parker pm

11:57 PM - Peter Parker

request - alright i fuckin love tom holland so please like a smut where you catch peter sneaking in after dark and he tells you about his whole spider thing while you take care of wounds and such, and he’s like super scared your gonna leave him and so you reassure him and take care of him in another way if you catch my drift, this was real long but yeah thank you 

a/n - yes finally i post a smut fic on this blog and tbh it was kind of fun and interesting to write so i hope it isn’t a flop like me but don’t forget to request a peter parker/spider-man fic if you want and follow!

10:46 PM. Nearly 4 hours ever since Peter left me alone in his room. We were doing our Calculus homework with one another until he claimed he got an emergency phone call and ran out the door before I could say anything, taking his backpack with him.

The only thing that kept me company was my textbook and the sound of the falling rain from the outside. May was fast asleep in her room while I was far from that, my heart becoming a mix between anger and fear. I bounced my pencil against the pages of the math book, staring at my calculator as time went by.

I checked my phone again, 10:50 PM. Still no texts, no calls, nothing. I stared at my lockscreen for a few seconds before shutting off my phone and pushing it to the side, growing more frustrated by the minute.

“Dammit Peter.” I muttered, throwing my head back in a fit. I listened to the sound of the raindrops to try to calm me down, but nothing was working at this point.

I huffed and got up from the desk, beginning to pack my things up and call it a night, being more than prepared to give Peter the silent treatment for the next week. Just as I was about to zip my bag up, I heard the locks on the window become undone.

Keep reading


The Adventures of Fawn Diaz and Peter Parker–Chapter 25

The next day, Peter was more chirpy than usual. It was probably because of what happened the night before. Need I remind you?

Fawn kissed him. Only, he was Spider-Man. Not Peter. So she had no idea it was him.

Peter was still happy though. When he sauntered into the kitchen, May was suspicious. He was usually exhausted and begging for coffee. But he was standing upright, a smile on his face. Granted, he still had his pajamas on, but he was still happy.

“Did you have a good night’s sleep? Or did something happen?” May smiled.

“Just a good night’s sleep,” Peter sat down and sighed happily.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone so happy about getting a good night’s sleep,” May giggled.

“It’s been awhile since I got a good 9 hours,” Peter lied. The truth was that he was actually dying of sleep deprivation.

“Huh. Well, I’m happy for you. I’d like to see you like this everyday so, please get to bed on time tonight…and the rest of the nights,” May said as she left the kitchen, setting down a mug of coffee for Peter on the table in front of him.

He smiled and started drinking it and thought about what he was going to do, other than his homework. He thought about calling Ned over, but he already told Ned what happened last night, when it happened, and he was sure Ned didn’t want to hear it again, because that was all Peter could talk about.

Then he thought about Harry, and how he wanted Peter to come visit the “New and improved Oscorp”.

Maybe I should go. It won’t hurt.” Peter thought.

After Peter finished his homework, he told May he was going out and he would be back in time for bed. He decided to Spider-Man his way instead of taking 3 different trains.

He swung towards the Oscorp tower near Mr. Stark’s own building. He took his suit off and put on his clothes in an alley, stuffing the suit in a backpack he brought along. He came out discreetly and went into the Oscorp building. Harry was waiting in the lobby for him, considering Peter had texted him and said he was coming.

“Pete! Hey man, glad you could make it!” Harry greeted him with a bro-hug. Peter returned the gesture.

“Me too. You gonna show me around?” Peter smiled.

“Sure thing, dude. Let’s go,” Harry waved Peter towards him and they started their trek through the science building.

“I have to be back by 10 pm.”

“Relax, Parker, it’s not like I’m gonna keep you here so we can experiment on you. It’s just a tour.”

“And lastly, here is the lab where my dad has been working on some…black goop…” Harry sighed, not really knowing what he was showing Peter.

“Cool. Do you know what it is?” Peter walked towards the large glass container where the ‘black goop’ was held.

“Uh, no. Sorry, Pete.” Harry scratched his neck embarrassingly.

As Peter got closer, he found that there was nothing in the container.

“Harry there’s nothing in here,” Pete turned to Harry and pointed towards the container.

“It’s dark in here, and it’s black. You probably can’t see it. And you’re not wearing your glasses, man. Of course you can’t see it. Now, come on. It’s almost 10.” Harry started leaving.

“But Harry–!” Peter started. The door closed, and Peter was alone. He sighed and turned back to the container, and there it was.

The ‘black goop’. Right on the glass, making a spider shape. Startled, Peter tripped and fell backwards on his bum. The goop moved around the glass, as if it were alive. Peter was incredibly confused.

“What…are you?” He breathed out as he stood up. He approached the container once again, putting his hand on the glass and the goop formed into the shape of his hand.

