summary : you think peter is very pretty, and your duty as his girlfriend is to tell him every chance you get.
wc : 1.4k
Peter Parker has freckles. They’re countless in amount and infinitesimal in size, but they’re spread across his sloped nose, his cheeks, and some of them are scattered across his shoulders from the days he spends at Rockaway Beach in the summertime sun not because he likes the beach, but because you do and you drag him there almost every day throughout July. He doesn’t mind. He can’t have you taking the train there alone, and he’d rather spend time with you in the sweltering heat than leave you by yourself. If you’re sitting close enough, the way you are right in this moment, you can count each one of those stars on his cheeks and play connect the dots with a ballpoint pen, if he’d let you. He most likely would. Peter would let you get away with anything. If you were to try to kiss each individual freckle that was settled there on his skin you’d be pressing your lips to his cheeks for hours on end. He’d like to see you try such a thing.
Peter Parker also has the sweetest brown eyes you’ve ever had the pleasure of gazing into. They were warm and kind and they felt like home whenever he turned them on you in that loving way he held. You love the way he looks at you, often and bright with happiness. You haven’t stopped looking at him since you started all those months ago, you couldn’t anticipate a time when you would. He doesn’t mind the permanent way his eyes settle on you, but it’s the way you’re always looking at him that makes him blush and turn his face away. He’s not much to look at, in his opinion.
He whines a little when he catches your eye again, trained on him like a reflex once again. His face glows a red the color of a ripe strawberry as he spins around in his chair and stares at the peeling cover of his science notebook. “What’s wrong, pretty boy?” You grinned when he flushed a deeper shade of crimson, still evading the smile that crept across your face.
“Y/N,” he whines once more, the heat creeping up toward the tips of his ears. He turns toward you, holding his cheek in his hand and keeping his elbow propped up on the swivel chair. “You know I get all,” he squirmed around in his chair, “flustered when you call me that.” The admittance came with a great reluctancy on his part, but it only made you smile more as you walked across the room and cleared away the clutter of his desk, taking a seat there so you could continue your study in Peter Parker. “I’m not pretty.”
“Shhh,” you chastised, using your foot to spin him back around. “You’re very pretty, Peter.” He stretches out his hand, waiting for you to grab it and hold it as careful as always. He presses a kiss to your knuckles whenever you hold his hand, he knows you think it’s the sweetest thing ever and that every single time he does it, you swoon like it’s your first date all over again. He’s big on holding hands. It’s intimate without being too much, and the teachers can’t really scold him for holding your hand the way they can for kissing you against the lockers when you both think no one is around. Still, he kisses your hand, and you close your eyes, smiling shyly. Then, you say, “How’d I get the sweetest, prettiest boy in the universe to be mine?”
“Oh, god,” he takes his hand out of yours and covers his cheeks with them, feeling the warmth of his skin against his palms and squeezing his eyes shut. He can’t believe what you’ve made him. A blushing mess undone the moment you call him pretty, sweet, yours. “Feel my cheek,” he demanded, grabbing your wrist and pressing your palm to his face. You laugh.
“You’re burning up, babe,” you say, patting his cheek. “I can’t help it. I have to compliment you. All the time. Every hour of every day.” You tap a finger against his cute nose.
“I would compliment you but every time I try you swoop in and render my speech incoherent with that little nickname you have for me,” he kept his fist against his cheek as he stared up at you, your legs dangling off his desk as you extend your hands out for him. He takes them, presses them to his cheek.
“What nickname?” You question innocently. “Oh, oh, oh, I know which one. Pretty boy.” You held his scrunched up in embarrassment face in your hands, squishing his cheeks. “So pretty.”
“I’m gonna spontaneously combust.” The words came out muffled because of the position his face was in, but if he were being honest, he could feel himself light up every time you said he was pretty, as amusing as the word was to him. Even if he doesn’t think he’s much- anything, really- to be fond of, he’s happy, so happy, that you disagree.
You call him pretty boy every chance you get. You seize the opportunity with pride, throwing a wink his direction when you can because he has the dopiest little smile on his face for the rest of the day even if he feigns irritation in the moment.
