#andrew garfield x you
Note
Hi!! Requesting a spicy tasm!peter fic where he puts his photography skills to use if ya know what I mean 🔥🫶🏽
his muse; {p.p.}
Pairing: peter parker x f!reader (gif is tasm but you can interpret this as any peter parker)
Summary: peter puts his photography skills to use when you're naked
Warnings: established relationship, smut, vaginal fingering/sex, oral sex (blowjob), praise kink (if you squint), photos during sex, language, unprotected sex, 18+, NSFW
Word Count: 3.8k
A/N: hi. i love this trope So Much… like more than you will ever know, but bc i love it and i’ve seen it done multiple times with peter i was very scared to even do anything with it sjnksks but here is my finished product, i hope you like it~
(Also- it is my gift to anyone who actually likes reading my content bc ive been gone for a While and will be gone for another 2-3 weeks bc finals are not fun! so i hope this is good, enjoy!)
You’re putting away your shared laundry when you hear a loud noise on your window sill. You don’t even flinch this far into your relationship and only shake your head, separating your clothes from his. The window opens letting in a cool breeze and Peter’s book bag hits the ground before he gets inside.
It's only then you look and give his body, clad in his suit, a scan and smile. “You okay?” You ask. The sun already set and the crisp winter air started to fill the room.
He scoffs before shutting the window. You turn your body around from the basket in front of you to see Peter shaking his head while taking his camera out of his bag.
The professional camera Peter spent a year saving up for when he was 18 was sat next to your much less efficient Polaroid camera. On it, there was a photo of you two celebrating your anniversary together recently. The flash showing you kissing Peter on the cheek, he’s blushing at the attention and eyes closed from the flash.
Peter smiled at the memory before he continued speaking.
“Why do people think it’s okay to commit crime when I’m just getting off my shift?” He sighed before setting down his bag next to your bed.
“They’re so inconsiderate,” You pout playfully while folding his clothes into his reserved drawer at your place.
Peter looks up from unpacking and focuses on your ass poking up from your position. You feel his eyes on you as your t-shirt hangs loosely on your body, and the hair on your legs prick up from the cold in the room.
Peter takes off his mask revealing his disheveled hair and takes in the sight of you like it’s his last.
Your lacy underwear decorating the plump flesh of your butt, reminding Peter of how quickly he had to leave this morning before getting to appreciate for bandaging him up last night.
His eyes continued to scan up, seeing the old t-shirt frame your shape, admiring it as if he had x-ray vision.
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”
Peter is brought out of his thoughts hearing your soft voice, taunting him for his staring problem.
“Don’t tempt me,” Peter quips back. He shakes his head before tossing his mask in your empty hamper. Sitting on your bed and bending over to remove his boots, his ears don’t miss your footsteps as you saunter to him.
You place your feet in between his while he looks back up to you, removing the rest of his suit.
“It’s never stopped you before,” You cross your arms while he slips out of his suit, leaving his web shooters on. The suit is strewn across the floor and your eyes focus on Peter’s body.
No matter how beat up he was, Peter remains to be the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. You ran your hands over his, now, yellow ribs. Compared to the purple constellation he had yesterday, you were grateful for his superhuman healing.
He had a nasty fall yesterday, left with some scars and bruising, but thankfully this time you didn’t have to stitch him up.
You even notice the scratch on his arm is almost gone but Peter liked wearing your special bandaids. He likes giving you a reason to buy more cartoon ones for him.
Peter watches your eyes carefully scan his body for anything else and adores you for it. Still, he hates making you worry.
“You weren’t naked before.”
A smile creeps up on your face, a giggle disguised as a scoff when you answer: “I’m not naked.”
You don’t realize you set yourself up for Peter’s response until he smirks. His hands snake up underneath your shirt to toy with your nipples, already hard because of the cold air lingering in the room.
A hiss escapes your mouth at feeling his larger, colder hands grip your boobs. Peter slightly grins at his effect on you. He pulls at the bottom of your shirt before raising it up your body. You oblige, pulling it over your head to toss it across your room.
His face lit up at your frontal nudity, hands placed on either side of your hips tugging at your underwear.
“Let’s change that.”
You roll your eyes at his response, but not without a smile plastered on your face. You could feel the heat pooling in between your thighs and the excitement in your stomach.
“What position should I be in?” You shudder under his callus fingers. Peter lightly furrows his eyebrows when you turn, gesturing to your polaroid camera from your bedside table.
His face relaxes when he registers what you guys are doing, not realizing how serious you were being.
Your eyes flicker up and down his body when you turn to face him, noticing his erection bulging out of his briefs. Leaning down you use your hand to palm him through the fabric, feeling his cock pulsate in your hand.
“On your knees,” You whip your head up when Peter says that, his hands still roaming around your body.
You quirk your eyebrow up in response. Pressing your forehead and nose to his, you plant a kiss onto his lips. Your hands are now on either of his thighs, sinking lower onto the ground as the kiss deepens.
Before you can fully get down, you hear a light thwip and break the kiss.
You see Peter’s wrist is flicked out with his web shooters activated, latched on to your polaroid camera. There’s a glint of mischief in his eyes before he pulls it into his hands.
Resting on your knees, you’re before him with your fingers tracing the waistband of his boxers. You carefully watch for his reactions, but he’s refamiliarizing himself with your flimsy camera you got in your teenage years as a novelty.
You cross your arms on his legs and look up at him, the camera points at you and all you can focus on is his wide smile behind the camera. “Let’s see if I still know how this works,” Peter jokes.
You repose with both your hands on your knees, pushing your breasts out in between your arms. You didn’t realize they were hardly the focus of the photo (but still included, Peter was only human after all).
The photo snaps and you remember you have to get used to the flash again. Blinking a few times to get used to the discomfort, the photo prints out and Peter seems pleased with himself already.
“It hasn’t even developed yet,” You taunt, you resume palming him as you assume that was the extent of his practice shots.
Peter shrugs while shaking the photo as gently as possible. “Hey, who’s the photographer here? I know a good subject when I see it,” He nudges you.
When the photo barely develops, he shows you and you see yourself: half naked on your knees with your face fully in the photo. You were surprised he included that much of your face, and managed to catch you looking as confident as you could. But it was easy when Peter was behind the camera, he never fails to make you feel like his only muse.
You blush and look away from the photo as you continue to massage him. Peter’s breath hitches at the rate at which you go at, and you smirk to yourself.
No matter how much control Peter took in bed, he wasn’t afraid to show you how quickly he’d fold for you. It was one of the many things you appreciated about him. Another one was just how vocal he was, his whimpers before you even got to touch him were making your underwear dampen.
When his dick starts twitching, you pull his boxers down, his cock slaps up to his stomach while he watches your movements. Locking eyes with him, you wrap both your hands around his shaft before slowly jacking him off.
You’re mesmerized by the way his body is flexed under your touch, you almost don’t hear what he says.
“Your mouth,” He breathes out.
You sit up higher on your knees and kiss up his happy trail, lingering when you get closer to his cock. You hear his groan and look up, meeting his eyes.
You raise your eyebrows. “My mouth, what?”
Your lips quirk up again, teasing him. “Use your words.”
He rolls his eyes in response but you shake your head. “I can stop,” You remind him.
His brown eyes almost bulge out his head when you say that, wrapping his own hand over yours to stop your movements from pausing. He leans over to get closer to your face, the scent of you surrounding him. Peter’s face softens at your smugness.
“Baby,” He starts. You wait to listen to how he pleads for you to stay while he leads your hands.
“I need that pretty mouth of yours to suck my cock,” He gasps out and removes his hand when you loosen your wrist in response. Your eyes soften at the praise and Peter mentally celebrates when he leans back to his original position.
You reposition yourself as well, with your neck getting to work as you lick a stripe underneath the shaft of his cock. Peter sharply inhales at the feeling and brings his head back up.
You lock eyes with him when you feel the jolt in his body and open your mouth in an ‘O’ shape around the head of his cock.
Relaxing your throat, you lower your head on his length and feel the tip of his cock hitting your uvula before you begin bobbing your head.
Caught off guard, you could taste the saltiness of his precum on your tongue now. You gagged a bit and popped off him to lick it off in the most obscene way you could think of.
Peter mutters, “Just like that.” and you look up.
Forgetting he had a camera, the shutter went off to capture your tongue on the underside of his wet tip.
You collect more saliva in your mouth while you run your hand up and down his shaft. Feeling prepared enough, you go back down on him with the drool dripping on his cock on your hands.
Peter went crazy at the heat of your mouth and the sight of your lips around him. The only thought he had was to get the camera out again to keep this moment forever.
Getting slack jawed at this, he tangles his hands in your hair but doesn’t change your pace. He only starts pushing it out of your face as it gets in the way.
You look up at him and see Peter pointing the camera at you as you have half his cock in your mouth. The first shot is taken, and he tries to not move too much as the photo prints out immediately. He releases a few breathy moans at the pace you're going at while he places the new photo on the side.
Peter silently gestures to you to get him out your mouth so you release him with a pop, flipping your hair to the side as you continue to jack him off.
“That’s good,” He mutters, when he places the camera at his eye before snapping a new photo.
“I probably look insane,” You grumble, already feeling self conscious at how messy your hair looks, coupled alongside the drool and precum at your mouth.
Peter shakes his head and pulls you in closer by your waist and you yelp, finding yourself now pinned under him on the bed.
“Never,” He shakes his head, attaching his mouth to your tit as he pulls your underwear off. You immediately moan at his aggression on your sensitive nipples and he chuckles against your skin when he feels you flinch.
Peter’s calloused hands find your clit and start massaging it, and you throw your head back in pleasure when he finds his rhythm.
You feel a twinge of disappointment when he removes his mouth from your tits but you look up to see the camera watching you, and a shutter going off before you are even ready.
“Pete,” You warn. Your sternness doesn’t last when he slips in a finger in your embarrassingly wet cunt. You almost mewl at how full he makes you with just one finger.
“You looked so pretty moaning like that,” Peter explains while his finger curls into you. He knew what he was doing when he smiled again, leaning down to kiss you on the lips.
Your annoyance was no match for his desperation as you eventually gave in. One of his hands cupped your cheek while his lips were frantic on yours. He’s greedy for you, almost lapping up your tongue with his own before he pulls away.
“Just let go, forget the camera is even there,” He mumbles in your neck when you gasp at the absence of his lips.
He slips in another finger and thrusts faster, making you nod mindlessly as you surrender all control.You grip onto his bicep as he pumps in and out of you, begging him for more friction. You can hear how wet you were, and while you were embarrassed, Peter relished in it.
“Can you take a third for me baby?” He asks in a low voice as he sits up on the bed in between your legs. You nod vigorously but he quickly removes both fingers.
You open your mouth to complain but instead yelp out when Peter pulls both your legs closer to his chest as he kneels on the mattress. He set aside the camera briefly.
“Yeah?” He searches for an answer.
“Yes,” You grunt out, already desperate for much more than his fingers.
He massages your heat with his fingers again before he inserts three fingers in, jolting your body to sit up. You let out an obscene moan and couldn’t help but to massage your clit while he fucks you with his fingers.
One hand being in competition with Peter’s while the other massages your boobs, you’re almost too dazed to notice the shutter then went off while you were closer to an orgasm.
“Fucking incredible,” Peter breathes out before putting the camera with the new photo down, and leans down to kiss you. His pace never falters, making you whimper against his lips.
“I’m about to cum,” You announce shakily. Peter swallows your pleas with a kiss and just curls his fingers against your g-spot faster. You feel that familiar build up in the pit of your stomach and the pace of your clenching pick up.
“Cum all over my fingers baby,” He answers, and you immediately let go. You hold Peter closer as you cum, heaving underneath him like you’re in heat. Your body Peter continues to finger you but only because he loves the way you suction around him.
He still lets you come down from your high, kissing you through it and massaging your breasts with his free hand during. When your breathing slows down, he sits back up and removes his fingers from you.
“Need you inside of me,” You remind him as you reach over to palm his already hard cock against his stomach.
“Gonna let me cum inside of you?” He asks, holding his cock in his hand already glistening with your wetness. He readjusts to line himself up to your pussy awaiting your answer.
You cock your head with your arms supporting your body from the bed. “I’ll let you cum wherever you want,” You say.
Peter grunts at your answer before inserting himself into your entrance, and immediately throws his head back at the feeling, your warmth and wetness engulfing him.
“So fucking tight,” He comments, and you silently agree as you feel yourself stretching out on him. Your eyes fluttered shut as you clenched around him.
“Fuck,” you moan out as he finds a comfortable pace for the both of you.
Or that’s what you thought.
You hear a shutter from your camera and realize he took a picture (or two) of you in this position beneath him, moaning out for him flat on the bed with his cock inside of you.
You didn’t have time to care as when he got his shots he immediately started to rock into you, and you felt the strength of him against your thighs before he picked up the pace.
You watch him thrust into you and slowly lose himself above you.
“I love the way you feel around me,” He pants out, closing in on your body with his forearms framing your face. You nod as the bed squeaks and your hands roam his body, stopping at his shoulders and the nape of his neck.
Peter obliges to your physical demands and dips down to suck on your neck, causing you to whimper as your body continues to jolt from his thrusts. His soft brown hair tickles your skin as his teeth chew at the sensitive skin in your neck. You don’t know whether to giggle or moan, but you’re vocal regardless.
“Go faster,” You whine, becoming impatient with him.
“I’m not gonna last if I go faster,” He growls against your skin, sending vibrations down your spine. He thrusted slower, bringing his hand down to the back of your knee to bend it closer to your body. You felt him hitting your g-spot repeatedly that you knew you weren’t going to last any longer like that.
“I don’t care,” You cry out. Peter scoffs in your neck as if to say a begrudging ‘Fine.’ and kisses you on the cheek before kneeling back up. He’s already twitching inside you before he begins thrusting again. You almost forget what you got yourself into until you feel his balls slap against your cunt repeatedly.
A string of curses escape both your mouths, yours because he’s just so big and you can feel the tension build up in your stomach again. Peter’s cusses are because you just won’t stop clenching around him in response, he feels like he might burst the next time you tighten around him.
“Fuck, fuck fuck,” He mutters before spilling into you.
You go slack jawed at the feeling of him cumming inside of you. It feels hot between your thighs, in between the burning feeling of his hard thighs slapping against your softer ones, and feeling him twitch and coat your insides and the outside of your cunt with his load.
You cry out as he almost slips out of you, but realize he’s gonna take another picture. You’re not sure what to do, or what exactly he’s capturing but you decide to listen to his earlier advice and let it happen. Peter places the camera on his eye while his cock almost goes soft half away inside of you, and you can feel him rubbing his cum around your thighs and up your hips.
He mutters another curse, before snapping the picture. You close your eyes and your legs when you decide that that was the last photo and miss how Peter compiles all of them on your bedside table.
Eventually, you look up and see him pulling back up his underwear and beckoning you to see the photos. When you get up and see 6 photos lined up from tonight.
One of you on your knees, your breasts protruding and almost being the main focus of the photo if it wasn't for your face. You want to laugh at how excited your eyes looked but you know it was only because of who was behind the camera.
Two more during and after the blowjob, one of you in the middle taking Peter in your mouth and giving the camera (but really, Peter) siren eyes. The other was you slightly disheveled, but Peter swore you were the prettiest girl in the world with drool around your mouth.
A third of you being fingered, your head is thrown back in unfiltered pleasure from his fingers, your breasts sitting high on your chest as you’re on your back and your nipples were glistening in the photo due to the suckling that happened off camera. While scanning this photo, you realize that being caught in the moment wasn’t such a bad thing and Peter is silently celebrating he caught your O face in action.
The fourth was similar but you had more control over your pleasure as you’re on camera massaging your breasts and hand on your pussy. You feel like a vixen with the way you’re fondling yourself, Peter silently agrees as he knows you look like one.
Fifth and sixth photo show the before and after of Peter fucking you senseless. Fifth with your body being still underneath his, and the photo displaying that exhilarating feeling you both get when your bodies meet in the first thrust. And the sixth photo when you’re both comfortable enough to come down from your high together. The sticky, white cum is slayed over your sopping, wet pussy and Peter’s fingers and cock in the frame to remind you who fucks you like this.
“Do you like these? I can burn them away if you don’t,” Peter runs his hands through his hair nervously, not trying to make you uncomfortable if the bit had gone too far.
You only shake your head with a laugh bubbling in your throat at his consideration and hug his much taller frame from behind. It felt good to rest your head on his back, while his arms engulf yours from the front.
“I love them, I love you,” You speak low but loudly enough so he can hear, and feel, your words.
“Which ones do you want to keep?” He asks.
You know it’s out of courtesy, just one of those things you two got used to asking each other after taking pictures on this camera. You kept the silly anniversary photo while he kept the very nice one he took of you.
“It’s all for you,” You answer. Peter sputters quickly, turning back around to see your face when you say it, you only nod in full seriousness.
He leans down to kiss your cheek as a thank you and you only smile back.
“I think you’d get more use out of it than me,” You add with a tinge of humor. Peter only plays it off with another suggestion while hugging you from the front. His arms wrap around your shoulders while you rest your head in the crook of his neck.
“You know what though?” He asks, trailing his hands down to your naked hips, stopping to cup the round of your ass.
“What?” You mutter in his hold, already feeling your body heat up at the thought of round 2.
Peter smirks before snaking one of his hands to your pussy. Knowing that you’re about to start throbbing, at the thought of him. You gasp before he speaks and he chuckles while he proposes his new idea.
“I think it’s only fair if we make a movie now.”
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tasm! Peter just kissing reader any chance he gets, like she comes home with groceries? kiss. she wakes up next to him? kiss. its like Peter has an addiction haha
here you go! i love writing for peter so send more. this is kind of short but cute i think | fem!reader, 0.6k words
It’s hard to tell whether it’s still too early to be up or stretching into the late morning. Your eyes are bleary with sleep, and open gradually; the light streaming in from your apartment windows, though soft and warm, feels blinding.
As soon as your eyes open you see Peter, lying opposite to you. He’s staring at you, intensely focusing on your face, and his arm, you now notice, is tucked under your side. If it was anyone else you’d be worried about hurting them, but it would be very hard for you to hurt Peter. You’re well aware that he’s not invincible - have patched up too many scratches and wounds to be that delusional - but being Spiderman has its perks.
“Hi,” you say quietly, clearing your throat.
“Was waiting for you to wake up so I could kiss you.” Peter’s voice is thick with morning. Gravelly. Deep. It’s very attractive, but you don’t tell him that. You just smile at his tenderness and try to squeeze closer, bury your head in his chest. He doesn’t let you, reaching his free arm to gently push your chin up with his fingers. He forces you into eye contact, locking his honey-brown gaze on you before he lets it drop down to your lips. You nod just barely in silent permission, and he leans in to give you a warm, sweet kiss. It’s a while before you break away, but Peter’s not done; he peppers the entire area around and on your mouth with tiny little kisses, showering you with affection. You preen at the praise and don’t try to push him away, waiting until he stops. When he does, he’s the one to bury his head into your chest, nuzzling into you.
“We need to get up, Pete. Have to go get groceries,” you say into his hair, and he groans in response.
“Don’t want to…” he trails off, but rolls over onto the other side of the bed to put on his glasses.
“You can stay here if you want. We only need a few things, I don’t mind going on my own.” He hums in response.
“I should probably go for a run or something. Need to get out of the house,” he says, running his hands through his hair and getting up to put clothes on. You do the same, and soon you’re both about to leave the house. “Kiss before you go?” he pleads, and you can’t help but oblige. He leans in to kiss you, a small peck but full of love nonetheless.
You go off on your respective errands. Yours is a quick walk to the grocery store (where you spend more time than expected, courtesy of shopping on an empty stomach). Peter goes for a run, just a brief one to burn some morning energy. He comes back before you do, hopping in the shower. He gets out right as you arrive home.
“I’m home, Pete! Sorry, got distracted. They had a sale on your favorite bagels, so I had to get some, then I figured you needed more-”
You’re cut off by Peter appearing into the entryway and immediately pressing a kiss to your lips. You’re startled but reciprocate, pulling away only to rest your forehead against his. He’s only halfway dressed, and you still have a bagful of groceries in your hand.
“Sorry. Can’t help it,” Peter says into your lips, nuzzling your nose with his. “You’re- you’re fine,” you reply. Truth is, he’s more than fine. You willingly sustain his constant desire, addiction, to kiss you. Little does he know, it’s the best part of your day.
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Most of the time I don't make requests but I have a request. Can you do like a Peter Parker x sick reader. Where like Peter was doing night patrol and came home to the reader asleep on the floor in the bathroom but like whining in her sleep because her head and stomach hurts. So Peter picks them up and they hug him so tight and tells him it hurts. Peter does everything in his power to make it stop hurting but you end up going to the doctor and find out they have a new virus that takes 2 weeks to recover from but a week before it isn't contagious any more. So Peter Parker has to take care of them for 2 weeks because she has it really bad.
It's ok if you wanna do this I realize its super long or you can just do a part of it.
AN | Being ill is no fun, but Peter would take the best care of you 🥰❤️
Pairing | tasm!Peter Parker x Fem!Reader
Warnings | Language
Word Count | 2.3k
Masterlist | Main | Peter
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
You knew that something was off as soon as you’d gotten home from work. Realistically it had been before that; you’d started to feel off earlier in the day but you’d been able to play if off. But now, as you were home alone and getting ready for bed, it was starting to get worse and you really wished that Peter was home.
But your golden hearted and wonderful boyfriend was out on patrol and you weren’t selfish enough to call him and ask him to come home just for your sake. Whatever it was, you were sure you’d be over it by the morning. That was your thought process as you pulled on your pajamas and slipped into bed. He’d be home soon, and then everything would be better.
