#spideygirl writes

[spideyspeaches]

Radioactive ↬ p.p

A/N: ...it's here 🤡 the gif is unrelated I just wanted an excuse to use it :D also thanks to @subspider for being the bestes bestie ever <3 and @hollandsmushroom too!!! for never giving up on me UwU

Warnings: unprotected sex (18+ only!), s m u t

WC: 5k

Pairing: College! Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: a one night stand with your best friend changes your life.... literally :D

Masterlist || Taglist

To say that you missed Peter and Ned would be an understatement. Ever since you were little kids, you were known as the inseparable trio that everybody was either fond of or jealous of. You would do everything with the dorks- play legos, go to swimming pools, sing in the choir, all the shebang.

Unfortunate times led to you moving out with your parents, separating you from them.

Time seemed to be on your side though. Just when you thought that you would never meet them again, you moved into the dorms of MIT, crashing into one Peter Parker and his just as astonished aunt May and mentor- Tony Stark. To this day, he had only heard of the infamous “Y/N L/N”, only believing when his protege showed him pictures of you, him and Ned together.

(The burning absence of Uncle Ben confused you- he was like a second father to you. Until you knew what happened to him.)

It was during orientation that you had run into the pretty brunette for the third time before classes started, that you finally took a good look at his blushing and dimpled cheeks had been the first thing you noticed, and then the familiar honey brown eyes that made you want to drown in them, and then the smile that was all too familiar for your liking. He was taller than you remembered, broader too. His eyes, though still innocent, had a dark look to them that made your head spin and wonder what exactly had he been up to lately.

Eight years of missing them and an evening of incessant teachers swarming your schedule, You had reunited with him, your dorky best friend. Your dork best friend who may or may not be the attention of Massachuchets Institute of Technology, Boston, granted it was more to do with a certain night time vigilante.

(Who was he kidding with the mask, people were smart in MIT, smart enough to know when to open their mouths and when not to.)

It didn’t come of as a shock to everyone in the room that you knew the dorky spider kid even before you knew who your classmates were, many people were acquainted with each other through summer scholarships. But it was cute nevertheless.

“It’s like you’re meant for each other, you know?” Your roommate, Gwen sighed, chuckling at your forlorn expression. You looked at her with your eyebrows raised, hot blood rising up your cheeks as a delayed reaction of his face being tattooed in your brain.

“It’s not like that, friends unite all the time, okay? Small world, is all.” You grumbled, falling into the scratchy mattress. You were sure that to have a resting heart rate above hundred was dangerous, but you couldn’t fight it. Thinking of him did that to your insides. Yuck.

“Whatever.” She groaned, shifting her position on her bed, dragging out the word as if she was tired, “In case you’re not interested though? I’m all up for jumping that tree.”

“Ew, keep your fantasies to yourself Gwennie!” You giggled, ignoring the pang in your chest and throwing a pillow at her, “aughty girl.”

“I’m not joking!”

The pestering you and him about your “inside jokes” and how you were “Soulmates” never ceased from Gwen or Felicia or Ned, which ouch. The taste of betrayal was sour.

The teasing became worse when they found out that you had given him a promise ring before moving out of Queens, and that he had still kept it with him.

“I mean, my best friend moved out and hasn’t kept in touch with me, I need something to remember her.” He said with a tiny smirk, eyes twinkling as you looked at the promise ring tied around his neck in a golden chain.

“Yeah, sorry for not answering your dorky emails filled with memes.” You joked, rolling your eyes at his blushing cheeks. You felt a pang of guilt in your chest at the real reason for not keeping up, and you didn't want to reveal it to him either.

“Ouch, I didn’t just send memes!” He replied with indignation. The back and forth went for a while, both of you catching up, him giving you updates about Ned and MJ (who he dated for a while… until she realised she was more into Felicia Hardy than Peter Parker. You wouldn’t have suspected much back when you were eight years old, with how she always gushed about her crush on “the loser”.)

Time moved too fast from then on, and you knew that your unfortunate crush on him would eventually resurface. You didn’t remember exactly when it happened, probably when you saw him standing in the common room with his back facing you while he excessively buttered his 7/11 brought bagel, oblivious to the starry eyes you were giving him, or maybe it was when you were sitting next to him as he tutored you in chemistry in your dorm, shoulders touching innocently as your mind whirled at the sudden and unobstructed love you felt in your chest, hyper aware of his glasses slipping off of his face that you wanted to move up the bridge of his nose. Craving for just one touch of his skin.

Honestly, all you saw was an angel, your heart hammering against your ribs, all the memories of you and him as you played in the playground of Midtown elementary flashing in front of your eyes, a lump forming in your throat.

You knew that you were a goner at that very moment. You didn't care though, didn't give a fuck about the fact that you might spoil your friendship, make it weird if feelings were not reciprocated. You were done living in a constant “what if” scenario like it were some kind of twisted child’s play.

Walking towards him, you smothered a giggle as you watched him sway his booty with some music that was going on in his head, failing to do so when giggles erupted from you anyways.

“Y/n! Oh my god don’t sneak upon me like that!” He shrieked, his bagel flying up as he caught it easily, butter on all of his fingers now.

“What, your Peter tingle not working?” You laughed, watching him lick the butter off his hand. Your laughter came to an end as he kept on licking his fingers, oblivious to your not very PG thoughts of him.

“Oh my god please don’t call it that!” he groaned, scrunching his eyes as he continued to lick his fingers like a behemoth.

"But it's fun." You pout, crossing your arms as you subconsciously gulp at his doll-like figure. Yes, Peter was attractive, you'd have to be blind not to see that, but since when did he start making you feel this kind of way? Shit, Your heart felt like it was stuck in your throat. It was just the heat. Yup, just the June heat waves.

Your mind whirled as you breathed in deeply, clearing your throat as you closed your eyes at the exposure. All you could see was his exposed hands, fingers in his mouth and bulging biceps as the sleeves of his short sleeved (form-fitting) tee moved according to his muscles. The shift in your mood startled you, a stirring in your stomach making you clench your thighs.

“Hey, you here with me?” His voice snapped you out of your thoughts, throat bobbing as you looked into his eyes. You could see the mischief in them, the glint that made your throat dry and something else wet. His tiny smirk swirled something in your chest, but you chalked it up to the anxiety of realising you may or may not be in love with your long lost best friend.

And also super horny for him. At the same time.

What the fuck.

"You okay?" He interrupted your train of thoughts, a very horny train of thoughts, a smirk tugging on his rosy cheeks.

"Yeah I'm good." You said, biting your lip harder in order not to smile when you saw his brows scrunching harder, a line forming right above his bumpy eyebrow like it always did.

"You know you can tell me anything right?"

"Right, yeah right of course." Chuckling, you stepped back, holding on the couch for support.

"Just like ripping a band-aid." He continued, raising an eyebrow this time, adding to the smug look on his face.

"More like ripping a wax strip from your armpits." You muttered, clenching your teeth, heart pounding in your throat as his pupils darkened a little.

"Or ripping your clothes off."

With a sharp intake of breath you realised that he had been teasing you for the entire day with gestures like these- wrapping his hands too low on your waist, bending down with his ass up high whenever you’re around, making comments about how “you should help him fix the curtain rods”, which, ok they were crooked and you've been wanting to fix them for long. Flirting relentlessly, only you deciphered them as his random and completely normal goofiness, consciously or not you didn't know.

“Have you always been this hot?” You blurted, face heating up at your sudden confession. You couldn’t help but give him a satisfactory once over, noticing how his abs were visible through the thin gym shirt, the indents clearly visible. His sharp jawline glinted against the artificial light and his fingers, gosh he was a marble statue carved by the most prestigious sculptures of Greece. Or Rome. Someone fancy. Someone desirable.

His eyes widened, scanning his surroundings to see that you were both alone in the room, the boom boom bas of the frat party a sentient noise in the background. The air around you felt thick, heat crawling up in every pore of your body. Your heart was beating out of your chest, and he could hear it, judging by the face he was making.

“I- I mean.. I go to the gym a lot?” He stuttered, sucking at his bottom lip with his teeth. The sudden change in his demeanor gave you a whiplash, but also something akin to pleasure washing over.

“Do you now?” You had unconsciously moved closer to him, his breath now fanning your face as you looked into his eyes, the shine in them matching the insatiable hunger of your body throbbing for something more, more of Peter than his loving words and wistful glances, the goofy smiles and fucking sinful smirks.

“Oh fuck it.” you breathed, lunging forward to close the distance between the two of you, unceremoniously moaning as he swirled his tongue against the lower lining of your lip, shuddering at the wet sensation that took over your lower body. There was no one in the common room at this time of the night, you were all alone. Alone with your thoughts and they were being thunk.

Clutching the base of his neck, you push your chest flush against his, clothes creating just enough friction to warm your already heating up core. Groaning, you felt his soft fingertips making patterns on your skin, his touch fiery hot and ice cold at the same time. You shuddered at the sensation, feeling the euphoria of merely being in his presence, of his pretty face staring into yours as if you were the moon.

Moving around the room in an attempt to spread your urges further, your back hit the sofa’s top as Peter took control over your movements, his teeth now lightly nibbling at your bottom lip. His hands roamed your bare thigh, snapping the band of your gym shorts and curling them around the hem. He tugged at the fabric, bringing your leg up with the motion.

All thoughts of ruining your friendship were washed away as you swayed along with Peter, his touch as soft as rose petals, pleasure washing over your entire being at the feeling of Peter and his skin touching yours. You were a piping hot mess, kisses desperate and hot and any other day, you would’ve found the amount of spit intake gross. But today was not the day.

Moaning a soft “Peter” repeatedly, you tug at the curls at the nape of his neck, your fingers tickling him, making him shudder against you.

“Do you like that?” you smirked with delight, leaning towards his neck as you touched the nape of his neck, licking a strip. You felt his soft skin form goosebumps, a throaty moan leaving his mouth that felt like buttery syrup to your ears (and liquid pleasure to your throbbing core). You were sure he could smell your arousal at this point, remembering how he told you once that he could smell things no human could.

"Again." He muttered incoherently, still recovering from the pleasure of your mouth on his skin.

“Are we sure the cameras won’t capture anything?” You ask in between panting breaths, knowing fully that the security cameras were just to scare students, and that they weren’t actually working. But you got a kick out of it anyways, his nerdy ramblings were an essential to your day, you thought as you lazily fingered the nape of his neck, the area was soft, filled with tufts of hair that curled more than the rest of his head.

His hair was longer, you noticed, falling over his head in long bangs, the lower ends curling up. It turned you on, for some reason, noting to yourself to tell him how fucking attractive he looks in long hair.

“I’m pretty sure no one’s gonna look past us kissing even if they do find tapes sweetheart.” Peter chuckled, crashing his lips for another soft but ardent kiss.

"Sweetheart?" You chuckled on his lips, “You sure? This is MIT we’re talking about.”

“We’ll be expelled for having sex, best way of getting expelled in my opinion.” He smirked, caressing your jaw with his thumb.

Pulling back for a breath, your eyes met his, smirking at his rosy pink cheeks and swollen lips. His hands were firmly on your hips, fingers fidgeting with the elastic of your shorts and sliding down slowly. The ubiquitous coldness of his hand felt like fire as his finger slithered around your heated core, the burning sensation of his fingers gliding too much for you to be any degree of lucid right now.

“Already so wet huh?” He huffed, circling your clothed clit lazily. Nodding against his chest, you circled your hand to the small of his back "your pretty little pussy is so excited for me to slide in huh."

You shivered at the tone he took, so different from his innocent tone, that your core felt like it was going to overheat from how hard it was vibrating. Looking up in surprise, you opened your mouth to his smirking form, his pupils dilating further when he saw you lick your lips.

"I don't remember you being this dominant in the playground." You smirked hesitantly, gasping when his hands tightened around your waist, your hips rubbing against his hard on.

"Funny you would remember that now," he huffed, "guess it'd payback for all the bossing around you did back then."

"You want to..?" You asked with an excited smirk panting with the rhythmic movements of his chest. You didn't need to finish your sentence before he was muttering "Yes" repeatedly under his breath.

And damn, he hadn't felt as much at peace as he was feeling right now, your moans reverberating in his chest, your pebbled nipples barely peeking out through the fabric of your bra and thin tee, pressing against him as he felt the skin of your back.

"Looks like you're excited." You smirk, tilting your head down when he looks confused to subtly show what you were talking about. His Adam's apple bobbled when he looked down at his visible boner, the thin material of his gym shorts not doing much to hide it.

“Baby you have no idea.” He groaned, scrunching his eyes as you raised an eye at him at his use of ‘baby’. It wasn’t an uncommon nickname, but you had never associated it with bed activities before now. Rolling your eyes, you jump on him, his hands reaching up to easily catch you, squeezing your thighs as he lazily licked his lips.

“But are you sure sure Petey?” you ask once again, biting your lips as he started to undress you, caressing you with a hint of tease, groaning as he licked a strip on your bare stomach. His hands caressed your waist for a moment, as if analysing the texture of your skin like the little scientist he was.

“My answer isn’t changing princess.” He scoffed, undressing himself and jumping on your form with a bounce. You winced in pleasure as you made skin to skin contact with him, his hands roaming your body with a hint of lust in his posture, squeezing the flesh of your boobs. He would be a great masseuse, you noticed, as he flexed his muscles unintentionally.

“Huh, I like this confident side of Peter.” You strained, pulling at the back of his head towards you in a desperate attempt to just get him inside you already dammit. Your bud felt sensitive and his hovering was making you desperate for some contact, the pink flesh of his head just touching you enough to make you groan in annoyance at the sheer lack of contact.

“Impatient, aren't you? Slow down a little.” He whispered in your ear, tugging your earlobe with his teeth. You whimpered at his teasing, blurting out a “please!” as he hovered over your now bare clitoris. The unfamiliar sensation of his bare, hard dick against your opening felt strange at first, but as he, hesitantly at first, pushed into you, you couldn’t help but arch your back, whimpering at the raw skin hitting your insides.

“So tight.” He grunts, his thrusts getting sharper with each moan you give, your hands clutching the sheets and his holding onto the headboard above you, the tiny cracks appearing on the expensive frame that neither of you noticed was the testament of just how lost in the sauce he was. Grunting, he started pacing up, your moans filling up the room as you grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled at it.

“Fuck Y/n I’m close,” he whimpered, “look how wet you make me baby, I’m so fucking close.”

You gave an incoherent noise at the back of your throat as he thrusted in you with a new thirst and fervour in his movements. You realised, as he thrusted into you, that Peter Parker and Spider-Man were completely different people.

Spider-Man always stood on his moral grounds, but Peter Parker was a rule breaker. Always late for his classes, never submitted his assignments on time. Spider-Man hid his face under his mask to look brave, Peter Parker hid cigarettes and condoms in his dorm’s dirty laundry. Both were the same but strikingly different from each other all at once. And that the sweet disposition of one Peter was just a facade, waiting for the right time for something more sinful to surface over his sweet talking smile.

And as you moaned when he came into you, you realised that you’ve never been full without him, a Peter sized gaping hole in your chest making you feel hollow on the inside. Even as his marks burn you up and down, left and right, his mouth reaching indents that you weren’t aware of, you felt complete for the first time in eight years.

Sometime around you fucking around with him had led you to his room, forgetting for a moment where you were, the unfamiliar walls of his room waking you up from the sweet haze that came after sex.

“Oh my god, that was good.” He panted, flopping down next to you as you pulled up the covers to your chin, nodding along him. Turning to you, he scrunched his brow when he saw your drooping eyes, caressing your head in a soothing motion and said, “Go pee now.”

“What?” You laugh, rolling over the sheets to comply because you didn’t need an STI on top of the thoughts swirling in your brain, and the fact that you just had sex, with your best friend, before you could even have a formal dinner with him, “so romantic, the first thing you say to your best friend you had sex with is ‘go pee’.”

"Well the last thing you need is an infection!"

"Pretty sure your radioactive seeds would kill any infection." You snickered, stomach coiling at your words, “Wait have you… ever y’know, tested your semen for radioactivity?”

“I- what? No, the time never came?” He said, uncertainty in his voice.

“Oh my god what if I die?” You gasped, calming down once you saw his panicked expression, ” no but that would’ve happened already then.”

“Yeah. Yeah obviously.” He nodded along, already on the edge of sleep. Fuck, even with bags bigger than the Gucci franchise and hair tussled everywhere, he looked angelic as ever.

“Yeah, imagine dying by banging your best friend.” You chuckled, “the best way to die probably.”

“I don’t think I want to call you my best friend anymore.” He said after your laughter ceased. Creasing your eyebrow teasingly, you looked over your shoulder to see him grinning cheekily, fully naked and sitting upright with his legs close to his chest. His chest was gleaming with sweat, and he had never looked more beautiful.

“Ouch, are you going to replace me with someone else now?” You gasp, holding a dramatic hand to your chest as he rolled his eyes.

“Yeah no, that’s not what I meant darling.”

Raising an eyebrow, you couldn’t help the big smile from appearing on your face, heat burning in your cheeks at his use of the word “darling”. Clearing your throat, you looked at his face and turned to the bathroom door, taking a deep breath to control your frayed and baffled thoughts.

“So… do you want to talk about… this?” you gestured at yourself and him, now having peed and cleaned up, wrapped in the super fluffy blankets of Peter’s room. You had at some point, put on Peter’s tee, the science pun of telekinesis making it hard for you to hold in your laughter. Unfortunately, you had more pressing matters at hand.

“About what?” He sighed sleepily, his eyelids drooping, nearly closed as he turned to look at you. His voice was gruff with exhaustion, and if it wasn’t for the throbbing reminder of his cock down there, you would’ve asked for a round two, the husky voice already making you throb harder. Not to mention you were exhausted.

“About us?” You raised an eyebrow, challenging him to question you further.

Your horny brain had decided to take a step back at that very moment, you'd rational side taking over as you realised that whatever… sinful act you had done with your best friend might potentially ruin your bond with each other.

"What do you need to talk about sweetheart?" He asked once again, moving closer to you as he wrapped a firm hand against your covered waist, rubbing small circles with his thumb. The motion was soothing, nearly lulling you to sleep. You fought to keep your eyelids open at this point.

"Peter… Peter wait." You spoke tiredly, only in the throws of sleep, your own exhaustion taking over, "we aren't even dating. Is this all okay for you?"

Your question startled him awake, his eyes now wide open as he looks at you with flushed cheeks.

Adorable.

"Well.. do you? Want to go on a date?" He whispered as if hesitant. His big Bambi eyes looked into yours, properly and without any lust or hunger for the first time tonight. The difference in his eyes caught you off guard, your mouth opening and closing, "this is not too early is it? I'm sorry I'm so so sorry if you-"

"Peter! Shush. I just… I would love to go on a date with you." You smiled tight lipped, a lump forming in your throat. Swallowing the feeling, you felt heat take residence in your cheeks, heart thudding loudly.

"Really?" He whispered, your heartbeat filling his ears like a melody he would never forget, the thudding steady thump thump like a beat of a love song.

Smiling wide, he took your face in his hands for a hasty kiss, crashing his lips into yours as you laughed into it, wrapping your legs around his back in a similar imitation of tonight.

"Oh my God I can't believe this." Peter chuckled, flopping down next to you, quickly wrapping his hands and legs across your torso.

"What can't you believe Peter?" You smirked, leaning up a little to look at him from a higher vantage point, your elbow digging into the mattress as you traced patterns on his chest.

"I'm going on a date with my best friend." He smiled.

"Why don't you believe it?" You said, entertaining his idea.

"Because!" He whined a little, gesturing for you to continue your artwork on his chest, "because you're the best."

Laughing, you kissed his nose softly, "Articulate as ever aren't we?"

