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gatorbites-imagines · 4 months

Note

Andrew Peter Parker x male Deadpool reader, jus headcanons

TASM Peter Parker x Deadpool male reader

Headcanons

I always love when Peter is extra spidery. Been a while since I watched the amazing spiderman movies ngl.

I imagine this takes place after Peter comes back home after the No Way Home movie, so he has a deeper understanding of just how broad and different his universe is.

He keeps being spiderman like he’s always been, but at maybe you show up as a coworker at his job, or just during the night when he’s patrolling, but soon you two are spending a lot of time together.

Seeing as Deadpool is conscious about being inside a comic or media, I have the idea that you to some degree know this too, meaning you make jokes about the multiverse, or memes that don’t exist in your universe.

You would crack jokes about Peter having gone to a different dimension too, and make comments about villains that don’t exist in your universe, which would be what really caught Peters attention.

The white and yellow voices you have are all for you flirting with peter, as peter and as spiderman, and it leads to you guys having a relationship kinda like comic spiderman and Deadpool.

In the beginning Peter isn’t really sure what to do about you, especially seeing as you kill people, but you are super friendly, affectionate, and call him your soulmate.

Youd grow on him over time, and Peter would start looking forwards to seeing you around. He would even start getting worried if you don’t show up for a bit, even though he knows you taken contracts as an assassin and a gun for hire.

Cue you guys teaming up more and more, and you killing less when he’s around. You can’t fully stop, it’s just not in your nature, but you’ll try for Peter, which he appreciates.

Patrol always ends up with you guys eating something, sitting on the edge of a building, masks pushed up over your noses as you guys talk about whatever it is you can think of. If you have scars like most versions of Deadpool, Peter would be surprised at first, but would never judge you or look down on you for having them.

It takes Peter a while to realize he’s got feelings for you, as there’s part of him that scared to lose you like he did Gwen. Sure, you could heal from an atomic explosion, but that doesn’t keep the guilt and anxious thoughts from existing.

Your always very verbal about being in love with Peter, as he’s your other half and perfect partner, in your own words. Your flirt with him, bring him gifts, ask him on dates after every patrol, or ask him for a kiss when you’ve gotten hurt even though you’re healing.

Imagine your surprise when one day, after you had gotten impaled by a lamppost or something, you have your mask tucked up over your nose. And when Peter asks if there’s anything else he can help you with, after he’s patched you up, you pucker your lips and tell him he could kiss you better.

And for once, instead of scoffing and laughing, he actually leans in and kisses you. You immediately bluescreen, eyes wide as saucers as he gives a little grin and salute before he swings off into the night.

After that you crank your advances even more, and you guys share many more kisses before anything becomes official. You’re both dancing around the subject, but there are clear sparks and feelings between you.

Peter still struggles with the fear of losing you and not being enough, and deep down you have many insecurities of your own, but at some point you guys finally become official.

That’s also the first time you get to see him without a mask, if you don’t know each other during your day life. You swoon, flopping down on the ground with an arm over your eyes and a hand on your heart, gushing about how handsome he is.

Peter leaves you completely flustered when he compliments you in return when you take your mask off, especially if you have the usual Deadpool scars. Your yellow and white voices both agree Peter was the right choice.

You guys start officially dating, and going out during the day as much as you do during the night.

You shower him in gifts, since you have a lot of money doing your gun for hire job, compared to his job of the moment. You have a much better finance than he does, since you can work whenever you want compared to him trying to work a day job and also be spiderman.

Some of his coworkers, or most honestly, think you’re weird when you stop by his workplace if he forgot his lunch, or to bring him something.

But they can also see just how smitten you guys are. They’re more likely to be jealous, since their own partners won’t look at them with as much look as you do when looking at Peter.

When you guys move in together, it’s in a brand-new apartment. Peters isn’t big enough for the both of you, and people who want you dead know your current address.

The apartment is kind of a mess, with all your different accessories, weapons, webshooters, suits, the likes, all over the place. But its perfect for you two and just what you need.

Theres just some kind of peace to be with someone who knows the others’ secret identity, and someone you don’t have to worry will get hurt because of your hero, or antihero, work.

Peter still struggles to hold a day job, since you are as scatterbrained as him, or since your own schedule is super wack, so you don’t notice if he’s late or missing work. You could easily finance the both of you, but Peter being Peter won’t accept being a freeloader in his eyes.

Sure, you still kill people for money and just because you feel like it, but it’s a lot less than you use too, and there are moments Peter needs to step in and reel you guys’ in. But it doesn’t lessen the love you guys have for each other in any way, and when things get tough, you always have one another when it matters.

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stinkysam · 5 months

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Peter Parker - All about the angle.

Warning : none

Genre : fluff

Synopsis : “tasm Peter parker x male reader, just the two being love sick idiots and everyone around them sees it and just thinks those two are going to be together forever. 🩷” - anon

Reader : male (he/you)

“I love you.” You said quietly, kissing Peter's lips. He smiled, looking at you with adoration in his eyes and wrapped his arms around you.

“I love you too.” He kissed you again and again as you giggled, happy.

“I have to go.” You said. “My father is waiting for me in the car.”

“Okay.” He said, kissing you one last time before letting you go. “I love you.” He repeated and you whispered it back to him before quickly walking toward your father's car.

“So, how long have you two been together ?” Gwen asked, looking at Peter with big interested eyes.

“Huh ?” He jumped, he hadn't heard her arrive, too focused on you leaving.

“You and [Name].” She laughed. “Since when are you dating him ?”

“Uh.” He brought his right hand to his lips, chewing lightly on his thumb. “We're not… We're- We're not dating.” He said with a nervous chuckle.

“Oh, come on. I've seen the way you look at each other. Like he's some angel coming down from heaven. Don't worry he looks at you the same.”

“W- what ? We don't…” He shook his head. “He's just a friend.”

Gwen raised an eyebrow, clearly amused.

“Do you kiss all your friends on the lips like that ?”

Peter, panicking, continued to laugh nervously.

“We didn't- We just- You saw wrong, it was the angle. It looked like we were kissing but we weren't.”

“Oooh…” She nodded. “That's weird because a lot of angles do that with you two.”

“Ahah… Oh yeah ? Weird. Huh… that's- he's part French. They kiss each other for greetings, he likes… to do that…”

“Oh yeah ? On the lips ?”

“Cheeks ! On the cheeks. It was on the cheeks.”

“Damned angles that made it look like you're kissing him on the lips, am I right ?”

“Yeah, tell me about it.” He frowned with a laugh, throwing back his bag on his shoulders.

“It's cute. You two, I mean. A bit too down bad for each other though, but still.” She said more quietly.

“Ahah yeah we're not- we're still not dating.”

“Oh yeah, right, sorry, my bad. I meant, whatever french thing you two have together.”

“There's no… French thing. Just… friends.” He smiled awkwardly.

“Right, right. Like those friends that end up living together for years. Historians say they were just friends.”

“Gwen…” He shook his head. “There's really nothing.” He laughed. “But I'm starting to believe you want us to be a thing.”

“If you're not a thing already, which I highly doubt with the suspicious French angles, then, yes, just get together already.” She nodded with a smile as Peter sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“We aren't, Gwen. And we won't.” He said, leaving. “Bye !”

“Maybe next time don't kiss in public ! And don't make me take pictures of you two !” She yelled, watching him disappear.

You entered your house and went to your room, planning to finish the book you had started a few days ago. Only for Peter to barge in through the window.

“She knows !” He whispers-yelled, looking at you with big eyes.

“Hi again.” You chuckled. “Who knows what, babe ?” You said, eyes still on your book as you yawned.

“Gwen, about us.”

You immediately closed your mouth, looking at him. You quickly stood up, throwing your book on the bed.

“How does she know ? Did you tell her ?”

“No !” He almost looked offended by your question. “Why would I come here if I did ?”

“Is she spying on us ?” You asked, looking out the window before closing the curtains.

“She saw us kiss. Several times.” He said and you scoffed.

“Wh- what ? Us kissing ? Ah ! Ahah !” You began to laugh

“She's not here.”

“I know I was practicing. Was it good ?”

“You're part French.”

“I'm part what !?”

“It was really good, a bit less disgust in your voice, maybe.”

“I swear to God if I have to raise my grades in French, Peter, you're dead.”

#male reader #m!reader #tasm #tasm x male reader #tasm imagine #the amazing spiderman #the amazing spiderman imagine #the amazing spiderman x male reader #peter parker x male reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker #peter parker x reader

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clarks-letterman · 1 year

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it’s always the boyfriend | peter parker x male reader

a/n — i needed to write this omfg gahhh i meant to post this on halloween

summary — Peter devises the perfect plan to spice up sex just in time for the colder season.

