Looking At These Pictures Has Unlocked Some Long Dead Emotion In Me I Feel Like Im Having An Out Of Body

❀ welcome home ❀

if this don’t show up in the tags idk what i’m gonna do istg 🧍🏽‍♀️pls lmk if it shows up for you :(

warnings: a lil suggestiveness but overall fluff

word count: 1.2k

send some prompts for flufftober!!

after almost an entire summer abroad, there’s no better feeling—at least for tom—than that of an empty airport at three in the morning. silence lies heavy around him, interrupted only by the occasional announcement, the clacking of suitcases rolling against the floor, and the whirring of baggage carousels turning on and off.

the feeling of utter peace and relaxation that hits tom whenever he finally comes back home becomes stronger, more overwhelming, when his phone tings loudly in his ear, where one airpod sits. he knows before he’s even pulled the device out of his jumper’s pocket that it’s you, an excited tingle spreading in his chest.

i’m in the waiting area :’)

five simple words, one endearing emoticon, and his heart feels like it’s about to burst right out of him as though it’s a rocket surging into take-off. gripping the handle of his carry-on tightly, tom shoves the phone back in his pocket and looks around him with as much enthusiasm as a dog following the scent of a feast, eyes urgently searching for the right arrows to lead him out of baggage claim and to you.

mere minutes later, he’s finally outside, breath hitching in his throat when he spots the ever so familiar yellow nirvana shirt you can’t stop “borrowing.” grin widening under his black cotton mask, tom bites his bottom lip to temper it as he hurries towards you, but it only widens when you look up from your phone at the sound of his rapidly approaching footsteps and he notices the way your mask stretches across your cheeks the same way his does.

finally within arm’s reach, tom doesn’t even utter a word. his hands find your waist with oft practiced ease, and they bring you into his chest perfectly, your head nuzzling into the crook of his neck, skin visible under his tee, clicking into him like a puzzle piece. your facemask scratches his throat, but he couldn’t care less, not when he at last feels your palms again his back, when he smells faint hints of your shampoo, when he squeezes you in his arms and you squeeze him right back.

“missed you,” he whispers, fingers splayed over your back like it’s an anchor.

“missed you more, tommy.” you grin, happiness hiding in the fabric of his blue and white jumper. pulling apart ever so lightly, you look up at him, all the knots in your stomach unravelling at the sight of his pretty brown eyes. you raise a hand up to his hair, twirling a few strands around your finger. “and i missed these curls, too,” you coo, “why have you been depriving me of these babies with your cursed gel?”

snorting happily, tom scrunches his nose and leans his head into your hands. “why are you speaking like the villain dude from aladdin?”

“you forgot jaffar’s name,” you gasp, looking at him with teasing shock, “we need a rewatch stat. come on, let’s get out of here so i can educate you on a land from a faraway place where the caravan camels roam.”

both of you think your smiles couldn’t get any bigger under your masks, and you run your thumb along the crinkles beside his right eye, longing so clear in your own gaze that tom’s got half a mind of ripping the cloth off your face and kissing you right in the middle of heathrow.

“let’s go, i don’t know how i’m going to wait to kiss you for an entire half hour.” he grumbles, an immense weight lifting off his chest as he intertwines your fingers and sets off towards the exit, carry-on rolling behind him.

mumbling to him that he can still kiss you in the car and that he doesn’t have to wait until you’re actually at your house to do it, you snort as tom shoots you his classic annoyed look. he snips back that it’s not a proper welcome home kiss unless we’re home, y/n and pretends to pout for much of the car ride, his grimace melting into laughter when you decide to pout back but can’t help yourself from wiggling along to the radio in your seat.

once you’re finally unlocking the door and tom sets his luggage down, he turns towards you with a big grin, one you can actually see clearly without his mask acting as a shield. for a moment, you’re tempted to let go of your teasing streak and let him get his way, until you’re reminded—nah, being a little shit would be more fun for you. as your boyfriend advances towards you, honeyed eyes soft with the promise of an impending smooch and many cuddles, you give him your best exaggerated wink.

and then you sprint.

“what the fuck?” tom yells, watching you with bewilderment as you run up the stairs towards your bedroom. “i can’t believe i flew eight hours for this crazy woman,” he mutters to himself, though a spark of adrenaline lights up in his chest.

soon enough, his socked feet are sliding against the hardwood floor as he chases after you, only for his eyebrows to furrow when he hears the sound of water from the master bathroom. oh. oh.

you’ve left the door unlocked and the window hasn’t fogged yet, giving tom a clear view of you. a very wet you. a very wet and naked you giving him a teasing smile, beckoning him over with your index after months of being apart. he nearly trips over his pants multiple times as he undresses, your giggles at his clumsiness and enthusiasm heard over the shower, before he’s finally bare enough to join you.

“you could’ve just told me you wanted to shower, instead of making me chase you around the house.” tom can’t help but be jokingly curt as he steps under the hot water, instantly starting to soothe his muscles after seemingly endless travels.

your arms slither around his waist, bringing him closer until your chests are pressed together, and he sighs under your touch. with the water running down your face, you reach up, cradling his cheek in the palm of your hand. “but wasn’t it more fun to surprise you? it sure looked like it was exciting for you when you banged your head on the sink trying to get undressed.”