"You make me speechless, baby." He jokes, absentmindedly twisting a stray strand of your hair in his finger.

"Oh I see we're already in the ‘baby’ territory." You joke back.

"Too cringe?"

"Hmmm… maybe a little." you nod. Shifting your weight on the bed, you scrunch your brow at the sudden rise in temperature, "is it just me, or is it getting real hot in here?"

Pouting, he closes his eyelids as a final sign of resignation to sleep, "just you baby."

You watch in awe as he eventually starts snoring something loud, nodding along to his words- he always ran cold anyway and intrigued by how such a huge sound could be produced by someone so tiny as Peter.

Snickering at his sleeping form, you admired him for a few seconds, before falling on the sheets yourself.

Your thoughts wouldn't let the sweet darkness of sleep come to you just yet, the sleep deprivation causing things around you to blur a little in such a short time that it gave you a whiplash.

Smacking your eyelids, you mumbled a "huh, what the fuck" as everything suddenly got sharper, a little too sharp in fact. Your head throbbed at the sudden input of every possible colour demanding their presence in your eyelids, colours you didn't even know existed showing up as you looked around you.

You swore when you could see the tiny droplets of sweat on Peter as if you were looking at them through a zoom lens, an uneasy feeling forming in your gullet as you noticed the tiniest of creeks and breaks in the room.

Firmly closing your eyes, you willed for sleep to come to you. And it seemed that you were eventually granted with that.

Because next thing you knew, you were waking up to an empty bed and the sunlight stabbing your eyelids. Fiercely.

"What the fuck." You muttered, squinting your eyes to look at the bright room around you. Pulling your covers closer to your chin, you slowly get up, a strange buzzing at the base of your skull disrupting your process before-

"Good morning sunshine!" Harry’s booming voice startled you out of your bed, nearly falling off as you glared at him, his laughter echoing in your ears like church bells.

“Fuck off bitch.” You groaned, looking around for Peter, only finding an empty spot.

“Oh lover boy is in the library, studying like the nerd he is.” Harry said dismissively, looking around the room for something, "in case you were wondering."

You were glad you had at some point in the night- worn Peter’s tee and boxers, otherwise it would’ve been a rather awkward situation with how manically Harry was wreaking havoc in the dorm and how you were not so subtly saying "I slept with my bestie".

Everyone saw it coming.

“What is with you though?” you asked, eyes narrow as he gave you a hesitant grin, before running out of the door, "cause if you were planning a heist, then you're not doing a very banger job."

"It's not a heist L/n sheesh, and what's with the sex puns? You sleep with your hot bestie for one day..." He scoffed, muttering a victorious "aha" as he reached for the cigar box, right where you remember keeping your super secret stash of chocolates.

Or, well he tried to. Before you could blink, you were on the other side of the tiny dorm room, much faster than you anticipated.

“What the hell?” Harry shrieked, holding the tiny package above your head in shock. You were breathless yourself, not because of the improvised speed, but because of the fact that your hand was stuck to the damn box of expensive looking blunts in his hands.

“What the hell is going on here? Harry did you get the box or not?” Peter’s voice rang from the corridor, causing you to panic and accidently make a dent on the very wooden study table you had stumbled into.

"Umm… yeah he got them, just a minute Pete, gotta unstick myself first." You chuckled awkwardly, flashing looks between Harry and Peter alternatively.

Harry was looking at you like you had grown another head, as was Peter. Except he looked three shades paler, gulping at the sight of you stuck to the cigar box.

Literally. Like “palm full out stuck flat to the top of the box like a magic trick” kind.

"Please tell me you happen to have slept with superglue on your hand to prank me." Peter whispered, slowly making his way to you as Harry stepped aside, seemingly frozen.

"Uhm-"

"-not now Harry."

"-I didn't say anything!"

Looking miffed, Harry crossed his hands, a scoff landing on his face.

"And it better stay that way," Peter said, flashing his eyes dangerously at said boy, "cause I think… I think-"

"That the baby batter of yours may or may not have transferred your powers to me." You finished his sentence, just as a loud thump echoed in the room.

A/N: Lemme know what you guys think :D

[maknae-on-ice]

i mean probably? or you could just write a fic that's much easier 😂

You know what? If I get sent a good tom holland stripper concept

I'll write it!!!

[listener-blue]

Oh my! My ask about visiting Scotland started a conversation and even @spideygirl commented! We'll be visiting Edinburgh Castle.I wasn't aware about currency change, thank you very much for putting up pictures. Also I won't approach the highland cows no matter how cute. And won't comment on sensitive subjects. Thank you very much again writing a detailed answer. I should make an account, I've found cool 3 people to follow -Anon from Finland.

I feel like you might have meant to send this to @concentrated-sunshine since the original ask was sent to him :)

You should absolutely make an account!

When you go to Edinburgh Castle try to go around 1pm 

[spideyspeaches]

Scratches ↬ p.p

A/N: OKAY SO, this is like, purely smut lol has no plot :D

Warnings: public-ish? unprotected smut lol (18+ only!)

Pairing: Black cat!reader x Peter Parker (well spiderman technically)

WC: 1.2k

Masterlist

Panting from the tedious session of sparring with Natasha, Peter bent on his knees to catch a breath, sweat dripping down his back and chest as he scrunched his eyes as he saw her smirking figure looming in front of him. He was enhanced and yet she hadn't broken a sweat.

Suddenly finding his fit t-shirt suffocating, he pulled at it's neckline in an attempt to let the cool air of the AC take away some of the heat.

"How are you not even sweating? And I'm the enhanced one here!" He exclaimed, looking at Nat's smirking figure as she retreats to grab a bottle, handing him one in the process.

"Practice is the key светлячок." She shook her head fondly, looking at him with a raised eye as he raised the obstructive t shirt above his head, having difficulty removing the clingy t-shirt soaked in sweat.

"I'll call Steve, I promised him we'll spar next. Oh and Sam is coming over." She informed, taking a sip from her own bottle.

"That's great. We still have that unfinished Mario kart round anyway." Peter shrugged, turning his back to her once again, fiddling with his gym bag to look for a spare t-shirt.

Lost in his own thoughts, he momentarily forgot that he was in the same room as a highly trained assassin, not noticing that just as she bent to grab her go-to bag, she noticed some….interesting marks on the bare skin of Peter’s back. Biting back a chuckle she said " Are those nail marks?"

Eyes widening in panic, he turned around to see that there were indeed red scratches running down his back. Which was weird, because if he recalled well from the painkiller induced haze, he had healed from bullet grazes in a day, not even leaving an inkling of a scar. While they weren't hurting, he certainly knew where they came from.

"Uh no. No I just ran into a cat...during patrol you know? It was on a tree.. I had to get it down." He fumbled over his words, cheeks red as he remembered last night, "very naughty cat."

"Hey spider-babe." You greeted him, a smirk evident on your face as he looked at you through the eye-mask you wore to protect your secret identity, your platinum blonde wig glinting in the night sky as you saw him perched on the roof of a random skyscraper in his iconic "spidey pose".

"Told you not to call me that, not gonna steal anything tonight?" He said, voice muffled by his mask. Even with the mask on, his voice was husky, the usual falsetto gone as he stood up, holding your waist in a tight grip, bringing you closer so that your chests were touching flush against the other.

"I don't feel like being a bad girl tonight." You retaliated, scratching his chest with one hand and the other hand reaching for his spidey mask as you lifted it enough to expose his lips and jaw. Tracing his sharp jawline, you touched your lips to his, moaning at the contact as he jabbed his tongue into your mouth with an urgency.

"You're eager aren't you?" You said in between the kiss,"calm down baby boy, My apartment's not far."

Your heart pounded in your chest, internally cursing your impulsive mouth, even though at that moment you didn't care that bringing him to your apartment could risk your identity beyond the infamous black cat, but you wanted to know him. You wanted him to know you beyond the facade of being a burglar running around dressed in a black suit.

So far he had been as secretive of his face behind the mask as you had, and the only thing you knew about him was his superhero name. You both had agreed that you wouldn't go past the masks, because things would get messy and personal relationships were hard to maintain, so you were strangers in bed. It was good enough for both of you.

"I need you now kitty, your bed can go fuck itself." He growled, the nickname sending shivers down your spine. Reaching for the zipper of your suit, you let it fall at your legs. He was now aggressively sucking at your neck as you arched your back, giving him better access. That would surely leave a hickey, and it felt good, to be marked by him.

"Okay." Was all it took for him and for you to climb on him, your legs wrapping around his waist as he grabbed your ass, squeezing hard as you let a whimper fall from your lips. Scrambling to get down to a dark alley, you frantically click the spider emblem on his chest, watching the suit in awe as it fell down in rivulets. The masks stayed on and so did the memory of the lingering stare of the cold, mechanical eyes of his suit, tracing every indent of your body.

Not leaving a second to spare, his mouth was on yours again, his bulge against your thighs creating friction as you removed his boxers, his hard member springing out, slicked with pre-cum. Licking your lips, you spring your eyes from his dick to meet his eyes while thumbing the pink, lush tip, making him shiver. Holding on to his neck, you climbed on him, removing your panties and bra in the process, nipples hardening as the cool air hit your breasts.

"Fuck, you're so tight kitty." He gritted his teeth, holding your left boob, massaging it with a huff as you pushed yourself down, feeling his dick penetrate you. Trying to hear for any commotion, you sighed when you heard none. You were in a discreet alley, and New York had plenty of them so you didn't have to worry about unexpected visitors.

"Only for you Spidey, feel me close around you." You moaned loudly. Your stomach was coiling with a familiar pressure and you couldn't stop it, unconsciously digging your fingers in his back as you overcame with pleasure. You couldn't believe you were doing spidey in a dirty New York alley instead of a shitty motel room, goosebumps crawling your skin as you thought that you could do this everyday.

"I'm close spidey." You spit out, scrunching your eyes behind the mask, pushing your nose into his neck as you huffed a breath.

"That's it pretty girl, you're doing great." He thrusted into you this time. You were practically dancing around his body with yours, his chest glistening with sweat as he scrunched his eyes close.

You gave a last shout, orgasm spilling out of you as you laughed in pleasure, not noticing that you had left numerous scratch marks on his back. Well he would have to deal with it. Besides, his spider healing would take care of it.

Clearing his throat, he shook his head, looking at Natasha with a smirk. She looked him in the eyes with a knowing glint, because of course she knew everything, she was a superspy/assassin after all.

"Can you spider bros not communicate with your freaky spider mojo PLEASE? It's freaking me out." Tony shouts, shaking them from their stupor. Holding up a bottle, he nodded at them and continued with his treadmill.

"Those are just cat marks." He said once again, pupils dilating under the harsh sun entering from the glass windows of the compound.

"Sure. Whatever you say." She shrugged.

Smirking, he grabbed an energy drink from the stalls, passing through Tony who grumbled something about "stupid spiders".

Tagging some moots: @justapurrcat @sleighbellspideyy @arvinrussellsgirlfriend @selfcarecap @annathesillyfriend

[spideyspeaches]

Let me be your purpose ↬ [druig]

A/N: fianlly got something written jsdksjkl based on this request by anon! beta read by mi amor @darling-im-moonstruck <3<3

WC: 2.2k+

Warnings: smut (18+ only!), mention of canonical character death, canon nudged to the left :D

Pairing: Druig x Eternal!Reader (fem)

For someone who was meant to live forever- a supposedly synthetic sentient being, one who wasn’t aware of yourself until your leader was sacrificed for a greater purpose, you were pretty good at holding grudges. It was the 21st century and you learnt that being stubborn was a common trait, and that it was okay to do so if your not-really partner left you wondering for five fucking thousand years if he felt the same for you or not.

Five thousand was a long time to dwell on feelings. And while you met other men (and women) during those five thousand years, you felt yourself yearning for the one man you've known since your existence on this planet.

Now that you think of it as you walk through the thick jungles of the unfamiliar lands of Amazon, you can’t help but wring your hands nervously, only sparing Sersi a glance as she looks at you with pursed lips, a coil of dread and nervousness making itself apparent in your gut at the prospect of meeting him again, after admittedly, a very long long time. An eternity, a romantic poet would call it.

You were standing just outside the rumoured kingdom, only at the insistence of Sersi and Ikarus, both of whom were aware of your… fling with him, if the way they glanced at you with familiarity in their eyes was anything to go by. Your head flashed to their wedding, feeling phantoms of his hands encircling your waist as he stood next to you, Makkari to your other side as she gave you a smirk at his actions.

For years, you both had denied having a label to your relationship- for the best too apparently, seeing as the only two of the eternals living together were Sersi and Sprite. You may have lost connection with them, but you never really forgot about him. Him and his flirty jokes, soft shoulder nudges and feather light kisses on your neck that left you shuddering at the sensation.

Thena- bless her, was oblivious to your predicament, as was Gilgamesh- seeing as he was left taking care of her. Smiling at their friendship and the devotion they had for each other, you felt your throat constricting. In a moment of weakness, you were left feeling strangely human at the thought of being able to see him with your own eyes, not just a figment of your imagination this time.

Yes, you could make a human sculpture with a twirl of your fingers- one command and the dirt and stones around you would turn into the most beautiful, lively sculptures made, be it from the temples of India or the Pantheons of Greece. But no amount of pristine sculptures could replicate his beauty to an extent. Your powers may be the exact opposite of those of Sersi, but in a way, you were both way similar.

“What’s on your mind?” She asks quietly as if reading your mind, absentmindedly kicking a dry log, looking at you with an unreadable expression that made you clench your fists.

“Nothing,” You mutter, squinting your eyes at the sun on top of your head, “Just..uh tired. Long day walking y’know.”

"You sure? I mean it's none of my business, but seeing your ex after thousands of years can be a little intimidating." She shrugged, sending you a smirk that said that she did not regret saying that statement, "I would know, I had to tell my human boyfriend that Ikaris was a pilot."

"Little would be an understatement," You muttered under your breath, "and he's not my ex, we never dated anyway."

"In theory," Kingo piped in, "You know bollywood has a movie, where soulmates meet in a different life, it's called Raabata, it means "connection" in Urdu."

"And how exactly does this fit my story?" You smiled, pursing your lips in amusement. You found it endearing, how connected and obsessed he seemed to be with these movies.

(You have to admit though, however weird they were, those movies were addictive.)

"If I may Madam, I think sir wants to say that maybe you and whatever God we're meeting next is your soulmate and that you're destined to meet!" Karun explains, a bounce to his step as Kingo pats his back.

"Aw, that's sweet Karun," You chuckled, feeling a strange heaviness in your chest. Clearing your throat, you looked ahead of you, “we’ll see about fate and soulmate though, as of now, we just need to find his goddamn kingdom, who lives in the middle of a forest anyway?”

Smiling at the chuckles, you shake your head, trudging your way ahead.

Only this time, your eyes met the sight of a small village, a small beautiful village with a very intimidating gatekeeper too.

“We come here in peace, we don’t want trouble.” Ikarus initiates, looking back at everybody as you all nod in affirmation.

“No one is supposed to know about this place, now tell me who you people are?”

“Let them go, they’re with me.” Druig’s voice suddenly echoed, making everyone snap their heads to the source of his voice.

"We're gonna go meet the others." Gilgamesh piped in, giving others a look as they all nodded in unison.

The guard bowed his head before backing away, your eyes meeting his.

And it felt like your lungs took in too much air, puffing your chest, leaving your heart to burst out of your body. Everything came to you in flashes, his hands touching spots on your skin, his lips leaving imprints of him on your neck, his smile and his sweet words echoing in your head.

Walking towards him through what felt like molasses, you let go of your surroundings, your gaze trained on his sharp features.

"Hey there sunshine." He whispered, only heard by your ears, a tiny smirk making its way on his face.

"Hey yourself." You muttered, before puffing your chest and aiming right for his nose, punching him so hard that you could hear the bone of his nose crunch.

“Ow ok I missed you too princess!” He said, his voice nasally and eyes mischievous, stepping back when he saw your fuming expression.

"Don't call me princess," you growled, moving forward so that you were close enough to feel his breath fanning your skin. The others at this point had retreated to other places of the camp, leaving just the two of you- standing firm on your ground as you felt yourself soften up.

"What do you want me to call you then, beautiful?" He smirked, bringing a hand up to lift your chin, finally getting a look at his icy blue eyes.

"Call me what you want once I give you a taste of your own medicine." You said back, pushing him aside and making your way towards the others.

“I’ll only come if she stops the silent treatment.” He smirked, everyone’s eyes now trained on you as you rolled your eyes, standing up from where you were leaning on the wall of the small hut.

“That’s a stupid deal.” You muttered.

“How’s my sunshine this morning?” His sweet drawl echoes in your ear, his soft hands slowly encircling your waist as you huff at him, hooking your hands to his as you begrudgingly sway with him, the nightly breeze hitting your bare hands, making goosebumps appear on your skin.

You didn’t know at what point it had started, maybe it was three thousand years ago when he took a spear for you during a war, angering you at his stupid self sacrificial behaviour, or maybe it was with how he had abandoned everyone to live in some discreet village with pesky little humans, your hatred for him ran deep in your veins, discolouring your once golden blood and leaving a sour taste in your mouth at every glance he spared at you with his stupid, beautiful, gorgeous fucking eyes.

Those stupid fucking eyes that left your heart racing and mouth dry, hands shaking in anticipation of what might come out of his mouth next, sounds of his moans and pants coming in muffled waves like you were deep under the ocean as you saw his tiny smirk directed at you. Rolling your eyes, you huffed another strangled sound, pushing your hand on his chest and another on the headboard of some poor local who was out at the moment as your hips rocked in sync with his. You were glad that the others had left you two alone, albeit with a knowing look.

You had the house to yourself- you and that stupid oaf of a man, Druig.

And as you flipped him with all your will and power- his mind control powers never really worked on you, for the first time you felt as if he had a spell on you, your mind going blank as your sweaty bodies clashed against each other, and yet you couldn’t bear to look at his face right now, afraid that anger still hot and boiling in your chest would leave your wounded mouth unzipped, accidentally bringing out the wrong message to him.

Scrunching your eyes, you bit your lips as your stomach roiled with pleasure, the sight of him under you as you rode him mushed up your thought process of why exactly were you angry with the man you were in love with.

“Still the silent treatment princess?” Druig grunted, clenching his hands around your waist as you looked up, sweating and out of breath but still ecstatic at the feeling of his cock inside you, your own walls clenching like they hadn’t in thousands of years, "You know this isn't going to work if you don't speak right? That was the deal."

For years and years, you and Druig had… something. Something that was, unfortunately and to the eternal vexation of the others, unnamed. Something that had the potential of being beautiful, like the thing he and Makkari had. No matter how mad you were with him, their interactions always made your heart swell.

"Now you want to talk huh?" You huffed, squeezing his shoulders, feeling closer and closer to your climax, the bed creaking with both your added weights and movement.

"What do you mean by that love?" He sighed, squeezing your hips to grab your attention.

For the first time that night, you got a proper look at his features, his sharp cheekbones and dark eyes, the flat mushroom he called hair, his piercing blue eyes meeting yours that meant business, a shine to them that you couldn’t get, and yet a dark sheen to them that made your heart stutter.

"What I mean is, that you're a fucking asshole!" You seethed, sneering at his confused expression, "why do you always leave? Why do you always promise you'll stay when you know that you won't keep that promise!?"

"Sweetheart-"

"No! Don't you sweetheart me Druig! You're a fucking liar and I hate you!" You cried out, frustrated and tired and angry, pounding on his chest as you pulled out of him, “are you even planning on staying if you do join us?”

A moment of silence, one that felt like a knife slicing through your chest was all it took for the dam to break. Getting up, body exposed under the thin moonlight coming through the curtains of the ten, you curled up in a tight ball, flinching when you felt his arms encircling your body, mouth close to your ears enough to feel his hot breath on your skin.