“Interesting. You’re alive. What did Mr. Osborn make?” Peter asked. He read a tag on the glass: “VENOM SYMBIOTE

Suddenly, the symbiote made itself into a sharp pointy object and cracked the glass. Peter stepped back before he could he get scratched by the glass. However, the symbiote followed him and attached itself onto his hand.

“Hey! Get off!” Peter shook his hand vigorously, attempting to get the venom symbiote off. It didn’t budge. It hastily inched up his arm and stopped at the base of his neck. Then, Peter felt…different. He closed his eyes and saw blackness, what he always saw when he closed his eyes.

Peter…” a voice hissed in his head.

“HOLY SHIT!” his internal self, Mind Peter, shouted in surprise.

Do not be afraid…I will only help you. Give you power…give you…confidence….

“Considering your title is ‘Venom’, I think I’ll pass.”

You don’t want power? The power to defeat your enemies? Do you not want to have confidence? The confidence to talk to girls? To…Liz?

Peter was intrigued. But the fact that this, thing, this symbiote, knew his wishes and desires, alarmed him. But the offer sounded promising, so why not?

“….I guess. But just until I score a date with Liz. And then, you have to go.”

If you say so.” and the Venom took over Peter. His previously bright blue sweater turned a dark navy, and his blue jeans turned black. Peter’s hair was matted down and his soft brown eyes turned darker (if that was even possible).

Peter opened his eyes and he immediately felt the effects of the Venom take-over. He felt much stronger, confident.

He looked at his hands and opened and closed them. He turned them over, then balled them into fists.

“Wow,” he said.

“Pete! Dude where are you?” Harry’s voice sounded out.

“Shit.” Peter cursed under his breath. The Venom retracted itself from Peter and slipped into his backpack. Peter felt like his normal self again, everything returned to its natural color and style.

“The security cameras!” Peter whispered. He didn’t have time. He would have to come back later and erase the film.

Peter ran to the lab door and opened it quickly. He closed it behind him and turned around, finding Harry standing with his hands in his pockets and a suspicious look on his face.

“It’s 10:20. You said–”

“I know what I said. Sorry, I was just curious, you know me.” Peter said. “Hey do you know if there are any–I don’t know–security cameras? In that lab?”

Harry raised an eyebrow, “No, why? Did you steal something, man?”

“No, no. I was just wondering how the scientists look at the data they collect through video, but I guess they don’t do that here.” Peter said, lying through his teeth.

“Oh. Well, no. No security cameras. You should get going. May won’t be happy,” Harry said.

“Yeah…I should. Thanks for the tour Harry. You’re the man,” Peter bro-hugged Harry suddenly and rushed towards the elevator. He got in and when the doors closed, he sighed.

When he got outside, he went back to the alley to change. As he unzipped the bag, the venom latched itself on Peter again. It took the shape of his suit, except it was entirely black. Even the spider symbol was a bit different too.

Forget the other suit…this one suits you better.

“Sorry, but I’m wearing my suit home.” Peter said as he reached for the red and blue suit Mr. Stark gave him. He pulled it out and the Venom crawled off Peter and onto the suit, changing its colors to black and silver.

“Seriously? You better not ruin this, I can’t get it dry cleaned.” Peter said as he changed into the suit in the biting cold weather. When he put it on, his body warmed up.

Whatever you want, Peter.

“Now that’s what I like to hear.”

And with that, Peter swung home…a changed man.

A/n oh dear, this isn’t good. We all know Venom’s intentions. Let’s hope that Peter is okay and doesn’t fall prey to Venom. I hope you guys liked this! Stay tuned.

-Lina 🦋

Tag List (open):

@nebulaeofpie @dah-knee-cuh @whatafuckingbozo

(Tag List closes next chapter, so if you want to be in the tag list ^^ then message me or send me an ask)

Originally posted by danielsba-blog

7:32 PM - Peter Parker

request -  queen. I love your writing. If you’re willing to do another peter Parker smut bc im full of sin and ur last one was so damn good, can u do one where u guys are friends and peter asks if he can eat u out “for practice” or something and he’s rly awkward about it ? if u don’t wanna do that or if u wanna change it in anyway that’s totally cool. thanks for sharing your word with the world, it’s amazing!!!

a/n - had to get around to writing my second smut fic on this blog and i hope it isn’t a flop like me!!! this is NOT a continuation of 11:57 PM, i just thought it was cool to name the smut fics a time bc i think it makes it mysterious?? idk im dumb LMAO but don’t forget to request a fic if you’d like and follow!

7:32 PM. The time where I was supposed to be studying for my upcoming exam in Chemistry, but instead I’m over at Peter’s apartment doing the complete opposite. From being teenagers, it automatically causes us to always want to touch the other, and that’s the case just about now.

