skatetome - Tumblr blog

skatetome · 2 years

Note

hello!! could you please write elinor fairmont x fem reader? hope you have a nice day :)

More Locations Than Pages

Pairing: Elinor Fairmont x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1777 words

Warnings: FIRST KILL SPOILERS!! Fight description

Author's Note: This definitely could've been better, sorry anon :(. I used way too many time breaks. Anyways, thank you so much for the request! I hope you have a good day too!!

University was stressful — every single part of it. Even though you were in your sophomore year, the homesickness and constant pressure to succeed were still both as bad as they were freshman year. You valued the independence you received as a result of going to an out-of-state university and living in a dorm all alone, but there’s nothing you missed more than having your parents to go to when things got too stressful. You definitely didn’t adjust to that change during your first year here, and based on how you’ve been feeling recently, you probably won’t adjust to it during your second year, either. This university lifestyle was what you predicted to be amazing for your wellbeing, but it seems to be the complete opposite.

Your parents putting you under the impression that your grades were the only thing that mattered about you is the main reason university has been so difficult for you. Even after being moved out of their home for two years, the mindset they pushed on you for your entire life was obviously still very prevalent. The thoughts became so familiar to the point where you'd probably feel worse without them. There's a huge chance that your grades would decline, too. If your mind isn't constantly degrading you for every point you get off on an assignment, or telling you that you can put off your needs for a bit since you need to study, would your grades even be above a C-? If you gave up the rigid and intense habits after years of practicing them, what will that mean for your future? While abstaining from that lifestyle would give you answers to those questions, you simply don't feel ready to — at the moment, at least.

You stared at the empty document on your screen. What was supposed to be the first page of a paper with a seven-page minimum was nothing but a piece of digital printer paper that's been sitting in a printer for three weeks. Yep, you've had the last three weeks to write this entire paper. Sadly, for you, the paper was due tomorrow morning. It was currently 11pm, meaning you had twelve hours to write seven pages, which was absolutely impossible for you. You sigh and place your head onto your folded arms that rested on your desk. Your tired eyes glued themselves to the wood of the desk that lies right before them. The heaviness of your eyelids is quickly lifted at the sound of your phone going off. You raise your head from your arms and grab your phone. You reposition yourself into a less lazy seating position as you read and exchange messages with your girlfriend, Elinor Fairmont, or as you call her, Ellie.

———

hey can you come over to my place? it's urgent

sure, i'll bike over. see you in 5

love you. stay safe!

love you too!!

———

You grin as you turn off your laptop. Grabbing your mini backpack from the spot on the floor next to your desk, you stuff your laptop and its charger into it. You zip the top zipper closed and toss both the straps onto your shoulders. You approach the door of your dorm, open it, and lock it the moment you get out of the doorway. You make your way through the empty hallway, humming to the tune of a song that's been stuck in your head as you do so. Once you finally reach the exit, you push the door open and walk straight to the bike rack that rests next to your dorm building. You grab a key down from your pocket and unlock your bike. You walk it away from the rack and hop on the seat. You then start your route to Elinor's house, a route that's practically engraved in your head.

*****

You knock on the door of your girlfriend's house, laying with the straps on your backpack as you wait. You watch as Elinor runs down the staircase and towards the door. She grabs the doorknob and pulls the door open, waving you inside. The look on her face and her fast paced body language alarm you, as the reason she invited you over must've truly been urgent. She walks you up the staircase and pulls you by the wrist into her bedroom, seating you on the bed next to her.

"What's wrong? You seem to... panicked." You ask, concern starting to fill the newly-formed pit in your stomach.

"You're going to hate me." Elinor sighs, a worried smile plastering onto her face.

"I could never hate you, pretty. Just please tell me what's wrong so I can try to help."

You weren't lying. Ellie was perfect in your eyes, and there was truly nothing that could change that. You'd loved her for only a year and a half, but it felt like longer. The memories you two shared were similar to ones of true soulmates — which is where it seemed you and Ellie's relationship stood. You took your backpack off and placed it on the floor next to your feet, not breaking eye contact with Elinor as you waited for her to answer.

"It's a long story, but, basically, I got in a fight with these two guys and one of them tried to stab me but actually ended up stabbing the other guy. Juliette found my lipstick at the scene so she thinks I was the one who stabbed the guy. She stole my storage unit key and now she's with our distant brother Oliver and his girlfriend doing God knows what."

