The Weeknd  | Call Out My Name

Edmund x Reader: Arranged

Prompt/ask: hi! could i request an edmund x reader where they had to have an arranged marriage but the reader loves him and she doesn’t think edmund loves her back? maybe like they’re in bed and sleeping on opposite sides and she wants to cuddle but she’s too afraid to ask him because she thinks he doesn’t love her? idk if that made sense but it would be amazing if you could write it! i love your writing! thank you!! 

Word count: 1,291

Warnings: None

Setting: Golden Age

A/N: Thank you to my lovely friend Danielle (@itsalwaysnarnia) for helping me with part of this story-please give this excellent human being a follow!

Your betrothal to Edmund Pevensie of Narnia was not something you had wished for. Unfortunately, it wasn’t something you had any say in at all.

An arranged marriage was not what you considered the dream future. You couldn’t think of anyone in their right mind who would actually enjoy being stuck with some stranger for the rest of their life, let alone upon meeting them a mere week before the wedding. 

But the moment you met Edmund Pevensie, he didn’t seem like a stranger. No, he was something much more than that in your eyes. It felt as if you had known him in a past life; Perhaps in a dream, or a dream of a dream. It seemed incredibly silly, seeing as you had only exchanged a few words with the young king, and although you were sure he didn’t feel the same, you couldn’t deny how you saw him.

“Y/n?” 

You immediately snapped out of the trance you were in, turning to the dark haired figure standing in the doorway of the castle’s Great Hall.

 “Oh, sorry. I must have, um-” You paused, clearing your throat and avoiding Edmund’s gaze. “Wandered off…” 

The king tilted his head slightly, giving you a questioning look. “Yes, well, you should probably get to bed. It’s, I mean-” He looked at his feet, clearly uncomfortable. “It’s getting late.”

 You nodded, forcing a small smile. “Yes, thanks.” The two of you stood there for a minute. “Right, well, I’m going to uh…” You felt the apples of your cheeks fill with heat. 

“I was just getting to bed, I can walk with you if you’d like.” Edmund offered hesitantly, almost as if he felt an obligation to. 

You nodded gratefully, obliging and taking a step towards the winding marble staircase. “Thank you, Your Highness.” 

Edmund shook his head, almost sadly. “Please don’t call me that. It’s bad enough that we’re stuck in this situation, I don’t need you treating me like I’m somehow…above you.”

 He paused, taking care to avoid eye contact as he walked a few steps ahead of you. 

“Edmund?” You asked, stopping before the entrance to your marital chambers. The king turned slowly on his heel to face you. 

“I’m sorry. For all of this.” You croaked out softly. 

The two of you looked at each other for a moment. Edmund just nodded, remaining silent. He understood what you meant. 

Edmund apprehensively began to unlatch the door, opening it with deliberate listlessness. You took a couple timid steps towards the entrance, watching as the young king tugged at his waist to undo the buckle from the side of his robes.

You stepped into the dark chambers, tugging at the sleeve of your gown and shutting the door behind you as you did so. It made a thunderous sound as the latch clicked once more. 

You had been in these chambers three times before; once on your wedding day and then again on the two evenings that followed. Yet on all three of these occasions, you and Edmund lay on either sides of the bed, not acknowledging each other whatsoever. 

“So,” You said softly, pulling and unbraiding the laces on the back of your gown,  “Uh-”

“You don’t have to try to talk to me.” Edmund replied plainly, letting his robes fall to his feet. “It’s alright.”

 It was immensely dark in the room, so you were unable to see anything more than the general outline of Edmund standing before you. 

You bit the side of your lip, dropping your hands from the laces. “I know, but-” You sighed, gliding your gown over your shoulders and down to your waist. You felt the chilliness in the air run through your body.

Edmund ran a hand through his scraggly hair, looking at you with an odd expression. “Hm?” 

You shook your head rawly, letting the last of your clothing fall and quickly reaching for the nightdress that hung by the wardrobe. “It doesn’t matter.”

You drew what you could see of the bed coverings back, making room for you to lift your legs from the edge of the mattress and settle them under the sheets. It was still cold under the many blankets. 

You sat there silently, leaning against the pillows lining the headboard as you waited for Edmund to join you. You could feel a cool Narnian breeze come in through the cracked window, making you colder than before. Narnia was different than Terebinthia…too different. Nothing was keeping you sane here anymore. 

“You okay?” Edmund asked from beside you. You nodded slowly, sinking down into the blankets.  

Edmund let out a small, slightly defeated sigh, and adjusted his position to rest his head on the flimsy pillows. Although he lay merely a few feet from you, he seemed a great distance away. 

Edmund remained silent, but you could hear him breathing somewhat rapidly. Gradually, your loneliness became much more prominent and the winds became much stronger. 

As you lay there in the cold sheets, restless and completely unsure, thunder began to brew outside your window. You inhaled sharply, praying that the storm would pass. You had never responded well to weather like this.

It was still for a moment before the first lighting cracked. You felt your body tense up instantaneously, your breathing stopping suddenly. You bit your lip, feeling the blood rush to your face and your hands start to shake. 

It was a silly reaction, sure, but you couldn’t help how your body responded.

You gripped the sheets and closed your eyes, holding back the fear that coursed through your veins. You had every intention on letting Edmund sleep peacefully, but with this thunderstorm, it might not go as planned.

“Ed?” You said softly, almost afraid of his response. Edmund groaned from the edge of the bed. 

“What?” He asked, rather roughly. You licked your lips, trying to ignore the sounds coming from your window. “Nevermind. Go back to sleep.” 

You could feel Edmund roll over, assuming that he was facing you now. 

“Is everything alright? You’ve been squirming.” 

Before you could respond, a loud noise that sounded like hundreds of canons erupting came from the window. You whimpered, wincing slightly. 

“I’m fine.” You said hastily, sensing that Edmund was about to say something. You turned away from him in the darkness, clutching the sheets and curling up on the edge of the mattress. 

For a minute, both of you were still. Then, precipitously, you felt a cold arm making its way around your waist. 

You hadn’t heard Edmund move closer to you-perhaps you had been too focused on the horrific noises coming from outside of Cair Paravel-but, regardless, there he was.

You felt his breath on your bare neck as his arm extended to reach all the way around you, pulling his body closer to yours in the process. His lips were mere centimeters away from your collarbone. 

You felt oddly calmed in this position. Even if you didn’t know what to make of it, it was nice to feel his body against yours, keeping you warm. 

“I know the storms here can be a bit scary sometimes,” Edmund whispered, his hot breath hitting your neck with every word he uttered, “You’ll be okay.” He paused, breathing a bit heavily now. “I just want you to feel…safe.” 

You nodded in acknowledgement, a smile beginning to form on your lips. The feeling of Edmund beside you was something you never thought you needed, but now that it was happening, you realized you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

As you lay there, smiling to yourself, the storm slowly dying down and Edmund’s arms around you, you began to think that you would start to feel a little more sane here. 