“oh, shut up and kiss me.” tom rolls his eyes, his own arms coming around you as you snort, leaning up to finally connect your mouths.

tom’s lips are chapped from the cold and because he always forgets to drink enough water, but it doesn’t matter, not when it’s your first time tasting them after such a strenuous deprivation. your fingers burrow in his wet curls as tom’s tongue licks along your bottom lip before it slips along your own, a gentle whimper resounding from both of you at the contact.

you break away after a long moment, eyes fluttering open to see your love’s are still closed, lashes brushing the freckled apples of his cheeks. “there,” you whisper, dropping a faint peck on the tip of his nose, “weclome home, tommy.”

about me.

⤏ i (she/her)

⤏ 19

⤏ currently listening to the driver era, doja cat, & kid cudi

⤏ i like writing (duh), singing, & interacting w y'all

⤏ peter parker is my comfort character (& the loml)

⤏ i write for tom holland, mcu! & tasm! peter parker, arvin russell, & sometimes joshua bassett

⤏ i also write for timothée chalamet <3

⤏ this is my first blog! so take it easy on me if i ever look stupid lol

cuteee🥺

Hi, could you maybe do something where Peter finds out that the reader thinks she's ugly and he just doesn't believe her because he has such a huge crush on her? I love your work

thank you! This is a bit of a mess and so random? Whskshsjshsns

Okay say it with me. “I am hot.” Thank you for coming to my ted talk- okay but also, “My looks are the least interesting thing about me.” Okay now you can go on mwah

But pls you do not need any man to think you’re hot for you to actually be hot. buuuuut i guess Peter can give you a little nudge in the right direction <3 because I know you're hot and you deserve to see it too

warnings: idk well insecure!reader (but she doesn’t wanna admit that she cares about how she looks) lmao?, the reader calling herself ug*y and believing it :(

-

You and Peter are watching some old trashy comedy. It’s a cold Friday afternoon and you didn’t know what else to do.

Currently, in typical 2000s fashion, the conventionally un-attractive character is being made fun of.

“Oh he’s like me,” with a smile, you point at the guy on screen, pausing it for a second.

“In what way?” Peter asks, confusion painted across his face.

“Ugly,” you simply say.

Peter laughs and you press play again.

He looks over at you and realises you’re not laughing. He pauses the film, “Wait. Was that a joke?”

“You’ve seen my face, right?”

“I have. And it’s not ugly at all.”

You roll your eyes, “You don’t have to say that, I wasn’t fishing for compliments, I was just... joking.”

“So saying you’re ugly was a joke? Right?”

“No but.. just forget it,” you sigh at Peter misinterpreting your words. You were simply acknowledging a similarity with a character, not trying to make him think you were looking for compliments.

You press the space key to start the film again but Peter presses it again to stop it.

“No you... you think you’re ugly?”

“Yeah,” you shrug, “But it’s fine. Don’t worry. I’m not defined by my looks. I’m smart, I’m funny, I’m kind, that’s all way more important.”

“Yeah it is, of course it is. But do you think I talked to you first day of college because I thought you were going to be smart and funny and kind?”

“I don’t know, I do think I look approachable,” you frown. You were under the impression you looked nice and friendly.

“Yes, you’re approachable because you’re beautiful. Well, intimidatingly beautiful, but I’ve always been an optimistic guy.”

“I don’t really know where this is going.”

“I just can’t believe you think you’re ug— I don’t even want to say that.”

“I promise I wasn’t fishing for—“

“I know you weren’t. Look, I don’t want to make things awkward between us two but I can’t stand that you think you’re anything other than extremely attractive.

“I’ve had a crush on you since the first time I saw you. And yes, you’re kind and intelligent and funny and that has all made me even more attracted to you but I came up to you and talked to you because I thought you were hot. And I still think you’re hot, you become hotter every time you say something, except for that one word right now, or every time look at me.”

You let his words sink in and look away, “Oh,” you can’t help but smile a little, “Well... thanks.”

“You don’t believe me,” Peter states, sitting up now.

“I do it’s just... surprising. That someone I like would also likes me back even though I’m so ug—”

“Don’t say that about yourself. If you say negative things about yourself you’ll start believing it. Even if it starts as a joke, your subconscious can’t tell the difference. Please, at least stop calling yourself that.

“I mean I know you don’t need me telling you that you’re beautiful, we all have our insecurities and I don’t want to tell you what to feel but... I can’t believe you’re questioning my taste in women.”

“What do you mean?” you pull your eyebrows together, still trying to believe that he actually likes you.

“I like the hottest woman I’ve ever seen, and you’re calling her this negative word. It’s insulting,” he says it with a look that lets you know he’s not really thinking about how this is making him feel. He cares about how you feel.

You try to hide your growing smile but you can’t, “Sorry to burst your bubble but she’s not as hot as you seem to think—“

He interrupts you by (gently) grabbing your face, his fingers on your jaw, thumb by your chin and he angles your face so you’re looking him straight in the eyes. “Please. Don’t talk about her like that. Don’t talk about yourself like that.”

