The Sun Is A Blue Moon

The Sun is a Blue Moon

A/N: So this started out as a headcanon thread that was hella long until I eventually decided to just write the thing. This may be one of my favorite things I’ve ever written. Let me know what you guys think. Oh, and yes there will be a part 2 ;)

Summary: A Hogwarts AU where Peter Parker falls in love with a Hufflepuff and it’s just tooth rotting fluff the whole time really.

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: social anxiety 

“Just breathe.” y/n exhaled, staring at herself in the mirror. 

It was her first day of sixth year at Hogwarts and she was a tangled knot of anxiety and nerves. Part of her still couldn’t believe she was actually there once again. It seemed like just yesterday someone was knocking at her door and telling her parents that she was a witch and was accepted to Hogwart, a school for witchcraft and wizardry. It had been a bumpy ride at the beginning, her parents not fully believing it for quite some time but eventually couldn’t deny the obvious. It was true and they all knew it. Y/N had always been different her entire life, with strange things happening around her that always made people stare at her. It was what made her such an anxious child and what made her social anxiety bloom into what it was. 

Smoothing down her robe and adjusting her yellow tie, she left the restroom and headed for her first class, keeping close to the walls and head down and continuing on with the same routine she’d had for the last several years. Sometimes she wished she could blend in with the walls and go unseen.

Divination was her first class and she found a seat further toward the back with no one in the companion seat and she headed right for it, hoping that that companion seat would stay empty. It had happened a couple times before and she hoped that she would get lucky in her second to last year and would have at least one class where she didn’t have to worry about talking to anyone. 

It wasn’t that y/n couldn’t speak, she could, really, but she just didn’t want to. She had a hard time with attention. Public speaking? All eyes on her? Saying something that would make people think she was a freak? Taking too long in line at the grocery store? Wearing something that would make her stand out? All a huge hell no with a capital H. Some nights she would hear girls laughing in the Hufflepuff commons and wish she could be part of that but she just didn’t know how. She was sure comradely was something she’d never attain.

As she was getting settled in her seat, the chair beside her that she had been vying for to stay vacant was pulled out with a scrape against the floor and she looked to see a girl with a red tie and corkscrew black hair that fell just past her shoulders smiling at her with perfect teeth. She wore large round glasses and her fingers were covered in rings with different gemstones in them. She looked like she listened to Stevie Nicks and drank black coffee and stared up at the stars for guidance. 

“Hi! I’m Winifred but everyone calls me Win!” She chipped as she sat down, setting her books onto the table with a small thud. The scrape of her chair made y/n cringe internally at how loud it was and the books had really made her worry. She glanced around the room to make sure no one was staring and relaxed a little when she found no one was. 

“I’m y/n.” she stated with a small nod, looking back down to her book that she was opening to the page listed on the chalkboard.

“Oh my god that’s, like, the cutest necklace I’ve ever seen! Did you get it in Hogsmeade?” Win asked, eyes bright. 

Swallowing, y/n wet her lips as her hand wrapped around the golden heart shaped locket she wore everyday for the last six years. “No. It was a gift from my dad. I don’t know where he got it.”

“It’s way cute.”

“Thank you.”

The entire class, Win talked and talked, going on and on about anything. She had talked about how her father was in the ministry of magic but her mom was her best friend. She talked about how hard sixth year was going to be but how excited she was to finally be a sixth year. Y/N was silent through most of it, only giving small nods and little hums. She appreciated that Win was more than happy to provide the conversation. Her favorite kinds of people were the ones who monopolized the conversation and Win was definitely one of those people.

“You should eat lunch with me and my friends!” She gasped as they were packing up for the next class of the day. “We’re all in different houses but we don’t have a Hufflepuff yet! Do you know Gwen Stacy?”

“Oh uh I know of her but I don’t really know her.” Y/N murmured, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“Well, she’s awesome and everyone will love you! We sit at the end of the Ravenclaw table. See you then y/n!”

Y/N was left blinking as Win floated out the door. She had no idea how she got roped into that and she was terrified but bubbling with excitement at the same time. She had no idea how long they would let a girl who would sometimes go days without uttering a single word sit with them in their group but she would enjoy it, if just for the one day. She usually ate lunch in the library so this would be different.

Half convinced that it was all a joke by the time lunch came around, she was ready to see no such group at the end of the Ravenclaw table, but there were several students with different colored ties right where Win had said there would be. It was real and she couldn’t back out now.

Tucking her hair behind her ear, y/n headed for the end of the table and felt a twinge when she saw that there was an empty spot next to Win.

“Y/N! Hey, girl! Come here!” Win called, eyes excited and a half eaten cookie in her hand. 

It felt easy to sit next to Win, but she struggled to keep a small smile as everyone in the group stared at her as she sat down. There was one boy in particular who she couldn’t even glance at because she knew she would be sporting red ears if she did. 

He sat directly opposite her and was a Ravenclaw, the blue tie half open and his robe falling off one shoulder. His mahogany toned hair was messy and floppy, like his hands were constantly in it but she liked the way it looked. She wanted to study his face and find the freckles she hadn’t seen in her glance at him and really find the accurate shade of his eyes- she had a thing for eye colors and finding their perfect shade. He was really beautiful and she wondered how she had gone six years without ever having seen him before. There was no way she would have forgotten him if she had. 

Win introduced y/n and explained that they had divination together. While Win chattered on, y/n’s hand wrapped around her locket, thumbnail toying with the clasp that kept it closed.