Our textbooks laid on his desk as we were sitting on his bed, myself straddling his lap as he held me close to his body. Our lips were happily engaged, coming together countless times as some music played lowly in the background. May had just left to grab dinner, explaining why Peter took such advantage of the situation.

Peter’s lips left mine as they came for my neck, kissing my sweet spot tenderly. He had only waiter a couple of seconds before gliding his tongue over it, making my spine shiver rather than his. One thing that I noticed lately is that Peter is taking more control, even though his nervousness was still as clear as day.

“Peter..” I rasped, holding the back of his head. “Don’t stop.”

Keep reading

Kiss it Better

Summary: In the present time, you’re the only person who knows Peter Parker is Spiderman. With no one other than his girlfriend to turn to, he shows up at your place with cuts and bruises, and you tend to him with bandages and love.

Characters: Peter Parker x Reader

Word Count: 1,466

Warnings: Injuries, worrying, fluff overload? This one is pretty fluffy, if I do say so myself.

Author’s Note: So this is my first time ever writing Peter Parker, so I’d really appreciate it if you guys told me how I did. I just want to make sure I’m characterizing him well before I start taking requests for him. Also, how do we feel about adding him to the Preferences if this goes well? Yes, no, maybe so? Once it was mentioned, you guys seemed to jump at the idea, and he’s a cutie so why not? Gif is not mine!

Author’s Love: I swear on my life, in the mere 24 hours or so that I uploaded Midnight Snack and the first Avenger’s Preference, this blog grew like a chia plant! It makes me SO HAPPY, and every mere like makes me melt (but maybe the porn robot blogs can spread the love somewhere else). I love you guys so much!

Originally posted by tomhallond

        The last time you checked the clock, it was 11:24 pm.

        Where is he? You frantically darted your eyes towards the clock again, and three minutes had already passed. That’s it. It’s basically confirmation that he’s dead.

        Whenever you tell him about your worries, he tells you that you’re worrying too much. That he’ll always come back to you with open arms. It had become a tradition of sorts that he’d stop by your place every night just so that he could see your face. Just so that you knew he was okay. But knowing that he was Spiderman, knowing that he would put himself in danger while fully aware of the risks, made you paranoid. As you lay on your back, head propped up on your pillow and hot chocolate gone cold, millions of thoughts and memories began to stir in your head. The more they lingered, the more your mind drifted to one of your fondest memories of the two of you together.

        “Ma’am?” you heard a voice call from you window at the unholy hour of 2:56 am. Your head snapped towards the window, the soft voice immediately recognizable. “Do you mind if I step in for a bit?” You ran to the glass pane, fumbling with the frame until it popped open. Peter jumped inside, shutting the window behind him. He slipped his mask off to reveal his messy hair and smiling face.

        “Thanks fo-”

        “Where on earth have you been?” you practically yelled, hitting his arm. “I’ve been worried sick all night. You could have been hurt, or-or even worse, I-I-” you could barely speak as your voice began to crack. Without even thinking about it, he put his one hand behind your hand and the other arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to him. He let you bury your face in his neck and stain his skin with your liquified fears.

         “Hey,” he cooed. “Shh, it’s okay. It’s alright. I swear babe, I’m right here.” Your arms tightly wrapped around his middle, holding onto him like he could drift away at any moment. The crook of his neck swallowed the majority of your sobs, and slowly it started to sink in that his warm arms were wrapped around you. That his chin was resting on the top of your head, and that his sweet voice was lingering in your ears. That he was there.

          Even as your sobs began to lessen, he didn’t stop whispering sweet nothings in your hair. You could feel your muscles relax as he gently pressed his lips to your head, nuzzling his nose into your scalp.

         Once you had calmed down enough to speak, you pulled away from him, guilt rising in your chest.

         “I’m sorry,” you apologized, sniffling while the back of your hand rose to dab your eyes. “I shouldn’t upset you like this. I’m just being selfish-”

         “Selfish?” he repeated. “You think your being selfish? Babe, that’s the farthest thing from what you are.” You furrowed your eyebrows, your red and puffy eyes accompanying a confused pout.

         “Come here,” he said, sitting on the edge of your bed. He laced his fingers with yours and tugged on your arm, pulling  you into his lap so that your legs were draped over his thighs. “You are anything but selfish. Would a selfish person stay up until three a.m. just so that they could greet me before I went home? Would a selfish person become restless at the mere thought of me being in harms way?” You looked down at your lap, biting your lip and shrugging.

         “It’s just, every night you go out and fight the good fight, and the first thing you get when you come here is tears and worry.” You can hear him chuckle softly.

