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#tasm!peter x fem!reader
forever-rogue · 1 year
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Blonde!Peter request: it’s quarantine and he gets so ridiculously bored that he borderline forced you to help him bleach his hair, and when you realize “oh fuck, he’s actually really hot with blonde hair”, some steaminess occurs? However far it ends up going is up to you, but also Peter thinking it’s kinda funny and being like “I woulda done this years ago if I had known me being blonde would get you all flustered like this” because he’s a little shit
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AN |  No, but blond!Peter does something for me. He’s so hot ❤️
Pairing | tasm!Peter Parker x Fem!Reader
Warnings | Language, Sexual References
Word Count | 3k
Masterlist | Main | Peter
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“I am so bored,” Peter groaned loudly as he walked into the living room only to find you sprawled on the couch, watching yet another episode of another new show you were binging through. You caught his eye and nodded before moving so he could sit down next to you, “I think I might lose my mind.”
“Peter,” you rolled your eyes at your roommate, “you’re like a literal genius, surely you can think of something to do.”
“Wish that was true, buttercup,” he laid his head on the back of the couch, “there’s nothing to do - even for Spider-Man. It’s like even criminals decided to take a break and listen to the rules for once.”
“Damn.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, slyly looking you over. His breath almost caught in his throat as he realized you were in nothing but short-shorts and one of his old shirts. He thought he’d lost that one…but it looked way better on you, “yeah.”
A comfortable silence fell over the two of you as he watched whatever show you’d put on, attempting to keep up with the plotline but zoning out more than anything. His thoughts kept drifting back to you, despite his best efforts. He’d always had feelings for you, despite the fact that you were off limits - you were his roommate and his best friend. He wasn’t about to throw all that away by making a fool out of himself. But, ever since you’d both been stuck together in quarantine, his feelings and urges were growing stronger and stronger. 
It was starting to be a problem. There was only so many times he could jerk off to you in the shower before you caught on. Especially when it was always your name dripping from his lips like pure, sweet honey. He cleared his throat and focused his attention back on the screen. After a bit of half-assed watching, he came up with a brilliant idea.
“I’m going to bleach my hair.”
“Peter, no.”
“Peter, yes,” there was a wicked glint in his honeyed eyes that told you he was up to no good, “and you’re going to help.”
“Absolutely not,” you rolled your eyes, “you do not need to be blond, Peter Benjamin Parker.”
“There’s nothing else to do,” he groaned and poked your side, grinning when you squealed due to your ticklishness, “and we have the stuff from when you decided you need pink hair!”
“Hey, that was necessary,” you insisted, giving him a pout, “and don’t act like you didn’t like it, Pete. I know you did.”
“That’s,” you could see the flush of rose rise up in his cheeks, “that’s besides the point! Baby, just say you’ll help me.”
“Peter,” you raised an eyebrow, “don’t call me that.”
“Come on, please help,” you both knew that you could never say no to Peter Parker. You waved him off, “I’ll do whatever you want in return.”
“Fine,” you gave in with a huff and he pumped his fist in the air, “I’ll help you.”
“You’re the best,” he leaned over and pressed a big, sloppy kiss to your cheek, “I always knew I loved ya.”
You sat there in stunned silence as he jumped off the couch and practically ran to the bathroom. Your own face reddened as you watched him go, trying not to stare at his ass and how good it looked in those stupid grey sweatpants. Sometimes it was hard to be in love with your best friend and roommate. Especially when he was hot, smart, funny, and nice as Peter Parker.
You weren’t sure how you were going to survive quarantine without something happening between the two of you. Fuck.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“Peter, I need you to stop squirming and stay still,” he was seated at the edge of the tub as you tried to brush through his thick locks of hair. You could tell the boy, with all his energy, was already getting impatient at having to sit still for so long, “it’s not my fault you have stupidly thick, gorgeous hair. You sure you wanna ruin it, bub?”
“You like my hair, huh?” you didn’t even have to look at his face to know that he was smirking, “it’s not gonna ruin it…right?”
“I mean it won’t ruin it,” you gently dragged the brush through the last of his hair, “but it’ll damage it and take a minute to get back to how soft and healthy it is. You are bleaching it after all.”
“Am I going to end up with straw hair?” he teased and you couldn’t help but snort at the comment.
“No,” you promised as you crouched down and brushed a few stray locks out of his face, “I’ll take good care of you, Pete.”
He raised an eyebrow at your little innuendo and your entire face flush with warmth, “you’ll take good care of me, huh?”
“Your hair,” you quickly corrected, “I’ll take good care of your hair.”
“You can do whatever you like to me,” Peter had never been one to be shy with his affection around you, but you’d never been ready to cross the line from best friends to lovers. But Peter, among other things, was a patient man - a horny but patient man, and he was willing to wait for you. 
“I’m gonna mix the bleach now so we can start,” you stood and pulled out of his grasp as you busied yourself on the counter with making the right mixture for his hair, “just sit for a few or run around and get your energy out now.”
“Well then,” he practically bounced up and ducked out of the bathroom, “I’ll be back in less than 10!”
“Peter-”
But he was already gone and down the hall, evidenced by the slam of his bedroom door. Odd. But you decided not to question him; you knew better than to question him. Maybe he was just gonna do some exercise in his room for a few moments. You shrugged to yourself as you grabbed the developer and packets of powdered bleach. 
Little did you know that Peter was in his room, pulling his hard cock out and jerking off before going back to you. He was surprised you hadn’t noticed his little problem when you were crouching right in front of him. But he needed to take care of it if he was going to survive you putting bleach all over his hair. Your gentle touch, your warm scent, your tits almost in his face, all of it made him harder than he cared to admit. His plan was to quickly get it out of his system and think some of the worst thoughts possible while you were all over him.
“Fuck,” he groaned quickly, hoping you didn’t hear the slick of his hand on his cock. It didn’t take long for him to almost spill in his hand. He pictured it was your smaller hand wrapped his cock, with your pretty, smart mouth opened to catch his cum on your tongue, “you’re so fuckin’ pretty. Fuck, baby.”
It wasn’t long before he spilled onto his hand, stuffing his fist into his mouth to keep from moaning too loudly. He didn’t need you to hear him whimper your name right before he came back for you to bleach his hair. 
He cleaned himself up and steadied his breathing, trying to compose him before going back out to you. Once he was sure that what he had done wasn’t too obvious, he went back into the bathroom and felt his heart rate pick up immediately. You’d changed into another pair of tight little shorts and an old, ratty t-shirt of his that you didn’t need to worry about getting bleach. You were too beautiful. 
“You ready, Pete?” you turned to him with a sweet smile, and damn. He felt his knees grow weak as he sat back down in his little designated space. He’d fought criminals, was a certified genius, but seeing you in those little shorts made him malfunction. 
“Y-yeah,” he managed to choke out as you pulled on a pair of plastic gloves.
“I’m gonna start with the length and then the roots come last, okay. They develop faster and if we do this first it won’t be even with the rest of your hair,” you explained as he nodded like he actually comprehended a word you were saying, “if it starts to burn or you feel uncomfortable let me know, yeah?”
“Okay,” he closed his eyes as you started to put the bleach in his hair. He figured that maybe if he didn’t watch you, he’d be able to keep himself from all of his fantasies of you. 
You worked slowly and methodically, singing softly under your breath as along to the music you’d started playing from the small bluetooth speaker. After a few songs he instantly realized that you were shuffling the playlist he’d made for you. Oh. He had it bad for you.
It seemed like an eternity until you were done, making a satisfied sound as you looked at his head full of bleach. You grabbed the plastic bag you’d brought in with you and wrapped it around his head, “gotta let it all meld together for a bit. It’s gonna feel hot, okay? But if it gets to be too much, let me know. I think leaving for about forty-five minutes should be fine, then you can wash it off. We’ll go from there…your hair isn’t too dark and virgin so it should take easily.”
“Thanks babe,” he relaxed and grinned when you didn’t correct him on the nickname, “I’m sure it’ll be great. I owe you.”
“What’re friends for?” you teased as you pulled off the gloves and started to clean up. You felt his eyes on you, knowing he was checking you out, but decided to ignore, “go and relax, Pete. I’ll be done here in a few. Put on a movie or something.”
He made a small sound before padding his way into the living, a flurry of emotions coursing through his veins. You were already the best parts of him, held the biggest place in his heart, but you were making this so difficult. He wanted nothing more than to just-
“Hey,” you walked back into the room and plopped down on the couch next to him, “what’re we watching?”
“I just ugh…the Office?” he asked lamely as your face lit up. Of course he’d pick your favorite show. You gave him a cheeky little wink before making yourself comfortable. He swallowed the lump in his throat as he tried to focus on the screen. 
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
The timer on your phone went off and startled both of you. Neither of you had been watching the show very closely, both hyper aware of each other’s presence, “alright Pete, time to go shower! So, wash the bleach out, shampoo, and then use my deep conditioner. That should take care of it nicely.”
“Alright,” he grinned, excited to see the results of your hard work, “I’ll be back eventually!”
“If I’m asleep by the time you get back,” you poked a finger at his chest, “don’t blame me. You’re the one that decided to do this late at night.”
“I would never,” he wrapped his long, slender fingers around your wrist before giving your hand a small squeeze, “well, I’ll be back as blond Peter soon!”
“Dork,” you laughed, a sound that went straight to his heart, as he ran into the bathroom. You yawned, rubbing at your tired eyes before deciding to lay on your bed as you waited for him. Unfortunately, you were fast asleep within minutes, unable to keep your eyes open any longer. 
“Babe,” he stepped into your doorway, his features softening when he spotted you all curled up and snoring lightly. He pulled back your blankets before picking you up effortlessly, without waking you, and tucking you under the covers. He smiled as you buried your head into the pillows, unable to stop himself from pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, “good night, buttercup.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
When you woke up, you found the early morning light streaming in through the gap in your curtains. You yawned and stretched, enjoying the popping of your stiff joints as you realized that you were under the covers. Strange. You didn’t even remember falling asleep or tucking yourself in. After rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you slid out of bed and walked out of your room in search of coffee. Since you couldn’t go to your favorite cafe at the moment, you’d taken up learning to make all sorts of coffees at home. A pick me up was exactly what you needed right now. 
But as soon as you made it into the living you stopped dead in your tracks. There was Peter Fuckin’ Parker, sitting - manspreading - on the couch as he casually read a book, and sipped a cup of coffee. Not only that, but he had a head of bleached blond hair, which and you hated to admit this, made him look fine as hell. 
He must have heard the hitch of your breath along with the quickened beating of your heart because he looked up and gave that golden boy smile that made your knees almost buckle. How did he not only look amazing with his natural hair but so disgustingly hot with the head of blond hair. 
“Good morning,” he closed his book, which you quickly spied to be Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? as he gave you his full attention. You opened your mouth to say something, anything, but your mouth ran dry, “you alright? Cat got your tongue?”
“Pete,” you blinked a few times and tore your gaze away before you got too lost in those glittering honey eyes, “the blond worked out. L-looks great.”
“Yeah?” he stood and walked over to you, running a hand through his newly bleached locks, “you think so?”
“Of course,” you swallowed thickly before moving past him to go into the kitchen. Maybe you could get out the feelings of frustration you were feeling on making a fancy iced coffee, “you always do.”
He followed you into the kitchen, leaning against the counter with his strong arms crossed over his broad chest. You could feel him watching your every move intently, but you tried to ignore it as best as you could, “you know I woulda done this years ago if I had known me being blond would get you all flustered like this.”
“Peter,” you turned around and he was right there, his big brown eyes on yours, refusing to leave or back down, “I-I’m not flustered.”
“Why are you lying to me?” he whispered, reaching up and touching your face, bushing his knuckles over your cheek, “I can hear how fast your heart is beating…I can smell you.”
“Pete…” he set his hand flat on your chest, just above your heart as he felt it beat rapidly under his touch.
“I know what you’re going to say,” he backed you up until you were pressed against the counter and looking up at him with wide, doe eyes, “you don’t want to make a mistake. But baby, just give this a chance. You gotta know I’m in love with you, right? That I’ve been in love with you since we were kids. I know you’re scared, but give me a chance, sweetheart. You’re fucking breaking my heart, looking like you do everyday, smiling that pretty smile, using that smart mouth…”
“Peter,” you put your hand on top of his and gently pulled it away from your face, “I…I’m scared.”