After a bit of restless tossing and turning you were still not feeling any better, you decided to get up and get a cup of tea in the hope that would help your nausea to calm down. It didn’t help much but the feeling you liked the feeling of the hot liquid. You tried to read, which served as a distraction.
Eventually it all became too much and nothing you did worked to relieve the weird way you were feeling. When you felt the bile rising in your throat, you ran into the bathroom throwing up the contents of your stomach. It was horrible, but then again throwing up had to be one of the worst things in the world full stop.
When you felt like you had nothing left, you plopped onto the floor and sat next to the tub. You flushed the toilet and wiped the back of your mouth with your sleeve.
There wasn't even enough energy in your tired body to get up and rinse out your mouth and brush your teeth. Instead, you slumped against the cool porcelain of the bathroom and eventually drifted off to sleep. You didn't bother to crawl back to bed, figuring you'd do it once you woke up.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Peter knew that something was off as soon as he landed on the fire escaped outside the apartment window. When he peeked into the bedroom he didn't find your sleeping form on the bed. That caused him to frown deeply and slide into the room fast as lightning.
"Sweetheart?" He stripped off the mask and tossed it to the side, not even bothering with the suit. He listened to the quiet stillness of the apartment for a few minutes before he only heard your heartbeat.
He followed it to the bathroom and as soon as he stepped inside his heart shattered. You were on the floor, curled into a ball and shivering slightly, a few sounds of discomfort leaving your lips.
"Oh no," he sank to his knees at your side in an instant, gently brushing the hair out of your face, "hey honey, I'm home."
You stirred at the sound of his voice and his warm touch, opening your bleary eyes every so slightly. Despite how truly horrible you felt, your heart lifted when you saw that it was Peter, "hey spider-boy."
"What's going on, sweetheart?" He turned your face up to his, brow furrowing in concern, "why didn't….you should have called."
"Didn't wanna bother you, Petey," your words were a tired, sleepy jumble of words and if the boy hadn't been so preoccupied, he might have laughed. His only concern at the moment was making sure you were okay, "'s nothing."
"It doesn't look like nothing," he sighed softly as he put his hand against your forehead and cheeks. You were definitely running hot, "okay, first things first - I'm taking you to bed and you're going to sleep. When you wake up, we'll assess the damage and see what's going on."
"Hmmm," you hummed in amusement, despite your worn out state, "you're gonna take me to bed?"
"I…" he paused for a moment, halfway to pulling you up to his chest, "you're feeling this shitty and still making a sex joke?"
"Can you blame me?" You wrapped your arms around his neck and clung onto him tightly, as though he was your lifeline. You supposed in some ways he really was, "you're so hot."
"So are you," he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head and you burrowed your face deeper into his neck, "metaphorically and literally right now."
He walked into the bedroom and gently laid you back in bed, making sure you were all tucked in and had all of your favorite pillows. You already felt a little better, just being somewhere more comfortable than the bathroom floor and with him home. When he started to walk away you made a small sound of discontent, “will you stay, please?”
“Of course,” he promised, “I’m just going to grab a few things and I’ll be right back.”
He popped back over and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead before padding back to the kitchen. Peter figured it was a good day to have some provisions at the ready in case you needed them. He wasn’t always a planner or the most organized, but when it came to you, he wasn’t taking any chances, and often treated you like you were the finest porcelain.
You opened an eye when he came back into the room, water bottles in his arms, along with painkillers, tissues, vaporub, and an emergency trashcan…just in case. He put everything on your nightstand before walking to the other side of the bed and crawling in next to you. Peter pulled you into his arms, wrapping himself around you so he could warm you up. You always called him your personal heater and that little benefit to his powers served as a benefit more often than not.
“Try and get some rest,” he whispered, pressing a few kisses along your shoulder, “it’ll all be better than in the morning.”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Turns out that Peter Parker was a liar. Not intentionally of course, but you know, still.
“It’ll be okay,” you croaked at him, throat dry and scratchy on top of everything else, “I’ll just push-”
When you woke up, you felt miserable, even worse than the night before. And, even Peter reluctantly admitted that you looked pretty bad.
“You’ll stay right here,” he insisted firmly and all you could do was pout at him, but gave him an affirmative nod. There was no use arguing with Peter Parker, “I’ll take care of you. You’re not in a state to be doing anything, and I’m going to take care of you.”
“Thank you,” you slumped in your chair and let out a small sigh…being sick was the worst. But at least you had Peter there, “Pete? Can we have some toaster waffles and hot chocolate?”
“Of course,” he chuckled fondly, “whatever you want, baby.”
By the time you managed to keep some breakfast down, you were exhausted again. After little convincing by your wonderful golden retriever of a boyfriend, you had taken a bath, and gotten back into bed. You had hoped that you would start to feel a little better, but nothing happened. You felt just as bad as the night before, despite trying to put on a brave face.
Peter grew concerned, but tried to hide it as best as he could. He knew that you didn’t have any sort of speed healing and recovery like he did, but you definitely should have started to feel better by now. He decided to keep his worries to himself and just keep on taking care of you.
But when another couple of days had passed and you weren’t any better, he’d had enough. He might have been a genius, but even he couldn’t figure out what was going on. But he wasn’t going to sit around and leave you to suffer and he was going to take matters into his own hands.
“I don’t wanna go to the doctor,” you frowned deeply at him, on the verge of tears. You were frustrated but not with him, “I’ll be okay.”
“I don’t like the fact that you’re not feeling any better and its been days,” he shook his head, “I know you don’t want to go, but I think this would be best. Will you go, please? For me? I know it’s being selfish but I would feel a lot better if you just got checked out.”
“Fine,” you agreed reluctantly. You loved him so deeply, even if he was being too much, “for you.”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
You ended up having to stay at the hospital for a few days while they ran a bunch of tests. You were annoyed with Peter at first because none of this would have happened if not for you but you were also deeply thankful for him. You were slowly starting to feel the tiniest bit better.
Turns out that you didn’t just have some flu or cold, you’d managed to come down with an uncommon stomach virus. You couldn’t even remember the name, it was so odd, but at least you knew what was wrong. They gave you some medicine and made sure you were plenty hydrated before sending you home. It should be better within another week or two; you almost cried at that. But Peter had promised to stay with you and take care of you.
You’d worried that you’d get him sick, despite his insistence that he would be fine with his enhanced immune system. And, the lucky part was that the virus wasn’t super contagious, but of course, naturally, you’d managed to catch it. C’est la vie, non?
“You’re a saint,” you wrapped your arms around him in a tight hug when you were back home, squishing yourself into his body as much as humanly possible, “for putting up with me for so long. Even though I know I’m whiny and annoying.”
“Hardly a saint,” he scoffed playfully, peppering your face in kisses, “what about all the times you’ve taken care of me, huh? This doesn’t even come close to all of that. And you’re always whiny-”
“Hey! Be nice, Parker, I’m ill.”
“I’m kidding,” he promised tenderly, “besides, you’ve been dealing with this weird bug so I think you’re allowed to whine a little bit.”
“I love you,” you sighed softly, looking up into his big brown eyes. He really was the loveliest, “so, so much Peter. You’re the best.”
“I love you, sweetheart,” he brushed his knuckles over your cheek, practically glowing under your praise, “I hope you know that I would do anything for you.”
“I do,” you took his hand and laced your fingers through his, “I would do the same for you. No hesitation.”
“I know,” and he did. Everything you did, you did with love and grace. No one had ever made him feel the way that you did, “but for now, let’s get you into bed so you can rest and I’ll make some soup.”
“Will you make-”
“Matzo ball soup?” he finished for you as you nodded, “I have Aunt May’s recipe. Coming right up.”
“You, Peter Benjamin Parker, are amazing,” you grinned as he started to herd you towards the bedroom.
“I’ll remind you of that the next time you get annoyed with me!”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
You ended being down and out for another week and a half, but fortunately had started to feel better little by little. You really didn’t know what you would have done without Peter. He worked from home and Spider-Man duties took a backseat. You were worried that New York City would need him more than you did, but he promised things would be okay without him. Luckily, for your own sanity, he was right.
“Peter,” you woke up before him for once, and felt…normal. Well - almost normal, but a million times better than you had been. You laid your face near his on your pillow and grinned at him, waiting for him to look at you. You knew he wasn’t that deeply asleep, “Parker.”
“Baby,” the corner of his mouth tugged up and he wrapped an arm around your waist, “baby, baby, baby,”
“Petey,” you leaned over and gave him a soft kiss, “I feel…good.”
That captured his attention and he peeked an eye open to study your face. You looked better too - more well rested, more full of energy and life, “that’s the best thing I’ve heard. I’m glad you’re feeling better, sweetheart.”
“And it’s all thanks to you!”
“And modern medicine.”
“You and modern medicine!” the two of you shared a laugh as he gently pulled you on top of him, his arms snaking around your waist, “thank you for taking such good care of me.”
“Ahh, nothing to thank me for.”
“You know, I’m actually going to miss having you around all the time,” you admittedly sheepishly, “it’s nice, being here together.”
“Maybe we can both work from home a little more often,” he suggested and you nodded immediately, “just an idea, ya know?”
“An excellent idea,” you agreed easily, “I love you so much.”
“I love you more,” his voice was so soft and gentle and it made you practically melt into him, “but right now, let’s rest a little bit longer and then we can have breakfast.”
“Only if I get to make it for you this time, Parker. You’ve taken care of me enough and I want to do something for you now.”
“You have yourself a deal!”
#peter parker#peter parker x reader#peter parker x fem!reader#peter parker x you#peter parker imagine#peter parker one shot#andrew garfield#andrew garfield x reader#andrew garfield x you#tasm!peter
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The Truth-Peter Parker
A/n: Ok, so the original angst fic I wanted to post is taking longer than I thought to finish. Here's a shorter angst-to-fluff fic that I think you'll enjoy!
Summary: Peter has been different recently and you don't like it.
Warning: Swears, Peter being stupid
Today is not your day, not even close. You realize that while staring down at the chapter text you didn't study for. You always tell yourself college grades are the most important thing in your life, but somehow you fucked this one up. Probably because your best friend has been on and off the grid for the past month.
You choose random answers for half a page, rubbing your forehead in frustration as the questions get harder. You glance over your shoulder to see Peter in the back of the class, practically breezing through the test. Of course, you aren't surprised seeing as he's already an expert in organic chemistry. You mentally curse him out for being smart enough not to study.
You still have five questions unanswered but at this point, you're at a low. With a deep breath you write down random answers you hope are bullshit enough to be accepted. You quickly stand from your chair, placing the test on the professor's desk. You get the shortest look at the class, half of them are already gone. You grab your backpack, swinging it over your shoulder. Right as you pass the professor's desk you hear shuffling from the very back, knowing it's Peter.
You don't spare him a glance, speeding up as you walk through the campus halls. You're about to turn the corner towards the exit when you hear footsteps gaining on you. You don't have to look to know who it is.
You push open the doors, heading straight to your car in hopes Peter doesn't reach you. Sadly, today is really not your day.
You only get halfway through the parking lot when he calls out to you. You can't pretend to not hear him because even a senile old man would. With a heavy sigh, you turn on your heel and watch him approach you.
"Hey, what's the rush?" He asks innocently, stopping a few feet in front of you. He hasn't even broken a sweat but he's breathing like he's run a mile. "I saw that you didn't do too well on the test." He tries to strike up a conversation.
"How would you know that? You were in the back of the class." You raise an eyebrow, genuinely wondering how he'd know that. You watch his face change as he tries to come up with a reason. It's either going to be a lie or he'll brush it off. That's what he's been doing recently, lying to you or avoiding you altogether.
"You left in a bad mood." He answers, shrugging his shoulders. You decide not to press further, knowing it'll lead nowhere. "You should have asked if you needed help, I could have rambled about organic chemistry until you'd become a secondhand expert!" This makes you lose your politeness.
"When could I have asked you?" You scoff, crossing your arms. "We barely talk and when I text you I get left on delivered." You point out with a frown. You could probably pull up his contact and scroll through the constant unanswered messages that are paired with random texts from him, usually at unreasonable hours. At one point you tried matching whatever sleep schedule he's on, but eventually had to stop for your sanity.
Peter nods his head, not defending himself. "I know I've been busy, I should have tried to talk to you more." He says in a genuine tone. He looks down at the asphalt, rubbing the back of his neck. You can't lie, even when you're close to ditching him in the parking lot, he looks good. "I promise that I'm not distracted anymore, I swear on my test score!" His eyes shift to look at you, his head ducked down a bit still. He looks adorable at that angle.
"And I'm supposed to care why?" You shift your weight onto one leg, the weight of your backpack making your back ache. A part of you wants to just forgive him and pretend like the past few weeks didn't happen, the other half wants to reject him and drive home.
"I was hoping we could hang out, you know like friends do." He chuckles. If his smile wasn't so perfect you'd call him insane, maybe even dramatically march away. Instead, you find yourself excited about the idea of spending time with him again. Your heart betraying your stubborn brain.
"And if I were to say yes, what would we do?" You enquire, pretending to not be interested. It's too bad you never made the starring role in any school plays.
"I'd order us pizza and invite you to watch a movie at my apartment." You've forgotten how much his internships are paying him, OSCORP definitely loves him. "I'll even buy those cupcakes you loved from that bakery." That catches your interest.
"Hmm, I'll have to see." You pretend to think, making him groan. You both know you're more than free, but you enjoy tormenting him. Honestly, spending time with Peter while eating free food is a double win. "I guess I'll do it." You relent, watching as his smile grows even more. You can see his eyes brighten once you agree, making your heart race.
"Perfect, Friday night at 6 o'clock!" He details, and you mentally note it. There's no way you'd miss it, not for the world.
-
It's pouring rain when you finally reach his apartment, you're dripping down the hallway. You know how to get to his apartment by heart having done it so much. The hallway filled with apartment doors is warm enough to keep you from shivering.
You reach his door, knocking a few times. You wait awkwardly, noticing how dead quiet it is. You hope he has clothes you can borrow so yours can dry, wet clothes are anything but comfortable.
You wait a few seconds before knocking again, still having hope about tonight. You assure yourself he's probably listening to music or in the shower. You send him a text letting him know you're outside.
After a few minutes, you call him, becoming impatient. The warmth of the hallway is no longer enough, your skin covered in bumps and your teeth chattering. There's no answer, you go straight to voicemail.
You don't want to believe he's not home. You try to come up with an excuse, anything that could stop the ache in your chest. However, you've been in this situation before. You know how tonight will end and it doesn't include free pizza and cupcakes.
You wait five more minutes before you have no patients left in you. You turn away from the door, heading back down the hallway, into the elevator, and back into the rainy night. On the way out you open his contact, sending one last message telling him to forget about it.
-
You wake up to the sound of your ringtone blaring in your ears. With a sleepy groan, you pick up your charging phone, seeing Peter's contact name in bold letters. You stare at the call, turning your sound off. You wait until the call ends before checking the time, seeing it's almost 3AM. No way in hell are you answering his calls this early in the morning, not after he stood you up.
You put your phone down, rolling away from it on your bed. You just want to sleep the day away, feeling disgusting from getting caught in the rain.
You fall asleep for a few hours before hearing a knock. You groggily sit up, heading to your bedroom door. You assume it's your roommate but when you open the door no one is there. You hear the knocking again, it's from your window.
Your body tenses, fear creeping up your back. You don't want to turn around in case your childhood fears were real and there's a killer on your fire escape.
There's a third round of knocks that come in a specific rhythm. You know that knock and you kind of wish it was a killer instead. You don't want to see Peter, but it's too late to act as if you're still asleep. Even if you did go back to sleep, you have no choice but to look at him while walking to your bed.
You know you'll regret this decision later, but you head to your window anyway. You lean on the windowsill, glaring daggers into Peter's soul through the glass. He gets the message instantly, giving you a pleading look. He points to the lock on your window, silently asking you to open it.
You huff, unlocking the window and pushing it open. You're itching to chew him out, to confront him about making you feel like shit. You want to get the first word, but the moment the window opens Peter is speaking.
"I'm so so so sorry! I promise I didn't leave you hanging on purpose!" He begins, talking at the speed of sound. He's sweating, his hair flat compared to his usual updo. "Something came up and I couldn't check my phone!" Another excuse.
"Just say you forgot and let me sleep." You grumble, eye locked with his. He knows you aren't messing around and that this is the last straw. He's fucked up for the last time and now he's grasping at anything to fix it. "At least spare me the truth."
"I swear I'm telling the truth, there was an emergency and I tried to get to my apartment in time." He sighs, running a hand through his hair. He's still withholding the truth and you know you'll never get it like this.
"Alright, Peter, I'm done." You pat your legs before reaching to shut your window. Before you can even touch the wooden frame, something sticky touches your wrist. Your eyes land on a white substance pulling on your skin slightly. You follow the string down to Peter's wrist, his eyes wide. There's a wristband with some sort of mechanism on it. "What the fuck?"
Before you can think he's climbing through your window, disconnecting his web from his wrist. You stare at the substance still attached to you, it reminds you of a spider's web. Spiderweb.
"OH, MY-" Peter places a hand over your mouth, shushing you. His palms are rough but warm. Your eyes are wide and the tips of your fingers are numb as things slowly get put into place in your mind.
"Please, don't scream," Peter begs, slowly removing his hand from your mouth. Your jaw is on the floor and you both know you have a lot to talk about.
-
Not in a million years did you expect tonight to go like this. You did not foresee Peter confessing to being Spider-Man or sitting on a rooftop as he explains his powers. You have no idea what time it is, but the sun is beginning to rise.
"So, this whole time you've been fighting crime and going to college?" That's the thing you can't wrap your head around. He has amazing grades, you're even jealous of him for it. You're trying to figure out how he doesn't pass out all the time from exhaustion.
"Yeah, I've been balancing everything." He admits. Your heart pangs at the idea of him wearing himself out constantly and then still trying to make time for you. "I promise if last night wasn't a serious emergency I would have been there." He shakes his head.
For the first time in a while, you believe him. "You shouldn't beat yourself up about it." You comfort him, rubbing his back. Now that you know the full truth, everything makes sense. You don't feel bad for being upset, but you can't hold onto the anger anymore.
"I tried so hard to make any time for you," He mumbles, watching the sunrise and the sky changes colors. "Every time I thought about messaging you or even talking to you, someone would commit a crime." He chuckles, handing his head between his knees.
"Well, now that I know I forgive you." You num, nudging him playfully. Honestly, knowing he's a secret superhero makes him ten times more attractive. "Besides, now I know you aren't trying to avoid me." You joke.
"Avoid you? Never." He scoffs, wrapping an arm around you. "If anything you're one of the reasons I fight for this city. I want you to live in a place that's protected." There's a long silence as you digest his words, trying to figure out if he's saying what you think he is. After an awkward amount of quiet, he speaks again, "I just want to make sure I wasn't being too subtle, I've been in love with you since freshman year." He says bluntly, putting it all out in the air.
"Oh." That is all you can say. The guy you've had a crush on has liked you for the same amount of time and all you can say is 'Oh'. You really need to slap yourself.
"Oh." He repeats, tapping his knees. "So, uhm, I love this chat I've created." He thins his lips, trying not to look directly at you.
It takes a second but your brain finally catches up with your heart. You turn to face him, your eyes are wide. You grip his arm as if he's leaving. "OH!" Your voice raises in a few octaves, "You're in love with me!"
"Yeah, I am." He laughs, taking your hand in his. Your heart is slamming against your chest, trying to find the correct words to say.
"I'm in love with you, too!" You shout, finally forming words. You sound extremely stupid and socially broken. "I just thought you were a dick!"
"No, you were right. I was being a dick." Peter nods his head with a smile on his face. You don't disagree with him, instead, you keep your eyes on his face. You're soaking up his features, taking in every pore and micro-scar on his face. "But I wish I had confessed sooner."
"I wish you did too, but I'm glad it's now instead of never." You lean your head on his shoulder, hand still in his. He brushes his finger over the back of your palm. "Besides, now we can be one of those couples at graduation who post like fifty photos." You tease.
"Couple?" His head snaps to look at you, "You still want to date me?" He asks in such a quiet voice, almost unsure you'll say yes. It shatters your heart to see him like this, believing that years of friendship and pining will go away after a couple rough patches.
"Oh, I'd date the fuck out of you," You nod your head with a serious look. His expression brightens more than before, and his free hand reaches to touch your face.
"Can I please kiss you?" He asks, his lips about to graze yours.
"If you don't I think I might jump off this roof." You lean closer and Peter doesn't hesitate to meet you halfway. The kiss is rough for just a second before mellowing out. You don't realize how much you've been craving this until it's actually happening.
He finally pulls away for air, resting his forehead on yours. "Holy shit." He gasps, trying to catch his breath. "I think this is the best moment of my life."
"It better be." You respond, going in for another kiss.
#peter parker x reader#spiderman x reader#spiderman x y/n#peter parker x y/n#peter parker x you#tasm!spiderman x reader#peter parker x fem#spider man x you#spiderman x you#spider man x reader#spider man x y/n#spiderman#tasm!peter parker angst#tasm!peter parker fluff#tasm!peter parker x reader#tasm!peter x reader#andrew garfield x female reader#andrew garfield x reader#andrew garfield x you
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Wedding night And #8 for Andrew Garfield?
