#uni!peter parker

[silkscream]

💌for peter cumming in his pants while giving you head

also happy 2k followers bae you deserve it!

AHHHHHH

18+ only!! mdni

the two of you have just barely been dating -- you like to think of it as a fling that’s developed over the past month, peter likes to think that you're just being nice, if being nice usually meant having sex twice a week after studying in your apartment.

he was too shy to admit that you'd been his first, but you wouldn't have believed him if he hadn't told you. he carried himself with that lovesick eagerness, hell, he was fucking obsessed with you since he met you in line at the fucking dining hall.

and now he’s here with you and his knees are on the floor of your bedroom while you’re bent over kissing his mouth.

“can i give you head? please?” he mumbles into your mouth.

“if you really want to,” you chuckle.

“i’m-- i, uh, i’ve never done this before.”

“it’s okay, i’ll guide you, baby,” you coo softly.

his mouth is practically watering at the sight of your bare thighs, plush in his warm hands. he yanks down your underwear with so much fervor that you’d think he was seeing you naked for the first time, but he tends to look at you like that every time. eyes wide like ecstasy had just hit him.

you lay back down on your bed while he teases you with small love bites to your inner thighs, thumb circling your bud above your wet heat. peter can’t get over the fact that he’s the reason you’re wet. 

slowly, he sinks his mouth onto you and his heart leaps the same time that you suck in a breath. you’re sweet on his tongue. he wants to lap up the whole of you, moaning almost louder than you are after you encourage him with whimpers of his name. he’s rutting against your mattress like a dog, the poor thing. 

“does this feel good for you?” he asks, his brown eyes wide.

“mhm,” you sigh dreamily. “really good, pete. try using more pressure with more of a constant rhythm.. and a little lower-- fuck!”

you don’t know how he does it. it’s a strange feeling, one that makes your hips buck up and he groans at your warmth, the dripping sweetness of your cunt on his tongue while you pull his hair. his cock is throbbing so hard in his sweatpants that he feels like he’s going to dizzy himself trying to concentrate.

“oh my god, are you sure this is your first time?” you chuckle breathily. your encouragement makes him grin, makes his dick twitch as the blood rushes not only down there but to his cheeks.

with one hand, he reaches up to massage circles into your stomach until you interlock fingers. with his other hand, he slips two fingers into your cunt slowly, carefully scissoring them in the way he’s been able to perfect it over the past few weeks. the sensation mixed with the stimulation of your clit makes you feel like you’re about to short-circuit.

“fuck, right there!” you squeal once his fingers hit the spongy side inside your walls. “peter, ‘m gonna cum soon.”

he groans in response, eyes heavy in bliss as he licks you up. he lets go of your hand to give you an experimental slap on the ass and you’re delighted at his sudden eagerness (as if he could possibly be more eager than he’s been for the entire time he’s been alone with you today) and a boost of confidence. 

peter lowers his hand to adjust his crotch, but he ends up palming himself just to relieve himself of the pressure that was building up. he’s amazed at the sounds that fall out of your mouth, how this might be the loudest you’ve ever been.

“i’m-- i’m gonna--”

you can’t even finish what you’re saying because your orgasm hits you like avalanche. peter looks up with you, tongue still licking at your pussy as he feels your thighs tremble and your hips grind into his mouth. the slight bounce of your tits from above him makes him feel feral as he watches you cum that he has to rub up and down his shaft even harder for relief. 

even through your slight convulsions, peter sucks harshly on your clit once more and the overstimulation nearly tears you apart. your moans are so fucking obscene, your brain swimming in pleasure that you don’t even notice that peter’s grunting along and trembling along with you. 

you have to physically remove yourself from his mouth because it’s all too much, and his head falls back, cheek pressed to the the flesh of your thigh as his chest heaves his deep breaths.

“holy shit,” peter murmurs.

“holy shit.”

when he stands up to join you back on the bed, you immediately notice the dark stain on his sweatpants.

“did you-- did you cum, too?”

he nearly twitches from the realization, looking down.

“um, i-- i was really turned on. sorry.”

“don’t be embarrassed, baby,” you giggle. your dopamine levels are through the fucking roof. you pull him towards you. “that’s so fucking hot.”

“really? i--” you interrupt him with a kiss, one that’s heavy and has him panting within seconds already.

“better clean yourself up so we can go for round two, yeah?”

#2k celebration #peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #uni!peter parker #college!peter parker #blurb #peter parker smut #tom holland smut

[pbnmj]

it’s important to me that peter and co always have their bank accounts in the negatives . like it is fundamental that spider-man is broke

#peter parker #ben reilly #kaine parker #miles morales #i dont care what marvel editorial is doing with the clones btw. they are my barbie dolls #spider-man #marvel #spiderman #my art #pavitr and miles next. i have bullied peter for far too long i have to set my sights on other spiders #ALSO FINALLY HANDED IN MY COURSEWORK I CAN BE SOOOO SICK ABOUT SPIDERMAN BEGINNING TODAY!!!!!!! #well . its been going for a while but i mean i can draw a little more often #i have other uni obligations but at least possibly i can start reading and understanding comicsverse spiderman. #instead of ya know. cobbling together what i know from mutuals and tvtropes

[webslingingslasher]

Care less

for the frat!peter girlies.

Peter blames his aunt. 

May went and raised him to look forward to the middle of february. She would make little boxes and handwritten notes tied up with a fun-sized candy bar. May told him it was a day to celebrate love in its entirety. For a friend, for a teacher, for just the sake of love existing everywhere you went. 

Except, not everyone likes valentine's day. Some even hate it. Some would loathe the day so much that Peter feels like an idiot for caring. Dinner reservations that were going to be ignored, flowers that would go wilted and chocolates that were never going to get eaten. 

Peter has a handful of nothing and the one time he really wanted to outperform himself, it was brushed off and it was his aunt’s fault for getting his hopes up about valentine’s day. He had been so thoughtful too, planning weeks ahead to book a dinner slot and a fun date. Not to mention the mini fortune he spent on roses, not that you were a giant fan of roses but every girl deserves a bouquet on valentine’s, even if they triple in price. Peter even bought a second bunch of your favorite kind, just to prove he cared. 

It meant nothing. His efforts meant nothing and maybe he shouldn’t have assumed, but he never thought that you’d hate the holiday. It was a day entirely built around feelings, around love- and you just rolled your eyes at him. 

“I fucking hate valentine’s day.” You said it like it was nothing, taking two bites of a banana and handing it over to Peter. He asked if you were excited, maybe even hinting at that you should be excited. Peter Parker was about to romance the hell out of you. But not anymore. 

“Explain that one for me?” A toss, the peel falls into the trash can. You shrug as if you’ve never thought about it before, but it’s something you’ve held in your chest for as long as you can remember. 

“It was a holiday created by girls who didn’t feel loved enough by their boyfriends, or something. I think the practice is stupid, you should treat me good and do nice things for me everyday, not just once a year. And everything is crowded! Everyone has the same lame idea about dinner and a movie and flowers and… it’s just not something I buy into.” 

Peter feels every bit of him curl up and die inside. Valentines is his third favorite holiday, he adores the pinks, reds, and purples. He loves seeing couples of every stage, the beginning stages or lifelong partners. They all love the same; with everything in them. 

“Well, actually, I do have a confession. Chocolate covered strawberries. They’re outrageously expensive, but I buy them every year. If you’re wondering, I was hoping we could boycott the baby holiday and eat some strawberries or something.” 

A small lift in his heart, it’s something. You’d be happy with one thing and he could deliver that, but first he has to try and sway you, right? Peter needs to preach what valentine’s is about, he needs you to understand how lovely it is. 

“I’m surprised you hate it so much. I figured you’d love it, since it’s pink and feelings, and stuff.” You wink at him, you think it’s a joke and Peter’s in the same boat as you. “I know, right? It always seemed so gimmicky to me, I think.” 

“That doesn’t mean it’s bad.” You pretend gag, Peter feels his heart sink into the hollow of his chest. “You’re right, it’s cringy and that makes it so much worse.” Peter doesn’t agree, not even in the slightest. Nothing about it is cringy, there’s nothing embarrassing about showing you love someone. 

“Right. It’s cringy and a gimmick and everyone who participates is stupid.” Maybe he’s a little cynical, it hits harder when you nod with exaggeration. “So glad you agree, petey!” He doesn’t. Peter couldn’t be further away from your opinion but he’s really not in the mood to be shut down or judged, so, he just changes the subject and tries to ignore everything crumbling apart in the back of his mind. 