You greet him every morning outside his apartment building with a cup of coffee in your outstretched hand and a sweet smile curling at your lips and a, “Morning, my pretty boy,” and Peter starts his school day with a blush, his arm around the shoulders of the girl that he loves. You lean up to kiss the corner of his mouth. He’s invincible.
Then, you see him in chemistry class, goggles strapped to your face and a stupid apron around your neck. His heart still stops when he sees you. You slide in the seat between him and Ned, pulling at his goggle strap before it snaps back to his head as gentle as you can manage. “Did you finish the lab conclusion, pretty boy? I’m stuck on the last sent- Ned what happened to him?” You turned to the other boy, eyebrows raised in confusion because Peter is motionless and the redness is spreading all over his neck.
“You called him pretty again,” Ned replied, stretching his hand across the table and waving it in front of Peter’s face. “He’s probably just offended that you didn’t greet me with a compliment.”
“C’mon, Ned, you know I think you’re gorgeous.”
“I’m actually not deaf, guys.” Peter nudged you playfully, rubbing his cheeks with the sleeves of his gray sweater. You ruffle his honey hair.
“We know,” you answered. “Ned’s stunning, obviously-” Ned grins at this- “but you’re forever the only pretty boy for me.” Peter scrunches his nose up. Then, he takes off his goggles, placing them next to the looseleaf paper that has his neatly compiled lab report scrawled over the page. He leans forward, scooting his chair close to you so he can remove your goggles, too. He takes your face in his hands and kisses you quick. He’d put more passion into it if the teacher wasn’t standing across the room, looking for any excuse to separate the two of you. Every teacher was the same. He pulls back after a second, his hands lingering on your cheeks when he gazes at you.
“I love you, you beautiful and lovely and wonderful girl of mine.” Triumphantly, he removes his hands and places them back down on the desk. He catches it before you turn away toward Ned, and for a brief and fleeting moment, it’s there on your cheeks. “Oh, oh, what’s that I see? Is that a blush?” He jumps around to Ned’s spot, a stupid, prideful grin on his face as he savors the moment for himself, commits the pretty sight to memory. “Pretty girl, are you blushing?” He pressed his hands to against your face, pinching your cheek gently, lovingly. You punched him in the arm, a warning behind your eyes, but Peter didn’t care in the slightest.
“Yes, you big idiot,” you mumbled. “Happy now?”
“Oh, I’m very happy.”
“I hate you.”
“Do you really?” Peter raised his eyebrows, resting his palms against your shoulders and rubbing his thumb along the place where your collarbone peeked out of your shirt.
“Of course not,” you said, a grumble in your tone. “I love you and your pretty boy face, sweet little freckles and all.” You poked a couple of his freckles and kissed the one by his mouth. Peter sighed, still smiling brightly because no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t pretend to be annoyed at you when you called him that name. He’d wear it with like a badge of honor, grateful for it. He had an effortlessly gorgeous love that thought he was the prettiest thing she had ever laid her eyes on, so what more could he ask for?
When Jarvis says “it is my diagnosis you experienced a severe anxiety attack” it-it was amazing. And tonys quiet little “me?” was the coolest thing. I’ve just-ive never felt so amazed at something and so proud about a movie in my life. The realization that “yes, they’re going there” almost made me break down crying. Iron Man will forever be my favourite trilogy and favourite character and I blame that scene, when they stepped up and made a superhero someone so painfully real that I felt what he was feeling. Amazing.
i’d like to personally give a shoutout to spider-man: homecoming for being one of the first spider-man movies to not base everything around the relationships and romance like cmon peter had the chance to go impress liz at her party as spidey, what did he do?? track down the weapons. he had the chance to go swimming with her, what did he do??? he tracked down a heist. he was liteRALLY AT HOMECOMING WITH HER AND HE LEFT TO GO STOP A CRAZY ASS DILEMMA (sorry i’m trying to avoid spoilers) but i think it really says a lot about his character. although it was made obvious how he felt about her, he still kept true to the hero aspect, prioritized doing the right thing, and i think that was a genius move. good ass job marvel + jon watts
Yeah Steve is a brave soldier who never hesitate to go for what he wants :D
Just some fluffy doodle! Sometimes I still can’t help but giggle whenever I think of how cute they are (sorry I am a bit crazy haha) :D Aww please go get married now! And btw MY NEW COMPUTER HAS ARRIVED :D (Yeah eventually I use my savings to buy it first and hopefully I can save it back within a year) Aww it runs so smooth and fast I nearly cry, so happy!!!