—𓆩[we go down together]𓆪—
𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[updated bingo card!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪
𓆩[your wedding song ♡]𓆪
𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - Husband! Andrew Garfield x Wife! Fem! Pregnant! Reader
𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - pure fluff and smut
𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 3.5K
𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - Andrew promised you that he would make sure your wedding was perfect. He didn’t care how much it cost, where it would be, who was invited, as long as he was marrying you. Even then though, as much as he wanted to stick by the rules and not see you on the special day, he sneaks a peak and sees a small little surprise you had just for him.
𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - cursing & foul language || I gave you best friends with names inspired by Harry Potter cuz my sister was watching it- || Michaela Jaé Rodriguez and Florence Pugh are now your best friend cuz they’re amazing || I didn’t put the actual wedding ceremony cuz it would’ve taken too long sorry with love 🤍 || I chose a wedding song for you || public oral || public sex || fingering || unprotected sex || creampie || breeding kink || multiple orgasms || pregnant sex || daddy kink || lactation kink || pregnancy kink || this is pure filthy smut I’m so sorry I got carried away- ||
“So, are you going to kick me out now?” Andrew whispered to you, his hands teasing at your hips in an attempt to persuade you into letting him stay the whole night. He thought the superstition was stupid, and to you as well, but your best friends were insisting on it.
Besides, you had a little gift for Andrew you didn’t want him seeing, so it worked out.
You hummed, letting your fingers trail down his bare chest. It was tempting, him and his perfect accent, but no. This was being done for the right reason. “Not yet. You still have a few minutes.”
Andrew sends you his signature lopsided grin. “I can do a lot in a few minutes.”
You couldn’t help but giggle as he leaned forward, kissing you softly with a firm press of his lips. “I know you can baby… I know.”
He grins, raising a brow. “So I can-?”
“It’s 11:55, Andrew, get out!” Your best friend rushed in, grabbing him from the bed and basically dragging him out.
“What the hell are you doing?!” You yelled, sitting up as they paused.
“He can’t see you on your wedding day!” They then proceeded to drag him out, a loud laugh escaping his lips.
“I love you, my sweet girl!”
“I love you too, Andrew!”
The next morning, Andrew knew he wasn’t supposed to see the gift you gave your best friend, a bright blue bag that he had seen around the house but never looked inside because you were yelling exclusively at him not to.
“Look! Isn’t it so cute, I got it custom made,” you pulled out a tiny piece of cloth that he couldn’t see, but it wasn’t like he was trying to whenever he was staring at the beautiful wedding dress you had on. “He’s going to love it, right?”
Maybe it was lingerie, oh he’d love any lingerie you’d put on. It didn’t make sense though, you’d have the lingerie on, underneath that beautiful wedding dress that would’ve had ancestors turning in their graves.
The white fabric was tight on your body, lace overlapping the skin toned fabric that matched yours perfectly to make it seem like the white lace and the intricate beadings and pearls and small white and clear crystals that made it seem like it was dancing on your skin. He inhaled deeply as you turned around, makeup perfect and that perfect white gold ring that had the large diamond created into it made a deep sigh leave his lips, his eyes already watering.
Oh, how could you look so beautiful? You were showing skin and your beautiful form that he had praised for years, mumbling words against your body about how perfect you were.
Fuck, he couldn’t stop staring.
“Andrew!” Your friend saw him still dressed in some sweatpants and a t-shirt, still designer of course, but he still wasn’t dressed in the suit he picked out. “What the hell are you doing?!”
“I’m leaving, I’m leaving, I’m sorry!” He wiped his eyes quickly as you gasped when Hermione covered your body with her own.
“Get out!” Michaela yells, laughing when she almost trips. “Go!”
Andrew groans dramatically as he walks away, holding back a smile when the door slammed shut. He could hear your laugh, making Andrew look back until Jamie and Charlie walked out.
“What the hell are you doing?!” Jaime was laughing, his tux tight in his body. “Sneaking into her room, naughty Andrew, aren’t you?”
“She has a present for me,” he grinned, looking over at Charlie. “And I’m going to enjoy it so much.”
After the official wedding, it was time for the grand entrance. For your something old, new, borrowed, and blue, there were a lot of things your bridesmaids gave you, but one of your families gave you the chance to get married where they did as their something ‘borrowed’.
The reception was adults only, especially with everyone else being adults and the fact you and Andrew were always pretty physical. For something new, Florence gave you diamond ear cuffs to accentuate your new diamond and sapphire earrings Michaela had given you for something blue. For something old, Andrew’s mother gave you a diamond and white gold tennis bracelet that had been in their family.
“You ready to go inside, baby? It’s our grand entrance,” Andrew pulled away from your lips, his fingers digging into your hips. His lips were swollen, thankfully un-smeared of lipstick because of the makeup artist Andrew got to make sure you looked absolutely perfect. “And they’ve been waiting for like half an hour because I couldn’t get this dress off for a quickie.”
You only giggle, humming softly with a shrug. “They’ve waited this long, they can wait a few more minutes. You just… your mouth is just perfect.”
He grinned. “Oh, is it? Let me see, show me,” he leaned back on the wall, pushing himself into a wall sit position to lean his head back so that you were taller than him. He opened his mouth wide, watching as you leaned down to lick against his tongue, his hands pulling you closer between his legs. You tilt your head, pulling him closer as you tug his head farther up, desperate to taste him more.
He tasted like mint, fresh and cold as you exhaled into his mouth and stroked his hair. You sucked even harder, groaning before a loud scream made you pull back.
“Y/N, Andrew, get your butts inside!” Florence yelled, her accent filling the room as you laughed.
“We’re coming!”
“I hope not!” Michaela yelled, peeking out from inside the main building. “Come on, let’s go!”
Andrew stood up straight, fixing his white suit as you grabbed his hand and pulled him to the door. You both slowly walked in, cheers and laughter and music filling your ears as Andrew looked over at you while pulling you to the middle of the dance floor. Your song started playing, that perfect, perfect song. You had started listening to it randomly, and whenever Andrew heard it, you both agreed that it would be a perfect wedding song.
We Go Down Together by Khalid and Dove Cameron fit the two of you. Sometimes you did fight and fall, there were nights filled with sobbing, but as soon as you both saw each other and were pulled into the other's arms; everything went quiet. It went still, soft, the only thing filling the night was each other.
“I’m always going to be here for you, Andrew,” you whisper, stroking the back of his head. “Always and forever. I will be with you forever.”
Andrew inhaled deeply, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. “I love you, Y/N. Forever and always. I love you.”
“I love you too, baby.”
Right at the end, there was one last thing that you both had to do. The taking off the garter, it was time.
You sat down in the large cushioned chair that made you feel like a queen, your dress that went out at the waist hiked up as everyone around you both cheered. It was hot, extremely hot temperature wise you were surprised your makeup wasn’t dripping down your face, but it was good.
Andrew must have been hot too, his blazer already off and the tie around his neck gone and the top few buttons already unbuttoned. His face was shiny, sheening with sweat as he kneeled down in front of you, unbuttoning his shirt even lower making everyone cheer. He goes under the poofy skirt of your dress, his tongue shamelessly dragging along your thigh as his hands hold your knees apart and a loud squeal leaves your mouth. Everyone cheers, but your mind was focused on his mouth as he licked against your bare cunt exposed by your lingerie, sucking and rubbing his fingers against your slit. Your hands rush to hold his head through your dress, an uncontrollable giggle leaving your lips as he slides a finger inside of your cunt, easily because he was definitely fingering you earlier in the hall.
It doesn’t change the feeling though, his middle finger thrusting into you knuckle deep and his thumb rubbing around your entrance. Teasing around your entrance with his thumb as his teeth graze down your thigh, teasing the lace and chiffon garter. You hold back a whimper and a moan as he slowly takes a hold of it, pulling out his sticky fingers as he gets down to your ankle, slipping the garter off around your heel before coming out from under your skirt with the garter between his teeth.
Oh you truly couldn’t wait for tonight.
When you and Andrew got home, he was carrying you bridal style like he always wanted to. Your arms were wrapped around his neck, laughing as he kicked the door shut and quickly set the alarm before moving to the stairs. “Andrew. Andrew, baby please, I need you, I need you so bad.”
You had been desperate ever since he finger fucked you while taking off your garter, sneaking away to finish it off while everyone was dancing to fuck you with his long digits in the hallway, effectively making you come undone around his fingers while you begged for more.
He laughed, pressing kisses to your neck as he finally made it up, going straight to your shared room’s closed door. “You need me, love? Yeah? I swear to fucking god I’m going to fuck you so hard that you won’t be able to walk straight for the rest of the year baby. I’ll fuck you so much you’ll never forget this night, fill you up with so much cum that you’ll be pregnant by the end of the night.”
You gasped, making him pause after he opened the door, raising a brow. “Y/N, baby, everything alright?”
You looked back inside the room, smiling when you saw the baby blue bag. “Take me inside!” He quickly does as you say, setting you down as you quickly run to the bag, your bare feet padding along the cold wood floor. “Open it!”
“Baby, is everything alright? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, just open it!”
He sighs as he slowly sits down on the bed, your hands already undoing the back of your dress and slipping it off easily because Andrew had untied the main knot earlier. You kneeled in front of him, the only thing covering your body was the lingerie that you had underneath your wedding dress. The sight alone made him get distracted, your eyes wide and waiting for him to open the bag that he had seen earlier, face bare of makeup that you had taken off before you both left the venue.
“Andrew!” You whined, a pout on your swollen lips. “Open it!”
“R-Right,” he looks down at the bag, inhaling deeply as he takes out the tissue paper and you giggle. He slowly takes out the fabric, your face falling when he looks at you confused. “What is it?”
“It’s a onesie, Andrew!” You groaned. “Turn it around!”
He did, jaw falling slack when he saw the blue texts underneath the graphic of a swaddled baby, ‘YOU’RE GOING TO BE A DADDY!’
You start to worry when he doesn’t speak, quickly peeking over the onesie to see his eyes red and bloodshot, tears falling down his cheeks. “Oh, Andrew!”
“I’m going to be a dad?” His voice was broken, hoarse as you quickly jumped into his chest, hugging him. “Oh my fucking god, I’m going to be a dad. I’m going to be a daddy, baby, you’re making me a daddy.”
You smiled widely, tears of relief filling your eyes as you slowly pulled the onesie from his grip and pulled him down to press a kiss to your lips. You groaned loudly as his hands quickly hold your hips, pulling you off of the ground as he stood and turned around, easily laying you on the bed before crawling over your body.
His lips trail over your skin, sucking and biting to leave hickies all over your perfect skin. He groaned loudly as your legs spread automatically for him, sitting back to quickly undo his belt and unbutton his pants, fumbling to slip them off making you giggle. He succeeds after a few minutes, ducking back down to kiss against your tits.
“To think these pretty tits are going to be filled with milk for me soon,” he murmured against your nipples, cupping and squeezing at them making your nipples quickly go hard and your back arch. You whined as he sucked on your nipple, teeth grazing the sensitive bud as he stared up at you. “You’re going to be a perfect mommy for our babies, darling, but I think as soon as I taste your milk, I’m gonna keep wanting more.”
You whined as his other hand squeezed at your nipple, flicking with his thumb as he continued to suck and abuse the other, groaning. “Dr-Drew, you’re going to be a perfect daddy, you’re going to be the best daddy ever.”
He groans against your tit, lapping against your perky bud with a wink. “Do you think so, baby? I swear, I’m going to love seeing you round with my baby and tits full of milk. Swear, I’m going to be hard all the fucking time seeing you pregnant with my baby. Think I’m going to like seeing you pregnant.”
You whined loudly, hips bucking as your eyes rolled back when he moved to the other tit. “Andrew, Andrew please!”
“Ah ah baby, I’m a daddy now,” he grinned at you, teasing you. “Think you should call me that now.”
This wasn’t something that happened often, but how could you refuse when he looked so fucking proud of himself? “D-Daddy, daddy please. Please, need you to fuck me. Need to be full of your cum, need to feel your cock inside of me.”
He groaned loudly, leaning up to press his mouth to yours, his tongue swirling around your own. It wasn’t even a kiss, his tongue swirling and shoving down your throat as he guided his cock in between your legs, pushing inside of you and swallowing the loud moan that left your mouth.
“Fucking hell, you feel so fucking good, I swear,” he basically growled against your lips, gasping as your nails dragged down his back. “Maybe it’s because you’re growing my child? Could that be it? You’re making me a daddy, gonna be the perfect fucking mother for our children?”
You nodded, mind blurry as you tried to focus on his voice, but the only thing you could think about was his dick. He was slow at first, his cock not foreign inside of you, but the faster his thrusts got, the more you couldn’t focus. “Yes!” You yelled out, the only thing you could even think about. Yes, I’ll be the perfect mother. Yes, I’ll raise your children, yes, yes, yes.
“Swear baby, if it’s going to make you like this, I’m going to keep you pregnant all the fucking time,” he groans, hips moving faster as your head tilted back, mouth lulled open and moans falling out, but your face was so fucked out it looked like you weren’t thinking of anything else but his cock, not even the words coming out of his mouth. “Look at you, baby. I love you darling, I do, but I fucking love when you get all cock obsessed for me. Are you cock obsessed, baby, dick drunk? Hm?”
Your head lulls, nodding as your nails dig into his shoulders, another orgasm close as you speak. “Yes. Yes, daddy, I’ll be pregnant all the time for you! I’ll stay here, ready to get fucked and bred, pumped full of cum to give you babies!”
It was words fully fueled of lust, the smell of sex in the air and the sounds of skin against skin slapping together echoing off the walls fueling both of your fucked out states. It was fully possible you didn’t even know what you were saying, only thinking about his cock, as you were successful all in your own, but there was the chance where you did know what you were talking about and you would sit here pumping babies out for him every nine months just for him to get you pregnant again and again as soon as you’re cleared.
The thought truly did sound fucking amazing. You both knew damn well he could provide for both of you and all of your children, no matter how many you both chose to have.
“Oh yeah, baby? You gonna be a good fucking cumslut, gonna be bred over and over again? Huh? Gonna keep you fucking pregnant, all while you be the perfect fucking mother for each and every one of our spoiled little brats that are going to fucking praise you like a goddess. Gonna fuck you over and over again, not gonna let any drop of cum spill out, keep all of my sperm inside of you so you can get pregnant over and over. You like that? Do you like the thought of having babies over and over again for me?”
His words easily tipped you over the edge, his cock ramming into you over and over again, fucking you like a fleshlight and using your abused hole to please you. The only thought in your mind was the unrealistic image of cum, his cum, spurting out of your cunt, tummy bulging like you were nine months pregnant just from his sperm and tits leaking breast milk that he would devour every minute of the day if he could.
Even if it was unrealistic, he would make it happen if you asked him to.
“Baby, you already came, you squirted all over my cock. What’s going on in that little fucked out brain of yours, hm? Tell me, it better not be the thought of anything other than my cock,” he grunted as he slammed his hips back into you, his hand pushing between the both of you to rub circles against your puffy clit. His other hand grabbed your chin, wiping the drool running down your chin as he forced you to look at him. “Hey baby, I’m right here. Look at me and tell me what you’re thinking about, tell your daddy what you’re thinking about as his cock fucks you so hard and his cum fills you up. Tell me!”
You screamed out, a broken noise leaving your lips as his thrusts get rougher, harder, his fists squeezing at your tits. “I want to stay pregnant for you, daddy! Want to be leaking with your cum every day, want milk to be inside my titles and for you to drink it every day, don’t care how many babies we have as long as you fuck me and fill me and get me pregnant! Want your babies, daddy, want all your cum!”
He lets out a loud, guttural groan into your neck, his hips faltering as he came inside of you, gasping for air as you pant above him. His hands shakily hold your hips, his lips turning soft against your skin as he rolled his hips gently, your hands stroking his back. You finally came down from your high, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to his temple.
“I think… two kids is good.”
“Just two? Thought you wanted more,” he teased at first making you giggle, but he smiled gently at you and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. “We can have as many as you want. I don’t care, as long as you’re their mother. You will be the best fucking momma, baby, the best mommy to those kids ever.”
You inhaled shakily, smiling up at him with tears running down your cheeks as you leaned up just enough to press a soft kiss to his lips. “And you’re going to be the best daddy. I promise.”
He smiled. “We’ll make amazing parents.”
“We will, Drew. Amazing fucking parents.”
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sugar and vice, pt 1 [mob!tasm!peter x fem!reader]
summary: I have a meet-cute in a coffee shop. but for mob!peter.
words: 5.5k
warnings: Shameless TASM mob!daddy Peter fantasies, including, but not limited to, kidnapping, knives, bang bang shoot shoot, pining, eventual smut
Part 1
“Just a coffee, black. Biggest ya got.”
Wearily, yet still wired, Peter tapped his fingers on the stainless steel counter. It was late. Or early. Streetlamps still blazed in unholy darkness outside. It had been a long night. But he had felt like he’d been up for years.
Across from him, a young woman wearing overalls and a daisy-yellow bandana gave him a heavy nod. “Sure,” she replied, gravely. “I have to warn you, though. We over-roast our beans. It’s bitter as hell.”
He blinked at her, not expecting such honesty. She had a trusting face. Pretty eyes.
“Ya wanna sweeten it up for me?”
He could hear the lame pickup line of a younger version of himself. One that wore a confident smirk, walked with bravado. One that hadn’t lost what he had lost. The older Peter of today brushed that voice away. “I like bitter.”
He glanced up at her eyes and saw sympathy. “Oof, tragic,” she frowned, shaking her head teasingly, her coyness peeking through. She retrieved a paper cup and filled the dark liquid to the brim.
The personalness of it threw him off. Peter had wandered in like a zombie. He only briefly heard her ask for his order and his name, both of which he gave, and he expected nothing in return but the coffee. He watched her carefully, shifting uncomfortably. He was the only customer in the shop at this hour, but he didn’t expect to be seen.
“Here you go,” she declared, handing the cup over. “One large black graveyard dirt, extra tears.”
It wasn’t so much the joke, rather the way she beamed when she said it. It was like sunlight peeking through the curtains just right, casting a familiar space in an ethereal glow.
She glowed.
Seeing it awakened his senses. He felt the way flowers must feel, desperately reaching their petals out toward the sun after they’d been neglected through a long, dark winter.
Before he knew it, he was smiling back. Teeth bared, eyes crinkled, grinning like a fool. He thought his muscles couldn’t remember what smiling felt like. It ached.
She reached out, extending the cup towards him. But it was so much more than that.
His gaze darted from her sparkling eyes, to the curve of her mouth, back to the apples of her cheeks—
“Thanks for stopping by, Ben!”
The illusion vanished, as did his smile. He pulled away, staring at the stainless steel countertop for a moment. He thanked her and took the cup from her hand, dropping a couple of bucks in the jar. He didn’t spare her another glance as he turned on his heel.
For a moment there, he felt free. He’d forgotten what he was underneath the leather gloves, thick cashmere coat, the bitter coffee, and the fake name.
His hand found the door, the winter chill penetrating his glove. Just as he began to push it open, he heard a shout.
“Wait!”
He did, glancing back at her, against his better judgment.
“I forgot to tell you,” she said, almost shrinking into herself with a sheepish expression. She blushed at the eagerness and volume of her own voice. “To have a great day.”
He blinked, brow creased.
“It’s, uh, sorry— it’s stupid,” she rolled her eyes, slapping her palm across her forehead. “But I’m… I’m supposed to say ‘have a great day’ and I always forget, maybe ‘cos I’m a little ADHD, and my boss always reminds me that I need to say it every time, but that’s awkward, right? Like it needs to come up in conversation, I can’t just blurt it. I mean, I can. Like, I just did. But that was weird, right? It was weird. And sometimes, I’m thinking about the next 3 things I have to do, or the thing I just did and I get… I don’t know, a little lost in the moment, and then it passes, and then I felt like I missed out, y’know?”
He stared. “No?”
“On saying what I want really to say,” she said with a voice full of warmth—gentle and genuine in tone. Her babbling ceased as she emphatically declared. “I really hope you have a great day. You deserve it.”
There it was again. That smile. Sincerity and kindness sliced through him like a razor. He was a child again, getting a kiss on the cheek from his mother. Her cheerful gaze lit him up inside, like setting off a roman candle beneath his ribs. It wrapped him in a firm embrace, filling him, shielding him, and grounding him all at once.
This time, he couldn't look away. Didn't want to. He waited until he could hear the flutter in her heart. He was smiling again.
“Thank you. I think I will.”
And as if she’d cast some sort of spell, he did. The way she enchanted him, he was certain if they lived 400 years ago they might accuse her of witchcraft. He always had a good day when he saw her. No matter how painful, or dirty, or bloody. She became his good luck charm. His ability to ‘have a good day’ became entirely dependent on seeing her.
He shouldn’t go back there. He should try the Starbucks down the street. But he couldn’t help it.
She’d pour him basic drip coffee, announcing aloud to the whole shop as she handed it to him. “Here you go! Extra large, extra-hot dark roast, with extra-darkness and a splash of angst.” There was affection in her gaze despite the sarcasm of her voice.
“One extra large coffee, black as the devil’s soul.” She’d whisper to him privately, gifting him with a good-luck smile, even when the coffee shop was full of people during the morning rush. In those moments, she made him feel like they were the last two people on the planet. And it always made something in his belly flutter.
“I have an extra-black ‘Fault in Our Stars,’ with a shot of ‘The Road’ for my friend in the suit!”
Her friend. He couldn’t help but blush. How could he come to this place every day, stand in line, and feel like he was coming home? She was magic.
The coffee really was awful.
“Let me know if you ever want me to sweeten that up for you,” she graciously suggested, as the cup left her fingers. The brush of her fingertips against his felt like wildfire. Her comment was innocent, but his mind wasn’t. “I think I can make it taste better—I have some window cleaner left.”