Her entire statement broke your heart. Knowing that she had gotten in a fight with two guys without you there to make sure she was alright was nauseating. The last thing you would want for Ellie is for her to get injured, or, in this case, actually stabbed. You couldn't imagine finding out the news, or even worse, watching her die. You felt one of your eyes fill with tears, which you quickly blinked away.

You and Juliette had always been on pretty good terms. Though you two didn't talk much, your shared conversations about dating girls were always enjoyable. That said, the attempt she was making to ruin Elinor's life with a murder accusation turned you away from her instantly. You couldn't believe that your girlfriend's own sister would do something like this. In fact, this whole situation was unbelieveable.

"Do you think Juliette and your brother will call the cops or something?"

"God I hope not." Elinor replies, plopping down onto the pillowed end of her bed as if she was getting ready to sleep.

"Do you want to get some sleep?" You ask the blonde, following her footsteps in laying down.

After seeing her nod sleepily, you pull the duvet over your two bodies. You bring Elinor closer to you, her head burrowing into your neck. You rub her back slowly, as you two doze off, cuddled against eachother.

*****

What sounded like hundreds of police sirens outside of the Fairmont house woke you up from your sleep. You blink a few times to adjust to the light before slowly removing our arms from Elinor's embrace. You get up from the bed and look out the window, seeing only the edges of red and blue blinking lights. You run back to the bed and stand by Elinor. You bend your knees a bit to get on her level before shaking her body lightly and whisper-shouting at her to wake up. It takes you about five shakes until her eyes started to open. You let go of her for a moment so she could wake up. Once she started to sit up, you pointed at the window as a way of silently showing her what was going on.

"We have to get out of here." You say, reaching your hand out for the tired girl to grab. She obliges and uses it to pull herself from her bed. She walked you both towards the window and let go of of your hand to open said window.

"Hop out, slide down the roof, and meet me down there.. we can run into town and hide, it's just down that hill over there." Elinor cried, the panic starting to settle into the two of you.

You nod at her and wiggle your way through the window frame, falling onto the slanted roof shortly after. You then slide down the roof and onto the grass, your back being the first and only part of your body to take impact. You sigh at the pain as you get up to stretch and wait for Elinor to follow you. You see the girl nervously make her way out of the house right after you. You back away a bit and watch as she slides down the roof and onto the ground where you stand. You reach both of your hands out for her to use to help her get up. You give her a quick peck on the lips before grabbing her hand and guiding the two of you towards the glowing lights of the city.

*****

After what felt like the two of you had run three marathons to get to the city, you rested on a bench to catch your breath. Elinor's head rested on your shoulder as your synced breathing began to slow down and return to a normal pace, similar to your heart rates. The tranquil silence you two had shared for who knows how long helped with your bodies going back to relaxation. Your minds have both slowed down too. The raging thoughts became less speedy and it was easier to come up with an escape plan.

"Do you, um, want to go get a room at that hotel down the street?" You asked your resting girlfriend.

"Sure, can you carry me, though?"

"The things I do for you." You roll your eyes and wrap your arms around your girlfriend to pick her up. You stand up and readjust so you can carry her bridal style. Before you start walking, Elinor pulls you in for a kiss that was well needed for both of you. You stay kissing for just a few moments before she pulls away. You stare into her eyes before pulling her into another kiss.

"That's the suspect!" A man's voice calls out. "In that woman's arms!"

You and Ellie pull away and look at the cops then back at each other. You start running down the streets of Savannah, Georgia with your criminal girlfriend in your arms and a seven-page paper you hadn't even started.

#elinor fairmont #elinor fairmont x reader #elinor fairmont x y/n #elinor fairmont x you #elinor fairmont x you angst #elinor fairmont x you fluff #kinda #elinor fairmont oneshot #elinor fairmont imagine #elinor fairmont angst #elinor fairmont fluff #skatetome #this was so bad i spent like 4 hours on it and it still turned out bad #sorry anon #not fishing btw #whoever requested juliette fairmont i will post it tomorrow probably at this same time btw #bye

146 notes · View notes

skatetome · 2 years

Text

Masterlist and Other Information (pinned)

Click 'Keep Reading' for my other information if you plan to request something

More Locations Than Pages (Elinor Fairmont x Fem!Reader)

