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#tasm peter parker x fem!reader
luveline · 1 year
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shy!reader patching up tasm!peter’s wounds and getting all flustered bc his flirting is both incessant and incredibly effective (a friends-to-lovers snapshot, if you will)
idk if this is what u meant im sry lol ♥︎ fem!reader tw stitches
"Pete," you chide, barely above a whisper. 
"What?" 
"Hands to yourself." 
"Isn't that hypocritical?" 
You stop yourself from laughing because you need very steady hands. "How can you…" You drift off as you push the needle back into his skin, pull the string taut, and start again. "How can you make jokes right now? Aren't you hurting?" 
His hand pauses where it had been tracing the hem of your shirt, fingertip stuttering over the slightest slip of your bare skin. "Bub, you know it doesn't bother me." 
"It bothers me," you say. Normal best friends go to the movies, the library, and spend altogether too much money on takeout. They don't stitch each other up in the middle of the night. 
"I'm sorry! I swear, I was so fast. He was- Faster." He does his awful forgive me smile that makes your stomach flip. "Besides, I like this part." 
"What?" 
"Your," — he shivers as you pull another stitch closed — "hands. You have super soft hands. Like silk." 
"Spare me," you say under your breath. 
"What was that?" 
You shake your head. "Last one," you say gently. 
Peter doesn't speak again until his stitches are done, disinfected and covered. "Hey," he says, hand covering your upper arm, squeezing lightly, "Thank you, sweetheart. Seriously. Your stitches are better than mine, you're as good as an actual nurse." 
"I have to be good at them 'cause you get hurt so much," you say, shrugging off his second compliment. 
He rubs your arm. "You encourage me." 
"I don't." 
"S'like asking a mouse to stop trying for the cheese in a mouse trap." 
"... I'm the trap?" 
"The cheese, actually." 
Your face is on fire. "Peter." 
"You're embarrassed? That's hardly my smoothest line. I got a new one, by the way. Has anyone ever told you-" 
"No," you say quickly, getting off of his bed in a hurry and almost tripling over a rogue hoodie. "I need to wash my hands." 
His pleased laughter follows you all the way to the bathroom. 
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cosmal · 1 year
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✪ — oh em gee what about ❛ this is a good look for you. ❜ with peter parker
stained
summary — peter spills a drink on your top at a party.
content — tasm!peterparker x fem!afab!reader, mentions of nudity
note — sorry this is super short! more of a baby blurb!
You sit on the edge of the toilet, naked from the waist up, while Peter is hunched over the bathroom sink, scrubbing at your shirt.
"Peter, just leave it, I'll wash it at home," you say softly. He looks really determined.
He'd spilt his drink all over your top downstairs at the party you're at. He'd felt horrible and insisted that he could get the stain out in the sink. The green stain out of your white top.
Turns out dawn soap and lukewarm water don't do the job. "I'm sorry, baby, really," he frets, holding the top up where it drips into the sink. You're not sure if he's made it better or worse. You appreciate him nonetheless.
"Pete, thank you, really," you start, shifting uncomfortably over the plastic lid. You cross your arms over your chest, where your bra digs into your skin, and look at the wet mess Peter holds in his hands. "It's okay. But now I have no top."
Peter drops the shirt looking really guilty. He feels horrible because he's ruined one of your favourite tops and he's also the reason you're half-naked in some random condo.
"Shit," he curses to himself.
He doesn't think twice. Peeling his jacket off, he stands at your knees and holds it out. "Here," he says bashfully. It's a thin jacket, made of nothing really. It's all you've got and you're not about to start complaining.
You stand to slip it on and hate it when you realise it has no zipper. Or any buttons. You pull it taut over your front and start to feel anxious. "Can you see anything?"
He pulls the collar forwards over your collarbones and smooths it out over your shoulders. "You're safe," he smiles. You watch his throat bob under the skin of his lightly stubbled neck. "It, uh, it looks really good."
"Pete," you groan while tipping your head back. "I'm naked, in the middle of the city, wearing my clumsy boyfriend's jacket, and you're getting turned on?"
"What?" he gawps, clearing his throat, "I am not! You just suit it, that's all."
You pull it tight around your middle and roll your eyes. "You're unbelievable."
He plays with the hem between his fingers, keeping his eyes planted to the floor momentarily. "It's a good look on you."
You straighten your back and ignore the way he's making you feel. Time and place you remember. "Right, we're going outside unnoticed and you're gonna hail a cab with those long arms of yours."
"You don't wanna swing home?" he asks.
"You don't have your shit," you grumble. It'd be convenient, but also reckless.
"My shit? You mean my suit?" he laughs, wrapping a hand around the hinge of your elbow. "I'm gonna pretend you didn't say that because I deserve it."
Peter makes sure you're decent before he opens the door to the bathroom. You stand behind him, hanging off his arm, hoping his broad shoulders will do you a favour and hide you well.
There's a drunk guy on the other side for the toilet presumably. Peter moves to the side to shield you on instinct when you squeak out a surprised noise. You push your chest against him to cover the slip of skin that struggles to be covered by the jacket, and let Peter guide you down the hall.
You lean in to whisper in his ear, "You owe me, Parker."
You get out onto the street when he says, "I'll show you how sorry I am when we get home."
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bruisedboys · 1 year
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also also!!!!!! peter x clumsy!reader might be the best pairing. because his spidey senses ugh he’s always catching you before you trip. like an arm around your back and then he dips you down to be dramatic and you get all flustered. and!!! if you’re not in arms reach he definitely shoots a web at you to pull you into his chest before you can do any damage. you both have several heart attacks a day because you’re such a klutz.
I am always on the peter x clumsy reader agenda!! they are so special to me!!! also the thing you said about him catching you and dipping you down omg I could die.
fem!reader 0.7k words
You’re still in the process of patching yourself up when Peter gets home, your knees scraped and a box of big Band-Aids waiting for you on the coffee table. You were hoping to be done by the time he got home, to save him the worry. No such luck. You hear the front door open and you don’t have time to hide your fresh wounds, your evidence of yet another accident.
You’re sure you look quite pathetic when Peter emerges in the doorway.
“Hi, dove! I missed— are you bleeding?” His smile drops and so does his bag. He doesn’t bother taking his jacket off. He strides across the room and gets to his knees in front of you. His hands find your thighs, thumbs just shy of your fresh scrapes.
“Oh, honey,” he coos. He’s not shocked, at least. You think maybe it’s happened so many times it doesn’t phase him anyway more.
His eyebrows pinch together as he scowls at your poor knees, his hands squeezing your thighs. He gives your injuries a once over before lifting his head to look at you sadly. “What happened?”
You frown. “Tripped in the driveway,” you admit moodily. “I’m fine, really. Looks worse than it feels.”
Peter huffs morosely, “I wish I was there when it happened. Could’ve caught you, baby.”
You melt. You’re endeared by his care for you. You smile at him and reach out to push his hair from his forehead, his curls soft under your fingers. You drag your hand down the side of his head, fingers heavy, and let your palm rest over his cheek. Peter’s eyelids flutter under your touch.
“It’s okay, Pete,” you tell him brightly. “You can’t win ‘em all.”
Peter laughs, his smile blinding. “Thanks, babe.” He twists his head so he can kiss your palm, a warm press of his soft, wind-bitten lips. “Let’s get you patched up now, hm?”
Peter patches up your knees, hands gentle as he cleans your wounds and presses Band-Aids over them. He’s a practiced hand, having done this plenty of times, on your legs, elbows, fingers, you name it. Though you must admit, you’re far less prone to accidents with Peter around. He catches you more times than he doesn’t. Today was just bad timing.
When Peter’s done fixing you up he lays a kiss on each of your knees, over your fresh white Band-Aids.
“All fixed,” he says happily, sliding his hand up your thigh to give your hip a squeeze.
You beam and cover his hands with yours. “Thanks, Peter.”
Peter stands and pulls you up with him. Your knees sting, but only a little, and it’s nothing you’re not used to.
“You sure you’re okay?” He asks, head ducked so he can meet your eyes, his hair tumbling into the space between your heads. “I can get you some ice, if you like?”
You shake your head. You’d much rather have him stay this close forever. “I’m okay, Pete.”
Peter still looks unconvinced, a frown tugging at his lips. He thinks for a second, then, “Do you want a hug? ‘Cos I know I do.”
You giggle. You’d kill for a hug right now. “Sure.”
You push your arms under his and he circles you in his strong hold, pulling you as close as he can to his chest. He’s careful to avoid your knees bumping his, legs moving so yours are between his. You push your face into his firm chest and breathe him in, his smells, his cologne and the wind on his clothes and that lovely scent he carries around with him everywhere, like old books and coffee shops.
Peter’s face falls into your neck and he sighs, practically melting into you, latching onto you like glue. He’s warm and he’s soft and he’s Peter. The pain in your knees is completely unnoticeable when he’s holding you like this.
“My poor, clumsy girl,” he says eventually, mostly fond, but there’s a whisper of cheek that you don’t miss.
You scowl into his chest. “M’not clumsy,” you whine, though you definitely are and you both know it. “The pavement is uneven.”
Peter pulls back, his big hands on your upper arms. He’s smiling like an idiot. “It is?”
You nod fervently. “Yeah. S’why I tripped.”
Peter nods slowly like you’re telling the truth, like the pavement in the driveway isn’t perfectly even.
“Stupid pavement,” he says.
You giggle and hide your face in his chest again.
-
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lotus-n-l0ve · 10 months
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𝐅𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐄𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐎𝐟 𝐀 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐳𝐞𝐞
— Peter Parker x Stark!Female Reader
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☯ SYNOPSIS : When Peter's girlfriend pays him a little visit in Midtown High School and meets his long time bully, Flash Thompson.
☯ WARNINGS : Au, stark!reader, Peter is barely present in the fic, cursing.
☯ NOTE FROM LOTUS : Hey guys. I have been having such a bad writer's block that I couldn't write anything for past few weeks. I'm writing this to, hopefully, get over my writer's block.
𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 || 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐋 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
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The red Saleen S7 car, parked outside of Midtown High School, gaining curious glances from the students and passersby. You wait, sitting on the driver's seat, with your phone in your hand. The past week you were out of the country with your father so you had not seen him for the past seven days and barely got to talk to him.
So when you came back today, you wanted to give him a surprise visit. You came here, all confident, but now you were doubting your choices. Maybe you should just wait till school ends?