“Of me?”
“No,” you shook your head, “scared that if we don’t work out…I’d lose you. I don’t think I could live without you, Peter.”
“That won’t happen,” he leaned in so his face was close to yours, his lips almost brushing against yours, “I promise. I’ve always been yours, baby, even if you didn’t want to see it. But if you don’t want this, really don’t want this, just say it and I’ll leave you alone.”
You could feel his warmth fanning over your lips, and you knew what he was saying was true. You closed your eyes for a moment before nodding ever so slightly, “I’m yours.”
That was all it took before he crashed his lips onto yours, kissing you sweetly and softly at first. When you were left dizzied and breathless, you pulled back and looked into his eyes, seeing that soft, dopey smile on his face. He put his hands on either side of your face before he pressed gentle kisses to your cheeks, forehead, and nose before stopping back at your lips, “say it again.”
“Peter-”
“Say it again.”
“I’m yours,” he didn’t hesitate for a moment before he effortlessly picked you up and you wrapped your legs around his waist. He was kissing you with a fervent hunger, years of pent up emotions being released all at once. He was carrying you to his room without removing his lips from yours. He tenderly laid you down on the bed, surprisingly gentle and reverent in his movements. 
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he held himself over you, strong arms caging you in and nudging his nose with yours, “I’m so in love with you.”
“Yeah?” your soft little question had his heart practically melting.
“Yeah,” he laughed softly, kissing you lazily.
“I’m in love with you,” you promised softly, “with brown or blond hair. But I gotta admit, Peter, you look so fucking sexy with the blond.”
“I knew you’d like it,” he grinned wolfishly, “my pretty girl.”
“I have one more question for you now…”
“Anything.”
“You gonna fuck me now?”
“With pleasure.”
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astermath · 10 months
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bae i’m not sure if u were asking 4 reqs with the prompt list but if u are !!! i’d love to see ur take on
— “not that i’m happy you’re sunburnt, but i am enjoying getting to be the one helping you put aloe vera on.”
with baby peter <3 i’m picturing his nose a little pink mmmm
— @inkluvs (ivy)
absolutely I was ajdkdk ty for sending one in bae <3 I love writing for peter sm, he’s so easy to fall back on yk?
pairing: tasm!peter parker x fem!reader
word count: 0.4K
normal sized font below!
send me some heatwave prompts! <3
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Peter hisses when your fingers make contact with his back. Although the aloe vera is supposed to be soothing, according to you, he’s not exactly enjoying it at first.
The two of you had gone out to the beach the day before, on a little much needed vacation. Your boyfriend, eager as ever to go into the ocean, had forgotten that yes, you do need to reapply sunscreen after you go into the water.
Needless to say the day after, most of his body was burned bad enough for him to resemble a lobster. Sadly for him, “lobster-man” doesn’t have the same ring to it, so he’ll have to cope with you helping him out for now.
“Will you sit still please? I need to work it into your skin baby.” You scolded him. You knew it was uncomfortable, but unless he wanted his skin to start peeling this was the best you could do for him.
“I’m sorry, it’s just— very cold.”
“I still can’t believe you didn’t know you had to reapply sunscreen.”
“I live in Queens baby, I never go to the beach. Besides, I wear a full body suit half the time, don’t need sunscreen when I’m covered head to toe.”
You were finally done with his back and shoulders, so you moved on to his front. His face was relatively spared from burning, which you were happy about. There was just a slight bit of redness on his cheeks and nose. It almost looked like a permanent blush.
You took his face in your hands, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his lips as a reward for sitting still. “Not that I’m happy that you’re sunburnt baby, but,” you put some of the liquid onto your fingers and gently applied it to his cheeks, “I am enjoying this though.”
“What, helping me put valo era on?”
“Aloe vera.”
“That’s what I said.”
“And yes, I am.” You smiled. “As much as I feel bad for you looking like a tomato, I’ll take any excuse I get for touching you.” You gave him a sweet, quick peck on the nose. “You’re all done baby.”
“Oh, but— what about my chest?”
You grinned. “I think you can manage to do that yourself, no? Besides, I thought you weren’t enjoying it.”
“No, well, I think you just— know how to do it better, you know?” He put on his most convincing smile. “Please?”
“You know I can never say no to you.” You took the cap off the tube again and squirted some of the gel onto your hand again.
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cosmal · 1 year
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✪ — oh em gee what about ❛ this is a good look for you. ❜ with peter parker
stained
summary — peter spills a drink on your top at a party.
content — tasm!peterparker x fem!afab!reader, mentions of nudity
note — sorry this is super short! more of a baby blurb!
You sit on the edge of the toilet, naked from the waist up, while Peter is hunched over the bathroom sink, scrubbing at your shirt.
"Peter, just leave it, I'll wash it at home," you say softly. He looks really determined.
He'd spilt his drink all over your top downstairs at the party you're at. He'd felt horrible and insisted that he could get the stain out in the sink. The green stain out of your white top.
Turns out dawn soap and lukewarm water don't do the job. "I'm sorry, baby, really," he frets, holding the top up where it drips into the sink. You're not sure if he's made it better or worse. You appreciate him nonetheless.
"Pete, thank you, really," you start, shifting uncomfortably over the plastic lid. You cross your arms over your chest, where your bra digs into your skin, and look at the wet mess Peter holds in his hands. "It's okay. But now I have no top."
Peter drops the shirt looking really guilty. He feels horrible because he's ruined one of your favourite tops and he's also the reason you're half-naked in some random condo.
"Shit," he curses to himself.
He doesn't think twice. Peeling his jacket off, he stands at your knees and holds it out. "Here," he says bashfully. It's a thin jacket, made of nothing really. It's all you've got and you're not about to start complaining.
You stand to slip it on and hate it when you realise it has no zipper. Or any buttons. You pull it taut over your front and start to feel anxious. "Can you see anything?"
He pulls the collar forwards over your collarbones and smooths it out over your shoulders. "You're safe," he smiles. You watch his throat bob under the skin of his lightly stubbled neck. "It, uh, it looks really good."
"Pete," you groan while tipping your head back. "I'm naked, in the middle of the city, wearing my clumsy boyfriend's jacket, and you're getting turned on?"
"What?" he gawps, clearing his throat, "I am not! You just suit it, that's all."
You pull it tight around your middle and roll your eyes. "You're unbelievable."
He plays with the hem between his fingers, keeping his eyes planted to the floor momentarily. "It's a good look on you."
You straighten your back and ignore the way he's making you feel. Time and place you remember. "Right, we're going outside unnoticed and you're gonna hail a cab with those long arms of yours."
"You don't wanna swing home?" he asks.
"You don't have your shit," you grumble. It'd be convenient, but also reckless.
"My shit? You mean my suit?" he laughs, wrapping a hand around the hinge of your elbow. "I'm gonna pretend you didn't say that because I deserve it."
Peter makes sure you're decent before he opens the door to the bathroom. You stand behind him, hanging off his arm, hoping his broad shoulders will do you a favour and hide you well.
There's a drunk guy on the other side for the toilet presumably. Peter moves to the side to shield you on instinct when you squeak out a surprised noise. You push your chest against him to cover the slip of skin that struggles to be covered by the jacket, and let Peter guide you down the hall.
You lean in to whisper in his ear, "You owe me, Parker."
You get out onto the street when he says, "I'll show you how sorry I am when we get home."
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bruisedboys · 1 year
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also also!!!!!! peter x clumsy!reader might be the best pairing. because his spidey senses ugh he’s always catching you before you trip. like an arm around your back and then he dips you down to be dramatic and you get all flustered. and!!! if you’re not in arms reach he definitely shoots a web at you to pull you into his chest before you can do any damage. you both have several heart attacks a day because you’re such a klutz.
I am always on the peter x clumsy reader agenda!! they are so special to me!!! also the thing you said about him catching you and dipping you down omg I could die.
fem!reader 0.7k words
You’re still in the process of patching yourself up when Peter gets home, your knees scraped and a box of big Band-Aids waiting for you on the coffee table. You were hoping to be done by the time he got home, to save him the worry. No such luck. You hear the front door open and you don’t have time to hide your fresh wounds, your evidence of yet another accident.
You’re sure you look quite pathetic when Peter emerges in the doorway.
“Hi, dove! I missed— are you bleeding?” His smile drops and so does his bag. He doesn’t bother taking his jacket off. He strides across the room and gets to his knees in front of you. His hands find your thighs, thumbs just shy of your fresh scrapes.
“Oh, honey,” he coos. He’s not shocked, at least. You think maybe it’s happened so many times it doesn’t phase him anyway more.
His eyebrows pinch together as he scowls at your poor knees, his hands squeezing your thighs. He gives your injuries a once over before lifting his head to look at you sadly. “What happened?”
You frown. “Tripped in the driveway,” you admit moodily. “I’m fine, really. Looks worse than it feels.”
Peter huffs morosely, “I wish I was there when it happened. Could’ve caught you, baby.”
You melt. You’re endeared by his care for you. You smile at him and reach out to push his hair from his forehead, his curls soft under your fingers. You drag your hand down the side of his head, fingers heavy, and let your palm rest over his cheek. Peter’s eyelids flutter under your touch.
“It’s okay, Pete,” you tell him brightly. “You can’t win ‘em all.”
Peter laughs, his smile blinding. “Thanks, babe.” He twists his head so he can kiss your palm, a warm press of his soft, wind-bitten lips. “Let’s get you patched up now, hm?”
Peter patches up your knees, hands gentle as he cleans your wounds and presses Band-Aids over them. He’s a practiced hand, having done this plenty of times, on your legs, elbows, fingers, you name it. Though you must admit, you’re far less prone to accidents with Peter around. He catches you more times than he doesn’t. Today was just bad timing.
When Peter’s done fixing you up he lays a kiss on each of your knees, over your fresh white Band-Aids.
“All fixed,” he says happily, sliding his hand up your thigh to give your hip a squeeze.
You beam and cover his hands with yours. “Thanks, Peter.”
Peter stands and pulls you up with him. Your knees sting, but only a little, and it’s nothing you’re not used to.
“You sure you’re okay?” He asks, head ducked so he can meet your eyes, his hair tumbling into the space between your heads. “I can get you some ice, if you like?”
You shake your head. You’d much rather have him stay this close forever. “I’m okay, Pete.”
Peter still looks unconvinced, a frown tugging at his lips. He thinks for a second, then, “Do you want a hug? ‘Cos I know I do.”
You giggle. You’d kill for a hug right now. “Sure.”
You push your arms under his and he circles you in his strong hold, pulling you as close as he can to his chest. He’s careful to avoid your knees bumping his, legs moving so yours are between his. You push your face into his firm chest and breathe him in, his smells, his cologne and the wind on his clothes and that lovely scent he carries around with him everywhere, like old books and coffee shops.
Peter’s face falls into your neck and he sighs, practically melting into you, latching onto you like glue. He’s warm and he’s soft and he’s Peter. The pain in your knees is completely unnoticeable when he’s holding you like this.
“My poor, clumsy girl,” he says eventually, mostly fond, but there’s a whisper of cheek that you don’t miss.
You scowl into his chest. “M’not clumsy,” you whine, though you definitely are and you both know it. “The pavement is uneven.”
Peter pulls back, his big hands on your upper arms. He’s smiling like an idiot. “It is?”
You nod fervently. “Yeah. S’why I tripped.”
Peter nods slowly like you’re telling the truth, like the pavement in the driveway isn’t perfectly even.
“Stupid pavement,” he says.
You giggle and hide your face in his chest again.
-
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lotus-n-l0ve · 10 months
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𝐅𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐄𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐎𝐟 𝐀 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐳𝐞𝐞
— Peter Parker x Stark!Female Reader
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☯ SYNOPSIS : When Peter's girlfriend pays him a little visit in Midtown High School and meets his long time bully, Flash Thompson.
☯ WARNINGS : Au, stark!reader, Peter is barely present in the fic, cursing.
☯ NOTE FROM LOTUS : Hey guys. I have been having such a bad writer's block that I couldn't write anything for past few weeks. I'm writing this to, hopefully, get over my writer's block.
𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 || 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐋 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
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The red Saleen S7 car, parked outside of Midtown High School, gaining curious glances from the students and passersby. You wait, sitting on the driver's seat, with your phone in your hand. The past week you were out of the country with your father so you had not seen him for the past seven days and barely got to talk to him.
So when you came back today, you wanted to give him a surprise visit. You came here, all confident, but now you were doubting your choices. Maybe you should just wait till school ends?
Fuck it. You are Y/N Stark, girl. Since when do you get nervous?
You checked yourself last time in the back mirror. Perfect as always. You throw yourself a flying kiss and put on your favourite pair of glasses. The car door opens with a click and you get down. It was not long before you were walking down the halls of Midtown High, making everyone stop what they were doing and gawk at you.
You chuckle in your mind. Of course you loved being the centre of attention. You were Tony Stark's daughter after all. Now there's one problem. You don't know exactly where Peter is. You look around the hall before your eyes fall on a boy, sitting with two girl on each side.
Without any second thoughts, you walk up to him, "Hey, do you know where Peter Parker is?"
Flash tore his eyes from the beautiful girls in his arm to the legs standing in front of him. He raised his eyes to your face. His gaze so disgusting that made you want to throw up.
"Talking to me, angel?" Flash stood up, abandoning the girls.
You roll your eyes at his pathetic attempt of flirting. At least he got the angel part right.
"I asked if you know where Peter Parker is." You deadpan.
"Peter Parker? Oh! You mean penis Parker. What do you need with him? I'm sure I can help you way more than he can." Flash wiggled his eyebrows at you, giving you a suggestive look.
You just stared at him, completely unimpressed and now angered. This pathetic flirt has the audacity to call your baby penis— wait a damn minute. Penis Parker? Something clicked in your mind.
"Are you Flash Thompson?" You ask before you could stop yourself.
Surprise flashed on his face before a smug smirk appeared on his face.
"Wow! I know that I'm famous but not much. Damn!" He said, running a hand through his hair.
You giggle at his ignorance as you take off your glasses. Folding it and keeping it safely in your hand bag, you step towards him, closing the distance between you two.
"Listen here you little shit." The smirk on his fell at your words, "If I ever hear from Peter that even got anywhere near him, I'll kidnap you, shave off your head, leave you on a deserted island and post your disgusting nudes all over the internet."
"Wh—"
"Shut up and listen." Flash gulped with fear, his face covered in sweat. The menacing aura around you looked scarier than the monster under his bed.
You say while jabbing on his forehead with your pointer finger, "Don't think of him, don't look at him, don't walk on his direction, don't breathe on his direction. Don't go anywhere around my boyfriend. Got it, you failed experiment of a chimpanzee?"
"Y-yes, I....um, I-I..... I under-understand." He nodded his head vigorously. Anything to get away from you.
"Good." You back away, giving him space to finally breathe in relief. Fuck! He didn't know Peter's girlfriend was this scary.
"Y/N?" The familiar voice of your boyfriend called from behind and your demeanour changed like lizards change colours.
"Hey, Pete." You walk up, giving him a quick kiss, "let's go, you are skipping class today. I missed you."
You linked your arm with him and started dragging him out of the school. Peter complied with you because he did miss you a lot too and skipping one day was not going to do any harm on him.
"I missed you a lot." Peter smiled down at you.
You left the school, leaving behind a embarrassed Flash. After you two left did Flash realised the crowd of students circling around him in the hallway. And they were chuckling while looking down at his pants?
Flash looked, "FUCK!"
His blue jeans were now dark blue, water spread on the floor around him. He had peed in his pants. His face turned red with anger and embarrassment. He should not have fucked with Peter.
FUCK!
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© 𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐔𝐒-𝐍-𝐋𝟎𝐕𝐄 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑, 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃 — all content rights belongs to LOTUS-N-L0VE. do not plagiarize any works and do not repost or translate onto any other sites.
All the rights and credits of the characters, gifs, songs and pictures used here belongs to their rightful owners.
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 1 year
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can you make a peter parker smut where he gets a 89% on his math final and he needs to js take it out on the reader 🤩🤩
A/N: ops, I finished writing this before the clock even struck 6 in the morning... idk how to explain, I have the circadian rhythm of an 80-year-old tbh.
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
masterlist | join my taglist 
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“Not that I’m complaining,” you panted, lazily running your fingers along the dewy spine of the man sprawled out on top of you, “but what was all of that? Where did it come from?”
Shifting his face on the swell of your tits, parting the heat of your bosom from his cheek, he glanced up at you with weary eyes and reluctantly uttered, “I got a 89% on my math final…”
“89?” you cocked a brow, not taking into account who it was you were talking to, “but that’s such a good grade.”
“Yeah, but not for me and especially not in math,” you detected the heated tears threatening to come to fruition, “I’ve never gotten below a 92, period, but that’s usually in things that I suck at, not math, never math,” his hold on you tightened as he lowered his head back down, staring intensely at the chipped spot on the wall beside your bed. 
Eyes locked on the crown of his head, you helplessly uttered just above a whisper, “I’m sorry Peter. I’m really sorry,” feeling your naked body being to tremble beneath his in empathy, “fuck… I don’t know what to do to make you feel better…”
Feeling the spent hardness, that never quite disappeared, press against your inner thigh with a cautious grind of his hips, he peeked up at you once more and suggested, “round two?” actually withdrawing a faint giggle within you from the heart-breaking smirk on his lips, “just let me fuck you till I forget, even if it just slips away for a second, please, let me have this, let me have you…”
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© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 
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Text
PREACHERS DAUGHTER- P.B PARKER
Pairing: Best Friend! Peter x Fem! Reader
Word Count: 3.4k
Summary: you and peter were complete opposites, you the goodie two shoes preachers daughter, him the bad boy next door. yet fate has pulled the two of you together, and you can’t help but feel a certain lust for him.
Warnings: ORAL (fem), teasing, kissing, marking, pet names, best friends falling in luvvv, swearing, weed involved, booze mentioned, praise kink, masturabtion mentioned, lotsss of dirty talk, peter blowing smoke into reader mouth
based of the album- preachers daughter, by ethel cain
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It was mesmerizing- the way his fingers moved. 
You felt as if you were under a trance, the watch on the chain swinging back in forth in front of your eyes, hypnotizing you. 
His rings, silver and shining in the pale moonlight the clock hands, the veins that ran up his wrists acted as the numbers that blurred together after some time. 
Each component drew you in as his fingers strummed each string, moving up and down the fingerboard to play each chord, a sweet melody emerging from the instrument. 
Your mind was far, far off from the homework you swore to yourself you would be doing tonight, despite having your best friend over. You knew you couldn't focus on anything but him, yet you let him slip through your window, with the cracked and peeling paint you refused to paint over- because you and Peter were the reason for its damage. 
You refused to change anything he had touched or wrecked, whether that be the broken dresser handle that was hanging on for dear life, or the jumble of photos the two of you had pasted on your walls while drunk out of your minds.
 They looked awful, all crooked and cluttered to fuck, but you didn’t touch them. 
Refused to. If Peter placed them there, that's where they stayed. 
You looked up at them now, gaze focusing on the smiling faces that stared back at you, that watched over your every move- in a comforting sense. Their presence lingered, as you peered back over to Peter, following the sound of strum from the strings, the sound coming to a screeching halt as he suddenly fished for something in his ripped jean pocket. 
He was so beautiful when he was concentrated. 
The subtlety bite of his lip, pearly whites tugging on the flesh with a sense of urgency as his jaw would clench. The way his messy, slightly ruffled russet hair would fall in front of his eyes, rings glimmering as he slid his hand through the locks to push it back into place. 
You wanted to run your fingers through his hair, wanted to tug on them to make him hiss in pleasure, the way he did the one night he had decided to use your thighs as a pillow. Peter's reaction was tenuous, a slight growl escaping from the cage of his clenched teeth.
 You noticed, though. You always noticed, when it came to him. 
“Bunny? You want one?” he asked softly, pre-rolled in blunt twirling between his large fingers, making you stare in awe. 
“Bun?” 
Oh shit, you were staring. 
“N-no Pete it’s okay. I’m good for now.” you smiled, a heat rising to your cheeks as you forced yourself to stare back down at your tattered notebook filled with scribbles and numbers you had no clue what to do with.
 It was better than looking at his fingers and getting caught again. 
Anything was. 
“Alright pretty but you let me know if you want one okay? Your asshole of a father won't find out, if that's what you're worried about.” he chuckled softly, throwing you a wink as he toyed with the drug, a cat with its dinner.
 Of course that's what you were worried about. You were the minister's daughter, a holy saint if there ever was one. The good girl, your father's little angel. 
We have a reputation to uphold Y/L/N. Don't mess it up, or there'll be consequences. Big ones. 
You had followed his words as he did with passages in that dog-eared bible of his, the rosemary beads sprawled out as a bookmark for his pages. 
So, how in the world did Peter Parker- the boy wrapped in sin your father warned you about, end up as your best friend, the man you trusted with your life? You didn't know, but you were thankful for it. 
It made you laugh every time Peter offered you a smoke, he knew your answer had never changed, yet he always offered anyways. He was sweet that way. It was different with weed, you supposed. 
You were always terrified your father would be able to see right through you, be able to sniff the drugs on you like a hound dog. You made excuses for booze. 
Your father provided red wine during Sunday services, the blood of the lord for all to taste, cannibalism in its cleanest, purest form. Counting on two hands the number of times you and Peter had snuck into the old, gothic church your father managed, getting drunk off the wine in the wooden pews under the stained glass windows was impossible. 
You watched as Peter leaned his guitar against the windowsill, grabbing a lighter from his other pocket, the snake tattoos curled and wrapped along his finger seeming to hiss at you in the dim light of your room. 
“Peter?” you called, making his head snap up, the fire from his light diminishing as fast as it came. “C-can I light it for you?” you asked shyly, watching as that boyish grin that you loved so much came to his face, dimples appearing as he took you in, realizing you were serious. 
“You wanna be an angel and help me out eh?” he teased, making you nod frantically. 
Angel. 
The words alone had your toes curling in your thigh-high socks you knew Peter adored, his fingers always seeming to toy with the little black bows whenever he got the chance. He towered over you even more than he already did as he stood, making his way over to where your body was lounging on the ruffled white sheets. 
“Dad’s not home ya know. I forgot about that.” you tugged on your inner cheek, watching as Peter dropped to his knees before you, like a devil about to spread its wings. 
Begging for mercy before you. 
“Does that mean you do wanna hit then?” he asked, blunt between his teeth as your thumb flicked the flame to life, watching the blues and oranges crackle as you lit his joint. 
“Don’t know how.” you shrugged, watching as he exhaled, the sweet sickly smell of weed filling your senses as he exhaled.
 “We can try something if you want bunny. D’trust me?” You nodded, eager to obey his commands. He smiled, rings cold against your chin as he grabbed it lightly, the pads of his fingers slightly calloused from the strings. 
“Say ahh bunny.” You opened your mouth widely, the smoke he had inhaled floating into your mouth as he exhaled, fogging up your lungs. He was so close you could hear the thud of his heartbeat, could feel the soft heat rolling off him in waves to soothe you in a gentle embrace. 
“Atta girl!” he laughed as you felt the sticky taste coat the back of your throat, mouth turning dry as the Saraha.
 “Peter this tastes like shit.” you groaned, coughing and sputtering as he gently slapped your arm. “No swearing. Or else I’ll wash your mouth out with soap.” he teased, making you burst out in laughter as he rolled onto the bed, smooshing your lower half with his bodyweight- making you groan as his head lolled. 
You felt your skin warm to the touch with how close he was to you, your legs parted slightly so he could wedge his way between them and rest on you. 
“I gotta do my homework silly.” you smiled as he took another puff, his eyes turning a fair shade of red as he watched the smoke slither upwards.
 “I can be your study buddy if ya want.” 
“I’d get no work done if you were my study buddy. You distract me too much.” you teased, giggling as his hand reached over to tickle your thigh gently. “We’d make such a great team. We could be on the mathletes together bunny.” 
You rolled your eyes at his sly commentary, a hand slipping through the soft, messy tumbles of his hair as he sighed in happiness. Nails began to scratch his scalp soothingly, and his chest began to rumble- purring like a cat as you tended to him. 
Just as you wanted. 