“Isn’t this cute?” 

You squint your eyes when you read the card, a tiny smile shows. “It’s cute. Not worth…” You snatch the glorified cardstock and flip it, your eyes widen, you pretend to choke on the dollar amount. “Ten dollars, holy shit. For some glitter? Fuck that.” 

You want it out of your hold, scared that if even a speckle spread you’d be forced to buy it. “What happened to the good old days of making your own card? My mom used to eat that up.” 

Peter delicately sets the card down, he tries to see it how you do, but he can’t. Sure, it’s wildly marked up, but wouldn’t your partner be worth the price? Peter would buy the moon for you if he could, a ten dollar Hallmark card won’t be his holdup. 

But, maybe you’d like a handmade one more. He can do that. 

Peter’s trying to be mindful of your opinion while also planting the seed that valentine’s isn’t all that bad into your brain. It’s days away and all he can hear in the back of his mind is ‘I fucking hate valentine’s day.’ 

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god! Peter- do you fucking see this?” 

A romantic gesture? A public display of love and admiration? Dozens of carefully inflated heart shaped balloons? A girl crying into the arms of her friend while her partner showers her with flowers. Is it the love? Is that what you’re pointing out? 

“Yeah, it’s-” 

“Disgusting.” 

“-cute.” Peter frowns, is that what you really thought of valentines? Nothing was swaying your mind, Peter thinks that you’re more solidified in your mindset than before. 

“I’m sorry, trouble, but I’m finding it hard believing you hate valentine’s day.” It’s like he just called you a slur, you pull your hand from his and stuff it into your jacket pocket. 

“I don’t hate it, I loathe it. What do you see watching that? Personally, I’m seeing gravel covered flowers and wasted space that turns into deflated balloons. Fuck that.” Peter shakes his head, you’re seeing it wrong. “It’s about the gesture.” 

“It’s about how you love someone so much, there aren't enough things in the world to buy to show it, and there are never the right set of words to say it quite right. I’ll buy all the flowers in the world for you, and I’ll use all the air in my lungs for these balloons but it’ll never match the love I have for you.” 

Peter clears his throat. “That's what I see, anyways. I think valentine’s day is an excuse to be a little cringy and basic because we all want that sometimes.” He might’ve finally broken through, but you crack a grin and bump your shoulder into his. 

“Ah, yes, because I’m so unfulfilled that a man has never gotten me a teddy bear for valentine’s day.” Would you want one? He could get you one. Or could that be a reason you might detest the holiday, not that he’d ever take your opinion for resentment or bitterness. 

“Have you ever had a valentine?” A small stumble, your hand is tied into his again. “Besides elementary, nah. And honestly, I should be happy so I don’t have to deal with all that stuff.” 

‘I should be happy so I don’t have to deal with all that stuff.’ But, now you do, don’t you? 

“Trouble, you do realize you’re my valentine this year, right? And I’m yours?” You feel your breath catch, no, you hadn’t realized. It’s always just been another day for you and you assume the same for Peter, it’s not like there was much to celebrate. 

“It’s also just a day that ends in Y.” Is that really the answer you have? It’s just another day to you, even if you finally have someone to claim? You might not care about the holiday, but Peter does and he’s going to get his valentine’s day, no matter what. 

And you’re going to enjoy a handmade card. 

And a teddy bear. 

Peter’s finger-combing his hair after a shower, he’s had the reservation for weeks, but he also wasn’t aware of your detestment towards red hearts and arrows. 

“Wanna grab some dinner wednesday?” If he didn’t say it by name he’s hoping you won’t scream bloody mary on him. “Sure.” A smile washes over Peter’s face, it drops in a second. “Wait, isn’t that valentine’s day? Ha, yeah, no thank you. You, me, and the entire city? Fuck that.” 

‘Fuck that, fuck that, fuck that.’ Weeks boiled into nothing. “But, if you wanna cuddle and watch a movie I’m down.” It’s something. He’d get to give you flowers and a card and a teddy bear and he can’t forget the strawberries. You told him you loved them. 

“Good with me, trouble.” 

Peter tried to sway your mind, he tried to make you enjoy the love and glitter and colors. But you hated it all. So all he has to do is ditch the flowers and the dinner and just… do nothing. 

Peter’s first real valentine and all he has to do is… nothing. 

Three rose bouquets tossed onto his closet floor, it was haphazardly done. Petals scattered around the cellophane, some even reached to his shoes. They were thrown in without care, they were hidden. 

But they were beautiful. A few front buds have taken a beating, but the others were fully blossomed and lively. You’ve never seen roses in such a vivid red, their petals almost like velvet under your fingertips, their smell unlike any other. 

The thorns have been expertly shredded, nothing but smooth, soft stems in their wake. It doesn’t matter if Peter didn’t mean to have you see them, they were too gorgeous to leave locked away in a dark room. They deserved the affection water and sunlight would give them. 

You clutched all three in your arms, the weight welcomed. You laid them out nicely across his bed, the third bouquet dropped a small card and you picked it right back up. 

‘Trouble- 

This day was made for you. 

Charlie’s at 8. 

Yours, 

Peter’

You bit back a smile. Charlie’s? It’s nice, too nice. And expensive. Peter got you reservations at Charlie’s? Holding the card to your chest you nearly squeal, you have no idea how he kept the secret from you. Or the roses. 

When you hear his bedroom door open you spin, waiting for him to be in the doorway so you can place a thousand kisses. Instead it’s Ethan and he looks surprised. “You’re here?” He points to the flowers, “Peter gave you those?” 

“I found them in his closet, he just tossed them in here! And he must’ve forgotten to tell me about Charlie’s.” Ethan doesn’t smile with you, he’s not sharing any joy. For a second you start to wonder if you were the person who was supposed to receive the gifts. 

“He didn’t forget.” You scrunch your face at him, “I think he did and I need to start getting ready now. Ethan, do you know how nice Charlie’s is? It’s fucking fancy.” You’re not prepared, you don’t have anything that screams Charlie’s worthy in Peter’s closet. 

“No, you’re not hearing me. There is no Charlie’s and there weren't supposed to be roses. I was supposed to get them before you got here, but, here we are. No roses and no Charlie’s.” You smack at his arms, pulling at his fingers to drop your flowers. 

“They’re mine!” Ethan’s on a mission to steal them, and he’s not being gentle. 

“No, you didn’t want them.” 

You watch him for a second, how could he say that, of course you want them. Thirty six reminders of Peter, how could you ever say no? You fight for what's yours, Ethan allows you to keep one bouquet. 

“I do want them!” 

Ethan’s not being nice to you tonight, he’s gruff with his response. “No. You didn’t.’ 

“You keep saying didn’t! I never said I didn’t want…” 

Except you did. Just like you said you didn’t want to get dinner with Peter. You feel terrible, you feel like crying. He’d had this planned for weeks and the whole time all you did was poke fun and degrade the holiday not knowing you were crushing him behind the scenes. 

You wanted the flowers, but you didn’t deserve them. You hand over the last bouquet silently. 

“I think it’s best if you pretend you didn’t see these.” You can’t imagine the ache Peter must have in his chest, he planned something out just for you to stomp all over it. It’s not about the value, it was the gesture. He can’t tell you how he feels, but taking you out to one of the nicest places in the city, where you know it has a month minimum reservation list makes you understand him just a little bit better. 

“This is so bad, Ethan. This is so,” you suck in air, “so bad.” 

“It’s not terrible,” a crinkle when he shifts weight. “But it’s not great.” You wince, if you could, you’d go back in time and shove your foot in your mouth, or tell yourself to shut the fuck up. 

“Well, I mean, what the fuck?! It’s fucking Peter! How was I supposed to know he was pro valentines day?”

“How was he supposed to know you were anti valentines day?” 

You sink to the bed and hold your head in your hands, “I just want Peter right now.” You want to hug him and kiss him and tell him how sorry you were. Ethan hesitates for a second, before stepping closer to lay the flowers across your lap. 

“You found them. They’re yours.” You protect them from being taken, but still have self-pity. “I don’t deserve them.” Ethan scoffs, “of course you do. Everyone deserves pretty flowers.” 

You pout at yourself in the mirror and fix any smudges. Brushing out any stray wrinkles your newest dress might’ve made on the way over. Ethan had very kindly instructed a pledge to pick you up an outfit so you could change before Peter got back. 