He was smiling again. It blossoms into something reciprocal. That should be enough. He shouldn’t be greedy. He should walk away now. He should run.
“What would you suggest?” he asked coyly. It was the first time he had ever done so.
A million saccharine-infused terms of endearment flowed through his mind—sweetness, sugar, gumdrop, sweetheart, sweetie, cookie, peach, muffin, angelcake—most of them were trash. (Really, Parker? What is this, high school? Whaddya doin’? You ever talk to a woman before? Why do you sound like somebody’s grandpa? Such a creepy —
Some of them weren’t appropriate between friends. None of them appropriate coming from a stranger.
That’s what he was, deep down. God, this precious girl—she was so trusting. Was she friendly like this with everyone? No, he had noticed as time went on. She’s warm and kind to everyone she meets. But not like this. Not the way she is for him.
“Ooh, getting adventurous, are we?” she teased him, stars in her eyes.
For him. All he could do was stare back in awe at the Milky Way in her gaze. He would follow them and venture on any journey where they may lead.
“How do you feel about lavender and honey?”
Flowers and sugar for Brits and fancy people. He quirked his brow at the concept. “In coffee?”
Her eyes twinkled with excitement, as she spun around and began her concoction.
For him.
He needed to leave. But he followed the length of her arms, the delicacy of her fingers, the way her hips moved as she danced around her workstation. He was hypnotized again.
He imagined dancing with her. Letting her body flow and wrap around his like curtains billowing in the breeze. He barely registered that she was holding a new cup out toward him. While he was daydreaming, she had written his name on the cup and drew a little heart next to it.
He stared at it. It’s not exactly his name. But it’s the one he’d given her. And in return, she had given him so much.
He took the cup from her hand and couldn’t help but feel like he was undeserving of her kindness. Or her attention. Or her heart.
“Don’t make that face,” she softly admonished as if she could read his mind, or she might have read his sad look as disproval of her efforts. “Don’t knock it ‘til you try it.”
She gave him a smile. She gave and gave and gave. Gave him a reason to keep living. She didn’t even know.
He took a sip. It warmed his tongue, his throat, his heart. It ached.
“S’good,” he hummed, honestly surprised. He was telling her the truth. He reached for his wallet with his free hand, retrieving a wad of bills. He always paid in cash.
She waved him off, mock offense on her face. “No, silly. That’s not how gifts work!” Her laugh sounded like church bells.
She was a gift. For him. His flower. His Honey.
“This one’s on the house,” she assured him, as he hesitantly lowered his wallet. She whispered low, in a tone that burned him up inside. “It’ll be our secret.” His mind felt like it was rebooting. She said it innocently, but he was anything but. She scoffed with a flippant laugh, “Just don’t tell my boss, okay?”
Her boss. He knew about her boss. Tod. With one ‘D’.
Some mornings, particularly Monday through Thursday, he’d see the pencil-like man stiffly pacing the back of the bar while she and another young girl kept up with demand. Hawkish eyes, always watching. Always judging. Rarely picking up a milk jug himself.
He dominated the register. Peter hated handing him cash. His face reminded him of a cheese grater if it could look unhappy. “Are you sure you don’t want a pastry?” he offered the ‘add-on’ with what was supposed to be a smile.
Peter’s eyes shot over to his Honey as she was artfully pouring foam, adding her magic to someone else’s cup. She refused to look at Peter and he hated it. It reminded him of a defense tactic. Don’t look at the thing you don’t want to be taken away. As if he was a prized possession that she wanted to hide away from Tod, who might accuse her of having ‘favorites.’
It stirred wild emotions to be thought of that way, especially by her.
How dare her boss accuse her of any wrongdoing. How dare he threaten her.
“I’m fine,” said Peter, with a chill he hoped Tod could feel.
He needed to leave.
He needed to take his Honey and his Lavender Latte and just go.
He shook his head. His brain was lagging again. He turned away from the straight-backed scarecrow before a robotic ‘thank you for being a customer’ could be responded to.
Peter waited. Eyes on the floor. Eyes on the exit. Eyes on the windows. Eyes on her, but only briefly. He waited and daydreamed bitterly, waiting for her to call out a name that wasn’t his.
“Honey Lavender Latte,” his enchantress called out. Hearing her voice caught him from his downward spiral. He made eye contact with her as he took the cup from her hands. Warmth radiated from her eyes, although muted. It was enough to soothe and comfort him.
She blushed, sheepishly, unable to contain the smile in her voice. “Have a lavender-ly day.”
His mood lifted. Such a silly girl. Witchcraft, indeed. “Thanks, Honey,” he replied, without thinking.
Her big eyes widened for a moment, and her heart quickened. Her breath caught in her throat as she looked away, unsuccessfully hiding her teeth.
Peter would call her that a million times in a row if it would elicit that reaction.
“Have a great day,” Tod interrupted, murdering the moment.
Poor girl. She cowered slightly, like a dog hearing the word ‘no.’ She took a breath and put on a smile, turning back towards her work.
Tough girl. She didn’t need Peter to defend her.
He glanced over at Tod with a deadpan expression, and walked out of the shop before he did or said anything else stupid.
The world was full of Tods. It was also full of monsters. Sometimes Peter was one of them. No Tod was truly worth his attention.
Except for that one time.
A Tuesday morning in the middle of the holiday shopping season. Peter stood in line patiently, arms crossed, gritting his teeth. He glowered behind the bar at Tod, standing too close to his Honey. She gazed up at her boss helplessly, watching him turn red in the face, as the flagpole of a man waved his arms wildly. Clearly agitated, he kept his volume low but his body language screamed at her.
“What I need your help with is this,” Tod hissed as he towered over her. “I need you to tell me what is the best method for getting information into your head. How can I communicate with you in a way that you’ll understand?” His voice was soft although he flailed like a wavy-arm inflatable man in a car lot.
“Tell me honestly,” he sneered, dressing her down in front of a line of customers. At this point, Peter didn’t need any superpowers to be able to hear the conversation. She visibly fought the urge to cry. “Do I need to write it down? Do I need to scream at you? Do I need to throw something? Do I need to take you aside and have an hour-long conversation?” She kept her eyes on the ground as he kept pelting her with icicles. “Tell me your preference here. What is it that you’ll respond to?”
The scene came to an abrupt end when the glass of the shop window shattered. The sound silenced him finally. The front door swayed limply, having been yanked off its hinges and slammed into its frame. His Honey glanced around the shop with concern.
Peter was no longer there.
He didn’t come back that day.
Neither did Tod.
Some sort of accident, his Honey told him the following week, although he already knew the details. She explained to him why the shop had a new manager, a well-composed woman named Leyla. By the airiness of her mood, he could tell she greatly preferred Leyla’s managerial style.
She was happy, and that made him happy.
And that should be enough.
He should leave. He should run. Get as far away from her as possible.
But he was intoxicated by her. Drunk on her sweetness and her Honey Lavender Lattes.
He looked at her like she was the queen of the hive. He’d let her take that crown, any anything else she could ever want, if he had the chance. He’d worship her. He already looked at her like she was a goddess. The devotion in his honey-tinted eyes was clear to anyone who bothered to look.
“Peter Parker!”
Hearing his real name while he stood grinning like a fool in front of his Honey one afternoon made him flinch, sending a shiver up his spine. He turned around, yanked from his reverie, watching three men stroll into the shop.
He positioned his body in front of her, obscuring her from their view. His hands were tight balls at his sides.
Peter was familiar with two of the faces, but razor-sharp focused on the mountain in a suit they called Filch. He’d seen that greasy face more times than he’d want to admit, shrouded in darkness and cigar smoke. Seated at the hand of Wilson Fisk.
His jaw locked in place.
Filch looked overjoyed to see him. Like they were old friends. Like Peter didn’t know that Wilson Fisk was plotting to move against him.
“I thought that was you!” he brightly exclaimed. He strolled through the shop, like a cheetah stalking prey. Removing a hat and revealing what little hair he had left underneath. “Long way from Queens. Fancy finding ya all the way out here, eh?”
Peter knew better. The only surprise in this situation was intended for Peter. He’d been followed here. Watched.
His spine went rigid, shoulders into stone.
Don’t look at the thing you don’t want to be taken away.
He could hear her heart flutter faster behind him. As if she could sense the way he bristled when they arrived. Trouble in her kingdom. A disturbance to the delicate sanctuary she had built, like all of her totems and protection spells were wearing out.
Peter kept his back to her. He kept his eyes trained on the three men, who spread out in a familiar pattern. They were scoping the place. Checking for cameras, other patrons, and all possible exits.
Don’t look at the thing you want—
“Hey, Sugar, it’s cold outside,” Filch called out, with all the grace of flagging down a hooker. “Whaddya got to warm us up?”
Peter stared straight ahead. Glaring. Fuming.
“Might I suggest the coffee?” his Honey answered. “Just made a fresh pot of the dark roast. It’s good.”
He might have cracked a smile if he wasn’t busy envisioning a scenario where he’d have to kill the three men in the room with just the tools available in a coffee shop.
“Pour me a cuppa that,” Filch replied, his eyes never leaving Peter’s.
Peter only slightly relaxed when he felt her presence back away behind the bar. She grabbed a paper cup and filled it with steaming-hot tar. She set the cup down on the counter and backed away, minding her workstation. “That’ll be $2.50.”
Good girl, Peter thought. He saw Filch go for his breast pocket.
“I gotcha,” Peter cut in before Filch could move closer. He grabbed the cup and handed it over to his rival’s lapdog. “‘S’on me.”
Filch eyed Peter cautiously, reaching out where both hands could be visible. He took the cup with exaggerated gratitude. “No, I couldn’t possibly—”
“I said I gotcha,” Peter firmly cut him off, the cords in his neck going tight. Peter retrieved a few bills from his coat pocket, never breaking eye contact with his opponents. “We good here?”
Too many seconds passed with no response. He could feel the twitch of his pulse in his throat. Filch’s eyes drifted back behind the counter. He was too close to her. He studied her in a way that was far too intimate. It made Peter’s skin crawl.
“We’re good,” Filch replied. A smile curved his lips. He held the cup up, toasting him. “Have a great day.”
Peter swallowed hard as the three men sauntered out. He watched them go, his stomach sinking, bile rising.
They’d been watching him alright. Who knows how long. He’d been a patron of this shop and he would order from this girl and stare at her with doe-eyes and hearts swirling around his head, out in the open where anyone could see. And they did see. He showed his hand and now the game was over.
“Who’s Peter?” he heard her voice softly ask.
The illusion was shattered. He turned his head, but couldn’t bear to look at her. He felt sick. Empty. Furious. Petrified.
The monsters were gone now. But they’d be back.
“I’m sorry,” was all he could say, as he walked out of the door.
They’d be back. He’d be there first.
She watched her favorite customer disappear into the night, her eyes wide with longing as she followed him. He disappeared in a few blinks of her eyes.
Something unsettling crawled beneath her skin. Maybe it was longing, but she was familiar with longing. This was new.
Her hands were shaking and she wasn’t sure how that happened either. One minute she was staring into his dreamy, honey-hued eyes, then the next he was running in the other direction. Not unlike their first meeting, a scene which she replayed over and over again in her head, trying to figure out what made him go so rigid.
Who’s Peter?
Peter Parker.
Peter Parker.
She repeated his name in her mind, reciting it like a mantra. She wasn’t great with names, but he told her his name was Ben on that first morning so many months ago, and she made a point to remember his name, and to say his name, because people liked it when you said their name, it made them feel closer to you and she wanted more than anything to be close to him.
She squeezed her eyes shut. Her wheels were spinning again. She used her thumb to push down hard on the center of her opposite palm. The dull pain grounded her back to reality.
When she opened her eyes, she half expected him to be there. He always seemed to show up when she least expected it. He was a bright spot in her day, despite his gloomy demeanor. He could be dark as a raincloud, but she loved dancing in the rain.
Or as her co-worker Nasrin teased her one day, he was her “tall, dark, hot cup of coffee.” She hid her face in her hands as Nasrin got to the “sucking him down with a straw” part of the analogy. She was incredibly grateful that he had been standing by the door, and there’s no way he could’ve heard that.
Now she had a first name and a last name and a... another name? And a place — you’re a long way away from Queens. A quick Google search of the names in question pulled up too many generic results. There was a dated article about a Ben Parker who was killed in an armed robbery, but her tall, dark friend couldn’t have had anything to do with that.
It twisted her stomach when she considered the fact that she really didn’t know him. She didn’t know who those guys were, and by the looks of things, she didn’t want to know. She should just drop it.
She did the best she could to keep busy, but there weren’t any more customers after that. She sent a quick text to her new manager that she wasn’t feeling well, and closed the shop early. She took the subway home.
Once she got on the train, she didn’t make it back to the platform. It was late, but the subway car was still unusually empty, save for a couple of randos sitting at the opposite end of her car. Any other night, the near-solitude would’ve been a blessing. Tonight, something felt off.
Twenty minutes into her ride, just as the train was about to cross the river, it jerkily slowed to a stop. Her cessation of movement stirred her. Her head popped up from the glow of her phone screen curiously. She worried her lower lip as she glanced at the doors and windows, as if she could somehow see whatever it was that was stopping the train.
She jolted as she felt a hand clamp down on her upper arm. Startled, she looked up at the two other occupants of the train car, now standing inches behind her. Two men that had been seated quietly, also seemingly distracted by their phones.
“Come on, sweetie pie,” one of them said, towering over her. “It’s time to go.” She didn’t recognize either of them, but her instincts reminded her of the altercation in the coffee shop. These two had the same ‘goonlike’ look.
She tried wrenching her arm away, but the stranger held tight. “Get off,” she hissed. His partner on the left took her other arm, albeit more gently.
“Hey, take it easy,” the other man admonished. “No need to be rude.”
“Yeah, we’re friends,” the first man added, with a greasy smile. Her eyes darted around frantically. Panic set in as she realized she was alone in the subway car. The doors slid open, but there was no platform. Instead, the doors opened to building rooftops. The train had stopped on an elevated track above the street.
“Let’s go,” the gruffer man beckoned, grabbing her arm more tightly. He dragged her through the doorway, on a dark walkway next to the tracks. As soon as he lifted her, she erupted into a fit of screams. She kicked her legs, shrieking for help, but no reply came. She didn’t know if no one could hear her, or if people knew better not to respond.
“Keep it down,” one of the goons ordered coldly, dragging her along. She desperately resisted, letting her legs drop out beneath her.
She heard a hiss and pop as the subway train sprang back to life behind them. She watched helplessly as it pulled away.
“A wild one, aren’cha?” the red-haired roughneck tutted, yanking her back up to her feet. “Be a good girl or I’ll throw ya over my shoulder.”
She tried jerking away again, but halted as she faced the edge of the walkway. The dizzying height stunned her into submission. Her knees began to lock up, trembling with fear.
“Take it easy, Katz,” the man’s partner chided him, albeit insincerely. The two of them practically carried her down the walkway. “You’re scarin’ her.”
They arrived at an old set of metal stairs leading to the street below. The sharp, steep grade of the steps made her vertigo even worse.
“No, help! Somebody help!” she hollered, wrapping her fingers in a death grip around the banisters and anything else she could reach.
“Keep your mouth shut!” the red-head called Katz snapped at her. He reached around and tried to put his beefy hand on her mouth, but she bit down on his flesh the second his fingers reached her lips.
“Ow!” he roared. “Bitch!”
She saw him rear back his fist. Then she saw nothing.
When she came to, her whole body ached. Every muscle throbbing, like she’d been twisted into a pretzel. Her eyelashes fluttered open. Flickering flourescents stung her eyes. Bleary, she gazed around in a dreamlike state until her senses slowly started to awaken.
She tasted glue. And blood. Took heavy humid breaths through her nose. She was on her side, on a concrete floor in a garage she didn’t recognize. The smell of motor oil and cleaning solution stabbed her nostrils. She gazed up at the shadowy, filthy undercarriage of a Rolls Royce lifted high up above her. Loud bangs jarred her out of slumber further. She faintly wondered who would be jackhammering—
Loud pops. Gunfire.
Her body went rigid, then sprung to life in terror. Attempting to open her mouth to scream, she realized that it was taped shut. Even slight movements of her jaw stung her flesh. She tried to sit up. Her arms tingled, like her limbs had fallen asleep. When she tried to move them she felt a sharp sting on her wrists.
Alarm started to take hold. She couldn’t move her arms or legs. She glanced down and passed her dirty, blood-stained shirt to the duct tape wrapping her ankles. It might as well have been iron. Her wrists were also firmly bound behind her. Trying to pull them on them felt like ripping off her own skin. She whimpered excruciatingly.
The sounds were getting closer. She glanced around, eyes begging for help. Searching frantically for any reprieve amidst the scattered car parts and junk.
The gunfire was getting closer.
She scooted, inching her way across the floor until she reached a work table. She was lining her spine up against the table leg when the garage door rattled open. She was out of time. A spill of light from outside lamps flooded in, blinding her. She could only vaguely recognized her own shrieks behind the wall of duct tape.
A group of people stood at the garage doors with their backs to the light. She watched their imposing silhouettes with horror.
A tall, male form approached her, his long black coat trailing behind him. Tears that she couldn’t contain sprang from her eyes. She was trapped, terrified, like a rabbit staring down a wolf. All she could focus on was the gun in the man’s hands as he stalked toward her. She squeezed her eyes closed, waiting to hear a final shot that would end her life.
“Easy, easy,” a familiar, deep, and soothing voice rolled over her. “Shh, don’t be scared, Honey.”
Her breath hitched. Eyes popped open.
Crouched down to her eye level was her tall, dark, and bitter friend. Ben—Peter—whatever his name was— the moment she recognized his soft chocolate eyes and the scattering of a peppery beard on his otherwise boyish face, she felt a wave of relief.
His leather glove still held firmly onto a pistol. The sight of it dropped her back to reality. Like a bucket of ice water being poured over her body. She shuddered as he scooted closer.
“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay,” he placated with a calm voice. “You’re okay.”
She wanted to believe him. He set his gun down on the concrete floor and reached for her with both hands. Another sound of a distant gunshot made her jolt. She recoiled away from his touch, shrinking herself up against the table leg.
He flinched at her reaction with a pained expression, as if she’d stabbed him. His hands faltered for a moment.
A man’s voice rang out from the group lingering behind, a youthful tone from someone barely older than a teenager. “Boss, we gotta go!”
A deeper voice called out in response, “C’mon, Pete. The calvary’s on the way. Get her on her feet! ”
Her eyes widened, tears streaming down her face. He stared back at her, his expression turning grim. She gazed up at her savior to realize that this was no true rescue.
A sickly feeling crept over her as she put the pieces together. Whatever this was, whatever was happening, whatever had happened to her—it was because of Peter.
Her tall, dark, and dangerous stranger. He grabbed her by the hips, scooting her closer. She wailed as he scooped her body up in her arms, dizzy with how fast and effortless it seemed. He carried her like a toddler having a tantrum, except she was restrained already.
Peter said nothing as he carried her out of the garage, barely looking at her, as he marched towards an idling, blacked-out SUV. She barely had time to spot the driver, a gorgeous woman with long silver hair.
She smirked at her, eyes sinister.
When the SUV finally came to a halt, all she knew is that they were in an underground parking garage. Her limbs felt heavy, the assault of adrenaline starting to take its toll. Few words were spoken during the car ride, and none to her. Thick tension filled the air.
She was on the floorboard, her cheek pressed up against the carpet. She gazed at the feet of two men seated in the back. One of them was the fresh-faced teenager she heard calling Peter ‘Boss.’ His name was Miles, she had heard. The other was a rugged, haunted-looking man, with large dark eyes fixed on the windows, ever watchful. Miles called him Miguel, before the older man shot him a look to stay quiet.
“That’s the unifying issue with the men in this car,” the woman driving the SUV snarked. “You all talk too much.”
Her heart hammered at the glint of a knife. Miguel opened a switchblade, grabbing her ankles.
“Whoa, hang on,” Miles talked to her—the first one to do so. “He’s gonna cut the tape, just so you can move your legs, okay?”
She gazed up at his soft dark eyes, her own still welling with tears. She felt the release on her legs give way as she kicked the rest of the tape off.
“Lights out,” a cold, distant voice ordered. The sound came from the front passenger seat, where Peter sat in tense silence.
Both Miles and Miguel seemed to hesitate, glancing at each other.
“You sure?” Miles questioned.
“He didn’t stutter,” the silver-haired woman replied, definitively. There was a bite in her voice, but it carried with it a tiredness filled with frustration. She sounded more like an older sister jabbing a younger sibling.
The woman popped open her door to get out. “Let’s go, boys. We got groceries inside.”
The world went black again. A dark hood was thrown over her head, obscuring her view.
Continue to Part 2
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Stuck in a sticky situation
Kinktober day 1: Tied up
Warnings: Tied up, use of nickname ‘Drac’ ‘Draculara’ ‘Princess’, Boyfriend! Peter Parker, Established relationship, Fem! Upset! Reader, slight angst, fluff at the end, after care, slut calling, praise, SoftDom! Peter Parker, Tied webbed to bed
2.5K words
You were having a hard enough day already, everything was off schedule and you were stressed, you were already 14 minuets late to your boyfriend, Peter Parker's, house, your phone had died, and you were not in the mood for mid-day New York traffic.
After 20 more wonderful minutes of Queens traffic you arrive to his apartment, buzzing him then heading up.
As soon as Peter opens the door to you, you collapse in to his warm arms, a comforting smell of cinnamon that he knew you liked so much filling your nostrils.