The curtains rustled in the breeze that snaked through the cracked window goosebumps appearing on your bare skin as the papes blew. You looked out through the glass, scoping out the graves that surrounded your house. 
You could map out the entire cemetery as you had lived in this old, creaking house your entire life- could picture every little twisted path and old rusting benches that were scattered. It was peaceful here, the only real company consisted of the ghosts and Peter when he came over to visit. 
Your father was never really present, too busy with the works of the church than his own flesh and blood.
 It was an easy silence between the two of you, one you enjoyed immensely. It was different than the other silences you had dealt with in your lifetime- long and uncomfortable. With Peter, they were pleasant and easy, a place where you could be in your own thoughts and not feel bad about it. 
You were lost in them now, as you looked down at him. 
He’s never looked so beautiful. How did I get so lucky- to score him as my best friend? 
Continuing your head scratches, you let your head lull against the headboard, closing your eyes to tune out the world. He continued to smoke, hand resting on your thigh with each inhale. 
“You got somewhere I can put this angel?” he asked, hand waving as he gestured to the stump of the blunt, the weed diminishing. You hadn't realized how much time had passed, the hands on the clock hoping forward since the last time you had looked over at them. 
“Over there is fine.” you pointed to the little dish on the dresser you had left for him whenever he was over, degrading it whenever your father returned home. 
You didn't comment on how much Peter had smoked, just as you didn't comment on how much whisky your father drank whenever he got mad. 
You didn't care enough. 
He shuffled up, puffing the remainder towards you, the smoke cascading around your cheeks, tickling your eyelashes as the old bed creaked. 
“You’re such a doll, you know that?” You smiled. 
“Maybe. It's not like you tell me allll the time or anything.” you teased, poking fun at how sweet he was to you. No one was as ever kind to you as Peter was. It made your insides tingle, made your skin all sensitive to the touch. 
He smiled that cheeky grin that drove you wild, tapping the ash into the dish before he crushed it with his fingers, rings glittering in the soft candlelight. Your homework was long forgotten at this point, your attention solely focused on the beautiful angel of a man that stood before you at the foot of your bed. 
“Hi.” you waved to him, his hand raising to wave back from across the room. 
“Hi bunny.”
 “Cmere.” you insisted, and he smirked as he crawled onto the bed, the look in his eye hungry as he took you in. You looked at him now, really looked at him as his strong arms slid to each side of you, caging you in his hold. 
He was black and blue, the beautiful melancholy shades in between. The way he loved was different than anything you had experienced before. It was scary, a freefall into the depths of the icy water you were scared to tread. But it was numbing- the way he cared. 
A soft and sweet energy, that pricked you gently like pins and needles. His breath was warm as he refused to break eye contact and you wanted to shrink into the depths of the mattress as you felt yourself cave. 
“I bet you taste so good.” he confessed softly, his words making you shudder with delight. 
You knew where this was going. It was heading down the old beaten path the two of you had stumbled down so many times, when you were both drunk off sin in the walls of the church. 
You liked it. 
“Yeah?”
 “Yeah angel. Mmm god I think about tasting you all the time, your skin, your lips, your fingertips..” he trailed off, head dropping down to your chest, rubbing his nose against the skin of your collarbone. 
You felt your hips wriggle, wetness seeping into your panties. “What do you think they taste like?” you sighed as his teeth gently grazed you, biting into your flesh to mark it as his own. 
“Like cinnamon n sugar. So. Fuckin. Sweet.” he kissed your neck between each word as you gigged softly, his plump lips making you squirm. 
“You’re so addicting baby. The things I wanna do to you…” he smirked, licking a stipe where your silky nightgown dipped, revealing the slight curve of your breasts. 
Heels were dug into the ruffled sheets, the sound of your books falling to the hardwood below echoed as the strong breeze brushed you again. No amount of wind could chill the fire that was burning in your veins right now. 
“But we can’t do them. Cause we’re best friends.” you pouted, running your fingers along the back of his neck, curving them around to trace each vein that pulsed as he shivered. 
“Who says?” he whispered, like he was in a trance, and you felt your dress being pushed up, up, up to pool around your waist, your stomach exposed as his head dipped down towards it. 
“Best friends do everything together bunny. Don't you think about me like I think about you?” he asked mischievously and you nodded frantically.
 “Mmm sometimes.”
 “Cause I think about you alll the time. Think about how good you’d be for me when I’m strokin my dick.” he confessed, shuffling down to trail kisses across your stomach, your legs spreading wider as he found his home between them. 
“Y-yeah?” you whimpered, heart beating so fast you heard the blood racing in your ears, his voice sounding distant. It was hard to focus, but at the same time it was hard to focus on anything but him. 
The human body was a funny thing, sometimes. How yours could bend and contract to his will at the whisper of his voice, at the touch of his skin.
 “Mmm yeah. You make me wanna do such bad bad things. But you’re too sweet for that.” 
Oh god. Oh god, oh god, oh god. 
“Peter-” 
“Can I tase you? Please? Just a lil lick, I swear.” 
You moaned at his words alone. How did they sound so sweet, so innocent when there was so much filth behind them? You could never say no to him.
 Never. 
“Please.” you urged, the chill breeze making you tremble as he removed your thong, your knees bent slightly over his shoulders. It happened in a blur, time seeming to jump and snap back again as he had you under his thumb, hanging onto every word he said. 
The first lick sent you into overdrive, body shifting up gears as you crude out his name- hands tugging at his strands of hair as if they were reins. The faint scent of weed trickled through your nose, blemishing your skin and sweat as it trickled. 
You couldn't think. Couldn't move, couldn't speak. 
You and Peter had fooled around before but this…this was new territory. And it felt good. A lick turned into a taste as you heard him growl, tongue stroking through your sensitive folds again. 
“You- you said just a taste-” you panted out, hips thrusting against him as he chuckled.
 “I lied. You should've known.” he teased, eyes meeting yours again- stare so intense you had to look away. 
It was frightening- the eye contact. It was an endless void, a freefall you weren't sure if you'd have a hand to catch you. It was filled with an emotion you couldn’t quite place, a haziness that made you feel sluggish, like you had drank too much cheap booze, and smoked too many cigarettes. 
You were as breathless as the summer's night outside as he dived back in, malnourished and needy as he devoured you. His lips suctioned around your clit, sucking it sweetly as you wethered and moaned. 
“So so sweet…” he murmured. You felt yourself snap under him as his tongue pushed you over the edge, releasing onto his face as you cried out. His hands tightened their grip around the barricade of your thighs, chin gleaming with your juices as your body shuddered from the aftershocks. 
“That's a girl. My sweet sweet angel.” he sang out, shuffling up to kiss your lips gently, the taste of yourself staining your mouth. You savored his affections, wrapping your arms around his neck, desperate for something to cling to. 
You were scared to let him go, scared he would leave you vulnerable and open like all the others. He sensed your hesitation, rolling over to the side of you, nuzzling his head into your neck as you continued to hold him close. 
“Was I good?” you asked meekly, your biggest fear not being enough for him. 
He just smiled. 
“More than good. The best.” he whispered, kissing your skin. You exhaled a sigh of relief, tension seeping from your bones as you cradled him. 
You heard an owl coo out from the branches of the old oak tree that scratched your house, the wind howling against the old siding. You basked in the emptiness of the room, no one here but the two of you and the peeling posters that peered down at you from the walls.
 He wasn't leaving you. He wasn't embarrassed or ashamed and he was staying with you. He wanted to do this. 
It was hard to think about, hard to wrap your head around it as you had been so shameful of your desires towards him for so long. The old wooden cross that was hung above your bed seemed almost mocking as it reflected in your vanity mirror, a symbol of overcoming sin now with a meaning diminished. 
“You awake?” you asked Peter softly, ripping your eyes from the wood, knowing your father's words would haunt you the longer you were left to your own avail.
 There were so many responses you wanted to spew out to him. 
God loves you- but not enough to save you. 
But you didn’t, to save yourself the abuse of his wrath. 
“Mmm.” he mumbled sleepy, the weed putting him a place of serenity and calm as he synced his breathing with yours. “Did you want me to return the favor?” you mumbled, feeling bad he didn't get the same opportunity you did. 
He just shook his head. “Another time angel. Let me just… lie with you. I like when I just get to be with you like this.” he yawned, bed creaking as he slung his arm around your waist to pull you closer.
 “Okay. Whatever you want.” 
Silence. 
You sighed, flexing your feet, then pointing your toes. The red polish glimmered as the shadows of the wax dripping off the candles bounced off the walls, the smell of the incessant to “hide” the weed smelling of sandalwood. 
A truck rumbled in the distance, its tires rolling against the gravel. Peter sat up, eyes flickering to the headlights that beamed towards the house, making you feel anxious as you clung to the bedsheet. 
Was your father home early? He wasn't supposed to be home until tomorrow night, and you knew if he walked in on you and Peter- you’d never hear the end of it. 
“Is he home?” Peter shook his head as he moved towards the window, and you readjusted your nightgown. His hair was messy and rumpled as he stood, hands resting on the windowsill as he peered down.
 A grin was on his face as he turned back to face you, your heartbeat slowing its dangerous pace with an exhale. 
He wasn't home. Or else Peter wouldn't be smiling. 
“Well? Who the hell is at my house at-” Your eyes flickered back to the clock. “Eleven at night?” 
Peter just shrugged, a cheeky look on his face as he walked towards the bedroom door, grip on the brass handle tightening as he swung it wide open. 
You heard the front door open, two familiar voices echoing from down the hallway. 
Bucky and Steve. 
“Look who decided to pay us a visit!” Peter laughed, making you shake your head with a smile. 
Look who decided to visit indeed. 
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night-daily · 10 months
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Jealousy jealousy | Peter Parker x fem! reader
Summary: 3 times where Peter hears you fangirling over Spiderman and one time he finally explodes.
warnings: none.
a/n: enjoy and let me know if there's any mistakes please!:)
The first time, he overheard you talking to your friends, was an accident, he didn't on purpose it just happens every time he sees you, he has no control over his senses. And he doesn't realize he's eavesdropping until you say something that brings him back to reality.
“... I think he's hot.” whoa, were you talking about him? Nice. “I mean, have you seen how athletic he is?” fuck, it wasn't him. Yeah, he participates in P.E class but he has to pretend he isn't good at it so you or anyone else wouldn't get suspicious. So it couldn't be him.
Peter turned his face away from you, feeling insecure. You were dumping him? Who was this guy?
“Hey, what are we talking about?” One of your friends came to the table you and your friends were eating.
And of course, Peter needed to hear the name of the guy.
''I'm masochistic?''
“Spider man!” You exclaimed with a smirk on your face making your friends groan. His heart stopped for a second. “Again?” Your friend rolled playfully her eyes to you. And you nodded with your head cheerily.
Peter felt his body relax at your words. So you like Spider man uh? Only if you knew Spider man likes you too.
The second time, the two of you are in his room, he sitting at his desk doing homework while you are doing yours in his bed. Well, you got bored doing the homework so now you were just rambling stuff about your classes, your friends, and...
“Hey, have you heard about Spider man?” Peter's body froze. “You know, the Superhero.” He hums in agreement, incapable to make a comment. “I heard some people show up at the crime scenes just to watch him in action.” And Peter dislike that people, they could get hurt and they didn't even care, and for what? just to watch him? “Yeah, that's crazy.” He expected you to agree with him, but you were quiet. “That's crazy, right?” He turns his chair to look at you, but you were avoiding his eyes. “... I don't know, to be honest, I would like to watch him in person too, even a glimpse of him.” Now he was seeing red. Why would you do that? Why would you put your life in danger for someone who you don't even know? Why would you do that for Spider man?
He couldn't help but feel a hole in his chest, it was a heavy and ugly feeling, he had never felt something like that. Jealousy. “What’s so good about him, anyway?” Peter muttered, turning himself, and ignoring the smile that crept across your face.
The third time, you were getting ready to hang out with your friends at the new coffee shop, doing your makeup you saw Peter through the mirror leaning against the doorframe of your room.