“Y/N, this is Gwen Stacy, Flash, Harry Osborn, MJ Watson, and Peter Parker.”

She waved, avoiding Peter’s stare before finally looking at him. True to her thoughts and her ears got hot and her stomach filled with butterflies. She worried if she opened her mouth they would fly out and tell Peter that she liked him so she merely waved and looked back to Win.

True to who she was, y/n stayed quiet most of lunch, nodding at times appropriate and trying to keep a smile on her face. She wanted to try and make friends and this was the best opportunity she had ever had so she was going to try and not completely fuck it up. She was almost seventeen years old and needed to try and overcome some of her shyness and social anxiety.

But she did take the risk a few times and looked over at Peter, taking in his square round glasses and the ink stains on his fingertips. How the sleeves of his wrinkled white button up were cuffed up. She had to put in effort to not pass out when he had taken off his robe and revealed his veiny forearms and rolled up sleeves. She could see the faintest bit of stubble on his chin that he must have missed when shaving. She took in the way he looked at everyone in the group, with a lax smile and warm eyes. She had decided they were the same color of the hazelnuts that grew on the tree in her parents front lawn.

It was on the third day of sixth year that y/n realized that Peter was in her astronomy class. He sat on the other side of the room with MJ. She didn’t think he noticed and she didn’t want to walk up to him randomly so she decided to wait and see if he noticed and if he cared at all. Even though she spent most of the class staring at his side profile whenever she knew he wouldn’t catch her. 

Two weeks later and y/n was walking into astronomy and Peter Parker was sitting in the seat next to hers where Romilda Vane had been sitting the last week. She stared at his back, her brain short circuiting. Maybe had wanted to talk before class started, she usually got in early since astronomy was after sunset and after dinner. She had no idea he even knew they had the same class together. They had just been sitting together at the same table not even an hour ago. He had smiled and waved at her like he did everyday. Why was he in the seat beside hers?

She walked up to her seat and as soon as she pulled her chair out, Peter looked up at her with that beaming smile that made her feel like a little bit of the sun had found its way into Peter Parker.

“Hi.” He greeted.

She bit her lip, trying desperately to find her voice that was so often lost at sea.

Peter seemed to sense your shyness. “Romilda asked to switch so she could be closer to the professor so she could hear better.” He explained. 

She nodded, sitting down and looking down with a wide grin. She knew that Romilda could hear just fine because this was the second time they were partnered in a class and she also preferred to sit toward the back of the room. 

Y/N felt like she was going to start floating at any minute because Peter, the boy she would daydream about and draw hearts around his name in her notebooks, had wanted to sit next to her and was going to be her astronomy partner for the rest of the year. Three nights a week they would spend an entire class together, and not just any class but her favorite class. She loved the night sky and the stars and she got to share that with Peter for an entire school year. 

Though she never spoke, Win’s group kept welcoming y/n to eat with them and she had even been invited to sit with them at the first quidditch game of the year. She bundled up in her Hufflepuff scarf and thickest coat but she had forgotten her gloves and her fingers were freezing shortly into the game and she blew into her hands, trying to keep them somewhat warm.

Peter was sitting directly beside her and nudged her, making her look at him in question. Wordlessly, he offered her a pair of gloves, an eyebrow raised. “I won’t need them.”

Opening her mouth to speak, she thought better and closed it before taking the knitted gloves hesitantly at first, but then mouthing a thank you with a soft smile and slipped them on. Peter smiled back at her and she tried not to notice that his fingertips were red with the cold.

The first time y/n finally spoke to Peter was in astronomy several days after they started sitting together. They were supposed to map out a specific constellation and since Peter was so smart and y/n really good at astronomy, they finished early and were sitting together by a large oak tree, y/n with her arms around her drawn up knees and Peter leaning against the trunk of the tree.

He was looking up at the sky and she kept looking at him, bathed in moonlight, fingers weaving in and out of the grass. She was starting to trust him like she’d only trusted a few people in her life. He made her feel seen and for some reason, she didn’t want to run away from it. Her entire life she had been running out of the spotlight and trying to hide in the shadows but Peter saw her and she didn’t want to hide in the shadows. At first, he made her more anxious than anyone else in the group because she liked him but now she didn’t feel anxious around him, instead she just felt safe. He didn’t ask her why she didn’t really talk or what was wrong with her and he didn’t push her to talk, either. He just took her as she was.

“What’s your favorite constellation?” She asked, eyes on the grass that she was still running her fingers through. 

Peter whipped his head down to her, lips parting and shock clouding his face. It was the first time he was hearing her speak ever. The words fell like bubbles from her rosy lips, each word careful and delicate, her voice a little rougher than he had imagined- but he still loved it just as much. He had been dying to find a way to get her to speak to him but didn’t want to push her because he knew she was just shy and probably had some kind of anxiety so he was fine with waiting until she was ready to speak. Even if she didn’t talk to him, he just wanted to be around her. Hufflepuffs always had good vibes but y/n had a warmth about her.

It was no secret within the rest of the group that he had a big giant crush on y/n, something Flash loved to tease him about. In fact, Peter had almost gotten into a physical fight with Flash when he first started teasing him about liking y/n because he thought he was making fun of him for liking her. Sure, she was quiet and didn’t really talk but he didn’t see anything wrong with that. Some people were so worried about being able to say what they wanted to say that they didn’t hear what others had to say. Y/N heard everything people needed to say, her twinkling eyes focused solely on whoever was speaking and her focus on what they were saying. She cared about what people had to say and truly listened. He had seen her kindness when he had been walking back to the Ravenclaw tower and watched her pick up a small caterpillar and find a nice home for it in the bushes, being gentle with it and patient. Maybe she didn’t speak very much but her actions spoke loud enough for him to get to know her. He always thought Hufflepuff’s were the purest of heart of all the houses.