With minutes to spare, he’s back and taking a deep breath at your appearance. “Wow.” A surprised hum when you kiss him, you wipe red from his bottom lip while you apologize. “I’m so sorry, petey.” 

“For what?” A look around the room, red roses give him the reason. “Oh. Hey, it’s no big deal and I-” A frown when you silence him by holding a finger to his lips. 

“I’m sorry. I found those flowers and all I could think about was you and how much it meant to me that you got those for me, then I saw the card and I couldn’t believe you got us reservations and I just felt… special. I’ve never had a valentine, but I get it now. It’s just a day you get to dote on me extra hard.” 

Another surprise kiss, “and if you didn’t already cancel I think we can get to Charlie’s on time. But if you did, that’s okay. Because I think those are the most lovely flowers I have ever gotten, and I might have seen a little teddy bear in there but I didn’t wanna get too presumptuous.” 

This time, Peter kissed you. “There’s also a homemade card.” 

“You didn’t!” You fall in closer to his chest, his hands can have free reign tonight, you wore the dress just for him. 

“I did. I even wrote a little poem.” 

A chaste kiss, “just when I think you can’t get better.” 

“There’s also glow in the dark mini golf planned for after.” A peck, “so thoughtful and handsome.”

A whisper, he’s got blown pupils and hoping he’d get another kiss. “And your strawberries are in the fridge.” 

Your hearts about to explode, “fuck, I love-” you stop yourself, but you heard it and so did Peter. He brushes it off, “love?” Fuck it, you’ll both keep circling around it. 

“Yeah, I love love.” 

A hungry kiss, a squeeze to the back of your thighs. “Yeah, I love love, too.” 

#frat!peter blurbs #peter parker blurb #peter parker x reader #peter parker fluff #uni extras

[creative-caramel-coffee]

Actually Asthmatic

Summary: Reader comes to work despite being sick and pepper makes sure you’re ok.

TW: asthma, fever, overworking, sickness lol

Pairing: pepper x Platonic!Reader

Words: 2.5K

A/n Part two coming soon (part two will have natty and wands >:). Also, so much has happened since I posted last and I’m so sorry it’s taken this long. I’ve been super busy with uni. But… I got a girlfriend :) I also have a ton of uni work I have to keep up with and I have like no time for anything now. But I will do my best to keep writing. So expect my updates to be a bit more spaced but I’m NOT giving up on this account :)

Living in a dorm was an interesting thing. You had a room, kitchen and bathroom to yourself, but it was lonely.

You knew you were in for a rough time when your lab partner came to a lecture sick. Not only that, but they were coughing … a lot. You knew no matter how hard you tried you were bound to get sick and mentally you resigned yourself to your new fate.

Lo and behold the next day your throat hurt, but it was manageable. Another day passes and your head had begun to feel like it was stuffed with cotton. A truely lovely experience. To make matters even better, you had three classes and work today. Your shift at stark industries was something you couldn’t miss even if you wanted to.

Pepper was coming to check on your branch of the company and you needed to be able to show her the numbers at the meeting you were both attending. You needed to prove it hasn’t been a mistake to hire a collage student with crippling debt and insomnia to run a branch of what was probably the most successful company in New York if not the world.

You flipped the page on your textbook and bit back a sigh. There was still an hour left of class and the world seemed to be against you, time was moving slower, and it felt rather personal.

You rested your head on the table and tried to block out the droning of your collage professor, he was a great guy, but your head felt like it was being run over by a bus and your cheeks were warm and your fingers cold.

You must have drifted off at some point because before you knew it someone was nudging you. You groggily sat up and squinted into the light, a frown marring your face.

“Y/n/n, get up. Class is over.” It was one of your friends, you gave a half grunt and looked around.

The lecture hall was quickly emptying out and so you grabbed your bag and textbook and stood, swaying slightly.

“Whoa. You good?” Your friend asked and you nodded mumbling something about standing up too fast before beelining for the door.

You bid goodbye to your friend at the train station and boarded the tube that would take you to work.

It was about a five-minute walk from the train to stark industries, but the cold weather that threatened your lungs working in tandem with your asthma and what you were now beginning to think was the start of a nasty chest infection, made it seem like hours of hiking through the amazon after dark.

You adjusted the backpack on your shoulder and waited for the train to slow, the next stop was yours and despite it being the quiet carriage there was still the loud sound of train tracks passing under making your head feel like a drum being beaten by a tone-deaf monkey on steroids.

The train almost had pity on you as it slowed just as you thought the monkey had found an amp to make his music ‘better.’

You stumbled off the platform and hurried up the steps to the footpath. The crowd jostled you and you felt more than desire to just let the ocean of people sweep you out with the tide.

But you forged on. So did the monkey.

You must have looked like death incarnate by the time you arrived at the lobby. You were flushed at the very least and you could hear the wheezing in your breath as you took in air by the lungful.

You scanned your keycard once you had located it in the mess that was your backpack. Stepping into the clean white walls of stark industries made you feel like a racoon in an upper-class neighbourhood.

You made your way to the elevator that would take you to the board room and finally paused to catch your breath which was now just a string of wheezes. You knew that because the look the lady at the reception shot you was one that was a mix of concern, confusion and pity.

Your throat was raw, and your face was congested as well as your chest. You sounded like you swallowed a frog, and the frog was also now sick and subsequently congested.

When the lift arrived you thanked Stark, who was your own personal god that there was nobody else in it. You stepped in and lent against the railing after thumbing the button for your floor with what was probably more force than necessary.

You sat back against the cool metal bar and watched the numbers climb higher and higher as you approached the master board room which was also the same floor as peppers office. A place you rarely visited except when you had the quarterly board meeting like today.

As the lift pinged and the doors slide open smoothly you stepped off and gathered your bearings.

You caught sight of a door at the end of the hall with peppers name on it and smiled. She was also one of your own personal heroes. She worked like a horse and kicked ass like an avenger all while wearing heels and a smile that said, ‘don’t fuck with me before I’ve had my coffee’.

You navigated your way to the board room and cracked the door a bit. So far there were a few people in there and it was still early. You smiled at the unfamiliar faces and sat down.

You didn’t know any of them yet and so you kept to yourself as you and the others waited for pepper and the rest of the companies branch managers and board members to come in.

After a bit pepper entered looking as swauve and elegant as ever. She took her seat at the head of the table and took note of the empty chairs with a small frown.

“It seems some people are still absent, so we’ll wait for a bit until the numbers are more … concrete.” She said with a smile drawing a few laughs from around the room.

You kept your head down, but your eyes kept straying back to pepper.

After a few minutes of you being sat there doodling in your notepad, the meeting started.

You paid attention to most things but once you had presented your numbers you had more or less zoned out. At one point you caught pepper looking at you closely and decided to try and pay attention again.

But the meeting droned on and soon your chest felt tighter and tighter. Your face flushed with the effort of suppressing a cough. The wheeze that had left you in the elevator had seemingly returned and you were doing your best to keep it quiet.

Your eyes looked around the room for an escape and you caught pepper looking at you again. She looked worried.

‘Are you ok?’ She mouthed and you nodded but she looked unsure.

You decided to leave, just to step out for a moment to get some air and let your lungs do their thing.

You waited until all eyes were back on the man presenting before slipping out the door.

You beelined for the bathroom which were luckily empty with everyone currently on the floor in the meeting.

You braced yourself by placing your hands either side of the sink and let out a string of deep chesty coughs. The wheeze got worse, and you cursed yourself for leaving your asthma inhaler in your backpack in the board room.

The coughing still hadn’t ceased, and it seemed the attack was making it harder to catch your breath than normal.

You barely registered the door to the bathrooms being opened and the sound of high heels click across the floor in hurried steps.

You felt a hand press between your shoulder blades as someone drew slow circles on your back. Someone was telling you to breathe and you recognised the voice.

Pepper.

You felt something being pressed into your hands and looked down to find a glass of water.

You gratefully took a sip and found it soothed your throat pretty well.

After a second, the fit ended and you just had the wheeze to worry about.

“Are you alright?” Pepper asked looking worried and trying not to fuss over you.

You shot her a weak smile.

“I’m ok.” You grinned unconvincingly. She gave you a look you assumed tony often received and caved. “I’m sick.” You rasped.

“I’d have never guessed.” Pepper joked rolling her eyes and guided you by the shoulders out the door.

“Where are we going?” You asked still holding the water.

“Well, you need to rest, and the board can handle the rest of the meeting. I want you to get that cough looked at and i have some emails to check. So, we are going to my office, you are going to lie down and I’m going to get some work done.” Pepper said with a smile, and you looked at her like she had hung the stars in the sky.