Fuck it. You are Y/N Stark, girl. Since when do you get nervous?
You checked yourself last time in the back mirror. Perfect as always. You throw yourself a flying kiss and put on your favourite pair of glasses. The car door opens with a click and you get down. It was not long before you were walking down the halls of Midtown High, making everyone stop what they were doing and gawk at you.
You chuckle in your mind. Of course you loved being the centre of attention. You were Tony Stark's daughter after all. Now there's one problem. You don't know exactly where Peter is. You look around the hall before your eyes fall on a boy, sitting with two girl on each side.
Without any second thoughts, you walk up to him, "Hey, do you know where Peter Parker is?"
Flash tore his eyes from the beautiful girls in his arm to the legs standing in front of him. He raised his eyes to your face. His gaze so disgusting that made you want to throw up.
"Talking to me, angel?" Flash stood up, abandoning the girls.
You roll your eyes at his pathetic attempt of flirting. At least he got the angel part right.
"I asked if you know where Peter Parker is." You deadpan.
"Peter Parker? Oh! You mean penis Parker. What do you need with him? I'm sure I can help you way more than he can." Flash wiggled his eyebrows at you, giving you a suggestive look.
You just stared at him, completely unimpressed and now angered. This pathetic flirt has the audacity to call your baby penis— wait a damn minute. Penis Parker? Something clicked in your mind.
"Are you Flash Thompson?" You ask before you could stop yourself.
Surprise flashed on his face before a smug smirk appeared on his face.
"Wow! I know that I'm famous but not much. Damn!" He said, running a hand through his hair.
You giggle at his ignorance as you take off your glasses. Folding it and keeping it safely in your hand bag, you step towards him, closing the distance between you two.
"Listen here you little shit." The smirk on his fell at your words, "If I ever hear from Peter that even got anywhere near him, I'll kidnap you, shave off your head, leave you on a deserted island and post your disgusting nudes all over the internet."
"Wh—"
"Shut up and listen." Flash gulped with fear, his face covered in sweat. The menacing aura around you looked scarier than the monster under his bed.
You say while jabbing on his forehead with your pointer finger, "Don't think of him, don't look at him, don't walk on his direction, don't breathe on his direction. Don't go anywhere around my boyfriend. Got it, you failed experiment of a chimpanzee?"
"Y-yes, I....um, I-I..... I under-understand." He nodded his head vigorously. Anything to get away from you.
"Good." You back away, giving him space to finally breathe in relief. Fuck! He didn't know Peter's girlfriend was this scary.
"Y/N?" The familiar voice of your boyfriend called from behind and your demeanour changed like lizards change colours.
"Hey, Pete." You walk up, giving him a quick kiss, "let's go, you are skipping class today. I missed you."
You linked your arm with him and started dragging him out of the school. Peter complied with you because he did miss you a lot too and skipping one day was not going to do any harm on him.
"I missed you a lot." Peter smiled down at you.
You left the school, leaving behind a embarrassed Flash. After you two left did Flash realised the crowd of students circling around him in the hallway. And they were chuckling while looking down at his pants?
Flash looked, "FUCK!"
His blue jeans were now dark blue, water spread on the floor around him. He had peed in his pants. His face turned red with anger and embarrassment. He should not have fucked with Peter.
FUCK!
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© 𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐔𝐒-𝐍-𝐋𝟎𝐕𝐄 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑, 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃 — all content rights belongs to LOTUS-N-L0VE. do not plagiarize any works and do not repost or translate onto any other sites.
All the rights and credits of the characters, gifs, songs and pictures used here belongs to their rightful owners.
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forever-rogue · 1 month
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TASM!Peter thought I cannot get out of my head for the life of me: Reader pestering him about him and his weird spider abilities like Ned in the MCU movies, but he’s just so loving and patient because he knows he’s weird and she’s naturally curious
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AN | Imagine finding out your boyfriend is Spider-Man. It’s going to leave you with a lot of questions, isn’t it?❤️
Pairing | tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader
Warnings | mild language
Word Count | 2.8k
Masterlist | Main | Peter
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“Peter?”
“This isn’t what it-”
“No way!”
“Babe, this is not. I”m not-”
“Holy fuck.”
“Please, you’re dreaming. I’m not actually-”
“Spider-Man,” you blinked a few times and scrubbed at your eyes just to make sure you weren’t dreaming. But when you looked back at your boyfriend he was still standing there, halfway between the window and bathroom, mask in hand and spandex still covering his body. He looked entirely mortified at having been caught, “Peter.”
“Honey, it’s not…I…” he hung his head and let out a long sigh, annoyed with himself for being so careless, “I’m sorry.”
“You’re Spider-Man,” it was all setting in and you weren’t quite sure how to feel; it was a wild mixture of excitement and annoyance and worry and love - everything all at once, “I…you never told me. We’ve been together for almost three years.”
“I know, sweetheart…it was just better than way,” he tossed the mask onto the couch and took a few steps closer to you. You tensed up and shook your head, “I just wanted to keep you safe. That’s all.”
“You lied to me,” you pouted at him and that was enough to break his heart. If there was anything he hated in the world, it was seeing you upset, “for years.”
“I didn’t lie,” he tried softly but you huffed at him, “purposely. You know I would never do anything to hurt you. Everything I do is to protect you.”
“I feel so stupid,” you scrubbed a hand over your tired face in exasperation. All the weird quirks and odd comings and goings seemed to make sense. It felt almost silly that you hadn’t put the pieces together before. Peter wasn’t exactly subtle, “all this time. The random bruises and cuts…the times you suddenly have to leave - your weird schedule. It seems so obvious, doesn’t it? I…Peter Parker.”
“Baby-”
“You’re trying to keep me safe but what about you?” a deep frown settle on your features and Peter shook his head, trying to keep you from going down that particular train of thought, “oh my god. Anything could happen to you! And what if…if something did happen, how would I know?”
Peter gently shushed you, his strong hands settling on your shoulders with a reassuring squeeze. You looked at him, studying his big honey brown eyes and tried to keep the tears in your own eyes from spilling over, “nothing is going to happen to me, I swear it. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”
“It isn’t funny,” you sniffled as a few tears ran down your cheeks, quickly and tenderly wiped away by Peter, “I love you, you dumb bug. I don’t want anything to happen to you. I don’t want to lose you.”
“Nothing is going to happen to me,” he whispered, brushing his knuckles along your cheek, “you know why?”
“Why?” you huffed softly, reaching for his hand and bringing it to your lips so you could press a kiss to it.
“Because I have to get home to you,” he smiled softly, looking more boyish than anything. You exhaled slowly but nodded, “I’m always going to come home to you. There’s nothing I want more.”
“Promise?”
“I promise,” he agreed and you allowed yourself to relax slightly, “by the way, spiders aren’t bugs. Spiders are spiders…well arachnids but they’re a completely separate thing.”
“Fine, you big dumb spider,” you let out a small laugh before playfully rolling your eyes, “you’re just lucky you look in spandex.”
“Yeah?” he teased, turning in a circle and striking a pose, “you think?”
“Shut up,” you groaned as he laughed, “just come to bed with me. But just so you know, this conversation isn’t over.”
“I would expect nothing less, love.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
It took some time to get used to the idea of Peter, your sweet, nerdy, wonderful boyfriend, being Spider-Man. He just never seemed capable of something like that but when you really thought about it, it all made sense. Peter was brilliant and had a kind soul; him helping people just went hand in hand with who he was. 
You weren’t sure if you’d ever get over your worries that something would happen to him - just like he wanted to protect you, you wanted to protect him. That, however, didn’t negate the fact that you had numerous questions for him. You wanted to know everything you could about him well, his spider abilities rather. 
You were curious, luckily Peter loved that curiosity. 
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“Where do your webs come from?” you’d been wrapped up in the book you were reading but the question suddenly hit. Peter was sitting across the couch from you, doing some work on his laptop. He raised an eyebrow as he looked at you, causing your face to warm up, “I just…you have webby stuff, right? Like…where does it come from?”
“Web shooters,” he answered simply, closing his laptop with a soft laugh and giving you his full attention, “it doesn’t come out of my body, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“But spiders have it-”
“Not a spider,” he reminded you as you closed your book and tossed it on the coffee table, “human-spider hybrid. Kind of. I think that’s what you’d call it.”
“Why don’t they call you Human-Spider-Hybrid-Man?” you made a small sound of surprise as Peter reached over and gently maneuvered you onto his lap. His large hands settled on your waist as you wrapped your arms around his neck, “wouldn’t that be more accurate?”
“You’re overthinking it,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “I don’t make it in my body. I make it at the lab.”
“My genius Human-Spider-Hybrid,” you grinned at him and he couldn’t help but return the smile. To say he adored you was putting it lightly, “will you show me sometime? I wanna see it in action.”
He cocked his head to the side as he let go of your waist and held his arms up. You looked at him in confusion and he pulled back the sleeves of his sweater, “they’re right here.”
“Oh,” you reached for one of his arms and looked over the small band around his wrist, “oh? I always thought they were just…bracelets.”
“That’s the point,” he said as you made a small sound of revelation. You held his hand in yours and gave it a tight squeeze, “it’s really not that exciting.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” how could he think being Spider-Man wasn’t exciting? You took his face gently in your hands as you studied the pretty boy, “you are always fascinating and exciting to me.”
“That’s because you love me,” he put his hands on top of yours and give them a squeeze, “you’re biased.”
“I do love you - very much,” you agreed, “but I’d still think the same regardless, Peter Parker.”
He paused before nodding slightly, “I love you too.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Peter could feel you watching him, despite your best efforts to remain subtle. It should be noted, however, that your best efforts were pitiful; you might have been openly gawking at him. He stopped what he was doing and turned to you with a small little smirk on his features, “take a picture, it’ll last longer.”
“That’s your area of expertise not mine, Parker,” you weren’t going to bother denying that he’d caught you. You walked over to the kitchen and hopped onto the counter, swinging your legs back and forth as you watched him finish putting away the dishes, “but you make a pretty picture.”
“And yet still not nearly as beautiful as you,” he put the last mug into the cabinet before turning on his heel and pressing a kiss to your cheek, “why were you watching me like a creepo, huh?”
“I wasn’t watching you! Not like a creepo,” your cheeks warmed up as you gnawed on the inside of your cheek, “I was just…admiring.”
“Uh huh,” he teased, settling his arms on the counter and caging you in, “ admiring. You’re cute. Now tell me what you’re really thinking about.”