“I didn’t want to leave you beautiful, I just, I was so angry at Ajak for not letting me stop all those awful wars, I couldn’t bear looking at them y’know?” he explains slowly, rubbing his palms back and forth on your skin, “What’s the use of my powers if I can’t even stop wars?”

“But that’s the thing about you,” You murmur, bringing his palm closer to your lips, feeling his pointy hair tickle your neck, “you have powers and you use them for good. But there are certain things that just… cannot be prevented Druig, you just have to let them happen.”

“And I’m sick of hearing those words.” He whispers, “they make me feel like I have no real purpose.”

Whipping back to see his face, you scrunch your brow, tenderly caressing his cheeks in your palm, “but you do have a purpose! Your purpose is avenging Ajak! Your purpose is stopping those disgusting deviants and protecting the humans on this beautiful planet! You have.. You have me. Let me be your purpose.”

“Damn right I have you princess.” He smirked, caressing a hand under your hair to pull you in for another kiss, this time slow and passionate and warm, and so much like him that it made your chest ache at the familiarity, “damn right you do.”

***

"I'll come with you guys." Was all he said, the others looking at you with a knowing smile as they nodded.

The fight for your life was exhausting, losing Gilgamesh was exhausting, but knowing that he had your back was as refreshing as knowing that saving the life of these mortals on this planet was as worth disobeying the very being who created you.

A/N: Lemme know what y'all think!! <33

Tagging some moots (hope u don't mind 😬): @tommysparker @selfcarecap @annathesillyfriend

[spideyspeaches]

Twisted steel and sex appeal ↬ p.p

A/N: HEYYY It's mee remember? :D Bet you thought you'd seen the last of me ;) This is a suuuper late submission for @starksparker and @cunaeparker 's writing challenge lj;sl also thank @justapurrcat for being an ANGELL <3<3

Summary: There was something different about Peter Parker, and you were gonna find what it was till your last breath.

Warnings: little smutty (18+ only!), smoking. morally grey characters? mentions of Sk*p Wescott and the thing he did, let me know if I miss something! Pairing: College!Peter Parker x College!Reader (grey?)

WC: 4.9k

Masterlist || Taglist

© do not copy to another site

"Spider-man's name… Spider-man’s name is Peter Parker!" the screen on time's square buzzed with static, just as Spider-man- Peter Parker's mind blazed with fury. 

New York went silent on behalf of their hero, the only sound was the blaring cacophony of J Jonah Jameson’s voice spewing what could only be said in simpler words as bullshit. 

"That's you." MJ whispered, now with her feet on the ground. Peter has never felt so blinded before. 

The crowd bustled with the excitement of first year students, each of them either frantically searching for their classes or making new friends, some who had already come in with their friends or significant others. It wasn’t like the usual high school crowd of sweaty bodies and jocks, it had a different air in itself. An air of excitement that would rival a lover’s beating heart, air full of excitement for a fresh start. 

Navigating his way through the crowded corridors, Peter finally saw his classroom for the day- Chemistry 101, nearly jumping in excitement as he entered the auditorium full of balcony seats. Looking at his surroundings, his heart clenched. 

As a major in chemical engineering, Peter was very excited for his first class. He hasn't felt this kind of excitement since he had discovered Tony Stark sitting on his ratty couch next to his aunt back in the day. 

Entering the room, he was relieved to see that he wasn't the only student there, or that the professor had not come over yet. 

Finding a bench in the back corner of the classroom, he smiled at his benchmate, shuffling his backpack and books on his bench. Sitting straight, he took a deep breath, looking up when the class went silent.  

His mind flashed to his old high school, the distinct lack of Ned's presence as he studied in CalTech was a little suffocating, the lack of his inquisitive voice leaving Peter's mind spinning. 

Friends were overrated- MJ had said, and he couldn't help but resonate with that sentence.

Or so he thought. 

“Hi.” He was startled out of his trance, nearly jumping off of his seat before he shook his head, chuckling at the giggles that brewed from.. from You.

You, Y/n L/n, were sitting behind him again, for some reason that was beyond his understanding. 

He had first met you during the orientation, you were in the same position as now- sitting behind him- giddy and chirpy and excited. Excited for a new year and a new start- a fresh start. If emotions had smells, Peter would’ve smelt the anxiety and fear in you. He would’ve smelt the excitement and the nervous energy at the prospect of starting a new milestone. 

But he didn’t. He had been more withdrawn than normal that day, because he was moving from New York, from a home he had known ever since the day he was born. The smell and taste and feel of New York was instilled in his memory- a core memory in his brain that would take stronger than a memory spell to vanish. 

So he kept quiet that day, choosing to nod and smile and respond shyly to whenever you poked his shoulders with your new pen. 

Peter has always been an extrovert his whole life- he was shy and closed, rarely talked to people- but he was an extrovert at heart. He liked having people around, having the people he loved around. There weren’t many people on his list of people, and he learned pretty quickly that the more people he added, the more they left. 

Being Spider-Man taught him a lot about his life, one of them being that he couldn't trust many people. People would fake their way into his heart and then end up tearing it apart. He learnt that the hard way in London. 

It had taken a long time for Peter to recover from the betrayal, hadn't recovered fully even, but for some reason, he felt attracted to you. You had wormed your way into his small circle, he just had a hard time showing that to you. 

Peter Parker wasn't one to be emotionally constipated, he loved to display his emotions, but the shy part of him always felt too much when he tried to publicly talk to strangers. But talking to you felt… familiar. 

It felt like talking to Ned when he had first met him, like eating dinner with May every Friday and lab sessions with Mr. Stark every wednesday. It was easy and beautiful. 

He just felt weary of adding you to the list of people of the inner circle. It was like a curse around him, one that he so desperately tried to overlook despite the circumstances. The last time he had impulsively added someone to the list, they had ended up betraying him in the harshest way possible.

(Quentin Beck, he said that he would protect him. That he was a hero and not trying to replace Mr. Stark, but Peter, like the naive, sad, desperate child he was, trusted him.

No one would ever know what happened at the bridge that day, EDITH was disabled and some measly newspaper like The Daily Bugle should’ve known better than to believe that New York would ever let their favourite hero down.)

“What are you thinking about?” You whispered, snapping him from his thoughts. 

Lips twitching, Peter shook his head slightly, shoulders bunching up before turning back to the front, "none of your business."  

You frowned slightly, amused by the shy boy in front of you. Ever since you had met him during the orientation, you had been intrigued by the boy. You had seen the news, everyone in the country had, and you might have not been there to witness what spider-man had allegedly done, you knew deep in your mind that the hero could never do it.

Spider-man had been the talk of MIT ever since Peter Parker had arrived. It wasn’t news to people, and Peter hadn’t bothered covering it up either. He would leave classes to fight the villain of the week, come back bruised and injured and sleep deprived and still manage to turn in his assignments. 

The professors turned a blind eye to him, some sympathising for the hero, some were indifferent to it. Spider-man might as well be one of the biggest conspiracies since Iron Man stopped selling weapons. 

But that was not what pulled you towards him. You’ve had friends before coming to college, some flaky and some loyal. The thing about highschool students is that they’re desperate for someone to be involved in their lives- platonic or romantic. They readily accept friendships when thrown at them. 

You reasoned that Peter was one of the shy bunch- the one who had deep rooted trust issues and only revealed in having one or two close people. 

One of your flaws, if you could call them that, was that you were a people's pleaser. You unknowingly volunteered yourself to jump out of your comfort zones just to make someone comfortable. 

Sometimes it became an issue. Unfortunately (or fortunately, some would say), your case with Peter Parker was one of the many of your "can't help but try to befriend them" ones. 

You had practically made it your life's mission to befriend this boy.

(and maybe fuck him a little. Who would blame you though? those doe eyes were practically inviting you.) 

"You're always sad, and you only ever talk about your Aunt. And mentor." You try to cajole a response, being offered with silence instead. Sighing, you try again, "do you have friends?"

Sitting back on your desk, you didn't expect an answer from the silent boy in front of you, picking your pencil to lazily doodle in your notepad.

"I do." He said softly, the classroom's chatter making his words nearly inaudible.

"Do they study here?" You pried, leaning forward as if conspiratorially. 

"You ask a lot of questions." He hissed, clenching his jaw, the bone getting sharper as his muscles were pulled back. You could practically see him grinding his teeth.

"You don't talk much, someone's gotta compensate for that, so I ask enough questions for both of us." You shrugged, nonplussed by his tone. 

"We're not friends, you're not obligated to talk to the sad lonely kid." He bristled, rolling his eyes.

You rolled your eyes back at him, clicking your tongue, "I'm not that kind of person, but whatever. I was just trying to make conversation because I think you're hot." 

You could hear him smirk, back shuffling so that he was leaning against the back of his desk, nearly touching your fingers where they were dangling from yours, “you think I’m hot?”

“Nope.” you denied, a similar smirk playing on your face.

“You just said you do!”

“Don’t get cocky, I just said that to make you talk with me.” You shrugged, not really lying. This was the most conversation you had had with him. 

“What made you think I would respond to it? What if I was gay?” He snarked, finally turning to look at you.  Looking up, you nearly jumped, internally trying to calm your heart. His eyes weren’t anything you expected, you knew they were brown, but today they looked… different. More filled and dark, pupils nearly covering his hazel colored irises. His jaw was clenched, his entire posture catching you off guard, sending shivers up your spine. 

"then I have a feeling you would make a great friend." you said, hands cold as you held them under your desk. His eyes lightened a little, a small blush forming on his gaunty cheeks. 

"That's nice of you to say." He said, so quietly that you weren't sure you heard him right.

“Great.” You nodded, gulping and sitting back down. His posture slumped again, hand raising to answer the professor, as if nothing had just happened. 

Or maybe it hadn’t, you had just imagined it. Overanalyzed it. Spider-man’s origin story wasn’t a secret to anyone. You knew too many facts and now you were looking too much into the tiny gaps.

That was it. 

***

It was past midnight, and Peter was used to being tired.

With being Spider-Man, burning the ends was something he was- unfortunately accustomed to. He had always been a little unusual, sickly kid who spent more time in a hospital than a school, until a radioactive spider bit him- and that didn't make things any better.

People died, people left, muggers won and knives took residence in his body. But for some miraculous reason- one that left Tony Stark too stunned for words, Peter Parker never stopped being kind.

A mugger always found an opportunity to repent his sins, a murderer redeemed with a promise for a better life.

Villains in his life won more often than not, but Peter counted that as a victory. Until Mysterio flew into the picture. 

He didn’t need redemption for what he did though, all he did was save Europe, and what he got in return just… snapped something in him. 

And when he finally heard the satisfactory- sickly, crunch of breaking bones under his feet, he felt… he felt infinite. Spider-man always pulled his punches, but Peter Parker was tired of constantly being brought down by the people he respected in his life. 

He didn’t care what people thought of Spider-man, but as long as Matt “I’m a good lawyer” Murdock was willing to prove that Peter Parker didn’t kill Mysterio, he was good. 

The only problem was that he finally felt free. Like the air in his lungs had returned. He felt good and it made him sick to his stomach. 

Bad things happened in Peter Parker’s life, and it was about time he was paid back for it. 

Yeah, being Spider-man was exhausting, but so was being Peter Parker. 

But the thing about being him is that he found solutions. He had the blood and sweat of a scientist, so naturally, he was great at coming up with solutions. The day his head started to feel heavy? He cut his hair off to a buzz. His lungs felt suffocated? He filled them up with smoke. 

Being spider-man had its perks- he wasn’t at risk of cancer- heck, he had left that road behind the day he got bit by a damn spider. 

Besides, smoking on a lonely rooftop of a frat house felt cathartic, the spidey suit clinging to his frame, moist air not nearly as suffocating as the scalding taste of tar in his mouth. He was used to being alone these days, the only people he talked to was Ned, MJ and his family. 

At least he thought he only talked to them. 

“One of those cancer sticks takes six minutes of your life, I saw you smoke three of them in succession, that’s eighteen minutes.” You chirped, sitting beside him as he continued to stare ahead. 

“Did you get that from Criminal Minds?” He rolled his eyes, finally looking at your grinning face. You looked like you had woken up and come straight to the rooftop, hair ruffled and clothes wrinkled. 

"Welp, aren’t you educated in your pop culture?” You smirked, swinging your legs as you held onto the railing. You were grateful for the rail bars, the sheer height of the house’s roof (though not much) made you nervous.

Scoffing, he stabbed the bud beside him, clutching at the rails with a white knuckled grip, “how long have you been watching me, you creep?” He said without heat. His heart fluttered in a way that hadn't since the day with MJ at the London Bridge. 

You hummed in consideration, “about ten minutes now.” 

Snorting, he took a breath of fresh air, snuggling his face between the railings, looking up to see the barely peeking stars.

"What's your motive?" He asked finally, Spidey-sense alerting him of you suddenly going still, your eyes landing on him.

"I don't know. Maybe I just want to know you better. I've never really had a boyfriend before." You answered honestly, sighing at the words that came out of your mouth, whispering your next sentence, "and that also means that I'm still a virgin." 

(Lies. You weren’t proud of it, but you liked the way his eyes sparkled at the words.)

Peter's ears perked, a smirk claiming his face as he looked at you with hooded eyes, "what's so important about losing your virginity?" 

"It's just a phase of time, all the girls- you know? All they do is talk about how their first time was in the boy's bathroom at sixteen, or even freshman year of college." You shrugged, waving your hands animatedly, "when you're a girl in an American college, the hierarchy puts even more pressure on you than high school." 

"Well at least they lost it willingly. " He whispered, eyes downtrodden. Sometime between you talking and him listening, he had lit another cigarette, taking a drag and avoiding your gaze as you looked at him, realisation striking when you heard him confess. 

"I'm sorry." was all you could say, too stunned to speak as you contemplate the cruelty of this person who could ever take advantage of such an innocent soul. A sheet of depression wrapped around inside you, hands reaching his hunched frame but retrieving last minute when he involuntarily flinched. 

"it wasn't you who did it." He shrugged casually, "you- you don't have to shy from touching me though, it was a long time ago." 

Smiling, you rubbed his back slowly, getting up to sit right next to him so that the only gap between your thighs and his was the metal rail. 

"Do you wanna sneak into my dorm?" You whispered in his ear, discreetly sniffing the cologne on his neck, smiling teasingly as you opened your mom's Netflix account on your phone, showing him the home page as his eyes lit up. 

"hell yeah." is all he said, jumping up so fast it gave you a whiplash. 

"You're silly." You giggle, holding his biceps as he strutts on the roof. 

Your mind had been drifting to the brunette more often than not these days, the smell of his generic cologne intoxicating and distracting as hell. Smiling internally, you silently nodded, head on his shoulders as you saw his eyes gleaming under the screen of your laptop. 

***

The day after you had invited Peter to your dorm was the day you felt your heart racing like it was running for the gold. It had not stopped thumping, especially aching with the loud bass of the frat party you were at. 

"hot, but not my first choice." Your friend piped in, taking a sip from her solo cup. 

Squinting at her, you hid your face behind your cup, mouth quirking slightly, "why not? he's got it all- cute smile, hot bod, killer hair and smarty pants." 

humming, she placed her hands on the table, looking contemplatively at Peter- the guy in question you had been staring at for the past half hour.

You were at a party- not your typical scene, but you liked to attend once in a while to de-stress (or to keep yourself in the good books of the sorority, depending on who asked). You had to practically drag Peter out of the hermit cave he called his dorm, the sheer smell of sweaty recently legal boys nearly making you gag. 

He had resisted at first, finally caving when you threatened to burn his books with his own lighter. 

The party in itself wasn't much different from what Hollywood showed- people kissing, touching, drinking and slurring, lights blinding you, yet you found yourself in a corner with your friend, drinking the so-so labelled non-alcoholic punches.  

“I’ve heard stuff about him.” She whispered, raising her eyebrows as if indicating a conspiracy, making you huff.

"ooh yeah he saves cats from trees, so dangerous." You roll your eyes. 

“I don’t know girl, after the whole Mysterio shit went down, people talked. And they talked about how Spider-man stopped pulling his punches.” She shrugged. Looking at you, she leaned her head on your shoulder, circling her hand around yours. 

“I mean, if I had gone through half the shit he has, if sources are right,” You nod, biting your lip as you caught his eye from the other side of the room, shuddering at his gaze, “and that's a big "if"...  it’s only a matter of time he goes apeshit. Besides, he only does that to criminals.” 

“Yeah, maybe, whatever,” she shrugged, slightly slurring as she lifted her solo cup, “at least he’s hot, fuck those biceps.” sighing, she plopped her head against your shoulder, peppering tiny drunken kisses against your shoulder.

“How did you get drunk on a non alcoholic punch?!” You wondered, ignoring the goosebumps you felt on your skin, imagining how his lips would feel on your skin. 

"I snuck in whiskey." She smirked, lifting her empty solo cup and "drinking" from it. Plopping her against your arm as you lift her, your eyes flit over to his figure. 

His back was to you, but you could see the shiny lighter in his pocket, poking out of his jeans as he walked towards the back door.

His senses gave him trouble, you had read in a magazine. You weren’t keen on keeping up with tabloids, but Spider-Man had always intrigued you. Besides, the strobe lights were hurting you, and you had normal senses. 

So you could only imagine how he felt. 

You had the sudden urge to follow him, lifting your friend higher before finding her roommate and passing her over to her. You would’ve felt bad any other day, but you weren’t feeling very morally ideal today, the overly sweet punch and the blinding lights and the stupid lighter in Peter Parker’s pocket making you want to follow him everywhere he went.

Your heart pounded in your chest, the beats of the party reverberating in your ears, dulling as you close the door behind you, only to be chest to chest with Peter, nearly jumping in the air as he spoke;

“Took you long enough.” His smile soft under the small moon light. He leaned against the concrete of the building, fidgeting with the lighter in his hand, the clicking noise distracting you from the weirdly hypnotic flame surrounding the invisible wick. 

"Were you waiting for me or were you eager to get out of the party?" You huffed, leaning against the wall, propping a leg behind you.

You saw him shrug, "both I guess? The lights were hurting my eyes and you looked like you needed help there." 

Chuckling, you leant your head on his shoulder, not unlike how your friend had. Inhaling his scent, you felt yourself calm at the mix of nicotine, a little bit of the Chemistry lab and just the general smell of college hobo who lives on instant ramen and advil- a smell you had associated with him. 

His scent was overwhelming, you noticed, like it was a bait to trap an animal, but comforting at the same time. You swore you felt a fire within you, a little hesitant but pulling you towards him nonetheless. 

Gosh how long you had waited and waited for this moment, uncertain if he was even interested in you enough to converse with you on a normal day when you were not high off frat house and catchy music swaying your hips.

The air was cold but humid at the same time, and you were itching to get out of your clothes. Parties weren't your thing, and Peter seemed to have the same idea as you.

Because next thing you knew, your lips were kissing his with a fiery haste, your fingers tangled in his soft curls as his hands roamed around your body in a haste that surprised you, nimble fingers scrambling to reach under your clothes, exploring your skin in a fiery hot touch. 

"Wanna take this inside?" He panted, eyes dark under the dim street light, one of your legs already jammed in his grip as he lifted you. 

You could already feel yourself getting wetter as he displayed his strength, lost in his soft, tiny lips. 

You'd heard a lot of stuff about Peter Parker- top of the class, hot lab assistant, shy nerd who rarely attended a social event. 

But this, this was something new, something you found yourself pleasuring in the notice that you'd be one of the few girls who's slept with Peter Parker, feeling the thrust of his member as he flopped you on some random kid's bed, hinges squeaking as you held on for dear life, nails probably leaving indents on his back. 

