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peterparkers-bad-youtube-apology · 2 years

Note

pool party and frat!richkid tom with ”They’re hitting on you.”

You got it babe! Sorry it took me so long, I just needed a little week off but I am back not and more and more fics are incoming. Hope you enjoy, let me know what you thought, love you xxx

First Mate

67 - “They’re hitting on you.”

Pairing: Frat!Tom x Reader

Warnings: Jealousy

Summary: Tom throws a party with special plans for you and him, unfortunately someone else also has their eye on you

Regular Masterlist

Summer of Love Prompts

Summer of Love Masterlist

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One of the first things you’d learned about Tom was that he really excelled with coming up with stupid party themes. It would have been a totally useless talent if he didn’t live in a frat, where stupid parties happened every other night. His latest idea was a nautical themed party which he called his ‘Get Nauti’ party, you found it all incredibly cheesy. Nevertheless you agreed to be the first mate of the party, even though you weren’t really sure what that meant. It was just that when Tom looked at you with his big puppy dog eyes you found it nearly impossible to say no.

“(y/n)!” Tom ran out front as soon as he saw your car arrive, he was wearing only a pair of short, teal swim trunks, and a captain’s hat. He looked good, really good, it was always a good day when you got to see Tom parade around shirtless, “There’s my first mate.”

You smiled back at him, “Hi Tom.”

“This is for you,” he placed another matching captain’s hat on your head and looked you up and down. You’d picked up a new bikini for the occasion, white with small blue flowers covering it. You’d felt great when you put it on at the store but his gaze made you nervous and squirmy, “You look great.”

“Thanks,” you adjusted the hat, making sure it was secure on your head, “So what are my duties as first mate?”

“There’s just one actually, you’ve got to help me win the flip cup tournament,” he smiled hopefully at you.

You groaned, “I’ve got to drive home tonight Tom, I can’t get wasted.”

‘You can stay with me,” he grabbed both of your hands, “Please? Haz and I need you, you’re the best flip cup player I know.”

You hummed, pretending to really weigh your options, “Fine, but only because you appealed to my ego.”

He grinned ear to ear, “Thank you darling, I owe you.”

“Yeah you do,” you agreed, “I’m gonna have to steal some clothes for bed though, I didn’t bring anything else.”

“Not even a sweater?” he clicked his tongue and tossed his arm over your shoulders as he walked you inside, “How irresponsible of you.”

“School years over Tom, I don’t have to be responsible again until the fall.”

“Really? Planning on having a totally wild summer love?”

“Yeah, totally,” you laughed, “And guess who has to babysit?”

“Well unfortunately I’m also planning on having a really wild summer so I guess Haz will have to babysit us both,” he waved to Harrison and some other boys as you stepped into the living room, “You got the tournament all set up Haz?”

Harrison nodded, “Yeah, everything’s good to go.”

“Wonderful,” Tom beamed, “Hope you’re both ready to win.”

“It’s about having fun Tom,” Harrison teased, “Let’s not get too competitive.”

“Only losers complain about things being too competitive,” Tom bit back, “You’re with me right darling?”

You nodded, “Always.”

“That’s my girl,” he smiled proudly.

The frat began to fill up quickly, everytime you glanced towards the door more and more people were piling inside. Soon the place was packed and the entire block was lined with cars. Music was pounding and every table, counter, and window sill was lined with beer cans and plastic cups. Tom kept you close to him like always, and Harrison ended up introducing you to some friends he’d invited from work. They were nice enough, but of course Tom was the only one holding your attention.

“Shit,” Tom glanced down at his phone, “Tournaments supposed to start in just a few, I’ve got to slip away for just a moment but I’ll be back alright?”

You nodded, “Yeah, no problem.”

You watched as he grabbed Harrison and they slipped away into the crowd, leaving you alone with Harrison’s friends. You stood awkwardly for a moment, your eyes darting down to the cup of water in your hand. That was when one of the boys, you were pretty sure his name was Hunter, decided to start talking to you.

“So are you and Tom, like, together?” he asked.

“Oh, uh, no,” you flushed, “We’re just friends.”

“Cool,” he nodded, “So you’re single then?” he raised a brow hopefully.

You were tempted to tell him no, because you weren’t interested in getting hit on by him in the least, but you ended up nodding, “Yeah.”

“Cool, me too,” he grinned at you, “I like your hat by the way.”

“Thanks, Tom got it for me,” you pursed your lips, “Hunter right?”

He nodded, “Yeah, and you’re (y/n).”

Hunter was cute enough, a muscular boy with short blond hair and a cocky smile, but he wasn’t nearly as cute as Tom, and you could already tell he wasn’t as charming either.

“That’s me,” you took a long drink of your water, “I should probably go meet up with the boys actually, we’re all on a team together.”

“Too bad, I totally would have had you on my team,” his eyes wandered up and down your body, “Hopefully we’ll end up playing each other.”

“Yeah, hopefully,” you agreed before spinning on your heels.

You scanned the party in search of Tom, Harrison, or any of your other friends. You spotted Harrison just outside of the back door and began pacing towards him. Outside people were gathering around a large folding table where the flip cup tournament would take place, and Tom was attempting to get the first two teams ready to play.

“I can’t believe he set up a whole tournament for this,” you mumbled, crossing your arms as you joined Harrison by the backdoor.

“I think he just did it because he wants to have bragging rights all summer,” Harrison chuckled and glanced down at you, “Couldn’t stay away huh?”

“Actually one of your friend’s started hitting on me,” you explained.

“I see,” he smirked, “Which one?”

“Hunter.”

“Ah, yeah you’re definitely his type,” he glanced back towards Tom, “But I guess he’s not really yours is he?”

You shook your head, “Definitely not.”

Harrison bit his cheek and smiled knowingly to himself, “He’s got us up next, you ready?”

“Come on Haz, you know I’m never the one dragging us down.”

“Tom hasn’t drank anything today, he should be good to go,” Harrison chuckled, waving to Tom as he blew a whistle for the two teams to start.

Harrison’s work friends came to join you both outside as the boys at the table began pounding back their beers. Hunter moved next to you, standing a way too close for someone who just met you.

“They’re not half bad,” he commented as the second players picked up their cups, “Not as good as though.”

“I wouldn’t plan on getting too far tonight,” Harrison smirked, “We’ve got a pretty unbeatable team lined up, right (y/n)?”

“Yeah,” you mumbled, too busy watching Tom to really pay attention to what they were talking about, “Totally.”

Tom was having fun playing referee, but his eyes kept darting back to you and Harrison. He watched as Harrison’s friends gathered around you two and Hunter leaned in towards you. He was way too close for Tom’s liking, so Tom ran back to your little group and cut between you two, setting a hand on your back as he spoke.

“Hope you two are ready, we’re about to be up,” he smiled at you and Harrison.

You grinned, “I think you should be asking yourself that Tommy.”

“Don’t worry about me darling, I’ll be just fine,” he assured you, “Hunter you should take notes, maybe you’ll actually be able to win a round.”

“A round? I’m planning on taking the whole thing,” he smiled cockily.

“Oh I’m sure you’ll give it your best try,” Tom ran the back of his fingers up your spine before his hand left you. One of the teams playing flipped their final cup and began yelling excitedly, Tom was quick to usher you away, “Come on, come on, let’s go.”

“Calm down Tom,” you laughed, “It’s been like five seconds since they won.”

“Yes well I’m very eager,” he pinched your side playfully as you approached the table, “Now get your game face on darling, they need to know how serious we are about this.”

Tom, Harrison, and you all lined up on one side of the table with you in the middle of the two boys.. Things were tense, you were up against one of Tom’s frat brothers and a set of twins from a local sorority. Each of you set your cup on the edge of the table and filled it with your drink of choice. The entire time you were setting up Tom was watching Hunter watch you, Hunter’s eyes hadn’t left you for even a second, and it was starting to get under Tom’s skin.

“Tom,” you nudged his side when you noticed him staring off at the crowd, “You good?”

Everyone was ready to go, just waiting for Tom to blow the whistle and start the game. His cheeks flushed with embarrassment and he cleared his throat before speaking.

“Yeah, sorry,” he blew the whistle around his neck and yelled, “Go!”

Harrison was up first, he downed his drink and managed to flip his cup in two tries, giving you a decent advantage. You matched his speed, downing your drink and flipping your cup on your second try. Tom was faster than chugging than both of you, but he always fell apart when it came to actually flipping the cup. You bit your lip nervously as he began, watching him flip the cup three times before he came close, finally he got it on his fifth try, just a second before the girl across from him landed hers.

“Yay!” you cheered, holding your hand up to high five both of the boys, “I’ve never seen you get it that fast Tom.”

“I’ve been practicing,” he winked and snatched both of your cups off the table and glanced over your shoulder. Hunter was still watching you, and the last thing he wanted was for you to walk back over there so he could hit on you, “You want to help me referee the next round?”

You shook your head, “That’s alright, you have your fun Tom, I’m happy to wait on the sidelines.”

“Ah, come on love, I’ll let you blow the whistle,” he tried to tempt you, dangling the whistle in front of your face.

“Ew, it’s got your mouth germs all over it,” you laughed and pushed it away.

“Oh what? So now you don’t like my mouth germs?” he grinned.

You rolled your eyes, “No, I’m gonna go wait with Haz alright?”

“Alright,” he pursed his lips, watching you return to the crowd with Harrison.

Hunter was on you in a second, congratulating you on your win and cracking shitty jokes. Tom was happy to see that none of his poor attempts to make you laugh seemed to be working, but he still didn’t like watching you two together. He had plans for how the night was going to go. You would win the tournament together and then Tom would kiss you, prompting a long and loving relationship between the two of you that would eventually develop into a marriage with three, maybe four kids, and a few dogs. Hunter didn’t have a place in Tom’s big life plans, and he certainly wasn’t about to make room for him either.

“You want another drink sweetheart?” Hunter peaked down at your empty cup, again standing too close to you.

You fought your urge to roll your eyes at the pet name and shook your head, “I’m good, I don’t want to get too drunk before the tournament ends.”

“Ah, strategizing,” he nodded, “Good plan, unfortunately I don’t have that kind of self control,” he raised his glass towards you.

“Is that something for you to brag about?” you chuckled.

“I think that was more of a confession than a brag,” he bit his cheek, “I don’t think anyone brags about a lack of self control.”

Tom watched as you started to laugh with Hunter, a real, genuine, heartfelt laugh. That was the last straw for him. He clenched his hands at his side and cleared his throat before he went stomping towards you.

“Hey, Hunter, you and your friends are up next alright?” Tom slapped a hand on his back much harder than he needed to, “You should probably start getting ready.”

“Uh, yeah, totally,” he agreed, “We’ll get up there.”

“Good call,” he waved to him as he walked away and stepped in to fill the spot at your side, “Harrison do you mind reffing this round?” he pulled the whistle from his neck and passed it over to Harrison.

“Sure,” Harrison took the whistle from him with a smirk.

You frowned, “Really? You seemed like you were having fun.”

“I was, but I’d rather hang out with you,” he shrugged, watching as Harrison started blowing the whistle and giving orders, “Having fun with the boys huh?”

You shrugged, “Sure, they’re fine.”

“They’re hitting on you,” he blurted out, his cheeks flushing pink as he waited for you to say something, you just seemed confused so he continued, “Well not all of them, but Hunter is.”

“I know, I’m not totally oblivious Tom,” you stated plainly, giving no indication as to whether you enjoyed the boys flirting or not.

“Well are you into it or..?” he pressed.

You locked eyes with him, he was smiling but he seemed annoyed. It almost seemed like jealousy, but it was hard to tell because you’d never seen Tom jealous before. If he was jealous though, it’d mean he felt the same way as you did. The thought made you feel giddy and hopeful, so you decided to play a little coy to see if you could confirm your suspicions.

“Do you two have beef or something?” you cocked your head innocently.

“What? No, of course not,” he rolled his eyes, making it extremely obvious that there was something more there, “Just, you know, might be a little awkward when he finds out you’re going to be sleeping in my bed tonight.”

You laughed, “Well I wasn’t planning on going home with him or anything, but if I was, I probably wouldn’t tell him that.”

“Well if you were planning on seeing him at all he probably wouldn’t like how close we are just in general,” Tom hummed.

You two both fell silent, but the look in his eyes made you feel like he was interrogating you. Your gut told you it was jealousy, but part of you thought that was just wishful thinking on your part, that you were just seeing what you wanted to see.

“Are you?” Tom questioned after you didn’t respond, lifting his brows while he waited for your response.

“Am I what?” you frowned.

“Planning on sleeping with him?” he continued.

“No, I just told you I wasn’t.”

“Good,” he nodded and crossed his arms and turned back to the game.

You knit your brows and dragged your eyes away from him. Hunter’s team blew the other out of the water, having all three cups flipped before they even finished their second. The three boys jumped and cheered and began high fiving one another before returning to the sidelines. As soon as Hunter approached you Tom’s arm slipped around your waist and drew you closer to him.

“Told you we were pretty good right?” Hunter grinned as he approached you.

“That was pretty good,” you nodded in agreement.

Tom wore a tight lipped smile, his eyes narrowed at the boy in front of him, “It was decent.”

Again it seemed like Tom was jealous, but you wanted to be sure that it was really jealousy and not just him being protective or something. So you decided to play it up, just a little bit, hoping he would do or say something that would confirm your suspicions.

“Hey Hunter, I think I’ll take you up on that drink now,” you smiled up at him and pulled Tom’s hand off of your waist.

Tom’s eyes widened just a tad while Hunter’s lit up excitedly, “Cool, let’s go grab a drink then.”

“Come on,” you nodded for him to follow you inside.

You tried to watch Tom watch you but it was hard to keep your eyes on him with Hunter hovering so close to you. You made sure to giggle extra hard at everything he said and set your hand on his arm while he walked you back outside. You spotted Tom right away, he was watching the door, obviously waiting for you to return. He tensed when he spotted your hand on his arm, his eyes narrowed to a glare as you two approached him. He reached out for you as soon as you were near him, setting his arm over your shoulders and drawing you in close.

“How’s your drink?” he hummed.

“Fine,” you swirled your cup and took a small sip, “Did you know Hunter’s on the water polo team?”

“Wow water polo? Really? How fascinating,” he stated plainly.

You were sure he was jealous now, he had to be, there was no other reason he’d be acting so rude to one of Harrison’s friends.

“Tom I need you to take over man,” Harrison came jogging to you, shoving the whistle back into Tom’s hands, “I need a bathroom break before we’re up again.”

Tom’s cheeks tinted pink and he nodded, “Come up with me darling, everyone likes having a pretty judge,” he pulled you away with him before you had a chance to answer, promptly ending your time with Hunter.

You were smiling as he dragged you back over to the table where the game was being plaid. On the table there was a small clipboard with a list of the different teams and rounds that were supposed to be played that night. Tom plucked it off the table as people began lining up for the next round. He started scribbling away on the board, blowing the whistle without even glancing upwards. You frowned and tried to peek at what he was doing.

“Why are you changing things now?” you questioned.

“Well I just thought you might like to play against Hunter’s team next round,” he smiled bitterly at you, “Since you two are just best pals now.”