Adjusting his glasses, he peered his head down to try and catch her eye so she would look at him. It worked and their eyes met. “It’s Perseus.”

Y/N rested her chin on her knees and nodded, one hand coming to tinker with the locket that rested below the hollow of her throat. “It’s a good one. I think mine’s Andromeda.”

“It’s a good one.” He retorted, making her chuckle. The silence took over and Peter couldn’t help but smile at her before looking at the sky again. 

“Have you seen Snape’s new haircut?”

He looked back down at her, thrilled she said something else. 

“Yeah.” He chortled. “Went a bit too short this time.”

“He’s giving Lord Farquad.”

The laugh that boomed out of Peter made y/n jump at first but then she remembered no one was around and she relaxed again, smiling wide because she had made Peter Parker laugh. It was deep and boisterous and she would probably never forget it.

“I wish everyone else knew how funny you are.” Peter mused, the remnants of his laughter still in his voice. “But I’m honored that I get to know.”

“Technically, you don't. I only said one funny thing. Maybe that’s all I’ve got.”

“Nah I know that you’re funny. Just a feeling.”

“Whatever you say, Parker.” She shrugged.

“Can I ask what made you finally talk to me?” 

Y/N thought for a moment before wetting her lips. “I guess I just really, like, trust you now. I don’t know. I’ve never felt safe around anyone before you. I feel like I could say anything to you and you wouldn’t judge me for it or think I’m weird, no matter what it is.”

“I like you too much to think you’re weird.” He blurted, before his eyes went wide and he cleared his throat, hoping she wouldn’t think too much into it.

But Peter had never been lucky and bit back a groan at seeing her eyes grow brighter and mouth fall open. “You like me?”

He couldn’t deny it, especially not to her. Not with the way she was looking at him with hopeful eyes and red cheeks and those stupid yellow finger-less gloves she wore that he always made him want to groan because it made her hands look ridiculously cute and small. Especially not under the stars when there was no one around and it was just them, the constellations ready to harbor their secrets.

“I have since I met you.” He bit his bottom lip, knowing his heart might be completely crushed in the next two seconds. “Do you…like me?” 

Y/N wasn’t afraid to open her mouth now because she could let the butterflies out. “Yeah. You make me feel safe, Peter.”

The moment was broken when they heard the call for the students to return and they stared at each other for a moment before getting up and gathering their papers that were off to the side. As they started walking back, Peter slipped his hand into hers and she looked up at him with a smile and squeezed his hand that was laced with hers. 

Peter walked her as far as he could go which was the same corridor as the kitchens. She stopped and turned to face him before pushing up on her toes to kiss him on the cheek. It made his heart thump in his chest and he barely processed when she pulled her hand from his and left, heading through the corridor and down the hall. His heart felt like it might burst in his chest. 

Y/N was feeling the same, even stopping when she knew she was out of sight of Peter to lean against the wall and just stand there with a love drunk smile, Peter taking over her head and her heart. She knew they had a lot of talk about like were they boyfriend and girlfriend now? Was she allowed to hold his hand whenever she wanted? But for that moment she just wanted to hold onto the glow coming from her heart over the fact that Peter Parker liked her and he had held her hand and she had kissed his cheek. She had spoken to him and now he was her best friend and she was completely in love with him.

To her surprise, the next morning when she left the corridor to go to her first class, Peter was leaning against a wall, blue tie loose and hair messy like she loved. He caught her eye and smiled at her, letting her make her way to him.

“Can I walk you to your class?” He asked and she couldn’t help but beam and nodded, reaching up to fix his tie. “You have Mcgonagall first and you know she’ll get you for your tie.”

When it was straightened out, she slipped her hand into his. She knew a few people might look at them holding hands, but she had also laid in bed the night before preparing for a few looks if they held hands or showed any small displays of affection. It wouldn’t last forever and that was the only thing keeping her from having an anxiety attack: it was just a few people and it would only be for a little while. She could get through it.

Peter walked her all the way to Divination and parted from her with a chaste kiss to her forehead. “Meet me in the library at lunch?”

“Kay.” She agreed, knowing she would meet him in the boys bathroom if he asked. 

Her classes passed at the pace of a snail. All she could think about was meeting Peter in the library. She knew they would probably talk about…them and she was beyond anxious but in a good way. She knew they would leave that library as boyfriend and girlfriend and if she was lucky, she would have had her first kiss because she was going to kiss him. She didn’t know how or when but she would kiss him if he didn’t kiss her first. It was nerve wracking to think about but she was going to try and be a little bit more bold when it came to Peter and their relationship, whatever that may be. 

When lunch rolled around, y/n headed for the library, small chips in her white nail polish from picking at it due to nerves. She looked around, trying to find Peter and shoulders falling into repose when she saw him in an aisle, robes off and hands toying with an open book.

She made her way over and he didn’t hear her coming until she was a couple feet from him. The smile he gave her made her melt.

“Hi.” She greeted. 

“Hi.” 

He slipped his hand into hers and she pulled him with her toward the cushioned window sill, the glass cold on her back. 