“Thank you.” You mumbled.

“That’s quite alright honey.” She smiled and then her brow crinkled as if she just noticed your wheezing. Which spoiler alert… she had.

You avoided her eyes as she scrutinised you closely. After a second her pace slowed and yours matched it before she stepped in front of you and placed a hand on your chin. She tilted your head back to look at her and met your gaze with a motherly worried expression.

“You’re wheezing.” She noted.

“And you’re pepper potts.” You said back looking nervous.

“Yes.” She deadpanned in response. “Y/n, are you … asthmatic?” She asked and you looked away.

That was enough of a response for her as she sighed. “Wheres your puffer sweetie?”

“Back in my backpack in the meeting room.” You mumbled.

“Alright here’s what we are going to do. I’m going to get you set up in my office and then go and get your bag for you.” She said and resumed her pace to her office.

When she arrived, she scanned her keycard and opened the door. It was an amazing office. Floor to ceiling windows in a corner room made the whole space perfectly lit with natural light.

You stepped inside in awe, and she guided you over to an expensive looking blue couch with a fond smile.

“You stay here, I’ll be right back.” She said and you grinned and nodded still star struck.

You could see the New York skyline from up here, the city bustling below.

You had barely blinked by the time pepper had returned.

She handed you your bag which you took and thanked her again.

“Now take whatever you need to and try to get some rest, I’ll be at my desk just there if you need anything.” She said with a smile, lingering to make sure you took your inhaler.

After you had uncapped the small blue device and administered the medicine, she gave you a curt nod and headed to her desk.

Almost as soon as your head hit the soft fluffy throw pillows on the couch you were out.

The next few hours were spent toeing the line between sleep and wakefulness. At one point as you dozed you heard pepper talking to someone on the phone before you returned to sleep.

Pepper had sat down to get some work done but had barely typed out one email before her eyes were back on you. You seemed so small in this moment. Just a young adult, you reminded her of peter. She wanted to make sure you were ok and the small wheeze coming from your lips made her worried.

Your face was slightly flushed, and pepper was sure nobody had been messing with the room temperature controls. Feeling maternal, she picked up her phone and punched in the number for Bruce’s lab. Better safe than sorry.

After a short conversation with Bruce in which she relayed your symptoms, he decided he wanted to see you to run further tests and rule out pneumonia. Pepper had looked over at you and agreed, you had been sleeping for nearly four hours now and seemingly weren’t doing much better, and including your asthma she didn’t want to risk anything.

Bruce and pepper agreed to bring you to the avengers' tower to check your lungs and maybe put you on a nebuliser to be safe as the wheeze was still lingering.

When the phone call ended pepper stood from her desk and walked over to the couch, gently she sat down beside you and nudged your shoulder. You groaned and rolled over trying to escape.

Stifling a giggle pepper placed her hand on your arm, frowning when she felt heat radiating off you. She paused and then lifted her hand to your face, laying the backside of her palm to your forehead and feeling for a fever.

Finding what she was looking for, pepper gently rubbed your arm again.

“Y/n? Honey, you have to get up. We’re going to the doctor sweetie.” She said softly and you whined and buried your face in the couch.

“Tired and don’t wanna move.” You mumbled into the cushions.

“You can lean on me the whole way to the car, alright?” Pepper said carding her hands through your hair.

“Okay.” You mumbled and blinked your eyes open to look at her. The haze of fever was settled in and the pink hue of your cheeks made you look both dazed and cute.

With peppers help you stand up and lean into her side. She had already called happy to bring the car around and he was going to meet you both out front.

With your bag slung over one shoulder and you curled into her other side, pepper slowly began the trek back to the lift. The board meeting had ended hours ago so it was just the two of you left on the whole floor.

After a slow and sleepy trip down to the car pepper got settled into the backseat with you so she could keep an eye on how you were fairing.

Your cheeks had darkened slightly, and she felt your forehead again as happy peeled out of the car park. Your fever had definitely risen, and she frowned as the glossy look in your eyes was increased ten-fold.

Part two coming soon :)

#pepper potts #sick reader #platonic #pepper potts comfort #pepper comfort #pepper potts x reader #comfort #fanfic #hurt comfort #sick r #sick comfort #tony stark #Bruce banner #avengers #whump #fluff #overworking #stark industries #motherly pepper #peter parker #asthma #sickness #respitory infection #fever #flu #uni student reader #university #happy hogan #Ironman #marvel

[shellshocklove]

blurb: i want to forget | tom holland

pairing/AU: university AU - modern king!tom holland x female!reader

summary: reunions are always sweet, aren’t they?

warnings: swearing, infertility, smut (+18 mdni!!), fingering, unprotected sex, creampie

word count: 3.1k

a/n: this one’s interesting that’s for sure! very curious to hear people’s thoughts on this tbh! 😳 also this is barely edited. i only read through this once!

series masterlist

“Your Majesty! His Majesty gave orders that he did not want to be disturbed!”,

The muffled voice travelled through the door to Tom’s office. He found himself spending more and more time in here. It was the only place where he could get some peace and quiet, and not be bothered by all the vultures at court clawing for a piece of him.

The door flew open, and his Queen, Genevieve, burst into his office. Quickly, and as discreetly as he could, Tom folded the paper he’d been reading, tucking it away under a notebook.

“Leave us!” she ordered the guards; anger coated her words.

She looked pretty, he noted. Her summer dress ruffled with every stomp towards him. Daisies ruffling in the wind. The sweetness of her outfit, dimming the impact of her scrunched face. With a hard stop in front of his desk she slammed her hand down.

“What’s going on?” Tom queried calmly.

“Why don’t you see for yourself?” Gen huffed, gesturing toward his desk where a pregnancy test was left in her wake.

Tom’s stomach turned at the sight. Like a crystal ball the small plastic stick would tell him his future. With a shaky hand he picked up the test, feeling the sting of Genevieve’s eyes. Holding his breath, he turned the stick around.

One line. Not pregnant.

Relieved he huffed out a breath, “It didn’t work”.

“Are you seriously happy right now?” Gen spat. “After all the treatments I’ve had to go through, all the hormones and a fucking egg retrieval– you’re fucking happy!?”.

“What­– No,” he lied.

And then Genevieve did something he wished she didn’t. She started crying.

“No, you are!” she sobbed, “Why do you do this to me? Do you know how much pressure I’m under, huh? Do you?”.

“Gen,” Tom tried.

“Don’t ‘Gen’ me” she pointed an angry finger at him, “Nobody cares about me– do you know that? I’m not important like you are, I’m just your wife! All they want from me is a baby. Every time I’m photographed the gossip train starts: ‘She’s gained weight, hasn’t she?’, “That must be a baby bump’” her shoulders shook with exhaustion as she spoke.

Carefully Tom got up from his office chair, taking soft steps around his desk, before he wrapped his arms around her shoulder.

“Ge–“ he cut himself off.

“I’m twenty-six years old, Tom, I should have no problem getting pregnant! I don’t understand why we have to do it like this” Gen cried into his shoulder.

Tom didn’t say anything, he only rubbed her back in soothing circles, trying his best to calm her down. She’d been extra emotional these last couple of months. And he didn’t blame her. He knew the hormone treatment took a toll on her body. He felt ashamed that it had come to this. IVF. In vitro fertilisation. Nothing was wrong with them – the tests said so – but he just couldn’t do it. He was married to Genevieve, and still he couldn’t have sex with her without feeling like he was cheating.

“We still have more embryos,” he started, trying to comfort her, “we can try again next month”.

With a huff she pushed him away, “What’s the point, Tom? You don’t even love me! You’ve never loved me”. A tear hung in a thread from her left eye, waiting to spill.

His silence said it all. He just stared at her in disbelief. She’d never been so straightforward with him before.

“Are you even capable of loving anyone?” she asked him, her words tasted bitter. “You avoid me like the plague, you stay in this room every chance you get… When was the last time you spoke to your brothers? Or Harrison? Or Tuwaine?”.

Tom didn’t know if she was concerned about him, or if she was just accusing him of being heartless. And maybe he was. His heart had been taken a long time ago, and he had yet to get it back.

Staring at her, his wife, he had a hard time forming words. He felt his throat constrict around the words,

“I…”.

“What?” Gen spat.

I didn’t want to get hurt again, he thought. But he couldn’t utter the words. When he, again, said nothing, Genevieve scoffed.