You frowned, “Best pals? I just grabbed a drink with him.”

“And you said you weren’t planning on sleeping with him,” he scoffed.

“I’m not,” it was hard not for you to smile or laugh, “I’m planning on sleeping in your bed remember?”

He locked eyes with you for a moment, “Good, you can tell him when we play each other, we’re heading up next.”

“Next?” you raised a brow.

He nodded, “Yeah, I’m really eager to go again,” he set the clipboard down and turned his attention to the people playing, “Come on Josh! I know you can drink faster than that!”

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms before you started to cheer for some of the boys with him. It wasn’t like you were trying to piss him off or something, just figure out if he was jealous or not. A wave of guilt hit you and you began to worry that you might have seriously upset him.

“Tom,” you grabbed his arm, “When Harrison gets back I need to talk to you for a second, privately.”

He hummed and shook his head, “No can do love, we’re playing next round.”

“Tom come on, just leave the roster how it is,” you attempted to take the clipboard from his hands but he wouldn’t budge, “People are gonna get mad if you start changing it now.”

“Too bad, my party, my rules,” he smiled smugly at you

“Throwing the party doesn’t give you an excuse to be a dick,” you bit back.

“Oh yeah, I’m being such an asshole,” he rolled his eyes, “I’m not the one who’s been flirting with some douche all night.”

“So?” you knew you should probably drop it there but you didn’t, you wanted to hear him say it out loud, “What’s wrong with a little harmless flirting?”

His eyes narrowed to a glare, “You already know what.”

“No I-”

“Great job guys!” Tom cut you off and clapped Josh on the back as his team one, “Amazing really. Okay next up it’s gonna be me, Haz, and (y/n), against Phil, Travis, and,” he cleared his throat, “Hunter.”

Harrison frowned at him from the sidelines, “Uh, I thought there were still a couple groups ahead of us.”

“Well you know, things change Haz, we’re up now,” he gave a tight lipped smile, “Come on boys, we don’t have all night.”

Everyone that was gathered to watch the game seemed confused, and your face flushed with embarrassment as you stepped up to the side of the table. You were in the middle of Tom and Harrison again, with Hunter standing right across from you. He winked at you as he topped off his cup.

“Hope you aren’t too crushed when we beat you sweetheart,” he purred.

“Shove off Hunter,” Tom scoffed, “Everybody ready?”

“No, everyone’s still filling their cups Tom, calm down,” Harrison looked him over and raised a brow in concern, “You alright mate?”

“Yes, I just want to win,” he huffed.

“Right…” Harrison glanced at you and then back to Tom, “You just seem a little tense.”

“I’m good,” he replied dryly.

“We’re all good over here,” Hunter spoke up again once his teammates had both topped off their cups, “So we’re ready whenever you guys are.”

“Great. Haz are you ready?”

Harrison nodded, “Sure.”

Tom blew the whistle without another word, and watched silently as Harrison chugged his glass. He drank faster than the boy across from him, but took three tries to flip his cup, so you were only a second ahead when you lifted the glass to your mouth. You chugged as fast as you could and managed to flip your cup on your first try. Tom was able to start far before their final teammate, and while he chugged fast, you could tell right away he was going to slip up when it came to actually flipping his cup. He always did when he got too competitive or drunk, he’d tense up and end up flipping the cup way too hard. Normally it was funny, but he seemed genuinely angry now, and you felt awful. You watched as he flipped his cup again and again, he wasn’t even close by the time the boy across from him finished chugging his glass, losing any advantage you had.

They ended up beating you, right away they started to cheer and tease. Harrison high fived them all but Tom didn’t. Normally he was a good sport, but tonight he had no interest. He just passed the whistle over to Josh and declared him the new referee before disappearing inside the house.

“Tommy…” you sighed as you watched him leave, debating whether you should go after him. Of course you wanted to, but you were worried he wouldn’t want you around if he was upset with you.

“You did great,” Hunter complimented, “Too bad Tom blew your lead, but good for me so…”

You rolled your eyes and shoved right past him to go find Tom. He was retreating up the stairs when you entered the house, undoubtedly heading for his bedroom. You followed after, pushing through the crowd as quickly as you could.

“Tom?” you rapped gently at his door, “Can I come in?”

For a second it was quiet, then he swung the door open, “Look I’m not feeling great (y/n), I’m just gonna call it a night okay?”

“Tom please don’t, you were super excited about this party, you shouldn’t miss it,” you tried tugging him out of his room, “Come on, I’ll go home if you don’t want to see me.”

He furrowed his brows, “I don’t want you to go home I-” he stopped himself mid sentence and cocked his head, “I’m not upset with you (y/n).”

You blushed again, “It’s okay if you are Tom.”

“I’m not, of course I’m not,” he rubbed the back of his neck, “Tonight’s just not going how I thought it would.”

“Well, do you want to talk about it?” you tried stepping closer, but he didn’t open the door for you.

He stared at you for a minute, his mouth hanging open before he finally nodded, “Yeah, kind of. I’m sorry I snapped at you back there, you’re a grown woman, you can flirt with whoever you want, I just…” he trailed off and sighed, “I just get protective.”

“Just protective?” you pushed, “It kind of seemed like maybe that wasn’t all you were feeling…”

He let out another deep sigh, his eyes darting away from you as he spoke, “I mean what do you want me to say here (y/n)? I think I made it kind of obvious.”

You were both quiet for a moment. He had nothing to be jealous about, and you wanted to tell him that, but actually spitting out was harder than you thought it would be.

“Maybe we could just sit down for a minute?” you suggested softly.

He nodded and opened his door the rest of the way so you could follow him inside. Sitting on his night stand he had two water bottles and a couple of snacks.

“I wanted to be ready in case we both got hammered,” he explained as he sat on the edge of his bed, “So I brought some stuff up here earlier.”

“That’s really sweet,” you smiled as you sat beside him, “Tom I’m really sorry.”

“I don’t want you to be sorry (y/n),” he groaned, “You’re my best friend, I just want you to be happy okay?”

“I know, but I shouldn’t have done that…” you bit your cheek, “I shouldn’t have flirted with him, I didn’t realize it would make you so upset. I was just trying to figure out if you were, you know, jealous.”

“I was very jealous,” he popped his knuckles nervously, “I had this whole plan for tonight. I wanted to have that stupid tournament so we could win and then I could kiss you and it’d be this whole big thing,” he chuckled, “It sounds sort of stupid when I say it out loud, I was just trying to be romantic.”

“That’s really cute Tom, I would have liked that a lot,” you fiddled with your hands nervously, “I hope you know that I’m not into him, like, at all. I was just trying to figure out if you were jealous or not so I would know if you felt the same way as I do.”

“(y/n) I am totally crazy about you,” he slipped a hand over yours.

“I’m crazy about you too,” you squeezed his hand and your eyes darted to his lips, you wanted to kiss him but you weren’t sure if you should, “So what now?”

His tongue darted out over his lips while he stared down at yours. Without another word he set his hand on your cheek and leaned in towards you. He pressed his lips to yours gingerly, they were soft and he was gentle. He tasted like cheap beer, something that would have disgusted you if he were anyone else, but you were so happy just to be kissing him you didn’t care.

Finally you separated, Tom hovered close though, keeping his lips just centimeters from yours, “I want you to be my girlfriend, you know, if that’s cool with you.”

“That depends,” you bit your lips, “Is there gonna be more kissing involved?”

He nodded and gave you another quick peck, “Loads.”

“Well in that case, I’m in,” you wrapped your arms around his neck to draw him even closer, “You wanna go be the annoying couple that makes out in the middle of the party?”

He hummed, “As fun as that sounds, I think I’d rather spend the rest of the night up here, just you and me.”

“That sounds nice. We could throw on a movie, snuggle a little,” you agreed, “I still wanna steal some of your clothes though, it gets chilly up here.”

“Sounds perfect,” he pecked your lips again with a smile, “I’ll grab you a sweater, but keep the hat on, I think it’s sexy.”

You laughed as he rose from the bed, “Alright, whatever floats your boat captain.”

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

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inagetawaycarxo · 2 years

Note

If you are taking requests, could you write pregnant!reader w tom where she's always being protected by Tess? Like in this video https://www.instagram.com/reel/CZuTf1dDPhw/?utm_medium=copy_link

Tessa Being Protective Over Pregnant! Reader

WARNINGS: Fluff, errors I missed.

AUTHOR’S NOTE; I DO NOT give consent/permission for my work to be copied and pasted on other platforms, however, I highly encourage feedback, likes, reblogs, and comments.

Tom would often find himself taking photos and videos of Tessa with her head resting just underneath your belly. He found it adorable, it made his heart melt.

At least when he was away he would have some peace of mind knowing you are safe and protected.

When Tom is away filming or promoting his new film, you would send him videos and pictures.

Which made him miss you, his unborn child, and Tessa even more.

Tom is lucky he doesn’t get a growl from Tessa when he touches your baby bump and touches you.

Though however other people weren’t so lucky. Whenever one of tom or your friend plus family members try to feel your baby bump Tessa would growl, resting her head against your bump softly. Slowly falling asleep.

She will lay her head underneath your stomach when you are sitting on the couch, or laying down on the bed.

If you aren’t sitting down and you are standing or doing chores, she is close by.

When the little bub is born, and Tom and you take the newborn home to meet Tessa, she will put her nose against the newborn's beanie. Her tail wagged as she smelled the small bub. Letting out small whines and barks of excitement.

After the birth, she will become more protective following either you or Tom around, depending on who is holding the baby. Always watching.

She will whine when Tom and you take the baby to check-ups.

REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED! 💜

#tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland #celebs x reader #tom holland headcanon

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whatstruthgottodowithit · 1 year

Text

Dating Tom Holland Would Include

You’d meet through work.

Despite being one of the biggest stars on the set he was the sweetest person ever.

But he was so shy in front of you.

So much blushing.

‘I was just, I mean. I don’t know. You can-’ ‘Are you asking me out?’ ‘Not if, I mean if you don’t.’ ‘Yes.’ ‘I understand-, wait yes?’

He’d be such a gentleman.

Opening doors, flowers, paying the cheque.

You couldn’t believe how sweet he was.

He’s a big fan of dates.

Like cinema trips, cooking together, and exploring whatever city he lands in.

And he’d love PDA.

Forehead kisses, holding hands, hugging. Everything PG.

Until you were behind closed doors of course.

Then it would only take a gust of wind to get him excited.

But he’s a love-making kind of guy for sure.

And he was always full of compliments.

And pet names; love, darling and babe in the top three.

He’d introduce you to his family as soon as possible.

You’d be nervous as hell because that meant he was serious.

But they’d love you.

And you’d all like teasing him.

And he’d be gutted when he had to leave for work.

Facetime would be your best friend.

Even doing mundane things like cooking or playing video games.

When you were free he’d definitely bring you out to wherever he was working.

And you’d love spending time on set with him.

It wouldn’t be long before you’d get papped.

But he’d always laugh it off.

And remind you that the only opinions that mattered were yours and his.

You’d both be very open about your insecurities.

And you’d be fiercely defensive whenever someone joked about his height or his mouth [knowing they were his biggest worry]

‘But look all those comments.’ ‘I don’t give a shit about them.’ ‘But-’ ‘To me, you’re the most beautiful girl on this earth…and I love you.’ ‘You do?’ ‘With all my heart.’ ‘I love you too you big softy.’

He’d love late-night talks.

You’d miss it just being the two of you when he was away.

And the only reason the two of you fought was that you were both frustrated from missing each other.

He’d always cave first and say sorry.

And then soon you’d both be apologising for being so annoyed with the other.

And no matter what mood you were in.

He could always make you smile.

‘What are you grinning at?’ ‘Just you.’ ‘Do I have something on my face?’ ‘Of course you don’t you muppet.’ ‘So you just like staring at me?’ ‘Every day.’

You’d be together a while before he’d start thinking about marriage.

He knew he was serious about you.

But the pair of you loved what you did so it was just on a back burner.

But he’d go all out on the proposal.

He’d take you on holiday.

Propose on the beach surrounded by flowers and candles.

Such a romantic.

And your wedding would be just as lavish.

He’d definitely cry.

‘I love you Mrs Holland.’ ‘I love you too.’

THIS IS PART OF MY CHRISTMAS CHALLENGE. I’LL BE POSTING AN IMAGINE EVERDAY FROM 1ST - 25TH DECEMBER. THIS AND ALL IMAGINES WILL BE UPLOADED IN THE LINK POSTED DAY BY DAY.

ADVENT CALENDAR OF IMAGINES

#my writing #my headcanon #my headcanons #tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland headcanon #tom holland fluff #christmas challenge

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aeterna-auroral-avenger · 2 years

Text

Don’t mind me…I’m just thinking about how spiders are naturally talented and skilled weavers and they know how to weave their webs and even make functional, stylish homes and nests and whatnot.

So maybe that’s why Spider-Man knows how to sew his suits. He inherited that trait from the spider and just instinctively know how to weave his suits. Maybe. That’s my explanation for it.

#my thoughts #headcanon #peter parker #spiderman #spidey #spiderman homecoming #spiderman far from home #spiderman no way home #spiderman nwh #the amazing spiderman #tom holland #tobey maguire #andrew garfield

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spider-stark · 1 month

Text

INFINITELY YOU

part one // back at the beginning

SUMMARY - In every universe, Peter Parker seems destined to fall in love with you. And, in every universe, he realizes it too late. When universes collide and two of them are granted a second chance at rectifying their biggest mistake, neither of them are willing to let the opportunity go to waste–even if you end up not being the person they thought you were.

WARNINGS - 18+, story will contain mentions of blood, broken bones, weapons, suggestive language, and more. all versions of peter are between the ages of 19-23 in this story. I will try to update warnings accordingly for each chapter, but please read at your own discretion

WORD COUNT - 5.4k

// masterlist // series masterlist // send me your thoughts // playlist // no way home fan fiction //

The world seemed to slip out from under you, fracturing beneath your feet and leaving you to sink into a deep, dark hole.

It was quiet—so unbearably quiet—and the tension between you and your estranged friends had become so thick that you feared it would soon take form and seep into your lungs. Maybe that would be for the best, you thought, wondering if suffocating on your collective grief would somehow be easier than whatever came next.

“Aunt May…” You sputtered, unable to force the words out. Shaking your head, you asked, “Are you sure?”

God, what a stupid question. You almost wanted to slap yourself for asking something so mindless.

Ned’s lips pressed into a thin line, trying to swallow his own sorrow. “I wish we weren’t,” he said with a small, wistful chuckle, still too shocked to fully acknowledge the gravity of it all. “But… yeah, we’re sure. She’s… She’s gone.”

Your heart sank, unable to think of the right string of words to form a reply.

With your mind reeling, you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking that this was some sort of cruel joke–the kind where the punchline would never quite hit. But all it took was one look at the red-rimmed eyes and tear-stained cheeks of Ned and Mj to know that they were telling the truth.

She was dead—Aunt May was dead.

And, somehow, it seemed as though that wasn’t even the worst part of the mess your friends had gotten themselves in.