         “Those tears warm my heart, babe,” he said, wrapping his arms around you once again. His lips found your earlobe, speaking into it quietly. “You’re crying because you care. You care about me, and that makes me happy.” Your lips curl into a soft smile.

         “Well, as long as you’re happy…” he pulled away from your ear with a smile, pressing his lips to yours.

         The memory brought a smile to your lips. Just you, alone in your room with a smile.

         Tap tap tap. You looked towards the window of your dimly lit room, where Peter finally rested. But his demeanor was…tired. His shoulders were slugged downward, his palm was flat against the glass, and most of all, he wasn’t wearing his mask. All things considered, you rushed to the window in hopes that nobody saw his face. But you wished you hadn’t.

         There on his cheek rested a blue and purple bruise, and a cut lingered just above his nose. Not wanting to even think about if there was anything else on him, you helped him through the widow, shutting it behind as usual.

          “I’ve been thinking of you,” he rasped, supported by your shoulders as he couldn’t help but put his entire body weight on you. You rolled your eyes, gently letting him down on the bed.


          “No,” he interrupted, putting his thumb to your bottom lip from where he way laying down. “Don’t do that. I’m sorry about this, bothering you. But you knew that I’d get beat up eventually. Not everyone is a petty thief that looks like  my Uncle’s shooter.” You scrunched up your face, biting you lip in concern. As much as it pained you to admit it, he was right. You always knew that one of these days he wouldn’t come home completely unscathed, and that scared you to death.

          “I know,” you admitted. “Just-just let me fix you up?” He gave you a weak smile.

          “Who else?” You kissed his cheek and got up, heading to your bathroom. You washed your hands, finding a first aid kit and putting soap and water on a towel, taking them back to him.

           “When did you become a nurse?” he teased.

           “I know enough,” you defended. “I’m going to guess that whoever this was got more than just your pretty-boy face.” He gave you guilty eyes. “You need to take off the suit.” He groaned, not wanting to do anything but lay on your bed. You you forced him to sit up, then helping him get on his feet. Blushing the whole time, you fumbled with his suit until it was off of him.

           It was moments like these that you thanked the Holy Lord that he was wearing clothes underneath his suit. It may have only been bikers shorts, but it was something. Otherwise you’d probably have your entire bloodstream travel to your face, and then you’d feel bad about worrying him.

           “Are you okay?” he asked weakly, snapping you out of your thoughts. “You look a little red.”

           “I-I’m fine,” you assured. “Stop worrying about me. Look at yourself!” He had a large bruise on his hip, a cut that traveled from his stomach to his chest, a giant bruise on his back, and another cut that traveled along his thigh. You felt yourself fighting back tears, but you wouldn’t let yourself cry. Not again, not now.

         “Sorry, babe,” he apologized. You sighed sincerely.

         “Don’t apologize for getting hurt,” you told him. “I want you to just, relax.” He made an attempt at doing so, closing his eyes. But he couldn’t anymore the moment you pressed the washcloth to his face, beginning to clean the wound.

          You saw him bite his lip to suppress a groan, riddling your heart with guilt. After what seemed like an eternity of suppressed grunts of pain, you had successfully wrapped up his leg and chest. You got up from the bed, leaving to get ice.

          “Where are you going?” he pouted. 

          “You need to get ice on those bruises,” you explained.

          “You’re doing all this, but you’ll kiss them all better, right?” he asked with a grin. You giggled, rolling your eyes.

          “Not now,” you dismissed. You tiptoed out of the room, sneaking a bunch of ice packs and paper towels from the kitchen, lugging then back with you. When you closed the door behind you, he asked again.

          “Will you kiss them better now?”

          “Not now,” you said. You wrapped three ice packs in paper towels, handing him one to press to his face and another to rest on his hip. You placed the third one over the bruise on his back, helping him lay down on it.

           “Now?” he asked again.

           “Now,” you grinned, pressing your lips against his bruises and over the bandages that were on his cuts. “Satisfied, Peter Parker?” He pursed his lips.

            “Not quite.” He pulled you down by the back of your neck, pressing his lips against yours. “Now I’m all better.”

TAGS (This is my favorite part because it’s like a reminder that people actually read this.)

@marvel-ash @bovaria @capnbbarnes @hymnofthevalkyries @yellowtheremarvelfan @romanovoff @imaginemarvel1000 @loveitsallineed

@sugardaddychris @sugarbabyseb

happy birthday, bonnie elizabeth parker | oct 1st 1910 - may 23rd 1934

 a man can break every commandment,
and the world will still lend him a hand;
yet a girl who has loved, but unwisely
is an outcast all over the land.
                                           —  bonnie’s poem, ‘the street girl’