"You miss me, Drac?" He laughs out, stroking gently on the back of your head. You only let out a quick nod, not caring to step out of the doorway. "You tired, bad day?" You nod softly, a tear trickling down your cheek, the familiar lump in your throat bobbing back up. "Let's go to my room, Draculara, yeah?"
You both lay on Peter's bed, not saying anything, just holding one another peacefully, softly kissing every once in a while.
"You want anything to eat? I can't cook or bake but I own an air fryer? I'm sure I can make something you'd like in there?" Peter says; gently sitting up and placing your head comfortably on his thighs, stroking your soft hair, feeling fuzzy against his callous finger tips.
"Oh my god, dude, you know what would be so good right now? Fuckin' crinkle cut fries, they’re so good, you should make us some," You say smiling happily. "Please, Peter?" You beg happily, to your boyfriend's dismay he gets up and heads to his kitchen but not without turning around and lifting you out of his bed, he places an arm around you, walking you and himself to the kitchen, he pulls out a chair for you and goes to his freezer, getting the fries out as you pull your phone out.
"Drac? Who you texting?" He says; a tinge of jealousy pangs in his voice along with curiosity, as he goes on his toes to try and see.
"No one, i'm putting music on, Pete." You say, smiling as you hear the jealousy in his voice, knowing you would and could never see another person in the same way you love, or even like, him.
"What song, you thinking, bug?" He smiles at you, his smile lines were your favorite.
"Mm Pretty girls make graves, Love songs on the radio, or Luna?" You ask him looking up from your phone.
"I have no idea what songs those are, so you pick." He says, ogling over you just sitting there.
"Luna's a Smashing Pumpkin songs, and Pretty girls make graves is The Smiths, and then Love songs on the radio's Mojave 3" You state like it was the most common thing on the world.
"I'm sorry, Mojave 3?" He says checking on the fries, making sure they're cooking fine and not burning.
"Yeah, good band, promise."
"Put Love songs on the radio, whatever you pick'll sound good" You put on love songs on the radio, the soft melody filling yours and his eardrums as you stare at each other, content with the love you have for one another.
The fries finish and you sit peacefully with each other, the fries sat and watching from an oval bowl, you've both found your way to Peter's bed, eating and watching Hocus-Pocus on his laptop.
"He's cute," you say not thinking about it about Max from Hocus Pocus
"No he's not, he's probably ugly and old now." Peter says getting defensive which gets you smiling
"Peter, I think your beautiful."
"You do, Drac? You promise?" He says looking away, he's aware it's corny and sappy but he doesn't ignore his feelings.
"Yeah...I do, promise." You say softly, kiss between his forehead and hairline.
Peter kisses your lips softly, devouring your saliva like it was The Body of Christ, worshipping your every movement.
Those few kisses lead to you straddling his lap, he kisses your forehead as you go for his neck and collarbone, leaving small bites and hickeys all over.
"You know...May's working a 10 hour shift...we have a lot of time...only if you wanna..." He stuttered through every word, it wouldn't be your first time together intimately and certainly not last, but Peter was always respectful and careful to avoiding breaking boundaries and such.
"Mm a lot of time to do what?" You said intoxicatingly, the way your voice sounded induced him further, the apples of his cheeks growing red.
"You know...get together..." He said shyly; his pale face turning a light pink
"Oh yeah?" You say teasingly, not wanting to let the moment end.
"Yeah..." He says getting red. "Can we try something...new...together?" He suggests rather sheepishly
"Like what?" Yoh look at him with those beautiful eyes he loves so much
"Well it's October, Halloween season, and I have webs..."
"Whatcha suggesting, Pete?" You say brushing your hands through out parts of his hair
"Wanna tie you up...web you to the bed..." he says hiding his face in the crook of your neck
"What? Can't hear you?" You tease him further.
"Wanna tie you up and let me fuck you," he says louder, still hiding his face in your neck, leaving soft kisses.
"Do it then, pussy." You laugh softly out; teasing the poor boy to his wits end.
"Oh yeah? You gonna be a good girl and let me?"
"Please" You say looking into his eyes
"Want me to tie you up and fuck you? Yeah? Oh yeah?" He whispers; hesitating to go on
"Fuck, yeah, Pete. I need you" you breathe out, staring at him from on top of his lap.
He slides his shirt off, taking your shirt off of you as well, leaving you in only a bra. He lifts you off his lap and puts you sat back on his bed, elbows propped up beneath you. He soon slides down your pants revealing underwear.
"You look perfect, you know that? Gonna take such good care of you" He says grabbing the Vaseline from his bedside table, rubbing it softly on your wrists.
He gets up and grabs his web shooters you whimper as both your hands are webbed to his bed frame
He's careful to pull your bra above your soft and tender boobs carefully. He takes his callus hands spreading one knee to the side then soon the other, he smiles up at you at your slick spreads with your folds.
He massages around your nipples as you whimper, he brushes your cheek with his other hand, inserting his finger inside, stretching you with your slick
"That feel good ,baby, tell me when you want me, okay?"
"O-okay! I want you now, please! I need you, Parker" you beg, vulnerably.
"I'm gonna put it in, alright?" He says softly; pushing your hair out of your face as you nod rapidly.
He's hardened dick slowly teases your entrance, making sure to go slow not wanting to harm you. He's cold hands grabbing onto your hips, his palms cupping your ass and back of your thighs, while his thumb strokes the inside of your thighs, holding them apart.
His tip enters, he pulls in and out a few times trying to feel you out; leaving you whimpering for more.
He's soft to make sure he isn't hurting you; wanting your pleasure as much as his.
He goes all the way in, earning a grown from both of you. His moan was long and relieving.
“Parker, please, start moving.” You beg, your legs crossed around his hips, your hands gripping at the webbing.
“Be patient, Draculara, s’gonna take good care of you, yeah? You gonna be my good girl?” He teases, slowly moving his hips in and out. “Look at You? My pretty girl, all spread for me, all naked, tied up. Fuck I need you”
He pulls all the way out and slams back in, letting out a lewd moan, you whimper as your knees clamp against his waist.
“Fuck! Parker! Please, go harder, please baby?” You squirm and he lightly pinches at your nipple, caressing the other between his hand
“No, keep ‘em open for me, princess, or I swear I’ll stop.” He goes all the way out, leaving his tip in as he slams his hips in and out. “Yeah? You good princess- ah- fuck- you see how hard I am for you? Fuck- y-you see how my cock fucks you?” His hands Go to your waist, moving you up and down on his cock as he goes in and out.
“Fuck! Parker! Please, I’m begging you! Fuck me harder! Please Parker! Fuck- I need you- I want everyone to know I’m yours and I need you so badly, please, baby?” You beg, trying to move your hands; he lets out a chuckle watching you suffer as one finger goes to your clit and the other on your waist.
“I know, Princess, your doing so good for me, yeah? Just keep going for me, your gonna feel so much pleasure, s’yeah?” He goes faster, the lewd sounds of his moans filling the room, as you bite at your cheek, concealing the sounds of your loud moans.
“You feel so good in me- babe- babe! Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop, please! I- I- I- need you, please baby” you beg your knees clenching together, Peter looks down at you as he stops.
“What’d I say Princess? Spread ‘em Draculara. Maybe I’ll eat you out later if your good, okay? C’mon Princess be a good girl for me and spread ‘em legs?” He’s careful to not mess up your hair as he strokes your cheek
“I-I’m sorry, please, Peter, keep going?” You smile at him as he begins rubbing your clit, ghosting on top of it.
“I’m gonna start going, yeah?” He’s quick to put his cock back in, going slow at first, before putting it all in you, he quickly pulls out leaving just the tip before slamming all of him back in, not giving you time to adjust before fucking you faster then ever, while rubbing your clit with his callus fingers.
“You want it? Mm- yeah princess? You’ll have it. All of it, fuck- all of me. Oh- oh- fuck- mm” deep inhales leave his body, you hear his heavy breathing, his hand leaving your waist and going to your stomach, pressing down to see how far he is, making you go crazy
“Fuck, I love all of you in me, you’re so good to be, Parker, wanna see you cum, wanna see you cum in me, please- Fuck! I- I- I can take it, all of you. I promise.” You whimper out, your back arching forward as your squirm and yell out sinful moans.
“Mm- fuck- Drac- your driving me fuckin crazy- I’m so close- I’m so close- oh- oh- oh! Yeah! Fuck! I love you- princess fuck! Oh yeah? You really love me? Yeah? You gonna let me fuck you? Oh princess…oh fuck, oh what did I do to- ah- deserve this pretty pussy! Mm- please!” He goes faster, you can see this thigh muscles flexing , his cock twitching inside you with every movement.
“Oh- oh- oh! Please! F-fuck! Fuck me! Parker, please, I’m so in love with you, I’m so so in love with you. I need you! I need more of you! I need more of you in me!” You beg as you grind for any friction left.
“Drac- f-fuck! Your tiddies s’beautiful. Wanna suck on ‘em, can I? Please, oh- oh! Please baby let me suck on ‘em while I fuck you and hear your pretty m-moans?” He leans down and takes your boob in his mouth, swirling the warmth of his tongue on your erect nipple.
“Parker! Wanna cum with you! Please let me cum with you! P-please, oh! Oh! F-fuck, oh…oh…you’re so good to me, baby!” You whimper out grasping the webs as your hips lift off the bed.
“Princess- oh Drac! O-oh! Fuck- s’you…you slut…you are just so desperate for me, aren’t ya? You love this cock hard and deep in you? Look at you, didn’t even b-bother! F-fuck-to take your bra off fully, what kind of slut- oh- fuck! Can’t even wait to take her bra off!” He slams deeper within you, hitting the spongey spot that makes you feel so good, he goes up from your chest and leaves hickeys on your collar and moans into your mouth.
He slams his hips, bruising his bones at your entrance. He knows he’s close and he’s hoping you are too. He needs you to cum around his hard and veiny cock.
“F-fuck, my beautiful, smart girl, I’m so in- l-love with you babe! Fuck, can I cum in your pretty pussy, Drac? Pretty please, babe?” He begs with his brown doe eyes.
You don’t stop him, your mouth left agape from everything, his hands on your clit, one on your waist, his mouth against your neck. Soon the feeling of him warm, gooey, seamen fills you and he fucks it into you, it all becomes to much, his screams and yours fill the room.
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Don’t stop! Fuck me! Please! I’m cumming! I’m cumming! I’m cumming! Please, Parker! I love you!” You screams, your out of breathe and sweaty as his pace slows down, he kisses your cheek before slowly pulling out, being careful at his tip.
“S’You did so good for me, yeah? So good my princess. Was I Good for you?” He asks, kissing you and getting up, graving a warm wash cloth and wiping his cum out of you, careful to not hurt your tender cunt.
“Thank you, baby. You did so good, I love you.” He kisses you again. He gets an anti-web fluid and sprays it on your wrist, kissing them as he gets your wrists out.
“Wanna shower then cuddle? I wanna get you cleaned up, Drac” he says, rubbing Vaseline over the places where the webs had left purple and red. “S’My pretty pretty girl.”
“Yeah, shower then cuddle sounds good, thank you baby.” He sure you up and kisses your nipples then you, carrying you bridal to the bathroom, where you two were sure to have more fun.
Authors note: how we feeling about my first kinktober?
Tag-list:
@thedevax @tpaints @parkersmjs @eefeefeefeef12345 @whenisthefall @andr3wgarfieldsupremacist @blossoming-cee @d3adp00ls @aliengirl99 @just-levyy @nixxaswrld @mentallysickphysicallythicc @isretroavibe @olivezgalore @jakobsdump @crypticbutterfly5 @practicallylivesonline @did-someone-change-my-name @80pairsofcrocs
Comment to be added (will be posting tomorrows teaser shortly)
#tasm fanfiction#tasm#tasm!peter x y/n#tasm!peter parker#tasm!peter imagine#tasm!peter fluff#tasm!peter x reader#tasm!peter smut#tasm peter parker#tasm spiderman#tasm!spiderman x reader#tasm!peter x you#tasm 2#tasm!peter one shot#tasm!peter fanfiction#tasm! peter parker x reader#peter parker x reader#peter parker#andrew garfield#andrew garfield x reader#andrew garfield smut#andrew garfield x you#kinktober#kinktober 2023#mcu fandom#mcu x reader#mcu!peter x reader#mcu imagine#mcu!spiderman x reader#mcu!peter parker
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M A S T E R L I S T
hello!
welcome to my full masterlist. i hope you'll find something just right for yourself, and maybe you'd like to stay for more.
have a nice time reading,
mila xx
♡ Fade To Black ~7,3k words
YN loved Joel more than anyone ever. Joel was selfish and scared. They both made mistakes. It all led them to Bill's town and aftermath of what had happened, understanding something very important - love isn't always forever.
♡ ...deserved to experience ~4,3k words (part 2 to fade to black)
YN, Joel, and Ellie try to settle down in Jackson. Over the years, they have navigated their lives through all happy moments. Family expanded, and new feelings and roles were accepted. Joel has never been happier. Or is it just a movie?
♡ 10 essentials - social media - photographer!reader
Over the years YN did several photoshoots of Andrew for different magazines. When the pandemic began fans started to speculate. Finally, Andrew spills the tea during the '10 essentials' video and let people inside his life - very changed life.
♡ BRIT awards - slavic!reader ~7,2k words
After years of being together, six months of being engaged - YN and Harry are letting people know they're in love - it just happens to be BRITs 2023 award show.
♡ Easter Monday - slavic(polish)!reader ~1,3k words
Harry and YN spent their first Easter together. He wants to surprise YN with celebrating it the way she does in Poland - but Harry gets his knowledge from the internet, not the best source.
♡ Warsaw show - social media + blurb - slavic(polish)!reader
Harry plays one of the most important shows during the European leg of HSLOT - show where YN's granny is in the audience.
♡ to feel fulfilled - polish!reader ~ 3,6k words
During the day of the last Love on Tour show Harry intends to do three things: satisfy his fiancée, make granny's dream come true and put on the best performance for his fans.
♡ ...marry me? - polish!reader ~ 1,2k words
Harry is drunk and YN is the angel that he dreamt of.
♡ Let's play tennis! - social media - tennis player!reader
Harry's dating WTA no. 1 tennis player - YN YSN.
♡ Can't hear haters when you're slaying - social media - tennis player!reader
Harry and YN (WTA no. 1 tennis player) are still going strong despite all the bullying they receive.
♡ BLURB - YN and Harry go for a run in London - tennis player!reader
♡ My love, we were in Paris - tennis player!reader ~ 1,7k words
Harry surprises YN after her third win in French Open.
♡ Wimbledon - tennis player! reader ~ 0,9k words
YN lost at Wimbledon, but Harry is still proud of her.
♡ Winning - social media - tennis player!reader
In which YN won Wimbledon, people think they broke up and internet breaking.
♡ Daylight - social media - equestrian!reader
For filming Daylight MV, Harry needed some horse riding lessons.
♡ 'The Higgs professor' - social media - physicist!reader
After being sent a video of Dr YN YSN, explaining Higgs mechanism with Harry's music, Harry finds himself infatuated. Then he meets her at Oppenheimer's after party, and the rest is history.
♡ Dispersion - social media - physicist!reader - part 2
NYC is welcoming one of the most famous physicists, and things seem to look great. More physics in pop terms and more of the sweet couple. For some time.
♡ Fired? - social media - physicist!reader - part 3
The leak is hard on everybody, especially YN. Internet wants to fire her from Oxford. And Harry, Harry is like always there for her.
♡ Recommendations - social media - booktuber!reader
The new series on ynrecommends channel on YT caught Harry's attention. After some time, they are joined at the hip. As friends. Right?
♡ If he doesn't have books, don't sleep with him - social media - booktuber!reader - part 2
The rumours are swirling around Harry and YN on whether they are together. In their usual style, they are confusing, so nobody knows. Till, YN posts that one picture on her IG.
♡ Music videos - social media - famous!reader
Harry and YN have been together since 2013. And from the moment Harry started his solo career, YN is there, in the music videos, or behind the scenes. And if it's not her, it's one of their two babies. Soon to be three.
♡ Third baby - social media - famous!reader
Harry and YN have their third baby and some people still don't know how to behave around a breastfeeding person.
♡ Daddy's house - social media - famous!reader
New Pleasing drop comes with new ambassadors - quite little ambassadors.
♡ Love language - boyfriend!Harry
Harry's love language is physical touch, especially kissing you. Here are just a few types of them. !contains suggestive content!
♡ Kisses - boyfriend!Harry
After establishing their love language, YN and Harry are not shy about it. And YN loves smothering Harry in kisses after his first LOT show.
♡ Popstars - social media - popstar!reader
YN and Harry have been together for years. The problem is, even after being spotted kissing, they won't admit it at the beginning. Oh, there also is Judie and Teddy - their cute, little kids.
♡ Goldie - social media - swimmer!reader
Harry follows a competitive swimmer, YN on IG, and (lies you can imagine) it breaks the internet. YN attends his shows and their relationship just grows.
♡ Happy birthday, rockstar - social media - director!reader
YN's social media posts over the years wishing Joe a happy birthday. (part of an Action! series)
Harry x (ex)director!reader x Joseph Quinn
A story, where Harry and YN fall in love at Sign Of The Times music video set, challenge their relationship over the years, eventually fall apart and the aftermath of that break-up.
social media:
part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6
written parts:
▪︎ first date ~2,8k words
A short story about two people being nervous on their first date.
▪︎ tolerate it ~3k words
YN sees how much Harry is distancing. Confrontation happens, unfolding cascade of events and feelings YN has buried within herself. Is this the end?
▪︎ champagne problems (part 2 to tolerate it) ~3k words
YN thinks Harry wants to save their relationship after the argument they've had. He thinks that, too. But the definition of saving can differ.
▪︎ heartbreak anniversary ~3,4k words
Harry holds an emotional conversation with his therapist, and then his family. If it wasn't heart-wrenching enough, Anne and Gemma have some news to share - something to tip the scales at the breaking point.
a/n: headers are made by me. if use, please give credit.
#masterlist#joel miller x reader#andrew garfield x reader#harry styles x reader#joseph quinn x reader#joel miller#andrew garfield#harry styles#joseph quinn#the last of us#harry styles masterlist#joel miller x you#andrew garfield x you#harry styles x you
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Hey do you have any reblog drafts or saved links i can use on the wayback machine to find the "Velvet Haze" fic? I'm trying to find it since the author deactivated. plzzzzz helppp
Hello dear! I tossed and turned around and reviewed all the fanfic reblog tags, and found almost every chapter of this amazing fanfic called "Velvet Haze". I couldn’t find chapter 2, I'm so sorry. The others are here:
Chapter 1: Green Green Dress
Chapter 3: Sweet Disposition
Chapter 4: A Sufficiently Clear Admission
Chapter 5: Tortured By The Expectation Of Pleasure
Chapter 6: Pure Honey
Chapter 7: Definitely Absolutely Certainly
I hope I helped you in some way. ✌🏼
#andrew garfield#andrew garfield x reader#andrew garfield x ofc#andrew garfield x you#andrew garfield blurb#andrew garfield smut#andrew garfield oneshot#andrew garfield one shot#andrew garfield fan fiction#andrew garfield fanfic#andrew garfield fan fic#andrew garfield fanfiction#peter parker#peter parker x reader#peter parker x ofc#tasm peter parker x you#peter parker fanfic#peter parker smut#peter parker fanfiction#tasm peter parker#tasm peter#tasm fanfiction#tasm#velvet haze fic#velvet haze#sincericida#ask box#ask request#fanfic's compilation#request
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Love at first drink ┃Andrew Garfield
a/n: I wanted to write something abt andrew bc I love him sm so here it is 🤎
Within the chaos of New York, Andrew Garfield was captivated by the enchanting aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafting through a quaint little coffee shop in a small area of the big city. It became a daily ritual for him to visit, every morning at the same time without fail, not only for the coffee they sold, but also to visit the lovely girl behind the counter.
Her name was Y/N (he knew it from the small pin she wore on her uniform that said that name, clearly at that moment he didn't have the courage to ask her that) and she had a smile that could light up the room. Andrew couldn't help but be drawn to her warm and welcoming presence. Every day he found excuses to strike up conversations with her, whether it was her talking about the weather, the latest movies, or strangely delicious coffee combinations.
As the days passed, Andrew realized that his visits were no longer just for coffee; They were about Y/N. Every day he anxiously waited to cross the doors of that coffee shop to see her smile, hear her voice even for a short time and touch her hand when he grabbed his coffee.
Andrew discovered that Y/N had a passion for photography and art, a hobby she pursued outside of her job at the café. In the other hand, he had confessed her that they shared the same hobbies and that he had the privilege of working on something similar.
One morning, he decided it would be that day or he would chicken out again, so Andrew mustered up the courage to ask Y/N out on a date.
''Here you go'' she said handing over his coffee with the little note she always left in his cup.
''T-thanks y/n'' he smiled, taking his coffee and walking away from the counter, but in less than 2 minutes he returned.
She was a little surprised to see him again, had she missed something in his order?
Andrew looked into Y/N's eyes and in a nervous voice asked her what he had wanted to ask her for the last two weeks.
''Y/N, you are an amazing girl and I really really like you, could I have the honor of taking you on a date?''
Y/N's eyes widened with surprise, but a warm smile spread across her face. "I would love to, Andrew," she replied.
He smiled, relieved and excited. "However, there is one thing I want to mention," he added, a hint of apprehension in his voice. "I am in the public eye and sometimes people can recognize us. There may be times when someone wants to take photographs and I would like you to know that and keep that in mind, privacy is really not something I can have 100% and if you don't feel comfortable, I would understand that you would reject the date."
