peter watches the ring

right as rain, soft as snow (part vii)

title: right as rain, soft as snow

pairing: spider-man x reader/peter parker x reader

warnings: lotsa FLUFF! a lil violence an a lotta love

 word count:6,175 (WOW)

summary: in which the reader is an avenger and a whole lot happens before peter finds out about it. drama ensues. 


              When you woke up the next morning, you were laying on your side, in his arms, warm and content. With your ear against his chest you listened to his steady heartbeat and felt the rise and fall of his breathing chest on your cheek. You moved your head up to look at him from underneath his chin, finding that he was still fast asleep. You strained your eyes so you could see without moving enough to wake him, and barely saw the morning light through his bedroom window. You moved your head back down, snuggling back up into his chest. You smiled when you felt him unconsciously snuggle back in his sleep and hold you tighter, and closed your eyes to fall back asleep.

       You woke the second time a good few hours later, and your phone ringing and buzzing on the floor beside the bed. You jolted awake at the loud sound, opening your eyes to see that Peter was already awake and staring up at the ceiling, not moving as to not disturb you. The both of you glanced towards your phone and it was then he realized that you were awake. He smiled at you before letting you go, watching you roll out of his arms and out of bed to get to your phone.

Keep reading

Three Times a Charm

Originally posted by parkerpete

Peter Parker X Reader

Kinder Than You - Part 1

My Heart Will be There - Part 2

Not Saying a Word - Part 3

Word Count: 2495

Author: Kate (by the Ocean)

Warnings: Nightmares, very deep feels…

A/N: MWAHAHAHAHA it’s done! My first multi-part series is completed. I’m not gonna lie, this was pretty fun, but it is 2 o’clock in the morning and I am exhausted. Love y’all… Anyways, I think you all should be feeling pretty thankful, because I seriously (you can confirm with Katy on this) considered killing the reader, but that would have taken like 2 more freaking parts. The Perks of Being a Writer, I guess. You want to kill the favorite character when the storyline gets boring. But I didn’t, and you all get mushy fluff instead. I hope you’re happy. 

The movie finished, and Peter had all but forgotten that you were currently on the couch in his apartment, being held against your will. He had restrained himself from looking at you for the last 15 minutes of the movie, though he had admitted to himself multiple times that you looked adorable in your rain-wet clothes, frustration clearly evident on your face. The credits started, and Peter allowed himself one quick glance. Looking over at the couch, he smiled to himself at the sight of your curled-up figure, your face void of expression as you slept. Peter stared at you for a few seconds, and then shivered. He realized that he had been sitting in drenched clothes in an apartment that had the AC blasting to battle the normally very hot New York summer climate. He got up and walked into his room to change into something warm and dry.


Peter left the room, and almost immediately, your sleeping body started shaking slightly. Due to your powers sucking away at your chemical energy constantly, you always had a lower body temperature than most people, because your natural heating systems had less energy allotted to burn. All the Avengers would fuss over you being warm in the winter, but there had never been concern during the summer, what with New York’s hot and muggy climate. But, then again, you had never really been out in the rain during a cold front, and then slept in them either. And since you were very concentrated on not thinking about Peter, which was slightly futile and in vain, you had forgotten to consider the fact that during sleep, the body’s temperature was lowered even further to conserve energy; the reason why you slept under 3 comforters. You subconsciously curled up even tighter, the shivers starting to rack your petite and exhausted frame.


Peter walked in several minutes later, wearing his favorite pajama pants and a casual t-shirt, pulled rather tight over his biceps. He grabbed the remote and turned on one of your favorite TV shows. He turned to go grab something to eat when he heard you turning on the couch. Peter walked over to find your quaking state, and he quickly grabbed your favorite blanket from the table next to the couch. He flung it open, and placed it on you, tucking it gently under your sides so he wouldn’t wake you. You shivering subdued slightly, and Peter knelt by your side. Slowly he reached his hand out to cup your cheek, rubbing his thumb across the smooth surface softly. He realized how stupid he was being, and went to pull away. Before he could, your head tilted into his touch, keeping his hand there. Your expression lightened in your sleep, and Peter looked at you sadly. You looked so, so peaceful like this, like the way you did before the fight. Peter’s brow furrowed at his remembered the fight, and the sadness that had replaced the light in your eyes since you had caught him and Liz. He looked at you, kicking himself mentally for the millionth time about Liz. Sure, he had had a crush on her for ages, but if he knew it would’ve hurt and affected you this much, he never would have done it. Knowing you were happy meant more to him than Liz ever would. Peter’s hand moved up to your damp hair, running his hands through it. Without thinking, he wished that he had made the decision to kiss you, not Liz. He froze, his eyes widening at his subconscious wish, and he realized that he had been denying it for a while now. Peter liked you, no, he loved you. He loved you, Y/N Y/L/N. A montage of all his treasured memories of you played through his mind, starting off with the day you two became friends, and then the time you had introduced him to the Avengers, then when you both scored top of the class in middle school, that time Steve had taught you guys to dance, and made you both practice in front of a camera. He had to lead, because your mind was a bit occupied, and you kept stepping on his toes. Finally, he remembered that time you had gone to Homecoming as friends, and you had looked absolutely beautiful in your blue lace dress that made your eyes pop, and how you had bit your lip painted with red lipstick at his gaze. And the same way that pretty face had broken when Peter had broken your heart. 