“Do you want some jellybeans?” He asked, pulling a baggy of jellybeans out of his pocket. It made her giggle in amusement that he just had a bag of jellybeans in his pocket at random but she nodded, taking the portion he poured into her hand and starting to pop them into her mouth, examining the handful.

“Wait? Are these the every flavor beans?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, putting several into his mouth. “But I made sure there weren’t any gross ones for you.”

“How?”

“Got a friend who came up with a way to find out what ones were the gross ones and he showed me how this morning.”

Her mouth was parted as she looked back down the handful of sweets, beyond touched that he had sorted through the jelly beans to pick out the gross ones just in case she wanted some of them.

Looking back to him, she splayed her hand on his cheek as he swallowed and leaned in. His breath hitched in his throat and she could smell the sugar on his breath before their lips even touched. She hesitated, giving him a second to stop her if he wanted as well as give her a second of doubt before that mental “fuck it” crossed her mind and she kissed him. 

It was soft and chaste, the small sound of their lips filling the silence around them. 

With buzzing lips, she pulled away just enough to break the kiss but brushed their noses together, Peter’s hand finding her neck, his thumb grazing her jaw. 

“Will you be my girlfriend?” He breathed, giving the corner of her mouth a peck. 

“What’s in it for me?” She mused, sarcasm lacing her tone. 

Peter picked up on it and smile softly, brushing hair hair behind her ear and pulling back a little bit. “Safe jelly beans for one. There’s also unlimited free kisses, I’ll help you with all of your homework, I have a very impressive collection of books that you’re free to at anytime.”

“Well how can I turn down the books?”

The laugh that slipped out of him made her kiss him again. She didn’t think she’d ever tire of kissing him.

Peter and y/n were inseparable after that. Where she went, Peter was right behind her, that lovesick smile on his face because let’s face it he was head over heels for her. He walked her to all her classes and they sat together at meal time, his arm around her waist or her leaning against his chest, his arm around her still. He wore her spare yellow and black striped scrunchie on his wrist pretty much always. When she forgot her robe, which was often, she wore his. He picked up the habit of speaking for her when she really, really didn’t want to. Like when she had a question in class but could barely think about raising her hand to ask and have everyone look at her, her voice being the only sound in the room. So when she had a question she would write it down and nudge Peter. He would read it and ask the question for her. Punch drunk love had nothing on Peter. He was well and truly gone for the Hufflepuff girl that most people didn’t notice. And while she barely said a word to anyone that wasn’t Win or Peter, she was herself when it was just her and Peter. She had a strong sense of humor and would make the most out of pocket, dry comments that always had him in stitches. She was affectionate with him, kissing the corner of his jaw often and calling him baby. He was special enough to be allowed to really see her and it was a gift he cherished. 

She did her little things for him too like keeping wipes on her for his ink stained fingers and always reminding him of where his glasses were when he couldn’t find them; they had been on his head one time and she could only put them back in place with a small smile and kiss the tip of his nose. She had put his picture in the empty side of her locket, the other side holding a picture of her mother and father. The day she had shown Peter he knew he would love her forever.

 She was there to clean his wounds when Peter punched a kid named Draco for calling another girl Mudblood, thus starting a fight. With a bloody rag in her hand that had just cleaned his bleeding cheekbone, she confessed to him that she was a full muggle-born with no magic in her family tree. He had kissed her and told her that he didn’t care if she was related to he who shall not be named; as long as she stayed who she was he would love her no matter what. She was the sunlight in his life to which she reminded him he was the moonlight in hers.

Y/N was slowly starting to come out of her shell through the school year. It started mostly with the group in small comments that she could add in. Everyone always simmered down to be able to hear her speak when she did, and Peter could always see how big of a deal it was for her. He knew all about her social anxiety and would squeeze her hand, letting her know she could do it and that he was right there if she needed him.

In their sixth year, Peter and y/n couldn’t have been happier. That was before all hell broke loose in Hogwarts.

my birthday is coming up and it just occurred to me to request tasm!peter birthday smut lmao. maybe sub!peter doing whatever the reader asks 🙏

all for the birthday girl

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing, nothing... Go on, keep going. Seduce me."

Pairing: tasm!peter parker x f!reader

Summary: by the end of the night, there's only one thing left to make this one the perfect birthday with peter

Warnings: SMUT!!! 18+!!! Oral (f and m receiving), fingering, birthday sex, unprotected sex, the absolute faintest sub!peter/praise kink, and all that good stuff

Words: 2.5k

A/N: happy birthday, anon, I hope I haven't missed it!!!! I feel like the smut I write is never really that explicit, especially compared to some of the stuff I've read, but for some reason this req was just calling for some shameless porn without plot and i thoroughly enjoyed it. hope you do too!!

p.s this is the first bj I've ever written, be nice to me <3

p.p.s, shout out to the above gif ^^^^ which i have now been thinking about for weeks.

request something! masterlist

Peter Parker is infuriatingly perfect.

As in, it's your freaking birthday and all you can think about is how thoughtful he is, how well he knows you, how he somehow complies a list of every offhand comment you make at store windows and never fails to find you the best gift.

He cooks you dinner, sets out your favourite flowers and plays your favourite songs, and by the time the night is exhausted, there's only one thing left on your mind.

"So, you still got a couple hours of this whole birthday thing left, huh?"

You're nestled comfortably into his side on the couch, his smile sly when you look up at him, so blatantly suggestive it makes you grin.