warnings — smut 18+! mask kink, some light degrading and knife play

words — 2.4k

~~~

When Peter asked you to meet at his house around seven for another tender movie night spent in the vulnerability of his room, you expected him to be on time. Now, you tapped your foot in time with the kernels popping in the microwave. The kitchen was quiet save for the sizzling and eventual pop of each seed. At any second, the billowing brown bag would burst. You took it out before it could and set it on the brown counter by the knife rack to cool.

Faintly, in the moonlight, came a thud on the roof, and then the phone rang. You brushed off the first noise and turned to the phone on the wall. It was a landline—black and spiral-corded, rattling to the point where it would have slipped off if you were not there to catch it. There was a low chance that it could have been Peter calling to tell you about his latest Spider-Man kerfuffle, how it made him late and that he was endlessly sorry for keeping you waiting. You placed the speaker to your ear, taking the greater chance that it was a telemarketer or something else. "Parker residence."

A strange voice, rasped and warped, spoke a single word over the line, "Hello?"

It was a blatant attempt to signal that whoever he was trying to reach was probably off doing something better than waiting around by the phone all day. Of course, you were the exception, waiting for a buzz to come from the phone in your pocket or the now-occupied landline.

"Why would you be home alone on Saturday night?"

The question struck you as an odd retort to your own aversion to the stranger, but you evaded his question with a question of your own, "Why would you call someone on a Saturday night?"

"I call when I feel like having some fun."

"This is fun?" You asked. A new idea started forming in your head, an idea that was a lot less fun than this guy suggested. Maybe this was about Peter's crime-fighting, slowly bleeding into a surreal nightmare—his next spandexed villain finally targeting the thing he cared about the most: you.

"Sure it is! We're about to get to my favorite part. It's almost like a movie."

"Really? What happens next?" You pried and turned to peer past the tilted blinds and recessed windows that left you exposed to the dark, looking for light. The light cast from the kitchen spanned a few inches out into the darkness, letting you see the plant life sway in the breeze and not much else. Your eyes darted upward, praying the windows themselves were, at the very least, locked.

"I would never spoil it. You know me better than that."

"Do I know who you are?" You fired at him, praying that he was some Joe Schmoe who worked for a landscaping company and not some evil supervillain.

"I don't know who you are."

Your panic ceased, your thumping heart slowing its tempo back to the pace of the night you expected to have. He had no idea who you were, so you grew softer, more vulnerable, "You sure you want to? I don't even think my boyfriend likes knowing who I am."

"See? We're learning so much about each other already! Let's play a game. You asked the first question, so I'll go next. What's your boyfriend's name?"

"Peter."

"Peter." He repeated satisfactorily. "I bet you love to moan his name."

You were ready to tear the phone from the wall; if only that were the way to hurt this prank-caller. Instead, you readied to lay the phone on its side after ending the call, "Look, whoever this is, it's been fun. But this is obviously a prank. Go do something with your life, Flash, or whoever you are."

Turning away from it, you heard the phone ring again. Surely that guy couldn't be dense, could he? He had to have known the effects of what he said, and you concluded that it was deliberate. Purposefully, you let it ring until it ran out of motivation to pull your attention.

You planned to shoot a text to Peter, but just as you fished out your phone from your pocket. . .

"Stop calling."

"You hung up on me."

"I had a good reason to. What do you want?"

You were already rounding the house as he took his sweet time answering your question. The front door was still locked from when you initially came over, but the long strip of glass embedded in the door seemed like a vulnerability you didn't have time to fix. If the man on the phone were to break the glass, at least it would be impossible not to draw attention to the noise.

"To finish our game. You asked your second question, so I'll ask mine. Do you watch movies with Peter?"

"Sometimes, why?"

"Because I want to know, what's your favorite scary movie?"

"The one where the creep on the phone dies."

"That's harsh. I'm just biding time."

"For what?"

"The next scene. When the creep on the phone arrives."

There was a knock above you, closer this time, on the second floor instead of the roof. It came from Peter's room; you were sure of it. His bedframe was never the quietest, so you had to get creative with not disturbing anyone in your position. That's how you knew which rooms were above the ones on the ground floor, but it proved too difficult. Eventually, Peter settled on using the ceiling for your more intimate times. Now, you used it to your advantage and bolted up the stairs with the intent of trapping or attacking the intruder, though you weren't sure how. The final step on the set of stairs harshly whined when you reached it.

Loose clothing and stacks of books occupied the space between his messily made twin bed, disorganized desk, and the small, overstuffed bookshelf by the window. Amid all the clutter, you had an eye for the missing things; Peter's backpack, phone, and a few gadgets from his desk—all missing, but none stolen. There was a camera propped on three metal legs to get an angle of his bed. That wasn't there before, so you trusted your suspicion that Peter was responsible for all of this.

"Nice try, asshole. I'm not looking outside for you to get me."

"Who said I was outside?"

Reluctantly, you approached the open window, stepping over anything covering the hardwood floor, and ignored the camera, speaking to the breeze, "Come on, Peter. Just come in and apologize for being late."

The man on the phone refused to let up his game, "This isn't Peter."

Yet, you were ready to give up and leave. "Yeah? And I'm not waiting anymore. Get in, or I'm getting out."

"You don't want to do that! I'm already in the house. If you leave, you won't make it far."

He spoke to no one as you dropped the phone from your ear and hung up, turning to face the doorway. Your stomach dropped, as did the phone in your hand. A figure dressed in all black blocked the entrance. The only other color present on him was the white of his mask, pulled into a long face of anguish. He looked ready to scream—possibly a battle cry, the preparation for a charge toward you with the silvery steel knife in his right hand angled precisely to hit only your most vital arteries. At least, that was what you expected him to do. But he raised his left hand, revealing the tattered ends of his loose robe and drawing attention to the white box receiver he held. It met his long mouth, and the same modulated voice came through.

"Next question. Do you trust me?" His cotton-gloved finger lifted off the trigger, and the pinprick of red light on the modulator disappeared. He kept it to his mouth, waiting for a response. The only noise filling the silent room was the soft collision of his breath to the inside of the mask. You nodded.

"Good. Wouldn't want to make this a horror," he taunted.

"This was your idea of movie night?" You didn't bother to wait for a response, proposing your next question less than a second later, "What kind of movie are we making, Pete?"

The figure dropped his voice modulator to the floor, freeing his hand to reach for a part of the robe at his stomach—the waistband, you guessed. He used the other that carried a knife to motion to the bed. You followed its direction, crawling onto his bed and treating the man as if he were Peter looming behind you, keeping yourself on all fours. The already messy comforter became even more ruined upon first contact, creasing where your elbows and knees held your weight. In a swift moment, you felt the bed shift, Peter's cheap springboard creaking expectedly. You looked back to see the ghost-like man on both knees. His gloves were gone, and the bottom half of his robe was missing, too.

In fact, you noted that his underwear was absent from his body as well, and he passed the favor to you. His hands tore the fabric of your pants and underwear in a way that only Peter could replicate. Everything told you this was him, down to the contour of his thighs and abdomen, but you winced at the brief thought that it wasn't. Or maybe, it was the hard press against your ass that caused the feeling. An abruptly tepid heat burned against your bare skin, and the cold breeze crept where his touch couldn't cover.

It was intimate and you were exposed, but that didn't take away from the fact that he tooled around with the knife in his hand. With deliberate slowness, the marble-like blade scraped up your thigh and rounded one of your fleecy mounds. One cut of the thread and you would come undone, vulnerable, and reliant on the stranger's intent to keep you unharmed. The heavy breathing emitting from behind the mask was the only noise that filled the room and a constant reminder of your possible demise.

His entry was fast but still painfully much more noticeable. The stranger was smooth—no foreskin from what you could tell of it—the rest, indiscernible. It took a good minute before he finally bottomed out, leaving a pit in your stomach at how stretching he was. He had to have been as long as he was wide, hitting all the right places while widening your hole and its tight entrance.

His hips started to swing back and forth in either direction, taking everything with him and pushing himself back in with a loud smack.

The stranger's continuous rut into one end of you urged moans from the other. You struggled to form words, to perform for the camera looking over your exposed body.

"Say it for the camera, babe." The Ghost let out, his hand holding the knife creeping toward your neck to give you a reason to say it.

"Fuck me, please, Mr.Ghostface."

Without any warning, he did the opposite and pulled out of you, and you felt hollow without him.

Then, suddenly, his arms were wrapped around you and twisted you on your back with the impossible strength you knew of all too well. He fetched the camera and returned to his pace, pumping himself inside you. He made sure to keep the action in frame, neither of your heads visible in the shot, only your body and the lower half of his torso as he rocked his hips back and forth so that it would appear as if the viewer was taking your place. Usually, Peter was one for capturing the most intense moment in vivid detail on his digital camera, but he knew that the sound alone would be enough.

You slipped your hand around the rounded end of the mask and pulled. Slowly, the black drape came around his head to reveal tufts of messy, dusky brown hair. The cloth fell into the concave mold of the mask and spilled out to the floor when you threw it.

There was Peter in only a thin veil of dark, tattered ends. His chocolate-brown eyes locked to yours as you stared up at him. His face creased with buried eyebrows and an agape mouth, elation taking form as he struggled to contain his inner feelings. His muffled moans became audible grunts, short awes, and conventions of disbelief slipping under his breath.

You watched his eyes melt at the peak of his travel, his mind spinning around stars in the night. He came, spilling hot white inside you that he was sure had seeped onto his sheets next to your own load. The bed stopped creaking. His arms gave in, and he collapsed on top of you with a few final thrusts coaxing out whatever remained.

You composedly spoke between Peter's deep breaths, "I should've known. It's always the boyfriend."

"Or the best friend," he heaved.

"Or the bitter ex," you retorted.

Peter rolled off you and onto his side, almost failing to stay on his tiny twin bed as he propped an elbow up for support, "Ouch. Are you saying you would break up with me?"

"After a stunt like that? Never," you admitted. The urge to fall into his arms and spend the rest of the night exactly like that tempted you, but the continual red pulse coming from Peter's camera lured you away from him. You managed to escape from your position on the bed and went to retrieve the tape in the camera, teasing Peter along the way, "Let's see if we just made a new hit. . ."

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weyirn · 2 years

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I’m the anon who sent the Spider-Man/Cosplayer request, I meant Tom Holland but all 3 would be great so can you do that instead lmao? 😭

yes LOL-

Okay this is like my first preference in a long time so forgive me if I'm a little rusty-

Spidermen x Male!Reader

Marvel Prefrences: They React To You Being A Cosplayer

----------------------------------

Peter thinks it's so cool, and gets exicted especially if it's from a specific TV show/movie/videogame that he loves. When it comes to making the cosplays, he'll definitely help you on making them very detailed. He might not dress up with you (from probably being too embarrassed to do so) but he loves seeing you happy in doing what you love.

(Omg but please don't let him add any 'special effects' aka gadgets and stuff to your outfits 'cause he might do it-)

He would definitely love to dress up with you, and offers to take you to conventions where to two of you can go together. Peter would bring you some supplies so you can work on your cosplays together.

He finds it rather amusing, but he also appreciates that he sees you doing what you enjoy. Sometimes, he'll tease you about it, especially when he would see any kind of merch (besides the cosplay) that he sees from your favorite TV show/movie/videogame.

#marvel preferences #male reader #x male reader #peter parker x male reader #peter x male reader #marvel x male reader #marvel x reader #peter x reader #tasm x reader #tasm x male reader #spidermen preferences #spiderman x male reader #spiderman x reader

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l1tw1ck · 11 months

Text

Because of a Party

bottom!ftm!tasm!Peter Parker x top!masc reader

🕷️ Word Count: 1,843 🕷️

↳ [REQUEST] | [No AFAB Language Version]

CW: Dub-Con (Dry Humping), Drunkenness, Blowjob, Cunnilingus, Squirting, Biting, Marking

Peter and Gwen have been friends for a few years and most people think Peter’s in love with her. But in reality, he's in love with you. You don't talk to him much, you have your own group of friends and he's a year older so you never even considered becoming his friend. Peter's been content with just watching you from afar since he’s convinced he has no chance with you. He figured nothing would happen and you’d just be an old crush in a few years.

All that changed when Gwen heard you were going to a party. She asked if Peter could come with you because he spends all his time studying and working. You figured you should get along better with who you think is going to be your sister’s future boyfriend so you agreed.

Now you're at your friend’s house and Peter drank way too much in an attempt to ease up and enjoy the party. You didn't know until it was too late and at this point you're too drunk to bring him home so you ask your friend for help. He gives you the key to one of the guest bedrooms so he can sober up.

You drop Peter onto the bed and sit down next to him. He shimmies out of his uncomfortable jeans, leaving him in just his underwear. Peter mumbles your name and pulls you onto your back to make you lie down with him. You turn your body to look at him, your faces too close together for both of your comforts. You look into his eyes and wait for him to speak but instead of talking, he goes in for a kiss. You’re not sure why, but you actually reciprocate the kiss. Peter has no idea what he's doing but you can't tell, and even if you could you're too drunk to care. He pulls your pants down just enough to grope your bulge and get you hard. He moves his hand away and wraps his leg around yours, adjusting himself so that his pussy is right against your boner. He starts to desperately rub his cunt against you, humping you at an unnaturally fast pace.

You pull away from the kiss. “Peter..”

“[Name]–” He gasps. “Fuck- mmh~” He throws his head back. He moves like he's never touched himself before, it's clear that he's enjoying himself. He whimpers as he feels his orgasm quickly approaching. “yes! yes!”

You let him bring himself to his completion, watching as he comes from humping you. He looks so irresistible like this. You gulp, trying to hold back all the urges you have right now.

Peter calms down and lies on his back. Before you can even speak he passes out, leaving you to take care of your boner by yourself. You sigh. At least this won't be the last time you see him.

Your family’s flying to England to visit Gwen’s new choice of college. She decided New York wasn't giving her what she needed so she applied and got a full scholarship. She’s moving in the summer but your parents wanted to help her find a new place. Your brothers wanted to come along too. You stayed back because you wanted to talk to Peter about the party. You’ve seen him a few times but you never had the chance to get him alone but now's the perfect time. It's especially perfect if that conversation leads to something more.

You invited him over under the guise of needing help with science homework, since you assume that he's forgotten all about the party.

Your original plan was to have a civil conversation but now that he's right in front of you, you don't know what to say. You bring him to your room, planning to wait for a better moment to talk about it.

“Do you remember anything that happened during the party? My memory kind of stopped at some point and I woke up with a splitting headache.”

You turn around. “You don't remember?” You ask. He shakes his head. “Anything?” You step closer to him. He shakes his head again. “You were all over me at the party.”

His eyes widen. What did he do?

You lean into his ear. “You were rubbing yourself on my cock and acting like a desperate whore. You didn't even let me come.” You chuckle at the last part.

His cheeks are even redder than before. The visual you just gave him is setting him on fire. Was he clothed? Or did he rub his bare cunt on you? The thought is driving him insane.

“You’ll make it up to me though, right?”

Peter nods. He can't even begin to describe how he feels, he might just explode.

“Get on your knees.” You order. He quickly sinks down to the floor and pulls your pants down. “That's a good boy.” You praise him. He's surprised at how much his body reacted to hearing that, he's already soaking wet. He slowly tugs on the waistband of your underwear, almost scared to see what's underneath. He looks up at you then back at your bulge before impulsively shoving your boxers down.

“shit..” He gasps. You're definitely well endowed. He holds it in his hand and gently licks the tip. He wraps his lips around your girth and slides his mouth down almost to the hilt. He moves backwards and forwards, sucking your cock feverishly. He doesn't have any experience but he's determined to make you feel good. Even though he's not experienced, it feels amazing. Just seeing him and his eagerness is enough for you. He looks adorable doing it.

“That’s right, you’re doing so well, baby.” You murmur, running your hands through his hair. Peter blushes and looks up at you, shivering when he sees your expression. He closes his eyes and speeds up his movements. He can't believe that he's in this situation. He’s dreamt and fantasized about being with you for years and now it's finally a reality. He thanks his drunken self for getting you interested in him. “Peter-” You breathe out.

He pulls away from you and jerks you off. “Mmh?” He looks up at you.