"You like this baby girl?" He whispered in your ears, nibbling on your sensitive lobe, eliciting a soft sound from you as he went on to bite your soft spot, "words sweetheart, use your words." 

"I like it, I like it so much Petey." You whimpered, bringing your face closer to his exposed neck, wringing your hands in his curls as he moaned softly, keeping a constant pace of his thrusts. 

"is this your… your first time?" He asked shifting ever so slightly so as to look at your scrunched face, only the contours of your face visible through the dim light of the night.

You thought about your first time back in senior year of high school, you hadn't exactly regretted it, but you weren't satisfied enough to call it your first time. 

Now, as Peter thrusted into you while looking at you with those innocent fucking doe eyes, your hands reaching up to caress his pink cheeks, you found yourself saying, "Yes" over and over again, groaning when you felt his dick hit a spot you didn't know he could reach, "Yes, Peter." 

***

"I've done things, you know." He said suddenly, the sound vibrating against your cheeks. 

"like rescue cats from trees or steal a gauntlet from a purple alien with a chin problem?" You asked, playing with the hem of the blanket. 

"I didn't know that part was public knowledge." He smirked, looking down at you.

"I'm great at guessing stuff." You muttered. 

"That's not what I'm talking about though." 

“It was you, wasn’t it?” You asked, snuggling into his chest as his hands caressed your neck, soft fingers sending ASMR worthy tingles up your head.

Kissing your forehead, he chuckled lightly, sighing back into the bed as it creaked under him, eliciting a giggle from you, “what are you talking about.”

Plopping on your elbows, your bare chest touched his, goosebumps forming on your skin as you kissed his lips, scratching his scalp with one hand, the other tracing circles around his nipples, “Mysterio, that was you, wasn’t it?” 

You could feel him tense up, hand tightening around your waist until you were sure you would be seeing bruises the next day, previous day's nicotine still present on his lips as he nipped yours with his teeth. 

Pushing him down slightly, you looked into his eyes, dark brown like the day you had seen in the classroom, pupils nearly taking up his entire irises. You heard him sigh again, biting his lips as blush rose up his cheeks, teeth grinding in frustration, “he was going to kill everyone I loved.” 

“I know baby, it’s alright,” you said softly, caressing his cheeks as his frustration kept building.

“It’s not okay.” He whispered, voice breaking as tears leaked from his eyes, falling down his cheeks as you rest your head on his chest, “Spider-man pulls his punches, he's the good guy." 

Nodding, you wiped his tears, kissing his lips softly as you tasted the salt, “Spider-man is allowed to be angry once in a while. He was going to hurt people, you saved all of those.”

“I could’ve saved him.But sometimes I feel I hurt people around me, it’s all I’m good at.” 

“You don’t know that-”

“Yes I do! I lit a match and burned everything down” His shout startled you, his chest heaving under your hand as he stared at you with tears in his eyes, “and the worst part is that… that I enjoyed it.” 

“Peter-”

“I enjoyed hearing him struggle under me, I- I could hear his heart come to a stop, just like Mr. Stark’s had, right before Dr. Strange dragged him to Wakanda. I had to hear his heart stop beating, it was so loud- and- and all the awful things he said to me that if I was better then- then Tony would be alive- and, I just, I knew that when I felt his bones break under me- it felt so good. What kind of monster does that?” He was sobbing now, entire skin flushed, eyes scrunched as he hit his head on the pillow. 

Taking pity on him, you sit up, bringing the blanket closer to your chest and run your fingers through his scalp. You could see him relax, practically purring as you continued to untangle his fluffy curls. Steeling your voice, you cupped his cheeks, urging him to look at you, your eyes dead set as you smiled at him “You did what you had to Petey, if you hadn’t killed Mysterio that night, God knows where you would've been right now.”

Sniffling, he nodded under your touch, pulling you closer to his chest, "I like where I am right now." 

***

The emotional earthquake that was your night with Peter left you pondering, striding along the walls of your campus with an inane urgency to your steps. No one was around you but a few students who thought they were big shot drug dealers, not so subtly exchanging their poisons in the light of the night. 

The night was clear, for once, stars peeking from behind the night sky, glinting like actual diamonds. But you weren't there to appreciate the beauty of the Boston night sky. 

No, you were far from appreciating the beauty of the night sky. You would be lying to yourself if you didn't say that your conversation with Peter hadn't shaken you up. You weren't yourself, too lost in lust and desire to attend to your own words.

It was like a spell had broken that night, Peter's dark brown eyes too easy to get lost in- like a brewing storm that inevitably took you in.

Too late you had realised the weight of your own words to him, how so easily they had slipped into his desired tone. 

And it scared the shit out of you. 

"You've been ignoring me." He said casually, chewing on one end of his pencil. His eyes were on you, your heart pounding at his gaze.

"I've been busy." You speak, taking a breath. You couldn't help but feel weary, thinking of all the good things Spider-man has done, and all the bad. 

"I knew it." He whispered, making you snap your eyes to look at him. His jaw was clenched, pale face flushed with heat as he looked at you with the most heart wrenching expression.

"What are you talking about?" You gulped.

"I knew I shouldn't have fucking trusted you about everything." He said, shaking his head and walking away, "fuck you."

All you could do was stand still as his words sunk in. 

A/N: Lemme know your thoughts! :D

[spideyspeaches]

Finding your way (home) ↬ p.p

A/N: SO a very small very hastily written one shot cause I couldn't help myself XD

Warnings: brief spoilers? not really, if you haven't seen the trailer yet, no worries! Cursing? Cursing, brief description of a panic attack, but you'll squint and won't even notice!

WC: 1.5k+

Masterlist || Taglist

Everything happened so fast that it didn't make any sense.

One minute Peter was on a "date" (if you could call it that) with MJ, and the next his identity was being outed. In the haze of the panicked crowd, Peter forgot where he was going, his first instinct was to run towards the Stark Tower where you were probably next to Pepper, working with the PR department about the news of his “Identity reveal”, only to remember MJ was clinging to his chest like her life depended on it.

He should’ve probably left her in a safe house, considering now she was in danger, so yeah, her life probably, actually did, depended on it, since he was swinging at his fastest. He could hear MJ's heartbeat from where she was clinging on to him- it was erratic and tachy, she was probably pumping with adrenaline like he was, at least she wasn't shouting right now, not after Jameson's jump scare of his-

Holy freaking shirtballs!!! Fucking Jameson.

"Whatever you're thinking right now Peter, it's not true. You were not the responsible one here!" MJ shrieked next to his ear, making him flinch as he landed them on the roof of Stark Industries, "holy shit."

"I'm sorry MJ, I'm really sorry I have no idea how Jameson even got the footage, not to mention that I brought you into this, this fucking mess-" Peter rambled on, his own heart pumping out of his chest in a way that he remembered would happen after a bad asthma attack, back when he was just little kid with glasses and an array of medical conditions too complicated to remember.

God he felt like he was having an asthma attack right now, his chest was tight and lungs were working overtime to bring air in his system, the area around him a technicolor blur, spinning in and spinning out of focus-

"Peter! Peter calm down." MJ shushed him, air suddenly rushing in him like a hurricane, causing him to wheeze out a meek response of "I'm here."

Honestly, he didn't feel like he was here at the moment. Everything was happening too fast, one minute he was on the rooftop with MJ, and the next you were dragging him inside the building- FRIDAY had alerted you of his presence on the roof, Pepper by your side and a small team of four people making sure there were no paparazzi in the air.

“Where are- where are we? MJ?” Peter wheezed, one wrong step away from blacking out as three pairs of hands stabilized him before he could. He could smell the distinct smell of the penthouse’s elevator, FRIDAY’s soft Irish voice alerting them of their arrival at the floor.

“We’re at the tower Pete, you’re safe now.” You said softly, placing your hand on the small of his back as you saw the four people take MJ to the safe house, “MJ’s safe too but you can’t see her right now.”

“What am I gonna do now?” He whispered softly, looking at you with the most pitiful expression you’ve ever seen. Frowning, you run your fingers through his damp hair, ruffling the curls slightly in a way you knew was comforting to him.

“Pepper is taking care of it right now, why don’t you sit down?” You said, pulling him towards the couch, plopping down on the plush seat.

“What about MJ? Will I…” He trailed off, his eyes closing in exhaustion as you pull his face to your chest. You felt your own heart clench at the sight that was Peter Parker. You felt anger boil inside you, anger at how gullible and incredibly stupid the world was that they would believe that Peter Parker was a murderer.

You knew Peter for a long time, had been best friends ever since the time he had saved you in the SI Expo of 2008. Even before the spider had bit him, Peter had been your hero. You had immediately found out that he went to the same school as you and you being who you were, naturally found yourself inseparable from him. You had gone nearly mental with worry when you found your best friend wearing the red and blue leotard on your game night, heck Ned had crashed the lego set you and him had so carefully made, both your mouths hanging at the sight of Peter clinging to the ceiling.

You had a fight with your dad that day.

But just because you had accepted Peter being the friendly neighbourhood spider-man, didn't mean you were okay with your best friend going out every night and stopping crime. You had insisted that your dad let you use your Iron Girl armor from then on. You knew him, and it irritated you to no end at how self sacrificial this idiot was.

(An idiot you may or may not have fallen in love with.

Maybe not love, but your feelings were definitely not platonic. You couldn’t help but feel guilty when you felt joy at MJ’s departure with the team.)

“I’m tired.” Peter sighed, snapping you from your reverie. Your heart gave a loud thud at your close proximity with him, you could smell the faint vanilla shampoo in his hair, feel his biceps spasm with exhaustion.

“I know you are, but it’s gonna be okay.” You assured him, your own words sounding fictional to you. In reality, you had no idea what you were going to do, hopefully Pepper would have it handled.

“He destroyed my life, he destroyed MJ’s life, and Ned’s life and your life and May-”

“Shh, hey I told you right? We’ll figure this out.” You cut him off, raising your eyebrows when he suddenly perked up, colour returning to his face as you felt your heart pace at his expression, one that you knew all too well, “uh-oh, what’s that face for?”

“What if we ask Doctor Strange? You know, the wizard guy from space?” He perks up, the sudden change in his behavior making your head spin a little.

“What?” You asked, blinking at his excited puppy imitation.

“What if we asked Mr. Doctor Strange to make it so that Mysterio never happened?” Peter repeated, elaborating this time. He was hyperventilating, you could tell, but a part of you couldn’t help but perk up at the idea.

“Peter you know the dangers of the multiverse, if anything goes wrong, there could be catastrophic changes-”

“Yeah but isn’t he like, the lord of the wizard or something?”

Sitting in silence, you contemplated his words, processing the possibilities of calling Doctor Strange. It was no secret that your father didn’t like Strange, but you didn’t not like him. It irked Tony to no end that you and Strange got along.

Maybe Peter wasn’t far along, maybe this could work.

“He can fix this, all this… my life, he can fix whatever Mysterio destroyed.” He said, softer this time with an expression that made you purse your lips.

“Your life is not destroyed Peter, Pepper is going to make it alright.” You said quietly, not quite believing yourself.

“But Pepper won’t be able to change people’s minds! There will still be people who hate me!” He huffed, desperation leaking in his voice.

“I know Peter! Don't you think I would’ve done it already if I thought it was possible?!” Standing up from the couch, you ignored his hurt expression, “she can’t fix everything Pete.”

“But it’s Pepper! She fixes everything!” His voice was indignant, small and naive, tears brimming in his eyes. Sighing, you went over to him, crouching so that you were face to face. Cupping his cheek softly, you looked at his lips for a brief moment, reminding yourself with a shake of your head that he was headed to a date with MJ, before J Jonah Jameson threw around his cruel accusations.

“Good people deserve good things, and you, Peter Benjamin Parker, are better than good.” You sighed, sitting next to him. You were sweating, your heart racing at the closeness of his heart next to yours. At that point, you didn’t care that him and MJ were probably dating.

They had kissed in Europe, Peter had called you that night, words frantic and excited. Yet he hadn’t confirmed if he and MJ were dating. A small, selfish part of you hoped that they weren’t, a part that hoped to keep Peter all to yourself, safe in a bubble wrap and away from all the bad of the world.

“I love you.” He blurted, eyes widening at his untimely confession. Your expression softened, hope bubbling in his chest, “I mean, you know MJ-”

“I love you too.” You cut him off, biting your lip and stopping him from explaining any further, “I love you so much Peter, always have, but we have Doctor Strange to meet.”

Smiling at his perked up expression, you hesitantly leaned in to press your lips against his, pulling back briefly before he pulled at your neck, tangling his hand in your hair as he kissed you back.

“Fuck the world, we have Doctor Strange to meet.” He smirked.

A/N: HEHEHEH

[spideyspeaches]

Burning Red ↬ p.p

A/N: HI!!! long time no see :D this is for @scarletspideyy 's 4k wc! Happy 4k hun <3 and a HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO PETER PARKER!! (Ps. do not repost the edit pls!)

Also big thank you to @spidey-sophie and @loveaffaire for being the best cheer leader ever, and @peterparkers-bad-youtube-apology for beta reading :D

Warnings: multiple F bombs as well as other curses, enemies to lovers? I guess :D Find as many Taylor Swift references as you can and tell me :D BAMF!Peter + BAMF!Reader =mutual pining with miscommunication :)

WC: 5.4k (:D)

Pairing: Peter Parker x Avenger!Reader (Also kind of Stark!Peter?)

Summary: You always could rely on colours to describe one's personality, you found that out at a pretty early age. No matter how strange the person was, they always had a colour to them that matched the way they talked and walked.

Masterlist || Taglist

You felt conflicted in Peter's presence.

His aura, you felt, was like looking into a grey light— calm to some but not very appealing to the non-artisric eye.

You always could rely on colours to describe one's personality, you found that out at a pretty early age. No matter how strange the person was, they always had a colour to them that matched the way they talked and walked.

With Peter though, you found yourself in a constant state of confusion as to what colour he was. He wasn't a threat to you, in fact, he was sweet and understanding, caring of those around him, flaunting his indirect wealth to assholes who thought they could outwit him and the company that would someday be his. He was outlandish in spite of being shy and introverted but humble at the same time.

Well as humble as a boy with a multibillion dollar company in his future could be.

Or at least that's how the Avengers and the media saw him.

To you though? To you he was the most infuriating, basic bitch with Tony Stark and the Avengers at his disposal. He taunted and jabbed you at every chance he got, starting a two sided rivalry for seemingly no reason. You tried to water down your rivalry with him. But he made it incredibly difficult for you to do so. It was like his mere existence was for him to boast his intellect at you.

(Sometimes, you admired the very thing you hated about him.

From afar.

That is, until he said something that made your tummy coil inwards with contempt. If feelings were like colours, you would say that he was light blue. He was soft on the outside, but burning nearly as hot as a searing white.)

You were probably biased with your opinion about him, but you weren't going to let your confusing behaviour for the boy interfere in something as importan (or trivial, depends on perspective) as a retrieval mission. It was easy; get inside the charity gala, draw as much attention to Peter (like the colour black, your brain supplied, both shiny and stealthy) so you could be covert, just enough to prove an alibi in case the mission went wrong, and get the pym particles that were hidden somewhere among the bystanders.

Just one bystander, in fact. You remember reading her file during the pre-mission briefing with the others, how she was notorious for stealing something that wasn't hers from rich people and sell it to a willing buyer for a high price. And that's where Peter came.

You weren't as new to this Avengers business as you once were, you've been doing it for more or less three years now, and yet here you were, nervous about going undercover to a Charity Gala with Peter as you mentally went over all the details, remembering yours and Peter's job, all while trying not to get distracted by the said boy's presence beside you.

(Golden. The right colour for him was Golden, his presence was undeniable, just like money and other riches.)

Which led you to striding impatiently in your uncomfortable heels, stopping in front of Happy as he opened the door to the Audi, sighing in exasperation when you turned to look at Tony giving you and Peter a once over like an overbearing dad.

Sighing, you looked at him as he fussed with Peter's collar, "Tony—"

"Okay you two remember, don't panic if something goes wrong, call for Natasha or Steve or heck, call Clint, they'll all be on your comm. station, and whatever happens don't start a fight or put the blame on each other alright? And this applies to the both of you." Tony said pointedly, every word coming out in a single breath as he did a once-over on both you and Peter, "and most importantly—"

"-don't blow the cover." You nodded, cutting him off impatiently. Rolling your eyes, you sighed as he looked at you with furrowed brows, a frown etched on his face saying that he wasn't impressed by your back talk, "Yes Mr. Stark, we've already been through these rules, what, a million times now?"

"What does it matter if you've gone through it a million times? He's just trying to make sure that either of us don't fuck this up." Peter scowled, folding his hands in a way that made his biceps more prominent.

"Well it's definitely not gonna be me who's gonna "fuck this up" is it?" You countered, furrowing your brows with your lips turned, "besides, I don't need to be reminded every time by a stuck up brat what to do and what not to do, thank you very much."

Pursing his lips, he ignored Tony, who was giving him a warning look before he gritted at you, standing closer so that the minimal distance between you and him was made very clear. It was meant to be an intimidating stance, but to you it felt different in a way you didn't want to pry on, "If anyone's acting stuck up here, it's you."

"Oh excuse me, who's the one with a billionaire dad here?"

"Just because he's my guardian doesn't mean that you have the right to comment on his money every fucking time!" He exploded, face looking positively flushed in a not nice way that told you that you had crossed a line.

(You hated doing that. Sometimes you felt that you had no break to your mouth, accidently spilling murky yellow on the lustrous gold that was his aura. Yellow that looks shiny and golden in the sun, but disgusting when in the dark.)

Looking at Tony apologetically you sighed "I'm sorry", nodding when Tony nodded.

This was your second mission going undercover, but it was also Peter's first mission going undercover, so you weren't surprised that Tony and the others were being extra sure before sending in the coops. It wasn't everyday you went to grand events, much less undercover with Peter Parker. It wasn't like you hated going on missions with him, it was more to do with how you would rather not delve into the fact that his presence irritated you to no end. Or to an end. You just had to find the end.

It had been long since the news of Tony signing the papers to (platonically) co-parent Peter had spread, yet he still acted as if even a little wrong move was going to change May Parker's mind of sharing her nephew with the infamous billionaire.

Don't get her wrong, May was an excellent parent, but knowing that Peter had another male figure in his life that understood Peter's plight of being a superhero/vigilante eased some of the tension in her. She wanted the best for Peter, and she wasn’t ashamed to ask for help due to the unprecedented death of Ben Parker putting a sizable dent on their bank accounts. Not when it came to her only nephew.

You didn't mind Tony being a helicopter parent with Peter most of the time, because he was surprisingly humble about his inheritance for someone who was fed every morning with cereals which probably cost more than a three course meal in a fancy hotel, with a silver spoon no less. It may have to do with the fact that just a little over a decade ago he had witnessed his aunt and uncle barely scrape by with a plastic spoon.

(Silver, another colour that showed riches, not as shiny as gold but held the same purpose.)

But sometimes, you feel left out. More often than not, you missed your parents and their constant hovering. The gap was bridged by the Avengers, they were like second parents to you, but purposely or not, Peter being their first child had its own effects.

Maybe what you really felt was envy for Peter Parker's luck, and it made you feel terrible at times. You may not have been a new Avenger, much newer and for far less longer than Peter has been, but that didn't mean you didn't feel a spark of jealousy ignite in your chest every time you saw Peter interact with Tony.

“I’m gonna pretend you’re not standing next to me.” You sniffed, turning your back to him just to be petty.

"I don't think that would be a problem with me." Peter said smugly, looking at you with the corner of his eyes as he fiddled with the expensive watch he was wearing. You couldn't help but give him a once over— the boy was attractive for sure, the all black suit, tailored specifically to compliment his sharp jawline and the sparsely visible gold chain didn't help staunch the suave air around him.