Has this been done yet?

centineosin’s masterlist

** indicates mature content (smut)

noah centineo say please**

peter kavinsky the help barely bare** + bare**

barely bare → peter kavinsky

warning(s): nsfw 18+

“mm,” peter hummed against your lips as you crushed your lips against his. you’d caught him off guard for sure. he set his history textbook aside, pulling you onto his lap. his large hands settled over your thighs, his thumb rubbing circles into your skin as his hands drew closer to your ass. he leaned back slightly once his hands came in contact with your ass.

“baby,” you moaned against his lips as he swatted at your ass cheek. something he’d never done before. he always worshipped your butt though, telling you how your jeans complimented your curvy features that he loved so much.

it wasn’t until a groan rumbled from peter’s chest that you realized that you were rutting your hips over his. once the sound left his throat, your hips paused, your entire body freezing as this was completely new to you both. but peter knew how to communicate with you.

“keep going,” he encouraged with a pant. as you complied, your lips moving to his jaw and then the side of his neck, your core positioned over the bulge that had started to form. moans erupted from his throat and you were reminded of why you were happy your parents had left for the weekend.

gaining enough confidence, you pushed his chest, causing him to lay down on his back. your hands stayed in his chest as you lifted up the large hoodie of his you wore as a dress. you hiked it up slightly, giving him a view of your white lace panties you’d unknowingly wore. his bottom lip had caught in between his teeth as he cursed under his breath. his hand squeezed your thigh as he tried to contain himself not to tear you up. but he wanted to enjoy this.

sitting up in a better position, you’d crossed peter’s arms against his chest, pinning them down as your hips moved more accordingly. instead of moving them in circles, you moved them along his clothed cock. peter could feel your juices through his grey joggers, hell it even made a stain that he sinfully loved. he thought about how he’d ruin your soaked panties, your white lace that he adored so much on your skin.

peter wanted nothing more than to drag his hand to your hip, guiding you along his cock, but you were already doing such a good job for him. it felt so good, but he needed an extra umph.

you leaned your head back, your hair curtaining behind you, a soft moan falling into the thick air that surrounded the two of you. god, the sound of you wrecked him. you getting off to rubbing up on him made him want to ruin you.

“peter,” you whimpered. he sucked in a deep breath of air, slightly pushing his hips in the air.

“atta girl angel,” peter mumbled. it was the only thing he could do, since his wrists were bound by you. “rub yourself on me, you like that princess? you love knowing you can get me hard like this.” his deep, musky voice alone had almost triggered you an orgasm. at this point, you’d dropped your entire weight onto his lap, pulling your hips back and forth against him. “come on beautiful, come on,” he gasped.

at one point, your panties had slipped to the side, being able to feel all of him. feeling every crevice, every vein on his clothed cock.

“fuck!” peter shouted, snapping you out of your daze. before you even knew it, you’d felt something wet underneath you and this time it wasn’t you. you looked down and the wet patch had grown. you could see the outline of his cock and then a wet patch above the head of his dick. he’d came in his pants.

peter immediately flipped you over onto your back, laying against you as he mumbled against your ear, “look what you did. you made a mess.” his lips brushed against your ear, his raspy voice sending shivers down your spine. “i’m gonna have you make a mess again babygirl, think you can do that for me?”

Now this is quality smut. Foreplay. All foreplay. QUALITYYY

Angels and Bruises | Peter Parker Soulmate AU (Requested)

Request: Hay dude I love ur writing! I was wandering if you could do a Soulmate AU where when you write on ur skin or have a bruse it appears on ur soulmates skin and the reader is a mutant with wings who works for HYDRA? If not no worries and thanks if you do 😁😁😁

Pairing: Peter Parker x mutant!reader

Warnings: cringey cheesiness also it sucks

A/N: i made a slight edit and made it so the reader used to work for hydra and doesnt anymore but I hope this is what you were looking for! Vv sorry it took so long! Also its a bit more soulmate au than mutant!reader so i apologize for that

Word Count: 1314

-

The loud sound of the helicopter landing made all other noise non-existent as the whooping blades were all you could hear. You watched in terror as the feathers of your wings blew back. Despite your fear, you stood your ground, fighting back to urge to crumble in despair. Hydra didn’t train you to be a coward. You had to succeed in taking down the Avengers, and that’s what you would do.

Next thing you knew, all the Avengers were stood in front of you, poised and ready to fight. You felt your fear bubble up inside you and you choked it down. The first jolt of action was Hawkeye’s arrow flying straight past your face. You shot up, your wings carrying you over the group as you showered them in bullets from the gun Hydra gave you. Iron Man blasted up to meet you in the sky, ramming into your sideways, sending you spiraling to the ground. You recovered quickly, facing Black Widow on the ground. Her fighting skills were no match for yours. You would’ve flown away but your wing was damaged. She kicked you across the pavement and you laid trying to conjure up a game plan. You felt the ground shake beneath you and looked up to Hulk barrelling toward you. You rolled out of the way just in time and tuned in to your radio to tell the agents at Hydra you needed help. You were met with a silent static line. You rolled your eyes and turned to fight Captain America. He beat you up more than Black Widow did. By this point, you were almost completely useless. Cap used his shield to shove you toward Thor. You gave in. You surrendered to your fear. You could barely let a tear slip before you were being catapulted across the parking lot. The last thing you felt was your body colliding with a strong brick building. Then you woke up.

You had learned to accept the recurring flashbacks that haunted your subliminal mind each night, curing each terror with a glass of water and an Oreo. You always found yourself sneaking out onto the fire escape to get away from the dreams that cursed you. You would gaze out onto the streets of Queens while trying to forget your past. You spent countless nights on the fire escape with a pen drawing on your wrists. The action brought you peace of mind. Sometimes they were mindless flowers and leaves, other times it was something with more depth. Angels. They reminded you of your wings, that you were still good. You had wings, and so did angels. It kept you grounded every time you woke from those night terrors. Sometimes you’d imagine you had a halo hovering above your head. You’d smile gently at the thought and forget about the dreams.

Every night atop the same building, Peter ate his sandwich and reported to Happy the events of the evening. He’d end each message with the same line. “Call me back. It’s Peter. Parker.” He’d turn off his phone before swinging back home. He would crawl as quietly as possible back into his room, slip off his suit, and stare at his reflection in the mirror. He would occasionally acquire a bruise on his cheek from a run in with a mugger. He’d take in his tired, sweaty appearance. His disgusting state was just a side effect of being a web-slinging superhero. He would retire to his bed and let out a groan as he laid down, letting the events of the day run through his mind once more, bringing him peace. He would grin softly, knowing his city was safe because of him.

You would wake up each morning to a new bruise in a random place, but most often on your head for some reason. You knew why they were there. The soulmate thing. The bruises of your soulmate appear on your skin. You wished you knew who your soulmate was, and why they hit their head so much. Each morning while looking at the bruises, you would imagine who he was.