“‘M gonna come-” You warn. His eyes widen and he quickly goes back to sucking you off. He wants to swallow it. Your peak comes even faster when you realize his intentions. Peter swallows your cum happily, enjoying your taste. He pulls away and looks at you with a small smile. God he’s so cute.

You help him stand up and bring him to his bed. “Is this your first time?” You ask, taking your shirt off. Peter nods, taking his clothes off too. “I’ll be gentle.” You promise.

“You don't have to be.” He smiles. “Be as rough as you want. I can take it.” The room starts to get hotter.

“Oh yeah?” You smirk, running two fingers down his cunt before slowly pushing them inside of him. “I think you overestimate yourself.”

“I disagree.” He grabs your wrist and pushes your fingers in all the way, a soft moan leaving his lips. “I think it's the other way around.”

“Really now?” You move closer to his face. “Why don't we find out?” You angle your fingers a certain way, hitting his g spot exactly and causing him to moan. Before Peter can get another word out, you hit it again. And again, and again. You give him a break and move your face in between his legs. Your tongue against his clit runs a shiver up his spine. His eyes widen when your tongue enters him. He knew it’d feel good but not this good!

“Fuck!” He cries out. “Oh- [Name]~!” He throws his head back and lifts his hips. “Li- like that! Oh my God–”

Out of embarrassment, Peter grabs a pillow and brings it to his face. You’d like to hear him but you don't want to force anything out of him. He practically screams into the pillow. He feels like he's floating. He needs more. More. More. More! More! Yes! Peter feels his entire body react to the feeling of your tongue against his pleasure spot. Slick suddenly gushes out of him like he had a secret water gun in between his legs. He’s never had an orgasm this powerful before. He wants to feel it again.

You pull away from him and wipe your face. “You really liked that, huh?”

Peter moves the pillow away and nods. “I loved it.”

You hold your aching cock, pre cum dribbling out of it steadily. He can see how horny and desperate you are, he has a good estimate of how rough you're gonna be and he's so fucking ready.

“You don't have any plans for tomorrow, do you?” You ask, sliding a condom on.

He shakes his head quickly.

“Good. Because I don't think you’ll be able to go anywhere once I’m done with you.” You ease yourself inside him. You grab his legs and fold him in half. “Ready?”

“Fuck yes– AH~!” He moans loudly as you ram into him like there's no tomorrow. He doesn't even consider the fact that your neighbors can most definitely hear him and you're enjoying this too much to silence him. He looks down at his cunt, loving the way your cock slides in and out of it, then up at you.

“You feel so good, Peter.” You praise him in between breaths, leaning in to kiss his neck and make hickeys. He moves to expose more of his neck to you, encouraging you to continue. You stop sucking his neck and Peter can hear your heavy breathing even more clearly. He doesn't know why but he loves it.

“Bi- bite me~” He places his hand on your head and urges you to do it. It doesn't take you any convincing, you sink your teeth into his neck, almost deep enough to draw blood but not quite. He lets out a loud, breathy moan and comes. You slow down your thrusts, taking in the feeling of his pussy convulsing around you. “Hah– keep- keep going..”

You pull out, making him whine, and flip him onto his stomach. You raise his ass and slide back into him. You grip his waist and roughly fuck into him. Peter rolls his eyes back, his moans muffled by the pillow. He feels like he’s on cloud nine. He can barely think properly. You lean forward and graze your teeth against his neck. Peter’s breath hitches in response. You bite him again, his pussy squeezing you tight. You create a plethora of hickeys and bite marks all over his back, leaving the two of you with something to admire in the morning. “Gonna come..” You moan, slowing down. You thrust into him a few more times before stopping and filling up the condom with your spend.

You pull out and take off the condom, throwing it in the trash. Peter looks at you, his face flushed. “Felt so good..” He smiles.

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hellsburners · 10 months

Text

feel the rush

summary: you come home to a needy roommate pairing: peter parker x male reader word count: 1.2k warnings: 18+ warning, s3x pollen, blowj0bs, handj0bs, implied fwb a/n: i got this as a request so i hope anon liked it <3

masterlist | more peter parker

You came home to the sound of grunting. Your roommate, Peter, was hunched on your couch covered in a thick blanket shaking and groaning. He was still wearing his suit, his hair all wet and tousled. “Peter, what’s wrong?’ you inched closer. He shuddered from the sudden touch.

“‘Not feeling well,” he said.

“Are you hurt?” you touched his forehead with the back of your hand. He was having an intense fever, sweat dripping from his temples. “Jesus you’re hot.”

“Was—this pumpkin bomb the goblin used,” he said, his voice shaking and hoarse. “This weird powder came out of it.”

“I’ll make you some tea, let’s get you to the kitchen,” you tried to help him stand up but Peter refused. “What’s wrong?” he shook his head, and you pleaded to him that he needed the tea. You took his arm around your neck and pulled him up.

Peter’s body was still hunched over as he stood. He groaned from a sudden pain. Shit, he utters. You look down to where his eyes were focused on, his crotch. There was an obvious tent in his center, the fabric of his suit was wet near the tip of his cock. Peter tried to hide it with the blanket but you already saw. The two of you paused for a bit, taking in what just happened.

Oh.

“It won’t go away,” he cries.

You let him sit back on the sofa, the tent still erect. “I’ll—go get the tea.”

You came back a few minutes later with the tea, still steaming from the kettle. He blows on the cup and takes a sip. Peter winces, the tea did nothing, his temperature was still high and the thing was still a problem.

“Maybe you should get a really cold shower, that helps right?” you said. Peter sinks his head in his palms and screams into the blanket. “You know what, maybe you should undress, you know—since it looks like it's hurting down there.”

Peter stands, the blanket falling on the couch. You help him with the zipper on his nape, quickly pulling it down to expose his scarred back. He pulls on the suit to remove it from his arms, the lean muscles contracting from the movement. He loses balance for a sec, your hands going immediately to his bare shoulders for support. A soft moan leaves his lips.

“Sorry—,” he groans. You help him pull off the rest of the suit leaving him in his baby blue boxers. The front of the boxers was stained dark blue from his erection. “Can I take it off?” He gestures at the boxers.

It’s not like you haven’t seen each other naked before, there was that one time you two hooked up but it was a long time ago and under different circumstances. Peter takes off his underwear and slumps on the sofa, his leaking cock pointing north. It was throbbing and the head a bright red.

“It won’t go away,” his words dragged out.

“Have you tried to, you know, do it?”

“I tried to rub one out but nothing happened, you need to help me.”

“Help you?” your brows furrowed. He nods like a puppy, his brown eyes shining under the lights.

“Like old times.”

“That was one night,” you said.

“One amazing night,” he jokingly laughs.

You flipped him off. You braced yourself, wiping your sweaty palms on your legs. “So what should we do?” you asked.

“We could do a handjob first?” his voice was still shaking.

You placed your hand on his leaking cock, it was warm and hard under your skin. Peter rests his arm on the back of the couch, his thighs wide apart as you start to jerk him off. He closes his eyes and draws his head back, a sigh of relief leaving his mouth.

“Is that good?”

“Fuck, so good,” he moans.

You continue to slide your hand across his length, and a few beads of precum fall in your hand producing lubrication. Peter lets out a loud cry as your wet hand reaches the sensitive head of his cock.

“You can go faster,” he said. Your pace quickens, he lets out a moan, his lips glistening. You tighten the grip on his erection, especially when you reach his tip. He grips the back of your shirt. His legs tense, his face scrunches as if he were in pain. He let out a loud, fuck.

“What’s wrong?”

“It didn’t work,” he said. His face went frown. You wanted to help him, he looked like he was in so much discomfort.

“What if I give you a blow job?” you utter, your brain not even thinking of it before it left your lips.

His eyebrows raised at your suggestion. “You sure you’d want that?”

“Like you said. It’s not like it hasn’t happened before,” he laughs.

You bent down where the tip of his cock was inches away from your lips. You press your lips to the tip, you taste the saltiness in his precum. His hand on your back snakes towards your nape, to your hair. He guides your head as you engulf his hardness, the girth filling your lips.

Your saliva coats his cock making it slippery. You jerk his cock off while you suck on the tip. Peter lets out a drawn-out moan, his hands on your hair curling. Your mouth leaves his cock, you stand up. His brows raised in confusion. You knelt in between his legs, your hands kneading his muscular thighs.

Peter looks at you with amusement as you take his cock back into your mouth, both of his hands guiding your face. “Can I fuck your—” You didn’t let him finish, you assumed the position, your mouth around his cock and your hands on your lap.

He braced himself as fucked into your mouth. Using you as a means for release. He fucks into your throat with vigor as he lifts his hips from the couch. He bites his lip from the immense pleasure coursing through his body. Whatever the bomb had it amplified his senses tenfold.

Your eyes start to well from the sheer force, your hands digging into your thighs. You look up to Peter through your lashes, his eyes closed and his face in ecstasy. He lets out a bunch of praises, on how good it feels and how close he was.

You take the wheel from him, back to sucking on his cock practically worshiping it. Your tongue licking the sensitive frenulum. You hollow your cheeks and it edges Peter on more. Your hand continues to stroke him, another hand fondling his balls.

“I’m so fucking close,” he whines.

Peter’s hips started to thrust on your hand as his body started to convulse. He yells out as thick cum shoots at your face and your tongue, the warm liquid was bitter on your taste buds. You gulped, he was still riding his high, his face all red and his chest heaving.

You two pause for a second, breathing hard from the intense exercise. Peter pulls you in for a kiss, he could taste his pleasure in your mouth. You moan as he takes you into his lap, his hands crawling under your shirt.

“Your turn.”

comments/ reblogs/ tags are greatly appreciated btw if u liked this fic and want more send me a prompt and i'd gladly make something from it :>

#peter parker smut #peter parker x reader smut #peter parker x male reader smut #the amazing spiderman #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker x male reader #tasm!peter parker x male reader smut

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mlm-writer · 10 months

Text

One of a Kind Booty (Peter Parker x M!Reader)

Pairing: Power bottom Peter Parker (TASM) x Top Cis Male Reader Rating: Explicit Words: 2225 POV: Second Summary: You’ve been staring at Peter Parker’s ass a lot. One night you catch sight of Spiderman’s ass and suddenly you know something about Peter Parker that most people do not. Aka reader finds out Peter Parker is Spiderman based on his ass. Note: Don’t forget to reblog and/or leave a comment in the tags/replies to help me stay motivated to write, thank you Tags: pervert!reader, teaching assistant Peter, wee bit of comedy, mentioned OC Chaz the jock, blowjob, handjob, ass-eating/anilingus, reverse cowgirl, creampie and mild ass worship

There was something about being a teacher that made one bend over a table, ass out, while explaining something. This trait apparently extended to teaching assistants and you knew exactly who was the biggest idiot in your class. You always sat behind Chaz, the nicest jock you knew, but who also retained a negative amount of information from lectures. How he got this far was one of Earth’s greatest mysteries.

Some days you felt bad for him, but during the study sessions, you loved his big dumb brain. The second it started, his hand was up in the air and the cute teaching assistant surely trudged over. Just one year older than you and yet Peter Parker looked younger with his boyish looks and nerdy tees. He bent over in front of you and you tried to not make it too obvious you were staring. The things you’d like to do to that booty were not fit for a classroom, unless this was a tacky fanfic where the mechanics of the real world did not matter.

Exams were coming up, so you found yourself staring less at Peter’s ass and more being the one asking the questions. One late night, you found yourself lounged on the rooftop of your apartment building. Your phone with your notes app lit up your face as you sipped on a drink. Whenever you needed to think, your eyes drifted up over the screen to look at the breathtaking city night view. Studying sucked, but this view always made it better.

Your peace and quiet got disturbed by a red figure landing on the other side of the rooftop. You hid behind the staircase building as soon as you could. You were no rookie to the dangers of the night, but as you peeked around the corner, you let go of the breath you’ve been holding. It was just Spiderman.

He didn’t seem to notice you as you stared at him from behind him, watching how he crouched down and used your apartment building as a little perch. There was something familiar about him. Your heart lurched when he got off the ledge. For a second you thought he spotted you, but then he started stretching. Arms up to the sky, you could see his shoulder muscles through his suit. Arms to the front, to the back. Then he bent forward, hugging his legs with straight knees and you knew exactly why he looked so familiar. You have been staring at that ass all semester.

Your mouth fell open as you tried to process this new revelation and contemplated what you were going to do with it. Right now, there was little you could do with this information. Before you could even emerge from your hiding spot, Spiderman already leaped from your rooftop to fight crime or whatever Spiderman did on a quiet night.

It was the last study session before the final exam and you should be focusing on straightening out the purpose of each equation, but you were staring holes in Peter’s everything. You knew with 99.99% certainty that he had a crime-fighting alter ego, but it was that 0.01% that was keeping you from confronting him about it directly.

Before you realised it, class was over and you were bound to either spend a couple of all-nighters or fail the exam. You packed your bag with utmost leisure, attempting to be the last one left with Peter, who was saying his goodbyes to the professor. The old woman left and it was just you and Spiderman.

“You do know that I know what you’ve been up to, right?” Your head shot up and you frowned at the teaching assistant. That was your line. Peter gave you a lopsided smile as he sauntered over to you. “Don’t look so innocent, I know you’re not.” Peter sat down on the table in front of you.

You slowly zipped your backpack up with a frown on your face, eyes never leaving those of the other man. “Are you seriously making a move on me the second you’re no longer a teaching assistant of a course I am taking?” You scoffed. Peter got a little rosey in the cheeks, but he did shrug like he had no regrets. Your teeth showed with how wide your smile got. “Such a morally good man,” you said as you slowly got closer to Peter, “not only does he have a no-fucking-the-students policy,” you leaned on the table he sat on so your faces were real close, “he also runs around in a tight red suit stopping crime.”

Your last words wiped the smile off Peter’s face. He tried to stammer out he had no idea what you were talking about, but he either was bad at lying or just too distracted by you. You ran a hand up his arm, trying to gauge if he was into it or not. “How did you know?” He eventually whispered.

You snickered as you grabbed his shoulder and pulled him closer so you could whisper in his ear. “Spiderman was on my rooftop a few nights ago and bent over. We both know I’ve had my eyes on the prize all semester.”

Peter bursted out in laughter. “Are you serious right now? You figured it out by staring at my ass?” You gave him an innocent shrug, clearly very unapologetic about the situation. “Wow… Just wow… You are really shameless, you know that?” You held up your hands, palms to the sky beside your shoulders.

“What can I say, Mr Parker? Your ass is phenomenal.” “Would you like to see what I can do with it?”

And it was not even ten minutes later that you found yourself in Peter’s tiny dorm room, pressed against the wall as he kissed the life out of you. His leg was between yours and you felt almost pathetic with how needily you grinded against him. “Never thought you’d be this… assertive,” you gasped when Peter finally let you breathe, his lips occupied with your neck.

“Don’t like it?” The other man asked as he guided your hands to his ass, humming when you squeezed his exquisite cushions. You were drunk on him. A semester of pining had you tangled in a web of desire and Peter was about to thoroughly unravel you.

When you did not answer right away, Peter pulled away to check on you, his eyes questioning and hands politely stilling. “I just did not expect you to be like this, but by all means, go ahead.” You flashed him a smile, which he returned in kind. Without breaking eye contact, he got to his knees and started undoing your pants. You watched him with bated breath.

You were not surprised that you were already supporting a semi nor that Peter started lapping at your cock like it was a treat. By now you already knew that behind those innocent eyes hid a true minx. Wet pleasure glided over your cock. You could not tear your eyes away from him. Once he had you fully hard, he started trying to take your whole length into his mouth. There was no warning, no lead up to the immense pleasure that was Peter eagerly slobbering all over your dick. A moan escaped you, before you could even think of biting your lips to hold it back. “In a hurry?” You questioned between moans.

Peter did not answer. Instead he grabbed two handfuls of your thighs and pushed you forward, forcing your whole cock down his throat. His tongue was out and teasing your balls. You threw your head back, finally diverting your eyes off him, but as soon as you did that glorious mouth was off you. You gasped, catching your breath. The world seemed to morph around you and all points gravitated towards the centre of it all: Peter Parker, on his knees with spit covering his chin and a sly smile on him as he stroked your cock.

He was on his knees and yet he had you wrapped around his finger. Peter tapped the tip of your cock against his tongue. He gave you teasing licks, the touch barely anything compared to earlier. Out of nowhere, he got up, kissed you deeply with his spit-covered lips and then stepped away. “Get on the bed and edge. I’ll be right back.” He waved in the direction of his bed, before disappearing into the bathroom.

You were stunned for a moment, until you heard the shower run. You shook your head and made your way over to the bed. You made yourself comfortable and followed the command that was given to you. You could only imagine what else was going to happen and the fantasies helped you stay on edge until Peter’s return.