“I know that it’s a lot to take in all at once,” Ned started back up, perhaps noticing the way the color seemed to drain from your face. “If you need me to go back over it or explain anything then I can-”

You stopped listening to him, staring blankly at the doormat beneath their feet. They hadn’t even bothered to come inside your apartment, too panicked to waste any time before delving into the details about Doctor Strange and the multiverse and other Spider-Man’s.

But honestly, you didn’t care about any of that.

You didn’t care about string theory or whatever multiversal villains had apparently slipped into your world—because you couldn’t stop thinking about what Ned had said about how May died. It hurt to think about it, the shrapnel and debris that had torn her flesh, the glider that had punctured her side and left her bleeding out in Peter’s arms…

Aunt May had died a horrific and brutal death, and you weren’t sure that there would ever be any way for you to come to terms with that.

“Peter,” you finally spoke, fire raging in your eyes as you looked at Ned. “Where is Peter?”

He spared Mj a sidelong glance, as if silently asking for her permission to answer. Frustration began to prick your skin, crawling up your spine as your stare turned harsh, offended that he didn’t just tell you outright. You knew that things between the four of you hadn’t ended well, but this…

Mj crossed her arms, looking almost as frustrated as you were with Ned’s choice to look to her for permission, and decided to answer in his place.

“Downstairs,” she told you, her tone purposefully clipped as a way to show that the wounds sustained in the downfall of your friendship had not yet healed–and you didn’t care, because you knew that yours hadn’t either.

“Is he…” you trailed off, not sure how to say it. If May’s death had been so brutal, then God knows what kind of injuries Peter might’ve sustained in the fight?

But you didn’t have to speak, because whether the two of you liked it or not, you had been friends—and she always knew what you were thinking. “He’s safe,” she told you, quelling your nerves just a little. A reluctant sigh slipped her lips, shaking her head as she added, “But he’s not okay.”

You knew what she meant—physically Peter had survived the fight with this Goblin man that they had told you about, but mentally…

You understood why she was hesitant to tell you about it, too. Of the three of you, there was only one that had ever been able to delve down into the depths of Peter’s trauma and help him claw his way back out of the gnawing pit that threatened to consume him—and it wasn’t either of them.

And, just as Mj knew you, you knew her.

She didn’t want you around Peter, not anymore—and so if she was willingly telling you that he wasn’t okay, then it meant that she knew how much he truly needed you right now.

“You guys should’ve told me sooner,” you grit your teeth, desperately trying to bite back against the resentment rising in your throat. “You should’ve told me as soon as all of this started, instead of waiting until everything went to shit.”

It wasn’t your intention to sound bitter, but that didn’t stop you from coming across that way. Ned recoiled from your tone like a blow, but you didn’t have it in you to feel guilty right now.

They had been dealing with all of this multiversal crisis bullshit for nearly a week now—and yet none of them had thought to say a single word to you until now. And while you knew that your presence likely wouldn’t have changed the course of events that had unfolded, it still hurt.

And it still made you angry.

“What do you need me to do?” You asked after realizing that neither of them intended to respond to your sharp statement.

“Well,” Ned started, nervously rubbing his sweaty palms against his khakis, “it’s gonna take us some time to figure out where the villains are hiding, and even longer to work out what to do with them. And, since these other Peter’s have dealt with these guys before, we could really use their help…”

He trailed off, once again looking to Mj, this time to silently urge her to finish his sentence.

She rolled her eyes. “We need you to let them stay here.”

Your brows furrowed, glancing between the two of them as if once again waiting for some sort of punchline to hit. It didn’t.

“It might take us a bit–a few weeks, maybe—to find all of them and stop them. And now that Happy’s complex was literally blown to pieces, we don’t have anywhere for the two of them to stay while they help out.” Mj tried to explain. She looked defeated when she said, “We didn’t know who else we could go to that would actually understand.”

Understand.

If you weren’t still reeling from everything they had just told you, then you probably would have laughed at the word. You would hardly say that you understood what was going on—but you knew what she was getting.

Mj’s dad would hardly allow two random men to stay in his house with them, and Ned’s Lola probably wasn’t too keen on the idea either. With Happy’s place destroyed, they had nowhere left to turn.

You weren’t sure how to feel now that you knew they had only come to you because you were their last choice.

At the risk of aggravating Mj, you said, “I wanna talk to Peter.”

“I don’t know if now’s a good time,” Mj swiftly shot back. “I told you that’s he’s not okay—”

“But he’s here,” you stated, nodding your head towards the stairs somewhere behind them that led back down to the lobby. “And you’re insane if you think I’m gonna agree to let two random ass men stay in my house without at least knowing what his plan is.”

Mj bristled at the harshness of your tone; and so did you.

You weren’t used to this.

Mj had been your friend for far longer than she had been whatever she was to you now, and neither of you were used to this—to your once special connection being reduced to nothing more than strained conversations and fractured feelings towards one another.

“Fine,” Mj surrendered, her hands lifting slightly. “Do whatever you want.”

It wasn’t until then that you realized that you had been waiting for her permission, even though you didn’t believe you truly needed it. Peter was your friend—and he had been your friend long before he even knew Mj. If you wanted to talk to him, then you had every right to.

Yet you still hadn’t been able to will yourself to push between the two of them until she had spoken, side-stepping to let you pass. When you started descending the stairs to the lobby, you were shocked that neither she nor Ned followed, offering you a sense of privacy with Peter that you hadn’t expected—as if she still held some shred of trust in you.

You didn’t want to think about it though, unsure of how you felt about that, too.

Halfway down the dank stairway of your complex, you felt a shiver dance along your spine. It prickled your skin and set your nerves on edge, but it didn’t catch you off guard. You always felt this way when Peter was around—as if your body could always sense when he was around, even when you hadn’t yet seen him.

The last step creaked when you placed your weight onto it, and from across the poorly maintained lobby, Peter’s neck snapped in your direction at the sound.

It felt like ice skittered across your bones at the sight of him, your heart lurching against your ribcage.

You had gotten used to seeing Peter battered and bruised years ago. Even before he became Spider-Man, he often found himself the victim of bullies and assholes, rarely going more than a few weeks without a busted lip or a new bruise. But this…

This was different, somehow.

It wasn’t just the blood-stained suit that set your heart racing, nor was it the lacerated skin or his sweat-matted hair. No, those things were normal—in the same way that being bitten by a radioactive spider was normal.

It was even normal to see him standing before you, his chin high and shoulders back, presenting a perfect image of strength even after experiencing something as traumatic as losing May.

Peter’s relationship with trauma had been intimate enough these past few years that you weren’t shocked to see him like this, standing tall rather than balling up and crying on the floor. You figured that was what most others would do if they were in his situation.

But Peter wasn’t like other people.

Peter was a hero—and if you had learned anything about heroes in your lifetime, it was that they were incredible liars.

His eyes couldn't lie, though.

Bloodshot and ringed with exhaustion, his eyes were what had made you feel so sick, your stomach twisting itself into knots.

They lacked the life and hope of the boy you had loved so dearly, replaced with something like rage—a pure, unbridled and unrelenting type of rage. Looking at him now you couldn’t ignore the burning talon that seemed to rake against your mind, filling your brain with thoughts you didn’t want to think right now—telling you that looking at Peter now, with the light draining from his eyes, was the same as looking in a mirror.

“Peter,” a metallic tang danced on your tongue as you dug your teeth into your cheek, biting back against the tears threatening to well-up in your eyes.

Letting your instincts guide you, you rushed across the lobby to where he stood by the front door, reaching for his hand without a second thought.

His suit had been torn along his palm, and as you felt the warmth radiating from his calloused skin, you tried to take some comfort in the fact that at least he had survived—even if you still weren’t ready to accept that May hadn’t.

“Don’t,” He yanked his hand back from you, his voice hoarse. “Don’t say you’re sorry.”

You froze for half a heartbeat, your hand hanging awkwardly in-between the two of you. “I wasn’t going to.”

You weren’t sure if you were telling the truth, but it didn’t seem to matter either way.

Either way, you tried to understand his reaction, even as you winced from the sting of rejection. What good would an apology really do for a boy who had already lost everything?

It wouldn’t bring the light back to his eyes.

It wouldn’t bring May back to life.

“Ned told me everything,” you told him, unwilling or unable to say Mj’s name right now. You clenched and unclenched your fists, painfully aware of the absence of his warmth. “You know I’ll do anything I can to help, so just tell me what needs to be done and I’ll do it.”

Peter scoffed, his jaw tensing. “We both know that what I want doesn’t matter,” he said bluntly. Motioning to your surroundings, he continued, “If what I wanted mattered, then we wouldn’t even be here. We wouldn’t be asking for your help—wouldn’t be dragging another person into this and asking them to risk their life!”

You did your best not to react, knowing that he hadn’t meant it quite as bad as it sounded. It already hurt knowing that you had been Mj and Ned’s last choice for help, but knowing that Peter didn’t want you to be a choice at all hurt far worse—even if it was to keep you safe.

“Well, you’re here now,” you told him, keeping your voice steady. “So you might as well tell me what your plan is—or at least tell me how long I’ll need to play bunkmates with strangers.”

You were lying when you had told Mj and Ned that you needed to talk to Peter before agreeing to let the alternate Spider-Men stay in your apartment—you didn’t care about housing with strangers, aware that there was nothing they could do to you that you haven't endured before.

Selfishly, you had just wanted a reason to come down and talk to him. To see him. To know that he was alive. You didn’t care about anything else.

Sometimes you worried that you didn’t even care about your own life, only Peter’s.

But Peter cared about your life—far more than you would ever want him to.

“My plan doesn’t matter,” he said, his tone clipped, “cause I don’t want you getting involved. And I definitely don’t want you to let those guys stay here, alright? We don’t know them.”

You steeled yourself, resisting the urge to argue with him and instead asking a simple question. “Do you have anywhere else for them to go?”

He didn’t respond, huffing out a breath, already frustrated with the defiance he knew you were about to display.

“You might not want my help, but if Ned’s right–” you told him, gesturing backwards towards the staircase, “–which he usually is—then you’re gonna need these guys.”

“But that doesn’t mean we need you,” Peter protested gruffly.

Your chest tightened, but you kept shoving back against the hurt. Later, you would deal with that later.

“It doesn’t matter if you need me,” you retorted with a defiant tilt of your chin, unwavering as his rageful gaze seemed to pierce through your skull, “because you’re stuck with me either way.”

You hadn’t expected the statement to affect him, but it did, his voice softening slightly. “I always have been.”

“Exactly. So you might as well make this easy on the both of us and not fight me on it,” you declared, trying to conjure up the most convincing smile you could offer. “Let me help, Peter.”

A sigh slipped his lips, heavy with reluctant resignation as he realized he wasn’t winning this battle. “We’ve already lost so many people… I’ve lost so many people. And there’s already enough blood on my hands,” he said, lifting his hands to display the torn, blood-stained fabric, driving his point home. “It doesn’t matter what I say—so let them stay here or don’t, I don’t care. But just know that whatever happens to you, it’s not on me. Because I told you to stay out of it, alright?”

He took a step closer, and you didn’t dare move a single muscle as his lips hovered just inches from your own. “Do whatever you want,” his voice was barely a whisper, laced with a venomous edge that nearly made you tremble, “but don’t expect me to come running to save you when it all goes to shit.”

His words hung in the air like a curse, lingering in the lobby for far longer than he did. As soon as the promise had left his lips, he was already turning on his heel and shoving the door open, abandoning you in the dim space.

You knew better than to think he meant it.

But knowing didn’t make it hurt any less.

You stuck your hands beneath the running faucet, scrubbing the blood from a jagged cut on your palm. It wasn’t all that deep, shallow enough that it probably wouldn't even leave a scar once healed. When you were done rinsing it, you cupped your hands and gathered the water in them, splashing your reddened cheeks.

Crying would have been a normal part of grieving for May, and when you forced yourself to look back at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, you couldn’t help but wish that you could’ve been a little more normal.

But tears hadn’t been the cause of your flushed appearance—no, because you had never been very good at expressing the more delicate emotions, like sadness.

You were good at expressing anger, though.

You were very good at expressing anger.

After Peter had stormed out of the lobby and abandoned you to choke on his cruel promise, it had taken you several minutes to work up the nerve to go back upstairs and face Mj and Ned. By some stroke of luck you had managed to keep a tight leash on your often volatile attitude, telling them your decision to let the other Peter’s stay with you.

And then you lost control as soon as they left, loosening the reins on your anger and taking the uncomfortable feelings out on a nearby potted plant, shouting curses as you tossed it at the wall.

By the time you thought to clean it up, after finishing another string of irate profanities, your hands had been shaking so bad that you cut yourself on one of the dirt-covered shards. And maybe, once you felt the jagged ceramic dig into your palm, you should’ve hissed or cursed more or stopped cleaning to patch yourself up.

But you didn’t. You stayed quiet, continuing to pluck the shattered fragments off the floor until you had gotten them all, dumping them into the trash before grabbing the broom and dustpan and cleaning the dirt and scattered leaves, too.

There were more important things to deal with than cleaning a dirty wound.

Like making sure none of your friends could see that you weren’t nearly as composed as you tried to seem.

The familiar rhythmic rapping of Mj’s knuckles against the front door made you forgo the bandage you were going to fix to your palm, tossing the rag you’d used to dry your face into the sink and heading straight to the living room.

Carefully shoving your injured hand into your pocket, you opened the door and tried not to look surprised when Peter wasn’t standing in-between Mj and Ned. Of course he hadn’t come with them—why would he? He had already made it clear how he felt about all of this.

It did become significantly harder to mask your shock however when a tall, messy haired boy stepped into view from behind them, clad in a crimson and cobalt webbed suit.

“Get inside,” you hissed a bit harsher than intended, stepping aside and waving the three of them into your apartment.

The last thing you needed was your neighbors seeing an unmasked, alternate version of Spider-Man standing in front of your door. It had already been risky enough that Peter had come here in his suit, standing in the lobby and sticking out like a sore thumb.

Once they were inside, you shut the door and turned to Ned. “I thought you said there were two of them,” you noted, avoiding looking at the lanky Spider-Man who seemed just as desperate to avoid you, busying himself with walking around the room and studying the art on the walls.

Ned shrugged. “He didn’t wanna come.”

“Not that he didn’t want to come,” Mj pointedly corrected him, frowning at his bluntness. “He just wanted to keep patrolling. The Goblin, the one who…” she cut herself off, unable to force the words off her tongue. Scrapping the sentence altogether, she started again, “The Goblin’s from his world, so he seemed to think that he had the best chance of hunting him down. But we gave him the address.”

You didn’t bother giving her an actual response, a subtle nod the only sign you had heard her at all. She didn’t seem to care much, just as unsure of what to say to you as you were to her.

“So,” Ned clicked his tongue, trying to cut through the growing tension. “This is Peter 3!” He announced, gesturing to the other Peter, who was picking up a frame that had been face down on an end table. “That’s what we’re calling him, at least. Y’know, to tell them apart. The other one is Peter 2.”

You gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Creative.”

Done dawdling over Ned and Mj, you forced yourself to look at the un-masked hero from another world. He was placing the frame back onto the table—not face down, as he had found it, but up-right. You frowned at the photograph it displayed, a picture of you, Ned, Mj, and Peter from sometime last year.