“That’s what I thought!”.

She quickly wiped her tears before she grabbed the pregnancy test off his desk. Turning on her heels, she let his office doors slam behind her.

Sitting back in his chair, Tom wanted to cry. How had his life come to this? With a groan he fell back against the leather, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose to hold back his tears. When colours started to swim before him, he sat back up again. Scanning his desk, his eyes landed on the paper he’d snuck under his notebook earlier.

Pulling it out again his eyes skimmed the words.

“Dear His Majesty the King

On the 23rd of July we invite all prominent alumni to attend our 200th anniversary as a university. The gala will start at 7pm and be held on campus grounds. There will be dinner, drinks, and entertainment. Attire: Formal.”

“No Queen Genevieve tonight, Your Majesty?” The Vice-Chancellor asked Tom as she guided him towards the gala. He’d been ceremoniously met at the entrance by the whole senior cabinet of chancellors, where pictures had been taken and interviews had been held by the press.

“No, unfortunately Her Majesty wasn’t feeling well” he apologised knowing that was far from the truth.

After their fight and the failed IVF attempt, Gen had barely spoken to him. Having her accompanying him to an event like this after weeks of silence sounded awful. He didn’t think he could put on a smile and pretend everything was fine when he knew she hated him. He also didn’t want to push his luck with her. She’d agreed to another round of insemination – and as much as he wished he didn’t – he needed her to get pregnant.

But that wasn’t the only reason he didn’t want her to attend.

“That’s unfortunate… Please send Her Majesty our well wishes!”

“Thank you– I will” Tom promised.

Passing through the doors of the ballroom, Tom noticed he was the last one to arrive. Round tables, heavily decorated with flowers, filled up the room before a stage. A steady hum of conversation filled up the room as penguin dressed waiters circled the tables, pouring wine.

“We really appreciate The King taking the time to attend tonight and holding the opening speech! And as a thank you, we did our best to grant His Majesty’s wishes for the seating arrangements– it’s so important to reconnect with old classmates!” The Vice-Chancellor said, guiding him through a door to the backstage.

The speech Tom held was as basic as they could come, and Tom wouldn’t have had it any other way. What was there really to say except for some semi-sincere words about his time at the university, and how important education is. He was happy his speech writer had kept it short because he couldn’t wait to get it over with.

After a round of applause he eagerly he got off stage. The reason for his eagerness sitting right in front of him with an empty seat beside her.

“Your Majesty,” you said, a timid smile on your face as he found his seat. The table cards placed him a chair away from you, noticing that they’d assigned a seat for Gen beside you.

“Miss. y/l/n” he said ceremoniously, trying his hardest to fight back his smile and revealing how happy he was to see you again. A waiter quickly stepped forward after he’d taken his seat, nervously asking if he preferred red or white wine for the appetisers. With a quick glance at the menu placed on his plate before him, revealing seafood, he decided on white wine.

“You can clear all this,” Tom gestured to the seat separating him from you, while the waiter poured his wine, “Her Majesty isn’t coming tonight”.

“How about… uh” Tom heard you speak. Glancing over at you, he watched you shift nervously in your seat. “We just do this?” you quickly grabbed your own table card, switching it with Gen’s.

“Is that okay?” you questioned, biting your lip.

“More than okay!” Tom reassured you quickly.

Grabbing your purse by your feet you got up from your seat. You were clad in a silk dress, one Tom recognized. A memory flashed before his eyes. You in his lap on his birthday. He could still remember the feel of the silk fabric under his hand as he pushed it away to reveal your soft skin underneath.

You sat down beside him, your foot accidentally brushing against his as you got comfortable. You looked beautiful. Even more beautiful than he remembered. He almost couldn’t believe that you were real.

He’d almost not done it – his request. The university had asked him to speak, and he’d countered with his wish of being seated with his former classmates – specifically you. It was a dangerous request – but seeing you smile at him again – he found himself not giving a shit.

“I’m sorry Tom,” you giggled, courtesy of the wine, “I need the loo”.

He’d missed you so much he didn’t understand how he’d been able to go all those years without you. He missed the feeling you gave him. Your conversations. To be understood without saying a word. The fact that he’d barely spoken to anyone else but you the whole night didn’t bother him much. He was like an addict, and you were his drug. An innocent taste was enough for him to never want to leave ever again. His longing for you had not been fed in years, and now it had grown too large. It ached to be relieved.

“Yeah, me too” he was quick to say, getting up from his seat, “I’ll walk you”.

Looking up at him, you tilted your head like a puppy before a smile tugged at the corner of your mouth. It hit him right in the heart.

“Escorted by royalty? I must be one lucky girl” you teased.

He’d missed your jokes too, and how they were always at his royal expense. You treated him like just Tom, and no one had treated him like that in years. With a hesitant hand at the small of your back, he led you towards the toilets.

Waiting for you outside the toilets, all Tom’s bad decisions replayed in his head. He was fucking stupid for even entertaining this idea – but he was desperate. He’d denied himself for too long. His stupid head always got in the way. For once in his life, he wanted to follow his heart, if only for one moment.

“You finished?” he looked up from where he’d studied the floor. Your heels clicked as you stepped closer.

“Yeah,” he nodded, “no line in the men’s”.

You hummed, swinging your leg back behind you. “Ready to go back?” you asked, smiling.

“Can we…” he trailed off. Why was he so nervous? He never used to be this nervous around you.

You looked at him with furrowed brows, “You okay?”. He thought his heart was going to stop when your hand came up to rub lovingly over his bicep. He let out a breathy chuckle,

“Yeah… just, can we talk in private?”.

Your rubbing hand stopped at his question before you let it fall. You bit your lip, your eyes dancing over his face. Before you answered, Tom looked around the corridor. With the coast clear he pushed off the wall and opened the door to the accessible toilet. You hesitated for a moment, your front teeth digging deeper into your lip before you quickly stepped inside.

At the sound of the lock clicking, Tom stopped thinking – but he didn’t want to think – not if it wasn’t about you. He crossed the space between you, pulling you closer to him. His hands shook with wanting.

“Tom–” he cut you off with a kiss.

He could finally breathe again. He shed his straitjacket. The weight of his crown fell to the floor. You kissed him back, and he could cry with happiness. He felt your hands around his neck. The silk fabric of your dress bunching in his hands as he pulled you closer.

“I miss you” he mumbled against your lips, “I miss you all the time”.

You whined into his mouth. He’d missed that sound, so sure he’d never hear it again.

With careful steps he walked you both backwards until your bum hit the sink. He was greedy. Hands exploring your body, feeling your familiar bumps and curves, the one’s he’d memorised so many years ago.

A smacking sound bounced off the tiles as you pulled away from his kiss. You were breathing hard under his touch. Your eyes looked at him with longing and sadness, and guilt. He shook his head, cupping your cheek to try and comfort you.

“You’re not doing anything wrong, darling!” his thumb traced circles against your skin, “This is only on me”,

“You have a wife,” you whispered. The look you gave him made his heart break.

“It should’ve never been her– only you!” he pecked your lips.

Your eyes fell shut from his kiss. Your eyelashes kissed the soft skin under your eyes as your face twisted in agony.

“I’ve missed you” you confessed.

Tom couldn’t hold himself back any longer. He kissed you with a feverish touch. Hands sliding over your arse where he gave it a squeeze. With a small jump he helped you to sit on the sink, legs spread for him to slot between. He pressed himself against you. He was rock hard. His cock straining against the front seam of his tuxedo pants. Pushing the silk from your thighs, he collected the fabric around your waist. With a press of a finger to your clit, you mewled against his lips.

Tom didn’t waste any time. He slipped his hand inside your panties, feeling how wet you were for him. When he teased his finger at your entrance, you pulled away from his kiss. You looked at him with eyes blown wide with lust.

With a bite to your kiss-swollen lips you gave him a nod. He pushed his finger all the way inside you, smiling when he felt your walls contract around him. Your head fell back with a sigh when he started thrusting his finger inside you.

Tom couldn’t hold back his smile. He’d missed this more than anything. Being intimate with you. There was this connection between you he couldn’t explain, one he hadn’t even noticed was there before it suddenly was gone. He knew exactly what you wanted, how you wanted it, and when.

Quickly pulling out he pushed back inside with a second finger. Under him you moaned. Eager to coax more moans from you he pressed his thumb to your clit, circling it the way he knew you liked.

“Tom” you gasped.