When the bathroom door opened, Peter emerged, damp and naked. Your hand stilled as you ate him up with your eyes. Under all those nerdy shirts he apparently had been hiding a set of abs you wanted to lick all over. He was smooth, build out of perfect lines and arches. “Keep going,” Peter commanded as he approached like a predator. You swallowed the lump in your throat and continued stroking your sensitive cock.

Peter climbed over you and you opened your mouth, ready to receive his cock in your mouth, but it never happened. Instead, Peter shoved his ass in your face, hands parting his cheeks so you had access to his hole. Shortly after, you had both hands on his cheeks, while tonguing his hole. You were mesmerised by his scent, heady with the pleasure you got from him enjoying your ministrations. You could trace the outer muscles with the tip of your tongue, then press your tongue flat against his opening. He was relaxed enough that you could even slide inside and get a taste of where your cock was soon going to be.

You did not know how long you were eating his ass, but the end of it only neared when Peter started lubing up your cock. It started with the slow drag of his hand just to spread the liquid around, but soon enough he was edging you, while firmly planting his ass in your face, effectively preventing you from begging.

Your cock was twitching constantly by the time Peter raised his ass up. You saw him scoot forward until he could rub your cock between his cheeks. A string of pleas flowed out of your mouth like beer when you pour it for the first time in your life. You tried to touch his hips and move him onto your cock, but Peter slapped your hands away at the faintest touch. “Patience,” he reprimanded you. You groaned, but Peter was merciful or perhaps just as desperate as you. He slid down on you, reverse cowgirl style, ever so slowly. You did not know what was more maddening, the snail pace or the incredible tightness that swallowed up more and more of your cock. Peter didn’t dilly dally. As soon as he could go faster, he would be riding you faster, giving you the breathtaking sight of his ass bouncing on you. Each time it hit your skin, you could see the impact ripple through. When you reached out again, Peter allowed you to touch him and help him ride you. It was embarrassing how soon you felt your orgasm approaching. You tried to lift Peter off you to catch a break, but Peter held your hands down now, riding you like his life depended on it. “What? So soon? I knew you liked my ass, but aren’t you embarrassed?” He taunted you.

You couldn’t form the words, your mouth wide open in a silent scream as he drove you mad. Your silence was broken by a moan just as your seed started spilling out. Peter basically sat down, letting you cum deep inside him as he grinded his ass against you. It was almost too much. Your breath was ragged and hurried while Peter lifted himself off you to sit at the edge of the bed. “Holy shit,” you exclaimed after a few deep breaths, before crawling over to the other man to kiss him. It was less desperate now, but still full of tongue and desire.

“You better have at least another round in you,” Peter murmured against your lips. You smiled and ran a hand down his body to his cock, lips never leaving his. Peter gasped into your mouth as you kissed him deep, while jerking him off. You had barely gotten to speed up your movements, before Peter pushed you away with incredible strength that you would not have expected from him, before you knew about his big secret.

“Get up,” he instructed you, before dragging you in front of the foot of the bed. He scooted back and in an incredible display of flexibility, Peter pulled his legs behind his head. “Now I don’t care if you cum or not, but that cock is not gonna stop fucking me until I got my own cum in my mouth, got it?” You let out a light chuckle, bending down to kiss him again. With your lips still dancing together, you pushed the head of your cock back into Peter’s ass.

“Got it, boss.”

-------------

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#tasm #tasm peter parker #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x male reader #male reader #andrew garfield #marvel #mcu #peter parker x you #peter parker imagine #andrew garfield x reader #andrew garfield x male reader #marvel x reader #marvel x male reader #marvel x you

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clean-bands-dirty-stories · 4 months

Text

Rough Waters ~ P.P.

A/n: Added a little bit more than what the request asked for. Hope you like it!

Request: “Tasm!peter x male reader, where Pete and reader been having a rough time in their relationship to where Peter asks if reader wants to break up” by anon

Word Count: 1700+

MASTERLIST

"Where have you been?"

Peter frozen, mask in hand as he heard his partner's voice. He turned slowly - like a teenager caught coming home past curfew. He hesitated, analyzing their expression and body language to try to grasp whether they were anxious or angry. What time was it? He was in costume - they knew exactly where he'd been, which meant the problem was something else. Had he forgotten an anniversary or birthday? A performance? Had he stayed out too late and forgotten to message his boyfriend?

There were too many possibilties.

Y/n was especially hard to read tonight, which meant he was even more upset than usual. Peter braced himself. "Out."

That was not the right thing to say. Y/n's face turned a light shade of red as he tried very hard to keep calm and talk slowly. Calmly. "Okay. I'll give you that one." His eyes dropped to Peter's suit and for a second the most visceral rage crossed his face, before he smoothed it out again and met Peter's eyes. "I'm assuming you forgot then."

Peter shrugged, defensive. Always defensive. "I've got a lot going on Y/n, I forget."

"You forget," Y/n scoffed. The words curled from his lips like they were almost laughable, almost offensive. "I know you forget Peter. You forget, a lot."

He swallowed, wringing his mask. He felt cornered and he never responded well when he felt cornered. "What did I forget? Don't just leave it up in the air."

The calm coming from Peter seemed to make Y/n angrier. "No. I'm not going to remember everything for you. And don't you dare-" He rushed as Peter went to argue again, cutting him off before he could. "-start with me about how busy you are. I know you are busy Peter Benjamin." Ooh, middle name. This was very bad then. "If it was something I at least cared about I'd let it slide. I'm more than used to that. But May?"

His words hurt, but nothing knocked the breath out of his lungs like thinking he'd let May down. "What? Y/n you can't hold this from me, what did I forget?"

Y/n scoffed, turning away and heading further into the apartment. He seemed done with the conversation.

Peter wasn't though. He chased his boyfriend, his own anger growing. This wasn't something they could work through together - May was waiting for something from him. Y/n was holding him back from doing something for his aunt. This wasn't a small thing - this was huge. May didn't know Peter was Spider-Man. Had Y/n given him an excuse again? Was she okay? "Y/n-" He reached out, grabbing his boyfriend's arm in a desperate attempt to get him to stop.

Usually Y/n would pull away from him, spin around and start going off. Reprimand him and tell him everything and then they'd argue and after a while maybe cry and then they'd hold each other because it felt like their relationship was falling through their fingers. They did it every time anything went wrong - it was habit. Easy to play out. Every step was expected. Pre-written.

Except Y/n just stopped walking away. He froze, feet together, still looking away from Peter. It was so unexpected, so cold and far away, that it made Peter panic more than he'd ever panicked in their relationship before. He was stiff solid for a beat before he was falling forward, feet tripping to keep up as he made his way around Y/n. The man's eyes were blank. Empty. There was no anger on his face anymore, just... emptiness. He look exhausted.

"Y/n-" Peter began.

"It was May's birthday."

There was a long silence. It went on maybe even too long as Peter's will to fight suddenly left him. It was immediately gone - like a light switch turned off. He had been forgetful recently, scattered and distant. But.. surely he wouldn't forget that. Not something so important. He'd always rushed to keep himself busy. Work, Spider-Man, relationship. Or... arguing. Fighting. Had that really been every part of his life recently? Sure he did other things -

But, no. He couldn't think of a single other thing he'd done. Sleep, eat, shower, brush teeth, work, Spider-Man, come home and argue. When had arguing become part of the routine? When had the days started to blend together, every single one identical to the last? How had so much time passed without him even realizing it?

How long had they been like this?

He looked at Y/n, a horrible feeling sinking in his skin, settling in his rib cage. An ache. "We're not working anymore, are we?" He knew why Y/n didn't fight this time. Why he'd given up. There was nothing to fight for. Not when all they did was argue.

Y/n didn't even sigh, or shrug. He just sat on the bed. No hands through his hair. He didn't seem angry of frustrated or even sad. Just tired. It was more of an answer than he could have ever given with words. "We haven't worked for a very long time, Peter."

Peter sat on the other side of the bed, mask still in his hands, dangling between his legs. They sat like that for a very long time, backs to each other. It seemed silly, but he had to ask it out loud. "Do you want to break up?" His voice sounded heavy, hollow. It didn't even shock him. He realized it still hurt... but he'd seen this coming for a long time. That was why he was avoiding it, after all. He didn't want to address it. He had always been one to bury his head and pretend nothing was wrong.

This time Y/n did sigh. "Yeah." No argument. No fight. Just one, single word. It was so final, Peter didn't say anything else. He didn't even look up as the weight on the bed lifted and a few sounds here and there began to be made. A zipper, drawers opening and closing, a few doors opening and closing. Until - "You were worth it. In the end. I'm glad we got the time we did." A pause and then, "Peter?" When he didn't say anything, Y/n went silent. Then the bedroom door closed, and the apartment door opened, and then closed again.

The rest of the night was silent.

The daycare was loud. Peter was only here because May had asked him for a favor. Her neighbor had been caught up with something and needed someone to pick up her son. The first time had been a few months ago, and he had volunteered to pick the kid up for her as often as he could since then. It helped her out and... and...

Y/n was helping Michael - the child Peter was supposed to pick up - with his jacket. Y/n had kneeled down, and was laughing at some story Michael was telling. He looked breathtaking. All the weight from his shoulders gone, seeming to have slept very well. Brighter than before. He looked up when Peter approached, and not a lick of recognition was in his eyes. Peter thought back to the other world, with the two other Peters and the villains they'd fought together. The spell that would send everyone home and make everyone forget about Peter Parker.

Everyone.

He swallowed, forcing himself to collect himself. Y/n's eyes light up in the way they always did when he was looking at something he found wonderful. Or someone attractive. They'd seen each other from a distance so often. Y/n was usually busy with one of the other kids who favored him, a little girl with green eyes that always begged him to help her get her shoes on. Today she was with one of the other teachers though. Peter tried to dismiss the thought that Y/n might have arranged this on purpose.

"Hey little dude," he greeted Michael first, grinning as the toddler waddled up to him, hands reaching up. Peter scooped him up. Michael launched into a story about play time where they'd pretended to be Spider-Man. Peter felt his heart warm. He'd only been back from the other world for a year - and undoing his tarnished reputation had been hard work. But some people saw the old Spider-Man, and they were slowly opening up to him again. Glad to see him doing better. Some people didn't - but some people never would have in the first place, so he didn't hold it against himself too harshly.

In the middle of the story, Y/n chuckled. "Right?" Michael asked the teacher, as if remembering he was there for the first time. "You got the bad guy!"

Y/n blushed. The way Michael had been telling the story, Peter had assumed the boy had been playing Spider-Man. But, in that moment, it clicked that Y/n had been playing the hero, leaving the mischievous villain to the youth. "Spider-Man always gets the bad guy. That's what heroes do." Peter's breath caught. he hadn't heard Y/n call him a hero in a very long time. His unknowing ex looked over, suddenly sheepish "Sorry, I know- um- not a lot of people approve of Spider-Man. I didn't mean to-"

"It's okay," Peter was quick to reassure. "His mom is a fan of Spider-Man. But even if she wasn't, I wouldn't rat you out." He winked, as if they were conspirators, and he watched Y/n's face turn red. It was so easy to pick up on all their little hints and expressions - they were still so familiar to him. He hadn't forgotten a single detail of them, even after all this time. He had gone to another world, cleaned up his act, and even started therapy.

Maybe a second chance wouldn't be too out of the question. He could do it better this time.

"A trust worthy guy," Y/n mused. "Does he keep his promises?"

Peter thought on it. Y/n had said something similar the first time he had flirted with Peter too. He'd follow it up with, 'maybe you can promise me dinner then?' or something. But it was a real question - one Peter hadn't taken seriously enough the first time it was asked. "I try to."

Y/n's face light up with a smile. "Maybe you could promise we a coffee and if you succeed keeping that one, we can make a few more after that."

It was better than last time, so quickly on a better foot already. Peter smiled. "Yeah. I'd love that."

Y/n had been right the night he'd left. Peter was glad they'd met, and their love was worth all of the mess they'd gone through to experience it. This time, Peter would try harder though. This time it would work. He was sure of it.

Male Readers: @ravenpuff-oli @sortzz @fadedver

#male reader #peter parker x male reader #peter 3 x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #Peter Parker #Peter 3 #tasm Peter Parker #tasm #the amazing spider man x reader #the amazing spider man x male reader #the amazing spider man imagine #the amazing Spider-Man #dc #dc x male reader #dc imagine #dc x reader

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thewriterg · 7 months

Text

𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫

pairing(s); peter parker x gn!reader, can be read as tasm or mcu peter

summary; With exams less than a week away poor dietary decisions, unhealthy sleep habits, and cramming everything you’ve learned into different sockets of your brain was on your radar but you and peter always pull through —flufftober day; 3—

word count; 800+

warning(s); fluff, kisses, pet names, sleepy couple, and language

playlist; sweater weather by the neighborhood

A/n:—GIFs; @kitherondale & @cherienymphe— me when I listened to sweater weather and didn’t make me want to rip my hair out my scalp; 🙀

The wind blew into Peter's dimly lit room he sat at his desk glasses resting on the bridge of his nose laptop propped open the continuous sound of keys typing while his fingers danced along the board with a sudden halt before they continued in a melodic manner

Click-click-click-crunch-click-click click-crunch- click-cli-tap-tap-tap-tap-

You on the other hand lied on your stomach on the comfort of the bed the cool sheets under your skin engulfing you fully your nose in textbook quite literally as it lied under your chin whole you read over the section writing down key points to drill into your brain later humming a tune from your throat of a song that you remember faintly, that you couldn't quite get out of your head.

Peter could feel the heat rushing to his face and he was suddenly very grateful for the lack of bright light in his room as one of his hands rested on your knees the other typing against the keys of his laptop that same comforting noise

You were up from your position off the bed trailing behind Peter's chair he finished typing his last few words before turning his attention towards you a welcoming gaze looking over your features as you slid next to him shuffling awkwardly in the chair that was too small to fit you both before you settled on the potion of you leaning against the arm of the chair, your legs thrown over the brunettes lap, and your head resting against his shoulder

Click-click-click-click-click-tap-tap-tap-click-click

Suddenly he was jerking in his seat as your cold hands pressed against his stomach recovering quickly so he didn't drop you while you snickered into his shoulder

“Bug boy can't handle a little cold?” You teased and if Peters face wasn’t red before it was beet now as he huffed with a roll of his eyes playfully

“Spiders die in the fall Y/n” He gasped playfully in mock offense and you could hear the smile in his voice without looking directly at him and you hummed in response playing with the loose thread of his sweater curled it around pinky before pulling downward for it to unravel in a loose spiral as you repeated the process

“I have to go dress shopping for your funeral, get one of those big church hats” You teased and the pale boy was gasping again with more seriousness to his tone

“Not the hat, im putting in my will that no one is allowed to wear obnoxious hats at my funeral it's a disrespect” Peter said matter-of-factly as holding back laughter in his throat occasionally pausing to get get his sentence out before he could turn into a laughing mess

“I'll be at the door with a basket snatching hats” You stated seriously before a second passed and you were both falling into a laughing fit that’s blended into the rustling trees outside the sound slipping through the open window seal

While you both settled after a moment you went to stand to go back to your work but Peter had grabbed onto the back of you he shirt In protest before you could get far looking at you with a pout

“We’ve been working for two hours we deserve a break, come on.” With a small huff you nodded before returning to your original position before letting a yawn take over your body resting your head on Peter’s shoulder as he swung you both side to side and soon he felt you lean into him a little more and listened into your heartbeat get a little slower

The vigilante couldn’t tell how much had passed but the sun was just setting when he had last check and now stars were in the sky he found a rhythm in your fanning breath against his neck

Peters attention shifted to his opening door rushing to shush his aunt with a finger to his lips and wide eyes which she visibly cringed at while nodding

“Just letting you know that I’m getting started on dinner and I just wanted to know if they were staying” She whispered apron secure around her frame and hair up on the back of her neck in a bun

“I should probably get them home curfew is soon” He whispered in response

“You know you’re a really good partner Peter” May whispered and before the boy could respond she was out of the room with the gentle shutting of the door following after her

“A good partner huh?” You mumbled tiredly and once again Peter was a red as he’d ever been

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foggyredkastle · 3 months

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Y/N: Would you like something to drink? *They open the fridge* We have water, milk, juice, spiders, Dr. Pepper-