Which is fine by me. I have that stabled on my back by now and I will probably never get rid of it. I have accepted that. I’m just gonna try and expand upon that and show people that I can be more than that.
I am amazed by how she puts this into words. I guess you will always have people who think like this but what matters is what you do with it and I think she does a marvelous job. I’m so proud of her and I admire her so much
At first, I thought that cheritz is playing a joke on us by tricking us into believing there’s a new update. Boy, I was wrong and this update is freaking hilarious!!! The cheritz staff members have really done a marvelous job!!!! I can’t stop laughing looking at these new CGs!!!
“God, look at you,” Tom whispered, his voice rough as his lips played connect the dots with the small freckles and moles scattered across your chest. “You look so good right here,” his lips met your jaw, sucking harshly when you tugged his hair, “you look so good under me.” You went to say something but his cold hands slipping into your sweatpants and touching your hot skin made you gasp, urging Tom on more.
“Tom,” you whispered, silently begging him to do something but not being able to form an actual sentence.
“Darling, patience is a virtue.” You rolled your eyes, your comeback stuck in your throat when his hands fingers danced over your clothed heat. “Did you have something you want to say, my love?” His voice changed from a delicate whisper to a deeper, rougher tone. “Nothing?” You managed to shake your head, feeling his cold fingers dip into your underwear, a prominent smirk on his face. “Hm, I didn’t think so.”
You restrained another eyeroll, your legs trying to close around his hand to encourage him. You whined when his free hand came to separate them, hearing him softly ‘tsk’ you. “Tom, you’re such a tease.” You huffed, reaching your hands out to grab his cheeks and pulling him up to kiss you. Your hands slipped from from behind his neck to the top of his boxers. Before your hands could dip any further, his hand came down to grasp your wrist, causing you to groan in annoyance.
“Baby, be good,” he pulled away from you and lowered himself. You almost let out another pathetic attempt to beg him to get him to speed up his teasing when you felt his cold fingers slip into your underwear. “Fuck, honey,” he whined, letting his fingers slip into you slightly, feeling your anticipation. “You are being good, aren’t you, pretty girl?” You nodded vigorously, bucking your hips to force his fingers to perform a different motion, which he happily obliged.
“God, Tom,” you whispered, one hand reaching down to grip his wrist while the other carded freely through his newly cut hair. It wasn’t styled, resulting in it being messily scattered around his head, slight waves forming on top of his head. “You’re so fucking good at this,” a light gasp leaving your lips mid-sentence as his fingers circled roughly against you.
“Tell me, baby,” his rigid voice called out from beneath your waist, “tell me how good it is.” You whined, pulling his hair again. He pulled his mouth away from you slightly causing you to complain. He licked his lips, rising to your ear, his fingers still toying with you. “Darling, tell me,” he placed a kiss to the shell of your ear, “I need you to tell me how good it feels, baby. Or else – I can’t continue.”
“No! I – fuck, Tom.” You felt him smirk against your cheek, his head slowly kissing his way back to where he previously was. “Baby, don’t stop I – oh, god,” your eyes squeezed shut when his hot breath hit you, “I need this – you – I need you. And, god, fuck me you’re so good – so, so good.” His fingers quickened their pace, moaning into you softly, driving you over the edge. “Tom, oh my, god.” You almost came undone – and then you felt an absence. “Tom, what the fuck!”
You looked toward him, seeing him lick his lips and wipe his chin. He walked toward the bedside table and picked up his ringing phone. “Hello? Oh, shit. Yeah, give me a second.” You looked at him confusingly, rubbing your thighs together in frustration.
“Are you done?” You asked, seeing him hang up the phone. He slid on his jeans and grabbed a flannel, lazily buttoning it up. “Where are you going?” He frowned at you, leaning over you on the bed to kiss you.
“I gotta go back to set – they need me for a reshoot.”
“Please tell me you’re joking,” you groaned, ceasing your thighs as you flipped onto your stomach and shoved your head into a pillow. Tom chuckled softly, rubbing your back.