Scoffing, you rolled your eyes, folding your hands over your chest as you squinted at the boy, "remind me again, which one of us is going undercover for the first time?"

"Okay kids! This is exactly what I mean by bickering. I'm gonna go now, don't give Hap too much trouble, and stay safe." Tony interjected, giving you both an exasperated look that was followed by a sad/fond look.

(Conflict in expression, something that Mr. Stark excelled in. He was hot pink in a way, some people hated it, some people bathed in the dark yet appealing colour.)

"Of course Mr. Stark, you know I won't let you down." You said, looking at the man with a solemn expression. And you were serious too, you weren't gonna let go of your chance to prove your worth because of a petty rivalry with Peter.

"Me too, Tony." Peter added. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, watching as Tony stepped backwards and ran towards the tower, not before giving you both a cheesy thumbs up.

"Me too,Tony," you mocked with a high pitched voice with a roll of your eyes, "hope you mean those words, because it won't look good for you if you mess this up somehow."

"Just 'cause this isn't your first mission, doesn't mean you can't make mistakes." He countered, gritting his teeth as you furrowed your brows at him, "I really don't want to start a fight right now."

"Yeah whatever, just don't mess it up, daddy won't be there to clean up the mess this time." You hissed, making sure that Tony wasn't in earshot to hear your jab.

"What do you mean this time? I've never messed up an undercover mission before?!"

"That's 'cause you've never been to one you idiot!"

"Hey hey you two, stop with the bickering." Happy grunted, pulling up the divider so that you two were now left alone with the leather seats.

The air was uncomfortable, almost as uncomfortable as the itchy and shimmery gown you were wearing. You turned a weary eye to Peter, who was fiddling with the ring on his finger— a nervous habit you had noticed of his. The ring belonged to his uncle, he had told you once with an injury—addled mind, and why you still remembered such a trivial detail was beyond you.

"I know I act like an ass most of the time, but I'm really not." He said suddenly, making you snap your head to his.

"You wanna apologise right now?" You retaliated, giving him a side eye as he looked up, "I get it, you're nervous for your speech, you don't have to apologise to me right now and for no fucking reason too."

“It’s like you don’t even try.” He scoffed, looking sideways at the window. Your heart gave a sickening lurch in your chest at his implications.

“I do try. The way you act though, it negates all the positive feelings in me.” you said, softly this time before clearing your throat.

“I’m starting to think it’s not me who’s emotionally constipated here.” He snarked, shaking his head and going back to staring outside the blacked out windows.

“Why do you care now anyway?!”

You didn't know why he wanted to talk about it right now when it was his first time on a mission. You knew from experience that adding unnecessary feelings to a mission only ended up in injuries, and Peter? He was good at this feelings shit, but you guessed that Tony let his son/protege to the gala only because he was already supposed to be there to promote the new technology.

"Yeah, well studies show—”

“—I really don’t care about studies right now Peter.” You cut him off, wincing internally at his crestfallen expression. You may have snapped at him, but you were nervous too, and the last thing you wanted to do right now was talk. Talking made you nauseous, especially in an expensive limo that smelled like leather seats and money.

(Leather was brown, comforting as china pots, also like the mud that stuck to your feet during rainy days.)

The ride was short, the venue was nearer to the compound upstate than from the Avengers tower, hence why you had decided to stay there instead of the tower like you always did.

"Stay safe kids." Happy said again, giving you a tentative smile before opening the door for you and Peter.

"We will Happy." You smiled back, subtly adjusting your comm as you brushed your hair back. The comm was not visible, embedded deep in your ear where you could hear the static voice of Natasha and Steve bickering. You were hoping to see them in the background, just to assure the fact that you were covered.

It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Peter, because much as you hated to admit the fact, Peter was the most trustworthy person you had ever met.

Walking towards the entrance, you held onto Peter's bicep, taking out the invitation to give it to the guard. He looked at you briefly, giving Peter a once over and then scrambling aside as if electrified. It was probably the “—Stark” next to his name.

As expected, the hall was packed and filled with a sort of air you weren’t familiar with. You felt bad for stepping into such a rich environment, goosebumps coating your skin that had nothing to do with the cool air of the AC and more to do with Peter’s hand on your waist, wrapped firmly but at a respectable position at the same time. So far, no one had noticed two nervous, awkward twenty year olds trying to blend in.

Well only one of you was trying, you noticed.

(Like black again, blending in the shadows but showing its presence when in the light. Both stealthy and sexy.)

Despite Peter’s shy and awkward persona, it was easy for him to blend in any sort of environment. His personality was magnetic— people tended to attract towards him like he was some sort of diva. He could hold a conversation just as easily as breathing, something that Tony had taught him to do now that he was under the media’s constant observation— what with being the heir of Stark Industries and stuff, and he had adapted to that quicker than anticipated.

You found yourself breathing heavily next to him, your heart pounding in your chest at double the normal pace, the unusual behaviour of your body making you nervous.

"You ready?" You whispered to him, looking at his expression under the artificial lights as they illuminated his sharp cheekbones, creating highlights that rivaled the sunlight.

"Yeah, I'm good. You?" He asked, looking at you with a nervous grin.

"I'm good too." You nodded with a shy smile, and to your own surprise, you slid your hand further down his hand until your palm touched his. It was callused but soft at the same time, and if the gesture surprised him, he didn't let it show on his face.

"Good. That's good." He breathed, rubbing his other palm on his pant leg, letting you guide him so that you were now in a crowded room, people around you oblivious to you and Peter entering as they were too busy in the flurry of guests that were probably twice your age.

You looked around, trying to look for a person your age, or even close to your age. This may be a charity gala, but it was meant for clean energy awareness and fundraising. It was a Stark Gala. And Tony Stark was nowhere to be seen. Sooner rather than later, people were going to notice that the current chairperson of Stark Industries wasn't present, his heir present there instead.

So there have to have been people your age, hanging on their rich parents' hands.

The motive was to let people notice Peter so that you could sneak behind their backs to steal back what was stolen from the Avengers.

"We're here." You whispered in the comm, smiling at Peter as he subtly shook his head, squeezing your now sweaty palm. Fanning yourself, you strutted forward until you were near the podium, taking a seat on an unoccupied table.

"Welcome, ladies, gents and all our esteemed guests!" The speaker said, his voice cackling through the speakers.

His voice seemed to have quietened the noisy room, everyone's attention now towards him.

"You would think that in a gala full of rich people pretending to like each other, we wouldn't need to be shushed like kindergarteners in a school assembly, but nooo." You muttered quietly, sipping at the bubbly champagne.

"Yeah, no these people are worse, trust me." Peter chuckled, eyeing you subtly from the side, "do you think I'll do good?"

His question startled you, raising an eyebrow at him. You looked at him properly again, trying to find any trace of insincerity, but all you found was flustered nervous energy. To an untrained eye, he would look like any nervous bystander, but you knew better.

"Yeah." You nodded softly.

You knew for a fact that he knew Stark Technology like the lines on the back of his hands; he wouldn't find it difficult to hold people's attention when on the podium. No, he wasn't nervous about that, he was nervous for you.

Being undercover wasn't as easy as they show in James Bond movies, you were shaking with adrenaline and the constant chatter in your comm. and your surrounding wasn't doing any good to your nerves.

"Hey, can you hear me?" Natasha spoke in your ear. You saw Peter perk up slightly from your periphery.

"Yeah." You whispered, looking at Peter with a smile, "what happened? Change of plans?"

"Nope. Did you find your position?"

"In a minute." Nodding at Peter in cue, he smiled, standing up and walking towards the stage for the speech.

Turning your head, you tried to look for the target who had stolen the pym particles, your eyes zeroing on a head of blond waves, now making her way to Peter who was already talking in the microphone, the crowd cheering his entrance.

"Think I found her. Making her way to Peter." You mutter, pretending to take a drink as you watch him speak, keeping your other eye trained on her figure as she moved. She was standing by the huge speakers, and yet no one seemed to have noticed her.

"Look out for her partner. She's sneaky but he's dangerous too."

"Doesn't she have powers too? Daggers made of light hence her name, right?" You questioned, walking towards her as Peter continued to talk. The crowd seemed enchanted, all of their attention to the speaker as he babbled technical jargon. That was good for You, you could sneak out and no one would notice.

"That's her. Tandy Bowen, nineteen years old and notoriously known for stealing what's not hers, usually from rich men."

Snorting, you stumbled on a table, cursing internally, "yeah like Peter's a man. Or attractive."

"I didn't say anything about attractive."

Though you couldn't see her, you could practically hear her smirking. Your cheeks started heating up at her tone, just as he made eye contact with you from up there— it was brief, but it still made you want to drown in a fistful of water. Clearing your throat, you took a deep breath, ignoring the strange feeling in your chest. Maybe you needed to get that looked.

(It was the golden of his aura and black of his suit that made your heart jump that way. His blinding white smile towards the audience, the crimson of his lips. Too many colours to memorize.)

From the audience, you watched as he confidently spoke, answering questions like he was breathing. Your heart fluttered in your chest looking at him up there, emotions clogging up your throat for seemingly no reason.

Narrowing your eyes, you saw Peter walking down the stairs, meeting her halfway down. He was saying something, using his hands to gesture at her.

Their interaction brought an unnecessary spark of jealousy in you, clenching your fists when you saw her giggle at something he said, squirming around him as if checking him out. Gosh you hated nothing more than pretentious bitches.

"Got her." You said in your comm., walking towards the blonde figure as she stood near the staircase next to him. Widening your eyes when she made contact with you, you moved back hastily, nearly dashing into the waiter as you tried to hide yourself from her view.

Real subtle L/n. You chastised yourself internally, just like red.

"Hey Peter!" You said, smiling sweetly as you stood next to him, not so subtly wrapping your arm around his bicep as he looked at you weirdly before you gave the fakest laugh, "You were so great over there. Can't believe how smart you are, you've got both brains and brawn. "

Catching on, he gave you a thin smile which looked suspiciously like a smirk, holding your palm, "glad you liked it, babe. Aim high, am I right?"

"You think you're funny don't you?" You chuckle, feeling a surge of satisfaction when she shuffled awkwardly before tilting your head as if just noticing her, "sorry, who are you?"

"That's none of your business." She said, startling you with a smirk of her own, “I was just talking to him, didn’t realise he had a bitch stuck to him like someone on s leash.”

“Gosh you really don't know how to insult someone,” you snicker, “babe you really think I’m his arm candy? She’s funny isn’t she?” you looked at him at this, satisfied at the colour that rose up her cheeks in frustration when Peter pursed his lips, hands falling down low on your waist — too low.

"What was that?" Peter asked, a smirk playing on his lips before you roll your eyes.

"Did you see her? She was totally flirting with you." You grit, rubbing your hands with your palms, which were now full of goosebumps, "and losing her mind trying to insult me."

"No she wasn't?" He frowned, "was she?"

Laughing, you looked at him in the eye only to see that he really hadn't noticed, "Seriously?"

Nodding his head at which you rolled your eyes again,"the flirting trifecta?" Huffing when he gave no indication of understanding, you continued speaking, "the pretentious giggle? Awkward squirm and hair twist?"

"Doesn't flirting include a pickup line?" He asked, now positively smirking at your squirming figure. You chewed your lip at his question, decided to give a non hahalmt nod.

"If you're lucky and the girl's into you, then yes, then comes the pick up line." You said nonchalantly with a shrug.

"Hmm, are you sure you're not into me then?" He smirked.

"What? Hell no Parker." You scoff, your heart thudding in your chest as you say that.

"Aww that's tragic, cause I was really thinking you were my hydrogen." He snickered, "You know, cause you're the one?"

Deciding to play along with his stupid behaviour, your shrugged mischievously, "Is that some kind of nerd pick-up line? Because it’s only kind of working."

"Oh my god did you just quote The Good place?!" His laughter was infectious, you realises as you felt something stir in your belly, an unknown feeling of pleasure that made you want to laugh with him then and there until you got looks from the people around you.

"Why do you care who I flirt with anyway?" He said after the bout of laughter had settled down, your brain landed back to the mission at hand.

Clearing your throat, you looked down, disappointed that the happy mood didn't last long, "I don't care who you flirt with Parker, just don't want you getting distracted by some pretty girl." looking past his shoulders only to see the girl— Tandy Bowen, running towards the entrance, something akin to test tubes in her hand with another boy in her tow.

"And because she's running away." You mutter, pushing past him as you ignore his squeak, wincing at the "hey!" when you dropped someone's champagne glass in haste, "sorry sir!" Looking back briefly to see if he was following, you run past yelling people, clashing into objects and nearly twisting your ankle, right as Peter dashed into you.

"Dammit what the fuck Parker!?" You shout, punching the table when you lose sight of her, your blood boiling with frustration that you tried to calm. Cursing out the brunette was not going to do you any good, "sorry, didn't mean to shout."

"Language." Cap chastised you, as you realised that your comm was still on due to his untimely scolding. It was a joke amongst the avengers, yet it didn't seem to deter Steve from saying it every time someone cursed. He sounded out of breath, which probably meant that the only work you had to do was find the damn girl, "we have the test tubes, you got the rest?"

"We're on it!" He said frantically, helping you up as you see people starting together around you, "You find her?" Peter said, startling you as you yelped so hard that you felt your soul jumping out of you.

"Yeah, no thanks to you!" You squeak away from him, looking around wearily in search of the familiar blonde head.

"No thanks to me?! I did my job well!" He scoffed, folding his hands under his chest, a frown etched on his forehead.

"If it hadn't been for you dashing into me with your clumsy ass feet then I would've followed her!" You counter, stomping your foot and nearly fisting his nose. You noticed that at some point, you had removed your heels and held them in your hands, discarding them somewhere so that you were now barefoot and without anything to wear.

"Yeah whatever. Let's go and find her, now's not the time to show how much better you are than me."

Rolling your eyes, you followed him as Nat said something in your ear, something about Clint following in the vents with his arrows and Steve on his tow.

“Are you sure you’re up for this?” Natasha said, “Clint has eyes on her, south entrance, there’s someone with her.”

“We're good Nat, don’t worry.” Peter answered, clutching onto your hand as you weaved through the crowd, "you see her?"

"Yeah and she's climbing out of the window!" You usher, flinching when you hear a loud thud, wondering how no one had noticed the strange occurrence count for the few that looked at the noise, going back to their work.

The hall was nearly empty now, save for the cleaners and the other partygoers who were busy with negotiations. But that was good, the less the people noticed, the easier it was for the Avengers to deal with the press.

Looking at Peter with wide eyes, you nodded, moving towards the window and peeping slowly, expecting to see a human pancake, instead nearly getting stabbed in the eye with a flashy dagger you knew all too well, the light dissipating in the air of the empty hallway.

"Look out!" Peter shouts, pulling you sideways so that your body collided into his panting chest behind your back, one hand held firmly wrapped around your waist as you suck in needy breaths.

"Oh my god." You pant, noticing the firm grip Peter had on your waist, his other hand draped around your chest (which was now pounding and clenching with the feeling of his palm) in order to keep you upright, "you can uh… get your hands off me now."

"R-right. Yeah sorry." He stumbles, wiping his hands on his blazer.

"Got her handled. Good job you guys." Natasha spoke a moment later. You had caught your breath by now, and yet you hadn't moved from your position.

"Thank God." You mumble, bending down to your knees to catch a breath. You feel his eyes staring at you, looking up to see Peter's flushed face at your position, "enjoying the view?"

You hear him clear his throat, standing up erect so you were facing him, now with a smirk.

"You did good Parker." You nodded finally, patting his chest hesitantly. He was looking at you with his mouth agape at your change in behaviour, running to catch up.

"You were good too." He said a little while after.

His face was still flushed, you noticed. Shaking your head internally, you tentatively kept a hand on his shoulder, your so called irritation for him slipping away.

"What's wrong?" You ask, soft as the first time when you'd met him. Looking around for Happy as you see the shield agents taking the girl away along with the boy next to her, the press crowding around Steve, who was explaining why the police were at yet another Stark charity gala.

"Nothing much. Just… um," he stumbled through his words, "Nothing."

"Nothing what?" You urge, your patience running out as you see people running around you.

"Wanna go somewhere else?" Peter asked, wincing at the loud sirens and blinding strobe lights blinding you to the beat of your heart, you saw red and blue, like the colours of Spider-man. You winced in sympathy, that had to have hurt with senses like his.

"You do realise we still have to give our report to Fury right? He won't let us out unless we brief out every detail of tonight " You remind him, a slight thump in your chest telling you to ignore Fury. Especially the details, when the feeling of the touch of his hand was still prominent and new.

The street was bustling, and you were sure no one was going to notice the way your heart pounded with each thump of the people running, Peter's eyes staring at you, shine akin to that of hot black coffee with a spoonful of honey, smooth.

At that moment You felt yourself disappear within the crowd, his lone figure the only thing standing between you and the road in front of you like a statue.

You tilted your head, the sudden urge to lunge forward crushing you along with the exhaustion in your bones.

You were done, done pretending to be someone in a Gala full of sparkles and money, diamond studded shoes and bodies donned with laces, the mission was over and you were out.

(And pretending that the site of a blushing Peter Parker didn't make you feel some way, heart pounding, hands sweating and knees weak.)

"Hey, uh… you know what-" you started at the same time as Peter. Chuckling, you gestured for Peter to go ahead.

"So uh-" Peter started, eyes widening in surprise when you shushed him when you put your lips close to his. His hands automatically reached to hold your waist as your lips pushed against his- soft and calm, tasting like your cherry lip balm and sweat.

"What?" He stuttered, causing you to giggle.

The background came to you in a rush, the honking of cars and flashing of sirens and the chatter of people along with the pedestrians padding along the road. The sudden sensory overload made you stumble a little, making you realise- or maybe that wasn't what made you realise.

Your realisation that you didn't regret publicly kissing Peter Parker-Stark caught you by surprise. You weren't sure why you did it, the feeling of his lips zooming in into you like a freight train. It felt like being electrified (blue).

Maybe you didn't hate him, maybe there was underlying affection to the harsh words you said to each other, Natasha was right. And that all it took was some petty criminal and going undercover to make you realise that.

"I-I'm sorry, sorry I didn't even ask you-" you started, realising that he was standing with his eyes soft as Bambi's.

And this time it was Peter Parker who interrupted you, his thin lips closing around yours as if they were meant to be there, "Fuck Fury, let's go hide somewhere."

"Sounds like a plan." You smirk, caressing his hair. It was when you were curling your hand around his neck and leaning in for another peck, you felt yourself burn red.

Permanent taglist :

Divider by @lauras-collection

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[spideyspeaches]

Flesh ↬ (t.h)

A/N: IT’S THE MONTH OF HALLOWEEEEEENNNN. I'm excited and am gonna try and write nat least twice a week until the endgame so.. hehehe :D

Summary: You were thinking of him again. He was as fascinating to you as any creature you had come across in the eternity could get, but what you didn't understand was your attraction towards him. Your kind had been dealing with supernatural creatures like him- Vampires, for centuries. Yet you found him … different from others. To you, he was a thing of beauty, captivating and addicting the way blood was to him.

Warnings: blood, vampirism, sex (fingering? it’s not like, full penetration lol, but lets be cautious here, 18+ onli!!!), implied death, animal death and all the supernatural mumbo jumbo.

PS. if you recognise this fic, yes it’s that one, except it’s heavily edited and basically nothing like the old one kjdbjskah

P.p.s I might have more halloween themed works coming, should I make a separate masterlist for them?

