Yes. I AM Very Much Infatuated With Him 🤭🤭

omg this is incredibly adorable. LOVE‼️‼️

✦ CITY OF STARS.

summary : peter swings you to a perfect late-night date.

word count : 0,6k

warnings : tooth rotting fluff, implied fem!reader, pet names, kisses.

a/n : inspired by this deleted scene!! requests for peter are open if u want to send in ur ideas / prompts ^_^ also kind of inspired by that one scene in atsv where gwen & miles hangout by that tower yk

"let's get out of here." peter whispers, his voice tickles your skin again as he places another kiss on your nose.

you sigh, cupping his cheek, "i can't peter, i told you." you repeat — which not surprisingly causes peter to pout. "why not?"

"because. i have.. homework." you shrug. it's true though, the pile of papers near your desk is practically calling you to be read or marked.

he pouts, again. but he isn't giving up.

"don't look at me like that." you chuckle, your thumb caressing peter's cheek, running through his freckles.

"like what?"

"with your big brown doe eyes."

peter tries a bit more. the more you make eye contact with him, the harder it is to say no.

"fine. but you seriously have to get blue contacts, peter." you let go of his cheek.

"yes, ma'am." he nods. you couldn't tell if he's joking or not, but it's funny either way.

he gets up and grabs his backpack, it seems heavier than usual. "grab your jacket, bub. it's gonna be cold."

"where are you taking me?"

"secret."

"that doesn't sound creepy at all."

"come on. trust me." peter's waiting near the window. "are you gonna take me on a swing?"

peter puts his beanie on. "does the hat give it away?" he asks, the spiderman crochet beanie in bright red staring right at you.

you smile. "yeah it kinda does."

peter tucks the loose hair behind your ear before helping you out the window, and before you know it you're one with the wind. and also with new york's pollution.

peter's gentle, one hand holding your waist and the other thwip! -ing away at buildings. your hands are wrapped around his neck, face burried in the crook of it. you could smell his cologne, it's the one you like.

you relax at the scent of it. it almost makes you forget that you're meters up in the air.

but then your shoes touch ground.

it was a ledge of a clock tower. it's not steep, it's actually very spacey up here. if you think about it you could probably fit a picnic up here, a small hangout even with a few friends.

"you good?" peter lets go, "yeah. this is cozy." you say, fixing your sweater. "don't you think people will see us here?" you ask.

"no. but. if they do-" peter opens his bag, "i got back up." he reveals a beanie, like the one he's wearing, it's a spiderman one too but with different colours.

it's white with pink outlines.

"we're matching!" peter puts the beanie on you. it fits perfectly, "that's so cute peter. do i get to keep it?" — "of course. made it just for you. besides i don't think people can spot us here unless they really, really, really squint. and now when they do, they'll just see our hats."

you nod. peter gestures for you to sit.

"i got more stuff." he smiles, teeth showing, teasingly.

you roll your eyes at him before sitting next to the empty space beside him.

he pulls out two takeout boxes, followed by the plastic eating utensils, and some water, and some more.

"oh. wow." you say, impressed.

you weren't kidding. you could fit a picnic here.

"what're you waiting for? dig in!" peter passes your takeout. "i got your favorite too."

"aw. thank you, peter." you give him a kiss. "i'll get you ice cream after this. or whenever you feel like ice cream." you give him another kiss.

"thank you!" he gasps, dramatically. "that is everything i have ever wanted." peter replies.

you smile, "this is everything i have ever wanted."

WICKED'S SUMMER FESTIVAL

A writing event based on summer as its main theme!

Hello! I’m hosting a little writing event to bring some inspiration to those who may want to write something new!

Here's a little FAQ if you aren't familiar with writing events (or at least mine!):

What’s it about?

For a lot of people, summer is almost there! Try to write something with what can be considered a "summer topic." EX.: the beach, a vacation, sundresses, swimsuits, a date in warm and sunny weather and so on.

Are AUs allowed?