Peter covered his eyes with his hand, and stood up. He walked into the kitchen and grabbed a carton of ice cream out of the freezer. 


Your neck and arms ached from the constant injections of mysterious liquids that made you shake with fear at things you couldn’t see. The four walls that contained you were familiar, the walls of your cell in the HYDRA base. The place you had been held after you had been captured during a reconnaissance mission. You had been paired with a SHIELD agent, more accurately a SHIELD mole that worked for HYDRA. You had been taking the lead, and he had caught you in the back of your head with a hit from his gun. They had carried you in here, and tried to replicate your powers. This was a different nightmare than your normal torture one, and it had haunted you since the fight. You heard voices shouting outside your cell, and Peter burst into the room, dressed in his Spider-Man suit. You breathed a sigh of relief, knowing he was here to save you. Without a word, Peter walked to the computer besides the table you were strapped to, and loaded some of the information onto a SHIELD hard-drive. He finished his work on the computer, and started to walk out of the cell again. You cried for help, trying to remind him that you were there. He peeked his head back in the door.

“Peter! Help me, my arms are strapped down!” You said, wondering why he had almost forgotten you. 

“I’m not here for you.” Peter said, no emotion in his voice whatsoever. 

“But, but I was k-kidnapped, and they’ve been experimenting with my powers. I need to get out of here. Peter, help me!” You pleaded, trying to strain against the bonds. 

“Why would I do that?” He asked.

“I’m your b-b-best friend. Peter, it’s me! It’s Y/N. Y-You love m-me.” You said, your heart beating fast as your confusion heightened. 

“I hate you.” He stated.

“Peter, no. Don’t do this, please.” A tear rolled down your cheek, and before you could say anything more, 2 soldiers grabbed Peter from behind, and pinned his arms to his side. You cried out to him, trying to warn him, but they carried him to a chair and tied his arms together. One of the soldiers came over to you, and adjusted the table so that you had a clear view of Peter. The other soldier got out a gun, and loaded it quickly. Your heart stopped as you watched the man point the firearm at Peter. You tried to look away, but the soldier next to you grabbed you jaw, and forced your gaze towards Peter again. 

“If you live, tell Liz I love her.” Peter said, his voice cracking with fear at the barrel pointed at his chest. You clenched your jaw, a dozen tears slipping down your face as you breathed in unevenly. You heard the gunshot ring through the room, and you watched Peter slump in his chair. You screamed, feeling your heart rip apart inside your chest. You heard someone calling your name, and you felt the soldier shaking your shoulders, trying to quiet your cries.


“Y/N! Y/N, wake up! Please wake up.” Peter’s voice pleaded with you as he tried to wake you up from your nightmare. You breathed in sharply as your eyes flew open. Your arms were shaking from the feeling of cold clothes covering you, and there were tears running relentlessly down your face. You looked into Peter’s face, and he looked into your scared eyes. He sat on the couch next to you, and you planted your face into his chest. He was shocked at your sudden contact, but his familiar arms soon closed around you, pulling you closer to him. “Hey, hey. Y/N. It’s okay, I’m here for you.” He said, running his hand up and down your back comfortingly. You continued to sob into his chest, trying to clear the image of Peter being shot from your mind.

“P-Peter.” You said, stuttering slightly as you looked up into his brown eyes that reminded you of home.

“Yeah, Y/N. It’s me.” He said, smiling at you softly. “I thought you stopped having nightmares.”