WC: 3.3K

Pairing: Vampire!Tom x Reader

Masterlist || Taglist

You walked around the dark place, tracing your hands along the crevices and indents of the concrete walls, your jaw slacking at the beauty of the gold plated lines and crystal lights hanging around, adorning the walls and reflecting the moonlight as it entered through a tiny gap of the dark house.

You wondered what it felt like, to live in a place filled with darkness and lust that encompassed the human body in a burning desire, screaming until the human throat ripped itself apart, slapping until the flesh of your body was bitten into. You didn't know where the metaphors came from, but perhaps, you were learning the human language after spending quite some time with them.

You were thinking of him again. He was as fascinating to you as any creature you had come across in the eternity could get, but what you didn't understand was your attraction towards him. Your kind had been dealing with supernatural creatures like him- Vampires, for centuries. Yet you found him … different from others. To you, he was a thing of beauty, captivating and addicting the way blood was to him.

You could stare at him all day, you realised, as blood pumped through your vessel's body in an absurd depiction of what humans called "blushing", it's dead heart lighting up with your grace when you thought of his sharp jaw and blood red eyes, the way the veins in his forearms popped up whenever he fed or moved his lifeless flesh.

Your thoughts were interrupted when your back hit the concrete wall, pain coursing through your back as your wings took the brunt of the force.

“You're here.” You stated, looking at him up and down as he smiled. His fangs weren't outright visible, you noticed. Letting go of you in his chokehold, he nodded, looking down almost shyly.

“I would always come for you angel.” He said, voice rough from years of overuse. Crossing his arms, he fiddled with his fingers as you raised an eyebrow. He looked gaunt, lifeless, an ironic comparison when you come to think of it.

"Well that's one way to put it." You joked, smiling lopsided when you hear him shake his head with a laugh.

He had been dead for centuries, yet he looked the most alive. Vampires were weird that way, living like they actually had a beating heart, yet trapped in a dead body infected by an incurable disease. Your stomach roiled when you realised that you had thought of Vampirism as a disease.

"What are you thinking about?" He asked.

"How long has it been since you've fed?" You asked back, standing fixing your crooked wings in a vain effort to straighten them. The torn feathers stared at you, almost tauntingly, urging you to use them as a getaway from him.

You had been banished from heaven for courting a vampire. Yet somehow, you didn't care if heaven would take you back or not. The one thing about falling in love with an immortal being is that the constant fear of losing your loved one comes undone.

"I fed yesterday." He smiled tightly, biting his lips enough to tear a small part of his skin. You saw right through the smile. You were a celestial being. Former or not.

"I think you're lying." You scoff, moving forward to tussle up his shirt a bit, tracing your fingers along his skin. You felt him shiver under your touch, whatever useless grace that was permanently etched in your vessel's bones making sensation possible for him.

"Fine. It's been a week. I'm starving and the pandemic seems to have infected almost half the population so people don't come out as often as they did." His confession sent a pang in your chest, pity lacing your brain.

"You know you could-"

"You know I can't."

Right. Until you restored your full grace, him feeding off of You could potentially kill you. You sometimes forgot that you were only human now, You hated being powerless, you realised numbly.

"Where are your bags?" You asked, referring to the blood bags he kept in the freezer.

"I took some but some of it has gone stale."

"What about cattle blood?"

"It's not the same." He shook his head.

Cattle blood was a good substitute, and many vampires lived on it, but there’s only so much substitutes you can take before you give in to the animalistic urge to get fresh blood.

Silence overtook you both, the ticking of the grandfather clock hitting your eardrums like a bomb going off in the distance. You faintly heard the rustle of leaves and what sounded like footsteps, relaxing the tense muscles of your shoulders when you realised that it was probably a stray animal. Seizing up the opportunity, you walk towards the source of the sound, brandishing your angel knife, holding it in a fist in a protective stance.

You startled when he suddenly appeared behind you, his hands on your shoulder as you stiffened at the approaching prey. Throwing your knife at the poor animal, you run towards it to see a gush of blood from the fallen deer. Kneeling down, you retrieve the knife, wiping off the blood on your clothes and move aside, you look away when you see him gulp, Adam's apple bobbing up and down.

“Go ahead.” You gestured at the animal. You felt no pity, you realised.

He didn’t wait a second before sinking his fangs into the dead creature, tearing apart the flesh and devouring the blood with a fervor that surprised you. You could see him breathe deeply from your periphery. You knew animal blood was not as satisfying as human blood was, but it was something. Better than nothing, right?

“Do you think you’d do… whatever you do for me was I an actual human?” He asks suddenly, making you raise an eyebrow at him. You thought about it yourself, especially now that you were in a mortal’s body. Would you have gone to the lengths of being banished from heaven to protect a human, a mortal, fragile human who would die with the snap of his neck, who would be gone after a short amount of time, leaving a gaping hole in you? You found that the answer was unclear to you.

“I don’t understand what you’re trying to say.” you say instead, masking wonder with innocence.

“You know very well what I’m trying to say.” His mouth was coated in blood and it was a grotesque site, yet he was glowing under the moonlight.

You looked at him, properly meeting his eyes and gave a taut nod. You couldn’t get yourself to talk right now, knowing how selfish you might sound if he heard you talk about mortal life.

“Just because I know, doesn’t mean I have to answer.” You said a tad too harshly. Fiddling with your wings, you let them droop before breathing deeply. You saw him wipe the blood, getting it all over his sleeves. He was wearing sweats today, probably to dress up as the generation Z or whatever. It was cute.

You stayed in silence for more, the sounds of birds and crickets around you soothing your thoughts, and you could almost pretend that you were in heaven again, your wings fresh and strong as you sat in Eden’s garden, plucking apples and playing with your other mates. The stench of blood and flesh brought you back from your daydream, you realised that you were both sitting on the damp ground, legs crossed and hands tucked on your knees.

He was staring at you, fangs still barred, and you hated to admit it, but the human part of you that your grace had not infected felt turned on. He looked amazing, the breaking of dawn not affecting him in the slightest, and you had the urge to tell him to sink his teeth into your flesh, before aggressively pressing down the thought.

“What are you thinking about love?” He asks, raising his mountainous eyebrow.

“Bold of you to assume I was thinking at all.” You smirked, running your hands on your calf, feeling the chaffed skin of when friction had done it’s work with the wall you had crashed into. He looked at the rash and the irritated skin, before softly touching it.

You gave a soft gasp, your mind blanking at his touch.

The sounds of scream echoed in the hallway, pristine white walls splattering with blood as you took a tentative step, almost slipping on the blood. You braced yourself on the wall to stop you from tripping.

“Angel?” His voice sounded distant, almost underwater as you struggled to bring your head above water, memories of your time before you fell flashing before you in a dizzy spell.

“I’m good.” You retrieved your leg, rocking back and forth.

“You’re a bane! Interacting with such a foul creature, you should be ashamed of yourself!”

“But sir-”

“-don’t. Stop talking. Right now.”

“Sweetheart, you’re spiraling again.”

Anger built in your gut, coiling around like a wildfire before you pushed him off you. Your sudden outburst shocked him, his eyes glowing with fury for a moment, before they calmed down.

Slowly reaching his hands towards You, he took your hand in his, rubbing circles with his thumb on your knuckles. You squeezed your eyes shut, flashes of Zachariah and Anael and other siblings of yours crowding around You. Their sinister grins as they stole your grace, throwing you out like a shooting star waiting to explode.

That night was the worst night of your life. When you used to be a celestial being, you were now stuck in a mortal’s body, weak and vulnerable.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t notice the silver blade being thrown at you, barely dodging the sharp object with a yelp. Your heart would be racing was your vessel alive, breath coming out in short pants. Shakily looking at the source of the weapon, you came face to face with a hunter.

“Shit! She’s not a vamp! Are you sure your sources were right?” One of the men said, looking behind wearily at another tall, lanky man.

You heard Tom growl behind you, placing your hand on his chest to stop him, his fangs already appearing.

“It’s the guy behind her, not her.” The other man said.

“Stop!” You shouted, making them stop at their tracks, “He’s harmless, I swear! We don’t hurt anyone, he even stopped drinking human blood!”

“Sweetheart he’s not human. One day he will lose his control and he will kill someone. It’s in his blood. He’s a monster.” The shorter man snarled, angrily shoving you and grabbing Tom’s neck, the stake in his hand nearly piercing his neck.

“No! Stop! Stop it!” Your cries were in vain as he just shoved you, but you were determined. You gave a swift punch to his head, the little grace left in your helping you. The punch aggravated the other hunter to lunge at you, and everything went down to shit after that.

You had lost control before, but then you had been a celestial being, now you were a mere mortal with some supernatural powers that were beyond your self control, so it wasn’t really your fault. They had aggravated you. With a growl, you shoved the hunter pinning down Tom, holding him by the back of his collar and chucking to the other side, the surprise was evident on his friend’s face as he leaped into action.

“Hun, please stop before you hurt them even more.” He whispered in your ear. You breathed heavily, your hand stretched out in front of you, palm open.

“But they hurt you! They didn’t even listen to me!” You growled, an anxious pang making you question your choices and impulse control.

The first man fell with a thud, a sickening crack echoing your mind as he collided with the wall, the second man racing to stab you with the angel blade in his hand. Tom saw the commotion and stepped into action, holding you back from hurting the other man. It was when you were standing on top of the man, blood oozing out of his wound where your hand was hovering, that the severity of the situation hit you like a freight train, the wind knocking out of your lungs.

Your eyes suddenly widened as you registered the sharp pain hit your abdomen, looking down at the grinning hunter as he removed his hands from the blade plunged at your stomach, just as he passed out.

With a strangled cry, you look at the knife inside your body, blood dripping from the seams of the injury. Before you could help it though, you were stupid enough to remove the knife, giving a shrill cry as it let the blood flow out even faster. You were getting dizzy with every drop of blood lost, the world spinning with a sickening lurch, before black spots appeared in your vision.

“Oh god uh, dammit! Y/N, angel, stay with me please, keep your eyes open!” You heard Tom say. You tried to talk, but your throat clogged up with blood, choking on the metallic taste, almost gagging.

“You’re gonna be okay sweetheart, just hold on okay?” He was looking around for something to staunch bleeding and placed his hand on your abdomen. It took everything in him to not suck the blood, and then it clicked. His blood. Apparently it was obvious as to what he was thinking because your eyes widened as you held his cheek, shaking your head frantically.

“Tom- I- don’t do it please don’t.” You sobbed, coughing some blood.

“You know I have to! You will die!”

“Then let me die! I’m sick of this, sick of living like a bane. I don’t want this life anymore.” It was clearly the blood loss talking, but deep inside, you knew your words were true.

“You can’t say that! I will have no one to live for.” His voice edged at a whisper, a stray tear falling on his cold skin.

Your vision was nearly obscured by the darkness, and next thing you knew, the world was dark again.

_____________________________

You woke up with a start, wondering if you had resided in Asphodel or was this just a fever dream. Breathing heavily, you felt a strange sensation, the world glowing in a familiar technicolor hue. What had happened? Had God restored your Grace, were you once again an angel?

A drop of water on the bedside lamp caught your eye, your vision much sharper than your mortal body. You tried to remember what happened, because the last thing you remember was a pair of hunters stabbing you and Tom hovering over you.

Tom.

Your chest heaved with a sudden realisation as you scrambled for the sheets draped over you, the urge to cry in frustration too strong to ignore. A multitude of emotions crossed your mind as you looked around the empty room, your senses overloaded due to the extraterrestrial input.

"You're awake." A voice you knew said. Gritting your teeth, you looked at him. He looked tired, bags present under his eyes and the grime lines more prominent.

"You did it didn't you?" You asked. You didn't know what to feel. All your life you had been taught to hate Vampires, and then you were falling in love with one. Not only that, but now he has converted you into his kind.

"You know I had to, you were dying!" He argued, throwing his hands in the air to show his frustration.

You felt guilty for feeling disgust, hatred. But what surprised you was that you were not angry at him, but yourself, God and those two hunters that chose a Day like this to come hunt him.

"Yeah well dying is better than becoming this!" Your words came out on their own accord, the guilt surfacing on your face when you saw the hurt look on his face. "I- I didn't mean it like that baby, you know I love you right?"

"Yeah, okay." He said, clenching his jaw, a tick that usually corresponded to anger.

"Can we just… Can you just hold me please?" You said, shifting on the bed. You saw him fighting a smile but he ended up complying, sitting on the vacated area.

"I had no choice. I love you too much to let go." His voice was low, solemn and calm. It sends chills up your spine.

His voice always did that to you, but you weren't too sure how you were gonna work now that you were … completely dead.

Instead of putting much thought into it, you held his head with one hand, bringing him close to your face and kissed him.

Even after so many years of being dead, his lips were soft as ever, pushing against yours in a way that left you trembling for more. Taking his head in your hands, you let your fingers rub tiny circles on his neck as you straddled him, rubbing your hips against his in slow motion.

Your kiss was gaining momentum, and before you knew it, you were both a panting mess, hair messy and clothes askew.

"I love you too by the way." You chuckled, pushing a lock of hair behind his ear getting up a bit before sitting on his hips, each of your legs on either side of his waist. You played with the hair on the nape of his neck, your hands slipping under the hem of his shirt, tugging at it to get him to remove it.

His fingers roamed around your body, moving from your thigh to your waist, coming to a stop at your bra. He was fiddling with the strap and unhooking it, caressing the skin under your breasts.

“You’re so beautiful.” He grumbled against your neck, his teeth leaving indents against your sensitive skin. You couldn’t help but moan at the sensation of his fangs sinking in, a few droplets of blood oozing out but quickly closing in.

“You know, we have to address the elephant in the room eventually.” You gritted your teeth, whimpering when you felt his hands massage your breasts, fingering the nipple as he slowly, sinfully so, trailed his kisses down there, reaching the underside of them to leave small kitten-like kisses.

Pushing him against the headboard, you removed his clothes with a fervor that surprised you too, the sudden change in the intensity of your movements bringing you closer to a high that you would have never felt when you were an angel.

“Well right now I just want to fuck you.” he said, sliding his hands into your panties and fingering your clit, making you throw your head back and hiss as his long fingers worked their magic.

“I knew you wanted me alive for only that.” You smirked, ended eyes glinting in the shallow light.

***

“What are we gonna do now?” He asks as you shift your position so that you were facing him, caressing his face. He sighed under the soft touch, taking your hand in his and giving it a small kiss.

You looked at his shirtless form, chest glistening under the moonlight, the shadows enhancing his muscular stature. A grin tugged on your face as you snuggled closer to him, burying your face into his collarbones and kissing his chest.

He giggled as you did so, bringing his arms to wrap them around You, kissing your forehead as you continued to pepper kisses along his chest and neck, finally finding his lips.

Whereas your previous kiss was hungry and passionate, this one was softer and so full of love. Curling your hand around his neck, you played with his curls until you had to move away to take a breath, only to realise that you didn't need to breathe.

"We'll figure it out." You smiled.

Tagging some frens: @selfcarecap @hollandsmushroom @hollandsvogue @parkerpeter24 @worldoftom @vendettaparker @spidey-sophie @blissfulparker @strkey @tomdiddlyumptious @duskholland @t-lostinworlds @tomhollandd @peterparkers-bad-youtube-apology @harryhollandsgirlfriend @arvinrussellsgirlfriend @spidernerdsblog @annathesillyfriend @justapurrcat (hope y'all don't mind sjdhfkdsj)

[spideyspeaches]

Harley:You're spider-man, okay? You save lives and kick villain asses. Everyone wants you, you're like the hot girl that every guy wants.

Peter: I'm the hot girl?

Harley: You're the hottest girl.

Peter: ...I'm a hot girl!🥰

Y/N: yes you are.

[spideyspeaches]

You're worth it ↬p.p

A/N: I'm in my sick feels so here's some sick whiny Peter 😔😔✨💔 also I wrote this at 2 am in like 20 mins lol so rip.

Wc: 1.3k

Warnings: uhh general sickness, Peter being a dramatic lil bitch.

Pairing: college!Peter Parker x Avenger!Reader (with a lot of platonic MJ)

Masterlist

Peter was pretty sure he was dying. No, he wasn't being dramatic.

In all the years of being Spider-Man, he could count on his fingers the number of times he had gotten sick. And it was one.

He remembered when he got bit by the radioactive spider on the field trip to OsCorp, the week later which he spent in bed, sweating on every surface and a fever so high the doctors wondered how his brain hadn't melted yet.

Even when all the resources were exhausted, they couldn't find a cause, and the miraculous recovery with a plus of the sudden appearence of abs and growing biceps had been more of a relief than a dismissal by the doctors, each of them releasing a sigh of relief, neither of them noticing the strange behaviour Peter seemed to be exhibiting when he opened his eyes to the bright, technicolor world after seven days of brutal bouts of vomiting and brain splitting headaches.

So yes, Peter Parker didn't get sick. Not after the fateful spiderbite that made him who he was. Even Dr. Banner had been fascinated by his body chemistry, and if he hadn't been lost in his fangirling that the Bruce Banner wanted to do more check ins of his body, he would have noticed that he could, in fact, get sick. His immune system may have significantly increased, but he was still not entirely immune to college kids germs who wore their underwear inside out to save laundry money.

"You look like a zombie." MJ deadpanned in true MJ fashion, pointing her pen, the bright pink plastic fake diamond a brief distraction from the headache pounding in his skull. It made him go squint eyed, inevitably increasing the headache when he saw past the blurry outline of the diamond.

"Thanks Em, appreciate it." He muttered, raising an eyebrow to look at her smirking face. He suddenly remembered about You. You and MJ had the same smile, he noticed, a lump of misery forming in his throat.

His mood dropped even more when he felt his throat burn with a strong sense of nostalgia. You weren't in college with him due to your job as a full time avenger, so sue him that he really fucking missed you. It's not like you never talked, but his head was killing him and he was really touch starved and college just really fucking sucked.

"I'm not being mean, believe it or not, but you look dead on your feet and your girlfriend will kill me if I bring you in more than one piece." She said, her voice softer than it had been before.

"I'm fine MJ, just do the project." He sighed, looking at his course book, trying to catch the sudden onset of magenta and green lights in his vision. Huh, maybe he was having a stroke.

Rubbing his left eye in frustration, he groaned, throwing his textbook across his room, flopping on the college issued bunk bed that he swore was going to give him back issues before his spidey shenanigans could.

"Y/N won't kill you, she respects you too much for that." He said, fiddling with the threads hanging on his sheets, a hand behind his head as he looked at the ceiling. Chills were starting to set in his bones, and it was not just by MJ's scrutinizing stare.

"You're sick." She stated, smirking as he rolled his eyes, rolling over and burying his face in the cool pillow.

"No shit Sherlock." He huffed, sitting up to take in a breath the pillow was restricting, the lump in his throat growing. And before he knew it, hot tears were rolling down his cheeks, a strange choking sound coming from his throat, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment, and the heat of his fever wasn't making it any better.

"I- I miss y/n so much." He sniffed, his words sound clogged with the mucus stuffed in his sinuses and nose. Wiping a hand across his nose, he choked out a sob, burying his face deeper in his pillow.

"Hey, oh man, hey Parker! Oh god please don't cry, shit ok-" MJ rambled, her shuffling making him cry harder as he whined at the contact of her cool palm, "shit you're burning up! Oh man who do I call who do I call? Of course I'm an idiot."

Her mutters were kind of soothing, but he was too embarrassed to admit that as he brought the pillow closer to him, imagining it was you instead of a stuffed cotten pillow, trying to feel your fingers running through his hair as you repeatedly kissed his forehead.

Sniffling, he blinked hard, watching MJ pace as she talked on the phone with someone, his brain too disoriented trying to get the heat to expel from his body to notice who she was talking to. She looked frantic, her palm over her mouth as her muffled words made his eyes droop, and just like that, he was out like light.