He takes offence at it, returns an amused smile and narrowed eyes. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing, nothing," You start, shaking your head, face never falling. You're fully turned towards him now, and, leaning against the arm outstretched along the back of the couch, you give his bicep a reassuring squeeze. "Go on, keep going. Seduce me."

It's Peter's turn to shake his head, rolls his eyes a little as he looks away, back at the credits rolling on the tv. "You're impossible."

"No! Come on." You move your arms around his neck, shuffle closer to make him look at you. "I'm sorry, did I foil your seduction? You know, after today it's really not necessary."

There's no response to that one, Peter's expression softening in the silence, slips an arm around your waist to hold you closer. Despite the teasing, there's no ignoring the intimacy of the moment, faces only inches apart, breath hot against skin.

It only takes a glance at your lips before he's kissing you, warm and soft and familiar, mouth slow against yours.

He pulls away first, smiles when he watches you bite your lip. "You've had a good birthday then?"

"The best," You whisper, impatient now, lean in to catch the kiss again. He obliges, free hand moving up to cup your jaw, helps him deepen it just a little. "I can think of one way it can still be improved, though."

"Now who's doing the seducing?"

You only smile at him, respond in the eagerness of the kiss when your lips find his again, let it flow like a dam bursting, like you've been waiting for this moment the whole night because you have. Because today even more than every other day has been filled with the kindness and the wit and the charm of Peter Parker, and every moment is just a moment closer to getting to kiss him like this.

The arm around your waist is pulling you closer, so much closer that you have to climb into his lap to achieve the contact, still somehow not close enough.

It only takes a few more minutes of you pressing into his lap before Peter's the one to get impatient. The hands gripping tightly behind your upper thighs should have been a clue, but soon enough Peter's standing, lifts you and holds you against him like it's nothing, one of the many perks of superhuman strength.

The sudden movement makes you gasp, the brief detachment giving him the opportunity to attach his lips to the side of your neck as he starts towards your bedroom, smiles against you when he feels the shiver the action earns.

By the time he's settling you onto the bed you're already breathing heavy, needy as you urge his face back up to yours, the kiss heavier, more urgent.

His hands are under your shirt now, grasping at your waist, sliding up and over your ribs, kneading at the covered flesh of your breasts.

You make the move to pull the fabric the rest of the way, toss it haphazardly on the floor before pulling him back down to you.

"Where do you want me?" With more open access to bare skin, Peter's lips travel down, find the dip at the base of your neck, kiss along one breast before he's sliding down a strap of your bra and taking a nipple into his mouth.

"Anywhere," You sigh, squirm under him at the sensation, warm and wet around the sensitive peak. "Everywhere."

"It's your day, sweetheart, all you gotta do is ask." He's watching you, your clouded eyes, the way your jaw falls slack when he circles his tongue around your nipple, and the sight goes straight to his cock.

"Want your mouth."

"Oh, yeah?" He asks, sly smile returning, kisses your sternum before looking up at you through those lashes. He slips his hand down then, cups your mound and presses his fingers against the seam of your jeans, the denim a torturous barrier between you and his touch. "Want it right here?"

All you can do is nod, the arch of your back involuntary, pressing against his hand, body chasing the slightest of contact he offers.

It's wordless, his movement down your body, kisses down your stomach before lowering himself on the floor, on his knees when his hands finally find the button of your jeans.

His eyes never leave yours, not as he's pulling down your jeans and your panties in one, or when he's hooking your knees over his shoulders, or when he's planting slow kisses along the inside of your thigh. It's a battle of nerve that you rapidly lose, because as soon as his tongue makes that first swipe over your clit your head is falling back against the mattress, his name spilling from your lips in a moan, eyes squeezed shut.

Normally, Peter takes his time with things like this, savours the taste of you, the heat, the way you squirm under his touch. Tonight, though, his mouth moves against you like you're his last meal, tongue swirling and tracing patterns over your clit, has your hand tangling into his hair and tugging at it sharply, the only anchoring force keeping your soul from ascending to a greater plane of existence.

It's an unexpected curse of his knowledge of your body, that all he needs is a few minutes of using his tongue just the right way to build up that knot in your stomach.

He has to hold your hips down when you start to move against him, jerk away, everything too good too fast, feel that burning ache spread through your entire lower half.

You were doomed from the beginning, but when he slips two fingers into you, curls them into the sopping velvet heat, you know you're done for.

"Pete-"

He wants to speak, wants to tell you how good you're doing for him, but he can also tell by the way you're clenching and fluttering around his fingers that you're right on the edge, and so all he does at the breathy sound of his name is hum against your clit.

It's the final straw, only takes one more curl of his fingers before you're coming apart, orgasm white-hot through your veins, hand fisted deep in his hair.

It leaves you so tight around his fingers he can hardly move them, keeps them deep inside you as he slowly crawls back up your body.

You kiss him as soon as he's close enough, drunk on the taste of yourself on his tongue, gasp against his mouth when he presses his palm against your over-sensitive clit.

"Wanna touch you."

He pulls away then, catches his breath as he looks at you, free hand brushing a loose lock of hair out of your eyes, touch feather-light across your face as he tucks it behind your ear. "It's your birthday, not mine."

You're still breathing a little too heavy, have to take a moment to regain your composure, not aided by the way he slowly slips his fingers out of you, feel the warm, sticky trail along your inner thigh. "Then you clearly have no idea what you do to me."

The sentence stops him in his tracks, makes him hold your gaze for a long while, mostly because he's so hard he's throbbing in his pants, and the thought of you still wanting to take care of him even on your birthday makes him impossibly harder. "Okay."

