#tasm peter parker smut

[ohcaptains]

𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟.

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.

#peter parker #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter parker #tasm! peter parker #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm! peter parker x reader #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader #tasm!peter aprker smut #tasm! peter parker smut #tasm #tasm!peter x you #tasm peter parker #tasm peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker smut

[phantomlifes]

tasm who got sprayed with an aphrodisiac, so he goes to his roommate and fucks her well into the morning 🤭🤭🤭

A/N this deviated a bit but i needed to spread the munch agenda…hope you can forgive me friend…..

peter enters the apartment like a hurricane, his shaking body and heaving breaths impossible to ignore.

“peter?” you ask, eyes wide with concern. “what’s wrong?”

he doesn’t answer at first as he looks at you. of course you’d be wearing tiny pajama shorts right now, when he has no control of where his eyes land. he’s trying hard to catch his breath, his hands clenching into fists. he brushes the hair curled with sweat off his forehead and forces himself to look you in the eyes, raising his head higher. he anchors himself on your kitchen counter behind him. “aphrodisiac.” he breathed. “came home for my research.” he gulped, pushing himself to his bedroom, still evidently woozy. “gotta be an antidote.” he started to sway to the side, and you moved on instinct for him to fall in your arms.

“easy.” you drawled, arms shaking with his weight. you’ve never seen him in this state before. “where’s the antidote? do we have it?” you try to keep your voice level, but the urgency escapes your tongue in droves.

he shakes his head, looking up at you. his brown eyes have been blown even darker, the pupil completely swallowing his irises. “lab. somewhere. gotta go.” he pushes off of you, but you grab his shaking hand.

“there is no way in hell i’m letting you leave here like this.” you took a deep breath, knowing the ethics of this are dubious at best, since you’ve been attracted to him since the day he moved in and he is technically drugged. he’s obviously in pain, and you can’t let him go out alone all the way to the lab to get the antidote. you don’t even know if he’d survive. “look. it’s an aphrodisiac. i….” you closed your eyes before you continued. “if it will take the pain away, you could….take it out on me.” you swallowed, trying to put it gently.

peter looks at you in shock, managing to push himself off the ground all the way. “you mean it?” he asks, looking straight at your lips. “because it would…” his voice trails off, cracking.

“yes.” you grab his shoulders. “i mean it”

peter immediately grabs your face with his large hands and pulls you into him, his lips sliding against yours in an anxious release. you didn’t imagine your first kiss going like this, but it doesn’t count, right? as soon as he gets a bit of control of himself, though, he slows down a little, capturing you in a breath-sucking kiss, both of you breaking away for air twice. “are you sure?” he asks again, his voice a low rasp this time. you nod and he urges you to jump, carrying you with a kiss into his bedroom.

he lays you on the bed as gently as he can, and you immediately make work of sliding off your shorts and underwear. he’s so obvious with his staring, it’s adorable. “can i?” his eyes wander down and he asks again in that low rasp. “please?”

the way he said please sent a shiver down your spine. “yeah.” you answered breathlessly. “what do you want?”

“my face buried in your thighs.” he responds instantly, with the cadence of a casual conversation for something so brazen. you stifle a gasp and nod. he wastes no time gripping your thighs and hooking them on his shoulders. “you’re fucking dripping, baby.” he remarks as he starts to explore with his fingers. “this for me? you like seeing me worked up?” he almost whispers.

“i think so.” you manage to get out in between gasps from his fingers brushing against your clit. “do…do that more.”

“this?” he asks, rubbing his thumb in circles. “you like that, baby?” you squeeze your eyes shut and throw your head back with a stifled moan as your answer, and he grins. he takes this opportunity to start putting his mouth to work, his tongue lapping crudely as his thumb resumes pressing all of your nerves. the way he’s sucking and licking is filthy, the wet noises, his hums of delight and your cries of pleasure create a cacophony of pornography. you buck your hips against his face, pulling him closer lightly by his hair and when he groans you feel it inside of you. you whine, arching your back and he has to pin your hips down with a hand. he pulls his face away for a second, his mouth glistening with a smirk. “now who can’t control themselves?”

“shut up.” you whined in embarrassment, grabbing his hair and pulling him back down. he breathed a laugh against your clit, and you squirmed as much as you could in his hold. you’re not gonna last. he hummed and spoke into you, “yes ma’am.” and you knew you were done for.

“peter?” you whimper in between heavy breaths. “gonna cum.”

“yeah, baby?” he pulls his face away a bit, still keeping his thumb in position, only switching it to take your clit between his lips. “go on. cum for me.”

that’s all it took for you to release all over his chin with a weak little cry, your voice hoarse and breathless. you try to catch your breath, laying your head back on his pillow. “alright…” you breathed. “just give me a second…and you could…we could-“

“-about that.” he interrupted you. “i….i already did?” he says in a question, almost like he’s embarrassed, stark contrast to what his tone was minutes ago. “the effects wore off. let’s just leave it at that…” he trailed off, coughing. you prop yourself up on your elbows.

“did…did you…” you look down. “cum in your suit just from eating me out?”

he takes a deep breath, looking at you up and down. “maybe.”

you fall back with a giggle, and he immediately gets defensive. “what?”

“nothing.” you shake your head, the blood rushing to your face. “just so fucking hot.”

#PETER IS A MUNCH AND I WILL NOT BE CONVINCED OTHERWISE #tasm #tasm x reader #tasm peter parker smut #tasm peter smut #tasm smut #tasm peter x reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker smut #buggy bf #my writing #notsfw

[blooming-violets]

private #5 bent over a table while somethings baking in the oven. is it too much to ask for tasm peter parker bending reader over?

[location based smut prompts]

The To-Do List

[tasm peter x fem!reader]

(reader is described as having a ponytail that is long enough for Peter to wrap around his hand and use as leverage)

His birthday cake was nestled happily inside the heated oven. 

She got up early to make it for his special day. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail to keep out of her face while she had prepped and she was still in her pajamas from this morning. She had planned to have the cake in the oven, get her shower done, and place out his presents on the table all before he woke up. 

Peter, of course, had other ideas. 

He leaned against the kitchen doorway with a lopsided grin as he sleepily took in the sight of her. She paused when she saw him there, silent as ever, and crossed her arms. 

“You are not supposed to be awake for another hour,” she chastised. 

Thirty-five looked good on him. Every year he seemed to get more and more handsome. 

His eye wrinkles grew as his smile widened. A strand of dark hair fell down his forehead and he absentmindedly brushed it away. He was shirtless with nothing but a pair of dark boxers to keep him decent. 

She admired how defined his chest was. A hinting of his six pack was peeking out from just under the surface of his lean body. 

“I smelled cake.” His voice was thick and scratchy with lingering sleep. Peter’s morning voice was one the sexiest sounds she’d ever heard. 

She smiled as she rolled her eyes. It had hardly been in the oven for more than five minutes and it was already enough to get him out of bed. 

“The kitchen is a mess. I was going to clean it all up and have your presents out and I was going to be all dressed up and looking extra cute. You ruined it all with your stupid nose.” 

Peter laughed as he strode across the room to slip his arms around her waist. She looked up to admire him and wiped at a staining of toothpaste still clinging to the side of his lips. She caught it with her thumb and shoved it back into his mouth while he licked it off. 

“You already look extra cute,” he mumbled around her thumb. 

“I’m literally wearing your old, hole filled shirt and bright pink fluffy pants. This is not how I wanted you to see me this morning. It’s your birthday. I wanted it to be special.” She tugged her thumb back with a huff. 

Peter stepped back to appreciate her outfit in the morning light. She had already been in bed by the time he crawled through their window last night.

“I like it,” he stated. “It’s hipster.” 

She let out a laugh in response, “I don’t think you know what hipster means, babe.” 

Peter shrugged, “It means you dress like a bum, right?” 

“Oh my god, why don’t you go back to bed and try this again in an hour when everything is all set up, okay?” 

“No,” he whined. He latched himself onto her back, snaking his arms tightly around her stomach to press her against him. “I’m up. It’s my birthday. Say happy birthday to me and tell me you love me.” 

She grinned, snuggling back against his bare chest, “Happy birthday and I love you.” 

“That sounded insincere but I will take it.” His hand slipped up under her loose shirt to cup a warm hand over her breast, lazily palming it while he nibbled at the edge of her ear. He always liked the feeling of her nipple coming to life and growing harder against his hand. He held onto her chest like one might cling to the safety of a favorite stuffed animal. 

She groaned, “Your presents were supposed to be all set out nicely on the table. Instead you’re just greeted with a kitchen disaster of my cake baking. Are you sure you don’t want to sleep for another hour? I know you’re tired from last night. You were out late.” 

Peter began to slowly waddle them back and forth towards the kitchen table, refusing to release his grip from around her waist or remove his hand from her breast, “I know of a present I can unwrap right here…” 

She gasped under her breath, “Peter. This is no time. I’ve got a list of things to do.”

She felt him laugh quietly against her ear.

“Yeah and I’ve got a list of things to do, too. A whole list. Let’s see what the first thing to do is…” he pretended like he was reading off an imaginary piece of paper as he checked it over. “Ah, yes!” 

He slipped his hands out from her shirt and placed a gentle hand between her shoulder blades to bend her over the kitchen table. With a quick swoop, he tugged down both her pants and underwear, leaving them hanging around her ankles. She let out a shocked cry.

“Unwrap presents…check!” He chuckled to himself, giving her bare ass a soft slap. “And what a beautiful present it is. Couldn’t have asked for anything better. Wow, you really know me, baby, I’m super impressed.” 

“Peter,” she whined, pushing herself back up. “Not fair. I haven’t showered. I’ve got to get ready. I’ve-”

He cut her off with a kiss. His lips crashed against her and his tongue forced its way into her mouth to stop her from trying to protest further. She could taste the mint from his toothpaste still clinging to his tongue and she moaned as he pressed his hips into hers. He was growing harder by the second. 

“Shut up,” he mumbled against her lips with a smile. “My birthday. My rules.” 

“Okay,” she said with a dreamy sigh. It wasn’t hard to convince her. Her complaints were more for show than anything else. If Peter wanted her, he had her. “I love you, Pete.” 

“If you love me so much then why don’t you take off that shirt so I can see my second present.”

She did as she was told, stripping it from her body, until she was standing naked before him. The bulge in his boxers twitched which made her smile. She loved the fact that she could make him so hard from sight alone. 

Peter’s hand reached out to brush a calloused thumb across her hardened nipple, “Beautiful.”

He lifted her up onto the table so she was sitting closer to him and he moved between her legs. They wrapped around him so she could feel the heat of him soaking through his boxers and against her pussy. His eyes traveled down to her chest, taking in the sight, and sighing happily. His head dipped down so he could capture the waiting bud between his wet lips. 

She let out a satisfied moan and ran her fingers through the back of his hair while suckled on her. His tongue bathed her breast, teeth nipping at her nipple, and soothing it over with quick kisses and light sucking motions. His mouth was magic. He didn’t even need to touch her pussy for her to already be soaking through his boxers as she ground against him. 

“Feel that?” He groaned, bucking his hips. “Feel how hard I am?” 

She whimpered.

“All for you,” he whispered, finding her lips once more to kiss her deeply. 

All for her. 

It was his birthday. She should probably be getting down on his knees for him and sucking him off or tending to him in some way but she was nothing but putty in his hands. Lost in the feeling of seduction he was casting over her. 

Peter dragged her down off the table, smirking at the wet spot she had left behind, and spun her around. He folded her back in half over the table, scraping his nails down the length of her spine and over the swell of her ass. 

“The next thing on my to-do list,” he breathed, his voice low and deep. “Is you.”

She heard him discarding his boxers and suddenly felt the wet, hot tip of cock slide up her open folds. She was more than ready for him. He never had to do much to have her begging for more. Her hips grinded against the air as if trying to draw him in closer but he only continued to tease her with the tip.

“Someone’s eager,” he commended, giving her ass another slap. 

“Peter, please,” she gasped. 

He kept up his tantalizing torture. Every time his cock bumped over her aching clit, her hips would jerk backwards, and she’d let out a quiet cry.

“Please what?” He asked with an air of innocence. 

She groaned at his teasing, “Please fuck me! I want you to fuck me.”

“Aww,” he cooed. “Does my poor baby need my cock?” 

She whined and nodded. 

“You got up so early, didn’t you?” His nails dragged along her hips, making her squirm, as she humped frantically in an attempt to get at his cock. “You got up early to make my birthday so special. You baked me a cake. It smells amazing, doesn’t it? Smell it, baby.”

Her eyes widened in frustration, “Peter! Fuck me! Please, stop it.”

He ignored her pleas, getting off of them, as his cock twitched between her thighs, “Did you slip that cake into the oven just for me?”

She was nearly sobbing from her own arousal, ready to attack him if he didn’t shut up and fuck her soon. She arched her back to better entice him, wagging her ass and rubbing it against his hips. She pushed herself up with her arms so he could get a peeking view of her tits swaying in wait for him. 

That seemed to do the trick because he had gone silent as he stared.

“Fuck,” he breathed. “Happy birthday to me.” 

“I want it hard, Peter. Use me,” she whispered in an effort to finally push him over the edge. “I’m yours.”

He lined up his cock to her entrance and eased himself inside. She nearly doubled over against the table at the delicious feeling that flooded through her body. 

“Yes, yes, thank you, baby, thank you,” she cried. 

“You really love this cock, don’t you?” He breathed. “Do you love this cock more than me?” 

“No, baby, never. I could never-”

He pulled out and rammed the full, thick length back into her with a loud slap. 

She shrieked, falling forward into a flurry of mumbled moans, “I do, I do, I do. I love it more than you. I love it more than anything.” Tears pricked in her eyes from the overwhelming sensations taking over. 

Peter chuckled to himself, “That’s my girl.”

Her ass slapped against his body with each plunging drive of his cock as he took her. Fast and hard, just like she asked. Every thrust felt like it was reverberating through her, waking up all her senses, making her feel more alive than ever before. It was sheer bliss. Anticipation already began to build. He knew exactly how hard to take her. Peter could be rough but he never went past her limits. He knew her inside and out. He knew just where to push her before retreating back to safety. The sounds of her tumbling moans and each inhale of breath was all he needed to direct his path. 

He was filling her body, stretching her, taking her, building her up to that beautiful place of divinity. Her nails clawed at the table, scratching at the wood, trying to find some kind of purchase to steady herself with. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Peter!” She cried. 

“That’s it, baby,” he panted. “I got you. Don’t worry, I’ve got you.” 

He wrapped her ponytail around his hand and jerked her head upwards. She arched her back to accommodate the move as he held her against him. She could feel his ragged breaths against her cheek and listened to his erotic panting in her ear. The sound was enough to almost send her flying straight into an orgasm. 

The hand not keeping a tight hold of her ponytail wrapped around her to grab at her chest. He molded her breast between strong hands. 

She loved taking his cock. Loved it so deep. Thrusting. Hard. Stretching her. Forcing her to take him. Peter was thick. Thickest man she had ever been with. He pushed her walls to their max. His beautiful body and the sounds he made when he fucked her where like heaven to her ears. 

That familiar, sensual pressure began to grow inside of her with shallow waves lapping at the edges of her mind. Soon they would turn into giant swells. Taking her over until it was all she could feel. 

His hand slipped from her ponytail to wrap around her neck. He gave a gentle squeeze. Nothing too forceful but enough to send her flying even faster towards that tsunami of pleasure. She was so close. So ready. 

“Harder, Peter,” she sobbed. “Hard. Please. I’m-I’m…close…need it hard. Take me.” 

Peter was never to deny a request like that. He shoved her back over the table and tumbled on top of her, humping frantically with long, heavy strokes into her cunt. He could feel her walls tightening. He could feel her body changing. 

“Come on, baby,” he urged her. “Cum on my cock. Cum for me. Let me feel you.”

The universe exploded into blinding light. 

She didn’t care how loud she was. Didn’t care if the neighbors would hear. In fact, she wanted them to. She wanted them to know exactly how well Peter Parker could fuck his woman. 

Her toes curled and her legs kicked up as the sensory overload rocketed through her with golden waves of pure dopamine. 

Peter took her straight to the edge and held her there, spasming and sobbing, as he continued to fuck her through the orgasm. Even as the waves slowly receded, they still lingered in tiny aftershocks, due to his relentless pounding. He had gotten her where she needed to be and now it was his turn. 

He reangled himself into her, getting a better grip as he held onto her hips, and switched up his rhythm to slow. Peter liked to feel everything. He wanted to drag it out and feel her body wrapped around him. From fast and hard to slow and steady. His change of pace caused a low, drawn out moan to escape from her throat. 

“You like that, baby?” He panted. “You like feeling every inch of me?”

All she could do was whimper in response as her sex spasmed again around him. This was a man who knew how to lengthen an orgasm. She was completely helpless to him. Her body was his play thing. 

“Let me hear how much you love me, baby,” he whispered down in her ear as his cock buried straight to the hilt inside of her. “Let me hear you.”

She struggled to make any noise besides sobbing whimpers and broken cries. 

He moaned in response, “That’s it. Those are those sounds that I love so much. My poor baby, all ravaged on my cock. Can’t even speak.” 

He gave a small shudder and she knew he was close. She did her best to work her hips to meet his thrusts, squeezing him with her walls, sucking him in, clenching down. 

“That’s good, baby, that’s good.” He moaned, his voice slowly losing itself as he got closer to the edge. “Ooh, fuck, keep that up. ‘M gon’na cum inside ya’kay?” 

She loved it when he filled her. She loved feeling him drip down her leg as she carried him around with her. She would bathe in his semen if he wished it. It was his birthday, after all. The birthday boy could come wherever he pleased. 

His long, slow strokes worked her up as another, tiny orgasm rippled through her. That seemed to be all he needed to follow. 

Peter let out a low groan, his thrusts become more unrestrained with each passing second, and she took him. All of him. 

With the sweetest of cries, he emptied himself inside of her. She could feel him swell and pulse until she was impossibly full. That tiny orgasm grew into something much bigger, taking over her body along with him, as she felt him collapse on top of her, both shaking, as he bit at her shoulders with soft, love bites until he finally calmed down. 

He stayed like that, laid against her back and squishing her into the table, until he cock began to soften and he sadly slid back out. She tumbled back into his arms as they both fell to the spooning position against the kitchen floor. Naked, wet, and breathing heavily. 

Peter’s hand found the comfort of her breast once more. 

“Mmm,” he hummed. “Best present I could ask for. Thank you, baby. You’re too good to me.” 

She grunted in response, still finding words to fail her. Instead, she rolled over in his arms, hooking her leg through his, and leaving a trail of kisses across his face to show much she adored him.  

His eyes closed as he smiled happily at the feeling. 

Eventually she would have to get up. Eventually she would have to shower and get dressed and clean the kitchen and set up his presents and frost the cake…but for now…

For now she was happy to just lay here on the floor in his arms.

#andrew garfield #the amazing spiderman #tasm #peter parker #tasm peter parker #tasm peter #tasm x reader #tasm smut #peter parker x reader #peter parker smut #tasm peter x reader #tasm peter smut #tasm peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker smut #tasm fic #tasm smut fic #peter parker fic #peter parker smut fic #andrew garfield fic #andrew garfield smut fic #location smut prompts #the to do list #blooming violets fic #blooming violets

[bitchyycapricorn]

Brooklyn Bridge

Peter Parker x Reader

Masterlist Word Count: 1.3k Synopsis: Peter faces one problem constantly: Aunt May knocking on the door at the absolute worst times. Fed up, Peter decides to simply show you off to the public.

Quote: “Good God, look at you you’re doing such a good job.” Warnings: Smut, public sex, praise kink, usage of slut, language, P in V AN: Obviously with my highlighted quote TikTok has reminded me how much of a praise kink I have. Not edited.

“Oh fuck babe, I’ve missed you so much,” You groan as Peter thrusts into you. Your whole body is on fire at the feeling of Peters lips leaving small kisses on the side of your neck as he pounds into you mercilessly.

“God, “Y/N, you feel so fucking good.” Peter groans as his hand wanders up and down your side, taking in every inch of your body. Peter continues to plant small kiss along your jawline before stopping abruptly at the sound of a knock on his door.

“Peter?” May calls from the other side of the door. “Peter open the door!” Peter groans as he pulls out of you, leaving your body aching for his touch.

“You have to get in the closet,” Peter whispers harshly under his breath, “quick grab your cloths.” You find yourself stumbling out of his bed, scrambling while you pick your discarded cloths up from the ground before making a beeline to Peter’s closet. Even though you now couldn’t see Peter, you could hear him fumbling around while trying to get his cloths on before unlocking the door for May.

“Why do you always keep that door locked Peter?” May stammers as Peter shifts uncomfortably.

“I was trying to get to bed.” He replies slowly, “also I like the privacy.” He admits sheepishly.

May stares up at him for a moment before letting out a sigh. “Yes, alright, well I’m going to bed. I came to tell you goodnight and if you need me make sure it’s an emergency.” Peter nods before giving May a hug and sending her on her way, making sure to tell her goodnight as well.

Peter shut the door, letting out a small groan before or opening up the closet to reveal a disheveled Y/N. You let a smile spread across your lips as you stumble out of Peter’s messy closet. “Well then,” you hum, “Is the mood ruined or…”

“Ruined? What do you think?” Peter mumbles. “Everyone in the world wants to watch us have sex I swear. Constantly needing us, constantly knocking on the door. Might as well just have public sex at this point so people can ask questions without any barriers.”

You let out a small laugh, running your fingers up Peter’s arm. “Public sex huh? Well, maybe let’s keep it tame and go ahead and finish in your bed since May is now asleep.” You suggest, trying to pull Peter with you.

“No.” Peter replies, a smirk forming on his previously solemn face. “Get dressed, we’re going out.”

“Going out? It’s almost 11 at night…” You hesitate as you slip on your pajama shorts and tank top, followed by your jacket.

“Don’t you trust me love?” Peter asks sweetly causing your stomach to erupt with butterflies.

“Of course I trust you,”

+++

“I do NOT trust you!” You shriek as Peter lands on top of the main upper platform on the Brooklyn Bridge. You look down at the cars zooming by below you, feeling your heart drop. “Why the hell are we on the Brooklyn bridge?” You cry, clinging onto Peters warm body.

“Since everyone wants to watch us have sex so bad, thought I’d give them a show.” Peter declares.

“You-You what?” You stammer feeling your cheeks heat up as you stare into your boyfriends masked eyes.

“Hold on to the rail baby,” Peter encourages as he flips you around so your frontside is pressed against the metal railing and you’re staring down at the cars and water below.

“P-peter,” You stutter feeling his cold hand slowly snaking between your spread thighs in order to push your shorts and underwear to the side. His fingers dance across your bare cunt, spreading your wetness in the process.

“Look at my pretty girl, all bent over for me like a little slut.” Peter purrs “Such a good girl aren’t you.” You could now feel his finger slowly entering you, dipping deep into your soaking core.

“Fu-fuck Peter, what if someone sees?” You sputter as your walls close around his slender finger.

His mask brushes against your ear as he whispers “That’s why we’re up her baby, so everyone can watch me fuck you like a slut.” You let out a gasp as his digits thrust in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace. “Mmm you like that don’t you?”

You let out a small moan in response, squeezing the railing as his fingers speed up. “Oh god Peter I’m close,” you cry at the feeling of his thumb now toying with your clit.

“Are you now?” Peter hums, smacking your ass as his fingers continue to violently thrust in and out of your heat. “Well then, if you’re so close, cum for me baby. Cum all over my fingers like a good girl.” He praises.

Throwing your head back onto his shoulder you allow your body to let go, convulsing as your orgasm washes over your whole body.

“Good girl,” Peter groans, slowly pulling his soaking fingers out of you. Your hands continue to squeeze the railing while you desperately try and catch your breath. Behind you you could hear Peter unzipping his jeans, shuffling as he removes his hard dick from its restraints. “Ready pretty girl?” Peter grunts as he lines himself up behind you. You nod, forgetting about the cars below you entirely.

Peter helps to bend you over slightly more, before grabbing yours hips and sliding into you with ease. “Oh fuck,” Peter moans as he bottoms out. “You feel so fucking good baby.” Peter slowly pulls out of you before pushing back in repeatedly. Your legs began to shake as Peter speeds up his movement, pushing deeper into you each time.

Small moans and cries escape your lips as you’re thrusted against the metal railing repeatedly. “Peter fuck” you cry. “God, oh, Peter.” Your whimpers fill the air as Peter drills into you without mercy, enjoying the feeling of your clenched cunt squeezing his throbbing cock.

“Good god, look at you you’re doing such a good job.” Peter praises, hands gripping your ass roughly. Your legs were shaking as Peter hammers into you from behind. Each thrust feeling deeper than the last, pushing you closer to your second orgasm. “Such a pretty little slut. Taking my cock so good in front of everyone.” Peters voice and hands felt hypnotic. The way he’s roughly grabbing your hips as he guides your body up and down his thick cock with every thrust.

“Peter-“ you moan, never wanting Peter to stop. “K-keep going please,” you whine.

Peter lets out a grunt, feeling himself getting closer to the edge. Your body capturing his attention as it knocks against the railing the deeper he pushes into you. “Shit-“ Peter mutters as his orgasm begins to creep up even more. “I’m close.”

You let out another string of moans knowing you’re close as well. You feel as one of Peters hands snakes around your front side, slowly rubbing your clit and adding to the pleasure. Throwing your head back you can feel your muscles begging to contract as a wave of adrenaline and pleasure washes over you. “Fuck Peter,” you groan as you finish around his cock.

Letting out a loud moan Peter releases inside of you, overwhelmed by the feeling of you squeezing around him as you ride out the last of your own orgasm.

Peter slowly pulls out and you can feel the hot cum slowly running down your bare thighs. Your body still shaking from the events just moments ago.

“You alright baby?” Peter whispers as his arms wrap around your disheveled figure. Planting soft kisses to your shoulder as he rubs your upper arms.

“I’m good, that was, that was amazing,” you reply, leaning back into his warm body.

“Good, I’m glad you enjoyed it as much as I did. Now let’s get you home and cleaned up hm?” He hums, turning you around so you’re facing him. You nod, allowing Peter to embrace you once more.

You look around at your surroundings for a moment, admiring the beauty of the city from so high up. “Hey Peter,” you whisper, “how many people do you think recorded us?”

Peter let out a small laugh before realizing you were right. “Oh fu-“

+++

TAGLIST @noakrootje

#peter parker smut #peter parker fanfiction #tasm peter parker smut #tasm fanfiction #tasm smut #tasm!peter x reader #tasm peter #peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker x you #peter parker x plus size reader #peter parker x plus size reader smut #peter parker oneshot #tasm!peter x y/n #tasm #tasm!peter one shot #tasm!peter fluff #peter parker x y/n smut #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x reader smut #peter parker x fem!reader #peter parker x fem! reader smut #peter parker fluff #peter parker imagine #tasm x reader #the amazing spider man #spiderman oneshot #spiderman smut #spiderman x plus size reader #spiderman x you

[reidslovely]

Something about helping frat!blonde! Peter touch up his roots. Like he calls you and reader must think its for hooking up purposes - then he surprises her w “can you. uh..retouchmyrootsplease” and she’s like “??? 🤨wat” and you just go over to his place and spend time with him, washing his hairr, he making eye contact with reader through the mirror, etc. But he’s still stubborn about his feelings so he’s like “this was a one time thing only don’t let it get to ya head”

sorry if this was jumbled I just had this in my head for a while now

Yes this idea is so so so so so cute. I have written something vaguely similar before but I love it so much I don't care to write it again

please reblog or comment in place of liking/hearting this post 🫶🏼

“Pete?” You questioned picking up your phone, your eyes locked on the clock that read 4:00pm. “It’s far too early for a booty call..what’s up pretty?” 

“Ya flatter bashful.” His chesty laugh could be heard on the other end of the phone. It sent your heart doubling in speed, your cheek pressed lovingly into your shoulder. 

“You still with me bashful? I need you to do me a favor.” 

“So this is a hookup call..you only ask me that if-” You're cut off by him rushing out a string of words. None of which you caught. “Pete..baby. I need you to breathe and say that again.” You laughed softly, already gathering your stuff up to head over to the Theta Tau. Regardless if this was a hookup situation or not you were tired of your homework and Peter always seems to take any type of stress away. 

“Can you uh..” There's an awkward cough and sigh. “Retouchmyrootsplease?” 

The questions still came out as one word this time around but at least you actually caught what he was saying. 

“Sure, Pete.” You tried not to laugh. “Do you have what you need or do we need to run by Sally?” 

“No, no I have everything here for you. Thanks for this.”

“Course Pete, anything for you.” You hung up before you could get any type of snarky reply. 

Peter’s blond locks were a new addition about three weeks into your situation ship and you absolutely loved them. They flattered his face, and made his little baby deer eyes even more baby deer like. Which made you want to kiss him even more, and made it hard to say no when he’s asking you for another round. 

“You’re literally the best for this. Just moved up to like number two in my ranking.”

It was a joke, you were easily number one if not the only girl in Peter’s ranking but you have to play along or else you’ll scare him away. 

“Offended, whose number one.”

“May..sorry.” Peter sighs dramatically, leading you up the stairs to his bathroom. Tossing a few nods and hey’s to his brothers walking down the steps. 

“Mhm can’t be mad at that.” 

Peter laughed sitting on the chair he’d tucked away in the bathroom, pulling off his shirt. 

“Awe did you go ahead and set everything up for me?”

“No I was gonna do it myself but that's how we ended up in this scenario in the first place.”

Peter would never admit to it but he had set everything up for you. He’d done it before he even picked up the phone: not that he knew you'd say yes but he could hope. 

“Mhm I see.” You hummed running your fingers through Peter’s hair. He grabbed his phone starting his music, looking at you in the mirror as you started sectioning his hair out. 

Admittedly the whole time he was locked on you. Every move you made he was locked on you, not wanting to miss a moment. His head lolled back as you ran; you painted the bleach on his roots. Earning soft little ‘stops’ and ‘hold your head up’ from you as he relaxed. Your eyes were fixed on his hair making sure you’re applying everything evenly and correctly. Peter held his phone up in the mirror snapping a quick photo of the two of you. The photo falling amongst the others he’s sneakily taken of you or the both of you that you had no clue about. 

“Okay you gotta sit for a while and then I’ll wash it, tone it, all that after.” You said sitting on the toilet lid next to him taking the gloves off, tossing them in the trash can. 

“This is nice.” 

Peter's comment threw you off, you two only really hung out in the context of having sex or it being mutually beneficial for both. You hated to admit you had more moments like this. 

“Yeah?” 

“Mhm no pressure, at least not for you. I still gotta make jokes and keep you entertained.” 

“Tragic.” You tsked resting your arm on the sink hand to head as your free hand started a 30 minute timer. 

“Come on, we have enough time to watch some of that Hulu cooking show you like.” Peter stood taking your hand in his walking to his room. You flopped down on Pete’s bed watching him sitting next to you. “Careful you’ll get bleach on your..”

“No no, I'm good sitting up.”

You nodded and laid your head on his lap watching The Bear, Pete’s fingers combing through your hair switching between watching the TV and you. 

Pete’s head was tilted back in the sink, a towel under his neck for comfort. “Stop looking down my shirt, Parker.” 

“I’m not…I’m not.” He lied, turning his eyes up to look at you as you shampooed after toning his hair. “Do I look fabulous?”

“Oh absolutely.” You laughed wrapping his hair up in a towel helping him sit up. Ruffling the towel through his hair you laughed watching it sticking up every which way. You blow dried it for him smiling and singing under your breath as you fixed his hair perfectly. 

“How do you feel Parker?” 

“Amazing..I look great thanks bashful.” He says turning around, capturing your hips in his hands. “Let's get dinner, and then we can come back here.” 

“I hate sex after dinner.” 

“No, no we come back here and finish the show.” 

“Oh I get to come back to the Theta house? And not have sex?” You fake a gasp of shock. 

“I know it’s a rare occurrence. This is a one time thing though, don’t let it get to ya head.” Pete taunts, hand rubbing your side grabbing his wallet off his dresser.

“Oh baby it has.” 

Peter knew and even in his playful disdain and stubborn personality you were slowly craving a spot out in his chest and making a home in it, and at this point he had no say in it.

___________

tags: @helloheyhihowdyheya @sincericida @moonyslove78 @a-lumos-in-the-nox @messymissy @adhdhufflepuff @toomanyfictionalboyfriends @ateliefloresdaprimavera @eevylynn

#tasm peter parker x reader #tasm andrew garfield #tasm!peter imagine #tasm peter parker #bambi writes #tasm fanfiction #tasm peter #tasm peter smut #tasm peter x you #tasm peter x reader #tasm!peter x reader #tasm peter parker imagine #tasm peter imagines #tasm peter fluff #andrew peter parker #tasm peter parker smut #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x reader #frat!peter

[sincericida]

hii hey !! i hope you’re having a good night :)) i love your blog and all the stuff you post, you also seem so lovely in general :)

sorry to bother you just i saw this ask about angsty fic recs you replied to and i was wondering since life isn’t going good atm and today suck if you had like any adoring tasm!peter fic recs? like him just being the crazy in love doting worshiping boyfriend we all love ? not like comfort fic, just him being needy and touchy and or like protective and a tiny bit possessive

okay that last part got outta hand a little sorry i just really want to smile today :C

Awwwww thank you, and good that you like my little corner! 🥰

Well, about the fluffy fics, I’ll leave here some of my favorite fluffy & smut & swag fanfics. Maybe you know some of them (if not all), but still, have fun!

"Secret Ingredient", "Lightning Bugs" "Blackout", "Thick and Thin" by @ficthots

"Happiness: and Other Frightening Concepts" by @rancidpancakebatter

"Glad You’re Home", "Field Trips-Not Just Educational", "Can I borrow your height?", "An Intruder (of sorts)" by @withahappyrefrain

"Peter to ice skating", "Peter Parker confesses his love" by @forever-rogue

"YOUR BIGGEST FAN" by @starpdfs

"Baby, don’t make me spell it out for you" by @p3mybeloved

"Wonderfully Bizarre (Mob! Peter Parker)" by @reidslovely

"YOUR GIRL- P.B PARKER", "STUDY BUDDY" by @lanadelreyscokewhor3

The "Symbiote: Mini Series" by @mrshipsmcgee

"Prototype" by @warrenwrites

"Daylight" by @webslingingslasher

"MOON RIVER" by @scorpiomother

"August slipped away" by @peterthepark

"Horror Night" by @forest-fics

"The Tour" by @literaila

"Four drinks I'm wasted" by @mortwig

"Claiming what is mine again" by @frost-queen

"'Til Kingdom Come" by @pedrito-friskito

"Warm Shower and Soft Kisses" by @bitchyycapricorn

"Committed to the Cause" by @ofbluesandyellows

The "Florence" Masterlist by @periprose

If you know of other fics of the genre, repose and value the writers of Tumblr. ❤️

#peter parker fanfic #tasm peter parker #peter parker #spider man #andrew garfield #the amazing spider man #tasm #tasm peter #andrew peter parker #fluffy #peter parker fluff #tasm peter fluff #tasm peter parker smut #peter parker smut #swag #peter parker swag #writers of tumblr #writers #repose and value the writers #ask box #ask anon #request #ask response #andrew peter #ask request #fanfic's compilation #sincericida

[venusianelf]

Game of Passion

Pairing: Frat/Fuckboy! TASM! Peter Parker x Fuckgirl! F! Reader

Genre: Smut

Summary: Being the two people on your college campus with the biggest reputations for sleeping around, it was inevitable for you two to run into each other.

Warnings: Alcohol Consumption, Weed Consumption, Swearing, Rough Sex (Spanking, Slapping, Choking, Degradation), Unprotected Sex (Use protection irl please), A couple uses of Y/N, Probably OOC! Peter, Reader and Peter are implied to be kind of assholes to their ex flings

Word Count: ~3,800

A/N: First fanfic I’ve written in a long while, and it’s smut of course lol. Might write more parts to this, not sure yet.

!!By clicking read more you are agreeing you are 18+!!

It hadn’t taken long for the rumors to spread about Peter Parker, all the girls would fawn over him and if they were lucky got to sleep with him, although never more than once. Similarly, it hadn’t taken long for rumors about you to spread. You had most of the men and women on campus wrapped around your finger. Even your best friend was desperate for more of you. You continually would laugh her suggestions off unless it made you potentially look more desirable for your new hit mark. In which case you’d kiss her dizzy and promptly drop her with a faux innocent smile as your newest hit would make their way over to you. Sure, you cared about her but you had promised yourself no feelings for anyone, even her. So you stuck to your rule of one and done.

Of course, from things you’d heard you had grown curious about Peter. Though you were more an attract than a chase kind of girlie. So sure you’d attend parties you knew he’d be at, hell even the ones out of the frat house he resided in. You’d caught a few glimpses of him before but other than a passing glance neither of you made a move. You had thought tonight would be no exception. 

You sat in your dorm room with your best friend as you both prepared for your night out at Parker’s frat house. “Come onnn Y/N, what’s it going to take for you to kiss me again?” She whined as she watched intently as you applied your makeup. You chuckled at her desperation before looking at her in the mirror. “I’ll kiss you again if the situation arises where it’s useful,” You tease as she huffs and rolls her eyes. “No fun,” She replies as she opens her phone and responds to some of her messages. “Uh-huh sure, you’ll live,” You replied returning your focus back on your makeup. Feeling satisfied with it you grabbed your setting spray and generously mist yourself before adjusting your hair to frame your face better.

“What do you think?” You asked as you turned to your best friend. She gave you a look over in your dress and whistled appreciatively. “You look delicious, wish I was the lucky hit tonight,” She replied as you laughed and rolled your eyes. “Another day maybe,” You replied with a wink at her and watched as she promptly blushed before turning back to her phone to avoid your gaze. “Seems a good enough time to head over, you ready?” She asked as she stood up and smoothed out the wrinkles of her dress from laying on your bed. “Sure am,” You replied as you grabbed your purse and phone.

As you entered the frat party you felt the hungry gazes of many partygoers on you, smiling to yourself you held your best friend's wrist in your grasp as you led her and yourself to the drinks. You gave a flirty smile to the boy pouring you two drinks as you recalled the time you had hooked up with him. He hadn’t been half bad and seemed gentlemanly but that wasn’t really your type. You thanked him for the drinks before you continued pulling your best friend outside to watch some of the partygoers play beer pong and other silly games. 

You chatted with her as you sipped your drink and surveyed the potential hits. Although as you did you felt the gaze of someone on you before turning to where you had felt it originate, locking gazes with one infamous Peter Parker. You noted his fluffy blond hair as you watched as his eyes raked over your body. You gave him an inviting smile before turning to your best friend to try to play hard to get. You watched out of the corner of your eye as he handed his drink to one of his friends and walked over to you, leaving whatever poor girl had previously been chatting with him alone. 

You looked up at him in faux surprise as he approached you. Your best friend paused her conversation to look between you to two before excusing herself as she usually did. “Y/N, right?” He asked as you nodded in reply. “Peter, right?” You mirrored as he nodded in return. “Seen you around here a few times,” He replied as you smiled and took a sip of your drink. “I do my best to get out,” You responded after a moment and he raised an eyebrow. “I think you mean get around,” He teased as you rolled your eyes. “As if you don’t do the same,” You taunted and clicked his tongue in response as he put his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “You got me there,” He replied as he looked you over.

“You smoke?” He asked as you raised an eyebrow. “I do,” You replied unsure of if he had meant nicotine or weed, not that it really mattered. He nodded in response. “Care to join me then?” He asked as you contemplated it for a moment. “Sure, why not,” You replied as you watched a smirk play on his lips at your response. “Follow me then,” He said as he grabbed your wrist and guided you through the party crowd upstairs. You had been upstairs before during some of your other hook-ups but it felt somehow different to be heading to Peter’s room.

He opened the door and gestured for you to head in, obliging, you entered and moved to sit on his bed. “This your usual way of getting girls into your bed?” You teased with a raised eyebrow as he scoffed at your comment. He entered after you and closed the door and locking it. “Not usually,” He replied as he rifled through his stash and began rolling a joint for you two. You noted the distinct smell of weed as you got your answer to your earlier question. “Oh? Am I special then?” You joked as he chuckled in response. “If it makes you feel better then sure,” He replied before finishing rolling the joint and taking a seat next to you on the bed. You rolled your eyes at his comment.

He offered you the joint which you happily took and placed between your lips as he held a lighter up and lit it for you. Taking a drag you breathed in it, pleasantly surprised at the higher quality of it. “Not bad,” You commented as you passed it to him. He chuckled at your response. “What? Did you expect me to smoke shit weed?” He taunted and took a hit as you shoved him slightly with your elbow. “A little, yeah,” You replied with a laugh as he gave you a playful glare. He placed a hand over his heart with mock hurt in his eyes. “Ow,” He teased as you rolled your eyes. “Yeah, yeah, gimme that back,” You replied as you went to grab the joint from him. He raised an eyebrow at that before pulling it up over your head, out of your reach. You glared at him before trying to grab it. 

As you made your move to grab it, he focused on the way you had to lean closer to him. His free hand moved to your hip as he pulled you into his lap. With his readjustment of you, you managed to grab the joint. Pulling it to your lips with a satisfied smirk. You took a hit but otherwise gave no indication of the effect being in his lap had on you. He watched as you breathed in the smoke, as you were about to blow it out he leaned forward and captured your lips. You gasped in surprise at his actions before feeling the open-mouthed kiss he placed on your lips. Realizing his intentions, you blew the smoke into his mouth as you two kissed. His hand that was not on your hip was quick to join the other. His grip squeezing your hips tightly as he kissed you hungrily. You felt your head dizzy as you grew breathless from the kiss.

When he pulled back to part from you, you both panted as his forehead rested on yours. One of his hands quickly moved to your hand that was holding the joint before grabbing it and placing it in an ashtray nearby. “Hey! I wasn’t done with that,” You huffed as he chuckled at your response. “Greedy little thing, aren’t you?” He teased as your eyes widened slightly in surprise at his words. You quickly recovered as you swatted at his chest. “No, you’re just a jerk,” You argued as he raised an eyebrow at you. “I’m the jerk?” He questioned as you glared at him and nodded. He chuckled before running his free hand through his hair. “I’ll show what a jerk looks like princess,” He replied, and before you could fully process his words he had pushed you onto the bed with your face down and ass up. You squeaked in surprise as he manhandled you. 

You craned your head back to glare at him. “You treat all your women like objects?” You taunted before squeaking again as you felt his hand collide with your ass as he spanked you. “No, just little sluts like you,” He replied as you bit back a moan from his degrading words. His gaze was trained on your face though and his eyebrow raised as he watched you pull your bottom lip between your teeth. “Figures you’d like that,” He teased as his hands hiked up the bottom of your dress before rubbing circles on where he had spanked you. You shook your head to try to fight back the blush that coated your cheeks. “No- No, I don’t,” You replied trying to deny your interest in his mean words. 

He tilted his head at that, and you moaned out in surprise as you felt his fingers prod at your entrance through your panties. “No? Your body seems to say differently,” He teased before looking down at where his hands touched you. He groaned at the sight of your drenched panties as he continued teasing you with his fingers. “You’re fucking soaked,” He muttered as his gaze was transfixed on how easily you had wet his fingers through your panties. Shoving your panties to the side he swore under his breath as he saw your glistening pussy. 

His digits had you trembling under his touch as he collected some of your wetness of his fingers before moving to circle your clit. He looked up at you as he watched you face twist in pleasure as your eyes shut at his contact. “Sh- Shit! Fuck, just like that,” You moaned out as he chuckled. You opened your eyes to glare at him with that but quickly yelped when he slapped your pussy. “Don’t take an attitude with me whore,” He growled as you nodded back at him with tears pricking your eyes. “Ah! Okay okay!” You conceded as he watched you almost predatorily. You began wiggling as his hand stayed cupping your sex but not touching you more than that. His eyes glanced down at you grinding yourself into his hand before he looked up at your face again.

You whined as you felt the loss of his warmth as he pulled his hand back. “You want more? Then ask nicely,” He replied with almost a stern edge to his voice. Your eyes focused on him as you mentally fought yourself over it. You knew he wouldn’t let it go if you said please but you also didn’t want him to stop. Shutting your eyes you decided to say it regardless. “Please Peter, touch me, please,” You begged as he tsk’d at you. You opened your eyes and took in his disapproving expression as he looked at you. “You can do better than that,” He replied as you pouted at his words. “C’mon, Peter please!” You whined before you yelped as he spanked your ass once again. “Okay okay! Please, you can do whatever you want to me just please touch me!” You begged as his eyes darkened at your words.  “That’s more like it,” He groaned before moving his fingers to your slit again.

Your eyes fluttered shut as you felt him touch you again. His fingers made expert circles over your clit as you started trembling again as little moans and whimpers left your lips. He worked you up before his fingers moved down from your clit to your entrance as whined at the loss of contact on your clit. Although your disappointment was quickly washed away as you felt his tongue lick a stripe through your slit. Two of his fingers pressed into your entrance as he moved to suck on your clit. You moaned at the intrusion before shoving your face in his pillows to attempt to muffle yourself. 

He sucked on your clit like a man starved as his fingers pressed further and further into you. Before long he began curling them trying to find the soft spongy spot inside of you. Your hips mindlessly jumped as he found the spot. You could feel him smirk against you as he continued hitting it over and over as you felt the coil in your stomach grow tighter and tighter. Your hands bunched up the sheets beneath you as you felt yourself draw closer and closer. “M’ gonna cum,” You whimpered as you turned your head to the side to make sure you were audible. “C’mon cum on my fingers princess,” He encouraged as he pulled back slightly before sucking on your clit with renewed vigor. You bit your lip hard as you cried out and your vision blacked out as white-hot pleasure coursed through you.

You shook as he fucked through your orgasm. As you came down, your hips attempted to jump away from his touch in overstimulation which he chuckled at as he pulled back from you. He flipped you over easily so you were on your back as you looked up at him dazedly and sated. “Look at you, one orgasm and all that sass is gone,” He cooed condescendingly as you blushed and rolled your head to the side to avoid his gaze. He tsk’d in response and grabbed your jaw with his clean and pulled you to look at him again before tapping his fingers that were covered in your juices to your lips. “Open up,” He commanded before your lips fell open in silent obedience. His fingers pressed against your tongue as you sucked on them and cleaned your slick off his digits. “Atta girl,” He groaned. 

Once his fingers were clean, he pulled them out of your mouth as you whined sightly at the loss. He chuckled at that. “Don’t worry princess, we’re not done yet,” He replied. He got to work pulling your dress over your head as you leaned up slightly to help him. Once off, he threw it somewhere across the room as his gaze fixated on your tits. One of his hands moved to circle your nipple as he moved to suck your other nipple into his mouth. His tongue lapped over it as he sucked, your back arching off his mattress as you gasped. Once he was satisfied he let go with a pop before kissing slightly above your tits as he sucked a hickey onto you. 

Normally, you were against most marks anyone wanted to leave on you but his teeth and lips on you had you gasping and whining for more instead. He smirked as he pulled back to admire his work on your chest before leaning down to add more. As he did, you didn’t notice his free hand moving to unzip his jeans and push them down. He pushed his boxers down enough for his cock to spring free and began pumping it as finished littering hickeys along your chest. When he pulled back, your eyes focused on his cock. It wasn’t too long where it would hurt you but it definitely was bigger than average and a bit girthier too. You sucked in a breath as you watched him pump himself and the weeping head of his cock as his pre-cum drooled out of his slit. 

He smirked at your doe-like eyes. “Like what you see?” He teased as your gaze quickly looked up to his eyes. You nodded needily at his question as he chuckled at your enthusiasm. “Need it, please please, Peter, please!” You begged for him without prompting causing him to bite his lip to bite back a groan at your neediness. He clicked his tongue in response. “Well since you asked so nicely,” He replied as he moved to settle between your thighs. He glanced down between you two before glancing over at the drawer of his bedside table. “Can you grab a condom for me princess?” He asked as you blinked up at him dazedly. “M’ on the pill,” You mumbled as he groaned at the implication. “You clean?” He asked as you nodded at his question. “Fuck, fine,” He replied as he lined the tip up with your entrance. 

He swiped it around a bit to gather some of your slick against him before he slowly pushed into you. You moaned and gasped out as your arms went to brace yourself on his forearms, nails digging into him. “Shit, you need to relax,” He muttered as he felt you squeeze the tip of him. He wet his fingers in his mouth before moving to circle your clit with them. You mewled at the touch but he felt you relax as he did. He continued his circles as he pushed further into you. You gasped and trembled under him as you felt fuller and fuller. Getting impatient, he gave a hard thrust up into you as he pushed him to be fully sheathed in you. You squeaked as he did your eyes shutting in the process. He stopped his touch on your clit as you whined. “Open your eyes,” He ordered but you kept your eyes closed as you tried to focus on the feeling of him filling you up so sweetly. 

You squeaked in surprise when you felt his palm connect with your cheek. Your eyes opening suddenly at the impact. “There you go,” He groaned as you pouted and rubbed your cheek where he had slapped you. “What? You want me to kiss it better?” He teased as you nodded at his words. He huffed a little but leaned down to place a light kiss on your cheek. A small smile flitted across your face before you felt him roughly pull out and thrust back up into you. An embarrassingly loud moan leaving your lips. His face settled to bury in your neck as he continued the pace. 

His hands moved to push your legs around his hips as he continued thrusting into you. One of his hands moving to draw circles on your clit as you moaned. You felt your body shaking once again as he built you back up to the edge. He pulled back to look down at you as he continued chasing his pleasure. Watching him with half-lidded eyes, you pawed at his free hand to pull it to your throat. He groaned as you settled his palm over your throat. “Fuck, you really are just a little slut, aren’t you?” He commented as you whined at his words. He placed more pressure against your throat at your needy whine, pulling a moan from you.

With the added sensation, you felt your orgasm rushing to you quicker and quicker. “You gonna cum for me princess?” He asked as he felt you clench his dick harder. You nodded frantically in response. “Go on then,” He encouraged as he tightened his grasp on your neck a little more. You choked on a moan as you felt your orgasm blind you with pleasure for a second time. You vaguely registered his groaning and swearing as you pulsed around him. Your limbs tingled with pleasure as the pressure on your throat prolonged your climax. As you came down from it, he moved his hand away from your throat to next to your head as his other hand rested on your hip to pull you closer to him as he chased his release. You mewled at the sensitivity before he leaned down and captured your lips in a messy kiss.

He groaned into your mouth as you felt his dick twitch before feeling him spill into you. He continued fucking you through his climax as you whined and mewled into his mouth. Once he came to a stop, he sighed before pulling out of you. Looking down, he groaned as he watched his seed spill out of you before moving to collapse beside you. You shut your eyes as you focused on calming your breath. You felt his eyes on you as he watched you, you peeked an eye open at him before making an annoyed noise. “What?” You asked before closing your eyes again. “Just making sure you’re still alive,” He chuckled and you mentally rolled your eyes.

“Uh huh, well your dick isn’t that good that it could kill,” You replied feeling more to your normal self. “Could’ve fooled me,” He laughed as you cringed remembering the way you had been so submissive to him a few moments prior. You shook your head at his words before opening your eyes and pushing yourself up on his bed. He watched you curiously as you looked around his room for your dress. Spotting it, you stood up on shaky legs to pick it up, adjusting your underwear which you both had been too caught up in to take off. Slipping the dress over your head and adjusting it to cover what you needed to you, you tsk’d as you saw the hickeys on your chest. 

You shot him a glare. “What?” He asked with his hands raised in mock surrender. “Hickeys? Really?” You asked with a tilt of your head. “You weren’t complaining when it happened,” He replied with a shrug and you rolled your eyes. “Whatever,” You replied. You checked your phone from your purse as he tucked himself away and made himself decent. You glanced back up at him, “Well see you around then,” You said as he nodded with a boyish grin. “Mhm, same time next week?” He teased as you chuckled. “We both know that’s not how this works,” You replied with a shake of your head. He shrugged in response. “True,” He replied as you unlocked his door and opened it. You looked back at him, “See you around Princess Parker,” You giggled as he rolled his eyes. “Last I checked princess was your name,” He replied as you stuck your tongue out at him teasingly before walking out of his room. 

You headed downstairs as you texted your best friend who quickly found you and promptly teased you about the hickeys you couldn’t fully hide. You promised to tell her the full story on the way back to your dorm. As you left though, you couldn’t help but wonder why your cheeks felt warmer at the thought of him.

#peter parker x reader #tasm! peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #tasm! peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #tasm! peter parker x y/n #peter parker imagine #tasm! peter parker imagine #peter parker fanfic #tasm! peter parker fanfic #marvel fanfic #tasm fanfic #tasm peter parker #peter parker #peter parker smut #tasm! peter parker smut #tasm peter parker smut #peter parker lemon #tasm! peter parker lemon #tasm peter parker lemon #marvel #tasm #marvel x reader #marvel smut #frat! peter parker #frat! tasm! peter parker #frat! tasm peter parker #tasm spiderman #spiderman x reader #frat! peter parker x reader

[poetsofmyheart]

my tears ricochet

chapter two. masterlist.

PAIRING: tasm!peter parker x fem!reader

WARNINGS: death, nightmares

WORD COUNT: 2,912

NOTES: anyone wanna be added to a tag list? i’ve gotten a few requests so lmk :)

“what a shame she went mad, you made her like that.” - mad woman, taylor swift

now

the night peter walked me back to my apartment, i couldn’t get a single minute of sleep. my mind raced with thoughts about gwen and harry osborn.

the man who killed gwen was peter’s best friend.

what the fuck?

i couldn’t get it out of my head. the thought played in my mind like a broken vhs tape. stuck on a constant loop with no idea how to fix it. endless questions filled my brain. peters words flooding and repeating over and over.

“he was never caught.”

how does something like that happen? why did he do it? was he trying to get revenge? why gwen?

my mind raced with these questions all night. i ran through all possible answers until finally, at around five in the morning, my mind shut off. though, my peaceful slumber didn’t last long because i began to dream about gwen.

again.

i often dream about what happened the night at the tower. the details of that night have never fully been disclosed unfortunately. i only know part of what happened simply because peter had told me through tears after the incident, when he came in through my window.

although, it doesn’t matter because i only ever dream about the worst part of it all. the part where gwen falls to her death.

these dreams began a few days after her funeral. when the realization of her really being gone had settled.

i dream about her at the top of that tower, holding on to spider-man’s webs. i dream about her calling out for help, calling out to peter. i dream about what she must’ve been feeling moments before hitting the pavement. the fear that loomed over her body like a ghost.

right as gwen is about to let go of peter’s web, i jolt awake. i feel like a bucket of cold water has been dumped on me.

the time on my desk reads 1:25 pm.

yikes.

i’m not awake for long when the questions that kept me awake for majority of the night come soaring back. i jump up from my bed and go straight for my desk. powering on my computer, i go to the search engine and search harry osborn. i read the top result.

HARRY OSBORN

SON OF NORMAN OSBORN, CEO OF OSCORP INDUSTRIES

oscorp industries sticks out to me. i remember that’s where gwen’s internship was located at. that’s where she used to work. everyday after school, i’d drop her off at oscrop before driving myself to my piano lessons. i’d pick her up after as well and we’d drive home together.

i scroll a little further down and click on the oscorp website. a fuzzy photo of harry loads on to my screen. an i.d. photo perhaps. the photo feels eerie, unsafe. he looks like a normal person.

knowing this perfectly normal looking man was capable of something so horrendous strikes me as bizzare. looking at him makes my blood boil and my vision turn red.

for another hour, i’m left researching harry osborn and oscorp industries. i look for clues that might help me find out what he’s up to these days, where he might be.

as i’m scrolling, i hear a tapping sound come from my window. the familiarity of it sends a wave of electricity through me.

i quickly x out of the tab i’m in and walk over to my window. when i open my curtains, i see a familiar masked hero waving at me. i roll my eyes and lift open the latch. “what do you want? and how’d you know which window was mine?

“i promised i’d tell you everything.” peter says, jumping into my room and ignoring the second part of my question. he takes a look around my room, which is currently a mess.

clothes scatter my floor. bras, panties, sleep shirts, and all of the above. old piano sheet music and coffee cups litter every corner, and my bed is unmade, the sheets hanging off to the side. i kick some undergarments under my bed before he can see them.

his eyes land on my closet. my closet is wide open, the photos i hung on the door forever ago are on full display. he walks over to my photo wall and his eyes linger on a specific polaroid of me and gwen.

the photo was taken at prom. me and gwen are holding each other close, gwen pressing a chaste kiss on my cheek while i smile widely at the camera. the memory feels distant, but not forgotten.

peter chuckles softly to himself. “feels like a lifetime ago.” he murmurs. his gloved finger traces over gwen’s face, then over mine.

i’m relived i can’t see his face. i’d pain me to see the heartbreak and anguish that’s most likely written all over his expression, threatening to spill over.

a few seconds pass by in silence before i clear my throat. peter turns around fast, almost like he’s forgotten he was in my room. “sorry.” he pulls of his mask, a sheepish smile plastered on his face.

he glances around my room a little longer, admiring some of the band posters on my wall. he’s about to go over to my computer when i remember my researching from just moments earlier. i manage to beat him to it and shut it off before the tabs can reopen.

peter is like an unattended child. he runs around, grabbing and inspecting everything he sees like a kid in a candy shop. not a single care in the world.

i’m closing my computer when i notice he’s gone.

then i hear the piano.

“seriously, peter?” he’s sitting at my piano which is placed directly in front of my couch, where a tv would normal sit.

“you still play?” he presses a few random keys, creating a cacophony of noise. the sound reverberates throughout my apartment. “yeah.” my response holds a hint of annoyance.

peter is well aware of my love for piano. in high school, gwen would drag peter to some of my concerts. it would come up in our conversations often as well. he’d talk about his love for photography while i talked about my love for piano.

i cringe as he continues to hit random notes. he drags his fingers up and down the keyboard then repeatedly hits the same key over and over again, smirking as he does. “jesus, can you stop that?” i make him scoot over so i’d have space to sit on the bench.

he reaches for my sheet music. “hmm,” he rifles through the slightly crumpled sheets. “fantasie?” my eyes widen and i rip the papers out of his grasp. “don’t touch that!” i reorganize the papers and put them back on my stand. i’m worried he’ll recognize the song.

“geez, sorry.” he holds his hands up in surrender, a sign he might not have noticed. he stands up from his spot on the bench and sits on the couch.

“play me something.”

“no.”

“why not?”

“because.”

“because why?” he raises a brow.

“because i don’t want to.”

“what about your audition. don’t you think you should practice with an audience?” it takes him a second to realize what he’s just said. his cheeks redden.

it takes me a minute to fully grasp on to what he said. “were you… spying on me yesterday?” my eyes narrow at him suspiciously.

he runs a gloved hand through his hair, a nervous tick of his i’m very familiar with. “i may or many not have accidentally overheard.” he admits.

“creeper.”

i try to hide my smile by looking down at the keyboard. i play a few random notes. mine are subtle and soft unlike peter’s obnoxious ones. they echo beautifully.

we’re quiet for a moment as we listen.

“okay, how about this.” peter says, sitting up straight. i look up at him. “how about you play me a song and i’ll tell you everything you want to know about gwen and harry.”

“or,” i stop playing. “you tell me everything i want to know, and then maybe,” i grin as i drag out the last word. “maybe i’ll play you a song.”

peter groans.

“hey, there was no specification about a song!” peter laughs, but it simmers away just as quickly as it appeared, his face becoming serious when he remembers why he’s at my apartment in the first place. “i’m sorry.” he says, frowning.

my smile fades.

“i’m sorry for not telling you anything about what happened. i just-” he shakes his head. “with everything going on and what happened to gwen, i couldn’t risk losing you too.”

something that hangs loosely in my chest tightens.

“gwen died because she knew too much about me. i couldn’t get you killed too. you knowing i’m spider-man is enough to put you in danger.”

“so, you kept me in the dark.”

peter nods. “that night, i tried so hard to keep gwen away.” he let’s out a humorless laugh as he recalls the tragic event. “for gods sake, i even webbed her to a car.”

as peter continues talking, i realize i’ve begun moving my fingers to the rhythm of fantasie.

one thing i’ve started doing to cope with gwen’s loss was of course piano, but when i’m away from the piano and need something to ease my mind, i move my fingers to the rhythm of the song.

“what about harry osborn? why’d he kill gwen?” i’m barely able to get the words out due to my throat tightening. i can’t bare to meet his gaze, so i continue to play with my hands. if peter notices, he doesn’t mention it.

“harry was sick. he developed an illness, the very same illness that killed his father. it was hereditary. he became this sick monster, he almost didn’t look like himself. everyone on the case calls him ‘the green goblin.’ he believed spiderman’s blood could cure him. i refused to give him blood, and when he found out i was spider-man, he used gwen as a way to get revenge on me.”

my suspicions from last night had been correct. it was revenge on peter.

gwen was the one who had to suffer the consequences.

“he took her and dropped her and i didn’t reach her on time.” peter’s eyes glaze over.

the full weight of what really happened to gwen lands on me harshly. the tears i tried so hard to push back fall freely down my cheeks and soon enough, peter’s words become overshadowed by the sound of fantasie. my need to block out the truth causes my fingers move against the keys the way i’ve grown to love. i forget about peter’s presence and for just a few minutes, it’s just me.

and gwen.

once i’m finished, i keep my eyes trained on the keyboard. and then i remember peter.

“whoa,” is all he says.

“i’m sorry.” i try to laugh off my embarrassment. my voice sounds nasally from the crying. peter’s intense gaze makes it all the more harder to recover from my outburst. “it’s just a thing i do. this was gwen’s favorite song on the piano and i can’t help but move my fingers to the rhythm when i think about her.”

peter looks caught off guard, but not from my sudden playing, but from the sudden tears on my face. before he can comment on it i ask, “so what are you going to do?”

peter’s concerned eyes turn confused. “about what?”

“how are you going to find harry osborn?”

“i’ve been trying to find him for the past two years.”

“and you haven’t found him yet?”

“i don’t need your help, if that’s what you’re implying.” peter stands up from his position on the couch, all softness gone and starts making his way back to my room. i follow behind him and scoff.

“yes, you clearly do. it’s been two years. don’t think it’s about time you had some help?” peter ignores me and pulls on his mask. he climbs through my window, turns to me and says, “i’m not going to put you in danger the same way i did to gwen.”

then he’s gone.

—

a few days go by before i see peter again. except this time, i pay him a visit.

trying to get in contact with peter was a lot harder than it seemed. at some point in the last two years he’s changed his phone number, the one in my phone outdated.

i am also not in contact with any of my high school peers so there is no way for me to ask around for his number.

so i do what i do best.

i google him.

it doesn’t take me long to find peter because he’s the first result among the other one million peter parkers.

he’s a well accomplished photographer for the daily bugle. according to google, his most recent work consists of spider-man photographs.

shocker.

unfortunately, the daily bugle does not share insiders phone numbers which means i still have no way of contacting peter.

this left me with one option left.

i go to the daily bugle myself.

having been to the daily bugle myself before (for a high school field trip weirdly enough), i’m already well aware that visitors, aside from family, are not allowed into the building.

so i pretend to be peter’s wife.

before i reach the daily bugle, i make a quick stop at the deli near by. i order a sandwich, which i use as a prop. my excuse being that peter forgot his lunch.

“mrs. parker, wife of peter parker.” i say to the woman at the front desk. she eyes me suspiciously for a minute then nods. “third floor.” she says, and hands me a visitors badge.

i take the elevator and when the doors open, i meet eyes with the famous james jameson. he doesn’t say anything at first, peering down at my badge and narrowing his eyes. “mrs. parker?” he says, eventually.

“yes! is my husband peter around? he forgot his lunch.” i hold up the brown paper bag. hilariously, he stands there shocked. mouth wide open like a gaping fish.

“uh- yes. he’s just down the hall.”

“great.” he stops me before i can leave.

“i’m sorry-” he shakes his head with a laugh. “peter parker, right? he’s your husband?” he says this like it’s the most impossible thing in the world.

i nod.

before he can continue, i mumble out a thank you and walk down the hall as directed. when i reach the end, i’m met with a room full of cubicles, all the same grey, dull design.

i scan the room for a minute, and when i find peter’s eyes, his are already on me. his cubicle is tucked by the corner on the left side.

i wave and walk towards him, a hint of a smirk playing at my lips. when i reach him, he’s giving me a glare so deadly it makes hot liquid pour all over my body.

“what are you doing here?” he whispers, an edge to his voice. “you forgot your lunch.” i set the bag on his desk. his face contorts in confusion.

“also, we need to talk. it’s important.” before he can respond, i pull him up from his desk and drag him to the women’s bathroom. i lock the door behind us.

“jesus christ, y/n. someone’s gonna think i’m trying to get a quickie in on the job.”

“not if you shut up and let me talk.”

peter rolls his eyes. when he looks down at my badge, his eyes widen. “mrs. parker?” he sputters out, a blush creeping up on his cheeks.

“it’s was the only way to get in.”

“and what was so important that you needed to get in?”

ever since peter filled me in on the night of gwen’s death, i decided to use my new knowledge on the subject to conduct my own investigation. i find out about electro and harry’s assistant, felicia hardy, who i believe would be a great help in our search.

“because i know about electro and felicia hardy.”

peter looks distraught at the mention of electro and felicia. it’s not long before his shock quickly dissipates into anger. “i thought i said i didn’t need your help.”

“but you do, peter!” i fling my arms around, my anger building up rapidly, cheeks burning. “gwen was my best friend! my confidant, and i’m not going to rest until i find the bastard that killed her. i’m going to do it with or without your help, so why don’t you do yourself a favor and accept that you need my help. it’s been two years for fucks sake.”

peter blinks.

he seems to really think about it for a second. his eyes looking me up and down, then scanning my face. finally he begrudgingly says, “fine.”

my eyes light up a smidge.

“but the second things start going south, you’re out. got it?”

“got it.”

“this stays between us. there can’t be any secrets between us or else it’ll all go to shit. promise me you won’t keep anything from me.”

i hold out my pinky. “i promise.”

except i’ve already broken that promise because i’ve failed to mention the threatening letters in my mailbox.

#emma stone #marvel #peter parker #spiderman #tasm 2 #tasm andrew garfield #tasm peter parker #tasm peter parker smut #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter x y/n #tasm!peter imagine #tasm peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x you #andrew peter parker #andrew garfield x reader #andrew garfield smut #spiderman fanfiction #spider man #peter parker smut #tasm peter parker angst #peter parker angst #peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfiction #tasm fanfiction #fanfic #tasm!peter fluff #tasm!peter one shot #andrew garfield #tasm #harry osborn

[jin0]

LOVESICK TEACHER [TASM!Peter Parker]

Summary : Peter lost you over ten years ago. Well, let's thank your niece, his favorite student, because here you are today, presenting your job to his class.

Pairing : Elementary teacher!Peter Parker X Reader

Warnings : 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI, smut, fluff, angst, peter being stupid (when do i ever write him smart...), soulmate trope kinda, both are a little toxic lets be real, gwen in the middle but she's best girl so get off her dick and be nice, i kinda followed andrew and emma's story with that one too, creampie, pet names (pumpkin, sweetheart, baby), slight mentions of manhandling, use of webs, kinda exhibition because they do intimate stuff in the street, overstimulation, kinda subby peter, kinda dom reader, lots of cum too, slight titty worship, slight pussy job, lots of kisses and soft touches.

A/N : another one for you birdie ✨ i kinda LOVED writing that one, missed writing for this idiot 🙈

Peter Parker could never really qualify as an idiot, but in that moment, he had never felt more stupid in his life.

It all matched perfectly and maybe it was the delusion that pushed him to ignore the signs but fuck, they were screaming at him now and he couldn’t just act like they weren’t there, like you weren’t there. It had been an entire decade of longing and confusion, and now, you were here, in front of him. Him and his entire class of little kids.

“Hi, I’m here with Mimi and I’m going to present my job as a lawyer.” You said, a tender smile on your face.

All the students cheered for you, some throwing looks at ‘Mimi', the little girl you were here for. Peter couldn’t hear any of the sounds around him, completely deaf to anything that wasn’t your voice. It echoed around him, sounding so distant yet close, as if coming out of his own head. It was a familiar feeling, but it never was this vivid before, not even in his wildest dreams or memory. He had dreamt of hearing your voice again, not in his head or memories this time. It had become so recurrent that the default voice for his memories or conscience was yours, even after all these years of not seeing each other.

You started presenting yourself and what you did on the daily to the weirdly attentive children. The teacher knew Mimi probably had something to do with it, the little girl so eerily similar to you. Now that he thought about it, he had been ignoring all the tells that slammed in his face. From her family name to her personality, she was like you, in so many ways it made him dizzy. She was like a tiny copy of you, a copy that seemed to look like you and you only, no one else.

He had been staring at your face with this stunned and pained look, as if seeing you was physically painful to the man, as if the vision of you was stabbing him repeatedly. A part of him knew you weren’t the one holding the knife in this situation, he was. He’d been holding it for a decade, waiting for the moment to hurt himself further, hurting himself until he truly felt the pain. He just didn’t expect to feel the pain in question in the middle of his class, with literal children watching.

The positive element here was that the kids seemed to be very interested in your job, this was definitely due to your way of explaining it. You knew how to make a topic fun for kids, you always did. From your facial expressions to your words, all of it was fun, you were the fun one. Even back in , you had been the one to always know where and when fun things would happen.

Peter never understood how you two ended up mixing together, when your crowds seemed to be so different.

Ah… Right… He knew how. It was stupid too.

You had figured out his secret identity when he jumped into your apartment thinking to was his. You helped him fix his wounds and from then on, helped in managing life and his nightly activities.

Until the hurricane came. Hurricane Gwen Stacy.

“Mr. Parker ?”

The man’s entire body jolted at the sudden voice and slight tug of his pants. Looking down, he found little Mimi smiling up at him with a proud smile on her face. That fucking smile, even that was the same. A slight hint of mischief mixed with all the love and innocence in the world. No, not innocence, hope. The smile he recognized it from you, a smile that you always had whenever he felt like giving up on the spider part of him. You had been his little ray of hope and one of his student was carrying the mantle.

He crouched to reach her level, smiling tenderly at her despite the little knot forming in the pit of his stomach at the idea of confronting the little girl, a child you had with someone else.

Like she always did, her little hands reached for his face to hold it still, she didn’t like it much whenever she was talking and the person wasn’t looking at her. Just like you. Her pupils were dilated in excitement and he could hear her heartbeat thumping inside her little chest.

“Mr. Parker, she’s finished, you gotta meet her now ! She’s real fun, just like me !” Declared the little girl, practically dragging her teach face first towards the source of her pride.

The man chuckled, standing up and handing the little girl his hand to let himself be guided towards you. Each step he took made him feel both heavier and lighter. The feeling of seeing you again brought him to cloud nine but the anxiety of your reaction buried him under the weight of the years that separated you both.

“Titi look ! It’s him ! Mr. Parker !” Presented Mimi, jumping into your arms to be carried, which you did.

“I know love, he’s right there, I can see him.” You smiled, kissing her forehead and making funny faces at her.

“I know ! But your eyes are bad, so I was making sure !” She responded honestly, looking at you as if it was the most obvious thing ever.

You laughed to yourself and Peter tried not to laugh and collapse to the floor at the same time. More than her name, face and mannerism, she also had your sarcasm. The resemblance was undeniable now, it was too late to run away or act blind. Two versions of you were cornering him, one, adorable as a button and the other, as beautiful as and mesmerizing as an angel fallen from the sky.

Her hands extended towards him, she was taking a step to make this a little less awkward, he knew it, that was what you always did.

“Hi, I’m Mimi’s aunt, nice to meet you.” You said, in your steadiest voice.

A sudden weight lifted off of Peter’s shoulders at your words. Her aunt. Not her mother, but the her aunt. He felt such relief in that moment, he could’ve jumped in joy, but refrained from rejoicing too fast, because you were acting like you didn’t know him, and that one hurt like hell. Even more than the possibility of you having a child with someone else.

Extending his hand to hold yours, he got lost in the feeling of your warm skin, it felt good, familiar, like home. His thumb caressed your skin as subtlety as he could but the tingling sensation spreading through him at the contact made it impossible to detach himself from you. He wanted more, he wanted to hug you tight, so tight that your only solution would be to live in his skin. He was going mental, that was evident, but fuck, he had missed you, all of you.

“Mr. Parker ?”

This time, it was your voice that pulled him out of his thoughts. Your head was tilted to the side with a slight grin, the kind that said ‘I don’t mind, take your time’. She was inviting him to take his time and reminisce. Why ? Why was she allowing him this much ? She just made it more painful to let go.

“Sorry…” He muttered, pulling his arm back slowly. Your touch burnt his skin softly, leaving behind nothing but longing and nostalgia. “So, Mimi’s Aunt right ?”

“Yes.” You smiled tenderly, looking down on the little girl fussing to get down. You put her down, letting her run off to her friends. “Her parents had to go abroad for work so I’m subbing for them. The lil’ pumpkin doesn’t seem too bothered by it so we’re having a good time together. But don’t worry, they’ll be back in a few hours, you won’t have to deal with me anymore.”

The pang in his chest was back. You’d be gone soon, disappearing out into the world again and reminding him how much he missed you. The idea of loosing you again was unbearable, his entire body screaming for him to move and do something. He needed to take a step towards you, one that would either give him closure or bring you back in his life.

"You're gone so soon ? Poor Mimi, I bet she's wasn't the happiest about the news."

"She doesn't know and please don't tell her, she'll chase me with a broom. She might be small but she manages to hold it perfectly."

"Don't worry about it. I see she enjoys your company, she talks about you every day. You're like her own Spiderman."

"How ironic..." He heard you mutter under your breath.

The deep parts of him he had tried to hide for years after you were gone just couldn’t be kept hidden anymore, not when you were right there and soon you wouldn’t be. So Peter did what his mind told him, he took a step towards you.

“Can we talk ?”

The question sounded so desperate, it was as if his life depended on whatever discussion he had in mind. That desperation to discuss things, to put words over whatever you were feeling before it was too late, you knew it better than anyone. You’d gone through it first, and now it was his turn.

You could be petty, god you wanted to. You wanted to make him feel the same kind of anger and sadness knowing him had you go through. You wanted him to be as desperate as you were to talk and grab your chance before it slipped out. You wanted him to have that chance and you wanted to be the one to rip it out of his hands, leaving him with nothing. But you couldn’t .

You could’ve stood your ground and said no, getting your own personal revenge on him. But what was the point ? It wouldn’t make you feel good and it was useless. You’d been through it and managed to sort your shit out. You walked out of that cave and saw the ‘light’. Now you were fine, you didn’t need anymore revenge or closure. And if he needed it, then you didn’t mind giving it to him. Because no matter how much he hurt you, no matter how much pain he had you go through, he was still your Peter. The clumsy idiot who could save an entire building but would lose his mind if his favorite scientist looked at him.

“Yes Pete. We can talk.” Your smile was so tender, so sweet, he wanted to drop to his knees and let himself be buried by the shame he felt. You took a step towards him, entering his personal space and letting your scent drown him in. “I’ll be waiting for you after class, just let me drop Mimi off first.”

He couldn’t speak, could barely move, but found the strength to nod, his eyes tightly shut. He had never considered the impact of your absence on his mind and body. There was something about your presence that was addictive, soothing and just made everything feel like home. From your touch to your scent, you brought out the best of him, pulled him out of his shell gently and guided him through the fucked up world he had to deal with.

Without you or anything to distract him from thinking about your absence, he was back to square one. Angry, cold, distant, absent. Once the spring had passed, he was back to his winter, back to reality, the reality that he had list you without even noticing and for a while. You had disappeared out of his life and he couldn’t avoid the withdrawal by distracting himself anymore, not when his place of refuge had left with you.

What a shitty idea to share your interest with your best friend. Now he was stuck desperately trying to find comfort in the things that he had enjoyed before you but couldn’t anymore. How could he when all of these things, he had shared with you and could only link to you now ? You left and took everything that he owned and was with you.

~

The rest if the day felt like the longest of his life, lasting hours and hours before he could finally say goodbye to his students.

He was anxious, trembling uncontrollably and biting his lip in anticipation. The knot in his stomach just kept growing, taking up more space and making his entire body dependent on tiny bits of positive affirmations to reassure himself.

“Mr. Parker ?”

He jumped for the hundredth time today, looking down towards the little girl who had started this trainwreck of a day.

“Yes Mimi ? Do you need something ?” He asked tenderly, or at least, as much as he could.

The little girl shook her head, signaling for him to get to her level. He smiled honestly, this little truly was like you. He loved her attitude, confidence and certainty in her words all cramped up in a pocket size human.

“Are you in love for my Titi ?”

If he had anything in his mouth, he would’ve chocked on the spot, but instead he choked on air. Coughing loudly and fanning his cherry colored face, he looked at the child in false confusion.

“W-Why would you ask that pumpkin ?”

“Well, you look at her like daddy looks at mommy. And also, you look like Dorothy’s shoes, all red and shiny. Are you okay ?”

Dorothy, from the Wizard of Oz. That reference he hadn’t expected to hear it again. Not since highschool, when you used to make fun of him by calling him a Dorothy ‘s shoes colored weirdo. He had a tendency to blush at everything and she would make fun of him for it. At the time, he swore up and down that he hated it, but fuck. He needed her to call him that again, like she used to. He wanted her to make fun of him again.

He chuckled, caressing the child’s cheeks and pinching them, make her giggle and squirm in fake disapproval. She wrapped her little arms around his neck and he lifted her up, enjoying her loud squeals of happiness. He wasn't going to lie, she was his favorite student and she knew it.

"Mimi, i can't carry you everywhere you know ?" He chuckled, arranging her hair.

"Yeah you can ! My Titi does it, even at her work when she's very busy !"

"I'm not her thought and i'll make other students sad if i only carry you."

"It's okay, I'm fine with that." She smiled, making him laugh out loud. Yeah, she was exactly like you.

Catching his breath, he ran a hand through his hand before looking down at the curious little girl.

"I’m okay pumpkin, just a little warm. Now, about your aunt-“

“What about me ?”

Peter was very close to jumping out of his own skin when your voice appeared behind him. But the true surprise was your appearance. When he saw you, he suddenly felt like a highschooler again. After ten years of not knowing where you were, you still looked and dressed the same. It could be felt that morning but could be seen in that moment.

You always looked so different when you dressed fancy or professional, he was always left speechless, but nothing could beat your usual look, the one that maintained the memory of you as a teenager, kept you as you. The you that he knew the best and that knew him when he was still worth it, or so he said.

You and your little dress felt like a breeze of fresh air, blowing through his classroom with your natural glow. You were like the wind during one of these very hot summer nights, he had prayed for you to come and while in the back of his head he lost the hope of seeing you, when you eventually showed, he just couldn’t help the smile on his face.

“Titi in a dress ! Titi’s wearing a dress ! I can even see your knees Titi!” Squealed the little girl, pointing at her aunt’s exposed knees.

She twirled around her as soon as Peter let her down and jumped in joy when you did the same, showing how flowy your dress was.

Peter was lucky that you were too busy with your niece to look at him because he couldn’t handle what was going on in front of him. Maybe he was stupid or maybe he was easy, he didn’t know and quite frankly didn’t care. There was something about seeing you in a dress that just made his inside melt. But the main issue wasn’t there, he knew this dress because he had bought it for you. It was a birthday present, the last birthday you both celebrated together, like your tradition stated, before you both lost each other.

“You’re zoning out again Mr. Parker. And you’re staring too.”

He tried to pull himself together and get back to the real world, but when his eyes crossed yours, he just couldn’t focus on anything but you. He’d equate it to nostalgia and the fact that he was seeing you again for the first time in ten years, but there was more, he knew it and clearly couldn’t hide it anymore, he had for ten years plus.

“Titi, he was all red, maybe he’s sick !” Exclaimed the child holding onto the hem of your dress

“You think ? That’s not good. We can’t let your favorite teacher be sick, can we Mimi ?” You crouched down to look at her in the eyes, trying not to laugh.

“No no no ! Sick people have to get better! With sleep and tea, and lots of honey too! To make it taste all sweet !” She responded, smiling wide while trying to remember all the technics her mother had taught her to get better.

You knew Peter, and the Spider hero was still active. He wasn’t back into his normal human body meaning he still healed very fast and simply couldn’t get sick. You knew all of this because he told you himself and even allowed you to read his father’s journal explaining the changes in his body. And if everything had stayed the same in ten years, which seemed to be the case from what you saw in the news, he still couldn’t. He probably used his sick days to rest or go out.

Nonetheless, Peter couldn’t get sick, you both knew this fact. A part of you, the part you tried to bury after high school, was hopeful, dreaming that the red covering his cheeks was due to you and not some super disease who had eventually managed to get him. You wished he’d blush because he saw you in the dress he bought you and you promised to only wear when time would be right. It wasn’t a particularly fancy dress, more of a simple milkmaid dress, but it was yours because he had gifted it to you and you wanted to honor it.

The dress was important and so was his opinion of you. Maybe that was the reason why it was so easy for your heart to break because of him. His opinion was too important and you understood exactly how much when his eyes started looking at Gwen Stacy as if she was the only one in the world to ever breath.

You weren’t replaced, your existence was simply erased when she appeared in his life.

Shaking your head suddenly, you ignored all the unwanted thoughts dancing around in your head and you turned towards your niece, who luckily, was still busy counting the healing methods on her hands. Grabbing her hand, you smiled wide.

“Hey, pumpkin, I’ve got to take you home, your parents are going to be home soon and we gotta surprise them okay ?”

“Okay ! Are we making them a surprise cake ? I wanna make a surprise cake Titi !”

“I already made it baby, but we can make something else later, okay ? But we should leave, Mister Parker has to go home to get better.” You said, reminding the little girl of her teacher’s fever.

She looked to him before looking up at you and nodding in agreement. Peter stayed quiet through the whole discussion, happy to be able to witness you both together, enjoying the dynamic between you both. He tried to keep in his smile but it was difficult to do so, past high school and college fantasies surfacing all over again and flooding his mind quickly. He pushed them to the side just enough to be able to wave at the both of you as you walked away from him.

~

When you came back to the school later, after dropping Mimi off and dodging your sister’s questions about you wearing your ‘special dress’, you found Peter sitting by the entryway to the school, hos skateboard in hand. Some things never changed.

When he noticed you, you saw this glint in his eyes, the one he had whenever he would discover something new for his suit or whenever he’d see her. It was easy to recognize because he used to have it whenever you would appear somewhere. You wanted to slap your own thoughts, you hated every single one of them for making you feel this way. You had spent so long learning how to be happy for Peter and you were, but your heart had other plans. The moment you saw him, you started doubted yourself and whether or not you hat truly moved on. Words were easy to say when the main focus of said words was nowhere to be found.

"So... elementary teacher huh ?"

He stayed silent for a few seconds before looking down.

"You told me i was good with kids." He took a pause a'd looked up. "Lawyer ?"

"You told me I was great at arguing." You chuckled. "Mimi likes you."

He wanted to smile at the mention of the little girl but couldn't.

"Yeah, i like the little pumpkin too."

"You call her like you used to call me."

"Yup. She reminded me of you, i just never made the connection. Did you know i was her teacher ?"

You shook your head as a response.

"No... I wanted to think it was you but i thought that would be too far fetched."

Silence took over again a'd you were back to square one, him staring and you deep in your thoughts. It felt good to be seen again by him. You wished you could say you didn’t need it but a part of you was still heavily dependent on him, and that made you hate him a little bit every passing second. You were better than that, stronger too, so much stronger. But you felt this unhealthy need to be desired by him, to be craved, and you wouldn’t be okay with this kinds of emotions if he wasn’t the one responsible for them.

You were so deep in your thoughts that you hadn’t noticed him walking up to you. He was hesitant, waiting for you to push him away, which he feels would’ve been deserved. Instead, you stayed still, not welcoming him, staring into him and digging holes into his soul. It was painful, humiliating too, you weren’t hiding like he was, but you weren’t open to him either. It was a dangerous combination, the kind that made him want to drop to his knees and apologizing straight away.

When his fingers brushed your forearms, caressing your skin slowly and as tenderly as he could, his own fingertips started to feel tingly, electric. A sensation of fulfillment, like his body was being charged with something unknown. His touch, initially as delicate as a feather, pushed into your skin, desperately trying to pull out more of that electricity. His hands ran up your exposed arms and held onto you tighter. He couldn’t let you go, not when this was what you made him feel, even after ten years apart.

“Pumpkin… Look at me, please…” His voice sounded higher and more desperate than you had ever heard coming from him.

You were still half out of it but you could feel it too, the electricity. Now, while his seemed to burn through you, the one coming from you was freezing. Your entire body burning cold under his touch. Was it your body’s way of rejecting him ? Telling him that you didn’t forgive him ? That you were pissed ? That had to be the biggest joke of the day considering the fact that in order to forgive, you had to consider that you had been wronged and at no moment had you ever felt like Peter had wronged. Or did you ? You couldn’t ignore the tiny parts of your brain and heart which seemed to get along when it came to this, agreeing that you got to be as petty as you want towards him.

You wanted to pull away and he felt it, tightening his arms around your biceps and pulling you to his chest. Had he been breathing this loud this whole time ? You could hear him from so close, inhaling and exhaling louder and louder.

“Peter…”

“No. Please… No…” He knew from you slightly pleading and saddened tone, that you were going to ask him to let you go. He couldn’t.

“I came here to talk with you Peter.” You sighed, letting him pull you even closer.

“I know. Fuck…” His finger detached themselves from you, one by one. It felt slow but was quicker than what you thought.

He looked at you, pleading with his eyes, begging for an opening, explanations, anything. He wasn’t just desperate, he needed this. He was being selfish, and childish, but he couldn’t just ignore it. After a decade of refraining it all, he couldn’t wait a second longer.

You watched him drop his bag and run his hands over his face. You stayed quite while he attempted to conceal the scream he let out. He backed up, pacing in front of the door, with a distressed look on his face.

“Peter…” You tried, stopped by him suddenly turning to face you.

“Ten years. Ten fucking years without you.” He declared, looking at you with what resembled anger. “Do you know how fucking dead inside your absence made me feel ? How each day was killing me a little more ?”

You wished you could’ve said something inspiration or dramatic, like in the movies. Instead, you chuckled, turning away from him. You could feel the anger rising and this time, it wasn’t just little parts of you.

“My absence was killing you huh Peter ? But when I was there it literally felt like I wasn’t ?”

“So you just fucking leave ? You leave me behind like I don’t matter ?” He responded, his voice raising in the heat of the moment.

“So just like you did !” You screamed, your voice cutting through the air and resonating in his head.

It was the first time he’d ever truly seen you scream in anger because of him. There was something murderous in the way you were looking at him right now, like he had never made you feel anything positive, anything good. You were looking at him like an enemy and it was killing him. Because he knew, he had messed up your friendship and anything more that could’ve happened but he couldn’t help being made at you for not giving him a proper chance. If not for him or you, for the two kids who used to joke about how they’d get married after college.

You wanted things to be civil, you wanted this to be a discussion, but it was so hard to tame the younger you who had spent years screaming inside, begging for him to feel just as bad as you did. You covered your face, breathing in and out, trying to regain your composure. You could feel him get closer to you and while you wanted to push him away this time, you couldn’t . You were too tired for this. One singular scream had exhausted you, but it wasn’t enough.

“I wish I could hate you Peter for making me feel like shit for an entire decade, even when you weren’t even there.” You began, smiling sadly while he tried not to cry. “Do you know how it feels to see your best friend fall in love for someone else ? For a girl as awesome as Gwen Stacy ? I didn’t , but I learned. Because that’s how it went. And I wished that it wouldn’t change anything between us, but when you love Peter, you love with everything you have. I had to learn that I got lucky when you showed me how much I mattered to you because you loved me with every good feeling you had in you. And I couldn’t be happier knowing that Gwen got to feel this. I just wish I would’ve known that it meant you wouldn’t have anymore space for me. That’s the story Peter. That’s us.”

If the world was caving under his feet, he probably wouldn’t feel it. While you felt a weight being lifted off of your shoulders, he just felt crushed under the guilt. That was the power you had on him, the kind he tried to forget or ignore. He was a fucking moron, and had been for years. Ignoring the spider, his senses and basic logic, he could feel how much pain you felt, had to go through because of him. Whatever you felt, he could feel it, good or bad. And he had been able to for years. It was a you and him thing, freaky in the eyes of others but normal for you both.

Walking towards you, his hands slowly moved towards your face, delicately holding onto it, caressing your flexed jaw muscles and trying to unclench it for you. He couldn’t stand seeing you, his bubble of light and happiness so angry and hurt, he just couldn’t. His hands were cold suddenly and your face warm, like the sun. He could feel the humidity under his skin, he made you cry. He lifted your face to look at him and saw it. Your beautiful eyes, reddened by tears.

“No, no, no, pumpkin please… Don’t cry… Please, I’m begging you…” He pleaded, trying to keep his voice calm despite wanting to scream at the top of his lungs. “I’m sorry… Please, love… I’m sorry sweetheart… Please don’t cry, you… You can’t… You have to smile and be happy, the happiest in the world…”

You scoffed, pushing him away with a faint smile. You wiped your face and sniffed loudly before turning towards him with the same forced smile he hated.

“I don’t want your apology Peter… God, I’m happy for you. You deserve to be with someone like Gwen, she’s incredible.”

“Stop. Don’t say that. I don’t want you to be happy for me. I want you to hate me.” He sighed, looking away.

“Would that be easier for you ?” You asked, genuinely trying to make it easier for him.

“Fuck, can you stop thinking about me !? It has to be easier for you ! You matter, I don’t !” He exclaimed, trying to pull you out of this state you were in. “I want you to hate me because that’s what would be right ! I broke your heart and you wish me the best with a girl I can’t look at without remember just how impossible it is for me to love her as much as I love you !”

In that moment, you felt the air in your lungs, disappear, sucked out by his words. You wanted to believe, you and all the versions you went through before now. The past yous who tried so hard to believe that they’d be okay not hearing about him or seeing him happy with another. They were all jumping in joy, all but one, the you from now. That you had seen all the delusion and false hope and she couldn’t let herself be fooled.

“Peter…” You started, but were stopped by his eyes, warning you silently, that if you spoke a single word, he’d loose it.

He marched towards you, pulled you by the arm to have his chest against yours. He could feel your heartbeat and just how much you were shaking, not in fear but anxiety. You were waiting for the other shoe to drop.

His palm was rough on your skin, but so warm, it felt like the rays of sun that would hit as soon as you’d wake up. They burnt your eyes a little but they felt good after a little. That was Peter, burning like the Sun. You could feel how hard he was trying to give you time, to wait for you to recognize his touch and all the love that was flowing through it, but you couldn’t, not when so much time had passed.

“Don’t even fucking try and stop me from saying whatever it is that I want to say. It’s been ten years without you, and definitely more years of refrained feelings. You always told me to live a life with no regrets and I tried but that’s fucking hard when the biggest regret in my life is letting you go and every passing day is a reminder of that. Even my favorite student turned out to be a punishment for letting you go. All of you lost over temporary happiness.”

“You don’t mean that Peter.” You scoffed, taking his hands off of your face and walking away. His eyes followed your every step, desperately trying to keep up. He recused to lose sight of you again.

"Why is it so hard to believe that i needed you ?! That i couldn't go one without you ?!"

“Because when I was there, Peter, you made it clear that you couldn’t love the both of us. It was either your best friend or your girlfriend and I know you. You couldn’t make that decision and act on it without feeling like shit, so I did it for you, because that’s what a best friend does. I did what would be right for the three of us. Every second we’d spend together after you met her was about Gwen. How pretty she was, how smart she was, how brave she was. Even helping you with your Spiderman activities had become a thing for the both of us. It doesn’t take a genius to get the memo Peter.”

“And from that… From that you thought you had to leave ?”

“I didn’t just leave Peter. You made me feel like an intruder, and I love you Buddy, but I’m not going to stick myself into an uncomfortable situation just because you don’t want to lose me or whatever. Even for you, I refuse to force myself into a painful situation to make you happy, you might be worth it, but whichever part of myself I would’ve lost wouldn’t be.”

Every word you said felt a little more painful but necessary to Peter. He needed to hear this, all of it. He wished things would be different, these words would be said in any other context, but it had to happen that way. He hadn’t been the only one hurting for all this time, you’d been hurting too and for far longer. He hated the idea of bringing you pain and now that things started to clear, he knew that if he had been given the opportunity to choose, he would’ve chosen to protect you too.

“I’m sorry pumpkin… So, so, so sorry… I wish I could do or say something to make myself look better but fuck… I failed on all accounts. As your best friend and everything else. You did what I never would’ve had the balls to do and it hurts… Because I let you believe that I would’ve chosen her over you when it would always be you… Even in my wildest dreams or without me getting to choose, it’s you. And I’m sorry it took me you being gone for noticing. I’m sorry…” He declared, letting out all the shit he wished he would’ve said when he started to realize.

You walked back in front of the entry doors, sitting down and crossing your legs. The elementary teacher let out a heavy sigh before meeting you on the floor. It felt just like old times, having you both seating on the floor next to each other, doing nothing much but being there for the other. It was as silent as it used to be, adding the faint wall you had built between you both. He tried to let it be, but Peter Parker just couldn’t do that, not even ten years after.

He laid his head on your lap, nuzzling against your skin and hiding his face into the fabric of your dress. You stayed still, watching him fully lay on the pavement and turn to face your stomach. Your eyes crossed his, the man casting you a quick glance and a grin before pushing his nose into your belly. You didn’t budge, welcomed him despite the deep desire to reject him. Desire was the funniest word of that whole sentence, funny considering the fact that it was a lie.

“I didn’t want you to leave. I’d never want you gone, pumpkin. And I’ll spend the rest of this lifetime working for your forgiveness. Even if it means that you forgive a grave.”

Your hand ran through his hair and you smiled honestly, for the first time since you had joined him for this little discussion you were having. You could feel his smile again your stomach but you could also feel the guilt grow and spread.

“You’re not being fair Peter.” You exhaled, taking your hand off his face and forcing him to look at you. “Not to me, yourself or Gwen, the awesome woman who loves you with every piece of her.”

Groaning against your body, he sat up, looking into your eyes with a playful grin.

“Gwen hasn’t been in love with me for nine years pumpkin. And I haven’t for a good decade.” He declared, the small smile on his face growing when he saw your confused expression. He was a simple man, and there was something absolutely adorable about your face when you were confused. The scrunch of your nose and the frown that made it look like he had said the stupidest thing ever was a hilarious combo he missed over the years.

“What the actual fuck are you talking about Peter ?” You asked, sounding a little angrier than you wanted. You weren’t going to get your hopes up but said hopes seemed to fly without the help of a pilot.

He chuckled, smile growing even wider. His hands took hold of your wrists, pulling you to his chest, between his parted legs. It was unnecessary to the story but he wanted to hold you, and by the time you weren’t going to push him away, he wasn’t going to stop himself. He wrapped his arms around your waist after placing yours on his shoulders before explaining himself.

“Gwen left for London after we graduated high school. We tried long distance but it just reminded me that you weren’t there either. We broke up, stayed good friends. I’m her son’s god father, she’s married now. Even has her own lab and stuff.”

Your expression got even worse and when you heard him try and keep in a laugh you couldn’t stop the punch to his biceps. It hurt a little but fuck that.

“Don’t laugh, you little shit ! What are you talking about ?!” You exclaimed, glaring at him.

“It’s as simple as it sounds pumpkin.” He said cradling your cheek tenderly. If you weren’t busy connecting the dots, you’d be swooning right now. “We broke up when she forced me to confront the fact that while she wasn’t there I wasn’t missing her as much as we both hoped I would. Even before that I was missing something else though, you. Hell, I was craving you, pumpkin. I needed you so much. And I still do.”

His words sounded so distant, echoing in your head. In a few seconds, your entire personality, the one you’d built to be Peter Parker proof was shot down and destroyed completely. You tried to keep your composure and stand your ground but it was useless. Maybe it was the fact that he was touching you, or the way he was looking at you, like you were the very reason why he kept breathing. You wanted to fold, all of you wanted that. But what you wanted didn’t matter, and after a decade of building yourself into a concrete wall, you weren’t going to fold so easily.

“Fuck you Peter.” You spat, looking at him with doubt before you stood up.

You couldn’t take a single step before being pulled backwards. Checking your dress and him, you noticed the long white web coming out of his webshooters and attaching itself to you. You squealed loudly as you dropped back onto his lap and this time, were kept between his arms. He wasn’t going to let you run off again, not when you could disappear for another decade. You tried to escape him by trashing around but he was quick to grab your wrists and force you to stay still by giving you this classic look that he would rarely use but would when it was necessary. You called it “The Brooding Spider Eyes”.

“Stop fighting me and try to listen for a second.” He ordered in a low voice that sent shivers all through your body. The more you’d look into his eyes, the fuzzier you’d get inside, that was the effect Peter Parker had on you, the deadly kind. You wanted to run, it was so much easier to run from him and to hide. After all this time, you couldn’t avoid it anymore, all that growth and improvement you tried to protect it wasn’t actual improvement, just you being able to forget him because he wasn’t there to remind you.

You were still the young girl who had begged her parents not to go to her own graduation, crying, because she was terrified of seeing him. They couldn’t understand and neither could you, all you knew was that seeing him with her was killing you. They had forced you to go but drove you home straight after, before he could even reach you. Then started the Great Cleaning of your entire existence on social medias and through your friends. You blocked a big majority of your high school except a very small group, changed your passwords because he had them all, deleted your pictures together, your socials and so on.

You had erased yourself to not be forced to confront the fact that you’d been in love with your best friend.

“Why didn’t you tell me, pumpkin ?” He muttered, his eyes fixated on your lips.

You knew exactly what he was referring to and that made you want to run even more, because that meant he knew and that also meant you were risking rejection. You tried to look away but he quickly took hold of your jaw and made you face him.

“Stop trying to look away, look at me and answer. Why didn’t you confess ?”

“Why would I ?” You responded softly, defeated. “You had a girlfriend, Peter. And you talked about her as if she was the brightest star in the universe. You told me about how great she was before you even told her you liked her, that was enough for me to understand that I wouldn’t stand a chance against that kind of love. And I know you would’ve tried to figure out the best solution to accommodate everyone, which would end up with you unhappy so I took the decision on my own.”

When your explanation finished, you tried to hide within yourself, lowering your head and turning it away from his. He kept your wrists tightly held while he searched your eyes softly, he needed to look into your beautiful eyes and see for himself, see the pain you’d been hiding from him for years. He wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, he knew that, but he was your best friend, you were his too. Hell, you were his everything, he should’ve known, and either you were the greatest pretender known to man or he just didn’t pay attention to you well enough, and he refused to believe that, because all Peter ever did was pay attention to you.

Blinded by your existence and borderline desperate to feel you at all times, he needed to observe you to be happy during the day, to see you well and smiling, otherwise he’d ruin whatever stood in your way, and that’s was what he thought was normal. Yeah, he clearly wasn’t the smartest and it took him years, but he knew as soon as you were gone that you weren’t just his best friend.

He closed his eyes and slid a hand behind your neck, delicately holding you still. The other reached up to your cheek, cradling it tenderly while his nose rubbed against yours. Never in his life had he wanted to see into your eyes more. The air in his lungs was gone, replaced by this unhealthy need to have you look at him. The years of ignorance started to pile up and he just couldn’t help the feeling in his chest. The kind of feeling that screamed to be explored, let out and exposed to the world.

“Pumpkin, please…” He pleaded, kissing your cheek softly.

You were moving out of his way but your body needed him to kiss you more, you wanted him to love you like this, just a little more.

“Stop…” You muttered, feeling his breath on your neck.

“I can’t… Don’t ask me to stop, please…” He said, rubbing his nose against your jaw.

There was something so intimate about the way his was searching for you, desperately waiting to be allowed in your space again, not just o’ the outside but on the inside. After ten years, you still brought him down on his knees, acting like a touch starved infant.

When you lifted your head, trying to save your own pride and avoid his lips, he did the same, forcing you both to face the other. He let out an exasperated breath, his eyes closed and his expression showing the inside pain he tried to hide. Both your forehead held against the other, you closed your eyes softly, turning away from him but keeping your faces close. When he thought you’d run again, he felt your hand on his cheek and suddenly could breath again. When you kissed his cheek, like you used too when you both very clearly needed this kids of intimacy, he smiled. The honest, goofy smile he was rarely showing these days.

“I’m sorry…” You whispered, finally giving in to whatever was pulling you to him so hard.

You kissed his cheek again, slowly going down to his jaw and his neck. Maybe you shouldn’t go so far after pushing him away so much, but Peter wasn’t the only one craving the other. You needed him just as badly. And he most likely wasn’t going to push you away, not when the feeling of your plump lips on his skin just made his heart stop a little more each time you’d kiss him.

When your hand ended up in his hair, playing with the brown locks, he knew he would do anything you told him. He was yours to play with right now, just like he was back then. He couldn’t stop himself from needing more but he’d start by taking everything you gave him like the greedy bastard he was.

“I’m sorry Spidey…” You repeated, kissing his chin.

There was absolutely nothing platonic about that, and maybe if you weren’t so fucking stupid you would’ve noticed earlier since you’d been doing this kinds of stuff for years. Everything was familiar and it still took you a decade to notice the very obvious situation you were both in. You truly were a match made in heaven.

His hands dropped down, freeing your wrists and instead, taking hold of your waist. Even that, he couldn’t do for long, too weak in the knees to hold you as strongly as he wished. There had to be some kind of magic in the way you touched him because his entire body suddenly felt like cotton candy.

You held his face and pulled away, ignoring the displeased growl coming out of him. You looked at his face, admiring it and swallowing back tears. You needed that man more than you needed air and you couldn’t ignore that fact any longer. You hated it, hated love and being so desperate and dependent on him but you couldn’t help it, clearly you had no control over anything anymore. You were working on autopilot.

“Kiss me again, please…” He asked, his voice so soft and polite, you swooned internally.

“I think we should talk instead…” You smiled, tenderly.

His eyes opened wide, a frown draw on his face. He looked funny and you knew that’s exactly what he was aiming at with the fake offended look. When he smacked his hand on his chest dramatically, you couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

“Oh ! So, now you want to talk ? After I practically had to bed you to just look at me ? Okay, princess. Let’s do it your way then, fuck me and what I want right ?” He sassed, looking around dramatically.

When your laugh resonated louder, he felt peace all over again. Nothing could calm him better than your smile so the power of your laugh was godly. He grinned when you tried to catch your breath, but instead practically fell to the floor. Thanks to the quick reflexes, he caught you by the front of your dress and pulled you to his chest.

“I’m sorry ! I just… I just couldn’t… Handle talking to you ? I don’t know… We haven’t in so long and suddenly everything was going to go back to normal… I couldn’t handle that… What if we talked and you realized how awful I was and am still now ?”

“Awful ? Pumpkin, don’t worry about being awful. I just pulled every toxic trick in the book to get you to look at me. And I couldn’t most likely do ten times worse if it means having you talk to me. You made me a desperate man, sweetheart.” He nodded with a playful smile.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and grinned. This felt right, peaceful, like it used to. But there was still a little bit of things that needed to be discussed first.

“Peter, You’re aware that I’m in love with you right ? Like, romantically ?” You asked, hesitant and slightly anxious about the question all together.

“Yeah I’m aware.” He responded tilting his head to the side. “Thank God, you are. Otherwise our relationship would be very awkward, pumpkin.” He smirked.

You smiled but froze when you heard his words.

“Relationship ? Like you and me ? Dating ? Like a couple ? Like people in love who hold hands and kiss and go on dates ? Like, actually dating ?”

The whole babbling was adorable and he wanted to stay looking at you in silence while you just kept talking but he needed to clear things up first. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer to him with a smile that said just enough. The kind you’d give to someone you loved more than a friend and definitely more than a person you liked.

“Pumpkin, listen to me and listen to me well.” Taking your face in his large hands, he kissed your forehead tenderly. “You’re my girlfriend and you’ll become more soon enough too. I’m not letting you run away from me again. Yes, this is a romantic kidnapping. Yes I intend on marrying you one day, if you’re not tired of me by that time. But yeah, we’re together in all senses of the term. In an actual romantic relationship.” Each word was separated by soft kisses all over your face, from your forehead to your cheek. He made sure to make you plead for more by kissing the corner of your mouth and your neck. Peter knew how to make you weak too.

“You’re okay with being my boyfriend, Pete ? I have a tendency to run, and I’m pretty fast.”

“I’m faster than you.” He responded quickly.

“I have issues with choosing myself too, I tend to put others first.”

“Great, I get to put you first instead. But we’re going to work on that whole people pleasing thing you’ve got going on.”

“I’ve got a niece who bites and protects me like I’m made of gold too.” You added, remembering events between your exes and your little niece.

“Oh really ? You’re pulling the niece card ?” He asked playfully. When you nodded with a large smile, he kissed your neck. “Good luck with that sweetheart because your niece loves me. She gives me a piece of the deserts you bake her every time she has some. Practically sure she chose me to be yours. Can that be considered a form of conditioning ? I don’t know, but I don’t mind.” It was his turn to babble, but it was more than fine, you loved it and so did he, seeing the laugh coming out of you was worth all of it.

You both stayed there for a little more, him watching you while he told the dumbest jokes ever and you laughing until your stomach started to hurt. You were back to who you had left behind years ago, who you could only be with the other. You were finally feeling the weight of lying to yourself for years. It felt right. You wanted to slap yourself for taking so many years to understand that lying wouldn’t make you feel any better, but it was a necessary period in a way. No mistakes, only fun experiences or lessons to learn from.

You were catching your breath when his thumb pulled on your lower lip, staring at your mouth with the kind of hunger he never felt for anyone else. You held his wrist in both hands while he kept playing with your lip. You knew what he was looking for and what you were waiting for too, the real question was, who was going to take the first step.

The answer was easy, you were. Leaning forward, you pecked his lips and retreated back to see him lose it right in front of your eyes. You expected a reaction but not to be pinned to the floor and be kissed with the kind of might that Thor himself would be surprised by.

Was he touch starved ? Not really, or maybe yes. But your touch was what he wanted. Gone was the soft moments from earlier, he was trying to show you exactly what your absence had done to him. One his hands grabbed your neck and pulled you to him with force, the other placed on the small of your back and pushing you forward, making your arch your back. He was holding your nape tightly and pushed his face towards yours, lips puckering before covering yours passionately. His fingers lowered, rubbing your thick thighs while his arm wrapped around your body.

He was working his lips with ease on yours, making your insides melt into a puddle at each move of his. His tongue was pushed deep in your mouth, making you moan, and you knew you weren’t going to last longur kissing like this. Not with the obscene tingle buzzing between your legs. He smiled into the kiss, knowing exactly what you were feeling. You couldn’t hide from him and his heightened senses. He licked the inside of your cheek, feeling his ego grow when you whimpered, pleading as if you were pushing yourself against him.

When he pulled away, the messy kiss left you numb and still on the floor. You were trying your best to catch your breath and settle your mind all at once. He stayed silent, watching you while rubbing his thumb over your flesh. When you felt calm enough, your eyes noticed the sign o’ top of your head that held the name of your niece’s school. Right. You were literally on the floor.

“Your brain’s still working pumpkin ?” He asked playfully.

You looked towards him in confusion.

“Why are we on the floor Parker ? And were you going to fuck me in front of my niece’s school ? In the street ?”

“Well, not at first. But now that you mention it, that could be a great idea, don’t you think ?”

The punch that followed was deserved, and he had supersenses to dodge so no excuse. You sat up while he was laughing and fixed your dress before getting up. He soon followed and looked at you up and down.

“That dress is made for you. You look beautiful.” He said, his eyes showing the kind of love and sweetness that could make you drop to your knees. You were weak to compliments but his were just different, they came from the man you loved and unfortunately you couldn’t resist those.

You looked away, hiding your smile when the man you now called your boyfriend lifted you up in his arms. You held onto him, tightly holding his neck while he laughed like he had just done the funniest thing ever.

“We’re taking a shortcut back to my place. I have a lot of things to talk about with you.”

~

No talking was done. Absolutely none. Maybe you should’ve seen it coming but you liked being delusional, it made life a constant surprise. Now, to say you were surprised by how the events had turned, would be lying again. You expected some kind of intimacy with Peter, but never that strong. You both ended up being swept away by the wave of desire you felt and were letting yourself drown, it was fine, you were drowning together.

There was something divine about the vision in front of him and the sensations born from said vision. If he could paint, or turn his memories into pictures, he would’ve made you the biggest one, kept hidden from the public for his eyes only. He was simple, to the point of being slightly stupid maybe, but he couldn’t help it. He wanted to worship the very ground you walked on after tonight and even more now that you were gracing him with more pleasure, the kind that even his wildest dreams couldn’t provide.

“P-Pumpkin… Please b-baby… Please…”

He was sobbing softly, crying tears of pleasure under your mischievous smile. He was close and he needed his release but he didn’t want it to come just yet, he didn’t want it to stop, not so soon. He couldn’t hold on longer but he needed more, always needed more of you. Again, greedy, he wouldn’t deny it, but could you blame him ? You had rocked his world and left him to fend for himself for over a decade.

Maybe it was his senses, maybe it was the years of intrusive sexual thoughts or wet dreams that were just all working against him in that moment. All of these were good hypotheses for his current state but he was too fucked out and dumb to think about them clearly. His brain wasn’t processing much right now but one thing that was for sure is that he had his cock nestled deep inside you, so deep that he could see how pretty his thick shaft looked through your belly,

Inhuman quantities of cum were dripping out of your pussy in the most obscene ways, pouring down your inner thighs and other places on your body , and he was certain that he was going to shoot out more in the next seconds if you kept on torturing him like that with your pretty lips, all swollen from him fucking your thoughts and tasting his own cum in your mouth. Another thing he knew was that all that cum, he’d pound it back into you as soon as his brain would gain back a little bit of that power he had earlier, before you turned him into a literal puppet, ready to obey your every command.

He was squirming and crying more by the second, needy for just a little bit of peace but also begging for you to use him more. He was absolutely fucked, that was another certainty with you around. Less than a day back into his life and he was already going crazy, the rest of eternity would be fun for you both.

You could’ve been a little nicer and actually moved on top of him but it was your turn to have him dumb and begging for you.

“Come on, Pete… I-Ah… I know… Y-You can give me a little m-more of you… Please b-baby, I just need it… G-Give me all of it… Please…” The sound of your moans so close to his ear made him lose himself a little more.

You started off slowly, using your knees to raise yourself on his cock until it slipped out. You saw how hard it was, covered in both your cum and leaking thick droplets of more. He was full, so full, he could explode. Never had he been this aroused but that was until you. His entire body was releasing years of attempts to calm himself down with his hands in one night and he wasn’t strong enough to take it. Lucky him you didn’t seem to give a fuck about that, enjoying the whimpering mess you’d turned him into.

The restraint he wanted to say he had was slowly disappearing, with his capacity to think straight. You kissed his earlobe and bit his jaw, making him shiver and cry a little more. His own body was betraying him, searching for that friction, the utmost level of contact with you. He tried to stay still and silent but couldn’t and started moving

Rubbing your folds on his tip, you saw his eyes roll to the back of his head, oh how the table have turned. His hands were tightly wrapped around your waist but started sliding down to your ass, ready to grip on you and slam you down on his cock. He wanted that, god he wanted so many things right now. But all of it was about you.

Poor man felt like a teenager going through puberty all over again. His face was as red and a cheery and the more you teased, the worst it got. His skin was burning so much, you couldn't last long while touching it. That was what an overstimulated Peter felt like. His hips kept bucking up, trying to push at least a few inches of him inside you. Fuck, he needed to feel your warm walls or else he'd go crazy.

“B-Baby… Baby Fuck… Please, I’m sorry… Please… P-Please, please, please… Lemme fuck you Pumpkin… Please ? Lemme feel that dripping pussy all around me… Fuck, please baby, let me inside…” He sobbed, unable to stop squirming while he could feel your entrance clench on his tip.

You looked down at yourself then at him. He was still whimpering and squirming, his entire body shaking as he pleaded with his eyes for you.

You smirked before fully sitting down on his cock, letting it take all the space inside you, filling you up exactly like it should. Looking down, you could see his tip poking through again and so could he, he was definitely looking.

“P-Peter ! Fuck, P-Peter ! Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck ! F-Feels… Feels so good !”

When you started bouncing on him again, fully jumping on his fat cock and letting the large throbbing girth invade you like nothing ever had before, he lost himself under you. He watched with admiration how your tits, still covered in cum from earlier, were bouncing up and down too. Fuck, his balls felt more full just from that image alone.

Tight and aching to be emptied, he could stop himself from getting more aroused. You leaned back, giving him full view of your pussy wrapped around him, sinking down on his entire length and taking every inch. Your dripping cunt was truly made for him, swallowing his dick down to the very last millimeter and moaning out for more like a bitch in heat.

His hands grabbed onto your waist, holding it tightly before he started to slam you down on his dick himself. As established before, he was a mess, but one thing he was good at was pleasuring you. No matter what, he’d always find a way to make you feel good. That night alone had been a sufficient proof of that.

At first he had been worried that using too much strength on you would hurt you, but when he noticed how much you loved being tossed around, he could hold back any longer, and he didn’t try to. He used the abilities given by the spider bite with care and if you wanted, he’d use them on you too. Today was the strength and tomorrow it could be the webs, who knew ?

“Y-You cockdrunk minx… Y-You like that huh ? Like it as much as I do…… That pussy’s killing me Pumpkin… Fuck, fuck, fuck… Please baby, tell me you like that… Like it when I fuck you stupid…” He begged, his lower parts guiding his thoughts and controlling his words.

“Y-Yes ! God yes ! Peter please ! M-More cock ! Please, gimme more ! Please !” You cried loudly, so loudly that your voice could probably be heard by the entire building. They probably weren’t used to the nice teacher neighbor bringing in this kind of company.

Slamming your poor weakened body on his cock with the strength of a bull in heat, he fed on the sounds resonating around the room. Your moans and cries of pleasure topped with loud sounds of your thighs slapping against his were the biggest ego boost ever. What truly did the work though was the sound of his sack slapping hard against your folds. Soft and swollen in contrast with the hard flesh of his balls. He was close, way too close.

Your entire body went numb, the thick load of cum you’d been begging for, invading every crevice of your pussy and oozing out of your already filled inside. Your little whimpers were the only thing that could be heard, with his own sounds. He’d never felt this defenseless before, weak to his instinct and clearly enjoying it.

Soon, he started moving his hips up and down, reaching for his end. His actions were so aggressive you couldn't even meet his thrusts or move freely, he was in control all while looking like he wanted to drown in your pussy. He was so red, just looking at his flushed cheeks and crossed eyes while he plowed into you made you even wetter. That reaction, you knew he loved it even more when his thick mushroom shaped tip pushed into your weak spot even harder.

He couldn’t avoid it anymore and you wanted it so badly, he could only oblige. He kept pounding into your spot, the throbbing head of his girth vibrating impatiently, he bit on his lip, his eyes crossed and his hands holding onto you for dear life. It wasn’t long before he came but he wouldn’t be the only one, never.

“F-Fuck… Ah, P-Pumpkin My sweet… Fuck, sweet princess… Taking… T-Taking everything from me… All that cum, all of it… All f-for you baby… All of me… Take it, take all of it…” He muttered, incapable to think of coherent sentences.

You were both trembling on the other, Peter still cumming inside you and you close to your end. He was dramatic and had he been able too, he would’ve most likely scolded himself for cumming first. But now wasn’t the time, instead, he pulled your warm body down, your breasts in his face just like he loved, and got to work.

He sucked one of your tits in his mouth while rubbing his thumb over the nipple of the other. His free hand was playing with your lower parts, rubbing on your clit while two of his fingers slid inside you. You arched your back, pushing your breasts in his face while he toyed with you. He loved that, finding put new ways of ruining you, even when you were already a mess. He’d play until you stopped him or until you passed out on top of him. A little sick, but that was Peter and you loved him exactly like that.

His fingers pushed around inside your filled cunt, pulling out to be covered in his cum. There was something about the image that filled him with pride. Maybe the way you accepted to be filled that way by him.

Letting go of your tits with both his mouth and hand, he laid it on your back, caressing you tenderly. His face went up to your neck, inhaling your scent and his mixed together perfectly. He kissed your jaw, cheek, neck and basically everything he could reach. His tongue licked small parcels of skin after each kiss, taking your taste with him. He was being tender and soft while his fingers kept rubbing on your clit. You didn’t last long before letting your sweet juices coat his large member and drip all over him. The sounds of your cries of pleasure in his ears were like music, the music he had dreamt of for years and finally he could hear it live.

~

You both stayed connected together, the poor man couldn’t handle the idea of pulling out and neither could you. Each breath you took ended up with him jumping out of nowhere. He would apologize but you could hear the laugh in his voice. He enjoyed this.

You stayed on top of him, your face, buried in his messy hair and his scent filling your senses. His face was in the crook of your neck, dropping butterfly kisses on your skin and biting when he felt especially playful. His hands stayed on your back, caressing you tenderly while his hips rolled under you. Yeah, he never said he’d stop moving, and in his defense, you were moving too.

“Hey, Pete. Do you think we would’ve ended up meeting each other again ? Even if you weren’t my niece’s teacher ?” You asked softly, kissing the crown of his head and siting up straight.

He smiled under you, his warm palm cradling your cheek and wiping remnants of your tears from earlier. He looked at you and you felt like you were the center of the universe. Because you were, the center of the universe and mostly of his universe. He was in love with you, and so were you. But no words could ever truly express how much he loved you, none.

“Listen to me.” He started, sitting straight to face you and stare into your eyes. “In every lifetime, planet, dimension, universe, whatever you want. In every single one of these, you and I, we find each other again. No matter what we do or who we are. Because you’re my soulmate, pumpkin. You’re everything to me, my everything. And I’ll let myself get swallowed by a black hole before I let anything change that. So yes, I don’t just think, I know we would’ve found each other again. We always do and we always will.”

There was some parts of truth in Peter's words and you both felt it, from the moment you met to the present. There was no way of explaining it or why but you knew you were soulmates. From the bottom pf your hearts you both knew it, because beyond words and actions, you were tied to the other. It was impossible to separate you both and doing so would never last, because you always found your way back to the other. Maybe it was fate or some kind of guardian angel, but you both knew it to be true.

You were soulmates and you had found you way back to the other again. With the help of your niece that you would both shower in bakeries. Maybe she was the guardian angel, who knew.

#•°birdie nonnie°• #tasm!peter parker #tasm peter parker #tasm peter parker smut #tasm smut #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter x y/n #tasm!peter parker imagine #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter imagine #tasm!peter angst #tasm!spider man #peter parker #andrew garfield!peter parker #andrew garfield smut #andrew garfield one shot #andrew garfield imagine #andrew garfield x female reader #andrew garfield x reader #andrew garfield #female reader #woc reader #black reader

[pedrito-friskito]

'til kingdom come - tasm!peter parker x fem!reader

the evolution of your relationship with peter parker.

a/n: my entry for the April TFC Writing Challenge! it was for a fic based on a song, (til kingdom come by coldplay - off the soundtrack!) I happened to watch The Amazing Spider-Man and No Way Home in the same weekend, and well, here we are. enjoy! 🤍 (just for the record - this would be no way home era tasm!peter parker, so at least a 5-6 years older than at the end of tasm 2!)

word count: 4.4k

warnings: mentions of car accidents, hospital stays, broken bones, fluff, not completely explicit but still explicit smut, this was INCREDIBLY self-indulgent and I regret nothing

✨@friskito-library for updates on new works!✨

You’re used to him disappearing, at this point.

To waking in the middle of the night to an empty half of the bed, the pillow still warm, the only sign that he was here at all your scattered clothes on the ground, the ghost of a kiss on your mouth, and the satisfied hum in your bloodstream. It’s routine, to a degree, and has you burying your face in his pillow, chasing whatever remnants you can until he comes back.

And he always comes back.

+

It started as some kind of strange, electric current that ran beneath your skin when this doe-eyed scrap of a man paused in the doorway of your hospital room. He heard you crying, walked in, concern in that chocolate-coloured gaze and asked you if you were alright. Given the circumstance, your leg casted six ways to Sunday and a painful crick in your neck, you blubbered out a no, but then he introduced himself - “Peter Parker, I’m…I’m Peter.” - as he handed you a tissue, and then all of a sudden he was sinking into the chair at your bedside, distracting you from the pain.

“You don’t even know me,” you protested, shaking your head.

He’d just lifted a shoulder, dragging the chair a little closer. He handed you another tissue, asked if you wanted some water. “If you told me your name, then I would.” His grin was infectious. “Besides, when I heard you crying, I couldn’t just keep walking.”

You talked for hours. Until the nurse came in and declared visiting hours over, your evening round of pain meds in your hand. Peter hovered as she pushed the syringe into your IV, and your vision swirled at the edges. Ah, morphine. “Say your goodbyes,” the nurse prompted, giving him a pointed glare. “Boyfriend can come back in the morning.”

“He’s not my…” you trailed off, the meds kicking in fast, making your words slur. Your hand flopped off the edge of the bed, and Peter could resist the urge to squeeze his fingers around yours.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he grinned, and you were out cold by the time he reached the door to your room.

You saw him the next day. And the next day. The day after that, and the day after that. He became a permanent fixture in the chair at your bedside, distracting you with anecdotes and cheesy jokes while your leg healed. He never showed up at the same time each day, but learned the visiting hours window quickly, and was good with his timing, always showing up within it. Your nurse still had to kick him out when he showed up later in the day, your visits often trailing well past the end of visiting hours, but she let him stay longer more than once.

He was there the day they discharged you, and helped you into the taxi to take you back to your apartment. He was patient, helping you up the steps and into the elevator, carrying your bags. At that point, you knew each other supremely well, and there was something so comforting about being around Peter, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

“You hungry?” he asked, setting you up on your couch, propping your leg up the way the nurse had instructed. “I’m no chef, but I make a mean boxed mac and cheese.”

“Everything in my fridge has probably gone bad,” you pouted, wincing as you adjusted slightly. “It’s been weeks since I’ve been home.”

“Shit. Right.”

“Pizza?”

He grinned, nodding in agreement. “Pizza.”

And so you spent the day together on your couch, watching old movies and eating pizza. Peter made sure you had water close by, doled out the meds the hospital had given you, fluffed your pillows. 

You forgot about the pain, and it wasn’t the drugs.

And before long, you were half asleep, as you were most nights when he visited you in the hospital. Except now, your head lolled on his shoulder, his t-shirt covered chest rising and falling beneath your hand. “I should go,” he mumbled into your hair. “Let you get some rest.”

“I can sleep here,” you mumbled back. “You can take my bed, if you want. You don’t have to go.” You hummed, your voice drenched with sleep, and then you were out like a light.

You woke some time later in your bed, your leg propped up on pillows, blankets pulled to your chin. There was a note on your nightstand, scrawled in a hasty hand.

Couldn’t leave you on the couch. Quite the first date, if you ask me. Hope you slept well - Peter x

Your eyes lingered on the words first date, and you tried to ignore the thump in your chest, but no matter what you did, it wouldn’t go away.

+

About a month later, after your cast was removed, the first few rounds of physical therapy done, and you were feeling good.

Good enough to call Peter out.

You’d finally gone back to work, and perched at your desk, staring out the window on your lunch break, you dialed his number. You’d seen each other a few times since you’d been discharged, the odd cup of coffee when you were both free. But the note he’d left at your bedside still lingered in the back of your mind. You needed to know.

“Hello?” he answered with a grunt, and it sounded windy as hell wherever he was. “You good?”

“I’m fine,” you said quickly, spine prickling at the concern in his voice. “Everything’s fine, I’m just…”

“You’re what?” he questioned, almost heaving a breath on the other line.

“Is this a bad time?”

“No, no, it’s fine.” He grunted, and there was a sound like he almost dropped the phone. “You’re what?”

“You called it a first date,” you spewed out, the words tumbling out of your mouth. “The day I came home from the hospital, when you stayed with me.”

“Uh, yeah, I guess I did.” You could almost see the blush in his cheeks. “Is that okay with you?”

“It is,” you said slowly, ignoring the whip of wind on his end of the line. “But you realize that calling it a first date implies that there’s gonna be a second date.”

“Does it?”

“It does.”

“Then how about I pick you up at seven?”

+

“I wasn’t gonna do this,” you breathed out against his mouth. His hands - god, his hands - were on your hips, pulling you against him while his lips ghosted over yours. He’d spent the elevator ride mapping out the curve of your jaw, making your pulse jump beneath your skin as he roamed your neck. “I was gonna make you wait, I was gonna-”

“Shut up,” he mumbled back, and his hands jumped from your hips to your mouth, pulling you more firmly against him, his lips claiming yours. “Fuck, you’re pretty.”

He’d knocked on your door at almost half past seven, and as you yanked the door open, some chastising comment about him being late, he’d pushed a semi-crushed bouquet of flowers into your hands, leaning forward and pecking your cheek as he murmured, “You look nice.” And the comment died on your tongue.

Dinner was great. The conversation passed between you as easily as ever. You talked about work; your journalism gig was busy as ever, and when you told him you had Spider-Man to thank for your latest front page article. “Your pictures worked perfectly,” you said over the rim of your wine glass, not missing the way his ears turned red. “It was the perfect cover shot.”

“I’m glad.”

A few hours of conversation, a brief tussle over who would pay the bill - Peter won, claiming that it was your article that put his photo on the cover, so he owed you one - and you were walking back to your apartment. You had to stop a few times, rubbing at a rogue pain in your leg, and after the second time, Peter tugged on your hand until you were behind him, then gestured for you to hop up.

“Are you insane? Peter, I’m not light, you can’t-”

“I carried you to bed on our first date,” he quipped, dropping his hands and turning around. He watched the puzzle pieces fit together in your expression, the details sussing themselves out. It formed a little dip between your brows, and he couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and smoothing his thumb over it.

“You did, didn’t y-”

And then he kissed you. Right there on the street, lamplight pouring over the both of you, the slight pain in your leg forgotten.

You were speechless when he pulled back, and a moment later, you were on his back, the pair of you striding towards your apartment.

He’d kissed you again in the lobby as he set you back on your feet. Again as you waited for the elevator. When it was blessedly empty, he crowded you into the corner and pushed his face into your neck, teeth scraping your pulse. When your breath hitched, he did it again. Again and again and again.

Then, inside your apartment, he pushed you against the wall, quieting your words, drinking them down with his hands on your face. Your blood thumped in your ears, heat flaring between your legs as he pushed his tongue between your teeth.

Fuck waiting.

He was careful. Gentle, even, as he snaked his hands back down your body, glancing around the curve of your ass before he was gripping behind your knees, lifting you up and against him. You squeaked at his strength, wrapping your arms around his neck as he carried you down the hall to your bedroom. You undressed each other slowly, lips never far apart as clothes scattered across the floor.

Something like panic flared in your eyes when you saw the bruises along his ribs, the scratch at his collar, but he kissed you again, silencing your worries when he snuck his hand down your front, fingertips licking at your nerves, pulling sensations to the surface of your body you hadn’t felt in a while.

The carefulness continued, both of you bathed in the darkness, the only source of light the slit in your curtains. Peter moved differently in the dark, somehow anticipating every move you made, as you explored each other. He pulled noises from you you didn’t think yourself capable of, making you cum hard once on his tongue before he was crawling over you on the bed, the ends of his hair tickling your skin as he made his way up to your lips once more.

There was that moment of realness, that pause of trepidation that filled the space between you when you fished a condom out of your nightstand. He hissed when you moved your hand over him, following his movements, tracing his outlines.

When he pushed into you, your good leg wrapped around his hip, his hands braced around your head, his face buried in your collar, you lost what little breath you had left. He managed to find every last nerve you needed touched, and it wasn’t long before you were losing it again, your head thrown back on the pillow, fingers buried in his wayward hard.

You fell asleep shortly after, curled on your side, Peter glued to your back.

But when you woke up, he was gone.

+

Peter avoided you as long as he could.

He felt bad about it, obviously, the guilt tugging at his insides anytime he saw something that reminded him of you, caught a scent in the air that smelled suspiciously like your shampoo.

He hadn’t wanted to leave. Truthfully, he could have stayed there in your bed all night, even if sleep evaded him. He would have watched you for hours, committed every inch of you to memory as you slept, maybe woke you up once or twice with his mouth or his hands or a combination, just to hear those sweet noises of yours again.

But then his senses had prickled, the scream of alarms outside reaching his ears. You stayed soundly asleep, your brow furrowing again. Despite everything in him yelling that he needed to go, Peter reached out, swiped his thumb across the dip in your skin yet again. It hadn’t disappeared when he’d kissed you hours ago, his movements taking you slightly by surprise, but then, your lashes fluttering with dreams, it smoothed out beneath his touch, and he smiled.

He didn’t want to leave.

He was falling for y-

The thought cut short. He shook his head, snuck out the fire escape and climbed to the roof of the building, pulling his gear out of his bag and disappearing across the city, his senses chasing the alarms.

The thought, and the feeling that accompanied it, wouldn’t leave him alone. Even when he went back home, Aunt May chiding him to eat him something when he appeared in the kitchen the next morning, his mind wandered back to you. You would have woken up alone, the only evidence he was there in the first place being the condom in your garbage can. 

And the sucked bruise he’d left on the inside of your thigh.

He was a mix of longing and guilt, heat and despair. His body begged him to go back to you, to apologize as many times as it took for you to let him kiss you again. But his mind said no, told him it was too soon, that his past was too fresh.

But could you really put a timeline on grief?

He’d never forget Gwen, never forget the way he’d held her that night, the way life had so cruelly ripped her away from him. She was a part of him, forever. No amount of time would change that.

Aunt May’s voice echoed in his mind. What she’d said when he found her packing Uncle Ben’s things into boxes.

You’re throwing his stuff away?

No, god, no. I couldn’t do that. It’s part of me. I’m just finding a better place for it. I’m gonna take one last look, and I’m gonna put it where it belongs.

For years now, he wasn’t sure what to do with everything he felt for Gwen. It still loomed around his heart, clutching at him like a vise, sneaking up on him at the most inopportune of moments. The love he’d had for her, it had nowhere else to go, so it sat in him, brewing like oversteeped tea, making him feel sour for what he’d lost.

Finding a better place for it.

Put it where it belongs.

He intended to call you that day. He was running late for an appointment, rushing through the city streets, when he collided with someone, a cup of coffee falling to the sidewalk at his feet. He narrowly avoided the hot liquid, cursing under his breath, and then he caught the scent of your shampoo, forcing himself to ignore the way it twisted his gut.

But then he took a deeper breath, and realized it wasn’t just the smell of your hair. 

It was you.

“Oh my god,” he whispered, shame and guilt washing his cheeks rosy. “I’m so sorry, I’m-”

“It’s okay, Peter,” you said, rising to your feet, now-empty coffee cup in hand. “Don’t worry about it.”

He pulled you to the side, avoiding the coffee spill, dragging you into a doorway a few steps up from the sidewalk. You went willingly, but he could see the hesitation in your eyes, and he couldn’t blame you. Your eyes darted anywhere but his face, leaning back against the doorway, chewing at your lip.

“I screwed up,” he said bluntly, and that had your eyes zipping to his. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to sneak out on you, or avoid you, or any of it. I just…I’m sorry.”

Your brow lifted slowly. “You keep saying that.”

“Would you give me another chance?” he asked, the words still pouring out of him. “Please?”

Your chest lifted as you inhaled deeply. “I don’t hear from you for weeks, you come out of nowhere and spill my coffee, and you ask me for a third date?” Your tone was almost flat, but there was a quirk at the corner of your mouth you couldn’t hide. 

Daringly, Peter took a step forward, crowding into your space. His hand hovered for a moment before he lifted it, curling his fingers and letting his knuckles trail down your cheek. Your eyes fluttered and he took another step.

“Yes,” he breathed, leaning down until his forehead was pressed to yours. His knuckles caressed your cheek again. “Please.”

Your next inhale was sharp and you tilted your head back, the tip of your nose moving along the curve of his. “I swear to god, Peter Parker, if you disappear on me again, I won’t-”

He was too busy kissing you to hear the end of the sentence.

+

Three days later, you had him in your bed again. It was an interesting evening, to say the least.

You made him wait this time. Sort of. It was your fourth date now, technically - you’d held out after the dinner he’d taken you to after your collison on th street - but the way he’d kissed you goodnight after this one had you saying fuck it to waiting yet again. There was something different about him, something less haunted in those dark eyes, something less hurried behind his movements.

Your kisses lingered in the elevator, the doorway, the hallway. You drank glasses of water in the kitchen, and Peter was distracted, his eyes catching on the drafts of your latest articles, spread out on the countertop. “No more Spider-Man?”

You lifted a shoulder. “No one’s seen him around in a while,” you answered, stepping close to him. “Plus, my favourite photographer disappeared on me.”

He cracked a smile. “Well, he won’t do that again, I’ve got it on good authority.”

Your smile echoed his. “Good.”

But then just as quickly as it had appeared, the smile faded. “Listen,” he started, his brow going hard, rubbing his hand up the back of his neck. “I promised myself I’d be honest with you, and there’s…there’s something I gotta tell you.”

“Okay,” you said slowly, tilting your head to the side as you set your glass down. “So tell me.”

He braced both hands on the sink, pressing his lips together for a long moment before his head turned in your direction. “It was me that saved you that night. The car accident, when you broke your leg.”

Your brows pulled down, instantly confused. “No, it wasn’t. Peter, we didn’t even know each other back then, it was-”

The cops had told you who it was, your nurse repeating the story with the tiniest bit of disdain. It was what had inspired your front page piece, when you finally went back to work. A thank you, of sorts. It was-

“Spider-Man,” Peter says, his jaw hard enough to cut glass. Your head is spinning. “That’s me. I’m Spider-Man.”

You started laughing. Giggling like mad, nearly bent in half. “What are you-”

Without a word, Peter stepped away from you, one hand held palm up, and jumped. The ceilings in your apartment were low, but it was still a good three feet above your head. His bare hand connected with the ceiling…

…and stuck.

He swung slightly, staring down at you, his lips still pressed together.

“You…saved me?” you murmured out, your voice dropping as he did, his feet back on your kitchen tile. You weren’t sure whether to laugh or cry. Your memories of the accident were hazy; you’d spun out, your car diving off the edge of the bridge and into the river below. You remember being filled with fear as soon as the car hit the water, but the impact knocked you out. You woke up in the hospital later on, and the cops filled you in, told you that Spider-Man had carried you into the emergency department.

Peter just nodded. His shoulder lifted. “It’s kind of what I do.”

“But then you…?” you trailed off, your brow scrunching again.

He closed the distance between you, his thumb smoothing between your brows, something of a habit of his that you were already growing used to. “Then I came to see you in the hospital. I had to. I had to make sure you were okay.”

“You…You’re Spider-Man.”

He smiled as his hand moved around the outline of your face, his thumb now riding the curve of your lower lip. “I’m Spider-Man.”

“I’m having sex with Spider-Man?”

“I thought we were dating, too.”

You pushed at his chest, curling your fingers in the collar of his t-shirt and tugging him close. “I’m having sex with Spider-Man.”

The corner of his mouth lifted, and you kissed the grin off his mouth. He moved faster than your eyes could track, grabbing you up into his arms, carrying you down the hall to your bedroom.

+

You lay sprawled in your bed hours later, the sun long gone. Peter is stretched out, his arm tucked behind his head, while you are laid on his chest, your chin resting on your hand. You’d only stayed quiet when he’d had his mouth on yours, your questions deterred while he was busy having his fill of you, making those sweet noises echo off the walls of your bedroom. He wasn’t sated, not by a long shot, but he could see the questions on your face as you both came down, chests heaving.

“Go ahead,” he prompts you, tugging you close. “Ask me.”

He tells you everything. He fields every question, tells you as much truth as he could bear. He doesn’t hold anything back, his words spilling out faster with every question on your lips. Soon enough, you’re kissing the words out of each other’s mouths, tangling in the sheets once again.

And then you have a secret of your own to share.

“I’m in love with you.”

His heart stalls in his chest. Every feeling he’d battled over the last few months brought back to the surface. “I…” His eyes search yours, so full of emotion - so full of truth - he feels guilt crawl up his throat. 

He’s told you about Gwen. You know what happened, you know the story. And you hadn’t pressed him for details, when he first brought it up. You were in the hospital still, laid out in that bed, him perched in the chair beside you. Your fingers had curled through his when he first brought it up, your eyes shining back at him. “It’s okay, Peter. I…I lost someone too. A long time ago. I get it.”

He wants to. He wants to tell you the same. He wants to admit it - to you, and to himself, finally.

But…

“I can’t,” he says, the words feeling like lead weights on his tongue. “I just-”

“It’s okay, Peter,” you reply, an echo of what you’d said when he’d first told you. “I get it, I just-”

He grabs your forearm, pulling you further up his chest, until he can bury his hand in your hair, his kiss cutting off your sentence. “Can you trust that I want to? That I want to say it, I just…need time? I’m not gonna ask you to wait for me, but if you-”

It’s your turn to cut him off, your mouth lingering on his. “I can wait, Peter. I will wait.”

+

And so it’s continued. More dates, more nights spent in your apartment. Walks through Central Park, dinners at Aunt May’s. May is in love with you from your very first meeting, which Peter predicted, and it’s all too easy to fall into the patterns, to become an even steadier part of each other’s lives.

Every time he has to go, his senses pulling him to another corner of the city, he sees the concern in your eyes. “Be careful,” you beg him, kissing him soundly. “Come back to me.”

“Always will,” he grins, returning the kiss, ducking out the window.

And he always does.

But now, he’s been gone for hours. You’ve been checking the news like a crazy person, scrolling on your phone, refreshing your best sources every few minutes. But nothing. You even go so far as to call the hospitals, making sure he hasn’t turned up in an emergency department somewhere. You can’t tell May; you can’t worry her like this.

Hours turn into days. You deter May’s worried calls with a white lie that Peter has food poisoning and has been sleeping it off at your place. Almost two days, and your worry is at an all time high. This is different. Something feels different, something you can’t quite put your finger on.

All you can do is wait. You told him you would.

+

The weird tingling from Dr. Strange’s spell fades, the brightness clouding his vision fading away, and Peter finds himself standing in your living room. A glance at the kitchen clock tells him it’s very early, and as the exhaustion of the last forty-eight hours starts to set in, already making his limbs heavy, he heads for your bedroom, stripping out of the suit as he goes.

By the time he steps through the doorway, he tosses the suit in the direction of your laundry bin. His mind is still spinning, churning with everything he’s witnessed in the last few days. He doesn’t really know how to make sense of it all, but there’s one thing he has to do.

“Hey,” he murmurs, reaching out and covering your shoulder with his hand, shaking gently as he pulls the blankets back with his other hand.

You grumble for a moment, your eyes cracking open, but when you see it’s him, you surge upwards, throwing your arms around his neck. “Peter!”

“Hi, baby,” he mumbles into your neck, dropping the blanket and wrapping his arm around your waist, the other finding a home in your hair. “Sorry I disappeared on you.”

“What happened?” you cry, pulling back, taking his face in your hands, your eyes instantly inspecting him. “You were gone for two whole days, I didn’t know what to-”

He kisses you hard, wrapping your hair around his knuckles. You return the affection, holding him as tightly as he’s holding you. “I wanna tell you what happened, but I don’t totally know myself? All I know is that I’m exhausted, and there’s something that I do have to tell you.”

You pull him down into bed, instantly fitting yourself against his side, pulling the blankets over you both. Puzzle pieces falling into place. Your brown furrows, and he moves his thumb over the dip. “What is it, Peter? Tell me.”

He drags his knuckles down your cheek. “I’m in love with you, too.”

THE END.

#my fics #'til kingdom come #tfc writing challenge #tfc april challenge #peter parker #tasm peter parker #tasm peter parker fic #tasm fic #andrew garfield peter parker #idk how else to tag this #tasm peter parker fluff #peter parker fluff #tasm peter parker smut #peter parker smut #Spotify

[swtki]

Swtki’s 2.5K follower celebration !

Aaaah thank you guys so much for 2.5 K !!!!!

18+ only content ahead - minors will be blocked as well as ageless blogs !

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[iridescentmauve]

NEEDINESS. Peter Parker.

summary: you and peter are just having your annual show night, watching one of your favorite shows but you can't push down the unbearable lust and need you feel for him.

pairing: tasm!peter parker x f!black!reader.

word count: 933 | requests: OPEN.

a/n: no, this is not proofread, none of my works are proofread. istg if i see one comment correcting my grammar i will rage 🙁

YOU AND PETER had just been laying on the couch, cuddling with each other; his arm wrapped securely around your waist.

Clueless played on the television in the background, and even though it was possibly your favorite show in the whole entire world, you couldn't help but be less than focused on it.

Your face was pressed into the crook of his neck, thigh thrown over his, so you were basically now sitting on the muscular skin, and every now and then you could just feel how his thigh clenched, pressing deliciously at your core.

What you had figured out after the two of you had begun dating is that Peter Parker is a huge tease, so you couldn't tell whether his actions were accidental or not.

Probably not.

As his thigh rocked up to meet your clothed, sopping cunt, you couldn't help but let out the filthiest whimper into his skin.

It was so quiet that an average man probably wouldn't have been able to hear it; but Peter could.

Due to his enhanced senses, he could tell when you needed him most, he could always feel how wet you were, tell how aroused you were, know how much you wanted him. But, he always waited. Waited until you came to him yourself.

This time was no different.

"Pete .."

"Mm? What is it bug?"

God, his voice. Just the tone of his voice sent a blast of heat down to your core, and you squirmed uncomfortably in your shorts.

Another whine would leave you, dipping your head further into his neck, whispering into his skin, "Pete, 'need you so bad.. Please.."

You could've sworn you heard him chuckle, but maybe it was his ears playing tricks on you. "You gotta speak up, 'can't hear you baby."

A pout etches across your face, leaning away from him slowly. "Said I need you, please Pete.."

Peter smiles, pressing a chaste kiss to the top of your head, "Could've just said that lovely." One of his hands reaches down, gently tugging down your shorts and you help him by kicking them off.

He shifts a little bit, sitting up and pressing his back against the couch's armrest, helping you to straddle his leg.

The show in the background was now long forgotten as you stared into his gorgeous, brown eyes. God you loved those eyes.

"You gotta tell me what you want from me, okay?" His voice was soft, making you shiver.

He could feel how soaked you were, your thin layer of panties not doing you much justice really. "Want to ride your thigh .. please?" You managed to squeak out, cheeks heating up.

Peter moved his free hand to rest on your cheek, caressing the flesh gently. "Wanna get yourself off on my thigh pretty girl? Hm? Well go ahead, use me for your pleasure bug."

God, the words just seemed so natural, but yet it left you all the more hot and bothered.

Though, you didn't need to be told twice, moving your hands up to rest on his shoulders, slowly rocking your hips back and forth.

You'd moan out, taking in a deep breath as you set a steady pace. He'd place his hand on your hip, squeezing it gently, slightly moving your hips with his hand, guiding you.

"Come on sweet girl, you can do it." He'd mumble in your ear, kissing your earlobe.

You'd whimper, moving your hips at a bit of a faster pace now, clit getting perkier by the second. With each rub of the cloth of your panties rubbing against it each time you move your hips, you let out a slight gasp of his name.

Squeezing your eyes shut you'd lean in, clumsily pressing your lips to his.

Immediately he dove right in, kissing you back with passion, nose bumping against his every now and then. Peter licked into your mouth, tongue exploring every inch of your cavern.

The kiss was slightly sloppy, but you couldn't care less, all you needed was to feel him.

You pulled away, snapping your hips back and forth even faster. You were sure that you were already soaking up his pants, and you hadn't even come yet.

You were sure your inner thighs were dripping with your own arousal, but you couldn't bring yourself to care.

"Ah- Pete, 'm close-" You gasp out, causing him to grin, moving your hips faster.

He'd duck down, capturing your earlobe in between his teeth, biting gently as you gasp out. "Gonna make a mess all over my pants like the dirty girl you are, yeah? Go on, go ahead baby."

Peter's words made you moan, hips stuttering against his thigh. You could feel your cunt fluttering around nothing, desperately trying to find something to wrap around.

As you grind your hips faster and faster, a strangled moan mixed with a whimper leaves your lips, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face into his shoulder.

"Fuck Peter- 'm coming."

He'd snake a hand down in between your bodies, slipping his hand into your panties, rubbing fast circles on your clit. "Come on baby, come for me come on.."

One last breathy moan would slip past your pretty, pretty lips, before you came undone on his thigh, soaking both your panties and your boyfriend's sweats.

And god, to him it was so hot.

Your little pants were swallowed up by his lips pressing gingerly against yours, still rubbing slow, little circles onto your clit, causing you to shine about sensitivity.

"You seriously thought we were done? You may be, but I'm not."

🪷 tags: @jackierose902109 @kidavalentine @playgurlxoxo

add yourself to my marvel taglist!

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[phantomlifes]

tasm! Peter and its maybe two three years after Gwen. He just needs someone to pump his anger and sadness into ;))) Finds what he’s needing in his shy neighbor or Roommate (You pick) who obviously has a crush on him- like she’s so bad at hiding it , it’s hilarious

oh god…….you’ve already nailed one of my niches

peter knew you were attracted to him. he just did. it wasn’t exactly like you were good at hiding it, either. you blushed whenever you had your elevator small talk, he knew even in the early days that he moved in. but then he started to get closer, and had his hunch confirmed. the way you’d giggle nervously every time he invited you in, how you’d fidget your hands and play with your hair when you talked to him. it’s not like he was good at this thing, you certainly had that in common, so it took a long time for him to confront you about it. 

one night he couldn’t take it anymore. you guys were hanging out in his apartment, talking as usual.

“and i swear to god, i was so hard.” he shook his head immediately. “no,no — wow, i-i meant it, not…” and you were laughing at him, but you were also bright red. if he focused his senses enough, he could hear your heartbeat hammering in your chest. he just said it.

“are you attracted to me?” he asked, the words flying out of his mouth faster than he can catch them.

“is…is it that obvious?” you looked embarrassed, fully red and eyes trained on the ground. he let his urge to comfort you carry him, sitting next to you on the couch.

“a…a little?” he winced a bit as he told her the truth. “but it’s okay, because…” he put a hand on her shoulder with a small smile and took a deep breath. “i feel the same way about you.”

that’s how you ended up in his bed, well, after practically falling on it with him on top of you, unable to stop kissing him.

“that’s it, bunny.” he rasped, pumping his long, delicate fingers into you, reaching that spot you never could. “why…why bunny?” you asked breathlessly, your brain almost completely forgetting how to form sentences. he rubbed firm circles on your clit and made you whine, squirming under his hold. he leaned in over your face.

“well, you’re shy, and you’re cute…but now you’re whining for me like a little puppy.” his voice was like velvet to you in this moment, your hand gripping his wrist, keeping him in place as you bucked your hips against him. he giggled. “i’m not goin’ anywhere…now that i have you, i might have a hard time letting you go.” he looked into your eyes, and you felt that you losing yourself to the edge, spilling all over his fingers. and when you did, he had the audacity to say “atta girl.”

#THIS IS MY FIRST ONE SO IM JUST GONNA KEEP IT SHORT AND SWEET BECAUSE I DONT WANNA MESS IT UP #peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker #tasm peter parker smut #peter parker smut #tasm x reader #tasm smut #the amazing spider man #the amazing spiderman #asks #notsfw #my writing #buggy bf

[blooming-violets]

For Inexperienced Smut Prompts

“I can’t believe you’re this innocent…”

With Andrew! Peter Parker x reader ❤️���️❤️ !!!!!!

Not So Innocent || Inexperienced Smut Prompts

[tasm!Peter Parker x fem!virgin!reader]

Warnings: Alcohol use and depictions of being intoxicated, a lot of dry humping and fingering

A/N: I changed the quote just a tiny bit to “I didn’t know you were so innocent" because it fit better. Same vibes though.

You weren’t used to being dragged along to parties, especially one’s held in a large penthouse overlooking the city. The host of the party was a friend of a friend of a friend. At least, that’s what your roommate said. She desperately wanted to attend with her boyfriend but was too nervous to go without you. She promised to find you a date so you wouldn’t be third wheeling despite your claims that you’d rather not attend at all. Somehow she had managed to convince you to get dolled up in clothes that weren’t your own and make an appearance. You trailed behind her and her boyfriend as the three of you walked out onto the wrap around terrace. 

The night air was warm and the sounds of the heavy bass booming out of the speakers reverberated inside your heart. You couldn’t even make out what music was playing; it was too loud. You scrunched up your face in distaste, fidgeting with the bottom of the short skirt of your dress, and pushing your way next to your friend. 

“Is this really worth it?” You shouted over to her. 

She either couldn’t hear you over the noise or was choosing to ignore you, “Look! Over there!” 

She grabbed your hand and dragged you over to an elegant, glass table in the middle of the terrace. It was completely covered with different types of alcohol. You weren’t really educated well enough to be able to tell the difference between them all. She poured you something clear and shoved the cup into your hand. 

“Drink this!” She practically forced you to tilt the cup to your lips and held her hand under the bottom while you drained the contents. 

You were sputtering and gagging by the time it was finished, “That was horrible!”” 

“I know, it was pure vodka,” she laughed. “But it will get you loosened up.”

You felt like vomiting. She poured you something else. 

Her boyfriend leaned between the two of you to point over at someone. “Matty is over there. Why don’t you go talk to him?” 

You turned to see where he was pointing. Matt was the guy who was supposed to be your date tonight. He played college football with your roommate's boyfriend. You gave an unenthusiastic smile. That was supposed to be your cue to leave the two of them alone so they could enjoy their night as a couple. You weren’t sure what the point of your coming was. It wasn’t like your friend was planning on actually spending time with you. 

You reluctantly made your way over to Matt and gave him an awkward wave, “You’re Matt, right?” 

He nodded, “Yeah. My friend’s call me Matty, though.” 

“Great,” you replied. You weren’t a friend so you thought you’d stick with Matt. “Uhm, nice to meet you, I guess.” 

He looked you over, overtly eyeing up and down your body. You curled into yourself under his gaze and quickly started drinking whatever was in your cup. It tasted like bleach and lime. You did your very best not to make a face of disgust and keep drinking. 

“You’re supposed to be my date then?” He asked. 

“I guess,” you shuffled the toe of your foot against the ground. “Do you-”

He cut you off, “I was told you were really hot.” 

You laughed at that. It was a self deprecating, uncomfortable laugh. He was already heavily intoxicated, swaying on his feet. You wanted to go home. The forced smile faded from your face as you turned your sights to look out over the city. 

“Sorry to disappoint you,” you stated, feeling like shit. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched him shrug, “Nah man. It’s cool. You’re still hot but, like, a prudish kind of hot. Like how the pastor’s daughter is always smokin’ hot but you know she’d never actually go down on you, so you don’t even try to bark up that tree, ‘cause it leads nowhere. Not really fuckable, ya feel me?” 

You didn’t feel him. You felt insulted for some reason. As if being called unfuckable by a drunk stranger was the worst thing you could ever be called. Matt was clearly looking for one thing tonight. He wanted someone easy. He took one look at you, uncomfortable in your roommates clothes, and could instantly tell you weren’t that kind of girl. She could dress you up but she couldn’t change your personality. You were self-conscious and fidgety. Even this dumb jock could see that. Before you could reply, Matt’s attention got pulled away by a group of giggling girls throwing heart eyes at him. He didn’t say a word as he stumbled away, already forgetting your entire existence. 

And, just like that, you were left alone at a party you didn’t want to be at. 

You finished the drink in your hand despite wanting to gag every time it touched your lips. You were already starting to feel the effects of the two drinks. You had never drank in your life so it didn’t take much to make you feel funny. Your skin sort of felt tingly and your thoughts were slow and lazy. Even though you were left on your own, you felt a sudden rush of happiness pushing away the shame. The music was starting to sound less terrible, too. It made you want to dance. You were beginning to feel invincible. Confident. Matty could go fuck himself. You were totally fuckable. You were hot. This dress was super sexy and slutty and short and you were an absolute babe with it on. You could do anything you wanted. You felt like if you stood up on these rooftop railings and jumped, you would simply sore away into the sky like a bird. 

“I didn’t expect to see you here.” 

A vaguely familiar voice popped up behind you before you had time to test your theory of flight. 

You turned around to come face to face with Peter Parker. He was your lab partner for biology. You two usually only ever spoke about class related topics but it was still nice to see a familiar face. You always found him to be very sweet. 

“I wouldn’t expect to see you here, either,” you responded with a big smile. 

Peter laughed, “I guess us nerds don’t usually get invited to rich people’s rooftop parties.” Once the words left his mouth, his eyes widened, afraid that he offended you. He quickly added, “Not that I think you don’t belong here! Or that you’re a nerd. You’re very pretty. Not that nerds can’t be attractive. That’s just a dumb stereotype. I think you’re really smart and you have a nice smile and you look really pretty tonight. Not that you don’t look pretty other days. And not that it matters what you look like. Or…well…I mean…I don’t remember what I was originally talking about…I think I’m drunk.”

The crimson blushing over his cheeks was incredibly endearing. You found yourself leaning in closer. You knew he was always handsome but, tonight, he looked beautiful. Radiant. Mesmerizing. 

You think you might be a little drunk, too. That first cup your friend made you chug was causing your thoughts to swim. The second cup only sealed the deal. 

“Thank you!” It was all that needed to be said. Also, because you sort of forgot what he was saying, too. You got distracted by the way his lips formed each word. They were lovely lips to look at. “I think…” 

His blush deepened and he hid behind the beer bottle in his hand as finished off the contents, “Do, uh, do you want to dance? With me, I mean. Or by yourself is fine too but I’d hope it was with me. That’s why I’m asking. For your hand. Not in marriage! To dance with.” 

You weren’t a dancer but you didn’t think Peter was either. That made you feel more confident in accepting his offer. 

“Okay,” you nodded, laughing at how he managed to out awkward you. 

He took the cup from your hands and put it onto the first table he saw along with his own empty beer. Then, he took your hand and pulled you inside, onto the dance floor that had been set up in the living room cleared of furniture. The feeling of your hand in his, the way he easily maneuvered you through the crowd, sent an excited, pulsating electricity shooting up your spine. Peter found a nice spot off to the edge of the crowd. There, you two could still enjoy the energy without being trampled on by all the sweaty bodies. 

An unspoken tension settled in the air between you and Peter. You were drawn to him. Captivated by him. You’d often spend the two hours of your lab huddled up close to his face while sharing a microscope but this felt different. Stronger. You couldn’t stop staring at the way his body moved. It might be the alcohol talking but he seemed to have a natural flow to his movements. You felt in sync with him. Your eyes shamelessly traveled down his body, much like Matt had done to you earlier. Only instead of feeling nervous like you had, Peter merely smirked, the smile flashing over his lips. Without his usual oversized sweatshirt, you could easily make out the strong muscles of his biceps as they pulled the sleeves of his t-shirt tight against his arms. You would have never guessed he was hiding those under there. 

You got lost in the music, loving it a million times more than when you first entered the party. You were moving, swaying, and bouncing along to the beat. Peter was right there with you like he was reading your mind, or reading your body, able to anticipate which way you were swaying and following your lead. The rest of the party faded around you as your eyes locked with Peter’s. It was just the two of you and the unfamiliar sensual tension clouding the air, growing thicker with each passing second. 

You were not a prude. You were not the preacher’s daughter. Matt could go fuck himself. He had no idea what you were like. All he did was take one look at you and thrust his own narrative on your shoulders. Yeah, maybe you were still a virgin, but you gave a guy a blow job. Once. In your senior year of high school. That qualifies you to be a part of a Non-Prude Club. Fucking Matty, that piece of shit. A big giant turd. That’s what he was. His brain had probably been hit one too many times during football anyway. You didn’t even think he was that attractive. Maybe he was the one who wasn’t fuckable? You bet he never thought of that!

Peter didn’t think you were a prude. He thought you were pretty and he wanted to dance with you. That means…well, it doesn’t mean much, but your vodka fueled brain was trying to connect some kind of dots together. Peter wanted to fuck you. That was probably it. Or maybe that was Matt who wanted to do that. Not Peter. You were getting them confused. 

No, no, Matt didn’t want to fuck you. Or he did but he didn’t think you would let him. 

And he was right. You wouldn’t have let him. He was kind of gross. 

But, Peter…

“Am I fuckable?”

His eyes widened, “Excuse me?”

“What?” Did you say that out loud? Shit. “I didn’t say anything!” 

His smile grew. He leaned down to speak directly into your ear, “Yes. You are.” 

Heat flooded your face. Holy shit. A nervous, intoxicated laugh tumbled from your lips. The song changed to a new track and your eyes lit up. 

“I know this one!” You excitedly bounced on the balls of your feet. 

“Everyone knows Britney Spears,” Peter laughed at your enthusiasm as I’m a Slave 4 U blasted out the speakers. 

Someone bumped into you from behind and sent you tumbling into Peter’s chest. He steadied you back onto your feet. Instead of moving away, you embraced the closeness, feeling bold, and wrapping your arms around his neck. His eyebrows raised, slightly taken off guard, but he quickly settled his hands comfortably around your waist. The electricity in the air heightened. You wanted Peter to touch you forever. There was not a single other person in this party except for him. You smiled up at him through hazy eyes. 

“I never drank alcohol before tonight,” you confessed. Something in his eyes felt safe, like you could tell him all your secrets and he wouldn’t tell another soul. He would keep you safe. A protector. “I don’t think I’m too drunk, though. I think I’m just happy. I could still totally drive a car.” 

That was a lie. You didn’t even have your license. It felt pointless when you grew up in the city. 

Peter chuckled. It was a nice sound. 

“I didn’t know you were so innocent,” he teased. “Never had a drop of anything before?”

You feigned a gasp at his comment, “I am not innocent! Why are people always assuming that about me tonight? What vibes am I giving off? My roommate told me these were some of her favorite slut clothes. Apparently they’re doing nothing to help my image.” 

“Oh, trust me, they are,” He nodded with appreciation for her tight fitting outfit. Then added, “You’re at a happy drunk level. Me too…but that might just be because you’re here with me.”

Your stomach tumbled with excited butterflies. With Britney Spears cheering you on, you pushed your body closer, brushing against his. As you swayed to her hypnotic beat, you purposely rubbed your hips into his. The moment you made contact, you felt his arousal. Solid and hard against you. 

You let out a tiny gasp, eyes widening in shock. You hadn’t been expecting that. That was because of you. You had given him that. You. Peter’s eyes had closed and his lips parted when you pushed against him. For a split second, it looked like he was going to let out a moan right there in front of everyone. His eyes shot open when he realized what was happening and a slew of slurred, bashful apologies tumbled out of him. Before he could get too embarrassed, you silenced him by repeating the movement. This time, locking eyes with him with a defiant stare, as you rubbed your pelvis over his erection as if you were daring him to stop you. 

You would show him you weren’t innocent. You would prove him wrong.

He licked his steadily drying lips and swallowed the lump in his throat. He was completely speechless, utterly in awe. This was a new side of you, one you hadn’t even known existed before tonight. A horny, needy side. It only took him until the chorus to snap out of his stunned daze. His hands traveled up your sides, curving around your waist, then traveling back down. He hovered over your butt, watching your reaction to see if you’d object. When all he got a quiet smirk urging him on, his large hands cupped your cheeks. You could feel your dress riding up your thighs as he squeezed you, bunching up the fabric. He pressed you closer, holding you tightly against his erection. You tightented your grip around his neck, smooshing your breasts against his chest, and feeling the flood of wetness rush to your core. 

I’m a slave for you. I cannot hold it, I cannot control it. I’m a slave for you. I won’t deny it, I’m not tryna hide it.

Britney was always right. You really were trying to have him dance up on you. You could not control it and you won’t deny it. Truer words had never been spoken. 

You felt weak. A good kind of weak. Like your knees might give out at any moment and your head was spinning but everything felt wonderful. A happy drunk. That’s what Peter had called it. Or a horny drunk. Maybe both. 

The more you held his gaze, the more attractive he became. You didn’t think that was possible but here you are. The flecks of sparkling light reflected off those beautiful hickory colored eyes. You were lost in them. Lost in his magnetic pull. His lips were centimeters from yours. He wanted to kiss you but he was letting you close the gap, giving you the choice. You took a shuddered breath and smashed your lips together. It might have been a little too eager and aggressive but Peter easily remedied your attack. He softened his lips and gently eased open your mouth with his tongue. The butterflies in your stomach turned to a frenzy at the feeling of his warm tongue gliding across yours. It reminded you of a dance. Much like your bodies were still pressed together and swaying to the music, your tongues were having their own party. 

When your breath became short, you carefully pulled yourself back with a dazed smile. 

Peter’s smile matched your own. The alcohol swam in vision, giving him adorable bleary eyes. He looked more relaxed than you had ever seen him. 

“Have you had your fill of dancing?” He asked once the song ended. 

You had forgotten you were even in a room full of people. You glanced around you, noticing Matt eyeing you from the other side of the room. He looked impressed, wondering if he had gotten the completely wrong impression of you. He raised his drink and winked in your direction as if to apologize for his own mistake. It made you giggle. You flipped him off with a smile. 

You turned back to Peter, the smile still lingering on your face. You were enjoying the tension between the two of you. You liked the dangerous excitement of rubbing up on Peter in the midst of a crowd. You were afraid of the moment ending if you left but your head was spinning and you needed some fresh air. 

“Let’s go back outside,” you offered. “The music is just as loud out there.”

Peter nodded in agreement. You had the feeling he would have gone anywhere you asked him to. He took your hand and tugged you towards the terrace. The entire glass wall opened up to make a seamless transition from the inside of the penthouse to the out. The night air felt cool in your throat. It helped soothe the pounding heartbeat in your chest. A coiled up excitement resided in the pit of your stomach from your adventures on the dancefloor. You wanted more. 

Peter pushed his way to the corner. It was the one place the lights failed to reach. It felt like a very purposeful spot to bring you. He turned around, leaning against the railing, and studying you with burning, passion filled eyes. His gazed forced your own downward, like he was a blazing fire, too bright and hot to stare at for too long. Except now you were now looking directly at what had been pressed against you. 

His dark, skinny jeans left little to the imagination. While the stiff material kept him from achieving his full potential, the bulging outline over his inner thigh was more than enough to get the idea of what he was working with. Truthfully, you had no idea what was considered large or small when it came to dicks. Like with alcohol, your knowledge was limited. But Peter looked quite big to you. He was clearly very excited to be in your presence. That was the nice thing about men. You could always tell when they were attracted to you. You were enjoying the power it made you feel. You felt sexy. Fuckable. 

You had been staring at it for too long. You needed to avert your eyes back to his face. 

When you finally forced your gaze back where it belonged, Peter was smirking at you. He had enjoyed watching you get lost in the sight. He liked knowing that his body was showing you how attractive he found you. He wanted you to know. It wasn’t a secret. Before you could allow yourself to be embarrassed, you twirled around, letting your skirt flare up around your thighs and started dancing again to the music. The perfect distraction. He caught you in his grasp, spinning you away from him, and then pulling you close. He was more suave than you gave him credit for. He might actually have some decent moves. 

You turned around in his hold, leaning your back against his chest. Peter’s arms naturally snaked around your waist to hold you to him. He tightened the hold so your bottom was rubbing once more against his bulge as you lazily swayed back and forth. Your dancing was more of a  gentle rubbing at this point but you didn’t mind. Whatever kept you locked to Peter was okay in your eyes. You wanted to keep him excited. 

His face leaned down, his cheek brushing against your hair, and you heard him inhale the scent of light, floral perfume. You could have sworn you felt his bulge twitch. You had to refrain from squeezing your own thighs together at the thought. Tingly, hot sensations were flooding your core. The need to thrust your hips or rub yourself on something was becoming stronger. 

You swore Peter could sense the subtle change in your breath because, as if he knew how aroused you were getting, his hands started to travel. They slid down your thighs until they reached the bottom of your dress, gliding the material through his fingers. 

“I’ve never seen you wear a dress like this before,” he breathed, voice ragged, in your ear. “I like it.” 

Your ears felt like they were burning, your chest was tight, your toes wanted to curl in your flats. All from the sound of his voice. Of course he had never seen you wear a dress like this. The only other time he saw you was in your early morning lab. He was used to your oversized cardigans, comfy leggings, and a permanent sleepy expression. 

His hand slipped under the loose hem of the dress. He hesitated, testing the waters to see if you’d say something, when no objects came he glided over your underwear to rest on your bare hips. The back of your skirt lifted with his wrists to expose the bottom cheeks of your butt. You could feel him lean back enough to get a quick look. He seemed to like what he saw because he almost immediately ground his hips against you. 

You couldn’t stop the gasping moan that fell from your lips. Your body felt alive. You could feel the jolt of electricity shoot from your nipples down to your clit. You pushed back, grinding your bottom into his erection. You had no idea what had gotten into you but you couldn’t stop. His obvious arousal only fueled your own spreading fire. 

Even your nipples were painfully erect. Your friend had assured you that this dress had a built in bra and you wouldn’t need to wear one. That was a load of bullshit because it was obvious how hard your nipples were poking out. Your breath was becoming labored. You were in the middle of a rooftop party, actively grinding on your lab partner, and drunk on whatever the hell energy Peter was giving off. It wasn’t even the alcohol that was making you act like this. It was all Peter Parker. 

You turned in his grasp, throwing your arms around his neck, and finding his lips. He fell back against the railing with your sudden enthusiasm. He managed to keep himself from falling and slid his leg between yours. Without even thinking about it, you rested your core against his thigh. The wetness seeping into your underwear was now blatantly evident to you. Give it a minute and Peter would surely become aware of it, too. 

His hands roved hungrily over your body without any more hesitation. You opened your mouth, letting in his tongue, as he fervently attacked your lips. You angled your hips downward and thrust them against his jeans. Your aching clit screamed in pleasure at the delicious friction. Peter was back under your skirt and cupping your bottom. He helped push you along, easing the aid of you grinding against his thigh. 

His mouth left yours to leave sloppy, wet kisses along your cheek and down your neck until he found a spot he liked. He suctioned his lips to a pulse point and began sucking and nipping at your soft skin. Your eyes rolled back, mouth parted, at how wonderful it felt. A mix of pain and pleasure. He was bruising your neck, claiming you as his own with a visible mark. You let him dominate you, manipulate you however he pleases. You were his. A slave for Peter Parker. 

When he slowly pulled back from your neck, a trail of saliva connected your skin to his bottom lip. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, the corner of his lips tugging into a satisfied smile as he admired his work. It was the sexiest thing you had ever seen in your entire life. 

“Do you need a break?” He whispered, his voice hardly heard above the obnoxious techno music now playing. 

You swallowed. You probably should stop. You should probably slow down. You were getting too lost in your own feelings. But you shook your head “no”. You didn’t want him to stop. You didn’t want to have to pull yourself away from him. 

“I told you,” you whispered back, resting your forehead against his. “I’m not innocent.” 

“Are you sure about that?” He asked, the amusement coating his voice. “If I dragged you into the nearest coat closet right now, what would you do?” 

You didn’t hesitate in your reply, lust dripping with every syllable, “I would let you touch me however you wanted.” 

That was it.

Peter shoved his way past any person who stood in his way. He lead you through the crowd, swerving and weaving between sweaty bodies. The penthouse was huge. The first door he opened was the bathroom but it left too much probability of someone potentially needing to use it. The next was a guest bedroom. That one was already taken. The three people inside of it weren’t too pleased to see two more show up unannounced. The third was nearest to the elevator. It was a narrow, walk-in closet filled with fancy coats and shoes. 

“Jackpot,” Peter muttered under his breath. 

He pushed you inside and shut the door behind him. It was decently sound proofed in here with all the jackets. The music instantly muffled into the distance. You tugged on a gold chain hanging from the ceiling to flick on a single bulb. It wasn’t much light but it was enough. You turned to face Peter, the spell from outside starting to crack as the nerves set in. You might not have been entirely truthful when you told him you’d let him touch you however he wanted. The thought of losing your virginity in a closet wasn’t exactly how you envisioned it. 

Peter’s smile softened when he caught the apprehensive glint in your eye. He reached out his hand and tugged you close to him as he leaned against the door, making sure no one could enter. He placed a gentle kiss to your forehead. 

“Remember when I told you were fuckable earlier?” He asked. 

You nodded. 

“Well,” he continued. “I didn’t mean to imply that you were nothing more than a quickie in a stranger’s closet. I hope it didn’t come off that way and that was the impression you got. This might have gotten a little out of hand. We might have gotten a bit carried away.” He took a step away from the door so you could leave if you wanted to. “If you want to go, it’s okay, I won’t stop you. I had enough fun tonight to last me a lifetime. Just being able to dance with you made my day.” 

You gave him a light shove, pushing him back in front of the door to act as a human lock, taking back control, “I never said anything about leaving.” You took a deep breath, being brave, and trying to advocate for exactly what you wanted from him. “What I said still stands. You can touch me however you want but just with your hands. Okay?” You trailed a finger down his forearm, grazing over his wrist, and locking fingers with him. “If you want to go, it’s okay, I won’t stop you.”  

