#tasm!peter parker fluff | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cosmal · 1 year

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✪ — oh em gee what about ❛ this is a good look for you. ❜ with peter parker

stained

summary — peter spills a drink on your top at a party.

content — tasm!peterparker x fem!afab!reader, mentions of nudity

note — sorry this is super short! more of a baby blurb!

You sit on the edge of the toilet, naked from the waist up, while Peter is hunched over the bathroom sink, scrubbing at your shirt.

"Peter, just leave it, I'll wash it at home," you say softly. He looks really determined.

He'd spilt his drink all over your top downstairs at the party you're at. He'd felt horrible and insisted that he could get the stain out in the sink. The green stain out of your white top.

Turns out dawn soap and lukewarm water don't do the job. "I'm sorry, baby, really," he frets, holding the top up where it drips into the sink. You're not sure if he's made it better or worse. You appreciate him nonetheless.

"Pete, thank you, really," you start, shifting uncomfortably over the plastic lid. You cross your arms over your chest, where your bra digs into your skin, and look at the wet mess Peter holds in his hands. "It's okay. But now I have no top."

Peter drops the shirt looking really guilty. He feels horrible because he's ruined one of your favourite tops and he's also the reason you're half-naked in some random condo.

"Shit," he curses to himself.

He doesn't think twice. Peeling his jacket off, he stands at your knees and holds it out. "Here," he says bashfully. It's a thin jacket, made of nothing really. It's all you've got and you're not about to start complaining.

You stand to slip it on and hate it when you realise it has no zipper. Or any buttons. You pull it taut over your front and start to feel anxious. "Can you see anything?"

He pulls the collar forwards over your collarbones and smooths it out over your shoulders. "You're safe," he smiles. You watch his throat bob under the skin of his lightly stubbled neck. "It, uh, it looks really good."

"Pete," you groan while tipping your head back. "I'm naked, in the middle of the city, wearing my clumsy boyfriend's jacket, and you're getting turned on?"

"What?" he gawps, clearing his throat, "I am not! You just suit it, that's all."

You pull it tight around your middle and roll your eyes. "You're unbelievable."

He plays with the hem between his fingers, keeping his eyes planted to the floor momentarily. "It's a good look on you."

You straighten your back and ignore the way he's making you feel. Time and place you remember. "Right, we're going outside unnoticed and you're gonna hail a cab with those long arms of yours."

"You don't wanna swing home?" he asks.

"You don't have your shit," you grumble. It'd be convenient, but also reckless.

"My shit? You mean my suit?" he laughs, wrapping a hand around the hinge of your elbow. "I'm gonna pretend you didn't say that because I deserve it."

Peter makes sure you're decent before he opens the door to the bathroom. You stand behind him, hanging off his arm, hoping his broad shoulders will do you a favour and hide you well.

There's a drunk guy on the other side for the toilet presumably. Peter moves to the side to shield you on instinct when you squeak out a surprised noise. You push your chest against him to cover the slip of skin that struggles to be covered by the jacket, and let Peter guide you down the hall.

You lean in to whisper in his ear, "You owe me, Parker."

You get out onto the street when he says, "I'll show you how sorry I am when we get home."

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bruisedboys · 1 year

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peter parker who always lets you hang off his arm. you’re always holding it to your chest when walking or just standing. letting him do the guiding because you just want to stick to his side. you wrap both your arms around his and just fiddle with his fingers and maybe tug on them when you need his attention. you rest your chin on his shoulder when he’s stopped to talk to someone or when you’ve both sat down. you just have to be near him tbh <3333 and he doesn’t care one bit, he actually hates it when you’re not as close.

aerial why would you do this to me!!! I want to be his clingy gf so bad. also this is really short sorry </3

Peter sometimes finds it hard to breathe when you cling to him like this. You’re so close and your warmth is seeping into him and your perfume smells like honey and flowers and hell, he’s so in love with you he could die.

One of your hands is slotted in his, your fingers having searched for his and found them the moment you’d stepped outside. Your other hand is curled around his elbow, clutching his arm to your chest. Peter thinks it’s cute, how close you want to be to him. How you don’t seem to want to let him go.

“Y/N, honey,” he says with a poorly contained grin. “You okay?”

You look up at him, pretty as ever. Peter’s chest burns at the sight of you.

“Fine,” you say, and you look it. Your smile is bruising.

The breeze has blown a strand of hair across your face. Peter lifts his free arm and pushes the stray lock behind your ear, his hand lingering on your jaw.

“Did you decide what you feel like eating?” He asks slowly. It’s hard to get the words out when his fondness and adoration for you is making his chest tight.

You don’t notice, and besides, you look like you’re feeling an equal amount of fondness for him. “I was thinking Thai,” you say thoughtfully. “But only if you want that too?”

Peter grins. He doesn’t care what he eats, as long as it’s with you. He presses his thumb to the corner of your mouth, then leans down to press a chaste kiss to your wind-bitten lips. “Thai it is.”

Peter and you walk the short distance to the Thai restaurant. You cling to Peter the entire way. He can’t stop smiling. He wants you this close forever, even if it means you’re so close he has to be extra careful not to step on your feet.

The Thai place is busy tonight. Neither of you mind. You stand in line, so close your shoes press up against each other. You fiddle with Peter’s fingers, trace the lines on his palm, the veins on the inside of his wrist. Peter is putty in your hands. His chest feels like it’s on fire, worse when you press into his side and let your head fall against his shoulder, your weight familiar and soft and warm all at once.

By the time the food comes out, hot and fresh and smelling delicious, Peter’s chest is already so full with fondness for you he’s not sure he can fit anything else in there. He tries his best.