“I’m sorry, darling, I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“You’re such a fucking tease.” You whined, flipping onto your back again to face him. You brought your hands to the back of his neck, pulling him into you to kiss him again. Your teeth immediately nipped at his bottom lip, causing him to smile. You pushed him away from you slightly. “When you get back,” you whispered, “you better fucking wreck me.” Tom laughed loudly, dropping his head to your neck.
“You don’t know what you’ve just gotten yourself into, love.”
I wonder if they have any idea how much hatred they’ve created in fandom?
Every day I read anti-Tony and anti-Steve posts now. People revel in the idea of their un-fave being killed in IW. There are posts where people attack Tony, who was willing to sacrifice himself to fly a nuke into the wormhole… posts where people attack Steve, who was willing to sacrifice himself to crash a bomb-laden plane into ice to save millions.
And, for many of us, it’s hard not to get sucked in and lose our temper when someone attacks our fave.
Lots of people just HATE the characters blindly. They don’t even seem to have a grasp of the issues between the two heroes. If you think it was all about the Accords, you’ve missed the point. If you think it was all about Bucky Barnes, you’ve missed the point.
In their desire to create a complex story, Marvel wrote both heroes out of character.
Marvel, in their lust to create/capitalize on a conflict to rival Batman Vs Superman, made half the fandom need excuses for their fave coming unhinged and trying to execute a tortured prisoner of war and the other half of the fandom need excuses for their fave arrogantly dismissing every government on Earth without bothering to talk about valid concerns.
I love Steve Rogers to pieces, but one chat in the Upstate base while trying to read the thick booklet about the Sokovia Accords was not enough. It was dismissive of society for him to not bring it up again, even if Ross was the wrong emissary and not sharing The Accords with the Avengers until 3 days before signing was nonsense. And Steve sitting on the fact that Howard and Maria’s death was not accidental was wrong. He and Natasha both screwed up by not letting Tony know what Zola implied during his Hydra-Reveal Monologue in CATWS. Tony had every right to be hurt and angry.
I love Tony Stark, but attempting to execute a victim of torture and brainwashing (a fact he understood well enough to jokingly nickname the man ‘Manchurian Candidate’ moments earlier) is attempted murder. There was no room for compromise in that life or death question, and Steve was right to prevent Tony from committing murder himself in the heat of anguish. Also, trusting Ross, the man who hounded his friend Bruce Banner in efforts to capture and dissect Bruce, was a betrayal of that friendship. Waiting until Ross’ presentation rather than talking with the other Avengers first put a barrier between Tony and them, made Steve think Tony had already made up his mind. Not protesting the lack of legal process in The Accords, the government’s placement of fellow Avengers in The Raft prison, etc…. It was shortsighted and cold-hearted.
Steve Rogers is not arrogant and dismissive. Tony Stark is not cold-hearted and murderous.
Bungou Stray Dogs does a marvelous job of blurring the line between “good” and “evil” characters. In this anime, none of the characters are wholly one or the other. There’s always a compromise of sorts…
A former mafia executive can leave his job and change for the better. A kind old doctor can secretly be the boss of a dangerous organization. An orphan is killing everyone in his path for the sake of acknowledgement. A man who works for the mafia never kills and takes care of children.
How about Fitzgerald? Originally presented as a rich white bastard, is only doing it for his wife and daughter… He’s still a bastard but he has reasons. Lucy wants a home. John wants to help his family. Nathaniel wants to save Margaret.
The heroes? Junichirou is very dangerous once his sister is threatened. Yosano is a sadist despite being a healer. Fukuzawa does not hesitate to slice up mafia members. And Dazai…
Tom and you had been dating for a little over seven months –
agreeing to take things slow between you two, especially when both of your schedules
were busy, you two had very rare physically
intimate moments. It had started with shameless flirting, not expecting it
to go any further than that. Then, out of nowhere, you two were going on dates.
They weren’t official, he’d ask if you wanted to get ice cream with him, some
days coffee. You’d ask him if he’d like to come over and watch a movie or go to
the park with you. It was very subtle, so subtle that neither of you realized
what was happening. Soon enough, verbal ‘goodnights’
became kisses on the cheeks, slowly turning into kisses on the mouth.