Destined and Dream Of (Robin Buckley x Fem!Reader)

The Forgiving Kiss (Tom!Peter Parker x Fem!Mysterio!Reader)

Temperatures of Love (Tom!Peter Parker x Reader)

One Kiss, Hundreds of Lights (Andrew!Peter Parker x Reader)

The Beach (Peter Parker x Reader)

——————

I'm open to requests for the following characters Spiderman:

Peter Parker (any)

Gwen Stacy

First Kill:

Calliope Burns

Juliette Fairmont

Elinor Fairmont

Stranger Things:

Robin Buckley

Nancy Wheeler

Steve Harrington

Euphoria:

Rue Bennett

Cassie Howard

Jules Vaughn

Maddy Perez

Kat Hernandez

Lexi Howard

——————

I don't write/DON'T REQUEST

Smut

Anything weird (beastiality, incest, obviously step-bro/step-sis stuff, etc)

Abusive character/victim reader or vice versa

Pro-sh/pro-ed stuff (I'm fine with writing comfort fics but nothing like pro sh or pro ed bf/gf ones)

Male reader (with the exception of gn!reader)

Real people fiction

I do write/DO REQUEST

Fluff

Angst

Any trope that doesn't go against my 'I don't write' list

Female and occasional gender neutral reader

47 notes · View notes

skatetome · 2 years

Text

Destined and Dreamed Of

Pairing: Robin Buckley x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1462 words

Warnings: None

Author's Note: no season 4 spoilers, in fact, i would say robin's personality in this was more how she was in s3. reader is referred to as a woman obv

Blue lights flicker as bodies dance on each other. Music, that's pretty much entirely consumed by the booms of the bass, blares in everyone's ears. The room reeks of vodka and perfume. What most would consider a sensory overload was an absolute luxury for Hawkins kids. If Karen and Ted hadn't been out of town, Nancy, and her self-proclaimed co-host, Mike, would've never hosted this party. Robin Buckley seemed to be the only one who wanted the couple back in town.

The girl's bitter glare directed itself towards you talking with Steve Harrington. The boy pulls the cup up to his lips, the same ones Robin hoped had never touched yours, and took a sip. She watched as Steve used his words to try to serenade you.

When she thought things couldn't get any worse, you smile at Steve and place a hand on his elbow for a moment. Robin couldn't take it anymore; the sight of her best friend and the girl she was in love with flirting with each other made her nauseous. She ran up to the top floor of the house, shoving bodies out of her way in the process. She walked into an empty bedroom without locking the door behind her. It just didn't come to mind.

Robin slid under the bed, struggling in the process. She silently begged for no bugs or rats to accompany her. She focused on the vibration of the bass from downstairs to try to calm herself down. She stared up at the wooden planks holding up the bed as she thought about every possible reason why you touched Steve's elbow. Her mind raced through scenario after scenario, none of them being the reality.

———

"So, Y/N, when are you gonna talk to Robin?" Steve asks, a curious smirk forming on his face.

"Tonight," You smiled, humoring Steve's temporary excitement. "If I can get the courage, that is."

Steve's face dropped the moment you finished that statement. He was, rightfully, tired of you making excuses to not keep your word about confessing. This was probably the fifth time you've told the boy your plans to pursue your dream (and hopefully destined) lesbian romance with Robin Buckley. It was tiring for him to hear both you and Robin gush about each other when you've never even talked. And, quite frankly, he almost felt guilty for being the one thing stopping you two lovebirds from getting together.

Who wouldn't? Hearing the words 'she definitely doesn't like me back though' over and over again from two oblivious requited lovers, who happened to be his best friends, was heartbreaking. It was like Steve knew you both needed a boost of non-liquid courage, which is what drove him to give you that boost verbally.

"I have a proposal, you gotta hear me out, though." Steve convinced.

"Go ahead?"

"How about you confess to Robin tonight?" The wingman watched as your mouth opened, but quickly finished his statement before you could speak. "Now, I know exactly what you're going to say. 'Steve, I can't, I'm too scared!'. My suggestion is that you go up to that bedroom up there, away from everyone else, and practice what you'll say to her."

Rehearsing how you'd confess to a girl was something you never thought you'd be doing. But, you appreciated the fact that Steve wasn't requiring you to confess to Robin, but he rather gave you a choice. It wasn't something he'd ever done before, so you told yourself you'd give it a try. Hell, all you had to do was practice. And the idea of getting out of such an overwhelming setting like the room you were in didn't sound too bad.

"Great idea, Harrington." You smiled, giving the boy a pat on his free elbow, the one that wasn't being used to slip from a plastic cup. "I'll see you back here soon."

With that, you ascended up the stairs of the Wheeler house. The amount of 'excuse me's you gave out on the way was probably the most you spoke that entire night. Once you reached the top of the stairs, you approached the first door you saw. You assumed that was the one Steve was referring to, but either way, it was a party — meaning the house was pretty much destined to be explored.

———

You pulled the door of the room towards out and locked it right after you entered. You walked right to the bed, where you sat down and stared at the wall in front of you while your mind generated some ideas of how you'll confess to Robin. An amount that seemed like thousands of words were placed into possible combinations for you to confess to your crush with.

Meanwhile, Robin was panicking under the mattress, where she laid half-awake. It's not like she could look to see who it was, since that'd be horribly creepy on her behalf. She tried listening to the unknown person's breathing pattern or any other sounds their body made, but she just couldn't tell. Not even the back of the glossy white flats she could see from her spot brought anyone to her mind. Suddenly, she was awaken by the sound of an inhale that wasn't her own.

"Okay. Hey, um, can I talk to you for a sec?" You asked, imagining that the wall in front of you was your beloved, Robin Buckley.

"Fuck, she doesn't know I'm under here, right?" Robin thought to herself, her heart racing out of her chest.

"Yeah, um, okay. I brought you up here to tell you something, um..."

"She can't be talking about me, then. Thank God."

"Robin, I, um, have a crush on you, and I have for months..."

"No way. Okay, I have to get out from under here."

Robin quietly wiggled herself from under your opposite side of the bed. She slowly moved herself into a squat to see who it was on the side across from her.

Her eyes widened as she started taking in the woman's features. Then, it quickly registered inside her mind who she was seeing. It was Y/N, the girl she considered the love of her life — even though they hadn't ever talked.

Without thinking, she ran to sit next to you on the bed. Shocked, you look over at her and have a similar recognition process to hers. The girl you were imagining the wall as was right next to you. You looked her up and down to make sure she wasn't a hallucination, or, somehow, Steve.

"Um, how did you get here?" You ask, a nervous laugh coming out with your statement.

"As creepy as it sounds — or, is, I guess — I was under the bed. I wanted an escape from the party, and I thought this bedroom was the easiest place to go." The wide-eyed girl stuttered, matching your post-statement nervous laughter.

"You heard what I said, right? Because I don't think I can get the courage to repeat myself."

"Yeah, um, I did." Robin pauses and looks at the ground. "Y/N, I... like you too."

"You do?"

"Yeah, I just couldn't figure out how, when, and where to tell you."

Robin was adorable when she was nervous. The ever so slight rasp in her voice combined with the shakiness made you want to just kiss her right then and there. But, it's way too early for that.

"Funny that you say that, actually, since Steve was actually the person who answered all of those for me. If it weren't for him, I wouldn't be up here practicing — or actually — confessing to you."

"Can I be fully honest with you?" Robin asks, continuing after your immediate 'mhm'. "Watching you talk to Steve made me so... jealous. I wanted you to talk to me like that. I wanted you to smile at me like that. I wanted you to see me how you see Steve."

Wow. Knowing that Robin was so in love with you that she got jealous of you talking to Steve made you feel powerful. That said, it also made you feel sad for putting Robin through that jealously without intending to do so. An idea to make her feel somewhat better popped into your newly-confident mind.

"As cheesy as it sounds, I can kiss you in a way I'd never kiss Steve, if you'd like that?" You smile.

"I'd love that."

You grab her chin and push your lips onto hers. The kiss you two shared was everything you'd ever dreamed of. The way your lips molded together perfectly, and the way your passion intertwined through this kiss made you confident of the fact that this romance was, in fact, one you dreamed of and what was destined for the two of you.

#robin buckley #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x y/n #robin buckley x you #robin buckley x reader fluff #robin buckley oneshot #robin buckley imagine #robin buckley fluff #skatetome #this took me three hours help

384 notes · View notes

skatetome · 2 years

Text

The Forgiving Kiss

Pairing: Tom!Peter Parker x Fem!Mysterio!Reader

Word Count: 919 words

Genre: Angst

Warnings: There are some borderline emotionally abusive thoughts of the reader described in this fic Author's Note: THIS IS SET POST-FFH BUT PRE-NWH, MEANING THERE ARE NO NWH SPOILERS IN THIS. this was so awkward to write.. i kept picturing reader as jake g*******l. such a painful experience. im so sorry this is literally the only idea that was on my mind. anyways enjoy!!

Spiderman swings down onto the sidewalk right in front of me, my back to the wall of the bar. I haven't thought about him in a while. I suppose I've simply been too busy with my life at the moment. Even after revealing his identity to the whole city of Queens, he barely crosses my mind. Though, I wouldn't be surprised if it was the opposite for him. He may have gotten his way but I stole it write back from him. He takes his mask off and looks into my eyes.

"Hey Peter," I state, a smug smirk growing on my face. "What brings you here? To me?"

"I just wanted to make sure you get home safe." Peter sighs, looking away from me as if eye contact between us was sinful.

"You're quite the gentleman, aren't you?"

Peter rolls his eyes. I notice the sarcastic grin that usually came onto his face when he rolled his eyes wasn't there. He's definitely changed — whether it's my own doing or not. He reaches his hand around my waist and pulls me towards his chest. Regardless of our eye contact status, our bodies were now familiarly in contact. The spandex of his suit and the silk of my dress coming together felt odd but comforting. Peter looks down at me for a confirming gaze, his sight following the shoot of his webshooter.

The stick of the web drags us across buildings. My cheek rests just below his collarbone as his left arm hugs me. There's nothing more exciting than the high from the tension between us. Knowing that I can ruin Peter's life as much as I want without his desperation fading is euphoric. He's like putty in my hands; something I can break as much as I want, mold to whatever shape I'd like, and keep as warm as I'd like. I can do anything I want to him and he'd accept it.

It's quite saddening to realize how often Peter sets himself up for a living hell. Perhaps it's self-sabotage. The thought that nothing can get any worse than it already has must cloud the blue sky in his head. It could also be the rush from it. Similar to how I get a rush from destroying everything I can of him, he may get a rush from doing the same to himself. The forbidden adrenaline produced at the sight of watching his soul crumble to pieces. Either way, it must be an addictive feeling, as he struggles to go a while without doing something to achieve it.

Peter eventually swings our collided bodies onto a rooftop of an unknown building. The night sky surrounding us only worsens the darkness of his sad aura. Our feet simultaneously place themselves on the concrete. Every ounce of confidence I had beforehand leaves my body. My eyes look up into his, a one-sided glance. We still haven't left our cuddle-like position that we were in while our feet gracefully patted the invisible roof over Queens. The hands of two who should be enemies eagerly grip each other's skin, begging that the droplets of sweat will act as an initiative for the real love they'll never have. Finally, Peter looks into my eyes and pulls me in for a kiss, his grasp moving to my jaw to savor every bit of saliva from my lips.

The kiss is needy. The desperation in his heart must've travelled through his body and into the skin of his lips. We pull each other as close as we can. The tension only increases as our desire to melt into each other strengthens. There's nothing either of us want more in this moment but contact. Though our eyes are closed, I can somehow see just how Peter looks right now. His eyebrows furrowed and his chest puffing with the oxygen I give him. His lips begging into mine. The moonlight reflecting off his sweat. All of the visions stop as soon as I feel him let go of me and back away.

I open my eyes and see Peter just a few inches from where he was previously standing. He stares into my eyes, studying every dot of black that makes up my pupils. I do the same to his. The only parts of ourselves that are in contact right now are our hearts. Each beat pumping more and more unconditional love for each other. Every blood cell carrying memories between us — from the future, from the past, or of this moment. The blood which flows through my veins strikes me with an urge to apologize. An urge to make it up to him. An urge to love Peter the way I was meant to.

"I know I messed up, I'm sorry Peter, I truly am." I whisper, the words stumbling out of my mouth without my control.

"I love you. It's okay. I forgive you." Peter replies, his voice at a higher pitch than usual, something I thought was never even possible.

There's a short pause between us. We're both too fearful to make the next move. A unknown solidarity in our expected solitude. The feeling of being so in love with someone that every flaw of theirs suddenly fades out of existence. Peter pulls my waist towards him using his webshooter, causing me to gasp at his sudden action. He smiles into my lips. We share a second kiss under the moonlight of Queens — as both Spiderman and Mysterio and Peter and Y/N.

