drunk on you || p.p
summary: peter parker is drunk, the bottle in his hand trying its best to make him forget all about you while you were out on a date… with someone that wasn’t him. peter didn’t want to think about you, and yet he ends up dialing your number. he can’t get you out of his head (or his heart)
word count: 1.7k
warnings: mentions of drinking, suggestive, fluff, swearing. [gif link]
“You’re here!” Peter beamed when your gaze met his across the frat house. “Hey, y/n,” he called out, waving his hand to catch your attention. He leaned back against the kitchen counter, beckoning you over with the beer bottle that he held loosely in between his fingers, his cheeks flushed and gaze hazy, “over here!”
Clutching your phone to your chest, you surged through the crowd, making your way over to him. “You came,” he breathed out in awe, a drunken smile on his face as he stumbled and you caught him by his arm to stable him, “I didn’t think you’d show up.”
“Peter,” you said with a head shake, taking the beer bottle from him, “you called me at three in the morning--drunk.” You sighed, pulling him in as you heaved a sigh of relief, “I was worried about you.”
His breath hitched when you pulled him into your chest, your warm fingertips caressing the back of his neck, his curls tickling your skin. He blushed, tucking his face in the crook of your neck, “I’m sorry,” he whispered, nuzzling your collarbone as you giggled, “I didn’t want to worry you.”
“Its okay, Petey,” you cooed. Petey, god, for a second he forgot how to breathe. your voice was sweet, words pouring in his ear like honey. He almost whimpered when your nails scratched his neck lightly and his gaze flickered to the beer bottle in your hand.
He inhaled sharply as the night came back to him in flashes and he remembered why he stumbled into the frat party with Harry, the guy in his chemistry class that dragged him here, was nowhere to be seen. Peter was here because he wanted to forget.
He wanted to forget you.
“How was your date?” He asked, trying to be as casual as possible but the bitterness seeped into his words.
“Um...” you hesitated as your face fell.
He picked up his head from your shoulder to meet your tired eyes, his heart breaking at the sight of your exhausted features - guilt weighing down on his heart.
You were here at three in the morning to pick him up after he called you--drunk. You were here, you left everything to be here to take care of him. You probably left him--your date alone in your bed to come look after Peter because you cared about him.
You’ve always been so sweet to him. He had known you for years--since freshmen year of college when he moved in with you. You were his roommate but eventually he fell hopelessly in love with you when you flirted with him for twenty seconds.
To you, Peter was a friend--a best friend that you’d come to adore. You were an angel, you stayed up with him to help him study for exams, you made him coffee when he pulled all nighters alone. You took care of him when he got hurt on patrols, you were there for him no matter what.
You did all of it because he was your best friend. maybe, he would always be your best friend but that didn’t matter. what mattered was you were here and not with your stupid date--you were here with him.
“Eh” you laughed nervously, “the date was--” he waved his hand dismissively, reaching for the beer bottle to drop the conversation all together but you stepped back, your gaze narrowing at him, “no, peter.”
“C'mon, y/n--” he whined as he reached for it again but you set it down on the kitchen counter and reached forward to take his hands in yours.
“No more drinking,“ you said, holding his hands down as he pouted, “no--you’re done for the night, alright?” Your arm circled around his waist to support him, “let me take you home.”
He reluctantly slipped out of your hold as he swallowed thickly, “w-what about your date?”
“Peter,” you clicked your tongue as you held him close, “he went home--it’s three in the morning.”
He blinked at you, “he’s not at our place? But I thought…”
“Why would he be at our place at this hour?” Your brows furrowed, “it was shit, pete. the date sucked--he sucked. I left half-way through it. He would not stop talking about his stupid ex and her purple bangs…”
Peter felt relief wash over him at the same time a wave of guilt crashed over him for being happy for your ruined date. “ah, that sucks,” he chuckled to himself, “and here i was thinking you ditched sex to take care of your drunk friend.”
You pinched his side as you led him out of the frat house, “you jerk,” you laughed when he squealed, rubbing his side. "I’d ditch literally everything to come make sure you’re alright. You’re more important to me.”
Heat rushed to his cheeks and he gulped, the liquor in his veins taking control of him, “i’m important to you?” He whispered and you nodded with a puff of laughter and he paused at the entrance. “Y/n,” he breathed out and you turned to look at him as the chill of the night kissed his cheek, “would you…um, nevermind it’s stupid.”
“What?” you asked, taking his hand in yours encouragingly as concerned reached your eyes, “what is it?”
“Nothing…” he shrugged, “its stupid…I’m not like the guys you go for.” His voice waiverd and you raised your eyebrows at him as his throat closed up.
“I’m not tall,” he sniffled, “you like tall guys, like, crazy tall. you - you like,” he reached up to wipe his wet eyes with the sleeve of his coat. “I can’t even raise my voice at you, but MJ said you like guys who are mean - personally, i think that’s pretty fucked up but I’m still not what you would want.”
You held up your hands as a smile broke out on your lips, “hey--”
“You’re so…so beautiful,” his breath hitched as he grabbed your hand, holding but in between his as he looked up.
“You say your hair looks like a rat’s nest in the morning but I-I love it. I love your rat’s nest and your fuzzy socks. You sing to yourself sometime, you know that? It’s crazy, you don’t even notice when you do that but i love that too.”
“Y/n,“ he inhaled sharply, blinking at you as he tilted his head to the side, “I-I love you, like... a lot. I came here because I wanted to forget about you but i couldn’t because I…I love you so much.”
“Peter…” you stepped in, slipping your hand out of his hold to reach up for his rosy cheek, your thumb caressing the apple of his cheeks as you leaned your forehead against his, “why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t want to ruin our friendship,” he said sincerely, looking down at his feet, “you mean so much to me - I can’t lose you over my stupid feelings.”
You tipped his chin up to meet his eyes, “you are not gonna lose me,” you smiled at him as you leaned in. “I promise.” You whispered against his lips and he froze, his heart racing in his chest as your lips hovered over his. you nudged his nose with yours, “I love you.”
He sucked in a breath, his eyes growing wide, “you - ” he squeaked before clearing his throat, “you do?”
“Yeah,” you nodded, grinning at him, your eyes crinkling, “i love you - I’ve loved you for so long, pete - ”
“Why?” he asked, backing up against the wooden door of the frat house as the thoughts in his head grew louder than the music blasting inside. “why would you love me? I am nothing like the guys you have dated--”
“--the guys i dated are all jerks,” you let out an exasperated sigh, holding his face in your hands, “but you - you are the most beautiful person I’ve ever met. you are kind, you are generous and you care. you have so much love in your heart, peter.”
He blushed, looking away from you as he smiled at you shyly, “I’m a nerd.”
“A hot nerd,” you said, turning his face to make him look at you. “You are so fucking smart, pete - I love when you are talking about quantum physics or your nano tech suit - most of the shit goes over my head but I love it when you talk science to me, it turns me on a bit actually.”
He chuckled, shaking his head and you giggled as warmth tickled your cheeks, “it does! You’re so smart, pete. It’s not a bad thing, you are a genius. You work with tony stark for fuck’s sake, you are - ”
You leaned closer as your voice dropped to a whisper, “you are spider-man. god, peter. you are so much more than what I deserve…those jerks I’ve dated are nothing compared to you. You are a lovely person and I love you.”
He smiled at you, warmth blooming in his heart, spreading under his skin like wildfire as you wound your arms around his neck, pulling him into you. “I love you,” he whispered as you pulled away.
He brushed your hair aside as he held your face and his eyes dropped to your lips, “can…can i kiss you?”
“Yeah no,” you pulled away from him as you broke into a fit of giggles, “sorry, darling, you’re drunk--” You held up your hand, “I can’t kiss you. I’m not sure if you’re going to remember this in the morning. We can do that…later when you’re not tripping over your own feet.”
“Trust me, i’d remember if you kissed me right now,” he breathed out, “you’re unforgettable, sweetheart.”
You beamed at his sweet pet name for you, “I can’t kiss you on the lips…” you trailed off, leaning in to press a chaste kiss on his cheek, “will this do for now?”
He smiled at you dopily as he hummed, “you are my dream girl.”
You chuckled, “okay, pete, we’ll talk about us in the morning,” you kissed his forehead as your fingers curled around his wrist, “let’s get you home.”
hope you liked it !! reblogs and feedback are appreciated! masterlist + taglist is in my bio!
permanent taglist: @peterficrecs @runawaywithmyghost @holland-styles @mymarvelmasterlistblog @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @peter-parkers-gf @lilmschild @kayasholland @prettyboykaspbrak @lowkey-holland @haroldpotterson @usergarfields @aqtkookie @ginasellsbooks @haileygarciasunshine @aayaissaa @also-fangirlinsweden @decafcoffew @perfect-peter @prettysbliss @astrobub @alltoogay @prancerrparkerr @tanakaslastbraincell @xoxabs88xox @levylovegood @inas-thing @peterparkoure @crybabyddl @parkeromanoff @jenoslov @imobsessedzs @black-rose-29 @yeetzel @kassey @ericareyesmylove @avengers-hamiltrash @queen-of-no1 @helpimhavingacry-sis
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It's mansplain, manipulate Monday, and I think this deserves a prequel to how he got her manager's number and how they started dating because just from their chemistry, you can tell she played hard to get.
But this is only if you want to, please don't feel pressured. Your writing is incredible and you are extremely talented.
Hell yeah I want to make a backstory for a smutty drabble. 16+! Mob!Peter and very suggestive.
You Ain't Nothing (but a dog)
Summary: You never meant to get into modeling. You also never meant to get tangled up with Peter Parker. But sometimes life has a funny way of working out.
You never meant to get into modeling. It wasn't something you dreamed about doing. For starters, you were no Cindy Crawford.
But you were a poor college student who needed money. Joining your friend for a shoot that would cover half of your monthly rent sounded much better than waiting tables.
Apparently the 'in look' had changed. Cindy's face was out, your's was in. So you continued it because being able to pay off your student debt was a pretty sweet deal.
When it became a full time job, you're not quite sure. It was definitely after graduation and you were still unsure if you wanted to get your master's. So you figured, why not model for a few years and save up?
You didn't mind it. You had made some friends along the way, found a decent company to manage you. You were even able to go from magazine photoshoots to billboards.
Never in a million years did you expect that a billboard would be why you crossed paths with Peter Parker.
Much less be how he became your husband.
"Miles, make 'em hold still, will ya?" Peter never understood why they always tried to squirm away.
They should have paid on time if they wanted to avoid this.
Finally satisfied with his punches, he removed the now bloodied brass knuckle from his hand. He noticed some blood had gotten on the sleeve of his shirt.
That would need to be dry cleaned.
"You have until Friday to pay up. Then I won't be as nice." He motioned for Miles to follow him out of the building.
"That was you being nice?" His protege asked.
Peter chuckled, "I let the bastard live, didn't I?"
"I'll bring the car around," Miles knew better than to question Peter's methods.
Peter rolled up the sleeves of his shirt as he waited, thinking of who else he needed to pay a 'visit' today.
He didn't know why he decided to look around the parking lot, but he's thankful he did.
Because there you were.
Or well, a picture of you.
You were stunning. From your bright eyes to the slope of your nose to the curve of your smile.
Fuck, he had to see you in person.
Luckily he had connections.
"Where to next boss?" Miles asked as Peter got in the car.
"I need you to help me with some research."
You were a pretty private person. The only public social media you had was filled with pictures of sights and food and occasionally animals. Not of your face.
That was smart. You kept a low profile. Peter liked that.
Though, it was frustrating he couldn't see more pictures of you.
Luckily for Peter, your coworkers weren't as private.
"This Watson girl definitely models with her," Miles pulled up a picture showing a redhead with other girls leaning in, posing with smiles and peace signs. Peter immediately spotted you in the photo.
Fuck, you were stunning with no makeup and minimal effort. A true beauty.
Peter stared at the various photos you were tagged in before clearing his throat, "So these are great. But I'm trying to see her in person."
"So I can tell you what we're not going to do, which is slide into her DM's. I know you don't know what that means, but trust me, it is not the vibe we're going for," Miles explained, "But I do believe I've found her manager."
"And you're certain this is her manager because....."
"Her, the Watson, and Brandt girl all follow each other. They also all follow this guy, Mark, who literally says in their profile they manage for a modeling company. And when I pulled up her Venmo, Watson Venmoed her and Brandt for 'Mark's bday gift'."
"This is why I keep you around," Peter grinned, "You got his number?"
Miles pulled out a sticky note that had a ten number digit written, "So you just gonna call the dude and say you want to go out on a date with one of his clients?"
Peter scoffed, "Please. May raised me better than that. Tell Felicia I need her to pick up and deliver a few gifts."
"Tell me again how this isn't the same thing as escorting? Because it sounds like escorting."
Your manager, Mark, sighed, "He just wants to get to know you and discuss a potential business deal over dinner."
You motioned to the huge vase of flowers that were delivered to you this afternoon, "Business deal?"
"People get flowers all the time."
You picked up the red Cartier box, opening it to reveal a diamond bracelet that you're pretty certain cost more than your college tuition.
"Business deal, huh?" You repeated.
"If you don't want it, I'll take it," your friend and coworker Gina said without looking up from the magazine she was reading.
Who the hell even was this guy? Peter Parker? What kind of name was that?
You weren't stupid. You knew damn well what a business deal over dinner entailed.
He was hoping to get into your pants by the end of the night.
"Look, you're going to a public place, Bella's, and-"
"He's taking you to Bella's? Don't you need to make reservations three months in advance?" Gina interrupted.
"You just need to have dinner with him. That's all."
"You told him I would go?!"
"I told the woman who works for him and dropped off these gifts," Mark paused, "Because she was very scary and intimidating, I did not want to upset her."
"See Y/N? He employs women, he can't be all that bad," Gina commented.
You were all for intimidating women. Just not when it landed you an unwanted date.
Which is how you found yourself outside of the city's most exclusive and expensive restaurants, about to embark on the weirdest blind date.
The date wasn't supposed to start until seven, but you arrived forty minutes early. You had to be first, you couldn't give this Peter Parker any advantage.
So when the hostess said she could bring you to "Mr. Parker's exclusive room", you just shook your head.
"Just tell him I'm at the bar."
The hostess' eyes widened, "Uh, Mr. Parker instructed us to walk you to his section when you arrived."
Instructed was a nice way of saying ordered. So the guy also loved telling people what to do. Great.
"Funny, because he never asked me if I was fine with that. If he did, he would have learned I don't go into private rooms with men I don't know," you pointed to the bar, "Again, I'll be over there."
The hostess was saying something, but you didn't care to listen.
The date hadn't even started yet and Mr. Parker could already go suck a fuck.
"It's the first date. Make sure you give her the chance to talk, okay?"
Peter furrowed his brow, "Why the fuck wouldn't I let her talk on the first date?"
"Some men love talking about themselves more than getting to know the other person," Felicia commented from the back of the car.
"Whenever you're not sure what to say, just ask her a question! Like what made you get into modeling?" Miles suggested.
"I already know how she got into modeling!"
"That is not public knowledge."
Felicia leaned forward, "you let her know you stalked her after she agrees to be your girlfriend. Your chances of her finding it cute are higher. Until then, play dumb."
Peter Parker was stressed. Which was weird because he never got stressed.
He had killed people before with his bare hands. Why was he now stressed about a date.
As if Miles could sense it, he began, "It's the first date. If you're nervous-"
"I am not nervous!" Peter said sharply, looking into the mirror to check his hair for the sixth time.
Miles fought the urge to roll his eyes, "Fine. It's the first date, it's okay if it's a little awkward. Just be yourself!"
"Minus the violent, illegal, organized crime boss part," Felicia commented, "You should probably save that for maybe the third date."
"You should also probably get out of the car and go into the restaurant," Miles paused, "Considering your date starts in ten minutes."
"I know when my date starts!" Peter hissed before looking out the window, "Did you see her walk in?"
"For the sixth time, no." Felicia commented, rolling her eyes.
"Would arriving ten minutes early make me look too eager?" Peter asked his right hand man and woman, who were fighting the urge to smack their boss upside the head.
"She's a potential love interest, not a potential enemy, Peter."
"True," He gripped the door handle, as if he was about to actually get out.
He turned to them, "It's just I had this idea that I walk into the room and she's sitting down at the table, y'know? And then I say-"
"Peter get the fuck out of the car," Felicia ordered, not even looking up from her nails that she was inspecting.
You sipped on your Old Fashion, your eyes darting to the front entrance.
This date was supposed to start in five minutes and Mr. Parker was nowhere to be seen.
Maybe whatever deity you prayed to, took mercy on you. Maybe he wouldn't show up.
Wouldn't that be something? Then you could focus on the absolute Adonis who just walked into the restaurant.
Adonis incarnated's brown eyes found yours. You sipped your cocktail, not breaking eye contact.
"Mr. Parker!" The man turned his head to face the hostess.
God. Damn. It.
You took a much bigger sip of your drink, the bourbon burning your throat.
Okay, he was attractive. Stupidly attractive.
You could admit that.
But he was still the guy who didn't even call you to ask you out. He called your manager. And he sent gifts and had his own private room in a restaurant and staff taking his jacket, all for showing off. All to impress you.
All to wield power over you.
You weren't going to allow that.
Which is why you couldn't help but smirk when you heard him ask the hostess "Why the hell is she sitting at the bar?"
You could hear the hostess try to explain what had happened as best as she could without saying you were being a stubborn bitch.
"Whatever, I'll get her myself," You heard him tell her.
This should be fun.
You turned your attention back to the bar, your eyes focused on one of the many expensive bottles of alcohol that were adorning the glass shelves.
The sound of footsteps quickly approached you. You continued drinking your cocktail, staring straight ahead. He was the one who set up the day, he could be the one who said hello first.
"Uh....hi." You turned your head, expecting to see arms crossed and a scowl across his face.
He was looking at the ground. Was his face red?
"Our room is ready."
"Nice to meet you too," You took another sip before turning to him, "My name is Y/N and I don't go into private rooms with men I don't know."
"Oh." He looked around, looking everywhere but you. Did he not do eye contact?
"Had you actually spoken to me beforehand, you would have learned that." You crossed your arms.
He finally looked at you. His brown eyes widened and his lips parted slightly. It was....different. It wasn't the lewd stare you were used to receiving.
He looked....nervous? No, that couldn't be it. No guy would track you down and take you out on a date if they didn't have an overblown ego.
"I uh....I can get us another table," He mumbled. He turned around, ready to walk back to the hostess' table. You could see his hands balling up into fists as he turned back around.
You stared out the window to admire the skyline of the city.
It was an amazing view. It reminded you of how the city was still beautiful, despite of the not so pretty parts.
"It's beautiful, right?"
Fuck you almost forgot you were on a date with him.
You turned to face him again, the candlelight casting a glow over his stupidly handsome face.
"Yeah, it's a really nice view," You admitted before taking another sip of your wine that cost more than what you make in a week.
"It's gorgeous, though not as-"
"Gorgeous as me?" You finished.
It wasn't the first time you had finished a pickup line of his that night. The guy really had no originality. His lack of response confirmed it.
You stared straight at him now, waiting for him to start his next cheesy pickup line.
And your stare burned through him. The man could barely look you in the eye. He was shifting in his seat, visibly uncomfortable.
It was strange.
His honeyed eyes fell upon your bare wrists, his brow furrowed in confusion.
"You're not wearing the bracelet," He said. Well, more like mumbled.
"Nope," you shrugged. This was it.
Because you read the note that was written in that box. The note whose handwriting was way too nice to actually be his. The note that went on about how even though the bracelet didn't shine as bright as your eyes, he looked forward to seeing it on you.
He would snap. Finally realize you were only a pretty face and call the date off.
"Did you....not like it?" With those big brown eyes, Peter Parker resembled moreso a puppy that just got it's favorite toy taken away than a pissed off man.
"I'm just not much of a jewelry wearer," You explained, your tone much softer than you desired.
He nodded his head.
You shrugged, "Would have known that if-"
"I spoke to you beforehand?" You weren't surprised that he finished your sentence. You were more surprised at the sliver of a smile that was creeping onto his face while he said it.
You nodded your head, "Seems to be the theme of the night."
He was trying. Which was the most baffling part. Normally when guys take you out for dinner, they're not nervous. Or at least don't show it.
But he was obviously nervous and it was borderline endearing. Which was the problem. You weren't supposed to be enjoying any part of the guy.
You looked out to admire the view again. You feared if you didn't, your eyes would wander to his hands again.
"Excuse me, can I borrow that? And that?" You turned to see Peter talking to a waiter, pointing to their notepad and pen.
Without any questions, the waiter gave their materials to him. He turned to a blank page.
"So no private rooms or jewelry," He said out loud as he wrote it down. He looked over to your plate, "and no to Italian food, given you've only eaten half of the best ravioli in the city."
"Wh-what are you doing?" He could not be doing what it looked like he was doing.
"Keeping track of what you like and don't like," Peter said, like it was obvious, "So what type of food do you like?"
"Uh...Thai. And you're doing this why?" This date was not going on how you expected and you were still unsure whether that was a good thing or a bad thing.
He looked up at you, a small, sheepish smile on his face. Fuck, his eyes were beautiful. Beautiful and soft.
"As you can probably tell, I haven't been on a date in years. I think it's also safe to say I didn't exactly put my best foot forward. So I want to blow you away on our second date by actually doing stuff you enjoy," He explained.
Bold of you to assume there will be a second date, is what you wanted to say. But your mouth couldn't form those exact words.
"This is your first date in years?" Was what came out instead. You were surprised. The guy was incredibly attractive, and clearly had money and power from whatever job he did for a living.
He nodded his head and oh, he was definitely blushing and it was cute.
"I thought it was obvious when I forgot to introduce myself," He mumbled. You leaned forward to get a closer look at his handwriting on the notepad.
The handwriting matched the note.
Peter Parker handwrote that note himself.
"You okay?" It took you a moment to realize he was staring right at you. You never had been into brown eyes, but his were so big and looked like browned honey and reminded you of Bambi and-
Fuck you were screwed.
"Yeah! I just..." You bit your bottom lip, "Why don't we get out of here? It's kinda stuffy if I'm being honest."
"Doesn't like stuffy restaurants," He wrote down. His eyes widened, your words finally hitting Peter, "Oh. Uh yes, absolutely. Where to?"
"Not your bedroom. Or mine," You said quickly. There was no way you were letting him in that easy, "Why don't I just drive us around the city?"
"You drove here?"
You grinned, "No, but I know you did."
He cocked his head in confusion, though the corners of his mouth had turned upwards, "and what makes you think I'll let you drive my car, angel?"
"You want that second date or not?"
He chuckled and you could tell he was debating it.
"Fine, but only if our second date can be this Friday," He countered.
You smirked, "Eager, are we?"
Now it was his turn to smirk, "Thought I made that obvious too."
You could have turned him down. You could have said no.
But where was the fun in that?
Besides, he was letting you drive his very expensive car. And as you would soon learn, Peter was very much worth keeping around.
mob boss au with peter parker where he's in an arranged marriage with his wife!reader who despises him but he tries to change that (can be dark, smutty, maybe both? Or fluffy)
come join my au celebration! send me any au you can think of :)
"You don't strike me as the movie-watching type." You drawled, glaring at Peter who had a dvd case in his hands, "More like the murder type."
"I'm not a bit movie-watcher," He admitted, pointedly avoiding your second sentence, "But apparently you are."
"Why do you say that?" You raised an eyebrow, shrinking back into the cushion of your couch, "It's not like you've gotten to know me at all."
"Because you won't let me," Peter grumbled under his breath, "Listen, I heard from your dad that this is your favorite movie. And I want you to not despise me. So we're watching it."
He popped the dvd into the player, shutting it and sitting down with a huff. Part of you wanted to leave, to get up and shut yourself away in your room like you'd been doing for the past two weeks, but Peter's adamancy stopped you.
He was trying. You hated to admit that it was working, but you hadn't seen the movie in months. What sounded fantastic now was a rewatch, even if your husband would be sitting beside you.
"Fine," You mumbled, "But I won't be happy about it."
💌 write love letters — TASM!Peter writing a love confession letter to Gwen’s sister who is also is best friend (if you could also add the dialogue, “I feel like the stars made me specifically for you)
💌 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 — 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐦!𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫.
—pairings: andrew!peter parker x reader
—word count: 479
—additional notes: JOIN MY 3K CELEBRATION! i hope you enjoy, love! <33 i really tried to incorporate his dorkiness into him writing.
I never really thought I would sit down and write a letter properly before, I felt I should just come over and tell you face to face, but Gwen assured me this is more romantic and that you enjoy getting letters. So here I am I guess.
You’ve been my best friend for so long now, for years, and I already feel lucky enough to have you as that. I enjoy being around you, there’s no one’s company I enjoy more than yours, even when we have found everything to talk about and we are then faced to sit in silence, there is no other company that would be remotely better.
I can’t even find the words to express how great it is to have you in my life, and through this letter I want you to know how much I appreciate it and hope within the next few lines it won’t be thrown out the window by my idiotic rambles. If in any way you don’t agree with me, you can ignore this letter all you’d like, tell me that it didn’t make it to you, that Gwen took it instead, whatever you can make up.
We can forget I said anything. I’ve tried for many years to keep my feelings hidden because how much it scares me to lose you, but I can’t keep it away from you any longer.
I am very much in love with you. Like, badly. Like, I want to never be away from you, badly.
Every time I’m with you, I feel complete. It makes sense, it feels right, you and me. You make me so happy all the time, and I don’t even know how you do it. You don’t even need to talk; you can just walk in the room and my mood is immediately cured into something ten times better than it was before.
You mean the world to me. You are my world. I might be crazy, and you can call me as such if I am, but I believe that we belong together. It felt like two pieces of the jigsaw puzzle click together when I fell in love with you. And even now, I feel like the stars made me specifically for you.
Because you are all I think about, you’re all I need to be happy, to be in love.
I’ve always been so in love with you, and I hope you love me back.
I’ll deliver this before I go on patrol tonight and swing by late after to see you. And, hopefully, you’ll open the window to pull me in, and not open it to push me off the fire escape to get away from you. Because that’ll suck and I’ll be expecting to finally kiss you after all these years of waiting for you.
Your forever not-so-secret admirer,
join my 3k celebration!
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I Gave You All (Pt. 1)
Characters: Peter Parker x You
Summary: You weren’t supposed to remember him. And you didn’t. For three years. But you always remembered… something. Little things, every now and again. Now, you have a new neighbor, that honestly..? Doesn’t seem all that new to you.
(Post NWH, could technically be read for any Peters if your head-canon is that 2 & 3 were wiped from their universes memory too, but it is being written for adult Tom Holland Peter Parker)
Word Count: 956
Warnings: Like, one cuss word and mentions of alcohol/drunkenness
Author Note: Hi everyone! I’m a long-time reader, but haven’t ever posted my own content. This hasn’t been read by anyone other than myself, so the only editing that’s been done has been by Grammarly. Sorry for any mistakes, and sorry if it’s trash. Just thought it would be fun to give writing another shot after 10 years out of the fandom writing sphere. Hope you enjoy it, understand if you don’t! :) -Meg
You think you met him freshman year. In all honesty, you don’t think the two of you paid much attention to one another. As far as you knew? No one paid much attention to him… He disappeared halfway through the school year.
No, he didn’t.
Yes. He disappeared. You don’t even remember his name. Just… a blur. A dark silhouette in a flurry of otherwise clear memories. Some days, the silhouette became more focused, and along with it came a tightening in your chest. A brick in your stomach, a heat spreading across your cheeks. As soon as it came, it disappeared again. Like him. The nameless, faceless figure in the back of your head that no one else seemed to think ever even existed.
It had been years since you had seen him in freshman biology. You were well out of high school now, living your life as a young adult. You had no reason to even think of him, yet here you were. Alone on your couch, vision swirling, the 24-hour news cycle spinning violently across your television. Spider-Man and Daredevil saved a bus full of middle schoolers on the George Washington Bridge this afternoon, from what you’re hoping isn’t actually an 8-foot-tall lizard.
The brick in your stomach grows as you stare at the rippling image of the masked vigilante. You blame it on the empty bottle of New Amsterdam sitting on the table in front of you, but your mind continues to wander to the student that you remember forgetting. Tonight, he isn’t just a silhouette. You see curly brown hair. This time though, a new image flashes across your eyelids. Chocolate brown eyes, smile lines obvious on an otherwise smooth face. You’ve never remembered that before.
Three knocks. One, two, three, in quick succession.
This breaks you from your reverie. You slowly stand, making sure your drunken state won’t be too obvious to whoever decided to knock on your door at the ungodly hour of…
You shuffle to the door and struggle with the locks before pulling it open, covertly using it as a crutch to keep yourself upright. You look up at the mystery knocker, and all at once, every ounce of oxygen in your body abandons you. Curly brown hair. Chocolate brown eyes. Smile lines on an otherwise smooth face…. It’s just a coincidence. Right?
“Hey, so sorry to bother you, but I’m moving in next door and managed to-” The stranger stops for only a moment when he lays eyes on you, but recovers quickly. Too quickly for you to notice his own shock.
“-to dump a gallon of water on my kitchen floor before buying a mop… Any chance I could borrow yours?” You stare at the man, who is donned in an oversized “I Survived My Trip to NYC” Tee and sweatpants. You don’t realize that you’re silent for longer than any normal neighbor would be before shaking out of your own state.
“Oh- uh- right. Yeah, ‘fcourse. Come on in…” You step out of his way and immediately turn toward your own kitchen, trying with every ounce of your being to not drunkenly stumble and embarrass yourself in front of your handsome (familiar?) new neighbor.
“I’m Peter, by the way. Peter Parker.” He states as you awkwardly search the crack between your fridge and wall for your mop. Your hand finds the cool metal and pulls it from the abyss, and you glance over your shoulder at him.
“Y/N. Nice to meet you, Peter Parker.” You then bury yourself under the sink, wrestling a bucket and a bottle of cleaner from under the poorly placed pipes.
“So... how’d you manage to dump a gallon of water on your floor?” Your voice is muffled by the cabinetry.
“Oh, you know… Had a bit of an incident with a fallen bar of soap. Classic cartoon slip and fall. Only I was lucky, and was carrying groceries to the fridge when it happened.” Your snort rings out through the small kitchen and you turn bright pink as you stand.
“Sounds like an unfortunate series of events.”
“I prefer to call it a comedy of errors.”
“Is it a comedy, or a tragedy? That is, considering no one else was there to see it.” You give him a small, sly smile as you pass him the mop and bucket. He gives you a cheeky grin in return, and you’re nearly knocked off your feet.
You’ve seen that grin before. More times than you can count. But you don’t know where. Or when. Or why… It seems as though the smile belonged to a lover from a different lifetime. A smile that transcended universes and demons and death, only to find your eyes once more. You feel the color drain from your face, but your brain can’t force your eyes to look away. Peter notices. The grin falters, and so does your absent stare.
“I should, uh… I should get that water taken care of. Make sure it doesn’t cause any damage. I don’t want to lose my deposit on day one.” He gives a weak chuckle, but you can feel how hollow it is. You nod in agreement, and walk him to the front door, growing dizzy from the mere two-minute interaction.
“I’ll get your mop back to you soon.” You nod, absolutely incapable of caring less about a mop.
“No rush. Hope to see you around, Peter Parker.” Your voice is hoarse and more confused than it ever should have been.
“You too, Y/N Y/L/N.” And Peter Parker has disappeared into the next apartment before you can even process that you never told him your last name.
The Shenanigans of the New Avengers: Food Fight
"Yelena why did you wake me up if you aren't going to cook breakfast for us?" Kate whined plopping in the chair at the kitchen table.
Yelena made her way over to fridge to pull out the jug of orange juice, and poured herself a glass. Before going over to join Kate at the kitchen table. "I woke you up to train if you and I are going to be partners. Then you're going to have too step up your game Kate Bishop."
"Hey I held my own against you, those Tracksuits guys, and Wilson Fisk." Kate reminded her offended that the blonde was still underestimating her.
"I held back, the Tracksuit Mafia are low level criminals that any idiot with half of your training could take down, and I'm pretty sure Wilson Fisk was trying not to hurt you." Yelena countered counting down with her fingers.
"Just because I haven't been training my entire life, and just became an Avenger doesn't mean I'm any less skilled. We can go spar right after you cook us some breakfast." Kate proposed hoping Yelena would agree to the last part. Her stomach started growling indicating just how hungry she was.
"Nice try Kate Bishop but no if you want food then cook it yourself. You're more than capable and unlike your apartment. There are plenty of kitchen utensils for you to use."
Kate opened her mouth to argue again, but Yelena held a finger up to her mouth shushing the archer. At the sound of two more voices chattering and laughing. The voices were familiar and both were approaching the kitchen.
"I got a better idea why don't we get the newbies to do it" Yelena said with a grin.
Kate frowned "how are we going to do that?"
"Easy we'll trick them by saying it's initiation or something."
"Yel for one that's wrong and they might not fall for it, and for two wouldn't that mean we should be cooking for them. Both of them joined the Avengers long before we came along."
"Oh come on it's just a little fun and it doesn't matter both of us are older than them. We can use that against them plus I'm pretty sure both of them fear me. This can work as long as you play along."
Kate opened her mouth to argue against the plan, but closed it when Yelena snapped at her. "Do you want breakfast or not?"
"Fine but we're only doing it this one time" Kate warned her. Not wanting this to become a regular habit for the blonde assassin.
Seconds later you and Peter walked into the kitchen side by side still dressed in your pjs. Unlike Yelena who woke Kate up at the crack of dawn to get an early head start on training. The two of you tended to sleep in whenever you guys could, and train later on. Most of the time you and Peter used the common criminals as training targets on morning patrols of the city.
"Good morning Kate and Yelena how are you guys? You greeted them with a cheerful smile taking a seat at the island. Peter headed straight for the fridge, and started pulling out various items.
Yelena shot Kate a look over his actions. It looked like Peter was about to start cooking anyway. Where was the harm in making a small request.
"We're good still a little tired from the early morning training session though." Kate answered sitting up in her chair a bit more.
"Yeah but you know what would make us feel better y/n?"
You looked up from scrolling on your phone. "What?"
"Some of your world famous pancakes, and Spidey's delicious scrambled eggs."
Her answer made you and Peter shot a quick glance at each other. Before turning back to look at Yelena. "You want us to whip up some breakfast for you two." It was a statement not a question.
"Yeah why not I mean it looks like you were about to cook anyway Peter."
"Yes for me and my partner. The two of you are always going out and getting food without us. Why should I cook for you?
"Yeah Peter was about to cook not me why should we?" You agreed folding your arms together on the counter.
Yelena answered before Kate could. "Because it's the right of passage when Kate first met Clint, she cooked for him for the entire mission. Plus I use to cook for Natasha all the time, and for a Kate when we first met. Kate and I didn't mean to leave you two out all the time, but we weren't properly introduced to you guys till a week ago. You know when you two finally started living here at the compound."
"Okay I still don't see how it's rite of passage we cook for you." You pointed out with a frown.
Kate shot Yelena a look indicating they should let the plan go, but the blonde was determined. "Because you're the newbies and we've been here longer. Just think of as initiation to the new Avengers."
"I guess that makes a little sense" Peter said with a shrug. You looked as if you wanted to continue to protest, but when he placed a hand on your shoulder, and nodded for you to join him. You caved getting up to join at the stove where the ingredients for the pancakes were already out.
Kate and Yelena waited until your guy's backs were too them before fist bumping each other. A few minutes passed by with you and Peter cooking in silence. Other than the occasional whisper to each other. At some point Kate got up and started setting the table up despite Yelena's silent protest. She figured it was the least she could do if you two were going to cook, and while Yelena didn't know it yet. She had every intention on making the blonde do the dishes. There was no way they were going to treat their teammates like servants. Even if they could getaway with it.
Yelena was scrolling through her phone watching funny dog videos. When you paused and turned around with mischievous look in your eyes. She didn't like it all.
Peter noticed it too and paused with a pan in his hand. "Is something wrong y/n."
"Yeah Pete we've been duped by these two."
"If this is initiation shouldn't they be cooking for us. After all weren't we brought onto the team long before them. If anyone is the newbies it's them not us" You explained.
Peter's eyes widened once he realized you were right, he placed the pan back on the stove, and turned around with the same look of mischief.
Kate halted in putting the plates on the table when she realized. You had caught on to their antics just as she feared. Yelena was slowly getting up out of her chair. Not sure of what you two were planning but knew that neither of you could be trusted. Kate turned around holding her hands up. "Easy guys come on the two of you have already cooked a good portion of food. How about Yel and I cook some bacon and sausage. We'll call it even and let bygones be bygones."
You and Peter both placed your chins in your hands, and looked up at the ceiling as if you were thinking about. Yelena was out of her chair unsure of what to do but wait. Ten agonizing long seconds went by before you and Peter shot each other a look. Then shook your heads and said "nahhhhhh."
The next thing Kate and Yelena knew pancake batter, flour, and egg yolks were flying towards them. Before they could really react some of it hit them in the face and upper body. That was all it took for them to snap out of the trance. Kate held up a plate to her face to protect it. While Yelena dove under the table to dodge incoming food fire. She moved the other chairs out of the way, so her hand could reach out, and snag Kate by the shirt. She tugged so hard the archer dropped to the floor with a yelp. The blonde wasted no time pulling her under the table, and out of the line of fire.
"I told you this would backfire on us" Kate shouted as the food onslaught continued. You and Peter were advancing on the two armed with food filled hands.
"Now is not the time can't you see we're at war" Yelena argued getting ready to arm her widow bites.
Kate's has widened in fear and she reached out to grab the blonde's wrist to make her stop. "We're not actually at war Yelena this isn't a real battle, and those two are our new teammates not enemies. You're not allowed to use real weapons against them. Its just a food fight our mission should be to get to the fridge. We would have unlimited ammo, and the advantage."
Yelena considered her plan for a few seconds before nodding. "Look at you Kate Bishop taking charge maybe you're not so bad."
Kate rolled her eyes and motioned for the blonde to follow her. Both of them kicked a chair out in your and Peter's direction making the two of you stumble to dodge it. Giving them enough time to move from underneath the table to head for the fridge.
"Peter they're going for the fridge" You alerted him because he was closer. Peter started launching globs of pancake batter to stop them, but they stayed low making him miss. You followed up throwing a egg yolk mixed with flour. By that time they had made it to the fridge where Yelena swung open the fridge door. The batter and egg flour mixture slammed into the door. Where the two were taking cover behind Kate rummaged through the fridge searching for something messy but not harmful. She stumbled upon some leftover mashed potatoes and pulled it out. Her and Yelena had to counterattack.
Neither you or Peter anticipated the retaliation coming, so when the blob of mashed potatoes smacked you in the face. You were absolutes stunned and paused your attacks giving Yelena and Kate the upper hand for the moment. Peter's spider senses alerted him so he ducked down as the food soared over his head. He moved tackling you to the floor behind the island. The mashed potatoes kept coming as Yelena started cackling like a evil villain.
Both you and Peter pulled yourselves up into a sitting position. Backs to the island y'all stayed low while trying to devise a new plan. "Maybe we didn't think this through."
"Since when do we think anything through Pete" You chuckled wiping your face with a discarded towel.
"Yeah well we need a plan."
"Simple one of us will draw fire while the other one gets more ammo." You told him nodding in the direction of the food sitting on the stovetop. Just a few feet away from you two, and far enough for the fridge that. Neither Kate or Yelena could get to without entering enemy territory.
"Okay I'll draw the fire you get the food." Peter agreed knowing with his spidey sense he would get hit less.
You nodded and held up a hand to count down silently when you got down to one. Peter jumped up catching a blob of mashed potatoes and throwing it back towards them. Now y'all were right across from each other with the kitchen island being the only thing standing between y'all. Kate saw you make a dash for the food on the stovetop, and turned back to the fridge for more food. While Yelena and Peter traded fire back and forth with each other.
Once the food was in your arms you made a dash for cover with. Peter following in your footsteps dropping low again behind the island. Kate threw food out of the fridge to the floor before pulling Yelena down behind the island. All of y'all were out of breath taking deep breaths. It was Peter who spoke up first "why don't we just call a truce before we ruin the kitchen."
"I think its a little too late for that" Kate called out. As if on cue a portion of pancake batter fell on Yelena's head from out of nowhere. "You two are dead." she yelled.
"Come on you two started this by tricking us" Peter argued.
"So you start a food war" Kate shot back.
"There's no way we're giving up" You announced.
"Fine then till the last team stands" Yelena agreed.
And before Kate or Peter could try and further reason. You and Yelena leapt up from the safety of the island to start launching food at each other. Neither of you were concerned with dodging anymore just focused on hitting the other. Peter grinned and with a battle cry joined you making it two against one. Until Kate realized that she couldn't leave Yelena alone to fight against you two. Even though she kinda of did deserve it after starting this whole mess. She backed her plan so it was only fair for her to see it to the end since they were partners.
For a while y'all were evenly matched with neither team gaining the upper hand. But ultimately Kate and Yelena held the overall advantage with having the fridge on their side. Which basically gave them unlimited ammo at some point you and Peter were starting to get low on ammo. At the point you realized that soon there would nothing left, and that would the two of you scrapping together stuff off the floor. You decided it was time to stop playing fair. "Peter don't you find it a little ridiculous that the two powered people are losing."
He groaned as some smushed banana hit him in the face and got in his eye. Courtesy of Yelena who was too busy celebrating that her and Kate were seemingly going to win, to realize what you were hinting at. "Yeah I think its time we turn the tables" Peter said rubbing his eye. You nodded and ducked down but not before Kate nailed you in the chest. Focusing on his webslingers you closed your eyes and opened your hand calling to the weapons. A second later the pair of webslingers appeared in your hand. "Peter come down here and suit up. I got this" You told him tugging on his pants. He dropped down to take the webslingers from you.
Yelena assumed both of you had retreated and therefore had given up. "Alright since you two lost now you have to clean the kitchen, and make us lunch." By the time the kitchen got cleaned up it would be well past time for breakfast.
"Yel careful it might not be over" Kate cautioned her partner.
"Oh what else could those two possibly do- her words were cut off when the bag of flour floated over, and dumped itself onto her head. Covering her entire body in flour you stood up with a smirk on your face. "Did you forget I have the power of telekinesis and teleportation."
"Ahhhhhh no fair Kate Bishop you said we had to play fair" Yelena cried coughing a bit from the flour.
"How was I supposed to know they were going to bust out the powers." Kate yelped as Peter shot up from behind the island and shot a web at her. So fast she didn't have time to dodge the web slammed into her stomach sticking her body to the fridge. Before she attempt to try and break free. He fired off two more shots at her hands forcing them to stick to the fridge as well.
Kate was trapped.
Yelena was too busy dealing with your telekinetic food onslaught too help her. If not she surely would've used her knives to cut through the web. Knowing you could handle yourself against the blonde Peter walked over to the forgotten case of eggs, and grabbed them. Then he slowly made his way over to Kate who eyes widened when she saw the near full carton of eggs. Her struggles increased but did no good.
"What the hell is this stuff made of?" she grunted frustrated.
Peter stopped right in front of her and shrugged. "Science" was his only answered before he cracked open a egg right over her head. The egg yolk fell into her hair and stayed put. He reached for another prompting her to plead.
"No come on Peter don't okay you win there's no need to open all of them. Please we're the reasonable ones out of those two right?"
"Yeah I guess you're right" Peter said with a nod making Kate sigh with relief. She glanced over where Yelena was somehow still putting up a fight despite you throwing as much food as you could with your telekinesis. Unlike Peter you let your opponent keep her mobility for a better challenge.
"But still you wanted breakfast and I can't think of anything better than a Hawkeye omelette" Peter said capturing her attention.
No no no I'm sor- Kate tried but it was too late another egg was cracked open. This time it slid down covering her forehead in the yolk. Peter burst into laughter and took out another egg at the same time. You let out a yelp as Yelena had finally given up on throwing food and tackled you to the floor. Where she pinned you and thrust her fingers into your stomach. You burst into giggles as your concentration was tickled away. And that was how the battle went on for a while. Peter made a mess of Kate's hair, and clothes with the eggs, because no matter how hard she struggled. She stayed stuck and Yelena wrecked you with tickles refusing to let up even when your slammed onto the floor. Indicating you were tapping out and had given up. The blonde assassin refused to take any chances with your powers.
It was Peter's senses started going off like alarm bells in his head. Alerting him to the approaching adults and the egg carton fell from his hand. As he took one good look around the kitchen realizing just how much damaged y'all did. The mess was everywhere with every part of the kitchen covered in messy food substance, and the chairs overturned. Peter started tearing through his webs that kept Kate pinned to the fridge. "I think Natasha and Clint are coming, we don't have much time to clean." He told her his movements becoming more frantic.
"What how are we suppose to clean this up in time?" Kate exclaimed. All of her anger replaced with fear of what their mentors would do to them. Ironically you and Peter would likely get off until Wanda and Steve returned from their missions. The only thing the two of you would have to suffer through till then was extra training if anything. Not to mention both of you could play the college card to get out of that. It truly wasn't fair.
"Yelena enough your sister is on her way" Kate whisper-shouted.
You let out a sigh of relief as Yelena's fingers finally stilled giving you freedom from the tickling. She looked down at you waiting for something.
"Fine you win I'll cook you breakfast" You gasped sitting up on your elbows.
Yelena nodded and finally stood up to walk over to Kate. "Alright what's the plan? How long do we have?"
"Maybe ten more seconds" Peter groaned reaching down to help you to your feet. "Y/N we're so dead."
Even though you were still getting your breath back. You were able to muster up a smirk that had him confused. "Are we?" were your last words right as Natasha and Clint appeared in the doorway of the kitchen. You and Peter disappeared in a blink of an eye before anyone could notice. They must have forgot you could teleport.
You teleported yourself and Peter to the locker rooms connected to the training gyms. "Let's get cleaned up before Nat and Clint come looking for us. There's no way those two don't blame us."
"Y/N you sneaky little devil this is so wrong and evil" Peter chuckled, already rummaging through a locker for a change of clothes.
"Round one goes to us."
Indeed Kate and Yelena tried to defend themselves as Nat and Clint stared them down. They insisted the two of you started it and teleported away to pin on them. Nat shook her head saying they would look into it meanwhile. Kate and Yelena were ordered to clean the entire kitchen by themselves then report to the meeting room for further punishment. Clint found you and Peter in the gym practicing some tag team moves. Both of you played dumb when he asked questions about the mess in the kitchen, and when Clint went to search the security footage. Somehow it was just gone he figured the kitchen surveillance was down. But in reality Peter used his gift from Tony to erase the footage.
You and Peter were on top for now.
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babe, i just thought of the softest thing for an x reader- could you write headcanons of bucky barnes, peter parker, and steve rogers (separately) x pregnant reader where they're basically giving the reader a spa day after a rough week of work and family and baby stuff - like bubble baths, massages, foot rubs, all the good stuff 🥺
giving you a spa day ✧ bucky barnes, steve rogers, & peter parker
angst city™ library | send in a request (consult request faqs first)
request: babe, i just thought of the softest thing for an x reader- could you write headcanons of bucky barnes, peter parker, and steve rogers (separately) x pregnant reader where they're basically giving the reader a spa day after a rough week of work and family and baby stuff - like bubble baths, massages, foot rubs, all the good stuff 🥺 - ☕ - quinns-wndrlnd
pairing: bucky barnes x pregnant!fem!reader; steve rogers x pregnant!fem!reader; peter parker x pregnant!fem!reader
word count: 983
warnings?: pregnant!reader, fluff
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your pregnancy had been on the rough side. something about carrying the child of a super soldier, the doctors hypothesized. your morning sickness was horrific, your stomach grew at a faster rate, you were constantly craving something.
of course, for as rough as it was, you wouldn’t trade it for the world. you loved that you and bucky would soon be raising your child.
bucky was beyond excited. he was already figuring out which crib was the best, what gadgets and gizmos were worth buying and what was not worth your time. oh, it was so endearing, seeing how excited he got.
but there were several people who weren’t as excited. namely, your boss.
granted, your boss wasn’t a big fan of you to begin with. but the second you started showing, started having to take more days off to go to doctor’s appointments because god carrying a super soldier baby was rough, she started using every opportunity to wear you down. you were half-convinced that she was going to deny you maternity leave, because she was just that cruel.
you’d generally been good about ignoring her, but this week…oh, it was a week from hell.
by the time friday rolled around, you just wanted to curl up in a ball and cry and cry and cry. and that’s what you were about to do, when you walked into your shared apartment with bucky, looking at the at-home spa set-up he’d put together.
“oh my god, what is all this?” you asked.
“i’d seen how stressed you were,” bucky said, “and i couldn’t get any appointments at any spas this week, so i decided i’d bring the spa to you.”
“you’re so fucking sweet, oh my god,” you said, choking on a sob. “i love you so much.”
“i love you too,” he said. “now, for the entire weekend, i’m completely at your service. anything you want, it’s yours.”
and oh, did he make that worth your while.
steve had completely taken you by surprise.
when you and steve got married, you decided that you would be a housewife. steve made plenty of money for the both of you and your future family, and if you had to choose between working a job you hated until you were able to retire and being able to take care of your home, taking care of your home won by a landslide.
of course, that didn’t mean you didn’t end up at your wit’s end from time to time.
steve had largely stopped going on long missions after the two of you married and began focusing on starting a family, wanting to be close to you when you needed him. but still, there were some missions that required him.
now that you were pregnant, those missions that he did go on became even worse than you. with your hormones completely out of whack, it made the distance even harder.
so when steve came back from his latest mission, telling you that he’d booked a couples’ retreat at the spa, you were over the moon.
“you are so good to me,” you said, looking over at steve as he drove the two of you up to the spa.
“you deserve it,” steve said. he’d been holding your hand as he drove, and he lifted your joined hands to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. “you do so much for me. you deserve me doing just as much for you.”
“you know, if you treat our kid as well as you treat me, they’re going to turn to a spoiled brat real quick,” you teased.
“perhaps,” he mused, “but i’d give anything for my family.”
peter often felt bad about how he didn’t have a lot of money to spoil you rotten the way he wanted to.
he had enough money to get by, but even that money was beginning to stretch thin after you got pregnant, nearly everything the both of you earned going towards prepping the apartment for the baby’s imminent arrival.
but, at work today, he’d gotten a pretty sizable bonus. well, it wasn’t a lot, but it was enough to get you something nice. but, what to get?
you often said there wasn’t anything you really wanted, that you had everything you need: a loving boyfriend, a roof over your head, food in your belly, a job you didn’t despise, and soon, yours and peter’s child. peter often wondered if that was actually true, or if you were just being nice so he wouldn’t feel bad.
peter put most of the money away in a rainy day fund, in case something came up (and something usually came up when it was least expected). but he had just enough money left over to book you a day at the spa.
he presented you with his gift when you got back from work, waddling in, groaning slightly as you kicked off your shoes.
“tough day?” he asked, kneeling down to help you pull off a shoe you couldn’t quite kick off on your own.
“you have no idea,” you said, kissing him when he stood back up after helping you with your shoe. “my mom called today, and she just kept criticizing everything i’ve been doing since we found out we were having a baby. i swear, there’s nothing i can do that’s right for that woman.”
“i’m sorry,” peter said. “i know that’s really hard. but, i think what i got to tell you might make you feel a bit better.”
you tilted your head. “what?”
“i got a bonus today, and i put most of the money away, but…i thought that you deserved a day down at the spa. i booked you a full day on saturday.”
“oh, pete—” you threw your arms around his neck, kissing him. “you are the sweetest man i’ve ever met.”
hey! I hope your day is going well, I was wondering if I can make a request?
Okay so the reader gets a new haircut and doesn’t like it because she thinks it’s to short (idk I’m imagining it that it’s to her shoulders) and Peter comforts and reassures her that it looks good!
u got it, anon! hope this is okay!
“I hate it so much.”
You’re staring at yourself in the mirror when the mumble falls from your lips. Tugging at your freshly cut hair, twisting and turning on the spot to see from a better angle in the hopes that it’ll make you feel better if you can see it from all sides.
In the reflection, you see Peter dump the book he’d been reading on the floor and look over at you from where he’s sprawled on your bed.
“What was that, baby?”
You know he’s heard you, his heightened senses make it near impossible for him not to, but he always gives you the chance to speak up or repeat yourself anyway.
“I said ‘m not too keen on my hair.”
Peter rolls off your comforter and walks over to you, steps light, concern nestled in his honey brown eyes. He takes his place behind you and you lean back, slotting against his chest like all the curves and soft nooks of his body have been made for you.
“You don’t like it?”
You’re quiet for a bit, contemplative, eyes burning holes into your reflection before you glance up at his.
“It’s just so…short? I don’t feel like me anymore. I didn’t realise they were going to cut so much off.”
Peter nudges your fingers away from where they’re still cruelly tugging at some strands of hair. Presses a sweet kiss to the side of your head as his warm hand clasps around your smaller one.
He sways the two of you from side to side a little. Rocking gently whilst he hums a low song you don’t quite recognise.
“Do I look like me to you?”
The doubt slips out before you have the chance to shove it back down your throat but Peter nods quickly, bringing the hand that isn’t holding yours up to brush against the slope of your jaw.
“You still look like you, bub. Still the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. Still my Y/N.”
You go warm, practically melting under his gentle touches and gaze. Flustered when his hand brushes against your neck tenderly and moves down to bracket the soft dip of your waist.
“It’s just a big change, hm?”
And it is a big change. A big and overwhelming change that doesn’t have an easy fix.
The thought of having to wait for your hair to grow out until you can feel like yourself again makes your eyes sting and Peter, as infuriatingly as ever, notices. Catches the wobble of your bottom lip, the watery sheen that covers your eyes.
“Oh, honey,” he spins you around when your tears begin to fall. As soon as you can’t see your reflection anymore, you find that the burning in your eyes and the weight on your chest eases.
Peter tilts your chin up with careful hands, thumbs sweeping under your eyes and brushing the wetness away.
“You still look stunning.”
“I’m scared it doesn’t suit me and I-” your voice fades into a whisper, “I was scared you’d hate it.”
If you weren’t so upset, the way Peter’s jaw drops open would be comical.
“Baby,” he murmurs, moving his hands up and against your hair, twirling some of it around his finger as he does so. “Baby, baby, baby. My love, my sweetheart, my honey-”
You giggle and Peter’s expression brightens a bit but he doesn’t stop talking, smacking kisses over your face between words.
“You are the love of my life, bub. Having shorter hair isn’t going to change that.”
Peter’s words aren’t condescending or a reprimand. Only a gentle reminder that he’ll love you come rain or shine. Something warm and fluttery blossoms in your tummy at his tone.
“I’d love you even if you decided to shave off the middle and grow out the sides like a mediaeval English monk.”
You snort at this, hitting him on the shoulder.
Peter gasps out in mock pain, catching your hand in his and pressing a kiss to your palm before you can hit him again, “You wound me, dovey. Right here in my heart.”
He gestures to his chest a little left of centre with a pained expression and you giggle again, leaning forward shyly to press a gentle kiss to the spot over the fabric of his shirt. When you pull away, he’s gazes down at you with lovesick eyes for a few seconds before pushing his lips against the crown of your head and pulling you in for an engulfing hug.
You smile into his chest and nod.
Beneath the Surface
Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader
Synopsis: during a pool day with the team, your bathing suit makes it difficult for Peter to focus
“Suit up, Parker. I need you outside.” Tony said as he knocked on Peters doorframe.
“Suit up? Is there a mission?”
“Even better. There’s a mandatory pool day.” Tony replied with an excited wiggle of his eyebrows.
“Can a pool day be mandatory?” Peter wondered.
“Can a boy be strangled?” Tony asked in the same tone. They both fell silent as they stared at each other and Peter gulped a little.
“Pool day. Ten minutes.” Tony said with a big smile after a beat of silence.
“I’ll be there.” Peter nodded quickly.
“Glad to have you. See you out there.” Tony patted Peters doorframe before walking away. Not wanting to upset Tony, Peter quickly changed into bathing suit shorts and a t shirt. He slipped into his flip flops before heading down to the pool. He found Steve, Tony, and Thor sitting around a table under a big umbrella while Shang Chi, Sam, and Scott were in the pool. They all already had their shirts off, making Peter feel a little self conscious in the presence of all their super sized muscles.
“Look who’s arrived.” Steve smiled up at Peter as he shielded his eyes from the sun.
“Yep.” Peter smiled weakly. “It’s me.”
“Look who it is!” Thor cheered before leaning over to the other guys.
“Who is that?” He whispered loud enough for Peter to hear.
“Um…Peter.” Peter answered in confusion.
“It’s nice to meet you, Umpeter. I’m Thor.” Thor smiled brightly and held out his hand. Peter frowned and shook Thors hand as he looked at the others for an explanation.
“You Midgardians and your silly names.” Thor chuckled as he looked at the other guys again.
“Thor, it’s me. Peter.” Peter said again.
“Yes. I know that now. Pleasure to meet you.”
“We…we have met.” Peter said slowly.
“Have we?” Thor frowned.
“That’s Spiderman. You probably haven’t seen him without his mask on.” Steve said in Peters defense.
“I don’t remember ever meeting a Spiderman.” Thor shook his head.
“Well you have.” Peter told him. “Many times. And it’s me.”
“No. I don’t think so. I’ve never seen this man in my life.” Thor shrugged.
“Yes you have. He was with us when we fought Thanos.” Steve reminded him.
“And when we went on that mission to Scotland. He was the one in the skintight red and blue suit.”
“I sat next to you at dinner last night.” Peter reminded him.
“I thought you were the waiter.” Thor tilted his head to the side.
“There was no waiter. We were here in the tower. It was a home cooked meal.” Tony cut in.
“Hm. Then why did you bring me my beer?” Thor asked Peter.
“Because you asked me to. All eleven times.”
“I know. And that’s why I left you a nice tip. You’re make an excellent waiter, Umpeter.” Thor smiled and gave Peter a pat on the shoulder.
“Oh my God.” Peter sighed and rubbed his eyes.
“Rogers, can you pass the baby oil?” Thor requested.
“Please don’t.” Steve sighed as he pushed the bottle of baby oil on the table towards Thor.
“What? They don’t have sun like this back on Asgard. And I want a nice even tan to impress Jane. Her muscles are almost as big as mine now and I’m starting to feel…oh, what’s that word?” Thor asked as he rubbed baby oil all over his skin.
“Small?” Peter shrugged.
“No. No one would ever use that word to describe me.” Thor chuckled. “I’m thinking of another word. What’s that thing you humans feel all the time when in the presence of someone greater than you?”
“Inferior?” Tony asked.
“Ah, yes. That’s the one.” Thor smiled and rubbed more baby oil onto his body. “Mm. I smell delicious. Like a baby’s bottom.”
“Okay. On that note, I’m gonna go say hi to the girls.” Peter smiled weakly before turning away. He walked over to Natasha and Wanda, who were sitting on the edge of the deep end with their feet dangling into the water.
“Look who it is!” Natasha smiled when Peter approached.
“Please say you guys know who I am.” Peter sighed.
“Of course we do. Sit down.” Natasha said and patted the space between her and Wanda.
“Have you applied your sunscreen yet?” Wanda asked and picked up the bottle beside her. Ever since she learned that Peter didn’t have a mother, she took it upon herself to look after him.
“No. Not yet.” Peter told her. Wanda was already squirting some sunscreen into her hand and rubbing it together to warm it up.
“Come here. I don’t want you to burn.” Wanda said as she applied sunscreen to Peters face.
“Did you bring a towel?” Natasha asked him.
“No. I forgot one.” Peter replied.
“It’s okay. I brought extra.” Natasha told him and handed him an extra towel.
“Oh. Thank you.” Peter smiled and put the towel on his lap. “It’s a lot nicer over here than by the guys.”
“We think so too.” Wanda chuckled.
“And look who else decided to join us.” Natasha smiled as she looked up at something above Peter. Peter turned his head and made eye contact with you, making him choke on his saliva. You were wearing a baggy T shirt that covered you like a dress.
“Hey guys. This is so fun. I’m glad we’re doing this.” You smiled as you approached the group.
“H-h-hi.” Peter stammered. “I didn’t know you were home from college yet.”
“I got home late last night. Tony texted me about the pool party and I came right down.”
“Oh. Well I’m glad you’re here. I’ve…I’ve missed you.” Peter said with a shy smile. He had formed a somewhat enormous crush on you when he met you last summer at the tower. You came home from college for Christmas and Spring break, only making peters crush grow the more he saw you. He didn’t expect to see you today and his heart had yet to stop pounding.
“Aw. I’ve missed you too, Peter.” You smiled at him.
“What about me? Did you miss me?” Natasha teased as she and Wanda stood up. Peter stood up as well and waiting behind Natasha and Wanda as you greeted them.
“Of course I did. Both of you.”
You hugged them both and kissed their cheeks in that way that girls did where lips never actually touch the persons cheek but you both make the kissing sound. When you got to Peter, you gave him a quick hug but no kiss. He didn’t expect a kiss since you weren’t exactly friends, but he was still disappointed.
“I’m gonna go say hi to the boys. Then I’ll be back.” You told them.
“Good. We need all the college details.” Wanda said and gave you a look.
“You’ll get them soon enough.” You assured her before walking away. Peter watched longingly as you walked over to the other Avengers. He felt a twinge of jealousy as you greeted them all with a big smile. The amount of shiny muscles that surrounded you was making Peter worry that he had competition. He was fit, but he wasn’t Thor. And he was strongly reminded of that as he watched Thor lift you off the ground and spin you around.
“Don’t worry. You’ll graduated from hugs to cheek kisses soon enough.” Natasha said from behind Peter.
“W-what?” Peter stammered.
“Don’t play dumb. The jealousy was radiating off of you when she kissed us and not you.” Wanda chuckled as she watched the way Peter stared at you.
“I saw it too.” Natasha chimed in.
“I don’t know what you guys are talking about.” Peter lied without ever taking his eyes off of you.
“It’s okay if you like her.” Wanda insisted. “We won’t tell.”
“I don’t like her. I mean, I do. Just not in the way you guys are thinking. That would be….that would be silly.” Peter scoffed, all three of them knowing he was lying through his teeth.
“Uh huh. Whatever you say.” Wanda said and playfully rolled her eyes. Peter looked over at you again and let out a little sigh. He felt a physical pain in his chest from how much he liked you, but he couldn’t bring himself to admit that.
“I just like her as a friend. That’s all.” Peter lied as he stared at you longingly. Just then, you pulled your baggy shirt off and put it on a chair, revealing the skimpy little black bikini you had on underneath. Peter felt all the blood rush to his face as he whole body heated up. Your entire body was exposed for Peter to see and he found himself unable to breathe.
“Holy shit. Why is her bathing suit so tiny?” He whispered under his breath as he stared at you with wide eyes.
“What was that?” Natasha wondered.
“N-nothing. I was just talking to myself.” Peter said as he continued to stare at you. You were tying your hair out of your face, arching your back a little and tilting your head back to make it easier to gather your hair. Peter was staring right at your boobs, which he felt like you were practically putting on display for him with your actions.
“Peter.” Natasha chuckled and playfully smacked his arm.
“What?” Peter wondered.
“Stop staring at her boobs.” Wanda snorted.
“What? I’m not.” Peter insisted as he finally tore his eyes away.
“You totally are. You’re not even being subtle about it. You gotta stop.” Natasha chuckled again.
“I’m not staring at her. You’re all staring at her.” Peter mumbled.
“Peter, you’re gonna freak her out. You’re freaking me out and I’m not the one who’s boobs you’re staring at.” Wanda shrugged.
“I’m freaking her out? You guys are freaking me out. You’re all crazy. Crazy crazy crazy. I don’t even - what? What are you even talking about. I have no idea. I’m not- I’m not even….I’m gonna get a drink.” Peter grumbled and walked away from the girls. He went over to the cooler and bent down to grab a water bottle from inside. When he stood up, you were standing right in front of him.
“Hey.” You smiled brightly at him. Peter was mid sip and started choking on his drink when he got another glimpse of your boobs in your tiny bikini.
“Boobsboobsboobsboobs.” His mind said as he tried his absolute hardest to maintain eye contact with you.
“Hey. How’s it going?” He laughed weakly and took an uncomfortably long sip of his drink.
“Pretty good. I’m honestly so happy to be home. It’s cold up there in Boston. There’s never days as sunny as this.” You said as you looked up at the sun. Peter was half listening, half fighting the demons in his head that were urging him to look down at your boobs. He wanted to answer you in a cool way that impressed you, but all he could think was,
“Boobies. Boobies in bikini. Boobies in black bikini right before my very eyes.”
“Yeah. It’s sunny.” He said, immediately regretting how lame he sounded. He was better than a two word answer but he could not bring himself to focus.
“Yeah.” You laughed awkwardly. “So how was your semester? You’re at NYU right?”
“Yeah. It was good.” Peter have another short answer as his mind scrolled through every possible name for boobs that he could think of.
“Watermelons. Coconuts. Papayas. Other tropical fruits.”
“Well I’m happy to hear that. Mine was good too.” You replied, making Peter internally cringe when he realized he should’ve asked you how your semester was. He wanted so badly to have a normal conversation with you that propelled you towards a romantic relationship but all he could think was,
“Goo goo. Goo gaga.”
“That’s nice.” He blurted. “Did you make any friends?”
“A few. I’m not really good at making friends.” You shrugged, making Peter relax a little when he realized you weren’t so different.
“Me either. I’m kinda shy.” He admitted.
“That’s okay.” You smiled. “I’m kinda shy too.”
Peter smiled softly at you and you smiled back. Before he got ahead of himself, he needed to know if you were even available. He knew there was no was to subtly ask if you had a boyfriend, so he decided to beat around the bush.
“So did you meet anyone who lives around here? Anyone you might want to bring around?” Peter asked, trying to sound casual.
“Not really. There was this one guy though who lives on Long Island. We hung out a couple times.”
“Uh huh.” Peter nodded and tried to remain calm.
“But I think he said he was visiting his boyfriend in California for the summer.” You continued, making Peter relax.
“That’s great. California is great. Lotta gay people.” Peter said, immediately regretting it.
“Yeah.” You laughed awkwardly as your eyes darted to the side. “I’m, uh, I’m gonna go catch up with the girls. I’ll catch up with you later.”
“Bye.” Peter weakly waved to you as you walked away.
“It’s all right. Don’t worry too much about it, kiddo.” Tony called from the table.
“Worry about what?” Peter wondered.
“That completely cringe inducing interaction you just had.” Tony said sweetly.
“It wasn’t that bad. There are a lot of gay people in California.” Shang Chi came to Peters defense as he sat down.
“It was pretty bad.” Thor snorted.
“Oh no. Do you think she thought it was bad?” Peter worried as he took a seat.
“Oh absolutely.” Thor nodded, making Peter sink in his chair in disappointment.
“Yeah. She’s definitely reenacting it for the girls right now. And she’s probably imitating you using a deep voice to demonstrate how dumb you are.” Shang Chi said as he pointed to you and the other girls. Peter looked over at you and saw you laughing as you told the girls a story.
“Oh no. You’re probably right.” Peter groaned.
“It’s okay. We’ve all struck out with the ladies.” Steve assured him.
“Not me. I have to fight women off with a stick. But I would never actually hit a woman with a stick, so it’s more of a gentle shooing away.” Thor said as he made shooing motions with his hand.
“Thanks Thor.” Peter smiled tightly.
“It was one lame conversation. Don’t let it deter you. She’ll only be home until August. If you like her, you should go for it.” Tony encouraged.
“I know.” Peter sighed. “I just couldn’t concentrate on what she was saying when she looks that pretty. And I’ve never seen her with that little clothing on before. I can’t even think right now.”
“Then suck it up and imagine she’s wearing a scuba suit or something. If you want to have a summer romance, you have to lock it down today.”
“Maybe you’re right.” Peter said as he looked over at you again.
“Don’t look now, but you have a superhero stalker.” Wanda said when she noticed Peter staring at you.
“What? Who?” You smiled excitedly and looked over your shoulder.
“Spiderman is totally checking you out.” Natasha chuckled.
“What? No he’s not.” You laughed it off but noticed it too.
“He is. He’s been staring at you even since you showed up.” Wanda insisted.
“Really? He has?” You asked hopefully.
“Yeah. Look at him.” Wanda nodded towards Peter and you looked over at him again. You made eye contact with Peter and waved to him, to which he shyly waved back.
“You two would make a pretty cute couple.” Natasha shrugged, making you playfully roll your eyes.
“I don’t know. I do think he’s cute.” You admitted.
“You do?” Wanda scrunched her nose.
“Don’t make that face. He’s really sweet and kinda awkward but he’s also really funny when he doesn’t mean to be. And look at that face.” You sighed and looked over at Peter again.
“Oh God. They all keep looking over here. They’re probably talking about how much of a loser I am.” Peter said once he saw you all looking at him.
“Yeah. Probably.” Thor nodded.
“Don’t listen to him. They’re probably not saying that.” Steve assured him.
“No. They’re definitely making fun of me.” Peter groaned.
“If you’re so concerned, why not use your super hearing and listen in?” Tony suggested.
“I can’t do that. She deserves to mock me mercilessly in privacy.” Peter sighed.
“Wow. And they say chivalry is dead.” Tony chuckled.
“Aw. I remember Chivalry. He was the one that could shrink and grow right?” Thor asked the group.
“Oh my God.” Peter groaned again. “I’m gonna go for a swim.”
“Yeah. For a pool day, not a single one of us is in the pool.” Tony noticed. Peter got out of his chair and went over to the edge of the pool.
“Don’t forget your floaties Parker!” Tony called. You looked up when you heard this just as Peter was tugging off his shirt.
“Oh my God.” Your jaw dropped when you saw Peters body. His swim suit trunks were hanging low on his hips, leaving very little to the imagination. He jumped into the pool and you felt a little disappointment now that the ab show was over.
“Did you guys see that? Did you see his body?” You whispered to the girls.
“No. I don’t really make it a point to look at men.” Wanda replied.
“Fair enough. But I was totally not expecting Peter to have a body like that. He looked like he was sculpted by a God.”
“Ask Thor. Maybe he was.” Natasha shrugged.
“I gotta get in there. Wish me luck.” You said as you stood up. You walked over to the shallow end of the pool where the stairs were and started to form a plan. You grabbed a pair of goggles that were lying on the ground and put them on before going into the water. Peter was swimming towards the middle of the pool when you emerged through the surface. Your goggles were squishing your nose and your hair was plastered against your forehead, but he thought you looked beautiful.
“Do you want to play mermaids with me?“ You asked, your voice sounding nasally from the goggles. Peter burst out laughing and nodded his head.
“Yeah. I do.”
“Okay. My tail is pink and purple and sparkly and it’s really pretty and it glows in the dark. What does your tail look like?”
“Blue and green and my shell bra is purple and my hair is really long and gold and also glows in the dark.” He played along, making you crack a smile.
“Okay. My hair is pink and sparkly and really long too. And I have a crown that’s gold and my bra is gold too. And I have water powers.”
“My power is that I can talk to fish and I can sing really well.” Peter replied, making you laugh.
“You’re pretty good at this.” You told him. “Have you actually played mermaids before?”
“No but I’m not missing my chance now. What other childhood pool memories do you want to relive?”
“I don’t know. Wanna see me do a handstand?” You smirked as you pulled off your goggles and threw them to the side.
“Oh absolutely.” Peter said. You smiled before going under the water and doing a handstand. Your legs were completely bent and you were leaning to the right, but in your mind you thought your form looked flawless. When you came back up, you had a proud smile on.
“That was so good.” Peter said sarcastically. “Wanna see mine?”
You nodded your head and Peter went under the water. He did a perfect handstand that made your jaw drop.
“Fuck you. That was perfect.” You playfully scoffed when he came back up.
“Thanks.” He chuckled. “What else can we do?”
“Do you want to have a holding breath contest?”
“Obviously. Let’s do it.” Peter grinned before going under the water. You both opened your eyes under the water and looked at each other while your cheeks puffed out with the air you were holding in. You stayed under for around 30 seconds before Peter went up for air with you going shortly after.
“Ha! I won!” You grinned once you came up.
“Congratulations. You should feel really proud.” Peter said with a falsely huge smile, making you laugh again.
“Wait a minute. Did you let me win?”
“Maybe.” Peter smiled shyly.
“What? You can’t just let me win.” You said as you playfully splashed him.
“I had to. I can hold my breathe for five straight minutes. And I’m not even kidding.”
“Okay Percy Jackson.” You mumbled under your breath, making Peter laugh.
“Your tone implies that was an insult but Percy Jackson is the most iconic man alive today.”
“Right. Living icon. Totally real person. Not a fictional sixth grader.” You smiled sarcastically.
“You know after I read that book, I made my aunt and uncle dye all my food blue so I could be like Percy.” Peter told you, bringing a smile to your face.
“That’s so cute. I used to stay in the shower for hours and pretend I could control the water.”
“I did the same.” Peter smiled, and you smiled back at him. You were both paddling in the water to stay afloat as you looked at each other. Peter looked at the water drops hanging off your eyelashes and your slicked back hair and smiled fondly at you. You were busy admiring the way a he looked with the summer sun shinning in his eyes, making them appear golden.
“Can I ask you something?” You asked quietly as you swam a little closer to him.
“How come you can talk to me all of the sudden? Not that I didn’t enjoy our little conversation over by the cooler, but somethings different this time. How come you’re so relaxed all the sudden?”
“Because your boobs are under the water and I can actaully focus on the words you’re saying.” Peter thought to himself.
“I don’t know. The water makes it easier for some reason. I feel like I can be myself.” Peter said instead.
“Good. I’m glad you feel like that. Because I like talking to you when you actually talk.” You said with a teasing smile.
“I like talking to you too.” Peter smiled shyly. You stared at each other for a moment and felt like you were the only two people in the world.
“We should hang out more. I’ll be home all summer. I think you and I could be really good friends.” You said, bringing a blush to Peters face.
“Yeah. I would love that. I would love to be friends.” Peter said as he nodded too many times.
“Cool.” You said as you stopped paddling and stood up. You ran your fingers through your hair to get it out of your face as Peter watched it in what felt like slow motion. The top half of your body was out of the water, once again giving Peter a full view of your boobs. This time, you were soaking wet from the pool water and your bikini was sticking to you like a second skin.
“Dan nicki your bobbies.” Peter mumbled under his breath as he stared directly at your boobs.
“What was that?” You wondered as you sunk back beneath the water.
“Nothing.” Peter said quickly and threw on a smile. You smiled back and padded closer to him again as your eyes drifted over his shoulder.
“They’re all looking at us.” You whispered and nodded behind him. Peter looked over his shoulder and saw all the Avengers looking at the two of you as the whispered things to each other.
“Yeah. They are.” Peter gulped and looked back at you. You had been staring at Peter and he caught you now that he was looking back. You quickly looked away so he wouldn’t notice that you had been staring. Peter still noticed, and now he was intrigued.
“Do you like them?” Peter asked you. It wasn’t lost on him that the two of you were surrounded by earths mightiest hero’s and they all had their bulging muscles out. The chances of you liking him out of all the options you had were pretty low.
“Some of them.” You shrugged. “Tony bring some weirdos around here sometimes though. I was talking to that Dr. Morbius guy once and he totally morbed all over my salad.”
“That sounds like a nightmare.” Peter chuckled.
“It was.” You agreed with a huff. The both of you laughed, leaning into each other as you did. When the laughter died down, you were left staring at each other.
“You have really nice eyes.” You smiled softly.
“You have really nice boobs.” Peter said in the same tone. Your eyebrows went up in surprise as Peter slapped a hand over his mouth.
“What?” You laughed in shock.
“Oh my God!” Peter said through his hand. “I meant boobs. You have really nice boobs.”
“Peter.” You laughed nervously as your eyes darted to the side to see if anyone else was hearing this conversation.
“I’m sorry! Oh my God. I’m so sorry. I’m trying to say boobs. You have really nice boobs. Shit. Oh my God. It just keeps happening. Eyes. Your eyes are really nice. That’s what I tried to say the first time. I swear.” Peter stumbled over his words as his entire face burned red.
“But what about my boobs?”
“Pardon?” Peter gulped.
“Are they nice or not? Like, what was the final verdict?” You asked, sounding completely genuine.
“Oh, uh. They’re nice. They’re very nice. They seem like two great girls.” Peter nodded too many times as he struggled to maintain eye contact with you.
“Thanks. They are.” You said with a straight face. You cracked a smile and started to laugh, making Peter realize you were just teasing him. He relaxed a little and laughed as well. He thought he had completely blown it with you, but if you were teasing him, maybe he still had a chance.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m not a creep, I promise. It’s just a little hard for me to think straight right now when you’re practically naked.”
“Excuse me.” You playfully shoved him. “I have a swimsuit on.”
“Barely.” Peter said under his breath, making you laugh again.
“I didn’t want any tan lines.” You said as you looked down at your bathing suit, realizing he had a point about how little you were wearing.
“Well you won’t get any in that thing.” Peter said as his eyes briefly dropped to your bikini top.
“For your information, you’re way more naked then I am. One of us is topless right now. One.” You pointed out as you admired his perfectly sculpted body for a second. Peter blushed a little and felt his confidence grow.
“Fair enough. I’m still sorry for what I said, though. I swear, I’m usually a gentleman.”
“It’s okay.” You assured him. “If I’m being honest, I haven’t been thinking the purest thoughts either ever since you took your shirt off.”
“Wait, really?” Peter asked skeptically.
“Really.” You nodded as you swam even closer to him. Your chests were almost touching now as you kicked your legs beneath the water to stay afloat. You looked at each other for a minute before your eyes dropped to his lips.
“Do you want to have another breath holding contest?” You asked when your eyes met his again.
“Okay. Sure.” Peter chuckled, thinking that the timing was weird but going along with it anyway.
“Keep your eyes open this time.” You told him before going under the water. Peter smacked himself in the face to hype himself up before going under as well. He forced his eyes open once he was under the water and made eye contact with you. Your cheeks were full of air but he could still tell that you were smiling. Peter watched as you swam towards him and put your hands on his face. You pulled him into a kiss and all the air left his mouth, sending bubbles up to the surface. He shut his eyes and kissed you back as he put his hands on either side of your face. It excited him that you were kissing in front of everyone, yet no one could see it. It was your little secret between the two of you as you kissed beneath the surface. You pulled away when you ran out of air and swam up. Peter went up first, then you. When you met him up on the surface, you saw the huge smile on his face as he pushed the wet hair off his forehead. You stared at each breathlessly for a while as water dripped down your faces. You were both smiling as you panted and gasped for air.
“You won this time. For real.” He told you to break the silence.
“I know.” You chuckled and wrapped your arms around his neck. Peter was about to lean in to kiss you again when he heard Tony’s voice.
“Get a room you two.” Tony called from the table. Peter turned bright red as you pulled away from him, both of you now aware that you had the entire team of Avengers staring at you. Wanda and Natasha gave you a thumbs up while the boys smiled proudly at Peter.
“Yeah. You pervs better not be doing anything nasty under the water.” Steve called out from behind the barbecue with a cheeky smile.
“We are!” You called back and wrapped your arms around Peter again. Peter laughed shyly and buried his face in your neck, wishing more than anything that he could be alone with you.
“Ignore him. He’s an idiot.” You said into Peters ear.
“I’ve noticed.” Peter smiled as he picked his head up off his neck.
“Foods ready!” Steve announced. You and Peter looked at each other and felt a shared disappointment now that the moment was over. You both let out little sighs and got out of the pool. Peter grabbed the towel he got from Natasha and wrapped it around your shoulders.
“Here.” Peter said as he rubbed his hands up and down your arms to warm you up now that you were out of the pool.
“Oh. Thanks.” You smiled at him as you walked together over to the table.
The avengers lined up near the food table and started to fill up their plates. You stood behind Peter in line and rested your chin on his shoulder.
“Are you gonna get all quiet on me now that we’re out of the water?” You whispered in his ear.
“I might.” Peter whispered back with a coy smile. You smiled back and gave his arm a gentle squeeze.
“I’ll take my chances.” You told him as you grabbed plates for the two of you. You got your food and walked over to the ring of chairs with the rest of the Avengers. There was a fire going on the center of the chairs, making a cozy atmosphere as the sun began to set. Peter sat down in one of the big chairs and you sat down in the same chair. You were squished together and barely had enough room for both your butts to fit, but neither of you cared. Peter blushed a deep pink and smiled at you before resting his head on your shoulder. He could feel the material of your towel against his face and sighed in content. You sat quietly and ate your food while the rest of the team snuck looks at you.
“You two look awfully cozy.” Natasha commented, pulling you and Peter out of your little bubble.
“Yeah. What exactly happened in that pool?” Tony asked, making you and Peter look at each other and laugh.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?“ You shrugged and took a bite of your pasta salad.
“I for one actually would like to know.” Steve said and the group nodded in agreement.
“Too bad.” You stated and leaned back in the chair. Peter smiled and slipped an arm around you as he watched the sun sink into the airy skyline. You stayed out by the pool until it was nighttime, just talking and catching up with everyone. You could hear the bugs and and crickets chirping, the sounds of summer that reminding you of when you were young. You eventually moved into Peters lap and sat with his arms securely around your waist as you participated in the conversation. Eventually, your tiredness overcame you and you let out a yawn.
“Well I personally have a lot of unpacking to do. But this was really fun. Thanks for doing this, Mr. Stark. I had a good time.” You said as you got out of your seat.
“So did I, kiddo.” Tony smiled at you as he gave your hand a squeeze.
“I’ll see you guys tomorrow. Night everyone.” You said to the team.
“Goodnight.” Everyone said to you in a sleepy chorus of partings. You looked down at Peter, who was still in his seat, and nodded towards the door.
“You coming?” You asked him.
“Yeah.” He smiled shyly and got out of his seat. You slipped your hand into Peters and silently walked together until you reached your bedroom in the tower. Peter leaned against your doorway and watched as you took some pajamas out of a packed suitcase.
“Here’s my plan. I don’t actually think I’m gonna unpack. I think I’m just gonna take things out of my suitcase as I need them and one day, the suitcase will be empty.” You explained to Peter as you took some socks out the suitcase.
“That’s a good plan. Or, I could help you unpack. It’ll go quicker if there’s two of us.” Peter suggested, trying to subtly bring the conversation back to the idea of an “us.” Peter watched you smile a little and knew you must’ve caught on to his plan.
“Can we talk about what happened in the pool?” Peter asked quietly as he picked at the paint of your door frame. You stopped riffling around in your suitcase and turned to look at him. You walked over to where he was and rested your hands on his chest. Peters face heated up and you sleepily smiled at him before leaning in to kiss him. He kissed you back, deciding that he liked kissing better when it wasn’t under the water. When you pulled away, you looked into his eyes and patted his chest.
“See you tomorrow, seaweed brain.” You whispered against his lips before pushing him out of you room and shutting the door.
Tag List 🏷
awesomebooklover17 @thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling @serendipitous-amor
@lavender-writer @whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101
@letsloveimagines @peterparkoure @a-villain-vying-for-attention @justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr @mara-twins @maryjanee23 @geeksareunique @emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland @flixndchill @sovereignparker @thisisthebiplace @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @caelestii-e @eridanuswave @itscaminow @fiantomartell @wrendermeuseless
Your Friendly Neighborhood Sensitive Spider [TASM!Peter Parker]
Summary : Peter's senses are really easily overwhelmed. He always finds comfort in you. This time you're the reason of his sensitivity.
Pairing : TASM!Peter Parker x Reader
Warning : 18+ ONLY, Minors DNI, smut, pure smut really, i can barely remember the plot, it's just filth, creampie, heats basically ??, primal kink, dark undertones, dub-con kinda, pet names (bunny), handjob, pussyjob, face sitting, cumplay, masturbation kinda, unprotected sex, rough sex, overstimulation of both peter and reader, manhandling of reader (peter basically doesn't stop fucking her), overwhelmed/oversensitive peter, titty worshipping (a teenie tiny bit), a lot of cum omg ?? genuinely, this is pure fucking smut, only that, kinda very precise description of physical features and sexual events ?? idk, please avoid at all costs if you think you might be triggered by any of these topics or the fic
A/N : did i write 10k plus words of smut ?? maybe... enjoy this because school is starting again and i bitch decided to pursue an education instead of running away in the wild
Peter had always been very awkward with people and human interactions in general. It all came from his very good capacity to figure people out by simply looking at them. He was an incredible judge of character even before the spider bite and after that, it all turned into something else. That awkwardness of his had been turned into sensitivity, or even oversensitivity. He was easily stimulated by sounds, movements or smells and he had to learn how to live all over again.
Adaptation had been difficult at first but quickly he found tricks to work around life as discreetly as he could. One of these was you. You were the most efficient thing he ever came across when it came to calming his sensitive senses.
When he met you he’d could vividly remember having a terrible migraine because of the violence of all the noises around him. He had retreated to a secluded room, in an abandoned building on campus. He used it regularly to hide and was surprised to see someone in the room, you. You were sleeping on your bag and he wanted to leave but when he focused a little more, he was surprised to not hear a thing. He couldn’t hear the noises around except the sound of your soft breathing sounds.
He was absolutely flabbergasted, so much so that he rushed to you and kneeled in front of you to make sure he wasn’t going crazy. He even checked your pulse for you, completely ignoring your boundaries or personal space in the process, but making sure you were alive at least or not doing something to his brain. Weirdly enough, you had woken up a little surprised but not worried by the tall man looking frantically over you.
When you asked if he was okay, he leaped backwards. The whole move was very strange and when he thought about it, it was no wonder you’d guessed he was Spiderman. You had this effect on him, this hold on his senses and his mind, you just made it all so calm and effortless. He felt like he was seating on a cloud with soft satin pillows, heavy comforters and your soft legs wrapped around his waist. This was his happy place and every time he thought about it, he thanked his heightened senses for granting him the ability to feel it as if it was currently happening. He could feel the heat of your thighs on his palms, the scent of your collarbones and your soft and supple breasts serving as pillows for his face. You were his peace.
You made him feel so good, his entire body went numb to a point of losing the ability to think rationally. He remembered the things he would do when you two had become friends. Some random guy would scream and he’d start playing with your fingers. He’d be walking with you and a gust if wind would blow, his first instinct was to pull you towards him to have a little bit of your body heat. The sunlight would be too bright sometimes, he’d hide his face in the crook of your neck.
You’d grown use to it overtime, welcoming him with open arms. You had been able to understand the things that triggered him and would sooth his at the best of your capacities. Your favorite thing to do was bring his head to your shoulder and caress his hair softly while shushing him in a low voice. The low sounds brought him comfort and managed to drown everything around. You didn’t understand how but science wasn’t your things so you didn’t try to figure it out.
Peter’s need to physically feel you to be generally okay and able to go through his day without being the absolute worst often expressed in surprising ways. These ways you discovered them slowly, each and everyone of them slowly revealing themselves at the most random moments possible.
Again, you’d guessed he was Spiderman because this need to feel you prevailed over common sense. It happened on a Thursday night, you’d been writing an essay for one of your classes when you noticed the shadow of a figure in the distance. When you turned around, it quickly hid behind a wall. Now, the red fingertips and the fact that you lived on the fourteenth floor told you who it was very easily. You were no stranger to Spiderman and his weird way of appearing everywhere you were, but having him in front of your window was very new. Paying more attention to his physical shape, it was very familiar to you. Too familiar. You didn’t even think before pulling on his hand and bringing him towards you with a surprised expression mixed with a smile.
The moment you uttered his name, he wrapped you in his arms, falling on your floor and rolling around. He ripped his mask off and rubbed his nose on the crown of your head, inhaling your scent. He refused to lie to you, probably because he was incapable of doing so, and honestly, you already knew so he saw no point in fighting the truth. That night you stayed on the floor for a few hours before snuggling under your covers, still tangled in each other.
Now, to go back on topic, Peter Parker was one sensitive man just like he could find relief in you, you could also make it ten times worse for him at times. In these situations, you were the main trigger to his sensitivity and that he figured it out on one of the most random days of his life. On that fateful day he felt like he would die if he didn’t fuck you raw.
This had to be the worst fucking day possible to have superpowers. Genuinely, he was ready to trade body with whoever would be up for it. From the moment he woke up, he felt like his skin was burning all over. Covered in sweat and twisting uselessly, in hope of finding a little bit of peace and cold, he moaned out your name, begging for you to suddenly appear and save him.
"I... Fuck... I need my bunny... Where is she...?" He groaned, rolling around and searching you.
He’d managed to pull himself together just enough to get up and get ready but getting ready had been exhausting, his entire body feeling heavy and still burning as if he hadn’t spent twenty minutes under the most freezing shower ever. While on his way to the train station, he noticed that his senses seemed to be dulled, the sewer stench common to the streets of New York weirdly absent. His vision was blurry enough for him to need his glasses, he was hearing everything but it sounded like he was wearing earplugs and everything he touched felt sticky but distance. He was practically certain to be hallucinating half the things he thought he had touched.
Looking up from the floor, his head to heavy to be raised, he was attacked by something so familiar and good. The comfort he craved on a regular and specifically today. There you were, as beautiful as ever, your headphones wrapped around your head and your eyes looking off to the distance.
"Bunny..." He said softly, immediately feeling better.
He was pretty far from you, far enough to not usually be able to smell you but today he could. So distinctly, he felt dizzy the moment he took a big gulp of air. He could distinguish it all, separating each of the different things resulting in the most addictive smell he’s ever smelled in his life. The citrus from your body soap, the tropical fruits from your hair creams, the vanilla from your perfume, all of it was so vivid, attacking his nostrils and pulling him with force towards you.
He was like a lifeless being, incapable of thinking or seeing anything around him. He was surprised he didn’t fall or push anyone, skillfully dodging everyone around. He looked weird but clearly right now, it didn’t fucking matter, he needed to get to you. When he did, he couldn’t even speak, he simply grabbed your hand, pulling you towards him. He cradled your soft cheek, the warmth of your skin spreading against his palm.
His vision wasn’t blurry anymore, he could see very well, better than ever actually. He could also hear everything perfectly fine, most of everything being you and the sound of your heart beating, your breath speeding up or your blood rushing around your body. He could hear all of this vividly, all of you, alive and looking at him with that deadly smile of yours. He was crumbling, slowly sinking inside himself because of you. You were killing him, with your entire being and that he loved it. He’d never get enough if it.
"Fuck... Bunny, my bunny..."
He seemed to not give a flying fuck about the fact that they were outside, in public, in broad daylight and pulled you in for a desperate kiss. His lips covered yours in a matter of second, folding and molding around the shape of your mouth and sucking in the sweet taste of you. Shoving his tongue in your mouth, he held onto your jaw tight, forcing it open wide for him to invade you further.
You small hands were gripping on his shirt, trying to push him away slightly but failing miserably because you wanted him too. You always did anyways but you knew when was the time. The Peter kissing you right now, was scouring through your mouth, looking for you to fill his ears with those delicious sounds that only you could make. You knew what he wanted, he was moaning and groaning in your mouth and you could feel disapproving looks on your. You did what was best for you and your dignity, biting his tongue enough to hurt but not too much.
"F-Fuck ! Why ?! Need you bunny..." He whined, reaching towards your lips again but being stopped in his track.
"I know baby, but you can't just swallow my face in public... I promise I'll take care of you later."
When he groaned in displeasure, whining lowly before diving towards your lips again, you had to stop him dead in his track, laying a hand flat on his chest in a commending motion. He looked at you straight in the eyes and you noticed how far gone he was. It’s like he wasn’t there all together. He often got like that after sex but you a simple (not so simply, really) had him desperately needing you in the middle of the street. Something was clearly off but you would wait it out, maybe he would be back to normal in a few.
He was, in fact, not back to normal in a few. It actually got worst, way worse. By the end of the day, he felt like he was ready to pass out. His entire body was on fire, burning as if drenched in lava and he could barely move. He swung home because it would be faster but practically died hitting a few too many windows on the way. The moment he saw his apartment, he thanked his past self for keeping the window open and threw himself on his floor.
It felt cold and so comforting, he rolled himself around for as long as he could. Quickly, his long body covered his floor in heat and it became unbearable to deal with too. He threw his bag on his bed, completely ignoring the possible state of his laptop and other things. He let his cheek rest on the surface and let his body relax, feeling completely numb but a little better. The reoccurring memories of the day and the state he was in were playing in his mind. For the first time, you weren’t relief, you were the problem.
He had thought that his minor episode this morning, would be temporary and quickly dealt with. It was not. It increasingly got worst, his senses focusing entirely on you. He suffered through long hours of lectures, your scent sticking to his clothes and drowning him in need. He felt like you were everywhere on his, multiple versions of you clinging to his skin and whispering sweet and sultry words into his ear. He couldn’t feel you, skin hot and covered in this warm glow that broke him apart. He could barely see anything, the image of your sunkissed skin shining so bright he felt like he was floating around the sun. You were the sun to him anyways so it wasn’t too far from the truth.
It was like you were a siren, singing your best song to him, bringing him to his knees, ready to run away to the farthest corner of a forest and worship you for as long as you’d allow him near you. You were like an oasis in the hottest dessert there was, draining his life force. God, he was so fucking far gone, he could barely remember his name before yours.
“Pete ? You okay baby ?”
Jolting awake, he frantically looked around when your voice resonated in his head. He let out the neediest whine of pleasure mixed with happiness when he saw your gorgeous face come in view. There you were, looking down on him with worried eyes. He reached up, grazing his fingers on your cheek, nose and then lips softly. Parting them with his thumb, he shuddered when your breath hit his skin. You looked at him with sweet innocent eyes and he thought that would kill him but when you moaned through a whisper, practically inaudible to the average ear but not his, he jumped back, away from you.
He covered his face with his hands, muffling a scream that hid a desperate moan. What the actual fuck was going on with him ?! What was his fucking problem that he had to run away from you because touching your lips drove him crazy ?! He had to be mentally broken or something cause he felt his cock harden and violently twitch in his pants. Starting to breath heavily, he looked around his room for clothes to wear, he needed to change. Anything but fucking jeans honestly.
Reaching for them, he rips them away from his laundry basket with a hoodie to go with it before running to his bathroom and locking himself in. He let out a heavy breath, shivering in comfort at the feeling of the cold tiles under him. He delicately started to peel off his clothes, quickly coming to the realization that each time he brushed against his skin, he’d moan like a fucking idiot. He could feel your fucking scent on them and it’s like his clothes were begging to stick to his skin. He was going absolutely fucking crazy, last time this kind of shit happened, he’d been bitten by a radioactive spider specifically designed to give him superpowers. Maybe he had been bitten by another spider without noticing, that would be pretty logical considering the fact that the only thing he truly fully focused on here was you. Maybe the spider liked you as much as he did.
Once he’d finally managed to get rid of his clothes without moaning too loud, preventing you from hearing him, he sat on his floor, panting loudly, cheeks red and hips moving on their own. He could see the stain of his sensitive cock, dripping cum on the fabric of his boxers. Looking down towards the pulsating bulge, he could practically see your fingers wrapping around him and he instantly winced in both pain and pleasure at the thought. He cupped his thick girth and rubbed it against his warm palm, begging for it to go back down. He was moaning at each of the heavy rubs he’d leave on himself, your name sounding more and more like a plea than anything else. He was begging for you, cursing himself for not feeling so conflicted. He was ashamed of himself, red in embarrassment at his own actions but also feeling deprived and needy for more.
When he felt his hot cum spill out of his cock and cover his boxers, he let out a sigh of relief, eyes crossing at the wave of pleasure spreading through him. He let it all sink in, taking time to relax a little bit before going back out there.
“Peter ? You okay in there ? Do you need my help ?”
He snapped his head towards the door, his relaxation dissipating quickly and being replaced by his previous mood. He was back to square one, needy and pulsating in his pants like a fucking teenager, at the simple sound of your sweet, sweet, sweet angel like voice. You wanted to help, because you were that good, perfect even. A perfect, perfect girl for an imperfect boy who was being crushed under the weight of his heightened senses and the rough consequences they had on his sex drive.
You could help. You could save him even, oh that you could. You and those sweet lips of yours, you could help him greatly. You just needed to get on your knees and let him fuck your throat so hard, you’d feel your own vocal cords move against the tip of his cock. Or did he want to fuck that sweet velvety pussy of yours with his tongue ? Yes he did. He wanted to taste your insides, attach his tongue to your walls and engrave that honey taste in his head. He wanted to bury himself in you too, oh god he wanted that. He wanted to burn your feel on him, god he was ready to carve your name in his skin. It would heal but he wanted you wrapped around him, he wanted to be absorbed by you, completely nestled in your body, in your DNA.
He was fucking insane, completely off his rockers. He needed therapy and a shit load of medication clearly. Maybe a mental institution too, maybe that would fix him, if he could be fixed. If he wanted to be fixed. He was obsessed with you, his body craving your entire existence like an asthmatic would crave air. He was absolutely gone, lost in the ocean that you were, so wide and big and tempting. As anyone ever wanted to drown ? Because he did, he wanted to drown in you.
Quickly shuffling around to get rid of his boxers and slipping in the sweatpants, he opened the door to be faced by your worried face. He gave you his best smile (he looked absolutely fucking crazy) before swerving around you, trying to avoid touching you or breathing in your scent. He’d need to take extra precautions to not let you see through his desperation to fuck you.
As soon as he started his little scheme to appear normal in front of you, he was attacked by a new wave of arousal, heat burning him from the inside and jumping out of his body like a violent beast. Looking at you, smelling you, hearing you, all of this was tickling the salacious thoughts in his mind. They were bringing those images lf your naked body rubbing against his to life.
Come on Peter…
Don’t you want to play with me ? My pussy missed you so much.
Felt so empty without you and your cum Pete…
Please baby… Please, suffocate me… I want your cock in my throat…
Peter… Please love, look at my tits… All pretty and lonely, they need you…
I need you… Don’t you need me Peter ?
God, fuck… Yes he did ! Yes he needed you ! More than anything ! He couldn’t express the visceral need he had to scream than he needed you at the top of his lungs. He was ready to lose his voice and vocal cords to say that he needed you wrapped around him. He wanted to feel you all over, be in you skin, invade your every cell.
Thinking like a beast in heat, he couldn’t handle the additional feelings invading him when he noticed that he could feel your arousal. He didn’t know where it came from and honestly, he couldn’t care less. All he knew was that he was smelling the sweet scent of your leaking pussy and he was very close to jumping on you and feasting on your wet folds until he quenched his thirst. He was desperate, for release, he needed you to heal him, save him from his misery.
Rubbing his long body on the mattress, praying for a little friction to free him from his torture, he whined when his skin brushed against yours. Your exposed thighs, soft against the back of his hand, he could feel the heat of your body on his. That heat, he could recognize it anywhere, it was even frightening how he found himself seeking it. Burning hot like lava and turning his entire being into a pile of ash, you were like a volcano. That heat, he couldn’t get used to it, he was responsible for it, that lust pumping through his veins every time you touched you. You were needy for him but you could contain yourself. Now he couldn’t.
Laying his heavy head on your exposed thighs, he rubbed his nose on your flesh, inhaling the scent of your core and drinking it the aroma he could taste on his tongue. His mouth was watering at the thought of your drenched folds coating his lips and entire face. He wanted you to sit on his face, right now.
He distanced himself, practically falling off the bed and ripping his sweatshirt off before throwing it in a corner if the room. That was probably a stupid move on his part because he was now shirtless, erection in full view for you to see and fawn over. You always enjoyed the whole gray sweatpants thingy but never that much until Peter. With him it was a whole different story, no amount of boxers would be able to hide what he had to offer and clearly he opted for the no boxers alternative.
Biting your lip, you hoped he couldn’t see how drenched your panties were already. You were a terrible person maybe. Your boyfriend was in pain, suffering from an unknown illness and needed as much comfort as he could get but you still found time to drool over his barely covered body. You were, indeed, a terrible person.
Looking at him with an amused smile, you slid your hand in his hair, scratching his scalp and soothing his inner turmoil a little. He couldn’t understand what was going on and he didn’t feel like it right now, you could feel that. You knew he needed you but you didn’t want to press him, you wanted him to come to you. And seeing how touchy he was being, you knew you wouldn’t wait long. You jumped slightly when he violently ripped himself away from you to crawl to a corner in the room.
“Oh my fucking God ! Peter are you okay ?! Do you need me to call somebody ?! Maybe Gwen, she has medical or scientific expertise !” You blabbered, panicking at his sudden actions
“No ! Please no ! Do not call… Call anyone… I’m g-good…” He begged, eyes screwed shut and trying to peal his clothes off as if the were his skin.
He threw his head back, resting it against the wall and spreading his legs wide. He couldn’t move anymore, he was breathless, horny and exhausted. If he moved, he felt like he was in a burning shower the water sucking out every drop of water in his body. He was desperate now, or at least more than he was before. He couldn’t handle this sudden new development in his body. He didn’t care if it meant he was dying or something, he just wanted help.
You got closer to him, placing yourself between his legs and laying a hand on his thighs while the other cupped his cheek tenderly. You were worried, hell probably more than simply worried. He could feel it, and he could feel your throbbing cunt from where he was. It was as if your body was vibrating at a frequency that only him could feel and it was torturing him. You were like a siren screaming in his ears to tell him that you needed him to fuck you badly. He who found comfort in you most of the time was being tortured by you too at the moment. The irony of the situation was very unpleasant.
“Baby, please… Tell me what you need... I can’t stand watching you get all weird and sickly without being able to help… I’m not the best scientist but I got Google for that… Please let me help.” You pleaded with that deadly sweet voice. He was being physically suffocated by the honey that your voice was, drowned like a bee that got too close to Paradise.
Looking at you, his brain suddenly shut off completely, the fight against insanity lost miserably. He fought long and hard but clearly, this enemy was too strong, the enemy was you after all. He looked down at the prominent bulge showing through his sweats, if we could call this a bulge. He couldn’t distinctly see the shape of his girth through the fabric, practically begging to come out. He hissed, almost painfully, at the vibrations of his member, looking up to your sweet face in awe.
He was practically crying for help, anything to calm him down. He was conflicted, wanting you close but knowing that it would only make him feel worse. He retreated further in the corner, wrapping his body in his arms and blinking back the weird haze he was in. His breath was loud and short. It sounded strained and come out with difficulty, as if breathing made him suffer. And it did, every breath he took, carrying with it the memory of what you tasted like. He could feel your taste in his mouth when he breathed and it would rush down straight to his cock every time.
“P-Please… Please I can’t… I can’t do this a-anymore… I can’t stand it…” He cried softly. Your worry skyrocketed and you tried to get closer to hug him tight but he jerked, rejecting your hands on him. “I… I need… I need you to leave… Or to just… J-Just let me fuck you… I promise I’ll be good, and I’ll clean you up after but please… Choose for me…”
You looked at him with loving eyes, the worry dissipating and allowing you to nod slowly towards the option he was silently begging for you to pick. Letting his body move on its own, his large hands slid under the hem of your skirt, taking two handfuls of your ass and hoisting you up effortlessly. You yelped, your hands shooting up to his shoulders as he sat you on his lap, carefully positioning your core over the wet patch formed by the tip of his cock. He bit the inside of his mouth, keeping his own needy moans to himself as his started grinding against you.
“P-Pet-“ He was quick to shut you up, two of his fingers finding refuge in your hot mouth, pressing down on your tongue.
“Don’t… Don’t fucking say a word…” He groaned, looking attentively at your bodies moving in sync. “Fuck… Do… Do you have any idea of how much I wanted my cock stuffed in that pretty pussy of yours today…? I barely got though the fucking day, thinking I was going fucking crazy… Never been so fucking sensitive before, fuck…”
His free hand grabbed your waist, holding it tightly and pushing you down harder. He couldn’t feel the pulsating of your folds on his bulbous tip, body your centers, leaking and wiping over the other. He should’ve been ashamed by the wet patch on his joggers but he was too busy focusing on the thought of you riding him while he kept his mouth stuffed with your panties.
He groaned in pleasure, a little louder than he was already doing, when he felt your soft fingertips on his wrists, wrapping tight around it to pull your fingers out of your mouth. He looked up at your face and felt his body melt under your gaze, eyes soft and loving but also sharing pure lust and pleasure. He couldn’t see them try there hardest to not cross in pleasure, something you did that absolutely drive him crazy.
Whining into the palm of his hand, you licked the tip of his digits sensually before diving them low against your body. You ‘et go of his wrist to let him do what he wanted, simply lifting your skirt to show what he’d been truly looking for.
“Oh fuck…” He exhaled, looking down at you as if you’d shown him the Holy Grail. His fingers slid under the elastic of your panties slowly before ripping them off of your body in one singular motion. Caressing your exposed hips and your uncovered ass, his fingers dove down on your folds, sliding in between the flesh and stroking his fingers back and forth. You threw your head back in pleasure, his thumb rolling around your pulsating clit.
He was absolutely mesmerized, practically forgetting everything around him. His fingers were drinking in the sensation of your juices coating his fingers. His senses were on alert but not for danger, for more of you. The needed to feel you all over, to have you wrapped nicely around him, sucking out every drop of energy and possibly life even. He was ready to give his life force to you at this exact moment. Was he okay ? Probably not. Did he really care ? Absolutely not.
Raising you up once again, he threw you over his shoulder, inhaling the scent of your wetness coating your inner thighs. His fingers were quick to come play with your exposed mound, gathering your slick and licking it off of his fingers. He walked, painfully hard erection visible through his sweatpants still and ready to be tended to. That would need to wait, for now, Peter needed to do something first, he’d been thinking about it for too long to simply ignore it.
Laying you on the mattress, on your back, you watched attentively, finally able to fully see his face. He looked absolutely magnificent even when the exhaustion was clear on his features. His lips, red and plump, were parted, air coming out in heavy breaths while he tried to focus. His face was flushed, red and sweaty, he tried to calm himself down, you could feel it. He was battling with his needs.
When you reached up to him, he pulled you forward by the wrist, forcing your chest against his as he hungrily kissed you. Your lips tasting like sweet, fresh berries, he bit on your flesh and swallowed the surprised moans coming out of you. How could you not be surprised when the man you loved was practically swallowing your face, ripping the literal oxygen out of your lungs ? You couldn’t, not when he was acting as if the universe had deprived him of you.
His hand slid down your back, pushing you against his chest and pressing his lips further against yours. His tongue, warm and wet, was diving deep in your mouth, licking as far as he could reach and sucking in your delicious taste.
He was overwhelmed by the sensations he was feeling and the ones you were feeling. He could feel it all, everything was ten times worst than usual, everything was enhanced. His senses were being drowned by your intoxicating scent, your sweet taste, the soft feeling of your skin and the siren like sound of your voice. All of you was pushing him down a cliff, hell, he was jumping down himself, willingly and expecting the result eagerly.
“P-Peter… Peter wait… C-Can’t…” You moaned in his mouth, trying to pry him away from you, loosing air fast. He didn’t let up, taking your jaw in hand and keeping you close to him until he felt you truly loose air.
“Sorry…” He apologized without really meaning it. He was staring at your lips and probably wanted more of them but you were panting hard, trying to catch your breath in his arms.
Ignoring you, his kept himself busy by rubbing his nose against the veins of your neck. His nose, inhaled that specific smell that only you had, trying to engrave it into his senses.
Suddenly straightening himself, he swallowed hard, as if he was on the verge of tears. You observed his movements, your eyes doubling in size, when he ripped his sweatpants off of his own body and tossed the shredded fabric on the floor. You were so surprised, you couldn’t even pay attention to his throbbing cock, pulsating against his stomach. You didn’t know if you should’ve focused on that or the fact that the act in itself had you clenching your thighs desperately. You sometimes forgot how strong Peter was and all the things he could do to you if he wanted.
Feeling how aroused you just got at the display of physical strength, he gave you one of those dopey smile he gave when either tired or extremely horny. You loved it so much, you wanted to coo at him but he was quick to remind you of his true intentions. Grabbing your wrist, he brought your hand close to his girth and exhaled in pleasure, eyes rolling to the back of head when your fingers wrapped around him.
“Ugh… Fucking hell bunny… You’re killing me…” He whispered, voice breathless before you’d fully done anything.
You instantly knew what you had to do, his heavy shaft pulsating in your closed fist. You admired the shape of his cock, red and covered in past strings of cum, still leaking out of his tip. You could feel the blood rushing through it, the veins bulging out and vibrating on your skin. You looked up, meeting his dark eyes, telling you (more like begging or ordering you) to do something, anything. He would take anything from you.
You started stroking his cock, smiling with pride when he moaned your name loudly. It was strained, almost stuck in his throat, but he pushed it out at the feeling you’re your skin on his warm cock. He was finally reaching peace, getting closer to salvation at each of your moves. You got closer to him, still moving but changing pace to go faster, and laid your free hand flat again his chest. You felt his abs flex understand your fingers. He looked down on you, ignoring his hips as the started to fuck your fist nice and slow.
When you started pecking his exposed chest, he knew he would spend the rest of the night doing the countless obscene things he had in mind. He bit his lips, keeping in tears of pleasure that were threatening to spill out of his gorgeous brown eyes but letting the desperate moans come out without a care in the world.
He felt dizzy, from both pleasure and his eyes jumping between your hand on his dick and your lips on his chest. You were pecking high, living butterfly kisses on his collarbones before sliding lower on his torso. You were still looking up at him and he was slowly dying inside, feeling big load of cum about to burst out of his oversensitive cock.
“You okay baby… It’s okay… I’m here love, do what you want…” You muttered, your voice hitting his skin and traveling through his body at the speed light.
“Ah… Aahhh fuck… Please… Please I’m begging you… Please…” He didn’t know what he was begging for honestly but he just needed you to do something, anything. He was begging for anything from you, anything you could give he would take how of love and pure lust.
Holding the back of your nape, he caressed your nape tenderly, his hips still moving and fucking himself inside your closed fist. His moans echoed louder around the room, perfectly in sync with the movement of your wrist and the soft kisses you left on his skin.
Seeing his cum shoot out to cover parts of your face and your covered breast drove him even deeper down the hole of insanity he was sinking in. Vision so blurry he was certain that he would faint soon, he let loose, loud and lustful moan escaping his swollen lips. Both red like cherry, you looked up at him as he unconsciously kept moving his hips against your palm.
You felt it, he needed more and he wouldn’t need to tell you, his stiff and throbbing cock would do the job. But you were prevented from really doing anything or even thinking clearly about what you wanted to do to him. He took control fast by lifting you off the mattress and carrying you against his chest again. He took you place, sitting down on the bed and putting you on his lap.
He was moving with both control and pure instinct, looking like an animatronic, wired and programmed to work a certain way. He was indeed, working fast and eagerly, searching for the next target of his assault to your body. He was served with everything he craved the whole day and could barely think about where he wanted to start.
His dilemma was quickly resolved by the subtle moan that escaped your beautiful lips when your when your leaking cunt rubber against his veiny girth. Feeling the wetness coat him all over, he couldn’t help but drool shamelessly at the thought of having it in his mouth. Yeah, he wanted you to sit on his face still. So he laid on the covers and at your confused glare, he simply pulled you by the waist all the way to his face.
“Oh my fucking God ! Peter what the fuck are you doing ?” You exclaimed, worried that you’d suffocate him to death. He had super strength but still very much needed to breath.
You seemed reticent but did not move, keeping yourself above his face rather than sitting on it like he desired. When he tried to pull you all the way down, you glared at him, pushing his hands away from your body. Deciding against the rational part of him that refused to manhandle you, he let the primal need in him to have your sweet juices pooling all over his lips take over.
Grabbing your wrists forcefully in one hand, he wrapped his arm tight around your waist, forcing you to move at his will.
“Listen to me and listen to me well bunny.” He ordered, looking both controlled and wrecked. “I’ve spent the entire fucking day feeling everything you felt times fucking ten and not even you could calm me down. The only fucking thing I want right now is that sweet pussy of yours all over my mouth so either you sit on my fucking face or you run away as fast and far as you can before I actually start considering doing all the most disgusting and unsanitary things I have in mind.” He threatened, eyes big and dark, showing the absolute lack of restraint behind them.
You stared at him, completely in awe at the bluntness of his words. Peter gad always been pretty honest about the things he wanted to do to you, never ashamed to tell you how hard you made him on a regular. But here, he looked too fucking tired to even speak it, wanting to act rather than explain himself. This Peter would clearly do all the dirty things you wanted him to do more, the things he’d rarely try, too scared of hurting you.
He looked at you, unmoving but still holding you with a firm grip. He wasn’t going to move until you gave him an answer, or at least he thought he wouldn’t until you arched your back and tried to bite back a moan. Oh yeah, he was way past thinking clearly or asking for permission now. Now when your pussy was calling out for him.
In a few swift movements, you ended up fully sat on his handsome face, quickly losing the fear of crushing him when his wet tongue slithered between your folds. You threw your head back and arched your back once more, this time fully screaming your pleasure in the comfort of his room. Your hand grabbed pieces of his hand, pulling on it at each flick of his tongue. You could only shake over him, feeling jolts of electricity run through you when his breath hit your clit.
“Oooh ! P-Peter, fuck ! A-Aaahh… F-Fuck me !” You wailed, wiggling on him and quickly regretting it when it only made his tongue move deeper inside you.
You’d never expect for his breathing to do this kinds of things to you but here you were, moaning his name louder and louder, chanting it like a prayer even. His firm grip on your thighs made it all too much for you feeling the pad of his fingers burn through your skin. You would feel his hands for days, that was for sure. Even more when you knew he wasn’t anywhere near ready to let you go.
As the minutes passed, they quickly turned into hours. Hours sitting on your boyfriends face, fucking yourself on his tongue.
He’d kept his abuse constant, needing a little more each time you came. He was hungry for more, turning into a very distant version of himself, one that couldn’t control himself and his urges. His five senses were all pointing towards you, focused entirely on you and the pleasure he was giving and receiving from you. Feeling your full thighs around his face, tightening a little more each time he let his tongue wander towards your clit, he couldn’t keep himself from getting greedy. He tried to think but his mind was blank, only knowing your name and the different ways he could use to please you.
“F-Fuck ! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck ! Oh, fucking God, Peter !” You moaned, biting your lip hard enough to draw blood.
His face was red and had been red for a while now but it was also glistening under the lights of the room. He was messy and needy, letting your juices coat as much space as possible on his face. You scent was overwhelming, burying all there was around under you and your aroma. He was going to remember how you smelled for days, maybe weeks and if he was lucky, it would last for even a few months. He’d have in engraved in his brain if he could, he was already contemplating not showering to keep your sweet scent on him for as long as possible.
You were now completely bare, your naked body rubbing riding his mouth at the best of the capacities you had left. You were exhausted and your thighs had given up on supporting you a while ago. Trembling and tender, each time you tried to pull away to let him breath a little at least, he’d responded with a deep grunt and bit your inner thighs as a warning that you listen to diligently. You weren’t going to risk cumming from it once more, the first time violent enough for your clit to throb at the memories only.
One if your thighs had been free from his iron grip on it but your skin was left shaped like his hand for a few seconds before returning back to it’s normal state. When he looked up at you and saw your swaying breasts, he needed to see more. He ripped your blouse open and took it off your body before tossing it somewhere. He was about to do the same to your bra but you stopped him to take it off yourself, remembering how he’d ripped your panties and skirt off of you. Poor clothes, you liked them. They would be missed.
When your exposed tits came in view, he freed one of your legs to wrap his slander fingers around your soft and warm flesh. He palmed it vigorously, eyes still trained on you and watching each of your reactions attentively. You were crying his name in pleasure, grabbing his wrist when his thumb started twirling around the pointing bud. He couldn’t help but need more. He’d never been this greedy before and each record he would hit would be topped a few minutes later.
He sucked and swallowed your slick, feeling it run down his throat and allowing him to fill his stomach with you and you only. You were the only meal he needed, the only one he wanted. He was reminded of that fact a little more each time you came hard on his face, the beautiful memory of you squirting just as destructive for him.
“P-Pete ! Baby, p-please… Please just… J-Just aaah ! Ah, fuck, oh fuck ! Oh, God, please ! Please ! P-Peter, peter ! Oh fuck, Peter !”
He smiled under you, his name never sounded better, never sounded sweeter. He was groaning and grunting into your wet mound, letting your folds quiver on his mouth, his tongue still gathering your juices with enthusiasm. He was only made to pleasure you at the moment, completely disregarding his aching cock. He couldn’t even feel it at this point. He was still throbbing violently and he was redder than before. The veins around him were pulsating more than even, strings of cum leaking out if his tip.
He wasn’t touching himself and you couldn’t touch him either but he was still cumming as much as his body could, white creamy ropes coating his chest and your lower back to drip over your ass. He could see it in the mirror in front of the bed. He had stopped counting the amount of times you came or the amount of time he did. He simply let it happen, moaning desperately in your cunt each time. His body had started to act on its own, sensitive and searching for more raw pleasure to feast on.
Tears of overstimulation were pooling out of your eyes, silently crying as he moved your hips on his own to ride his face, your eyes crossed and rolled to the back of your head. You were being tortured, his soft lips, wrapping around your clit and sucking onto it again as he felt you violently shake, sign of another orgasm coming fast.
“Oh god, oh god, oh god, o-oh fuck ! Oh, no, please, please, please, please ! P-Please I can’t take it !” You begged loudly, you wouldn’t be able to take another orgasm. You knew you wouldn’t, your poor body wouldn’t be able to take it.
You were crying out for it to not happen but your body was moving in the other direction, hips jerking and thrusting yourself on his tongue. You couldn’t take more but he wasn’t asking for permission anymore, he needed it, craved it desperately. Your cum all over his face, he would get it. And he did. You bounced on his tongue, letting it twirl inside your walls and suddenly be covered by a waterfall of your wetness.
“A-Ah ! Fu- Oh god, fuck ! A-Ahn Peter ! Peter, Peter, Peter, Peter, Peter !” You sung, loud enough for anyone who paid attention to hear.
He did, he paid attention and his cock couldn’t take more of this, you broken voice crying out his name in both pleasure and sensual agony. You came hard and fast, and so did he, hot cum shooting out oh his sensitive head and falling on your back. The vision of your back covered in him did something to his brain, he had a new interest, finally.
Your body fell limp in his arms, head bobbing around as if you were unconscious and you couldn’t support yourself anymore, you were fully broken now. Poor bunny, he wasn’t done with you. He needed more, but the little voice in him that could still think things through promised to take good care of you for the next days. That was if he was finally calmed down and if you allowed him to touch you.
You leaned back, supporting yourself on his chest and slowly cried at how wrecked you were. You’d made fun of him internally earlier and now you were probably worse than him. You whimpered softly when his groans his your sensitive center. When his hands grabbed your waist, you were scared that he wasn’t done eating you out, you couldn’t take more honestly. You weren’t even sure that you wanted him to fuck you now. Maybe, you didn’t know. Your brain was too scrambled to think about it.
Suddenly laid on your back, your boyfriend wrapped your arms around his neck as he kissed your forehead, cheeks and nose. His lips lingered on you and brought a wave of warmth all through your body. You felt comfort again, peace and quiet.
Kissing the side of your face, his current mission was simply to call you down a little before stuffing himself deep inside you. He was still too out of it to function properly, his body still running purely on instinct. He simply did what his oversensitive senses told him. They told him you needed to be calmed a little, and that’s exactly what he would do.
He was fast to feel a wave of need take over in his mind. Brought at a crossroads, he had the choice between ruining your sweet cunt again and probably be banned from touching you in the future, or lock himself in the bathroom and try and call his aching member while you slept. Rational Peter would’ve chosen A while also considering B, because he was a considerate boyfriend. Now, Irrational Peter was an animal clearly, incapable of pushing his urges away and thinking things through. He was choosing A without a second thought. He’d make it up to you however you desired.
His lips wandered lower, finding your breasts and taking one of your nipples between his teeth while your other breast was vigorously squeezed by his other hand. Drunk on the feeling of your warm flesh in his mouth, he sucked long and hard, his tongue rolling around the sensitive bud before letting go in a wet sound and turning towards the other. This time, he only used his mouth, ha ds wandering lower to palm the flesh of your ass and thighs. He was close to cumming again, just from the things he was doing to you and he wanted to make sure that make you cum with him.
Standing straight, he grabbed the back of your thighs and rubbed his erected girth on your swollen clit. Your cries of pleasure erupted again, only fulling his thirst for whatever you had to give. Yeah, we already established that he was greedy.
“P-Peter please… N-No… No more edging… Please baby, I-I… I promise I’ll be good... Please... No more ! Please, d-don’t tease me no more !” You sobbed softly, clawing at his lower stomach, to pull him forward but also push him backwards.
Looking down at his own cock, he watched it drip droplets of cum on your folds, he was hypnotized by the vision. He backed up slowly, still holding your thighs apart and positioned himself at your entrance. You whined and squirmed beneath him, trying to get him inside as soon as possible. He chuckled lightly at your eagerness before thrusting deep inside you in one rough move.
He let out a groan, mouth falling open and eyes crossing as they rolled to the back of his head. He was feeling everything all at once, close to cumming only from this. He tried to get his thoughts together but he couldn’t, it was so hard, you felt so good. So, so, so good. He was keeping tears of pleasure to himself, cock so sensitive, he felt like it would explode. He lowered his face and his eyes juggled between your face and your pussy, swallowing him whole and ripping away all he had. Yeah, take it all, take everything from him.
Backing up, he repeated the motion, stretching your insides and engraving the feeling of his pulsating veins on your warm velvety walls. His pace only got quicker from there, the sounds of your cries of pleasure only matched by the sound of his skin slapping against the back of your thighs. The sensation was burning your sensitive body, still tender from the grip he’d kept on your flesh only minutes ago.
Your vision was unfocused, eyes going everywhere frantically, searching for something to focus on, to keep you steady. You couldn’t look at him, not now, not when you were so weak to his every move. Everything he did to you was piling up, all the emotions and sensations crumbling on you all at once. You could barely process one that the next was erupting inside you. You knew that if you looked at him, his expression would only make it worst.
You always loved how he looked when he was fucking you but it was ten times more arousing for you when he was overwhelmed, which was practically all the time. He’d always groan your name louder and louder, big brown eyes drowning you both in a pool of lust. You couldn’t even deal with the memory of his face.
“F-Fuck… You feel this bunny ? My fat cock… It’s spreading you so wide… Bet you can feel it all the way in your tummy…” He groaned, leaning forward and pecking your puckered lips.
You were always needy for his kisses and he was always glad to give you as many as you wanted. He was yours to play with, and you always did so much for him, he would never refuse you anything, out of gratitude, boundless loyalty and love. He chuckled at the thoughts he was having. He could still find it in him to be a sap, even when his brain could barely process daily words or actions at the moment. Love would do that to you.
His body got closer to you, lowering himself on you and plowing deeper and harder in your tight heat, living for the various ways you’d scream his name.
“P-Peter ! Oh, oh my… Oh fuck, more ! Peter, more please more baby ! More ! Peter please !” You sobbed into his ear when he nestled his head in the crook of your neck to bite your collarbones hard enough to leave a mark.
He was close, dangerously close. He was actually surprised he managed to hold out for that long, and just as surprised that you did the same. Working himself inside you, he started sucking on your skin and biting it all over, one of his hands letting go of your thigh and placing itself on your stomach to press your belly. He could feel the tip lf his cock violently poking through.
Pushing your legs on your chest, the change of angle gave him access to the perfect spot inside you, the one that would have the neighbors complaining despite the diy soundproof padding of his apartment. He would probably need to invest on a new bedframe too, the one he owned currently, threatening to split in too as his rough hip thrust made the bed shake and slam on the wall. Lucky him, he was holding you, if he’d been holding the head if the bed, he would’ve ripped it apart himself.
“Oh god, oh, god, oh Peter, God ! Please, I’m s-so, so fucking close oh please !” You begged, tears spilling all over your flushed cheeks.
“F-Fuck… Bunny, please, give it to me… Come on bunny, one more… Just one more…”
Your high came surprisingly fast, surprising the both of you and raining over you in a sweet shower of pleasure. You arched your back, biting one of the most obscene noises you’ve ever made. You gripped on the bedsheets, ripping them apart too in the process. You’d barely processed your own orgasm that the man above you followed quickly after, filling you up with him cum, warm and thick, coating your walls and invading your entire being.
You whimpered, breathing with difficulty and trying to gather yourself. You couldn’t, not when he was still holding you and still going. You looked at him as if he’d grown a new set of arms and three heads. He attempted leaned down, kissing the side lf your jaw and chuckling in your ear when you whined in displeasure.
“Sorry baby… I’ll take good care of you, I promise…”
“I… I hate you…” You sobbed silently. Yeah, you should probably cancel your plans for the rest of the weekend.
Many hours later, you didn’t understand how you were still standing, or in this case, kneeling. Holding yourself on all fours, your body was rocking back and forth, at the rhythm of his thrust inside you. You could do it anymore, you couldn’t take more, nothing in this world could take this much, human or not. This man was insane, this was evident now.
You would need to make a run to the pharmacy for the morning after pill. Your birth control could definitely not take the amount of cum he’d fucked in you, and you loved him but neither of you were ready for a baby, even if you enjoyed the thought of having one and the process too.
The sheets were ruined, cum and drool all over them, adding to the many holes you both tore in the fabric. No washing could save them either, he’d get new ones and hopefully they would get treated better.
Peter was probably just as wrecked as you but clearly not exhausted in the slightest and definitely not bothered by the state if his body. His skin was covered in various marks that could’ve been given by some kind of enemy he fought in his red and blue costume. You’d given him these marks, biting on the skin of his collarbones, his jaw, his ear, his shoulders and honestly anywhere you could reach. He’d let you mark him however you pleased, a small price to pay for what he did to you. Even the bloody lacerations on his back were definitely worth it to him.
He felt a little guilty but never enough to stop, not when you sounded so good moaning his name. Nothing could get him down that high he’d been stuck in the entire day. He tried to calm himself down at times but nothing would be enough, nothing would quench his thirst for you and your body.
Gripping on your hip and slamming his cock deep in you, your ass bouncing on his lower stomach, he could feel himself cumming once more. He watched you reach forward, as if trying to run away, you’d done it a few times already and he pulled you back by the ankles each time. Your face fell, burying itself in what was left of the sheets and bite into them hard, saliva soaking them a little more when your mouth fell open and a scream hit the mattress.
“Good… Good girl, just one left… Only one left and I'm letting you rest baby…” He groaned, leaning over your back and kissing your nape tenderly.
“Aaaahhh… N-No… C-Can’t… N-Not anymore…” You muttered, voice broken and incapable of thinking about coherent words to moan.
His balls slapped against your folds, the sound of your wetness and his cum vibrating in his sensitive eardrums. He could still hear and feel it all, his senses pushed to the maximum of their capacities and suddenly going completely silent. He reached forward too, fingers grazing the soft skin of your arm to intertwine with yours and hold your hand tightly. His free hand wrapped around your middle, pulling you towards him. You soon both came, just as hard as you’d previously did, both your juices spilling out of your sensitive hole.
Your moans and his grunts quickly turned into loud sounds of breathing, your heavy breathing resonating in the room. He leaned his head on the back of yours, feeling a sense of calm and peace he’d craved for a long while. He was finally feeling better, all calm and not as overwhelmed as he had been previously.
A suddenly ray of light caught both your attention, your heads snapping towards the window. Your eyes widened as you saw the sun rise and peak through the window. You had fucked the whole night. The entire night, you had been turned over and over, your body stripped bare and abused non stop. The whole night. You sobbed in desperation and disappointment too. You didn’t really know why you were disappointed but you were, probably at the lack of self control. You boyfriend, on the other hand, was keeping in a laugh he knew would get him in trouble.
“I’m sorry… So sorry bunny… I’m so, so, so sorry… I promise, I’m sorry…” He muttered, kissing your neck tenderly.
You knew he only meant it partially, never truly sorry for the things he did to you. He loved how wrecked he made you and loved how dumb you got for him, he would get just as stupid for you. In thus situation, he’d been stupid horny from the beginning.
You both fell to the side, facing the window and the rising new day. You were starting to feel the exhaustion fall over you all at once and so was he. He yawned and you did the same, nuzzling your face in the pillows. His hand rested on your stomach, caressing it slowly and trying to massage your aching parts. He pecked your cheek tenderly, smiling to himself at how great of a girlfriend you were. Finally, he was calm again, after practically breaking your body, he was okay.
You would probably put him on a sex ban for the foreseeable future and it would be deserved. Now he understood why you were the one calming him down when overwhelmed by the world : you were the one with the common sense. When the spider parts became too much to handle, you’d handle it for him.
“Pete ?” You called out after a few minutes of silence.
“You feelin’ better ?” You asked softly, still looking out for him by being as quiet as possible.
He exhaled in your neck, feeling his heart thump in his chest. He was so in love for you, he could barely think. You were genuinely the best, still carrying about his wellbeing when you were hanging on the last ropes on consciousness. He raised himself slightly to bed himself forward and kiss your lips.
“I’m fine bunny… I might just need to do a few researches in my dad’s stuff, we wouldn’t want this whole thing to happen again, would we ?” He chuckled lightly, voice deep and resonating.
“No thank you. I’ll take the running away option next time.” You responded, side eyeing him. You loved him but absolutely not, never again (or probably at least once, it wasn’t that bad).
For the rest of the day, you caught up on sleep, still attached together and when he woke up, he found his father’s researches, discovering the cases of heats that spiders would go through, specifically the kind that bit him. Turns out, when location a pray to mate with, they get overwhelmed by a the sensations felt by the other, feeding of this connection to know exactly what to do. His already sensitive senses turned towards you only and seeking to please you.
Good to know, at least he knew that next time, he should read the entirety of his father’s researches instead lf skimming through them. Luckily, Peter was a fast learner. And he had the heightened senses to help.
in your arms || p.p
summary: you are sick and take a day off to get better, at least...that's what you think until your husband, peter gets back home.
word count: 4k
genre: established relationship, fluff, a little suggestive, peter being peter 🕸️
note: I've been last to post twice this week... um anyways, thank you for reading everything I've post this week !! I've got one more after this one. after that, I'm going to be super busy watching stranger things 😚 by the way this one shot is completely rewritten and I changed a few things. I hope you like it 💓
“Y/N?” He calls out to you, his house keys jingle inside the eerily quiet apartment. The living room is dark, devoid of the lights except for the city lights twinkling on the other side of the window, though they were hardly visible in between the slits of the curtains. Are you home? Peter knows you didn't go to work today. He called in sick for you. Maybe you were asleep. He hasn't heard from you since before he left work. “Babe?” He tries again. “I ordered pizza for us while I was at work.”
He shuts the front door shut, shrugging off his overcoat, carelessly flinging it on the couch. He slips off his gloves, reaching up to rub his pounding temple to lessen the ache but his efforts are futile. “I know you probably don't feel well enough to cook,” he sniffles, toeing off his shoes, “and I think I definitely caught whatever you have so…
He drops his keys in the bowl sitting on top of the coffee table. Coughing into his elbow, he pads down the hallway, while his hand clutches his aching chest. He is 100% sure he caught your cold. He should not have kissed you goodbye this morning…but he doesn't regret it. At least, now he gets to cuddle with you, hold you and just…be with you. After a long day, all he needs is you.
He frowns when a realisation sets in. How you didn't greet him. He doesn't expect you to, but he was looking forward to it. To get his fill of kisses and hugs after a long, exhausting day. It's a need. But you caught a cold, you've been sick for the past couple days. Today he finally put his foot down and asked you to stay home. He had to, considering he watched you throw up every morning for the past week. You took a day to rest, he doesn't mind if you're sleeping instead of waiting to kiss him by the door the second he gets home.
Peter's frown deepens when he catches a glimpse of you nestled under layers of blankets in the bedroom, curled up under a pile of pillows on his side of the bed. He shuts the door behind him as he steps in, “is pizza okay?” He asks. “I can cook if you want…”
“S'fine,” and there you are, underneath the pile of blankets, struggling to poke your head out.
A weak, sleepy smile, “you're home.”
He mirrors your smile, eyes crinkling. You look up at him blearily, stretching your arms out, awaiting a hug as he walks over to you. He reaches for your forehead, trying to guess your temperature, and you groan in annoyance.
“You're okay.” Peter pats your head with a satisfied grin, “good girl.” He retracts his hand, but hesitates before reaching for you again, his fingers slips down the side of your face, pressing his warm skin against yours and you lean into his touch, eyes fluttering shut at the relief and satisfaction of having him close to you at last. “You rested like I asked?”
You nod, a giggle bubbling in your throat, “yes, sir.”
“Good, good,” he hums, holding your face in his palm, his thumb brushing against your skin, “want me to cook something for you, baby?”
“Aren't you tired?” You frown. “Stay with me, s'all I want.” He smiles.
You struggle to reach for him, “c'mere.” He kneels down, leaning in to plant a featherlight kiss on the top of your nose, eliciting a giggle out of you. You, unfortunately notice the roseate hues on his skin. Your brows furrow, “are you okay?” He sniffles as he nods to reassure you, wiping his nose with his sleeve. Narrowing your gaze at him, you ask, “You caught a cold, didn't you?”
“No.” Peter says, appalled. “I'm okay–” He crinkles his nose, eyes squeezing shut, sneezing into his elbow. He looks up with a sheepish smile, “...maybe not.”
You throw your head back laughing like a little kid, “you big baby.”
He can't help but crack a smile.
You reach for the pile of blankets over you, struggling to pull them aside. You beckon him over to lay down with you. “Baby…” he hesitates, but you whine, curling your fingers around his collar, and pulling him to you. He laughs as he catches himself before he crushes you under his weight. “I will make something for you, okay? You haven't eaten much today, now that I think about it a pizza might upset your stomach more, sweetheart.”
You roll your eyes. Peter has been fussing over you all day. Calling you a million times while he was at work just to ask did you eat? What did you have for lunch? Is your temperature down? Do you need me to come home early? Did you take your meds? Again and again until he is satisfied with your answers.
In the morning you rushed to the bathroom when you were nauseated, and he was halfway through putting on his shoes, ready to take you to the hospital. You tried to reassure him that it may be a stomach bug but he can't help but worry about you.
You somehow managed to convince him to go to work but his calls…they didn't stop. In his defence, he wanted to make sure his wife was okay.
“My God,” you scoff, “would you shut up? I don't need you to cook for me, okay? Lay down.” You instruct him. “C'mon, lay down right here.”
“Y/N…” He whines. He wants to take care of you. You've always babied him whenever he got sick, but he rarely got the chance to do the same for you, considering your immune system is made of steel. You getting sick? It's a rare occurrence. And an opportunity he is not going to pass up.
But the way your fingers caresses his face oh so sorry, holding him with such tenderness. He leans into your touch, and it makes him weak in the knees. He doesn't know how long he can hold himself up. His eyes and fluttering shut, and a breathy sigh of content leaves his lips. His shoulder slump, letting the worries he's been carrying all day disappear (but only for a little while.)
He completely melts into your touch. You giggle, “there you go.”
He lets you pull him in.
You angle your neck up to press a kiss to his lips.
He smiles against your lips, “love you.” He crawls over to you, his hand blindly reaching for your waist. He hums as you giggle when he lodges his knee in between your legs, snuggling closer and closer until the gap between the two bodies disappears.
“Love you, too.” You kiss his hair.
He beams at you.
He crawls into bed, his eyes fluttering shut as he presses his body against you, seeking your warmth after the cold walk home. You pull at the blankets, covering him and he mumbles a sweet thank you against your ears, pressing a soft kiss on your cheek. He lays his head on your chest, his body sprawled beside you, making sure he isn't putting much of his weight on you.
“Petey?” You whisper, and your lips drop a feather-light kisse on the crown of his head. He tucks his face under your chin, nuzzling against your collarbone. His cheek is squished against your chest, the scratchy material of your sweater irritating his skin but he couldn’t care less.
He hums, stretching out his aching legs and tangling them with yours. He pushes his knee in between your thighs, the material of his jeans rubbing against your bare legs. He pushes his hand down, tracing the skin of your stomach innocently, his fingers dipping down to play with the strings of your shorts as you wrap your leg around his waist, shuffling closer to him.
He leans up, propping himself up on his elbow to press soft kisses on your lips as you giggle, too loved up to push him away, to remind him that you can be contagious, you simply let him have his fill.
“Feeling better?” You croon, while your nails scratching his scalp lightly and he whimpers, his fingers fiddling with your wedding ring. His thumb swips over the cool platinum band, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck.
“Hmph.” He rubs his face on your chest, kissing your collarbone as he yawns, letting go off your hand. “Do you feel better?”
“A little.” You respond, licking your chapped lips as his hands roam over your bare thighs, pulling you to him.
Peter smiles in response, and a comfortable silence envelopes the room. His soft breathing calms you. He perks up when you shift closer to him, and a pain pricks in his ears, his senses going in overdrive in an instant, almost like your movement is the cause of it all. And it takes him a while to re-adjust to his surrounding; he picks up on it. A heartbeat. He shakes it off, thinking it to be yet another rat in the apartment, after all it's New York. He is used to it.
But the heartbeat is different, and it doesn't match up to anything he has heard before. It's louder than a pest, but it's too vulnerable, too fragile to be of a human's.
He quickly pushes himself up, eyes wide, “is someone in the apartment?
You sit up, “um, no.”
You're barely registering his words but he is already up on his feet, reaching for the baseball bat under the bat that you keep for yourself, like he will need one.
“Peter,” you say, shrugging the blankets off you, following him as he marches towards the door, it's probably nothing. You want to say, but you don't. He knows better. Peter can sense it. As the realisation sets in, the fear starts to crawl up. “Peter.” You say. But this time it's unsure, scared.
He puts a hand in front of you, opening the door, the bat clutched in his hand, “I hear a heartbeat.”
“Maybe it's a rat.” You say, trying to ease his worries, and yours.
“It's not.” He replies firmly, stepping inside the living room.
“Maybe the neighbour's cat wandered in again.” You say, “I've been in my room all day, I may have missed him when he came in.”
“It's not--” He turns to look at you, agitated. “It's not a cat.”
You click your tongue, “then what is it?”
It's a small one bedroom apartment that you have been trying to move out of for a while now. He has already checked the living room, if there actually is someone here, you can probably spot them without much effort. But Peter being Peter, starts checking the lower cabinets in the kitchen, growing more and more frustrated by each second.
He stops at your question, “I don't...I don't know.”
You roll your eyes, “its probably nothing, the overwork is finally getting to you.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He says absentmindedly, shutting the last cabinet shut with a loud thud.
You start to walk back to the bedroom, “just come back when you're satisfied.”
“Can you get me my phone?” He calls out to you, the heartbeat is fainting and god, he can't think straight. The fact that he cannot identify what it is, is driving him up the wall. Maybe KAREN can be of any help.
You strut out of the bedroom, handing him his phone. “You really need to take care of yourself.” You say, pressing a kiss to his lips. “I'm serious, I'm worried about you.”
“I will, I will.” He kisses you back. “You should go rest while I--”
It's loud again. It's loud only when you're here.
“Mhmm.” You say, walking backwards with a cheeky grin on your face, “come to bed early, I think I know how to get you to relax.”
And the sound fades as you move away.
Just as you're about to turn away from him, he calls out to you. “C'mere.”
You giggle, starting to walk towards him, “I see, you're ready to relax.” You wrap your arms, around his neck, but you seem to miss his concentrated expression, “I thought you'd waste another couple hours being weird like you normally do, but today just my words got you all--”
“Walk back.” He says.
You're taken aback, “what?”
“Walk back to the bedroom.” He says, again.
Your excitement disintegrates and you roll your eyes, “no, you don't want to relax, now you're just involving me in your weirdness.”
You walk back with a disgruntled expression, “sometimes, you should just be a normal dude and put sex before your science experiments.” You heave a sigh of annoyance as you stand at the bedroom door, hands on your waist. “Is this it?”
He watches you, eyes narrowing as he tries to figure it out. He can hear your heartbeat loud and clear, he knows it by heart. But the other heartbeat, that you seem to... carry with yourself... Peter's eyes grow wide as he traces your figure--It clicks.
You have been sick for days, at least he thinks you are. You have been throwing up all morning for the past couple of days, eating weird combinations of food that you despised just not too long ago. He didn't give it much thought but the heartbeat--
It is very, very faint. He can hear yours. He can hear his.
And now, he can also hear the third heart beat--How did he not pick up on it before?
Tears blur his vision. He instinctively reaches up to wipe his wet eyes as he let out an unexpected gasp, struggling to control his sniffles. He watches your annoyed expression morph into a frown, a worried one. But before you can get a word out, he crosses the distance.
He gets on his knees, hugging your stomach.
You are pregnant. He is going to be a dad. And you are going to be a mom.
“Pete--Peter? Peter?” You shriek in alarm, eyes wide. You pry at his arms hugging your belly, “what--what's wrong? Peter?!”
“Baby.” He cries out, hugging you to him, his fingers curling around your sweater, “baby, there's a baby.”
“Pete...” You gulp, delicately pulling at his hair to tip his head over and look at his face, “you're not making any sense! What's wrong?”
Peter puffs out a laugh, letting go off you to wipe his tears. He laughs at the irony. He knows before you, the mother. He sits back on his heels, his large hand over your belly as he speaks, “there's a baby, there's a baby in here.”
Your eyes go wide, “in this apartment? Is that the heartbeat you were going crazy over?”
He laughs again. He can't get himself to get angry or frustrated, he's too happy. “Y/n.” Peter taps your belly, “in here, the baby's in here.”
You freeze, your head barely glancing down at his hand.
“I can hear the heartbeat.” Peter whispers to fill in the silence. He looks up at you, worried that maybe he shouldn't have told you this way... maybe he should've waited for you to find out on your own... maybe you are not ready... maybe you're not happy... maybe you don't want this now... or ever... maybe--
Your knees buckle but he catches you before you fall, sitting in between his lap on the cold tiled ground. “I'm... I'm pregnant?” You look at him.
You puff out a humourless laugh, “oh my god,” you throw your head back, “oh my god. I can't believe this.”
According to what he's watched in movies + read in books, it's not a usual reaction.
“Hey,” he offers weakly, “if you're not ready, it's cool... you can--we can--”
“I can't have anything normal, can I?” You look at him accusingly, “do you know what most people do? They miss their periods, have a breakdown, go out to buy a pregnancy test, use it and find out if they're pregnant or not. But in my case... in my case my husband tells me that I'm pregnant because he already heard the baby's heart beat. Couldn't you wait?”
“You know I get excited.” He pouts. “I went around telling everyone that we got engaged.”
“Including the NYPD while you were out as Spider-man.” You remind him.
“Including the NYPD while I was out as Spider-man." He agrees.
“Are you happy?” He asks after a couple beats of silence.
“Yes,” you throw your arms around his neck, “I can't wait to have not one but two creepy crawlies on my ceiling.”
“Hey!” He scolds, “you better hope the kid doesn't get my powers.”
“Or your ears.” You giggle.
“You said you loved my ears!” He feigns an offended expression but it soon melts into a smile as you continue to giggle.
“I do,” you smile, reaching for his ears, “I do, I do.”
Peter laughs along with you, wiping the stray tear away from your cheeks. You crawl into his lap, pressing your nose against his red one, the apples of his cheeks rosy from the cold. You giggle again, capturing his lips into a kiss but he pulls away, a smile intact of his face.
“I can’t believe it worked.” Peter mutters in awe, unable to retract his hands from your belly.
“What?” You arch a brow at him.
“The thing I did.” He looks at you, a smug smile taking a hold of his features. “You know the thing where I—where I kept my fingers inside you after…to keep it all inside.”
hope you liked it !! reblogs and feedback are appreciated! masterlist + taglist is in my bio!
permanent taglist: @peterficrecs @runawaywithmyghost @holland-styles @mymarvelmasterlistblog @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @peter-parkers-gf @lilmschild @kayasholland @prettyboykaspbrak @lowkey-holland @haroldpotterson @usergarfields @aqtkookie @ginasellsbooks @haileygarciasunshine @aayaissaa @also-fangirlinsweden @decafcoffew @perfect-peter @prettysbliss @astrobub @alltoogay @prancerrparkerr @tanakaslastbraincell @xoxabs88xox @levylovegood @inas-thing @peterparkoure @crybabyddl @parkeromanoff @jenoslov @imobsessedzs @black-rose-29 @yeetzel @kassey @ericareyesmylove @avengers-hamiltrash @queen-of-no1 @helpimhavingacry-sis
peter parker taglist:@vendettaparker @justapurrcat [ @saturnpeter ] [ @httphollands ] @namoreno @rqmanoff @agirlwithotherideas @bumblebuzz @clara-licht @buckys-little-hoe @ascybous @blankspaceblankday [ @voidmalfoy ] @caitlynmarty @spideyspeaches @tomsirishgirlx [ @nina-drinks-tea23 ] @y-napotat @white-wolf1940 @mathletemadison @letsfly-andbe-free [ @pastelbabygirl19 ] @nearlydanger9 @ladykxxx08 @angelreyesisdaddy04 [ @xdarknessinlightx ] @itscaminow @alina02 @andreagf956 @iconicjk @adayasgeorgia @simp-for-fictional-people @onceuponameli @bab-ilicious @nocturnalms @couuuchpotatoo @petesrparker @chewymoustachio @angeliquekalampoka @hallecarey1 @thehumanistsdiary @disaster-rose @sarahfortin6201 @lauramacch @hahahalolthx @sophi54 @parkerpeter24 [ @flashoe ] @hawkscobra @ouralcohol @alice-solo @turtletaylor98 @kitk4400 @mischeifparker @biancamannoo @rottenstyx @shiptheship
what are your thoughts on height difference Peter, like reader who’s like 5’1 and Peter in his 6’whatever glory
As a 5'0 person marrying a 6'0 foot man....I enjoyed this
Peter loves it. He loves that you don't even come up to his chin.
He loves that he can easily give you forehead kisses, because he doesn't need to squat, he can just lean in
But the man will squat to kiss you. And if he doesn't feel like squatting, he'll just pick you up
Which he does all the time, because with your height and his super strength, it's really easy
Speaking of picking things up, he also loves getting stuff for you that's too high up
In fact, it's probably how y'all met
He thinks your height (or lack of) is so cute
Calls you "bean"
Some NSFW thots underneath
Peter loves to manhandle you. Again, your height and his strength make it very easy
Changing positions is real easy
He has 100% grabbed you by the ankles and pulled you to the edge of the bed to fuck you or eat you out
He also will 100% throw you over his shoulder and take you to the bedroom when he's dropped multiple hints he wants to fuck you and he's tired of waiting
Pinning you to the wall is so much fun for Peter
Because he can just look down at you and smirk as you stare up at him all wide-eyed
What I'm saying is you're not the only one with a size kink
Tattoo artist!Peter getting all close to you when you’re trying to find the right placement for your tattoo. Like with the drawing, holding it up to your skin, looking in the mirror. Do you know what I mean? Because I feel like every time I get a tattoo, that’s always such a like “oh, wow, hi! Your cheek is basically pressed up against mine!”
(Also I just got a new tattoo yesterday. Yes that is 100% the reason why this is the request my brain could come up with)
today is multiverse monday! send me any au you can think of :)
ngl i do not know what you mean i am the most sheltered little bitch the closest i've ever come to a tattoo place was walking past one in nyc - i definitely want some and have designs picked out and everything but oh boy are you overestimating my life experiences
"There?" Peter's hands pressed the drawing of your tattoo design into your skin, surveying the placement.
"Yeah," You managed to speak without your voice shaking, rather proud of yourself for the achievement, "That's exactly where I wanted it."
"Perfect." Peter smiled up at you from where he was hunched over your torso, his gloves brushing tantalizingly against your inner thigh as he removed the design, "I think it'll look amazing on you."
— SECRETS AND SKATEPARKS.
pairing: tasm!peter parker x reader
summary: you have a sneaking suspicion about your best friend and will apparently go to any lengths to prove yourself right.
warnings: mentions of violence/bruises, kissing, basically just a bunch of pg13 fluff, friends to lovers au.
author’s note: very much enjoying the andrew garfield spiderman love recently (don’t know where you all were 9 years ago but that’s not my business) so here’s a fic for my favourite spidey! i don’t think i’ve written for marvel in over a year and my writing is kinda rusty, but enjoy nonetheless!! ♡
“I wonder what Spider-Man looks like,” you absentmindedly mumble, scribbling down the answer to the Calculus question you were working on.
This piques your best friend Peter’s interest and his gaze quickly shoots from his own homework to you. “What, why? Wh-why does that, uh, matter?”
“No, I’m just saying, y’know?” You shrug, not thinking anything of it until you catch his expression. His head is tilted in confusion and he resembles a lost puppy with curiosity painted plain as day on his face.
God, why does your best friend have to be so cute. Okay, maybe a slightly inappropriate thought to be having, but it’s not like you’re hurting anyone! Other than yourself, that is, by not having your feelings returned. Collateral damage.
“He’s, like, super strong right?” you ask, turning back to your homework. Mostly to avoid looking at Peter, but also because you aren’t quite as good at calculus as him. He hums in answer, prompting you to continue. “Which means he’s probably super ripped. And if he’s super ripped, he’s gotta be like…”
You trail off, thinking he gets where you’re going. But when you look at him again, his brows are furrowed and you can’t help chuckling. “Spider-Man is probably really hot.”
Peter chokes on air.
“That’s not even-“ He cuts himself off, shaking his head which causes his hair to fall into his eyes, bringing more attention to the blush creeping it’s way onto his face. “I’ve always thought he was too… lanky.”
“Pfft!” You look at him like he’s gone crazy. “He’s not lanky. He’s tall. Tall guys are hot. He’s clearly got muscle. Probably was a popular jock or something in high school.”
“Yeah,” he says through a grin. He goes back to his homework and smiles like he’s sharing a private joke with himself, most likely at your mindless ramblings about Spider-Man. “That sounds about right.”
“And have you seen his ass?”
Peter chokes again.
“You good, Pete?” you inquire, raising an eyebrow at how awkward he is at the mention of Spider-Man’s ass. Just another aspect of his personality that you find irritatingly endearing.
“Just peachy,” he replies, through a strained voice.
You try, you really do, to keep in your laughter at his word choice. Unfortunately, you’ve never been good at that and as a result, you burst into a fit of giggles. Peter realises why you’re uncontrollably laughing soon enough and he groans, yet is unable to stop the corners of his mouth lifting. “You’re a child.”
“I can’t believe you said that. Of all phrases,” you say breathlessly, wiping a tear and finally calming down. This lasts a full five seconds and you don’t stop laughing again until you hear the click of a camera going off. “Hey!”
Peter had a habit of randomly taking photos of you, sometimes with him but mostly candid ones where you weren’t aware. A lot of the time he would print them out and stick them onto his collage inside his wardrobe, much to your protests.
“Delete that, I probably look hideous,” you whine, getting up to grab the device out of his hands as he looks at the picture he took, grinning. “Let me see!”
“Nope.” He pulls the camera out of your reach last minute, making you fall onto the bed with an indignant huff. “And you’ve never looked hideous a day in your life,” he mumbles under his breath, a hint of a scowl playing at his lips.
Pretending not to hear this, at the risk of him seeing your burning hot face, you go back to your homework. Curse Peter Parker and his stupid offhand comments that he doesn’t even know have an effect on you.
Somewhere in the eventual comfortable silence of your bedroom, Peter’s phone goes off and he shoots to his feet, collecting all his things into his backpack.
“Forgot I need to, uh, help Aunt May with some stuff,” he explains, already rushing out of the door, offering you an apologetic smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Yeah, okay see you-“ The door slams shut. “Later. I guess.”
And with that he’s gone, leaving your stupid heart still fluttering.
You see him the next day in school, just before second period. He missed first, as per usual. He never used to be late to class, but recently you’ve been catching him in the school hallways rather than outside your window on the fire escape so you can walk to school together.
“Parker!” you yell to get his attention as you make your way to his locker. He looks up, grins and gives you a little wave. There goes that heart again.
Just as you reach him, some girl bumps into you as she rushes to get to class, causing you to stumble and fall on Peter.
Immediately, Peter catches you by the waist, where you would otherwise have fallen face first. His hold on you is strong and steady, nothing like his old, clumsy self. That being said, your hand grips his upper arm and you gulp at the hard muscle beneath his jacket.
Woah, you think to yourself. When has he even had time to work out?
While you aren’t completely surprised since you’ve caught glimpses of his arms and peeks of his stomach as he’s taken his hoodies and jackets off in the last couple weeks, you didn’t think he was this jacked.
“Uh, fast reflexes there, Parker,” you nervously chuckle, still in the same position.
Your words seem to break him out of a trance and he clears his throat, gaze flickering down to your lips for a nanosecond and you almost miss it. You don’t, of course, since your face is mere inches away from his and you’re about to pass out from the smell of his intoxicating shampoo.
“You okay?” he asks with wide eyes, pulling you back up and you use everything within you not to complain about the loss of contact.
“Yeah, I’m f-“ you cut yourself off, properly taking in his face this time. A bruise is forming under eye his, directly on his cheekbone, and you gasp, tentatively reaching a hand out to trace it. Peter furrows his brows in confusion until you speak up, but your voice doesn’t raise above a whisper. “Peter, what happened…?”
“This little thing?” He looks away, pulling his hood up higher over his face, giving you a sheepish smile. Probably as an attempt to calm you down. It doesn’t work. “It’s nothing, really. I just… had a skating accident.”
“You didn’t have it last night!” you insist, struggling to see how and when it could have happened. “You also didn’t have your skateboard last night when you left, and you couldn’t have done it this morning because it’s already starting to bruise.”
Peter stares at you like a deer caught in headlights. “Since when did you become a detective?”
“That’s not the point! Did someone do this to you or something?” you demand, crossing your arms. “Because if they did, I’m going to seriously kick some ass!”
You can already imagine the steam coming out of your own ears, but when Peter starts to hide a smile behind his hand, you become furious.
“Is something funny about this?” you seethe, narrowing your eyes and taking a step closer in an attempt to intimidate an answer out of him. His smile grows.
“You’re just cute when you’re trying to be scary,” he says, grin on full display now. “Especially when you’re like, this tall.”
He looks at the tiny space between his fingers, showing you too.
“I can’t help it if you’re a tree,” you mumble angrily, practically looking up at him.
“Wasn’t it you who said tall guys are hot?” Peter rubs a hand across his jaw, pretending to be in deep thought. “Are you saying I’m hot?”
“Oh, shut up, you know you’ve got that hot skater boy thing going on. Don’t act like you don’t see those girls at the skate park ogling you! They don’t even skate!” you scoff, probably a little more annoyed than you should be at the idea of girls looking at your best friend. To your surprise, Peter looks like he’s just received brand new information.
“Those girls look at me?” he asks slowly, pointing a finger at himself. Then, as if he’s just taken in your words, he blinks. “You really think I’m hot?”
Spluttering, you refuse to answer the question, imagining the million ways that could go wrong. “Don’t change the subject, Parker! Now tell me h-“
“Shouldn’t you two be in class right now?” You’re interrupted by one of your teachers, looking at you expectantly.
“Y-yeah, sorry ma’am,” Peter quickly apologises, seeing his way out. You almost curse aloud when you remember your second period isn’t with him.
“This isn’t over,” you hiss, not looking back at his reaction before rushing to class. Unfortunately you can’t afford to have a detention on your record this early in the year.
You spend the whole school day without seeing Peter - big shocker - and when you get home you don’t bother inviting him round to study since he’s probably just going to be busy anyway.
Sighing, you throw your bag onto your bed and sink down into your desk chair to look at the news for a few minutes before inevitably getting lost in a Netflix binge marathon. The first thing that pops up is obviously the new vigilante and friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man, a clip of last night that was recorded by some passerby on the street.
Captivated by the way he swings around effortlessly, you marvel at him holding his own against eight grown men. That’s not the only thing you marvel at, remembering your conversation with Peter yesterday and laughing to yourself.
The footage is shaky, but shows clear as day every web shot by Spider-Man and the one hit he receives. That’s gotta hurt, you think, just as one of the guys swings a metal bar into the vigilante’s face, right under his eye.
That’s definitely going to bruise, you shudder, before switching it off and pulling up Netflix.
You’ll probably text Peter in an hour or so to check on him and make sure he’s putting ice on his own bruise.
Wait. His bruise… that’s in the same spot as where Spider-Man got hit last night…
No, you scoff. That’s just a coincidence. You’re just being fanciful because there’s no way your best friend is Spider-Man.
He would tell you, right?
Just like he told you where he got that bruise, you realise, swallowing harshly. You cant believe you’re even considering this, but he has been weirdly secretive. And it’s been around the time Spider-Man first started to show up. That explains the muscles and the weirdly fast reflexes and how he isn’t as clumsy as he used to be and how he doesn’t wear his glasses anymore.
“Contact lenses, my ass,” you mutter to yourself.
You look at one of the pictures you have of Peter pinned to the cork board above your desk. You had taken it recently with his camera, insisting that he had too many of you and you wanted some of your own. Studying the way he covers his face and his stance, you’re hit with the startling realisation that he has the same build as Spider-Man. The same height, the same lean body…
Oh, you’re going to kill Peter Parker.
An idea hits you with all the weight of a freight train and you abandon your laptop and Netflix plans to head to the skate park. Once you arrive, you head to the top of the ramp, thankful there’s no one there right now.
Whipping out your phone, you drop a quick text to Peter.
emergency @ skate park. get here quick.
You wait a couple minutes, looking down at the bottom of the ramp to calculate how badly you’d be injured if your suspicions weren’t correct.
Your internal debate over whether or not this whole thing is worth breaking an arm over is interrupted by Peter running up to join you on the ramp with a terrified expression on his face.
He definitely wouldn’t have gotten here in time if he wasn’t Spider-Man.
“Oh my god, are you okay?!” he practically yells, grabbing hold of your shoulders to inspect you. You almost break and tell him that you’re fine and you just wanted to test your theory. Until you see the bruise on his face again.
Taking his hands off your shoulders, you take a small step back, wobbling on the ramp. His worried eyes only narrow in confusion slightly, probably still shook up by your text.
“Here goes nothing,” you say, stomach churning as you turn your back to the edge of the ramp and fall.
You catch sight of Peter’s face about to yell out for you, but he doesn’t waste a second before starting towards you.
If your breath wasn’t already caught in your throat from falling, it definitely would have been when the webs shoot from his wrist and latch onto you.
Despite expecting this, you gasp, breathing heavily. Shit, you think. You had not thought about the rest of this plan.
Pulling you up with ease, Peter pulls you by the webs attached to your shirt and into his arms. “What the hell did you do that for? Were you trying to break your neck? What if I couldn’t have caught you? God, I hate you for doing that to me, I literally thought my heart was about to st-“
“You caught me,” you say, voice muffled by the fact Peter is holding you tightly against him. That doesn’t stop you from rambling though. “You actually managed to catch me with- with your webs. Oh my God, I was right.”
Pulling you away, he holds you by the arms in front of him, his mouth set in a grave line. “You knew? That I’m… that I could…”
Shrugging, you laugh nervously. “I mean, I had a suspicion, but I didn’t know that you’re actually- holy shit. My best friend is actually Spider-Man.”
“No, no, no,” Peter puts his face in his hands, very clearly stressed. “This is bad. This is very, very bad.”
“Yes, it is,” you scowl, snapping out of your shock and remembering that he never told you. “You should be very scared for your life right now. Because trust me, Peter Parker, it’s a mystery as to why I haven’t killed you yet for not telling me you’re a freaking superhero!”
You smack his arm which probably does more harm to your hand than to him. He doesn’t even flinch.
“Do you realise,” he pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a deep breath. “Just how much danger you’ve put yourself in by knowing I’m Spider-Man?”
“Peter, you don’t even realise how stupid you sound right now,” you shake your head, laughing without a trace of humour in your voice. “You are quite literally putting your life at risk every. Single. Day. And I had no idea! I can’t even imagine what I would do if you d-“
“Me?” Peter chuckles, incredulous. He groans, tugging on his hair in frustration before waving his arms around trying to get the words out. “Y/N. I can knock over 12 tonnes with a barely forceful poke of my finger. People are trying to kill me every. Single. Day. And failing. If they find out that the girl I’ve been in love with ever since I can remember even exists and is without superpowers?”
Peter cuts himself off, turning his back to you and standing deathly still.
“What did you say?” Your voice is hoarse when you ask this, not quite believing your ears. “The girl you’ve been in love with?”
“Forget I said that,” he mutters, still not looking at you.
“What about me, huh?” you demand, stepping around him to make him face you. “The guy I’ve been in love with my whole life is getting beat up every night by thugs with metal pipes and there’s nothing I can do to stop-“
“Stop talking,” Peter’s eyes flash and he webs the front of your shirt again. This time he pulls you impossibly close to him and presses his lips against yours feverishly. You make a noise of surprise in the back of your throat before reaching up on your tip toes and relaxing into the kiss, your hand snaking up into his hair. Peter’s lips move perfectly in sync with yours and you don’t know if it’s been seconds, minutes or days when you pull away for breath.
Resting your forehead against his own, you can’t stop the smile spreading on your face, mirroring Peter’s. He’s the first to speak, brushing his nose against yours. “You love me.”
“Yep,” you confirm, hand still playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “So just be glad those girls weren’t here staring at you again. Otherwise I would probably have gathered the force to knock over a few high school girls with a very forceful poke of my finger.”
“Noted,” Peter nods in mock seriousness. “You should also be glad those guys that usually skate here to impress you, aren’t here today either. Otherwise I would probably web ‘em in the face.”
“Eh,” you shrug. “You were always a better skater than them anyway. Probably to do with your superhuman abilities and all.”
“Hey, I take offence!”
“Kidding, kidding,” you laugh, grabbing your bag off the floor and holding Peter’s hand, leading him off the ramp. He doesn’t even try to hide the way he looks at you anymore and it kinda, sort of makes your insides melt. “So… can you swing me across the city now?”
© earthgirl616 2022.
I’ll Crawl Home to Her
After a long day, all Peter wants is a bit of love and someone to take care of him.
PAIRING: TASM!Peter Parker x Fem!Reader
WORD COUNT: 3k
CONTENT: they’re 18+, fluff, nsfw, oral (m), light sub/dom, soft smut, mentions of violence, injuries + blood, thigh riding, cleaning wounds, bit of plot (?)
NOTES: inspired after the scene where Peter goes to Gwen’s place. And I should have proof read this more but I really wanted to get this out asap!
The tapping sound was faint, almost inaudible and would have been mistaken for tree branches rattling together or the traffic lights swaying in the breeze had it not been insistent. It began from the base of the window by her bed, becoming increasingly louder, slicing through the night.
The latches popped open, the window being pushed open with a hand restricted from view as a thudding sound echoed throughout the room.
The action would have been concerning for anyone but her.
Instead, she rolled out of bed, rubbed the sleep from her eyes and shuffled closer to the window. She kicked over the black bag that was tossed to the ground before looking out.
“Sorry,” Peter rasped, smiling weakly as his mouth hung open. “Wasn’t trying to be that loud.”
Peter crouched on the fire escape that wrapped around the apartment building. The soft moonlight caressed his face, hidden and shining through his hair along with the nearby multicoloured lights that reflected off the nearby bulletin boards.
There was a monochromatic beauty of the moon that the sun could never offer: the return of Peter.
“Oh, Pete,” she sighed, worried that he was maskless. Her focus latched onto the blood coating the side of his face, matting his hair to his head and the gashes and tears through his suit.
“Been a long night,” he tried to joke, shifting and climbing through the window.
She wrapped her hands around him when he came in, limping and nearly falling over. She observed him, searching for any other injuries as Peter leaned into her touch.
Peter always did this, refused to go to the hospital in fear of revealing identity. She saw what the world didn’t get to. They saw Spider-man, an invincible being, undoubtedly brave with superhuman strength and intelligence. But she saw Peter Parker: a boy battered and bruised, soft and shy — limbs pliable as clay every night.
It was a privilege knowing Peter, one that was filled with the purest of love and devotion but frightening, darkened by the fear that he may meet his match one day.
No matter how many times he managed to find his way back to her like this, it never failed to bring an overwhelming terror to wash over her, having to stifle the onslaught of tears.
“Hey, hey,” he cooed. “It’s not that bad. I’m fine. You know I heal unnaturally fast.”
She bit her cheek, nodded stiffly and led Peter into the bathroom to run a bath.
As softly as possible, she tried to peel his suit off him and lowered him in the tub. He hissed and grunted, pain etched into his face as the sensitive wounds met the warm water.
She knelt on the cold tiles, bending over the bath, wiping away the blood with wet cloths, washing away the dirt, blood and grim as Peter tried to prevent soap from entering the open wounds. He hissed through clenched several times as she lifted the alcohol-soaked rag to the cuts.
Thankfully, Peter eventually relaxed. A continuous murmur of ‘thank you’s’ left his lips was mixed in with the running tap. His head rested against the cool titles and raised white ridge of the bath as he watched her with a soft glance.
“You’re the best,” he said, the corners of his mouth twitching up until noticing her expression.
Her mouth hadn’t shifted from the fine line it had set itself when she first saw his condition.
She doesn’t ask what happened, she rarely does these days, but it doesn’t stop the worry that ate away at her. And by the look of these wounds, there was no doubt he had been in a grave situation.
“Stop it,” he tried, hoping to halt her movements. “Hey — Woah — easy there.”
His hand, wet with soapy water lifted to cup her cheek and forced her to hold his gaze. “I’m fine. I’m here.”
She sucked in a sharp breath, forcing on a little smile while soaking in his touch. “I’m just… I’m always so worried.”
There was something unreadable that crossed Peter.
“I know, and I’m sorry.”
She shook her head, kissed the tip of his nose and got up, albeit with a whine of protest from Peter, leaving to reach for the mirror cabinet to grab the first aid kit. “You never have to apologize for quite literally saving New York.”
There was a slight chuckle, followed by the splashing of water that had her whipping her head.
“Woah!” She exclaimed, rushing up to Peter who had stood by himself, grabbing his robe with wobbly legs. “Easy there, bug boy. No responsibilities for you tonight. Let me take care of you.”
Guiding him back to their bed, Peter winced as he lowered himself down, sinking into the fluffy bedding and pillows, drowning in his robe but managed to keep one hand on her thigh.
Dabbing on antibiotic ointments before applying little bandaids on top of cuts, she was acutely aware of Peter’s unwillingness to let her go, not even for a moment.
“Mm,” he said, a bit distressed as the antibiotics stung him. “You’re wearing my shirt.”
“Was missing you. Makes me feel like you’re close to me.”
She continued to work in silence, smiling every once in a while and Peter’s soft gaze never left her face.
“Penny for your thoughts, Spidey?”
“Don’t mind me, just enjoying the view.”
He found purchase on her hips and waist, tugging her close. His grip was a little too hard, but her heart bubbled with a sense of fondness. He always underestimated and forgot his strength and capabilities when he got overwhelmed.
She placed a kiss on top of the last bandaid placed. His skin was littered with scars; some old, some new, some still a deep red, some healed. But it didn’t make him any less beautiful or worthy. Gently hooking a finger under his chin, pulling him to her lips, focusing all her unexpressed love and adoration she felt for him.
Her movements stilled. “Do you know how much I love you?” She blurted out.
Peter smiled bashfully. “I might have a clue.”
Pushing the first aid kit to the side to properly straddle him, her hands ran through his hair, making Peter groan as he melted into the bed.
“How about you? Do you know how much I love you?”
She grinned cheekily. “I think I need a reminder.”
Leaning forward, their noses touched, and Peter’s smile grew wide as his head began to shake a little. He was so warm, her fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, smiling into every small kiss, finding solace in the knowledge he was home once more.
“I love you,” he whispered into the night. “I can’t believe you’re real. You’re so perfect.”
Her skin heated, heart swooning and Peter shyly ducked his face down before wincing when he shifted. It broke their comfortable silence, sending a hot flash of hurt and guilt down her spine before she turned and opened the drawer on her nightstand. Grabbing a water bottle, Ibuprofen and dark chocolate.
She always made sure to have a small stash for nights like these.
Pressing the rim of the water bottle to his lips, Peter drank gingerly, only lifting his hand to ease the bottle away, took the medication and waited as she unwrapped the chocolate, passing it to him.
His nose wrinkled as he bit into it, the bitter flavour and she giggled at his reaction.
“I know, but it’ll help regain some strength.”
As he ate, she learned that the marks came from a mutant hybrid: half-man, half-lion that was shortly detained after Peter and the NYPD chased it for ten blocks. But of course, it hadn’t gone down without a fight and ended up clawing him, tearing his suit and nearly sinking its fangs into his neck.
“Try and be more careful,” she sighed, reaching up to ruffle his hair.
Peter shoved the remaining chocolate in his mouth and placed his left hand on his heart, his right in the air as he swore, “I promise to be carefuller because I’m deathly afraid of a small kitten.”
“Oh, you dick.”
“I swear! I promise!”
“I’m wounded! You know I don’t make promises I don’t intend to keep!”
“You talk an awful lot when wounded.”
“So much so I’ve learned to tune myself out.”
“I — just promise me!”
“Okay! I promise.”
Happy with the answer, she beamed and reached over to the nightstand to pull out another water, only to realize that was the last one. Peter caught on quickly too.
“I’ll go get more —“
“No,” he rasped, his mood instantly changing. His hands latched onto her, a needy, desperate expression written on his face. She allowed him to pull her back to his chest, feeling his face press against her neck while murmuring against her skin as she fought the urge to shiver from his touch. “Please don’t leave.”
“I’ll only be gone for a second, okay?” She tried to soothe, a little put off by his reaction but she assumed he was still shaken up. “You need something to eat.”
But his grip tightened. “Please.”
There was a part of Peter’s brain that rationally knew she only wanted to help, be a dotting partner, but he didn’t want her to take care of his wounds anymore. They would heal — look brand new after a goodnight’s sleep and the morning sun rose. All he wanted was her: to be close, to hold and to love at that moment. Every thought that swirled in his mind seemed to be drunk on the thought of her, her, her —
Roaming the streets of New York was never boring, but it was draining to have so much control, to use strength day in, day out. All he wanted was to relinquish it for a while.
His kisses were soft, sweet, tentative with underlying desire and urgency with every touch splayed across her skin. He didn’t want to leave a single place untouched by him, too addicted to stop.
She shifted in Peter’s lap, tugging him closer only to feel him jerking his hips up slightly, just to create more friction as she felt something poke into her leg.
“Really?” She laughed, running her fingers through his hair to look at him better. His face was flushed, a deep pink, most likely from embarrassment, tinged his cheeks. “You’re hard from this?”
“You’re pretty. I can’t appreciate my beautiful girlfriend?”
“Then I think you’d like to know I’m not wearing underwear.”
“Fuck,” he chuckled, “You’re such a tease.”
His head playfully shook a few times with a light smile. Chocolate brown eyes filled with soft admiration and want; Peter was filled with vulnerability as every action screamed neediness. He pressed quick kisses to her lips then looked up at her doe-eyed. “Darling,” he whispered, desperate and pleading. “Please — please.”
“Shh,” she chided, pulling away to seat herself on his thigh while undoing the belt of his robe and dragging the soft pads of her fingers along his cock, relishing in the way Peter shuddered under her touch.
Peter whimpered, entrusting his body to her, to let her use and toy with him.
Her thumb swiped over the tip, spreading the pre-cum that beaded through while setting a steady pace stroking his length.
He groaned, head falling back against the headrest. His hips twitched and buckled up, trying to thrust in time with her strokes but he physically couldn’t, too tired to.
‘“I’ve got you, Peter,” she shushed softly, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw as her hand twisted. “I’ll take care of you.”
Muffling his soft moans with a kiss, she ravished him, and he savoured her very being. Her touch anchored him to her, a present reminder that he was loved and cared for, no matter the wrong he did, she never asked.
He moved to gasp for air, only to return sucking on the patch of skin below her jaw. But she had other plans. Shifting her shirt up, she started to roll her hips onto his thigh.
Peter was slow to respond at first but eventually took it upon himself to help rock her back and forth, moaning as he felt the wetness coat him. Hands were everywhere; gazing at her skin and holding her tightly against him. His movements began to falter and lose the rhythm, but she continued.
Pawing at her shirt and lifting it above her head, Peter trailed the tips of his fingers from her stomach, only stopping at her breast and his thumb coming to lightly rub slow circles on her nipple. He pressed gentle kisses between her breasts before his tongue poked out, tracing light circles around her nipple. He was teasing, flicking the nub with his tongue until he took it in his mouth. Her hand reached to pull his hair again, every little tug making him hold back noises simultaneously as the other hand continued to stroke his cock fast.
She moaned with every careful swirl of his tongue, squeezed around his thigh and whined when the pressure on her clit was matched with Peter lightly biting at her nipple. Her knee was pressed against his groin, adding to Peter’s pleasure.
Peter pulled away, a silver line of spit snapping that connected his mouth from her breast, peering up to watch her reaction.
He gently jerked his thigh up, meeting her thrust and the added friction made her keen.
“You like that?”
She nodded her head minutely, legs beginning to shake and tremble as she was pushed to that edge. “Uh-huh.”
There was something that flashed in Peter’s eyes before, to the best of his abilities, bounced his leg fast — finding the perfect rhythm and angle to build the pleasure that shot up her spine.
She tightened, tensed, rubbing her clit faster while Peter firmly held her, rubbing his free hand up her back as they squirmed.
“Come for me —” he sounded frantic, one hand finding its way to push her down hard, her clit dragging up deliciously. His abdomen caved in with every small brush of her pussy on his thigh and stroke of his cock. “I want you to come, make a mess. Please baby,” he begged.
She focused on the building tightening of her stomach, the shivering that began to course through her entire body that built so fast it startled her. When Peter recognized, murmured and pleaded for her not to stop, the coiling sapped, bursting and scattered — a euphoric feeling that shot through her.
He prolonged her climax, leg continuing to flex to help guide her until her pussy began to ache from the aftershock.
Peter was staring at her, his eyes glazed and eyelids heavy with a pretty flush coating his cheeks. “Please.”
Her hand began to move again, starting a steady pace again that had him at her mercy once more.
“Tell me how it feels,” she said, marvelling at him.
Peter could barely speak, exhaustion flowing off of him in waves as he was desperate for release. He let out a strangled sort of moan, throaty. “So good. So, so, so good. T-thank you.”
Smiling, she shifted off his lap and trailed down a line of kisses from his stomach, then chest before settling between his legs. Peter gulped as he watched her tongue poke out to lick the slit of his cock.
Peter almost yelped, hips bucking up instinctively, then moaned when her mouth, hot and warm, slowly dragged up the flat of her tongue and closed around the first couple inches of his cock.
Peter was responsive to the tiniest of her touches. His bottom lip was trapped between his teeth, lips were bitten raw.
Peter groaned, desperately trying not to thrust into her mouth, rotting himself in place by gripping the bedsheets.
Gagging a little when the tip hit the back of her throat, she fisted the rest of him that couldn’t fit in his mouth and began bobbing her head. The sucking sounds obscene and Peter’s soft mewls in the otherwise quiet room.
Encouraged by his reaction, she sped up, hallowing her cheeks, sucking harder and moaning around him. The vibration nearly made him sob while her tongue dragged over a prominent vein along the side of his cock and she relished in the way his thighs clenched.
Peter thrashed a little when she pushed her head down further. And that was enough.
He came hard, her name spilling out in soft pants and whines as he used the little energy he still had to thrust up into her mouth.
She pulled back, wiped her mouth and settled herself back in his lap. His eyes were closed and hair messily strewn across his face.
“Thank you,” he whispered, opening his heavy lids to observe her.
She quirked a brow before kissing him, catching a quick look at the shine that reflected off his leg in the moonlight.
“That bath was for nothing.”
“I don’t mind repeating the cycle.”
She giggled, he melted into her touch and smiled to himself. Peter wrapped his arms around her, holding her as close as possible and she concentrated on his heart beating.
“I love you,” he said. His eyes seemed to glitter in the low lighting; there was nothing that could compare to the love that lurked behind every glance in his eyes or mere touch.
“I love you too.”
Love seemed like a silly, simple word to describe a feeling so much more than just simple. Love was driven by passion, potential labyrinth and an imperfect intricateness that built homes over barren land of blood vessels and organs.
Love tore, love mended, love was beautiful, love was dangerous.
But in this case, love only persevered and stored itself into the cages of their heats that always seemed too small to hold so much of it — as if two souls grasped and latched onto each other so tightly and constantly added renovations to their love storage. And Peter couldn’t mutter it enough.
She left him high, loved him deeply, and at the end of the day when night returns and the stars speckle the sky, she was a steady anchor that reeled Peter back home. Nothing could hold him down, keep him away. He would crawl home to her.
THIS IS NOT NO FREE USE SHIT YOU CAN NOT USE MY WORK
pairing(s): andrew garfield!peter parker x fem!reader
summary: you're trying to wait patiently until peter is done with his work but you just really want him to touch you
warning(s): 18+ content, fingering and unedited work
navigation | tasm!peter parker masterlist
You sat in Peter's lap picking at the end of your tennis skirt trying desperately not to move too much on his lap.
You watched him write down math problems on the paper you could hardly understand and all you wanted to ask was for him to touch you.
You were afraid to sound too needy though, too touch starved and you hated when you sounded that way so you kept your mouth shut trying to wait patiently until he was finished though you had been sitting here for what felt like hours and your wetness was getting too much to bare you could just get up and scream for him to fuck yo-
"Can you stop moving?" He asked though his voice almost sounded as if he was teasing you.
His hands were on your waist stopping you from squirming in his lap. Your eyes were wide as you avoided his gaze. It wasn't that you thought he would judge you or anything it was just-
You didn't know why you were being such a baby you could just ask him to touch you and he would probably say yes but you were so nervous and you weren't really experienced in this whole thing.
"Did you hear me?" You looked at him realizing he had said something that you hadn't listened to because you were too busy wallowing in your horniness.
"I'm sorry what?" You managed to get out he leaned closer to your ear "I said you're soaking up my pants" You practically jumped off his lap looking and realizing oh fuck there was a wet spot on his pants.
You wished the floor could just swallow you up.
You let out an embarrassed squeal covering you face but he only laughed grabbing your hands pulling it away from your face.
"It's okay Y/N" he said softly once he saw your face again "It's okay to be needy" his nose bumped against yours as his voice soothed you just a bit. "Do you want me to help you?"
You bit your lip nervously, your teeth dig into your skin until his thumb pulled your lip from your teeth running his thumb over your bottom lip "I hate it when you do that" he mumbled softly "Do you want me to help you? Do you?"
"Y-yeah" you gulped as he gave you a kind smile and you found yourself wondering how you were blessed with such a wonderful boyfriend.
"I will never understand why you're so nervous around me" he turned you around sitting you back on his lap just the way you were before "I've touched you plenty of times" he teased tickling your sides.
He pushed up your skirt spreading your legs causing them to fall around his thigh "Is this okay?" He asked like he had done so many times before not moving until he got your answer.
"Yes" you breathed out.
His fingers slid over the crotch of your panties causing you to gasp slowly. He placed soft kisses on your jaw while he massaged your clit through the soft material. He smiled as he heard soft whimpers leaving your pretty lips.
He would never get tired of listening to the sweet noises you make.
He pushed your panties to the side shoving a finger inside you and you let out a moan "Peter"
"More" he chuckled pushing another finger inside you, you threw your head back against his shoulder giving him more access to your neck. He sucked onto your skin "Fuck" you pushed back against his hand that was quickly pushing his fingers in and out of you.
Your hand reached around digging in his hair your eyes closing as he dragged all the sweet noises out of you.
"You never have be afraid to ask" he mumbled into your ear fingerfucking you harder "I'll always touch you" he kissed your temple "I'll always fuck you" His fingers hit your g spot as he rubbed your clit harshly. You back arched at the feeling clenching around his fingers "All you gotta do is ask"
You felt your orgasm approaching "Peter I-"
The room was filled with your soft whines and moans and the sound of your wetness. Stars filled your vision as you came on his fingers.
He fucked you through your high before he stopped letting you catch your breath pressing light kisses along your face telling you how amazing you are.
You bit into your lip running your fingers through his hair "You wanna play a game?" He asked and you hummed lightly looking at him over your shoulder seeing a smirk playing on his lips.
"Like what Parker?"
"Let's see how many times I can make you cum before I finish this paper" he tapped his pencil on the desk raising his eyebrows. "Unless you're too chicken and just can't handle it" he teased his thumb flicking over your clit and you scoffed "You challenging me?"
"You're on, I can fucking handle it"
"Sure you can"
a/n: omg im actually proud of this fic- it's been a long time since i wrote a smut so imma little rusty so this might be trash but tell me what you think and feel free to request. reblogs and comments are appreciated.
peter is disastrously bad at talking about how he feels. friends to lovers!
NOTE: tysm @gotkindabored for helping me post this, and also being all-around lovely! pls go easy on me, im VERY rusty :)
She hears it from the familiar corner of her bedroom, one that she’s used to. He sounds hoarse and out of breath, and his suit is slick with rainwater. She looks beautiful, of course. There isn’t a moment of the day she doesn’t steal his breath.
“Peter,” she says, voice low and careful, but even still- he can hear the honey-sweet affection his name is spoken through, “You’re early tonight, huh?”
He cracks a smile, and looks her over- he can’t help it.
He fell on her fire escape, one night. Her crappy college apartment, a shared place with her own room. It was months ago, feels like decades now. Of course, he knew who she was before that night. He knew she was the kind girl, who smiled at him every time she passed him in the hallways. He’s had a crush on her since was ten, when she offered him a chocolate bar the day after Halloween, when Aunt May had just packed a granola bar.
And when they got older- all through high school, he never had the nerve to say a damn word to her. And the worse thing about it was, she became his friend. Became close enough to him that he could memorize the curve of her lips just from the sheer amount he’s stared at them, close enough that her fingers brushed his enough times when seated next to each other, it was torture to consider if he’d ever get to be the one to interlock them. He’d wanted to tell her, planned on it, thought about it every single day.
She only found out about Spider-Man when he’d fallen on her fire escape.
She’s gorgeous, he observes, in the low light of her bedroom. Her eyes are the prettiest thing he’s ever seen, and they never get less remarkable of a sight, even when he comes here almost every night. He peers at her with an adoring gaze, one that he’s sure can’t be too subtle.
What can he say to that? The sun has barely set, and their little pattern they have, of coming to her after a patrol to eat microwaved ramen and watch some show on Netflix, was all he thought about all week?
“I guess I’m getting lazy,” he quips, with a half upturned smirk, before sitting on her bed, “You wanna watch a movie or something?”
“How was your day?” She asks, her voice a sweet call of sympathy. She worries for him, which fills him with a selfish sense of rapture.
She worries for me.
“It was great, I just wanted to get it over with though. I’ve been thinking about getting a chance to sit down with you for a bit since first thing this morning.”
Did he reveal too much? He worries that every time he opens his mouth with her. It’s a miracle that she hasn’t realized how desperately into her he always has been.
The mask has been off since he entered the room, but when he is sat beside her, is when she combs through his tousled hair with her delicate fingers.
She smells like a rose.
It’s an ache, to want her like this. A little tragedy he carries around with him every day in his pocket, a bit of pain to sit beside him on the subway. Someone once told him that unrequited love was like an affection never known to its’ fullest.
He can’t imagine wanting her any more than he does now.
It’s a nice night. The rain made the swinging a bit more inconvenient, but honestly, it just made coming back to her that much warmer of
He studies her face, can’t seem to stop as she rushes around trying to find her remote to her shitty little TV she’s got propped up on her shelf. She’s got the prettiest eyes he thinks have ever existed, and the adorable way she crinkles her nose has him held in something of a trance.
When she finds it, she sits next to him. Actually, her thigh is touching his, and her Iron Man blanket draped over the two of them when she starts a film.
He tries to focus on the movie. It does not work.
In his defense, she’s very distracting, Her hair is up in the most adorable bun he’s ever seen, and she’s distracting, okay? Every moment he’s around her feels like she’s a magnet pulling him in, a force keeping her in his orbit.
Then, he notices it.
She’s wearing his sweatshirt.
And it’s like he can’t breathe, and it’s so fucking stupid, but- he left it here months ago. Didn’t even mean to, just brought it as a change of clothes so he’d be more comfortable than he usually is in his suit.
But she’d washed it, kept it, and worn it, and his brain is so fucking cruel to him. If he was her boyfriend, he’d give her all of his sweaters, tease her about it but still get to marvel that the woman he adored- she would be his.
“You okay?” he hears her say, her voice cracking through the haze of desperation he’s trapped himself into.
“I,” he can’t think of what to say. His throat feels dry, feels like it’s frozen. Everything he wants to say could break what the little haven he’s got now. And where would he be then, without her? Still, loving her feels inevitable, and he can’t not say what he wants. “You’re wearing my sweatshirt.”
She preens. She preens.
If she were his, she’d have million reason to swoon. He’d be the best boyfriend he could ever be, if it meant seeing that look on her face.
It’s a glimpse into another life. A life where she’d be his to hold, his to touch, where she’d seek out his clothes when his own presence could not be found, and god, Peter would give anything to have her want him even half as much as he craves her.
“Yeah, is that okay? I can give it back.” Her voice is shaky and uncertain.
Don’t give it back. Keep it. Keep me.
“You look beautiful in it,” he murmurs, and fuck, he usually manages a joking tone when he says the things he means. But somehow, she’s gotten close to him, so close that she’s looking up at him with those eyes he keeps falling for, so close that her lovely fingers actually are on top of his now.
Her magnetic pull is not always one he can resist.
“Thank you,” she replies, voice so low that its’ almost a whisper, almost reverent. She’s unsure of herself. She pulls back a fraction of an inch, and he follows to meet the gap, because now he can smell the hot chocolate on her breath, close enough to her lips that leaving feels like a crime to his own self-preservation.
“We can change the movie-“
“Kiss me,” he whispers, more of a thought turned to sound than an intentional action, but he wants it, wants it like her orbit is pulling him, like the universe at large is begging for it to happen.
Drunk on how close she is, he cups the side of her face with one hand. He’s so fucking glad he remembered to wear his normal clothes under his suit to hang out because feeling her face in his hand without the gloves is pretty close to what salvation feels like.
“Please,” he says, “Kiss me.”
It happens slow, slower than he ever would have thought, but then again, he never thought this would happen in the first place. She pulls in and his breathing gets heavier, and it’s everything he’s ever wanted and yet more than he could’ve expected.
She tastes like cherry chapstick and her a taste he can’t seem to get enough of.
When she pulls away, she doesn’t get far- one of his hands is still on the side of her face, the other on her waist. God, did he never expect this.
He certainly couldn’t have predicted what she’d say, with her forehead pressed to his, the two of them slowly pursuing air again.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
The Baby Assignment [P.P]
Summary: When you and Peter begin working on an assignment for your Child Development class and Morgan overhears your discussions, she starts to think that you and Peter are actually expecting a baby, leading to a lot of confusion and a very pissed off Tony.
Word Count: 3.8k
Warnings: mentions of sex, mentions of pregnancy and childbirth, swearing, typos
a/n: just something nice and fluffy before the last chapter of bty comes out and crushes everyone’s souls
“MJ is so pissed,” Peter laughed as the two of you walked hand in hand into the penthouse of the tower, “she said Flash has already made three misogynistic remarks and eight ‘that’s what she said’ jokes.”
“Oh god,” you chuckled, “she’s gonna kill him.”
Peter’s phone buzzed again, “nine jokes,” he updated with a smile, texting her back a frowny face.
“I’m just glad we got paired together,” you said as you set your backpack on the kitchen counter, “I mean imagine if you got paired with Flash… or worse, if I got paired with Flash.” You grimaced at the thought.
“Flash was ten times more likely to wind up dead if he got paired with you rather than MJ, so I’d say he’d be the one with the short end of the stick there,” Peter joked, setting his bag next to yours as you rooted through the fridge for some juice.
“You’re right,” you agreed with a smile, “besides, it would never come to that because you would do the gentlemanly thing and switch partners with me, right?”
You turned to Peter with apple juice in your hand. Peter wrapped his arms around you and pressed a kiss to your forehead, “Aw babe,” he cooed, “no chance in hell.”
You pulled away with a laugh, setting the apple juice on the counter behind you, “You’re lucky you’re so cute, Parker,” you smiled.
Peter’s cheeks flushed pink as you looked up at him and batted your eyelashes. He smiled down at you, flicking his eyes between your gaze and your plush lips, just begging for a kiss.
“What?” you asked coyly, bringing your hand up to the back of his head and playing with the curls that grew there.
“Stop looking at me like that,” Peter muttered as he leaned into you and your temptress ways, “we need to work on our project soon.”
“Mhm,” you hummed, “and?”
“You’re distracting me,” Peter’s breath was minty on your face as he spoke, lips inching closer to yours.
“Am not,” you bit your lip.
Peter leaned in fully, closing the gap between the two of you, but just when his lips met yours—ding! The elevator door opened.
“Hands off my daughter, Underoos,” Tony said, not even looking up from his phone as he walked into the penthouse.
Peter immediately took a huge step away from you, quickly busying himself with getting glasses from the cabinet for the apple juice.
“Dad,” you groaned, walking over to your backpack to get your computer and homework out, “I thought you were in Spain.”
“It was Prague,” Tony corrected, “and I just got off the jet. Is this what you guys do whenever I leave?” He asked, looking up from his phone and pointing between you and Peter with a disgusted look on his face.
“N-No, of course not, Mr. Stark—” Peter began, turning towards his mentor, but you cut him off.
“Only if there’s no one else home,” you shrugged. Peter snapped his head towards you and widened his eyes, “What?” you held your hands up in defense, “There’s no point in lying.”
Tony pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a long sigh, “I hate teenagers,” he groaned as he walked away towards the living room.
“That… went surprisingly better than I thought it would,” Peter noted as he set your glass of apple juice next to your notes.
“He’s tired,” you said, “we’ll probably get a stern talking to about protection and all that later. Or better yet, he’ll have Steve give us the lecture,” you grimaced at the thought.
“I can’t go through another one of those talks,” Peter groaned, taking a seat next to you at the counter, “May found the condoms I bought before I got a chance to put them away and every time she mentioned sex during the entire conversation she called it “fornicating”.”
You laughed and elbowed Peter’s arm, “I’ll do you one better,” you proposed, “Steve still refers to it as “fonduing”.” You wiggled your eyebrows at Peter as you said it, making him laugh along with you.
After your laughter died down you pulled up the assignment you were given on your computer, “Okay,” you began, “Mrs. Horn said that we’re getting the dolls on Monday so this weekend we have to have typed out a birth plan, daily schedule, and list of notable child physicians in the area that we could go to.”
“Okay,” Peter nodded, opening his laptop as well, “what do you want to start first?”
“Birth plan probably,” you began typing on a shared document with Peter, “she said it has to be at least one page and include alternate plans for worst-case scenarios. So we should do our regular birth plan and then we could do one like if something bad were to happen.”
You began typing out the plan of what you would want to do if you were really having a baby. Peter watched as you wrote out all of the plans, taking note of how quickly you seemed to figure this all out.
“This feels so weird,” Peter mumbled.
“What do you mean?” you asked, looking over at him.
“It feels kind of real,” he explained, “like, have you thought about this?”
“Not particularly,” you shrugged, “I mean, sometimes. I just think logically I will probably have kids, so it’s good to know ahead of time how I want them to come into the world and how I plan to raise them and all that jazz.”
“Yeah,” Peter nodded.
“Do you want to change anything on here?” you asked, “I mean, it’s your kid too.” you joked, nudging Peter slightly.
“N-No,” Peter shook his head, “it all looks really good,” he smiled, mesmerized by the thought of having children with you and starting a family one day.
Of course, it was way too early to even think of that, let alone make plans for it, but knowing that you also thought about these scenarios made Peter’s heart soar.
He’d always felt—at least in some small part of him—like your feelings for each other were one-sided. Or maybe not one-sided completely, but at least he thought that he loved you more or cared about your relationship more than you did. But this project you’d been given was easing those worries little by little. It might not have meant nearly as much to you, but to Peter, it meant the world to know that you thought of the future like this. Possibly a future with him.
“Oh, and names,” you said, looking up from your laptop to Peter, “one boy name and one girl name since Mrs. Horn is randomly assigning the babies to each pair so we won’t know if we get a boy or a girl until Monday.”
“That’s dumb,” Peter said, “don’t people usually know beforehand? So they can know what clothes to buy and stuff.”
“Yeah, but I guess some people like surprises like that,” you shrugged, “I would want to know as soon as possible.”
“Mhm,” Peter agreed.
“Okay, so names,” you started typing out a section for that on the document, “any ideas?”
“Hm,” Peter thought about it for a moment, “how about Hans, like from Star Wars.”
“Wow,” you nodded, “even for our fake kid I hate it.”
Peter shook his head, “Well what do you want to name it?”
“I don’t know,” you shrugged, “even though this is all fake and stuff, it’s good practice. That’s why we took the class—”
“We also both needed another elective credit,” Peter mumbled.
“So I don’t just want to pick some random names and be done with it,” you explained.
“Well,” Peter began, “if I had a girl, I’d want to name her May because May has always been such a big part of my life. I’d want to honor her by doing that.”
“Okay,” you nodded with a smile, “I really like that. Want to add a middle name?”
“You can pick.”
“I like Louise,” you typed it out, “she’s my favorite character in Bob’s Burgers,” you smiled.
“Perfect,” Peter agreed, “and for a boy?”
“Anthony?” you asked, “After my dad, and then Ben for a middle name, after your uncle,” you typed it out as you spoke before looking up at Peter, “what d’you think?”
“I-I really like that,” Peter nodded, a small smile dancing on his lips.
“Okay,” you closed your laptop, “that’s enough for one day. We can look for child physicians tomorrow.”
Ding! As you and Peter finished up your work in the kitchen, Morgan was just coming up to the penthouse, just now returning from school herself.
“Hey little miss,” you smiled when you saw her, but you frowned when you saw the small pout on her face, “what’s wrong?”
“‘M not any good at kindergarten,” Morgan pouted, “I messed up reading during read-aloud time.”
“That’s okay, Morg,” you tried to reassure her, “one mistake doesn’t mean that you’re not good at something. Peter makes mistakes all the time, but he’s still a really good Avenger,” you said, patting your boyfriend on the shoulder.
“Yeah, I always make mistakes,” Peter nodded, “but it helps because then I learn from them and fix them, and then I do better. (Y/N) makes mistake too—”
“Don’t lie to her, babe,” you cooed, pinching Peter’s cheek.
“It’s not the same,” Morgan walked over to you and climb into the barstool next to yours, “everyone laughed at me.”
“We always laugh at Peter,” you told her, “remember when he ran into the window?”
A smile crept its way onto Morgan’s face, “Yeah,” she nodded.
“And that’s how Peter learned that we have the windows cleaned every Thursday,” you explained with a smile, “and it was funny.”
“Not for me,” Peter whined from beside you, “I broke my nose.”
Morgan giggled as you began to tickle her, “And he broke his nose,” you laughed, “that’s way worse than messing up read aloud.”
“Yeah,” Morgan agreed, laughing along with you.
“I don’t like how you’ve chosen to console her,” Peter mumbled.
“Aw,” you cooed, placing your hand over Peter’s, “it’s okay, baby. It was just a mistake, right Morg?”
“Mhm,” Morgan nodded.
“And it’s not a big deal or worth being upset over, right?” you nudged Peter.
“Right,” he smiled, placing a kiss on your forehead.
“Okay,” you looked down at your sister, “now run along, Peter and I still have some homework to finish. Dad just got home so he’s probably in the living room watching TV.”
“Okay,” Morgan hopped down from the counter and ran off down the hall.
“You’re really good with kids,” Peter said as he looked at you with admiration.
“So are you,” you smiled at him, “I’m glad I can shit on you to make her feel better,” you joked. Peter laughed and wrapped his arm around you, “I hope I can count on you to let me do that when it’s our kids.”
“Anything for you,” Peter said, pressing a kiss to your lips.
You hummed against his lips, before pulling away, “Don’t try to seduce me when my family is in the other room.”
“Hey,” Peter complained, “if anything, it’s you that does the seducing.”
“I’m about to go to my room to finish my homework,” you pulled away from him, “do you really want that to be the last thing you said before we move to my room?”
Peter quickly shook his head, “No, definitely not. I love you, you’re perfect, you can do no wrong.”
“Aw,” you smiled, “you’re too sweet.”
You began to gather your things as did Peter so you could both head to your room.
“Are you excited to take care of a baby for a week?” Peter asked as you began walking down the hall.
“Kind of,” you shrugged, “I mean, I think it’s honestly gonna be one of the most hand-on assignments ever, which I’m not exactly thrilled about because of our busy schedules. Like, when we really have a baby, it would be when we’re ready and can make time for it. Ideally, at least.”
Peter’s heart skipped a beat when you said “we”, as in, you and him, having children together. His heart was already so full when he looked at you, he couldn’t imagine the love and joy he’d feel when looking at you round with his baby or holding his children in your arms. This project was truly putting many things into perspective for him and forcing him to think about his future.
“Yeah,” Peter agreed, “not to mention the crying. It’s gonna be so loud and nonstop.”
“I didn’t pay attention at all when we went over the different cries in class,” you admitted, “so we might have to try everything to get the doll to shut up.” you joked.
“You mean to get our very loved baby to soothe,” Peter corrected, “doesn’t this thing also record us?”
“No,” you shook your head, “I don’t think that’s allowed. If so, Mrs. Horn is gonna be in for a real treat. More like Mrs. Horny—”
“Also,” you said, “I haven’t told anyone about this project yet, so nobody’s gonna be prepared for this next week of hell.”
“Well, better get to it,” Peter said, “gotta tell your dad he’s gonna be a grandpa,” he joked.
“Yeah and Morgan that she’ll be a little auntie.”
Little did you and Peter know, you were both passing Morgan’s room, whose door was open a crack. The little girl was playing with her dolls when she heard the two of you pass by. “Gotta tell your dad he’s gonna be a grandpa” “Yeah and Morgan that she’ll be a little auntie.”
Morgan set her dolls down and raced to the door to hear more of the conversation, but you and Peter were already down the hall and in your room.
Her little lip began to wobble at the thought of you and Peter having a baby right now. She didn’t really understand what that meant, but she knew that it meant everything would change and that wasn’t something she was prepared for. She stood in the doorway of her room for a moment before she did what any six-year-old would do when they were about to cry; she ran to her dad.
“Daddy! Daddy!” Morgan cried as she ran into the living room, where Tony was half asleep on the couch with Pepper by his side, who had just gotten home from work. Sam, Bucky, and Natasha were also there, just in the other room discussing details for a mission they were going to go on. One that they planned to invite you and Peter to join.
“Huh?” Tony woke with a start as Morgan jumped into his arms, tears streaming down her face.
“What’s wrong, honey?” Pepper looked worriedly as Morgan buried her face into her dad’s shirt. She ran her hand up and down the little girl's back soothingly.
“What’s the commotion?” Sam asked, walking into the room with Natasha and Bucky, “Who hurt our favorite fun-sized Stark?”
“Morg,” Tony tried to calm her down, “what happened? Are you hurt?”
Morgan shook her head quickly, “No,” she cried, “I’m just sad. I don’t want everything to change.”
“What do you mean, sweetie?” Natasha questioned softly.
“(Y/N) a-and Petey are go-gonna have a b-baby,” Morgan sobbed as she spoke, hardly getting the words out, “and t-then everything with change because y-you’ll all be too busy with the new baby!”
Pepper looked up at Tony who looked at Pepper with the same expression of complete confusion.
“Honey,” Pepper cooed, “(Y/N) and Peter are not having a baby. Why would you think that?”
“They said they are!” Morgan yelled defensively, growing more upset now that everyone was looking at her like she was crazy.
Sam looked over and Bucky and Natasha who just shrugged.
“Maybe they said that in the future they might want to have kids,” Natasha said, “but that doesn’t mean that they’re gonna have a baby now.” she tried to explain.
“No,” Morgan shook her head, “they’re having a baby now,” she was very adamant about it.
“Why do you think that, Morg?” Tony asked.
“Because (Y/N) said that she would have to tell me that I’m gonna be an auntie. I don’t want to be an auntie! I want to be the baby.” Morgan began to cry harder, “A-And Peter said that they were g-gonna tell you that y-you’ll be a grandpa! I don’t want you to be a grandpa, I want you to be my daddy still!”
Tony thought about it as Morgan cried in his arms. You and Peter were insanely touchy with each other. He knew for a fact that you and he have already fondued, and he also never had the safe sex talk with either of you yet—part of him hoping that you two weren't stupid enough to not be safe. But the more Morgan cried in his arms, the more he thought about all the times he caught Peter coming out of your room at two in the morning, all the times Peter had set off the security alarms by sneaking into the tower at one in the morning, all the pieces of dirty laundry that belonged to Peter that also got mixed in with yours, and worst of all—all of the times you texted him letting him know that you were going to stay the night at Peter’s.
“Oh my God,” Tony wrapped his arms around Morgan tighter to make her feel comforted, “she’s right. I think (Y/N) might be pregnant.” he looked over at Pepper who was shaking her head at him.
“Tony,” she chided, “don’t feed into this. Morgan is just having a rough day, and you’re exhausted. This isn’t a good topic for discussion right now. If (Y/N) really was pregnant she’d tell us.”
“Maybe she just hasn’t yet,” Tony defended, “I mean, seriously, do you know how many times I’ve caught them doing it.”
“Hundreds,” Bucky nodded in understanding.
“Don’t even get me started on the fact that Peter talks in his sleep,” Sam began to laugh as he mocked him, “oh (Y/N), right there. Oh, so good baby. Feels so go—”
Natasha quickly cut him off with a slap.
“Oh my God,” Tony groaned, leaning his head to rest on the back of the couch, “this can’t be happening. Please tell me (Y/N) didn’t let this happen—”
“Tony stop,” Pepper scolded him, “you’re being ridiculous.”
“Pep,” Tony nodded down to Morgan who was still crying softly in his arms, “Morgan’s not a liar. I’m sure she heard correctly, and those two teenagers,” he pointed a thumb down the hall to where your room was, “they’re like rabbits. All day and night.”
Natasha grimaced, “Okay, I think this is getting a little out of hand,” she said, “let’s just ask them. Calmly.” she added, seeing the way Tony was already on his feet, ready to let you and Peter have it.
“Yeah, yeah,” Tony waved her off, already heading towards your bedroom.
“Did you put that you didn’t want an epidural?” Peter questioned as he read over the document, “doesn’t that like, hurt though?”
“Yeah,” you nodded, “but I’m tough. I mean, I literally got shot in the shoulder last month and still had to haul your ass to safety.”
“Still,” Peter shurgged, “I don’t see why you wouldn’t want to get the epidural.”
“I don’t want to be all drugged up when I meet my baby,” you explained, “like sometimes people are so dopey from the epidural that they don’t even remember the first moments with their child. I just want to feel it all and remember it all, even if it hurts.”
Tony could hear the last part of your conversation as he stood outside your door, now fully believing what Morgan had been saying.
“(Y/N),” he opened the door to your room, seeing you on your bed with your TV remote in your hand as you flipped through movies on Netflix. Peter was at your desk, typing things down on a document Tony could clearly see titled “Parker-Stark Birth Plan”.
“Yeah?” you didn’t even look away from the TV.
“Oh my God,” Tony’s face dropped, “so it’s true.”
“Huh?” Peter looked up from his laptop.
“What’s true?” you asked, now looking over at Tony.
“Morgan was right, you are pregnant,” Tony had this strange expression on his face. It was a mix of shock, disappointment, and anger all at once, “how could you let this happen?” He looked between you and Peter, “You both are the most irresponsible teenagers I have ever met. How can you possibly consider bringing a child into this world together? Did you rub your two remaining brain cells together to come to this conclusion? Did you even think or consider all of your options? How far along are you?”
“What?” Peter looked over at you, “You’re pregnant?”
“No!” you shook your head, “I’m not! Why would you think that?” you looked at your dad.
“Don’t lie to me,” Tony warned, “I can see the guilt all over your faces.”
“That’s Cheeto dust, and it’s only on Peter’s face,” you joked.
“(Y/N), not the time,” Peter said, closing his laptop and wiping his face off with his sleeve.
“You two are ridiculous. You can’t even be serious about this,” Tony threw his hands up in the air, “I can’t believe how irresponsible you two have proven yourselves to be. I put a lot of trust in you guys to be mature and strong leaders and then you go and do something like this—”
“I’m not pregnant!”
“Then why the hell are you making a birth plan and planning to tell me I’m gonna be a grandpa?!”
You and Peter both looked at each other and a moment before bursting out laughing. You were clutching your stomach and slapping your hand onto the bed as you laughed while Peter held his fist over his mouth to muffle his laughter.
“Would someone please explain to me what the hell is going on?”
“It’s for a school project,” you laughed out, “Peter and I are taking care of a robot baby next week and we have to do some paperwork before we get the baby.”
“We wanted to tell you beforehand because it’s a really annoying baby,” Peter explained, “it’s gonna cry a lot.”
“And the birth plan has to reflect our own ideas on what we would want to do, so that’s why we’ve been discussing it.”
Peter opened up his laptop to show Tony the document. After Tony skimmed it, he switched taps to the dropbox where it would be turned in, “It’s for our Child Development class. It’s the final project before the exam.”
“I’m not actually pregnant, dad,” you giggled, still trying to catch your breath from laughing so much, “we’re not that dumb.”
“Yeah, Mr. Stark,” Peter nodded, “I have a strong pull ou—”, you quickly threw a pillow at your boyfriend’s face, cutting him off from saying anything else.
want to join my taglist?
✧tags & moots✧ PERM
@ptergwen @princessofguineapigs @peterbenjiparker @cherrytholland @itsapeterthing @justapurrcat @kelieah @totheblood @celestialholland @hollandcrush @scarletspideyy @blissfulparker @spidernerdsblog @spideyspeaches @andilovetowrite @sinisterspidey @annathesillyfriend @lovelybarnes @white-wolf1940 @arvinsescape @super-not-naturall @allthisfortommy @selfcarecap @misshale21 @morganwilliams23-blog @loveaffaire @tomfknholland @pogueslandia @tomshufflepuff @aayaissa @hallecarey1 @a-daydreamers-day @holland-styles @cloudyfeel @peni5parker @slut-for-steve-rogers @kitkatt18-blog @kitkat2015-blog @bookfrog242 @slutforfics @wildxwidow @kayasholland @prancerrparkerr @petesrparker @arlo-sanders @sxuxgarplxum @peter-parkers-gf @namoreno @andrewgarfields-girlfriend @peter-parkers-cullen-nerd @xoxokiaraaxoxo @hollandsvogue-blog @marvelobsessed10031917 @z3ndaya-blog @sunflowerfive @yunho-leeknow @xxxstormyninixxx @marvelhasmyheart235 @lowkey-holland @blahblahblah-boo @nocturnalms @happyt0exist @kpostedsum @noemiix1 @mischieftom @sophi54 @allazay101 @spideybrina @rqmanoff @rory-cakes @parkerdarling @samaraaaaa-blog @freds-slut @brown-eyed-doe @misslady246 @tonystarksfavoritedaughter @adayasgeorgia @mn-jun @spider-man-stiles-gubler @wildholland @demirunner @marvelobsessedteen @lolooo22 @moniffazictress11 @sleepybesson @evermoresstuff @sweetpeterparker @bradtomlovesya @teenwishes08 @hogwartsmarvelmommy @dracoswhore007 @Elishi03 @beth-gallagher22 @hunnybunimdun @badbatch-simp24 @raajali3 @vibezayn91 @heyyitsreign @iamsherloki-wholocked @itscaminow @blankspaceblankday @denkisclown @spideysloverera @minejungwoo @dirtytissuebox @whoeveniskendall @princessnnylzays @katie-navarro @hollandscherry @demirunner @lucypevensie111-blog @dottirose @tiaamberxx @wh0re4zaynmalik @luvwanda @kinlie-l @cevans-winchester @502spidey @wondergal2001 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @belovedholland @randomstufflol29 @t-lostinworlds @kaitieskidmore1 @milkiane @alisslahey @pandaxnienke @onceuponameli @ju1cyang3l @maximoffbarnesprotectionsquad @indouloureux @d22malfoys @chaoticevilbakugo @princessnnylzays @cmrxac
✧ tags & moots✧ PETER PARKER
@harryhollandsgirlfriend @hollandlover19 @ietss @fuckingbloodyhello @spencereidshoe @idli-dosa @ghostlyspiderversebeautyfire @heartshapedparker @5aturne @say-urie @fitzfiles-blog @marvelobsessedsworld @honeyspidey @bangtansighs @buckybarnesenby
Drunk! Peter and he’s all over reader telling her how he wants to marry her and being handsy lol
hi I hope this okay <3
"I like gardenias," Peter declares, drunk as a skunk and climbing all over you.
You're never letting him go out with his friends again, you decide, brushing the hair out of your sloshed boyfriend's eyes. "Me too," you say.
"Yeah?" he looks exceedingly pleased by this, more pleased than he has any reason to be. He smells like wine coolers.
"Sure. They're pretty."
"And lily of the valley," he adds. "Sweatpeas, jasmine. Oh! Astilbe."
"You've lost me," you say.
Peter wrinkles his nose and works his way further still into your lap, hands at your waist. You roll your eyes at his face, tucked against your chest, very obvious in its position.
"That's fair. We'll ditch the astilbe. Astrantia instead?"
"Baby, what is an astrantia?" you ask, fingers in his hair.
Each time you stroke his hair back from his face his eyes close, like a puppy. It's adorable. He might be drunk and a little messy right now, but he's still your boy. You'd die for this idiot.
"A flower?" he asks, squinting up at you. "I'm talking about a bouquet."
"Oh," you say.
You're distracted from asking why he's discussing bouquets with you at 2AM on the living room sofa when you should both be sleeping by his hands catching yours where it cards through his hair.
He sits up to kiss your fingers, your wrist, small pecks that turn open mouthed that turn nibbling, little wet nips running a course to the sleeve of your T-shirt. He grumbles at being stopped short. You're giggling quietly, endeared and adorned by his affections; you feel like the prettiest girl on earth, covered in his tiny kisses.
"Red velvet?" he asks suddenly, encouraging you to lie back.
"Are you hungry?" you ask, smiling so wide your cheeks hurt.
"What? No." He sounds frustrated. "Do you like red velvet?"
"Why are you asking?"
"For the cake," he says, as if this is obvious. You realise Peter is having a conversation without you and elect to ignore his drunken woes, pulling his face down so you can hug him against your shoulder.
"Maybe we should go to bed, hot stuff."
"Are you kidding? We have so many decisions to make."
"They can definitely wait until the morning, baby," you say warmly.
He starts running his hands over your chest, your arm, your chest again. He doesn't touch anywhere important without asking, a gentleman even now, but the longing in his eyes makes you wish he would sober up for proper kisses.
"They can't wait," he insists. "These are so important. We need to talk about them."
You sigh dramatically, feeling very sorry for yourself, long suffering and tired. "Can we talk about them in bed, Peter?"
"No, you'll distract me."
"I'll be too busy sleeping." He pouts. You burst into laughter. "Babe! It's so late, I waited up for you so we could fall asleep together and you waylaid me with hickeys and a game of twenty questions!" You plead your case.
It's Peter's turn to sigh, though his is more of an indignant groan. "This isn't twenty questions, woman!" You raise your eyebrows, dying of laughter on the inside, and he amends, "My beloved. It's not twenty questions."
"What is it, then?"
He smirks at you, hands on either side of you and his knee between your thighs. You suddenly remember how tall he is and how stern he can be when he's not obliterated by cheap booze.
He leans down to whisper in your ear. "I'm gonna marry you."
"Get off of me," you say, rolling your eyes.
"I'm gonna marry the fuck out of you, and then I'm gonna fuck the marry out of you, and we're gonna have centerpieces made up of a thousand white gardenias and asta- astrav- astantrias!"
"And this has to happen tonight?" you ask, playing along, a feeling of white hot and reverential love blossoming from the centre of your chest.
"If you don't mind!" he almost shouts.
"I want vanilla cake," you say steadily, quietly, reaching your hands up to pinch his red cheeks.
His eyes are wide but he's calmer now he's realised you're on his side. "Good choice," he says, blinking. "What frosting? Buttercream, right? Fondant is for losers."
You giggle until you can't breathe. He drops his head down into your chest, hugs your ribs so tight it aches. You can feel his smile even through your sleep shirt.
I Know That Voice
PAIRING: TASM!Peter Parker x Reader
WORD COUNT: 2k
CONTENT: some douchebag and a spider, comedy and major fluff
NOTES: while I was trying to think of ideas I thought, what if peter’s best friend just wasn’t a total idiot and actually recognized his voice when they met spider-man? what would that be like? so this is what came out of it. I thought it was really funny, hope you enjoy! last fic of 2021 :)
“who knows maybe he’s like, a really ugly dude with a receding hairline or something-”
peter bursts out laughing, shaking so hard he clutches his hand to his chest.
“you seriously believe that’s what spider-man looks like?” he wheezes.
“no- no! I didn’t say that’s what I think he looks like, I just said that could be a possibility!” you laugh.
an hour ago when you came over to peter’s house to study, you had every intention to get straight down to business and start the project you two have together that’s due in a week from now. which was also assigned a week ago. doing projects with your best friend are always difficult, but you guys always manage to get a good grade in the end, since you are the two smartest in the grade, maybe aside from your other friend gwen. but when you mentioned to peter that you were 99% sure spider-man waved at you yesterday, it’s been a whole discussion on what you think he looks like.
“who knows! he could also have no hair, or really bleached hair! or maybe he dresses like a frat boy everyday- or he is a frat boy! just because he’s a hero doesn’t mean he automatically has great fashion sense-” you ramble.
peter looks at you fondly, “I think this is the best conversation we’ve had yet. I can’t wait until-” his eyes widen just a bit, looking like he got caught with something. but then he smiles, and relaxes a bit. unbeknownst to you, he’s actually shocked you haven’t figured out he’s spider-man, because you are practically an FBI agent when it comes to everything, so he’s just waiting for the day you scream at him when you find out. but he’s really loves watching you try to guess, it’s quite fun. “honestly, I can’t wait until the day you figure out he’s like a really handsome dude, because then you’ll have to apologize for ever thinking he’s a really ugly dude-”
“peter, I’m good, but I’m not that good. if spider-man doesn’t want us to know who he is, we’ll never know and we just have to respect that. I don’t know how I’d figure it out, but if I ever did, I’d keep his secret, though I would tell everyone he’s really ugly for fun,” you laugh again, taking a hair clip and pulling your hair back to fix it from when it fell out. while you’re distracted, peter takes a good look at you. he knows you wouldn’t tell anyone, it’s not the reason he hasn’t told you. if he were to tell anyone you’d immediately be the first. the only thing is that you’d be in a hell of a lot more danger if you knew, and he couldn’t ever risk anything happening to you. you guys have been best friends since you were ten years old, he couldn’t ever lose you like that. if it were up to him, you would have been his a long time ago, but spider-man doesn’t really get those opportunities.
you bite the end of your pencil and look at the worksheets you spread out over his bed, trying to focus on one part instead of the whole. you blow a fallen piece of hair out of your face, pushing it behind your ear.
do you know how pretty you are? he wonders. at this moment, you look up, noticing him gazing at you. dropping your pencil, you touch your face.
“what, do I have something on my face?” you ask. he blushes, realizing he got caught.
“n-no.. no! no you don’t, I’m uh... gonna- you know,” he immediately busies himself with his part of the work, very clearly avoiding your eyes again. you smile to yourself, relishing the fact you made him blush. even though it would really suck throwing a long time friendship down the drain if you broke up, it doesn’t stop you from letting your mind wander to the fact of what it would be like if you ever indulged in your desires with peter. you tear your gaze away from, deciding to get to work yourself.
not even a full hour later, peter’s phone buzzes and you look over at him at the desk. he pulls it out and takes a look at it.
“shit- uh, I’m really sorry but I gotta go-” he rushes around the room, picking up his bag throwing it over his shoulder, and hopping around to get his shoes on. “I’ll call you later Y/N, bye!”
“uh, okay? bye-” he kisses your forehead messily and bolts out the door. you sit on his bed, reeling it in that he just kissed you. not that you guys have never shared forehead or cheek kisses before, just that, it seemed so natural and your ever growing crush on him just expanded ten fold. you try not to think about it too much as you gather your stuff up to leave. aunt may wouldn’t be here for another few hours so there was no point in staying. it’s about 5 o’clock, so you thought you’d stop by the library to trade in a few books and get a little bit of your other homework done. there was no point in going straight home since an empty house is always boring, and your own aunt works with aunt may so she wouldn’t be back either.
you hum to yourself as you walk to the library, and when you get there, you spend a couple hours getting your work done. having plugged in your headphones you listen to your music as you do your homework. there aren’t many people in there, just frankie, the sweet old lady who works at the front desk, a couple sitting in the corner reading books, and a guy behind one of the bookshelves about ten feet away from you. so it was a relatively calm night. as you gather up your stuff to leave, you notice the guy from behind the bookshelf hadn’t moved the whole time you were here. hadn’t got anything, hadn’t done anything, just stood there. you try not to panic, not to go straight to the worst conclusion. peter always says you overthink everything and to try and keep yourself calm when you think your spiraling, so you take a deep breath and listen to the peter in your head.
shut up, stop thinking.
you throw your backpack over you shoulder and say bye to frankie, leaving the library without another second thought. you look at your watch and it’s a little after eight. later than you expected, but you try to head home as fast as you can. after you walked about a block, you notice the guy from the library is trailing you a bit away behind you.
shit, I was right you think.
you’re still at least ten minutes away from your apartment, so you walk even faster, clutching the straps of your backpack in tight fists. trying not to look behind you too often to make him aware you know of him, you just speed walk down the path, hoping this night doesn’t take a turn for the worst. when you’re about five minutes away, you take a small peek and don’t see him.
maybe he got bored and left?
a sharp yank on your backpack from your right has you spinning your head in that direction. the same guy pulls you into the dark alley, pulling the backpack off you and pinning you against the cold brick wall.
“HELP! HELP-” you barely get to scream another word out before he’s smacking his hand over your mouth, keeping you quiet as your pinned down. he’s way bigger than you and huge arms that you didn’t notice before. his other hand has a sharp grip on your arm, making you think you’re probably gonna have a bruise.
“shut up, girl, or this could get a lot worse. now just keep quiet-”
“hey man, why don’t you pick on someone your own size, yeah?”
suddenly, a sticky web attaches itself to the guys shirt and yanks him away from you, tearing his tight grip off your arm. you take a shaky breath as you watch spider-man web him to the opposite wall.
“what the f-” the guy doesn’t get to finish as a web gets shot right over his mouth to shut him up. spider-man turns around and looks at you, quiet for a moment before realizing he should probably say something.
“you okay miss-” his eyes scan over you, covering up his obvious look with a cough and a short laugh. “you alright-”
as he takes another step towards you, you step back, throwing a hand up to separate you. he stops, confused.
“it’s okay.. I’m not gonna hurt you-”
I know that voice.
“you’ve got to be shitting me, par-” in two seconds flat your soaring through the air, a tight arm around your waist.
“OH MY GOD-” you scream, chancing a look down, seeing that your probably like a hundred feet in the air. you tighten your arms around his head, throwing you head in the the crook of his neck.
“just hang on-” he says.
“shhh, don’t talk right now.”
“WHA- DON’T TALK? YOU’RE SPIDER-MAN PETE-”
“can you shut up for second?”
“NO- AHHH-” your screaming cuts off as you two land on the top of some building, could be your building for all you know. he softens his grip and you push away from him. he laughs, taking a good look at you with your hair all over the place and a wild look in your eye. you fix it real quick and turn back to him, watching him tear the mask from his head to see those chocolate brown curls you love so much. you open your mouth, but he rushes forward and puts a finger over your mouth.
“okay, just let me explain-”
“do you have ANY idea how much I’m freaking out right now-”
“just calm down-”
“you’re out here every night kicking villain ass and you tell ME to be careful-”
“AND YOU’RE DOING IT IN A SPANDEX SUIT-”
“NOT SO LOUD-”
“no, you LET go of me right this instant-” he grabs your face and pulls you towards him, smashing his lips onto yours, silencing you with a kiss. his hands stay put on your face as your eyes stay wide in shock, taking a second to actually realize that peter is kissing you right now and holy shit this is nice-
he pulls back far too soon, but keeps his hands rested on your face. your hands came up and held his wrists without you even noticing you did that, and you stare at him as he looks at you with his own wild look. you’re both breathing heavily as you both just stand there holding each other, realizing what he just did.
“you kissed me...” you let out a breath, sounding much calmer than you felt.
“I did, yes,” he nods his head, “did you like it?”
“you little shit...” you laugh and pull his head back to your face as you kiss him this time, now catching him off guard as he takes in the fact holy shit you reciprocate his feelings-
you and peter stand on that rooftop for what felt like hours, kissing each other after finally waiting so long.
“so what do you think? am I an ugly dude with a receding hairline?” he asks. you drop your head to his chest laughing.
“I’m gonna tell everyone spider-man is SO ugly-”
“oh so that means you think I’m handsome right? you said you’d say that for fun-”
“god you’re annoying parker.”
after a while, he actually does stop and ask you if you’re alright after remembering what he just saved you from, taking notice of the bruise on your arm, brushing over it softly, but you quickly say that you’re fine and that he needs to start talking right now or you’re gonna throw him in a ditch somewhere for not telling you that he’s spider-man.
“I love you, but you know I will kill you-”
“yeah, yeah, now c’mere and let me kiss you.”