Maybe he was a football player who gets bruised every Friday night at the game. Maybe he’s a wrestler who acquires a few bumps and bruises per match. Maybe he was a superhero, getting a little bloody fighting bad guys every night. “How unrealistic,” you’d laugh at yourself.

Peter’s favorite thing to wake up to was doodles on his skin. He’d find a couple drawings on his wrists each day, usually of flowers or hearts. Every once in a while, an angel. He would imagine his soulmate sitting in the middle of the night and sketching out the little doodles. He imagines she’s got her tongue poking out of her mouth with the pen at attention, scribbling the flowers with concentration. He can’t help but wonder what she’s like.

Maybe she was an artsy girl who spent every waking hour sketching in a journal. Maybe when she drew angels, she had been woken by a bad dream and needed a reminder that her guardian angel was watching her. Maybe she’s an angel. “That’s crazy, Peter,” he’d mutter to himself.

One day during chemistry, you traced a finger over the angel you had drawn on your wrist the night before. You noticed one of the wings was smudged so you pulled out your black pen. You began fixing the wing. Content with the result, you put your pen away. You started doodling on the cover of your notebook when the teacher made an announcement.

“We’ll be starting a lab today and I will assign you your lab partner,” he said. Half the class groaned while the other didn’t pay attention. You heard and frustrated sigh from behind you and turned to find the source. Ned Leeds waved at you when you made eye contact with him. You nodded back and spun back around.

“Flash and MJ, Peter and Y/N.” You gathered your things and moved to sit beside Peter Parker. He was in the back of the class and right before you sat down he slammed a drawer closed. You shrugged it off and got out your lab notebook to prepare the lab report. You pushed up your sleeves to grab the chemicals you needed. You reached across Peter to grab the vial of hydrochloric acid and heard him gasp.

“What?” You questioned. He took your wrist into his hands and ran his thumb over the inked angel. “What is it?”

Peter didn’t use his words, simply turning his wrist over and pushing his sleeve up as well. You traced the identical angels on his wrist before looking up at his face.

“Do you have a bruise on your right bicep?” He questioned. You nodded slowly, starting to understand what this meant. He was your soulmate. Peter Parker, the nerd who was shy and awkward, brilliant and extraordinary, was your soulmate. You let out a breath of realization before smiling ear to ear.

“Soulmates,” you said, taking his hand. He grinned too, staring into your eyes.

“Mr. Parker and Miss Y/L/N, enough PDA. Get to work please,” your teacher scolded as he walked past.

“I like your angel drawings,” Peter said as he released your hand.

“Thanks,” you replied bashfully. “Why do you hit your head so much?”

Peter’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. “Um… I’m just really, uh, clumsy. Yeah, clumsy.”

He seemed uneasy but you let it go. You reached under the lab and held his hand again, jotting down the instructions for your lab assignment. He stared at you in wide-eyed amazement.

Most people don’t find their soulmate until they’re in their 20s, even 30s. But you and Peter found each other in high school simply because of a lab assignment, and secrets you didn’t want anyone else to know.

Don't kill yourself, please.

If you’re suffering from depression and are looking for a sign to not go through with ending your life, this is it. This is the sign. We care.

If you see this on your dash, reblog it. You could save a life.

You just saved mine.

I wish I could have saved my little brother. I will dedicate the rest of my life to sharing words like this until I can save one life.

IF YOU NEED TO CALL 911 BUT ARE SCARED TO BECAUSE OF SOMEONE IN THE ROOM, dial and ask for a pepperoni pizza. They will ask if you know you’re calling 911. Say yes, and continue pretending you’re making an order. They’ll ask if there’s someone in the room.

You can ask how long it will take for the pizza to get to you, and they will tell you how far away a dispatcher is.

Here is an example video

Reblog to literally save a life

I’ve done this.  I’m alive because of this. 

My flat-mate’s date for the night was almost as drunk as her.  She had passed out in her room and locked the door.  He refused to leave because he wanted to have sex.  He also demanded food because he was dealing with “whiskey dick”.  He didn’t like the lack of food in the fridge.  I called 911, did the stuff stated above, and he was getting PISSED about how long the “order” was taking.  He took my phone, demanded they “hurry the fuck up”.  Police arrived two minutes later, arrested him, and helped me file a police report.  Pressing charges wasn’t necessary because he had warrants on him from THREE different states for the very thing he planned to do to me.  Several months after this happened one of the officers informed me he was charged with two felonies because he crossed stay lines, and will be serving no less than 35 years in prison.  The officer ripped into my flat-mate about her bringing home complete strangers, while drunk, knowing full well this shit could happen. 

This was 14 years ago.  

Do the pizza order, do it as calmly as you can.  The dispatcher I spoke to said things like this:

“If he’s drunk say you want mushrooms.”  I said I want extra mushrooms.

“If he’s threatening you with sexual assault say you want onions.”  I said I want onions.

She went like this with different toppings and sauces for a description of him, like pineapple if he’s blonde, black olives if he’s tall, extra large if he’s tall, etc.

They’ve heard this sort of coded call before.  They’re trained for it.  They will understand what you’re saying.  Order the pizza.

Really though. I’m in training for dispatch and this was one of the first things they taught us. Pretend you’re talking to a friend or relative, pretend you’re ordering pizza, we’ll figure it out. We’ll word questions so you can answer in an easy, casual way. Please, just make the call and we will do everything we can to help you.

Reblog to save a life

The Golden Girl-Lip Gallagher Imagine

Requested: Yes

Warnings: Underage drinking, drug use, sensuality, sexual implications, and language

A/N: Y/O/B/F/N= your other best friend’s name

   “Why didn’t I skip class today?” Mandy groaned, throwing her head back.

    “Because if you got caught skipping again, you would get suspended…again,” Lip muttered behind her.

    They were sitting in their eighth period British Lit class while Mr. O’Neil talked about some dead poet. Lip was only paying half attention since he already knew most of the information and he got good grades without even trying. He had a few more important things on his mind like Fiona and his other siblings and the trouble he and Ian could get into over the weekend. However, the other kids in the class could hardly afford zoning out in the way he did. 

    “…and that is how Edgar Allen Poe invented the modern detective story,” Mr. O’Neil concluded with a small smile under his wiry gray mustache. “Now, before you leave, I have to return your midterm essays.”

     “What’s the point? I know I failed,” Mandy muttered.

     “You never know. You could’ve gotten a D this time.”

      Lip smirked as Mandy turned around to slap his arm. It stung a little, but Lip laughed it off. 

       “We can’t all be weird geniuses like you.”

       “Most of you did not seem to grasp the concept I was looking for, which is confusing since all I requested was for you to dissect and analyze a piece of literature we previously discussed in class,” Mr. O’Neil said as he began handing back papers.

        A lot of the kids rolled their eyes, laughed, or groaned when they received their papers. It took a minute for Mr. O’Neil to get to Mandy and Lip.

       “I expect more from you, Miss Milkovich,” Mr. O’Neil said.

        “Have you met my brothers?” Mandy retorted.