Y/N nodded understandingly. "Andrew, I don't care at all. I like you for who you are, not just the actor that people know. I may not get used to it at first but I don't want that to stop me from being able to date the amaizing guy I have infront of me. Let's enjoy our time together, and if photos come our way, we'll handle it together."
With those words, any lingering tension melted away. The couple went later on a lovely date, exploring the city, sharing laughter, and taking funny photos of each other. Y/N's genuine affection for Andrew was evident and her calming presence assured him that their connection was real.
As their relationship deepened, they faced the challenges of public scrutiny together. Y/N's support and understanding made Andrew appreciate her moments even more. Through the ups and downs, they stood by each other, a testament to the power of love that transcends fame and ordinary life.
Having started a relationship did not mean the end of his little ritual before starting his day. Every morning without fail, Andrew continued to go for his daily coffee to the small cafe where Y/N continue working.
And she would receive him with a kiss and his special order along with her little note on his cup.
#andrew garfield#andrew garfield imagine#andrew garfield x reader#andrew garfield fanfiction#andrew fanfic#andrew garfield x y/n#andrew garfield x you#andrew garfield x female reader#the amazing spider man#remus lupin
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i'm just saying you can do better; {p.p.}
Pairing: peter parker x f!reader (gif is tasm but you can interpret this as any peter parker)
Summary: tell me have you heard that lately? i'm just saying you can do better... and i'll start hating only if you make me. (lyrics by drake, marvin's room)
translation: you and peter have been best friends for years, you had a crush on him but eventually got over it and he noticed you're about to move on to some other guy. he just had to get something off his chest before you did that
Warnings: friends to lovers, smut, alcohol mentions (margarita, beer, shots), vaginal fingering/sex, oral sex, praise kink (if you squint), jealousy, language, unprotected sex, 18+, NSFW
Word Count: 5.6k (2.4k is smut LOL)
A/N: once i decided on a title for this fic i couldnt stop humming marvins room sjdjnfjnd but yeah this was fun to write it was a previously abandoned wip (my first one ever for peter actually) that i revised the plot for almost entirely and this came out way better than i expected shout out to my oomf / friend for reading both times
She usually kept to herself and her closest friends, Peter being her best one. And don’t get her wrong, she loved Peter. There were no words for how much adoration she had for him, but unfortunately, she wasn't the only one.
Peter was their college’s most eligible bachelor, how could he not be? Top of his class, the freshmen’s favorite Physics TA and possibly the cutest guy at the school. Don’t get him wrong, he’s not necessarily a playboy but it was definitely a step up from his social standing from Midtown High. He enjoyed the attention, he’d be a fool not to. Especially because he’s being noticed as himself and not just when he’s in the suit. So yeah, he went on a few dates here and there. Hooked up with a couple people in the bathrooms of frat parties. Even flirted while he was helping students on their problem sets.
Unfortunately for her, she had to hear all about it afterwards.
Whether it’s from his end, a guy talking about the encounter in the dining hall or a girl talking about it before her organic chemistry lecture. She wasn’t the biggest fan of it, it hurt seeing someone she loved dearly, after realizing how deeply that love ran once he was single again, not manifest into a deeper relationship. Peter had been a core part of her life since high school, Aunt May adored her, her family adored him. She was even there for his break up with Gwen Stacy so she could study abroad.
As they got older she understood those were the things that just came with being the best friend to someone who was as amazing as Peter which is why she didn’t risk changing it. She accepted her place in his life and eventually those feelings of consistent jealousy that would flare during the first few months of their freshman year subsided. Sometimes they would come back up but she pushed it aside as false hope as there were outside parties involved. For example, the few times when her friends (that weren’t also his) accused him of being flirty. Each time, nothing came of it. So she refused to read too much into it until he said it explicitly.
She finally chose to actively move on from this high school crush, that she even started seeing someone from one of her classes and they were planning a third date for this weekend. This, because of course, came up during their hang out with their mutual friends in her and Felicia’s campus apartment. They were hanging out to take the edge off after midterms from last week and crowded in the kitchen counter playing bartender during. This was one of the rare times Peter could make it, so she appreciated the quality time with him.
After Felicia made a small margarita for her, she started asking how it was going with Johnny from the Bioethics course. Everyone’s chatter dropped considerably because everyone was interested in the prospective relationship in bloom with the Johnny Storm. She stuttered before clearing her throat, clearly embarrassed.
“It’s fine. I mean, he’s really sweet of course. And fun-”
“So have you guys hooked up?” Felicia cuts off. Peter smirks before looking to her for her response.
She feels her stomach flipping at his sudden attention to her answer.
She plays it off before responding, clearing her throat. “Yeah,” she shoots a grin meeting with the eyes across the room before the room erupts in a light cheer.
“We’re actually gonna see eachother again this weekend and go to his place in the city.” She smiles to herself in excitement. She bites the bottom of her lip as her friends shoot quirked up eyebrow glances her way.
“Well let’s celebrate! You're gonna get some from THE Johnny Storm! Bottoms up!” Felicia announces. The rest of her friends follow suit as she tries to laugh off the burning up of her cheeks and ears, not realizing the news of her sex life would be this exciting.
Peter bitterly smirks before taking a swig of his beer. He didn’t understand why this was such a big deal that Felicia practically had to make a show of it.
He also didn’t understand his annoyance and attempted to play it off. It increasingly became hard as the questions advanced and she continued blushing, describing the last few dates with him. Peter’s ears particularly perked up at the study date she had with him, finding out that she had canceled on him for Johnny through this.
Peter felt a twinge of disappointment in his stomach at this, not knowing if it was friend jealousy or something more. He knows he can’t be exactly mad, since the hangout they had planned was usually offhand, and he more often than not skipped out on those due to Spider-Man activities, simultaneously lying. He couldn’t blame her for eventually reciprocating, but for a boy? He hadn’t felt that let down by her since she admitted to him she thought his Bugle coworker Eddie Brock was cute.
Peter took another swig of his drink distractedly, causing Harry to ask if something was on his mind, but he shook his head quickly, lying to alleviate any worries from his friend.
As the night progresses and everyone decides that they’re the perfect amount of buzzed for a game night. After a few rounds of the card game B.S., she decides Candyland would be perfect, remembering that she has the game in her room. Not wanting to get up, she asks Peter to get it for her underneath her bed while he’s up throwing away his drink.
He obliges and turns to her room door, opening it. His eyes narrow at the picture of him and her next to her bed, accompanied by other pictures he’s taken for their group outings. His pace quickened up across the room and he reached for the frame. Peter quickly turned behind him to make sure no one was coming in to check and turned back to smile at it. He remembered this day fondly, the day they went to the state fair and won her a plushy of her favorite animal. In this photo he noticed how big she was smiling while he was only smiling at her posing happily. Peter used his spidey skills to his advantage and just played it off, to soak into her admiration when he won.
He put it back down as he sensed the footsteps coming behind the door to reveal her opening her room door confused.
“Pete, what are you doing? Hurry up, Harry is suggesting body shots again.” She giggled before sauntering over his body standing in front of her nightstand. He chuckled at the comment before she crouched down to get the game underneath her bed. She rose back up on her feet to meet his eyes, following her.
“You’re being a weirdo,” She said putting her hand on his broad shoulder, with a false concern in voice causing him to laugh.
He inhaled a little before quipping. “Are you ditching me to hang out with this new guy?” His voice raised a pitch to ensure the friendliness of the inquiry, attempting to mask his genuine offense.
She then shrugged, and face suggesting she didn’t know or care what he was talking about. It was that moment Peter officially identified his feelings as jealousy.
“If you’re referring to the one time,” she emphasized ‘one’, making Peter feel guilty enough to hang his head low in response, “I canceled on you then yes.” She rubbed the hand she still had on him on his shoulder.
“I’m sorry and I’ll give you a heads up next time. Now can we go so you can stop acting like such a baby?” She playfully tapped his cheeks with her palm but he caught her hand, holding it a little longer than usual.
Peter drank her gaze onto him as his hand engulfed hers, still remaining on her face. His fingers intertwined with hers as he leaned his face into her hand. Her breath hitched at the affection he was showing and slowly removed her hands from his, worried that one of their friends would see them with the door wide open. She broke eye contact, suddenly finding the boardgame in her other hand much more interesting.
“C’mon, let’s go,” Peter’s voice interrupted her thoughts, and soon after so did his hand as it landed on the small of her back, caressing that area lightly until he found her hand again to quickly lead them way out the room.
The rest of the night was odd to say the least.
Peter’s hands were always grazing hers, or finding themself right on top of her thighs. Whether it was to flag her down from the competitive streak they were both showing from the game or laughing at her reaction to one of his bad jokes, his hands were just constantly on her body.
Similar to other instances where she felt confused by Peter’s sudden affection, she attempted to play it off, but it got to a point where it was causing her heart to beat faster and a familiar heat to form within her stomach.
She let out a silent breath of relief that her friends began to leave, expecting Peter to soon leave with Harry. She went to the kitchen to throw food away but found Felicia looking back at her with a mischievous but apologetic look on her face.
“What?” She raised her eyebrow, ready to exclaim at her for leaving her with a mess when she agreed to set up if Felicia cleaned at the end.
“I have plans, sorry babe, but I will cook and clean tomorrow. I promise!” Felicia then dashed out after hugging her body quicker than she could think to respond, followed by the door closing behind her.
She sighed, slightly annoyed that out of all times for Felicia to mysteriously disappear yet again, that she had to do it the night she would clean up. Quickly, she decided to get over it, said her goodbyes to mostly everyone and noticed Harry and Peter still talking. She decided to ignore it until they would eventually make their exit and started on the dishes while they had their conversation.
“You’re not coming back tonight man?” Harry asked, confusion all over his face.
“No I will. Something just came up, so I'll see you later, yeah?” Peter averted Harry’s eyes and Harry understood, or at least assumed he did. Just another one of Peter’s mysterious disappearances, so he left without any further questions.
Harry quickly said bye to the hostess of the night causing her to look up from the sink when she saw Peter still in their apartment.
“Are you still here, Parker?” She sounded in disbelief, causing Peter to scoff.
“Am I not allowed to spend quality time with my best friend now?” She looked up from the sink to see him clutching his heart as if he had been stabbed, making her shake her head at his dramatics.
“For your information, I wanted to stay,” He added on. She wiped down the sink and washed her hands before walking back into the main room where he had sat on the couch, landing on the spot in front of him.
“I believe it’s called overstaying your welcome,” She bantered, causing him to playfully push her by her shoulder.
“Whatever,” He rolled his eyes as the silence of the apartment filled the air. They both noticed it, realizing whatever was there in her room earlier was still in the atmosphere, especially prevalent now that they were officially alone.
“I can’t believe you’re going out with him,” He puffed, muttering it a bit low compared to his usual volume. She furrowed her eyebrows, annoyed at the insuitation.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” She laughed pushing his shoulder back, mimicking his movement from earlier.
“No not like that, I just feel like you can do better than him,” Peter let the statement roll off his tongue and she froze in response, attempting to understand what he just said. Her eyes landed on the ground, avoiding him again before she could think of a proper reaction.
She quickly shook off what she thought it sounded like, which she thought was jealousy and just took the safe, protective best friend route.
“Should I have gotten your approval first?” She smirked, looking back up at him, reaching over to hold his hand in the safe way they always have.
Peter took it a step farther, just like how he did earlier, and intertwined his fingers with hers yet again.
“I think you should be with someone who’s more your type you know? A little more thoughtful,” Peter started, rubbing his fingers along the pad of her thumb.
“He’s cool I guess, but you shouldn’t be with someone who’s so cocky,” He stated, making her laugh, causing him to laugh as well.
“See you’re enjoying this. You want me to talk about him and beg you not to see him again?” Peter joked, causing her to gasp out as his accusations.
“Peter, you started this,” She pointed out, making his cheeks turn a few shades brighter at her acknowledgment. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you but it also just sounds like you’re describing yourself.” She comments before she could think, embarrassed at her assertion, but she knew if she didn’t call him out he wouldn’t stop it. The last thing she needed was one of her friends not approving of a guy she was seeing.
“I’m your type?” He clocked her. She didn’t know how to react so she watched his face for any hint of how to proceed. He only smirked with a smile playing on his lips, letting her know how much he was enjoying this.
“Oh shut up,” She smiles playfully before hitting him with her nearest throw pillow, him yelling out a whine, knowing it didn’t hurt.
“For your information,” She started, mocking his voice from earlier. “You’re being just as cocky as him right now.” She firmly stated as he placed the pillow back in lap.
Peter shrugged before readjusting himself to sit closer in front of her, dangerously close. It went back to feeling like 30 minutes earlier when he was all over her body.
“Yeah? But it’s okay when I do it.” Peter teased, leaning his head on the couch watching his presence words fluster her. He could feel her heart picking up its pace and it dizzied him, knowing the type of effect he had on her.
“I didn’t say that,” She argued back, making him draw his breath back in before egging on her claim from earlier.
“But I’m your type,” He stated, she sighed in defeat, knowing he wasn’t going to drop it and played into it due to this.
“I guess you are Peter,” She states lightly. If Peter didn’t have his Spidey senses on overdrive right now, he would’ve been convinced by the nonchalant act she put on right now. Instead, he respected her commitment to not allowing him to win, even when she’s flirting back.
“Then how come you’re not going out with me?”
What he said stunned her, she faltered momentarily before shrugging again with a smile.
“You never asked,” She stated, a smile bouncing off of her lips watching Peter form an answer. They decided to skip over the fact that they had been friends for almost 6 years, but she knew that her honest answer was that the mere idea of him going out with her was out of the question because of it.
Until now.
He remained still for a moment and she fixated on where their hands met instead, wondering if they had ever held hands like this before. While she was thinking, and while Peter used his free hand to tuck her hair behind her hair, she realized the answer was never, because it had always been much more innocent. However, tonight was anything but that.
“Can I try something?” His voice finally registered in her ears. Confused at his sudden switch, she nods.
Peter hesitates, going in to kiss her. Peter’s soft lips connect to hers as his hand cups her face. She instinctively deepened the kiss, silently asking for Peter’s permission to do so. Their breaths began to shake from the intensity of the kiss.
She practically lost her bearings when Peter’s hands made their way to her waist, pulling her towards his chest. She held onto his bicep, now flexed, as he hooked his hand underneath her leg to pull her around his hips where he sat.
They were an entangled mess, Peter placing her where he wanted and her obliging, but not coming up for air as she leaned even more into the kiss. Peter chuckled in between the kisses when he eventually grabbed her hips to hover above his own. She groaned at his strength, leaning back in to attack his neck and jaw in kisses.
She eventually started to nibble on his neck, finding his sensitive spot. He pants out, attempting to slow down her movements before bringing her closer.
“Fuck, you’re really going in on me there,” He muttered before he forcefully plopped her onto him causing her to grind on his forming erection, grinning at his acknowledgment. Peter placed his hand on her back and pushed her closer to his chest, nose and forehead pressed against one another with only the sounds of their breathing filling the room.
She leaned into his ear whispering lowly, “You like it.” She readjusted herself on him slightly, to grab on the waistband of his pants, tugging it down before snaking her other hand on the print straining against the fabric of his jeans.
Peter groaned, dick twitching in his pants from simultaneous surprise and arousal. He didn’t realize how different it would be sleeping with a close friend, but also underestimating how she would be in a sexual context.
He threw his head back as she unbuttoned his pants, in disbelief of what was happening right now. When he brought his head back up to watch her movements he saw her kneeled before him on the ground, rubbing his erection through his boxers.
“Fuck, slow down,” He breathed out while pulling his jeans off. Right after, Peter raised his t-shirt right above his abs while she pulled his boxers down, cock semi-hard.
Her eyes glazed over his body, only semi familiar with it whenever their friends went to the beach or the pool. She tried to hide her shock at he’s become exponentially toned since high school and just seemed to be getting bigger despite never actively going to the gym. She chose to pay it no mind and focused on his cock.
Mainly because she hated how attractive Peter looked right now, hair messy, shirt halfway off and looking down at her, closely watching her movements. The attention he was giving her was enough to make her want to shut down immediately. Their eye contact remained intense, both blown out with lust, both because of the compromising position the other was in.
She maintained eye contact and wrapped her hand around his length, slowly jerked her hand around him. When he was hard enough, she placed one hand at the base of his cock and another right on top, running her thumb over the slit a few times once the pre cum came out. She looked down at the wetness pooling out from him and focused on her movements, not wanting to lose this pace he had been receptive to. He was fully erect at this point, almost bucking his hips into her hands getting him off.
Peter was choking back his moans before he finally spoke. “Don’t be a tease,” He muttered.
She giggled and the noise went straight to his dick, causing him to buck once more in her hands.
Without saying anything, she placed the hand that had been on the base of his erection on his thigh and opened her mouth in an obscene way that was unfamiliar to Peter. Before he could take a mental picture of it, she slowly licked the underside of his cock up to his tip and wrapped her lips around him, her eyes never leaving his.
He whispered a curse under his breath from the scene in front of him, realizing this was just the beginning.
Her tongue swirled around the head of his cock, collecting the pre-cum that was previously spurting out and she dipped her head lower, dropping the eye contact to which Peter had a brief sigh of relief, becoming intimidated by the intimacy of it all. She shifted her focus on taking him whole and started to bob her head on him, engulfing his length with her mouth.
He started puffing out, mumbling praises that only encouraged her. “Fuck, you’re taking me so good,” She only nodded, attempting to take him deeper while swishing her mouth around him and continuing to bob.
Peter felt a tension forming in his stomach and wanted to tell her to stop but it escaped his head as quickly as it came because of how good her mouth felt. Peter fought the urge to instinctively thrust into her mouth and just cupped the back of her head, pushing the hair out of her face as she continued to gag around him, the wet noises mixing in with his moans.
“Don’t hurt yourself babe,” He said before moving a hand that was around her head to her cheek, making her look up at him. She bobbed her head a few more times, this time more shallowly and popped off his dick, gasping for air.
A trail of her saliva dripped from her lips to the head of his cock making his stomach burst with butterflies from the image of how flushed, and fucked out she looked from the immaculate head she just provided him with. His heart swelled from the action and all he could do was wipe the spit from her chin and cup her face.
“C’mere here,” He mumbled, bringing her to stand on her feet and lean down to kiss him. He kissed her rougher than the first time, presumably from the desire he’s built up from the foreplay. She was still trying to pace her breathing and he could tell so he slowed down, but snaked his hands down to the waistband of her jeans, reciprocating the unbuttoning of her pants like she had done for him.
She broke the kiss to replace his hands with hers and slipped them off. Shortly after she removed her top, revealing herself clad in some lacy underwear and a bra, standing before him.
“No fair, Parker,” She commented. He was briefly confused until she grabbed the hem of his shirt to remove it off of him, admiring his toned, relaxed figure in full view now. She kneeled back down on the couch cushions, her warm core hovering above his dick, teasing him as he could feel the heat on him with her knees on either side of his legs.
He brought his hand in between her thighs, attempting to move her underwear to the side but paused at the wetness of her through the fabric.
“So wet,” He tsked, making her smirk when he looked back up to her studying his movements. He placed her fingers firmly against her nub through the fabric, to which she grinded against, needing to feel his large fingers against her now throbbing clit.
“Impatient, too,” He added, finally moving her panties to the side to insert a finger, making her throw her head back. She unconsciously rocked her hip forward at the penetration to which he met by repeatedly thrusting into her before adding another.
Both his index and middle fingers were fucking her, long and slender but big enough to feel the pleasure of the stretch once she had relaxed around him. Peter eventually curled his fingers inside of her and flicked his wrists while inside of her, causing her to squirm on top of him. The sounds of her wetness coincided with her moans, progressively getting more sensitive and impatient.
“I’m gonna cum if you keep doing that,” She hissed at him, unable to control the steady rocking of her hips on his hands.
“Good,” He said with a hint of satisfaction in his voice. He brought his other thumb to rub her clit, making her movements sputter and breathing erratic as he played with her to her finish.
Peter felt her clenching around him more frequently and took advantage of it to thrust faster, curling his fingers back up to create more friction. She whined out at the change of pace and stimulation added onto her clit before eventually feeling the built up tightness in the lower pit of her stomach release, signifying her finish.
She continued to clench around his fingers as he continued to finger her despite her orgasm. She sobbed at the sensitivity she began to help but couldn’t help but continue rocking her hips into his fingers, riding them once again. She resumed panting out his name, begging him for something but couldn’t form the words.
“What?” He said, barely slowing down the thrusts of his fingers.
“Fuck me,” She responded, hardly audible from the groans surrounding the statement.
He nods, removing his fingers from her core, making her gasp at the sudden absence of him. She made quick work of her underwear, slipping them off her legs while Peter wrapped his hand around his cock, attempting not to completely jerk off to the sight of her.
She returned to her previous position, covering her completely naked form over Peter’s, feeling the tip of him right under to her wetness.
She sank down on him, both wincing at the feeling of each other. All Peter could focus on was the softness of being inside her, her skin, the flesh of her thighs being wrapped around him, the closeness of their chests being pressed up against each other and the brief vulnerability she was displaying by wrapping her arms around his shoulders. He felt faint at the presence of her scent while her head was tucked into his neck, combined by the steady sensation of her rocking her hips onto his cock.
“Peter,” She moaned.
“Yeah?” Peter was hardly taken out of his thoughts, answering automatically as he grabbed onto the flesh of her hips to control at the speed he thrusted into her from under.
“You feel so,” She groaned before continuing “So fucking good Pete. You feel fucking amazing inside of me.” She finished before plunging down faster onto him, making him look at her mouth agape. He could feel her clenching even harder and more frequently around him, combined with her wetness from the previous orgasm and just from sucking him off, it was almost too much.