“You’re awfully nosy,” you told him, your voice like ice.

His muscles tensed, hesitating as he faced your gaze. “Sorry,”

His voice was slightly deeper than Peter’s, his hair a shade or two darker, his features a bit less soft, but still noticeably young, putting him in his early twenties at most. Truthfully, if it weren’t for the suit he was wearing, you would’ve never guessed that he was supposed to be the Peter Parker of another world.

You had expected him to be more… Peter-like, in appearance, and yet as far as you could tell the resemblances were very slight, if they even existed at all.

The mannerisms were there, though. The subtleties of Peter Parker, the things that most people never noticed and yet were ingrained in your mind. He licked his lips, a nervous tic that left you always carrying chapstick in your pocket. His hands hung at his sides and you saw the way his thumb tapped against each of his fingers, starting with his index and ending with his pinky, only to start over again.

Watching him, taking note of every familiar twitch and tic and habit, made something in your chest tighten.

And, when you told him your name, it was as if your icy tone had melted altogether. “It’s nice to meet you.”

For a moment you thought he wouldn’t respond, his throat bobbing as he swallowed roughly, eyes darting around the room. But then, suddenly, he gave you a weak smile. “You too.” A trace of amusement laced his response, too subtle for you to detect.

“We’ve gotta go,” Ned suddenly spoke, jutting a thumb towards the door. “Peter’s waiting outside so he can make sure we get home safe, but-” he stopped, brows furrowing as considered whether he should finish. “But text us later, okay? Just to let us know that you’re okay.”

Your heart stuttered at the mention of Peter’s name, at knowing that he actually had come—even if it hadn’t been for you—but you didn’t mention it.

Instead, you focused on Ned, giving your sweet friend the kindest smile you could muster—which, admittedly, didn’t feel like much. Despite everything that had happened with your friends in the past few months, your fight had never been with Ned. He was just caught in the middle, unfairly forced to pick sides.

And you couldn’t bring yourself to be mad at him for picking Peter. Not when you knew that you would’ve done the same.

“I will,” you promised.

Ned gave you an equally somber smile before opening the door to leave. Even once Ned was in the hall, already descending the staircase, Mj lingered in the entryway—not for long, a heartbeat, maybe—turning back towards you just long enough to mutter, “Keep your guard up.”

You didn’t have a chance to say anything back to her before she let the door slam shut, following quickly after Ned and leaving you alone with… this guy.

The other Peter had abandoned his spot by the end table, seemingly done with investigating your apartment and left to do nothing but stand awkwardly a few feet away from you, clearly unsure of what to do or say now that it was just the two of you.

“So,” you breathed out, popping your lips. “Peter 3, yeah? Good name. You go by that back home, too?”

He laughed, a suit-clad hand nervously rising to the back of his neck. “Uh–yeah, no, definitely not. Just plain ole’ Peter Parker over there.”

The nervous energy radiating from the boy almost seemed contagious as you started to pick at your nails. “Do you have a nickname?”

He blinked, looking as if he hadn’t heard a word you said. “Sorry, what?”

“A nickname,” you repeated, only for your brows to then furrow. “You have those where you’re from, don’t you? Nicknames? Like, you know, something you go by other than your actual name?”

“Oh! Yes—sorry, yes we have nicknames in my world,” he exclaimed, his pale skin starting to flush.

“I just thought that this whole numerical system thing that Ned’s going with to keep track of who’s who seems a little dehumanizing, yeah?”

“For sure,” he agreed, sucking on his lip as he nodded along with you.

You gave him a second, waiting and waiting for an answer to your apparently long-forgotten question, before asking, “So… Do you have one?”

The slight blush that had tinged his skin instantly darkened, suddenly the same shade of crimson as his suit. His grip on the back of his neck tightened, too, his fingertips prodding into his own skin.

“Sorry-” he apologized for the millionth time, more nervous laughter spilling out alongside it, “I do! I mean, sort of, I think. I don’t know if it’s really a nickname, but back in my world you really just called me by my last name most of the time anyway, so–I don’t know—maybe that would work?”

The sheer quantity of word vomit spewing from his mouth was impressive and likely hard-to-follow for most, but you consider yourself a bit of an expert in the anxious ramblings of Peter Parker.

“In your world?” You echoed, instantly catching the subtle mention. “We know each other?”

Maybe it shouldn’t have been shocking to learn that there were other versions of you throughout the multiverse as well, and yet it was. You figured that it was plausible, of course, considering that two variations of Peter had just been thrown into your world, but for some reason it just didn’t feel right.

You reasoned that anyone would feel that way, though.

“Yeah,” the boy, Parker, answered, a bit clipped. “We do.”

“Interesting.” Your brows lifted, “Are we friends?”

Parker scrunched his nose, his head tilting slightly.

“Yeah,” his voice was an octave higher than before, and if you knew him better, then you likely would’ve called him on the obvious tell. But you didn’t know him, and so you didn’t say anything when he decided to double-down on the lie, “Yeah, we’re friends.”

“Well I guess that means that this is just as weird for you as it is for me, then.” You laughed, trying to add some humor to the situation.

Parker gave a tightlipped smile. “Definitely weird.”

The seconds felt like they stretched into minutes after that, silently racking your brain for something to say, hoping that he might say something—but, eventually, you settled on offering an escape from the situation instead.

“You’re probably exhausted from the whole multiversal travel thing, so if you want, I can just show you the guest room and give you some privacy or something,” you told him, vaguely gesturing towards the hallway.

Parker seemed to relax a bit at the prospect of being alone, loosing a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Uhm–yeah, that’d be great, actually.”

He followed you down the short hall, his hand finally falling from his neck and his skin returning to its normal complexion as his nerves began to wane.

“This is it,” you told him, the hinges crying out as you shoved the door open. “It’s not much, but it’s somewhere to sleep, at least.”

Wasn’t much felt like an understatement, though the room was typical for a New York apartment.

A tad bigger than your average shoebox, there was just enough space to fit a full-sized bed, a small armoire, and a single nightstand adorned with an old desk lamp and a little pink teddy bear—a gift from Peter, years ago.

Parker walked into the room, looking around and brushing his fingertips against the emerald quilt. It was a bit old and somewhat thin, but it was better than nothing you supposed, and Parker certainly didn’t seem like he was going to complain about it.

“It’s great,” he assured you, and even though he did sound genuine, you couldn’t help but snort. He looked over at where you still stood in the doorway, giving you a timid smile as he said, “Way better than sleeping on the streets.”

You returned the gesture, lazily lifting a shoulder. “We’ll see if you still feel that way in the morning. That mattress is about a hundred years old, so it’s probably the equivalent of sleeping on really lumpy cement.”

Parker hummed his amusement, carefully perching on the edge of the bed, his smile seeming to deepen when he caught sight of the little bear on the nightstand.

“I guess I’ll let you get some sleep,” you told him, reaching for the door handle, “if you need anything—extra blankets, or something—just let me know; my room’s right across the hall.”

He muttered his thanks, but as you went to pull the door closed, you heard your name fall from his lips. It was strange sounding, strangled and foreign, like he didn’t quite know how to say it. When you turned back to face him, a subtle wince seemed to etch across his face.

“Can I… Can I ask you something?” Parker stammered out the question, his voice faltering like a candle flame in the wind.

You nodded once, fingers still wrapped around the knob, savoring the coolness of the brass against the now-clotted wound on your palm.

He took a breath, his gaze momentarily flickering back to the teddy bear on the nightstand. His thoughts felt heavy on his tongue as he tried to force them out of his mouth, “Are you happy?”

You blinked at him, unsure of what to make of the hope that seemed to cling to each syllable and half-wondering if you’d heard him right.

“I-” you tried to start, only to realize that you had no clue what to say.

There was a fleeting moment where you realized that you could tell him the truth. You could tell him that happiness felt like a distant shore far from your reach, forever obscured by the fiery tempest of a brutal and ancient rage—a rage that, sometimes, didn’t even feel like your own.

But then he looked at you with those big, expectant eyes; eyes that should have been foreign to you, and yet felt so familiar—and you realized that he wouldn’t like that answer.

Sucking in a breath, you evaded his question as best you could. “Ask me again when all of this is over,” you told him, your lips curving into a soft, playful arc, “and maybe I’ll tell you the truth.”

This time when you went to close the door, he didn’t stop you.

series masterlist

a/n - i wish that i could properly express just how amazing (and terrifying) it has been to rewrite this story. first created at quite possibly the lowest point of my life, infinitely you has provided me with a necessary escape at a time when i desperately needed it. now that i'm in a better position, i found it necessary to give it the plot, writing style, and dedication that it deserved. i'm aware some people might not be interested in a rewrite and that's ok, but for those that are i just wanna say: thank you, thank you, thank you for giving infinitely you (and me) another shot. you're incredible.

if anyone would like to be added to the tag list, just let me know! as of right now, chapters will be posted every other monday, though i may switch that to weekly soon!

part two, titled "crullers & constants", to be released april 1st

433 notes · View notes

noobsquasher · 2 years

Note

Love your writing omg, can you pls pls write one where y/n has never had an orgasm before and is really innocent so her best friend Peter (who’s kinda dominant) helps her by going down and fingering her??

Say Yes To Heaven ✮

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: unprotected sex, praising, degrading, fingering, oral sex (reading receiving), swearing, etc

Summary: Your best friend, Peter is shocked to hear that you've never had an orgasm before. So in return, he offers to give you your first.

Notes: Peter Parker x Female Reader

All characters in this story are 18+

I know. 6 months since I've uploaded something, but here's another toe-curling smut for you <3 thanks for all love I've been receiving even though I've been gone.

------

“Which one is this for?” You asked, holding the foreign Lego piece, not knowing where to place it.

“Oh! That’s the last piece I was looking for. Put that on the top, right here.” He pointed to the arch of the plastic building, indicating where to put it.

You leaned over, carefully moving forward to gently connect the Lego pieces.

“There! Voila!” You cheered, impressed that you finished about a quarter of your Hogwarts Lego project with Peter.

“Great! Now we have about… 1,500 more pieces to go!”

You took a deep breath, already tired of how long you guys have been building this. You took a look outside, the sky was painted with deep rose and tangerine, slight hints of indigo parading the ends of the horizon.

“Pete, let’s take a break. I’m hungry.” You stood up, making your way towards his kitchen.

“Uh, sure. What do you wanna eat? I have…” he followed you before opening his fridge, checking to see what he had in store, “Well, I um… I don’t really have much. May hasn’t gone shopping yet.”

“What about pizza?” You proposed.

“I have pizza dough. You wanna make it ourselves?”

“Make pizza with you? The last time you were in charge of cooking, the fire department showed up not even an hour later.”

“Hey! That was one time like forever ago!”

“That happened last week, Peter.”

He narrowed his eyes at you, huffing. You giggled.

“Look, it’ll be fun! Us two, cooking, creating something homemade. Come on.” Those big brown eyes of his practically begged you with just the bat of an eyelash.

You gazed at him, a smile creeping up your face.

“Fine. But I’m in charge of oven duty, not you.”

Afterward, you two started your cooking adventure. Having Peter even be in the kitchen was already a fire hazard, so you took on most of the work, letting him do the easy parts.

You watched intently as he rolled out the pizza dough, a pretty smile on his face as he enjoyed the activity.

You couldn’t help but get lost in the minuscule act, something so small doing so much to your heart. You felt pure infatuation run through your veins, your eyes practically twinkling as you watched the person you loved most.

You knew crushing on your best friend would have you end up in a ditch, a hole deep and wide enough to keep you from crawling out, a dark abyss that held all your pent-up feelings. Emotions that pricked you each time you saw Peter’s heart-wrenching smile.

You didn’t know if he liked you back, you wondered if it was even a possibility, hoped there was a small part of him that felt the same way you did.

You’ve known him forever, he’s been your sidekick since you could remember. Even when you found out that he was Spiderman, you still stuck with him through thick and thin, never leaving his side.

You never thought your relationship would turn up the way it has, but now you are stuck. Adhered to this impending adoration you hold for Peter fucking Parker.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t even realize when Peter tried to catch your attention.

“Hey? You alright, my love?” He looked concerned, slight fear on his face.

“What?”

“Why do you have that look on your face?”

“Huh? What look?”

He gazed at you, studying your features, eyes marked to your chest,

“Nothing. Um, I’m done with the dough. I already put the sauce on it.”

You took a deep breath, reaching over the kitchen island to grab the sliced cheese.

“Here, put the mozzarella on it.”

When the pizza was prepared, you took the pan and placed it inside the oven, setting it.

“Okay, we just gotta wait a little while, and then it’s done.” You announced.

“Alright. So… what do you wanna do?” Peter leaned against the counter, looking down at you. His stance sent strange chills down your spine, you gulped, trying to get your conscience together.

“I- I dunno. What do you wanna do?”

“Wanna watch a movie?”

“If you say Star-“

“Star Wars. There are new episodes of the man-“

“No, Peter. I’m not watching that shit again.”

“Why not?! You made me sit through five Twilight movies!”

“Don’t act like you're not on team Edward!”

“I’m team, Alice!”

You gazed at him, a grin staining your lips before you rolled your eyes, letting out a laugh. He couldn’t help but laugh at himself, the two of you cackling together.

“Okay, alright, we don’t need to watch Star Wars again. For your sake.” He put his hand on your arm, squeezing it.

You gazed up at him, your cheeks suddenly heating up.

“Uh… let’s just talk, until the pizza is done.”

He nodded his head, walking back to the living room to grab a seat on the couch.

You sat next to him, keeping a safe enough distance from him, for your sake, and your panties, of course.

“So, tell me something about yourself.”

You grinned,

“You know everything about me, Pete. You’ve known me forever.”

“Yeah, but people still hold secrets. Tell me one of yours.”

You kept your eyes on him, crossing your arms.

I’m in love with you.

“You first, Parker.”

“Hm… well, this secret is one of my worst. Truly horrific.” You tilted your head at him, “I’m… I’m a Leo man.” He confessed, putting his head into his hands as if he was terrified at what he just shared.

You gasped in mock offense,

“Leo?! Oh god, no!” You wailed, covering your eyes.

He laughed, shaking his head,

“I know… I know, It’s my biggest character flaw.”

You giggled,

“My biggest character flaw is not being able to have an orgasm.” You admitted, sharing a personal confession with Peter.

His brows knit together, his gaze shifting.

“What do you mean?”

“Well… I’ve only had sex once, and the guy didn’t make me finish. And I’ve you know… experimented with myself before, but I’ve never really had that big O every woman talks about. I’m kinda… embarrassed. I feel like there’s something wrong with me, you know? Guys can get off so easily, but then when it comes to women who are inexperienced and who don’t know much about their bodies, it’s a whole other situation.”

Peter listened intently, showing care in what you had to say.

“So, you’ve never had a real orgasm?” He gently asked.

“Not really.”

He kept his eyes on you, analyzing your body language.

You felt the invisible tension between you two wrap around your neck, practically suffocating you with your vulnerability. You felt your heart race, wanting to change the subject.

“Anyway, uh… I um, I think the pizza is ready.” You hastily stood up, making your way towards the kitchen.