Tom groaned, feeling how his cock twitched in his pants at your name falling from your lips. He needed to make you come, to watch you fall apart for him. He sped up the thrusts of his fingers, every slap against your wet cunt coinciding with a circling of your clit.

You tipped your head forward, “Please…” you begged, a hand gripping his jacket.

“What– what do you want, baby, tell me” he asked. He curled his fingers inside you and hit your spot, making your eyes widen and a gasp fall from your lips.

“I–I’m close” you let him know. Your eyes were intense. He knew he’d drown in them if he wasn’t careful.

He never let up his pace, “It’s okay, baby, you can come!”

A strangled moan escaped your throat as he felt your clench around his fingers. He slowed his movement down as you rode your euphoric high. He loved the way you looked as you came. You let everything go. Baring your truest self to him. Your chest heaved as you came down. He slowly pulled out, gently dragging his fingers through your folds.

Your hand on his tuxedo jacket pulled him closer. Your lips on him in an instant. The kiss was tender and tasted way too sweet. A quiet thank you without uttering the words.

He withdrew his hand from your panties before he hooked a finger under the waistband to pull them down, just above your knees.

Your own hand palmed him over his pants, making him involuntarily buck into your touch. If he didn’t fuck you soon, he think he’d combust. You fumbled with his button and zipper before dipping your hand inside his pants and taking his cock out.

Taking him in your hand, you wasted no time. He was so hard; the head was dripping with precum. With a finger skating over the head you slicked him up, and gave him an experimental tug. Your hand was so soft. He’d missed your hands too.

Falling forward, he buried his head in your neck. “Can I fuck you?” he asked, pressing kisses up your skin.

“Please” you begged, hands letting go of his cock.

He stood up straighter and stepped even closer to you. With his hands on your waist, he pulled you closer to him. Your hands wrapped around his neck as you lifted your legs, panties constricting you slightly.

Grabbing his cock, he ran the head through your folds before he pushed inside you. Tom savoured the feeling, the soft velvet of your walls swallowing him. He wanted to go slowly, to drag it out, but he was desperate. Desperate for you.

He reeled his hips back, before he slammed back inside you. God, you squeezed him just right. You felt like heave. He was not gonna last.

He picked up his pace. A slick sound muffled by the slapping of his skin against yours, melded with your combined grunts and moans.

He was an awful man. An awful man for loving you. An awful man for being unfaithful to his wife. An awful man for not feeling guilty. Being with you didn’t feel like cheating. Nothing had felt as simple as this. Loving you was the easiest thing in the world. And nothing or no one could make him feel ashamed for loving you.

You mewled under him at a particular hard thrust. He couldn’t control himself – he was so close to ecstasy.

“I’m sorry” he panted, “I’m gonna come”.

“It’s okay” your breath was heavy, “Come for me, Tom, please”.

The coil in his stomach snapped, and he fell off the edge. He didn’t have the sense to pull out, emptying himself inside you with a heavy groan. He pulled you even closer, hugging you to his body – wanting to feel close to you.

“I love you” he said softly, “I love you so much”.

He was so fucked. But in this moment, it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except you.

previous: the wedding | next: the end

tags (tagging the i want to forget taglist and a few other people that have shown interest after it was finished): @justapurrcat​, @lnmp89​, @petrspideyparker​, @hollandweather​, @userholland​, @imawhoreforu​, @onepieceya​, @sparklingsin​, @annathesillyfriend​, @mayal0pez​, @transparentpsychicempathkid​, @fic-rewind​, @peterparkerfilms​, @the-unknown-fan-girl​, @mannien​, @moonlightdotmp3​, @padlockedhearts​, @moniffazictress11​, @all4koo​, @angelayse​, @svechnibrock​, @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx​, @xxtomspideyxx​, @i83andrew​, @clockblobber​, @fangirlinggalore​, @luciwritesstuff​, @spideysimpossiblegirl​, @lol-just-kidding002​, @allywthsr​, @captainsbestgal​, @readheadwriter​, @parkersdahlia​, @cosmicryuz​, @tomxxxhollandxxx, @the-not-so-silent-back-up​, @rebloggingtheficsilove, @peterdarlingg​, @obsessedprincess​, @alltoowelltom​, @hey-im-bored504​, @storybookholland​, @sadisticsongbird​, @prettyjendeukie​,

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #prince!tom holland #uni au #college au #royal au #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fic #tom holland angst #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland blurb #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfiction

[ask-cloverfield]

#Spectacular spider-man #peter parker #uni-power #Spider-man

[orangeispice]

breaking news: renowned actress mary jane watson posts tell-all to her twitter about how her longtime husband took johnny storm, of the fantastic four, as his senior prom date, specifically to make her jealous.

#mary jane watson #peter parker #johnny storm #petermj #spideytorch #mayhaps even #spideytorchmj #meanwhile anya mattie and mayday like jfc can yall chill for five seconds #i dont need to hear my classmates talking about your weird high school/uni love drama

[thevandynetrio]

Marvel Action: Chillers #3

#nadia van dyne #peter parker #ch: nadia van dyne #ch: peter parker #dyn: nadia x peter #cb: marvel action: chillers (vol 1) #uni: earth 18157 #ty: panels #by: thevandynetrio

[kb11rd]

Omg Gwen get up what the fuck 😋

#kebb's art #spider man #spiderman #peter parker #green goblin #norman osborn #gwen stacy #i was possessed it's not my fault #I'M SORRY #posting old art bc unis killing me oh my god please help i am dying i CAN'T DRAW....FUCK!!!!!!! #also bc it deserved to be here i think #i LOVE gwen don't get me wrong i'm just an awful guy haha sorry

[eqnygma]

for spideymoon to happen we need them to meet. they can come to nyc or peter can come to the uk. let's say peter gets an internship in london, let's say he still goes out as spider-man (because he would), let's even say he has the wisdom to not just say spider-man Also got an internship (it would not be hard to track down new students and figure out he's lying or he Is spidey). so what could he do? say spider-man is his boyfriend, yeah, that'll work, right? and now, what do we have? the whole of new york city praying for peter parker's downfall every time a rogue so much as blinks in the wrong direction, after literally any minor inconvinience. r/nycvigilantes is a nuclear waste. sure, they have other heroes, they like other heroes, but damn that boy, he isn't even That cute.

#this is about grown uni student peter btw not mcu #the idea of them writing things like “pay peter parker so he comes back esu Please” is so funny to me #peter parker #spider-man #spideymoon #moon knight #steven grant #marc spector #marvel #mp

[fairyofthehollow]

my uni crush sat in the same row as me at our lecture today. and i fully looked at him and made eye contact before he did. the wedding is in two months, invitations will be sent out soon! x

#so basically i got there early #like ten minutes before and just sat alone in the room #and more people started coming in #and i see someone walking to the very top and im like oh! #that must be my friend #so i fully turn and make eye contact #but it is not in fact my friend #but my uni crush #and i freak the fuck out #genuinely idek wanna know what my face looked like #i was hunched over too man 😔 #she always comes and finds me at the top though and we sit together :’) so i really thought it was her #im so embarrassed #but like… why did he sit there … #he usually sits at the front. #like almost always #im so delusional #but like guys #he’s gorgeous #he’s so peter parker coded #im in love #i forgot how to sit like a normal person #the way i probably turned so red. 😭 #i started sweating too #fairie.txt <3

[aesthetic-uni]

GIVE ME THE GODDAMN MOVIE NOOOOOW

#uni talks about the universe #spiderverse #spiderman #spiderman across the spiderverse #miles morales #gwen stacy #peter b parker #AAAAAH #THE TRAILER IS SO GOOD #I JUST WANT TO EAT THAT SHIT UP #PETERS A DAD #THERES SO MANY SPIDERS #IM SO EXCITED

[theparkerfamilysblog]

For Universilia:

What are your thoughts on your daughter Natalie, are you proud of her even though she made her own path? And how do you try to bond and spend with her and your other kids?

Universilia: Well, My Thoughts For My Daughter Natalie, That is the good question! I know it's Hard for Her from being Spend time with her, During her 13th birthday, I felt about Natalie is changing with hanging out with Villians (Such as Flug, Dem, Black Hat, 5.0.5, The Monarch, and Dr. Girlfriend), I just want her to hangout with us, but Natalie doesn't want to, during her 14th birthday, I wanted to give her my star necklace, but she just reject the star necklace, She wanted to change, I understand for her, she wanted to be Anti Hero, It's a good choice for her, but I'm so glad For Natalie, she spending time with Her Friends and Her Boyfriend Dean, Me, Peter, Lucy (Luke), Madeline and Apollo! ^^"

Mother Is Always Be Proud with Daughters! >_< Even The Twins! I Know it's feeling about Natalie Becoming Anti Hero.