        Mr. O’Neil cast a distaste look in her direction, but recovered a little as he handed Lip his paper. “Very good work, Mr. Gallagher.”

        “Thank you, Mr. O’Neil,” Lip said.

         Scrawled on top of his paper was a 90 along with the comment “Good work, Mr. Gallagher. Your input was interesting but the dissections were a bit off.”

          “Not bad, Gallagher,” Mandy muttered.

          “Thanks.”

          Lip couldn’t help but feel a little proud of himself. He was always the smartest person in the room, even though the room primarily consisted of idiots. It was nice to be reminded of it. 

          “Miss Y/L/N, I was quite impressed with your work. I have never read such original or thoughtful input on Emily Dickinson.”

          The girl had a small, wan smile on her lips as she accepted her paper. “Thanks, Mr. O’Neil.”

           “In fact, you scored the highest on this assignment.”

           Y/N smiled shyly yet again and muttered a polite “thanks” to the teacher as she placed her essay neatly in her English folder.

           “Looks like Little Miss Perfect beat you out,” Mandy teased in a whisper.

           “I’ll let her have it, this is probably the only pleasure she gets out of life besides reading and studying all the time,” Lip muttered.

             Y/N Y/L/N had to be the most innocent girl Lip had ever encountered and she was also his biggest competition when it came to academic standing. She was smart as a whip, but she didn’t flaunt it like Lip did sometimes. In fact, she mostly kept to herself, save for the two girls Lip saw her hanging around. Y/N was every parent’s wet dream: quiet, polite, kind, and a bit of an over achiever. She was the class president, captain of the debate team, and captain of the girl’s tennis team. In fact, the only trouble she probably got in was for jaywalking. Lip didn’t really have anything against her but he also didn’t really like competition.

           Finally, Mr. O’Neill released them, and Mandy and Lip were the first two out of the classroom.

          “Just admit it, Lip, you don’t like that Goody Two Shoes beat you out for the highest grade,” Mandy said.

          “It’s just a stupid essay, Mandy, besides, getting good grades is probably the only way Y/N could experience an orgasm,” Lip said.

          Mandy burst out laughing and Lip smirked deeply. “That is true, I don’t think Y/N would know what to do with a dick if she ever saw one.”           As Mandy and Lip laughed, they were interrupted by someone running into Lip. 

          “Hey, watch where the f–ck you’re going,” he snapped.

          “Oh, sorry!” Y/N squeaked.

          Lip instantly regretted his words when he saw how Y/N clutched her book to her chest. “It’s fine, forget about it.”           “Hey, Y/N,” Mandy said.

          “Hey, Mandy.” Y/N readjusted the strap of her messenger bag. “Have any fun plans for this weekend?”

          “I might go to a party or two. You?”

          “I am keeping my options open.” 

          “Y/N!” Y/B/F/N yelled from across the hallway.

          Y/N sighed a little. “I have to go, sorry about running into you like that, Lip.”

         “Don’t worry about it.”

          Y/N hurried off to meet her friend on the other end of the hallway and they immediately began giggling together. Y/B/F/N said something to Y/N that made her eyes widen and take a quick glance at Lip. When she saw that he was looking at her, she quickly turned back around to her friend, who began snickering.

           “Hello, earth to Lip?” Ian asked.

          “What?” He turned to face Ian and Mandy.

          “I was asking if we were still going to Rose Martin’s party tonight,” Ian said. 

          “Why wouldn’t we be?”

          “Because it’s in Old Town and we’re south side trash.”

          “Hey, we’re only trash if we think we’re trash, so stop thinking we’re trash,” Lip said.

          “Fine. Now tell me, what had you so distracted that you couldn’t answer me?” Ian asked.

         “Nothing.”

         “Bullsh-t!”

         Mandy smirked. “It was because of her wasn’t it?”

         “Who?” Ian asked.

         “Shut up, Mandy,” Lip said.

         “Y/N, Lip’s got a thing for her,” Mandy said.

         “Y/N Y/L/N? The same girl who cried when Eddie Carver kicked a baby rabbit over the school fence?” Ian asked.

         “That was third grade,” Lip said. “And I don’t like her like that.”          “Why not? Because she’s too good for you?” Ian teased.

         “No, because she’s too f-cking innocent. It would be like being with a little kid all the time,” Lip muttered. 

          “I would believe you if you hadn’t been eye-f-cking her a second ago.”

        Lip didn’t respond, and he didn’t really know why he had gotten so defensive when Ian and Mandy began suggesting that he liked Y/N. He barely spoke to her except in passing and there was no way she would go for a Gallagher of all people. Somehow, he still found himself attracted to her innocent, shy nature. He would ruin her and she didn’t deserve that.

        Late that night, the party was in full swing at Rose Martin’s penthouse in Old Town, Chicago. Her father had won the lottery two months ago, so the penthouse was filled with gaudy art, strange mini statues that were considered art, and stainless, techy everything. Waka Flocka’s “It’s A Party” was blasting through the speakers as teenagers grinded to the beat throughout the penthouse. In the kitchen, a group of people were playing drinking games; the bathroom was dedicated to cocaine; the bedrooms were used for coitus; and the balcony was for the cigarette and pot smokers. Lip, Ian, and Mandy were in the living room in the middle of the chaos, dancing as they drank. Lip was near the threshold of being drunk, but was still in the place where the colorful lights didn’t transfix him and he still had control of himself. 

          “This is the best night ever!” Mandy shouted over the music.

           Ian and Lip shouted in response before they toasted her words and downed the vodka in their cups. It went down smooth since Rose could afford not to scrimp on the alcohol anymore.

         “I love Rose Martin!” Ian exclaimed.

         “You can’t, you don’t swing that way!” Lip shouted back.

         “F-ck it!”

        Lip and Mandy burst out laughing. In the midst of the madness, Mandy ended up grinding with some guy and Ian disappeared. Lip ended up wandering out of the living room and went outside to light up a cigarette. The sky was completely ink black with a few stars scattered in the mix. A few people were smoking pot or cigarettes around the balcony. In the corner was a group of girls wearing short dresses and skirts, giggling. One of them looked extremely familiar to Lip but he couldn’t put his finger on it. She flipped her y/hc ponytail and burst out laughing at something before turning around. Lip nearly dropped his cigarette.

        “Y/N?” he whispered.

        She was wearing an oversized blue button down shirt that managed to accentuate her curves with a pair of black over the knee boots. Her hair was pulled in a ponytail with a few strands falling around her face, which was made up in a tasteful fashion with gold eyeshadow bringing out her y/e/c eyes and blush to compliment her skin tone. She was holding a plastic cup filled with white wine and her friends had sneaky smiles on their faces when they saw Lip.

        “Lip!” Y/N stumbled over to him, managing not to spill a drop of her wine. “It’s so good to see you.”

       “What are you doing here?” Lip asked.

       “Drinking.” Y/N took a long swig of her drink to prove her point. 

       “I can see that, it’s just, this isn’t really your scene.”