“It’s stupid,” you offered him a sheepish smile but Peter just tutted at you before nudging his nose against yours, “promise not to laugh?”
“I promise,” he whispered sweetly, “you know you can tell me anything.”
“It’s a question,” you paused for a moment, “are you like super, super strong? ‘Cause aren’t spiders like proportionally strong?”
Peter leaned back and laughed softly, causing you to gently shove his shoulder. Not that it would matter - he was basically unmoveable. He grabbed your hand and laced his fingers through yours before you could say anything, “sorry, sorry! I didn’t mean to laugh - I’m a horrible, terrible liar. It’s just…you’re precious.”
“Shut up,” you couldn’t deny that inside you were beaming from his praise, “I am not precious! Just curious.”
“I’m pretty strong,” he explained softly as you nodded, “maybe not the strongest being in the galaxy but its up there. I can show you sometime.”
“That’s why you can move things so easily,” it made sense now, why he never seemed to have an issue with moving the furniture or carrying in all the groceries at once, “wow. You’re amazing. The Amazing Spider-Man.”
“Not amazing,” he wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you off the counter, easily and effortlessly holding you. You wrapped your legs around his waist and looped your arms around his neck, “just basically a mutant freak.”
“You’re my mutant freak,” you buried your face in his chest, but not before pressing a kiss to his neck, “that I love, very much.”
“The mutant freak loves you very much too,” you could feel the laughter rumble in his chest as you allowed yourself to melt into him, “curious girl.”
“Can’t blame me,” he could feel you grinning against his skin, “not everyday you find out boyfriend is Spider-Man.”
“True,” he agreed, “I’d be pretty shocked if I found out my boyfriend was Spider-Man.”
“Peter!” this time you were laughing too as he started to walk you both down the hall towards the bedroom, “where are we going?”
“Bedroom,” he rasped, “I can show you how strong I am.”
“Oh,” you felt your entire body warm up, “yes please.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
It was late at night, but you weren't feeling too tired just yet. You were in bed, staring at the ceiling and deep in thought as Peter laid next to you reading. You liked listening to him make some small sounds as he read and the sounds of the pages turning.
“I'm not a mind reader but you're thinking much too loudly,” Peter stole a quick glance at you, causing you to scoff loudly as you rolled onto your side so your back was to him, “honey.”
“Mind your business, Parker,” you burrowed further into your pillow, “I was just staring at the ceiling.”
“Hmm,” he mused softly, “what's your silly question of the day?”
“Excuse- first of all, my questions aren't silly,” you sat up right and crossed your arms over your chest, “and secondly, you're Spider-Man! I have a million questions. Don't be a jerk.”
“I am not,” he insisted through a few giggles as you smacked him with a pillow. You knew that you'd never hurt him which just made the situation all that much more ridiculous, “I love your curiosity. I love all the little things that cross your mind.”
“Now you're just pitying me,” Peter rolled his eyes as he pulled in between his legs so the the two of you were facing one another. He put his large hands on your calves and gave them a gentle squeeze, “Pete.”
“I love you, you know?” He asked softly as you nodded. If there was anything you knew in the world it was that Peter Parker adored you to no end. But then, you loved him just ask much, “you never gotta worry about asking me anything. So come on baby, tell me.”
“Fine. Fine,” you groaned softly before mumbling your question to him, “can you like stick to walls and stuff?”
You'd said it so quickly and fast that Peter hadn't caught what you were saying, “pardon?”
“Ugh,” you huffed, “do you have the ability to crawl on the walls and ceiling like real spiders? Or is something your weird mutant DNA didn't get.”
Peter tried his best not to laugh but he could barely stop the corners of his mouth from quirking up, “yeah, babe, that is something I can do.”
“Whoa,” you watched as Peter stuck his hand to the wall and showed you how it stuck, “that's so cool. Kinda gross but cool.”
“It's definitely gotten me out of a few scrapes before,” he admitted, “I'll take you for a ceiling walk some time.”
Your face lit up with pure excitement before your brows furrowed in confusion, “will our kids have your spidey thingies? What did you call it the other day? Spidey senses?”
Peter had stopped processing anything you were saying as soon as he’d heard our kids. It had stocked something deep within him. He only came back to reality when he felt you tickling his side, “our kids? What do you mean our kids?”
“Oh,” your cheeks warmed up as you bit your lips and shrugged lightly, “I dunno, I just think about it sometimes. You know, one day we’ll have kids. We’ve always talked about that. Unless…you changed your mind?”
“No!” he said much too quickly as a small smile tugged up the corners of your mouth, “I haven’t changed my mind. I-I want kids. With you. Only you.”
“Good,” you relaxed slightly as Peter’s entire face turned bright red, “so what do you think? Will they be part mutant spiders?”
“I don’t know exactly how that works,” he whispered as he pulled you closer to him, “maybe it would be inherited or not. I’m not a geneticist.”
“No,” you shook your head as you took his hand in your face, “just a biophysicist and biochemist. Hardly anything to brag about.”
“I’m basically a professional clown,” he grinned as you traced your fingers along the contours over his face. He was so pretty and you loved getting to have him just like this, gentle and quiet and all yours. He took one of your hands in his and brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, “luckily I’ve got you.”
“I’ve got you too, Peter Parker,” you pulled him into a tight hug; if he had been a normal person you might have crushed him a little too much. Luckily, he was able to withstand your embrace and tenderly hugged you right back, “my Spider-Man.”
“All yours,” he agreed easily, “all yours.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
It was spring now, and the nights were gentle and warm, finally not filled with rain as they seemed to have been the entire winter. You were leaning out the window and taking in the sights and sounds of the New York evening. 
You heard the door to the apartment open, followed by Peter’s familiar footsteps. Before you could turn around to greet him, you felt his arms wrap around your waist as he pulled you into his chest and pressed a kiss to the side of your head. You sighed softly as you pressed your body into him, “hello my love.”
“Hi sweetheart,” he whispered into your ear, “what are you doing hanging out the window?”
“Just admiring the city,” you turned around so you were facing him, “and now I’m admiring you. I’ve got another question for you, my spider.”
“Which is?”
“Will you take me swinging?” you asked softly, a nervous little expression on your face. Peter’s face grew into a large smile as he nodded eagerly. He’d imagined what it would be like with you loads of times before. He never thought he’d get to make it an actual reality, “but promise you won’t drop me?”
“I swear I won’t let anything happen to you,” he promised, “and I promise you’ll have fun. Whenever you’re ready, just say the-”
“I’m ready,” you said excitedly as Peter laughed softly, “can we go now?”
“Yes,” he kissed your cheeks, “let me go and change. Then we’ll go swinging.”
“You’re the best, Parker,” you grinned at him, “I love you so much.”
“I love you too,” he looked at you with soft heart eyes, “my spider girl.”
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 1 year
Note
can you make a peter parker smut where he gets a 89% on his math final and he needs to js take it out on the reader 🤩🤩
A/N: ops, I finished writing this before the clock even struck 6 in the morning... idk how to explain, I have the circadian rhythm of an 80-year-old tbh.
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
masterlist | join my taglist 
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“Not that I’m complaining,” you panted, lazily running your fingers along the dewy spine of the man sprawled out on top of you, “but what was all of that? Where did it come from?”
Shifting his face on the swell of your tits, parting the heat of your bosom from his cheek, he glanced up at you with weary eyes and reluctantly uttered, “I got a 89% on my math final…”
“89?” you cocked a brow, not taking into account who it was you were talking to, “but that’s such a good grade.”
“Yeah, but not for me and especially not in math,” you detected the heated tears threatening to come to fruition, “I’ve never gotten below a 92, period, but that’s usually in things that I suck at, not math, never math,” his hold on you tightened as he lowered his head back down, staring intensely at the chipped spot on the wall beside your bed. 
Eyes locked on the crown of his head, you helplessly uttered just above a whisper, “I’m sorry Peter. I’m really sorry,” feeling your naked body being to tremble beneath his in empathy, “fuck… I don’t know what to do to make you feel better…”
Feeling the spent hardness, that never quite disappeared, press against your inner thigh with a cautious grind of his hips, he peeked up at you once more and suggested, “round two?” actually withdrawing a faint giggle within you from the heart-breaking smirk on his lips, “just let me fuck you till I forget, even if it just slips away for a second, please, let me have this, let me have you…”
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© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 
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astermath · 10 months
Note
uhmmmm
kitchen counter makeouts with pookie bear tasm peter <3
— @inkluvs (ivy)
the way you know damn well you are indulging me adjdkdk and I love you for it bae MWAH @inkluvs
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pairing: tasm!peter parker x fem!reader
tags: just sweet ol fluff, established relationship, first time writing for peter, normal sized text under the cut! <3
word count: 1.2.K
let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list for further peter parker related content!
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With Peter going on patrol until the nightly hours, you'd become used to cooking dinner later in the day. It wasn't a huge deal; you worked from home, and you were usually up when he was back anyways. Whether it was to tend to his injuries, hear about what he'd encountered that day, or just to cook some of his favorite pasta, you were always there for him when he returned. And he really appreciated that.
When you're a superhero, especially an anonymous one, it can be hard to find people to fall back on. That's why he considers having you one of his greatest strengths.
You're absentmindedly stirring some sauce when your boyfriend slips in through the bedroom window. He calls it the "spider-door", you call it a bad habit. He still uses it anyways. It's hard to use the front door of your apartment when you're dressed like the city's most popular vigilante.
He can smell the delicious mix of herbs and ingredients from the other room. The stress from the day was already melting off him, and he hadn't even spoken to you yet. He'd taken the liberty of slipping out of his suit and into a comfortable pair of sweats and a shirt. Although he did think it was snazzy, after wearing it almost the entire day, he couldn't wait to be out of it.
A pair of familiar strong arms wind around your waist, an even more familiar pair of lips pressing a soft kiss to the crook of your neck. You're used to it by now, the unexpected, sneaky greetings late at night. You weren't spooked by him, you rarely were. He likes to think his spidey senses have rubbed off on you.
He breathes in the scent of you, cheek resting onto your shoulder, and you can feel him relax into you.
"Good to see you too baby," you move your head to press a chaste kiss to his head, "how was patrol?"
"Fine," he sounds tired, and it's kind of hot, "stopped that coffee shop you like from being broken into."
"My hero," you chuckle, "now I won't have to miss those delicious chocolate croissants."
