peter benjamin parker

Bestfriend! Peter is by far one of the best people to walk the face of the earth which why you’d felt so comfortable telling him about being touch starved. This was something that happened because you weren’t big on touching and it’s really unhealthy so when you told Peter, he made all efforts to make sure he was more touchy with you. If it’s in public, he’d always offer his hand to you or just have a hand to the small of your back. If he was feeling super confident, he’d offer his arm to be draped around your shoulder. Sometimes even asking which form of contact you wanted that day. If you were alone though, he’d totally be the cuddly type. Homeboy is cuddly ANYWAY and he doesn't have anyone to cuddle so this actually worked out great for the two of you. You always had movie weekends every weekend. This only difference now was that instead of actually just chilling beside each other, Peter would wrap his arms around you and cuddling with you, playing with your hair sometimes, other times just playing with your hands. He’s actually the biggest sweetheart.

There is something I’ve wanted to talk about for a while, but I have honestly just kept my mouth shut. However, it gets to a point where something needs to be said. There are some people on here who I have seen that post certain things that just don’t sit right with me. Some of these things are just downright disgusting. 

There is a huge difference between constructive criticism and just being mean and hateful. I truly do understand that you aren’t going to agree and like everything that Shawn (or just anyone in general) does, and that’s okay. But if you are going to drag him through the mud for every single micro action that occurs, then there is a problem. I don’t understand how one can claim to be a fan of someone if all you do is hate on that person. 

Creating rumors and false narratives, photoshopping, name-calling, it’s just not okay. It’s mean and disgusting and horrible. Joking about serious matters such as drug addiction and eating disorders is not okay. It isn’t funny. It’s horrible, vile, crude, and just disgusting. How does one continue to do stuff like this? And the people who encourage this are just as horrible. 

These things aren’t funny. I’ve seen blogs on here make horrible jokes that should never be made, and people just encourage it and let them. And whenever someone says something about it, they get mad and are stuck in the “my way or the highway” mentality. Half of you that are doing stuff like this are GROWN ADULTS. What some of you are doing is bullying, and it needs to be stopped. You’re an adult, so act like one. 

SUMMARY: You and Peter have to sit out on a mission, and the sexual tension between you two becomes quite blatant when you start tossing around flirtatious remarks (all characters are 18+ in this).

CONTAINS: some smut, oral (fem receiving), swearing, sexual tension, fluff, allusion to blowjob, i got tired towards the end and didn’t really finish it lol

WC: 3.800

A/N: this is the first request i have written and i absolutely love it!! i hope that i didn’t disappoint, but if i did let me know and maybe i can fix it a bit?? lol hope you enjoy and if you have any requests, feel free to send them in! :) this can also be interpreted as a stark reader but i never really specify so oop

MASTERLIST

YOU STUMBLED AFTER TONY, arms wildly gesturing around in the air. The expression on your face was a mixture between incredulity and anger.

“You can’t do that, we’re not supposed to do that.”

On the balcony of a party stood you and haz with two beers. Normally, you’d be so fucking pissed you had to be out alone with Harrison osterfield but right now, with the drinks and music flowing though you, you liked it.

“Don’t think just because I’m here alone talking to you means I like you.” You reminded him and he laughed as he took a sip.

“Yeah, whatever you want princess.” The nickname made your stomach turn. You always hated it because it was more of an insult than a cute pet name.

“My feet just hurt.” You huff as you let your beer hang loosely over the edge of the balcony.

“Well, take off the shoes princess.” He looks down to see the high heels that makes you as tall as him.

“I can’t, then I’m shorter than you.” You whine and he laughs as he drops down to his knees and unbuckled one shoe and took it off, then he moves to the other one, then he places a soft kiss on your calf, he goes up, along your thigh, until he looks up at you and gets back up to his normal height where he is taller than you once again.

“You can’t do that,” you shake your head, your breathing was now unsteady as Harrison, your worse enemy just basically invited you for sex. “we’re not supposed to do that.” You look up at him seeing his blue eyes no longer that perfect ocean shade of blue.

“Says who?” His hands goes to your waist and he pulls you close.

“Says literally everyone, even us.” He smells warm, he’s wearing Gucci and you know it because he’s bragged about this smell before. You fucking hate him for wearing Gucci.

“Well, no ones around, and I didn’t hear us say we cant do anything.” He licks his lips as he leans closer.