       “I guess you don’t know me as well as you think you do.” She managed to smolder at him which managed to both amuse and arose Lip at the same time.

        “How many of those have you had?” Lip asked.

        “Don’t worry about it, Dad, I can handle my alcohol, see?” Y/N downed the rest of her wine and smiled.

         “Maybe you should go back to your friends.”

         “I’m sick of them, I want to talk to you.” Y/N leaned more of her weight into Lip and he paused to grab her. 

          He kept his lit cigarette between his lips as he pulled her to stand upright. “Fine, let’s talk.”

         “Can I try one of those?”

          “Why would you want to smoke?” Lip asked.

         “Because I can.”

          Lip looked at her skeptically before handing her cigarette and lighting it for her. Of course, Y/N almost immediately began coughing, making everyone turn to look at her and Lip. Lip shook his head as he patted her back.

          “You have to inhale deeper before you exhale, like this.” Lip showed her and Y/N nodded before following his lead. “See, it’s easy.”

          “Thanks,” Y/N said.

          “Geez, I feel like I’m corrupting you.”

          “You’re not. I’ve done a lot more than you think I have.”

          “What does that mean?”

         Unfortunately, Lip was interrupted by the strains of “Hips Don’t Lie” coming from inside. Y/N squealed. “I love this song!” 

          She tossed her cigarette down and ground it out with her toe before hurrying inside.

         “Y/N.” Lip got rid of his cigarette as well and followed Y/N’s lead.

         He almost immediately lost her but quickly spotted her dancing with Ian. They had created some sort of salsa two-step that mostly consisted of Ian twirling Y/N around and dipping her. Though Lip trusted Ian, he couldn’t help but feel protective over Y/N. It was strange how worrying about her sobered him up.

          “You’re being ridiculous; you barely know her,” he hissed to himself.

          He decided he needed another drink and headed into the kitchen. That’s where he found Mandy, mixing drinks at the kitchen counter while another group of people played flip cup.

           “Hey, stranger,” Mandy said as she poured a drink into a glass.

           “What made you hide out in here?”            “Tyler Sanders’ hands kept wandering to places I did not want them to. I decided to see how good of a bartender I am.” Mandy handed him the glass she just poured.

           “Thanks.” He took a sip. “Not bad, what is it?”

          “Dirty martini.”

           “Of course. Did you know that Y/N was coming?”

           “No, but I saw Y/O/B/F/N leave the bathroom wiping her nose and figured Y/N had to be around somewhere. She is full of surprises.”

             “Yeah,” Lip muttered.

             “Do I need to make you another drink?”

              “Maybe later.”

             “That sour look on your face wouldn’t have anything to do with Y/N being into the party scene, right?”

             “Not really, it’s just weird seeing her drunk.”

            “I like it, it makes her more relatable. She’s not better than either of us.”

            “Of course she’s not. She goes to a Chicago public school.”

            “True, but maybe you’re so weirded out by it because you liked the idea of her being super innocent and you don’t like that you can’t be her first, well, whatever.”

             He hated how right Mandy was sometimes. While it was kind of cool to see Y/N let lose, Lip kind of liked the idea of making her do something bad just for him. He had no idea when those feelings started but seeing her act so drunk was bringing them out.

            After a couple more drinks, he and Mandy made their way back into the living room, where Y/N and Ian were the center of attention. It made sense since the openly gay Gallagher was grinding with the supposed sweetheart of the south side. 

             “Y/N’s got moves,” Mandy said.

             “Uh huh,” Lip said, trying to ignore the tinges of jealousy creeping up on him.

            However, everything came to a head when Y/N pulled Ian close and they began making out, causing everyone to scream and yell. That was the last straw. Lip quickly broke them up, much to the crowd’s chagrin.

             “What the hell, Lip?” Ian demanded.

            “Ian, you don’t know what you’re doing, you’re drunk and you have a boyfriend,” Lip hissed.

            “Not really, besides, Y/N’s a good kisser. Were you jealous?” Ian shot back.

              “Jealous? Why would you be jealous?” Y/N slurred. Then she grinned. “You wanna dance with me, Lip?”

                She wrapped her arms around Lip’s neck and leaned into him. Lip’s arms immediately wrapped around her waist out of instinct but he didn’t start dancing. Mandy and Ian had begun dancing together somewhere else in the room.

               “Y/N, you’re drunk.”

               “I wanna dance.” She turned around in Lip’s arms and began grinding against him, leaning her head against his chest.

               Lip gulped before hesitantly grinding with her, holding her hips and keeping her pressed against him. He didn’t know what got into him but he began kissing down the side of her neck. Then, he turned her to face him and grabbed her face in his hands and really looked at her. Her eyes were completely dilated but she was so beautiful.

                “I can’t do this.”

                 “Do what? Dance with me?” Y/N teased.

                “Not just that, it’s, you’re too perfect. You deserve better than this, better than me.”

                Lip moved to pull away from Y/N, but she grabbed him. Her eyes held a deep sincerity in them, albeit they were extremely dilated.

                 “You’re perfect,” she said with a large smile. 

                  “You’re drunk.”

                  “Yes, but I know that you’re funny, really smart, and loyal, a little impulsive, and a bit self-destructive. And you’re daring and really, really, really hot,” Y/N said.

                  “You really think all that about me?”

                   Y/N nodded. “Ever since second grade, but I thought I wasn’t cool enough for you, but I do go out sometimes and I have made many questionable decisions.”

                  Lip had a lot of questions, a majority of which had to do with what questionable decisions Y/N had made. But, all he could think about was how Y/N thought she wasn’t good enough for him. 

                 “You’re cool in your own way.”

                  “Now that’s a load of bullsh-t.” Y/N started laughing, a sound that made Lip smile.

                 He cupped her face in his hands again and slowly, she stopped laughing. Lip stayed quiet and leaned towards her slowly. Y/N closed her eyes, awaiting to be kissed only to be surprised when Lip kissed her on her forehead.

                 “You missed,” Y/N said.

                 “No. I want you to remember the first time I kiss you and you’re way too sh-tfaced to do that right now. If you still feel the same way about me when you’re sober, we can pick up where we left off.”

                 “But I want you now. I promise I won’t regret it.”

                 Lip didn’t listen to any of her protests as the night went on. So, they continued dancing, earning winks and rude gestures from Ian and Mandy. When the party was over, Lip took Y/N home to make sure she was safe. 

                “But who’s gonna walk you home?” Y/N asked as Lip helped her walk up the steps.

                  “I am.”

                “Why do you get to walk yourself home and not me?”

                “For one thing, I wouldn’t fall if you let go of my shoulders,” Lip said.

                Y/N huffed and leaned against her front door. Lip fished her keys out of her purse and unlocked the door for her. 

                “All right, now be quiet. The last thing we need is your parents coming after me.”

                Y/N nodded and wrapped her arms around Lip’s neck, giggling quietly. Before Lip could stop her, she pressed a sloppy kiss to his cheek before pulling away. “Good night, Lip.”