“It's not ready yet, but it smells good.” You say, inhaling the mouth-watering scent that’s filled the room.

You felt Peter creep behind you, placing a careful hand on your waist. You didn’t jump at his touch, instead, you melted, leaning towards him.

“You haven’t had an orgasm yet?” His tone held genuine concern as if he really cared about your situation.

“It’s- it’s nothing, Peter. You shouldn’t-“

“Can I… can I show you how it feels?”

You were nearly thrown back, almost dumbfounded at his words.

“W-what?”

“I’m a firm believer that every woman should be able to have a good orgasm every once in a while. You are such a hard worker, honey. You put in so much care and effort into your everyday life and into the people you love and… and I just can’t see how you haven’t blown up with all that stress you must have.” You were completely starstruck by Peter at the moment, you thought your feet had molded into the floor, “Let me… let me take care of you. Show you how good it feels to finally let go, and have that earth-shattering orgasm you’ve been waiting for.”

You stood staring at him, unable to open your mouth. Had he just said what you thought he did? Propose an offer that would completely change your life.

“Peter, you- you don’t need to do that for me. I know you care about me and all, but it’s not your responsibility.”

“I know, but this feels like it is. I want you to have this experience, to step into a new path in your life.”

You gazed into his honeyed orbs, contemplating the idea.

This would be a whole new venture for you, a life-altering experience that you’ve been dying for. Denying the offer seemed like a foolish choice.

“…It’s okay if you don’t-“

“I want to. I want to experience it.”

He blinked,

“Are you sure? Like one hundred percent positive?”

“You're right, Peter. I need to experience this, I need to let go for once.”

His eyes never left yours as a smile stained his lips.

“So, we’re doing this? We’re really doing it?” He questioned, leaning closer to you. His chestnut orbs sparkled with underlying excitement, as did yours.

“We’re really doing it.”

As soon as Peter peeled off your sticky panties, your mind started to ramble.

Has Peter done this before? If so, how come he hasn’t told me? Does he like me too? He wouldn’t do this just as a friendly gesture, would he? How does this affect our relationship from now on? Is he—

“Hey… hey, you're alright. I’m here, Angel.” The nickname slipped out his lips so smoothly, so perfectly, it nearly stopped your heart.

He was so gentle with you, rubbing your thighs carefully, whispering soft affirmations to soothe you, treating you like something so fragile, a thin layer of glass.

“Are you sure you wanna keep going?” You felt your heart thump throughout your body as you looked down at him, his face inches away from your velvety folds.

“I mean- my pussy is already in your face so…” he chuckled, his warm laugh calming you.

“Alright… if I’m hurting you or anything, please speak up. Don’t be afraid to talk to me.”

“I will don’t worry.”

He took one more look at you before his thumb trailed to your throbbing clit, drawing slight circles around it. The instant shock had your head thrown back, soft moans escaping your lips.

“Shit… you're already soaked. Did I do this to you?” He continued his movements, playing with you like a guitar, pulling each string with pure delicacy, with one prominent goal in mind. You whimpered, breath heavy.

“Tell me, Angel. Who did this to you?”

Suddenly, his finger sunk inside you, almost too easy. You let out a roar, chest rising and falling as your gaze narrowed to the curly-haired boy between your legs.

“You! You did, Peter! All you!” The pleasure was overwhelming, you felt your entire body heat up, your mind spinning.

His fingers curled inside you, hitting that sweet spot of yours. You gasped, gripping onto his bed sheets as your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

“Good girl… such a sweet girl. You like that?” He praises, fingers digging deeper. You can’t help but continue to moan, eyes closed as you take in how fucking amazing this feels. Suddenly, you feel Peter’s hand slap your throbbing clit. You yelp, looking back at him.

“Eyes down here, baby. Look at me while I make you come.” His sugared demands came as a surprise to you.

Never have you seen Peter in this light before. It makes you feel a type of way, an instant feeling of desire. All you wanted was him. All of him. Every single inch of his cock just buried inside you.

“Peter! Oh- oh fucking god!” You felt something burn within you, complete ecstasy running through your veins as Peter’s thick fingers continued to destroy you.

“Talk to me, princess. Tell me what you want.” Your eyes practically burned into one another, Peter’s chestnut orbs were filled with lust. You wished he could always look at you like this.

“I want- shit, I want to come. Please, please let me come. I’m begging you!” He smiles, diving into you as his hot tongue starts to draw circles around your little bundle of nerves. Harsh moans escape your lips, your legs starting to shake.

It was as if his lips were a work of magic, moving them in such an inconceivable rhythm that you thought your mind was going to explode. With how he was devouring your soaked pussy and playing with that honeyed spot within you, it felt like you finally reached nirvana.

Is this what heaven feels like?

“Such a sweet pussy,” he groans, fingers hooked inside you,

“God, you taste so fucking good. I could eat this pussy all night. Shit. Why didn’t you let me fuck you sooner?” He dives back into his succulent meal.

You couldn’t answer him as crying out your moans was the only thing you could do. You started to wonder if this was really happening. Was Peter about to give you your first orgasm?

You even realize that he’s been humping the mattress this whole time, fucking out his throbbing boner.

“God! Peter! I’m gonna- I’m gonna come!” Your chest thumps rigorously, all your nerves start to light a fuse inside you. You start to feel lightheaded, bliss starting to kick in as Peter continues to play with your body like his own goddamn toy. “I’m- I’m gonna-“

Suddenly, he stops. You quickly look at him, all your limbs trembling as you whine.

“Why- why did you-“

“All this time I’ve been waiting, just fucking dreaming about this baby.

Now that I’ve got you, I’ll never let you go. I want- no, I need to feel you wrapped around my cock. I gotta make a mess inside you if you’ll let me. I’ll promise to make you cum on my cock for all eternity if you do.”

You stared at him, completely dumbfounded. You needed at least three to five business days to process what he just said.

“Please, babygirl. I’m begging you.”

You laid still, those glossy orbs of yours stuck to the man before you.

“If you don’t want that it’s alright, I’ll just—“ his ramblings were cut short as your lips connected to his, kissing him with such passion that tiny whimpers escaped Peter. You gripped onto his curls, pulling him into you.

“Shut up and fuck the living shit outta me.”

To say that Peter’s cock was big was an understatement. You’ve never seen something so beautiful. It was thick, long, veiny, and absolutely angelic.

“Holy shit.” You blurt, eyes locked onto his leaking tip.

“What? Is it too big? Or too—“

“No- Peter. Your dick is so… wow.”

“Really? Do you think so? I always thought it was—“ You shut him up again with your puffy lips, you couldn’t wait any longer to have him deep inside you.

“I don’t want you to go easy on me. Just fuck me like there’s no tomorrow, baby. I need you.” You plead before ripping off your top, your breasts falling in front of him. His chocolate orbs immediately stared at them.

“Can I suck on them?” He asks softly, his hand grasping onto your pebbled nipple. You nod your head, biting your lip in anticipation.

He lays you back down onto his sheets, his pink lips immediately attaching to your chest. You whine with pleasure, his hand reaching down to your abused clit to play with it again.

His candied kisses mark your body with much love as if he’s branding you.

Never have you felt this euphoric.

You feel his cock brush over your cunt, as if he was asking permission to completely indulge inside you.

“You have my word, Petey. Please let me feel you.”

His pupils widen before he catches a kiss on your lips. As your tongues dance together, his large length slips inside you, stretching you out with blazing felicity. You both moan in desire, wanting more.

His thrusts increase as he brings your knees up to his chest, completely fucking you insane like how you begged him to.

The bed bangs against the wall as he pounds his cock within you, your cries filling the room.

“Oh! Just like that! Fuck, Peter!”

“You feel so fucking good. My god… such a tight pussy. Jesus Christ— I could cum already.” He groans, kissing you. You whine against his lips, arms wrapping around his back to pull him deeper.

“You fucking slut. You love my cock, don’t you? Can’t get enough?”

“Never! Oh, my fucking—“ you didn’t think he could sink any further, but when his cock hit your cervix, you completely lost your mind.

You could feel him throb within you, your walls gripping onto him for dear life, never wanting to let him go.

Harsh claps ran around his bedroom, you were definitely gonna feel the aches in the morning.

Peter was right, why didn’t you let him fuck you sooner? His cock was addictive, this was a feeling you could never get over.

You started to go numb as he pounded you senseless, utter babbles were all you could make out.

“Already cock-drunk, baby? That dumb brain of yours can’t handle my pretty cock? Huh?” He teased.

You honestly didn’t even know what he said. All you could feel was that huge cock inside you just absolutely tearing you up from the inside, and out.

You felt that burning feeling again, soon realizing that you were gonna make a mess on him.

“Gonna let me feel you? Come on, Angel. Let me feel you.”

Suddenly, it happened.

Your back brutally arched as all your muscles tightened, your intense orgasm raging throughout your body. You screamed Peter’s name like a damn prayer, trembling harshly as your cunt gripped Peter’s cock with all its glory. It was unlike anything else you’ve ever endured. Staining his thick length with your saccharine cum is what enlightenment must feel like.

He grunts, “That’s it baby, that’s it. Good girl, such a pretty slut for me, yeah? Tell me you’re all mine.”

“I’m- I’m all yours. I swear. I swear, Petey.”

He smiles before crying with triumph as he finishes inside you, painting your walls with his delicate seed.

As the high died down, you couldn’t help but feel fulfilled. A smile pricked your lips as you started to laugh, euphoria clouding your head. Peter looked over as you were giggling like a maniac. He too busted out chuckling as it was contagious.

“Why- why are you laughing?”

“Because… because that was the best sex I’ve ever had! I feel so… so fucking happy.” You confessed, a huge grin attached to your lips.

Peter blushes, softly laughing before catching a much-needed kiss on your lips. His kiss was filled with tenderness, sweet love fusing between you.

Suddenly, a burning smell pricks your nose.

“Peter,” you try to break the kiss but he doesn’t stop, wanting to caress you forever, “…Peter— what’s that smell?”

“Huh? What… oh shit. The pizza!” He jumps out of bed, running butt-naked towards his kitchen.

You sigh as you shake your head.

“Call the fucking fire department again!”

———

7K notes · View notes

presleyanswrites · 7 months

Text

chilly

pairing(s): mcu peter parker x sick!fem!reader

desc basically im obsessed with sick!fics. posted one a while back for another fandom 🤭 just peter worried.

a/n holy shit im so sorry i haven't been posting lately my loves. my house is currently being sold and i've been running ramped. i wrote this after i had time off work. hope you enjoy.

warnings language, fluff, grammar. (please message me if i missed any!)

@cozytober2023

requests | open 💌 masterlist

It was only October 7th and you we're already a stuffy snotty sticky mess from the sudden drop of temperature outside.

It was cold outside, but the light from your wooden bedroom windows sunbathed the room, brightening your pale complexion.

tissues were plastered all over your messy bed and your phone was constantly dinging with messages from your group chat. you didn't show up to work, or to school that day, and by the looks of your random naps and binge watches on Netflix, you had forgot to call anyone to let them know you couldn't make it, including your boyfriend peter.

you kept coughing which made your head pulsate more as you wrapped your blanket around you and curled into it, squirming and desperately trying to get comfortable.

he was always super protective of you. sometimes it was really annoying but it felt good to know he was always thinking of you. and thats probably an understatement.

you felt sick. that might've been a blunt word, but everytime you tried to swallow your own spit it hurt like hell and you felt your head beating in pain like a heart would pump blood.

you groan and pull your comforter back over your head before you flutter your eyes closed and try to get your mind off the pain in your throat. It burned everytime you breathed which made you hiss uncomfortably. You eventually get yourself to fall asleep (after way too many doses of NyQuil) with half of your body immersed in your pillow.

you rested softly for a few hours before you woke to the sound of peter climbing through your window. you're eyes could barely adjust to the light as your tried to look up to see who it was, but your body was too tired to try and shake yourself up.

he rolled on the floor after falling from your complicated window sill but quickly got up with a groan.

he puffs, dusting him self off as he looks around the room for his girl.

"love?" peter looked around curiously to find you laying in your bed.

he carefully knelt down and shook you slightly as you woke up again with a jump.

you cough. "jesus, peter. you scared the shit out of me." you shift your arms behind you to prop yourself up, as he tucks a piece of your hair that fell back behind your ear.

"sorry," he laughs. "i just got really worried. I came as soon as I could. are you alright? why weren't you at school? or work- MJ said you didn't come."

his smile turns into a concerned perplexed look.

"uh", you sit up and rub your eye, coughing.

he noticed you sweating, and your puffy red eyes and a nose rubbed red.

"are you feeling okay?" his eyes and face look soft for you as his lip pouted a little.

he comes closer to you, kneeling down as he rests his hand on your forehead gently. you press your lips together and sniffle.

"pete, im fine."

"but- you're burning up!" he adds, as you look away from him.

"Why didn't you tell me earlier? i could've taken school off or-"

"peter." you look up.

"no." you croak, "i would never let you do that."

He puffs his cheeks and breathes out as he sits with you in your bed. You look in your boyfriends eyes as he turns his head to examine you.

"you don't look well, sweets." he frowns as he kisses the top of your forehead.

"i know", you say as you sniffle and your face starts to tickle a little.

he hands you a tissue as you sneeze in your sleeves. "bless you." he rests his tongue to the side of his mouth.

spidey senses.

"you okay?" he looks at you.

"mhm", you purse your lips.

you blow your nose as he looks at your face again.

"you gonna let me take care of you?" he holds his breath in worry.

you shake your head. "no."

he frowns again. "but you're sick! you're my girlfriend I can't just leave you here." He seems stressed, folding his his hands on your arms.

you cough and add, "i don't want you to get sick. plus, you have patrol tonight."

he shakes his head. "no way, im staying."

"No." you look in his eyes.

"Yes." he nods.

"No, peter."

"Yes, y/n." he crosses his arms.

you sigh.

"im staying right here." He says determinedly as he wraps his arms around you from behind and rests his chin on your shoulder. worry chilled up his spine for you.

"okay," you give up. "its cold anyway." you couldn't resist him. you didn't want him to patrol in the this insane cold weather anyways.

you pull a sweatshirt over your head.

"movie?" we whispers. "i'll get you snacks." he rubs your back softly.

you sweat a little and try to swallow.

you smile a little, "okay."

coughing, he rubs your arm. "are you okay?" he looks at you worriedly.

"im fine, my body just hurts."

he pulls you in a hug before kissing your head and leaving the room to go to the kitchen.

he gets back almost instantly with a bag of candy and popcorn, setting it on the bed and a mug of hot tea for your throat on the bedside table.

"can i get you anything else?" he looked sad.

your heart warmed and hurt at the same time.

"no, im okay."

he places a bowl of soup down next to the mug as you lean over to take it and sip it gently.

he lays in your bed as you open your laptop to the same crime documentary.

"again?" he groans, shifting his neck up against the pillow as he scrunches his face, looking at the ceiling.

as you giggle he looks up to see your smile which made his stomach hurt.

"yes, again." you try to hold back your lips from curling into a laugh.

he sighs and clicks the play button on your computer.

you rest your head on his chest, snuggling into him as he lays his arm around you, intertwining your hand into his.