Yes! Though of course they aren’t mandatory. Mob AU, Modern AU, Royal AU… whatever fits best the narrative you’re looking to do! Here are a couple I’m able to think of right now:

Coffee shop AU

Flower/tattoo shop AU

College AU

Historical AU

Fairy tale AU

Roommates AU

Dystopian AU

Modern AU

Some more questions you may have…

“Event time?”

From June 1st to August 31st! It’s summer where I live during that time and it made me want to organise a fun challenge for fic writers all around to participate in.

“Can I write about any fandom?”

Of course! I am tagging some fandoms though it is obviously not limited to only these!

“One shot or multiple parts?”

That is up to you and where your imagination takes you! I think the event time is long enough to do multiple parts should you want, but a one shot is already wonderful! You can even do multiple one shots if a couple of subjects interest you!

“SFW or NSFW?”

Both can be done! though not mandatory. You can write the fluffiest fluff, the smuttiest smut, or both at once! Even angst if you feel inspired!

Here’s a list of tropes, situations and even quotes that may inspire you along with the summer theme!

Tropes:

Friends to lovers

Enemies to lovers

mutual pining

rivals

Arranged marriage

crossover

fake relationship

Hanahaki disease

Sex pollen

Fake dating

Situations:

“there is only one bed and neither wants to let the other sleep on the ground”

“now is clearly not the right time to express their feelings but they both feel like they’ll never do it otherwise”

“saw the other in a swimsuit/specific outfit they never wore before and they are currently slowly losing it”

“person A invited B to a festival, fair, crowded event and using it as an excuse to hold their hands as to not lose them in the crowd”

“person B asks to go swimsuit shopping to A and A is feeling blood rush somewhere from person B modeling swimsuits to them”

“There’s a firework show going on but person A is looking a person B instead”

Quotes:

“Gimme a sec I’m not drunk enough to listen to this”

“Take another step, and I can’t be held responsible for my actions”

“After all this do you really think I don’t love you?”

“Look at how far I would go in fear of losing you”

“I thought I lost you”

“Let me show you how much I love you”

“I wasn’t sure which flowers you liked so I got one of everything they had”

“Is there a special reason as to why you’re wearing my shirt?”

“I have a name, and it’s not sweetheart”

“I’ll do it. If you do something for me.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep”

“I can’t help it, you’re fun to mess with.”

“If I could, I’d kiss away all your scars”

“prove it.”

“Do I look like I’m messing around? Do I look like I won’t punish you?”

“Show me how much you missed me.”

“What makes you think I’m going to fuck you?”

“Shall we put that mouth to better use?” I hope this brings you some inspiration! you can use #Wicked's summer festival 2023 and I shall reblog (or at least try to) your fics here!

Taglist: @moonyslove78 @rae-gar-targaryen @papaya-047 @drew-garfi @fallensilencefics @petcr3 @squiddtheekidd @albatrossandivys @mortwig @withahappyrefrain @lilacvine

i could cry bc this is so beautiful and SO accurate

bucky barnes who doesn’t trust unless it comes to you. whose eyes soften at the sight of you, because his heart knows that it’s okay to let his guard down. he believed the world always had its claws out to get him, until he fell straight into your gentle arms. he tells you the word love meant nothing to him until you came along.

bucky barnes who would live for you. the winter soldier would kill for anyone, the white wolf would die for anyone, but bucky would live for you. he’s never believed in fate, but if it wasn't destiny that brought you to him, he doesn’t know what it was. he thinks maybe it was all worth it, the trauma and the scars and the pain, if it all lead up to the moment when you told him i love you.

bucky barnes who searches for you even in nightmares, screams your name till his lungs burn with self-hatred. you’re his safe space, his home. he’s drawn back to wakefulness as soon as he feels your touch, the gentleness of your breath on his skin like an aching balm to his wounds. he’ll never stop apologising for the burden that comes with his affection, yet he won’t ever stop loving you.

bucky barnes who thinks of hurting you as no less than a sin. who believes even pulling out a single strand of your hair is a hundred times worse than every murder committed as the winter soldier. because what’s a few dozen people in comparison to his whole universe?

bucky barnes who wakes up a little earlier in the morning; not to see the sun rise, but to watch the soft rays dapple your face. he thinks you look angelic, the golden hue painting you in so much beauty that he feels blessed; wonders if he oughts to start praying to gods he never once believed in.