Natalie: Aww Mom, I'm still Anti Hero, and working on Black Hat ^^, I know you are proud of me, when I was Kid I always been as a cute Villian little girl, before I was becoming Anti Hero! UwU

Universilia: I know Natalie, I know, but you always been a as cute Villian Little girl to Anti Hero! ;3;" *Hug Natalie* So Proud of you! ^^

Natalie: Oh Hey @foxsketch6543 :D How is everything going well?! ^^

#Uni Talk #natalie parker #marvel oc #peter parker #my oc #spider man #universilia spring #Crossover AU

[webslingingslasher]

do u think when peter and trouble “broke up” he’d get pretty sensitive abt everything? like i imagine him hearing a guy from the football team or something scored a date with trouble and he just feels… defeated or how she still talks to ethan and go to lunch or a get coffee together which just drives him fucking nuts because ‘you’re supposed to be with me. right here. right now. this second.’ ://

yeah.

there's a diner off 113th, it's tiny and the food isn't that great. peter went with ethan one day on a whim and for being so close to campus the only people occupying the space were over sixty.

peter was hungover and while it wasn't special it made him feel better.

then, he brings you. and he did give a fair warning, but he thought you'd love it anyway. you ate the toast off his plate, you shared your hashbrowns and for the first time peter didn't mind sharing food.

each time you'd sit across from him in that diner, peter would watch you sip on coffee, then some of his orange juice. you'd never fail at sharing something that made him laugh.

one time you were there for four hours and neither of you noticed.

after the dozenth trip, you asked him if he thought everything was mediocre or if there was one shining dish. peter said no, everything is the same flavor of bland. you told him you should try the entire menu.

a new tradition. each visit he'd over a new meal and you'd do the same, then split them down the middle and swap halfway through.

it was sacred for him, peter could just have a quiet morning with you, no one was around, the looming questions that happen in his bedroom don't exist at that wooden table.

when it was just you and him, he felt unstoppable.

there were fourteen meals and seven visits away from finishing the menu when you stopped coming. it was something he avoided after you walked away from him, he couldn't even look down that side of the street for weeks.

until one morning after another night of drinking way too much, ethan tells him the only cure was retirement home food from that one diner. peter's a little too clouded and agrees, it's just a diner and it's just shitty food.

but it's not. the second his hand wraps around the doorhandle a wash of memory coats him, your arm is supposed to wrap around his, you're supposed you bump your hip into his, you're supposed to pull him to your table.

your table, it's funny he thinks of it that way. he doesn't understand how he's not supposed to when all he can think of is the secret kisses and delicate touches you shared. the moments he's told you more than he ever has to anyone else.

ethan's trying to talk to him but peter can't listen, the menu feels like fire under his fingers. ethan's sitting in your seat and he feels a pressure in his chest build, the table's wobbly because your elbows not there to level it.

the words are gibberish, all he can focus on is number seventeen, you told him you'd get it next time.

ethan orders coffee and seventeen. peter loses it, he can't be in here. that was supposed to be your seat and that was supposed to be your coffee and that was supposed to be your meal.

and you were supposed to be here with him. but you're not.

'i have to go.' the table shakes when he stands, his hands do the same in his pockets. it's so fucking cold outside, you'd dig your hands under his shirt for warmth and peter never understood how it worked for you, because he felt like he was getting burned by your touch instead.

he can never go back because you left him. peter tells himself it's fine because the diner is shit anyways.

it just wasn't as bad with you.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker blurb #frat!peter drabbles #tasm!peter x reader #uni extras

[excelsiorfics]

five bucks and a pizza

Date: 27 Apr 2023 Author: softgrungeprophet Rating: Teen Word Count/Status: 2,847, complete Dynamic: Flash Thompson/Peter Parker Characters: Flash Thompson, Peter Parker, Norman Osborn, Spider-Man Tags: Canon-Typical Violence, Temporary Amnesia, Unhappy Ending, Character Death, Gore

Summary: ...says I can.

#rating: teen #uni: 616 #team: spider-man #char: peter parker #char: flash thompson #char: norman osborn #char: spider-man #dyn: flash thompson/peter parker #tag: canon-typical violence #tag: temporary amnesia #tag: unhappy ending #tag: character death #tag: gore #length: 1k to 5k #category: one-shot #status: complete #rel: m/m

[shellshocklove]

blurb: i want to forget | tom holland

pairing/AU: university AU - modern king!tom holland x female!reader

summary: it’s a nice day for a white royal wedding.

warnings: swearing, no smut but a make-out session and some groping so mdni!

word count: 2.3k

a/n: this was semi requested by @prettyjendeukie​. i hope you like this little blurb (it’s a little different)! <3 just like last time i wrote a blurb i don’t know if people are interested in blurbs for this series but here’s another one 🤲

series masterlist

“Your Majesty?”

It was John. With a sigh Tom spun his chair around. For just a second his royal office melded with the blurry feeling inside his head. His desk was a mess. His red box opened in front of him, governmental papers spilling out like guts.

“Yes?” Tom sighed again.

John stood awkwardly in front of his king’s desk, one hand hovered over the back of one of the chairs turned towards the big teak table, while he carried a black leather briefcase in the other. Leaning back in his chair, Tom gestured for John to sit.

“If it’s alright with you sir, I would like to go over the security for the wedding?” John said while placing the briefcase on his desk.

“Yeah, sure” Tom said indifferently. Something scratched at the back of his neck. Under him the leather of his chair squeaked as he shifted in his seat. With a quiet drum the locks on John’s briefcase burst open.

Pulling out blueprints and documents, lists and directories, John started talking, “As His Majesty knows we’re expecting somewhere between three thousand and thirty-five hundred guests. We got the Royal Military Police, Scotland Yard–“

Tom cut John off, “Cut to the chase, will you? I’m sure you’ve got everything under control John. Just hand me the papers­– I’m sure there’s something you want me to sign”.

Tom almost felt bad when he watched John’s face fall. If he’d asked anybody else, they’d probably say John’s face was as stony as a statue. But Tom, he knew John inside out. Getting to know every little micro expression in his hard face over the years.

Shifting through his briefcase John pulled out his papers to slide them across the polished teak. Every paper needing the king’s signature marked with a small yellow post-it. Grabbing his Parker pen, Tom got to signing. As he flicked through the papers, he felt John’s stare.

“Was there something else?” Tom asked, “I can feel you staring”.

His words made John shift in his seat before he cleared his throat, “I was just informed that Lady Genevieve is on her way to the palace and will be arriving in about an hour”.

Tom’s pen stopped for a beat at the sound of her name. This was the first he’d heard of this. He clenched his jaw in annoyance.

“I might’ve been told by a little bird, aka Lady Evelyn,” Tom rolled his eyes as he finished signing the last paper, Lady Evelyn was Gen’s mother, “that Lady Genevieve is planning to stay past dinner”.

Tom fell back in his chair again, toying with his pen as the springs rocked him back and forth.

Maybe he was the worst person in the world, Tom thought. Being with Lady Genevieve, his bride to be, made him feel awful. She was one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen, she was always kind and understanding, she was good with the people, always knew what to say and when to say it – she was arguably the perfect woman for him. But…

… she wasn’t you.

He hadn’t seen you in over a year. The last time being right after his grandmother passed and his whole life turned upside down. He still remembered that day so clearly. The feel of your body under his touch, how you’d held him so tenderly as he’d let all his worries pour out, the kiss. He could become a hundred years old and senile, and he’d never forget that last kiss. You’d made him feel like everything wrong in the world was suddenly right.

After he’d watched you leave that day, a hole had started to grow inside him. You’d left, and with you you’d taken the sun, and his hopes, and his heart.

“If she’s supposed to be arriving in an hour it’s too late to tell her to turn around” Tom sighed.

“You can’t avoid her forever, sir” John said, “Soon you’ll be husband and wife”.

Husband and wife. The thought made his skin crawl. He was way too young to get married– he wasn’t ready to be someone’s husband. Well… he wasn’t ready to be Lady Genevieve’s husband.

“Husband and wife” Tom tasted the words in his mouth. Then, with a lazy throw, Tom threw the Parker pen haphazardly. It made a sharp sound as it hit the teak before it rolled towards the middle of his desk.