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luveline · 10 months

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Can I request just Peter and shy!reader cuddling and stuff after a long day (after r having a long day or after peters spidey stuff whichever) ❤️

thank you for your request! tasm!peter parker x fem!reader, 1k

It feels like Peter's been gone for a long, long time when he finally comes home. Hair whipped every which way from swinging, his cheeks kissed by cold, nose bitten and pink, he drops his keys by the door and sweeps you up into his impossibly strong arms.

You'd usually laugh at the sudden weightlessness, but his touch summons a lump in your throat, the thrumming feeling of missing him alive and in your hands. You work them around his shoulders.

"You had a bad day?" he asks. You don't know how he knows, but he does.

"I just needed to see you," you say, embarrassed by the strength of your feelings.

Peter walks you backwards and you do laugh, then, the rigidness of your emotion warmed into softness by his arms around you and his easy smile. Peter dunks you down onto your L-shaped couch so you're flat on your back with your legs propped up and isn't shy about laying on top of you, the firm muscle of his thigh slotting between your softer ones, his hands moving to frame your face.

He holds your cheeks for a second, decides he actually can't deal with the weight of his bag still on his shoulders or the jacket that haphazardly hides his suit and shrugs both off, and then holds your face again.

"You're warm," he says.

"You're cold," you say, turning your cheek into his hand, your head smushed up against the couch cushions.

You close your eyes as he gets comfortable, content to spend long, slow minutes in the sanctuary of his arms, knowing he'll let you stay here however long you need to. You think you could commit to the couch for the remainder of your life and Peter would spend the rest of his days bringing you trinkets and offering to give you sponge baths. It's a preposterous thought based on an absolute truth; Peter would do anything for you. You'd do anything for him.

You curl your arms around the broad, muscled stretch of his back, fingertips tripping over the wrinkles in his shirt, nose sniffing indulgently at his hair.

"I needed to see you, too," he says into your neck. He speaks quietly, but not for the sake of any concerns. There's no need for privacy, and no shame in the admission. "Day's perfect now."

It's such a him thing to say.

After another handful of quiet minutes, Peter works it around so he's the one being weighed down, squeezing between you and the couch armrest and easing you effortlessly onto his chest. You throw a leg over his thigh, curl an arm around his waist. He's not as cold anymore, but you rub his arm in a steadying back and forth until you've made your way to his fingers. They're still pretty cold —you pull his hand to your mouth and blow warm air at his fingertips until they're pink rather than blue.

Peter noses your hairline affectionately. "You're quiet today. More than usual," he says. "Should I be concerned?"

"No," you murmur, rubbing his knuckles against your forehead for no good reason. It feels nice. After less than half a second, he does it of his own accord.

Peter pushes your head back gently and starts to kiss you. Your forehead from end to end, the bridge of your nose, the tip. You shiver happily at the feeling and tilt your chin up for a proper kiss, though that happiness quickly melds to embarrassment when he laughs against your lips. I know what you want, his laugh says.

And even though he's right, even though it's obvious, it's raw to be caught wanting. He knows how much you want him in any and all capacity, and that's scary.

You'd pull away if you thought Peter didn't know how you felt; you trust him completely. He can kiss you sick, for all you care.

Peter doesn't kiss you for long, resting his forehead against your jaw, hand at the back of your neck to hold you where he wants you.

"Put your head back," he murmurs, faux-thoughtful, "I wanna give you a better kiss."

"You want to give me a bruise," you murmur back.

He dips in to kiss your neck softly. "Not true," he says, his bottom lip tickling you as he exhales.

You lean back and raise your shoulder to push him away. You trust him, you love him, but if he gives you a hickey tonight you won't be able to look at him without a hot flush. You're too tired for anything amorous.

Peter doesn't hold it against you. If anything, he does the opposite, rubbing your aching shoulders with a big, flat palm, like he's saying sorry. It's unnecessary.

"I love you," you say.

"I know," he says, giving you a short pat between shoulder blades. "Not as much as I love you, though, don't get it twisted."

"I'm not getting anything twisted."

"No?" Peter pulls you up his chest and turns his head so you can look at each other comfortably, no craned necks up or down. "Feels like you are. You think you love me more, which is scientifically improbable."

"I didn't say that."

"It felt like you said that."

"I didn't say that." You glare at one another. The glares don't last long.

You dive in for another hug, Peter tightening his grip around your waist, forearms up your back and locking you in. "This is nice," you say.

"For you. My arm is dead."

You giggle and shift further on top of him to alleviate the pressure on his arm. He groans like you're his very worst ailment, but when he kisses your head it's so tender you'd bet money that it left a mark, a physical actualisation of his affection.

"Better?" he asks.

You know what he's asking without further explanation. Do you feel better now?

You nod against his neck, thinking you might just fall asleep in his arms.

#peter parker #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter parker fluff #tasm!peter parker fanfiction #tasm!peter parker x you #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter fanfiction #tasm!peter x you #tasm fic #tasm!peter x reader #the amazing spider man 2 #the amazing spider man #tasm peter parker #tasm #tasm peter parker x reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #tasm!peter parker imagine

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 3 months

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What about Peter having a crush on reader but he can never properly talk to her, until reader gets saved by spider man like twice and in the third time she kisses him and Peter's all happy and excited at first until he realises she only like spiderman not Peter Parker and he's all sad and he visits her place as spidey and they talk and he tries kiss her and she's like no it was a mistake and I didn't mean it and I already like this other guy and he's like who??? And she's like oh this boy with me at school and Peter being Peter apologises and decides to help her ask the boy out while being a the sweet sad puppy he is and the next day he's all mopey at school and avoids reader until she corners and asks him out and he's like omg she was talking about me

.....can I please have chocolate now? 🥺🥺🥺

- yours truly

a/n: okay, i hope you don’t mind, i tweaked it a little so that he doesn’t find out the truth at school but at her apartment when he visits him

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

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“Wait,” you pressed a palm to the hero’s chest and pushed him back slightly. He’d pulled up his mask just enough for his soft lips to be unobscured before he’d locked them with your own, “this–, uhm…” you averted your gaze and shook your head lightly as to rid yourself of the hazy sensation the taste of his kisses bloomed, “I’m sorry. I can’t do this.”