It makes you smile, twist your fingers into the collar of his shirt and pull him down into another kiss. "C'mere."

The same grasp on his shirt makes him follow you as you shuffle up the bed, finally pull it over his head when you tug at it, urge him to sit with a hand against his chest.

Back flush against the headboard, Peter once again finds you in his lap, bare this time, feels the wet patch that soaks through the fabric when you press against the tent in his jeans.

He only just has time to reach around and unclasp your bra before you're sliding down his body, letting the fabric fall from your arms and busying yourself with the button of his jeans.

You're on your knees, back to kiss him as he shuffles out of his pants, don't break away when your hand slips into his boxers, finds him just as hard as you had imagined.

The touch makes him groan into your mouth, that touch he's been craving, can't help the way he bucks into your hand as you start to stroke him achingly slow.

"Good boy." Your smile is devilish when you say it, moving back to bend down between his legs, revel in that slack expression on his face because you know what saying things like that does to him, keep that knowledge in your back pocket for nights just like this.

Peter never quite succeeds in bracing himself for the feel of your mouth around him, for the way you take him so firmly yet so softly in your hand, press the flat of your tongue on the underside of his cock, lick your way up the bulging vein there until you reach his tip, already leaking precum.

And then you're taking him all the way into your mouth, so warm and wet and all-consuming that it makes him throw his head back. You bite back the gag when you feel him hit the back of your throat, and then he makes that sound, the one you vye for whenever you start to touch him like this, the breathy whine that tries and fails to shape your name.

Peter thinks he sees stars when you start moving, hollowing your cheeks as you bob up and down his length, slow at first, sure to deftly stroke what you can't manage in your throat.

"Holy shit."

His hand's on the back of your head now, helps to guide your movements, fists into your hair when you start to speed up.

It's not until he musters the will to look at you that he knows he's a goner, finds you already looking at him and feels that familiar warmth spread through his stomach at the sight.

"Hey, hey, hey. Come up here." Peter's panting under you, grasp in your hair tugging lightly, hears that obscene popping sound as you pull away and moves his hand to your jaw. He brings you up to him, kisses you hard as you settle back into straddling his lap. "Can't expect me to give it up that quickly."

You smile into the kiss, satisfied by the flustered flush in his cheeks, hum at the way the taste of both of you melt together on your tongue.

"Gotta save it all for this pretty pussy."

It's so crude you have to breathe out a surprised laugh, smile wider against his own. "What a mouth on you, Parker."

He's already taken himself in his hand, feels you adjust over him to line him up with your entrance when he's pulling away to look up at you. "I thought you loved what I do with my mouth."

Any quip you had started to form dies away the moment Peter presses into you, watches your silent gasp as your mouth hangs open, lets you sink down onto him at your own pace.

The stretch of him is something you've never quite gotten over, the way he fills you up just right, like you're about to burst at the seams.

You sigh when you finally settle back into his lap, wrap an arm tightly around his neck as you feel him brace a hand against your back.

Peter groans into your shoulder when you start to move, the slow, languid rock of your hips against his.

The arm around his neck gives you purchase, leaning against him, bare chest flush against bare chest as the roll of your hips back and forth starts to speed up.

He kisses your neck, your collarbone, your shoulder, murmurs incomprehensible against your skin, sucks and nibbles and paints you in love bites, the sting the perfect contrast to the blooming pleasure in your stomach.

And then your hand is slipping back into his hair, tilts his head back so you can kiss him as you speed up yet again, gasps and open mouths.

"So good, Pete. So full, so so so-"

His thrusts are meeting yours now, makes you forget how to speak for a second, his free hand firm at your hip helping to glide you up and down his cock. The slap of skin against skin, the slick squelching, the gasps and the moans echoing around the room, everything pushing you further and further.

The feel of him twitch deep inside you is accompanied by the brush of his thumb against your clit, circles it and makes you throw your head back, adds to the way each thrust finds that perfect spot, nails digging into his shoulder.

"Fuck, Pete-"

"I know, baby," He cuts you off, makes you look down at him, and that blown, fucked out look in his eyes is enough to bring you impossibly closer. "I'm right there, sweetheart, want you to cum for me."

You don't need to be told twice, let one last roll of your hips bring you crashing down. The clench of you around him, pulsing and fluttering and moaning his name is all he needs to pull you firmly against him, stilling as his orgasm rakes through his body, cumming hot and deep inside you.

He buries his face into the crook of your neck, both arms wrapping firmly around your waist, fingers splayed wide against your back, feels the way your chest heaves against his.

It's a long while before either of you have enough composure to look at each other. You smile at each other when you finally do, breathe laughs into the next kiss.

"Happy birthday, baby."

request something! masterlist

Hi folks just wanted to give an update on where I’ve been. My mom was recently diagnosed with an aggressive cancer and I’ve been not only taking care of her and providing support but also struggling with it myself. I’ve just been too stressed and worried and weighed down to write much but I hope within the coming weeks the rocking of my world will settle. Just wanted to give a little update and for you to know I haven’t abandoned this little blog:)

Just realized I had anon disabled sorry about that guys! all fixed now

I don’t think you understand how just gosh darn slap your knee excited I am for this

Bro I woke up sad af - BUT imma write a fic where Peter busts down a door at a party saving reader from a handsy jerk. I’m very excited. Protective Peter does something to my insides….

Also, happy Friday!

Oh Daisy, I’m sorry to hear how tough things have been. Sending you and your mom my love 🌻💛 —v

Thank you V 🖤 We’re all remaining very optimistic about the future and her treatment. I appreciate the message so much 🥺

My first mutual! Can i request Peter walking in on you playing guitar and singing and he didnt know you could sing???? And he’s floored???? Thanks!! 🥺 - justnotforbread🕸🍞

A/N: thank you for this request I loved every second of writing this! Hope you like it!

Beautiful Stranger

Y/N was someone who was naturally very artistic and creative. Classes would be spent by drawing little doodles in her notebook or on whatever piece of paper was on her desk at the time. Teachers would often discourage it, knowing it meant that she hadn’t been paying attention at the time. She took art as her elective several times over even though she had been encouraged by school counselors to branch out and try other things. She always customized whatever she could to her liking, especially the things she wore on her body. Her room had been a wall of posters and art she made and photos of things she liked and people she looked up to.

She had a notebook full of little thoughts she had and poems of all kinds. There were some poems about her parents and some about whatever boy she was crushing on at the time and some about how hard life was. It wasn’t until her later teen years that she started writing songs.

They were purely for her and used as her own creative outlet as well as a form of therapy. The navy blue notebook that she kept these songs in was buried in her backpack and hidden under the mattress, never wanting her parents to find it.

It wasn’t until she was nineteen and moved out that she picked up her first guitar at a small thrift store. It was older and had more than likely seen quite a few hands but she was drawn to it. Her little song writing hobby could become a song making hobby and she could do something with the dozens of songs she had written over the years.

Learning how to play had been harder than she thought it would be but she persisted, spending nights playing the same three chords over and over again until she had them down to a muscle memory. Deep Purple’s Smoke on the Water had been the first song she learned and was able to play without messing up once and that fueled her to persist with the goal of being able to craft her own song.

Months later and she was sitting on her bed, making her own music and writing down the chords as she went so she wouldn’t forget. More songs came after that and she kept them in the same navy blue notebook she’d had for years that was specifically reserved for songs lyrics, and now the music to go along with those lyrics.

Singing was something she enjoyed as well. She knew she could hold a tune but she didn’t think she was the best singer or anything, and it didn’t matter. She sang for herself so to her it didn’t matter if she wasn’t amazing. It wasn’t like American Idol was in her future dreams. So she never sang in front of anyone except her childhood cat who happened to be in the room when she was singing.

There had been a couple years that she went into a lull and didn’t write as many songs as she once had, especially not after her guitar was stolen when her apartment was broken into while she was at school one day.

Then she met Peter Parker.

Peter with those eyes that reminded her of fall leaves and warm sweaters and baked goods and his hugs that made her feel like she was stepping out into the sunlight and the way he called her sweetheart in the middle of the night when he was getting into bed after patrol and she was half awake and welcoming him into their bed. Peter with his desperate need to do good and a hero complex that was so strong it put the weight of the world on his shoulders. Peter who kissed the tip of her nose when it was red from the northern cold and woke up early before her to make her coffee for her so that it would be ready when she woke up and always let her have the last Oreo.

Peter Parker had y/n writing songs again. They ranged from the way he made her wanna crack her chest open for him and give him her heart and how he was like a sun drop that slipped from the sun itself to light up her world and how his pleasurable touch made her wonder if that was what dying felt like. Some got specific like the one titled His Jacket about the night they went out and she didn’t bring a jacket but got cold and he gave her his green one. It had been far too big on her and the sleeves went past her hands but it was so warm and smelled like him. It made her feel oddly safe even though he was right next to her and she hadn’t wanted to take it off. When he wasn’t home she would sometimes wear it and just feel so warm and safe. Some weren’t as specific and more about their relationship in a broad sense, going on about how they would sometimes just look at one another and know what the other was feeling. Some of the songs were proper songs with three verses and three choruses and some were quite short with just a short verse and a chorus and a repeat of the chorus once more before ending.

It was late February when y/n got her tax refund and she eagerly made her way to the pawn shop down the street after work, buying a used acoustic before heading home to the empty apartment. Peter had plans to go on patrol right after his work day was done due to a serial rapist who had started upstate and in the last few days made his way down to the city. It had kept Peter up at night. She was worried about him but trusted Spider-Man to make sure Peter Parker came home to her every night.

As soon as she was home she was grabbing her notebook and fishing a new pick out of the pack she had just bought and made a workspace out of the living room floor, notebook out and open.

The feeling of the strings on her fingertips was so familiar but still a little out of place. It was like visiting somewhere that you once frequented but hadn’t been there in years so it felt different yet the same all at once.

Forming the song only took a couple hours or so before she was running through her first play through. It took a few more run-through's before she felt comfortable with the order of the chords.

After a short break to get a drink and make dinner, she was sitting back down and putting the acoustic back in her lap, pick between her fingers. She knew it was getting late but she felt like she was just getting started and she knew Peter wouldn’t be home for a while longer.

Peter landed gently on the fire escape, not wanting to wake y/n if she was already asleep. It wasn’t very late but she was known to have early nights and be out by ten so on nights that he didn’t know if she was asleep already he was extra quiet.

Slipping in through the unlocked bedroom window, he found their room empty but he had already heard her moving around in their living room when he started opening the window. Sliding past the curtain, he was in the bedroom and closed and locked the window behind him before taking off his mask.

He had had an early night, catching the upstate rapist much earlier in his shift. He had been trying to catch the guy for the last week and finally got him before he could ruin another woman's life. He felt relief in knowing he wouldn’t be going to bed that night wondering if the serial rapist was out there and hurting someone. Spider-Man had made New York a safer place for at least tonight and that would grant Peter a good night's sleep- if just for tonight.