Peter looked down to see where they connected and saw his skin glistening just from her arousal, and felt even more turned on.
“You’re gonna kill me,” He stated mindlessly, still in awe of how sexy she looked right now. In Peter’s point of view, he struggled with deciding what to focus on.
The way her tits bounced in front of his face, the way her ass and thighs felt when they smacked on top of his thighs repeatedly, causing the the jiggle of her body to be even more apparent, or how fucking close she was holding him. She alternated from both her hands clenching into his shoulders, or one hand on the nape of his neck and another pulling on his brown curls.
A bonus was how she sounded moaning his name and a string of praises for how he made her feel.
Of course, she noticed this.
“You like that don’t you?” Her voice caught his attention, barely realizing she was actually asking him a question
“What?” He breathed out, sounding just as fucked out as he looked, the sweat of each other making his hair stick to his forehead.
“When I say nice things to you,” She obliged to Peter’s physical request of her to slow down, which was him just forcing her movements to stop by the way he grabbed her.
“Mmm,” He didn’t answer, just closed his eyes and threw his head back on the couch, avoiding her quizzical stare.
“C’mere,” She said, pulling herself forward by pushing her weight on his shoulders and rising from his, now aching, cock.
Peter’s attention was caught, he shook his head in disbelief of her and opened his eyes, still hanging low to hide his irritation that her heat wasn’t surrounding him anymore.
“You’re so cute when you’re upset,” She fake pouted, then proceeded to giggle. Peter didn’t want to find it as cute as he did but he couldn’t help himself.
“You really are a fucking tease, you know that?” He growled before grabbing her by her thighs to lower herself back onto him and raised his hips from the couch to fuck her on his own pace. The force from his strength caused her entire body to rock from each thrust, but she relished in it, moaning out praise for how good it made her feel.
“Peter,” She yelped at a particularly hard thrust. “Just like that,” Peter’s head spun at this.
“Yeah, keep doing that, please,” She begged, fucking begged, Peter to maintain the force he had brought upon her. It was then he knew he played right into what she wanted when she taunted him for his praise kink. (He was then making a mental note of how well she knows him and how he’s probably just a little predictable.)
Peter was practically drooling to see her come apart on top of him like this, he threw his head back in the pillows once again to enjoy the view and moved one of his hands to her clit, putting pressure on her, bringing her closer to her orgasm.
He felt it building up by the way she clenched on his cock and couldn’t contain his moans any more.
“Moan, please I wanna hear you when you cum inside me,” She commented once he let a particularly loud one escape his lips. He was both shocked and embarrassed at the effect she had on him, because he almost came apart immediately at the invitation to cum inside her.
“You sure?” He whined, trying to bring her to finish before him.
“Yeah, I’ll be right there with you,” She said, finding his other hand on her waist and intertwining his fingers with her.
“Please?” Once those words left her lips he was finished. He instantly came inside her, her following right after.
Their orgasms swept them both away, sensitivity coming right after as she struggled to detach herself from him. Peter didn’t allow this and continued to fuck her through both their orgasms, relishing the pain and the pleasure this decision came with.
Her head was back in the crook of his neck when their movements slowed down and they had to catch their breaths.
Once their hearts reached a normal rate and they removed themselves off of each other, Peter broke the silence.
“Are you still going to see him?” He asked rather timidly. She didn’t understand the sudden shyness but decided not to comment on it. She shrugged in response before answering honestly.
“Probably,” She averted eye contact with him, looking at where their hands connected, ignoring their full frontal nudity because this was somehow more vulnerable.
Peter’s heart dropped, he wasn’t expecting that response, nor his reaction to that response. Without thinking about the weight of what he was going to say next, because he hadn’t been doing much of that tonight, he continued.
“What if you go out with me instead?”
She looked him in the eyes again before responding. She didn’t know what she saw in his eyes. It was a mixture of fear, desire and hope.
Then, it was her turn not to think before she responded.
“Like on a real date?” She realized how that sounded when she said it aloud.
Peter nods, knowing what she meant.
“I meant what I said about us,” He paused, watching for her reaction. She hung onto his words, encouraging him to continue. “I want to go out with you and if I’m your type then what’s stopping us?” He joked. In her head this was so unsurprising because it seemed right up his alley to joke about some offhand comment she made before they literally had sex and laughed, because of how predictable her best friend is.
“Well why didn’t you say anything before?” She inquires, shaking her head at how ridiculous he sounded. She studied his features again before he answered, watching him turn a few shades of pink.
“I didn’t want to mess anything up. I don’t fuck my friends you know.”
“Up until now,” Peter smirked at this comment, she was always so quick to rival his own quips.
He let the silence simmer before responding because he wasn’t sure just how she felt about this, him, or what they just did. He was afraid he had permanently damaged the friendship and wasn’t sure how he was gonna come back from it if that were the case.
So, he asked.
“Is it weird now?” He spoke barely above a whisper.
“What part?” She had to ask before she could answer.
“That we did it backwards.” He exasperated, feeling unsure of himself now that he had to verbalize what he meant.
She shrugged again, this time affectionately, not wanting Peter to get frustrated with her or himself.
“Maybe it can be a good weird,” She affirmed his anxiety by clarifying.
Peter’s stomach erupted in butterflies. “Yeah?” He raised his eyebrow in excitement.
“Yeah.” She bit her lip before leaning in to kiss him once again.
His hands dropped back down to her waist to bring her in closer as the certainty between them was solidified.
A/N: okay so when i was writing this i imagined comic book f4 johnny storm especially bc of the dynamic he has with peter in the comics (spideytorch my beloved) but when my friend reviewed this she asked if it was chris evans and while that wasn't the intention that made it so much better so just clarifying it wasnt on purpose but if you did that i hope it was fun
#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker fic#tasm!peter smut#tasm!spiderman x reader#tasm!peter fanfiction#tasm andrew garfield#tasm!peter x reader#tasm!spiderman x you#andrew garfield smut#andrew garfield x reader#andrew garfield x female reader#andrew garfield x you#tasm!peter parker#tasm!peter one shot#tasm!peter imagine#oneshot#fanfiction#peter parker smut#peter parker imagine#peter parker oneshot#andrew garfield peter parker#peter parker x reader#peter parker x you#tasm!peter parker x reader#peter parker x black!reader#mcu!peter x black!reader#peter parker x black reader#tom holland x reader#the writing’s on the wall#peter parker
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begging for jealous tasm peter. ITS A NEED. JUST best friends to lovers 🙏🏼
thank you so much for this request i LOVED writing this. mostly light angst but fluff at the end | tasm!peter x fem!reader, 1.5k words | cw: a little bit of language and one offhanded mention of sex
Your lipstick is smudged, Peter notices. He waits a minute to tell you, not wanting that to be the first thing to say when you come out of your room. Instead, he says
“You look…” his face is contemplative and strained. His lips are pursed and his eyes are slightly squinted like he’s holding himself back; you can’t tell from what. You look down at your feet, inspecting the hem of your dress and the toes of your heels as if they’ve somehow changed since the last time you looked. “...Nice.” He clears his throat. “Clean up well.”
“Am I normally not cleaned up?” You grin at him in an attempt to restore your normal dynamic, waiting for him to make a jest at you then promptly apologize and give an overdramatic speech about how you’re the best best friend in the world to make it up to you.
He makes a noise from deep in his throat that never makes it all the way out. You think it might’ve been a laugh.
“Who’s the lucky guy?” his voice is outwardly cheery and teasing, but you know him too well. There’s the smallest trace of bitterness; his upward lilt doesn’t quite quirk up the same, and his words feel too precisely chosen as if each one takes a considerable amount of effort to say.
You search his face for a clearer indication of his intentions, but he avoids your eye contact.
“Just… a guy Lillith set me up with. You know how it’s been.” He does. You’ve complained to both him and your friend Lillith about how you haven’t gotten a date in months. You felt like guys avoided you like the plague whenever you went out, and worse, some would cancel as soon as you confirmed a date. It was miserable. “His name is Doug, uh, he’s in Kappa Delta Tau. It’s blind, I, uh, haven’t met him yet.”
He nods, eyes fiercely inspecting the wall next to you. “Your lipstick is a little smudged. Just- just there,” he motions on his own face to where the dark red pigment has bled out over your lipline. You try to get it, unsuccessfully. Peter sucks in a breath.
“Let me just…” you scurry away to the bathroom to fix it, secretly hoping, too, that when you come back the weird awkward tension between you and Peter will be diffused. You’ve lived with each other for almost a year and never had this issue until tonight. It’s throwing you off, that one-minute interaction, and your stomach almost aches with the confusion of it all.
When you return, Peter is sitting on the couch with a book in hand. It’s something complex and sciencey and you can’t tell whether he’s actively reading or if it’s just something to pass the time.
“I still have an hour. You want to turn something on?” you ask, sitting on the couch behind him and folding your legs under you. You figure your dress can handle a little wrinkling in favor of checking up on your best friend.
“Whatever you want.” He briefly glances up from his book before continuing to read.
“Uh, okay.” You flip through the channels idly, settling on a sitcom you and Peter have both seen a million times. You turn the volume down low and take a breath, trying to face the inevitable question head-on instead of worrying about it all night on your date. “Are you okay, Peter? You seem a little… off.” You try to sound as non-judgmental as possible, scooting slightly closer to Peter. He stiffens.
“I’m fine,” he says, clearing his throat again. “Are you guys, um, having dinner, or do you want me to make something? We have stuff for the pasta we never made last week.”
You breathe a sigh of relief at the relative normalcy, but there is still a palpable tension in the air.
“I don’t really know what our plans are. He said he was going to pick me up but not much else.”
“Sounds sort of sketchy, Y/N. You sure Lillith knows this guy well? I heard about that one Kappa that-”
“There’s a million different awful frat guy stories, Pete. I know. I’m well aware. Lillith knows him, I’ll be fine.” You’re trying not to get irritated with Peter but this is your one date in forever that it seems is actually going to happen, and if he freaks you out so much you refuse to go then it’s all for nothing.
“You want me to put my suit on and… keep an eye on you guys? I don’t know, just for a little, make sure nothing goes wrong.” He doesn’t meet your eye.
“No, Peter, it’s fine, I swear. I’ll be safe.”
“Call me if you feel the least bit uncomfortable. I’ll come get you. How about you text me every thirty-”
“Peter! I’m not some… some damsel in distress that you need to rescue. I’m a big girl. I don't know why all of a sudden you’re trying to control me or something. I am perfectly capable of being independent, I- This is my first date in forever, and it’s like you don’t trust my judgment and… It’s really pissing me off.” You don’t mince words, and try to pull back tears before you ruin your makeup. Peter softens a little, scooting towards you and trying to put a comforting hand on your arm. You're the one to stiffen this time.
There’s a beat as Peter decides what to say. Your tear-filled eyes meet his honey-brown ones, loaded with some sort of emotion you can’t decipher.
“I’m not trying to control you, sweetheart. I’m not. I don't- I just want to protect you.” He says, slowly, as if the words pain him to say.
“Protect me from what, Peter? Finally getting laid?”
“No, just- He’s… that Doug guy, he’s not good for you.” He grimaces, shaking his head a little bit.
“What? You don’t even know him. You’ve-you’ve never met him.” You’re nearly exasperated at this point, confused and bewildered that Peter would act like this. He won’t meet your eyes anymore. You take a big breath. “How could you possibly know he’s not good for me?”
“Because he’s not me!” Peter nearly yells, snapping his head to look at you. His response comes immediately after you, practically interrupting you with an unparalleled urgency. It’s as if a ticking time bomb had been simmering this entire time, and it was bound to explode. You’re left dumbstruck.
There’s a long stretch of silence. You open and close your mouth like a koi fish, trying to speak with nothing to say. You’ve always been in love with Peter. You’d pushed it down until it was invisible, suffocated, fit into a tiny box that only got to see the light during late nights spent crying in your room. He’s your best friend. It’s always been a want-but-can-never-have, and even if you could, you figured it was unrequited.
In short, this is new information. You don’t know what to say or how to say it, and seemingly neither does Peter.
“I…” you blubber, staring into Peter’s eyes. “I didn’t know you… I’ve always, um…” you squeeze your eyes shut as if ripping off the bandaid. “...liked you. Well, loved you, really, but I never figured-”
Peter cuts you off with a kiss that satisfies everything you’d ever wanted. It feels like something out of a movie. It rises and crescendos and before you know it you're pulling away for air. A little laugh escapes you, and Peter has the biggest grin on his face you’ve ever seen. Your foreheads are just barely touching, and he presses another small, sweet kiss to your lips.
“I love you, too, if that wasn’t clear,” Peter says. You smile.
“So I’ll cancel my date with Doug?” You ask. You think you might have stars in your eyes, or hearts that get bigger the more you stare at him.
“Fuck Doug. I don't want to hear about Doug.” Peter nuzzles your nose a little, and your stomach lurches from excitement.
“Yeah?”
“I want to hear about you. You’ve always liked me, huh?” He says a bit cockily.
“Always. I dunno, I never figured you’d reciprocate,” you reply.
“Really? I figured it was obvious. You didn’t see the drool coming out of my mouth when you walked out in that little dress?” he smirks, caressing your hip lightly. Your cheeks rouge in response.
“I was too busy looking at the anger in your eyes. Seemed like you wanted to strangle me.”
“I wanted to strangle whoever else got to see you like that. Who you dressed up for.” He kisses your neck, trailing down your exposed collarbone.
“It’s always for you, Peter. Just you. I chose this dress because I thought you’d like it,” your voice is barely a whisper, but Peter hears you. He always does.
“I love it. I love you.”
#tasm!peter parker x reader#tasm!peter x reader#tasm!peter parker#tasm spiderman#the amazing spider man#andrew garfield#andrew garfield x reader#andrew garfield x you
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For the I love you prompts how about tasm!peter and
[ ASLEEP ]: sender, having climbed into bed to cuddle the receiver (who they believe to be asleep), tells them that they love them.
🥹💕I just think this radiates Peter energy 😫
AN | Alright, so this is just soft and with a happy ending❤️
Pairing | tasm!Peter Parker x Fem!Reader
Warnings | Language
Word Count | 3.3k
Masterlist | Main | Peter
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
“Peter?” It was the combination of how softly you said his voice contrasted to your rapid knocking that captured his attention more than anything. He stopped what he was doing, jumping off the couch before almost running to the door. He opened it without hesitation, only to frown deeply when he saw you on the other. Peter was always over the moon to see you…but he hated seeing you upset. You looked at him with teary eyes, lips trembling with effort not to cry, “hi.”
“Hey,” he pulled you into his arms before you could say anything else, and you fell apart as soon as he touched you. You buried your face into his chest, holding on to him tightly as he brought you inside and closed the door. His heart broke as he listened to you sniffle, trying your best to hold in your tears, “it’s okay, sweetheart. It’s alright, I’ve got you.”
“I know,” your soft response was muffled by the fabric of his t-shirt, “‘m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” he rested his head on top of yours, rubbing your back in soothing circles, “you don’t ever have to apologize.”
Peter felt you nod in response before the emotion overwhelmed you and the tears started to roll down your cheeks. It wasn’t long before he felt the cotton of his shirt get soaked. He held you, rocking you gently back and forth until you slowly calmed down. The boy possessed many amazing qualities and skills, and giving the best hugs in the world was one of them.
“C’mere,” he loosened his grip, smiling softly when he saw the pretty pout on your lips, already missing his touch. He took your hand in his, his much larger one dwarfing yours as he led you to the couch. He set you before kneeling in front of and tenderly brushing away your tears with his thumb before pushing a few rogue locks of hair behind your hair, “do you know what this moment calls for?”
“For me to stop being a blubbering idiot?” you asked meekly, the corner of your mouth twitching up ever so slightly.
“First of all - no,” he tutted softly, “and secondly - you’re not an idiot. The moment calls for hot chocolate.”
“Oh,” your eyes widened in excitement and you reminded him of a kid on Christmas morning, “will there be mini marshmallows?”
“You should know by now that I always keep a bag on hand for you,” he gently tapped your chin with his knuckle before standing up, “just back, get comfy, and I will be right back.”
“Do you need a hand, Pete?”
“Absolutely not,” he insisted, “you stay and I’ll be back. Less than ten minutes. Pick out something to watch - and it better be something good!”
He pressed a kiss to your forehead, such a normal thing for either of you to do, and as always it made your stomach burst with butterflies. You watched him go, already feeling a million times better; Peter had that effect on you. No matter what happened or what was going on, he always made everything better.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Peter made good on his promise and was back in even less time than he originally promised, two large mugs in his hands. You gratefully took one of them and moved so he had plenty of room to sit next to you. He set his own mug on the coffee before grabbing the big, fluffy blanket off the back of the couch and draping it over the two of you. He’d never admit it, but he bought that blanket because you had liked it so much at the store and he wanted you to have it at his place whenever you wanted it. He was thoughtful like that, among so many other things.
You pulled the blanket around your frame before cuddling up into his side before putting your feet on the table. Next to Peter, whether at his place or yours, or anywhere else was definitely your favorite place in the world. You’d put on some random show, more for background noise rather than anything else.
“Want to talk about it?” he asked after a few moments of quiet. You knew it was coming but it still made you sigh softly, “you don’t have to if you don’t want to. But I hope you know you can tell me anything.”
“Of course I know,” you gently nudged your arm into his side, “you’re my best friend, Pete. I trust you more than anything or anyone in this world.”
“Yeah?” he teased softly, giving that boyish smile you adored, “glad to know the feeling’s mutual.”
You finished off the rest of your hot chocolate and set the mug down, shifting in your seat so you were facing him. You couldn’t quite bring yourself to meet his eyes, knowing it would make you want to cry all over again. It wasn’t even Peter himself that made you want to cry; if you were being completely honest with yourself, it was that you knew he would never be yours.It was something you’d accepted over the years - not that it made it any easier - which is why you forced yourself to date other people.
Not that any of those worked. You knew why this never did. This time around, your current boyfriend figured out exactly why.
“Matt, umm…he broke up with me today,” you confessed, voice dropping so much that the average person definitely would not have heard you, but you knew that Peter heard you loud and clear. His eyebrows raised in surprise, so high they almost disappeared into his hairline.
“I…what?” he asked softly, clearly not believing what you had said. Although there was no reason you’d lie to him. It just seemed so sudden, “he broke up with you? That makes no sense. You two were so good together.”
Too good together if you asked Peter Parker.
“Well,” you exhaled slowly before shrugging your shoulders, “I guess we weren’t. At least not to him. So…he ended things today.”
“Did something happen?” he asked softly, putting a finger under your chin to turn your face up towards his. He could see that the tears were welling up again and wished he could do something to make it all better. Peter could see that you were struggling with trying to find the words, “did he do something?”
“No,” you shook your head, wrapping your fingers around his wrist and pulling his hand away. Despite the fact that he broke up with you - for the most valid of reasons - you couldn’t find it in your heart to dislike him. He wasn’t a bad person….he just got caught up with someone that happened to be in love with someone else, “he didn’t. I’m not…it sucks, but I’m not mad at him. I guess it’s just the situation.”
Peter could tell that you were holding back and not telling him the entire truth but he always didn’t want to push you. He knew you’d talk about the full details if and when you were ready. He let out a small sigh to commiserate with you before reaching over and putting his hand on your face, resting it on your cheek, “well, if you ever want to talk about it, just let me know. And if it’s any consolation, it’s his loss. Anyone would be a fool to let you go. You’re gold, sweetheart - I can’t believe he didn’t see that.”
You swallowed thickly, desperately wanting to ask what about you, Peter? Do you want me?
But you didn’t. You weren’t about to throw about two decades worth of friendship out the window just because you couldn’t get your feelings in check.
“Thanks Pete,” you bit the inside of your cheek to keep from saying anything else. Did he really have to look at you like that? With the sweetest, most honeyed eyes that made you want to get on your knees and beg him to love you? You nodded instead, keeping your mouth shut, “there’s some girl out there that’s going to be so lucky to get to love you one day, Parker. Whether or not you see it, you’re a huge catch.”
His cheeks flushed a pretty shade of rose as he turned his head away. You laughed softly. The sound went straight to his heart and was easily his favorite sound in the world. He gave you your knee a small squeeze, “well, I guess one day we’ll both find those people that are worthy won’t we?”
“Mhmm,” you hummed softly, “can I ask you for a favor?”
“Anything.”
“Can I stay tonight?” you asked, as if Peter Parker ever said no to you, “you know what, I’m so rude. I just kind barged right now and didn’t even ask if you had plans or were busy. I shouldn’t just-”
“Shh,” he put a gentle finger to your lips to keep you from rambling further, “I am never too busy for you and before you argue, you are never a bother. Besides, I didn’t have plans. Just maybe some patrolling, but it can wait.”
“You don’t have to put that off,” you insisted softly, “there are more important things out there than just me.”
Doubtful, he wanted to say.
“I don’t mind-”
“Peter, I can just go home,” you promised, “or stay here if you don’t mind.”
“When have I ever minded?” he teased as you grinned sheepishly, “never. And I don’t mind now. Stay, please. You practically live here anyway, don’t act like some sort of stranger.”
“Okay,” you felt ready to cry again, “thank you.”
“Nothing to thank me for,” he insisted sweetly, “and you got lucky - I just washed and put on my clean sheets.”
“Ahhh, you’re my hero,” the idea of slipping into his warm bed with the smell of fresh laundry and pillows that always smelled like him was heavenly, “thank you, Peter. Will you…don’t be out too late?”
“You just want me for my warm body,” he playfully huffed but you grinned like the Cheshire cat, “all these years, I should have known.”