Peter: Spiders?

Y/N: Spiders it is then.

Peter: No, that wasn't-

* But they were already pouring him a brimming glass of spiders…*

#marvel #team red #tasm peter parker #peter parker x male reader #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker headcanon

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rowniebow · 1 year

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Tasm!pete loosing m!reader after Gwen but reader comes back cause marvel shenanigans 😍 and sees Peter beyond broken and tries to comfort him ?

the last time | tasm!peter parker x male!reader

pairings: tasm!peter parker x male!reader

cw: death, wa-oh, is it considered angst? a lil bit o cursin, no way home mentions

word count: 3.3k+

an: no way home had such nice closure for tasm!peter, so happy bout it. thank you so much for requesting! hopefully ill be getting through the other few i have before winter break is over n i gotta go back to work + college. stay safe, happy new year if i don't have anything else till then!

masterlist

⭒

"damn it," you huffed, holding peter's heavy, limp body close. you leaned against the turned over car, taking a moment to find your thoughts.

you squeezed your boyfriend in your arms, hoping he could feel your silent prayers that he would wake up and save the day like he always does.

but as the stomping got closer and his breathing stayed shallow and struggled, you came to the conclusion that he was not going to be able to help you this time.

you, as quietly as you could, grunted while moving peter on to your back. your sore muscles ached. your ripped skin pulled. your bleeding wounds burned.

peter's limp body draped over your back easily. your legs took you to behind another set of turned over cars. to your relief, the villain didn't see you two moving at all. maybe he was too consumed with trying to take down the manhatten bridge that you were desperate to get off of.

you set your sights on your next set of rubble that you'd go for coverage to. your legs seemed to drain of adrenaline with every step you took. your feet felt as if bricks were piling on them, and the dragging began.

within so few feet of the large rubble pile, filled with car parts and pieces of the bridge the large villain was tearing from the bridge, your foot caught on something, sending your heavy bodies toppling over. your elbows and knees seemed to hit every booming metal possible, and echoes of clatter rang out over the bridge.

the monster drew it's attention to your fleeting body and began making it's way towards you.

you unknowingly prayed it didn't see you as you pulled peter into your arms and crouched into the rubble. your breathing was heavy, and you were sure this villain could hear that whether he saw you or not.

your prayers failed to be answered, yet again.

the monster took his ginormous hand and swiped the large rubble pile away as if it were crumbs on a table.

you looked up at him - he was some sort of animal mutation. an ape the size of a whale with claws similar to a cat and skin similar to a lizard. he had as many eyes as a spider (which made your skin crawl) and the teeth of a shark.

you don't know what peter had gotten himself into with this guy, all you knew is how determined this monstrosity was to reveal spider-man's identity.

the creature's odd hand's came down quickly, smacking you two a great distance away. you kept a tight hold on peter, your hands moving to protect his head and neck while you two were in the air.

so very lucky for you, though, that you got to land on your back onto the hard gravel and peter's body came flopping on top of you, his head on your chest.

you gasped for breath, the air in your lungs seeming to have lost it's way. you back burned from the many small glass shards finding their own way into your skin.

your arms went limp from exhaustion, only your hands being able to grip on to peter's arms to keep you in touch with reality.

you felt the large creature's booming steps make their way towards you, and you did your best to try and sit up with peter. but of course, your exhaustion proved to be stronger than you, and his steps quicker.

you only mustered a pleading look, but of course the immoral being paid no mind to you, only snatching peter's limp body up.

a toothy grin (if you could even call it that) pulled at the creatures face. the pleasure it got as it tried to slip it's claw under peter's mask practically made the monster shake.

you took the rare leisurely speed of the creature as an opportunity, grabbing a nearby pipe, and using the last bit of your strength to throw it at the creature.

the pipe landed painfully in one of the many eye's of the creatures. the creature winced as if it were a mere eyelash that got in it's eye. all of the eyes looked directly at you. the glare it gave you nearly made you throw up, but you choked it back.

the creature tossed peter's body, the impact causing him to slowly gain consciousness again.

he slowly blinked his eyes open, the sheer of the mask over his eyes brought him back to the reality of the situation.

his head throbbed, the pain filtered into his eyes. the daylight was too much for him. he felt every part of him to an intense degree. each and every nerve was more than aware of the state of his body.

but through the sheer of his mask and through the pain of his body, he heard your arguments in the distance with the creature that, he only now is coming to remember, is supposed to be dead by now.

you were wrapped in the creature's odd, almost snake-like fingers. you desperately, weakly struggled as he tightened his grip.

you cough and groaned feeling your ribs break one by one under his pressure.

peter couldn't make out exactly what you two were saying to each other. the ringing in his ears too loud to hear anything, really.

but he saw mouths moving, and by the frown on the creatures face, he could only assume your sassy mouth got the best of you.

but the creature wouldn't have any of it. he raised his free hand, pointer finger out.

peter got to his knees, the world seemed to move in slow motion as he realized what was happening.

he yelled out a protest, pushing himself to his feet, the adrenaline suddenly fueling him like a truck.

but his yell meant nothing.

the claw went right through your torso.

the creature smiled, withdrew his hand and merely tossed you aside.

rage filled peter's bones. he was blind. he felt as if he passed out, only coming back to reality when he was standing over the creatures now deceased body.

peter stumbled to you desperately, the adrenaline carrying him farther than he should be able to go.

"peter-," you coughed out, struggling to sit up in an attempt to greet him.

"no, no, no," peter kneeled beside you, a hand under your back and the other hovering over your body, unsure of what to do. "save your breath, baby, we're gonna get you to a hospital, okay?"

peter tried to slip a hand under your legs to pick you up. your quiet groans and breathy 'ow's' stopped him, however, and he set you back down on the ground, not wanting to put you in any further pain.

"honey, please-," peter began to scan down your body. he wanted to find the wound, stop it from hurting you. he'd do anything.

"no, peter," you grabbed his face and redirected his sights back to you. "don't look at that, look at me." you smiled. your tired eyes were glazed over.

your fingers that hardly seemed to work made their way under his mask and pulled it over peter's head. the mask came off and revealed peter biting his lip, eyes full of tears.

"it's okay, sweetie,"

"no! it's not okay! don't- you can't leave me-,"

"i'm not leaving you, sweetheart,"

"you are, you are. i can't-i can't be without you,"

your hands kept on his cheeks and the smile on your face never left. you didn't want him to see you in pain. you didn't want him to remember you upset - because you aren't.

peter's tears soaked your fingers.

"i would never leave you, sweetheart, i'm-i'm not leaving."

peter broke away from your hands to look down and search for the culprit.

"hey," you quiet, breathy voice and weak fingers drew him back to your eyes. "stop, stop. just- me, look at me,"

"i-i love you,"

"i love you, too, peter," your droopy lids threatened to close but you refused. "you're doing great things, okay? you're-you're going to keep doing great things, okay?"

"okay," he stuttered through cries.

"p-promise me,"

"i promise,"

"you have to promise me, peter,"

"i do, i do, i promise,"

you nodded, leaning back on to the rubble, peter's hand still resting on your back. your eyes slowly searched for peter's hand, reaching and intertwining your weak fingers with him.

tears fell faster as he grabbed your hand firmly, not too tight in case you'd break.

"i'm not leaving you, okay, peter?"

"okay,"

"i'm-i'm not,"

"okay," his words of assurance were a stark contrast to his stuttering, sobbing, sadness.

"i l-love you,"

"i love you too, i love you so much,"

"keep doing good,"

"i promise, i will,"

the smile never faded, but peter watched as your glow did.

he watched as the light in your eyes left with your final blink. as the strength in your hand weakened. as the stiffness in your back collapsed onto his hand.

he pulled your limp body into a one-sided hug. your arms failed to wrap around his neck like they always used to. the crinkles in your eyes were soft and smooth. he seemed to be hyper aware of your breathless nose in the crook of his neck.

and he cried. he sobbed and screamed and pleaded for you to come back. that he didn't want to be without you, not again. he was miserable before you came in to his life and picked him off of the ground and rose him higher.

and peter was left alone on the manhatten bridge.

left alone with his anger and sadness once again.

⭒⭒

"okay, i have coffee, hot chocolate for ned's lola, and a little bit of whiskey for the man who's best friend just died," you muttered closing the door to ned's house carefully, hands full of the grocery bags full of candy and alcohol and stated drinks.

turning around, your sad eyes found the ones of the men standing around with the two children you were responsible for the safety of while peter and your, now deceased, best friend handled the criminals from the other dimension.

"oh, i would have got more coffee if i knew we were having guests," your shocked eyes scanned the unfamiliar men. "and, more alcohol," you looked the man in the spider-man costume up and down.

you smiled in spite of the awkward silence of all five people staring at you.

"oh, here, ned's lola," you grinned brightly handing the hot chocolate to the older woman.

"i'm going to bed!" she walked away, hot chocolate in hand.

"what's wrong with her?" you quirked an eyebrow over to ned.

the man in the spider-man costume muttered your name, and you finally met his teary eyes.

"hi, have we met?" you smiled softly, setting the full drink holder down on the table.

"they're peter parker's from other dimensions and i'm a wizard now! i can make portals with my bare hands!" ned burst out, his hands flying everywhere, while mj grabbed at a coffee, downing it without thought.

"i need a second," the 'peter' in the spider-man suit went for the door you had just come out of.

"oh, no, no, no, no! you are going to sit here with us-," mj began, shakily pointing between him and a chair.

"i just need a second!" he repeated louder, cutting mj off.

everyone stood watching as he left, slamming the door a bit, only to open it, let out a small apology to ned's lola, and close it again, gently.

"can you- i cannot- what the hell," mj muttered panicked under her breath.

your eyes lingered on the closed door. you grabbed your coffee as mj continued with her sputtering.

"hi," the nicely dressed man smile. "i'm peter, and he is peter, too."

"okay! sure," you smiled back, confusion written over your features with all that's happened. "peter's are here, too, now?" you looked to ned and mj.

ned, still in awe, nodded hurriedly. mj threw her hands up, lips forming into a thin line.

"okay, is he-," you gestured to the door. "is he okay?"

mj shrugged, obviously tired and confused, and most of all, worried. worried for peter, who you three had no idea of the location of.

"okay, don't worry about it, hon," you smiled and made your way towards the door. "nice to, uhm, meet you, mr.-," you stuttered over your words.

you still don't really understand all the multiverse stuff all too much, despite peter's explanation. you understood very well that you weren't the smartest when it came to the three brilliant science loving children, but when peter was explaining the whole situation to you, you'd never felt more similar to a wall.

"mr. parker?"

"yes," he nodded, and began speaking more directly to ned and mj about where your peter was and how he'd been looking for him.

you took the opportunity to sneak out of the door.

⭒⭒⭒

'peter' sat on the step to the house. his mind was full of you.

why were you here?

i mean, obviously it's not you, it's just you.

but you're so similar - why are you so similar?

why did you smile at him like that? like he was safe? you don't know him, peter shouldn't be safe to you. but, when he thought about it, you never treated anyone as if they weren't safe. that was something he loved about you.

you would have liked the shirt you are wearing, he would have bought you it as a gift if he saw it in a passing window.

his thoughts ran with all these insignificant thoughts about the two you's.

he wondered if your favorite color was the same, or if you had pets in this universe. or why you looked so damn similar.

he missed you, peter wasn't going to argue against that to anyone. it'd only been a couple of years. it's too soon to see you. fuck, it'd probably always be too soon.

"hey," he heard your voice. the tears that threatened his eyes finally blinked their way out of him. too soon, too soon, too soon, too soon. "are you okay?"

he found it insane how, even still with a different you, your voice is able to cut through any negative thoughts he was having. how you could quiet his mind and fill it with the most pleasant music.

of course you'd come out and check up on him. of course you're just as kind as you were. you are you, after all. no universe could lack your infinite warmth.

"i'm-i'm good, yeah,"

peter's voice cracked. he wanted to laugh at his bad acting.

you were silent for a bit.

peter stifled his sniffs and wiped at his cold, runny nose.

"you don't seem very 'good'." you repeated, hesitantly sitting next to him, a comfortable distance between you two. you silently handed him your coffee, which he slowly took hold of, keeping it close and muttering a thanks.

"i-i, um," peter went over his options and words.

he wanted to share with you. it's you: the person he told and shared every single thought with just two years ago, why wouldn't he want to share his thoughts with you? even if it's about how you died.

"there was a you in my universe,"

he noticed your eyebrows raise in interest. he noticed the sparkle in your eyes. "really?"

you always thought science was cool. you loved the idea of multiple universes, always coming up with different theories of how you'd be in different ones.

god, how he wished he could report back to you about this you.

he finally looked over to meet your eyes. you observed the redness and how glassy his eyes were.

"yeah, yeah, he-," peter choked on his words, not necessarily ready to share his darkest moments. even if it is with you. "tell me about yourself?"

"what?"

"what is your life like?"

you were taken aback by his statement. the only thing running through his mind was how you reacted the same when he asked you about your life in an effort to get to know you at the very beginning.

"oh-, i don't know how to summarize a life,"

peter felt his lips tug up a bit at your words. you're so awkward and nervous, just like you were at the start.

"i have a nice life. i mean it's been a lot recently with peter's whole identity thing. i have- erm," you coughed, choking on your words, remembering the news announcing her to have died. you let your eyes fall to the ground. "i had a really great best friend and we, you know. i helped her raise peter after ben,"

"who? aunt may?"

your pained eyes looked up and found his. "you know may?"

"i-i was raised by my aunt may, too."

"did i-?"

"no, no, you-" peter felt a sob kick in his throat. "you and i, we-uhm. you were my mj."

you felt your glassy eyes widen. your eyebrows finding your hairline.

you did find him cute. you two were certainly much more similar in age compared to your peter being on verge of eighteen

"i was?"

"you were,"

"what-what happened?"

"i-," peter swallowed his words but they kept resurfacing. "i got involved with someone who was trying to expose my identity, too. but you-you saved me. but i-i couldn't save you."

"oh," you watched his eyes train on the ground. they scrunched together in an effort to build a wall against himself. his fists balled up, his fingers bruising his palms.

you scooted closer. you wanted to keep your distance for his comfort. but, if you two were that close in his universe, you're sure he wouldn't mind how close you sat.

your arm fell onto his back, rubbing it in smooth circles. you took attention to how different his suit compared to the one you were most familiar with.

"you don't blame yourself, do you?" you almost heard a small laugh in his throat, and you suddenly became embarrassed by your question, "sorry, that was dumb. you're you, of course you do,"

he laughed louder, more hearty. more full.

you always had a way of making him laugh despite the circumstances.

"don't-don't blame yourself," you tripped over your words. "if-if i'm anything like me," you squinted your eyes at how odd the sentence was, "then i'm sure i was fully aware of the situation."

peter looked over to you. what a surreal experience it was, to be getting consoled about your death by you.

"i thought it was worth it. my life for yours. i feel the same about the peter from this universe. i'm sure i wanted you to be happy and continue doing good things,"

peter flinched at words that felt too similar to the sentiment you left him with.

"i wouldn't want you to stay grieving over me like this, peter. i don't want you to grieve over me like this. i want you to be happy and enjoying the life i left for"

peter's lack of sounds or movements stirred the pot of anxiety in your stomach. your fingers twitched and your eyebrows felt knitted together.

you didn't think twice about your instinct to very gently wrap your arms around him.

an arm crossed over his chest and tugged on his shoulder to pull him into you. your other hand made it's way into his hair, and you ran your fingers through the messy brownness.

he leaned into your touch, he'd never fight an opportunity to feel your touch again, even just once more. his head found its way onto your shoulder.

"i'm-i'm sorry, i'm not good with words," you whispered.

he laughed, tears falling despite his happiness to be in your arms. at least he can take it in and a enjoy it this time, truly absorb you knowing this would be the last time.

"it's okay, i know,"

you two sat like that for a long time. no words, just your hands nervously in his hair and his head relaxing on your shoulder, face in your neck.

you worried you smelled bad, and how badly you were with your words, whether you upset him more, if he could hear your heartbeat.

peter disregarded everything, though.

he took in your sweet smell, you smelled the same as you. he went over your words in his head, appreciating your thoughtfulness. he'd learned to decode what you and others felt were messy sentences. your "messy sentences" became the only ones he truly felt he could understand.

and he very much could hear how fast your nervous heartbeat was.

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redcoralpot · 1 year

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Hii, if you don’t mind, could you do a smut Drabble of Peter Parker(any) x Top!FTM reader?