“What?” he leaned back a bit next to you on your bed.

“It’s not you, I promise, you’re so–… I mean, you’re you. Most of New York would probably kill to get to do, well, this with you. I just–, as good as that felt, it can’t happen again,” sucking in a shaky breath, you revealed, “I kinda like someone else, like really like them. So, this just–, I’m sorry… I can’t…”

As a slow, sombre exhale flowed out past his lips, “oh…” he leaned further away from you, “who–, uhm… who is it?”

“A guy at my school. We have biology together, though I’ve never actually had the courage to talk to him. Every time I try, I just chicken out at the very last second and walk away…”

“What’s his name? Maybe, I don’t know… maybe your friendly neighbourhood Spiderman could play matchmaker or something?”

Blinking back at him, you breathed, “you’d really do that? You’ve already done so much for me.”

“It’s fine, I wanna help,” he offered you a weak smile, “I just want you to be happy. So, what’s the guy’s name?”

“Peter,” you said wistfully, “Peter Parker.”

Mouth parting slightly in surprise, he looked as if you’d just slapped him clean across his face.

“He’s got brown hair,” you went on, “and is like probably the smartest person I’ve ever met.”

“Peter Parker?” he repeated, “y-you have a crush on m–, on him?”

“Pretty much since the day I first met him,” you sighed longingly, “I know, you must think I’m pathetic. You throw yourself into danger every day and here I am, too scared to talk to the guy I’m in love with.”

#lea’s writing #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker imagine #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x fem!reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker request #peter parker blurb #peter parker fluff #peter parker drabble #spiderman x reader #tasm!peter parker x reader #mcu!peter parker x reader #mcu!peter parker x you #tasm!peter parker imagine #tasm!peter parker x you #tasm!peter parker fanfiction #tasm!peter parker fluff

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evsstolenhearts · 4 months

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Summary: Peter seems to be jealous of a plushie

TASM!Peter parker x gn!reader | roughly 500 words

Warnings: none? Lemme know if there is any, as well as typos! :]

A/N: totally not my first full fic on my account that has nothing to do with spiderman

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆

Hours prior Peter left to go patrol, leaving you to do what you want in his apartment. So, now you lay in Peter's bed, scrolling on your phone as you doze in and out of sleep. While warm under the covers in Peters hoodie, your plushie is held tightly in your arms.

At some point in the night, you completely fall asleep. Which is destroyed by someone trying to take your plushie.

"Shhh, go back to sleep baby..." the voice indicating this person is your boyfriend, Peter.

"Peter!" You groan and roll over, taking the stuffed animal with you, "stop trying to take him."

While you close your eyes and hold the plushie tight, Peter crawls the rest of the way onto the bed, having at some point changed out of his spider-man suit and into sweats and a t-shirt while you slept.

"I'm not trying to take him, I'm just..." he pauses to find an excuse, "...looking at him."

While talking, Peter is behind you, half up on one elbow as he trys to wrangle the plushie from you, clearly not using all his strength in chance of ripping it.

"Looks at him from a distance." You grumble and roll onto your stomach, now on top of the stuffed animal.

Peter dramatically plops flat down on the bed, staring holes into the soft fabric that's barely visible. Moments pass and it stays silent, until you finally speak up.

"Why do you want him?" You turn your head to glare half heartedly at your boyfriend as he continues to stare down the plushie.

"Hes stealing my job." Peter says, dead serious.

"Your job?" Your glare breaks as you smile, now more amused than anything.

"My job." He reiterates.

"Which is?" Rolling over to face Peter, the adorable face in the plushie staring back at him.

"Cuddling you." Peter says with full confidence. He works quickly to grab the plushie out of your hands, throwing it across the room.

"Hey!" You yell through laughter as he replaces the plushie, placing his arms around your waist, head squished on your chest, and legs being entangled with yours. The blankets having also moved off your body with all the commotion.

"Could have done this thing called asking you know." You wrap one arm around him, as one hand gently scratches his scalp. "Didn't have to throw my child across the room."

"Theres no fun in that." Peter mumbles into your skin with a faint smile, eyes already closed, and much more visibly relaxed.

Without continuing to try and have a conversation with the obviously sleepy thief, you close your eyes and attempt to fall asleep along with him.

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styleswithaseaview · 5 months

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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.

#tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker fluff #tasm!peter parker fic #tasm!peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #andrew garfield #andrew garfield x reader #andrew garfield x you

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moonstruckme · 2 months

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hi!

can i request tasm!peter meeting reader after having to do long distance?

if not thats okay! love your writing:)

have a great day<3

Thanks lovely, hope you have a great day as well!

Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 683 words

You don’t just give out copies of the key to your apartment, so when the front door opens you think you’re about to be shot.

Breath caught in your throat, you freeze in the hallway and say the first deterrent that comes to mind. “I’ve got a gun!”

The laughter that responds is as familiar as it is cheeky. “No, you don’t,” Peter says.

“Jesus.” Your heart starts again, and in that split second your feet are already moving.

Peter opens his arms as you throw yourself at him, taking your weight happily. “Nope, just me,” he quips, his harsh grip at odds with the levity of his voice.

“Still a bad joke.” Your own voice is thick with fondness. You press your face into his neck, getting your boyfriend as close as you can. “What are you doing here?”

“I live here.” He gives your upper back an excited squeeze. “You miss me?”

“Not even,” you mumble into his shoulder. You go ahead and wrap your legs around his waist, and Peter chuckles, starting to walk the both of you towards your couch. “You scared the shit out of me, you know.”

“Yeah, maybe not my best plan.” He collapses downward, and you fold yourself around him more completely, getting comfortable in his lap. You think you’ll just never leave, honestly. “I thought the surprise would be more fun than scary.”