~

"Hey, wake up baby, I came bearing gifts." Your soft voice rose him up from his unrestful slumber, groaning as sudden noises bombarded his ears.

He gave a sigh of relief when he felt a familiar pair of headsets on his ears, the noises quietening. He opened his eyes, slowly at first to see a vague silhouette of you, wondering if this was some kind of fevered dream.

You and Peter face timed a lot, but you rarely visited due to the long drives. You had visited just this weekend, so he was surprised to see you here, his head cushioned on your thigh as your fingers ran over his hair.

"Am I dreamin'?" He croacked, a smile forming on his face as he heard you giggle, warmth spreading in his chest as you leaned in to kiss his forehead.

"No dummy, you just have a temperature high enough to burn Satan." You smirked, booping his nose softly.

"That's pretty hot. I'm so hot." He snickered, turning around to dig his nose into your thigh.

"Yeah, you're the hottest. My hot dum dum." You said. Shifting slightly, he heard the rustling of bottles, immideatly knowing those were his super painkillers Dr. Cho had brewed specifically for his metabolism.

"You didn't have to come all over here baby, did you use your suit?" Peter asked, getting up from his position. Wincing, he cracked his neck, groaning as his body reminded him of his current condition. He felt like a giant bruise, slumping next to you as you wrapped your arm around his shoulder.

"You're worth it Petey. I would go wherever you go." You whispered, brushing his curls back. Getting up, you reached for the filled glass you had kept at the bedside, handing it to him along with the pills. He took them gratefully, gulping the pills and the water down at once.

Leaning on your shoulder, he kissed the exposed skin of your shoulder, rubbing his forehead over there as he thanked you silently, a random chill shooting up his spine, making his muscles spasm.

"Where's MJ?" He muttered, looking at you through his lashes.

"Dunno," you muttered back, "said something about not wanting your germs or something."

"Probably just went to room with Harley. She's got a huge fucking crush on him, just won' admit it." Peter said, smirking from his position.

"Really? I didn't notice!" You snickered, rolling over to squish his cheeks.

"Please, I bet he'll ask her out by the end of this semester."

"This semester? I bet that's gonna happen by the end of this month."

"Bet's on then."

Laughing at the crack oh his voice, you pushed him back lightly by his chest, scratching his sweaty scalp as he sighed under your fingers.

"Y/n?" He asked, holding your fingers to his chest.

"Hmm?"

"Thanks for coming so soon."

"Of course I came dummy."

Smiling at his dimpled face, you wiggled a little to fit next to him, wrapping your hand over his chest and throwing your leg over his.

"Y/n?" He asked again.

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

"I love you too."

A/N: this is so self indulgent 😋😋 lol. Leave a comment if you liked it! 💞💞

[spideyspeaches]

Body count ↬ p.p

 A/N: JKKDJHSKJS PETER’S A WHORE LMAO. Also I love writing Tony’s POV wtf.

WC: 1.2k

Summary (Request from anonymous): hey I love your writing so much 😍😍 can you write something where the avengers think peter's a virgin but then ned and him very loudly talk about his body count?

Warnings: mentions of underage alcohol. 

Pairing: College!Peter Parker x Reader

Masterlist 

If someone had told him that highschool Peter would no more be the same Peter in college, Tony Stark would have laughed on their face. 

The mentee son in question was so far the smartest person he had come across, and he prided in showing off his baby faced not son to well known scientists as well as snobby business people, practically shouting at them that the nineteen year old beside him was the future of science. 

When Tony took Peter to galas and charity events, he was to ensure, per Pepper’s orders, that Peter gets as much attention he’s comfortable with, because he was good for Tony’s PR. People liked watching the mentor and mentee interact, said he revealed the soft side of the cold hard Tony Stark. 

And while that might be true, he would have to be blind to see that Peter was usually also the center of attention for cougars who liked to pull at his cheeks and teenage daughters of rich upper class men grope his biceps- which, gross. Leave the kid alone. 

He remembered his own glorious days of pulled cheeks and groped biceps, he was no stranger to that, but this was Peter Parker, the most innocent, wide eyed kid he’d ever met (not that he’s met many children in his life, other than one Harley Keener and those two kids at the restaurant who wanted his autograph.)

So the Avengers kind of just… assumed that he was… well he still wasn’t deflowered. The kid spent his free time fixing up electronic devices for extra money, even if Tony insisted that he could pay Peter in monthly installments, a part of his college program. The kid wouldn’t budge. So he, along with the pardoned ex- rogues, assumed that Peter Parker didn’t have time for frat parties, or any parties at all. 

He even begrudgingly made one of those bluebird accounts to see if Peter had posted anything about sneaking into parties, but he had been squeaky clean most of his freshmen year. Hell, the most drugs Peter might have taken would probably be prescription Adderall. And he still got excited about playing a round of Mario Kart with his female roommate that he hadn’t made a move on. Yet.

(“Mr. Stark, she’s the most beautiful human on earth! And she’s so good at Mario Kart!”

“Uhuh, who’s this ‘she’ you’re talking about?”

“S-she’s my roommate, Y’n.”

“What’s her full name?”

“... Tony, please tell me you’re not doing a background check on her right now.”

“... Guilty”)

So it came off as a surprise to everyone when one particular night of a discreet party (the avengers, Peter, his friend Ted and DJ and You, Y/L L/N, who he refused to believe wasn’t dating his mentee), that you gave a snort, nearly choking on your beer and said;

“God you’re such a slut!” 

Everyone was looking at You as you pointed towards Peter, who was previously engrossed in some conversation with Ned and MJ, before lifting up your hand to show something on your phone. 

Peter was a wide eyed stuttering mess, and Tony and Nat were confused. Sam, Bucky and Clint went back to whatever the fuck they were doing with Thor while Wanda and Vision made goo goo eyes at each other (seriously, they need to get a room, yuck). 

“Oh Peter, did you forget her name again?” You asked, still in the midst of a fit of giggles. MJ was smirking scarily and Ned was trying not to laugh, but ultimately failing. None of them seemed to have noticed the weird stares they were getting from the only braincell(s)/ adults old enough to drink. 

“I always kinda predicted college would bring the whore out of Parker.” MJ piped in, taking a sip off her beer as she made a brief eye contact with Tony and Nat, both of whom shifted uncomfortably. Even Nat was squirming. 

“You never talked to us! The only thing you did was stare at Peter and talk about murder.” Ned said, making MJ shrug and roll her eyes. The kids were tipsy, and May was going to kill Tony if he let her very much underaged boy drink. At least they were under adult supervision. Oh, well, what she doesn’t know won’t kill her (or him). 

“Hey don’t be mean now Ned! This one’s Stephanie btw, you forgot her name while fucking her so she’s shitting on you on twitter now.” You said, casually scrolling through your phone, leaning against Peter’s side to hold yourself from stumbling. 

“Did you just say btw out loud? what’s the point of abbreviating anyway? it still has three syllables!” Peter shrieked, folding his arms to let you bury your face in the crook of his neck, grumbling something that was incomprehensible. 

Tony watched the scene with a slight smirk, giving Natasha a knowing look. 

“Wait Parker isn’t virgin?!” Sam said, suddenly interested in the conversation the baby adults were having. Peter doubled over, nearly choking on his own beer as he looked at Sam with flushed cheeks. Adorable. 

“Like I said, he’s a slut. Don’t ask his body count, it’s surprisingly high for a nerd who could rip people in half and score a hundred in physics the next day.” You piped in, cheeks warm with the alcohol. 

“What do you mean body count? did the kid murder someone?” That was Steve, looking at the conversation with his disappointment eyebrowsTM. He looked flushed too, and Tony definitely wasn’t gaying about the Captain’s biceps. 

“No Cap, it means the number of people he fucked.” Natasha said, calm as ever, watching MJ as she gave her the googly eyes, and You as you gave Peter the googly eyes, and Ned who was giving the entire room the googly eyes. 

“Fucked? Aren’t you guys too young to be... fonduing people?” Steve said, shifting uncomfortably. You barked out a laugh, snorting in an unladylike manner, apologising in between your fits of laughter as you held onto Peter, who was very much flustered due to your hand on his chest.

‘“Fonduing, you hear that Petey?” You said, mouthing an “oh my god”. 

“Can we please stop talking about my “body count” or whatever?” Peter whined, burying his face in your hair, holding you by your waist. 

“No no now we want to know, don’t we Buck?” Sam asked, leaning against the barstool, looking at Bucky who nodded with a deadpan expression. 

“You know, it’s getting late for the old people, I think we should all go to sleep.” Peter urged ushering you away from his side, as he pointed towards the bedrooms. 

“Why are you ashamed, Parker?” Sam smirked, “scared that it isn’t gonna match up to me?” 

“Fuck off dude, it’s not me who has that expired pack of condoms in their drawer, you’re just jealous that’s I’m getting laid and you’re not.” Peter rolled his eyes, ignoring the “oohs” and Sam’s unhinged jaw, walking with his arms around You as you mumbled unintelligible words. The room was suddenly filled with snickers and pats on Sam’s back, collective words of “the kid just told you to kiss his ass” and Ned’s starstruck gaze. 

“That’s my boy.” Tony smirked, sharing a look with a smirking Nat.

[spideyspeaches]

Peter: *grunts* so... tight..

Y/N:... Peter...what are you doing? O.o

Peter: ...what??

Peter: oh this?! This jar of pickles is so tight :/

[spideyspeaches]

Wet dreams ↬ t.h

A/N: This is @allegra-writes​ fault :(  I wrote this in like 10 minutes so bare with me this is not proofread XD

WC: 1.3k+

Warnings: almost swimming pool sex (because I forgot how to write smut XD)

(Minors dni anyway)

Pairing: mob!tom holland x reader

Masterlist || Taglist

Sometimes, living in a mansion hundred times your size got utterly boring, the only form of entertainment being checking on the nearly always vacant rooms, too clean for an unoccupied space, only to be interrupted by a nervous servant as they catch you rearranging the room. 

The life of London's most feared mob boss's girlfriend was extravagant at the least. You had come from a relatively normal family, had nothing to do with the morally ambiguous criminal until you came face to face with him one day, instantly capturing him in your bait. 

Tom might be the boss of a bunch of elite mobsters, but to you, he was just your lovely high maintenance boyfriend who liked to shower you in expensive diamonds and the softest silk money could buy. It was his love language, just like yours was accepting him for who he was and what his family did.

It got too much sometimes, but you remembered that you had chosen this lifestyle for yourself, so the least you could do was let him drag you to parties full of rich people with the champagne and whiskey more expensive than your entire closet back home. 

This was your home now, you reminded yourself, tracing the patterns on the wall with your fingers, letting your feet drag you across the hallways to take you to your most favourite location of the mansion- the outdoor pool. 

It was large, taking up most of the space of your backyard, lit with multiple led lamps, surrounded by grass. It was late at night and Tom wasn't home from his "business" yet, and you were bored, unable to sleep after countless nights of sleeping in a cold, empty bed. 

You knew his job took up a lot of time, but he was supposed to come home today. Just because you knew sometimes he got home late, doesn't mean you didn't worry about his wellbeing. So to distract yourself, you came here tonight, sliding into the cold pool water, shuddering as it slid over your nearly naked chest, small ripples forming as you breathed in deeply, water rising up to your neck. 

Holding on to the edge of the pool, you imagined Tom sliding in next to you, circling his arms around you as he kisses your neck with his delicate lips. You could swear at that moment, you could actually feel his bare chest pressed against your back, grunting as you pushed your hands against the wet tiles, a warm feeling forming in your gut. Closing your eyes, you let the breeze wash over you, shuddering at the difference in temperature, before diving to the deeper side of the pool swim a lap to warm yourself up to the water's temperature. 

Before you knew it, you were surrounded by the deep waters, the world around you muffled deliciously, eyes closing against your will as you resurface the water with a shuddering breath, startling as you saw another person standing in front of you, an angelic aura forming around him due to the lights. 

Giggling with a gasp, you swim towards the edge towards your boyfriend, who was looking at you with an amused grin. 

"How was work honey?" You gasp, straining to get a breath, folding your hands on the tiles as you place your head on them, feet swinging inside the water to keep you afloat, “You’re back early.”

"Isn't it too cold to be swimming? You're going to catch a cold, hun." He said, bending down so that you were face to face, a goofy smile on his face as he kissed you, soft and warm. 

"I was bored, you weren't in bed." You said against his lips, straining to keep afloat as the tiles dug under your ribs, "hmm, why don't you come inside? I missed you." 

"Missed you too darling, missed my darling girl so fucking much."  He whispered, shuddering at his husky voice, and without a thought, you grabbed him by his wrist, chuckling at his yelp as you pulled him into the pool next to you with a splash, scrunching your eyes as the water hit your face. 

You laugh as he emerges from the water, every inch of him as wet as you are at the moment, gasping for a breath as he paddled next to you, his cold Rolex digging against your shoulder as he scooped you up in his arms, throwing you in a fireman's hold with you shrieking. 

"Put me down!" You giggle, yelping when he slapped your ass, making you laugh louder as you tried to kick your way out of the hold. 

"You're mean!" He whined, propping you on the edge with ease, you now a level above him as he smiles at you, his wet suit clinging to his body, his eyebrow raising up to his hairline as you lean to boop his nose.

"Rail me." You joked, smirking as you saw his eyes light up. A flash of a moment and he was pulling you into the pool just like you had some time ago, his strong and practiced arms holding you upright, lips crashing into yours before you could utter a word, moaning against his lips instead. 

Your legs swung as in the pool, your bodies clapping against each other as he slammed you towards the edge, kissing you hard as if hungry, craving for your lips to mold against his. 

His hands found your underwear, snapping the strings against your waist, slipping a finger and tracing circles on your bare skin. Your cold skin was now warm, burning as his hands wandered around your body, catching parts of your skin with his dainty rings. 

"Tommy," you moaned, leaning closer to his neck so you could nibble on his earlobe, the soft, sensitive skin reddening as you continued to suck on it, his hands reaching up to hold the underside of your boobs. 

You didn't even know how you were still afloat and not drowning, the heat of your skin and his clothes too much for you to care in your overstimulated stupor, "You still have your clothes on." 

"Just a moment darling." He grunted, shuffling his arms awkwardly as he tried to shimmy out of his three piece suit, a difficult task, seeing as he was surrounded by water. You watched the water slide against his smooth skin, droplets falling and merging against the ripples. 

"Keep that on." You said, holding his wrist to stop him from removing his Rolex. 

"I might be rich but they don't come for free sweetheart." He said in an amused voice, leaving it be nonetheless, as you pouted, tracing your fingers alongside his jaw and the rest of his face. 

"Shut up and rail me, Holland." 

"Straight to the point eh babygirl?" He smirked, sliding his hands against your thighs as they wrap around his waist, your back hitting the tiles, groaning half in pain, your body a horny piece of mess as he continues to dig his fingers, covering every inch of you with kisses. 

"I told you to rail me, not fuck me." You muttered, clutching his hair in your fist as he went down, looking at you through his lashes. 

"What did you say?" His voice husky, hands suddenly tighter around you as you moaned in anticipation, throwing your head back when his fingers reached your wet patch. Climbing off the pool, you pull him out with you, laying on the grass, blades digging into your skin. 

"Be rough, treat me like you treat your rivals." You said in a breath, chest heaving as you made eye contact with him. He may be a dangerous criminal, but he was a soft lover. 

But fuck if you didn't miss his fiery touch, and fuck if you were going to let go of the opportunity. You were alone in a mansion, the moonlight illuminating your faces along with the artificial lights. 

And who was he to deny his pretty girl, when she was practically begging him to wreck her?  

[spideyspeaches]

Play ‘em (like a violin)↬ p.p

AN: The anon who requested this... your mind 😌😌 beta read by the amazing @portraitoforion​ 🥰🥰🥰 (seriously she’s the best, go check out her stuff)

Requests are CLOSED 

Warnings: needles (mentioned), your normal villain shit, hot peter parker, you’ll get the sweats (probably lmao), alcohol.

WC: 2.6k+

Request (summary):  if you’re looking for something more eventful, you could do some sort of intense interrogation thing where one sits the other down and tries to get information out of them but they’re being stubborn so they have to resort to other methods

Pairing: Peter Parker x Villain!Reader

Masterlist || Taglist 

“Why do I have to go in?” Peter groaned, tossing his head back at the older men behind him. Tony and Rhodey gazed back at him, twin expressions of pity and deadpan on their faces, as if it was their fault he was about to interrogate a criminal responsible for many death crimes. Which, in his defense, it was. 

Peter hadn’t been working with SHIELD for long. He had signed with the accords once he turned eighteen. Tony collaborated with DODC and the lawyers of Hell’s Kitchen to ensure that the amendments were safe for enhanced individuals, in hopes of sorting out the mess that was the raft and Ross’ resignation. 

For the most part, Peter liked to stay behind the scenes when he wasn’t playing Spider-man, and today was one of those days. He hadn’t been to too many interrogations, but for the ones he could recall - usually with him lingering behind Natasha as she had some war criminal by the neck - they were messy. 

So, so messy. 

“What makes you think that I’ll be able to get something out of her?” Peter groaned. Another agent had come out of the room where you were, decidedly pissed at his failure.

He looked at you through the pane. You sat stoically, one leg swung over the other, your feet perched up on the table. Your hands were uncuffed and folded under your chest. He could see the vibranium band on your wrist, red and green lights blinking as you smirked at him.

Or at least he assumed you were, you couldn’t see what was going on outside due to the one-way glass. And yet, he felt a shiver travel down his spine as you straightened up, rising from the metal chair to stroll toward the glass. 

He was sure those lips of yours would be embedded into his brain, permanently, like a tattoo that he couldn’t remove - even if he wanted to. 

“She keeps saying she won’t talk unless it’s you.” Rhodey said, shrugging. Like it was that simple. “Think she’s got the hots for you.”

Peter opened his mouth to say something, quickly fixing the colonel with a sharp glare. You were a criminal. He had to keep his head straight. And yet, he couldn’t help but regard Rhodey’s words as his eyes lingered a little longer, tracing the sway of your hips and legs that he would love to spread under his fingers, heat rising up his cheeks as your grin broadened. He was sure you could see him, because there was no way you could have such a good estimate of his position from a non look through glass.

For a SHIELD base, this one sure seemed to be faulty. 

“Colonel Rhodes, she’s a criminal! If your clearly subpar interrogation techniques didn’t work, what makes you think she would answer me? That she’ll comply with my requests?” He asked, crossing his arms defensively. 

“Look kid, I know a lie when I see one. I don’t think she’s lying this time.”  Rhodey said, desperation evident in his tone. “And Fury will have our asses if we don’t know the exact location of the weapon by dawn tomorrow. So please, go in. We trust you, Parker.” 

Nodding, he stiffened his shoulders, breathing deeply before he looked at the older men. 

“What if… what if I don’t succeed?” Peter gulped, looking at them with his big brown eyes that even melted the coldest of hearts.

“Then you tried your best kid, and we’ll be proud of you anyway.” Tony spoke, brows furrowed, before pulling him into a side hug. 

Giving one last nod to his father-figure/mentor and, basically, uncle, he squared his shoulders and walked into the room, determination seeping through his pores.

"They finally sent you huh, pretty boy?" You bit your lip as you diligently sat on the chair, fingers intertwining into a fist in front of you, checking your cuticles as if they were the only thing in the room worth your interest,”Took them long enough.”

You feigned innocence on your features, eyes wide and lips parted, but, heck, if Peter was going to fall for it. He kept reminding himself why he was here. 

Ask questions. Attend the briefing. Go back home to Ned and Gwen. Maybe meet Michelle in the Indian coffee house near Brooklyn, too. 