“I-I did. This w-was a different one.” You said, burying your face into his shoulder.

“Hey, look at me.” Peter said. You looked up at him again, and he brought one of his hands up to brush the hair out of your face. “You’re okay, I’ve got you.” You leaned your head on his shoulder, trying to calm down as you searched his gaze, completely forgetting about the Liz thing as you got lost in his eyes. He leaned in slowly, and you closed your eyes, tilting your head up and then snapping it back. Everything from the last month came flooding back, you shuffled out of Peter’s arms, and pulled your knees up to your chest. Peter looked at you, and you averted your gaze, biting your lip.

“How long was I out?” You asked, not looking at him. 

“You fell asleep during the movie.” Peter said, trying to hide his disappointment. You shivered, and started rubbing your hands up and down your arms to try and warm yourself up.

“Do you still have any of my pjs here?” You asked. You would always keep a spare outfit and pair of pajamas here in case of emergency.

“Course. They’re in my dresser.” Peter said, pushing himself off the couch, and offering you a hand. You took it timidly, and smiled at him quietly. He pulled the clothes out of his dresser, and handed them to you. You mumbled ‘thank you’, and walked into the bathroom, closing the door softly behind you. You peeled out of the damp clothes, and pulled the worn fabric on. You looked in the mirror, and cringed at your appearance. Your eyes were puffy, and the tip of your nose was pink. 

“And you wonder why he chose Liz.” You said to yourself. Little did you know, Peter was waiting outside the door, knowing that you talked to yourself frequently. You walked out, your hand trying to cover the bandage peeking through the tight shirt. Peter grabbed the bundle of the clothes and threw them onto his desk chair, pulling your hand away from your side.

“What’s that?” He said, his eyes voicing concern. Your shoulders rolled forward, and Peter saw the stress that May had been talking about.

“It’s nothing.” You lied, biting your lip. Peter crossed his arms over his chest, and your eyes searched his before you conceded. “I broke a rib. When I fell into that table, and it caused a blood build-up. It got worse because I didn’t have it checked out until today.” Peter’s eyes filled with guilt, and you looked at the ground, his constant gaze too much for you to bear. Suddenly, you felt arms wrap around you, and rested your head on Peter’s chest without looking up, trying to ignore the quick beating of you heart.

“I’m sorry. Gosh, I’m so sorry, Y/N. This is all my fault.” He whispered into your ear. You looked up at him.

“No, it’s my fault, Peter. I should’ve texted you or just… I shouldn’t have been mad about it. I mean, you do love her.” You said, watching his eyes flick between both of yours. His eyes filled with something that you couldn’t quite place.

“It is not your fault. And I don’t lo-”

“It’s okay, Peter. I get it. Honestly.” You said, wriggling out of his hold for the second time. Liz already hated you, why try to even fight for your side if you weren’t going to win? You slipped into the kitchen, and filled a glass with water, sipping from it to fill the dehydration caused by all the tears. You heard Peter walk in after you, but you didn’t turn around, worried that you’d start crying again.

“You kept saying my name. During your nightmare.” Peter said, getting some water too. You didn’t say anything, not knowing how to respond. “You kept begging me to help you.” You still didn’t respond, trying to get the image out of your mind. Peter came up to you, and for the third time, his held you to his chest, and you turned to look at him.

You told him all about the dream, too exhausted to come up with lies, and too hurt to leave out him talking about Liz. 

“You said ‘If you live, tell Liz I love her.’” You said quietly, pulling your arms up in front of you to put some distance between you and Peter. 

“I don’t love her.” Peter mumbled, and you looked at him, confused. “I love you, Y/N.” 

“No you don’t.” You said. You had been through too much heart break to accept that statement willingly, and Peter could sense it. 

“I broke up with Liz that day at school. Because I love you, and she was hurting you.” He said, looking at you earnestly. All your eyes showed was confusion, and Peter felt his heart break that he had hurt you this much that you had forgotten what love felt like. Peter leaned in again, but you were confused. He loves Liz, he hates you, and that’s what you were positive about. Until his lips touched yours. Something real and true connected you both, and you melted into Peter’s soft touch. Peter pulled you closer to him, picked you up, and placed you on the kitchen counter. You pulled away first, smiling. He looked at your happy expression, and saw the light that he loved enter your eyes for the first time in a month.

“Didn’t I tell you?” Peter said, and your laugh filled the kitchen, making Peter’s heart leap.