You’re silent for a moment, not knowing what to say so you decide to keep up your act, “Aw. Does that hurt your feelings?”

“Yes, actually. I know looks aren’t everything. And if you don’t care about how you look that’s okay. But we can’t have you walking around thinking you’re unattractive.”

You still don’t agree with him, but you can’t think straight when he’s so close, his hand still on your face. You catch him looking at your lips and you realise your own eyes wandering down to look at his.

You lean up and give him a short kiss.

“I guess I...” you pull away, “I’m cute,” you make a face right after, “No, that still doesn’t sound right.”

He licks his lips and you see he’s still processing that you just kissed him and suddenly you can’t tell if it’s good or bad.

“Sorry,” you say.

“For what?” He smiles.

“Kissing you.”

“I just told you I like you. You just fulfilled a wish I’ve had for months. I don’t know why you’re apologising.”

“Okay. I like you too by the way.” You said it earlier but you think he was too busy calling you hot to properly realise.

He grins and this time you let yourself smile too, but you suddenly feel shy and can’t look at him anymore.

“Should we uh...” your finger is already resting on your keyboard, about to press play.

“Yeah just.. I don’t want to overstep or anything. I know some people don’t care about how they look and it’s okay if you don’t agree with me about being the hottest woman I know, and don’t get me wrong you’re so much more than just hot.

“And I’d still like you even if you weren’t as attractive because you have an amazing personality and that’s what matters. It’s okay if you’re neutral about the way you look, but actively saying those negative things about you can’t be good for your self esteem. I’m not trying to tell you what to do, I just don’t want you to suffer.”

“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t let a man tell me what to do anyway,” you grin, rolling your eyes, “I know you have good intentions.”

“Yeah,” he says, thinking while silence settles between you for a bit.

“I don’t have to bring it up anymore because I don’t want you to think that that’s all I care about. You might not agree but I think you’re beautiful. I’m not saying it matters greatly but it’s simply a fact to me that I like how you look.”

“God, if you keep saying that I look good I might start believing it.”

The crinkles return to his eyes as he smiles again, “I might let it slip once or twice a day then. Or an hour. You’re hot. Oops, sorry.”

You giggle, lightly slapping his arm “Stop.”

“I bet you’ve never seen how pretty you look when you smile like that. And I bet you’d agree with me if you could see.”

Your eyes find his, “C’mere.” You take his chin between your fingers and kiss him again, letting your lips linger on his for a bit while your heart beats wildly in your chest. “Thank you,” you say, noticing how you feel better after Peter’s motivating words.

“I think you’re quite cute too by the way,” you tell him.

“Too?” He teases, “So you’re starting to see what I’m talking about huh?”

“Shut up,” you laugh, slapping his chest this time. You happen to look into the mirror across your room and see your own smile. “Maybe I am”, you whisper.

Peter holds your hand as you finally watch the film and you can’t help but replay Peter’s words in your head every time you smile. You’re already starting to feel a little bit better about yourself.

if i had a dollar for every time they paused or continued the film—

(gotta do some positive affirmations now so my brain knows it was just fiction and I don’t actually believe anything the reader says about herself hskshskjs)

thoughts on my blog? writings? content?

i've been planning and organizing some things for my writing and this blog for a while, and other sites (wattpad, ao3). but, i'm also very curious about what you all would like to see from me, which lead me to make a google form lol

so if you'd like, please read through these questions carefully and answer them truthfully (make take about five minutes or so)

i already have an idea of what i want to do and what kind of schedule i'll have for posting and such. i just love hearing everyone else's input or advice

speaking of which, if you have any advice on how you manage to put out content and stay semi-active while juggling school, work, etc. i'd love to know! <333

tagging some mutuals! i miss you all by the way, i'm going to check up on you all soon @peterpparkerwrites @celestialholland @parkerpeter24 @toms-gf @marvelouspeterparker @devotion @darlingholland @dhtomholland @ms-misery @keisdove @lovers-liability @bi-lmg07 @selfcarecap @greenorangevioletgrass @asonofpeter @ptergwen @veryholland @saturnpeter @petershbw @616films @vendettaparker @spideyspeaches @harry-hollands @lilbeatlebear

hi! pls read!!

i'm taking a break from tumblr! i'm not sure how long it will last but i need some time away from everything for a little bit. i started this blog back in august, only a couple months after the loss of a very close family member. i guess i started it so i could cope with my loss but i ended up putting too much on my plate. i haven't fully processed everything and i don't think i'll be able to for a while. but i think taking this break will give me enough breathing room. i'm not sure if i'll still post fics and nothing else, but i will pop in from time to time to see what's going on. i love this fandom and it's really helped me cope but right now i'm just a little overwhelmed. you guys have been the absolute sweetest and i'm so thankful for that!! but i need to invest all of my time into myself right now, i hope you all can understand. just remember, my inbox is always open if you need to chat!

thank you for reading if you made it this far :) and thank you for all your support! it means more than you’ll ever know <3

#37 and 44 prompt with tom :))