He whines lowly in response. It's a stark contrast to how he usually is, all talkative, giddy, boyish grins and jokes, bubbly laughter and strong hugs. Being a superhero will do that to you. Not exactly change you, just tire you out. A lot.
"Tired?" You ask, eyes remaining on the sauce you were preparing. It was a dumb question, of course he's tired, but he always hated admitting it.
To your surprise, he doesn't respond. Instead, he leans down and starts pressing kisses to your neck and shoulder again. You silently thank your past self for wearing a tank top, so he had plenty of access to your skin.
His lips leave tingles in their wake, your sauce becoming less interesting by the second, until you eventually turn around. You sigh at the sound of him; his hair is messy, his eyebags are prominent and he definitely needs a shower, but boy is he pretty. So pretty.
He lets you take a second to admire him, like he knows you love to do. Hands come up to cup his cheeks, the tiniest bit of stubble scratching against your palms. Your face is graced by an adoring smile, and that alone always lets him know; everything's okay, I got you.
He leans down, lips searching yours again. You happily indulge, one hand sneaking into the hair at the back of his neck. The kiss is longing, practically aching to be closer. You can feel how much he missed you just by the way his hips slide over yours.
His hands settle onto your waist, and for a moment you think he's just going to let them stay there. Of course not, because your boyfriend is anything if not unpredictable. With a gentle grip he lifts you up and turns the both of you around, setting you down onto the counter across the stove.
You giggle through the kiss, and you can feel him smile along with you, but he doesn't let go. It's like he can't, and not in a "help I just got spider powers and now I'm glued to you" way, no, like a "I'm so in love with you that I want this to last forever" way.
His hands settle onto your thighs, thumbs rubbing gentle, soothing circles into your skin. It's like this is what recharges him. Not food, not water, this is what he survives on. Your pure unconditional affection.
Unfortunately for the two of you, humans do need air to live, so you're forced to pull away after a while. Still, you remain close, noses rubbing together ever so slightly, foreheads leaning against each other.
“You ‘kay sweetie?” Your voice is gentle, not wanting to ruin the tooth achingly sweet moment the two of you are having.
“Mhm…” He presses a chaste kiss to your lips. “Just so happy to see you again… I missed you.” he accentuates his words with another kiss. “A lot.”
A warm smile adorns your face when he admits to his longing for you. You know he misses you, he tells you every day, and he knows that the sentiment is returned. You both have your reasons to be missing each other; with Peter being a superhero, he has to be careful, so the reality of any day possibly being his last was… Present. Plus, it’s a busy job. Besides the one he already has.
You just enjoy each other’s presence for a moment, basking in the radiating glow of what could only be described as an aura of love. It was like nothing outside that kitchen mattered anymore, at least not for now. You and Peter against the world, out of your small apartment in Queens.
“Honey?” He asks, and you think he’s going to say something else really sweet and heartwarming to really drive the point home. Until you see the furrow in his brows.
“I think, uh— whatever you were making is burning.”
“Fuck!” You hopped off the counter and went back to the pot of sauce, groaning when you realised the bottom of it was burnt. “It’s fine, I can— I can salvage this.” You looked over at your boyfriend, who had an apologetic smile on his face. “We can make out all you want after I make you dinner, ‘kay?”
“And every day after?” His voice is gentle, his hand resting on your lower back to keep some form of physical contact with you.
“Of course,” you stand on your tippy toes to press a kiss to his cheek, “every day after too.”
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Text
PREACHERS DAUGHTER- P.B PARKER
Pairing: Best Friend! Peter x Fem! Reader
Word Count: 3.4k
Summary: you and peter were complete opposites, you the goodie two shoes preachers daughter, him the bad boy next door. yet fate has pulled the two of you together, and you can’t help but feel a certain lust for him.
Warnings: ORAL (fem), teasing, kissing, marking, pet names, best friends falling in luvvv, swearing, weed involved, booze mentioned, praise kink, masturabtion mentioned, lotsss of dirty talk, peter blowing smoke into reader mouth
based of the album- preachers daughter, by ethel cain
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It was mesmerizing- the way his fingers moved. 
You felt as if you were under a trance, the watch on the chain swinging back in forth in front of your eyes, hypnotizing you. 
His rings, silver and shining in the pale moonlight the clock hands, the veins that ran up his wrists acted as the numbers that blurred together after some time. 
Each component drew you in as his fingers strummed each string, moving up and down the fingerboard to play each chord, a sweet melody emerging from the instrument. 
Your mind was far, far off from the homework you swore to yourself you would be doing tonight, despite having your best friend over. You knew you couldn't focus on anything but him, yet you let him slip through your window, with the cracked and peeling paint you refused to paint over- because you and Peter were the reason for its damage. 
You refused to change anything he had touched or wrecked, whether that be the broken dresser handle that was hanging on for dear life, or the jumble of photos the two of you had pasted on your walls while drunk out of your minds.
 They looked awful, all crooked and cluttered to fuck, but you didn’t touch them. 
Refused to. If Peter placed them there, that's where they stayed. 
You looked up at them now, gaze focusing on the smiling faces that stared back at you, that watched over your every move- in a comforting sense. Their presence lingered, as you peered back over to Peter, following the sound of strum from the strings, the sound coming to a screeching halt as he suddenly fished for something in his ripped jean pocket. 
He was so beautiful when he was concentrated. 
The subtlety bite of his lip, pearly whites tugging on the flesh with a sense of urgency as his jaw would clench. The way his messy, slightly ruffled russet hair would fall in front of his eyes, rings glimmering as he slid his hand through the locks to push it back into place. 
You wanted to run your fingers through his hair, wanted to tug on them to make him hiss in pleasure, the way he did the one night he had decided to use your thighs as a pillow. Peter's reaction was tenuous, a slight growl escaping from the cage of his clenched teeth.
 You noticed, though. You always noticed, when it came to him. 
“Bunny? You want one?” he asked softly, pre-rolled in blunt twirling between his large fingers, making you stare in awe. 
“Bun?” 
Oh shit, you were staring. 
“N-no Pete it’s okay. I’m good for now.” you smiled, a heat rising to your cheeks as you forced yourself to stare back down at your tattered notebook filled with scribbles and numbers you had no clue what to do with.
 It was better than looking at his fingers and getting caught again. 
Anything was. 
“Alright pretty but you let me know if you want one okay? Your asshole of a father won't find out, if that's what you're worried about.” he chuckled softly, throwing you a wink as he toyed with the drug, a cat with its dinner.
 Of course that's what you were worried about. You were the minister's daughter, a holy saint if there ever was one. The good girl, your father's little angel. 
We have a reputation to uphold Y/L/N. Don't mess it up, or there'll be consequences. Big ones. 
You had followed his words as he did with passages in that dog-eared bible of his, the rosemary beads sprawled out as a bookmark for his pages. 
So, how in the world did Peter Parker- the boy wrapped in sin your father warned you about, end up as your best friend, the man you trusted with your life? You didn't know, but you were thankful for it. 
It made you laugh every time Peter offered you a smoke, he knew your answer had never changed, yet he always offered anyways. He was sweet that way. It was different with weed, you supposed. 
You were always terrified your father would be able to see right through you, be able to sniff the drugs on you like a hound dog. You made excuses for booze. 
Your father provided red wine during Sunday services, the blood of the lord for all to taste, cannibalism in its cleanest, purest form. Counting on two hands the number of times you and Peter had snuck into the old, gothic church your father managed, getting drunk off the wine in the wooden pews under the stained glass windows was impossible. 
You watched as Peter leaned his guitar against the windowsill, grabbing a lighter from his other pocket, the snake tattoos curled and wrapped along his finger seeming to hiss at you in the dim light of your room. 
“Peter?” you called, making his head snap up, the fire from his light diminishing as fast as it came. “C-can I light it for you?” you asked shyly, watching as that boyish grin that you loved so much came to his face, dimples appearing as he took you in, realizing you were serious. 
“You wanna be an angel and help me out eh?” he teased, making you nod frantically. 
Angel. 
The words alone had your toes curling in your thigh-high socks you knew Peter adored, his fingers always seeming to toy with the little black bows whenever he got the chance. He towered over you even more than he already did as he stood, making his way over to where your body was lounging on the ruffled white sheets. 
“Dad’s not home ya know. I forgot about that.” you tugged on your inner cheek, watching as Peter dropped to his knees before you, like a devil about to spread its wings. 
Begging for mercy before you. 
“Does that mean you do wanna hit then?” he asked, blunt between his teeth as your thumb flicked the flame to life, watching the blues and oranges crackle as you lit his joint. 
“Don’t know how.” you shrugged, watching as he exhaled, the sweet sickly smell of weed filling your senses as he exhaled.
 “We can try something if you want bunny. D’trust me?” You nodded, eager to obey his commands. He smiled, rings cold against your chin as he grabbed it lightly, the pads of his fingers slightly calloused from the strings. 
“Say ahh bunny.” You opened your mouth widely, the smoke he had inhaled floating into your mouth as he exhaled, fogging up your lungs. He was so close you could hear the thud of his heartbeat, could feel the soft heat rolling off him in waves to soothe you in a gentle embrace. 
“Atta girl!” he laughed as you felt the sticky taste coat the back of your throat, mouth turning dry as the Saraha.
 “Peter this tastes like shit.” you groaned, coughing and sputtering as he gently slapped your arm. “No swearing. Or else I’ll wash your mouth out with soap.” he teased, making you burst out in laughter as he rolled onto the bed, smooshing your lower half with his bodyweight- making you groan as his head lolled. 
You felt your skin warm to the touch with how close he was to you, your legs parted slightly so he could wedge his way between them and rest on you. 
“I gotta do my homework silly.” you smiled as he took another puff, his eyes turning a fair shade of red as he watched the smoke slither upwards.
 “I can be your study buddy if ya want.” 
“I’d get no work done if you were my study buddy. You distract me too much.” you teased, giggling as his hand reached over to tickle your thigh gently. “We’d make such a great team. We could be on the mathletes together bunny.” 
You rolled your eyes at his sly commentary, a hand slipping through the soft, messy tumbles of his hair as he sighed in happiness. Nails began to scratch his scalp soothingly, and his chest began to rumble- purring like a cat as you tended to him. 
Just as you wanted. 
The curtains rustled in the breeze that snaked through the cracked window goosebumps appearing on your bare skin as the papes blew. You looked out through the glass, scoping out the graves that surrounded your house. 