“I could’ve met you at the airport.”

“May would’ve killed me.” He palms the back of your neck, lips finding your hairline. “She wanted to pick me up herself, but she’s letting you have me for dinner. I have to be back by ten.”

You let out a petulant whine. “Why does she get to decide?”

You adore Peter’s aunt and he knows it, but when you’re having to battle her for custody of your boyfriend all that love goes right out the window.

“I know,” Peter commiserates. “You’d think after a semester of taking care of myself in another country, I’d be allowed to stay out until at least eleven.”

You hum, vacating your spot in the juncture of his neck in favor of seeing his face. You pet down the cowlick at the crown of his head, and Peter catches your hand, kissing your palm. A warm thrumming starts up in your chest. It’s similar to the sensation you’d gotten during your evening calls while Peter was abroad (well, your evening, his late night), but more. Better. You’ve missed feeling it like this.

“How was Hertfordshire?” you ask.

Peter gives you a look like you’re being silly. “I told you already.”

“It’s different in person.”

He smiles, thinking. “Small. Grassy. Cute, but not much to swing off of.” There’d been no vigilante work while Peter did his research abroad. He talked like it was a welcome break, but you could tell he missed it. Something changes in his look, eyes going soft and flirty. “No pretty girls.”

You bite back a smile. “Let’s not do the women of Hertfordshire a disservice,” you chide.

“Fine.” Peter rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “None of my pretty girl.”

He lifts his chin and you oblige him, touching your lips to his. It’s a kiss months in the making, and it heats quicker than either of you are expecting. Your heart thunders and throbs to the point of aching. You shuffle closer in Peter’s lap and his hand presses into the small of your back, both of your breathing turning harsh and desperate.

“Missed you,” he says into your mouth.

“I missed you more.”

“Wanna bet?” Peter lifts you off the couch, and his casual strength shouldn’t surprise you anymore but it does. You laugh, again wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Shouldn’t we start to think about dinner?” you ask as he carries you towards your bedroom.

He hums, reluctant. “What time is it?”

You look to the side to check the clock on your microwave, and he kisses your cheekbone while you do. “Almost seven.”

Peter hums against your skin, pressing another kiss to the side of your nose. “We’ve got time.”

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lovelettersforthedamned · 3 months

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guess who just got their period 😒 .... now i need peter all cuddled up next to me just rambling while he holds me and rubs my back or my stomach as i fall asleep in his arms 🥺-🎀

The Importance of Touch (and Peter)

--genre: fluff that's so sweet, your teeth will start to hurt

--pairing: tasm!peter parker x afab!reader

--word count: 0.4k

--warnings: reader is a person who has a period, fluff.

love this cutsie little request ohemgee

--gif credits: @gatorstillman

More often than not, your period struck you like a damn bus. Obviously, you’re bleeding, but it’s not just that. Your cramps loved to attack your entire body, causing you to lay in bed all day. The thought of getting out of bed killed you, and when you did, you were hunched over doubling in agony.

And when you’re in pain, Peter follows. He’s always by your side, mostly for moral support, but also for when you need another ibuprofen. You couldn’t have asked for someone better when it came to things like this.

Peter is extremely patient, with all things, but especially you. And as he’s under you, rubbing your lower back, you reflect on how much you love him.

He’s been rambling about his spider duties as his rhythmic motions on your skin slowly put you in a blissful daze. The sun is shining through your windows, a warm glow pouring in like it always does during this time in the afternoon.

As you’re lying on his chest, you can hear his steady heartbeat, the rise and fall of your head as he breathes in and out, and the deep hum of his voice as it reverberates through his body. You wish you could stay like this forever, but for now, you’ll have to keep this moment in your memory. With Peter, it was like he took all your pain away, allowing you to have a moment of peace within your hectic day.

You’ve been responding to Peter as he recounts his night, painting you a descriptive picture in the process. Simple ‘mm-hmm’s were enough for Peter to keep talking until he noticed your silence more than anything.

Craning his neck, he sees how your eyes dart back and forth under your eyelids as you sleep. He can’t help but bring his other hand up to your face, softly running his fingers over the skin on your cheeks. Bringing his head down, he places a deep kiss into your hairline, “Good night, bug. I love you.”

Just because you were asleep doesn’t mean he stopped rubbing your back. Peter kept a steady pace until he fell asleep with you, both of your breaths in sync with one another's.

--author's note: something short and sweet for the kids, alright? also helloooo, i've been in a weird burnout funk recently (womp womp). this is my little contribution to writing my baby girl peter parker LOL. ALSO 🎀 anon you're cooking with these asks, and also i'm on my period too...don't forget to like, comment, and reblog to support your fav writers!!! my inbox/asks are open to send in requests babes. ok, ily bye<3333

#peter parker x reader #fluff #marvel #andrew garfield peter parker #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter parker #spiderman #tasm!peter parker fluff #peter parker #tasm!peter parker blurb #tasm!peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine

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beyondspaceandstars · 7 months

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"You deserve all the flowers."

Relationship: TASM!Peter Parker x Reader Drabble Summary: Peter brings you flowers every night and you're just not sure why. Word Count: 740 A/N: what?? what??? a new drabble - a FRESHLY written drabble? i got so excited last night when I finally had the motivation/inspiration to write. this is over on the word count for my usual drabbles but it's under 1k so i think it still counts lmao i hope you enjoy!!

Masterlist

You swore one of these days Peter was going to turn your apartment into a full-blown greenhouse. You didn’t know how it started or why he always showed up with flowers but your kitchen was crowded with vases and it was slowly spilling over into your living room.

And now here Peter, still in his Spider-Man suit, was once again entering your apartment through your fire escape window while gripping another bouquet. He brought you daisies this time. They were very fragrant; their scent filled your bedroom immediately.