bucky barnes who tells you he loves you more times than he can count. whose voice is hardened from years of tortured, ragged cries; but the word doll tumbles out of his lips like soft petals when he looks at you. he knows seven different tongues, and is fluent in every single one. he claims that none of them have the words to describe how you make him feel.

bucky barnes who kisses like a hungry dog, like there’s an ache in his soul that can only be filled by the feeling of your lips on his, skin to skin. he believes the sole purpose of his metal arm is to pin you to the wall. roughness is the only form of love he’s ever known.

bucky barnes who buys you everything you talk about in passing, who takes you out wherever your heart yearns to go, who kisses your knuckles with the softest touch of his lips. he inhales when you exhale at night to make space for the rise of your chest. he only ever holds your hand with his non-metal one so as to not hurt you. he traces your features while you sleep. he loves you with the full force of the word, because you’re his girl.

bucky barnes who could never unlove you, would never want to. even if the strings of his soul were tied to another, he would cut them off and run straight to you.

this is so beautiful that i cant even find the words to describe this!! im mesmerised 🫠🫠

@privateanxieties

would you, maybe?

Summary: Peter really, really wants his vampire girlfriend to bite him. He finds out it’s more than just a sex thing.

Pairing: tasm!Peter x vampire!Reader (she/her); 18+ mature, smut, established relationship, possessiveness, dirty talk, blood sharing; there is a kink here but I don’t know what to call it. If anyone knows, please share with the class.

Words: 7.2K

——————————–

He’s tried everything except asking.

The idea got lodged in his head weeks ago, in the most innocent way possible - a hug. She’d just come back from visiting her family overseas and hadn’t fed while there. Her parents weren’t especially fond of her peculiar dietary choices. Namely, they thought drinking from the tap was far superior to the bottled nonsense from which their daughter got sustenance. She didn’t like feeding off of humans, even the willing ones that supplied her relatives with blood in exchange for the pure thrill of it. Some people were freaky, she explained, and they simply enjoyed feeling like they were a part of something special. He bought half the explanation. From the way her eyes were avoiding his, he guessed there must’ve been more to the story. In any case, she’d said she wasn’t fond of drinking straight from the vein and he took her word for it. For that reason, part of him was unsure about what he wanted to ask; but there was another part too - one that had taken in a sight he couldn’t forget.

Upon her return, he’d pulled her into the bone-crushing hug that he’d always craved but could never have, because minding his strength always came first. Vampires, he’d come to learn, were pretty durable. And he was glad that was the case for many reasons, but of course, his mind immediately went to other potential applications of that durability.

Keep reading

valkyrie is hot 😍😍

the way you set the scene + the feelings they provoke 🤭🤭

your beauty never ever scared me

ship: vampire!valkyrie x reader

summary/request: a cozy night in with your wife. sequel to your little heart goes pitter-patter

word count: 1k

warnings: smut (18+), vaginal fingering (reader receiving), alcohol consumption, bloodsucking, soft vampire wife

masterlist | monsterfucker celebration 2022 masterlist

The dancing of flames in the fireplace casts shifting shadows throughout the library. They flicker across Valkyrie’s skin, illuminating her face in an orange hue. She notices you staring at her. She always does. 

“I know you can’t take a picture, but my portrait is upstairs,” she grins. “It’ll last longer.”

“What’s the fun in that?" 

Keep reading

HI rich skateboarder!kate gives cocky himbo HCs?