               “Night, Y/N.”

               She slipped into her house and Lip closed the door behind her.

               All he could do now was pray that she felt the same way about him in the morning.

Princess

super original title xoxo honestly I couldn’t be bothered to spend ages thinking of a decent one, it’s not too important anyway. This is my first time posting an actual thingy thing for a while, and I’m kinda nervous about it because it was a request by @underworldsheiress, who wanted twin brother Edmund to be a top wingman and encourage Caspian to confess his feelings to the reader which leads to smutty smut smut and them being found by overprotective brother™ Peter who loses his shit lmao. It’s kinda long, around 4.5k, and like I said I am pretty nervous about posting it because it’s not just something I wrote when an idea popped into my head, but I hope y’all like it anyway :)

—

Went from prince to papi real quickk

“You’re cute”

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Featuring: -

Words: 1050

Warnings: -

Tags: @imabloodynerd

Request: -

Notes: i know this one sucks but i hope you like it a bit at least haha

MASTERLIST

It’s a fact: high school sucked. Studying, the pressure, the exams, the teachers, being locked up in there half of the day… The only good things in there were the friends you made along the way. But even that part was complicated if your damn father had to be moving from place to place every few months due to work. You had never had real friends since you had never been in a place long enough to consider someone a friend. That had ending in you being a lonely girl who had troubles getting attached to people. What was the point if you were going to leave by the end of the year again?

It didn’t matter how much you tried to fight it, there was no way your dad would stand up for himself and talk to their bosses. So there you were, third year of high school and third time being the new one. You walked out of the secretary with two papers in your hand: your schedule and the code for your locker. There you were, walking down the Midtown High School in Queens, feeling like a stranger all over again as faces went by. Most of them looked at you, knowing you were the new one. You were completely used to those looks by now so you kept your head down until you reached your locker.

“6…12…7…14…2…” you mumbled as you moved the wheel. Of course, when you tried to open it, it didn’t move. Sighing, you tried it again but it didn’t work. “Fucking great” you mumbled.

“Wait”, a voice said behind you. You looked back and saw a guy standing there. “I can open it. It was mine last year. It sucks” he said.

“Oh great” you smiled a little and stepped away.

He put the code again and punched the door once, opening it on his first try. Impressive. He smiled at you and stepped away so you could put your books inside.

“Thank you for that” you told him. He looked like a good guy.

“You’re new, right?” He asked. You chuckled putting your jacket into the locker as well.

“What gave me away?” You asked closing it before hanging your bag over your shoulder.

“You amazing capacity to open a locker” he said sarcastic. You laughed and nodded.

“I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N)” you introduced yourself.

“I’m Peter Parker” he smiled. “What do you have now?” He asked pointing at your schedule. You looked down and sighed.

“Biology. Room 301” you said.

“Oh, that’s right there” he said pointing to a door. You looked and saw it was already open, people walking inside. Suddenly, you felt a bit nervous. “If you’re with Mr Thompson you’ll be okay. He’s a nice man” he told you.

“And if I don’t?” You asked looking at him. He laughed and shrugged.

“You’ll be fine” he smiled at you. “I gotta go too. See you later” he smiled.

You watched him walk down the aisle and get lost through the people. With a sigh you walked into the class he had told you. The teacher wasn’t there so you took the opportunity to set at the back of the class. Every single year, every single teacher made you introduce yourself to the whole class which you hated. Being the centre of attention made you feel nauseous and you were tired of the feeling. Hopefully, if you sat back there he wouldn’t pay attention to you.

There was no luck. The first thing the teacher said when he walked in was that there was a new student. You were forced to go to the front of the class and talk. By the time you could go back to your seat, your palms were sweaty. Fuck being the new girl. Fortunately, it was the only time you had to introduce yourself during the day. Your last class was Chemistry and when you walked in you saw you were going to have to work in pairs. That wasn’t new. You choose a table and took out your notebook and pen before the teacher came in.

“Hey there” you looked to your side and saw that guy, Peter, next to you. “I guess we have Chemistry” he added. You raised an eyebrow, making him blush when he realised what he had said. “The class I mean! T-this…t-his is Chemistry class. Room 314” you laughed and nodded.

“Calm down there” you chuckled. “And yes, we have” you shrugged.

“You have a partner?” He asked pointing at the seat.

“People are not exactly fighting to be with me so…go ahead” you said. He smiled and sat next to you. “Be aware, I’m a disaster at Chemistry” you warned him.

“Good thing I’m not then” he smiled.

When the teacher came in you all shut up and looked at the front. He didn’t say anything about you so when he started the class properly after a small presentation of it, you let out a sigh of relief. Peter looked at you curious.

“I hate being introduced so I was praying not to be forced to go there and…introduce myself” you explained.

“Really?” He asked in a whisper.

“Yes, my hands get sweaty, my stomach gets crazy…” you shrugged. He smiled at you and then chuckled.

“You’re cute” he said without thinking. You looked at him with a small smile.

“What?” You asked. His face went red immediately, his pen dropped, making you laugh and cover your mouth.

“No-nothing, I’m so sorry” he started mumbling. He was cute actually.

“Parker, is there any problem?” The teacher asked. Suddenly the whole class was looking at you two.

“No, sir, I’m sorry” Peter said, blushing even more, which made you chuckle again.

The teacher narrowed his eyes before he kept on with his explanation. Peter looked at you and gave you a shy smile before he started taking notes. With a sigh you did the same thing, still with a smile on your face. As you took notes, you looked at him from time to time, just like he did. Every time your eyes met, he blushed and you let your hair fall so he wouldn’t see your blushing. Hopefully you didn’t have to change school this time. You already wanted to stay in this one for good.

I wanna CRYYY THIS IS SO CUTE

Things girls want in a guy

•A Chemistry nerd •Peter Parker •A guy who wears cool T-Shirts •Peter Parker •Someone who looks out for other people •Peter Parker •Someone who cares about his family and friends •Peter Parker •Someone who loves Star Wars •Peter Parker •An all around selfless, honest, funny, and loyal good guy •Peter Parker Basically girls just want Peter Parker, is that too much to ask?

Side to Side

Pairing: Tom Holland!Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Prompts: None

Word Count: 2465

Warning(s): Some swear words, slight smut (Nothing crazy but it goes there)

Requests: I have like 10 followers so like none of you pay attention to me (jk jk you guys are cool)

Song: Side to Side  (duh) by Ariana Grande

Author’s Note: This is kinda crap but I’m totally obsessed with Tom Holland and Spider-Man Homecoming so come on this wild ride and be trash with me! Give me feedback please I promise I’ll get to it in like 10 years

Summary: Reader and Peter (slant rhyme woo) are friends and both on the Avengers. They’re training in the gym and things get s t e a m y…

Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4

Keep reading

Hickies (Peter Parker x Reader)

Request: can you do one where Peter and reader got a bit steamy with a make out session and Peter doesn’t notices to ton of very very noticeable hickies on him until he’s left his room and him trying to survive the day with it?