The readers been super dysphoric lately so Peter(being the great boyfriend that he is) buys him a strap-on with a realistic, skin textured dildo, one that also stimulates the readers t-dick. He tells the reader to put it on and Rides y/n. y/n thanks Peter in between moans for the gift and kiss while y/n blows peters back out till they both orgasm and he feels less dysphoric in the end?

I implemented some safety educational things in here, I hope you don’t mind! <33

Warnings: NSFW (18+), dysphoric breakdown at the beginning.

Word Count: 2.1K

Peter Parker (3) X FTM Reader - Crack Me Down

“Babe,” a voice shouted from the end of the hallway, footsteps following.

You had said you would be ready in five, but that was fifteen minutes ago. Your reflection in the mirror aggravated you, making the tight feeling around your heart squeeze harder, and you wanted to rip your hair out. The confidence you had in your masculinity had been stomped out repeatedly this past week— if you were such a man, why could none of them see it? What was so wrong with you, your body, that never made you manly in everyone you ever interacted with’s eyes?

Well, maybe everyone was an overstatement. Peter saw you as the man you are, he’d proven, but during times like these, you couldn’t help but doubt it a little. When it sounded like the whole world was out to grasp you as a woman, why would he ever even go against that? The thought made your ability to breathe harder, tears threatening to spill even when you heard the bathroom door creak open.

A gentle hand rubbed your shoulder, “Hey, uh, what’s wrong?”

You clutched the edge of the sink. Everything was wrong, everything, everything, everything, and yet you couldn’t verbalize it. The edges of your vision only got more blurry as your attention was pinpointed on each and every body part that simply was wrong.

The mirror wasn’t in front of you anymore, and you were strategically placed in the bathtub, with your back being the only thing the mirror saw. Peter was beside you on the edge, playing with his hands and staring. You sniffled.

“Sorry you had to deal with that.”

“No, no— it’s okay, I think it’s good that you got that out.”

“I guess.”

He shrugged, awkwardly, “I’m right, it’s been a really tough week. Do you wanna, I dunno, stay home today?”

“That’d be nice.”

“I think we might have some of your favorite ice cream left in the fridge, but we should maybe talk first.”

You looked down, “Yeah.”

It had been a month since your breakdown, and while it had faded from your immediate thoughts, the dysphoria never got much better. You could tell that Peter was trying his best to help, always going out of his way to introduce you as his boyfriend to anyone you meet, but sometimes that didn’t stop the misgendering. Peter had also been disappearing a lot more often lately, or retreating to the bathroom with his computer late at night when he thought you were asleep. It worried you, but you knew with his responsibilities as Spider-Man that you should just turn a blind eye.

Now, it was the weekend, and the late nights had finally caught up to him. You had to be extra careful not to wake him as you slipped out of bed, eyeing his body when you grabbed your clothes and shuffled out of the room. The last sight you caught before finally closing the bedroom door was that of stuck up strands of fluffy brown hair peeking from underneath the blanket. Yeah, Peter was still definitely knocked out cold.

With your clothes now on, you tiptoed downstairs and immediately slid to the kitchen. You had breakfast already in the fridge, and you only needed to heat it up in the microwave. Now, you leaned against the counter and watched it rotate in the machine, relishing in the quiet environment. Alas, God was out to spite you that day, and a loud knock interrupted the peace you had.

Grumbling, you abandoned your breakfast and opened the door. The perpetrator was already pulling out of the driveway, and you looked down at your feet, where two packages lay. Weird, you couldn’t recall you or Peter ordering anything. Lifting the boxes inside, you turned to see the man staring.

“Good morning, handsome, did the mailman wake you up?” You smiled, but Peter wasn’t looking at you.

He was looking at the packages in your hands.

“Oh, these were dropped off by our door. They’re addressed to you, but I can’t remember if you mentioned anything was coming.”

All at once, his face burst into the worst blush you had ever seen on him, and he cracked an awkward laugh, “Um, yeah, that was a surprise. Or was supposed to be one.”

“What is it?”

“We should go back to bed for this, it’s kinda private.”

His face was still scarlet as he slipped back into the bedroom, and you looked back down at the packages. Peter’s reaction only made you more curious, so you ran after him. His hands were fidgeting as he sat on the bed when you turned into the doorway, and his back was slightly slouched.

His eyes flicked away from you and he turned his back, “Open the smallest one first.”

“Okay.”

Slicing it open with a box cutter, you lifted the flaps to reveal another, smaller box and a dark cloth material wrapped in plastic. Observing the smaller box closer, you could see that the label read “Stand-To-Pee Silicone Packer”. Your eyes widened, a warm feeling bursting through your heart.

“I thought it might help after our talk last month,” Peter’s voice interrupted your speechless joy.

“You thought right!”

As you giddily grabbed his face to give him a kiss, he added, “I ordered the matching underwear for it too, is it in there?”

“Oh, yeah, it is,” You pulled out the next item and cut off the wrapping, revealing tight, black, boxer-style underwear that had a hole in the front.

“It—well, according to my research, it should hold the packer in place and allow you to pee at the same time.”

“How do you clean it?”

He shrugged, “Water and soap works, but boiling it is apparently the most effective way since it’s silicone. If you’re not sure, it should come with cleaning instructions. We can look at that together if you want?”

“Yeah, sure, do you just dry it off with a towel?”

“Air drying preserves the color and from what I’ve heard from trans men that’ve been using them for a while, you should dust it with cornstarch too.”

“Why?”

“Prevents it from becoming sticky.”

“Huh, interesting.”

With that, you reached for the second, larger package. Peter tensed up beside you, and you saw the tips of his ears heat up again from the corner of your eye.

“What’s wrong?”

“Just—,” he hesitates, “don’t judge me.”

You gave him a questioning look; why would you ever think badly of him simply because of a package? The inquiry just made you more curious, and you practically ripped the poor box open. Inside was a box holding a realistic silicone dildo and a soft, underwear-style harness.

In other words, a strap on. As reported by some writing on the side of the box, it also had an additional vibrating part that would stimulate the clit of the user.

You looked up at your boyfriend in awe, “Babe.”

“Yeah?”

“This is awesome, genuinely,” He avoided your gaze.

“Really?”

“Yeah! In fact, do you want to try it out right now?”

“Woah, woah, not so fast. Really, I’d really love to but I also did safety research.”

“Is this what you’ve been up to at night?”

“…Yes. But as I was saying, it’s good to just wear it around the house before we actually use it.”

“Okay, I can understand that.”

“Wait, you weren’t asleep when I was doing research?”

The wait was hard for you, how could it not be? You were tempted to try it out as soon as Peter walked out, but he didn’t give you the chance. He kept you on the bed and told you absolutely everything he had learned. He had even been kind enough to give you his notes on the subject, some of which you had been skimming through for the past week.

Lately, however, your boyfriend seemed to be fidgety. Now, being fidgety was typical of him, but it was over the top. You couldn’t help but notice it and today, you wanted to talk about it with him.

You waited until you were both in the bedroom before dropping the big question, “What’s been up with you?”

“What?”

“I can tell something’s up.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” He sounded unsure of himself, and you gave him an unbelieving stare.

“Sure, spill it.”

He must have realized that there was no way out of the conversation, and surrendered, “Okay, I was being honest when I said nothing was wrong specifically. Something’s just been on my mind.”

“And?”

“Fuck, I don’t know how to say it.”

“Is it negative or positive?”

“Positive,”

“Uhuh?” You got closer, rubbing your thumb under his jaw.

He cracked.

“I really, really wanna ride you,”

You froze in shock, and he took that opportunity to hide his head in your neck, “Please, put it on, I’ll do all the work if you want?”

The frozen moment melted as quickly as it had come, with you starting to sink into your role. You slid your hand up to the back of his hair, pulling his face out of its spot.

“Wait on the bed and take your pants off,” you ordered.

Peter took a sharp breath before you let go and sauntered to the bathroom. No, it didn’t take you long to set yourself up, not with the thought of Peter Parker, the city’s most rebellious vigilante, sitting half-naked and obedient on your bed stuck in your mind. You were greeted with such a sight when you returned, except a million times better.

Your boyfriend was there on the sheets, his ears cherry red and his fingers twitching. His eyes lit up as you stepped in, and oh my, it was definitely a vision to witness. Anticipation was eating at you, so you eagerly sat at the head of the bed, popping the cap of a lube bottle open and squirting a healthy portion into your hand.

“Do you want me to prepare you?”

His voice cracked, “Yeah,”

He climbed over you, balancing his weight on his knees and his hands on your shoulders. Peter shivered when he felt a cool finger circle his hole, before it pushed in. He sighed at the familiar feeling, rocking back on your hand as an open invitation to add more.

“Color?”

“Green, really green.”

“Good boy.”

With that comment, you could feel him gasp and clench down. Slowly, you took the opportunity to add in more fingers, pumping them in and out. It wasn’t long before you slid them out and silenced Peter’s whine with a nip to the neck.

He wasted no time after this, positioning his strong thighs in order to sink down on your strap. You flicked a button on a remote in your shirt pocket, and the strap, along with the additional part, started to vibrate. Peter was caught by surprise, throwing his head back and slapping a hand over his mouth to suppress a moan, while you bit your lip and sat your hands on his waist.

“F-fuck,” he panted, legs shaking.

“Go ahead, sweetheart, you wanted to ride me.”

He groaned, fucking himself on your dick. His head fell on your shoulder as he did so, tears pricking at his eyes, “Did you— d-did you like your gifts?”

You sounded breathless in his ear, heat pooling in your stomach, “Shit, of course I did.”

“Really?”

“Uhuh,” you moaned, “let me show you how— unh— thankful I am.”

Your hands gripped his waist harder, taking the control from Peter. With as much bravo you could muster, you thrusted up into him, and he sobbed. You bounced him on your cock with him drooling over your neck.

“Thank you, fuck, thank you so much,”

“Can I cum? I’m so close, please, please, please—“ he begged, his fingers digging bruises into your shoulder.

You nodded, and he only became more desperate, “Oh god, oh shit,”

You didn’t even have to control him anymore, he thrust himself mindlessly again and again as he chased his high, and you were getting just as close to yours. His body trembled before he whined your name, slowing his hips and looking down. You didn’t have to in order to know what happened, leaving sloppy kisses along his arm as you came too, thighs shaking.

Fingers numb, you reached to the remote and flicked it off. Peter sighed, lifting up his head to give you a long, soft kiss.

“You’re the best boyfriend ever,” you mumbled against his lips, grinning.

#peter parker #spiderman #tasm peter parker #male y/n #trans male reader #peter parker x reader #x male reader #dom male reader #male reader #peter 3 #tasm!peter x reader #tasm fic #x reader #x y/n #trans ftm #transgender

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stinkysam · 10 months

Text

Peter Parker - Blind

Warning : none

Genre : Angst ?

Synopsis : "Peter growing distant after being bit which leads to a big fight." -Anon

Reader : Male (you/yours)

He started to always leave you during dates, quitting you sooner than planned, making you confused and wondering if you did something bad after doing it several times.

Whatever you did wrong, you didn’t mean to, so you tried to explain yourself to him, to know if something had happened but he always acted weird and awkward, telling you nothing was wrong and you did nothing bad. Giving you a forehead kiss as if it would help his case.

The first few times it worked, smiling as you told yourself you were just imagining things. But quickly you noticed the same pattern. Peter would hang out without you or leave quickly to stay by himself. When you asked him about it he denied such things. This time he was the one telling you you were imagining things.

He didn’t even notice he was growing distant. He thought he was being smooth with his “thing”. But it was too important and exciting not to put his attention to what happened since he got bitten by a spider. So he put you aside and gave no thoughts to your worries.

He frowned when his aunt mentioned how little he hung out with you now. What could she mean by that ? He hangs out with you just as much as before.

He is completely delusional.

After she points it out again, asking rather awkwardly if you two are still dating or if there’s trouble, he decides to think about it and try to change it.

To no avail.

The changes are unnoticeable. He still leaves early, cutting short your sweet moments to stay by himself. But why would he come back like he had the time of his life ? Looking exhilarated.

Then his uncle was murdered and it got worse. You thought he needed time to mourn by himself, that you could only help him if he wanted you to.

You continued to worry. You then thought the things people said about romance were true. It dies down after a certain time and you end up stopping being lovey-dovey. But this was worse than not being lovey-dovey anymore.

You didn’t want to be that type of boyfriend. The type that thinks his boyfriend is cheating as soon as the romance dies down a bit. But you couldn’t help it. You weren’t seeing one another as much as before and he seemed to enjoy his time without you much more than with you.

So you decided to be a big man about it and talk about it again to your boyfriend. You asked him what he was doing when he wasn’t with you, why he was so busy suddenly. He told you his work was taking most of his time along with his part-time job as a photographer. But you knew it was fake.

He would always rant to you about his work, his discoveries, or scientific facts about stuff he found out the day, and he’d always show you his photos, considering your point of view to know which one to choose. But these had dropped significantly.

He had stopped ranting about today’s work or asking if you’d seen his photos.

You voiced your worries, not mentioning your plaguing thoughts of him cheating on you. But he denied his distance from you. Again. And this time you had enough so you asked if he wanted to break up.

You faced a very confused Peter, looking at you with a frown as to why you would suddenly break up with him. And finally, you asked if he was seeing someone else. That’s when your voices raised.

He denied it again, slightly raising his tone as he began to feel cornered, making you speak louder, losing your temper.

He claimed he didn’t understand anything or why you were accusing him of such things and when you explained yourself once more he acted weird, fumbling over his words to find excuses. Without even meaning it he tried to make you the bad guy, saying he thought you had enough of hearing him talk about his scientific projects or help him with his photographs.

You scoffed, clearly, you had enough, not wanting to yell at him you decided to leave.

He tried to get you to talk to him, to explain why you were suddenly walking away but you didn’t respond. You gave enough explanations. If he didn’t want to hear you, it was his problem, not yours anymore.

So you walked away.

You didn’t respond to his messages or voicemails on your phone, not even after your parents told you he called on your house phone. If he wanted distance, you could give him some.

Of course, you were sad but you were mostly angry. How could he not hear your worries and keep clearly, shamelessly lying to you ?

He even came to your house, as you tried to hide in your room. You had told your parents to not let him in, saying you two had broken up. They were understanding enough to do as asked despite their concern. You heard them lie and say you were outside.

You only answered him once.

“I told you everything I had to say. I won’t repeat myself. Come back when you’re finally ready to say the truth.”

Your phone calmed down for a bit. Peter didn’t know what to say back. Should he really tell you about it ? Has he really grown that distant ? Was it that obvious ?

He tried to ask his aunt for help, telling her there was something he couldn’t tell you but the same thing was driving you apart because of it. He didn’t wanna tell you because he didn’t know what it meant. All he wanted was to find his uncle’s killer again and it was too new and unpredictable as well as dangerous to tell you.

He found himself against the wall, cornered with two choices.

It’s half reluctant he chose to tell you.

He wanted to save your relationship but he didn’t want to put you in danger by knowing what he truly did of his free time.

So he climbed to your window and knocked at the glass for you to notice him. You opened up very confused as to how he managed to climb so high. He showed you his newfound powers, spider-like as he climbed again, but this time to your ceiling.

Apologizing, he explained he was using them to find his uncle’s killer and the police were after him. And soon he had begun to go after the other criminals.

He felt ashamed he hadn’t seen how distant you two had become and apologized once more. He should’ve listened to you and come clear much sooner. He doesn’t know why he didn’t tell you when he got his powers. He wanted you to be there with him to see him discover his abilities. Yet he didn’t tell you and soon enough he got caught up in his need for revenge and it was too late.

He looked at the floor as he spoke, too embarrassed to look at you as he played with his fingers.

You didn't know what to say. This was far from what you've imagined and didn't know how to react. You wanted to stay mad, but he had good reasons. You, too, would've gone more interested and invested in your newfound powers than anything else.

So, will you forgive him and accept his excuses ?

#male reader #m!reader #peter parker #peter parker x male reader #spiderman #the amazing spiderman #tasm #spiderman x male reader #tasm x male reader

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clarks-letterman · 2 years

Note

Okay but like…Bully!Male reader falling for Nerdy!Pete…and like things escalate once you have detention and have to clean the tables of your class and The sexual tension is sky rocketing so much so Pete has to use his hands to hush you incase someone heard the…commotion 😭

I'M LOVING EVERY WORD!! ...let's get this written >:D

a/n — thanks for requesting this and i tried to work it in the best i could!

summary — check the request above! it's basically 1 to 1

warnings — smut! top!peter parker and bottom!reader, creampies, anal sex

words — 3.8k (i think my longest fic so far)