“But you hate me.” You said, doubt darkening your eyes again.

“But I love you.” Peter said,his nose touching yours. His touch sent the doubt away again, and you smiled. “Why did it take me three times to tell you that I love you for you to believe me?” He laughed, kissing your forehead.

“Three times a charm, I guess.” You grinned. Peter rolled his eyes at you, and you giggled. From that point on, you never had that nightmare again.

@ekinsyikin @afangirlssoul @wannabe-weasley @akm0o @rxchelpxng @mindfullofpoetry @sailorchibimoonunicorn @ginnyweasels @you-need-a-driver @143amberrose @miss-nerdalots

“TW Adults Only” Preference #4 - Proposal

You were putting away the laundry when you found the box. It’s not like you were snooping or anything. You were just putting away his socks for him, trying to be nice and makeup for being a little snippy with him this morning. You opened the drawer and there it was. A jeweler’s ring box just sitting there.

You couldn’t help it. It was staring at you. You couldn’t just leave it alone and pretend you hadn’t seen it. What if it wasn’t what you thought? What if it was? You put the socks down and gently picked up the box. When you popped the lid open, you saw a very simple and elegant diamond ring glimmering back at you.

It’s while you’re staring at it, mouth hanging open, heart pounding in your chest, that Jordan walks in and sees you holding it. You hadn’t even heard him come home.

“Dammit,” he laughs. “I had a whole big plan to take you out and everything.” He puts down his bag on the bed and walks up to you. The gaping fish look is starting to fade from your face and a smile is starting to break out. “Guess I should have hid it a little better.”

“Well you hid it in your sock drawer!” You laugh back at him. He takes the box from your hands and takes the ring out.

“I panicked. You came home early the day I bought it!” he defends himself. “I was going to have a speech planned out and everything.” He holds the ring between his thumb and forefinger, bringing up for you to see. “I know we haven’t talked too much about it before, but I love you and I want to spend forever with you.” You can feel tears threatening to well up. “Will you marry me?”

“Of course I will!” you tell him excitedly. You can see a rush of relief on his face and you can’t help but chuckle at it. He’s got a wide grin as he slips the ring onto your finger. You don’t even take a second to admire it before you pull him in for a kiss.

You’re sitting next to each other on the couch watching TV. It’s a lazy Sunday, something you both love and soak in whenever you can. Depending on what supernatural chaos surrounds you, they can be rare sometimes. Peter’s got his arm around your shoulders and you’re snuggled into his chest. He’s warm and cozy and you can feel yourself starting to slip into a nap when he says something.

“I got you something,” he says softly, stirring you awake. You lift off his chest and look at him. He’s got a soft smile on his face and squeezes your shoulder.

“What’d you get?” you ask, resisting a yawn. Peter isn’t one for big gifts and grand gestures, which you actually kind of like about him. You don’t expect anything too exciting, maybe something sweet or silly.

“An engagement ring,” he says it so nonchalantly that you think he’s kidding. You laugh just slightly and blink your eyes.

“A what?” He looks down and you follow his gaze to see him holding a ring in the palm of his hand. “Oh wow.” You’re suddenly out of breath and not sure what to do. He wasn’t joking after all. You gently pick it up with two of your fingers and hold it carefully, like it’s going to break.

“Marry me?” Peter watches as you stare at the ring, completely entranced by it. A smile erupts on your face when you look back at him. You nod slowly, words not forming in your shock. “Yes?” You nod again.

“Yes!” You say it louder than you intended to and he chuckles at you. You don’t wait for him to offer to do it and slip the ring on your finger yourself. He takes your hand and holds it up to admire it on you.

“You wear it well,” he says before giving you a sweet kiss.

The breeze feels nice against your skin, fluttering up your dress and flowing through your hair. It’s your anniversary and after a very nice dinner at your favorite restaurant, Chris had asked you to take a walk through the park with him. It’s dark and empty and strangely romantic. He pauses under a tree for a moment and turns you to look at him.

“You are the best thing that’s happened to me,” he tells you. It’s not the first time he’s said it, but he says it now more seriously than he has before. He takes your hand and runs his thumb over your skin. “After everything I’ve been through, I didn’t think I’d be this happy again.” He smiles fondly at you. “You’ve saved me in a lot of ways.”

“You’ve saved me too, Chris.” You squeeze his hand. It’s a little sweaty and you swear you can feel a slight tremble.