My wife and I are going through a phase, she’s feeling…fuck boy lately

I gib bites and chomps in return!!!

cocky himbo!kate headcanons

nsfw below the cut — 18+

gskdh

she has so many sweaters and flannels and jackets and she lets you take whatever you want (you usually take the ones from her floor after she’s worn them all day so they smell like her)

SHE WEARS COLOGNE💕💕💕💕💕

even though she has money she drives a really shitty old car that breaks down all the time

but in her spare time she learned how to fix it up so now she spends a bunch of time working on her car and looking hot

she wears boxers <3

so that she can pack…… i think i have a thing for kate packing idk

she likes pressing up against you in public so you can tell she’s wearing the strap <333

oh she loves having you on your knees also

cuz she likes holding you by the hair while you suck her dick

and then she throws you onto the bed n fucks you there for a while

and she LOVES to make you warm her when you’re done

or before

or whenever

she also sucks at cooking so when you’re at her place you eat a lot of cereal and lukewarm monster energy

or take out when she remembers she can order in

(she forgets a lot cuz she’s so busy teasing you or dragging you to the skate park or um. fucking you.)

oh she likes to show you off to all her friends when she’s out

duh

also she goes to random parties with you every now and then but it always ends with you both leaving early cuz you “made her horny”

(she drank too much beer and sat you in her lap and whispered a few too many things in your ear)

she is one of those girls who sleeps on one million pillows btw

so when you sleep in her bed it is like a mountain and then You and then kate somewhere underneath

she luvs to cuddle so it’s okay (but DONT tell anyone)

this so perfect. peter is so perfect. @literaila is so perfect. i have no words.

i’ll tell you in the morning

tasm!peter x reader

summary:

“you’re going to fall through the couch.”

“the couch would never betray me.”

warnings: overly considerate peter, scheming reader, fluff and stuff

*

“you’re supposed to be in bed.”

his voice rolls, like a click on a cassette, and you know that peter is not really there.

because it’s all a little blurry. his voice, the door opening, the feeling when he kneels down next to you, his breath hot in your ear.

it’s all some remanent of a dream. a brief moment where you might wake up, but decide not to.

“i’m serious,” his voice ebbs and flows, waving in and out, like your consciousness. “you know i don’t like it when you wait up for me.”

you groan and roll even further into the couch. your face is smushed, and your hair is a mess, sweaty because you’re drowning under every blanket in the house. it smells like cotton, and peter’s deodorant, and potato chips that you probably dropped through the cushions.

you dig your nose in deeper, trying to get back to that dream.

peters probably not actually there, you think, because if he was he would’ve kissed you awake. his hand would be lazily running through your hair, and his body would be pressed against yours. you would be cuddling by now.

real peter is much nicer than dream peter, who shakes your shoulder, albeit massaging you right afterward. “c’mon, bug, we’re going to bed.”

“sleeping,” you mumble, pulling away from him.

dream peter continues to try and wake you up, while you wonder—amidst the dream, no doubt—when real peter will be home. you want to be drowning in his collarbone instead of your own sweat.

there’s a kiss next to your ear. “you’re going to fall through the couch.”

“the couch would never betray me.”

“we’ll see if you’re saying that in the morning, when your neck is bent the wrong way,” he whispers, and rests his head against yours. you feel it as he breathes out, relaxes. almost like he’s purring into your ear.

so you keen into him, a bit awkwardly, considering that it’s his forehead. “why’d you wake me up?”

“you can’t sleep here.”

“c’mere,” you murmur to him, your hand wrapping around the back of his neck, fingertips just brushing his hair. “cuddle with me.”

“being cute isn’t going to stop me from moving you.”

“peter,” you try and push him away, “go to bed.”

“why are you out here?” his nose trails down your hair, to your neck. “it’s almost four in the morning.”

you ponder this, and decide that you don’t really remember what you were doing before you fell asleep here, with your hand shoved in the crook of your neck. “the beds cold,” you slur, head falling back into the cushions as you doze.

“that’s because all of the blankets are out here. why didn’t you turn the heat up?”

he’s playing with some baby hair by your ear now, trying to lull you to sleep, probably, because he loves you.

“i was waiting for you,” you whisper this like a prayer, “and now you’re here.”

“you waited in the wrong spot. i would’ve come to bed with you. there’s no room for me here,” he smiles when you finally turn your head towards him. he’s got a smudge on his nose, and his eyes are sunken in—aged from exhaustion.

“i know.”

you’re both whispering. trying not to wake that drowsy, lovesick part of yourself right now.

“hmm?” he leans into you, nose brushing your cheek. almost like he’s breathing you in. “what, bug?”