❀ girls like you ❀

it’s my first time writing bartender!tom & it was a lot of fun, i hope y’all enjoy :’) i think this au is gonna be reoccurring on this blog lmao 😳 also! gif by the wonderful @cindymooons <3

prompts: (37) kitchen counter make-outs + (44) wrapping your legs around your lover’s body as they lift you

↳ bartender!tom, rich kid!y/n, secret dating au, a pretty frivolous make-out

word count: 1.4k

flufftober drabbles (requests are open!)

when the clock finally ticks 12:30 am, tom slides out from behind the bar and walks towards the large double doors leading to the hotel main lobby. it’s been a long shift; ten hours with only a half hour break in between to get off his feet and smoke a cigarette outside in the sweet, sweet silence.

customers of the four seasons bar are especially rowdy on a friday night. tom’s got a theory at least half the somewhat wealthy, married men of london go there instead of their homes, tan lines apparent on their finger where their wedding ring used to be, now shoved into the pocket of their work slacks. they drink like retired sailors and lay on the shameless flirting heavily. the former doesn’t really bother tom—after almost three years of bartending here, he’s at a point where he doesn’t really need a partner to split the workload with on busy nights.

as he slides the final lock shut, a loud throat clearing takes him by surprise, and he jumps up with his hands in a fight position. the sight of you leaning against the now open staff door behind the bar has him relaxing, but it’s too late; your arms are crossed over your chest and a very amused grin plays on your red lips at his ridiculous boxing stance.

“you scared the fuck out of me,” tom breathes, taking out the rag he slides into the belt loops of his trousers. wiping the closest table, he watches as you move to lean forward against the bar, giving him a better view of your cleavage.

“oops,” you say, tone utterly remorseless. “i’m not keeping you from work, am i?”

as if that’s ever stopped you before. tom shakes his head, pointing to the empty room. “just closing up for the day. what are you doing here, accepting an oscar?”

you snort, teasingly striking a pose. the gown you’re wearing probably costs more than his car; long, black, and shimmery. it’s sleeveless, a sweetheart neckline highlighting your chest and collarbones. “no, just a little gathering for one of daddy’s new sponsors.” you answer, shrugging casually as though it’s something everyone does once in a while. in your world, that’s the case, tom reminds himself with a bite to his inner cheek.

“had the time of your life, i gather?” he grins when you roll your eyes and mime a gun to your forehead. “nobody talks about the struggles of girls like you. poor princess.”

even several feet away from you, he notices the way your eyes darken at the pet name, and it fills his chest with pride. good, you’re not the only one who can tease.

“yeah, well, just wanted to see if you’re up to anything before i go home.” liar.

leaving the rag behind, tom walks decisively towards the bar, delighting in the way you take a step back when he’s right in front of you. “you’re sure no one saw you coming in here?” he asks, gaze flickering across your expression.

you nod, breath hitching in your throat at the intensity of his honeyed eyes. “i left out of the front door, walked to the end of the block, and entered the staff door through the alley.” you recount, like a kid reciting a memorised poem with pride.

“good girl,” voice raspy as it utters two of your favourite words, tom closes the cap between you, hands sliding around your waist. your chests press together a second before your lips do, and you skip the chaste kisses phase to get straight to open-mouthed, heavy-tongued ones.

your fingers disappear into his hair, the gel he coats it with tired after a long shift, and you work it off his curls pleasantly. moaning into your mouth, tom’s hands crawl up your bare back, drawing shivers along your smooth skin. one of your palms leaves his head, trailing up his uncovered forearms and into his blazer when tom wraps you tighter in his embrace. your heeled legs wrap around his hips as he lifts you up, holding you in place for a brief moment as you break the kiss and dive into his thick neck, before placing you on the counter.

the heat of your tongue sears his sensitive skin as you lick across tom’s adam apple, sucking on the junction of his throat and neck. breathless, his hands cup your face, mashing your unfurled mouths together in another passionate kiss. teeth clashing, tongues fighting, shaky groans floating across the charged air between you.

as thought it physically pains him to do it, tom sighs and moves a hair’s width away, putting an end to your intertwined state. he looks down to your lap, jaw clenching when he notices the slits in your gown that show your thighs and legs in your seat position, with his hips holding them apart. a slow smile curls on your lips when he places his palms on your skin, one of your hands falling on his wrist to draw figures on his strong forearm with the tips of your fingers. the other cups his cheek, raising his head up to lock your eyes.

“i missed you this week,” you whisper, honesty dripping from your words like tequila into a shot glass.

tom’s features soften at your confession, and he squeezes your thigh, bumping the tip of your nose with his. “missed you too, princess.” he mumbles back, although there’s no one around to overhear. “you’ve been busy, huh?”