A/N: Hey guys! I am finishing my exams this Wednesday, so I will probably upload nothing else until then -I will try to write my imagine based on the incredible trailer that day, so it should be up on Thursday at most!

Peter laughed softly as your lips traveled down his neck, leaving small kisses. His t-shirt was off, you wearing it. ‘’Babe, somebody is gonna barge in’’ he whispered, a smile on his lips as your lips kissed his stomach. ‘’Are you giving me a hickie?’’ he asked, furrowing his brows. You raised your head to look at him, a smile plastered on your face. ‘’Of course not’’ you reassured him. He brought your face close to his and kissed you, the kiss getting more intense as time passed. His hands traveled to your hair, messing it up, then moving to your hips and pulling you closer to him as he sat on the bed. You put your hands on his hair, pulling at some strands and making him groan. Lowering your head, you started to kiss his neck again, his eyes closed. His hands moved to your butt, making you moan softly as you gave him a hickie, which was followed by multiple others, although he didn’t notice. You kissed him on the lips again, his tongue entering your mouth as your hands drew patterns on his back. He run his hands up and down your body, enjoying the feeling of having you so close to him. Finally pulling apart to breathe, you rested your forehead against his and smiled softly, opening your eyes to find his looking at you with an expression full of love. He grinned before grabbing the hem of his t-shirt with his hands. ‘’Will you give me back my t-shirt so I can go out and have breakfast?’’ he said, the grin still on his face. You laughed and took it off, his eyes never leaving your body. You then put on your clothes, and as you looked at him putting on his t-shirt, you admired the way his neck was full of hickies, although he didn’t notice. ‘’Let’s go grab some food’’ you said, getting up from bed and grabbing his hand. You both left your room at the Avengers Tower and walked towards the kitchen, a comfortable silence between you. When you got to the kitchen, everybody was there, considering it was still pretty early and they couldn’t afford to sleep in and lose training. ‘’Good morning everyone’’ you said as you let Peter’s hand go, walking to the fridge to get some juice. Peter sat on a stool as you passed him some pancakes, and Tony looked at him with a smirk on his face before nudging Steve’s side. ‘’Spiderboy, what you got in your neck?’’ he asked, the smirk present on his voice. Peter automatically raised his hand and put it on his neck, trying to see if he had something. ‘’What do you mean?’’ he asked, his voice raising an octave. ‘’It seems like somebody decided to paint a sunset there’’ Natasha told him. You rested against the counter, a cup of warm coffee in your hands, which you brought close to your lips. ‘’I’m pretty artsy, right?’’ you asked, taking a small sip of your drink. Peter gasped and looked at you, an offended look in his eyes. ‘’You said you hadn’t given me a hickie!’’ he accused you. ‘’When you asked me, I hadn’t’’ you said, shrugging your shoulders. Everybody laughed as they looked at Peter, who looked like an angry kid. ‘’What am I supposed to tell my aunt? The ‘I fell going down the stairs’ excuse isn’t gonna make it this time!’’ he complained.

Helping Hand P2

Summary: Who knew that being saved by spiderman would start a blossoming friendship… or maybe something more?

Requested: No

Word Count: 2.4k

Taglist: 

Warning(s)?: flUFF HEAPS OF FLUFF, MY POOR BABY INJURED (if thats even a warning)

masterlist (x) requests (x)

——————————————————–

Part 1  Part 3

Helping Hand 

Once you let ‘Bug Boy’ inside your room you began to make your way over to your en-suite. You walked over to the sink and bent down, opening the cupboards to grab your first aid kid which you have learnt to keep fully stocked for future 'encounters’ with Bug Boy. 

“So what happened this time?” You asked as you walked back into the room, the first aid kid in your hands. It was kinda weird that over these past few months you’ve kind of became he’s nurse. Every time he got injured he seem to come to you, needing some patching up. 

At first he kept apologizing, saying he was sorry to keep coming to your apartment when he got injured but you always stopped him. You wanted to help him, in any sort of way you can… I mean.. that’s what friends did for each other right? 

Were you guys friends? 

“Just the usual- *grunt* someone trying to rob a bank” he says then grunts again. You quickly walked downstairs into your kitchen to grab some ice, making sure to be quiet during your trip seeing your parents were asleep. 

You walked back into the room and locked the door to save yourself from any misunderstandings if your parents did happen to decide to come into your room. 

You shake your head, just noticing the very visible scratch like marks that ripped through his suit, blooding seeping through slowly. You still wondered how the hell he hasn’t wound up dead or at least in hospital. You weren’t an actual nurse so if he broke something there was really nothing you could do. 

You began to attend to his wounds, first starting with cleaning most of the blood off of his suit. 

It wasn’t awkward when there was a silence, kind of peaceful actually apart from the grunt here and there from 'Bug Boy’. 

You use to wonder who he was but stopped asking after a while. He didn’t want to tell you and that was fair enough. He said it was too dangerous if someone knew who he really was and you could kind of understand, after all your dad was a cop. You knew what it was like walking around with a target on your back. 

After cleaning the blood you noticed there were more wounds underneath.

“Okay Bug Buy, you need to take off your suit” You remember the first time you asked this you were nervous, you thought he would of objected and shooed you away thinking you were weird but instead he obliged. You tried not to stare as he took of his suit, leaving his pants on and his mask. 

He took of his suit like you had asked. Well more like demanded but okay. 

Again you found it hard not to stare. For the past three weeks your stomach started doing this weird thing everytime you saw him. It was weird, you didn’t even know the guy for crying out loud bu then again you did… 

The process for cleaning him up could take hours which gave you guys a chance to get to know each other. And that’s exactly what happened. 

He would talk about his non 'hero’ life, leaving out his name of course, and talked about things he loved to do. 

For starters he was a photographer and a huge geek, he loved science with a passion so much that once he developed these abilities from a spider bite he created his own webbing!

I mean come on it was pretty hard not to be impressed. 

But little did you know as time went on you would begin to develop feelings for the boy. Yes boy, you would ask him questions, the curiosity getting the best of you. He wouldn’t answer at first but over time he divulged a bit more of himself with you. 

For example you found out he was 16 and in fact went to the same school as you, Midtown Science. 

You always left your most important question to ask just before he left, 'Who are you?' 

He never gave you a response or simply shook his head. To say it wasn’t annoying you would be a lie but at the same time you understood why he wouldn’t tell you. It still doesn’t mean you wish he trusted you enough to tell you… 

“It was weird actually, these guys were all dressed up as the avengers!” He laughed and so did you. Grabbing out some alcohol and a cloth you began to gently dab over the wounds, cleaning them. He winced lightly here and there and you apologized under your breath.

“But that wasn’t the weirdest part-Ahh” He says. You glanced up to notice you lent in a bit too far. You didn’t realize how close you guys were to you could practically feel his breath fan across your face, it was weird, even in his mask you could hear and.. feel him perfectly. 

You willed the butterflies in your stomach to stop, it was making it almost impossible for you to concentrate properly. 