“John?” Tom queried, “do you know, like maybe somewhere in the histories, if a king has been married and his wife hasn’t been queen? Like she’s just his wife, and they’re just together”.

John gave him a look only he could interpret. “I’m sorry, sir, I have not. To the best of my knowledge: when a king marries, his new wife always becomes Queen Consort. You’d have to abdicate…”.

Tom only hummed at John’s unspoken words. He’d have to abdicate to marry you.

“Listen,” John started, “I know it’s not my place–”.

“You’re right! It’s not your place” Tom cut him off, the words coming out stricter than he wanted.

Silenced, but not angry, John was never angry, he gave Tom a sad but knowing face. Tom’s mood told him to leave it be. To not infect his still opened wound. Instead, John gathered his papers, stacked them neatly into his briefcase and locked it with a satisfying click! Before he could get up from his chair his king asked him,

“Could you please make sure she gets an invitation? To make sure she’s there?”.

His king didn’t need to utter your name for John to know he was talking about you.

“Of course, Your Majesty!”.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was coming” Gen apologized, turning to the side facing Tom where he laid flat on his back against his silk sheets, “You’re not terribly mad, are you?”.

“No, Gen– it’s fine, I’m not mad”.

She’d arrived when John had told him she would, and she’d been escorted straight to his office first thing (per her command). Companioning her was their wedding planner and her ring binders thicker than A la recherche du temps perdu.

He wanted to be supportive. He wanted to be as excited as Lady Genevieve. But he just couldn’t. Every mention of the wedding made him feel like someone was tightening a buckle in his metaphorical straitjacket.

“Okay, great” she giggled and shuffled closer to his body, “I don’t think I could bear it if you were”.

“Me neither” he mumbled, lifting his arm for him to wrap around her body. With a satisfied hum she settled into him, her painted nails scraping seductive circles over his naked chest.

“I’ve missed you” he heard her confess before he felt a soft kiss to his shoulder.

One kiss became two, then three, before he stopped counting. They all climbed up his shoulder to his neck and jaw.

“I’ve missed you too” he heard himself say before Genevieve brushed her lips over his.

Against his better judgement he kissed her back. Her kisses were always a little rougher than yours. She pressed her lips too hard against his, and sometimes she’d nip at them in a way he didn’t enjoy. But a kiss was a kiss. And sometimes he needed to be kissed.

She stuck her tongue in his mouth when it started to get a little heated. Whines left her lips between the smacking of their lips. She got a little more eager, swinging her leg over his torso to hover over him, hands cupping his cheeks as she licked into his mouth.

He knew what she wanted even before she started rutting against him. His hands automatically came up to rest on her waist, following her movements above him.

“I’m so wet Tommy– please, need you to fuck me” she pleaded into his mouth between kisses.

Her hand travelled from his cheeks and down his body to slip between her legs. Dipping her finger under the elastic waistband of his boxers she cupped his cock. She pulled away from his lips with furrowed brows.

“You okay?” she asked, her hand running over his soft cock.

Squeezing his eyes together he let his hands fall from her waist, hitting the mattress with a bounce.

“I’m just tired” he excused, “I’ve had a long day”.

He grabbed her wrist to pull her hand off his cock before he’s shifting her off him. Bewildered, she looks at him.

“I’m sorry…” Tom doesn’t know why he’s apologizing.

“No…” she trailed off, grabbing the duvet to wrap around herself, “Don’t worry”.

She turned her back to him as she laid down, and Tom doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do. So, he doesn’t do anything. It’s not like he can tell his fiancé that he can’t have sex with her without thinking about somebody else to get hard. He doesn’t think that’s a good way to start a marriage.

“G’night” he uttered.

“G’night” she answered.

The St. Paul's Cathedral was filled to the brim, and Tom felt like his cup was about to spill. Walking towards the altar, with his brothers’ supportive steps behind him, he’d wondered if he was gonna pass out.

His uniform felt too tight. The church lights somehow too bright. The volume of the guest drowning out any and every thought in his head. Everything was just wrong.

He wasn’t just nervous – he was making a mistake. He’d known it from the day he’d first laid his eyes on you in that auditorium, and he knew it now. You’d done your stupidly cute curtsy and he’d fallen in love with you right then and there. It was his biggest regret, and also the best thing that had ever happened to him. It should be you in that beautiful white dress walking towards him. But it’s not, and he doesn’t know if he can bear it.

He’d searched for you in the crowd. Desperate to meet your eyes. To drown in the safety of them. To calm his heart in the familiarity of you. John had told him he’d personally delivered your invitation, practically begged you to be here for him.

He knew it was cruel of him. Tom was being cruel to you, the love of his life. How could he be so cruel, inviting you to watch him get married to another woman. He’d dug your doomed relationship a grave, and now invited you to bury it. He didn’t blame you if you didn’t come. He can’t even think about the fact that someday you’ll do the same to him – you’ll marry someone else.

He tore his eyes from the endless rows of guests, forcing himself to watch Lady Genevieve, soon to be Queen Genevieve, walk down the aisle. The walk felt endless, but he doesn’t dare look away, very aware of the cameras broadcasting this worldwide. He had to look happy, not like he’s about to shit his pants.

With a forced smile he watched as Lady Genevieve ascended the stairs to the altar. The train on her dress covered the whole staircase and her veil looked heavy, held in place by a diadem. She’s clutched her father’s hand, leaning on him for reassurance. Beside him, he felt Harry’s hand briefly on his shoulder to give it a squeeze.

“Dearly beloved,” the Dean of the Cathedral started, “we are gathered here in the sight of God and in the face of this congregation to join together this man and this woman in Holy Matrimony; which is an honourable estate, instituted of God himself signifying unto us the mystical union that is betwixt Christ and his Church into which holy estate these two persons present come now to be joined. Therefore, if any man can show any just cause why they may not lawfully be joined together, let him now speak, or else hereafter forever hold his peace...”.

The church is quiet.

A dream Tom’s had every night this week pushed forward from the back of his brain. It’s like déjà vu. In his dream he’s standing at the altar, just like he is now, the Dean of the Cathedral say those exact words, but in his dream the church isn’t quiet. In his dream he hears your voice. You tell him you love him, and that he can’t get married if it’s not to you, and his knees almost buckle. He can’t do anything other than run to you. To hug you tight. To kiss you silly.

But the church is quiet. He doesn’t hear your voice.

The Archbishop step forward, “I require and charge you both, as you will answer at the dreadful day of judgement when the secrets of all hearts shall be disclosed, that if either of you know any impediment, why you may not be lawfully joined together in Matrimony, you do now confess it”.

The words burn at the back of Tom’s throat. Now’s his chance. He’s the King for god’s sake. He’s supposed to be able to do whatever he wants. But he can’t. He’s imprisoned by his legacy, and by his duty.

Tom doesn’t say anything. He’s quiet and he’ll regret it for the rest of his life – Tom knows it in his bones.

The Archbishop continued, “Thomas Stanley of House Holland wilt thou have this woman to thy wedded wife, to live together according to God's law in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honour and keep her in sickness and in health and forsaking all other, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?”

A knife twists in his stomach as he says it, gouging the hole inside him,

“I will”.

With his back turned he misses the way you get up from your seat. Inconveniencing everyone on the church pew, you slip past them and flee the church. You’re clutching a handkerchief to your cheeks, drying what can be mistaken for happy tears.

previous: three years later | next: the reunion

tags (tagging the i want to forget taglist and a few other people that have shown interest after it was finished): @justapurrcat, @lnmp89, @petrspideyparker, @hollandweather, @userholland, @imawhoreforu, @onepieceya, @sparklingsin, @annathesillyfriend, @mayal0pez, @transparentpsychicempathkid, @fic-rewind, @peterparkerfilms, @the-unknown-fan-girl, @mannien, @moonlightdotmp3, @padlockedhearts, @moniffazictress11, @all4koo, @angelayse, @svechnibrock, @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx, @xxtomspideyxx, @i83andrew, @clockblobber, @fangirlinggalore, @luciwritesstuff, @spideysimpossiblegirl, @lol-just-kidding002, @allywthsr, @captainsbestgal, @readheadwriter, @parkersdahlia, @cosmicryuz​, @tomxxxhollandxxx, @the-not-so-silent-back-up​, @rebloggingtheficsilove, @peterdarlingg​, @obsessedprincess​,

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #prince!tom holland #uni au #college au #royal au #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fic #tom holland angst #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland blurb #peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader