Tumgik
#tasm!peter parker
moonstruckme · 2 days
Note
I went out with my friends yesterday cuz one of them threw a party and it was so much fun but omfg I'm so violently hung over can I pls get a fic with any of the boys and a hungover reader them just cuddling her but also being like I told u not to have that last drink....3 drinks ago
Thanks for requesting!
cw: mention of alcohol, hangover
tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 443 words
Peter wants so badly to be noisy and obnoxious, but he’s quiet because he loves you. 
“Hey, bub,” he says near a whisper, crawling up beside you on the bed. “I think it’s probably time to wake up, don’t you?” 
Despite his best efforts with the blinds, insistent threads of golden afternoon light sneak in through the cracks, and you turn your face into the pillow as you moan. 
“Aw, I know.” Peter’s unable to keep the laughter out of his voice, pulling down the covers to rub between your shoulder blades. “My poor girl. Who did this to you, huh?” 
Your reply is muffled by both pillow and lethargy. “Shuddup.” 
His laugh comes out for real now. You squirm away from the sound, trying fruitlessly to burrow deeper into your pillow as Peter drops a kiss on your shoulder, bare where his t-shirt has slipped off. 
“I’ve got lukewarm water and painkillers,” he says enticingly. “Breakfast of champions.” 
Your hand emerges from beneath the covers, reaching for them. 
“Uh, no.” Peter poorly contains another chuckle as he leans away from your searching hand. “You’ve got to sit up to have it, sorry.” 
It takes time and effort, Peter helping you with a hand on your back, and when your eyes meet his amusement makes some room for pity. 
“Here you go, baby.” He holds out the water and pills. You rub your eyes before taking them, little flakes of crusted-on makeup falling onto the sheets. “Drink it all,” he says when you stop after the sip it takes to down the painkillers. “You’re dehydrated, that’s why your head hurts.” 
Your mouth puckers distastefully. “I’ll throw up,” you worry. 
“Small sips,” Peter agrees, kissing your shoulder rewardingly when you take another. You’re looking at him now, too, eyes watchful and expression stiff with some kind of indecision. “What is it?” 
You hesitate a second longer before asking, “Can we hug?” 
“Aw-w-w.” It stutters out of him on a laugh, and your face goes pouty as Peter slides his hands around your middle, hugging you sideways and resting his head atop yours. “Course we can, baby. You’re really feeling shitty, huh?” 
You make a pitiful sound, leaning into his touch. 
“Wishing you’d stopped after that fourth drink like I told you to?” 
Now your whine has more bite to it. Peter holds you tighter so you won’t leave, smiling as he kisses your hair. 
“That’s okay, my silly girl. Lucky you’ve got the world’s most forgiving boyfriend to take care of you, huh?” 
“It’d be nice,” you mutter, “if he were the world’s least gloat-y boyfriend too.” 
“Well, we can’t have it all, sweetheart.”
215 notes · View notes
spiderfunkz · 2 days
Text
✧ NOT A LOT, JUST FOREVER.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
summary : you create a memory that peter will remember forever.
word count : 0,5k
contains : tooth-rotting fluff, established relationship, reader and peter go stargazing.
a/n : inspired by my number #1 favorite movie ever which is 'eternal sunshine of the spotless mind' !!! i love this scene with all my heart and i thought it'd be cute to make a blurb inspired by it 💕
Tumblr media
the snow fell harsh.
peter never liked the cold. his sweaters were always too thin, or too thick, maybe too itchy and a little silly. he either loses one of his mittens or finds them ruined and dirty. and he never wore his beanie because he never wants to ruin his best quality— his hair.
you've always liked the cold. your sweaters were warm and hand knitted by one of your family members, your mittens fit perfectly in pairs, and you have an entire collection of beanies for every day of the week, decorated with pins and colorful clips.
there is also a reason why you liked the cold.
the hidden lake you've been going to since you were little freezes up. it's thick enough for you to walk on but slippery enough for you to fall.
you've gone ice skating there, made snowmen there, lost your boots there, and fell in there once, maybe twice. but you've never hated it. falling in cold ice gets you hot cocoa at the end! and a big headache.. and a sneezy nose..
but other than that you've loved it.
and you are so excited to share all of that with peter. even the headaches and sneezy noses.
"come on!"
you smile, peter holds your hand tightly as he steps on the ice for the first time. "it's very solid this time of year, don't worry."
"i'm not so sure about that." he's clinging to your arm, "come on, come on." you gesture.
"oh wow. i could see the city lights from here." peter grins, "pretty right?" you ask.
"very."
you don't notice peter's loving doe-eyes looking smiling at you and instead, you run into the middle of the lake before slipping.
"ow!"
"jeez, are you okay?" peter runs to you.
"you okay?" — "yeah i'm okay." you brush of the snow from your coat. "come on, now!" you gesture getting closer to the middle.
"i use to skate here sometimes. oh, we should do that sometimes!"
"i think i might cause the ice to crumble. and end up in 50 or so bruises." peter giggles, "i can teach you."
you give peter a smile before laying down on the ice, patting on the space beside you, gesturing for peter to follow along.
peter hesitates for a moment before following, "i think i heard a crack," he shook his head.
"it's not gonna break! or crack- it's so thick."
the stars shine above you. twinkling and glowing.
"show me which constellations you know."
"oh, i don't know any.." peter shrugs shyly, "yes you do! you took astronomy once!"
peter smiles, he pauses for a moment. "that's osidius," he points.
"where?" — "right there, see?" his cheek touched your cheek as he inched closer. "it's sort of a swoop and a cross. osidius the emphatic."
you smile and laugh.
"ooh look, that's us." peter points, "where?" you squint. peter takes your hand and slowly points in the direction of two stars.
"me, and you. you're the brighter one." peter says. "i'm the brighter one?" — "mhm, my bright, pretty, star."
Tumblr media
88 notes · View notes
Note
sunlight ☀️
hii it’s me againn. could you also do tasm peter who is nerdy and nerdy reader? and it’s kind of like a meet cute at the library? that’s literally my dream 😔 (you can tell i’m in my spiderman kick again)
-🎀
love a good spiderman kick ☺️ hope you like it!
pairing: TASM!Peter Parker x reader word count: 1.4k tags: just fluff
The exam was next week, and Peter still hadn’t gotten a chance to so much as glance at the most helpful textbook. The only copy the library carried had been way over due for ages, and the damn things were way too expensive to buy. He hoped it would be back by today because the late fees would be so much worse after today’s cut off. So, into the library he strode to look for it for what felt like the millionth time. 
He was sure the librarian remembered him, and which book he was after, after so many attempts, so he went straight up to the desk. Peter raised his eyebrows in question, in hope. He wrung his hands together as the librarian gave him a look he couldn’t quite decipher. “So?” he finally couldn’t help.
“You just missed it,” the librarian deadpanned. How could she be so damn calm? She must know his life depended on getting his hands on this book! Well, maybe not his life, but definitely his grade… important enough.
“What?! And you didn’t hold it for me or something?” “Hold it for you? What do you think this is, kid? We don’t take reservations.”
After a moment, though, she sighed in slight defeat, something akin to pity entering her hardened features. She gave a sideways nod toward the person standing at the other end of the desk. 
“Maybe she’ll share,” she whispered. 
Peter followed her look. His eyes landed on a girl. She looked mortified. Given the books lying next to her open backpack on the desk, she’d clearly been packing them up. At the top of the pile lay the coveted textbook. And she’d clearly overheard his whole exchange with the librarian. 
You lock your gaze onto the books in front of you. You could feel your cheeks warming, and the last thing you wanted was to accidentally make eye contact with this stranger. This ridiculously attractive stranger you’d noticed in class before… Peter Parker… who had clearly had the same idea about the book being returned today…
You feel terrible at having snatched it up just before him. You hadn’t known someone else was after it, too, but you could’ve guessed, and it felt like pure luck that you got it first. You have no idea how to react, and before you can come up with any idea at all, you sense him stepping toward you and freeze in panic.
“Um, hey,” Peter whisper-says. God, why didn’t he just speak at a normal volume? He was in the library, sure, but just the entrance. He’s sure he sounded weird, and that’s the last thing he wanted after his little outburst clearly made you uncomfortable. It wasn’t your fault you’d gotten the book before him. 
Your eyes dart up to meet his at his words, and when they do, his nerves increase tenfold. Your eyes are so damn pretty. All of you is. And you look half way to an anxiety attack at his approach. “Hey, sorry,” he tries. “Sorry, I know we don’t know each other, but I just… Um, well… Sorry about that,” he ends lamely, gesturing back to where his exchange with the librarian just occurred. “It’s okay,” you whisper, smiling awkwardly and tucking your hair behind your ears. You look back down at your hands, pulling at the too-long sleeves of your shirt. 
Peter’s hand comes up to his head, messing with his hair in a typical nervous tick. He can’t stop staring at you, and you can’t stop avoiding his stare. He had to say something else before the mounting awkwardness blew up. Why couldn’t he think of anything? God, why was his heart racing faster than it ever did when he had to fight giant, scary monsters? Somehow you were scarier. 
“Um,” he starts again. “You in, uh, you in Vidal’s biology class?” he ventures, guessing you need the book to study for the same exam as he. It blows his mind he hasn’t noticed you before if you are.
“Mmhmm,” you nod softly.
“Me too,” he says and cringes. “I don’t recognize you.” “Oh, I don’t know. I tend to sit in the back.” You finally look up at him as you say this. Your eyes meet, and it’s too much to handle. After what feels like an eternal instant, you both look away chuckling. 