“Take a picture, it'll last longer.” your teasing smile sent butterflies to his stomach. “Why would I want a picture? If I have you all for myself.” He came closer to you from behind your back, placing kisses on your naked shoulder. “Oh, you're lucky that I haven't met Spider man then.” He stopped kissing your shoulder “Please, go with him if you like him so much” You turned your face to him. “I'm kidding Pete, I already have you and I love you so much.” You squeezed his hand. “Also, I'm pretty sure he wouldn't notice me, I bet he dates models”
He didn't know why he was more upset, you doubting how beautiful you are or assuming that Spider man wouldn't notice you. But you were wrong in both assumptions.
“You are the fucking prettiest girl I've ever met and anyone would be so lucky to share the same oxygen you breathe because I know I am.” And he smashed your lips, it was a passive-aggressive kiss. “I'm lucky too.”
And the one time he finally explodes, Peter was resting in his bed after a long night patrol when you crossed the door excitedly.
“PETER YOU'RE NOT GOING TO BELIEVE WHAT HAPPENED LAST NIGHT” Oh, sure he did. “What happened, love?” He played fool. “So, remember when you dropped me at the corner of the street? Well, guess what!?” You made it a short pause not giving him the chance to respond “SPIDER MAN WAS THERE TOO” He gasped. “No way!” You grabbed your phone and unlocked it “AND HE GAVE ME FLOWERS. NOT JUST THAT, TULIPS, MY FAVORITES” You showed him the photos of you and your tulips, you looked so happy and that makes him happy too. “He shouldn’t go after other people’s girlfriends” He half-joked. You laughed “Maybe after all you have a rival” He wasn't smiling anymore “I mean, who gifts tulips to a complete stranger? Maybe he likes me? OH MY GOD, SPIDER MAN LIKES ME! WOULD YOU IMAGINE US TOGE-” “Babe, I'm Spider man!” Peter cuts you off. He couldn't stand anymore hear you falling for Spider man. But how would you react? Would you hate him for keeping it secret?
“I knew it!” He was shocked “Wait, what?” you shrugged “Honey, you aren't that subtle.” Now, if you knew it, why you had never told anything to him? “I never told you anything because I kind of enjoy you being like this and I want to know how much you could take it before admitting you were jealous and you were Spider man.” Peter blushed “I never would have thought I’d ever be jealous about me.” You winked at him “Oh, jealousy looks good on you.”
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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.”
267 notes · View notes
luxbub · 3 months
Note
hii!!! i really love your stuff :)
i was wondering if i could request a lil something about how peter (parker ofc) would react to reader being self conscious about looks n being "pretty enough" for him? totally cool if it's not up your alley, i just really like the way you write him! thanks <3
peter parker’s beautiful gf
a/n ilyyy, you’re so sweet, fr kicking my feet rn. I really hope you like it even through my obv incapability of reassuring people. I’ve thought about a more spicy outcome of this blurb so if you’re up to it just tell me and i’ll post it<3
pt.2 (nsfw)
“What are you doing?”
Shit.
You were looking at yourself in the mirror, half-naked in peter’s room. The only clothing you seemed to have on was your underwear and a too-big for you t-shirt with some math pun on it—probably peter’s— that reached to your mid-thigh.
“Um, nothing, i was just getting dressed.” You say softly, with a small smile gracing your face and yet that’s enough to convince peter that there’s something off.
Instead of trying to make you talk which would take hours of you going back and forth, he came up from behind you, his long fingers grabbing at your waist and gently massaging the flesh there, as he leaned his head on your shoulder. His back a little hunched from the height difference, but he seemed not to pay attention to it, giving all his attention to you.
“Do you think i’m pretty?”
Silence rung out in the room, as now you were both looking at your reflection in the mirror—more like your reflection. You were starting to get nervous, as peter kept on staring strictly at you from the mirror.
You had no make up and your hair was a mess, why wouldn’t you be nervous? You rarely let people see you without any of those things in check, so the little sleepovers you had with peter still caused anxious butterflies to flutter in your stomach.
“You are so beautiful.” Peter murmured, into the skin just below your ear. He slowly started trailing kisses on your neck, every few seconds words like “my perfect girl” or “pretty girl” spewing from his lips.
Soon he had littered your whole neck and face with kisses, when he turned you around.
“You are the most beautiful girl, you know that?” Peter asked raising an eyebrow. You faces were a few inches away and his breath was fanning your face as your eyes started stinging.
“You’re even way out of my league, you have no idea how many times a day i wonder how am i so lucky? To have the most beautiful and breathtaking and funny and smart—and god, i can go on for hours, but having you in my arms, loving you is the best thing that can ever happen to me. Each time i see you, sweetheart, i can still feel the rapid beat of my heart or the way my breath hitches, just from the sight of you. Each morning that i wake up with you by my side, and you’re still asleep, i’m given the gift of just staring at you for hours till you wake up and smile with that cute smile of yours. Every day that i see you, my day is made. I could stare and stare and stare for hours and still wouldn’t be able to find ugliness on your face nor your body. Cause you’re all beautiful, baby—from the inside out.”
Stunned, once again the room was engulfed by silence, as tears were now freely falling down your face. Peter was sweet, all the time; complimenting you, touching you, comforting you.
But this was different; this was peter confessing, his love, his adorance.
Looking at your tear-stained face, peter took a hold of your cheek in one hand; wiping away the wetness, softly murmuring “you’re my beautiful girl”.
not proofread!
222 notes · View notes
forever-rogue · 1 year
Note
taking peter to ice skating!! imagine the reader used to take lessons before and wants to bring him to the skating rink to try it out, and he thinks he would wing it bc of his Spidey reflexes but it's the opposite 😭
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AN |  Man, this turned into a whole thing but it’s soft!❤️
Pairing | tasm!Peter Parker x Fem!Reader
Warnings | Language
Word Count | 3.8k
Masterlist | Main | Peter
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“Wow,” you hadn’t realized that you’d stopped walking until Peter almost crashed into you. You were too enamored with watching the lightly falling snow, a layer of which was already glittering on the ground. The entire park looked like a magical winter wonderland and you were almost positive that you’d never seen anything more beautiful - well besides maybe the boy that was curiously looking at you, “it’s beautiful.”
“What?” he asked softly as he followed your line of sight, a smile on his face as he watched you. There were soft snowflakes coating your hair and he wanted nothing more than to brush them away, “the snow?”
“Mhmm,” you nodded  before looking back at him, “I’ve never seen snow before.”
“Really?” his eyebrows raised in surprise, causing you to nod sheepishly.
“We didn’t have snow in California. At least not where I’m from,” you reminded him. You’d only moved to New York a few months ago, and Peter had become your neighbor and closest friend. And crush…but he didn’t need to know that now or ever. Instead you smiled softly and found yourself looking away from his soft eyes, “this is all new to me.”
“Well, I’m honored to spend your first New York Winter with you,” you felt his hand brush against yours, which sent a pleasant shiver up your spine. You wanted nothing more than to have him take your hand in his, “I’ll make sure you experience only the finest things, m’lady.”
You laughed at the silly dork, shaking your head in amusement. You really liked him and even if nothing happened between the two of you besides friendship, you would be happy with that too, “thanks, Pete. I hope you know you’re not obligated to spend time with me.”
“I know,” his smile was too pretty as he slowly pulled his scarf off and moved to wrap it around your neck. You froze at the intimate gesture, trying not to panic at the feeling of the warm fabric around your neck, and the fact that his smell was overwhelming in all the best ways, “I happen to love spending time with you. You are my friend in case you haven’t realized.”
“I love spending time with you too,” you promised softly, your voice almost inaudible and if Peter hadn’t had his enhanced senses, he might not have heard it. But he also heard the way your heart rate picked up, “I’m very lucky that of all the places I could have moved into, I moved across the hall from you.”
“That goes both ways,” the two of you looked at each with sweet, shy smiles before you looked away and cleared your throat. There were so many moments when you wished you were just a bit braver, just had a moment of brilliant confidence and found it within yourself to tell him how you felt. But you also didn’t want to risk your friendship with him, that wasn’t worth it. Instead you scanned the area before finding a small coffee shop tucked away, “wanna go get a hot chocolate, Pete?”
“As long as there’s marshmallows and whipped cream,” his smile was a thing of ethereal beauty and you found yourself just staring at him with a lovesick little smile, “come on!”
He looped his arm through yours, not letting you say anything otherwise. Not that you would have complained. Never. Not with Peter Parker.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
You grew nervous as you knocked on his door, not even having texted to see if he was home. The little idea that had become a brilliant idea - at least in your mind - came over you all at once and you’d practically run over to him. After a few moments he slowly opened the door, a smile stretching across his face as he realized it was you. 
“Hi Peter,” your voice was soft enough that it made his knees weak. He opened the door a little further and your heart dropped into your stomach when you spotted the pretty girl sitting at the small kitchen table. Oh. He’d never mentioned a girlfriend before but you shouldn’t have been surprised - he was the total package after all. She had pretty auburn hair and bright eyes, and even offered you a small wave. She radiated kindness and you couldn’t find it in your heart to dislike her.
“Hey,” he looked between the two of you and pointed over his shoulder, “MJ and I were just about to order some pizza and watch a movie. Do you want to join us?”
“N-no,” you shook your head and took a step back. Did he really think you wanted to third-wheel? Ugh, “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I should have texted first, ‘m sorry. I’ll umm…see you around, I guess.”
“Wait,” he reached for your wrist but you were faster and managed to pull out of his touch, “what’s up? Did you need something?”
“No,” you shook your head, “nothing at all.”
You didn’t even give him the opportunity to say anything before you returned to your own apartment, softly closing the door behind you and locking it. You leaned against it for a moment, trying to keep from crying. It was stupid - you felt stupid. Peter was just a friend, and you knew that…but it didn’t prevent your heart from breaking. 
Peter remained in his doorway as he listened to you, your heartbeat erratic and he was positive that he heard your sniffles. He went back inside and let out a low groan before rubbing a tired hand over his face. 
Mary Jane Watson gave Peter a hard stare before shaking her head. He held up his hand, trying to keep her from saying anything as he sat down across from her. But he knew her better than that, and she knew he knew, “that was her?”
“Yeah,” he nodded before laying his head on the table and banging it lightly, “I fucked that up now.”
“She’s really pretty,” she confessed as Peter’s cheeks grew pink, “and she’s clearly into you too, Pete! How could you even question that? It’s so obvious - you really should just make your move and ask her out.”
“She looked more like she hated me.”
“That’s because she was upset.”
“Upset? Why?”
“She came here to talk to you and then saw me and suddenly decided that she no longer wanted to talk to you,” MJ explained as he tried to follow. He was a genius, a literal genius, but still so clueless when it came to dating and feelings, “she probably thought we’re dating and that you didn’t tell her you had a girlfriend when you’ve probably been acting all in love with her.”
“Oh. Oh?”
“Yes,” she insisted firmly, reaching across the table and putting her hand on top of his, “Pete, I love you, you know that. But you need to tell her, or you’re going to lose her. I’m not saying you have to tell her you’re Spider-Man, yet, but you have to tell her how you feel at the very least. I’ve seen how happy you’ve been since meeting her - don’t throw away something that could be amazing just because you’re nervous.”
“Yeah,” he swallowed thickly, knowing that she was right. He’d always loved MJ for how honest and pragmatic she was. They’d made a good couple, he had to admit, but they just weren’t the right ones for each other. He felt like he was starting to see why…he’d met you, “I-I’ll tell her. I have to.”
“Good,” she grinned, “now hurry up and order pizza, I’m starving.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
You were just about to go to bed when a knock came at your door. It was late and you definitely weren’t expecting any visitors, which caused you to grow worried. You went to the door and looked through the peephole, and almost groaned when you saw it was the girl from earlier. MJ he had called her.
You opened the door reluctantly and tried to muster up a smile, “hey - MJ, right?”
“Yeah,” she held out her hand as you shook and gave her your name, “look, this is probably not my place to say, but I just wanted to let you know that Pete and I are just friends. We dated for a bit when we were teenagers, but that was all. He’s…very special, which I’m sure you already know. He’s told me a lot about you-”
“He has?!”
“He has,” she promised, “and you sound just as wonderful too. He’s not always the best with….getting his feelings out there, but he really cares about you, just so you know. You’re very important to him.”
“Oh,” you worried your bottom lip between your teeth, your face warming up, “he’s….I like him too.”
“Good,” she smiled softly, a knowing little smile on her face, “I just wanted to make sure you knew. I know how it could seem…and if you ever want to grab a coffee or something just text me. It’s always nice to have a new friend.”
She passed you a post-it with her and number on it, and you gently took it from her. Alright, you liked her too. It really would have been impossible to like the redhead, “yeah. That would be really nice, MJ. I’ll text you.”
“Great!” she waved before taking a step towards the elevator. She wasn’t spending the night -  a good sign that they weren’t dating and she hadn’t lied. Not that you thought she would but still, you wanted to guard your heart as much as possible, “have a good night!”
“You too,” you waved as you closed the door after her. 
Maybe not all was lost just yet. Maybe there was hope after all.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Despite MJ's assurances that she and Peter weren't dating, you still avoided him for close to a week. You were embarrassed and didn't want to admit to him that you immediately jumped to conclusions and almost broke your own heart over nothing. Pathetic.
It had been tricky as the two of you worked the same hours, him at some fancy science lab and you at a law firm, and usually ran into each other at some point. But you'd left early and stayed a little late to avoid him. Absolutely childish. Almost as much as ignoring his texts and calls. You knew you couldn't - and wouldn't - avoid him forever but…yeah. You'd gotten into your own head.
But Peter had made up your mind for you. You'd been sitting in your office, staring at your computer screen but unable to concentrate. A knock came at your door, followed by the receptionist looking at you nervously.
"There's someone here to see you," she almost whispered, "a Peter Parker?"
"Oh," would it be too dramatic if you jumped out the window? A tenth floor fall wouldn't be too bad, right? Maybe Spider-Man would save you… "he's my friend. You can send him in."
A few tense moments passed before Peter was leaning against your doorframe, "hey."
"Hi Peter," you motioned for him to come, watching curiously as he closed the door and sat across the desk from you, "what's up?"
"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" He teased softly and you couldn't help but relax at the fact that he wasn't mad, "what's been up? You've been avoiding me."
Did he…sound hurt? You were almost positive that he did. You hated seeing a frown on his handsome face; you especially didn’t want to be the cause of it. Waving a hand nonchalantly, you tried to okay it off, "I haven't been….just busy…?"
"Are you asking me or telling me?" he raised an eyebrow as he watched you flounder. He could feel your heart beating fast as you shrugged, "did I do something?"
"No, no, no," you shook your head as you leaned forward, wanting to reach over and touch him, "its not you. Seriously. It was just…me."
"Are you alright?" you could see the concern in his pretty brown eyes as he tried to get a read on you, “everything’s okay?”
"Of course," you promised, "I didn't mean to worry you, Pete."
"Good," he visibly relaxed as you couldn't help but smile at the boy. He was so gentle, sweet with every word and gesture that made you feel like you were on a sugar high, "I was wondering…umm, are you free tonight?"
"Yeah…"
"Great," he almost bounced out of the chair with excitement, "can I pick you up at six?"
"What are we doing?"  your eyes grew wide, both with excitement and nervous anticipation. More importantly, you were glad to have him back in your life; you’d missed him more than you thought, “Pete?”
“Do you trust me?”
“I’m suddenly wondering if I should say no…”
“Say yes,” his smile was infectious and you couldn’t help but laugh at your favorite dork. Peter had missed your laugh so much. 
“Fine! Yes, Peter Parker, I trust you.”
“Great,” he jumped up in excitement, “it’s a date! I’ll see you tonight at six.”
“Tonight at six,” you wondered if he realized what he had just said as he quickly pressed a kiss to your cheek. He almost skipped out, giving you a small wave before he disappeared and you were staring after him. You touched your cheek where your skin had been blessed with his lips and sighed softly. 
He had to know what he was doing, right? He was a smart man, he had to know. You thought back to what MJ said and couldn’t help but wonder if it was all true. Maybe you’d find out later than night.
“Just a friend, huh?” you heard the little giggle from outside your office and groaned lightly, but there was still a big smile on your face.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Peter was knocking at your door at six on the dot and you couldn’t help but laugh as you walked to the door, opening it slowly. He was on the other side with a big smile on his face and a small bouquet of flowers in his hands. As soon as he saw you, he grew speechless, “hi Pete.”
“Hi,” he choked out after a few moments of staring at you in awe, holding out the flowers to you, “there are for you. Y-you look really pretty.”
“Thank you,” you took the flowers - a mixture of tulips and daisies - and gently clutched them to your chest. You looked him over before shyly admitting, “you look good too.”
“Flatterer,” he teased as you reached for his hand and pulled him inside. You went to the kitchen and quickly pulled out a vase, filling it with water, a splash of vinegar, and sugar. He watched you work in silence, trying to calm the wild beating of his heart. 
“So, Parker, what are we doing?” you turned to him and couldn’t quite place what he could be up to from his outfit. He was dressed normal, but still managed to look so good, “are you planning on kidnapping me? Is that what all this is about? You’re some kind of-”
“Alright, alright, overdramatic,” he snorted in amusement, “first things first - dinner. There’s a good Italian place nearby and I thought we could go there. Oh, shit, wait, I didn’t even ask if you like Italian but we can always do something else. Ugh, I didn’t even think to-”
“Relax Pete,” how was he supposed to relax when you’d put your hand on his arm like that, “I love Italian.”
“Oh good,” he let out a small sigh of relief, “the rest is still a surprise.”
“Alright,” you agreed as you reached for your scarf and pulled it on, “I’m ready if you are.”
“Ready!”
You’d had dinner with Peter on many occasions, but there was something about tonight that was just so different. But…not in a negative way. It felt right and like suddenly everything was falling into place.
When dinner was done, he took you to get ice cream because even though it was December, there was never a wrong time for ice cream. At least according to Peter. And you weren't inclined to disagree. 
But there was one more little thing he wanted to share with you. He reached for your hand and started pulling you in the direction of the park, causing you to laugh as you almost had to jog to keep up with him. He didn’t stop until you were standing in front of the giant skating rink that had been built in the middle of the park, magical and glittering under all the evening lights. 
“Pete?”
“I told you I was going to spend your first New York winter with you,” he explained as your eyes lit up with pure happiness, “and what’s more New York in the winter than ice skating?” he pointed to the rink behind you as you almost jumped into his arms.
“You’re perfect,” you couldn’t stop yourself before you realized what you had said, “I mean, umm…that’s perfect. I’d love to! I haven’t gone in years.”
“I haven’t gone ever,” he confessed as you looked at him with wide eyes. He was Spider-Man after all, not that you knew that just yet. He had superhuman reflexes and abilities, surely he could handle ice skating. How hard could it be? You couldn’t help but shake your head affectionately at the boy, "it's not rocket science - how hard could it be?"
"I mean…I'm willing to find out," you reached for his hand and threaded your fingers through his, causing both of your hearts to skip a beat. You felt so giddy and happy as you pulled him towards the rink, “come on then, show me what you’ve got!”
He wasted no time in following, 
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“Alright,” you had your skates on and stood up towards the entrance to step on the ice when you saw that Peter was taking a suspiciously long time to stand up and follow. You walked back towards him and held your hand out. He looked at it and huffed playfully as he took it and you helped him to his feet, “I’ve got you, Pete.”
“I know,” he promised softly as you walked onto ice and took a moment to get your balance. Once you did, you dropped his hand and skated a few feet away as you motioned for him to follow.
“Come on,” you motioned for him to follow and he reluctantly did so, wobbly and shaky on his feet as he tried his best to keep his balance. He did not like the feeling of being on the ice…to him it felt so unnatural…apparently spidey skills didn’t translate to ice skating, “you’ve got this, Pete!”
“I don’t think I do,” he groaned, already feeling himself slipping, but he leaned forward and eventually made it into your arms, almost taking you down with him. But somehow you managed to keep both of you stable and upright. His cheeks were tinged bright pink, but you were simply giggling at him, “sorry, sweetheart.”
“It’s okay,” you were to keep your cool at him giving you a sweet new nickname, “you didn’t knock us over so I’d say you were doing okay! Just take my hand and I’ll lead.”
“That sounds like a good idea,” you put your arms on his strong biceps and stabilized him before taking his hand again. His grip on yours was very tight but you enjoyed the feeling of his large, warm hand dwarfing yours. His touch was surprisingly soft.
You pushed off and pulled him along with you, moving at a space that was slow enough for him to keep up. After skating around the rink a few times, he slowly started to get his stride, just like the little genius he was. Before you knew it, you were talking to each other, over the soft holiday music that was playing, giggling and laughing. It was so easy to spend time with Peter; he was so kind and funny, and everything between the two of you felt right. You weren’t surprised that you’d slowly fallen in love with him.
Holy shit. The realization hit you like a ton of bricks and caused you to stop suddenly. Peter had been talking and didn’t see that you had stopped, knocking into you, and causing both of you to tumble onto the ice. You made a sound of surprise as Peter caught you, taking the brunt of the hit with you landing on top of him.
“Are you alright?’ you both asked at the same time, looking at each other with wide eyes.
“I’m alright,” you promised softly, aware of the closeness of your bodies. You couldn’t help but brush a few rogue strands of hair out of his face, “thank you for saving me.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” he keened into your touch as you let your hand rest on his cheek, “just doing my job, and keeping you safe. What happened though? You just stopped…”
“I…” how were you supposed to tell him that you came to the conclusion that you were in love with him? You faltered for a moment before shrugging innocently, “just zoned out, I guess. Sorry Pete.”
“Hey, no need to apologize - as long as you’re okay,” you nodded and the two of you looked at each other in reverent silence for a few moments. His honey brown eyes flicked to your lips for just a moment before he moved to sit up. This time it was his turn to brush your hair behind your ear, “can I kiss you?”
“Yes,” it was a soft response that had his heart almost hammering against his ribcage. No one had made him feel like this before, it all felt so new and foreign and overwhelming at the same time. He leaned in close, his nose brushing against yours before you felt him smiling against your lips. 
He finally leaned in and kissed you, softly and sweetly, almost as if he was afraid he might break you. When he pulled back he looked at you shyly and you simply reached for his scarf and pulled him back to your lips, stealing a few sweet kisses. 
Peter opened his mouth to say something, but you were quickly interrupted by an annoyed little voice, “can you guys move? You’re in the way and you’re being gross!”
You ducked your face and rested it on his shoulder before you both laughed. He gave the young girl a thumbs up, “we were just leaving. Sorry, kid.”
“Whatever old man,” she skated away as Peter playfully scoffed at her. 
“I’m not old,” he insisted as you looked at him in amusement, “I am not. Mid twenties is not old!”
“I know,” you kissed his cheek before slowly standing up and holding your hands out for him to take, “come on Pete.”
He took your hand and followed you off the ice and back onto the solid ground that wouldn’t cause him to slip and slide to his death. You looked at him with a small frown, not wanting the night to come to a close just yet, “hey, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing…I guess we should get home then…”
“Do you trust me?”
“Of course.”
“Then come on,” he quickly pulled off the skates and you followed suit, watching him with eager eyes, “the night is still young!”
“Where are we going?” he was already grabbing your hand again, “Pete?”
“It’s a surprise,” he winked, “but one more thing first.”
“What - oh,” and he was kissing you again, his hands gently holding your face as you almost melted into him.
“That,” he grinned as he pulled away, leaving you flushed and wildhearted, “come on, it’s adventure time!”
472 notes · View notes
astermath · 10 months
Note
uhmmmm
kitchen counter makeouts with pookie bear tasm peter <3
— @inkluvs (ivy)
the way you know damn well you are indulging me adjdkdk and I love you for it bae MWAH @inkluvs
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pairing: tasm!peter parker x fem!reader
tags: just sweet ol fluff, established relationship, first time writing for peter, normal sized text under the cut! <3
word count: 1.2.K
let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list for further peter parker related content!
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With Peter going on patrol until the nightly hours, you'd become used to cooking dinner later in the day. It wasn't a huge deal; you worked from home, and you were usually up when he was back anyways. Whether it was to tend to his injuries, hear about what he'd encountered that day, or just to cook some of his favorite pasta, you were always there for him when he returned. And he really appreciated that.
When you're a superhero, especially an anonymous one, it can be hard to find people to fall back on. That's why he considers having you one of his greatest strengths.
You're absentmindedly stirring some sauce when your boyfriend slips in through the bedroom window. He calls it the "spider-door", you call it a bad habit. He still uses it anyways. It's hard to use the front door of your apartment when you're dressed like the city's most popular vigilante.
He can smell the delicious mix of herbs and ingredients from the other room. The stress from the day was already melting off him, and he hadn't even spoken to you yet. He'd taken the liberty of slipping out of his suit and into a comfortable pair of sweats and a shirt. Although he did think it was snazzy, after wearing it almost the entire day, he couldn't wait to be out of it.
A pair of familiar strong arms wind around your waist, an even more familiar pair of lips pressing a soft kiss to the crook of your neck. You're used to it by now, the unexpected, sneaky greetings late at night. You weren't spooked by him, you rarely were. He likes to think his spidey senses have rubbed off on you.
He breathes in the scent of you, cheek resting onto your shoulder, and you can feel him relax into you.
"Good to see you too baby," you move your head to press a chaste kiss to his head, "how was patrol?"
"Fine," he sounds tired, and it's kind of hot, "stopped that coffee shop you like from being broken into."
"My hero," you chuckle, "now I won't have to miss those delicious chocolate croissants."
He whines lowly in response. It's a stark contrast to how he usually is, all talkative, giddy, boyish grins and jokes, bubbly laughter and strong hugs. Being a superhero will do that to you. Not exactly change you, just tire you out. A lot.
"Tired?" You ask, eyes remaining on the sauce you were preparing. It was a dumb question, of course he's tired, but he always hated admitting it.
To your surprise, he doesn't respond. Instead, he leans down and starts pressing kisses to your neck and shoulder again. You silently thank your past self for wearing a tank top, so he had plenty of access to your skin.
His lips leave tingles in their wake, your sauce becoming less interesting by the second, until you eventually turn around. You sigh at the sound of him; his hair is messy, his eyebags are prominent and he definitely needs a shower, but boy is he pretty. So pretty.
He lets you take a second to admire him, like he knows you love to do. Hands come up to cup his cheeks, the tiniest bit of stubble scratching against your palms. Your face is graced by an adoring smile, and that alone always lets him know; everything's okay, I got you.
He leans down, lips searching yours again. You happily indulge, one hand sneaking into the hair at the back of his neck. The kiss is longing, practically aching to be closer. You can feel how much he missed you just by the way his hips slide over yours.
His hands settle onto your waist, and for a moment you think he's just going to let them stay there. Of course not, because your boyfriend is anything if not unpredictable. With a gentle grip he lifts you up and turns the both of you around, setting you down onto the counter across the stove.
You giggle through the kiss, and you can feel him smile along with you, but he doesn't let go. It's like he can't, and not in a "help I just got spider powers and now I'm glued to you" way, no, like a "I'm so in love with you that I want this to last forever" way.
His hands settle onto your thighs, thumbs rubbing gentle, soothing circles into your skin. It's like this is what recharges him. Not food, not water, this is what he survives on. Your pure unconditional affection.
Unfortunately for the two of you, humans do need air to live, so you're forced to pull away after a while. Still, you remain close, noses rubbing together ever so slightly, foreheads leaning against each other.
“You ‘kay sweetie?” Your voice is gentle, not wanting to ruin the tooth achingly sweet moment the two of you are having.
“Mhm…” He presses a chaste kiss to your lips. “Just so happy to see you again… I missed you.” he accentuates his words with another kiss. “A lot.”
A warm smile adorns your face when he admits to his longing for you. You know he misses you, he tells you every day, and he knows that the sentiment is returned. You both have your reasons to be missing each other; with Peter being a superhero, he has to be careful, so the reality of any day possibly being his last was… Present. Plus, it’s a busy job. Besides the one he already has.
You just enjoy each other’s presence for a moment, basking in the radiating glow of what could only be described as an aura of love. It was like nothing outside that kitchen mattered anymore, at least not for now. You and Peter against the world, out of your small apartment in Queens.
“Honey?” He asks, and you think he’s going to say something else really sweet and heartwarming to really drive the point home. Until you see the furrow in his brows.
“I think, uh— whatever you were making is burning.”
“Fuck!” You hopped off the counter and went back to the pot of sauce, groaning when you realised the bottom of it was burnt. “It’s fine, I can— I can salvage this.” You looked over at your boyfriend, who had an apologetic smile on his face. “We can make out all you want after I make you dinner, ‘kay?”
“And every day after?” His voice is gentle, his hand resting on your lower back to keep some form of physical contact with you.
“Of course,” you stand on your tippy toes to press a kiss to his cheek, “every day after too.”
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cosmal · 1 year
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✪ — sender  is  found  drunk  by  receiver, ❛ i just wanted to make sure you’re okay. ❜
tequila makes me sleepy
summary — pete comes to find you at a party after you call him.
content — tasm!peter parker x fem!afab!reader, drunk!reader, metnions of gross guys sexualizing reader
Peter doesn't have his mask on. He's been swinging about Queens trying to find the party you're at and he hasn't thought about how he's recognisable the entire time.
He thinks about how tired you'd sounded on the phone. How you'd begged him to stay on the phone so you wouldn't fall asleep. Thinking about it more makes him panicky, but he can't help it.
"Tequila makes me sleepy, Parker."
"Yeah? Where are you, honey?"
"Some party. Stay on the phone? Don't wanna fall asleep."
Eventually, he finds the party. In the back of his dizzy mind, he remembers you mentioning it on Tuesday when you were over at his apartment. He remembers how excited you were about it and how upset you were because he wasn't coming.
He lands in the alley beside the building and wastes no time in pushing through the front door. He stands in the front entranceway and starts to get frustrated. Most of the time, he hates his enhanced senses. Even more so right now because he can't hear you.
He blames it on the crowd. There are way too many people here for him to be focusing on just one. But it's you. He knows more about you than he does himself and he can't fucking hear you. He hopes that he's too overwhelmed. The reason why he can't hear you. Not because you've left and you're somewhere, drunk and unsafe, where he can't find you.
"Hey," he grabs the arm of some drunk guy, "where's the bedroom?"
Pointing down to the left with a wobbly arm, "Down that hall," he slurs.
Peter doesn't say thank you. He drops his arm and heads In that direction. Avoiding PDA and more rowdy drunk guys.
The relief he feels when he pushes open the door only lasts a few moments. He finds you, on your stomach with your face smooshed against your arm, asleep. Your sparkly dress rides up your legs to reveal enough bare skin to make Peter feel uncomfortable. He's grateful he's here right now.
The mattress dips down where he sits down by your head, and can't help himself from pushing your messy hair from your face.
Your lips parted, you wrinkle up your face when you start to rouse. Peter is selfish with his hands, squeezing at the fat of your shoulder, running a knuckle down your soft cheek. Slowly, you come to, blinking away your fatigue. Peter, and he's super sorry for it, thinks you're adorable.
"Hello," he says softly. He doesn't know why, but he feels guilty for waking you.
"Peter," you say, lips sticking together with blotchy gloss, "Pete, hey." This time when you say it, it's just understandable. He appreciates the fond hum to your words nonetheless.
"Hey," he says and pushes his thumb into your cheek. You groan because he's a nuisance but he doesn't care because you're okay.
You sit up on your elbows and he can tell you're trying not to wobble. He wants to stable you but doesn't know how to in your position. You seem as dizzy as he'd expect because you always are when drunk. You have the scars on your knees to prove it.
"What are you doing here?" you mumble, scratching at your face with a flippancy he hates.
He catches your hand and rubs your face for you. Gently, because he's not mean, he smooths the back of his hand down your cheek and pushes his fingers over your eyebrow and into your hair.
"Just wanted to make sure you were okay," he tells you. "You sounded bad on the phone, honey."
"Shit, I'm," you hiccup and he panics for a moment. "Shit I'm sorry, Pete, I didn't mean to scare you."
"It's okay," he says honestly. You did scare him but it's okay now because it was reasonable. And you're okay.
You sit up and swing your legs over the edge of the bed and he stables you with a hand on the bottom of your back. Pulling your dress down your legs, he frowns when you shiver.
"You cold?" he worries.
Nodding, you clearly regret it with a groan. "A little. This dress is horrible."
"You think?"
"Yeah, it's itchy and-" you're hiccuping some more and he hopes you don't make yourself sick, "it's too small. The guys here- they, they're gross."
Peter goes rigid. "They didn't do anything did they?"
You shake your head and there's a timidness to you that Pete wants to capture and keep forever. You, an image, rumpled clothes and droopy eyes. Despite how worried he'd been only ten minutes ago, he thinks you're amazing. It's terrifying, honestly.
"No, they just look at me..." you trail off and look at the wall over Peter's shoulder quickly, "They look at me like I'm a piece of meat."
Peter doesn't know what to say. He feels queasy.
"Well, they don't look at me like you are right now."
"Like what?" he lets his tongue catch up to his head.
"I don't know." You shrug and look at your lap.
Peter can't help himself. "I hope they don't look at you like I do. Like you're the prettiest girl in the room. If they do, they need to find someone else."
You let your head fall against his shoulder. "Pete..."
"It's true."
"They don't." He can hear your smile.
"They don't?" Peter now sounds half-offended. "Who else are they looking at like that? You're the prettiest girl in the room."
You have the decency in you to scoff. "You're unbelievable."
"I know," he says when you yawn. "I know. C'mon let's get you home."
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bruisedboys · 1 year
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peter parker who always lets you hang off his arm. you’re always holding it to your chest when walking or just standing. letting him do the guiding because you just want to stick to his side. you wrap both your arms around his and just fiddle with his fingers and maybe tug on them when you need his attention. you rest your chin on his shoulder when he’s stopped to talk to someone or when you’ve both sat down. you just have to be near him tbh <3333 and he doesn’t care one bit, he actually hates it when you’re not as close.
aerial why would you do this to me!!! I want to be his clingy gf so bad. also this is really short sorry </3
Peter sometimes finds it hard to breathe when you cling to him like this. You’re so close and your warmth is seeping into him and your perfume smells like honey and flowers and hell, he’s so in love with you he could die.
One of your hands is slotted in his, your fingers having searched for his and found them the moment you’d stepped outside. Your other hand is curled around his elbow, clutching his arm to your chest. Peter thinks it’s cute, how close you want to be to him. How you don’t seem to want to let him go.
“Y/N, honey,” he says with a poorly contained grin. “You okay?”
You look up at him, pretty as ever. Peter’s chest burns at the sight of you.
“Fine,” you say, and you look it. Your smile is bruising.
The breeze has blown a strand of hair across your face. Peter lifts his free arm and pushes the stray lock behind your ear, his hand lingering on your jaw.
“Did you decide what you feel like eating?” He asks slowly. It’s hard to get the words out when his fondness and adoration for you is making his chest tight.
You don’t notice, and besides, you look like you’re feeling an equal amount of fondness for him. “I was thinking Thai,” you say thoughtfully. “But only if you want that too?”
Peter grins. He doesn’t care what he eats, as long as it’s with you. He presses his thumb to the corner of your mouth, then leans down to press a chaste kiss to your wind-bitten lips. “Thai it is.”
Peter and you walk the short distance to the Thai restaurant. You cling to Peter the entire way. He can’t stop smiling. He wants you this close forever, even if it means you’re so close he has to be extra careful not to step on your feet.
The Thai place is busy tonight. Neither of you mind. You stand in line, so close your shoes press up against each other. You fiddle with Peter’s fingers, trace the lines on his palm, the veins on the inside of his wrist. Peter is putty in your hands. His chest feels like it’s on fire, worse when you press into his side and let your head fall against his shoulder, your weight familiar and soft and warm all at once.
By the time the food comes out, hot and fresh and smelling delicious, Peter’s chest is already so full with fondness for you he’s not sure he can fit anything else in there. He tries his best.
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sideblog-ver3 · 6 months
Text
spider webs (18+)
i need spider-man/peter parker. gosh like so badly. wish i involved more webbing concept, but if i wrote more it would end so horribly. first full smut fic, so go easy one me. also this is for adult peter parker so no marvel peter (kinda had ps5!peter in mind) don’t think too much, just enjoy the ride my friends (WC: 2.1K) dividers @firefly-graphics
reader with a vagina, oral (f), slight bondage (webbing)
vampires and boobs (my other fic)
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peter parker and spider-man are two different people.
peter parker is a kind, scientifically smart, nerdy guy. he helps his aunt may at f.e.a.s.t. in his spare time, he works as a physics teacher for a high school in brooklyn, and he’s the best boyfriend you could have.
now spider-man is a part of peter, but they are two different people. he’s the friendly neighborhood spider-man, the amazing spider-man, the spectacular spider-man and any other adjective jameson could type up for the daily bugle. he was a wall-crawler webbing up the bad guys while still looking out for the little people. he had a sharp tongue with a snappy quip ready to fly, easy going personality for a friendly chat, and also could be deathly serious when the time calls for it.
he was clad in red and blue spandex that hugged all of him nicely. his biceps showing he could hold up a bus, his pecs and abs showing… he’s a stone wall, and his ass and other parts show that his partner is very lucky.
you get jealous sometimes when you see videos of spider-man swinging around, anyone could see what a hot body and sexy personality he has. where as when peter’s around he’s covered in two layers or loose clothing, anything that could cover up his physic. you wish he’d show his muscles off as peter parker, telling people he’s brains and brawn.
but you love him either way.
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at least if anyone oogles at your boyfriend they don’t get the opportunity to see the godly body beneath the flannels and sweaters. oh! and another thing you love about spider-man, the webs. and the suit. mask and suit.
you’ve told peter before, “if you ever want to role play one night, i’ve always dreamed of spider-man webbing me up and using me however he chooses.” peter just gulped and took that information nervously.
that was two months ago. you weren’t expecting anything right away, it’s not like your sex lives were bad to begin with. peter’s got good stamina, able to go a couple rounds when you’re tired after the second go. it’s just that he’s been busier with patrol and work, you as well, just not piled high like peter always does. you just miss those long nights of kissing and touching, moaning into each other's mouths or skin. peter’s hands rising goosebumps in their trail, your fingers curled into his growing hair to give firm tugs as he pleasures you with his fingers or tongue.
so when peter climbed through your shared bedroom window at midnight you didn’t think he would want to do any fooling around. you’d just check for any harsh injuries, he’d shower and then you’d both fall asleep in each other’s hold.
but not tonight.
tonight, peter climbed through the window like usual, a few cuts to his suit but no broken skin or bones. he flipped the bottom of his mask up so it would sit on his nose bridge, tip of his nose to his chin were the only visible parts of skin.
you kept a hood gaze on his slow steps, seeing how he licked his lips. he stood at the foot of the bed, hands on his hips. your legs shifted under the blankets and your eyes kept wandering.
“i heard from a little birdie that you’ve been in need of spider-man’s help. and what kind of hero would i be if i didn’t come to the rescue?”
he rounded the corner of the bed, his right hand gliding just beside the outline of your legs. “what seems to be the problem, miss?”
you took a swallow, knowing your fantasy was gonna come true. “i- i can’t make myself cum. my fingers aren’t enough.” giving your best doe eyes, knowing they always work on peter.
he hummed, “well, i don’t mean to brag, but i’ve been told i know the best solution to that problem. got a technique named after me.”
that made you break character for a second, “oh yeah?” a slight giggle in your voice. “what’s this technique called?”
his pink lips quirked to a smirk, “spider tingle. mostly involves tongue.” your breathing picked up.
“could- could you do that? or- or however you want, can take me in any position. i just want to cum.”
“don’t worry, baby. i’ll take good care of you. now i’m gonna need you to put your wrist against the headboard.” your heart picked up.
slowly you pushed your arms up and then, “let’s take off this shirt first. gonna be difficult in a minute.”
spider-man held the hem of your sleep shirt and waited for a nod from you before pulling it over your head and off your body. waist up completely exposed for him. “you’re a gorgeous girl.” his gloves hands roaming over your doughy skin, a shaky gasp slips free.
he pushed your arms into a comfortable position before spraying a layer of web fluid to glue your wrist flat. “if you get uncomfortable just tell me and i’ll rip them off.” and you could only nod with an open mouth.
“don’t be afraid to be vocal. it encourages me.”
he pressed his lips into a kiss upon your left cheek then your right. he pulled back and you could see his act breaking for a second, “this okay? feel safe?”
you nodded but he insisted, “words, pretty. i need the words.” “yes. i’m safe.” he smiled happily, “good.” and he leaned in so he finally gave you a proper kiss.
it was sweet and slow, his top lip covering yours. the tip of his nose bumping into your cheek, a gloved hand caressing the empty side, his thumb swiping under your eye. you followed his leaving lips, chasing for more, struggling against your restraints. a quiet groan and whimper at not being able to reach for your boyfriend.
a teasing chuckle from his slick lips, his fingers held your jaw, “be a good girl and spread those legs for me.”
and your legs separated without any resistance, you could feel the wetness building on your panties. spider-man pressed sloppy, wet kisses from your collarbone to each breast before going down the valley. his hands were at your sides, sliding down your figure as his lips were walking the trail down south. your chest pushed forward and you moaned at the tingles he was causing, you kept forgetting you didn’t have access to your hands and it made you a bit angry.
“you're such a good girl for spider-man. do i get to keep you after this?” pressing a lingering kiss just above the band of your red and blue panties. a pair you bought so you could fluster peter, and they work magnificently.
you moaned, “i’m all yours, spider-man. i’ll be your little toy if you want.”
he kissed over the fabric and hummed, “i’m one lucky hero.” his slender fingers curled into the elastic band and started tugging down. you pushed your hips up to help and he slid the fabric slowly down your thighs, still leaving parted kisses on your body.
the underwear was off your body and thrown to the floor, completely bare for the clothed web-slinger. you didn’t realize how vulnerable it was be in this light, your legs shutting themselves. but spider-man gripped your knees and easily kept them from closing off for him.
“nothing to worry about, pretty girl. i’m gonna take real good care of you.”
he moved to lay on his stomach, throwing your legs over his shoulders and his head was now in front of your slick center. he gripped your outer thighs as he pressed some more quick kisses on your high inner thigh, just missing the place you desperately needed him.
“spidey, please. i- i- i need your mouth. please.” pleading for any relief from being pent up.
he kisses your mound, “only cause you said please,” and then his lips were wrapped on your pussy.
you sighed dreamily at the familiar caress, head thrown into the headboard with your chest arching into the air. breast bouncing with each quick breath followed by a deep inhale.
the low moans from peter’s mouth vibrate from your stomach to your heart. the nylon of his gloves, your version of silk on heated skin. the heels of your feet moving to dig into his shoulder blades, unconsciously trying to push him closer without your hands.
your lids are heavy with euphoria, trying to keep them open as you watch spider-man licking into you, bobbing his head and grinding his hips into the bedding.
“aww, poor- poor baby. looking a bit- a bit needy down there.” trying for a teasing tone, having to push through moans.
spider-man pressed a firm kiss to your clit making you gasp, “who wouldn’t be needy around a beautiful lady? especially one as delicious as you.” before dipping back to work.
this man knows how to get your heart racing with words alone.
you knew peter was skilled with his tongue, fast quips rolling into villains faces. oh, also easily making you cum and become a stimulated mess before him, but the spider-man suit is making him even better. your eyes are rolling to the ceiling or crossing in the middle to make your vision blur, mouth open in a silent gasp or biting into your bottom lip to subdue the louder moans so you don’t get a noise complaint. like last time.
you looked down again to see him lapping at your wetness, a lake in his scorching desert. his palms slid up your thighs to squeeze at your hips before resting them on your stomach. keeping you pressed firmly into the mattress, subduing your squirming.
his tongue tickled your clit, pulling a high pitched whine from your throat. you tried tugging against the webbing, you wanted it off so you could press spider-man closer, but you didn’t want him to stop for even a second.
“so- so close, ba- baby. so- uh! uh!” tingling as his tongue enters your hole. fucking in and out while his nose bumps into your clit, giving that extra stimulation. “yes, yes! keep- keep going.”
you squeezed tight around the muscle, his exhale ghosting over his spit and your slick mixing. how you wished you could rip your hands free, yank his mask off so you could sink your nails into peter’s messy curls and tug him.
spider-man started gaining speed, going faster, making that knot in your lower stomach building tighter and tighter. so close to snapping free from tension.
“please, spidey. peter, i’m- i’m almost there, baby.”
that only spurred him to kick into high gear, tongue flattening for every inch of you. lips kissing you intimately, sucking you sweet.
“pete- pete, i’m- i’m gonna…” trailing off as the knot tightens, rendering you speechless.
peter didn’t need to ask what you were gonna do, he just gave you a silent permission to cum as he continued his hero work.
a loud noise of ecstasy was ripped from you, thighs shutting around peter’s head as he worked you through it all. your chest was panting with a slight sweat to your breast.
“ah! ah! pete, too- too much.” foot tapping on his shoulder as your physical signal for him to lighten up. three more kitten licks, two kisses and a playful bite at your thighs that made you screech in delight.
peter finally tugged his bug-eyed mask off, letting you appreciate your pretty boyfriend with his lips pink all covered in shine. he crawled up your body, trailing over his phantom kisses from earlier.
he nipped at a spot on your neck at causes you to sigh dreamily, eyes fluttering shut and legs shuffling for something. “my hero.” sighing out the two words just as he licked over a spot where there is sure to be a purple hickey tomorrow morning.
his dazzling smile came into view, “all in a days work, sweetheart.” giving you a kiss while his hands ran over your arms and pulled away the loosening web fluid.
his lips moved from your mouth to your wrist, princess kissing them at the slight redness you gained at the friction. “doing okay?” he asked, peering at you through long brown lashes.
you nod, “yeah. doing great. now,” you pushed yourself into peter, wrapping your arms around his neck. shuffling your legs over his to straddle his thighs, you pushed his head into your neck so you could whisper into his ear, “how’d you like a reward? for helping me out, spidey.” pulling at his earlobe with your teeth.
peter shuttered and sighed, “i’d like nothing more.”
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 4 months
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What about Peter having a crush on reader but he can never properly talk to her, until reader gets saved by spider man like twice and in the third time she kisses him and Peter's all happy and excited at first until he realises she only like spiderman not Peter Parker and he's all sad and he visits her place as spidey and they talk and he tries kiss her and she's like no it was a mistake and I didn't mean it and I already like this other guy and he's like who??? And she's like oh this boy with me at school and Peter being Peter apologises and decides to help her ask the boy out while being a the sweet sad puppy he is and the next day he's all mopey at school and avoids reader until she corners and asks him out and he's like omg she was talking about me
.....can I please have chocolate now? 🥺🥺🥺
- yours truly
a/n: okay, i hope you don’t mind, i tweaked it a little so that he doesn’t find out the truth at school but at her apartment when he visits him
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“Wait,” you pressed a palm to the hero’s chest and pushed him back slightly. He’d pulled up his mask just enough for his soft lips to be unobscured before he’d locked them with your own, “this–, uhm…” you averted your gaze and shook your head lightly as to rid yourself of the hazy sensation the taste of his kisses bloomed, “I’m sorry. I can’t do this.”
“What?” he leaned back a bit next to you on your bed.
“It’s not you, I promise, you’re so–… I mean, you’re you. Most of New York would probably kill to get to do, well, this with you. I just–, as good as that felt, it can’t happen again,” sucking in a shaky breath, you revealed, “I kinda like someone else, like really like them. So, this just–, I’m sorry… I can’t…”
As a slow, sombre exhale flowed out past his lips, “oh…” he leaned further away from you, “who–, uhm… who is it?”
“A guy at my school. We have biology together, though I’ve never actually had the courage to talk to him. Every time I try, I just chicken out at the very last second and walk away…”
“What’s his name? Maybe, I don’t know… maybe your friendly neighbourhood Spiderman could play matchmaker or something?”
Blinking back at him, you breathed, “you’d really do that? You’ve already done so much for me.” 
“It’s fine, I wanna help,” he offered you a weak smile, “I just want you to be happy. So, what’s the guy’s name?”
“Peter,” you said wistfully, “Peter Parker.”
Mouth parting slightly in surprise, he looked as if you’d just slapped him clean across his face. 
“He’s got brown hair,” you went on, “and is like probably the smartest person I’ve ever met.”
“Peter Parker?” he repeated, “y-you have a crush on m–, on him?”
“Pretty much since the day I first met him,” you sighed longingly, “I know, you must think I’m pathetic. You throw yourself into danger every day and here I am, too scared to talk to the guy I’m in love with.”
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