"Hi, sweetheart," Peter muttered after he pulled off his mask. "I picked these up for you tonight. I hope they’re okay, I don’t think I’ve gotten you daisies in a while."

You couldn’t help but smile as you took the fresh flowers from him. "Thank you, Peter. They’re lovely," you replied. He had most certainly just gotten you daisies last week but you weren’t going to mention it. That bunch was in your kitchen, blooming and bright.

Peter planted a kiss on your cheek before shuffling aside your open textbooks and flopping on his unofficial official side of your bed. You were just finishing up studying for your college midterms when he came in.

You took in Peter’s exhausted form. He didn’t look too beat up, just a bit tired, which put you at ease. You weren’t a stranger to this situation. Peter would come to your apartment following his patrol, flowers in hand, ready to talk about nothing and everything before you both inevitably drifted off to sleep. But you’d never go to bed before the flowers were taken care of. Even though Peter brought you a plethora of them—so much so you were having to seriously get creative with the vases—each one melted your heart. Each one was special and deserved proper attention.

You cared for them because he cared enough to get them. But you never quite understood why it was so consistent. Did other girls want this many flowers?

"What were you working on?" Peter asked as he flipped through one of your textbooks. You watched his eyes skim the page.

"Philosophy," you answered, but it wasn’t like you had to. "I have a midterm coming up."

"Oh, yeah, we’re at that time of the year," he sighed. "Do you want me to quiz you on anything tonight?"

You shook your head and gently pulled the book from his hands. You closed the cover and shut your notebooks all while still coddling the bouquet of daisies. "Peter, can I ask you something?"

"Sure," he responded, his voice very level. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, of course," you assured him, "I just wanted to ask about the flowers."

He frowned. "The flowers?"

You nodded as you fiddled with the stems of the daisies. "They’re really beautiful and so thoughtful of you, it’s just…"

"What?" Peter gulped. "Do you not like them?"

"No," you insisted, "no, that’s not it at all. I love them so much. But I’m just curious… Why? Why do you bring me flowers every night?"

Your sweet boyfriend let out a sigh of relief at your question. "That’s what that big build-up was for?" He teased.

Your cheeks grew warm. "My apartment is drowning in flowers, Peter."

"There’s still room," he said with a shrug. "But to answer your question I… I guess it gives me something to focus on, a goal to have at the end of the night. It’s not always crazy out there but there’s been some things that have gotten to me and it’s just part of what keeps me going. I gotta protect the great people of this city and I gotta bring you flowers." Peter sighed. "I love you so much, sweetheart, and you deserve all the flowers."

An ache stabbed its way through your chest. Your grip on the flowers tightened as a tear threatened to spill out. Your reaction felt a little dramatic but your boyfriend’s words were just what you needed to hear.

"Oh, honey…" You nearly cried as you leaned over to place a kiss on his lips. He was also almost crying but still happily reciprocated the affection.

Peter sniffled. "I’m sorry I’ve been drowning you in flowers."

You shook your head and let out a breathy laugh. "I don’t mind anymore. Please drown me in flowers forever, babe."

"Forever," Peter repeated with a smile. "Absolutely. Forever. I can do forever."

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spiderfunkz · 8 months

Text

✧.* NEWSPAPER WRAPPED FLOWERS.

— summary : peter gifts you flowers.

— word count : 0,4k

— warnings : fluff, fem!reader, super cheesy stuff, dumb jokes, a kiss on the cheek, not proofread.

a/n : peter would be the sweetest bf ever!!

the new york nights were loud. so loud and noisy, yet the only thing you can hear at the moment is peter laughing. as if everything else just went silent.

"so like, what's the weirdest valentines gift you ever gotten?" he asked.

peter was explaining that he got a sock with pickles and hearts on it once for valentines day a few years ago.

first dates usually felt awkward. conversations seemed forced and dry, the air felt thick, and one wrong move can spill whatever drink you bought on your date's new white shirt.

but peter made it feel so, easy. maybe it's his cheesy friendly smile, or his chocolate-scented cologne that made you feel so comfortable with him, or maybe it's the fact that you've liked him since middle school.

"the weirdest valentines gift i've ever gotten?" you repeated the question, "yeah." he nodded.

"i've never really gotten a valentines gift, i mean does a note from my mom count?" you say, sipping your milkshake.

"you've never gotten a valentines gift before?" peter gasps, you can't tell if he's seriously shocked or not. "no?" — "not even flowers?" he asks. "no, is it really that big of a deal?" you question. "uh, yes!" he nodded.

"i just can't believe no one has given a pretty girl like you flowers." he says in disbelief.

"what's this?" you ask.

after you mentioned that you've never received flowers before, it has been peter's mission to gift you flowers.

"flowers." peter smiled awkwardly. "you told me no one has ever given you flowers before."

you take the flowers, "you didn't even take the price tag off."

"i wanted to emphasize the massive amount of money i'd spend for you. also, you didn't even thank me yet." peter stood.

"peter it's 25 dollars! that's way too much." you point out, the bouquet was beyond beautiful though. "i'd spend 25 dollars for you any day." he replies.

you smile at him, admiring the bouquet of flowers, your first ever bouquet of flowers. "why is there a bite on one of the leaves?" you question the cartoon-y bite.

"uh, i may or may not have eaten one of the leaves." he rocks back and fourth, hands in his pockets.

"why?"

"because i needed to know if it was real or not."

"so you ate it?"

"i took a little bite."

you stare at him, how can midtown sciences number two be this, unbelievable.

"did it taste real?"

"yeah, i mean it tasted like.. a leaf."

"you're unbelievable." you shook your head.

"i can already tell you're falling in love with me even more now." he makes that cheesy smile again.

"maybe." you give him a kiss on the cheek.