“i wanted to fall asleep with you.”

then his eyes are wide open, and he leans back, brows furrowed in a tight line. “i told you i was going out.”

you muse at his confused face, and lean back towards him. “i know. i didn’t know when you’d be home.”

“you could’ve called.”

“i’m not going to interrupt your repertoire with a burglar at midnight. it’s rude.”

“not to me.”

you tsk, and lean away, back into the pillow comforting you while simultaneously scheming to ruin your morning.

“you need more sleep than i do,” peter adds, trying to keep you awake with his sheer willpower, his hands squirm under your shoulders. “we’ve talked about this.”

“no, you threatened to tell my mom—“

“that’s not what i said,” peter interrupts, groaning into the sofa.

“that i wasn’t getting enough sleep. and i said that you could make your own decisions, but that i wasn’t going to stop waiting up for you.”

“it makes me feel bad,” he ignores your gentle protesting. “i don’t want to keep you up.”

“peter, it’s not like you’re out dancing with strippers.”

he laughs, unexpectedly. and you grin back at him, with a sheer conviction undiluted by any hints of remaining sleep.

“you’re up helping people. i don’t mind waiting for you,” you emphasize this by leaning in to kiss his forehead, tasting sweat and not minding at all.

“you’re going to be tired tomorrow. when did you fall asleep?”

you acknowledge your win for what it is, and sit up on the couch, looking around your apartment like you can’t remember where you are. “probably an hour ago. i didn’t know when you’d be home, and i waited a while, but then i moved to the couch so you’d have to wake me up if i fell asleep.”

“so this was an elaborate scheme, huh?” peter laughs at you as his teeth graze your cheek. his chaste kiss makes you warm.

“i learned from the best.”

peter chuckles against you, and the two of you sit like that for a moment. calculating each others breathing like there’s something you might miss, however brief.

and then you smile at him, and he smiles back. “bed?” he asks you, softly, fingertip running against the skin of your jaw. you nod.

his arms wrap around you as he picks you up, your head rested comfortably on his shoulder, legs wrapped around his waist.

“i’m leaving you on the couch next time,” he threatens as he walks, “just so you know.”

“then we’ll both wake up with sore backs. not just you.”

peter snorts. “i didn’t say i would be there.”

“like you can sleep without me.”

he doesn’t say anything to that, but you feel him murmur in your hair suspiciously.

peter sets you down on the bed softly, pushing your legs so you’ll lay down, then covering you with the comforter. he tucks you in like any average middle aged dad.

when you grin he nods, very satisfied with himself.

“i’m just gonna change,” he says, taking a step back.

“hurry. i’m tired.”

“now, look who’s talking,” he shakes his head, but moves swiftly to the bathroom. you hear it as he runs the sink, as he bangs his foot on something and curses, and when he pads back into the bedroom, looking like a young child sneaking out of bed in his pajamas.

you laugh. “where did you get those?”

peter looks down to himself. to the many cartoon styled spider-man’s dancing across his cotton pajama set. “what? this old thing.”

“i don’t think i can be seen in public with you if you’re wearing that.”

“we are in the privacy of our bedroom,” he points out.

“i don’t think i can be in the same room with you if you’re wearing that.”

peter shakes his head, pouting like he’s disappointed, but he slips the shirt off, a concession he’s apparently willing to make.

though you don’t doubt that there are ulterior motives to this move.

“c’mon,” you whine to him, “i’m cold.”

“you’re so needy.”

you roll your eyes, but sink into him as he shuffles from beside you, laying his head near yours. “you’re not coddling me.”

“i’m so very sorry, my dear,” he whispers, and wraps his arms around you.

“shh,” you nuzzle your nose into his neck, and murmur against his hot skin. “i want to go back to the dream i was having.”

peter must be laughing at you, you can tell, even slightly asleep, because something jostles you.

“what was it about?”

you smile against him, listening to his heart like a hymn you’re devoted to. “i’ll tell you in the morning.”

he whispers something, brief, a whisper in the quiet of the room. but you feel the words as he settles into the bed, his calloused hands running over your skin.

and you fall asleep; hands clutching the others heart.