Peter’s just nodding like an idiot, chewing his bottom lip, reeling for something else to say but failing miserably. At this point, the thought of getting the book has totally vanished from his mind. The fear of failing next week has been completely replaced with the fear of failing right now.  The idea of your walking away and his not getting to talk to you again makes his stomach sink.
You’re just staring at your hands, unsure what you’re supposed to do in this kind of situation. How do people just know what they’re supposed to do when other people are involved? 
You still feel really bad that you got the book first, and you figure he’s only still talking to you to ask when you’ll be done with it. The exam is so soon, you hadn’t really been planning to return it till after. But keeping it to yourself when he needed it too made your stomach twist. You didn’t even know him, but you wanted to help him. So, you mustered the courage to do something you know, from experience, you otherwise wouldn’t do.
You say softly, “If you want… um, I don’t know… maybe, we could share it?”
“What?” he responds, too quickly, confused, his voice nervously airy.
You’re not sure if he didn’t hear what you said — possible with how softly you’re speaking — or didn’t understand what you meant, so you don’t know what to say. Words are too hard, so you just grab the book — your hands grateful for something to do — and hold it up to him like an offering. 
“Oh!” he hiccups. Then, “Oh,” he says more quietly, chuckling lightly. “I mean, I don’t want to bother you. You got it first fair and square.” “Yeah,” you shrug. “But you need it, too, right?” 
“Yeah…” His mind begins stirring up images of the two of you studying together… maybe laughing together eventually… sitting closer together to both get a good look at the book… 
It’s making his heart beat faster, and he realizes he’d be an idiot to not seize the opportunity. It’s the perfect excuse to spend more time with you, and he doesn’t even have to ask you out. Yet. 
So, he quickly says, “Yeah, um, sharing would be great. If you don’t mind. I can just meet up with you whenever you were going to study anyway… Wherever is good for you; I don’t mind; you choose; whatever you prefer is good with me —” Having started, he can’t stop talking now, his nerves morphing into words, eager to leave his body. 
You giggle at his garrulousness, and he knows he’s in trouble when the sound of it makes his breath hitch. 
“Well,” you say. “I was planning to get started now… you know, since I’d been waiting to get my hands on the book. If you wanted to, um, maybe go to the café maybe?” 
You hadn’t in fact been planning to start right away. If you were honest with yourself, you’d been planning to put it off till you couldn’t not… like you always did no matter how hard you tried to get an early start. Note to self: the only cure you’ve found to procrastination so far: ridiculously pretty boys with warm eyes and a voice you could listen to forever. 
“Yeah, that’d be great. That’d be great,” he nods, smiling. It’s the first time you’ve seen him fully smile. You’d be happy to just hand him the book as long as you could watch him study, the exam be damned. 
“Great,” you repeat, grabbing your things and turning toward the café. Your eyes widen in panicked disbelief at what just happened. You glance slightly back just to make sure you hadn’t imagined it, and sure enough: Peter Parker is taking a quick step to follow you. He falls in step with you as you walk, and it’s terrifying and invigorating just how much you like the feeling of him close beside you.
71 notes · View notes
sadembryhours · 2 days
Note
can please you write about an autistic readerx Peter Parker or Gilbert Blythe? (if you could do romantic that’s would be nice but you do whatever you want✨) I think they would be PERFECT for this!!! Thank you! ❤️❤️❤️
burning candles! ♥︎ tasm!peter parker
synopsis : autistic!reader waits for peter to find someone better. [that time never comes]
cw ; comfort , not all autistic people are the same, this is just how it is for me! , lowercase intended , [name] used in place of y/n
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
if you have a blank blog [no bio, no user, no header or profile pic, nothing reblogged, etc] do not interact with my content. you will be blocked.
there’s a puzzle in front of you, half-done as the steaming mug beside you warms the air. there are headphones on your ears, playing the video you’d been thinking about all day.
placing the last blue-colored piece, you take a small break to stretch your limbs. after looking at the full size picture, you decide yellow will be the chosen color next. you blink, eyes tired and back aching but your mind refusing to let you rest until the puzzle is done.
a small, hesitant tap hits your left shoulder. you jump slightly, head turning slowly to see beat up converse falling off of mismatched socks. you sigh, “hi, peter.”
“hey, lovey.” he smiles — you can’t see it with your back to him, but you can hear the grin he holds. a soft brush to your back before he sits on the chair behind you. “wanna join me up here for a bit?”
you do, placing your headphones on the table and grabbing your drink. you allow peter to grab you, maneuvering your body until you’re sideways on his lap. he sighs happily, “missed you today.”
you smile, eyes still on your favorite mug. “missed you, too. your cologne smells nice.”
“it’s new!” peter grins again. his nose hits your temple, lips popping onto your cheekbone, trailing down to your cheek slowly. “glad you like it. thought you would.”
the room grows quiet as peter scrolls through his phone, his left hand rubbing your back. you take a peek at his feed, dimming a bit at how fun it looked. pool parties ; clubbing ; long drives that lead to a road trip — you felt like you made him miss out on it all.
“will you get bored of me?”
peter pauses, his thumb hovering over his phone. you stiffen, nails grinding against the ceramic in your hands. “why would you ask that?”
you shrug and try to divert him — try to change the subject. it’s too late, though, as peter sets his phone down and focuses on you. “[name]. why would i get bored of you?”
“im not very fun,” you admit. you glance at him fleetingly, seeing how sincere and warm his eyes were. “i stay in and do boring things like puzzles. you might want to do more and i won’t let you.”
“you don’t force me here against my will.” peter’s tone is aghast — offended almost as he speaks. his hold tightens momentarily as he scoots you closer. “i like watching you do things you enjoy. even if you think they’re boring.”
your gaze falls again as you adjust his phone to sit the way you want it to. your fingers curl at the habit, pulling your hand away from it slowly. “even when i do things like that?”
“yeah,” he lets out a breathy laugh. “it makes you feel better. that’s all i care about — your comfort.”
your eyebrows furrow, nose scrunching. “that’s weird. you should care for yourself more.”
peter laughs again, his nose poking your temple as he kisses the side of your ear. “that’s what you’re for, hm?”
——♥︎——
you didn’t specify which peter this was for, so i hope this is okay ♥︎ thank you for your request!!
sadembryhours © do not copy, plagiarize, repost, or translate my content on any platform. if you see my content under any other name than my own, let me know.
31 notes · View notes
ohcaptains · 2 months
Text
𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟.
Tumblr media
college! peter parker x fem reader.
18+ only !!! f! receiving oral sex. peter parker has an oral fixation i said what i said. in my spider-man era again.
peter was a weekly visitor at this point. sometimes, it was twice, but never more than three. three was pushing it.
Three said that Peter meant something to you, and you couldn’t have that. No, whatever this was between the pair of you was strictly transactional. It was Peter texting you late at night, the classic, you up? Gracing your screen, and every time, you would pretend to be annoyed.
As if Peter coming around to give you the greatest head of your life was an inconvenience. Tempted, the devil on your shoulder smirking, to type back, Jesus, again? but never doing it. Instead, you wrote: sure.
Still, it plagued your mind. He never asked for anything else.
It was as if he did this purely for himself.
“Oh fuck,” you mewled, clenching down tight. The hand that was wrapped around Peter’s brown curls clutched and tugged, and the unconscious movement earned you a chastised groan. It rumbled through your cunt, and the echo shot to your clit, making you close your eyes and lean back, wet mouth spilling his name into your dorm.
Peter liked hearing you.
Liked seeing you lose your mind with his head between your thighs, your pussy wet and throbbing from his mouth and fingers. It’s why he came around often. Sometimes, he wouldn’t even text, would just knock on your door -- looking sheepish from under his dark curls -- and just. Not. Say. Anything.
His silence was answer enough. You knew what he wanted. Or, needed, as you later figured out, as you saw how red he’d gotten when you told him he couldn’t come around for a bit. When you said something about focusing on exams, he’d come over anyway, whined, shuffled his feet and said, You can do your work, I just gotta…I’ll be quick.
The lack of explanation made your mind swirl. But regardless, you’d let him in and did your work with his head between your thighs. He’d tutored you, too, told you how to solve for x with his fingers inside of you. He’d said, if you let me make you come again, I’ll do your Maths work for the next week. After he’d left, you stared at the scene of the crime in pure silence.
Just…reflecting.
Peter fluttered his tongue over your swollen clit. Focused on swirling it around his tongue in sloppy, wet circles, and the thick desire that swelled between your thighs began to pool at your lower back, forcing you to arch up into it.
“Please,” you wept, even though he was giving you what you wanted. Flat on your back with his deft grip keeping your bare thighs open. It was 8 pm. He’d caught you just after your shower, so the smell of your shampoo and body wash wafted through the air – Lavender and pear.
Peter had spread you open and said you smelled like spring. You’d been far too turned on to comment on it. He grumbled into your cunt, and you managed to work out the word, more? You hummed, too drunk on him and wound tight to verbalise that yes, you wanted more. Wanted him to make you come, and come again, till all you could do was mumble his name and focus on your breathing.
He'd learnt how you liked it. Paid attention, and he was getting full scores as he pushed his tongue flat against your swollen clit and sucked. Your vision went white.
“Oh fuck – ohfuck, Peter—” you squirmed, but Peter was strong, and he held you to the bed with his vice-like grip, wordlessly saying take it take it take it.
He lapped at you, salvia drooling over your cunt and down his chin, soaking the sheets. He was always so careless. In moments like this, that nervous edge that always fluttered around him was gone, replaced by a visceral drive to either please you, or get what he wanted.
The two bled into each other.
His tempo was leisurely, but that didn’t stop the heat from washing over you all at once.
You clamped your thighs around his ears and moaned -- loud, so loud that you were sure the other students on your floor heard.
Still, the ache was erratic, “So good,” you sobbed, and you heard yourself, heard the near primal need in your voice, and the desperation made you embarrassed, made you cover your mouth with your palm and grip the sheets, willing yourself to cool it. 
“Move your hand, or I’ll stop,” he uttered against you, and your clit was so sore that the echo of his words made your eyes roll back. Peter must have seen, as he hummed a laugh, and kissed your inner thigh, “lemme hear you.”
Managing to gain some sense of sanity, you blearily blinked down at him, but all sense of stability you thought you had was wiped away when you saw Peter had his hand stuffed down his pants.
You dropped back onto the bed and sobbed.
You knew he got off on this, but Jesus Christ, you’d never seen that before.
“Gotta be kidding me,” you breathed, and Peter must have understood what you were referencing, as he buried his reddening face into your inner thigh. He let out a breathy chuckle, “’ M’sorry,” he mumbled, “usually I wait till I get home, but you’re just so hot.”
You had to stay completely still, or you’d burst. Usually, I wait till I get home?
Peter moved his face and began nuzzling the wet folds of your pussy. He bumped his nose against your clit, and you quietly choked.
Peter hummed, “couldn’t help myself.”
You figured he did something like that, but the admission made your thighs tense. You pictured him stumbling home – cheeks still wet with you – and tugging his pants down, quickly shoving his hands into his boxers and taking hold of his aching cock. Did he whimper when he came? Or was he silent, all tremors and low grunts? No. He definitely whimpered.
He was far too pretty to stay quiet.
The sudden desire to kiss him swept over you.
Reaching down, you tugged at his curls, wordlessly motioning him to move. When he did, you briefly saw the red of his cheeks and wet of his nose before you kissed him, all tongue, and tasted yourself on his pink lips.
Peter melted into you. Huffed your name like a sigh, and the sheer tenderness of it had you wrapping your legs around his back and pressing your bare cunt against his jeans.
He was rock-hard. Tentatively, you ran your nails over his chest, and dipped low, pressing between his thighs, cupping his bulge, and gently squeezing. Peter wept.
“Oh fuck,” he sobbed, as desperate as you imagined. With one hand in his hair and the other on his cock, you continued to kiss him, until the ache between your thighs became too much to bear.
“Make me come,” you whispered, “and I’ll put you in my mouth.”
Peter had never moved so fast in his life.
3K notes · View notes
luveline · 6 months
Note
hiiii jade!!!! could i please request something with peter with reader who’s maybe put on some weight recently and is insecure about it?? (totally not self indulgent at all) i totally get it if you’re not comfortable writing that stuff though so no pressure
hi lovely! ty for requesting. fem, 1k
cw for negative weight talk/ weight gain
Everybody gains weight during the holidays, you think, tracing your figure in the mirror. Though it's not strictly holiday season yet, it's edging toward the end of the year. Maybe my new year's resolution should be losing a few pounds. 
There's a thunk of the bedroom window being yanked open and footsteps across the floor. You tense until your hear Peter panting for breath, likely having swung to you at high speed, or fresh from a fight with an usurped criminal. 
You rush back into your t-shirt, knowing exactly what path he'll walk. He barrels into the bathroom, sees you at the mirror and smiles so wide his cheeks look fit to burst. "Hey," he says, peeling the suit off and exposing his boxers to you without shame, "hey hey hey. Can I persuade you in with me?" He nods toward the shower. 
"Not this time, Pete." 
"Too bad," he laments. 
You look away as he strips out of his underwear. The shower turns on and he takes you by the hips to move you out of his way with a murmured apology, near lost to the drum of the spray. Peter has moments where he doesn't know his own strength, but the majority of the time he treats you like you're something precious. 
"Stay in here!" he demands as he pulls the curtain shut. 
"I'm not going anywhere." You close the toilet and sit on the lid. "Tough day protecting the people?" 
"Apart from tripping into a deceptively large pothole, it was fine. Why won't you come in here with me? I wanna rub your shoulders." 
"You want me to wash your hair." 
"Exactly. So get naked and get in here. Don't make me beg." 
You really don't want to, and you're not going to, but it's not a big problem. Peter doesn't truly mind, he just loves you. "What do you mean, deceptively big? Like, knee height? Higher?" 
"Mid thigh, I'd say. The people of New York are never gonna let me live it down. One guy was recording me and said he was gonna put it on YouTube for the ad money." 
"Anything else?" 
He gives you the rundown, describing what perps he faced and an older man he helped use an ATM machine. You hum distractedly, pinching at the fat where it spreads on your thigh, sitting down as you are. 
He sticks his face through the curtain gap, hair slicked to his cheeks. "What're you doing?" 
"You told me to stay, so I'm staying." 
He's nervous for a split second, glancing back into the shower as though there's an answer there waiting for him before angling himself toward you fully, his naked chest dripping and shining in the bathroom light. "Okay, fine, we need to talk about something. But I want you to know that you forced my hand here. Okay?" 
"Okay." You nibble the inside of your lip, used to his theatrics. "What have I done?" 
"It's not something you've done. It's something you are. I can't even say it. I," —he pulls the curtain in front of his face, moves it aside again– "just need to tell you. Lately it's like you don't even realise how beautiful you are and I'm tired of it. You're radiant. Like, glowing." 
Your recent internal debate must show on your face, that doubt, because he gives you a steadying smile. "Really, really beautiful," he says more seriously.
It's easy to smile at him. "Thank you, Pete." You scoop his suit off of the floor. "I'll go scrub the tetanus out of this in the kitchen sink." 
"Wait–" 
He can't just get out with suds in his hair, giving you the perfect escape plan. You have ten minutes to yourself filling the sink with soapy water and steeping the fabric before he's out of the bedroom in pyjamas, trousers tucked into his socks and hair damp from ferocious towel scrubbing. "You're such a– such a– thing," he decides. "I'm telling you you're beautiful and you walk off so you don't have to hear it? What's wrong with you?" His voice slips into a kinder register. "You do know you're pretty, right? I'm not just saying it to say it." 
"I'm just feeling icky," you confide. 
"About what?" 
You want to tell him, you find. "You know how I've gained weight?" 
He doesn't need any more explanation. Peter knows you've gained weight, you've mentioned it to him, and it's visual, and he can likely tell whenever he decides to flex his strength. "What, and you think that makes you less pretty?" He puts a damp hand behind your neck to bring you forward. "Seriously?"
"Yeah, a little." 
He kisses you. His nose bumps your nose, his lips crushed to your as he holds you in place. Despite this, it isn't an overly rough connection. It's definitely not shy. "You're beautiful," he says in the space between your lips. 
"It doesn't suit me–" 
"It does. It really fucking suits you. Have you seen yourself? You couldn't look better." 
"Even when I was thinner?" 
"You look just as perfect then as you did now." His intensity fades and he encourages you back enough to see your face, his thumb rubbing a short line into your neck. His brows are furrowed, dark eyes darker for it. "Weight isn't a factor." 
"No, but you have to say that." 
"I don't. Not really. I'm sure there are a thousand shitty guys who'd tell you something different, but I'm not– I love you, the whole you. I like you like this." He grins. "Which should be obvious." 
You tsk at him, to his delight, his laughter boyish as he buries his face in your neck with a hug, kissing a messy circle up and into the soft line of your jaw. You trap him there without thinking, chin hooked down, squirming as he blows hot air into your skin. 
"I've been putting it on too," he says. "It's happy weight." 
"It's not happy weight for you, Pete, it's just more muscle." 
"It makes you happy, doesn't it?" he jokes, smiling and kissing and hugging you all at once. "Just like it does on you for me."
3K notes · View notes
parkerpeter24 · 4 months
Text
quiet temptations
pairing ➳ tasm!peter parker x fem!reader
word count ➳ 2.3k
warnings ➳ SMUT. characters are 18+ and MINORS DNI. this contains depictions of fingering, oral (m recieving). fluff, peter being sweet but also horny-
summary ➳ you’re awfully quiet but peter can’t seem to take that.
Tumblr media
“is everything alright?” peter mumbled as he laid beside you. your back was to him, his arm wrapped around you, “you’re not talking.”
the bed you were laying on was warm, a thin blanket over the sheets because you got extra cold during the winters and a quilt that covered you and peter both. your fingers danced against the wall adjacent to the bed, feeling the cold plaster contrasting peter’s own fingertips that danced on your waist, under your sweatshirt.
“you gonna talk?” he placed a kiss on your hair that was loosely tucked behind your ear, making it fall over your eyes. chuckling when he heard you groan and push the lock of hair back in its original place, “so.. no?”
you sighed softly.
“that’s alright.” peter responded, feeling as if he was just talking to himself now, “we don’t need to talk if you don’t want to.”
the sound of your hum was accompanied by peter’s hand gliding under your sweatshirt and caressing your stomach. he was careful, as if you were made up of glass, watching out for any signs of refusal on your face but your features looked solemn, unchanging.
he sighed, not being able to hold in his concern, “alright, just nod if everything is okay…”
he waited for you and surely you did nod after a few seconds, making peter’s worries dissipate.
“what’s gotten you so quiet?” he tried to get you to talk, his fingers taking a detour from trailing upwards, making contact with the elastic hem of your sweatpants– which originally belonged to him, “‘cause one way or another, i’m gonna hear that pretty voice.”
you felt your face heat up but peter still didn’t notice any change in your expression. if he couldn’t see the blinking of your eyes and sense changing breathing pattern, he’d have assumed you were asleep.
“at least tell me you want this.” he mumbled into your neck, pressing his lips against your exposed skin.
“yeah.” you mumbled and peter wasted no time in sliding his hand under the fabric of your lower, arm holding your body against him. you let out a soft breath as his fingers travelled lower. his middle finger slid your panties to the side before making contact with the skin. he pressed soft kisses to your neck before his nimble finger delved into your folds.
a leg pressed between both of yours, parting your thighs as he nestled a warm hand against your sex.
you let out a soft sound, clutching onto the quilt. his finger sank deeper until he found the earliest bit of your arousal and pulled it out, wanting to spread the wetness everywhere.
his finger travelled up to your clit, circling around it and you bit your lip when he fucked it back into you, knuckle deep. he groaned softly, loving the way your muscles almost clenched his finger.
he repeated his actions a few more times until you couldn’t hold back the soft needy moans that he beyond waited to hear. you felt his teeth sink into the skin of your neck before he sucked that spot, soothing the sting from the bite.
you moaned when he curled his finger, trying to search for a spot that would make your sounds louder. his finger dipped into you inch by inch every time, showing he was in no hurry.
peter’s arm was strongly keeping you pressed against himself as you started to arch your back. he could tell you were getting needy but he wished to hear something from you– even though he was loving the musical moans you were letting out.
he pressed his ring finger into the mix, adding it when he pumped them into you the next time. his face pressed further into your hair when you tried to get away. he could tell you needed more– you were writhing, trying to grind your hips into his already hard cock– but he kept going at the slowest pace he could. one brush of his fingers against your most intimate spot and your lips parted in a loud gasp.
you tried to arch your back which only led to peter’s arm pressing harder against your abdomen. his lips were pressed together, letting out soft hums which accompanied each one of your moans as if encouraging you.
he pulled out both his fingers, fucking in again and then back out and in again until it became a faster rhythm. squelching sounds filled the mostly silent room as his leg parted yours even further.
peter rolled his fingers into you continuously, the heel of his palm nudging against your clit which had your eyes rolling to the back of your head, “pete-” you gasped, “m-more.”
the desperation in your voice made peter grind into your ass. his fingers fucked you faster, holding your legs apart, curling them into you just right until you were jutting your hips, chasing your high.
“good girl.” peter mumbled, “keep it up, baby.”
his fingers moved continuously in and out of you. he could tell you were close with the way you clenched his fingers, however before the coil in your abdomen burst, his fingers pulled out of you, a soft wet sound following it– completely opposite to the loud whine that left your mouth.
“oh my god- why’d you stop?!”
“now you wanna talk?” he mumbled into your hair.
you felt your cheeks heating up further than they were. you hid your face into the pillow, but peter wasn’t letting that happen. he tugged at your chin with his free hand, “oh, baby. trust me, i want you to cum.”
you whined, biting your lip softly at his dirty words. you wondered if peter came prepared for this because no other day would you have expected such filthy words escaping his lips. he’d never done so before in all the times you two were intimate.
he turned you around gently, slowly pressing his forehead against yours as he brought up his fingers to his own lips, sucking them clean. he moaned at the taste as his tongue swirled around the digits, sending a wave of shivers up your spine and arousal to your core.
the second his fingers were released from between his soft, warm lips, your own pair replaced them, tasting remnants of yourself on his lips. you moaned softly, pressing your chest up against his.
“want you.” you breathed out heavily.
peter only shook his head, “not until you tell me what’s with the silence.”
“huh-” your brows pulled together in confusion, “you’re really not gonna-”
“first you tell me what happened.” he pecked your lips once, twice, and a few more times.
you sighed, pursing your lips as you tried to formulate what to say to him– or rather how.
when peter saw you struggle, opening your mouth and then closing it, he brushed a thumb against your cheek, “it’s okay, you should take your time.”
you nodded, feeling the warmth of his hand transfer to your cheek as your eyes met. his chocolate brown eyes swam with what you could identify as pure adoration.
“until then…” he mumbled, leaning in to kiss you.
soft at first, it escalated when he brushed his tongue past your lips, quickly finding yours in a slow yet passionate dance. peter pressed you against the mattress, handling the covers to stay over your bodies.
he wasted no time in moving his lips to your neck, hands going to hold your thighs apart as his thumb now brushed against your clothed thigh, kneading gently as his teeth nipped at your collarbone.
you gasped softly, letting him do as he pleased with you. as you held the back of his head with one hand, the soft, brunette sea of hair engulfed your fingers.
peter moved his hands to the hem of your sweatshirt, wasting no time in sliding it up past your chest, careful enough that you weren’t exposed to the coldness of the room. he dived under the quilt, wrapping his lips around one of your nipples, the other being knead in the palm of his fingers.
you gasped as peter’s tongue flicked the bundle of nerves, your stomach flush against his torso.
you could feel his lips curl into a smirk before he switched, rolling your sensitive left nipple between his slender fingers as he licked and pulled the right one in his mouth.
you were getting fidgety, squirming under peter as he felt your grip tighten on his locks, not enough to hurt. he moaned against your skin, placing a few kisses right under your breast, moving lower, now seeming in a hurry.
“pete-” you almost pleaded, finding your voice breathy.
his hands travelled under the pair of sweatpants, making quick work of sliding them down as he traced your thighs, down to your knees before you felt the material slide off you.
you lifted the quilt slightly, just wanting to get a glimpse of peter. the few rays of light that touched him weren’t fast enough to warn you as his lips pressed to the wet patch over your panties. you gasped and threw your head back.
you felt peter’s hot breath and the muffled sound of his moan from under the blanket. he pushed your thighs apart, diving deeper as his nose pressed against your clit, the fabric thick enough to make you grit your teeth, wanting his lips and tongue on you.
maybe peter heard the clenching of your teeth or the way that your hand found home in the tufts of his hair again but he was eagerly pushing down the material past your legs throwing it down to the floor.
you felt peter’s forearms lift your thighs as he shuffled closer to your core, licking up a bold stripe across your folds. your back arched but peter’s grip was keeping you against him.
for a moment you heard him groan as he retracted, “what’s wrong?” you breathed out, supporting yourself up on your elbows.
you almost laughed when his hand creeped out from under the quilt, holding his fogged up glasses out for you to take. with a chuckle, you held the frame between your fingers, quickly placing them to the bedside table.
as you laid your back against the bed, peter was quick to wrap his lips around your clit. you let out a moan as he licked and sucked on the bundle of nerves.
he held onto your thighs, keeping you firm against his lips as he explored the very intimate part of you. his tongue darted out, poking at your entrance, but not giving you enough time to notice that as he slid the muscle deeper against your walls.
you moaned, pressing a hand over your mouth to muffle the lewdest sound you’ve ever made. the bridge of his nose poked against your clit and peter only pressed deeper as his tongue delved in and out of you. it seemed as if he would see no tomorrow if he stopped making out with your dripping hole.
you arched your back, “pete- oh god-”
you felt him hum against you, sending your jaw drop open as you finally felt the pleasure crash all over your body. your toes curled and eyes rolled to the back of your head. you could swear this was the hardest you’d ever come before as goosebumps covered your arms.
you let out a sigh as peter helped you ride out your high, keeping up his ministrations. finally stopping, he placed a soft kiss over your clit, sending your body flinching at the action.
when peter climbed out from under the blanket, surely he looked like he needed to clean up. his chin dripping with your arousal and forehead all sweaty from being so long under the warm quilt.
“you need to wash your face.” you chuckled, brushing back a few locks of hair that were sticking to his forehead.
“and you need to tell me what’s wrong.” he mumbled and you sat up, adjusting your sweatshirt back down.
“it’s nothing-”
“and don’t you dare say it’s nothing.” he sat up as well, beside you, wiping mouth with the sleeve of his shirt– that thing was going in the washing machine the second this conversation was over.
“it’s… just… exams and stuff. you know how anxious i get.” you sighed.
“i know… but you don’t have to! there’s still a week left before-”
“okay, that may seem like a long time but trust me, it’s not.” you looked up at him, meeting the brown eyes that held concern, “i’m sorry, i… i was just overwhelmed. didn’t feel like talking.” you almost pouted, making peter pull you against his chest as he hugged you. you in turn wrapped your arms around his waist.
“trust me, i know how stressful exams can be. but it’s nothing you haven’t been through before.” he placed a soft kiss against your hair, making you hug him even tighter, “you got this, beautiful.”
“yeah, yeah, yeah. easy for you to say.”
he chuckled, “what’s that supposed to mean?”
“you’re like, i don’t know, the smartest guy of our whole generation.” you mumbled against his shoulder.
peter shrugged at that comment, “hey, even i watch youtube videos for help sometimes.”
“yeah, but you grasp every concept so quickly, like you don’t even have to try.” you looked up at him, blinking when you realised how that must have sounded, “...that was supposed to be a compliment.”
“you’re adorable.” peter chuckled, “how about we study together? i’ll make a time table; and don’t worry, it’s not going to be super chaotic, just a simple time table; and we can figure it out together. how’s that sound?”
you smiled at him, feeling your heart swell at the amount of his care, “sounds perfect.”
his smile mirrored yours, “thanks for telling me.”
you gave him a grin.
“now since i told you, can we fuc-”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
masterlist
2K notes · View notes
alwaysmoncheri · 1 month
Note
hello! I hope you’re doing good! I would like to request a fic with tasm!peter parker or james potter if you prefer, but something where they’re making out and the reader ends up breaking his glasses? If that makes sense🫣
hi, my darling, i’m am doing very well! thank you for requesting, that makes complete sense! I’m totally watching tasm again after writing this <3
cw: fem!reader, making out, slightly suggestive (but not really), aunt may walking in, established relationship, fluff, 1.2k
<3
Peter’s mouth is on your neck while the bridge of his glasses rubs against the skin just an inch higher than his mouth. His hands stay firmly planted on your hips as you sit in his lap on his swivel chair. Your textbook and computer lay abandoned next to his on his desk in front of you.
