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#tasm!peter x reader
luveline · 11 hours
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jade my heart I’m really feeling Peter parker tonight in this chilis. maybe just Pete listening to r go on about something she likes? Like a book or a tv show and he’s just listening but also so obsessed with her and thinks she’s adorable? I love u! 🫶🏻
ily ty for requesting <3 fem
“It’s a prequel, you know?” 
Peter feels fondness for you pretty much every second of the day, but the way you’re asking without looking at him, and the way you’re laying across his lap so unbothered, he finds himself grinning like a mad man. “I did not know that,” he says. 
You nod up and down with a severe sort of look about you, as though this is of the utmost importance. If Peter doesn’t get on the same page as you soon, he’s not gonna make it. “I can’t believe you’ve never seen the first trilogy. Like, I like you so much, but where the hell have you been?” 
“Where have I been?” he wonders. 
“Anyways, that’s not the point, sorry. They’re complicated movies. You’d like them, though. Next time I’ll bring my DVD’s and we can watch them, if you want to, you’ll really like them, or you’ll really like Natalie Portman, at least. She’s beautiful. And her character is so… complicated, I guess, she’s doomed from the beginning of the narrative and she’s the catalyst for so much but she’s also just… sorry, I’m being totally boring.” 
“Says who?” 
Doesn’t take much more than that to get you rolling again, you want to tell him that badly, “I don’t wanna spoil it anymore because I really think you’ll love them if you watch them, but you’re gonna need to watch the first trilogy to get the emotional impact, and you’ll love them, don’t worry.” 
“I’ll love them,” he agrees, attempting to lean down for a kiss. 
“Wait, is this a shut me up kiss?” you whisper. 
Peter shakes his head as he kisses you, serving for a wobbly but soft press of your lips to his. “Never. Tell me everything about it.” 
You talk until you’re hoarse, literally hoarse, and Peter has to make you a cup of water. His cheeks are hurting from smiling at you. You’ve never looked this cute, not once, not even when he took you to Coney Island and you screamed the house down on all the rides. 
“I think we better go and get those DVDs,” he says. 
“It’s dark out,” you say. 
“We’ll swing.” 
“Isn’t that against your code of ethics?” You sip your drink, pointing at him. “We’ll hear someone who needs help on the way and you’ll drop my extended editions to save them.” 
“I won’t drop anything,” he says. “Come on! Come on, if you’re this excited just talking about it I wanna see how pretty you are when we’re actually watching the movies.” 
You press your smile into a line. “You’re not just humouring me?” 
“I could listen to you talk for hours, baby, but you sound like you did the second time we got off of The Cyclone.” 
You do a spinning, meandering dance into his arms. “If you insist.” 
Your feigned reluctance is adorable. He grabs you in both hands for another misaligned kiss.
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contrarianshiit · 2 days
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tasm!peter parker is the best study buddy. he has an array of snacks, the perfect playlist, and a note-taking method that rivals gwen stacy’s. when you don’t understand something and are starting to panic, he’ll explain it to you with an encouraging tone until you feel confident. he proofreads all of your essays and even writes notes in the margins (because he loves it when you kiss his face off for helping you to get an A).
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weird-is-life · 2 days
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saw that you were open for requests so uhm, oblivious idiots in love w tasm!peter? you know, where both of them definitely have a crush on each other and everyone knows except the two of them so their friends keep dropping hints on other's behalf (cos they know they're both too shy to say it themselves) but it's s frustrating cycle of denial and obliviousness? totally up to you how jt ends :)
have a great day!
Hii lovely, ty for the request💕! Sorry it took so long, but hopefully it's not too bad. Warnings: fluff, oblivious idiots, swear words, like one pet name, use of y/n, mentions of bars(0.6k)
You and Peter are definitely the most oblivious people ever. You friends can't even believe how blind you two are. It's actually pretty embarrassing.
They've been trying to get you two to finally come to the realisation for too long now. So they decide to make a more drastic approach to it. They basically make you two go on a date.
Your friends tell you and Peter that you are all hanging out at a nicer place than a pub for a change and that you should dress nicely.
So you do you put on a nice sundress and Peter puts on a white shirt and black trousers.
You only just realise what exactly is happening when you arrive at the fancy bar, and find only
Peter no sign of your other friends.
"Hi Pete," you greet him a little baffled, "where's everyone?"
"Hi sweetheart," his nickname immediately has you blushing, you go even more red as Peter gets up and hugs you oh so tightly, "I don't think they are coming."
He says it with a guilty face, "what do you mean they are not coming?" You ask him even more confused.
"It's just....-" Peter struggles to find the right words, and you don't know what to make of it.
"What is it?"
"I didn't mean for you to find out like this, I've been trying to gather the courage to tell you myself, "he takes a deep breath," I like you y/n, like more than friends. And I've wanted to invite you to a date for so long, but I guess our-our friends thought it would do me good if they did it for me. I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry, y/n that they made you come here on my account. I totally understand if you want to go, fuck I know I would, " Peter basically blurts this whole confession in one go, and it almost makes your head spin. You can't believe this is happening.
"Are-are you...Do you really mean it?" you ask with a little hope.
Peter gives you a small, defeated smile, "of course, I mean it I wouldn't just joke about something like this. I like you y/n, always have."
"Pete, but I like you, too." Peter's face instantly lights up," I thought our friends did this because of me, I've been a coward as well. I couldn't bring myself to actually tell you the truth. I really like you, Peter. More than just a friend." You both chuckle as you add the last sentence.
Peter suddenly gets up happy as one can be, and offers you his hand. "Do you maybe wanna go somewhere else?"
You grin at him," I thought you'd never ask, I mean gosh, this place is definitely too fancy for us. What were our friends thinking?"
You giggle as Peter leads you out of the fancy bar, but Peter abruptly stops outside, and you almost bump into him.
"I haven't really asked you, have I?" Peter chuckles, "would you like to go on a date? With me? Right now?"
You can't help it, you kiss his cheek, and say, " I'd love to Pete."
And just like that your friends' plan works out. You go on a cute date, and hold hands the whole way to that different location. And maybe, just maybe (he does), Peter works out the courage to kiss you goodbye after he walks you home.
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stvrlitsky · 5 months
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Live, love and stan my jealous fictional boyfriends <3333
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ohcaptains · 1 month
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𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟.
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college! peter parker x fem reader.
18+ only !!! f! receiving oral sex. peter parker has an oral fixation i said what i said. in my spider-man era again.
peter was a weekly visitor at this point. sometimes, it was twice, but never more than three. three was pushing it.
Three said that Peter meant something to you, and you couldn’t have that. No, whatever this was between the pair of you was strictly transactional. It was Peter texting you late at night, the classic, you up? Gracing your screen, and every time, you would pretend to be annoyed.
As if Peter coming around to give you the greatest head of your life was an inconvenience. Tempted, the devil on your shoulder smirking, to type back, Jesus, again? but never doing it. Instead, you wrote: sure.
Still, it plagued your mind. He never asked for anything else.
It was as if he did this purely for himself.
“Oh fuck,” you mewled, clenching down tight. The hand that was wrapped around Peter’s brown curls clutched and tugged, and the unconscious movement earned you a chastised groan. It rumbled through your cunt, and the echo shot to your clit, making you close your eyes and lean back, wet mouth spilling his name into your dorm.
Peter liked hearing you.
Liked seeing you lose your mind with his head between your thighs, your pussy wet and throbbing from his mouth and fingers. It’s why he came around often. Sometimes, he wouldn’t even text, would just knock on your door -- looking sheepish from under his dark curls -- and just. Not. Say. Anything.
His silence was answer enough. You knew what he wanted. Or, needed, as you later figured out, as you saw how red he’d gotten when you told him he couldn’t come around for a bit. When you said something about focusing on exams, he’d come over anyway, whined, shuffled his feet and said, You can do your work, I just gotta…I’ll be quick.
The lack of explanation made your mind swirl. But regardless, you’d let him in and did your work with his head between your thighs. He’d tutored you, too, told you how to solve for x with his fingers inside of you. He’d said, if you let me make you come again, I’ll do your Maths work for the next week. After he’d left, you stared at the scene of the crime in pure silence.
Just…reflecting.
Peter fluttered his tongue over your swollen clit. Focused on swirling it around his tongue in sloppy, wet circles, and the thick desire that swelled between your thighs began to pool at your lower back, forcing you to arch up into it.
“Please,” you wept, even though he was giving you what you wanted. Flat on your back with his deft grip keeping your bare thighs open. It was 8 pm. He’d caught you just after your shower, so the smell of your shampoo and body wash wafted through the air – Lavender and pear.
Peter had spread you open and said you smelled like spring. You’d been far too turned on to comment on it. He grumbled into your cunt, and you managed to work out the word, more? You hummed, too drunk on him and wound tight to verbalise that yes, you wanted more. Wanted him to make you come, and come again, till all you could do was mumble his name and focus on your breathing.
He'd learnt how you liked it. Paid attention, and he was getting full scores as he pushed his tongue flat against your swollen clit and sucked. Your vision went white.
“Oh fuck – ohfuck, Peter—” you squirmed, but Peter was strong, and he held you to the bed with his vice-like grip, wordlessly saying take it take it take it.
He lapped at you, salvia drooling over your cunt and down his chin, soaking the sheets. He was always so careless. In moments like this, that nervous edge that always fluttered around him was gone, replaced by a visceral drive to either please you, or get what he wanted.
The two bled into each other.
His tempo was leisurely, but that didn’t stop the heat from washing over you all at once.
You clamped your thighs around his ears and moaned -- loud, so loud that you were sure the other students on your floor heard.
Still, the ache was erratic, “So good,” you sobbed, and you heard yourself, heard the near primal need in your voice, and the desperation made you embarrassed, made you cover your mouth with your palm and grip the sheets, willing yourself to cool it. 
“Move your hand, or I’ll stop,” he uttered against you, and your clit was so sore that the echo of his words made your eyes roll back. Peter must have seen, as he hummed a laugh, and kissed your inner thigh, “lemme hear you.”
Managing to gain some sense of sanity, you blearily blinked down at him, but all sense of stability you thought you had was wiped away when you saw Peter had his hand stuffed down his pants.
You dropped back onto the bed and sobbed.
You knew he got off on this, but Jesus Christ, you’d never seen that before.
“Gotta be kidding me,” you breathed, and Peter must have understood what you were referencing, as he buried his reddening face into your inner thigh. He let out a breathy chuckle, “’ M’sorry,” he mumbled, “usually I wait till I get home, but you’re just so hot.”
You had to stay completely still, or you’d burst. Usually, I wait till I get home?
Peter moved his face and began nuzzling the wet folds of your pussy. He bumped his nose against your clit, and you quietly choked.
Peter hummed, “couldn’t help myself.”
You figured he did something like that, but the admission made your thighs tense. You pictured him stumbling home – cheeks still wet with you – and tugging his pants down, quickly shoving his hands into his boxers and taking hold of his aching cock. Did he whimper when he came? Or was he silent, all tremors and low grunts? No. He definitely whimpered.
He was far too pretty to stay quiet.
The sudden desire to kiss him swept over you.
Reaching down, you tugged at his curls, wordlessly motioning him to move. When he did, you briefly saw the red of his cheeks and wet of his nose before you kissed him, all tongue, and tasted yourself on his pink lips.
Peter melted into you. Huffed your name like a sigh, and the sheer tenderness of it had you wrapping your legs around his back and pressing your bare cunt against his jeans.
He was rock-hard. Tentatively, you ran your nails over his chest, and dipped low, pressing between his thighs, cupping his bulge, and gently squeezing. Peter wept.
“Oh fuck,” he sobbed, as desperate as you imagined. With one hand in his hair and the other on his cock, you continued to kiss him, until the ache between your thighs became too much to bear.
“Make me come,” you whispered, “and I’ll put you in my mouth.”
Peter had never moved so fast in his life.
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delicate-dorothea · 7 months
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The Last Time
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Summary: Peter's on the verge of losing you after disappointing you yet again.
masterlist
He didn’t show, the night was over and Peter was nowhere to be found. 
You tried your best to mask your disappointment with a tall face as all the attendees started to trickle out of your college’s art exhibit, a handful of them congratulating and complimenting you on your artwork as they passed you. 
It wasn't until you saw May walking towards you with a sympathetic look on her face that you felt your facade falter, “I’m so sorry darling,” she said as she brought you into a hug squeezing you. 
“It’s fine, May. Thank you for coming, I really appreciate it.” You give her a sad smile pulling away from her. You take a deep breath, “May…I hate to do this but do you think I could get a raincheck on dinner tonight? I just want to go home.”
There’s a visible look of sadness on her face but she nods, “Of course you can, it’s beautiful by the way,” she says, angling her body to face your painting. 
You mimic her actions, giving your painting a one over, “Thanks, I wasn’t sure about letting them display it when my art professor–she's the director of the exhibit asked. But I’m glad I did, a lot of people seemed to like it.” 
“I can see why!” She exclaims. 
Just as you were about to speak, the voice of your professor cut through all the chatter, “Ladies and gentlemen the art exhibit is now closing! Please make your way to the exit!”
You motion for her to follow you as you head to the doors. “How are you getting home? I could give you a ride,” she questioned. You shake your head, "I don’t think I can be around a Parker right now, at least not without wanting to cry.” 
She frowns upon hearing your words, “Oh.” You push and hold the door open for her, “I know this is an unfair thing to ask of you but can you tell Peter I don’t want to hear from him anymore?” 
May freezes the second she makes it outside, fully processing what you just said, “I’m sure he’s sorry–” She’s trying to save him, you both know she is. “I’m sure he is but I’m not interested in hearing his poor excuse of an apology. He knew how important this was to me and he said he’d be here, but he’s not. There’s only so many times you can let a person disappoint you, May.” Your eyes well with tears as you think back to telling him about being a part of the exhibit and how he added opening night to the calendar on his phone as well as the one that hung in his room, even going as far as drawing a heart around the square.
Cars start to whizz by as the traffic light turns green and you let out a defeated sigh, opening your arms to hug her goodbye, “It’s getting late and I don’t want to miss the train, you should head home too.” This time she hugs you tightly, “Give me a call when you get home, alright?”
You nod your head in response, “Thank you for coming, it means a lot to me. Have a goodnight and drive safe, okay?” Her hold on you gets even tighter, mumbling a goodnight to you before releasing you. 
She stands still and watches you disappear down the street before pulling her phone out, attempting to reach Peter herself and when she's unable to, she leaves him a devastating voicemail, a voicemail he wouldn't hear until thirty minutes later when he was stood in front of ESU’s now dark and empty art center. 
“...She said doesn’t want to hear from you anymore and honestly? I don’t blame her. She watched the door all night for you. All night, Peter, all night! She looked so heartbroken. She was trying her best to hide it but that look on her face, it was soul-crushing. I think this is it for you, ‘there are only so many times you can let a person disappoint you’ those were her exact words. She’s disappointed in you and frankly so am I, I didn’t raise you to act like this. You fucked up big time, there’s no point in sugarcoating it. I adore that girl and I know you do too but you’re losing her…”
Peter could feel the panic rising in his chest as he listened, the thought of losing you made his stomach churn. There's a slight shake in his hand as he presses his phone to his ear, his breath is caught in his throat as he waits for the calls to start ringing, praying you hadn’t blocked him. A sigh of relief escapes his mouth when it does but when the rings halt and his phone buzzes with a text message from you, he could feel all the air leave his lungs. 
Sorry, I can’t talk right now.
Peter rushes to text you back; I’m so sorry honey. 
He can see that you read his message but when you don't respond, he sends you another, and another, and another.  
May left me a voicemail 
I know I fucked up 
And that I keep fucking up
But I can fix it 
Can we please talk? 
A spark of hope ignites within him as he watches the three dots appear on the screen but the feeling dwindles once he reads your message; It’s late, I’m tired and I don't want to hear or see you, please just leave me alone.  
Peter goes to respond but another message appears in the chat informing him that you had silenced your notifications. His eyes never leave the screen, reading and rereading all the texts you’d sent him throughout the night, heart getting heavier and heavier with every message. He knows he should just listen and let you be but he goes against your wishes and sends one last message, I love you, I’m sorry.
—————————————
The sound of your phone ringing slices through the noise of the hand mixer you were using and the crinkles of the paper bag your cat was playing with. You glance at the screen, eyes scanning the contact name before turning off the mixer, answering the call, and bringing it up to your ear, “Hello?” 
“Hello sweetheart, how are you feeling today?” Your elderly neighbor’s voice comes through clearly on the other end. A sigh leaves your lips, “Better, better than yesterday at least, I’m trying to keep myself occupied…giving baking a shot.” She hums in response, “Listen dear…I hate to be the bearer of bad news but he’s here.” 
Your eyebrows knit together, “What do you mean?” 
“That boy of yours. I’ve been watching him, he’s been standing at the door for the past half an hour.” You walk into the living room and over to the window, peeking through the blinds and sure enough there he was standing in front of the door of the duplex with his head hung low. “Do you want me to shoo him away? My grandson left his toy gun here the other day, you know the one with the foam bullets…I’ll take him out for you, sweetheart.” 
Despite being amused by her words, a frown forms on your face, “Stand down, Mrs. Temple. I’ll handle him.” 
“Alright, but if he gives you any trouble just let me know. I’ll give him hell.” Her soft voice now stern, “I know you will, remember how you asked me for his number last night cause you wanted to cuss him out?” You can hear her let out a huff on the other end before exclaiming, “He made you cry! I should go out there and jam my knitting needle through his eye.” 
“That won’t be necessary, I’ll just tell him to leave and everything will be fine. And oh! Before I forget, do you like funfetti cake? I’ll bring it up for you and Mr.Temple a few slices when it's done.” 
“We’d love that!” 
The two of you exchange goodbyes and end the call. You take a second to collect yourself, taking a deep breath before opening the window, “What are you doing here?” 
His head darts up, “Honey,” the sound of his voice catches the attention of your cat, who jumps on the windowsill to see him. He turns his entire body in your direction, digging his hands further into the pockets of his jacket, “Can we talk, please?” 
You shake your head, “I meant what I said, Peter, I don't want to see you. Just go home.” 
He opens his mouth to protest but you’re quick to shut the window and draw the blinds close. You walk back into the kitchen, glancing over your shoulder expecting to see your cat following close behind but much to your surprise, he’s waiting by the door. The sight made your heart hurt, “Snaps… I’m sorry buddy but he’s not coming.” 
—————————————
Disaster. 
That’s exactly how you’d describe the state of your kitchen. Your sink was piled high with mixing bowls and baking pans but it was all worth it once you added the final dusting of rainbow sprinkles to the frosted cake. 
“Okay, Snaps, the cake is done, emergency chocolate chip cookies are in the oven. How do we feel about Coming to America tonight?” You ask aloud as you slice into the cake. 
You look up at him perched on the windowsill, head poking around the blinds to watch the rain pour outside.“I’m going to run upstairs, you stay he–” you’re cut off by your ringtone, “Hey Mrs. Temple, I was just about to bring some cake up for you guys.” 
“He’s still here, dear.” Her words made you feel uneasy, “He came back?” 
“I’m not sure he ever left….he’s just sitting there.” You rush over to the window, pulling the blinds back, squinting your eyes trying to catch a glimpse of him on the stoop. “Oh my god! Can I call you back?” You didn't wait for her reply before ending the call. 
You can feel your chest tighten as you leave your apartment and make the short walk to the building’s entryway. You inhale sharply before opening the door, to reveal Peter scrabbling to his feet. The rain mercilessly beats against his already drenched skin, he looks completely exhausted. “Hi,” his voice comes out as a whisper. 
“Are you out of your fucking mind? Do you have any idea of how sick you'll get?” You scold him, stepping aside and opening the door wider for him to enter. 
“I’m sorry,” he croaks out as he follows closely behind into your apartment, you ignore his words and the way Snaps starts to nuzzle against Peter’s leg only to pull away when he feels the cold and wet fabric of Peter’s jeans, “Go warm up in the shower, I’ll bring you a towel and some clothes,” you say walking into your bedroom. 
You search through your drawer for something warm, eventually settling on a pair of flannel pajamas bottoms he’d left at your place for the nights he slept over, the sweatshirt you’d slept in the night before, and a pair of your fuzzy socks he stole from you. 
You use your knuckle to knock on the bathroom door, “Peter? I’m coming in,” you said, turning the handle. “No, wait!” Peter calls out but he’s too late, you’ve already seen it. His suit. 
“What the fuck!” Your eyes go wide as you scan the spider symbol on his chest. 
Peter freezes, paralyzed by fear, this was not how you were supposed to find out. “It’s not what it looks like!” he blurts out, voice laced with panic. He watches your shoulder slump back and your eyes well with tears, you’ve never felt worse. 
“Please, don’t cry. I can explain–” the sound of the oven’s timer going off causes you to shift your focus, shoving the towel in his hands. “I laid some clothes out for you,” was all you said before hurrying towards the kitchen. 
—————————————
You were sprawled out on the couch, staring at the ceiling trying to make sense of it all. Every moment you spent with Peter replaying over and over again in your head, mentally berating yourself for not piecing everything together sooner. All the cuts and bruises you’ve cleaned and iced, the dates he missed ‘cause he ‘lost track of time’, every question he’d answer vaguely or just flat out avoid, every question you wanted to ask but held your tongue afraid you would come off as pushing or invasive and he’d leave. 
The sound of the bathroom door opening and closing followed by Peter’s faint footsteps and a soft meow causes you to shut your eyes, bracing yourself for the impending conversation to be had. You listened intently as his steps got closer and closer until they stopped right in front of the couch, you had a feeling he was standing over you and your suspicions were confirmed when a droplet of water falling onto your forehead caused you to open your eyes. 
The sight of Peter cradling Snaps like a baby immediately comes into view, “Sorry about that,” he says, shifting your cat to support him with just one arm, and using his now free hand to wipe your forehead. 
“It’s fine,” you mumble, sitting up and scooting over, patting the spot next to you. 
An awkward silence falls over the room, neither of you not knowing where to begin, “Thank you for doing this– for letting me in.” Your leg bounces as you try to work up the nerve to finally address the elephant in the room, opening your mouth to speak but shutting it when no words seem to come out until, “So…you’re Spider-Man?”
Peter swallows thickly, “I am.” 
“Oh,” you say nervously fiddling with your fingers, “I guess it makes sense.” 
“It does?”
You shrug your shoulders, “The longer I think about it…yeah. I’ve always assumed that whoever was under the mask was too smart and too courageous for their own good, no one fits that description better than you. And then there's every single injury you’ve ever had ever, no one trips and falls that many times, Pete.” 
He was just about to say something until he hears you, whispering to yourself under your breath, “I can’t believe I dated a superhero.” 
“Dated?” He repeats back your use of past tense only adds to the unsettling feeling in his chest, you were giving up on him and he deserves it. 
You hum in response, “I know May told you what I said– about there only being a certain amount of times you can let someone disappoint you, and you are way past your limit. I think it’s better if we both just accept this is how things were meant to be. Look you can stay tonight but I think it’s best that in the morning all we are is strangers.” Your voice wavers at the end and it makes his heart plummet. 
Tears pool in his eyes, “S-strangers?” 
He shakes his head repeatedly, “No, no, no. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go–”
You furrow your brows at him, “And how exactly was this supposed to go?”
He hangs his head, glancing down at the cat looking back at him, Snaps stretches his paw out to touch his face, “We were supposed to talk it through, I went to the show- I bought flowers, they’re in my bag they're probably ruined now but I have them! I was going to tell you about being Spider-Man but then you weren’t there so I came here.”
“Me knowing about Spider-Man doesn’t really change anything.” 
“It doesn’t?”
“I guess It does-” he picks his head up as the words leave your mouth but it is quick to drop it again when you finish your speaking, “-just not in the way it counts.” 
“Oh,” he can feel his entire body deflate, “What does that mean?” 
 You let out a defeated sigh, “It means I understand why you were always running late or missing dates completely, and why you’ve shown up here sometimes looking as good as dead.” 
“But…?” 
“But it changes nothing about us, our relationship has never been a priority–”
He’s quick to cut you off, “That’s not true.” 
“But it is, Peter. You’ve had a million chances to prove otherwise and you haven’t. I love you-”
“I love you too.”
“-but I can’t keep doing this, I don’t have it in me anymore,” you wipe away the tears that start to roll down your cheeks. “You just aren’t reliable, Peter.”
“What if I could be reliable? Give you stability?” 
“Peter we’ve already been down this road before–” 
“It’s different this time,” he insists, “I haven’t been able to balance being me and being Spider-Man, I’ve lost so much because being Spider-Man has completely dictated my life and I was fine with it because all heroes have to make sacrifices but none of it is worth it if it means I lose you too.” 
Snaps wiggles out of Peter’s arms and onto the floor, giving Peter the chance to grab ahold of your hands, “I can be both and also give you stability, you deserve better and I’ll do everything I can to be better. I don’t want to lose you, Honey, I don’t. Please, let me show that I can be reliable–that our relationship is a priority.” 
Your silence is deafening, you do your best to avoid Peter’s pleading eyes as you weigh options,
“Parker, I swear to fucking god you better pray your lucky number is a million and one because this is the last time I’m ever doing this with you.”
He perks up immediately, eyes glistening as he processes what you said. His mouth opens but you start to speak before he’s able to get a word out, “If we’re doing this then there's a few rules I’d like to set and they’re all non-negotiable.” 
“Lay it on me.”
“Date night. Twice a month, no expectations. I don’t care if we go out or stay in, I just want a couple of nights off with my boyfriend. You flake, you’re out. Got it? ”
“Got it.”
“Wait, that made me feel like a bitch, to clarify that doesn’t apply to serious situations. I’m not going to stop you from helping or anything like that, I just want two nights out of the month reserved specifically for us.”
“I knew what you meant,” Peter reassures. 
“Could you call or text me when you get home after you’re done with Spider-Man stuff? I’d like to know you’re safe.” 
“Consider it done. Can I add a rule of my own?” 
“Go for it.” 
“Can you leave one of the windows in the bedroom unlocked for me? Since you know now I figured I could come over right after patrol and skip the whole ‘changing in an alley somewhere’ part.” 
“I can do that.” 
You stand up and start walking to the kitchen, “This isn’t a rule, it's a favor but could you run this up to Mrs.Temple? And before you ask, yes you can have some.” 
Peter trails behind you, eyes sparkling when he finally sees the baked goods on your countertop. “God, I love you,” he says, giving you a wet kiss on the cheek.
—————————————
Peter’s knuckles knocked against the door, he could hear shuffling around the room before the door opened revealing Mrs. Temple with a big smile plastered on her face. 
“Oh it’s you,” she says, her smile faltering. 
He holds out the plastic cake dish for her to take, “Uh yeah, Y/n’s asked me to bring some cake up for you guys.” 
“Mmmhm…I heard what happened,” she eyed him up and down, “and by the looks of you being here, I assume my sweet girl forgave your ass?” 
Peter nods, “She did–” 
“We’ll I’m glad things worked out,” she steps closer, poking him in the chest with her finger, “But if you ever make my baby cry again, it will be the last thing you ever do.” She takes the dish from his hand, her next words were lower than a whisper, “I know a guy.” 
“Well, you and Y/n have a goodnight, tell her I’ll give her a call in the morning,” she adds before retreating back into her apartment.
“I don't think I’ve ever been more terrified of an elderly woman than I was just now,” were the first words to leave his mouth the second he returned to your apartment. 
“Oh god, did she threaten to shoot you?” 
His eyes bulged out of his head, “She has a gun?” 
You wave his question off, “No it's just a Nerf gun.”
His mouth forms into an ‘O’, “so the implication that she could put out a hit on me was a bluff?” 
“No, she really does know a guy, he’s nice.” 
—————————————
Extra:
Your head rested against Peter’s chest, the soft thumping of his heart mixed with his hand rubbing your back made your eyelids feel heavier. 
“Pete?” 
He grunted in response. 
“Why didn’t you go home? When I told you earlier?” 
“Home is where the heart is.” 
You pretend to gag at his statement, “That was too cheesy, even for you.” 
“It’s not cheesy, it's the truth and it’s endearing.” 
4K notes · View notes
webslingingslasher · 10 months
Note
Hi can I ask for a blurb where Peter accidently hits the reader while playing or something like he sometimes forgets about his super strength but fluff at the end please 🥺.
this got away from me but this was so fun and cute to write!
“I kinda want a black eye.” 
Your boyfriend slowly lowered the bag of peas on his left eye, his elbow dropped daringly, forcing you to look at the dark purple hue. 
“Oh, really?” 
You nod, “it looks gnarly but it’d be cool to have one.” 
“Baby, my heartbeat is currently taking place from my eyeball. You don’t want one.” 
Stretching across the space on the couch you raise Peter’s hand back up so he can ice the bruise some more, it does look painful. 
“I think if you loved me you’d give me one.” 
Peter took a second to see if that sentence would resonate with you but it hadn’t. 
“We should go to the women's shelter and spread that knowledge.” 
You scoff, “they weren't asking for it, Peter. I am.” 
Your boyfriend lowered his temporary ice pack and reached a hand out, his thumb rubbed under your eye, you almost thought he was thinking about it. Almost. 
“I’d never. I would, however, patch you up if you ever got one.” 
“Do you have a friend that could-” 
“No.” 
—------------------------------------
Oh FUCK did your eye HURT. 
It was on a level ten throb level, it felt like a ring stretching to your eyebrow and nose. You couldn’t even open it, all you could do was press your hand to it and try and stop the pressure from building, it didn’t work. 
You were able to blink it open just enough to be blinded by the living room light, you’ve never been so light sensitive. Squeezing it shut you winced, you tried to be understanding and calm; it was an accident after all. But the pain was spreading all over your face and you had a target right on the corner of your right eye, and it hurt. 
If your right eye could open it’d be shedding tears too, you had one continuance stream coming from your left eye. 
Your voice bubbles with pain, “petey, it hurts.” 
Your boyfriend couldn’t even breathe right now, he had hurt you. The one thing he swore he would never, could never do, and he did it. Panic flooded his body, panicked he’s caused serious damage, panicked you’d be scared of him, panicked you’d dump him, panicked your dad would come curbstomp him. 
“It hurts so bad,” he knows you’re calling out for him, he knows you need him, but all he could replay was the ‘whack!’ in his head. It wasn’t gentle in the slightest, you whipped away from him with a hiss, your hand immediately covering your eye. You had been okay at first but after a minute had passed it became nearly unbearable.
Peter knows how bad a black eye hurts, and he just gave you one. 
His short, barely there breaths start to stutter.  
And suddenly Peter couldn’t see because his vision was muddled by tears, he tried to blink them back but they ran. He can’t remember the last time he’s cried, but this brought him to his knees. He never wanted to punish himself more than in that second. He should’ve been quicker, he should’ve known you were behind him, he has those goddamn senses and they did nothing in that moment. 
“Peter!” A desperate cry for attention, you don’t know what to do, it hurts more than you could imagine. 
You look up at your boyfriend still standing in shock where he jumped away from you after hitting you directly in your eye. A wrestling battle, you had tried to take him down after he’d pinned you three times. In an effort of a sneak attack you crawled up the couch and tried to jump on his back where he sat on the floor. You dived and at the last moment his hand… well you don’t know what he was trying to do but it connected hard to your cheekbone. 
Your back hit the couch and you held your hand as you hissed and groaned in hurt, Peter scrambled up and backed up behind the coffee table, as if he was scared to be around you.  
He’s crying, your boyfriend’s crying. You’ve been punched and he’s crying. 
“I’m.. I’m sorr.. Fuck.” Peter snaps out of it, you need him. He crosses to the couch in two steps, his hand cupping your cheek. It makes everything in him deflate when you flinch as he touches you, he bites his bottom lip to stop a sob. “Baby, I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” 
His heart hurts as you cry, his thumb taps at your hand covering the damaged eye. The one he caused. 
“Let me see it, please?” Peter said it like a question, like he’d ever be lucky enough to have that privilege. 
You sob, “it hurts.” 
Peter blinks, more tears. He can’t believe he’s crying over this, he also can’t believe he hit his fucking girlfriend. 
“I know, I know it does, baby. Please let me see it.” 
You choke in air to stop your crying, it works. You slowly lift your hand off your eye, it’s not throbbing as much but the pressure has inflated tenfold and you couldn’t open it if you tried, it was swollen shut. You tried to gauge a reaction out of him, to see how bad it is. You forgot your boyfriend had the world’s best poker face. 
Peter wanted to curl up into a ball when he saw the damage. 
It was bruising, and swollen and you couldn’t open your eye and it was all his fault. 
His fault, his fault, his fault. 
If he was normal, if he was a normal boyfriend, this wouldn’t have happened. A normal teenager doesn’t have the strength to hold a ferry or stop a runaway bus, he does. And he used that strength on you. 
His powers, his abilities, his strength.
His fault, his fault, his fault. 
“You need ice.” Is all that could come out. A wince wraps over your face when you nod, you try to sit up and groan. “Everything hurts. How do you do this? Pain has to affect you differently, right?” Peter ignored you as he backed away, you don’t think he’s ever been so aware of his surroundings and actions. 
He shouldn’t be getting ice, he shouldn’t be putting it in a plastic bag and wrapping a rag around it, he shouldn’t be grabbing you tylenol extra strength, he shouldn’t be icing your black eye he caused. 
His fault, his fault, his fault. 
It scared you how quiet he was, the accidental punch was just that. You weren’t upset at him or scared he would do it again, you were scared how odd he was acting. He was strangely quiet and standoffish, when he came back to you with ice and pills you watched him think about holding the bag to your eye but stopped and put it in your hand. 
He shifted his weight and looked at the couch, he stepped back and sat on the coffee table. 
Peter cried and was quiet and standoffish and scared to touch you. He was terrified of himself, you may be physically hurt but he was emotionally broken, his one major thing washed down the drain. Accident or not he gave you a black eye, and it was tearing him up inside. 
You hummed when ice hit the hot skin, suddenly it didn’t hurt. 
“Am I right, super high pain tolerance?” 
It’s like you broke through a wall, Peter looked up at you like he just found out you were in the room. 
“I hit you.” 
You would’ve rolled your eyes if you could’ve. 
“That’s a little dramatic.” 
Peter shook his head, upset you weren’t upset. 
“I hit you hard, I hurt you. I…” His hand pulled at his curls so hard you grit your teeth. “I fucking hit you,” he whispered it, like his own mind couldn’t wrap it around. 
He doesn’t pull out the fuck word often. 
You thought about reaching out for his hand, but you think that’d made things worse. 
“I’m not scared of you, petey. It was an accident.” 
“I swore i’d never hurt you, that I would never hit you and I didn’t-” 
“Mean it.” You cut him off, “you didn’t mean it.” 
Peter rubbed at his jaw and blinked, you saw tears puddling and you wanted to do nothing more than hold him. He couldn’t stop thinking about it, you lowered the bag of ice from your eye prepared to switch seats. He wouldn’t let you. 
“Ice.” Cold and hard, like you had no other option. You didn’t question him, you followed instructions. 
“Remember when you asked me to give you a black eye months ago?” 
It was a joke. Sure, you saw a tiktok with a girl who had one and you couldn’t deny it looked a little cool. Then seeing one on Peter the same night you couldn’t shake it. You were just playing around, it’s not like it was that serious. 
“I was joki-” 
“I told you I'd never, and I did. I hit my girlfriend and gave her a black eye.” 
Disgust. That’s what it was. He was disgusted with himself. 
You sat up straight, your lip curled up. 
A black eye? Sick.
“Wait, really?” 
Peter looked up at your excitement, it came from nowhere. 
“You gave me a black eye? I have a black eye right now? For real, for real?” 
This wasn’t a cute or funny thing, and he won’t let you make it be one. 
He hit you.
“This isn’t funny, I hit you and you’re happy you got a black eye?” 
“Pete, I forgive you. And not just cause you gave me a black eye, because it was an accident and you didn’t mean to and you’re obviously extremely remorseful.” 
“But I-” 
You reached out for his hand, “forgive yourself. You forgive yourself.” 
It wouldn’t be instant, until your eye healed, which would be at a much slower rate than him, he wouldn’t be able to fully forgive himself. 
“No more wrestling.” 
You scoff, “no more sneak attacks, how about that?” 
He shook his head, “I don’t want this happening again.” 
“If the situation was reversed would you want me to hold it against myself?” 
Peter scoffed, “absolutely not, but it wouldn’t hurt me like it does you.” 
“So you do have a super high pain tolerance.” 
He snapped and ripped his hand from yours, “yes, I do have a super high pain tolerance. I also have super strength and give my girlfriend black eyes.” 
You held your hand up, the other one slightly freezing from the cold but you were too scared to take it off. 
“First off, plural. Second, please stop. You’re making me feel bad, I’m really okay and I’m not mad and I forgive you a thousand million percent.” 
Peter inhaled sharply, he has to believe you. He’s more shook up than you are and he guesses he should agree with you, you were the hurt one. If you forgive him he could try and do the same.
“I think you need to give me a black eye to even it out.” 
You gasp like your offended at his words, your hand lays over your heart. 
“I’d never!” 
Your boyfriend ran his tongue over his teeth and gave you a dead stare, his hands pushed him off the coffee table. His words grumbled, “toxic.” 
8K notes · View notes
parkerpeter24 · 3 months
Text
quiet temptations
pairing ➳ tasm!peter parker x fem!reader
word count ➳ 2.3k
warnings ➳ SMUT. characters are 18+ and MINORS DNI. this contains depictions of fingering, oral (m recieving). fluff, peter being sweet but also horny-
summary ➳ you’re awfully quiet but peter can’t seem to take that.
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“is everything alright?” peter mumbled as he laid beside you. your back was to him, his arm wrapped around you, “you’re not talking.”
the bed you were laying on was warm, a thin blanket over the sheets because you got extra cold during the winters and a quilt that covered you and peter both. your fingers danced against the wall adjacent to the bed, feeling the cold plaster contrasting peter’s own fingertips that danced on your waist, under your sweatshirt.
“you gonna talk?” he placed a kiss on your hair that was loosely tucked behind your ear, making it fall over your eyes. chuckling when he heard you groan and push the lock of hair back in its original place, “so.. no?”
you sighed softly.
“that’s alright.” peter responded, feeling as if he was just talking to himself now, “we don’t need to talk if you don’t want to.”
the sound of your hum was accompanied by peter’s hand gliding under your sweatshirt and caressing your stomach. he was careful, as if you were made up of glass, watching out for any signs of refusal on your face but your features looked solemn, unchanging.
he sighed, not being able to hold in his concern, “alright, just nod if everything is okay…”
he waited for you and surely you did nod after a few seconds, making peter’s worries dissipate.
“what’s gotten you so quiet?” he tried to get you to talk, his fingers taking a detour from trailing upwards, making contact with the elastic hem of your sweatpants– which originally belonged to him, “‘cause one way or another, i’m gonna hear that pretty voice.”
you felt your face heat up but peter still didn’t notice any change in your expression. if he couldn’t see the blinking of your eyes and sense changing breathing pattern, he’d have assumed you were asleep.
“at least tell me you want this.” he mumbled into your neck, pressing his lips against your exposed skin.
“yeah.” you mumbled and peter wasted no time in sliding his hand under the fabric of your lower, arm holding your body against him. you let out a soft breath as his fingers travelled lower. his middle finger slid your panties to the side before making contact with the skin. he pressed soft kisses to your neck before his nimble finger delved into your folds.
a leg pressed between both of yours, parting your thighs as he nestled a warm hand against your sex.
you let out a soft sound, clutching onto the quilt. his finger sank deeper until he found the earliest bit of your arousal and pulled it out, wanting to spread the wetness everywhere.
his finger travelled up to your clit, circling around it and you bit your lip when he fucked it back into you, knuckle deep. he groaned softly, loving the way your muscles almost clenched his finger.
he repeated his actions a few more times until you couldn’t hold back the soft needy moans that he beyond waited to hear. you felt his teeth sink into the skin of your neck before he sucked that spot, soothing the sting from the bite.
you moaned when he curled his finger, trying to search for a spot that would make your sounds louder. his finger dipped into you inch by inch every time, showing he was in no hurry.
peter’s arm was strongly keeping you pressed against himself as you started to arch your back. he could tell you were getting needy but he wished to hear something from you– even though he was loving the musical moans you were letting out.
he pressed his ring finger into the mix, adding it when he pumped them into you the next time. his face pressed further into your hair when you tried to get away. he could tell you needed more– you were writhing, trying to grind your hips into his already hard cock– but he kept going at the slowest pace he could. one brush of his fingers against your most intimate spot and your lips parted in a loud gasp.
you tried to arch your back which only led to peter’s arm pressing harder against your abdomen. his lips were pressed together, letting out soft hums which accompanied each one of your moans as if encouraging you.
he pulled out both his fingers, fucking in again and then back out and in again until it became a faster rhythm. squelching sounds filled the mostly silent room as his leg parted yours even further.
peter rolled his fingers into you continuously, the heel of his palm nudging against your clit which had your eyes rolling to the back of your head, “pete-” you gasped, “m-more.”
the desperation in your voice made peter grind into your ass. his fingers fucked you faster, holding your legs apart, curling them into you just right until you were jutting your hips, chasing your high.
“good girl.” peter mumbled, “keep it up, baby.”
his fingers moved continuously in and out of you. he could tell you were close with the way you clenched his fingers, however before the coil in your abdomen burst, his fingers pulled out of you, a soft wet sound following it– completely opposite to the loud whine that left your mouth.
“oh my god- why’d you stop?!”
“now you wanna talk?” he mumbled into your hair.
you felt your cheeks heating up further than they were. you hid your face into the pillow, but peter wasn’t letting that happen. he tugged at your chin with his free hand, “oh, baby. trust me, i want you to cum.”
you whined, biting your lip softly at his dirty words. you wondered if peter came prepared for this because no other day would you have expected such filthy words escaping his lips. he’d never done so before in all the times you two were intimate.
he turned you around gently, slowly pressing his forehead against yours as he brought up his fingers to his own lips, sucking them clean. he moaned at the taste as his tongue swirled around the digits, sending a wave of shivers up your spine and arousal to your core.
the second his fingers were released from between his soft, warm lips, your own pair replaced them, tasting remnants of yourself on his lips. you moaned softly, pressing your chest up against his.
“want you.” you breathed out heavily.
peter only shook his head, “not until you tell me what’s with the silence.”
“huh-” your brows pulled together in confusion, “you’re really not gonna-”
“first you tell me what happened.” he pecked your lips once, twice, and a few more times.
you sighed, pursing your lips as you tried to formulate what to say to him– or rather how.
when peter saw you struggle, opening your mouth and then closing it, he brushed a thumb against your cheek, “it’s okay, you should take your time.”
you nodded, feeling the warmth of his hand transfer to your cheek as your eyes met. his chocolate brown eyes swam with what you could identify as pure adoration.
“until then…” he mumbled, leaning in to kiss you.
soft at first, it escalated when he brushed his tongue past your lips, quickly finding yours in a slow yet passionate dance. peter pressed you against the mattress, handling the covers to stay over your bodies.
he wasted no time in moving his lips to your neck, hands going to hold your thighs apart as his thumb now brushed against your clothed thigh, kneading gently as his teeth nipped at your collarbone.
you gasped softly, letting him do as he pleased with you. as you held the back of his head with one hand, the soft, brunette sea of hair engulfed your fingers.
peter moved his hands to the hem of your sweatshirt, wasting no time in sliding it up past your chest, careful enough that you weren’t exposed to the coldness of the room. he dived under the quilt, wrapping his lips around one of your nipples, the other being knead in the palm of his fingers.
you gasped as peter’s tongue flicked the bundle of nerves, your stomach flush against his torso.
you could feel his lips curl into a smirk before he switched, rolling your sensitive left nipple between his slender fingers as he licked and pulled the right one in his mouth.
you were getting fidgety, squirming under peter as he felt your grip tighten on his locks, not enough to hurt. he moaned against your skin, placing a few kisses right under your breast, moving lower, now seeming in a hurry.
“pete-” you almost pleaded, finding your voice breathy.
his hands travelled under the pair of sweatpants, making quick work of sliding them down as he traced your thighs, down to your knees before you felt the material slide off you.
you lifted the quilt slightly, just wanting to get a glimpse of peter. the few rays of light that touched him weren’t fast enough to warn you as his lips pressed to the wet patch over your panties. you gasped and threw your head back.
you felt peter’s hot breath and the muffled sound of his moan from under the blanket. he pushed your thighs apart, diving deeper as his nose pressed against your clit, the fabric thick enough to make you grit your teeth, wanting his lips and tongue on you.
maybe peter heard the clenching of your teeth or the way that your hand found home in the tufts of his hair again but he was eagerly pushing down the material past your legs throwing it down to the floor.
you felt peter’s forearms lift your thighs as he shuffled closer to your core, licking up a bold stripe across your folds. your back arched but peter’s grip was keeping you against him.
for a moment you heard him groan as he retracted, “what’s wrong?” you breathed out, supporting yourself up on your elbows.
you almost laughed when his hand creeped out from under the quilt, holding his fogged up glasses out for you to take. with a chuckle, you held the frame between your fingers, quickly placing them to the bedside table.
as you laid your back against the bed, peter was quick to wrap his lips around your clit. you let out a moan as he licked and sucked on the bundle of nerves.
he held onto your thighs, keeping you firm against his lips as he explored the very intimate part of you. his tongue darted out, poking at your entrance, but not giving you enough time to notice that as he slid the muscle deeper against your walls.
you moaned, pressing a hand over your mouth to muffle the lewdest sound you’ve ever made. the bridge of his nose poked against your clit and peter only pressed deeper as his tongue delved in and out of you. it seemed as if he would see no tomorrow if he stopped making out with your dripping hole.
you arched your back, “pete- oh god-”
you felt him hum against you, sending your jaw drop open as you finally felt the pleasure crash all over your body. your toes curled and eyes rolled to the back of your head. you could swear this was the hardest you’d ever come before as goosebumps covered your arms.
you let out a sigh as peter helped you ride out your high, keeping up his ministrations. finally stopping, he placed a soft kiss over your clit, sending your body flinching at the action.
when peter climbed out from under the blanket, surely he looked like he needed to clean up. his chin dripping with your arousal and forehead all sweaty from being so long under the warm quilt.
“you need to wash your face.” you chuckled, brushing back a few locks of hair that were sticking to his forehead.
“and you need to tell me what’s wrong.” he mumbled and you sat up, adjusting your sweatshirt back down.
“it’s nothing-”
“and don’t you dare say it’s nothing.” he sat up as well, beside you, wiping mouth with the sleeve of his shirt– that thing was going in the washing machine the second this conversation was over.
“it’s… just… exams and stuff. you know how anxious i get.” you sighed.
“i know… but you don’t have to! there’s still a week left before-”
“okay, that may seem like a long time but trust me, it’s not.” you looked up at him, meeting the brown eyes that held concern, “i’m sorry, i… i was just overwhelmed. didn’t feel like talking.” you almost pouted, making peter pull you against his chest as he hugged you. you in turn wrapped your arms around his waist.
“trust me, i know how stressful exams can be. but it’s nothing you haven’t been through before.” he placed a soft kiss against your hair, making you hug him even tighter, “you got this, beautiful.”
“yeah, yeah, yeah. easy for you to say.”
he chuckled, “what’s that supposed to mean?”
“you’re like, i don’t know, the smartest guy of our whole generation.” you mumbled against his shoulder.
peter shrugged at that comment, “hey, even i watch youtube videos for help sometimes.”
“yeah, but you grasp every concept so quickly, like you don’t even have to try.” you looked up at him, blinking when you realised how that must have sounded, “...that was supposed to be a compliment.”
“you’re adorable.” peter chuckled, “how about we study together? i’ll make a time table; and don’t worry, it’s not going to be super chaotic, just a simple time table; and we can figure it out together. how’s that sound?”
you smiled at him, feeling your heart swell at the amount of his care, “sounds perfect.”
his smile mirrored yours, “thanks for telling me.”
you gave him a grin.
“now since i told you, can we fuc-”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
masterlist
1K notes · View notes
bruisedboys · 3 months
Note
peter parker and “is that my shirt?” prompt would be so cute!
congrats on 6k
thank u angel! hope u like this!! join the celebration
tasm!peter parker x fem!reader
Peter’s missed you so much he actually feels kind of sick. He’s practically buzzing as he unlocks the apartment door and lugs his suitcase inside.
“Angel?”
There’s a loud and very cute squeal from down the hall. Rapid footsteps, and then you appear in your pyjamas, beaming bright as the sun, looking like the prettiest thing Peter’s ever seen.
“Peter!” You squeal, a ball of excitement. “Baby. Oh my gosh.” You cross the room and throw your arms around his neck. Peter laughs, his chest flooding with warmth, and hugs you back twice as strong.
“Hi, honey,” he says, lovelorn. You smell amazing. You look like an angel. You’re squeezing him to death. He’s missed you so much he could cry. “Holy moly, I missed you so much.”
You giggle, turn your face into the side of his head and drag your nose along his jaw. “I missed you more,” you say, lips hot on his skin.
A shiver runs down Peter’s spine. He’s only had you back for a half a minute and you’ve already got him shivering? Typical. “Impossible,” he tell you. He runs his hands down your back and up again as if to prove to himself you’re really there.
You laugh and pull back, bouncing on your toes, to look him in the eye. You’re so, so beautiful. Somehow prettier than when he left you, which seemed impossible but apparently isn’t, not for you.
You reach up and push a lock of hair from his eyes. Peter’s hypnotised. He doesn’t get how one girl can be so achingly lovely, so pretty and so sweet, but you manage it. He slides his hands down to your waist, feeling like he might explode if he doesn’t touch every inch of you. It’s then that he recognises the familiar fabric of your shirt. He looks down.
“Hey, is that my shirt?” He asks, raising his eyebrows. He nudges you backwards with his hips to get a better look. It is his shirt. His favourite one, which he didn’t pack for his trip because it suspiciously went missing the day before he left. “It is!” He exclaims, pinching at your side. “You had it this whole time?”
You giggle at his prodding, and try twisting yourself out of the way. Peter keeps a firm grip on you, hand spread over your ribs, his glare full of accusatory heat.
“I’m sorry!” You say, giggling like an idiot when he pinches you some more. “I missed you, okay? Is that such a crime?”
Peter makes a face at you but his heart’s soaring. “Well, if you count theft as crime then yeah, I would say so.”
You huff. “You’re so dramatic!”
“I’m dramatic?” Peter feigns offence, pulling his head back incredulously. “You’re the one who stole my—!”
Your lips land on his before he can finish his sentence. His words are lost to your mouth. You push up into the kiss, fervent and hot. Your fingers curl into his collar and brush over the column of his throat, and Peter forgets everything else. He kisses you back just as hard, one arm hooked around your waist and the other bent between your chests to hold your jaw.
“Never mind,” he says between kisses. “You can keep the shirt, baby.”
You laugh against his mouth.
1K notes · View notes
spidernerdsblog · 1 year
Text
flexible
A/N : another blurb inspired by a prank video. Hope you like this. Let me know what you think.
Summary : you prank your boyfriend by putting him in the positions he puts you in during sex.
Pairing : Peter Parker x Reader
Warnings : mature content
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You were hanging out at Peter’s dorm room, sitting on the couch and scrolling through your social media accounts.
“Hey whatcha doing?” Peter asks, walking into the living room. You look up from your phone.
“Nothing, just watching this tiktok on some special yoga poses. Apparently only women can do these very easily.” It was a lie in the video the girlfriend was pranking her boyfriend by putting him in the positions he puts her in during sex.
“That’s rubbish, it just depends on your body’s flexibility.” Peter says.
“You think you’re flexible enough to do these?” a mischievous smirk plays on your lips as you raise an eyebrow baiting him.
“Babe look who you’re talking to. I’m spiderman, I'm flexible AF.” He states placing his hands on his hips with an air of confidence
Oh this is gonna be fun you thought, putting away your phone and standing up from the couch. “Ok let’s see how flexible you are.”
“Yeah, let's do it!” He says excitedly pumping his fist in the air. 
“For the first pose you need to lie down on your back.” You instruct as Peter goes to lie down on the floor. 
“Now bring your legs up” you tell him and he follows by lifting his legs up. “Yeah, just like that. Now spread them wide all the way”
“Like this?” He spreads his legs wide. 
“Yeah and then grab the back of your thighs and pull up.” Holding by the thighs Peter pulls his legs up to his chest and you bite your lip to hide a smile.
“Do you feel it?” You ask.
“Kinda.” He replies.
God he’s so innocent you thought laughing silently to yourself deciding to carry on with the next position.
“For the next pose, turn on your side and bend your knees.” Peter follows your directions and turns on his left side. “Now lift the top leg up.” 
He lifts his right leg up as you hum in approval. “Yeah, as high as you can.” 
“Ooh I can feel this!” He tells and you purse your lips to keep the giggle from slipping out of you.
“Good now stand up.”
“This one is a bit rough, it's called the bunny hop. So you gotta squat down to your feet.” You explain as he squats down.
“Yeah great, now jump up and down.” Peter starts to hop on his feet. “No, no your feet should be on the ground just move your hips” he does as told and you swear to god watching him do that sent you on the verge of losing all control and laughing out like a maniac.
You quickly schooled your features and said. “Ok so for the last one get on the couch on your knees. Grab on the backrest.”
Peter gets on the couch kneeling and holds onto the backrest as you lift his left leg.
“Now lift this leg up and stick your ass out.” Just then Harry decides to stroll into the living room.
“Looking great Parker.” He opens the refrigerator to grab a beer bottle. “You guys taking a trip to the wild side? Should have asked me would’ve been happy to help.” He says while opening the bottle. Understanding finally dawned upon Peter as he jumped out of the couch with a mortified expression and you burst out laughing.
“Oh my god Y/N! You’re such an evil.” He cried out as he thought of all the sex positions you made him do. 
“You don’t have a problem when you put me in those positions.” You tease both of your faces red yours from laughing too hard, his from embarrassment as he stomped back to his room.
“Always wanted to peg that ass.” Harry says, eyes focused at the open door of Peter’s room. 
“Shut up Harry!” Peter yells from his room. Chuckling Harry takes a sip of his beer and saunters off to stand beside you, handing you another bottle.
“Pussy.” He mumbles and turns to you with a sultry look. “The offer still stands, you know. Just like I said before you’re welcome to watch…” he eyes you up and down. “Or join.”
Your lips curl into a smirk as you regard him with narrowed eyes. There have been quite a few times where Harry had openly admitted he’s attracted to both of you suggesting you guys should try doing threesome. “I’ll give it a thought.” You say clinking your bottle to his and take a sip.
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literaila · 5 months
Text
i’ll tell you in the morning
tasm!peter x reader
summary:
“you’re going to fall through the couch.”
“the couch would never betray me.”
warnings: overly considerate peter, scheming reader, fluff and stuff
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*
“you’re supposed to be in bed.”
his voice rolls, like a click on a cassette, and you know that peter is not really there.
because it’s all a little blurry. his voice, the door opening, the feeling when he kneels down next to you, his breath hot in your ear.
it’s all some remanent of a dream. a brief moment where you might wake up, but decide not to.
“i’m serious,” his voice ebbs and flows, waving in and out, like your consciousness. “you know i don’t like it when you wait up for me.”
you groan and roll even further into the couch. your face is smushed, and your hair is a mess, sweaty because you’re drowning under every blanket in the house. it smells like cotton, and peter’s deodorant, and potato chips that you probably dropped through the cushions.
you dig your nose in deeper, trying to get back to that dream.
peters probably not actually there, you think, because if he was he would’ve kissed you awake. his hand would be lazily running through your hair, and his body would be pressed against yours. you would be cuddling by now.
real peter is much nicer than dream peter, who shakes your shoulder, albeit massaging you right afterward. “c’mon, bug, we’re going to bed.”
“sleeping,” you mumble, pulling away from him.
dream peter continues to try and wake you up, while you wonder—amidst the dream, no doubt—when real peter will be home. you want to be drowning in his collarbone instead of your own sweat.
there’s a kiss next to your ear. “you’re going to fall through the couch.”
“the couch would never betray me.”
“we’ll see if you’re saying that in the morning, when your neck is bent the wrong way,” he whispers, and rests his head against yours. you feel it as he breathes out, relaxes. almost like he’s purring into your ear.
so you keen into him, a bit awkwardly, considering that it’s his forehead. “why’d you wake me up?”
“you can’t sleep here.”
“c’mere,” you murmur to him, your hand wrapping around the back of his neck, fingertips just brushing his hair. “cuddle with me.”
“being cute isn’t going to stop me from moving you.”
“peter,” you try and push him away, “go to bed.”
“why are you out here?” his nose trails down your hair, to your neck. “it’s almost four in the morning.”
you ponder this, and decide that you don’t really remember what you were doing before you fell asleep here, with your hand shoved in the crook of your neck. “the beds cold,” you slur, head falling back into the cushions as you doze.
“that’s because all of the blankets are out here. why didn’t you turn the heat up?”
he’s playing with some baby hair by your ear now, trying to lull you to sleep, probably, because he loves you.
“i was waiting for you,” you whisper this like a prayer, “and now you’re here.”
“you waited in the wrong spot. i would’ve come to bed with you. there’s no room for me here,” he smiles when you finally turn your head towards him. he’s got a smudge on his nose, and his eyes are sunken in—aged from exhaustion.
“i know.”
you’re both whispering. trying not to wake that drowsy, lovesick part of yourself right now.
“hmm?” he leans into you, nose brushing your cheek. almost like he’s breathing you in. “what, bug?”
“i wanted to fall asleep with you.”
then his eyes are wide open, and he leans back, brows furrowed in a tight line. “i told you i was going out.”
you muse at his confused face, and lean back towards him. “i know. i didn’t know when you’d be home.”
“you could’ve called.”
“i’m not going to interrupt your repertoire with a burglar at midnight. it’s rude.”
“not to me.”
you tsk, and lean away, back into the pillow comforting you while simultaneously scheming to ruin your morning.
“you need more sleep than i do,” peter adds, trying to keep you awake with his sheer willpower, his hands squirm under your shoulders. “we’ve talked about this.”
“no, you threatened to tell my mom—“
“that’s not what i said,” peter interrupts, groaning into the sofa.
“that i wasn’t getting enough sleep. and i said that you could make your own decisions, but that i wasn’t going to stop waiting up for you.”
“it makes me feel bad,” he ignores your gentle protesting. “i don’t want to keep you up.”
“peter, it’s not like you’re out dancing with strippers.”
he laughs, unexpectedly. and you grin back at him, with a sheer conviction undiluted by any hints of remaining sleep.
“you’re up helping people. i don’t mind waiting for you,” you emphasize this by leaning in to kiss his forehead, tasting sweat and not minding at all.
“you’re going to be tired tomorrow. when did you fall asleep?”
you acknowledge your win for what it is, and sit up on the couch, looking around your apartment like you can’t remember where you are. “probably an hour ago. i didn’t know when you’d be home, and i waited a while, but then i moved to the couch so you’d have to wake me up if i fell asleep.”
“so this was an elaborate scheme, huh?” peter laughs at you as his teeth graze your cheek. his chaste kiss makes you warm.
“i learned from the best.”
peter chuckles against you, and the two of you sit like that for a moment. calculating each others breathing like there’s something you might miss, however brief.
and then you smile at him, and he smiles back. “bed?” he asks you, softly, fingertip running against the skin of your jaw. you nod.
his arms wrap around you as he picks you up, your head rested comfortably on his shoulder, legs wrapped around his waist.
“i’m leaving you on the couch next time,” he threatens as he walks, “just so you know.”
“then we’ll both wake up with sore backs. not just you.”
peter snorts. “i didn’t say i would be there.”
“like you can sleep without me.”
he doesn’t say anything to that, but you feel him murmur in your hair suspiciously.
peter sets you down on the bed softly, pushing your legs so you’ll lay down, then covering you with the comforter. he tucks you in like any average middle aged dad.
when you grin he nods, very satisfied with himself.
“i’m just gonna change,” he says, taking a step back.
“hurry. i’m tired.”
“now, look who’s talking,” he shakes his head, but moves swiftly to the bathroom. you hear it as he runs the sink, as he bangs his foot on something and curses, and when he pads back into the bedroom, looking like a young child sneaking out of bed in his pajamas.
you laugh. “where did you get those?”
peter looks down to himself. to the many cartoon styled spider-man’s dancing across his cotton pajama set. “what? this old thing.”
“i don’t think i can be seen in public with you if you’re wearing that.”
“we are in the privacy of our bedroom,” he points out.
“i don’t think i can be in the same room with you if you’re wearing that.”
peter shakes his head, pouting like he’s disappointed, but he slips the shirt off, a concession he’s apparently willing to make.
though you don’t doubt that there are ulterior motives to this move.
“c’mon,” you whine to him, “i’m cold.”
“you’re so needy.”
you roll your eyes, but sink into him as he shuffles from beside you, laying his head near yours. “you’re not coddling me.”
“i’m so very sorry, my dear,” he whispers, and wraps his arms around you.
“shh,” you nuzzle your nose into his neck, and murmur against his hot skin. “i want to go back to the dream i was having.”
peter must be laughing at you, you can tell, even slightly asleep, because something jostles you.
“what was it about?”
you smile against him, listening to his heart like a hymn you’re devoted to. “i’ll tell you in the morning.”
he whispers something, brief, a whisper in the quiet of the room. but you feel the words as he settles into the bed, his calloused hands running over your skin.
and you fall asleep; hands clutching the others heart.
*
2K notes · View notes
luveline · 5 months
Note
hellooo!! im not sure if your requests are open so feel free to ignore this but i was wondering if you could write for tasm!peter where the reader just got her wisdom teeth removed and she’s all loopy on anesthetics and forgets peter is her boyfriend? i saw this video where this girl got her wisdom teeth pulled and forgot she was dating her boyfriend and fell in love with him all over again😭😭
https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZPR7sGQo5/
thank you for your request! ♡ fem, 1k
"Here she is," the nurse says gently, walking you out with his arm behind your back. "Alright, say hi to Peter." 
"Hi, Peter," you mumble, eyes on the floor. 
Peter grins at you, worry warm at the back of his throat. "Hey. Is that everything?" he asks, nodding at the nurses paper bag of aftercare. 
"Everything you'll need." The nurse helps Peter take over, hoisting your arm over his shoulders before stepping away. "Alright, feel better, okay? And don't hesitate to call if something comes up. We're here to look after you." 
You seem appreciative in your fog, but it's hard to tell. Peter curls his arm around your hip and gives it a soft rub as he leads you to the stairs. Whoever devised the floor plan here had murder on their mind —the second floor is completely inaccessible. Luckily, Peter has a lot of strength at his disposal. 
You can feel it. "Woh, you're strong," you murmur. 
"You know that already." His grip on you tightens, pretty much carrying you down the tight staircase. 
"Do I?" you ask. You make a sound like you're hurting, a squeak. 
"I'd hope so." At the end of the staircase, he sits you down, worried you're not feeling well. "You okay? I can princess carry you if you need me to." 
You look at him with wide eyes. He turns to check there's no one standing behind him, but you're really looking at him. "What?" he asks, touching your knee, imploring. "You look like you've seen a ghost." 
"You're Peter?" you ask. 
Ah, the amnesiac effect of anaesthetic. His touch turns comforting, stroking your thigh with as much care as he can drive into his palm alone. "That's me. Hey, if you're forgetting me, does that mean you're not mad at me for last Friday anymore? 'Cos I know you said you forgive me but I can tell it still pisses you off–" 
Your eyes fall to his hand. "Why would I be mad at you?" you ask. 
"I finished the milk and put the carton back in the fridge, even though I promised I'd stop doing it. You see the jug and think there's milk left. We were gonna have macaroni and cheese..." He nudges your fingers with his. "Are you okay? You don't look like yourself."
"What do I usually look like?" 
"Not so, you know. Daunted." 
"You're really handsome," you whisper, refusing to meet his eye. 
"Oh, you think so?" 
You nod like your head is too heavy. You're embarrassed, you sweetheart, oh my god Peter could cry into your lap. 
"Let's get you to the car, baby." 
"Where are we going?" The gauze gives you the world's most adorable lisp, and it turns your gasp into a hum as Peter stands you up. 
"Home." 
"Together?" 
"Yeah, we live together. It's a nice place, and you're a great decorator, you know? It's cozy." 
"Thank you," you say shyly. 
You're not not shy with him, but it's been a long time since you got so quiet over a practically innocuous comment. He wants to see how you'll react to real compliments, over the top stuff that he one hundred percent means. It's a little mean, but when will you ever be like this again? 
He helps you out past the desk and onto the street to your car where it's parked a half a block down. "Don't worry about all this, okay? I'm gonna take such good care of you, sweetheart. There's an ice pack and a brand new comforter with your name on it waiting at home." Peter smiles at your starry eyes as they flash to his, amazed at his simple plans. "How does that sound, beautiful? Is there anything you want before we head home? Anything that would make you feel better?" 
"You're gonna take care of me?" you ask breathlessly. 
"That's my job. That's my number one boyfriend duty." 
"You're my boyfriend?" 
"I am!" he says happily, laughing as he speaks. "For a while. I've been trying to take things further but you're always really shy about getting married–" 
"You want to get married? To me?" 
Peter presses a soft kiss to your cheek. "You're the only person I'd ever want to get married to. We already picked the flowers–" 
"We did?" 
He laughs again, all your questions. He loves regular you but loopy you is especially endearing. "Last time I got super drunk, yeah. You never let me forget it." 
"So you love me?" you ask, stopping short.
"I love you so much," he says immediately, hugging you into his side. He dots another kiss against the top of your head. "You should remember that even if you don't remember me." 
"I love you," you say quietly. 
Peter doesn't know if that's your memory returning, or if you've fallen in love with him in the last fifteen minutes. He could easily fall in love with you that quickly, and yet he's still amazed at your confession. 
"That's good. That's great. Thank you, sweetheart," he says, desperate to hold your face in his hands but weary of causing you future pain. "There's your car," —he points, lowering his head to yours to make sure you can see it, hand now protectively held between your shoulder blades— "let's go home now. Yeah?" 
You start walking again at his requests. He can pretty much see the steam rising off of your face, giddy with happiness at these revelations. You're together, you're in love, and you think he's handsome. He wonders what you'll have to say about his biceps in this state of delirium; you go crazy for his arms sober. 
Which reminds him. 
"I totally have another secret to tell you," he says, unlocking the car as you approach and helping you into the passenger seat. 
"What is it?" you ask. 
Peter closes you in and skirts around the door, climbing into the driver's seat. He's glad that New York is as ridiculously loud as ever, because not even the closed doors or your sodden gauze can smother the way you shriek.
"My boyfriend is Spider-Man?!" 
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sugugori · 6 months
Text
Tough men who get whiny and pliant while just making out. What started off as sweet kisses here and there, turns into something much more primal. Him pulling you closer, getting more and more desperate and needy, doesn’t know where to put his hands. Bucking his hips and panting because he’s already close from a little tongue. Pulling little pitchy “mhm”’s from them and whispering quiet pleases. He’s got that glassy, far away look in his eyes and his cheeks are flushed a pretty pink. Just a few kisses from you turns him into a virgin again. And if you keep kissing his neck like that, he might cum in his pants - he’s so sensitive
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cosmal · 1 year
Note
✪ — oh em gee what about ❛ this is a good look for you. ❜ with peter parker
stained
summary — peter spills a drink on your top at a party.
content — tasm!peterparker x fem!afab!reader, mentions of nudity
note — sorry this is super short! more of a baby blurb!
You sit on the edge of the toilet, naked from the waist up, while Peter is hunched over the bathroom sink, scrubbing at your shirt.
"Peter, just leave it, I'll wash it at home," you say softly. He looks really determined.
He'd spilt his drink all over your top downstairs at the party you're at. He'd felt horrible and insisted that he could get the stain out in the sink. The green stain out of your white top.
Turns out dawn soap and lukewarm water don't do the job. "I'm sorry, baby, really," he frets, holding the top up where it drips into the sink. You're not sure if he's made it better or worse. You appreciate him nonetheless.
"Pete, thank you, really," you start, shifting uncomfortably over the plastic lid. You cross your arms over your chest, where your bra digs into your skin, and look at the wet mess Peter holds in his hands. "It's okay. But now I have no top."
Peter drops the shirt looking really guilty. He feels horrible because he's ruined one of your favourite tops and he's also the reason you're half-naked in some random condo.
"Shit," he curses to himself.
He doesn't think twice. Peeling his jacket off, he stands at your knees and holds it out. "Here," he says bashfully. It's a thin jacket, made of nothing really. It's all you've got and you're not about to start complaining.
You stand to slip it on and hate it when you realise it has no zipper. Or any buttons. You pull it taut over your front and start to feel anxious. "Can you see anything?"
He pulls the collar forwards over your collarbones and smooths it out over your shoulders. "You're safe," he smiles. You watch his throat bob under the skin of his lightly stubbled neck. "It, uh, it looks really good."
"Pete," you groan while tipping your head back. "I'm naked, in the middle of the city, wearing my clumsy boyfriend's jacket, and you're getting turned on?"
"What?" he gawps, clearing his throat, "I am not! You just suit it, that's all."
You pull it tight around your middle and roll your eyes. "You're unbelievable."
He plays with the hem between his fingers, keeping his eyes planted to the floor momentarily. "It's a good look on you."
You straighten your back and ignore the way he's making you feel. Time and place you remember. "Right, we're going outside unnoticed and you're gonna hail a cab with those long arms of yours."
"You don't wanna swing home?" he asks.
"You don't have your shit," you grumble. It'd be convenient, but also reckless.
"My shit? You mean my suit?" he laughs, wrapping a hand around the hinge of your elbow. "I'm gonna pretend you didn't say that because I deserve it."
Peter makes sure you're decent before he opens the door to the bathroom. You stand behind him, hanging off his arm, hoping his broad shoulders will do you a favour and hide you well.
There's a drunk guy on the other side for the toilet presumably. Peter moves to the side to shield you on instinct when you squeak out a surprised noise. You push your chest against him to cover the slip of skin that struggles to be covered by the jacket, and let Peter guide you down the hall.
You lean in to whisper in his ear, "You owe me, Parker."
You get out onto the street when he says, "I'll show you how sorry I am when we get home."
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madwcman · 2 months
Note
tasm! Peter kissing reader any chance he gets?
a/n: thank you for requesting <3
pairing: tasm! peter x reader
peter silently wraps his arms around you and rest his head between the crook of your neck, giving your neck a small peck. peter always wants to kiss you, every chance he gets he takes it.
“what was that kiss for?” you giggle, as your boyfriend grip on you tightens, and he starts to sway you both.
“just wanted to kiss you.” he says softly, moving his head from your neck, his lips landing on the apple of your cheek.
“you always want to kiss me.” you move your head back to look at peter with a bright smile. “of course i do.” he turns you around so you could face and see him fully. you give peter a warm smile and wrap your arms around his neck. he moves in to give you more kisses, you deserve all the kisses in the world from him, in his opinion. if he could kiss you all day he would, so he kisses you any chance he can.
“peter!” you shout, laughing at the pampering he’s giving you, you think your boyfriend is overly sweet, and you love it. you love peter.
he stops and pulls from your face. he has a cheeky smile and pulls you in, hugging you tighter than before. “you’re too sweet peter.” you tell him fondly. your hands going up to peters hair, playing with it softly, he loves when you play with his hair. it makes him melt.
“i’m too sweet?”
“yes, you practically spoil me.” you giggle out, your heart is all warm and you feel a little silly when your with peter. “well a sweet girl like you should be spoiled.” and he moves in to kiss you all over again.
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slytherheign · 1 year
Text
YOU BELONG WITH ME | tasm!peter parker
PAIRING: high school senior!tasm!peter parker x high school senior!fem!reader
WORD COUNT: 3.9k
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SUMMARY: you can’t help but feel insecure when you realize your best friend peter and the most famous girl in the school are keeping a sweet secret from you.
WARNINGS: cursing/swearing, awkwardness, jealousy, insecurities, self-loathing, reader is an overthinker and assumes things easily. let me know if i missed any warnings. [⚠︎︎RATING: G]
AUTHOR'S NOTE: inspired by taylor swift’s song with the same title. angst with happy ending. dedicated to @joshiiieeenesx, thanks for supporting me and requesting this. i hope you’re having a great day!
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DESTINATION: Sweet Street | GO BACK TO THE STATION. CLICK HERE FOR ALL THINGS YBWM (reviews, commentary, etc. about this fic).
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It was Friday Night.
Your favorite day and time of the week because of your tradition with Peter to order pizza and watch a movie. Tonight was a bit different though, you both decided to order your least favorite flavor of pizza and watch the lowest-rated movie ever. 
Peter made a joke in the middle of the movie, causing you to laugh and cover your face with your hands. It was a habit you developed since you were a kid when a bully made fun of you for having an ‘ugly-laughing’ face. “Stop,” he chuckled as he captured your wrists with his hands. “Stop what?” you questioned unknowingly, allowing him to hold your wrists and pull them away from your face. You stared at him confusingly.
“Stop covering your face when you laugh,” he said. “I can’t see your pretty face.” Peter would always make little comments here and there about you, most of them being compliments. You ought not to make it serious since you’d always tell flirty jokes to each other, but you just can’t help but feel a little flutter in your stomach every time he would compliment you.
You tried covering the increasing redness of your cheeks with laughter. “I’m serious. Stop covering your face,” he told you. “What if I told you I’m doing it on purpose?” you thought of a quick funny remark.  “And why, may I ask, are you doing it on purpose?” he quirked an eyebrow. 
“Let’s just say, if you see my beautiful face when I’m laughing, you might just fall in love,” you joked, smirking at him. There was a tinge of the color red in his cheeks, but he was quick to hide it with a chuckle.
“Well, why don’t you let me see your beautiful face then let’s see if I really fall in love?” he remarked. Once again, you laughed because you didn’t know how to respond. Peter was laughing with you when his phone suddenly rang. He quickly stood up, covering the name of the caller with his hand before walking to a private secluded room in his house to answer it. You didn’t mind it. After all, everyone deserved privacy when they’re talking to someone on the phone. Besides, you were actually quite thankful because the phone call interrupted the growing awkwardness in the room. You paused the movie while Peter talked on the phone in the other room.
Minutes passed and you were getting bored of waiting for him. You decided to pull your phone from your jeans pocket and open the Instagram app for a bit. Your feed was pretty much full of your schoolmates that were either busy preparing for prom next friday or busy with the upcoming game on Monday. You scrolled mindlessly, double-tapping each post from your close friends when you stumbled upon a post from her.
Gwen Stacy. Blonde hair, blue eyes, perfect body. The cheer captain, head of the planning committee, the smartest in school… well, not the smartest because that would be Peter… but still the smartest girl in school. Having all that, you’d think she was the type to be the typical mean girl, but no… she’s actually the nicest.
In the picture, she was smiling with the other cheerleaders, their teeth as white as snow and their faces as beautiful as barbie dolls even when they were sweating. Sometimes you just wonder if they ever had a bad hair day or they’re just perfect all the time.
“Please! Gwen, come on!” you heard Peter yell. Gwen? Why was he talking to Gwen Stacy?
“Really? Yes!” you heard him exclaim excitedly. A pang of jealousy hit your chest, the feeling was unwelcome because you knew he wasn’t even yours to begin with. But still, it hurt.
The next thing you heard was his footsteps nearing the door. You collected yourself immediately, greeting him with a smile as he opened the door.
“Sorry about that,” he smiled, with the same fucking smile you fell in love with. He sat next to you on the couch, subtly putting his arm on the back just around where your head was resting. He grabbed the remote from your hand, but for a few seconds, you felt it linger when his hand touched yours.
He pressed the play button and you both continued to watch the movie.
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“Okay, just so we’re clear. You think Peter and Gwen are dating?” your other friend, Mary Jane, iterated on the phone. It was Sunday night, the only time MJ had free time this week since she was also a cheerleader.
“Yes,” you answered clearly. “I heard them talking on the phone the other night. Peter seemed really happy and excited.”
“And what do you feel about that?” she asked.
“Uh–I don’t know?” you admitted.
“I call bull. Come on, I know you’re in love with Peter.”
“Okay. I do have feelings for him… but I don’t think he feels the same about me. He probably asked Gwen to be his prom date even though we promised we’d take each other to the event.”
“So you’re not going to prom anymore?”
“I mean I already have a dress so I guess I’ll still go. It just sucks that I’ll be going without him.”
“Since when did you get a dress?!” 
“Uhh… since last week?” 
“And you didn’t even tell me?” she made a sound of absolute shock. Knowing her, you knew she probably had her hand on her chest while making that sound. “I could’ve helped you pick.”
“It’s not a problem honestly. Besides, I kinda wanted it to be a surprise?”
“Can you at least tell me the color?” she pleaded.
“Blue. Like the kind of blue in Spider-Man’s suit.”
“Weird way to describe a color. Is there a specific reason why you chose blue? I thought you never liked blue.”
“Okay, I’ll tell you but don’t tell anyone about this because I think Peter is kinda embarrassed about it… Peter is obsessed with Spider-Man. He’s such a huge fan of his–maybe even his number one fan. He even tried to hide it from me, but when I found a Spider-Man suit in his closet he just started getting really nervous and he only stopped when I told him it’s fine if he’s a fan. I’m not judging him, I think Spider-Man is really cool too,” you explained. “I was hoping he’d notice the color reference but now that he’s going with Gwen Stacy, I doubt he would even look at me.”
“You really think Peter would ignore you? Have you seen how that man looks at you?”
“He looks at everyone like that. It’s nothing special,” you denied.
“Listen, believe what you want to believe but I know Peter is definitely in love with you too. But if you did end up alone and out of place at the event, you’re welcome to sit with me.”
“Thanks, but you literally have a date. I don’t wanna be a third wheel,” you laughed. “I appreciate the thought though,” you exchanged goodbyes not long after that, wishing her good luck on their cheer performance.
You thought hard about what she said. Peter did become more clingy to you these last few months and he always made sure to text or call you every day. You guessed there really was a chance Peter shared the same feelings with you. 
Maybe he was just talking to Gwen as a friend.
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You were at the gymnasium where you'd have to watch student-athletes pass the ball to each other, all having the same objective to shoot the ball in their respective goals. And when a member of a team claimed their shot, it would repeat all over again. 
You were never into sports. If you had a choice, you’d rather stay in bed and continue reading Looking For Alaska, but instead, you were stuck sitting on the bleachers while watching cheerleaders dance their routine in such a flawless manner. As much as you wanted to focus on MJ and support her, your eyes couldn’t help but look at Gwen. She really was mesmerizing.
You were too busy comparing her shiny legs and the way they moved with their short flowy skirts with your simple t-shirt and sneakers to even notice someone sitting beside you.
You continued watching Gwen dance, focusing on her pretty face and realizing that even in her sweaty condition she still kept dazzling everyone in the room with her beautiful smile. You noticed her wink in your direction. For a moment you thought she was winking at you, but when you followed the direction she was smiling at you noticed it was directed at someone beside you—Peter. 
Funny. You didn’t even know Peter was beside you.
“Hi?” you greeted, putting your best smile in front of him while your stomach ached from cruel jealousy.
“Hey,” he simply replied, before focusing on the phone he just got out of his pocket. He was busy texting someone. 
“So…you already have a suit for Friday?” you asked, trying to start a conversation. He shook his head. “Nope. But I plan on looking later today.”
“Cool. Do you want me to go with you? I don’t have anything to do after this,” you offered. 
He stopped and finally looked at you. You noticed how his eyes widened at your question and after mere seconds of looking at your eye, he looked away. He didn’t even need to open his mouth, his body language already told you that he already had someone he was going with.
You felt too sick to even hear his reply, immediately knowing the answer. You excused yourself, going straight to the bathroom to try to compose yourself and your body that was slowly starting to shake. You looked at yourself in the mirror, yelling inside your head to stop the tears that were threatening to fall. 
You and Peter were supposed to be inseparable. From childhood up until that moment earlier on the bleachers, you thought you would end up together.
All those years, you have convinced yourself you would be together and told the stars that he belonged with you.
But maybe he belonged with someone else.
And if you truly loved him, who were you to stop him from following his heart?
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The moment you stepped inside the school tomorrow morning, Peter immediately wrapped his arm around your shoulder.
If it was yesterday or the days before, you would’ve loved it and your stomach would’ve already been swarmed with butterflies. But today, all it felt was aching pain.
“Hey,” he kissed your cheek, a thing he always did whenever he saw you at school. “MJ told me you went home early yesterday because you weren’t feeling well. Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve walked you home.”
“It’s fine, really,” you answered. It wasn’t fine, but how could you tell him he was the reason you couldn’t bear to stay at school yesterday?
“Well, I missed you. You got me really worried.”
And there it was again, the feeling of your heart jumping just from the words he said and how his voice spoke them. Was Gwen even okay with him putting his arm around your shoulder and walking with you in the hallways?
You did your best acting like everything was alright for the rest of today. Peter was busy texting Gwen for most of the time anyway, it wasn’t hard to convince him everything was fine.
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Classes for Wednesday and Thursday were suspended to give way for prom preparations. You didn’t have much to do on Wednesday, so when MJ offered an idea to practice doing makeup and putting on the dresses to prepare for prom, you agreed.
You sat in your room in front of your vanity mirror while MJ did your makeup for you. She matched the eyeshadow with the color of your dress, and you must admit, she did amazing. Next was your hair, you requested it to be an updo, with the hairpins you picked out scattered attractively.
For a moment, you wondered what Peter could be doing right now. His house was just next to yours, his bedroom window facing yours and if you only pulled your curtains aside, you would see him through his window—if it wasn’t covered by his curtains.
Mary Jane snapped you back to reality by complimenting the details of the dress she just pulled out of your closet. “I need to see you in this dress now.”
You chuckled but complied nonetheless. With her help, you carefully put on the dark blue long dress. “Shit. This dress is made for you,” she complimented. It was true, you were indeed a vision. The dress hugged your body perfectly and the details were perfect to your liking. You never liked the color blue, but this dress got you second thinking. 
After putting on your heels, you checked yourself out in the mirror when MJ’s phone suddenly rang. “Peter? Hi,” she answered. As soon as she said his name, you turned around to face her.
“Are you okay?” MJ asked Peter. “You sound ill.”
“What’s happening?” you didn’t care anymore if Peter wasn’t talking to you. Something was wrong with him based on MJ’s reaction, and you were concerned.
“Oh my god.”
“MJ, what is it?” 
“Something is really wrong with him. I think we need to go to his hou–” she didn’t have the opportunity to finish her sentence when you immediately walked out of your room still in your dress and on your way to Peter’s house. MJ followed you but stayed outside Peter’s house. She smirked the moment you entered his house. Everything was going as planned.
Aunt May was thankfully on vacation somewhere, you couldn’t imagine her reaction if she saw you rushing towards her nephew’s room in a long dress and in heels. 
You carefully knocked on his bedroom door, announcing your presence. “Y/N?” he asked and you hummed in response. “I’m in here,” he answered from the next room. As far as you can remember, that room was an empty one. You weren’t sure why Peter was in there but in times of emergencies like this one, you didn’t care. “Can I open the door?” you asked.
“Yes.”
You did not expect what you saw.
The room was dark as a result of the windows being covered. On the floor were littered little candles with your favorite scent lit up to light the room in a romantic manner. There was an area left for you to walk leading to the middle of the room, which had a space just enough for two people. You also noticed the petals of roses scattered on the floor as a string version of your favorite song started playing. 
A figure emerged from the shadows—Peter. He offered his hand for you to take and only then when he led you to the middle did the fire from the candles revealed his outfit. He was wearing a suit that perfectly matched the color of your dress. You didn’t know how he knew the exact color of your dress, you would ask him that later.
You were both speechless, neither knowing what to say. “Wow…” he breathed out. “How could a person look so beautiful? You are unreal.”
“Thank you,” you blushed. “You look handsome too.”
He held your hand and guided it towards his lips, placing a soft kiss on the back of it before holding each of your hands with both of his.
“Peter?” you started to say. “What–”
“You know I prepared a whole speech just for this moment,” he interrupted. “And then as soon as I saw you, I just forgot every single thing in the world because you’re the only one that matters.”
Tears were starting to gloss your eyes but before you could start crying from his sentiment, you asked him a question that has been vexing you for quite a while.
“What about Gwen?”
His face was quick to react to your question. His forehead scrunched up, looking at you as if to tell you if you could emphasize your question.
“I thought you were together. You were talking to each other pretty much the whole week. You were texting and calling each other, she was with you when you picked your suit, and then I saw her wink at you at the game.”
His face slowly dawned with realization. As soon as he realized what you were talking about, he couldn’t help but laugh. But upon seeing your worried face, he stopped laughing at once and looked straight into your eyes with absolute seriousness.
“Gwen and I are nothing more than just friends. We are not together. We’ve been talking to each other a lot because I asked her for help on how to surprise you. She also helped me pick the right suit so I wouldn’t embarrass myself with a lousy one. She winked at me at the game because she was excited that after the game ended, we would set up this surprise. And also because I was sitting next to you in the bleachers, she kinda saw me stare at you while you were busy watching the cheer routine. The wink was just her teasing and being excited. It doesn’t mean anything, I swear. It’s only you. I only want you.”
“Shit. So I really just overthought the whole situation,” you chuckled. “I’m so stupid.”
“No, you’re not stupid. Don’t invalidate your feelings, It’s completely understandable. If I was you I’d think the same too.”
After a short moment of soft understanding silence, you felt him stiffen. His hands now held yours a little bit tighter. “Can I ask you a question?” he finally said.
“Let me guess, you want me to be your prom date?” you tried to ease the tension with the obvious question.
“Yes, and no.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I want to take you to prom, yes. But that’s not the only thing I want. I want to take you on dates, I want to dance with you not just at events organized by the school, I want to buy you flowers, every day if I can; I want to watch scary movies with you and laugh when you’re too scared and you hide yourself with a pillow, I want to watch sad movies with you and bring you tissues and cuddle you the moment you cry, I want to watch romantic movies with you and cringe together when the characters do something embarrassing and wrap my arms around you when you blush at something sweet that they do. I want the tears, the pain, the frustration, the confusion, the sweetness, the laughter—everything. I want everything. With you.”
“Pete…”
“We’re seniors. Next year, we’re going to college. We will take on different paths and places, but before that even happens, I want you to be my place that’s never changing. And if you feel the same, I want to be your place that’s never changing too. You have been my best friend since we were kids, and I don’t want my memory of us to be just two people being friends since childhood,” he said before resting his forehead against yours. “I am in love with you, Y/N L/N. Would you be willing to enter a relationship that’s more than friends with me?”
Tears glossed over your eyes again, but this time, you let one fall. Peter was quick to wipe it with his hand. “Tell me you don’t feel the same and I will not hold it against you. Tell me you don’t feel the same and I will not cross the line of being more than friends. Know that I will not force you into a relationship you do not want. Tell me if you don’t feel the same and I–”
“Yes,” you stopped him before he could finish his sentence. “The answer is yes. I am in love with you as well, Peter Parker. I have been for a long time.”
Peter smiled, now feeling his own tears try to escape his eyes but he didn’t let them fall. “May I dance with you?”
You chuckled but agreed, letting him guide you into position. Your forearms rested on his shoulders, your hands softly stroking the back of his neck while his hands were positioned at both sides of your waist. As the music still played in the background, you both started swaying.
“I can’t take my eyes off of you. You’re gorgeous,” he commented. “You don’t look so bad yourself. Your suit even matched my dress,” you said back.
“I’ll have to thank MJ for that.”
“Wait–MJ is a part of this?” 
“Of course, she is. How’d you think I knew the color of your dress?”
You suddenly remembered the conversation you had with MJ when she asked you about the color of your dress. And then you also remembered that MJ was the reason why you were even inside Peter’s house right now in the first place. Peter called her and then she said that something was wrong with him and urged you to come here. Where was she even now anyways?
Peter laughed as he watched your face change from confusion to realization. “You know what–I’ll give it to y’all. You, Gwen, and MJ are good at this,” you admitted.
“The dressing up with our prom outfits and dancing was my idea though,” he spoke as he guided you into a spin. “I wanted our first dance to be private, not in a room filled with other students.”
You saw him glance at your lips for a moment before looking back into your eyes. “I also want to do this,” he said as he leaned in closer and met your lips with his.
You’ve imagined this moment ever since your heart started beating for him. But still, the feeling of his lips against yours for real was better than what you’d imagined it to be. The kiss was soft but intimate, neither of you having a need to rush into things but at the same time making up for lost time pining over each other silently. You wished you could kiss him forever and stay like this but you eventually needed to pull away to breathe.
“So, you really thought I was in love with Gwen?” he teased while you were catching your breath.
“Way to ruin the moment,” you chuckled, lightly punching his arm before nodding.
“Shit. I really made you jealous?” he seemed really proud of what he had done from the way he was smirking.
“Are you happy?” you jokingly asked, rolling your eyes with fake annoyance.
“Am I happy? Of course, I am. I just kissed you.”
You couldn’t find the words to reply as you blushed harder than you’d ever blushed before. Instead, you just laughed out of blissful happiness.
For the first time ever, he saw you laugh without covering your face and it was the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen. He couldn’t help but kiss you again.
Needless to say, the future was exciting.
If only he could tell you that he was Spider-Man.
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