"love you." he whispers in your hair softly, tucking a kiss to the back of your head.

taglist my idols/inspo @everythingisawayoflife @cafekitsune @luveline @scarthefangirl @elliexmylove @thevoidsaidnothanks @thestarvingwriter @spider-stark @bittenbyyou @incorrectmarvelquote @badass-dora-milaje @yes-i-am-happyaspie join my taglist ♡

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peterparkers-bad-youtube-apology · 2 years

Text

Baby Blues

Pairing: Mob!Tom x Reader

Warnings: angst, postpartum struggles, anxiety

Summary: You’re struggling to get back to normal after the birth of your son

Masterlist

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“Tom please,” you groaned in frustration, “Please just stay a little longer. I just need you to keep an eye on him while I shower.”

“Darling I can’t, I’ve got to get to this meeting,” he kissed your forehead and gave you a sympathetic smile, “I know you’re worried, but he’s sleeping. He won’t notice if you slip away for a moment and take a shower.”

“Tom he’s too young, I can’t leave him on his own yet.”

“I’m not saying leave him alone, just leave the bathroom door open so you can hear him if he starts crying,” he cupped your face, “I’ve really got to get going alright? I promise I won’t be long though. If you're really that worried just wait until I get back.”

“O-Okay,” you blushed, “Have a good meeting.”

“Thank you Peach,” he kissed both of your cheeks and then your lips, “I’ll let you know when I’m on my way back.”

You sighed, watching as he disappeared out the door, leaving you alone with the baby once again. Luca was sleeping peacefully in his bassinet, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to leave him alone there, even if you were just a few feet away in the shower. You were too worried that he would roll onto his stomach or somehow hurt himself. So instead of showering you laid on the bed and watched him sleep in the bassinet. You held one of his hands while he slept, massaging the back of his soft hand with your thumb.

It was nice, relaxing even, but he didn’t stay asleep for long. Luckily he wasn’t in a fussy mood and after a quick diaper change he was happy to lay on the bed while you cooed at him. Relief flooded over you when Tom finally returned home, you couldn’t wait to shower and finally take a few minutes to yourself. Feeling good about yourself had been a struggle since giving birth, and not being able to spend much time on self care certainly didn’t help.

“Tom,” you smiled happily as he entered your bedroom, “I’m so glad you're home.”

“Ah, me too Peach,” he pressed his lips to your and turned his attention to Luca, “How’s the little monster? Not giving you too much trouble I hope.”

“He’s good, I just hanged him, he might get hungry soon,” you began explaining, “You can just grab me if you need me.”

“I can handle it,” he assured you as he scooped Luca out of your arms, “I’m sorry I made you wait love, I want you to go take a nice, long, relaxing shower to make up for it.”

You let out a deep breath and nodded, “I-I will. Just come get me if he needs something.”

“I will,” he kissed you again before he began to coo at the boy in his arms, “Come on little devil, let’s give mommy a little break,” he peaked up at you, “Go on love, I’ve got him.”

You nodded and took another deep breath before you disappeared into the bathroom. You took a long and very hot shower that left you feeling very clean and very relaxed, at least until you left the bathroom. Tom and Luca were no longer in the bedroom where you’d left them, and it instantly sent your mind into a panic. Worriedly you ran to the nursery, but they weren’t in there either. Your heart was pounding and your mind was in overdrive, you were nearly in tears when you threw open Tom’s office door. At last you found them, Tom was seated at his desk with Luca’s bassinet right beside him.

Tom glanced up at you, a frown coming to his lips when he noticed how upset you looked, “What’s wrong Peach?”

You flushed angrily and stomped over to the bassinet. You lifted Luca out of it and cradled him to your chest, “You can’t just run off with him like that Tom!” you snapped as you rocked the boy in your arms, “How could you do that?!”

He went wide eyed, “I didn’t run off with, I just brought him to my office. We were only a few meters from you.”

“But I didn’t know where he was!” tears welled up in your eyes as you yelled at him, Luca started to bawl almost instantly, “A-And you’re supposed to be watching him!”

“I was watching him love, I had him right beside me,” he stood up, a deep frown etched on his face as he approached you, “Sweetheart what’s wrong?”

“You weren’t watching him!” you started to sob and pressed your lips to Luca’s head to try and calm him, “I-I didn’t know where he is and you just left him sitting there! I need to know where he is Tom, he’s just a baby.”

“I know, but I only took him to my office,” he rubbed your arms gently to try and soothe you, “Take a deep breath love, I’m sorry I scared you so bad but I promise I was taking care of him. He fell asleep so I laid him down, I wouldn’t just leave him there if he was awake.”

You took a deep, shaky breath and tried to compose yourself, “I just don’t want you taking him places and not telling me about it.”

“And I would never take him somewhere outside of the house without telling you,” he promised, pressing a kiss to one of your wet cheeks, “I only brought him to my office Peach.”

“But I’m his mom Tom, I should always know where he is. H-H needs me for everything, he’s only a month old.”

“I know Peach, I understand,” he cupped your face carefully, “I think you’re overreacting a bit though, and you seem really stressed. Why don’t I watch Luca today? You can go relax and take a little me day.”

“I was relaxed,” you flushed and turned away from him, “But then I couldn’t find my son and I got worried.”

“(y/n), it’s okay if you need help,” he brought you close to him again, “I know this has been way more stressful for you than it is for me and you’re trying to deal with postpartum stuff too, but I’m here for you, you can lean on me if you need to.”

“I don’t need help!” you back away from him again, “I’m not having problems Tom, h-he’s my son and I’m perfectly capable of taking care of him.”

“I didn’t say you weren’t love, I'm just trying to help,” he tried again, “I want to be here for you if you’re struggling.”

“I’m not,” you glared at him, “I’m taking Luca to the nursery. I need you to put the bassinet back in our room.”

“I will,” he promised with a sigh, “I love you.”

You just pursed your lips and left the room.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Tom decided to swing by the nursery around 2 to check on you and Luca. Luca was staring up at you while he ate, Tom watched as you cooed affectionately at him. He smiled at the sight and came to stand beside the rocking chair you were in.

“How are you darling?” he set his hand on your shoulder.

“Fine.”

“Wonderful, and how’s our little man?” he reached down to rub Luca’s cheek, “Eating lots, getting nice and strong?”

“Don’t bug him while he’s eating,” you scolded.

“Sorry,” he leaned over and kissed the top of your head, “Have you eaten yet Peach?”

You shook your head, “No, I haven’t had time.”

“You have to take care of yourself too,” he hummed, brushing some of your hair out of your face, “How about I go make you something and bring it up?”

“Will you stay and eat with me?” you blushed and looked up at him.

He nodded, “Of course, I’ll be right back.”

Tom ran to the kitchen and made a couple sandwiches for you both, he grabbed some fruit too, and a big water bottle for you. When he returned to the nursery you were burping Luca, patting his back and gently cooing at him. Tom offered to help but you refused so he sat up lunch on the floor for you instead. He pulled out a small cushioned mat and mobile for Luca and asked you to sit, but again you refused.

“He hasn’t burped yet,” you’d switched from standing to sitting with Luca laying down over your lap.

“You’ve been at it for a while Peach, maybe he just doesn’t have to burp,” he suggested, squeezing your leg gently, “Why don’t you put him on the mat for a little while so you can eat?”

You took a deep breath and nodded, “Okay, yeah.”

Tom kissed the back of one of your hands and took Luca from you. He carefully laid him on the mat and waited for you to join him. Tom had made sure to sit Luca beside him so he could take care of him if need be and you could focus on eating.

“Dig in,” he smiled at you.

A small smile graced your lips as you bit into the sandwich, “Thank you for making lunch.”

“I’m happy to do it,” he cleared his throat before continuing, “I’m sorry about earlier love.”

“It’s okay,” you sighed and blushed, “I-I know I overreacted, it’s just hard to be away from him right now. I get really anxious when he isn’t with me. I mean I’m his whole world right now, he needs me for everything.”

“I know he does darling,” Tom scooted closer to you and set his hand on your leg again, “It’s alright if you're feeling anxious or scared or anything else, I just need you to tell me so I can help you. I want to be here for you, and him. The last thing I ever want to do is make this harder on you.”

“Y-You aren’t,” you sighed, “You’re the only person I trust with him Tom. It’s just hard right now, I worry about him all the time, I just want to do everything right.”

“You are,” he assured, planting a kiss on your forehead, “(y/n) you’re a wonderful mother, it’s just like you said, you’re his whole world, he absolutely adores you. It’s okay if you're struggling with the postpartum stuff, the doctor said it can be really hard on some people, we can go talk to her about it if we need to.”

“It’s not that,” you insisted, “I’m okay, I’m just adjusting still. I’m sorry I snapped at you.”

“You don’t have to apologize, I understand that you’re under a lot of pressure and you’re hardly sleeping,” he frowned, “You know we could try the bottle again.”

You quickly shook your head, “No, no, he hated it Tom.”

“I know, but that was two weeks ago. They said between two and four weeks, it might be better now,” he sighed as Luca started to cry, you tried to get up to help but he stopped you, “Eat your lunch, I’ll take care of him.”

“He probably needs a pacifier,” you suggest.

“I got it Peach, just relax,” he took the small boy in his arms and began rocking him. Quickly the boy quieted down and began to coo up at his father, “If we got him on the bottles then I could start getting up with him in the night too, that way you could get some more sleep.”

Watching Tom rock him made you smile and you nodded, “Okay, but if he doesn’t like it still I don’t want to push him.”

“That’s alright, we’ll just give it another try,” he ticked the boy's stomach, “And you’re gonna start using those bottles aren’t you brat? You’ve been keeping your mom up non stop, she needs to sleep.”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Luca had been much more receptive to the bottles when you tried them again. It was nice because it allowed Tom to feed him at night so you could start catching up on some much needed sleep. Unfortunately the extra sleep did nothing to calm your nerves. You still couldn’t stand to be away from Luca for more than a few minutes, and you hated to see anyone but you and Tom holding him. Tom’s parents had come to visit and it took everything in you not to snap at his mom while she held Luca. You felt awful, you loved and trusted Nikki with all of your heart, but the second she picked him up your mind began spiraling to a million worst case scenarios.

Struggling so hard made you feel awful, like you were a bad mom. You thought both your son and husband deserved better, but you kept your struggles to yourself. Tom did his best to help you but work kept him very busy, and it was hard to get through to you when you wouldn’t open up to him. That’s why he had again brought up the idea of going talking to your doctor about possible postpartum struggles, but you just couldn’t stand to hear it. Everything he said just amplified your own anxious thoughts, you couldn’t handle Tom also thinking that you were a bad mother.

“I don’t need help Tom!” you snapped at him as soon as he brought the idea up, “I’m perfectly fine! You’re not even around enough to realize how fine I am!”

His cheeks flushed and his eyes widen, “I-I’m sorry, if you need me around more th-”

“No! That’s not what I said!” you pinched your nose in frustration. You didn’t want to make him feel bad, you just wanted him to think you were capable, “I’m just saying you’re not here all the time. I am perfectly fine okay? I can take care of our son, I’m gonna be a good mom. I’m just adjusting still, I can’t get used to all of this overnight.”

“I don’t expect you too, we both knew things would be different,” he reached for you, a deep frown came to his lips when you pushed him away, “It just seems like you're really struggling here and I want to help. I don’t want you to feel so stressed out all the time, and it’s alright if you don’t want to talk to me about it, but your doctor-”

“Will you stop bringing up the fucking doctor?!” you cut him off, suddenly tears were welling in your eyes and you found yourself crying again, “I don’t want to talk to the fucking doctor Tom. I don’t want to, I don’t need to, I-I can do this.”

You’re yelling had woken up Luca, causing him to start crying in his bassinet. Tom looked between you and him, his mouth hanging open as he debated what to do. Of course he wanted to reach out and comfort you but Luca demanded his attention. So he got out of bed and scooped the boy from his bassinet before sitting down on the edge of the bed. He cooed at the boy and rocked him while you sniffled alone on your side of the bed.

“(y/n)?” Tom peaked over you.

You refused to look at him, instead drawing your legs to your chest and hugging yourself tight, “What?”

“I love you.”

“Yeah, you too,” you mumbled into your knees.

“Do you wanna take him for a second?” he offered a now calmed Luca to you with a smile, “Look, he’s smiling at you, I think he wants you,” the tiniest smile graced your lips and you opened up your arms to take the baby from him. Tom wiped your eyes as he handed him over, “See? He totally adores you.”

You rocked Luca for just a moment before he started to sob once more. You felt your own anxiety spiking again and passed him back to Tom so he could sooth him again. Tom blushed as he took him, he apologized to you as he rocked the boy in his arms. He started to settle again and your heart dropped into your stomach.

“It’s probably his stomach,” Tom tried to assure you, “I mean he ate a little bit ago, he’s about due for a new diaper.”

You felt so awful and you were already so exhausted that you just didn’t have it in you to say anything else. You didn’t want to argue with him about doctors or whether or not you needed help, and you didn’t want to stay up and watch Tom take care of your son when you couldn’t. So you rolled over while Tom climbed out of bed, deciding it would be better for you to stare at the wall until you fell asleep.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

When you woke up the following morning you were still exhausted. Tom had gotten up with Luca throughout the night in an effort to let you get some more sleep, but it hadn’t really helped. Your anxiety kept you up through most of the night.

It certainly didn’t help that Luca had been in a fussy mood all morning. Nothing could keep his attention for more than a few minutes and when you sat down to try and feed him he refused to latch. He just kept crying and you did your best to soothe him while you moved him to your other breast, hoping that would fix the issue.

You ran into the same problem of him refusing to latch and you had no idea what to do. You tried some things the doctors told you could help him latch but none of them helped. He was obviously hungry, and you were trying to help, but he just wouldn’t eat. You felt awful listening to him cry and you tried to rock him and sooth him the best you could but nothing helped. It became too much for your sleep deprived mind and you found yourself starting to cry too.

“Come on Luca, you’ve got to eat,” you tried to prompt him, “We’ve done everything else, I know you’re hungry. We’ve done it a million times, you’ve just got to latch on okay? Come on,” you tried again but he only started crying harder when you brought his mouth to you, which made you cry even harder too, “I’m trying so hard Luca, I’m sorry, please eat for me.”

When Tom walked into the nursery he found the rocking chair facing the window, gently rocking back and forth. Luca was crying and when he stepped closer he was shocked to find you were sobbing just as hard. You had him cradled to your chest, like he was about to eat, but he was just bawling.

“What’s wrong?” Tom asked curiously.

“He won’t eat,” you sobbed, “I-I’ve been trying and trying and he just won’t latch on. I don’t know what to do Tom. I know he’s hungry but he won’t eat, I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.”

“You aren’t doing anything wrong,” he assured you, pressing a kiss to your forehead before he bent down in front of you, “Why don’t I grab a bottle and give that a try? It seems like you could use a minute.”

Reluctantly you nodded and passed Luca to him. Tom rocked the boy in his arms and cooed at him while he warmed up a bottle. Luca calmed down a bit while his father rocked him, but he kept crying until the bottle was ready. With no effort at all Tom got him to take the bottle, he stopped crying in an instant and made happy little sounds while he ate.

“There we go buddy. That’s better right?” Tom poked his nose with a smile, “Just wanted to be a brat huh?”

You were happy he was eating, but you hated how easily Tom had calmed him and gotten to eat. You hated that he’d taken the bottle over you. He was barely over a month old, he was supposed to love you more than anything in the world, but he’d picked a plastic bottle over you. It made you feel awful and reminded you of your failure to be the kind of mother he deserved. All you wanted to do was curl up in bed and cry.

“Tom?” you sniffled.

He smiled over at you, “Do you wanna take over?”

You shook your head, “No, I-I just really need some sleep. Could you watch him for a little while?”

“Of course,” he nodded, “Take all the time you need, I’ll stay with him.”

“Thank you,” your hands trembled as you stood.

Tom leaned over to give you a kiss, you barely let your lips brush his before you left the room. You ran right to your bedroom and threw yourself onto the bed. You pulled a pillow to your chest and ended up crying yourself to sleep there.

While you were sleeping Tom took care of Luca, but he came by your room to check on you. He found you were curled up on your bed, clutching a pillow with puffy, tear stained cheeks and red eyes. It made him feel awful, he wanted so badly to help you but he wasn’t sure how. He knew he couldn’t let you continue to feel so awful, he had to do something. Just talking to you didn’t seem like a great idea since last time he tried to get you to open up you’d just ended up fighting. Instead he ended up calling Harrison and his brothers over to help him come up with something. After a bit of plotting, Sam helped him cook a nice dinner for you and he went up to your room to wake you up. You were groggy and tired as he pulled you over to the nursery where Harrison was waiting.

“Why is Harrison here?” you blushed.

“Because he’s going to watch Luca for us,” Tom smiled happily at you but your heart rate skyrocketed instantly, “I know you don’t like being away from him though, so we aren’t going to go far. I just thought you and I could have a nice dinner down in the garden. Harrison will watch Luca and Sam and Harry are here too in case he needs help, but I’m sure he won’t.”

You pursed your lips, reluctant to hand over the baby in your arms, “I-I don’t know Tom.”

“(y/n) you don’t have to worry,” Harrison assured you, he stepped up to you with open arms, “You two will be just down stairs, I promise I’ll take the best care of him in the world.”

“Harrison is his godfather,” Tom reminded you, “We decided we trust him enough to raise him, I’m sure we can leave him in his care for just a few hours.”

“I do trust him,” you blushed, “B-But he’s so young.”

“I could come down there with you,” Harrison offered, “If you’d rather he be close to you I could come down and sit just a few feet away with him the whole time. It’s okay if you’re anxious about it, but Tom told me you’ve been really stressed and I want to help however I can. Even if it’s just watching the baby for a night.”

You took a deep breath before you passed Luca over to him, “I-It’s okay, you can stay up here with him. Just promise you’ll come get us if he gets too fussy?”

“Of course, go enjoy your date,” he wrapped his free arm around you and kissed the top of your head, “Try and relax a little.”

You nodded and kissed Luca’s head, “Be good for Hazzy okay?”

“He will be, he wants his mom to have a nice relaxing evening,” Tom kissed your cheek and took your hand, “Come on, let’s get some food in you.”

Tom led you downstairs, Harry and Sam were busy at work in the kitchen finishing dinner and dessert for you. They greeted you happily and insisted you go sit down and let them take care of you. Outside was a small outdoor dining table and chairs you and Tom had eaten at a lot before Luca was born. The fresh air felt nice and helped ease your nerves about being away from Luca.

“It’s nice out here,” you commented, “I don’t think I’ve been outside in a few weeks.”

“Dinner’s here!” Harry interrupted, beaming as he sat a plate in front of each of you, “I hope you’re both hungry.”

“It’s not good for you love,” Tom squeezed your thigh.

“I know, but I don’t want Luca to get sick.”

You giggled while he played waiter for you both, “Thanks Harry.”

“You’re welcome, enjoy,” he winked while he walked away.

Tom chuckled, “I helped Sam with some of the cooking so I hope it’s good.”

“I’m sure it will be,” you couldn’t help but glance up at the nursery window, “Did he eat again?”

Tom nodded, “Yeah, just a little bit ago, and he’s got plenty of bottles up there,” Tom frowned as your face fell, “What’s wrong?’

“Nothing,” you bit your cheek, “I-I’m trying not to worry about him too much.”

“It’s okay if you are. We can talk about it.”

You looked away shamefully, “It’s okay, I’m sure I’ll get over it.”

“Not if you don’t talk about it,” he pushed again, “I don’t want to fight again, but I really want to help you, and I know you’re struggling. You spent half of today crying, I hate seeing you like that.”

“It’s not a big deal,” you tried again, “I’ll be okay Tom.”

“It is a big deal, you’re my wife, I want to take care of you,” he scooted his chair closer to yours so he could take both of your hands, “I can tell you're struggling but I need you to let me in so I can help you. I feel awful (y/n), we’ve never had problems like this, I-I don’t know if I did something or what but I just want to fix it.”

Your bottom lip started to quiver and you felt your eyes starting to water again, “It’s not you Tom.”

“Then what is it? Please let me help, I’m your husband, I love you so much. I just want to give you, and our son, the best life I can.”

“I-It’s Luca,” you mumbled, sinking into your chair to try and hide, “I feel so anxious all the time. I hate it when I’m not with him, I hate it when anyone else holds him. I feel like I can’t trust anyone but you with him, and I just don’t know what to do. I feel like such a bad mom. I don’t understand why I’m struggling so much, a-and then today I couldn’t even feed him!” you were sobbing at that point, “He’s just a baby, he’s supposed to need me still.”

“(y/n),” he pulled you to his chest so you could sob against him, “You aren’t a bad mom, it’s alright to struggle. And he absolutely does need you, he might just prefer the bottle sometimes. It doesn’t mean anything, you’re still the one providing for him.”

“What if I never get better? What if I’m just terrified all the time and I smother him and he ends up hating me.”

“You won’t, I promise you won’t,” he rocked you in his arms while he spoke, “There is nothing wrong with needing help with this, struggling doesn’t make you a worse mom. The doctor told us lots of people struggle with postpartum, remember? And I’ve been doing a little research on it, it’s a lot more common than you think. You just had a baby, your hormones are crazy right now, and your body is trying to heal. It would be unfair to expect you to get better overnight,” he let out a deep sigh, “I know a lot of this is on me too. I haven’t been there as much as I should be, I shouldn’t be working right now. I should be taking time off so I can take care of you and Luca, I’m sorry I haven’t been carrying my weight here.”

You blushed and shook your head, “It’s not your fault Tom, I know you’re doing what you can.”

“I haven’t been doing enough,” he kissed the side of your head, “Look I talked to Harrison and my brothers and they’ve agreed to take charge for a while so I can take a step back and focus on you and Luca. It’s what I should have done from the beginning, I’m sorry that I didn’t.”

“You don’t have to do that Tom.”

“Yes I do, you’re my wife, and he’s my son. You two are my whole world, I need to be there for both of you,” he wiped your eyes while you sniffled and tried to calm yourself again.

“I-I’m sorry Tom,” you choked on your own words as you spoke.

“Sorry?” he frowned, “Darling you have nothing to be sorry for, I’m the one who fucked up.”

“B-But things have been so different,” you looked away from him, “I’m always tired and I look like shit all the time. My bodies all fucked up annd we can’t even have sex anymore, y-you deserve better than that.”

“Don’t ever say something like that to me again,” he said sternly, “Your body is not fucked up, your body just gave us our son, and now it needs time to heal, you need time to heal. I’m so sorry you’ve been feeling so bad about yourself, but I hope you know I still think you’re the most gorgeous person in the world, and I promise I always will. There is nothing on earth I would rather have than you and our son, I’m the luckiest person in the whole universe,” he pulled you back to him and you buried your head in his chest, “Now it’d be stupid for me to say I don’t care about sex, because I obviously like having sex with you, but I don’t expect that from you, and I never will. If you never wanted to have sex again it wouldn’t make me love you any less.”

“I wanna have sex again,” you mumbled against his chest, making him laugh and squeeze you again.

“Yeah I do too, I’d like to give Luca some brothers and sisters,” he sighed and rubbed your back gently, “But you know if this is too much and you don’t want to have any more kids after this then that’s okay too. All I want is for you to get better so we can enjoy our son together.”

“I just wanna be normal and be able to do things with him without freaking out.”

“You’ll get there darling, it’ll get better,” he promised, “And I’ll be here every step of the way for whatever you need.”

“Thank you Tommy,” you pulled back from him just enough to press your lips to his, “Luca’s really lucky to have you as his dad, and I’m even luckier to have you as my husband.”

“Are you crazy? We’re obviously the lucky ones,” he nuzzled his nose against yours, “I know you’ve been pretty against going to the doctor, and I don’t want to upset you by bringing it up again, but I really think you should think about it. She knows how to help you with this, and as much as I love you, I don’t have that. She'll be able to help you better than me, or anyone else, can.”

You flushed but ended up nodding, “I-I want to go see her Tom, I want to feel better. I want to be able to sleep more and take him out places and let other people hold him.”

“You will, I promise you will. We’ll call her first thing tomorrow so we can get in as quickly as possible,” he placed one of his hands on your cheek, “There’s nothing wrong with needing help, and there’s lots of people around you that love you and want to help you. I mean just look at tonight, Haz and my brothers dropped everything so they could be here for you. We all wanted to give you a nice night and help you relax for a little while. I promise we’ll all be here to help you get better too.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and buried your face in his neck. For the first time since you’d come home from the hospital you finally felt at peace. You knew it would still take time to get better, but it was a start. It was comforting just to know Tom would be there with you from now on, that you could lean on him until you were better.

“Thank you for doing all this Tommy,” you mumbled against his neck.

“You’re welcome Peach,” he kissed your head and squeezed you against him, “You really don’t have to mention it though, I’m just trying to be a good husband.”

“You’re the best husband.”

“You’re perfect,” he nuzzled his nose against yours again before he kissed you, “I love you.”

“And you’re the best wife,” he chuckled, “So how does my gorgeous wife feel about finishing our dinner? Then maybe we can talk about something that won’t make you cry for a while?”

You nodded, “That sounds perfect Tom.”

You smiled wide and pressed your lips to his again, “I love you too.”

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rancidpancakebatter · 1 year

Text

Love n' Locs | {P.P.}

Pairings: MCU!Peter Parker x Black!Female!Reader

Summary: Peter, your love, helps you with your hair. (Takes place after nwh)

Word Count: 4.4k words

Content Warnings: Minors DNI Smut (female receiving), shower sex, multiple orgasms, swearing, May's death is mentioned briefly but nothing graphic, tooth-rotting fluff that made me cry while writing it

( Masterlist )

A/N: HAPPY BLACK HISTORY MONTH!!! I PROMISE TO BE AS INSUFFERABLE AS POSSIBLE!!! (and also to not write angsty black!reader fics during this time because we have suffered enough. Only Joy <3 )

You had the sweetest boyfriend in the whole world. He was so lovely and entirely devoted. He brought you flowers. He knew your favourite foods. He gave you hoodies and kisses when you were down. He held you close and listened intently. He encouraged you to chase your dreams and held your hand when you got scared.

You had never known love like this before. The kind that steals your breath every day. But that was just who Peter was. You would never get enough of him- but what was even more amazing, you know he feels the same.

He was a white boy, and you loved to tease him about his previous love interests. He always got a rosy blush when you called him a “snow bunny,” but he never got offended, recognising that you were only joking. He would sometimes call you his “melanated queen,” but only when making fun of people who did so sincerely.

He was refreshing in that sense. You had been around more than enough “woke” people who weirdly worshipped your blackness, but not Peter. He celebrated it; he celebrated you.

Race wasn’t something that came up often between you. He would listen to your frustrations as they arose, but he never commented on the fact that you were black.

He never fetishized or tip-toed around you. Peter was a genuine ally, never feeling like he had to make a show of how much he believed your life mattered. He just supported and only acted when you asked him to. He may have a hero complex, but he didn’t suffer from the white saviour complex, and for that, you were grateful.

You woke up this morning feeling almost overwhelmed by that gratitude. Peter was asleep, his curls strewn about the pillow. You had convinced him to grow them out. You promised to play around all day with his hair, finding the right products and creams to use. He agreed because he loves it when you play with his hair.

His lips were slightly parted, plush and pink. A smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose glows in the early morning sun. They were very subtle, almost imperceptible unless you got the opportunity to track them down, inches from his face. You were happy to say you got that opportunity often.

Basked in light and in your arms is where he belonged. Not on the streets, fighting crime. He deserved to rest. He was exhausted last night. His eyes were half closed as he clambered out of his suit, tripping on the feet. He only agreed to a shower when you offered to join. You would have joined regardless, but there was no way in hell this man was climbing in your sheets covered in soot.

“I can feel you staring.” A small smirk pulled at his lips though his eyes remained closed.

You didn’t respond with words, instead deciding to pepper his sweet face with kisses. You felt his smile grow as you went, until it fell into a full-on laugh.

You swear his laughter had a direct line to your heart, the sound filled you, and your heart swelled to adjust. His hands found purchase on your hips and rolled you over until he was on his back and slotted between your thighs. His favourite place to be.

“You’re just so nice to look at, so handsome,” You tease.

You continue in your ministrations, your lips painting a path from his jaw to his cheek, his eyelids and his brows, up his forehead and down the bridge of his nose. All while cradling his face. Holding him like he was your most precious possession. Something deserving of the Louvre or the Tate. You poured out your love, letting it seep into his soft, golden skin.

While Peter was a giver, he struggled to receive. You took any opportunity to remind him how much you loved him, how much you appreciated him. You felt his deft fingers worm their way under your sleepshirt, where they fronted an attack.

“Pete!-”

You collapsed against his chest as your body racked with giggles. He flipped you around again, and you could do nothing as he continued to tickle you.

“Pe-Pete, no!”

His hands stilled but held you firmly. You slowed your breathing and finally opened your eyes. They were met with glowing stars, burning bright and filled with adoration. You tucked your head into the crook of his neck, feeling flustered by his unabashed gaze.

He only chuckles as he pulls you up to sit in his lap. His hands move to your back, painting soothing circles across your skin. You melt into the touch. You get hit with another wave of love, feeling it pulse against your ribcage. You begin leaving kisses across his neck, trailing across his collarbones. Peter takes the time to work his hands up your sides, massaging the muscle as he goes. You truly are putty in this man’s hands.

You find yourself on the other side of his neck, releasing a sweet sigh as his hands worked over your shoulders. His hands move to your neck, focusing on any knot he finds until they’re all gone.

You wrap your arms around his waist, pulling yourself closer and encouraging him to keep going. He removes your bonnet, setting it to the side, and massages your scalp. This was heaven. You moan at the feeling, and Peter chuckles.

“I really should be doing this for you.” Your words are muffled and slurred, but you know Peter hears them.

“Eh,” He shrugs, “it’s black history month.”

You both fall into a fit of laughter. Eventually, his hands disappear from your scalp, reappearing under your chin. You let it guild you, bringing you face-to-face with him. His smile is lazy and warm.