As Peter was heading to leave the room, he heard the strum of a guitar and stopped, listening and wondering why he was hearing a guitar. He only counted one heartbeat so it wasn’t someone else playing. It had to be y/n.

The strum turned into a song and he took the remaining steps to be able to see out into the living room past the corner. Y/N was sitting on the floor with an acoustic guitar in her lap, looking down at it and fingers moving nimbly across the strings.

Leaning against the door frame, Peter watched and wondered why she had never told him she knew how to play. How had they been together for an entire year and he didn’t know this about her? The guitar had to be new because she didn’t have one before. He had personally moved most of her stuff when they were moving in.

Peter’s breath fell from his lungs when she started to sing.

“I grab your hand and then we run to the car, singin’ in the street and playing air guitar. Stuck between my teeth just like a candy bar and I wonder if it goes too far to say I’ve never recognized a purer face. You stopped me in my tracks and put me right in my place. Used to think that lovin’ meant a painful chase but you’re right here now and I think you’ll stay.” She sang.

He was just in awe; he was wonderstruck. Her voice was so soft and so beautiful and steady and he hated that he hadn’t been graced by it for the last year. Then there was the matter of the lyrical content that made his heart feel like it might turn into goo. It was absolutely her own original song that was about them because a couple months ago they had been at one of y/n’s friends’ parties and they were leaving when a song that they both loved came on. The music was so loud they could still hear it from outside and had jammed out to it together, air guitar having been part of that. It was one of his favorite moments in time with her and now one of his fondest memories.

He didn’t understand why she was working her current nine to five job when she had this talent.

He tried not to be a little hurt that he didn’t know anything about this but he also knew that he had hidden Spider-Man from her for the first six months. He couldn’t exactly judge her.

“Oh we’re dacin’ in my livin’ room and up come my fists and I say I’m only playing but the truth is this: I’ve never seen a mouth that I would kill to kiss. And I’m terrified but the truth is this: I said beautiful stranger here you are in my arms and I know that beautiful strangers only come along to do me wrong. And I hope, beautiful stranger here you are in my arms and I think it’s finally, finally, finally, finally, finally safe for me to fall.”

Peter’s eyes pricked with tears as he leaned against the door frame, throat tight and wanting nothing more than to drop to his knees in front of her and kiss her so hard that it would be able to make her feel what he was feeling which was awe, astonishment, adoration to name a few. He was also incredibly overwhelmed by how beautiful she was; sitting there in that black NYU hoodie that he knew she’d gotten on her first day with a strand of her hair falling in her face from the bun that was piled on her head and her face clear of any makeup and singing about she felt safe enough to fall because she knew he would catch her. He would always catch her. At the end of the day his most important job was protecting her. Spider-Man meant nothing if he couldn’t keep y/n safe. The final strum made him wipe at his glassy eyes and he eyed the blue notebook that was open in front of her. He had seen it a couple times but assumed it was something to do with work like a planner or a calendar. It apparently harbored every feeling she had ever felt about him, about them.

Not wanting to startle her, he breathed her name.

Still, she jumped and her head whipped in his direction. “Jesus.” She gasped. “What the fuck are you doing home so early?”

“Finished early tonight. Thought I might come home and try to see you before you went to sleep.”

Y/N was silent for a moment before nodding. “How long have you been standing there?”

He smiled fondly. “Long enough to hear the most beautiful song I’ve ever heard in my life.”

Y/N groaned and buried her face behind her guitar in her lap.

Stalking forward, Peter sat across from her. “Why didn’t you tell me about…any of this?”

She looked up, ears red with embarrassment and lips pursed. “I’ve never shared it with anyone.” She shrugged. “Not even my parents. It’s something I do for me and when I met you…I was more inspired than I ever have been in my life. I may not be the best singer or songwriter but it’s so therapeutic.”

Cupping her face, he brushed the strand of hair away with his thumb. “I feel like I should have paid admission to see that that’s how beautiful your voice is. And that song? You wrote that?”

She smiled sheepishly. “Wrote it the morning after Anna’s party. You were still sleeping and I just…you make me feel so safe, Pete.”

“Well, I am Spider-Man.” he chuckled.

“That’s not it. I know you’re not gonna break my heart. I just know it. I don’t know how but I do. You have no idea how many songs I’ve written about us and-and about you. Last year this thing wasn’t even halfway filled and now it’s only got a few blank pages left.”

He closed the gap and kissed her hard in a mismatch of lips and the need to show her how much he loved her in a way he could. He didn’t know how to make a song but he wanted to so badly in that moment just so she could truly understand how he felt about her because what he just heard made him know truly how she felt about him.

“Play it again.” He breathed against her lips.

“I’ll play it as many times as you want.”

Okay but the Peter Parker HP AU was beautiful 🥺 I’m a ravendor mostly ravenclaw but I could relate to Peter so well!!!!! AHHHHHH

Thank you for this message it was like a punch to the heart but a very good punch I’m so happy you could relate and that you like it 🖤

Live footage of me writing this for V and V only

What if I told you I was working on a prompt for Ravelclaw!Peter and Hufflepuff!reader? What then V?

Well Daisy, I’d have to scream and jump and worship the very ground you walk on because YES PLEASE

Me with part two of the sun is a blue moon

thinking about my fic in the shower:

trying to actually write my fic: