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#TASM!Peter Parker x reader
luveline · 2 days
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would you be in the mood to write something for peter parker x reader?? it’s been a while since i’ve read anything new for him and i’m missing my boy :( maybe something about things getting heated while making out with peter but he knows reader isn’t ready to go any farther so he has to stop them, and then maybe reader feels guilty for not being ready bc they feel like they’re stringing him along? a good mix of (semi)smut & fluff & angst haha. thank u angel i love u <3
ty for requesting, love u <3 fem!reader, 1k
cw suggestive content
“Is that okay?” he whispers. 
You’re nearly too busy trying to kiss him to whisper back. “Yeah, Peter, just–” Fully too busy. 
Peter enjoys being on top of you for two reasons; the first, the most imperative in the moment, is because it flicks a switch in your mind that has you all flustered and breathless under his touch, your chest heaving something sorry and your hands a frenetic back-and-forth between roaming and limp on his back; and the second, his guilty pleasure, is that he’s in an optimal position to slide his knee between your thighs and listen for your breathless sigh. 
He says your name between kisses to catch your attention, finds he can’t quite get it as your mouth closes up on his and your spit wets his lips. Your hand wanders under his shirt. 
Peter has been worse than shirtless around you, a consequence of his strange after-classes hobby, but he’s not so sure you’re ready to peel him out of it. Your fingers ride up his spine. 
He fishes your hand from behind him to hold it above your head. 
“Hey,” he says, pulling back, your eyes lit and aligned with one another, the brightest light in the room. It feels wrong to speak into the dark like this, disrupting your whispers and your quick breathing. “You don’t wanna do that.” 
“I do,” you say. He’s no genius, but he sees the wobble of your lashes for what it is, sudden regret. 
“It’s okay, bub. We got too heavy too fast,” he laughs. 
You bite the inside of your lip as he sits up. It’s his fault, he shouldn’t have kissed you like that, definitely shouldn’t have let his leg slide up against you, what was he thinking? He’s kissed you so hard your lips are swollen. 
You use the flats of your palms to clamber up against the headboard. Your heart is a thudding he can’t ignore, triply loud, and his own pulse is rocketing too. 
“I’m sorry,” you say. 
“No, that’s okay,” —he reaches for the hem of your sweatpants to tug them back over your hip and stomach— “I was bearing down on you, I shouldn’t have– I–” Peter Parker levels of stuttering occur, to which he can’t subject himself, hiding his face in his hands. 
There’s a small silence. Peter attempts to calm down. Your heart rate slowly drops. 
“I really am sorry, Pete.” 
His neck cricks as he lifts his head. “What?” He lets his legs fall to the side of the bed and shuffles up to the top to see you clearly, squishing the back of your thigh where your legs are up to his hip. “Come on, what do you have to be sorry for?” 
“I’m leading you on and stuff. Not cool.” 
“What? What are you talking about? I started it.” 
“I was giving it just as good as I was getting it,” you say with a regretful smile. “You’re just such a great kisser–”
“Don’t try and distract me, it’s working,” he teases. More seriously, he puts his hand on your knee, thumb pressing to the soft crease underneath it. 
“I shouldn’t kiss you like that if I’m not ready for it.” 
“Why not? You can kiss me whatever way you like, it doesn’t have to lead to anything.” 
“I’m winding you up. Boys don’t like that.” 
“I love it,” he says, dropping his chin to his hand to speak to you from just below your eye line. “I love everything you do, I love kissing you, it doesn’t mean you have to be ready for something else.” 
You don’t accept his reassurances as quickly as he’d like, leaning back, the rising valley of your chest and tummy two pretty not to look at even as something serious transpires. He adores you, your every hill and curve and rigid line, all of it, and he’d love to fuck you but there’s no rush. What do you need to rush for? Peter’s sure it’ll be just as much fun a few months down the line as it would’ve been tonight, but it’ll be perfect then, because you’ll be ready then. 
“Who cares what boys like anyways?” he mumbles, kissing your kneecap appreciatively. 
“I just don’t wanna mess it up, Pete. I really like you.” 
“You can’t mess it up, it’s not like that, we’re not like that. You mean a whole lot more to me than that,” he says, giving your thigh a squeeze. You meet his eyes with less shyness now, the beginnings of a smile like twitches at the corners of your mouth. “I like you more than you like me, anyways. You can string me along. String me up, if you want.” 
“String you up where?” you ask with a laugh. 
“From that statue on ESU?” 
“What? How would I do that?” 
“Get Spider-Man to help you.” 
You pull the leg he isn’t leaning on up toward your stomach, knee rubbing along the inside of your opposite thigh, the last trace of regret. “You’re sure you don’t care?” 
“Don’t care, don’t mind, just want you to be happy.” He kisses your knee. “I thought you’d know that by now.” 
You brace your face in both hands, letting out a long sigh. “I don’t know what I know when you do that thing to me. How about you keep your legs away from my legs for a little while?” 
Peter smiles like an idiot, hiding his eyes in your knee and his mouth behind your calf. He doesn’t mind being honest, but you’re making him nervous flirting like that and he isn’t allowed to kiss you again tonight. “I– I can do that. No leg stuff.” He leans away from you suddenly. “God, no leg stuff. You’re beautiful, I wish you didn’t worry about me.” 
“I’ll try not to, Pete.”  
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l0caltiredgirl · 4 months
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when i want fluff/angst fics and all i’m getting is smut
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the struggle is real
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ohcaptains · 2 months
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𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟.
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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.
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parkerpeter24 · 4 months
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quiet temptations
pairing ➳ tasm!peter parker x fem!reader
word count ➳ 2.3k
warnings ➳ SMUT. characters are 18+ and MINORS DNI. this contains depictions of fingering, oral (m recieving). fluff, peter being sweet but also horny-
summary ➳ you’re awfully quiet but peter can’t seem to take that.
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“is everything alright?” peter mumbled as he laid beside you. your back was to him, his arm wrapped around you, “you’re not talking.”
the bed you were laying on was warm, a thin blanket over the sheets because you got extra cold during the winters and a quilt that covered you and peter both. your fingers danced against the wall adjacent to the bed, feeling the cold plaster contrasting peter’s own fingertips that danced on your waist, under your sweatshirt.