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cosmal · 1 year

Note

✪ — sender is found drunk by receiver, ❛ i just wanted to make sure you’re okay. ❜

tequila makes me sleepy

summary — pete comes to find you at a party after you call him.

content — tasm!peter parker x fem!afab!reader, drunk!reader, metnions of gross guys sexualizing reader

Peter doesn't have his mask on. He's been swinging about Queens trying to find the party you're at and he hasn't thought about how he's recognisable the entire time.

He thinks about how tired you'd sounded on the phone. How you'd begged him to stay on the phone so you wouldn't fall asleep. Thinking about it more makes him panicky, but he can't help it.

"Tequila makes me sleepy, Parker."

"Yeah? Where are you, honey?"

"Some party. Stay on the phone? Don't wanna fall asleep."

Eventually, he finds the party. In the back of his dizzy mind, he remembers you mentioning it on Tuesday when you were over at his apartment. He remembers how excited you were about it and how upset you were because he wasn't coming.

He lands in the alley beside the building and wastes no time in pushing through the front door. He stands in the front entranceway and starts to get frustrated. Most of the time, he hates his enhanced senses. Even more so right now because he can't hear you.

He blames it on the crowd. There are way too many people here for him to be focusing on just one. But it's you. He knows more about you than he does himself and he can't fucking hear you. He hopes that he's too overwhelmed. The reason why he can't hear you. Not because you've left and you're somewhere, drunk and unsafe, where he can't find you.

"Hey," he grabs the arm of some drunk guy, "where's the bedroom?"

Pointing down to the left with a wobbly arm, "Down that hall," he slurs.

Peter doesn't say thank you. He drops his arm and heads In that direction. Avoiding PDA and more rowdy drunk guys.

The relief he feels when he pushes open the door only lasts a few moments. He finds you, on your stomach with your face smooshed against your arm, asleep. Your sparkly dress rides up your legs to reveal enough bare skin to make Peter feel uncomfortable. He's grateful he's here right now.

The mattress dips down where he sits down by your head, and can't help himself from pushing your messy hair from your face.

Your lips parted, you wrinkle up your face when you start to rouse. Peter is selfish with his hands, squeezing at the fat of your shoulder, running a knuckle down your soft cheek. Slowly, you come to, blinking away your fatigue. Peter, and he's super sorry for it, thinks you're adorable.

"Hello," he says softly. He doesn't know why, but he feels guilty for waking you.

"Peter," you say, lips sticking together with blotchy gloss, "Pete, hey." This time when you say it, it's just understandable. He appreciates the fond hum to your words nonetheless.

"Hey," he says and pushes his thumb into your cheek. You groan because he's a nuisance but he doesn't care because you're okay.

You sit up on your elbows and he can tell you're trying not to wobble. He wants to stable you but doesn't know how to in your position. You seem as dizzy as he'd expect because you always are when drunk. You have the scars on your knees to prove it.

"What are you doing here?" you mumble, scratching at your face with a flippancy he hates.

He catches your hand and rubs your face for you. Gently, because he's not mean, he smooths the back of his hand down your cheek and pushes his fingers over your eyebrow and into your hair.

"Just wanted to make sure you were okay," he tells you. "You sounded bad on the phone, honey."

"Shit, I'm," you hiccup and he panics for a moment. "Shit I'm sorry, Pete, I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's okay," he says honestly. You did scare him but it's okay now because it was reasonable. And you're okay.

You sit up and swing your legs over the edge of the bed and he stables you with a hand on the bottom of your back. Pulling your dress down your legs, he frowns when you shiver.

"You cold?" he worries.

Nodding, you clearly regret it with a groan. "A little. This dress is horrible."

"You think?"

"Yeah, it's itchy and-" you're hiccuping some more and he hopes you don't make yourself sick, "it's too small. The guys here- they, they're gross."

Peter goes rigid. "They didn't do anything did they?"

You shake your head and there's a timidness to you that Pete wants to capture and keep forever. You, an image, rumpled clothes and droopy eyes. Despite how worried he'd been only ten minutes ago, he thinks you're amazing. It's terrifying, honestly.

"No, they just look at me..." you trail off and look at the wall over Peter's shoulder quickly, "They look at me like I'm a piece of meat."

Peter doesn't know what to say. He feels queasy.

"Well, they don't look at me like you are right now."

"Like what?" he lets his tongue catch up to his head.

"I don't know." You shrug and look at your lap.

Peter can't help himself. "I hope they don't look at you like I do. Like you're the prettiest girl in the room. If they do, they need to find someone else."

You let your head fall against his shoulder. "Pete..."

"It's true."

"They don't." He can hear your smile.

"They don't?" Peter now sounds half-offended. "Who else are they looking at like that? You're the prettiest girl in the room."

You have the decency in you to scoff. "You're unbelievable."

"I know," he says when you yawn. "I know. C'mon let's get you home."

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bruisedboys · 9 months

Note

Helluu, congrats!!!

I would like to request STAR TRIPPING, blurbs— “i don’t have time for distractions” and (if it’s okay to choose two prompts, if not you can choose the one you want to write:)) “you look so pretty right now” with tasm!pete<3

another old 4k celly request!! sorry this is so late angel. I went with the second prompt, hope this is okay!

tasm!peter parker x gn!reader

Peter’s bleeding out on your bed. Again.

You can’t say you’re very surprised.

“Pete, would you please just stay still? I cant focus when you keep touching me like that.”

Peter isn’t a very good patient. At least not when you’re nursing him. He wants to touch you and look at your face and basically find any way to distract you from the task at hand. Which just so happens to be patching him up.

“Sorry,” he says, pulling his hands away from where they’d been resting in your shoulders, his thumbs tracing your collarbones through your shirt. His shirt, really. But who’s paying attention to that?

You huff. He doesn’t sound very sorry at all. He sounds like he’s smiling. You look up from where your eyes had been trained on his bruised and bloodied chest and find you’re right. He’s smirking.

