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#tasm peter parker oneshot
evsstolenhearts · 3 months
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hey ev!! I originally accidently sent this rq to the wrong person lol 😅
I wanted to ask if you could write tasm!Peter with a gn!r who has a nightmare? I keep having them so I thought it would be a cute idea
Thank you 🥰
Summary: you have a nightmare
Tasm!Peter parker x gn!reader | 475 words | no y/n
Warnings: mentions of fear
A/n: I'm sorry this is a bit short!
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆
Your eyes shoot open to a dark room. Laying in bed, facing the wall, as your breathing starts to even out and your heart continues to beat rapidly in your chest. For a few minutes, all you do is continue to lay there, staring, unmoving at nothing. The fear that clouded your dreams softens around the edges a bit, slow dissipating. But not leaving fast enough.
Eventually you begin to sit up, blanket falling off your body and onto your lap. Next to you, Peter is sound asleep, having gotten back from patrol some time while you slept. A new, small cut adorning his cheek, and his messy hair sprawled out on the pillow. While admiring Peter, he starts to stir, feeling you watching him. 
The realization you woke up Peter sets in as he peaks open his eyes to look at you. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you." Your voice is soft, not disturbing the silence of the night.
"Why are you up?" His voice is rough from sleep as he glances at the clock, reading '4:57am'.
If it was anyone else asking, the option to lie would look like the most beautiful thing in the world. But sadly, you know Peter would direct a lie. "Just a small nightmare, it's nothing." Despite it truly being nothing, just a figment of imagination. An improbable, and likely impossible thing, it feels like much more than nothing. It feels like your real heart was ripped out and sown back in while you slept.
Peter moves back his side of the blanket a bit, revealing his college t-shirt, and sweats that are hung lower due to shifting while he slept. He opens his arms, silently asking you to lay back down. This request, you comply. Arms joining around his waist and back, head resting near his shoulder and neck, smooshed into the pillow, and he wraps his arms around you. Bringing back the blanket in order to hide you from the world and all the horrors that wished to haunt you. 
You can feel Peter's chest rise and fall, and hear his heart beat. Barely audible from where you lay. 
"You don't have to baby me, ya know." Your voice is muffled due to being squished into him.
"'M not babying you." His fingers start to slowly trace shapes on your back.
"You are though. It was just a dream. I'm fine."
"Then consider this as somthing I want. We can say I just wanted to feel you in my arms after patrol." His tone, despite soft and affectionate, leaves no room for argument. 
And with that, you start to relax once more. Safe in the arms of the city's hero, shielded and protected. Slowly beginning to doze off, you feel Peter press a light kiss onto the top of your head, before he too falls back to sleep. 
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heliads · 10 months
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Andrew!Peter x male reader, Peter and reader being childhood friends and when Peter gets bit by the spider he grows distant with reader and reader starts to see him hanging around gwen more and gets jealous and mad, maybe a fight in the hallway of the school and reader just walking away, maybe fluff or angst whatever your really feeling tbh
ooh i love a chance for angst
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Peter Parker tells you about the spider bite, and that is the last thing of note that he says to you. The silence that follows that one grave pronouncement is deep, lasting, unfathomably painful; it refuses to let you be, even for a second, but the worst thing about it by far was that it came from him, from Peter. Your Peter. Peter, formerly yours, but yours no longer.
Before that, though, there was the friendship, and in between, the one final conversation. You didn’t expect the spider story to be the last thing you shared with Peter, and no doubt he felt the same way, but life has a habit of tearing people apart. It’s always easier to drift than keep in touch, to leave than make the effort of continually seeking each other out. One moment, you had him all to yourself, and then there was nothing at all.
He had come in with the rain that night, crouched and shivering on the threshold of your window after he crawled up your fire escape for the billionth time in your life. You’ve been friends with Peter Parker since the two of you were kids, and had long since reached the point where it was stranger for Peter not to be at your window than it ever was to see him creeping inside your room late at night.
He memorized the pattern of creaking floorboards in your room a long time ago, where to step and which piles of stuff to avoid so as to not alert your parents to his presence. All this you’ve done many times before, both to hear out his troubles and to share your own, but you have never seen him this afraid before. It doesn’t suit him, the panic, the dread. It makes you uneasy, which in turn makes him worse.
You were still awake at that point, only just beginning to ponder the possibility of sleep, so he didn’t have to disturb you. Peter always said he felt bad whenever he woke you up by accident, but not enough to stop coming. Never enough to stop coming, until now.
He sat in the corner of your room for a while, legs pulled up to his chest, sweating and shaking but not saying much. You’d try to ask him what the matter was, but you got the idea that Peter would speak when he was ready, and he certainly wasn’t ready then.
The story came out in bits and pieces. Peter had managed to con his way into an internship at Oscorp in an attempt to find out more about his father. Instead, he’d run into Gwen Stacy, and subsequently Dr. Curt Connors and his experiments. During a secret reconnaissance venture into the Oscorp labs, he’d managed to find one truly terrible experiment:  spiders, dozens of them, all collected for one mysterious purpose. 
It sounds gross to you, but Peter had apparently been fascinated by the setup. So much so, in fact, that he didn’t notice when one of them bit him. He shows you the bite mark on the back of his neck, which is about as unsettling as one would expect, then tells you more. He’s stronger than he used to be, and by such a massive margin that it’s genuinely alarming. He sticks to things better than glue. He can jump high and withstand force and do a lot of incredible things that no human being should ever be able to do.
All of this he tells you in one great rush, like if he was interrupted once in the process of saying it Peter would never be able to get everything out again. Once he’s done with his story, he leans back and sits there, panting, waiting for your judgment.
You don’t know what reaction he wanted, but you must not have given it to him. It’s the only thing that explains why Peter picked himself up off the floor not much longer after that, leaving your room just as quickly as he entered it. That would be why his presence slackened and dropped off, why you saw him less and less and then not at all. Somehow, you must have disappointed him, and done it enough that he would want no more of you.
It’s not like Peter totally dropped out of society. You were the only one he avoided. You watched from the sidelines as Peter picked fights with Flash, how he started approaching Gwen Stacy with increasing frequency.
He’d told you about Gwen before you know, his little crush. You get it, she’s pretty and smart and very capable, but you were always protected by the fact that she was totally out of his league. Now that Peter is suddenly in top physical shape and doused by a fabulous dose of confidence, though? You’ve seen them on dates, talking by each other’s locker, everything Peter used to dream about.
That leaves you where you are now, cut off from the friend you used to value above all else, unable to do anything but watch him steadily improve in every way without you. After all, this is it. This is Peter’s comeuppance moment, his chance to finally get the life he’s always dreamed of, the girl, the popularity from defeating Flash. This is everything he’s ever wanted, and for once, it does not include you.
So; we have started at the end, we have worked our way back, and now it is time to peer, frightened, at the future. You had Peter and subsequently lost him, the only thing left to do is to learn how to live without him by your side. It is something you thought you wouldn’t have to experience in your entire life. It is the only thing you can count on now.
It makes you angry, even furious. He was your best friend, and he drops you in a flash the second a spider bites him? You could expose him, you think, totally destroy him by just mentioning the fact that he’d been exploring the laboratories at Oscorp when he shouldn’t have. The thought of betraying him like that makes your stomach turn with shame, but also deepens your rage. Peter knows that you could turn him in, and it still wasn’t a good enough reason to stay with you. What a friend indeed.
It comes to a head soon enough. You and Peter are walking down a hallway, starting from opposite sides. You should have just passed by without a single word, but he stumbles and brushes shoulders with you. It was probably an accident, but to you, it was the icing on the cake for Peter’s terrible behavior.
You might not have handled it as you should. You might have muttered a few choice swears under your breath just loud enough that he would hear you, and Peter did. He stopped walking abruptly, face twisting in indignation.
“Well, excuse me,” he says, syllables dripping with irritation.
You stop too, turning around to face him. The anger swooping through your veins makes your entire body hum with satisfaction; this is the fight you’ve wanted for a very long time, a chance to rehash all your grievances now that he’s forced to acknowledge you again.
“Oh, my bad,” you say, “I didn’t think you were aware of what I was saying or doing anymore. My mistake.”
Surprise flashes across Peter’s face, and is replaced with annoyance just as quickly. “Jeez, Y/N, it’s not a big deal. We barely knocked into each other, it’s not like you died or something.”
You scoff. “That’s probably for your own good. I doubt you’d even show up to the funeral.”
Hurt replaces anger in Peter’s eyes. “What are you talking about?”
God, he’s so full of it. Doesn’t know what you’re talking about. He probably doesn’t even think he’s done anything wrong. “I’m talking about the fact that you’ve been avoiding me for weeks now. What, figured you’d dump me the second you could upgrade? Tell Gwen she can keep you, I don’t want to be associated with someone like you anymore.”
Peter starts asking you what you mean by ‘someone like him,’ but you’ve already turned back around and have continued on your path down the hall, footsteps loud and indignant. Peter is soon swallowed up by the crowd of students still trying to get to class, and you’re able to storm away like you’ve won that little argument.
Have you, though? You were hoping for a fight ever since he started dropping you. You were certain that a chance to yell at him and tell him he was wrong would be just what you’ve been wanting all along, but instead of victorious, all you feel is sick and weak. Every verbal blow hurt you just as much as it hurt Peter.
It doesn’t feel good, to be honest. You feel restless the rest of the day, shifting in your seat and unable to concentrate. You hurry home the second the bell rings, and the next day, and the next. You are unhappy, missing every day that you’d had Peter’s friendship, that you hadn’t even thought that you could lose it.
Maybe that’s why you stop being as careful as you usually are. Maybe that’s why you end up walking through the city late at night when you always know better, why you don’t notice the men following you until it’s too late, until two of them are holding up guns to your head and telling you to give them everything.
You freeze, which is stupid, of course, but it doesn’t even occur to you that something like this could possibly happen. They shout at you to get moving, which breaks you from your trance and you start rifling through your pockets for your phone and wallet.
The increase in volume also attracts attention, as it turns out. Before you can hand over a single dollar, someone swoops in from above, knocking out the robbers in a matter of seconds. He turns to you, and when the moon shines on his mask from above you realize you recognize the suit after all. This is Spider-Man, New York’s favorite vigilante.
You’re not so distracted by meeting a superhero in the flesh that you don’t miss his sharp intake of breath. He should have no idea who you are, but– he stops in his tracks anyway, stumbles over his words, asks you frankly what you’re doing out here in a way utterly uncommon to the usually smooth Spider-guy.
Instead of making you pleased that someone’s finally looking out for you, though, you just feel a rush of annoyance. Everyone seems fit to decide what you should and shouldn’t do, don’t they?
You fold your arms over your chest. “Yeah, I know I shouldn’t have been out here. My bad for almost getting robbed.”
Spider-Man raises his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, hey. I’m not trying to victim-blame. Just trying to watch out for you, alright?” A pause, then, “Are you alright, though? Outside of the robbery?”
You should shake your head, plaster on a smile, tell him otherwise. It’s what he expects, what he wants so he can swing away, job well done, and go save someone else.
You crack. God, it feels like it’s been so long since someone actually cared, that even though this guy has no idea who you are and he doesn’t care, not really, even the illusion of it is enough for you to answer him honestly.
“No,” you force out, “I’m miserable. My best friend abandoned me without a care. Nothing makes sense.”
You swear you can sense Spider-Man’s eyes widening behind his suit. “What? No, he wouldn’t have abandoned you. You’re a good person, he wouldn’t do that, Y/N, I wouldn’t– he wouldn’t–”
Your blood runs cold the second you catch his mistake, and you cut off his rambles mid sentence. “How do you know who I am? I never told you my name.”
Spider-Man stumbles backwards slightly, even though you never pushed him. “I– you told me. You did.”
“No,” you insist, “I didn’t. You knew it. You know who I am.”
You narrow your eyes, trying to think about why something about Spider-Man’s voice sounds familiar, and then– “Shit, Peter?”
If Peter had been fidgeting before, moving around slightly to alternate his weight from foot to foot, he goes absolutely stock still now. That’s how you know you’re right. You press a hand to your mouth as if you can force the words back into your throat. “What the hell are you doing, Peter?”
Silence. Then:  “I was saving you.”
You laugh, low in your throat. “What, so you can ignore me in school tomorrow? Great job, I feel very saved indeed.”
You try to push past him, but Peter blocks your path, pulling off his mask in one jerky movement so you’re forced to stare at him. Him, his blown pupils, his mouth forming your name in helpless loops of syllables until it doesn’t sound your name at all but meaningless noise.
“I didn’t want to,” he says quietly, “I didn’t want to leave you, but the things I do– you would have gotten hurt, Y/N, and it would have been my fault, and–”
You’re not willing to let go of your anger quite yet. “You should have told me, then. I would have watched out for both of us.”
“I tried to tell you,” Peter says desperately, “I came to your room the night after I was bit, remember? I told you everything.”
It isn’t enough. Probably never will be. “You could have trusted me enough to keep me around,” you breathe, “You didn’t have to use the bite as an excuse to leave me.”
“It wasn’t an excuse,” he pleads, but you’re not listening anymore.
It may not have been at the start, but it’s how he used it anyway. To leave you. To get Gwen. To get everything he wanted at the cost of your friendship. “I deserve more than this,” you say.
“I know,” he says, “I know.”
He doesn’t. If he did, he never would have left. Peter might still be whispering those same nothings and empty promises even now, hours later. You wouldn’t know; you left him standing there, the wind tearing at his hair. He didn’t try to stop you, and you didn’t try to stay. Maybe he’s lying awake now just like you are, running your brain on endless courses of what could have been and what might still be.
Instead, you’ll be the one avoiding eye contact in the halls, and he’ll be the one driving himself insane to figure out why. You know the truth at last, and the whole affair is finally out of your hands. It does not make you happy to remember all the times you’d been closer than brothers, how you have nothing left anymore, how Gwen has replaced you in every sense than a person can be replaced. It’s okay, though. The unhappy ones stay alive. You’ll be alright. You have to be.
marvel tag list: @mayfieldss, @rogueanschel, @mycosmicparadise, @ellobruv, @callsign-scully, @with-inked-solace, @sher-lokid7, @amortensie-moved, @23victoria, @watchreadfangirlrepeat, @gods-fools-heroes, @w1shes43, @deafsuperhero, @fadedver, @alex-1967s-blog, @crazyhearttragedy
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bxcketbarnes · 2 years
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You Got Me Flowers?
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Pairing: TASM!Peter Parker x Reader
Words: 1900+
So, this is probably the quickest Peter fic I’ve written. This is just pure fucking fluff. Soft ass shit that I need in my life. I hope you guys like it! Let me know what you think!! xox
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Every day. Every fucking day a bouquet shows up on your desk at Oscorp. You're not sure who it's from since there's never a card attached to it. Gwen has her suspicions but she refuses to tell you.
You mumble incoherently to yourself as you walk into Oscorp. You've had a horrible night and it continued into this morning. You quickly pull your hair into a high ponytail while you walk through the turnstile.
"G'morning, my beautiful best friend," Gwen greets you with a smile.
"Morning," you mutter and continue walking towards the elevators. "Why are you so chipper this morning?"
Your blonde friend shrugs her shoulders and steps into the metal box with you. You scoff and shake your head before pressing the button for the sixth floor.
Gwen begins to talk about her night when you step out of the elevator. You listen intently and smile every time she gets excited over something she says. Sure, you're in a bad mood but you don't like to take it out on your friends.
"That's amazing, Gwen. I'm so happy for you. He better not break your heart or I'm killing him," you tell her with a chuckle.
"Oh, I know you will. I'll be sure to tell him," she laughs with you as the two of you walk towards your desk.
The smile slips from your lips at the sight of flowers sitting on your desk. You press your lips together and clear your throat, walking closer to the bouquet. It's different from the ones you've received already. Actually, it's probably your favorite one so far.
"Oh! Those are beautiful," Gwen mentions while taking a step closer to your desk. Her fingertips glide along the delicate petals before glancing back at you. "Aren't these your favorite?"
"Orange roses? Yeah, they are," you mumble and walk towards your computer chair.
You plop yourself into the seat before dragging the bouquet closer to you. You search the bundle of roses for any sort of note.
"Why can't they leave some sort of note?" You sigh while pushing the roses back to their original spot. You turn your gaze towards Gwen and notice her eyes looking towards the elevators.
You follow her gaze to find Peter standing at his desk. The glasses he's wearing sit on the edge of his nose as he sifts through the file in his large hands.
"Is Peter the guy you've been seeing?" You ask her, a hint of jealousy in your voice.
Her eyes quickly shift towards you before she furrows her brows. "What? No, he's not. I didn't even notice he was here. I was, uh, looking at Bryan," she mentions with pink cheeks.
"Bryan," you mumble and look back in Peter's direction. You notice someone else standing beside Peter and you let out a hum. "That's him?"
Gwen smiles and nods her head. "That's him, yeah. He's… he's really great," she fangirls a bit.
You chuckle and bring your attention back to Peter. Your breath hitches in your throat, noticing him looking at you. He smiles at you and waves his hand.
"Hey," you mumble quietly and wave back to him.
"Peter's cute, isn't he?" Gwen suddenly asks while leaning against your desk.
You narrow your brows and look up at your best friend. "I thought you liked Bryan?" You ask her, wondering why she's suddenly asking about Peter.
"I do. Y/N, babe, I've seen the way you look at Peter," she points out and your cheeks flush. "So, he's cute, isn't he?"
"Ye-Yeah, I guess," you shrug your shoulders, playing off the feelings you have for him. After a moment of silence, you clear your throat and stare down at your desk. "Uh, don't you have work to do?"
Gwen laughs and hums, moving to rest her hand on your shoulder. "Yeah, I do. I actually have a meeting, but I'll see you later!" She grins at you while walking away from you.
"See you," you mumble and release a deep sigh when she's out of earshot. You turn back around in your chair and jump a bit at the sight of Peter in front of you. "Jesus, Pete."
He raises his hands in defense and apologizes. "Sorry, didn't mean to sneak up on you," he laughs before running a hand through his hair.
"It's okay. Apparently, you have quiet footsteps," you chuckle and lean your elbows against the desk. You tuck some hair behind your ear as Peter brings his hand to the bouquet in front of him.
"Pretty flowers," he mumbles while looking at you through his lashes. "Who are they from?"
You shrug your shoulders. "I don't know. They never leave a note with it. They're pretty though. I kinda wonder how they figured out my favorite color rose," you mention with a small smile, your fingers daintily touching the petal.
Peter watches you with a faint smile on his lips. He faintly remembers when Gwen mentioned your favorite flower to him after he told her he was the one leaving them on your desk.
"It's really sweet though," you mumble before returning your attention to your work. "I don't think anyone's ever gotten me flowers. So, all of this has been very flattering and I'm not sure how to take it."
"You've never gotten flowers before?" Peter asks you with furrowed brows.
A laugh leaves your lips and you lift your gaze, tapping the cap on the desk. "Pathetic, right?"
"It's not pathetic, Y/N," Peter reassures you and you can see the seriousness in his honey brown eyes. "Men are just trash."
"Calling yourself trash, Peter?" You hum while resting your chin against the palm of your hand.
He smiles down at you and wets his lips. "I wouldn't say I'm trash, but sure," Peter laughs.
You chuckle as well and shake your head. "You're not trash. You're literally one of the kindest people I've ever met," you remind him and lean back in your chair. "Alright, well, I would love to just sit and chat all day but I've got work to do."
"Do you wanna grab dinner sometime? T-That way we could sit and chat for a while?" He stutters, his cheeks becoming flushed.
Your heart skips a beat and you lift your head to look at him again. "L-Like a date?" You ask quietly.
"If you want it to be," Peter whispers and your cheeks start to turn pink. A date with Peter? Your heart pounds against your chest as you nod your head yes.
"Y-Yeah, I'd like that," you smile at him.
He grins down at you and nods. "Great, great. I'll uh, I'll text you?" He nervously rambles while taking a couple of steps back.
You chuckle and bite your lip gently. "Yeah, text me."
-
Gwen watches you as the two of you walk into Oscorp. You've been texting on your phone during the entire train ride to work, and she wonders who you've been texting.
"What's gotten you so giddy?" She nudges your arm with a smile on her lips.
"O-Oh," you stutter and shove your phone into your pocket. You clear your throat while pulling out your badge. "Uh, Peter."
Her blue eyes widen as the two of you move through the turnstile. "No fucking way! What?! Did something happen?" She asks, slapping your arm gently.
Your cheeks blush and you release an embarrassing groan. "Gwen, stop! We just went out to dinner," you explain to her as you both walk towards the elevator.
"The two of you went to dinner? Did he walk you home? Kiss you at your door? Tell me, tell me," she questions excitingly.
"He didn't kiss me. He did walk me home and he may have asked for a second date," you say with pink cheeks. Your heart flutters in your chest as that night flashes before your eyes. "He's really cute."
You and Gwen walk into the elevator, pressing the button to the third floor. "You two are so cute already and it's not even official yet," she sighs while placing a hand over her heart.
"Shut up," you push her playfully as the elevator doors open back up.
When you step out, you feel your phone vibrating in your back pocket. You swiftly pull the device out and see a text from Peter. The smile on your lips widens as you read over the two words.
Look up.
You furrow your brows and look up from your phone. A gasp leaves your lips as Peter stands in front of your desk with a bouquet in his hands. You look around, noticing other co-workers watching and your hands start to become clammy.
Gwen rests a hand on your shoulder, capturing your attention. "Don't worry about everyone else. I'll get them to stop watching. Go get your man," she smiles while nodding her head in Peter's direction.
"Okay," you whisper and walk towards Peter. Your fingers fumble with one another as you stand about a foot in front of him. "Morning, Pete."
He smiles at you and hands the bouquet to you. "Morning, honey. I, uh, I got you these," Peter mumbles softly.
The smile on your lips widens as you take the bundle of roses in your hands. You inhale the scent and take a step closer to him. "You got me flowers?" You ask him with a cute pout.
He brings his hand to your face and gently strokes your cheek. "I've been getting you flowers every day for weeks," Peter confesses and your heart skips a beat.
Your eyes widen and your grip on the stems tightens. A sharp pain shoots through one of your fingers, causing you to look down at your hands.
"Shit, honey," he mutters and reaches for your hand. Blood drips down your fingers and Peter takes the roses from you. He sets them onto your desk before grabbing some tissues.
"S-Sorry, I just… you? You've been leaving me flowers?" You ask him as he cleans your finger up.
He nods his head in answer and moves to grab a first aid kit. You watch him grab a band aid from the white container before he makes his way back to you.
"I wanted to leave notes but I was way too nervous that you wouldn't like me," Peter whispers and places the band aid over your wound.
A frown settles on your lips and you bring your non-wounded hand to his face. "I've liked you for months," you confess to him and his brown eyes flit up to you.
"Really?"
"Yeah," you giggle before closing the space between the two of you. You can hear Peter's breath hitch in his throat as your lips press against his.
He leans into you, kissing you back with just as much passion as you're giving. His hands move to your cheeks, his thumbs gently stroking your cheekbones.
"Whoop!" Gwen cheers loudly from behind you. You pull away from Peter with a laugh and he rests his forehead on yours.
"She's never gonna let this go," you whisper against his lips.
Peter's hands glide down to the nape of your neck. "No, she won't. Which means we'll just be extra cute around her to the point where she'll leave," he jokes with you.
You bite your lip gently and giggle. "Perfect idea."
"We should probably get back to work," he suggests while pulling back from you. "Come over tonight."
Butterflies swarm around your stomach and you nod your head. "Okay, yeah," you agree before leaning on your toes to kiss his cheek. "I'll be over around seven?"
"Sounds wonderful, honey. I can't wait," he smiles down at you.
-
Taglist: @jeanettexkillian @undf-stuff @softyutae @theonlymaddie @queenofshinigamis @stewielover95 @foreverrogers​ @writing-for-marvel​ @softtdaisy​ @xoxoloverb​ @onlyfreds​ @corneliastreetinstyle​ @avenjames-anderson​ @marvelouswinchester​ @0-0-sunflower-0-0​ @sincericida​ @leleea @jessalyn-jpeg​ @paw-sneeze​ @apeainapot​ @thewxntersoldier​ @reddesert-healourblues​
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blushstories · 2 years
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tasm!peter parker masterlist
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back to main
☀ = > 500 notes
❤ = personal favourite
oneshots ・❥・
water under the bridge ❤ ☀
summary: an accident during a fight gives peter minutes to save you from suffocating waters. (angst, hurt/comfort)
drabbles ・❥・
blurbs ・❥・
peter reassures you for the new school year
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gaymansruse · 2 years
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f r e n i m i e s
𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤 .𝟎𝟏
TASM!Peter Parker x Fem!Reader [academic rivals??]
Summary → You and Peter never really liked each other, you were the preppy honour roll student that knew everyone and he was the quiet overachiever that usually kept to himself.. What happens when the two of them are forced to work together.
Warnings → Mild swearing, awkwardness between reader and peter because ugh teenage crushes are always awkward. other than that its just your typical academic rivals story sorta.
Word Count → 1.7k+
A/N → I haven't written anything in over a year due to my own laziness and lack of motivation, I don't expect this to be perfect, but this is also my first time posting any of my work. Critcism is welcome! Happy reading <3
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The day was passing by slower than usual, you didn't share any classes with your friends and couldn't hang out with them during your breaks because you were helping one of the teachers out with setting up the hall for the yearly play.
It was currently last period and you were exhausted, thinking you only had a another hour to endure until you could go home and sleep.
That is until He walked in.
Peter Parker.
You had forgot of his existence in your brief moment of peace, too bad all nice things come to an end.
There were at least 3 empty seats in class today, but he just had to take the one right next to you.
"[y/l/n]" He said, smirking at you, as if knowing he ruined your mood.
"Parker." You said in return, annoyence very clear in your tone. "You look greasy today, did you forget to shower?"
"Yes actually, thank you for noticing, who knew you paid such close attention to me."
"It's not that unoticable if you look shiny."
"Isn't that a good thing? You look shiny constantly."
"What? No I don't." Feeling somewhat self concious you pulled out your small pocket mirror to check. Of course he was lying.
"Wow, you really care about what I say."
"Shut up and do your work, Parker."
"Whatever you say, [y/l/n]."
Does he always have to get the last word in? Why is his voice so unbelievably annoying? How do you forget to shower? How does he still look so cute though? Ew no, he doesn't stop thinking that, he's gross and greasy and him and his charming stupid smile arent't gonna win today.
You snap back to reality when the teacher starts reading out names in pairs. Shit, you should have been listening.
"Peter Parker and [y/n] [y/l/n]."
H e h ?
"Looks like we're partners now [y/l/n]"
"Oh god no." You whisper to yourself, Peter clearly heard considering he had a shit eating grin on his face.
"So.. Partner, Whatcha feel like doing for the project?"
"I- ugh, I wasn't paying attention."
"Hmm? What was that?"
"I said I wasn't paying attention." I whisper yelled at him. something tells me he already knew, because that stupid smile stayed the same.
"Well that just means I have to come over to your house so we can discuss it."
"What why? We have like 40 minutes of the lesson left anyway."
"Too late, I already made up my mind."
"Parker, I'm serious, the rest of this lesson is probably to discuss our projects anyway."
"Oh well, you're clearly not paying attention, so might as well do it when we get to your place."
"Oh my lord, if you're so insistent on this why can't we just go to your place?"
"Oooh, you just wanna see where I sleep don't you? What a freak."
"No, I'm just not allowed boys over."
"O-oh."
"Yeah, o-oh."
"Well then I guess I could let you over to my place, just be warned I live with my aunt May so.."
"I just hope she's cooler than you."
•❀•
The rest of the lesson was unusually silent between you and Peter, usually there was some type of comment here and there, but for some reason he didn't say anything.
You knew you hadn't done anything wrong, but it sorta felt like it you had.
When the bell rang you quickly packed up and waited for Peter to do the same, but it seemed like he was taking his time.
"Can you hurry up?"
"Are you really that excited to come over?"
"No, I just want to get this over and done with."
"Right, sure you do."
He had finially picked up his stuff and walked out of the classroom without looking back to see if you were following.
You tried to catch up to him without bumping into anyone, continuously saying sorry, excuse me and pardon me until you finally caught up to him.
How does he walk so fast.
"Do you have to walk so fast?"
"Do you have to walk so slow?"
"I was not walking slow."
"Seems to me like you were."
"You're a child."
In response he just gave a cute annoying grin and grabbed your arm so you wouldn't fall behind again.
Blood rushed to your cheeks and your skin tingled where he was holding. You wanted to push his arm off but then again you didn't. Why? you didn't know.
•❀•
He didn't live super far away from the school, but far enough that it was about a 30 minute walk to his apartment. When you got there a voice instantly greeted Peter in a cheerful tone, not realising you were there yet.
She was faced away from the door, stirring a pot of sauce over the stove.
"Hey aunt May! How was your day?"
"Oh my day was just fine dear." She turned around with a bright smile on her face, her aura bright and welcoming. Her eyes shifted to me, her smile somehow growing wider.
"Hello, I'm [y/n]. It's lovely to meet you." You couldn't help but smile as you spoke, something about her just made you so unbelievably happy.
"Oh Peter's told me all about you dear." She walked up to you with her arms wide and hugged you.
Peter's talked about me?
You look over to Peter to see him cringing at the statement, but there's still a light tink of pink on his cheeks. "Okay aunt May, that's enough, we need to do our school work now, so if you could please stop holding her hostage, that'd be great."
"Holding me hostage? I'd much rather stay out here with May than go work on our project with you."
"Well too bad." He said while grabbing my arm and dragging you to his room.
"I'll be back for you May!"
She let out a hearty laugh and went back to cooking.
Once in Peters room he sat down on his bed and pulled out his school books, while you stood awkwardly near the door.
"You can sit down on my bed if you want, I also I a chair near my desk too." He said while looking up at you. Before you could answer though, he spoke again. "I'm gonna go for a quick shower, don't wanna be all greasy. I'll be right back."
And at that he sped out of the room to where you would assume the bathroom is.
I guess it wouldn't hurt to look around..
You set down your bag on his bed and glanced around the room, he had posters of various different franchises, his bed situated in in the corner near the window and the sheets ruffed and untidy from when he sad on it.
Near the door was his desk that had several books on string theory and quantum physics. Interesting. But tthere were also sheets that were filled with his writing on different formulars, you weren't exactly interesting in looking at chemisty equations so you moved your eyes elsewhere.
You noticed there was a book peeking out from under his bed, you picked it up to see there was no title, and its pages where quite thick.
You flicked through it, realising it was all pictures of random things, with a few words written underneath them, you kept skimming through until you saw a picture of yourself, and the words underneath read.
Looking at her is like looking at the sun, it hurts but it's just so beautiful to not look at. Knowing she'll never like me in the same way just means I can admire her beauty from afar.
Just as you were about to flip to another page, you heard the door open. "I told you I'd be quick." Peter walked in with a smile, his hair wet from the shower, and his clothes looked baggier and more comfy.
His smile dropped when he saw what you was holding, and it turned into a frown when he saw what page you were on. "Did nobody ever tell you not to snoop?"
"I'm sorry Peter, I didn't know what it was and when I realised I couldn't stop looking."
"It's not that you couldn't, you just didn't want to. How self centered to you have to be to look through peoples stuff thinking you can do what you want?"
His saddness quickly turned to anger, and rightfully so, you shouldn't have looked through his stuff.
"Peter I'm really sorry, truly."
"You are so spoiled to think I'd forgive you for this."
His voice raised a bit but not loud anout to alert aunt May.
"I don't expect you to forgive me, I'm just saying sorry, I can leave now if you want."
At that point he noticed how sad you looked, like you genuinely meant what you were saying. "No, no. It's fine, it's not that big of a deal, I shouldn't have gotten mad."
"But you did and that's totally fine. I shouldn't have looked through your stuff."
That's when you realised what exactly you had read, and blood rushed to your cheeks.
After a minute of silence, neither of you knowing what to say, you asked, "Did you mean it?"
"Mean what?"
"What you wrote."
"Yeah.. Does that bother you?" His eyes flickered down to the floor, as if waiting for you to say it does, that you don't like him.
"No, it doesn't. I just thought you hated me is all."
"How could anyone hate you, even when you're mean, you're nice."
"Oh."
"Oh?"
"Oh."
"How do you feel about me?"
"I- I think I like you.."
"You think?"
"I don't know, I'd like to get to know you more."
"I think thats a great idea."
"Really?"
"I mean yeah, I didn't expect a love confession or anything, maybe just an agreement to a date."
"I can do that."
"So you'll go on a date with me?"
"Yeah, I will."
"Cool, cool, cool."
That's when he started smiling, "So, how long have you liked me?"
"I said I think I like you Parker, don't get it twisted."
"Right, right. That's why you agreed to go on a date with me."
"I can easily take it back."
"Yeah you could, but you don't want to."
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luveline · 6 months
Note
hiiii jade!!!! could i please request something with peter with reader who’s maybe put on some weight recently and is insecure about it?? (totally not self indulgent at all) i totally get it if you’re not comfortable writing that stuff though so no pressure
hi lovely! ty for requesting. fem, 1k
cw for negative weight talk/ weight gain
Everybody gains weight during the holidays, you think, tracing your figure in the mirror. Though it's not strictly holiday season yet, it's edging toward the end of the year. Maybe my new year's resolution should be losing a few pounds. 
There's a thunk of the bedroom window being yanked open and footsteps across the floor. You tense until your hear Peter panting for breath, likely having swung to you at high speed, or fresh from a fight with an usurped criminal. 
You rush back into your t-shirt, knowing exactly what path he'll walk. He barrels into the bathroom, sees you at the mirror and smiles so wide his cheeks look fit to burst. "Hey," he says, peeling the suit off and exposing his boxers to you without shame, "hey hey hey. Can I persuade you in with me?" He nods toward the shower. 
"Not this time, Pete." 
"Too bad," he laments. 
You look away as he strips out of his underwear. The shower turns on and he takes you by the hips to move you out of his way with a murmured apology, near lost to the drum of the spray. Peter has moments where he doesn't know his own strength, but the majority of the time he treats you like you're something precious. 
"Stay in here!" he demands as he pulls the curtain shut. 
"I'm not going anywhere." You close the toilet and sit on the lid. "Tough day protecting the people?" 
"Apart from tripping into a deceptively large pothole, it was fine. Why won't you come in here with me? I wanna rub your shoulders." 
"You want me to wash your hair." 
"Exactly. So get naked and get in here. Don't make me beg." 
You really don't want to, and you're not going to, but it's not a big problem. Peter doesn't truly mind, he just loves you. "What do you mean, deceptively big? Like, knee height? Higher?" 
"Mid thigh, I'd say. The people of New York are never gonna let me live it down. One guy was recording me and said he was gonna put it on YouTube for the ad money." 
"Anything else?" 
He gives you the rundown, describing what perps he faced and an older man he helped use an ATM machine. You hum distractedly, pinching at the fat where it spreads on your thigh, sitting down as you are. 
He sticks his face through the curtain gap, hair slicked to his cheeks. "What're you doing?" 
"You told me to stay, so I'm staying." 
He's nervous for a split second, glancing back into the shower as though there's an answer there waiting for him before angling himself toward you fully, his naked chest dripping and shining in the bathroom light. "Okay, fine, we need to talk about something. But I want you to know that you forced my hand here. Okay?" 
"Okay." You nibble the inside of your lip, used to his theatrics. "What have I done?" 
"It's not something you've done. It's something you are. I can't even say it. I," —he pulls the curtain in front of his face, moves it aside again– "just need to tell you. Lately it's like you don't even realise how beautiful you are and I'm tired of it. You're radiant. Like, glowing." 
Your recent internal debate must show on your face, that doubt, because he gives you a steadying smile. "Really, really beautiful," he says more seriously.
It's easy to smile at him. "Thank you, Pete." You scoop his suit off of the floor. "I'll go scrub the tetanus out of this in the kitchen sink." 
"Wait–" 
He can't just get out with suds in his hair, giving you the perfect escape plan. You have ten minutes to yourself filling the sink with soapy water and steeping the fabric before he's out of the bedroom in pyjamas, trousers tucked into his socks and hair damp from ferocious towel scrubbing. "You're such a– such a– thing," he decides. "I'm telling you you're beautiful and you walk off so you don't have to hear it? What's wrong with you?" His voice slips into a kinder register. "You do know you're pretty, right? I'm not just saying it to say it." 
"I'm just feeling icky," you confide. 
"About what?" 
You want to tell him, you find. "You know how I've gained weight?" 
He doesn't need any more explanation. Peter knows you've gained weight, you've mentioned it to him, and it's visual, and he can likely tell whenever he decides to flex his strength. "What, and you think that makes you less pretty?" He puts a damp hand behind your neck to bring you forward. "Seriously?"
"Yeah, a little." 
He kisses you. His nose bumps your nose, his lips crushed to your as he holds you in place. Despite this, it isn't an overly rough connection. It's definitely not shy. "You're beautiful," he says in the space between your lips. 
"It doesn't suit me–" 
"It does. It really fucking suits you. Have you seen yourself? You couldn't look better." 
"Even when I was thinner?" 
"You look just as perfect then as you did now." His intensity fades and he encourages you back enough to see your face, his thumb rubbing a short line into your neck. His brows are furrowed, dark eyes darker for it. "Weight isn't a factor." 
"No, but you have to say that." 
"I don't. Not really. I'm sure there are a thousand shitty guys who'd tell you something different, but I'm not– I love you, the whole you. I like you like this." He grins. "Which should be obvious." 
You tsk at him, to his delight, his laughter boyish as he buries his face in your neck with a hug, kissing a messy circle up and into the soft line of your jaw. You trap him there without thinking, chin hooked down, squirming as he blows hot air into your skin. 
"I've been putting it on too," he says. "It's happy weight." 
"It's not happy weight for you, Pete, it's just more muscle." 
"It makes you happy, doesn't it?" he jokes, smiling and kissing and hugging you all at once. "Just like it does on you for me."
3K notes · View notes
withahappyrefrain · 9 months
Note
I’m just *know* peter is the kind of guy to pound into you before giving you the softest most gentle kiss
He absolutely is! 18+! We have some size kink because I'm a basic bitch.
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"Peter." Your voice was barely above a whisper, strained and desperate. Hands clutched his dark locks, tangling yourself further with him.
"I'm right here ladybug," His words did little to soothe the throbbing ache between your legs. You needed him, all of him.
"Please." You try to cant your hips upwards, in a pathetic attempt to get more of him. And he knew exactly what you were trying to do, able to hold your hips down to the mattress.
"Just gotta ease in ya, 'kay?" A whine escaped your lips upon feeling his cock sink further into you. It felt so good and yet still not enough.
Peter pressed a kiss to your collarbone, "I know, doing so good for me. Taking me so well."
He was always gentle when it had been awhile since you two were intimate. Insisted on easing into you, getting you reacquainted with the sheer size of him.
Whines became all out groans as he bottomed out. Back arching in pleasure, you threw your head back as you reveled in the fullness you now felt.
"Feel so fucking good bug," Peter groans into your skin, feeling practically drunk off your scent.
"I-Peter-fuck." Your head is too busy spinning from how divine it feels when his cock brushes against that one spot.
Peter can't help but let out a chuckle, the corners of his eyes slightly creasing, "Already bug? I just started."
"Oh fuck off," the last word goes from intelligible to babble due to Peter finally increasing the pace of his thrusts.
All you could do was cling onto him as your body was submerged in total pleasure. It felt amazing to be full of him once more, to be consumed by only him. The scent of cinnamon was filling your nostrils, your fingers could feel every scar and mark on his body.
He pushed himself off of you, ignoring your whines as he sat up.
"Peter-"
"Just trust me bug."
That wasn't hard. You trusted him with your whole heart, with every fiber of your being.
His large calloused hands wrapped themselves around each of your ankles, bringing your legs up to his shoulders.
"Pete-oh!"
The new angle allowed him to thrust even deeper. Your fingers quickly found the bedsheets, grasping the fabric as your body was entirely at his mercy.
"You're s'pretty like this bug. All spread out just for me."
Heat flooded your body from his words. You could feel his honeyed eyes on you, taking in the way your breasts bounced with every thrust.
"Fuck, l-ladybug," Peter's voice faltered as your tight walls clenched his cock.
"P-Peter," you could barely get out his name. All you could focus on was how his cock perfectly found the spot that was making you start to see stars. You were on your way, given the way your thighs began to shake, the way the coil in your stomach was whining up.
"Whatcha need bug? C'mon, use your words, you can do it."
You whined, a hand trailing past your breasts to where your body and Peter's connected.
He moved your hand away from your body, replacing it with his own. Fingers far thicker than your own, calloused from years of hard work, found your clit, rubbing tight circles on the sensitive bundle.
"That's what ya needed, huh? Your poor little clit, I'm sorry bug."
"Th-thank you- fuck!" The last word was screamed, your release hitting you like a freight train. Peter didn't relinquish his intense thrusting, continuing with his ministrations to help you ride out your high.
It felt like you were falling, white hot pleasure coursing through your body. Your eyes fluttered closed, seeing stars as you rode out the wave.
Peter watched you carefully, looking out for any signs of you coming down from your high. Once the loud moans had turned into whimpers, he gently placed your legs down, bending down so his chest hovered over yours.
"Bug?" You felt his thumb stroking your cheek. Upon opening your eyes, you found Peter, his face inches away from yours.
"There she is, my ladybug," He said gently before pressing a kiss to your forehead, "C'mere."
His arms wrapped themselves around your waist, helping you sit up as he pulled you into his lap.
"You okay?" He asked. You nodded, still trying to catch your breath.
"Good." His fingers hooked themselves under your chin, allowing him to tilt your head up.
His lips met yours, gently pressing against yours. His kisses were warm and comforting, always making you feel safe and loved. This particular one was soft, a stark contrast from moments ago.
"You did such a good job ladybug," His lips moved from yours to your cheek, peppering your skin, "You wanna keep going or do you want to take a break?"
"Can we take a break? I want you to come but I need time-"
"We have all the time in the world bug."
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irndad · 7 months
Note
TULIP WITH THE GUY EVER
this is for peter!! im feral for this man my god this is long for nothing happening- guys i am SO fucking rusty prompt: an act of affection so blatant everyone notices roommate!peter &lt;;3 flower prompts
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It’s hard not to look at her. 
There’s so much to observe, so much to place his attention on- how she smiles, the way she taps the sides of her mugs before she sips her tea. She’s a vision in red lipstick and he’s the kind of person that’s blessed to be in her presence. 
It’s a Friday night, and there’s a sweet sort way that she curls into herself. She’s been his friend for just about a minute longer than he’s been in love with her, and he’d like to think he does a decent job at hiding this fact.
He landed on his hip today, from a height far enough off the ground that it still hurts, pain radiating from every step as he walks home. The commute is actually quite far from his internship at the newspaper, but he likes the area he lives, and the woman whose company he keeps while he lives there. He makes concessions. 
Still, he’d been looking forward to the sight of her since the ache began. Her presence had a way of soothing. 
She’s curled up onto an inherited recliner in their shared apartment, and when he bursts their creaky door open in a fluid motion, he’s greeted with this sight. She’s not alone- some friends from her graduate program on their Ikea couch. 
It’s girls night, and it’s his dutiful role to say a quick quip and head back to his room. Her two best friends are over, legs splayed over each other in an open display of affection that he adores witnessing. He could hear the laughter and yelling from outside the apartment itself. He likes how they make her laugh, how they seem to make her heart lighter when he can tell she’s not able to carry the weight of everything by herself. 
“Peter!” She’s the first to even notice he’s around, and he tries not to let the stubborn firework in his chest keep exploding at the thought of it. At the thought, she sees me. Her voice is warm and kind and weightless, and he drinks in  the sight of her. Their floor lamp illuminates her in warm golden light, a coupe glass with red wine held in delicate fingers. 
“Hey, you,” he replies, an unmistakable warmth he can’t seem to rid himself of in his tone. He tries not to seem disappointed, like he’d not been imagining watching an irrelevant TV show, a little too close together until they’d fallen asleep just that way.
As he’s hanging his withered coat, he asks, “What are you guys up to tonight?”
Her friend explains that they are watching the Spy Kids trilogy in order, and she nods dutifully along. 
“That sounds wonderful,” he can’t help but laugh. “I’ll leave you guys be-“ 
And it’s no surprise, when they send a him a chorus of please join, and you’re welcome to be here! 
She stands up to give him a hug goodnight (because she wants to kill him), and he envelops her before he can stop himself. She smells like a mixture of lavender and rose and sweet red wine, and he’s grateful for his heightened senses for a moment; it doesn’t take long to memorize it all. 
It occurs to him that he won’t see her until morning, and he takes in the sight of her again, eyes raking over her. She really is beautiful- lovely in a way that radiates her smile, follows her in action. His hands rest on the curve of her waist, and something and things being made to fit one another cross his mind, against his better judgement. God, he could spend forever looking at her, longer touching her. 
He only pulls away when he hears a muffled pair of laughs, failed attempts at not interrupting a moment. Which is absurd, because there is no moment. None. 
She beams at him despite the laughter of those she holds dear, and it aches saying goodbye to her. She's just down the hall and it hurts to leave.
He slinks off to his bedroom smelling like her perfume, blushing bright red and maybe, just maybe, the tiniest bit hopeful. And he thinks he might of heard the faint whisper of two other people, whispering questions he mulls over every day.
"Just roommates, huh?"
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ddejavvu · 9 months
Note
'you're a very good kisser.' - send me a request for a baby blurb! give me a character, and a plotline, and i'll write you a little fanfiction :)
omg what about tasm!peter taking you to the library for a ‘study date’ but you just end up kissing in the history section oops 🤭
join my 20K celebration!
'you're a very good kisser.' - send me a request for a baby blurb! give me a character, and a plotline, and i'll write you a little fanfiction :)
--
Everything's going fine, more than that, actually, until a textbook digs into your spine. Peter's too far gone to realize that your squirming is out of discomfort rather than pleasure, and you have to push against his chest to get him to break away from the kiss he's pressing you against the shelves with.
He blinks dazedly, his lips slick with spit as he pants slightly.
"What- what's wrong?"
"There's-" You reach behind you, squinting at the cover of the book you'd been bruised by, "Napoleon decided to join us."
"Oh," He laughs softly, keeping his voice down in case anyone comes to bust you for using the library inappropriately, "I think that's why we're not supposed to make out in the library."
Despite his previous statement, he leans in for another kiss.
"Peter," You mumble, unable to resist the temptation to reciprocate. He kisses you firm and steady, but you peck his lips once, twice, "Peter, I think we should move."
"Mmm okay." He hums, nose still prodding at your cheek, lips on your own, "Romance section?"
"Bedroom," You worm out of his grip, taking his hand and dragging him towards the exit. He follows eagerly, nodding with a hazy grin.
"That- that works, too." He decides, "Much less dusty."
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venus616 · 1 year
Note
Hi!! Requesting a spicy tasm!peter fic where he puts his photography skills to use if ya know what I mean 🔥🫶🏽
his muse; {p.p.}
Pairing: peter parker x f!reader (gif is tasm but you can interpret this as any peter parker)
Summary: peter puts his photography skills to use when you're naked
Warnings: established relationship, smut, vaginal fingering/sex, oral sex (blowjob), praise kink (if you squint), photos during sex, language, unprotected sex, 18+, NSFW
Word Count: 3.8k
A/N: hi. i love this trope So Much… like more than you will ever know, but bc i love it and i’ve seen it done multiple times with peter i was very scared to even do anything with it sjnksks but here is my finished product, i hope you like it~
(Also- it is my gift to anyone who actually likes reading my content bc ive been gone for a While and will be gone for another 2-3 weeks bc finals are not fun! so i hope this is good, enjoy!)
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You’re putting away your shared laundry when you hear a loud noise on your window sill. You don’t even flinch this far into your relationship and only shake your head, separating your clothes from his. The window opens letting in a cool breeze and Peter’s book bag hits the ground before he gets inside. 
It's only then you look and give his body, clad in his suit, a scan and smile. “You okay?” You ask. The sun already set and the crisp winter air started to fill the room. 
He scoffs before shutting the window. You turn your body around from the basket in front of you to see Peter shaking his head while taking his camera out of his bag.
The professional camera Peter spent a year saving up for when he was 18 was sat next to your much less efficient Polaroid camera. On it, there was a photo of you two celebrating your anniversary together recently. The flash showing you kissing Peter on the cheek, he’s blushing at the attention and eyes closed from the flash. 
Peter smiled at the memory before he continued speaking. 
“Why do people think it’s okay to commit crime when I’m just getting off my shift?” He sighed before setting down his bag next to your bed.
“They’re so inconsiderate,” You pout playfully while folding his clothes into his reserved drawer at your place.
Peter looks up from unpacking and focuses on your ass poking up from your position. You feel his eyes on you as your t-shirt hangs loosely on your body, and the hair on your legs prick up from the cold in the room.
Peter takes off his mask revealing his disheveled hair and takes in the sight of you like it’s his last.
Your lacy underwear decorating the plump flesh of your butt, reminding Peter of how quickly he had to leave this morning before getting to appreciate for bandaging him up last night.
His eyes continued to scan up, seeing the old t-shirt frame your shape, admiring it as if he had x-ray vision.
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”
Peter is brought out of his thoughts hearing your soft voice, taunting him for his staring problem.
“Don’t tempt me,” Peter quips back. He shakes his head before tossing his mask in your empty hamper. Sitting on your bed and bending over to remove his boots, his ears don’t miss your footsteps as you saunter to him.
You place your feet in between his while he looks back up to you, removing the rest of his suit. 
“It’s never stopped you before,” You cross your arms while he slips out of his suit, leaving his web shooters on. The suit is strewn across the floor and your eyes focus on Peter’s body. 
No matter how beat up he was, Peter remains to be the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. You ran your hands over his, now, yellow ribs. Compared to the purple constellation he had yesterday, you were grateful for his superhuman healing. 
He had a nasty fall yesterday, left with some scars and bruising, but thankfully this time you didn’t have to stitch him up. 
You even notice the scratch on his arm is almost gone but Peter liked wearing your special bandaids. He likes giving you a reason to buy more cartoon ones for him. 
Peter watches your eyes carefully scan his body for anything else and adores you for it. Still, he hates making you worry.
“You weren’t naked before.”
A smile creeps up on your face, a giggle disguised as a scoff when you answer: “I’m not naked.”
You don’t realize you set yourself up for Peter’s response until he smirks. His hands snake up underneath your shirt to toy with your nipples, already hard because of the cold air lingering in the room. 
A hiss escapes your mouth at feeling his larger, colder hands grip your boobs. Peter slightly grins at his effect on you. He pulls at the bottom of your shirt before raising it up your body. You oblige, pulling it over your head to toss it across your room.
His face lit up at your frontal nudity, hands placed on either side of your hips tugging at your underwear. 
“Let’s change that.” 
You roll your eyes at his response, but not without a smile plastered on your face. You could feel the heat pooling in between your thighs and the excitement in your stomach. 
“What position should I be in?” You shudder under his callus fingers. Peter lightly furrows his eyebrows when you turn, gesturing to your polaroid camera from your bedside table. 
His face relaxes when he registers what you guys are doing, not realizing how serious you were being. 
Your eyes flicker up and down his body when you turn to face him, noticing his erection bulging out of his briefs. Leaning down you use your hand to palm him through the fabric, feeling his cock pulsate in your hand.
“On your knees,” You whip your head up when Peter says that, his hands still roaming around your body. 
You quirk your eyebrow up in response. Pressing your forehead and nose to his, you plant a kiss onto his lips. Your hands are now on either of his thighs, sinking lower onto the ground as the kiss deepens. 
Before you can fully get down, you hear a light thwip and break the kiss. 
You see Peter’s wrist is flicked out with his web shooters activated, latched on to your polaroid camera. There’s a glint of mischief in his eyes before he pulls it into his hands.
Resting on your knees, you’re before him with your fingers tracing the waistband of his boxers. You carefully watch for his reactions, but he’s refamiliarizing himself with your flimsy camera you got in your teenage years as a novelty.
You cross your arms on his legs and look up at him, the camera points at you and all you can focus on is his wide smile behind the camera. “Let’s see if I still know how this works,” Peter jokes.  
You repose with both your hands on your knees, pushing your breasts out in between your arms. You didn’t realize they were hardly the focus of the photo (but still included, Peter was only human after all). 
The photo snaps and you remember you have to get used to the flash again. Blinking a few times to get used to the discomfort, the photo prints out and Peter seems pleased with himself already. 
“It hasn’t even developed yet,” You taunt, you resume palming him as you assume that was the extent of his practice shots. 
Peter shrugs while shaking the photo as gently as possible. “Hey, who’s the photographer here? I know a good subject when I see it,” He nudges you. 
When the photo barely develops, he shows you and you see yourself: half naked on your knees with your face fully in the photo. You were surprised he included that much of your face, and managed to catch you looking as confident as you could. But it was easy when Peter was behind the camera, he never fails to make you feel like his only muse. 
You blush and look away from the photo as you continue to massage him. Peter’s breath hitches at the rate at which you go at, and you smirk to yourself. 
No matter how much control Peter took in bed, he wasn’t afraid to show you how quickly he’d fold for you. It was one of the many things you appreciated about him. Another one was just how vocal he was, his whimpers before you even got to touch him were making your underwear dampen. 
When his dick starts twitching, you pull his boxers down, his cock slaps up to his stomach while he watches your movements. Locking eyes with him, you wrap both your hands around his shaft before slowly jacking him off. 
You’re mesmerized by the way his body is flexed under your touch, you almost don’t hear what he says. 
“Your mouth,” He breathes out. 
You sit up higher on your knees and kiss up his happy trail, lingering when you get closer to his cock. You hear his groan and look up, meeting his eyes.
You raise your eyebrows. “My mouth, what?” 
Your lips quirk up again, teasing him. “Use your words.” 
He rolls his eyes in response but you shake your head.  “I can stop,” You remind him. 
His brown eyes almost bulge out his head when you say that, wrapping his own hand over yours to stop your movements from pausing. He leans over to get closer to your face, the scent of you surrounding him. Peter’s face softens at your smugness. 
“Baby,” He starts. You wait to listen to how he pleads for you to stay while he leads your hands.  
“I need that pretty mouth of yours to suck my cock,” He gasps out and removes his hand when you loosen your wrist in response. Your eyes soften at the praise and Peter mentally celebrates when he leans back to his original position. 
You reposition yourself as well, with your neck getting to work as you lick a stripe underneath the shaft of his cock. Peter sharply inhales at the feeling and brings his head back up. 
You lock eyes with him when you feel the jolt in his body and open your mouth in an ‘O’ shape around the head of his cock. 
Relaxing your throat, you lower your head on his length and feel the tip of his cock hitting your uvula before you begin bobbing your head. 
Caught off guard, you could taste the saltiness of his precum on your tongue now. You gagged a bit and popped off him to lick it off in the most obscene way you could think of. 
Peter mutters, “Just like that.” and you look up. 
Forgetting he had a camera, the shutter went off to capture your tongue on the underside of his wet tip. 
You collect more saliva in your mouth while you run your hand up and down his shaft. Feeling prepared enough, you go back down on him with the drool dripping on his cock on your hands. 
Peter went crazy at the heat of your mouth and the sight of your lips around him. The only thought he had was to get the camera out again to keep this moment forever.
Getting slack jawed at this, he tangles his hands in your hair but doesn’t change your pace. He only starts pushing it out of your face as it gets in the way. 
You look up at him and see Peter pointing the camera at you as you have half his cock in your mouth. The first shot is taken, and he tries to not move too much as the photo prints out immediately.  He releases a few breathy moans at the pace you're going at while he places the new photo on the side. 
Peter silently gestures to you to get him out your mouth so you release him with a pop, flipping your hair to the side as you continue to jack him off.
“That’s good,” He mutters, when he places the camera at his eye before snapping a new photo. 
“I probably look insane,” You grumble, already feeling self conscious at how messy your hair looks, coupled alongside the drool and precum at your mouth. 
Peter shakes his head and pulls you in closer by your waist and you yelp, finding yourself now pinned under him on the bed. 
“Never,” He shakes his head, attaching his mouth to your tit as he pulls your underwear off. You immediately moan at his aggression on your sensitive nipples and he chuckles against your skin when he feels you flinch. 
Peter’s calloused hands find your clit and start massaging it, and you throw your head back in pleasure when he finds his rhythm. 
You feel a twinge of disappointment when he removes his mouth from your tits but you look up to see the camera watching you, and a shutter going off before you are even ready.
“Pete,” You warn. Your sternness doesn’t last when he slips in a finger in your embarrassingly wet cunt. You almost mewl at how full he makes you with just one finger. 
“You looked so pretty moaning like that,” Peter explains while his finger curls into you. He knew what he was doing when he smiled again, leaning down to kiss you on the lips.
Your annoyance was no match for his desperation as you eventually gave in. One of his hands cupped your cheek while his lips were frantic on yours. He’s greedy for you, almost lapping up your tongue with his own before he pulls away. 
“Just let go, forget the camera is even there,” He mumbles in your neck when you gasp at the absence of his lips. 
He slips in another finger and thrusts faster, making you nod mindlessly as you surrender all control.You grip onto his bicep as he pumps in and out of you, begging him for more friction. You can hear how wet you were, and while you were embarrassed, Peter relished in it. 
“Can you take a third for me baby?” He asks in a low voice as he sits up on the bed in between your legs. You nod vigorously but he quickly removes both fingers.
You open your mouth to complain but instead yelp out when Peter pulls both your legs closer to his chest as he kneels on the mattress. He set aside the camera briefly. 
“Yeah?” He searches for an answer.
“Yes,” You grunt out, already desperate for much more than his fingers. 
He massages your heat with his fingers again before he inserts three fingers in, jolting your body to sit up. You let out an obscene moan and couldn’t help but to massage your clit while he fucks you with his fingers. 
One hand being in competition with Peter’s while the other massages your boobs, you’re almost too dazed to notice the shutter then went off while you were closer to an orgasm.
“Fucking incredible,” Peter breathes out before putting the camera with the new photo down, and leans down to kiss you. His pace never falters, making you whimper against his lips. 
“I’m about to cum,” You announce shakily. Peter swallows your pleas with a kiss and just curls his fingers against your g-spot faster. You feel that familiar build up in the pit of your stomach and the pace of your clenching pick up. 
“Cum all over my fingers baby,” He answers, and you immediately let go. You hold Peter closer as you cum, heaving underneath him like you’re in heat. Your body Peter continues to finger you but only because he loves the way you suction around him. 
He still lets you come down from your high, kissing you through it and massaging your breasts with his free hand during. When your breathing slows down, he sits back up and removes his fingers from you. 
“Need you inside of me,” You remind him as you reach over to palm his already hard cock against his stomach.
“Gonna let me cum inside of you?” He asks, holding his cock in his hand already glistening with your wetness. He readjusts to line himself up to your pussy awaiting your answer.
You cock your head with your arms supporting your body from the bed. “I’ll let you cum wherever you want,” You say. 
Peter grunts at your answer before inserting himself into your entrance, and immediately throws his head back at the feeling, your warmth and wetness engulfing him. 
“So fucking tight,” He comments, and you silently agree as you feel yourself stretching out on him. Your eyes fluttered shut as you clenched around him. 
“Fuck,” you moan out as he finds a comfortable pace for the both of you. 
Or that’s what you thought. 
You hear a shutter from your camera and realize he took a picture (or two) of you in this position beneath him, moaning out for him flat on the bed with his cock inside of you. 
You didn’t have time to care as when he got his shots he immediately started to rock into you, and you felt the strength of him against your thighs before he picked up the pace. 
You watch him thrust into you and slowly lose himself above you.
“I love the way you feel around me,” He pants out, closing in on your body with his forearms framing your face. You nod as the bed squeaks and your hands roam his body, stopping at his shoulders and the nape of his neck. 
Peter obliges to your physical demands and dips down to suck on your neck, causing you to whimper as your body continues to jolt from his thrusts. His soft brown hair tickles your skin as his teeth chew at the sensitive skin in your neck. You don’t know whether to giggle or moan, but you’re vocal regardless. 
“Go faster,” You whine, becoming impatient with him. 
“I’m not gonna last if I go faster,” He growls against your skin, sending vibrations down your spine. He thrusted slower, bringing his hand down to the back of your knee to bend it closer to your body. You felt him hitting your g-spot repeatedly that you knew you weren’t going to last any longer like that. 
“I don’t care,” You cry out. Peter scoffs in your neck as if to say a begrudging ‘Fine.’ and kisses you on the cheek before kneeling back up. He’s already twitching inside you before he begins thrusting again. You almost forget what you got yourself into until you feel his balls slap against your cunt repeatedly. 
A string of curses escape both your mouths, yours because he’s just so big and you can feel the tension build up in your stomach again. Peter’s cusses are because you just won’t stop clenching around him in response, he feels like he might burst the next time you tighten around him. 
“Fuck, fuck fuck,” He mutters before spilling into you. 
You go slack jawed at the feeling of him cumming inside of you. It feels hot between your thighs, in between the burning feeling of his hard thighs slapping against your softer ones, and feeling him twitch and coat your insides and the outside of your cunt with his load. 
You cry out as he almost slips out of you, but realize he’s gonna take another picture. You’re not sure what to do, or what exactly he’s capturing but you decide to listen to his earlier advice and let it happen. Peter places the camera on his eye while his cock almost goes soft half away inside of you, and you can feel him rubbing his cum around your thighs and up your hips. 
He mutters another curse, before snapping the picture. You close your eyes and your legs when you decide that that was the last photo and miss how Peter compiles all of them on your bedside table. 
Eventually, you look up and see him pulling back up his underwear and beckoning you to see the photos. When you get up and see 6 photos lined up from tonight. 
One of you on your knees, your breasts protruding and almost being the main focus of the photo if it wasn't for your face. You want to laugh at how excited your eyes looked but you know it was only because of who was behind the camera. 
Two more during and after the blowjob, one of you in the middle taking Peter in your mouth and giving the camera (but really, Peter) siren eyes. The other was you slightly disheveled, but Peter swore you were the prettiest girl in the world with drool around your mouth.
A third of you being fingered, your head is thrown back in unfiltered pleasure from his fingers, your breasts sitting high on your chest as you’re on your back and your nipples were glistening in the photo due to the suckling that happened off camera. While scanning this photo, you realize that being caught in the moment wasn’t such a bad thing and Peter is silently celebrating he caught your O face in action. 
The fourth was similar but you had more control over your pleasure as you’re on camera massaging your breasts and hand on your pussy. You feel like a vixen with the way you’re fondling yourself, Peter silently agrees as he knows you look like one. 
Fifth and sixth photo show the before and after of Peter fucking you senseless. Fifth with your body being still underneath his, and the photo displaying that exhilarating feeling you both get when your bodies meet in the first thrust. And the sixth photo when you’re both comfortable enough to come down from your high together. The sticky, white cum is slayed over your sopping, wet pussy and Peter’s fingers and cock in the frame to remind you who fucks you like this. 
“Do you like these? I can burn them away if you don’t,” Peter runs his hands through his hair nervously, not trying to make you uncomfortable if the bit had gone too far. 
You only shake your head with a laugh bubbling in your throat at his consideration and hug his much taller frame from behind. It felt good to rest your head on his back, while his arms engulf yours from the front. 
“I love them, I love you,” You speak low but loudly enough so he can hear, and feel, your words. 
“Which ones do you want to keep?” He asks. 
You know it’s out of courtesy, just one of those things you two got used to asking each other after taking pictures on this camera. You kept the silly anniversary photo while he kept the very nice one he took of you. 
“It’s all for you,” You answer. Peter sputters quickly, turning back around to see your face when you say it, you only nod in full seriousness. 
He leans down to kiss your cheek as a thank you and you only smile back. 
“I think you’d get more use out of it than me,” You add with a tinge of humor. Peter only plays it off with another suggestion while hugging you from the front. His arms wrap around your shoulders while you rest your head in the crook of his neck. 
“You know what though?” He asks, trailing his hands down to your naked hips, stopping to cup the round of your ass. 
“What?” You mutter in his hold, already feeling your body heat up at the thought of round 2. 
Peter smirks before snaking one of his hands to your pussy. Knowing that you’re about to start throbbing, at the thought of him. You gasp before he speaks and he chuckles while he proposes his new idea. 
“I think it’s only fair if we make a movie now.”
5K notes · View notes
readerthatreadsss · 1 year
Note
Requesting more dom!peter 😮‍💨🥵
𝗔/N: Your request is my command! (especially since I've been searching for more dom!Peter fics myself and have been failing so I might as well do it my damn self!) Also, yeah, it's been a damn long time lmao. I planned to finish up and release this like 4 months ago. Then a whole bunch of bad shit happened and I kinda gave up on writing for a little bit (outside of school cause I need that damn Bachelor's degree) BUT I've slowly started reading again and that bled into me opening up my drafts and finding this and spending some time with it. If you couldn't tell I had a shit ton of fun with this one...so feel free to check my newly updated Masterlist and request guidelines and send me more requests! The more I get, the more I'm gonna force myself to actually write them. (If you already sent one just know I’m working on it I promise)
𝗔𝗹𝗹 𝗡𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗣𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 | 𝗧𝗮𝘀𝗺!𝗣𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗣𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿
(heavily inspired by the song with the same title by Adele.) It came up in my shuffle and when I started listening to the lyrics it was just too perfect.
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he's so fucking pretty aghhhh (gif not mine)
𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: Tasm!Peter Parker x Vigilante!Fem reader
𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗖𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 5.6k+ (This is my big comeback so I might as well feed yall)
𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: You and Peter have been broken up for about 3 years, but when an impromptu visit to your apartment takes a turn...that may no longer be the case...
𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 (𝟭𝟴+ 𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗠𝗶𝗻𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗗𝗡𝗜): SMUT!, lil bit of angst at the end (ex to lovers so ofc), minimal use of y/n, P*rn-with-plot, Reader and Peter are FERAL for each other because of their powers (enhanced senses and all that), p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap your willy before you fuck her silly), a lil possessive Peter, oral (r receiving), fingering, praise kink, Peter using his webs to restrain reader (pre-consented ofc), dom!Peter, sub!Reader (bratty at first tho), pet names (sweetheart, baby, pretty girl, angel), choking, rough sex, brief spanking, other positions, creampie, etc...
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The remaining sunlight of the evening bled through your wide studio apartment windows as you finished folding what was left of your newly washed laundry. The plan for the rest of the evening was simple;
Drink two bottles of wine (knowing that your enhanced metabolism would sober the effects), catch up on a few missing assignments to keep your NYU professors off your ass, then jump into your suit and go patrolling.
It was a familiar routine.
Or at least, it had been...since he left.
Your relationship with him ended during your first year of college. To say it hurt like hell would be an immense understatement.
What hurt the most was the fact that you both gave everything you had to make it work...but long distance can be a bitch.
On that warm Saturday night in May, your ex-boyfriend received a call informing him that he had been accepted into a very prestigious engineering program (with a full-ride scholarship attached) all the way in California.
You applied for the very same program, so you knew just how big of an opportunity it would be. And, in good faith, you pushed him to take the offer.
You both insisted, "we'll make it work," and "we'll video chat and text every day. It'll be fine!"
What a load of horseshit.
It took 6 months for you to both arrive at the conclusion that you couldn't juggle your individual academic loads, your nighttime hero personas, AND a long-distance relationship all at the same time. A three-hour time difference didn't help matters either.
It took a while, but you eventually moved on. You kept your grades up, went on a few dates here and there, and even managed to convince yourself that you were doing fine without him.
Until...
*knock knock knock*
Your head peeked out from the fridge to look where you heard the strong yet hesitant knocks on your front door.
Only a handful of people knew where you lived and you weren't expecting to see any of them today.
Assuming it would be a postal worker or someone along those lines, you swung open the door with a polite smile.
"Hi-"
You felt your voice die in your throat as you locked eyes with the deep brown ones you hadn't seen in three years.
"Peter," his name fell from your lips, barely audible.
"Hi, Y/N," he replied with that awkward grin you knew all too well.
His hair was shorter than the last time you saw him, but from the tight fit of his jacket, you could see that was about the only thing about him that shrunk.
You wanted to actually hit yourself in the head for actually imagining yourself doing many things to his large...meaty...biceps- NO, no, no, no get a grip! a voice of logic sounded in your mind.
You hadn't realized how long you stood there silently sizing him up until he spoke again. "Can I...uh...come in, maybe?"
"Umm...sure," you nervously answered, finally taking note of the small cardboard box he was holding.
As you stepped aside to allow him entrance into your apartment, his familiar scent invaded your sensitive senses.
"Oh God," you muttered under your breath, knowing that he heard you, yet unaware that your scent had basically the same effect on him as well.
"You alright?" he turned and asked you in concern trying to hide the tightening of his jeans with the box he brought.
You nodded way too fast, promptly putting some distance between yourself and him. He hadn't been there for longer than 5 seconds and he was already having an effect on you.
"How've you been?" he questioned you, scratching his neck and actively avoiding eye contact. Unbeknownst to you, he was currently repeating every physics law he could remember in his mind to try to quell his growing erection.
It wasn't working very well.
"I've been fine. You?" you quickly spoke, slightly out of breath.
"I-uh-I'm alright," he shook his head with a tight-lipped smile.
He soon found himself just looking at you. It wasn't a blank stare, no, it was the sort of intense look you unintentionally gave someone when trying to commit every single feature to memory as if you weren't certain when you'd get another chance to.
It was a habit of his you noticed a lot when you were dating. And just as it did back then, it sent chills running rampant down your spine. Not to mention your nipples growing obviously hard behind your large shirt with no bra to hide it.
Peter noticed it immediately and fought back a smile, which you glimpsed.
"Why are you here, Peter?" you decided to get down to business before your body betrays you any further.
The brunette let the question hang in the air for a few seconds before actually coming up with an answer. "I wanted to drop these off," he placed the small box on your kitchen counter.
Your eyes immediately narrowed. "You could have mailed it. Or you could've just dropped it at the door and then left. So why are you really here Peter?" you would have felt worse about your tone if you weren't so bothered.
Why the hell did he feel the need to suddenly show up and make you start feeling things you swore you wouldn't feel for him again?
Peter took a deep breath. "Aunt May called me last week. She's not doing too good. So, I came back to help take care of her."
You felt your stomach sink at his words. While you both dated, May grew to be like a second mother to you. You had no idea she was sick.
"Oh shit Peter-I'm so sorry," you crossed the room to engulf him in a hug, despite your initial reaction to his visit.
Peter immediately accepted your hug and found the anxiety in his body dissipating soon after. Your hugs tended to have that effect on him.
He couldn't stop himself from deeply inhaling and drawing in your hair's familiar scent when he wrapped his hands around your clothed waist.
A few seconds passed before you released each other, with you also savoring the feel of his body against you and the way how your skin lit up with goosebumps though there was a thin layer of clothing separating his hands from you.
"I was just cleaning up my old room at May's and I found some of your stuff so I figured I'd drop by and..."
You nodded in understanding and walked over to where he placed the box.
It was mostly filled with old t-shirts, tools, and gadgets from days when you would sleep over at Peter's or stop by to help each other with school projects.
"Thanks," you sent him a smile as you closed the box.
Your smile warmed Peter's heart. It was actually his second favorite thing about you, after your hugs of course. "Yeah, you're welcome," he smiled back, running his hand through his hair. It was a mess by now, but you still wanted to run your hands through it…or maybe even pull on it-
"Sorting through some of this stuff made me realize how much I...missed you," he said, his tone growing more assured.
Thankfully, you were still facing away from him, not giving him the chance to catch the pained expression that briefly crossed your face.
But you could feel him slowly approaching your frozen figure and found your body silently reacting in ways it shouldn't be, yet again. "Do you miss me?" he asked, his voice heavy.
You held back the urge to scream "Yes!" because admitting that out loud would be taking 3 steps backward.
Admitting that you missed him would be undoing all the work and tears you put into moving on from him and the hopes and dreams you had for a life with him.
Admitting that you missed him would mean giving in to the part of you that thought back to your most intimate moments with him when you touched yourself.
And admitting that you missed him would mean letting him back into the four-cornered box you had locked yourself in for the past 3 years.
But, with every step closer that he took, your resolve disappeared that much faster.
"You okay?" he called for your attention.
Your sharp intake of oxygen brought a tense silence over the room when you turned to face him and realized that he stood close enough for your lips to nearly brush his.
"Peter, I-" you tried to form words, but then you saw his lust-filled brown eyes lower to your lips.
And that was all it took for the last of your self-control to disappear.
"Damn it," you mumbled once you realized what was about to happen.
Before Peter could question your outburst, you found yourself latching onto his jacket lapels and pulling him down to meet your lips.
It took mere milliseconds for Peter to react. After all, he had been thinking about doing this since you swung open the door and looked up at him with those eyes of yours.
His large calloused hands took hold of the sides of your face as you clashed in a heap of teeth and tongue. It was desperate and feverish but it was perfect.
It was a language only you and Peter seemed to master, even now after three years apart.
Your lips moved swiftly against his, eager to taste more and more of him with each passing second. You felt him press his growing bulge flush against you, causing a pathetic whine to involuntarily tumble from your lips and a smirk to find its way onto his.
"I did miss you," you softly spoke, "but we can't do this Peter," the logical part of your brain made an appearance, though you kept peppering his lips with kisses.
As his lips moved to your neck, Peter's hands slid down to your ass where he effortlessly lifted your legs off the ground and up around his waist. The feeling of his hands against the bare skin of your thighs garnered yet another moan from you.
"You don't sound so sure angel," you felt him smirk against your heated skin.
You hadn’t heard that nickname in years yet it sent small chills down your spine for the second time that night.
A mumbled curse slipped your lips when he nipped a particular spot below your ear. That was definitely gonna leave a mark.
You soon gathered the strength to pull Peter's hungry lips away from your body, swinging your arms around his neck to hold yourself up.
"We can’t go back from this, you know that right?" you spoke, the both of you panting from the effects of the last minute.
"I don't wanna go back," Peter shook his head, "I wanna fuck you, right here, right now," his lips immediately found yours before his words could fully resonate.
This caught you by surprise which allowed Peter to slip his tongue between your lips.
As his taste continued to flood your senses, you felt yourself grow alarmingly wet.
Peter knew it too because he slowly pulled back and smirked down at you. "I could smell you from the moment I walked in here. Glad to see three years hasn't changed the way your body reacts to me, angel," he accompanied his words with a quick slap to your ass.
His slap and the familiar pet name left you a moaning mess. Just like he knew it would.
A lovely laugh left Peter's mouth before his lips met yours again.
He walked your entangled bodies over to the kitchen counter without breaking the sloppy kiss.
Peter used one hand to blindly clear the counter and place you on it, which sent your box of things flying toward the floor.
Not that either of you cared.
"Too much clothes," you were barely able to say in between kisses.
You followed up by shoving Peter's jacket off his shoulders which fell to your hardwood floors with a thud. He immediately got the message and got rid of his t-shirt as well.
A shameless whimper left your lips at the sight of his very toned muscles. You easily maneuvered Peter's body closer to you and began kissing and sucking his neck and every other available inch of skin just as you had pictured earlier, making sure to leave a few purple bruises in your wake.
“You’re killing me here baby,” Peter harshly swallowed, his eyes sliding closed as you continued to have your way with his chest.
"Wouldn't be a terrible way to die though, right?" you mumbled between lovebites and licks. You felt like an animal in heat but you just couldn't get enough of him, the occasional flex of his muscles with each slither of your tongue and his deep groans only egging you on more.
The taste of his skin alone could've made you cum easily.
But the same could be said for Peter as the feel of your tongue slithering all along his chest had him practically creaming his pants then and there.
Fucking enhanced senses, he cursed inwardly.
“Alright, ease up pretty girl,” he reluctantly grabbed your head, detaching your swollen lips from his body.
“Your turn,” he tugged at the hem of your top.
You quickly pulled off the oversized t-shirt you were wearing to reveal your bare top half to him.
He spared no time in cupping your breasts with his eager hands. "Fuck, I missed you so much," he mumbled.
"Me, or my boobs?" you jokingly raised a brow at him.
"Definitely both," he grinned, bringing his mouth down to your tits.
As his tongue made contact with the soft mounds, you loudly moaned and wrapped your fingers in his unruly tangle of hair.
He switched between nipping and sucking on your nipples, in the way he knew you liked, while his free hand pinched and squeezed the other.
"Just like that Peter fuck-" hearing his name fall from your lips drove Peter insane.
His tongue flicked your sensitive nipples harder, and his eager sucking pleased you to no end.
Peter eventually pried himself away from your supple breasts, remembering the other parts of you he wanted to worship, and brought his hands to rest on the sides of your head. Your lips connected once more in a delicate kiss.
Though you knew what lay ahead for the evening, you were both perfectly content with each other's lips at the moment, just enjoying the constant waves of pleasure from the intimate contact.
But it wasn't long before the kiss grew heated and you tried to take control. Peter, however, wasn't giving you a chance.
"I leave for three years and you think you're hot shit, huh," he smirked.
"Why don't you ask the guy I fucked on this counter last week," you retorted, knowingly riling him up.
"Don't say shit like that, it's not funny," he nearly growled as his grip on your ass grew more forceful.
You secured your grip on his hair before pressing a small kiss on the side of his lips. "Gimme a reason to shut up then," you challenged him.
“Trust me, I will,” Peter grabbed your hands from his hair and forced them to your sides. His movements were swift as he laid you flat on your counter and ripped your thong off your body.
There he is, you smiled to yourself. This is the Peter you wanted to fucking ruin you.
You felt his face ghost your drenched opening as he deeply inhaled your scent. "You smell fucking delicious baby," he praised you, his mouth actually watering at the thought of tasting you.
A genuine smile found its way onto your face but morphed into a gasp when Peter teasingly ran his tongue up your sensitive slit.
"You taste even better," he added, using his strong arms to bring your thighs closer to his head. He wanted to tease you but it was getting harder to resist the urge to dive right into your heat like a man starved.
"Holy shit," you all but screamed as he briefly nipped at your swollen clit before sucking on it to soothe the sting.
His grip on your thighs combined with the ministrations of his tongue was pure bliss.
You attempted to slip your hands in his hair once more, but found that they were suddenly held in place against your counter by two of his webs.
Your eyes briefly widened at the feel of the rough, sticky material against your wrists, not having felt it in a few years. Back then, you expressed to Peter your desire to engage in some bondage, but being the daughter of a super soldier, it was clear that no rope or wire would be able to hold you. Peter's webs became the next best choice.
"That's not fair," you pouted, though it melded into a moan as Peter continued to suck and lick between your glistening folds.
The sounds of Peter devouring you resounded through the small apartment.
"I'm close Pete," you whined, your chest heaving in arousal.
Peter decided to focus his tongue on your eager bundle of nerves while he slowly inserted two fingers into your pussy. He instantly curled the digits causing you to briefly squirm at the sudden pressure against your G-spot.
"More," you begged, and Peter delivered, adding another finger inside of you. He immediately sped up his motion inside of you, making sure his fingers gauged that spongy spot to drive you over the edge with each thrust inside of you.
“That feels so fucking good, Peter, oh my God," you loudly moaned at the feeling of his fingers inside of you, calling forth an orgasm with no warning.
You repeatedly bucked against Peter's face as you came, white-hot pleasure filling your veins. Peter locked onto your stare, still skillfully working his fingers in and out of you, loving the way you constantly clenched around his fingers.
"Jesus fucking Christ," your legs jerked when Peter dove in and drank every ounce of slick you had to give while still fucking you with his fingers.
With his face now damp of your juices, Peter looked up to meet your blissed-out eyes. "Gimme one more, angel," he placed a soft kiss on your thighs, "I know you can do it for me."
You would do anything to keep Peter's mouth between your legs.
So, you eagerly nodded in response before taking a deep breath in preparation for another onslaught.
You didn't have to wait long.
Peter’s tongue went to work on your glistening hole while his fingers fiddled with your overstimulated clit. And, within minutes, your thighs were trapping Peter's head as an even bigger orgasm rocked you again, the borderline pornographic sounds leaving your lips shooting straight to his hardened cock.
Peter seemed perfectly fine with staying between your legs all night, but you had other plans.
"Pete, I need you inside me," you begged, tears of pleasure leaking from your eyes.
He rose from beneath you and climbed up to free your hands from his webs. "I know, baby, I know," he softly replied, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips and using his hands to soothe your reddened wrists. Your own taste on his tongue flooded your senses which made you even more desperate.
Peter obliged, slipping out of his sweatpants and sliding his girth between your folds. He used one hand to hold himself up above you on the counter, and the other to slowly guide his dick into you.
You both shared a long moan as he buried himself to the hilt inside your pussy, your wetness making it way too easy.
He held still for a few seconds, waiting for you to adjust and give the all clear for him to move.
Eagerness guided your words. “Fuck me, please.”
Peter set a brutal pace, knowing you were more than capable of handling it. Satisfied cries left your chest as you dragged your nails along Peter’s back, hard enough to leave trails.
“You can take it, pretty girl, I know you can,” he groaned as he continued to pound into you, trying desperately not to blow his load with the way you were constantly clenching around him and marking his back.
You tried to reply, but all that you could form were sloppy moans and broken syllables.
“Oh look at you, drunk on my cock already?” he teased with a particularly hard slam that prodded your cervix, “I’m nowhere near done with you yet.”
Pleasure-filled cries mingled with words continued to fall from your lips as Peter gently moved a few fallen strands of hair behind your ear with a hand. "-feels so fucking perfect," you muttered, your lips curved into a drunken smile.
Peter reached down and pinched one of your nipples, gaining a loud whimper from you. “I love hearing you make those pretty sounds for me baby,” his strokes grew harder and deeper.
“All for you, Pete, all for you,” you panted as he fucked into you, the delicious smell and sound of sex lingering in the air.
Peter used a hand to wrap around your throat before using the other to reach down and fiddle with your aching clit.
The combination of Peter’s dick hitting that perfect spot, his fingers massaging your clit, and the lack of air from his hand around your neck was making you dizzy and overstimulated.
You fucking loved it.
“God, I missed you,” you spoke breathlessly.
He moved closer to kiss you briefly and tenderly. “I missed you too, baby.”
No amount of time could take away his knowledge on how to please you, how to get you like this with ease, not when you were all he thought about for years on end.
Peter pressed a quick kiss to your forehead then continued to fuck you on your kitchen counter.
"I'm gonna cum again baby, right fucking there," you moaned out.
Peter's grip on your neck grew tighter. "Not yet, don't you cum until I tell you to sweetheart," he commanded you, removing his fingers from your clit.
A frustrated groan rumbled in your chest as you forced yourself to sustain your orgasm.
"Don't pout," he smirked.
And before you could realize it, Peter had pulled out of you and effortlessly flipped you onto your stomach.
A hand soon gripped your hair, yanking you up against his chest and eliciting a pitiful whine from you.
"Tell me what you want,” Peter commanded, using his free hand to strike your ass. Hard.
You whimpered again at the sting of his slap. “I need you inside me. Please,” you pleaded.
He seized your hair harsher and leaned forward for his lips to graze against your ears. “Beg.”
A small whine left your lips at his words. You were so desperate you didn’t even care how embarrassing this would be in retrospect. “I need to cum, Peter. Please baby you're the only one who can make me cum.”
Peter pressed a kiss to your neck, nearly causing you to lose your footing. And he soon complied by ramming himself back into you.
“Oh my Fuck-“ you cried before biting your lip, suddenly aware that you had neighbors.
But Peter pulled his cock from your heat, with just the tip remaining, before roughly slamming into you, his hips slamming against your ass with the motion. “Come on, lemme hear you angel.”
He repeated the action, knocking the air out of your chest, “Peter!” your hands gripped the sides of your counter with such force you were sure you felt it crack under your grasp.
Peter caught wind of this and freed your hair before using his hands to pull your hands behind your back. "You're so perfect baby," he mumbled in your ear, continuing to brutally fuck you from behind, "So fucking beautiful with my cock inside you."
"I can't hold it anymore," you cried, "I need to cum, Peter, please."
With that whiny tone and those overstimulated tears to top it off, Peter couldn't deny you any longer. "Let it all out for me sweetheart. Cum for me," he littered your shoulders with kisses.
Your eyes slammed shut as your walls contracted around his cock, pleasure shooting through you and rocking you on a seemingly cellular level. Your mouth opened in a silent moan, unable to form a sound from the satisfied tremors attacking your nerves. The intensity of your finish is one only brought on when Peter fucked you and it was damn near cosmic.
"Shit," you groaned in relief, your long-awaited climax passing.
Peter slowed his movements inside of you and released your hands. "You did so good for me angel," he pushed your hair aside and kissed your neck, trying to stave off his own orgasm for a little while longer.
Aftershocks rocked your body while Peter continued sporadically moving inside of you, yet you couldn't get enough. Your body was more than ready to keep taking whatever he dished out.
Peter didn't need to read your mind to see that, but he needed to make sure. His lips kept up their onslaught on your neck as he softly spoke, "You wanna keep going?"
"Hell yes," you panted with a grin that he couldn't fully see, "You still haven't cum yet, and my bed is still fully made."
Happy with your response, Peter gave your ass a sharp smack. "That's my girl."
He pulled out of you and turned your body to face him, smiling at the sight of your fucked out face. "Three orgasms and a handful of tears later and you're still the most beautiful girl in the world," he held you by the sides of your face.
His words left you reeling, causing a slight blush to dust your cheeks and butterflies to swirl within your stomach.
Before you could form a response, Peter leaned down to kiss you. He soon hoisted up your legs around his waist, preparing to escort you to your bed as per your own demands.
As he looked around for the bed's location, you took advantage of his momentary distraction and latched your lips onto his neck, reapplying the bruises you left there that were slowly fading already.
Peter was the happiest man on earth as he walked over to your bed, his cock prodding your soaked entrance, and your lips ravaging his neck.
He carefully sat on the edge of your bed, with you now on his lap and your legs still around him. You expected him to ease his length back into you but he slowly brought your head down to meet his intense stare.
You carefully wrapped your hands around his shoulders to keep yourself up, the silence in the room growing deafening.
You could tell from his eyes that he desperately wanted to say something, and you wondered if it was the same thing you had been considering as well.
But you were both aware of what saying those words would mean for your broken relationship and simply settled for smiles instead.
Peter brought a hand up to lay your forehead against his, allowing your breathing to momentarily sync.
"You ready for me?" he questioned you with a hand at the nape of your neck to hold your head against his.
You immediately nodded in response causing his own head to shake in time with yours. A small laugh was shared between you both as your nose continued to brush his own.
"You're adorable," you said before you could stop yourself.
That stupid full-toothed grin that you hadn't seen in a while soon spread across his beautiful face at your words, gaining another laugh from you.
"Last round?” you eventually pleaded with a smile.
"Anything for you," Peter replied, meaning it in every way. Adoration littered his stare as he slowly lowered you onto his length.
A satisfied mewl slipped your lips at the familiar feel of him.
The slow drag of his cock in and out of you, while he rocked your hips back and forth to grind on him, had your bottom lip sucked between your teeth with eyes closed and head thrown back in pleasure.
But Peter wanted to see it all. He wrapped a hand around your neck and forced you to meet his dilated eyes. “Keep your eyes on me, baby.”
His soft yet stern tone caused you to swallow back a moan as you continued to move on his girth.
He then slapped your ass with his free hand, silently urging you to move faster.
You leaned down and quickly kissed his lips before happily obliging, now beginning to bounce in his lap, chasing your next climax.
“There you go angel, just like that,” Peter’s stare never wavered.
Peter furiously fucked up into you, your moans and the constant smack of skin on skin filling the apartment.
His other hand which never left your throat now squeezed it harder. “Fuck!” You were barely able to moan out as your breasts bounced with your every move.
“Shit, you’re gripping me like a vice,” Peter groaned, his crude pace never faltering though his orgasm was closer than ever.
Your bed creaked under the onslaught of your bodies, but neither of you payed it any attention only having one goal in mind.
“One more time,” Peter planted his feet on the ground to get a better angle, "Need you to cum on my cock one more time."
But from the broken pacing of his hips to the strong furrow of his brow, you could tell he was close too. “Together?” You breathlessly suggested, grasping the nape of his neck with your hands.
Peter nodded in agreement before engulfing your chest and back with his arms, pulling you closer to his body.
Your breaths mingled, eyes focused on nothing except each other as his grip on your upper body allowed him to help you ride him even faster.
"Yes, Pete, oh my God-" pleas, curses, and moans tumbled from your lips as your skin buzzed at your incoming release.
"There you go, cum for me," Peter's voice grew strangled as his hips stuttered below you.
"Fuck," you wailed, your finish hitting you like a freight train and your pussy leaking into Peter's length.
The intense clench of your walls around him was all it took for Peter to explode with a groan, his pace faltering with that final pump.
"Holy shit baby," he panted, his cum painting your walls in spurts.
His firm hold on your body brought you collapsing on your bed together, satisfied and smiling.
And, for what felt like hours, you lay there in his arms. But of course, your thoughts began to run rampant.
Peter could damn near hear your thoughts spiraling.
"I don't regret this," he suddenly broke the silence you had elapsed into, "Do you?"
"Peter I-...I don't know," you freed yourself from his hold and sat up to look at him.
His brows furrowed at your response, hurt briefly flashing across his features.
"I loved you," you spoke, "I loved you more than anything."
"I know. I loved you too," Peter nodded with a small smile.
"And I will never blame you for leaving. Ever," you slipped a hand in his own and squeezed briefly.
"But?"
Your eyes stung with tears threatening to fall. "What happened to us, it damn near destroyed me, Peter. And it took so so long to put myself back together."
Peter swallowed harshly at your words.
"And then here you come, waltzing in here, fucking my brains out and making me feel things," you lowered your head, looking away from him.
You heard Peter move closer to you before feeling him lift your chin to face him again. His expression wasn't as disappointed as you'd expected, just confused. "Spit it out. I know you're holding something back."
"Why'd you come back here and-and do all this? Reminding me of what we had when you know you're gonna be gone again in the next few weeks?" you felt your voice shrink to a broken whisper.
Peter used his thumb to wipe away a lone tear that fell from your eye, his previously puzzled look now morphing into a smirk. There was obviously something he wasn't telling you.
You sniffled and lightly hit Peter's shoulder. "Well, now it's your turn bug face, spit out whatever you're hiding!"
You received no answer other than Peter leaning forward and pressing a deep kiss against your lips. You eagerly accepted and returned the spontaneous action but were left even more confused when he pulled away.
"That wasn't an answer," you arched a brow at Peter.
"I'm not going anywhere," he smiled.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that I'm moving back to New York, or already moved, technically," he began to explain.
Your mouth opened and closed in shock as your brain fumbled for a response and came up inconclusive.
"I'm gonna finish out the school year online and stay here to take care of Aunt May. I mean it, baby, I'm not going anywhere," he grinned, watching tears of joy fall from your eyes.
"This better not be some sick fucking joke Peter, I swear to God," you pointed a finger at him accusingly.
"Can you shut up and just come here?"
You couldn't help but laugh as you obliged and grabbed Peter's neck before pulling him in for another kiss, your face still wet from tears and a smile almost permanently etched onto your face.
You pulled away but sank into his open arms. You relished how securely he held you. "I'm so happy," you said aloud, truly meaning it for the first time in a long time, though it was only meant to be an inner thought.
Peter kissed your forehead and looked down to meet your eyes, "I'll never stop making you happy, Y/N."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
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moonstruckme · 2 months
Note
hi!
can i request tasm!peter meeting reader after having to do long distance?
if not thats okay! love your writing:)
have a great day<3
Thanks lovely, hope you have a great day as well!
Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 683 words
You don’t just give out copies of the key to your apartment, so when the front door opens you think you’re about to be shot. 
Breath caught in your throat, you freeze in the hallway and say the first deterrent that comes to mind. “I’ve got a gun!” 
The laughter that responds is as familiar as it is cheeky. “No, you don’t,” Peter says. 
“Jesus.” Your heart starts again, and in that split second your feet are already moving. 
Peter opens his arms as you throw yourself at him, taking your weight happily. “Nope, just me,” he quips, his harsh grip at odds with the levity of his voice. 
“Still a bad joke.” Your own voice is thick with fondness. You press your face into his neck, getting your boyfriend as close as you can. “What are you doing here?” 
“I live here.” He gives your upper back an excited squeeze. “You miss me?” 
“Not even,” you mumble into his shoulder. You go ahead and wrap your legs around his waist, and Peter chuckles, starting to walk the both of you towards your couch. “You scared the shit out of me, you know.”
“Yeah, maybe not my best plan.” He collapses downward, and you fold yourself around him more completely, getting comfortable in his lap. You think you’ll just never leave, honestly. “I thought the surprise would be more fun than scary.” 
“I could’ve met you at the airport.” 
“May would’ve killed me.” He palms the back of your neck, lips finding your hairline. “She wanted to pick me up herself, but she’s letting you have me for dinner. I have to be back by ten.” 
You let out a petulant whine. “Why does she get to decide?” 
You adore Peter’s aunt and he knows it, but when you’re having to battle her for custody of your boyfriend all that love goes right out the window. 
“I know,” Peter commiserates. “You’d think after a semester of taking care of myself in another country, I’d be allowed to stay out until at least eleven.” 
You hum, vacating your spot in the juncture of his neck in favor of seeing his face. You pet down the cowlick at the crown of his head, and Peter catches your hand, kissing your palm. A warm thrumming starts up in your chest. It’s similar to the sensation you’d gotten during your evening calls while Peter was abroad (well, your evening, his late night), but more. Better. You’ve missed feeling it like this. 
“How was Hertfordshire?” you ask. 
Peter gives you a look like you’re being silly. “I told you already.” 
“It’s different in person.” 
He smiles, thinking. “Small. Grassy. Cute, but not much to swing off of.” There’d been no vigilante work while Peter did his research abroad. He talked like it was a welcome break, but you could tell he missed it. Something changes in his look, eyes going soft and flirty. “No pretty girls.” 
You bite back a smile. “Let’s not do the women of Hertfordshire a disservice,” you chide.
“Fine.” Peter rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “None of my pretty girl.” 
He lifts his chin and you oblige him, touching your lips to his. It’s a kiss months in the making, and it heats quicker than either of you are expecting. Your heart thunders and throbs to the point of aching. You shuffle closer in Peter’s lap and his hand presses into the small of your back, both of your breathing turning harsh and desperate. 
“Missed you,” he says into your mouth. 
“I missed you more.” 
“Wanna bet?” Peter lifts you off the couch, and his casual strength shouldn’t surprise you anymore but it does. You laugh, again wrapping your legs around his waist. 
“Shouldn’t we start to think about dinner?” you ask as he carries you towards your bedroom. 
He hums, reluctant. “What time is it?” 
You look to the side to check the clock on your microwave, and he kisses your cheekbone while you do. “Almost seven.” 
Peter hums against your skin, pressing another kiss to the side of your nose. “We’ve got time.”
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spiderfunkz · 10 days
Note
hi! i’d love to know abt your fav headcanon(s) for tasm!peter and maybe a little oneshot of said headcanon(s)?
peter parker falls in love HARDDDDD!! i love him and his nerdy ass like aaaaghhhhhh. he's so cutesy and skrunkly i just wanna throw a rock at him 💕
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peter parker is the type of person to go head over heels when he likes someone!! the type of person to steal a glance every time you're not looking. the type of person to secretly hope he'd get partnered up with you during class. the type of person to practice in front of the mirror before finally talking to you.
he's the type of person to notice every little thing about you. the pins on your bag of your favorite artists? he can name five songs. your favorite flowers? he walks past the flower shop every morning, hoping to buy you some one day. the way you always have that one mood ring on your finger, he finds it adorable.
he goes so flustered whenever you catch him glancing at you. his face turns all red and he starts giggling actually, your probably the reason he skips to school everyday, hands in pockets, twirling around in pure joy and excitement.
he'll brag to his friends on how he talked to you when in reality it was him saying happy birthday and you replying with a thank you along with a smile that surely gave him a cavity.
to summarize it up. peter parker doesn't just like someone. he loves them. pure admiration, adoration, infatuation, smitten. you're the light in his heart, the butterfly in a field of wildflowers, the red tulip in a field of white tulips.
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peter has liked you for a while now.
it was a long day of classes, he could've just skipped but aunt may found out he was doing that too much and got pretty mad. besides, it's just one more class. a class he never really had to try in. should be easy right?
yes, but no.
you just switched classes to biology. sitting in the only empty chair, just two chairs away from peter. he saw you, and that's when he knew.
you were never late, unlike peter. every time he comes in you're already there, smiling awkwardly at the situation as mrs. moore lectured him. but what's the point? peter wasn't listening, he was too busy figuring out what emotion was on your mood ring, and spoiler alert! it was love.
it took him a lot of convincing and reassurance from gwen, but he finally got the courage to talk to you. not about how the weather is, or the same old "did you do the _ assignment yet?". he was going to ask you out on a totally friends-only, platonic date ( that goes so well it will end up with you and him holding hands! ).
"hi!" peter smiled, his hand playing with his hair. "hey, peter." he seemed nervous, you were too.
"um, so, i was wondering if you.. would.." he looked everywhere but your eyes, "..that if we could, maybe, um.. hangout? together? if you want to. obviously, you don't have to but um-"
"no yeah, i would love to peter!" you smiled. was it hot? it felt hot, your face felt hot, does peter notice? he probably does.
peter's heart was racing through a field, it was winning first place. "okay, good- great! i could um. pick you up? i'll text you. you have my number right? i could just um- you know..." he played with the hem of his jacket.
you nodded, "yeah i do." — "okay, we could meetup somewhere.. maybe the park? is that boring? the cinema? anything you'd like, i'm fine with anything you know. or we could just.. hang.."
you smile, "sure."
"really?"
"yeah definitely, either one. or we could do all of them, i've got nothing to do." — "okay, that's super! super- cool.. super cool. i'll text you, is that okay?"
you nodded, "of course."
"okay, i um- i'll go now. i should go now. i'll see you? later?" peter asks.
"yeah okay!" you wave happily as he walks backwards towards the exit, nearly bumping into 2, no, 3 now, students.
"text me!" you yell out.
peter nodded eagerly.
he walks out, knowing gwen is not gonna hear the end of this.
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bxcketbarnes · 2 years
Note
Congrats on the milestone! For your celebration can I request a best friends to lovers with TASM!Peter?
Thanks so much for requesting! I hope you like it xox
First Vacation
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"I'm glad you agreed to come with me," you call out to Peter from the room you'll be staying in.
Your best friend leans against the doorframe and crosses his arms over his chest. "Well, you gave me the pout," he argues with a teasing grin. "I can't say no to the pout."
A giggle leaves your lips and you turn your head to look at him. You release a quick sigh and make your way towards the brunette. "I know you have these responsibilities and all, but I just thought you needed a small vacation," you confess to him while picking balls of fuzz off of his shirt.
"You know me so well," he laughs, moving some of your hair out of your face. "No, I agree with you. I do need a break. It's just… hard."
You pat his chest a couple of times before walking back towards your suitcase. "I think New York will survive for the five days that we're gone," you chuckle softly and continue putting your clothes into the dresser.
"I sure hope so," Peter mumbles and walks into the room. He sits down on the edge of the bed and watches you unpack. He furrows his brows at the sight of a bottle of saline spray. "What's this for?"
"What's what?" You ask, not glancing over your shoulder as you stuff a pair of jeans into the bottom drawer.
His honey-brown eyes read over the aerosol can before looking toward you. "It's a bottle of saline. It says the word piercing on it," he mutters in confusion. "Did you get a piercing and not tell me?"
Your eyes widen and you swiftly turn to face him. Your cheeks blush at his question and your fingers fumble with the hem of your shirt. Peter stands up from the edge of the bed and takes a step towards you.
"I-I was trying to figure out how to tell you," you stutter over your words and avoid his gaze.
Peter raises a brow and he shakes his head. "Tell me what?" He asks, genuinely confused.
The blush on your cheeks darkens and you tilt your head back, releasing a deep breath. "I got my nipples pierced," you whisper to him, feeling the embarrassment run up your spine.
His eyes widen when your voice reaches his ears. Peter's lips move like a fish out of water as his gaze drops down to your chest. "You- Wh-When?" He mutters while rubbing the back of his neck.
"A few weeks ago. My two girlfriends convinced me to do it," you laugh and walk back towards your suitcase.
That's…hot. Peter thinks to himself as his eyes continue to move from your face to your chest. "I- That's cool. I never would've thought you'd do that," he chuckles.
"What can I say," you shrug your shoulders and you give him a playful wink. "Now that's out in the open, would you want to take a walk on the beach with me later tonight?"
Peter smiles and he nods his head. "Yeah, of course. Why wouldn't I?" He asks with a chuckle.
"I didn't know if you wanted to do your own thing while we were here," you say to him, shrugging your shoulders again.
The smile falls from Peter's lips as you go back to unpacking your clothes. "I came here with you. Of course, I want to do things with you," he points out.
A scoff leaves your lips and your best friend gets confused at your mood change. "So, you weren't planning to tell me that you brought your suit?" You accuse him, your eyes shifting towards him.
"How did you-"
"I saw it when you opened your bag, Peter," you sigh while slapping your hands against your thighs. "I mean, shit! I wanted you to come with me so you can have a break. Not fight crime in a new place."
He watches you shake your head before zipping up your now empty suitcase. "Y/N, you don't real-"
"Don't tell me that I don't realize your responsibilities. I realize them, Peter," you cut him off again. "I just want you to give your body a break. I care about your well-being."
Peter reaches his hands out to you and gently grasps your arms. "I know you do, and I'm extremely grateful. You've patched me up more times than I can count," he almost whispers. "But, you don't realize that I keep going to keep you safe."
You let out a gasp and your eyes widen at his statement. Peter laces his fingers with yours and tugs you closer. "Me?" You ask him, your heart pounding in your chest.
"Yes, you. There's so much out there that can harm you and I don't want that happening, ever," he explains while squeezing your hands. "I don't want to lose you."
Tears begin to pool in your eyes and you suddenly glance down at your feet. "Pete," you whisper and shake your head.
Peter brings both of his hands to your face and lifts your head. He smiles at you while stroking your cheeks. Your hands find their way to his hips, clutching the shirt he's wearing.
"I love you," he mumbles softly before kissing your forehead.
Your eyes flutter shut and you release a deep breath. Your hands slide up his sides before you wrap your arms around his neck. "I love you too, Peter," you whisper into his ear as your fingers play with the ends of his hair.
His arms circle your waist and he hugs you tightly. One of his hands slides up your spine as his lips pepper kisses along your neck and shoulder.
-
Taglist: @reidslovely @jeanettexkillian @undf-stuff @softyutae @theonlymaddie @queenofshinigamis @stewielover95 @foreverrogers @writing-for-marvel @softtdaisy @xoxoloverb @onlyfreds @corneliastreetinstyle @avenjames-anderson @marvelouswinchester @0-0-sunflower-0-0 @sincericida @leleea @jessalyn-jpeg @paw-sneeze @apeainapot @reddesert-healourblues @thewxntersoldier
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bitchyycapricorn · 1 year
Text
Brooklyn Bridge
Peter Parker x Reader
Masterlist Word Count: 1.3k Synopsis: Peter faces one problem constantly: Aunt May knocking on the door at the absolute worst times. Fed up, Peter decides to simply show you off to the public.
Quote: “Good God, look at you you’re doing such a good job.” Warnings: Smut, public sex, praise kink, usage of slut, language, P in V AN: Obviously with my highlighted quote TikTok has reminded me how much of a praise kink I have. Not edited.
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“Oh fuck babe, I’ve missed you so much,” You groan as Peter thrusts into you. Your whole body is on fire at the feeling of Peters lips leaving small kisses on the side of your neck as he pounds into you mercilessly.
“God, “Y/N, you feel so fucking good.” Peter groans as his hand wanders up and down your side, taking in every inch of your body. Peter continues to plant small kiss along your jawline before stopping abruptly at the sound of a knock on his door.
“Peter?” May calls from the other side of the door. “Peter open the door!” Peter groans as he pulls out of you, leaving your body aching for his touch.
“You have to get in the closet,” Peter whispers harshly under his breath, “quick grab your cloths.” You find yourself stumbling out of his bed, scrambling while you pick your discarded cloths up from the ground before making a beeline to Peter’s closet. Even though you now couldn’t see Peter, you could hear him fumbling around while trying to get his cloths on before unlocking the door for May.
“Why do you always keep that door locked Peter?” May stammers as Peter shifts uncomfortably.
“I was trying to get to bed.” He replies slowly, “also I like the privacy.” He admits sheepishly.
May stares up at him for a moment before letting out a sigh. “Yes, alright, well I’m going to bed. I came to tell you goodnight and if you need me make sure it’s an emergency.” Peter nods before giving May a hug and sending her on her way, making sure to tell her goodnight as well.
Peter shut the door, letting out a small groan before or opening up the closet to reveal a disheveled Y/N. You let a smile spread across your lips as you stumble out of Peter’s messy closet. “Well then,” you hum, “Is the mood ruined or…”
“Ruined? What do you think?” Peter mumbles. “Everyone in the world wants to watch us have sex I swear. Constantly needing us, constantly knocking on the door. Might as well just have public sex at this point so people can ask questions without any barriers.”
You let out a small laugh, running your fingers up Peter’s arm. “Public sex huh? Well, maybe let’s keep it tame and go ahead and finish in your bed since May is now asleep.” You suggest, trying to pull Peter with you.
“No.” Peter replies, a smirk forming on his previously solemn face. “Get dressed, we’re going out.”
“Going out? It’s almost 11 at night…” You hesitate as you slip on your pajama shorts and tank top, followed by your jacket.
“Don’t you trust me love?” Peter asks sweetly causing your stomach to erupt with butterflies.
“Of course I trust you,”
+++
“I do NOT trust you!” You shriek as Peter lands on top of the main upper platform on the Brooklyn Bridge. You look down at the cars zooming by below you, feeling your heart drop. “Why the hell are we on the Brooklyn bridge?” You cry, clinging onto Peters warm body.
“Since everyone wants to watch us have sex so bad, thought I’d give them a show.” Peter declares.
“You-You what?” You stammer feeling your cheeks heat up as you stare into your boyfriends masked eyes.
“Hold on to the rail baby,” Peter encourages as he flips you around so your frontside is pressed against the metal railing and you’re staring down at the cars and water below.
“P-peter,” You stutter feeling his cold hand slowly snaking between your spread thighs in order to push your shorts and underwear to the side. His fingers dance across your bare cunt, spreading your wetness in the process.
“Look at my pretty girl, all bent over for me like a little slut.” Peter purrs “Such a good girl aren’t you.” You could now feel his finger slowly entering you, dipping deep into your soaking core.
“Fu-fuck Peter, what if someone sees?” You sputter as your walls close around his slender finger.
His mask brushes against your ear as he whispers “That’s why we’re up her baby, so everyone can watch me fuck you like a slut.” You let out a gasp as his digits thrust in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace. “Mmm you like that don’t you?”
You let out a small moan in response, squeezing the railing as his fingers speed up. “Oh god Peter I’m close,” you cry at the feeling of his thumb now toying with your clit.
“Are you now?” Peter hums, smacking your ass as his fingers continue to violently thrust in and out of your heat. “Well then, if you’re so close, cum for me baby. Cum all over my fingers like a good girl.” He praises.
Throwing your head back onto his shoulder you allow your body to let go, convulsing as your orgasm washes over your whole body.
“Good girl,” Peter groans, slowly pulling his soaking fingers out of you. Your hands continue to squeeze the railing while you desperately try and catch your breath. Behind you you could hear Peter unzipping his jeans, shuffling as he removes his hard dick from its restraints. “Ready pretty girl?” Peter grunts as he lines himself up behind you. You nod, forgetting about the cars below you entirely.
Peter helps to bend you over slightly more, before grabbing yours hips and sliding into you with ease. “Oh fuck,” Peter moans as he bottoms out. “You feel so fucking good baby.” Peter slowly pulls out of you before pushing back in repeatedly. Your legs began to shake as Peter speeds up his movement, pushing deeper into you each time.
Small moans and cries escape your lips as you’re thrusted against the metal railing repeatedly. “Peter fuck” you cry. “God, oh, Peter.” Your whimpers fill the air as Peter drills into you without mercy, enjoying the feeling of your clenched cunt squeezing his throbbing cock.
“Good god, look at you you’re doing such a good job.” Peter praises, hands gripping your ass roughly. Your legs were shaking as Peter hammers into you from behind. Each thrust feeling deeper than the last, pushing you closer to your second orgasm. “Such a pretty little slut. Taking my cock so good in front of everyone.” Peters voice and hands felt hypnotic. The way he’s roughly grabbing your hips as he guides your body up and down his thick cock with every thrust.
“Peter-“ you moan, never wanting Peter to stop. “K-keep going please,” you whine.
Peter lets out a grunt, feeling himself getting closer to the edge. Your body capturing his attention as it knocks against the railing the deeper he pushes into you. “Shit-“ Peter mutters as his orgasm begins to creep up even more. “I’m close.”
You let out another string of moans knowing you’re close as well. You feel as one of Peters hands snakes around your front side, slowly rubbing your clit and adding to the pleasure. Throwing your head back you can feel your muscles begging to contract as a wave of adrenaline and pleasure washes over you. “Fuck Peter,” you groan as you finish around his cock.
Letting out a loud moan Peter releases inside of you, overwhelmed by the feeling of you squeezing around him as you ride out the last of your own orgasm.
Peter slowly pulls out and you can feel the hot cum slowly running down your bare thighs. Your body still shaking from the events just moments ago.
“You alright baby?” Peter whispers as his arms wrap around your disheveled figure. Planting soft kisses to your shoulder as he rubs your upper arms.
“I’m good, that was, that was amazing,” you reply, leaning back into his warm body.
“Good, I’m glad you enjoyed it as much as I did. Now let’s get you home and cleaned up hm?” He hums, turning you around so you’re facing him. You nod, allowing Peter to embrace you once more.
You look around at your surroundings for a moment, admiring the beauty of the city from so high up. “Hey Peter,” you whisper, “how many people do you think recorded us?”
Peter let out a small laugh before realizing you were right. “Oh fu-“
+++
TAGLIST @noakrootje
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headkiss · 4 months
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omg for a little christmas request!! how about pete buying reader a cute christmas plushie cos he knows you love them 😭 this is definitely not because I saw this ADORABLE reindeer plushie recently and I wanted it so bad but didn’t get it </3
mal my love!!! tysm for this request i hope u like it <333 | 0.8k words of christmas fluff with our boyfriend peter!!!!
Peter thinks of you often.
He has ever since he’d met you. And now that he can call you his and have it be true, he only thinks of you more. When he sees your favorite restaurant, when he thinks of a joke you’d find funny, all the time.
Not that he’d ever complain. There are far worse things to think about than the person he loves.
Peter stops in the shop by your apartment building on his way home, which he does often. Only now, it’s filled with holiday items, decorated with a wreath on the door. The bell chimes when he walks in, where he’s met with ‘Last Christmas’ by Wham! playing through the speakers.
He walks between the aisles, waving at the cashier when he says hello. Grabbing some snacks, Peter’s about to head up to the counter until he sees a small reindeer plushie sitting on the shelf. And he thinks of you again.
You’ve got a small collection of plushies at home, a little floating shelf dedicated to them in your bedroom. Sure, you already have some, but Peter picks it up anyways ‘cause he knows you’ll like it.
He leaves with a bit more of a pep in his step, excited to surprise you when he gets home.
The walk to the building is quick, though he’d debated swinging just to get there even quicker. In the end, walking is good enough, and he’s tugging his keys from his pocket as he walks up to the door.
Opening it, Peter instantly feels calmer. He always seems to be on edge, his senses waiting for something to tip them off. But when he walks into your apartment, everything goes a little quieter.
He’s never felt so at home as he does with you, in your shared apartment. Coming home to your shoes by the door, the smell of your favorite scented candle, and most importantly, you.
Sometimes cooking, his socks bunched around your ankles. Sometimes on the couch, accidentally asleep with the TV on. But no matter where he finds you, you’re there, and that’s all he could ever ask for.
Today, he finds you reading on the couch, your legs tucked beneath you. He sets his bag down on the kitchen counter, keeping the plushie behind his back, before walking over.
“Hey, honey,” he says, soft and sweet.
You’d been too deep into your reading to notice him getting home, but you peek up when you hear his voice. “Hi, Peter.”
The smile sneaks onto your face as you say it, his presence enough to make you happier. He’s the best boyfriend you could ever have. Gentle and caring, far too kind, and completely yours.
A matching smile is on his face, too.
Peter reaches out one hand, the other still behind his back, and tugs your book from your grasp, making sure to mark the page before setting it down.
“Close your eyes,” he tells you.
And, because he’s Peter, and because you trust him, you do.
“What are you up to?”
“Shhh. I’m giving you a present.”
“It’s not Christmas yet.”
“Doesn’t have to be Christmas for me to want to give you a gift, honey.” He sits down next to you, his free hand placed warmly on your leg. “Okay, now hold your hands out.”
Obeying, you place your hands, palm up, in front of you. Your eyes are squinted shut, resisting the urge to sneak a look, but you know he’d catch you if you did.
“If this is a bug or something, Peter, I swear-”
“You think I would give you a bug? With the way you’re scared of those things?” He squeezes your leg. “Come on, honey. I wouldn’t.”
Peter places the plushie in your hands, waiting a second before telling you to open your eyes. He’s grinning at your reaction when you do.
Looking at what you’re holding, you see a cute reindeer plushie, its eyes sparkly, the fur soft. Your heart swells a little at the thought of Peter seeing it and thinking of you.
You gasp, looking over at Peter, who’s got a shy smile on his face, his cheeks a little pink. “Peter! It’s so cute. Thank you.”
“Thought you could add something festive to your collection.”
You set the reindeer aside, opting to cup his jaw and kiss him quick instead. When you pull back, the pink of his cheeks is a little darker.
“You’re so sweet,” you tell him. “I got lucky.”
And you did. You feel that way with every single day you get to have with him, every morning you wake up next to him. It feels like Christmas all of the time, living with Peter Parker.
“A deer for my dear,” he says.
You push his shoulder, “ew, Peter. That was bad.”
You’re still smiling, though.
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