“my mum’s on my ass about a charity gala we’re supposed to cohost, yet somehow all the work’s fallen into my lap.” despite the annoyance of your statement, your voice is gentle and sweet, in tune with the back and forth movement of your thumb on the apple of his cheek. “i wished i were with you every single day, though. i can’t wait until my parents fuck off to bali next week and you can have me all to yourself again.”

the grin that spreads on his face is completely shameless, like he’s swallowed a hanger, and he locks an arm around your waist, dragging you closer to the edge of the bar. “all to myself… i really like the sound of that, sweetheart.” tom mutters, taking your bottom lip between his teeth for a split second. “as much as i love quickies in the elevator, i just wanna watch a bloody film with you and go to sleep like a regular couple.”

your heart thuds a bit faster when he refers to the both of you as a couple, and you try not to show just how flustered the label’s gotten you. it’s not like you and tom haven’t been exclusive for a few months now, but your situation is so precarious—all the secrecy and running around and scheduling brief moments to meet in between the chaos of your individual lives… it’s just hard to define your arrangement. you can’t even express in words how much it means to you that tom is the one who breaks that barrier for you, and he does so casually, like you’re the only one who’s been obsessing over the seriousness of your relationship this whole time. knowing how head empty he can be, you probably are the only one who’s taken notice of this dilemma.

“i really want that too,” you giggle timidly, laying a kiss on his chin, “especially now that i know, thanks to harrison, you’ve cried while watching notting hill.”

tom throws his head back with a groan, though the corner of his lips fight to curve at the sound of your dulcet laughter. “why would he even tell you that? you’re both obsessed with me.” he jokes, rolling his eyes like a dramatic teenager.

“i’m not obsessed with you, tommy,” grinning, you take his hand into yours and bring it to your chest. “i’m just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her.”

cheeks flushing a furious pink, tom’s mouth dries at the sweet nickname you address him with, before he bites on his lip and looks at you with the most vivid adoration you’ve ever seen. “don’t worry, the boy’s well on his way to loving you.”

darlingholland’s writing.

all rights reserved © darlingholland. i do not allow any translations or redistribution of my work on any other platform. i do not allow reposting of my work, whether you credit me or not.

all characters are 18+

PETER PARKER

⤏ p.p. blurb masterlist.

TOM HOLLAND

⤏ t.h. blurb masterlist.

ARVIN RUSSELL

⤏ a.r. blurb masterlist.

JOSHUA BASSETT

⤏ j.b. blurb masterlist.

three months

pairing: peter parker x fem!reader

synopsis: peter reminds you just how much he's missed you.

word count: 2.1k

warnings: fluffy makeup sex, minors dni !!

a/n: happy new year!! i hope this year brings you so much joy <3 this is my first time writing smut so let me know what you think!! try to spot the tasm2 references :p

it's been three months since peter decided to leave.

and it was impossible to not miss what once was. you couldn't help but miss those big, brown doe eyes. you couldn't help but miss the gentle touches he left on your skin in passing. you couldn't help but miss how he would try his hardest to get you to laugh after a bad day. and you couldn't help but miss the empty promise he spoke to you almost every day,

"i'm never letting you go."

and now, as you lay in bed, clad only in his faded blue jacket and your favorite underwear, you couldn't help but miss how good his body felt against yours.

it's been three months since peter decided he wasn't good for you.

peter had come to your window one night after a night on patrol. he could only utter words of worry, letting you know just how much danger he was putting you in by wearing the mask.

you were reluctant about it at first, of course. you didn't want peter to decide your path for you. but you knew he only wanted to keep you safe. and you knew he wouldn't give it up.

so you gave in.

you weren't a total disaster without him. you knew you could go on without him. but that didn't make it hurt any less. you built a world with peter, allowed yourselves to get lost in each other. how could you not still love him?

it's been three months since peter met you at your window.

so you were a little startled to hear familiar taps echo through your room. the sound snapping you out of your thoughts, you look up to find peter just outside your window. your mind, along with your heart, raced a mile a minute as you took him in. he was standing on the fire escape, offering you the slightest smile.

still dorky as ever.

you hesitated, not quite sure you were ready to see him after what felt like an eternity. nevertheless, you managed to peel the sheets off your body, feeling only slightly exposed in front of him.

unlocking the window, you take a step back, eager to hear what peter has to say.

"hi," he whispers, a small grin etching across his lips as he recognizes his jacket.

"hi," you repeat, suddenly unable to find words of your own.

"can i come in? it's kinda cold out here." he's fiddling with the sleeve of his sweater, a habit you only now realized you missed.

"yeah," you let out a breathy laugh before continuing, "of course, pete."

he was a little awkward climbing through the small opening, but that was all part of the peter parker charm you'd come to love so much. and once he was in, standing in front of you, all you could manage to do was stare at him. you weren't sure where to go from here.

peter took a step closer to you, further fogging your mind. there was minimal space between you now—and you were well aware.

it's been three months since peter looked you in the eyes.

and it was only now could you see the few tears that managed to escape and fall onto his flushed cheeks.

"can i hold you?" he asks just above a whisper. the slight crack in his voice makes your heart ache. you nod without any hesitation, excited to feel his touch once again. he slowly brings his hands up to your waist, gently squeezing. the seemingly innocent action makes you weak.

it's been three months since peter has touched you.

it was hard to fathom how the mere touch of his fingertips could make you so hot. you feel your face heat up at the abrupt thought of peter between your legs. and as you stare into your ex-lover's eyes, you wish he would say something, anything, to divert your mind.