You glare. Peter balks.

“What?” He says, dripping in fake innocence. “I just— you look so pretty right now.” His eyes go all melty and soft and so does his voice. He reaches up with one hand to cup your burning cheek. “I can’t help it, dove.”

You groan. He’s lovely. And he’s a total menace. You hate him, you swear.

“I can’t believe you,” you say, nudging his hand away with your cheek. “I just got out of bed. I look so gross.”

“You don’t,” Peter says, sounding way more offended than he needs to be. His hand finds your waist and you can feel it’s warmth through the soft fabric of your (his) t-shirt. You very secretly wish he’d dip his hand under the hem like he always does. “You’re beautiful.”

You drop the cloth you’re dabbing his wounds with and climb out of his lap with a huff.

“Y/N—!”

“I’m going back to bed,” you say grumpily, walking away without looking back.

Despite his wounds, Peter catches up with you within an instant, promising to keep his hands to himself until you’re finished cleaning him up. He doesn’t keep his promise. You find you don’t mind as much as you should.

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astermath · 8 months

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peter parker is a bit of a loser skater boyfriend.

okay, he's not that much of a loser. he takes cool photos, he's good looking and he's done a skate grind on the campus staircase at least once.

and being spiderman is pretty cool too I guess.

but when he's around you, it seems like all the charm melts right off his body, and he's reduced to a nervous college student who's seemingly never interacted with a girl before.

he doesn't mean to, and neither do you, but you seem to bring out that side of him. the side that fails a skating trick every time you're looking. the side that makes him stumble over his words and almost forget his own name. the side that makes him run his hand through his hair until it sticks all over the place, and somehow he's not all that confident in his charisma and wit anymore.

and yet, every time, you offer him that sweet giggle that sends his heart into overdrive, that overtakes all his senses and makes him want to record it and listen to it on loop.

it makes him want to keep trying. until he gets the courage to finally ask you out.

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 1 month

Note

Hi! I just found out about your blog (aka the best decision ever) and I literally fell in love. So my ask is (whenever you're taking requests btw) a peter parker x reader where the reader's doing the simplest of things and peters just, heart eyes. Thanks a bunch sweets <3333 xoxo

a/n: this is super short, but exactly what i needed to write on a terrible horrible stressful day

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist

“Alright, spidey-boy,” curled up in the crook of the sofa, you opened up the food delivery app on your phone, “what do you want for lunch? What do you want?” you repeated with rhythmic goofiness. Eyes ever glued to the screen before your nose and not the man lounging at the other end of the couch, you rocked gently as you scrolled through the options, “what do you want, my baby Peter? Oh!” your eyes then went wide in a slightly childlike manner at the idea your wordplay had suddenly conjured, “Peter, pita! What about that, huh? A little falafel action?” you finally glanced up to catch his eye, fishing for an answer, but not finding the one you sought. Like warm afternoon sun streaming through the windows, a soft and adoring smile crinkled up Peter’s eyes as he simply stared at you, “what?”

“Nothing,” his head shook gently from side to side as his loving gaze continued to pierce your soul, “falafel sounds great.”

#lea’s writing #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker imagine #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x fem!reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker request #peter parker blurb #peter parker fluff #peter parker drabble #spiderman x reader #tasm!peter parker x reader #mcu!peter parker x reader #mcu!peter parker x you #tasm!peter parker imagine #tasm!peter parker x you #tasm!peter parker fanfiction #tasm!peter parker fluff

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flightlessangelwings · 1 year

Text

“standing on your tippy toes, frustrated you can't reach your lover's lips”

Tasm!Peter Parker x gn!reader (no use of y/n)

Word count- 592

Warnings- established relationship, fluff, slight bickering but playfully

Notes- Requested by @darylas for my 4k follower celebration! Thanks so much for the request! I took inspo from the og Spiderman movies for this one so I hope you liked it!

Taglists are closed. To stay up to date on when I post, follow my update blog and turn on post notifs @flightlessangelwings-updates

~

“Come on Peter, that's not fair!” you pouted as you looked up at him.

“You almost got it, honey,” he teased back as he hung from his web upside down, just out of your reach, “Come one, just a little bit further.”

You huffed as you rolled your eyes, “You can be a real pain sometimes, you know that?” you crossed your arms as you stayed still.

“Ok, ok,” Peter laughed softly as he lowered himself slightly, “There, now you should reach me.”

You stared at him for several moments, waiting for him to jerk himself back up at the last second. Your body remained tense as you looked into his eyes and the silence consumed you both. But, as you looked at Peter, you couldn’t help but melt. He had a way about him that you could never resist, and you were sure he knew it.

“Alright,” you sighed as you uncrossed your arms and reached up for him where he hung above you. His features softened as a soft smile lit up his face and it made your heart flutter. You reached for him and parted your lips, ready to kiss him.

Peter’s scent engulfed you as you closed the gap between your faces, and your eyes fluttered close as the romance of the moment took over. You placed your hands on either side of his face as your lips hovered over his. But, just as you were about to kiss him, Peter pulled himself up so that he was just out of your way again.

“Pete!” you sighed in exasperation, “You jerk!”

He couldn’t help but burst out into laughter as you huffed at him, “I’m sorry sweetheart… I can’t help it!,” Peter shickered, “You look so cute when you’re like this!” He laughed so hard that he lost his grip on his webbing.

In a flash, Peter suddenly came crashing down onto the ground, “Ow,” he huffed as his shoulder hit the pavement.

All the anger melted away as you dropped to your knees next to him, “Peter!” you exclaimed, “You ok?” you rested your hands on him as checked him over as he grumbled in pain as slowly sat up.

“Yeah…” Peter groaned, “M’ fine.”

“Good,” your voice turned more stern as you slapped his chest.

“Hey! Ow!”

“That’s what you get for teasing me like that!” you scolded him.

Peter’s eyes softened as he looked at you from a new angle. He loved looking at you from every angle; at every angle you were beautiful. And while sometimes he got in a playful mood and liked to tease you, Peter loved nothing more than having you by his side. He reached out and cupped your face tenderly.

“Forgive me?” He gave you his best puppy dog pout.

You looked at him sternly for several moments before you too melted. You couldn’t ever stay mad at him for long, and you knew you would get what you wanted eventually, “I guess,” you teased him back.

“Heyyy,” he sighed before he closed the gap between your faces and took your lips with his.

Both of you melted into the kiss as you lost yourselves in each other. All the games, the banter, the teasing faded away and all that mattered was each other. You immediately parted your lips for him- a sign of forgiveness. And Peter instantly took the invitation.

“You know I love you, right,” Peter murmured against your lips as he peppered soft kisses along your face.

“I know,” you whispered back, “I love you too.”

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styleswithaseaview · 5 months

Text

movie night | p.p. x reader

requested: here pairing: tasm!peter parker x shy!reader summary: you want to watch a movie with peter on your first night in your new apartment. he has other plans. wc: 1k of pure fluff note: thanks for requesting!! i tried my best with shy!r but i am very not shy so if it's awkward apologies :)

“It’s a crime.” Your tone of voice is mock-serious, with the face to match, but Peter can tell that there’s a smile creeping on your lips.

“I’m sorry!!” he replies, putting his hands up.

“When Harry Met Sally is a classic, Peter. I watch it at least twice a year.”

“Really? Twice a year?” He’s not seriously questioning your movie-watching habits, but you read it wrong and try to backtrack.

“I mean… I don’t know, it’s a really good movie. I-I don’t know how you haven’t seen it,” you look down at your hands where the DVD sits. You had been unpacking boxes into your and Peter’s new apartment when you stumbled upon it, unable to resist pulling it out.

“I’m sure it is, bug. I trust your judgment. We can watch it tonight, if you wanna?” His reassurance is enough, and you let yourself grin at him unabashedly.

“Can we?” you’re brimming with excitement. It’s not just the film; it’s Peter, it’s the fact that you live together now. You think that you could watch a movie with him every night for the rest of your life and be perfectly content to do so.

A few hours later, the apartment is still not fully unpacked. But you have a couch, and a TV; you decide to have microwave popcorn for dinner and deal with the rest of it in the morning.

You put the movie in and join Peter on the sofa. His arms are open and you happily cuddle up into him, wrapping a blanket around you and munching on your popcorn. His arm is snug around you and you’re leaning into the crook of his neck. He presses soft kisses to the crown of your head when the movie starts. You ignore him, at first, used to his regular affections and thinking he’ll settle in a few minutes.

A few minutes pass and Peter’s hand has now crept into yours. You’re partially too focused on the movie to notice and partially love him too much to care. He starts to toy with your fingers, blatantly not paying attention to the movie anymore and looking at your face.

“Give me a kiss,” he says, under his breath. You oblige, of course, turning away from the movie to press your lips against his. His hand slips from yours and flattens against your waist, trying his best to pull you closer towards him. You pull away.

“Peter, you have to watch. We’re getting to the good part, promise,” you say, detaching his hand from your side and placing it on the back of the couch.

“They don’t even like each other yet… is this a slow burn or no burn, baby? Kinda silly to watch two people not be in love when the girl I’m madly in love with is sitting right here, in just dire need of my attention.” His voice is full of theatrical drama, typical Peter, and he punctures his words with little kisses to your forehead (for emphasis, of course).

“That’s what makes it so good, though! It’s…” You’re distracted by his kisses moving down to your neck and you soften a little in his arms. “They do love each other, they’re just in denial. That’s what makes it so great when they finally get together.”

“Ah. And when will that be?” He looks at you and you both can’t help but giggle.

“You have to be patient, Pete. Good things come with time.”

“I’ve never been a patient man,” he replies and actually uses his strength this time to pull you up and into his lap.

“Peter, you have to watch!” you say, no real urgency behind your voice, and he shakes his head vigorously, pressing a bunch of teeny little kisses all over your face and nuzzling his nose into your neck. You get overwhelmed with all the love, blushing profusely and tipping your head down to try to avoid his affection. It’s a futile attempt, really, and he just lifts your chin up in response, pressing a slow, sweet kiss to your lips.

“Don’t get all shy on me, now, bug,” Peter says when you pull apart.

“Want you to watch the movie.” Your voice is quiet, and you press the top of your head firmly against his chest to prevent any more kisses.

“Well I want to watch you,” he says, rubbing your back sweetly. You can hear the smile in his voice. You lift your head up only to glare daggers at him; you know if you try to say words to him all that will come out is happy, nervous noises (courtesy of his over-the-top and, in your opinion, unwarranted affection). “Okay, fine, fine, fine. I’ll watch. You need to sit on the other side of the couch or something, though, baby. Too distracting.” You smile and oblige, scooting over to sit with your feet facing him, sideways on the sofa.

You last about three minutes in that position before Peter makes a noise akin to a whine.

“Come back over here, I miss you too much. Changed my mind.” He makes grabby hands at you, and you once again comply. You really can never say no to him, especially when he pulls those big brown puppy dog eyes on you. You return to your original position, cuddled up into his side, and he’s grinning at you.

“You’re still not watching the movie, Pete,” you scold with no real malice.

“Okay, okay. Okay. I’ll watch. I do think this Harry guy should just… I dunno, grow a pair and confess, you know?”

“Peter… that wouldn’t make a very good movie, babe.”

“Well it worked out for me, didn’t it?” He grins, kissing your cheek, and you can’t help but preen at his constant affection. Harry and Sally, the movie couple, have nothing on you, you think.

#tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter parker x you #the amazing spider man #andrew garfield x reader #andrew garfield #tasm!peter parker fluff

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