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker x reader angst #peter parker oneshot #peter parker imagine #peter parker angst #tom!peter x reader #skatetome

59 notes · View notes

skatetome · 2 years

Text

One Kiss, Hundreds of Lights

Pairing: Andrew!Peter Parker x Reader

Word Count: 842 words

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None

Author's Note: THERE ARE NO NWH SPOILERS IN THIS. sorry it's short!! this kinda gets worse as it goes on. sorry :(, i don't really get that creative with fluff. anyways as usual reader is gender neutral as there are no pronouns used or anything. short author's note for once? anyways bye i hope you enjoy

A loud buzz sounds over the city. I watch behind the glass of my apartment window as every light, including my own, blinks to black. My room is now fully dark, except for the glisten of the fresh tear which falls down my cheek. I grind my teeth to the rhythm my mind provides, the movement so vigorous that it could regenerate the electricity of Queens if given the chance. My eyes quickly become a generating pond of tears, my cheeks pushing the water down like a fountain. I'm looking at the city underwater; my pupils swimming in my own sorrow.

I know my boyfriend well enough to know that he can handle any obstacle that he encounters. Perhaps his adolescence-induced testosterone acts as a shield to protect Peter through every Spiderman duty he partakes in. As odd as it may sound, I'm thankful for it. While keeping him safe, the hormone enhances Peter's aura, making him the loveable boy he is. There's nothing I want more in this world than to love Peter in his best form — physically and emotionally.

Though, ever since Electro came along, it's been harder to do so. Peter's been so busy ensuring the villain doesn't mess with the power grid he created the blueprints for. I barely get to see Peter, let alone his face, since he's constantly in his spandex Spiderman suit. I miss him more than anything, but I know that his eyelids cover his pride-filled dilated pupils before he goes to sleep each night. There's nothing he loved more than talking to me about which crime he stopped that day, or which old lady he saved, or what he did at Oscorp. Our recent mutual withdrawal prevents him from talking to me and sharing what he's worked the hardest for. Another tear falls from my eye.

I conclude my cry with a couple of fast blinks after hearing a familiar knocking sound on my window. I look down and see Peter in his Spiderman suit. He still has his mask on. I smile lightly at him and twist the lever of my window, squatting down to match his level in the process. He stares at me through his brown doe eyes, admiring my every twitch. I push the window open and he approaches me, removing the mask completely. His face is now completely revealed. He pulls me in for a kiss, which I happily accept.

"Hey, uhm, I don't have much time." Peter whispers, the bits of rasp in his voice causing me to widen my grin. "But, I was wondering if you wanted to come dance with me on the bridge? Just real quick."

"While you're fighting one of the most powerful villains ever and all of the power is out?" I ask, raising an eyebrow at his statement.

"Yes. You're my priority. Just come on, it'll be cute."

I roll my eyes as I make my way out of my apartment window. Peter backs away from the glass, cheekily smiling at me while I crawl out. My feet finally hit the metal of the fire escape balcony. I turn around and push my exit closed. I then look back up at Peter, that same admirative look glued to his face. I stand up, him following.

Peter puts his mask back on. He then hugs his arms around my waist and shoots out some web onto a building across. Soon enough, he's shooting string from building to building, transporting us across the dark borough of New York in minutes. We eventually reach the top of a bridge, which he lets go of me as our feet simultaneously make contact with the concrete.

"Do we really have to dance? There's no music or any-" I ask, quickly interrupted by a kiss-followed grunt.

A few moments of kissing pass before Peter finally pulls away. He looks into my eyes, his gaze shooting invisible paralyzing spiderwebs around my body. Not a single attempt is made to break the romantic silence, including our pupils and movements. We are completely still in the moment.

We pull each other back in to continue the kiss we just held. Our lips are practically molded for each other, each drop of our saliva combines perfectly. Our fingerprints planting themselves on each other's skin, leaving a mark of the moment forever. Maybe it wasn't Peter Parker's fingerprint, rather Spiderman's, but it still has the same effect on me. My love for them is the exact same.

We deepen the kiss. An even louder buzz then before sounds across the town. We both jump as we subconsciously turn our eyes to look at the city. The lights begin to turn on one by one. I look over at Peter, realizing that our faces have a mutual grin.