No hassles. Easy right? 

Easier said than done. He was already sweating in places he shouldn't be, and he hadn't even said a word, yet your piercing gaze had him swallowing bile down his throat, his insides twisting and burning. This was more difficult than he thought it would be.

He had been crime fighting since he was fourteen, but never had he been so intimidated by a criminal before. But then again, you were an international criminal, so he figured he was right to be scared.

Right?

Gulping, he sat down on the chair, clearing his throat loudly, wincing as the noise echoed in the small cubicle, “Don’t call me that.” He muttered, clearing his throat again as it clogged up when you leaned closer, eyes squinting to look directly into yours. 

“What did you say?” You tilted your head. It was adorable, the way he walked around eggshells near you. Ever since you had seen him on-screen during one of your many missions, you had wanted to, to put it simply, fuck him. 

“D-don’t call me that, pretty boy. don’t call me.” He spoke, inhaling as you crept closer. Your movements were stealthy, a cat ready to pounce, inching nearer and nearer, towering over him as he looked at you from his position on the chair. He really wished you were cuffed up right now. 

Something about your presence made his blood run cold, rushing down south at a rapid rate as his heart pounded in his chest. He felt dizzy, sweat pooling on his forehead. He really hoped he wouldn’t blow this off just because he nearly had a boner for an attractive criminal. He wasn’t about to disappoint Tony. He could do this. He wasn’t going to be intimidated by some pretty face he was supposed to be interrogating, not the other way round.

Yet here he was, in awe by your presence, shivering like a damn fool when he was supposed to be gathering intel. Gosh, he really needed a drink. Tony owed him one.

“You’re gonna have to speak louder if you want me to tell you anything here, spider-boy.” You quipped, grinning ear-to-ear like a devil. “Tick.Tick.The location of the lab isn’t gonna reveal itself. Just sitting there, all those chemicals aching to... blow.”

Your lips split open into an O at the last word, and Peter’s gaze flickered to your lips once, twice before locking onto your gaze. 

“Why are you so willing to tell me everything. Is this a game to you? A money heist and not a ticking time bomb that could harm millions of civilians, innocent people?” Peter said finally, biting the bullet as he met your eyes for the first time. 

He saw you squint again, bringing a finger to your chin as you pretended to think. Heat rose inside Peter at your arrogant attitude, blood boiling at how casual you were being right now. And bratty too. 

“You’re not like the others.” You said flatly, plopping down on the chair with a pout adorning your face. 

“What do you mean not like the others?” 

“Usually when people interrogate me, they're too busy staring at me or my tits. They don’t call me a seductress for no reason you know.” You stretch your hands across the table so that they reach Peter’s. “But you don’t seem deterred at all by my presence. Are you gay, or something?” 

Peter sputtered at your deduction, retracting his hands to ignore the surge of electricity that your touch brought, “w-what? No! I’m- I’m not gay. Well yeah, I’ve dated men before but- stop distracting me!” 

“You’re doing it to yourself Spidey, I just asked you a simple question. I know how to read expressions on men, I’ve done it my whole life. Why can’t I read yours? Aside from the nervousness, you seem completely unbothered by my presence.” 

“Maybe you’re as good as you think.” 

“That’s not true!” You barked, teeth baring. 

“Apparently it is. And we’re not here to discuss my facial expressions anyway. Where is the weapon?” He asked, finally calming down from the surge of adrenaline in his veins. 

“What exactly am I gonna get if I tell you? I owe you nothing.” You hissed, eyes as wild as your posture. 

“Listen, you’re a criminal, so you’re going to prison one way or another. You either tell me the location, we let you go, and you’ll go to a maximum-security prison in Quantico - safe and sound - or we do this the hard way.” He said slowly, pointing at the window that covered half the wall. “Outside that window? The world’s most dangerous people are standing, not even six feet away. So the choice is yours really, how much blood are you willing to shed?”

“You’ll have to do more than just threaten to sic the world’s mightiest heroes on me, baby boy.” You smirked. You were well aware of the threats lingering on your head, and even the attractive man sitting in front of you couldn’t make you care less about your safety. 

Peter wasn’t an impatient person. All his life, he was known for his unnervingly calm personality. But something about this rapidly heating up and seemingly fruitless situation irked him, he felt like he was on the end of his nerves, desperate for the results that he pushed the table with his bare hands, super strength causing it to scrape against the floor harshly, making you stumble. 

Swiftly getting up from the chair with a loud screech, he wrapped his hands around your neck, twisting your hand behind your back and smacking you face-first on the table.

The sudden change of atmosphere startled you, your breathless wheezes sounding like harsh whispers against his skin. You had successfully riled him up, crawling underneath his skin with a grin that could rival Lucifer’s. 

“Didn’t know you were so desperate to get me under you spidey.” You grinned, licking your lips as you twisted your neck to watch his livid expression, whimpering when he thrusted you forward, the pain of your twisted hand clouding your mind and your judgment.

“I’ll ask you one more time. Where is it?” He hissed in your ear, the hiss of a hypodermic needle appearing in his hands startling you, eyes widening. Real fear crept up your spine, mouth wobbling at the possibility of being drugged.

“I don’t know! I don’t know I swear, I’m just the messen-”

“Stop lying!” 

“You don’t want to do this Peter.” You said desperately, looking at him with fearful eyes, but he didn’t budge. His hold on you was tight, rendering you immobile and useless underneath him. 

“That’s not for you to decide.” He growled, holding the needle dangerously close to your neck. 

“I’m serious Peter. You don’t want to become like them, do you? Don’t let them turn you into another one of their robots.” You said, cowering as your chest heaved, heart pounding in your ears harshly. 

“You can’t trick me anymore.” He gasped, thrusting the needle near you. You scrunch your eyes, waiting for the pain and the fading view to come, but none of that happened. You gasped, sweat staining your eyelids as you saw the needle embedded in the table next to you, cracking at the edges. “Tell me the damn location!” 

“I don’t know the-”

“Stop lying! Just tell me!” 

“Tucson! Tucson, Arizona! 1516 E, 20th street, Southern Arizona Laboratories.” You cried out, grunting as he released your palms. You internally kicked yourself for giving in so easily. It was fun, playing with him, but your attempts at seducing him were fruitless. 

He looked stoic, so different than when he had come in that it grated your nerves. Next thing you knew, he was leaning into your ear, dragging his hands up to your elbows and squeezing the joint, “good girl.” He whispered, making you shudder.

Standing up, he walked towards the door, his movements brisk. Gasping for a breath, he leaned against the closed door, closing his eyes as he rubbed his temples to abate the sudden tension in them. 

“Never ask me to do that again.” He gasped, looking at Rhodey and Tony’s smirking faces. 

“It’s okay kid. You did good.” Tony smiled, ruffling his sweaty curls and pulling him for a second hug of that day. “We owe you a drink.”

“Got that right.” He huffed, shaking his head. 

The briefing was one of the most awkward briefings Peter had ever done, now that he remembered the events clearly in his mind. He tried to shake off the thoughts about you, your grin and how you looked pretty under him, the things he could do to you, all while looking straight at Nick Fury’s scrutinizing eye.

“Whoa slow down, tiger! We don’t need to empty the entire bar in a day, not even with your freakishly fast metabolism,” Tony said, coming behind him to take the glass of whiskey which he was about to drown. 

The downside of his metabolism other than the constant hunger was that he hardly got drunk. But today, with you invading his thoughts, the burn of a glass of whiskey was enough to get him drunk. 

“What are you thinking about?” Tony asked quietly, pouring himself one too. 

“About how I could do much better in life, you know, stuff other than interrogating criminals,” Peter said, giving him a deadpan stare that he had mastered from years of knowing Michelle. 

Tony gave a laugh, huffing at him when he saw that Peter was being serious. “Sure kid. But you chose this life, didn’t you?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I did.” 

And that was it. That night, Peter dreamt of you, your intoxicating scent taking over his nostrils like an animal hunting down its prey. 

Getting up from his bed, he scoured the hallways barefoot, clutching his wrist nervously, a habit he had unconsciously picked from Tony, and walked towards the elevator. 

Just a few floors below the penthouse was the interrogation room, and then the isolation room. Just a few floors below, you were there, chained up and probably dozing off peacefully, not knowing what was about to come your way. 

“FRIDAY, take me to basement six will you?” Peter said. 

“Authorisation denied.”

“What?”

“You will need permission to go down Peter.” 

“Fuck.” He muttered, eyes widening when he realized that he could maybe use his employee badge. It had the highest security level since he lived in the penthouse occasionally. Running to get the badge, he quickly scanned the RF-ID, sighing in relief when the elevator moved. 

“Would you like some music, Mr. Parker?”

“No thanks, FRIDAY. It’s an elevator ride.” 

Walking through the hallway was more intimidating than he had thought. Looking around the blank walls and guards roaming around, he tiptoed his way through the cells before finally stopping at yours. 

He felt his heart race when he saw your slumped figure behind the glass walls, making sure no guard was in his vicinity, scanning his badge to open your door with a hiss. You were wearing light blue prison overalls, thrashing and turning at the hissing sounds of the doors, arousing you from your unrestful slumber. 

“Y/n, hey wake up! Hey, hey don’t panic it’s just me- be quiet. Don’t want them to hear, do you?” Peter said, towering over you. You watched with your mouth hung open as he held a finger to his lips, excitement brewing in your tummy in a tight coil. 

“I thought you never wanted to see me again.” You said, biting your lips as he moved closer. 

“Looks like you’re not the only liar in this house.” 

A/N: Lemme know your thoughts!! <3

[spideyspeaches]

Heart made of glass ↬ t.h

A/N: Beta read by the lovely @hollandcrush​ !! <3<3

Request (Summary): can you please write one about Tom, who is on the filming process of cherry and has some emotional problems because he feels that his character is already part of his life, so he comes home very angry and in a bad mood, so he just snaps and creates a big fight with the reader and just says things that he obviously didn't meant, you know very angst, and at the end just very fluff.

Hope you like this anon! Lemme know your thoughts heh <3<3

Warnings: breakdowns, slight vomiting but it’s not graphic. I’m not in any way romanticizing or sexualising breakdowns. 

WC: 2k+ 

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

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Tom was an ambitious guy. He took his roles seriously, no matter what his character was and who he played. It was an admirable trait, the way he both enjoyed his work and worked hard to earn a high place in such a place as Hollywood. 

You always took pride in how amazing and accomplished your boyfriend was, your heart swelling whenever you heard his name being mentioned in events and interviews. You enjoyed how he tried to diversify the movies he worked in. 

("I've been playing the friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man for so long, it's about time I play someone different now." He once said in a Jimmy Kimmel interview. You were watching from the audience, smiling as the audience roared in affirmation. 

"Well looks like you took quite a big leap from playing a superhero." Jimmy said, smiling at the audience with his paparazzi smile. 

You knew the question was scripted, quite harmless, but you still noticed how his shoulder stiffened, his smile not wavering once. 

"Well yeah, I used to be a superhero and now I'm a heroin addict." He joked, winking at the audience as he ran a hand through his nearly hairless head.

He cried himself to sleep that night, burying his face in your chest as you shushed him. )

It always worked in his favour, with the incredible support his family and fan base provided. And he was always so humble about it. 

Filming Cherry, however, was way different than he thought it would. With filming Cherry came consequences that he didn't necessarily like. He knew what he was bringing on himself and his family when he was first introduced with the script.

(Contrary to popular belief, he didn't actually give out spoilers, it was just small promotional stunts that kind of took over as his reputation to spoil minor details.)  

The process was intense, getting into the mindset of "Cherry" was taxing, and people were beginning to notice it in him. He was more restless, tugging at his non existent curls when he thought no one would notice. 

He was more clingy, more appreciative of your body and you, letting you know that there was no sexual intent behind his acts of caressing your waist at random times. You didn't notice the change in his behaviour. 

He had always been like this, watching you with the most gratifying gaze a man could muster, his pretty brown eyes like globes of whiskey, staring at you with a muffled expression. You didn't notice. 

There had always been a cutting edge to his voice, you knew and adored it. Behind the British actor who played Spider-Man, he was your Tom. Your Tom who gave you forehead kisses and baked cakes with you and made silly playlists that reminded him of you and you of him, your Tom who worshiped the ground you walked on, your Tom, your Tom and your Tom.

(Sometimes you envied that he was an actor, so good at hiding any emotions he felt, it came easy to him, just another fake emotion like he was a face behind the camera.)

He was never aggressive towards you. Never. Even on tough days, he was soft, caring and understanding to the point where it made you mad, immediately making you feel guilty. He worked so hard and yet here you were, blaming him for being nice, never standing up for himself.

"Uh, Tom, Tom stop, wait." You grunted, pushing his shoulders as he scrambled away from you at your discontent. 

You held his face, his breath hitching, hyperventilating as he tried to get himself together. 

Ever since he had started filming Cherry, he had been away from you. And now that you were finally here, he had been all over you, making love to every inch of your skin, like it was a holy grail he had to find, caressing your warm skin under his fingers making you shiver as his nimble fingers wandered. It was the intimacy, sexual and quasi-sexual, that made you realise, that there was something wrong.

Sex- it had been a constant in your life other than Tom. But of course, you didn't live on it. It was but a fuel that strengthened your relationship, it was about discovery and showing your vulnerable sides. It was a reminder of the coffee dates and baseball matches. It was loving, gentle and raw, like a gentle breeze caressing your face.

But this, this was different. And you noticed. This, what you had been doing, it was fucking. It was aggressive and needy and it felt good, but at the same time, it felt different.

"Baby?" You asked softly, trying to meet his eyes in the dark lit trailer. It was late, way past filming times, the only time you got to see his vulnerable side. 

You should have been in his hotel room, but you were in his trailer instead. All alone in the all encompassing darkness, it made your heart stutter beats. 

"Baby speak to me. What's happening, who's doing this to you?" You ask once again, holding onto him firmly this time, his squirming frame making you loosen your hold. You didn't care that you were naked, he had already seen it all. 

Fiddling with the rough sheets, he huffed a heavy breath. And that was all it took for the dam to break. 

"Tell me how do you feel baby, you're starting to scare me." You urged. All you got in response was his muffled sobs. Pulling him forward, you let his head rest on your bare chest, rivulets of tears sliding down your warm skin, almost burning you like acid, his tiny hair tickling you, a very contrasting feeling. 

"I can't do it. I can't take it anymore." He sniffed, wrapping his strong arms around you, shivering at the contact. It was a cold night in Cleveland, and you were naked and he was crying. You were berating yourself for not noticing. 

"What can't you take anymore?" You hold him, tracing circles on his buzz cut hair, just the way you did when he had his curls. 

"I feel like I'm becoming him. I don't like it at all, I try and try but I can't." He sobs, shoulders hitching with each sob. You felt your heart break, the sounds of his cries sending daggers into your skin. 

How could you have not noticed? The lively sunshine of a man was almost an empty shell. The interviews with former drug addicts had been excruciating for you, pity, disgust, sympathy and every other sinful emotion swirling in your mind. 

You couldn't believe that you hadn't thought about Tom, of what an effect it would have on him. 

"Bub, listen to me, carefully," you said, shushing him as he continued to look at you, teary eyed and red nosed, snot dripping out of his nose,"you listen to me. You're strong and resilient and nothing like him okay? He's not you. You're Tom Holland. You're brilliant and brave and amazing okay?" 

"But I don't feel that way!" He said, his aggressive stance surprising you, "he's- he's…" 

"He's what?" You asked, a little too impatient. Muttering a sorry, you rub your palm on his cheek, kissing the soft, moist skin.

"I don't feel so good." He croaked, getting up suddenly, making a run for the washroom. You rushed after him, watching him as he heaved into the toilet. Rubbing his back, you muttered affirmations, curling besides him as he sat on the ground, his back to the cold wall. 

You got up to switch on the lights, feeling his hands tugging yours, a soft "stay" coming out of him. 

"Better?" You asked, feeling him now against your collarbone. 

"I shouldn't be this affected, this- this isn't fair. I'm overreacting, I'm sorry I worried you baby I swear I didn't mean to-" 

"Shh, Tom first of all, you're not overreacting okay?" You smiled, kissing his nose, moving towards his brows and his forehead, "It's perfectly reasonable. The role you're playing...It's not exactly picking daisies. Fuck you're playing a heroin addict Tommy, a broken soldier with PTSD, a breakdown was inevitable. It only shows that you're human." 

"Really?" He smiled, it looked more like a grimace, a plea for reassurance. 

"Yes, really." You said, booping his nose, eliciting a giggle from him,"now, you better go to bed mister, you have an early shoot don't you?" You playfully scolded, kissing his lips, laughing as he carried you bridal style. 

"Tomorrow will be better." You whispered, kissing his eyelids, already closed, chest moving rhythmically as you counted his pulse, making sure he was completely asleep before slipping on your clothes, covering him with the thin quilt. 

***

"Is everything okay on set?" You asked casually, watching the crewmates work tirelessly in the daylight. 

You were standing next to Ciara on a prop jeep, fiddling with the water bottle held in your hand. 

"Hmm, as okay it can be with two people playing drug addicts." She shrugged, looking at you with a small smile. 

"Are you okay?" You asked, turning to give her your full attention, remembering your boyfriend's breakdown yesterday. 

"It gets… intense at times. Some scenes are hard to play, but we're okay. Mostly." She answered, taking your water bottle and chugging the water. 

"I'm not a therapist, but you can talk to me, you know?" You smiled, holding her shoulder as she gave you a bashful smile. 

"It's been tough on Tom. He's more aggressive, nearly had a breakdown during a scene." She said. 

"Yeah, that.. that happened yesterday too." 

"It was time, a person can only hold so much right?" 

"Yeah." 

You pondered her words, wondering if you could do anything to curb this. 

"I think I need help." He said one day while you were eating dinner. Harry, who was sitting next to you, looked up from his plate, giving you a knowing look before clearing his throat. 

"I'm gonna get some water." He said, waving awkwardly at you and getting up. You took that as a cue to scoot closer to Tom, running your hands through his camel hair. 

"That's very brave of you hun, asking for help." You smiled, kissing his cheek softly. You felt him smile, sliding closer to you, holding you by your waist. 

"I learnt from the best." He muttered in your hair, kissing your forehead. 

You felt his love that day, felt the way he ran his smooth fingers on your waistline, sliding across your thighs with care and softness you hadn't felt in a while. He was healing. It was a process, it took time but it happened.

***

You were walking across the library, his hand in yours, your hearts beating in silence. 

"How was your appointment?" You asked, shivering in the cold air. You rubbed your palms together, bringing your jacket closer to your chest, huffing the cold air. 

"It was good, much different from what the media portrays. She even showed me this meme she thinks you would like, look." He said, bringing out his phone to show you the saved meme. 

You laughed at his eagerness, kissing his lips as a final gratification. 

"Well it looks like you're having a great time. You have another scene left to do today in the evening so we better scram." You reminded him. 

You always did that, remind him of his schedule, reminded him to take a breath when he felt like he was drowning. You reminded him of home and what he had to look forward to.

"Why can't we have a lazy day today?" He whined, kissing your neck, making you giggle as it tickled. 

"You know you can't do that hun, you already took three days off." You snickered, poking his sides. 

"Well that sucks. I just want to spend my day with my girl, is that too much to ask?" He smiled, kissing your forehead, one hand holding yours, swinging back and forth, the other holding a large cup of coffee in a tight grip. 

You reached to loosen his fingers, taking a sip, slurping loudly, making him laugh. You decided you liked this laugh much better, it was breathy and free, a melody to your ears. 

You noticed how he was more relaxed and back to being that ray of sunshine. Back to being your Tom.

Thanks for reading! also as a side note- here’s a similar fic @itsallyscorner​ !!