*

the representation + characterisation of yelena in this fic >>>>

for your blurb night, "in case you ever foolishly forget, i am never not thinking of you" with yelena? 🤍

miss luiza, my love, my fellow yel simp, i hope i did this a justice for you, i changed the dialogue a little bit to make it more fluffy <3

sweet in your memory.

pairing: yelena belova x (f)reader

word count: 986

warnings: badly written fluff, weed smoking, nat is alive and well, mention of a past hookup, kissing, slight miscommunication, carol and valkyrie quickly mentioned. 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI.

i do not give anyone permission to translate or repost my work, please be respectful — if you enjoyed please comment or reblog!

The blissful dazed high of the blunt that's pressed to your lips as you take a long inhale, swallow, let it out slowly—is doing the exact opposite of just that. The bliss part getting snuffed out by the nerves that make your stomach sink each time Yelena looks over at you, gives you that lopsided grin; when your fingers brush against each others for the half second when you’re passing the blunt between the two of you, turning that dazed high into hyperawareness. 

The two of you are sat on the fire escape, the sounds of the city and people venturing out late into the summer heat present below you—and the music and laughs of Nat and the rest of the girls from inside flowing through the window. 

But all you can hear, all you see, smell, feel, is Yelena beside you. The weed only adding to the torture of nerves in your belly and the unasked questions fumbling around in your head. 

Your eyes glance over to her, her perched on the window sill, one leg bent at the knee on the frame, the other on the fire escape. The street lights painting her features in a dull orange that makes her even more beautiful. 

You try not to stare at the way her lips wrap around the blunt, or how attractive it looks held between her ringed fingers. Because when she catches you staring it only makes a heat flood your cheeks and a cheeky smirk form across her face, you quickly look away as you try to hide your smile with a cough to the back of your hand. 

The two of you hadn't spoken about what happened a week ago—it seeming more like months ago by how it had left you feeling; confused, flying high, utterly crushing on the woman beside you. 

It's not like you never had the chance to ask her what everything meant, the glances, the smiles, the hand touches, the pecks to the cheek, in the wake of what had happened. But maybe it was the memory of her lips on yours-and other parts of you—the night that the two of you having spent together living like a ghost on your skin; constantly haunting you, yet you were too afraid to exorcize it, to ask it what it wanted. 

And it wasn't Yelena who was stopping you from asking, it wasn't how she was acting-she hadn't changed, she was still the same, still flirtatious and constantly giving you signs that it had meant something, but what you didn't know. And part of you had hoped maybe she would bring it up, because your nerves were pussing out, and you didn't think you could go another week without knowing, without holding yourself back from reaching out and feeling her lips again.

Without staring at her like a lost love sick puppy. 

You had hoped the weed would have helped give you the courage, but now you know it had only made you more of that love sick puppy for her. A rose colored shein over your eyes each time you would steal a glance at her, smelled her strong perfume, heard her laugh at whatever was going on in the apartment-or from how awkward you were being. 

After taking one more puff of the blunt, handing it to Yelena, holding your breath for a second, a minute, three, you finally think fuck it, and go for it, “Yel,” you start, no hint of bravery in your voice whatsoever. When you turn towards her after her hum of acknowledgment, your mouth feels incredibly dry. Your throat itchy. “About…what happened, the other night.” You swallow, try to ignore the corner of her mouth pulling up slightly, amused. “Do you, uh, ever think about it?” 

And now you know for sure the weed was a bad idea, it turning you into a speechless fool. Asking her the question that wasn't even on the tip of your tongue, your mind and mouth on different wavelengths; but both keening for this woman. 

“Do I think about it?” Her accent is deeper when she's been smoking, when amusement is laced in her tone. Her grin growing, the heat in your cheeks feeling like an all out forest fire. 

Before you can nod, or open your mouth to say something—elaborate, stop looking like a deer in headlights—Nat is poking her head through the window, pushing Yelena’s leg out of the way in the process. 

“If you two love birds are done, the pizza’s here.” She gives Yelena a wink and then she’s back inside the apartment. 

Yelena puts out the remaining of the blunt on the windowsill, throwing it in the can specifically put out there for such discarding's. “We better go before Carol and Val fight over the pepperoni.” She smiles, the awkward conversation between the two of you pushed away—your chest only deflating a little (a lot). 