~~~

The end of the school day had finally arrived; for most, it was a joyous celebration as it marked the start of the two days between this grueling week and the next one to follow, but for two individuals, that end was just the beginning of their time in detention.

"Back again, huh? I guess you missed me," Peter spoke, having only just set his bag on the side of his desk as he leaned up to see you taking a seat at the desk next to his. Immediately, he took a hand to his hair, toying with it to look a bit better before the conversation was set in motion.

You were quick to respond with a bite to your words, "Shut up, Parker. Why are you even here? Fall asleep from staying up too late again?"

Peter—unperturbed by your sudden outlash towards him—leaned forward on the oak surface of his desk and explained how he had ended up with a slip for detention, "That's a really weird guess, but, no, riding my board in the halls. It actually made a bunch of marks this time on the floor—"

"I, actually, don't care," You fulminated to the other boy. Sure, it was inconsistent—considering that you had asked him how he landed in detention—but a few days ago, you stumbled into a web of emotional entanglement after a shocking realization that seemed impossible to escape; you liked Peter Parker.

At first, it was a hard pill to swallow, a pill so confusing that you couldn't even name what was in it; it was simply an imbalanced mix of every emotion packed into something that no ordinary medicine would ever make you feel. Ironically, it never made you feel better. It only caused you to feel sick to your stomach whenever you saw Peter.

You thought it was a desire to befriend him that left you feeling that way after every interaction. Maybe after all those years of being under Flash's coercion to bully the poor guy for laughs, you had realized what you actually wanted to see—you wanted to see him by your side, walking down the hall with you. The lockers that you used to cheer Flash on for shoving him into would salute the two of you as the ringleader of bullies himself would be stuffed away into one, with no one to help him.

But the more you thought about Peter, the more you wanted him. There were times in class when you would look at him, and time would stop. It felt like you could analyze every detail on his face in just a single glance but still have so much more to see behind it. Your eyes grew to know the path of his features, where certain things turned into an abrupt dead-end only to bleed into the surrounding, insanely alluring attributes. And as your feelings grew for the nerd, so did the number of times you thought about him and how perfect he was.

Hell, you were doing it now during your talk with him, watching how he sported a smirk across his face, eyes scornfully slit with a glare to combat your rude words carelessly tossed at him. His comeback to it came out a bit stilted once he deduced that your eyes lingered on him, "Well—," he cleared his throat, "—well, thinking about riding over your face helped give the extra push my board needed. Thanks, man."

"Of course," You mused, feigning compassion for the other boy. At this point, you realized that the classroom was empty apart from you and Peter. Though, in just a few moments of silence, the door opened. A faculty member entered the classroom, the handles of two buckets hung from his grip, janitorial supplies teeming over the brim from both.

He walked to the small margin of space given by the two desks you and Peter sat at, placing one plastic pail on each desk, "Alright, Mr.Parker and Mr.(L/n). I've decided to give the both of you a punishment that I think fits well—you'll be cleaning all the desks in this room, along with a few other areas around here, too."

The teacher strode to the chalkboard at the head of the classroom, turning away from the both of you to write the areas you had to clean on the black surface. Over the loud squeak of chalk marking the solid surface and the teacher's radio cutting through with intermittent static, Peter leaned towards you, asking his own question, "Why are you here?"

"Drawing on the desks," You replied hushedly. Unfortunately, it was loud enough for the teacher to hear you talk.

"Gentlemen! I don't want to have to remind you—no less than five minutes into the class—that this is detention and not a place for—," The teacher's receiver went off, signaling that he was needed on the other side of the school. He huffed at the request and carried himself to the door, "Get to work you two, I'll be back in a little to check your progress."

You shot to your feet, standing over the bucket on your desk. Inside the pail, there were bottles of various cleansing sprays for all kinds of surfaces, a couple pairs of rubber gloves, and a few large sponges.

"Let's get this done," You stated, picking out a random bottle from the bucket and slipping on the elastic gloves with ease. Peter did the same, muttering some snarky comment under his breath that you couldn't hear.

To you and Peter's surprise, cleaning the surfaces of each desk and the chalkboards integrated into the walls turned out to be a cakewalk. You neared the last row of desks in the back of the room—where you and Peter sat—while Peter worked on cleaning a blackboard at the front of the room. Cleaning your way down the line of desks, you got to your own seat, squeezing the bottle handle as it squeaked out a few spritzes of the cleanser inside onto the wooden surface.

With the sponge in your other hand, you wiped the mixture around the desk until no dry areas remained. Peter's desk was the last one you would have to clean, and then you were done with your part of the room. You rounded your desk and moved to Peter's, following the same pattern as how you had cleaned the rest of the desks. Then, you noticed to the side of his desk sat his bag, beaten and marked up from the dirt and whatever else was on it. You laughed to yourself, thinking that this could be an easy way to mess with the other boy. You tugged at the zipper as you checked to ensure Peter wasn't looking.

On the other side of the room, Peter stood on the tips of his toes, his sneakers showing heavy creases as he tried to reach a bit of writing at the very top of the blackboard. As a result, his shirt had lifted to reveal a bit of his torso. If your jaw wasn't saved by the mercy of your mandible, it would have dropped to the floor at the sight of him. Instead, your heart plummeted to your stomach, and that feeling you had for Peter came rushing back. Your mind immediately gravitated to a myriad of thoughts dirtier than a New York alley—ones that involved Peter, on his back, with ropes of glossy white coating his abdomen.

To block those feelings and thoughts out, you turned back to his bag, hoping that messing around with him would untangle the Gordian knot in your stomach. You started pulling at the zipper again, doing it softly so that Peter wouldn't hear it. You let the small, metallic rectangle dangle on the other side of his bag once you towed it along its path, parting the pieces of fabric to reveal the inside.

Your hand went for the first thing inside the backpack, a pile of some fabric that you assumed to be an extra pair of underwear given the material. It would be a perfect way to embarrass Peter, especially since it was probably something nerdy like Spider-Man boxers—or even worse, Star Wars boxers. You slowly pulled it out of his bag, careful not to make any noise as you did.

You immediately recognized what it was, your hands running over it frantically to try and confirm that it was fake, but it was Spider-Man's mask, complete with a matching suit sitting just under it in his bag. There was no way that this wasn't genuine.

But that would mean that Peter Parker is Spider-Man. The nerd who looked like a breeze could carry him away was fighting criminals at night.

“Holy shit,” You muttered at the newfound revelation, but it was loud enough to pull Peter’s attention over to you. He had finally noticed what you were doing and dropped the eraser in his hands.

"Hey, put that back!" Peter yelled, rushing towards you with a concerned expression. You did what he said and frantically dropped it back into his bag, spewing out mindless apologies to him.

He cut you off as one of his hands cupped your mouth, his other landing on your chest to push you back against the nearest wall, "(Y/n), I need you to be honest with me. Are you going to tell anyone?"

Your eyes were wide as you shook your head. While you were surprised that Peter was Spider-Man, your mind had flown from that fact to how close Peter was to you. He had never gotten this close or this physical with you, so this contact brought a rising heat to your face as the crotch of your pants felt more restrictive than before. The smell of him poured out to you without him doing much of anything, and

His impossibly powerful grip didn't lessen; he was still unsure of whether or not he could trust you. After all, you were a bully to him and others alike, so trust wasn't something established in your relationship with him. But, the longer he held onto you, the more your attraction to him became noticeable. On his end, he could hear your heart beating faster and faster with each passing second, while you figured he was going to spot the growing tent you sported.

Peter would be lying if your proximity to one another didn't entice him too, as it distracted him from thinking straight about you knowing his secret identity. Outside of your adverse interactions, Peter cherished the moments where you two seemed to bond over something, whether you were asking him for help with the homework or quizzing each other on types of chemical equations. All of it made him wish that the social influences of high school hadn't whisked you away towards a life of making poor choices alongside the rest of the bullies stalking the halls.

Even if there wasn't a close connection between the two of you, he planned on closing the distance between you—in more ways than one. He didn't want to be the guy who admired your looks through his computer screen while editing a photo for Midtown; he had always wanted to make you right your wrongs and stand up to Flash one day. Peter wasn't sure how he would do it, but he hoped it was possible. If not for his feelings, he wanted to do it for you. He pondered over the idea of bringing you closer since the ringing of your heartbeat in his ears seemed to say it all.

While Peter's panic seemed to have slowly dissipated into nothing, your's was on the rise. Every humiliating thought worked its way into your mind since Peter was bound to notice your aversely expressed feelings for him. He would have the perfect ammunition to pluck you from your place on the school social ladder and drop you into the void of irrelevancy. Not that you cared much for it, but coming to school after this wouldn't be easy. But, as much as your mind led you to believe in one specific outcome from this whole thing, it took a turn that you didn't see coming.

Peter had let out a relieved sigh, his grip keeping you against the wall loosened. His hand didn't feel like it was about to rip your face off with one quick pull anymore; instead, he moved it to cup your face. His other hand snuck up to your shoulder to pull you away from the wall and into his embrace. This was his chance, and he decided to take it.

Your tense body loosened in line with Peter's hold on you, making it easy to place your arms around him once you were away from the wall. The simmering fear turned into enthrallment at the wonder of where he was taking this. He had brought you close to him—that was the first step—and all he had to do now was close the remaining gap between you and him.

Quickly, Peter bridged the distance between you and him with his lips pressed to yours. At first, it was only a quick peck as Peter pulled back to see your reaction, but you yanked him back onto you with a craving for more before he could even take one look at you. It just felt so easy. Easy enough to guide Peter back to his desk, his back firmly pressed to the tan hardwood surface. Your lips never left the other for even a single icy second, embracing in the warm air hitting each other's skin. It was almost hard and desperate with every repeated press to the other, like a counter for the countless years of denying the truth with anger and pity. You wouldn't be surprised if you pulled away and saw his already full lips look like he had just gotten knocked in the face.

Peter's hands slid down your body, stopping just short of your pants and letting his hands soar up the underside of your shirt, bunching it up as he went. He guided you back and peeled himself away from the desk to strip the shirt from your shoulders and over your head. Peter's shirt landed over yours a few seconds later, and he was pressing your bare back to the stiff plank of wood with metal legs as he returned to crushing your lips with a loving force. His bulge mirrored the action above as it pressed to your trouser-clad thigh.

Inbetween each kiss, he warns that you two will have to be fast through a breathy rasp. He was right—at any moment, a teacher could walk in and see the ungodly sight of the both of you pressed into each other, contaminating one of the desks.