You could map out the entire cemetery as you had lived in this old, creaking house your entire life- could picture every little twisted path and old rusting benches that were scattered. It was peaceful here, the only real company consisted of the ghosts and Peter when he came over to visit. 
Your father was never really present, too busy with the works of the church than his own flesh and blood.
 It was an easy silence between the two of you, one you enjoyed immensely. It was different than the other silences you had dealt with in your lifetime- long and uncomfortable. With Peter, they were pleasant and easy, a place where you could be in your own thoughts and not feel bad about it. 
You were lost in them now, as you looked down at him. 
He’s never looked so beautiful. How did I get so lucky- to score him as my best friend? 
Continuing your head scratches, you let your head lull against the headboard, closing your eyes to tune out the world. He continued to smoke, hand resting on your thigh with each inhale. 
“You got somewhere I can put this angel?” he asked, hand waving as he gestured to the stump of the blunt, the weed diminishing. You hadn't realized how much time had passed, the hands on the clock hoping forward since the last time you had looked over at them. 
“Over there is fine.” you pointed to the little dish on the dresser you had left for him whenever he was over, degrading it whenever your father returned home. 
You didn't comment on how much Peter had smoked, just as you didn't comment on how much whisky your father drank whenever he got mad. 
You didn't care enough. 
He shuffled up, puffing the remainder towards you, the smoke cascading around your cheeks, tickling your eyelashes as the old bed creaked. 
“You’re such a doll, you know that?” You smiled. 
“Maybe. It's not like you tell me allll the time or anything.” you teased, poking fun at how sweet he was to you. No one was as ever kind to you as Peter was. It made your insides tingle, made your skin all sensitive to the touch. 
He smiled that cheeky grin that drove you wild, tapping the ash into the dish before he crushed it with his fingers, rings glittering in the soft candlelight. Your homework was long forgotten at this point, your attention solely focused on the beautiful angel of a man that stood before you at the foot of your bed. 
“Hi.” you waved to him, his hand raising to wave back from across the room. 
“Hi bunny.”
 “Cmere.” you insisted, and he smirked as he crawled onto the bed, the look in his eye hungry as he took you in. You looked at him now, really looked at him as his strong arms slid to each side of you, caging you in his hold. 
He was black and blue, the beautiful melancholy shades in between. The way he loved was different than anything you had experienced before. It was scary, a freefall into the depths of the icy water you were scared to tread. But it was numbing- the way he cared. 
A soft and sweet energy, that pricked you gently like pins and needles. His breath was warm as he refused to break eye contact and you wanted to shrink into the depths of the mattress as you felt yourself cave. 
“I bet you taste so good.” he confessed softly, his words making you shudder with delight. 
You knew where this was going. It was heading down the old beaten path the two of you had stumbled down so many times, when you were both drunk off sin in the walls of the church. 
You liked it. 
“Yeah?”
 “Yeah angel. Mmm god I think about tasting you all the time, your skin, your lips, your fingertips..” he trailed off, head dropping down to your chest, rubbing his nose against the skin of your collarbone. 
You felt your hips wriggle, wetness seeping into your panties. “What do you think they taste like?” you sighed as his teeth gently grazed you, biting into your flesh to mark it as his own. 
“Like cinnamon n sugar. So. Fuckin. Sweet.” he kissed your neck between each word as you gigged softly, his plump lips making you squirm. 
“You’re so addicting baby. The things I wanna do to you…” he smirked, licking a stipe where your silky nightgown dipped, revealing the slight curve of your breasts. 
Heels were dug into the ruffled sheets, the sound of your books falling to the hardwood below echoed as the strong breeze brushed you again. No amount of wind could chill the fire that was burning in your veins right now. 
“But we can’t do them. Cause we’re best friends.” you pouted, running your fingers along the back of his neck, curving them around to trace each vein that pulsed as he shivered. 
“Who says?” he whispered, like he was in a trance, and you felt your dress being pushed up, up, up to pool around your waist, your stomach exposed as his head dipped down towards it. 
“Best friends do everything together bunny. Don't you think about me like I think about you?” he asked mischievously and you nodded frantically.
 “Mmm sometimes.”
 “Cause I think about you alll the time. Think about how good you’d be for me when I’m strokin my dick.” he confessed, shuffling down to trail kisses across your stomach, your legs spreading wider as he found his home between them. 
“Y-yeah?” you whimpered, heart beating so fast you heard the blood racing in your ears, his voice sounding distant. It was hard to focus, but at the same time it was hard to focus on anything but him. 
The human body was a funny thing, sometimes. How yours could bend and contract to his will at the whisper of his voice, at the touch of his skin.
 “Mmm yeah. You make me wanna do such bad bad things. But you’re too sweet for that.” 
Oh god. Oh god, oh god, oh god. 
“Peter-” 
“Can I tase you? Please? Just a lil lick, I swear.” 
You moaned at his words alone. How did they sound so sweet, so innocent when there was so much filth behind them? You could never say no to him.
 Never. 
“Please.” you urged, the chill breeze making you tremble as he removed your thong, your knees bent slightly over his shoulders. It happened in a blur, time seeming to jump and snap back again as he had you under his thumb, hanging onto every word he said. 
The first lick sent you into overdrive, body shifting up gears as you crude out his name- hands tugging at his strands of hair as if they were reins. The faint scent of weed trickled through your nose, blemishing your skin and sweat as it trickled. 
You couldn't think. Couldn't move, couldn't speak. 
You and Peter had fooled around before but this…this was new territory. And it felt good. A lick turned into a taste as you heard him growl, tongue stroking through your sensitive folds again. 
“You- you said just a taste-” you panted out, hips thrusting against him as he chuckled.
 “I lied. You should've known.” he teased, eyes meeting yours again- stare so intense you had to look away. 
It was frightening- the eye contact. It was an endless void, a freefall you weren't sure if you'd have a hand to catch you. It was filled with an emotion you couldn’t quite place, a haziness that made you feel sluggish, like you had drank too much cheap booze, and smoked too many cigarettes. 
You were as breathless as the summer's night outside as he dived back in, malnourished and needy as he devoured you. His lips suctioned around your clit, sucking it sweetly as you wethered and moaned. 
“So so sweet…” he murmured. You felt yourself snap under him as his tongue pushed you over the edge, releasing onto his face as you cried out. His hands tightened their grip around the barricade of your thighs, chin gleaming with your juices as your body shuddered from the aftershocks. 
“That's a girl. My sweet sweet angel.” he sang out, shuffling up to kiss your lips gently, the taste of yourself staining your mouth. You savored his affections, wrapping your arms around his neck, desperate for something to cling to. 
You were scared to let him go, scared he would leave you vulnerable and open like all the others. He sensed your hesitation, rolling over to the side of you, nuzzling his head into your neck as you continued to hold him close. 
“Was I good?” you asked meekly, your biggest fear not being enough for him. 
He just smiled. 
“More than good. The best.” he whispered, kissing your skin. You exhaled a sigh of relief, tension seeping from your bones as you cradled him. 
You heard an owl coo out from the branches of the old oak tree that scratched your house, the wind howling against the old siding. You basked in the emptiness of the room, no one here but the two of you and the peeling posters that peered down at you from the walls.
 He wasn't leaving you. He wasn't embarrassed or ashamed and he was staying with you. He wanted to do this. 
It was hard to think about, hard to wrap your head around it as you had been so shameful of your desires towards him for so long. The old wooden cross that was hung above your bed seemed almost mocking as it reflected in your vanity mirror, a symbol of overcoming sin now with a meaning diminished. 
“You awake?” you asked Peter softly, ripping your eyes from the wood, knowing your father's words would haunt you the longer you were left to your own avail.
 There were so many responses you wanted to spew out to him. 
God loves you- but not enough to save you. 
But you didn’t, to save yourself the abuse of his wrath. 
“Mmm.” he mumbled sleepy, the weed putting him a place of serenity and calm as he synced his breathing with yours. “Did you want me to return the favor?” you mumbled, feeling bad he didn't get the same opportunity you did. 
He just shook his head. “Another time angel. Let me just… lie with you. I like when I just get to be with you like this.” he yawned, bed creaking as he slung his arm around your waist to pull you closer.
 “Okay. Whatever you want.” 
Silence. 
You sighed, flexing your feet, then pointing your toes. The red polish glimmered as the shadows of the wax dripping off the candles bounced off the walls, the smell of the incessant to “hide” the weed smelling of sandalwood. 
A truck rumbled in the distance, its tires rolling against the gravel. Peter sat up, eyes flickering to the headlights that beamed towards the house, making you feel anxious as you clung to the bedsheet. 
Was your father home early? He wasn't supposed to be home until tomorrow night, and you knew if he walked in on you and Peter- you’d never hear the end of it. 
“Is he home?” Peter shook his head as he moved towards the window, and you readjusted your nightgown. His hair was messy and rumpled as he stood, hands resting on the windowsill as he peered down.
 A grin was on his face as he turned back to face you, your heartbeat slowing its dangerous pace with an exhale. 
He wasn't home. Or else Peter wouldn't be smiling. 
“Well? Who the hell is at my house at-” Your eyes flickered back to the clock. “Eleven at night?” 
Peter just shrugged, a cheeky look on his face as he walked towards the bedroom door, grip on the brass handle tightening as he swung it wide open. 
You heard the front door open, two familiar voices echoing from down the hallway. 
Bucky and Steve. 
“Look who decided to pay us a visit!” Peter laughed, making you shake your head with a smile. 
Look who decided to visit indeed. 
3K notes · View notes
luveline · 1 year
Note
good morning (at least in my time zone) jade! for hurt/comfort requests, could i maybe get peter putting together a little self care day for r because she’s burnt out from finals week? i hope you’re doing well ily 💜
i love you!! listened to honeybody for this!! peter and his adoring but burnt out gf
"Why are you home?" you ask. 
Peter grins at you, a near lavish smile, leaned up against the doorway of your bedroom expectantly. "If you want to break up with me, there are nicer ways." 
You rush to slip out of your shoes and practically throw yourself at him. If Peter's surprised he doesn't show it, lifting you easily up into his chest, your socked feet struggling to keep purchase with the rug. 
"I missed you," you say. You don't mean to, but it's the truth.
Peter noses at your hairline. "I missed you. Glad we're not breaking up." 
You huff a laugh against his cheek. He smells amazing but nothing like he usually does after his nightly patrols. There's a distinct lack of perspiration, only the warm stick of his deodorant and cologne. You kiss his cheek, the corner of his mouth, heart racing with excitement. It's not often you get him all to yourself. 