"i'm sorry," he starts, letting out a small chuckle, "i couldn't stand being away from you any longer."

with confusion clouding over your features, you begin to probe, "peter i don't un-"

"i was so wrong, y/n. so so wrong." one of his hands comes up to slightly graze your cheek. "you're my path, y/n. you're my path."

the word he chose to emphasize does something to you.

"i'm never letting you go, again." he somehow manages to bring himself closer, now resting his forehead against yours. he shakes his head, repeating, "never, baby."

you couldn't help but smile thinking about your next words, "prove it." peter matches your smile before connecting his lips to yours.

it's been three months since peter has kissed you.

and with that singular kiss, the man has your mind running wild thinking of all the things you want him to do to you.

his hands leave your waist, instinctively finding the curve of your ass. "i've missed you," he mutters against your lips. "so much." his actions emphasize his words as he fervently grabs fistfuls of you. reaching your hands up, you tug on his familiar unruly locks. he lets out a small whimper, letting you know just how much he needs you.

growing hungry, peter glides one hand under your thigh, followed quickly by the next. you let out a squeal as peter swiftly picks you up, already feeling his cock straining against his jeans. you couldn't help but smile between kisses.

he's finally yours again.

peter hurriedly walks over to your bed, hands sliding across your back as he gently places you upon the sheets. that’s one thing that’s never changed about him—always so gentle.

nudging your sides and humming against your mouth, he mutters “let me see you, pretty girl.”

he makes you dizzy.

you reluctantly unwrap yourself from him, now feeling small under peter's gaze. seeing you turn your head away, peter places a finger under your chin, gently guiding your gaze back to him. and with a toothy grin, peter speaks a low “hi,”

“hi,” you repeat, overwhelmed by his tender demeanor.

peter leans in once again, this time nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. he places scattered kisses across your neck, occasionally nipping at your skin.

drawing his hands down to your waist, he slips his fingers under the worn out jacket adorning your body.

your body retreats at first, overstimulated after months without his touch. peter quickly catches on, pulling back, concern littering his features. “is this okay?” he asks, not wanting to lose you just as soon as he got you back.

“yeah, it’s okay,” bringing a hand up to his face, you run your fingers over his now rosy lips. “just forgot how good you felt.”

“you’ll be the end of me, y/n.” he smiles, lips quickly returning to yours.

peter’s hands find your body, his actions hurried this time. finding the zipper of your jacket, peter swiftly pulls the small piece of metal down your torso, only now noticing you had gone without a bra tonight.

“fuck baby,” he says just above a whisper, thumbs coming up to softly run over your nipples. “you’re so pretty, petal”

that fucking nickname.

peter brings his head down, connecting his lips to one of the erected buds. the feeling making you lose your breath. running your hand through his hair, you plead, “peter, please. do something.” “eager?” peter teases as he pulls away, a cocky smile plastered on his lips. you roll your eyes as you your hands find the hem of his shirt, tugging it off.

you've missed his body so much—missed him so much.

your heart fluttered at the view in front of you. placing your legs over his shoulders, peter found his way between our legs. he littered soft kisses over each of your thighs, careful to remain eye contact with you. “peter,” you whine, not sure if you could take any more of his teasing. taking the hint, peter steadily slides the lacy material down your legs.

it's been three months since peter has tasted you.

your back arches slightly as peter traces his tongue over your slit. his fingers quickly follow suit, only then ghosting his tongue lightly over your clit. “i’ve missed the way you taste," he murmurs against you. tugging slightly on his hair, you silently beg for something more.

making his way up your body, peter littering small kisses here and there—until finally connecting his lips to yours once again. his hands now occupied with the button of his jeans. matching peter's eagerness, your hands rush to remove the tattered jacket from your body.

this was met with a soft "no," from peter. hands coming up to cup your face. he's slow with his words, "leave it on," leaving a small peck to the tip of your nose, he continues, "wanna fuck you in my clothes." his words leave you trembling—the small smile he offers a stark contrast to his words. a small "okay," was all you could muster as you laid back, willing to give yourself fully to him.

hovering over you now, fully unclothed, peter gives you an endearing smile. "what?" you mumble, bringing your hands to cover your face.

the silence is calm, full of love.

"i love you," he whispers, pulling your arms down. his eyes find yours and you swear you could see the sincerity of his words. overwhelmed with all the emotions those simple words brought you, you remind him, "i haven't heard you say those words in months, pete" this time feeling small under your gaze, peter's eyes shift to nothing in particular.

"i love you." you finally repeat. his eyes light up, a goofy smile dancing across his lips. "i love youuu" he drags out playfully, sending you into a small fit of giggles. "god, i love that sound." he says, voice now low and full of ardor.

he knew exactly what to say and how to say it—your peter.

you wrap your arms around his neck, the blue fabric contrasting beautifully against his skin. now you know why he bought this thing. keeping your eyes on him, peter rolls himself into you effortlessly, as if he never left.

it's been three months since peter has fucked you.