"Okay," You huffed. Peter pulled away from you and turned to rummage through his bag on the floor. He popped his head back up, softly calling out your name to grab your attention as if the half-full bottle of lube in his hand wasn't pulling enough, "Do you want to use lube? I mean I don't know if you prepped or anything."

You sat against the edge of his desk with both hands placed at the two corners behind you for support, "No! I came for school, not sex. Why do you even have that here?"

He stood tall again, towering over you as he moved closer, "It's for the suit. Sometimes swelling from an injury won't go down, so it's useful."

You laughed and pulled him down to you for a quick peck, "I still can't believe your Spider-Man."

"You're lucky I don't have any web-fluid on me," He teased, "But I can't believe I'm really doing this." Peter placed the bottle over on your desk, his hands gravitating to the button and fly of his dark denim pants. Your eyes followed down the funnel-like shape his sex lines provided and watched in anticipation for the tease of his bulge to lose its place to the real thing hitting the classroom air. The whir of his zipper felt like it lasted forever as he parted the woven flaps and bunched the elastic waist of his boxers to let his cock free.

You could have sworn that your mouth fell open as it kept going. Peter was anything but small. The length alone was enough to make you swoon and hit every spot you could ask it to, but the girth was just as impressive. You were sure it could leave your hole gaping for days after this, and you were about to find out.

"Who knew Parker was packing?" You joked, attempting to feign any emotion created by the wave of nervousness stabbing your heart as you doubted your ability to take someone his size.

A smile grew on Peter's face as he took his painfully impressive length into his right hand and grabbed the bottle of lube with his left. He flicked open the cap with ease, giving it a few shakes to force the lube to the top of the bottle as he flipped it over. He casually squirted a thick line of lube over the top of his cock, replying to you while he did it, "I think that's the nicest thing you've said to me, like, ever."

"I'll be even nicer in a few minutes when that's destroying me from the inside-out," You joked, knowing that even with the help of the slick substance, you will probably still be crying to whatever God that sculpted Peter in their image. It was breathtaking to watch Peter's left arm flex with each tug of his equally stunning cock. Your voice softened in defeat at the realization that this was a risk, temporary, and far from the ideal way to be intimate with the nerdy guy, "But, we can't be loud, right?"

"Right," Peter agreed, stepping close to you as he let his stiffening length swing with each step. He kept his slick hand near him as he used the other to pull you onto your back and shuck off your pants and boxers, ass in view for the world to see. He tossed them down to the ever-growing pile of clothes at his feet, using the lube left on his fingers to trace over your hole. You moaned at his cold fingers lightly grazing over your entrance, your head reflexively leaning over the edge of the desk.

After a few moments of teasing your hole, Peter brought both of your feet up and over his shoulders, taking his slicked cock in hand and guiding his cockhead to it. You felt it gently graze over your hole before Peter pressed his hips forward, ushering himself into with a certain eagerness. He had to restrain his urges to turn you into a mess as payback for the years of teasing, especially since your first reaction to him stretching your ass was to let out something between the noises of a moan and cry. Peter was big. Big enough to cause an overwhelming mix of pain and pleasure.

"Hey—hey, you have to be quiet, okay?" He asks. A calloused hand imprinted on your perfect features to cover your mouth. It pained Peter to know that he couldn't hear the beautiful sounds that his size alone would emit, annoyingly muffled by the palm of his hand. Your hole would have to efficiently communicate your pleasure with each spasm and contraction against his cock.

You nodded and felt him slowly press on, stretching your ass with each passing inch. Eventually, Peter bottomed out inside you, and your assumptions about his size rang true; your small ring of pink would be left agape by the end of this. He starts to nudge his way back, putting a hand on your hip for support to pull his own hips away before driving himself deep into you.

Peter repeated himself, and his thrusts quickly increased in strength, growing more painful and pulling louder and louder noises from you, only to be muffled by the palm of his hand. Though, the smacking of skin said enough to make up for your or Peter's lack of words at the moment. You vented your pleasure into giving yourself a sloppy handjob. You could barely keep your hand taut enough to jerk your own length with each intense pounding Peter gave. This would have been the perfect moment for 'Spider-Man' to have eight arms instead of two.

As he went on, Peter moved with great stealth, letting each moan and grunt pass through his teeth to keep quiet. But, his drive to reach a climax is needy and desperate to the point where he huffed out every breath in short bursts.

Your climax came into view faster than the speed Peter embodied. And with just a few light tugs on your own cock, you shot out a few ropes of hot white release. The walls of your ass tightened around Peter's length as you did, sending Peter over his own edge.

"Fuck, fuck," He moaned while pulling out of you, making sure to keep his voice low.

Peter flipped you onto your stomach, keeping a hand on your hip. The heat from your back ruminated on the wooden desk as you gained a new look at the classroom. Everything was in your view aside from Peter, who towered over your pathetic ass as he wrapped his fingers around his cock and tugged himself towards his climax. You could feel his entire arm tremble and stiffen, hearing a loud moan echo through the silent room as the hot sensation of his release hit your lower back and the crack between your two mounds.

If it wasn't enough, a bristling feeling left the hairs on the back of your neck in pointing shock as something broad and wet ran over your perineum and slowly up between your backside. As Peter reached your lower back, he laved your skin with small laps to clean up the ropes of come he sprayed on you. He soaked in the salty and bitter flavor of your skin and his release on his tongue as you poured out a myriad of moans that were euphonic to him. He made sure to get everything and swallow it down before rising to his feet. Once you stopped feeling him messing around with your rear, you turned to see him getting dressed.

"What?" He laughed, "We gotta clean up this mess. You heard the teacher!"

"I can't believe you," You jokingly scoffed for an added effect, bending over to pick up your clothes. Peter snuck in a few glances as he pulled his shirt over his head, "So, can Spider-Man swing by later? Or should he come here tomorrow?"

1K notes · View notes

weyirn · 2 years

Text

Spidermen Preferences

They React To Having A Cosplayer Boyfriend

#male reader #spiderman x reader #spiderman x male reader #peter parker x male reader #peter x male reader #marvel x reader #marvel x male reader #marvel preferences #spidermen preferences #tasm x male reader #tasm x reader

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denim-devil · 1 year

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Andrew x reader where Andrew dresses up in tasm suit for a Halloween party and reader blows him in the bathroom because he looks so fine in the suit yup

Party Animal | P.P

A/N - I changed it up! This is going to be based on Peter instead, hope you still enjoy (it’s more of a Pete shows up in his suit before realising so you drag him away and one thing leads to another-)

~ NOT PROOF READ ~

──────. • ☆:*.☽ .* :☆ﾟ• . ──────

You usher you’re boyfriend up the stairs away from the crowd currently bouncing to the beat, you weren’t expecting him due to his…well, job, but you did encourage him enough for him to show up, even last minute.

You didn’t really expect to see the taller male dressed in his red spandex, although it did send a thrill through your body, one that you kept to yourself, although Peter had the biggest smirk plastered across his face, like a kid who had been caught in the act, almost.

“Peter- what the hell!”

You whisper harshly before lightly shoving him into the bathroom, which thankfully was free, you were scared to think otherwise.

You watch his brows furrow in confusion, surely you were happy to see him right? Or maybe it was because he was running late…fuck what did he do now?

“Peter…why did you come in…that”

You watch the brunette turn to face the mirror, only realising now why you were so hasty before. Fuck how could he be so stupid, what if someone caught even a glimpse, although it to sent a thrill down his spine, only you knew, and that was good enough for him.

“I- oh my god, I’m so so sorry- uh-“

He glares down at you, his lips creating an “o” shape, one that suggested how surprised he was in himself, how careless he was becoming, you guessed it had been a tricky one so you had to let him off.

You take a big breath before exhaling, smiling up at him.

“Don’t be sorry- I’m sure you were busy, saving the world an all”

He chuckles before bringing a spandex-clad hand to cup you’re chin, pointing it up enough for him to bend down slightly allowing him to push his lips on top of your own.

You immediately forgot where you were, more interesting in the way Peter so carelessly pushed you up against the locked door, deepening the kiss, his tongue, wet and warm invading you’re mouth like it belonged there.

Your small moan was enough indication for Peter to pull away with that smug little smirk, you notice the light dusting of pink on his cheeks, and the slightly growing shadow between his legs, clearly it had been a stressful day, but it wasn’t anything you couldn’t solve.

“I miss you- I miss this…I hate patrolling on a night”

He mutters against your cheek before making his way over to your neck, his lips latching onto them, teeth suckling on the soft skin. You’re hands bury themselves in his thick, brown hair, tugging on it once it got to much.

“Pete…please-“

He stopped, now travelling further until he breathed against your ear, a shiver rolling down your spine once his hands turn your body, you’re front now resting against the cool wood of the bathroom door.

“Tell me what you need, I wanna make you feel good…”

You sigh before tucking yourself away into your arms, mumbling inaudible words. Peter huffed, smiling sweetly before twisting you’re head gently to face him. Fuck you were a mess already.

“Come on, tell me, I wanna know- sweetheart?”

You lock eyes, staring at him with the slight twinkle of obedience, it was enough to let Peter know you were prepared to do almost anything for him, as he was you, fuck he was desperate enough.

“I- I want you to…uh…to-“

Peter knew exactly what you wanted but he needed to hear it, he craved to hear it, he needed that clarification.

“You can do better then that baby- I know it”

You nod before recollecting yourself, pushing yourself back onto the growing mound forming in his suit. He groans, half chuckling, half moan, it’s like he tried to refrain from just pinning you to the door and taking charge.

“I want you, I want your cock…I want it so bad Pete oh my god…”

He nods, his clothed fingers already making work of you’re belt. You nod which only gives him the heads up that you wanted him to take charge, to seize whatever this was right now.

He watched you lean back against his front, your little shorts leaving little to imagination, he loved that, how easy it was to get you like this, it was cute and it had him weak in the knees.

Once you’re belt was undone, he pushed the soft fabric of your shorts down, allowing them to pool around your ankles.

You felt naked, vulnerable yet so fucking safe in his hands.

“Commando…?”

Peter trailed of, his eyes widening at the sight, fuck, there it was. His hands desperately pawed at the globes of soft muscle, pushing them apart.

You nod before turning to him once again.

“I- I just thought…”

He pecked you on the cheek before turning his attention back to you’re ass.

“You look…amazing”

Peter’s hands managed to spread you’re cheeks just enough for his face to slot perfectly between them, dipping to his knees, he hovered for just a second, taking it all in.

“Baby…I- this is…you look so hot-“

His tongue eagerly laps over your flexing hole, the thin coating of saliva already felt cooling on the skin.

Another lap, this time it was gentle and slow as if he was savouring the taste, you’re sweetness.

Even with the blaring music, it couldn’t take away the attention you had on Peter, every wiggle and flick of his tongue, every sweet moan that managed to escape his occupied lips.

One of you’re hands managed to find his hair, burying itself deep, deep enough to hold him there, not that he minded, fuck he could spend all day there, breathing you in, eating every last ounce of you out until you couldn’t stand anymore.

Pulling away slightly, his nose bumped into the outskirts of your pucker, the breaths he released tickling you. It all felt way too close and that, that drove you insane, he was hungry, so fucking hungry.

“You…you taste so- so good, I love you”

He ushered out before continuing his attack, his tongue now leaving long, wide laps beginning from the top of your ass all the way up to you’re taint.

Before he could continue, you manage to pull him away just enough to break whatever spell you had managed to put on him.

“Pete-“

You breathed before dropping to your knees in haste, you’re eyes now level with his crotch. It all happened rather quickly but coincidentally followed the beat of the music.

“I’m aching…for you”

He whispers softly, watching carefully as your fingers trail over the growing mound at the front of his suit. You resume with your movements, smiling gently, reassuring almost allowing Peter to sink into your touch.

The suit was hardly an obstacle, your fingers managing to separate the flaps of his suit keeping you from him.

Peter’s lips turn up into a small smile. With a course thump, you watch his cock flop back up into his abdomen, the tip leaking with a clear substance, it was red and angry, bulbous as if he was waiting for you to envelope him.

Your eyes are drawn to the thick, throbbing vein that ran from base to tip. You watch the older male bite at his bottom lip once you raise slightly from your knees, lips hovering over his tip.

A gentle “fuck” slipping from his lips only encourages your libido.

You take the head of his cock lightly into your mouth. You spread your tongue around his shaft creating a slick cavern, one that had Peter rutting further forwards until your nose settled in the neatly trimmed bush at his base.

His head falls back, mouth hanging agape. His spandex-clad hands settled on your scalp, forcing you to keep him. He was usually soft but with all the stress from his patrolling and city escapades, he couldn’t hold himself back, not when you were so willing.

The approving moans from him pushed you further, sucking him like a lollipop, long, drawn out pushes of your throat only encouraging the coil growing in the pit of his stomach to break.

His hands helped figure out a rhythm, one that had your throat contracting around his girth, globs of saliva slipping past your open lips, messing up both your shirt and trousers.

“Always so willing- so pretty baby”

You stop, allowing your throat to engulf him whole, his balls resting against your moist chin. The mess included with your tears has Peter dizzy, almost hazy.

“So close- so so fucking close”

Tears streamed down you’re cheeks, you’re face flushed and eyes wide. You still stared up at him, watching the pleased expression written all over his face.

It took one last thrust for Peter, one. He buried himself deep, like a sword and it’s sheath. You struggled to breath but you revelled in it, in the pain running up across you’re aching jaw, at the saliva cascading over you’re chin, soaking you’re clothes.

The sight in itself, the red cheeks, the tears, the runny nose, the messy hair…all of it had Peter sink incredibly deep, coming with a groan of you’re name, it was slightly incoherent but you accepted it, allowing load after load hit the back of you’re throat.

Peter’s eyes open, his bliss-like state still reminiscent, rolling in the haze of pleasure that you brought, only you.

Patting you’re cheek, he pulls out, allowing his spit-slicked cock to flop, resting against you’re neck. His thumb travels across you’re puffy, abused lips, feeling up his own handy work, it made him proud but also…you’ve never looked prettier.

“Only you…so fucking grateful for you, com’ere”

You slowly picked yourself up from the floor until you were facing his chest. He dipped his head, allowing you’re lips to clash, capturing the moment of glory that just passed, Peter didn’t want this night to end, not yet…

#male reader #x male reader #tasm!peter parker #peter parker #the amazing spider man #spider-man #andrew garfield #tasm #smut #fluff #soft!peter #SOFT TOPS ARE MY EVERYTHING

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