You kiss him again and pull away. "Never. But seriously, why are you home? S'it my birthday?" 
Peter takes a step back, unveiling the many different things spread out across your bedspread. You tear your eyes from him, wind-whipped and handsome and grinning, and feast your eyes on what he's done. 
There's a basket's worth of different things in a range of colours, mostly skincare, your usual face wash and moisturiser, a green tea toner, serums, stuff you didn't even know Peter was aware of. 
"What's all this for?" you ask, eyes widening when you spot new pyjamas nestled at the top of the bed near the pillows. You turn to him with a glowing smile. "Pete?" 
"You haven't had time to yourself in ages. Or you haven't been making it, with finals coming up. Figured you couldn't avoid it if we did it together." 
"Oh," you say, noticing that some of the things he's bought he's bought in pairs. Two sheet masks, two new pairs of socks. "Did you get yourself new pyjamas, too?" 
He unzips his hoodie. Where usually you'd expect the spider-man suit, you find only a shirt that matches the one he's purchased for you. 
He's expecting your second hug, arms opening wide. You fall into them.
"You're my favourite person on the planet," you declare, rubbing his collarbone with the side of your head. 
"You're mine, bub." His voice is sweet and light, riddled with laughter, and his hands reflect that where they rub up and down the length of your back. 
"All yours," you say agreeably, burying your face in his neck. 
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night-daily · 10 months
Text
Jealousy jealousy | Peter Parker x fem! reader
Summary: 3 times where Peter hears you fangirling over Spiderman and one time he finally explodes.
warnings: none.
a/n: enjoy and let me know if there's any mistakes please!:)
The first time, he overheard you talking to your friends, was an accident, he didn't on purpose it just happens every time he sees you, he has no control over his senses. And he doesn't realize he's eavesdropping until you say something that brings him back to reality.
“... I think he's hot.” whoa, were you talking about him? Nice. “I mean, have you seen how athletic he is?” fuck, it wasn't him. Yeah, he participates in P.E class but he has to pretend he isn't good at it so you or anyone else wouldn't get suspicious. So it couldn't be him.
Peter turned his face away from you, feeling insecure. You were dumping him? Who was this guy?
“Hey, what are we talking about?” One of your friends came to the table you and your friends were eating.
And of course, Peter needed to hear the name of the guy.
''I'm masochistic?''
“Spider man!” You exclaimed with a smirk on your face making your friends groan. His heart stopped for a second. “Again?” Your friend rolled playfully her eyes to you. And you nodded with your head cheerily.
Peter felt his body relax at your words. So you like Spider man uh? Only if you knew Spider man likes you too.
The second time, the two of you are in his room, he sitting at his desk doing homework while you are doing yours in his bed. Well, you got bored doing the homework so now you were just rambling stuff about your classes, your friends, and...
“Hey, have you heard about Spider man?” Peter's body froze. “You know, the Superhero.” He hums in agreement, incapable to make a comment. “I heard some people show up at the crime scenes just to watch him in action.” And Peter dislike that people, they could get hurt and they didn't even care, and for what? just to watch him? “Yeah, that's crazy.” He expected you to agree with him, but you were quiet. “That's crazy, right?” He turns his chair to look at you, but you were avoiding his eyes. “... I don't know, to be honest, I would like to watch him in person too, even a glimpse of him.” Now he was seeing red. Why would you do that? Why would you put your life in danger for someone who you don't even know? Why would you do that for Spider man?
He couldn't help but feel a hole in his chest, it was a heavy and ugly feeling, he had never felt something like that. Jealousy. “What’s so good about him, anyway?” Peter muttered, turning himself, and ignoring the smile that crept across your face.
The third time, you were getting ready to hang out with your friends at the new coffee shop, doing your makeup you saw Peter through the mirror leaning against the doorframe of your room.
“Take a picture, it'll last longer.” your teasing smile sent butterflies to his stomach. “Why would I want a picture? If I have you all for myself.” He came closer to you from behind your back, placing kisses on your naked shoulder. “Oh, you're lucky that I haven't met Spider man then.” He stopped kissing your shoulder “Please, go with him if you like him so much” You turned your face to him. “I'm kidding Pete, I already have you and I love you so much.” You squeezed his hand. “Also, I'm pretty sure he wouldn't notice me, I bet he dates models”
He didn't know why he was more upset, you doubting how beautiful you are or assuming that Spider man wouldn't notice you. But you were wrong in both assumptions.
“You are the fucking prettiest girl I've ever met and anyone would be so lucky to share the same oxygen you breathe because I know I am.” And he smashed your lips, it was a passive-aggressive kiss. “I'm lucky too.”
And the one time he finally explodes, Peter was resting in his bed after a long night patrol when you crossed the door excitedly.
“PETER YOU'RE NOT GOING TO BELIEVE WHAT HAPPENED LAST NIGHT” Oh, sure he did. “What happened, love?” He played fool. “So, remember when you dropped me at the corner of the street? Well, guess what!?” You made it a short pause not giving him the chance to respond “SPIDER MAN WAS THERE TOO” He gasped. “No way!” You grabbed your phone and unlocked it “AND HE GAVE ME FLOWERS. NOT JUST THAT, TULIPS, MY FAVORITES” You showed him the photos of you and your tulips, you looked so happy and that makes him happy too. “He shouldn’t go after other people’s girlfriends” He half-joked. You laughed “Maybe after all you have a rival” He wasn't smiling anymore “I mean, who gifts tulips to a complete stranger? Maybe he likes me? OH MY GOD, SPIDER MAN LIKES ME! WOULD YOU IMAGINE US TOGE-” “Babe, I'm Spider man!” Peter cuts you off. He couldn't stand anymore hear you falling for Spider man. But how would you react? Would you hate him for keeping it secret?
“I knew it!” He was shocked “Wait, what?” you shrugged “Honey, you aren't that subtle.” Now, if you knew it, why you had never told anything to him? “I never told you anything because I kind of enjoy you being like this and I want to know how much you could take it before admitting you were jealous and you were Spider man.” Peter blushed “I never would have thought I’d ever be jealous about me.” You winked at him “Oh, jealousy looks good on you.”
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cosmal · 1 year
Note
✪ — sender  is  found  drunk  by  receiver, ❛ i just wanted to make sure you’re okay. ❜
tequila makes me sleepy
summary — pete comes to find you at a party after you call him.
content — tasm!peter parker x fem!afab!reader, drunk!reader, metnions of gross guys sexualizing reader
Peter doesn't have his mask on. He's been swinging about Queens trying to find the party you're at and he hasn't thought about how he's recognisable the entire time.
He thinks about how tired you'd sounded on the phone. How you'd begged him to stay on the phone so you wouldn't fall asleep. Thinking about it more makes him panicky, but he can't help it.
"Tequila makes me sleepy, Parker."
"Yeah? Where are you, honey?"
"Some party. Stay on the phone? Don't wanna fall asleep."
Eventually, he finds the party. In the back of his dizzy mind, he remembers you mentioning it on Tuesday when you were over at his apartment. He remembers how excited you were about it and how upset you were because he wasn't coming.
He lands in the alley beside the building and wastes no time in pushing through the front door. He stands in the front entranceway and starts to get frustrated. Most of the time, he hates his enhanced senses. Even more so right now because he can't hear you.
He blames it on the crowd. There are way too many people here for him to be focusing on just one. But it's you. He knows more about you than he does himself and he can't fucking hear you. He hopes that he's too overwhelmed. The reason why he can't hear you. Not because you've left and you're somewhere, drunk and unsafe, where he can't find you.
"Hey," he grabs the arm of some drunk guy, "where's the bedroom?"
Pointing down to the left with a wobbly arm, "Down that hall," he slurs.
Peter doesn't say thank you. He drops his arm and heads In that direction. Avoiding PDA and more rowdy drunk guys.
The relief he feels when he pushes open the door only lasts a few moments. He finds you, on your stomach with your face smooshed against your arm, asleep. Your sparkly dress rides up your legs to reveal enough bare skin to make Peter feel uncomfortable. He's grateful he's here right now.
The mattress dips down where he sits down by your head, and can't help himself from pushing your messy hair from your face.
Your lips parted, you wrinkle up your face when you start to rouse. Peter is selfish with his hands, squeezing at the fat of your shoulder, running a knuckle down your soft cheek. Slowly, you come to, blinking away your fatigue. Peter, and he's super sorry for it, thinks you're adorable.
"Hello," he says softly. He doesn't know why, but he feels guilty for waking you.
"Peter," you say, lips sticking together with blotchy gloss, "Pete, hey." This time when you say it, it's just understandable. He appreciates the fond hum to your words nonetheless.
"Hey," he says and pushes his thumb into your cheek. You groan because he's a nuisance but he doesn't care because you're okay.
You sit up on your elbows and he can tell you're trying not to wobble. He wants to stable you but doesn't know how to in your position. You seem as dizzy as he'd expect because you always are when drunk. You have the scars on your knees to prove it.
"What are you doing here?" you mumble, scratching at your face with a flippancy he hates.
He catches your hand and rubs your face for you. Gently, because he's not mean, he smooths the back of his hand down your cheek and pushes his fingers over your eyebrow and into your hair.
"Just wanted to make sure you were okay," he tells you. "You sounded bad on the phone, honey."
"Shit, I'm," you hiccup and he panics for a moment. "Shit I'm sorry, Pete, I didn't mean to scare you."
"It's okay," he says honestly. You did scare him but it's okay now because it was reasonable. And you're okay.
You sit up and swing your legs over the edge of the bed and he stables you with a hand on the bottom of your back. Pulling your dress down your legs, he frowns when you shiver.
"You cold?" he worries.
Nodding, you clearly regret it with a groan. "A little. This dress is horrible."
"You think?"
"Yeah, it's itchy and-" you're hiccuping some more and he hopes you don't make yourself sick, "it's too small. The guys here- they, they're gross."
Peter goes rigid. "They didn't do anything did they?"
You shake your head and there's a timidness to you that Pete wants to capture and keep forever. You, an image, rumpled clothes and droopy eyes. Despite how worried he'd been only ten minutes ago, he thinks you're amazing. It's terrifying, honestly.
"No, they just look at me..." you trail off and look at the wall over Peter's shoulder quickly, "They look at me like I'm a piece of meat."
Peter doesn't know what to say. He feels queasy.
"Well, they don't look at me like you are right now."
"Like what?" he lets his tongue catch up to his head.
"I don't know." You shrug and look at your lap.
Peter can't help himself. "I hope they don't look at you like I do. Like you're the prettiest girl in the room. If they do, they need to find someone else."
You let your head fall against his shoulder. "Pete..."
"It's true."
"They don't." He can hear your smile.
"They don't?" Peter now sounds half-offended. "Who else are they looking at like that? You're the prettiest girl in the room."
You have the decency in you to scoff. "You're unbelievable."
"I know," he says when you yawn. "I know. C'mon let's get you home."
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bruisedboys · 1 year
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peter parker who always lets you hang off his arm. you’re always holding it to your chest when walking or just standing. letting him do the guiding because you just want to stick to his side. you wrap both your arms around his and just fiddle with his fingers and maybe tug on them when you need his attention. you rest your chin on his shoulder when he’s stopped to talk to someone or when you’ve both sat down. you just have to be near him tbh <3333 and he doesn’t care one bit, he actually hates it when you’re not as close.
aerial why would you do this to me!!! I want to be his clingy gf so bad. also this is really short sorry </3
Peter sometimes finds it hard to breathe when you cling to him like this. You’re so close and your warmth is seeping into him and your perfume smells like honey and flowers and hell, he’s so in love with you he could die.
One of your hands is slotted in his, your fingers having searched for his and found them the moment you’d stepped outside. Your other hand is curled around his elbow, clutching his arm to your chest. Peter thinks it’s cute, how close you want to be to him. How you don’t seem to want to let him go.
“Y/N, honey,” he says with a poorly contained grin. “You okay?”
You look up at him, pretty as ever. Peter’s chest burns at the sight of you.
“Fine,” you say, and you look it. Your smile is bruising.
The breeze has blown a strand of hair across your face. Peter lifts his free arm and pushes the stray lock behind your ear, his hand lingering on your jaw.
“Did you decide what you feel like eating?” He asks slowly. It’s hard to get the words out when his fondness and adoration for you is making his chest tight.
You don’t notice, and besides, you look like you’re feeling an equal amount of fondness for him. “I was thinking Thai,” you say thoughtfully. “But only if you want that too?”
Peter grins. He doesn’t care what he eats, as long as it’s with you. He presses his thumb to the corner of your mouth, then leans down to press a chaste kiss to your wind-bitten lips. “Thai it is.”
Peter and you walk the short distance to the Thai restaurant. You cling to Peter the entire way. He can’t stop smiling. He wants you this close forever, even if it means you’re so close he has to be extra careful not to step on your feet.
The Thai place is busy tonight. Neither of you mind. You stand in line, so close your shoes press up against each other. You fiddle with Peter’s fingers, trace the lines on his palm, the veins on the inside of his wrist. Peter is putty in your hands. His chest feels like it’s on fire, worse when you press into his side and let your head fall against his shoulder, your weight familiar and soft and warm all at once.
By the time the food comes out, hot and fresh and smelling delicious, Peter’s chest is already so full with fondness for you he’s not sure he can fit anything else in there. He tries his best.
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moonstruckme · 2 months
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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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forever-rogue · 5 months
Text
Spidey Senses
Tumblr media
AN | You never fight with Peter, sometimes things change. Luckily, you love your Spider more than anything❤️
Pairing | tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader
Warnings | Language
Word Count | 3.5k
Masterlist | Main | Peter
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“You’re thinking too loudly.”
You remained silent as you gently wiped away the dried blood from the gash on his shoulder. You hadn’t said much to him since he came home but that didn’t stop you from taking care of him. You always took care of him, that had never been a question. 
When you were done patching him all up, you moved to rinse out the blood from the washcloth under the hot water, watching as the water went from crimson to clear. You felt his eyes on you the entire time. 
“I don’t think you want to hear what I’m thinking, Peter,” you caught his eye in the mirror, a heavy frown on your features that caused him to hang his head with a heavy sigh. You turned to leave the bathroom, but he caught your wrist, fingers wrapping delicately onto your soft skin, “Peter. I just want to go to bed. Please.”
“Tell me,” he insisted softly as you closed your eyes and sighed heavily, “whatever it is, just let me hear it.”
“Fine,” you turned around and faced him; Peter could see that your eyes were already wet with unshed tears, “fine - you want to know what I’m thinking? I’m thinking that…you need to slow down, Peter. You keep coming home hurt and it’s only been getting worse lately. I know it’s selfish to say but do you know how hard it is to see you like that? I…you have Miles - New York has Miles. He can handle himself and he can and will ask for help if he needs it. But maybe it’s time to let him do more and you can…just slow down a little. I just want to know that you’re going to come home and that you’re going to come home alive.”
“I am Spider-Man,” his lips were drawn into a harsh line as he narrowed his eyes at you, “I can’t just slow down. And I can’t just leave Miles with everything, he’s still young, and he’s still learning. This is who I am.”
“You were young once too and there was no one around to help,” you reminded him, “and you were okay. He has you and he’s a smart kid; there are things he can handle. I’m not saying that you can’t or shouldn’t be Spider-Man, Pete. I would never say that.”
“Then why are you saying anything?” he stared at the ceiling for a moment before groaning lightly, “you don’t know what it’s like. You don’t get that I can’t just walk away from this.”
“You’re right,” you’d pulled back slightly from the harsh tone in his voice; he’d never talked to you in such a harsh tone before, “I don’t know what it's like. But I do know what it’s like to love you and I know how hard it is to watch you work yourself into the ground - it’s absolutely horrible. It’s just…we’re not getting younger, Pete. We’ve talked about getting married and starting our family - how are we going to do that when you’re gone so often and hurt?”
“You don’t…” he ran his hands over his tired face in exasperation, “I don’t think you realize what you’re asking for. I’m fine. If it’s just because you don’t want to deal with me anymore, just say it.”
“That’s not what I’m saying at all,” you angrily swiped away the tears that rolled down your cheeks, “I love you, Peter. I want a future with you, but I can’t have that if you’re not around for it! Maybe it’s still hard for you to accept that people care about you and only want the best for you. You take care of everyone else, but you have to let people take care of you too.”
“If I needed someone to take care of me, I would say something,” he hissed softly, “I’m fine, everything is fine. If you’ve got such a problem with it then maybe…maybe we shouldn’t be together then.”
Your mouth dropped open from the sheer shock of what he had just said. Something was going on with Peter, even if he wasn’t willing to admit to it. You gnawed on your cheek in order to keep from crying or making any sort of sound. You held up your hands in defeat and walked into the bedroom. Without even thinking about it, you went to the closet and grabbed out a duffle bag and started piling in some clothes, not paying attention to what was getting thrown into the bag. 
“I think I’m going to leave and give you space for a bit. We’re not going to figure anything out right now,” you whispered in a broken tone. Peter’s stomach lurched as he watched you pack; how did things escalate so quickly? He wanted to take it all back; he wished he would rewind the last half hour. 
“Don’t go,” he tried to stop you gently but you shook your head, “honey.”
“I don’t want to fight,” your voice was so gentle that he might not even have heard it if it was not for his enhanced senses. Peter sat down on the edge of the bed and watched you pack, feeling helpless and pathetic. He shouldn’t ever have talked to you that way. He was stupid. Stupid.
“Where are you going to go?”
“I don’t know,” you admitted, “I’ll see if I can stay with MJ or Harry or something. Don’t worry about it, Peter. It's fine."
He fell into silence as he watched you pack your necessities without any rhyme or reason. You really just wanted to get out of there and away from him; that killed him.
Once your bag was packed, you paused in the doorway and turned to give him one last look. The corner of your mouth pulled up into a sad little smile, but the light never reached your eyes. He gave you a small nod but neither of you said anything. 
He listened to your footsteps as you left the house and got into your car. Peter had really fucked up now.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“You wanna tell me why your girlfriend’s been staying with MJ for the past couple of days?” Miles turned his face away and busied himself with fiddling on the sleeve of his suit. He’d noticed that Peter had been in a mood lately and then he saw you at MJ’s when he went to pick something up from her. Miles was a smart kid and it wasn’t long before he put the pieces together. He was just curious - and concerned - about Peter. He’d never seen him down like this before and he hated it, “j-just curious.”
“Miles,” he yanked the mask off his face and leaned against the door. The two of them were on a random rooftop, keeping an eye on things despite the quiet night. He turned to face the younger man and Miles could see how tired and run down he looked, “it’s…been a lot.”
“You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to, but you can talk to me Pete,” he nudged his arm and offered him a meek smile. Peter had been there for him for so long and through so many hard times he wanted him to know that he was there for him as well, “but if you ever need someone to talk to…”
“Thanks Miles,” he reached over and gave the boy’s shoulder a squeeze, “I don’t want you to worry about me.”
“Pete,” Miles hopped onto his feet and crossed his arms over his chest, "I'm going to worry even if you say not to."
"You're a good kid," he offered his protégé a half smile.
"I'm not a kid anymore," Miles huffed in response, "and you're getting old."
He half expected a laugh to come from the older man; instead all he heard was a small huff seemingly in agreement. Peter paused for a moment before meeting Miles' eyes, "that's the problem, isn’t it?”
"Whaddaya mean?" all sorts of bad thoughts crossed his mind. What if Peter was sick? Or something bad happened? What if-
"I know I'm getting older and things are different than they used to be," he leaned his back against the wall before whispering your name, "she brought it up the other day - that I'm not getting any younger and that I should…let go a little bit. I didn't take it well and we got into an argument and I said dumb things I shouldn't have."
"She's not wrong," Miles sat down in front of Peter and shrugged, "I mean it, its the same for me too. She just wants you around more, Pete. She’s put up with your ass for so long now. Have you apologized for what happened?"
 "No," he grimaced, "I haven't. I don't know what to say. I mean, I basically told her we should break up. I didn't mean it."
"Of course you didn't," he snored in amusement, "you're disgustingly in love."
Peter smiled at that; it was true after all. You were the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life, he wanted everything with you, "I just don't know what to say. Or even if she'd want to listen. Maybe she's done with me."
"You're so stupid," Miles scoffed as Peter couldn't help the bark of laughter that escaped him, "she's not breaking up with you. She's just waiting for you to get your head out of your ass."
"Yeah?" Peter wanted to believe Miles was right, desperately so, because he couldn't imagine a life without you. That was not a life he wanted in any way.
"Parker," the younger spider stood back up and pulled the mask over his face, "get up and let's move. You're getting too pathetic for me."
"Yeah, yeah," he watched as Miles jumped off the roof, moving to follow suit. His body was more tired and stiff today; it was like everything you had lovingly pointed out was slowly coming to light. Peter sighed softly at the thought before concealing his identity again. 
He followed after Miles, a million thoughts swirling in his mind. At the end of it all, they all came back to you.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
"You've been moping around for days now," MJ wasn't wrong. You'd shown up at her apartment in the late night hours after your fight with Peter and she'd welcomed you without hesitation. Although only small details of what happened had come to light, Mary Jane Watson was a smart woman and had more or less put the pieces together, "are you either going to tell me the whole story or just continue being sad?"
"Shut up," you groaned playfully, throwing the big couch blanket over your face, "its nothing."
"I know you, and Pete, and you're both terrible liars," MJ pulled the blanket away, a knowing little look on her face. You pulled your knees up to your chest and rested your chin on top of them before letting out a sound somewhere between a groan and a sigh, “c’mon. What’s wrong?”
“Pete and I had a fight and it got a little heated,” you confessed, “he came home hurt and I was upset and it just…turned out all wrong. I told him that I hated seeing him hurt and that I thought maybe he should consider slowing down his…duties a little bit. He didn’t take it well.”
“I’m sure it was just the moment,” she always had this calming aura around her and you already felt a tiny bit better, “it’s not like Pete to argue or…be mean.”
“I know,” you could count the number of times the two of you had what you would consider an actual argument on one hand, “I think it just went a little far and I’d thought it was best to give him some distance. He…umm, and I know he didn’t mean it but he said that if I wasn’t okay with him being Spider-Man then maybe we should break up.”
“He actually said that?” her brow furrowed as you nodded meekly, “that’s not like him…but you know he didn’t mean it.”
“I know,” you sure hoped it was true anyway, “it’s just because I care about him, you know? We’ve talked about maybe starting to grow our family and I just wonder how he’s going to handle everything he normally does on top of having a baby. Plus, I hate seeing him get hurt and so exhausted all the time. I don’t want to take anything away from him, I just want him. I want him home and safe and cared for. And I hate the idea that he thinks I’d ever want him to stop being Spider-Man.”
“If he has any sense he’ll know that,” the redhead promised, “it might just take a minute for him to catch up. He is a man after all.”
At that you laughed, a full and true laugh that you hadn’t experienced in what felt like ever. You’d give Peter his space, but you hoped that at the end of the day he would come home to you, or rather, you would go home to him. 
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
You almost jumped out of your seat at the kitchen table when you heard the loud and heavy knocking at the door. Scrambling out of the chair you darted to the door and peeked into the hallway to see who was at the door. To your surprise, you found a very anxious Peter Parker standing there. Your heart skipped a few beats as you hesitated on whether or not to open the door.
“I know you’re there,” he said softly, “I can hear your heartbeat.”
"What are you doing here, Peter?" You kept the mostly shut, leaving just enough room for you to poke your head out. It had been almost a week since you'd seen him and he didn't look much better than when you'd left. Your expression softened, any residual anger melting away. You could never stay mad at him.
"I wanted to talk to you," he almost choked on his words as he allowed himself to steal a peek at you, "and I want you to come home."
Home. The house that was one May Parker's was now his - yours. Together you had taken the good old memories and made even more of your own. You loved it there, and you loved it even more with Peter. 
“I think we should talk before we make any decisions,” part of you wanted to jump into his arms and squeeze the life out of him and kiss him and everything, but you didn’t. Instead you opened the door a little wider and motioned for him to come inside; MJ was out but you figured she wouldn’t care.
“I love you,” he blurted out before he even stepped inside, his cheeks turning a subtle shade of pink. Your mouth opened in surprise but you couldn’t deny the fact that it warmed your heart. There were still bits and pieces of the boy you’d fallen in love with so many times under there. 
“I love you too, Pete,” you motioned for him to follow you as you walked into the living room, taking a seat on the couch across from him. He sat down slowly, hesitantly, trying to get a read on you. But you had your best poker face on and weren’t showing your cards in the slightest, “you know that no matter what, I’ll always love you.”
His shoulders shagged with relief at your revelation; not that he had really doubted that but sometimes reassurance was needed. He nervously played with his hands, trying to gather his words; he had so much to say but wasn’t sure if he could manage to get it all out. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, and you reached over to give his hands a small squeeze. 
“It’s okay,” you whispered, “just talk to me.”
“I’m sorry for how I acted that night,” he whispered, “I shouldn’t have talked to you like that. I didn’t mean it when I said I thought that maybe we should break up. I don’t want to break up - I want you.”
“I hope you know that I never want anything but the very best for you,” he closed his eyes and nodded gently. Of course he knew that, you’d never given any reason to doubt that, “I never wanted to upset you, Pete.”
“I know,” he swallowed, a thick lump welling up in his throat, “I’ve always known that. It’s just that…I don’t know if I can just slow down and leave Spider-Man behind.”
“Peter,” you moved closer to him, your voice so soft and gentle that it almost made him cry, “slowing down doesn’t mean you’re leaving Spider-Man behind. You’re always going to be Spider-Man, nothing is going to change that. But it’s okay to let go a little and trust that Miles will be there for the city. And maybe some else in the future, maybe a whole gang of spiders. But you’ve been doing this for a long time, Peter. You deserve to rest too, you know.”
He looked up at you, teary-eyed and you couldn’t help but wrap your arms around him, hugging onto him tightly; had the hug been reversed he would have probably crushed you but you wanted him to know how much you loved him, “I’m sorry.”
He melted into your arms, nuzzling his face into your neck, his breathing growing ragged. You rubbed his back soothingly, murmuring sweet nothings into his ear. His tears soaked into the cotton of your shirt but it didn’t matter at all to you -  all you wanted was for him to know he was loved and safe. 
After a while of holding him you pulled yourself out of his tight grasp and took his face in your hands, brushing away the drying tears on his face, “hey, it’s alright. I’ve got you. I’m not forcing you to do anything, I’m just giving you my opinion of what I’m seeing. Ultimately, it’s up to you, Pete. But you have to take care of yourself too. Will you at least try that? If not for you, I’ll be selfish and ask you to do it for me.”
“I will,” he turned his face so he could place a kiss into the palm of your hand, “I do want to marry you a-and start our family. Like we’ve always talked about.”
The way your eyes lit up was enough to indicate to him that whatever decisions he made or steps he took to make that future a reality would be worth it. You were worth it. You leaned in and kissed him tenderly, “yeah?”
“Yeah,” he promised, “I think you’re right about what you said and I think deep down I’ve known it too. It’s just so hard to admit it in a way.”
“It’s not saying goodbye,” you reminded him, “it’s just slowing down a little bit and taking moments for yourself.”
“I’ll work on it,” he decided it was a vow that he was going to keep it, “but if I’m ever an idiot, just remind me that I’m an idiot.”
“I have no problem with that,” you grinned excitedly, “my sweet Spider.”
“And I’m sorry,” he ran his hands up and down your sides, squeezing them gently, “really. For the things I said and how I acted. I shouldn’t have lashed out like that at you.”
“Apology accepted,” you took his hands in yours and held them tightly in turn, “thank you.”
“Will you come home?” he was nervous to ask but all he wanted was for you to be back home with him; it felt so strange and foreign without, “I-I understand if you don’t want right now but-”
“Of course,” you cut him off with a finger to his lips, “I want to come home. Plus, I think MJ will be glad to get rid of me moping around all the time. I missed you a lot, Pete.”
“I missed you so much,” he crushed you to his chest, causing you to laugh softly, “I can’t wait to have you back. I can’t wait to spend the rest of our lives together.”
“Me too, Pete,” you burrowed yourself into his warm body as much as you could. You were already home. Peter would always be your home, “I love you, Spidey. My Spidey."
That made him beam brighter than the sun, “I love you too, honey.”
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 3 months
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What about Peter having a crush on reader but he can never properly talk to her, until reader gets saved by spider man like twice and in the third time she kisses him and Peter's all happy and excited at first until he realises she only like spiderman not Peter Parker and he's all sad and he visits her place as spidey and they talk and he tries kiss her and she's like no it was a mistake and I didn't mean it and I already like this other guy and he's like who??? And she's like oh this boy with me at school and Peter being Peter apologises and decides to help her ask the boy out while being a the sweet sad puppy he is and the next day he's all mopey at school and avoids reader until she corners and asks him out and he's like omg she was talking about me
.....can I please have chocolate now? 🥺🥺🥺
- yours truly
a/n: okay, i hope you don’t mind, i tweaked it a little so that he doesn’t find out the truth at school but at her apartment when he visits him
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“Wait,” you pressed a palm to the hero’s chest and pushed him back slightly. He’d pulled up his mask just enough for his soft lips to be unobscured before he’d locked them with your own, “this–, uhm…” you averted your gaze and shook your head lightly as to rid yourself of the hazy sensation the taste of his kisses bloomed, “I’m sorry. I can’t do this.”
“What?” he leaned back a bit next to you on your bed.
“It’s not you, I promise, you’re so–… I mean, you’re you. Most of New York would probably kill to get to do, well, this with you. I just–, as good as that felt, it can’t happen again,” sucking in a shaky breath, you revealed, “I kinda like someone else, like really like them. So, this just–, I’m sorry… I can’t…”
As a slow, sombre exhale flowed out past his lips, “oh…” he leaned further away from you, “who–, uhm… who is it?”
“A guy at my school. We have biology together, though I’ve never actually had the courage to talk to him. Every time I try, I just chicken out at the very last second and walk away…”
“What’s his name? Maybe, I don’t know… maybe your friendly neighbourhood Spiderman could play matchmaker or something?”
Blinking back at him, you breathed, “you’d really do that? You’ve already done so much for me.” 
“It’s fine, I wanna help,” he offered you a weak smile, “I just want you to be happy. So, what’s the guy’s name?”
“Peter,” you said wistfully, “Peter Parker.”
Mouth parting slightly in surprise, he looked as if you’d just slapped him clean across his face. 
“He’s got brown hair,” you went on, “and is like probably the smartest person I’ve ever met.”
“Peter Parker?” he repeated, “y-you have a crush on m–, on him?”
“Pretty much since the day I first met him,” you sighed longingly, “I know, you must think I’m pathetic. You throw yourself into danger every day and here I am, too scared to talk to the guy I’m in love with.”
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