"peter," you whine, your darling boy now stretching you out. you felt so full after months of feeling empty. "you okay?" he's gentle, more than willing to take as much time as you need. "yeah, i'm okay." you smile, "just needed a moment. go ahead." "that's my girl," he chuckles, burying his face in the crook of your neck, pulling out almost completely before thrusting back into you.

god he fucks good.

"look so good in my clothes, baby." peter's movement falters, bringing your leg up to wrap around his waist—your back arching at the new position. the heat in your stomach growing with each thrust.

you two are fully consumed, wanting nothing more than to feel each other. familiarizing yourselves with each other's bodies like you did all those years ago. he's your everything right now—and always.

peter picks up his pace, pressing his forehead against yours—making eye contact as he pounds into you. "feels so good," he murmurs, glancing down at where your bodies connect. needing something more, you lift your hips up to meet him, creating the perfect rhythm. his thrusts become unforgiving, but never too much.

"fuck, pete," you cry, now looking into his eyes. "m gonna cum," your hand goes to find your center, only to be stopped by peter, quick to trace lazy circles over your clit, the overbearing sensation causing you to arch further into him. "that's my girl," he coos, "let go for me, baby,"

"peter," you mewl, now overcome by pleasure. pounding into you now once—twice, until he cums. peter drops his head into the crook of your neck, painting your walls with his hot cum.

"you okay?" he asks breathlessly. you could only respond with a simple yes. his cock twitches as he pulls out of you, moaning at the loss. the feeling of his cum spilling out of you leaves you high.

peter lifts his head, soft eyes gazing into yours now—always so pretty after a good fuck. the comfortable silence is broken by him, "i'm never leaving you again," his head shakes lightly as he says these words, "ever." a small smile forms on your lips, knowing just how much he means it. mirroring your smile, he continues, "and i'm gonna do everything in my power to make you believe that."

it's been three months and peter has never stopped loving you.

He found you, and still finds you, absolutely beautiful, breath-taking, and wonderful.

ofc he does😌

“What- what? No no no, it’s okay. It’s okay. Are you okay?” he asks a slight rasp to his voice for just waking up.

i can hear him saying this n it’s beautiful :’)

He starts to think about how he’s going to teach that fucking brother of yours a lesson. He doesn’t even want or need to know what he did because the fact that you’re in this state tells him enough.

i love this line sm n i love protective peter <33

“C'mon, please?” he asks in a softer voice. How could you say no?

i rlly couldn’t even if i tried😭

“That’s what friends are for—”

“Oh, shut the fuck up.”

this is so funny plsss

the beauty next door (peter parker x reader)

summary: your next-door neighbor is, to your surprise, always there for you when you need him

word count: 1.4k

warnings: angst, fluff, hint of language. this is a repost! (with a bunch of editing) but this fic will officially be considered a longer fic and no longer a drabble.

a/n: am i using an andrew garfield gif? fuck yea i am. but tbh w any of my peter fics you can imagine whichever peter you want to imagine. obviously most fics are more mcu, but from now on most of my peter fics are going to be flexible meannningg you could imagine it's tom, andrew or even play station peter :)

also hey mutuals i tagged in this, please lmk if you're okay or not okay w being tagged! it's been a while and i'm not sure who reads my stuff anymore haha

peter parker masterlist

Peter wakes up at sudden repetitive knocking at his front door. He grumbles and glances at the clock. Three in the morning.

He just went to sleep a couple of hours ago. He places his hands on his face and then sits up as the knocking continues. He flicks on the light and groans out loud with frustration.

“What the fuck,” he complains and throws his sheets off of him, getting up to walk towards the door. He peeks through the peephole and to his surprise, he sees you standing there. You're trembling and looking around frantically with tears all over your face. “Y/n?” he opens the door immediately.

Peter moved into his apartment not too long ago and met you. When he first met you, he offered to help with your boxes and take them up to your place where he later found out was across his. He found you, and still finds you, absolutely beautiful, breath-taking, and wonderful. He's more than happy to have you as his neighbor. Although, he was a bit surprised to find out you have a roommate, who happened to fortunately and unfortunately be your asshole of a brother. Though, you didn’t seem to mention him much so peter never asked.

Even though you and Peter didn’t get to see each other much because you both have your own busy schedules, you both couldn’t deny the pull you feel towards each other. Anytime you each had a chance to talk, whether it be meeting each other in the hallway, by the mailbox, or trash, you both took the time to get to know each other and catch up. Neither of you ever asked each other out, simply because you both have been planning to but haven't gotten around to it, yet.

You look up quickly and look at him with eyes full of emotions that he could recognize easily. Fear. Pain. He can feel your heart racing and opens his mouth to say something until you cut him off. Your lips quiver as you barely manage to murmur out, “I’m so sorry.”

Usually, you would never do something like this, wake up your poor neighbor at such an unusual hour but you know him and trust him and at the moment you felt like he was the only person you could go to. You're starting to feel a bit guilty now when your eyes rake over his exhausted face.

“What- what? No no no, it’s okay. It's okay. Are you okay?” he asks a slight rasp to his voice for just waking up. He cringes at his stupid question because he can easily tell you’re not okay but it was a question he'd always ask out of habit.