“Fuck you.” You mumble as you pull his lips into yours and feel the feeling you’ve been missing for years.

If We Were A Movie

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Masterlist

Requests are CLOSED

You get it a lot.

“Your boyfriend left his wallet.” A lady ran up to you in a coffee shop and handed you Toms wallet.

“Oh, thank you.” You gave her a tight lipped smile and accepted the wallet. You turned around and jogged to catch up to Tom with an annoyed look at your face.

“What’s wrong?” Tom laughed when he saw your face. “How did you get annoyed so quickly? We just left the shop.”

“Nine!” You held up nine fingers with Toms wallet still in your hand. “Nine times!”

“You got called my girlfriend again?” Tom asked, knowing exactly what you were referring too. 

Pairing: Tom Holland x best friend!reader

Prompt: “Relax. Just breathe.”

Summary: Tom looked absolutely breathtaking with his hair blowing in the wind, you simply couldn’t resist.

Warnings: NSFW - oral (male receiving).

WC: 907

A/N: For @starksparker‘s writing challenge! I’ve had this idea on my mind for such a long time and I’ve finally been in the mood to write it! Please enjoy my first smutty piece.

He looked absolutely breathtaking with the wind from the cracked window caressing his hair, causing the chocolatey curls to bounce freely. His grip on the steering wheel allowed you a front row seat to the priceless show that is the veins on his forearms, and you couldn’t help but appreciate your best friend as he wiped across his mouth with the hand not on the steering wheel, tongue poking out in an attempt to hydrate his lips acting as the perfect concluding scene.

He was so carefree, mouthing the words to whatever was playing on the radio, expression showing that he’d most certainly be dancing if he weren’t confined to his seat. There was just something about him in the moment, a sense of beauty which surrounded him when he was the epitome of relaxed. You couldn’t help yourself.

“Can I blow you?” you asked out of the blue, causing Tom’s attention to snap to you in disbelief.

His eyes were as wide as saucers, eyebrows pushing towards his hairline. “W-What?” he managed to stutter out. 

“Can I blow you?” you repeated calmly, staring across at him with patience.

Tom was lost. Sure, he couldn’t deny that the two of you had ended the night with your lips attached to one another’s at more than one house party. After all, you had been best friends for such a long time. It’s no secret that you were both attractive individuals. Who doesn’t crave intimacy and affection once in a while?

He snuck another peek at you, noticing the way your admiring gaze lingered on his exposed biceps, the tight t-shirt he was wearing perfectly framing his strong muscles. Tom just so happened to catch the moment your tongue swept slowly across your bottom lip, the motion concluding with your bottom lip tucked between your teeth and your head tilting to the side slightly.

He shook his head lightly. What was he thinking? It was the two of you. You were practically attached at the hip, nothing would be able to dent your friendship, it was as solid as a rock.

“I mean, I’m definitely not going to say no to a pretty girl sucking my cock,” he finally muttered, seemingly to himself. 

That was all the positive affirmation you needed. You reached across the console, unbuttoning and unzipping his pants with ease. He lifted his body slightly, helping you to shimmy them down only as far as necessary. Pulling his member out of his underwear, you couldn’t help but shoot him a cocky smirk. The tip was red and practically throbbing in your hand. “Excited, Tommy?” you teased.

He narrowed his eyes at you but couldn’t prevent the blush staining his cheeks. “Shut up,” he whined.

It took you a few seconds to find a comfortable position leaning over the console without the hand brake digging into your chest but you got there eventually, Tom forced to drive one-handed. As you dropped the lightest of kisses along the underside of his stiffened cock, you heard his breathing falter.

“Relax,” you cooed, sitting up in order to press a comforting kiss on his cheek, “just breathe.”

He took a deep breath, using his spare hand to brush your hair out of your face. You were grateful for the help as you took the tip of his cock into your warm mouth, swirling your tongue around the head. Pulling back, you licked a stripe along the underside, before unexpectedly taking him as far down your throat as possible.

The car swerved slightly, and you pulled off to shoot a disappointed glance in his direction. He grinned sheepishly back at you. “What do you expect me to do? I have a hot girl sucking my dick! Do you really expect my concentration to be on the road rather than on you?” he exclaimed. You raised an eyebrow, causing him to sigh. “I’ll be good,” he promised.

