

“I have dirt that tastes better than that,” you gripe, pointing your fork at the little glob accusingly, so what else does Steve do but reach over and take it all in one swipe.

He exaggerates a moan of pleasure with his mouth full.

“Ew!” You lean back in horror. “You’re disgusting.”

Steve lifts a hand to talk around his bite. “Oh come on, you know you like me,” he blurts before thinking.

He almost chokes on the food when you grin, stuttering and looking straight down at your plate, ripping bits of bread apart, nervous in a different way suddenly.

Steve feels like a ninety-pound asthmatic again. He clears his throat harshly, scrambling to find a less awkward way to do literally anything he would normally do.

“So…”

Steve Rogers, Captain of Smooth-Talking, clearly.

“Fruit is probably a safer choice for you.” He deftly slices up an apple and hands you a piece.

Your thumb brushes across the tip of his middle finger to take it.

“Yeah, probably.” And while you munch on the crisp apple, your fork toys with some ever-safe mac and cheese at the closest corner of your plate. Speaking solidly toward the table, voice quiet but very clear, you add, “you seem to know what I like.”

It’s a day of renewed discoveries because with the way his throat seizes up, he’s going to need an inhaler for the first time in eighty years.

After another beat, you look up again. “I bet I can guess your favorite flower,” you charm slyly, elbows on the table, hands under your chin.

“Not much of a challenge…” Steve mutters, because now his most beloved flower is a rose, and he’s sure it always will be. 

beautiful divider by @silkholland; challenge details @flufftober

*Features lyrics from "All of Me" by John Legend

[Day Three; Day Five]

[Chronological Next Part]

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[landothemuppet]

love is in the simple things ♡ t.h

pairing

↳ tom holland x reader

summary → first date with tom.  

words count: 735 words

n/a  → hello love! it’s been a while i didn’t post a thing on my tumblr. I have so many wip to done, i’m so late with that and i’m so sorry about that. So, to make me wait for bigger fic, here’s a little blurb, asked by the lovely, the sweetest @justapurrcat​ ! Thank you sweetie! 

ps; don’t forget english is not my native language. I hope you will love it ! Stay aware on my blog for more blurb and fic, it’s coming. I promise

Love is found in the simple things. Even when you're dating a celebrity. Tom was Tom to you, not Spider-Man or Peter Parker or Nathan Drake or Arvin Russel. Tom was not Tom Holland, only Tom for you. You expected nothing from him, nothing more than what he wanted to give you. And a simple “hello” slowly turned, over the days, into "I'm going to take Tessa for a walk today. Would you like to come with me?".

So it's just as simple as you joined the Brit in the park. Tessa was a very social and affectionate dog, you had no trouble approaching her, with delicacy and restraint, to greet her. And after she sniffed your hand and showed her agreement, you tickled between her ears with a frank and happy smile. Tom scratched the back of his neck with a small smile, looking so good in his simple, slightly baggy jeans and oversized t-shirt, layered over a gray long-sleeved undershirt. Tom, simply, as you appreciate it. 

He complimented your outfit and your cheeks hurt from smiling so much. 

"There's this little trailer near Tess' favorite spot. Can I...can I get you a coffee there?" Tom asked you, shyly and you thought that was absolutely adorable

You bit your lower lip, still smiling, your eyes sparkling with vitality and joy to share such a normal moment with Tom. You realized he was waiting for an answer and just shook your head positively. The glint of joy in Tom's eyes was then reflected in a blissful smile.

"You'll see, they also make delicious Belgian waffles. I always get one and an extra whipped cream on the side for Tess. I know it's not good for her, but I like to make her happy. She has the right to eat some little sweets too..."

You let out a melodious and sincere laugh at the playful tirade of the boy who made your heart beat, then looked at him with a tender look.

"I would love to try these Belgian waffles, Tom" you confessed with a huge smile.

It didn't take you more than ten minutes to get to the trailer in question. It was all wooden, it wasn't a cold iron food truck like you used to see. No, it looked really warm, friendly and the window display made your mouth water. Tom ordered and offered you the snack, you thanked him even though you wished to return the favor.

The waffle was delicious, you had taken the whipped cream supplement with a caramel topping and a few chocolate chips. The moment was simple, happy and you couldn't help but laugh at the sight of Tom.

"You have chocolate everywhere" you said with amusement 

"Where?" he asked trying to erase the wrong side of his face

"Wait, right here"

You took a self-service towel and wiped the actor's face like a small child, wrinkled your nose with an amusing grimace before laughing again.

"There, here we are "

"Thank you"

He looked his chocolate eyes into yours and you smiled, more shyly this time. Tom really appreciated that you liked him for him and this first date with you seemed so natural to him, as if he could already tell you everything. That's why he started, without fear

"I really want to kiss you, but I don't want to overstep the bounds."