The simple question causes everything you were holding back to crash down on you. You choke on a sob and shake your head aggressively, hesitantly holding out your arms for him to hold you. You just want him to hold you, that's all you want right now and luckily, he does.

Peter immediately complies and pulls you into his embrace. He senses another presence and glances back at your place to see your brother slamming the door before storming off. He sends a glare toward him and brings you inside of his place, closing the door.

He places a hand on your head gently and the other on your back, rubbing circles onto your sweater in an attempt to comfort you. You cry loudly into the crook of his neck and wrap your arms around him, your hands are barely being able to meet as you try to hug him tighter. Your fingers grasp the materials of his shirt while your tears stain the clothing. Your knees gradually give up on you and you begin to slip through his arms.

He naturally adjusts and slides to the floor with you, holding you in between his legs. “Hey, I got you. Let it out,” he murmurs and massages your scalp, closing his eyes. He starts to think about how he’s going to teach that fucking brother of yours a lesson. He doesn't even want or need to know what he did because the fact that you’re in this state tells him enough.

You wail out as the memories flash through your mind. You weren’t sure why everything feels so painful. Everything mentally and physically hurts. All he did was yell, and yell, and yell. It terrified you every time. You thought at first you could handle it, but it seemed you’ve had enough, obviously. You couldn’t help but feel so weak after what had happened. So fragile. You thought to yourself, why couldn’t I be stronger?

Minutes fade into an hour. Your weeping falters into soft hiccups and coughs. Peter never stopped rubbing your back and soon he pulls away to glance at you. Embarrassed enough, you hide your face in his chest.

Christ, you’ve only known the guy for a month and here you are breaking down in his arms before you were even able to ask him out. as if you were ever going to though. 

“Let me look at you,” he murmurs and tucks a hair behind your ear. You really didn’t want to. You can already imagine how you look right now. Face red, nose runny, eyes puffy, sweaty skin, hair sticking everywhere. God. “C'mon, please?” he asks in a softer voice. How could you say no?

You groan quietly and begrudgingly lift your face up toward him. Now you can see his face. His stupid, perfect face. He begins to smile and you begin to frown. Why is he smiling? Did you look that bad? Before you could look away again, he carefully holds your face with his hand. “W-What?” you whisper, your voice hoarse and tired from the crying.

“You're absolutely beautiful, you know that?” he swipes a thumb underneath your eye, wiping away tears that you didn’t realize slipped out.

“No,” you reply honestly and sniffle. He chuckles quietly and continues to stare at you. You blush at his intense gaze and avoid eye contact. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying that,” he rolls his eyes and pushes your head into his chest once again. He ruffles your hair which causes you to whine, “You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

“But—”

“No buts. It's okay. I’m your friend. I’m here for you,” he mutters and places his chin upon your head.

You curl up closer to him and nod, placing a hand on his chest as he wraps his arms around you once again. “Thank you. Seriously. I'm here for you too..." you sigh and think back to everything that happened. You feel he at least deserves an explanation, "He—"

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“Oh. Okay. Thank you,” you reply, a bit shocked. You smile as your face smushes up against his chest and close your eyes.

“You don’t need to thank me. That’s what friends are for.”

“Are you really friend-zoning me right now?” you ask, your voice laced with sarcasm.

Your snarky retort throws him off guard. “W-What? No- no, it’s just I-I didn’t want to—”

“I’m joking.”

“Right, right,” he exhales and chuckles.

“Is it okay if I sleep next to you... tonight?”

“Yea, of course. Couch? my bed?”

“I don't care, just want to be next to you. If that’s okay.”

“More than okay, let’s go,” he stands up and swoops you up in his arms easily. Almost too easily, but you’ll bring that up later. He decides for you and walks over to his bed. He places you down and you lie on your back on the other side of his bed. He turns off the light and finds his way next to you, also lying on his back. He pulls the blanket up to cover the two of you.

You both stare at the ceiling, a comfortable silence filling the room until you decide to break it. “Can we cuddle?” you whisper and turn your head towards him.

He turns his head towards you and smiles tiredly, nodding. He sits up a bit and holds out his arms. You shuffle closer and wrap your arms around him like before, placing your head on his chest. He lies back down and pulls you flush against him. You drape one of your legs over him and sigh with content. You hear his heartbeat pound slowly, the rhythm almost like a lullaby. His breathing and the way his chest moves up and down calm you even more. “Thank you," you whisper.

“That's what friends are for—”

“Oh, shut the fuck up.”

thanks for reading! what did you think?

tagging some mutuals!

@subspider @celestialholland @parkerpeter24 @parkers-gal @t-lostinworlds @peterbenjiparker @petershbw @petersgroupie @dhtomholland @heavenlyholland @selfcarecap @vendettaparker @supremethunda @marvelouspeterparker @blissfulparker @devotion @darlingholland @eloquenceflores @screamholland @reawritesthings @harry-hollands @hollandcrush @asonofpeter @ptersmj @bi-lmg07 @saturnpeter @spideyspeaches @spidernerdsblog @ms-misery

🧸🧸🧸🧸