“you gonna talk?” he placed a kiss on your hair that was loosely tucked behind your ear, making it fall over your eyes. chuckling when he heard you groan and push the lock of hair back in its original place, “so.. no?”
you sighed softly.
“that’s alright.” peter responded, feeling as if he was just talking to himself now, “we don’t need to talk if you don’t want to.”
the sound of your hum was accompanied by peter’s hand gliding under your sweatshirt and caressing your stomach. he was careful, as if you were made up of glass, watching out for any signs of refusal on your face but your features looked solemn, unchanging.
he sighed, not being able to hold in his concern, “alright, just nod if everything is okay…”
he waited for you and surely you did nod after a few seconds, making peter’s worries dissipate.
“what’s gotten you so quiet?” he tried to get you to talk, his fingers taking a detour from trailing upwards, making contact with the elastic hem of your sweatpants– which originally belonged to him, “‘cause one way or another, i’m gonna hear that pretty voice.”
you felt your face heat up but peter still didn’t notice any change in your expression. if he couldn’t see the blinking of your eyes and sense changing breathing pattern, he’d have assumed you were asleep.
“at least tell me you want this.” he mumbled into your neck, pressing his lips against your exposed skin.
“yeah.” you mumbled and peter wasted no time in sliding his hand under the fabric of your lower, arm holding your body against him. you let out a soft breath as his fingers travelled lower. his middle finger slid your panties to the side before making contact with the skin. he pressed soft kisses to your neck before his nimble finger delved into your folds.
a leg pressed between both of yours, parting your thighs as he nestled a warm hand against your sex.
you let out a soft sound, clutching onto the quilt. his finger sank deeper until he found the earliest bit of your arousal and pulled it out, wanting to spread the wetness everywhere.
his finger travelled up to your clit, circling around it and you bit your lip when he fucked it back into you, knuckle deep. he groaned softly, loving the way your muscles almost clenched his finger.
he repeated his actions a few more times until you couldn’t hold back the soft needy moans that he beyond waited to hear. you felt his teeth sink into the skin of your neck before he sucked that spot, soothing the sting from the bite.
you moaned when he curled his finger, trying to search for a spot that would make your sounds louder. his finger dipped into you inch by inch every time, showing he was in no hurry.
peter’s arm was strongly keeping you pressed against himself as you started to arch your back. he could tell you were getting needy but he wished to hear something from you– even though he was loving the musical moans you were letting out.
he pressed his ring finger into the mix, adding it when he pumped them into you the next time. his face pressed further into your hair when you tried to get away. he could tell you needed more– you were writhing, trying to grind your hips into his already hard cock– but he kept going at the slowest pace he could. one brush of his fingers against your most intimate spot and your lips parted in a loud gasp.
you tried to arch your back which only led to peter’s arm pressing harder against your abdomen. his lips were pressed together, letting out soft hums which accompanied each one of your moans as if encouraging you.
he pulled out both his fingers, fucking in again and then back out and in again until it became a faster rhythm. squelching sounds filled the mostly silent room as his leg parted yours even further.
peter rolled his fingers into you continuously, the heel of his palm nudging against your clit which had your eyes rolling to the back of your head, “pete-” you gasped, “m-more.”
the desperation in your voice made peter grind into your ass. his fingers fucked you faster, holding your legs apart, curling them into you just right until you were jutting your hips, chasing your high.
“good girl.” peter mumbled, “keep it up, baby.”
his fingers moved continuously in and out of you. he could tell you were close with the way you clenched his fingers, however before the coil in your abdomen burst, his fingers pulled out of you, a soft wet sound following it– completely opposite to the loud whine that left your mouth.
“oh my god- why’d you stop?!”
“now you wanna talk?” he mumbled into your hair.
you felt your cheeks heating up further than they were. you hid your face into the pillow, but peter wasn’t letting that happen. he tugged at your chin with his free hand, “oh, baby. trust me, i want you to cum.”
you whined, biting your lip softly at his dirty words. you wondered if peter came prepared for this because no other day would you have expected such filthy words escaping his lips. he’d never done so before in all the times you two were intimate.
he turned you around gently, slowly pressing his forehead against yours as he brought up his fingers to his own lips, sucking them clean. he moaned at the taste as his tongue swirled around the digits, sending a wave of shivers up your spine and arousal to your core.
the second his fingers were released from between his soft, warm lips, your own pair replaced them, tasting remnants of yourself on his lips. you moaned softly, pressing your chest up against his.
“want you.” you breathed out heavily.
peter only shook his head, “not until you tell me what’s with the silence.”
“huh-” your brows pulled together in confusion, “you’re really not gonna-”
“first you tell me what happened.” he pecked your lips once, twice, and a few more times.
you sighed, pursing your lips as you tried to formulate what to say to him– or rather how.
when peter saw you struggle, opening your mouth and then closing it, he brushed a thumb against your cheek, “it’s okay, you should take your time.”
you nodded, feeling the warmth of his hand transfer to your cheek as your eyes met. his chocolate brown eyes swam with what you could identify as pure adoration.
“until then…” he mumbled, leaning in to kiss you.
soft at first, it escalated when he brushed his tongue past your lips, quickly finding yours in a slow yet passionate dance. peter pressed you against the mattress, handling the covers to stay over your bodies.
he wasted no time in moving his lips to your neck, hands going to hold your thighs apart as his thumb now brushed against your clothed thigh, kneading gently as his teeth nipped at your collarbone.
you gasped softly, letting him do as he pleased with you. as you held the back of his head with one hand, the soft, brunette sea of hair engulfed your fingers.
peter moved his hands to the hem of your sweatshirt, wasting no time in sliding it up past your chest, careful enough that you weren’t exposed to the coldness of the room. he dived under the quilt, wrapping his lips around one of your nipples, the other being knead in the palm of his fingers.
you gasped as peter’s tongue flicked the bundle of nerves, your stomach flush against his torso.
you could feel his lips curl into a smirk before he switched, rolling your sensitive left nipple between his slender fingers as he licked and pulled the right one in his mouth.
you were getting fidgety, squirming under peter as he felt your grip tighten on his locks, not enough to hurt. he moaned against your skin, placing a few kisses right under your breast, moving lower, now seeming in a hurry.
“pete-” you almost pleaded, finding your voice breathy.
his hands travelled under the pair of sweatpants, making quick work of sliding them down as he traced your thighs, down to your knees before you felt the material slide off you.
you lifted the quilt slightly, just wanting to get a glimpse of peter. the few rays of light that touched him weren’t fast enough to warn you as his lips pressed to the wet patch over your panties. you gasped and threw your head back.
you felt peter’s hot breath and the muffled sound of his moan from under the blanket. he pushed your thighs apart, diving deeper as his nose pressed against your clit, the fabric thick enough to make you grit your teeth, wanting his lips and tongue on you.
maybe peter heard the clenching of your teeth or the way that your hand found home in the tufts of his hair again but he was eagerly pushing down the material past your legs throwing it down to the floor.
you felt peter’s forearms lift your thighs as he shuffled closer to your core, licking up a bold stripe across your folds. your back arched but peter’s grip was keeping you against him.
for a moment you heard him groan as he retracted, “what’s wrong?” you breathed out, supporting yourself up on your elbows.
you almost laughed when his hand creeped out from under the quilt, holding his fogged up glasses out for you to take. with a chuckle, you held the frame between your fingers, quickly placing them to the bedside table.
as you laid your back against the bed, peter was quick to wrap his lips around your clit. you let out a moan as he licked and sucked on the bundle of nerves.
he held onto your thighs, keeping you firm against his lips as he explored the very intimate part of you. his tongue darted out, poking at your entrance, but not giving you enough time to notice that as he slid the muscle deeper against your walls.
you moaned, pressing a hand over your mouth to muffle the lewdest sound you’ve ever made. the bridge of his nose poked against your clit and peter only pressed deeper as his tongue delved in and out of you. it seemed as if he would see no tomorrow if he stopped making out with your dripping hole.
you arched your back, “pete- oh god-”
you felt him hum against you, sending your jaw drop open as you finally felt the pleasure crash all over your body. your toes curled and eyes rolled to the back of your head. you could swear this was the hardest you’d ever come before as goosebumps covered your arms.
you let out a sigh as peter helped you ride out your high, keeping up his ministrations. finally stopping, he placed a soft kiss over your clit, sending your body flinching at the action.
when peter climbed out from under the blanket, surely he looked like he needed to clean up. his chin dripping with your arousal and forehead all sweaty from being so long under the warm quilt.
“you need to wash your face.” you chuckled, brushing back a few locks of hair that were sticking to his forehead.
“and you need to tell me what’s wrong.” he mumbled and you sat up, adjusting your sweatshirt back down.
“it’s nothing-”
“and don’t you dare say it’s nothing.” he sat up as well, beside you, wiping mouth with the sleeve of his shirt– that thing was going in the washing machine the second this conversation was over.
“it’s… just… exams and stuff. you know how anxious i get.” you sighed.
“i know… but you don’t have to! there’s still a week left before-”
“okay, that may seem like a long time but trust me, it’s not.” you looked up at him, meeting the brown eyes that held concern, “i’m sorry, i… i was just overwhelmed. didn’t feel like talking.” you almost pouted, making peter pull you against his chest as he hugged you. you in turn wrapped your arms around his waist.
“trust me, i know how stressful exams can be. but it’s nothing you haven’t been through before.” he placed a soft kiss against your hair, making you hug him even tighter, “you got this, beautiful.”
“yeah, yeah, yeah. easy for you to say.”
he chuckled, “what’s that supposed to mean?”
“you’re like, i don’t know, the smartest guy of our whole generation.” you mumbled against his shoulder.
peter shrugged at that comment, “hey, even i watch youtube videos for help sometimes.”
“yeah, but you grasp every concept so quickly, like you don’t even have to try.” you looked up at him, blinking when you realised how that must have sounded, “...that was supposed to be a compliment.”
“you’re adorable.” peter chuckled, “how about we study together? i’ll make a time table; and don’t worry, it’s not going to be super chaotic, just a simple time table; and we can figure it out together. how’s that sound?”
you smiled at him, feeling your heart swell at the amount of his care, “sounds perfect.”
his smile mirrored yours, “thanks for telling me.”
you gave him a grin.
“now since i told you, can we fuc-”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
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urrockstar-xe · 3 months
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math test - p.parker x fem!reader
posted jan 27th, 2024 3:28 pm
came up with this cutesy idea the other day, hope u enjoy :)
summary: Peter's tired of allowing Spider-Man to be a shitty boyfriend, so he makes up for it the only way he can think of that wouldn't get you in trouble.
masterlist
not proofread
wordcount: 0.8k
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It was nearing 2 in the morning when Peter slowly lifted his window open from the outside, not so gracefully falling inside once it was a wide enough gap, followed by him stumbling several times as he tried to close his window while simultaneously trying to take off the red and blue spandex suit that so badly needs a wash.
The sound of his old bed frame creaking caught Peter’s attention once he finally pulled on some sweatpants. 
He whipped around, his gaze immediately falling to your half-asleep figure in his bed, a familiar sight now, one Peter had adored. Your half-opened eyes tried to focus on his silhouette. 
“Shit, hey sweetheart I didn’t mean to wake you” Peter’s whispered apology was laced with a soft muffled tone as he pulled a hoodie over his head, not bothering to fix his hair as he made his way towards his bed. “Didn’t know you were sleepin’ over tonight” He said with a tired smile playing on his lips, the bags under his eyes failing to distract you from the beauty that was your sleep-deprived boyfriend as you merely scooted over for him to join you. 
“Supposed to help me study for that test” you mumbled, no malice in your voice, no hints of irritation, not even a slight sadness to your voice at the thought of him forgetting about your plans. All you cared about at this moment was your boyfriend cuddling with you, using all your energy to open your arms for him to slide into. 
Peter stopped dead in his tracks, looking down by the nightstand and seeing your backpack on the floor, a math book sitting on the floor beside it next to a few pens. So that’s what he tripped on when he came in.
“Oh, man. I’m sorry, doll. We can work on it first thing in the morning, swear.” Peter promised, giving into what you wanted and sliding in bed next to you, wasting no time in wrapping you in his arms. 
“It’s due tomorrow, and I have to leave early for that dumb field trip.” You mumbled into his shoulder, not meaning to but making Peter feel all the worse for forgetting as he softly smoothed his hand up and down your back.
~
By the time Peter woke up the next morning you had already left, leaving behind a note on his desk.
”don’t think too hard about that test, I’ll just ask if I can have extended time on it. I’m just happy you got home safe” 
The little hearts surrounding your name at the bottom and the emphasis on him getting back at all seemed to have the opposite effect on Peter than you had intended. 
As now, he just seemed more determined to fix this problem he had made.
~
You laughed as your friend lifted her arms into the air, taking in a big deep breath as you both finally got off the bus, “freedom!” she exclaimed. 
“We have that test in like 30 minutes” You reminded her with a smile, earning a glare in response. “Buzzkill”
You chuckled this time, before watching her lift her finger and point behind you, turning as you followed where she was pointing, “that’s geek charming, what’s he doin’ here?” she asked quietly, expecting you to have an answer as you watched your boyfriend hurry over to you, green folder in his hand. 
“No clue, I’ll meet you inside” You smiled at her, watching her nod and smile back in response, walking backward towards the school while she obnoxiously waves and says “Hi, Peter!” 
Peter waved back, finally in front of you as he turned his gaze to see you already looking at him, with a soft smile. 
“Hey,” Peter matched your smile, holding out the folder to you before you could respond. “For your test, you forgot your math stuff in my room, so” 
You smiled, taking it gratefully, “Thanks, Petey. Although I don’t know how much help it’ll be-” Peter cut you off, “I mapped out in your notebook exactly how you can find any answers for the test and explained it in notes how I knew you’d be able to understand” You looked at him in awe as he rambled, watching as he took off his backpack and fumbled with it before pulling out your math notebook and handing it to you. “Peter-” “I almost wish I could take the test for you, I’ve just had so much to do lately as you know who and that’s no excuse for ditching my best girl when she needed my help so I figured this was the least I could do” Peter continued, taking a breath once he had finished. 
You set the folder and notebook down on the grass, pulling Peter into a tight embrace. “This is nice” he mumbled into your shoulder, squeezing your waist ever so slightly. “I love you, Peter Parker” You mumbled back, pulling back just enough to set a soft kiss to his lips. 
“I love you more, now go pass your test and make me proud, you can do that, can’t you, sweetheart?” Peter smiled at you, chuckling as you placed one, two, three more kisses on his mouth before pulling away and grabbing your stuff. 
“When I pass, you’re buying me dinner, baby!” You said, beginning to walk away.
“Whatever you want, doll!”
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bruisedboys · 4 months
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peter parker and “is that my shirt?” prompt would be so cute!
congrats on 6k
thank u angel! hope u like this!! join the celebration
tasm!peter parker x fem!reader
Peter’s missed you so much he actually feels kind of sick. He’s practically buzzing as he unlocks the apartment door and lugs his suitcase inside.
“Angel?”
There’s a loud and very cute squeal from down the hall. Rapid footsteps, and then you appear in your pyjamas, beaming bright as the sun, looking like the prettiest thing Peter’s ever seen.
“Peter!” You squeal, a ball of excitement. “Baby. Oh my gosh.” You cross the room and throw your arms around his neck. Peter laughs, his chest flooding with warmth, and hugs you back twice as strong.
“Hi, honey,” he says, lovelorn. You smell amazing. You look like an angel. You’re squeezing him to death. He’s missed you so much he could cry. “Holy moly, I missed you so much.”
You giggle, turn your face into the side of his head and drag your nose along his jaw. “I missed you more,” you say, lips hot on his skin.
A shiver runs down Peter’s spine. He’s only had you back for a half a minute and you’ve already got him shivering? Typical. “Impossible,” he tell you. He runs his hands down your back and up again as if to prove to himself you’re really there.
You laugh and pull back, bouncing on your toes, to look him in the eye. You’re so, so beautiful. Somehow prettier than when he left you, which seemed impossible but apparently isn’t, not for you.
You reach up and push a lock of hair from his eyes. Peter’s hypnotised. He doesn’t get how one girl can be so achingly lovely, so pretty and so sweet, but you manage it. He slides his hands down to your waist, feeling like he might explode if he doesn’t touch every inch of you. It’s then that he recognises the familiar fabric of your shirt. He looks down.
“Hey, is that my shirt?” He asks, raising his eyebrows. He nudges you backwards with his hips to get a better look. It is his shirt. His favourite one, which he didn’t pack for his trip because it suspiciously went missing the day before he left. “It is!” He exclaims, pinching at your side. “You had it this whole time?”
You giggle at his prodding, and try twisting yourself out of the way. Peter keeps a firm grip on you, hand spread over your ribs, his glare full of accusatory heat.
“I’m sorry!” You say, giggling like an idiot when he pinches you some more. “I missed you, okay? Is that such a crime?”
Peter makes a face at you but his heart’s soaring. “Well, if you count theft as crime then yeah, I would say so.”
You huff. “You’re so dramatic!”
“I’m dramatic?” Peter feigns offence, pulling his head back incredulously. “You’re the one who stole my—!”
Your lips land on his before he can finish his sentence. His words are lost to your mouth. You push up into the kiss, fervent and hot. Your fingers curl into his collar and brush over the column of his throat, and Peter forgets everything else. He kisses you back just as hard, one arm hooked around your waist and the other bent between your chests to hold your jaw.
“Never mind,” he says between kisses. “You can keep the shirt, baby.”
You laugh against his mouth.
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vivwritesfics · 1 year
Text
"I Know"
Peter Parker has the best girlfriend ever
1.1K
Peter Parker x Reader
I've been MIA for the longest time because the inspo just hasn't been there. But I've gotten away from university for a few days, and this is what came from my peaceful time alone
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"I'm so sorry, baby," said Peter. He stood on top of a building, watching a bank robbery happening opposite. A bag full of snacks and two pairs of his favourite pyjamas lay discarded beside him, and Peter made a mental note to pick it up later. The wind was biting, but Peter didn’t care. His attention was split evenly between his girlfriend and the bank robbery.
This was not the first time he had flaked on date night, and he knew it wouldn't be the last. He and his girlfriend both knew. But Peter Parker had the most understanding girlfriend in the world.
"It's okay, Pete," she said. Peter could picture her now, snuggled up in her bed, waiting to change into a pair of his pyjamas, with her snack basket filled and her laptop loaded up with a Christmas movie. "Go... save the world."
It wasn't quite saving the world, but she made Peter smile. She always made Peter smile. Y/N was the most understanding person in the world. "I'll be at yours as soon as I can. Don't open the chocolate without me."
After that, Peter had no choice but to hang up. The bank robbery had started to wrap up and Peter had to stop them. He put his phone in his bag, pulled his mask over his face, and swung down to the bank. "You guys have ruined my date night."
“What the fuck?” One of the bank robbers dropped his white bag filled with green notes and swung a bat at Peter.
It was cartoon-y, how these robbers were behaving. The white bags, the notes flying all over the place. Their ski masks weren’t masks at all, but unfolded beanies with the eyeholes cut out. “Wait, can I get a picture? My girlfriend is going to love this.”
***
Y/N’s family loved Peter. Somehow, he’d never been late to dinner with her parents. Either criminals decided to take the day off, to let Peter have his dinner, or for once somebody else was cleaning up the city in his stead.
But not tonight.
“I’ll be maybe ten minutes late,” he said as he swung through the city. His suit was discarded, but his tie was still around his neck.
Y/N had her phone between her shoulder and her ear as she put in a pair of earrings. Dinners like these were a big deal to her parents. The whole family dressed up fancy, all of her sibling’s partners were invited and they had at least three courses. “Pete, babe, it’s fine. I’ll cover you.” And, as she said it, she didn’t sound disappointed at all.
Peter really had the best girlfriend in the world. “Holy shit, I love you,” he said, only just noticing his tie. But it was too late to remove it now. “Please send me the cover story.”
They said their goodbyes (with Y/N begging him to stay safe) and went to do their things. Peter fought the bad guy, managing to keep his rather expensive tie intact. Y/N finished getting dressed for dinner and went downstairs to greet her parents.
Her siblings and their partners were already downstairs, drinks in their hands.
“There she is!” Called her brother as Y/N stepped into the room. He checked his watch and feigned a frown. “Not like that boyfriend of yours to be late, is it?”
With her hands clasped behind her back, Y/N rocked on her heels. “Actually, Peters gonna be late today,” she said, hoping they weren’t going to ask anymore questions.
“That Parker boy is never late,” her father said, “What’s holding him up?”
Before now, Y/N hadn’t thought of an excuse for Peter. She had just hoped they wouldn’t ask, and then he could’ve come up with his own backstory. (Peter had gotten good at that).
“Uhh…His house… caught fire? And his aunt… is in the hospital… with death?” oh yeah no this was not going well. “Oh! And the tire on his bike popped.”
Yes. That was very believable.
But nobody questioned it as Y/N sat beside her sister and her sister’s girlfriend. “He’ll be here soon.”
Her eyes shifted to the floor, which only made everything more believable. She pulled out her phone and sent Peter the cover story, just seconds before the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it!” She shouted, jumping up.
Racing to the front door, Y/N pulled it open to see Peter stood there, still sorting out his suit. “You are so lucky nobody else answered the door,” she said and buttoned up his shirt correctly. “I sent you over the cover story,” she whispered and kissed his cheek.
Pulling him into the house, Y/N pushed him towards her father. “Hello, Mr L/N! Sorry, I’m late, my tire burst.”
Suddenly, Y/N’s mother came running out of the kitchen. “Peter, my dear!” She shouted and pulled him in for a hug. “I’m so sorry to hear about May and your house. You can stay here for as long as you need!” She cried, running her fingers through her hair. He looked at Y/N with her brows furrowed. ‘Go with it’, she mimed. “How about we all go and visit May as soon as we’re finished with dinner?”
“Oh! Please, Mrs L/N. That’s not necessary.” Peter pulled away from his girlfriend’s mother and grabbed Y/N’s hand. “Can I have a word with you upstairs?” He asked her, and Y/N allowed herself to be pulled up to her bedroom.
As soon as the door was shut Y/N was wrapped around him. “I missed you,” she said, planting a kiss on his cheek.
“Missed me so much you told your family that May was in the hospital?”
“And that your house burnt down,” she said quietly, laying her head on his chest. “I know I said I’d cover for you, but I’m not very good at it, Pete.” Her arms snaked around his middle, sitting beneath his blazer.
Peter’s phone suddenly buzzed. He pulled it out of his pocket and frowned once he looked at it. “Oh god, what is it?” Asked Y/N, looking up at Peter with wide eyes.
“Baby, I love you but, I’ve got to go. I swear this’ll-”
“It’s okay, Peter, I know.”
Peter kissed her. It was slow, yet oh so intense. One of those kisses that makes you gasp. “I have the best girlfriend in the world.”
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fettuccin-e · 2 years
Text
I hope fanfiction writers know that I think of them like celebrities
I literally scream a little bit whenever one of them interacts with a comment i made on one of their posts like they are literally famous in my mind
thank you fanfiction writers you are literally sometimes the only thing keeping me alive 
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keerysfreckles · 4 months
Note
kinda really into a bestfriends w/ no boundaries with tasm!peter 👀
andrew’s just seems the touchiest haha <33
touchy feely fool – peter parker (tasm)
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pairing: tasm!peter x bff gn!reader
warnings: use of y/n, no specific pronouns mentioned, PETER FLUFF!!!!!!!!
a/n: IM BACK POOKIES RAAHHH
꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱
"peter!"
"y/n!"
you laugh, "why are you being so touchy today? i have to study for kaminksy's test."
"you're the smartest student in our grade. everyone knows you'll pass," peter responds, not daring to move his arms from hanging loosely around your neck.
"plus, you promised we'd have our movie night tonight, since someone bailed last weekend," he added.
"not really my fault i got sick pete," you answer, gaining a small chuckle out of the boy.
peter rests his chin on top of your head, watching as you continue writing flashcards for biology.
"are you almost done?" peter whines.
you giggle at his impatience, "i have four more cards peter. think you can wait that long?"
peter lets out a grumble for an answer, before flopping backwards onto your bed.
twelve minutes pass and just as promised, you stand from your desk chair to face peter. the boy instantly lights up, "are you done?"
you nod, "yes pete, now what movie do you want-"
before you can even get your question out, you feel your body being lifted off the ground. you can't help but laugh as you realize peter's holding you by your waist and running down your hallway towards your living room.
"peter!" your laughter continues, until he places you on the couch. "was that really necessary?" you move any hair that got in your face from the moment prior.
"yes, it was absolutely necessary," peter simply answers, before kneeling down and looking through the dvds beside the tv stand.
"you're an idiot parker," you can't help but smile.
peter smiles, "your favorite idiot."
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madwcman · 2 months
Note
hi! Can I request tasm! Peter w a f!short! reader who is always climbing on counters to reach stuff when he is not home? Him worrying about the bruises on her knees and catching her on the act
thank u in advance!
a/n: thank you for requesting!! ♡
pairing: tasm! peter x short! reader
“sweetheart, what are you doing?” you turn to your unimpressed boyfriend. his arms are folded over his chest and he has his eyebrows raised at you in question. you’ve been caught.
you were currently on your kitchen counter trying to grab a glass.
“nothing!” you quickly climb down from your kitchen counter, with a nervous smile. “we’ve talked about this,” he states firmly. and he’s right you and peter have had plenty of talks about you climbing on the counters. but it’s not your fault! you can’t reach things in your home, you usually ask peter to get things for you but when he leaves you resort to climbing.
“i know- but it’s not my fault!” you defend yourself, you walk over to peter and wrap your arms around him. “i know it’s not, but you need to be careful, i don’t want you hurting yourself.” he melts into your hug and kisses your head. “well what do you suggest i do?” you look up to your boyfriend for answers. “grow taller.”
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luveline · 2 days
Note
Hi Jade!!! I love, love, love your writing. I was wondering if you could write something for Tsam Peter x reader where reader has a concussion and Peter is just generally super sweet about taking care of them? I have a concussion right now and I feel like he would be so sweet about it. If not feel free to ignore this, love you!!! <3
i love u!! fem!reader, 1k
You’re shivering again. Peter looks up from his book suspiciously, squinting at the curve of your where you’re laying on his couch. He should let you rest —you’re allowed to sleep with a concussion, despite what some might think— but he doesn’t like the shivering. It’s weird. 
“I'm coming, baby,” he says, standing up from the armchair to situate himself by your hips. 
Peter pulls the blankets more firmly to your chin. “Are you cold, bub?” he asks. It might appear that he’s talking to you while you’re still sleeping, but the smile you give when he talks proves otherwise. 
“No,” you force out in a mumble. 
“Are you sure?” 
It takes you some time to think about it. Your body’s been thrown for a loop since you hurt yourself, but you’re healing nicely, and your mental stamina is yards better than it had been. Peter asked you yesterday if you wanted a kiss and you couldn’t answer him for a full minute, and when you did it was an uncoordinated lift of your chin. You’re still in there, still his girl, just mildly incapacitated for the time being. 
“I might be,” you decide. 
Peter grabs a throw from under the coffee table and shakes it out over your arms and shoulders. “There. Need a drink?” 
“Do you?” you ask. 
“What?” 
“You’re asking me lots of questions,” you say, slowly, quietly, but not without character. “I thought I’d ask one back.” 
“I don’t need anything.” He tilts his head to align your faces, leaning in, not quite close enough to kiss you. 
“You look very serious right now, Spider-Man.” 
He glares for show. “So serious.” 
“Sorry I can’t really make you a drink.” 
Peter wipes the glare. “I’m sorry you got hurt. I don’t care that you can’t be my serf right now. When you’re better I’m gonna work you twice as hard, that’s all.” 
You raise a tired hand to his jaw. You’re extra careful to offset your wonky hand, stroking a clumsy but tender line from his ear to his chin. “Can you help me up?” 
Peter doesn’t question you. You’ve been recovering for a few days (he hasn’t realised before your injury that some people can take months to get better after a head injury, even without blood clots or fractures) and he’s not felt the urge to baby you beyond waiting on your every whim and want. If you’d like to sit up, that’s okay. The only thing he’d insist on is getting enough sleep at night, and thats something you’ll do happily. 
“Can I give you a hug?” he asks, his eyebrows pinching up at their starts. “I hate seeing you shiver, it makes me sad.” 
“Makes you sad?”
He squeezes your elbow where the blankets have fallen down. “Is that surprising?” 
You want to trade jokes with him but you can’t summon a retort, and your smile quickly fades. It can’t be nice, feeling a shade of yourself. Peter’s heart aches for you twice. 
“C’mere, pretty girl,” he says, slipping his arms under yours, encouraging you to wrap your own behind his head or let them rest behind his shoulders. He loves hugging you like this, almost lifting you, spider strength begging to be used as you sigh and settle into place against him. You feel a little like a shell of yourself, not quite quick with touches, fingertips twitching against his shoulder blade as he nuzzles his face against yours unabashed. “There you are. Where’d you go, huh? I was about to send out the search party.” 
“I’m right here.” 
“Yeah you are. Lucky me, right? Luckiest guy in the world.” 
You sigh happily beside his ear, your face pitching slowly downward until it’s pressing against the curve of his neck, your arms slipping down his front as you run out of energy. He doesn’t mind, bundling you up with no intention of letting you go. 
“How do you feel?” he asks. 
“Still fuzzy, like… it’s like we’re talking to each other through a screen door.” 
“Do you need something? Or want something? I’ll get you anything.” 
“I’m fine.” 
He lets out a sorry sigh. He wishes you’d want something, god knows he’d love to put a smile on your face. If you were feeling better you might ask him to go and get you something for dinner from across the city, or beg him to find you a bunch of flowers (which he’s always willing to buy). But sick, you ask for nothing. You just lay on the couch and wait to get better. Peter doesn’t think it’s super fair. 
“I’m sorry you’re not better yet,” he murmurs, his lips drifting down to your temple, which he kisses weakly, the barest brush of his lips. “Wish I could take it from you.” 
“I’ll be okay soon.” 
“I know you will, but I still wish I could take it. It’s shitty.” 
You think about this for a while. “It’s not shitty,” you work out finally, hand curling against his waist in a tired display of affection. “I have the… best boyfriend ever looking after me.” 
“I’ll be here until you’re better, you know that.” 
“I know.” 
Peter ushers you back and lifts your blankets, slotting himself next to you with a careful arm held behind your back. You show some surprising excitement at the offering of a cuddle and work under his arm, shuffling down the couch to leave you both laying on the same cushion, blankets uneven but warm over your chests. “You should probably go back to sleep,” he says. 
“Nap with me?” you ask, endearingly hopeful. 
He turns his face, intending on drawing lines into your cheek with the tip of his nose until you either fall asleep or can’t take it anymore. “Sure, baby. I bet you’re exhausted, huh? Let’s sleep.” 
He falls asleep before you, breathing snores into your cheek. You have enough wits about you to laugh, and then you fall asleep, too. 
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l0caltiredgirl · 11 months
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me @ y/n when they do something i’d never do:
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like babe this isn’t us ?? get it together
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withahappyrefrain · 9 months
Note
I’m just *know* peter is the kind of guy to pound into you before giving you the softest most gentle kiss
He absolutely is! 18+! We have some size kink because I'm a basic bitch.
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"Peter." Your voice was barely above a whisper, strained and desperate. Hands clutched his dark locks, tangling yourself further with him.
"I'm right here ladybug," His words did little to soothe the throbbing ache between your legs. You needed him, all of him.
"Please." You try to cant your hips upwards, in a pathetic attempt to get more of him. And he knew exactly what you were trying to do, able to hold your hips down to the mattress.
"Just gotta ease in ya, 'kay?" A whine escaped your lips upon feeling his cock sink further into you. It felt so good and yet still not enough.
Peter pressed a kiss to your collarbone, "I know, doing so good for me. Taking me so well."
He was always gentle when it had been awhile since you two were intimate. Insisted on easing into you, getting you reacquainted with the sheer size of him.
Whines became all out groans as he bottomed out. Back arching in pleasure, you threw your head back as you reveled in the fullness you now felt.
"Feel so fucking good bug," Peter groans into your skin, feeling practically drunk off your scent.
"I-Peter-fuck." Your head is too busy spinning from how divine it feels when his cock brushes against that one spot.
Peter can't help but let out a chuckle, the corners of his eyes slightly creasing, "Already bug? I just started."
"Oh fuck off," the last word goes from intelligible to babble due to Peter finally increasing the pace of his thrusts.
All you could do was cling onto him as your body was submerged in total pleasure. It felt amazing to be full of him once more, to be consumed by only him. The scent of cinnamon was filling your nostrils, your fingers could feel every scar and mark on his body.
He pushed himself off of you, ignoring your whines as he sat up.
"Peter-"
"Just trust me bug."
That wasn't hard. You trusted him with your whole heart, with every fiber of your being.
His large calloused hands wrapped themselves around each of your ankles, bringing your legs up to his shoulders.
"Pete-oh!"
The new angle allowed him to thrust even deeper. Your fingers quickly found the bedsheets, grasping the fabric as your body was entirely at his mercy.
"You're s'pretty like this bug. All spread out just for me."
Heat flooded your body from his words. You could feel his honeyed eyes on you, taking in the way your breasts bounced with every thrust.
"Fuck, l-ladybug," Peter's voice faltered as your tight walls clenched his cock.
"P-Peter," you could barely get out his name. All you could focus on was how his cock perfectly found the spot that was making you start to see stars. You were on your way, given the way your thighs began to shake, the way the coil in your stomach was whining up.
"Whatcha need bug? C'mon, use your words, you can do it."
You whined, a hand trailing past your breasts to where your body and Peter's connected.
He moved your hand away from your body, replacing it with his own. Fingers far thicker than your own, calloused from years of hard work, found your clit, rubbing tight circles on the sensitive bundle.
"That's what ya needed, huh? Your poor little clit, I'm sorry bug."
"Th-thank you- fuck!" The last word was screamed, your release hitting you like a freight train. Peter didn't relinquish his intense thrusting, continuing with his ministrations to help you ride out your high.
It felt like you were falling, white hot pleasure coursing through your body. Your eyes fluttered closed, seeing stars as you rode out the wave.
Peter watched you carefully, looking out for any signs of you coming down from your high. Once the loud moans had turned into whimpers, he gently placed your legs down, bending down so his chest hovered over yours.
"Bug?" You felt his thumb stroking your cheek. Upon opening your eyes, you found Peter, his face inches away from yours.
"There she is, my ladybug," He said gently before pressing a kiss to your forehead, "C'mere."
His arms wrapped themselves around your waist, helping you sit up as he pulled you into his lap.
"You okay?" He asked. You nodded, still trying to catch your breath.
"Good." His fingers hooked themselves under your chin, allowing him to tilt your head up.
His lips met yours, gently pressing against yours. His kisses were warm and comforting, always making you feel safe and loved. This particular one was soft, a stark contrast from moments ago.
"You did such a good job ladybug," His lips moved from yours to your cheek, peppering your skin, "You wanna keep going or do you want to take a break?"
"Can we take a break? I want you to come but I need time-"
"We have all the time in the world bug."
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parkerpeter24 · 10 months
Note
HIII i am begging can you write a Peter Parker x reader one shot where peter and reader are married and have a toddler and maybe the avengers team find out PLISSSS ANS TYYYY 🫶🫶🫶
baby 🥺
pairing ➳ peter parker x reader
requests are open (but i barely write stuff)
masterlist
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“what is he doing on the ceiling?!” kate yelled as soon as you entered the lobby, searching for your little toddler ben. you rubbed your eyes as you approached a very baffled kate, “your child is on the ceiling! how are you so calm?!”
“it’s 7 in the morning.” you winced as you looked at ben, him giving you an excited look and extended his arm towards you, making you do the same, “come on, benny, come to mama.”
and he did so as, un-sticking himself from the wall as he perfectly landed in your arms.
your two year old was way better at this than peter when he had started out as spider-man. his hand kept getting stuck to different places and after a bunch of ripped t-shirts and a couple of haircuts, you bought him rubber gloves. however, that didn’t work either.
as your little boy nestled against your chest, you looked over to kate who still had surprise written all over her face, “he’s spider-man’s child.” you explained simply.
“but- what if he fell down?”
“oh, he wouldn’t. he’s way too smart for that, aren’t you, benny?” you booped his nose and he gave you a grin.
“yes, mommy.”
you and peter had kept your relationship secret for a couple of years, at least from peter’s superhero gang. so it didn’t come off as a surprise when the avengers found out that you two had a one year old. they were very disappointed in you two for not telling this big a thing but the second they saw ben’s cute little face and his smile, you were forgiven and everyone was happy.
when you agreed to move into the avenger’s tower, tony was more than excited. he added a bunch of toys to the huge playroom that was originally built for morgan.
you were surprised to see that thor was the most attached to your baby. he spent time with him and thursdays were reserved to thor and ben taking a tour of the city. you trusted thor, however you had only allowed this after ben turned two, which was only a few weeks ago.
whenever natasha was around, she would tell ben all kinds of stories about how she kicked bad people’s butts so that little kids could sleep peacefully at night and ben would adore those “tales” even though they were real.
“next time you find him on a ceiling, just show him a cookie, he’ll come right down.” you told kate as you patted ben’s back, gently lulling him back to sleep.
“if you say so.” kate replied, chuckling as she watched you for a minute, “you should get some more sleep too, you look tired.”
“he refused to sleep last night because tony let him have extra ice-cream.” you rolled your eyes.
you noticed ben had fallen asleep, already drooling over the material of your t-shirt as you carried him back to his crib, placing him securely under his blanket before you made your way to your own bed. your husband, peter was still fast asleep. you laid down on the bed, peter already pulling you closer as if it was a reflex. you felt his arm relax against you, his head resting close to your shoulder and soon you felt the soft caress of sleep take over.
the bedside clock showed 10:34 as time when your eyes opened again. the room was empty, peter and ben both gone. you quickly freshened up before making your way out of the room and into the main gathering area once again.
only this time you were greeted with everyone sitting around and laughing as steve held his shield on his lap with ben sitting on top of it.
“hey, babe.” peter was the first one they greeted you as he placed a kiss on your cheek and dragged you in the middle of whatever was happening.
“uh, what’s happening?” you asked, looking around.
“your child is stuck to cap’s shield.” tony said, an almost proud smile spread over his face to which steve gave him a glare.
“guess who inspired it.” natasha rolled her eyes at her two friends, however a small smile remained on her face at the little banter going on.
just then kate ran into the room, holding a cookie in her hand as she handed it to steve, “got it!”
“come on, kid.” steve said, waving around the cookie in the air in front of him. ben’s eyes lit up and steve smiled, “it’s yours if you leave the shield.”
however, cap’s efforts failed as ben reached out one hand to grab the sweet but didn’t move a bit to release his shield.
“i bribed him good.” tony shrugged as he sipped on his black coffee.
you watched the whole scene unfold, amused to say the least. you noticed peter snickering as he stood beside you. you smacked his chest lightly, “you think this is funny? go get your child.”
“and forget the spider-bike mr stark promised me? never.”
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flightlessangelwings · 2 months
Text
While we’re on the subject on inclusivity:
Inclusivity in your mood boards is just as important as inclusivity in the fic itself. Please try to include poc and curvy images in your mood boards as well! Please!
Your moodboard is the introduction to your story and sets the mood and the vibe. When you only have skinny white girls in your moodboards, you’re communicating a message that’s all who you thought of while writing and that’s the only type who is attractive and desirable to the characters. Poc deserve to feel seen too and feel like they were thought of while writing. Especially so when you’re writing for characters of color!
You don’t even have to use *only* poc or curvy pictures for your mood boards. Including different skin tones to show that you made the effort is much appreciated. You could also use shadow images or fully blacked out silhouettes to hide the skin tone altogether. There are plenty of resources and images out there that you should be able to find more than just skinny white girls. I know is it takes a little extra digging but it’s very much worth it to show inclusivity!
I know Pinterest is the bane of image finding, but it can be a good resource to find poc images. Just search (whatever aesthetic you’re looking for) + dark skin or person of color or something similar and you’ll find plenty of images. And the more you save the more images will show up in your feed. I constantly collect images to have references later when I need them.
Unsplash is another good resource to find poc models and images. And there’s also models of color pages right here on tumblr! There are resources out there it just takes a little effort to find the right images!
And as an ending note: using only skinny white girls in your mood board and then putting a disclaimer like “images do not represent reader they’re just fitting the aesthetic” isn’t the work around you think it is. I understand it’s not done in purpose and you most likely don’t realize it, but saying that says poc don’t fit your aesthetic and it’s still alienating and hurtful. Just something to keep in mind.
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bruisedboys · 1 year
Note
peter parker who always lets you hang off his arm. you’re always holding it to your chest when walking or just standing. letting him do the guiding because you just want to stick to his side. you wrap both your arms around his and just fiddle with his fingers and maybe tug on them when you need his attention. you rest your chin on his shoulder when he’s stopped to talk to someone or when you’ve both sat down. you just have to be near him tbh <3333 and he doesn’t care one bit, he actually hates it when you’re not as close.
aerial why would you do this to me!!! I want to be his clingy gf so bad. also this is really short sorry </3
Peter sometimes finds it hard to breathe when you cling to him like this. You’re so close and your warmth is seeping into him and your perfume smells like honey and flowers and hell, he’s so in love with you he could die.
One of your hands is slotted in his, your fingers having searched for his and found them the moment you’d stepped outside. Your other hand is curled around his elbow, clutching his arm to your chest. Peter thinks it’s cute, how close you want to be to him. How you don’t seem to want to let him go.
“Y/N, honey,” he says with a poorly contained grin. “You okay?”
You look up at him, pretty as ever. Peter’s chest burns at the sight of you.
“Fine,” you say, and you look it. Your smile is bruising.
The breeze has blown a strand of hair across your face. Peter lifts his free arm and pushes the stray lock behind your ear, his hand lingering on your jaw.
“Did you decide what you feel like eating?” He asks slowly. It’s hard to get the words out when his fondness and adoration for you is making his chest tight.
You don’t notice, and besides, you look like you’re feeling an equal amount of fondness for him. “I was thinking Thai,” you say thoughtfully. “But only if you want that too?”
Peter grins. He doesn’t care what he eats, as long as it’s with you. He presses his thumb to the corner of your mouth, then leans down to press a chaste kiss to your wind-bitten lips. “Thai it is.”
Peter and you walk the short distance to the Thai restaurant. You cling to Peter the entire way. He can’t stop smiling. He wants you this close forever, even if it means you’re so close he has to be extra careful not to step on your feet.
The Thai place is busy tonight. Neither of you mind. You stand in line, so close your shoes press up against each other. You fiddle with Peter’s fingers, trace the lines on his palm, the veins on the inside of his wrist. Peter is putty in your hands. His chest feels like it’s on fire, worse when you press into his side and let your head fall against his shoulder, your weight familiar and soft and warm all at once.
By the time the food comes out, hot and fresh and smelling delicious, Peter’s chest is already so full with fondness for you he’s not sure he can fit anything else in there. He tries his best.
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