His smile grew when you repeated his own sentiment back to him. To help build back up the same electric energy from outside, you pressed closer to him and grazed your breasts against his chest, letting him feel how erect your nipples were. He tenderly cupped your cheeks with his large hands and captured your lips with his.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time,” he mumbled against your lips. His kiss was slower than the other two like he was really savoring the moment. You felt special. Wanted. Beautiful and sexy all at the same time. The way he worshiped your lips made you feel like the only woman left in the world. Maybe you were. Maybe nothing existed outside of this closet. All that was left was you and Peter. 

“Mmph,” was all you could manage back. Very articulate. 

And, just like that, you were back under the Parker spell. 

His hands made a slow descent away from your cheeks. They traveled down your neck, pausing for his long fingers to gently wrap around it, making you feel small inside his grasp. They brushed over your shoulders, toying with the thin straps to your dress, inching them to the side until they fell down the slope of your arm. The back of his fingers traced over the swell of your breast, letting the hard nub of your nipple feel every bump as he dragged each of his four fingers slowly over it. He was taking his time, carefully watching your every move and listening for every hitch of your breath. He was treating you like a precious piece of art that was meant to be admired and painstakingly inspected under a magnifying glass so as not to miss any precious details. 

The pooling wetness between your thighs caused your soaked through underwear to cling uncomfortably to you. You wished you could remove them but still felt too nervous to make any moves and distract Peter from his work. You stood still as a statue, lids half closed, as he molded his hand to your breast. Your eyes gazed up at him, helpless under his touch, the sounds of your heavy breaths the only thing you were now able to hear. 

A quiet moan whined in your throat when he pinched your nipple through your dress, capturing it between the knuckles of his middle and pointer finger. He shuddered at the sound, giving a sharp inhale. He wanted to hear it again. His free hand wrapped around your thigh to close the miniscule gap between your hips. He thrust his hips forward, rubbing himself against you, as he molded your breast in his hand.

“Can-” he breathed. “Can I?” 

His fingers slipped into cups of your dress, starting to tug them down to imply what he was asking, and pausing to look to you for confirmation. You gave a silent nod. 

Peter nearly stopped breathing as he tugged the top half of your dress down to reveal your naked breasts. His eyes were alive with flames while he took in the new sights. He tenderly cupped under your breast, giving it a gentle squeeze, watching as your flesh melded to his touch. His mouth opened and closed a few times, like he was begging to capture your nipple between his lips, but he stuck to the “only hands” rule, using his thumb to flick over it instead. 

Your hardly audible moans hit his ear. The sound must have awoken something in him because he responded to it with a whimper of his own. You glanced down to his crotch. His erection was thicker than before. It looked painfully locked up behind the confines of his jeans. You wanted to unleash it, let it be free, but you were too scared to take that leap. 

Peter didn’t seem to care about what his cock was feeling. He was too focused on losing himself in your body. He was more of a giver and a taker, you could tell. His hand still gripping onto your hip started to get more daring. You felt him sliding closer to your core. His fingers traced over the elastic band of your underwear, circling around the tiny, ribbon bow adorning the top. If you had known this was how you would end up tonight, you would have bought something sexier. That concern immediately flew from your thoughts as his fingers slipped between your thighs. His palm rested over your mound while the pads of his finger tips traced along the drenched material. His ragged inhale was all you needed to know to understand how turned on that feeling made him. 

“You’re so wet,” he growled in your ear. 

“Mm,” you croaked out, eyes closed. Words were no longer something your brain had access to. 

You bit your bottom lip the harder he pressed your panties against your slit. The thin cotton material was the only thing holding him back from entering you. 

Peter lifted his other hand to brush under your chin. He lifted your head so you were forced to look up at him. You pried your eyes open, staring at him through heavy lids. Your mouth hung open to accommodate your panting breaths. He locked eyes with you, looking into your soul, as he slipped the wet fabric to the side. 

You gave a silent, wide eyed cry when his finger grazed over your bare slit. Your stomach seized, nearly doubling you over, in excitement. You felt your folds open to his touch. His leg resting between yours nudged your ankle, telling you to spread your legs open a little wider for him. You clutched onto the front of his shirt, grabbing a fistful of it into your grasp. Without it, you felt like you might collapse. The look of lust etched into his features caused you to nearly orgasm on the spot. Your body was trembling, craving more, nodding your head as if that would make Peter work faster instead of slowly dragging everything out at a crawling pace. 

He leaned down, whispering in your ear, “I’m going to make you cum for me.” 

That nearly did it. You whimpered, letting your eyes close again. Peter tugged your underwear down your legs. They stopped at your knees, the width at which you were standing not allowing them to go any further. It was enough. His hand cupped between your thighs, rubbing you, teasing you. You grind your hips, thrusting your clit against his palm. He gave a soft chuckle, enjoying how desperate you had become. 

“Fuck, you’re pretty,” he mumbled to himself. 

His long fingers moved gently on you, caressing your wetness, feeling how easily they slid through the slickness you were creating for him. All for him. He continued to simply feel you until you gazed back up at him. He was waiting for your eye contact. Your heart was pounding, waiting for the inevitable, and surrendering yourself over to him. The moment you locked on, he eased his middle finger between your parted lips while his thumb brushed slow circles around your clit. It was the first time a man’s finger had ever touched your sex. You felt the pressure, felt the fear, felt the excitement and the slight searing of pain at how tight you were. You whined as the pain and pleasure mixed to create an intense, swirling storm deep in your sex. Your pussy felt like it was sucking him in, trying to eat him whole, the deeper he sank into you. 

You clung to the front of his shirt, balled up fists, and tears spiking in your eyes. It felt so good. More intense than anything you’d ever felt. You’d touched yourself before but Peter was different. Better. You were sharing the moment, giving up control, and letting someone else learn the intimate details of your body. Your legs were shaking. Your knees felt weak. 

You buried your head into Peter’s neck as he started a steady, slow rhythm of easing his finger half way in and out of you. He focused most of his attention on servicing your throbbing clit. He could tell you were a virgin, he could tell how tight you were squeezing him, and he wanted to go as slow as possible so as not to hurt you. Even a single finger felt like it was filling you up. You were moaning against his neck, whimpering, whining, beginning for more. Your hips worked with each small thrust of his finger, trying to push it deeper. You thrust your clit against his thumb. Your body was taking over as you tumbled towards a climax. 

Peter’s lips were pressed against your ear. He whispered quiet words of encouragement, urging you on, praising you, comforting you. The night was all starting to meld together. The slutty dress, vodka, the obnoxiously loud music, how easily Matt rejected you with nothing more than a few words, finding Peter, dancing together, Britney Spears, the passionate terrace make out, the closet and how sweet Peter had been to quell your obvious fears, the way his finger felt so big inside of you. The entire night was swirling around your thoughts. A tornado building inside your brain. Ready to wipe out anything it touched. 

“That’s it,” Peter whispered over your pathetic whines. “There you go. Cum for me. You’re right there. Let it go. Let it happen.” 

You gave a sharp cry as light exploded in your vision. The tornado tore straight through you, ripping your mind from your body. You were floating in the air. High above everything else. You had no control of the way your body jerked and spasmed, held tightly against Peter’s chest. You’d never experienced an orgasm this powerful. It would have brought you straight to your knees had Peter not been holding you upright. 

He wrapped his arms around you, tracing his fingers over your back and up your neck. He soothed you with a quiet humming until your mind came crashing back down to earth. You were shaking, shivering, eyes glued closed. Peter was your one tether to cling on to. He kept you grounded as you let the tornado fade off into the distance. 

When you finally managed to get your bearings once more, you took a shaky step back from him. He kept his arms outstretched in case he needed to suddenly catch you if you decided to crumble. You shrugged the straps of your dress back up and adjusted the chest so your breasts were back to being concealed. 

Peter had given you a gift you didn’t even know you were looking for. You wanted to repay the favor but you didn’t think your body could handle anything more tonight. Instead, you slipped the underwear still clinging around your knees down to your ankles. You carefully stepped out of them. He watched in a silent curiosity as you closed the gap between you two, stuffing them into the pocket of his jeans. 

“To give you something to remember me by,” you stood on your tippy toes, planting a kiss on his cheek. A sweet, innocent kiss. 

He looked at you with an awe, loved filled gaze as you pushed open the closet door and stumbled into the hallway. 

When he didn’t follow, you glanced over your shoulder with a sly smirk, “Well? Are you coming?” 

#tasm x reader #peter parker x reader #tasm #the amazing spiderman #peter parker #tasm peter parker #tasm peter #tasm peter x reader #tasm peter smut #tasm peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker smut #andrew garfield #spiderman #tasm fic #peter parker fic #blooming violets #blooming violets fic #not so innocent

[bitchyycapricorn]

🎃Ali’s Kinktober 23’ Masterlist🎃

Masterlist

Kinktober Info!

Character’s and kinks can repeat!

Art Dealer: @spooky-ghost0o0 (follow this spooky boi his art is so cute!)

AN: Unfortunately I am no longer active on this account and won’t be completing the prompts <\3 I am so sorry to anyone waiting, I appreciate all your support and love you all so very much <3

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽

Kinkshot 1: Peter Parker + Praise

Kinkshot 2: Sub!TASM Peter Parker + Overstimulation

Kinkshot 3: Harry Potter + Soft!Dom

Kinkshot 4: Theodore Nott + Ice Play

Kinkshot 5: Mattheo Riddle + degrading & Slapping

Kinkshot 6: Theodore Nott + Praise

Kinkshot 7: Tobey!Peter Parker + Bodyworship & Overstim

Kinkshot 8: Mattheo Riddle + Breath play

Kinkshot 9: Professor!Remus + NonCon & Age gap

Kinkshot 10: Sirius Black + Lingerie

Kinkshot 11: Narcissa Malfoy + Surprise Kink(s)

Kinkshot 12: Theodore Nott & Mattheo Riddle + Heavy Degradation & Dumbifcation & Dubcon

Kinkshot 13: Remus Lupin + Bondage & Praise

Kinkshot 14: Draco Malfoy + somnophilia & praise

Kinkshot 15: Mattheo Riddle + Bodyworship & Public Sex

Kinkshot 16: Theodore Nott + somnophilia

Kinkshot 17: Remus Lupin + Praise & Mirror

Kinkshot 18: Draco Malfoy + Dumbification & Degradation

Kinkshot 19: Theodore Nott + Mutual Masterbation

Kinkshot 20: James Potter + Innocence

Kinkshot 21: Tom Riddle + Choking

Kinkshot 22: Harry Potter & Draco Malfoy + threesome

Kinkshot 23: Mattheo Riddle + dubcon & public sex

Kinkshot 24: Draco Malfoy + Sub/soft!dom & public sex

Kinkshot 25: Tom Riddle + breeding

#tasm peter parker smut #Peter Parker smut #Harry Potter smut #draco malfoy smut #Remus lupin smut #sirius black smut #regulus black smut #theodore nott smut #mattheo riddle smut #Tom riddle smut #Harry Potter x reader #Remus lupin x reader #Draco Malfoy x reader #Mattheo riddle x reader #Theodore Nott x reader #kinktober #smut shot

[reidslovely]

If Your Love is in Trouble (Part One)

"If you're asking yourself, "How do you know?" Then that's your answer" Lana Del Rey, Margaret

Playlist here.

Authors Note: Yes, I am starting another series. Maybe I'll actually finish this one. This was born after playing Spider-Man 2, and I have no explanation for it, I just really wanted an excuse to write this. I know many people aren't into love triangles and that's cool. I still hope you guys read and enjoy because it will predominantly be Peter/Reader.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Fem!Reader x Harry Osborn

Content Warning: Slight mentions of suicidal ideation, couple swear words, pretty tame for the most part right now. Few mentions of a old hair color reader had.

Please reblog, and throw a comment in if you'd like!

“I can’t believe he’s really gone.” Peter muttered as he sat crisscrossed on the pillows scattered on his bedroom floor turning his best friend's game boy over in his hands. (Y/N) frowned at her friend, her cheeks stained red and swollen from crying, the insides of her cheeks sore from being bitten. 

“I know..it’s not fair.”

 She rested her head on Peter’s shoulder, her arms wrapping around his torso. 

“Norman is fucking evil.” Peter mumbled out, a glance at his open door making sure May didn’t hear the swear fall from his lips. “..and a terrible father, he never deserved to have Harry. But that didn’t mean he had to ship him off. He could have lived here, May and Ben would have taken him in. That’s like their whole thing!” 

(Y/N) listened, she knew the hurt Peter was feeling, but she also knew he knew how Harry was feeling. The three of them had been inseparable since they were six, did everything together and went everywhere. But now Harry has gone to some fancy boarding school in the English countryside, not knowing when they’d ever see him again. 

“We still have each other.” 

Peter laughed sadly, his hand engulfing hers a childlike smile on his face the blue color on his braces catching her eye. “Yeah. And I’m not letting you go anywhere.” Peter wrapped his arm around her neck, pulling her down ruffling her hair. (Y/N) screamed out, thrashing around laughing, trying to fight Peter off. 

“Okay you two, okay. Dinner is ready c’mon.” Ben says from Peter’s doorway looking at the middle schoolers. Peter let go of the girl, holding his hand out for her to take helping her up. Ben stood back as the two bursted out of the door, racing one another down the stairs into the warmth of the kitchen. The smell of May’s cooking filling the homey kitchen, a news anchor talking excitedly on the small TV on the counter. 

…

Though the kitchen hadn’t changed in those seven years it was no longer warm, it no longer felt like a second home. The same new anchor talked on the TV, his voice no longer excited but now aged and filled with professionalism. (Y/N) looked around the once familiar area, now feeling like a vampire who’d crossed the threshold uninvited. But she had been invited, May stood in front of her two mismatching coffee cups in hand. 

“Take off your coat for a while.” 

She coaxed, motioning at the spring jacket on her shoulders. (Y/N) smiled at May’s motherly nature, she hadn’t changed a bit since the last time she’d seen her. Her head had a few more grays on it, and she was wearing her reading glasses more but other than physical she was the same old May. 

“I’m so glad I caught you walking, I was gonna call and have these sent to you but..I’ve been wanting to see you anyways.” 

“I know May, I’ve missed you. Sorry, I just..I've been..so busy.” 

May squinted her eyes, her crows feet becoming prominent. It was never an easy task to lie to May, she saw through everything. 

“I bet.” But, she always let the lie continue. May sat at the bar stool, the small photo book in hand as she opened it. (Y/N) settled next to her drinking out of the homemade Spider-Man cup, looking at the first set of photos. Three kids smiled in front of a carousel of horses, two boys and a girl standing in the middle. (Y/N) smiled, her mind flashing to the blonde boy in the photo, thinking about the last time they’d talk. Her eyes followed their muscle memory and looked at the scrawny brunette boy in the photo, his head resting on hers as he held up a peace sign. 

“Ben and I basically had to drag you three out of that park when that silly little carousel popped up. It was your favorite part.”

“We used to spend hours there. I used to steal money out of my dad’s wallet to get us rides for the whole week.” 

May laughed, nodding her head. (Y/N) smiled at the memory of her thumb rubbing over the slightly aged photo, it felt like her heart shook with grief for what they once were. 

“Now this..this is my favorite.” 

May held up a photo of two ghosts. 

One clad in an awkward fitting sports coat and slacks, the other in a deep blue dress and poorly dyed red hair. In Peter’s scratchy handwriting ‘Junior year winter formal’ was written on the back. (Y/N) swallowed harshly, but smiled at the image. 

“You two looked so cute. Your red hair really was something.”

“Mhm, I forgot the last time you saw me I was still a redhead!” (Y/N) hummed softly, sliding the photo back into its slot in the photo album. May hummed, putting her hand against her cheek. 

“When was the last time?” 

“It was ..I dunno, senior year we just got on christmas break, I had come by because I hadn’t heard from Peter in a couple weeks and I was worried. He’d gone upstate with Gwen’s family, and you gave me that knitted scarf and beanie set.” 

“Oh that’s right!” May smiled, grabbing onto (Y/N)’s forearm. “Have you two talked at all?”

(Y/N) laughed awkwardly, her hand coming up to push her hair out of her face. She shook her head rapidly. “No, I'm pretty much on the outskirts of his life now. I think we both go out of the way to avoid one another.” 

May shook her head, her nephew's behavior never failing to amaze her. “Whatever happened, have you two tried to fix it?”

“I dunno May, we just…grew apart. He had Gwen, photography and science club…and his other extra activities.” (Y/N) shrugged her shoulders, her hand patting May’s that rested on her forearm. “We grew up I guess.” 

May looked at her and it felt like she saw right through her, saw her heart and how Peter had smashed it into a million pieces. (Y/N) pulled her arm gently from May grabbing the coffee cup and taking a long sip. “Oh my god! Is this you and Ben?” It was a quick and easy subject change that May would allow. 

The front door opened and May turned her head. “Peter, why don’t you come into the kitchen? I have something I want to show you. I finally pulled those photos down from the attic!” 

(Y/N) looked around the kitchen like an animal being caged in, she looked for a quick escape but she could never move that quietly. So she settled with tucking her face away behind May’s figure and maybe if she willed enough she’d turn invisible. 

Peter's footsteps turned into a quick jog throughout the house. “May why would you..I told you I’d..” Suddenly all sound stopped. Time felt like it’d stopped with it. 

Peter had grown a couple inches since the last time they’d seen one another, she thought he’d looked taller in his birthday post on instagram but maybe she’d just started forgetting what he looked like. He’d finally cut his hair, and started dressing in more fitting clothes. He had become a full adult in the time they’d been apart, it felt like just yesterday they were eighteen year olds hanging out at the skatepark.  

“Hey.” He spoke softly, shock in his voice. 

“I caught her walking home- thought she’d like a trip down memory lane.” 

“Hey Pete.” (Y/N) spoke finally, her eyes following him as he walked to the fridge grabbing out the creamer and making his own cup of coffee. May had opened her mouth to speak before being cut off by the house phone. May grabbed (Y/N)’s shoulder as she stood. 

“I’ll be right back.” 

Silence, that was once comfortable and knowing, filled the room awkwardly. (Y/N)’s eyes locked to Peter’s back watching his movements. 

“Happy belated birthday.” 

Peter turned to look at her after the words left his mouth. She could laugh, at least he remembered one thing. 

“Yeah, yeah you too. We’re twenty, pretty odd huh?’

“Yeah..I feel like I’ve lived six times that.” 

(Y/N) nodded awkwardly, dropping her eyes from him and looking at the winter formal photo in her hands. Her phone vibrating from the counter, both of their eyes immediately looking at it. 

‘Harry - Hey, sorry we got cut short last night’

‘Harry - I’m actually grabbing a flight right now, I should be there tomorrow afternoon.’

She clicked the power button flipping it over. “How’s huh Gwen?” 

Peter nodded and leaned on the counter, his finger tapping a couple of the scattered photos. “Uh..well. Good, I think. We..broke up.” He spoke quickly, rolling his hand in a circle motion as he spoke. He looked up at her, for what felt like the first time in forever. She nodded, a frown on her lips. 

“I’m..really sorry to hear that Pete. I thought for sure you guys would..be together forever.” 

“Yeah me too..” He slumped his shoulders and shook his head. “Sometimes things just don’t work out.” 

“Tell me about it.” She laughs, it came out more bitter than she intended. Peter nodded, his lips pulling down at the notion. Maybe he knew he owed her a slew of apologies, maybe he was oblivious. She’d rather he be the latter. Clearing her throat she slipped out of the bar stool, grabbing her jacket off the back of the chair. 

“I should go. I have an assignment due at six I should get started on.” 

“Oh yeah, yeah.” Peter sniffled, his thumb rubbing against his nose. He pressed his fists into the countertop, his fingers popping as he did so. “Let me walk you home.” He offered up, rushing to get his coat from the living room. (Y/N) panicked, her mind moving at a million miles a second. Her brain refuses to process any type of response other than a small yes that she doesn’t even think he heard.

Taking the couple seconds alone she had she messaged Harry back: ‘So excited to see you! Miss your face :)’ 

“Ready?” Peter asked, he returned with a denim jacket on his shoulders, hands shoved into his pockets. (Y/N) pocketed her phone nodding at him, Peter reached around her holding the back door open for her as they stepped out into the slight chill of the spring weather. The two rounded the side of the house heading down the block. Peter fell into his previous routine, he always took the side of the sidewalk closest to the road, keeping (Y/N) on his inside. She smiled at him, dropping her gaze to her feet.

“I’ve been a terrible friend.” 

It wasn’t what she expected to fill the silence. Her mouth fell open, before closing again quickly trying to think of a response. 

“I like..totally left you hanging and I just..I’m really sorry that was so fucked up. There was just.” Peters fumbling through his words, it’s not an apology, but she’ll take it. 

“Hey Pete, it’s all good. We were kids, and hey what can you do it happened. I played a part in it too. We had a lot going on.” 

“You were always trying to excuse my bad behavior, I was a bad friend. I can admit that now, I should have admitted that two years ago.” 

(Y/N) shakes her head, a laugh falling out of her lips, her hand coming up to wave it off. 

“We were hormonal teenagers Peter, and that got in the way. I’m not mad, I missed you a lot. But maybe it was what we needed to grow.”

“I know but I should have said something. I left you on a fucking rooftop, I..” 

“I love you Peter, and I just need to know if you love me.” She screamed over the flow of the traffic below them. Sirens sounding off in the background felt like she was being laughed at by everyone. Peter’s face was numb, filled with shock as he held his mask in one hand, his bruised eyes searching her face. “I’m so confused. I don’t know what to think.”

“I don’t..I don’t know. I dunno, either.” 

He shook his head, the sound of the city around him felt like an icepick being stabbed into the back of skull. (Y/N) took a step back, wind blowing against her face whipping the dyed red hair around across her face. She turned and looked over the edge, before looking at him. Jumping from the 20th something floor felt like a better option than hearing whatever Peter had to say. 

“I just..is there a chance or is this all for..nothing? Am I holding out for nothing?” 

The sirens got louder, and Peter looked between the red head and the flashing sirens below them. 

“I’m sorry, we can talk later!” Peter swore as he slid the mask on his face, in a flash he’d thrown

himself over the side of the building a flash of red swinging off into the sky. 

The memory crawled into the forefront of her mind and for once it didn’t make her want to claw herself out of her skin. Peter’s hand had creeped out of his jacket pocket and into hers, his hand interlocking with hers. (Y/N)’s lips pulled down in a bittersweet smile, her thumb rubbing across his. For a moment she’s convinced herself nothing changed, for a moment she’s in school sneaking kisses with Peter in the darkroom of the photography club. Waiting for him by his locker ready to trade lunches for the day with silly notes written on the inside. 

“It hasn’t changed a bit.”

 Peter laughed as they reached the front stoop of her home, his hand still in hers. It was comforting, both having a sneaking feeling of home that they hadn’t felt in almost two years. However, the moment died quickly. Peter let go of her hand, stepping in front of her slightly as he looked around. (Y/N) furrowed her brow as she opened her mouth to talk, the scrapping of a chair drew her attention to the corner of the porch, a figure standing up. 

“Mhm that’s what I said. I gotta say though I don’t remember the glass in the window being pink”

The deep voice drew the friend's head towards the sound, (Y/N)’s jaw dropping as she grabbed a tense Peter’s shoulder. 

“Harry!”

They both yelled. The sandy blond started down the steps, (Y/N) took off meeting him half way engulfing him in a hug. Peter stood back in shock, looking at his lost friend as if a ghost had just crawled out of its grave in front of him. A small vibration of alert hanging in the back of his skull as the two embrace.

Taglist: @moonyslove78 @helloheyhihowdyheya @sincericida @tarzinnia @a-lumos-in-the-nox @adhdhufflepuff @messymissy @hollandweather @toomanyfictionalboyfriends @eevylynn @ateliefloresdaprimavera @someblessedmonster

#tasm peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker #tasm!peter imagine #tasm peter x reader #tasm andrew garfield #andrew garfield #tasm peter smut #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter x you #tasm peter x you #tasm peter #tasm peter parker x reader smut #tasm peter parker smut #tasm peter parker imagine #tasm! peter parker x reader #tasm!spiderman x reader #tasm!peter parker #tasm! peter parker smut #tasm! peter parker fluff #bambi writes