“Do I get any real kisses this morning?” You tilt your head to the side and pretend to ponder it.

You let out a dramatic sigh, though, with your wide smile- you fool no one. “I guess you’ve earned it.”

Kissing Peter was one of your favourite pastimes. In a perfect world, your lips would only feel his skin. Always attached in some way. But these kisses were your favourite. The kind where your smiles get in the way. The slow and steady kind, where there’s all the passion but none of the rush. You simply get to be, enjoy, and love. His are soft and sure.

You feel safe here in his hands, treasured. Your arms rest lazily around his neck, your nails tracing shapes on his back. Peter tilts his head, deepening the kiss. His tongue swipes at your lips, and you don’t hesitate to part them. It dances with yours and makes you dizzy. You get lost in it for a moment before you pull away. Peter whines, and you can’t help but laugh at his little pout.

“Sorry, bub, I got a full day ahead of me, and I need to get started.” He squeezes your waist, and you jump as your nerves alight, sending those familiar giggles to your brain.

“But it’s your day off,” he says through his frown. “And mine…we get the whole day together.”

You lay a quick kiss on his jutted lip, “Yeah, but it’s wash day. And I wanna braid it out. That’s gonna take all day.”

Peter hangs his head in defeat for a moment before it shoots back up. He beams, sitting up straighter as he presents his idea. “I could help.”

Scepticism falls on your brow, “You wanna help…?”

He looks at you as if you’ve issued a challenge. “What? You don’t think I can?”

You laugh as you link your hands behind his neck. “I think you can; I just don’t think you understand the commitment you’re making. It takes me upwards of nine hours to do my hair.”

He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer and resting his chin on your chest. Your hands run through his hair as he gazes up at you like you hung every star in the night sky. “Well, I’ll be here, and you’ll be here, so I might as well help.”

You couldn’t argue with that logic.

“Peter, when you said you’d help, I didn’t think you meant like this.”

You were currently in the shower with your boyfriend pressed against you. His hands trailed up and down your stomach as he pressed sweet kisses down your neck. You felt his lips tug at the side, a smirk you knew well.

“Don’t worry about me. You can wash your hair, just pretend I’m not even here.” His lips find the spot that makes you shudder. He holds you closer, knowing your legs weaken when he does that.

“That’s not fair; you’re very distracting,” you retort as your hand reaches up to tangle in his hair.

Pete’s hands find your hips and give them a firm squeeze. He knew you loved it when he showed off how strong he was. He was playing you like a fiddle, but you couldn’t bother to be mad.

“Do you want me to stop?”

Peter knew the answer. He caught the way your pulse quickened when he suggested you shower together. He heard your breath hitch when he took off his pants. He could smell you even as he lathered you with soap. You just liked to tease; you liked to act tough. But your bravado quickly crumbled for him. And he loved that. That your gentleness, your piety, was only for him.

“No”

It left your mouth in a puff of air. So soft and sweet, whispered with the water. Peter wasted no time dipping a hand into your slit. His finger probed around, collecting your slick and teasing you further. His foot found yours and kicked it, spreading you apart farther. You moaned softly as he licked up the collum of your throat.

“All this for me?” He rubbed small circles on your clit, a small taste of what he could do, and you both knew it.

“It’s just the shower.” His other hand reached up, gripping you by the jaw and twisting your face towards him.

“I don’t think it is”

He picked up the pace and swallowed your moans. His pillowy soft lips devour you hungrily, and you can feel his hard-on in the crest of your ass. He rips away from your lips, and his hand goes to your boobs, pinching and pulling on your nipples. He enters you with one of his thick digits. He shows no mercy as he thrusts it into you, finding your g-spot in a matter of seconds. Peter knew your body well and loved reminding you of that.

He adds another finger, and your body involuntarily jerks, chasing Peter in all directions. He hisses as you grind against him. Your toes are curling, and the steam makes it hard to catch your breath. All too soon, he removes himself. You whine as your high is stolen from you.

He waits until your eyes are on him before he brings his fingers to his mouth. He hallows his cheeks around them before pulling them out with a soft pop and a moan. You watch with wide eyes as he runs his tongue across them, collecting every drop of your essence.

“You taste so good, baby.”

He presses his praise into your skin- down your neck and across your shoulders. He continues down a path, following the curve of your spine. He takes quite the bite out of your ass, causing you to yelp, before continuing to nibble on your thighs.

Your hand tries to grip the wall and provide you with balance, just his gentle touches making you shake with anticipation. He notices this and throws your legs over his shoulders, your back pressed gently against the cold tile.

“You okay, baby?” You try to slow your breathing, nails scraping against his scalp, the wet curls wrapping around your fingers.

“Yeah, I'm good.” Peter loved communication; it was important to him. Though often, he would steal your ability to string anything coherent together.

“Good, 'cause I haven’t had breakfast, and I’m hungry." He sent you a wink before disappearing between your thighs.

You let out a cry as he suckles your clit. His grip on your thighs is bruising as he spreads them farther apart, whipping his head furiously between them. You’re seeing stars.

This is a stark difference from the sweet kisses you shared this morning. This was need, hunger, a carnal desire. He was chasing your high as much as you were. He moved his tongue inside you, the pink muscle scraping against your walls. You ground your hips down, and you both moaned.

You, because your clit bumped his nose, a jolt through your nerves that brought you closer and closer to your peak. And Peter, because he loves when you get off to him like this. He loves that he gets to see you like this, on the brink of desperation and lost in desire. He loves that he can make you this way. That he’s the only one who can.

Eating you out is Peter’s favourite pastime. In a perfect world, he would spend every moment between your thighs, drinking from the fountain of you, never satiated.

He grinds his face into you, loving how you flutter around his tongue. He loved every way your body told him you loved this. It was like picking up a new language. He knew the meaning of every twitch, sound, and pulse. He was fluent in you.

He felt the way your thighs were shaking and knew you were right there, you just needed a little push, and he was happy to provide. He cages your leg against his shoulder as he reaches around and presses firmly against your clit.

“Fuck! Pete!”

You cry his name, and he thinks it’s his favourite sound. It spurs him on further. He only wants you to respond like that. He moves his thumb, spelling his name as if your brain would subconsciously pick up on it, and you would say it again. He’s fucking you with his mouth and marking you as his.

Your orgasm crashes through you, a broken moan ripping from your chest, completely overwhelmed by pleasure. Peter continues to fuck you through it, drawing it out for as long as he can. Wanting everything you had to give him. He really was hungry.

Your body convulses, your grip on his curls strong as you try to pull him away. This doesn’t dissuade Peter by any means. He knows you can cum again; he needs you to cum again.

Your pulling on his hair inadvertently brings him closer, and he revels in it. His mouth trades places with his fingers, giving your clit a small break from his brutal beating.

However, you don’t recognise it as a “break”. Your sensitivity sends your brain into overdrive, or underdrive- you weren’t sure. All thoughts were half-baked, and your muscles were moving of their own accord. You were glad Peter was there to hold you because there was no way you would have been able to support yourself.

“Pe-Peter! I-unghhh”

Peter had to fight his grin, knowing that he rendered your brain useless, only able to think of him and your high. There was truly no more beautiful sight. Your jaw slacked, as a cacophony of lewd sounds fell from your open lips. Your brows furrowed as you chase your peak. Your unfocused eyes, half-lidded, looking down, searching for him. Your body quaking around him. He wished he could capture this moment on camera, encapsulate this moment forever.

You pushed your hips forward in a final thrust, taking his fingers deeper and his unholy tongue pressing harder against your sensitive bud. This time you scream, nearly collapsing over. Peter brings a hand to your throat, keeping you upright while he drinks from your fountain.

He gently removes his fingers from your core, and you whine slightly, bringing a spirited smile to his face. He wrapped your legs around his waist, admiring your completely blissed-out face. You were so beautiful. In any way, but especially this way.

You rested your head in the crook of his neck, not caring that you were panting on your auditorily sensitive, always-way-too-warm, boyfriend. To be fair, he didn’t care either. He would suffer through anything to hold you like this. And it was deserved. He did kinda render you useless.

He laid a kiss to your temple and you hummed, cuddling into him more. “Alright, coach me through the washing.”

He listened intently as you told him how much product to use and where to massage it in. He was careful to try and keep all the shampoo on your scalp, heeding your warnings of drying out your curls. He was so tender and sweet. He was much gentler with your hair than you ever were.

He peppered you with kisses as he coaxed you under the shower head. Despite your recovery and your ability to stand once again, Peter refused to let you down. Keeping you wrapped around him like a koala or sloth. You couldn’t say you minded all that much.

Peter was most excited to brush your hair. He had never really gotten to do that, as you only ever did it in the shower. He felt proud that you trusted him to do it now. It felt intimate, special.

Sometimes he would get to brush May’s hair. It was long and beautiful, and when he was younger, she would let him if he asked. He would have her sit on the floor as he stood tall, bending at the knees to accommodate his short little arms. He missed those moments with her. He missed her. But in you, he found new things to miss, and he was forever grateful for that.

He continues to run the comb through your hair, even when the knots were gone, because he loved how you melted into him. You were practically purring, and it felt nice to take care of you for a change.

He couldn’t count how many times you had patched him up, made him food because he had forgotten to eat, checked up on him, or helped him through an existential crisis. You were always there for him, his rock. He would be lost without you.

The water started to get cold, so you begrudgingly left, feeling a little betrayed by your water heater for ruining such a wonderful moment. Peter only set you down then, but ordered you to stay on the bathmat. You chuckled as you watched him run, butt-ass naked, through the hall. When he returned, he held a few towels and worn shirts in his hand. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to his smile. It will always make your heart stutter.

“Arms up,” He directs and you follow.

He wraps a towel around you, and you can’t stop the satisfied sigh that leaves your mouth. It was warm and fluffy, almost enough to put you to sleep. Once he’s secured it around you, he gently moves your arms back to your sides and places a sacrosanct kiss on your lips. Your only complaint was that it was too short; your body naturally follows him as he pulls away.

He chuckles, “Steady sailor. We still got a lot of work to do. Can’t get distracted now.”

You lovingly swat at him, and he rewards you with a laugh, one that squishes his eyes and crinkles his nose. It takes everything in you not to kiss him silly. But it’s not your fault; he knows better than to look at you like that.

“I brought you these to choose from. I remember you telling me cotton is better for your hair. So, here’s three of my shirts to choose from, and whatever you don’t pick, we get to wear.”

You can’t help but beam at him. You felt absolutely spoiled. You weren’t sure what you did to deserve such royal treatment. Usually, this kind of behaviour was reserved for birthdays and other such occasions. Not a Thursday afternoon.

But you relished in it anyway, telling him which shirt you wanted to wear and which one you wanted to use. He kissed you on the nose as he passed them both to you.

You explain every step you take as you do them, even coaching Pete through some parts as you let him try it. Peter is amazed by all the products and smells. He’s a little embarrassed as he struggles through some steps; you work with such grace and ease. You explain that the steps are a little different because you’re styling your hair today, instead of enhancing your natural curls. Peter tries his best to commit everything to memory.

While you’re blowing out your hair, Peter leaves to make breakfast. You don’t really need his help for it, and honestly, the sound of the fan bouncing around the tiled walls was a bit too grating for him. As he whips up your favourite breakfast meal, he scrolls through google images, trying to get a better idea of what you were wanting to do.

He sees a lot of looks he thinks you would like, but one sticks out the most. He hadn’t really seen it before, but he thinks you would look absolutely stunning. He’s watching a tutorial when you enter the kitchen. He’s so engrossed in the video you startle him as you wrap your arms around him.

His spidey senses work differently around you, and that’s something he’s still figuring out. His best guess is it doesn’t warn him about you because there’s not a single bone in his body that sees you as a threat. You’re the only person since he was fourteen who could sneak up on him. You don’t often do it on purpose, either. And he thinks his body knows that too.

Usually, his “tingle” lays dormant unless there’s a general danger, but now it’s…evolved in a way. If he focuses, he can almost feel you. He can just think of you, and his body will tell him if you’re distressed and where you are. His instincts lead him like a compass- to you, his true north.

There have been more than a few times he rushed home to check on you just to see that you’ve dropped something or were watching a scary movie by yourself...again. He loved it, though. He had never felt so close to anyone before. He loved that there were no defences between you.

“Whatcha watchin'?”

Pete pauses the video before he turns in your arms.

“Have you heard of butterfly locs?” You grin, delightfully surprised.

"Yes, I have,” you say as you peck him on the nose. “Why?”

“Well, it’s your hair, and you can do whatever you want. And I’ll help no matter what you decide. But I think you would look absolutely gorgeous in them. And you can do fun colours or add funky charms. But also, I know you said you were planning on the box braids, and I’m unsure how easy it would be to switch up the plan like that.”

God, could you love this man anymore?

“It’s actually really easy. I still have to make a Sally’s run; I haven’t bought any hair yet. Do you wanna come with?” Peter nods his head fervently, and you can’t help but giggle at his excitement.

Pete is in awe of the selection here. He had no idea there were so many options. He excitedly asks questions, and you’re happy to answer all of them to the best of your understanding. He happily holds everything you pass him and even convince him to get some products for himself, like a hair mask and some mousse.

When you get home, Peter shows you the videos he watched and his strategy. He helps you section your hair and tries not to complain about the sticky gel too much. With his help, it doesn’t take nearly as long. You play around with the length and stylings, and once finished you’re very happy with it.

Peter was right; you look fine as hell. You check yourself out in the mirror and laugh when you catch Peter watching you from his seat on the bed through the reflection. He’s completely in his own world, his eyes ooze raw adulation, and you can’t help but feel a little flustered.

You walk over, slotting yourself between his legs. His hands come to rest on your hips, something he doesn’t even think to do. It’s just so natural. It’s where his hands belong.

“Do you like it?”

His expression never falters, as if he didn’t even hear you.

“Did you know that I am so in love with you? Like do you know? Because I am. So, so, very in love with you.”

You feel your cheeks warm, “Yes, I know.”

His dopey smile stretches, “I don’t think you do. But I’ll be sure to tell you until you’re sick of hearing it.”

Your heart is doing summersaults, “I don’t think that’s possible.”

He places a kiss to your sternum, “Well, I’ll do my very best.”

Suddenly you’re being pulled forward. You land directly on Pete, and if you weren’t aware of all his body was capable of, you might have worried about hurting him. Instead, you giggle at his antics and let him hold you tight.

Your new locs fall around his face, and he doesn’t think he’s ever felt so lucky. Here, hidden behind the curtain of your hair, it’s just you and him. You lay there for a while like that, just drinking the other in. It’s the perfect respite from all the chaos in the world. Your hearts beating together, your love flowing between you.

“I got you something,” Peter whispers.

There’s no need for anything louder in this proximity. “What?”

His hand leaves your waist, and you hear a familiar thwip, then the crinkling of a bag.

Peter opens his palm to you, and a small gasp leaves your lips. There rested a little charm; hung on a small ring. You picked it up and admired how it twinkled in the evening sun. A little spider, from your man. You sat up, looking in the mirror as you strung it through a loc.

“Petey, it’s perfect!”

“Not as perfect as you.”

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