“I don’t want to ever be without you. I don’t want to waste time or to be cautious or and just dream about a future.” Still holding your hand, he lowers down onto one knee in front of you. The gesture causes a gasp from you, your eyes starting to fill with tears. With his free hand, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a ring. “Will you marry me?”

“Oh my god,” you whisper, your smile spread wide across your face. You can’t muster anything else and extend your hand to him, gesturing for him to put the ring on your finger as your “yes.” He gently pushed the ring on your finger before you grab his face and lean down to kiss him passionately. “I love you, you crazy man.”

“I love you too,” he whispers against your lips.

You had talked about it. The possibility of marriage was definitely on the table. You both wanted it, wanted to spend the rest of your lives together. It was just the when and the how that eluded you so far. Life was constantly crazy and there was never a good time.

It’s one of those rare days when you and Derek were able to be together, to hang out like you used to without the interference of supernatural happenings. After running some errands, you settled on wandering the mall. You’re walking hand in hand when Derek suddenly stops and pulls you in one direction.

“You know what, come here,” he says as he pulls you into a jewelry store. It’s brightly lit and the whole place practically sparkles. He doesn’t meander or browse much, but scans each case looking for something specific. He only stops once you’ve reached the engagement rings. “What do you like?”

“What do you mean?” You’re confused as you stare down at the rings.

“I mean, what do you like? Which one do you want?” Your eyes bulge out of their sockets as you look at him like he’s crazy. He looks up from the case and the corners of his mouth tilt into a smile. “We keep talking about it. Let’s make it official.” He squeezes your hand gently. He’s too shy to “actually” ask or maybe you’re past he actual asking. He had asked if you wanted to marry him well before this, but it was more rhetorical and curious at that point.

“Yes,” you tell him. “Okay. Let’s get engaged.” You both smile widely and lean in for a quick kiss.

“Okay, good,” he says. “Now which one do you want?”

A/N: So I’m officially back from my honeymoon and hope to start posting more now that the wedding is done! Hope you guys liked this one.


“At 2 A.M, on August 18, fate brought the Stalker to the Pan home…”
-Phillip Carlo, “The Night Stalker”

Among the many victims of infamous serial killer Richard Ramirez, the “Night Stalker” are Peter and Barbara Pan.
Peter was an accountant for the San Francisco General Hospital for sixteen years, and Barbara was a bank teller. Peter was described as a “smiling, upbeat, gregarious man” who was very proud of his U.S. citizenship. The couple had immigrated to Northern California from Hong Kong. They had two sons and three grandchildren.
Peter was sixty-six and Barbara sixty-two when the couple faced their untimely deaths. It was the eighteenth of August, at 2 A.M when the Night Stalker broke into their two-story yellow stucco house by removing the screen from an open window. He entered the bedroom where the couple slept peacefully. These certainly were the final moments of tranquility the two would ever enjoy.
Peter was killed instantly when Ramirez held his .25 to the man’s temple and shot. The killer then moved on to Barbara, who he slapped, terrorized and attempted to sexually assault. She was resistant, though, and was soon shot for not being compliant.
After all of this, he ransacked their home and, feeling brave, used lipstick to write on their wall: “Jack The Knife” and drew a pentagram. He then left, taking with him in a pillowcase some stolen valuables: Peter and Barbara’s rings, a VCR, and a watch and cuff links that had belonged to Peter.
The chaotic scene left behind by the Stalker would be found at 10:30 the next morning by their thirty-year-old son, David. He was shocked and devastated upon discovering his father dead and his mother very near to death.

What happened to the Pans that night was and is incredibly devastating. I can’t help but to think of the fear that must have been felt.
Imagine, waking up from a sound sleep on what should have been a peaceful night, only to find yourself looking into the cold, and utterly emotionless eyes of your killer.
As much as reading about the crimes of these notorious killers interests me greatly, it certainly calls to conscience the fact that monsters such as this walk among us. Unsettling as it may be, sometimes it must be remembered that none of us will ever be truly safe from such things.

Source of information: Phillip Carlo’s “The Night Stalker”


My new Lord of the Rings Video!  Have you heard of “Into the West” ?  It’s my most requested song from 2013!!!  Let me know what you think!  Please reblog if you like it! !! :)  LINK:


     From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
     A light from the shadows shall spring;
     Renewed shall be blade that was broken,
     The crownless again shall be king.