“It’s not my fault you’re a radiator,” you stuck your tongue out at him, “one of the many good things that came out of you being bitten by a radioactive spider.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he teased, “there’s some clean stuff for you in the dresser, okay? Are you sure you’ll be fine-”
“I’m sure, Pete,” before you could stop yourself or overthink it, you pressed a kiss to his cheek, “I’ll be okay if you promise me two things.”
“Anything.”
“Come home soon,” you pleaded softly, “and come home safe.”
“I always do,” you raised an eyebrow, silently reminding him of the many times he came home battered and bruised, “you know I’ll always come home to you.”
“I know,” you wondered if he picked up on how quickly your heart was suddenly beating; you were sure he did. You swallowed thickly before turning your face away, “I guess I’ll let you go then.”
“I’ll be back soon,” he promised, “I know it’s pointless to say, but don’t worry about me, sweetheart.”
“It is pointless,” you snorted in amusement, “but I’m just gonna go to bed and maybe watch a movie or something while you’re out.”
“Don’t wait up.”
“Again, pointless to say,” you were both well aware of that fact, “I’ll see you soon, Pete.”
“Soon, sweetheart.”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Once he left, you padded to his bedroom and snuggled up in his bed, letting the warmth and familiar smell surround you. Nothing made you feel better and more at home than being in his bed. You helped yourself to a shower as you often did before rummaging through his drawer and picking a pair of his boxers and a sweater to put on. You felt so much better already, but then, that just proved that Matt had been right all along. You pushed that thought to the back of your mind as you cuddled up in his and turned on the TV. You knew you weren’t going to be able to focus on much so you turned on a show the two of you had seen a million times.
Despite your best efforts to stay awake, you were fast asleep in less than an hour. It was definitely the combination of warmth and comfort and the overwhelming feelings you were currently trying to process.
Peter came back at a relatively early hour, deciding that things were quiet enough for him to go home. And honestly? He really just wanted to go home and see his favorite girl; his girl - at least in his mind. His heart panged when he remembered the fact that you were unfortunately not his and likely never be his. But he could pretend, right? There was no harm in it.
When he got home, landing on his firescape, he was ready to tap on the window to let you know he was back, but then saw that you were sleeping peacefully. A smile crossed his features as he quietly let himself in, landing on the floor with the softest thud. The boy made quick work of pulling off his mask before grabbing some pajamas out of his dresser and quickly changing in the bathroom. He thought about changing in the bedroom but didn’t want to give you a heart attack in case you woke up. Not that you hadn’t seen him shirtless about a million times before, but still. Peter was a gentleman.
Once he came back out, he walked to his side of the bed and watched you for a moment, taking in your small, light snores and even breathing. He pulled and blankets back before climbing into bed as quietly and gently as he could. Despite his best efforts, you made a small sound, “Peter?”
“It’s me,” he whispered, “‘m back. Just rest, sweetheart.”
He immediately felt the warmth of your body and he realized just how badly he wanted to hold you. Like really, really badly. You listened to him try and get comfortable while maintaining a proper distance and smiled to yourself, “can I ask you something?”
“You just did,” oh. You could practically feel the smile on the boy’s face, “but I guess you can ask something else.”
“Will you…will you cuddle me?” the shocked look on Peter’s face was something to behold. You let out a small little exhale before slowly turning around to face him. Even in the dark you could see the pretty flush on his cheeks, “you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
“I want to,” he was quick to dispel any of your worries as he swallowed the lump in throat. He wanted nothing more, “I-I always want to.”
You hummed in content as you scooted closer to him and you felt him wrap an arm around you. Before you could say or do anything, he pulled you closer, causing you to bump noses and laugh softly, “you’re so warm.”
“You’re so soft,” he sounded like he was in awe as you tangled your legs with his, “so soft and delicate.”
“Peter,” you leaned into him and buried your face near his chest before closing your eyes again. Alright, this was definitely your favorite spot in the entire galaxy. You laughed despite your best efforts to stay away, “you smell ‘s good.”
“Oh yeah?” you felt him press a kiss to the top of your head, “so do you.”
You smiled to yourself as you let yourself get lolled back to sleep. A comfortable silence fell over the two of you as Peter tried to keep calm as you slept in his arms. He wanted to get some rest too, but found that it was almost impossible with how loud his thoughts were. He tried to ground himself with the feeling of you in his arms, along with your steady breathing. It all served to remind him just how deeply in love with you he was.
He laid there for a while, trying to figure out and process his own feelings. Eventually he ended up watching you, trailing his fingers over your cheek and along your jaw before sighing softly. How were you so pretty and soft and lovely and everything? It almost wasn’t fair.
“I hope you know how much I love you,” he whispered into the dark, accompanied by a wistful little sigh, “maybe one I’ll actually be able to tell you.”
What he didn’t know was that you were awake as well, unable to fall asleep while you were in his touch. You tried to control your inhale, still contemplating if you should say anything or just let him think you were sleeping. But you were pretty sure that he might have just said the words you’d been wanting to hear for the years.
“Peter?” you whispered after a few moments, so softly that he almost didn’t hear it. But you could hear the small sound of surprise that he made, “I wasn’t fully honest when I told you that Matt broke up with me.”
“What do you mean?”
“He broke up with me because he said he wasn’t the one for me,” you could feel him watching you intently with baited breath, “he told me that I could never love him like he deserved to be loved because…because I was already in love with someone else.”
“O-oh.”
“Because I’m in love with you,” you confessed, finally getting it all out in the open, “because it’s so obvious.”
Peter was silent for a few moments, his mind racing as he tried to figure out if you were being serious or just repeating what Matt had said. You pulled back so you could face him, reaching over and brushing some of his wild hair out of his face, “and he was right.”
“He was?” he asked softly, setting his hand on top of yours where it rested on his face, “sweetheart?”
“He was,” you promised, “it’s always been you, Peter. I just never thought that you’d feel the same. If I did-”
“I would have said something years ago,” he finished for you as you nodded, “me too. I…I feel so dumb. All this time…”
“It’s okay,” you insisted sweetly, “we’ve always had each other - and we always will. Now we can just…do all the other stuff too.”
“All the other stuff,” he teased and you laughed softly, a mixture of adoration and nerves, “hmm, you might have to tell me more. Just to make sure that we’re on the same page.”
“First of all,” you leaned in so your lips were almost brushing against each other, “like kissing, you know?”
“Does that mean I can kiss you?”
“I insist on it, Parker,” the two of you were grinning at each other like fools, “please.”
“What if I don’t want to stop?” you saw his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly. You worried your bottom lip between your teeth, a sight he was sure would kill him. He pulled you towards him, his large hand splaying on your waist as you stared at each other intensely.
“Don’t,” you insisted softly, “don’t ever stop.”
#peter parker#peter parker x reader#peter parker x fem!reader#peter parker x you#tasm!peter#tasm!peter x you#tasm!peter x reader#tasm!peter parker#tasm!peter parker x you#tasm!peter parker x reader#andrew!peter parker#andrew!peter parker x you#andrew!peter parker x reader#andrew garfield#andrew garfield x you#andrew garfield x reader
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Face Masks-Peter Parker
A/n: I'm currently wearing a facemask and had this idea!
Summary: A night in leads to face masks and fun
Warning: Swears, fluff, gender-neutral reader
Peter enters his apartment through his window, his only injury being a pulled muscle. He's just glad he didn't get punched in the face. He lands on the floor with a soft thud, removing his mask. Within seconds you're peaking into the room, a smile on your face. Just seeing you brightens his night by a lot, relieving him of all his stress.
"How was patrol?" You ask, as usual, entering his room. You approach him, examining his face for any serious cuts or bruises. When you don't see any you relax.
"Actually, really easy." He laughs, running a hand through his flattened hair. "I only had to face five robberies!" He jokes, walking deeper into his room. He notices neatly folded sweatpants and a T-shirt on the edge of his bed. He's sure you've done more besides this, he can tell his room has been vacuumed and a few things reorganized. Of course, he'll just put his items back in place but he'll never complain. "Thank you," He mumbles, grabbing his clothes.
"Of course, Pete." you nod your head with a grin, sitting down on his bed. You wait for him to change before bringing up an idea you saw online.
Once he finishes changing, he sits behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. He rests his head on yours, wanting a calm moment. However, he knows better and can tell you're not even close to tired.
"Hey, Pete?" You hum, shifting in his hold. He knows you're about to suggest an activity, maybe one that requires effort. He's exhausted, but he'll do anything for you, especially when you've been waiting for him all night.
"Yes, honey?" He responds, kissing the back of your head. He tries to come up with the activity you're going to suggest before you speak, shuffling through movie night or video games.
"Can we do face masks?" You ask in a soft tone. How could he not think of that first? It's such a domestic task of course you'd choose it. Peter would never admit it, but face masks sound really nice right now.
"Only if they're the ones with animal faces on them." He chuckles as you wiggle out of his grasp and walk from his bed. You enter his bathroom that's connected to his room, open his sink cabinet, and pull out two face masks. You spread them apart like cards between your fingers, a playful smile spreading across your face.
He leans back on his elbows as you return to him, showing him the mask packets closer. You chose a tiger and an owl, both piquing his interest. Of course you knew he'd enjoy animal face masks, it made his heart warm.
"Which one do you want?" You ask, glancing between the two masks. He reaches for the tiger, obviously, but you pull your hand away. "Ok, which one do you want besides the tiger?" She corrects, leaving him with the owl. He can't help but chuckle, grabbing the owl.
"What options!" He laughs. You quickly climb back onto his bed, sitting on your knees. "The tiger really suits you." He teases.
"Oh, yeah," You agree with a playful tone, "I'm super scary and vicious." You nod with a sarcastic voice. Peter opens his mask first, the smell of coconuts and chemicals hitting him quickly. Yours smells of old strawberries but you don't seem to mind.
"Are you sure these will help our skin?" He puts his mask packet to your nose causing you to cough at the sudden smell. "Y/n, where did you get these?" He raises an eyebrow.
"Five Below, why?" You hum, taking your mask out of the packaging. It's slimy in your hands, but you don't mind. However, Peter seems to be struggling with the feeling, almost gagging. "Don't be dramatic!" You laugh, slapping his arm jokingly.
"Y/n, I think this mask is made of The Lizard's saliva." He tries to unfold the mask, trying his best not to rip it. "I mean seriously, I think my webs are less sticky than this." He glances at you with a fake look of disgust.
"No, trust me your webs are way worse. I had web fluid on my hand for at least two hours once." You remind him, unfolding your mask perfectly. You've used masks before, but Peter probably hasn't. "Need help there, bud?" You ask, already applying your mask.
"I think I can handle opening a face mask." He scoffs, still struggling. Without a word, you reach over and unfold his mask while yours slowly slips down your face. Peter notices it slipping, and he instinctively fixes it, smoothing it over your face as best as he can. While he does that you apply his mask to his face, doing the same as him. "Look at us being cute!" He breaks the silence.
"Oh my god," You laugh, the face mask stretching on your face. You can feel a part of it unstick from your face, Peter quickly pressing it back. His hands are warm and dry, reminding you that you need to buy more hand lotion for him.
Somehow, Peter's face mask seems to fit him perfectly even when his face moves.
"We are totally slaying right now." He speaks up and you cannot fathom what caused him to say that. Your eyes look directly into his, a deadly serious expression on your face.
"Get the fuck off TikTok." You demand and he bursts out laughing. You know for a fact he scrolls through it when there's a break period on patrol and you hate how he's somehow weaponized the slang. "No, actually get off before I delete your account!" You tease.
"I thought girls love that word!" He defends, throwing his hands up. "I swear it's all I see now!" He chuckles.
"Yeah, but it's insane to think that New York's famous superhero says it casually!" You point out, smoothing your mask once again. You finally take in Peter's face with the owl mask on, realizing how stupid he looks. You have to look just as dumb though.
"Oh, my bad I didn't know I'd have to speak formally even when I'm off duty!" He raises his voice but you know he's not being serious. You laugh, having to once again smooth out your mask. "Next time I'll only comment about serious topics like the economy or politics!" He suggests, shaking his head. His flat hair moves with him, it looks so soft even after a whole night of being squished under his costume.
"You comment on TikToks?" You realize what he's said, leaning closer to him. "Please tell me your name isn't something like the official Spider-Man!" You place your hands on his shoulder, starting on your knees now. You look down at him with a serious glare.
"What? No, of course not!" He rolls his eyes, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his lap. You decide to get comfortable, adjusting yourself so your legs are parallel and you're facing him only inches apart. "It's Spider-Mans ass." He adds. You begin cackling, knowing that's a lie. "I also have like sixty Spider-Man edits and thirst traps saved on there."
"Peter, remove yourself from that app instantly!" You shout a smile still on your face. "I cannot believe you're inflating your own ego!" You actually can believe it. You should have come up with that idea sooner because, of course, Peter would find such things and save them
"I'm offended you haven't made a fan account." He pretends to be upset, "I mean you're my girlfriend you should be the most popular account!" He crosses his arms with a dramatic frown.
"I'm sorry, weren't you the one all for privacy and safety?" You defend, and he sighs. He doesn't have a funny argument to deflect your statement, but he doesn't actually want one. You're right, he'd rather have that privacy around you.
You notice the time, realizing it's past mask-removing time. You pat his thigh, exiting his lap and padding to the bathroom. Peter catches on instantly and follows you. You remove your mask, tossing it into the bathroom trash bin, Peter does the same.
You turn on the sink waiting for the water to warm but Peter wastes no time. He washes the slimy substance from his face with cold water. Once he finishes he grabs the hand towel, drying his face.
"It should be warm enough for you now." He kisses your head and stands behind you. He leans against the wall, waiting for you to wash your face.
Once you finish you stretch and dry your face, feeling cleansed. However, you're now slightly hungry. Peter automatically knows because you're always hungry around this time.
"I'm going to make us some popcorn." He pushes off the bathroom wall. Before he leaves he picks you up by your stomach, carrying you out of the bathroom. "You are coming with."
#peter parker x reader#spiderman x reader#spiderman x y/n#peter parker x y/n#peter parker x you#tasm!spiderman x reader#peter parker x fem#tasm!peter parker fluff#tasm!peter parker x reader#tasm!peter x reader#andrew garfield x female reader#andrew garfield x reader#andrew garfield x you
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You’re So Gorgeous, It Hurts
(Andrew Garfield x Not British!GN Reader)
category: fluff blurb
summary: non British accented reader gets drunk and makes fun of andrews British accent
warnings: drinking
word count: 0.4k
A/N: Reader is so me cuz I love repeating words people say to me if they sound fun to say but I’m also like pretty sure I have autism! Nice.
Also it’s kinda a cringey fanfic so strap in.
“Andrewww-” you slur, stumbling into your boyfriend.
“Woah, woah, easy there” he chuckles, holding you up straight, his British accent like music to your ears.
“Easy there” you repeat, making sure to imitate his accent.
“Are you mocking me?” his eyebrow raises at you, his hands still securely placed on your hips.
“Why’d cha say that, love?” you drunkenly whisper, still copying his British accent.
He laughs softly, his thumb rubbing gently against your waist.
“How many drinks have you had?” he questions, his hands going up to your face to move some hair out of your face.
You smile goofily, raising 6 of your fingers up. Your body wobbles again, and his hand holds you to him.
“Okay, okay, let’s go home alright?” he moves his lips to your ear, whispering.
“Nooo, I wanna dance” you whine, trying to pry yourself away from his grasp, but to no avail.
“We can dance when we get back, okay?” his gaze is soft and concerned, his thumb rubbing circles onto your hand.
“Fine, party pooper” you glare at him, pouting your lips.
Timeskip to when y’all get home…
As the taxi cab lets you off at you and Andrew’s shared home, you find yourself stumbling out of it. Andrew’s hands once again steady you, to your frustration.
“I’m not drunk” you huff, swatting his hands away.
“You're gonna fall and hurt yourself” he says, his eyebrows furrowing.
“Nuh uh” you shake your head, just resulting in you becoming more dizzy.
You both finally make it into your house, closing and locking the door behind you both. You lean down as you slip out of your nice shoes, reveling in the feeling. You feel a hand on your upper back, rubbing up and down gently.
“Hi” you smile, extending your body back up, making eye contact with your boyfriend.
“Hi hun” he leans in, giving you a peck on your cheek.
“Can we dance now?” you take his hands in yours, swaying them in between you both.
He smiles, picking you up and bringing you to the living room. He grabs his phone and turns on an old jazz song, one of your favourites to dance to.
His hands lay peacefully on your hips once again, your eyes never once leaving his face as your arms wrap around your neck. Your bodies slowly sway side to side, no words being exchanged between you too.
“You’re so gorgeous” you furrow your eyebrows, your hands going up to his face, squeezing his cheeks.
He smiles softly, a faint pink on his cheeks. He spins you around, dipping you down. He pulls you back up, giving you a quick kiss.
“Thank you”
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easy to love. (p.p. x reader)
pairing: TASM!Peter Parker x reader
summary: Peter is relentlessly there to help pick you up when you are too tired to do the same.
warnings: heavy negative self-talk, allusions to depression, please don't read this if you are not comfortable with either of these. additionally, my inbox and messages are always open if you ever want to vent about anything
word count: about 850 words
a/n: if you are suffering or even slightly down today, take this as your reminder that you are loved, cared for, and you matter. sending so many hugs to all of your way <3
(gif not mine, credits to the owner/creator)
you had been in bed since morning and it was 2 pm now.
suffice it to say, it was a bad day.
you were drowning in your thoughts, unable to distinguish the light on the surface from the darkness of the depths. you were not sure if there was any surface, to be honest.
you had forgotten to call in from your work in the haze that surrounded you but left a message about an hour earlier, a simple text to your boss that read apologies for not coming in today, feeling a bit sick.
bless her heart, you were only met with a text saying are you okay? that was left on read.
you should answer that soon.
there were several other texts you were yet to reply to, the most glaring ones being from Peter.
good morning sweetheart was the first one.
you okay? after a few hours of no reply.
y/n talk to me, please? was the last one.
you wanted to talk to him so bad, but it was much easier staying there and pretending the world didn’t exist for as long as you could, as long as it was viable.
you didn’t realise it was way later than 2 pm when you suddenly turned in your bed to see the darkened skies. you supposed time flies when all you do is lie beneath your covers thinking about all the reasons you couldn’t get up. (more often than not coming up with none.)
you jumped when a knock sounded on your window but didn’t remove the blanket from your face to see who it was. you knew who it was, you were just hoping he left you alone.
alas, that hope went out the window (no pun intended) when he stepped into your room. you wished you had turned the lock on them but in your state last night it didn’t matter whether they were on or not. no amount of locks could ensure that you felt safe.
“you should not leave your windows unlocked like that, sweetheart,” he said, noticing the piles of clothes in two places. apart from that, though, your room was organised like it usually was. not a lot of people could’ve said something was wrong by looking at your room.
“I know you’re awake, it’s fine if you don’t wanna talk to me,” he sighed. he was disappointed in you. you should get up and talk to him. greet him, at least. he came all this way just for you. and here you are, lying there like you don’t want it, want him. ungrateful brat. “did you have something to eat?"
you wondered why he bothered trying.
“y/n,” he sat down next to you. his ungloved hand came into your view as he tucked away the blanket a bit. you realised he wasn’t wearing his suit. did he not come here after his patrol?
you’re disrupting spider-man too. selfish selfish selfish.
“babe,” he started, stroking your cheek. “just give me a simple nod if you want me here. I’ll be gone if you don’t.”
tears were pooling in your eyes. you wanted him gone but more than that, you knew you needed him here. it was unfair to still need him for anything.
gathering all your strength, you nodded once.
his fingers gently wiped away the tears that managed to spill over.
"I love you," he said, before leaning down and kissing your forehead. your eyes shut tightly, undeserving of his love, his beauty, his warmth. "I'm gonna clean this room a little, okay? I must say, you've managed it quite well already."
you knew he was lying but it made the pressure holding you down lift a little. maybe you were not a complete failure.
a few minutes of his cleaning had put some life back into your body, making it easier to breathe in and out. you moved into a sitting position by your bed, legs hanging off its side.
"hey, bug," Peter grinned, triumph swimming in his eyes. "wanna eat something?"
you nodded after some time, contemplating.
"something light? I was thinking of some soup."
you nodded again.
"be right back!" he skipped out of the room, already familiar with your apartment enough to know where all the ingredients were kept.
you listened to the clanging of the utensils for some time, head bent in the doorway’s direction. slowly, you stretched your legs and decided to join him. walking seemed to take tremendous effort but when you saw Peter, his back to you, stirring the pot on your stove, making food for you. the realisation felt heavy but it seemed to make your steps lighter all the same. maybe you could be loved.
“hello there,” he called out to you. his senses were already attuned to you, and his heart fluttered wildly when he realised you were joining him in the kitchen. he stretched his hand out to you, sighing when your body slotted itself to his side as you both stared at the boiling soup.
as your head rested on his shoulder, eyes fixated forward, you realised it’s very easy to love Peter Parker. sometimes, that was all you needed. a reminder you could love.
phew, thanks for reading if you did!! comments and reblogs are much appreciated :) please do remember to check in with your closed ones and to never be afraid to ask for help.
#tasm!peter parker#tasm!peter parker x reader#peter parker x reader#peter parker x y/n#peter parker x you#peter parker#tasm!peter parker x y/n#tasm!peter imagine#tasm!peter parker imagine#tasm!spiderman x you#tasm!peter fanfiction#tasm!peter parker x you#andrew garfield x reader#andrew garfield x you#tasm!peter parker fanfiction#peter parker fanfiction
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