Your eyes shone with blazing emotion, genuinely appreciating this man's gallantry. You shook your head positively, not sure the words would come out of your mouth. Tom then leaned over you and placed his lips against yours. First it was a simple kiss, an almost chaste touch before your lips moved into each other more tenderly. Like the English gentleman he was, Tom pulled out before the kiss grew hot. 

It was at this precise moment that Tessa pulled on the leash in an attempt to chase some ducks. Tom's arm fluttered in surprise, dipping his waffle and whipped cream onto your nose. After the shock of the action, and a small reprimand for his dog, the Brit laughed and joked.

"Oh no, Y/N!, you have whipped cream everywhere" he laughed at you.

"Oh, is it true? I hadn't noticed! Do you want to give me a hug, Tom?"

You stretched your arms out to him, laughing out loud, followed by Tom. Yes, that first date was perfect...And the love was in the simple things.

[healmydesires]

welcome to my blog!

ml. twenties. they/them. autistic.

I am terribly obsessed with multiple fictional characters.

I am not an english native speaker, it’s my third language, so I am here to improve my writing! I love to make people laugh and I love to make new friends , so don’t be afraid to talk to me whenever you want to!

my main is heartfairy.

I am not requesting feedback pls don’t send me unsolicited advice <3 I know I’m here to improve it, but don’t be mean or don’t send me advice I didn’t ask for… it’ll only make me feel like shit.

I’ve decided to make a side blog for my upcoming fics or ideas and fic recs. as of right now I won’t be taking any detailed requests, but I am completely open for ideas or small requests, so you can always come and ramble and scream in my inbox! I’d love that. I do prefer requests from prompts I will reblog here and there! I will still keep up my old works on my main but I wanted to start something clean and fresh! <3

masterlist here

I often reblog fic recs to @4anakin , so if you see that blog in your notifs, just know it’s my side blog :)

I don’t want any minors to interact with me. whether I write explicit / mature content or not. please respect this.

as of right now I’m writing for logan howlett, anakin skywalker, joel miller, marcus pike, steve harrington, tasm!peter parker and robin buckley. It might change eventually but those are my special interests/comfort characters. I might be writing for more female characters eventually but I don’t think I will be writing for any other male characters right now! <3

⋆*｡ recently posted

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needy - anakin skywalker x reader (kinktober)

It’s warming up - anakin skywalker x reader

caught your fever I’ll be feeling it forever - anakin skywalker (modern!au) (part one)

if you make me feel in love, then I’ll blossom for you - anakin skywalker (modern!au) (part two)

cross that line - logan howlett x reader

sweet like sugar - logan howlett x reader

⋆*｡ wips

enchanted - prince!steve harrington x reader royal!au (teaser here)

[faerieemetal]

curls | p. parker

this blog contains content that is 18+ only. minors, blank blogs and ageless blogs, do not interact. please read more about protecting minors and read my blog rules and guidelines before you interact/follow.

PAIRING ─── peter parker x afro-indigenous!fem!reader

SUMMARY ─── reader tries to go to school with her natural curls for the first time in years but her insecurities rear its ugly head.

WARNINGS ─── 18+, MINORS DNI. hair insecurities. sad thoughts. soft!peter. fluff. flash being an ass. awkward!peter.

AUTHOR'S NOTE ─── hey guys! since i haven't seen any peter parker x afro-indigenous!reader, i decided to write one myself based on some personal experiences of mine. yes, i do get insecure about my natural curls sometimes and i am trying to work through it which is why i wrote this. if anyone else has had this struggle and is also working through it, i just want you to know you're beautiful and you got this! <3

main masterlist | peter parker masterlist

She looked at her reflection in the mirror and her shoulders dropped at the frizzy mess atop of her head. She sectioned her hair into smaller pieces and grabbed the brush sitting on the counter and turned on the tap while rubbing the corner of her eye. She held the brush under the cold water and started at the ends of her hair and worked her way up to the roots. Once that section was damp and all the knots were out, she moved onto the next section and repeated the same process until all of her curls were damp and free of knots. She grabbed the container of moisturizer and the scent of shae butter and coconut oil filled the bathroom as she rubbed the white cream from the ends to the roots.

She looked at her reflection in the mirror once all her curls were given the moisture they needed and debated whether or not she should go out with her curls sticking out everywhere like a lion's mane. She sighed as she picked up the blue scrunchie and put it around her wrist and decided to at least try to get through the first half of the day with her natural look.

While she was on the train to Midtown High, she momentarily forgot her hair was out until the breeze would come in through the open doors and push some of her curls into her face. Once the train reached her stop, she got off and walked down the block to the building which she went to school and hurried inside. There was five minutes left before class and she had already gotten two warnings for being late. One more strike and she'd end up in detention which was something she definitely didn't want.

As she was walking through the hallway, she ignored eye contact with the other students a little more than usual.

They probably don't care. Why would they care? God, I'm so stupid for worrying about this!

"Hey, Y/N! You do something different with your hair?" Flash asked as he walked past her locker with a little smirk on his face.

"Buzz off, Flash," she snapped as she rolled her eyes.

"I just noticed something different with you but then I realized it was the birds nest on top of your head," Flash laughed before her walked away and Y/N bit the inside of her cheek as her hand gripped the strap of her bag.

She had never wanted to punch someone more than she ever wanted to punch stupid Flash Thompson square in the nose. He couldn't go one day without without being a self-absorbed asshole and Y/N despised it with her entire being. She inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly as she quickly grabbed her textbook and hurried to class and got to her seat just before the bell rang, letting the students know that it was time for class to start.

As she was taking notes, she could hear whispering behind her back but couldn't make out what they were saying. She tried to tell herself that they were probably talking about how to calculate the equilibrium and not about how her thick curls were probably blocking them from seeing the board. She swallowed thickly as she ignored it and decided to go with the rational explanation and continued writing in her notebook.

By lunch time, Y/N felt like she was going to burst at the seams. It had only been the first half of the day and she couldn't get rid of the image of Flash's mocking smile out of her head. This idiot really had nothing better to do with his time but she was tired of her insecurities gnawing at her so she finally caved in and used the scrunchie on her wrist to put her hair into a bun. She tried to get through the day but it didn't go the way she wanted it to.

As she was mulling over how pathetic it was for her to give into such a stupid insecurity, she noticed one of her classmates, Peter Parker, sitting down in front of her. She tried to smile but it didn't feel real and she was sure that even he could tell it was fake.

"What's up, Peter?" Y/N greeted him and he simply nodded with that boyish smile of hers.

"I just wanted to see how you were doing. Are you okay?" Peter asked and Y/N just shrugged her shoulders as she avoided eye contact.

"I'm fine," she said simply.

"You just looked like you were upset and I thought it would help if I sat down with you," Peter said as he fidgeted with his fingers.

"Really, I'm fine. Just had a bit of a patchy morning, is all," Y/N replied as she tried to shrug it off.

Peter laughed nervously as he looked down at the table, struggling to find the right words to say without sounding like a weirdo.

"Uh, this is gonna sound very awkward, but um, I noticed you had your hair out today and I, uh, I thought it was really pretty," he stammered and the corner of Y/N's lips twitched upwards by a little bit as she played with her bracelet.

"I felt like I had a birds nest on my head," she sighed.

"Your hair is really beautiful! You usually have it in a ponytail or a braid or a bun like now," Peter said and Y/N tilted her head as she narrowed her eyes at him.

"Are you watching me, Parker?" she questioned and his eyes widened as his mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water.

"No! I mean, you sit two seats in front of me in chemistry and right in front of me is Flash. But I promise, I'm not watching you!" her said frantically and Y/N smiled as she leaned back and looked at him.

"Relax, I was just playing," she said and the boy exhaled with relief and Y/N's smile started to fade. "My mom used to do my hair for me but she can't anymore so I had to learn to do it myself and even years later, I still have no idea what I'm doing."

Peter slightly nodded, not knowing what else to say except, "How long has it been since you left your hair out?"

Y/N shrugged her shoulders as she looked down at her knees. "Around the fifth or sixth grade, I think. My mom got sick and couldn't do my hair for me anymore and up until this year, I didn't know what to use for my hair until my older sister suggested something for me. And up until now, I always had my hair up or braided because no matter what I did, it always looked like a mess and it was such a hassle I cut it twice so it would be more manageable and it's been growing back for a year now," she explained and chuckled bitterly to herself. "Nevermimd, it's stupid."

Peter frantically shook his head as he sat up straight. "No, no! It's not stupid at all. I really like your hair however you do it, as long as you feel comfortable with it," he said.

Y/N sighed as he shoulders sagged. "I tried to go a day with my hair out and didn't even make it passed lunch," she mumbled.

"Well, we all have to start somewhere. Next time Flash says something, let me know if you want me to kick his ass," Peter said and Y/N laughed but he just looked right back at her.

"You're serious. Flash will not hesitate to use his popularity status to get you suspended or even expelled," she said but Peter shrugged his shoulders.

"Okay, maybe I won't kick his ass. But no matter what he says, your hair is beautiful," he said and Y/N smiled sadly.

"You know, I wish I had a friend like you all these years ago. All my friends in elementary school either touched my hair like they were in a petting zoo or they would tell me my hair would look prettier if it was straightened," she said and sighed at the memories.

"Your hair is pretty no matter what you do with it. And just between you an me, I would like to see your hair out some more. But only if you're comfortable," Peter said and Y/N smiled.

"We'll see."

ENDNOTES ─── to get notified as soon as possible, follow @faeslibrary and turn on post notifications.

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