Just breathe Y/N.

“Yeah and then these blue like lasers things were streaming out of- hey are you okay?” Shit. You glanced up noticing your hand had stopped moving and just rested gently near his open wound. You quickly retracted your hand, a blush starting to cover your cheeks. Your head was down so at least he couldn’t see you blushing. 

“Yeah I’m fine” your voice came out a little shaky. You began to work on his wounds again, cleaning them and making sure none of them were too deep that he needed real medical attention. 

You felt his hand on top of yours, stopping your movements. Gosh you could practically hear your heart beat in your ears. 

You hand was beginning to shake a little, he seemed to notice and held even tighter. No you idiot your making it worse.

You didn’t lift your head, you could practically feel fire dance across your cheeks and without a mirror near by, you weren’t too sure on just how obvious your blush was. 

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” You shake your head agreeing with him. You knew you could, you trusted him, with your life. So much that it actually scared you. 

“Yeah I’m just-” You were trying to find the right words to use. 

“Stressed” well it wasn’t a complete lie. 

You hadn’t realized the position the both of you were in till now. You glanced around to see he was leaning against your bed on the ground with you practically between his legs, the rested on either side of you and were bent at the knee. He seemed relaxed in this position but you were far from it. 

“If it’s this whole thing I really am sorry I really should just-”

“No!” He looked at you, you couldn’t tell what expression he wore across his face but you could sense it was one of confusion. 

“I mean, I don’t mind really, it’s nice to be able to help in some kind of way” You finish off, nice save. 

You continued on, grabbing some gauze and tape from the first aid kit. You began to gently press the gauze against his skin, grabbing the tape to tape the side so that it would stay on. You made sure the gauze had some alcohol on it to keep the wound cleaned and to make sure no infection would begin. 

He grabbed your hand softly making your heart begin to race all over again. 

“Thank you” You finally glanced up. You wanted to take off his mask so badly but you didn’t. 

“What do you look like?” Oh my god you didn’t just say that. You were just wondering aloud and unfortunately loud enough for him to hear. 

You were expecting him to laugh at you or shout at you or something but… nothing. It was silent.

And for the first time the silence felt.. awkward. 

“Why?” He asks. Does he always respond with to a question with a question?

But it was a good question. How could you answer that? You knew what you wanted to say but you couldn’t. You couldn’t get the words to escape your mouth. You were utterly mortified in this moment. 

You gulped nervously, you could feel your palms beginning to sweat. Just make something up Y/N…

“Uhhhh to help soothe the curiosity?” You didn’t mean for it to come out as more of a question than a statement. You were too nervous that you couldn’t think straight. You looked away quickly and began to pack up the first aid kit. You didn’t seem to notice how he lent closer, well it wasn’t till you felt the tingles run along your neck. 

You could feel his breath fawning over you again. You momentarily stop, not turning your head just in case this was all just a wonderful dream that you didn’t want to end just yet. 

You went on, slowly putting everything back in and zipping up the bag. 

Everything was silent again, though it felt like something has shifted. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it but something was definitely different. 

Putting the bag down on the ground, you turned your head to face him, beginning to think of a joke to tell him seeing that was your go to when you didn’t know what to do, which was quite often.

Instead you froze.

Expecting to meet the red mask with black holes as the eyes where he could see out of was replaced with a face. A quite handsome face which startled you to no end. You grew tense. 

The boy in front of you had a head full of brown curls that were left in a mess, probably from the mask coming off. 

You could also notice a few faint freckles scattered across his cheek and his nose, you couldn’t tell from far away cause they were faint but up close you could see them clearly. 

You finally mustered the courage to take a look at his eyes. They were so brown. You’ve always found brown eyes kind of dull and boring but his weren’t, it was like a swirl which held secrets, secrets you wish you knew.

You weren’t quite sure how long you were staring at his face for but you didn’t care.

You opened your mouth to speak. But all thoughts flew from your mind when you glanced down at his lips. You didn’t realize how close they were. You also wouldn’t think they would look so pink and beautiful and so- inviting. 

Your could feel your lips suddenly becoming dry. You licked them carefully, moisturizing them while still staring at his lips. 

Though what you didn’t know was the fact that he saw the whole thing and it made something stir inside of him. It left him confused, it was a weird sensation but it was nice. 

“Don’t.. do that” You watched his lips as he spoke. You grew confused.

You glanced up into his eyes with confusion. You were just ignoring all rational thoughts at this point. 

“Do what?” you asked, your voice soft seeing as your faces were close, subconsciously licking your lips again. You weren’t aware of what you had just done. 

He watched this movement closely with his eyes, unknowingly licking his as well. 

Suddenly he yearned to touch you. And so he did. He caressed your cheek with his hand and ran his thumb across your cheek, slowly bringing it closer and closer towards your lips. 

How could he have not noticed how beautiful you were.

Of course he knew the second he laid eyes on you but how come he didn’t notice just how beautiful. He was utterly confused with himself. 

You just lent into his touch, enjoying the feel of his warm hand on your cheek. You were sure you were dreaming.

And you never wanted this dream to end. 

It seemed agonizingly slow. The feel of his hand against your cheek and his thumb lightly tracing different patterns. But even you didn’t notice just exactly where his thumb was travelling. You were enjoying this too much to even care.

It wasn’t until you felt his thumb rest softly against your bottom lip. You opened your eyes, you don’t even remember closing them to begin with. 

But you did, you opened your eyes and stared into his. You just watched as he traced your lips with his thumb, he looked so concentrated on your lips it was adorable. It was almost like he was tracing every inch, memorizing the curves and the bumps. 

You weren’t sure what to do. You knew what you wanted to do but you didn’t have the courage. 

“Who are you?” You asked, his thumb staying against your lip as you spoke. He felt the vibration against his thumb which sent his stomach churning but this was in a good way. 

He just shook his head.

“It doesn’t matter” He says before moving his thumb back to your cheek. He brought up his other hand to rest against your neck and brought your face closer to his. 

His lips were softly placed against yours. You weren’t sure what you were doing so you kinda froze. It wasn’t until you felt him move his lips against yours that you suddenly had this overpowering feeling to kiss him back. So you did.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him closer to you, enjoying the feeling of his mouth moving against yours. You practically feel the butterflies erupting inside your stomach and your heart burst with joy. 

The kiss lasted roughly 15 seconds. You didn’t want it to end but it had to, you guys were human and oxygen was essential so you guys pulled away to breathe. 

“Are you ever going to tell me your name?” You ask out of breath, it almost felt as if you had just ran a marathon but without the numbing feeling in your legs… though your legs were feeling like jelly so you were thankful you were sitting down and not standing. 

He moved his hands down to your waist pulling you even closer to him. You tried not to let that fact that now your torso was against his and you could feel the warmth of the skin mix with you own cloud your thoughts.

“Peter..Peter Parker”

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A/N: Lemme know if you guys want another part to this cause if not then this is the end for this little imagine series called 'Helping Hand' 

Crying