You expect her to pull herself through the window but instead she’s stepping out onto the fire escape, reaching her hand out for you to take to help you to your feet. The weed finally hitting you with that daze now that you’re standing this close to her, now that her palms are cupping your cheeks, the warm metal of her rings searing your skin, as she presses a soft kiss to your lips. 

Her lips smiling against yours when you let out an elongated sigh, when she pulls away that rose colored haze has gone completely red—with love, with other heated things—making a shy chuckle escape you. 

“For the record, in case you are ever foolishly wondering, or forget, I am never not thinking of you.” She presses another kiss to your lips, “or that night.” Her hands fall from your cheeks, “it’s actually highly annoying how much I think about it. Of you, very distracting.” the both of you laugh, fingers finding the others to hold.

😫😫

Idk why but I always thought a cute concept would be like: Peter and the reader are just making out like usual but the lose track of time and realize that they’ve just been kissing eachother for hours and just joke about it. Idk but I always thought that was a cute concept lol

ask box  |  taglist  |  blurb masterlist  |  main masterlist 

w/c: 459

warnings: swearing and making out

a/n: sorry for the wait i needed a lil break but i’m back and working on all ur requests so please be patient! this was adorable i hope you enjoy

you hover over peter on his bed, your lips on his. you’re wearing a new lip gloss today, and he’d wanted a taste of it. the kiss naturally lead to a make out session. your gloss is now smeared all over peter’s lips as they mold perfectly with yours. his hands slide under your shirt, warm palms resting on the skin of your upper back. you hum contentedly.

you place your hands on peter’s chest, leaning into him further to deepen the kiss. peter rubs your back gently and smiles against your lips.

“i love kissing you.”

he talks between kisses.

“i could kiss you all day.”

you giggle in response. you cup peter’s jaw, guiding his lips to yours. peter parts his lips and lets your tongue enter his mouth. your tongues move slowly together, keeping the kiss soft. your lips are practically attached at this point.

“dinner, you two!”

you hardly hear aunt may over the sounds of your kissing.

“come on, before it gets cold! you know that doesn’t take long with my cooking!”

you pull back first.

“did she say dinner?”

“yeah, but we must’ve heard wrong. it can’t be dinner time already.”

you check your phone for the time and gasp, clapping a hand over your mouth. peter sits up, brows furrowed.

“oh my god, peter! we actually have been kissing all day!”

“wait, what?”

he realizes you’re in darkness, crickets chirping outside his window.

“holy shit. the sun was still out when you got here.”

“that was… hours ago.”

peter wipes his lips with the back of his hand. his eyes are blown wide.

“have we really been making out that long? without any breaks? that’s a new record for us.”

“damn. gonna be hard to break it.”

“i’m up for the challenge.”

peter puckers his lips. you put a hand out to stop him, nose crinkling as you grin.

“after dinner maybe. my lips are sore.”

“want me to kiss them better?”

“ugh, peter.”

“alright, alright. hint taken.”

peter kisses the tips of your fingers.

“now that you mention it, my lips kinda hurt, too. i think you might’ve bit them by accident.”

“it wasn’t an accident. i thought it was hot.”

“a little more gentle next time, babe.”

“next time? so you liked it?”

“i like everything you do.”

you nudge peter’s cheek with your nose, nails lightly scratching at his chest. he fixes your shirt and gives your hips a squeeze.

“c’mon, may’s waiting for us.”

the two of you climb off the bed and make your way to the kitchen, where three places are set for dinner. may perks up when you enter the room.

“there you two are, you’ve been in there all day. what’re you up to?”

tags: @mystic-writings @just-lost-inbetween-worlds @lnmp89 @jenoslov @kayasholland @yourlocalomlette @starlight-starks @belovasheart @liltimmyst @eviewriites @hollandsangel @parkerctrl @eichenhouseproperty @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @varshhyy

i 100% agree

there’s only a few fic authors with quality stories that do it for me

is it just me or is the quality of fanfiction on this site just not as it was pre 2019