“Peter, I have to study,” you mumble, but the sigh that escapes your lips makes your excuse less believable, “We have to study.” you add, trying you best to get yourself and peter back on track for a big exam tomorrow. Crazy for Peter or not, this test is important and you need to get a little studying in, but you can’t get Peter to keep his hands off you.
“No, we don’t.” Peter replies quickly, before biting your neck, causing you to let out squeak.
“Peter,” you practically whine, and the chuckle that falls from Peter’s mouth vibrates onto your neck, causing you to squirm in his lap. When Peter lifts his head from your neck, you’re pouting. Lips jutted out and eyebrows pinched together with pleading eyes. Oh, Peter could die right here with you in his arms. He pulls you closer, biceps and hands pressed into your sides and forearms into your stomach.
“You’re going to be fine,” Peter offers gently, pressing a much softer kiss to your cheek, allowing you to release the tension from your face, “You’ve studied plenty already.”
“But–”
“No, buts,” Peter shuts you down, gently rubbing your sides in an attempt to silence your worries. He wants to kiss you so bad, but he would never do it without your permission. And if you want to study, he’ll let you, but he doesn’t think you really do, “Kiss me?”
Peter hears you release a long, dramatic, sigh before shifting yourself in his lap so that you’re straddling him, his hands now stabilizing you by your waist. For a moment your face is expressionless and Peter can’t read you. He worries that you’re unhappy with him but when he sees a giddy smile creep onto your face, he instantly reciprocates and his worries melt away.
You lock your hands around Peter’s neck before leaning in to kiss him. At first, you kiss him softly, tenderly just because you love him. But when you lightly tug on Peter’s hair at the nape of his neck, he takes it as a sign to tug on your hips, pulling you flush against his chest and deepen the kiss. But when the bridge of you nose knocks into Peter’s glasses, you groan in momentary pain, causing his eyes to widen, hand reaching up to gently hold your cheek, the action asking if you’re okay. When you nod your head and meet his gaze, you notice his concern before it’s quickly replaced with frustration. Peter quickly tears his glasses on his face and tosses them towards his bed without sparing a glance in that direction. But when a soft crack echos from across the room, you snap your gaze towards the glasses that now lay broken at the bridge on the floor.
“Peter!” You gasp, shifting your gaze between him and the broken glasses, but no concern seems to be etched on his face.
“Don’t worry, I can get new ones,” Peter assures you, kissing the corners of your lips while his nose delicately brushes the apples of your cheeks, “I just wanna kiss you.” Peter whispers and you feel a rush of warmth spread across your face at his tone.
“Aunt May isn’t going to be happy.” You state, nervously glancing towards the door that Peter probably forgot to lock again.
“Shush, less talking, baby,” Oh god, you melt completely at the way his says baby and presses his finger to your mouth, before replacing it with his lips, “More kissing.” He adds in between a few quick, hard, presses of his lips on yours.
“Oh whatev—hmph!”
Peter kisses you long and hard, successfully getting you to stop talking. You feel hot all over when he kisses you again and again. And when you rank your fingers through his hair, lightly tugging on the ends, while simultaneously gently biting his bottom lip, Peter makes a sound between a gasp and a groan that makes you want to do it again just so you can hear the sound once more. There’s a kiss, another, and another, you’re so caught up in the feeling of his mouth against yours, carefully sliding your hands up and down his chest before lightly gripping a fist full of his shirt to keep him near you.
The way Peter touches you is like muscle memory, he knows how to make you gasp and what makes you shiver. When, his hands slip under the material of your shirt and caress your skin, your body reacts exactly how he knows it always does. Then, he lifts you up, your legs wrap around his waist, and with his lips still on yours, he gently lowers the both of you onto his bed. He seems so far away now and you can’t handle it. Before he even has the chance to lower himself further down onto the bed, you grab his biceps, which are tensed from holding himself up, and tug him towards you. Peter practically falls and suddenly the weight of his whole body is on top of you, Peter worries for a moment, breaking the kiss, but you make a noise, reminiscent to a childish whine before grabbing his jaw with both of you hands and pulling him back. With his lips on yours, his tongue slides into your mouth while your thumbs trace the outline of his jaw and his hand slides behind you back and into your shirt.
“Hey, do you two know where—Oh my goodness!” You and Peter are quickly pulled apart, turning your heads in the direction of Aunt May’s loud gasp. She stands just outside the bedroom with one hand still on the doorknob, her expression loudly displaying her shock. Peter stays on top of you for a split second, before May’s gaze shifts between his hand in your shirt and both of your disheveled appearances, “Peter Benjamin Parker!”
With that, Peter immediately jumps up from on top of you, quickly grabbing your hand to stand next to him. Both of your faces are flushed red from being caught, even if all you were doing was kissing. Aunt May stands by the door, both of her hands placed firmly on her hips, presumably awaiting a reasonable response while you and Peter glance at each other in search of something to say. When Peter’s gaze returns to his aunt, he finally opens his mouth to speak.
“Aunt May—We were just—” Peter pauses as he stumbles over his words, feeling pathetic under the eyes of both you and his aunt.
“Studying.” You finish with a somewhat convincing smile and when Aunt May turns to you, her gaze softens, but when she notices the broken glasses laying forgotten on the floor behind you, her questioning expression returns.
“And what happened to your glasses?” Aunt May asks, a triumphant smile crossing her face as she knows she’s caught the two of you red-handed in your obvious lie, “Were you studying when that happened?”
You and Peter hesitate, he sends you a nervous smile and the both of you bite your tongues, not trusting yourselves to speak. After a moment, the two of you nod, heads hanging low.
“Mhm, right,” May hums before sending Peter a look that says, ‘we’ll talk later.’ Then, she takes a few steps into the room, causing you and Peter’s eyes to widen, but May only steps around you to pick up the broken glasses before walking back towards the door, “Well, dinner is almost ready, you two better behave.”
“Okay, yeah, thank you, May.” Peter says, and you can tell he’s beyond flustered by the situation as he runs a hand through his hair, then brushes a finger along his bottom lip, “We’ll be down soon.”
May nods before sending the both of you one final look, this one a little more playful than the rest. She exits the bedroom and closes the door behind her, leaving you and Peter alone once again.
The both of you share a glance before breaking out in a fit of laughter. Peter falls back onto the bed, tugging you down with his so that you’re laying on his chest.
“I told you she’d be mad.” You tease, running your hand up his chest, eventually reaching the back of his neck, while leaving a gentle kiss on his jaw.
“It was so worth it.” Peter smirks before flipping you over and kissing your face
<3
masterlist . tasm!peter parker masterlist . taglist
thank you for reading, my darling! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a smooch if you do, ily! send requests to my inbox!
tags: @googie-jeon, @Kevia1000, @annoyingmidgetwhowrites, @averyhotchner, @marauderswhxre, @vixparker
alwaysmoncheri © ─ all rights reserved. please do not repost/translate/copy any of my work.
905 notes · View notes
bruisedboys · 4 months
Note
peter parker and “is that my shirt?” prompt would be so cute!
congrats on 6k
thank u angel! hope u like this!! join the celebration
tasm!peter parker x fem!reader
Peter’s missed you so much he actually feels kind of sick. He’s practically buzzing as he unlocks the apartment door and lugs his suitcase inside.
“Angel?”
There’s a loud and very cute squeal from down the hall. Rapid footsteps, and then you appear in your pyjamas, beaming bright as the sun, looking like the prettiest thing Peter’s ever seen.
“Peter!” You squeal, a ball of excitement. “Baby. Oh my gosh.” You cross the room and throw your arms around his neck. Peter laughs, his chest flooding with warmth, and hugs you back twice as strong.
“Hi, honey,” he says, lovelorn. You smell amazing. You look like an angel. You’re squeezing him to death. He’s missed you so much he could cry. “Holy moly, I missed you so much.”
You giggle, turn your face into the side of his head and drag your nose along his jaw. “I missed you more,” you say, lips hot on his skin.
A shiver runs down Peter’s spine. He’s only had you back for a half a minute and you’ve already got him shivering? Typical. “Impossible,” he tell you. He runs his hands down your back and up again as if to prove to himself you’re really there.
You laugh and pull back, bouncing on your toes, to look him in the eye. You’re so, so beautiful. Somehow prettier than when he left you, which seemed impossible but apparently isn’t, not for you.
You reach up and push a lock of hair from his eyes. Peter’s hypnotised. He doesn’t get how one girl can be so achingly lovely, so pretty and so sweet, but you manage it. He slides his hands down to your waist, feeling like he might explode if he doesn’t touch every inch of you. It’s then that he recognises the familiar fabric of your shirt. He looks down.
“Hey, is that my shirt?” He asks, raising his eyebrows. He nudges you backwards with his hips to get a better look. It is his shirt. His favourite one, which he didn’t pack for his trip because it suspiciously went missing the day before he left. “It is!” He exclaims, pinching at your side. “You had it this whole time?”
You giggle at his prodding, and try twisting yourself out of the way. Peter keeps a firm grip on you, hand spread over your ribs, his glare full of accusatory heat.
“I’m sorry!” You say, giggling like an idiot when he pinches you some more. “I missed you, okay? Is that such a crime?”
Peter makes a face at you but his heart’s soaring. “Well, if you count theft as crime then yeah, I would say so.”
You huff. “You’re so dramatic!”
“I’m dramatic?” Peter feigns offence, pulling his head back incredulously. “You’re the one who stole my—!”
Your lips land on his before he can finish his sentence. His words are lost to your mouth. You push up into the kiss, fervent and hot. Your fingers curl into his collar and brush over the column of his throat, and Peter forgets everything else. He kisses you back just as hard, one arm hooked around your waist and the other bent between your chests to hold your jaw.
“Never mind,” he says between kisses. “You can keep the shirt, baby.”
You laugh against his mouth.
2K notes · View notes
spidernerdsblog · 1 year
Text
flexible
A/N : another blurb inspired by a prank video. Hope you like this. Let me know what you think.
Summary : you prank your boyfriend by putting him in the positions he puts you in during sex.
Pairing : Peter Parker x Reader
Warnings : mature content
Tumblr media
You were hanging out at Peter’s dorm room, sitting on the couch and scrolling through your social media accounts.
“Hey whatcha doing?” Peter asks, walking into the living room. You look up from your phone.
“Nothing, just watching this tiktok on some special yoga poses. Apparently only women can do these very easily.” It was a lie in the video the girlfriend was pranking her boyfriend by putting him in the positions he puts her in during sex.
“That’s rubbish, it just depends on your body’s flexibility.” Peter says.
“You think you’re flexible enough to do these?” a mischievous smirk plays on your lips as you raise an eyebrow baiting him.
“Babe look who you’re talking to. I’m spiderman, I'm flexible AF.” He states placing his hands on his hips with an air of confidence
Oh this is gonna be fun you thought, putting away your phone and standing up from the couch. “Ok let’s see how flexible you are.”
“Yeah, let's do it!” He says excitedly pumping his fist in the air. 
“For the first pose you need to lie down on your back.” You instruct as Peter goes to lie down on the floor. 
“Now bring your legs up” you tell him and he follows by lifting his legs up. “Yeah, just like that. Now spread them wide all the way”
“Like this?” He spreads his legs wide. 
“Yeah and then grab the back of your thighs and pull up.” Holding by the thighs Peter pulls his legs up to his chest and you bite your lip to hide a smile.
“Do you feel it?” You ask.
“Kinda.” He replies.
God he’s so innocent you thought laughing silently to yourself deciding to carry on with the next position.
“For the next pose, turn on your side and bend your knees.” Peter follows your directions and turns on his left side. “Now lift the top leg up.” 
He lifts his right leg up as you hum in approval. “Yeah, as high as you can.” 
“Ooh I can feel this!” He tells and you purse your lips to keep the giggle from slipping out of you.
“Good now stand up.”
“This one is a bit rough, it's called the bunny hop. So you gotta squat down to your feet.” You explain as he squats down.
“Yeah great, now jump up and down.” Peter starts to hop on his feet. “No, no your feet should be on the ground just move your hips” he does as told and you swear to god watching him do that sent you on the verge of losing all control and laughing out like a maniac.
You quickly schooled your features and said. “Ok so for the last one get on the couch on your knees. Grab on the backrest.”
Peter gets on the couch kneeling and holds onto the backrest as you lift his left leg.
“Now lift this leg up and stick your ass out.” Just then Harry decides to stroll into the living room.
“Looking great Parker.” He opens the refrigerator to grab a beer bottle. “You guys taking a trip to the wild side? Should have asked me would’ve been happy to help.” He says while opening the bottle. Understanding finally dawned upon Peter as he jumped out of the couch with a mortified expression and you burst out laughing.
“Oh my god Y/N! You’re such an evil.” He cried out as he thought of all the sex positions you made him do. 
“You don’t have a problem when you put me in those positions.” You tease both of your faces red yours from laughing too hard, his from embarrassment as he stomped back to his room.
“Always wanted to peg that ass.” Harry says, eyes focused at the open door of Peter’s room. 
“Shut up Harry!” Peter yells from his room. Chuckling Harry takes a sip of his beer and saunters off to stand beside you, handing you another bottle.
“Pussy.” He mumbles and turns to you with a sultry look. “The offer still stands, you know. Just like I said before you’re welcome to watch…” he eyes you up and down. “Or join.”
Your lips curl into a smirk as you regard him with narrowed eyes. There have been quite a few times where Harry had openly admitted he’s attracted to both of you suggesting you guys should try doing threesome. “I’ll give it a thought.” You say clinking your bottle to his and take a sip.
Tumblr media
9K notes · View notes
literaila · 6 months
Text
i’ll tell you in the morning
tasm!peter x reader
summary:
“you’re going to fall through the couch.”
“the couch would never betray me.”
warnings: overly considerate peter, scheming reader, fluff and stuff
Tumblr media
*
“you’re supposed to be in bed.”
his voice rolls, like a click on a cassette, and you know that peter is not really there.
because it’s all a little blurry. his voice, the door opening, the feeling when he kneels down next to you, his breath hot in your ear.
it’s all some remanent of a dream. a brief moment where you might wake up, but decide not to.
“i’m serious,” his voice ebbs and flows, waving in and out, like your consciousness. “you know i don’t like it when you wait up for me.”
you groan and roll even further into the couch. your face is smushed, and your hair is a mess, sweaty because you’re drowning under every blanket in the house. it smells like cotton, and peter’s deodorant, and potato chips that you probably dropped through the cushions.
you dig your nose in deeper, trying to get back to that dream.
peters probably not actually there, you think, because if he was he would’ve kissed you awake. his hand would be lazily running through your hair, and his body would be pressed against yours. you would be cuddling by now.
real peter is much nicer than dream peter, who shakes your shoulder, albeit massaging you right afterward. “c’mon, bug, we’re going to bed.”
“sleeping,” you mumble, pulling away from him.
dream peter continues to try and wake you up, while you wonder—amidst the dream, no doubt—when real peter will be home. you want to be drowning in his collarbone instead of your own sweat.
there’s a kiss next to your ear. “you’re going to fall through the couch.”
“the couch would never betray me.”
“we’ll see if you’re saying that in the morning, when your neck is bent the wrong way,” he whispers, and rests his head against yours. you feel it as he breathes out, relaxes. almost like he’s purring into your ear.
so you keen into him, a bit awkwardly, considering that it’s his forehead. “why’d you wake me up?”
“you can’t sleep here.”
“c’mere,” you murmur to him, your hand wrapping around the back of his neck, fingertips just brushing his hair. “cuddle with me.”
“being cute isn’t going to stop me from moving you.”
“peter,” you try and push him away, “go to bed.”
“why are you out here?” his nose trails down your hair, to your neck. “it’s almost four in the morning.”
you ponder this, and decide that you don’t really remember what you were doing before you fell asleep here, with your hand shoved in the crook of your neck. “the beds cold,” you slur, head falling back into the cushions as you doze.
“that’s because all of the blankets are out here. why didn’t you turn the heat up?”
he’s playing with some baby hair by your ear now, trying to lull you to sleep, probably, because he loves you.
“i was waiting for you,” you whisper this like a prayer, “and now you’re here.”
“you waited in the wrong spot. i would’ve come to bed with you. there’s no room for me here,” he smiles when you finally turn your head towards him. he’s got a smudge on his nose, and his eyes are sunken in—aged from exhaustion.
“i know.”
you’re both whispering. trying not to wake that drowsy, lovesick part of yourself right now.
“hmm?” he leans into you, nose brushing your cheek. almost like he’s breathing you in. “what, bug?”
“i wanted to fall asleep with you.”
then his eyes are wide open, and he leans back, brows furrowed in a tight line. “i told you i was going out.”
you muse at his confused face, and lean back towards him. “i know. i didn’t know when you’d be home.”
“you could’ve called.”
“i’m not going to interrupt your repertoire with a burglar at midnight. it’s rude.”
“not to me.”
you tsk, and lean away, back into the pillow comforting you while simultaneously scheming to ruin your morning.
“you need more sleep than i do,” peter adds, trying to keep you awake with his sheer willpower, his hands squirm under your shoulders. “we’ve talked about this.”
“no, you threatened to tell my mom—“
“that’s not what i said,” peter interrupts, groaning into the sofa.
“that i wasn’t getting enough sleep. and i said that you could make your own decisions, but that i wasn’t going to stop waiting up for you.”
“it makes me feel bad,” he ignores your gentle protesting. “i don’t want to keep you up.”
“peter, it’s not like you’re out dancing with strippers.”
he laughs, unexpectedly. and you grin back at him, with a sheer conviction undiluted by any hints of remaining sleep.
“you’re up helping people. i don’t mind waiting for you,” you emphasize this by leaning in to kiss his forehead, tasting sweat and not minding at all.
“you’re going to be tired tomorrow. when did you fall asleep?”
you acknowledge your win for what it is, and sit up on the couch, looking around your apartment like you can’t remember where you are. “probably an hour ago. i didn’t know when you’d be home, and i waited a while, but then i moved to the couch so you’d have to wake me up if i fell asleep.”
“so this was an elaborate scheme, huh?” peter laughs at you as his teeth graze your cheek. his chaste kiss makes you warm.
“i learned from the best.”
peter chuckles against you, and the two of you sit like that for a moment. calculating each others breathing like there’s something you might miss, however brief.
and then you smile at him, and he smiles back. “bed?” he asks you, softly, fingertip running against the skin of your jaw. you nod.
his arms wrap around you as he picks you up, your head rested comfortably on his shoulder, legs wrapped around his waist.
“i’m leaving you on the couch next time,” he threatens as he walks, “just so you know.”
“then we’ll both wake up with sore backs. not just you.”
peter snorts. “i didn’t say i would be there.”
“like you can sleep without me.”
he doesn’t say anything to that, but you feel him murmur in your hair suspiciously.
peter sets you down on the bed softly, pushing your legs so you’ll lay down, then covering you with the comforter. he tucks you in like any average middle aged dad.
when you grin he nods, very satisfied with himself.
“i’m just gonna change,” he says, taking a step back.
“hurry. i’m tired.”
“now, look who’s talking,” he shakes his head, but moves swiftly to the bathroom. you hear it as he runs the sink, as he bangs his foot on something and curses, and when he pads back into the bedroom, looking like a young child sneaking out of bed in his pajamas.
you laugh. “where did you get those?”
peter looks down to himself. to the many cartoon styled spider-man’s dancing across his cotton pajama set. “what? this old thing.”
“i don’t think i can be seen in public with you if you’re wearing that.”
“we are in the privacy of our bedroom,” he points out.
“i don’t think i can be in the same room with you if you’re wearing that.”
peter shakes his head, pouting like he’s disappointed, but he slips the shirt off, a concession he’s apparently willing to make.
though you don’t doubt that there are ulterior motives to this move.
“c’mon,” you whine to him, “i’m cold.”
“you’re so needy.”
you roll your eyes, but sink into him as he shuffles from beside you, laying his head near yours. “you’re not coddling me.”
“i’m so very sorry, my dear,” he whispers, and wraps his arms around you.
“shh,” you nuzzle your nose into his neck, and murmur against his hot skin. “i want to go back to the dream i was having.”
peter must be laughing at you, you can tell, even slightly asleep, because something jostles you.
“what was it about?”
you smile against him, listening to his heart like a hymn you’re devoted to. “i’ll tell you in the morning.”
he whispers something, brief, a whisper in the quiet of the room. but you feel the words as he settles into the bed, his calloused hands running over your skin.
and you fall asleep; hands clutching the others heart.
*
2K notes · View notes
vivwritesfics · 1 year
Text
"I Know"
Peter Parker has the best girlfriend ever
1.1K
Peter Parker x Reader
I've been MIA for the longest time because the inspo just hasn't been there. But I've gotten away from university for a few days, and this is what came from my peaceful time alone
Tumblr media
"I'm so sorry, baby," said Peter. He stood on top of a building, watching a bank robbery happening opposite. A bag full of snacks and two pairs of his favourite pyjamas lay discarded beside him, and Peter made a mental note to pick it up later. The wind was biting, but Peter didn’t care. His attention was split evenly between his girlfriend and the bank robbery.
This was not the first time he had flaked on date night, and he knew it wouldn't be the last. He and his girlfriend both knew. But Peter Parker had the most understanding girlfriend in the world.
"It's okay, Pete," she said. Peter could picture her now, snuggled up in her bed, waiting to change into a pair of his pyjamas, with her snack basket filled and her laptop loaded up with a Christmas movie. "Go... save the world."
It wasn't quite saving the world, but she made Peter smile. She always made Peter smile. Y/N was the most understanding person in the world. "I'll be at yours as soon as I can. Don't open the chocolate without me."
After that, Peter had no choice but to hang up. The bank robbery had started to wrap up and Peter had to stop them. He put his phone in his bag, pulled his mask over his face, and swung down to the bank. "You guys have ruined my date night."
“What the fuck?” One of the bank robbers dropped his white bag filled with green notes and swung a bat at Peter.
It was cartoon-y, how these robbers were behaving. The white bags, the notes flying all over the place. Their ski masks weren’t masks at all, but unfolded beanies with the eyeholes cut out. “Wait, can I get a picture? My girlfriend is going to love this.”
***
Y/N’s family loved Peter. Somehow, he’d never been late to dinner with her parents. Either criminals decided to take the day off, to let Peter have his dinner, or for once somebody else was cleaning up the city in his stead.
But not tonight.
“I’ll be maybe ten minutes late,” he said as he swung through the city. His suit was discarded, but his tie was still around his neck.
Y/N had her phone between her shoulder and her ear as she put in a pair of earrings. Dinners like these were a big deal to her parents. The whole family dressed up fancy, all of her sibling’s partners were invited and they had at least three courses. “Pete, babe, it’s fine. I’ll cover you.” And, as she said it, she didn’t sound disappointed at all.
Peter really had the best girlfriend in the world. “Holy shit, I love you,” he said, only just noticing his tie. But it was too late to remove it now. “Please send me the cover story.”
They said their goodbyes (with Y/N begging him to stay safe) and went to do their things. Peter fought the bad guy, managing to keep his rather expensive tie intact. Y/N finished getting dressed for dinner and went downstairs to greet her parents.
Her siblings and their partners were already downstairs, drinks in their hands.
“There she is!” Called her brother as Y/N stepped into the room. He checked his watch and feigned a frown. “Not like that boyfriend of yours to be late, is it?”
With her hands clasped behind her back, Y/N rocked on her heels. “Actually, Peters gonna be late today,” she said, hoping they weren’t going to ask anymore questions.
“That Parker boy is never late,” her father said, “What’s holding him up?”
Before now, Y/N hadn’t thought of an excuse for Peter. She had just hoped they wouldn’t ask, and then he could’ve come up with his own backstory. (Peter had gotten good at that).
“Uhh…His house… caught fire? And his aunt… is in the hospital… with death?” oh yeah no this was not going well. “Oh! And the tire on his bike popped.”
Yes. That was very believable.
But nobody questioned it as Y/N sat beside her sister and her sister’s girlfriend. “He’ll be here soon.”
Her eyes shifted to the floor, which only made everything more believable. She pulled out her phone and sent Peter the cover story, just seconds before the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it!” She shouted, jumping up.
Racing to the front door, Y/N pulled it open to see Peter stood there, still sorting out his suit. “You are so lucky nobody else answered the door,” she said and buttoned up his shirt correctly. “I sent you over the cover story,” she whispered and kissed his cheek.
Pulling him into the house, Y/N pushed him towards her father. “Hello, Mr L/N! Sorry, I’m late, my tire burst.”
Suddenly, Y/N’s mother came running out of the kitchen. “Peter, my dear!” She shouted and pulled him in for a hug. “I’m so sorry to hear about May and your house. You can stay here for as long as you need!” She cried, running her fingers through her hair. He looked at Y/N with her brows furrowed. ‘Go with it’, she mimed. “How about we all go and visit May as soon as we’re finished with dinner?”
“Oh! Please, Mrs L/N. That’s not necessary.” Peter pulled away from his girlfriend’s mother and grabbed Y/N’s hand. “Can I have a word with you upstairs?” He asked her, and Y/N allowed herself to be pulled up to her bedroom.
As soon as the door was shut Y/N was wrapped around him. “I missed you,” she said, planting a kiss on his cheek.
“Missed me so much you told your family that May was in the hospital?”
“And that your house burnt down,” she said quietly, laying her head on his chest. “I know I said I’d cover for you, but I’m not very good at it, Pete.” Her arms snaked around his middle, sitting beneath his blazer.
Peter’s phone suddenly buzzed. He pulled it out of his pocket and frowned once he looked at it. “Oh god, what is it?” Asked Y/N, looking up at Peter with wide eyes.
“Baby, I love you but, I’ve got to go. I swear this’ll-”
“It’s okay, Peter, I know.”
Peter kissed her. It was slow, yet oh so intense. One of those kisses that makes you gasp. “I have the best girlfriend in the world.”
8K notes · View notes
cosmal · 1 year
Note
✪ — oh em gee what about ❛ this is a good look for you. ❜ with peter parker
stained
summary — peter spills a drink on your top at a party.
content — tasm!peterparker x fem!afab!reader, mentions of nudity
note — sorry this is super short! more of a baby blurb!
You sit on the edge of the toilet, naked from the waist up, while Peter is hunched over the bathroom sink, scrubbing at your shirt.
"Peter, just leave it, I'll wash it at home," you say softly. He looks really determined.
He'd spilt his drink all over your top downstairs at the party you're at. He'd felt horrible and insisted that he could get the stain out in the sink. The green stain out of your white top.
Turns out dawn soap and lukewarm water don't do the job. "I'm sorry, baby, really," he frets, holding the top up where it drips into the sink. You're not sure if he's made it better or worse. You appreciate him nonetheless.
"Pete, thank you, really," you start, shifting uncomfortably over the plastic lid. You cross your arms over your chest, where your bra digs into your skin, and look at the wet mess Peter holds in his hands. "It's okay. But now I have no top."
Peter drops the shirt looking really guilty. He feels horrible because he's ruined one of your favourite tops and he's also the reason you're half-naked in some random condo.
"Shit," he curses to himself.
He doesn't think twice. Peeling his jacket off, he stands at your knees and holds it out. "Here," he says bashfully. It's a thin jacket, made of nothing really. It's all you've got and you're not about to start complaining.
You stand to slip it on and hate it when you realise it has no zipper. Or any buttons. You pull it taut over your front and start to feel anxious. "Can you see anything?"
He pulls the collar forwards over your collarbones and smooths it out over your shoulders. "You're safe," he smiles. You watch his throat bob under the skin of his lightly stubbled neck. "It, uh, it looks really good."
"Pete," you groan while tipping your head back. "I'm naked, in the middle of the city, wearing my clumsy boyfriend's jacket, and you're getting turned on?"
"What?" he gawps, clearing his throat, "I am not! You just suit it, that's all."
You pull it tight around your middle and roll your eyes. "You're unbelievable."
He plays with the hem between his fingers, keeping his eyes planted to the floor momentarily. "It's a good look on you."
You straighten your back and ignore the way he's making you feel. Time and place you remember. "Right, we're going outside unnoticed and you're gonna hail a cab with those long arms of yours."
"You don't wanna swing home?" he asks.
"You don't have your shit," you grumble. It'd be convenient, but also reckless.
"My shit? You mean my suit?" he laughs, wrapping a hand around the hinge of your elbow. "I'm gonna pretend you didn't say that because I deserve it."
Peter makes sure you're decent before he opens the door to the bathroom. You stand behind him, hanging off his arm, hoping his broad shoulders will do you a favour and hide you well.
There's a drunk guy on the other side for the toilet presumably. Peter moves to the side to shield you on instinct when you squeak out a surprised noise. You push your chest against him to cover the slip of skin that struggles to be covered by the jacket, and let Peter guide you down the hall.
You lean in to whisper in his ear, "You owe me, Parker."
You get out onto the street when he says, "I'll show you how sorry I am when we get home."
6K notes · View notes
Text
thinking about nerdy!peter...
Tumblr media
--gif credits: @capinejghafa
-first of all...his glasses oh my god. peter looks so delicious with his glasses, and it makes you melt.
-especially in the morning when his hair is a mess and he's still in that half awake state. oh my godddd.
-nerdy!peter loves a good movie night. he's lowkey a movie guy, but won't admit it. he loves to geek out about the little things while watching a movie you've never seen, but he's seen a million times.
-peter's pretty quiet, but is a more outgoing when he's around you. it took some time before he could come out of his shell, but with you, it was easy.
-when you guys go out to parties or get togethers, he doesn't talk much. he usually is stuck by your side all the way until you guys get home.
-nerdy!peter loves to figure out what your interests are and cater them around you. like if you're obsessed with a certain artist right now, he will make it his mission to get you every single album from them.
-he loves to get you flowers, and he especially loves to surprise you with them.
-sure, he's pretty quiet and awkward, but he knows when to step in when things get a little crazy. he suddenly loses all of his introverted tendencies when something happens, especially when it involves you.
-he would fully bend backwards for you. he thinks that you're an angel reincarnate, and that you deserve the entire world. or, at least the best parts of it.
-sometimes he has these thoughts that you could do better than him:(...you always reassure him because he is quite literally the sweetest boyfriend ever?? like hellooo?????
NSFW BELOW!! MINORS IF YOU SEE THIS, YOU'RE SO GROUNDED!!!!!!!!
-lets be real, nerdy!peter is a virgin when you met. teaching him about being intimate wasn't hard, but you didn't want to rush things with him. if you were his first, you wanted it to be special and loving for him.
-peter is so submissive at first, but when he gets more comfortable around you, he realizes that seeing you under him is something he can get used to.
-since the first time peter has tasted you, he can't get enough. sometimes he'll just eat you out for hours. you try to do something in return, but he says he's alright and that "seeing you cum was more than enough."
-when you guys do have sex, he goes hard. of course, you've had very slow and intimate sex, but holy shit??? peter likes to fuck you, hard.
-aftercare with him is so special. you want to make sure he feels loved every single time, especially since you are his first intimate partner. you often prioritize his needs before yours, but peter quickly realizes you need to be taken care of too. showers after are quiet, usually you are standing with him under the stream of hot water as you hold each other. you two are connected the entire time. all the way up to the moment you fall asleep, limbs wrapped around each other.
1K notes · View notes
madwcman · 3 months
Note
tasm! Peter kissing reader any chance he gets?
a/n: thank you for requesting <3
pairing: tasm! peter x reader
peter silently wraps his arms around you and rest his head between the crook of your neck, giving your neck a small peck. peter always wants to kiss you, every chance he gets he takes it.
“what was that kiss for?” you giggle, as your boyfriend grip on you tightens, and he starts to sway you both.
“just wanted to kiss you.” he says softly, moving his head from your neck, his lips landing on the apple of your cheek.
“you always want to kiss me.” you move your head back to look at peter with a bright smile. “of course i do.” he turns you around so you could face and see him fully. you give peter a warm smile and wrap your arms around his neck. he moves in to give you more kisses, you deserve all the kisses in the world from him, in his opinion. if he could kiss you all day he would, so he kisses you any chance he can.
“peter!” you shout, laughing at the pampering he’s giving you, you think your boyfriend is overly sweet, and you love it. you love peter.
he stops and pulls from your face. he has a cheeky smile and pulls you in, hugging you tighter than before. “you’re too sweet peter.” you tell him fondly. your hands going up to peters hair, playing with it softly, he loves when you play with his hair. it makes him melt.
“i’m too sweet?”
“yes, you practically spoil me.” you giggle out, your heart is all warm and you feel a little silly when your with peter. “well a sweet girl like you should be spoiled.” and he moves in to kiss you all over again.
1K notes · View notes
luveline · 6 months
Note
hellooo!! im not sure if your requests are open so feel free to ignore this but i was wondering if you could write for tasm!peter where the reader just got her wisdom teeth removed and she’s all loopy on anesthetics and forgets peter is her boyfriend? i saw this video where this girl got her wisdom teeth pulled and forgot she was dating her boyfriend and fell in love with him all over again😭😭
https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZPR7sGQo5/
thank you for your request! ♡ fem, 1k
"Here she is," the nurse says gently, walking you out with his arm behind your back. "Alright, say hi to Peter." 
"Hi, Peter," you mumble, eyes on the floor. 
Peter grins at you, worry warm at the back of his throat. "Hey. Is that everything?" he asks, nodding at the nurses paper bag of aftercare. 
"Everything you'll need." The nurse helps Peter take over, hoisting your arm over his shoulders before stepping away. "Alright, feel better, okay? And don't hesitate to call if something comes up. We're here to look after you." 
You seem appreciative in your fog, but it's hard to tell. Peter curls his arm around your hip and gives it a soft rub as he leads you to the stairs. Whoever devised the floor plan here had murder on their mind —the second floor is completely inaccessible. Luckily, Peter has a lot of strength at his disposal. 
You can feel it. "Woh, you're strong," you murmur. 
"You know that already." His grip on you tightens, pretty much carrying you down the tight staircase. 
"Do I?" you ask. You make a sound like you're hurting, a squeak. 
"I'd hope so." At the end of the staircase, he sits you down, worried you're not feeling well. "You okay? I can princess carry you if you need me to." 
You look at him with wide eyes. He turns to check there's no one standing behind him, but you're really looking at him. "What?" he asks, touching your knee, imploring. "You look like you've seen a ghost." 
"You're Peter?" you ask. 
Ah, the amnesiac effect of anaesthetic. His touch turns comforting, stroking your thigh with as much care as he can drive into his palm alone. "That's me. Hey, if you're forgetting me, does that mean you're not mad at me for last Friday anymore? 'Cos I know you said you forgive me but I can tell it still pisses you off–" 
Your eyes fall to his hand. "Why would I be mad at you?" you ask. 
"I finished the milk and put the carton back in the fridge, even though I promised I'd stop doing it. You see the jug and think there's milk left. We were gonna have macaroni and cheese..." He nudges your fingers with his. "Are you okay? You don't look like yourself."
"What do I usually look like?" 
"Not so, you know. Daunted." 
"You're really handsome," you whisper, refusing to meet his eye. 
"Oh, you think so?" 
You nod like your head is too heavy. You're embarrassed, you sweetheart, oh my god Peter could cry into your lap. 
"Let's get you to the car, baby." 
"Where are we going?" The gauze gives you the world's most adorable lisp, and it turns your gasp into a hum as Peter stands you up. 
"Home." 
"Together?" 
"Yeah, we live together. It's a nice place, and you're a great decorator, you know? It's cozy." 
"Thank you," you say shyly. 
You're not not shy with him, but it's been a long time since you got so quiet over a practically innocuous comment. He wants to see how you'll react to real compliments, over the top stuff that he one hundred percent means. It's a little mean, but when will you ever be like this again? 
He helps you out past the desk and onto the street to your car where it's parked a half a block down. "Don't worry about all this, okay? I'm gonna take such good care of you, sweetheart. There's an ice pack and a brand new comforter with your name on it waiting at home." Peter smiles at your starry eyes as they flash to his, amazed at his simple plans. "How does that sound, beautiful? Is there anything you want before we head home? Anything that would make you feel better?" 
"You're gonna take care of me?" you ask breathlessly. 
"That's my job. That's my number one boyfriend duty." 
"You're my boyfriend?" 
"I am!" he says happily, laughing as he speaks. "For a while. I've been trying to take things further but you're always really shy about getting married–" 
"You want to get married? To me?" 
Peter presses a soft kiss to your cheek. "You're the only person I'd ever want to get married to. We already picked the flowers–" 
"We did?" 
He laughs again, all your questions. He loves regular you but loopy you is especially endearing. "Last time I got super drunk, yeah. You never let me forget it." 
"So you love me?" you ask, stopping short.
"I love you so much," he says immediately, hugging you into his side. He dots another kiss against the top of your head. "You should remember that even if you don't remember me." 
"I love you," you say quietly. 
Peter doesn't know if that's your memory returning, or if you've fallen in love with him in the last fifteen minutes. He could easily fall in love with you that quickly, and yet he's still amazed at your confession. 
"That's good. That's great. Thank you, sweetheart," he says, desperate to hold your face in his hands but weary of causing you future pain. "There's your car," —he points, lowering his head to yours to make sure you can see it, hand now protectively held between your shoulder blades— "let's go home now. Yeah?" 
You start walking again at his requests. He can pretty much see the steam rising off of your face, giddy with happiness at these revelations. You're together, you're in love, and you think he's handsome. He wonders what you'll have to say about his biceps in this state of delirium; you go crazy for his arms sober. 
Which reminds him. 
"I totally have another secret to tell you," he says, unlocking the car as you approach and helping you into the passenger seat. 
"What is it?" you ask. 
Peter closes you in and skirts around the door, climbing into the driver's seat. He's glad that New York is as ridiculously loud as ever, because not even the closed doors or your sodden gauze can smother the way you shriek.
"My boyfriend is Spider-Man?!" 
5K notes · View notes