You leaned down for the third time, exploring the way Tom’s body reacted to your touch. You took your time, knowing you weren’t in any rush. You took him back into your mouth, sucking in your cheeks before bobbing your head up and down. Doing your best to ignore your gag reflex, you stroked him with your tongue as you came back up for air.

Tom let out a rush of air. “Oh, god,” he groaned, his grip instantly tightening on both the steering wheel and your hair. He warned, “I won’t be able to last much longer if you keep moving your tongue like that.”

You continued your actions, feeling his hips tighten and lift of the seat uncontrollably. With one final moan, he released into your mouth. Turning his gaze to you as you pulled away, he couldn’t help but groan at the image of you wiping at your chin with your index finger, before raising it to your mouth to suck on.

He took a few seconds to compose himself, breathing deeply, as you watched him soften before gently tucking him back into his underwear. You were careful as you zipped up his pants, finally buttoning the back up before moving back into your seat properly.

“What was that about?” Tom questioned, gaze sliding towards you for a mere moment before his attention was back on the road.

You simply shrugged, leaning your head against the window with a satisfied smile on your lips. “You looked beautiful, Tom. I just couldn’t resist.”

masterlist found here

pairing - pre-Spiderman!Peter x reader word count - 2,968 warnings - A/N - I saw something on Instagram one time about how scared Peter must’ve been when he got bit by the spider (since we never got to see MCU Peter before the bite), and this came out of it. Imagine this is happening a few months after Ultron, but Bruce didn’t fly away to another planet

summary - Peter always told you when he wasn’t going to be at school, so of course you panicked a little when he was MIA. You weren’t expecting to find him how you did.

When Peter didn’t show up at school, you knew something was wrong.

Peter always came to school, and if he didn’t, he texted you. You were his best friend. It was, like, the law for him to let you know. And when Ned hadn’t heard from him either, you panicked. You texted him multiple times throughout the day and even called him during lunch. He didn’t respond and sent you straight to voicemail. Instead of calling May, you decided to go to his apartment. He was probably just home sick and in bed and didn’t have the energy to tell you. Sure it was unlike him, but it was better than the alternative. No use disrupting May and her workday.

You got to his apartment, quickly texting your parents that you probably wouldn’t be home for dinner, and knocked on his front door. No answer. “Peter?” you called, knocking harder. “It’s me. Open up!” More silence. You knew where they kept the spare key, so you lifted up the doormat, grabbed the key, and let yourself in. “Peter?” you called again. You walked further into the house, listening carefully for any sign of your best friend. Just as you were about to call again, you heard a whimper coming from the bathroom by Peter’s bedroom. You quickly knocked and opened the door to find Peter hunched over the toilet. He was dressed in only his boxers, sweating profusely, and dry heaving into the toilet bowl. “Sweetie,” you said gently. You walked over to him and rubbed his back, brushing some of his hair away from his forehead to feel his temperature. “You’re burning up. Did you tell May?”

“No,” Peter said quickly, his voice, however, weak. “No. I can’t tell May.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, running your fingers up and down his spine. “You probably just have the flu.” Peter shook his head, keeping his face close to the toilet.

“Something’s wrong,” he said. Only then did you notice tears streaming down his face. You were about to speak again but Peter stopped you, throwing up into the toilet again. Your heart dropped when you saw his vomit was green. Not a natural green either. An acidic, borderline neon green. It almost didn’t look real.

“Peter, we need to take you to the hospital,” you said. You didn’t know what else to do.

“No,” Peter pressed. “If May finds out, she’ll freak. I can’t, I’m okay.”

“You’re not,” you argued. “Peter, you’re right. Something’s wrong.” He dry heaved into the toilet again before he started crying.

“I’m scared,” he said. “I, I have a fever and everything is so loud. I knew you were here before you even opened the front door.”

“What do you mean?” you asked. Your hand never left his back, still rubbing it gently.

“I could feel you,” he almost whimpered. “Like, I could sense it. I can’t explain it, (Y/N), but I knew you were here. My whole body feels hyperactive. I hate it. I don’t know what’s wrong.” He tried to steady his breathing, clearly hating how much he was breaking down.

“Peter, we have to take you to a doctor,” you pressed. Peter shook his head but you held your ground. “I’ll take you to my uncle, okay? He’s a great doctor.”