"Look at our impact!" Peter laughs through smile-curved eyes.

I laugh at his statement, pulling him in for a peck on his lips right after. Our arms wrapped around each other as we gaze over the city our kiss managed to fix, according to Peter.

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker x reader angst #peter parker oneshot #peter parker imagine #peter parker fluff #andrew!peter x reader #skatetome

69 notes · View notes

skatetome · 2 years

Text

Temperatures of Love

Pairing: Tom!Peter Parker x Reader

Word Count: 699

Genre: Angst

Warnings: Ch0king mention

Author's Note: THERE ARE NO NWH SPOILERS IN THIS. sorry this is very short :( i wasn't sure how to continue it. also this was supposed to be inspired by honeymoon ave by ariana grande but i didn't reference it at all in this.. i guess you could still listen to it while reading iyw? short read and long song though. one more thing, this could work for any peter parker but i was mainly picturing tom's while writing this. and again this doesn't have any pronouns or anything so it could be gender neutral. sorry if you read all of this note

My eyes are coated with grief infused teardrops as I approach the edge of the building's rooftop. Peter had just called a few minutes ago asking me to meet him here so he can talk to me. The moment I read his text, an unwanted realization that I will soon live through a long awaited experience popped up in my mind. Perhaps a shovel had begun to dig the grave of our relationship as the teardrops fall from my eyes watching Peter web onto the rooftop in his Spiderman suit. He quickly removes the suit and turns to face me, a frown painted on his face.

We exchange a long glance, both of us too fearful to take initiative. Such tension as the one which rests between us is not able to be broken down easily. A flush manifested by our shared feeling spreads across both of our faces, the heat burning our eyes and triggering our sprinklers of tear ducts. Our mouths are burnt shut like dried candle wax. The black tint of our pupils grows due to the high temperatures, the burn surrounding the circles that have seen it all. Not a single movement could surpass the climate the two of us temporary reside in.

Our simultaneous heat could cook and burn anything placed in it, including our own words. Peter's adrenaline-driven superhero persona seems to permeate into the outside world as my eyes make contact with his opened lips. I hear him inhale, the sound of the world seems muffled. I stare down at the body part as I wait for him to verbally break the barrier of invisible wax.

"We can't be together any more." Peter ch0kes, the temperature of his flush floating through his esophagus. "I'm sorry."

"I know, I'm sorry as well." I sigh, mirroring his wax-breaking action.

"It isn't your fault, all mine. I'm the one who can't handle my job and I projected that onto you and I'm sorry."

I nod as I feel my head go numb from the burn it undergoes. Acceptance of an awaited moment should never be this hard. I begin to sob. There's nothing more I want to feel than Peter's arms to wrap around me, though, I know he'd be burned as well if he went through with that. Why must such intense temperatures occur between us? Why must every movement and word burn us? There's a newly formed yet anticipated forbiddingness of expression in our love.

An urge to challenge the forbiddingness seems to freeze some of the flush on my face. Perhaps some of Peter's adrenaline was spread to me, the heat melting it to a liquid and diffusing it into the air which surrounds us. I occupy the hour-like seconds of silence with my contemplating thoughts. I use some of the hormone to back up my upcoming action. I reach my arms out towards Peter's shoulders, pulling him closer for a kiss. The body parts go numb — not from the burn of our sadness, but rather the fear caused chemical's coat which formed around my aura.

Peter whimpers as he accepts the kiss, our lips connecting, the melted wax colliding. Our numb hands grip on each other's skin as if it's a glass of ice cold water on a hot summer day. The kiss is desperate and daring. The entire world seems to stop as we perform the act of love. The heat goes down, our interacting saliva acting like a rainstorm. After a few moments, I pull away and look him in his scared yet dazed pair of brown doe eyes, the ones I know all too well.

"I shouldn't have done that." A panicked, sobbing Peter Parker whispers.

Peter walks away, disconnecting his hands from my body to replace his grip with his Spiderman suit. He places it over his clothes and puts the mask on last. He lays his arm out, web-slinging himself away from the rooftop. The post-kiss temperature pushes a shiver out of me, as well as tears that freeze to my cheek. A coat of ice forms over my eyes, causing the world to go blurry. The heat of Peter's sadness isn't here to melt it.

46 notes · View notes